[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.
[Komaeda sits forward and as he does, his arms fold on the table in front of him. No longer an apathetic doll to the conversation, he can't help but let his piqued interest show as Hinata struggles keep up his even façade.
Surely... surely it's moments like these where he knows Hinata isn't lying. When he woke from his coma, the memories came flooding back in—and there's no way he would forget the cold, listless stare of Kamukura. So to see those darting eyes, those lips that teeter between a smile and frown... all of it just makes him feel that much more comfortable.]
Perhaps it's impudent of me to get so excited over you feeling such strong emotions for me, Hajime. Even if it's just anger, or sadness...
[His head tilts with a carefree smile.]
No one has ever cared so much about me before... isn't it selfish that I would tease you just to experience your feelings?
[Komaeda reaches for the piece of toast that had bounced from his plate, sets it back on it, then sweeps his hand across the table to scoop up the crumbs into his palm.]
I would promise you I won't be dying again any time soon, but that's not a promise I can keep.
[The way Nagito's sitting forward on the table now, leaning in a little, it really is like this is making him happy. And... Hajime should be happy, knowing Nagito's in a good mood, but... but even so...
Hajime doesn't just feel hurt, he looks it, too. The corners of his lips are turned down and his eyes feel huge on his face.]
You're just teasing me...?
[The hurt worsens as Nagito goes on. Hajime tries to swallow most of it down, but it remains. His chest is sore. Why does Nagito have to talk about death so casually?
...No, Hajime knows why. Even now, after Nagito's been brought back to life in a way, death is still something he has to think about. He'll always have to think about it, as long as he's alive.]
I-- Y-You don't even need to promise something like that. Don't say things like that, Nagito. I don't want to think about you dying again.
[...but what Hajime wants to think about doesn't matter, does it. Nagito has to think about this all the time, whether he wants to or not. He doesn't get a choice.
They have good doctors here, and Hajime wants to promise Nagito that they might be able to do something to help his condition, but... that's not a promise he can keep, either.
He... he sighs. His emotional intelligence isn't strong enough that he can guess at the right thing to say, and he doesn't just want to say something for the sake of talking... His eyes dart around the room, and the ache in his chest intensifies as the silence settles in.]
[Even as Hinata frowns, even has his eyes go wide as dinner plates with his sorrow, Komaeda is smiling. Not because he enjoys the sight of it but because maybe, on some unconscious level, he wants his friend to give up on him. It's easier that way. Who knows when his luck will kill another person, or when his disease will finally claim him—and why would he ever want to burden Hinata with such things?
Yeah, everything would be a lot easier if Hinata had just let him stay in a coma.]
Everyone dies, Hajime... sooner or later. In fact, it's a miracle I've even lived this far. Not just because of my disease, but also because of the state of this despair-infested world.
[The crumbs he swept into his palm are deposited back onto the plate, with its half-eaten toast that's probably soft with cold by now. His gaze hasn't left Hinata's face though—and as he continues in that easy, carefree tone, his eyes fall half-lidded.]
I know you don't want to hear it, but that's the reality of my situation. That you would grieve if I died in the real world, though... you really are a great guy. Yeah, there's no what you're Kamukura if your eyes look so full of sadness right now.
[It's enough to simply be the recipient of such feelings. Even if his own heart hurts, even if his own head feels numb over the thought of such a fate...]
But I'm sorry for upsetting you, Hajime. I'll stop talking about it now, okay?
[Even if everyone dies eventually, that doesn't mean death is easy to think about. Even after everything that's happened... no, especially after everything that's happened, it's not like Hajime can think about death that easily.
He could tell Nagito that the world isn't as filled with despair as it used to be, that things have gotten better in the past few months. That the state of the world is gradually improving. But that's beside the point, isn't it. He lets the thoughts pass with a silent sigh.]
Sorry. I could be a little more understanding.
[Hajime watches as the crumbs are dusted back on to the plate, and then he glances up at Nagito. Nagito looks so... carefree. Maybe even relaxed? He's not agitated at all, and he doesn't look dejected or anything. A little thoughtful, but in the way you would be if you were talking about something as ordinary as the weather.
Well, not that death isn't an ordinary topic. But...
Hajime's reminded of their first few days on the island, when Nagito was going along with everything so comfortably, not even half as anxious and worried as Hajime was. At the time, Nagito's easy attitude had surprised Hajime, even frustrated him a little, and not sure how else to explain it, Hajime wondered if it might be because Nagito had already experienced a lot of trauma. Later he'd learn that yeah, Nagito had... and to just say it was 'a lot' of trauma was really, seriously, an understatement...
He's being insensitive. He frowns at the table, pissed off with himself.]
No, this isn't even about me, so I shouldn't be going on like it is.
I mean, this is something that affects someone I care about, so it's not like I can just ignore it. In fact, it'd be selfish of me to want to ignore it.
[A moment later, he undoes the furrow in his brow, and as the rest of his expression settles, he returns to Nagito.]
You don't have to apologize. And you don't have to drop the topic if you don't want to. I don't want to shut you down. If you want to talk about it, the least I can do is listen.
[He doesn't mean to wince at those words, in fact, Komaeda doesn't even realize the way he tenses up as Hinata speaks. He shouldn't tense up, he tells himself, but it's hard not to. He keeps repeating it, those words that he never thought he would really hear: Hinata cares about him.
