Be born and let loose your first cry.

It wasn't a broken speaker. That noise that wouldn't stop was the distorted sound of his own breathing. The reason that it was dark even with his eyes open wasn't so simple as it being nighttime. A stagnant, oppressive darkness had settled at the bottom of the narrow bathtub.

The wet tiles were abrasive, and his knees ached from supporting the weight of his body. His hands slipped on the rim of the enamel tub as he tried to brace himself, and when he opened his mouth, all that came out was bubbles and a gurgling sound. The air that rushed out of his lungs felt like his life itself slipping away. He tried to inhale the bubbles to try and reclaim the air that he had exhaled, but it was to no avail.

Middle schooler Inukai Yuto, all at once, remembered that he was drowning in a bathroom.

"--- ou useless --- how many times do I have to tell y--"

The voice of his uncle echoed clearly in that small bathroom. A strange thought occurred to Yuto: sound really does travel well through water, huh?

His chest felt like it was about to burst as he struggled to breathe, and when he desperately tried to raise his head above the water, the hand of his uncle held him back down.

That's right. This was supposed to be "punishment".

After he had lost his parents in an accident, he had been taken in by his aunt and uncle, who had no children of their own. In that household, these "punishments" were just a fact of life. The word "useless" came out of his aunt and uncles' mouths regularly; for reasons that were unavoidable for someone young enough to still require an adult to take care of them, such as needing to spend money on him to keep him alive while he was unable to provide anything of value in return, he was subjected to violence on a daily basis. Even to the adopted child in question, it was clear that the real motive they had for taking him in was to gain access to his parents' inheritance.

His aunt and uncle seemed to have a particular fondness for water torture in the bathtub. To live, you need to breathe; this fact was stunningly obvious, and yet so simple a fact became agonizing. It was effective in its simplicity. A sharp pain stung at the back of his nose, and the murky water made his eyes burn. His chest grew tight and his vision grew blurry. The bathtub was filled with water, and that water was filled with the word that denied his personhood.

He was useless. Useless. Useless.

So it was just unavoidable that they would deny him food. It was just unavoidable that they would beat him. It was just unavoidable that they would drown him. It was just unavoidable that nobody would come to help him.

Since he was so completely useless, it was just unavoidable that he should die.

--- There's no way that's true.

It's just a big coffin, is what Yuto thought.

Every footstep echoed loudly as it struck the mortar floor, laid out like one big solid sheet of rock. The ivory walls were plain and unadorned; every cell in the communal block was sealed off with a thick and heavy iron door. He had seen plenty of detention centers during his time as a police officer, but the atmosphere here was something altogether different. It felt stagnant.

A prison was a place of punishment, but it was also a place for rehabilitation and reintegration into society. ^[0] He had read something about, just as important as strict adherence to the rules is the ability to empathize with other peoples' feelings, and it had encouraged him greatly in making the decision to change careers to become a prison guard.

The reason he had been considering becoming a prison guard was that while he was going through counseling while a member of the police force, he was made aware of the existence of a so-called "other personality" inside of him, and he became aware of its ferocity. Seeking an environment where he could manage his own dangerous tendencies, Yuto requested to be assigned to a prison inside Japan where "troubled" prisoners were incarcerated.

Although his initial impression of the position had been negative, the more he learned about the role, the more impressed he was by the ideals it was supposed to entail. They were to contribute to both the individual and to society by empathizing with peoples' mistakes, patiently working to connect with them, and encourage their rehabilitation.

If he could become a prison guard and be on the ground helping someone else to atone for their actions, it might be a sign of hope for someone like him. This was what Yuto thought.

But when he actually saw the prison-- the structure itself, which was supposed to be a place where people lived, was simply a huge stone coffin, serving only to keep those inside separated from the outside world.

Yuto had carefully read the disciplinary guidelines that he had been given, but by no stretch of the imagination was the prison actually being run in accordance with those rules. People shouted vicious insults at each other. Huge physical fights broke out several times a day. The guards were very strict with prisoners who tried to rebel, but they did nothing to intervene in disputes between prisoners, nor did they do anything about the regular breaking of rules.

At first, Yuto was taken aback by how far reality was from the ideal; but after some time, he slowly began to understand the true nature of the atmosphere that seemed to permeate every inch of this place.

It was despair.

It was as true for the guards as it was for the prisoners. They were all simply crammed together into this coffin of a prison, and when they vented their pent-up frustration, it just recirculated inside. There was nothing to strive towards. A sense of resignation-- that the future would never get any better than the present -- seeped into every inch of the prison, and a stagnant wind laden with pent-up resentment had nowhere to escape.

"It's really quite unfortunate, Inukai-san," a voice said. A senior guard who had been his mentor was walking alongside Yuto. When he had first arrived here, his fellow guard had been much more arrogant; but ever since a certain something had happened, he had begun using only very polite language towards Yuto. It felt like a strange kind of respect that he was receiving, and it made Yuto feel very ill at ease.

Even though the other guard was being very vague, Yuto understood exactly what he was implying. He shook his head.

"No, no, not at all. I'm still pretty inexperienced and I feel like I don't have much influence here, but if it's a job that they're going to entrust me with because they think I'm up to it, then I want to see it through to the end."

"You're way too earnest, Inukai-san. That's why they dump all the really annoying tasks on you without paying you extra for it."

"I don't think it's annoying at all?" Yuto gave a heartfelt smile. "To have such high expectations of me, even though I'm still a rookie guard... it's really an honor, I think."

When the conversation ended, only the thin sounds of their clicking footsteps echoed down the hallway. As they approached the large door, they could hear a veritable tidal wave of cheers. Apparently, the room had originally been designed as a hall to host events to entertain the inmates. But here, within this prison, the room had taken on something of a different connotation.

When they opened the heavy door, they were greeted by heat and tremendous vibration. The deep bass rumbled out from the old speakers. Bright lights shone down on the stage, and cigarette smoke swirled as the beams of light filtered through it. The prisoners raised their bottles of liquor and cheered uproariously. Though it was inside of a prison, the scene more resembled a live music venue on a busy weekend.

This was commonly known as "prison rap".

Once a month, the prisoners with rap skills competed on stage. During this event -- which was held to give the prisoners a chance to vent their frustrations -- alcohol, cigarettes, and any other form of recreation were all free game.

"It's over there."

Following the directions given to him by the senior guard, Yuto began to walk, weaving his way through the crowd of rowdy prisoners.

When he first learned about this prison rap, Yuto had been bewildered. He couldn't help but wonder if such a chaotic event should be allowed in a prison, a place that (he believed) was supposed to teach order and discipline and foster rehabilitation.

However, he had come to reconsider his opinion somewhat.

In whatever form it may take, the night was filled with a certain energy. Whether it was for those who were simply tired of their day-to-day routines, those who scorned lofty ideals, or those who had been ground down and brought to their knees-- it seemed to Yuto that this night seemed to have the power to convey that passion to everyone equally and make everyone look forward. If there was anything that had the power to affect a change in this suffocating and stagnant prison, perhaps it would be prison rap.

And so, Yuto was happy to take on the job that the director had personally assigned to him this time.

Past the crowd, he could see the red hair that he was looking for.

"Excuse me, sorry, could you please let me through?"

The excitement was immediately dampened; the prisoners frowned and turned to glare at Yuto-- and then, quickly, opened up a path for him. Their gazes on him were strangely intense.

It wasn't as though he were oblivious to why. When Yuto had first seen prison rap, he had instinctively tried to put a stop to it. His memory of that night was rather hazy, though, and by the time he had come to, the way that the other prison guards and the prisoners alike looked at him was very different.

From what he could tell from piecing other peoples' tellings of it together, it seemed that the so-called "other personality" inside of Yuto had decided to take charge and participate in the prison rap. ... Since he himself had the one who had taken the initiative to jump in and crash the party, he felt reluctant to simply dismiss this event out of hand. But, it had turned out well in the end. It was because of that that he was able to make contact with...

"Tosa-kun? Tosa Ryoga-kun!"

When Yuto called out, it was the crowd around Ryoga that rounded their gazes on him first. But, when they saw that it was him, their faces stiffened a little bit, and they immediately dispersed. What in the world did the other me do? Yuto wondered, feeling a little faint.

Then, Ryoga slowly raised his gaze from the label on the can of beer that he was holding to look at Yuto.

"... you wanna go?" There was a faint, low growl to his voice.

Ryoga and Yuto had first met during the last month's prison rap. Even before that, though, Yuto had looked through the profiles of all of the prisoners. He knew that Ryoga tended to be very short-spoken. With this in mind, Yuto carefully considered Ryoga's laconic words and tried not to misinterpret them.

"No. In fact, I actually didn't come here to rap tonight, you see."

"... then get lost... Tonight... is ours."

"Yes, I understand," said Yuto. "Last time, I wasn't aware of the situation in this prison and I jumped to conclusions; I apologize. But, since I am here, I thought that I would take the chance to tell you tonight..."

"... what?"

Yuto stood up a little straighter and beamed. "I will be aiding you, Tosa-kun, and the others with your rehabilitation as a special guidance officer. I will come to your rooms to collect you tomorrow morning, so please be sure you are ready within ten minutes after wake-up time at the most, alright?"

Ryoga, and all of the prisoners that surrounded him, just blinked for a moment.

Then, Ryoga's mouth fell open in disbelief, revealing his sharp canine teeth.

So I hear you just jumped headfirst into that annoying make-believe concert thing they insist on doing. Well, it's fine. We brought you -- since you've been a mercenary and a police officer, you're used to the rough stuff, of course? -- to deal with those troublemakers.

