Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
A/N: I tried pulling a lot of inspiration from prison-themed mangas and BL novels. But the more I read, the more I feel that the media depiction of such a setting is rather romanticized. And thus...this flawed fic was born... Happy holidays, everyone!
NOTES: AU. Prison setting. Plot holes. Dark themes. Deeply allegorical piece. Akaya x Yanagi. Devil!Akaya (Akuma) x Yanagi. Hinted non-con. Explicit language. Akaya POV. Unbeta'd!
[BGM: Frederic Chopin - "Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2"]
[BGM: Gackt - "サクラ、散ル..."]
Destination Purgation
Part I
December.
When the man in dark uniform standing before him spoke, he shivered, not knowing whether it was from the weather, or the chill in the other's monotone.
"I'm Yanagi Renji. I will be orienting you to the facility and your duties as a correctional officer."
Akaya almost didn't recognize him when the other introduced himself at the gate. He thought the other merely shared his senpai's name.
But he knew, he couldn't be someone else. For he had the same succinct manner, same calm, same auburn hair, same height, same athletic built, and same deep, magnetic voice.
He was the same old Yanagi-senpai. The five years that passed supposedly, felt more like five days when he studied the other's unchanged traits.
Except, sickly white replaced the healthy tan of his skin. The serenity about him tinged with noticeable melancholy. And his closed eyelids became a shield that shrouded him. The once open-minded, approachable person now rejected all external contact and prevented anyone, everyone, from reaching out to him.
He had wanted so much to see those clean, amber eyes gaze at him and the world with gentleness like they had in the past. He expected that he'd be happy to see him, be pleasantly surprised. Maybe even give him a hug or a kiss on the cheek like he joked about giving him when he returned in the emails he sent.
But the other only regarded him with formal aloofness. The unexpected present reality disappointed him.
He stared at his turned back, beginning to wonder if bugging his old man for a correctional officer position in his senpai's work place was really a good idea after all.
But more than anything, he wanted to know just what had happened to his senpai in the years he'd been out of the country.
Following his mentor inside the gate, Akaya took the opportunity to examine the facility before him.
It was the usual, bland, brick building in which it became painfully obvious that the architect had concentrated the majority of his efforts to ensure the security of the place. The building looked like a strange cross between a school and a palace, two completely different types of architecture that should have never been mixed together at all. He scorned the architect's nonexistent creativity.
He couldn't help but question: If this place was really like the palace it appeared to be, who reigned in this setting?
...
Inside, the other led him to the office, where the other correctional officers gathered. He received a tepid welcome from his to-be coworkers.
Akaya figured, it was the best treatment a newcomer like him could get from such a desolate place.
His mentor passed him a key card.
"Elevator access." He explained. Akaya fought hard to keep from rolling his eyes at his senpai's lack of effort to make conversation.
"For your room." He handed him a bronze key.
Surprisingly, Yanagi didn't leave him alone to get lost in the maze-like hallways. Instead, being the responsible mentor he was, he showed him to his room and only turned to leave when Akaya unlocked the door to his room with a click.
"Meet at the main corridor on the first floor in an hour." Yanagi stepped inside the elevator.
He waited till the elevator door slid close before entering his room. Frustration hit him out of nowhere, and he took it out on the door. Hard.
Akaya didn't care if anyone down the hall or in the building heard him.
The person he actually gave a damn about would ignore the racket as naturally as he ignored the fact that they were far more than just strangers.
He threw his duffel bag on the neatly made bed. Akaya decided he would ask all the necessary questions later.
Right now, he had a job to do.
...
The prison (or as old geezers who thought themselves to be sophisticated liked to call it, correctional facility) consisted of seven levels of stucco walls and tile floors.
The employees' dormitory took up the second floor.
The guards' office and inmate check-in area occupied the first. Towards the back, enclosed by mental fencing and barb wire was a large courtyard with simple blacktop and basketball courts for the inmates to exercise and engage in recreational activities.
"Moderate exercise and activity aid in the reduction of aggressive and destructive behavior." When his mentor explained the use of the open area, Akaya almost felt like he attended one of those past field trips to a museum of some sort. He sounded just like a perfectly recorded encyclopedia.
They shuffled to the end of the yard. The facility was built on a hill, probably to discourage escape.
