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Takashi took one glance at Asumi, and with fear in his eyes and his bag in his hands, he did exactly what one would call, "to run for the hills."
"Asumi's a psychic! He's going to kill us!"
His friends did the same.
All around him was broken glass and chairs-- how did you even break chairs? He didn't even know chairs could be broken. He figured they were like electric guitars and ironing boards; he'd never seen one broken, so he figured they couldn't be.
He was proved wrong as he saw the seat of the chair, practically ripped in half.
How…
He figured he might as well get up and take a look around.
His legs felt a bit weak, but he looked, examining his arms and legs and stomach, only feeling the phantom of the pain he was absolutely sure was there a few minutes ago. He stood up, slightly shaky, and got a good look at one of the pieces of chair.
Is it… Is it burnt…?
He ran his finger over the edge. Still warm.
He couldn't for the life of him understand what could've burnt and broken a chair.
He sighed, at the very least relieved that Takashi and his friends were gone.
But the classroom hardly looked like a classroom. It was broken and burnt and horribly displaced, and everybody was gone. The clock, crooked and hanging by a thread, told him that school had ended twenty minutes ago, leading to even more questions.
How long was I asleep? Did I pass out? And how come Takashi ran away? Did he do this? Was he afraid to get in trouble? I can't remember if I saw anything. Kusuo-kun?
…
Where's Kusuo-kun?
He sat down on the floor.
Wait, why did I think of Kusuo-kun just now? He wasn't here and… Well, he's my friend.
…
What's funny is that I can't even remember why we were friends.
It felt like a mean thought to have, but he couldn't.
Oh! Wait! I remember now! There was a rumor…
He remembered a rumor that had never existed, that probably shouldn't have existed, but it existed in his mind and made perfect sense, so he believed it.
But then, where is Kusuo-kun? And why didn't he wait for me? Is he mad at me? Does he think I did this? Takashi thought I did this… And his friends believed him, but…
He looked at a charred piece of chair. No matter how much he willed it to move, it stayed in place.
I'm not a psychic, he thought, slightly disappointed.
But either way, now they think I am. And Kusuo-kun left…
…
Does Kusuo-kun think I'm a psychic too? Was he scared?
No. Because no matter what happened, his beloved Kusuo-kun was never scared. If anything, it's more like "annoyed."
What happened? None of this makes any sense!
And then he started to panic.
Calm down, calm down, calm down, calm down, calm down…
He stayed sitting down, looking at the chair still, running his thumbs over his knuckles.
And then the door opened.
"Asumi-kun? What happened?"
The teacher was mad. He was sure his teacher was mad. He reassured this thought in his mind as crouched beside him.
"Are you alright?" He hovered his hands over his arms, as though he were going to check for bruises. "Are you hurt?"
He couldn't feel the pain that he knew had been there, and he couldn't see or hear Kusuo-kun, and he was always there, and now his teacher was yelling and he was just worried he was just worried he was just worried-
His teacher continued to ask him questions and Asumi couldn't move or think or do anything, really. So he did the one thing he could do.
He cried.
********************
"Asumi's a psychic!"
Grade school was bland.
It had always been dull and monotonous to Asumi, especially because it took most people a lot longer to learn things than it took him. He never understood why he finished his work and others looked at him like he cheated.
He figured it was better than home, at least.
It had only been a day since the incident, but kids were already starting to whisper and make up stories about him and how he almost killed Takashi and his friends.
Though he knew better than anyone that they were incredibly undeserving of the attention, he kept himself quiet with the silent justice of two weeks of cleaning duty.
"Really? And what happened next?"
"Ah, I don't remember so well…"
"Come on , Takashi-kun! You have to remember at least a little! It was getting interesting!"
Takashi chuckled.
"Well, I guess I'll try and see if I remember. Oh, yeah! I remember now!"
How fake.
