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“Why don’t you disappear?!”
The words that leapt out of Asano’s mouth creeped back into Isogai’s mind that night.
In the moment, still filled with the high of winning the pole toppling competition, Isogai had brushed off the words easily. He could see the blazing stress in Asano’s wide eyes and knew that Asano wasn’t actually angry at Isogai, but more so emotional about something else. The words were out of character from the Asano Isogai knows--the boy that helped him organize anti-bullying policies the year before and the boy that stills offers him bread before student council sessions.
Isogai knows that the words shouldn’t mean anything and he had brushed off Maehara’s concern on their way home, but the words returned in the darkness of the night.
His mother’s snores, the awkward position of his arm being hugged in his sister, and the heaviness of his brother’s head on his stomach were keeping Isogai awake. His muscles were still sore from the competition and he wasn’t looking forward to the bruises that would appear on his arms in the next few hours. He wasn’t looking forward to completing the homework he’d been neglecting to prepare for the competition tomorrow morning, or working his shift on Sunday either. He’s sure that his siblings would be annoyed that he couldn’t bring them to the park tomorrow, too.
There was so much to do and the exhaustion Isogai had been ignoring was finally catching up. He wanted to sleep and never wake up again.
It’d be easier, fewer mouths to feed and fewer people to disappoint in the long run.
Isogai knows he shouldn’t be thinking this way-- but he feels so tired.
He has to take care of his siblings, make his mother’s sacrifices mean something, ease the burden on his parents’ shoulders. He has to be a good brother, a good friend, and a good person.
Isogai is only human though. He is so tired. He wants to be selfish, but he knows he can’t.
If he could sleep a few hours and work just a little longer, he could hear his siblings laugh innocently and see his mother smile genuinely more.
Eventually Isogai falls asleep to the ticking clocks. He wakes to bright sunlight and a busy home.
Koro-sensei is gone now and Isogai cannot run away from his responsibilities anymore. His time playing assassin is up and it’s time to face the music.
He guides 3-E through graduation with a smile tinted with sadness, because what Ikemen doesn’t smile encouragingly? He doesn’t fit the brooding role like side characters in dramas do, his class perceives him to be an angel and he can’t bring himself to give them another big change to process.
His mom has been more overbearing since learning the truth behind his last year of middle school. He doesn’t quite know how to feel about it, really. For a month following his graduation, she lets him go out on Saturdays and has neighbors babysit his siblings.
It’s his third Saturday out and he’s spending it with Maehara.
They play at the arcade for only an hour, but it’s enough to make Isogai feel free for the first time in the past two months. He feels relieved to not have to worry about anything for the next few hours. Maehara trips over a table at his house and Isogai laughs until he feels light-headed. He feels like he was a kid without any worries.
Maehara pouts, but there’s a glint to his eyes before he tackles Isogai to the ground and tickles him. Isogai’s laugh starts to hurt before Maehara relents, and allows Isogai to catch his breath.
Isogai tries to get up, but Maehara’s weight on his knees is too heavy.
“C’mon, let up. I need to start cooking dinner.”
Maehara does get up, but not before tickling Isogai’s neck while they walk to the kitchen. Smiling mischievously, Maehara watches Isogai preparing the ingredients. “What are you cooking today?”
“Mmm, I’m making omurice. Kioko-chan wanted it for lunch,” Isogai answered as Maehara washes his hands. “I have work tomorrow. I’m making it for her tonight instead.”
“They don’t know about Koro-sensei, right?” Maehara asks while opening the tupperware of leftover rice.
“Nope, they wouldn’t understand it. Only Mom knows.” Isogai doesn’t look up while cracking the eggs. “The neighbors don’t know I’m 3-E, but they’re curious. Mom’s still trying to avoid their questions. They’ll probably find out soon.”
“It’s not bothering you?” Maehara asks, passing Isogai chopsticks.
“Not really, I don’t care what they think.”
Their conversation halts as Isogai turns on the stove and fry the eggs, but Maehara continues it as soon as Isogai is not distracted. “That’s not what I mean. I just… you… aren’t you angry?”
