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Fiverr Artist: yasminechuan

Teru scolded himself for losing his grey mittens. He was positive he had dropped them when that drunkard bumped into him at the bus station. After he tripped on the icy sidewalk, his hand was scratched and bleeding where he had caught himself.

Though Teru later got off the bus to backtrack to Hakata Station to find them, they were gone. It was unusual! If something was lost, samaritans would always put the item aside for the owner to find it later. Literally, there was a left-behind umbrella hung behind the bench, where it had been for the past eight months! Why hadn't the thief done the same when he was only gone for fifteen minutes?!

The mittens were Teru's favorite pair and had worn them whenever he was cold. Mom spent a good while hand-sewing a crane on the backsides; a little gaudy for his generation who preferred anime and English word designs, but it was a labor of love. That made them worth more than any brand-name designer mittens.

Sorry, Mom.

This especially upset him because it was the last gift from her ever since his parent's unfortunate car accident three years ago. There were many rumors and speculations about the circumstances behind it; possible foul play involving bad people. It was much too complicated for Teru to think about now.

He threw the stressful thoughts of the mafia into a box in his mind and closed it. He wished it would stay locked away forever, along with the other boxes of messed up secrets that no one should discover about himself.

Teru would try not to let this ruin his evening. 'Try' was the keyword.

Groaning at how frostbitten his fingers felt, he yawned and shoved his hands in his coat pocket. He was freezing despite being on the heated bus, heading home to his apartment. He shared it with Yuta, who was two years older and his high school sweetheart.

At 4:30 P.M., the sun was already setting, pretty normal for December.

For the past year, Teru had been working at a convenience store when he turned 19 in the fall. Minimum wage, but the nightshift hours made the paycheck slightly higher than the day hours.

Teru was supposed to get off work earlier that day at 10 A.M. since he was part of the night crew, but his boss frantically begged and bowed for him to cover for his flaky co-worker. Supposedly, she caught a cold. That was bullshit. The truth was, no one wanted to work on New Year's Eve.

Feeling bad for his elderly boss, Teru reluctantly worked two shifts. He was given a baggie of almost-expired cakes from their location that would've been thrown away as a thank you.

I hope Yuta isn't upset because I missed our lunch date. He oddly sounded okay with it when I told him I wouldn't be home until the evening.

This setback was frustrating. It wasn't a career Teru wanted to stay at forever. One day, he wanted to try out for Japan's Olympic air rifle team, a sport his father had randomly encouraged him to do. Karate? Baseball? No, let's put our only son in classes to learn how to shoot.

And damn, was Teru good at it, getting the bullseye every time.

"He'll shoot your eye out," his coach would say in English about him. It was a funny pun.

The problem was Yuta, whose money situation became worse month by month. His boyfriend's gambling addiction began a year ago when a classmate introduced him to Pachinko on his twentieth birthday, aka slot machines. It went downhill from there.

Teru took a temporary break from the air rifle club to work and bring in additional money. He'll never forget the horrified look on Lucas's face, his childhood friend and fellow club member, after rifle practice when he told him he'd be taking leave for a while from any activities.

Teru never saw Yuta any less than a man, always that same boy who had saved him from bullies during their first year of high school. Everyone had their pros and cons, ups and downs. He was willing to overlook it since Teru loved him and how Yuta promised to get help next year.

Well, next year was tomorrow. Today was December 31st.

Yuta had his first day at the residential treatment center for two months on January 4th after the holidays were over. Teru wrote daily reminders on his calendar:

...and so on for eight weeks. You get the gist. It was all set up. While Yuta recovered, he'd focus on work, rearrange the apartment, clean, and make a reservation at a private hot spring resort in Oita as a congratulations gift.

The bus gradually left the city's center to the outskirts. Getting squished between the congested crowd of people trying to get home, he daydreamed of tonight.

It was difficult to hide their five-year relationship in public. Society was still so conservative. Slowly improving, but not enough to hold hands where people could see. Even straight relationships rarely showed affection.

But at home, they didn't have to hide.

Tonight, they would eat a homemade meal, watch a movie until late afternoon, cuddle, kiss, and finally lose his virginity.

Yes, Teru was still a virgin.

