He was immersed in memories.

Scenes flashed through Kuro's mind like a dream sequence, cutting from one to the next so quickly and abruptly he could barely follow them all. All he saw were faces. Faces of all the people who had become shadows of his past, all the people whose faces and voices he had suppressed for so long until they came back with a roaring vengeance.

"Are you sure we can take care of this child?"

"Well, I don't really want another mouth to feed, but you know, I'm his closest relative aside from his parents. Someone has to do the job, I suppose."

"Of course you're welcome here, dear. Why shouldn't you be?"

"I don't know what to do with this child anymore. I don't understand him."

"Don't worry. We'll be different from all the others. We're planning on keeping you, see?"

"Why do you always keep on getting in trouble? Don't you understand how that makes us feel?"

"I've had it with this child. It's too much for me. Someone else take him. Either he gets to leave, or I will."

"Come on now, no need to be so distrusting. I know you've been with bad people, but no one here will hurt you."

"Will you ever do anything around the house? All you ever do is sit up in your room and do nothing! You live here too, don't you?"

"You don't need help. Just stop moping and pull yourself together!"

"Go outside! Make some friends! Everyone your age has friends! The neighbors are asking me about you already!"

"You don't need help."

"What are you so depressed for? You have everything you need! In other countries children are starving and–"

"You don't need help."

"And what about your grades! Your future! Do you ever stop and think about that? Do you want to end up flipping burgers somewhere?"

"You don't need help."

"At least show some gratitude! We've been slaving away to provide for you and what do you give us back?"

"You don't need help."

"You don't need help."

"You don't need help."

I don't need help.

Kuro opened his eyes.

He wasn't sure how or when he had managed to find his way onto the bed, let alone under the covers. He wasn't sure if he had slept at all, either. Sometime between his conversation with Mahiru and right now time had slid from his grip, and he had been swallowed whole by something, what, he wasn't sure. The night felt too short for him not to have slept, but whatever dream-like state he had been in just now hadn't felt like sleep at all. It had been more of a trance, as though someone had hit the off switch on his body and only his brain had kept on running and running and playing its own little show at lightning speed. He half remembered shaking at some point. When, he didn't know. He wasn't entirely sure if he had stopped, either. His body felt too numb and foreign to tell for sure.

Could he move now? He tried to lift his hand, but it wouldn't budge. His body was refusing to listen to him again. It was like he had been transformed into a statue of lead, too dull and tired and heavy to move.

He should probably worry about that. But he didn't care. He didn't care about anything. He was just tired. Drained. Completely hollow, inside and out.

He didn't want to worry about anything right now. He wanted to sleep. Just close his eyes and forget the world and pass out for a week, or a month, or maybe a year. However long it took for this stupid gang war to end and himself to forget about all this pain.

You coward, the voice in his head said from a distance. And what about protecting Mahiru? You can't even keep your own friend safe because you'd rather hide from everything and sleep?

Kuro should probably feel guilty about that. Some part of him did. The rest of him would spiral into a panicked high from this later, he supposed. But right now he felt numb. The voice wasn't loud enough to truly be a bother. And it wasn't like he could do anything as long as he couldn't move his body, anyway.

But he was fine. He didn't need help. Only weak people needed help. If he asked for help, he'd be weak too. Weaker than he already felt. All those people were right; he simply needed to pull himself together like everyone else did, and if he failed at that, he was a failure who wasn't worthy of help anyway. He just wasn't trying hard enough. The whole mindset that he couldn't do it was all useless melodrama.

Yeah. That was it. The immovable body? He just needed to try harder to move it. It wasn't like he was physically exhausted or anything, so this was all up in his head. That meant if he changed his mindset, he could change his whole situation.

What was he so down about, anyway? He was in a good place right now. Better than he had ever expected to be. He had friends now. He'd had the best summer of his life. He had found people he was welcome with, so why couldn't he just be happy? This was stupid. He should be happy. He should be–

He couldn't be happy.

He couldn't move his body either, no matter how hard he tried.

