So...rather than make this even longer than it is already, I will just save a proper author's note for when I share the link to this on my Tumblr, so if you care to read the many things I have to say about this fic, look for that. But anyway, as the summary says, this is a major AU of Mirai-hen where Izayoi survives and Ruruka doesn't. And, well, I hope you enjoy this, and as always, please leave feedback!

I feel too light.

That was the first thing Izayoi thought when he woke up after the third time limit and he was able to sit up almost straight away. From that alone, he knew something was very, very wrong. Ruruka?

Looking around, it didn't take him long to establish that Ruruka had not just woken up a few moments before him, that she wasn't now sitting next to him, or at the other end of the sofa and waiting for him to wake up too. Her hat was still there, left there when she had taken it off and he had massaged her head, to try and ease her worries. And as he put his boots back on, he noticed that hers were still there too. Which meant only one thing-that the attacker had taken her.

But…..the traps. He got up quickly, and circled the room, doing a basic check. As far as he could see, everything was there. And nothing had been apparently disturbed. He wasn't at fault, there. It clearly wasn't enough, though. After all, if it had been, the attacker would not have been able to evade them. So without a backward glance, he left the room to find her.

"Ruruka? Ruruka, where are you?"

A small part of him knew it was futile and pointless to call out like that, not if her disappearance was the attacker's work. And another part of him knew it was stupid to advertise himself like that, not while the game was still afoot. But he didn't care. He couldn't care, not until he had found her. Not until then. Ruruka was more important. So he kept stalking the corridors and calling out to her, letting his feet take him in whatever direction they deemed fit, desperation increasing with every step.

And then he bumped into Sakakura.

The former boxer startled for a moment, and swore as he stepped back, but soon recovered, lifting his leg to kick him. Izayoi was able to dodge, and then quickly whip out one of his blades and in a few swift movements, had Sakakura up against the wall with a knife against his throat.

"Where is she? Where is Ruruka?" he all but growled. "Where is she?"

"Huh? Andou? How would I know? She's always with you." Sakakura snapped. He tried to make an evasive movement, ducking slightly and aiming to kick him away, but Izayoi wasn't having it.

"Where. Is.She?"

"I told you, I don't fucking know!" Sakakura protested, rolling his eyes. Izayoi studied Sakakura, but did not release him. He was trying to kill me, just now. There's no reason to trust what he says.

A few moments stretched by, neither of them making a move, when all of a sudden an unearthly scream echoed from further down the corridor, somewhere around the corner. Izayoi jumped back, startled. It was a man's scream, so there was no reason for him to think what he did-Ruruka. But it was enough to make him forget about Sakakura and run as fast as he could towards the noise.

"Ruruka?"

The first thing he saw was Mitarai and Kizakura, standing next to each other, both clearly taken aback by his sudden appearance and not registering it fully. Kizakura reacted first, his sleepy look shaken off for just a moment before it settled again, this time tinged with sorrow. Mitarai just looked sick, like he would throw up (if he hadn't already). But it was he who spoke first.

"Uh…I'm not sure you should…uh, see…."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Izayoi demanded. "Where is Ruruka? What do you know?"

"Now, now, Izayoi-kun, I think…." Kizakura sighed, as if thinking of what to do was too much of an effort.

"Mitarai-kun is right. Perhaps it's best if you do-"

"And have him wonder what became of her for the rest of his life?"

The cool female voice cut through Kizakura's meandering words, and Izayoi's hopes went up until he realised it was Kirigiri who was speaking. The former detective pushed between Mitarai and Kizakura, and looked up at Izayoi, face betraying no emotions. He noticed that she held a notebook and pen in her hands, and looked almost perfectly poised. Carved of ice, was the thought that his brain oddly threw up.

"He's going to find out sooner or later." Kirigiri directed these statements at Mitarai and Kizakura, though she continued to study him. Izayoi felt a little as though he was under a microscope, but refused to be ruffled by it. He just needed to know.

"Is…..Ruruka's dead, isn't she?" He bit his lip. Kirigiri nodded.

"Yes." She said, simply, before turning back and walking further to a point more in the centre of the room. Mitarai edged away to a corner, visibly averting his eyes from the same place, and though Kizakura looked like he didn't want Izayoi to proceed any further, he decided against saying anything and just went to follow Kirigiri, and made a motion with his right hand indicating that Izayoi should too. So he did, too, and it did not take long before he was stepping in blood. Ruruka's blood…even before he followed the trail with his eyes, he knew. And when he did, he could not believe what he was seeing. He could not fully process the injuries, the indignities inflicted on her, ones that he felt sure were taking up a hell of a lot of space in the notebook Kirigiri had. Ruruka….

"I….the attacker, right?" The words took too much effort to make, but he spat them out all the same. He could not look, and yet he could not look away from what had become of her, this girl he loved more than life itself. He was never going to forget the scared look in her dead eyes.

"This….this is the work of the attacker, isn't it?" he repeated. "It is, right?"

"I believe it to be so. But there are some differences, so I can't be sure yet. For example, the other attacker's victims did not have any….extraneous injuries. "Kirigiri answered, almost dispassionate. "But as I'm sure you can see, this attack was carried out with more rage."

Izayoi wanted to hate the former detective, for relating the facts with such cold precision, but at the same time, he knew it was not her fault, not really. In the end, Ruruka was still a victim, no matter how it was talked about. And he found that he could not help but mull over the words anyway. More rage. They…hated her? Why, who? Almost as soon as he asked himself these questions, an answer formed in his mind, and he looked up, rage bubbling up in him.

"Kimura. It has to have been Kimura." Kimura, that….

"Why?" Kirigiri asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What do you mean, why?" Izayoi raged. "Isn't it obvious? Kimura betrayed her and has hated us ever since. Of course it would be her! Where is she? I swear, I will…."

She has to pay. Kimura needs to pay, for what she did. I'll make her pay. Izayoi turned away, ready to hunt her down, inflict the same pain on her, wound for wound, when a hand closed around his wrist, and he turned to see Kirigiri staring at him again.

"It wasn't Kimura-san." She stated.

"How do you know?"

"Because she's dead, too."

"She's…what?"

"Kirigiri-Chan is right." Kizakura said. "We've just come from her, actually. She is undoubtedly dead, by the hands of the attacker."

"Kimura's dead?"

They all swivelled around to see Sakakura staring at the scene. He glared at them all, but there was a shocked look to him, too. Izayoi wondered how long he had been there, if he had been following.

"Well at least that makes my job easier, I suppose." Sakakura shrugged off whatever he was feeling at that news, and approached menacingly. Izayoi got his knives out again, Kirigiri stiffened and watched the proceedings, Kizakura gritted his teeth and got ready to pounce, and Mitarai cowered in his corner, eyes wide.

"Oh shit, is that Andou?" Sakakura stopped suddenly, and stared at Ruruka's body. "That's just…..oh hell, that's going too far."

Just like that, Sakakura's fight seemed to have disappeared, and his shoulders slumped slightly. For a moment, all that could be heard was their breathing, filling the room.

"So then," Sakakura sighed in annoyance. "I presume you're investigating this, detective."

"Naturally." Kirigiri raised an eyebrow. Sakakura nodded.

"Right, okay. Hell…hell." Sakakura swallowed as he looked at Ruruka one more time, then turned away. Kirigiri knelt by Ruruka and seemed to check something over again. Then, she stood up, and went over to Izayoi.

"Where were you two, before?" she asked.

"The library." Izayoi answered, mechanically. Kirigiri nodded.

"Then in that case, we'll go there."

"Sounds like a good strategy to me, Kirigiri-Chan."

"No, you can't!" Izayoi blurted out.

They all gawped at him in astonishment. Izayoi stared back at them before remembering that there was no point hiding the secret entrance anymore. There was no reason to, after all. It was not going to make a difference. He looked at Ruruka again, and swallowed back a scream at everything that had been done to her. Then, though it pained him just as much to do this, he turned away.

"Never mind, actually. But if you want to get in there, I'll need to go first."

…

"My oh my, Izayoi-kun. You're sure giving us a lot of work here." Kizakura said as he dismantled yet another trap. Izayoi, for his part, just ignored him as the pile continued growing.

