As they step out of the bus, Peko looks over her charge; she sees a flash of heavy worry in her charge's face, but shortly after, it's gone rather quickly. Both she and the young mistress have heard of the news late at the night. Her charge hasn't said anything about that, but she can tell that she hadn't taken it well. She understood. If she was allowed to, she'd also feel the same way.
Natsumi turns to her, narrowing her eyes and quietly orders her, "Go." Her gaze lingers far on the hospital ahead of them.
Her eyes glance over to the building's entrance; those eyes then waver back to her charge. The bodyguard stills. She knows that she can't leave her on her own, but at the same time, her charge's orders are absolute.
A moment passes, and she snaps, pushing her away with far more force than usual. "What the hell are you waiting for?! "Her order is reiterated in-between a choke and a growl. "Just go!"
Peko doesn't feel the impact of her hands against her body even as she staggers back a few steps. She regains her balance immediately and simply bows her head, acknowledging her lapse in judgment. "As you wish."
Natsumi huffs, a scowl forming over her face. She faces away from her, grumbling about a few more things; what she said wasn't audible enough for her to understand. She crosses her arms, walking away from there.
Under normal circumstances, Peko would've gone off to follow her charge. This situation is different from what she's used to, but despite that, she doesn't think much of it. Although constant worry about what her charge might be doing keeps biting back at the back of her mind, she reminds herself that she wouldn't be gone for too long.
As she passes by these white halls, a part of her feels as if the building's interior would've bleached Natsumi's eyes so much if she came along.
As she got inside the building, she thinks back about the short conversation she had at the front desk. From what the receptionist told her, Fuyuhiko is currently in an intensive care unit.
It didn't take long for her to reach there. She sees him behind the glass door. The world stops right there for her. She quietly swallows the lump in her throat.
If it weren't for the life support hooked up to him, she would've thought he's sleeping peacefully, just like how he used to back when they were children. Back when things were far simpler. Those painful memories are pushed back into the deep recesses of her mind before more of them can overwhelm her.
She takes a step forward, carefully watching over the nurse who's taking care of him. It feels so wrong to see him clothed in dull green instead of black.
From her spot, she can see how his skin is too pale; his face especially completely lacked the lively tint she'd normally see him in, and if it weren't for the steady beeping from the heart monitor that rang in her ears, she would've thought him to be dead. The thought of that makes her body shake slightly.
Rather tentatively, she puts her hand on top of the glass, the one that shielded her childhood friend away from the world. She lowers her head. Something cold and wet is running down by the side of her cheek; she doesn't reach a hand to wipe it and instead, lets it slowly drop down to the floor.
Aside from her steady breathing, not a single sound comes out of her.
For once, she wishes she disobeyed his order.
Not too long ago, her bodyguard left her to check over him. Natsumi didn't want to waste her time seeing him, so she figured she'd send Peko to do it for her; she'll ask her about the exact details once she's done with the visit.
It's just her here, outside at the back of the hospital. There's no one else here.
She grits her teeth and clenches her fists so hard, her nails start to dig into her palms. Her breathing grows more and more labored in each minute. She feels a lump in her throat; she feels it slowly grow by each moment.
She hates him. She hates him so much. She hates how much he hurt her and the family ever since he left them years ago. She hates how even though he's gone from the family, he still has so much power over her. She hates how he's making her feel this way. Her chest is growing heavier; it has never ached so much like this before.
Her teeth grind against each other.
She hates the fact she felt a similar kind of ache before. She hates him, because all her worthless brother did was cause her the worst kind of pain. And now, he had the gall to get attacked like that.
"Fuyuhiko, you stupid brother." She angrily breathes out. Her hand curls into a fist. With as much force she can put into, she punches the wall.
"Fucking hell. Damn you." She curses, pulling her hand back; she can't feel the impact. The wall didn't dent even a bit.
She curses once again. "Fuck it all." She slams her fist against the wall one more time.
