Chapter Text
“…And that’s the first trial. Was it what you expected?” Jackalope smirked. “Not happy with your decisions? Too bad. Nothing in Milgram—or life—can be undone. It’s not for the warden to worry about anyway. That’s right, you are the warden. Don’t doubt it, that is your job. As long as you don’t forget that, you’re fine.”
Es felt their eyelids grow heavy.
'I am the Warden. That is my job.'
“Good, now that you understand,” Jackalope whispered. “Go to sleep, Es.”
Es fell into darkness.
It didn’t feel like much time had passed while they slept. Es blinked up at the ceiling of their room, disoriented, the strange gravity of Milgram pressed onto them.
No Jackalope on their lap this time.
Their eyes were heavy, joints aching with dull protest. It had been a while since they’d slept properly. Between interrogations, verdicts, and keeping order, rest rarely made the list. Jackalope provided meals. Everything else fell to the Warden.
Then who had been watching the prison while they slept? Jackalope?
If the prison could be run properly without Es, were they even needed?
There was no need to think about this. Es forced the thought aside.
They closed their eyes, savoring the rare quiet. This moment of calmness was fleeting, but it grounded them before the chaos inevitably returned.
Being the Warden wasn’t always fun. But it gave them a place. A purpose. That left no room for complaints.
They knocked on Jackalope’s door.
“Ah, Es.” Jackalope blinked but Es could hear a smirk creep in. “Awake already?”
“Mm…? What do you mean by ‘already’? What happened when I was asleep?”
“Nothing much. It’s only been one night after all. You were supposed to be asleep for much longer.” Jackalope thumped. “Ha— You were always the eager type.”
“Don’t tease me, Jackalope.” Es frowned. “Was the decision changed to not to put me to sleep? Is there something I am needed for?”
“Hey, this round is even better than I thought.” Jackalope let out a satisfied laughter. “Since you’re such a diligent warden, you should go check on your little sinners. See how they're reacting to the verdicts. Should be fun."
Something in his voice made them feel uneasy. Es didn’t press their caretaker.
“Understood.” They nodded and left before being dismissed. Naturally it was the Warden’s duty to watch over their prisoners.
With a task at hand, their destination became the panopticon—a place with no doors into cells, only eyes. Countless eyes, watching everything while nothing could ever look back.
The Warden stepped up to the console and pulled up the footage. Small frames. Just enough to monitor without prying.
Most of the prison was already anticipating the first meal of the day. Only Cells Two, Eight, Nine, and Ten still showed movement inside.
In cell two, Yuno was chatting with Mahiru.
In cell eight, Momose Amane, usually obsessed with punctuality, was praying with such intensity she’d lost track of time.
In cell nine, Kayano Mikoto was tearing his uniform and pillow to shreds.
Cell ten made their gut twist.
Something was wrong.
They enlarged the feed.
They should’ve seen this coming.
Fuuta was curled on the ground, shielding his head, shuddering with every blow. Kotoko towered over him like a predator, baton raised and falling with aggressive precision.
Their chest tightened.
Es ran.
Heart pounding, blood roaring in their ears, they bolted from the panopticon into the prison corridors.
They weren’t sure why they were so afraid. Why their chest hurt like this.
There was no time to dwell on such pointless emotions. Regardless of how Es felt, the Warden had a duty to keep the prison functioning. To ensure every prisoner survived long enough to be judged.
Their hands moved faster than their thoughts.
The door to cell ten slammed open.
“Es?” Kotoko’s voice was calm, as if caught mid-duty.
Fuuta glared, battered and bruised. No longer at Kotoko but at Es instead.
“Es, are you okay? Ah, right, sorry you have to see this. I was going to take care of the scum before you saw.”
Es stood firm against the intense heat within the cell. They straightened their spine, making eye contact with the tenth prisoner. “Kotoko. What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m going to get rid of the sinners in order. After Kajiyama Fuuta, I’ll get rid of Shiina Mahiru, Momose Amane and Kayano Mikoto.”
