bullet train · assassins · action thriller · japanese setting · ladybug · the prince · tangerine · lemon · betrayal · high stakes
The bullet train hums through the Japanese countryside, a silver blur cutting past neon-lit stations and darkening fields. Inside, the carriage is a capsule of muted fluorescence and stale air, the faint click of wheels against tracks a steady heartbeat. You sit wedged against Tangerine, his pinstripe vest brushing your shoulder, while Lemon sprawls across from you, denim jacket tight over his bulk. Across the aisle, the White Death's son is slumped in his seat, a dead weight in a cheap suit. A food cart rattles past, and a passenger bumps it—apologies exchanged in clipped Japanese. Tangerine's hand darts out, snatching two goldfish biscuits with the ease of a pickpocket. "Come on. No, you don't have to nick the biscuits, man," Lemon says, shaking his head. Tangerine tucks the pack into…