Sharp Steel

The silence was louder than a scream.
Ronja still glared down at her, but now she wasn’t thinking. She looked like she knew exactly what to do next.
Alishia stayed motionless. Her hands twitched, but she didn’t move. Ronja’s gaze was steady and heavy. Her knife caught the light.

“You will never forget this, Alishia. I promise you that,” Ronja said, smirking.
She flung Alishia’s hair, forcing her eyes to meet hers. The knife pressed lightly against her cheek.

Alishias heart pounded.

"Look at me," Ronja whispered, almost casually, savoring every second. "Every single time you think you’re safe… you’ll remember this."

Her stomach twisted—words didn’t need to make sense. The weight of them—the inevitability—pressed down harder than the knife ever could.
Ronja moved the knife slowly against her cheek, Alishia felt a painfully sharp sting from the small scratch it left.

"You know…" Ronja said, pressing lightly again, "if I were your mother, I would have dropped you off in that junk house too."

Suddenly, the pain faded slightly, and fear loosened its grip.

What did she just say?

Something else rose inside Alishia.

"I bet your mother… was so happy when she left you too," Ronja continued, her voice dripping with cruelty.

Alishia...just snapped.
She didn’t know what it was, but she had never felt such rage—not even when Ronja had humiliated her at school or cornered her in the breakroom.
This was different. This was personal.
It was enough. It was finally enough. She wasn’t just fed up—she was exploding with rage after years of bullying.

But it wasn’t only the words—It was the way Ronja looked at her while saying them. The way she spoke as if she knew exactly what had happened with her mother, as if Alishia's mother were worthless.

She punched Ronja square in the nose.

Ronja didn’t fall. Her head snapped back slightly, her hand shot to her face, clamping over her nose as blood slipped between her fingers. She sucked in a sharp breath, shoulders tight, and stared at the floor for a second—actually hurt.

Alishia took the chance and ran...but she didn’t get far.

Hachiko grabbed her arm and yanked her back, slapping her hard across the face. Pain exploded in her jaw, a bitter taste flooding her mouth—but she didn’t stop. As he swung again, she twisted and drove her foot into his stomach. He groaned, staggered back. Hachiko clutched himself then Alishia turned and slapped him across the face—loud, sharp. He nearly lost his balance, holding his cheek in shock.

Kim lunged next, fingers tangling painfully in Alishia’s hair. Alishia cried out, then grabbed Kim’s arms, and shoved her away, sending her stumbling.

Behind her, Akio came , locking his grip on her arms. Alishia stomped hard on his foot. Akio gasped, but reached for her again, she twisted and bit down on his arm.

He shouted and recoiled, a clear mark forming on his wrist. Alishia tore free and tried to escape again, not willing to give up.

All at once, a punch slammed into her stomach.

Ronja

The blow ripped the air from Alishia’s lungs. Her vision swam, then another shove crashed into her side, sharper than the first. Her legs gave out and she collapsed. Akio now held her tight.

Ronja stepped closer. One hand still pressed to her nose, blood streaked dark and wet across her fingers.

Her breathing was controlled, as if she never had been hit by Alishia.

“So,” she said quietly. “You really think you can fight back?” She lowered her hand at last, wiping the blood across her sleeve without breaking eye contact. Steady. Unreadable.

Then all she felt was a sharp, crushing push to her stomach. Her head spun, her stomach twisted—she felt dizzy and weak.
There was no time to recover. Another push landed on her left side, sharper than the first.
The hard grip on her wrist, the piercing pain, and the spinning in her head—it was too much. She collapsed, Akio still holding her arms tight. Her breaths came fast and shallow, each one burning her chest, but her mind refused to give up.

Ronja grabbed Alishia by the shirt and pulled her roughly upright. “Get up,” she growled, her voice angry and relentless.
Alishia swayed, her head pounding, her vision blurred, still reeling from the earlier blows. She could barely stand; her legs felt like lead. 

Ronja’s eyes blazed with impatience. She gripped Alishia tighter and hauled her up again. “Get up, filth!”
Alishia barely had the strength to focus, everything around her spinning and throbbing. She didn’t even notice that Ronja’s nose was sore too, from her earlier punch.

Pain, bruising, and dizziness blurred together, but deep down, a spark of defiance still flickered. She knew she couldn’t let herself fall completely—couldn’t give Ronja the satisfaction.

Even if it felt like someone was boiling her, mind and flesh.

She tried so hard, she really did.

“You think you’re so smart, huh?” Ronja spat, her face twisted with rage as she stared straight at Alishia. “That you’re strong now?”
She stepped closer, just inches from Alishia’s face. “You will always be NOTHING but weak trash. Never forget that.”

