Thanks for reading! The chapter deals with the aftermath of what happened last chapter, and contains some mentions of violence as well, so please be forewarned.
"Attention!" bellows Mado. The music shuts off, and the lights all snap back on. The disco ball keeps whirling, covering Mado's face with pink and yellow.
Urie looks up from his phone, where he's texted Mutsuki five times. Answer, damn you!
"You are all to go back to your dorms immediately! RAs, I want you to collect all of your students and march them there in a straight line. No lingering. Starting by the boys' locker room door with Dorm Block 1 RAs. Dorm Block 2, you go to their right. And so on. You better be organized in five minutes!"
"What the hell?" yelps Shirazu. "Is this normal?"
"I don't think so," whispers Hsiao. "Something's happened." She clutches Saiko's bare shoulders. "Where's Aura?"
Urie's heart pounds. Mutsuki? He makes his way through the teeming crowd towards where Akira, Amon, and Seidou stand. "What happened?" he demands.
"Where's Kanae?" cries Tsukiyama.
"Where's Mutsuki?" Urie shouts back.
"Shinohara checked on them. Both came back early due to illness," Seidou snaps.
"But what happened, Seidou?" prompts Juuzou, giggling as he grips his RA's elbow. Seidou flinches.
"Seriously," adds Kurona. "This isn't normal."
"They found an unauthorized guest on campus," says Amon. Akira focuses on her girls, refusing to look at Amon. "He was beaten with a rock and had one of his eyes gouged out. Ambulances are taking him away."
"What?" snarls Touka. Everyone, including Urie, turns to look at Kaneki. Hide scowls.
"There's no reason to think it's connected to that incident," Amon insists. "The guest has been on campus before. He's that artist friend of Eto's."
Saeki? Urie could almost laugh, if it wasn't so sickening.
"They think a student did it, don't they?" asks Kurona.
"Probably," Seidou confirms.
"Great; we're going to school with murderers," mumbles Shirazu.
"Didn't you already know that?" Saiko asks, rolling her eyes.
"Dorm Block 1!" howls Mado into a microphone. "Leave! Dorm Block Six! Dorm Block Eleven! Dorm Block Sixteen!"
They're among the last to leave. Akira leads the way, her jaw set. Urie taps at his phone. Did you hear what happened?
No response.
Nishiki wraps his arm around Kimi as they head back to the dorm, not in a line as Mado wanted, although they do all clump together. Hinami gasps when they see flashing lights and their normal pathway is cordoned off.
Touka holds Kaneki's hand, and he doesn't even protest as he cracks his finger. "Tell Mutsuki I hope he feels better."
Urie nods as they enter, Shinohara checking them all off. He then locks the door. Wow. It's that serious.
"Do they know if he'll make it?" Urie hears Seidou ask.
"Questionable," Shinohara admits.
Yikes. Urie feels sick as he climbs the stairs. He can hear the shower running. Mutsuki's not in their room, but his phone rests on his pillow.
He's in the shower, Urie tells himself. And he had nothing to do with it. Mutsuki's too kind. To do something like that—Saeki's thin, but Mutsuki's even smaller. He couldn't do that.
"Dear God," says Shirazu, rubbing his eyes. "What a crazy end to the night."
It's not over yet. Urie peers out the darkened window. He can't see anything even on a good day. Urie drops down at his desk and takes out his paints. There's no point. He can't concentrate.
Mutsuki, are you okay?
Ten minutes pass. Urie drums his paintbrush against his desk.
Fifteen, and Shirazu asks him to stop drumming and hums a song from the dance, which makes Urie tell him to stop.
Twenty-three, and Mutsuki emerges from the shower, his hair damp and sticking out from his head in cute spikes. Urie leaps to his feet. He's okay. He's okay. "Did you hear?"
Mutsuki nods, dumping his shower basin on the shelf under his bed. "Shinohara told me and Kanae."
"I bet it was Kanae," Shirazu comments, tossing a baseball at the ceiling. "The boy's crazy."
"That's going to hit you in the face," Urie snaps. "And Mutsuki and I won't feel sorry for you."
Mutsuki raises his eyebrows.
"You weren't feeling well?" Urie asks.
Mutsuki shakes his head, wrapping his arms over his stomach. "Must have eaten something weird."
More period stuff? Damn, these things are frequent. Urie wonders how anyone does it.
"I must have just missed them," adds Mutsuki, combing his hair with his fingers. "It's scary."
"Well, I'm glad you didn't stumble across it," Urie says. "That would have been terrifying."
"Oh, can I have my shirt back?" Shirazu asks. "I do like that one. Though it did look nice on you."
Mutsuki's shoulders slump. "I spilled punch on it. I can get it out in the wash, though—I'll do a load tomorrow."
"Punch, no you can't," says Shirazu, propping himself up on his elbow. "But it's okay."
