After the adrenaline finally drained from her limbs, Inori steadied her breathing. The world felt heavier now, as though the mist itself had settled into her bones. Only then did she dare lift her gaze, meeting the masked man's eyes through the faint glow of the streetlights. He gave her a small, firm nod.
"It's safe now," he said, his voice huskier than she expected. The low rumble of an old man who had seen too many mornings like this. "What's your name, miss?"
Inori blinked. The question felt strangely ordinary after the nightmare that had unfolded. She bowed quickly, the motion careful and deep. "Ah… my name is Tabata Inori, sir."
The words came out more formal than she intended. Whatever he was, Priest or wrestler, he had saved her life. That demanded respect.
"Tabata Inori." He tested the name slowly, as if tasting it, then smiled beneath the red leather mask. "What a lovely name."
Heat crept up Inori's cheeks. She managed a small, flustered smile in return. Inside, a fragile spark of relief flickered. 'I… I can't believe I'm alive. I almost wet myself, but I didn't die…!' The thought made her grin, just a little. Surviving a Sinner felt like a quiet victory she had never earned.
The moment stretched between them, quiet except for the distant drip of water from the bridge and her own shaky breathing. The air still carried the faint metallic trace of blood and ash. Then the man shifted his weight, as though preparing to leave.
That small movement jolted her. She remembered with a sudden mental pang.
"Ah, excuse me!" Inori called out, pointing with pleading eyes. "Please, sir… could you do me a favor and lend me your phone? I need to call my father. It's urgent!"
He scratched the back of his neck with less energy than before. "Ah, sorry, miss. I'm not with it. These snug briefs don't come with pockets, you see?" A hearty laugh followed as he flaunted his scarce costume.
Inori was not amused. Her shoulders slumped with a quiet sigh. She would have to find another way.
Before the sigh could fully escape, his golden cross gave a sharp buzz against his chest, vibrating like a phone. He caught it in his palm and lifted it to his jaw, answering with clipped, low replies she could not hear. Whatever the message was, it sounded urgent.
"Wait," Inori said, realization dawning slowly. She pointed at the cross. "Isn't that a phone?"
"Huh? Oh, this?" He glanced down. "Sorry to disappoint, but it's for Priests to receive distress signals." His attention snapped back to the call, and Inori fell silent, watching the way the cross glowed faintly against his hairy chest.
A few long seconds passed. He lowered it, letting the cross rest once more. "Okay, miss, I have to go. I checked the area and that was the only Sinner. You should be safe." He offered a thumbs-up, bright and oddly cheerful.
Inori's stomach twisted at the thought of being left alone again. "There's a police station nearby. Just tell them to lend you a phone, okay?" His voice grew a little louder, as if to reassure her.
Inori slumped further. "D-do you really have to go? Oh please… stay with me." The words slipped out before she could stop them. Her hand reached forward, trembling. The idea of walking the empty streets alone made her throat tighten.
"Sorry, but it's urgent." His tone was gentle, yet final. "Some people, just like you, are in danger. The station's a straight walk ahead. Don't be scared, okay?" He struck one last goofy pose, arms wide, legs squatting low, trying to coax a smile from her.
"Nice costume, by the way.... the dyed hair is a nice touch." He gestured vaguely at the white bands of cloth still wrapped around her body, now dirty and stained from the chase.
Inori wondered briefly, 'Dyed hair?'
Then the man turned.
He crouched low. In a single, massive leap he launched himself upward, landing silently on a nearby rooftop. Another leap carried him further. Inori watched until the blur of red and blue vanished into the gray morning haze.
Just like that, he was gone.
She stood there a long while, staring at the empty space where he had been, a quiet awe settling over the fear. A short old man like that had effortlessly ended the nightmare. The thought lingered, warm and strange.
The paper door of a house to her left slid open with a soft rasp. A middle-aged man in sweatpants emerged, scratching his hair while faking a wide yawn.
"M-maaan, what was all the ruckus about?" He asked, giving Inori a cautious peek.
