#hajizuru hell

[suitov]

What has she done, that tedious waving wench, to earn your eyes on her?

[suitov]

(This is post-game and sad. Someone's in major distress. That's the only warning I can give.)

Certain circumstances cannot be postponed indefinitely. Once this makes itself apparent, I cause the digestive system to make a noticeable sound, then I cause the voice to say "Whoa! Guess that's my cue, huh!" and walk the entire apparatus out, in the presumed direction of the bathroom.

(Pekoyama avoids the eyes. Souda cackles "Hin-fart-a, am I right, Miss Sonia?" Nidai puts both thumbs up. Another has no reaction.)

Having escaped the room, I pilot the body to its cabin and seat it on the bed. I tuck the legs up beneath the chin. I arrange pillows and coverlet around the body and prepare to wait this situation out.

The door opens.

I had lacked the presence of mind to lock it. I had not anticipated any of the humans following. This was an unacceptable oversight. I am a failure.

Nagito enters. I do not react. Perhaps he will leave.

He sits on the edge of the mattress.

"I've been thinking about the water purifier, Hinata-kun," he says. His smile is. He is smiling, as usual. The corners of his mouth. "Do you think it's worth moving the backup unit to the hospital? It'd be handy to have a supply there, don't you think?"

I cause the voice to sound as it should and make it say "You know the drill. Add it to the notice board, yeah?"

"Mmm," he says. He begins to play with the edge of the coverlet.

I cannot find a conversational path that results in him leaving. This is an issue. Aversives were utilised generously in my training. They were not very effective. This situation would have been more so. I hug the knees to prevent the arms reaching for anything I did not intend.

"So, how long has it been?" Nagito asks in a casual manner, with undertones.

"Souda 'n' I finished the main unit three weeks back."

"And how long has it been since you were last around?" he asks.

He is not looking at the body. This is helpful. But I still cannot make a reply.

"I've been watching out for you, you know. Is that presumptuous of me?" He laughs. I have to clamp down on the body to prevent a physical reaction to that laugh. I miss being bored. I used to be bored. I used to have a steady heartbeat stretching out into infinity. I did not have to engage in leg-hugging.

"I shall be gone soon," I say, which is a lie because I have no idea how long I will be trapped here and furthermore no length of time in this state could possibly be described as soon.

"Oh. That's a shame."

"I believe you are in error," I say by accident.

"How so?" asks Nagito. He sets down the cover's edge and gives it a little pat. Then he looks at the body's face.

I set the head down on top of the knees.

"My presence at the surface is suboptimal," I say, somewhat muffled. "It is inconvenient. He has things to do. I am not w--" Pause. Pause pause pause.

Nagito tilts his head. "Not what? Welcome? Wanted? Worthy?"

After a struggle not to respond in the affirmative, I say "Not conducive. This is an error. It will correct itself presently."

I sense him leaning forward. To a human, he would be too close. Looming. They would recoil. I have no need of such reactions.

"Why," he asks softly (soft he is soft he is all softness and sharpness soft and sharp and close I dig its fingers into its calves), "do you think you're unwanted, Izuru? Sorry," he adds, when the body almost bucks itself out of my control. (I think it was the name. Nobody has. They. They all say him or you know, what Hinata was like before. I am used to being a wince, not a name.)

I am trained in interrogation methods. She liked to watch. I am trained to resist interrogation methods. I was not trained to resist soft.

"You are incapable of understanding," I say, in case he leaves.

"Oh, of course." He him his laugh is. "Being unwanted. People glancing away quickly. Being remembered for the worst things you did. In every room, being the unspoken problem! Nothing to understand there. I'm terribly sorry for implying otherwise."

Something is wrong with the body. Once he leaves I shall diagnose it and clean the face.

"Izuru..."

The body makes a disgusting, thick, wet, heaving, breathing sound. I would like it to stop doing that. Breathing included.

"Oh, Izuru." I feel the movement. I feel the mattress shift to accommodate. I cannot make the body do likewise. I cannot even make it stop leaking.

I cannot stop him wrapping himself around it. I cannot prevent it from leaning into him. What is the point of me. I cannot even. Cannot. The flesh prison is producing further ugly sounds.

"My poor Izuru," he murmurs. I have infected his voice, too, with wobble. He is stroking the head over and over. It is a wrong head and a light head and I am trapped in it.

