Chapter 5 Chapter 5

CLEO’S POV;

"Stop. Stop right now," Kenji whispered frantically, his eyes darting to the security dome on the ceiling before landing back on me.

​I was kneeling on the stainless-steel bench, a thick slab of boiled pork gripped in my fist, broth and fat dripping down my chin onto my white sweatpants.

I didn't care though.

​Kenji reached across the table, forcefully sliding a pair of metal chopsticks and a heavy spoon into my greasy palm.

​"You are an eighteen-year-old human being, not a rabid street creature," he hissed under his breath, leaning over his plate.

"Use the utensil! You look like you're trying to devour a carcass!"

​I gripped the metal spoon like a shiv, my thumb pressed against the bowl as I stared at him, my mouth still full, and muttered, "Me hungry. Spoon is slow."

​Kenji stopped mid-chew and blinked once. Twice. Then he rubbed his temples, letting out a long, suffering groan that vibrated against the table.

​"Okay, first of all, your grammar just gave me a physical headache," Kenji muttered, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Me hungry? Spoon is slow? You sound like a caveman who just discovered fire! You're clearly fluent enough to understand me, so why are you speaking in broken noise?!"

​"I dont know," I said flatly, pointing the tip of the spoon at his nose. "No school. No books. Only pipe. And darkness. You talk too much words."

​"It's 'too many' words, you absolute alien," Kenji corrected, though his eyes softened slightly.

"Fine. New rule. If I'm going to be tethered to you by five feet of high-voltage wire, I am not going to listen to you butcher the language. I'm teaching you how to read and speak properly. Maybe write too."

​"No books around here," I said, scooping an awkward mouthful of rice with the spoon, trying not to drop it.

​Kenji’s lips twisted into a sharp, mischievous line, his eyes glinting. "Then we're going to steal some."

—-

​An hour later, back inside the suffocating white box of our cell, the real nightmare began.

​"Okay, let's practice again," Kenji said, pacing back and forth across the floor while I sat on thebed.

"When the guard answers the distress signal on the tablet, you have to look terrified. You have to tell them I am dying. Can you look terrified?"

​I stared at him. I squeezed my eyes shut, pulled my lips back over my teeth, and let out a guttural hiss.

​Kenji froze, staring at me in utter horror. "Jesus Christ, Cleo! You look like a demon possessed by a feral cat! No! Not angry-scared! Pity-scared! Like... 'Oh no, my precious partner is passing away, please help us!'"

​"He is dying," I said in a completely flat, monotone voice, staring at the wall with zero expression.

"His blood is bad. Take him."

​"You sound like an executioner reading a warrant!" Kenji threw his hands in the air, groaning dramatically.

"Okay, change of plans. You don't speak at all. Just stand there, look creepy, and let a master actor handle the stage."

​Kenji grabbed the wall tablet, pressed the emergency medical override, and instantly collapsed onto the floor, curling into a violent ball, clutching his stomach, and letting out a blood-curdling, Oscar-worthy shriek.

​"AHHH! MY SPLEEN! MY INTERNAL ORGANS ARE EXPLODING!" Kenji howled, thrashing against the tile, his face turning red as he forced himself to hyperventilate.

"GET DR. LINC! ONLY DR. LINC KNOWS MY SPECIAL BLOOD CONDITION! AHHH!"

​Two guards burst through the steel door, shock-batons drawn, looking frantic. "Subject 02! What is the emergency?!"

​"Cant you not see i am dying, you uncultured swine?!" Kenji gasped, rolling onto his back, kicking his legs like a dying beetle.

"It's the rare toxicity! Take me to Dr. Linc's office immediately or my corpse will rot in your sector!"

​The guards looked at each other, then at me.

"Is he sick, Subject 01?"

​I looked at Kenji. I looked at the guards. My brain short-circuited.

​"He ate rice," I blurted out, my voice entirely deadpan. "Then… fell on floor and screaming."

