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When Kenji first heard the news, he didn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. He thought it was a joke.
But then the funeral date was announced. Rumours were flying around the school. Someone said he'd had a heart attack. Others said he'd been poisoned. Everyone had been watching in horror when the ambulance arrived, the paramedics racing up the stairs...
It didn't matter. Either way, he was gone.
Kenji wanted to talk to Junpei about it; after all, Junpei and him had been good friends. They'd been in some kind of weird club together, alongside Yukari Takeba and a few others.
But when Kenji tried to talk to Junpei, he just brushed him off. That club had been pretty... secretive. Kenji's recently-deceased friend had never spoken about what they actually did.
Regardless, his death stung. Kenji felt tears welling up in his eyes. A few days ago, he had been telling his friend about the new teachers arriving at Gekkoukan, and his friend had just sighed and laughed. And now he was... gone.
School didn't feel the same anymore. It felt like something was missing.
Kenji couldn't even bring himself to smile and charm one of the newer teachers. After how horribly it had gone last time, what was the point? And back then, he had his friend supporting him anyway.
He'd never felt so alone.
"Hey, Kaz."
Kaz was pulling a hand through his hair. Yuko sat beside him, her brow creased in concern.
"Hey," he greeted half-heartedly.
The two just sat there, in awkward silence. Kaz tried to think of something to say, but it died in his throat. It was hard to be positive anymore.
He stared at his knee. He was doing so much better now, at least physically. Mentally, though, he felt like he'd gone back to square one.
"It doesn't feel real," Yuko said, quietly. "I mean... I was talking to him just a few days ago. I..."
"It's not fair!" Kaz burst out, like a dam that suddenly erupted. "Why did he have to die?! He didn't- he didn't do anything to deserve it!!"
"I know," Yuko sighed, her voice heavy.
Kaz held back tears. He didn't want to start crying again.
"Do you remember when he and I were helping those kids?" Yuko asked.
Kaz nodded.
"Well, that got me thinking about..." Yuko trailed off. "About what it would be like to have children with him... for real." She laughed. "So much for that dream, huh?"
She didn't admit it out loud, but she doubted that dream would've happened even if he hadn't died. As kind as he was, it was clear he was much closer to his dormmates than her. There was something about that group, something that tied them all together, something that always made Yuko feel... not unwelcome, but certainly not somewhere she belonged.
Kaz furrowed his brow. He suddenly reached out, grabbing Yuko's hand. She turned to him, feeling her cheeks burn.
"Uhhh," he started. "Look, I may not be the best with all this, but he was my friend too! And I'm going to keep living, to keep getting stronger, so one day I can face him and tell him how much I've improved. Yuko, you gotta do it too. We have to live our best lives so we can face him at the end, our heads held high!"
Yuko just stared at him. And then she laughed.
"One of the rare times you actually said something smart," she joked.
"Hey!" Kaz complained.
"But you're right," she told him. "We have to keep living. For his sake... and our own. He always supported us, so now we have to return the favour."
Kaz nodded. The two of them kept holding hands, not willing to let go. Right now, the two of them had never needed each other more.
Bebe was sewing when the phone rang. His eyes lit up in surprise and joy when he saw it was a Japanese number.
"Konnichiwa!!" he greeted.
"Hello, André Jean... Uh, Bebe," said the voice on the other end.
"Ono-sensei!" Bebe gasped. "'Ow are you? 'Ow is Nihon?!"
"Yes, yes, it's fine," Ono said, "not as good as the samurai period... but anyway, I digress. I was calling to inform you, just in case you haven't heard the news."
"News?" Bebe asked.
"Yes," Ono replied. "You were friends with that other transfer student, weren't you?"
"My tomodachii!, yes!" Bebe gasped. "I miss 'im so much!"
Ono sighed, deeply.
"... I'm sorry to say this," he said. "But... he passed away a few days ago."
Bebe blinked.
"What?" he asked. "Ono-sensei, I don't understand. Did you say he is..."
"I'm very sorry," Ono repeated. "There will be a special assembly on Saturday. I know it's short notice, but I'll make sure to send a prayer for you."
