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Mizuki grabs his wrist with her right hand—firm, unyielding. Before he can pull away, she presses the air horn directly against their clasped hands and blasts it for one full second.

Mizuki adds, quietly, only to Tanaka: “I have the audio recording. I have your handprint on my coat. And I have thirty witnesses now. You’re done.” payback touchinv a crowded train mizuki i upd

Somewhere between Akabane and Ueno, a hand—flat, deliberate, serpentine—slid across the back of her thigh. Not a jostle. Not a sway-induced accident. A slow crawl, then a squeeze. Mizuki grabs his wrist with her right hand—firm,