A few seconds passed with no one coming up with a good idea, while Isshun pushed his focus deeper into the monster's insides.
'...Couldn't I teleport this guy's body back together?'
It was a stray thought that Isshun had, and it was undeniably possible.
While Isshun couldn't see individual cells, he could distinguish organs and structures. With how splicing worked, and with the formula he'd modified a while back to allow for perfect welding, it could be done.
But even with that capability, Isshun had never bothered learning anatomy in full.
After all, life-or-death situations didn't happen every day.
Yet now, staring into the creature, the only reason Moriyama was still alive was because being fused with the monster was forcibly supplying his heart with blood and oxygen.
'Damn it!'
Isshun clenched his hand in frustration.
Death was something Isshun was painfully familiar with.
In the middle of college classes and a part-time job, a call that should have been ordinary had announced the deaths of both his parents.
The people who raised him.
The people who loved him.
He had spoken to his mother about what to eat for dinner that night.
He had talked with his father about getting a driver's license.
No goodbyes. No last meeting.
They were gone.
And they weren't coming back.
Isshun knew what it felt like to come home expecting warmth—only to be met with silence.
An empty house far too large for one person.
Days spent without speaking a word.
It hurt.
Nejire had told him about Moriyama on the way here.
About his son.
About how he still played with her, even with dementia.
About how kind he was.
The odds of Moriyama surviving were almost nonexistent.
But did that mean he had to die?
Did Nejire need to experience Death so young?
The kind of parting that comes far too early.
The kind where you go to someone's house to play—only for them to never be there again.
Isshun was just about to make up his mind, even if it meant pushing his Quirk until his head went blank, when Genji spoke.
"...Let's give him a peaceful ending."
Tomoe and Mitsuru turned to Genji in shock.
Before—and even after—Moriyama's dementia, Genji and Moriyama had been inseparable. Best friends in every sense of the word. If anyone wasn't expected to say it, it was Genji.
And yet, Tomoe understood.
Even before Moriyama's condition worsened, every conversation had been painful. Every time Genji went up the mountain to retrieve him, it tore something open.
After all…
That mountain was where they had played as children.
Almost every adult in the village had memories there.
Maybe… before Moriyama forgot everything…
It was better for him to die like this.
Genji grimaced.
Old age brought experience with goodbyes, but—
Being forced to choose between your best friend dying in peace, or living in constant suffering…
There had only ever been one answer.
Isshun looked at Genji, uncertainty tightening his chest.
Even if he could be the executioner, it didn't mean he wanted to be.
Death was a farewell.
'I…'
Before he could finish the thought, Tomoe stepped forward, glaring at Genji.
"Genji," she said sharply. "Are you really prepared to put blood on a child's hands?"
That was enough to make Kako speak up.
She didn't think she had the right to interfere in something as personal as a neighbor's death—but she wouldn't—couldn't—allow that.
"Isshun will not be the one to kill him."
She wrapped her arms around Isshun protectively, while Genzai stepped behind him, steadying his shoulders.
Genji stared, confused—then realization hit him.
"Oh—no," he said quickly. "I'd never ask the kid to do that. Who do you think I am?"
He exhaled, then continued, voice firm.
"What I need to know is—can you keep him still without… whatever you're doing now?"
As long as Isshun maintained the teleportation, it meant he could still see it. That was how Quirks like his usually worked even if he didn't know the specifics.
And Genji didn't want Isshun to witness a farewell.
Isshun gave a hesitant nod.
He could embed it halfway into stone, sink it into the ground, or form a cage.
Embedding it felt wrong.
So instead, he teleported massive tree trunks into place, locking around the monster's limbs. It immobilized the creature while leaving its stomach visible.
Genji studied the makeshift cage and nodded, then turned to Mitsuru.
"Get Saboro."
Mitsuru started to move, but Isshun stopped him.
"He's already here."
From the bushes emerged a rugged old man with a thick beard—and two long antennae jutting from his head.
"Genji."
"Saboro."
Saboro's eyes went to the monster, then back to Genji.
"Is that Moriyama?"
"Yeah," Genji said quietly. "He's inside."
Only Genji and Saboro had the tracker—too expensive for anyone else—and the three of them had been inseparable for years. If Genji decided to say goodbye, it was only right for Saboro to participate.
Saboro walked closer, eyes narrowing as he spotted the deer antlers protruding from the monster's stomach.
He stopped.
After a few seconds, his permanent scowl deepened.
"How'd he end up like this?" Saboro asked.
Genji opened his mouth. "The monster—"
"Obviously the monster ate him, you imbecile," Saboro snapped, then sighed. He glanced at Tomoe. "You're better at this."
Tomoe followed his gaze—to Isshun.
Saboro turned, taking in the scene properly now: two adults, tense and guarded… and a kid standing calmly between them.
The gun on his back didn't help their nerves.
The kid's lack of fear told Saboro everything.
This was the one who helped.
Saboro approached Isshun, then knelt so they were eye-to-eye, his expression softening.
"…Thank you."
--<>--
A/N: I never actually had a family member die on me, so I don't know how it feels, but I was really immersing myself in what I would probably react like, and I was lowkey tearing up. My heart goes out to everyone who has experienced loss in their lives.
So I hope you guys felt the same thing cause I think I did an ok job.
Also, for the people who seem to be okay with just killing willy nilly, yall need to get your brains checked out and I hope you are okay.
Thanks for reading!
--+--
2200PS - Not Complete
4500PS - Not Unlocked