[Beneath the moonlight, as Hinata keeps his gaze forward, it would be impossible not to notice the subtle melancholy of his expression as those words leave his lips. For a moment, the urge to chuckle at them washes over Komaeda—yet with his lithe fingers still curled into the sheer curtain, all he wants to really do is pull that cloth around them and shield Hinata from such feelings. Self-love isn't something Komaeda knows, perhaps a confidence in some of his good sides (as few as they are), but that's it.
He's quiet, quiet enough that he can almost hear the disquiet that buzzes through Hinata's mind as he once more rejects his thanks. Stubborn Hinata, he muses to himself as his own brow furrows, if only he would let Komaeda appreciate him.]
You know, before you woke me up from my coma... I was dreaming about a world where I didn't have my ultimate luck. [Komaeda's tone drops, low enough that the crashing tide just beyond that window might even drown it out, but he keeps his attention focused on the way moonlight catches Hinata's features.] In that dream, I had friends... true friends... and my parents were alive. I was happy, so happy in fact that I wished the entire world was as talentless as I was.
[He steps forward, and with his stride he tugs that curtain again until it shields Hinata's view of the ocean. Look at me, only me. The gaze Komaeda settles on him is a melancholy of his own, but beneath it, his smile is bright.]
But I'm glad I have my ultimate luck. It's given to me just as much as it's taken... because if it weren't for my ultimate luck, I'm not sure our paths would have ever crossed.
[Komaeda's head tilts, angling so that he can hold Hinata's gaze with his own. Beneath long lashes, his eyes fall half-lidded.]
I'm glad you're you, Hajime... no, I'm relieved you're you. Not Kamukura, or anyone else but the you from the simulation. The one I became friends with. So... if you're ever unhappy, tell me. You listened to my troubles, so I only want to do the same for you... okay?
[Hajime's gaze is a distant one. Even though Nagito's stepped forward (to draw the curtain across the sky and the sea, leaving Hajime nowhere to look but at him), Hajime feels far away from him, no, from everything, in a weightless way, like he isn't even here. This entire scene, he could be watching it from the far back row of an old cinema.
That's some dream Nagito had... What would it be like, having a dream like that, a dream where you were granted a wish you didn't even know you had? Hajime's never had that kind of dream - his have been either too absurd to mean anything, or based on past events, memories rewound in his mind.
A world where Nagito wasn't lucky, huh... What would that be like? When Nagito's luck works in strange, unpredictable ways, it's hard to say if his luck had anything to do with their paths crossing. Kamukura might have detected the regularities in that irregular luck, after some thought, and Hajime could do the same now, if he pauses to think about it, but he leaves it. He's more focused on what Nagito said, about being glad... A small smile appears on Hajime's face.]
That I got to meet you on the island, and spend time with you, and get to know you better... I don't know whether it's luck or not, but I'm still glad for it.
[A world where Nagito isn't lucky, Hajime can't imagine what that world would look like. But it sounds like that world made Nagito really happy for a while... maybe, in this world, Hajime's not the only one who feels alone. The reason for it might be different, but even so, isn't it still the same feeling?]
Yeah. I'm glad you're you as well, Nagito.
[And if he feels relief, it's not relief that Nagito's Nagito (though there's no doubt he's glad about that). It's more like, if Hajime can believe what Nagito's saying - and this time, he really wants to - then Nagito still thinks of him as the same person, the same Hajime Hinata, that he met in the simulation. He's not Kamukura. He's not a stranger. He might be someone Nagito can trust. He... He definitely wants to be that.
It'd be difficult, and awkward, and even embarrassing, to admit his unhappiness to Nagito. There's so much of it now that he's carrying the burden of Kamukura with him. But... he wants to trust Nagito, doesn't he? To have Nagito's trust, as well, to understand him a little better, to be comfortable around him, with him...
Cautiously, Hajime draws in a breath. His gaze slips for just a moment, out of nervousness.]
But, is it just my troubles you'd be happy to listen to? No, I guess what I'm really trying to ask is... whether that's all you want me to share with you.
[If that's all, then he won't say it. But if Nagito's open to hearing more, then... this might be the best time to share it. The future he wants, the world he wants, it won't just happen. It's something he has to create.]
[Komaeda knows that it's merely phrasing, that given the context of their conversation, he would be silly to hope for anything more. Yet, it's in this moment where he remembers his confession in the simulation so vividly—and how he had chickened out at the last second to frame his words of love in a way where Hinata might not be able to know his true intentions.
