Chapter 20
Sakura sits, her head aching, her mouth dry as she stares at the huddled boy.
It is day four.
They bring her back here every morning, shoving her past the bars leaving her scrambling for purchase on the dusty floor, inhaling dirt as she trips on her anger and fear.
The boy has not spoken to her once.
On the street they call her the slayer.
Slayer of what, Sakura does not know; but if it’s the slayer of the boy—it is not a title she wants.
Still, she is getting tired of them—the boy’s father, her keeper, her interrogator—becoming frustrated with her. They tell her to be assertive, to establish dominance—of what, Sakura does not know.
It is hot.
Sakura can feel the familiar itch of anger and rage—why won’t the monster boy talk to her? She is kaijin too—begin to unfold under her skin and she lifts her chin resolutely.
The boy doesn’t move from his huddle in the corner.
He watches her though—he always watches her—with those steady, raging green eyes and the calm mouth.
“If you don’t want to talk to me fine!” Sakura shouts suddenly and she can see it startles the boy. She has only ever been kind in her words—soft, simple utterings—but now she is angry.
She has been here for days, speaking slowly, softly—the most she’s ever spoken to anyone, even Obaba—and for every day he does not talk back, they take away more of her privileges.
Today is the day they took away her mandarins.
“Crazy boy.” She taunts, hoping he’ll rise to the bait. “Monster child. Bastard. Kaijin!”
“Kin-killer!” Sakura screams.
She finds out, in a hot rush of fear and anger, that the boy moves incredibly fast.