You've probably gotten the hang of the job by now. So, here's what I'm thinking. I'd like you to focus on dragging some inmates who've been a real pain in our necks back into shape. Specifically, these three...

The prison warden's words seemed a little bit too casual for the head of a rehabilitation facility; but even so, Yuto accepted his assignment in good spirits. Regardless of how it had been phrased, Yuto had been given the assignment specifically because of his background, and if the job was supposed to be focused on rehabilitating the inmates, then it was a job befitting a prison guard that he would be happy to fulfil.

So, on the first morning of his new job, Yuto arrived bright and early at Ryoga's solitary confinement cell.

"Good morning! Let's all have a super great day today!"

Ryoga's face always looked quite severe, and it looked even moreso when he furrowed his brow. "... cigarette."

"Yes, you are allowed to smoke so long as it's within the allotted time and limits. But after waking up, you're all supposed to get ready, clean up, and tidy up your rooms before the morning assembly, right?"

While doing his best to prevent Ryoga from completely ignoring him and reaching for a cigarette, Yuto ended up doing Ryoga's morning cleaning. "See? Do it just like this. You can start doing it yourself starting tomorrow!"

"..."

"... please just give it a try, okay~?"

Yuto wasn't expecting to readily receive a chipper yessir, but a truly awkward atmosphere hung in the air. However, nothing would ever begin if a prison guard allowed himself to be intimidated by a prisoner.

He stayed alongside Ryoga to wait for the morning roll call, and then they ate breakfast together. Compared to the Prison Rap nights, when no holds were barred and everything was on the table, Ryoga seemed rather miffed at the simple meal that sat in front of him. Regardless, he picked up his chopsticks. Yuto was distinctly disappointed at the way that he picked around and refused to eat the shiitake mushrooms.

After breakfast, the other prisoners headed off to do their prison labor. Yuto called out to Ryoga, who was not moving.

"Well, then, Tosa-kun. If you've got some free time, would you mind keeping me company for a bit?"

"... ... what?"

"To tell you the truth," said Yuto, "there are others who I'm supposed to be supervising as well. Kaida Shion-kun and Mikoshiba Kenta-kun. Neither of them shows up for prison labor very often, and I thought maybe you might know where they are, Tosa-kun...?"

Ryoga's expression was a complicated one. It was a mix of why me? irritation and they expect you, of all people, to deal with all three of us? exasperation.

Yuto wondered for a moment if perhaps he had come on a bit too strong, but to his surprise, eventually, Ryoga stood up.

"... let's go." His cold gaze seemed to harbor a sense of detachment, as if to say, I don't think those guys would bother with me.

Compared to the typical prison, this prison was under high security, and had very few windows to the outside. The sakura trees outside (which had been planted by the welfare organization, with the hopes that the inmates would be able to feel the changing of the seasons even from within from within these walls) went, for the most part, unseen by the prisoners. The prison's clock ticked with exact precision, but the passage of time seemed to drag by extremely slowly-- perhaps because they were so cut off from the outside world.

As they walked past the other prisoners, who looked listless as they trudged off to their assigned prison labor, Yuto spoke to Ryoga in a conversational, casual tone.

"You know, now that I think about it," said Yuto, "I suppose you like rap, just like a lot of people here do, don't you, Tosa-kun?"

"..."

"Is there a reason for that?" said Yuto. "A reason for doing rap, or what got you started...?"

"... do you?"

"Oh, me? I guess I've listened to it about as much as anyone, since I was a kid... but I've never really thought about trying my own hand at it. To tell the truth, I've actually tried to imitate some songs that I've liked a few times, but I think I don't really have any talent for it, haha..."

"... what?" Ryoga's lips curled, revealing his gums, in a bewildered expression. Then, after thinking for a moment, he closed his mouth.

Ryoga never answered Yuto's question.

"Oh, you're kidding, right...?"

It was probably after something had already happened. Ryoga told Yuto you're on your own from here, and so he proceeded alone down the corridor to a storage room.

In that storage room, Kaida Shion was sitting comfortably atop a stack of mattresses. It looked like a beautiful white snake coiled in upon itself, or a Baroque painting that depicted a queen's bedchamber. As Yuto drew closer, a light, sweet scent wafted towards him. It was a smell not unlike that of imported foreign cigarettes; the scent tickled and caressed Yuto's nose before it faded gently away.

"... oh, it's just you." A pause. "I'm taking it easy right now, can't you tell?"

"This is a disciplinary violation whether I can 'tell' or not, Kaida-kun. This area is not to be used for personal purposes."

"Don't be such a killjoy," said Shion. "Unlike the others, I'm not causing any trouble... I think it's better to experience all kinds of things while you're young, don't you? Deep connections with people, things like that..."

"Ah, I'm fine, thank you... I'm getting on in years, myself, so it's probably a bit late for me..." said Yuto.

Shion furrowed his brow slightly. "How old are you?"

"I'll be thirty-two this year," said Yuto.

"You're lying. For a grown man, you've got a serious baby face..."

"Urgh..." For a man past a certain age, being called "young" or "immature" hurts far more than being called "old". Yuto continued, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Kaida-kun. It looks like you're done with... whatever you came here to do, so would you mind accompanying me for a bit? Tosa-kun is waiting outside."

"I see how it is," said Shion. "You want to make this a threesome."

"Ah, I guess that's how you're going to take it..." Dealing with this was a very different kind of trouble from dealing with Ryoga. Yuto scratched his cheek with his index finger in a nervous gesture. Then, he crouched down to meet Shion's gaze where he sat.
"Kaida-kun, this is a place for rehabilitation. There are no rules that prohibit romance, per se, but you still have to follow the rules regarding moral behavior."

Shion involuntarily let out a burst of laughter.

"'Romance'? What language is that?"

Narrowing his red eyes, Shion stroked his own cheek with his white fingertips. His scaly skin gleamed, practically emitting an eerie glow in the darkness.

With a troubled smile, Yuto continued the conversation. "... I think," he said, "that getting closer to people and having physical contact is quite reassuring."

"Isn't it? It's just the same as cigarettes or alcohol. Love or whatever has nothing to do with it."

"But then, Kaida-kun," said Yuto, "if it's not for a romantic relationship, that's all the more reason to stop, isn't it?"

"Hah? What? Are you a big shoujo manga fan or something?"

"A relationship without any emotional connection... well, it's like, even if the skin is warm, this still feels lonely, doesn't it?" Yuto said, tapping his own chest.

Shion was momentarily stunned.

"It may be fun in the moment, but it's very risky behavior," said Yuto. "Please take care of both your mind and your body."

"Why should I bother taking care of a body like this?"

"Of course you should bother to take care of it. You've only got one body, after all." Yuto's expression was somewhat troubled, but he managed to avoid his voice wavering.

For a moment, Shion's eyes were wide open, as though he were frozen in place. His pale pupils constricted, as though he were looking at something too bright. Then, with a voice adrip with bewilderment, Shion spoke in a slightly dazed voice.

"So, what was it you wanted me to do?"

Mikoshiba Kenta, too, was kept in solitary confinement.

Normally, solitary confinement was for special reasons, such as preemptively preventing trouble for or with the other prisoners. While it made sense for Ryoga, who was the type to command respect and compliance from those around him, and Shion, who posed a risk to moral behavior, Kenta's situation was far more unusual.

His main charge, according to the extant classifications, was creation of unauthorized electromagnetic records, et al^[1], and his sentence was imprisonment for life.

While normally, this would not be the case, it was all because Kenta possessed an extraordinary talent, which this made him entirely too dangerous in the modern day and age. Under the guise of "special electromagnetic prison labor", Kenta was cooperating with various cybercrime investigations from within the prison... apparently. So it seemed on the surface, at any rate.

So then what were the game controller and gaming headphones doing in his room? Yuto didn't entirely understand.

"Mikoshiba-kun... Mikoshiba-kun!"

Kenta had been staring very intently at the screen and furiously typing away at the keyboard for quite some time. Right when Yuto called out to him, he threw the wired mouse that he had been using in frustration.

"Goddammit! What's with this guy fucking throwing for the other team and forcing me to play such a garbage game first thing in the morning! Why the hell are you even awake!? I'm fucking begging you to go break your fingers or rip your LAN cable out of the wall and fucking uninstall!"

"Mikoshiba-kun!? You've been playing video games all morning!?"

"Hah? When the fuck else would I game if not in the morning, you clueless dumbass? The servers are clogged with children during the afternoon so you can't get a decent match. How the fuck are you even managing to live your life without understanding something as simple as that?"

"Well, that's not exactly what I meant, but..."

Yuto kind of understood now why Ryoga had taken him to fetch Shion first, and leaving Kenta for last even though he knew that he would be in his room. It seemed that Kenta was extremely upset.

The name †Jet Black Sinner† was displayed on the computer screen. Yuto was impressed that he avoided using anything resembling his real name, displaying a good amount of internet safety literacy, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was really a good idea to become very stressed over a game that should have been a way to relax and unwind.

"So, the hell you want," said Kenta. "I've got a busy schedule to attend to of breezing through this season's ranks so I can get a screenshot and mog on the idiots on social media."

At Kenta's prompting, Yuto remembered what he had come for.

"Ah, yes. Starting today, Mikoshiba-kun, I've been assigned as your mentor, so I came to retrieve you."

"Hah? I'm good, pass. 'Mentor'? Why? The fuck is some half-wit chimpanzee going to be able to teach me? You gonna hit me with a sample case of inference scaling that improves on existing multimodal RAG models? Will my performance really, truly improve with the trash-ass computing resources that the mouths that inhale garbage all day spew out?"