Yet, what amused him when he peered at the view beyond the trees was the cluster of office and apartment buildings that seemed so close that he imagined if an inmate managed to squeeze a hand through the knitted metal, he could touch civilization again.
He gestured at the buildings. "Why is this place so close to that?"
Yanangi didn't answer immediately as Akaya expected. He wondered if he had finally stumped the walking encyclopedia with a puzzling question.
Eventually, Yanagi replied. "It's there to remind us that we can't go back."
Akaya gaped. Did the other realize how personal his reply came out to be? And what was with the 'us' that he used?
A bell buzzed before he could voice his question.
"Come. It's time to let them out." As if he had been successfully conditioned, he automatically knew to follow the other when he pivoted around.
Following in his footsteps and watching his back, Akaya ridiculed himself for being a pussy. A loyal dog.
...
Inside, Akaya followed his senpai to let the inmates out one by one with the other guards on duty.
He didn't miss the crude comments and lewd gestures the wretched men threw in his senpai's direction.
He glared at them, yelled back even. He didn't understand how the other could continue so unfazed. How long did it take for him to be used to such vulgarity that defied his refinement?
Eventually, they ascended to the seventh level.
His heart pounded in anticipation. This is where 'he' is kept. Though, he had a hard time imagining 'him' amongst the rough, gruff, wretched men who packed this place.
The elevator dropped them off on the seventh floor. Stepping out, he immediately observed how different the level was compared to the others.
It was no surprise 'he' who had such a high standard of life wouldn't accept anything less.
The five star hotel room appearance. The king-sized bed with silk sheets. The leather reading chair. The mahogany writing desk. The white Bengal tiger rug.
Their boots didn't click like it did on the other floors when they approached the cell.
Even the floor outside the cell was covered in expensive carpeting.
Finally, they stood outside the cell. Inside, he sat on the luxurious chair reading. The prisoner on the top floor. The one who reigned here. His twin brother. Kirihara Akuma.
Seeing the other behind bars was like seeing himself in captivity. Their physical resemblance too overbearing. Their height. Their built. Their voice. The only three differences: their eye color, hair color, and temperament.
Thank God.
"Hello, little brother." Looking up from his page, the other greeted him casually.
"Shut up, Akuma. We're twins; we were born on the same day, same time. So stop calling me your little brother as if I'm actually younger than you." He rebutted automatically.
Akuma shook his head. "True age lies not in physical maturity but in mental advancement."
As if expecting his brother's sarcasm, he repaid with a smirk. "Well, in that case, should I call you gramps, instead, brother?"
"Call me whatever pleases you, little brother." The other was unfazed by his taunt; he looked as if he was yielding to pacify a child's tantrum.
Akaya seethed. He hated it when he treated him like a child, as much as he hated him for calling him his little brother.
He cursed his stupidity for always letting his brother lead him back to the same trap.
He trailed behind the two grudgingly. He spent so much energy struggling in the anger and embarrassment prison that he neglected a small detail.
His brother purposely walked between him and his senpai. Like a barrier.
...
Akaya spent the rest of the afternoon familiarizing himself with his job.
He supervised the inmates' activities. Monitored them at the cafeteria. Broke up riots and fights. And locked the misbehaved up in solitary confinement.
At the end of the work day, his mentor showed him to the employees' locker room, where they showered and changed out of their uniforms.
While sliding a T-shirt over and down his head, the corner of his eye caught the image of his mentor's naked back.
He did a double take.
And he stared.
Purple and blue bruises, big and small, ran up and down along his spine. He felt a little funny how the size of them could so easily be mistaken for kiss marks.
But that didn't creep him out as much as the other stuff he saw. The blanched blemishes, of cuts, scrapes, stabs and burns. From fires. From ties.
Flinching, he reached out instinctively to touch an exceptionally painful-looking scar before his senpai could pull on his white undershirt.
The other jolted, turned and slipped back to open up a large gap of distance between them. The older guard glowered, his stance defensive.
Akaya finally got to see the amber eyes he missed so much. They pierced his emerald eyes now. And instead of the cleanliness and purity he expected, he detected projections of fear and distrust.
Did the haunting look in the other's eyes reflect the image of his broken soul or the image of this desolate place?
He didn't get the chance to further investigate, for when he threw up his hands insisting his innocence, the other's eyes relidded.