As different portions of the room gradually became trap-free, Kirigiri wandered around, looking for clues, Mitarai shadowing her anxiously. Sakakura just stood in the corner, scowling at everything. Izayoi kept on dismantling other traps, feeling increasingly useless with each one. In the end, none of them had been enough. There had been no point. All this, and none of it was enough to protect her. There was no point.

"This is the bookshelf?" Kirigiri asked suddenly, startling Izayoi. He glanced over, and nodded quickly, before looking away again, not wanting to see.

He felt himself shaking, and stopped what he was doing, clenching his fists, trying to stop it. He bit his lip, hard, and felt the skin break, a small stream of blood dribbling down. Carelessly, he wiped it away, and looked around the room. His gaze fell on the hat on the sofa, and Ruruka's boots, and his heart clenched. As the others worked and talked around him, he approached the sofa, almost trembling as he did so.

"H-How did you know that's the shelf hiding the door, Kirigiri-san?" Mitarai was asking.

"Do you see that there?"

"T-the m-mark on the floor?"

"Yes. "

"But I don't get it."

"It's a scrape mark, presumably caused by something heavy having been dragged back there. Logically, it cannot be anything but the bookshelf that caused this. In any case, Izayoi confirmed it, and he would know."

"B-but h-how do…how can….?"

"I know that he is telling the truth?" Kirigiri's voice seemed a few degrees cooler as she asked this.

"Mitarai-kun has got a point;" Kizakura put in. "How are you so sure that Izayoi-kun isn't the attacker?"

"I would have never hurt Ruruka!" Izayoi whips back around at this, seeing red, holding on tightly to Ruruka's hat as he gestured wildly to the useless pile of traps.

"All of this was for her!" None of this means anything, without her.

Kirigiri made an irritated noise, and shook her head.

"Rest easy, Izayoi. I never had any reason to suspect you."

At this, she rolled her eyes, though the gesture was clearly not aimed at him, but Kizakura, who laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head with his hand.

"Point taken, point taken." Kizakura surrendered. "But anyway, it's not like I want to continue telling you how to do your job or anything, but what about the door? Are you not going to reveal it?"

Kirigiri made another irritated noise, but got up and proceeded to push the bookshelf. Mitarai moved to help, and though it budged slightly, it did not yield. Izayoi watched, almost impassive, wondering what they would make of it, but did not move to help, even as it became clear that Kirigiri and Mitarai weren't going to be able to do it. But an impatient Sakakura did, striding over and grabbing the bookshelf with both hands and then almost ripping it away. The bookshelf slid away easily, but in the process it also toppled over, sending some books flying. Mitarai pushed Kirigiri away from the path of the falling bookcase, and managed to get away from it himself, but it did not stop a book from clipping his shoulder. Kizakura, on the other side, wasn't in the path of the shelf, but did get covered with dust as it fell.

"Well, that's one way of doing it." Kizakura shrugged as he dusted himself down.

"Indeed. I wonder if this will turn out to be an exit though." Kirigiri wondered.

The room was now in an utter state, but it mattered little, as now the door was revealed. It looked exactly the same as before. Izayoi hated the very sight of it.

"W-Why is it Monobear?!" Mitarai spluttered, ignored by all of them. Izayoi resisted the urge to point out the ridiculous Monolisa picture hanging on the wall-how had the former animator not noticed that? - and just sat down, heavily.

Sakakura kicked away books and fragments of wood to reach the door and begin to try and wrench it open. With no discernible door handles, or hinges, or anything of that sort, there was no clear way for the door to open, and it didn't seem that Sakakura's brand of brute force was doing anything about that. Kirigiri, Mitarai and Kizakura watched him for a moment, and then Kirigiri shrugged.

"Well then, I think I'm done here."

"Oho, where off to next, Kirigiri-Chan?"

"Y-You're finished here already? You found what you need?"

Their voices disappeared as they left, apparently having forgotten Izayoi. He was, in a way, glad of that fact. What now? For a moment, he watched Sakakura grunting as he battled with the door, and considered helping, but pushed the thought away. Instead, he picked up Ruruka's boots, got up, and mutely left the room.

…

Izayoi took off his jacket, and ripped out parts of the lining into rags to use to clean the blood on her skin and hair. He rearranged her limbs carefully, so that it didn't look as if she had just been flung there. He carefully closed her eyelids and used two coins he'd had in his pockets to keep them that way, so that she looked less terrified. After he had scooped the blood covered sweets out, he gently snapped her mouth closed, too. Tenderly, he slipped her boots back on her legs, and considered putting her hat back on her head, but in the end, he tucked it into his pocket, and resorted to trying to neaten her hair, comb it with his fingers. He suspected that she would not mind this.

He pulled together the remains of her clothes the best he could, trying to maintain some sense of her dignity. The fur collar of her coat had almost come off, and looked as if it were strangling her, so he used one of his blades to cut it off, and used it as another rag to clean her. As he cast it into the same pile as the sweets, he winced as he recalled how pleased she had been the day she'd brought that jacket. He used his fingerless gloves to try and mask the damage done to her own hands, though there was little he could have done for her fingers apart from cleaning them. Though it was painful to do, he pulled the knife out of her chest, placed it in the same pile as the fur collar, and then cleaned the area with rags and a little more clothing rearrangement. The blood that seeped out around and under her was mopped up too, though the job was sloppy, and some of the clothes he was still wearing soaked it up instead.

Eventually though, he stopped, realising there was only so much he could do. Though she seemed asleep if he squinted, she still looked troubled, in pain. She was still dead. But this, at least, was something. So took a deep breath in, fancying that under the stark scent of blood he could smell her scent, of sugar biscuits and strawberries. He traced her jawline with his fingers, stroked her hair, kissed her forehead and her lips for one last time, and then took his coat and gently settled it on top of her, arranging it so that it seemed as if she was tucked in.

"When this is over and we get out, I'll bury you properly." He said to her. "I'll bury you properly, with a proper funeral, all the rites. More flowers than you could have ever imagined being in one place at one time, enough candles there so that you can see us, from wherever you are now. The world will know for sure, how loved you were. I promise, if this is the last thing that I can do for you, then that is what will happen."

As the time ticked by, signalling the approach of the next time limit, he kept repeating this promise, over and over again. Tears clouded his eyes, and his voice too, but he swallowed them down and wiped them away as he repeated this promise to her, over and over. Because it was the only thing preventing him from reaching over and stabbing that knife into what was left of his own heart.

…

"Makoto Naegi, have you learnt of Kyouko Kirigiri's forbidden action yet? Now do you know how useless your platitudes are?"

Awake again, Izayoi half-listened to Munakata's words as they rang around the building, transmitted for everyone in the building to hear. He was more focused on walking aimlessly around the building, looking for a way out-though really, he was walking around aimlessly, empty. But even so, listening to Munakata taunting Naegi over the microphone system, there was a part of him that wondered if he shouldn't be there, watching it happen. Perhaps that way, he'd get the truth about what had happened to Ruruka, so that there'd be some place to direct his rage. Perhaps then, he'd be able to move on enough to put together the funeral that he had promised. He deliberately did not think about what would come after that. But he wondered about it as he walked, wondered if he should join Naegi and whoever else was with him.

"Izayoi-san!"

Ah, speak of the devil. At the other end of the corridor, Izayoi saw Naegi, Asahina, Mitarai, Kizakura and Sakakura, all coming towards him. For some reason, Sakakura was not walking alone. Instead, he was being half-dragged by Naegi and Asahina, and when he got closer, he saw the reason why, in the form of bloodstains and make-shift bandages that had apparently been made from either Naegi, Asahina or Kizakura's blazers, as all three were missing them. Though Asahina was also missing her shirt and tie too, for some reason.

"What happened?" he asked.

He was honestly surprised at the state of the former boxer. Not only did he look pale and weak from the stab wound (which was understandable), but there was also an utterly haunted look about his face, as though his entire world and everything he'd thought he'd understood about it had come crashing down. Izayoi suspected he would see the same thing on his own face, if he had a mirror to hand.

"M-Munakata." Sakakura rasped. Izayoi frowned. Sakakura had basically dedicated his entire existence to Munakata. It did not make sense for him to just suddenly turn around and stab him. Just what sort of mess is this game? What is it trying to do to us? To me?

