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It's only been a month, and Jisyou already is so much more invested in the subject, all thanks to you!" A remarkable lady tucked strands of hair behind her ears, exposing the emerald hoop earrings.
"Thank you for your kind words, Fukumori-sama," Kiyotaka bowed his head, smiling politely, clutching a shabby leather briefcase to his chest.
Fukumori, the woman who'd arranged him as a tutor for her son, held out the notes she had counted. Ishimaru accepted the proffered money and gave another bow, thanking her.
A little boy poked his head out from behind the wall, watching them with big and curious eyes. Taka waved to him and let a soft smile slide across his face. He said goodbye to them both, but before Ishimaru could leave, a hand was put on his shoulder.
"It's getting late, and the rain is gaining strength. Should I call a taxi for you, Ishimaru-san?"
Kiyotaka's eyes grew wide with shock. "No-no, there's no need! B-but thank you very much for your concern." With said words he left, saying his goodbyes once again.
The walk wasn't pleasant considering the fact that Taka's clothes weren't suited for the cold evening's weather. He let out a deep sigh, covering his head with a briefcase and speeding up. The faster he would walk, the faster he'd get home.
Ever since he had failed to get into the famous Hope's Peak Academy, Kiyotaka took any work he could find. In order to support both him and his father, who wasn't paid that much despite being a police officer for over a decade now. They barely had enough money to pay the bills.
But the worst thing was the debts they'd had to get pay off as soon as possible. Another issue was the ruined reputation of the whole family, that left a huge impact on their everyday lives. All of that because of his corruptive grandfather.
Even though the Fukumori family's house was out of town, it was just a twenty minutes’ walk for Kiyotaka to get back home. He was walking down the highway when he passed a gas station, its sign brightly illuminating part of a broad street. Taka turned his head aside, having a quick look a group of broad shouldered men. They were leaning on a high priced BMW, laughing immoderately.
Suddenly Ishimaru froze, his lips shook as he was riveting that car with his gaze. He could not move. He was shackled by fear. Taka looked up and met one man’s eyes for a second. His face contorted into a broad, creepy, ugly grin. The ex-school prefect felt a sudden cold shiver down his spine. Walking away, he quickened his pace.
Blood. There was dried blood on the car bumper.
Being a police officer’s son he's seen worse things than that. Even saw a corpse once, of a suicidal woman who threw herself under a train. But the prospect of being all alone on the lonely highway where a car passes once an hour or even less often, didn’t bring him much joy.
Kiyotaka had long passed the gas station when he heard a car approaching. He stopped by the roadside, covering his face, the headlights in his eyes. Ishimaru gasped when he realized that it was the same car from the gas station. And it stopped. By his side.
"So it really is you. I thought you looked familiar," the creepy grin man chuckled as he got out of the car, approaching Taka slowly. "Ishimaru."
He stumbled backwards, bumping into another man’s back. The realization made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, certainly frightened the life out of a young man. The debt collectors.
"If I remember correctly, your father owes us about 3 million yen," he took out a folded paper out of his pocket. "Oh, would you look at that, I do remember it correctly," he pointed at the numbers, holding a paycheck in front of Kiyotaka’s face.
Ishimaru gulped, trembling with fear and cold. "I’ll pay you back. We still have time."
The collector let out a dry chuckle, reaching into his other pocket. "Like father, like son. He told us the same thing last time."
Suddenly he grabbed Kiyotaka by the throat, squeezing his arm around it tightly. Taka weakly held onto the man’s grip with his hands, his eyes bulging with pain.
"I got an idea. Taking you with us sounds like something that would make your old bastard hurry the fuck up with the payment. What torture would you like best, boiling or combing?" Ishimaru’s eyes grew wide as he began sobbing in terror and gasping for air.
"P-please, I-I can’t…"
The men he was surrounded by put him in a hammer lock as the leader loosened his grip.
"I wouldn’t want to hurt such a young, innocent soul like you. You have our money, right?" He ran a finger down Ishimaru’s cheek, wiping away either tears or raindrops. The switch in his voice and attitude terrified Taka. It almost seemed like the guy was mentally impaired.
"S-sir, I said I don’t have such amount of money. I’ll find a way to earn it, p-please, just leave my dad alone," Kiyotaka looked at him with wide, glittering with tears eyes. "I’m begging you, please d-don’t hurt him."
"You’ll fucking get that money, kid, I don’t care how, but your family will pay the price, up to a very last coin," the collector raised a knife to Taka’s neck, going in closer, his breath reeking of alcohol. "Understand?!"
"Y-yes, sir," Ishimaru said as he winced with fear. He was thrown to the ground, one of the men searched his pockets, the other began to run through his briefcase. He tried to get up but got punched in the gut by one of the collectors and fell onto the ground with a loud groan.
"Stay low, pathetic whimpering bitch," the man struck him again and let out a laugh. Kiyotaka cried out in pain, covering his head with his hands. The more punches he got the heavier the rain was getting. Lying on the road, soaked through, blood running down his face. He couldn’t stop crying even when the car was long gone.