"I went into the room, and Asumi started yelling and telling us things! We didn't even do anything, so we were trying to get him to stop, but he wasn't listening, and he went crazy and started throwing stuff around! It was nuts! His eyes were glowing red, and he got super strong all of a sudden. We're lucky we made it out," he boasted shamelessly.
"Wow, Takashi-kun! You must've been so brave! I can't belie-"
"He's lying!"
Asumi had had enough.
"Huh? Asumi-kun? But he was saying-"
"No! No, he's wrong! He was lying about everything! He just didn't want to get in trouble! And he still did, so he didn't do a very good job. But I didn't do any of that! He-"
"He's just lying," said Takashi, waving his hand dismissively. "He's a big liar. Right Asumi? Isn't that why you beat us up, huh? Because we told you how much of a liar you were being? Don't you remember? You were going to say bad things about us. You were going to tell the teacher things to get us in trouble, and when we tried to stop you…"
Asumi started to tune him out, focusing on a loose thread on Takashi's shirt and the same five words echoing through his mind.
It's wrong to hit people.
Especially because he knew he wouldn't win.
"...and then your stupid friend tried to-"
"No! Stop it!"
Asumi covered his ears.
"Wha-"
"Kusuo-kun didn't even do anything! And now you're-"
"Asumi-kun? What's going on?"
The teacher walked in and placed his bag on the desk. Takashi sat down and his friends scattered.
"I… Th-They were-! They were saying…"
What am I supposed to tell him? Takashi's already in trouble and he's sitting down. And I…
"Class is about to start, do you feel alright?"
Wait, where's Kusuo-kun? Will he be upset because of Takashi…? Is he late? Kusuo-kun is never late. Did he not want to come today? Did he go on a trip?
"Asumi-kun…?"
Asumi nodded and went to sit down.
The teacher brushed it off and began the lesson as Takashi and a few kids whispered amongst themselves. They continued making up stories and fairy tales of how they almost died. The story changed several times and no one ever noticed.
But at least they stopped talking about Kusuo-kun. Even if he's not here, he'd probably find out about it. But he wouldn't yell at them. Kusuo-kun doesn't yell.
...
Did Kusuo-kun seem sick yesterday? He wasn't coughing… Is that why he left?
His sudden disappearance had messed with his head and his heart more than he could properly recognize at the moment, so it seemed to be the only logical conclusion.
"Well, maybe we should stay away from Asumi, just to be sure…" a girl whispered.
It's okay. I don't care if they don't talk to me. I'm the only one who knows they're all lying. But Kusuo-kun will believe me. I hope he's okay. He could come back tomorrow. So it's fine if they don't talk to me.
He sat up straight and smiled.
********************
"Mother?"
Asumi tapped on his mother's hand. She was sitting in her armchair; a book she most likely would never finish reading was resting in her lap. It was one of the rare occasions that she wasn't asleep or upstairs talking to her husband.
"Touma? Did you need something?"
"I wanted to ask you how long colds last. I remember one time that I had a cold, I only felt sick for a little bit, but another time, I felt sick the whole day. Do they last a long time?"
"Well, they usually only last for a day, but some can last longer. I think the most is almost always two or three days. After that, it goes away, at least for the most part."
"Oh." Asumi nodded and started to walk to his room.
"Touma, how was school? Did you get to talk to your friends?"
Any other day, he would've thought to himself, What friends? but he couldn't anymore.
Now he has Kusuo-kun.
The thought was enough to make him smile and feel a bit of the joy dissipate as he thought about how he might have to wait a few days before seeing him again.
So he hummed and nodded, leaving for his room.
Two or three more days… I can handle that.
********************
School was boring without Kusuo-kun.
The sprinkled hushed whispers of his classmates were annoying.
They continued making up stories and faking absolute nonsense that he couldn't believe no one decided to doubt or call out.
Pure science fiction, he thought it'd become. But he couldn't dispute their claims. His logical, reasonable beliefs had been so quickly obscured and melted away by the incredible, fantastical, horrifying and beautifully unreal supernova that was Kusuo-kun.