"We're not sure what happened either." Naegi explained. "We were on our way to Munakata-san, when we came across Sakakura-san in the corridor. We thought he was dead at first…"

"But he wasn't, so we stayed to help." Asahina pulled a face. "Not that he's expressed any gratitude."

"…..why…..should I…." Sakakura stopped and gasped as pain took him over.

"In any case, though he's in a state, as long as nothing else happens, he should be fine. I guess. Not that I'd know." Kizakura shrugged, and his tone seemed unusually caustic.

"T-The w-wound didn't affect anywhere major, and it was cauterised." Mitarai added. Izayoi blinked and narrowed his eyes.

"You mean to say the weapon was heated?" A chill went through him, as he remembered the sword that had been hanging behind the secret door. He had not examined it long, but it had looked like one that could be heated.

"We believe so." Naegi nodded soberly. "But still, that worked in our favour. It gave us a chance to try and save him, at least…."

Sakakura curled his lip at this. There was clearly no love lost for this group, despite the fact of them having saved him. But nobody else seemed to notice this. Asahina just sighed sadly, and it was then that Izayoi noticed the tear tracks on her face, and how there were tears welling but not falling from Naegi's eyes. Kizakura looked incredibly grim, and Mitarai just seemed more hollow than he usually was (which, from what he knew of him, was saying something).He remembered Munakata's taunts, and thought of the lilac-eyed detective. Ice-carved, but maybe not as much as I'd thought.

"….Kirigiri was the victim this time?"

"Depends how you look at it." Kizakura bitterly replied.

"It was her Forbidden Action." Asahina explained. "Such a stupid, stupid one too! Kyouko-Chan wasn't allowed to have Naegi live past the fourth time limit."

And it's been the fourth time limit now. Ah. Ah, I see. Izayoi gritted his teeth. He hated this game. He hated it.

"I only wish she had told us before, though…."

Izayoi clicked his teeth in annoyance at Naegi. Of course she hadn't told him what her Forbidden Action was, with one like that. He, like most others, knew full well the events that had happened in the 78th Class's killing game. And then there was the added fact that Kirigiri had been Naegi's boss. They were close, any fool with eyes could have seen it. It was obvious, that if Naegi had known, he would have most likely killed himself, just for the chance to save her. And she would have known that, too. If it had been me, if I could have died in Ruruka's place, to ensure her survival, I would have done it.

"Ah, Izayoi-san! Kirigiri-san told us about…you know. I'm sorry." Naegi burst out suddenly, almost as if reading his mind. Even though Naegi was clearly battling his own grief, there was clearly much compassion for Izayoi's own pain too, and this startled him enough that he inclined his head, once, by way of thanks, and then surveyed them all.

"Are we going to go then? To confront Munakata?"

"G-gladly." Sakakura muttered. "I want….to know what… the hell…. is up….with him….and this….and why…."

Izayoi studied Sakakura. Though there was a height difference, and Asahina seemed strong enough, he somehow didn't think that dragging was going to be particularly productive right now. Especially since someone would have to carry Naegi too, if they all needed to run. And I need answers.

"Let me help there, if I can." He indicated, and the others seemed to get his meaning instantly.

"A-ah! Are you sure?!" Asahina asked. Izayoi sighed, and nodded. I want this to be over. So Naegi, Asahina and Kizakura helped to shift a very grumpy Sakakura onto his back, and with much effort, he was able to manage the weight, and stand up.

"Naegi! We can run now, so hop on!"

Clearly well practised at this by that point, Naegi did indeed hop onto Asahina's back. Then, they all looked at each other for a moment. Naegi caught his eye for a moment, and smiled sorrowfully.

"Seems like it's all or nothing now." Kizakura commented.

"It is now, I think. But it's for Kirigiri-san, and Andou-san, and everyone else too. So we can do it, okay?"

They all responded in the affirmative, and then they were off, rushing towards whatever the end of this would bring to them.

…

"You're not going to eat?"

Everyone in that helicopter-Naegi, Asahina, Kizakura, and Mitarai (Sakakura had been bundled up in another one, to receive emergency medical treatment), all had a bag of food-snack-type things-, provided for them by one of Byakuya Togami's workers when they had finally escaped, and they were all eating something or other from it, with differing levels of enthusiasm. Yasuhiro Hagakure was also with them and eating happily, though he hadn't even been in the killing game (safely outside all along, as it turned out). Togami himself was somehow managing to hold onto a cup of tea as they flew.

Izayoi, on the other hand, had not even touched his, and this had now caught the attention of Asahina, who looked at him with some concern. But he did not answer her.

"I….it's not so bad for us, because we managed to find some food earlier…" Naegi trailed off. Izayoi turned his stare to him. Despite the small kindnesses that Naegi had shown him, he couldn't bring himself to smile or thank him or anything of that sort now.

"Exactly!You've not eaten for at least 8 hours, thanks to your forbidden action!" Asahina agreed enthusiastically. "When did you last eat, anyway?"

"Uh….." His mind flashed back to sweets, Ruruka's sweets, moments before Naegi had arrived with Kirigiri and Asahina for his trial and sentencing. He just shrugged.

"Man, you should eat a something, then, Izayoicchi." Hagakure said between mouthfuls. "It's not much fun if you survived this only to collapse of starvation or something, y'know?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, it's disgusting." Togami snapped. Hagakure just laughed and ignored him, which made Asahina jump in on the scold-Hagakure bandwagon. Still, knowing that the others were likely to badger him anyway if he continued to refuse, Izayoi took a packet of crisps and opened it, and starting from there, mechanically made his way through the food he had been given.

Just as he had known it would, none of it tasted like anything.

…

They all had a couple of days to rest and recover (Sakakura, fairly, had a bit longer than that), but almost straight after, they were thrown back into the task of recovering evidence from the former Future Foundation building, retrieving the bodies, using said evidence/Kirigiri's notebook to put together the reports about it, and generally setting about fixing the world again. In this way, many of the answers sought were given, which gave him some sort of closure. There wasn't, however, any real explanation of why those responsible had deviated from pattern when it had come to Ruruka, no reasons provided as to why she'd had to suffer so much more. It was suspected that it had been done to target him, to bring him into despair. But even with the impressive wealth of information Kirigiri had left behind, there was no answer. An answer wouldn't bring her back though, and he supposed that knowing what he did know was enough, so he let this go.

Though of course they more or less had to rebuild the Future Foundation from the bottom, it seemed that for the most part, the worst bringers of despair had gone, and their job really was about rebuilding. Naegi devoted himself mostly to rehabilitating the five Remnants who had successfully awakened from the program, and the rest of them just helped wherever they could, in whatever area their skill sets allowed.

A couple of months in, things were such that the funerals for the victims of the Future Foundation killing game could be held. It was a large, sad but also colourful affair, one for which a surprising amount of people had turned up for. Though the game had not been broadcast, once the Future Foundation as it had been had dissolved, plenty had heard of it, and many had grieved for the ones lost, even if it was for the general concept, rather than the more intimate grieving over a particular person. And as such, there were many, many flowers, more than anyone could have imagined in a room. Plenty of candles were lit too, and he was sure that anyone in the afterlife would be able to see them from there. And though it was not just Ruruka's funeral, he was sure that the world knew how loved she had been.

So on that night, he made silent plans to kill himself.

He'd survived the game, had done what was needed, fulfilled his promise. He'd had enough of this world without her, so it was the only natural thing to do. So, as everyone slept in their own dorm rooms, he went around and put all his things away into boxes and bags, labelling them methodically, and leaving notes about what to do so that things would at least be easier for everyone who had to clean up after him. But because it was late, and he had more things than expected, it took him until nearly sunrise to complete everything. It didn't bother him though, as he sat on his bed and found the knife he knew would be perfect for the task, and stared at the one photograph of her he had on his bedside table. But just as he lifted the knife, a sharp rapping at the door interrupted his thoughts.

For crying out loud. The rapping was persistent, and he knew he would not be able to carry through until he had seen the person away. So sighing, he shoved the knife under his pillow, and stalked over to the door.

"What is it?" he grumbled.

"Teach me about weapons."

Sakakura was the last person that Izayoi would have expected to come knocking for him, so it took him a moment to process this.

"Hey, Izayoi, did you hear me? I said, teach me about weapons."