"You texted me a half a dozen times?" asks Mutsuki, gaping at his phone.
"We were worried," retorts Urie. "You would be too, if your friend just up and vanished. You and Aura both vanished."
"I just came back here. I didn't see Aura."
Urie frowns. I didn't think you did?
"He said the dance was stupid and he was going back to his dorm to mope," reports Shirazu. "Well, not in those words. Stupid he did say though."
Mutsuki snorts and climbs into bed. "G'night."
"Night," Urie echoes, switching off the light. He lies awake, though, regretting that he didn't take the chance to dance more with Mutsuki. You think Yoriko is so great, Takeomi? Mutsuki's amazing.
He wonders what his father would think of Mutsuki.
I hate you for dying.
No, I don't! Urie hates himself for thinking that.
Something sniffles, and it takes Urie a moment before he realizes Mutsuki's crying. Urie sits up in bed, the mattress creaking. The sniffling stops. Urie lies back down, waiting until he hears Mutsuki's breaths even out.
You didn't.
He hates blood, Urie remembers. He couldn't have stomached it. Maybe this crying has to do with periods. Urie climbs out of bed and digs out a chocolate bar, leaving it on Mutsuki's pillow.
When he wakes up the next morning, Mutsuki mutters his thanks and sticks it in his pocket for later.
"You're not going anywhere," Seidou greets them as they leave their room for breakfast. "We're getting breakfast delivered down in the lounge. We're on lockdown for the rest of the weekend."
"For real?" complains Shirazu.
"Whoever did this is dangerous, Ginshi!" barks Seidou. "We take no chances!"
Shirazu pretends to salute Seidou when he turns away. Urie snickers and Mutsuki crosses his arms.
"Geez, Mutsuki," comments Shirazu. "I am so sorry!"
"Huh?" Mutsuki whirls around.
Shirazu points to the purple bruises on Mutsuki's wrist. "That's from when you fell and I almost pulled your arm out of your socket, right?"
"Your noble attempt to keep me from falling," Mutsuki comments dryly. "Must be." He rubs his wrist.
"Dancing's dangerous business itself," Shirazu remarks as they head down to breakfast, where they find that instead of having cafeteria food delivered, Shinohara and his wife decided to make them all pancakes and eggs.
"Wow," Saiko squeals as she appears still clad in her pajamas and slippers, blue hair wild and unbrushed. "This almost makes getting up worth it!"
"Glad to hear it," says Shinohara, passing her a plate. She drops onto the carpet next to Urie. Juuzou hums as he helps Shinohara and his wife. Urie cringes. Hopefully Juuzou isn't poisoning them all. At any rate, the pancakes aren't half bad. Urie slathers his in butter.
Shinohara's phone rings, and he asks Juuzou to keep at it while he answers. "Well, it was a good run," remarks Shirazu.
"Huh?" asks Saiko.
"The place is about to go up in flames," Urie finishes, watching Seidou's eyes bulge in fear as Juuzou takes over the griddle.
"You're wrong," says Mutsuki. "Juuzou's not a bad person."
Is this just because he defended you to Saeki? And saved us in the chemistry lab?
Okay, maybe he's not so bad. Urie stabs at his pancake, stuffing an overly large piece into his mouth. He's not mourning Saeki. Asshole.
Shinohara hangs up and marches across the room, opening the door to reveal Matsumae and Mado. Odd pairing.
"Oh God," says Shirazu. "Are we gonna have to run laps?"
Saiko gulps her coffee. "I refuse."
Matsumae ignores them and heads over to the large couch, where Tsukiyama and Kanae sit. She taps Kanae on the shoulder. Mado waves at his daughter and then focuses on Kanae.
"What?" Kanae cries out, leaping to his feet. "Why?"
The room goes silent. Urie drops his fork.
"Kanae, they just want to ask you some questions," says Matsumae, her voice calming, like warm tea. Except Kanae's eyes still shine, and he glances around the room in desperation.
"But I told you last night," says Kanae. "I left because I wasn't feeling well, and then I was here until Shinohara knocked on my door and told me and Mutsuki what happened."
"We have a teacher who says she saw you leaving the dance at a half hour past seven," says Mado. "Shinohara says you got back at nine. What were you doing all that time?"
Kanae shakes his head. "I don't—nothing! Nothing wrong!"
"You have to come with us," says Matsumae. "It's just down to the security office. Shinohara and I will be with you the entire time."
"I shouldn't have to! You can't possibly believe I attacked that man!" Kanae's jaw drops as his gaze skitters around the room, as if suddenly realizing that everyone can, in fact, believe it.
"Would you rather I called for the police to drag you downtown to the station to answer their questions?" asks Mado. "Because that's an option."
Kanae's voice cracks. "I didn't do it!" He turns around to look at Tsukiyama, whose jaw hangs open. Kaneki and Touka peer up, their gazes troubled. Kanae's lip trembles.
