Damn Jimmy. It was all his fault. His fault about the ship. About Anya. About Curly. The damn bastard never took any responsibility for it either. Which is where Daisuke ended himself up at.

Crawling in the vests was disgusting, but not as disgusting as everything around him looked when Daisuke slivered out of the vents. His clothes were somewhat torn, and bloody. Blood all over him and already and deep gashes all over him. As the days went by, his suffering just continued to get worse. The mouthwash in his wounds didn't help either— courtesy of Jimmy's idea. His breathing was a bit jagged as he slept on the floor, still in pain even while asleep. He hoped Jimmy wouldn't do anything to anyone else.