The cart rolled to a stop, and in one swift motion the Chopman stepped out and motioned for me to follow.
“Wait, what did you mean by Akiko not being lucky?” I called, hurrying after him. “Hey, Mr. Chopman!” I grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Answer me. What kind of trouble is Akiko in?”
“The worst kind.”
41
Akiko
I kept pacing between my platform and the bars, every small sound tricking me into thinking Jiro was coming back. But I hadn’t seen him since breakfast. Lunch had been handed out by a Chopman; dinner too.
It had only been five minutes since I’d been passed a bowl of rice and grilled fish. It sat cooling on my platform. Around me, I could hear the others eating. The dull clink of chopsticks against bowls, the greedy slurps echoing off the stone.
“Hey, Akiko, if you’re not hungry, I’ll take your food,” Kai called from his cell.
“And how’s she supposed to give it to you, stretch her super-long arms across?” Daiki shot back. “Idiot.”
“I’ll take it, then,” Haru chimed in. “I can reach her bowl easy. What do you say, Akiko… Help out an old man?”
“Or you could pass it along to me,” Yoshi added. “I’m starving.”
I wasn’t giving my food to anyone. I went back to my bed and forced myself to eat, though my appetite was gone.
All I wanted was to see Jiro again. To hold him. To hug him. To tell him I loved him. I hadn’t said it the last two times, and the thought made my chest tighten. What if those had been my only chances? What if the last time I’d ever see him, I’d kept my mouth shut? He needed to know I’d never truly given up on him. That even through the confusion, the anger and hurt—deep down, I never believed he’d really left me.
When it became clear no one was getting my food, the begging, the sweet-talking, and even the name-calling stopped.
I don’t know how much time passed as I sat on my platform, back against the wall, legs stretched straight out, feet barely hanging off the edge. My empty bowl sat beside a half-filled bottle of water. I kept wrestling with the same thought: I’d been dragged right back into this sick, twisted reality. Another version of the apprenticeship.
What bothered me most was how easily I’d been duped. That’s exactly what it felt like. Miki had warned me about Keiko, over and over. But I’d wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. I mistook manipulation for a change of heart. I should’ve seen it coming. Maybe I could’ve stopped this. Instead I’d walked right into it. Gone along willingly.
Keiko probably didn’t even need the Chopman to drag us to Tokyo. Giving Miki and me access to the chat history was enough to set the trap. We were primed to go.
The anger inside me kept building, mixed with betrayal until it crowded out everything else. I was obsessed with getting back at Keiko. I wanted to punish her selfishness, to make her understand she couldn’t get away with it.
“Little one, I can hear the wheels in your brain turning.”
It was Haru, pressed against the wall again, his voice slipping into my cell.
“Why do you care?” I asked.
“Because we’re a team, aren’t we? You haven’t forgotten about our deal, have you?”
The nerve of this guy. I moved closer to the wall so our conversation stayed between us. “There is no deal, Haru. You called me a greedy little bitch for not giving you my dinner. You think that’s how alliances are formed?”
“I didn’t mean it. That was my hunger talking. If I could take it back, I would.”
“Yeah, right.”
“But you agree with me… we have an alliance?”
“We have nothing, Haru. I’m locked up behind bars just like you, waiting for whatever’s coming.”
“But your boyfriend, he’s helping you. I heard you two scheming. Don’t deny it.”
“Yeah, well, even if he was, have you seen him come back? No. He hasn’t.”
Haru didn’t answer right away. For a moment I thought he’d retreated to his platform, but then I caught the sound of his breaths against the wall.
