A/N.

What was the first rule of Bloody Waves?

You never talk about Fight Club—Wait. Wrong story.

It was *Grab your holly waters!* 

You may have been holding them beside you this whole time, but now it's time to clutch the bottles in your palms and down the whole thing like a shot. Maybe add ten hail Marys after.

This was my way to tell you that the next chapter and the one after (part two and three), may be (R) rated—totally are.

Also, as you might have realized Bloody Waves Vol.II falls more into new adult category than the first book that was young adult.

You have been warned. 

Proceed with caution.

Readers discretion is advised.

This is Wattpad and I'm sure you've seen (or done) worse.

EVERYBODY HAS A CHAPTER THEY DONT READ OUT LOUD.

THIS IS MINE.

Suga

Three and a half years ago.

There was a plane ticket on my nightstand. 

Reminding me how awfully slow time moves inside an airplane. Reminding me that for once more I will stay ten hours caged with my thoughts. Suffocating from my choices.

Last week, four guys attacked Rei in an alley.

First truth-reveal in the story: Only one of them died because of her; she slit his throat before the three others came at her at once. The other three were left to their fates on the snow, and indeed had internal wounds and enough cracked bones to fill a grave when she ran away.

But they would have probably made it alive missing only some fingers from the frostbites. 

I lied to Nanami.

Again.

Because she lied to me too. Because she tricked me. 

I've wondered for years why she was sending me time after time to follow Rei. 

I've thought I've figured it out.

But the truth bashed me in the head and cracked my skull and almost killed me —as I did with the rest three guys.

I've killed them deliberately. I didn't hesitate. I didn't bat an eyelash. I didn't even flinch. 

I ventured straight into fucking serial killer territory. 

Some people collect stamps. Some coins. Some paintings. I collect regrets.

I had a decision to make.

Stay loyal to my Oyabun. Stay a soldier. A slave to her mercy. Stay a pawn in her thorough plan. Because she was there when I needed her.

Or tell Rei everything. Waltz into a girl's world that doesn't know me and turn it upside down. Before fate rewrote herself with waves of blood. 

Save her. Save me. 

Make our own fates.

They say when you make plans God laughs.

I say, when I make plans, Nanami laughs.

Guess what I decided. 

