The Last Story
Chapter twenty-four
Nyomi
Deja still hadn't returned. I needed news. Every passing minute pulled my nerves tighter.
About Rin.
About Kenji.
About the war that was deciding who would still have a heartbeat by dawn.
The visions stopped. I wasn’t sure how that had happened. I almost feared that it had been a temporary thing. Or perhaps, I’d used it so much that. . .it needed to charge up. Either way, there was peace in being able to look at people again and not see their private memories.
Yet, waiting was its own kind of torture. It sat in my jaw. It sat in the meat of my hands. It sat behind my eyes. It was a slow burning hot iron pressed against the skin, searing, unbearable, and impossible to escape.
Time stretched and twisted, bringing more uncertainty, worry, and fear.
Every second felt like an eternity—a never-ending cycle of agony and anticipation.
To not go stir-crazy, I gave two of my men strict orders to guard the twins. Then I drifted from room to room through the Bamboo Garden building, searching for any way I could help the medical teams.
The children's room needed me the most.
Fear had settled over the children. They didn't understand the battle, mafia politics, or the scent of blood in the air. They only knew that their fathers had gone to war, and no one could promise they were coming back.
So. . .I entertained them.
God, I hope this is helping.
The children's book had cardboard corners and a rabbit on the cover with a lantern in his paw.
I held it open across my knees, and the children pressed in close around me, looking at the pictures and listening as I read to them in Japanese.
Zo snored in the bed on my right. If he woke up now and saw this, he might pass back out in shock.
My mouth easily found the sounds even though I had no knowledge of the language beforehand. My NY accent was still in there. I could hear it living underneath the vowels, softening the words and giving them a little bounce that didn't belong.
Still, the words came out clean.
The kanji made sense on the page. Every character was a small door, and I walked through each one like I'd been walking through them my whole life.
A little girl with a bandage around her wrist had her hand on my knee.
Another one, no more than five, leaned her whole weight against my hip and breathed with her mouth open.
A boy in the bed nearest to me lay on his side so he could see the pictures. He had an IV line taped to the back of his hand.
There were now thirty beds in this makeshift hospital ward, and all of them were filled.
Some injured adults lay on mattresses on the floor.
Three nurses in blue moved through the space.
Two exhausted doctors did their best to treat everyone.
They were overworked and understaffed, and I wished I could do more for them than sit there and entertain the kids while the war drummed around us.
I turned the page. “And the rabbit found the lit lantern.”
The kids cheered. Several of the injured parents clapped.
The little girl next to me tapped my knee. “Again please.”
Other kids bobbed their heads.
I raised my eyebrows. “Are you sure? This would be the third time.”
One boy begged. “Please. So good.”
I chuckled. “Alright. Let’s see if the rabbit still finds the lantern on this third read.”
Several of the kids chuckled.
The nurse closest to me smiled. “Everyone say thank you, Tiger.”
The kids gave me half-bows. “Thank you, Mrs. Tiger!”
A phone rang at the nurses' station.
I turned the page. "Long ago, on the far side of the moon, there lived a small white rabbit."
The little girl gave me the biggest smile.
"Every night, the rabbit lit a paper lantern and hung it high in the sky. The light of that lantern was what people on earth called the moon."
"The moon!" a boy called out from the bed to my left. He was too pleased with himself.
A second phone rang at a different desk with a higher pitch.
A young nurse in blue crossed the room in three quick steps, picked up the receiver, listened, and set it back in its cradle with two fingers. She smoothed her palm down the front of her scrubs, turned her face toward the double doors, and held it there for one full second before she moved.
"It was the rabbit's job." I turned the page and showed the kids the pictures, "and he loved his job, because his light helped fishermen find their boats, and travelers find their roads, and children find their way home before bedtime."
The double doors at the far end of the ward swung open.
Two men I had never seen walked in carrying a folded cot between them.
Two more men followed in with more cots. They all had black suits on with black gloves. They lined the cots against the wall in a neat row and stood shoulder to shoulder with their hands folded at their belts, waiting.
What the hell is going on?
I kept reading. "One night, the wind came up strong. The paper lantern shivered."
The kids leaned forward. They knew what came next.
"Then, the paper lantern blew out."
A small gasp rose from three beds at once. The little girl at my knee pressed her hand flat to the blanket the way she always did when the lantern went dark.
A doctor at the far end took a call. He listened with his head bent. He wrote one line on the chart at the foot of the bed, capped his pen, and slid it into his breast pocket.
"The rabbit was very sad."
The doctor walked to the mother in the chair beside the bed and crouched to her level. He put a hand on her wrist and spoke three sentences.
She gasped, quickly nodded, and stood.
Huh?
The two men in black lifted her son onto a cot and wheeled him out.
I flipped the page. "Without his lantern, the fishermen would be lost at sea.”
Then, several more men in black suits entered with cots.
“And the travelers would be lost in the mountains.”
