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“Hey… What time is it?”

As expected, no response. This is how it’s been for… who knows how long. Ever since I was feeling very sleepy all of a sudden while I was walking in the park, so much that I had to sit down on a bench and take a nap. By the time I felt the dart in my neck, I was too far into falling asleep to react. When I woke up, I couldn’t be sure I was really awake. My head ached, so badly, and the whole universe was darkness. I tried to open my eyes but a resistance kept the lids shut. My arms and legs were bound to the sides of the chair I sat in. For the first hour or so, the least I can say is that I panicked so much that eventually my shaking and labored breathing caused the chair to fall over, taking me with it (but let’s just say for all intensive purposes that it was because I totally tried to escape). I was so freaked out that I almost didn’t notice the trickle of blood sliding down my right temple and onto the cold, cement-like floor.

That’s the only time I’ve had contact with the guy who probably brought me here. A door opened far away from me and reverberating footsteps clacked against the hard floor on their way to me. A pair of strong hands set me upright, and rough, calloused fingers worked some gauze on my forehead. Then the footsteps went back the way they came, the large door shut, and it was just me myself and I.

Now it’s just boring. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but it’s long enough to wish they had some music playing and a bowl of Fritos or something. I twirled circles with my toes, lolled my head back to crack it. “I just want to know because I have a date at 5 tonight. And plenty of homework to do. And I’m starving. And I’ll eventually have to use the bathroom. And I’m getting a little cold. Do you have a blanket somewhere?” I assumed that these guys were probably of some other huge gang that was out to get me, like Kasanoda said. I mean, now my heritage is displayed for all the vultures of the gang-world to see in the form of a large, bright, prominent dragon breathing fire up my neck. But they’re not so much scary as they are patient. I’m so. Bored. I was thinking of tipping the chair back again just to get some interaction.

Just as I was about to push back on my toes, I heard a door open again, from the other side of the large room. My ears turned on the “hypersensitive” setting. There were more than two people. In fact… the footsteps sounded like a stampede. The closer they got, the more I tensed against the chair, until they all stopped in what sounded like a circle around me. No one spoke. The only sounds were some unidentifiable shuffling from all around me. Then, once it had stopped, one pair of footsteps made their way towards me. They stopped right in front of me. I gulped and tried to keep my breathing even. Ok, I take everything back about wanting interaction… Are they gonna beat me up? Kill me? I can’t die yet! My family could never support themselves!

The same strong hands reached around my head to undo the blindfold and slide it slowly off. I blinked in the sudden light, but immediately looked at my captor’s face. Strong features, short black hair and close-shaved beard, deep brown eyes, a nose broken too many times. And a scar down the temple. He surprisingly didn’t look like he wanted to kill me. He walked around behind me to undo my hands and legs. I took in my surroundings: we were in a warehouse of some kind. Large and dimly-lit and empty of anything a warehouse usually has in it. Like I’d thought, there was a circle of super buff, rugged, scary-looking guys sitting on their knees in a circle around me. There could easily be 50. All staring at me. I tried not to let too much of my fear seep out, but it might as well have been encased in a glass box.

My bindings were undone. Scar-man knelt slightly in front of the circle, closer to me, and to my surprise he lay face-down, arms above the head. The other men followed in suit. Then they all screamed in unison, “Shubou-sha!” so loud that I jumped and clung to the chair.

They just called me leader? “…But I thought you were the bad guys?” I said, still holding to the chair for dear life. The adrenaline rush from the scare flowed to my head, giving me a huge headache. If they’re good guys… why did they knock me out and kidnap me to get their attention? I would’ve responded to a good old-fashioned “Hello” or “Nice to meet you”.

The same man stood and bowed to me before coming closer. His smile unnerved me. “We are some of the members of your clan. We thought both you and your brother were dead, but thank it seems that fact has been compromised. I am Torakotai, I was your father’s first in command.” Sure enough, as I looked around again, I noticed the flames of the tattoo creeping past shirt necks or down arms or around knees. “We apologize for this, but it is customary for new members of the clan to attempt to kidnap one of their masters, to prove their capability. In this case, it’s just you. There is only one new member-“ here he pointed back into the crowd and a cheerful male teen smiled and waved, “-but we all thought it best to use this as a reunion party of sorts.”

I relaxed a bit, shifting back into a sitting position. “Well I think I might abolish that rule,” I muttered, a little sarcastically but mostly truthfully. Reunion party. Pfft. No chips. No punch. No music. No Twister. No party.

Even their laughs made me jump. These guys are definitely more chill than Kasanoda’s men, although they look just as mean. Torakotai held a hand out for me, which I cautiously took, and everyone stood. I felt like a puny rabbit or something surrounded by huge, muscular, battle-worn wolves. “Let’s get you out of here,” he said, smiling as he led me through the sea of bodies to a side door. They all followed close behind, giving me the creeps, just a bit. “You have a date to attend. After that we’ll talk about a plan of action.”

“You have no idea how worried I was.”

Once again Kasanoda reminded me of my very eventful afternoon and how he had been searching high and low for me all day. I sighed and set down my bento on the blanket, rolling my eyes at him. “Kasanoda, I’m here now. Nothing happened except what we wanted to. All good things. Everything is ok. Capisce?”

He grunted and stared into his bento, red hair covering his scowling face. Under the trees, the bright light of the slowly-dying sun was blocked from our eyes. I set my chopsticks down and lay back happily into the sweet smelling grass, breathing in the nitrogen and oxygen and carbon that is the atmosphere. “They took me through the warehouse,” I said, closing my eyes to better hear the sounds of the park. “Apparently it belonged to my parents. Or my clan, or whatever. Once you get past this one side where all the shipping and manual work went on, it becomes like a beautiful museum. Everything looks so fancy and regal and decorated, like you’re at one of those old houses that belonged to so-and-so from hundreds of years ago, and you’re not allowed to touch anything. But… but I can touch everything, because it all belongs to me. Which is so weird.”

A smile split across my face as I felt Kasanoda lay beside me, his body up against mine. I snuggled into it without thinking, just enjoying the moment, and he sighed in content. “You get used to it after a while,” he whispered into my hair as he pulled me close. “Just pretend it’s like an ocean, of opportunity or something. It’s just more for you to experience. Don’t think that you have it all. It’s not yours. It’s something you own by doing. By living.”

I opened my eyes and stared into the canopy above, contemplating his words. Some squirrels raced back and forth across the tree limbs, chasing each other around and around in a whiz of grey against a background of green. “Man, Kasanoda,” I whispered, playing with his fingers. “That’s intense. Amazing, actually. Thank you.”

I could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “You’re welcome.”