Chapter Text
It’s with hurried footsteps that you rush to Overhaul’s office, careful to not jostle the tray in your hands too much. The light clanking of glassware follows you through the still somewhat disorienting halls. You nearly run into several people but you pay them no mind other than a quick apology as you keep your eyes on the objective. You had been asked to get tea in a ‘timely’ manner and that meant ‘hurry up and get me some goddamn tea.’ A part of you, one that has been steadily growing since you got here, tells you that you will never get the tea there on time. Just like how you will never properly clean his shoes or set the table or make his bed. Yet you still hold onto hope that you will learn and he won’t be upset. Someday, you won’t make mistakes and he won’t have to discipline you. A pipe dream says the nihilist. A very soon future says the optimist.
You finally, finally take the last turn and see his office door. It’s a beacon of light in the dark. You slow down as you approach if only to catch your breath. Breathing too loud is a crime here. You politely knock on the door and wait for his approval to enter. You hear that fear-inducing voice give you permission to enter. Balancing the tray in one hand you open the door and carefully close it. Can’t go around slamming doors as he says.
Your presence isn’t acknowledged further than a quick sideways glance as he works away on his computer. You set the tray down on a nearby side table and make his tea exactly like you’ve been told to. You place the cup in the correct location and back up to your assigned spot behind him and out of sight. It’s with shaky eyes and a heart that is ready to beat out of your chest that you watch him take a sip from his tea and calmly place it back down. An entire minute does by without a word of criticism and only then do you breathe a little easier. You relax into your position behind him, happy to have for once not displeased him, and await his next command.
Oh, what a predicament you’ve found yourself in. A little over two months ago you were happily helping your Ma and Papa run their dairy farm, completely unaware of the hardship that would soon befall you. Only to be made aware of the danger when it was too late. Your sweet naive parents came from a long line of dairy farmers. Papa would always joke that’s how the universe knew how to give them their quirks, but this isn’t the story of how nearly everyone in your family had a quirk that gave them features and traits of a cow, you included. This was the story of how your parents took money from the yakuza when times were hard to help keep the family farm afloat. Had you known of their financial troubles you would have gone and got a job off the farm to help, but they never wanted to worry you. You wish they had. Their loan came with a criminally high interest, one that they never even had a chance of repaying. So, when the missed payments became too much to be ignored guess who came knocking?
You’ll never forget the sounds of Ma and your little siblings crying as Papa was beaten black and blue. You got in the middle of it if only to get them to stop hitting him and direct it on you instead. Anything you said. You would do anything to help pay their debt. That anything was working for them. For your family? Anything. You barely even got to say goodbye before being carted off and into the city. They put a bag over your head and told you to stay quiet for the ride. What else were you to do but listen? When the car finally came to a halt they pulled you out and into some building. After being pushed none too gently into a chair the bag was removed. You were not alone. Several other women sat in a row with you. A man with a pot belly and catfish facial hair looked over each of you. Full-on groping and assaulting these poor young women. Then, he got to you. A deep frown came over his face as he looked over you. Disgust became evident on his face as he took hold of your chin, turning your face from side to side.
“Ugh, this one is too fat. How do you expect me to bring in any money with this? I’d be catering to a very niche client base and I already have some like her to fill it. What are you guys? Idiots?”
“Hey man, she ain’t that bad. Got a pretty face, young, and look at those tits. I’m sure plenty of pervs would want to have a go at her.”
“It’s a novelty that’ll were off in less than a year. I have a girl that looks like a pig to cover that client base. You don’t flood your own market. If you still got her around in a few years when the pig wears out then maybe I’ll reconsider.”
They talked about you like some piece of meat. A product. Like you weren’t even there. His words stung. Yes, you were a little bigger than most but it didn’t call for such rudeness. Then there was everything else they were saying. You may not be a genius but you didn’t have to be to catch on to what they were doing here with you and these other women. You weren’t an easy crier but with everything else happening, it got you misty-eyed. The other women were escorted out while you were left to sit in silence. You overheard one of the men saying they were trying to find a place to put you. Eventually, the men in the room with you left, turning the lights off as they went. Your hands were bound behind you as you waited for what seemed like hours in the darkness, you let yourself silently weep at the situation you had found yourself in. Maybe, if you knew what was coming you would have saved your tears, for you had no idea what true horrors lay in front of you.
