Cookware clinked and water sloshed as the remains of a very late lunch were tidied up. While Karasuma used canteen water to rinse the bowls and utensils (items they had procured from the plane), his assassination target sat quietly by his side, taking each dish and drying it with a dish towel (also from the plane).
Karasuma cast a sidelong glance to the dish-dryer beside him, noting the despondent way that he sat hunched over, his eyes trained a bit too intensely on each dish he picked up. It was difficult to say, but Karasuma could almost swear that there was a slight pout to his lips. It seemed the octopus was still sulking about what had happened earlier.
Karasuma hadn't particularly meant to be mean, but after arriving back to their campsite, when it came time to prepare their meal, he had expressly forbidden his target from so much as touching the cooking pot. The octopus had insisted that he prepare the meal himself, and an elaborate one at that, as a means of apologizing for earlier. Now that things had settled down, it seemed the former assassin was feeling quite embarrassed about letting himself fall victim to such a simple trap and having to have Karasuma rescue him.
Karasuma, however, wouldn't have it. His colleague had drawn back, hurt by Karasuma's insistent tone, but, Karasuma reasoned, they really didn't have time for such niceties. The onset of evening wasn't too terribly far off, and it was essential that they built some sort of shelter for themselves. Preferably at a new location, Karasuma had thought, thinking back to the peculiar gazes of earlier, the memory alone making his hair stand on end.
His target, however, had accused him of not trusting him. Karasuma had half a mind to dismiss his accusations, but after the events of the day so far, Karasuma couldn't say that he really did trust him.
Karasuma had taken it upon himself to cook the meal, a simple soup with a side of bread, all items that had been retrieved from the plane. Throughout the meal, an almost palpable silence hung between them. There was such a sense of gloom radiating from the octopus, Karasuma could've sworn that he could just reach out and touch it.
After a meal that Karasuma could honestly call the most awkward one he'd ever partaken in, he finally decided to give his target the menial task of drying dishes, if only to put a stop to his sulking.
After the last dish had been dried and packed neatly away in Karasuma's bag, Karasuma stood, surveying the slanting shadows of the dark forest. It was probably around three-thirty or four o'clock in the afternoon. Just enough time.
"Octopus," he began, addressing him with his characteristically authoritative voice. "We're leaving."
"Eh?!" His target whipped his head towards him at that, apparently forgetting that he was supposed to be pouting and ignoring Karasuma.
"We're finding a new campsite," Karasuma clarified. "And I have just the place in mind."
The former assassin's shoulders slumped. Karasuma couldn't help but wonder what it was the octopus had been expecting him to say. Had he expected him to have come up with a daring plan to escape from the island?
Karasuma turned his back on his colleague, walking closer to the fire to ensure it was dead. "Gather your things. We're leaving in ten minutes."
By the time ten minutes rolled around, the two men were ready to embark, their belongings stashed in the packs on their backs. Sticking to the beach, the pair followed the sandy curve of the coast until the beach seemed to widen, the sand-filled gap between the trees and the water much greater than it was at their previous campsite. It was here that Karasuma stopped.
"This should be sufficient for now. The stream isn't that far off from here, either. We may have to move again, but this will do in the meantime."
His target didn't say anything, only stared off into the forest. As Karasuma set his bag down, the former assassin finally did the same.
"One of us will stay with our supplies and the other will go foraging for building materials for the shelter. When one of us returns, the other will go out to fetch more materials. The one left with the bags will watch them and begin constructing the shelter." Karasuma decided.
His target opened his mouth to say something, probably to volunteer to collect materials first, but Karasuma was too fast. "I'll go first to collect materials," he asserted.
The octopus slowly closed his mouth, a look of discouragement flickering across his features for only a second before it was replaced with his usual cheerfulness. "Alright then. I'll guard the campsite."
If Karasuma had to be honest with himself, he wasn't sure if he trusted his target to guard anything, but something was better than nothing, he supposed. There certainly didn't seem to be any predators about. So long as he remained on the beach, he shouldn't encounter any trouble. Consoling himself with that thought, Karasuma ventured off toward the forest.
