Itsuki leaned against the wall beside the rooftop entrance; arms crossed tightly as if that alone could keep his thoughts from spilling out, while Nene sat at a nearby desk that had been left untouched once students cleared out for the day.
"None of that made sense," Itsuki said, breaking the silence. "She said, like, a million things in ten seconds and my brain caught maybe three of 'em." He glanced at Nene. "You really think my bro saved her? Like—saved saved? Jumped in front of something, took the hit, that kinda thing?" He rubbed the back of his head, clearly frustrated. "I'm missing way too many pieces here."
Nene shook her head slowly. "I don't know," she admitted. "I know Takumi has a good heart, even if he doesn't show much emotion. But would he really put his life on the line for someone else?" She frowned, tension creeping into her voice. "Just thinking about that being true makes me uneasy. I can't focus."
Itsuki took out a breath and looked away, staring at the doorframe. "Yeah. Same." He clicked his tongue. "I'm not gonna calm down until I know for sure he's okay." His shoulders slumped slightly. "Can't believe I let him go out like that, man. Feels like this are partly on me for not shutting it down harder."
He shook his head. "I'm supposed to be his best bud. I should have tried harder to stop him." A dry laugh escaped from him. "But you know how he is. Once that guy says he's doing something, that's it. Dude locks in like his brain signed a contract. You can't just talk him out of it."
The rooftop door creaked open slowly beside Itsuki, the sound cutting through the quiet. Yuna leaned into view first, peering cautiously around the frame as her eyes swept across the rooftop, making sure no one else was there. Only after a brief moment did she push the door open wider and step out.
Itsuki watched the whole thing, then let out a sharp scoff. "The hell is with all the sneakin'?" He spoke. "You trying to creep us out or something?"
Yuna didn't react to the jab. She stepped fully onto the rooftop, reached back, and closed the door with deliberate care before locking it with a clean, practiced motion—the kind that made it clear she'd done this before.
"I needed to be sure it was just the two of you," she explained evenly. "No extra people. No eavesdroppers."
Itsuki raised one eyebrow; his expression was a mix of disbelief and impatience. He folded his arms back across his chest and fixed his gaze on her. "Yeah, yeah. Fine," he said. "So, stop dancing around it and talk already. You've got a lot of shit to explain."
Nene cut in before the tension could settle; the worry she'd been holding back finally spilling out. "Just tell us," she said, folding her arms tightly against her chest. "Is Takumi safe?"
Yuna hesitated, her expression tightening. "I'm sorry," she said. "I honestly don't know. After he helped me, we split up. We ran in the opposite directions." She took a breath before continuing. "I got away, but I never saw him again. I don't know what happened after that. The fact that he hasn't been at school all day is worrying. It's not normal, and there are too many possibilities—some of them are bad."
That answer set Itsuki off.
He stepped forward, fist clenched, his frustration spilling straight into his words. "Aw hell nah, that ain't right," he snapped. "We been stressin' all damn day thinkin' you had answers, and all you're tellin' us is he might be dead after savin' you?"
He shook his head sharply. "Do you get any idea how bad that pisses me off?" He continued. "That's my boy. My bro. You don't just say shit like that and expect us to be cool with it."
Yuna turned to face Itsuki, her composure steady and controlled, every bit the council student she was. She knew how to keep a conversation from spiraling, even when the subject was unsettling. "Like I said," she began calmly, "I don't know what happened to him. But there are still a few things I need to ask." Her gaze moved between them. "Have either of you ever seen what those monsters look like?"
The question caught both off guards. Nene and Itsuki exchanged a quick glance before Nene simply shrugged, clearly at a loss. Itsuki answered her, his tone blunt and casual. "What the hell you talkin' about?" He spoke. "Those things ain't visible to regular folks. Nobody sees 'em straight. All we ever notice is some weird distortions here and there."
Yuna didn't respond right away. She lowered her gaze slightly, resting a finger beneath her chin as she slipped into thought, silent for a few seconds. "That's about what I expected," she said. "Which means they don't know Takumi could actually see them… unless they're hiding it." The possibilities branched endlessly in her mind, each more troubling than the last.
Slowly, she lifted her head again. Whatever answers she was looking for, it seemed these two might not be the ones who had them.
Yuna didn't keep pushing like she was on some courtroom mission. She stayed calm, but her tone softened, like she was trying to talk with them instead of cornering them. The rooftop wind brushed past, tugging at hair and uniforms, and for a second it almost felt like a normal after-school meeting—until Takumi's absence dragged everything back into place.
