Had it really happened?

Even now, Sugi wasn't sure. Three mysterious students whirling in, single-handedly revamping a failing school and turning every scrap teacher around before vanishing just as abruptly as they'd come...if it hadn't been for the class photo which had pride of place on his bookshelf and which included those three in it, he might have thought he'd imagined the whole thing, or at least that his memory was playing tricks on him.

There wasn't even any trace of them in the school files. Sugi suspected that was Irie's doing and he'd cursed himself several times for not taking a copy when he'd had the chance. Right now, wherever Takasugi and the other two were, they obviously didn't want anyone to know.  

He still kept his eyes out though, kept looking around for any sign of the trio. One time he was sure he'd caught sight of Irie, only to have him disappear as soon as he looked again. 

And so the days had turned into weeks and the weeks into months and the only possible sign anyone had that the three students were still out there had been that surprise fireworks display during the Christmas party. In the meantime, there were classes to give, students to look after, and when that was all over, Sugi thought as he examined the contents of his fridge with a certain amount of satisfaction, there was beer to drink. For once, he'd got everything done that he needed to - in fact, he was a little ahead of himself - and so he'd decided to treat himself to a beer and a movie before going to bed.

He picked up his computer, plugged in the headphones and carried it through to what he fondly called the living room, but which was in fact the lounge and kitchen combined and not really large enough for either. It was big enough for a couch though, and Sugi sat himself down and chose one of the movies on iTunes that he'd bought ages ago and hadn't gotten around to watching yet.

Half a minute into the opening credits, he realized he'd forgotten his beer. 

Sugi paused the video, carefully set the computer on the floor, went into the kitchen and got a beer from the fridge and returned to the couch. Somehow, he managed to arrange things so that the computer was safely on his lap, the earphones were firmly in his ears and he could move the mouse and drink his beer without spilling it everywhere. Satisfied there was nothing more lacking, he settled in and started his movie again.

Two seconds later, the doorbell rang.

At first Sugi ignored it, then it rang again. And again. And again, this time accompanied by a muffled thumping sound which suggested his mystery caller was trying to kick down the door.

"Alright, alright!" If it was Kataoka's mother, Sugi thought he'd just slam the door in her face and to hell with the consequences. It didn't matter that it was currently raining hard enough to flood every river in Tokyo; Kataoka was about as demanding a parent as they came, and besides, coming to a teacher's apartment was a step too far for any parent in Sugi's opinion. Coming to a teacher's apartment at nearly midnight was simply adding insult to injury.

Fumbling with the chain, he pulled the door open.

"Who—" he began before seeing the person on the other side and feeling the words die in his throat.

Takasugi stood there, soaked to the skin and dripping water, carrying a barely conscious and equally drenched Yoshida in his arms. There was a wild light in his eyes that Sugi had never seen there before. If it wasn't too crazy to imagine, he would have said the boy looked desperate.

He knew he ought to do something, say something, but the shock at this sudden reunion was so great that all he could do was stand there and gawk.

"How—" he began.

That was as far as he got before Takasugi Yoshida into his arms. "Look after him and don't tell anyone he's here!"

"What—"

"Not your students, not the other teachers, not anyone! And don't even think of calling an ambulance!"

"Why—"

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

"When—"

"Do not hand him over to anyone except me or Irie, no matter what they tell you!"

"Where—"

Takasugi slammed the front door and for a few minutes all Sugi could do was stare at it stupidly. The whole thing was so surreal that he was seriously wondering whether he was asleep or awake.

He didn't wonder for long, however, as at that point Yoshida's chest hitched once or twice and he threw up.

"Whoa, okay! Okay." Sugi half carried, half supported Yoshida into the bathroom at high speed and pushed him down in front of the toilet, one hand on his back, the other under his chest to support his weight as the boy retched. "Go on, get it all up."

It turned out that there was a lot to come up, to the point where Yoshida was pale and fighting for breath at the end of it all, and just lay there completely limp in Sugi's arms.

"There you go." Sugi flushed the toilet, used the water from the faucet to soak the hand towel and gently sponged Yoshida's face with it. "You poor kid."

"It hurts!" Yoshida's voice was a bare croak.

"Ssh. I know. I know. Do you still feel sick?"

Yoshida shook his head, then winced as the motion sent pain exploding through his skull. His lungs felt stifled and his entire body was refusing to respond to his orders, like someone had pulled out all his bones and turned his muscles to wet sand for good measure. He couldn't move, could barely focus. Sugi could do whatever he wanted, right up to grabbing a hammer and splitting Yoshida's head open and the latter knew he would be powerless to prevent it.

"Alright, good. Come on. Let's get you to bed."

"No. I have to...to..." Yoshida couldn't think of the word and so he just gestured down in the vague direction of his groin.

Sugi hesitated, then said as delicately as he could, "Actually, uh, you don't."

Yoshida stared at him, seemingly uncomprehending. Sugi cut his eyes downwards to where there was a sizable stain on the front of Yoshida's pants.

"I think when you were throwing up, well, the strain involved on your body..." Sugi let the words trail off. "It's not surprising you didn't notice. I probably wouldn't have done if I'd been you."

