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Chattering teeth. Welled eye. Quivering lip. Fuuta lay across his cell bed, gripping his fingers deeper into his black hoodie tugged at the edges of his head. He had learned how to manage the pain of his wounds during the day: suck it up so no one watched him shake. When it came nighttime, however, with no soul around, he was a mess. A shaking, whimpering, distraught mess.
Knock knock.
Fuuta shot up, instinctively suppressing his reaction to the searing pain behind his eye. It hadn’t been the first time someone checked on him this late. He half-expected it to be Kazui, possibly Yuno. But who entered his sight was the last person he’d ever expect or desire to see.
“Kotoko?”
Standing tall like a blocked-out figure in the doorway, the raven-haired woman met his gaze. The light from the outside corridor peered in, casting an eerie white, angelic glow over her.
She hesitated before speaking.
“Shouldn’t you be asleep? I can hear you across the hall.”
“I’m sorry-”
Fuuta’s confusion leaked into his stuttery speech. He was usually quick to be defensive, but the way Kotoko stared down at him, boding, only granted him unease.
“I’ll shut up.”
Kotoko blinked. She had a moment of resolve before a sigh, stepping in and revealing more of her fitted figure.
“And not at all what I was implying.”
She groaned. A loss for words.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
Fuuta just stared at her, gripping onto the sheets of his bed to stop himself from shaking uncontrollably. He felt weak, like he was being hunted: a caged animal, chained, bearing witness to his captor taunting him with an annoyed glint.
Kotoko noticed the lack of response, and thus, continued on.
“Mukuhara Kazui prevented me from carrying out my duty as Es’ fang to the fullest extent.”
She huffed with discomfort.
“But my inaction led me to consider it more. I still maintain my belief that we aren’t that different.”
Fuuta let out a shaky exhale. He braced himself for the inevitable. A sharp inhale replaced his breath.
“Do what you gotta do.”
Kotoko opened her mouth to speak, then paused. Confused.
“You’re here to finish the job.”
Fuuta's heart rang loudly in his chest.
“That’s it, huh? Well- get it over with.”
Kotoko took a step back. That was far from the expected response. Yelling at her, begging for her to stop, compliance even. But this?
“What.”
“Heh. Hahaha…”
Fuuta chuckled, flashing a grin of expected agony.
“How’re you gonna do it? You already punctured my eye. Maybe you’ll pin me down, strangle me. But that’s too slow. Huh. You’d force me against the wall, take out that bat of yours, and beat me again, right?”
Kotoko looked off.
“Beat me until my body collapses, and there lies a bloody mess of a broken man on the floor. Haha…”
Fuuta laughed again, the pounding of his heart growing louder and louder.
“You really are crazy.”
Kotoko muttered. She didn’t know whether he was intentionally defending himself or was letting his emotions guide him. She couldn’t blame him, regardless. She’s responsible for his state.
Considering all possibilities, she began to step forward.
“Come on, Kotoko.”
Fuuta taunted.
“Are you scared I’ll lash out now that we’re equally matched? No no, don’t worry.”
He laughed again, though his voice cracked under the pressure.
“I want out of this place.”
Kotoko pressed forward. As much as she viewed Fuuta as a lowlife, addicted, 20-year-old coward, she had begun to piece together off others’ reactions how bad the damage was. Unlike Mahiru’s continued selfless attitude, Fuuta had shut everyone out.
It was a reaction quite like her own.
Fuuta watched her approach, fighting the urge to recoil, back away. She would overpower him here time and time again. The endless cycle, if he managed to scrape by with his life.
Kotoko stopped at the edge of his bed, peering down into his docile, fearful gaze as his shrunken pose made him appear small. The two locked eye contact. Neither flinching, neither making any attempt to move.
This close, it was clear how tired they both were. The dark eyebags drug below Fuuta’s uncovered eye, glinting from the corridor lights; Kotoko’s irises a muted red.
Flames coiled Fuuta’s soul as the space of the room pressed down on him.
Kotoko's eyes reflected the playback of her attack, as he visualized her beating him to the floor.
Shoving him, laying into his chest enough to knock his breath out. Hit after hit after hit with a cold metal bat, the weight leaving welts all along his arms and legs. Tilting his head with a cold touch into a position to meticulously stomp a steel-toed boot into his eye. The sting as the cables in his retinas snapped and detached.
She yelled her philosophy loud enough he could hear her over the sound of his own whimpers. And no matter how much his body was throbbing, he memorised her every word: an identical retelling of what he had believed in for so long. Justice.
The vision stopped when Kotoko closed her eyes, pressing towards him and placing two arms awkwardly around his back. She tugged to bring him up to her chest. Her heart thumped at an abnormal rate.
Fuuta was unresponsive for a moment. He was barely conscious in her arms, processing the gesture before accepting and allowing it to happen.
The moment’s tension felt longer than it actually was. Kotoko pulled away to grip his shoulders.
“You need to get up. You have a duty to this world.”
Fuuta stared.
Kotoko shook him.
“Do you hear me?”
“I see you.”
Fuuta breathed out. He shoved her arms off, and by knowledge of their strength differences, that told him she was being gentle.
She huffed as he shoved her. There was no need for him to reciprocate. She turned, starting for the door.
“Hey.”
Kotoko paused, glancing over her shoulder.
Fuuta pressed a palm to his cheek.
“We really are similar, aren’t we?”
He diverted his gaze.
“Goodnight, Kajiyama.”
Kotoko passed through the doorway, shutting the cell door behind her.
Fuuta watched her lingering presence exit. He fiddled with his eyepatch.
He couldn’t feel it anymore.