She hears a thud. She vapidly notes it sounded louder than the first time around. Still, she feels nothing.
She slams her fist against the wall again. Nothing; her fingers are starting to twitch. Her ears keep ringing and ringing.
She slams her fist on the wall again. She can't feel the pain of her fist colliding with the wall. She slams it again. A single word repeats all over along with each slam.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."
Again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again. Her fist slams over the same spot on the wall.
Again. Again. Again.
She tunes out the rest of the world around her. She finds herself losing track of time; she doesn't know or care if she's been going at this for minutes, or even hours now. The crunching noises of her curled fist repeatedly hitting the wall are the only things she wants to hear at that moment. She slams her fist onto the wall one more time.
A loud crack fills in her ears.
She feels something warm drips down her numb knuckles. Almost immediately, she pulls her hand back. Her eyes go over her hand as she breathes heavily. She sees red slowly dripping down from the large scrape on her knuckle.
Only then, she did feel the throbbing pain settle in her hand. She growls, curling her hand again, and slamming the bottom part of it to the wall. Her hand throbs all over; her fingers twitch even more.
"Kuzuryu?" Someone calls out to her.
She hears them. Her lips twist into a sneer. She knows that irritatingly familiar voice that's slowly heading her way; she hears him every day in class since they've started this school year.
He steps closer, too close for her comfort, with a hand stretched out. "Kuzuryu, that's enough." He shakes his head. "Your hand is bleeding."
'No shit, it is.' is what she's tempted to reply to him with; it's almost like the bastard thinks he knows everything. She bites the inner side of her cheek, holding her tongue in.
Instead, she answers him with a snarl, "Shut up, just shut up, Hinata."
She clenches her bleeding fist harder; she sees him flinch when she did that. It makes her wonder if a few drops of her blood have already spilled off to the ground seconds ago. It won't surprise her if it did, if she stopped to think back on how much she punched that wall.
His eyes go over to her hand, making him wince very obviously. "I…" He bites his lip, almost like he's trying to think of up something that'd win her over, and then tells her, "I think we should get your hand checked on soon."
Natsumi turns her face away from him, knowing that he's already judging her. She's better than this; she can't let her classmate see her like this. No one can see her like this. She tells him a biting tone, "It's none of your damn business. You better leave me alone right now if you know what's good for you."
Hinata can't just seem to take the hint. If anything, he goes even closer to her; he'd close in on her in less than a foot away if he decides to take a few more steps.
She turns back to him, screaming, "Are you deaf?! Didn't you just hear what I said? I don't care if you're our class rep, and I especially don't care if 'helping people' is what you're good at. I don't fucking need your pity!"
He steps back a bit in shock. "Wait, Kuzuryu, I—"
"Just leave me alone already!" She roars at him. With the way things are, she is dangerously close to lash out at him if he chooses to come near instead.
It doesn't come to that. Hinata is smart enough to not saying anything after that. He looks over her one last time, a solemn expression on his face, before he steps away from her. She hears his footsteps go further and further away from her until they faded to complete silence.
Once he left, there is no one else here outside of the hospital, aside from her. That's fine by her; it's not like anyone else would be willing to listen to what she says.
'So, it really is just me out here now, huh?'
She wipes away her eyes with a sleeve. She feels more tears are about to spill from her eyes, and so she faces herself against the wall, pressing a fist over it. She tells herself, to cover up her sniffles and choked up breathing, "Whoever did this to him, I'll kill them. I'll do it myself. I'm going to make them wish they were never born."
Another droplet spills out of the corner of her eye. She hurriedly wipes it away with the back of her hand. She steadies her breathing, continuing, "I'm going to force them to watch me while I cut them open, I…I…"
She forces herself to take a deep breath, feeling a few more tear droplets escape before they get forcibly wiped off, "I'll rip their guts out, I'll hang them by the neck with it, and after they've finally died for what they've done, I'm going to dump them off to somewhere because whatever's left of them is barely worth anything."
