Saeko was walking home nonchalantly through the daunting, late-night street, headphones on her head, oblivious to the danger lurking ahead.
On a nearby bridge, a shadowy figure sprinted across with a guitar strapped to his back. Without any hesitation, he jumped over the railing throwing himself into the abyss. He twisted midair, deliberately positioning himself to take the brunt of the impact, ensuring his guitar remained unharmed.
Under normal circumstances, such a fall wouldn't have been an issue for him. But he still hadn't fully recovered from his last accident.
He crashed into the bushes below, earning fresh wounds. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to his feet and limped toward the nearest alleyway for cover. The policemen chasing him remained on the bridge, scanning the area, completely unaware that he had vanished beneath them.
Slumping against the wall, he exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to his aching chest.
Brilliant. As if a sprained ankle wasn't enough, there was a good chance his recent wound had reopened.
I should call an ambulance. He reached for his phone when a sudden voice cut through the darkness.
"Well, well… What a rare opportunity has fallen from the sky," a figure emerged from the shadows, a knife gleaming in his hand.
"Oh, crap," the guy sighed, "you gotta be kiddin' me."
"This guitar seems to be holding you back. Let me help you with that," the bald man sneered, stepping closer.
"I'm not a big fan of the idea," he clutched the guitar to himself. It was a precious one, especially for him—but still, it was.
"Well, I don't think you're in the condition to put up a fight," he sneered. It was obvious.
"Why don't you spare yourself the struggle," he continued. Sota could have dealt with this thug easily but for his injuries. What a nuisance. He sighed.
"Take my money, the guitar has no value for you," Sota said, mustering his strength so he could keep himself upright.
"Why not both?" chuckled the bald one stupidly, then he stepped on Sota's injured leg, pointing the knife to his chin.
"The fundamental pillars of efficient time management are..."
The woman murmured to herself, still listening to her podcast as she walked past the alleyway.
The man holding the knife froze to avoid being noticed. But his sudden, unnatural stillness had the opposite effect—it immediately put her on alert. Saeko glanced sideways, locking eyes with the attacker. Her breath caught. She reflexively removed her headphones, staring at them, dumbfounded.
"Just keep going as if nothing happened," Suggested the one with the knife.
She stood there, paralyzed by fear.
"It's safer to keep out of this," urged her the victim with an overly calm and confident smile considering the situation… and his condition. The sight of his injuries immediately snapped her out of her shock. Her fear vanished in an instant, replaced by a much stronger instinct. Without a trace of hesitation, she marched to the injured man with determined and steady steps.
"Are you stupid or what?" The thug pointed his knife at her.
Ignoring him, she knelt beside the injured stranger.
"He needs medical help," she replied, scanning his injury.
"Ah, you're gonna need help too, real soon," the man warned, stepping closer.
"Would you let me do my job?" she snapped at him, like a mother scolding a misbehaving child.
The thug faltered. This was not the reaction he had expected from a fragile-looking woman. He stood there, speechless for a moment. Then, driven by pure rage and frustration, he lunged at her with the knife.
Saeko's reflexes kicked in without even realizing. The movements from her formal martial arts training had lived within her instinctively, even though she hadn't had time to practice them since her mother died. As the man attacked, Saeko leaned away from the knife's path and swiftly wrested it from the man's hand. Using her fist, she struck some sensitive points on him. She knew where to aim. Now this was partly thanks to her medical studies. The man struggled to fight back, but he was far from being well-trained. He was simple-minded and relied solely on the knife. Without it he seemed completely powerless.
"Is that all?" Saeko snorted, unaware of the laughter in her voice. She hadn't felt that alive for ages.
"She is insane," the man muttered rather leaving the guitar behind as he ran away.
"You are quite something," Saeko heard.
Hearing his voice, she had suddenly become self-conscious and returned to her normal self. What has gotten into her?
"Are you okay?" she mumbled, as she kneeled back to him.
"Never better. A badass angel has just saved my guitar," he said, grinning as if nothing in the world could trouble him. Somehow, that carefree smile shook her to the core.
"How did you manage to get such injuries?" she grumbled, ignoring his remark. Still, the darkness hid the slight flush on her cheeks. She began treating his wounds with calm, practiced hands.
That was when he realized.
He was bleeding.
Not just a little—heavily.
"Oh," his smile melted away from his face, "I am not so good with blood," he said, then the world around him faded to black.