AN: Trigger warning. Mature topics, violence. Also, this one is long as shit. Excluding this and the translations, it's just under 5500 words. So have fun.
"Маленький кролик. Маленький кролик. Wake up." Mishka says, shaking me in my bed. I sit up, groaning, looking at the silver-haired Russian.
"What is so fucking important that you have to wake me at.........3:30 in the fucking morning, Mishka?" I groan, incredibly annoyed at who's pretty much my surrogate father now, after another two months of living with him. Luckily, it's a Sunday, so I'm off work.
"Have.....issue. Need you to come downstairs." Mishka says, and I groan
"Mishka, I swear to fucking god, if you fucked up the internet again, I am going to shoot you." I snarl, dragging myself out of bed. Grabbing a shirt, I pull it on over my bare since I was only wearing a pair of boxers and shorts, but I'm not gonna have to do anything major. Hopefully.
I follow Mishka downstairs, and into the living room. What I see snaps me wide awake.
A girl, probably a couple of years older than me, laying on the couch. She has dark, tanned skin, covered in scars and blood. Her clothes, not much more than a ragged hoodie and a pair of shorts, are caked in dirt and blood. Her long dark-red hair, the same. She's somewhat tall, about 5'6" or so, about two inches shorter than me, since I gained another inch in the past few months. She's currently unconscious, but breathing.
"Mishka.......what the hell?" I ask, looking at him. He sighs, and gestures to the girl.
"Found her. Alley, like this. Cuts everywhere. Managed to heal.......but....not good." Mishka says
"Okay, and what do you need me for, again?" I ask
".....When trying to figure out what happened......heard men. Talking about...products. Women, children, profits........." Mishka says, and I feel anger roar through my chest
"Human trafficking. ублюдки." I mutter, clenching my fists tightly.
"........I think it best for you to be here when she wake up. Not me. Many of men I heard....older. Adults. Not kids." Mishka says, and I nod
"I get it. I'll make sure she doesn't try to fucking bolt, or some shit." I say, and Mishka nods, then yawns
"Need sleep. 'Night, Маленький кролик." Mishka says
"It's morning, дедушка. Go get some fucking sleep." I say, and Mishka chuckles, then heads upstairs.
While I wait for the mystery girl to wake up, I make myself coffee, and grab a book from a shelf in Mishka's office. It's written in Russian, but I'm slowly teaching myself how to read it. I also bounce into the kitchen, and throw together some French Toast, which I managed to pick up from Mishka.
I wait for several hours, so long that I half-finish the well over 700 page book before the girl begins to stir, and eventually sits up, looking around blearily. Her blood-red eyes look around the room, a bit dazed and confused.
"Morning." I say, simply, quietly. The girl snaps her head towards me, and I can see her entire body tense. I can't tell if it's from the scars or her own fear.
"Who.....who are you?" She asks.
"Алекс Tsuyoi. You can just call me Алекс. What's your name?" I ask, and she looks at me
"......Julia Akayami." She says her voice tense, and a bit harsh. Scared as well.
"Alright. How old are you?" I ask, and she doesn't say anything
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Wrath, Violence, and Love. (Izutoru)
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