At the end of her rant, she shuts her eyes tight. Her breathing remains shaky at best. She forces her mouth shut, biting back against the sobs that nearly escaped her throat. The lump in her throat feels like it's growing too bigger for her to swallow back.
It's just her in here, but she won't let anyone hear her cry, not even herself.
Natsumi has no idea how long she's been standing outside the building. She hears footsteps coming towards her, bringing her back to the world. She angrily turns her head around, expecting either a random stranger or a certain classmate again.
Upon seeing who it was, her scowl softens a bit to that of a weary face; for a split second, she wonders if her eyes look so red and fucked up right now. She lets out a sigh, shaking her head at that; she supposes even if it does, her bodyguard wouldn't say anything about it. That's just the kind of person she is.
"Come on, Peko." She quietly calls out, making herself step forward to join her bodyguard side by side. She keeps her hands tucked in her pockets as they both walk back to Hope's Peak.
Along the way, she thought it's good that Peko didn't say anything to her.
It's an early Monday morning for the students of the reserve course.
A small group, with at least three members, has gathered around in their seats before the homeroom teacher checks in. One of them turns his head around, as if watching if there's anyone else who might overhear them, and then goes back to the group. "Have you heard of what happened last Friday?" He asks them.
News of Friday evening's incident is traveling fast on both campuses, so it's inevitable it'd reach their classroom at this point.
One of them hums in thought, answering, "Someone found Kuzuryu at the main course's gates, head practically split open. That's what happened, right?"
A classmate who's passing by overhears that. Curiosity comes over her; she goes over their desks and asks, "Hey, which Kuzuryu are you talking about?"
"You know," One member of the original group gestures his hands around, "The guy who transferred here a week ago."
She blinks at him for a second or so. Once she recalls the transferee he's talking about, she chortles, "Hah, I thought you meant the Ultimate Yakuza for a second there. I kind of forgot we had a new classmate."
"I think it'd be a lot better if it was her instead." The other member of the group pipes in, agreeing with her point. "She did cause a lot of trouble the last time she showed her face here, and need I remind you all we got punished for that."
She grimaces, her shoulders shuddering. "I still remember that. That stunt she pulled back then made me hate her as much as I hate the guy who's supposed to be our teacher."
"And we didn't even do anything! I don't think the teacher of her class even knew that happened, and even if they did, they'd either let her go without any punishment or let her get away with a slap on the wrist."
"Wait, before we get too off-topic," Another member interjects, "Isn't Kuzuryu, our classmate I mean, in a coma right now?"
One of them replies to his classmate's question, "I've heard that he might turn into a vegetable soon if things don't get any better for him. They barely got him into the hospital before he kicked the bucket in, or at least that's what I've heard from my friends in the other classes."
"In other words, he might as well be dead anyway if things get worse for him." She grumbles.
He sighs, palming over his face as he nods. "That's what they're all saying. If anything, if that someone who saw him, a teacher or a student, either from the main course or the reserve course depending on who you ask, hadn't found him on time that night, he might've ended up in the morgue instead of the hospital."
"I've heard that Hope's Peak refuses to investigate the incident." A different member adds in. "Not only that, but they're also trying to cover it up as much as they can, almost like they don't want the incident to get leaked into the media. I heard that you'd get severely punished if you get caught talking about it."
She grumbles, "To no one's surprise, the school refuses to take responsibility for what happened in here."
One of them huffs. "Huh," He sarcastically says out loud, "I wonder why..."
The newcomer surmises, "It's got to be one of those Ultimates who did him in. I'm calling it right now."
Another student shakes his head. "That makes sense. Those higher-ups would do anything to protect their precious Ultimate students, won't they?" He scowls before adding, "Even if the Ultimates did end up doing something as terrible as or even worse than this, nothing is going to be done, especially not if we're the victims."
