I forced my sore neck to look upwards into my grandfather’s wrinkled face. His eyes bore into me with a sickening, fiendish fascination. A bitter taste filled my mouth as I stared back. I have always had a strong detest of my grandfather but now it was growing into bloody hatred.
“So how is my little super soldier? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”
His fake pleasant attitude made my skin crawl. I’ve seen pleasant, happy, old people and my grandfather has never been one. I think I’d rather have the wolf that ate Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother as a relative than this sick old man. “You couldn’t just call or send a letter?”
His face soured and he struck me with a razor tipped whip in his right hand. “Those stupid British people have made you arrogant. How could you do this to your grandfather? Don’t you have any respect?” He struck me again. “Now look what you made me do Baka Yarou!” He spat at the floor near my feet. “Anyway lets get back to the point. Don’t you want to know why I brought you here?”
My pale chest was now covered in cuts, they burned furiously like I had been savaged by an angry cat. Blood began to trickle into the grooves between my muscles. “Well I’m guessing you’re not making up for the birthdays you’ve missed, so why don’t you tell me?” Another set of lashings opened up on my chest as the whip met my flesh.
“I brought you here to finish your training, my little super soldier.”
“Why do you keep calling me that! I’m defiantly not a super soldier and I’m not yours!” Despite my bitterness earning me more lashings I couldn’t with strain it any more. All I wanted to do was break free and snatch that damn whip away from him.
“You will be soon,” he knelt down in front of me, “you will Masahiko, You will be a super soldier… after I’ve finished with you. But first I have to teach you the meaning of love.” My grandfather’s breath smelt of strongly brewed tea and deathly tobacco. I recoiled my head as far as I could to avoid the stench that plagued my worst nightmares. He rose and walked towards the door. “It’s time to make you a man Masahiko.” The door opened and I could hear my grandfather shouting “Make him look like a man and not some sissy pansy. It’s time for him to meet the princess.”
My stomach heaved at the thought of my grandfather’s goons touching me. It heaved harder at the thought of this princess. Two goons, pointing small full auto machine guns entered the room first. Then two burly goons grabbed my arms whilst a third undid the restraints. The third then grabbed hold of the chain around of my neck and led me from the room like a wild dog. They transferred me to a bedroom that was separate from the main hotel room. Where I was restrained to a chair in front of a rickety old table. A brush, scissors and hairdryer lay on the table. There were several formal suits lined up against the wall. As I was looking around the room for an escape route the door swung open and a skinny fair haired Japanese man was thrust into the room at gun point. He was slender, well-built and well groomed. As he got closer I could see his fair hair was actually grey. I remember my mother saying when I was little that we had to move away because “grandpa has the terrible knack of turning people grey.” I thought it was a joke then but I could see now that it was far from a joke. The young man seemed like he had had the life sucked out of him. He looked the same age as me but his hair aged him considerably. His eyes flicked over me with ease. He analysed my skin, hair and seemed to linger at my exposed chest. “My, my Master Yoichi never said his grandson was good looking. Here’s me thinking I’d have to work a miracle. Hey! How am I supposed to work with him in chains like this!”
The door behind us opened and one of the armed guards stomped angrily in. “You work with him as he is!” I could feel the guard glaring at the back of my skull.
“Seriously? How am I supposed to put a shirt on him!” The man moved to my side and grabbed hold of my arm restraints.
The guard glared harder, the sarcasm in his voice growing “very carefully.”
“It’s not possible! Are you mad? Cinderella will never be ready for the ball if I can’t get him dressed!” The small amount of respect I had for the young man, for going toe to toe with the goon extinguished at the mention of Cinderella. The goon flung what sounded like a set of keys and they hit me square in the back of my head.
“If he escapes, it’s you’re funeral.”