It was something he felt he had to save for the right time. Yuta wanted to go further than third base, but Teru always denied the advances to go 'all the way.' He didn't know why. Timing? Age? Nervousness? All the above?

That would change tonight. After months of deliberating and going back and forth with himself, Teru made up his mind to lose the V card. There was even lube and condoms he bought a few days ago under his folded socks in the drawer. It was embarrassing to buy them at the pharmacy, especially when the elderly woman employee practically yelled, "Do you need a black bag?"

The colored baggies were designated for personal hygiene items such as feminine products and sexual-related things. "Y-yes," Teru squeaked, cheeks hot under his face mask.

Seeing the heavy snowfall out the window, Teru swiped up on his cellphone to see the weather app. He winced at the pain in his palms, needing to be disinfected.

It was five degrees Celcius. Too cold.

SCREEEEEECH.

"This is xxxxx Station," the automatic voice announced. Finally. The bus took longer to arrive here because of Saturday night rush hour; Saturday night, New Year's Eve rush hour at 6:10 P.M. You couldn't get busier than that!

Teru weaved through the heavy crowd of people to get to the front, scanned his bus ID to pay the fare, and got off.

He had no time to waste. There was so much to prepare! He speed-walked past the pedestrian crossing and through the alleyways to the rundown apartment. The building itself wasn't big and in desperate need of renovations. The roof sagged and cockroaches were an issue in the summer! It was seven stories high with one studio apartment on each floor. Feral cats controlled the area because the old couple living next door in a crumbling house liked to feed the strays.

The rent was insanely low. Could you imagine why? They'd leave this deplorable place in the future. The future was all he had to look forward to, to a brighter life.

Before going inside, Teru stopped and observed their windows above. The lights were off. All of them. Curtains shut. Yuta should definitely be home. He was on school vacation for the week, so no classes and no part-time job as a professor's assistant in the finance department.

I guess he's sleeping. That's fine. I'll start cooking our meal and wake him up when it's done.

Teru entered the building's access code. The lock opened. He took the stairs to the third floor. It seemed the neighbors were gone, too, silent in the whole place. When he inserted the house key into the master lock, it was...already unlocked? Yuta was always paranoid about leaving the front door unlocked, even when they were home.

He cautiously opened the door, greeted by the darkness. Closing it behind him, Teru was swallowed by pitch black. His hand searched the wall for the light switch. The ceiling light lit up the-

His eyes were roughly covered. Teru couldn't see! "What-?"

A hand gripped his coat collar and yanked.

Teru was thrown to the floor. "OOF!" he gasped loudly. He struggled and fought with the person trying to tie his hands behind him. Rolling around, his face found the assaulter's arm.

CHOMP.

He bit hard, tasting nasty blood pooling into his mouth.

"AHH! SHIT! I'M GONNA KILL HIM!" they yelled in a dialect, not from Fukuoka. "Gag him!"

Teru didn't know this voice. It was certainly an intruder! A robber! Only one? More? Damn it! "Where's Yuta?!," he begged. "We don't have anything worth stealing-!" A cloth was shoved in his mouth. Great. So now he couldn't talk and see!

I'm scared! Yuta!

The angered man kicked him in the temple, stunning him. His mind spun. Ears ringing.

A second set of hands forced him onto his belly, tying his wrists and ankles together. The two strangers sighed.

"Did you let this kid bite you? And you have how much experience in fighting? Idiot."

"How was I supposed to know he'd fight back like a trapped dog with that small body? He's lucky we were ordered not to hurt him or I'd have cut off an ear by now."

Cut off an ear?!

"You kinda did hurt him. There's a lot of blood in his hair, you fucker. He belongs to the company. Boss ain't gonna be happy."

"Do you not see this bite?! That's gonna need stitches!"

It was difficult to follow the rest of the conversation. Teru's head felt like it was splitting open. "Whooo are you? What...do youuu want?" he slurred. "I don't havvve...much savingsss!"

Ignoring him, one of them said, "Let's load him in the car."

C-car?!

In a dizzying flurry of motions, Teru found himself in a fetal position on a vehicle's backseat. He didn't remember getting here. The engine started. They headed to a mysterious destination.