Isogai finds himself frozen for a moment, before he lowers the heat of the stove. He can’t bring himself to look Maehara in the eye.
Maehara has seen him grieve, holding his hand when he cries as they leave the pseudo-funeral for Koro-sensei at Karasuma-sensei’s house two weeks ago. Maehara knows his sadness more than anyone has, catches his careless words when he’s too careful to pretend.
“No,” Isogai admits truthfully. “I mean, I’m frustrated. I don’t like the way they’re talking about Koro-sensei, either.”
“I just hate the way they’re painting him as a monster. They won’t listen to us and he can’t even defend himself. How can they judge him without really knowing him? Why are they ignoring the truth?”
Isogai knows exactly the source of Maehara’s anger, so he listens while cooking. Maehara will always be upset about someone not being heard and being misrepresented.
Under different circumstances, Isogai would add more to the conversation with tidbits of sociology and try to build hope for his best friend to believe in. Under these circumstances, Isogai is too tired to think. He can’t bring himself to give his best friend hope he doesn’t have.
Isogai knows there is an underlying disappointment to his grief. Koro-sensei had given him a year of childhood he will never have again, letting himself play assassin in training as if his issues weren’t waiting for him at home. Koro-sensei had given him a temporary escape, a fantasy to believe in. What middle-school student gets assassins as teachers?
If it weren’t for Koro-sensei, his life would never have changed. Isogai would never have known life could be better. Maehara and the rest of 3-E wouldn’t have known teachers as amazing as Koro-sensei existed. Isogai can’t help the underlying resentment and it just makes him even more tired.
Maehara eventually runs out of words and Isogai lets his best friend cling to him from behind with shaking fingers. Maehara doesn’t cry, but Isogai hugs him anyway.
“It’ll be okay,” he whispers while rubbing circles at Maehara’s back.
Isogai might have been needing the hug more than Maehara does. He hates being selfish, but Maehara has always been able to make being selfish somehow feel selfless and being selfless feel selfish.
They set the table, before picking up his siblings next door.
They’ve woken up to reality, but are still playing pretend. Isogai wonders if they are more child or adult.
Without Koro-sensei, Isogai has to act like a leader and can’t bring himself to entrust the safety of his class to adults. Bitch-sensei has her own demons to battle first and Karasuma-sensei was too busy handling the media fiasco for five months. The government and school passively let his classmates be in danger for months, so he can’t bring himself to trust authority.
Isogai plays his role well every Friday for a year, where they all catch up and talk about Koro-sensei. He listens to each 3-E member individually, searching out for cracks for him to hold together so they won’t collapse before their wounds heal. He would send texts daily too if he could, but he doesn’t have enough text minutes or data to do so.
He can’t be there for everyone, not in the way they need him to be-- not in the way that Koro-sensei had been able to. He’s not superhuman after all. Yet, Isogai tries anyway. He learns more about those willing to open up, like Itona or Kataoka. He gives space to those who need it, but he makes sure they never distance themselves from their friends. Terasaka barely answers him, but he’s glued to his best friends. Kayano worries him more, but she still regularly talks to Nagisa so he thinks everything might be okay for now.
By his second year of highschool, all of 3-E has settled into the new normal and his own highschool’s curiosity of Kunigigaoka has died down.
“Yuuma,” his best friend whines at Isogai. “Don’t be a scaredy-cat.”
Maehara’s house is empty besides the two of them. They finished skype calling Maehara’s father, who was on a business trip, and said goodnight to the neighbor checking up on them hours before.
They’d done their annual routine for Maehara’s birthday--blowing the candles on the birthday cake Maehara’s father bought, Isogai giving Maehara his present to open later, and making a meal from a new recipe. This year it was curry. This year, Maehara had another addition.
Isogai looks at the sake in Maehara’s hand, which his best friend took from his dad’s stock. There's only half a bottle left, but they have yet to taste any of it.
After a moment of hesitation, Isogai downed the cup of sake Maehara offered. It had been a stressful week and he’d just submitted a late assignment, he wanted to just forget for a few hours.