"I know you didn't," Tsukiyama says, and Kanae drops his head, actually crying. Tsukiyama jumps to his feet, grabbing Kanae's shoulder.
"Shuu—" starts Matsumae.
"No! This is ridiculous!" Tsukiyama yells, pushing himself in front of Kanae. "What would be his motivation? We met him once, in class, and he said nothing to Kanae!"
"I don't have time to waste on the whys," Mado sneers.
"Kanae," says Amon, getting to his feet. "I think you should go. You don't want to make this worse."
"It's just questions," Matsumae insists. "There's no evidence. This could clear you, Kanae. But if we have to involve the police at this stage, it won't help you. It'll only hurt you."
"Fine!" snarls Kanae, turning and storming towards the stairs. "I'm getting my jacket!" he hollers at Mado.
"Follow him, Amon, and make sure he comes down and doesn't throw any evidence away," Mado orders.
"Sounds like they really do think it's Kanae," whispers Saiko.
"Well, it's not!" Tsukiyama bellows at her. He looks as if he'd like to tear Saiko apart.
"Leave her alone!" shouts Urie, leaping to his feet and glaring at the other boy, whose face contorts in a sneer.
"Shuu, calm down," Matsumae interjects. Her hand grasps Tsukiyama's shoulder, and he wilts. Kaneki and Touka both approach.
"Wow," breathes Shirazu as Kanae clomps back down the stairs, Amon behind him. The smell of smoke tickles Urie's nostrils as Matsumae and Shinohara escort Kanae outside.
"Oops!" Juuzou turns off the griddle, scraping a blackened lump of former-pancake off.
"I'll handle it!" barks Seidou.
"I need to finish all that history homework," says Mutsuki, getting to his feet. He drops his plate in the sink and heads off. Urie glares at the leftover pancake on his own plate. He wishes his appetite were gone so he could follow. He shovels the food into his mouth. Whether it's the smoke or Kanae, it now tastes like ash.
"Is that Mutsuki's phone?" asks Saiko, pointing.
It is. Urie grabs it. "I'll give it to him."
A text lights up the screen. Aura.
Just reminding you again that, as I said, I didn't see anything, but did anyone ask you questions yet? Higemaru says they'll talk to all 16 students who weren't in their dorms later today.
The pancakes turn from ash to glue. Urie stuffs the phone in his pocket and leans forward, trying not to choke.
He hates blood.
He's nice.
He would never have assaulted Saeki. I know him!
Urie gets to his feet.
"Are you okay?" asks Saiko.
He ignores her and heads to the stairwell, leaving his plate. Terror gnaws at him from the inside. Mutsuki—
He bursts into their floor to find Mutsuki taking a shower. Again?
Urie curses and storms back into the stairwell. Why? He checks the phone again. You and Aura? Or just you?
He lets out a yell and slams his fist into the wall.
"Urie?" Kaneki and Touka gape up at him.
"I'll let you deal with this," says Touka, slipping into her floor. Kaneki looks pale.
"Leave it alone," Urie grinds out. Don't you dare look at me like I'm some pitiable—
"What's going on?" asks Kaneki.
Go away! Urie wants to clamp his hands over his ears. The bruises—the message—a stained shirt, yeah right—
"Urie," says Kaneki, and he's pushing Urie into his floor. The shower still runs. "What's going on?"
"None of your business!" Urie erupts. He glares at Kaneki. I hate you! "You just have to be a hero, don't you? You just worm your way into everyone's life, making them think you're a hero because you act like you care, and you're just—you're nothing—"
"And why are you lashing out at Kaneki unless you also care?" shouts Shirazu as he and Saiko appear in the doorway.
Shit. "You're not allowed on this floor, Saiko," Urie chokes out.
"You're being an ass," says Shirazu. "Seidou's busy chastising Juuzou. I'm telling you that you're being an ass, Urie, because I care about you, okay? So don't make it about me being mean to you."
"Damn," whispers Saiko, rubbing her hand over her face. "What the hell?"
Urie glowers at Kaneki. His heart pounds. Sweat shines on Kaneki's face. "Is this about Mutsuki?"
"Don't bring him into this!" Urie shouts.
"He's my friend! I care about him!"
"Like hell you do!"
"Stop it, Urie!" pleads Saiko.
"It's true!" Urie shouts. "All that I said—you—forgot about us, all of us, just because you were—" Who am I even talking to? Kaneki's face blurs with another, with a memory.
"Traumatized?" yells Saiko.
I'm talking to both of you—Kaneki, Dad. Both, both of you—don't I matter?
"Okay, okay, everyone shut up, just shut up!" screams Shirazu. "You!" He jabs his finger at Urie. "What the hell did you find on Mutsuki's phone? Because you looked like you'd seen a ghost after you picked it up."
