Chapter Three: Compliance
(@sunflower-author I did another chapter sorry it took so long)
You wake up to silence.
Not the kind that comforts, but the kind that reminds you something’s wrong.
Kakucho's room is dim. Clean. Tidy. Sterile. His hoodie is draped over a chair. Your iPad rests on the nightstand, charged and untouched. There’s water and meds lay on your nightstand (but not those kinds of meds just vitamins btw) and maybe some painkillers. Everything dangerous is gone. It's all locked away, just like you.
The sheets reeked of him.
Your head aches. Your body’s stiff. You’re still wearing yesterday’s clothes.
Kakucho isn’t there.
But the door isn’t locked.
It’s a test. Of course it is.
You drag yourself upright, feet hitting the floor with a dull thud. The carpet feels like ash under your toes. You shuffle over to the door, press your palm against it.
It creaks open.
Outside, the hallway is quiet. Unnaturally so.
You almost step out—
“Don’t.”
You freeze.
Kakucho’s voice, quiet and raw, like he’s been waiting just outside the whole time.
“I knew you’d try.” He doesn’t sound angry. Just... disappointed.
He steps into view, holding a cold glass of water. “You haven’t eaten. I figured you’d get curious or venture out to retrieve food by now.”
He offers his glass of water to you.
You stare at it. He doesn’t force it into your hands, just stands there holding it until your fingers wrap around the glass.
“Can I…” you rasp, “go for a walk?”
Kakucho’s eyes narrow, but he nods. “If I’m with you.” He says with a serious tone.
Figures.
You sip the tea. It tastes like regular water and the taste of overwhelming surveillance from lovesick men.
The garden’s overgrown, but beautiful. Mikey likes things that look pretty and easy to break.
You sit on the bench, Kakucho beside you. His presence is a constant reminder of the situation you're in. The atmosphere is thick but also heavy. Like he’s trying to remind you he’s still there without actually saying it.
You tilt your face up to the weak sun.
“Why are you here?” you ask, voice hoarse again.
He shrugs. “Mikey said to be.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He looks down at his hands. “Because I should’ve seen it. You were right. I could’ve helped. But I looked the other way.”
You don’t answer. You let the wind do the talking.
“I’m going to earn your trust back,” he says, so quietly you almost miss it.
You laugh dry, brittle. “You never had it.”
He flinches.
Later that day, the new rules become obvious.
You’re not allowed in the kitchen alone.
Sanzu watches from a distance when you walk the halls.
Ran tries to say hi, and Mikey drags him away with a death grip on his collar.
You’re radioactive now. Fragile. Sacred. Untouchable.
Not because they care.
But because they broke you.
That night, in Kakucho’s room, you sit on the bed while he reads something at the desk.
You stare at the wall.
Everything feels meaningless as it's an empty void that's inescapable.
Your ears ring. You can hardly hear Kakucho's voice as he speaks to you.
You don’t even try to respond.
You just sit there as you cloud your head with thoughts.
You just let your vision go dark.
And for the first time in a long time, you ask yourself something new.
Not how do I escape from them?
But how do I break free from this never ending cycle of suffering?
Not from them.
But from yourself.
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"Let's try again Takemichi."
