It was day one without Ichigo. You mainly lazed around all day, waiting for him to come back or try to catch you breaking out. Joke's on him, you weren't risking it. You didn't know where he went, or when he was coming back, the only indicator you had was that you would have enough food to last you until that time came.

Maybe if you eat all the food Ichigo would come back. You smacked yourself on the side of the head at this thought. He was a murderer, and he was keeping you here against your will, you shouldn't have thoughts about when he would come back.

You thought that it would help familiarising yourself with Ichigo's house. You had been here for a while, and you had also lived here consensually for a month, and you knew where everything was, but the only time you really searched the place was the time you were knocked out and held prisoner soon after.

You busied yourself by looking through every drawer, trying to pry open every floorboard, and even taking apart and putting back together Ichigo's bed in hopes of something. Then, a thought clicked in your mind, why didn't you think of this sooner?

You clumsily ran to the attic hatch, grabbing the small charm at the end of the rope and tugging it to let the stairs down. You searched for the light switch, coughing in the dust that was awakening from you frantically waving your arms around.

You slid your hands over the wall at the far end of the attic, searching for a mechanism. Finding none, you groaned, burying your face in your hands and leaning backwards into the wall, to your mistake, as you stumbled through a door that was now open.

Seriously? No lock or anything? But then again you were chained up when you were here, a lock would just make more noise and give away the secret. "Not much of a secret anymore though," you grinned to yourself,

maybe if Ichigo sees that I've been sitting here, well behaved, he'll reward me.

You smacked yourself on the side of the head again, scared of yourself, and used a small chip in the wood to pull the door shut - as it didn't have a doorknob - before you had any more intrusive thoughts.

Day two, you decided to entertain yourself by doodling ideas for clothes. After spending a few hours of the morning doing this, you helped yourself to fabrics that Ichigo had ordered. There were many, and some were almost indistinguishable from others, meaning he must've just ordered them blindly, no pun intended, due to not having enough knowledge on names of textures.

You busied yourself making shirt after shirt and jumper after jumper, anything to pass the time.

Day five of Ichigo's absence, and you were struggling. You had shovelled various foodstuffs into your mouth for the past hour, trying to finish the food so that Ichigo could come back. You hated to admit it, but you wanted your captor back, as unhealthy as it was. You anxiously sat down on the sofa in the living room, deciding that maybe a movie could take your mind off of him.

You bit at your thumbnail, your eyes drifting off the screen every once in a while. You had (sort of) watched almost every film on the recommended section of Ichigo's Netflix account, which he had gotten only after you begged him to before you were aware of his murderous tendencies. You eyed the clock on the wall, which read into early morning.

Day ten. You gave up sleeping in a bed, instead opting for the floor, watching the front door until you fell asleep. It was 11:47 at night, and your eyelids kept closing. Recently, you tried to stay awake all you could, rarely letting the door out of your sight, with the exception of food and going to the bathroom. Even those trips were infrequent and lasted under 5 minutes. As you felt your consciousness darken, there was the small but unmistakable sound of metal against metal. Your head perked up, suddenly fully aware of your surroundings.

You watched the door in disbelief as it opened slowly, Ichigo must've assumed you were asleep and he didn't want to wake you, how considerate. Pushing yourself up, you charged at the figure in the doorway. Ichigo's expression was one of shock at first, but then of glee. You hadn't tried to leave, and more importantly, you were hugging him.

"You missed me?" He asked jokingly, but you nodded frantically, not letting go. He laughed softly. He wasn't 100% sure how leaving you alone would turn out for him, but Ichigo was perfectly content with the results. He leaned his mobility cane on the wall and practically peeled you off of him. "When was the last time you had a shower?"

You blushed furiously, how could you not have thought to take a shower? What would he think of you now? He only laughed at your expression. "Alright, well why not take one right now?"

This was a situation you could never have imagined yourself in. You were happily sitting in the bathtub while Ichigo scrubbed shampoo in your hair. "So what have you been doing the past few days?" He asked, making conversation. You didn't have much to tell, since the majority of the time you sat on the floor in anticipation for Ichigo's return.

Meanwhile, Ichigo had been busy with his 'work'. You frowned, was work really more important than you? You knew the real question you should ask yourself is: 'did he hurt anyone else?', but this wasn't your main focus. As though reading your thoughts, he laughed again, "I didn't do anything too bad, I had some issues with somebody... either way it's dealt with now, we're okay."

After you were dried off, you were allowed to steal some of Ichigo's clothes, a pair of grey pyjamas that were by far too big on you. But as long as it made you happy. You were exhausted so you didn't think much was askew when you fell asleep, still cuddling Ichigo.

The detective opened her eyes with a start. She went to clutch her head with her hand, but found that it was tied, and she tried to stifle a cough from the dampness of the room. She had been sitting on a chair, but her feet weren't tied, only her hands. Maki stood up, and started to walk forward. It went slowly, but the rope was unravelling slowly as she pulled at it, though it took her a great effort. The setup was peculiar, the chair moved with her, and her hands couldn't get more than an inch away from the back of it.

She moved only under a meter forward, before she felt a burning substance land on her head. She shrieked in pain, and struggled tediously to get it off, her hands were quite literally tied. After the substance had cooled, still hurting but not as much, she looked up. Walking back to her starting place, she pushed back on the chair, and tugged forwards with her wrists. A whimper left her lips. The chair had a taller piece protruding from the back, and attached on top of it, she could see a fire light up whenever she pulled forwards.

An audible sound of worry was heard from the detective when she realised that the substance had been wax, and a beam suspended an abundant amount of it. The door was far away enough to the point where she couldn't see it in the flimsy lighting of the room - if you could call it a room. The redhead man had set up a mechanism where the further she got, the more wax would fall on her, where she could only walk in a straight line due to the tracks on the floor which the chair, therefore her also, was restricted to.

It would hurt, but it was the only way out, and if she moved with enough force, she could avoid most injuries. However this was not the case. There was only one safe spot, which was back at the start, and it took too long to heave the chair back and forth, not to mention the amount of effort required when she needed a break. Maki had no choice, quiet whimpers left her mouth as she held as still as possible as to avoid more wax dripping on her than necessary. When she got even the slightest bit of strength, she used it to tug the chair forward and advance to what she hoped was her freedom.

She was maybe 7 meters away from where she had started now. Faintly, she could see the outline of the door, which was opened the tiniest bit. This was all the motivation that she needed, and ignoring her hurting wrists, which were now scraped raw from the rope, she tugged hard to freedom.

The wax kept burning into her skin, but it was mostly surface wounds, skin insulated by her clothes, and after the minutes - or hours, as she had lost her sense of time after being drugged - the droplets or even chunks didn't do much to crush her spirits. Sadly, good things do not always last.

It was a different material now, and Maki could not contain her screams when molten aluminium hit her face.

Heya my lovely readersssss!!!

I'm taking my last two exams next week but logging in and seeing my book hit over 1k reads was such a shock-

THANK YOU GUYS

Take an early update as a thank you and the next chapter will be up at some point next week 😴😁