𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄-𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐄 [Tokyo Rev.][YAKUZA!OP!F!R]

PROLOGUE:SHE

Sober. One word I wish I weren't. I am one sadly sober girl amidst a scorching flame, begging to chew and twist at my heart of inordinate tire. Selfish. Selfish is my fated arsonist, a runaway. Selfless. Selfless I, here seated on a chair on the verge of my conscience's fall over a skeletal remains' rights. Petty me.

I slowly stand, begrudgingly dragging my heavy feet one after the other to draw my curtains shut. I turn back to the office room and sigh. Messy notes with equally messy handwriting scattered over my decrepit wooden desk- pens and stationary sprawled across my room (the single pen in my hand a lucky find), a board to my left with a spiral of links connecting to a single point, bed sheets messy and cold, lone for years and not once used. My floorboards had multiple stains, wood welcoming my steps with a devilish creak. My windows shy away beneath the privacy of my beloved curtain- though plain white, serving its job.

The outline of my humble den is to be titled dishevelled for honour. I do not take pride. Wainscoted off-white walls, they too, seem to be stained. A single lamp hanging from the ceiling. Home. I do not take pride.

My eyes silently peer over the single stroke of blazing sunlight through the lone crack of my curtain up to the miserably distorted board before me. Apricity hummed my cold soul into an odd comfort. My daze held my pupils warily to the object before me, jaded mist fogging the purity of my glossy eyes.

Two weeks, three days, four hours, twenty-five minutes and sixteen seconds.

Two weeks, three days, four hours, twenty-five minutes and sixteen seconds since I'd collected the first whole puzzle piece.

And how long did finding a whole puzzle piece take? 5 years. 5 years of trial and failure- seemingly so, I suppose. What are the odds, four? Two? One? I am now certain- my father is a man who died by the hands of his kind. It wasn't the cruel force of nature that tore us apart, it wasn't his choice. My father is a fallen victim to morbid manslaughter. He was a man that had his life snatched from the depths of his soul. He was murdered.

Restraint feels so distant, like a shallow whisper crawling between the crevices of my brain.

Corpse to skeletal remains, all I see is his respiring soul breathing into my head and trickling down the fiddling strings of my heart, begging me to set him free.

How can I ignore him when he pleads so silently?

If It was the devil that struck our distance and carved us apart, I am the she the devil should fear. He should cower below my feet and repent to god. He will wish he never defied his lord and beg for mercy in cowardice and terror. If it was a fellow species- human? Their death much better by their palms than mine. I am the she every he should fear. I am the she every Jane should despise.

Word for word, however you may cower, within your shadow to the flames of sun, you're dead once I see that you must die.