Maehara had a wide grin watching him, before taking his own shot. Maehara sputtered a little, but re-filled their cups after he recovered.
They’d chatted for a while, snacking on a bag of potato chips. Isogai wasn’t sure how much time passed, but soon the bottle of sake was empty and he found himself on Maehara’s bed. They stumbled from the kitchen, but thankfully no glass was shattered.
Isogai had always liked Maehara’s home, which was always more peaceful than Isogai’s home, giving them more time to talk. Snuggled together in Maehara’s bed, the conversation shifted onto Maehara’s recent break up.
“Y-you’re sure I did the right thing?” Maehara’s voice was softer now, as if he had to hide his vulnerabilities from the walls surrounding them.
Isogai answered with the same level of quietness, “Yeah. She was hurting you, even if she didn’t mean to. You tried, but the relationship wasn’t working. You can’t force yourself to feel something you don’t.”
Maehara squeezes Isogai’s hand, but he sees the lingering uncertainty in Maehara’s eyes. Isogai tries to reassure him, saying, “If she really cares about you, she’ll understand. She knows you value her as a friend. You can’t hurt yourself to help others. No one survives that way.”
Since highschool, Maehara had been dating fewer people and even had two serious relationships. This last one had started the same way a few of Maehara’s failed relationships had, a girl would develop feelings for him while Maehara only thought of her as a friend. He’d feel bad and give the relationship a shot, but no romantic feelings would develop on his end. Except for a few exceptions, the relationship would become difficult on both sides
Maehara broke up with his girlfriend last week, after she had pressured him to open up and be more serious with the relationship. Isogai had been worried for his best friend, seeing the toll the relationship was taking on him.
“I could say the same about you,” Maehara said after awhile. There was a shift in the way he was looking at Isogai, like he was seeing into the depths of Isogai’s soul.
“What do you mean?” Isogai asked quietly, confused.
“You shouldn’t push yourself so much. Don’t die on me,” Maehara replied. Maehara’s stare fixated on his best friend. For a moment, Isogai was breathless and feared his best friend knew his darkest of secrets. “Don’t overwork yourself.”
Isogai ripped his eyes away from Maehara, looking at their clasped hands instead. He hoped Maehara couldn’t hear his heartbeat despite being so close.
“I know,” Isogai said quickly. He finds the bravery to look into Maehara’s eyes as he lies. “I won’t.”
They talk more and Maehara seems to accept his break up. Eventually the emotional rollercoaster the two best friends had been going through seeped in and they both fall asleep as teenagers.
“Why’d you say no, Yuu?” Maehara asks Isogai when he returns from the roof where he just rejected another admirer.
“I don’t really have time, between work and college applications,” Isogai replies in a rehearsed tone. “It wouldn’t be fair to her.”
“No other reason?” Maehara has the same strange shine to his eye that has been popping up the past few months.
Isogai shakes his head with a tired smile, “I prefer spending my free time with you anyways.”
“Do you like her?” Maehara’s voice has a persistent tone to it.
Isogai shakes his head and plops his head on Maehara’s desk. There’s only a few people in the classroom, making it quiet enough to fall asleep.
“You okay?” Maehara’s voice comes softer and somehow it makes Isogai feel more relaxed than awake.
“Mhm…”
It had been a long day for Isogai, with the rejection letters weighing down on his shoulders. There are still so many tasks to do-- preparing for the student council meeting, checking his scholarship applications, bringing his brother to the dentist, homework he hasn’t started on, and so much more.
Breathing feels too hard, he wants to cry… but he’s also too tired to cry.
“Just sleep… I’ll wake you up when class starts,” Maehara’s voice washes over him in gentle waves and brings a calmness to Isogai’s heart. Maehara's hand brushes through Isogai's hair with practiced fingers.
Isogai moves his arm so he can’t hear the tic toc of his watch. “Thanks, Hiro.”
Some days, Isogai wants to sleep forever. Today, he wouldn’t mind waking up to Maehara's voice.
“...You just always look so put together,” his classmate had said yesterday after giving Isogai his exam he couldn’t collect that seemed to bleed with red ink. It had been a difficult week and Isogai was feeling trapped in his own head.
