[So Nagito remembers, huh... When some of the others woke up, it was with only a few patchy memories of what had happened in the Neo World Program. There were even one or two who completely forgot they had died in the simulation by the time they were out of it... A pretty vocal part of Hajime had been hoping that Nagito would wake up with no memory of what he'd done on the fifth island, but Nagito remembers, and Hajime will have to work with that.
But he can. He's going to.]
I wasn't going to leave you. You know, I-- I wouldn't do something like that.
[Hajime's been saying this a lot recently. Some of the others, watching Hajime struggle to wake Nagito these past few weeks, had been convinced that Nagito just wasn't going to wake up at all, no matter what Hajime tried doing. Some had even begun encouraging Hajime to just let him be, to just give up. But Hajime wasn't going to do something like that. He wouldn't. He'd gotten all the others out of the sim. If he could do that for them, he would do it for Nagito, as well.
And, besides...
No, he can think about that later. Maybe even talk about it with Nagito, once Nagito's awake enough to really talk.
As it is, Nagito's heavily overslept, and... scarily light everywhere else, Hajime realizes, as he slings his other arm around Nagito's waist and gradually lifts him up. Nagito had been getting his nutrients through a tube since he first went into the pod, and he'd been in the pod a lot longer than anyone else was, but still, Hajime didn't expect him to be this skinny. It makes sense, but even so, it's confronting.
As Hajime helps Nagito out of the pod, all the tubes and wires that were connected to him are shedded from his body, all having been disconnected when the pod was shut off and opened. The headband is still around Nagito's head, but that'll come off easily, once Nagito's ready for the feeling of fingers on his forehead, behind his ears, at the nape of his neck, on his face. It'll be more sensation than he's had in a long time - it might be too much all at once, if Hajime isn't careful with his timing.
Hajime rises slowly, unfolding his legs from underneath himself, encouraging Nagito's to do the same. He pauses when he reaches his full height, to catch his breath, to let Nagito find his.
He can't begin to explain why he's so glad to see Nagito right now. He will, once Nagito is ready to hear it. But for now, Hajime keeps silent, and lets Nagito focus on reorienting himself to the real world.]
[As he settles onto his feet, Komaeda suddenly feels both weightless and as if he's five hundred pounds heavy all at once. He can feel his knees shake and buckle beneath him, and as Hinata's hands support him, he's forced to keep his good hand on the other's shoulder just so he doesn't collapse right there. His bony fingers dig into the other boy's shoulder, his weak grip shaking as he steadies himself even as Hinata rises up to his full height.]
Haah... you're a fool, Hajime. [Komaeda huffs, even if his expression looks more pained than it does angry. How is it that even now, he can't even summon the courage to be angry? After he died in the simulation, after he was forced to live in that false world where he wished for talent to disappear, even after Hajime rescued him via World Destroyer... he couldn't be angry.]
Of course you wouldn't give up on trash like me, you're just that sort of guy. A stupid Reserve Course student who sticks his nose where it doesn't belong...
[His brow furrows, but he bows his head forward, ready for those hands to unhook him from the headband that's still attached to him. His left hand or rather, the left hand attached to him, is hugged to his middle like a shameful item being kept away from Hinata. But amidst the swirling despair of all the evil he has perpetuated, the murder game in the simulation, and his pitiful dream—Komaeda can still feel the flicker of hope that resides within him.
Suddenly, his face feels hot. It feels like it's on fire, and he can feel the sting of tears in his eyes. His shoulders tense, up towards his ears, as beads roll down his cheeks.]
[Hajime rolls his eyes a little where Nagito can't see, but not out of annoyance or irritation. He's never liked hearing Nagito put himself down, but right now, he's almost - weirdly - relieved to hear it. Nagito still sounds like himself, still is himself - he's still Nagito, still definitely the Nagito who Hajime met on Jabberwock Island, the Nagito who Hajime became... well, not exactly friends with, or close to, but...
Whatever he and Nagito did become during their time in the simulation, Hajime can only hope it'll translate well into the real world. Maybe it'll even strengthen from here on? If he and Nagito can get even closer from here onward, then... Hajime's chest surges at the thought.
--Or maybe it's-- seizing?
Because when he glances at Nagito, he sees that-- that Nagito is--
Okay, this is not good. This is seriously not... Thinking that Nagito's just overwhelmed by the light and sound (in the way Mahiru and Mikan were - they also came out of their pods in tears), Hajime half-walks, half-carries him to one of the chairs beside the monitors. It's a swivel chair on wheels, so it rolls and turns a little as he eases Nagito into it. Not wanting Nagito to be any more over-stimulated than he already is, Hajime grips the armrest of the chair, keeping it as still as he can.
The blue light of the monitor gleams along the side of Nagito's face, along the wet line left by the first few tears. Not looking away from Nagito, Hajime's reaching across the desktop for the box of tissues someone silently left him a few days ago.
But there's nothing sticking out of the box that he can grab, and putting a hand through the plastic opening, his fingers touch only cardboard. Surprised, he glances at the tissue box. When did the tissues run out...? He glances back at Nagito.]
Sorry, I don't have... [He trails off. What did Nagito just say?] Hey. Nagito. Don't... don't talk like that. As if I-- as if we'd just leave you behind. You're-- [Hajime creases his brow. He can handle hearing Nagito pick on himself, but this, he's not going to tolerate, or even listen to.] You're not worth anything less than anyone else is, all right? So there's no way we'd ever just give up on you. That's-- I, I can't believe you'd even think that...!
[But it's like Nagito wanted them to give up on him. The tears won't stop. ...For a moment, and not for the first time, Hajime regrets that he and Nagito aren't closer - because if they were, the lack of tissues wouldn't be a problem. Hajime could just take his hands to the sides of Nagito's face, and smooth the tears away himself.
But they're not so close that Hajime can do that. So Hajime keeps one hand on the armrest of the chair, and the other on the edge of the desk.]
[Placed in that office chair, Komaeda sinks into it as if he's a limp doll. His head rolls to one side, his arms—no, just his left arm—rests bonelessly in his lap as Hinata continues to fuss over him. On some level, he's happy.
Despite not knowing what happened after he died in the simulation, they made it out, and he knows that only Hinata would be able to pull it off. Or was it Kamukura? Was Kamukura still inside of Hinata, even now? He raises his tearful gaze to meet the one that stares down at him with worry creasing its brow. Komaeda notices only then that Hinata's eyes are mismatched.]
What's with that...? [The words are a soft huff of mocking laughter, and despite the tears that still roll down his cheeks and cling to his long lashes, Komaeda forces a weak smile across his face.] Getting so worked up over the guy who tried to kill you... you really are an idiot, Hajime.
[Still, his good hand curls into the fabric of Hinata's shirt with a grip that refuses to let go. This warmth, this attention. Is it okay to be selfish? Is it okay to use it to fight that despair that's toiling away within him? It's with that grip that Komaeda pulls himself forward and smears his face across Hinata's shoulder, wiping his tears off with the thin cotton.]
Stop making that face, Hajime... If you don't I...
[He'll what? Get the wrong idea? He closes his eyes, the words, just barely on the tip of his tongue... Komaeda swallows them down, and pats his hand against that firm, supportive shoulder.]
...Everyone's going to make fun of you, Mr. Reserve Course.
...Like I said, that doesn't matter anymore. Even if you tried to kill me, I-- I wasn't about to let you die. And--
[He's cut off. His words, his thoughts, it's all cut off and shut up when his shirt is grabbed and tugged at-- Nagito's hand is right there and pulling on the fabric, pulling it toward him, or pulling himself toward it--? Nagito's hold is so close to the left of Hajime's chest that Hajime almost thinks it's like-- and then Nagito's face is right there, on Hajime's shoulder. Against it, nose pressing in.
Is Nagito using his sleeve as a-- yeah, he is. Smudged across the fabric, Nagito's tears seep damply through, and Hajime feels them like warm fingertips on the skin of his shoulder.
He swallows. He has no idea what to say. What face does Nagito think he's making? He... he doesn't even care.]
Does it matter if they do? I don't have to listen to them if I don't want to.
[If Nagito's making a joke, Hajime's completely missing it. Even with his head full of talent, Hajime's still not great at catching social cues. But he's not even in the mood for jokes right now - he wants Nagito to take him seriously when he says:]
...Anyway, I don't think they'd do something like that, not when they know how much time I spent trying to wake you up.
[For now, Komaeda keeps his face in Hinata's shoulder, and from that spot he can feel the way the other's voice rumbles in his throat. It's visceral, almost too real. They didn't have a skinship within the simulation, but still, it almost seems like... for a moment, he hasn't woken up at all.
Komaeda lifts his head, gazing past Hinata's shoulder and towards the far wall. This room is lined with all kind of unrecognizable things. Wires and tubes and pods, all emptied, with his own being the most recent edition. This chair that he sits in, was it brought in for Hinata? Those tissues, too.
How long had he been waiting? Hoping? He said months, right?]
That's why Sleeping Beauty was woken up with a kiss, you know.
[It's a tasteless joke, one that only earns a short huff of laughter from Komaeda as he says it, but then he pushes himself off of Hinata's shoulder. His gaze is lowered, no, averted. He can't really meet those hopeful eyes, can he? What does Hinata want from him, expect from him? He believes in a Komaeda of the past, probably.]
Anyways... I'm sure everyone else disagreed with waking me up, and now you're asking me to face them again... you really like putting people in difficult situations, don't you?
[He pauses, waiting out the silence for a few seconds.]
Well? Are you going to help me back up? Take responsibility... since you wanted me back so badly.
[This joke, Hajime does catch, and he-- doesn't laugh, exactly, but does let out a series of short, broken sighs that would sound like laughter if they weren't completely noiseless.
His thoughts are just as quiet - he isn't about to tell Nagito that he's right, that the others were encouraging Hajime to give up on Nagito for a while there. But--]
Since when did I ask you to face them again?
[Frowning, Hajime brings his hands around the back of Nagito's head, feeling through the thin - feathery? soft? ...no, this is not the time, so just thin for now - strands of hair.
Fingers locating the clasp at the center back of the headband, Hajime unfastens it with a soundless click, and the headband comes apart in a ribbon of metallic strips. Hajime sets it, undone, on the table, making a mental note to put it away later.]
I'm not about to make you do something you don't want to do. The others can wait, if you want them to.
