“No one should trust me,” SangJung sat down in front of Trinity’s cell, “But I need you to trust me.”

Trinity didn’t move from her spot; staring out the barred window, looking out to the sky—of whatever freedom she couldn’t touch.

Years had she been in this place. Years of learning how to spit back. Years of SangJung returning.

Like many other children in this place, she was forced to mature in her cobblestone walls without granted a friend. Undergoing body changes—growing up—was most difficult when no one was there to tell her what exactly was happening to her and if it were normal or not.

These people were black to her—the black hole in her heart.

All the time, back and forth, she thought about what would’ve been different if she weren’t in here. If she’d ever find out who she was.

She didn’t know if she should question humanity or creatures. She didn’t know where she fit in. Back and forth, she stepped in an out of both species and didn’t know where she belonged. She was living in the endless twilight.

It made her uncomfortable to think what was out there. About who knew of her—of them—and what they would do. Were they all the same?

Not one thing in a cell offered her help or consolence. She was clearly on her own and out to survive.

All she wanted was to be human. None of this ‘Daegrent-creature’ thing. She knew how to be human, not some kind of animal. She’d tear at her skin or attempt to rip her wings out, but she’d end up in the infirmary and come back good as new—even though she found no good in it.

She spent years in a cruel place . . . but only one person who was slightly softer than the rest.

  “You come back,” Trinity breathed, “I no understand.”

SangJung stood up again and knocked on the bar a little, “What do you think so far?”

Trinity pursed her lips, looking down from the window. Conclusions were so simple when she had years of thinking.

She slowly turned from the window, unamused with the others’ curiosity, “Cruelty. Pity.”

SangJung scrunched up his mouth and slowly nodded, his side now leaning on the bars, “Good guess. Not right.”

Unafraid of SangJung for years now, she strode up to him, gripping on the bars just to not choke him. To laugh at her was cruelty and to say he wasn’t?

  “You laugh,” she hissed, giving the bar a rough shake before releasing it, “You mock me.”

SangJung looked at her with half a smirk, “Because your answer is generic. I expected the unexpected.”

  “Just because you learn more English does not mean you use big words!” she hissed again, smacking the bar, “To my level, damn it!”

She hit the bar again, trying to show him she clearly wanted him out. He listened to her before and should’ve started taking the hint by now.

SangJung grabbed her wrist and pulled her against the bar roughly, her cheek between two bars uncomfortably and she readied to set him on fire.

  “Let go.”

  “Have you ever considered,” SangJung furrowed his brows, talking into her ear, “Ever thought I may find value of you?”

Trinity wanted to revolt to his teasing. SangJung’s reputation was not one to have feelings or sympathy, but of tactic. He thought of her as a chess piece, nothing else. Her value would be greater if she died.

  “Not that you are the last Daegrent we’ve ever found,” SangJung’s grip felt bruising, “I find value in you, regardless.”

Trinity let him play enough and used her strength to force herself free with ease. For years SangJung showed this type of thought, but Trinity already accepted it as mockery; an insult. She’s been a pawn to everyone else but him and she would’ve allow his turn.

She spat a violent swear at him before returning herself to the window, “All of your lies mean nothing to me.”

  “So I’m not a gentle type,” he clings on the bars, “I cannot prove anything unless you trust me. It is the only way.”

  “I trust only myself,” she held on to the bars of the window, “Years I trust others. And what I get? These scars on my body. Whether it fire, water, claw, electric, or something odd, they give me scars. I no need anymore.”

Sangjung pressed his face between bars, “You hate who you are. I know.”

She flinched slightly.

  “You want to be me. You want to be human,” he pressed on, “I can do that for you. I can. Once I have order of this place, I can let you do whatever you want except leave. Trinity, the world knows what you are and you won’t make it. You are safer here than there. You can be human. I can erase your creature-istic history if you let me.”

  “Stop mocking,” she spat, clenching on to the bars, “My ears bleed.”

  “I’m sincere,” he almost plead, “I mean every word to you.”

Before she could even think about it, she in front of SangJung, gripping his uniform collar through the bars, “Tell me the truth about my baby sibling—I know he was not killed. I’ll believe your word after that.”

SangJung ceased to speak, watching Trinity tremble in hatred towards him. He cleared his throat, “And why would that make you trust me?”

  “Either way, I still hate you,” she gripped harder that her nails cut through the fabric.

SangJung looked at her dead in the eyes and grit his teeth together, “We kept the child alive for as long as the infirmary could. Because his parents were deceased, you were too far, and he had no bond—official or from a parents’ bond—to anyone so he could be saved, he died a year later from failing health.”

Trinity was slowly starting to let go of him when she heard her baby brother had died a long time ago. Because his parents died? She was too far? Lack of bond? It was partially her fault that he’d passed away?

  “You are the only left,” SangJung grasped her wrists, “I can put it all behind you. The memory does not have to be yours anymore when you become human.”

Trinity’s vision blurred and she forced herself away again, backing herself into the corner of her cell and falling, holding her knees to her chest.

  “You are value to me, not because you are the last Daegrent,” SangJung reminded her, “You are value to me because we share something unfortunate. It makes me fond of you.”

Trinity didn’t look up, but listened to him leave in the midst of only hearing her own sadness. She truly lost everyone she loved and she couldn’t get them back unless she died.

But no one was going to let her die—at least not here. But she had no chance of escape, especially with SangJung with her all the time.

Maybe if she didn’t remember anything, it would be better. If she became human, she’d be a different person, and then her memories would truly not be her own. It would be a Daegrent’s memory, not a human.

Maybe she should start trusting SangJung for her own sake.

----Note~-----

I procrastinated on a real chapter because I got stuck. =.=;;;;;

But I made this instead.

Hope you enjoyed. <3

~FlaMinhoe