Jolene shuffled behind the officer as the cold steel of the handcuffs bit into her wrists. The hallway smelled of bleach and stale coffee, every step echoing against the lifeless concrete walls. She kept her head low, her jaw clenched tight to keep herself from saying something reckless, something she knew wouldn't help. No point in making this worse.
But her heart pounded. Takeshi was dead. And they thought she did it.
The cuffs rattled as she moved, her wrists rubbing raw. The officer escorting her gave her an impatient tug when she slowed, but Jolene didn't react. She refused to give these bastards the satisfaction.
"Here we are," the officer muttered as they reached the booking desk.
The fluorescent light overhead buzzed with an irritating hum as Jolene stood in front of the officer behind the desk, a heavy-set man with a patchy beard. He glanced up at her with the same disinterested look everyone else in this place seemed to have.
"Name?" he asked, barely looking at her as he tapped keys on the computer.
Jolene stayed silent.
The officer escorting her gave her a rough nudge. "Answer him, Kujo."
Jolene exhaled sharply through her nose. "Jolene Kujo."
The booking officer tapped away at the keyboard. "Charges: suspected homicide, resisting arrest, public misconduct." He looked her over with thinly veiled disdain. "Busy night, huh?"
She shot him a glare. "You've got the wrong person."
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, waving her off. "They all say that."
The officer standing beside her pulled out a clipboard and began reading the official report aloud. "Suspect was found at the scene with visible injuries and blood matching the victim—Takeshi Arashi—on her clothing and body. No other witnesses present. Cause of death believed to be multiple stab wounds inflicted with a bladed weapon."
Jolene stiffened at the sound of Takeshi's name. Hearing it out loud felt like a punch to the gut.
The booking officer raised a brow. "Where's the murder weapon?"
"Still missing," the escorting officer replied. "She probably ditched it before we arrived."
Jolene scoffed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "I didn't kill him. Why would I kill Takeshi? Use your brains for two seconds."
The officers exchanged skeptical glances, clearly unimpressed.
"Look," Jolene continued, struggling to keep her voice calm, "Takeshi was my friend. We were fighting together—"
"Against what, exactly?" the booking officer interrupted, smirking. "The Voidspawn? That's what you Soulbound types like to claim, right?"
Her nails dug into her palms. These people had no idea what they were talking about. They didn't care.
"Save it," the escorting officer said with a dismissive sneer. "You were found alone with a dead man, and all you've got is a story about invisible monsters."
Jolene gritted her teeth, forcing herself to remain silent. Fighting them wasn't going to change anything—not here, not now. She needed to be smart.
"Let's get her printed," the booking officer said with a sigh, motioning toward the fingerprint station.
They marched her over to the machine, the officer grabbing her hand roughly and pressing her fingers against the scanner one by one. Jolene winced as the pressure aggravated her bruised knuckles.
As the machine beeped and recorded her prints, she glared at the officer. "You're wasting your time."
He snorted. "Yeah? We'll see about that."
Once the fingerprints were done, they photographed her—three shots from different angles. Jolene stood stiffly, her expression unreadable as the camera flashed in her face. She wanted to punch something, but she kept her hands at her sides, fists clenched tightly.
"You've got a real attitude problem, Kujo," the booking officer muttered as he reviewed the photos. "Let's hope that doesn't make things worse for you."
Jolene rolled her eyes. "You guys are already doing your worst. What's a little attitude on top of that?"
The officer chuckled dryly. "Good luck keeping that mouth of yours shut when you're in holding."
Her stomach twisted, but she didn't let it show. She'd been through worse than this.
"Let's move," the escorting officer said, grabbing her arm and leading her toward the holding cells.
They passed more officers on the way—some glanced at her with mild curiosity, others didn't care at all. Just another inmate. Another body in the system.
As they approached the cell block, the officer opened a heavy metal door with a loud creak. Jolene's muscles tensed as she was led inside.
"Here's your new room," he said with a smirk, unlocking one of the cells. "Hope you like it."
He shoved her inside without ceremony, and the door clanged shut behind her, the sound reverberating through the narrow hallway.
Jolene stood still, staring at the cold, bare walls of the cell. A narrow metal bed bolted to the wall, a stained toilet in the corner, and a flickering light overhead were all the luxuries she'd been granted.
The officer tapped on the bars with his baton. "You'll be in here until we sort out the paperwork. Maybe longer, depending on what the prosecutor decides."
She glared at him through the bars. "You're making a mistake."
"Yeah, I'm sure you'll tell that to the judge too," he said with a shrug. "Nighty night, Kujo."
The officer walked away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor until they faded into silence.
Jolene sat down on the edge of the metal bed, her body aching with every movement. She pressed her palms against her eyes, trying to block out the dull hum of the overhead light.
Takeshi was gone.
Kazane had done this. She was the one responsible—but here Jolene sat, locked in a cell, accused of murdering the only friend she had left.
Her chest tightened, and she fought the rising urge to scream. She had to stay calm. She had to think.
But all she could feel was the crushing weight of guilt and rage pressing down on her, suffocating her like a heavy blanket.
Time dragged on, every second stretching into an eternity. Jolene lay back on the bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. She replayed the fight over and over in her mind, searching for anything she could've done differently. Anything that might've saved Takeshi.
The door at the far end of the cell block creaked open again, and two officers entered, murmuring quietly. Jolene sat up, her pulse quickening.
"Kujo," one of them called out. "Visitor."
Her heart skipped a beat. A visitor?
They unlocked the cell door, motioning for her to follow. Jolene rose slowly, her mind racing. It couldn't be Kazane—no, that would be too reckless. But who else would come for her now?
The officers escorted her to a small, windowless room with a metal table and two chairs. One officer stood guard at the door while the other nodded toward the chair.
"Sit. Visitor will be here in a minute."
Jolene sat down, her heart pounding against her ribcage. The cuffs still bit into her wrists, but she barely noticed.
The door opened, and a figure stepped inside.
It wasn't who she expected.
A man in a dark suit, his face sharp and unreadable, closed the door behind him. He adjusted his tie, then sat across from her, folding his hands neatly on the table.
"Jolene Kujo," he said, his voice smooth and deliberate.
"Who the hell are you?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
The man smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Someone with an interest in your future."
Her gut twisted with unease. "I don't need a lawyer, if that's what this is about."
"That's not what this is about." The man leaned forward slightly, his gaze piercing. "We both know you didn't kill Takeshi Arashi. But proving it... that's going to take some work."
Jolene clenched her fists. "What do you want from me?"
The man's smile widened just enough to be unsettling. "I'm here to offer you a choice."
A cold knot of dread coiled in her stomach. "What kind of choice?"
The man's eyes gleamed. "The kind that could change everything."
Jolene sat perfectly still, her mind racing. She didn't trust him—not for a second. But if this was her only shot at getting out of here...
"Fine," she said quietly, her voice sharp as steel. "What's the deal?"
The man leaned back, a satisfied expression spreading across his face. "Let's just say... I have an interest in who wins this war."
Jolene's pulse quickened. Whoever this man was, he wasn't here by accident. And if she played this right, maybe—just maybe—she could find a way to win.