Late and restless, Ritsu pushed through the early-morning crowd of busy men and women as he rushed to school. He was in junior high; a third year with a penchant for literature.

His school loomed a block away, across the street and up an unforgiving incline. Some ways across from it, and perhaps doubly intimidating, was the Onodera publishing firm, of which his father and mother were the CEOs.

No one else seemed to notice it. The building that ruled him.

Whether the humidity or the sudden burst of pressure welling up in his gut, he found himself stalling at the sidewalk- in spite of the crowd that was quickly maneuvering past him. He was unable to move forward, somehow, as if his doubt had manifested into a gavel and struck him.

"Oh God, get out of the way!" somebody screamed; when he lifted his head, he saw the crowd-the one that had previously surrounded him-scattering into a million different pieces.

The panic was undeniably a direct result of the semi-truck veering off in all directions with a collapsed driver in the front seat, presumably flooring the accelerator.

For the briefest instant, Ritsu feared something more than the possibility of disappointing his parents. His legs shook. His body felt numb and through his veins coursed the adrenaline of impending death.

"This is it… I'm going to die!"

He could have suffocated then and there from the fear of not knowing, but darted across the street because his life depended on it.

What stilled him, as he nearly crossed the intersection, was a phenomenon that could have only boiled down to 'stupid intuition'. Because most curiously, he turned his head to find that he was not the only civilian that hadn't adequately fled. The boy that remained had his back towards the crowd quite boldly, and he faced the truck as though he could halt it on sheer power of will alone.

"He's going to die."

Somehow, the notion was just as scary as it had been when it was his life on the line.

"Th-That's dangerous, get out of the way!"

With courage that seemed to bubble over and steer him, he grabbed the man by his shoulders and pulled. It was effective in terms of startling the man out of his supposed stupor, and he hit the ground.

But there was little else interfering with the epidemic, and thereafter the accounts of what happened that day become unclear.

Some say that the truck sent his body flying during his great escape, to the other side of the intersection and to safety. Others assert that the kid who was scrawny and dazed to begin with merely seized the opportunity to throw himself in front of it. Nonetheless, as the truck wedged itself between a streetlight and a traffic divider, his unmoving body was being loaded into the back of an ambulance.

Above him, he recalled bright, fluorescent lights and the desperate faces of the nurses and doctors who tried to stifle the blood loss.

One would think that death would hurt, but he felt nothing. Nothing in his pale, white fingers except the vague and incoherent longing to touch something; perhaps the binding of those books he'd never finished, and there weren't many.

Even as he awoke, he felt nothing on his physical body.

But psychologically, he was in the wake of tremendous fear and anxiety. The type that proceeds a nightmare in which reality and fiction blur together.

"Where… Where am I…? Mom…?" he looked around the room a bit, although his head would not budge much. "Dad…?"

In that room, he was alone with the exception of a nurse who was apparently in the middle of replacing his IV drip. She looked startled, at first, and then offered a smile of relief. "It's good to see that you're awake… Please try not to move so suddenly, or you'll upset your injuries. Let me know if there's anything I can-"

"What's going on? Am I… Am I dead?!" he knew he shouldn't have had to ask, but survival seemed too unreal.

She shook her head, "No! Not at all. In fact, your survival was so miraculous that the doctors recorded it as one of the most successful recoveries in-"

"Wait, what time is it?!" he searched frantically for a clock, in the hopes that, by some luck, he would have time to make it to school when this was all over. But his eyes were too blurry; as if he had just woken from a long nap and the world hadn't come into focus.

The nurse turned around and read it for him, "It's four in the afternoon, you've been asleep for three days now."

"Th-Three days?!" he jolted upright and his heart monitor began to fluctuate rapidly. This worried the nurse quite a bit, so she rushed to his bedside and urged him back down.

"Please, don't move so much! The impact could have easily shattered your spine and your body is weak from paralysis. If you try to get up now, it could have severe consequences!"

"I don't care! I need to get out of here!"

Down the hall, another voice was heard, as well as loud footsteps. "Ma'am, you can't go in there. Ma'am!"

The door burst open nonetheless, and the woman who he immediately recognized to be his 'fiancee' appeared. "An!" He felt some guilt welling up in his gut, but this was actually the first time that he could recall being happy to see her.

"Ritsu!" she embraced him immediately. "I've been so worried. Thank God, you're awake!"

He intended to return the embrace, but found it difficult to lift his arms. He felt nothing and for a moment, he panicked, believing that he was truly paralyzed. "A-An?"

