Chapter 2
1100 Words
Stranger in silence
She woke up to silence.
Real silence.
No slammed doors. No broken bottles. No shouting through thin walls or footsteps thundering toward her room like an incoming war. The quiet wrapped around her like a fog, soft and unreal.
Her first instinct was panic.
Her body shot up in the bed, breath shallow and uneven, heart thudding too fast. Her eyes searched the shadows for danger, but all she saw were soft walls and a faint stream of golden light peeking through the drawn curtains.
Her sister.
Myiah’s head whipped toward the side of the bed.
Emiko was curled beside her, drooling slightly on a pillow too fluffy for either of them. Her tiny arms were wrapped around a stuffed rabbit that hadn't been there the night before.
Myiah blinked.
Where…?
She stood, still in her oversized hoodie and leggings, feet sinking into the plush rug as she moved toward the door. Her hands trembled on the knob, but she pulled it open slowly.
The hallway was quiet too.
Empty.
She padded forward, the chill of polished floors seeping through her socks.
The smell of food hit her next—miso broth, steamed rice, something sweet beneath it all.
Her stomach growled violently.
The kitchen was larger than most apartments she’d ever seen. Dark wood cabinets. Marble counters. Sleek and sterile—except for the kettle whistling gently on the stove and the small plate of sliced fruit resting beside a bowl of rice.
She hesitated at the threshold.
He was there.
Takuya.
Leaning against the far counter, sleeves rolled to the elbow, tattoos curling down his forearms like vines in black ink. He was reading something on his phone, one hand absently stirring a pot with the ease of someone who did this often.
He looked up.
Eyes sharp, but unreadable.
“You’re up.”
She didn’t respond right away.
His voice wasn’t cruel. Or even warm. Just flat. Like always. Like she remembered.
Still, something about him made her feel too visible.
“I… didn’t know where you were.”
“You’re safe. That’s all you need to know.”
She didn’t want to trust that.
But Emiko had slept peacefully.
That hadn’t happened in months.
He motioned to the plate. “Eat.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.” His voice sharpened just slightly. “Don’t lie to me.”
Her stomach answered for her again, gurgling loud enough to humiliate her. Her cheeks flushed hot.
She crossed the room, sat at the stool slowly, and picked up the chopsticks with trembling fingers.
He didn’t move. Didn’t watch her eat. Just turned back to the stove.
That, somehow, was worse.
She looked like she hadn't eaten in days.
He’d seen starving girls before. Runaways. Drug addicts. Orphans left behind by whatever storm swept through their lives. But she wasn’t like them.
She was proud. Too proud.
Even as she shoved the food into her mouth like she was afraid someone would take it, she sat tall. Chin high. Shoulders tense.
She didn’t want to be here.
He didn’t blame her.
But he also wasn’t going to let her leave.
Not like this.
“You have clothes in the closet,” he said after a moment, tone neutral. “Drawer’s stocked. Toothbrush. Soap. Whatever you need.”
She nodded stiffly.
“I’ll move you downstairs to the private suite once it’s cleared. Safer.”
“I don’t need—”
“You do,” he cut in. “You and the kid aren’t leaving this building unless I say so.”
Her eyes flared.
There it was.
Fire.
He hadn’t seen it last night—only the ashes of it. But now, in the safety of a warm room and a full stomach, a piece of her old self peeked through.
“You don’t get to control me,” she said quietly.
“I don’t want to.”
She blinked.
“I just want to keep you alive.”
Myiah
He didn’t say it like a threat.
That’s what made it worse.
She didn’t know what to do with someone like him. Someone who looked like a villain but acted like something else. Something silent and watchful and dangerous—but not cruel.
She had always known monsters to show their teeth.
Takuya never bared his.
He didn’t need to.
He carried violence in the way he breathed.
And yet…
He hadn’t raised his voice. He hadn’t asked why she was running. He hadn’t made her explain the bruises or the panic or the desperation.
He just made her rice. Left a stuffed rabbit beside her sister. Told her she was safe.
And maybe the scariest thing of all… was that she wanted to believe him.
Reiji found him on the rooftop again.
As usual.
“You gonna tell me why you’ve gone silent for 48 hours?” Reiji asked, dropping onto the bench beside him. “I’ve been fielding calls from the Kyoto branch. One of the Osaka boys wants to talk turf again.”
“Not now.”
Reiji looked at him. “She showed up, didn’t she.”
Takuya didn’t answer.
Reiji let out a low whistle. “Damn. I didn’t think she’d actually come. Figured you were just dreaming about old ghosts again.”
Takuya’s jaw flexed. “She’s not a ghost.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You were different around her. Quieter.”
“I’m already quiet.”
“Exactly.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
Reiji exhaled. “She look okay?”
“No.”
“She say what happened?”
Takuya shook his head.
“Will she?”
“I don’t know.”
But he would wait.
The new room was even bigger than the last. She hadn’t wanted to move, but Takuya had simply handed her a new key and disappeared down the hall.
No explanation.
No discussion.
The suite had two bedrooms. A kitchenette. A window view of the city skyline so wide and high it didn’t feel real.
She stood at the window now, staring at the glittering buildings, her arms wrapped around herself.
Emiko was asleep on the couch with a blanket up to her chin and a bowl of fruit half-eaten beside her. Takuya had made sure she had everything a child could need: crayons, cartoons, even bubble bath.
He hadn’t said a word to Myiah since breakfast.
She didn’t know if that disappointed her or relieved her.
He was confusing.
Everything about this was confusing.
For now, she wasn’t asking questions.
She was just trying to breathe.
- Writer
