(One year later)
The Black Zone remained the same.
The alleys still smelled of rust and damp trash, fights still broke out without warning, and the sky stayed gray and heavy, as if it were always on the verge of collapsing. But for Rumi, something had changed—even if she would never admit it out loud.
She was sixteen now.
She had grown up too fast, like everything in that place. Her face had lost much of its childish softness, replaced by an alert, wary gaze. Her body was stronger, not by choice, but by necessity. In the Black Zone, weakness was an invitation.
And Mike… Mike was always nearby.
At fifteen, he was no longer the thin, frightened boy she had saved in the alley. He was still lean, but his movements were steadier now, and there was something different in his eyes: determination. Not the arrogance common among boys of the Black Zone, but a quiet will to not be crushed by it.
Rumi pretended not to notice.
But she did.
They met almost every day now. Sometimes on purpose. Sometimes "by chance."
Mike always found a way to appear wherever she was—at the rusted park, near the improvised stalls, or along the paths that led to the most abandoned areas. At first, he spoke little about himself, but over time, words began to slip out.
It was one afternoon, sitting on the ground behind a collapsed building, sharing a piece of stolen food, that Mike spoke more than usual.
"I don't have anyone anymore," he said suddenly, staring at nothing.
Rumi didn't answer, but she didn't get up either. For her, that already meant listening.
"My mother died when I was little. My father…" He let out a humorless laugh. "I never knew where he ended up. Maybe he died too. Or maybe he just left."
He clenched his fingers tightly.
"I've survived on my own ever since. I steal when I have to. I run when I can. I get beaten when I can't."
Rumi finally turned to look at him.
"You should learn to run better," she said.
Mike blinked… and smiled.
"You care."
"No," she replied too quickly. "I'm just being realistic."
But something about that conversation lingered.
From that day on, Mike began to train.
Not in any organized way. Not with technique. Just running, fighting other boys, failing, getting beaten, and coming back the next day. Rumi watched from a distance, always pretending not to care.
Sometimes she corrected his posture.Sometimes she threw out a dry comment.Sometimes she simply stayed there.
For Mike, that was everything.
"I'm going to get out of here one day," he said once, as they watched the distant lights beyond the walls of the Black Zone. "I'll get strong. Truly strong."
Rumi let out a quiet laugh.
"Big dreams get you killed here."
"Then I'll survive them," he replied.
She said nothing.
But that night, she took longer than usual to fall asleep.
In the days that followed, Rumi began to notice something strange.
People were watching Mike.
Not kids. Not ordinary gangs.
Adults.
Looks that lingered too long. Presences that appeared and vanished too quickly. Like shadows that didn't belong to the light that cast them.
She felt the same chill she had felt a year earlier.
Instinct.
Something was wrong.
"Mike," she said one night, stopping in the middle of the road. "If someone strange talks to you… run."
He frowned.
"Why?"
"Because."
He hesitated, then nodded.
"Will you run with me?"
Rumi looked away.
"Don't count on me forever."
But for the first time, Mike realized something she had never said out loud:
She was trying to protect him.
And in the Black Zone, protecting someone was the most dangerous act of all.
From atop a ruined building, a silhouette watched the two of them walk away.
A man dressed in dark clothes, with a metallic symbol fastened to his chest.
His eyes gleamed faintly.
"So it's you," he murmured. "The boy."
The gears had already begun to turn.
And Rumi still didn't know that this year would be the last one in which things would remain… simple.
...
(The next day)
[At the park]
It was night, and the moon was full. The sky was clear, free of clouds. At that moment, Mike was sitting on the ground in front of what looked like a small campfire. It was lit, and the fuel he was using consisted of old clothes he had found in the trash on the street.
Mike kept looking from side to side, as if he were waiting for someone. He seemed anxious—so anxious that he didn't even notice a spark from the fire falling onto his clothes.
A moment later, he realized it when the spark burned through the fabric and touched his skin.
"Ow! Ow! Ow! Fire—put it out!" he shouted in pain, quickly grabbing a bottle of water beside him and pouring it onto his chest, right where he felt the burning.
After dousing himself with water, he sneezed and shivered.
"So cold!" Mike exclaimed.
"Where is Rumi? Why is she taking so long?" he muttered.
The person he had been waiting for all this time was Rumi, and the reason he was so anxious was because this was the first time she had asked to meet him. Normally, he was the one who went after her. Because of that, he couldn't help feeling nervous.
While Mike was lost in thought, footsteps could be heard slowly approaching from behind him.
Then a shadow appeared, cast by the light of the campfire, and a voice spoke.
"Hey, Mike, why are you all wet?" Rumi asked, looking at him while holding a bag in her hand.
Hearing Rumi speak so suddenly, Mike was startled and jumped forward—leaping right over the campfire.
Rumi just stared at him with a confused expression and thought, What is he doing?
After looking ahead and realizing it was Rumi who had spoken, Mike calmed down, relaxed, and said,
"Are you trying to scare me to death, Rumi?"
She simply shot him a look and replied,
"No. But let this be a lesson for you to pay more attention to your surroundings," Rumi said in a serious tone as she sat down near the campfire.
