Chapter Text
Rain hammered against the car windows with enough force to drown the city beyond them into smeared streaks of silver, red, and neon blue.
Traffic lights bled like watercolors across the wet glass.
Inside the car, warmth lingered faintly from the heater, carrying the soft scent of milk powder, baby lotion, and rain-damp clothes.
In the backseat, wrapped snugly in pale blankets embroidered with tiny green dinosaurs, baby Hayato slept soundlessly against his mother’s chest.
Six months old.
Warm. Heavy with milk and sleep. Alive in the careless, fragile way only infants could be.
One tiny hand rested curled against his mother’s collarbone, fingers twitching occasionally in dreams.
His cheeks were still round with baby fat.
His eyelashes impossibly long. Every now and then, his mouth moved faintly as if suckling even in sleep.
His mother brushed a kiss against the crown of his head and exhaled quietly, exhausted affection softening her features.
“Finally asleep,” Takashi murmured from the front seat. Rain rattled hard against the roof.
His wife shot him a warning glance immediately.
“Don’t say it too loudly,” she whispered. “You’ll wake him.”
Takashi huffed a quiet laugh. The tension eased briefly. Outside, the city glowed dim and distant beneath the storm.
But fear had settled over it these past months like rot beneath floorboards.
Every television station. Every newspaper. Every late-night radio broadcast.
Missing babies.
Children vanishing from strollers left unattended for minutes. Toddlers disappearing from daycare centers. Infants taken from apartment homes while parents slept in the next room.
No witnesses.
No ransom calls.
No bodies.
Just absence.
Takashi still remembered the interview from two nights ago. A mother sobbing so hard she could barely breathe while clutching a tiny yellow shoe against her chest. The police called them isolated kidnappings. Parents called them nightmares.
His wife unconsciously tightened her hold around Hayato.
The baby stirred faintly, nose scrunching in sleepy protest before settling again. At the next red light, Takashi checked the rearview mirror automatically.
Then paused.
A black van sat two cars behind them.
Still.
Its headlights glowed pale through sheets of rain.
Watching.
A cold feeling slid down Takashi’s spine.
His fingers tightened subtly around the steering wheel.
The light turned green.
Their car moved forward.
The van followed.
Mirae noticed the shift in his expression almost instantly.
“...Takashi?”
“Lock the doors.”
The softness vanished from his voice completely.
A sharp click echoed through the car as she obeyed immediately.
Hayato stirred against her chest.
Outside, thunder rolled low and violent across the sky. Rain lashed harder.
The windshield wipers struggled desperately to keep up.
Takashi turned left.
The van turned left.
A pulse began hammering behind his ribs.
The streets were nearly empty at this hour. Most storefronts had already shuttered against the storm, metal signs rattling violently in the wind.
“Takashi,” Mirae whispered more urgently now.
“I know.”
The van accelerated suddenly.
Too fast.
Its headlights exploded brighter across the mirrors.
Then,
CRASH.
Metal screamed.
The impact slammed into the side of their car hard enough to throw everyone sideways violently.
Glass burst inward like glittering rain.
Mirae cried out, instinctively curling around Hayato as shards scattered across the backseat.
The baby woke instantly.
And screamed.
The sound pierced through the storm.
High.
Terrified.
Confused.
Takashi fought the steering wheel with both hands now as the tires skidded across soaked asphalt.
Another impact hit them.
Harder.
The van was trying to force them off the road.
“Get down!” he shouted.
His wife bent low over the baby just as the side window shattered completely inward.
Cold rain exploded into the car.
Then,
A gloved hand lunged through broken glass.
Searching.
Grabbing.
Not for wallets.
Not for jewelry.
For the baby.
Something primal tore through Hayato’s mother.
“No!”
She bit down viciously on the man’s wrist hard enough to taste blood through leather gloves.
The kidnapper cursed violently and yanked back.
Takashi slammed the brakes.
Tires shrieked.
A horn blared somewhere nearby.
The cars fishtailed dangerously.
Chaos.
Rainwater streamed through shattered windows. Glass crunched beneath shoes. The baby screamed hysterically.
Then the rear door was yanked open.
Hands.
Too many hands.
Dark sleeves.
Gloves.
Rainwater dripping from masked faces.
Someone grabbed his wife’s shoulder hard enough to bruise.
Another reached directly for Hayato.
“LET GO!”
She clung to her son with desperate strength, curling around him so tightly it almost looked painful.
The kidnappers pulled harder.
The blanket slipped.
Hayato cried louder.
Takashi lunged from the driver’s seat and slammed one attacker against the car hard enough to dent metal.