You may leave. I will be fine, I tell him, but it comes out as "I should... not be here. He does not want me. They do not want me. I do not want me. I was supposed to be gone."

He holds and strokes it. I wish that were me. I hate this body. His body. Hate, hate.

"Why am I here?" Its voice is disgustingly clotted and that is my fault, no-one else's. I am detestable. "Why did it not work? Why must I be here? Why must I see? Why must I see him have everything? Why is that necessary? How much longer must I be punished?" I finally manage to stop it saying things.

Nagito holds it. Holds what he thinks of as me. And I let him.

It is over half an hour before anything happens. And afterwards, when I wake up, I am still here. Hajime must need a lot of rest. It is probably tiring, keeping me locked in; even though I do half the work, holding the door closed from the inside.

Nagito is still here. I have bad thoughts about this. Forbidden thoughts. Thoughts such as please stay and kiss him hold him never let go and would you please kill me? But, instead, I rearrange the bedding more equitably and then I go and wash the body's face with the body's hands and avoid the body's eyes.

And then. Even though he will hate me for it when he re-establishes control. I go back to bed. And I reach its arms for him, and he reaches back, and I steal more moments with this stolen body.

[suitov]

Please do not hate me. Please do not get angry.

what have you done

I need to ask for permission to do something.

what is it and is it outside of the cabin

It does not need to be.

so what is it

I want to kiss Nagito.

oh ha ha I see

Is that permission?

very funny.

Why is it funny?

it's not

Then, is that permission?

you can't be serious

But I really would like to kiss him if he says yes. To thank him for being nice to me and helping us.

you want to kiss komeada. a guy.

And to make him happy and extract the squeaks.

with my mouth.

That is the only one available to me.

and your asking permission.

Are you angry? Please do not start hating me again. I will not ask again.

whoa calm down Im not some angry monster!

I am the monster. I know.

u know im not calling you that anymore

I know that, but I have no other thing to be.

and wanting to kiss a dude isn't monster tier stuff its just kindof weird

You do not have feelings for Nagito?

what why would I? why would you even ask that? what do you know? has he said something??

I did not know whether or not that kind of thing was shared.

I haven't been randomly thinking about him if that's what your asking. Im too busy for that.

Even at night? Sometimes you sigh.

end of topic

So you do not give permission. As you wish.

wait I didn't say that.

?

look if you really want to get in some weird romance with that guy

I am weird so it would seem destined to be weird.

yeah no kidding but like. as long as hes into it?? I guess?????

I may use the body for the kissing?

just like. dont tell the others

Understood.

and like. you can tell me how it went if you want

[suitov]

(A reckoning was not postponed. Not as sad, but warning for bitchy Nagito my beloved and Hajime coping very badly with stuff.)

Hajime had a headache, but it was one of those "slept too long" headaches, so could've been worse. Admittedly he'd been going at it hard lately; everyone seemed to think he'd gone to his cottage and crashed for a day and a half and the general consensus was "about time".

It was worrying because he didn't remember going home, which could've conceivably been down to plain old tiredness, but... waking up missing a chunk of time had another, far worse, possible explanation.

His headache wasn't going away. In fact, it had called in reinforcements in the form of Komaeda, who was hovering in a way that meant he wanted to say something. Hajime, the only one left at the breakfast table thanks to his late rising, stubbornly shovelled eggs onto his toast and the resulting tasty mess into his mouth. Maybe Komaeda'd go away.

Komaeda sat down opposite him.

"There's something we need to discuss, Hinata-kun." Started no conversation Hajime wanted to have, ever.

Hajime grunted and downed a slug of juice.

"It can't wait long, so is now a good time?"

He put down the glass. "Actually, I've got something I need to do after I eat."

"Ah." Komaeda leaned back. "That'd be what I want to talk about, actually. I take it you mean your daily hate monologue in the mirror?"

"How the hell--" He stared. "Have you been stalking me?"

"No, I haven't." Komaeda had his hands folded. No idea what that meant.

"But then how... oh gods, you haven't." The only way Komaeda could've been told his personal business was if... something had been out.

"If you're asking have I spoken to a certain person, then the answer is yes."

"Komaeda!" Hajime slammed the table. His plate, glass and cutlery flew everywhere; Komaeda winced. "That's dangerous! I don't let that thing out near the rest of you for a good reason! It could attack any moment!"

