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I Found The Missing Guy

Chapter 3

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Where am I?

 

His head was spinning, and he wanted to throw up. He couldn’t remember much. Where was he? Is this the last save point? Did he die? He could see it was dark, but not as dark as the cell. He could move his hands; he wasn’t tied up. When he reached for his back, he felt no pain. There was no injury. He must’ve died. 

 

He stood up, but the action made his head feel worse, leaving him kneeling on the ground. He tried looking around some more, but he just couldn’t seem to see clearly. What was happening? Sure, return by death made him want to puke at times, but it never made him feel like - well, this. It was like the effects of the poison that had killed him previously had been carried over to the next loop. He chuckled, only for it to turn into a coughing fit.

 

He felt a soft breeze of wind hit him, and it sent shivers down his spine. It was so very cold. He just wanted to wrap himself in a dozen blankets. But whatever he was feeling right now would have to stay on the back burner. For now, he’d better figure out where he was and make sure Rem was safe.

 

Ignoring the headache and freezing cold, he forced himself to walk around and get a feel for things. If he couldn’t know by sight, he could make an educated guess by feeling out his surroundings. 

 

As he walked around with his arm stretched out, he came in contact with something cold. It wasn’t a cold enough to make him shiver, but it was a cold that was familiar. Metal, he could tell, but it was thick and seemingly tall. It was too thick to be a flagpole, but he reached a bit higher up and he could feel something else. Paper

 

He could feel them stacked up on top of one another. Some felt old while some– Specifically one - felt new. As he walked towards it, trying to get a better look, he saw the word ‘Missing’ spelled in a language he was all too familiar with. As he brought his face closer, trying to get a better read, he stepped on something that made a familiar sound he hadn’t heard in over a year.

 

Plastic

 

Like pieces of a puzzle, it was all starting to fit. Each piece that confused him before was finally making sense and clicking into place. Before he could finish his train of thought, he heard footsteps. They seem to be coming from perhaps two or three people, but each step was quick and from the sound of it, they were making their way toward him.

 

He tried calling out to them, but he froze. The feeling that felt like his head was splitting into two. He winced, the pain being the only thing he could feel at that very moment. Next thing he knew, he tumbling down a steep hill. 

He could feel the edges of sharp rocks piercing his skin and small bumps along the ground that felt like a punch to his stomach. When it was all over, the only thing that cushioned his fall was the soft grass and fallen leaves.

 

Whatever he felt before was now ten times worse by this. He couldn’t help but curse at his current state. If only he’d been able to see properly, then he could’ve avoided this whole ordeal.

 

Still, he knew it was definitely plastic. He couldn’t confirm it just yet, but if he woke up, hopefully, he could. If I’d even wake up in the same place.

 

I’m definitely in Japan, aren’t I?

 

But his thoughts halted there, as the pain and cold took over him, and his consciousness faded.






He was panting, but he looked around, trying to find him. He was confused. Where was Natsuki-san?

 

The officer that he’d come with had finally caught up with him. He was also panting, though more heavily than he was. He too was looking around but seemed more confused than he was. All the officer could see were packs of instant noodles spilled out of a plastic bag.

 

“So kid,” the officer said, “Where is he?” 

 

“He was right here!” He responded.

 

He could see the officer's expression turn sour. “Kid,” the officer turned, looking him straight in the eye, ”do you think this sort of thing is something to joke about?” His stare made him frantic, but he defended himself. “I swear it’s not a joke! He was right there!” He yelled. “He was wearing green, he had black pants-” he stopped for a second, trying to remember. “He was wearing a bright orange scarf!”

 

As he rambled, he went looking around near the bench Natsuki-san had once laid on moments ago. He was desperate to find anything that would prove to the mad that Natsuki Subaru was there. That he’d found him. He looked over the same spot over and over as if a trace of him would magically appear out of thin air, but it didn’t.

 

He felt a hand lay on his shoulder. When he turned to look at the man, he expected anger. That he’d wasted his time and that he shouldn’t be making a sick joke out of this, but when he met his eyes, they held a look of concern. Just the unexpectedness of it shut him up.

