Peter Pan - 15
Until I met Mikoto, I had planned to smack her upside the head the moment I saw her. I understood what she wanted, but there was no need to push me that hard. She could have just been honest from the start and said she wanted to be a voice actress. Instead, she exhausted me and everyone else involved.
But when I burst into the small room inside the abandoned factory and saw her condition, I had no choice but to unclench my fist. Mikoto's clothes were shredded to rags, barely clinging to her body. Peeking through the tatters wasn't her white skin, but bruises and blood.
"Long time no see."
Without thinking, I let the complaints bubbling up from my heart spill out. She hadn't been able to wash properly; a foul smell wafted from her. I approached her where she sat tied to the chair and easily sliced the ropes with my dagger.
"Ah... ah..."
I couldn't make out what she was saying, but she looked far worse than she appeared on the surface.
"Your throat doesn't sound right. Don't talk."
Ignoring me, Mikoto desperately mustered her last reserves of strength to say something. But it was gibberish.
"Got it. I'll free you. Let's go."
Assuming she was begging for her life, I tried to hoist her onto my back, but she resisted, still trying to communicate.
"No, if you stay like this, you're really gonna die... I haven't understood a word you've said so far?"
Mikoto's gestures grew more frantic.
"Don't strain your throat. If you have something to say, use this. Utter one more word, and I'll really hit you. I've wanted to smack you since I got here."
I handed her my phone. It wasn't heavy, but she didn't even have the strength to hold it. I barely caught it as it slipped, supporting it for her until she could tap the screen.
There were some typos, but it was easier to understand than her speech.
"The ones who set this 'trap' you mentioned—they're the guys nearby with guns?"
Mikoto nodded. I smirked.
A while back, Yukiko had acted overly defensive to protect me. When I asked later, her answer was surprisingly simple: In Japan, hate crimes and kidnappings targeting men were common, so she had no choice but to be wary of strangers. Surprisingly, that sense of danger was lacking in Korea—not because of good public safety, but because men rarely died that way.
The physical enhancement procedure was practically science fiction drug from modern stories.
"You can't kill a man with just a couple dozen guys armed with rifles."
She looked at me in shock. She'd probably assumed I'd sneaked in peacefully by paying ransom or something. In reality, it was more like an infiltration action game.
"Those guys... I took them out and tied them up. Oh, there was one wandering around looking for drugs nearby—I just smashed his leg a bit. I didn't buy enough cable ties..."
With the situation explained, I took her hand to leave. Silently, she tapped away on my phone for a while before handing it back.
She'd hammered out a long, choking apology.
"Whew, this factory reeks—I wanna get out ASAP... Hey, Mikoto. You don't seem to get it, so I'm gonna be blunt. Listen up."
I bent one knee to meet her eyes. One of hers was swollen shut from bruising.
"You think someone like you could actually harm me?"
"...?!"
"You didn't cause me any financial loss—just borrowed my signature once, which ended up catching a rapist, right?"
As she'd said when she left, she'd deposited the exact amount I'd paid for her back into my account.
"Come to think of it, all that's left is the verbal abuse and running off... but that's just mildly upsetting."
"..."
"Like you said, I didn't really like you that much. At best, you were like a little sister to game with."
The clear reason I could be so lukewarm about Mikoto's betrayal? She had no way to actually harm me, no matter what she did. If she'd hurt me emotionally, I'd have been angry. If she'd run off with all my money, I'd have tracked her down, grabbed her by the collar, and gotten it back. If she'd hurt Yukiko or targeted her life, I might have hunted her down and killed her.
"Don't think your actions caused me massive damage or trauma."
This tiny blonde girl was too small to threaten me.
"Still, I'm a bit pissed, so I wasn't gonna say this much, but..."
I grabbed her shoulders. Her pulse felt infinitely weak.
"It's okay."
Mikoto seemed to waver for a moment, then tapped my phone again with more pointless words.
I was dying to wash up and crash, but her endless nonsense was making my temper rise.
"Hey, this isn't that 'choice theory' Nemu was talking about, right? The one where you give up one thing to get another."
Mikoto nodded silently. My patience hit its limit.
"Quit the bullshit! Your mistake wasn't giving up your voice acting dream—it was not telling me straight and stabbing me in the back instead!"
"..."
"If you'd just told me from the start you wanted to be a voice actress, I could've made it happen easy!"
A flicker of doubt crossed her face, mixed with resignation that it couldn't be true.
"You should've said you wanted it all. Don't overthink with 'that'll never work' or 'he'll definitely refuse'—just ask me outright."
Hell, if she'd asked me to start an animation company, I could've done it. But because she hid her intentions, we both suffered.
Still, that wrapped up what I needed to say to her. My mood was sour, but I'd gotten her apology. I'd planned to smack her a few times, but in her state, even that might leave permanent damage.
"Fine. Let's go. Whether you go back to voice acting or slavery, we gotta get out of this stifling dump first."
Mikoto's breathing grew ragged. Her chest heaved with each inhale and exhale. Tears soon followed. The crusted blood around her nose and mouth melted into them, turning red by the time they reached her chin.
"Sor... ry..."
I could only look at her pitifully as she strained her broken body to apologize. But a promise was a promise.
With a sharp thwack, her head snapped down.
"I told you not to talk!"
"...!"
True to my word, I gave her a smack on the head. She rubbed it wordlessly, soothing the pain. Her eyes seemed indignant yet too guilty to get mad, stirring a mix of sadism and pity in me.
"Let's go."
I hoisted her onto my back. The heavy, soft, squishy sensation pressing against me felt oddly good. She buried her face in my back. Her thighs, disproportionate to her petite frame, were plump and cute—something I hadn't noticed at home.
"Eut..."
She winced as scrapes rubbed against her wounds. I set her back on the chair, took off my cardigan, and draped it over her. She sniffed it deeply, inhaling my scent.
Her legs were covered in wounds too—maybe I should give her my pants. But I didn't want her running around in just panties, and as long as she clung to my back, her legs wouldn't scrape.
"Alright, for real this time. If we drag this out, someone might come untie the cable ties or return from scouting."
She wrote on my neck with her finger. Her small, frail digit trembled violently.
"No, you still don't get it? I took them out one by one precisely to avoid casualties."
The butt I supported felt as soft as the rest of her. Different from Yukiko's large, firm ones, but plenty lewd in my mind.
"Regular rifle rounds won't even scratch me. Unless a massive bomb goes off right next to me."
I carried her out and confidently opened the door. Then a sinister shhhiiiik sound made me duck back inside.
A massive explosion rocked the building. I felt smoke, debris, and fumes pouring in. I couldn't hide my panic.
I'd just boasted about being invincible seconds ago—who could've imagined an antitank round?