"Yamato, don't you think the lieutenant has been acting strangely the past few weeks?" Hajime lit up a new cig as he gazed at the doorframe where Seitarou had so recently disappeared with the envelope for Supervisor Mitsuba.

"Now that you mention it," Yamato answered from the floor where he was doing one-armed push-ups with a compulsive fervor. "He has been more clumsy than usual."

"It's more than just that," Hajime muttered, taking a deep drag before exhaling the smoke. "He's not paying attention anymore. I tell him to do one thing, then ten minutes later, I find him doing something else completely." He sighed, leaning back in his chair as he felt a headache growing behind his eyes. "He used to be so useful, but now..."

"Do you plan to question him on it, sir?" Yamato switched arms for his impressive push-ups.

"Perhaps, if he gets any worse. His mandatory psych eval is next week, so if there's really a problem with him, I trust the shrinks to catch it." Otherwise, he believed that Seitarou would come to him if there was some kind of problem. After all, the blue-haired guard had never hesitated in the past to come to Hajime with any problems he encountered or questions he had.

All of the guards and supervisors of Nanba Prison were subject to biannual psychological evaluations for both the safety of the other employees and the safety of the prisoners. Evaluations took place year-round, and Tanabata's evaluations occurred every March and September. The dates of your evals were determined by the time of year you were hired.

Seitarou Tanabata had been hired as a correctional officer three years ago last September.

"Lieutenant! Where the hell have you been?!"

Seitarou flinched at the sound of his supervisor's roars.

"It's been almost two and a half hours since I sent you on that errand! It should have only taken a little more than one hours for you two complete it. So, where the hell have you been?" Hajime's eyes were blazing at his subordinate, who quaked before him with fear.

Come on, think! You can come up with something!

"I, uh..."

Would he believe me if I told him that I had gotten lost? No, I've worked here too long for that to work! Maybe I caught the wrong train by accident? Would he believe that?

Why not tell him the truth?

That's not an option right now!

It wouldn't ever be an option...

"I'm waiting," Hajime growled, looking absolutely furious. It was the kind of expression that had brought Seitarou to tears in the past, but not today. Right now, he felt too damn numb to be anything but anxious.

"I caught the wrong train by accident on my way back, and then I had to wait for the next one," Seitarou lied, letting his nervousness play out across his delicate features. Here, it was actually beneficial to show. "I'm really sorry, Supervisor. It won't happen again." He bowed at the waist, a gesture of remorse and respect, but Hajime was still dissatisfied.

Seitarou felt a hand on the top of his head, and he had to swallow a squeal as Hajime forced Seitarou to straighten up with his head back so that he was looking him in the eye.

"I-Is something wrong, Supervisor?" Seitarou stammered as he resisted the urge to reach for his hair. Hajime's face was too close to his, surely he'd see the truth written there in his lieutenant's eyes...

"Look, whatever your deal is, get it figured out." Hajime released Seitarou's head, leaning away from him once more and standing at his full height. "If you can't figure out whatever your problem is, then at least find a way to keep it from interfering with your work." Hajime was being uncharacteristically merciful, but that's only because it was Seitarou: his lieutenant who was normally so eager to learn, eager to please, eager to obey; he who was so candid, do dependable. He wasn't the most competent guard around, but he was the most competent one in building thirteen besides its supervisor. Hajime trusted him, and he'd believed that the trust was mutual.

So why was Seitarou hiding things from him now?

"Yes, Surpervisor," Seitarou murmured, his head bowed in shame but his mind miles away. When he did drag his brain back into focusing on the matter at hand, it was to see Hajime studying him with those angry eyes of his. Before long, Seitarou's mind was wandering again, beyond his normal thoughts and his normal haunts, retreating to a place where he couldn't be hurt.

"Got that, lieutenant?"

"Yes, Supervisor," he answered instantly, even though he had no idea how long he'd zoned out for or what he'd missed. He was starting to get frustrated with himself even, but what hurt more than his current level of self-loathing was the look on Hajime's face.

Disappointment.

Just like his step-father back when he was a teenager, Seitarou couldn't seem to satisfy Hajime either...

This really is just like high school all over again... except this time, I get to be part of the horny couple doing oral in the bathroom stall.

He shuddered with disgust to think of his latest encounter with Mitsuba in that way. After all, they weren't a "horny couple" and what they'd done was far from consensual, at least on Seitarou's part.

"Open wide, pretty boy. Come on, I know your mouth's bigger than that."

"Lieutenant!"

"Sorry!" Seitarou started, a bit embarrassed, making his supervisor sigh.

"I said, don't forget that your psych eval is next Tuesday, so be sure to come in early. I don't want you on their time any longer than is necessary."

"Yes, sir," the officer answered as calmly as he could, but on the inside, he was terrified.

A psych eval?

Now?

Was fate really so cruel?

Hajime then sent Seitarou on his rounds, giving the flustered guard the privacy he needed. As he walked down the hallway by himself, he ceased resisting the urge to comb his gloved fingers through his blue hair, the action soothing him slightly, even though it was tainted now.

"Careful. Next time you use your teeth, I'll punish you."

Seitarou could still feel his scalp burning from the vicious hair-pulling Mitsuba had subjected him to.

No more, Seitarou decided.

No more was he going to ignore this threat.

He'd get stronger so he could protect himself.

He'd do better so that he didn't disappoint Hajime.

"Supervisor Sugoroku."

Hajime turned around when he heard his name being called, recognizing the prison's head psychologist.

"What is it?" Hajime came to a stop, looking mildly annoyed as the psychologist approached him.

"I'm sorry to report that your lieutenant, Seitarou Tanabata, is unfit for duty."