His kidnappers didn't talk. Time was slow. Time was fast. Positive he passed out numerous times, Teru tried to reason with them, but his words came out as unintelligible moans. Blackout again. Was he awake? Maybe. It was always dark.

The car stopped moving. Hands touched him, flinging him over a broad set of shoulders. Stabbing pain in his brain. Confusion. The constant sway of walking, side-to-side-

Blergh, Teru puked from nausea, but the cloth made him choke on the bitter bile.

I can't breathe!

"Damn it," they complained, removing it and the one covering his eyes, too. Teru's vomit leaked from the corners of his mouth as he lost consciousness again.

Wake up. The lights hurt his eyes. Teru realized he was lying on a couch, a nice leather couch that likely cost his whole year's salary. Squinting, the room came into focus. Where-? It was fancy as hell, more like a CEO's office with a million-dollar city view. Fukuoka's lights twinkled on the horizon. The full moon blazed over the ocean.

The headache came back, vision spinning. "Ugh."

A gentle touch gripped his chin, moving his head to examine both sides. The new stranger hovering above him was fuzzy. A thumb pressed against the nasty bump forming next to his hairline. "His wounds on his face and hands...who injured my property?" he said in a calm manner.

No answer. He released Teru's face, standing up straight.

"WHO INJURED MY PROPERTY?!" he roared.

"Me! Me! It was me, Mr. Ó Cearbhaill!"

The furious voice seethed, "Yuta Tanaka ran out of town, along with his mountain of debt. This kid, Teru, is the agreed collateral in our contract if Tanaka were to ever fail to repay our loans to him. And he fucking disappeared today, knowing I'd be sending you to retrieve five months' worth of payment the hard way. Clearly, he doesn't care about his partner since I see him in my office, ruining my custom furniture. I want to know why my repayment is damaged."

CRASH! Glass broke.

"Boss, wait! That little whore bit me! Just look at my arm! Plus, I wasn't responsible for his hands-"

BANG!

Teru's concussion didn't stop him from flinching at the ear-deafening sound. A gun?! Was that a gun?! Yuta?! What did he do?! Collateral? Contract?

A heavy object crashed to the pristine floor. THUD. More breaking glass. Immediately, Teru heard something being dragged away.

This is crazy! They are crazy!

Teru wiggled violently until he fell onto the soft rug, landing on his side. His fingers touched water. The painful wave of confusion receded, allowing him to see what he was feeling.

It wasn't water. The color was red. Blood. Teru scooted quickly behind him, eyes wide open while staring at the spreading puddle of thick, congealing blood.

THUMP. His backside touched the wall.

Walls didn't have shoes.

"Eep!" he yelled in fright, scooting the other way until he sat in a ball in the corner.

Teru stared at a tall foreigner in a formal suit next to the pool of blood, with splatters on his blazer jacket after the shooting earlier. A crimson trail led to the door. Did...someone get killed?! Dead?!

The man's burgundy, slicked-back hair was a few shades darker than blood and his green eyes sparkled under the crystal chandelier. He would be lying if he said this person wasn't beautiful. Just his powerful presence alone demanded your undivided attention. Serious. Cruel.

Mafia.

Specifically, a mafia boss.

Teru was in the wolf's den, facing the alpha himself.

He noticed that the dangerous man wasn't even staring at Teru. Rather, he was glaring without blinking at his own pinky. His foresty eyes slowly moved down, following the air until resting on Teru's hand.

When Teru also looked at his hand, his eyebrows furrowed. A bright red ribbon was bowtied to the base of his little finger. Doing the same as the mafia boss, he eyed the ribbon to its end.

The other side was tied to their pinky, too, connecting them together.

They then met each other's eyes, brown and green. There was no way this could be real. Was Teru drugged? Seeing hallucinations from hurting his head?

It was just a myth, a children's story.

In Western culture, they had the 'pinkie swear,' a gesture to signify a promise that had been made.

For Japan, the gods predestined two humans once born. If soulmates should ever meet, a red ribbon would appear around their pinkies, binding them forever.

To understand their faults and thrive as a pair.

To spend their lives together, unable to break the ribbon no matter how much they tried to sever or tangle it. Only they could see the thread, invisible to others.

It was real.

The red string of fate.

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