"As long as they're an Ultimate, the school is going to overlook anything they do. Who knows, maybe they'd even excuse a literal murderer if they're an Ultimate."
"I dunno," Another member shrugs his shoulders. He theorizes, "I think it's more likely that one of those security guards is responsible. I mean, he was found at the gates in the evening, right? I'm not defending them or anything like that, but I don't know if any of the Ultimates would keep hanging around outside their campus at that time."
One member strokes his chin with two fingers. "You have a point. I think you're on to something right there."
"Maybe that's exactly what happened." She adds in, shaking her head and saying, "I mean, no one in the reserve course is allowed to get even near those gates."
"No one knows why Kuzuryu was there in the first place. Almost everyone I asked is saying that he tried to sneak in there and then he got caught by the security."
One member makes a face at that implication. "Yikes, now that reminds me of that guy in charge of them. I won't be surprised if it turns out he's the one behind it all along."
One of them growls, "I swear, that guy looks like he'd beat me up for so much as looking at him wrong. I've heard from someone that guy used to be an Ultimate too."
"So basically, it's still an Ultimate who did him in. At least, technically an Ultimate student, if that guy's actually a graduated one. It still counts, right?"
"Guess so."
"Speaking of which, what the hell did we do to make them hate us so much?" One of them bitterly murmurs. "Is it just because we weren't personally chosen by the school? Do they think we just invited ourselves in? Is that why?" He is close to shouting at the end.
A resigned sigh escapes from one of them. "At the end of it, no one is going care about us, or what we've been through. It feels like the only thing we can give to them is the cash we're dumping in."
The newcomer slams a fist onto the desk, startling the group. "Don't they know just how much of our parents' money is being poured in just so that we can get in this class? And that's only for this year! Hell, I won't be surprised if we might not even be able to make it to the end of the first year—"
Loud footsteps are starting to thump into their classroom's way, interrupting their impromptu discussion. They freeze for a split second, before realizing that those footsteps patterns are something they're all familiar with; their homeroom teacher has arrived. Soon, everyone in the small group scrambles back to their seats, acting like nothing happened to keep the middle-aged man from suspecting anything once he comes in.
The door opens with a loud click.
The small group rigidly stays in their seats, bracing for the impact that is also known as their teacher.
Heavy footsteps rhythmically thump over the floor; it might've sounded mundane to anyone else, but to the students of this class, they've learned to associate it with him and so, they've also learned to hate that sound.
Their teacher's gaze lands on them; everyone in the class, even those who didn't join in the original group's discussion, can feel him heavily scrutinizing them.
Finally, he speaks. "Settle down, everyone." His eyes go over them once again, raising a brow when he sees one or two students who are fidgeting around their seats. He shakes his head as he steps behind his desk. "I'll give you all a quick reminder: do remember that anything, and I mean anything, that deviates from our discussions isn't tolerated here, understood?"
Several of the reserve course students mutter under their breath, "I knew it."
The teacher frowns, having heard that somehow; since he's in front, he made sure his students see his visible displeasure. He clicks his tongue, hard gaze focusing on the small group, and reiterates himself, "I said, understood?"
The small group goes quiet for a second or so, before a dull chorus of "Yes, sir" is replied to him.
Once his ego is satisfied, he looks away from them for a moment. "Good." He takes a single piece of chalk, writing down their main topic on the board. He puts the chalk away, glaring at everyone in the class and reminding them, "You lot better not make things even more troublesome than it already is." He clears his throat and opens the textbook, commanding them all to turn theirs on a page he specified.
To the small group that formed earlier, they knew that right now, it's their teacher's way of telling them not to talk about the incident any further without directly referencing it, further reinforcing a few of their theories in mind.
The class went on like it always did. Although in this case, it felt more like their teacher pretended it did so. For some students of this class, they knew better.
Chiaki is still here inside the classroom, physically, at least.