“Mahiru…?” Es frowned. “You’re planning to attack Amane too?”
“That’s right. You haven’t forgiven her, so wouldn’t it be justified?”
“But she’s just a child...”
“So what? This ‘child’ is kept here because she murdered a person, isn’t she? Why should her age matter? You’re the one choosing not to forgive her anyway.”
“Kotoko!” They clenched their fists. “Listen to me, you’re wrong. It’s my prison, you follow my rules.”
“Hahh… Didn’t we agree to work together?” Kotoko smiled. “I became your fangs.”
“Forgiveness isn’t approval, Kotoko.” Es stepped forward.
“Isn’t that what ‘cooperation’ means? Doing whatever the other side can’t.”
“Hurting people isn’t cooperation. You’re supposed to follow my rules.”
“Rules, you say?” Kotoko let out an amused laugh. “Fights between prisoners are not prohibited, so your superiors may have expected this already.”
“…!”
“Isn't it why I've been given support?” She swung the baton. “You aren’t strong enough to be the executioner so I’ll shoulder this responsibility.”
“Permitted violence isn’t the same as necessary violence.”
“Isn’t it?” Kotoko sighed. “Look at him. Their wrongdoings mean nothing until they get hurt. I’m teaching them a lesson.”
“Then class is dismissed.” Es glanced at Fuuta, he was barely upright, crawling toward the door. “This isn’t how I want Milgram to be run. I’m not working with you.”
“You want to stop me?” She said, “You think you’re in control?”
“I am the Warden.”
“Then act like it. Or you’re just clinging to an illusion. I said I will become your fangs. Have you forgotten? I’m going to do the things you can’t do.”
“I don’t need it.”
“Why?” Kotoko didn’t wait for an answer. “If some stranger punished a killer you didn’t know, would you care this much?”
“We're talking about Milgram. Your words are irrelevant.” Es was already getting sick of having to lecture Kotoko. She did not listen.
“Is Milgram the only answer you have for anything? What a circular argument.” She exhaled in disappointment. “When killers face violence, we call it karmic retribution. Don’t you?”
“You’re persistent. Maybe I do, but what about it? It has nothing to do with you hurting my prisoners.”
Kotoko chuckled, amused. "Your prisoners? Listen to yourself. That’s the problem. You’re not judging objectively anymore.”
Es tensed. Doubt began to fester.
Her voice softened, almost kind. “It’s a lot of responsibility to bear alone. You need someone to be with. Someone to leave all the dirty work to.”
Someone who would close their eyes, block their ears and call it justice.
How insulting.
Es straightened. “I won’t abandon my responsibility.”
They meant it. Every consequence in this prison belonged to them. Every mistake. Every scar left behind by their decisions.
“I’m what you need.” Kotoko said.
She turned just as Fuuta stumbled out of the cell, barely keeping his footing.
“You won’t stop me,” She continued calmly. “So why pretend?”
Their hands balled into fists.
Negotiation had failed. The rational choice was clear: summon another prisoner. Someone fast enough. Someone stronger. Someone expendable.
Es didn’t do it.
As Warden, prisoners weren’t supposed to be able to hurt them.
Didn’t that make them the best choice to intervene?
They moved before the doubt could catch up.
Kotoko reached for Fuuta. Es lunged, grabbing her arm with both hands, digging their fingers in and refusing to let go.
“You don’t get to decide how my prisoners are punished,” Es clenched their teeth.
Kotoko didn’t even look surprised. Maybe just disappointed.
“Let go.”
She shook them off with a sharp twist. Es slammed onto the cold floor. Pain exploded in their ankle.
They gasped, vision blurring.
She hadn’t even meant to hurt them. The protective system stayed silent.
That meant it was the fault of their weakness.
Kotoko released Fuuta and turned back, her expression shifting as she took in Es crumpled on the floor.
Concern. Maybe sympathy.
Es lifted their head, eyes fixed on Kotoko towering over.
They didn’t need a prisoner’s pity.
