Grade A: Fellow Inmate
I came to my senses and looked around.
I simply hadn't noticed, too busy struggling to stay on my knees. The bus was packed with women.
At the guards' command, they all rose as one and formed a single line down the center aisle.
But why was everyone staring at me?
The woman who'd been screaming at me earlier, and every other woman besides — they were all looking my way, murmuring among themselves.
Apparently, I looked pitiful in their eyes.
"Quiet! Unless you want a beating, shut your mouths and move out slowly! Watch it up front! One at a time!"
At the guard's order, the women began filing off the bus one by one.
Once the Grade B and Grade C women had all departed, the bus fell silent in an instant.
Left behind in that place thick with silence was me.
And… one naked woman sitting across from me with her head bowed.
Just the two of us remaining.
"…."
"…."
With even the guards gone, she and I exchanged glances across the empty bus.
She was naked and cuffed, same as me.
We didn't need to say a word to know we were both Grade A inmates.
But… that woman.
She was an adult, right?
Curiosity drew my eyes over her, and she looked almost underage. A small frame. Breasts that had some volume but seemed even smaller against her slight build. Flawless skin without a single wrinkle, and a bob that fell to her shoulders — everything about her looked so young.
Of course, given Waltz Production's nature and the identity-verification procedures involved, there was no way she was a minor… but even being generous, she looked like a high schooler, and that was unsettling enough.
…Still. At least I'm not alone.
She looked young, but she was a fellow inmate all the same.
Maybe it was because the guards had already put me through hell from the start, but knowing there was another Grade A inmate besides me was a comfort in itself.
"…."
"…."
Perhaps we were thinking the same thing.
In a situation where neither of us could speak, her gaze locked onto mine.
Eyes that looked me up and down, appraising, searching.
I sensed she wanted to say something, so I met her gaze and answered in kind.
But that effort didn't last long.
"Well, well. Grade A inmates coming in for the first time in a while. And two of them, no less."
Having offloaded every other grade of prisoner, the guards returned and called for us.
I dropped my head low, terrified of meeting their eyes. They split up — one for each of us — and approached at a deliberate pace before issuing their orders.
The man who stopped beside me was the one called Hobbs.
"Alright. Head up."
The moment the command dropped, I snapped my head up.
One punishment had been enough to teach me never to resist them. That was the only reason I could react so fast.
"You two are being transferred to the Grade A facility starting now. From this moment, this officer will provide you with food. Refusal and leftovers are absolutely not permitted. Any inmate who wants more is to ask the officer for seconds. Understood?"
One of the two guards delivered the instructions, looking back and forth between us.
I nodded.
Mealtime, of all things… I was quietly relieved.
I was starving.
How could I not be? I hadn't even managed breakfast, and I hadn't properly eaten dinner the night before either.
The tension and the violence had briefly driven the hunger from my mind, but with nothing in my stomach at all, I felt drained down to the bone.
So when they said they were going to feed us something, I was glad just for that.
"Alright. Open up."
The meal began immediately.
The menu: one small carton of milk and two bananas.
I didn't normally like milk, but I was hungry enough that even that looked welcome.
"Ah… ngh…! Mmph…."
"If you want the milk, just say so. The second you speak, it's a one-shot — ask and you'll get it. Oh, and seconds are available. No need to ration it."
"Mmph… hah… mmph…."
As expected, it was no ordinary meal.
The guard gripped a banana and forced it into my mouth.
It was a fairly large banana — too big to take in one go — but he shoved it in with the strength of his hand anyway, and my mouth filled in an instant.
The sweet scent of banana flooded the back of my throat, but there was no time to savor it.
It was deliberate.
As if performing a deepthroat, the guards crammed the bananas down our throats.
With the fruit relentlessly pushing in, the only thing I could do was swallow it down without properly chewing.
"Ghk…! Hah… mmph…"
I glanced across the aisle. The other woman was in much the same state.
She tried to eat slowly, pursing her small mouth and holding out as best she could, but the moment the guard pressed on her jaw joint, she couldn't endure it and had to open wide.
Even the pieces that fell without making it into her mouth weren't spared.
A small chunk of banana that hadn't passed her lips, lying on the floor.
"You dropped it, so you eat it. Open up."
"…Chomp… mmph…."
The guard deliberately stepped on the fallen banana, mashed it under his boot, and shoved it back into her mouth.
As she chewed the banana pulp mixed with dirt from his shoe, a wet grinding sound came from her mouth.
