He stared at Ryoma, blood spreading across his eyes, as if he were seeing for the first time the monster he himself had raised.
"Ryoma! Do you know what you are doing? I am your father, you animal." He roared in fear and wrath.
"I am sorry. I am sorry, Father." Ryoma shook his head nonstop, blood seeping from beneath the bandages. "This is what you taught me. This is what you taught me."
What?
Confusion and shock flashed across Elder Riwugo's face. What did I teach you. When did I ever teach you to kill your father.
At that moment, Iroha Hyuga, who had been watching coldly like he was enjoying a play, suddenly burst into mocking laughter. The sound echoed in the sealed, bloody cell, sharp and mad, and it filled Elder Riwugo with dread.
"Old thing, do you still not understand, Riwugo?" Iroha Hyuga stopped laughing and looked at Elder Riwugo with open delight. "To him now, you are not a father. You are a weak person with no hands and no power."
"Draw the blade against someone weaker."
He spoke each word clearly, his hatred cutting sharp. "This is the only rule for survival that you drilled into his bones, again and again."
He laughed loudly again, and Elder Riwugo's face turned completely pale.
"You…" Elder Riwugo did not finish his words before a hand clamped around his throat.
"Father, Father, I will avenge you." Ryoma muttered as he climbed onto him, completely unhinged. His knee pressed hard into Elder Riwugo's stomach, and one hand crushed his throat, pinning him down in the sticky pool of blood like an animal being held for slaughter.
In Elder Riwugo's bulging eyes, swollen with fear and rage, was the twisted reflection of Ryoma. It was a face covered in blood and madness, ugly like an evil spirit.
Ryoma raised the blood-dripping Kunai high and stabbed down hard. The dull sound of steel entering flesh rang out, and a broken sound came from Elder Riwugo's throat.
Once was not enough. Again and again.
Blood sprayed wildly, splashing over Ryoma's face and body until he was completely dyed into a blood-soaked monster.
He seemed tireless, unaware as the struggling beneath him grew weaker. He only repeated the motion of stabbing and pulling out, as if pouring all his fear and twisted will to live through the Kunai.
At last, Elder Riwugo's tense body went slack, all life draining away. The eyes that once held authority and arrogance now showed only endless fear and a trace of deep regret frozen inside.
The blood-covered Kunai slipped from Ryoma's shaking hand and fell into the pool of blood with a clear sound.
Ryoma gasped for air, then suddenly raised his head. "Is it enough?"
He turned his terrifying, blood-smeared face toward where he remembered Iroha Hyuga standing. His voice was hoarse as he spoke. "Is this enough? I did exactly what you said."
After a moment of tense waiting, an answer came. "Of course."
Iroha Hyuga's voice carried an obvious smile. "I keep my word. I will not attack you."
"You can leave now."
The voice came from a different direction than where Ryoma remembered Iroha Hyuga standing before. Lost in his joy, Ryoma did not notice the difference.
He burst into a fit of meaningless, crazed laughter, scrambling away from the still warm corpse with both hands and feet. Without caring about anything else, he rushed toward the direction of the iron door he remembered. His hands groped along the cold, rough wall, searching for the outline of the door and the narrow gap that meant a way out.
Just as his fingers finally touched the icy iron door and his joy reached its peak, a sharp and familiar sound of metal grinding and collision suddenly rang out behind him. It came fast and loud, shattering the brief hope he had grasped. The sound echoed in the cramped space like a warning.
Ryoma froze in place, the wild joy on his face stiffening as a question flashed through his mind. What was that sound? Before he could turn around, the answer came.
A piercing whistle cut through the air, followed by a heavy crack. A whip shadow filled with force and hatred tore through the space and slammed hard into Ryoma's unguarded back.
He screamed as if his back had been struck by a red hot branding iron, skin splitting as pain flooded his entire body in an instant. His legs gave out, and he dropped to his knees with a heavy thud, curling up as his body shook uncontrollably. The pain robbed him of all strength.
Something scraped along the ground, accompanied by steady footsteps drawing closer. The sound was slow and deliberate, pressing down on his nerves. Ryoma screamed in terror, his voice breaking as he shouted, "No, no. You swore on the name of Ryoma. You said you would not touch me. You said you would let me go."
"Yes."
The reply came with a cruel smile hidden in a cold voice. It was extremely familiar, yet it was definitely not Iroha Hyuga. The tone carried no warmth at all.
"Iroha Hyuga did swear like that," the voice paused slightly, hatred surging through it. "But I never said I would let you go."
That voice, that voice was unmistakable. Ryoma's blood seemed to freeze as his mind went blank. He cried out in disbelief, "Takao Hyuga?"
Why was it him? He had been tortured to the brink of death already. How could he be standing here now?
Before he could process the fear fully, the shrill sound of air tearing rang out again. The whip that once belonged to Fugaku Uchiha was now in Takao Hyuga's hands, and it lashed down once more onto Ryoma's body.
This time, the strikes did not stop. The whip cracked again and again as Takao Hyuga's arm moved like it had gone mad. All the pent up wrath, pain, humiliation, and hatred poured into every strike.
The whip shadows blurred together, bringing sharp whistles as they fell like a storm onto Ryoma. He screamed until his voice broke, with nowhere to hide, curling on the ground as his body twitched and spasmed. Each strike brought fresh burning pain.
Soon, he no longer had the strength to scream. Only weak, hoarse whimpers and groans escaped his throat, like a dying beast clinging to its last breath. The sound grew fainter with every second.
With a loud snapping sound, the battered whip finally gave out and broke in half. One piece fell into the pool of blood on the ground. The beating came to an abrupt end.
Ryoma was no longer human in shape, just a mangled heap of flesh collapsed on the floor. His body twitched faintly without awareness, with almost no unbroken skin left. Blood seeped from countless wounds, dyeing him completely red.
Takao Hyuga panted heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tossed the remaining half of the whip aside. His voice was hoarse as he muttered, "Trash." It was unclear whether he meant the whip or the ruined body at his feet.
"Why… why…"
Ryoma's breathing was faint, his voice barely a thread, yet filled with hatred and unwillingness. He whispered that his eyes had already been dug out, and his father had already been killed. He could not understand why they still would not spare him.