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Shouta hadn't intended to yell at his friend like that. He knew that the blond had only tried to involve him and cheer him up. But Shouta didn't feel like cheering up. Since Oboro's death, all he wanted was to be alone. To train alone, to learn alone and to take care of his future alone. He thought about his friend almost every day and missed him terribly. Often he cried himself to sleep, even if he didn't tell anyone, not even Hizashi. The blond seemed to have much less problems dealing with the death of their common friend. After a short time, his old, loud self was back. Shouta couldn't understand that. Didn't Hizashi miss Oboro, too? Didn't he suffer from the loss? How could he just forget about their friend after such a short time and go on with his life as if nothing had happened? Shouta was furious and when Hizashi approached him after school with his typical loud manner and asked if they wouldn't like to go to the arcade together, the black haired finally burst his collar. Normally this didn't happen to him, but Hizashi just annoyed him. Everything annoyed him.
He yelled at him that his loud and annoying manner was getting on his nerves. That he found it disgusting that the blond would go through life so happily, when one of his closest friends had died in an accident. Shouta shouted all his frustration from his soul and all of it hit his blond friend unfiltered, who seemed to grow smaller with every word.
When Shouta had calmed down to some extent, he looked into two green eyes that looked at him in complete shock. Shouta could see that the blond was fighting tears. All the people around them, their classmates and even some of the teachers, were grasping at him, stunned. Shouta knew he should have apologized. Hizashi didn't deserve that, but he was too proud and still upset, so he just turned around and said as he walked away, "I wish you had been the one buried under the debris." He said it quietly, hoping Hizashi hadn't heard it. He regretted those words even before he finished saying them, for they were not true. Never would he have wanted Hizashi's death, but neither Oboro's.
On the way home, he glanced anxiously at his cell phone several times. Would Hizashi write or call him right away to get along? No, why would he do that? That would have been Shouta's job. He put the cell phone back in his pocket and walked on dejectedly.
Once home, he ran to his room without another word to his parents and closed the door behind him. He threw his bag in the corner and threw himself on his bed. Again, he pulled out his cell phone. Nothing. No new messages. Shouta clicked on the chat with Hizashi. His fingers hovered over the keys, but he couldn't find the right words. He sighed and put the phone away again. He tried to sleep, but he was too restless. So he decided that he would go for a walk. But since he didn't feel like talking to his parents, he left the room through the window. If he would be back home around 06:00 PM, his parents would probably not even notice his disappearance.
He opened the window and jumped onto the soft grass. He had no fixed destination and just took off in any direction. The fresh air did him good and cleared his head. His feet carried him to the nearby park and when he spotted a bench, he decided to take a short break. He took his cell phone out of his pocket. Still no message from Hizashi. The blond must have been very hurt and Shouta still hoped that he hadn't heard his last sentence as well. Again his fingers slid over the keys. He knew that he was the one who had to apologize, but he just didn't know what to write.
"Dear Hizashi," he began. No, what was way too formal.
"Hey buddy,..." That was kind of inappropriate.
"Hey Mic, I wanted to tell you that....." A loud bang and subsequent screams jolted him out of concentration. There had apparently been an explosion or something similar in the shopping mall in front of him. Souta put the cell phone away and ran in the direction of the smoke. He wasn't a fully trained hero yet, but he could still help. Screaming people came toward him and as he got closer to the scene of the accident, he saw that several buildings were badly damaged. Injured people were screaming for help, somewhere a baby was crying and a dog barked. Shouta tried to get an overview and looked for pro-heroes whose instructions he could follow. But he seemed to be the first on the scene. His mind raced: "What do I do? Where do I help first? Are the buildings in danger of collapsing?" Before he had finished his thoughts, he heard a loud crash above him. He saw debris crashing down on him, but he froze. Had it been the same for Oboro? Had he seen the danger coming? Did he know he was going to die? Shouta's body trembled, tears running down his cheeks as the image of his friend manifested in his mind's eye.
"O..b..o..r..o.....," the black-haired stammered still staring at the falling debris.
"SHOUTA!!!" The scream of his name snapped him out of his trance and he was able to make a leap backwards at the last moment before the debris smashed into the spot where he had been standing a moment ago. His breathing was heavy and now it was cold sweat running down his face.
A hand grabbed him by the shoulder and Shouta turned around with a jerk. He looked into a pair of green eyes and into a face so familiar.
"Hizashi," he called out wanting to hug his friend. But then he remembered the incident from earlier and froze in motion. Suddenly, he heard sirens. The fire department arrived with a large contingent, followed by various police cars and some pro-heroes had finally arrived as well. Shouta relaxed and now he noticed that Hizashi's hand was still resting on his shoulder. The blond, just like him, looked at what was happening and the heroes arriving. Shouta's cheeks warmed and he averted his eyes from his friend.
"Let's go, Shou," Hizashi said suddenly. "We can't help here." The black-haired just nodded and silently followed his friend.
They walked side by side in silence for a while before Shouta spoke up.
"I'm sorry," he said carefully. "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that earlier. I know you only meant well."
Hizashi said nothing, but when Shouta looked at him, the blond smiled. "I know, Shou. It's all right. I just wanted to distract you a little, but maybe it's better if you grieve your way and not mine." Shouta didn't quite understand what the blond meant.
"You don't seem like you're grieving."
"I am grieving, just differently than you. I don't think Oboro would have wanted us to spend the rest of our days in mourning, but to be honest,...." he hesitated to continue. "...... To be honest, I often cry in the evenings because that's when my mind settles down and I miss him all the more painfully." Now Hizashi looked Shouta in the eye. "I miss him too, Shouta. He is missed every day, but our lives go on. And we should honor him and his memory by making the best of our lives. Just like he would have done." Shouta saw that Hizahis was struggling with tears again and wanted to say something. "I'm sorry," he repeated himself. "I had a feeling you wouldn't be sad at all and would just carry on as before. I'm sorry I misunderstood." He looked down at the floor, embarrassed. He felt like a huge idiot, but now he realized that Hizashi was suffering and grieving just as much as he was.
"I do have one thing to ask you, though," the blond said, now looking down at the ground in his turn. "Would you really have preferred me....." Shouta froze. So the blond had heard after all. Before Hizahsi could even finish his question, Shouta grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him, practically yelling at him, "NO! No, no, no, no! No way! You're my best friend and I couldn't bear to lose you too. Please, you have to believe me." After the first overcome shock, the blond tenderly took Shouta's hands from his shoulders, held them tightly and said, "I believe you. I just needed to hear it from you." He smiled kindly. Shouta's heart swelled and he felt his cheeks grow warm again. Maybe he had just found a good reason to go on.