The light dimmed significantly once he found himself under the jungle's canopy. The sound of the stream gurgling nearby was soothing, but aside from that, the odd silence of the forest put Karasuma a little on edge.
Hacking his way through the foliage with his trusty machete, he observed each plant closely until he was able to locate the perfect materials. Thick and sturdy branches that would create a strong structure for the shelter, large green leaves that would surely provide water resistance, and of course, nearly unbreakable vines to tie the whole thing together.
Karasuma collected all of these items and tied them together in a bunch using the thick vines that were so abundant, and hoisting it up, he made his way back to their new campsite. While he had procured most of the materials they would be needing in one trip, they could still probably do with some moss to add extra insulation on the roof. Some palm fronds for the floor wouldn't be a bad idea, either.
Karasuma returned, thankfully, to find that nothing had gone wrong for once. His target had even taken the liberty of drawing another large SOS in the sand, and was beginning to construct a fire from what little materials they had.
After sending the octopus off in search of moss, palm fronds, and anything necessary for a fire, Karasuma began the task of constructing the shelter. Tying together all the sturdy branches to create a tepee-style hut seemed much easier in theory, he realized, but after a while he eventually managed. He was just finishing up tying a lattice of smaller branches to the tepee's frame, so that they could layer moss and anything else on it, when his target returned, his arms laden with bundles of soft, green moss, leaves, and branches.
"Karasuma-sensei!" Korosensei called, beaming as he was finally able to present his findings to his colleague.
Karasuma nodded approvingly at the supplies, once again surprised by the fact that everything was going smoothly. It seemed almost unnatural.
Working rather efficiently, the pair layered on the moss, branches, and leaves until the tepee looked to be a fine shelter indeed. Korosensei crawled into the rather spacious hut and spread palm fronds on the floor before laying out a blanket on top of it. While it wasn't exactly the picture of comfort, it was about as comfortable as one could get, stranded on an island like this.
Karasuma, meanwhile, built up the fire, and just as evening was falling, too. It seemed that it was going to be another clear night, the stars gradually appearing against the quickly darkening sky. The soft sound of feet padding across the sand alerted Karasuma to his target's presence, and as he took a seat on the opposite side of the fire, the two stared wistfully into the crackling flames. Still full from their earlier meal, they forewent dinner, choosing instead to sit in reflection. Aside from a few attempts from Korosensei to ruffle his colleague's feathers or create small talk, a silence eventually settled upon them, and as late night approached, the fire was reduced to embers and eventually snuffed out, and the two teachers made their way to bed.
It was a bit cramped in the shelter, but lying side-by-side, facing away from one another, each man more or less had just enough room. Even so, it was a long while before either fell asleep. Karasuma's mind was wide awake despite the late hour, and it never ceased to rest. While it was true that they were doing rather well given the circumstances, having built a shelter and by no means having a shortage of supplies, there was still much of the island that they hadn't seen yet.
There was something about this island that was really starting to bother him. Call it a soldier's sense or whatever you will, but Karasuma wasn't about to ignore it.
The next day, it was time that he really discovered what was up with this island.
With his mind made up, Karasuma soon felt sleep tugging at the edges of his consciousness. He was at the verge of giving in to it, letting his heavy eyelids slide closed and envelope him in darkness, when suddenly—
"Zzzz…"
Karasuma's eyes shot open. Was that…a snore?
"ZzZZzzZZ…"
Yes. Yes it was.
Well, it seemed that the octopus had fallen asleep, a fact underscored by some of the most obnoxious snoring Karasuma had ever heard. Having the sound right at his ear only heightened his irritation.
Seriously, was his target an old man?
Karasuma wished he had a pillow to wrap around his head to smother the sound, but unfortunately, he was rather lacking in the pillow department. With a hiss of annoyance, he slapped his hands to his ears. It provided little to no solace, though. Not only was the position uncomfortable, but it did little to mute the noise.
