The girl was dragging herself slowly, as if in a trance, along the road. Her long white hair was tangled, her once exquisite dress messed up, the hem torn in some places. Just below the chest, a crimson spot, barely noticeable against the background of red silk, spread out. Even when four men appeared in her way, this did not save her from detachment. When they almost met and frankly nasty grins appeared on the men's faces, it was already too late to do anything.
The men surrounded the girl and addressed her. At that moment, the girl finally seemed to have recovered senses and looked at the men surrounding her with a slightly clearer gaze of golden eyes. She didn't understand what exactly they were saying to her and tried to slip past, but turned out that she was trapped from all sides. It was at this point that she finally realized what was happening, and an expression of quiet panic flashed across her face.
The men livened up, two of them picked the girl up by the arms, following which the whole party turned off the road into the depths of the forest. The girl was choking with fear and could not make a sound. The men's intentions were clear, even despite the fact that she still did not understand what they were saying.
And only when the knife first deftly cut the fine silk belt, followed by the dress – from the collar down to the navel, and finally – the light bandeau underneath it, did the girl finally manage to scream and began twitching, causing the men to laugh approvingly.
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"Fero, wait," Kakashi called out to his partner.
"What's up?" Tekiro looked back as he stopped and crouched on a tree branch, instantly stiffening when Kakashi addressed him using his code name.
"I don't know yet, but something is wrong."
☙ ❦ ❧
The girl couldn't quite wrap her head around how it could have come to this. At first, she came to her senses in some strange place, with a blade in her chest, somehow managed to get out of the building engulfed in flames at the limit of her strength, now this... It all looked like a terrible dream, but in that case the realism was astonishing. And everything pointed to the fact that the continuation of the "dream" was going to be even worse than its beginning.
She was standing between two men who were holding her hands, squeezing her wrists painfully. The slit dress slipped off her shoulders and bared her breasts. The men guffawed and were clearly egging each other on. The moment when one of them had already grabbed her breast, forcing the girl to squeeze her eyes shut, beat frantically and scream again, a whirlwind seemed to have swept across the clearing. A moment later, four lifeless bodies remained lying on the ground.
The girl dropped to her knees helplessly, looking around hauntedly and trying to understand what had happened. Then, with an agonized squeal, she crawled away from the dead as far as possible, pressing her back against the tree trunk and wrapping up the cut on her chest convulsively. Finally, she looked up, somehow focused her gaze and froze.
Walking towards her, stepping softly and absolutely noiselessly, was a slender man dressed in a dark uniform and a grey protective vest. His face was hidden behind a mask stylized as a muzzle of some animal, and in his right hand he was holding a katana. A crop of silvery hair was visible above the mask. He stopped in front of the girl and, tossing away the blood-stained bundle of greenery which he had previously used to wipe his katana, with a measured movement sheathed the katana behind his back, then squatted down in front of her.
The girl continued to look at the stranger with wide eyes. At first, she thought it was her imagination when she saw that the left eye socket of the mask flashed scarlet. However, then the man removed the mask, and she realized that she was right: while his right eye was quite ordinary, dark grey, the iris of the left eye was piercingly red, alien. A scar splitting the skin around the eye vertically intensified the dismaying image. At the same time, the lower part of the face was still not visible – it was hidden behind a fabric mask, which was a continuation of the collar of a tank top. The man, despite the colour of his hair, looked quite young – he could hardly have been more than twenty-five.
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Blame It All on Me. Part 1
FanfictionShe doesn't know who she is nor where she comes from. She doesn't understand when someone is addressing her, and she can't say anything herself. Two men rescue her when she runs into a group of abusers. However, what are their own intentions? Hatake...
