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All humans were good, despite what they had done in the past to make it seem not so. That was what Tatsumi believed, and that was what Tatsumi continued to believe as she stepped up onto that stage in front of hundreds of Reimei students, Kaname following behind her with a nervous yet determined look in his eyes. All God’s creations were good, every small insect molded by His hands, and humans were included in that; though humans have slaughtered and committed acts beyond redemption, they evolve and learn from their past actions. It was why Hell existed—to punish those humans not fit to sing in His choir.
But every human had a chance to redeem themselves. No matter how horrible a thing they’d done, they could still be redeemed in God’s eyes. Tatsumi believed that with her whole heart, her whole belief, her whole soul. She had depended so much on God that it had become almost a fact to her, her belief iron-clad and her will made of steel. She didn’t allow herself to be burnt out by the non-special students’ requests, she didn’t allow herself to sag her shoulders from the workload she took on to make her classmates happy and loved, for she loved all as God would love His creations. Even when deathly sick in the hospital with an IV jammed into her vein, she made it her duty to sign contracts, pay off debts, loan money to those students that she had wanted to make happy. All to make the world equal and fair.
It turned out, as Tatsumi was too late to realize, that the world cannot be changed by one human. She was just one person, though everybody else had seen her as a saint, a God, a prophet, and that was why they loved her. They didn’t love Tatsumi; no, they loved the idea of Tatsumi. The idea of a person so relatable, so kind and gentle with their words and actions, that they’d do anything to make them happier while descending themselves further and further into Satan’s reach. The idea of a person who filled the gap in their hearts, who did whatever it took, no matter the task, to make sure everybody was happy and loved. It sounds cultish, and perhaps it was now that Tatsumi thought about it, but it made her and everybody else genuinely happy, if even for a short amount of time.
With these beliefs, it was so puzzling to Tatsumi why it had all gone downhill. On that stage, she thought she would be able to reach out to those she had wronged, to those who still needed something ( or someone ) to fill their void, and help them understand why her and Kaname’s unit would be a fulfilling answer, the final piece of a puzzle in their unfair, unequal society. It should’ve worked, Tatsumi insisted hundreds of thousands of times as she lay in the hospital, but she couldn’t think up one reason why it hadn’t. It tormented her.
When she watched the students of Reimei climb up onto the stage, grabbing onto Kaname and throwing punch after punch, she wasn’t sure what was happening at first. It was like a light had failed to switch on in her mind, and she couldn’t register how that had happened. They were on stage, so how had the students gotten up here? But then she realized that her and Kaname were only special in the Hell that was Reimei Academy, and that they were not untouchable. It was like her mind was on autopilot when she tried to tug someone off of Kaname, only to be shoved offstage and landing on the carpeted floor, the harsh fall knocking the wind out of her lungs. Her ears rang, and she couldn’t even get up before a kick had met her ribs brutally.
But even during that beating, she still believed there was good in all people. The people who were stomping on her soon-to-be injured leg were just showing their ‘bad’ side, the side of them that came out when they were angry. Tatsumi tried to picture, in her mind, how they acted at home: how they smiled at their mothers, how they played with their younger siblings, how they worked hard to perfect a dance and song, how their love affected those around them. Even this offense of violence could be forgiven and redeemed in God’s eyes, surely.
It was only when she was carried out of Reimei did she see the condition Kaname was in, and that shattered her belief. Seeing Kaname’s beautiful face covered in black bruises, his straight nose crooked, it was almost enough for Tatsumi to ask God why He hadn’t done something. Kaname’s body, which once danced in the bright, artificial lights of Reimei’s practice rooms, was limp and lifeless, and Tatsumi wanted to do nothing but stand up off the gurney and walk over to Kaname to observe the damage they had done to another human. She wanted to turn Kaname over and observe the wings that sprouted from his bruised back, the angel’s halo that sat delicately on his head, and she wanted to bring her hand to Kaname’s chest to feel his once lively heartbeat slow to an irreversible stop, slowing down before reaching Heaven’s gates as he flew up to the angels that welcomed him with open, bearing arms. Tatsumi wanted to hold Kaname in her arms and sink into his conscious, trading her life for his—if he did indeed die and reside in Heaven, then Tatsumi wanted to plead to God to let her sit among the clouds rather than this poor boy who had only wanted to become a star in the eternal sky.