It seemed that he was in a particularly foul mood.

When people who knew a lot about a subject were angry, they tended to use a lot of words that the other person wouldn't understand, in order to try and intimidate or corner them. Yuto clearly recalled one of the career police inspectors from back in his time in the police force using the exact same method to back his older subordinates into a corner.

"Um... I'm sorry, but I must admit I don't really understand gamer lingo..."

"Hah? Oh, goddammit. What part of that sounded like gamer lingo to you?"

"I... I'm very sorry. I'm not very familiar with these things. B-but, you see, as a prison guard, the reason I came here is to help reintegrate you into society..."

"Hah! Reintegration into society? I'm gonna laugh so hard I think I might fucking pop a lung. Piss off and get lost. I'll do the online investigation stuff later."

"... hey. You done yet?"

"It's like I said. It's so hard to get Shibaken's attention when he's caught up in a game."

Kenta was on a roll and wasn't done talking. But perhaps because it had taken so long, Ryoga and Shion had gotten tired of waiting and came into the room, looking impatient. Yuto gestured with his hands for everyone to please remain calm as he continued to patiently engage with Kenta.

"Mikoshiba-kun, it's true that computer-based work is something that only you can do, but that alone will not suffice to..."

"Cram it! The next match is about to start so fuck off."

"In order to be rehabilitated, you'll need to do a job that involves more communication with other people..."

"How many times I do I have to say you're pissing me off! If you've got nothing better to do, then go get me an energy drink, you useless piece of shit!"

"Phew! It's certainly a lovely day today, isn't it!"

It was a little over ten minutes later. The three prisoners and Yuto were standing together under a clear blue sky.

When had come to his senses, he realized that Kenta's face was pale, and his hair and clothes were disheveled. Ryoga's body was covered in scrapes, and Shion was clutching his shoulder. He didn't know what had happened, but the solitary confinement cell had become a total wreck, with a bent, overturned gamer chair in the middle of it. There were signs that someone had tried to protect the electronics from whatever had happened, as they had been frantically shoved into the corner.

Yuto's memory was pretty foggy, so he didn't know what had happened, but the three prisoners were finally doing as they were told, so they would be able to accomplish the goals set out for them that day.

"... so, what are we supposed to be doing. I've already got a bad feeling about this," said Kenta, looking dejected.

"Yes! This whole area was originally meant to be an expansion to the exercise grounds for the prisoners to use. But... due to a staff shortage and disagreements over the budget for hiring a contractor, it's ended up being completely overgrown."

"What's your point?"

"And so, today, we'll be mowing the grass in this area."

"What!? You can't possibly mean we're doing this by hand!? We're supposed to mow this whole damn area with a worn-out sickle!?" Kenta's voice of disbelief rang out clearly all around them.

As the last echoes of his voice faded away, Shion -- who had been staying in the shade and wearing a straw hat -- raised his hand. "Yeah, I'm not really good with sunlight."

"Yes! So I've decided that you will be working indoors. Tosa-kun and Mikoshiba-kun, you two will be mowing the grass, and Kaida-kun, you'll be wiping down the inside of the warehouse right over there."

"But I don't want to??"

"Today's job is classified as 'special prison labor', and guess what! Because it's not a part of your regular prison labor duties, your participation will be highly appreciated as volunteer work on the part of the inmates. I think we can get it done in one day if we just knuckle down, so let's do our best!"

"... you're really mealy-mouthed," Shion muttered, "but you don't take no for an answer, do you..." He frowned, his expression disgusted. "You can't expect us to do things like this every day?"

"Not at all. This special prison labor is something to be done once a week," said Yuto. "Actually, I'd like to have it on the schedule more often, but the application and post-reporting is pretty complicated, and there's a lot of paperwork I'd have to file... I also have to keep doing my regular job duties, as well, so I think once a week is just about right."

"Even once a week is way too often," Shion objected.

Everyone was making their dissatisfaction very apparent. But, Yuto supposed, the reason that they weren't putting up more of a fight was because of whatever had occurred during that span of time where Yuto's memory was blank.

Even he understood that whatever had happened, it had been violent.

Of course, it was hardly something to celebrate. In fact, it was always quite harrowing. Every time he came back to his senses, the sights that greeted Yuto always sent chills down his spine.

However, prison was not the same as school. Yuto knew that guards had to have some form of proverbial "whip" with which to discipline the prisoners. Unfortunately, he himself did not have any such a "whip", or the harshness that would be expected of a supervisor. But, what mattered most was how to encourage their rehabilitation, and Yuto's own feelings on the matter were not a part of the equation at all. Therefore Yuto had concluded that the actions of "other him" -- as long as it had already happened -- were simply necessary as a means to an end.

Though he definitely appeared to be quite soft-hearted, he had already overcome a great many hardships by the time he turned thirty. Yuto knew how to be a mature adult, how to keep his priorities straight, and how to make pragmatic decisions.

"Alright! The sooner you get to work, the sooner you'll finish. I'll help out too, so let's all do our best out there!" Yuto said, clapping his hands together.

It took a good ten seconds for any of the prisoners to start moving.

Ryoga was the first to slowly start moving, and Kenta followed with some reluctance. As he had been told to, Shion sulked off towards the dark warehouse. Yuto swore he saw the flash of a cigarette case. He called out, "No smoking, please!" He received only a white hand waving dismissively in return.

White clouds drifted across the morning's bright blue sky. The sun was shining, and the wind was dry. If you took a deep breath, you took in the scent of the grass and the earth.

The sickles that they had were the type that could be used while standing, but the blades had grown rusty and dull. It required some force and several sharp, swift cuts in order to use properly. Ryoga, who was quite strong, didn't seem to be having much trouble, but Kenta was clearly struggling.

"Mikoshiba-kun, for the softer grass, how about we switch to a shorter sickle and start using our free hand to help out?" Yuto suggested.

"Pain in the ass... wouldn't it be way faster to just do this with a machine?"

"I agree," said Yuto, "but our prison has really high security regulations around dangerous goods, so I wasn't able to get permission to borrow any lawnmowers. And besides that, considering that this is regarded as special work, it's taken into account that the work is done by hand..."

Kenta frowned in plain disgust. Then, he pointedly raised the blade of his sickle and looked at Yuto. "So if we're talking about 'dangerous goods', wouldn't this sickle count?" he said. "You dumbass prison guard. You handed knives to three prisoners; you're surrounded now, aren't you?"

Kenta laughed menacingly, and Yuto just blinked a couple times.

"Well, I suppose that's true. But I'm not really worried, sickles really aren't really that threatening..."

"Ooh, what a big man. Don't you worry that the Grim Reaper's gonna sneak up behind you with his scythe?"

"Well, as long as you're aware of your surroundings, you'll know if someone's approaching from behind you," said Yuto. "Nobody's carrying guns, so there's no real need to be worried about anything on the ground or from the shade of the trees."

Kenta was struck dumb; Ryoga spoke up in his place.

"You. Before you came here. What did you do."

"I was a police officer," said Yuto promptly.

"... you weren't a regular cop, were you? ... That... special forces, or whatever."

"Not at all," said Yuto. "But before I joined the police, I was deployed overseas by a private military company."

"So in other words, former mercenary," Kenta muttered sourly and then slunk back to work.

Shion, who had been eavesdropping from inside the warehouse, narrowed his eyes in understanding.

Ryoga seemed to be deep in thought, moving his standing sickle to cut the grass in automatic motions. Every time the sickle blade swiped across the ground, a large chunk of grass was sliced away.

"You're quite good at this, Tosa-kun!" said Yuto.

"No, this is just... muscle strength."

"No, you can't wield a scythe well with just muscle strength alone," said Yuto. "It's a matter of practice, too, right? Tosa-kun, I think you must have some experience doing this kind of work seriously."

"... tch." Ryoga clicked his tongue and glared at Yuto. "... ... but, you."

"Huh?"

"Why'd you come here. You were a solider, then a policeman... and you gave all of that up to be a prison guard. That's a weird career path."

"... that's right. I think so, too," said Yuto. A ladybug was resting on the tip of a blade of grass that he was about to cut. Yuto ushered it onto his fingertip and released it in an area that didn't need cutting. "I always thought that the proper place for myself was behind bars."

"Hah? Then why not just come here as a prisoner, then?" Kenta, who had been listening in, barged back into the conversation. "If you'd just caused some sort of incident out there in public like you did earlier, you'd be arrested in a heartbeat, right?"

"That's right," said Yuto. "In truth, I ought to be the one bound up in shackles... but, I can't commit a crime on purpose just for the purposes of getting caught. So I decided I'd come to a place where I can put my particular skills to use." Yuto returned to his patch of grass and continued to tend to the grounds with his own scythe. "I'll send the rest of my life here. And my goal is to help as many people as possible return to the world outside these walls."

He sensed that Kenta's hands had suddenly stopped moving. When Yuto looked up, Kenta was standing still in the overgrown grass.

"'Return to the world outside'?" said Kenta.

"Mikoshiba-kun?"

"If that's what you're after, then all the more reason that I shouldn't have to do this shit. No point." And Kenta took off.

As Yuto moved to follow him, Shion called out to him.

"You're going to want to stop right there. That one's on you. Shibaken's on a functional life sentence through an extra-legal measure; I think he's not finding your spiel too funny."

"... I am aware of Mikoshiba-kun's situation," said Yuto. Shion's gaze, reaching out from the shade, was cold. He had an already-lit cigarette in his hand. Instead of chastising him, Yuto met his eyes and continued. "No matter the circumstances, it's one step at a time. We'll let those who are able to move forward take it step by step. That's what prisons are supposed to be... not just places to lock people up."

