it’s swallowed my son, and it’s hurting him, and I have no idea how to get him out.”
She clutched her chest, her face flickering in the light. “I’m sorry. If this is the last message I can get into the game, please know I’m so sorry. And we’re doing everything we can to get you out.”
The image shut off, leaving only darkness and my memories.
The light flashed, then the too-loud man’s voice rang out over an image of a throne and my own face in a crown, light brightening. “And you, too, can win the crown!”
The light flickered again, and my world shuddered back into being. Ryo held me close to his chest, his dark eyes searching mine. His eyebrows shot up and he let out a relieved breath that sent my hair spinning back.
Then the side of his lips turned up. “Oof, you’re heavier than you look.”
Jerk. I shoved him with all my might and it felt great. I swung my fist into his stomach then fled back until I fell, my knees slamming against the ground where I’d dropped my sword.
I could kick him, stab him, kill him, but I couldn’t fight back against the truth.
The cold ground gave no comfort as I pulled my legs into my chest and let out a groan.
It shouldn’t hurt. Not if it’s not real.
Why do the things that aren’t real hurt the most to lose?
I caught my breath like it was a living thing and tucked it back into the dark tunnel of my heart. But I couldn’t stand. I could pretend to be Lady Tomlinson for the rest of my life, but I couldn’t put weight on my feet, and leave the safety of the floor.
Ryo knelt by my side, a circle of candlelight lighting his cheek. He hesitated then touched my arm.
I shouldn’t hate him as much as I did. But if Lady Tomlinson was still the girl who’d been bullied, then he must still be the jerk who’d joked at other people’s expense. I didn’t care that he was a player too.
I turned away. Last thing I needed right now was one of Ryo’s insults, or for him to try to sneak beneath my defenses.
He didn’t say anything about the dust on my sleeves, or the blood staining the hem of my dress. He listened to the sound of my lungs exhaling, his hand hesitant as he cupped the back of my neck, his fingers twisting through my hair.
“Whatever it is,” he said, “you won’t face it alone.”
In the dim light, I couldn’t tell if that was a line. It didn’t seem like one, not from his steady gaze.
It seemed real.
I pushed myself up to sitting and winced at my raw knees. Ms. Takagi wasn’t lying. I needed to be more careful. This game hurt.
He leaned closer and flicked my skirt up to reveal my gashed knee.
I protested.
“Hush now, Lady Tomlinson. We need to check for infection. Can’t have you slowing us down, now, can we? Besides, you already ripped my shirt off; it’s only fair I return the favor.”
I scowled and his lips lifted in a smile that didn’t touch his eyes.
His fingers whispered over my calf as he checked out my injury. They weren’t my real legs; my real legs would have had a soft bristle of hair and a pair of moles on my knee. The shadow of his touch sunk heavy in my stomach and sparked along my nerve endings.
I knew better than to let him affect me.
This wasn’t him. I’d met Ryo twice before this game started. Ms. Takagi’s spoiled son got to play as the main character, even though he never placed in the competition. He was so dismissive of us players, as though we were the ones who didn’t deserve to be here. His face was altered now—only hints of the real him left over. His deep brown eyes were the same, but now his eyebrows were thicker, his brow ridge pressed out like a mountain range. His jawline cut sharp, a false dip at the center of his chin. He looked like a photoshopped version of the Ryo I’d seen. There were similarities, sure, they were both tall, and strong, their arms like rolling hills of defined muscles, but the real Ryo had a delicate nose and pissed-off eyes. The real Ryo was quietly handsome. The real Ryo made me look twice, but I was not interested in this man who wore a different face like it was a Snapchat