“She’s not.” I shook my head. “But there’s someone else. Someone just as psychotic.”
I reached through the bars and pulled her close, pressing my forehead to hers, trying to give her comfort I didn’t feel. My chest ached. I knew why she’d been brought here. I knew what lay ahead for her.
“I’ll do my best to help you, Akiko. I promise. I’ll do everything I can to make sure you survive.”
Her grip tightened on my hand. “Survive? What are you talking about?”
She didn’t know. My stomach turned to stone. She was still in the dark, unaware of what Nokoribi truly was. The nightmare she’d endured a year and a half ago was about to begin all over again. The only difference was that this time, she wouldn’t have me beside her. Protecting her.
“Hey! Hurry up!” a Chopman barked, boots scraping closer.
I forced myself to let go, my voice a ragged promise as they closed in. “Don’t worry, Akiko. I’ll find a way. I promise.”
33
Akiko
The silence after he left lingered. I stayed pressed to the bars, my fingers still tingling where they’d clutched his hand. Jiro hadn’t left me. He hadn’t thrown away everything we had—everything we’d built together. For one impossible moment, we’d found each other again. And for the first time since I’d been dragged here, I felt a little less lost.
But what did that mean? We were both trapped in this place—me locked in a cell, him forced into servitude. We’d found each other, yes, but in the worst possible way.
And then, just as quickly as he’d appeared, he was gone. Only the chill of his words remained: survive.
He hadn’t said what he meant. Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe he thought I was safer not knowing. Or maybe, like always, the truth was being kept from me “for my own good.”
“Hey, Akiko?”
Kai’s voice carried from the cell across from me, snapping me out of my spiral.
“Who was that guy talking to you? How do you know him?”
For the first time since he arrived, Kai was standing at the front of his cell, hands wrapped tight around the bars. In the torchlight, he looked younger than he sounded, his face drawn with worry.
I thought about keeping Jiro’s identity to myself, but that choice was taken away from me.
“That was Jiro Tachibana,” Haru said from the next cell over. “I heard you say his name.” His tone was sharp, bitter.
“Jiro Tachibana? I thought he was dead!” Yoshi’s voice cracked from the end of the row, shrill with panic.
“So what did he tell you?” Haru pressed, his voice hardening. “Share. Don’t keep it to yourself.”
“What’s he talking about?” Yoshi blurted again, his pitch climbing. “Is Jiro helping you?”
Daiki let out a short, dry laugh. “Helping her? Look around, genius. You think any of us are here volunteering—including Jiro?”
He added, “Don’t go quiet now, Akiko,” sarcasm curling around my name. “We’re all dying to know.”
The questions came hard and fast as the cellblock erupted.
“Okay, okay.” My throat tightened. “That was Jiro. But as you can see, he’s not here by choice either.”
“I heard him say survive,” Haru growled, closer now, pressed against the wall separating us. “What did he mean by that?”
“Survive?” Yoshi’s voice shot high, panic rising. “Are we in danger?”
“Are you an idiot?” Daiki snapped. “You think we’re here because we won some raffle?”
“Hey, screw you, man,” Yoshi shot back. “I asked a normal question!”
