It had only been a few hours, and Akira was already sick of taking care of the little girl.

  Her tantrums were certainly justified, but the problem was that he was the only person she could take it out on. He’d been hit, kicked, and bitten too many times by the kid.

  She already had multiple escape attempts, but Akira wasn’t going to just say no to a bathroom break if she asked for it. There was no way in hell he wanted to be responsible for cleaning the brat up if she made a mess out of herself.

  It was bad enough that moron, Goto, gave up a bunch of information under threat of torture. No one thought he’d be immediately caught by Nishikawa when they sent him back to the apartments. But now, they had to move locations, and the logistics of moving the girl were a nightmare.

  The best they could manage was hiding antihistamines in a drink to put her to sleep. She would have made a scene if they carried her out of the hotel still conscious. Luckily, she’d worked up a thirst from crying and hollering, so Akira didn’t have to resort to force-feeding them to her.

  They ended up moving to an illegal casino run by the Shishiba-gumi. The hotel chain was the legitimate business (and a source for money undering), but the gambling dens were hold-overs from the old brass.

  It was the perfect pce to confine someone. Underground, hidden from anyone not in-the-know, with the bunker-like cells originally constructed to serve as a debtor prison. The girl was dropped in one of those cells, and Akira was posted up outside of it to keep watch.

  He was probably more anxious than anyone else about them locating Midoriko. If they couldn’t bring her in, was this childcare duty gonna fall onto him permanently? He groaned, dreading that possibility.

  “Papa…Papa…?”

  Akira heard the girl mumbling from inside the cell. He’d heard her whining for Nishikawa back at the penthouse earlier and hadn’t thought anything about it at the time. But there was something different about her cadence that caught his attention now.

  “Papa? Can you hear me, Papa?”

  Akira froze, a cigarette between his fingers halfway to his mouth. He strained his ears to listen over the muffled music and chatter coming from the casino.

  “Papa, I fell asleep and woke up in a different pce…”

  She’s communicating with him…!

  Akira jumped out of his seat and quickly unlocked the door. The kid probably didn’t know enough to tell him where they were, but he had to find out exactly how she was communicating with him. There was no way she had a phone, right?!

  He flung the door open to find her clutching something in her hands connected to a string around her neck.

  “Papa! What do I…!” She stopped herself when she saw Akira rush in.

  He yanked at the string hard enough to snap it and pulled the object—a jade magatama—from her hands. The girl futilely tried to grab at it as Akira held it out of reach.

  “Give it back!” she cried.

  “What the hell is this?” he muttered, holding it up to his face for a closer look. Akira put the magatama in his hand.

  It was cool and smooth to the touch, like any ordinary bead. How did it work? He brought it to his mouth and spoke into it. “Testing, testing.”

  Akira then held it up to his ear and listened. Nothing. He furrowed his brows. Is she really using this to communicate?

  “Give it back!” repeated the child, now on the verge of tears. She clutched at the bottom of his shirt. “I need that!”

  He looked between the jade magatama and the girl. There was a strong possibility it was enchanted, in which case he had to neutralize it. Akira squeezed the magatama in his hand, contempting what to do with it.

  …But if it wasn’t enchanted, there was no reason to destroy her lucky charm, was there? That would be unnecessarily cruel if it brought comfort to the kid.

  Akira sighed, then dropped the magatama onto the floor. It bounced a couple of times, then settled at the girl’s feet.

  Itoko scurried to snatch it up before he could take it away from her again. Then, she retreated to a corner across the room.

  Akira stepped out of the room as she helplessly called out “Papa!” into the bead. If it was for communication, it sure wasn’t now.

  After he relocked the door, her cries grew into hysterical wailing. Akira picked up the cigarette he dropped and rubbed his temples. It was going to be a long night.

  He sat down after shutting a small window on the door to the cell. It didn’t completely block out the noise, but muffled it a little more. Akira puffed his cigarette while looking down the long maintenance hallway leading back to the casino. At least the noise from there will drown this out.

  Akira pulled up Midoriko’s contact on his phone. Their st message exchange was the morning of this whole kidnapping plot. He’d reminded her that they were supposed to meet, and she left him on read.

  He started typing out a message.

  ‘Miss Midoriko I…’

  No. Delete, delete. Try again.

  ‘I’m so…’

  His thumb hovered over the keyboard. There was truly nothing he could say at this point to smooth things over, was there? She’s probably figured out everything by now.

  Akira ughed bitterly as he closed out of the messenger, then put the phone in his pocket.

  ***

  “I used you and dumped you. Poor you.”

  The appearance of the man saying those words to Midoriko shifted like smeared paint, alternating between two familiar faces. One was the man who’d said that to her so many years ago, and the other was the man who’d just held her in his arms and professed his love to her not long before.

