-This is made by Starrshard on Ao3 and Wattpad, please check them out. I have been given permission to upload this to, as they do not have an account on this website-

They all changed after that trial.

Tamaki could feel it in the air.

The remaining survivors had gathered in the dining hall two mornings after Tooru's execution. Nobody was going to eat; who had the appetite for anything? Tamaki's eyes flitted from person to person, observing, silent.

Hitoshi hadn't shown up. He hadn't left his room for days, actually, likely too wrapped up in grief and pain to function. Yaomomo checked up on him yesterday… Someone should go again today.

The detective herself was slumped over the desk, her head on her arms. She was still as ever; as usual. She must be so tired, fighting for all of us…

I wonder if she ever fights for herself.

Mezou was also absent. He was probably in the gym, as usual. He's always at the gym. He's so strong… he has a massive advantage over all of us, come to think about it.

Shouto sat beside Yaomomo, his face also neutral. There were the faintest hints of bags under his eyes, but his expression was sharp as ever; analytical.

Denki was curled up on a chair, his knees tucked to his chest. He had buried his face under his arms and was gently rocking back and forth, like a teetering vase, ready to fall and shatter at any given moment, at the slightest disturbance.

Worry.

But even on top of the electric blonde, Tsuyu was probably the greatest area of Tamaki's concern and sympathetic anguish. She was swaying from side to side like a ragdoll being blown in the wind, her eyes dazed, expression contorted. She hadn't even bothered to style her hair; it was cascading down her shoulders in a wave of dark green, dark and rippling like a lake under the new moon. It was surprisingly well-kept, brushed and glossy and looking soft to the touch; Nejire's work washing her the previous night had paid off, it seemed.

But aside from physical appearance, she was clearly not normal. Tamaki didn't mean that in an offensive way, either; it was just that her expression was most unlike anyone else in the class, even the ones who'd undergone personal trauma, like Denki. She was muttering something incomprehensible under her breath. Her eyes darted this way and that around the room. She was off-center, off-kilter. There was something seriously wrong with her.

Beside her, Nejire sat there, incapable of doing anything but watching her friend with eternally worried eyes. Her own hair was messy and unstyled, tangled. I should do it for her later. There were bags under her eyes, clearly visible against her paling skin. She looked as if she'd aged an eternity.

On top of Tsuyu, she has to deal with herself, too…

What could I possibly do for her, to lighten the load..?

Tamaki sat between Nejire and Mirio. The blonde to his right was sitting back, also watching the class with concern, observing, like Tamaki. The Florist wished he could lean on his boyfriend and fall back asleep, or leave, but the atmosphere was too tense to do anything but sit and move your eyes.

Finally, Yaomomo pulled back off of the table and got up, stretching. "There's no point in all of us sitting here and doing nothing," she said, her voice unemotional. "Go do something productive. I'm bringing Hitoshi breakfast."

She walked out the room, chin up, heading for the kitchen across the hallway.

"I think I'll go, too…" Nejire said. "I'm gonna take Tsuyu to her room, get her food, that sorta stuff." Her voice was soft, noticeably dragged. She blinked and got up, leading Tsuyu to her feet and guiding her along with an arm around her shoulders. The Beauty Pageant Star's feet were shuffling, as if she didn't have the energy to even take normal steps.

As she walked out the door, Tamaki staring at her back, Mirio turned to him. "You're worried about her, aren't you?"

"Eh?" Tamaki turned to face his lover, dark indigo eyes meeting peppy blue ones. Why call me out when everyone's still here, listening in?

"Nejire. You're worried about her, right?" Mirio reaffirmed. "I can agree. She's tired; I can see it in every aspect of her." He flashed Tamaki a smile; how can he still muster the strength to? "Go on. Accompany her."

"Oh. Okay… I'm fine with that. Are you coming with me?"

"No. I'm going to be helping out with the others. Come on, Tamaki. I know you can handle it. It's just Nejire, right?" Mirio smiled. "Go. Be there for her."

Tamaki blinked. He'd noticed Mirio's pushing him to be more independent lately; it was glaringly obvious, a harsh turn of action. Nonetheless, the Florist got up and began to hurry out of the room, to go after the blue-haired girl.

He shot a glance back as he left, catching Mirio's soft, slightly sad gaze trailing on his back.

Mirio. Why are you trying to push me away..?

Shaking off unease, Tamaki hustled down the hall and up the stairs, towards the dorms. With a quick step, he was able to glimpse Nejire's bright blue hair up ahead as he entered the living area.

"N-Nejire!" She turned at his voice, surprised that he'd followed.

"Tamaki! What are you doing here?" A slight pause. "Where's Mirio?"

"Ah… he told me to come after you…" Tamaki hesitated; he was never good at being genuine in person. It never came out right; always sounded too cheesy or awkward. "Umm… we were worried about you…"

The two walked along, their pace slower, Tsuyu still guided by Nejire's hand.

"Huh? Aw, you guys are too sweet. I'm fine," she said dismissively. "But thank you."

"No, seriously. You look exhausted," Tamaki managed to blurt out. "How much did you sleep last night?"

Nejire opened her mouth, before closing it again, before speaking finally. "Like, seven hours. I told you, I'm fine."