[Putting Nagito in an uncomfortable situation is the last thing he wants to do-- no. He doesn't even want to do it.
And it probably would be uncomfortable. Nagito's right. As much as Hajime would like to say that everyone would be glad to see Nagito again, he's not about to lie to him.
He's not about to lie to him, which means he's not going to refute that last thing, either. Wanted him back so badly, huh...? Hajime smiles - a little ruefully, because even though Nagito's right, and Hajime did want him back, he didn't expect Nagito to turn it into a taunt.
...He's not sure exactly what Nagito has in mind, but if Nagito really wants him to take responsibility...
He comes around Nagito's right hand side, and encourages Nagito's hand and arm back on to his shoulders. Instead of guiding Nagito to his feet, though, Hajime scoops his other arm under the bend in Nagito's legs and tries lifting him out of the chair. It's a little embarrassing - for Nagito - but if Nagito's going to tease Hajime like that, it's-- it's not undeserved.]
[It probably shouldn't feel nice—Hinata's fingers, combing through his hair—but it does. The gentle way they thread through his hair has his skin prickling in gooseflesh as he awkwardly sits there, waiting to be disconnected from the remaining wires.]
You say that, but everyone will avoid me anyways.
[This time, he doesn't laugh. There's something lonely about the words, or maybe it's bitterness. With the new, uneasy combination of all his memories, there's a part of him that knows better now; but there's still that part shrouded in the dark, the part that wishes he had succeeded—or at the very least, stayed in a coma. Perhaps everyone else has ways of life they can return to, but not him.
No, right now, this is probably the unluckiest situation ever.
Komaeda doesn't have much time to wallow in that self-pity, though. Rather, before he even realizes it, Hinata's putting his arm around his shoulders again; but before Komaeda can try to hoist himself up with that anchor, Hinata scoops him up into his arms. A sharp yelp of surprise escapes him, his eyes suddenly blown wide as his pallid face darkens with his embarrassment.]
W-Wait, Hajime! [He smacks his limp left hand against the other boy's chest in protest,] p-put me down, what if someone sees? I'm not an old man, you know!
[He doesn't mean to tighten his grip on Nagito's legs and torso, but he can't help it, he's so tense. And not just because he's has to keep his back and arms upright, or his chest braced against each smack of the hand.]
I'm not-- You're the one who said you wanted me to--!
[It really doesn't matter to Hajime if someone sees, though - by this point, it's probably no secret to them how he... um, how he feels about Nagito. In fact, he'd be surprised if they didn't know... He's never said anything, but the effort he'd been putting into trying to wake Nagito up, the way he'd stayed up late in the pod room on most nights, skipped social gatherings and parties just to spend more time working on safely disconnecting Nagito from the Neo World Program... all of that should have made it obvious. Makoto and Byakuya had even seen him get overwhelmed by frustration and cry more than once...
After all that, he thinks he might actually want the others to see him like this, with Nagito in his arms, Nagito, finally awake and breathing open air, legs and arms and life no longer locked beneath the seal of metal and glass...
Is this too much, though? Though having Nagito this close feels kind of nice, Hajime doesn't want this if Nagito doesn't.
He sighs with effort, and lowers the arm that's slung under Nagito's legs, letting Nagito's feet settle down on to the floor of the pod room.]
...Sorry, I didn't...
[He didn't ...what? He didn't mean to start carrying Nagito? Obviously he did - a whole person wouldn't just end up in your arms like that. What is he even trying to say? ...he keeps talking, though he has no idea where he's going with this...]
I-I... We, um, I should--
[Dammit, he'd better find something to say before long, or things are going to get pretty quiet and pretty awkward pretty quickly. Think think think... He grits his teeth, as if that's going to make his brain work any faster.]
You... you haven't eaten anything for months, right? [He knows that, so why did he phrase it like a question?!] And you haven't drunk anything either. ...We should probably get you something first...
[His arm is still around Nagito's back, but he's not sure whether Nagito wants him leave it there or take it away. Just ask, Hajime, it's not like it's a weird question to ask, especially not after you just lifted him up with both arms... ...sheesh, what a stupid idea that was...]
Can you... Do you have the strength to walk on your own, or um, do you need to lean on me...?
[Luckily for Hinata, Komaeda isn't paying attention to that awkward stammering. Instead, his own mind is preoccupied by how close they suddenly are. The warmth of their bodies, the strength of Hinata's arms, the scent of summer sweat—everything is almost... too much. His heart is hammering away within his chest so hard that Hinata's words are drowned out by the sound of his pulse in his ears. He can feel how hot his face is, and this time, it isn't because of tears.
He remembers his own words, echoed in the simulation, spoken almost like a goodbye before they had made it out of Grape house. He wonders if Hinata remembers that awkward confession, or if he really did believe that it had been just about his hope?
Before he realizes it, Komaeda's feet are touching the ground again. As soon as the soles of his shoes connect with the floor, it's like he's suddenly remembered how to breathe again, and Komaeda relaxes somewhat.
He didn't hate it... he was just... surprised, is all.]
Here... [Komaeda keeps his good arm wrapped around those shoulders, and sighs as he hooks his limp hand with Hinata's arm, guiding it to his waist.] Just... support me, okay?
[His face still feels like it's on fire. He's probably redder than a cooked crab, but... he actually doesn't care if Hinata sees.]
You've got a lot of guts, Hajime... I'll give you that. [He chuckles,] who just picks up another dude, bridal style?
[...Hajime's cheeks are turning red, rapidly. Quiet for a moment, he swallows, his pulse flickering in his palms. Nagito is guiding Hajime's arm to his waist, like-- like they're about to dance, together, and it's such a gentle, intimate gesture, one that Hajime's never received before, that it almost makes Hajime glad to have set Nagito back down.]
I-It's not about having a lot of guts or anything... You wanted me to help you up, so I thought... [He lets out a short sigh.] Sorry. I should have realized it might make you feel uncomfortable.
[As he takes heavy, supportive steps toward the door, it comes to Hajime's awareness that his hand is pressing flatly into Nagito's side, rigidly, like Hajime's trying to pushing him off. Which, obviously, he definitely isn't trying to do, and wouldn't even consider doing right now - but if Hajime's hand was any more rigid than this, Nagito might actually think Hajime's trying to push him back.
Picking up Nagito was surprisingly easy enough, but keeping his hand where Nagito's taken it and set it? On Nagito's waist? He almost wants to drop his hand away, because he-- he's worried it won't be long until his hand starts easing into Nagito's side, as it really wants to - and though Hajime knows he'll be able to stop himself from doing anything weird, a part of him really does want to draw his thumb in circles, and small spirals, along Nagito's side.
He wants to, but he won't. He can't. This isn't the time for that. The most he can do right now is support Nagito, keep him steady and from falling, as he leads him to the mess hall for something to eat and drink. It's well past midnight, so the lights should be off and there shouldn't be anyone else there, which is ideal right now.
Hajime walks Nagito through the frame between the pod room and the corridor, and heads in the direction of the hall. Underfoot, the lino makes a squeaking sound every few steps or so, and the light overhead is a huge, white glare on the eyes. Even Hajime's squinting a little.]
Sorry about the lights. I'd turn them out, but they come on automatically and the switch is in the boiler room... I can see, though, and I know where we're going, so, um. If you want to shut your eyes and trust me to lead the way, you-- you can. We should be in the hall pretty soon.
...Uh, but if I'm going too fast, or you want to pause for a moment, just say so and I'll stop, okay?
[Hinata isn't the only one who's hyper-aware of their situation. Even if he had been the one to guide that hand around his waist, Komaeda still hangs his head where the other won't be able to see his flushed face. The way those rigid fingers refuse to curl against his side—he can only begin to imagine how awkward this must be for Hinata. Yet, somehow, he wasn't thinking when he scooped him up?
Komaeda's lips press into a thin line, his confusion over Hinata's words only made worse by the way his heart beats heavily against his ribcage. After being within the pod so long, having his heart race so suddenly is quickly going to his head. He exhales a soft sigh, lolling his head to the side and leaning it against Hinata's shoulder as they walk together.]
I didn't hate it...
[He admits, quietly, almost too quiet. A part of him hopes that the buzzing sterile lights above them will drown out his voice. His head continues to hang, his gaze downcast and watching his own stuttering footsteps as he tries to remember what it feels like to walk with his own, real legs.]
You just caught me off guard, so... don't worry, Hajime. You didn't make me feel uncomfortable.
[It would probably be to much to say he liked it, that would probably freak Hinata out, wouldn't it? After all that time, where his friend—no, classmate—has been waiting for him to wake up, the last thing he probably wants to hear is some gross confession about feeling... protected... but those arms. Even now, with just one of them wrapped around his waist, he feels safe.]
This place, it's my first time seeing it. Did it look the same inside the simulation?
No, even if he heard Nagito correctly, and Nagito didn't hate it, and it didn't make him feel uncomfortable, there's no point going on about it. The moment's passed. Hajime doesn't say anything in response. He's long set Nagito back down, so dropping the topic is, he's pretty sure, the most appropriate thing to do now. It's not like Hajime can just pick him up again.
He's got to let it go. The most he can do is tell himself that the next time he takes Nagito into his arms (assuming there will be a next time - but he's hoping there will be) then it won't be awkward, and it won't be short-lived, and Hajime won't regret doing it, the way he does now.
Nagito's head on his shoulder almost feels pitiful, or sorry, somehow... or maybe Hajime's overthinking it, and Nagito's just exhausted.
If Hajime could provide Nagito a little more support, he would... but Hajime's hold on Nagito's waist, if you can even call it a hold, isn't going to get any softer. He can't let it. Even if Nagito was being honest when he said Hajime didn't make him feel uncomfortable before, well, Hajime still feels like he did, and he's not about to make Nagito feel any worse.
He concentrates on - no, distracts himself with Nagito's words. When Nagito says this place... does Nagito mean this corridor they're moving through now? If so...]
I guess it would be your first time. The corridor we're in now - this entire building, actually - wasn't in the simulation at all, even though it's a part of the real Jabberwock Island. Even though we're out of the simulation, we're still on Jabberwock Island - I mean, technically we've been on Jabberwock Island this entire time, but...
[He needs to slow down. Just because he's finally found something to talk about without feeling awkward, doesn't mean he has to talk so quickly that his words tumble over each other. He clears his throat.]
