A week later.
That day was the last time I saw Yuzuru.
I guess he wasn't lying when he said he could leave whenever he wanted.
No one tried to stop him. No alarms or anything
When the guards came for their usual checks, they didn't even react to his absence.
It was as if he had never been here at all.
No goodbyes. No last words.
Not that we were close anyway—he hated being around me, and I knew it.
In the three months we'd spent together, the number of times he actually looked in my direction could be counted on one hand.
He left his book behind. I guess that was his version of a farewell gift—if I even knew how to use any of it.
As expected, it was a martial arts book.
Sambo, to be precise.
"Haaaf…"
I let out a long sigh, eerily similar to Yuzuru's—that same dog-like exhale of his. Guess some habits rubbed off on me.
I was sitting in the dining hall, half-heartedly chewing the usual slop they served every day. The book rested in my lap.
I wasn't really studying it—just flipping through the pages, looking at the doodles Yuzuru had drawn in the margins.
His drawings were shit.
" hahahhikkk-"
My heart sank, my breathing hitching as I covered my face with his shaking hands
What am I doing?
Hanayama could be waiting outside, ready to tear me apart and here I am, sitting around, giggling at drawings like a little kid.
Am I really destined to throw this life away too?
A moment passed. Yang steadied himself, swept his hair back with his fingers, and straightened his posture.
Then his the back of head bumped into something as he straightened
He looked up.
!!!
Masa was standing over him, staring down. An eye patch covered his left eye.
Yang lowered his gaze.
Dai was sitting in front of him, his head buried in the slop—bubbles slowly forming and popping on the surface.
Before Yang could open his mouth, Masa pressed something hard against the side of his neck.
"Shhhhh."
Yang bit his lip and froze.
"Don't try to ve funny" Masa whispered. "I can see your legs. Try to vake him up, and I vill get a red badge."
What was digging into Yang's neck was a toothbrush—its tip melted and fused around a razor blade.
Yang slowly closed his eyes.
Seeing that Yang understood the situation, Masa smiled faintly. "Good. Now come vith me."
Come with you?
Where the hell were the guards?
Inside, Yang was screaming
Usually, there were always two guards stationed near the door ,eager to break the bones of anyone who so much as thought about starting a fight.
Yang turned his head slightly.
They were still there.
Standing in the same spot.
Not even sparing him a glance.
Some cellmates grinned at him and some averted their gaze
realization finally sank in.
He understood now.
They were all in on it.
Before Yang could react, Masa's knee shot up into his stomach.
Yang collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest. He tried to breathe—but no air would come. His lungs burned, refusing to obey
The words were barely audible.
Yang realized something then.
There was no reason to whisper—everyone was already involved.
He wasn't afraid of being heard.
He was afraid of Dai.
Masa seized Yang by the back of his collar with his left hand. The fabric cinched tight against Yang's throat, crushing the front of his neck and forcing the air out of his lungs in a harsh gasp.
Without slowing, Masa dragged him across the floor and out of the dining hall, Yang's feet barely keeping up as he struggled to breathe. They passed the guards on the way out—men with rigid postures and empty, unreadable faces—who didn't so much as glance in their direction.
____________________
Masa yanked open the back door and shoved Yang outside.
"Hold him for me."
The backyard opened into a small garden. Warning signs—NO TRESPASSING—were planted everywhere. At the center stood a strawberry patch, surrounded by iron fences arranged in a perfect square.
Whoever owned the place clearly didn't want anyone getting close.
Yet despite that, three bald men were leaning casually against the fence, their backs resting on the iron bars ,Two had cigarettes dangling lazily from their lips, smoke drifting upward, while the third rolled one between his fingers.
All three faced the doorway Masa had just entered through—waiting.
And what they were waiting for had finally arrived.
The one with the cigarette flicked it away and walked toward Yang, who was still gasping for air.
He grabbed Yang by the hair and yanked his head upward, turning him around in one rough motion.
Then his arm slipped around Yang's neck.
A chokehold.
He didn't apply much force,just enough to keep Yang pinned in place for Masa. Any more pressure and Yang would've blacked out. He knew that.
"vhat? Where did all that toughness go?" Masa shrugged as he stepped closer.
"Yo, yo, Masa-Masa. Long time no see," Yang rasped. "How was the infirmary? Nurse hot? "
Masa answered by lunging forward, driving his left fist straight into Yang's stomach.
"Gaaaah—!!"
The air was crushed out of Yang's lungs.
"…cough—cough!"
He doubled over, coughing violently then he started wheezing
Masa had been born with gigantism. His fists were enormous, round like iron balls—
and when they hit, they hit like a bowling ball at full speed.
"You vastard. Vecause of you, I can't use me left eye anymore," Masa said, touching the patch. Veins bulged on his forehead, yet despite the anger and the insults, his voice stayed calm and casual.
"Huff… huff… c'mon, big guy. You know I didn't do it on purpose," Yang forced a smile, his breathing ragged. "My hand just slipped."
"Really?" Masa asked, the idiot looking completely convinced.
Yang knew how little brainpower Masa had
that was exactly why he was surprised the guy could even hold a grudge in the first place.
"He's messing with you, Masamoto. Don't listen to him," one of the two men behind us said.
Oh so thats why , those guys are controlling him
Masa glanced back at him, then slowly turned his glare toward Yang.
"No, no, no, Masaboyo," Yang said calmly his breath finally steadying "Why would I lie to you? Your eye just happened to be right where my finger was going. That's why it hit you."
"Enough. No more games!"
Masa shouted, the casual tone vanishing in an instant. His hand darted to his waistband, yanking out the toothbrush knife.
"W–wait, wait—calm down, Mas—"
Yang didn't get to finish.
