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He thought the first one would be worse than the last.
He was wrong.
Oh how he was so wrong.
Where he once sought redemption, where he finally thought he saw improvement. Where his future once didn’t seem so dull.
It all returned to square one.
He believed he would be able to take it better the second time round, though it was apparent quickly that what he thought was false. For a moment, before receiving this verdict, he thought maybe Amane could help him.
But why would anyone help him? Why would anyone want to help him? Can he be helped? Can he come back from this? Does he deserve to be redeemed?
He covered his mouth with his hand and he curled up on his bed. He hadn’t left his room in ages. He ate every once and a while. He didn’t listen when people talked to him. The only gossip that caught his attention was Haruka’s well being. He didn’t have time to help that kid. He wanted to so badly though. He didn’t want him to suffer the same fate. He had no right to tell him otherwise anyway.
His grip on his mouth tightened, resisting choked sobs, holding back the tears that pricked at the side of his eyes. He was in pain. The pain wasn’t physical, yet he felt his whole body was on fire. The location of the pain was untraceable yet everywhere all at once. His injuries had mostly healed, though his sight never returned. Even if the attack was a while back, he was still in pain. So much pain.
He didn’t want salvation, he didn’t want to think or believe he could be a good person. He just wanted it all to end. He wanted to disappear. He wanted Es to forgive him. He had told himself he didn’t care what the warden thought of him, he had believed for a while that they were just equals, just one had more power than the other. But he knew that wasn’t the case. He wanted to be forgiven so badly. He just wanted one person to think that he wasn’t…
A bad person…?
But that’s what he was. Why did he want them to say he wasn’t when at the end of the day that was exactly what he was. A criminal. A low life. A murderer. Good for nothing.
Justice is so fickle, the meaning to him slowly got more and more blurred when he used to serve it. At first, he found a rush of adrenaline, making people who did wrong apologize for what they did. It made him feel important. At first what he was doing was good, it was great actually. But his mind became corrupted. He craved the feeling he got when he humiliated people by exposing them and forcing them to apologize. It got to a point where he didn’t care who the victim was, and even if he felt some pity, once he was too deep in, he never backed down.
That’s what led him here. He wondered how he became so blind. How he allowed himself to get too carried away. The person he was in high school, the same boy who got bullied and wanted bad people to vanish, would he want him to vanish too? He wanted to rid the world of cruel people, but that goal quickly became a hunt of hunger. How could he have been so stupid? He could come up with all the excuses he wanted, he could blame it on his parents, he could blame it on the influence the internet had on him. But none of that would change that he did do it, and that it was his fault.
His crime wasn’t just disgusting, it was also pathetic. Inexcusable, what he did was inexcusable. Maybe even Kotoko is more innocent than he, and she is not innocent at all. She wished to make the world better… right? Why couldn’t he have been that way too? He didn’t know what the others did, but they couldn’t have been as morally disgusting as him.
He slowly sat up from his bed. How long had he been crying? How long had he been stuck in his own head? He felt like he had shoved himself in his cell for weeks. Or maybe it really had been weeks, he stopped caring about how much time passed. He was hungry, and starved. He had gone so thin it made him uncomfortable in his own skin.
He sat up from his bed and groaned in pain, the fire from before turned into a horrible headache.
“Fuck…” Was all he could mumble. He stood up and wobbled a bit. He hoped there would be food prepared already when he leaves so he won’t have to wait.
He slowly dragged his feet, hunched over on himself. He could see the looks of concern from his inmates as he walked past them. He knew he looked pathetic, that he looked half dead. He just wanted everyone to stop staring at him.
After what felt like a long excruciating walk, he finally made his way to the cafeteria. He stared at the foods available, mostly disgusting greens that made his stomach churn from staring at it, and a plate of fish. He knew starving himself wasn’t healthy and a horrible idea. He remembered the state Haruka was in. But he would rather die than eat anything Jackalope made. He walked back over to a table, not wanting to go all the way back to his cell and sat down.
He buried his face in his arms. Hungry… he was so hungry… Why was he so picky…? So stubborn… So damn lazy…?
He started to let the voices creep back into his brian. He started to think. He already had too much time to think.