But instead, Tatsumi woke up in bed.
Her eyes shot open, adjusting quickly to the darkness that surrounded her, and her mind was so scrambled that she was unaware that she was inside of ALKALOID ’s dorm, and that the dream she just had was a figment of her paranoid imagination. She could hear herself panting wildly, her heart hammering in her ears, and cold sweat covering her entire body. There was a sharp, pulsing pain that echoed through her bad leg, and she was sure that she was laying on the empty stage of Reimei again.
But she couldn’t be in Reimei. This was ALKALOID ’s dorm, she knew that now. She looked to her right and saw Aira and Hiiro sleeping undisturbed in their separate bunk beds, completely unaware of Tatsumi’s predicament. That meant that Mayoi was in the bunk above her own, and that meant that she was the only one awake, and that meant that she was alone.
She threw the blankets off of her, purposely ignoring how intensely her hands trembled around the fabric, and tried to sit up. An absolutely immobilizing pain erupted throughout her body, like a stab in her back, and she fell back onto the bed and writhed. Somewhere in her mind, she knew that that wasn’t just from her leg, and it was most likely from the distress and panic she was in that caused her body to do that. She laid on her back, her pajamas cold against her skin from the cold sweat dampening it, and let out quiet, pained breaths.
Now that she knew she couldn’t move, her brain was put into panic mode. All the things from her nightmare came to the frontlines of her brain, and she shut her eyes tightly to try and forget about it. She wanted to forget about the angel wings on Kaname’s back, the way her body sank into his, the way her pain was probably nothing compared to Kaname’s own. It was fruitless, though, and Tatsumi couldn’t even remember in the moment that Kaname was in the new dorm sleeping soundly, and that he had recovered from his injuries and was doing well. In fact, her mind jumped to an image of Kaname’s bruised body, and she could feel her throat tighten and the taste of bile rising. She bit it back and clenched the sheets in agony.
There was a shuffling from the bed above hers, but she could barely hear it over the sound of her blood rushing through her ears. She heard the creaking above her, the quick yet quiet sound of feet hitting the floor, and she felt the presence of another person over her.
For a moment, she was deluded into thinking it was Kaname. For only a moment, she could see his sky blue hair behind her closed eyes, the softness of his jaw, the barely noticeable smile on his lips. It should have comforted her, but it instead brought her unexplainable dread. She had a sudden, false thought that she was in a coffin and Kaname was standing over her grave, and that caused her eyes to shoot open.
Tatsumi’s eyes met a pair of teal blue ones, and her distress weaned slightly, though not entirely. It was Mayoi, and of course it was Mayoi—nobody else could be as sneaky as him, she thought absentmindedly. Perhaps it was from years of sneaking around through vents undetected, or maybe it was from that ninja club he had joined a while back. Either way, Tatsumi attempted to smile at Mayoi to no avail.
She was sure it looked nothing like a smile. It probably looked like a grimace instead with the way Mayoi’s eyebrows furrowed with worry. The word ‘worried’ was practically plastered onto the younger man’s face, his sharp teeth nibbling at his lip and his hands propped so that they hung awkwardly at his side. His hair was messy—messier than it usually was, that is, and his eyes gave off the impression that he had just woken up, with the way his gaze would sometimes shift off of Tatsumi and instead down at her clammy hands.
“Tatsumi-san…” Mayoi whispered, obviously being careful not to wake up the other two members. He opened his mouth to say more, but another sharp pain shot through Tatsumi’s leg and caused her to groan. Instinctively ( or maybe from the kindness of his heart, Tatsumi could not tell in the moment ), Mayoi leaned forward quickly and placed one hesitant hand behind Tatsumi’s head and another on her chest, just above her heart, feeling for her erratic heartbeat. It was very fast, Tatsumi knew that much, and it seemed like Mayoi knew, too.
