There are lots of things Tsubasa understands. He understands how to get small children to stop crying (most of the time at least). He understands how to make omelets. He understands how he ended up in the baseball club room putting away equipment for some of his friends (despite having stopped playing baseball long ago). What he cannot understand his why the sky is red, why the lights are off, and why everything is on the floor or tipped over. 

Wait, that last bit he can piece together. An earthquake is distinct in his mind, one that knocked him over and caused him to bump his head on the floor. Nothing too bad, Tsubasa thinks. It can’t be any worse than taking a spike to the face, which he’s done many times before. What worries him isn’t the fact that everything spins a little bit when he sits up. It’s the fact that he still can’t piece everything together and, frankly, apart from taking a dose of LSD, he can’t think of any reason for the sky to be red. The worst part is that it’s almost dead silent save for his own breathing and that unnerves him. 

Luckily, his bag is still on his back and his trusty umbrella is laying right on the floor beside him. Something seems off though, and it’s not just the fact that the sky has suddenly changed colors. Maybe it’s the silence, because even though school has been long over, he knows there should still be people here, especially in the wing of the school that houses all the club rooms. There should still be chatter. In fact, now that he thinks about it, it was a little bit weird that the baseball team asked him to lock up for them. Plus, he can’t quite remember the captain’s (he shudders at the word, because he already knows that next year the current captain has plans of giving him the title) reason for cancelling volleyball practice. He does remember it being a rather flimsy excuse though. That strange sense of off-ness is what prompts him to grab a baseball bat from one of the bags he was carrying, along with deciding to pocket the keys to the room. After all, it doesn’t seem like anyone’s around to miss them. 

With his umbrella folded up and put into his bag, baseball bat in one hand and keys in his pocket, Tsubasa finally forced himself to get up off the floor. It didn’t make his head spin like sitting up did, so he takes that as a sign that he doesn’t have any head trauma. Possible yet unlikely head trauma notwithstanding, Tsubasa decided it was probably best to see if there were other people around. 

The door to the club room creaks a little bit too much for his liking when he opens it, locking it on his way out. After all, he has the keys with him so it’s not like he couldn’t get back into the room if we wanted to. The silence really set in once Tsubasa got out into the hallway. Almost without thinking about it, he started whistling, letting the simple tune that was coming from his lips calm him down just a bit.

In fact, he’s so caught up in his whistling that he doesn’t notice the noise of other people coming from the end of the hall. Actually, he only noticed it when he was about walk right into a girl, who look to be reaching for something. It registered in his head that he was Reiko Nagatani, but currently wasn’t his major concern. That prize fell to the fact that there was quite a bit of blood in the hallway. Instinctively clutching his baseball bat tighter, Tsubasa let out the single sentence “Wow, that’s a lot of blood”. Maybe “what happened here” or “is everyone okay” would have been more appropriate things to say, but as his eyes grew wide, that was all he could think about.