The school bell tolled its final note, an echo that signaled the end of another ordinary day. Yet, for Yasushi, Jingliu, Xinyi, and Furuya, this was not a day like any other. They moved with purpose, a silent accord guiding their steps to the infirmary where Laura lay recovering. The hallway, usually bustling with end-of-day chatter, felt unusually quiet, as if the walls themselves knew to hold their breath in anticipation.
As they approached the infirmary, Laura's family came into view, a small, intimate cluster around her bed. Laura's mother, her face a mix of relief and lingering worry, saw them first. She broke away from the group, her arms outstretched toward Xinyi.
The embrace was tight, almost desperate, as if trying to transfer some of her own strength to the younger girl. Laura's father, more reserved, placed a firm hand on Yasushi's shoulder, his grip conveying a silent gratitude.
"Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, before turning his attention back to his daughter, his world.
Xinyi, awkward in the face of such raw emotion, returned the hug half-heartedly. "Laura tried to protect me and got hurt. I still feel guilty, ma'am," she murmured, her words almost swallowed by the room's hushed atmosphere.
Laura, overhearing, let out a sigh. "I knew you'd blame yourself. Stop it. It was instinct, nothing more. Don't take this on yourself, jeez," she said, her voice a mix of exasperation and affection. "I'm out of shock now, really. I'm fine. I just need this to heal." She grinned at Xinyi, a grin that held more reassurance than any words could. Xinyi, feeling the warmth of that smile, managed one of her own.
The infirmary doors swung open once more, and a new group entered. Yinhaie led the way, followed by others who seemed to carry the weight of their own concerns. Among them, the head maid of Xinyi's household stood out, her presence a stark reminder of the world outside these walls, a world that continued to turn despite the day's events.
"Yinhaie?" Jingliu's voice sliced through the thick air, her eyes narrowing as she took in the unexpected presence of her maid. There was something almost surreal about seeing Yinhaie here, in the sterile light of the infirmary, as if two disparate worlds had collided.
Yinhaie's smile was gentle but held a certain firmness. She turned, her attention shifting seamlessly to Laura's parents. "We'll be increasing security around your home while this threat lingers. Please rest assured, it's only a temporary measure. We aim to resolve the situation by tonight," she said, her words measured and calm, yet carrying an undercurrent of unspoken urgency. Her eyes flicked briefly to Yasushi, a silent acknowledgment that didn't go unnoticed.
Her gaze then moved to Furuya, and her tone softened, just a fraction. "The same arrangements will be made for you, Furuya. Your parents have been informed and are waiting for you at the baseball field. They want to watch you practice today."
Furuya's face turned a shade of pink, a mix of embarrassment and surprise. He nodded silently, the weight of this new information settling over him.
Yinhaie's attention finally returned to Yasushi and Jingliu. Her expression grew serious, a quiet intensity behind her eyes. "I need to speak with both of you later. It's important."
Yasushi and Jingliu exchanged a brief glance, a silent conversation passing between them. They nodded in unison, their agreement wordless but understood.
The conversations flowed in the infirmary, a series of explanations and reassurances mingling with the ambient hum of medical equipment. Parents consoled children, friends exchanged glances laden with unspoken concerns, and slowly, the room began to empty. The air grew lighter as each group departed, until only Yinhaie, Yasushi, and Jingliu remained.
"What's this important thing? And what do you mean you'll have this resolved by tonight?" Yasushi's voice broke the lingering silence, his eyebrow arched in a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
Yinhaie's response was measured, her eyes briefly scanning the room as if to ensure they were truly alone. "It would be best to speak about this in a more private place. Please follow me to the car. I will drive us home," she said. There was no room for debate in her tone.
They left the school quickly, the transition from the sterile white of the infirmary to the twilight-drenched exterior almost jarring. The car, a sleek, unassuming vehicle, stood waiting. The drive started in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound until Yinhaie spoke again.
"We will be conducting a small operation tonight, but I will need your help for it, Yasushi. We—"
"I'll be bait, right? Sure, I'm game," Yasushi interjected, a smirk playing on his lips. His nonchalance startled Yinhaie, her usually composed demeanor momentarily faltering.
Jingliu, sitting in the back seat, felt a surge of panic. She stared at Yinhaie, seeking confirmation, and saw the shock mirrored in her eyes. Yasushi's confidence was unsettling, his willingness to dive headfirst into danger leaving her breathless. "Are you serious? This is dangerous. What if it goes wrong?"
The car's interior seemed to close in around them, the weight of the conversation pressing down like an invisible force. Yinhaie took a deep breath, regaining her composure. "Yes, it is dangerous," she admitted, her voice steady but solemn. "But we've prepared extensively. Yasushi's involvement increases our chances of success."
Yasushi's smirk softened, his expression growing serious. "I know the risks, Jingliu. But we can't keep running. If I can help end this, I will."
Jingliu's frown deepened, her worry carving furrows into her brow. "You're still hurt," she said, her voice laced with concern. "Even if it's not as bad now, it'll still hinder your usefulness. That increases the chance of things going wrong."
