The first sensation that overwhelms Ayame's senses is a searing pain coursing through her head. This sensation isn't unusual, though waking up from such a thing is. An ache of such calibre would be enough to arouse most anyone from an unwanted slumber - someone as hardened as her is no exception.
The second is the way her eyes struggle to open their heavy lids with a slow, forced motion. Adjusting to the darkness of the room surrounding her was hard enough as it was, but when the surroundings were only illuminated by a lone, meagre lightbulb hanging over her head, it felt less like a room and more like a pitch black void.
The final sensation is one that concerns her a little more, which is the bewildering realization that she can't move her arms or legs. A blind, cold panic shoots through her for a moment as she assumes the worst; the gruesome thought that she must have been dismembered while she was out cold.
Luckily, these concerns are quickly dashed by the sight of her legs, though those legs that have been tied to the chair she is currently sat on. Of course, struggling against these binds proves to be futile.
Oh, fuck. Where am I...?
As the dubious question of an uncertain location rattles through her aching skull, Ayame finds that she is not granted even a moment of quiet respite to mull over where she is, or just who could have attacked her, before the question is answered for her.
The answer comes in the form of a piercing, giddy laughter; emitting from one of the dark corners of the room. Ayame's piercing gaze is goaded towards the sound, and the violent urges she can feel within are rising to the top with a fearsome, hot bubble of fury.
Who, in all of Kyoto, had the guts to raise a hand to her? Who was stupid enough to think that they could kidnap one of the heir apparents to the Tokugawa syndicate without repercussion? The guilty party really must be an idiot.
The laughter only continued to build, followed by sounds of a chair scraping against the dulled wood of the floor; and, as the slow footsteps echoing through the empty room began to come to a gradual halt, Ayame was finally granted the full view of just who this mysterious assailant was.
None of Ayame's questions were answered, because she didn't recognize the woman stood in front of her.
“Who the fuck are you?” Ayame asked with a growling tone. The woman shoved her hands into her jacket pockets with a cocky smirk, and took her time making her way towards Ayame.
“What? You don't recognize me?!”
“Can't say that I do.”
She had quite the striking appearance, Ayame had to admit that much.
The woman had long, wine red hair that spilled down her back, and bangs that rested just over her eyes. She was dressed in a pure white ensemble; a white parka coat with black fur trim, white slacks, and dressy looking white shoes to match.
The grin she wore was wild, sharp and unhinged; like staring into the maw of a rabid animal. What stood out the most to Ayame, however, was the woman's eyes. Even here, beneath the dull light of this barren room, her irises were nearly a pale white – milky and translucent and almost fragile looking, even if their expression was anything but.
“You must be dumb as hell if you don't know about me!” the woman laughed. “C'mon. Take a good look. A yakuza bitch like you has never seen me before? Or heard of anyone that fits my description?!”
Ayame shook her head.
“Seriously, I've got no idea who the fuck you are. Guess whatever movie you were in got canned.”
The woman's smirk fell into a disapproving snarl.
“Then allow me to introduce myself!”
Ayame heard the sharp slap across her face echo throughout the room before she actually felt it. She blinked in surprise; it didn't especially hurt, but it did catch her off guard. She spat out a small trickle of blood from the impact.
“I'm Hazuki Mishima,” the woman continued, and flexed her hand afterwards. “Lieutenant of the Mishima clan. The pleasure's all fuckin' mine!”
Ayame's eyes finally flickered with a vague recognition.
Oh, that's right. The Mishima sisters are a pair of pretty redheads who dress flashy and act insane, aren't they? Guess she fits the bill to the letter.
“Oh, a Mishima...” Ayame replied with a nonchalance she knew would get under the skin of someone this brash. “If you're not Mirai, then you must be the short-tempered moron I've heard so much about. What do you want with me?”
Ayame was treated to a second slap for giving the Mishima girl lip. Unfortunately for her, this one was much stronger than the last, and actually made Ayame grit her teeth a bit upon impact.
“If I'm the moron, what does that make you? An idiot who was prowling around Mishima territory, and then got caught by me! HAHA! Your luck really is shitty! First being born into the Tokugawa family, and now this room will be your grave!”
Ayame scoffed, and rolled her eyes. Hazuki's bemused expression turned into one of a panicked snarl.
“Since when does the Mishima family own any territory near the Tokugawa estate? You're not doing anything to disprove that you're the stupid one here, y'know.”
