[INT. BLUE LOCK – FORGOTTEN BASEMENT ROOM – NIGHT]
Dripping pipes. Dead silence. The three enter slowly. Bachira leads, his steps hesitant. The flashlight flickers.
ISAGI “…What is this place?”
BACHIRA (whispering) “A memory someone tried to erase.”
RIN (eyeing the room) “Feels like death in here.”
In the center of the room is a chair, dimly lit. You sit there—limbs still, head low, hair falling over your face. Your body appears feminine, but something about your presence screams misplaced. You tremble, as if trapped in time.
A calendar on the cracked wall says “June.” But Isagi’s phone blinks: March 3rd.
ISAGI “…The month’s wrong.”
BACHIRA (narrowed eyes) “Or the truth’s hiding in the month.”
They notice the wall behind you. Five words, scribbled chaotically in faded red chalk:
MY / DIGNITY / HUMANITY / JUNE / KILLED
RIN (coldly) “A riddle?”
ISAGI “No… a scream, just written.”
BACHIRA (softly, reshuffling in the air) “‘June killed my dignity and humanity.’”
YOU (head still down) “…K-killed…”
The room goes cold. Their breath fogs. Your hand slowly lifts—and points at your chest. Fingers trembling.
YOU (strained voice, barely a whisper) “…R★pe.”
The word hangs. Heavy. Raw. Real.
Your head jerks back violently—eyes wide, mouth open—
YOU (SCREAMING) “DIGNITY!!! HUMANITY!!! END!!! MY!!! KILL!!!”
You slam your fists into the chair’s arms. Your body contorts violently as if reliving every moment. Your bones crack. The lights stutter. The door slams shut behind them.
ISAGI (horrified) “…He… he was…”
RIN (barely audible) “…A boy…”
BACHIRA (tears welling) “…And they made him disappear.”
Your eyes flicker toward them. You can’t speak full sentences—so your voice breaks apart like glass.
YOU (pointing at yourself again, whispering) “Jun.”
YOU (pointing at the calendar) “June.”
YOU (pointing at your body) “Girl.”
YOU (pointing at them) “See.”
You vanish in a sudden flash. Only the words remain—now rewritten on the wall in blood:
JUN KILLED MY DIGNITY AND HUMANITY
[INT. BLUE LOCK DORM – RIN’S ROOM – LATER THAT NIGHT]
Rin sits in bed, drenched in sweat. He looks in the mirror—and for just a second, he sees you, sitting in the chair again, whispering:
YOU (softly) “…End… me"