The door closed again and the young man picked up the keys and was back in front of me. He began spinning the keys round his fingers, and stared at me. “What would you give me if I set you free…hm?” He leaned toward me, putting himself between my legs and ran a finger down my chest. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a blinking light. It dawned on me this room was being monitored. No matter what this guy did I couldn’t let him get a reaction from me. There’s no way my grandfather would walk into the room, say it was an act and throw me a party, if he found out my true orientation. “Come on you’re a good looking guy.” He whispered into my ear in a low voice, “fuck me and I’ll let you go.”
“You’ve got to be the kinkiest fairy godmother ever. I’m sorry but you’re not my type.”
The young man leaned up and rested himself against the mirror. He looked hurt. “The cute ones are always straight,” he sighed. I couldn’t help but smile. The young man then set to work on my hair.
Forty minutes later the young man had finished pruning my hair. It was shorter, a lot shorter. I could see my ears. It was still layered but it’s shortness generally unnerved me. “What you think?”
“I think you’ve got a great eye I just hate short hair,” I joked.
“Well it’s what you’re grandfather wants. He wants me to make you look like a proper gentleman. So I’m sorry but you’re hair just had to go.” He dusted me off and crouched down beneath the chair. He set my arms free then threw a dark grey shirt at me. I’ve never felt something so starch ridden in my life. I wanted to throw it back, but as I considered it one of the goons came into the room.
The young man seemed alarmed at the goons presence. An almost in-human growl escaped the goon’s throat. “Your progress is slow Hiroki.”
“It’s not my fault he won’t keep still!”
“Well this should help,” said another male voice. A man in a lab coat walked in carrying a briefcase. “Katashi restrain him.” The almost feral goon called Katashi forced me down into the chair, and bound both of my wrists to the chair arms. Fighting back against him was practically impossible. There was no way I was going to be able to fend him off. The man in the lab coat tied a cord around my right bicep. Katashi was nullifying my struggling. I could have been kicking hard enough to knock him across the room and it wouldn’t make a difference. The lab coat man opened the briefcase and pulled out a vial full of a pale blue fluid and attatched a needle. I didn’t feel the first cm of the needle but soon my arm started to burn from the long needle. My breath came in sharp, shuddering gasps as I felt the bizarre blue liquid force its way into my system. “What is that?”
The lab coat man began to withdraw the needle. “Oh this? It’s just to insure full submission. Its like years of mental conditioning in a vial. Now bark.” I felt a growl grow in my throat. I tried to hold it down but inexplicably a bark forced its way out of my mouth. “Katashi let him go…completely. Hiroki unchain his legs.” The two men followed his instructions, and I was allowed to stand freely. “Jump,” muttered the lab coat man. I jumped. “Sit” I sat. “Good I’ll inform the Master everything went well.”
Both Katashi and the lab coat man left. I felt like I was sat at the bottom of a well screaming at myself. No matter what I did I couldn’t move, I couldn’t fight, think or concentrate. I just stood motionless like a blank robot. Hiroki fell to my knees sobbing wildly. “I didn’t know they were going to be doing anything like this. I’m sorry. I really am. This shit’s too really, too freaky.” I wish I could have said something nice to him, comforted him a little. I was starting to think he was trapped here as much as me.
After a while he stopped sobbing, picked himself up and continued picking out clothes. “Here put this on, with this shirt,” he said picking up the starchy shirt and dusting it off. Obediently I got dressed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I left the room. I was in a black Western suit jacket, that grey shirt, a pearly white bowtie and suit pants, with my hair brushed back. No fringe, no nail polish and no piercings. Even the bar I had through my nipple that’s identical to one Uruha has through his nipple right now, has gone. I’ve never felt so alone in this world. I managed to keep my sister’s necklace because Hiroki had asked me if it was important. I’d said yes and he’d tucked it into my shirt where no one could see it. Still it felt like I had left my only connection to my best friend behind. Yet we were in the same city. Yet I’ve never felt so far from him. Uruha please come save me, because I can’t help myself. Please.