Thunder cracked overhead.
Then,
A flash.
Not lightning.
Steel.
The knife came down wildly in the struggle.
His wife twisted instinctively.
The blade missed her throat by inches.
And slashed directly across Hayato’s face instead.
For one impossible second,
silence.
Then the baby screamed.
High.
Piercing.
Wrong.
Blood bloomed instantly across pale dinosaur blankets. Bright red against soft green embroidery.
His mother stared.
Uncomprehending.
Then horror hit all at once.
“No, no no no no!”
Her voice broke apart into sobs.
Blood poured between trembling fingers pressed desperately against one tiny eye.
Hayato wailed in agony.
Tiny body shaking violently.
The kidnappers froze.
Even they looked startled.
Takashi hit one of them hard enough to send him sprawling across rain-slick pavement.
Sirens wailed somewhere in the distance.
Closer.
The attackers cursed.
“Move!”
Van doors slammed shut.
Tires shrieked against wet asphalt as the black vehicle sped away into the storm.
And for the briefest second, illuminated by flickering streetlights through the rear doors left partially ajar, Takashi saw inside the van.
Rows of child restraints bolted into the metal floor.
Tiny seat harnesses. Baby blankets. A dropped pacifier rolling weakly across the van’s interior with the movement.
Not one seat occupied.
Waiting.
Ready.
The realization hit like ice water down his spine.
This had never been random.
His wife was still sobbing openly in the backseat.
“Hayato! Hayato, look at mama, sweetheart, please!”
The baby’s cries had become weaker now.
Too weak.
Takashi stumbled back toward the car, hands shaking so badly he nearly dropped his keys.
“Hospital,” he gasped.
Rainwater mixed with blood beneath the city lights.
And somewhere beyond the storm, hidden deep within the sleeping city. The black van disappeared into the night,
still hunting.
--------
Seven years later, the Suo estate stood untouched by tragedy at first glance. Nestled within the quieter, wealthier district of Makochi, the traditional residence stretched wide beneath the afternoon sun. Dark polished wood, curved tiled roofs, stone pathways still damp from morning rain. Wind chimes swayed softly beneath the engawa, their delicate sounds blending with cicadas humming lazily in the summer heat.
To outsiders, it looked peaceful.
Safe.
The kind of home terrible things did not happen to.
Laughter echoed through the spacious yard.
“Give it back!”
“You’re too slow!”
“That’s cheating!”
Hayato darted barefoot across the grass with their family cat tucked clumsily beneath one arm, his small laughter ringing bright and breathless through the air while his older brothers chased after him.
At seven years old, Hayato had grown into a startlingly beautiful child.
Too pretty, strangers often said.
Large amber eyes. Long lashes. Soft auburn hair constantly escaping neat brushes and ties.
One eye warm and alive.
The other pale beneath sunlight.
Blind.
A faint scar cut across the side of his face, disappearing partially beneath his bangs. Children at school stared sometimes. Adults looked at him with pity. Hayato himself hardly seemed to notice anymore.
“Hayato!” Hakuto shouted dramatically. “Stop kidnapping Maru!”
The orange tabby cat in Hayato’s arms let out a deeply offended meow.
“You kidnapped him first!” Hayato yelled back immediately.
“I was HOLDING him!”
“You held him against his will!”
“That’s not how cats work!”
Haruto snorted loudly from where he leaned against one of the stone lanterns. “You sound insane.”
Hakuto gasped. “Traitor.”
The boys dissolved into laughter again.
Maru finally escaped Hayato’s hold with the suffering dignity only old cats possessed and trotted away across the engawa with his tail puffed irritably.
Hayato immediately chased after him.
“Maru, wait!”
Inside the house, Mirae watched her sons through opened shoji doors while arranging tea untouched beside her. Sunlight spilled across polished wooden floors. The television murmured quietly nearby.
For a moment, she allowed herself to relax.
Her boys were healthy.
Alive.
Safe.
Takashi sat beside her reading through documents from work, though his attention drifted more often toward the yard than the papers in his hands.
Hayato tripped over his own feet trying to catch the cat again.
Hakuto laughed so hard he nearly fell backward into the koi pond.
Takashi smiled faintly.
Then,
The television volume sharpened abruptly.
“Breaking news regarding the illegal child experimentation case-”
Everything inside the room froze.
Mirae’s hand slipped slightly against her teacup.
The ceramic rattled softly.
Onscreen, reporters crowded outside a heavily guarded research facility while cameras flashed violently against police barricades. Words flooded the screen beneath the reporter’s strained voice.
