Star | Jujustu Kaisen

run, run, run, baby (pt.1)

Junpei hunched his shoulders, a defensive stance against the world, as one of the many bullies effortlessly placed a shoulder behind his back. The weight of their collective malice bore down on him, and he could feel his breath quicken, the tension in the air thickening with the unspoken menace. From the corner of his eyes, he could see the others surrounding him, closing in like predators circling their prey. He felt like a sheep led to the slaughter, helpless and isolated in a cruel world.

It was a familiar scenario, an unrelenting cycle of torment that played out in various settings—school, streets, places where he should have found sanctuary. Instead, these places became extensions of his personal hell. Junpei's silent pleas for help were met with indifference from passersby as if he were invisible or, worse, unworthy of attention.

Each bullying episode left scars on his soul, a constant reminder of his perceived worthlessness. Alone in his room, he would contemplate dark thoughts, contemplating actions that would bring an end to his suffering. The walls of his room, paper-thin, echoed with the distant sounds of his mother's soft snores, a reminder that he couldn't subject her to the pain of losing a child. So, he endured, each day an unrelenting challenge.

What was he made for? It seemed, in the eyes of these tormentors, for nothing. From the very first day of high school, they took pleasure in reminding him of his supposed insignificance, pushing him to the brink of despair. Yet, in the depths of his struggle, a quiet resilience stirred within Junpei, a determination to defy the narrative forced upon him.

The dimly lit alley echoed with the cruel laughter of the tormentors as they encircled Junpei. The female bully, a wicked glint in her eyes, jeered at him.

"What's the matter, Junpei? Too scared to come up with another brilliant movie idea for your nonexistent club?" she sneered, the malice in her tone cutting through the cold night air. Junpei, seasoned by years of torment, held back the flinch that sought to betray him. He knew all too well what she was insinuating—the shattered dreams of his naïve attempt to forge a movie club in the shadows of his teenage innocence. His bullies either threaten other students from joining his club or just with their mere presence looming over him making it a bug spray from people joining in fear of being bullied too, an outcast. And none of the teachers are willing to help him, turning a blind eye to his suffering.

The boy wielding the cigarette, the orchestrator of physical pain, grinned sadistically. His eyes gleamed with a twisted satisfaction, relishing the impending torment he was about to unleash. His malicious chuckle echoed through the narrow passage, setting the stage for the cruel spectacle about to unfold.

"Let's see if our little filmmaker here can create a masterpiece out of this," he declared, the glowing tip of the cigarette drawing closer to Junpei's arm. The ominous glow cast eerie shadows on Junpei's face, anticipation thickening the air like a foreboding storm.

Junpei, his face expressionless, endured the pain with a stoic demeanor. The burning sensation seared into his skin, but he refused to grant them the satisfaction of witnessing his suffering. However, he could tell from the corner of his eyes as his fingers twitched in pain. It seemed like the male noticed too as his grin widened in glee, knowing that he still could cause pain to Junpei. In a way, the sight was one to have more damage on him than the burn.

Meanwhile, the storyteller of their group right now, a boy with an ominous aura, continued his eerie narrative about the haunted warehouse. "You know, Junpei, we were thinking of visiting that haunted warehouse everyone's been talking about. The one where people vanish without a trace. Wouldn't it be a blast?" Just by the question alone, he could already imagine why he asked him that.

The mocking laughter echoed louder, mingling with Junpei's internal disdain for the world. People are evil, he thought, the refrain echoing in his mind like a haunting melody.