Yanagi muttered a quick apology before pulling on his shirt in a hurry.
Watching him escape like running away from some monster urged him to drag him back and choke an answer out of him.
Just what the hell happened to you, senpai?
...
"Oh, you must be the new guy." An excited voice cut through the jabber of the crowded cafeteria, forcing him to shift his focus from the two figures in the distance that served as his only source of entertainment for the past few days to the newcomer who dropped his tray on the table and plopped down beside him.
A redhead. He had one of those baby faces that discouraged people from guessing his age, because they knew they would be off.
"I'm Marui Bunta, nice to meet ya." Before he could introduce himself, Marui continued. "From your resemblance, you must be related to Akuma. Are you his little brother?"
"I'm his twin." He stabbed at a carrot bit.
"Bunta, you bothering your new coworker?" A bald, dark man joined them.
Akaya took note of his uniform.
The other must have noticed; he quickly introduced himself.
"Hey, I'm Kuwahara. You can just call me Jackal."
When the three of them got to know each other better, he realized that their table was where all the officers ate at.
He wondered why his senpai was eating with his brother instead.
"It's much like high school cafeteria here. Everyone's got their own groups, their own cliques." Marui said through a mouthful of rice. "But of course, Yanagi is different."
"Different?" He repeated.
"Yeah, he doesn't have a clique he belongs to. He wasn't able to choose one."
"Why?" His brows furrowed.
"Because Akuma didn't let him choose." Marui shrugged. "Now, are you going to eat that brownie?"
...
He wasn't able to choose.
For some reason, as unalike as they sounded, Marui's words reminded him of his senpai's statement from earlier. That single personal statement, a piece of his mind he chose to reveal to a familiar stranger, to him.
The criminals here couldn't just choose to go back to civilization. His senpai wasn't a criminal, so why couldn't he choose then? To leave this hell. To never come back. To live life amongst the innocent and free.
After dinner, after all the convicts returned to their cells, Akaya took a stroll in the courtyard and found himself walking along the fence.
He watched the neon lights of the restless city of the night wink at him. He could almost make out the loud party music remixed to the winter winds' howls. The heels and boots tapping to the feverish rhythms. The city was a night owl whose husky voice whispered only of fun and excitement, and ignored the confusion that tortured him.
He walked on until he spotted a figure in a dark corner. When his eyes finally got used to the darkness, he made out that the other actually faced the direction of the lit city. Though Akaya doubted that he could see much of anything through his lidded eyes.
He figured that the other chose to lay low in this secluded area because he wanted to be left alone. Yet, Akaya still chose to trespass on his personal space, steal his time, and seize his attention. He knew, if he didn't ask all those annoying questions on his mind, he might not get the chance to later.
Plopping down beside the other without asking for permission, he dropped his first question.
"I thought you wanted to become a doctor?" He tried to sound as casual as possible, even lifting his head to look up at the sky he didn't give a shit about to make him seem like his focus was elsewhere. To lighten the overly dense silence between them.
His senpai didn't reply immediately. Meanwhile, he started regarding the beauty of the star-filled navy sky, the serenity of the zone, the obscurity of the darkness all working together to give off the illusion that they were more than just a wall apart from the nation's most violent criminals.
"I did want to become a doctor." The other finally interrupted his star-counting.
He waited for the other to explain himself further. But after a long pause, nothing else crept out. So he fired consecutively before he could stop himself.
"So, why didn't you? Why are you here instead? Don't you know how dangerous it is here? Don't you know you have no future here?" When his mind finally caught up five seconds later, Akaya breathed. "Wait. Don't answer those questions yet. What I need to know first is what happened to you after high school...and how you got here."
The other resumed.
"I started the pre-med program. I finished it." He delayed another moment. "And then, my parents and my sister got into a fatal car accident."
The revelation struck him speechless. In his petrified state, he couldn't pull a single word of comfort out, not even from his ass, to fill in the parasitic silence...not that the other really needed them now after so long. But, still...
His senpai went on. "It was a hit and run case. Eventually, the investigation led to the culprit being a certain governor's son, who had driven under the influence of alcohol."
The words seemed to flow out now, after he grew used to speaking.
Listening to him made Akaya remember back to the news he read in the papers the other day. Of a teenage girl who had been abused, locked up, tied up ever since age two. She would never be able to walk like a normal person.
