"You okay?" Katsuki asks. "That was like a huge spike in pretty much all your stats."

"That was me being kicked off a coat cruising above some hundred-story buildings, yeah," I attempt to explain.

"Goodness," Katsuki exclaims in horror. "Do I want to know why that happened?"

I am about to provide him an explanation in the briefest way possible when I notice the gun he is clutching in one hand. Hiroki is curled up on one of the spare mattresses, looking half-asleep but also clutching a gun, knuckles white. But why would they need to be on their guard? Mr. Yamada's crew is all dead now. Shun is tied up. They won't need to shoot anyone anytime soon.

I ask cautiously, "Um, you guys are armed because?"

Katsuki gestures out of the window with a spindly arm and we stare in dead silence at the teachers and upperclassmen, the ones who had been unconscious some hours ago, as they meander the schoolyard with empty zombie eyes and confused aimless steps. It is almost evening now and the lights in the schoolyard have automatically come on, trailing long shadows behind every one of the sleepwalkers.

Katsuki shrugs. "I locked the door to the building, so technically they can't get in from the door, but if they break the windows—"

Right on cue, the sound of glass being smashed comes from downstairs and we exchange a look. Hiroki whimpers from his bed.

"Uh... at least they don't have any weapons. We took them when they were unconscious," I say, in an attempt to look on the bright side.

"Good to hear," Katsuki mutters, gritting his teeth. "I don't know if they'll want to hurt us or not, but Hiroki and I'll figure something out." His eyes are already darting around the room, seeking items (besides our current arsenal of a couple of guns and some knives and a hatchet) that can possibly come in useful. I can practically see him listing them off in his brain. Brooms from the closet, blackboard markers, magnets, fire extinguisher—

"Wait, Hiroki and you?" I ask, suddenly coming to the realization that I've been rudely excluded.

"Yeah, duh. You've got something else you need to do, right?" Katsuki says matter-of-factly. "Or why else would they kick you off a flying coat? It's not like you're useless."

It's really heartwarming, having classmates who are confident in your abilities despite you having shown no evidence that you're any good.

"Well, yeah... I'm supposed to go mindhack Shun, like, now," I tell him.

"Good, better hurry. He won't stop struggling in his binds and it's frustrating to watch. You have any idea how you're gonna mindhack him though?"

"Uh... actually no," I confess. Katsuki is already at work hooking me up once more to the machine, sinewy hands pulling and clipping all the correct wires automatically as if they have a mind of their own.

"It'd be better to have some idea what you're dealing with before you go in," Katsuki advises, "since you'll be alone with no backup. I would have loved to go in with you but someone has to spot for... everyone." He gestures around the room, where all our classmates are lying on their respective mattresses, lost in another world. It's a strange, almost eerie sight, but at the same time somehow comforting.

"I... I'll be okay," I whisper. "But... but you..."

I can hear sounds of shuffling, dragging feet from downstairs. These are sleepwalking teachers and upperclassmen, I remind myself, not flesh-eating zombies. And they're unarmed. They can't be that bad...

But I worry. I worry so much.

"Pshht, we'll be fine," Katsuki assures me. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and he is spinning the gun in his hand with his long, slender fingers. Katsuki can spin anything, but the fact that it's a gun he is spinning right now reminds me of Shun. When he was still normal, and carefree, and spun things.

I miss that version of him.

Katsuki finishes his preparations and looks down at me as I lie awkwardly on my mattress. He's such a skinny guy that even from this really unflattering angle he doesn't have a double chin. Lucky.

"Ready to go?" he asks me. Outside, something makes a huge banging sound and the shuffling noise gets closer. I shift my position uncomfortably.

Katsuki notices my concern and gives me a tight-lipped smile. "Don't worry. You concentrate on what you're doing, we'll be fine. If they try anything I'll come up with something. Next thing you know we'll be on our way home, together, safe and sound."

"P-promise you'll be okay?" I whisper, cringing as another loud crashing noise comes from down the hall.

Katsuki raises an beautifully arched eyebrow. "I promise. I've failed my job as spotter once and I won't fail again."

He means when Jin died. But it wasn't even your fault, I think, but I don't get in a word edgewise as he continues speaking, long fingers fiddling with the buttons on the machine. "Besides, I've gotta protect my boyfriend, you know? You don't need to worry about us. Worry about what you're gonna do next instead. Think. Think about what Shun's inner demons can possibly be like, and how you can deal with them. Think..."

His voice seems to drill on into my head as everything fades away and I sink into a peaceful, brown, nostalgic mist.

-

I open my eyes to find myself in a subway station. A very normal-looking subway station, too, which is kind of surprising considering how out-of-this-world some other people's minds are, and how Shun's mind is supposed to be infested by darkness at this point.

It isn't infested by darkness. In fact, it's just a plain old normal subway station, with windows that open to a glorious, orange sunset. What strikes me as odd is the remarkable lack of human life, or any sort of life. Not even a fly in sight. It's so silent I can literally see flecks of dust drift by in the rays of the sun coming through the windows. But strangely enough, I don't feel scared. It's my first time in someone's mind alone, in a mind that's supposed to be dangerous even, but I feel just fine.

This place feels familiar. Like home. Like if I want to do something, anything in this area, I would know exactly where to go.

I think about it. Perhaps, if I want some nice bubble tea—immediately the solution comes to me. I should leave the station through the second exit and turn right. A small department store is within a five-minute walk and there's a good bubble tea store at B1.

Perhaps, if I feel like getting a haircut—immediately I have the solution once more. I'll leave the station through exit three (actually exit four works too, but that one doesn't have an escalator and I'm too lazy to take the stairs), cross the street and three barbershops in a row await.

But why am I so familiar with this place? Have I been here before?

I have, I realize. It's the station near our junior high school, the one Shun and I went to just one year ago. This doesn't exactly tell me what I should be doing next, of course, but at least it's a start.

I glance at the clock on the station wall, which I know will be there since I've looked at it more than a hundred times. It is five in the afternoon, or perhaps it isn't—I wouldn't know, since the clock seems to have stopped.

"Okay," I mutter to myself, since I'm all alone and no one else is doing the talking. "I'm stuck in this station with a broken clock, and I have nobody to talk to. What do I do next?"

The answer comes to me in the form of a distant rumble, and not the thunder kind. I peer down the tracks into the darkness of the tunnel, and see the twinkling light of an approaching train.