"If that's the case, Shibaken's one of those people who can't move forward, no?"

"He can move forward!" Yuto said, his voice filled with a sudden unusual passion. "Back when I first arrived at this job... I was completely clueless, and I almost got beaten by the crowd, but Mikoshiba-kun saved me. ... no matter what he insists, he saved me. I think people like that can definitely keep moving forward. Even if the road is long. ... Kaida-kun, Tosa-kun. I think the same applies to you, too."

"You're certainly optimistic," said Shion. "Why do you have that much faith in people?"

"... because I hope it's true." Yuto stopped for a moment, took two deep breaths, and then turned around with a smile. "Kaida-kun, please put out your cigarette. Now is not the time to be smoking openly."

And with that, Yuto took off after Kenta.

Shion, left standing right where he was, exhaled smoke out of the shade and into the sunlight. He called out to Ryoga. "So, what do you think? About all of that."

"... what a dumbass." Ryoga ran his sickle over the ground. He gathered up all of the weeds that had been swiped away, as if someone had taken an eraser to them, and gathered them up haphazardly. He mumbled as if talking to himself. "He's a dumbass, but... that night. That rap was the real deal. That's the only thing I'm interested in."

"I thought you were being unusually sociable. But, I suppose that's what I've been wondering about, too," said Shion. "That was certainly a surprise, wasn't it? And when he had Shibaken in a stranglehold earlier. You think he's got a split personality or something?"

"... dunno. But whatever he's got going on. It's gotta be something."

"Well, going from a mercenary to a prison guard... I can only assume that something really serious must have happened," said Shion.

"Don't care about his... resume, or whatever," said Ryoga. "... but, you can't fake rap. Split personality or not... his true nature's the same. He's..."

"Seems like neither version of him is the type to lie, right?" Shion said, thinking back on their encounter in the storage room. "... so, want to put a bet down on whether Shibaken will come back?"

Ryoga didn't reply. Shion put out his cigarette, which he had only just begun to smoke, under the heel of his shoe.

"Mikoshiba-kun, please wait!"

Kenta wasn't particularly fast, and besides, there was nowhere he could run to. Catching up to him was easy.

"I ain't waiting, asshole! I already told you, there's no point in me doing any of that shit!"

"Ah, I-I'm sorry. Mikoshiba-kun, I'm very sorry for my insensitive remarks..."

"That's not gonna cut it!" Kenta snapped. "If you're really sorry, then get down in dogeza and beg!"

"... --!"

There were other prisoners working outdoors, and other guards keeping a watch over them. So, Kenta noticed after a moment that there was a bit of a commotion all around him. When he turned around, he saw Yuto with his forehead pressed against the ground.

"... -- what the hell are you doing?!"

"Ah, allow me to start again... I am very sorry. I did not consider your feelings, Mikoshiba-kun, and I chose my words carelessly," said Yuto.

"... seriously? Fucking pathetic," Kenta muttered. "... what's the point in getting down in dogeza just because someone tells you to? Aren't you ashamed of yourself? Take some fucking responsibility..."

"I am not being irresponsible." Yuto remained in dogeza, but his voice, echoing against the ground, rang out strongly underneath the clear blue sky. "I said something insensitive, but I am not being irresponsible. As guards, we are responsible for everyone's rehabilitation. We must never forget that fact."

"... and I already told you, there's no point. I'm not getting rehabilitated. So fuck off and leave me alone."

"I will not leave you alone." Yuto raised his head from the ground. "It's true that your situation is complicated, Mikoshiba-kun. But even so... until something changes, until a path opens up, all you can do is keep looking forward steadily. We just have to take things one step at a time."

"... even if you're going to talk all high and mighty about 'looking forward', how the hell am I supposed to do that?" Kenta said. "Nobody in this whole shitty world will ever tell me what way 'forward' even is! Why else do you think I'm in a shithole like this!?"

"Teaching you that is my way of taking responsibility."

Kenta glanced around. The other prisoners, who had been watching the situation unfold with bewilderment, all quickly averted their eyes.

Kenta turned back to the one gaze that remained unaverted and bit his lip. "... how long do you plan to stay on your knees? Fucking eyesore." And with that, Kenta began walking briskly. He headed in the direction where they had left Ryoga and Shion.

This was a step forward, for sure, but it was a very, very small one.

Unbeknownst to them, beyond the thick walls of this prison, the world was continuing to spin at a dizzying pace. The legendary CLUB paradox had been revived. The phantom live music scene was having a new wave of frenzied excitement. Compared to the speed of the world outside, the hands of the clocks that ticked inside the prison may as well have been standing still.

"Agh, so damn boring!"

A voice cut through the deep bass.

It was yet another night of prison rap, and Yuto was currently working it as a guard and supervisor. On the stage, Ryoga and another prisoner were engaged in a rap battle. The stomping feet of the excited crowd trembled the entire room like an earthquake.

Amidst the heated excitement of the night, Kenta's eyes remained cold. His eyes weren't fixed on stage, but rather on the laptop he had on his lap.

While most of the guards were ignoring the commotion, Yuto picked up Kenta's voice while he was on patrol.

"Mikoshiba-kun, aren't you going to have a turn? Rapping, I mean."

"Not tonight," Kenta said. "I've already gone up against Ryoga-chan, and there's nobody else who's going to entertain me at all."

"But standing on stage feels nice," came Shion's voice from right beside them. When Yuto turned to look, there Shion was, puffing on a cigarette. Amidst the cloud of the sweet scent, Yuto blinked rapidly.

"You like rap, don't you?" Yuto said. "Both of you do, I mean, not just Tosa-kun."

Kenta raised only his eyes, not moving his head, as he replied. "It's fun to wail on weaklings who are all talk and no substance. But if the only thing you ever hunt is easy pickings, it gets boring."

"Honestly, we don't have any competition inside these walls, do we?" Shion said, his dry laugh mixing together with the smoke he exhaled. "Ryoga's just going so hard because he's not satisfied with what he's getting. It's like being so hungry you keep chewing on gum well after it's stopped having any flavor."

As Shion explained, Yuto's eyes were on the stage. Ryoga's rap was truly passionate. But it was hard to deny that it had a tinge of frustration to it. Yuto -- who didn't have many hobbies that involved competing with others -- found the culture of rap battle a little bit opaque. He supposed that what they meant was that he wasn't feeling challenged.

The hierarchy within the prison had already been set in stone before Yuto had ever arrived. You could probably say that nothing changed. Of course, new prisoners were brought in, but the chances of them being rappers who were capable of going toe to toe with Ryoga and the others was slim.

Suddenly, Yuto had a question. "I don't know much about rap, but... Mikoshiba-kun, Kaida-kun, you're really good rappers, aren't you? Between you and Tosa-kun, you hold all of the top three ranks in the prison."

Kenta raised one eyebrow and smirked. "It's like we already told you. We've got no competition. Not just within these walls, but in this entire world full of idiots, there's nobody who can rap better than us."

"Ah, so you say you've got no competition outside, either..." Yuto said.

"All the more, honestly," Kenta said. "The limp-ass rap of guys who came up in the sun is hardly real music at all."

"You say that, Shibaken, but doesn't it seem kind of interesting? That's why you're interested in that, right?" Shion said, bending down and peering at Kenta's computer screen.

Yuto followed suit and crouched down as well. Kenta scowled, but Yuto just tilted his head. "What's this?" said Yuto.

"It's the Paradox Live. I'm sure you've heard about it if you haven't been living under a rock," said Kenta.

"Ah... yes, of course I'm aware of it. That legendary club reopened and they held a big event for rappers. The winners were those twin rappers, cozmez..."

"That's old news. Keep the fuck up. Are you still using a 3G connection, too?" Kenta said, and he turned his computer screen towards Yuto.

Before him was an image of a large flyer advertisement. Yuto read the most prominent text out loud. "'Paradox Live... Road to Legend'?"

"It's the next event," Kenta said. "This time, the great legendary Buraikan have been revived and they're going to give their personal approval to the rappers they recognize as the next legends."

"Oh, wow... so this is the second event? Well, I'm sure you're very interested in it, seeing as you're rappers," Yuto said.

"Kind of. Part of it is that I don't think people should be spouting off about making legends or whatever in shallow waters where they haven't seen what we're capable of."

Shion flicked his cigarette ashes into his portable ashtray. "In big venues like that, I could also probably get in touch with a lot more people. I won't say I'm not interested in that, too..."
Shion's gaze turned to Ryoga. His battle was already over, and he was being showered in the cheers and applause of the other prisoners. And yet, Ryoga was still roaring. He practically howled at the thick walls and the heavy ceiling. Shion laughed as he listened to his rough baying. "I wonder how far outside these walls that howling reaches. I can't deny I'm curious."

Following Shion's gaze, Yuto looked up at the stage.

"A case study for a prison publishing procedure...? Is, uh, what you said you wanted to know about?"

It was in the office. The eyes of the familiar senior prison guard grew wide as he looked at the request. Yuto had the thought that it was unnecessary for the guard to speak politely to him, but he wouldn't stop doing it.

The senior guard looked back at Yuto, looking a little troubled. "I don't know of any... at least, none since I became a guard. Why? Is there someone you know who wants to become a writer or something, Inukai-san?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that, per se," said Yuto, shaking his head. He continued. "Watching the prison rap made me think. Rap is a creative exercise, isn't it? Even though it's supposed to be a way for them to unwind, it's definitely the thing that the prisoners get most excited about... so I was thinking, maybe, we could find a way to share their rap."

