Page 51 of Emperor of Havoc

Shit.

“Just say the word,” Ryu cuts in, “and I’ll have our full forces at that fucker’s front door. We'll burn his house to the ground.”

“Not yet,” Papa mutters. “I don’t want us to be seen as reactionary. They haven’t claimed responsibility, which means they wanted this done quietly.”

It wasn’t them, I scream inside my head.Please don’t start a war because of me.

“We’ll say for now that it was a tainted bottle of sake. Then wait and see if that bastard does or says anything.”

“Consider it done, Kolya-san,” Ryu grunts.

I hear retreating footsteps, and a door shutting. I blink my eyes again, and again. Finally, they flutter open.

“Thereyou are,” Nina smiles as she leans down over me.

I’m in my room at Papa’s house. My lips unthaw just enough to smile a little up at my friend. Then Papa bends in from the other side, a soft smile on his lips.

“Koshka,” he murmurs quietly, his eyes darting over my face. He reaches up and pushes some of my hair out of my eyes. I want to reach out and squeeze his hand. But I still can’t move anything except my eyelids and my lips.

I glance down at myself as best I can, given that my neck still isn't working. I’m dressed in a cotton pajama set—the kind with a button-up top like a man's dress shirt. I wish I could smile, because I’m suddenly remembering the way I gravitated to these types of pajamas to snuggle up in when I was sick as a kid.

“Can you move your hands?” Nina asks.

I blink a few times.

“How about we try two times for no, three for yes.”

I blink twice.

“Is the chart still around?”

I groan inside.

“The chart”. I fucking hated that thing when I was child, before I’d learned to sign, right after the events that stole my voice. My right hand was broken anyway after the accident, so I couldn’t write either.

"The chart" is a grid of letters usually used with quadriplegics to facilitate communication. Someone points to a letter, and the nonverbal person nods or makes some other sign when they get to the right one. Rinse, repeat. Eventually, you have a sentence.

It takes for fucking ever. It washellwhen I had to use it.

“I don’t think so,” Nina sighs. “Hang on, I’ll draw one.”

Goddammit.

Sure enough, she grabs a pen and paper and makes a grid of the twenty-six letters.

“Are you in pain?” Papa murmurs.

Nina points to the Y. I remain still. She points to the N, and I blink.

They both exhale.

“Thank God. Dr. Kim came right away,” Papa says. “You should be okay, but you were dosed with a decent amount of tetrodotoxin. It paralyzed your body, but it will wear off soon, probably by later tonight.”

I groan internally. Wonderful. I’m stuck motionless for the next few hours.

I grit my teeth, willing my muscles to react. All I manage is a slight nod of my head.

“Oh, great!” Nina says cheerfully when she spots the motion. “It’s wearing off already!”

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