Jupei. His name was Junpei. The fact that Isamu only realized this when the other boy was suffering from a massive psychological breakdown came as a stark reminder to Isamu: despite what everybody may like to pretend....the students at this school, for the most part, were probably not as accepting of their conditions as Isamu was. This was one of those moments where his cavalier attitude bit him in the ass. There was some stew on the wall and pooling on the ground. The rice had gone all over after Junpei swiped it off the counter. Sighing, Isamu went over to the wall and pressed a small button, calling a nurse immediately. The kid's hands had to be scorched pretty bad. He grabbed the pot by the sides, but given the circumstances....Isamu didn't hold that against him. He'd probably assumed that nobody was around. Still, he had to question the logic behind Junpei's actions: why do that in a public place at all? Anybody could have walked in and noticed. 

Still, he felt bad. He didn't know that such a reaction would have been the result of his comment. It was simply meant as a way to help out a fellow student. And it had only done the exact opposite. Sighing as he started cleaning up the stew and rice, Isamu raised his head as a nurse arrived after his page. "There's a student, Junpei, who burned himself on his stew. He ran off into the dorm, but I'm not sure if he went to the bathroom to clean himself off or to his room. He was doing the make-up for his facial prosthesis." A facial prosthesis. He could only frown at the nurse as the man went up the stairs in search of Junpei. Could he tell that this was Isamu's fault? Probably, the guilt in his eyes was obvious. 

Sitting on the couch, Isamu dropped his face into his hands, running his four fingers through his hair in frustration. [i]This is my fault. This is my damn fault. I should've just shut up. I know not everybody makes jokes about themselves like lobster boy, but hell, I didn't expect THAT! How, how COULD I have expected that?![/i] Taking a few deep breaths, he put his hands onto his legs and forced himself to his feet. John McClane could wait. Right now, there was cleaning to be done.