She glared back, irritation cutting through the exhaustion. "You don't need to fake waking up. Judging by the clouds, it should be at least seven o'clock. You all are just cowards! The lot of you!"
"W-what did you want us to do?! Fight a Sinner?" The man defended himself, voice rising slightly. "At least I tried. I'm the one who called for Nakamura-san!"
A glimmer of intrigue slipped through Inori's eyes. "Nakamura-san… so that's his name." An appreciative smile touched her lips as she wondered, distantly, how she could ever repay such a strange savior. 'We most likely will never meet again, though."
One by one, the lined-up households opened their doors. Faces peered out fearfully, asking in hushed tones if it was truly over. All of them had known a Sinner had been loose. None had stepped outside until the danger had passed.
Inori was dumbfounded. The entire neighborhood had been comfortable letting her die. She scoffed softly, the sound lost in the growing morning light, and continued her slow, painful walk toward the police station.
With a fragile new glimmer of hope, she spoke to herself, voice quiet and cheerful. "Okay… I simply need to head to the police station. I do hope they're open by now."
She pressed on, each step measured and careful. The slight throb in her foot reminded her of the jagged stone with every movement.
The day was slowly breaking. Roosters crowed in the distance. Homeowners stirred behind closed shutters. The time crept toward 7:04 AM as office workers began preparing for their day and housewives rose to meet it.
The walk took nearly twenty minutes. The road was straight, yet every block felt longer than the last. Finally, the station came into view, its door propped open with a simple doorstop. Inside, men in uniform moved with practiced efficiency, checking in for their shifts, bustling in and out.
Some arrived in police cars, others on foot. Inori gulped, the sight was intimidating, all adults, all strangers. But this was no time to be shy.
She took a deep breath and approached steadily. "Ehm… excuse me, sir."
Her voice was barely audible as she tapped the nearest officer, who was leaning against his car and sipping coffee.
"Good morning, sir." She bowed deeply, holding it for two full seconds.
The man's stare lingered, curious about the strange white bands of cloth wrapped around her small frame, dirty and stained with dried blood like some kind of mummy costume. "How… can I help you?"
"Sir, please… I am currently missing. I would like to borrow your phone and call my father."
She cut straight to the point. This nightmare could finally end. She could still celebrate her birthday since the day was still fresh.
"Did you say you're missing?" His tone grew serious.
"Yes, sir. Please, can I borrow a cell phone?" She bowed again.
The officer agreed and directed her inside. Her bandaged attire was now tattered from the chase, making her look every bit the lost child or perhaps a confused cosplayer.
Inside, she greeted the officers present, all men. s
She avoided most eyes, frightened by their scary faces. A dark-skinned female officer with short blonde hair sat with her head down, engrossed in the radio and oblivious to the scene. The only woman it seemed.
"You said you're missing?" The questioning officer began, his voice steady but probing.
Inori answered carefully, gripping her shoulders, wishing only to speak with her father. She had never been away from home this long. A slight wince as she sat drew his notice to her foot.
He brought down a first-aid box, put on gloves, and began dressing the wound with slow, careful movements. It was not severe enough for an ambulance.
"Can you tell me what your kidnappers looked like?" he asked while working.
"I… I didn't see the kidnappers… but I was abducted from my room! I'm sure of it!" Inori insisted.
He continued gently, rubbing antiseptic wipes across the cut. The cold sensation made her tremble.
"Were there any other victims with you?"
"No." Her reply was clearer now. The warehouse had been empty when she woke.
Finally, he wrapped a clean bandage around her foot and asked for her parents' names.
She was glad to answer.
"My father is the Prime Minister, Tabata Jiro. I am his daughter, Tabata Inori."
The station fell quiet.
The female officer: Maru Mei, according to her name tag, suddenly looked up. "What the hell?"
The questioning officer bowed quickly. "Kachō-san, you're awake?"
Mei walked over, staring down at Inori with an impressive build for a woman. "What did you just say?"