He still felt heavy, so heavy. Like all his good feelings and energy had been pulled down a drain and disappeared, leaving nothing but dull gray twilight and pitch-blackness behind. Again. Except this kind of thing usually announced himself over a few days and didn't just attack him out of nowhere.

So tired.

Why was he like this?

Why was he reacting like this?

Why couldn't he just get up and deal with things like a normal person?

What was wrong with him that was right with everyone else?

He should probably be panicking about these questions too, but right now he didn't. Right now they were simply there, circling slowly in his mind, slowly creeping into his body and limbs and suffocating him from the inside. He let them. He let it happen. It didn't matter to him. Nothing mattered. Yet everything mattered too much. This was stressful. Thinking was stressful. Living... was stressful.

Damn it, his chest felt tight.

Looked like he was one of the weak ones, after all.


Mahiru was woken up by the untimely buzz of his phone.

Shooting up straight on the bed, he blinked, looking from side to side in disorientation and trying to spot his phone. It was on the nightstand as always, and Mahiru lunged, grabbing it and yanking it from the charger before remembering yesterday's embarrassment and taking a look at the caller ID.

It wasn't Kuro, he realized with his heart sinking. It was Mikuni.

Mikuni? This early in the morning?

"Hello?" he asked into the phone, yawning and slumping back onto the pillow. "Mikuni-san? What's the matter?"

There was a second's pause on the other end of the line, and then Mikuni's voice came through the speaker. "Oh my, Mahiru-kun," he said, sounding equal parts surprised and impressed. "You're up to answer the phone early. Did I wake you?"

"It's..." Mahiru was interrupted by a big yawn. Now that the first shock was gone, sleepiness had quickly caught up with him again, and he was starting to wonder if lying back down had not been the best idea after all. "It's okay," he said. "What is it?"

"Technically, nothing worth a call for. I was trying to text you, but I think I hit the wrong button and you picked up before I could stop it."

Jeje's voice muttered something in the background, and Mahiru thought he caught the words "liar" and "you did that on purpose."

"What, Jeje?" Mikuni shouted away from the speaker, but still so loudly that Mahiru flinched away from his phone. "What did you say? I can't hear you!"

Mahiru sighed and yawned again. On the other end of the line something clattered and crashed, and there was a series of undefinable noises before Mikuni's voice appeared through the speaker again.

"Anyway," he said, "now that I woke you up, might as well talk to you this way. Say, Mahiru-kun..." He paused for a moment, either for dramatic effect or out of actual hesitation, Mahiru couldn't tell. "You weren't planning to meet with Tsurugi-san again this morning, were you?"

Mahiru blinked in surprise, suddenly feeling more awake again. "Uh... no," he said. "But how did you–"

"That's good then," Mikuni interrupted him. "Don't meet with him anymore for the time being."

Mahiru almost dropped his phone. "Yeah – no – uh, what?"

"Do not meet with him."

Mahiru shuddered. He didn't know what it was, but something about Mikuni's words sent chills down his spine. The light, cheerful ring had evaporated from his voice, making a shadow pass over him and flit through the room, dark and cold enough to sense but too quick to grasp.

"I wasn't planning to," Mahiru managed out after shaking off the chill. "But... why?"

Mikuni was very quiet for a very long moment, as if pondering his answer, thinking intently about each phrasing and every word. "You can't trust him," he said at last. "There are some things about Tsurugi-san and the student council that you need to know. But I probably shouldn't be telling you that here."

Mahiru frowned. "Why not?"

"It's confidential. If I talk to you about this over the phone, I can't know who else is listening in on your end... or mine." Mahiru furrowed his brows, and somehow Mikuni seemed to guess his expression. "I know that sounds a little paranoid, Mahiru-kun, but believe me. They have their eyes and ears everywhere, I know. I was one of these people once."

"You..." Mahiru blinked. "Were? But... you're still part of the student council, right? As the vice-president–"

"I am," Mikuni said with a small laugh. "But I'm not part of the group behind it anymore."

Mahiru didn't know what to reply to that.

"In any case," Mikuni continued on after a moment's silence, "let's meet up later in peace. After school, all right? I'll text you a meeting place."

"O-Okay."

"And one more thing."