Their teacher was saying something to them, something about a test next week or so, but, his voice slowly fading away to something that sounds more muffled in her ears. As each second passes, she can't hear any more of whatever he's talking about in their class. Her ears subconsciously tune every other noise in the classroom away as well.
Her mind goes back to what she to the bits and pieces she overheard several moments ago before their teacher came in.
She grips her pen a bit tighter than normal, almost like she's trying to squeeze it. It's so irrational to think of something like this, even for someone like her.
'I should've done something.' Her eyes vacantly stare onto her open textbook. She hasn't touched it since their teacher started talking earlier.
Because of the reserve course's Saturday classes, she was only able to visit him at the hospital by Sunday, along with Hajime. It's so cruelly ironic, now that she thought about it. What they saw back there, it wasn't anything at all like how fiction portrays those kinds of scenarios to be.
She remembers from their visit on how Fuyuhiko is barely clinging on to life, with so many wires hooked up to his body; even the doctor wasn't sure whether he'd wake up, if he ever does, it could take months or even years. The worst part is, he doesn't even have a family to go back to.
She thinks back about the last conversation they had, right before the time where Friday's incident happened. So many emotions are starting to cloud in her head, to the point of almost overwhelming her.
Maybe if she'd pressed about walking with him after classes and insisted even more after he politely declined her offer, even if it'd make her a bit overbearing, if she tried even harder last Friday and walked with him anyway despite that. Maybe if she wasn't such a spineless coward in the first place, he'd still be here in class.
If what her classmates said earlier was true, that Hope's Peak Academy is covering this incident up, it made something in her swell up. She thought that the school would at least be better than this, but apparently, they're not. Not only are they refusing to conduct an investigation, they also didn't try to at least warn the reserve course students, in case if the person who attacked Fuyuhiko was still out there.
At this point, another victim is just waiting to happen.
Suddenly, something clicks in her mind. Everything becomes a lot clearer to her now.
'If Hope's Peak won't do anything for this,' Determination sets in her, lighting something she never knew she had until now. 'Then, I can't let myself stand by in the sidelines anymore.'
She steels her resolve. She can't mull over the endless what if's and the different could've been's any longer. It won't help anyone, especially not Fuyuhiko. She won't make the same mistakes again.
If no one else wants to do it, then maybe, just maybe, she can do something about it.
Chiaki promises to him, the second friend she made in this school, 'I swear. I'll get to the bottom of this somehow.'
Lunchtime settles in.
Sato remembers even from the start of their school year, Hiyoko would often vent to them about her, in her own words, 'patients who are so stupid they might as well be brain-dead already'; she gets especially heated when it's one of her classmates who constantly gets injured at least four times a week she's talking about.
Right now, though, it's only her and Mahiru, just the two of them at the rooftop this time. Hiyoko isn't here with them; from what they've heard, she's becoming a lot busier some work these days. It's completely understandable; what she's doing is very important, after all.
She stays completely still in her seat, eyes absentmindedly staring at the skies above. What happened back last Friday hasn't left her.
And then, Mahiru remarks with a bit of worry in her voice, "I don't know if it's true or not, but I've heard of what happened to one of those students at the reserve course," She grimaces, shaking her head. "Just what kind of awful person would do something so horrible like that?"
Sato chokes on her juice box after hearing that. Her chest spasms for a moment there and her breathing becomes funny. She slams a fist over her chest while she continuously sputters out.
Mahiru notices her reaction, and then her face twists into that of concern. She reaches her hand out to her and begins to soothingly rub her back. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. That psycho might still be out there, and no one knows who they might be. "
It's so tempting to say something about that. Sato holds her tongue, refusing to look at her friend in the eye; she's afraid if she did that, that's all it'd take for everything to spill out of her lips.
"You must be so scared right now. If there's anything you need me to do for you, it's okay to let me know." At the end of that, Mahiru lowers her head a bit, flashing her with a small, but reassuring smile.