His warm, thin hand slithered down from Tatsumi’s heart to just above her calf. His gaze traveled down to her calf, observing with attentive eyes how it trembled and twitched from the recurrent pain. He worried at his lip and looked back into Tatsumi’s eyes, and the mint-haired woman could almost see how much Mayoi cared about her in his eyes. It sickened Tatsumi for some strange reason, and she suddenly brought a shivering hand to her mouth to stop the bile.
Mayoi must have known what that meant, either from the sound that came from Tatsumi’s throat or for some unknown reason, and he immediately took his hand away from Tatsumi’s thigh and slid it behind Tatsumi’s back.
“I’ll help you to the bathroom,” he assured, voice full of a new sense of courage and the old timidness. He kept his eyes trained on Tatsumi’s face for any further sign of discomfort as he slowly tried to slide Tatsumi out of bed, watching as Tatsumi’s eyes squeezed shut from the pain the movement caused her. The stinging in her leg was enough to make her throw up, but she tried desperately to hold on until they got to the bathroom. Mayoi’s face contorted into that of sympathy and hesitance, and he managed to get Tatsumi’s feet on the ground before letting go of Tatsumi and guiding her arm around his shoulders. “Please, hold on… I’m not that strong, so I can’t pick you up entirely, I’m sorry…” he apologized, guilt thick in his words.
Tatsumi had nothing to say, mostly because she couldn’t muster up any words without the fear that her stomach would flip. She gripped onto the fabric of Mayoi’s jacket, and he lifted her off the bed and let her lean against him for support. The sudden shift from laying to standing had shifted the weight onto her bad leg, and her grip tightened on Mayoi’s shoulder as he walked her to the bathroom as fast as he could. She was sure it hurt him with how her nails dug into the skin. She struggled to make the mental note to apologize later for the bruising she would cause.
Although the bathroom was straight ahead, it seemed to take forever to get there. The second Mayoi flickered the lights on, he let Tatsumi lean against him as his hand maneuvered down behind the taller woman’s knees, attempting to carry her bridal style and gently lay her down on the floor. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, Tatsumi went limp in his hands, and it was relatively easy for him to set her down. Mayoi shut the bathroom door, locking the door with a click and sinking to his knees next to Tatsumi, who sat in front of the toilet bowl.
Tatsumi’s hand was still gripping her mouth, shaking with how hard she was trying not to throw up. The pain mixed with the memories of the nightmare had gotten the best of her, and she looked helplessly down at the water in the toilet. Mayoi gently scooted closer to her, tucking her hair behind her ears hesitantly and holding back her hair as she leaned forward and took her hand off her mouth.
The sounds of retching echoed through the bathroom, and Mayoi had the courtesy to close his eyes while it happened. He placed one hand on the small of Tatsumi’s back to assure her that he was still there, and Tatsumi retched again. This time, hot tears sprung from her eyes and trailed down her cheeks and into the toilet bowl.
Tatsumi coughed and sniffled, lightheaded from how hard she was panting and from how much effort it took to get all of her pain and distress out of her system. Her hands, once gripping the rim of the toilet bowl with an intense grip, loosened and fell to her sides, and Mayoi placed down the lid and flushed the toilet for her. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable; rather, it was sort of comforting for Tatsumi. She had managed to calm down, the pain in her leg no longer bothering her as intensely as before, now reduced a small panging. The memories of her nightmare were beginning to fade now that she could remember that Kaname—well, HiMERU, was safe and sound inside of the other dorm and had not died. He was safe, and Tatsumi silently thanked God for keeping Kaname in His mind, for not abandoning him and for keeping him safe and well. She sighed, exhausted, and very aware of how sticky she felt both from the sweat and from throwing up. The smell of bile was unpleasant to say the least, and she didn’t want to swallow at all. If anything, she wanted to wash her mouth out with water, then mouthwash, then bleach, then water again. She felt dirty and it was uncomfortable.
She had almost forgotten that Mayoi was there, his hand rubbing soothing circles in her back with little expertise. It was obvious that he wasn’t used to comforting others like this, having lived in solitary from what little Tatsumi knew about him, but nevertheless it was nice. She greatly appreciated what Mayoi had done for her, and guilt had begun to seep into her mind and out through her pores, coating her entire being in one thing: regret.