It’s a little over midnight, but Isogai finds himself wide awake as he leans at the door leading out of the roof. The university has been quiet for hours and the flickering campus lights have been Isogai’s only company for the past hour.
He wants to call Maehara, but he can’t bring himself to reach for the phone in his pocket.
Maehara lives hours away, studying abroad. Isogai can’t help but wonder if his best friend was running away.
During their last year of highschool, Maehara had stopped dating and was focused on his studies. He seemed to be passionate to pursue a career as a translator, hoping to understand and communicate with people without barriers.
There was a confidence in Maehara now that had been missing since his mother passed away. He seemed to stop seeking the validation he craved from his girlfriends.
Even so, it seemed like Tokyo held too many ghosts for Maehara.
In his other pocket, the pack of cigarettes Isogai bought impulsively sits heavy. His hand brushes the torn up plastic jacket of the paper box. He listens to the temptation to pull out one stick and he plays with the fragile cigarette in his hand. He is smelling the tobacco of the cigarette when he remembers that he doesn’t have a lighter.
The frustration that has been an undercurrent to Isogai the past week builds and his hands wrap harshly around the cigarette until the white paper becomes loose because of the sweat on his fingers.
Isogai has always hated smoking, it was an unhealthy passtime and a constant leak to one's finances. He also associates it with a father that gambled away his family of their future, but the logical reasons to despise it still stands true.
It’s selfish, Isogai knows, and maybe that’s why he bought the pack. He wants to release the stress the same way his father and Maehara does, craves the way their shoulders relax after a few breaths. If Maehara were here, he would ask Maehara to teach him how to make the rings of smoke that used to make Isogai smile.
Maehara isn’t here and Isogai is instead alone with his thoughts.
There are times Isogai feels guilty about his friendship with Maehara. A lot of Isogai’s teachers used to worry about Maehara taking advantage of Isogai. By now, Isogai knows that it is only partially true.
Isogai is as much of a good influence on Maehara as Maehara is a bad influence on Isogai.
Maehara likes the consistent attention Isogai will always give him. Maehara enjoys the discipline Isogai enforces and being taken care of. In return, Isogai lets himself feel relaxed around Maehara and has his teenage rebellion in smaller doses. Maehara is the only person to accept Isogai as a person with flaws and in spite of them, the only person to never ask for more from Isogai.
It’s another reason Isogai feels so guilty. He is in love with Maehara.
His dreams return to their highschool days, gives him the chance to give his best friend the second top button of his highschool uniform, imagining a future where he could have followed Maehara travelling around the world.
Isogai always wakes up feeling more empty after those dreams. He had chickened out of confessing last year and he will never be able to travel freely like Maehara. He will never ask Maehara to stay for him either. He cannot be selfish.
He cannot complicate his friendship with Maehara, when it’s the one thing that keeps him going. He cannot complicate his sibling’s life by liking a boy. He cannot fail a semester, so he needs to schedule his re-sit exam and figure out more time to study. He cannot continue feeling so aimless because he needs to get a stable government position as quickly as possible and earn a stable income that can help with his siblings’ own education.
His family needs him. His siblings need a good role model and his parents need a respectable son.
He knows what he needs, he knows what he has to do, but he’s so tired .
He’s worked hard for years now, doing what his family needed him to do. He worked hard at school, followed the best career path--
Yet, he hasn’t been living.
He stopped doing sports so he could have more shifts at work, he stopped learning music so he could study to stay ahead in class, and he stopped caring about his interests some time in between.
The highs of succeeding and the heaviness of failure pull his emotions into so many different directions, he can’t bring himself to care anymore.
He doesn’t quite know who he is anymore.
Who is he beyond his responsibilities?
He’s a son, a brother, a student, a Japanese citizen-- but who is he beyond that? He loves his family, his favorite fruit is strawberry, his favorite food is ramen, he prefers animated movies, but what kind of person doesn’t have any hobbies or interests? Is he still human if all he does in his life is work?
