Typhoons and Reflection

Awakening to the feeling of being dragged by my ankles through a dimly lit warehouse had never been on my bucket list, but neither was what awaited me on the second story of the hellscape that I didn't know at the time was where the Bara-gumi's iron-fisted ruler conducted heinous crimes that could make even a seasoned soldier's skin crawl. My head pounded with each second, and it wasn't strictly due to having been assaulted earlier that day. It was because these assholes were dragging me in a way that purposely made my head thud against each step of the stairs as we ascended.

"You fucking pigs."
My voice came out as nothing more than a whisper.
"I swear to God, I'll-"
Another step caused my head to bang against the second story floor before I could finish my sentence.

The handsome-faced man with the mouth scar gently knocked on a wooden door that sat directly at the top of the stairs. Despite the beautiful rose petal engravings protruding from its surface, it felt as if I were staring directly at the gates of Hell.

"You may enter."
That confidently seductive feminine voice on the other end caused my skin to harden with goosebumps. Much like that man with the mouth scar, I knew deep down that I would never forget that voice. It was almost mocking with a sultry tone, like whoever was on the other side of the door was waiting for a new toy to play with. I knew the truth before the man with the mouth scar could even open the door; it could be no one except Ninagawa Charlotte awaiting me just a few meters away.

I had never personally encountered her before, but Sanya, where we lived in Arakawa-ku, wasn't a very big place. Thoughts of imminent death clouded my mind, and remembering the local legends about her grim persona was doing little to ease my increasing anxiety. Slowly, I closed my eyes as the men dragged me into the tobacco-scented room; the soft click of the door locking behind me sent a shiver down my spine.

"My, what a cute little thing. What's your name?"
Her husky voice slithered into my eardrums with a hint of maternal admiration.

"Look at me when I address you, little girl."
Ninagawa Charlotte spoke with authoritative volume, her red lips puffing elegantly against the tip of her ivory-coated kiseru pipe.

I reluctantly opened my eyes, scanning the features of the intimidating figure that leaned almost cutely against the edge of her desk before me. Her silky black hair was styled atop her head in a very messy bun, two metal hairpins sticking out from either side; her eyes were a deeper shade of red than the color of blood. What stood out to me the most was her aristocratic stance and the sexy curvature of her hips hiding beneath her silk kimono, which of course had been hand-sewn with red rose flowers.

"I know who you are."
My eyes met hers with a hint of defiance, slightly challenging her absolute dominance over me in this situation that very clearly favored her.

"I'll bet you do."
She gently pushed herself off her desk, towering over me with that disgusting smile.
"Most, if not all, people in Sanya know who I am. Now, answer my question."

I audibly gulped, my previously parched throat becoming increasingly dry.
"Mika... Umeda Mika."
I staggered to my feet, falling to my knees a few times before straightening myself into a pathetic stance.

Charlotte's eyes seemed to flicker for just a fraction of a second, but her guise returned with an even creepier smile than the first.
"Umeda? Fascinating how small the world is, no?"
A low chuckle escaped her lips as she began to circle me, slow, rhythmic steps.
"Now that I look closer, you definitely share a resemblance."

"What are you talking about?"
Instinctively, I hugged my elbow close to my body. Something about this woman brought out a natural fight-or-flight response that I hadn't been strong enough to try to mask.

"Don't worry about it, little girl. I'm simply reminiscing on a fond memory. Mika, was it?"
She blew a ring of smoke directly into my face.
"You must be exhausted, having been caught in that nasty typhoon. You should thank my men for saving you from those harsh conditions."

My face contorted in rage. I stomped my foot and huffed as loud as my voice would allow me to shout.
"Your men?! They kicked me until I passed out! Over what, fifty-two thousand yen?! You fucking cheapskates!"

Charlotte's smirk faltered, the flesh between her eyebrows wrinkling as she lowered her gaze to meet mine.
"Watch your mouth, brat."
Her fingers locked onto my earlobe, tugging my face dangerously close to hers.
"I don't tolerate being talked down to, especially by worthless puppies who think they're hot shit."

Nervously, I smirked. I knew exactly what I needed to say to fluster her. There was something exciting about the idea of pissing off someone so entitled and narcissistic. I mustered up as much courage as I could, not caring about the future consequences in what I imagined would be my final moments.
"What's got your panties so bunched up, Charlotte? Fifty-two thousand should be chump change to someone like you. Could it be that you're just a lowly gang member with a small fortune trying to hang with the big dogs?"