He was coaxed then by the same feeling now: his stomach, flipping and twisting into nervous knots as he watches the lines of the other's face and how he turns his gaze away with his own nerves. It would be too forward to touch Hinata—no, his heart probably wouldn't be able to handle it—even if he really wants to just take that large hand in his own, and give it a reassuring squeeze.]
Would it be too greedy to say that I want to know every thing? [Komaeda's voice is soft once more, and he turns so that they're shoulder to shoulder. His good hand finds a fold on the sheer curtain, and it flutters the length of it between his fingers as he fidgets.] The good things, the bad things... your favorite things to eat, and your favorite things to see... what you hate, what you love... I want to know them all.
[Thank god, he thinks, for the curtain shielding their faces from the moonlight once more. He can feel the way his cheeks burn red, all the way to the cusps of his ears.]
I want you to know about me, too, Hajime. Even if my life is mostly sad stories... is it okay if I share them all with you? Would you even believe me... if I did?
[Then, is now the time to tell him? ...Hajime's throat tightens at the thought. What he wants to say, what he's wanted to say for a while, what he thinks he should tell Nagito now, while they have this time together... it's not going to be easy to say.
If he was still Kamukura... no. Kamukura wouldn't even have the feelings that Hajime has now, would he. Hajime shouldn't think in terms of what Kamukura would do. He isn't Izuru Kamukura anymore. He's... his own self. Hajime Hinata. He has aspirations, he dreams, he has dreams, and feelings, as well, feelings of regret, remorse, and- and love, and he's nervous, and he's more human than Kamukura, right?
Hajime's words are slow to come, and at first they're not exactly the words he wants to say. But they're audible enough, and gradually the silence dividing him from Nagito fades away.]
I... Well, there's a lot. I wouldn't really know where to begin.
[When Nagito says he wants to know every thing, does he really mean that? Or is it one of those things that people say, just a generalization that doesn't mean anything? The curtain shimmers between Nagito's fingers, and the want to reach out and intertwine their hands is aching inside Hajime's chest.
The good things, the bad things, his... favorite things to eat? And-- and see? What he hates, and what he loves? Hajime's breath catches in his throat at the sound of that word. It's low and soft in Nagito's voice, the way it had been when Nagito first said it, back in the simulation. Hajime's reaction now is hardly any different than it was then - his heart is thudding so loudly, it's hurting his ears.]
But... you know, there is something I want to tell you, something that is important to me, and if you're happy to listen, then I probably shouldn't put it off any longer. So, um.
[God, it's like Hajime's ribcage is tightening. No, like every part of him is tightening, or being pulled taut, he's so nervous, dammit.]
...S-Sorry, this is kind of hard to say. [He takes in a breath, as if to encourage himself, then lets it out forcefully, squeezing his fists.] Nagito, I...
I want to know more about you, too. Anything you want to share with me, I'll listen to it, gladly. Even if it takes me some time to believe it all, and even if it's nearly impossible to believe, I still want to try. I want to understand you better, Nagito.
[Hajime's stare has been averted all this time. He's been talking at the curtain. But now he pauses, tries to turn and face Nagito, to meet his gaze, if Nagito's even gazing. If Hajime's really going to say the next part, he wants to look Nagito in the eye when he says it. What he's about to say, he'll only be able to say once. He doesn't want to screw this up - he wants to do it right.]
When I said I cared about you, I meant it. [Is that clear enough? Will Nagito know what he means by that? What if he doesn't? No, Hajime should just come out and say it. 'What he loves', huh?]
Actually, Nagito, I...
[He can say it, right? Nagito's used this word before, so it shouldn't be weird if Hajime uses it now. There really isn't any other way to say it. He swallows, his gaze still connected to Nagito's. He can say it.]
[Seeing Hinata nervous isn't a rare sight in the slightest, in fact, it almost feels more normal than when he's confident... or assertive. It reminds Komaeda that this truly is the Hinata he's come to know and care for; but with the way he fumbles his words, and how his tongue seems to weighted in his mouth, slowly Komaeda starts to feel nervous too. What sort of admission has this brevity? What could be so important that it can't wait until when he isn't as fatigued?
His heart thunders in his breast—so hard it feels like it might burst through his ribs. For a moment, he almost feels sick. Like vertigo is running him over and the blood that's rushing through his veins will burn him from the inside out. Still, regardless of the thoughts that race through his mind, Komaeda retains his gentle smile. Whether it's good or bad, he'll accept it.