Isogai isn’t ambitious and he’s always been level-headed about his chances, but had he never given himself a chance to do something more?
Not for the first time, Isogai wishes he could be a kid again. He wishes he could be by Maehara’s side, play and make up for the childhood he’s lost. He wishes he had a second chance to relive his childhood and his favorite moments. He wishes he could go back to playing assassins and not be sure if tomorrow and the reality it promises to bring will ever come for him.
Isogai is exhausted , but he can’t sleep. He won’t choose to sleep forever.
Instead, he calls Maehara at 3 AM.
He expects the dial tone to be interrupted by the voicemail, not Maehara saying “Hello?”
“Hey,” Isogai replies in a relaxed tone despite the aching in his chest from hearing Maehara’s voice.
“Hey, everything okay?” Maehara says slowly with sleepiness that permeates through the phone.
“Yeah,” Isogai lies easily, but his voice is shakier than he liked. “I’m sorry for calling you so late… I-I just… I missed you.”
“It’s okay, I told you to call me anytime. We’re best friends, so don’t feel bad about calling… I miss you too.”
“Still, I’m sorry for waking you up.”
“It’s fine , I was just taking a nap. It’s the weekend, so I can stay up as long as I want. How are you?”
“I’m fine, I just couldn’t sleep.” Isogai hopes Maehara can’t hear heavy sighs between his words.
“What’s wrong? Something bothering you?” There’s concern coating his words and Isogai finds himself feeling touched. It’s the small warmth that resembles his mom’s warm hugs, but it feels even more special because it’s Maehara.
Isogai won’t bring himself to burden Maehara and he cannot quite explain the exhaustion or turmoil he has been feeling for a while. Isogai knows there’s something wrong, something going on with himself in his heart or brain, but it’s difficult to pinpoint and even harder to explain.
Instead, he tells Maehara about his bad week and the tangible things that have been bringing him down that he can explain. Maehara listens to him and talks him through ways to solve his problems simply. Maehara doesn’t touch on any of the emotionally heavy things, but it’s enough to help Isogai cry silently in unexplainable relief. Isogai thanks him and Maehara fills him with reassurance to the point he can feel himself relax.
The conversation drifts through many topics, from his siblings to Maehara’s hilarious cooking accidents. Isogai finds himself holding back laughter and smiling so wide, his cheeks hurt. He’s advising Maehara on how to talk to his annoying roommate about the mess in his room and how to muster up the courage to kill cockroaches without Isogai’s help.
“Don’t let the fear freeze you. It’ll be easier than you think.”
“Yeah, you’re right…” Maehara responds but there’s a silence that follows that Isogai doesn’t feel the need to fill.
Isogai hopes Maehara hasn’t fallen asleep though. “Hiro, you still there?”
“Yeah, Yuu,” he answers quickly. There’s a palpable hesitation to his voice and Isogai can tell Maehara is formulating a question in his mind so he waits for Maehara to phrase the question.
“Um… Yuu, I-uh. I ask you something, but... promise me you won’t think of me any differently?”
Isogai feels himself becoming curious and answers, “Yeah, of course, Hiro.”
“I like you… I really like you, in the romantic sense.”
Isogai grows still, he wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t know Maehara even liked guys. His heart beats faster and he’s still trying to respond when Maehara’s voice comes back.
“Do you like me?”
For a moment, Isogai wants to lie. He doesn’t want to risk everything with Maehara, he needs everything to stay the same.
Yet… Maehara can make his selfishness feel like selfless and his selflessness feel selfish. Or really, Maehara reminds him that there is more to life than sacrifices and consequences.
Maehara makes him happier. Maybe what he wants and what he needs can be the same thing.
“Yes.”
Isogai walks home as the sun rises and greets his mother at the door. The frown on her face slips away after a few seconds before she asks him, “Got a lot of studying done?”
He nods without much thought and he can’t bring himself to tone down the smile on his face. He faces the day with new energy.
He knows the weight of the exhaustion he’s felt might come back at any moment, but he doesn’t mind growing up when there are times when he feels like he’s living a dream.
He loves waking up to his family and Maehara.