The water dripped, slowly, loudly. Rina groaned. Had she left the tap open again? She shifted, her muscles sore and aching, a chill snuck into her limbs. Sniffing, she coughed at the humidity in the air. Had she forgotten the humidifier too? Rina shifted on the couch.
She hissed, eyes fluttering open as her skin grated against the rough surface of the couch…?
Rina recoiled, her head throbbing in time with her heartbeat, pumping like a rollercoaster eternally stuck at the highest point. She looked around her through blurred eyesight, the room wide and cluttered, mottled by dust fairies swirling about her head.
This wasn't her home. She'd been kidnapped but third uncle had burst in at the last moment...held her close as blood trickled from the hole where her heart used to be – she screamed, frantically patting her chest, bony fragile thing but whole still – third uncle said he'd take her home, cursed the witch, and when a flush covered his cheeks and fury ignited his eyes, he had kicked her body clear across the room. Rina remembered the patches of red, remembered the clump of blood and flesh and inky hair.
She died, undoubtedly.
So, where did she wake up?
The door creaked ominously, banged against the wall, and through the threshold stepped a giant of a man; his sandy blond hair was slicked back, his blue eyes narrowed and his scowl directed at her. She'd been kidnapped again? What kind of shitty luck did the fates give her...
Except, images flashed through her mind, a loose thought or two and a name screamed like a banshees' reckoning.
Steve Kay. Her father. No, no, no, her father was Neji Okinawa, head priest under her grandfather. He had black hair and brown eyes; he was a slight man of a barely average height.
"What's with all the fucking noise?"
"What?"
"You lost your mind girl?" the man snapped, his voice rough gravel.
"What?"
"This fucking – get downstairs and cook!"
He stomped off. Rina could still hear him walking through the rest of the house. What the fuck had she gotten herself into?
Her head swam with vertigo, and Rina clutched her head as nausea curled in her guts. Home, she had to find a way home. She stumbled, legs shaking, took two steps before her legs gave in and she collapsed on her knees. Rina tried again, and again, and somehow, she made it past the wet, chipped, crumbling door to a high landing; there she gave up.
She sat there for about twenty minutes, then the man called for her again – her name was not Karina, why did he call her that – Rina crawled down the stairs.
She dared to stand on the second to last step, her foot slid but the man called Steve caught her by the elbow. Up close, Rina was assaulted by the strong stench of alcohol.
"Get to work," he said softly.
Rina stared, mouth wide open, words stuck in her throat. She had questions she couldn't ask, she had worries she couldn't sooth, and this behemoth of a man made her mind wail in agony (not her mind, those weren't her memories). He trudged upstairs, the liquor in the bottle sloshing with every step, he swayed precariously. Rina feared he might topple over, yet he made it to the landing with half the contents of the bottle.
She waited for him to slide out of sight, leg bouncing uncontrollably. She bit her lip and the second she was alone; Rina made a run for the door. Crisp air struck her, that alone clearing some of the fuzziness in her eyesight. She took a step, paused, took another, gasped in horror; on the sky opposite the sun was a moon dyed a purplish colour.
"Oi! Are you trying to run away again?"
Rina startled. The voice, despite its deep tenor, was not the one belonging to the man named Steve. She turned stiffly; muscles locked with tension.
In the doorway stood a teenage boy with the same sandy blonde hair and blue eyes as Steve, he was a head taller than her but nothing like that bear of a man. Even his scowl resembled his father. Another bunch of messy memories flashed through her mind; the one that stood out, however, was the raised palm aiming for her head and the gleeful smirk.
Rina flinched. She stepped back, he stepped forward. She bit the inside of her cheek, walked towards him slowly, and when she was within a foot's distance crouched down, breathing heavily. He scoffed, grabbing her by the shoulder. Rina threw the handful of dirt at his face, he screamed and bowled over. She kneed him in the balls, just for security and no other underlying grudges. Really.
With that done, she stumbled into the copse of trees, her brother's wretched cries fading slowly (not her brother, her sweet, dorky brother would never raise a hand against his older sister).