"What do you mean?" Izayoi asked, blinking slowly. Sakakura made an annoyed noise.

"I mean as in handling them, using them. To fight. You know?"

"You're a boxer." Izayoi stated bluntly.

"I'm aware of that." Sakakura said slowly, as though he was a moron. "But I can't always rely on that, can I? I'd rather not be in a situation where I am completely helpless like that."

Sakakura's face contorted for a second, and he subconsciously touched the area on his torso where Izayoi assumed the scar was, and he understood.

"I'll….." Izayoi hesitated. "Alright. I'll give you a crash course."

So he invited Sakakura in, and did just that. Sakakura didn't comment on the boxes, if he even noticed them, and seemed receptive to what Izayoi told him. But by the time he was out, a few hours later, Izayoi felt the moment to end things had passed, and just figured that he'd do it the next night. But that evening, Sakakura came again, asking for more lessons. And then he came again the next morning, and the next evening, and the next mornings and evenings after that. Persistent, insistent and almost pissy with it, Sakakura kept knocking at his room door and requesting lessons on how to understand and use weapons, twice a day, almost like clockwork. Sometimes they remained in his room, but more and more often, they used the gym or other suitable facilities. Sakakura even seemed magnanimous enough to offer Izayoi a few pointers on how to use his fists, in return.

A few weeks of this, and Izayoi came to anticipate it with an odd eagerness, often already ready for Sakakura by the time he came. A little bit later, he unboxed all of his things and put them back in place, and put away that particular knife for good.

…

In the third year after they had escaped the killing game, three major things happened.

The first was that Izayoi was able to open up shop again, and so he moved away from what had become the new Future Foundation building, and did just that. It was not much different from his shop before the Tragedy, but the area was a quieter, more neighbourly place. As his old shop had been, this new one was called S&A, for his parents. It got off the ground quite quickly, and though the area he was in meant that there would be less busy days, all in all, it could be said to be successful, and he was satisfied.

Then, Naegi and Asahina announced that they were going to get married. With their existing friendship and other common grounds, the two had been growing closer to each other over the years, tentatively but surely, and this was the result. It also seemed that they would be getting to start their own family, soon after their marriage did happen, for Asahina (now Aoi to everyone) was pregnant, too. It was news that pleased Izayoi, thought it saddened him, too, reminding him of things he'd never get a chance to experience. All the same, when Naegi (who asked people to now call him Makoto) asked if he would make their wedding rings, he rose to the challenge.

But this happy news was almost overshadowed by the death of Kizakura, which ended up both surprising and unsurprising. He had seemed to cope well in the immediate days after being rescued, but, always a heavy drinker, his alcohol intake had quietly but noticeably increased, and he had become increasingly wavering to match this as time had gone by. Still living in the dorms, the likes of Komaru Naegi, Sakakura and Mitarai had all seen this occur, and had all been unable to prevent it.
In the months leading up to his death, they had all heard the constantly drunken Kizakura arguing with the ghosts of the Kirigiris, particularly the one who had been the late principal of Hope's Peak. In his very final days, the arguments had turned into pleas for forgiveness. The death had been a sad, lonely one, his liver having given out while he was mid-vodka one night, leaving him slumped across his table, still searching for forgiveness from ghosts.
But though his funeral was more subdued and private, there were still flowers, and candles and all the honours, just as there had been for Kirigiri, Ruruka, and everyone else. And he was buried with them too. For though death had claimed him three years late, he was clearly also a victim of the killing game.

After this, Izayoi wondered if the same regard would be given to him, when his time finally came.

…

It was a quiet afternoon, so Izayoi decided to go into the back to the office, catch up on the annoying but essential paperwork that was part of running a shop. But he left the door open, so he could hear if a customer did come through, and that was how he saw the two run into his shop unexpectedly and hide behind his counter.

Their entrance was quite noisy, and the two figures themselves seemed to blur from how fast they were, and so he could not really see anything that told him anything about the two. So quietly and carefully, he got up, grabbed a weapon in case he needed to fight, and went to see what was happening.

"Hey, Atsuya, they won't think to look here, right?"

The voice was young, female and came from one of the crouching figures, small, with long dark hair, carrying a red elementary school backpack. Her companion-Atsuya, presumably-had a similar style black backpack, and was also dark-headed, though his hair was inkier and wavier than hers. Their backs were turned to him, but they faced each other, huddling together. Children. He stepped back into the office quickly to put the weapon back, and then came out to watch them, still being quiet and making sure that they did not notice him.

"No, I don't think s-"

All of a sudden a cacophony could be heard outside- more children, running. Izayoi couldn't make out what they were saying, but it sounded like they had been pursuing someone, and now couldn't find them. They didn't even stop in front of his shop, and just continued to rush past, mindless in the way of young children. Atsuya and the girl looked up fearfully in the direction of the sound, but once it faded, their shoulders relaxed. Izayoi found that he, too, had been tensed, for some reason.

"That was them. I guess….I guess it's okay now…" the girl said. "But anyway, what is this place?"

The girl got up first and slowly spun around to look around-and then caught Izayoi staring at them, and went pale, letting out a little strangled gasp and stumbling back.

"What's wrong, Em? Oh!"

Now that he, too, had turned around, Atsuya blinked up at Izayoi, who just stared back at the children. He noticed how very, very small they were. He did not have that much experience with children-just a few isolated Future Foundation related missions in the past, and the acquaintanceship he had with Makoto and Aoi's two. Kyouko Naegi was now thirteen, and her brother Yuta was 10. These two children seemed younger than that, and he made the cautious guess of 8 years, but in truth, he wasn't sure.

"Is this….is this your shop?" Atsuya asked, moving forward, slightly shielding the girl-Em? That has to be a nickname.-while gripping her hand tightly. The boy's features were pale and angular, almost sharp, and softened only by his wavy, tousled hair and round hazel eyes, which were currently filled with a combination of fear, suspicion and determination. There was something about it that made Izayoi smile to himself, and so he knelt down to their height.

"It is." He said, making an effort to sound as gentle as possible. "I'm a blacksmith."

The two kids frowned at this.

"As in metal?" The girl asked, studying him with very dark violet eyes, which were slightly oval in shape. Izayoi nodded. What do I say or ask next?

"That's right. Very good. Would you like to see around the shop?"

"You're not mad? About us running in?" The girl's voice wobbled, and Izayoi saw Atsuya squeeze her hand in reassurance.

Izayoi shook his head.

"No, of course not. It's quiet in here, as you can see. I was starting to get bored." Oh well, it was just paperwork. "So, would you like to?"

The two exchanged glances, and then nodded. Izayoi got up, and worked his way around the shop area, and just talked. He couldn't think of how to make it more understandable to them, how to explain his work to children, so he just talked, explained it all the way he understood it. The more he did, the more he found himself getting into it-such an opportunity, to explain this occupation that had been passed down to him and that he still took so much pride in, did not come often-and so he found himself getting carried away. He even took them around to the back and showed them the workshop, how the different tools worked, everything.

For their part, the children did not seem to be too bothered and overwhelmed. They were wary and almost silent at first, but eventually, they started to speak, and ask questions, and they visibly relaxed in his company. And in fits and starts, he found out a little about them too. Atsuya's full name was Atsuya Itou, and 'Em' turned out to be short for Emiri Kiyomizu. His guess about their age had been close-they were nine years old, and in fourth grade, and Atsuya was three months younger than Emiri. She was an avid reader, whereas he enjoyed paper crafts, they both liked ice-cream and quiz shows, and they both got good grades at school. Emiri's parents worked a lot, and were often late home. Atsuya had been orphaned because of a traffic accident, and had moved to the area a few months ago to live with his aunt and four cousins. He had transferred to Emiri's class, and as she had been lonely herself, they quickly became fast friends.

But Atsuya's cousin, all elementary schoolers, two of them in the same grade (an 11 month difference, not twins), resented their cousin living with them, despite the tragedy he had suffered, and had started bullying him in school, encouraging the others in their class to either join in or just isolate them. Emiri had been the only one to refuse and make it known she had (in a moment of bravery that had surprised her a lot), and thus she had been ostracized too. Most of the adults around them were oblivious to it, and Atsuya was convinced his aunt would not believe him if he said anything. The after-school journey in particular had been hell for them over the past couple of weeks or so, and they spent most of it looking for places to hide and catch a breath.

