Soma threw his briefcase on the sofa and went to get himself a glass of water. Night had fallen a long time ago. Another exhausting... and lonely day. Tonight was a karaoke party celebrating the birthday of one of his old comrades, but he could no longer bear these reminders of the past. Past from which the only thing he longed for was now denied to him. He turned on the television and headed back to the kitchen.

“... attack that shocked Japanese and international opinion. A humanitarian medical team in Mali was attacked last night by a rebel gang. One person was killed and three others injured, one seriously. Shô Takeshi's report.”

Soma paused for a moment, intrigued. The reporter's face appeared, standing out from a small group of what must have been other journalists crowding in front of a guarded door.

“A tragedy took place at 5 p.m. local time in the small Bakao camp run by the NFV organization. An armed group appeared during a vaccination session to extort money from the medical team and the village. Thanks to the courage of the humanitarian team, most of the population was able to be taken to safety, but when those in charge refused to comply, a shooting broke out. This is the information we have received so far. We are trying to find out more from the French hospital where the injured were repatriated. It seems that three injured people were rushed to the hospital. The head of the Japanese team, doctor Ikeda Yoshio, was reportedly slightly injured, as was a young volunteer Saneda Ryō. The head of the French team Demondaruboa Seishi, is reportedly in a critical condition.”

Soma's glass shattered into a volley of small shards as it hit the ground.

“This... This can't be possible...”

“... Boa-sensei, a brilliant surgical intern, is the son of a former dignitary of the French consulate. His exact chances of survival are currently unknown. French doctors are trying the impossible. This tragedy has once again alerted world opinion…”

Soma didn't hear the rest, his eyes only fixed on the photo on the screen making any hope of error futile.

“Seishi...” murmured the young man in a faint voice. “This can’t be not true! he burst out.  What would he do... What was he doing there??!! And why is it... Sei no...”

He threw himself on the phone, calling the first number on the list, unused for what seemed to him ages. Endless seconds passed before the call reached France, then came the ringing, cold, regular...

“Please... For pity's sake, answer, anyone... Tell me that's not true...”

His voice died down as he slipped to his knees, the vengeful ring echoing over and over again. He calculated the time quickly. Normally Seishi's parents, his mother at least, should have been there, with some exceptions but... And there wasn't even an answering machine. He moaned.

“No... Sei...”

Soma remained prostrate for several minutes, then suddenly struck the ground with his fist and jumped to his feet.

Notes: For this chapter in particular and the rest, I refer you to the notes at the beginning. Because yes, at that time, cell phones weren't available to everyone, especially not for long-distance calls. Even landlines were a luxury ^^; And that's largely why I didn't "up(to)date" the story, because today's means of communication would have frankly changed everything...

 *And I won't even tell you about the struggle to get phone in Japan. You had to buy a line! Luckily, a colleague who had returned to her parents' house "rented" me hers during my stay, which allowed me to communicate with my family; otherwise, it was very old-fashioned text emails...*