At first, Satoru thinks that maybe he's out of his depth this time.

But then he reconsiders, he did, after all, chase down a serial killer through time. It was pretty betrayal heavy, tearing scars of mistrust in his mind and heart, to learn that someone he'd considered an ally could be capable of killing.

But this time?

Well this time, to learn that an ally was capable of killing just made him hurt. Because self-murder left just as many raw wounds in the hearts of the loved ones as plain murder might. The one thing, Satoru thinks, that he's thankful for, is that at least nobody else knows how much it hurts to lose somebody like this.

Now see, Satoru had experienced all sorts of loss. Some permanent, but usually the most painful ones there would be a way for him to fix, as it was with Hinazuki and his mother.

Having them back soothed the aching burn in his chest, healed it. But he recalled with vivid clarity just how much it hurt.

"Aren't you going to work?" Kenya asks, sitting at their kitchen table, thin fingers wrapped around a mug of black coffee to warm them.

"N-No," Satoru stutters, "I'm um, not well."

Kenya lifts an eyebrow at Satoru, a silent call out on his obvious lie.

"And I think-" Satoru is making up his ideas as he goes along, anything to keep Kenya in the house today, "You should too! You're not looking well."

"I don't?"

That one isn't a lie, not really. The smears of shadow under Kenya's eyes are suddenly so much darker now that Satoru knows it's just a bit more than insomnia.

"Yup!" Satoru nods, "Why don't we just stay in today? It's been a while since we've watched a film no?"

"There's nothing good playing at the moment," Kenya says before taking a sip of his coffee, "Besides, I can't just skip work."

"I really think you should," Satoru grins and it falters for a second under Kenya's eyes.

Each man is quiet and Satoru grows more nervous with each second, jumping when Kenya says, "Sit down, Satoru."

So he does, if it would convince Kenya to not go out today, to not go to the train station- Because that's where it happens.

"What happened?"

"Eh?" Satoru jerks, fingers digging into the denim on his knees.

"What happened?" Kenya repeats slowly, deliberately.

His fingers are running up and down the side of the mug, tapping his nails on it occasionally as he stares down Satoru.

"I- I don't know what you're talking about."

Truthfully, Satoru doesn't really know why he's feigning ignorance. Kenya knows something's wrong and Satoru is hardly subtle about his attempts to direct Kenya's routine.

"Satoru," Kenya says firmly and asking again, "What happened?"

So Satoru breathes slowly and readies himself, "You tell me," He answers.

Kenya doesn't look shocked, not surprised in the slightest and he sighs. Taking another sip of his drink, he stands up and rinses out the dregs.

"Figures," He sighs as he pours himself another cup, "You want one?"

"No thanks," Satoru never really liked coffee, it just wasn't for him, Kenya knew that full well.

After Kenya sits back down quietly, "You know, I'd kind of wondered whether your ability would still function in regards to me."

Satoru doesn't say anything as Kenya continues, his voice hitching, "I didn't think I'd be significant enough."

Again, Satoru doesn't say anything as Kenya keeps talking. As he rambles about his self-perceived unimportance Satoru can see Kenya's shoulders slouch in defeat, notices how his voice is getting pitchier and raspier, see's his eyes reddening, even if he doesn't cry.

Because Kenya doesn't cry, not ever.

(That doesn't mean he's not about to)

Kenya keeps talking and at some point Satoru believes that his friend is tuning himself out of the situation, taking himself away somewhere safe in his head. But his fingers clasp that cup of coffee like it's the only thing keeping him sane as he finally slumps and touches his forehead to the table.

"I don't know what to do," Kenya's voice is muffled, "I can't even die, because you'll just bring me back."

"I'll help you," Satoru promises, "We'll get you help."

Kenya is silent because it's not help he wants, but Satoru won't let him have the alternative.

The burning ache is awful, but it's strange. It's the first time he's spoken to someone after Revival that knows they've been dead before, albeit in another time.

As much as Satoru sometimes wishes the power belonged to someone else, he has no issue with his ability to protect those close to him, even if it's from themselves. Because Satoru will always, always, bring Kenya back.