The only sound in the vast darkness was the gentle lapping of waves against sand and the soft rustling of palm leaves. The moon by this point was well overhead, bathing the tropical setting in an ethereal silver light.
Karasuma Tadaomi, however, did not allow his idyllic surroundings to lull him into a false sense of security. His situation was anything but ideal.
Stoking the fire and adding branches occasionally to keep the flame alive, Karasuma remained vigilant, his eyes peeled and his ears strained for even the slightest of noises. There was no telling what sort of nocturnal predators might be lurking about, and seeing as his target had dumped the responsibility on him, he had no choice but to be the watchman.
Speaking of his target, Karasuma glanced across at the infamous octopus himself, sleeping peacefully in his protective orb. It was incredibly aggravating to behold such a sight, his target all safe and sound in his ultimate defense form, while Karasuma had no choice but to fend for himself. He obviously wouldn't be getting any assistance from his target.
All the same, sleep tugged at the man before he could push the feeling down, and he found himself wishing for nothing more than a wink of sleep. He berated himself immediately. When had he become so soft? Back in the academy, he could stay perfectly conscious and alert for 48 hours straight during a mission, as proven by the academy's rather intense, and realistic, training methods. If need be, he could even stay conscious for 72 hours in that sort of situation, though his physical and cognitive abilities would be severely depleted by then.
The only instances in which Karasuma had pulled any all-nighters recently were when he had more of those ridiculous reports to file. Honestly, when he had enrolled in the academy, he had assumed that his graduation would signal the beginning of a career in which he could actively protect the country he loved. Now he was stuck teaching middle schoolers by day, and by night, filing report after report that never changed in the slightest. What had happened to that grand dream he once held?
"Hey, Octopus," he said, piercing the thick silence that blanketed the island.
Korosensei didn't stir.
"Octopus." He tried again.
Of course, no response.
Karasuma got to his feet and stretched. His muscles were starting to feel the strain of the day's ordeal, but he paid the aches and pains little mind. He trudged over to where his target sat in the sand on the opposite side of the fire, and knelt beside him.
"Hey, wake up," he prodded, tapping the clear orb that shielded his target from danger. "It's your turn to keep watch."
The only response was a light snore.
Incensed, Karasuma took Korosensei in his hands and shook him violently, but it proved futile. Nothing could wake the cephalopod as long as he remained in that form.
In a huff, Karasuma dropped his target to the ground and trudged back to his spot, opposite the fire. This damn assignment, this damn target of his, were wearing down his energy and patience. That had to be it. That had to be why he could no longer easily go 48 hours without sleep in these sorts of circumstances. If only that frivolous target of his could learn to be a little more serious for once, Karasuma thought, his life wouldn't be nearly as trying.
Karasuma stared at the smoldering fire, letting the searing flames reflect in his dark eyes. His mind churned. The octopus acting serious?
Like that could ever happen.
The sun was nearly overhead when Korosensei finally opened his eyes, only to behold not the peaceful tropical scenery, but a rather large and glowering Karasuma, who was, incidentally, staring right at him.
Needless to say, waking up to an angry Karasuma, expression dark from lack of sleep, is not the best way to start your day. Korosensei immediately snapped his eyes shut.
It was far too late for any of that, though.
"You're finally awake," Karasuma remarked none too kindly, having noticed his target's open eyes.
Korosensei slowly cracked open an eye. "Good morning, Karasuma-sensei," he said cautiously. He didn't know what exactly he'd done to make his coworker this irate, but since he could think of quite a few things off the top of his head, he thought it was safe to say that he had royally screwed up somewhere along the line.
"I hope you at least had a good night's sleep."
Korosensei wasn't fooled. Those words were dripping with malice.
"Ah…ahaha," he chuckled nervously, avoiding the question that was a landmine waiting to be stepped on.
Karasuma only glared at him. "You didn't wake up last night for your turn to guard."
"S-sorry. I was pretty beat yesterday…you know, since my ultimate defense saps a lot of my energy."
