She wasn’t on her period. She’d been drugged. This was bad. Don’t fall asleep, she told herself, as her eyes shut and she fell into a deep sleep, losing consciousness.
SHE HAD A dream. White sky and blue ground stretched out to the horizon. She could hear a child crying. At first it sounded like a sad cry, but with time she realized they were yelling in a voice shaken by distress. A giant bird flew across the blue ground.
They were in their yard at home. Grampa had strung her upside down from the big tree. The white landscape and the blue sky had been flipped. If she stayed like this too long, her blood would pool inside her head, and she would die. If she wanted to survive, she had to use her stomach muscles to sit up and break the knot around her feet herself. No matter how she tried, her stomach wasn’t strong enough and she fell back, upside down and swinging. It was hard to breathe. Was she going to die? Would her own grampa let her die like this? She had to do it, had to push through. Otherwise, it was over. Hard to breathe. Breathe.
HER EYES OPENED. Facing the floor. The room was bright. Lights on above her.
There was something in her mouth. Soft and bunched up, like a wad of cloth. Her whole body was heavy, like her face and chest were sticking to the floor. She couldn’t move. Somebody’s hands were holding down her wrists and ankles. Forked spears pressed their cold metal into the bare skin of her torso and her legs. It was cold. Her lower half was cold. She realized that the thing inside her mouth was her own underwear.
“Come on, stick it in and get the shot.”
She could hear muffled voices. Hear them breathing. There were four . . . five . . . six. Six of them. It was amazing they could fit into a room this small. The smell of ripe sweat, not hers, theirs, clawed at her nose.
“Can’t get hard, this ass is gross.”
“Liar. You’re just scared.”
“How about you get her first, then?”
The men swapped shameful jabs, keeping their voices low.
“Hey, guys, maybe that’s enough, huh? Yanagi-aniki isn’t gonna like this.”
“Fuck Yanagi. He almost killed my dog because of her.”
She could hear Nishi behind her, through the mix. This was his doing. Things couldn’t be worse. She was in trouble. He was actually trying to fuck her, in spite of all the risks, as payback for her making him piss himself in front of everyone.
How was she going to fight back? Ordinarily, she would have thrown him off into a corner, but the drugs were strong and held her down. Sweat beaded at her temples. Don’t freak out. There’s no way you’re losing. Not to punks like them. Yoriko Shindo never loses. She made fists, or she tried to. Nothing. Shit. What now?
“What are you doing?” asked a shrill voice from the hall.
Thwack. Someone threw open the fusuma.
“What are you doing!”
They were screaming. It was Shoko.
“Ah, oh, Miss Shoko, we were just—”
The men on top of her, behind her, panicked. Tripping over one another, they scrambled to their feet. She heard a few of them zip up their pants.
“Do you have any idea what you have done?”
Watch out, stay back, she tried to say, but the underwear was jammed between her teeth. Six men. Six of them. Shoko stood no chance. Run away. Fast.
“You’ve got it wrong, I mean, she asked us to.”
“Let’s go see Father. You can tell him the same thing you just told me.”
Run away, don’t push them, princess, get away.
Shindo’s attempts to speak went nowhere. She couldn’t even lift her head.
“Easy now, Miss Shoko, we can explain,” one of the guys said, trying to sweeten up to her. “This is about grownup men and women—”
Shoko’s screaming voice tore through the air.
“Get out!”
Her hand rattled the fusuma. Like someone scaring off a dog.
“Out! All of you. This instant!”
The men left the room, giggling, as if the whole thing were some kind of prank.
“What’s going on? What happened? Come on, get up.”
As Shoko stepped into the room, Shindo finally spat out the underwear. It was the most that she could do.
“Sleeping pills . . . or pain . . . killers.”
Flat on her stomach, Shindo did her best to turn her head toward the princess. She was livid, shaking visibly, wearing only a pink negligee.
“Unbelievable. How could they?”
Shoko sat down on the tatami and used a floor cushion to cover Shindo’s naked hips.
“You saved . . . me. Thank you . . . so much.”