  “That’s not true!” she retorted as the man’s appearance fixed in pce as Ryouma’s.

  “But I don’t need you anymore,” he said, pulling his hands away from her’s. His bckened, cursed arm was normal.

  “P-please! Don’t!” she cried, gripping desperately at his hands as he turned away from her. “I still need you! I want you!”

  Ryouma stopped. He slowly turned around.

  The curse was consuming his entire body now as it spilled over his pale skin like bck ink on bnk paper. He looked at her with cold indifference.

  “...!” Midoriko’s breath caught in her throat.

  “So, you want me to stay like this?” he asked, grasping her face with his hands. “Even if it means I’ll die?”

  “N-no! That’s not–!” she choked out as he moved his hands down to her neck. The cold sensation of his hands was like being slowly submerged in ice water. Her breathing became more bored and sharp.

  Ryouma pulled her closer by the neck. She tried to push him away, but couldn’t find the strength. Tears spilled down Midoriko’s cheeks.

  “Midoriko… I would die for you. Do you want me to die for you?”

  “NO!” she shouted. The twilight of nightmare and reality wove together for one final moment.

  “Nngh…Ow…” a low voice groaned beside her.

  The light of dawn was spilling into the room from the veranda door as Midoriko’s eyes adjusted. She was dressed in her pajamas again—presumably Ryouma’s doing after she fell asleep. Next to her, he was rubbing his face.

  “Why did you hit me?” he mumbled, still half asleep. She was halfway within his embrace, having been fully within it before she’d started thrashing in her sleep. Ryouma let go and rolled onto his back.

  “I-I’m sorry… I had a nightmare…” Midoriko said soothingly as she patted his hair.

  “Mhm… Must have been a bad one…” Ryouma’s eyes fluttered open. He smiled gently when he saw her, then tucked her hair behind her ear. “What was it about?”

  The tension left Midoriko’s body at the sight of his smile. How could she even have that kind of nightmare when he was like this?

  “It was nothing. I don’t even remember it now,” she lied, burying her face in his chest and breathing in the resin scent of his curse. “What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’ve already brought her home.”

  “Hm… About that… There’s been a change of pns.”

  Midoriko lifted her head and frowned. His usual confident smirk was absent, repced with a dead-serious look in his eyes. The joyful sounds of the early morning forest were drowned out by her own heartbeat.

  “Wh-what happened?”

  “Nothing yet,” he replied, sitting up. Ryouma combed his fingers through his hair, trying to tame his bedhead. “It’s just…”

  He cast her a sideways gnce, then sighed. Ryouma chewed on his words for a moment before continuing. “Well, you got your way. You’re part of it now.”

  “You don’t seem too thrilled about it,” she said, frowning.

  “You’re right. I’m not.”

  “Then why the change of heart?”

  He cocked his head to the side and smiled bitterly. “Because, according to the I-Ching, our success hinges on you. Apparently.”

  “What does that mean?” she pressed. While Midoriko was gd to be able to help, she didn’t like the way that sounded. Ryouma’s attitude wasn’t helping either.

  “Don’t worry about what it means,” he said, stretching. “Just worry about the pn.”

  Midoriko’s brows knitted together. “...The pn?”

  There it was—the usual smirk returned to Ryouma’s face, signaling to her that he already had something outndish in mind. He reached his hand out and booped her on the nose.

  “You’re going to let yourself be taken in by those bastards. Have them bring you to Itoko. Then, Xiǎomíng will get the two of you out of there…” he expined methodically, dragging his finger down to her lips. “And I’ll exterminate the bugs.”

  Chills ran down Midoriko’s spine from the sense of déjà vu she felt. Of course, she thought bitterly, This is the man who took down an entire gang to protect me. Why did I think this would go any other way?

  “Ryouma…” She pulled his hand away from her face and pressed it between her own hands. “Isn’t there a better way to go about this? Like–”

  “Like who? The police?” he scoffed. Ryouma pced his other hand on top of her’s, their hands now stacked together. “That stopped being an option the moment you chose to rely on me.”

  She swallowed hard. He really had dragged her down to Hell with him before she’d realized it, hadn’t he?

  “Is this…how you normally handle something like this?” Midoriko looked him in the eyes. “You did this before. At least twice, right?”

  “For that child, I did it out of anger,” he said quietly. The way Ryouma met her gaze was almost hypnotic. “But for you…”

  He leaned closer to her until the tips of their noses brushed against each other. She stared into his dark irises that seemed like two bck holes sucking her in.

  “If it’s for you, I’d do anything,” he decred.

  Even die? The words danced on her lips, but Midoriko couldn’t bring herself to say them. Instead, she pressed them against Ryouma’s.