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The flushed faces of many of their classmates combined with the sound of some colliding roughly onto the ground. Their breathing is desperate and heavy, they're visibly red and hot to the touch. An artificial virus, the man on the restricted line had said. --Only he had the cure, and he would destroy it without second mind if they did anything other than his demands. They wouldn't be able to bring their classmates to the hospital. To cooperate meant the real risk of him only putting two more of their classmates in danger, and the chance that they were being lied to about the tradeoff.
"Someone get towels and basins! We'll try to keep them cool as best as we can." The normally quiet Takebayashi, having had medical background from his family's work was taking charge of the situation as best as he could.
Karasuma's tension in his voice was palpable as he demanded again if there were really no medical professionals at ready to take care of them. He would have further criticized the fact a place like this was so unprepared for sudden emergency, but he balled his hands into fists helplessly as he could hear the students behind him. Irina and Korosensei worldlessly looked onto the situation, eyes widened and at a loss for words.
Nobody foresaw this. They took a trip to Okinawa that was hard-won, and set up their assassination under the guise of having fun with their teacher. They failed--succeeding in making him immobile and forcing him to pull his trump card, but then things went from bad to worse.
Isolated so far from any other island, the blanket of the night suddenly felt extremely oppressive. These were all children, clutching at their sides, breathing rapidly, clinging just barely onto their lives. Struggling, gasping. Some feeling faint, others in too much pain to even think of getting rest. And they were so far away from home.
Friends held the backs of their classmates, and some of the sick looked at each other. To see them in that state was already agonizing, those who were unaffected couldn't begin to imagine how much worse it was for the afflicted.
Despite their plight, some words of comfort were exchanged, doing their best to convince themselves everything would turn out alright.
Okuda gently rubbed Kanzaki's back as the latter held her mouth, trying not to vomit.
Terasaka had knelt down to Muramatsu and Hazama. "Hey, you guys, don't you dare die on me." The two of them laughed, sincere however weakly, and with nods.
Everyone was either checking around anyone not yet attended, or spending precious minutes with who they were closest to.
But in the initial panic of the situation, and the thereafter of taking care of their classmates, and the small crowd calm enough to compose themselves to think of a plan with their teachers, nobody noticed one person had simply turned and disappeared.
One of their class representatives, Isogai Yuuma.
--
The ceiling light was kinda being obnoxious. Was it supposed to feel that hot? No, that was his own body that felt like it was burning, but...
Maehara frowned.
"Hey... Okano." He opened his eyes a bit more as his classmate dabbed a towel to wipe his forehead. She blinked wordlessly, as if to already reply 'what is it?'
He sounds pensive. "Do you know where Isogai went?"
"Isogai?" She turned her head, she could've sworn he would have been around, but true enough he was nowhere to be seen. "That's funny... I don't think he was one of you guys who got sick."
But, come to think of it, it was extremely odd he wasn't there at Maehara's side. At the very least, Isogai would have been around to reassure everyone that things would work out fine, helping someone out or be talking with the teachers right now. He never would have left everyone alone. That just wasn't something anyone could imagine him doing. Had nobody seen him?
They're both quiet, for a second. Before Maehara breaks it again,
"This is bad..."
Of course, only his best friend would know otherwise. He had a knowing look and a wry smile on his face,
"This is probably giving him awful flashbacks."
--
It was cold outside. Isogai's nails from the left hand dug into his right cheek. With his other arm, he was holding his stomach. He needed silence, for the moment. The garbled sounds of panicked cries back in the hallway had gotten to him, and he instinctively turned heel and walked swiftly away. Reflecting on the selfishness of this given his classmates' reliance on him, he felt sickened by himself. But he couldn't help it. His mind was swelling with fear, and dread. He was sure his hands were shaking.
Stop it, stop it.
He begged mentally, to no avail.
Shutting his eyes in a desperate measure, he could feel the pit inside his chest growing.
He couldn't go to another one. Not again, not so soon.
It was his own voice, not cruel, not kind, just curious: that beckoned him.
Do you remember that day at the cemetery?
That day he thought he set far behind him, the memories were still vivid. What was in truth a few years ago felt like only yesterday.
