Shishikura’s eyes went glassy, recalling the torture he had witnessed Inasa withstand. Recalling the chains, recalling how he’d screamed… Screamed even after he had been released by death, back into reality. How he, Shishikura Seiji, for all his power, had been utterly powerless to save him. To protect Camie, to keep either of them from being consumed by flames, not even a chance to fight back against their fate.
Camie had been made to spend that weekend alone, with Inasa in the hospital and him put behind bars for those few days, for his attempt to teach the damned Hero Commission-with their impassive stares at Inasa’s torment, their passing off the trauma they were putting adolescents through–a lesson.
He’d never wanted any of that to happen. Not his inability to look out for his friends, not losing his cool at the commission, not abandoning his friends…
He realized suddenly that he was clenching his fists.
Hadn’t meant to do that either…
He let out a shaky breath and tried to relax his fingers.
Instead, he looked over at Camie, sitting next to him. Camie, uncharacteristically quiet and subdued, ever since the orientation. Where normally, she’d be full of energy, chattering away and making references that continued to sail over Shishikura’s head, she seemed sad and… Defeated. Like she felt as helpless as he did.
It made him hate the Commission all the more, for what they’d dared to take from him. From them. All of them.
He tried to relax his hands again, letting one fall next to Camie’s, slender fingers resting over her own.
“If we were to go back,” he murmured gravely, “we’d have to explain why. Now, I don’t know about you but… I don’t know if I can handle both returning early and having to rehash this whole debacle to Mother and Father. Assuming of course, that they even believed it…”