"B-But he can't be dead!" Bebe sobbed. "My tomadachii! I was going to return to Nihon! We promised!"
"It was very sudden," Ono admitted. "He was relatively healthy up until... anyway. I'm just calling to let you know. I'm... well, all the best, Bebe."
Bebe stared at his phone after Ono hung up. Tears slipped down his cheeks, sobs filling the air. He didn't know what to think. He felt terrible for leaving in the first place. He should've stayed. But... how could he have known that would be the last time he'd ever see his only friend?
Was there even a point going back to Japan anymore? Not when it would be full of painful memories. But he thought about it. His friend had always encouraged him to follow his dreams. His friend had stuck by his side, supporting him and cheering him on.
Bebe nodded. He wouldn't give up yet.
I will return with my newest kimono and visit your grave, he promised. Just wait for your tomodachi.
Mitsuko had been crying for hours after she'd heard the news. Bunkichi stayed by her side, barely holding back his own tears. They'd turned off the dreaded news report, clinging onto each other for support.
"It... it should've been us," Mitsuko sobbed. "He was so young! We're so old. It's not fair, first our son, and now..."
Bunkichi held her in his arms. She was right; it wasn't fair. For neither that young man nor their son. It was strange; the young man had always seemed so healthy despite being a quiet soul, so what happened?
"We should plant something for him," he said. "Maybe a small shrub. We could grow it here, in our shop. That way, it won't get in the way of anyone, but it will still be a memorial. Everyone will know how much he helped us."
Mitsuko wiped her eyes. "A memorial...? For the boy who was there for us..."
"And remember, that dark, scary place I told you about?" Bunkichi asked. "It doesn't make sense, but I know he was there. He saved me."
"Dear, that was just a bad dream," Mitsuko sighed. "We talked about this."
"Whether it was real or not, he was there!" Bunkichi insisted. "He was much more special than we ever knew."
Mitsuko wiped her eyes. He wasn't wrong.
"Yes," she said. "For our young friend... we'll plant something truly special."
There were rumours, muttering. A huge group of people, standing around and talking and yelling and muttering, muttering. Chihiro wanted to ask what all the fuss was about, but her old shyness was creeping up with so many people around.
Then she heard his name.
"What happened?" she asked, turning to a student nearby her.
"Apparently, on the rooftop, a guy's heart stopped beating," he said. "The paramedics just took him away."
Chihiro went pale. "W... what?"
"Yeah," the student said. "Guy from 2-F. I forgot his name, but he has blue hair, and always wears headphones. I've heard there's no chance of survival."
Nonononono-
Chihiro ran away, tears streaming down her cheeks. This had to be a nightmare. She hugged herself, not caring about people staring anymore. It didn't feel real. It couldn't be.
But more and more people were saying his name, until it all became a blur.
What was she supposed to do now? All of her confidence she had grown had been thanks to his help. And now that he was gone...
She collapsed, breathing heavily, sobbing and coughing. She didn't know what to do.
"Fushimi..."
It was Hidetoishi. His lip was twitching.
Chihiro wanted to speak to him, but she just burst into tears. Hidetoishi led her into the Student Council room, where she sobbed into her palms. She stayed there for what could've been hours or minutes.
She didn't want to leave. It was too painful to go outside.
"It's getting dark, Fushimi," Hidetoishi told her. "Everyone else has already gone home."
He was trying to sound calm, but his voice was shaking.
Chihiro sighed. She tried to imagine her beloved beside her, encouraging her and talking to her, just like he always did. He told her to believe in herself, and to have courage. He held her close, in his arms that were no longer there.
She slowly stood up, Hidetoishi watching her with concern. She realised that even if he wasn't there, she still had someone who cared about her. And it was small, but it was enough to get her to finally leave the room.
Maiko had been having a good day, until she saw the news.
She was getting used to her mom's new place, all the sights and smells, and the great new TV she'd gotten. She was glad to see that weird Apathy thing was gone - all the people who'd had it gave her the creeps.
And then the news began talking about the sudden death of a Gekkoukan student.