"Yes, my name is Tabata Inori, ma'am." Inori bowed again in her seat.
Mei squinted, reasoning aloud. "…You're playing a prank, huh? Where are your friends? And what's with the costume, kiddo?"
Inori backed away a step. "I don't have any friends except my father! And he's back home at the moment."
"Listen, you can't walk into an office because of a bet. You'd get in serious trouble, okay?"
"Why do you keep saying random things? This is no bet!" Inori's voice rose, irritation sharpening her words.
More officers gathered, drawn by the growing tension. One bellowed, "Hey, watch your mouth! You don't talk to a captain that way."
The original officer tried to calm them. "H-hey, let's all just calm down…"
Mei sighed and decided to play along for a moment. "Look, you're clearly not that bright. I mean, I've seen her on TV only a couple of times, but… doesn't the Prime Minister's daughter have black hair?" She pointed.
Inori frowned thinking to herself 'What is this fool saying? Of course my hair is black!' She groaned and pulled a strand forward to check. It looked black.... to her.
"See?!" she yelled.
The station went quiet again.
"That's blue…" Officer Mei facepalmed.
Inori's brows knitted slowly, a clear vein throbbing on her forehead. "...What… are you saying?"
"Kid, it really is blue. Like, slightly dark blue." the first officer added.
To Inori, they all sounded insane, as if under the influence of some curse or drug. Yet the officers were being honest. Her hair appeared a dark blue to them. To her own eyes, it remained perfectly normal.
Inori chuckled bitterly and decided to play along, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let me guess… my skin is green too."
"No? It's pretty normal," Mei replied, amused. "Nails black, though."
Inori looked at her fingernails. They were clean and normal to her. The discrepancy settled like a cold weight in her stomach.
Tired of everything, she sighed and simply asked for the station's telephone. "Please?" She added, trying as much as possible not to sound irritated.
The officers shrugged. They were honestly interested in where the skit was going.
There was no harm in letting her try. Besides, she did appear injured so maybe the girl was truly kidnapped and managed to escape.
"Here you go."
Inori entered the number she had memorized since age seven, her father's personal line, without even glancing at the dial pad, her expression smug with quiet confidence.
'A single phone call will make will keep them shut. Maybe I'll even tell father to punish them all.' she said to herself.
The phone rang.
Beeeep~
Once.....
The sound hung in the air, long and empty.
Beeeep~
Twice....
Inori tapped her feet to pass the time.
Beeeep~
Thrice....
She instinctively spoke. "Hello? Father-
But was interrupted by another ring.
The sequence repeated about 6 more times, drawing a confused expression on her face. 'Father always picks up at the 3rd ring.' she pouted, almost sad he wasn't even expecting her call despite being missing.
Inori stammered awkwardly. "He…he must be busy, he always is…" She tried again, this time checking each digit carefully, her fingers trembling slightly on the old buttons.
Beeeep~
Beeeep~
Beeeep~
Beeeep~
Beeeep~
Beeeep~
Beeeep~
Beeeep~
Beeeep~
Beeeep~
Beeeep~
Beeeep~
Beeeep~
Beeeep~
Beeeep~
She scratched her head as it kept ringing "What is going on? Is he still
Sleeping ?"
Old landlines didn't have a set ring limit and gave no feedback if no one answered. Unless the caller hung up, the phone would ring indefinitely.
Inori was confused.
"Hey, Prime Minister's daughter. What's up?" Mei checked in, her patience thinning.
"P-please, could you give me your smartphone? I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier." Inori pleaded, clinging to the landline as dread began to coil tighter, slow and suffocating.
Mei handed over her unlocked phone, muttering that she would deliver a thorough punishment if this was a prank.
Inori dialed the same number again.
The automated voice answered immediately, blunt and final.
[The number you have dialed does not exist]
The station fell silent. The phone screen slowly went dark.
Inori stood there as tears slowly welled and began to fall. "….What do you mean unavailable?!"
A grave sense of injustice washed over her. Why was this happening? Was she still dreaming? Why hadn't her father already saved her from this nightmare? "He should be worried not seeing me in my room...!"
