The admiration was ours.
47
The crowd’s roar still echoed in my ears when the Chopmen shoved us through the gate into the corridor. Masaki was waiting. He wore the faintest smile, stepping forward to take the knife from my belt and the shield still strapped to my arm.
“You did well,” he said, unfastening the straps of my mask.
Cool air rushed in the moment it came off. I drew a deep breath.
“The eye slits are too small. Can you widen them?”
He nodded once.
When we reached the Nikubeya, faces pressed against the bars to greet us—even Haru’s. The room erupted in cheers, fists pounding metal.
“You survived,” Yoshi called. “There’s hope for us.”
“We couldn’t see anything, but we heard the crowd,” Daiki said. “We didn’t know if we should cry or cheer.”
Masaki led me into my cell.
“Don’t forget,” he said, voice flat again. “Later you have the Blade challenge.”
“Any advice?”
“Not yet.” He slammed the gate shut and locked it.
“Hey, Kai, is that a battle wound on your head?” Haru asked.
Kai grinned through the dried blood on his temple. The gash across his scalp had been stitched, black thread stark against his skin.
He shrugged. “You give some, you take some, right?”
“Tell us—what was it like?” Daiki asked with a dry chuckle. “We’re dying to know.”
“Yes, give us all the details. Don’t hold back,” Haru said, cozying up to the wall.
I looked over at Kai, still grinning wide. “I think Kai should tell it. He was the hero. He saved me.”
They cheered for Kai, chanting his name as he launched into a version that painted him the hero. I was okay with letting him have his time in the spotlight. He would make it home.
The others still had their Soemono to compete in. I had another challenge waiting: just an hour’s intermission before the Blade challenge.
I sat on my wooden platform, listening as Kai spun our fight into legend—a mythical battle, like it had happened eons ago and been passed down through generations.
I didn’t notice him at first—one moment I was staring through the bars, listening to Kai’s voice, and the next Jiro was there, grinning.
I shot to my feet and ran into his arms. His warmth, the solid strength of his arms around me, it was everything in that moment. He held me tight, peppering my forehead with quick, desperate kisses.
“You have no idea what it means to be holding you,” he said. “You were incredible out there. How did you know?—”
“Shhh.” I pressed my lips to his ear. “I had help from Miki.”
His eyes widened. “You got to see Miki?”
“Not exactly. She convinced a Chopman to help me. He told me how to beat Keiko. But now there’s the Blade challenge. And he doesn’t know what it is.”
Jiro’s grin faded into something harder. “I do,” he said quietly.