Komaeda knew, on some level, that was the case. How could he not, when Hinata would always seek him out in the simulation, the second they had some free time? It always made him happy, and he... even revealed his biggest secrets to him. So really, he shouldn't feel so weird about hearing the words...
And yet, he can feel the heat that burns in his cheeks. The first time, it was easy to tease... but now? Komaeda can't just brush off those words, even if Hinata only means them in camaraderie.]
Hajime... [His voice is quiet, small,] I know I teased you about it before but... you don't have to keep mentioning how much you care about me.
[Oh no, what's this? His heart is hammering in his chest—and even in the veiled darkness of the mess hall, Komaeda lifts his hand to his face with the urge to hide his embarrassment.]
I-I said I was going to stop talking about it, so... let's talk about something else, okay?
[Nagito's wincing. ...Crap, has Hajime said something wrong?
But worry turns to surprise just a moment later, and Hajime's pulling one hand in, taken aback. What he's hearing in Nagito's voice, is that... embarrassment?
But Hajime's not sure why Nagito would be embarrassed. Is it more like disbelief, then? Hajime blinks.]
Well, I, I... [There's a few beats of courage in his chest, and bringing a closed hand to his mouth, he clears his throat. Then he settles, and faces Nagito directly.] ...You say that like you don't believe me. But you don't have to be so dismissive. I-I'm not lying or anything.
[Why is Nagito covering his face like that? Maybe he is embarrassed... Now Hajime's faltering. This is going to get pretty embarrassing for both of them at this rate, so maybe they should talk about something else...]
S-Sure.
[Hajime glances around the mess hall, like there's a topic of discussion to be noticed somewhere, even though he knows there definitely isn't. And even if there was, he wouldn't see it in the darkness. All he really can see is what's in front of him. Nagito, the plate of toast, the tabletop gleaming with moonlight...]
You wouldn't believe how clear the sky is here. [As conversational topics go, it's pretty uninspired, but when Nagito's just woken up from a months-long coma, what else is there to comfortably talk about, other than the weather?]
I mean, especially at night.
[He glances at the windows on the far wall, all of them curtained. If he was to open one of them now, would the light be too much for Nagito's eyes?]
It's like you can see all the stars the sky has to offer. It's really nothing like the sky we used to know.
[The more Hinata points out how dismissive Komaeda sounds, the more sheepish he starts to feel. He can feel his face burning, all the way to the cusps of his ears, and really... if he could just disappear, that would be great.]
Of course I believe you... so you don't have to keep repeating it.
[How could he not believe it? Hinata spent months by his side, caring for him, waiting for him. It would be impossible to just claim all of that were just a lie, because... even with Kamukura inside of him... Hinata isn't a liar.
Komaeda presses his fingers against the bridge of his nose, taking a couple slow, deep breaths through the nose—anything to just calm him a little bit—before meeting Hinata's gaze again.]
In the simulation... you would stare up at the sky a lot, I noticed. [He smiles some at the thought and leaves out the part where he would sometimes notice Hinata, sitting by the pool alone, watching the sky.
He doesn't miss the way Hinata glances at the curtains either, and within the steady silence of the room, the sound of his chair dragging against the floor is deafening when he stands. Still, Komaeda pays it no mind and walks his way (slow and steady) towards the windows. One-handedly, he slides those curtains open and stares up at the night sky.]
Hm... some things never change, do they? [He glances over his shoulder at Hinata,] they're different, but these are the stars you've been gazing at for months aren't they?
It feels like I'm a bit closer to you, just seeing this sky for the first time.
Haha... [The laugh's more of a self-conscious one.] Y-You noticed that?
[Had Nagito been paying that much attention to him? Or is Hajime wishfully overthinking this? In any case, he's beginning to feel a small, hopeful smile appear on his face.
It breaks into surprise a moment later, though. Nagito's chair scrapes noisily across the floor and he's getting to his feet -- wait, does he even have the energy to do that on his own? Won't he hurt himself? He-- he's not going to walk to the windows, is he? His outline wobbles a little in the darkness.]
H-Hey, Nagito, what are you--!
[Hajime pushes his own chair back and stands, going after him. Halfway across the stretch of floor between them, Hajime is hit with cool star- and moon-light, and reflexively he raises a hand above his forehead, relieving his eyes from the sudden flood of brightness.]
Y-Yeah. [It's more a sigh than a word. He crosses the rest of the way and stands where the curtains have been gathered.]
I... When I look up at the stars, I feel like...
I-It's a little embarrassing, but somehow, when I look up at the stars, I feel like I'm a part of something more than I am, if that makes sense? Like I'm a part of something bigger.
[His pause is more thoughtful, this time. More hesitant. But, he trusts Nagito, right? ...No, it's more like, he wants to trust Nagito.]
Or maybe it's like, having the stars above me, I don't feel that alone.
Whatever it is, it's kind of comforting.
[He looks back up at the sky, as if the deep blue light will cool down his face, which really needs it, right now. He blinks up at the sky, and remains that way for a moment.
Then Nagito continues, and there's a little pull in Hajime's chest. As taken aback as he is by Nagito's words, he... he thinks he knows what Nagito means by them.]
Yeah. [He turns his head to Nagito, who he can really see, now that the moonlight's pouring in.] I feel the same way. Closer to you, I mean.
[That small, hopeful smile from before returns, but it's sore in a way that Hajime can't describe, and for a reason he's not so sure he knows.]
