Chapter Text
It's funny, in a weird fucked up sort of way.
It's funny how, in his "normal" life back home, he'd spend his nights plagued with terror, scratching his skin in his sleep to get out, and wake up with his ears ringing. It's funny how back home he'd sleep late in the day and absentmindedly search for jobs with his laptop on his lap in bed all while knowing that none of this was ever of interest to him. Dead man walking. The future didn't even seem real.
Maybe that was why getting kidnapped and stranded on an island in some sick murder-survival game didn't even seem like a surprise. It was more like a, fuck it, this may as well happen to me kind of instance.
But what was really funny to Keiji was the fact that it took getting kidnapped and stranded and starved to find some actual joy in his life. A small glimmer that he could hold in his hands as a solace when his thoughts plagued him with accusations that there was no saving him. A rope he could hang onto for dear life so that he didn't fall headlong into a pit of spikes. Maybe he didn't want to fall headlong into that pit of spikes, not anymore. Not after meeting this glimmer and tasting hope on his tongue again.
And this was the funny part. This glimmer of hope was a 6'2", silver-haired art teacher who wore chipped glasses and fiddled nervously with his fingers when he talked and who, by all accounts and purposes, seemed like he was the exact opposite of himself.
"Going to bed anytime soon, Keiji?" Mishima woke him from his thoughts, seeming as though he was about to pass him by on his way to the camp they'd set up on the center of the island. "I feel as though I never see you sleep."
Funny. Ha ha. Having someone care about you like this.
"Nah, I try to stay up for a while most nights." How to admit that he had sleep terrors? Hell, he didn't wanna scare the shit out of the kids when he woke up yelling and drenched in sweat. Being hungry helped his mind go to sleep hollow and exhausted, but he didn't like to risk it. "Rather sit on the edge of camp just in case one of those freaky monsters comes by."
"Have you been doing that every night...?" Mishima asked, brows furrowed slightly in concern. Oh, no. Now he stopped in his tracks, standing in the sand, body facing Keiji fully. Keiji knew that look, that stance. The man really looked like a teacher when he made that face.
"Yeah," He couldn't help but admit.
Mishima paused almost sternly a moment before letting out a humored sigh, shaking his head. "Hopeless. Truly hopeless. -- You must rest, Keiji. You're a human being, not a guard dog. Any problem that comes by, we can face together."
Why's he gotta make this hard by caring about me so much? Sure, keeping guard was something Keiji was doing with attention, but it was mostly about the dreams. Pushing himself to the edge of dusk so that the body was too exhausted to even think, and waking up on the hot sand in early afternoon to drown himself back in reality. "-- ah, you're right," Keiji lied, offering him a little smile. "I'll be by in a while, Kaz. You just go on ahead and I'll meet you there."
"You're a terrible liar," Kazumi shot him down point blank, which made Keiji's eyebrows raise in surprise. The teacher smiled.
"Come on," He offered him a hand off the washed-up stone he was sitting on. "Let's go make some coffee by the fire. I'm not feeling particularly tired myself."
With gentle yet silent surprise, Keiji took the man's hand in his own and, with equally surprising strength, allowed himself to be pulled up by the other into a standing position.
It was a few peacefully quiet moments before they were sitting by the small firepit outside of the camp, Mishima leaning over the pot they used to make coffee. Not great stuff, but it was part of what little luxuries they could purchase from Safalin whenever she came by. Keiji watched the man stoke the fire, checking the temperature of the drink to see if it was done or not. How could someone who appeared almost frail be so strong? And how did Kazumi seemingly allow his heart make up the mass of his body and not get hurt?
Keiji was almost expecting the other to begin to give him some kind of talk about the importance of rest, and how needed he was to the kids as one of the strong adults of the camp, how it was important to keep his body in as good a shape as possible for the survival of himself and others. But after a handful of minutes, nothing but silence and the sound of crashing waves and wind blowing through the trees met Keiji's ears. He didn't know why he kept waiting for Kazumi to tell him things he already knew. Finally, Keiji broke the quiet with his voice. "I'm surprised you're makin' coffee and not trying to convince me to sleep, Mr. Professor," Keiji teased, the first truthful thing he had said all night.
Kazumi laughed softly. It was a nice sound, Keiji thought. "Is that how you think of me? -- well, you're not entirely wrong. But I can't force you to do anything, Keiji." Finally, the coffee appeared done. Kazumi worked on pouring them into two mugs, which they had also gotten from Safalin. The professor smiled as he handed the other his portion. "I find that when someone is troubled by things they can't talk about, it's better to simply be with them than attempt to pry them open. If you're going to stay up, I don't want you to stay up alone."
And that's when Keiji noticed, with Kazumi standing close by in the firelight. The professor was tired. His face was almost haggard from physical exhaustion. Yet he sat next to Keiji anyways and allowed him to see it.
"Aw, teach -- don't drink that, come on." Keiji said, worry suddenly clouding his voice. "You're tired, I don't want you to put yourself out for my sake. You should just go to bed."
That's when Kazumi shot Keiji a wry smile. And Keiji knew he had just fallen into a trap. The professor's smile seemed to say: You hypocrite . He was saying to Kazumi exactly what Kazumi was attempting to communicate to him, back.
Slowly, Keiji's face melted from worry to amusement. He grinned back at the professor. "... That was a dirty trick, Kaz."
"Yes, well, some things can't be communicated. You've just got to learn them for yourself." That was one of many things Kazumi had learned about relationships from being a high school teacher. "Cheers, Keiji."
They both drank some coffee, the warmth filling a bit of the hollowness inside their stomachs, and the long night began to set in.