"... huh?" The senior guard gave Yuto a puzzled look. "... you know, now that I think about it, Inukai-san, the warden saddled you with looking after those three guys, didn't he? They hold the top three ranks in prison rap-- is that what spurs this?"

"Yes, exactly!" said Yuto. "I think that rap is a very positive motivator for them. So I was wondering if we could somehow use their passion as a stepping stone in their rehabilitation."

"... hm." The senior guard made a face that seemed to suggest that he thought Yuto had a point. Then, slightly hesitatingly, he spoke. "I think this would be difficult even for you, Inukai-san. I can't imagine that any major record company would take them on, and there's not a precedent for it even in the indie scene. ... however..."

"'However'?"

"I feel like I've heard of some kind of similar story before, somewhere... what was it, again...?"

In the end, Yuto got no more specific information out of the senior guard. However, at least he had gotten some leads. That night, after he had finished his regular duties, Yuto obtained permission to gain access to the prison's database.

The keyword that he was looking for was Correctional Bureau.

The prison at which Yuto worked was in a somewhat unique position. It housed prisoners who had special and extenuating circumstances, not just those who had committed serious crimes -- Kenta was one such example. As a result, it received a considerable amount of attention from government officials, and was often the subject of scrutiny, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say it was often the subject of discussion.

The Correctional Bureau was -- as the name implied -- the organization that oversaw the rehabilitation of prisoners, and that undertook various initiatives aimed at reintegration into society and for proposing rehabilitation projects to bureaucrats and politicians.

In the modern day, phantom lives were a major movement that was becoming intertwined with society as a whole. Even in this very prison, there was the prison rap culture that carried significant social weight. So, Yuto thought, it wouldn't be too hard to imagine a bureaucrat who shared his perspective.

Searching through the database, Yuto found several filenames that could have been potential leads, but the details had not been digitized. Ultimately, he had to submit for permission all over again and rifle through paper documents in the physical archives.

The dilapidated and neglected state of the archives really spoke to exactly how much this prison had (or hadn't) done to rehabilitate its inmates. But even so, Yuto didn't view this hunt as a hardship. The names he'd seen in the database were like a beacon of hope cutting through the clutter.

And finally, around the time that the sun was rising outside of the prison walls, Yuto found a brown envelope. It was tied with a string, and on it were stamped the words "Music-Based Prisoner Rehabilitation Project".

"I've told you already. Give it a rest already, Inukai-kun."

Yuto had lost track of how many times the prison director had given him the same answer, but he had no intention of backing down just yet.

"Director, I think this project is absolutely feasible!" he argued. "The reason the prisoners can't commit to their rehabilitation is because they've given up in their hearts. But with music... with rap, I think they can move forward!"

"It's true that I entrusted those three to you," said the director, "but I didn't expect you to fish up some nonsense plan like this. Do you have any idea how much groundwork and preparation we'd have to do to make a project like that happen?" Yuto's gaze was fixed on the director, but it seemed to go straight through him. As the warden spoke, he carefully filed the nail on his neatly-trimmed pinky finger. "I imagine that the supervisor who came up with the plan was taking it very seriously, either. You know... cooking up unactionable ideas is part of the job. It's just part of being a bureaucrat... you know what I mean?"

"I don't think that's true..."

"I understand using music to help with the prisoners' mental health," said the director. "But trying to participate in external events in the name of rehabilitation... and what's more, some Parachute Live^[2] thing? Absolutely not; that's out of the question. There would be no way we could let a bunch of criminals just leave the prison."

"Well, I would be supervising them closely the entire time," said Yuto.

"And I'm telling you it's impossible. You'll just keep earning points for your reports the same as you have been."

There was a moment of silence. Just as the director blew away the shavings from filing his fingernails, Yuto spoke up again.

"... but hypothetically. Hypothetically, if we were to have them participate in an external event, what would be necessary for that?"

"You're a real pain of a man, you know." The director met Yuto's eyes with a weary gaze.

What Yuto wanted was to help the prisoners move forward. He wanted to create a stepping stone in their path to rehabilitation. Yuto couldn't understand why the director seemed so ready to reject something that would be the obvious right thing to do for their prison.

The director put the file away in his desk and sighed heavily.

"Well, here's the thing. I won't stop you from handling all of the procedures and arrangements on your own, if you insist," he said. "But at the absolute minimum, if you want to take them outside, then... the first thing you would need is to be granted permission to leave, right?"

"Yessir."

"Getting that approved is no easy feat," said the director. "After all, what you're asking to do is to get criminals released into society, even temporarily. The least you would need is to have a record of evaluation that would show that they've undergone significant signs of rehabilitation... something that would make them make them qualify as model prisoners--"

"Then if they are model prisoners," said Yuto, leaning forward and placing his hands on the director's desk. The warden was shocked into silence. "If they become model prisoners, then it would be possible. ... am I correct in assuming that?"

"If, and only if, those three dirtbags could pull off something like that. But at the rate they're going, I highly doubt they'd be able to make that kind of turnaround in time for that... Pair-of-Socks thing, whatever it is." The director's words were spat out with a look of sheer irritation. It was as though he were suggesting that pigs may as well start flying.

But it didn't matter to Yuto. No matter how faint the hope was, it was still a ray of light for him. And besides, even if it was difficult, his task was simple. He was to encourage their rehabilitation for reintegration into society. His goal hadn't changed at all.

"I'll make it happen," said Yuto. "I'll take this on as my responsibility."

And from that day on, Yuto became even more enthusiastic in his work.

"Wh-what. Is... this...?" groaned Ryoga.

At any rate, they still needed to earn points for their evaluations. The best option for that was still special prison labor, and since it was difficult for Shion to go outside, Yuto needed to find as much work as possible that could be done indoors.

And so, this day's work was indoors, but as Ryoga put on the work clothes he had been given, there was a sizable vein throbbing in his forehead. Yuto was the only one smiling as he explained today's task.

"Today, we'll be making sweets together. Let's all do our best!"

"Why the FUCK is the point of this!?" Kenta, wearing an apron with a very cool print on it, threw his headscarf to the counter in a rage. "We're just being used as fucking temp work doing odd jobs for a senbei shop! What's the point of putting on all of this bullshit when all we're doing is sticking nori on fucking crackers!?"

"W-well, that may be so, but aprons and headscarves are functional work attire whenever you're handling food."

"I don't know, Shibaken, your apron is sort of stylish in a way, isn't it? Is that a drawing of a dragon?" Shion laughed, his cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He looked remarkably good wearing an apron. The calligraphy reading 江戸前 ^[3] and the illustration of sushi had a strong presence, but they were completely dwarfed by Shion's allure.

At the sight of Shion, Yuto's shoulders slumped. "Kaida-kun... please don't start smoking right away. We'll have to throw away any senbei that smell like cigarettes."

"Then maybe the fastest way to get done here would be to just make them all smell like cigarettes?" Shion said. "... but, I suppose I'm getting to see something much more interesting than I expected, so I suppose I can live with it." As he spoke, Shion's gaze turned to Ryoga. An apron with an absolutely adorable panda mascot was being pushed up and stretched quite a bit across his well-developed chest muscles. Shion turned back to Yuto. "Where'd you get this crap from?"

"All of the aprons we have were surplus or donated by private companies... I tried to select only the ones that were the nicest, so the patterns are random. ... -- aah!!"

Ryoga threw aside the panda apron and snatched the plain one that Yuto was wearing, putting it on at once.

It was a bit small, making the fit even tighter, but it was definitely an improvement from before.

"Let's just get those over with..." said Ryoga.

"Yeah," said Shion. "This kind of mindless work, you'll go crazy if you don't just zone out."

"I'm gonna have to grind something out, I may as well play that trash fire game that everyone was dunking on the other day," Kenta complained.

The three of them lined up at the counter, sticking sheets of nori onto the senbei and transferring them from tray to tray. Shion -- who was used to rolling his own cigarettes -- was doing it very smoothly, and Ryoga was also turning out to be quite skilled. Kenta was the only one who was lagging, but it seemed less like he was actually struggling and more that he wasn't putting in the effort to do it correctly. Just doing things half-heartedly wouldn't earn him any points for his report. Yuto quickly and helpfully pointed this out to him.

"Mikoshiba-kun, please be sure that the nori is more like a perfect square when you stick it on, okay?"

"It's all gonna taste the same, isn't it?" Kenta shot back. "And besides that, I thought this special prison labor stuff was only supposed to be once a week. Feels like we've been doing it every day lately. That wasn't part of the deal."

"That's because if we do it every day, it will show that everyone's rehabilitation is coming along well," said Yuto.

"Oh, I see, the shitty prison guard's just brownnosing for a good evaluation. ... but why the hell are the two of you working so obediently?" Kenta glanced at the other two prisoners, who were working silently, even though they looked bored while they did.

"... if we slack off," said Ryoga, "Inukai gets more annoying..."

"He's been really on our asses lately," Shion said. "He's almost as persistent as some rich chick who won't go away even though you only hooked up with her once on a whim."

"... when I'm working out, he keeps hovering around me... he's like a fly that won't go away..."

"He came sniffing around the place where I was going to have a little hookup with someone. He's like a stalker. How about you, Shibaken?"

"He kept peering over my shoulder and looking at what I was playing," said Kenta, "and he kept reacting like an old man."

"Don't you three think you're being a little harsh in your opinions of me...?"

