Falling for a Tragedy | Kei Tsukishima ?

There was the smell of old mothballs and leather in the air, on your tongue. You tried to breathe in as little as possible, your lungs straining in protest, wringing your hands nervously in your lap as the school counsellor took a seat on the opposite side of the desk. You shifted in the plush brown seat, watching the man from the corner of your eye.

Ittetsu Takeda he'd introduced himself as with a polite, formal smile, ushering you into his small but homely office the following lunchtime. He was a short man with messy black hair and small brown eyes, but with a pleasant enough attitude.

He coughed, nudging a pair of thinly-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, and let his palms relax against the desk. "So, [Y/N]-San, what's troubling you?"

You swallowed, fumbling around for the right words. What were you supposed to say? "I-I'm not here for me, actually," you started, slowly. "It's my friend, K-Kei Tsukishima." The word sounded weird on your tongue, not quite right. Were you still less than a friend? Were you anything more?

Takeda's face twisted then, as if he too had become aware of the dusty smell of the room. "Ah, right. I've heard about the recent incident. It must have been difficult. To think he was coping with that this whole time. Is he... okay?"

"Yes, yes, he's fine. But, as you know, his parents have been taken in on the basis of child abuse," you said slowly, carefully, as if walking over broken glass. You didn't want to cut yourself too much. "And he's likely to be put in the care system. Foster care."

Takeda nodded along with your words, like a robot. Was he programmed with automatic responses too? A systematic protocol to follow. Maybe this had been a mistake. As you fell silent, he began to talk, nervously, more tentatively, and this seemed to ease your worries slightly. "You're worried about him going into foster care?" He clarified.

"I don't think it's going to make him... happy," you said lamely. It was difficult to get your emotions out in the right words. "So I was wondering if, uhm, there was any alternative at all. I'm not really familiar with how it all works but..."

"The only other option he has would be to live with relatives," Takeda said. "But, well, I'm assuming he doesn't if he's being put straight into foster care."

You furrowed your brows. "Are they certain of that? Where would they get that information?"

Takeda tapped his fingers against his chin. "I'm not one hundred percent sure. It depends, I suppose, if the parents ever let anyone know if he had other relatives, at any point when filling out forms, registering for school and so on."

You licked your lips, the air was dry. "So they might have hidden the fact that Tsukishima has other family?"

Takeda's eyes brightened behind his glasses. "That is a possibility. I can, however, check his school records. There might be mention of extended family from when he first attended. I'm not going to lie, it's entirely possible that social missed something." Or didn't look very hard in the first place.

"Aren't those confidential?"

He appeared sheepish, fiddling with his tie, red polka dots. "Well yes, and you won't be allowed to look at them. But as counsellor, I have access to anything I deem necessary to help a student. Within reason, of course," he added quickly, and with a closed-eye smile. "I'll see what I can dig up. How about you come and see me again tomorrow?"

"Yes, thank you very much Takeda-Sensei. It's a huge weight off my mind. I hope we can find something."

~

Tsukishima had been discharged from hospital the day before, and his night was spent in temporary care whilst a more permanent placement was secured for him. You went to visit him after his first night there. The house was nice enough, everything clean and perfect, but it wasn't home. It would never be home. Things were too perfect, too clean. It was the kind of house where you were scared to leave something out of place, where you felt your very presence contaminated the pristine surroundings.