Before I could finish blinking, I heard an unfamiliar click from the left side of my head. Something hard and metallic had been pressed up against the side of my temple, and despite my glance, I could immediately tell what it was.

"Did you say something about being a lowly gang member, puppy?"
The man with the mouth scar had unwavering confidence as he held that black pistol against my head. His loyalty to Charlotte left no questions in my mind that he would pull the trigger if my next words didn't perfectly comply with Charlotte's every whim.

"That's enough, Kazuya. Stand down."
Her fingers remained latched around my ear.
"She isn't worth the mess her brains would make in my office."

My eyes began to quiver as the man known as Kazuya lowered his weapon. I watched as Charlotte pulled her hand back and wiped it clean with a handkerchief, as if my filth had insulted her very being.

"Toss her out back and give her a bath. I have plans for this feisty little mutt after her outburst today."

Plans? What plans?! Just give me my lashings and I'll be on my way!
I glared at her over my shoulder as the men escorted me back down the stairs and toward an unknown destination.

* * *

I soon learned what she meant by 'give her a bath.'

My clothes were forcibly ripped from my body and discarded like garbage as the men chained my arm to the rain gutter outside the warehouse we had just been in minutes prior. I stood there, completely naked as those same men fired up an old, dusty pressure washer and aimed the nozzle directly at my face.

I cried out in pain while three thousand PSI blasted my cold skin and practically cut the filth and grime clean from my body. I clenched my eyes shut and squatted low to avoid as much pain to my sensitive areas as possible, but that only seemed to egg them on as they laughed mockingly and sprayed my chest at a dangerously close proximity. The man known as Kazuya watched idly from the comfort of an awning as the rain and soapy water doused my fragile frame.

My eyes locked onto his, and I shouted through my tears,
"Please... make them stop!"

Immediately, Kazuya stepped forward into the rain.
"That's enough. She's clean."

The men refused to listen, still spraying my chest and stomach from just a few feet away. I sobbed loudly as the pressure caused my skin to bruise and peel.

"Are you deaf?! She's skin and bones!"
Kazuya snatched the nozzle from their hands, offering a glare so dangerous that I wouldn't be surprised if those men had pissed their pants on the spot.

I could overhear them stuttering softly as they turned the washer off and headed inside with less swagger in their step than before. I looked up at Kazuya, who was removing my shackles from the gutter and guiding me back inside from a safe distance. I whispered,
"Thank you."

Without so much as turning his head, Kazuya lowered his voice and spoke to me.
"Don't thank me, puppy. I'm not so crass as to torture a defenseless child... That's my boss's job."

I felt a hand on my back push me forward; helplessly, I stumbled into a thick iron cage that had been bolted to the floor and sides of the wall. My feet scraped heavily against the cold, rough concrete below, and I found myself falling ass-first onto the pavement.

As the door behind me clicked shut, Kazuya fastened a combination lock around a heavy chain that hugged the iron door shut against its foundation.
"What are you doing?! What do you mean by torturing children?!"
I shouted desperately from my position on my knees.

Kazuya tossed a large, musky-scented blanket through the bars, landing softly against my naked thighs.
"You shouldn't have pissed off Charlotte. You didn't know how easy you had it until now."
The butt end of his cigar emitted an ominous string of thick smoke, shrouding his face in mystery as he stepped further into the warehouse's one and only hallway.
"Sleep if you can, puppy. You'll start your training in the morning."

Training?! What training?! What the hell is Charlotte going to do to me?!

My mind raced with uncertainty as I hugged that disgusting blanket firmly around myself; the only light I could see was coming from the door atop the staircase where Ninagawa Charlotte had spared my life with the intention of doing something much worse. It seems her fragile little ego was exactly as the rumors had stated. This woman craved totalitarianism, so much that even talking back to her would make you end up inside a rusted cage awaiting unknown torture. I had heard stories of yakuza members trafficking little girls before, but something was telling me it would be far worse than anything I could imagine. Just what kind of training was Kazuya hinting at? Why would Ninagawa Charlotte have any use for someone as pathetic as me, the Loser Dog of Tokyo?

That night, I didn't sleep a wink.