This time, instead of a slap, Ayame had to endure a punch to the face. She grunted upon impact, and Hazuki bunched a hand up in the back of Ayame's messy hair, yanking her head backwards.
“Tell me what you were doing at the Tejima shrine so late at night,” Hazuki growled, leaning in close to Ayame's face. For all her violent antics, at least a pleasant smell hung around her; a heady mixture of expensive perfume and hard alcohol seemed to be the scent that lingered on Hazuki's clothes.
Lost for what to say, Ayame sighed.
“I was out for a walk,” she finally answered bluntly. I mean, at least it's the truth.
“BULLSHIT! Bullshit, bullshit! The biggest! Load! Of bullshit! I've ever heard!”
Hazuki violently kicked at Ayame's ankles with each word. That was something that actually hurt, but she did her best to not let it show.
“...I like shrines, and I stopped by that one while I was out getting some fresh air,” Ayame explained plainly, her head hanging low. In this position, there was little more she could do than explain herself, and she certainly wasn't in the mindset of screaming and crying over a punk like this.
She was surprising herself with how calm she was keeping, despite everything going on. Perhaps it was because of the fact that, in spite of Hazuki's violent outbursts and unhinged demeanour, Ayame didn't feel the least bit intimidated by her.
Hazuki knelt down and gripped at Ayame's chin, forcibly tilting her head upward to meet the wild eyes that betrayed the soft, gentle smile she was wearing across her face.
“Listen, Tokugawa...I'm having a pretty bad day today. My dear mother took seven bullets to the face, and now I've got to waste a day going to that bitches funeral tomorrow,” Hazuki explained, keeping a sugary sweet tone to her voice that set Ayame's nerves on edge. “So if you could co-operate and tell me what I want to know, we can both get on with our lives. Okay?”
Ayame looked stunned at the bluntly candid nature of what Hazuki was saying. She nearly forgot, amidst everything, that Hazuki was the daughter of the newly deceased Mishima matriarch. And refering to her own mother with no affection whatsoever...
Ayame paused for thought amidst the tempestuous emotions.
I can only imagine the weird emotions running through this girl's head today...I guess I'll just keep pissing her off.
“Oh, Ryuko Mishima, right...I heard.”
Hazuki remained silent, for once. Ayame continued, smirking with a coughing laugh.
“You don't sound like you got on, so should I bother offering my condolences?”
Offended by such a flippant remark, Hazuki lashed out at Ayame with another unrestrained, rough kick; this time directly to the knee.
“Keep your pleasantries to yourself, bastard. I don't care to hear them, and she doesn't deserve them.”
Doesn't deserve them, huh...I wonder what this girl was put through.
“Yeah, I'd feel the same if my mom fell over dead tomorrow. They sound weirdly similar. Your mom and mine, I mean.”
For a moment, Hazuki faltered from the unexpected level-headedness of the conversation; before a swift uppercut to the chin made Ayame's teeth grit together roughly.
“DON'T talk like you understand my situation,” Hazuki yelled angrily, though Ayame could tell this was more of an emotionally charged retaliation than any action thus far. “You presumptuous bitch!”
That small exchange kicked off at least an hour of a violent back-and-forth between Hazuki Mishima and Ayame Tokugawa. Hazuki would demand to know why Ayame was at the Tejima shrine, and whenever Ayame repeated her truthful answer or opted not to say anything, she was struck somewhere different.
Ayame could definitely see how the Mishima clan's reputation for torture preceded it. It was clear that Hazuki knew all of the softest, most painful spots of the body, and certainly where every joint was most affected when struck. Every part of her body felt tremendously sore, and Hazuki showed no signs of slowing down until she got her way.
It was a long, painful, and drawn out irritation, but even so, Ayame felt anything but frightened. It was nothing compared to what she had to put up with at home on a daily basis.
"FUCK! I hate you Tokugawa bitches! You're so fuckin' annoying!"
And to think, I was ordered to stay at home for a quiet night in tonight. How in the hell did it come to this...?
After quite some time had elapsed, both Hazuki and Ayame were hitting their limits.
Ayame was finally beginning to grow weary from being hit over and over again, which meant that it was much less fun to continue tormenting her on a Mishima's part. And said Mishima, on the other hand, despite still bursting with energy, was beginning to grow tired of the situation she had locked herself into.
Ayame observed her silently.
It was fascinating, the way Hazuki seemed as though she was at a total loss for what to do or where to take this when things hadn't gone the way she planned. Snarling and mumbling under her breath, pacing back and forth erratically, kicking the walls with a loud curse at the strangest of times...very rarely, she would whip out her phone and make a hushed, frenzied call that would only last a minute at the most.
