Seitarou had always loved the stars.

As a child, he'd often wondered how far away they were, and if he could ever visit them. If he stretched his arms up high enough, could he pluck them from the sky? Were they truly diamonds pinned to the heavens? Were they the sparkling presence of spirits, the dust of faeries, the tears of God? If he had wings, could he rearrange the constellations to tell new stories?

Seitarou craned his neck further back as he stared up at the glorious night sky, the splendor of the Milky Way Galaxy sprawled before him. He rubbed his sore neck and finally dropped his gaze down to the ocean and its sparkling reflection of the sky. The lights swirled and blended on the tips of the waves, and Seitarou's gaze fell further down, to where those sparkling waves crashed against the sharp rocks lining the island's shore.

Falling feels a lot like flying, doesn't it?

Seitarou had always wanted to fly.

It was Hajime's turn to watch the security cameras tonight, and he was starting to truly resent the task. The LCD displays burned his eyes, his retinas on fire as he tried to simultaneously catch up on paperwork.

Seitarou's replacement was doing his best, but he seemed overwhelmed by the strangeness of building thirteen. The inmates of cell thirteen heckled him to no end, breaking out of their cell during the day more frequently than before, though their night attempts had remained consistently infrequent.

Even so, Hajime wasn't taking any chances.

But damn it, he didn't become a prison guard so he could do paperwork! It was part of the job, though, and if it aided the administration of justice, then he would do it.

He flicked his eyes up to the monitors in time to see something—someone—flitting across one of the screens.

Number Fifteen.

Damn it, out of his cell again, but at least that gave him a reason to leave this room and move around.

"Yamato, Number Fifteen has escaped from his cell!" Hajime said into his walkie talkie. "I need you to return to the main office and watch the security cameras while—No, I'll handle it myself, Deputy Supervisor!"

Hajime stood, restless and eager to get out from behind a desk.

Finally, he'd get to see some action tonight.

"Don't jump!"

Seitarou barely had a moment to stiffen at the sound before he was being jerked backwards and tackled to the ground.

"Get off of me!" Seitarou could feel his chest constricting with fear as he began to writhe and struggle against the weight of the body on his back. He swallowed back the rising sense of panic, or at least he tried to.

"No!"

Seitarou now recognized the voice as belonging to Jyugo, Number Fifteen. That should have eased his fear, but it didn't.

"Get off!" Seitarou jerked one arm back to jab one sharp elbow into Jyugo's side. The inmate's grunt confirmed that he hit his target, so he rolled over until he was the one pinning Jyugo to the ground, applying his weight to the other's chest as he tried to regain control of his own panicked breathing. Jyugo's eyes were fixed on him, though, in a way that unnerved the already anxious prison guard.

"What were you doing?" Number Fifteen asked in a low voice as Seitarou pressed a hand to his own chest, still trying to catch his breath.

"Hajime or Yamato should be here any minute to take you back to your cell."

"You were going to jump, weren't you?"

Perhap it was the apathetic tone that irked him, but Seitarou glared at Jyugo with a sudden burst of anger. "I don't know why you keep repeating that, but stop. It's not your business either way."

"You had your foot on the bottom of the railing, though." He sounded so calm, so neutral, it only made Seitarou angrier.

"Shut up!"

Damn it, why can't I breathe right?

Come on, I can do this.

Deep breaths, Seitarou... One at a time... In... Out... In... Out...

Jyugo's silence gave Seitarou the moments of peace he'd needed to regain some kind of control.

"If I let you up, will you let me return you to your cell quietly?"

"Nope." His mismatched eyes glittered with mischief. "Where's the fun in that?"

"Me getting to go back home," Seitarous sighed.

"You should have thought about that before you came back." Jyugo's short smile disappeared. "Seriously, though, where have you been? Nico's really missed you, but Hajime won't tell us anything."

Needing a reason to avoid answering, Seitarou shifted his hold on Jyugo and flipped him onto his stomach, holding his arms folded against his back the way he was taught to do in his initial training. He now had him solidly pinned, which gave him time to think, even as Jyugo craned his neck so he could look over his shoulder at the blue-haired guard.

So he didn't tell them why I'm gone... I'm kind of relieved, but at the same time, I don't want to explain it to them when I return either.

I'm going to need to tell them something, sooner or later.