[Even as Hinata joins him, Komaeda doesn't turn to look at him just yet. Rather, as he gazes up at that pin-pricked sky, he imagines just how many nights like these he missed just by being in that coma. No... just by being stuck in this messed up situation, all of them, how many beautiful nights have they missed?
But he can't help the little laugh that leaves him, even if it isn't in mocking, at the sound of Hinata's worry.]
A guy like you who shines so brightly... how can you feel alone?
[Finally, he turns to look at Hinata, and for a moment he's mesmerized by the way moonlight washes over his features. In the light, it's much easier to catch sight of those mismatched eyes, and something tugs within his chest. It's a reminder that this Hinata is both different, and the same, than the one he came to care for within the simulation.]
But... you fulfilled the wish of a guy like me, didn't you? You never left me alone... hah...
[He reaches his hand upwards, rubbing the heel of his palm against his eye. It stings a bit, and he can feel heat rising to his cheeks again but... he manages to reel it back.]
I guess I should be thanking you, Hajime... for staying by my side.
['Shines so brightly', huh... It'd be nice to believe that's the kind of person he is, but realistically, how often does Hajime feel that way about himself? How many times has he really felt that way?
Yeah. If he ever believed that about himself, he wouldn't have signed that contract, would he. He wouldn't have let every part of himself get unpicked and taken apart and completely redone. He wouldn't have become Izuru Kamukura, and maybe what happened to Hope's Peak Academy wouldn't have happened... but there's no point in dwelling on things that have already happened and can't be undone.
Feeling alone, though... Can he tell Nagito what he means by that? If Nagito could have shared with Hajime things about himself that were really personal, then can't Hajime do the same now? Can't he at least try to? He... Yeah, he wants to. He takes in a breath.]
The thing is... [He glances aside a moment, testing his words in his head before saying them out loud.] Isn't it difficult to want to share yourself with others, or even with just one other person, when you aren't... exactly happy with who you are?
[His shoulders stiffen, and eye contact might be a bad idea right now. He leads his stare out the window, but more in the direction of the sea than the stars above it.
A moment passes, cool and still. Then, across from him, Nagito's voice wavers, and Hajime glances back at him in time to see him cover half his face with his hand. Nagito pulls it away almost instantly, and though Hajime can't see any wet streaks on Nagito's face, he does see a little redness under the eyes.]
Nagito, you... you don't have to thank me. I wasn't just going to leave you.
[He's already said part of the reason why (actually, he's said it enough times that Nagito had to ask him to stop saying it), but... what about the rest?
...No, unlike I care about you, the rest isn't something he can just come out and say.]
[Beneath the moonlight, as Hinata keeps his gaze forward, it would be impossible not to notice the subtle melancholy of his expression as those words leave his lips. For a moment, the urge to chuckle at them washes over Komaeda—yet with his lithe fingers still curled into the sheer curtain, all he wants to really do is pull that cloth around them and shield Hinata from such feelings. Self-love isn't something Komaeda knows, perhaps a confidence in some of his good sides (as few as they are), but that's it.
He's quiet, quiet enough that he can almost hear the disquiet that buzzes through Hinata's mind as he once more rejects his thanks. Stubborn Hinata, he muses to himself as his own brow furrows, if only he would let Komaeda appreciate him.]
You know, before you woke me up from my coma... I was dreaming about a world where I didn't have my ultimate luck. [Komaeda's tone drops, low enough that the crashing tide just beyond that window might even drown it out, but he keeps his attention focused on the way moonlight catches Hinata's features.] In that dream, I had friends... true friends... and my parents were alive. I was happy, so happy in fact that I wished the entire world was as talentless as I was.
[He steps forward, and with his stride he tugs that curtain again until it shields Hinata's view of the ocean. Look at me, only me. The gaze Komaeda settles on him is a melancholy of his own, but beneath it, his smile is bright.]
But I'm glad I have my ultimate luck. It's given to me just as much as it's taken... because if it weren't for my ultimate luck, I'm not sure our paths would have ever crossed.
[Komaeda's head tilts, angling so that he can hold Hinata's gaze with his own. Beneath long lashes, his eyes fall half-lidded.]
I'm glad you're you, Hajime... no, I'm relieved you're you. Not Kamukura, or anyone else but the you from the simulation. The one I became friends with. So... if you're ever unhappy, tell me. You listened to my troubles, so I only want to do the same for you... okay?
[Hajime's gaze is a distant one. Even though Nagito's stepped forward (to draw the curtain across the sky and the sea, leaving Hajime nowhere to look but at him), Hajime feels far away from him, no, from everything, in a weightless way, like he isn't even here. This entire scene, he could be watching it from the far back row of an old cinema.
That's some dream Nagito had... What would it be like, having a dream like that, a dream where you were granted a wish you didn't even know you had? Hajime's never had that kind of dream - his have been either too absurd to mean anything, or based on past events, memories rewound in his mind.
A world where Nagito wasn't lucky, huh... What would that be like? When Nagito's luck works in strange, unpredictable ways, it's hard to say if his luck had anything to do with their paths crossing. Kamukura might have detected the regularities in that irregular luck, after some thought, and Hajime could do the same now, if he pauses to think about it, but he leaves it. He's more focused on what Nagito said, about being glad... A small smile appears on Hajime's face.]
That I got to meet you on the island, and spend time with you, and get to know you better... I don't know whether it's luck or not, but I'm still glad for it.
