She reached for the ankle restraints, unclicked them herself, and swung her dead weight back into her wheelchair. For the first time, she didn’t look at the chair as a cage.
“No,” he said softly. “I want you to strap yourself.” Nagase Mami - Wheelchair-bound Young NGOD-220 -...
“What’s the catch?” she rasped.
Then, the floor dropped.
Mami’s throat tightened. “You want to strap me to a bed?” She reached for the ankle restraints, unclicked them
The afternoon light slanted through the tall windows of the Yamagata Prefectural Rehabilitation Center, catching the dust motes in lazy spirals. Nagase Mami watched them from her usual spot by the window, her hands resting motionless on the black rims of her wheelchair. At twenty-two, she had been here for eight months. The accident—a fall from a climbing wall, a snapped spinal chord—felt both like yesterday and a lifetime ago. “I want you to strap yourself
The threat was cold, clinical. Her family, already strained by her medical bills, had no idea. The social worker, Tanaka-san, had simply shrugged. “Hoshino-san’s group is… unconventional. But they have government ties. I can’t stop it.”