In his senpai's case, grief must be the abuser. He saw the girl walk again when he heard his senpai talk.
Yanagi continued in his grief-scarred voice.
"It is only natural that the defendant is released as innocent even when all the evidence pointed to the opposite truth. Such is the world; situations always shift to your favor when you're wealthy and powerful."
Akaya listened on, disregarding the gnawing urge to rush him. He wanted so bad to know everything.
"I couldn't think of anything but revenge at the time." The hands that rested peacefully on his lap all along, lifted. Yanagi studied them. "These hands that I had wanted to use to heal, to save, accomplished the opposite instead. When I murdered him, I knew instinctively, at that moment, I have lost all right to be anyone's healer, savior."
Watching him now, so very close on the edge of crumbling, he wanted to reach out to take his hand and tell him it's okay. That everyone makes mistakes they later on regret.
But, in the end, Akaya said nothing, did nothing, because he didn't want to risk seeing the other crack and break.
As if he purged his body of the toxic waste that slowly killed him inside after his confession, the dark gloom of his spirit lifted visibly. Akaya saw bits of the other's former self peeking through the current dead layer like sunlight seeping through porous storm clouds after the rain.
"I confided in your brother. He claimed responsibility for the crime before I realized he did. The governor used his influences and the judge sentenced him to lifetime in prison."
He could finish the rest of the story easily.
Yanagi-senpai let guilt torture him and became a correctional officer to babysit his brother. He beat himself up, voluntarily ditching his freedom, his life, his dream.
From appearances, their family's wealth must have came in handy to ensure that his brother lived well even in confinement. But something seemed out of place. If his father was so filthy rich and powerful, why hadn't he used his influences to shorten his brother's sentence or buy him a way out altogether?
As he watched this agonizing misfortune before him, he figured, it's time he sit down to have a talk with his brother.
...
Akaya found his way back to his room. His mind filled with replaying dialogues and undigested observations like he had just binged on information. From the conversation with his senpai. From the small talk with his coworkers. From the questions he wanted to ask and no one wanted to answer.
He thought until his head hurt like the nights before exams during his college days when he tried cramming as much information into his head as he could last minute.
He fell backwards on the squeaky mattress. Beyond all the thoughts shuffling through his head, memory resurfaced.
When he compared the past to the present side by side, he couldn't believe their contrast.
...
They grew up together. Him. His brother, Yanagi-senpai.
His senpai's family wasn't as wealthy as theirs, but their fathers' friendship hadn't been affected by this difference in wealth.
Every wealthy family shared the same cliched storyline. The central conflict was always the parents' absence or nonexistence, usually due to two reasons: work and/or secret affair. That set the ground for all the other issues, problems, dilemmas to branch out from. A formula for probable future tragedy.
Since childhood, his brother, Akuma, had no friends. Almost literally. He was too smart, too precocious for his age, as if he was born with sharp eyes that saw through society and reality, in their black and white and shades of gray. At that time, the one who kept up enough with him mentally to understand him was Yanagi.
He, on the other hand, acquired tons of friends. He got along with everyone and anyone. Yet, he knew, probably because he rubbed off of his brother, that having friends was a lot like playing House. Roles always changed. Departures, separations, for certain. He had a lot of friends. But too few for him to call confidants. At that time, it must have been because of his senpai's unwavering presence, his continue care, something that even his parents couldn't do that made him one of the few people he felt close to. Maybe even the closest. Regardless of their personality differences.
Naturally, the two of them got close in high school since they joined the same tennis club. Unfortunately, his brother didn't have time for after school activities since he had to help out at their father's company.
Now that he looked back, high school was definitely the best three years of his life. Things were simple back then. Going to school. Practicing tennis. Competing with rival schools. Winning. Studying for exams. Hanging out with friends. Doing everything alongside his senpai.
Then, his senpai graduated and he made his confession. The sakura spring shower and his senpai's gentle smile that March day branded his memory forever. Till this day, in every dream, he reminisced.
After high school, Akaya applied for an overseas college. And Yanagi agreed to wait for him while completing the premed program.
The two of them kept in touch after he left. They kept in touch for years.
Until, one day, everything stopped. The emails. The personalized greeting cards. The phone calls.
If at that time, he knew of the mess that would happen a few years later, he would have never left him alone, left him for the monstrous unknown.
