Gray Memories 2
The facility kept us locked away, and every single day we were forced to endure what they called training—which was really just abuse dressed up in fancy words. Every morning we had to run eight kilometers. After that came a breakfast that looked and tasted like dog food, followed immediately by hand-to-hand combat drills.
But no matter how I thought about it, making us do combat training right after eating felt downright malicious. Our sparring partner was always the same person—my assigned partner. And because that person was Number 200, I ended up vomiting up everything I’d just eaten. Every. Single. Time.
The adults in charge only taught us striking techniques like boxing. They never taught us throws or joint locks like judo. Yet somehow she knew them. And she used them on me. Every day.
Number 200 handed me a bottle of water, her voice bright and teasing.
"Because of you, I’m starting to think I don’t even need to eat breakfast. And where the hell did you learn that technique anyway?"
"Then why are you even here? If your dad’s that strong, he wouldn’t have let them drag you off."
It was a purely innocent question. At least I didn’t have any family. I was genuinely curious why a kid who still had parents had ended up in a place like this.
Number 200’s expression turned slightly bitter as she answered.
"Ah…"
"…Yeah. You’re amazing."
Back then, I couldn’t understand why anyone would sacrifice themselves for someone else. I always put myself first. I was the most important person in my world, and I was willing to sacrifice anyone if it meant saving myself.
"Hey, can you teach me those techniques too?"
"The ones you keep using on me. The throws, the slams, the leg sweeps, the arm locks… Wait, now that I think about it, I’ve taken a lot of punishment."
Number 200 held out her hand. Her smile was so dazzling, so beautiful, that I reached out without thinking. The moment our hands touched, she grabbed mine tightly… and immediately locked me in an armbar.
"Aaaargh!"
"You crazy bitch—aaaargh!!!"
"Let me go, you lunatic!!!"
I stayed trapped in that armbar for a full twenty minutes. That evening I had to eat dinner using only my left hand. Number 200 kept wearing an expression that said she had no idea what she’d done wrong. It was so infuriating that without thinking I smacked her forehead with the spoon I’d been using to eat stew. Naturally, a fight broke out. And of course, I got my ass handed to me.
That damn girl. At the time I’d only learned sloppy boxing, but she mixed boxing, judo, and every other martial art under the sun. There was no way I could keep up.
"Ugh, you really are insane…"
Even while we cleaned up the food that had been knocked everywhere, I kept learning martial arts from her.
After some time passed, the adults started making us spar with the other children too. Honestly, among them were a few with overwhelming physical stats or insane athletic reflexes that made them difficult opponents. But most were easy. Because every single day I was up against a crazy girl who had mastered judo and every other martial art imaginable.
"Hey, how are you so good at martial arts? Even if your dad taught it, isn’t that a bit much? What kind of girl beats people up like a monster?"
"Heavenly Demon? Like the drink you get at the convenience store?"
I remembered seeing Heavenly Demon carts at the convenience store I used to visit as a kid.
"Here we go again, you lunatic."
"Yeah, I still don’t really get what a Heavenly Demon is… but I definitely understand that you’re a crazy girl who far exceeds anything I could ever imagine."
With those words, Number 200 began smacking my forearm. The Heavenly Demon Divine Fist was not some cute, affectionate little tap. My left arm ended up covered in bruises.
"Ow! That actually hurts!"
She taught me what she called the Confucian Punch. Its original form hurt like hell. My right arm ended up with dark purple bruises.
"Hey! That seriously hurts!"
"You’re the one hitting me! What do you have to be in pain about?!"
Number 200 was always telling me stories about the outside world. Anime, movies, dramas, novels, the internet, games… She taught me about so many things. Until then, I hadn’t really minded being trapped in the facility. But after hearing her stories, for the first time I wanted to go outside. I wanted to see the things she described.
For someone who had only ever worried about meals and staying warm, this was the first time I had any interest in anything else.
But of course the adults would never let us leave.
"If I ever get out… I’d like to try that game you keep talking about. From what you say, it sounds incredibly fun."
"Well, the people who make games need to earn money too, right…?"
Number 200 mimed punching me as she spoke. At the time I didn’t understand what a ridiculous statement that was. Later, whenever I saw people raging about reward systems in games, I caught myself hurling the most vicious insults at anyone who dared say something like that.
"Then what’s the most fun game?"
"What kind of game is that?"
"Sounds kind of cliché."
A slap immediately flew at my face.
"Wait, what’s that one about?"
I had no idea what game she was talking about at the time. Later, I really wanted to correct her. Calling it nuclear waste was an insult to nuclear waste. I wanted to tell her to apologize to nuclear waste.
"In what way?"
"No matter how I hear it, that doesn’t sound like compliments. It sounds like insults."
We fought again that day. Of course I still got destroyed. But at least this time I managed to land a punch on her chin.
The next day, the adults gathered us together and handed each of us a small knife. Then they threw a group of bound men and women in front of us. They literally picked them up and tossed them like sacks. The people had gags in their mouths and were making desperate muffled sounds.
The man who seemed to be the leader of the adults crossed his arms and spoke.
"Today's training is murder. No matter how many techniques you learn, they're worthless if you can't use them on people. You must kill these people by the end of today. In three hours, we will release them. However, if even one of them gets away, all of you will die. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
The adults cried and begged, even kneeling and bowing clumsily to plead for their lives. But at the time, I couldn’t understand it. If they lived, we would all die. Were they seriously asking us to die for them?
I thought those people were incredibly selfish.
While everyone else hesitated, I walked forward without any reluctance, knife in hand. I stabbed the woman who had been crying at me right in the shoulder. Warm blood splashed across my face. It felt unpleasant.
That was the extent of my feelings at the time.