ILLEGAL HUMAN EXPERIMENTATION MISSING CHILDREN CASE UPDATE SURVIVING SUBJECTS DISCOVERED
Mirae felt cold instantly.
Like ice water had been poured directly down her spine.
Beside her, Takashi slowly lowered the papers in his hands.
The reporter continued speaking.
“Authorities confirmed earlier today that multiple children previously reported missing over the last several years were discovered inside an unregistered private research facility operating under falsified documentation-”
A photograph flashed briefly onscreen.
Tiny hospital beds.
Restraints.
White walls.
Mirae’s stomach twisted violently.
“Several children survived and have since been returned to their families under medical supervision. Others remain hospitalized in critical condition. Officials have also confirmed multiple fatalities among test subjects due to extensive experimentation.”
Her breathing became shallow.
Takashi’s fingers found hers instinctively.
Cold.
Slightly trembling.
Grounding her.
Grounding himself.
Outside, their sons were still laughing. Still running freely beneath open skies. The contrast felt unbearable.
“The identities of the researchers involved are currently withheld due to ongoing investigation procedures and privacy regulations-”
Takashi’s jaw tightened sharply.
The screen shifted again.
A blurred image of a child escorted beneath blankets into an ambulance.
Small.
Fragile.
Terrified.
Mirae suddenly couldn’t breathe properly.
Because all she could see, was blood soaking dinosaur-patterned blankets beneath flashing streetlights. Tiny fingers trembling weakly against her chest.
High, piercing cries turning faint.
No.
No, no-
Her gaze snapped toward the yard instantly.
Toward her children.
Alive.
Still there.
Still hers.
“Hayato! Hakuto! Haruto!”
All three boys paused immediately. Their heads turned toward her at once. For one terrible second, fear gripped Mirae irrationally.
As if they might disappear if she blinked. Then Hayato grinned brightly.
“Mama?”
Mirae opened her arms. Nothing more.
Just that silent gesture mothers used before words.
Come here.
The boys exchanged confused looks.
Hakuto snickered first. “Last one there is ugly!”
“HEY!”
Haruto shoved him violently. Hayato shrieked with laughter and bolted toward the engawa first. All three boys nearly crashed into the house at once in their desperate race toward her.
The floorboards shook beneath pounding footsteps.
Mirae barely had time to brace herself before they collided into her arms all together, all warmth and sunlight and grass-stained clothes.
“Mom, Hakuto pushed me!”
“You elbowed me first!”
“Move, your knee is literally in my stomach!”
Mirae held them tighter.
Too tight.
Her face buried instinctively against Hayato’s hair first.
Then Haruto’s shoulder.
Then Hakuto’s cheek.
Breathing them in desperately.
Sunlight.
Soap.
Summer air.
Alive.
Takashi reached over quietly and ruffled all three boys’ auburn heads at once.
Haruto whined immediately. “Dad, stop!”
Hakuto laughed.
Hayato leaned instinctively into the touch.
Takashi swallowed hard against the tightness in his throat. Because even after seven years, the memory still hadn’t loosened its grip.
The hospital corridors.
Mirae sobbing uncontrollably in bloodstained clothes.
Doctors rushing Hayato away beneath blinding emergency lights.
The surgeon explaining the damage in careful, practiced words.
Permanent blindness.
Takashi still remembered how small Hayato looked lying unconscious beneath white hospital sheets.
So small.
Far too small for stitches crossing his face.
Fortunately, Haruto and Hakuto had not been in the car that night. It had been pure coincidence. The kind of coincidence that changed entire lives.
Earlier that evening, both boys had begged relentlessly to attend a sleepover birthday party hosted by one of Haruto’s classmates. Takashi initially refused. The weather forecast had already warned of worsening storms, and Mirae disliked the thought of her children traveling across the city so late at night.
Takashi still remembered standing by the doorway afterward, watching the boys pile excitedly into their friend’s parents’ car beneath the rain.
Hakuto waving wildly through the window.
Haruto mouthing: Don’t forget to call us tomorrow.
Then they were gone.
Safe.
Hours later, everything fell apart.
Back in the present, Hayato squirmed in Mirae’s tight embrace.
“Mama,” he complained breathlessly, laughing.
“Can’t breathe.”
She loosened immediately, startled.
“Sorry!”
But Hayato only smiled and pressed his face against her shoulder anyway.
Careless.
Trusting.
Safe.
Outside, cicadas continued singing beneath the summer heat.
Inside, the television kept speaking softly about investigations, dead scientists, surviving children, and sealed identities.
But for now, the Suo family held each other close enough to drown it out.