"I'm not trying to interrogate you," she said. "I just… don't like blanks."
Nene swallowed, still tense. Itsuki stayed leaning against the wall, arms crossed, trying to look like he didn't care while very clearly caring.
Yuna glanced toward the stairwell door, then back at them. "Yesterday was strange," she said. "Not just what happened later. Even during class, Takumi wasn't acting like himself."
Nene frowned. "You mean the window thing?"
Yuna nodded slightly. "He kept looking out like something was bothering him. I didn't understand it at the time."
Itsuki scoffed, but it wasn't confident. "Taki always looks like he's thinkin' about ten different problems."
"I know," Yuna replied. "That's why it stood out. This wasn't him being quiet. It was… focused."
Nene's fingers tightened around her sleeves. "I noticed it too," she admitted. "But I didn't think it meant anything."
Yuna hesitated, then spoke more gently. "After school, I ran into you two," she said. "And I heard enough to tell something was going on."
Itsuki's jaw flexed. "Yeah, well, you heard me stressin'."
"I did," Yuna said. "And it didn't sound like your normal joking." That made Itsuki look away.
Nene's eyes shifted to him. "Itsuki… did you know he was planning to go out?"
Itsuki exhaled hard through his nose. "I didn't know he'd actually do it," he said. "He talks big sometimes." Yuna kept her voice even. "But you were worried anyway."
Itsuki shrugged, then muttered, "That's my boy. If he's actin' off, I'm gonna notice."
Nene's brow furrowed. "So, you walked with him after school?"
Itsuki paused too long. "Yeah," he admitted. "For a bit. I wasn't gonna let him wander around alone when he was in that mood."
Nene looked stunned. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you'd panic," Itsuki said quickly. "And I was hopin' it was nothing."
Yuna nodded once, like she understood that logic even if she didn't like it. "So, you kept it between you two," she said. "That's what I was trying to figure out."
Itsuki glanced at her. "You got your answer."
Yuna's expression tightened slightly, not angry—more worried than she wanted to show. "Yeah," she said quietly. "And it makes yesterday feel less random."
Nene hugged herself tighter. "And now he's missing."
Itsuki's voice dropped, rougher than before. "Yeah," he said. "And I'm done actin' like that's normal."
"Why would you hide something like that from me, Itsuki?" Nene asked quietly. There was no anger in her tone, only confusion and a faint sense of being pushed outside a circle she thought she belonged to. "I thought we told each other everything."
Itsuki let out a low breath through his nose and folded his arms tighter, turning to stare out over the city below the rooftop. "Girl, what was I supposed to do?" He spoke. "He straight-up asked me not to say nothin'. Not to you, not to anybody. I ain't gonna break my best friend's trust just 'cause it makes things uncomfortable."
Nene frowned. "He asked you to keep it hidden?" She pressed. "Why would he do that? That doesn't make sense. There must be more you're not telling me."
Itsuki didn't answer. His jaw tightened, eyes fixed on the streets far below. The silence wasn't hesitation—it was refusal.
Yuna watched him closely, her expression shifting from uncertainty to quiet realization. When she spoke, her voice was calm and measured. "Then you do know something, Shirai," she said. "Maybe not the whole picture—but enough to notice when things stopped being normal."
Itsuki snapped his gaze back at her. "Now hold on," he warned, his drawl thickening. "Don't start talkin' like you got him all figured out."
"I'm not," Yuna replied evenly. "I'm talking about what I saw last night. The way Takumi moved. The way he reacted. That wasn't hesitation."
That was the moment Itsuki's patience cracked.
"The hell you think you're doin'?" He shot back, stepping forward. "You don't get to stand there and analyze him like he's some kinda problem to solve. That ain't your place."
Nene flinched at his sudden edge.
Itsuki ran a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding through his voice. "I wasn't even with him last night," he continued. "I didn't go out. I didn't see what happened. All I did was notice my boy hadn't been actin' right for a while—and yeah, that worried me. That's called bein' a friend."
Yuna didn't raise her voice. "And that concern is exactly why these matters," she said. "Because something changed before last night."
Itsuki scoffed. "Or maybe he just didn't wanna drag anybody else into his mess," he muttered. "Ever think of that?"
Nene looked between them, unsettled. "Itsuki… are you saying you don't actually know what he can do?"
Itsuki shook his head. "I'm sayin' I didn't ask questions he didn't wanna answer," he said firmly. "That's it."
