disgrace (17)

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She limped outside, bleeding and trying to get away. While she cried I followed her, she hid behind a building. Carrying a gun with her, nearly ripping out her hair. We were still young, I think she was still finishing highschool.

Her torn up uniform, covered in blood and limping with a gun in her hand.
I remember walking past her briefly and handing something to wipe her tears with. That was the first and last time I came up close to her.

As the months passed, the same thing's happened. Only it's been getting worse, I've thought about maybe helping her, but how would she react to me killing her parents..or her.

I watched her limp to school, I watched her at work, studying, crying, all of it.

Was is because of me that she went through all that. For coming home with her brothers corpse.

She'd been hit, scared, beaten, and what's more. Her sad life became entertaining to me, I wanted to know all of it. Sadly, she managed to slip away, and I lost track of her.

She's sitting here in front of me now.

However that expressionless, lifeless, face of hers.
It sickens me.
To see that she turned out this way.

For some years after she moved I thought she had gotten away and bettered herself. Not completely go to shit like her brother.

Here she is, rising up the ranks in the most dangerous criminal organization in Japan..
I wonder if she even knows, or if she even cares.

Does she remember me at all? I'm the one that saved her she should. After are I'm the one that took her and called the police.

_________________________________________

The silver haired man, from the work building. He was the top boss wasn't he? This would be the first time you've properly met him.

"My name is Manjiro Sano..I believe you are (y/n l/n)..correct?."

"You are correct sir. How may I be of assistance."

"I would like for you, to become an executive, and work by my side."

"I'm sorry sir, I don't yet think I have the proper experience."

He looked at the man who was with him, and had him take Aki into another room leaving you both alone.

"I want you to work for me, and I want to know all about you, everything you've been through every detail. Don't leave anything out..y/n.."

His stare made it hard to say no, you were afraid of what would happen if you declined that offer. So hesitantly.

"Yes sir, I understand.."

He tried his best to give a smile, which sent a shiver down your spine. His intentions remained anonymous, which set you more on edge than you've ever been.

"Well then, why don't you start telling me?"

You look down, why did he want to know so much. Why would he care for your tragic little backstory. What's it to him. Still either way, if you don't start, who knows what he'd do.

When I was younger I was taken in by a poor family that found me in a park.

They felt bad but thought I could be of use to them.
My biological parents, I've forgotten their faces.

My 'father' was strange, and often looked at me in strange ways, while my 'mother' had me work around the house cooking and cleaning.
The only one that was okay with me was their son, my brother.
He did his best to protect me, but eventually we grew distant as we got older.
In middle school he joined a gang, and while he was out fighting, I would stay home and endure beatings from our father.
Beatings from him became more..sexual..and he started advancing. Even though my brother and I grew distant once he heard of that happening he immediately brought me out and taught me some basics of fighting.

Our father became more of a pig, and our mother became a damn control freak.
She beat me, anytime I messed up slightly, she would hit me, and cry.
Then she'd kiss my forehead, hug me and say she loved me.
Because she'd always been like that. I believed it. She always, manipulated me, and found ways to use me and keep everything in order.

It went on like that for years, in school I was bullied for coming to class with bloody clothes or bruises.

I was always quiet, and minded my business. I got older, and older, no one would touch me. And bullies became too scared to touch me as well. Afraid I'd break after one touch because I looked so sick, not wanting to be accused of murder.

Boys never openly confessing their feelings for me because it would be embarrassing.

Besides, I was cold, too cold to be seen as living.

One day in highschool, my brother offered to walk me home, and on the way there..someone killed him..

I carried his body home. And was almost killed myself.
My mom, grabbed a knife and stabbed my side. She smashed my leg, so stole my fathers firearm and I had to flee, even for a short while.

I tried to get as far as I could. But I had no where else to go. Because of my brothers death, the next few months there was nothing but a living hell. With no one left to protect me.

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