“I’m sorry that I woke you up, Mayoi-san,” her voice was hoarse, her throat having been rubbed raw from earlier. She didn’t sound like her reassuring, kind self; instead, she sounded tired. Very tired. And that startled her, scared her, because she didn’t like to feel tired. She didn’t like letting herself feel exhausted over little things like nightmares, but it was a fact of life that she had to accept, a fact of being human that she had to accept. Exhaustion came with being human. The only beings who didn’t get tired were saints, and God Himself. Tatsumi had to remember that. She silently asked God to forgive her forgetfulness. “I hadn’t meant to. I’m sorry.” she finished.
Mayoi let the hand that was holding Tatsumi’s hair fall, bringing it to his mouth to chew at his gloved thumb. He wasn’t sure what to say, and it showed in the way his eyes shifted from Tatsumi’s face to the toilet to Tatsumi’s face again. Rather than feeling insulted that Mayoi was looking between her and a toilet , she found it rather humorous, and a chuckle got stuck in her throat, figuring that it wasn’t the best time.
He pulled his thumb away from his mouth and shook his head. “I… usually wake up around this time, anyway…” he muttered. He saw how Tatsumi gave him a questioning look and frantically continued. “N-Not for any weird reason! I just can’t sleep well! I always wake up early in the morning before falling back asleep, that’s all I meant!”
Despite herself, Tatsumi chuckled. It came out strained, but it was genuine. She gazed at Mayoi fondly, already having known that Mayoi wasn’t up for any strange reasons. He was unique, definitely, but he wasn’t a bad person. She let a soft smile rest on her lips.
“I didn’t think anything suspicious of it, I assure you,” she sighed, once again aware of how dirty she was. “Oh, dear… I need to shower. I didn’t think about what I’d do after this… how foolish of me.”
Tatsumi couldn’t help but close her eyes and lean against Mayoi slowly. She didn’t want to go through the process of showering, especially without any pain medication readily available, and she was sure it would take at least half an hour to fully shower because of that. The thought of losing sleep over showering almost pained her physically to think about. Her hands hung at her side in defeat.
Though, it seemed that fate had other plans, as one would say, for Mayoi moved his hand that was rubbing soothing circles on her back and rested it atop her shoulder. He was deathly silent, which seemed to be a skill of his, before he mumbled an unconfident ummm and suggested, much to Tatsumi’s hidden relief, “H-How about… I can help you, if you want…?”
It was almost puzzling how kind and offering Mayoi was. He was selfless, much like Tatsumi, but his will was easier to break. He was more skittish and cowardly and much, much more sensitive to rejection than Tatsumi, though given the right environment and attitude, was quick to bounce back. It was clear to see that something had happened in Mayoi’s past to make him think like that: that everything he said, did, and thought was useless and pathetic. Tatsumi wasn’t going to pry, as Mayoi owed her nothing, but she was curious about Mayoi’s past and what had brought Mayoi to think the way he did.
But most of all, along with being selfless, Mayoi was kind, gentle, and caring. He cared so much for ALKALOID , it was something Tatsumi hadn’t seen before at Reimei. He loved his unitmates, even if it sometimes bordered ‘disturbing’ to others, Tatsumi and the others knew that Mayoi just had a unique way of showing his love. Perhaps it was because he had never been able to show love in the past, or he was shown love in more twisted and disturbing ways… or maybe it was just Mayoi being Mayoi.
Tatsumi wanted to know more about Mayoi, but she knew that could wait. She was happy and content enough knowing what she did about Mayoi, and she was alright with it staying that way.
“I’d like that very much,” she nodded. “The pain in my leg has steadily gotten better, so you don’t need to help me get undressed or anything like that.”
Mayoi, flustered, made a squeaky noise from the back of his throat and caused Tatsumi to laugh again.