"It's none of your business!" Urie snaps. His heart pounds. Mutsuki—
"Yes, it is!" cries Saiko. "Don't you get it, Urie? We're all—we're all we have. We're friends, and here, we're like family. Hsiao already texted me about Aura being in a panic in the dorm last night, so I know, okay?"
"They attacked that man?" whispers Kaneki, his hands over his face.
Urie gulps. Mutsuki… The shower continues on. "Aura's text implies he just—saw it."
"So, Mutsuki then," Saiko says, squeezing her eyes shut.
"He hates blood!" Urie protests.
"Well," says Shirazu as he marches for their room's door and yanks it open. "He did say my shirt was stained, right? We can check for punch, or—"
"We're not going through his stuff!"
"So you don't actually care about Mutsuki?" Shirazu demands. "Because if you do, Urie, and yes, I know you love him, you should want to help him. Ignoring shit never helped anyone."
I love Mutsuki.
Because he made me feel less alone.
Did I ever make you feel less alone? Or are you still lost? Urie clamps his hand over his mouth.
"Sorry," whispers Kaneki. "I—care about Mutsuki too. Can I—I want to—"
"Help?" Urie rolls his eyes. "Figures."
"Urie," says Saiko from where she's crouched on the floor.
"Shit," says Shirazu.
"I don't want to—" Urie shuts his mouth. Saiko pulls a green shirt out from under the bed. It's been torn. Grass stains, mud smears, cover the back.
But there's no blood.
And then Saiko pulls out the pants Mutsuki wore last night, and there's the blood. And a zipper hanging off.
Kaneki looks as if he's about to be sick.
"Put it back," Urie orders. "We should—talk to him first."
"He's taking a shower?" questions Saiko.
Urie nods, shutting their door so Seidou won't notice they have a girl plus crime scene evidence inside.
"Did he attack Saeki or the other way around?" asks Shirazu.
Urie drops onto his bed, burying his face in his hands as he remembers the way Saeki ogled Mutsuki in art class. Mutsuki… He thinks of Matsuri and his flirtations. A chill shudders through him.
Mutsuki swings the door open, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair sopping. He stops short. "Saiko?"
"Shh," hisses Shirazu. "We can't have Seidou hearing."
Mutsuki slams the door shut, running a towel over his hair. Even with the baggy clothes he wears, Urie can see how thin he is. You'd be no match for Saeki.
But then how could you have—
"Mutsuki," says Saiko as Kaneki draws in a deep breath. "We know."
Mutsuki freezes. The entire dorm feels like it's tilting, like any second Shirazu's books and photos of his sister should slide of the desk, the chocolate Urie keeps under his bed should tumble away, and Mutsuki should fall. But he's still standing.
"We're not turning you in," interjects Shirazu. "We just want to hear—what happened."
Mutsuki still can't move. Aura—
When Aura came across them last night, it was too late. Saeki had rolled off Mutsuki, whispering about how Mutsuki made him do it, how beautiful he was, how he should hurry back to his dorm, and when he turned away to pull his pants up, Mutsuki saw the rock and swung. Aura came along with Mutsuki was naked and clawing out an unconscious Saeki's eyes.
"We found my shirt," Shirazu adds.
Oh. So it wasn't Aura.
"Mutsuki." Saiko reaches out to him, and Mutsuki jerks his arm away.
"He hurt you, didn't he?" whispers Kaneki.
You know. And Urie—he can barely look at Urie, who studies his knees as if they're fascinating. More fascinating than Mutsuki.
"That's self-defense," says Shirazu.
No, it's not. Mutsuki's legs tremble. You all think I'm some kind of—some kind of—
"We don't blame you, Mutsuki," says Saiko.
"We want to help you," insists Kaneki.
How can you help me? Mutsuki wants to scream. He shakes his head, breaths coming quicker, frenetic, hurting his lungs. I gouged his eyes—he raped me—I killed the cat—I killed, I killed, I killed.
I am grotesque.
"Mutsuki."
He peers to his side to see Urie standing there, reaching for him. "Get away from me!"
Urie jumps back, face stung. He should explode now, because Mutsuki can't comfort him now—can't be any use to him—but he straightens, standing there, looking at Mutsuki like he understands, but of course he can't, not truly.
Please don't hate me. Mutsuki bursts into tears, and Urie wraps his arms around him, and Mutsuki isn't entirely sure he wants Urie holding him, but he also doesn't want to push him away. Because at least, even though it's a lie, Urie doesn't think he's grotesque.
Help me, he thinks as tears stream down his face and his chest shakes with sobs. Someone help me.
No one's ever listened before, but here, Saiko wraps her arms around him from behind, Shirazu too, and Kaneki puts his hand on Mutsuki's shoulder.
You can't help me.
But you want to.