There it was again, that shadow passing over Mikuni's voice as he seemed to inch closer to the speaker, so close Mahiru felt like he was whispering directly in his ear. "Do not tell anyone about our conversation."


Memories again.

Kuro had drifted off again, sliding into another half-sleeping daze. Once again he was haunted by images; but this time the images were less fast, less flickering, revealing complete scenes he had long tried to push out of his mind.

He was in a narrow street, tall, unwelcoming buildings with bare, windowless walls looming up on both sides. Blood was on his hands, splattered onto his face and his clothes, his or someone else's, he didn't know. Probably not his, he thought. As much as he wished it was, he didn't feel any pain. Looked like he had won this one again, and he didn't know why.

Three figures were spread out on the ground before him, one kneeling, one sprawled over the floor, the third one slumped against the concrete wall on the side of the street. All of them were disheveled and bruised and bleeding, one of them bending his leg at an unnatural angle, another one clutching his arm and feebly trying to move it. Pain was drawn across their features, pain and fear as they raised their eyes to stare up at Kuro in horror.

What had he done?

Kuro wasn't sure how the situation had started. All he remembered were shouts and insults, and the next thing he knew he had been caught up in the middle of the fight, warding off the attacks from three sides without understanding what they wanted. They were older than him, taller. They could beat him up with ease, he thought. And he had wanted to let them. He had wanted to lose this fight, he had wanted to be the one cowering on the ground clutching broken limbs in their stead, anything. Anything to prove that he was human, defeatable. Anything to prove that he wasn't a monster.

But in the end it wasn't them he had lost to. It was his own survival instincts, kicking in and making him fight back, fight back as hard as he needed to free himself from them all, as hard as he needed... to produce these horrifying results.

"You..." The tallest one of the three tried to straighten himself up, quickly flinching and collapsing back on the ground with a wince of pain. "Damn it..."

Kuro stumbled towards him, extending a hand, but his opponent only shied away as if expecting to be hit again. A stab shot through his heart. He wanted to apologize, but he didn't know what to say.

"I... uh..."

"Don't say anything." The stranger gasped and spat out a mouthful of blood. "You monster."

Kuro flinched back as if he had been hit. The words resonated through his body, a cold, merciless echo that ingrained itself in his mind, carving into his heart with a sharp, icy knife.

They were right, he knew that. All of them were right. Every single one who had called him a monster, a killer, an abomination... they had been telling the truth. And yet it still hurt. He didn't want to be a monster. He wanted to be human. He wanted someone to tell him he was human, not a monster, no matter how dangerous he was in fights or how good he was at harming people.

Not that it would ever happen, of course. He wasn't one of them. He didn't belong with them. All he could do, all he would ever be good at was hurting others, injuring them and breaking their bones and making them bleed.

"You're strong."

The voice of an adult snapped him out of his thoughts. Kuro gave a start. All his defenses snapped back into place. Adult voices at scenes like this were never a good thing. The others would make him out to be the villain again. No one would believe him when he tried to defend himself. He would get in trouble, and then–

The man who approached him seemed to guess his thoughts, because he smiled, stepping around him and coming to a stop at his side with a non-threatening smile. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble," he said. "I know you're not at fault. I saw the whole scene."

Kuro's eyes went wide. A part of him he didn't know he had started to swell up in his chest, strangely tingly and excited. This feeling... what was this feeling? He shouldn't trust this adult. For all he knew this could be a ruse. It could be a trick. And yet...

He had wanted to hear these words for so long. He had wanted someone to believe him. Just one single person.

Scary as it was, he wanted to trust this guy.

"You know," the man said, reaching into his coat pockets and pulling out a set of bandages of all shapes and sizes, marching over to the injured boys and beginning to expertly patch them up like a professional doctor would, "that's quite a skill you have there. It's pretty rare for someone your age to already be this good at fighting."

Kuro said nothing. He simply continued to stare at the stranger with wide eyes.

"Where did you learn it?"

Kuro didn't answer; he only frowned, pondering the question. Truth be told, he wasn't sure. Just like this fight, it had all just spiraled from somewhere, a series of ever-changing schools and classmates and always being the new kid with no friends, the one who was easy to bully and pick on. Defending himself was something that had happened on instinct, and then...