The nurse noticed, and although she did not condone the presence of a visitor, she conceded, "Don't be afraid. As I said, your limbs are exhausted from non-use. Give it some time and you'll be as good as new!"

The fact that his status wasn't permanent relieved him, and he sighed. An didn't seem phased by his inability to return the hug, and she brushed some hair out of his face.

He looked up at her, "Where… are mom and dad?"

She wore a slight frown, "They've come by to check on you once or twice…" yet that information seemed to bring her some discomfort. "They've gone back to work now, but told me to inform them right away when you woke up."

"Oh…" it figured that work would have kept them busy. It was a weekday, after all. "I see. Well then, it can't be helped." His heart skipped a beat as his mind returned to the accident. The last thing he recalled, before the truck hit him: that boy who he may or may not have saved.

"Wait- What happened to that man!" Once again, his heart monitor mirrored his anxiousness.

An, and the nurse as well, gave him a puzzled look. "What man, Ritsu?"

The nurse frowned. "I'm afraid you and the driver were the only casualties; no one else was brought in for treatment, that I know of."

'Casualties' felt strange to his ears. And he wasn't sure whether to feel relieved that he'd saved the man or dread the fact that he'd gotten himself a direct ticket to ER.

"But… I…"

The door swung open and the doctor walked in. A young, dark-haired woman carrying a clipboard of the patient's records. She glanced at An, briefly, but offered only a smile. "It's good to see that you've woken up, young man. You had us worried for a minute there…"

He was filled with questions, but was too confused to voice them.

He survived, and although anyone would have been moved to tears by such a blessing, he felt ill. As if he had just misstepped a crucial part of his existence.

"I'm alive. But..."

The woman flipped a page, and brought the clipboard down to him, "Take a look at this."

The page was a printout of a heart monitor, except it was not a reflection of his heartbeat but an undeniable flatline. He clutched his chest, and felt guilt. "The driver…?"

"He was declared dead at the scene," she frowned, "but that is not what we're showing you. This is your heart monitor, Onodera. What you're looking at…" she flipped the page again. What is showed was a gradual transition; from a flatline to a steady array of mountaintops. "Is nothing short of a miracle."

The beating in his chest rapidly increased until there were tears in An's eyes, as she urged him desperately to lay back down and rest. Although he had done nothing but rest for the past few days. For her as well, the gravity of the situation was coming down hard. The fact that she had almost lost her childhood friend and fiancee in one, fatal incident scared her.

But it scared him even more—

—because he had known, even before waking, that he was not meant to be here, breathing.

All hopes of being discharged any time soon were crushed by the curious doctors and the concerned nurses who demanded that he stay behind until his condition stabilized. His parents did not object to this, but instead requested that he be allowed to catch up on his studies when able, and that the matter in its entirety was kept under wraps.

It was a month and three, agonizingly long weeks before his rehabilitation was complete. Even then, he was to go about returning to life with moderation and consistently attend physical therapy. Moreover, returning to school was still up in the air and for the moment, it was decided that he'd resume his studies at home, with a tutor.

Friday afternoon, he was dropped off in front of the P.T. center and bid goodbye to the driver. There was a vending machine not far from the door, and it was full of healthy treats and drinks with nutritional properties. They were bland in taste, but he was parched and in dire need of nutrients wherever he could get them, since the accident had left him anemic.

When the can popped out of the machine, he reached to pick it up.

"-Crap!" but the can slipped through his palms, and when he looked down at them, his fingers trembled. Occasionally, these things would appear: reminders of the accident that ruined him.

There was laughter behind him and he turned around quickly, startled as there had been no prior sign of anyone nearby. But that sort of thing was easy for someone in his condition to miss.

It was a boy, roughly his age, with brown hair and an amused gleam in his eye. He bent down to pick up the can and tossed it back to him.

He managed to catch it this time, and offered apprehensively, "Oh… Thank you."

"No problem. I figured you'd need some help there." he slipped his hands into his pockets and looked around, "So, what are you in for?"

"Uh… what?"

It was that boy's turn to look confused, until he relented, "... You know what type of place this is, right? It's a rehabilitation center for geezers that want to stay in shape and losers like me who got into a wreck. It's how I did this." he held up his arm, and for the first time, Ritsu noticed that it was in a cast.

"Oh… I'm sorry about that-"

Haitani laughed, "No, not you too! Don't pity me like that… Besides, you're in the same boat, right? Must have messed up your hand pretty badly when you got hurt. So, what'd you do?"