Then those words reach his ears, trembling with nerves, and it's like time has stopped. His heart's no longer racing, rather, it's dropped down into the pit of his stomach, where it's doing backflips. He hasn't realized the way his fingers have curled into the curtain, gripping it so tightly that the rod above creaks beneath the sudden strain.]
If this is a joke... it's a cruel one.
[The words escape his lips before he even has a chance to think about them, because he's too distracted with keeping himself from crying. His face feels hot. His eyes sting. He pulls the curtain between them, hiding himself from Hinata.]
You have to tell me if this is a joke, Hajime, otherwise... I'll—
[He'll what? His own voice is trembling. He doesn't want to believe, or more like, he can't believe it. How could Hinata love him? After everything he's done? Even before, when he found out Hinata was just some talentless reserve course student with a manufactured talent... he was so angry with himself for caring for him the way he did. And now... can he really hope for those returned feelings?]
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He's quiet, quiet enough that he can almost hear the disquiet that buzzes through Hinata's mind as he once more rejects his thanks. Stubborn Hinata, he muses to himself as his own brow furrows, if only he would let Komaeda appreciate him.]
You know, before you woke me up from my coma... I was dreaming about a world where I didn't have my ultimate luck. [Komaeda's tone drops, low enough that the crashing tide just beyond that window might even drown it out, but he keeps his attention focused on the way moonlight catches Hinata's features.] In that dream, I had friends... true friends... and my parents were alive. I was happy, so happy in fact that I wished the entire world was as talentless as I was.
[He steps forward, and with his stride he tugs that curtain again until it shields Hinata's view of the ocean. Look at me, only me. The gaze Komaeda settles on him is a melancholy of his own, but beneath it, his smile is bright.]
But I'm glad I have my ultimate luck. It's given to me just as much as it's taken... because if it weren't for my ultimate luck, I'm not sure our paths would have ever crossed.
[Komaeda's head tilts, angling so that he can hold Hinata's gaze with his own. Beneath long lashes, his eyes fall half-lidded.]
I'm glad you're you, Hajime... no, I'm relieved you're you. Not Kamukura, or anyone else but the you from the simulation. The one I became friends with. So... if you're ever unhappy, tell me. You listened to my troubles, so I only want to do the same for you... okay?
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That's some dream Nagito had... What would it be like, having a dream like that, a dream where you were granted a wish you didn't even know you had? Hajime's never had that kind of dream - his have been either too absurd to mean anything, or based on past events, memories rewound in his mind.
A world where Nagito wasn't lucky, huh... What would that be like? When Nagito's luck works in strange, unpredictable ways, it's hard to say if his luck had anything to do with their paths crossing. Kamukura might have detected the regularities in that irregular luck, after some thought, and Hajime could do the same now, if he pauses to think about it, but he leaves it. He's more focused on what Nagito said, about being glad... A small smile appears on Hajime's face.]
That I got to meet you on the island, and spend time with you, and get to know you better... I don't know whether it's luck or not, but I'm still glad for it.
[A world where Nagito isn't lucky, Hajime can't imagine what that world would look like. But it sounds like that world made Nagito really happy for a while... maybe, in this world, Hajime's not the only one who feels alone. The reason for it might be different, but even so, isn't it still the same feeling?]
Yeah. I'm glad you're you as well, Nagito.
[And if he feels relief, it's not relief that Nagito's Nagito (though there's no doubt he's glad about that). It's more like, if Hajime can believe what Nagito's saying - and this time, he really wants to - then Nagito still thinks of him as the same person, the same Hajime Hinata, that he met in the simulation. He's not Kamukura. He's not a stranger. He might be someone Nagito can trust. He... He definitely wants to be that.
It'd be difficult, and awkward, and even embarrassing, to admit his unhappiness to Nagito. There's so much of it now that he's carrying the burden of Kamukura with him. But... he wants to trust Nagito, doesn't he? To have Nagito's trust, as well, to understand him a little better, to be comfortable around him, with him...
Cautiously, Hajime draws in a breath. His gaze slips for just a moment, out of nervousness.]
But, is it just my troubles you'd be happy to listen to? No, I guess what I'm really trying to ask is... whether that's all you want me to share with you.
[If that's all, then he won't say it. But if Nagito's open to hearing more, then... this might be the best time to share it. The future he wants, the world he wants, it won't just happen. It's something he has to create.]
no subject
He was coaxed then by the same feeling now: his stomach, flipping and twisting into nervous knots as he watches the lines of the other's face and how he turns his gaze away with his own nerves. It would be too forward to touch Hinata—no, his heart probably wouldn't be able to handle it—even if he really wants to just take that large hand in his own, and give it a reassuring squeeze.]