"It just... happened."

The stranger gave him a long look, as if debating whether to ask more questions or leave it be. Then he shrugged, and the anxious pounding that had spiked up in Kuro's chest subsided a little.

"What grade are you in?" the man asked instead, still showing no signs of judging him, and Kuro's insides were beginning to feel frighteningly warm. No, he didn't want to feel this way. He didn't want to be happy... grateful. This person had to be up to something. No one had ever liked him for who he was. His true self wasn't likable.

So why... did this guy not seem to judge him? Why did he not dwell on his past or his suspicious, monstrous fighting skills but decide to change the subject to such a casual, nonchalant question? This wasn't the kind of question to ask someone like him. This was the kind of question normal kids were asked. And he wasn't normal.

"Middle school," he muttered, avoiding the man's eyes. "First year."

"I thought so." The man returned back to patching up the remaining injuries. "So that makes you, what? Twelve? Thirteen?"

Kuro didn't know where to look. "Twelve."

"Twelve... and already able to single-handedly defeat three taller and older guys." The man's voice was quiet, thoughtful, not judging but almost... sympathetic. Like he could tell that no one his age could get this strong without immense struggles, without the constant choice between fighting back and ending up in the hospital.

"That's some amazing talent you've got there."

Kuro's eyes went round. Blinking, he stared up at the strange man in front of him, his heart skipping a beat. Was he... being praised? For this violence?

"Ta...lent...?"

"Of course it's talent. What else should I call such skill?" The man smiled. "Even for someone who had to learn all this from an early age, achieving skill levels like that takes potential. You're a natural at this."

A natural... at violence, huh. A natural at hurting people.

Kuro tried to shake the thought. This man didn't seem to think that way. This man seemed to think his strength wasn't all that bad. Even if Kuro couldn't understand how.

"You... don't think it's bad?"

The man raised his eyebrows, and Kuro's heart skipped a beat. His hands clapped over his mouth. What had he said? What had he been thinking? This was impolite, he had made a mistake, he had–

"No, I don't."

Smiling, the man stepped away from the last of the attackers and stood in front of Kuro, leaning down a little to look him in the eyes. "Let me guess," he said. "You've probably been taught that this is violence and it's a bad thing at all times because it hurts people, right?"

Kuro swallowed. And nodded.

"Well, what if I told you you can also use it for good?"

There was a knock on the door, and Kuro snapped out of his memories back into reality.

Why had he remembered that just now? And why had it been... so vivid?

"Kuro?" Mahiru's voice called through the door, strangely real and familiar after the memory a moment ago. "Are you awake?"

Sitting up, Kuro made to call and realized that he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday.

"Yeah," he said, frantically wondering what to do as he scrambled for the door. "Yeah – uh – hold on."

He adjusted his shirt and tie, smoothed out his clothes, straightened his hair and hoped he looked more or less normal. Time to put the mask back on and pretend. If Mahiru saw through him, it was over.

He opened the door, and for the moment he felt almost... normal. Not quite okay. But close.

Mahiru blinked, staring up at him in wide-eyed, startled surprise. Kuro looked back at him with the blankest face he could possibly muster. The seconds ticked by. Neither of them said a word.

"You, uh..." Mahiru broke the silence at last. "You're... already dressed?"

Kuro shrugged, trying to play it off as no big deal and hoping Mahiru wouldn't notice. This was no big deal, he told himself. He'd done this a million times before. Years and years of practice of constantly fooling people into thinking he was fine when in reality he could barely remember how to function.

"Couldn't sleep," he muttered.

Mahiru frowned, and Kuro had to force himself not to squirm under his gaze. "You couldn't sleep?" he said. "Are you okay? You're not getting sick, right? It's not because of–"

"No."

Mahiru flinched, and Kuro's insides froze. That had been too loud. Too desperate. His mask, his mask wasn't good enough... why wasn't it good enough? It had always worked. Pretending had always worked just fine, so why wasn't this the same?

Quick, act like you always do. Play it off. Cover it up. If you show any more emotion than that he'll notice.