Three pairs of eyes pierced straight through Yuto, silently pinning all the blame on him. Yuto slumped his shoulders as if to say aw, geeze, practically looking like a cartoon character. But, he supposed, it was fine. It's okay if Yuto had to play the bad guy, as long as the three of them were working together.

And so the days continued, and they continued to carry out special prison labor jobs. Sometimes, they washed old work clothes; other times, they had to keep busy carving folk art out of wood. There were days, too, where Yuto had to chase after them as they tried to ditch work because they found it to be too much trouble. He was glared at by Ryoga, took the brunt of Shion's annoyance for attempting to interrupt a tryst, and searched everywhere to try and find a Kenta who was nowhere to be found. But -- perhaps just because they were just being worn down by Yuto's persistence -- the three of them gradually began to cooperate with him more readily.

All the while, Yuto's own workload absolutely skyrocketed exponentially. In addition to all of his regular duties, he was supervising, recording, and reporting on the special prison work; collecting documents to obtain permits for leave; lobbied at the Correctional Bureau; and he gathered all the information he could find about the Paradox Live.

All of these busy days passed by in a blur. But, as if they were being spurred into action by Yuto's own frantic and hurried pace, the hands of the clock inside the prison walls seemed to be ticking faster, little by little.

"You awake?"

One day, when Yuto opened his eyes, he saw Shion's face peering down at his. Shion's pale skin was slightly dampened, and it had a lustrous sheen to it like that of wet porcelain.

"Guess you overdid it. Didn't expect you to pass out, though."

"... eh-- ah-- no, there must be some misunderstanding? I... really, I can't..." Yuto mumbled.

"Pfft... what is there to misunderstand? Why don't you sleep it off a bit longer? Probably hit your head or something," said Shion.

"My... head...?" Looking up at the ceiling that lie beyond Shion's head, Yuto thought back on how he had gotten here.

That day's volunteer work had been cleaning the prison facilities-- specifically, the prisoners' bathrooms. From the moment he had stepped into the bathroom, Yuto had been looking a little bit pale.

Normally, taking a shower in his own private bathroom was fine. But at the sight of the tiled bathroom, with its sterile lighting and large, deep bathtub, he could feel his memories inexorably beginning to stir. He had tried to act as if nothing was wrong, but when he turned on the water, the sound of the rushing water turned into a horrible ringing in his ears. He felt dizzy, and from that point on, his memory was a total blank.

"Wow, what a charmed life you live, making other people do the work for you and then falling asleep," said Kenta's voice, adrip with sarcasm.

Yuto, with eyebrows furrowed, managed with some effort to sit upright. "I'm very sorry... I thought that it would be alright."

"Can't you even keep a handle on your own health, idiot guard?" said Kenta. "If you end up dead we're gonna be the ones who get suspected."

"No, you're absolutely right, I'm very sorry," said Yuto. "... If I can't even supervise properly, then we can't continue working, right? I'll put in a report that we'll be taking a break on account of my poor health..."

"A'ight, Inukai's misfortune is my gain. Let's pack it in and pack it up," Kenta left the bathroom looking thoroughly bored. Yuto couldn't help but think to himself, he waited until I came to my senses, though..

After a brief pause, Shion made eye contact with Ryoga before he followed after Kenta. It seemed that some kind of wordless communication passed between them. The large bathroom grew silent.

Aside from Yuto, who was remaining seated where he was, only Ryoga remained.

"Tosa-kun?" Yuto said and tilted his head.

Ryoga looked down at him, then spoke. "... trauma, right?" Yuto's shoulders grew tense. Ryoga continued. "It's not just anemia or something. That's... the face of someone who's had an old wound opened back up."

"... you've seen right through me, huh?" said Yuto, smiling weakly, with eyebrows still furrowed.

Ryoga's gaze remained fixed on him. Yuto generally thought that there was no point in talking about his past. But he felt that if Ryoga had stayed behind of his own accord to address him -- and especially because it was Ryoga, who was such a poor speaker, who had taken the initiative to talk to him -- he felt that it would be quite rude to say nothing at all. So Yuto began to speak, slowly and gradually.

"I'm, not really a fan of bathrooms."

"... accident?"

"No, it's more that... well, I was always getting reprimanded in the bathroom."

"... parents?"

"Both of my parents passed away in an accident when I was young," said Yuto. Ryoga's eyes widened, and Yuto simply smiled as though to say it's fine. "So, after that, my aunt and uncle took me in, but... well, we didn't get along very well."

He was being extremely vague, but it seemed that Ryoga understood what he meant by the way that he was frowning.

In order to rhyme and to interweave the lyrics on a rhythm, a person needed to have a very deep understanding of words. Ryoga was a very poor talker, but -- from Yuto's perspective -- it seemed that he was good at listening to others and drawing out what they had to say. Now that he thought about it, "rap" did originate from a word meaning 'to chat', after all.

So before he knew it, Yuto had little by little begun talking about his past.

"I had no place where I belonged," he said. "I really hated how weak I was, so after high school, I went abroad. I became a mercenary because I thought maybe I could be of service to someone in a conflict zone where there are so many people who need help."

"... I see."

"But, it didn't go so well. I could never get along very well with my comrades." There were a lot of unusual gaps in Yuto's memories of his time spent as a mercenary. Nowadays, he could make an educated guess as to why that was. "So in the end, I came back to Japan and I became a police officer. I was very fortunate to have a good partner to work with on the force... but in the end, that didn't work out, either. A person who becomes violent at the slightest provocation isn't suited to being a police officer^[lol]. But even with all of that... I still wanted to do some kind of work that could help people."

As he spoke, Yuto was even a little surprised by himself. He had always vaguely understood it before, but putting words to his thoughts and memories, and speaking them aloud, had given a clear shape to his feelings for the first time. Yuto remembered his feelings at that moment. "So in the end, I guess I just wanted to be someone who could support others. Because that's the thing that I wanted the most. Maybe I just want to believe that if someone like that existed... then people could be able to recover."

"... if someone like that existed, huh?" It seemed like something had clicked inside of Ryoga.

Now that he was speaking freely, Yuto decided to ask a question in return. "Tosa-kun. Maybe I ask you something, too?"

"... what."

"I've wanted to ask all of you, Tosa-kun. Why do you rap?" This wasn't the first time Yuto had asked this question, but he had still yet to receive an answer. Yuto continued. "What does rap mean to you, specifically, Tosa-kun?"

A heavy silence filled the room. But it wasn't one of apprehension. Ryoga clearly already held the answer deep in his throat, and he prepared it carefully before he spoke it.

"It's like a first cry."

"... first cry...?"

"... it's no different from when a baby cries. When it's first born, its first cry. If it doesn't make that sound, it can't breathe."

From Yuto's perspective, that was a pretty big leap in logic. But he didn't feel like laughing at all.

Ryoga continued. "... we probably fucked up somehow. At the very least, something... about our way of life, or the way we were born. That's why we're stuck somewhere like this. Even here, somewhere where the sun's light can't reach..."
As if he were trying to force out words that threatened to suffocate him, Ryoga thumped on his chest with his fist. "We're still shouting that we're alive here. ... that's what our rap is."

Now it was Yuto's turn to be unable to form words. What Ryoga was saying was far more serious and far more intense than Yuto had imagined it would be.

And it was... that primal instinct to come to life.

Because Yuto was stuck frozen in place, as though he had been struck to his core by a rap verse, Ryoga continued speaking. "But now I have a question. ... I want an answer."

"...eh? Uh, I thought I already answered your question first, Tosa-kun--?"

"Never said this was one for one," Ryoga said, and he drew close and leaned in, glaring at Yuto. "The fuck are you in such a hurry for?"

"I don't know what you m..."

"... we've been doing that special prison labor stuff all the time recently, haven't we. Even putting aside the bath trauma stuff, you've looked exhausted no matter what way you look at it."

"D-does it show that much on my face?" Yuto said.

"I'm not stupid. You aren't the type to pile a bunch of work on just for brownie points. So fess up. What are you in such a damn hurry for?"

Yuto hesitated for a moment. But, in the end, he decided to confess specifically because he understood how important rap was to Ryoga and to the others.

"... you're all participating in a prisoner rehabilitation program through music. If you can all earn enough commendations to be recognized as model prisoners... there's a possibility you'll be able to enter the Paradox Live."

This time, it was Ryoga's turn to freeze. But instead of Ryoga--

"... Pfft, I certainly thought you were up to something... but never would've guessed that was what you were trying to do."

"Oi! You're not just blowing smoke up our asses, are you!?"

Shion and Kenta came back from the changing rooms, making plenty of noise as they did. Yuto, caught completely off guard, went wide-eyed.

"A-ah, wait, I thought the two of you had already returned to your cells...?"

"It's not a good look," Shion said with a mischievous smirk, "for a prison guard to simply take everything that a prisoner says at face value."

Kenta, meanwhile, was having a hard time containing his enthusiasm. "You bastard, you should've said something earlier, you dumbass prison guard!"

"N-no, you see, the truth is, I can't really guarantee anything will come of it... I thought it would be very irresponsible to tell you things that I wasn't able to confirm yet..."

"Holy shit, you're stupid! No shit that knowing something like that would light a fire under our asses!"

Kenta and Shion both picked up brushes and walked towards the bathtub.

Ryoga made to follow, cracking his neck, and he called out to Yuto. "Sit your ass down. You aren't all recovered yet. If you collapse again we're gonna have to stop working."

"W-will you be okay working on your own?" said Yuto.

Kenta rolled up his sleeves, his face reluctant. "It's the best way of increasing our chances of getting to the Paradox Live, isn't it? Ergo, you should've said something sooner."