Komaeda drew breath and sighed obnoxiously.

"Did it chase you down? Did it hurt you?" He frantically scanned the sickly twig for injury. "What the hell did it say? Did it tell you to do things? Try to turn you against me?"

"Hinata-kun, stop." That firmness in his tone was unusual. Gods, now he'd be panicking over every little difference in their behaviours until he found out what that demon had been doing. A day and a half without supervision! He clutched his head. Really not helping the headache situation.

"I said stop," Komaeda ordered. Damn guy actually ordered. It was so weird, Hajime calmed down for a moment.

"Just... tell me if that creature hurt you, yeah?" he managed.

"He did nothing of the sort."

"But it spoke to you, right? After everything... it's not supposed to talk to people! I thought we'd reached some kind of understanding, I --"

"Hinata-kun, listen to me. What you're doing with Izuru, it's not working. It has to change."

He gawped. "Tell... tell me you're not on a first-name basis with the poison inside my brain!"

Komaeda was taking this far too calmly. Who paused to examine their fingernails at a time like this? "Hinata-kun, just listen to how you talk about him. Izuru is not a thing. He's not a creature and he's not poison. He's a living being and he's in pain."

"He's in pain?" Hajime really wanted to throw something, but that was his dark side and he wasn't going to let that thing win a single further step forward. "He... it is pain. It's sheer evil, Komaeda. You can't treat it like it's a person. Don't you know the things it did? The attacks, the deaths?"

"I hardly think any of us has grounds to talk about that," sniffed Komaeda.

"No, see, you guys were brainwashed into it. That woman found your weaknesses and used them to destroy you, mould you into whatever she wanted." He waved his hands about, trying to portray spooky brainwashing vibes. "That thing joined her happily. It was a willing participant! It knowingly--"

"But did he, though? Is that really true?" Interrupting-Komaeda was an unfamiliar and... kind of an unwelcome Komaeda. "Izuru was a child, Hinata-kun. A brand new, vulnerable life. The rest of us were forced into despair. Izuru never knew anything else. He was created by brutal experimentation, kept in a darkened cell and trained like a dog. Who could make an informed choice under those conditions?"

"He had the whole of human knowledge to call on," Hajime scoffed.

"And absolutely no life experience."

"Fine. Fine." He really didn't want to continue this conversation. His eggs felt like they were curdling with his orange juice. "You think he's a poor little baby and you want to excuse his war crimes..."

"I just find it strange that you're capable of excusing everyone else's war crimes," said Komaeda with infuriating reasonableness. "You know what Hanamura and Owari got up to. You know the damage Soda's contraptions did to the atmosphere. I'm pretty sure you heard what I did in Towa."

"Yeah but--" He flailed for a cutting rejoinder. "None of that stuff was me, Komaeda."

Komaeda tilted his head.

"That gross pile of evil impulses you call Izuru -- that's not even its name, you know, it's just a historical figure -- is me. It's the worst side of me. That's all it is! It's what I'm really like, underneath, if I was given ultimate power and no conscience to hold me back. There's no 'him' there, Komaeda. Whatever it said to you, whatever master scheme it tried to recruit you to -- Izuru Kamukura isn't a person. It's my Jekyll and nothing more."

"Hy-- never mind. Do you want to know the evil scheme he wanted to enact, Hinata-kun?" Nagito's eyes were sharp green ice. It reminded him of that one trial. "He begged me to kill him. He wanted to find a way to end himself without harming you, or, failing that, to lock himself away forever. That was after he cried in my arms for hours and told me how much he hates himself. Why, compared to how he speaks of himself, the way you talk about him is positively kind!"

Hajime sat back. That was... no, that shouldn't be true. Manipulation. It had to be. Twist Komaeda's head all around and send him to tell off Hajime so he'd... let his guard down, he supposed? Get angry and make a mistake? How dare that beast touch him? It sounded like they'd got positively cosy. He wasn't sure how he felt about his own body being held in Komaeda's arms. Despite trying to treat everyone kindly, he hadn't totally forgiven the guy for... well, all that stuff in there. Plus, he got weird feelings when he saw him smile.