Ayame found herself wondering just what went on in Hazuki Mishima's daily life – perhaps even in her upbringing overall – that made her act in such a bizarre and unpredictable way.
It was strange. In any other situation like this, Ayame would be cursing her way through it; threatening her captor every step of the way, eagerly awaiting the moment she let her guard down so she could use all of her strength to teach them a lesson. But there was something about Hazuki Mishima that made Ayame pity her, even after so much violence.
Was it the dead look behind
the eyes? Or was it the obvious ways she was processing her grief
over someone that clearly frightened her in the past?
...A thought struck Ayame as she sat in silence with Hazuki before her, and suddenly, a puzzle piece felt as though it had mentally clicked into place.
Maybe it's because we're not so different. At the end of it all...this is someone just like me, isn't it?
For the first time in her life, Ayame experienced a brief moment of clarity as she watched Hazuki wind up another punch.
...Is this what I look like to other people?
“Why are you doing this?”
Hazuki turned to look at Ayame with a wild snap; the first sound of her voice in hours catching her off guard.
“What?”
“Why are you doing this?” Ayame repeated calmly. “Taking your frustrations out on me like this. Because it's obvious to me that's what you're doing, here.”
As though a switch had been flipped, every trace of erratic unpredictability evaporated from Hazuki in an instant. Her expression, her body language, her voice; in a mere moment, it was like they had all reverted back to normal.
“Well...I've got a lot of pent up hatred towards my dead mother, and I need an outlet for all of this bad energy. I'm a very sad girl. A sad, sad girl who just needs attention.”
Though Hazuki spoke on an even keel, Ayame could tell something was...off.
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she watched Hazuki reach inside of her jacket; the familiar soft clink of the inner machinations of a gun reached Ayame's ears.
And just like that - it was only a matter of moments before Hazuki Mishima had pistol whipped her prey.
“You fuckin' piece of shit armchair psychologist!” Hazuki seethed, striking Ayame yet again. “UGH! I found the WORST possible motherfucker to tie to a chair! Psychoanalyzing me?! I'm gettin' sick of the sight of you, you know that?! I've got half a mind to shoot YOU in the face seven times and be done with it!”
An idea struck Ayame. An idea that, if pitched to her when she was feeling especially hopped up on adrenaline, she would accept with a smile on her face.
She leaned forward in her chair somewhat, and flashed Hazuki a goading grin.
“If that's how you really feel, why don't we find an enjoyable way to settle this?”
“I don't wanna have sex if that's what you're getting at,” Hazuki said quickly.
“What!? Wha-- no, that's not what I was getting at in the slightest,” Ayame hastily replied. “Fuck, no.”
“Oh...wait, what do you mean 'fuck no'?!”
“Why do you sound disappointed?!” Ayame balked. “Ugh, just listen. I wanna fight you. No tricks, no weapons. Just you, me, and our fists.”
Hazuki scoffed loudly.
“You really must think I'm a super fuckin' moron of epic proportions. Why would I let you out of those restraints to punch me?”
“You've been beating the shit out of me for hours, Mishima. You've obviously got an advantage here since I'm not in top form, wouldn't you say?”
Hazuki chewed at her bottom lip, her fingers twitching manically against the trigger area of the pistol she was holding as her thoughts worked overtime. Though she didn't verbally answer right away, Ayame could see that she was at least considering the proposal.
“Unless you're too much of a chicken shit to take me on. I guess my reputation proceeds me, even in Mishima circles.”
“What's in it for me if I win?”
Ayame restrained a smirk. Almost got her.
“I'll...do whatever you want. I guess.”
Suddenly, Hazuki looked very serious.
“Anything?” she asked, curious. “You mean that?”
“You have my word,” Ayame reassured her. “On my honour as a Tokugawa.”
Hazuki paused, and suddenly, her dead eyes began to light up with the promise of something truly spectacular.
“Then, if I win...you'll defect from your idiots over at the Tokugawa syndicate, and join the Mishimas!”
Ayame blinked as Hazuki cackled.
“...Hah? That's what you want?”
Ayame let out a small noise of surprise as Hazuki jumped behind the chair, and began to undo the bonds that held her in place.
“I need some strong recruits in my family,” Hazuki said with a giggle. “And you fit the bill real nice. You've withstood quite an onslaught for a while, now! Uh, don't take that as a compliment, though.”
“Uh, okay. I won't.”