Once he knew this in particular, Izayoi found himself silently vowing that the two of them could seek sanctuary in his shop whenever they needed to hide, and when he had exhausted everything that he could possibly tell them about his skill and his shop, he prepared to tell them this. But it seemed that Atsuya and Emiri had other ideas.

"Could you teach us all of this?" Emiri asked, looking up at him.

"Teach?"

"This, with the metal? Being a blacksmith." Atsuya elaborated.

"You want to learn?" Izayoi blinked, still not fully believing. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes!" The two of them said in unison, solemn. Izayoi studied them. Momentarily, an image flashed up in his mind, of a sandy-haired child with wide blue eyes, calmly chomping on a home-made sweet and standing by his side, carefully watching him forge a sword. But just as quickly, it disappeared like the impossible dream it was, and he was back to looking at Atsuya and Emiri. I suppose… it would not be a bad thing.

"All right then."

…

When they turned up the next afternoon, he started training them immediately. He did not see himself as a teacher, but it seemed that he was okay at teaching, for the session went well. But he got the phone numbers of Atsuya's aunt and Emiri's parents before the children went home, so he could make sure that it would be okay for him to continue, and even see them on weekends and holidays and other such things. Atsuya's aunt answered the phone the first time he called, and seemed pleased that her nephew was getting the chance to learn an occupation-he got a sense of a woman who loved Atsuya as much as she did her own children, but who was reeling from the death of her sibling, struggling as a single parent and therefore unable to properly help him. With Emiri's parents, he had to leave a voicemail, but a couple of afternoons afterwards, Emiri presented him with a handwritten letter from her father that granted him the permission he needed to continue. Once those issues were cleared, he then allowed himself to officially consider Atsuya and Emiri his apprentices.

Emiri turned out to be a surprising natural with metal almost immediately, having an affinity for working with the material and shaping it to whatever she needed it to be, an instinct for what she needed to do to get what she wanted. It seemed clear that she was made to be a blacksmith. Atsuya did not have this innate sense, but worked hard and endured, and that alone was enough to yield decent results from him, too. Izayoi found himself constantly surprised by both of them, and almost always pleased too. He started to keep ice-cream in his freezer just for them to have as a reward after working, and found himself encouraging them to tell him about their days, or anything they wanted to talk about, and just generally became fond of them.

When they started to address him as 'Izayoi-sensei', it made him feel warm and fuzzy in a way that he had not felt in a long time, not since the last time he had been called 'Yoi-Chan', though of course this feeling was a slightly different one. So though he did not know why, exactly, he had accepted them, he was certainly glad that he had.

…

When he arrived at the site where they were buried, he was alone. But that was to be expected-when he went, he tended to time it that way. He preferred being alone here. From time to time, Sakakura would unexpectedly turn up while he was there, or turn up at his flat's door and insist on accompanying, and on the 10th anniversary, they'd both met up with all the rest of the survivors to commemorate the occasion. But generally speaking, he preferred to be here alone, to remember alone, just like he was doing today.

He didn't say a word as he walked around the graves, pulling out a couple of flowers from the large bunch at each grave and setting them down, paying his respects momentarily before moving onto the next one. He lingered a little while longer at Kizakura's grave, set down a few more flowers for him than he had for everyone else, and cleared away some of the moss on his stone. Then, as always, he arrived at Ruruka's last, and knelt down.

He did not put the new flowers down straight away, instead setting them aside and cleaning up the old ones left, using some of the cleaning materials he had to scrub her gravestone clean. He didn't have too much to do, as someone had been there recently, tidying up. Most likely Makoto, or even Kyouko, whom he knew spent a lot of time visiting her namesake. But still, he cleaned it, and only when he was satisfied did he pick up the new flowers and arrange them carefully in front. Then, he leaned back, and thought of what he could say to her this time.

"Izayoi-sensei!"

"Yup, knew you'd be here."

Atsuya? Emiri? Sakakura? Sure enough, when he looked up, all three of them were there, the two children running ahead, Sakakura loping behind and looking bemused.

"Izayoi-sensei! You weren't there!" Atsuya cried out. Izayoi sighed and rubbed at his forehead for a moment.

"I told you, didn't I? The shop would be closed today."

"But….but… you weren't even in your home!" Emiri protested, her voice watery. Now he was looking at them closely, both the children looked upset.

"We thought maybe we could come and play with you, or something-right, Em?" Atsuya asked. When Emiri nodded, Atsuya frowned exaggeratedly at him.

"But when we came, we knocked and knocked and rang the bell, but you weren't there at all! And we waited for ages."

"I found them sitting on your doorstep about an hour or so ago. Tried to send them away, but they weren't having it." Sakakura put in at this point. Izayoi nodded.

"So you came around today then."

"Tch. Of course. I haven't forgotten the day." I never said you did, Izayoi thought still gave Sakakura tips on weaponry and received pointers about boxing in return, and they did regularly practise with each other. But these days, for obvious reasons, rather than banging down his door and refusing to go away, Sakakura tended to ring him and refuse to stop trying until he answered. But still, from time to time, particularly when it was an anniversary such as this one (or her birthday), he would still make the journey from his home to Izayoi's flat, and bang down his door. It annoyed and gladdened Izayoi in equal measure.

"So, anyway." Sakakura blustered on. "These kids the apprentices?"

"Yes, they are. Did you two introduce yourselves?" Izayoi asked them. They nodded in unison.

"Is he your friend then? He didn't say." Emiri asked, tremulously, pointing warily at Sakakura.

"In a manner of speaking." Izayoi answered neutrally as Sakakura snorted in derision. Atsuya and Emiri exchanged looks, and then shrugged, clearly not sure what to make of the answer.

"A-anyway, Izayoi-sensei!" Atsuya piped up. "We made something for you!"

Izayoi blinked at him, then noticed that he was pointing to a bag that Emiri was holding.

"Mama was home yesterday evening, and she didn't have much to do. So I asked her what you make for a sad person, and she suggested cakes. So we made cakes together."

"Ah, I see, that's good." Izayoi mused, noting how pleased Emiri was that her mother had been able to spend time with her. But his mind also snagged on what she said had been made-cakes.

"You seemed sad about it, when you explained about today being closed." Atsuya added. "That's why we thought to make you something and come to play. To cheer you up."

"I…I've never made cakes before. I hope they're good!" Emiri blurted out in a rush, shoving the bag at him. Izayoi grabbed it, and looked inside it, pulling out a Tupperware box and opening the lid to see an assortment of cupcakes.

"Yoi-Chan, Yoi-Chan! Try these!" Ruruka beamed as she held out a plate to him, her latest creation artfully arranged on it.

"Oh boy, this is going to be interesting." Sakakura huffed. Atsuya and Emiri whipped around and stared at Sakakura, clearly still suspicious of him.

"You've been apprenticed to him for six months, right? Haven't you noticed his weird hang-up around sweet things? He never eats things that are homemade or handcrafted or whatever. Just generic, processed, brand-name things. He's been weird like that for the past sixteen freaking years."

Because at least between shop-bought and Ruruka's, there's no comparing them. Of course, he did not say this. He had never said this.

"So…..so you don't like them?" Atsuya asked, turning back to him and looking up at him appealingly. Izayoi sighed, and put a hand on Atsuya's head, ruffling his hair slightly before letting his hand fall down by his side again. He then looked at Emiri, who had her hands over her heart as she gazed at him. Izayoi closed his eyes for a moment, pained, then studied the cupcakes again.

Silently, he took one, and put it to his mouth. He ate mechanically, dispassionately, mentally talking himself through the procedure of each bite, as he tended to do. Trying not to shudder, he worked through it as if it were any other food. For that reason, it took him a moment to realise that he could taste it.

"S-strawberry?" he asked through a mouthful. "Strawberries, cream, chocolate…blueberries?"

"Yeah!" Emiri confirmed, clearly pleased. Izayoi barely registered it though, as he slowed down his chewing for a moment, to be sure he wasn't imagining things.

I…I can taste it. It tastes….it tastes. And it's….

"This is good." He muttered as he chomped the rest down, eagerly, painfully. "This is…so good. It's de-de-dewicious."

"Haha, Em, Sensei said 'dewicious' instead of 'delicious'!" Atsuya giggled. "He likes it!"