"Don't worry, I'm not getting sick." Kuro leaned against the doorframe, avoiding Mahiru's eyes as he channeled some attempt at a lighthearted, amused face. It was hard. How did he even look when he was amused? He tried to imagine the feeling... but his mind came up blank. He didn't have the energy to channel happy feelings right now.

"What a pain. Even I can have trouble sleeping sometimes without getting sick," he said, hoping that his face and voice would simply adjust to the joking tone of his words. "No need to be such a worrywart, Mahiru."

Mahiru didn't yell back at him. He only continued to gaze at him with the same slight frown as before.

"You can take today off if you want," he said at last. "I can tell the teachers you're sick."

Kuro's eyes went round. Even the heavy feeling in his chest was forgotten for the moment. All he felt was surprise, surprise and the lingering realization that he didn't know what to feel. If Mahiru, the same Mahiru who had dragged him out of bed every morning without fail and yelled at him for even thinking of skipping class, was telling him to stay in bed... what was he supposed to do with that?

And what was he supposed to reply?

The suggestion was tempting, so tempting. He wasn't sure how he was on his feet at all, and even the thought of going somewhere and attending classes felt physically exhausting, numbing his mind and his limbs and turning them to lead. Staying in bed and resting today, simply doing nothing and not facing anything or anyone, sounded so very inviting.

Except then he'd really be skipping class. After all, it wasn't like he had a good excuse to stay home. He wasn't sick or anything. The only thing he was was tired and a little depressed, and that really didn't justify being coddled like this. All his past guardians and teachers were right. There was nothing wrong with him, nothing that couldn't be solved by pulling himself together.

So pull himself together he could. Because if he couldn't, he'd be weak. He'd be a failure and a disappointment, even more than he already was.

"Nah," he said with a shrug, struggling to keep his gaze focused as the spiteful voices grew a little louder in his head once more. "There's nothing wrong with me. I'm gonna go."


This... was strange.

Mahiru didn't understand anything either. All he knew was that something was wrong. And not just a little. Something was seriously wrong, and he didn't know what to make of it at all.

Yesterday he had thought Kuro was simply upset, but this was getting weird. He had seen Kuro upset before, he had seen how he acted, and never before had he come close to anything like this. This was beyond sadness, or anger, or any other emotion Mahiru knew a word for. This seemed worse. And Mahiru didn't know what was scarier, that realization itself or the fact that he didn't know what was wrong with Kuro at all.

He hadn't encountered anything like this before. Everyone he had spoken to had been at least somewhat responsive, but with Kuro he felt like he was shouting at someone in the distance who couldn't hear his voice, simply repeating the same phrases over and over because he didn't know what else to reply. No, it wasn't that. It was as if Kuro was hidden behind a glass wall, and everything Mahiru said bounced directly off it without getting through to him at all.

Even right now, as they sat next to each other in class, Kuro didn't seem fully there, fully real. If anything he seemed like an impostor, a stand-in who had been sent to try and act like the normal Kuro but couldn't do much more than read his usual lines, or a hologram projected onto his real form to act like his usual self while the real Kuro behind the projection suffered in silence.

Mahiru knew something about people. And he knew when someone was pretending. Kuro was obviously pretending. It was clear as day; he could see the strain on him, the lack of genuine emotion behind everything he did.

But... how should he help him?

Kuro wouldn't even tell him what was wrong. He was refusing to acknowledge something was wrong at all. Maybe just towards Mahiru, maybe even towards himself too. If only Mahiru could look into his head and understand. He wanted to know. He wanted to be able to help.

Kuro, I... don't know you at all.

He thought he understood Kuro. He thought he knew him well. But when he saw him like this, he couldn't help feeling like he didn't know a single thing.

What was it that was going through Kuro's head at the moment? What was it that he remembered, what he felt, what he was trying to hide? What had he gone through? What did he fear? What was it that was making him so desperate to try and bottle up his feelings while insisting he was fine when he usually had no problems opening up to Mahiru about fears and bad feelings?