​Kenji’s eyes snapped open in sheer, panic-stricken fury. He let out a loud, fake groan to drown out my words, grabbing the guard's boot.

"DONT LISTEN TO HER! SHE'S IN SHOCK FROM WATCHING MY LIFE FADE! DR. LINC! NOW!"

​Three minutes later, we were inside the cold, stainless-steel sanctuary of Dr. Linc's private office.

​The room smelled of rubbing alcohol and expensive leather. Behind a heavy glass desk stood an array of locked cabinets, medical files, and a bookshelf packed with thick, leather-bound volumes.

​Dr. Linc—the same doctor that had these cuffs on our necks and ankles—was putting on a pair of rubber gloves while Kenji lay draped dramatically over the examination table, clutching his throat and whimpering like a tragic prince.

​"Where does it hurt, Subject 02?" Dr. Linc asked, grabbing a long metallic needle from a tray.

"The symptoms sound like acute nerve distress—"

​"It's everywhere, Doctor!" Kenji wailed, throwing his arm over his eyes. "A burning fire in my soul! A deep, visceral agony in my spleen!"

​"Spleen is on the other side," I noted flatly, standing two feet from the table, my eyes scanning the room for weapons. I knew this much from a few photos of the human anatomy i saw in Hirata’s bedroom. "You are holding your liver."

​Kenji’s body went rigid. He slowly lowered his arm, glaring at me with murder in his eyes, before immediately resuming his tragic groaning.

"IT HAS SPREAD TO MY LIVER! SEE?! IT'S REVERSED MY ANATOMY!"

​Dr. Linc frowned, leaning closer, his eyes narrowing through his glasses as he looked between Kenji's theatrics and my completely stone-cold face.

"This is highly unusual. The bio-monitors showed no spike in your heart rate until three minutes ago..."

​"Because my heart is failing, you incompetent quack!" Kenji barked, sitting up slightly.

"Go get the blue adrenaline stabilizer! The one in the outer hall cabinet!"

​"There is no blue stabilizer for—"

​"JUST GET IT!" Kenji shrieked, his voice cracking dramatically.

​Dr. Linc sighed, shaking his head in annoyance. "Stay here. If you bleed on my table, Subject 02, I will personally double your training load tomorrow."

He turned on his heel and stepped out into the hallway, the heavy glass door clicking shut behind him.

​The split second the doctor was out of sight, Kenji snapped upright like a spring. The tragic pain vanished from his face, replaced by a wild, manic grin.

​"You are the worst actor in human history!" Kenji whispered furiously, sliding off the table and darting straight for the doctor's desk.

"He ate rice and fell down?! Really, Cleo?!"

​"It was the truth," I muttered, following him closely so the collars wouldn't trigger.

​Kenji ignored me, his hands moving with lightning speed.

He yanked open a wooden drawer, snatched a thick, leather-bound diary, a heavy astronomy textbook, and a sleek metal pen, shoving them deep into the hidden lining of his jacket.

​Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed outside the glass door. Dr. Linc was coming back.

​"Shit!" Kenji gasped.

​Instead of hiding, Kenji grabbed my hand—his fingers wrapping firmly around my palm—and turned toward the open hallway.

​"Wait! Never mind, Doctor!" Kenji yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing down the corridor as he yanked me along.

"A miracle happened! The spleen cured itself! Praise the Lord!"

​"What?! Subject 02, halt!" Dr. Linc's voice shouted from behind us.

​Kenji didn't stop. He threw his head back and let out a loud, uncontrollable burst of laughter—a sound so rich, wild, and utterly ridiculous.

​I ran beside him, my white sneakers slapping against the cold linoleum. My eyes were locked on his face—on the curve of his mouth, on the bright, manic light in his eyes, on the way he laughed as if we weren't wearing iron collars around our throats.

​What is that?

​My chest felt strange, tight and warm, a sensation I had never felt in the basement, never felt in the dark.