"Yeah, it seems like it-Oh! Atsuya, he's crying! Izayoi-sensei is crying!"

"He-oh! Izayoi-sensei, what's wrong? What's wrong?"

As Izayoi wiped away and sniffed back the tears, Atsuya climbed onto his knee and wrapped his arms around him, settling his head against his chest, and Emiri stood on his other side, leaning slightly against him, watching him carefully. Sakakura sighed heavily and sat down next to them, and said nothing, just frowned pensively. Izayoi finished the first cupcake, and instantly went to another one, chomping it down eagerly, wondering at his new-found ability to taste, and hoping that it was alright that he had it, even if it would only last as long as that moment.

…

He regretted it instantly, waking up in the middle of the night in a strange bed with a strange woman. Woozy, he could not fully remember the events that had led him here. But he was not drunk-he never drank, and so he knew enough to know that he had been a fool without the help of alcohol. He shouldn't have let the basic male response to a pretty face, good body and overt flirting overwhelm him, but he had, and now he was here. And now he had to go.

The digital clock on the bedside table told him it was barely past two in the morning, so he kept as silent as possible as he eased out of the bed and dressed himself swiftly. He looked down at the sleeping woman as he stood up to do up his jacket. Objectively, she was beautiful with perfectly sculpted features, a model's proportions, and silky red hair. He remembered her gold eyes as cat-like, full of devilish laughter. But subjectively, her beauty did not measure up to his ideals. And he could never love her. Never. A fleeting moment of carnal desires being satiated could never, ever compensate for that. Especially not now that whatever pleasure he'd had was overshadowed by immense self-hatred.
He knew it would hurt this woman-whose name he couldn't even remember anymore-to wake up and notice him gone. She would probably hate him. But he knew she'd hate him more if he stayed, and she got ideas that they could be together, and then had to live with constantly always being held up to and compared to Ruruka's memory. No, this night had to only be an isolated event, a single aberration.

Perhaps though, I should leave a note? He considered this, but dismissed the idea, knowing there was nothing he was willing to confide that would justify things. But looking at her, knowing that she didn't deserve this, he felt a little bad for her. In sleep, her limbs were flung about, the quilt twisted around her somewhat awkwardly. Ruruka…Painfully. So he held his breath, and slowly and carefully straightened her out and neatened the quilt, tucking it back in around her so that she'd be a bit more comfortable. He arranged her hair around her too, but not wanting to push his luck and have her wake, he decided that this was all he was able and prepared to do for her, and so he crept out of the room, slunk downstairs and slipped out of the backdoor.

It was a fairly long way back to his flat, but he walked the entire distance, not caring how punishing it was for his legs, not stopping for a single moment on the journey. When he got back, he made straight for his bathroom, sunk to his knees in front of the toilet bowl, and was promptly and violently sick. Despicable…I'm despicable.

Once he had finished, he numbly cleaned up, and then went to wash his face and mouth, deliberately avoiding seeing himself in the mirror. After that, he wearily meandered to his bedroom, and took off his jacket, hanging it on the back of his door, before sitting down on his bead heavily, opening his bedside drawer, and pulling out Ruruka's hat. He held it close to his face, closed his eyes and breathed in. Any scent on it had of course long since faded, but he thought he could smell her, all strawberries and sugar biscuits.

"Yoi-Chan!"

Her face, her sweet, smiling face, appeared in his mind. He shuddered, and held the hat closer to him.

"I'm sorry, Ruruka. I'm so, so sorry. "

…

When he realised that he couldn't hear Atsuya and Emiri, it caught his attention. He'd sent them away for a one-hour lunch break, though strictly speaking it wasn't lunchtime, and was sitting in the back, doing some reading. He was not unduly worried by the lack of noise-they were fifteen, after all, he was fairly sure that they could take care of himself. But he was used to always being able to hear them-when together alone, they were fairly chatty, and even when they didn't say much, he could hear them anyway. So this sudden silence had him curious, and so he got up, leaving his book, and went to look for them.

They were not in any of the usual nooks and crannies of the shop that they often frequented, nor were they sitting on the steps in front of his flat (to this day, he still did not understand quite why they liked it there), so he decided to try around the back of the building. And sure enough, he found them there. They were sitting close together, heads touching, Atsuya's hands cupping her face, Emiri's hands clutching at his jacket. Kissing.

Staying around the corner, Izayoi watched them. This was not a first kiss, he could somehow tell, but from the light blush he could just about discern from this distance on Emiri's cheeks and the careful way they both held each other, kissing was something new to them. We were a similar age, when we were like that, right? It troubled him a little that as the years went by, he could no longer remember the precise time periods of these things from his life, but as he eased away to give his two young apprentices privacy, something warm bloomed in his chest.

Entering the shop again, he bee-lined straight to one of his display cabinets, and focused on the middle shelf. The ring, displayed in a box that his jeweller work contact had gifted him, still looked as shiny and as new as when he had made it. Or rather, as shiny and as new as the day he had last worked on it. The setting where a diamond would go had never been filled, and from the years of having made more engagement and wedding rings for customers, he saw more areas in which this ring had been incomplete. For all this time, it had not mattered. The person who was supposed to get it hadn't. He could have had it buried with her, but it had made no sense to him to do that-there was no use in that, a proposal that she couldn't hear. And so he had kept it as it was, destined never to grace a finger.

But now, he went back to his office to get the key for the cabinet, and then came back and unlocked it. He could easily imagine it on Emiri's finger, carefully put on there for the first time by Atsuya. He had faith that what they had was strong, and true. And he knew that he, Makoto and everyone else had been part of the efforts to make sure that the world would never go back to the despair-infected wasteland it had been. Tragedy, capitalised or otherwise, would not interfere with the happiness of these two. And though he was resigned to the fact that he would never love the way he had loved Ruruka ever again, he could not help being glad to know that someone else had found their own love like that. So when the time came, when they had long gone past the stage of kisses being a new concept, when they were ready for marriage, he would pass this onto them. Holding the box, studying the ring closely, he felt confident in this. This is the right thing to do. The thing that I can do for them.

He smiled at the thought as he rearranged the other items on the shelf to hide the gap that taking the ring out had caused, then locked the cabinet, and returned to his office. He put away the key where it belonged, then closed the ring box and tucked it in a drawer, scribbling a note about working on it and contacting the jeweller in his diary while he was at it. As he went back to his book and picked up where he had left off, he found himself hoping that when Atsuya and Emiri did grow up and get married, he would at least be around to attend the wedding.

…

Somehow, in the years after Ruruka, he had managed to have a decent life. One with what even he couldn't deny was true happiness. But even so, when the doctor gravely informed him that the cancer he'd contracted was indeed terminal, he could not help but feel relieved. He had lived on this earth for far, far too long without her. The things he had gained still did not ease the hardship of not having her. He still had to live with the guilt of not having been able to protect her, like he had sworn to. So he was relieved to know it.

Still, as he stood in the graveyard, he found that something was constricting inside of him. Sakakura would be pissed off at him, he knew this. And the others he had survived with would no doubt be upset themselves. Then, of course, the apprentices he took so much pride in. Emiri, Atsuya…There were things that it would be sad to leave behind now. But still….Again, it was relief that prevailed as he thought about it.

"Ruruka. I'll be joining you soon. Wait for me, okay? I'll be there soon."

…

As predicted, Sakakura was pissed off. More than that, actually. He was furious. He refused to believe it at first, talked about incompetent doctors and mistaken diagnoses and the need for second opinions. He talked about looking up complementary treatments, different therapies, everything and anything that would mean that what he was hearing wasn't true. When Izayoi quietly refuted every point, he railed generally about how unfair it was, and eventually punched a wall, leaving a crack in it.

"Oi, Izayoi….how is it that you're so calm about this?" Sakakura muttered eventually, still staring at the crack in the wall.

"Because I'm glad."

"How the hell can you be glad about this? You're going to die! You seriously want to die?"

"I've lived for too long now. It's making me weary."

"You're two years younger than me, you don't get to say things like that." Sakakura retorted, half turning to him. Izayoi conjured up a smile, but it quickly faded.

"It's still true, no matter my age." He murmured. "In any case…why did you knock on my door that day, Sakakura?"