I guess it's not obvious from this part of the building, but we're on Jabberwock Island right now. The real Jabberwock Island. [Hajime makes a small, conversational smile.] And it's kind of amazing, actually. It's so different to the one we saw in the simulation. ...Well, maybe not that different, but it's definitely not the same place.
[An idea occurs to him, and his smile widens slightly, hopefully, even though Nagito probably can't see it.]
Hey, you know, if you're ever feeling up for it... Once you're feeling a little better, we, um, we could-- I could show you around the island. If you want.
[For as much of a distraction his words are for Hinata, the same can be said for Komaeda. Except it's still a bit hard to concentrate on the conversation when every step they take has him leaning into the other and gripping his shoulder tightly with his good hand. The way they slot together, with Hinata slightly shorter than him, feels almost too nice. Like he doesn't deserve such kindness and yet... Hinata is so eager to be helpful.
Still, with the stammering conversation, Komaeda can't help but smile. He wonders, then, how this guy was supposedly composed enough to rescue them all from the simulation? A guy who gets this flustered... well, there's no point in thinking too much about it now.]
Hah... [Komaeda's shoulders shake with a quiet, airy laugh,] I think I would like that... like my own little tour guide.
[His head lifts, and finally, he glances towards Hinata with a smile spread across his face. Such a worried expression... Komaeda wonders... is it ok to feel happy about it? He adjusts his arm on Hinata's shoulders, curling his lithe fingers into the thin cotton of his shirt as he does.]
[Even though Nagito's fragile state is a concern, it still feels nice to have Nagito's arm resting along Hajime's shoulders. And when Nagito curls his fingers (is he curling his fingers? Is that what the slight movement on Hajime's shoulder means? Without tilting his head, Hajime glances down at his shoulder through the corner of his eye, and yeah, just manages to catch the bony hinges of Nagito's fingers, curled in...) Hajime finds himself wanting to do the same with the fingers of his own hand - the hand that's still definitely not holding Nagito's waist, but could be.
Hajime's fingers tremble slightly - hopefully not so much that Nagito feels them, but... if Nagito can hold Hajime's shirt like that, then surely Hajime can hold on to the fabric of Nagito's blue gown, right? It won't be weird, will it? He's... thinking way too hard about this, isn't he?
But it's hard not to think so hard. It's so hard not to be as aware of things as he is. It's a side-effect of his talent. He notices everything, now, and his brain is constantly analyzing everything he sees... Hajime has managed to relearn how to do normal things like a normal person would, but his talent is still capable of interfering. Like right now - if his mind wasn't analyzing his situation and every sensation excessively, Hajime might not be so nervous just walking Nagito to the mess hall.
It's kind of ironic. The reason he wanted talent, the reason he wanted to be talented, was so he could be more confident in himself, be a more confident person overall. But the talent given to him has just made him more inclined to think too hard, to analyse too deeply, to scrutinize even the smallest actions, things as small as fingers curling into his shoulder...
He sighs, and hopes Nagito doesn't hear it. He doesn't want Nagito to ask - Hajime doesn't know how he'd begin to explain this to him.
...He's going to explain this to him, at some point in the future, but that point isn't in the mess hall that's a few steps away. Though the hall would be a pretty good place for having a private conversation right now, what with its being quiet and empty, it's nearly one in the morning and Nagito has just woken up from a months-long nightmare. They'll have the more serious talk later. For now,]
I'll be glad to. I don't know if I have any favorite spots yet, but...
I guess that's just because I've hardly left the pod room since I woke up from the simulation. I just haven't had the time to go anywhere. [He raises his eyebrows, kind of optimistically.] I have the time now, though, so we can go out, whenever you're ready.
[He walks Nagito into the mess hall, and there are a few reasons he doesn't reach for the light switch on the wall. It's much darker in here than it was in the corridor, but not so dark that Hajime can't see where he's walking. There's enough moonlight in the room to make the basic shapes of the furniture stand out in the darkness.]
[When Hinata says he hasn't left the pod room, Komaeda's smile falters a bit. Hasn't it been months? And that whole time... how many hours, how many days, were spent by his unmoving side? Komaeda feels his chest tighten as unease twists his stomach into knots.
This whole time, while he's been uselessly stuck inside that dream, Hinata has been wasting his life. It feels like a hot knife has been stabbed into his back, and guilt is rising up around him like a black muck that threatens to suck him down into that horrible pit of despair.
He's not worthy of such dedication. Hinata says it's fine, says it's ok that he did what he did, but Komaeda knows better. He knows that it's only a matter of time until Hinata will hate him, or worse, his luck will affect him.
Komaeda doesn't realize the way his grip has tightened on Hinata's shoulder, not until they're within the mess hall. He doesn't mention the lights either, he just lets Hinata lead him to an open chair, before he slides down into it. Even just a centimeter apart, Komaeda misses the feeling of support, of care—but it's also a relief. He leans his head back, exhaling a quiet sigh.]
Yeah, I still like toast...
[He responds, before finding the strength to pull his head back up again. He watches Hinata's back, quiet, contemplating. The question itches at the back of his mind, incessant, and normally he would ignore it. Or justify it himself. But right now, it's just too much.]
Hey... why didn't you just enjoy your freedom? You didn't have to sit with me all the time, you know... That must've been boring.
Hajime's expression flattens. It's not sadness, and it's not disappointment, and it's definitely not despair... though it's not very hopeful, either. If at all.
With his back to Nagito, Hajime moves slowly to the kitchen counter not too far from the table Nagito's sitting at. Hajime gets a plate, a glass, sets them on the countertop. The light of the refrigerator is cold on his face when he takes out the carton of milk.
Boring, huh...
It's another side-effect of the talent given to him. No, a consequence, and it can't be escaped. He can negotiate with the boredom, but he can't remove himself from it as he would a shirt, or a tie... Boredom follows him everywhere in the way his skin does. In the past, it's led him to do-- to do things he-- things he feels sick thinking about - and he does feel sick when he thinks about those things. He can feel sick, now that he's reminded himself how to feel all that Izuru Kamukura couldn't.
He takes a slice of bread from the breadbox. Slotting it into the toaster, he pushes down on the lever, and the slice is locked into place.
Hajime wants it to be his turn to say he didn't hate it, but he... he can't lie to himself. Or to Nagito. Boring doesn't begin to describe it. He can't even begin to put into words how bored out of his mind he was over the past few months. For so long, his efforts to wake Nagito up were, god, so persistently fruitless...
If he was still Izuru Kamukura, he would have given up on (abandoned) the task of waking up (reawakening) his friend (just another lucky student, one of so many, so boring)... but he's not that person any more.]
It... [He's not going to lie and say it wasn't boring, but he's not going to agree with Nagito, either.] ...It was a lot of work. [Yeah, that's probably the best way to put it for now.] I mean, it wasn't like I was just sitting next to your pod. Most of the time I spent in the pod room, I spent actively trying to wake you up.
[There's a ka-ching behind him all of a sudden, and he turns with the plate in hand to take the bread from the toaster. Setting the slice on the plate, he returns to the countertop, to pour the milk into the glass. The carton goes back into the fridge. Then Hajime takes the plate of toast and the glass of milk over to where Nagito's sitting. After setting both down on the table, Hajime steps around and sits in the chair opposite Nagito.
He's not comfortable, though. Though that blank expression of his is settling, it's settling into a frown. What Nagito said about just enjoying his freedom...]
Nagito, you were in a coma. Even if... it was difficult, and exhausting, and sometimes even thankless, spending every day in the pod room, trying to wake you up, I... not even once did I want to just give up and leave you. I... haha, come on... I can't believe you'd...
As Hinata keeps his back turned, all Komaeda can do is watch the way his body moves in the veiled darkness of the mess hall. His shoulders, his back, his head of wild, short-cropped hair—Komaeda merely watches him as if he is the figment of a lucid dream, like he isn't the same person he knew from the simulation. He knows that's wrong, that somewhere in there, Hajime Hinata lives; but he would be a fool to, at the same time, not remember that within him also lies Izuru Kamukura. Beneath the table, Komaeda's good hand grips his gloved shame.
Silence parses between them, drowning out the sound of the crashing ocean waves which seem so much more distant that right outside of Hotel Mirai. The toaster pops up with a heavy click, breaking that silence in a way that causes Komaeda to jolt. But he keeps staring, unblinking, at the silhouette of Hinata. Just how much of him is Hajime, and how much is Izuru?
His gaze lowers as the plate of toast and glass of milk that are set before him, and with an odd weightlessness, he remembers the last time Hinata had brought him food. Wasn't it when he was tied up, in the simulation? Had they really had any meals together alone?]
You know, Hajime... [Komaeda starts as he reaches for the piece of toast. He's not even that hungry, now that he thinks about it.] ...You're a really stubborn guy. I don't know anyone more stubborn than you are. Only you would try to wake up someone who wanted you dead not too long ago — but I guess for you that was a really long time ago, huh?
[His fingertips break off a corner of the bread, and rather than raising his gaze, he watches the way his meal crumbles beneath his touch.]
If it weren't for your stubbornness, I would suspect that I'm actually talking to Kamukura Izuru, you know?
[Komaeda leans his elbow on the table and brings that small piece of toast to his mouth as he does, along with the slow rise of his eyes. Even in the darkness that shrouds them, he can see those mismatched eyes perfectly clear. Like they cut through everything, even the flesh of his body, straight to his soul.]
What a roundabout way of saying you care about someone. Why did you phrase it like that? You don't have to lie to me if you just feel responsible. I won't hate you for being honest.
[If Nagito's trying to make eye contact, he won't be able to. Hajime's staring at Nagito's fingers, at the corner of toast pinched loosely between them. Nagito's picking at his food. Either he's not hungry at all, or there's something on his mind that's bothering him. Or maybe it's both.
What happened on the fifth island was a long time ago for Hajime, yeah, but it would feel pretty recent to Nagito. ...How recent, though? Had Nagito felt the passing of the months that followed at all? In Nagito's mind, how long ago was it that he died?
Hajime sighs. He thinks he could be more understanding.]
...No, it's... I get it. I've had months to get over it, but you... must probably feel like it just happened. [And Nagito might feel this way for a while to come. Hajime will have to be ready for that.] I guess it only makes sense that it's still something you're thinking a lot about.
[Maybe it's just selfish of Hajime to insist that it doesn't matter anymore, when in fact it still matters a lot to Nagito. And as long as it does matter to him, then how Hajime feels about it is... yeah, it's just irrelevant. If Nagito moves on from this, it'll be whenever he's ready to. Not when Hajime wants him to.