Quickly, though, he helped Tatsumi stand and sat her down on the toilet lid while he turned around and turned on the shower, taking off his glove to poke his hand through the curtain to feel the temperature of the water and determine if it needs to be hotter or colder. Behind him, Tatsumi took off her clothes and did her best to fold them neatly, placing them all on her lap and then beside her on a small stool that sat beside her. Mayoi had seen her naked before, having once needed help with changing due to her pain flaring up, so she wasn’t too worried about how Mayoi would react. She also didn’t take Mayoi for the kind of person who would treat her differently solely because she was unclothed, especially knowing that Mayoi knew of how she identified. She braced her hand against the wall and stood up, bending her bad leg’s knee to keep pressure off of it.
Mayoi turned around and Tatsumi could see how he jumped upon seeing Tatsumi completely naked, but he immediately untensed and helped Tatsumi get in the shower. It seemed as though sitting in the shower would be a better idea, seeing as Tatsumi’s pain hadn’t completely subsided, so Mayoi had Tatsumi wrap her arm around his shoulders and grabbed just below her knees, this time successfully carrying her bridal style. It must have been strange, Tatsumi thought, having to carry a naked woman into a shower. The thought made her laugh abruptly, which caused Mayoi to fluster as he shifted the curtains out of the way with the back of his arm.
He placed Tatsumi in the shower, asking if the temperature was alright and removing his other glove, tossing it to the side. He must have other pairs , Tatsumi thought to herself as her muscles relaxed under the warm water. She sat there, letting the water wash away the sweat that once coated her skin. She made sure to tilt her head back, the water spraying against her face and washing the bile taste from her lips. She sighed happily.
Beside her, Mayoi sat on his knees outside of the shower, shimmying his jacket off and placing it on the toilet lid. He was wearing a short sleeve underneath it, so he must have been worrying about getting his sleeves wet, which was such an innocent and common thing to worry about that Tatsumi became momentarily awestruck at how normal the two of them were.
Tatsumi went ahead and washed her hair, asking Mayoi to spread the shampoo into her roots. He gladly did, judging by the content face he was making, and Tatsumi washed herself with body wash that smelled like lavender. She also asked Mayoi if he could wash her back, to which he did. It was such a strangely domestic scene, it almost seemed like something that happened everyday. Even though they had only known each other for a few months, they had already become comfortable with one another to the point where helping the other bathe wasn’t even seen as a burden or an issue. Tatsumi’s chest shook with contained laughter.
As Mayoi washed Tatsumi’s back, Tatsumi became lost in thought. Her mind drifted back to Reimei, how those who met in the catacombs had treated her, and she felt extremely self-conscious. Mayoi had mentioned once how, if he prayed, he would pray to her, and back then it seemed more like a joke, but now that she remembered it, it disturbed her. She didn’t want to be prayed to, nor worshiped like a God. The thought made her mind scramble.
“I’m not a saint,” she broke the silence. “Nor a God.”
The way she said it must have seemed sudden and out-of-the-blue to Mayoi, she realized, because the sponge Mayoi was holding slowed down against her back. She worried that she made the moment awkward, or even weird, until Mayoi continued scrubbing her back and said, “You’re not a saint. Or a God.”
When Tatsumi glanced over at the younger man, he was grinning. There was a sort of gleam in his eye, one of both sympathy and assertiveness, which was different to see in Mayoi. Tatsumi couldn’t help but smile as well. “I’m not a saint, nor a God.” she repeated. Laughter bubbled in her chest, floating up and out her throat. “I’m just a human. I’m just Tatsumi Kazehaya.”
Mayoi began laughing solely because Tatsumi started laughing, and the two of them found comfort in laughing with each other. There was nothing funny about what Tatsumi had said, but it seemed so absurd now to say it because it was so obvious . Tatsumi wasn’t someone to be worshiped—she was just a person. Nobody should worship her like one would worship God, because she wasn’t a God. It was so obvious, yet so incredulous. It made Tatsumi giggle to herself even afterwards.
Out of courtesy, Mayoi turned away from Tatsumi as she leaned against the shower and dried off with a towel. He saw the dirty clothes on the stool and decided to put them in the laundry basket outside the bathroom and get some new pajamas for Tatsumi, perhaps out of the goodness of his heart. He went to do that, slowly and silently shutting the bathroom door behind him so as to not wake up the other two, and came back just as Tatsumi finished drying off. He still kept his head low, making sure not to make eye contact with the mint-haired woman as he handed her the new clothing. He did, however, yelp when Tatsumi’s wet hand brushed against his when grabbing the clothes. It made Tatsumi chuckle.