He opened his eyes ever slightly, biting his lower lip, a display of holding back pain that he was normally so good at hiding. Not this time, he couldn't.
His voice already cracked into a dry sob.
--
It was a car accident that had taken their father away.
There was nothing to it, just, this bright adoring father who smiled through all the bad times, and reassured them they would be okay as long as they were together; one day he was just gone.
He regretted passing on dad's offer to take a walk around the neighborhood that morning.
Pronounced dead on arrival into the hospital, no one had a chance to say goodbye.
The doctors and nurses gave sympathetic looks, and words muted by his own grief. Isogai remembered his mother covering his little sister's eyes. Littler brother still too young to understand the atmosphere around him, he slept on, oblivious in his mother's arms. A gray heaviness, surrounded by fluorescent light. People who expressed sympathies, but even then wouldn't have understood the gravity of the loss.
He turned back to see the sheet being laid above what was left of his parent.
Things were so different before then. They never had much, but with a family warm and complete, the Isogais were happy.
It was a rough start, picking up the pieces. Isogai sometimes saw mother burst into tears when least expected, she had to work to support their family of four by herself now. It wasn't just tiredness, he knew the scar his sudden departure left must have run deepest on her the most. Isogai decided he would have to do his best to help wherever he could, and took on a part-time job, and to tend to his siblings as best as he can, and still excel in academics, club, and finish his homework. By smiling brightly that things were going to be just fine, he could gently support Mother on her feet again, from the side. And he could be a reflection of him.
So long as they kept on living, he could take care of those dear to him, and he knew it would be fine.
It's what Dad would have wanted.
But looking at the picture frame at home still hurt. His younger siblings Minori and Shun greeted him more easily.
Yet the eldest, Yuuma, felt that his own smiles towards his father's image were always strained.
He still missed him now, after all.
--
It reminded Maehara of two things, yet he decided to talk about the second to mind, and what wouldn't make the atmosphere drearier still considering his fellow patients.
"You know, one time when I was a kid, I got my first fever while playing, and I really thought I was dying back then too."
Okano twisted the towel, and raised a brow, figuring where this was going. Small talk seemed to relax Maehara, so even if she otherwise thought he should save his breath, she just let him go on.
"Isogai was there too?"
"Yeah, of course!"
And she rolled her eyes, with a small unseen smile. He sounded so happy talking about his best friend, even now. How much they were a part of each other's lives was underestimated, even by Class E who always saw them together. It's hard not to be even a little bit jealous, even people this close usually had circumstances pull them away from each other later. Not so in their case. Maehara continued,
"Anyway... I said if I died, he could have all my toys and t-shirts and stuff."
He laughed sheepishly.
"And Yuuma just started crying for me not to die and I felt bad and I had to promise I wouldn't. --Oh, then he got sick, and then I was the one keeping him company. I remember trying sock puppets."
His caretaker rested her chin on her hand, amused. Maybe this casual talk was getting to her too; and she noted Maehara's little slip-up into referring to him by first-name for the story. Perhaps it aligned with how he remembered it? So they were on first-name basis too, on occasion...
"Sounds like you two have been through a lot."
Maehara still looks awful from his illness, but the nostalgia seems to make him beam regardless.
"Haven't we ever... even before this nuts school-year, god, I've known him like half my life. Pretty much like he's always been a part of it."
Okano stays quiet, and so does Maehara. He eventually chuckles though, through a cough.
"You know, he likes taking care of everyone so much, seeing everyone like this, maybe he couldn't handle looking at it."
Maehara didn't mention it outright, but... Okano felt that wasn't the whole of what he wanted to say. She hesitates, but decides to be honest.
"He takes care of all of us but... You think he's afraid of losing you?"
Maehara's expression tightens.
He opens his mouth, and makes a request to Okano with a low breath.
"... Could you go find him, Okano? He won't snap out of it by himself."
--
It was cloudy then.
Even memories that aren't particularly happy can end up vivid, as much as people wished this wasn't the case. There are things you want to forget. There are places you don't want to be, or for your memory to return you to. Without the presence of anyone closeby, Maehara too shut his eyes and returned to that scene from only a few years ago.
In Japan, wakes were usually held as soon as possible.