[A world where Nagito isn't lucky, Hajime can't imagine what that world would look like. But it sounds like that world made Nagito really happy for a while... maybe, in this world, Hajime's not the only one who feels alone. The reason for it might be different, but even so, isn't it still the same feeling?]
Yeah. I'm glad you're you as well, Nagito.
[And if he feels relief, it's not relief that Nagito's Nagito (though there's no doubt he's glad about that). It's more like, if Hajime can believe what Nagito's saying - and this time, he really wants to - then Nagito still thinks of him as the same person, the same Hajime Hinata, that he met in the simulation. He's not Kamukura. He's not a stranger. He might be someone Nagito can trust. He... He definitely wants to be that.
It'd be difficult, and awkward, and even embarrassing, to admit his unhappiness to Nagito. There's so much of it now that he's carrying the burden of Kamukura with him. But... he wants to trust Nagito, doesn't he? To have Nagito's trust, as well, to understand him a little better, to be comfortable around him, with him...
Cautiously, Hajime draws in a breath. His gaze slips for just a moment, out of nervousness.]
But, is it just my troubles you'd be happy to listen to? No, I guess what I'm really trying to ask is... whether that's all you want me to share with you.
[If that's all, then he won't say it. But if Nagito's open to hearing more, then... this might be the best time to share it. The future he wants, the world he wants, it won't just happen. It's something he has to create.]
[Komaeda knows that it's merely phrasing, that given the context of their conversation, he would be silly to hope for anything more. Yet, it's in this moment where he remembers his confession in the simulation so vividly—and how he had chickened out at the last second to frame his words of love in a way where Hinata might not be able to know his true intentions.
He was coaxed then by the same feeling now: his stomach, flipping and twisting into nervous knots as he watches the lines of the other's face and how he turns his gaze away with his own nerves. It would be too forward to touch Hinata—no, his heart probably wouldn't be able to handle it—even if he really wants to just take that large hand in his own, and give it a reassuring squeeze.]
Would it be too greedy to say that I want to know every thing? [Komaeda's voice is soft once more, and he turns so that they're shoulder to shoulder. His good hand finds a fold on the sheer curtain, and it flutters the length of it between his fingers as he fidgets.] The good things, the bad things... your favorite things to eat, and your favorite things to see... what you hate, what you love... I want to know them all.
[Thank god, he thinks, for the curtain shielding their faces from the moonlight once more. He can feel the way his cheeks burn red, all the way to the cusps of his ears.]
I want you to know about me, too, Hajime. Even if my life is mostly sad stories... is it okay if I share them all with you? Would you even believe me... if I did?
[Then, is now the time to tell him? ...Hajime's throat tightens at the thought. What he wants to say, what he's wanted to say for a while, what he thinks he should tell Nagito now, while they have this time together... it's not going to be easy to say.
If he was still Kamukura... no. Kamukura wouldn't even have the feelings that Hajime has now, would he. Hajime shouldn't think in terms of what Kamukura would do. He isn't Izuru Kamukura anymore. He's... his own self. Hajime Hinata. He has aspirations, he dreams, he has dreams, and feelings, as well, feelings of regret, remorse, and- and love, and he's nervous, and he's more human than Kamukura, right?
Hajime's words are slow to come, and at first they're not exactly the words he wants to say. But they're audible enough, and gradually the silence dividing him from Nagito fades away.]
I... Well, there's a lot. I wouldn't really know where to begin.
[When Nagito says he wants to know every thing, does he really mean that? Or is it one of those things that people say, just a generalization that doesn't mean anything? The curtain shimmers between Nagito's fingers, and the want to reach out and intertwine their hands is aching inside Hajime's chest.
The good things, the bad things, his... favorite things to eat? And-- and see? What he hates, and what he loves? Hajime's breath catches in his throat at the sound of that word. It's low and soft in Nagito's voice, the way it had been when Nagito first said it, back in the simulation. Hajime's reaction now is hardly any different than it was then - his heart is thudding so loudly, it's hurting his ears.]
But... you know, there is something I want to tell you, something that is important to me, and if you're happy to listen, then I probably shouldn't put it off any longer. So, um.
[God, it's like Hajime's ribcage is tightening. No, like every part of him is tightening, or being pulled taut, he's so nervous, dammit.]
...S-Sorry, this is kind of hard to say. [He takes in a breath, as if to encourage himself, then lets it out forcefully, squeezing his fists.] Nagito, I...
I want to know more about you, too. Anything you want to share with me, I'll listen to it, gladly. Even if it takes me some time to believe it all, and even if it's nearly impossible to believe, I still want to try. I want to understand you better, Nagito.
[Hajime's stare has been averted all this time. He's been talking at the curtain. But now he pauses, tries to turn and face Nagito, to meet his gaze, if Nagito's even gazing. If Hajime's really going to say the next part, he wants to look Nagito in the eye when he says it. What he's about to say, he'll only be able to say once. He doesn't want to screw this up - he wants to do it right.]
When I said I cared about you, I meant it. [Is that clear enough? Will Nagito know what he means by that? What if he doesn't? No, Hajime should just come out and say it. 'What he loves', huh?]
Actually, Nagito, I...
[He can say it, right? Nagito's used this word before, so it shouldn't be weird if Hajime uses it now. There really isn't any other way to say it. He swallows, his gaze still connected to Nagito's. He can say it.]