"Huh?"

"Back then, after the funerals were over. Why?"

"I told you this. I wanted to learn how to handle weaponry. As a blacksmith, you knew how to do that. Makes sense, right?"

Izayoi just stared Sakakura down, and eventually he got uncomfortable, fidgeting and averting his gaze, before he put a hand on his t-shirt, over the area that still had prominent scars.

"I didn't know what else to do." Sakakura burst out. Izayoi waited for him to elaborate, and he did.

"I could feel it, when you carried me through the Future Foundation, to safety. You were powering down to die, because of Andou. You were crying and trying to hide it, but I felt it. But you carried on regardless, didn't you? Not that we had any choice over moving on-it was do and die, right? But yeah, that. It is not like I couldn't understand that. And I needed to find my own hope, too. Munakata took mine away with him, you know. I needed to find my hope after that."

"Did you ever really believe in those absolutes? Pure hope, pure despair? Don't you think it was more an ideology that guided people, much like the religious extremists of the past, rather than an actual entity, or disease?" Izayoi wondered.

Sakakura looked at him as if he had grown two heads-fair enough, because he himself was not entirely sure of what he had said, or why. Then he turned away, ignoring the question, powering on with his own answer as he stared at the wall.

"Anyway, it was fairly clear that you needed a new hope as well. You were all about Andou, and now she was gone, you needed something to keep you going. Kinda like how I had to figure everything out from scratch again. But you didn't seem to want to go looking. And…..well, not sure if I was right or not, but that just…..you helped to save my life, though you had no reason to."

"….so you decided to save mine, in return." Izayoi concluded.

"You were seriously about to do it that day, weren't you? I saw all those boxes, packed up, like you were planning to leave. I still….fucking hell, I remember that. Hell." Sakakura muttered something else under his breath.

"I'd wondered, if you'd noticed. That first time, I just figured I'd try again the next day. But then you came back again and again."

"You still looked half-dead when I left you. Obviously I'd come back. I didn't want the game to claim another victim after the fact."

At that, there was a loaded silence. For the game had indeed claimed another victim afterwards. There was no way either of them could forget that. Then, Sakakura shrugged violently.

"Whatever. It worked, didn't it? You didn't off yourself, those boxes got unpacked-until you moved here, anyway. Still, same result. And I learnt new ways of defending myself, and we had a bit of a riot together all these years, didn't we?"

"Yeah. You've been a good friend."

"Tch. Friend? No, you're just the one I hate the least, of everyone left. That's all."

Izayoi laughed at this, and after a moment, Sakakura did too, shaking his head in amazement.

"Whatever. I can't believe it. That now, after all this time, you'd just be willing to succumb, let fate defeat you. I thought you'd gotten over things. I thought we all had."

"I met Ruruka when I was about three years old." Izayoi said by way of reply, wistful.

"Huh? What are you on about?"

"Maybe four years old. Along those lines. Nothing special about how we met. Just one day we didn't know each other, the next day we were playmates and good friends. She wasn't completely independent in making sweets, but she still had plenty to give me. In any case, it was an ordinary friendship, until one day, we were playing something or other, in my garden, and it was clear and sunny and warm, and I said something to her that made her giggle and her smile….it was so, so bright, the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. And looking at that smile I just somehow knew that that was it. The rest of my life, everything that I could ever want and need. She was it."

"….I have no idea what you're on about, exactly, but you just sounded like a goddamn fridge magnet."

"Well, as a three or four year old child, I wouldn't have known to word it like that." Izayoi conceded with a heavy shrug.

"But that was what I felt. And then about a year later, the stuff with her parents happened and left her so scared and alone and I took on the role of protecting her from anything like that ever happening again and…yeah. It cemented that. "And in the end, I failed in that.

"Less fridge magnet, but still confusing. But, well…." Sakakura tore his gaze away from the crack in the wall and locked eyes with Izayoi.

"Well then. You really loved her, huh? I guess that was bleedingly obvious, otherwise there would have been no reason for me to think you wanted to off yourself in the first place, or even anything I'd thought about you. But…..this still isn't fair, you know?"

"I know."

"And you're still fine with it?"

"I think you have the answer to that already."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Your kids are going to cry about this."

"I know. I'm going to tell them next, before any others."

"Good."

…

And of course, that prediction turned out to be right, too.

"But Sensei, I don't understand it." Emiri outright sobbed as they sat in his living room. Atsuya, next to her as always, gripped her hand tightly, and though he was more composed, his eyes were shiny and his breath hitched when he spoke.

"You….you've always been strong and healthy, haven't you? You've never been ill as far as we've seen."

"Sometimes these things just happen." Izayoi said. "No reason to it, they just happen. And that's okay?"

"But I don't understand that! How can you be okay with going like that? It's going to be painful."

"I'm going to accept treatment for the pain, as much as can be given. But really, asides from that….I'm ready to go, really. "

"I…..but….it's not like you're old or anything, Izayoi-sensei!" Atsuya protested.

"I know, but…." Izayoi hesitated. They were almost 26 now anyway, and to an extent, they knew about Ruruka, what she had been (and still was) to him, what had happened to her. But he was still not sure how honest to be about things. Part of him wanted to shield them from it, the world that they'd never had to experience. Eventually, he sighed, and spoke again.

"The years I've spent on this earth without Ruruka total more than the years that I had with her."

"Izayoi-sensei….." Atsuya bit his lip. Emiri wiped her eyes, which turned out to be a slightly pointless gesture, as more tears kept leaking.

"B-but, what about us? We're going to miss you-aren't you going to miss us?"

"That's a bad thing to say." Izayoi gentled his words with a smile, but all the same, Emiri put her hands to her mouth in horror, and more tears welled in her dark eyes.

"I didn't mean that you didn't….that, it's just….." One hand lowered, and she touched her prominent belly. "Will you get the chance to meet our child? If there's that, at least…."

"I've got between six months to two years, the doctor told me." He decided not to say that he was hoping it would be closer to six months. It was obvious, but also unnecessarily cruel.

"Oh, did we tell you? We found out what we're having!" Atsuya piped up, clearly trying so hard to inject cheer into the sad situation. Izayoi was touched, and for a moment flashed back to the extraordinarily affectionate child Atsuya had been. So many, many years.

"Well?"

"A little girl. We're still not decided on a name, but it narrows down things a lot, knowing that." For the first time since he'd broken the news, Emiri smiled.

"Speaking of which, Izayoi-sensei, what's your favourite girl's name?" she inquired.

"Ruruka."

"Sensei!" Atsuya protested, laughing. "Em meant that as in your favourite name for a girl, not the name of your favourite girl."

"Ah, I see, I see. Sorry about that."

"So then? What is it?"

"Ruruka."

Atsuya and Emiri laughed at this, but then they exchanged looks, communicating something in a silent language that had been created for the two of them. He'd had something like that, once, but of course he'd had no-one to communicate in it with for far too long. But he didn't begrudge them this. If he could give that to anyone else, it would always be them.

"A…are you sure about that, Izayoi-sensei?" Emiri asked, her voice little more than a whisper. "Is that really okay?"

"It's fine. I'd quite like that, actually." He wasn't sure why, but the idea did make him warm on the inside. See this, Ruruka. The world really does know, how much you were loved, even now. And the relief on their faces was worth it too.

"Well, that's fine then. Ruruka Itou. That's a fine name, isn't it, Atsuya?"

"Yeah. For short, we could call her Ruka or something. I think that's pretty cute too."

"It is, it is. Still…this still isn't fair, Sensei. This isn't fair. Was your life all this time really that bad that you're so eager to leave? I…I mean…."

Izayoi shook his head.

"It was a good day for me, that day when you were nine years old and decided to hide in the shop. "

"But…..but….."