He didn’t understand why one stupid guard’s decisions… verdicts… so impactful on his mental health- on how he feels about himself.
Because they’re right..
What did he want..? He just… he just wanted them to say he was forgiven so badly… he wanted to believe he could be a better person. He hated himself, the person he is and was. Why couldn’t the warden see he wanted to change so badly? What he did, was it not possible for him to redeem himself and bounce back from?
He had acknowledged it.. Let it eat at his brain.. What he did was horrible because he was a horrible person. He was guilty, that was for sure… but he didn’t think he deserved to die for it… he thinks he could make up for it… No, he could never make up for it other than taking his own life. He at least wanted to have the chance to never screw up like that again..
Fuuta was starving… starving for Es to tell him he was… forgivable… he was starving for anyone to tell him so… even though Amane had, he pushed her away because he thought he didn’t deserve it. Before, maybe he wasn’t as hungry, but now he craves what he pushed away. He needed that validation on his plate, he needed to scarf down that help. He needed the sweet smell of support and the bitter taste of discipline.
He buried his face further into his arms, his breath quickening. He moved his head from side to side, becoming restless and agitated. He suddenly bit down on his arm through his shirt, biting so hard he tasted something wet and metallic. He gasped in pain and stared at his arm, quickly rolling down the sleeve to see the leaking bite mark he had just inflicted on himself.
He stared and stared. He watched the blood trickle down his forearm and onto the table.
Freak freak freak freak freak.
The smell of fresh blood was intoxicating, the rush of the pain was unfamiliar. It somehow filled his empty stomach. He hadn’t done self harm since high school, and he wondered how he even stopped. Especially when the pain felt this good.
Thank goodness no one else was around, or they’d be there to witness his crooked, weak smile while he looked at his self-inflicted injury. He slowly stood up from the table and walked back to his cell.
He could never make up for it other than taking his own life. An eye for an eye. A life for a life.
Hungry and hungry he grew in his cell, the fresh scent of blood filling the air. Loud smashing sounds of skull against the slick walls grew louder and louder until the other prisoners wondered what the sound might be. He licked the blood as it trickled down his forehead all the way to his mouth, tasting of what he thought death might have tasted like.
His hands gripped the wall as much as he possibly could, until they started slipping from the impact of his head bashing against the wall. His knees shifted against the ground with every brutal hit. He slowly became lightheaded, until the voices got drowned out by ringing, until he forgot why he was doing this in the first place. Even so, with the rhythm and lingering hunger, he kept going. His stomach had never felt so filled, so had his heart and brain. At least he didn’t lose himself until the very last few moments of his life.
After he couldn’t bring enough force to throw himself at the wall, once the brain damage finally settled in and his energy depleted, he toppled backwards and onto the floor. There was blood covering the wall, the floor, and all over the prisoner. He was finally full, and he was definitely satisfied….
At least that’s what the voices told him right before everything went black.
___
Yuno opened the door cautiously in concern.
“Fuuta…?” She whispered, pushing open the cell entrance wearily with Haruka, Kazui and Amane behind her. “We heard a- oh my god..”
In a weakened state, Haruka fainted from the sight and Yuno caught him quickly. Kazui and Amane went up to his limp body and examined the scene. Kazui’s hands were shaking, he was basically holding his breath. Amane didn’t look like she felt bad about him, but stared at his body like his passing was a shame, as if she believed she could have prevented it.
“Ah shit… kid… I…” Kazui exhaled, looking for a pulse. “We were too late…”
Amane shook her head, “He wasn’t a lost soul, he just refused a path to redemption. You cannot save those who don’t want to be saved. He did this to himself.” She said coldly, but there was a hint of something else in her voice. “He wasn’t taking care of himself, it’s no surprise his mental health was ruined along with his unhealthy habits. He should have eaten more.”
Yuno nodded her head, the younger prisoner still in her arms, “We should take more care of Haruka then, to make sure this doesn’t happen to him..”
They all agreed and stood up. They slowly left the room, planning on getting things to clean it up a little, but Amane turned back for a moment and whispered.
“I hope you’re satisfied…”
He was still hungry.