[Seeing Hinata nervous isn't a rare sight in the slightest, in fact, it almost feels more normal than when he's confident... or assertive. It reminds Komaeda that this truly is the Hinata he's come to know and care for; but with the way he fumbles his words, and how his tongue seems to weighted in his mouth, slowly Komaeda starts to feel nervous too. What sort of admission has this brevity? What could be so important that it can't wait until when he isn't as fatigued?
His heart thunders in his breast—so hard it feels like it might burst through his ribs. For a moment, he almost feels sick. Like vertigo is running him over and the blood that's rushing through his veins will burn him from the inside out. Still, regardless of the thoughts that race through his mind, Komaeda retains his gentle smile. Whether it's good or bad, he'll accept it.
Then those words reach his ears, trembling with nerves, and it's like time has stopped. His heart's no longer racing, rather, it's dropped down into the pit of his stomach, where it's doing backflips. He hasn't realized the way his fingers have curled into the curtain, gripping it so tightly that the rod above creaks beneath the sudden strain.]
If this is a joke... it's a cruel one.
[The words escape his lips before he even has a chance to think about them, because he's too distracted with keeping himself from crying. His face feels hot. His eyes sting. He pulls the curtain between them, hiding himself from Hinata.]
You have to tell me if this is a joke, Hajime, otherwise... I'll—
[He'll what? His own voice is trembling. He doesn't want to believe, or more like, he can't believe it. How could Hinata love him? After everything he's done? Even before, when he found out Hinata was just some talentless reserve course student with a manufactured talent... he was so angry with himself for caring for him the way he did. And now... can he really hope for those returned feelings?]
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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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Surely... surely it's moments like these where he knows Hinata isn't lying. When he woke from his coma, the memories came flooding back in—and there's no way he would forget the cold, listless stare of Kamukura. So to see those darting eyes, those lips that teeter between a smile and frown... all of it just makes him feel that much more comfortable.]
Perhaps it's impudent of me to get so excited over you feeling such strong emotions for me, Hajime. Even if it's just anger, or sadness...
[His head tilts with a carefree smile.]
No one has ever cared so much about me before... isn't it selfish that I would tease you just to experience your feelings?
[Komaeda reaches for the piece of toast that had bounced from his plate, sets it back on it, then sweeps his hand across the table to scoop up the crumbs into his palm.]
I would promise you I won't be dying again any time soon, but that's not a promise I can keep.
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Hajime doesn't just feel hurt, he looks it, too. The corners of his lips are turned down and his eyes feel huge on his face.]
You're just teasing me...?
[The hurt worsens as Nagito goes on. Hajime tries to swallow most of it down, but it remains. His chest is sore. Why does Nagito have to talk about death so casually?
...No, Hajime knows why. Even now, after Nagito's been brought back to life in a way, death is still something he has to think about. He'll always have to think about it, as long as he's alive.]
I-- Y-You don't even need to promise something like that. Don't say things like that, Nagito. I don't want to think about you dying again.
[...but what Hajime wants to think about doesn't matter, does it. Nagito has to think about this all the time, whether he wants to or not. He doesn't get a choice.
They have good doctors here, and Hajime wants to promise Nagito that they might be able to do something to help his condition, but... that's not a promise he can keep, either.
He... he sighs. His emotional intelligence isn't strong enough that he can guess at the right thing to say, and he doesn't just want to say something for the sake of talking... His eyes dart around the room, and the ache in his chest intensifies as the silence settles in.]
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Yeah, everything would be a lot easier if Hinata had just let him stay in a coma.]
Everyone dies, Hajime... sooner or later. In fact, it's a miracle I've even lived this far. Not just because of my disease, but also because of the state of this despair-infested world.
[The crumbs he swept into his palm are deposited back onto the plate, with its half-eaten toast that's probably soft with cold by now. His gaze hasn't left Hinata's face though—and as he continues in that easy, carefree tone, his eyes fall half-lidded.]
I know you don't want to hear it, but that's the reality of my situation. That you would grieve if I died in the real world, though... you really are a great guy. Yeah, there's no what you're Kamukura if your eyes look so full of sadness right now.
[It's enough to simply be the recipient of such feelings. Even if his own heart hurts, even if his own head feels numb over the thought of such a fate...]
But I'm sorry for upsetting you, Hajime. I'll stop talking about it now, okay?
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[Even if everyone dies eventually, that doesn't mean death is easy to think about. Even after everything that's happened... no, especially after everything that's happened, it's not like Hajime can think about death that easily.
He could tell Nagito that the world isn't as filled with despair as it used to be, that things have gotten better in the past few months. That the state of the world is gradually improving. But that's beside the point, isn't it. He lets the thoughts pass with a silent sigh.]
Sorry. I could be a little more understanding.
[Hajime watches as the crumbs are dusted back on to the plate, and then he glances up at Nagito. Nagito looks so... carefree. Maybe even relaxed? He's not agitated at all, and he doesn't look dejected or anything. A little thoughtful, but in the way you would be if you were talking about something as ordinary as the weather.
Well, not that death isn't an ordinary topic. But...
Hajime's reminded of their first few days on the island, when Nagito was going along with everything so comfortably, not even half as anxious and worried as Hajime was. At the time, Nagito's easy attitude had surprised Hajime, even frustrated him a little, and not sure how else to explain it, Hajime wondered if it might be because Nagito had already experienced a lot of trauma. Later he'd learn that yeah, Nagito had... and to just say it was 'a lot' of trauma was really, seriously, an understatement...