The door to the room was opened and the light turned on. The men who brought you here walked in as well as two men in plague masks. A new fear rose in you at the site of them. Again, people talked about you like you were some product.
“Well, what do you think? She’s not too different looking from the old one. Well enough mannered that we didn’t have to gag her and she came willingly. She’s the daughter of some dipshit farmer who couldn’t pay up. Tried giving her to the whore house owner but he didn’t want her. We thought since you're looking for a new assistant she’d be perfect. It’s that or maybe one of the mills.”
The man talking was bald with a simple dust mask on. He seemed to be addressing the man in the duster jacket. Kai Chisaki or Overhall as you would soon learn. Overhaul had moved to be standing over you. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, not entirely sure what you were trying to ask him to do. Have mercy on you maybe. No mercy or hope could be found in those eyes. Just a cold calculated stare. He looked more bored to be here than anything. He walked away from you and as he walked out of the room he spoke.
“She’ll do. Get her cleaned up and in my office in an hour.”
And that’s how it started. Since then, you’ve had to learn very quickly the rules and regulations as the head of the yakuza’s personal ‘assistant.’ Slave was a much more accurate term. That first week was the hardest. You learned several things. The core rules that you must abide by no matter what. Don’t talk back, always do as told, stay out of site when not needed, and always work in a timely fashion. Backtalk also included questions. No asking why you were doing something just do it. That was the first thing you got down pat. Mainly because you didn’t like being backhanded or worse, the gag. Overhaul’s discipline was humiliating. An O-ring gag with a removable stopper that you were made to wear all day even when asked to do things like get tea. It only took wearing that thing once to get you to comply with that rule. Staying out of sight was the easy one to follow. Always be behind him.
It was the other two rules that always tripped you up. Doing what was asked without question should have been easy if it were not for how demeaning those orders could be. The first month in this place you felt scared and helpless but you were essentially a personal maid. Doing household chores wasn’t hard and it was something you were used to. You helped Ma out a lot. It was your job as the oldest to help her after all. It was when he told you to be his footstool in front of others that you first broke that rule of always do what you are told. Gobsmacked you were by the request. It was the first time you said no and what you would consider your first time back talking to him. (This incident was after the gag so he clearly thought otherwise.) He was less than thrilled with that answer. That was the day you found out about the closet. It was more of a small indent in the wall with a door attached to it. It was small and cramped. You could hardly turn let alone sit down. You still don’t know how long you spent in there. At least a day or two. It’s a room you have seen only a handful of times. You hate it. There is no sound or light and it’s so tight. You don’t mean to but when in there you freak out so bad you pass out. You can’t breathe right in there. Can’t think. The silence and darkness makes your mind play tricks on you. The last time he put you in there you wet yourself before entry which pissed him off even more. You know you were locked away for four days that time thanks to one of the men who pulled you out saying as much. He said it in conjunction with how surprised they were to still see you alive.
That was two weeks ago and you’ve been on your best behavior. You have had very few missteps since. Even small mistakes have repercussions. The weight in your nose feels heavy at the thought. It’s pain a dull ache. He had the ring put in a few days ago because you had spilled wine when pouring him some. It wasn’t the closet though, for that you were happy about. Nothing was worse than the closet.
You come out of your head just in time to see him place his now empty cup of tea down. You are quick to refill it. As you go back to your spot behind him he addresses you.
“Girl, come here.”
He doesn’t even look up, only points to the spot next to him. You do as told. Something that always rubs you the wrong way is how he never calls you by name. You’re sure he doesn’t even know it. Nobody ever asked you. You are Girl here, not the beautiful name Ma gave you. In a lot of ways, that is a blessing. These people do not deserve to call you by name.
As you come to a stop beside him he continues to type away at an email before hitting send. Only then does he turn to look at you with that same bored manner one holds only for the most mundane of tasks.
“On your knees.”
He probably wants a foot rub is what you think. It’s not uncommon but it is strange he’s asking for one at this time of day. It’s not even noon yet. You kneel and are about to grab his shoes to take off when he startles you by taking hold of your chin. You freeze. His eyes take in every inch of your face as he turns your head from side to side, even lifting your chin up to get a different angle. He spends a long time on this, enough to make you worried. New things are never good things here. He lets go of your chin to lightly trace the outline of your face before those dangerous hands move to touch your ear. It twitches and flicks in response more out of reflex if anything. The light huff of laughter makes you so incredibly uncomfortable. He pulls and prods at it. Then he gives the back of it a scratch. It’s one of the most awkward sensations you’ve ever felt. It tickles. It feels oddly nice. Something between a whine and a sigh comes out of you as you jerk away. Dread has the color draining from your face at the realization of what you just did. A glance at his face tells you how upset he is at you for ruining his fun in whatever this weirdness is.