It wasn't his own parent, but Isogai's father was like a dear relative, too. Their families were close, so he had regularly seen him whenever he came over to his house. Isogai's father was a jovial, jolly man, enthusiastically optimistic that things will work out, and he was always able to make do during hardship. Half-deceptive in his cheer, he always only wanted the best for his family, and knew the weight of their economic troubles. He probably would have had a lot of regrets if he was only allowed parting words to his family.
Maehara didn't know what to say then either.
He didn't hear the words of the overlooking monk, and looked past all the other figures in black to see his best friend gazing blankly forward up at the front.
The day was slow, and long.
After the cremation was to begin, the assembly dispersed, to return when it had finished. Isogai had remained where he was, still staring at everything, and nothing.
Maehara walked towards him, slowly enough, and he knew he recognized the sound of his footsteps, so it was a quiet assurance he was there. Isogai didn't stir.
He stood beside him, and said no words.
Eventually, he raises his hand to the shoulder opposite his side and pulled him into a hug.
It was then Isogai's knees slowly buckled, and he was wailing. And Maehara stayed with him.
--
"Isogai?"
". . ."
There was the sound of waves crashing into the shore. The figure didn't move, but with no other occupants on the island, and his definitive silhouette, Okano was sure that was Isogai at the edge of one of the platforms.
"Maehara wanted to see you." She pressed her lips together. She had said it so straightforwardly, and Isogai was normally so approachable--but it felt like he truly was off at the moment.
The sudden addressing makes him turn his head slightly, only enough to see from the side where she stood.
"Okay."
He says, in... an uncharacteristically emotionless manner, once again staring into the vast waters. It unnerves Okano. For all intents and purposes, it didn't look like he actually intended to move. And this didn't feel like Isogai.
Perhaps it was because nobody ever saw him like this. It's why he walked away to begin with, wasn't it?
But even so, this was a time when Class E needed to stick together. She didn't know what he was thinking, but this was not a time to be lost and by himself.
"He's sweating a lot and his forehead's really hot. He's tired but he can still talk a lot, what a blabbermouth huh..." She tries to lighten the mood, but it proves fruitless. "If it's about you, he has a lot of stories."
Isogai doesn't respond.
Okano balled her hands into fists. She knew she couldn't take it personally, but the coldness still made her take herself aback. She had to be careful, not to drive him further away. She thought, quickly, what words it was that would most get him to turn.
"... At least listen to what he wants."
She took a breath,
"He needs you."
They had a quiet corner, and Okano explained to Takebayashi the staff could move Maehara closer to the others after they had spoken, and they probably wouldn't take too long. They'd be able to talk privately enough, even if the others who looked would still be able to see them. Maehara raises an arm in greeting as he sees him approach close enough, and Isogai knelt by him.
"Hey, Isogai."
"... Hey..." He smiles in return, as a courtesy more than anything. To look at him like this still hurts him. By now, the time limit was already delivered. To come to a decision in under an hour, Isogai only got reminded of his helplessness. Maehara can tell this from a glance, and he attempts to snip this sad aura in the bud and start off the conversation on the right foot.
"Isogai, you know this time around, old offer stands... you can still have all my stuff."
Though he smiles at the memory, his best friend remained grim in tone, eyes narrowing in a bizarre mixture of worry and amusement.
Might've been the wrong foot.
"Maehara... that's a terrible joke. Were you seriously thinking of when we were kids at a time like this?"
He laughed to himself, he was probably correct, as always. But what he needed now was to be pulled out of the thoughts of the worst case scenario. Isogai was normally very in-control, but Maehara knew better than anyone that it would make his moments of being lost make him feel all the more more helpless. While he sat above him, looking down with that sad expression, he knew it was for him--and yet. Yet it felt like he was the one who was in need of reassurance.
Looking at his quivering lips, and his unconscious avoidance of direct eye contact; Maehara felt like it's been a while since he'd seen him this vulnerable. And who could blame him? There was no point in prolonging the conversation if he couldn't first pull him out of this state, and he says everything following with a firm voice as best as he could manage, and seriousness.
"Yuuma."
The sudden shift to first-name basis startled Isogai, they hadn't done that in public in a long time. He adjusted, accordingly, and quietly inquired, looking at him...