Yoshida squeezed his eyes shut, crimson with humiliation, and mumbled something that Sugi was tactful enough not to hear.

"Yoshida, if I help you into the shower, do you think you can clean yourself up? I'll wash your clothes – all your clothes – and you can borrow one of my shirts to sleep in until they're dry."

Yoshida nodded once without opening his eyes.

"Come on then." Sugi lifted Yoshida onto his feet and took him through into the shower. "The water's set to twenty three degrees but you can adjust it if you like. Use any soap and hair products you want."

He set Yoshida carefully down on the floor and reached down, intending to help him off with his shirt, but Yoshida put up a warding hand and looked at him.

"I'm not going to put on a strip show for you, sensei."

Sugi rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll put a towel outside and wait for you in the kitchen, but if you're not out in fifteen minutes, I'm coming in to check on you. You're still very weak."

"I'll be okay."

"Maybe you will, but you're not okay now. Fifteen minutes. I'll knock before coming in. You can put your clothes outside."

Yoshida didn't answer, just stood there and waited until Sugi had left before removing his clothes and dropping them carefully outside the shower. That done, he closed the door and the shower very slowly, because moving fast made the dizziness unbearable. That was okay though. He wanted to savor this. He hadn't been able to shower in almost a fortnight, maybe even longer, and he suspected it wasn't just concern for his dignity that had led Sugi to suggest it.

Instead of standing, Yoshida sat crosslegged and leaned sideways against the bath for support. That was better. Hot water, clean water...he could stay like this forever. Fifteen minutes wasn't long enough. Fifteen damn hours wouldn't have been long enough. He didn't have the strength to soap himself but that didn't matter; even just sitting under the water and thawing his frozen body felt good.

He reached up with one hand and sluiced water over his hair, then fumbled around until he located a pump bottle and squirted a liberal amount straight onto the top of his head, not caring if it was shampoo, conditioner or shaving cream.

Should he risk a bath? Yoshida gave the covered tub a longing glance, then looked away. Better not. It would be wonderful but it would also be too easy to fall asleep and if Sugi made good on his threat to come in...no.

He leaned back and let his eyes drift closed. Not to sleep, of course, oh no, only to rest for a moment, or maybe two or three...

The soft click of the shower door jerked Yoshida awake just in time to come face to face with Sugi's appalled expression. Instinctively he tried to cover himself up, wrapping his arms around his chest, but it was already too late.

"Fifteen minutes already?" he asked, striving for a light tone.

"Yoshida?" Sugi's voice was very soft but his eyes never left the boy's body.

"Time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it?" Yoshida attempted a smile to go with the light tone. It didn't quite come off.

Sugi didn't answer; instead he stepped into the shower and turned the water off, then crouched down in front of Yoshida, taking hold of his hands.

"Yoshida, who did this to you?"

Yoshida lowered his gaze. "It's nothing, sensei. Please don't worry about it."

"That's far from nothing!" Sugi shook his head, unable to take his eyes off the horrific bruises and lacerations that covered Yoshida's torso, to the point where there didn't seem to be more than a few centimeters of unmarked flesh. "What kind of monster would do this to a child?"

Yoshida's shoulders hunched, and he didn't answer.

"How did it happen? I've seen the three of you take out an entire gang by yourselves before now!"

"Sensei, please." Yoshida pulled his hands out of Sugi's grasp and drew back, bringing his knees up to cover his chest. "I'm tired. I want to sleep."

It was an excuse and they both knew it, but it was also probably true, and Sugi was well aware that pressing Yoshida now would only make him clam up tighter.

"Come on then. Let's get you dried off and into bed."

Yoshida shifted away. "I don't need your help."

"You can't even stand, let alone towel yourself off."

"I'm fine." Yoshida attempted to struggle to his feet, only to fall before he was halfway up.

"Sure you are." Sugi wrapped a towel around Yoshida's thin body and lifted him into his arms, trying not to think about how he could feel every single one of the boy's ribs and vertebrae digging into his arms. "Bed. Right now."

Yoshida squirmed a little but allowed Sugi to carry him through into the bedroom and sit him down on the bed.

"Wait here. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Sugi headed to the kitchen and picked up some disinfectant, bandages, a cloth and a bowl, which he filled with warm water. On his return, he was greeted by a wary look from Yoshida.

"I don't need that stuff, sensei."

Sugi knelt down by the bed. "Yoshida, your injuries—"

Yoshida pulled away a little. "My injuries aren't your problem."

Sugi wasn't so sure about that, and uppermost in his mind was the thought of Takasugi's likely reaction if he came back to discover Yoshida had died from septicemia or something equally nasty during his absence. "If you don't want to talk about them, then I won't push it, but at least let me clean them. Some of those cuts look like they might be infected."

"I'm alright."

"I'm sure you are, but humor me."

Yoshida gave him a long look. "Can't I humor you tomorrow?"

"No, I have to work tomorrow." Sugi reached out, but Yoshida backed away.

"It's not necessary, sensei. I already washed them all in the shower."

