ILLUMINE ｢YOUNG JUSTICE｣

TWO

Clara is awake before the lights are on. She doesnt know, or honestly care, about the others around her, but she would be surprised if any of them were still asleep. The lights come on automatically as the door opens, and the same woman in a lab coat walks in the room. Shes pale, with thin blonde hair slicked back into a tight bun, with small but thickly framed glasses resting on her hooked nose. Another woman, who looks to be very young follows after her. Their heels echo through the white room as each woman goes down the rows of beds, unlocking handcuffs. "Go to the dining hall, your schedule will be given shorty after." The blonde announces loudly, even though at this point, she doesnt actually have to tell any of them that. The days are the exact same unless you were the select few who could go on missions.

After the women are done, everyone makes their way to the dining hall, where the food trays are already set out on the cold metal tables. They dont bother with impressing anyone in terms of food, its mush, or incredibly wet oats probably soaked with protein powder or something, along with an apple, and a drink rumored to just be filled with the correct nutrients needed for their lifestyle. Everyone eats in silence, until a small group of men shuffle into the brightly lit hall. "Group A, languages. Group B, sparring. Group C, Ballet. Group D, Gym." One of them holding a clipboard says simply, while the others simply stare and murmur to one and other.

Everyone hurries to finish the food, before standing and filing into line. Theres no point in cleaning up their discarded trays, as its just deemed a waste of time and unnecessary. In group C, Clara can hear the older girls fussing over the younger ones. New kids who were plucked off the street, and dont know how things work or whats going on. "Her hairs too sloppy." One of them says. "Take it down and let me do it." She says to the child, who looks to be around eight. To herself, Clara thinks the youngest shes ever seen arrive here was six, which meant they truly would never know any better of the outside world. She likes to think, despite her own pockets of blank memory thanks to that machine, that she actually remembers what came before this.

She, like everyone else here, was also picked from the street. She remembers the grime, and the shitty apartment, and the smoke and loud voices, but of course everything is hazy. When she first arrived, they used the machine on her almost daily. One day, she could picture her mothers blonde hair, the next, that memory would be filled with new ballet routines or new French vocabulary. They painfully emptied her brain of anything that wouldnt be useful, and judging by the sluggishness and glassy eyes of the new kids, it seems the same was done to them.

She was also in Group C, one of the only groups where they separated the boys and girls. Everyone rushed to get into their respective lines, and make their way, quietly, to whatever room they were needed. The majority of the kids (students, she had heard one of the white coats say once. But there was no way that could honestly be true, what they were learning where was far too horrific to be considered something from a school) were girls anyway. There used to be a somewhat equal amount of boys and girls, but not too long ago a string of incidents that all seemed to involve Clara had changed her fathers mind on the topic. Now the boys that came were much younger than the rest, and judged much more harshly. Anything less than absolute obedience resulted in their disappearance.

The older (and of course, more obedient) they become, the more lenience they are given. The older girls, 16 to 19, talk amongst themselves, but only about things such as technique, or sparring, or anything related to what theyre taught here. If theyre kind enough, or invested in their group enough, they go around and help the others, especially the younger. Sometimes, the white coats recruit them to help carry things around for them, or test out whatever new drug they got their hands on.

The dance room was the only room that was actually above ground. Clara figured it was a cover, as a type of dance boarding school, for everything else that actually went on underground. It still had the same hard white lights hanging overhead, but if you arrived early enough, the curtains were drawn back and the sun streamed in, casting a golden warmth on everyone as they practiced. Outside, the only thing you could see was the dark green of evergreens, and maybe the smog of the city. Wherever they were, it was obviously far away from anyone else. At night, the blackout curtains were drawn, and the ugly white lights turned on, and, despite the old dark wood and character, it transformed into the same as any other room underground.