Getting dressed was much easier after having her leg soaked in warm water. She managed to lean against the wall during it all, and she hung up the towel before letting Mayoi know that she was done. They both left the bathroom, shutting off the light before opening the door and creeping back to bed. Mayoi stayed with Tatsumi as she carefully crawled into bed, the feeling of the soft sheets and comforter against her clean skin making her sigh in contentment. She watched, through tired eyes, as Mayoi tiptoed to the sink, filling up a glass of water and grabbing a bottle of painkillers from the cabinet ( freezing up with the wood squeaked as he shut it ) and bringing it to Tatsumi, setting it down on the bedside table. He stayed even while Tatsumi took two pills from the bottle and swallowed them down with the water, and he decided after that that it was time for him to also go to his bunk and sleep. But the absence of Mayoi at Tatsumi’s side was lonely, and Tatsumi reached out to grab Mayoi’s hand, instead only grabbing the purple-haired man’s pointer finger.
“Please stay,” Tatsumi whispered, and that was all Mayoi needed to hear.
The bed was big enough for the both of them, and Mayoi crawled across the bed so that he was laying against the wall, shrouded in darkness. Tatsumi giggled under her breath at how reclusive Mayoi still was.
“I don’t want to disturb you,” was all he said as an answer when Tatsumi asked. It was a little silly, considering he had just bathed Tatsumi, but to each their own, she supposed. She shifted underneath the comforter—a quilt she had brought from home, assorted of multiple different colors and fabrics, some depicting lambs acquainted with the Virgin Mary. She turned to her side, facing Mayoi, and reached out for his gloveless hand.
Unsurprisingly, an unusual sound erupted from the back of Mayoi’s throat at the physical contact, but Tatsumi had learned to find it quite endearing almost. She intertwined their fingers, pretending not to notice the scars that ran all across Mayoi’s thin, boney hands and all the way down his arm, ranging from thin unnoticeable cuts to deep, thick slashes. They were dark against his skin, and Tatsumi’s heart panged for him. She had never known that kind of pain.
She ran her thumb across Mayoi’s knuckles, sighing. “Have you ever heard that otters hold hands when they sleep, so that they don’t drift away from each other in the current?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
Mayoi nodded, his lips turning upwards into a smile at such a cute, heartwarming fact. “I did. Is that… what we’re doing? So we don’t drift away?” he asked. When Tatsumi nodded, he allowed himself to giggle. “Even if I drifted away, I’d still find my way back to you—to ALKALOID .”
The sentiment comforted Tatsumi once more, and she closed her eyes. For no particular reason, she asked, “What if I were a snake dressed as an otter? Would you still hold hands with me, and when you got lost, would you still swim back to me?”
The atmosphere shifted to that of somewhat seriousness, though the lighthearted air was still there. Mayoi’s hold on Tatsumi’s hand tightened.
“Yes,” he mumbled. “Because I would be a snake dressed as an otter, too. But we would both think that the other is an otter, so we would still hold hands and find each other. When we find out that we’re both snakes, it won’t be so bad, because we both have something in common. We would still hold hands in our otter disguises.”
Tatsumi hummed, too tired to think of a genuine response. Mayoi knew what Tatsumi had meant: what if I were actually a bad person, a person who shouldn’t be redeemed? Would you still want to be around me?
Mayoi shifted a bit closer to Tatsumi, closing his eyes as well and keeping his hand intertwined with Tatsumi’s own. “But, sometimes, we’d get out of our otter disguises and just slither in the water. We would wrap our tails around each other instead so we don’t get lost…” he continued, beginning to mutter. “Otter or snake, it wouldn’t matter what we are, because we’d still hold hands… right, Tatsumi-san?”
All Tatsumi could do was mutter, half mumbling and half talking. She focused on how cold Mayoi’s hand was in hers, and she found herself drifting off to sleep.