Would it be too greedy to say that I want to know every thing? [Komaeda's voice is soft once more, and he turns so that they're shoulder to shoulder. His good hand finds a fold on the sheer curtain, and it flutters the length of it between his fingers as he fidgets.] The good things, the bad things... your favorite things to eat, and your favorite things to see... what you hate, what you love... I want to know them all.
[Thank god, he thinks, for the curtain shielding their faces from the moonlight once more. He can feel the way his cheeks burn red, all the way to the cusps of his ears.]
I want you to know about me, too, Hajime. Even if my life is mostly sad stories... is it okay if I share them all with you? Would you even believe me... if I did?
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If he was still Kamukura... no. Kamukura wouldn't even have the feelings that Hajime has now, would he. Hajime shouldn't think in terms of what Kamukura would do. He isn't Izuru Kamukura anymore. He's... his own self. Hajime Hinata. He has aspirations, he dreams, he has dreams, and feelings, as well, feelings of regret, remorse, and- and love, and he's nervous, and he's more human than Kamukura, right?
Hajime's words are slow to come, and at first they're not exactly the words he wants to say. But they're audible enough, and gradually the silence dividing him from Nagito fades away.]
I... Well, there's a lot. I wouldn't really know where to begin.
[When Nagito says he wants to know every thing, does he really mean that? Or is it one of those things that people say, just a generalization that doesn't mean anything? The curtain shimmers between Nagito's fingers, and the want to reach out and intertwine their hands is aching inside Hajime's chest.
The good things, the bad things, his... favorite things to eat? And-- and see? What he hates, and what he loves? Hajime's breath catches in his throat at the sound of that word. It's low and soft in Nagito's voice, the way it had been when Nagito first said it, back in the simulation. Hajime's reaction now is hardly any different than it was then - his heart is thudding so loudly, it's hurting his ears.]
But... you know, there is something I want to tell you, something that is important to me, and if you're happy to listen, then I probably shouldn't put it off any longer. So, um.
[God, it's like Hajime's ribcage is tightening. No, like every part of him is tightening, or being pulled taut, he's so nervous, dammit.]
...S-Sorry, this is kind of hard to say. [He takes in a breath, as if to encourage himself, then lets it out forcefully, squeezing his fists.] Nagito, I...
I want to know more about you, too. Anything you want to share with me, I'll listen to it, gladly. Even if it takes me some time to believe it all, and even if it's nearly impossible to believe, I still want to try. I want to understand you better, Nagito.
[Hajime's stare has been averted all this time. He's been talking at the curtain. But now he pauses, tries to turn and face Nagito, to meet his gaze, if Nagito's even gazing. If Hajime's really going to say the next part, he wants to look Nagito in the eye when he says it. What he's about to say, he'll only be able to say once. He doesn't want to screw this up - he wants to do it right.]
When I said I cared about you, I meant it. [Is that clear enough? Will Nagito know what he means by that? What if he doesn't? No, Hajime should just come out and say it. 'What he loves', huh?]
Actually, Nagito, I...
[He can say it, right? Nagito's used this word before, so it shouldn't be weird if Hajime uses it now. There really isn't any other way to say it. He swallows, his gaze still connected to Nagito's. He can say it.]
I think I might be in love with you.
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His heart thunders in his breast—so hard it feels like it might burst through his ribs. For a moment, he almost feels sick. Like vertigo is running him over and the blood that's rushing through his veins will burn him from the inside out. Still, regardless of the thoughts that race through his mind, Komaeda retains his gentle smile. Whether it's good or bad, he'll accept it.
Then those words reach his ears, trembling with nerves, and it's like time has stopped. His heart's no longer racing, rather, it's dropped down into the pit of his stomach, where it's doing backflips. He hasn't realized the way his fingers have curled into the curtain, gripping it so tightly that the rod above creaks beneath the sudden strain.]
If this is a joke... it's a cruel one.
[The words escape his lips before he even has a chance to think about them, because he's too distracted with keeping himself from crying. His face feels hot. His eyes sting. He pulls the curtain between them, hiding himself from Hinata.]
You have to tell me if this is a joke, Hajime, otherwise... I'll—
[He'll what? His own voice is trembling. He doesn't want to believe, or more like, he can't believe it. How could Hinata love him? After everything he's done? Even before, when he found out Hinata was just some talentless reserve course student with a manufactured talent... he was so angry with himself for caring for him the way he did. And now... can he really hope for those returned feelings?]
I won't forgive you if you're lying to me.