"Yes, Hiroto?"
Maehara raised his hand to place it onto Isogai's.
"I won't die, okay?"
". . ."
"Don't you remember that part, too? I promised, back then. That I wouldn't leave you."
He sounded frustrated, following up, "And even if I didn't back then, I wouldn't. You don't talk to anyone else about your problems. You even try to hide them from me, you idiot. Running away like that, what do you think best friends are for?!"
Anger born of worry. Stunned, Isogai opened his mouth, but no words came out. So he had thought of the same place, back in time... Of course he did. He felt his mind could practically be read, but he still can't be entirely honest and bare everything. He must have hurt him when he left earlier without a word, huh. He averts his eyes again, out of guilt. Maehara's annoyed by this, and makes it audible.
"Do you trust me?"
He could feel his fingers slowly moved, being hesitantly intertwined with those that weren't his--from the hand below that he had held first. For all the work he did, Maehara was a bit surprised how soft Isogai's hands stayed. And how warm the gesture made him feel. This was a solemn time, but he always wanted them to be at ease with each other, like right now.
"I won't look at you, if it'll make you say more. I want to listen. So tell me, Yuuma."
"Even..." He hesitates, but gulps and continues. There was no one else he could spill his true thoughts too, so he might as well force them out. "Even if... everyone's gotten so much stronger through our training, we've never had to deal with someone who directly targeted us before. The thought 'can we really escape from this', and 'will we all get out of here' just keep running through my mind. If I can even lead like I usually do... my mistakes would mean so much more now. Your lives are on the line, Hiroto."
Maehara stays quiet, increasing the pressure on his grip to the other's hand as a comforting gesture.
"I'd blame myself... if I lost you too."
"If... if." His best friend shook his head. "Hypotheticals, what kind of thing to stop you is that? Listen here, Yuuma. You've never given up before, and I don't know anyone else alive who could have handled all these things like you have. You lost your dad a few months after getting into this dream school with its hellish exams, you took on jobs, got good grades, you've stayed a good son and a caring big brother, always smiling like everything's fine... and you still lead Class E. You've always been strong."
Returning to face his expression, he could see that Isogai's eyes had begun to water.
"All of those though... it's only thanks that to that you were always there for me for when I was weak." It wasn't false humility, Isogai felt. He never would have been brave enough for half the things, or always picked himself up, if there was no one whose cheer and smiles and assurance was absent from his life. He starts choking on his words, and you couldn't tell if he was more grateful or upset.
"Hiroto, I--I... I can't do anything if you're not there."
Maehara could've sworn he felt his heart pop up into his throat just now.
"G-geez, don't cry now! We're not eight anymore!" Maehara scolded verbally, but he was smiling both outwardly, and in his heart. He really was fond of this classmate of his--and closest friend for as long as he could remember. How much they mattered to each other wasn't a question, it was a fact. And they both valued being each other's confidants. Isogai laughed with a small, awkward apology for the tears, he really hadn't expected them to come out either. Maehara looked thoughtful.
"Get over here."
An odd command, considering they were already right beside each other, but... Maehara gestured with his free hand towards Isogai's head, and confused but obeying, his friend knelt lower.
Pulling down from the back of his hair, there was a gentle bump.
Foreheads pressed together, it finally felt like the night was actually peaceful; and they both closed their eyes. Their heartbeats and breathing slowed to a calm rhythm, synchronized with one another's.
In truth, they were still far away from each other. Indeed, the threat of death loomed still, and it couldn't be said with absolute certainty that things would turn out fine. But this was a symbol of their unshakable bond. Even if they would be separated in but a few moments, they would always be together as a not insignificant part of the other's self. Isogai was still afraid, but he felt that he realized the truth now, and what message Maehara had ultimately wanted to say, and Isogai wanted believe in. To trust him; Hiroto wouldn't die that easily.
Maehara feels one of Isogai's tears fall onto his cheek, and he chuckles softly again, hearing it get worse. Really, why was it when someone tries to comfort that they cry even more?
"Sorry... any other time I'd be all about letting you cry it out. It happens rarely as is--And weakness is normal. But right now, the others need you more than I do. Did you get all the empowerment you needed, ikemen?"
