a/n: it's been a while, but here's chapter 18! we're almost finished.

quick recap — hina and ren suspect that daizo is with bohai in osaka's medicine tower, planning a mass distribution of poison to give power to rioters rising in the city. in desperate need of manpower, hina and ren turn themselves into the police in hopes of negotiating with nobu okazaki, the detective in charge of the case. nobu agrees—but places hina and ren behind bars. he allows kotomi to redress hina's stab wound.

18. RESPITE

-

"HINA," KOTOMI BEGINS dubiously. "You're thinking about something very strange."

A embarrassed flush rises to my cheeks. We're in one of the lounges in the koban—glass-walled, with a countertop lined with bandages and ointments as I sit on a wide couch. Kotomi's just finished sealing up my bandage, but the truth is, my mind can't stop wandering to the night I spent with Ren in the bathroom. The pounding of my heart, his warm skin beneath my touch, his lips on my skin. His eyes, infinitely vulnerable as they searched mine.

Oh, Hina. Am I really that obvious?

I stare at her childish face. "How can you even..."

"I can practically feel your embarrassment," she points out. "What? You ashamed you have to get a little blind girl to patch up your wound?"

"No," I protest, "I just...you can't even see my face."

"But you can." Kotomi squints her eyes at me. A rush of lime fills my senses—I realize this is the first time I've really seen her. Her large eyes are the color of black coffee, and her round cheeks are freckled, the wisps of hair around her face more unruly than I thought. "You caved and got new contacts, didn't you?"

"Ren got them," I correct.

"Bet you talk to them all the time, huh? That's what they all do. It's like tech is their only friend."

I flush again. "Actually," I realize, "I haven't really talked to Cho at all."

"Her name's Cho?"

"No, I mean't—"

Prompted by her name, aqua pulses to life. Her voice flows smoothly into my ear. "Good evening, Hina. Your battery is at thirty percent. Turn off for charging now?"

My hand touches the charging case in my jacket pocket. I'll charge it up later. "No."

Kotomi jams the roll of bandages back into the first-aid kit and shoots me a weird look. "No? So it's not Cho? You renamed her?"

"No, I was just—" I tap my temple. Cho falls asleep as I wave my hand. "I was saying no to her. You triggered her," I explain. "Or I did. When I said her name."

"Oh. Gotcha." She pushes the first aid kit and mixes some herbal medicine from the cabinet for me. "So...Ren, huh?"

I lean forward, rolling my shoulders, and lean my elbows on my knees. "Do you know what happened that night?"

"Do I know what happened what night?"

"The night Bunta Shen died." My voice lowers—I send a furtive glance out the glass door, as if Ren might overhear even though the cell is across the building. "Did Ren kill him? Or was it Daizo?"

She pauses. The medicine—brown and sour-smelling—foams in the glass cup. I take one look at it and wince. No wonder Bohai hated the stuff. It smelled like shit back in that car, but seeing its full detail? All that pulp inside it sends my stomach flipping with nausea.

"I mean, I wasn't there, so I couldn't tell you," Kotomi answers.

"But you know more than either of us. You knew all three of them when they were in Tenshi."

"So?"

"So," I go on, leaning closer, "what happened after that night? Did their behavior at the orphanage clue you into anything? What about the police investigation? Or Bunta's funeral?"

Kotomi pauses for a long time, her eyes resting unfocused on my face. I wonder what she hears in my voice. Impatience, maybe. The frustration of not knowing. Not being able to understand who you're fighting. Unable to comprehend why something so terrible had to happen to so many people. To obaa-san.

Just when I think she's about to spill all the answers, she turns away, takes the cup of medicine, and thrusts it into my hands.

The hot surface burns my skin. "Ow—"

"A faculty member at Tenshi was charged for Bunta's death," she says matter-of-factly. What is she masking beneath? "The police thought the hit to the head that killed Bunta was an injury he got from faculty abuse. And I can't really tell you anything about Daizo and Ren's behavior after Bunta's death, because they never went back to the orphanage. They ran away."

"Together?"

She laughs. "No. Away from each other. Away from the memories, I'm assuming. I don't know." Defiance sparks in her eyes. "Gee, why don't you just ask Ren yourself? Aren't you two madly in love?"

I choke as medicine burns its way down my throat. "What?"

"Oh, please." Her voice lowers an octave. "Hina needs medical attention. It's the least you can do. That's such bullshit. The guy's worried sick about you."

"He thinks he's responsible for the death of Daizo's family."

She tilts her head curiously at me. "Daizo's family? Now, that's a new one. I always thought Daizo killed his parents."

My blood chills to ice. So I was right.

"Did he really?" I push.

