Resolve From One Another

  The arena emptied slowly, but the tension clung to the air like fog. Guards whispered. Workers scattered back to their stations with wide eyes and trembling fingers. Glova and Splitjaw’s bodies were already being dragged away, trailing thick streaks of red across the stone.

  Dozai stood motionless.

  The moment hadn’t passed. Not truly.

  Two weeks.

  They didn’t even know what kind of fight they were supposed to prepare for.

  What weapons were allowed. What environments. What opponents. What rules.

  Rizaru was being carried. Two workers had stepped forward when Nobu barked at them. Neither said a word. They just nodded and obeyed, hoisting her gently like she was made of paper.

  Nobu walked behind them, jaw tight, eyes sharper than usual. Roi kept her distance, glancing back every few seconds, muttering something under her breath.

  Dozai walked last.

  The stone corridor felt like a throat. And they were all being swallowed.

  Rizaru had been placed on the old cot, the one with the torn blanket and the rusted corner that had once cut Nobu’s leg open during his restless sleep.

  Now it looked like a throne. Or a funeral bed.

  Dozai stood at the far corner of the infirmary room, arms crossed, back rigid against the cold stone wall. Shadows clung to his features in the dim, flickering light from a rusted oil lamp hanging crookedly above them. His hands trembled beneath his folded arms, but he kept them tucked tight to mask it.

  Across the room, Rei dipped a cloth into a bowl of murky water, then gently began to clean the dried blood crusted along Rizaru’s brow.

  “She’s stable,” Rei said at last, her voice cracking. “I think.”

  Dozai didn’t answer. He just stared.

  Kenny sat slumped near the door, head leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. His chest rose shallowly, lips parted like he was trying to exhale something—fear, maybe. Or adrenaline.

  But it stuck in his throat like a stone.

  “I knew this was reckless,” Nobu muttered from beside the cot, still kneeling. "You said it wouldn't be this bad."

  Dozai's eyes flicked toward him. Didn't answer.

  "You said we'd have a chance," Nobu pressed, voice harder now. "You made it sound like—"

  "This is the chance," Dozai interrupted, voice low but steady. "That's all I ever promised."

  It was quiet for a moment before a bitter laugh slipped from Kenny’s throat. “I knew Hunters were strong, but man…” He looked down at his open palms, still trembling faintly. “My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Like... my bones remembered something my head didn't understand.”

  “They’re monsters,” Roi muttered from the shadows, arms folded across her knees. “Heard rumors Rizaru was going to fight, didn't think it would be this cruel...”

  Silence swallowed the room. Thick and breathless.

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  Dozai didn’t flinch. But he said nothing either. He couldn’t.

  The weight in his chest made words feel like stones. Nobu dropped the bloodied cloth into the bowl with a wet plop.

  “So, what now?” Nobu whispered. “We're not invisible anymore. That was the point, wasn't it? Sell the rest.” He said bitterly.

  Dozai clenched his teeth subtly, glancing away.

  Rei, still sitting beside Rizaru, adjusted her torn sleeve with careful fingers. She stared deeply at Rizaru, as if recalling the cost of the plan.

  Her voice came quiet, almost too soft for the room. “Maybe… we should have thought the plan through better.”

  The words hung heavy. Roi turned sharply toward her, stunned.

  “Hold on—this was part of a plan?” Roi’s voice rose, cracking. "Planned what, exactly?"

  Dozai's chest tightened. The word hung in the air, unspoken but understood.

  "Escape." Dozai muttered, glancing away.

  "Huh?"

  A few other kids lingered near the walls, eyes flicking between them, unsure if they were part of the moment or just caught in it.

  Dozai glared, hissing a gesture for silence. "Yeah," he muttered, keeping his voice dangerously low. "A chance we choose."

  Silence again.

  Heavier than before.

  They all stared at Dozai.

  His collar felt tighter around his throat. He adjusted it with a nervous hand.

  Then Kenny let out a soft chuckle and looked up, a tired smile on his lips. “For someone so quiet, you’re a lot braver than you look.”

  He elbowed Roi lightly. She groaned, rolled her eyes. Then she looked at him, truly, and sighed.

  “Well,” she muttered, pushing herself to her feet. “You're insane, Dozai.”

  Then she turned toward the door.

  “But It was better than any idea Kenny and I tried coming up with.”

  Kenny followed, tossing an arm around her shoulders.

  "Well," Kenny said quietly, "maybe more people is what you need." He tried for a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Whatever Hellick has planned... I'm with you guys."

  Roi rolled his eyes. "I make no promises... But I won't snitch on you guys."

  Perdita padded behind him on silent feet. “I smell hardship,” she murmured dreamily. “But also... a sprinkle of hope.”

  Then her nose twitched. Her mouth opened slightly, drooling.

  “Kenny~ can we get actual sprinkles?”

  The three of them disappeared down the hall, their voices trailing into half-heard echoes until the door creaked shut behind them.

  The room exhaled into silence. First, there was only the soft scuff of their footsteps fading farther and farther away. Then nothing. Just the stillness left behind.

  The air felt heavier without them, every sound sharper in its absence, the drip of water in a distant pipe, the faint rustle of cloth as someone shifted in sleep.

  Rei slumped sideways, exhaustion pulling her down where she sat.

  Nobu wasn’t far behind, his head tipping against the cot as his eyes slid closed.

  The space seemed larger now, hollowed out. Only one sound broke through: the rough, uneven rhythm of Rizaru’s breathing. Her chest rose and fell like a struggle in itself, ragged yet unrelenting, as if even unconscious her body refused to yield.

  At last, Dozai moved. Slowly, carefully, he lowered himself beside her cot until his eyes were level with hers. Her eyes didn’t open. But he spoke anyway.

  “I didn’t think it would go that far,” he said softly.

  No answer. Just the sound of Rizaru’s breath. In and out.

  “I had control. I did.” He bit his lip. “Until I didn’t.”

  His voice cracked on the last word.

  “You fought unbelievably and won like you said you would. And I... I gambled it all. I thought that if I could just make them see—really see—that we’re more than just tools... we’d have a chance.” He shook his head. “We have that chance now, but... I didn’t respect how strong they really were.”

  He stared at the cracked floor beneath him, as if it could offer answers.

  “Stupid,” he whispered. “I let the bearable bullying fool me. They’re all around the same age as us too, but… I forgot they’re soldiers. They've killed monsters. Survived things we can’t imagine. Of course they’re atleast that strong.”

  He clenched both fists into his hair.

  “I’m an idiot. A goddamn—” He caught himself. Lowered his head. Quieter now, “I just made everything worse.”

  He leaned forward until his forehead touched the rusted metal bar of her cot.

  It was cold against his skin. For a while, there was only breathing. His. Theirs. Hers.

  Then—faint, hoarse, crack—

  “It’s not that bad.”

  Dozai’s eyes shot open.

  Rizaru’s lips twitched faintly, almost a smirk. Her voice was dry, dusted with pain, but awake.

  “Now we know what ‘worse’ might look like,” she rasped. She turned her head slightly toward him. Didn’t open her eyes. Didn’t need to.

  “So... we know how far we have to go.”

  Dozai stared at her, stunned. Then, slowly, his eyes softened.

  And for the first time in what felt like forever... he exhaled.

  Really exhaled.