But... This burst of stubbornness, it's not the only difference between him and Izuru Kamukura, is it? No, surely not... Even now, does Hajime still come across as being cold and insensitive -- to the same degree that Kamukura was...? No, he-- he's not like that anymore, is he? He doesn't want to be that way. He's not Kamukura. He wants to tell Nagito that he's not Kamukura, but that won't mean anything, will it, if Kamukura is nearly all that Nagito sees when he sees Hajime now. God, it-- That hurts, and not just Hajime's feelings. It's more than that.
Hajime's chest is heavy.]
I'm not lying to you, Nagito. And I'm not afraid to be honest with you, either. [Though there are definitely a few things Hajime is-- no, not exactly afraid, but definitely nervous, to just come out and honestly say. Admit, even. But...] You're reading into it too deeply, though. I was just trying to say that I... [god, why can't he just say it? Why does his voice have to catch like this? Why have to pause now, of all times?] ...I care. That's all. You're right, though, I could have phrased it a little more clearly. Sorry.
[More so than something intended to eat, those crumbs roll between Komaeda's fingers as he watches Hinata's face scrunch up with thought. The way his brows furrow, the way he stumbles around his words, trying to figure things out. He's always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, and that's more apparent now than ever.
In a way, he's mad about it—because if Hinata was more like Kamukura, if he was insensitive, apathetic, uncaring about Komaeda as a person—then this would be so much easier. Komaeda could hate him, or perhaps it would be like before the simulation, where he was fascinated by the hope that resided with him. Either way, it would be easier than feeling his chest tighten and his lungs going breathless just seeing how knotted up Hinata got when put on the spot.
There's probably something cruel in the way Komaeda enjoys seeing it, too. Because if Hinata is this worried about him, doesn't that mean he can trust him? That those words passed between them in the simulation, as distant as they were, were all true?]
Yeah, it feels recent. [He finally answers, as he dusts his fingers to get the crumbs stuck to them off. He picks up the toast proper then, and brings it to his mouth. The silence breaks with a thick crunch, and he chews his bite slowly. Once swallowed, he continues.]
When I found out about us all being Ultimate Despair, I could only focus on ridding the world of us through death.
[He pauses, and lowers his slice of toast back to the plate. His gaze hasn't left Hinata's and as it lids, the rest of his expression follows suit, softening into something forlorn... or perhaps... fond?]
Did you mourn me, when you found my body? I wonder what the Hinata back then, before realizing he was Kamukura Izuru, thought of my brilliant mystery.
[Did it make him sad? Did it make him happy? To finally be rid of the thorn in his side that was Komaeda Nagito... did he smile in the face of that death? Komaeda almost doesn't want to know the answer, but the pain of not knowing... is probably worse.]
[Taking in a deep, silent breath, Hajime reaches inside himself for what he remembers from that time. Will the way he felt back then return to him along with those memories? Hajime shuts his eyes and focuses, drawing on his memories as a method actor would.]
...If you want me to be honest, Nagito, then I'll tell you that mostly, I was angry. I was angry when we found your body, and I was angry because of the mystery you set up for us.
[He's not about to call it brilliant. Maybe to Nagito it was, but to Hajime and the others, it was just-- twisted, and frustrating, and awful.]
I was... so angry, Nagito. You know, even though you were being cold and distant with us at the time, even though you set the hotel on fire, even though you were against all of us and didn't trust any of us... even so, none of us wanted to see you like-- like that. Like how you ended up.
[A pause, and nothing crunches into the silence. Nagito's toast is on his plate.
Though what Nagito's talking about is so morbid, he's gazing at Hajime through an expression that Hajime can only describe as wilted. It's either the result of having been asleep in that pod for so many months, or it's because Nagito's still affected by what happened on the fifth island. ...Hajime hates that he thought about it in that order, but his brain still prioritizes cold logic and reasoning over emotional cues. His emotional intelligence is still compromised, nowhere near what it used to be.
It wasn't just Hajime's capacity for emotion that had been taken from him during that 'life-changing' operation. It was also his capacity to understand emotion in others, to even think in emotional terms at all. As Izuru Kamukura, he didn't process any emotions at all. Not his own, if he even had any, and definitely not anyone else's.
...Speaking of Izuru Kamukura, Nagito is. It's the second time Nagito's said that name tonight. He's really pushing some kind of point, isn't he... it's like he wants to make Kamukura the topic of discussion. Is that it? Maybe that's why he keeps bringing up the name. Does he want Hajime to say something about it?
Thinking about it now, will there even be another chance to have this talk, after tonight?
Tomorrow morning (or more accurately, in a few hours from now) Nagito will be wheeled in to the rehabilitation program set up by the Future Foundation - he'll be given things to do, appointments to make, a room of his own to stay in, and then there'll be all the operations he might have to have, all the work that'll probably be done on his arm. If he gets a spare moment over the next few weeks, he'll probably want to spend it by himself.
Meanwhile, Hajime will be expected to get on with his other tasks, his other obligations, he'll have a whole world to share his talent with now. Now that Nagito's awake, Hajime will have to get on with doing the other things he's been neglecting, the things expected of him as the Ultimate Hope.
It's still weird, referring to himself by that title, but it's not a weird he can't tolerate. It doesn't do to his stomach or his throat - or his head - what the name Izuru Kamukura does.]
...And, you know, learning that I was Izuru Kamukura hasn't changed anything. I mean, when I think about it now, when I really focus my thoughts on everything that happened on the fifth island, I still feel some of that anger.
[Bitterness seizes Hajime's face, and his eye contact with Nagito falls away like it's been cut in two.]
If I was still Izuru Kamukura, though, I wouldn't feel anything. If I was Kamukura, I wouldn't even be able to remember what it was like to feel anything. My memory of past events would still be clear, but recalling those memories, I wouldn't have any emotional response. I- I wouldn't even remember having felt anything at the time...
Even now, I'm still struggling to process emotions properly. In myself and in others. I'm getting a lot better with getting myself to feel things like a normal person would, but... when it comes to other people... there's still a slight delay, as if it's a language, and I'm not that fluent in it anymore.
[But a delayed reaction is still better than none at all, right?] But I'm not that different from the Hajime Hinata you knew in the simulation. In fact, I-I'm more like that Hajime Hinata now, than I am Izuru Kamukura.
I don't want you to think of me any differently at all, Nagito. I'm still Hajime Hinata. I'm still that person you met on that island.
[In the space between Hinata's words and Komaeda, his long fingers continue to play with the toast in front of him more than he thinks to eat it. As if wearing it down to mere crumbs on the plate is the only thing tethering down the restless emotion that swells beneath the surface of his skin. Even like this, fresh from the simulation, sat alone in the dark with the one person who's meant more to him than anyone else, Komaeda's expression remains an unreadable mask.
So Hinata was angry, not sad, or lonely, or filled with hope... but anger. A bright, hot, righteous anger that lead him to victory. A chill runs down Komaeda's spine, and thoughtlessly, he rips off the piece of bread he had caught between his fingers.]
You really are... truly amazing...
[He exhales the words in a breathy laugh, and finally his expression cracks with a sharp smile. The bread between his fingers it released, bouncing off the plate and onto the table with a trail of crumbs.
Instead, Komaeda lifts his hands upwards, and rolls his shoulders in an easy shrug.]
I guess all I have to do is accept this defeat. You know, I really underestimated the Reserve Course.
[But that's not it, is it. Even in the simulation, Hinata had Kamukura's talents. They weren't locked away forever, merely hibernating. He wonders for a moment just how much of it had been used without Hinata even realizing it? Komaeda doesn't ask though, such a thought, well... it would probably just make Hinata mad to think about it.]
The Hajime from the island though... are you really? Which Hajime is the real Hajime? The one before Kamukura Izuru... the one in the simulation... the one sitting in front of me... You can understand why I'm apprehensive, can't you?
[If it hadn't been for Hinata, would Kamukura even exist? Would the tragedy have happened? Would the simulation have happened? Him... and every one of his classmates... would they have died like the rest of the students at Hope's Peak? Or would they simply have been spared from becoming Ultimate Despair?]
If you're really the same guy I met on the island, then you should know my feelings well, right?
[It's not a compliment, it's a reaction. There is still so much of Nagito that Hajime doesn't understand, but he does at least know that when Nagito calls him amazing, it shouldn't mean anything to him.]
You shouldn't even have to ask something like which Hajime is the real one. The real Hajime Hinata is the one who still exists. The one who still has a future. The one who's working toward that future, while shouldering his past.
The Hajime Hinata who attended Hope's Peak Academy stopped existing the moment he signed that contract, and Kamukura ended along with the Neo World Program. But the Hajime Hinata you met on the island, he-- I, I made it out.
And those memories I made on the island, I brought them with me. I didn't leave any part of myself behind.
[The way Nagito slowly eats his toast and intermittently doesn't would be a little distracting, except that there's something else Hajime's too focused on right now to even take notice right now.]
So... yeah, I still remember your feelings. As if I could even forget something like that...
[I'm in love with... It almost sounded like a confession.
...Well, it was a kind of confession, wasn't it? Just not the one Hajime thought he'd been about to hear.]
But what are you trying to say by bringing that up now?
The hope sleeping inside me? When you said that to me, you already knew I was Kamukura, didn't you.
[Turning his head to the side, Hajime grits his teeth.]
And not only that, you knew what Kamukura had done, you knew better than anyone about the despair Kamukura was a part of... and you knew it so well that you... [he squeezes his eyes shut, and makes loose fists of his hands under the table] ...wanted me dead because of it.
[A pause, and then Hajime sighs, and his face pulls slowly into a frown of confusion.]
But it doesn't make sense. If you really thought there was hope inside me, and if you were really... in love... with that hope, then why did you try to do what you did? I...
Maybe I don't know your feelings that well. Whatever you were trying to say to me that day, I still don't understand it.
Hm... whether I knew about your status as Kamukura or not... what does it matter? Do you think my feelings would be different based on that knowledge?
[Komaeda's attention drops away, to the glass of milk that's sat untouched for the entirety of their conversation. Condensation beads against its surface, and for a moment, he watches the path that one of those dewdrops makes as it slides down towards the table.
He smiles, and for a moment it looks as if he's simply smiling for that little dewdrop before he grabs the glass and brings it to his lips. He takes a few, indulgent gulps of it before settling the base back down.]