Without any warning, Sato pulls herself back. She chokes some more, this time, from the lump that's been steadily forming in her throat. She turns her face away from her, bringing her wrist up to start wiping away at her eyes.
Her tone stays delicate as she asks her, "Sato, what's wrong?" Her hand is half-stretched out like she's going to try and comfort her somehow.
"It's…It's…" Sato lets out a laugh to try and cover her cries up. Her hands wipe some more of her tears away. "It's n-nothing, really." She lies, forcing a smile on her face.
"Sato…"
She almost yelps when she feels a pair of hands gently take ahold of hers. Shame fills her up, keeping her eyes away.
"Sato, please. Look at me."
Her friend's tone remains as gentle as ever. Against her better judgment, Sato does just that. Her teary eyes make contact with her friend's eyes. She sees Mahiru's face, a worried frown over her, and…
That's all it took to break her down at last.
An ugly noise comes out of her. She starts sobbing. "M-Mahiru…" She chokes once more, burying her face into her friend's shoulder. "I...I didn't mean to do it."
Mahiru looks taken aback by that, asking her, "What do you mean by that?"
"I…I…" A sniffle comes out of her. It takes her a few moments before she tells her somewhat clearly, "I was the one who hurt him…" She uses her sleeve to wipe another set of tears away, mumbling, "It's all my fault…"
"Sato, it's…" She pauses, as if she's trying to think of what to say next.
'What are you going to say? That it's 'wrong'? I know it's wrong, but, knowing you…' Her eyes remain watery while she tries to steady her breath. 'Please, whatever you're going to tell me, don't say that it's 'okay'. I know that it's not.'
She didn't expect her to say those three words instead.
"I believe you." Mahiru wraps her arms around her, squeezing her so gently in a hug.
'This is wrong. It's all wrong. And yet,'
Sato wraps her arms around her friend's back as well. Her sobs have quieted down to sniffles and shivers. She closes her eyes, letting herself forget about a few things, just for a while.
The rest of the world disappears in her mind. It's just her and her friend up here.
The school day ends quicker than she thought.
Sato releases her breath, the same one that she didn't know she'd been holding in until now. Ever since…well, ever since what happened that Friday night, she hasn't been feeling very well. Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, her classmate, had managed to survive their encounter, but at the same time, she's aware things aren't looking very good for him.
She clutches her chest. Her face contorts into heavy regret and desperation. She truly didn't mean it; her classmate may have been the older brother of that terrible person, but that didn't mean he's a part of this mess. He was just a bystander who got caught up in this.
It was hard keeping quiet about what she'd done for one night and two days. Her guilt continuously gnawed its way through her, until she was unable to keep it in any longer and confessed to her friend, right then and there.
A strained smile breaks out of her.
'I really didn't deserve a friend like Mahiru.'
A good friend wouldn't have tolerated the crime she had done. A good friend would've immediately turned her over to the police. Mahiru is a good friend, but, she is also so much more than that.
In no time at all, Sato makes her way inside her room. She hurriedly goes inside, trying to relax her breaths. Thinking about all of those won't do her mental state any favors. She's so quick to get in; she doesn't even notice just how easily she opened the door.
As soon as she's inside her room, she lets her bag drop off to the floor, and after that, takes her shoes off as well.
It's been a long day for her. She stretches her limbs up, eyes going over the ceiling—
Her eyes go wide. She is unable to keep herself from gasping out loud; her chest heaves in and out so unevenly. She steps back in fear, only to twist her ankle, letting out a soft cry as she falls from behind.
Up there, behind that shining pair of glasses, those red eyes bore right into her skull.
A/N: Holy frick, this was a such a pain to write in more ways than one. I have a feeling that the next one will be a lot more painful.
So a little fun fact: back in the original (and a disastrous mess) version of this talentswap AU, Fuyuhiko was going to be killed off right then and there when he got bonked in the head. For reasons I'll explain some other time, I decided to change it to him getting in a coma instead.