...
He waited for the time. He waited for the opportunity.
Meanwhile, Akaya grew familiar to his job duties, the daily routines. He made his rounds halfheartedly. He watched the criminals disinterested. He spaced out when shooting the shit with Marui and Jackal and other officers he acquainted with.
Actually, he only scrutinized his brother...and the senpai who followed the other as naturally as his shadow. The two were like Siamese twins. As if his senpai left Akuma by himself too long, the damn guilt would pounce and hunt his ass down.
His senpai's inner turmoil really didn't help the situation. He needed to talk to his brother. Alone. His senpai following his brother around like a mother hen made it hard for him to find an opening.
Akaya recalled his senpai's nightly visit to his little dark sanctuary overlooking the slumberless city. He figured, night was probably his best bet. After dinner that night, he rode the elevator up the facility tower to the last floor, where his brother resided.
As he watched the digital red number count up to the top floor, he thought how it felt so much like riding the elevator at his father's office building. His father and brother shared the same tendency to put themselves at the top of things, superior to other people. Unable to find much similarity between his old man and himself, he questioned time after time whether he truly was his father's son, regardless of the fact he was Akuma's twin.
The beep of the elevator signaled his arrival. The double doors opened, he stepped out.
Strangely, the secretary he half-expected to be there to greet him wasn't there to receive him. There was one occasion she was absent.
His feet took him forward almost automatically.
His shoes made no sound on the carpet.
His shoes made no sound on the carpet.
He approached his brother's cell.
He approached his old man's office, door standing ajar.
He heard moaning, panting.
He heard moaning, panting.
His brother's natural silver white hair was easy to spot in its contrast to the raven night. The sweat glistening on his muscular back outlined his toned figure. He supported the weight of two long, strong legs at the crooks of his arms. His hips thrust forward and retracted. The sound of skin slapped against skin.
His father's whitening hair gleamed under the harsh light of his office light. The disheveled white dress shirt seemed to have deflected some light to his eyes as he watched the scene from the door. He supported the weight of two long, slender legs at the crooks of his arms. His hips, concealed under the length of his white dress shirt, moved forward and back at a frantic pace. The sound of clothes shuffling and skin slapping skin.
As he stood there, frozen on the spot, Akaya wondered if he existed in the present or if he had somehow gotten lost during the elevator ride and traveled back in time.
...
Akaya recalled the time in his childhood when the kindergarten teacher asked the class about their greatest fears.
All the girls in his class cried, "Ghosts!"
All the boys in his class shouted, "Monsters!"
Puzzled why the others were afraid of fictional things, only he answered, "My brother!"
His brother smiled a lot and was friendly to everyone. Everyone liked him. Akaya was scared shitless of him.
To him, his brother was like that kind stranger at the park who called him cute and gave him candy. But of course, trusting him and taking his candy ended in him almost getting hurt and kidnapped.
Everyone laughed.
He got angry then. He didn't understand why everyone thought his answer to be so funny.
Years and years later, today, his body, his instincts still remembered that fear and reacted.
Finally, he halted at an empty hallway. His breath caught up. His mind caught up.
And he remembered, years later, today, he finally had enough power to rebel against his brother.
More than that. He had a reason to. A strong one.
"Yanagi-senpai..." The other's name slipped through his lips and traveled through the empty hallway like the same ghost that wandered his mind for years.
...
Eventually, after many trials (many of which included walking in on his brother fucking his senpai), he finally met up with his brother.
The other sat casually on his reading chair behind the bars, watching him approach. The other must have felt his need to see him. Just as he felt his brother evaded him for so long out of mischief.
Someone said that telepathy existed on some level between twins. And he never doubted that claim.
The first thing that darted from his mouth was, "How could you hurt him like that, you bastard?!"
Akaya grabbed the iron bars, shaking them as if to vent his anger.
Akuma looked at him in amusement.
"Before you get all worked up over nothing, tell me, little brother, are you angry because he is hurt, or are you angry because he is no longer perfect?"
"Don't avoid my question."
Indifferent, the other only continued, careless of whether he'd hear him through the deafening anger pounding at his eardrums.
"He thought he was prepared to face the worst of the world when he arrived. He never thought he would just become a sheep in a lion's den."
