A Life Without Color

Chapter 13

Kouenji crouched down, gazing dispassionately at Sudou's unconscious body, before grabbing him like a sack of potatoes and tossing him off of the ring. His body flopped like a lifeless ragdoll as he hit the ground.

In the seconds between his bottom and his head slamming into the floor, a spark of awareness briefly briefly lit up his eyes. He'd woken up with a start only to fade immediately back into unconsciousness. No one else had even noticed.

Horikita tensed, but didn't say a word. She settled for glaring silently at Kouenji, her teeth grinding together in an attempt to contain her fury.

I expected Kouenji to break away from the ring and return to the rest of us. Instead, he remained frozen in it's center. His gaze was unwavering as he locked eyes with that man standing across from him.

All of a sudden, the air in the room became suffocatingly tense. Kouenji's glare radiated killer intent as it pierced into the eyes of that man who fixed him with a mocking smirk. The silence between them seemed to stretch endlessly before that man's laughter shattered it abruptly.

"Is there something you'd like to say to me, test subject?" He asked.

Both of them knew where the balance of power tilted. To take him on now would be like asking for pain.

Kouenji's internal struggle was written all over his face. Clearly, there were many things he would have liked to say. Gone were the days where he would happily mouth off with no thought to the consequences. He was far from broken, but he was no idiot either. He was obviously biding his time.

"Just admiring this marvelous activity you put together, professor," he replied. "Truly, a mind like yours would be valued at the Kouenji corporation. Why don't you come work for us when I'm CEO? I'll make sure you're taken care of."

Why do I ever let myself believe that he's changed? I was wrong, he still hasn't learned anything. His stubbornness and refusal to budge even an inch verges on insanity.

That man looked furious at such blatant disrespect. He narrowed his eyes at Kouenji, pausing to sniff dismissively before responding.

"Go put your nose against the wall until it's your turn to fight again. If I see your nose away from that wall, I'm going to stick you back in that isolation room for another three days," he snapped

Kouenji tensed, a shred of fear flickering through him. I could see the corners if his mouth tugging downwards in an attempt to mask his humiliation. He sauntered jauntily over to the wall, valiantly pretending that his wasn't affected. But his cheeks were dusted with pink as he lay against the ground with his nose touching the wall.

That man sighed softly, but as Kouenji had technically obeyed the order, he refrained from taking any more action.

"Next up is 4-1 and Hirata," he announced.

I wish he would stop insisting on referring to me as 4-1. Everyone else here is addressed by their last names. It's absurd that I'm the only one being referred to by my subject name. Of course, I know why that is. This whole twisted experiment is centered around breaking me down after all. Referring to me as a number denies my human status. It's all part of the process.

My feet trod over Kouenji's toes as I slowly walked to the platform with Yosuke trailing behind me. He didn't react at all. His nose remained glued to the wall as ordered.

I used to dedicate time to figuring out how to control everyone at school . I'd spend hours running through detailed simulations of how I could turn all of my classmates into useful tools. Kouenji was the only one I was never able to come up with a perfect plan for.