He was hesitant about whether or not he could reasonably consider telling this guy, this total stranger about what incapacitated him… But was this the type of information that could really be withheld?

"I… was hit by a truck." he steadied his fingers and managed to open his can. He took one large nervous swig from it.

"Oh, I see!" he looked Ritsu up and down, "You wouldn't think that by looking at you… But I guess that would explain why you're so thin. Hey, here's an idea… Your session probably starts soon, right?"

He nodded.

"Well, mine just ended. So whenever you finish up, I'll take you out to ramen. Sounds good?"

He was hesitant, for obvious reasons. Was it alright to eat with a stranger? And he wasn't too familiar with eating out, so it could be troublesome… Nonetheless, "S-Sure!"

"Great!" Haitani slapped his back, unwittingly throwing him off balance (of which he thankfully recovered quickly) and headed towards a bench. "I'll see you then."

"O...Okay." he breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone.

Of course he was nervous. He'd spent so long in the hospital that real people seemed like a dream.

As it turned out, Haitani was a good person to have around. Differences aside, he was polite and patient enough to stomach his inability to order his own food under pressure, or operate simplicities like subway tickets.

Haitani came from a small family and he'd come all the way out to the city in order to attend school with a good literature program, so he was with a relative for the time being. From there, they decided they had more in common than expected.

Although their backgrounds were different, their interests were more or less the same and they were free to share the struggle of resuming daily life while coping with an injury. He made it easier to cope with the fact that he wouldn't be returning be returning to school until 10th year.

One evening, they sat together eating ramen, at the shop that they frequented. Haitani had mentioned something about his brother's new job, but Onodera's focus was solely on the window.

In a daze, he did not notice when a hand was in front of his face, until Haitani pinched his cheek and reclaimed his attention. "What's with you? Did you see a ghost?"

"H-Huh?!" he was shaken out of his stupor quite dumbly. A ghost?

It was possible.

Nothing unusual had happened, persay. An ambulance had gone by and this was commonplace in a city with such a dense population. What caught his attention was the head of black hair on the opposite side of the street, with eyes that seemed to pierce him, although he was not sure if the eye contact was intentional.

There was something unshakeable about the familiarity in the man's build, the way his hair fell around his shoulders and his posture that was naturally gloomy somehow.

He shook it off, "Ah, sorry! I thought I saw a cat."

"A cat?" he laughed and took a swig of his soda, "I didn't know you were such a child, ha!"

Again, his attention was on the window. But there was no such person to be seen.

"Of course someone else in this city has black hair…!"

"Uh, what was that?"

Ritsu jerked his head up in surprise upon the realization that he'd spoken out loud. "A-Ah, nothing! Sorry, what were you saying? Your brother got a job and…"

"Woah, I said that three minutes ago! So you really weren't paying attention…" he leaned forward "What's got you so worked up? Did you really see a ghost or somethin'?"

He struggled to find the right words. It should have been as simple as saying that he recognized someone from the accident, but… So far there were no confirmed reports of the man he had saved. And from what he could tell, there were no recollections of anyone like that even being there. The witnesses involved occasionally visited him in the hospital, and were just as curious as he was about the ordeal.

And as much as he'd like to attribute it to a trick of the light, this was a trick he'd experienced twice now.

"N-No…"

Awkward silence passed between them for a moment. Until Haitani's smirk widened and he scrutinized Ritsu intensely. "It couldn't be… Perhaps you saw a girl?"

He shook his head frantically, "No, it's nothing like that…! Besides…" he slumped a little.

Haitani noticed, and it killed the fun so he sat back down. "Oh, right, right… Arranged marriage or whatever. You haven't told your folks that you're backing out of it?"

The very idea seemed impossible. He gripped his chair and shook his head, "No, I… I can't."

"Well, I'll be the best man at your wedding!" he put his chopsticks down and asked for the bill. "Oh, by the way… You just had your last P.T. session, right? We should go celebrate!"

"Oh…" he wondered if this meant he'd get a break from Haitani. Sometimes it was hard to handle his eccentricism, though he wasn't bad to be around.

It's just that he said too much, occasionally. Were all teenagers like this? Though he was only a few years older.

"So? Whataya think? Any special movie you've been wanting to see? Let's make it a date!"

"A movie…?" he considered it. Then the sentence registered with him and he nearly choked on his tea. "A- A date?!"

Once again, Haitani laughed quite loudly and gathered his belongings, urging Ritsu to do the same as they'd already covered the bill. "You're so fun to tease, did you know that? Anyway, let's hit a movie! You've got nothing else to do all afternoon, I take it."