He's being insensitive. He frowns at the table, pissed off with himself.]
No, this isn't even about me, so I shouldn't be going on like it is.
I mean, this is something that affects someone I care about, so it's not like I can just ignore it. In fact, it'd be selfish of me to want to ignore it.
[A moment later, he undoes the furrow in his brow, and as the rest of his expression settles, he returns to Nagito.]
You don't have to apologize. And you don't have to drop the topic if you don't want to. I don't want to shut you down. If you want to talk about it, the least I can do is listen.
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Komaeda knew, on some level, that was the case. How could he not, when Hinata would always seek him out in the simulation, the second they had some free time? It always made him happy, and he... even revealed his biggest secrets to him. So really, he shouldn't feel so weird about hearing the words...
And yet, he can feel the heat that burns in his cheeks. The first time, it was easy to tease... but now? Komaeda can't just brush off those words, even if Hinata only means them in camaraderie.]
Hajime... [His voice is quiet, small,] I know I teased you about it before but... you don't have to keep mentioning how much you care about me.
[Oh no, what's this? His heart is hammering in his chest—and even in the veiled darkness of the mess hall, Komaeda lifts his hand to his face with the urge to hide his embarrassment.]
I-I said I was going to stop talking about it, so... let's talk about something else, okay?
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But worry turns to surprise just a moment later, and Hajime's pulling one hand in, taken aback. What he's hearing in Nagito's voice, is that... embarrassment?
But Hajime's not sure why Nagito would be embarrassed. Is it more like disbelief, then? Hajime blinks.]
Well, I, I... [There's a few beats of courage in his chest, and bringing a closed hand to his mouth, he clears his throat. Then he settles, and faces Nagito directly.] ...You say that like you don't believe me. But you don't have to be so dismissive. I-I'm not lying or anything.
[Why is Nagito covering his face like that? Maybe he is embarrassed... Now Hajime's faltering. This is going to get pretty embarrassing for both of them at this rate, so maybe they should talk about something else...]
S-Sure.
[Hajime glances around the mess hall, like there's a topic of discussion to be noticed somewhere, even though he knows there definitely isn't. And even if there was, he wouldn't see it in the darkness. All he really can see is what's in front of him. Nagito, the plate of toast, the tabletop gleaming with moonlight...]
You wouldn't believe how clear the sky is here. [As conversational topics go, it's pretty uninspired, but when Nagito's just woken up from a months-long coma, what else is there to comfortably talk about, other than the weather?]
I mean, especially at night.
[He glances at the windows on the far wall, all of them curtained. If he was to open one of them now, would the light be too much for Nagito's eyes?]
It's like you can see all the stars the sky has to offer. It's really nothing like the sky we used to know.
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Of course I believe you... so you don't have to keep repeating it.
[How could he not believe it? Hinata spent months by his side, caring for him, waiting for him. It would be impossible to just claim all of that were just a lie, because... even with Kamukura inside of him... Hinata isn't a liar.
Komaeda presses his fingers against the bridge of his nose, taking a couple slow, deep breaths through the nose—anything to just calm him a little bit—before meeting Hinata's gaze again.]
In the simulation... you would stare up at the sky a lot, I noticed. [He smiles some at the thought and leaves out the part where he would sometimes notice Hinata, sitting by the pool alone, watching the sky.
He doesn't miss the way Hinata glances at the curtains either, and within the steady silence of the room, the sound of his chair dragging against the floor is deafening when he stands. Still, Komaeda pays it no mind and walks his way (slow and steady) towards the windows. One-handedly, he slides those curtains open and stares up at the night sky.]
Hm... some things never change, do they? [He glances over his shoulder at Hinata,] they're different, but these are the stars you've been gazing at for months aren't they?
It feels like I'm a bit closer to you, just seeing this sky for the first time.
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[Had Nagito been paying that much attention to him? Or is Hajime wishfully overthinking this? In any case, he's beginning to feel a small, hopeful smile appear on his face.
It breaks into surprise a moment later, though. Nagito's chair scrapes noisily across the floor and he's getting to his feet -- wait, does he even have the energy to do that on his own? Won't he hurt himself? He-- he's not going to walk to the windows, is he? His outline wobbles a little in the darkness.]
H-Hey, Nagito, what are you--!
[Hajime pushes his own chair back and stands, going after him. Halfway across the stretch of floor between them, Hajime is hit with cool star- and moon-light, and reflexively he raises a hand above his forehead, relieving his eyes from the sudden flood of brightness.]
Y-Yeah. [It's more a sigh than a word. He crosses the rest of the way and stands where the curtains have been gathered.]
I... When I look up at the stars, I feel like...
I-It's a little embarrassing, but somehow, when I look up at the stars, I feel like I'm a part of something more than I am, if that makes sense? Like I'm a part of something bigger.
[His pause is more thoughtful, this time. More hesitant. But, he trusts Nagito, right? ...No, it's more like, he wants to trust Nagito.]
Or maybe it's like, having the stars above me, I don't feel that alone.
Whatever it is, it's kind of comforting.
[He looks back up at the sky, as if the deep blue light will cool down his face, which really needs it, right now. He blinks up at the sky, and remains that way for a moment.
Then Nagito continues, and there's a little pull in Hajime's chest. As taken aback as he is by Nagito's words, he... he thinks he knows what Nagito means by them.]