They'd reached Tsuyu's dorm. Nejire pulled out a key that had the Swimmer's nametag and opened the door, leading them inside to a rather messy room.

The walls were a gentle blue, and the floor was wooden. There wasn't much that suggested Tsuyu's talent, unlike Tamaki's room of flowers and Nejire's walk-in closet, oversized makeup collection, and mirrors. There was a handful frog-themed stationary on her desk.

Tsuyu obviously would never clean, considering the fact she couldn't even maintain her own health. Nejire was never an organized person either, even though she still managed to look nice and maintain charm. Her room -her actual room, the one at her family's apartment, in addition to her hero dorm- was always messy, but she knew exactly where everything was. It was a sort of disorganized perfection, just like her; curious and blunt, passionate, emotional, a naive grace that used to put a spring in her steps.

As Nejire led Tsuyu to bed, Tamaki continued to speak. "To put it straight, you look terrible. Come on. You put Tsuyu to bed, and god knows what you did the rest of the night. Making sure she fell asleep? Watching over her? Sleeping in her room? Helping her with any night horrors she faced?"

"Okay, okay! Truth is, I slept maybe… two hours, in total?" Nejire's voice faltered. "Sort of on and off throughout the night."

"Well, you need more than two hours of sleep each night, especially when you're doing this every day," Tamaki gently chastised. "Go take a shower after you put Tsuyu to bed. I'll watch over her."

"Hey… I can take care of myself too, you know?" Tsuyu suddenly spoke up. Her voice was small; shaky. "I agree with him. Nejire, take care of yourself. I'm glad you care so much about me, but you're just as important to me, too." She smiled up at her. "Get some rest."

"Oh, Tsu..." Nejire's voice broke, tears welling up in her eyes. Her breath hitched. "I-It's okay... a-as long as you're okay, I-I'll be fine..!"

She rushed out and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl's figure, all of the stress and emotion that resided in her condensed into the stream of tears dripping down her face as she cried. Tsuyu smiled sadly and rubbed her on the back. Tamaki stood there and awkwardly tried not to stare at the scene, staring at a heap of clothes on the floor instead, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his suit coat. I should clean up the room.

A few minutes later, Nejire calmed down enough to pull back and semi-compose herself. "S-Sorry about that. I'll go take a shower…" She tried to muster up a smile on her quivering face. "Go to bed, Tsu."

Tamaki turned and faced the door while Tsuyu changed, in an attempt to grant her some privacy. Once her meek "I'm done" brushed his ears, he turned back around to see her tucked in.

While Nejire showered, Tamaki busied himself with gathering up all the dirty clothes around the room and throwing them in a laundry basket. He also managed to do a quick sweep of the floor, cleaning up the place the best he could. Mirio always joked that I would be the "housewife", when we moved in together.

I hope that wish can come to fruition.

"Tamaki~" Nejire's gentle voice rang through the room as she opened the door. She was dressed in a clean set of pajamas, shuffling along in slippers. "Wow. You really cleaned this place up."

"It's nothing," he said sheepishly. "I'll do the laundry later. I'm... going to brush your hair," he said, his voice faltering slightly.

"Aww, you don't have to. I can do it myself."

"You haven't been taking care of yourself. Mirio and I worry about you; I'm sure everyone else does too. I'm making sure you're having a bit of self care," Tamaki explained. "Now, go sit down over there."

Nejire sat down at the desk, as instructed. Tamaki got out the hair dryer and a brush. He got to work drying her hair, before combing it out, working away at the knots in the dull blue fibers.

"You should be more genuine, Tamaki," Nejire murmured, her voice relaxed under his toying of her hair.

"Mmh?"

"You've got to be more genuine. We care about you. Me, Mirio, Tsuyu, Yaomomo… we're your friends, y'know? You can talk to us. It's okay to show a bit of weakness. It doesn't mean you're weak or cheesy or uncool. It just means you're human, like the rest of us." Nejire chuckled, taking Tamaki's hesitating hand as a chance to turn her head and smile tiredly up at him.

"You can show emotion with us. Cry a little sometimes if you're feeling blue, alright?"

Tamaki paused, silent, frozen, unsure what to say. Seeing his reaction, Nejire laughed softly. "Haha. Easier said than done, huh..?" She turned back around, giving Tamaki his job back. "Think about it, alright?"

As Tamaki continued brushing, his mind continued to revolve around what the bluette said.

Show some emotion, hm..?

Expression of pain, of sorrow...

Like it or not, people view it as weakness.

Look at the ones who have fallen already...

Denki, who loved and cared for Kyouka, for his friends.

Hitoshi, who felt emotion for Mashirao.

Yaomomo, who loved her friends and now fights only for them.

Mezou, who cared about his class enough to feel betrayed when Ochako tried to frame him.

Do I really want to fall like them?

I love my friends, I love Mirio, and all of the underclassmen I feel the duty to protect...

I love the ones who have died, too...

Would showing the pain I feel be viewed as a weakness, too?

Would it mean I would finally fall off the tightrope I've been walking for days, weeks, months, years..?

Do I want to fall?

Maybe I would, if it took the stress off of someone else's shoulders.