When Ikuo and Yuuya had invited Kouichi to walk home with them shortly after their class begun to ignore him, the brunet understood that he was about to get answers. While the reddish-brown haired teenager seemed hesitant to talk about their fellow students' actions, the freckled boy wanted to be honest – which was why Kouichi was now holding Yuuya in his arms, staring at the lifeless body of Ikuo Takabayashi.
Yuuya shook, his eyes overflowing with tears as he realised what had happened; his best friend had been claimed as the third death by the Calamity. His small hands gripped Kouichi's shirt tightly as he whimpered, his eyes wide as he realised just how easily he himself could have been taken as well. He was with Ikuo when the truth was about to be spoken; surely that was grounds enough for him to be a victim as well.
"Mochizuki-kun?" Kouichi didn't know what to do; should he call an ambulance? Call the police? Their parents...? Ikuo was dead; it was clear nothing would bring him back. He didn't know what was going on; all he knew was that people he was associated with seemed to be dying. "Mochizuki-kun, I'll call the police. Just sit down next to me, okay?"
Yuuya didn't reply; he only folded his legs beneath his body, resting against the warm body of the brunet. He wiped at his eyes as soft sobs escaped his lips, staring at the lifeless eyes that had, only minutes before, been pained more than he had ever seen. He listened silently as his friend used the phone, his mind swimming with guilt; surely he should have known what Ikuo had planned? What if he had stopped Ikuo from talking to Kouichi? Would he still be alive if he had? Was it his fault for not stopping the taller boy?
Kouichi absentmindedly wrapped his arm around the shaking boy's shoulder, holding him close as he thanked the police for their time, promising to wait by their friend's body until an officer arrived. He was worried about Yuuya's state of well-being, having never seen the artistic teen like this before; Yuuya was usually cheerful, even if he was quiet most of the time.
"Mochizuki-kun?" Kouichi moved closer, pulling the smaller boy against his side. "Mochizuki-kun, I..."
Yuuya didn't want to hear it; he didn't want to hear Kouichi apologise or anything of the sort; he didn't want to hear the other question the circumstances of Ikuo's death; he definitely didn't want to hear the sure confusion that would be present when the brunet asked him what Ikuo was going to say before his death.
The reddish-brown haired boy was spared any further distress by the wailing of an approaching police car, accompanied by an ambulance. He couldn't watch as paramedics arrived at the scene and immediately approached the victim, checking for signs of life. He blocked out all voices as his friend spoke to the police, and when he was addressed by them he could only whimper and hide his tear-stained face in Kouichi's shoulder.
When his parents arrived to take him home, Mochizuki all but went peacefully, horrified to realise he was about to leave his best friend, see him for the last time – that the last memory he would ever have of the older boy was watching him claw at his chest, his eyes wide as his weak heart gave out, hearing the pained cries escape the other's cavern.
Kouichi went home himself, unable to bear to listen to his friend's sobs and screams as Yuuya was literally fought into the car. He didn't want to hear the emotional agony of losing someone close to him, wondering if this was how he would feel if his mother had died later instead of while she gave birth to him.
The brunet greeted his grandparents and aunt as he entered his home before he continued on his way to his bedroom, too distraught to talk to them casually.
As he lay down on his futon, Sakakibara thought about Mochizuki, about the younger's relationship with Takabayashi, about how the dull-haired boy would cope with this devastating incident. He wondered if there would be anything he could do to help, or if he would only make things worse; he had never exactly comforted someone after a death before, after all.
It was late, and the day's events had drained Kouichi. Closing his eyes, he drifted off into a restless sleep, the deaths he had been associated with haunting him in his sleep – but the worst part was when Yuuya's tear-stained face turned to him in his dreams, begging for help, and he could only stare at the smaller boy in wonder.
Sleep had never been so difficult before.