You know, Hajime... my love for hope... it's a very selfless love. I don't want anything in return for it, I only want to serve that love and ensure a bright future. So anyone who strives for that hope is someone I love.
[His tongue darts across his lips, licking up the milk that remains on them before his gaze meets Hinata's once more. His eyes, even in the dim lighting of the room, are clear and vibrant.]
But once I knew that we were all Ultimate Despairs, I had a duty to hope to do what was right: to ensure that bright future. Perhaps that's why I failed though... my view is too narrow, I'm not the sort of guy that is able to see what isn't right in front of me.
[His smile spreads a little wider, a little more fond. What good would it do, he wonders, to tell Hinata that his love this time is a little more selfish...?]
But I'm glad that my death wasn't for nothing... it was yet another stepping stone for your hope. How could I not be happy about it?
W-Well, yeah, I think they would be... If you knew I was a member of Ultimate Despair, and still told me you loved my hope [his brow creases as he says it - that's never not going to sound awkward] then... I'd think you were making a joke or something. You wouldn't mean something like that sincerely if you knew I was really Kamukura. That's just not like you.
[...Is it possible Nagito didn't know?]
Anyway...
[He's looking for eye contact, but Nagito's casting a relaxed gaze at his glass of milk. A moment later, he's raising it to his smile, and the volume tilts and lowers as he takes heavy gulps down. There... shouldn't be anything weird about watching him drink, but even so, it embarrasses Hajime enough that he has to look away.
As soon as Hajime hears the setting down of glass on the tabletop, though, he glances back. Nagito's words glint in the darkness that Hajime's eyes have already adjusted to, and it's everything Hajime has heard him say before, until he gets to the last part.
...No, it's just Nagito being Nagito. When he says something like that, he's doesn't mean it in the way Hajime would hope he does.
It's dark enough that Hajime can just see the wet flick of Nagito's tongue along his lips... which is good, because if it were any brighter, Nagito would probably be able to see the color that's spilling across Hajime's face.
Nagito can't see what isn't right in front of him, huh...
Hajime's about to smile at the thought, but what Nagito goes on to say keeps the smile down, and instead brings out a sigh of exhaustion.]
I don't want to think about it like that, Nagito. [Hajime doesn't even want to talk about it anymore.] Even if you're happy now... even if I've gotten over it... you know, it still hurt a lot when you died.
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[So Nagito remembers, huh... When some of the others woke up, it was with only a few patchy memories of what had happened in the Neo World Program. There were even one or two who completely forgot they had died in the simulation by the time they were out of it... A pretty vocal part of Hajime had been hoping that Nagito would wake up with no memory of what he'd done on the fifth island, but Nagito remembers, and Hajime will have to work with that.
But he can. He's going to.]
I wasn't going to leave you. You know, I-- I wouldn't do something like that.
[Hajime's been saying this a lot recently. Some of the others, watching Hajime struggle to wake Nagito these past few weeks, had been convinced that Nagito just wasn't going to wake up at all, no matter what Hajime tried doing. Some had even begun encouraging Hajime to just let him be, to just give up. But Hajime wasn't going to do something like that. He wouldn't. He'd gotten all the others out of the sim. If he could do that for them, he would do it for Nagito, as well.
And, besides...
No, he can think about that later. Maybe even talk about it with Nagito, once Nagito's awake enough to really talk.
As it is, Nagito's heavily overslept, and... scarily light everywhere else, Hajime realizes, as he slings his other arm around Nagito's waist and gradually lifts him up. Nagito had been getting his nutrients through a tube since he first went into the pod, and he'd been in the pod a lot longer than anyone else was, but still, Hajime didn't expect him to be this skinny. It makes sense, but even so, it's confronting.
As Hajime helps Nagito out of the pod, all the tubes and wires that were connected to him are shedded from his body, all having been disconnected when the pod was shut off and opened. The headband is still around Nagito's head, but that'll come off easily, once Nagito's ready for the feeling of fingers on his forehead, behind his ears, at the nape of his neck, on his face. It'll be more sensation than he's had in a long time - it might be too much all at once, if Hajime isn't careful with his timing.
Hajime rises slowly, unfolding his legs from underneath himself, encouraging Nagito's to do the same. He pauses when he reaches his full height, to catch his breath, to let Nagito find his.
He can't begin to explain why he's so glad to see Nagito right now. He will, once Nagito is ready to hear it. But for now, Hajime keeps silent, and lets Nagito focus on reorienting himself to the real world.]
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Haah... you're a fool, Hajime. [Komaeda huffs, even if his expression looks more pained than it does angry. How is it that even now, he can't even summon the courage to be angry? After he died in the simulation, after he was forced to live in that false world where he wished for talent to disappear, even after Hajime rescued him via World Destroyer... he couldn't be angry.]
Of course you wouldn't give up on trash like me, you're just that sort of guy. A stupid Reserve Course student who sticks his nose where it doesn't belong...
[His brow furrows, but he bows his head forward, ready for those hands to unhook him from the headband that's still attached to him. His left hand or rather, the left hand attached to him, is hugged to his middle like a shameful item being kept away from Hinata. But amidst the swirling despair of all the evil he has perpetuated, the murder game in the simulation, and his pitiful dream—Komaeda can still feel the flicker of hope that resides within him.
Suddenly, his face feels hot. It feels like it's on fire, and he can feel the sting of tears in his eyes. His shoulders tense, up towards his ears, as beads roll down his cheeks.]
Why didn't you just give up on me...!
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Whatever he and Nagito did become during their time in the simulation, Hajime can only hope it'll translate well into the real world. Maybe it'll even strengthen from here on? If he and Nagito can get even closer from here onward, then... Hajime's chest surges at the thought.
--Or maybe it's-- seizing?
Because when he glances at Nagito, he sees that-- that Nagito is--
Okay, this is not good. This is seriously not... Thinking that Nagito's just overwhelmed by the light and sound (in the way Mahiru and Mikan were - they also came out of their pods in tears), Hajime half-walks, half-carries him to one of the chairs beside the monitors. It's a swivel chair on wheels, so it rolls and turns a little as he eases Nagito into it. Not wanting Nagito to be any more over-stimulated than he already is, Hajime grips the armrest of the chair, keeping it as still as he can.
The blue light of the monitor gleams along the side of Nagito's face, along the wet line left by the first few tears. Not looking away from Nagito, Hajime's reaching across the desktop for the box of tissues someone silently left him a few days ago.
But there's nothing sticking out of the box that he can grab, and putting a hand through the plastic opening, his fingers touch only cardboard. Surprised, he glances at the tissue box. When did the tissues run out...? He glances back at Nagito.]
Sorry, I don't have... [He trails off. What did Nagito just say?] Hey. Nagito. Don't... don't talk like that. As if I-- as if we'd just leave you behind. You're-- [Hajime creases his brow. He can handle hearing Nagito pick on himself, but this, he's not going to tolerate, or even listen to.] You're not worth anything less than anyone else is, all right? So there's no way we'd ever just give up on you. That's-- I, I can't believe you'd even think that...!
[But it's like Nagito wanted them to give up on him. The tears won't stop. ...For a moment, and not for the first time, Hajime regrets that he and Nagito aren't closer - because if they were, the lack of tissues wouldn't be a problem. Hajime could just take his hands to the sides of Nagito's face, and smooth the tears away himself.
But they're not so close that Hajime can do that. So Hajime keeps one hand on the armrest of the chair, and the other on the edge of the desk.]
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Despite not knowing what happened after he died in the simulation, they made it out, and he knows that only Hinata would be able to pull it off. Or was it Kamukura? Was Kamukura still inside of Hinata, even now? He raises his tearful gaze to meet the one that stares down at him with worry creasing its brow. Komaeda notices only then that Hinata's eyes are mismatched.]
What's with that...? [The words are a soft huff of mocking laughter, and despite the tears that still roll down his cheeks and cling to his long lashes, Komaeda forces a weak smile across his face.] Getting so worked up over the guy who tried to kill you... you really are an idiot, Hajime.
[Still, his good hand curls into the fabric of Hinata's shirt with a grip that refuses to let go. This warmth, this attention. Is it okay to be selfish? Is it okay to use it to fight that despair that's toiling away within him? It's with that grip that Komaeda pulls himself forward and smears his face across Hinata's shoulder, wiping his tears off with the thin cotton.]
Stop making that face, Hajime... If you don't I...
[He'll what? Get the wrong idea? He closes his eyes, the words, just barely on the tip of his tongue... Komaeda swallows them down, and pats his hand against that firm, supportive shoulder.]
...Everyone's going to make fun of you, Mr. Reserve Course.
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[He's cut off. His words, his thoughts, it's all cut off and shut up when his shirt is grabbed and tugged at-- Nagito's hand is right there and pulling on the fabric, pulling it toward him, or pulling himself toward it--? Nagito's hold is so close to the left of Hajime's chest that Hajime almost thinks it's like-- and then Nagito's face is right there, on Hajime's shoulder. Against it, nose pressing in.
Is Nagito using his sleeve as a-- yeah, he is. Smudged across the fabric, Nagito's tears seep damply through, and Hajime feels them like warm fingertips on the skin of his shoulder.
He swallows. He has no idea what to say. What face does Nagito think he's making? He... he doesn't even care.]
Does it matter if they do? I don't have to listen to them if I don't want to.
[If Nagito's making a joke, Hajime's completely missing it. Even with his head full of talent, Hajime's still not great at catching social cues. But he's not even in the mood for jokes right now - he wants Nagito to take him seriously when he says:]
...Anyway, I don't think they'd do something like that, not when they know how much time I spent trying to wake you up.
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Komaeda lifts his head, gazing past Hinata's shoulder and towards the far wall. This room is lined with all kind of unrecognizable things. Wires and tubes and pods, all emptied, with his own being the most recent edition. This chair that he sits in, was it brought in for Hinata? Those tissues, too.
How long had he been waiting? Hoping? He said months, right?]
That's why Sleeping Beauty was woken up with a kiss, you know.
[It's a tasteless joke, one that only earns a short huff of laughter from Komaeda as he says it, but then he pushes himself off of Hinata's shoulder. His gaze is lowered, no, averted. He can't really meet those hopeful eyes, can he? What does Hinata want from him, expect from him? He believes in a Komaeda of the past, probably.]
