Pussy-care Prescription
Chapter twenty
Nyomi
Three nurses and one female doctor stood around Deja in a corner. She'd been holding an impromptu TED Talk for several minutes.
The female doctor sighed. "The men I meet do not make the amount of money I do. The Dragon pays me better than any hospital. My mother says I should aim lower for men. She introduced me to one guy. He struggles, but sells anime-themed phone cases on one of the corners of Shibuya Crossing."
"Hell no." Deja wagged her finger. “If he wants to marry a doctor he’s going to have to do more than that.”
“But. . .I have not dated in so long I fear. . .my passion is leaving me.”
"What does that mean? Are you playing with your pussy?”
The guard next to me shifted as if he was close to rushing out of the space.
The doctor widened her eyes. “Well. . .sometimes. . .”
“Hell no. Listen. Play with your pussy at least every other day."
I snorted.
Girl. . .
The shocked doctor looked at the nurses as they chuckled.
“Girl, it’s your pussy. Be nice to her.” Deja shrugged. "Always aim high. Men who make money aren't great finds because they're rich. It's because they have the characteristics of people that know how to make money and keep it."
The doctor adjusted her glasses with the back of her wrist. "Such as?"
Deja held up her fingers and folded them down one by one. "Most rich guys have discipline. They do what needs to be done even when they don't feel like it. Second, a lot of rich guys understand delayed gratification. They sacrifice today's comfort for tomorrow's rewards.”
The doctor widened her eyes.
Deja continued, “Then, there’s the fact that they are more responsible than broke guys. They take ownership instead of blaming their mama, their daddy, their ex, or the goddamn weather."
One of the nurses snickered.
"Four is of course. . .resilience. A rich guy gets knocked down and he usually gets back up.
He doesn't quit because the road got hard.
" Deja's voice slowed. "Five is emotional regulation.
Rich guys don't lose their whole mind because they didn’t get the promotion or whatever.
They sit with the feeling, let it pass, and then create opportunity to win. "
“Oh my.” The doctor was nodding now. “I like this list a lot. What’s the last one?”
"Integrity. Their name and empire mean something. What they say and what they do tend to match up. If you can find one man with those six, baby, you can build a whole life with him. The money is the result of the man. The man is not the result of the money. You feel me?"
“Yes. I. . .feel you a lot.” The doctor stared at her. "I have never heard it explained that way."
"That's because nobody is teaching women shit like that. Instead, we see movies where the girl bypasses the rich guy for some basic ass dude for love." Deja rolled her eyes. “Men run the media industry and stay trying to get in our heads. Now why would she not pick the rich guy?”
One nurse opened her mouth in shock. “And the rich guy is usually the bad guy.”
“Exactly.” Deja pointed at her. “Oh girls, don’t be gold diggers. Pick the men that don’t know how to make money. Now why would I do that when the dude can’t even afford my pussy?”
All of the women blinked—the nurses and doctor.
One of my guards cleared his throat.
“Naw. Always aim high. Unless of course you are a Bargain Basic Bitch.”
The doctor quickly shook her head. “I am certainly not that.”
“Exactly.” Deja snapped her finger twice. "Aim higher. The fat wallet shows character. Let the broke guy figure his shit out and learn how to be a proper man."
The doctor bobbed her head. “Thank you so much. This is so insightful.”
“And you’re a doctor. You can afford the exclusive health clubs and high-end restaurants.
Go there with your hair down, make up on, sexy dress, and spoil yourself in front of these rich guys.
They’ll be looking at you like, ‘I have to get her.’ Make them work and play with your pussy yourself the whole time until they’re worthy to get it. ”
The doctor blushed. “Well. . .”
Deja snapped her fingers again. “That’s your pussy-care prescription for today.”
One nurse clapped.
Another asked her a question.
Alright, Dr. Deja.
And I just wondered if Deja understood that she would not be leaving Japan anymore. If Rin didn’t force her to stay, the women of Japan surely would.
Nika would be on the floor laughing if she saw this. Thank God Deja is with me right now. I need these funny moments.
The war pressed against my chest from the inside.
It had been pressing since Yoichi pulled me into the basement. Kenji was somewhere on the island fighting along with Reo, Hiro, the Claws, and Fangs.
Zo’s raggedy ass was still snoring in the next room. Two guards stood next to him and were told to let me know as soon as he woke up.
That damn man is really going to sleep through the whole war.
My mind went back to Kenji.
