Shoko’s arms and legs were helter-skelter, like a broken doll. Naiki was on top of her, smothering her. He lifted the sheer negligee and pulled her underwear down with a finger as unclean as a rotten penis.
“Whoa, Yoriko. Nobody called you in here. If you want company, I’ll stop by afterwards.”
Naiki looked annoyed, as if a fly had buzzed into the room. Not even distantly ashamed.
“What are you doing . . . You’re her father . . .”
Her voice trembled. She had never felt so emotionally reactive, not fighting someone coming at her with a knife, not being clubbed down by a group of thugs.
She had never felt this way inside.
“She’s my daughter. I have the right to fuck her as I please. Gotta get my fill before I send her over to that pervert’s house, or I’ll regret it. It’s your fault we had to speed—aw, fuck, just go, alright, get outta here. You’ve got your orders. Go catch that subeta3 alive. That way she can watch Shoko’s—”
Naiki’s voice stopped making sound.
His throat, or respiratory tract, had been lanced by a ballpoint pen—black.
Modderfugger!
He looked confused, unable to make sense of what had happened. Shindo hit him with a jump kick that knocked him on his back. He made a gurgling sound like a tea kettle boiling over.
Gobobebego, gaboh
Blood seethed through his plaquey teeth. Bile darkened his complexion. Then in one furious tug, Naiki pulled the pen out of his neck.
Blah, gorh, gizmah
Moving at a speed that was surprising for his size, Naiki shot up and lunged for her. Shindo dodged, but Naiki caught her left bicep. His fingers closed around her upper arm with gruesome strength, tightening like a vise.
“Let go, you scumbag!”
With her free hand, Shindo grabbed another ballpoint pen and drove it into Naiki’s left arm. His reaction was so fierce the pens spilled from her pockets.
Ugh
The giant recoiled, but he still had her left arm. Her muscles tore; she heard the bone creak. Then it broke.
Fuck
The weight difference was too much to shake him off. Wincing at the pain, Shindo kicked him in the balls. He wheezed, loosening his grip, only to clamp his bloody teeth around the base of her left thumb.
She screamed at the infernal pain. It was eating her alive. She kicked him in the balls again, punched at his spongy gut. No use. Naiki would not let up.
She felt the dizzying sensation of teeth grinding through her skin.
“Get off!”
When she punched him in the face, his teeth bit down and made it through her tendon. Shindo beat his stomach. No reaction.
But then she passed a threshold and lost contact with the pain.
It was just a thumb. She had another one. Take him down, or it was over.
Shindo drove her right thumb into Naiki’s left eyeball. The texture was much denser than she would have thought. The globe moved underneath her fingernail.
Gaah
Crying out, Naiki loosened his jaw. Blood dripped from his left eye like tears. He tumbled toward her. Shindo did a backstep, staying clear. Stab his throat? Batter his skull? Another kick? Her legs were doing much better than her arms. Shindo was winding up to kick him when a black branch sprouted from his ribcage.
Naiki shuddered to a halt and collapsed on the tatami.
The black branch in his stomach was an arrow.
Turning around, Shindo saw Shoko, half naked with her bow in hand.
“Princess . . .”
She was like a statue of a legend, long hair draped across her naked chest, longbow sturdy in her grip, eyes fixed on Naiki, on her father, in a quiet gaze, studying her target.
“Shoko!”
Shindo’s voice brought Shoko back into the moment. Her hand released the bow.
“Oh . . . Father . . .”
She looked back and forth from Shindo to Naiki, who was smeared with blood and panting on the floor. Her face was dazed, like someone in a dream, unable to believe her eyes.
No time for thinking. Shindo grabbed her hand.