Just when Karasuma felt sure that it couldn't get any worse, he felt a leg drape itself over his own and an arm fling across his middle. He nearly jumped when he felt the loud snores at the back of his neck.
Karasuma fidgeted, trying to slip away from the octopus or pry his limbs off, but the former assassin had a formidable grip and held fast to his fellow teacher.
"Get off me!" Karasuma roared, trying his best to shake off the unwanted company.
The snoring man in question only tightened his hold, embracing his straight-laced colleague in a tight bear-hug from behind.
After 5 minutes of fruitless struggling, Karasuma finally gave up, resigning himself to his fate. With his assassination target more or less spooning him, breathing down his neck and snoring in his ear, it was now that Karasuma realized his crucial mistake.
He should have made two shelters.
"Ah, I sure slept good last night! I haven't slept that well in ages!" Korosensei exclaimed, stretching as he stood on the sunny morning beach.
"I'm sure you did," Karasuma stated dryly, his own eyes bloodshot as he prodded the fire with a twig, attempting to rekindle the stubborn fire. He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the night before thanks to a certain sleeping beauty who had attached himself to him.
The former assassin flopped himself down on the opposite side of the fire, oblivious to Karasuma's plight and evidently reenergized from the night's rest. "So, what's the plan for today?"
Karasuma didn't even look up from his task. "First and foremost, you're building another shelter."
"Eh~? Why? I thought that the one was just fine."
Karasuma pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just…do it as soon as possible." In all honesty, Karasuma was just too tired to fight.
Korosensei looked disheartened. "Oh. O-ok."
Karasuma sighed. "Anyways, today we have something else on our plates."
Korosensei was instantly attentive. "What is it?"
"It's about time we found out what's really on this island. We're going to map it out."
"Really?!" he asked excitedly, whipping out a pair of sunglasses and slinging his canteen over his shoulder. "When do we start?"
"After breakfast," Karasuma assured him, finally getting the fire to cooperate. After withdrawing from his bag a skillet and some just-add-water pancake mix, Karasuma proceeded to make breakfast. They would be doing a lot of walking that day, after all, so it was important that they both had their energy. Plus, there was no telling what they'd run into.
After the pancakes had been eaten and the dishes cleaned, the two men were ready to embark. Standing before the edge of the forest, Karasuma held in his hand a notebook with gridded pages and a pencil for drawing the map. Strapped to each leg was a knife, there in case he should need to draw them.
"It looks like we're ready," Korosensei remarked, only barely keeping the quiver of excitement from his voice.
Karasuma turned to him, already feeling a headache coming on. "You do know that we're not doing this for fun, right? This is serious."
"Yes, of course, serious," his target agreed, nodding his head and looking rather serious indeed. "But you have to admit…isn't it kind of adventurous? Exploring someplace that maybe no one else has before?"
"No," Karasuma said immediately. "In my experience, if no one has ever explored the place before, there's usually a reason for it."
"That's…a bit extreme, don't you think, Karasuma-sens—"
"All the same," Karasuma said, unbuckling one of the straps on his legs, "I want you to take this." He held out a knife to his target, its blade down and tucked into a sheath, leg straps dangling from it.
For a moment, it appeared that his colleague couldn't process the action. He quickly recovered, however. "K-Karasuma-sensei, I couldn't possibly…"
"Take it," Karasuma insisted. He looked his target in the eye, understanding his reluctance. The last time he'd held a real, bona fide knife, it was probably to kill someone with. "It's for self-defense," he added, a bit softer. "How will those kids feel if their target bites it on some island in the middle of nowhere?"
Korosensei bit his lip, staring at the weapon hesitantly. Without a doubt, Karasuma thought, images of the 28 students they had left behind were running through his mind. He knew they were in his own.
After a minute, and with an uncertain gulp, the former assassin finally took hold of the knife. Long after Karasuma had relinquished his own grip on it, his target continued to stare at the weapon in his hand, seemingly in a trance.