His hand balled up into a fist under the desk. Kuro didn't seem to notice. His eyes were seemingly focused on the desk, but in reality he was staring at nothing, his relaxed position somehow forced. Mahiru wondered what he might be thinking about, if he was thinking of anything at all. Just from looking at his face or thinking back on what Kuro had told him, he couldn't tell. He didn't know.

Kuro... you...

I know you're my friend, but... who exactly are you?


Too many noises. Too many people. Too much of everything.

The classroom wasn't even that loud or that bright or that crowded, but it was still too much. His senses were overloading. His head was splitting. Something tense and anxious grew in his chest, darker and bigger and heavier by the second, a dread and foreboding of something terrifying that was to come. It was about to get worse again, he knew it. The voices in his head were growing louder. The walls were closing in.

He threw a glance at Mahiru, but that didn't comfort him at all. On the contrary. Somehow looking at Mahiru's face made everything even worse. The shadow inside him grew, larger and larger, darker and darker, threatening to reach out and consume him whole.

What was he so afraid of?

He couldn't say. All he knew was that he was frightened. Acutely frightened. He needed to get out of here. He needed to get away. If he had to sit here, among people who could see him, listen to the teacher's voice and pretend to be fine any longer, he would break down. His leg was bouncing, his lungs were full, too full, about to burst... Why did they feel so full? He tried to breathe... but no air came in. Oxygen... he needed oxygen...

Crap, he was shaking.

Voices in his head. Feelings. Louder and louder, tuning out the teacher's voice, tuning out everything. All he could hear was the sound of his own fears and self-hatred.

Shadows... darkening... trying to swallow him...

He couldn't breathe...

Shaking. Why was he shaking, he couldn't control the shaking...

Must... breathe...

He needed to... something... he...

He couldn't do this.

"Sorry, Teach," he said, standing up from his chair with the last composure he had left. "I'm not feeling well. I'm gonna go to the nurse's office."

"Wha– hold on!" He didn't turn back as her voice rang after him. "Do you need anyone to go with you? What's the matter? Ku–"

The door closed behind him, and he stumbled through the hallway into the nurse's office, grateful to find it empty. No one around to watch him here. No one around to witness his weakness that was so close to overwhelming him now.

Staggering into the hindmost corner, away from anyone who could possibly come in and see him, he collapsed on the ground, curled up into a ball and stopped fighting for now.


The first period ended, and Kuro still wasn't coming back.

Mahiru shifted in his seat, glancing back at the door for what felt like the millionth time. Ever since Kuro had disappeared, he hadn't stopped squirming impatiently and staring at the door, hoping it would open to reveal Kuro standing in the doorframe, looking tired but otherwise fine. The clock had stopped moving entirely. The class had taken forever to end, forever until Mahiru could finally go and check up on Kuro.

Now that he was free, he didn't waste a second. Jumping from his seat, he ignored Ryuusei and Koyuki's startled shouts and made for the door, throwing it open and running outside. No running in the hallways! the disciplinary committee part of him shouted, but the rest of him didn't care. This was an emergency. Not rule applied when there was an emergency strong enough to set it aside for the moment.

Part of him wondered if this was his fault. If he shouldn't have brought Kuro to school today after all, if he should have let him stay home. Going here had obviously been too much for him, if he had barely lasted half an hour. Even if he had recovered a little now, how was he supposed to survive the whole school day? He shouldn't stay here. He shouldn't have come here at all.

But Kuro had insisted, Mahiru told himself. He had claimed to be fine. He had told him over and over that he wasn't sick, there was no need to worry, he could go to class as usual. But he hadn't been fine, and this was the result.

What was he supposed to do?

There was only one option. When he found Kuro he'd make him admit the truth, and then he'd sent him home to rest. Anything else wouldn't just be irresponsible, it would be dangerous. Although... leaving Kuro alone...

If only he could skip class and spend the day with Kuro. He didn't even have to do anything. Just being there and watching over him, making sure things didn't get too bad, would take a huge burden off his shoulders. But what should he do? The school would never allow him to skip for a reason like that!

Damn it, why did he only have the choice between wrong options? No matter what he did, everything seemed like it would only make things worse!