Yeah. [He turns his head to Nagito, who he can really see, now that the moonlight's pouring in.] I feel the same way. Closer to you, I mean.
[That small, hopeful smile from before returns, but it's sore in a way that Hajime can't describe, and for a reason he's not so sure he knows.]
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But he can't help the little laugh that leaves him, even if it isn't in mocking, at the sound of Hinata's worry.]
A guy like you who shines so brightly... how can you feel alone?
[Finally, he turns to look at Hinata, and for a moment he's mesmerized by the way moonlight washes over his features. In the light, it's much easier to catch sight of those mismatched eyes, and something tugs within his chest. It's a reminder that this Hinata is both different, and the same, than the one he came to care for within the simulation.]
But... you fulfilled the wish of a guy like me, didn't you? You never left me alone... hah...
[He reaches his hand upwards, rubbing the heel of his palm against his eye. It stings a bit, and he can feel heat rising to his cheeks again but... he manages to reel it back.]
I guess I should be thanking you, Hajime... for staying by my side.
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Yeah. If he ever believed that about himself, he wouldn't have signed that contract, would he. He wouldn't have let every part of himself get unpicked and taken apart and completely redone. He wouldn't have become Izuru Kamukura, and maybe what happened to Hope's Peak Academy wouldn't have happened... but there's no point in dwelling on things that have already happened and can't be undone.
Feeling alone, though... Can he tell Nagito what he means by that? If Nagito could have shared with Hajime things about himself that were really personal, then can't Hajime do the same now? Can't he at least try to? He... Yeah, he wants to. He takes in a breath.]
The thing is... [He glances aside a moment, testing his words in his head before saying them out loud.] Isn't it difficult to want to share yourself with others, or even with just one other person, when you aren't... exactly happy with who you are?
[His shoulders stiffen, and eye contact might be a bad idea right now. He leads his stare out the window, but more in the direction of the sea than the stars above it.
A moment passes, cool and still. Then, across from him, Nagito's voice wavers, and Hajime glances back at him in time to see him cover half his face with his hand. Nagito pulls it away almost instantly, and though Hajime can't see any wet streaks on Nagito's face, he does see a little redness under the eyes.]
Nagito, you... you don't have to thank me. I wasn't just going to leave you.
[He's already said part of the reason why (actually, he's said it enough times that Nagito had to ask him to stop saying it), but... what about the rest?
...No, unlike I care about you, the rest isn't something he can just come out and say.]
I mean it. I wouldn't do something like that.
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He's quiet, quiet enough that he can almost hear the disquiet that buzzes through Hinata's mind as he once more rejects his thanks. Stubborn Hinata, he muses to himself as his own brow furrows, if only he would let Komaeda appreciate him.]
You know, before you woke me up from my coma... I was dreaming about a world where I didn't have my ultimate luck. [Komaeda's tone drops, low enough that the crashing tide just beyond that window might even drown it out, but he keeps his attention focused on the way moonlight catches Hinata's features.] In that dream, I had friends... true friends... and my parents were alive. I was happy, so happy in fact that I wished the entire world was as talentless as I was.
[He steps forward, and with his stride he tugs that curtain again until it shields Hinata's view of the ocean. Look at me, only me. The gaze Komaeda settles on him is a melancholy of his own, but beneath it, his smile is bright.]
But I'm glad I have my ultimate luck. It's given to me just as much as it's taken... because if it weren't for my ultimate luck, I'm not sure our paths would have ever crossed.
[Komaeda's head tilts, angling so that he can hold Hinata's gaze with his own. Beneath long lashes, his eyes fall half-lidded.]
I'm glad you're you, Hajime... no, I'm relieved you're you. Not Kamukura, or anyone else but the you from the simulation. The one I became friends with. So... if you're ever unhappy, tell me. You listened to my troubles, so I only want to do the same for you... okay?
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That's some dream Nagito had... What would it be like, having a dream like that, a dream where you were granted a wish you didn't even know you had? Hajime's never had that kind of dream - his have been either too absurd to mean anything, or based on past events, memories rewound in his mind.
A world where Nagito wasn't lucky, huh... What would that be like? When Nagito's luck works in strange, unpredictable ways, it's hard to say if his luck had anything to do with their paths crossing. Kamukura might have detected the regularities in that irregular luck, after some thought, and Hajime could do the same now, if he pauses to think about it, but he leaves it. He's more focused on what Nagito said, about being glad... A small smile appears on Hajime's face.]
That I got to meet you on the island, and spend time with you, and get to know you better... I don't know whether it's luck or not, but I'm still glad for it.
[A world where Nagito isn't lucky, Hajime can't imagine what that world would look like. But it sounds like that world made Nagito really happy for a while... maybe, in this world, Hajime's not the only one who feels alone. The reason for it might be different, but even so, isn't it still the same feeling?]
Yeah. I'm glad you're you as well, Nagito.
[And if he feels relief, it's not relief that Nagito's Nagito (though there's no doubt he's glad about that). It's more like, if Hajime can believe what Nagito's saying - and this time, he really wants to - then Nagito still thinks of him as the same person, the same Hajime Hinata, that he met in the simulation. He's not Kamukura. He's not a stranger. He might be someone Nagito can trust. He... He definitely wants to be that.