Karasuma coughed awkwardly, stepping forward. "I'm going. We don't have all day." With that, he started off into the forest, jumping to the side of a tree trunk and using it to catapult himself to a higher branch.
"W-wait, Karasuma-sensei!" his target called, frantically trying to secure the knife to his left thigh.
Karasuma pretended not to hear, but he did slow his pace to allow him to catch up.
It took nearly all day to traipse through the jungle and mark any important landmarks. It probably would have taken much longer, though, if they hadn't had parkour skills at their disposal. It helped that the map Karasuma was using was already partially completed; he had already drawn the basic shape of the island and the outline of the forest, thanks to the coastline walk they had taken on their first day there. On it already were the plane crash sites, their first and second campsites, sections of the freshwater stream, and of course, the peculiar spring which had caused the octopus's bizarre transformation.
Over the course of the day, the majority of what Karasuma and his target encountered was exclusively limited to trees and vines. They were able to follow the stream and plot its entire course, discovering its source and that at one point it even hit a multitude of small rapids. Towards one end of the island, the higher part, it was rockier, and this was where the springs were to be found. To the other end of the island, the ground was lower and sandier, with less rocks. There was even a particularly large tree towards the center of the island.
Stopping to rest near a copse of trees and vines, Karasuma reviewed the map, nodding to himself as his eyes roved over the image. As much as was possible, they had covered every square inch of the island.
But still, it was strange. On their trek, they had encountered many hunting traps (which were then carefully marked on the map, especially the pitfall ones), but not a single other sign of civilization was available. No villages, no houses, no tents or huts: nothing. It was also strangely quiet on the island, no birds cawing, no crickets chirping, only complete silence. Stranger still, he hadn't felt the unnerving presence that he had the day before. Despite their search, Karasuma couldn't help but feel even farther from the mystery of the island.
"Whew!" Korosensei exclaimed, taking a large swig from his canteen. As he screwed the cap back on it, he put his hands on his hips. "I'd nearly forgotten what it feels like to walk this much. Sure is tiring," he remarked. "Especially in this kind of environment."
Karasuma barely spared him a glance.
Sitting down on a toppled tree trunk, the former assassin sighed. He gave the knife at his thigh a long look. "In the end we had nothing to worry about, huh…" he said, just above a whisper.
He'd probably said the words more to himself than anyone else, but Karasuma still caught it.
"WAH!" his target suddenly cried out, followed by a dull thunk.
Karasuma dropped the map, drawing his knife at record speed and dashing towards his target. But as he looked to where the man had been only seconds before, he found that he was there no longer.
"Octopus!"
"Ow ow ow ow~" came a whine from the direction of the tree trunk. From a curtain of flowering vines located directly behind the tree trunk, a head of raven-black hair poked out. "Ugh, I thought that wall was solid," his target complained, rubbing his head apologetically.
Karasuma could only stare at him.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," his target assured him, gesturing to him that he could put the knife away. "I just thought that was a wall, and I leaned back against it," he explained, looking a little embarrassed. "Definitely not my best judgement." Suddenly, his head disappeared as he dipped back behind the curtain.
Karasuma's stomach dropped. "Wait a minute, we don't know what could be over there ye—"
"Wow," his target marveled, cutting off Karasuma's concerns. "Who would've thought that all this was back here!"
Karasuma dragged an exasperated hand down his face and began to make his way to where the octopus was. Seriously, his target was much too happy-go lucky. He wondered how he'd survived up until this point.
Soon, though, the octopus's gleeful exclamations came to a halt. "Karasuma-sensei?" his target called, his cheerful tone faltering. "I think you'd better come over here."
Karasuma didn't need to be told twice. Fearing the worst, he kept his knife drawn and at the ready before parting the vines and stepping through them, finding himself in a corridor of trees.
Like his target, his first reaction to what he saw was awe.