“I’m sorry. Sir, I’m sorry. I didn’t meEEE-”
He grabs hold of your nose ring and pulls you back in. Closer than you were.
“Quiet. Stay still. I won’t tell you again.”
A warning. He must be in a good mood to be handing you this second chance. He lets go of your tender piercing and goes back to handling your ears. He’s using both hands now to mess with them. Slowly, you see a look of amusement settle in his visible features. He very much enjoys making them flick. He goes to scratch one again and this time you force yourself not to react but it’s impossible to stop the whine that comes out when he actually gets an itch that came from his prodding. He doesn’t seem to mind, thankfully. Nor does he mind when you even lean into it. You have no clue as to what is going on but it’s not unpleasant. Incredibly strange and out of place? Yes. Oddly satisfying? Also yes. Your head starts to feel fuzzy.
You hardly even register the knock at the door or him giving the person permission to enter. He doesn’t stop. Not even when Chronos speaks to him about an important something or another. He keeps his hands moving. Scratching, fondling, and even petting your ears and head. With a hum, he stops his actions but keeps a hand on your now flushed cheek, gently rubbing it with his thumb.
“Tell them I’ll be with them shortly and put them in the good waiting room, not the one we use for Shigaraki.”
“Understood sir.”
Chronos leaves and then it’s just the two of you in the room again. He removes his hands from you but not before running a thumb over your bottom lip.
“Go eat lunch and be back here in a half hour. If I’m not back by then wait outside for me.”
“Yes sir.”
You stand and bow as you make your leave.
“Wait, one more thing.”
You halt your movement as he walks over to you. His fingers deftly pop the first two buttons of your shirt open.
“When you get ready in the morning that’s how I expect you to be. Now go.”
You are out that door faster than ever. The blush on your face increases from the action.
It’s over your lunch that you run through what had transpired in Overhaul’s office. He has never shown that much interest in you and to have touched you in such a way seems foreign. Then the buttons happened. You were scared. You had thought you had avoided that fate when you first arrived but it was still a looming threat. You became aware of the lack of women here early on. You seemed to be the only one at least given what you’ve seen of the place. The men noticed too. You got several leering glances and unwanted comments throughout your time here. But none whenever in the presence of Overhaul. Only a few of the eight dared to make such comments around him and even then they were quite tame to what they would say without him around.
Overhaul was supposed to be your safe zone. He may be the most terrifying thing in this place but he had never expressed that sort of interest in you. You were under the impression he wasn’t into that sort of thing given how much he hated germs. ‘Filth’ to him constituted anything that wasn’t in the sanitary confines of his office or bedroom. You were on a strict bathing schedule to keep up with this. Your poor skin was so dry from the hot showers and baths. You are still working up the courage to ask for lotion. It was only after your piercing that you no longer were permitted to wear a dust mask of your own.
You hugged yourself. Hoping that you were just overthinking things. He’s made many strange requests and has had you do many odd chores. Even a man not interested in doing the act with others could still want to see the figure of a lady from time to time. The outfit he had you wear was already something a bit out of your comfort zone. Papa would have a stroke if he saw the length of your pencil skirt. You looked like a waitress at some fancy restaurant. A long-sleeved white button-up with a dark green vest that matched Overhaul's duster. A pair of tights and low-heeled shoes completed your everyday look. The closet in your room held no variation. Even the clothes you slept in were the same. The only thing of color you had came from the clothes you arrived in. The bright colors in them were the only thing that kept you sane in that blank room. The only thing to remind you of home.
Home.
You long for the day you can return. The next several years of your life were laid out before you on your first official introduction to Overhaul. You would work for him and in return, your parent's debt would be reduced. Until the loan was paid in full you were considered the property of the Shie Hassaikai. Failure to comply meant they would go after more collateral. As Overhaul said, you had several other siblings, all of which could take your place. You feared for their safety much more than your own. You had to do this for them. For Ma and Papa. Anything you said. You would do anything for them.
Anything.