Fractured Bonds

Yuki’s chest heaved, his breaths shallow and uneven, as if his lungs were bound by invisible chains. The sterile scent of disinfectant clung to the air, mixing with the low hum of medical equipment. His wrists stung where the restraints had dug into his skin, and his arms ached from the countless needles that had pierced them.

He couldn’t move.

Blinding lights overhead flickered erratically, casting shifting halos across the stark white ceiling. Voices echoed around him, distorted and muffled, like they were coming from underwater.

“How could we have missed this?” His mother’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and laced with panic.

“Nothing happened from his mods—what went wrong?” another voice snapped back.

“This worked with the girl. Why isn’t it working for him?”

Yuki’s head lolled to the side, too heavy to lift. A cold rush shot up his arm as yet another injection entered his bloodstream, the sharp sting barely registering through the fog. His vision blurred further, the voices fading in and out like a faulty signal.

“He’s waking up,” someone whispered urgently.

The world spun, tilting and twisting, before plunging into darkness.

//

Yuki jolted awake, gasping for air. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the soft glow of his bedside lamp and the metallic sheen of the walls. The familiar hum of his bedroom surrounded him, but his heart pounded as if he were still trapped in that sterile, suffocating void.

Instinctively, he glanced down at his arm. Just below his elbow, a faint injection mark stood out against his pale skin, surrounded by a faint redness.

The door creaked open, and his mother stepped inside. Her expression was calm, her movements deliberate and composed.

“Oh, dear,” she said lightly, her tone almost too casual. “You passed out at the dinner table. Gave us all quite the scare.”

Yuki’s lips parted, but no words came out.

Her gaze followed his to the mark on his arm. A soft laugh escaped her, airy and dismissive. “Oh, what's that? Must’ve been a bed bug,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Thought they got rid of those ages ago.”

Yuki stared at her, his throat tightening. He wanted to confront her, to demand answers, but his voice felt trapped. He knew he hadn’t passed out at the table. He knew they hadn’t taken him directly to his bedroom.

Something was deeply, horribly wrong.

She crossed the room and sat at the edge of his bed, her presence heavy and suffocating. “You’re fine with not going to school, then?” she asked, her voice soft now.

The memory of the party flooded back—the stares, the whispers, the crushing weight of expectation. Yuki clenched his fists on his lap. “Yeah,” he muttered.

For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick and tense.

Then Yuki broke it, his voice barely above a whisper. “Ma, is there… something wrong with me?”

His mother froze, her eyes widening just slightly before her composed mask slipped back into place.

She reached out, cupping his cheek with a cool, gentle hand. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll fix you, Yuki,” she said softly, her voice like a lullaby.

With that, she stood, smoothing the fabric of her dress before leaving the room.

Fix him.

Yuki pulled his knees to his chest, her words echoing in his mind: I’ll fix you, Yuki.

So there was something wrong with him.

//

Jun stumbled back, clutching his jaw as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. “Why are you always hitting me?!” he groaned, spitting onto the cold, concrete floor of the underground room.

Maya stood before him, fists clenched, her eyes blazing with fury. “You didn’t bring that woman’s research. You could’ve brought him!”

“Goddamn it, Maya! I told you, I didn’t find the USB,” Jun snapped, his voice raw as he wiped the blood from his lip.

“Oh, and Yuki? You didn’t find him either?” she hissed, stepping closer until her shadow loomed over him. “Now I’m going to have to bring him myself—”

She raised her fist again, but before she could strike, a deep, resonant voice echoed through the room, freezing the tension in place.

“Maya.”

Both of them turned toward the sound, their postures stiffening.

An elderly man emerged from the shadows, leaning heavily on a cane that tapped rhythmically against the floor. His presence was commanding, each step exuding authority. Deep lines creased his face, and his sharp eyes, framed by heavy brows, held a quiet power.

“Counselor,” Maya said begrudgingly, lowering her fist.

Jun straightened, his jaw tightening as he gave a curt nod. “Counselor.”

The man’s piercing gaze shifted between the two of them, his expression one of measured disappointment.

“What have I taught you about patience, sweet girl?” he asked, his tone gentle but firm.

Maya’s shoulders slumped slightly, her fiery demeanor tempered by his words. She looked down, her lips pressing into a pout.

“These are delicate times,” the counselor continued, his voice calm but unyielding. “Recklessness will not serve our cause. You must keep your allies close.”

“She’s not my ally,” Jun muttered under his breath.

The counselor's gaze snapped to him, sharp and unrelenting. “What was that, Jun?”

“Nothing,” Jun murmured, averting his eyes.

The counselor studied him for a moment longer before returning his attention to Maya. “Patience, my dear. Your time will come. But until then, we must act with precision. Understood?”

Maya nodded reluctantly, her eyes still simmering with frustration.

Satisfied, the man turned and walked away, the rhythmic tapping of his cane fading into the distance.

As soon as he was gone, Maya rounded on Jun, her glare icy and unforgiving. “I don’t care if you’ve known him your entire life,” she spat. “His sacrifice is vital for our future.”

Jun didn’t respond. His gaze dropped to his watch, his fingers fidgeting as if waiting for something—anything—from Yuki.

Maya groaned, throwing her hands up. “I’m going back to that dumb college tomorrow, and I’m bringing him with me. Don’t try anything stupid until then.”

Jun’s eyes narrowed at her words as he powered off his watch with a sharp motion.

“Okay?!” Maya snapped, her voice rising.

Jun turned, raising his middle finger in a silent retort before walking away.

“Oh, that little—” Maya growled, her fists clenching as she watched him disappear into the shadows.