Back in the cell, I lay on my bed.
Rash had already stood up and was leaning against the metal frame again, talking as usual.
Before, I had found him annoying.
I still did.
But now—
At least it was entertaining.
"Say," he began, "I was never in Aldaria, but I heard they have a lot of plains. Green grass everywhere. Fields for harvest. Tall mountains, huge lakes, and rivers running through the land."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Is it true?"
I turned my head toward him and met his eyes.
"I don't know."
Rash blinked. Then his eyes widened in disbelief.
"What? You don't know?"
His voice turned sarcastic.
"Did you grow up in a cave or something? How can you not know what your own continent looks like?"
My lips drew a firm line as memories of Elandor resurfaced.
"No," I said quietly. "I just didn't see much of it."
"The area where I lived had wide plains and fields around it. That's all I had seen."
Rash sighed dramatically.
"Wow. Here I am telling you everything I know, and you can't even tell me about your own continent."
Seeing how strangely fixated he was on the topic, I asked,
"But why are you so curious? It's just land. You must have seen plenty of plains and fields already."
Rash turned his face away from me and stared up at the ceiling.
Another sigh escaped him.
"No."
His voice was softer now.
"I've never seen them."
I shifted slightly on the bed and turned my body toward him.
"I was born and raised in Labet," he continued. "Out there, everything is the desert."
"Mountains. Dunes. Plains."
He gave a small shrug.
"In the end, they're all just sand."
"The green plains and blue rivers I'm talking about… Labet doesn't have anything like that. I never left Labet. And when I came here, there was nothing to see either. Just the inside of a wagon… and then a ship."
He paused for a moment before turning back toward me.
A small smile rested on his lips.
"That was my dream. Just once, I wanted to see those green plains everyone talked about."
His eyes trembled slightly as he spoke. The smile remained on his face, but it looked fragile—as if it might break at any moment. Before it could, he turned his head away.
His next words barely rose above a whisper.
"But now I'm just a slave in an underground arena."
Silence descended.
The weight of his words lingered between us.
I stared at him blankly, unsure what to say. But before I could respond, Rash had already pulled himself together again.
Haah.
He exhaled slowly and turned back toward me. The smile returned to his face.
But this time it didn't reach his eyes.
"I'm a little tired, Adonis," he said. "Let's continue tomorrow. Good night."
He crouched, lowering himself before lying down.
A few seconds passed before I answered.
"Yeah… good night."
I closed my eyes.
But my thoughts remained on his dream.
Just like me—
He had a reason to survive.
I wanted to find a person.
He wanted to see the green of the world.
We all had our reasons not to give up and reach another tomorrow.
No matter how small that reason may sound.
It was big enough to keep them alive until now.
***
"How can you be so positive?"
Rash, who sat beside me with his back against the wall, turned his head toward me at my question.
"Positive? What do you mean?"
He sounded genuinely confused.
I turned my head toward him.
"Ever since I met you, you've been friendly and talkative. You always smiled as if this place wasn't an arena where we're forced to kill each other… but some kind of vacation. I never understood that. How someone could stay so positive here."
"Hahaha."
In return, I received only laughter.
He laughed for several seconds before finally answering.
"Positive, huh?"
He chuckled again.
"Must be hard for someone like you to understand."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Someone like me?"
That only made his grin wider.
"Yeah. Someone like you."
He pointed directly at my face.
"You always look like you're about to die from depression. Honestly, you're lucky you met someone as awesome as me. Otherwise, you would've died ages ago."
Another chuckle followed.
"I mean, look at you. Your face just screams, 'Don't talk to me, I'm depressed.' Man, even the kids back in Labet didn't look as sad as you. And they don't even know what the color green is."
Then he noticed my clenched jaw.
"Oh wow, look at that. Clenching your jaw now? Holding back some real big tears, huh? Don't worry. You can cry. I'll lend you my shoulder like the big brother I am."
Another chuckle escaped him, which made me even angrier.
'This bastard.'
I shouldn't have asked.
I was just about to suggest another duel—to beat him up—when he spoke again.
"But yeah," Rash said, his tone suddenly calmer. "Compared to the others, I'm pretty positive."
The laughter disappeared.
He looked away as he continued, his voice turning serious.
"It's not like I'm happy. Of course, I feel like shit too. Becoming a slave. Being thrown into an arena and forced to kill other teens. No one would be positive in a place like this."
I interrupted him.
"Then why—"
But he continued, already knowing what I meant.
"It's something I learned in Labet. There were days when you couldn't drink water or eat food. Every day was scorching hot, and everything around you was just sand. And then, when you finally got a piece of bread, some bastard would beat you up and steal it."
"A shitty place. Just like here. No law. No order. Most people were brutal. Or straight-up sadists. Every day was survival."
He paused and closed his eyes for a moment.
"I felt like shit, too. I was depressed and sad."
Then he opened his eyes again.
"But then I met him."
His voice softened.
"Uncle. We weren't actually related, but he took care of me and taught me a few things. One of them was how to lie."
He chuckled quietly.
"Not the kind of lies you're thinking of. He taught me how to lie to myself."
He turned and looked directly at me.
"The world is a shitty place. Nothing is fair. There's no justice, and no heroes are coming to save you. So when things get like that… the only thing you can do is lie to yourself."
His voice was calm but firm.
"Smile even though you want to cry. There was nothing good that would come out of crying. It won't change anything. Smiling won't either. But at least you won't look weak."
A bright grin appeared on his face.
"Isn't it better to be happy in a shitty place than to be sad?"
"There's no point in thinking about the shitty things in life. That just makes you sad. So focus on the good things. When I walk into the arena and see some beast trying to eat us alive, I don't think 'This is dangerous.' No. I think 'Wow, how much would I get if I sold its fur?'"
"The crowd? You could think they're disgusting people paying to watch children die. Or you could think—wow—they all came here to cheer for me because I'm awesome."
"I look into a puddle of blood and think, 'Wow, that guy is handsome,' when I see my reflection. Or I look up at the ceiling and think the lightstones look beautiful today."
He sighed and leaned back.
"It's just a change of perspective. Yeah, maybe it's lying to yourself. But it helps a lot more than being depressed all the time."
I listened carefully to his words.
"A change of perspective…" I murmured.
Rash heard me and nodded.
"Exactly!"
"I mean, nobody likes sad people. It sounds harsh, but it's true. Would you rather be surrounded by people who cry about how unfair life is…or by someone like me who smiles and says the blood makes a beautiful pattern in the sand?"
My lips parted slightly.
But before I could answer, Rash grinned.
"Obviously, awesome guys like me."