"Well…" he considered it "Ah, Akikawa Yayoi just released a new book, today! I was going to-"

His hand was grabbed and Haitani was already leading him out of the shop, in spite of his protests. "Akikawa this, Akikawa that. It's important to get your head out of the books once in awhile. Even I take breaks, y'know."

There was little else he could say to deter Haitani from his course. So he conceded to spend the rest of his afternoon at the movies or wherever else he decided to drag him.

In any case, a movie seemed like a good distraction.

The movie they had seen was not great. But it was distracting, if only because Haitani wouldn't quit chattering about it.

"The way the rangers fought, it looks like they did their own stunts! I was into martial arts myself, until my injury forced me to quit taking classes! But maybe some time in the future I'll…"

Ritsu had zoned out for the most part, and looked around warily. Sometimes he found himself paying closer attention to the street than he should have, but who wouldn't after experiencing such a horrific accident. It was like trauma.

But Haitani, who had grown used to his paranoia by now, had no trouble overlooking this and continuing his incessant ramblings. "And then I…"

There, out of the corner of his eye again, he saw that person. It looked like they were situated in an alleyway between two buildings, but they did not make eye contact- not immediately.

It took a moment of staring, but the man looked up at Ritsu with the same amber eyes he'd seen at the shop. And there was something unshakably familiar about his features, although he could not have possibly seen them so closely on the day of the accident. But if ever there was a time to kill his curiosity…

"I-I'll be right back!" he declared, and Haitani managed to get a few steps ahead before it hit him.

He turned towards Ritsu indignantly, "Hey, wait!" but was left in the dust.

Ritsu darted across the street, and that's when the man noticed him. As if being chased, he headed further down the alley, and was pursued.

The alley was a shortcut through the block, apparently, except by the time he'd reached the other side, the man was lost to him. "Please wait!" he called out, although his attempts were likely fruitless.

He ran around for a little while after until he was doubled over, exhausted and certain that he would fall over any moment now. But he had some explaining to do- and a lot of ground to cover, considering he'd gotten much further than intended during his wild goose chase.

It took a good 15 minutes but he had returned to where he'd left Haitani, unsurprised to find him gone. He decided to check his phone, in which a message informed him that they would meet instead at the subway.

It was a mere 10 minutes away, and he found Haitani at the bottom of a staircase with a puzzled look on his phase. "Geez, what took you so long? Get down here so we can catch the last train already."

He took a few deep breaths, "A… Alright." and lamented the fact that everything in Japan had to involve some kind of slope. In this case, a steep decline.

He grabbed the railing and helped himself down. That was when the stone crumbled, killed his footing and sent him on a head-first tumble down a cement stairway.

What followed was the sound of something cracking and what felt like blood oozing out of his head in copious amounts. His limbs trembled and for a moment, although he felt no pain, he was overcome with the sensation of death once again. He looked up, desperate for a hand to reach out to- something, anything to pull him out of this terrifying inevitability, but saw nothing ahead of him except an overturned world and a man with black hair a few feet away.

It was undeniably the man from across the street, the man from the accident, looking down at him with gloomy, amber eyes that were full of pity—

—until he was at the top of the staircase, once again.

He blinked several times, looked around and then down at Haitani who tapped his foot impatiently. "What's the hold up already?! You've been out of it since this afternoon, y'know… Did something happen during therapy?"

Ritsu could not wrap his mind around what had just happened. It was far too vivid to be a daydream and he could practically still feel the blood on his skull, but no matter how many times he looked at the ground, at himself, nothing at all was out of the ordinary.

He couldn't shake the familiarity of it all. It was almost exactly how he'd felt the day he awoke in the hospital, somehow knowing that his survival was not something that should have occurred that day.

"Onodera!" Haitani called out angrily, "Get moving already; don't make me carry you!"

"A-Alright, coming!" he called out, and gripped the railing tightly during his cautious descent. His friend teased him when he reached the ground, calling him an old man for being so wary of something that only those with bad hips should fear. But he was too shaken to care.

"Is it… True..? Am I really supposed to be dead, then?!"

The eyes of pity flashed in his mind again and he turned around. But they were the only people in the vicinity and would surely miss the last train if he delayed any longer, so he allowed Haitani to take his arm and pull him onto the subway without complaint.

A/N:

Hi there! I posted this on AO3 as well. If you'd like to read it there, it's on my profile. I hope you enjoy!