DAY ONE ; 1:45 P.M.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru's body was slick with sweat and blood. He struggled to breathe underneath Mondo Oowada on his back and the heavy Kevlar Vest on his torso. And yet he staggered on, taking steps that threatened to crash him to the ground with every inch and breathing so hard he could barely tell if it was his back pushing against Oowada's dead chest or Oowada's living, breathing chest pushing against his back. It was the only way he could figure out if his friend was still alive. His vision was blurry – tears, sweat, blood, all three, he didn't know. He didn't know anything, and he didn't know how to deal with it.

But they had made it to the clinic. There it was, just a few feet away, a gate surrounding it and trees sheltering it. He nearly broke the gate upon going through it and, praying that it would be empty, crashing through the front door.

There was a cot on the left side, and Ishimaru lowered Oowada onto it as gently as he could. Then he collapsed, catching himself on his hands and knees. He didn't have the strength – the strength – the strength to do anything.

And then Oowada's hand twitched, and Ishimaru was up again.

"Oowada-kun?" he asked. He glanced around frantically. There was nothing he could use to try and wake him up… with a lack of anything better, he took a water bottle out of his bag and wet a rag from the table. He wiped blood off of Oowada's face, peering down at him.

Oowada's eyelids fluttered, and he groaned. Ishimaru's heart skipped a beat. He was still breathing, and that meant that he could still be saved. He rushed to the cabinets, pulling out anything and everything that he could use. Bandages, expired antibiotics, all of it. He hurried back to Oowada and unbuttoned his shirt.

"Wh…" Oowada muttered.

"Shh, Oowada-kun," Ishimaru said, applying the bandages to Oowada's side as quickly as he could. There were other problem areas, of course – his left arm, both of his legs, to name a few – but the side worried Ishimaru the most. Oowada shifted. "Please stay still."

"You… how'd we… get here?"

"I carried you," Ishimaru said, looking up and meeting Oowada's eyes. Oowada looked confused, uncomprehending. "I carried you from the incident with Souda and Kuwata to the clinic. About two and a half kilometers."

"You… shit… man…" Oowada seemed to be struggling for breath, and Ishimaru jumped to give him antibiotics.

"Swallow these, please."

Oowada tried, his throat rippled, but he coughed them back up. With the coughing came more blood from his stomach, and his legs… Ishimaru barely wanted to look at them, the mess of blood and bone and flesh. Both of them were broken in a million pieces, it seemed, with flesh carved out and blood soaking it all. There was a piece of bone sticking out from his arm, as soaked with blood as the rest of him.

Ishimaru's eyes re-filled with tears and he could barely hold back a choked sob.

"Nobody's… nobody'd ever do this… for me," Oowada said. His eyes were filled with tears, too. "'cept… 'cept Daiya… brothers… we're brothers, hey, Ishi…maru?"

"B-brothers?" Ishimaru asked.

"Yeah…" Oowada said, smiling up at the ceiling. Tears were running out of the corners of his eyes but he didn't seem to notice. Ishimaru reached a shaky hand up to wipe them away. "Brothers… hey… we coulda done this… in school? You're an alright guy… brother."

"Brother," Ishimaru said, and his heart broke with his voice. "Brothers, please don't – not as we just-"

"Oi, stop that…" Oowada said. He smiled a little, and then his hand went back to his side. "'s bad, ain't it?"

"Oowa- Brother- I- I bandaged you and-"

"I can't feel my legs… you gotta live, though…" Oowada said. "Even if… you know… I can feel the blood with my hand… and I can see it on you. There's no… fuckin'… way-"

He broke off, coughing, blood coming from his mouth and his nose. He took in a deep shuddering breath, and then Mondo Oowada died.

Ishimaru sat in a stunned silence for a few seconds, and then burst into tears. He cried into his recently found and lost brother's chest, covered in blood and not caring, crying to wake the dead – if only – and not caring, clutching at his brother's clothes and crying into his skin and feeling the most grief someone can stand.

He didn't know if he could handle being without Mondo. He didn't know if he could do it. He'd killed, but the death of Kazuichi Souda seemed to mean nothing now, with Mondo gone. With Mondo gone…

He had to live. He had to live, he had to honor Mondo's last request and live. He had to find Fujisaki and get him out of here if he could, too, because that's what Mondo had wanted. To protect Fujisaki. Leon to a lesser degree. He could forget Leon. But he would never forget his brother.

He took in a deep breath, breathing in Mondo's smell - he reeked of death, now, of blood and of urine and of sweat – and it was like his spirit entered him. The strength of a gang leader who would not be brought down from something like the bullets of an Uzi. He would live on through his brother, and his brother would live on in him, and a new person would be born.

A new person named… named…

Ishida.

He was Ishida, part-hall monitor, part-gang leader, and he was going to a) protect Chihiro Fujisaki and b) live. Live and take vengeance for those who took his brother's life. All of them. He would take vengeance on all of them. They had all done this – Kazuichi Souda, by being so easily broken, and Leon Kuwata, for not keeping a closer eye, and Makoto Naegi, for not keeping the peace (he wasn't there shut up I know), and Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, for… for… for everything, and everyone for everything, and he was Ishida and he would live.

25 STUDENTS REMAINING

Good-bye Mondo, hello Ishida. Still trying to work out how I can get something I want to happen to happen with their combined morals, but it'll work out. It'll work out. Also, listening to sad Ishimondo mixes on 8tracks while writing this doesn't equal a fun time. But it turned out pretty good despite the lack of happiness, which is I think what makes it good.