A few hours later
"Man… I really wanted to win," Ryu muttered.
He lay flat on the ground, staring up at the ceiling with his one good eye. The left was swollen shut, the skin around it dark and bruised, the white of his eye stained red. His body wasn't any better—bruises layered over bruises, pain carved into every inch of him.
Slowly, he lifted his arm and held his right hand above his face. His knuckles were split and bleeding, trembling uncontrollably
Never in his life had he taken a beating like this.
Not when his parents' families discovered what he had done.
Not from the police.
Not even back when he was getting bullied at school.
"Then why… am I happy?" he asked himself.
Had he become some adrenaline-addicted idiot?
Ryu couldn't find an answer.
He forced himself to stand, and pain exploded through every inch of his body. His face twisted as he lowered his gaze to the floor.
They were gone.
All of them—dragging their fallen comrades away with them.
The foamy mats were torn apart once more.
The walls were stained with dried blood.
So was the ground beneath the ruined gym mats.
Silence reclaimed the gym.
He took a single step, and his legs immediately gave out.
He should've fallen—but someone caught him.
He lifted his head slightly and saw Yang.
Yang was in a better condition than him. His left eye was swollen and red, a deep gash split his eyebrow, his lips were bleeding, and blood ran from his nose. His right hand was covered in countless cuts from gripping the tile too tightly.
Speaking of the tile—it was now lodged in his left shoulder.
"Easy," Yang said, guiding him back until his spine rested against the wall.
Yang did the same.
"Pfft."
Ryu let out a short laugh, making Yang turn toward him, confused.
"What?"
Ryu shook his head. "Nothing. It's just… funny. We've been fighting for our lives for hours now, and not a single guard has interfered."
"Wish I had an answer for that." Yang scratched the back of his head, then hesitated. "By the way… I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For dragging you into this. I don't even know what came over me."
"It's all good."
Ryu gave Yang a light punch on the shoulder - the one that didnt have the tile in it -making him grimace in pain
"Yang… how did you end up in here?"
"I'll tell you—if you tell me."
"Fair enough."
Ryu smiled, then coughed twice.
"A few months ago… did you hear about the high schooler who killed his parents?"
"No—but let me guess. That was you, right?"
Ryu nodded slowly.
"well uhh...Some parents honestly deserve to get stabbed."
Ryu's eyes—even the swollen one—flew open in shock at the words.
"…No," he said after a moment. "Nothing they did would ever justify me taking their lives."
He hesitated, then added quietly, "Sorry."
...
"Then why did you kill them?"
Ryu lowered his gaze to the floor. Regret and sorrow clouded his eyes.
"I just felt trapped" he said. "After high school, it felt like I no longer had any control over my own life. My parents became even stricter—obsessive, almost. They were desperate for me to get into Tokyo University, to the point where I had no time left for myself.
It was nothing but studying, private lessons, prep courses, then more studying.
At school, it was no better. I was beaten regularly. One time, the bullies went so far as to force-feed me their own alcohol-filled vomit.
One day I couldn't take it anymore so I ordered a knife,meant for my bullies. But the moment it arrived… something inside me snapped."
He wrapped his arms around himself and started shaking uncontrollably
"T-The next thing I remember is standing in the living room soaked in blood… w..ith both my parents lying there, slashed to death...and m..my sister watching in horror"
"That's it?" Yang thought to himself.
He didn't really have much to say about Ryu's story despite how utterly twisted it was.
Killed your own parents because you felt trapped?
I mean… come on.
Still, Yang wasn't any better.
Both of them were vile killers, just wearing different excuses.
"My turn now."
Yang slowly lowered himself until he lay flat on the floor, then began to speak.
He told him everything—how the yakuza ambushed his house, how he barely escaped, and how he managed to leave the building by taking the face of one of the yakuza and slipping out inside an ambulance.
Leaving out how he killed the doctor and the driver.
"They did that in The Silence of the Lambs, right?" Ryu asked.
"Yes" Yang replied.
"That movie was actually a big inspiration for my escape plan."
