Hisaki paused at the question, her fingers lingering on Shiro’s ankle.
It was that question again.
Last time in the bathtub, Shiro had sunk herself into the hot water and asked her in a hypothetical tone…
If I became a sickly mess, would you take care of me for the rest of my life?
That time she couldn’t answer, because she thought “if” was just a hypothetical.
But now she replayed it once more.
Hisaki set the tissue box on the coffee table, her movements so gentle they barely made a sound.
Then she let go of Shiro’s ankle, lifting the two small feet resting on her lap and placing them back on the sofa.
She turned around, one hand braced on the sofa cushion, the other reaching for the hem of Shiro’s nightgown, which had ridden up past her belly button.
The silk fabric made a faint rustling sound under her fingertips as she pulled the hem down little by little, covering the underwear printed with cartoon bears, all the way to the knees.
Then she reached both hands under Rina’s armpits and scooped up the boneless Shiro who had melted into the sofa.
A soft sound of surprise escaped Shiro’s lips, but before she could complain, the kidnapper adjusted her position…settling her head against her shoulder, one arm wrapped around her back, palm pressed against the back of her head, pulling her whole body into her embrace.
Hisaki lowered her head, her lips brushing against Shiro’s ear.
“As long as Shiro is still alive.”
Her voice was so soft, so soft it sounded like stating an obvious fact that needed no emphasis.
“As long as you still have breath, still breathing, still have a heartbeat.”
She paused…
“As long as you still have breath, still breathing, still have a heartbeat.”
“Whether it’s a vegetative state or brain death, as long as your heart is still beating, as long as Shiro hasn’t disappeared from this world… you’ll never be allowed to leave.”
Her arms tightened slightly, pressing Shiro closer into her embrace.
“Even if you can only lie in bed for the rest of your life, unable to even open your eyes… that’s still my Shiro.”
“Shiro can only be mine.”
She pulled back a little, her dark red eyes staring straight at Shiro.
“Understood?”
Rina was pressed against the kidnapper’s chest.
Hisaki’s tone when she said all that was different from usual…
No gentle coaxing like with a child, no coldness like when threatening, only the calm of someone stating a fact.
Like saying the sun rises in the east, like saying water flows downhill, like saying she just belongs to her.
To be honest, Rina wasn’t scared.
Not because those words weren’t terrifying…
Any normal person hearing those words should have triggered a level-ten alarm.
But she was used to it.
Used to this kidnapper’s possessiveness radiating at every moment, used to the obsession in those dark red eyes, used to being held and kissed, touched and treated like a precious private possession.
Words like that coming from the kidnapper’s mouth felt as natural as a weather forecast saying it would rain tomorrow.
“I know.”
Rina lifted her face from the kidnapper’s shoulder, her sky-blue eyes lazily glancing at her.
“Kind of cheesy~”
She finished speaking and dropped her head back onto the kidnapper’s shoulder.
Then she felt the kidnapper’s body shift slightly.
One of Hisaki’s hands slid under Shiro’s knee, lifting her entire body up.
Rina’s body left the sofa, her silver-white hair swaying in the air. She was carried by the kidnapper toward the master bedroom.
“…?”
Hisaki listened to Shiro’s complaints coming from her shoulder, muffled but without any struggle.
Two hours later, the living room.
Hisaki carried Shiro out of the master bedroom.
Rina hung limp and boneless in Hisaki’s arms.
Her face was buried in the hollow of Hisaki’s shoulder, only the nape of her neck visible, flushed with an unnatural red.
The silk nightgown was still the same silk nightgown, but it was at least three times more wrinkled than two hours ago. The straps had slipped down to her elbows, and the collar hung crookedly across her chest.
Her hobby.
Hisaki walked to the sofa, bent down, and gently set Shiro down.
The moment she left the kidnapper’s embrace, Rina’s body instinctively curled up…lying on her side on the sofa, knees drawn to her chest, hands tucked between her legs.
She rolled half a turn on the sofa, found the most comfortable position, and then stopped moving.
Hisaki’s gaze swept over Shiro’s body.
Two fresh red marks on the side of her neck, another patch below her collarbone, extending to where the nightgown collar covered.
On the inside of her right thigh… there was also a pink mark slowly fading.
Hisaki reached out, pinching the hem of Shiro’s nightgown with two fingers, gently pulling it down to cover the faint pink mark on her inner thigh.
Then she straightened up and walked toward the kitchen.
Hisaki stood at the counter of the open kitchen, taking ingredients out of the refrigerator.
She wouldn’t eat, but Shiro needed to.
She suddenly understood something in the human world called a “hobby”… for Hisaki, watching Shiro eat what she made was exactly that.
On the sofa, Rina struggled to turn over.
Her silver-white hair was a tangled mess, a few strands sticking to her forehead.
Her cheeks were still red, her lips slightly swollen, and the mark on her neck was especially visible under the sunlight filtering through the curtains.
She reached out, fumbling on the coffee table several times before finding the TV remote, then pressed the power button with one finger.
As the TV screen lit up, Rina was rubbing her cheeks with her other hand.
So sore.
That girl had way too much energy.
She kept complaining in her head while rubbing her face.
“Sigh…” Rina let out a sigh.
The TV automatically switched to the news channel.
On the screen appeared a female anchor with a serious expression. In the background was a pixelated photo, with bold text beside it…
“Multiple Kidnapping Cases in Our City”
Rina’s hand rubbing her cheek stopped.
The female anchor’s voice came through clearly from the TV.
“The victims are mostly middle school students, usually walking alone on their way home from school.”
“Police urge parents to strengthen supervision, and citizens who spot suspicious individuals should report to the police immediately.”
Wait, the kidnapper didn’t lure her away with candy.
The kidnapper took her directly from the bridge underpass, and while she was sprawled on the sofa cursing, scooped her up without a word and brought her home.
That wasn’t kidnapping, that should be called abduction.
But the kidnapper did say she would give her a home.
A warm, comfortable home.
She also said she would take care of her for the rest of her life.
Does that count as a kind of kidnapping?
Luring her back with the bait of “I’ll give you a home”?