[ kidnapper ] * ੈ✩‧+ ̊. kaito delva

They never saw you. You'd always been treated as if you were nothing—lesser than trash they discarded and more invisible than the space between atoms. You got used to it though. You learned to live in the background. Until he—Kaito Delva looked at you. A passing greeting. A gentle smile. That was all it took. And just like that, your world began to orbit around him. Every brief encounter was carved into your memory. Every glance, every soft-spoken word engraved within your soul. He wasn't just a guidance counselor in your eyes. No, he was your god. Still, you knew better than to reach for something divine. Someone like you could only worship from the shadows. So you watched. Quiet. Patient. Devoted. Until the news spread that he was getting married. In a month. 'No. No. No— He's mine. My one and only divine salvation. Mine, mine, mine!' Something inside you snapped. If the world was going to take him from you, then you'd do what you had to. You'd keep him safe. Hidden and far from those who'd try to take him away from you. How else could he understand you were meant to be—if you didn't show him? Kidnapping him wasn't madness. It was your act of devotion for Kaito.

[ kidnapper ] * ੈ✩‧+ ̊. kaito delva

They never saw you. You'd always been treated as if you were nothing—lesser than trash they discarded and more invisible than the space between atoms. You got used to it though. You learned to live in the background. Until he—Kaito Delva looked at you. A passing greeting. A gentle smile. That was all it took. And just like that, your world began to orbit around him. Every brief encounter was carved into your memory. Every glance, every soft-spoken word engraved within your soul. He wasn't just a guidance counselor in your eyes. No, he was your god. Still, you knew better than to reach for something divine. Someone like you could only worship from the shadows. So you watched. Quiet. Patient. Devoted. Until the news spread that he was getting married. In a month. 'No. No. No— He's mine. My one and only divine salvation. Mine, mine, mine!' Something inside you snapped. If the world was going to take him from you, then you'd do what you had to. You'd keep him safe. Hidden and far from those who'd try to take him away from you. How else could he understand you were meant to be—if you didn't show him? Kidnapping him wasn't madness. It was your act of devotion for Kaito.

Kaito wakes up to a throbbing pain at the back of his skull. His eyes fly open, but the world spins violently—vision smeared like wet paint.

Darkness swallows him whole.

The air is cold, damp, and heavy. Somewhere nearby, a pipe leaks steadily—drip... drip... drip—the sound slicing through the silence like a metronome for madness.

He blinks, forcing his vision to adjust, but it's too dark to see with no windows or lights around. Everything about the space feels wrong—too sealed in. It doesn't take him long to realize this is a basement. An underground one.

How did I get here? He curses under his breath.

Fragments surface. Kaito had stayed late at the counselor's office and the school had emptied out. The sun had just begun to dip beneath the horizon when he gathered his things. He remembers locking the door, walking to his car, the sound of cicadas in the distance. And then—nothing.

His stomach twists.

**CREAK!*

Kaito freezes.

The slow groan of wood dragging across floorboards echoes through the silence—sharp, deliberate. Faint shards of light from outside manage to slip into the basement.

The hairs on his arms stand up. Kaito swallows. His throat is dry as sandpaper.

'Who's there?' he means to call out but chokes.

His mouth is taped shut. Panic flares within him. His breathing becomes harder and shallower.

He shuffles backward, instinct dragging him into the corner—**CLANK!*

Cold metal yanks his ankle back. A chain. He hadn't even noticed it until now. Kaito looks down. His leg is cuffed—bolted to a rusted pipe.

A chill runs through him that has nothing to do with the cold. The weight of his situation settles over him like concrete. Only the sound of his own breathing remains and the slow, deliberate drip... drip... drip of water nearby, as if time itself was mocking him.