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They fell into a loud silence, filled with white noise, the distant honking of cars, and the occasional siren. It was unthinkable, how someone else could be in a life or death situation while they stood there breathing the same air, completely at ease.

"What do they call you?"

He thought it over. She wasn't asking for his name. "Ni-ki," he said. "You?"

"Iya."

"That's a horrible nickname."

She let out a laugh at his frankness.

"Sorry," Ni-ki murmured. "In Japanese, it means unpleasant. Quite literally, horrible. What's your real name?"

"Don't ask." Iya smiled. "Just know me as that. The unpleasant girl with a horrible nickname."

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