Her face twisted with misery and pain, but there was nothing she could do.
In fact, even without an order, she chewed that dirt-laced lump of banana as thoroughly as she could and forced it down.
It was a strange sight.
But I understood.
Because my own throat was burning like hell….
"Hah. Hah…."
Swallowing the banana pulp more than chewing it left my throat raw and stinging, as if the friction had scraped it raw.
I'd managed the first banana well enough, but the one that followed was so thick I could barely take it — I felt it scrape the entire length of my esophagus on the way down.
"Um… the milk…."
The moment I finally got the last of the given bananas down, I hurriedly asked Hobbs for the milk.
Originally I'd planned to eat one more banana for a proper meal and then drink the milk, but in my current condition there was no way my throat could take another one.
It didn't just sting — I could taste blood lingering at the back of my mouth.
"Open up. Drink it in one go. Spill even a single drop and I'll make you lick it up."
"…Yes."
The carton opened, and the guard held the milk to my lips.
Fortunately, he didn't seem intent on making me spill it on purpose.
— Gulp.… Gulp.… Gulp.…
I drank loud enough for the sound to carry through the bus.
Maybe because the thirst had been as bad as the hunger?
Even the milk tasted strangely sweet.
And as it coated my esophagus, soothing the places the banana had clawed through, I felt something close to gratitude just for its existence.
"Hah…. Hah…."
"Good girl. Drinking it all down. So. Want another banana?"
The second I finished the milk, Hobbs offered me another banana in a gentle tone.
A plump, appealing banana.
And a small one, at that.
Whether or not he was acknowledging my pain even a little, the way he picked out a smaller one and held it out felt almost kind.
Maybe this was something like a last supper before incarceration.
The sudden shift to gentleness from the guards was unfamiliar, but I couldn't find anything to be suspicious of… so I simply took it as goodwill.
Besides, I'd wanted another one from the start, and the size that had been the sticking point was smaller now. There was nothing holding me back.
And yet.
Some nameless sensation made me hesitate to answer.
"…."
A chill ran through me. I lifted my head.
Looking forward, I met the anxious eyes of the woman sitting across from me.
Why? Why is she looking at me like that?
I could read her heart in those trembling pupils.
She was warning me.
Don't eat it. Her eyes were full of desperate light.
Why? What the hell is wrong with this banana… that she'd look at me with that much fear?
"Hey. What the hell are you doing?"
"…!"
It hadn't been long at all.
A so-called split-second of eye contact — nothing more.
But Machia had caught our exchanged glances. He seized the woman across from me by the hair.
"Huh? What is it?"
Hobbs, beside me, finally sensed something was off. He pulled back the banana he'd been about to feed me and glared between me and the other woman.
"This bitch is signaling 921A-1 with her eyes!"
"Ah…. That so? Let's see. Doing shit like that means… Hey. 921A-2. You're permitted to speak. Talk. How many times is this for you?"
Having grasped the situation, the guards pressed in on her.
Under their suddenly transformed attitudes and questions, the woman opened her mouth, trembling violently.
"I… this is my second time… as Grade A…."
"Oh-ho? Is that right? Figured as much. So how many months was it last time?"
"I… did three months… of incarceration…."
A new fact came to light.
Unlike me, for whom this was the first time, the woman in front of me was on her second term.
"Right. Then how long are you in for this time?"
"…Thirty-six months…."
The moment she answered, several seconds of silence followed.
And then, a beat later—
"Whoa. That's one hardcore bitch. She went through that and still picked thirty-six months? Hahaha. You hear that, Machia?"
"Yeah. They say thirty-six is the maximum, but I've never actually seen a bitch apply for it. Heh heh. She's a real fucking lunatic."
"No kidding. Hahaha."
The two men laughed heartily, as if they'd found a fascinating new toy.
But before long, both of them closed their mouths, narrowed their eyes, and turned on her again.
"So. Thirty-six months. Hey. You got spare energy to worry about someone else? Huh? Unbelievable. Still haven't learned your lesson? Hey. Three months inside and you ought to know the basics. What, you think the guards are a joke? You sex-crazed crazy bitch!!"
"Hic…!"
As the guard glared and roared at her, the woman shook violently and let out a hiccup.
In that terrifying atmosphere I shrank into myself too, biting down hard on my lip.
What kind of punishment would she get?
All she'd done was send a look with her eyes — that was the entire extent of it.
And yet, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, I assumed she would be punished.