Then Ronja shoved her. Alishia crashed to the ground, hitting hard, even if she wanted to fight, even if she tried to force herself to move, her body wouldn’t obey—she was too weak, too damaged, too exhausted.

She only heard a loud, ringing sound as she lay on the floor.

“Ronja, that’s too far,” someone said; Alishia couldn’t tell who. Her mind was blurred, her hearing distorted. All she could hear was a high-pitched ringing, but it sounded like Akio.
Voices followed—arguing, shouting—but they felt distant, fragmented, impossible to understand.

She was so tired. Tired of this life. Tired of being nothing. No matter what she did, it would be like this forever.
She just wanted to leave this life behind and never come back.

This feeling, she never felt it like she did right now, as if was a glass full of water breaking, the pressure of the liquid finally shattering her

She imagined how her life could have been—with friends, with a living mother. Oh, how she yearned for her mother. Like a piece of her heart—no, her soul—was missing.

Tears started running down her cheek, mixing with the sting from her scratch.
She closed her eyes, hoping to disappear—to be somewhere else, another world—a magical world.
She just wanted to rest.

But then—sharp.
A sudden, burning pain jolted her awake. Her eyes flew open, and her scream tore out of her, loud and full of agony.
She tried to break free, but was held tight. The pain grew worse with every movement, with every motion Ronja made against her neck using her rusty pocket knife while pushing her head to the side.

Alishia gasped, her breaths coming in ragged bursts as the heat of the pain spread through her body. A dull, burning ache pulsed through her cheek and radiated into her temples, like someone had pressed her heart into fists. Everything hurt, even breathing felt like a battle.

Ronja leaned over her, a satisfied smile on her lips. “Pathetic,” she whispered, her voice pleased. 

Tears mixing with dirt and the sting of Alishia's scratch, the pain radiating through her every cell. Why can’t I move? Why am I not stronger? Her thoughts collided, each memory of Ronja’s words burning in her mind.

Ronja grabbed her shirt again, holding her. “Come on, filth. Show me you’re not completely worthless.”

Alishia wavered, her legs giving way beneath her, her vision swimming.

Every breath a struggle, but Ronja allowed her no moment to breathe. She felt her gaze drilling into her, the humiliation, the control—it all pushed her down.

“Look at you… barely standing. You think you’re anything? You’re worthless. Worth nothing at all,” Ronja continued, her tone slow and merciless, each word striking Alishia’s already shattered sense of self.

She wanted to scream, wanted to run, wanted to vanish from the world. But every movement sent fresh waves of pain through her. All she wanted was a single moment of peace, a breath without pain, without Ronja’s mocking eyes.

Her strenght faded, the last remnants of energy draining away.

Ronja released her for a heartbeat, only to assert control again. “Remember this feeling, Alishia. This is what happens when you think you matter.”

Alishia tried to get up but somehow managed to find her way trembling because of pain to Ronja, her legs slowly giving up, her head pounding from the previous blows. Panic surged, urging her not to fall—but her body felt heavy, unresponsive.

She stumbled forward, desperate to escape, but Ronja’s speed was terrifyingly fast. In an instant, her arm shot out. Alishia barely had time to react before she tripped, crashing to the ground. The impact sent a jolt through her entire body. 

Alishia had never seen her like this.

Before she could gather herself, Hachiko and Kim closed in, pinning her arms and holding her down, even if they were shocked too. Every movement she made was met with resistance. She struggled, twisting, thrashing, but the more she fought, the tighter their grip became. Every push and shove left her dazed, her vision swimming, her mind fogged. Her head spun, the weight of her exhaustion pressed down, and for the first time, she felt the raw, terrifying edges of her own fragility.

She tried desperately to move—nothing except a blur of anger, fear, and helplessness. Why can’t I move faster? she thought, frustration burning hot inside her. 

Why can’t I fight back? Every fiber of her body screamed to fight, to escape, but her muscles betrayed her even if her mind wasn't. She was trapped. 

Ronja leaned in, her voice low, cold, slicing through Alishia’s fogged mind. “Tomorrow… 36,000 yen at 10 A.M.,” she hissed, each word deliberate, unyielding. “You bring it. I don’t care how you do it. Every last yen. Or this… was only a taste of what’s coming.”

When they finally left, Alishia was still lying on the ground—alone.
Her tears were silent now. She nursed her scratch, feeling its sting, but mostly she felt the weight of everything else.
In that moment, she wished for nothing more than a helping hand—...but none came.

So she swallowed the pain and the fear, knowing she would have to get up somehow. She had to find the money.
Because if she didn’t… today would be nothing compared to the pain awaiting her in the future.

She did not know why, but somewhere, deep inside, she knew she had to survive this.

I just have to...