Yuto stared blankly as Kenta and Ryoga got to work.

Shion tapped him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear. "Ryoga's the one who wanted to talk to you after your prison rap battle," he said, "but... Shibaken's the one who thought something might've been up with you lately."

"I-is that so?" said Yuto.

"Mmhm. ... and I don't think the Paradox Live was the only thing he wanted to ask about."

"... huh?"

Shion also (with some reluctance) went to join the work, leaving Yuto with more questions than he had answered.

From then on, the three of them became much more cooperative, and their performance evaluations for their prison labor steadily improved. Furthermore, they improved their behavior and participated in volunteer work of their own volition. Though they still complained about it, the three of them were exhibiting behavior that could certainly be called exemplary.

Even so, there were a lot of hurdles to overcome before would be able to partake in the Paradox Live: preparing documents, demonstrating their credibility, taking the probation environment into account... The rehabilitation program's conditions were designed to be a very tough needle to thread, and it was absolutely not a smooth journey.

It was undoubtedly an absolutely monumental workload for a single prison guard to shoulder. There were nights where he stayed up until morning gathering and sorting documents. He lost track of how many times he bowed his head. But none of those hardships were enough to give Yuto pause. Thinking only of the prisoners being able to move forward, he continued to throw himself wholeheartedly into the work.

He had complete tunnel vision. And so, at the time, Yuto had completely failed to consider what kinds of gazes a bunch of prisoners would be met with when trying to get back on their feet.

"So this is it. A real hiphop club!"

The building was far more open and spacious than what Yuto had been imagining.

"... we're seriously doing this here? Tonight?" In stark contrast to Yuto's clear sense of accomplishment, Kenta's voice was unusually weak.

After overcoming countless roadblocks, Yuto had finally brought the three prisoners to one of the clubs that was serving as venue to the qualifiers for the Paradox Live-- for Road to Legend.

It was a place so vivid and vibrant that it almost felt comical. The building itself was brand new, and the dazzling LED lights shone off of the polished floors. Though the visitors were dressed casually, they were all clearly put-together, and they had filled the large hall to capacity. The lighting was so bright it was liable to hurt the eyes, and the speakers were so large that they almost resembled skyscrapers more than sound equipment. In comparison to this bright and dazzling stage, the memory of those prison rap nights seemed to fade away. The richness and depth of a world unbound by shackles could not be any more brutally apparent.

"As I understand it," said Yuto, "the Correctional Bureau selected which preliminary-hosting venue to apply to, on the premise that we would be adhering to and representing the rehabilitation program. And thanks to that, it seems they chose quite a prestigious club for you to perform at! This is your big moment, so do your best, everyone!"

Even when they reached the greenroom, it was arranged like a stylish lounge.

Ryoga -- who had settled heavily into a plush sofa -- gave his reply to Yuto. "... it is pretty impressive." There was a strange hesitancy to his voice.

Yuto looked puzzled. "Um, is there some kind of problem?"

Shion was the one who replied on Ryoga's behalf. "I wouldn't call it a problem, per se," he said, his gaze going straight through the wall behind them, and he listened to the cheers coming from out on stage. "But I think maybe the crowd isn't great. This venue is... how to put it... maybe a touch pretentious?"

"Clubs are normally more underground, right? ... and besides, there's also that," Kenta said and gestured with his chin, indicating the aisle that led towards the stage.

Following the motion, Yuto was met with a man's face, his expressions cold as he looked at them. As soon as his eyes met Yuto's, though, he quickly averted his gaze.

To avoid being overheard, Yuto spoke in a low voice. "And who is that...?"

"He's from the hiphop team Northern Ballad^[4]. We're going up against them... they've already gotten a ton of media coverage. Their heads are super easy to spot too. Saw a few of them in the venue. I mean, no duh, though, since they belong to a production company that's invested in this place."

Ryoga then summarize Kenta's explanation in one sentence, and tacked on a question afterwards. "So this is their home turf... and I guess that makes this unfamiliar territory, huh?"

"Well, they're pros, aren't they? Out of all of the teams who are here today, they're the only ones who feel like they could give us a run for our money. Though, to be fair, this feels like it's a pretty rigged competition... which I guess means we've got a lot of eyes on us, too," Shion said with a laugh. "Apparently, we were thrown hastily into this because of the rehabilitation program. From where they're standing, we're the odd ones out."

Even if he only understood the broad strokes, Yuto was able to grasp that this was not a great situation. But there was nothing he could do about it now. Seeing Yuto's anxious expression, Shion leaned in closer.

"There's no point in you getting anxious, Yuto, since you're just here to hold the leash. After all, the entire world's unfamiliar territory for people like us."

Kenta sneered. "Fair enough. Either way, if their skills are shit..."

"Then we'll just eat them alive." Ryoga slammed his fist into his open palm.

Then, Northern Ballad went out on stage, and even louder cheers than before broke out. Not long after that, it was time for the team comprised of Ryoga and the others to go out.

"So, what was our team name, again?" Shion asked.

Kenta was the one to reply. "The idiot guard has shit for taste, so I let Ryoga do it."

"Huh, was my suggestion that bad? I thought 'The Three Caballeros^[5]' was pretty good..."

"It fucking sucked. Maybe try updating versions on whatever dictionary software you've got running in your brain?"

"So," Shion cut in, "Ryoga, what name did you come up with?"

"... people like us," Ryoga said, "can't rely on luck."

They walked down the corridor to the stage. Their name was announced loudly out of the booming speakers.

"Next up... here come the mad dogs from prison! Team GokuLuck^[6]!"

At the sound of the MC's voice and the sight of the text displayed on the monitors, Shion laughed.

"I like it. Bad luck is pretty on-brand for us, after all..."

The sense of malaise was very, very clear.

When the members of GokuLuck took the stage, the previous team, Northern Ballad... should have already left, but they remained right where they were. The leader of Northern Ballad was still holding the microphone.

Kenta approached him, frowning. "Oi. Pass the mic. If you're done here, then--"

"Everyone!" Kenta's voice was completely drowned out by the sound of Northern Ballad's leader's voice blasting from the high-quality sound system. "You know that tonight's event is supposed to be a qualifying round for Road to Legend-- for the Paradox Live that will crown a new legend in the phantom live scene, right!?"

As if prompted into a call-and-response routine, the audience let loose a chorus of assent. The ones leading the crowd in raising their voices were the heads dressed in Northern Ballad's colors.

"Phantom lives are taking the world by storm. The ones who stand at the top are going to stand as the representative of this era's entire music scene. And it's not just about us as rappers. Don't all of you heads need someone you can be proud of standing at the top!?" Northern Ballad's leader paused, and his gaze scanned the entire venue. He seemed very adept at controlling the vibe of the audience from his place on stage.
"But that's the thing! Right now, a bunch of guys who don't deserve that crown are coming out on stage! It's true that hiphop has an outlaw side to it! But these GokuLuck dudes are real criminals! We're not talking about ex-convicts who've already done their time! They're vicious criminals in the middle of serving their sentences!"

A murmur rippled through the venue.

The members of GokuLuck grimaced, as if to say, so that's how it is, then. It seemed like this guy knew what he was talking about. The production company must have been able to use their connections and resources to investigate the histories of all of the other teams that were participating.

"So, everyone! Are you really okay with having people like this in a battle to decide who will be deemed the next legend in the Paradox Live? No matter how much that culture may exist within hiphop, are you really okay letting real, actual criminals onstage? Just keep that in mind when you're judging!"

And with that, the leader of Northern Ballad dropped the mic on the stage.

Kenta's lips curled into a sneer. It was a smile that had no joy in it. "Oh, I get it. That's how these guys're gonna play," he said. "They're desperately trying to find a way to win even with their bottom-feeder intelligence. Pathetic. Guess their brains are rotting away."

"This level of shamelessness is almost laughabl-- --!"

As Shion reached to pick the mic off the floor, something hard hit him directly in the head, and then a half-empty plastic bottle was rolling away from him. Someone in the audience had thrown it. If you traced the arc back, it was clear that it had been thrown by a Northern Ballad head.

"Go back where you came from!"

What began as booing quickly erupted into a storm.

Anything and everything went flying, from empty cans to crumpled-up flyers. Some people even threw their phones. Their arsenal of insults was admittedly limited, but the hostility was palpable.

"Get lost!"

"Go back where you came from!"

"Criminals!"

"Go pay for your crimes!"

"You belong behind bars!"

The angry shouts echoed all around. The MC in charge of the event tried his best to quell the uproar, but once it started, the booing wouldn't stop.

"... y-you bastards..." Ryoga bared his teeth and stormed forward. As he began to pick up speed and made to make his way into the audience, he bumped into something heavy.

Yuto, who had leapt out to stop Ryoga, tumbled to the stage floor.

"Tosa-kun, please, stop! If you start a riot here, all of your hard work will be ruined!"

"Hah!?" Ryoga snarled.

"Yes, Inukai... but this is..." Shion hissed as he was pelted with objects. Something hard must have hit him; there was blood seeping from his temple. Looking next to him, Yuto could see Kenta covering his head with his jacket.

All three of them were clearly nearing their breaking points. Their eyes had a look clearly borne of the merciless rejection they had been met with, fear and sorrow on the verge of erupting into rage.

Yuto turned his back to the three members of GokuLuck, as though he were holding them back, and he faced the audience. Then, he spread his arms out wide, as though to form a wall against them.