I should have known better.

~~~~~~~

The last time I saw Rei, her slumped shoulders looked like broken wings. Her overcast eyes were where your soul went to fucking die. Don't get me wrong, she was beautiful, but she looked like a dazzling tragedy, specially designed to fuck me up. 

And she did without even knowing it.

She wasn't rain. She was a fucking storm.

Like the one that ripped thirty-two trees from their roots yesterday and delayed my flight to today. Stockholm weather was feeling me apparently. But tonight it was calm and crisp. No ice on the streets. 

 I battled with my thoughts for ten hours on that plane, ignoring the overly-attentive flight attendant that the only thing that she didn't offer me —after I said for the fifth time that I am fine— was a blowjob. I guess swiss airlines really care about their customers. 

I thought that I should go find Rei before I change my mind. Pronto. 

Hopped on my rental bike the minute the plane landed. 

The fucker broke down midway. 

A woman saw me kicking it on the sideway and stopped her car. Her smile when she asked if I need a ride anywhere and the way her eyes had removed every isothermal piece I was wearing, indicated she will give me that ride after she rides my dick. I politely declined.

Has every Swedish woman pledged to fuck me away from telling Rei the truth or something?

I had ten hours to stir in my troubled thoughts and now no time to execute them.

Because it was Friday evening. And guess what happens in Stockholm on Friday evenings. 

A mile-long fucking line to every liquor store. Swedes live by work hard, party fucking harder. Or try dying until the Monday sun comes up. 

And —of course— Rei worshipped that specific culture part.

My plane landed at 9 pm, it was 10.30 pm and I bet my ass she had already rallied her way into drinking, snorting, and swallowing enough substances to send even a six-hundred-pounds tiger to a coma and get her a chemistry award.

Not exactly the state I needed her to be in. 

Also: I wanted to get to her before she leaves her apartment and meets her brain-cell-lacking friends. That night, they had a second anniversary to celebrate their anti-fascism union in that factory ruins they have squatted. Translation: just another excuse to throw a party big enough to inspire films like Project X and get near-death-experience wasted. 

I lost the little time opening I had.

I should have known it was an omen.

I should have walked away.

But still to this day, the things that happened after didn't make it into my regrets collection.

Turn around and walk away. 

That's what I've been telling myself for the past twenty minutes. I didn't have an exact plan in mind. I just entertained the thought that maybe she will listen to a crazy stranger and... then what? Run away with me to the fucking sunset? 

The old factory was packed. Crowds upon crowds of wasted millennials that their problems were that their Prada shoes gave them a blister, the CEO of the company they work for is their dad, the convenience store was out of their favorite organic avocado smoothie or they waited to the liquor-store line for an hour.

I shouldered my way among them, looking for her, ignoring the stench of mold and weed. 

I had to give Rei a credit. She had made two rules that anyone who wanted to get in agreed upon. 

"One. No fighting. Two. No means no." The mountain Viking in the entrance sized me up with furrowed and pierced eyebrows, holding a drug test kit. Turns out you could get every kind of drug inside as soon as it's clean. 

I nodded. 

"Words mate." He snorted and took a step closer to pat me up. Hell, dude, I didn't escape airport security and two rabid blondes to have Thor feeling me up.

"Ja." I may have slipped a mocking tone into the little word, mixed with a little come-closer-if-you-want-a-bullet-up-your-ass dare in my smirk.

"Armed?" he dismisses my subtle threat and puts the unused test kit on a table behind him that had seen better days. 

Yes, but not with patience.

"No." 

He lifts one pierced blond eyebrow, that screams don't bullshit a bullshitter. Hey, Thor has one functioning brain cell after all.

But my patience is evaporating faster than an edible thong at a bachelor party in Vegas.

"No means no," I smirked and walked around him and inside the old shoe factory that for the years it has been unoccupied definitely still smells like old shoes.

He murmured something to another mountain guy, nodding to me. Either to leave me alone or to have me on sight. Based on my luck, it was 100% the second. Winter bastards smell the yakuza from miles.

I didn't worry at all. 

If he could actually spot me in a three-story 5.000 square meter factory that the only form of light inside is provided by the occasional lighters that the 400plus people that crowd it use to light their smokes, I'm actually gonna actually send this fucker's info with stellar recommendations to Nanami cause we could use a guy like that.

Rei wasn't on the first floor, and I hoped she wasn't on the second either as I walked up the rusty stairs to the rooftop, thinking I probably can tell her apart in this crowd and weed fog.

And I wasn't wrong. 

She was indeed on the rooftop sitting on the fucking rusty banister at the edge, that I doubt could hold more than thirty pounds, like a suicidal nymph with her small cult of friends around her. 

I swear she must have been born with some cold defying genes, cause she still favored the vampire-escort-lolita-chic outfit. As always. 

With a little black fitted top, cropped to reveal abs tattoos and a piercing, a plaid skirt that with the first breeze you wonder if you saw ass cheeks, black socks to mid-thigh, boots and an oh-so-innocent bite-lip she threw here and there, the almost 23-year-old Rei was every weeaboo's wet dream. You think I am exaggerating? Tonight she even had her hair parted in two high ponytails, being Harajuku-ready. Or ready to host a live game on twitch and become rich from the donations. Sell gamer-girl bathwater or her used underwear on e-bay.

There was one thing I was always thankful for. Apart from her threaty-flirty sharp eyes, deadly smirk, and coal hair, she didn't look much like Nanami. The rest was all from her father's gene pool. Tall, lean with legs for days. There was I little voice in the back of my mind that whispered I shouldn't be so thrilled by the fact she thankfully isn't taller than me. Cause nothing will ever happen.

I was there to tell her what's going on. But I had to judge if it was too late. What do I mean?