Surely it couldn't be him, right? Of all the Gekkoukan students-
And there he was, his face plastered on the screen. Maiko just sat there, in shock. And then she fell to her knees, wailing.
Her mom came in. "What's wrong, Maiko?"
Maiko pointed to the TV.
"Oh..." her mother sighed. "He was your friend, wasn't he? I remember."
She kneeled down, holding Maiko close, but Maiko couldn't stop crying.
"Why him?!" she sobbed.
"I'm so sorry," her mom whispered. "Sometimes... terrible things happen, Maiko, and there's nothing we can do about it."
"Like you and Dad, right?" Maiko asked.
Her mom nodded.
Maiko continued to sob. "He was so kind."
"Pray for him, Maiko," her mom told her, "and one day, you'll see him again."
"Okay," Maiko sniffed.
She stared at the bead chain in her hand, squeezing it tightly, as if it was the last piece of his soul.
Keisuke didn't understand.
His kohai had been perfectly healthy whenever they'd spoken. Sure, maybe a little fatigued, but fine otherwise.
Of course, there was that time a crate had fallen on his head - Keisuke's own fault. He'd been careless. Had that caused it? Had that set something off into his kohai's brain that led to his untimely demise?
Either way, Keisuke felt responsible. He'd spent so much time talking about himself and his own issues that he'd barely paid attention to what his friend was going through. If he had, perhaps he'd still be alive.
Keisuke had gone and harassed the members of his friend's dorm - namely Akihiko Sanada, a fellow graduate. However, he just got angry over Keisuke's insistent questioning and nearly punched him in the face.
In the end, Keisuke found himself drawing toward Hidetoishi. His childhood friend was eating lunch alone... well, 'eating'. He'd barely touched his food. He was on the rooftop, which was unusual for him as well.
Keisuke slumped next to him.
"Hey," he greeted.
"What do you want?" Hidetoishi sighed.
"Can't I just say hi?" Keisuke asked.
Hidetoishi suddenly glared at him.
"What was he sick with?" he demanded. "Surely you can't just randomly die out of nowhere, like that. He was an athlete, for God's sake! So, what was it?"
"I don't know!!" Keisuke shouted, standing up. "I've been looking into it - I even asked my dad, but there's no clear answer! It just doesn't make sense!"
Hidetoishi paused, gazing at the mortified expression on Keisuke's face. He sighed.
"Nevermind, forget it," he said. "Clearly, if you can't figure it out, what hope is there for the rest of us?"
"Hidetoishi..." Keisuke trailed off.
"Of all those Neanderthals in the Student Council, he was the only one who truly understood me," Hidetoishi sighed. "And look what happens! I thought this world only preyed on the weak... but even the strong fall as well." He paused. "I swear his dorm mates are hiding something. I tried to ask President Kirijo, but she seemed hesitant to respond."
"They're not the only ones who cared about him," Keisuke muttered.
There was a silence between the two of them. Keisuke breathed heavily.
"Well, either way, you're not alone," he said. "Because we still have each other, Hidetoishi."
Hidetoishi scoffed, faintly blushing. "I suppose so."
"Come on," Keisuke stood up. "Let's walk home together. We haven't done that in years."
Hidetoishi shrugged, before following after his friend.
The most surprising thing about the boy's death was that Tanaka didn't have to fake it.
Sure, he exaggerated his reaction for television using crocodile tears and going on about how the boy was 'like a son to him'. But underneath, he truly did feel that sting of loss. He'd been a good kid. A weirdly mature kid. But still, a child who had known the real him better than any stakeholder.
He visited the young man's grave, cursing at him and claiming that he owed so much to Tanaka.
"But..." Tanaka swallowed. "I suppose I owe you a lot, too. Ha... I can only say that now since you're gone."
He tightened his tie, feeling his eyes burning. He held back a real sob.
"Stupid boy," he muttered. "Always the good ones who have to die. That's why I'm so terrible. I've outlived you by many years."
He used a napkin to dry his eyes.
"I won't see you up there," he said, quietly, "but I hope you'll remember me anyway."
Toriumi sighed, slumping at her desk. She knew Ekoda would give her shit, but she didn't care. She just needed a moment to mourn, dammit.
