Loosely inspired by yesterday's
>>72863664 and the Flash Fiction Festival, I wanted to try writing something myself.
>>73044758Chilled sake
Tags: Lamy, short, abusive Chuuba
"Where is Lamy's sake?!"
The shouting could be heard even here, at the other end of the hallway. You steeled your nerves and did your best to assume a neutral expression. Knocking on the door, you were immediately ushered into the room by two men clad in black suits.
Sorry for the wait, you said, as you put down the tray you were holding on a table made of beautifully carved cypress wood.
At the end of the table sat Yukihana Lamy, heiress to the Yukihana zaibatsu. And the Yukihana syndicate.
Taking care not to spill, you poured the clear liquid into Lamy's glass. Your shaking hands slightly complicated this task.
Not daring to make eye contact, you bowed deeply and then turned to leave through the door. "Stooop", Lamy said, and your way was blocked by the black-suited men. "I didn't say you could leave."
You were forced into a chair at the table, and Lamy reached for her drink. Raising the glass towards the ceiling, she gave a shout of "Cheers!" and brought it to her lips. A frown spread across her face, and you broke out in a cold sweat.
"Aah, it's lukewaaarm" she cried. "Lamy's Yukiyozuki is supposed to be served cold! This is because you were so slow to bring it up from the kitchen!". You blurted out some weak apology, offering to sprint back to the kitchen to fetch ice to chill it down.
"You had better apologize to me!" she sulked, then straightened her expression. "You know how to properly apologize to a lady, don't you?".
"Of course you do, you know our methods. You've been vetted by Lamy's father, or you wouldn't be allowed to serve me."
You knew very well what kind of company you worked for. Unconsciously, your hand moved to caress the snowflake tattooed onto the right side of your chest. It did not go unnoticed by Lamy. "The tattoo marks you as underling to our syndicate. In other words, you're Lamy's property."
With a specific hand signal from Lamy, the men in black suits left the room.
"Roll up your sleeve," Lamy demanded. "Lay your arm on the table."
"Ice? Honestly!"
Lamy rose from her chair and walked over to a cabinet. From it she took a wooden box.
"You've disrespected me twice today. Normally I would cut off one finger for not keeping Lamy's sake chilled, and another finger for suggesting I should water it down,". She opened the box, revealing a knife of blue steel. "but I will not be unreasonable." She slammed the lid on the box closed.
You've never thought of her as a troublesome woman!, you pleaded. It's just you had so many other tasks today, and you really did hurry, but-
Your stream of words was interrupted as Lamy's hand shot forward to pinch your tongue. Immediately your mouth froze, joints and muscles locked up. Your nerves screamed out in pain, but then they too were numbed. Your eyes filled with fear.
"There are other ways to cool down drinks. The nouveau riche westerners use stones, I hear."
She laid her own arm on the table, and realization set in. "Like I said, I won't take two of your fingers," said Lamy, a smile on her face.
"Just the one." She let her hand creep forward on the table, inching closer to yours.
If you moved even a muscle, she wouldn't stop at just a finger. You tensed, your right hand gripping the table so hard that your knuckles turned white.
This time Lamy controlled the flow of her magic, ever so slowly sapping the heat from your little finger. Your fingernail turned blue, darker and darker blue. You felt the veins in your hand cooling, gradually slowing their pumping as the blood in the finger clogged and eventually froze. Next, a searing heat spread out from your finger to the rest of your hand as hypothermia set in. Then nothing, as your nerves died.
Satisfied with her work, Lamy lifted your hand and grasped your little finger. With a sharp CLINK, she snapped it off.
Returning to her seat at the other side of the table, Lamy added your finger to her glass of sake and swirled it around.
"You can take him away now," Lamy raised her voice for the suited subordinates outside. Shaking, from fear or from how cold you felt, you stood from the chair. Sick with relief, you were taken to a doctor and then given the rest of the day off.