There's a quiet nod he feels, then they parted their contact, Isogai smiling still. He wipes the tears, but doesn't take his eyes away from meeting Maehara's.
"I'll be back for you."
"And I'll be waiting." Maehara grins.
As much as he'd like to send him off awake however... he feels his tiredness catching up to him. His eyes slowly flicker open and closed. Isogai's mouth moves. He feels it as Isogai's hand slowly slips away from his own. It felt a bit sadder than expected, Maehara noted, but they would see each other again. It was a promise, after all.
One thing he knew, he had shut his eyes with Isogai still beside him. And when he opened them again, he could see Isogai's silhouette stepping farther away to their classmates outside. And walking strong once again, no doubt preparing to take on his leadership mantle.
He really was amazing, wasn't he? That Yuuma.
That was the extent of how far Maehara could stretch his consciousness, with his thoughts of pride. He closes his eyes, but he's still fighting.
--
"You sure you'll be okay? He let slip some stuff, and you still seem like you want to stay." Okano was leaning against a wall, and Isogai had passed by her without really noticing until she addressed him just now. His eyes were still a bit pinkish, but with his back against her, he was able to hide this from Okano.
Isogai looked at his hand, and rest it on his chest, turning slightly. "He believes in me. So I have to... send a proper reply back, by leading this team."
Okano nodded with a smile. That sounded more like the Isogai everyone knew. He was never really close to anyone other than Maehara--he was more of a friend-of-all, but the class as a whole really admired him. And truly, it could only do good for morale that he was back to his old self.
"... It's nice, what you two have." She was looking at the floor. "The both of you probably don't have to think hard at all about who's incredibly important to you."
He lowered his head as well, but didn't deny it. It actually made him a bit happy to hear someone else commend their bond. He felt a small smile come up his cheeks, and his response is a simple one.
"Yeah."
The sound of the palm leaves rustled in the breeze, and Isogai turned to face Okano, who had remained where she stood since she waited from the start.
"We should get going to join everyone." Isogai stated, and she nodded in response. Clicking a heel, she jogged to his pace.
Walking forward, there's a mutter, "I wonder... if he heard it."
Okano walked only a bit behind him, "What was that?"
"N-nothing, nothing. Just that he hang in there." The class representative waved his hand dismissively. It wasn't anything that she had to know, the truth of what was a small, yet heartfelt whisper.
"... You mean more to me than anyone."
See, Isogai's normally good hiding skills with his personal weaknesses had a chip in their defenses this time around; still emotional from his conversation. But Okano was fortunately polite enough, to leave him be. She watched his back, and felt it hard to believe he was the same young man who she had approached so apprehensive and afraid for the future from not too many moments ago.
This was strength. Strength not of one, but of two. And Okano wondered, if it was what she thought it was, and they themselves haven't yet realized. She scoffed, amused and more than a little envious.
Talk about slow, though.
--
Isogai stood with the small assembly of his friends, who were also fighters armed with nothing more and nothing less than their grit, and the training they had endured these past months together. Again, he would be counted on to unite the front. The way they looked at him as he gathered their attention, he knew the importance of his role.
Nobody knew, here. His past encounter with loss, and how much he didn't want to go through that again. And nobody would have to.
Because it wouldn't happen this time.
Because he would be strong. Because they wouldn't lose.
Because he would be fighting too.
And he was someone beloved to return to.
Atop the cliffside that they scaled with ease, Isogai took a breath and looked down. The smell of the ocean's air, and the wind sweeping his bangs aside. He could feel the presence of his resolute classmates beside him, and their teachers who would guide them all throughout the way; onto tackling this gargantuan assignment that they could not lose. The night sky that had seemed to reflect the darkness of situation had changed.
Yes--it was all to do with mentality. Now the stars that shone above were an indicator of hope. This wouldn't be their last night, they still had a future ahead of them. There was no turning back, and they would face this problem with daring and head-on as assassins. He addressed his classmates with a shine in his eye, and a commanding voice.
"Everyone, let's go!"
That Day
"Don't leave, Hiroto. ... Please..."
"... I won't leave. I won't ever."
"I'll be with you."