Kotomi pulls in a long breath through the nose and rises to her feet. "I don't know, Hina. When the news came out, the kids made a real earful of jokes about it because it just seemed too...relevant for it not to be Daizo. But I think some people really did believe it. He was always so quiet and off-putting. It scared people. But I don't really know anything. Your best bet is to ask Ren yourself. Or ask Daizo." She raises her brows. "Because I know you're not going to sit around in some cell while hell breaks loose."

A little smile tugs at my lips. I down the medicine in one painful gulp and follow her to the door. "You're not wrong."

"How were you going to do it, anyway?"

I lift my shoulders, then raise an arm. Wires have been tucked carefully into my sleeves. "A bounty hunter's no good without a few lock-picking tricks."

Kotomi rolls her eyes. "Show off." Then she reaches into her jacket and tosses me something cold. "Might as well just take the damn key."

-

WHEN I RETURN to the cell, Ren is slouched against the far corner, taking a nap in the shadows.

I consider tapping him awake. This might be the best time to plan for tomorrow night, given that most of the officers have gone home by now. But something makes me pause.

There's something peaceful, almost boyish, about his face as he sleeps. I sink to the ground beside him, and he leans against me, chest rising and falling. A slow, steady rhythm. My eyes travel across his face—the gentle arch of his brows, his scar soft against his skin, the half-part of his lips. The sight pulls at my chest.

His head falls against my shoulder. "Hina," he mumbles.

My breath hitches. "Yeah?"

He's quiet for a beat, so long I nearly think he's fallen asleep. But then his eyes blink open.

"Hey," he murmurs, shifting upright. "How was it?"

"Hm?"

His lip twitches as he nods at my side. "Your cut."

"Mm...it's okay." I tilt my head and meet his eyes, trying to ignore the jump of my heart at how close we are. "Good nap, huh?"

He turns away and wrinkles his nose. "Not as good as now."

"Very smooth, Ren." My hand wanders into my jacket pocket as he shakes his head, the slightest smile finding its way onto his mouth. "So, Kotomi gave me this."

He glances over as I slip out the key halfway for him to see. Pauses. "How?"

"Come on, Ren." My lip curls. I tuck it away. "She knows we aren't going to let Nobu lock us in here if something happens."

He rolls his eyes and tips his head back. "Of course."

"She told me more about Daizo, too. They say he killed his family." I study him closely, watching for a reaction. But all he does is close his eyes. "Did he?"

A beat of silence passes. Ren turns, his gaze meeting mine with a haunted look that tells me he believes it. "I don't know. Everything after that night is a rumor."

Still no answers. The disappointment hits me with more weight than I expected. I'm not even sure why I'm so desperate to know the details. Is it for myself? Shouldn't it be enough that he's the reason otou-san is gone? Or is it for Ren?

"What happened to the nightmares?" I ask, studying him. "Do you still get those?"

"Sometimes. But they're not that bad. Not anymore." His voice sounds lighter. "Because there's hope now. We're so close, Hina."

I stare at him. We're so close. But why can't the words bring me reassurance? I think of the kiss we shared yesterday, of the way I fell to the kitchen floor crying, and how he took my hand and tucked me into bed. Was that all in the heat of the moment? Maybe we were just two people grieving and in desperate need of company. After all, isn't this temporary?

The silence catches like a hook in fabric. Ren's eyes search mine. He's studying me as if he can read my thoughts, but even as I try to look away, I can't.

"I don't want to leave you after this is over." His voice softens. "You know that, right?"

My throat tightens. It's hard to speak. "Yeah."

The doubt in my voice echoes in the cell. Ren remains quiet. But as I turn away, unsure how to believe and want, I feel his lips touch my hair.

-

"ALRIGHT, LISTEN UP." The following day, Nobu's voice echoes from the main office down to our cell. "I have word from our teams that patches of white wing shipments have been deployed to the city's biggest hotspots. As in, our little kids in the back aren't lying."

A chorus of murmurs answers.

"Yeah, yeah," interrupts Nobu impatiently, "we get it. We chased our tails. But get on your asses and do some research, because we're about to face something big. Something that's going to get our asses kicked if we don't figure it out soon. Alright? Itsuo, get over here. And you. And spit out that gum before you walk into my office."

Voices fade as a tangle of footsteps head into a nearby room. A sliver of gloomy daylight separates light and shadow across the cold cell. Gold torchlight flickers from a lantern over the hall outside our barred doors.

The aroma of jasmine rice and chicken katsu fills the air. Ren says Kotomi delivered us takeout when we were asleep. Now, we squat side by side against the wall to eat. My contact case sits beside me on the floor, pulsing. Cho is charging, rendering the world back into its familiar blur.

Shaking off a wave of drowsiness, I seek out Ren's face and remember, with a start, how strange it is not to see the details. "How long were you sleeping?"