Karasuma nodded, but the look on his face made it apparent that the explanation was anything but accepted.
Korosensei directed his eyes toward the sand. Of course Karasuma was mad. Karasuma didn't have a protective ball to shield him from harm in the event of a plane-crash. He didn't have someone to carry him through the dense jungle in search of food and water. He didn't have another person to set the fire. He didn't have another person to help him keep watch at night. He did that all himself, while Korosensei could only sit there uselessly.
"Karasuma-sensei, I really am sorry. I really was drained before, though, and I couldn't help it—ʺ
Karasuma only turned his back to him and laid down on his side. "There's still a few more hours before you revert back to normal, so just do me a favor and keep watch until then. I'm getting some sleep."
Korosensei wanted to say something to justify himself, but he knew that further words would only infuriate his coworker. Instead he offered a dejected "ok" and glued his eyes to the scene. From what he'd seen of the island so far, though, it was unlikely that anything dangerous would come prowling around the shore in broad daylight. His purpose for keeping watch was more to watch for any ships that may come near, as unlikely as that was.
It wasn't long before Karasuma's breathing had deepened to the point where it left no doubt: the man was well and truly asleep. He was doubtless a light sleeper though, so Korosensei took care to not make any sounds.
Korosensei felt terrible for subjecting Karasuma to this. Karasuma was really such a skilled person, and he handled the crisis situation of crash-landing on an island exceptionally well, considering. In his ultimate defense form, Korosensei realized he was only a hindrance to Karasuma.
Somehow, it always ended up like this. No matter what he did, it aggravated Karasuma, or it dragged him down in some way. Korosensei never wanted that! Sure, an occasional joke at the man's expense wasn't exactly out of the question, but with Karasuma being the oh-so-serious, straight-laced sort of guy, he was practically inviting such jests. Even so, Korosensei was never truly trying to make Karasuma's life harder; in fact, he wanted nothing more than to befriend the man. But somehow, his efforts always backfired.
He was torn from his thoughts by the feeling of his body reverting back to normal, his body growing in size and absorbing the pure energy that made up the ultimate defense. In under a minute, he stood, towering over the sleeping form of Karasuma.
Just once, he wanted to make it up to Karasuma.
Certainly, going to seek out a rescue party could be postponed. First, an apology was in order.
Korosensei, to the best of his ability in his none-too-stealthy body, crept into the dense forest. He realized rather quickly that this form of his was rather inconvenient for navigating the complex maze of foliage, but he made do, not wanting to alter his current form. As bizarre as it was, he was actually rather fond of it.
Spotting a small grassy-looking plant nestled between some nearby trees, he reached out a tentacle and grasped it, uprooting the plant to reveal a sizable brown root. "As I thought," Korosensei said, assessing the root. "This will taste rather delectable in a bowl of ramen."
That was right; surely a freshly made dish of food, it's ingredients procured directly from the island, would please even Karasuma. Korosensei slowly made his way deeper and deeper into the jungle, pocketing ingredients as he went, already tingling in excitement as he thought about Karasuma's reaction to the dish. At the very least, he thought, it would smooth over any bumps in their relationship that may have formed.
The deeper he went, the more Korosensei noticed the air becoming thicker and more humid with each step he took. Before long, a warm mist hung around him, its fog-like presence blanketing the world in a ghostly white.
Korosensei could feel his pores soaking up the water in the heavy air, his movements becoming slightly sluggish as his limbs swelled with the added moisture. A hot spring must be nearby, he thought, just as he was about to turn and go back the way he came.
However, he came to a stop when he remembered something important. A certain plant grew around hot springs in this region, one that, when added to ramen broth, could transform the dish from "just ramen" to "gourmet ramen." Emphasis on the gourmet.
He quickly debated whether or not it was worth it. The plant may not even be there, and his appendages were quickly becoming waterlogged. However, it wouldn't take long, and besides, if he put that in the soup, even the stoic Karasuma would surely weep tears of bliss. This herb was no joke.