"Anyway. As I said, things need to change." Damn Komaeda anyway, falling for... well, tears and begging did sound effective. That thing had all the same talents Hajime did. Acting, analysis. It was no wonder someone like Komaeda... what was he saying? "...propose is something like this. Izuru needs an advocate. If you're not able to talk to him directly, which I still think would be the best option, then I'll volunteer for the role. What's that look about? You don't think I can handle him?"

"No," said Hajime simply.

"Well then, we'll have to agree to disagree on that point, Hinata-kun, because nobody else on this island is capable or, I expect, willing."

"You can't just decide--"

Komaeda rolled his eyes. "Oh, forgive me for my presumption. When your current management strategy is working out so well." Well, damn. He was starting to miss the obsequious Komaeda from the sim, the one who would constantly praise and support him, instead of...

Wait, no! That was wrong! That was Evil Hajime again! He wasn't that person any more. He refused to be. Dammit, keeping that beast contained was what this was all about! He must never hurt anyone again, couldn't Komaeda understand--

"So." Komaeda nodded to himself and tapped his fingertips together as if everything was nice and decided. "I'll keep a look out and the next time I see him, hopefully when he's not so distressed, I'll talk to him. So you can leave me any questions you have, or constructive suggestions you want me to pass on. And perhaps there is some way to let the two of you talk. Who knows? It'd be quite the stroke of luck, huh?" Komaeda smiled and Hajime forgot all the excellent arguments he'd been about to make.

"I still think this is a terrible idea," he grumbled.

"All yours are worse," Komaeda said simply, and got up from the table. "Don't worry so much, Hinata-kun. You've built this up in your head into something horrific, but you should have more hope. My poor Izuru is nothing like what you're afraid of."

My?!? Izuru?!?!!

"I'll leave you to finish your breakfast in peace. You should clean that up before it stains." Komaeda, that infuriating bastard, tucked his chair neatly back into place and left, having ruined Hajime's day very effectively.

He collected up the scattered remains of his meal and went to make a big hot chocolate. He felt like needed it, after all that.

[suitov]

Nagito Komaeda Milkshake Recipe (Revised)

Place in a blender:

Strawberries (whole, with leaves)

Milk

Dash of cornflour, to thicken

Blend all ingredients while giggling a little.

Pour into glass or serve to your Izuru directly from blender jug.

[suitov]

"What'm I supposed to do with this?" He was used to waking up to the bed forts, the neatly flattened snack cake wrappers (how had his dark side acquired such a sweet tooth?), even the drawings and sculptures that cropped up from time to time.

This was a full-sized painting. Of Hajime. Smiling. It even had its own driftwood frame.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" said Komaeda. "Such talent. When he asked me for some of Koizumi-san's photos, who knew such shining hope would result?"

"Komae--" Hajime waved his arms around. "It's a picture of me! How am I supposed to explain that? I'll look so egotistical!"

Komaeda thumbed his chin. "Self-portraiture is a perfectly legitimate art form. For example, Van Gogh once..."

"But he's, he's-- he's made me look cute!"

Komaeda half-turned away and coughed suddenly.

"You know what I mean! He's drawn me all... all nice, and he left out all the scars!"

"He doesn't like to be in pictures."

"I'll look," Hajime reiterated, "like I'm completely up myself."

"Well, how about this?" ...He'd never admit it, but when Komaeda used his 'reasonable' voice, Hajime did actually find himself calming down a little. Only a little! Ultimate Statistician would call it a margin of error. "I'll keep the painting in my cottage," Komaeda offered. "Then you can tell anyone who asks that you painted it at my request. They can't find me any more weird, and your reputation as the island's number one beloved heartthrob will stay intact!"

"You'd do that?" He physically felt his shoulders settle down and his forehead uncrease. Margin of error. But still! "Thanks, Komaeda. Not about the throbbing part, that's weird, nobody sees me that way... but I appreciate you always finding solutions. Do you even have room in your place, with all those bookshelves?"

"I'll squeeze it in somewhere," said Komaeda brightly.

"I mean it." Hajime gave him a smile -- though not as incandescent as Izuru had depicted it, the freak. "You put yourself out so often for us and he, he probably doesn't thank you enough, so, y'know. I appreciate it."

Komaeda's returned smile... well, that one could have rivalled the portrait, possibly. "It's no bother at all," he said.

If he was lying, Hajime appreciated it, but he didn't sound like he was.