Not knowing how to respond, Mike remained silent and sat down beside her, close to the campfire. Then he glanced at the bag she had placed on the ground and asked,
"What did you bring there, Rumi?"
Rumi looked at the bag. "Well, there's something really good in here that I managed to get." She then picked up the bag and pulled out two bottles.
Mike stared at them with a confused expression and said, "And what is that?"
Rumi gave a smile she had never shown before, one that caught Mike completely off guard.
"This is nothing more and nothing less than two bottles of wine!" Rumi exclaimed, hugging the bottles.
"Wine?! How did you get that? That's something really rare in the Black Zone, Rumi."
"Well, how else do you think I got it? Of course I stole it—and I made sure to grab two bottles, one for each of us."
"You stole it?! From where?" Mike asked.
"Where doesn't matter," Rumi replied, handing one of the bottles to him. "Let's just drink, Mike."
At that moment, Mike grew a little tense, unsure of how to react. All he could hear was his heart pounding in his chest. He took another gulp of the wine and finally decided to say something.
"Rumi… I want to say something."
She looked at him.
"I lo—"
Rumi placed a finger in front of his mouth, stopping him from speaking.
"You don't need to say anything, Mike," she said with a soft smile.
And maybe it was the atmosphere, or the drink, or perhaps her own feelings finally slipping through—
Rumi moved quickly and kissed him.
Just like that.
At that moment, the shadow cast by the fire showed two silhouettes close together.
Mike tried to pull away from Rumi and said, "Wait a second," his face flushed red.
"What is it? Don't you like it?" Rumi asked, her face also red, but if one looked closely into her eyes, it was clear that she was nervous too.
Mike looked at her. "It's not that… it's just that I've never done this before," he admitted.
Hearing that, Rumi laughed and said, "Me neither."
"I see," Mike replied, his voice shaky.
"Then, Mike… do you want to continue?" Rumi asked.
"Yes."
Hearing his answer, Rumi kissed him again, and this time Mike didn't try to pull away. He wrapped his arms around her instead.
And that night, the two of them shared the deepest connection they possibly could.
...
(Next Day)[On a High Place in the Black Zone]
The wind blew strongly at that elevated spot, carrying with it the heavy, metallic smell of the Black Zone. Rumi was sitting on the edge of a broken slab, her legs swinging over the void, while Mike stayed beside her, a little farther back, still getting used to the height.
From up there, the Black Zone stretched out like a sea of concrete and scrap. Twisted buildings, flickering lights, smoke rising from different points. Small fires glowed here and there, like weak stars trapped on the ground. It was ugly. Chaotic. Cruel.
It was their home.
Following Rumi's gaze, Mike noticed something beyond the Black Zone for the first time. In the distance, separated by massive walls and towering metal structures, a portion of the city of Techno could be seen. The buildings were taller, organized, illuminated by clean, constant lights. It looked like another world.
And in the middle of that distant landscape, something stood out.
The Coliseum.
Even from afar, its structure was impossible to ignore. Enormous, circular, and imposing, it stood like a symbol carved between two completely different worlds. A place where lives were decided under applause.
Mike swallowed hard.
"...It's big, isn't it?" he murmured.
Rumi nodded slowly.
"Too big for a place made of blood," she replied, her voice calm but carrying something deeper.
She wrapped her arms around her knees, her eyes fixed on the Coliseum.
"They say that people who go there are already destined to die," Rumi said. "It's a place where people like us are used as nothing more than entertainment for the rich."
Mike said nothing. He just looked at her in silence.
Clap!
Rumi brought her hands together.
"But that doesn't matter to us," she said. "Let's go down now. Let's see if we can gather some money and buy something other than hard bread."
"Right, let's go," Mike replied.
The two of them climbed back down to the street.
When they reached the main road and approached the park, the atmosphere changed.
The distant noise of the Black Zone was still there—voices, metal clanging, hurried footsteps—but Rumi felt that something was wrong. A chill ran down her spine.
Then a figure slowly emerged from a narrow alley.
A tall man, far too thin, wearing worn-out clothes and with sunken eyes. His unshaven beard barely hid a face marked by exhaustion and desperation. He walked with determination, blocking their path.
Mike stopped abruptly.
His heart sank.
"...Dad?" he said, almost without a voice.
Rumi immediately turned to look at him.
The man gave a crooked smile at the word.
"It's been a while, boy," he said, his voice hoarse. "You've grown."
Mike instinctively took a step back.
"What do you want?" he asked, tense.
The man sighed, running a hand over his face.
"What I want doesn't matter. What matters is what you're worth now."
Rumi frowned.
"Worth?" she repeated, stepping forward and partially placing herself in front of Mike.
The man finally seemed to notice her.
"Don't interfere, girl," he said. "This is a family matter."
"Doesn't look like it," Rumi replied coldly. "Looks more like someone trying to sell another person."
The man's smile widened.
"Smart," he clicked his tongue. "I have debts. Lots of them. And the Coliseum pays well for strong young people. Especially the ones who haven't been broken yet."
Mike felt his stomach churn.
"You… you're going to sell me?" he asked, his voice trembling.