I can't just ignore them, especially not Nico...

"I'll be back in a couple weeks," was all he said. Judging by the way Jyugo was looking at him, he may have taken too long to answer.

Crap. I need to stop doing that.

Jyugo looked thoughtful, like he was about to say more, but that was when Hajime interrupted them.

"Lieutenant, what are you doing here? Number Fifteen, what are you doing out of your cell?" Hajime seemed angry with both of them.

"I went for a midnight stroll," was the inmate's blase answer. "You know it's impossible to sleep with those three in the room, and I got bored."

"Tough." Hajime had approached the pair of them and held out a hand to Seitarou, who accepted it and let his supervisor pull him to his feet. "I'll take it from here—Stay down, Fifteen!"

Jyugo had tried to stand as the guards were occupied, but Hajime stepped on his back to keep him pinned.

"Wait for me in my office, lieutenant." Hajime's fierce eyes sent a shiver through the young man, who nodded and looked away in shame.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be on leave." Hajime looked imposing as he stood behind his desk, Seitarou feeling like a school-kid at the principle's office.

"I came for the view." Seitarou held Hajime's gaze, trying not to let the tremor in his hands show. He wasn't lying, he'd done nothing wrong, he had no reason to be afraid. "That's why I was on the roof."

The less I say, the less I give away.

"You're on leave, lieutenant, which means that you're not supposed to be here." Hajime crossed his arms, then asked coolly, "When do you plan to return?"

"In ten days." Seitarou sighed a little with relief that Hajime seemed to have calmed down, even if he was looking at him strangely. Perhaps it was simply that Hajime wasn't used to seeing him in casual clothes: bare-headed, sneakers, skinny jeans, a pale yellow long-sleeve t-shirt. The silence in the office was stifling, so he gave a quick bow as he apologized, "I'm sorry, Supervisor. I'll see you when I return." He turned and stepped towards the door, making it halfway there before he was stopped.

"Lieutenant."

Oh crap.

Seitarou froze, took a small breath, then turned around.

Please make this quick, he prayed.

Being here like this—after getting caught on the roof by an inmate—was making him too anxious, the fear building in his chest where it tried to choke his lungs.

"Is there something I should know? Anything you need to tell me?"

Seitarou's throat closed over, and he swallowed hard to counter the feeling.

"No, sir."

He doesn't look convinced. Did Number Fifteen say something to him?

Now Seitarou was wondering how long Jyugo had been standing behind him, watching him.

He wasn't wrong, but does Hajime believe him?

What's he going to tell his cellmates?

Will Nico believe him?

Will Nico hate me for it?

I worked so hard to earn his trust, it'd be terrible if I lost it now, over something like this.

I was making so much progress with him, too.

I can't lose that now.

I can't breathe right.

I can't—

"Alright." Hajime gave a slight nod. "Then I'll see you in two weeks."

Seitarou nodded and turned tail, leaving as quickly as he could.

Breathe, Seitarou...

In, two, three.

Out, two, three.

In, two, three.

Out, two, three.

He timed his breathing with his brisk steps as he followed a familiar route out of building thirteen.

Seitarou was used to handling anxiety attacks. He'd been diagnosed with general anxiety disorder back in high school, so he'd had a brief stint with counseling when he was seventeen. His counselor had taught him coping mechanisms to help with the attacks and helped him to change his thinking patterns to avoid the attacks and the anxiety altogether. He'd managed it well since then—if you ignored the series of nervous breakdowns accompanying his fourth semester of college—and hadn't had to fend off an anxiety attack for a couple years now.

Not until February...

Not until—No!

Stop thinking about it, he rebuked himself as he swiped his ID card to let himself out of the building. Stop thinking about it; that only makes things worse, and you're doing badly enough already.

The paralyzing panic that choked him after a nightmare was not something he was used to, and he couldn't seem to manage them the way he managed the anxiety attacks. It made Seitarou scared to fall asleep.

His heart was still pounding harder and louder than it should be, so he pressed a hand to his chest once more as he walked to the platform for the light rail that would take him closer to home.

Because the small apartment he inhabited among the guards' residences was the only home he had, his worldly possessions so few that he could pack everything he owned into a couple boxes and move out within an hour.

Nobody else was around, much to his relief, so he could make the short trip in peaceful solitude.