Anyways... I'm sure everyone else disagreed with waking me up, and now you're asking me to face them again... you really like putting people in difficult situations, don't you?
[He pauses, waiting out the silence for a few seconds.]
Well? Are you going to help me back up? Take responsibility... since you wanted me back so badly.
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His thoughts are just as quiet - he isn't about to tell Nagito that he's right, that the others were encouraging Hajime to give up on Nagito for a while there. But--]
Since when did I ask you to face them again?
[Frowning, Hajime brings his hands around the back of Nagito's head, feeling through the thin - feathery? soft? ...no, this is not the time, so just thin for now - strands of hair.
Fingers locating the clasp at the center back of the headband, Hajime unfastens it with a soundless click, and the headband comes apart in a ribbon of metallic strips. Hajime sets it, undone, on the table, making a mental note to put it away later.]
I'm not about to make you do something you don't want to do. The others can wait, if you want them to.
[Putting Nagito in an uncomfortable situation is the last thing he wants to do-- no. He doesn't even want to do it.
And it probably would be uncomfortable. Nagito's right. As much as Hajime would like to say that everyone would be glad to see Nagito again, he's not about to lie to him.
He's not about to lie to him, which means he's not going to refute that last thing, either. Wanted him back so badly, huh...? Hajime smiles - a little ruefully, because even though Nagito's right, and Hajime did want him back, he didn't expect Nagito to turn it into a taunt.
...He's not sure exactly what Nagito has in mind, but if Nagito really wants him to take responsibility...
He comes around Nagito's right hand side, and encourages Nagito's hand and arm back on to his shoulders. Instead of guiding Nagito to his feet, though, Hajime scoops his other arm under the bend in Nagito's legs and tries lifting him out of the chair. It's a little embarrassing - for Nagito - but if Nagito's going to tease Hajime like that, it's-- it's not undeserved.]
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You say that, but everyone will avoid me anyways.
[This time, he doesn't laugh. There's something lonely about the words, or maybe it's bitterness. With the new, uneasy combination of all his memories, there's a part of him that knows better now; but there's still that part shrouded in the dark, the part that wishes he had succeeded—or at the very least, stayed in a coma. Perhaps everyone else has ways of life they can return to, but not him.
No, right now, this is probably the unluckiest situation ever.
Komaeda doesn't have much time to wallow in that self-pity, though. Rather, before he even realizes it, Hinata's putting his arm around his shoulders again; but before Komaeda can try to hoist himself up with that anchor, Hinata scoops him up into his arms. A sharp yelp of surprise escapes him, his eyes suddenly blown wide as his pallid face darkens with his embarrassment.]
W-Wait, Hajime! [He smacks his limp left hand against the other boy's chest in protest,] p-put me down, what if someone sees? I'm not an old man, you know!
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[He doesn't mean to tighten his grip on Nagito's legs and torso, but he can't help it, he's so tense. And not just because he's has to keep his back and arms upright, or his chest braced against each smack of the hand.]
I'm not-- You're the one who said you wanted me to--!
[It really doesn't matter to Hajime if someone sees, though - by this point, it's probably no secret to them how he... um, how he feels about Nagito. In fact, he'd be surprised if they didn't know... He's never said anything, but the effort he'd been putting into trying to wake Nagito up, the way he'd stayed up late in the pod room on most nights, skipped social gatherings and parties just to spend more time working on safely disconnecting Nagito from the Neo World Program... all of that should have made it obvious. Makoto and Byakuya had even seen him get overwhelmed by frustration and cry more than once...
After all that, he thinks he might actually want the others to see him like this, with Nagito in his arms, Nagito, finally awake and breathing open air, legs and arms and life no longer locked beneath the seal of metal and glass...
Is this too much, though? Though having Nagito this close feels kind of nice, Hajime doesn't want this if Nagito doesn't.
He sighs with effort, and lowers the arm that's slung under Nagito's legs, letting Nagito's feet settle down on to the floor of the pod room.]
...Sorry, I didn't...
[He didn't ...what? He didn't mean to start carrying Nagito? Obviously he did - a whole person wouldn't just end up in your arms like that. What is he even trying to say? ...he keeps talking, though he has no idea where he's going with this...]
I-I... We, um, I should--
[Dammit, he'd better find something to say before long, or things are going to get pretty quiet and pretty awkward pretty quickly. Think think think... He grits his teeth, as if that's going to make his brain work any faster.]
You... you haven't eaten anything for months, right? [He knows that, so why did he phrase it like a question?!] And you haven't drunk anything either. ...We should probably get you something first...
[His arm is still around Nagito's back, but he's not sure whether Nagito wants him leave it there or take it away. Just ask, Hajime, it's not like it's a weird question to ask, especially not after you just lifted him up with both arms... ...sheesh, what a stupid idea that was...]
Can you... Do you have the strength to walk on your own, or um, do you need to lean on me...?
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He remembers his own words, echoed in the simulation, spoken almost like a goodbye before they had made it out of Grape house. He wonders if Hinata remembers that awkward confession, or if he really did believe that it had been just about his hope?
Before he realizes it, Komaeda's feet are touching the ground again. As soon as the soles of his shoes connect with the floor, it's like he's suddenly remembered how to breathe again, and Komaeda relaxes somewhat.
He didn't hate it... he was just... surprised, is all.]
Here... [Komaeda keeps his good arm wrapped around those shoulders, and sighs as he hooks his limp hand with Hinata's arm, guiding it to his waist.] Just... support me, okay?
[His face still feels like it's on fire. He's probably redder than a cooked crab, but... he actually doesn't care if Hinata sees.]
You've got a lot of guts, Hajime... I'll give you that. [He chuckles,] who just picks up another dude, bridal style?
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[...Hajime's cheeks are turning red, rapidly. Quiet for a moment, he swallows, his pulse flickering in his palms. Nagito is guiding Hajime's arm to his waist, like-- like they're about to dance, together, and it's such a gentle, intimate gesture, one that Hajime's never received before, that it almost makes Hajime glad to have set Nagito back down.]
I-It's not about having a lot of guts or anything... You wanted me to help you up, so I thought... [He lets out a short sigh.] Sorry. I should have realized it might make you feel uncomfortable.
[As he takes heavy, supportive steps toward the door, it comes to Hajime's awareness that his hand is pressing flatly into Nagito's side, rigidly, like Hajime's trying to pushing him off. Which, obviously, he definitely isn't trying to do, and wouldn't even consider doing right now - but if Hajime's hand was any more rigid than this, Nagito might actually think Hajime's trying to push him back.
Picking up Nagito was surprisingly easy enough, but keeping his hand where Nagito's taken it and set it? On Nagito's waist? He almost wants to drop his hand away, because he-- he's worried it won't be long until his hand starts easing into Nagito's side, as it really wants to - and though Hajime knows he'll be able to stop himself from doing anything weird, a part of him really does want to draw his thumb in circles, and small spirals, along Nagito's side.
He wants to, but he won't. He can't. This isn't the time for that. The most he can do right now is support Nagito, keep him steady and from falling, as he leads him to the mess hall for something to eat and drink. It's well past midnight, so the lights should be off and there shouldn't be anyone else there, which is ideal right now.
Hajime walks Nagito through the frame between the pod room and the corridor, and heads in the direction of the hall. Underfoot, the lino makes a squeaking sound every few steps or so, and the light overhead is a huge, white glare on the eyes. Even Hajime's squinting a little.]
Sorry about the lights. I'd turn them out, but they come on automatically and the switch is in the boiler room... I can see, though, and I know where we're going, so, um. If you want to shut your eyes and trust me to lead the way, you-- you can. We should be in the hall pretty soon.
...Uh, but if I'm going too fast, or you want to pause for a moment, just say so and I'll stop, okay?
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Komaeda's lips press into a thin line, his confusion over Hinata's words only made worse by the way his heart beats heavily against his ribcage. After being within the pod so long, having his heart race so suddenly is quickly going to his head. He exhales a soft sigh, lolling his head to the side and leaning it against Hinata's shoulder as they walk together.]
I didn't hate it...
[He admits, quietly, almost too quiet. A part of him hopes that the buzzing sterile lights above them will drown out his voice. His head continues to hang, his gaze downcast and watching his own stuttering footsteps as he tries to remember what it feels like to walk with his own, real legs.]
You just caught me off guard, so... don't worry, Hajime. You didn't make me feel uncomfortable.
[It would probably be to much to say he liked it, that would probably freak Hinata out, wouldn't it? After all that time, where his friend—no, classmate—has been waiting for him to wake up, the last thing he probably wants to hear is some gross confession about feeling... protected... but those arms. Even now, with just one of them wrapped around his waist, he feels safe.]
This place, it's my first time seeing it. Did it look the same inside the simulation?
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No, even if he heard Nagito correctly, and Nagito didn't hate it, and it didn't make him feel uncomfortable, there's no point going on about it. The moment's passed. Hajime doesn't say anything in response. He's long set Nagito back down, so dropping the topic is, he's pretty sure, the most appropriate thing to do now. It's not like Hajime can just pick him up again.
He's got to let it go. The most he can do is tell himself that the next time he takes Nagito into his arms (assuming there will be a next time - but he's hoping there will be) then it won't be awkward, and it won't be short-lived, and Hajime won't regret doing it, the way he does now.
Nagito's head on his shoulder almost feels pitiful, or sorry, somehow... or maybe Hajime's overthinking it, and Nagito's just exhausted.
If Hajime could provide Nagito a little more support, he would... but Hajime's hold on Nagito's waist, if you can even call it a hold, isn't going to get any softer. He can't let it. Even if Nagito was being honest when he said Hajime didn't make him feel uncomfortable before, well, Hajime still feels like he did, and he's not about to make Nagito feel any worse.
He concentrates on - no, distracts himself with Nagito's words. When Nagito says this place... does Nagito mean this corridor they're moving through now? If so...]
I guess it would be your first time. The corridor we're in now - this entire building, actually - wasn't in the simulation at all, even though it's a part of the real Jabberwock Island. Even though we're out of the simulation, we're still on Jabberwock Island - I mean, technically we've been on Jabberwock Island this entire time, but...
[He needs to slow down. Just because he's finally found something to talk about without feeling awkward, doesn't mean he has to talk so quickly that his words tumble over each other. He clears his throat.]