Gasping and panting, he stumbled up to the nurse's office, skidding to a halt just in time to remember not to barge in without warning. With one hand reaching out to catch himself against the doorframe, he knocked and waited for a reply. The nurse's, probably. No matter how much he wished it was Kuro's voice who would answer him, he didn't dare get his hopes up.

"Come in," said a voice, and of course it was the nurse. Mahiru's heart sank a little. It wasn't like he had expected anything else, but he was still disappointed. Disappointed and worried.

"Excuse me," he said breathlessly, opening the door and stumbling inside, his gaze hectically flitting over the room, searching for any signs of Kuro. There were none. "My friend said he wanted to come here some time ago, is he still here?"

The nurse glanced around, then she frowned and shook her head. "I haven't seen anyone here today," she said. "Although I was needed in the gym, so I wasn't here for some time, but..." She stood up and inspected the room again. "I haven't seen anyone since I came here. Maybe he left already?"

"Maybe," Mahiru muttered as his mind started to race. Kuro wasn't here. He had said he was going to the nurse's office, but he hadn't come here. Not for long, at least. Then where was he? Could he have returned to the classroom? But then Mahiru would have run into him on the way, wouldn't he? So that couldn't be. But then...

Where else could he be?

Was he still in the school building somewhere? Maybe he had gone to the bathroom. Maybe he was outside, needing some fresh air or something. Or...

Or maybe he had gone back to his room?

But that wouldn't make sense. He had insisted on going to school. He had to be here somewhere. But where?

The bell rang.

Mahiru gave a startled jolt, staring at the clock on the wall and swallowing. Crap, he had completely forgotten about the end of the break. The next class was already supposed to be starting and he was still here. He was going to be late!

Part of him wondered if he should simply skip. Ditch class and go looking for Kuro, try to find out where he was and what he was doing and if he was okay, if he needed help or company or anything else. Going back to the classroom like this didn't feel right. It felt like he was abandoning his friend, choosing something as common as studies over his safety and well-being.

But what else should he do? He didn't know where Kuro was or where to look for him. If any teachers found him roaming the hallways outside of classes without aim he would probably get in trouble, and Kuro would definitely blame himself for that when he found out. Besides, the others would be worried. He hadn't taken the time to tell anyone where he was going when he ran out, and they would definitely be concerned when he didn't come back.

Cursing everything and everyone, he turned on his heel, running back to the classroom and stumbling inside seconds before the teacher. His eyes automatically flitted to Kuro's seat. It was still empty.

Of course it was. He didn't know what else he had expected.

Looked like he'd have to wait and see, then. Maybe Kuro would come back soon. Maybe he would skip this class and then return in the break, or whenever else he felt like it. Maybe he had gone back to the dorm, and he would hear from him soon. Either way, if he didn't show up Mahiru would just have to go looking for him during lunch break or whenever he got the first free minute to do it. It wasn't like he could have gone far... right?

Just in case, he should probably text him.

Glancing around to make sure the teacher wasn't watching, he broke yet another school rule to reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. But when the screen lit up, something else was waiting for him with the bright flicker of an incoming notification.

A text. But not from Kuro; it was from Mikuni.

In light of recent developments, I think we should speed up our meeting a little. Come talk to me as soon as possible.


"The poor thing," Tsurugi muttered as he gazed outside, watching the lone figure curled up between bushes and trees, small and hidden and trying to cover eyes and ears at the same time. "Touma-sensei was right, he really is fragile. To think that this much stress over a friend befriending someone else would send him into a spiral like this..."

Yumikage leaned over, looking down at the figure below with a scowl on his face. "You knew this, didn't you?" he said. "That's why you did all this. 'Cause you knew he'd fall into a hole and shut down, right?"

"Not directly. I was only hoping for a disagreement or two." Tsurugi smiled. "But this is going better than I thought. Look at him. He needs help, doesn't he?"

"Looks like he really could–"

"Shirota Mahiru-kun," Tsurugi continued without letting Yumikage finish, still not taking his eyes away from Kuro's small, helpless form. "You're known for being a patient, loyal friend, but... how long can even you put up with this before you break?"