Monthly Blurb #1

As promised, my first Weekly Blurb! I was busier than anticipated this past week so it’s kind of a last minute write, with very little editing. (How the hell did it end up this long anyway!?)

Any comment and/or constructive criticism is always welcome. πŸ™‚

You may feel free to share, reblog, or comment, but please do not steal my words or take credit for them. Thank you. Β© Alison Juste

Prompt: A spy is discovered and must flee the country. 3rd person POV. Min. 300 words, max. 1,000 words.

One quick glance in her room and Maki knew she was Kimie again; the gig was up. With no time to lose, she hurried to the electric heater, untouched among her possessions now strewn across the tatami floor, took out the back and withdrew a small and slim backpack reserved for emergencies.

Time kept on ticking, she had maybe five minutes to make a clean getaway. Rather than taking the normal route out – taking the stairs and down hallways – and risking an unpleasant encounter, she opted for the window. Using the laundry lines as rope, she inched away from the wall and dropped to grab the next line, which predictably broke but lessened her fall nonetheless.

She moved quietly in the twilight, heading for a bustling neon lit street. It didn’t take long before she distinguished sets of footsteps following her. She maintained her current speed and direction, highly aware of people all the while calculating possibilities and going through train times.

They wouldn’t try anything on this street; it was a buffer zone and too populated for their taste. She knew, she’d spent the last two and a half years undercover after all. Still, she had to lose her tail if she was to make it safely onto the train. Dodging drunk businessmen, she rounded the next corner and dashed a few meters, thankful for her tennis shoes rather than the usual heels. The footsteps echoed behind her, soon followed by voices. “Maki-chaaan!”

“Where do you think you’re going Maki-chan?”

“The boss wants to have a looong talk with you.”

She realized as she approached the next intersection she’d been herded into this side street, no doubt to keep onlookers to a minimum. Three guys blocked the exit in front of her, and she knew there were even more behind her. Great… So much for a clean getaway, but if she took too long she’d miss the train. She broke into a run, focused on the slight opening between one guy and the wall.

The guys stepped forward, arms ready to snatch and restrain her, but she threw them in disarray when she feigned jumping over them and instead gave herself enough speed to slide below. A few passersby stared at her and her scraped leg as she got up and ran away full speed before the guys could catch her. Obviously, they took off after her, but she was smaller and using the crowd to her advantage.

Finally, she made it to the train station and was about to rush through the gates when she collided with someone. “I’m so sorry, I–!”

“Maki-chan?”

Oh, crap. “Haruna-san, it’s been a while.”

Haruna got up, patting her clothes clean. “I know, you quit the club so suddenly only after two months! It’s great to see you.”

Maki smiled politely, shooting nervous glances around and straining her ears. “Why don’t you come to the club with me tonight? You might even make a bit of cash.”

“Ah, I’d love to Haruna-san, but I can’t. I’m going home to check on my father, he’s not doing too well these days.”

The sudden hush that swept through the station was hint enough for Kimie that she was surrounded. Ditching the polite custom, she hurriedly said goodbye and pushed past Haruna to get through the gates, ran all the way up the escalator and held her breath as she ran through the loud buzz signaling the doors closing.

Although she was squished between sweaty people and the door, concealing herself was easier in a crowd. Made it… But she wasn’t out yet… No doubt they had called up all their associates and gotten in all their cars to greet her at the airport.

By the time the train reached Tokyo station, she had mere minutes to hop on the Narita Airport bound train. She forwent the usual patience and pushed through the crowd until the doors closed safely behind her. The train departed and she locked herself in the bathroom for her makeover, although her scratched leg would give her away.

Once at the airport, Kimie fell behind a lone man on the phone, pretending to be with him but just lagging behind. She noticed her pursuers rather easily, no matter how much they tried to blend in, they stood out in her eyes. Either they didn’t anticipate her chameleon attributes or they were trying to lull her into a false sense of security and catch her at the last minute.

She followed the man as much as she could, until it became clear that he was heading for the restroom. She let him get ahead a few steps, then said “Ok, I’ll get the tickets then,” before making her way to the airline counter and proceeding to surreptitiously buy a ticket for an international flight, hiding her credit card in her passport.

Getting to and through security was another story, but she had to go undetected until then. Stopping at a ridiculously overpriced shop, she bought a new outfit and a new, larger bag to hold everything. She changed in the bathroom, making sure her wig hadn’t budged, and headed for security.

Everything would work out, they shouldn’t be able to do anything too drastic around such security. But she was wrong. She was standing in line, ticket and passport in hand, her things ready to be scanned when she heard someone yelling her ‘name.’ She didn’t turn around, despite her instincts telling her to. She was Kimie and knew no one here. But when someone forcibly grabbed her shoulder and turned her around, her fighting instincts took over.

Before her ‘boyfriend’ of two years could make a move, he was knocked out and shoved aside. Unfortunately, she realized she was outnumbered both by the Yakuza and the airport security officers, neither of which would just let her walk away.

Word count: 980

I have issues with this, but I won’t get into them because– for one, I just finished writing this, and for another, I don’t want to. Practice is practice, so hah. πŸ˜› An outsider’s perspective, however, is always welcome, just remember I didn’t spend more than a day and a half developing this. (γ‚ˆγ‚γ—γγŠι‘˜γ„γ—γΎγ™οΌ)

All work published is the intellectual property of Β© Alison Juste. Please do not republish anything from this site without express written permission. Sharing links or reblogging is welcome.
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