I guess it's not obvious from this part of the building, but we're on Jabberwock Island right now. The real Jabberwock Island. [Hajime makes a small, conversational smile.] And it's kind of amazing, actually. It's so different to the one we saw in the simulation. ...Well, maybe not that different, but it's definitely not the same place.
[An idea occurs to him, and his smile widens slightly, hopefully, even though Nagito probably can't see it.]
Hey, you know, if you're ever feeling up for it... Once you're feeling a little better, we, um, we could-- I could show you around the island. If you want.
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Still, with the stammering conversation, Komaeda can't help but smile. He wonders, then, how this guy was supposedly composed enough to rescue them all from the simulation? A guy who gets this flustered... well, there's no point in thinking too much about it now.]
Hah... [Komaeda's shoulders shake with a quiet, airy laugh,] I think I would like that... like my own little tour guide.
[His head lifts, and finally, he glances towards Hinata with a smile spread across his face. Such a worried expression... Komaeda wonders... is it ok to feel happy about it? He adjusts his arm on Hinata's shoulders, curling his lithe fingers into the thin cotton of his shirt as he does.]
Show me your favorite spots, okay?
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Hajime's fingers tremble slightly - hopefully not so much that Nagito feels them, but... if Nagito can hold Hajime's shirt like that, then surely Hajime can hold on to the fabric of Nagito's blue gown, right? It won't be weird, will it? He's... thinking way too hard about this, isn't he?
But it's hard not to think so hard. It's so hard not to be as aware of things as he is. It's a side-effect of his talent. He notices everything, now, and his brain is constantly analyzing everything he sees... Hajime has managed to relearn how to do normal things like a normal person would, but his talent is still capable of interfering. Like right now - if his mind wasn't analyzing his situation and every sensation excessively, Hajime might not be so nervous just walking Nagito to the mess hall.
It's kind of ironic. The reason he wanted talent, the reason he wanted to be talented, was so he could be more confident in himself, be a more confident person overall. But the talent given to him has just made him more inclined to think too hard, to analyse too deeply, to scrutinize even the smallest actions, things as small as fingers curling into his shoulder...
He sighs, and hopes Nagito doesn't hear it. He doesn't want Nagito to ask - Hajime doesn't know how he'd begin to explain this to him.
...He's going to explain this to him, at some point in the future, but that point isn't in the mess hall that's a few steps away. Though the hall would be a pretty good place for having a private conversation right now, what with its being quiet and empty, it's nearly one in the morning and Nagito has just woken up from a months-long nightmare. They'll have the more serious talk later. For now,]
I'll be glad to. I don't know if I have any favorite spots yet, but...
I guess that's just because I've hardly left the pod room since I woke up from the simulation. I just haven't had the time to go anywhere. [He raises his eyebrows, kind of optimistically.] I have the time now, though, so we can go out, whenever you're ready.
[He walks Nagito into the mess hall, and there are a few reasons he doesn't reach for the light switch on the wall. It's much darker in here than it was in the corridor, but not so dark that Hajime can't see where he's walking. There's enough moonlight in the room to make the basic shapes of the furniture stand out in the darkness.]
Nagito, um... Do you still like toast?
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This whole time, while he's been uselessly stuck inside that dream, Hinata has been wasting his life. It feels like a hot knife has been stabbed into his back, and guilt is rising up around him like a black muck that threatens to suck him down into that horrible pit of despair.
He's not worthy of such dedication. Hinata says it's fine, says it's ok that he did what he did, but Komaeda knows better. He knows that it's only a matter of time until Hinata will hate him, or worse, his luck will affect him.
Komaeda doesn't realize the way his grip has tightened on Hinata's shoulder, not until they're within the mess hall. He doesn't mention the lights either, he just lets Hinata lead him to an open chair, before he slides down into it. Even just a centimeter apart, Komaeda misses the feeling of support, of care—but it's also a relief. He leans his head back, exhaling a quiet sigh.]
Yeah, I still like toast...
[He responds, before finding the strength to pull his head back up again. He watches Hinata's back, quiet, contemplating. The question itches at the back of his mind, incessant, and normally he would ignore it. Or justify it himself. But right now, it's just too much.]
Hey... why didn't you just enjoy your freedom? You didn't have to sit with me all the time, you know... That must've been boring.
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Hajime's expression flattens. It's not sadness, and it's not disappointment, and it's definitely not despair... though it's not very hopeful, either. If at all.
With his back to Nagito, Hajime moves slowly to the kitchen counter not too far from the table Nagito's sitting at. Hajime gets a plate, a glass, sets them on the countertop. The light of the refrigerator is cold on his face when he takes out the carton of milk.
Boring, huh...
It's another side-effect of the talent given to him. No, a consequence, and it can't be escaped. He can negotiate with the boredom, but he can't remove himself from it as he would a shirt, or a tie... Boredom follows him everywhere in the way his skin does. In the past, it's led him to do-- to do things he-- things he feels sick thinking about - and he does feel sick when he thinks about those things. He can feel sick, now that he's reminded himself how to feel all that Izuru Kamukura couldn't.
He takes a slice of bread from the breadbox. Slotting it into the toaster, he pushes down on the lever, and the slice is locked into place.
Hajime wants it to be his turn to say he didn't hate it, but he... he can't lie to himself. Or to Nagito. Boring doesn't begin to describe it. He can't even begin to put into words how bored out of his mind he was over the past few months. For so long, his efforts to wake Nagito up were, god, so persistently fruitless...
If he was still Izuru Kamukura, he would have given up on (abandoned) the task of waking up (reawakening) his friend (just another lucky student, one of so many, so boring)... but he's not that person any more.]
It... [He's not going to lie and say it wasn't boring, but he's not going to agree with Nagito, either.] ...It was a lot of work. [Yeah, that's probably the best way to put it for now.] I mean, it wasn't like I was just sitting next to your pod. Most of the time I spent in the pod room, I spent actively trying to wake you up.
[There's a ka-ching behind him all of a sudden, and he turns with the plate in hand to take the bread from the toaster. Setting the slice on the plate, he returns to the countertop, to pour the milk into the glass. The carton goes back into the fridge. Then Hajime takes the plate of toast and the glass of milk over to where Nagito's sitting. After setting both down on the table, Hajime steps around and sits in the chair opposite Nagito.
He's not comfortable, though. Though that blank expression of his is settling, it's settling into a frown. What Nagito said about just enjoying his freedom...]
Nagito, you were in a coma. Even if... it was difficult, and exhausting, and sometimes even thankless, spending every day in the pod room, trying to wake you up, I... not even once did I want to just give up and leave you. I... haha, come on... I can't believe you'd...
You're my friend, Nagito. You know, I--
I don't not care about you.
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As Hinata keeps his back turned, all Komaeda can do is watch the way his body moves in the veiled darkness of the mess hall. His shoulders, his back, his head of wild, short-cropped hair—Komaeda merely watches him as if he is the figment of a lucid dream, like he isn't the same person he knew from the simulation. He knows that's wrong, that somewhere in there, Hajime Hinata lives; but he would be a fool to, at the same time, not remember that within him also lies Izuru Kamukura. Beneath the table, Komaeda's good hand grips his gloved shame.
Silence parses between them, drowning out the sound of the crashing ocean waves which seem so much more distant that right outside of Hotel Mirai. The toaster pops up with a heavy click, breaking that silence in a way that causes Komaeda to jolt. But he keeps staring, unblinking, at the silhouette of Hinata. Just how much of him is Hajime, and how much is Izuru?
His gaze lowers as the plate of toast and glass of milk that are set before him, and with an odd weightlessness, he remembers the last time Hinata had brought him food. Wasn't it when he was tied up, in the simulation? Had they really had any meals together alone?]
You know, Hajime... [Komaeda starts as he reaches for the piece of toast. He's not even that hungry, now that he thinks about it.] ...You're a really stubborn guy. I don't know anyone more stubborn than you are. Only you would try to wake up someone who wanted you dead not too long ago — but I guess for you that was a really long time ago, huh?
[His fingertips break off a corner of the bread, and rather than raising his gaze, he watches the way his meal crumbles beneath his touch.]
If it weren't for your stubbornness, I would suspect that I'm actually talking to Kamukura Izuru, you know?
[Komaeda leans his elbow on the table and brings that small piece of toast to his mouth as he does, along with the slow rise of his eyes. Even in the darkness that shrouds them, he can see those mismatched eyes perfectly clear. Like they cut through everything, even the flesh of his body, straight to his soul.]
What a roundabout way of saying you care about someone. Why did you phrase it like that? You don't have to lie to me if you just feel responsible. I won't hate you for being honest.
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[If Nagito's trying to make eye contact, he won't be able to. Hajime's staring at Nagito's fingers, at the corner of toast pinched loosely between them. Nagito's picking at his food. Either he's not hungry at all, or there's something on his mind that's bothering him. Or maybe it's both.
What happened on the fifth island was a long time ago for Hajime, yeah, but it would feel pretty recent to Nagito. ...How recent, though? Had Nagito felt the passing of the months that followed at all? In Nagito's mind, how long ago was it that he died?
Hajime sighs. He thinks he could be more understanding.]
...No, it's... I get it. I've had months to get over it, but you... must probably feel like it just happened. [And Nagito might feel this way for a while to come. Hajime will have to be ready for that.] I guess it only makes sense that it's still something you're thinking a lot about.
[Maybe it's just selfish of Hajime to insist that it doesn't matter anymore, when in fact it still matters a lot to Nagito. And as long as it does matter to him, then how Hajime feels about it is... yeah, it's just irrelevant. If Nagito moves on from this, it'll be whenever he's ready to. Not when Hajime wants him to.
But... This burst of stubbornness, it's not the only difference between him and Izuru Kamukura, is it? No, surely not... Even now, does Hajime still come across as being cold and insensitive -- to the same degree that Kamukura was...? No, he-- he's not like that anymore, is he? He doesn't want to be that way. He's not Kamukura. He wants to tell Nagito that he's not Kamukura, but that won't mean anything, will it, if Kamukura is nearly all that Nagito sees when he sees Hajime now. God, it-- That hurts, and not just Hajime's feelings. It's more than that.
Hajime's chest is heavy.]
I'm not lying to you, Nagito. And I'm not afraid to be honest with you, either. [Though there are definitely a few things Hajime is-- no, not exactly afraid, but definitely nervous, to just come out and honestly say. Admit, even. But...] You're reading into it too deeply, though. I was just trying to say that I... [god, why can't he just say it? Why does his voice have to catch like this? Why have to pause now, of all times?] ...I care. That's all. You're right, though, I could have phrased it a little more clearly. Sorry.