Masa lunged forward and began slashing at Yang's face, the blade flashing wildly as it tore through the air and the flesh,
Blood splashed across the dirt and plants
Crack.
The sharp sound of something snapping echoed in the cell.
Masa froze, staring at the bloodied toothbrush in his hand. The razor blade that had been embedded in it was gone
ripped clean out. Slowly, his gaze lifted to Yang.
Yang stood there, face smeared with blood and wounds, long strands of hair clinging to his skin and hiding half his expression. Between his split, blood-soaked lips, something glinted faintly.
A razor blade.
"You bastard—give it back!" Masa roared, his arm shooting forward to punch him.
"—Ah!"
Yang's right leg moved first.
It snapped up like a whip, slamming into Masa's groin with brutal precision. Masa's eyes bulged as the air left his lungs. He crumpled instantly, dropping to his knees, both hands clutching himself as a strangled gasp escaped his throat.
The man choking Yang suddenly increased the pressure on his neck.
Sensing the momentum shifting, he decided to finish it.
"Alright, that was impressive. Now go to sleep—hmm?"
He glanced down.
Yang's left hand was clenched tightly around his testicles.
Yang's hand clenched shut.
Grk—!
The man's groin caved under the pressure, pain detonating instantly—as if two testicles had shattered and split into four.
His eyes rolled back, whites flashing, and his body went slack on yang back almost immediately
grabbed his right arm, trying to throw him over my shoulder toward Masa, who was kneeling and starting to get up—but the dead weight of an unconscious man overwhelmed me making my knees buckle
"Gukk!"
Abort the mission.
Abort the mission.
I was trying to do what Yuzuru did to the guards—but apparently, I didn't have enough strength.
As I tried to straighten my knees and throw the eunuch off my back, something hard smashed into my face. The force of the punch sent both of us flying backward, slamming into the fence between the two who were smoking
Bang!
The eunuch's back smashed through the iron fence and landed on the strawberry patch, his body taking the full impact and shielding Yang as they crashed through.
"Huff… huff…"
Masa was gasping for air, his chest heaving as tears streamed down his face.
A sharp pain erupted his left hand
He glanced down—
—and froze.
The razor from earlier—the one Yang had torn from his makeshift knife—was lodged deep between his index and middle fingers.
"NOOOO NOT AGAIN!! I CAN'T— I CAN'T USE MY HANDS ANYMORE!!!"
His scream cracked as he wailed,the fake accent dissappeard, tears pouring even harder now, snot running freely from his nose.
"WAAAAAH! YANG, YOU DEVIL!!!"
He dropped to one knee, clutching his injured left hand with his bandaged right, pressing down hard in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding.
"Gahaaa—!!"
Nearby, the two men who had been smoking with their backs against the fence exchanged brief glances.
Then one of them slipped through the hole in the fence, grabbed the unconscious Yang—who lay slumped against the eunuch's chest—by the hair, and dragged him back through the gap
Chik!
The man looked down at Yang—only to realize a jagged toothbrush was buried in him.
Where did it come from?
Yang had pulled it from the eunuch's pants.
A toothbrush turned into a makeshift knife is common practice in reformatories or prisons in general. You either melted a razor into it under the sun
The cheap kind,the ones sold in bulk
It melt easily.
…or scarpe it against the edge of a table,bed even against the toilet seat until the tip becomes jagged enough to rip through flesh.
Primitive. Ugly. Most times unaffective due the fragility of the toothbrush itself
But effective to catch people off guard just like what yang just did
Chik. Chik. Chik.
Yang kept driving the blade into the man's right calf, again and again.
" fucking " the man hoisted Yang up, lifting him high enough to leave empty space between his head and the ground
"Bitch !!"
then stomped his head down
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
Gark. Gurk. Gork.
" the fuck is you problem huh ? Just because i left you alone for a moment and you think im a pushover!?"
The sickening sound of yang skull colliding with concrete echoed through the area.
Even Masa, who had been crying earlier, fell silent and stared at the scene in shock.
Even the guy who had been smoking froze—his cigarette slipped from his lips and hit the floor as he gaped in disbelief.
Despite the gap in their intelligence, the same thought crossed both of their minds:
Does he want to kill him?
"Hey—hey, Kichi, stop! Stop, I said!"
The man who had been smoking rushed forward. He slipped in behind Kichi, hooked both arms under his armpits, and yanked him back.
"Enough, damn it!"
Even then, Kichi still had his right foot pressed against Yang's face.
"I swear I'm going to kill him! Let go of me, Tarou!"
He thrashed violently, lifting his leg again, ready to stomp one last time.
Yang opened his mouth.
Chomp.
Between Tarou's pull from behind and the snap of Yang's teeth, Kichi's big toe and index toe were torn clean off.
"Pto!"
Yang spat them out.
!!!!
" AHHHHHHHHHHH! " Kichi screamed on top of his lungs seeing as his foot sprayed a ton of blood on yang face
Tarou shook his head as he struggled to steady Kichi, who was thrashing even harder now.
They'd had a plan ,one that should've been impossible to screw up.
One scrawny guy against four, with guards who'd even given them permission to enter this place
What could possibly go wrong?
Masa had wanted to vent his anger. He kept pushing, insisting they give him that chance.
And because of that, everything fell apart.
One of them lost the use of his hands.
Another lost the ability to ever have children.
Another would never walk properly again.
Everyone lost something. Even their target—there was no way he was getting out of this without a concussion, maybe worse.
Tarou started dragging Kichi toward the door, glancing at Masa, who stood there in silence.
"Let's go."
"W–what about Inaba?"
"Forget about him."
Tarou forced the door open with his leg and cast one last look back at Yang who was laying on the ground
His eyes widened.
Yang raised his blood-soaked right hand and extended a single finger at them.
The middle one.