Her thoughts were interrupted by the radio already playing in the background. Impeccable timing for what it announced.
[Welcome to the 7 o'clock news. Today's unfortunate headliner is tragic to all of Japan: Prime Minister's daughter — Tabata Inori — has been confirmed dead.]
Crash!
Inori dropped the smartphone. It shattered against the floor with a sharp crack that echoed through the station.
"Ah, my phone! Wait, the Minister's daughter is dead?!" Mei yelled, rushing to pick it up.
Inori was already standing beside the radio, turning the volume higher with trembling fingers. Trying to listen to what it spoke of. The broadcast continued, each word delivered in the calm, measured tone of morning news.
[According to Honorable Tabata-san, her body was in perfect condition with no form of internal or external injury whatsoever. The Prime Minister states that a thorough autopsy will be carried out. While the body is under autopsy to determine the cause of death, from tomorrow to her burial, all of Japan will experience a public break for mourning.]
All life drained from Inori's eyes. Her pupils seemed to darken. This was not funny. It had never been funny. The words landed like a physical blow, twisting her gut until she could barely keep from vomiting. The reporter moved on to unrelated matters, but Inori remained frozen, the broadcast looping in her mind like a sentence passed by the world itself.
The officers stared at her. The claim that had seemed like a prank moments ago had now lost all humor. Coincidentally timed with the actual death of the prime Minister. How was this girl going to explain herself?
The original questioning officer bent to whisper in Mei's ear. "Ma'am, I say we just let it slide. She's clearly terrified…" he begged.
"Not happening," Mei concluded, annoyed. "I was already in a bad mood today, and this brat had to pull this. Plus she dropped my phone."
They conferred quietly while Inori stood in stunned silence. "A mild punishment, then call her real parents, nothing brutal." Their captains decision was final.
"Ma'am, what if we interrogate her? She might actually have been abused, I noticed some injuries on her.," the male officer added causing Mei to sigh. His suggestion made sense, she couldn't act selfishly because she was in a bad mood. They agreed among themselves to question her further.
Mei stepped closer, hand outstretched. "Hey… don't be scared, you're not in trouble okay? let's sit down. We can call your real parents"
"Don't touch me."
The words tore out sharper than she intended. Her arm moved on its own, slapping officer Mei's arm away.
Mei stumbled back, she wasn't expecting such a rude response.
Inori's vision blurred at the edges as her brows furrowed in confusion, the station lights smearing into hazy halos. Her heart pounded in her ears, a frantic drumbeat drowning out everything else.
'W..... What is happening....?'
She could feel the walls closing in, the air growing thinner, the weight of every police officer stare pressing down like invisible hands.
Mei was sick of her attitude and told her to leave the station. She honestly couldn't care less anymore. "Just get out, if you come back I'll report you for misdemeanor." She ordered.
Inori, still oblivious to her words pushed through the narrow gap between two officers, her eyes fixed to the floor.
'What is going on....?' she asked again as her small frame slipped past the officers like smoke.
The propped-open door beckoned—a rectangle of gray morning light cutting through the sterile interior.
Her bare feet slapped against the cool floor, then the threshold, then the rough pavement outside.
She walked.
Slowly...
Eyes still glued to the ground.
The streets had filled while she had been inside the station.
People moved in random currents, bumping into Inori with annoyed groans.
"Watch were you're walking kid." One hissed at her, later turning quiet as she glanced at him with a unique expression.
One mixed with confusion, fear, and nausea.
Civilians were littered around, walking as if nothing happened.
Salarymen adjusting ties, housewives carrying shopping bags, students in uniforms laughing in small clusters. The morning had fully broken, yet the sky remained heavy with clouds, the air damp and clinging.
Inori walked without direction at first, tears slowly streaming down her cheeks, blurring the world into watercolor streaks.
Her bandaged foot protested with every step, sending sharp reminders up her leg, but she did not stop.