"Till noon. I think it's around mid-afternoon now, but it's hard to tell." He squints his eyes, then shakes his head and studies me. "How's your side?"

I smile. "Better. Kotomi gave me some of that shitty medicine."

His lip pulls as he nudges me. "But it works, huh?"

"Unfortunately. Actually, I was talking to her and she..." My voice lowers—I shoot a fervent glance out the cell bars, searching for a figure among the shadows. But it looks like the officer assigned to guard us has been sent elsewhere. "She thinks Daizo killed his parents."

Ren tenses. "You asked her?"

"She said the news came shortly after you two stopped showing up at the orphanage," I go on. "Kids were afraid of Daizo already, so when he stopped showing up after Bunta's death, they assumed something had happened and he'd gone after his family, too. The suspicions started as jokes. But people took them seriously anyway."

I sense a part of him pulling away from me. "That's between Daizo and I to figure out," he says, voice low. "All anyone else needs to know is that Daizo is angry because he was mistreated for having congenital toxoplasmosis. He wanted mass revenge by incapacitating the city. That's all."

"No. That's not all." Frustration stirs in my chest. "I get it, Ren, that it's a personal issue. I don't want to pry into this. But if someone killed my father as part of a revenge plan, I have to know what it was for."

Ren remains quiet for a beat. Then he sighs, runs his hands through his hair, and passes me chopsticks. "Fair enough," he says reluctantly. "Let's eat."

We lapse into silence. I don't remember exactly how big our cells is—maybe a hundred square feet? Seventy-five? The scrape of chopsticks and crunch of katsu echoes in the empty space. It feels so simple, in this strangely peaceful way, to be squatting against the wall eating from a shared takeout box. Like when we stayed at the safe house, brushing our teeth together, taking turns washing up, laying out our bedrolls together.

Beside me, Ren uses chopsticks to pass me a piece of katsu, then nudges the cup of sauce toward me. "Get some cabbage, too. It's like street sandos, but better."

"Hm." True to his word, the food melts in my mouth, as delicious at it smells. A smile spreads across my face.

Ren watches me, his eagerness mirroring mine. "Right?"

"Mm," I agree, surprised. Kotomi sure was generous. Heart lifting, I tap my chopsticks together and reach toward the blur of brown and white. "Pass me another one."

He studies me for a second, then he turns away to grab another one for me. "Check out the stand with me. When this is all over and our names are cleared, we'll get something fresh on the streets." His eyes meet mine again. "Yeah?"

"Sure." For some reason, I can't shake the feeling that this is only a dream, fleeting, just one of many promises people would like to make but can't keep. "I'd like that."

A fleeting smiles touch his face, the slightest pull of his lips. I wonder if he can hear the fragility in my voice. If he's daunted, too, by the odds that loom high against a future of rest and healing. He leans away from the food as if to say more.

A sharp blare disrupts the silence.

The sounds is so abrupt I jump. It's muffled, as if coming from a distance, but I hear it all the same. It's an alarm, and it's escalating into a wail.

My bones chill to ice as voices stir across the koban.

"The hell is that?"

"I don't know. I'll get in touch with the boss—"

"It sounds kind of familiar, actually..."

Heart racing, I exchange a glance with Ren. The food sours in my stomach.

A door slams open in the distance, and footsteps rush in a hurry. "Shit!"

Chairs shriek back. "What? What?"

"It's the damn Medicine Tower. Shen acted hours earlier than expected."

"What—"

"You're kidding—"

"Well, where's Nobu?"

"He and Itsuo are at Daizo's house. They barely secured a warrant after all that shitty white wing we found at the castle and night market."

"Well, then they're nearby. We gotta go."

More footsteps. The click of guns. Rustles of jackets, slamming doors. "Go, go, go! Masako, Toshiaki!"

"Hai!"

"Don't forget your gas masks—"

My heart pounds as the koban empties out in a panicked rush. Ren pushes aside the food and jumps to his feet. This is it. I put in my contacts, shove the case into my pocket, and touch my temple.

Lines shoot across blurred vision like lightning. Each scrape on metal becomes clear. Fog against the windows. Fissures in concrete. Ren, beside me, his dark hair tousled, scar frowning, bright coffee-brown eyes alight with fierce fire. I'm breathless with the dizzying clarity of it.

"Cho," I say, "you got any city-wide warnings for me?"

"Good afternoon, Hina," she answers. "I have a quite a few. Five, to be exact. Two evacuation warnings in Minami District and one evacuation warning in Kita. At the Osaka Castle."

"Great. What about the Tower?"

"The Medicine Tower, Hina? None. Just panic."

I swear under my breath. Ren meets my eyes for answers, but I shake my head and reach into my pocket for Kotomi's key instead.

"I don't know what's with the alarm," I report, breathless. "We need to get our weapons and go."