LXI

Irene's expression got progressively darker as Isuma spoke.

Several times, Isuma wanted to laugh it off as a joke and leave, but she didn't. She forced herself to keep talking for a painful five minutes.

Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Takahiro would also be waiting to hear from her and would probably be disappointed if she hadn't asked at all.

So she kept going, not stopping until she had covered everything. Isuma had made a list of things she needed to mention and was mentally crossing them off as she went.

Irene didn't interrupt her or even react. She glued her gaze to her laced fingers and didn't move until Isuma had finally finished.

Irene took a deep breath and looked up at Isuma. Managing a smile, she said, "Thank you for thinking about me, Isuma. I'll admit- I'm not in the best place right now, but I'll be fine. I'm working on it-"

"Irene, is it true?" Isuma's voice shook slightly, but she kept her calm demeanor. Irene sighed. "That's unimportant. I don't feel the need to tell you, Isuma. I'm FINE. You have enough responsibilities, and I don't need to be one of them."

She smiled at Isuma sadly before leaving the gym. Isuma set her head on the table, defeated. They couldn't do ANYTHING without Irene- especially if she didn't want the help. Isuma couldn't blame her. Why would she want help from someone she'd barely known for a month?

"It's no use."

Isuma looked up. Jakk came up to her, gazing in the direction Irene had left. "She doesn't want your help. She doesn't want ANYONE'S help. Believe me. I've tried."

Jakk shook his head and glanced at Isuma. He looked sadder than Isuma had ever seen him. "She doesn't even talk to me about it anymore."

"Why?" Isuma asked. Jakk bitterly replied, "Because I tried to help. Irene's not the type to accept assistance- she never was. Her parents raised her to feel ashamed of being dependent on anyone."

"That's pretty awful parenting."

Jakk laughed. "I agree."

"Are you okay with this?" She asked. Jakk managed a smile. "Of course not. She's my best friend, but if she doesn't want my help, I can't help her- at least, not to her knowledge."

Jakk didn't continue, but she understood what he was trying to convey.

***

Irene didn't arrive at her usual time the next day.

Takahiro was the only one at the front desk in the morning. He didn't take notice of her absence until Henry, who was always the last trainee to arrive, checked in. He checked his computer to see if she'd notified the center in advance, but she hadn't sent any texts or emails. Takahiro hesitated, then texted Utsui Sensei about it. He advised Takahiro to reach out to Irene.

He called Khloe first, the official receptionist. She had a dentist appointment and had let them know beforehand. Luckily, she answered quickly, confirming that Irene hadn't sent in an official notice. She suggested asking Jakk.

Isuma walked in when Takahiro was hanging up. She asked, "What's wrong?"

"How do you know something's wrong?" Takahiro questioned. Isuma instantly responded, "Your whole family bends their eyebrows when thinking or worried."

"Ah." Takahiro made a mental note to work on that. "Irene hasn't checked in yet, and she's never this late. She hasn't sent in an official notice or anything, either. I'm going to ask Jakk if he knows anything."

"No. Jakk wouldn't." Isuma looked concerned. "You should ask, though, just in case."

"Let's go." Takahiro shoved everything into his bag and hurried into the hallway, practically running to the gym. Isuma was right on his heels. The trainees all glared at him when he burst into the room. Takahiro immediately approached Jakk, who set down his warm-up equipment. "What's up?"

"Irene's not here, and she hasn't notified us. Do you know anything?" Takahiro questioned urgently. Jakk's face fell. "No, I don't. I'll call her."

He walked to his backpack and dug out his phone. His first two attempts went straight to voicemail. On his third try, Irene picked up. "Hello?"

"Irene, where are you?" Jakk asked, bringing the phone to his ear. "Are you sure? Yeah, Takahiro and Isuma noticed that you didn't come in. I'll let them know. Ok. Bye."

He hung up and looked at them. "She says she has a fever. She sounded okay- I mean, besides the fact that she had a fever, of course. I wouldn't worry about it."

Isuma was relieved. Although she hadn't mentioned her suspicions, she had expected the worse and was grateful it was just a fever. She made a mental note to visit Irene later in the day.

***

Isuma told Takahiro and Iwaizumi she was headed to Irene's apartment before she left. Originally, Iwaizumi had wanted to go along, but both he and Takahiro had to stay behind. So he agreed, on the condition Isuma keep him updated and to keep her phone by her at all times.

She shouldn't have gone alone- no, she shouldn't have gone at all.

Irene's apartment was in a wealthier part of the city. It was part of a gated community in Western Irvine. When she got out of her Uber at the gates, a guard in a booth asked her for a guest pass. After several minutes of searching, she found the pass Irene had procured for her several weeks ago.

The apartment complex was lit up and festive. The residents seemed to be having a party of some sort. Isuma weaved through the groups of people with difficulty and approached Irene's building. She had only been here once and couldn't recall which apartment was Irene's.

Isuma looked around for the nicest-looking person around. A smiling girl in a pretty summer dress caught her eye. She tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me, do you know who Irene is?"

