Soma sank into the chair and sighed. He had thought he would never be able to escape from the office in time, and it was already a miracle that he had been allowed to leave his post so abruptly. As for the plane, there was none earlier... Plus the flight... Two days... More than two full days would have passed since the accident upon his arrival. If only he had heard of it right away... If... With ifs, you could go way back. If it hadn't happened, if Seishi hadn't been there... If he hadn't made the biggest mistake of his entire life... and probably Sei’s one, a little more than two years ago...

All day he had tried to reach Seishi's parents, to no avail. Before take-off, he had scanned all the newspapers for information, with no more success. He was enraged. Now freed from the urgency of the preparations, his mind gave free rein to his torment and pain. By all gods, he had never so regretted the excessive length of the flight between Japan and France. This time was quickly cut short when, after a few moments, his tortured mind gave way to the physical exhaustion of his body, plunging him into a heavy sleep.

Soma responded to the sweet smile that warmed his heart and ran to join the figure that had turned away.

“Oh Sei...” he whispered, hugging him, burying his face in the blonde nape of his neck.

“I was so scared...” he whispered again to his companion who did not react.

Soma suddenly felt the full weight of the latter resting on him. He staggered and slumped to the ground, his lifeless body in his arms. His eyes widened in horror but he could utter a sound. Blood... Blood smeared all over Seishi's torso and also dripping from his face like purple tears escaping from closed eyes.

“S... Sei?” he finally managed to articulate. “Sei no!!” he yelled, trying to find out the cause of the hemorrhages. “Sei please...”

Then the blue eyes opened and... the hatred, usually so foreign to Seishi, that was there petrified him. With a gasp he felt Seishi's hands close on his throat.

“What...”

“It's your fault.”, Seishi's icy voice whispered.

His eyes made one last plea before closing and he gave one last silent moan as Seishi's hands tightened mercilessly.

“Have a good trip to hell.”

Soma sat up with a start, his heart racing and his breathing ragged. He looked anxiously around him, but apart from a slightly curious look from his neighbor, no one seemed to be paying attention to him. He sighed and leaned back again. Apparently, he had at least avoided shouting. Kami-sama... This was just a dream... A horrible nightmare rather... Fortunately. He looked at his watch. Only four hours have passed. He set his watch to French time, almost eight more hours to endure.

He decided to freshen up in the restroom. After finishing washing his hands, he couldn't help but glance at himself in the mirror. Under the almost harsh light, he saw an unflattering image. The lighter highlights in his dark hair were accentuated, but the idea of ​​a blow-dry seemed like a distant memory. His short hair was dirty and disheveled. His usually bouffant fringe hung sadly across his forehead. His hazel eyes were awfully dark-circled, and his face looked even more gaunt than usual in this light. His old friends would hardly recognize him—those who used to make fun of the care he took in his appearance.

He sighed and splashed water on his face, lightly slapping himself a few times to wake himself up before leaving to return to his seat.

He thought of his nightmare and, again, wondered what would await him upon arrival.

He hesitated as to what course to follow. Should he go straight to the hospital? No, it was better to get rid of his luggage, however meagre. Then he had to find the hospital that has taken Seishi in and get admitted there. He cursed softly. This lack of information was making him seethe... Reporters had said that Seishi was between life and death. Another day had passed. What was the situation now? The newspapers distributed on board were too old to be of any use. He swallowed painfully. What if... What if he arrives too late... What if the worst had happened... Soma vigorously pushed these dire and terrifying thoughts away. Such a thing was impossible. Oh, by all the gods, he would give anything to get news. At least he was sure that in France he would finally get some... Then... He could not prevent another anguish from gripping him. What if he wasn't allowed to see Seishi? He reassured himself by telling himself that Seishi's parents probably knew nothing about the circumstances of his return to Japan after his year of study in France and what it implied about his and Seishi's shared past... But he was sure that at least one other person would not want his presence and would firmly reject him. He clenched his fists. No matter... He would see Seishi at all costs He certainly wouldn't have made it to Paris to fail so close to him. Then Seishi alone would be the judge. Best friends for life, he had, long ago, made Seishi promise. Would Sei forgive him once more, would he give him a chance to rebuild what he had so stupidly shattered?

He thought again of the photo shown on the news, apparently taken when he left for Africa. He had seemed to him emaciated and pale. But above all, now that he was thinking about it, sad and defeated. In a way, it wasn't Sei... This photo seemed lifeless, without that spark he so desperately, and cruelly, missed now. He shuddered, and tried to forget the dire implications of that idea in the current situation. He was confident. Sei had been taken care of as soon as possible and he knew he would receive the best care. But what the hell was he doing there anyway?! When he left him, Sei enjoyed an envied position and a bright future lay ahead of him in France. So why had he left? Was it a trip, a temporary mission? Given Sei's dedication, it was not surprising. But he had a vague feeling that it was more than that. The little that emerged from the press articles he had found before his departure suggested a well-established mission. What did a long-term mission mean? When had Sei left France? He prayed to all the gods that it had no direct connection to him... without much conviction.

One way or another, it was his fault, and for that, he would never forgive himself. He still suppressed the small insane voice that told him that if he was the cause of Sei's departure then maybe, contrary to appearances, all was not lost. He thought bitterly of the painful message from their friend Sana, which he had received before leaving and to which he had been unable to respond.

The poor Sana, after so long without news, had also been shocked and upset to learn that the man who had not so long ago been his dearest confidant was altogether, in fact in Africa, the victim of an armed attack and between life and death. He promised himself he'd call her as soon as he knew more. Besides, he'd surely need her help managing his affairs in Japan. He sighed, and once again, a familiar thought came back to haunt him… Perhaps if Sei had loved Sana instead…

He was momentarily distracted from his dark thoughts by the arrival of the hostess with refreshments.