The odd sensation of pain fading off into nothing was a pure miracle that he thought no one else would ever get to experience. And even if they did, he wanted it all to himself.
What he couldn't understand was why he made him out to be so much.
Surely those things couldn't happen, didn't happen because they were much too convoluted and nonsensical to have happened. Especially to him, out of all people.
But even the thought and doubt in the back of his mind, the surprisingly enticing confusion and wonder he didn't quite understand was enough.
Because Kusuo-kun didn't have to say anything at all, and they could've had an entire conversation.
He hoped Kusuo-kun could get some good cough syrup.
**********************
School was boring lonely without Kusuo-kun.
It hadn't bothered him much that no one talked to him,really, it didn't, but that was because he had Kusuo-kun. He figured that if only he and Kusuo-kun could be friends for a while, maybe until the end of the school year, or until the end of their lives, he wouldn't need anyone else.
Nobody liked the sandbox.
Everyone stayed out of it, because they didn't like getting messy, and because there was always one person in it.
Saiki.
He sat alone on the sandbox, every day at recess.
In full truth, Asumi didn't like the sandbox much either, but he knew that if he didn't sit with Kusuo-kun, he'd stay in the sandbox, alone in the sandbox, not worrying about it at all. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it most of the time. But then again, he also seemed to enjoy when Asumi played with him.
And still, for some reason, he sat in the sandbox.
It was messy and annoying and it got in his shoes. The sand was too dry to make anything and he was too bored to have fun. It was definitely more fun when Kusuo-kun was there. But maybe it was just because he was his only friend.
It was hard not to glance at Takashi, for some reason.
And every time he did, all he did was grimace and look away. They weren't friends and they never were friends and they never would be. Maybe if he looked again, he would see something other than hatred and blind rage. It shouldn't have mattered to him, really, because even if he had been nice, he wasn't interested in being Takashi's friend.
But he certainly didn't like being hated.
And he didn't like when Kusuo-kun was sick.
*********************
School was completely pointless without Kusuo-kun.
He knew better than to be so dramatic.
Everything and everyone that attacked him and kicked him while he was down hadn't been able to make him act so silly. It was silly, very silly, he thought because he would be back in a few days and it had definitely been too long already.
"Fuchida-sensei?"
Asumi was the only one in the class to call him by his name, honorifics and all, and he would've gotten a kick out of it as usual if it hadn't been for impatient hands drumming on the edge of the desk.
"Is something-"
"Kusuo-kun has been sick at home for a while now. Is he okay? Did his mother say anything? Because he-"
"Oh, Asumi-kun. Saiki-kun transferred schools. He doesn't go here anymore."
Asumi stared down at the floor.
He left? He didn't tell me?
"Was he your friend? I didn't think-"
"Why'd he transfer? What school does he go to now? Why did he-"
"Asumi-kun…" he sighed. "Saiki-kun moved away."
The hardly audible oh that left him surprised even himself.
"Are you alright? I didn't know he was your friend."
Asumi shrugged and sat back down.
He really didn't know if he was alright. His physical body was fine, but… He didn't know what to feel. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel, because he'd never had to feel this way before. Whatever it was, he knew it was bad, and that Kusuo-kun probably could've helped him figure it out.
Did he say anything about moving? Did he tell me he was going to move? Did I not hear him? Was he mad at me? Is that why he didn't tell me?
He thought back to every conversation, every meeting, every little comment and remark and word that he could've possibly said, hoping to find some sort of hint or sign, or something that told him he was going to move. And then he realized…
Kusuo-kun never talked. I was the only one who…
Was that why? Did he finally decide he was sick of him, the same everyone else had been, and left? Did he hate him that much? Did he believe the rumors? Did he think he was a psychic, and that he could hurt him?
No matter what it was, he couldn't think of what it could've been.
Unless…
It was my fault.
He always remembered what days he had certain lessons, a skill that always astounded people, but years later, he couldn't for the life of him remember a single word that was spoken that day.