Rei at that point in her life could give Effy Stonem from skins a run for her money. I'm also pretty sure there was a cocaine forest in Bolivia renamed after her. Also, I'm pretty sure she upped the whole Stockholm's population's numbers in illegal drug consumption. And a cartel somewhere in southern Europe was probably built and supported solely by her. 

It wasn't always like this. 

She always was a party girl but in the last six months, things switched and shit had hit the fan. The strongest hearts have the most scars.

One more reason. I'm doing good by telling her.

I pulled my hood up, covering me as much as possible —masks weren't an option; in Europe, they look at you like you are a death plague carrier if you wear one and I learned that the hard way— and try to blend in the dancing crowd and get closer, to evaluate her state. 

Please be sober.

The only good thing about Rei's "friends" is one. I haven't seen Snowflake since that day in the alley. And that about sums it up. If the rest would vanish like her —especially Erik— it would be incredible.

"This color should be called blowjob-red" one of the cult victims around her chuckled, pointing at Rei's lips. "Because that's all any guy will think about when you wear it.

Well, you're not very wrong pewdiepie. Indeed now, my eyes had dipped right to her lips.

"I'm thinking of buying a new car. What do you think Reedson? Will I look good in a Mercedes?" a guy that from the way he is dressed —who wears a fucking suit in a party— makes me think that he probably got lost and ended up here, tries to flirt with her. Hey, we found the Swedish RM.

Rei turns to look at him. She throws him that look from top to bottom that you can't tell if she is planning to seduce you or stab you.

"You will look good in a coffin." She smirks and everyone from their little group cackles like a pack of hyenas.

But it was going to be my funeral and I would be the one to end up in a coffin if every time she grinned my dick wanted to give to her a mouth-to-mouth.

Stick to the fucking plan.

I had to find a way to pull her aside and talk to her. What I was gonna say? No idea. Trust my improv skills I guess. 

I looked but didn't move a step, my feet glued to the ground my back leaning to the chipped concrete wall. There's no way to tell her without making it sound like I'm a creepy stalker.

Maybe I just didn't have the balls. Maybe watching her from afar paralyzed me.

Hey, how do you turn off your own mind? It needs to shut up. Now.

"How can someone so crude and violent create such delicate art? She is fuckable to a fault tho." A hipster guy next to me talks with another group, nodding to Rei, but she is far to hear him and the music is too loud. Don't kill him.

"Yeah, I wouldn't tap that. I heard she got kicked out of the martial arts school because she was being disrespectful." How can I make them shut up?

"You mean she kicked the sensei's ass." They laugh together.

"I've also heard that her ex busted her fucking someone else on his birthday. His best friend. She broke their bro code man." The shorter one next to him replies, taking a swig from his beer.

"Shut up, you would take a full-time job as her reusable tampon if she'd have you. You didn't come here to watch sweaty nobodies get toasted." The first one says back, and I start to wonder if he would sue me for leaving him without teeth, and how many of them came for the slight chance they might get lucky with Rei.

Something I don't recognize bubbles up inside me. It's not only hate, not only anger, and I just hope to God it's not jealousy.

I need to calm down and form a plan asap. 

I walked among the crowd towards some sort of a makeshift bar that had only beers. Great. And I don't drink beer as you can guess. 

I grab one anyway and turn to go back to the other side of the rooftop. 

"Hey blondie, wanna buy some weed?" 

I turn and see a girl, mid-twenties as most here, tall and blond and dressed with some bear-like excuse for a coat, which she opens to show her stash. 

I rolled my eyes and turned away, and bumped directly onto another Thor who judging by the way he looked at me was her pimp or boyfriend. 

I want to roll my eyes to him as well, but guys don't back up that easily. 

"What are you looking at?" From the way he stammers as he speaks I can tell that all the beers missing from the bar ended up in his liver.

I notice with the corner of my eye that two more guys are coming to back him up. And realize that they are determined to cause a scene, or even better a fight, just to make the highlight of the night. Someone wants to die tonight.

I calculate my options. 

I can crash the bottle I'm holding on his face, but then I'll have to fight the other two, that now have already become four. 

And let's say I beat them, then I have to pray I won't become viral from someone recording this shit. And I need to figure out my answer for Nanami, cause she will be asking me how would I prefer to die.

And even if I get away from the fight, yeah, not even me can get away from a fucking factory filled with wasted people.

I know the only viable option I have left, and that is to scare them and walk away as fast as I can.

The drunk guy before me lifts his fist to shove the first punch, I move my hand on my back to draw my gun, and then I feel a hand holding it there back in place.

"There you are. I've been looking for you."

I turned. 

Why really, since I know to who this dark lullaby for a voice belongs.

I turned and saw Rei, radiating her usual sensual grace, throwing an authoritative death glare —that I've seen only Nanami using before —to the drunkard who lowered his fist, and just as that he fucking walked away. 

I didn't expect her to come here, but what I really didn't expect was the casual hand she slipped into mine, then turning and dragging me away with her somewhere.

It's real. Death came and my actual last words that I said out loud were "no means no" in Swedish.

She held my hand in hers. Guided me without looking back. 

I was touching her for the first time ever and it felt... weird and intimate. More intimate than fucking a girl to near-death experience somehow.

I began to realize that maybe I wasn't as immune as I thought I was to her. Now? You realize that NOW?

Because now all I could think about was directing her hand inside that plaid skirt and have her fingering herself with my hand on top of hers.

What happened to you? You had a plan. The yelling and overly-judgy voice in my head is the little angel on my shoulder. 

I didn't know that I was going to be the first one to die.

The burn in my chest intensified, the hole around my heart growing bigger, and Nanami whispers in the back of my mind You play with matches you get burned.