His brother had the tendency of speaking in innuendos and ambiguities. The years he spent living with him under a single roof taught him to crack a lot of mysteries. His brother's seemingly friendly facade. The point behind his indirectness.
Realization hit him with horrifying images. Of his senpai performing his duties as a prison guard alone. Of him being cornered and surrounded. Of men, like animals and beasts, tearing him apart, and consuming him. Of their repeated violence. Of his senpai, finally broken.
His emerald eyes met his brother's ruby ones. The exchange of nonverbal communication completed through eye contact.
In the end, Akaya knew, it was the other who accepted his senpai under his wing, put him back together, piece by piece. In his own way. In his own pattern.
Maybe the other chose not to step in to save him initially because he wanted him broken.
"You monster." He spat.
"I won't deny that." Akuma shrugged. "Nothing pure lasts in a rotten place like this anyway. The more tainted he becomes, the closer he is to me."
The other's crimson eyes mocked him.
"For the outside world admires and worships only the pure and beautiful."
"Even so, he doesn't belong here!"
His twin snorted, chuckled, then opened his mouth to laugh loudly as if he had finally gotten his joke.
"No, little brother, I'm afraid you can't decide that for him. If judging from the truth that so little people know about, under the law, imprisonment is only of the lightest form of punishment for a murderer like him. He was, after all, the one who chose to take the bait of revenge."
"But you've chosen to take the blame for him! So why not just let him get on with his life?"
"It seems naivete doesn't fade with age for you, little brother." Akuma smiled innocuously. "If I freed him, released him to the world outside, he would no longer belong to me."
"He doesn't love you. He's only with you out of pity and guilt."
"Love. Pity. Guilt. What is the difference? They're all emotional bonds, burdens, attachments. As long as I have him, what do I care?" Akuma uttered. "You should know. It also does not really matter where he exists. Here or the outside world. Because he does not have the ability to decide his fate. Not many people have that choice, anyway. Because they're all disillusioned; they've all been led to believe in certain lies. Society is as much of a cage as this prison."
The sarcasm in the other's voice melted away to aloofness. And Akaya felt as if beyond all the other's taunts and lies, he had finally spoken his mind.
"But it is different for me, for I have chosen to be here. This place that you and so many others have viewed as a living hell—this is where I belong."
Akaya shook his head.
"You're mad." He'd admit, his brother was an eloquent person. But that didn't mean he wanted to be bought into his bullshit.
Akuma yawned. "The pointlessness of this conversation is boring me. I'm going to bed. Come back and try again when you have more valid arguments."
...
Frustrated at how the argument with his brother led nowhere, Akaya headed to the courtyard. He needed to let off some steam.
He leaned against the cool metal fencing and attempted to peer at the party that went on in the nearby city. The party no one here was invited to.
He didn't know about the convicts, but he and his senpai were as attracted to the scene as moths to a flame. He insisted it wasn't a bad thing. At least he knew, they still craved for light, for civilization.
The scariest thing wasn't living in the dark. It was becoming a creature that became used to such a place.
In the short amount of time he's been here, he's witnessed countless assault, robbery, slander, rape... It wasn't a surprise to see the convicts commit crimes.
The correctional officers beat the convicts for sport and fun. They stole. They insulted. They violated.
He didn't want to become a criminal. He needed to get out of this place. With his senpai.
Turning, he found his senpai at the same spot a few feet away from him, in the dark.
He wanted to ask him why he always sought comfort from the darkness. Metaphorically and literally.
When his senpai glanced up at him, he knew he had blurted out his question.
His senpai replied, "The closer you get to the light, the larger and more visible your darkness becomes. The darkness serves as a concealer to your own flaws."
With that, Yanagi stood up to leave. When he brushed past him, Akaya reached out to grab his wrist. In doing so, he broke through the pretentious air that hovered between them in the past two weeks.
His gaze displayed his determination.
"Let's escape this place and get back together senpai. I still want to be with you."
Their eyes met for the second time when Yanagi opened his eyes slowly. The amber oasis extinguished his frustrations, purified his soul, and finally took him back to the most tender part of his memory, where he stood under the sakura spring shower again with his senpai.
His senpai smiled, the last bit of happiness graced upon his lips.
"I'm sorry, Akaya."
He shook off his hand and walked on. His smile accepted his sincerity. Yet, his erect back stated his dignity rejected him.
His pride didn't allow him to look back.