Densely packed trees and vines were all it took to hide a cleared, dirt avenue, bordered on both sides by foliage so thick it was impossible to see through. Vines and other ground-level plants snaked their way across the dirt road, giving off the impression that it hadn't been used for quite some time. At the end of the avenue was a murky swamp with towering trees growing straight from it, their tall roots extending deep into the water.
But it was what was beyond all that that nearly made the knife slip from Karasuma's hand.
There was a shack. A lone, wooden shack on stilts was situated on the swamp, a wooden boardwalk leading to its front door.
"That's…"
"Whoever it was, I don't think they're here anymore," his target supplied, his sharp eyes analyzing the scene. "This path is overgrown, and that cabin looks to be in quite a state of disrepair."
Karasuma had to agree, but he still couldn't bring himself to put his knife away. While the hidden place they had found seemed beautiful, there was some underlying feeling there that made him want to shudder. He didn't like it.
And that was precisely why he had to know more.
"K-Karasuma-sensei?!"
Karasuma had started walking toward the dilapidated structure. He didn't bother to stop, nor did he bother to turn around. "You're coming, right? It'd probably be a good idea to have your knife out."
Karasuma couldn't see his target, but he imagined him struggling with whether to follow or not, whether to draw the knife or not. Regardless, a few seconds later, he had caught up and fallen into step beside him. The former assassin still hadn't bothered to draw his knife, but Karasuma chose not to comment.
The boardwalk to the front door of the shack groaned and creaked under the pair's weight, but the wood held firm. Despite all the dirt and mold to be found on it, the wood didn't actually appear to be that old. It had only been there for a couple of years, perhaps.
Karasuma was the first to reach the door of the cabin. He tried the rusted door handle, turning it slowly, and to his surprise, he found it unlocked. He turned to his target who gave a single, determined nod, and slowly, Karasuma turned the handle all the way, pushing the door open.
The door creaked open on rusty hinges, revealing a gaping maw of darkness. "I don't suppose you have a flashlight on you?" Karasuma said, just under his breath.
"Sorry," his target whispered back, offering a grimace. "I tried to pack light."
Of course. Karasuma was certainly glad that his target was no longer lugging around that gargantuan pack of his, stuffed to the brim with every curio imaginable—it certainly made mobility much easier—but it certainly was unfortunate in circumstances like this.
Karasuma had, in fact, brought a small lighter with him. He didn't smoke, but he reckoned the pilot of their flight had, for he'd found it in the wreckage of the cockpit. Because it was so small, he'd been keeping it in his pocket.
It wasn't much, but hopefully it would do. Withdrawing the small contraption from his pocket, it only took him a few tries before a tiny flame finally sprang up from the corner. Holding it out and aloft, Karasuma nodded to the man behind him and when he received one in return, he ventured forth.
At first, all that came into sight was darkness. The small sphere of light that surrounded the tiny flame did little to shed any illumination. However, it wasn't long before Karasuma's foot bumped into something metal that rattled as it screeched across the wooden floorboards. Karasuma lowered the lighter to get a good look at it.
It was a cage. An empty cage, but a cage all the same.
Karasuma held his lighter out farther, revealing more cages like the first, all of assorted shapes and sizes, stacked one upon the other.
"I think I found a lamp," he heard his target say from across the room, quite unexpectedly. It shocked him a bit; he didn't notice that the other man had left his side.
There was the sound of someone fumbling in the darkness, and then something metal clattering to the floor. Finally, light flooded the room.
"Yikes!" his target cursed, falling backwards as he came face to face with a large, grinning shark head that was mounted on the wall. Directly in front of it was the oil lamp, now shining brightly and casting an eerie glow upon the shark's razor-sharp teeth.
Karasuma's eyes grew wide as he was finally able to take in the contents of the room, his mind finally putting the pieces of the puzzle together. He wondered how he hadn't considered the possibility before.
The reason why the island was so eerily quiet, why he hadn't seen a single animal since arriving on the island, it all made sense now. Just one look around the room provided him with all he needed to know.
"Poachers."