Fuck. Please. . .be okay. That sacrifice had to be enough. Right?
I turned back to the incubator.
The twins lay together on a soft white blanket inside the clear curved walls with their little eyes closed.
Two tiny bodies tucked against each other like one folded shape.
The smaller one had his cheek tipped toward his brother's shoulder.
The other had his fingers loosely open against his brother's side.
They had on matching blue onesies the staff had brought in within the hour, and small soft caps over their heads.
Tubes ran from their noses to the small machines humming beside them.
Instead of swimming in my anxiety over the war or if Kenji and everyone were safe, I watched the twins breathe. Each rise of their chests was so small it barely moved the blanket. Each fall almost stopped my own breath.
They were so new.
So fresh from somewhere I could not name.
So unaware of what they had already lost and what they had already been given.
Their mother was dead.
Their father did not yet know they were his.
And somehow they had ended up in front of me, two perfect lives on a soft white blanket, and I had not yet figured out what to do with the love I already felt for them.
One of the twins stirred.
His small face wrinkled. His mouth opened. A thin sound began at the back of his throat, climbing toward a real cry.
Aww. Not you starting again.
I slid my hand through the small porthole on the side of the incubator. The opening had a soft sleeve that gave around my wrist. The air inside was warmer than the air outside. I rested my fingertips against the side of his tiny body.
The cry stopped before it left him.
He sighed once. His mouth closed. His little brow smoothed.
I told you that I’ve got you. Relax.
I held my hand still.
The other twin shifted, turned his head a fraction toward my fingers, and went quiet too.
Look at you. I see you noticing my hand is in here. You’re so much like your father. So aware even in slumber.
I exhaled.
Both twins had Hiro's face. The shape of his eyes. That small straight nose. The set of the mouth that even in sleep already looked like it was about to say something it shouldn't.
Thank God they look like Hiro. It might have made me feel guilty if they looked like Kiko.
I gave them a sad smile.
Chuckling at whatever new thing Deja had said, the doctor headed over to the incubator. "And now for my tiny patients."
I looked up and pulled my hand out of the incubator. "Are there a lot of injured coming in?"
"Oh yes. The battle has definitely begun." The doctor's smile thinned. "We have set up overflow. Every bed is full. The Red People are opening up areas above to get us more space."
“The Red People?”
“Oh, yes.” She picked up the chart on the incubator’s side and browsed the earlier nurse’s notes. “We don’t really know what to call them. They won’t give us their names and they all wear red with hoods.”
I smiled. “Got it.”
I’m so glad the Silent Ones are helping.
"There’s a lot going on. Gunshot wounds. Blade wounds. Burns. Broken bones. One man came in with shrapnel in his back that the surgeon said should have killed him three times over, but one of the Red People helped with that. And. . .somehow he became better."
My stomach tightened. “Perfect.”
"Still. . .men and women in red hoods continue to carry in more wounded.”
“Any. . .Fangs or Claws?”
“Oh dear.” She shook her head. “I think the whole hospital would go into chaos if any of the top people were injured. You would hear the cries and screams from in here.”
“Okay.” Still, no relief came.
The doctor slid her hands through the incubator’s porthole.
I turned to the guards along the wall. "Any news since the Fox's plane landed?"
The closest one shook his head. "Not yet, Tora."
"Okay."
Hopefully, no news was good news.
It took everything in me not to go over to where they were fighting and find out for myself. The announcement of the Fox being on this island had happened a good thirty minutes ago. Surely there was more news.
I should fucking be there.
But I knew if Kenji or Hiro saw me anywhere near that battlefield, they would lose their fucking minds.
They would stop fighting.
They would stop thinking.
They would come for me, and the war would still be unfinished, and more men would die because I could not sit still in a basement and trust the men I loved to do what they had spent their entire lives training to do.
So I stayed and watched the doctor lay out materials on the rolling table beside the incubator—a small bottle, a square of gauze, a needle so thin it disappeared against the light. “Are the twins okay?”
“Yes. Surprisingly so.” The doctor uncapped a small white plastic device with a hidden needle inside.
"Right now I’m checking bilirubin again, blood glucose, and another newborn screening sample.
Their hematocrit looked good earlier, so I'm hoping these little gentlemen continue to cooperate so I can help the other doctors. "
“Okay.”
“They’re so sweet.” She reached into the incubator through the porthole and gently gathered the smaller twin's foot into her gloved hand.
His heel looked impossibly small.