retrospec | third ensemble;

third ensemble;

Mizuki Sena
9/22 near Recollé University
I keep on hearing things like hero schools and schools for exceptionally talented students and normally I do not give a crap about all that but curiosity's gonna kill the cat anyway, so.

What kind of school do you used to go to in your past life? Rate it from 1-10 on how bizarro it is and explain why too when you're at it.

Also, if "Yumenosaki Academy" rings any bells for you, feel free to approach me via PM and I'll tell you everything you need to know. Be prepared though because it's some serious shit.

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I knew it'd get into your head...

No, I'm pretty sure it wasn't. I would've remembered anything about it by now.

Ask Mao for more info about it i guess, since he was from the student council back then apparently.

I will. Don't worry.

Still, this all seems harmless enough, Sena. Was it truly necessary to make this private?

No there's more.

And I know that it's not going to trigger anything with you or maybe you won't believe me but I might as well give you a heads up.

There's apparently a war in that school. I don't know how it happened and who started it but a lot of people were really hurt about it. I guess it took me by surprise since why the fuck was there a war in a school for idols in the first place.

[and there it comes. not all of it, but enough. glimpses of paperwork, vague recollections of mental schemes, the animosity with which people viewed him, the acceptance that he had brought it upon himself for–what? the greater good? the greater good of what? just what was so important that an orchestrated war–however metaphorical–would solve?

the most sickening thing is that he can't even recall the faces of those who were hurt. only remember that there were many.]

thats awful

[sena can't know. not yet. what would he think? how could he feel anything short of betrayal when a week or two ago the perpetrator of this traumatic war was holding him in his arms, comforting him. holding him most nights. kissing him...

keito's skin feels like it's burning. his stomach is churning. his hands are shaking. he wants to throw up.]

do you remember any of the people who were hurt?

[ izumi is none the wiser as of the moment, but he does note that keito suddenly texted in small caps, which is strange. maybe he did remember something after all? ]

not a thing
just its general feeling
i don't even know if i was affected myself

i mean you were the vice president like i said so maybe you should know more about it?

it's possible

[inevitable now.]

does anyone remember who was president?

i don't, at least. im asking the rest what else they know.

[ maybe it's just him being paranoid, but: ]

hey
are you okay?
im sorry that this is all too hard to believe but
i want to get to the bottom of this
for all of us
but if it's too much for you then

[ then what? keep all the info to himself? but that's not fair, is it? ]

[shit]

of course i am just typing with one hand is all

[he doesn't want to lie to him, but it's necessary, isn't it?]

don't treat me like i'm something fragile izumi
i want to know too

[there's one truth, at least.]

[ "you're one to talk," izumi wants to say, but he'd rather not start something with keito right now. ]

all right
then ill keep you updated as much as possible
tell me if you know anything else as soon as possible, okay?

thank you

[why does it feel as if he's already been seen through? it's hard to type through the anxiety boiling in his gut but he forces himself to endure, at least for one last message.]

sorry

[why had he typed that? it felt right in the moment but–god, he needed to cover it up quick.]

i should be the one thanking you
i'll let you know

[and that's what does it. that final lie, a twist in his gut. there won't be any more responses. he can't bring himself to write more.]

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