After all, the only entertainment Yang had while he was paralyzed was watching movies
"Well, the rest isn't really important. I was afraid of being caught, so I turned myself in."
What he didn't expect, though, was that he was still considered a minor.
Of course, Yang didn't say that part out loud.
*Attention all inmates. Lockdown protocol is now in effect. Return to your assigned cells immediately. Failure to comply will result in disciplinary action*
"Disciplinary action my ass," Yang muttered as he sighed and stood up.
He lowered his hand toward Ryu.
"C'mon. Let's take you to that witch."
Ryu smiled faintly and took his hand.
_____________
Half a year later.
Seven months until adult trial.
Ryu, having perfected his sambo, sat atop the bunker with his legs crossed, calmly reading a book.
"I never asked you this," he said. "Who wrote this book?"
Below him, Yang was on the floor doing push-ups. Sweat poured from his body splashing onto the ground like a waterfall.
"Why ask?" Yang replied between breaths.
"Just curious."
"Don't be."
"…ight."
Ryu lowered his body, resting back against the bunker, the book still open in his hands.
Yang exhaled as he stood up, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. His eyes drifted to Ryu whose face was coverd with the book
"Oi," Yang said, annoyed. "Don't stain it with your drool. I barely learned anything from it ."
Ryu clicked his tongue, grabbed the book, and hurled it at him.
Yang caught it instantly.
He frowned, then glanced down at the open page.
It illustrated a spinal lock technique.
The drawing showed a short fighter twisting a much larger opponent into position, the spine bent at an impossible angle. Beside it, a crude sound effect was scribbled in bold letters:
CRACK.
Yang's expression stiffened Before he could fully sort his thoughts, the door squeaked open.
A head cautiously peeked into the room.
It was the narrow-eyed guard.
Minowa Seiko.
"Hallooo, good moroning, boyos!" he greeted them with exaggerated cheer, both hands raised in the air.
Yang and Ryu stared back at him, visibly confused.
"…Hmm? No greeting?" Minowa tilted his head. "That's two stickers."
He walked over to the small board mounted on the wall and casually placed two bear stickers beneath Yang's and Ryu's names "Still no greeting? Another sti—"
Before he could finish his words, his eyes widened. The two teleported beside him and bent forward in a perfect ninety-degree bow.
"Good morning!" they exclaimed in unison.
"…How did—never mind." He patted both of them on the head. "Good boys."
Ryu bit his lip, while Yang's face twisted in open disgust as they straightened up.
Minowa tapped a finger against his chin.
"Yang, one sticker for smelling like shit."
Then he glanced at them again. "And one sticker for Ryu for being ugly."
He placed the sticker, scanned the room, and frowned slightly.
"Where's the big guy?"
"Taken to the hospital" Yang replied.
"Hm." Minowa shrugged. "Whatever. Two more stickers for you, then."
The clean record of the empty board was broken at last—by a sociopath.
Now ryu had three stickers and yang five
If yang got five more he'll be sent to solitary
Solitary confinement is what every inmate fears—whether in an adult prison or a reformatory.
It doesn't sound that bad at first, right?
Being alone for a week… maybe even a few months. You could recharge, live off the quietly away from those savages you were with So what's the problem?
On paper, it sounds like every loner and introvert's perfect dream.
If that's what you think, you're an idiot and should be euthanized
In solitary, you're forced to sit in the same position for hours—sometimes the entire day.
Even shifting your posture--just slightly can, be used as an excuse to extend your punishment.
If you want to use the toilet right beside you, you have to request permission.
And most of the time, that request is ignored.
If you're tired and think about taking a nap—too bad. You won't be sleeping at all if you want to get out quickly. No one will wake you up, even when you're supposed to be sitting, and that alone is enough to extend your time in solitary
Solitary wasn't a place where one could achieve inner peace—if anything, it was the exact opposite.
Yang watched the guard walk away.
That uncaring attitude…
His face, the greasy hair, the stale smell clinging to him—everything about the man filled Yang with revulsion