Kiyohito left the Hole with a name and number in his pocket. Once he was clear of the area, he made contact. Zixin implied that there was a job for him, and it was with a strange sense of calmness passed the time while the number rang. Finally, a voice answered. He didn’t recognize it; nor did he recognize the name.
They explained where he should meet and when, and the details of the job would be relayed in person.
He had several hours to kill until then.
Zixin Kao lingered a little too close at the bar after the conclusion of his business. He made Eido uncomfortable, which she presumed to be his rather ceaseless point. He said nothing to her, which she treated in kind, though for once the restraint flared at cost. But it was prudent to be cautious of powerful men, and she would rather be forgotten than give him a reason to remember the sport. While he was still engaged with Gus she walked away abruptly instead, headed back through the staff passageways. A little amused laughter and whispering followed her in the kitchens, but she didn’t pause to acknowledge it.
She locked the door to their small room behind her. Tidied away the cold remains of tea. Then she cared for the animal in its cage. But the rituals did not soothe. Shadows chased the corners around her; it was dark but not late, and the noise from downstairs would persist for hours yet. After a while she pulled on a jacket and climbed out the fire escape to sit on the metal stairs beyond.
The kaiken lay sheathed on her lap. She stared at it a long time in silence. The conflict inside unmoored her, not for the first time, and she pulled until a finger’s width of the blade slipped free. It was sharp as the day she should have used it on herself. She kept it that way.
She thought of Kōta’s blood-soaked arm. Of how many times he must have hidden injury from her, wishing to protect her from herself.
When she rose it was to close the window. She slipped down the creaky stairs, and disappeared into the night.