Yuna exhaled slowly, her posture still composed but her concern no longer hidden. "Then we're all missing pieces," she said. "And Takumi is the one dealing with the consequences."
The rooftop fell quiet again—not tense this time, just heavy.
Itsuki's fist stayed pressed against the wall for a second longer, knuckles whitening, before he pulled it back and shook his hand once like the sting didn't matter. He took a breath—slow, deliberate—then turned fully toward them; his expression set in a way neither of them had seen often. Not loud. Not joking. Just solid.
"Y'all keep talkin' like he's some kinda mystery," he said quietly, softer now, heavier with meaning. "But to me? He's just Takumi. Same dude who never complains, never asks for help, and still somehow ends up helpin' everybody else."
Nene's eyes wavered. "Itsuki…"
"He ain't dead," Itsuki said again, firmer this time, like saying it twice made it law. "I don't care what anybody saw or didn't see last night. That boy does not just disappear. Not without fightin', not without thinkin', not without a reason."
He ran a hand through his hair, then let it fall to his side. "If he ain't here, it's 'cause he's dealin' with somethin' he thinks we shouldn't have to carry. That's how he is. Always puttin' the weight on himself like he's the only one built to hold it."
Nene swallowed hard. "You really trust him that much?"
Itsuki scoffed quietly. "Trust him?" He shook his head. "Girl, I'd bet my whole life on him."
Yuna watched him closely now, no longer guarded, just attentive.
"I don't need proof," Itsuki went on. "I don't need explanations. I know the kinda person he is. I know how he looks when he's scared—and last night, that wasn't fearful. That was resolve."
He looked out over the city again, voice lowering. "So yeah. I'm worried. I'm pissed. I wish he'd listened to me. But I ain't gonna sit here actin' like he's gone just 'cause things got ugly."
His shoulders were squared. "If Takumi's out there, he's survivin'. And when he comes back, I'm gonna be right here, ready to yell at him for scarin' the hell outta us."
Nene blinked rapidly, hugging her arms tighter. "And if he needs help?"
Itsuki turned back to her, eyes steady. "Then he ain't alone," he said without hesitation. "Not now. Not ever."
The wind rolled across the rooftop, cool and steady, and for the first time since the conversation began, the fear loosened its grip—replaced something quieter, stronger.
Yuna listened without interrupting; hands folded neatly in front of her; posture still composed—but her expression hadn't softened in the same way Nene's had. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, careful, and noticeably heavier.
"I understand why you believe that" she said. "Truly. And I respect it." She paused, eyes lowering briefly before lifting again. "But belief doesn't change outcomes."
Itsuki's jaw tightened, though he didn't cut her off.
"I saw what he faced," Yuna continued. "Not any rumors. Not secondhand accounts. I saw it up close. Whatever attacked us last night wasn't something an ordinary person walks away from just because they're determined." Her fingers curled slightly at her side. "People don't survive encounters like that. Not without consequences."
Nene's voice wavered. "But he saved you. That has to mean something."
"It does," Yuna replied quietly. "It means he chose you over himself."
That landed harder than anything she'd said so far.
Itsuki scoffed, sharp, and defensive. "You makin' it sounds like he signed his own damn death certificate."
"I'm being realistic," Yuna said, not unkindly. "In this city, realism keeps people alive. Hope alone doesn't."
She looked out over the rooftops, where the skyline stretched endlessly, indifferent to who vanished and who remained. "If Takumi is alive, then he's in a condition none of us are prepared for. And if he isn't…" She stopped herself, breath steady but controlled. "…then we need to accept that possibility instead of letting it blind us."
Nene shook her head, eyes glossy. "I don't want to accept that."
Yuna turned back to her. "Neither do I," she said honestly. "But I won't lie to you."
Itsuki stepped forward again, anger flaring, but this time it was quieter burning, not explosive. "You talk like he's already gone," he said. "Like you've made peace with it."
Yuna met his gaze, unwavering. "No," she said. "I talk like someone who's seen what those nights take from people."
Her voice softened just a fraction. "I hope you're right, Shirai. I hope he walks back into school tomorrow like nothing happened." She paused. "But until I see him with my own eyes, I won't assume he made it out."
The rooftop fell silent again, the divide between hope and realism stretching thin and painful.
Itsuki clenched his fists. "Then keep your doubts," he said quietly. "I'll keep my faith."
Neither of them looked away. Somewhere between them, Takumi's absence weighed heavier than ever.
Itsuki stopped at the door, glanced back at her just once, and said, "When he comes back, don't apologize for doubting him—just remember who never did."
To be continued...