In the periphery of their sight, Es noticed that Fuuta had taken advantage of the distraction and began to flee. Tension loosened in their chest just enough to breathe. But their fingers pressed deeper into their palms.
“You can’t protect anyone,” Kotoko said. “Not like this.”
“That’s not true.” Es forced the words out, careful not to glance toward Fuuta’s escape route.
Kotoko stepped closer and extended a hand. “You’re hurt. You must be in so much pain. Let me take a look at you.”
“...N-No.” They pulled away instinctively. “I don’t need…”
“It’s alright,” Kotoko said gently, kneeling to their level. “You don’t have to be strong alone anymore. You can rely on me.”
Her arms closed around them.
“No…!”
Es twisted violently, throwing their weight sideways. Their shoulder struck the ground. Pain lanced up their leg again, sharp and punishing.
Kotoko released them. “Es? What are you doing, hurting yourself like this? Are you crazy?”
“I don’t want your help.” Es sucked in a breath, forcing clarity through the pain. Think. Move. “I don’t need it.”
Quiet fleeting footsteps faded completely from the clockwise direction.
Good.
Es shifted, pushing backward with their uninjured leg, angling anticlockwise, dragging themselves down the curved corridors. The cold floor scraped against their palms as they moved, inch by inch.
Kotoko followed.
“You really are stubborn,” She said. “You’ll destroy yourself at this rate.”
They passed Cell Nine. Something rattled inside it. Kotoko didn’t even glance over. Her baton tapped against the door, producing a dull, echoing clang.
“Is this about responsibility?” She continued. “If you can’t accept the weight of your choices, you’re too imperfect to be a warden, you’re just a child…”
The words hit harder than the fall.
“Imperfect…? Me…?”
Es stopped breathing momentarily. Kotoko had rattled them once already, they couldn’t let her get to their head again. Get it together, Es.
“No,” They spoke more firmly now. “I told you already. Even if I forgave you, I don’t approve of your methods.”
“Why not?” Kotoko tilted her head.“Why not? You’ve hurt them before. You’ve scared them. What makes it that different? Is it not violence too when you hit them?”
She wasn’t wrong.
Kotoko has seen everything.
Es cringed internally, wishing they hadn’t been so quick to act.
“Even so,” Es said, forcing steadiness into their voice, “I’m the one in charge. You’re just a tool. Don’t get ahead of yourself”
Kotoko could have stopped them at any time. She didn’t.
She stalked them instead. Like they were a wounded animal certain to fall. There was no doubt. Like she was certain Es would eventually give in.
Not happening.
To their horror, footsteps came from behind.
Es turned.
“Yuzuriha Kotoko and… Warden.” Amane stood only a foot behind Es. There was a dazed look in her eyes—nothing like the girl Es had first met.
“Get out of here,” Es ordered sharply.
They didn’t like her—but they wouldn’t let Kotoko punish her in their name.
“Momose Amane.” Kotoko addressed the girl. One foot stepped in front of the other. “Have you recognized your wrongdoings and come to seek punishment for your actions?”
“We have not sinned.” Amane replied calmly. “Our actions were in line with our doctrine.”
Her gaze flicked between them.
“You see?” Kotoko said. “They can never change. Give me your judgment. Let me be your fang.”
Kotoko’s baton lifted.
Amane’s eyes widened, her body stilled.
Es yanked Amane down. Impact knocked the air from their lungs. They rolled—Es on top—just as the baton came down. The system reacted. Pressure lifted as Kotoko was knocked back.
Beneath them, Amane lay still and unresisting, limp as a doll. Her eyes unfocused. She whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”
The words scraped against something old within Es.
Kotoko recovered quickly, looming over them. For just a moment, something cracked in her expression, impatience edged with something closer to need. "Why do you still protect her? Can’t you see she can’t be helped? Give me Momose Amane and I’ll purge her evil for you.”
Amane trembled uncontrollably, eyes wide and empty. Like she recognized the pattern for what was to come.
She gripped their uniform.
Choosing who to protect and who to punish… Had they ever known the difference?
Words disappeared before they could even leave their mouth. All they could do was shake their head.
