Beneath the Surface

Jin was gone, but his voice hadn’t left her. It clung to the cold walls of her cell, breathed throughly the cracks in the concrete, and curled itself into the seams of her memory.

“You have to see it, Kira. The sky. For both of us.”

She stopped eating the better food after winning. What was the pointing of luxury if the only person she’d wanted to share it with wasn’t sitting across for her anymore? The silent corners of the underground echoed differently now-quiter, colder. Her victories felt like punishment. Her strength? Useless.

The worst part wasn’t his death.

It was waking up the next morning and finding that the world hadn’t changed.

The children still trained. The guards still watched. The fights still happened every Friday. The scent of blood still soaked into the mats like it always had. Jin had died, and nothing stopped.

Nothing but Kira.

She began to pull back.

She lost once- deliberately. The sting of failure, the slap of humiliation, the stale crust of bread she was given- all of it should have broken her. Instead, it hardened her . No one noticed the difference. They still saw her as the undefeated champion who’d had a bad match.

But beneath the surface, she was retiring herself. Becoming quite. Becoming invisible.

She marked every guard’s rotation. Counted every second it took for a door to open and shut. Measured the time between when lights dimmed for lockdown and when the corridors went still. Most of the older kids were already being prepared for the big tournament-a battle the could win their broken country, a fleeting teste of power. Everyone was distracted. No one was watching her closely anymore.

Except when she stepped into the fighting ground.

Every time she fought, she felt less like herself. She let go a little more. Each strike reminds her that this wasn’t only just for survival- it was a promise to someone dear, stay alive. keep trying.

And that was the one think that kept her going or she would have fallen apart the day he died

Kira while thinking of Jin says to her self “I’m still alive. I ‘m still trying”.

On one of those nights, as she stood in the darkness of the showers, water running over bruised skin, she caught her reflection in the cracked mirror above the sink. For a moment, she stared at the stranger staring back at her, but then, without warning, the memories flooded in.

The image of Jin flashed before her, vivid and clear, as if he were standing right there, his face etched with the quiet smile she could never forget. The weight of grief hit her like a tidal wave, rushing through her chest, constricting her breath. Anger bubbled up, hot and sharp, the bitter teste of helplessness filling her mouth.

No matter how much she shakes her head and closed her eyes the images won’t stop.

The overwhelming emotions won’t die down.

“She closed her eyes. There’s nothing left for me to lose, she thought. Only a promise I have to keep.”

“She had never believed in promises. But now, she’d do anything to keep one.”

She would escape.

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