Getting tied up by Chisaki's goons wasn't exactly how I imagined spending my evening. I mean, I figured I might get caught eventually, but I always imagined something cooler—maybe a daring rooftop chase or, I don't know, jumping out of a moving car.

But no. Here I was, zip-tied to a chair in the world's creepiest warehouse, looking like I'd lost a really aggressive game of "pin the tail on the donkey."

"Hey," I called out to the two lackeys standing guard. "Quick question. Are you guys villains full-time, or is this more of a side hustle? Asking for my LinkedIn connections."

The bigger one glared at me, his face a permanent scowl. "Shut up."

"Wow, okay, solid communication skills," I said, nodding sagely. "I'm sure Chisaki values your input during team meetings."

"Shut. Up," he growled again, stepping closer like he was trying to intimidate me.

I leaned back in my chair, smirking. "You really like repeating yourself, huh? Did you major in redundancy, or is that just a natural talent?"

The other lackey snorted, quickly covering his mouth when Scowly McGrumpface turned to glare at him.

"Don't encourage him," Scowly snapped.

"Oh, don't blame him," I chimed in. "I'm naturally entertaining. It's a gift, really. You should see me at parties."

"Do you ever stop talking?" he snapped, rubbing his temples like I'd given him a headache.

"Not really," I admitted cheerfully. "But hey, if you let me go, I promise to keep quiet for, like, five whole minutes. Deal?"

Scowly ignored me, muttering something under his breath about "why do we even bother with this kid?"

Time passed. I wasn't sure how long. Long enough for my legs to go numb and for me to start seriously considering whether I could gnaw through the zip ties like a feral raccoon.

Then, the door creaked open, and in strolled Chisaki, looking like he'd just finished a five-star dinner and decided to ruin someone's life as dessert.

"So," he began, his voice calm and almost polite. "Where were we?"

"Oh, I think you were about to let me go," I said brightly. "You know, as a gesture of goodwill and holiday cheer."

Chisaki tilted his head, his golden eyes narrowing. "Funny. I don't recall that."

"Selective memory," I said, shrugging as best as I could while zip-tied. "It's a real problem these days."

He stepped closer, his expression unreadable behind that creepy mask. "You said you're quirkless."

"Yep," I replied, popping the 'p.' "Hard to believe, right? I mean, with my charming personality and all, you'd think I'd be unstoppable with a quirk."

Chisaki ignored my sarcasm, his gaze calculating. "And yet, you managed to infiltrate my warehouse, evade my men, and steal from me."

"What can I say? I'm resourceful," I said with a grin. "And your security system is, uh, let's just say 'not great.'"

The big guy guarding me tensed, clearly offended. "Our system is top-notch!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Your system has the same password as my grandma's Wi-Fi. And she's 87."

Chisaki raised a hand to silence his lackey, his gaze never leaving me. "You're interesting."

"Aw, thanks," I said, batting my eyelashes. "You're not so bad yourself. Love the mask, by the way. Very vintage."

He ignored that, stepping even closer. "What's your goal here? Why risk your life for this?"

I hesitated. For all my sass and sarcasm, I knew this was a dangerous moment. Chisaki wasn't the kind of guy to ask questions out of idle curiosity. He wanted answers—and if I didn't give him something, he'd probably start getting creative.

So, I went for honesty.

"There are kids out there who don't have anything," I said, my voice quieter now. "Kids who are cold, hungry, scared... They deserve better. And if that means stealing from guys like you, then yeah, I'll risk it."

For a moment, Chisaki didn't respond. He just stared at me, his gaze unreadable.

Then he straightened up, brushing off his coat. "Fascinating."

"Glad you think so," I muttered, glancing down at my zip-tied wrists. "So, uh... about letting me go?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he turned to his men. "Keep him here. I want to know more about him."

"Wait, what?" I spluttered as the lackeys moved to secure me even tighter. "No, no, you've already learned plenty! I'm an open book! A very boring, unremarkable book!"

Chisaki ignored me, heading for the door.

"Hey!" I called after him. "You know, if you're this obsessed with me, you could've just sent a Christmas card! I'm not that hard to find!"

The door slammed shut behind him, and I was left alone with Scowly and his buddy.

"Well," I muttered, slumping in the chair. "This is just fantastic."

"Shut up," Scowly growled.

"Make me," I shot back, grinning despite myself.

Because if there's one thing I've learned, it's this: Even when the odds are stacked against me, even when I'm tied to a chair in a villain's lair, I'll always find a way to fight back.

And maybe—just maybe—I'll make them regret underestimating me.