She took a deep breath. Pain dragged her down. That young man really had turned her life around. And he was gone, just like that.
Weren't they supposed to go out, even if it was just a secret between the two of them? Why did it have to end like this?
She would've taken care of him. She would've been there for him. They could've had a life together.
But instead, she was doomed to teach yet another year of composition, all on her own once more.
Nozomi felt like he was cursed.
He stared at the bowl of ramen in front of him, feeling a terrible sickness brewing inside. He was slumped over the bench. He'd barely eaten, yet he already wanted to vomit.
He wondered if it would have been better if his underling had never met him. He wondered if he would still be alive.
Maybe he was lucky. Maybe he had reached paradise before anyone else had. Maybe he was happy. Maybe he had been reincarnated, and was living in the world he deserved.
Or maybe, he was just dead.
Nozomi's heart clenched. He'd been so cruel to his underling for most of the time he'd known him, and his friend had only responded with patience and understanding. He couldn't even apologise. Or thank him, for that matter. He could've thanked him for the rest of his life.
"Is it off?"
Nozomi stared at the chef.
"You haven't eaten much," the chef said, frowning.
"It's, uh, good," Nozomi assured him, shy of his normal critiques. "It's me... it's just, I think I'm cursed..."
"How could you be cursed?" the chef asked, laughing. "You helped my business. I've done so much better thanks to your input."
Nozomi stared at his large bowl of ramen. He'd just started trying to fix his coping mechanism, and now he was already spiraling down again.
But the chef had a kind look in his eyes, just like his friend had. Nozomi missed his friend's kindness and patience more than ever. But he wasn't the only one who had those traits.
"Could you come up with some more recipes?" The chef asked. "All of them so far have been fantastic."
Nozomi tried to smile. "Sure thing."
Mamoru didn't hear about his death until a few weeks later.
He'd been so swamped up in work and looking after his family, he hadn't even noticed the news-
Until he tried to text him, only to get a message saying that the phone number no longer existed.
Eventually, he managed to get in contact with one of his old rival's friends - Kazuchi, he believed the name was - who explained what had happened.
Mamoru felt terrible for missing the funeral, so he made sure to leave some time available to visit his friend's grave. Once he did, however, he couldn't stop the tears.
"I'm so sorry," he bowed his head. "I've just been so busy. You would understand, right? You'd tell me to keep working hard. You were great like that."
His voice choked up.
"You really helped me out," he sighed. "You were there when I needed a friend most. I can never repay you for that, even if you were still alive. God... the least I could've done was go to your funeral, right?"
He breathed in, a final tear slipping past his cheek.
"Until we meet again."
Another young victim.
Mutatsu sighed, reading over the name and the details. Of course, it was the boy he spoke to in the club. That quiet, yet strangely stubborn boy who was wiser than he looked. That boy was half the reason he was back with his wife and son. He owed him his life, but it was too late now.
All he could do was recite another sutra, and have a toast to the kid's life. Of course, he made none other than XYZ.
So long, kid, Mutatsu drank his cocktail. I said we're all individual, but we're all part of the same picture. Maybe I was wrong, because it feels like you were part of something much bigger. Way bigger than this world.
He didn't cry, but he closed his eyes, and sighed deeply.
...
The most painful part of being a mother was feeling like you failed your child. It wasn't her fault he was sick, it wasn't her fault he died, yet she still felt horribly guilty. It hadn't been a surprise when it eventually happened, but it hurt regardless.
She met the boy who had been Akinari's friend; just like he said, he was kind yet aloof, listening with gentle maturity. She was so glad that her son had managed to make such a good friend who brought even a little happiness to his life.
She was stunned when she heard the boy had passed only a few days after she met him. It was a tragedy, and yet ironic in some ways. While she had been expecting Akinari's death since he was young, she hadn't been expecting his friend's death so suddenly. But whether it was expected or not, nobody could escape the end.
She prayed for the boy, hoping that he and Akinari could meet once more, sitting on a chair just like the one at the shrine, talking about whatever story Akinari was writing next. The two of them had suffered too much, and they deserved a bit of peace.
