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Kiryu’s hand is a gentle, steady thing as he wipes at Nirei’s wounds, slowly cleaning them up.
They’re… worse than he thought. Nirei can’t bear to look at himself for too long, but every time Kiryu pulls the cotton pad away from him, it’s soaked in red. He hides each of them quickly, though, as if noticing Nirei’s discomfort. Tsugeura is on his other side, letting Nirei rest his weight on him and squeezing his hand whenever Nirei can’t hold back a hiss of pain.
This seriously sucks.
“Almost done, Nire-chan,” Kiryu promises, opening up another piece of gauze. How many has it been already? Nirei feels bad. They’re depleting Kotoha’s first aid supplies.
He glances over to the other side of the restaurant, where Sakura is sitting on a barstool, Kotoha resting her elbows on the counter behind him. She’s whispering something, but Sakura’s eyes are kept firmly on where Kiryu is patching up his body, watching them like a hawk. There’s an empty, shellshocked expression that hasn’t left his face since Nirei admitted what happened.
Nirei hates to be the one to put him in that state.
“All done,” Kiryu says, shutting the first aid box. He smiles, though it’s a little strained. “Now let’s go home and get some rest, okay?”
“Kiryu-kun…” Tsugeura begins, his eyes already flicking to Sakura. “I don’t know if—”
“Nire-chan needs rest. We can talk more tomorrow.” Despite his relaxed voice, something about his tone leaves no room for argument.
Kiryu shucks his jacket off, resting it over Nirei. His own Furin jacket is currently held by Tsugeura—too bloody and dirty for him to wear it anymore. Then they all stand up, heading towards the door.
“Sakura-chan? We’re leaving.”
Sakura flinches, whipping his head over, as if he didn’t even notice that they’ve moved. Guilt claws up Nirei’s skin as he reaches a feeble hand out, a hoarse call for Sakura tucked in the back of his throat.
When Sakura meets his eye, his hard frown melts away into something more crestfallen.
“I’m okay, Sakura-san!” Nirei rushes to say, a wave of fright washing over him. “Don’t worry about me so much. I can still stand and everything, so I—”
“I’ll walk Nire-chan home,” Kiryu interrupts, patting Sakura’s shoulder. “You should go home too, okay?”
“But—” he and Sakura protest at the same time. They’re silenced when Tsugeura cuts between them, wrapping an arm around Sakura’s shoulders and handing Nirei his jacket back.
“Then I’ll walk Sakura-kun home!” he announces boisterously. “We live in the same direction anyway!” He steers Sakura away, forcing him to turn away from Nirei. Nirei’s veins fill with panic, but he gets distracted when Kiryu links their arms together, tugging him onto the opposite path.
“Thank you, Kotoha-chan!” Kiryu calls, waving at her before shutting the door. He turns to Nirei with a plastered beam. “Now, you’ll have to lead the way, Nire-chan. I don’t really know where you live.”
“Right,” Nirei mutters.
The journey home is silent for the first few minutes. Nirei’s legs feel too weak to support his weight, like his knees are going to give out at any moment. He has to shuffle pathetically along some of the steeper routes and catch way too many breathers. Kiryu’s hold is strong, though, and he’s patient when Nirei has to pause to recover.
He’s so tired. He’s faced ridiculous beatdowns before from old bullies who just wanted to pick a fight, and he’s always managed to drag himself back home after. So he isn’t sure why he can barely breathe without feeling his lungs burning up, like there’s a physical weight pressing down on his ribcage.
“Will…” Eyes trained on the ground, Nirei struggles to speak. “Will Sakura-san be okay?”
Kiryu tenses, his arm tightening by just a minuscule. He turns to Nirei with an unconvincing laugh. “He’ll be just fine! I think he’s more worried about you.”
“I don’t want him to worry about me,” Nirei argues. His eyes are beginning to sting again, but he holds himself back from sniffling. He doesn’t want to be a crybaby. “Sakura-san hasn’t… I haven’t seen that look on his face in a long time.”
It’s my fault, he can’t help but think. If he was stronger, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten beat up so badly. Nirei isn’t daft enough to think that he actually has a chance against someone as well-trained and flawless as Suo, but he refused to back down anyway, and yet he still couldn’t do a thing. He had to call Sakura to save him, only to horrify him on sight.
Nirei hates to see his friends upset. Just when Sakura was doing so well too…
He stumbles over his next step, and Kiryu bends down, holding him before he can fall. Despite his attempted resistance to it, Nirei’s eyes spring with tears again. “Sorry,” he whispers, collapsing to his knees. “I— I need a break.”
Kiryu just hums in agreement, lowering him to the ground before joining him, knees tucked to his chest. They stare out at the empty roads together, listening to the howling wind and watching stray leaves float by. It’s hard to see too—this road isn’t the most well-illuminated, with only a few measly lampposts for light, and Suo used to joke that they have to keep an extra eye out for any dangerous robbers when they cross this area together.
Nirei’s throat closes up. Suo used to be the one to walk him home.
A tissue is suddenly pressed to his cheek, courtesy of Kiryu’s quick fingers. He wipes at Nirei’s tears again, coddling him, and Nirei can’t even bring himself to stop him.
“Kiryu-san…” His voice cracks. “I’m sorry. You didn’t need to chaperone me.”
“Someone has to,” Kiryu replies dryly, and his previously calm exterior breaks. Up this close, Nirei can see the real storm brewing behind his eyes, like a thundercloud waiting to strike.
It feels like everyone is upset. Which Nirei knows is a fair reaction, but still, he wishes they weren’t. He wishes they can go back to a mere three days ago, where everything was still alright and nobody had any bones to pick.
He cries a little harder, and Kiryu kindly presses his face into his chest, letting him soak his shirt.
When Nirei has run out of tears again, Kiryu pipes up, “Oh, Tsuge-chan just texted me. He said Sakura-chan has arrived home, safe and sound!” He pats Nirei’s head. “See? It’ll be alright.”
They’re just empty words. Nothing is alright, but Nirei isn’t sure what he should be worried about the most at the moment. His mind is all frazzled up and there are a million things he feels like he needs to do right now, but all he can do is lean against Kiryu’s shoulder and waste precious time.
“Hey.” Kiryu nudges him, making him look up. “Stop thinking so much. We can’t do anything right now, so just focus on getting rest.”
Isn’t that the worst part? That they can’t do anything?
As if sensing his unvoiced question, Kiryu continues, “If you rest properly, you’ll be able to come to school tomorrow. Then we can tell the class what happened and figure out a plan. Together. Isn’t that better?”
Kiryu says we and together like he’s trying to take some of the burden from Nirei, reminding him that they’re supposed to be a team. Right.
So Nirei nods, and Kiryu gives him a sweet smile in return. Afterwards, he helps Nirei up again, and they make the rest of the journey back home.
At Nirei’s doorstep, he turns to Kiryu, trying to return him his jacket. But Kiryu just shakes his head, pushing it back towards him insistently. “I have more at home. Keep it for now. You can wear it tomorrow too, since your uniform might not dry so fast in this weather.”
“O-Okay,” Nirei agrees, unsure of how to argue. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Call me if you need anything! I’ll steal my father’s car and drive over just for you.” Kiryu winks, and despite the entire situation, it manages to surprise a laugh out of Nirei.
“Okay,” he repeats. “Get home safe too, Kiryu-san.”
Kiryu wiggles his fingers. He stands on the porch until Nirei enters the house and closes the door, and Nirei watches his retreating figure from the window, up until he can’t see his shock of pink hair anymore.
Ah, right. He needs to wash his jacket.