"Yeah, for sure! She's on the floor above me. I don't think she's here though. Sorry!" The girl apologized. Isuma answered, "No, that's fine! Do you know her apartment number?"

"B-717. She's on the seventh floor and the seventeenth apartment. The floors and apartment are all marked." The girl said helpfully. "I hope that works!"

"Yes, thank you!!" Isuma walked towards the building. Two guards were at the door; they waved her in without complaint and shut the door behind her. It was eerily silent compared to the loud partying outside. Isuma took the elevator up to the seventh floor, which was even quieter. Windows lined a hallway with marked doors. She quickly found Irene's apartment and knocked.

No one answered. Isuma pulled out her phone and tried calling Irene, but there was no answer. She knocked again and called, "Irene? It's Isuma! Are you there?"

She absently jiggled the door handle; to her surprise, it twisted. 'Why's her door unlocked?'

After briefly hesitating, Isuma entered the apartment. The lights were all on, so Irene was probably awake.

The apartment was a mess; Isuma felt that something was off- WRONG- but she couldn't place it. Irene's books were scattered around her living room, and her bag was crumpled in a corner. The kitchen counter was covered in instant food packets and dirty dishes. After the living room was the glass doors leading to the balcony. And before them...

Irene?

No. That couldn't- but what else- who else would be on Irene's floor- was that blood?

Isuma's inner medical student kicked in. Within seconds, she recognized three different serious injuries and about a thousand smaller ones. Irene had a big cut above one eye, and her arms and legs were covered in red and purple bruises. She was bleeding from somewhere- where?

And then the anxiety came in. Isuma began shaking, and the noises from the party filtering through the glass doors became unbearably loud. She sank to the floor, tears springing in her eyes. "I-Irene. Irene!"

The front door banged open loudly. Isuma whipped around to see a tall man standing behind her. He didn't seem surprised to see her. Without a single word, he hoisted a baseball bat on his shoulder and came closer. Isuma swallowed. "What- who are you-"

She stopped. The man's similarities to Irene were startling. They had the same brown curls, the same warm skin tone, and the same almond eyes. These features looked beautiful on Irene, but they looked terrible on him.

Irene reached out for the first object near her: a lamp on the coffee table. She stood up and held it out in defense. Gathering all her courage, she said, "Stop. Who are you?"

The man actually stopped. "Who are YOU, sweetheart? You're in MY home, next to MY sister."

"She's- she's not-" Isuma's arm lowered; her protest died in her throat as a terrible memory came to her. Irene DID have a brother. Jakk had mentioned him the previous week. Max? No- Matthew. "How is she-"

The man- Matthew- suddenly lunged and threw his bat. It flew past her at an alarming speed and shattered the glass doors.

Isuma stepped over Irene, stumbling back and stepping on the glass. Several large pieces stabbed her feet. Her lamp crashed to the floor and rolled right underneath Matthew's next step.

He slipped on it and fell straight on the broken glass; he howled in pain, screaming so loudly the people below were sure to hear. Isuma hoisted herself up.

And ran.

She threw the front door open and ran to the stairs, leaving a trail of blood. The glass in her feet dug in further and further with each step she took, but that was the least of her problems now. Her anxiety was overwhelming; she could barely think for how hard she was shaking.

Isuma wrenched open the door to the staircase and ran down. The stairwell was empty, making it easier to run down them. With a jump of fear, she heard Matthew pound into the stairwell, roaring. An involuntary scream escaped her throat as she took the steps three at a time. A huddle of people was drinking at the next turn; Isuma bolted into the hallway of apartments instead, where her feet finally gave out.

They were in terrible shape; Isuma could barely make out the glass because of the layer of blood. She collapsed below a window, shaking. Within seconds, Matthew barrelled into the hallway, angrier than before. He threw his bat at her- he must have retrieved it before pursuing her- and yet again, it hit the glass above her instead.

The windows that Isuma had admired not even ten minutes ago were floor-to-ceiling. They were designed for maximum view of the rest of the complex- but now, when much of it had shattered, it was a massive hole in the building. Isuma took a step back from the edge- the ground looked dangerously far below. She was on the fourth or fifth floor- if she fell, she'd surely die.

Matthew suddenly grabbed her arm and wrenched her forward. "You're coming with me-"

"Let go!!" Isuma shook him off violently, half-sobbing. Matthew didn't loosen his iron grip on her arm; her resistance only angered him further- and brought plenty of attention. The huddle of people from the stairwell was yelling at him, albeit drunk. People on the ground had noticed and were circling, but leaving a wide spot open. Isuma was dazed and confused- why were they avoiding such a large space? Had the glass fallen there??

One of the men in the group broke free and shouted at Matthew, who angrily shouted in return, "GET BACK!!!!"

The man moved even closer. Isuma attempted to shake off Matthew again. He swiveled towards her in rage- and pushed her.

The fall seemed to take an eternity, although it was certainly only two seconds at the most. Isuma was already blacking out from sheer exhaustion and anxiety.

And then she hit the water.

And sank.

Deeper.

Deeper.

Deeper.

And then.

Gone. 

lmao we love angst <3

i just poured all my negativity into this so now im in a better mood 

love yall <3