Can't believe all that terrible shit that's happening. #PrayForTheWorld

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He isn't doing anything.

I repeat the sentence to myself, confused. This isn't like Shun. To just stand there, and watch a gigantic snake kill a friend.

If it were me, it would sort of make sense. I'm Tomomi, the useless girl who is known for doing nothing except getting in the way during missions. But Shun's not like that. In all the mock-missions we've been through, he has always been actively doing things, often taking the lead because he is so fast, so fast that the enemies never see him coming. And he has a gun. Two guns, even, depending on whether he feels like going into dual-wield mode. He could shoot the snake that is killing Hiroki. He could, right?

Then why is he not doing it?

Surely he can't be that heartless. Especially when he had been so furious just minutes ago, so furious over whoever it is that dares to put Hiroki here, to make the poor boy suffer so much.

Shun still looks furious, in fact. But he isn't moving-or, rather, he is trying to move, I can see it in his face-his body just won't cooperate. The air around him has turned dark, a wispy, all-encompassing black, a darkness that is holding him back. A darkness that looks like wires, like tentacles, like straps.

Then his face changes, and he is no longer the Shun I know, have known for so many years, since I was like seven or eight and still wearing cute twin tails and pink sneakers and didn't have my front teeth.

The friendly light in his eyes is gone, replaced with a gleeful glint. Like nothing makes him happier to see Hiroki suffer.

He licks his lips, and his mouth forms words out of its own accord.

So weak. So useless. Cry, Hiroki, cry-

"He's gone bonkers, that one," Stephanie comments sympathetically.

"Steph! What do we do?" I shout, randomly giving Stephanie a nickname because there's no time to waste pronouncing three syllables.

"Try throwing things at the snake, bro," she suggests. She is still unable to move, for giving birth isn't like the easiest thing in the world. Besides, it's not like spiders have hands to throw things with.

That leaves me. I look for things to throw, and come up blank. There's nothing around me that is remotely throwable unless you count Stephanie's babies, and I don't think she would appreciate me throwing her children around.

Besides, I don't even want to touch those crunchy little spiders. Ew.

I throw my shoes at the giant snake instead. They're cheap two-pairs-for-the-price-of-one shoes so I won't miss them, I reason. But they have no effect on the snake.

I throw my socks, my earrings, my friendship bracelet with my Fukuoka friends that says "MANATSU x TOMOMI x YUUKO FOREVER BEST FRIEND". It lacks an "s" in the end but it's not like we're good at English.

Sorry, Manatsu and Yuuko!

None of these things have any effect on the snake. It's too big, my personal stuff too small. I am contemplating throwing my bra when I realize that even though the snake is unaffected, all my random throwing did attract Hiroki's attention.

He is looking at me now. He sees me. Perhaps he remembers me.

"Hiroki!" I yell, trying to get myself heard because spiders and snakes are still fighting behind me and making quite the din. "Hiroki, can you hear me?"

He nods painfully, gaze darting from me to my spider to Shun. His already fearful puppy eyes widen even more in horror. Shun glares right back, the same creepy darkness in his pupils, on his face, practically seeping out of his ears. Which would have been kind of funny, but I'm not in the mood to laugh right now.

"What's going on?" Hiroki mouths. Good old Hiroki, worrying about someone else even though he's the one stuck in the tight, loving embrace of a snake.

"I have no idea-" I begin to say, but Shun cuts in. He sounds all wrong. Usually he sounds like bass guitars, English horns and cellos. He now sounds like nothing, nothing and nothing. I don't know any instruments that sound terrible enough to fit the voice he's using. Comparing that to an instrument would make the instrument sad (not that instruments have feelings or anything).

He isn't even talking to us. Instead, he seems to be communicating with the snake.

"Kill him," he orders, and the snake complies by squeezing tighter, tighter. Hiroki exchanges a panicked look with me, but panic is not the only thing in his huge brown eyes. There is agony, confusion, betrayal, and suddenly a sheer desire to protect.

That's when Hiroki's scythes appear. He usually wields two of them, silvery, sleek works of art, twin blades cutting right through snake flesh. As Hiroki's hands are freed, as his fingers finally make contact with his trusty weapons, he becomes unstoppable.

Hiroki has never been a fighter. In mock missions, he prefers to bring up the rear, to stay out of the crossfire, to just hang out and befriend the animals in various mindscapes while other people do the fighting. He does have the most beautiful weapon in our whole class, but most of the time he prefers not to use it.

It doesn't mean that he's not good at it. He spins both scythes easily, fluidly, and they fly through the air, taking down one snake after another. I watch as they are chopped straight in half, body after long, slithering body, and nearly have to cover my eyes, shielding myself from the horror, the death, the cold, slimy snake blood that is spilling all over the pit.

Hiroki, not a fighter, not a killer. Killing snakes. I can hardly believe it. I can hardly believe what the pampered, always whimpering crybaby Hiroki is capable of doing if he puts his mind to it.

And he has put his mind to it. But I can tell it isn't because of hatred for the snakes. It isn't because one of them had just tried to kill him. It isn't even because (as he surely can see) so many of his spider friends are dead.

It's because something is wrong with Shun and Hiroki is desperate to find out what, so that he can fix him. The desperation is so strong that Hiroki has all but forgotten that he's surrounded by his worst fear, all but forgotten that he had been wailing like a banshee some three minutes ago. He has forgotten it all.

The desire to protect has given him the courage to face anything, even snakes.

But when Hiroki finally stops, exhaustedly letting his scythes dangle at his sides and surveying the grounds (pretty much a pit full of snake corpses by now), he and I realize that there really isn't a point.

Shun has disappeared.

For a moment, though, I decide not to think about Shun and concentrate on what matters now. I fling myself at Hiroki and envelop him in a stifling hug. He smells like snakes and his clothes are all wet and slimy, but I'm beyond caring. He is warm and soft and nice and tall and his chin fits right above my head.

He hugs me back, tighter than any hug I have ever received, and let out a little whimper, shivering quietly. He has retreated back to his frightened, lost-puppy self again.

"But he's brave," I think to myself, "but he's so fucking brave."

We stay like that for a while, until Hiroki mumbles, "What happened to Shun?"

I shake my head. "I don't know. Maybe he's fine. Maybe he's not here because someone unhooked him."

"I don't mean his disappearing. I mean... before. His eyes are all wonky. Like black holes."

I shake my head again. "I really don't know. He was normal just a moment ago."

Stephanie chimes in. "It's bad," she tells us. "I've seen that before, that darkness. It usually seeps in and creeps around our jungle in the nights, when you're sleeping, Hiroki."

When he's sleeping. When he's slowly being brainwashed by the device in our dorm basement. But Hiroki doesn't know that yet-he will, though, soon, after we're unhooked.

It occurs to me that I might never see Stephanie again after we're unhooked, unless I decide to visit Hiroki's mind again, which I probably won't considering all the spiders that are in it. I don't know whether to feel sad or relieved; maybe a bit of both.

"I don't think you'll want to hug me," Stephanie says wryly. I look at her eight furry legs, and know that it's true; I really don't want to hug her at all. All her newborn children are jumping around shrieking "Momma! Momma!" and I sure don't want to hug them either.

But I do want to thank them, so I play Stephanie a song. She's too tired to break dance to it, but she jams along agreeably, blinking her multiple eyes. I experience the strangest feeling of horror and disgust combined with comradeship and love.

As Hiroki and I, joining hands, are pulled back to the real world and out of this one, I entertain the thought that maybe, just maybe, Stephanie will pass down my song to generations and generations of spider children.