"You didn't disinfect them though. Let me have a look. I'll be as gentle as I can."

Yoshida stared at him without moving for a few moments, then very slowly lowered himself down onto his stomach, keeping a wary eye on Sugi all the time.

Sugi soaked the cloth in disinfectant and applied it to Yoshida's torn back, and was instantly rewarded with a hiss of pain and a half stifled swear word.

"Sorry. I know it hurts."

"No kidding." Yoshida accompanied the words with a glare, although he didn't try to pull away. "You sure you didn't pick up the hydrochloric acid by mistake?"

Sugi sighed, wondering what had happened to that nice bit of movie time and beer he'd promised himself. "Skipping over why you think I'd have such a thing in my house to begin with, how exactly could I mistake transparent acid for bright orange disinfectant?"

"Well, it feels like acid," Yoshida mumbled to the pillow.

"I'm not going to ask how you know what that feels like." Sugi finished the worst of the lacerations and set the disinfectant to one side. "If you sit up, I'll bandage you and then you can get some rest."

Yoshida sat up but brought his arms in front of his chest, leaning away as Sugi picked up the bandages. "Sensei, please don't take this the wrong way but are you sure you know what you're doing? Because I'd be happy to leave things as they are rather than risk you cutting off the circulation to my, oh, everything."

"It's me or hospital, Yoshida. Personally I think that's where you should be, but—"

"No." Yoshida's voice was flat, immovable.

Sugi paused. "Is it the cost? Because I'll pay; I wouldn't expect a middle school student to foot his own medical bills."

Their gazes locked for a full five seconds, then Yoshida looked away. "Are you going to bandage me or not?"

Sugi opened his mouth to continue this line of questioning, then gave it up. It was late, he was tired and Yoshida wasn't much better off.

"Alright." He started wrapping bandages around Yoshida, who flinched once or twice but didn't offer any kind of protest. "But if you get worse, I'm taking you to hospital whether you like it or not."

"Takasugi-kun won't be happy about that," Yoshida said in the manner of one who's just trumped his opponent's ace.

"Takasugi's as much a kid as you are, and I'm not going to sit back and refuse to take a sick, injured fourteen year old boy to hospital just because it might upset another fourteen year old boy."

"You don't want to make an enemy of him, sensei." Now Yoshida's voice was very quiet. "You really don't want to do that."

"I also don't want to see you suffer. Besides, Takasugi told me to look after you." Sugi finished wrapping bandages around Yoshida's torso and sat back. "Having said that, there's not a lot more I can do for you right now."

"This is fine, sensei. Thank you." Yoshida pushed himself away until his back was pressed into the corner, legs drawn up to his chest, and gave Sugi a weak smile. "You probably think I deserve this, after what the three of us put you through."

Sugi stared at him. "No! Yoshida, how could anyone deserve something like this, least of all a kid like you? What about the other two? Irie and Takasugi? Are they coming along?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Takasugi doesn't usually bother explaining himself to..." The rest of the sentence was lost in a gigantic yawn. "Sorry."

Sugi shook his head. "I'm the one who should apologize, keeping you talking at this time of night."

He turned away and started to rummage around in the closet, removing two shirts, a vest, a tracksuit, a pair of socks and some underpants while Yoshida watched him from the bed.

"What's all that stuff for?"

"Me. This way I can get dressed for work in the morning without coming in here and disturbing you." Sugi held out one of the shirts. "Here. You can sleep in this until your clothes are dried."

Yoshida looked a little dubious but allowed Sugi to help him on with the shirt, which came down to just above his knees. He had to roll the sleeves back three times before he could see his hands.

"Alright. I don't know what happened to you or why Takasugi took it into his head to bring you to me of all people, and I don't even want to think about how he knew where I lived, but you're safe here." Sugi helped Yoshida lie back down and gave his hand a warm squeeze. "Just get some rest. No one will ever find you here, and I didn't mean for that to sound quite as creepy as it did."

Yoshida managed a weak smile, then his vision blurred suddenly and he looked away.

If Sugi noticed, he was kind enough not to say anything. Instead, he added, "I'll be in the next room if you need anything, okay? Don't be afraid to wake me."

Yoshida nodded but didn't trust himself to look back at the adult. He could already feel sleep rolling over him in great black waves, each harder to resist than the last as Sugi brought the quilt up over him, tucking him in.

"There you go. You sleep as long as you want to. It's Friday tomorrow, so I might be at work when you wake up, but I'll check on you before I go and I'll come back as soon as I can."

"Friday." Yoshida's voice was pensive, as though he'd forgotten there were such things as Fridays in the world. "What's the date?"

"Tomorrow? February second."

"So short?" Yoshida whispered as his eyes drifted closed. "Such a short time..."

Sugi had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but then Yoshida was probably half delirious with pain and exhaustion. Perhaps it wasn't surprising that he wasn't making a whole lot of sense. Lying there half curled into a tight little ball with the covers drawn up to his nose, he looked so small and vulnerable that Sugi felt his heart twinge. Whoever had done this was going to pay with interest.