"Em. I think we should leave it. I don't want this to happen, but I think I get it." Atsuya put an arm around Emiri, and pulled her close. "If something had happened to you, Em, and especially in those circumstances, who knows what I would do? I guess it's kinda lucky that Izayoi-sensei lived this long, so he could be Izayoi-sensei to us…

"So I think I can understand it…but…" Atsuya turned back to face Izayoi for a moment, and his eyes were wild and wet. "But sensei, we're not ready for this yet! You're ready to leave the world, but we're not ready to have you leave it! There's still so much of our lives that…that…"

Atsuya broke off at that, unable to hold back any longer, and buried his face in Emiri's shoulder, muffling loud sobs. Emiri shifted her weight carefully, so that she could put her arms around him, one hand stroking the hair that had never really been able to be neatened, no matter what anyone did to it. They seemed to forget for a moment, that they were in his living room. Well, of course. Feeling so old for a moment (no matter Sakakura's objections, he was too old for this), he just watched them, thinking about the years that had gone by, from the moment he had met them, to their graduations from elementary, middle and high school, to their coming-of-age and their marriage, right up until this moment. Telling them that meeting them had been a good day for him was the truth, too. He was so glad he had met them, and been a part of their lives up until now.

But it's time for me to go back. I'm way overdue for that. I need to find her again.

So carefully and slowly, again feeling impossibly old as he did so, he got up from his sofa and went to theirs, and knelt in front of it, before putting a hand on Atsuya's back and Emiri's shoulder and waiting for the storm to pass.

…

While he was still mobile, he focused on practicalities. Making sure Atsuya and Emiri knew the ropes when it came to the business side of things, so that they could step in almost as soon as he was gone. Contacting customers and business contacts to inform them of the situation and to make sure they knew who they would be dealing with in the future. Finishing off any orders that were still outstanding, that he could still do. Togami sent a lawyer, to help him with his will and other legalities, and Makoto came by one day to ask him about funeral arrangements ("you'll want to be buried next to Andou-san, right?" He asked almost immediately, making Izayoi forever grateful to him.)

Then there was the business of packing away his things and assigning them to whoever he thought should have them. He had, somewhat obviously, accumulated a lot of things over all these years, and it took a lot of organisation. Rather rapidly, the rooms of his flat became piled up with boxes upon boxes, looking so much like the last time he had decided to die. Sakakura, when he saw the boxes, ended up leaving yet another crack and dent in his wall. But neither of them mentioned it, and when it came down to things, helping Izayoi with the practicalities seemed to soothe some of Sakakura's own troubles over the whole thing. Though poor Atsuya did have to make sure that he didn't harass medical professionals. Still, no matter how Sakakura chose to dress it up, they were friends now, and that in itself was help enough.

He was also still mobile when Atsuya and Emiri's daughter was born, and was one of the first people to see her. As promised, they named her Ruruka and addressed her as Ruka. Part of him felt a pang the first time he held her, again imagining non-existent children with sandy hair and blue eyes, but those feelings disappeared quickly enough, and he found himself feeling a sort of pride when looking at her. Ruka was a tiny child (impossibly tiny, to him) who had inherited Atsuya's eyes, and she was round and a little wrinkly in the way of most very young babies, but as the months went by, gradually he could see the beginnings of the pretty girl that she would most likely grow up to be. And so, he wished her the best in life-love, delicious sweets, and a happier ending than he'd had.

As Izayoi became weaker, all of a sudden he kept receiving food from people. From the connections he had made in the Future Foundation (usually it was Aoi, Komaru or Mitarai who came around with meals), from former and regular customers, even other well-wishers who had somehow heard of him. Naturally, he could not eat all of it (and though he still indulged Emiri when it came to any home-made sweet treats, the rest he did not even look at), and so it often got passed onto other people-particularly Atsuya and Emiri, given that they were busy both with Ruka and preparing to take over the shop. In any case, the doctor himself had warned of a loss of taste and appetite, not knowing that Izayoi had mostly lost the former years before. There were flowers, too, flowers and condolence cards, that kept coming and balanced on his boxes when any other place became too full. When he became bedridden, Sakakura (despite his issues) insisted that he at least get a nurse to help him with administering painkillers, and with things such as cleaning and changing. Of course, he had been planning to anyway, and so he did. To his surprise, the nurse turned out to be Atsuya's aunt, Mikako. Atsuya refused to say whether he had pulled any strings to make this so, but she was perfectly happy to take on the job ("You did so much for my nephew when he was a boy, it's the least I can do now. Also, I'm a nurse anyway. You won't be the first or last complicated patient I have."). She was patient, but also very no-nonsense, and so he was perfectly happy with this, too.

And as his days became a mixture of half-waking, half-dreaming moments, in-between the dreams of his memories of Ruruka and the half-alert conversations he could still hold, he found himself looking around at all of these people and details. And it occurred to him that just as he had tried to show the world that Ruruka had been loved, it was now trying to show him how much he was loved, too. And he was glad, because despite everything, it was always good to know that his own life had had some meaning.

…

Izayoi's last day was much like most of his other days leading up to it had been. In the morning, Mikako arrived, helped him wash himself, checked his bedding was comfortable and that he wasn't in too much pain before adjusting morphine levels. Seeming to detect that he wanted to hold Ruruka's hat before he could even voice the desire, she fished it out of the bedside drawer and pressed it into his hands with a sorrowful smile. She also tried to encourage him to eat something, but he hadn't the appetite for it, so she didn't push it, and instead went to put his old clothes in the wash. When Atsuya arrived to open up the shop, he poked his head in for a moment to say hello.
Sakakura arrived a little later and sat at his bedside a while, talking of nothing in particular. Half asleep, Izayoi forgot most of what had been said soon after it had been said, but he felt a sense of enjoyment from it all the same.

For the rest of the morning, he drifted hazily in and out of sleep, his dreams dominated by recollections of things Ruruka had said to him in the past. When he was awake enough, he unsteadily ploughed through pages of a manga that Mitarai had recommended and brought over. Mikako was able to persuade him to have some soup around lunchtime, and then he napped dreamlessly for a while until Emiri came over to take over the shop, and Atsuya came up with Ruka to keep him company. He had brought a new paper cutting-a tap dancing cat, complete with top hat and coat-tails- and as the room was clearer (Makoto and Yuta had come by the day before, and cleared most of the flowers to take to the graveyard), he was able to set it down without too much trouble. Then, making sure she couldn't disturb any tubes or the like, Atsuya helped Izayoi sit up so that Ruka could sit on his lap.

Now 8 months old, Ruka seemed used to him, and gurgled delightedly when she caught his eye, and he was able to muster up some energy to pull faces and tickle her to make her even happier. When he was only able to watch her, Ruka seemed content to just play with the buttons of his pyjamas, and did poke at the hat clenched in his hand, but didn't thankfully didn't attempt to pull at it. Atsuya, for his part, stayed in the corner, half concentrating on the crossword puzzle he had brought with him, half keeping an eye on them and occasionally interjecting with comments (though Izayoi could not fully tell if they were aimed at Ruka or at him). The peace lasted a while until Ruka started fussing, at which point he came over and picked her up again, walking up and down the room and humming until she quietened and fell asleep. Then, he carefully put her into the baby carrier, and tucked her blanket around her, before setting the carrier near to Izayoi's bed, so that he could see her, before retreating to where he had been sitting again and resuming his puzzle.

At that point, Izayoi slipped nearer to sleep again, and began to dream of the last time he had seen Ruruka alive.

"It's almost…the time limit. I don't want to….I don't want this…."

"It'll be fine. The attacker won't come" He soothed, absently running his fingers through her hair as his eyes began to close. He felt her grip at his jacket tightly, an attempt to keep herself anchored to the waking world.

"But…what if….Yoi-Chan….." Ruruka fidgeted a bit, and the next part of her question was mumbled into his chest, but he could understand it. And though he refused to entertain the thought, a small fear sparked, just for a moment.

"Nothing will happen to me." Izayoi fought against his own sleepiness, trying to sound sure. He didn't want her to be more scared than she already was.

"I won't….let that happen. But even if….we do end up…..separated, it's okay. Because….I'll come and find you straight away."

After that, he couldn't fight it any longer, and let sleep take him.

Remembering, a tear he couldn't brush away escaped, and he held onto the hat tighter. He'd had no idea that the things he'd reassured her couldn't be possible turned out to be possible. In the end, he hadn't been able to keep his promises, and they'd both suffered so badly. But now, there was a chance to fix it. He could feel it.

"Don't go anywhere, Ruruka. " He quietly rasped. "I'm coming to find you now, it's okay."

"Hmm, what was that, sensei?" Atsuya asked idly, looking up from his puzzle in curiosity. "Did you need something?"

But Izayoi didn't hear him, for he had already gone.