The white bands of cloth wrapped around her body, bloody and dirty now, drawing curious—or wary—glances from passersby.
"Hey, wait!"
Bash!!!
A woman tried warning but was a second to late.
Inori had walked into traffic ignoring a truck's blaring horn.
Brakes screeched.
Metal crunched.
Inori flew through the air and landed hard on the asphalt with a sickening thud. Rolling like a rag doll some meters away.
For one long, suspended moment… everything went still.
Then—
"AHHHH!!" A mother screamed, clutching her child and pressing his face into her chest.
Another brought out his phone, recording with a hand over his gaped mouth.
People rushed forward but hesitated, forming a loose, wary circle around her motionless body.
The driver immediately leapt out, face white with panic.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no! S-s-someone call an ambulance!" He panicked.
But Inori slowly rose to her feet. Her black nails scraped against the rough pavement as she lifted her weight up.
The crowd backed away, fear flickering in their eyes.
Inori stared blankly at the truck's mangled front, then down at her waist where the impact had struck. Then at the driver's confused face.
"She's alive?! Hurry! Call an ambulance, goddamnit!" he ordered, but everyone simply stared, worried and uneasy.
Inori looked at her body, the strange clothes she wore were still perfectly clean. Only a faint warmth lingered where the truck had hit.
No pain.
No bruises.
No ache.
A disbelieving laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep inside her. "What now… I'm invincible?"
She was losing it. A hysterical laugh erupted as Inori genuinely began to slip into madness. The crowd's concern curdled into unease. They edged away, muttering among themselves, best to avoid the crazy girl.
Inori dusted herself off and continued walking as if nothing happened. Her chuckles escalated into a manic giggle as she muttered to herself, shoulders slouched and pupils unstable, moving frantically, nearly dilating.
Her words lost beneath the city's growing noise.
'Is this a fever dream? A simulation? Reincarnation?'
The questions went on and on with no answers.
Without realizing it, Inori had wandered back to the bridge where she had tried to "Wake herself up"
She sat on the floor, arms crossed. This time speaking aloud.
"Dead? Me? Has everyone gone mad? Father as well... what.... what is going on? This makes no sense."
The tears refused to stop.
A single drop of rain grazed her face. Then another. Then another. Suddenly, a downpour began, heavy and relentless.
Inori ran for shelter, sitting on the muddy ground beneath the bridge. "What is the meaning of all this?!"
Growing frustration boiled over. She kicked a concrete pillar with force. It cracked slightly. The impact sent a sharp jolt up her leg.
"See?! That hurt! I'm not dreaming!" She tried to kick it again when a sharper pain bloomed in her chest.
Her heart rate spiked wildly, as though a panic attack were seizing her.
Inori had never felt such a strong barrage of emotions all at once.
Her eyes widened slowly as a desperate, hideous smile spread across her face. "Wait a minute!"
She snapped her fingers. "Yes… that explains it! I haven't killed myself yet! I've only been feeling pain all this time! Perhaps I need to actually die here."
Clinging to the last thread of logic, she reverted to calling everything a dream. She dropped to the wet ground and began searching frantically for something sharp.
"This should do."
Inori picked up a piece of dirty, broken glass. She raised it to her throat, attempting suicide for the second time that morning.
'I-I'll slash my larynx, the glottis to be specific....!' she reasoned moving the shard.
"Just do it! Quickly! I might wake up late today, but we could still celebrate!"
She still remembered her birthday, the special day that led to all of this. Inori mustered what little strength she could. "Hurry up and do it!!"
Five long seconds passed.
Clank!
Inori dropped the shard. It fell to the muddy floor with a soft splash. She couldn't do it. She did not want to feel any more pain. Not anymore.
With a dejected face, she curled up behind the wall and began weeping uncontrollably, calling out to her father to save her from this nightmare. The rain muffled her wails.
"F-father please.... I'm.... I'm not dead...." She said as she closed her eyes.
After twenty long minutes, Inori passed out from exhaustion, the cold ground claiming her as the downpour continued overhead.