TW: MENTIONS OF SEX TRAFFICKING AND DEPICTIONS OF RAPE
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"じっとしていなさい、ブレード、さもないともっとひどく痛むよ," the commanding officer says. I hate these rituals. Is this even legal? (Translation: Stay still Blade, or this will hurt a lot worse)
"ごめんなさい," I apologize and take a deep breath. Three men are holding me down, and my heartbeat rises the closer the fire gets. (Translation: I'm sorry)
"これはあなたのトレーニングの重要な部分です。," my superior reminds me again, yet it does nothing to calm me down. I close my eyes in anticipation of the pain, but nothing could've prepared me for the smell of my flesh as the hot iron touches my skin. (Translation: This is a crucial part of your training)
Have you ever been in so much pain that you lost your sense of being? A pain so unbearable that you don't even feel it? You're lucky if you haven't because that is what being branded feels like.
My superior argued getting branded was part of the initiation process, and that the pain would help in case I ever get tortured by any enemies. But this? It's too much for a human being, let alone someone who turned 16 a week ago.
"AHHHH!" I scream when the iron gets pressed into my skin. Tears cloud my vision and I struggle to catch my breath.
I wish I could call out for my mother so she could comfort me but I can't because my parents betrayed me. How could they ever subject me to pain like this? Especially my father. Chances are that he's been through this and maybe even worse, yet he allowed me to come here and go through this too.
The hot iron is pulled away from my skin and I make the mistake of looking down. I see my bone marrow because somehow, the hot iron burned through all of my flesh. Barely a hundred pounds, there's not much meat on my bones to handle being branded.
"あなたはよくやった、ブレード。あなたのお父さんはあまり泣かなかったけどね," my superior teases me and my competitive edge makes me want to work my hardest to be better than my father. (Translation: You did good Blade. Your father didn't cry as much though)
"痛いよ," I cry and everyone around me laughs. Maybe it's the embarrassment, maybe it's the pain, or maybe it's both, but I close my eyes and scream until I pass out. (Translation: It hurts)
I gasp awake, sweaty and out of breath. Every since I left the asylum, I've been having trouble sleeping because I keep dreaming of the terrifying things that I've been through. These dreams do enough except breed a feeling of weakness and vulnerability. A feeling that I abhor.
This particular dream is one of the harder ones because it's the time I got branded. Before getting serious in my training, the program's motto, "弱者への哀れみ" had to get branded on me. It translates to "pity is for the weak" and it served as a reminder that I either killed or got killed.