"E-everyone! Please, listen to me! They're--!!" The sole of a flying shoe hit Yuto squarely in the face. "It's true that they've committed crimes! But, they came here, to face up to it, and to atone... to try and keep moving forward...!" A can of juice hit Yuto in the head. The contents spilled all over him, soaking his uniform.
Yuto, in desperation, raised his voice.
"They just came here to rap! What's wrong with that!? Music-- music doesn't hurt anyone, does it?! It's not like this kind of violence... they've been working hard... and under the rules, they're... they're allowed to be here...!"

Despite his best efforts, the relentless hostility that Yuto was up against cowed him into silence. The crowd continued throwing whatever they could get their hands on. Their heartless words struck hit hard. He had tried to protect GokuLuck, but his actions had only made things worse.

The riot was escalating quickly. The people in the audience were regular civilians who lived within the law-- people who lived in the sunlight. But that's exactly why, at this moment, they were losing themselves in the self-righteousness of rejecting those who they perceived as having done wrong.

"Please, just... let us talk...!"

As they watched Yuto from behind, the three members of GokuLuck couldn't do anything but grit their teeth in frustration.

They heard laughter from behind them. Northern Ballad were looking at them. They were talking to members of the staff. They could overhear them saying something to the effect of, We really need to get those guys offstage, stat.

As Ryoga raised his fist, this time, it was Shion who stopped him. "Ryoga. That's not going to do us any good this time."

"...!"

When he got nervous, his words got completely stuck. Ryoga had no way to respond to the overwhelming storm of hate. He wasn't even being allowed to rap. His frustration kept building up. He clenched his fists so hard that his fingernails were drawing blood from his own palms. Clenching the blood tightly in his hand, Ryoga turned around and shouted at the back that was turned to them.

"What the fuck are you doing, Inukai?!"

"-- T-Tosa-kun...?"

"How fucking long are you going to keep staying half-asleep!? The fuck are we supposed to do if "you" don't come out right now!?"

Shielding his face from the objects that were being thrown, Shion continued. "... he's right. Situations like this, there's nobody who's going to extend a hand to help. And it's not just now. That's just what life is always like. ... but then there's Inukai, honest to a fault, taking all of the heat and bowing his head through it all. I know I'd find it hard to just abandon Inukai like that... I'm sure "you" exist to support him."

Yuto didn't understand at all. The pain was making his consciousness slip away.

Kenta shouted through the rain of hostility.

"Listen up! That fucking moron is trying to help us, like a fucking moron! But "you"'re the only one who can help that fucking moron! "You"'re the one who's always been by Inukai's side, so "you" oughta fucking know that!"

He didn't understand. Who were they all talking to?

The lights began to blur; the insults made his ears begin to ring. His eardrums, gone numb thanks to all of the things that had been thrown at him, transformed all of the sound into pure static noise.

All of the tension and exhaustion made it difficult to breathe. It hurt to breathe. His consciousness grew hazy. In the furthest depths of his awareness, he could see a hand reaching out to him.

Was it Ryoga's strong arm? Shion's pale one? Kenta's delicate one?

It was certainly someone's arm that grabbed a strong hold of Yuto, but it wasn't any of theirs.

His consciousness was sinking away-- and in its place, there was something crawling back upwards. As it floated to the surface, the muffled sounds became clearer.

"So what I'm saying is...!"

Kenta's voice came through loud and clear.

"Come out already! You useless motherfucker!"

With a single swing, his baton shattered a glass that had been flying at his face.

Picking the microphone off the floor, a very different Inukai Yuto opened his mouth.

"... shut your mouths, you rotten bastards."

The shouting stopped. A piercing silence spread through the room. The air inside the venue, which until now had been dominated by an unusual heat, now seemed to have rapidly dropped below freezing.

Yuto tapped the mic several times, then turned to face Northern Ballad.

"Are we in an interview room right now?"

The members of Northern Ballad, unsure of what he meant and unable to guess, simply froze in place.

Yuto brought the microphone so close to his mouth that he could practically sink his teeth into it. "Are you lot here to show each other your resumes?" His razor-sharp eyes shot out across the audience. "All of you came here to listen to rap, didn't you? Are you really going to be satisfied with some half-assed lecture? ... if that's enough to satisfy you, then be my guest. But if you're here for rap, then here on out it's our turn to eat you fuckers alive."

He turned and looked at the members of GokuLuck over his shoulder.

On their faces, there were smiles tinged with sighs.

"... hah. Finally showed up, huh?" said Ryoga.

"Mister Prison Guard From Hell, was the fashionably late arrival really necessary?" said Shion.

"Late as fuck... if you'd just shown your face from the start, you could've saved us a lot of pain in the ass, you shitty-ass guard," said Kenta.

The venue staff, who had been momentarily stunned, began issuing rushed orders.

Yuto licked his baton and issued a command that cut straight through the air.

"Playtime is over; bare your teeth, you dogs. Time to show those complacent morons who's really STRONGER."

The corners of Ryoga's mouth curled upwards, revealing the metal grills that covered his canine teeth.

Shion smiled, running his tongue along the nail ring on his ring finger.

Kenta laughed, gnawing on the chain that hung from his collar.

And under the lights, Yuto lifted his baton aloft.

As the sound crew put on the track, the audience was bathed in the ominous glow of the solidified manifestation of phantometal. The deep bass reverberated through the venue, shaking the otherwise subdued venue to its foundation. Reason and contempt were equally powerless in the face of it. Confronted with that genuine sound, the people had no choice but to follow their instincts.

"Today, GokuLuck are newly born into the world... so let loose your first cry as loud as you can! And then--"

Whether it be the heads from out-of-town or the haters jumping on the bandwagon.

Against hiphop, they didn't stand a chance.

"... Lukewarm rap warrants a public execution."

"Shibaken, are you watching that report again?"

Shion's voice made its way through his headphones, and Kenta turned around, glaring.

Their prefabricated house, which was a bit too rough around the edges to be called a proper sharehouse, was built with absolutely no regard for privacy beyond the addition of blackout curtains around the bunk beds. Kenta glared daggers, his frustrated expression seeming to say can't I even browse the internet in peace?.

"I'm not looking it because I like it. I'm trying to dig up some inspiration to rearrange it in my head. I'm gonna remake the track."

"I don't hate the report, though," Shion said. "That night, seeing all of those guys who had been staring at us so coldly suddenly get all flustered, like they were falling over themselves to completely surrender themselves to us... it was fun to see all of those stubborn guys to loosen up a little bit."

"You need to update your brain to a firmware version that can do more than make gross fucking jokes, horndog."

"Ah, my apologies, you're still about ten years too young for that, aren't you, Shibaken?"

"Oh my god you're annoying."

"But even so, if you're going to look for our origin story, that's definitely it," Shion said. "That was the first time we performed as a group of four."

"I seem to recall someone said, 'let's shift over to a pattern that includes the shitty prison guard', so the track and lyrics were a real pain in the ass," Kenta said. "But whatever, I'm a genius, so it was easy for me."

"Wasn't it your idea in the first place, Shibaken?"

"What? Absolutely not. Pics or it didn't happen. You got a log somewhere?"

"Wasn't your working title for the track something like 'version Four-Leaf Clover'?"

"It was †Four-Headed Prison Guard Dog†, asshole! And besides that, you're still wrong. It was Ryoga-chan who was the one who was all on-board for it."

"How about it, Ryoga? Do you remember?"

"Dunno. But..." Ryoga took the cigarette out of his mouth, looked up at the ceiling, and blew out his smoke. "I just figured he'd show up. "He"'s a rapper, after all."

Shion laughed; Kenta turned away. Nobody denied it.

At about that time, they could hear regular footsteps coming from beyond the thin walls.

"Everyone, it's almost time for today's prison labor! Is everyone ready?""

"... pain in the ass," Ryoga muttered.

"I had a lot of fun last night, so I'm still pretty tired," said Shion.

"plz stream Inukai solo playthru of this shitty prison content," Kenta drawled.

"Oh, come on, don't all complain about it like that all at once..." Yuto sighed, and the other three reluctantly stood up.

Ryoga put out his cigarette in the ashtray and cracked his neck. "... so. What're we doing today."

"Ah, yes!" said Yuto. "Today we'll be in manufacturing, making handcrafted Daruma dolls..."

"Arts and crafts...?"

"So can I paint the Daruma any color I feel like?"

"Kaida-kun, please paint the Daruma red."

"Ugh, here we fucking go. Who even buys Daruma these days? Massive waste of time and resources."

"Please don't say that, Mikoshiba-kun. The Daruma we'll be making today are traditional items, so there's demand for them. They're even pretty popular in the Metropolitan Assembly elections​..."

"Do I look like I give a fuck? Last week we had to spend an entire goddamn day making kokeshi dolls and I'm already over it. If this is supposed to be vocational training, I don't get what the point of making me hate all of these jobs is. If a new content patch doesn't drop I'm gonna lose motivation."

"I'm sorry, that's out of my hands..."

"Hah? Then what's the point of having a guard around? How goddamn useless can you b--"

Ryoga's eyes were practically screaming you idiot.

Shion's mouth fell open in an ah shape.

Kenta tried to shut his mouth, but it was already too late.

Yuto's baton sliced through the air.

"You really think you're in a position to pick and choose your work? You've really made it to the big times, haven't you?"

"... here he comes," said Ryoga.

"Shibaken... isn't this happening a lot lately? How many times is this, now?"

"How is this MY fault!? It's just because this shitty guard is being a pain in the ass--!"

And then, the sound of thrashing and struggling. The small room became quite lively indeed first thing in the morning.

And so another day left its mark on this prefab house that had already had plenty of marks made, and repaired, in it before.