********************
School didn't really matter anymore, seeing how Asumi didn't go anyway. He wondered if he ever would go to school again.
He definitely shouldn't have been overdramatic.
His head was sad, but he didn't cry. He wondered why he didn't cry. He'd cried whenever he scraped his knee, or had seen a scary movie, but now he'd never see his best friend ever again and he still didn't cry.
He didn't even feel close to crying.
His stomach was sad.
He'd had a stomach ache for 200 years a few days that wouldn't go away. Even his mother was beginning to get worried, but since it wasn't as horrible as when he was really sick, he didn't think it was right to worry her. She'd propped him up on the sofa, fussing about him, protesting his protests, but he stayed there for the remainder of the day, falling asleep there a couple of times.
He didn't mind much, since he didn't sleep well anyway.
It was his fault that Kusuo-kun left, so he figured he deserved the pain suffering stomach ache.
He knew it wasn't. His logic told him that he left because of something else. Maybe his parents moved, and he had to go with them, or that he didn't like the school, or maybe he was getting bullied too and didn't want to have to deal with it.
Or maybe it really was his fault and he was just making excuses. Maybe Fuchida-sensei was wrong. Maybe his mother was wrong. Maybe everyone simply hated him. Maybe it'd be pointless to ever try making friends at all.
Eating felt gross.
He'd been made to eat something by his mother, especially because it'd been three days, but he didn't enjoy it as much as he used to.
There was a small piece of cake he'd had that his mother made that he enjoyed, but he wasn't allowed to enjoy his favorite foods when it was all his fault, so he only ate a small slice. A teeny little slice.
He didn't like sleeping and he didn't like waiting, but he figured it was better than being awake.
********************
School was… Well, if Asumi kept being absent, he could've gotten suspended.
Truth be told, his stomach didn't hurt anymore. It'd been a week, and he'd had plenty of time to get over it. Now it was his head that hurt. He knew lying was wrong, especially to his mother, but he didn't see the point of going to school anymore, if he allowed himself to be dramatic. It should've been fine. It's not like anyone could read his mind or anything.
It was his fault.
It was all his fault Kusuo-kun left. He hated him and he deserved to hate him , since everyone else did anyway. It was silly to think he could have a friend without them getting tired of him eventually. He should've just listened to Takashi.
It had been four hours of school, and no one had said anything.
He'd always heard "no news is good news," but when any other student would be asked if they had died for missing two days of school, he figured this was bad news. But he already knew nobody cared about him.
He knew they were still whispering about him being a psychic. He didn't care enough to try and hear what they were saying; his head hurt too much anyway. And besides, he was too worried as to why nobody cared that Kusuo-kun had left. Maybe his constant chatter drove people away from the both of them.
Now he was staring at the sandbox.
Sand was messy and annoying, and there was no Kusuo-kun to get him into the sandbox in the first place. He figured if he looked at it long enough, recess would be over and it wouldn't matter anyway.
A few kids had bumped into him, complaining that he was in the way, but he didn't care enough to say anything back to them.
Maybe I'm too sad to cry.
It didn't make much sense to him, but then again, nothing about this did, and it hadn't since it started.
His mind kept yelling at him, louder than anyone else ever did, about how it was fault. And even if it felt dramatic, he knew it was. It couldn't have been anyone else's fault.
It was loud, and it was making his stomach hurt again.
And then in a quiet voice, low and hush, he heard the same thing everyone had been telling him for the past week.
'It's not your fault he left. He really liked being your friend.'
It was quiet, but it somehow spoke over the noise. It felt familiar and friendly and warm, something he'd forgotten, maybe never experienced, but recognized nonetheless.
'I promise it's not your fault.'
It was hardly there, but now it was quiet, and it was reiterated in a way, such a strange, peculiar way that this time, he felt he could believe it. Even if it was just a little bit.
And it helped him finally rest.
And it helped him finally rest.