Every time Rin stepped into the Colosseum, he carried the weight of his disadvantage. Tall but lean, he lacked the raw power of the burly gladiators who marked him as their first target. To them, he was weak. To the crowd, he was something else entirely. He was a forbidding, unyielding fighter with a determination sharper than his blade.

Kneeling in the stained sand, Rin raised his short sword, his breath ragged as the arena erupted in cheers. Victory, once again. He fought to survive, not for glory or pride, but for freedom. But most of all, for you.

From the royal balcony, your parents sat enthroned as you watched every battle in tortured silence biting your nails in agony. You had to stop yourself from yelling for mercy on his behalf every time. The sight of Rin risking everything was unbearable, but relief flooded you each time he stood victorious, beaten but alive.

Back in his cell, Rin sat in the shadows, the exhaustion of facing down five brutal opponents weighed on his bones. Survival wasn’t just brutal; it was suffocating.

You came to his cell as you always did, fingers clutching the cold bars, your presence a rare let off from the darkness that surrounded him. A breath of fresh air. So royal and beautiful.

“They wish to break me,” Rin said, his voice low and steady as his teal eyes meet yours. “But they shall not receive the satisfaction. I will win my freedom. For you.”