It'd be difficult, and awkward, and even embarrassing, to admit his unhappiness to Nagito. There's so much of it now that he's carrying the burden of Kamukura with him. But... he wants to trust Nagito, doesn't he? To have Nagito's trust, as well, to understand him a little better, to be comfortable around him, with him...
Cautiously, Hajime draws in a breath. His gaze slips for just a moment, out of nervousness.]
But, is it just my troubles you'd be happy to listen to? No, I guess what I'm really trying to ask is... whether that's all you want me to share with you.
[If that's all, then he won't say it. But if Nagito's open to hearing more, then... this might be the best time to share it. The future he wants, the world he wants, it won't just happen. It's something he has to create.]
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He was coaxed then by the same feeling now: his stomach, flipping and twisting into nervous knots as he watches the lines of the other's face and how he turns his gaze away with his own nerves. It would be too forward to touch Hinata—no, his heart probably wouldn't be able to handle it—even if he really wants to just take that large hand in his own, and give it a reassuring squeeze.]
Would it be too greedy to say that I want to know every thing? [Komaeda's voice is soft once more, and he turns so that they're shoulder to shoulder. His good hand finds a fold on the sheer curtain, and it flutters the length of it between his fingers as he fidgets.] The good things, the bad things... your favorite things to eat, and your favorite things to see... what you hate, what you love... I want to know them all.
[Thank god, he thinks, for the curtain shielding their faces from the moonlight once more. He can feel the way his cheeks burn red, all the way to the cusps of his ears.]
I want you to know about me, too, Hajime. Even if my life is mostly sad stories... is it okay if I share them all with you? Would you even believe me... if I did?
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If he was still Kamukura... no. Kamukura wouldn't even have the feelings that Hajime has now, would he. Hajime shouldn't think in terms of what Kamukura would do. He isn't Izuru Kamukura anymore. He's... his own self. Hajime Hinata. He has aspirations, he dreams, he has dreams, and feelings, as well, feelings of regret, remorse, and- and love, and he's nervous, and he's more human than Kamukura, right?
Hajime's words are slow to come, and at first they're not exactly the words he wants to say. But they're audible enough, and gradually the silence dividing him from Nagito fades away.]
I... Well, there's a lot. I wouldn't really know where to begin.
[When Nagito says he wants to know every thing, does he really mean that? Or is it one of those things that people say, just a generalization that doesn't mean anything? The curtain shimmers between Nagito's fingers, and the want to reach out and intertwine their hands is aching inside Hajime's chest.
The good things, the bad things, his... favorite things to eat? And-- and see? What he hates, and what he loves? Hajime's breath catches in his throat at the sound of that word. It's low and soft in Nagito's voice, the way it had been when Nagito first said it, back in the simulation. Hajime's reaction now is hardly any different than it was then - his heart is thudding so loudly, it's hurting his ears.]
But... you know, there is something I want to tell you, something that is important to me, and if you're happy to listen, then I probably shouldn't put it off any longer. So, um.
[God, it's like Hajime's ribcage is tightening. No, like every part of him is tightening, or being pulled taut, he's so nervous, dammit.]
...S-Sorry, this is kind of hard to say. [He takes in a breath, as if to encourage himself, then lets it out forcefully, squeezing his fists.] Nagito, I...
I want to know more about you, too. Anything you want to share with me, I'll listen to it, gladly. Even if it takes me some time to believe it all, and even if it's nearly impossible to believe, I still want to try. I want to understand you better, Nagito.
[Hajime's stare has been averted all this time. He's been talking at the curtain. But now he pauses, tries to turn and face Nagito, to meet his gaze, if Nagito's even gazing. If Hajime's really going to say the next part, he wants to look Nagito in the eye when he says it. What he's about to say, he'll only be able to say once. He doesn't want to screw this up - he wants to do it right.]
When I said I cared about you, I meant it. [Is that clear enough? Will Nagito know what he means by that? What if he doesn't? No, Hajime should just come out and say it. 'What he loves', huh?]
Actually, Nagito, I...
[He can say it, right? Nagito's used this word before, so it shouldn't be weird if Hajime uses it now. There really isn't any other way to say it. He swallows, his gaze still connected to Nagito's. He can say it.]
I think I might be in love with you.
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His heart thunders in his breast—so hard it feels like it might burst through his ribs. For a moment, he almost feels sick. Like vertigo is running him over and the blood that's rushing through his veins will burn him from the inside out. Still, regardless of the thoughts that race through his mind, Komaeda retains his gentle smile. Whether it's good or bad, he'll accept it.
Then those words reach his ears, trembling with nerves, and it's like time has stopped. His heart's no longer racing, rather, it's dropped down into the pit of his stomach, where it's doing backflips. He hasn't realized the way his fingers have curled into the curtain, gripping it so tightly that the rod above creaks beneath the sudden strain.]
If this is a joke... it's a cruel one.
[The words escape his lips before he even has a chance to think about them, because he's too distracted with keeping himself from crying. His face feels hot. His eyes sting. He pulls the curtain between them, hiding himself from Hinata.]
You have to tell me if this is a joke, Hajime, otherwise... I'll—
[He'll what? His own voice is trembling. He doesn't want to believe, or more like, he can't believe it. How could Hinata love him? After everything he's done? Even before, when he found out Hinata was just some talentless reserve course student with a manufactured talent... he was so angry with himself for caring for him the way he did. And now... can he really hope for those returned feelings?]
I won't forgive you if you're lying to me.