 

“Have you slept at all, kid?” The man said it with such sincerity that it actually hurt. He didn’t believe him. To be fair, who would? No one’s seen Natsuki-san in over a year. Everyone thinks it’s a cold case. It had no leads, after all. If the police couldn’t even find anything, how can a random high schooler do it?

 

“I- No, I haven’t.” He answered honestly. The man sighed. “Maybe you should go home and get some sleep. You shouldn’t even be out so late. Your parents are going to start worrying if they aren’t worried already.” He heard the man chuckle.

 

Parents? Worry? Those two words in the same sentence were funny. But the thought of sleep was nice. “Whoa there! Don’t go fainting on me!” Oh.. his legs seem to have given out. “C’mon kid, I’ll walk you home.” The officer offered. He had little energy to refuse.

 


 

“So, kid, what’s your name?” The officer asked. “I can’t just keep calling you ‘Kid’ after all.” He could tell that the man was just doing this in an attempt to keep him awake. Not wanting to be rude, he responded. “Inahata. Inahata Ichiro.” “Tsukahara Junpei. Nice to meet you, Inahata-kun.”

 

After the brief introduction, the officer–Tsukahara-san–continued. He asked him questions that weren’t all that personal. He just answered yes or no and Tsukahara-san didn’t ask him to elaborate, so he didn’t. Or at least that’s how it was before Tsukahara-san changed the topic.

 

“So, Natsuki Subaru… What was he to you? A friend of yours?” The question made him stop for a moment. Friends? “No, we weren’t really friends.” He said. “We didn’t really talk all that much. Pretty sure I only talked to him… once, I think? We were classmates since elementary though..”

 

“Really, just once? How so?” 

 

“I was a bit intimidated, I guess. He was the popular kid back then. Always surrounded by people. Made me pretty scared of approaching him.” He began reminiscing. “He was loud and energetic. He was always the one who’d started all the games. He was even a bit of a troublemaker.” He continued. “I remember when he had long hair. He got confessed to by half the guys in class! To be fair, he was pretty. It almost tricked even me!” He continued to ramble on and on about old memories of Natsuki-san. Remembering all the shenanigans that Natsuki-san and the others used to get into. He never participated in any of them, but seeing it all go down had entertained him so much back then, and apparently even now.

 

He heard a half-suppressed laugh coming from Tsukahara-san. “You guys really weren’t friends? I really wouldn’t have been able to guess. You talk about him with such fondness for someone who claims they’d only ever talk to him once.”

 

He got quiet. They really weren’t friends. He doesn’t say that cause he’s ashamed. They really weren’t. But he guesses that he was watching him quite a bit. Like the fact that Natsuki-san seems to scratch himself when he got nervous. Or that he seemed to be really good at sewing. In middle school, he saw him accidentally rip a part of his uniform once, then in the middle of class, he saw him stitching it back up and it looked like nothing ever happened. Then again, anyone who was watching could probably tell.

 

Still, being called a friend? By Natsuki-san of all people? He scoffed at the thought. He didn’t deserve that. Not after he outright ignored the guy and acted like he didn’t exist.

 

“Hey, kid?” The sudden noise made him jump a bit. “You okay?” Tsukahara asked. He nodded. “This is it right?” He looked to his left, and this was indeed it. Tsukahara handed him the plastic bag, and he thanked him for bringing him home. 



“No problem. Next time, don’t stay out so late, alright Inahata-kun?” He nodded again. “Well, goodnight kid. Don’t cause trouble for your parents.” “Yes. Um, goodnight to you too, Tsukahara-san.”

 

When he entered his house, he just stayed there at the entrance looking back on tonight. It was all so strange. It left him confused. Had everything he’d seen really just been hallucinating out of his lack of sleep and–just a guess– guilt? It wouldn’t really surprise him. It’s happened before.

 

He was too tired to think about all this right now.

 

He threw the bag on the table and made his way to his room. As soon as his head hit the pillow, his eyes grew heavy and he drifted off to sleep.

Notes:

I finished this quicker that expected. I did not expect that

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