Clinging to that possibility, Korosensei continued toward the hot spring, his eyes peeled for the steaming pool, and hopefully, the plant that would grow at its edges. It wasn't long before both came into sight.
Gleefully, Korosensei reached the pool's edge and evaluated the tiny herbs that grew there. Aside from its distinctive leaves, it was a rather peculiar plant. Despite the scalding water temperature of the spring, which would normally damage a plant's roots, this particular plant thrived on it. Specific to these Pacific regions, it was truly a wonder of nature.
Korosensei pulled at the plant in an effort to uproot it, but it refused to budge. While it was true that the leaves were to be used in the broth, the root was also essential to the recipe. He had to have both.
Mindful of the distance between him and the spring, which was a narrow margin indeed, he continued to pull at the plant, but his bloated tentacles, combined with the slick moisture on the plant, made the task next to impossible.
"Why, you!" Feeling a flash of anger, Korosensei wrapped his tentacles more tightly around it, and with an almighty pull, the plant sprang free of the ground.
A brief smile of satisfaction crossed the teacher's face, but it just as quickly morphed into an expression of shock and panic as he felt his center of gravity being upended. The force of his pull had proved to be too great, and instead of his tentacles finding purchase on the ground to halt his descent, they only slid on the slippery surface, carrying his body backward as fell into the hot spring with a tremendous splash.
Panicked, Korosensei struggled to the side of the spring, trying to climb up and out of it, but failing miserably as his slick skin slid uselessly against the rocky sides of the pool. He had to get out of here, or else he would be too waterlogged to move! He wouldn't be able bring a rescue party to the island!
Heck, Karasuma probably wouldn't even come looking for him! He would probably assume that "the octopus" had went on his own to bring help, and had never returned.
That fear made him struggle harder, even though he was trying to compose himself. He feverishly clawed at the sides, but it didn't work. Of course it didn't work, as he had been the one to design himself this way, since a good, weak teacher doesn't have scary claws. Boy, was he regretting that decision, and was trying to remember how to will his body to change for him. He had done it once, so why not again? But of course, he gets flustered in unexpected circumstances, so he could do no such thing. Another flaw he had designed for himself, obviously having no foresight.
Giving up, he sank into the water, all hope lost. At this point, he was probably saturated beyond belief, his head and limbs bloated to gargantuan proportions. He probably wouldn't be able to move if he tried.
But he could.
Rather easily, actually.
Korosensei tried moving his tentacles again, not feeling the burdensome weight that would usually fill his sopping body. In fact, it didn't feel as if his body had absorbed any water at all, as if the warm water was sliding over his skin as it had when he was still human.
Since acquiring his new body, he had been unable to soak like this, as he would absorb the water too fast, which took all the soothing enjoyment out of the experience. He loved his new form, but being unable to bathe or swim was certainly something he missed.
Could it be that this water was different somehow? No, no, no, that couldn't be, he distinctly remembered being swollen and bloated mere seconds before.
He sank into the water, the warmth soothing his suddenly sore body. Despite the perplexing nature of the situation, he found himself indulging in this sorely missed recreation.
What had happened?
He brought a tentacle up for inspection, but he couldn't see it through the steam that hung heavily in the air. Puzzled, he brought a tentacle to brush some hair out of his face.
He stopped short.
Hair?
He didn't have hair.
Feeling that his heart had stopped, he slowly dragged his tentacle down his face, feeling it brush against eyebrows, eyelids, a nose, a mouth, and all the dips and curves that he hadn't possessed for nearly a year.
Now that he thought about it, his tentacles were actually rather hand-shaped for tentacles.
Just to be certain, he ran his hands down his body, and sure enough, everything was there.
Everything human was there.
The plant that he had pulled out earlier floated lazily by him, and Korosensei watched it go by with a blank stare, recalling how that herb had been the root of all this.
Shit. He paled as the situation finally sank in.
Karasuma was going to kill him.