The professional response wasn't all that shocking, but still, it caught him off-guard. He'd known that something was wrong, but he hadn't known it was that bad.

"Can you tell me why?"

"Not without violating doctor-patient confidentiality, no."

Grrr. Figures.

"Can you tell me when I'm going to get him back?"

"You know how it works, Hajime: dangerous guards get let go while troubled guards get up to a month of unpaid leave for recuperation before returning to duty—assuming they pass their follow-up psych eval."

Up to a month? That's going to be a pain.

"I assume that means he's in the 'troubled' group, then."

"It does, but I'm sure you could have figured that out for yourself. I've already filled out my part of the paperwork and left it on your desk for you, I just thought I'd come tell you in person."

"Much appreciated," was Hajime's curt response, and with a nod, he turned to resume his trek to cell thirteen.

Maybe the job's getting to him. He wouldn't be the first person to get worn down from being a prison guard, and he won't be the last. Still, I had high hopes for him. He was a quick learner, if a bit naive. He had so much potential. Oh well. There's nothing for it but to request a temporary replacement and hope he comes back.

Most guards who were deemed to be "troubled" ended up quitting while on mandatory leave, realizing that they would prefer a career elsewhere. Some of them stayed on, but only a minority of them.

Hajime knew it was futile to hope that Seitarou stayed, but he'd convinced him before to stay despite the difficulty, so maybe he could convince him again.

"Alright, inmates, time to wake up," Hajime called out into cell thirteen. "Number Sixty-Nine?"

"Here," Rock answered with a wave of his hand as he rolled over in bed.

"Number Eleven?"

"You said sixty-nine," Uno answered between snickers.

Hajime rolled his eyes. "Mature as ever. Number Fifteen?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Jyugo muttered from his brooding spot in the corner.

"Number Twenty-Five?"

"Where's Seitarou?" Nico seemed to pop out of nowhere from Hajime's perspective, and the young teenager clung to the bars in the window of their cell's door. "He promised he'd bring me the next volume of Ansatsu Kyoushitsu this morning!"

"Seitarou's not here today," Hajime replied with excessively grumpy tones.

"Aw, when will he be back?" The look of utter disappointment on Nico's face might have swayed a softer heart.

"In two weeks, so until then, you'll have to make do with someone else bringing you your manga."

"Two weeks?" Uno repeated in surprise. "Why? Did something happen to him? He didn't get in trouble for something, did he?"

"That's none of your damn business. I'll be back later to take Twenty-Five to get his medication."

Hajime stalked off like the sourpuss he was, leaving the inmates of cell thirteen in a state of mild befuddlement.

"Seitarou's going to be gone two whole weeks?" Nico looked liked he was on the verge of tears, so Uno gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "But... but... but he promised we'd watch an episode of Love Live! together!"

"How exactly did you plan to do that?" Jyugo asked with his usually apathy.

"And he was going to make me a custom one-of-a-kind Koro-sensei plushie!" Nico continued to whine. Just then, Rock wrapped his thick arms around Nico from behind, having risen from bed while the others weren't looking.

"Calm down, pal, I'm sure he's alright," Rock assured with a smile.

"He hasn't seemed alright, though..." Nico sniffled, his eyes downcast.

"I've got to agree with you there." Uno tapped a thoughtful finger on his chin. "It's not that he's seemed sick, exactly, but he's just been... unwell."

"I hope he gets better soon." Nico sighed heavily, disheartened to consider his new friend in a state of illness.

Seitarou combed out his hair with lazy hands as he lay on his side on his bed. He'd darkened his room, the shadows feeling more comfortable than the harsh sunlight. He'd been sent home early, and he didn't know what to do with himself aside from try to calm down in whatever way he knew, which meant playing with his hair.

He hadn't even told the psychologist the truth, and he'd still been pulled from active duty. Because he was on mandatory leave and not allowed to work, the prison would be reimbursing his expenses for the next two weeks—the amount of time he'd decided to take off—which was their way of not penalizing him but also their way of encouraging him to do something recreational, something restorative, something that would heal him.

Seitarou didn't have many hobbies, he wasn't close to his family, and he lived alone with only his pet rock and his potted cactus to keep him company. He would've gotten himself a cat by now, except he'd barely have any time to spend with it, so he'd just feel bad for neglecting it all the time.

He'd made an appointment with the psychologist for tomorrow so that they could try to talk through some of his current struggles—the midnight panic attacks, the vivid nightmares, the memory lapses, and such—but Seitarou didn't see how it could help when he was still withholding the most important piece of information from the man. Even so, he knew that he had to do something. His neighbor had started complaining about Seitarou's mid-sleep screams—induced by both the nightmares and the panic attacks, since they tended to be simultaneous—so if he didn't get a handle on things soon, rumors might start to spread, if they hadn't already.

Seitarou rolled onto his other side and starting combing through a new lock of hair, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He was tired, but he didn't want to sleep. He was getting so sick of the cycle: tired all day, try to sleep, wake up in a panic, repeat. And during the "tired all day" stage he was too preoccupied with trying to act like his old self, pretending to be fine, and avoiding Mitsuba at all costs to ever have a moment of true peace. Any moments he might have that would otherwise be peaceful were filled with unwelcome memories.

"Your hair is just too beautiful, Tanabata. It makes me want to steal it from you."

Go away!

"Hm, what do we have here? Such a naughty little slut to be so hard from that~"

Shut up! Don't call me that!

"Do you want me to help with that?"

No, stop touching me! Please!

"What's that? I can't hear you."

"Don't touch me!"

The exclamation burst out of him unexpectedly, and after a moment, Seitarou blinked, looking around his empty room. He hadn't known that he could sound so angry before.

He was starting to scare himself.