“So that’s your answer. How disappointing.”
Kotoko circled them. Trying to find a way to take Amane without triggering the barrier that protected Es.
Amane looped prayers like a broken record, so quiet that only Es heard. She glanced at Kotoko in terror for a microsecond and in response, she buried herself in Es' failing protection.
This stalemate became a waiting game. How long before the board flipped?
Es breathed in, trying to still their shaking hands. Crashing and rattling could be heard from the closed door of cell nine. If he came out, Es would have no way to protect Amane.
The door kept shaking.
The white lights on the ceiling reflected off the black baton.
Kotoko’s grip on the handle was loose.
An idea came to mind.
'Wolves were dogs too, weren’t they?'
Es turned over and pushed Amane away, ignoring the betrayal that flashed in her eyes. The hate morphed into resolve.
Before Kotoko could ‘deal with Amane’ Es extended a steady arm towards Kotoko. She smiled as if they were finally ready to accept her ‘help’. Es took her support, getting onto their feet slowly, buying just enough time to see Amane break out of her daze.
Now.
Taking advantage of Kotoko’s lowered guard, they yanked the baton free. Threw it hard. “Fetch.”
The baton hit the ninth door. The impact resounded in the prison. Kotoko didn’t chase after the baton but her face contorted into fury. “You…!”
Kotoko locked onto Amane.
As standing with only one uninjured foot became too difficult, Es threw their full weight onto Kotoko. Kotoko, much taller than Es, didn’t fall, only stumbled back a few steps. Es hooked their arms to Kotoko’s legs to keep her from moving.
“Get out of here!” Es yelled. “Warn the others!”
Despite her reluctance to run, Amane eventually did as she was told.
“All you weaklings are the same.” Kotoko spat.
Kotoko broke free, sending Es crashing again. Their head hit hard. Their sight unfocused.
Kotoko’s attention was fixed on Amane’s retreating figure.
Es tried to push themselves up.
The world tilted.
“How noisy.”
The voice came from behind them, irritated.
Es froze.
A hand seized their collar and hauled them upright with brutal efficiency. Their feet barely touched the ground before they were slammed back down. The impact rattled through their skull, stars bursting across their vision.
The air in their lungs left them in a sharp, useless gasp.
“Stay down.”
Es’s hands twitched against the floor, instinct screaming to move, to crawl, to roll over, to do something. The pressure on them increased immediately, a knee pinning their hand, weight bearing down without mercy.
“Why do you keep doing this?” The voice snapped. “Running around. Causing trouble for others. You don’t stop talking—don’t stop pushing—”
They swung their arms as hard as they could, hoping it would deter whoever it was from touching them again.
An unforgiving fist struck Es in the face.
Their ears rang.
“You made everything worse,” He continued, breathing unevenly, anger bleeding through. “Everything was already unstable. And you—”
The grip tightened.
“—you just keep on pushing and pushing…!”
Es’s fingers scraped uselessly against the floor. They swung an arm blindly, the motion weak and desperate. It didn’t land. It didn’t matter.
A short, humorless laugh left him. “Yeah. That’s about what I expected. Serves you right.”
He grabbed Es again, yanking them upright only to shove them back down.
“Stop pissing me off,” He snarled, the cracks spreading. “You don’t listen. You don’t stop. You think you can just stand there and talk like you’re not the problem—like you’re not just some unimportant brat acting all high and mighty.”
Another blow. Less controlled this time.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, you shitty brat! You hear me?!”
Their vision flickered. In that brief moment, the scene cleared.
Mikoto. Or someone wearing his face.
Es’s vision blurred completely, the ceiling smearing into white noise. Their senses dulled and distorted, like they were underwater.
There was almost a regretful sigh as he lifted Es once more. “You really shouldn’t have pushed ‘the other me’.”
He released them abruptly.
Es hit the floor again, unmoving this time.
Es didn’t know what came after surrendering to their weakness. In the darkness, the last sound they recalled was a rough, frustrated voice:
“Why did it have to come to this?”