The new men began helping other injured out of their beds and placing them onto the cots.
Is the war over?
I cleared my throat. “And the children would be afraid of the dark."
The little girl at my knee tapped the back of my hand. "I’m scared of the dark."
My throat went dry. “Sometimes I am too.”
Three kids in front widened their eyes in shock.
Another phone rang, but this time it was one of the mothers. Then a fourth phone rang. Then a fifth from somewhere behind me.
And a sixth.
My hand tightened on the spine of the book.
What the fuck is going on?
The senior nurse—the one with silver at her temples—clapped her hands once, and every other nurse in the room turned toward her at the same instant. She pointed at three beds in sequence, and the other nurses peeled off toward them.
And then even more men entered as the earlier men pushed injured away.
They’re clearing the room. Why?
On the right, a doctor pointed at the IV pole beside me and made a lifting motion with her fingers, and the nurse closest untangled the line with her teeth in her lower lip and freed the bag in six seconds flat.
"So the rabbit climbed down from the moon on a long silver rope."
The nurse walked to the grandfather slumped against the wall by his daughter's bed. She touched his elbow and then spoke into his ear.
His head came up slowly. He looked at his granddaughter. Tears left his eyes. He wiped his face with the flat of his hand and quickly stood.
“And the rabbit set his small paws on the earth, and he began to look for a spark to light his lantern again."
My pulse tapped against the side of my neck.
Two more beds emptied on my left.
Three on my right.
The murmurs thinned along with the soft weeping.
The wheels of the cots clicked against the tile and the click got louder as the room hollowed out around them.
The men in black moved to the children's beds now.
They started at the far end. Two men to a bed.
Their gloved hands slid under the small backs the way you would lift a sleeping cat.
They tucked blankets around the little ones.
They placed stuffed animals into the crooks of small arms. They wheeled the children through the double doors one after the other, and the doors swung closed behind each one with a soft heavy sound like a book falling shut.
I stopped reading and looked up at my guard.
He finished listening on the phone and then put it up.
I gestured for him to come over. “What’s going on?”
"The war is over. The Dragon was victorious."
My heartbeat picked up as my breath rushed out of me. I had to touch my chest to calm it. “Oh my God. Seriously?”
“Yes. And now the Dragon wants this room empty so he can talk to you."
I blinked twice. "What? They’re moving all these babies just so he can talk to me?"
“Yes.”
“I can just come to him—”
“The Dragon gave the order—”
“Since the war is over, please make sure the injured are at least being transported to hospitals in Tokyo. Talk to the Roar’s assistant, Ali, about it and say I said so.”
“I will do that now, Tora.”
“Thank you.” Relief hit my shoulders.
The guard pulled out his phone and left.
The corner of the page bent under my thumb. I forced my thumb to relax, and it curled right back.
A nurse came to get the little girl next to me. “We must go.”
The little girl frowned. “But the story isn’t done.”
“Don’t worry.” I handed the book to her. “This is yours.”
She gasped, took it, and hugged the book to her chest. “Thank you, Mrs. Tiger.”
“You’re welcome.”
Two men in black came for Zo's bed. They lifted him carefully. He rolled onto his side, muttered something about a sandwich, and kept snoring. The men wheeled him out at the same speed as everyone else.
More and more people left.
The last of the mothers walked past me and waved. “Thank you, Tiger.”
I nodded.
The room continued to empty. The medical staff. The injured. The mothers. The grandparents. Even my guards.
Soon, I was alone.
Why would he empty this room to talk to me? Why not just have me come to him? What’s going on?
And then suddenly. . .this uncomfortable pressure rose within my chest.
I blinked. It felt like someone had set their palm flat against my chest, but from the inside. And then I just knew that meant. . .Kenji was in the building.
I can feel him. We’re bonded?
A cold shiver ran through me.
I looked up and felt him getting closer.
The overhead lights buzzed.
Above me, a door in the building opened for him. Men bowed and separated. Then another door opened and another. I couldn’t see any of this happening, but I could absolutely feel it.
Holy shit. I don’t know if I will get used to this.
I rose from the chair.
I feel him without a doubt. Why didn’t I feel him before? Does he need to be at a certain distance?
His hot presence spilled into my chest, and my body answered. My nipples went hard against the inside of my shirt so fast it stung. I went so wet my thighs slicked, and my heart began to ache.
I was aroused, and he was too. We were both eager to be in each other’s space.
Baby. . .
But then, under all the hot wave of yearning. . .intense rage rose too.
What?
I tensed.
He’s. . .fucking angry. Really. . .really. . .angry. . .
So furious that it was no longer just in my body. His fury rained down from the ceiling and filled the space.
I stepped back, trying not to drown in it.
He won. Why is he so mad? Was someone hurt? Or did they not win the way they wanted or. . .
The answer came to me easily, and then I knew. . .that. . .the rage was for me.
What?
Terror rocked me down to my soul.
Why the fuck is he mad at me?