I was already conditioned to the irrational.
It felt as though my brain had already become that of a Mazo inmate.
"Alright then. Let's see. Hey, Hobbs — how many bananas left?"
"Five."
"Good. Perfect. Hey. 921A-2. Eat all of these. You can do that, right?"
"…Uh… uuh… th-that's… too much…."
"Too much? Don't give me that. What are you shaking for? It's just eating bananas. And you already know, don't you? That holding out with that attitude doesn't do a damn thing — and you're still refusing with words like that?"
"Ugh… uh…."
"Alright. About three milks left too. Drink every last one. Open up."
"…Uh… uaah… ah… hhk…!"
Fortunately, the punishment wasn't that severe.
For all her violent trembling, the guards kept pleasant expressions on their faces and simply peeled bananas and fed them to her. That was the extent of it.
And yet the terror on her face showed no sign of easing.
I waited in silence, nursing a vague unease of my own.
…No. Should I say I'll take another banana?
Just sitting there waiting, I remembered the guard asking moments ago whether I wanted another one.
It felt like she'd ended up like this trying to help me, and I wanted to lighten her burden even a little.
But in a situation where I still had no idea why being fed bananas terrified her so much, it seemed wiser to hold back than to act rashly.
More than that, I was afraid that if I stuck my neck out, the guards would punish me for it. I couldn't bring myself to step forward.
So… for now, I decided to just endure it.
"Hhk… mmph… ghk…!"
There were clearly a lot of bananas.
Far too many for someone with her small frame to take in.
But there was no escaping the fruit being forced into her.
"Ghk… mmph…!"
"Hey. Swallow already. If you dare chew thoroughly or spit any of it out, the second we arrive I'll have you executed on the spot."
"Mmph… ghk… mmph…!"
At those words, the woman had to swallow the bananas through her tears.
The bananas, gripped in the guards' hands like dildos, were rammed down her throat.
But what was it, really?
Had they drugged the bananas somehow?
However forced the feeding, a banana was still a soft piece of fruit.
There shouldn't have been any pain beyond a sore throat.
And yet her expression kept shifting deeper into despair.
A woman who had already survived one term of incarceration.
Something only she knew — something I didn't — was generating a fear of the unknown.
"Urgh…! Khaah… aah… hah. Hah. Hah."
In the end, including the ones she'd been given at the start, the woman had to swallow a total of seven bananas.
On top of that, she drank all five remaining cartons of milk.
At 200 mL per carton, a full liter had gone into that small body.
"Urgh… hah. Hah…."
Even from the outside, her visibly swollen belly was proof of how severely she'd overeaten.
"Well, look at the time already. We'll be getting off in about ten minutes, so enjoy your last bit of rest."
The storm of a meal over, the guards tidied up the bus, then sat in empty seats and spent the remaining time looking at their personal hologram terminals.
In the meantime, I studied the woman in front of me.
She seemed to be struggling with the discomfort, repeatedly letting out small burps and labored breaths as she tried to settle her body.
Part of me wanted nothing more than to rub her back and soothe her.
"…."
Then our eyes met.
Looks that seemed to want to say something to each other.
The truth was, I felt a strange guilt over the forced feeding she'd endured.
If I had only avoided her gaze.
Or if I had read her eyes faster and dropped my head — maybe she wouldn't have had to cry like this.
A pointless apology circled inside me.
"…."
In the end, I took the risk and slowly turned my head.
A quick glance at the guards showed them absorbed in their own diversions.
They'd loosened up a little — Machia had his back fully turned, legs crossed, leaning back as he stared at his handheld terminal.
Sensing that a small measure of safety had been secured, I shaped my lips into tiny movements and sent my will across to the woman opposite me.
I'm. Sor. Ry.
If I didn't do at least this much, my heart would feel too heavy.
Fortunately, she caught the shape of my mouth immediately.
She gave a small nod, checked our surroundings, and passed a message back the same way.
It's. O. Kay.
All that was exchanged was a four-syllable reply.
But with that single silent conversation, we found a sense of kinship.
There were too many risks to keep talking after that….
But it was the beginning of a new bond between two naked women with their hands bound.
And some time later.
The moment inertia pressed against our bodies.
The guards pocketed the terminals they'd been watching, stretched, and stood up.
"Phew~ Buses really are uncomfortable. Alright. On your feet."
Were we finally getting off this terrifying bus?
But I already knew.
That the moment we stepped off the bus might be the beginning of an even worse hell.