Yasushi's reply came quickly, almost too quickly. "I've used a broken hand to fight before. This is nothing. It'll be fine." His attempt at reassurance fell flat, the bravado in his voice only serving to heighten Jingliu's anxiety. He saw the panic flash in her eyes and instantly regretted his words, shifting his gaze away to the blur of city lights outside the window. "Like I said, it'll be fine," he repeated, more softly this time. "Yinhaie probably has something for it, right?"
Yinhaie's nod was calm, steady, as if she were used to managing such high-stakes situations. They wove through the city's traffic, the car a silent cocoon amidst the chaos outside. "Yes," she confirmed, her voice carrying the weight of assurance. "We have painkillers, along with an experimental drug developed with the help of Lady Jingliu's parents, Xinyi, and your parents."
Jingliu's eyes widened slightly, the mention of her parents and their involvement adding another layer of complexity to the situation. Her parents, always so distant, their influence rarely felt in her immediate world, were now intricately woven into this operation. It was unsettling, the realization that this small group was connected by more than just circumstance.
Yasushi's curiosity was piqued, his eyes narrowing with interest. "What does it do?" he asked, his voice cutting through the tense silence.
Yinhaie's explanation was deliberate, each word carefully chosen. "It accelerates the healing process, restoring most wounds to a functional state. For a short time, you'll regain full use of your body — one hundred percent. But there's a catch. It only lasts for twenty minutes. After that, your body will revert to its current, slightly healed condition."
The explanation hung in the air, the weight of her words pressing down on them. Yasushi's mind raced, envisioning the possibilities, the risks.
"So, let's say I gave it to someone with a large gash in their stomach," Yinhaie continued, her tone clinical yet grave. "The drug would temporarily close the wound, allowing them to move and fight as if they were uninjured. But once the twenty minutes are up, without proper medical attention, the wound would reopen, leaving them in serious trouble."
Her words painted a vivid picture, the scenario playing out in Yasushi's mind with stark clarity. The promise of temporary invulnerability was alluring, but the ticking clock that came with it was a sobering reminder of its limitations.
Jingliu, sitting quietly beside him, absorbed every detail. The tension in the car thickened, the enormity of what they were about to undertake settling heavily upon them. She could almost feel the seconds slipping away, each one bringing them closer to the moment when the drug's effects would wear off, leaving them vulnerable once more.
Yasushi's thoughts churned, a whirlwind of possibilities and strategies. The idea of being temporarily invincible was both thrilling and terrifying. He had faced danger before, but this added an unpredictable element, a countdown that could mean the difference between success and failure.
"Twenty minutes," he repeated, almost to himself, testing the weight of those words. "We have to make every second count."
Yinhaie nodded, her eyes meeting his in the rearview mirror. "Precisely. Timing will be everything. We've planned for contingencies, but the key to our success will be your ability to make the most of those twenty minutes."
Jingliu didn't say a word. Instead, she tightened her grip on Yasushi's arm, her fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeve, her face etched with a silent frown. The weight of her unspoken fears pressed into the space between them. Yasushi felt the tension radiating from her, a palpable presence that settled over them like a thick fog.
The rest of the car ride home was enveloped in silence. The usual hum of conversation was replaced by the quiet murmur of the engine and the rhythmic pattern of the city passing by.
+-+
Yasushi stood alone in the vast, echoing emptiness of an abandoned warehouse, the shadows dancing around him as if they were alive. He had been "chased" here by masked figures, their silent pursuit leading him into this desolate space.
The air was thick with the smell of rust and decay, a testament to the building's long-forgotten purpose. Yasushi moved with purpose towards the only source of light, a solitary spotlight that illuminated a small circle in the center of the warehouse. It cast a harsh glow, turning the surrounding darkness into an impenetrable void.
The sound of slow, deliberate clapping reverberated through the cavernous space, sending a chill down Yasushi's spine. The clapping was mocking, filled with a sinister amusement. Out of the shadows, a figure emerged, moving with an almost feline grace. Short white hair caught the light, and golden eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger.
"Bravo, my friend," Saisei sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. "I didn't think you were stupid enough to go out at night. I thought rich people were a lot more careful. But I guess I was wrong."
Saisei's laughter echoed around the warehouse, a chilling sound that seemed to bounce off the walls. "Then, let's start—!"
His words were abruptly cut off as Yasushi's fist connected with his face, the impact sending Saisei sprawling backward. The force of the punch echoed in the silence, a sharp, resounding crack that filled the air. Saisei hit the ground with a heavy thud, a pained grunt escaping his lips as he crumpled into a heap. He coughed violently, the taste of blood and bile rising in his throat as he retched up the remnants of his dinner.
"Shut the hell up," Yasushi snarled, his voice cold and unyielding. He flexed his gloved fists, the leather gleaming in the harsh light. "If you want a fight, then get on with it. I don't need your shitty villain monologue."
Yasushi's smirk was feral, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. He took a step forward, his presence commanding and unyielding. "Who the fuck's next?" he challenged, his voice carrying through the warehouse with a raw, unfiltered power.