Chapter Text
Kenji watches, frozen, as Ben falls from the monorail.
A scream catches in his throat—
Down, down, down.
Kenji’s heart is beating so, so fast, fear and panic gripping his chest like chains trying to hold him in place.
Darius is there by the window, hand still outstretched as if he could will Ben back just by reaching out.
Kenji’s vision tunnels, and all he can see is Ben.
Unfreeze.
Kenji is suddenly right beside Darius, arm outstretched as if he, too, could save Ben just by sheer will.
Kenji is screaming—Ben’s name, over and over and over.
And suddenly, the world races past. Ben disappears from view—and panic claws up in his chest.
No.
All at once, Kenji is racing through the monorail, towards the back.
He puts his face up against the cool glass, trying to get a glimpse of Ben. But all he can see is darkness.
“No!” Kenji screams, hysterical. “No, no, no, no, no!”
Kenji pounds on the glass until his palms sting, wishing he could rewind just a few seconds—just enough to save Ben.
Again, he sinks to his knees, tears streaking down his face as he sobs.
A thousand what-ifs reel through his mind—each one ending the same. Ben falling. Ben gone. Ben because Kenji didn’t move fast enough.
All of them make Kenji need Ben more.
Kenji’s breaths turn ragged—too fast, too shallow, too broken.
He curls in on himself, unable to stop the tears, the panic, the fear.
His heart is beating—faster. Faster. Faster.
Kenji is trembling so hard he nearly falls over, catching himself on the wall.
And then Kenji realizes what’s happening to him.
A panic attack.
Ben used to have them all the time, and Kenji always helped him through. But Kenji has rarely ever had panic attacks, and they were all when he was a child.
Ben would know how to get him through this.
And then Kenji is crying. Harder.
Sadness floods his mind, drowning out the fear and panic.
Kenji tries to steady his breathing, but it’s hard as he sits there, sobbing. For Ben.
Lost.
Kenji doesn’t know what he’s going to do without Ben.
Ben was the one who was always there—the thin little germaphobe with his nerd pouch and big, beautiful blue eyes.
Ben always understood him.
The fear. The need for safety. The walls he built.
And somehow, Ben saw right through all of it—and stayed anyway.
And so Kenji doesn’t know what he’ll do without Ben right there by his side to give him confidence when he needs it the most.
Like right now.
Kenji feels a hand on his shoulder. Gentle, warm, comforting. Kenji shoves the hand away. He doesn’t want comfort. He wants Ben.
Finally, Kenji steadies his breathing, and musters enough energy to sit up.
He wipes the tears away, feeling weak, and giving himself a new mantra.
Ben has to be alive. Has to be.
Ben is strong, even if he didn’t know it. He has to be alive.
Kenji is suddenly up again, his feet moving as if on autopilot. Back through the monorail. Straight to the others.
Kenji doesn’t know how many minutes they’ve wasted without going back. How long it took for Ben to hit the ground.
Or maybe he was carried away and eaten by the pteranodons.
Don’t think about that.
Kenji marches straight into the room where they all are, silent, mourning.
“We have to go back.”
Darius is still on the floor, head in his hands. He lifts his head to look at Kenji, tears streaming down his face. “He’s dead, Kenji.”
“No!” Kenji yells, louder than he probably should. “You don’t know that. We need to go back.”
“Face it.” Darius says quietly. “He fell from this high up.”
“But what if the pteranodons caught him and flew lower before he was dropped?’’ Kenji protests. “He would live then. He could still be alive.”
“Kenji—” Sammy interrupts, placing a hand on Kenji’s arm.
Kenji whirls on her. “No! You don’t understand. We need to go back. We need to find him.”
Sammy backs away, hand retracting. There’s a horrified expression on her face. One that almost makes Kenji feel bad for yelling. Almost.
Yaz shoots up, angry. She tries to get to Kenji, but stumbles on her bad ankle and almost topples over before Sammy catches her.
“Guys!” Brooklynn yells. “Fighting isn’t helping. We’re all sad and mourning, but we need to focus on getting off this island.”
“No, we need to find Ben! We can’t leave without him.” His voice cracks on Ben’s name, and he hates it—hates how weak it sounds.
Brooklynn’s expression softens as she looks at Kenji.
“Kenji, Ben is dead.”
Kenji doesn’t understand them. Doesn’t understand why they won’t go back. They need to find Ben. He needs to find Ben. Don’t they understand?
No. Of course they don’t.
Because they don’t understand the need. The desperation. What Ben means to him. They don’t. They can’t. They won’t.
Kenji sinks back into a chair, faking defeat. Ben can’t be dead.
Kenji’s mind runs at a million miles per hour, formulating a plan to go find Ben, but pretend he doesn’t care. Because they would restrain him if they knew what he was going to do.
For now, he has to pretend