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In a way, he's mad about it—because if Hinata was more like Kamukura, if he was insensitive, apathetic, uncaring about Komaeda as a person—then this would be so much easier. Komaeda could hate him, or perhaps it would be like before the simulation, where he was fascinated by the hope that resided with him. Either way, it would be easier than feeling his chest tighten and his lungs going breathless just seeing how knotted up Hinata got when put on the spot.
There's probably something cruel in the way Komaeda enjoys seeing it, too. Because if Hinata is this worried about him, doesn't that mean he can trust him? That those words passed between them in the simulation, as distant as they were, were all true?]
Yeah, it feels recent. [He finally answers, as he dusts his fingers to get the crumbs stuck to them off. He picks up the toast proper then, and brings it to his mouth. The silence breaks with a thick crunch, and he chews his bite slowly. Once swallowed, he continues.]
When I found out about us all being Ultimate Despair, I could only focus on ridding the world of us through death.
[He pauses, and lowers his slice of toast back to the plate. His gaze hasn't left Hinata's and as it lids, the rest of his expression follows suit, softening into something forlorn... or perhaps... fond?]
Did you mourn me, when you found my body? I wonder what the Hinata back then, before realizing he was Kamukura Izuru, thought of my brilliant mystery.
[Did it make him sad? Did it make him happy? To finally be rid of the thorn in his side that was Komaeda Nagito... did he smile in the face of that death? Komaeda almost doesn't want to know the answer, but the pain of not knowing... is probably worse.]
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...If you want me to be honest, Nagito, then I'll tell you that mostly, I was angry. I was angry when we found your body, and I was angry because of the mystery you set up for us.
[He's not about to call it brilliant. Maybe to Nagito it was, but to Hajime and the others, it was just-- twisted, and frustrating, and awful.]
I was... so angry, Nagito. You know, even though you were being cold and distant with us at the time, even though you set the hotel on fire, even though you were against all of us and didn't trust any of us... even so, none of us wanted to see you like-- like that. Like how you ended up.
[A pause, and nothing crunches into the silence. Nagito's toast is on his plate.
Though what Nagito's talking about is so morbid, he's gazing at Hajime through an expression that Hajime can only describe as wilted. It's either the result of having been asleep in that pod for so many months, or it's because Nagito's still affected by what happened on the fifth island. ...Hajime hates that he thought about it in that order, but his brain still prioritizes cold logic and reasoning over emotional cues. His emotional intelligence is still compromised, nowhere near what it used to be.
It wasn't just Hajime's capacity for emotion that had been taken from him during that 'life-changing' operation. It was also his capacity to understand emotion in others, to even think in emotional terms at all. As Izuru Kamukura, he didn't process any emotions at all. Not his own, if he even had any, and definitely not anyone else's.
...Speaking of Izuru Kamukura, Nagito is. It's the second time Nagito's said that name tonight. He's really pushing some kind of point, isn't he... it's like he wants to make Kamukura the topic of discussion. Is that it? Maybe that's why he keeps bringing up the name. Does he want Hajime to say something about it?
Thinking about it now, will there even be another chance to have this talk, after tonight?
Tomorrow morning (or more accurately, in a few hours from now) Nagito will be wheeled in to the rehabilitation program set up by the Future Foundation - he'll be given things to do, appointments to make, a room of his own to stay in, and then there'll be all the operations he might have to have, all the work that'll probably be done on his arm. If he gets a spare moment over the next few weeks, he'll probably want to spend it by himself.
Meanwhile, Hajime will be expected to get on with his other tasks, his other obligations, he'll have a whole world to share his talent with now. Now that Nagito's awake, Hajime will have to get on with doing the other things he's been neglecting, the things expected of him as the Ultimate Hope.
It's still weird, referring to himself by that title, but it's not a weird he can't tolerate. It doesn't do to his stomach or his throat - or his head - what the name Izuru Kamukura does.]
...And, you know, learning that I was Izuru Kamukura hasn't changed anything. I mean, when I think about it now, when I really focus my thoughts on everything that happened on the fifth island, I still feel some of that anger.
[Bitterness seizes Hajime's face, and his eye contact with Nagito falls away like it's been cut in two.]
If I was still Izuru Kamukura, though, I wouldn't feel anything. If I was Kamukura, I wouldn't even be able to remember what it was like to feel anything. My memory of past events would still be clear, but recalling those memories, I wouldn't have any emotional response. I- I wouldn't even remember having felt anything at the time...
Even now, I'm still struggling to process emotions properly. In myself and in others. I'm getting a lot better with getting myself to feel things like a normal person would, but... when it comes to other people... there's still a slight delay, as if it's a language, and I'm not that fluent in it anymore.
[But a delayed reaction is still better than none at all, right?] But I'm not that different from the Hajime Hinata you knew in the simulation.
In fact, I-I'm more like that Hajime Hinata now, than I am Izuru Kamukura.
I don't want you to think of me any differently at all, Nagito. I'm still Hajime Hinata. I'm still that person you met on that island.
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So Hinata was angry, not sad, or lonely, or filled with hope... but anger. A bright, hot, righteous anger that lead him to victory. A chill runs down Komaeda's spine, and thoughtlessly, he rips off the piece of bread he had caught between his fingers.]
You really are... truly amazing...
[He exhales the words in a breathy laugh, and finally his expression cracks with a sharp smile. The bread between his fingers it released, bouncing off the plate and onto the table with a trail of crumbs.
Instead, Komaeda lifts his hands upwards, and rolls his shoulders in an easy shrug.]
I guess all I have to do is accept this defeat. You know, I really underestimated the Reserve Course.
[But that's not it, is it. Even in the simulation, Hinata had Kamukura's talents. They weren't locked away forever, merely hibernating. He wonders for a moment just how much of it had been used without Hinata even realizing it? Komaeda doesn't ask though, such a thought, well... it would probably just make Hinata mad to think about it.]
The Hajime from the island though... are you really? Which Hajime is the real Hajime? The one before Kamukura Izuru... the one in the simulation... the one sitting in front of me... You can understand why I'm apprehensive, can't you?
[If it hadn't been for Hinata, would Kamukura even exist? Would the tragedy have happened? Would the simulation have happened? Him... and every one of his classmates... would they have died like the rest of the students at Hope's Peak? Or would they simply have been spared from becoming Ultimate Despair?]
If you're really the same guy I met on the island, then you should know my feelings well, right?
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You shouldn't even have to ask something like which Hajime is the real one. The real Hajime Hinata is the one who still exists. The one who still has a future. The one who's working toward that future, while shouldering his past.
The Hajime Hinata who attended Hope's Peak Academy stopped existing the moment he signed that contract, and Kamukura ended along with the Neo World Program. But the Hajime Hinata you met on the island, he-- I, I made it out.
And those memories I made on the island, I brought them with me. I didn't leave any part of myself behind.
[The way Nagito slowly eats his toast and intermittently doesn't would be a little distracting, except that there's something else Hajime's too focused on right now to even take notice right now.]
So... yeah, I still remember your feelings. As if I could even forget something like that...
[I'm in love with... It almost sounded like a confession.
...Well, it was a kind of confession, wasn't it? Just not the one Hajime thought he'd been about to hear.]
But what are you trying to say by bringing that up now?
The hope sleeping inside me? When you said that to me, you already knew I was Kamukura, didn't you.
[Turning his head to the side, Hajime grits his teeth.]
And not only that, you knew what Kamukura had done, you knew better than anyone about the despair Kamukura was a part of... and you knew it so well that you... [he squeezes his eyes shut, and makes loose fists of his hands under the table] ...wanted me dead because of it.
[A pause, and then Hajime sighs, and his face pulls slowly into a frown of confusion.]
But it doesn't make sense. If you really thought there was hope inside me, and if you were really... in love... with that hope, then why did you try to do what you did? I...
Maybe I don't know your feelings that well. Whatever you were trying to say to me that day, I still don't understand it.
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[Komaeda's attention drops away, to the glass of milk that's sat untouched for the entirety of their conversation. Condensation beads against its surface, and for a moment, he watches the path that one of those dewdrops makes as it slides down towards the table.
He smiles, and for a moment it looks as if he's simply smiling for that little dewdrop before he grabs the glass and brings it to his lips. He takes a few, indulgent gulps of it before settling the base back down.]
You know, Hajime... my love for hope... it's a very selfless love. I don't want anything in return for it, I only want to serve that love and ensure a bright future. So anyone who strives for that hope is someone I love.
[His tongue darts across his lips, licking up the milk that remains on them before his gaze meets Hinata's once more. His eyes, even in the dim lighting of the room, are clear and vibrant.]
But once I knew that we were all Ultimate Despairs, I had a duty to hope to do what was right: to ensure that bright future. Perhaps that's why I failed though... my view is too narrow, I'm not the sort of guy that is able to see what isn't right in front of me.
[His smile spreads a little wider, a little more fond. What good would it do, he wonders, to tell Hinata that his love this time is a little more selfish...?]
But I'm glad that my death wasn't for nothing... it was yet another stepping stone for your hope. How could I not be happy about it?
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[...Is it possible Nagito didn't know?]
Anyway...
[He's looking for eye contact, but Nagito's casting a relaxed gaze at his glass of milk. A moment later, he's raising it to his smile, and the volume tilts and lowers as he takes heavy gulps down. There... shouldn't be anything weird about watching him drink, but even so, it embarrasses Hajime enough that he has to look away.
As soon as Hajime hears the setting down of glass on the tabletop, though, he glances back. Nagito's words glint in the darkness that Hajime's eyes have already adjusted to, and it's everything Hajime has heard him say before, until he gets to the last part.
...No, it's just Nagito being Nagito. When he says something like that, he's doesn't mean it in the way Hajime would hope he does.
It's dark enough that Hajime can just see the wet flick of Nagito's tongue along his lips... which is good, because if it were any brighter, Nagito would probably be able to see the color that's spilling across Hajime's face.
Nagito can't see what isn't right in front of him, huh...
Hajime's about to smile at the thought, but what Nagito goes on to say keeps the smile down, and instead brings out a sigh of exhaustion.]
I don't want to think about it like that, Nagito. [Hajime doesn't even want to talk about it anymore.] Even if you're happy now... even if I've gotten over it... you know, it still hurt a lot when you died.
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