The man looked away for a second.
"That's just how it works, boy." He took a step forward. "Now come with me. It doesn't have to hurt."
Before he could get any closer, Rumi stepped fully in front of Mike.
"Take one more step," she said in a low, firm voice, "and I'll break your leg."
The man laughed.
"You? A skinny little girl like that?"
He suddenly lunged forward, trying to grab Mike by the arm.
He failed.
Rumi moved fast.
She twisted her body and struck the man's wrist with a sharp blow, making him cry out and recoil. Before he could recover, she followed up with a direct kick to his stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs.
"Nggh…!"
The man stumbled back, furious.
"You bitch!"
He tried to hit her with a heavy punch, but Rumi ducked and slammed her full strength into his knee. The crack was audible.
"AAAAAH!"
The man dropped to his knees, screaming in pain.
Rumi didn't stop.
She shoved him hard, sending him crashing onto his back, and stepped on his chest, pressing down just enough to keep him from getting up.
"Touch him again," she said, staring straight into his eyes, "and I won't stop at your leg."
The man struggled to breathe, his face twisted in pain and hatred.
"You… you don't know what you're getting into…"
"I know exactly," Rumi replied. "People like you sell everything. Even your own child."
She lifted her foot from his chest and took a step back.
"Stay out of his life. Now."
Rumi then turned her back, leaving Mike's father lying on the ground, and began walking toward Mike. But when she looked at him, he seemed nervous and terrified, his mouth about to open to say something.
"Rumi, watch out!!" Mike shouted.
Rumi tried to turn around quickly, but when she did, a tall man was already behind her. He struck her in the face with a powerful punch, catching her completely off guard.
Rumi tried to defend herself, but it was too late. The blow had already landed, and the force of it slammed her into the ground.
The pavement cracked from the impact, and Rumi lay there, almost unconscious.
The man then looked at Mike's father and said,
"You said your son was valuable, but it seems I've found a girl who's far more valuable. I'll be generous and sell her to the Coliseum, and I'll take all the money as payment. What do you say? Do we have a deal?"
The man stared at him, and out of pure fear, he simply nodded in agreement.
"Great."
Rumi felt the world spin.
The impact still echoed in her skull, the taste of iron filling her mouth. She tried to move her body, but everything responded with delay—too heavy, too distant. Her vision came in flashes: the cracked ground, the silhouette of the man above her, the trembling gray sky.
And then she saw him.
Mike.
He stood frozen for a second, caught between fear and despair. His eyes were wide, his chest rising and falling too fast, as if the air itself wasn't enough.
No… Rumi thought, trying to speak, trying to scream. Don't come.
But Mike came.
"Let her go!" he shouted, his voice breaking as he ran toward the man without thinking, without strategy—only with his heart.
The tall man turned his head slowly, surprised for a moment… and then he smiled.
Mike threw himself at him, landing an awkward punch to his abdomen. It hurt. It hurt badly. It was like hitting stone. Even so, he didn't stop. Another punch. And another. His hands trembled, his knuckles burned, but he kept going.
"I said let her go!" he shouted again, tears streaming down his face without him even realizing it.
The man sighed, impatient.
"What an annoying kid…"
With a single motion, he grabbed Mike by the throat and lifted him off the ground. The boy's feet kicked the air in desperation.
"Mike!" Rumi finally managed to shout, her voice hoarse and weak.
Hearing his own name made Mike turn his face toward her.
And he smiled.
Even while suffocating. Even with tears in his eyes.
"Rumi…" he forced the words out. "I… I said I would protect you…"
The man tightened his grip.
Rumi tried to get up. She tried to drag her broken body across the ground. Her nails scraped against the cracked concrete, leaving bloody marks behind.
"Stop… please…" she begged, hating how weak she sounded.
Mike's father watched from a distance, trembling, unable to move. A coward to the very end.
Mike began to lose strength. His kicks grew slower. His breathing faltered.
Even so, he raised one arm with difficulty… and pushed against the man's hand, even though he knew it wouldn't make a difference.
"Live…" he whispered, looking at Rumi. "For both of us…"
The man lost his patience.
"That's enough."
The dry sound that followed echoed through the street.
Rumi felt something inside her shatter completely.
Mike's body hit the ground like just another piece of the Black Zone. No sound. No movement.
Silence.
A cruel, absolute silence.
"MIKE!" Rumi screamed, pain tearing through her throat.
She managed to crawl to him, pulling him close with trembling arms. His face was still calm. Almost peaceful. His half-open eyes reflected the gray sky.
"No… no… you promised…" she murmured, resting her forehead against his. "You promised…"
The man watched the scene without emotion.
"What a shame." He turned to Mike's father. "But debts are debts."
Then he bent down and grabbed Rumi by the hair, dragging her away from Mike's body with brutal force.
She didn't resist.
Not because she didn't want to.
But because everything she was in that moment… had been left there on the ground with him.
As she was dragged away, Rumi looked back one last time.
She engraved that image into her soul.
And in that instant, something changed.
The girl who only wanted to survive one more day died there.
What remained… was someone who would never forget.
Never forgive.