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A strange man in a gas mask and a lab coat accosted Mikage as she left Orihara Izaya’s apartment complex. The stranger just barely dodged her foot as it swept the end of the mask and tried his utmost to reassure her that he was merely a street vendor offering samples of a new energy drink. Mikage found him frustratingly odd, which made his story somewhat feasible.
These types of guys are kind of weird and gimmicky, aren’t they?
He had her more or less trapped in the apartment entrance, and this late at night, it wasn’t as though he could pursue other targets. Likewise, Mikage’s escape was further hindered by the lack of crowds offered in later hours. The man was fast enough to evade her kick and aggressive enough to keep pushing his wares, so the best way to diffuse the situation was to just take the thing and move on.
Mikage sighed and snatched the little bottle. Consequently, the eccentric man jaunted off, probably to harangue his next victim.
“How cumbersome…” Mikage mused as she looked over the vial. Given the nature of the meeting she just came from, or hotpot hostage situation, she honestly couldn’t decide which; she decided to give the drink a try. A little sip would hopefully get her through the lesson planning lost at Izaya’s.
The stuff hit her as hard as she hit her brothers when they fought. Overcome by dizziness, Mikage grasped for the nearest wall and slid down into unconsciousness.
When she came to, vision foggy, she looked about at unfamiliar surroundings wearing nothing but a ki far too large for her person. Nothing seemed off to her, but she could not remember the events of the previous night. In fact, there was a lot she could not remember, but she herself could not know the extent of what she didn’t know. She hopped off of the couch she found herself on and immediately noted the lack of a belt to bind the already too-big ki.
Mikage held the robe closed until she chanced upon a large, black, collared shirt and a blue scarf tossed unceremoniously across the back of a chair. Considering the attire a vast improvement over the ki, she donned the newfound clothes, using the scarf as a sash.
Next was to find her way home. This meant finding an exit. The only problem was that the doors all struck her as similar, so founding an “out” would be a lot harder than she desired. She reached for a knob at random and heard a flush. It was already too late. She was in motion. The knob offered no resistance, and Mikage found herself stumbling into a leg.
The girl looked up to see black. Black pants. A similar black shirt to the one she found. Black hair. Most unnerving to her in this state, though, was the large scar covering the right side of the man’s face and the piercing gaze that topped off his menacing look. Mikage leaped back and emitted a shill shriek.
Of course she didn’t recognize Izumii Ran. Sharaku Mikage was now 10 years old and scared out of her mind.