They Stand in Ruin
For @notcoolhajime
Summary: Hinata and Komaeda are sent to the remains of a long emptied city for a couple of missions. Things don't go well, and Komaeda ends up wondering about the validity of it all. And of himself. And of his relationship with the guy too stubborn to give up on him.
Rating: T
Warnings: Violent imagery and hinted trauma.
Notes: Post-sdr2 fics never get old because I am a simple girl of simple needs. This fic I tried to focus more on atmosphere and underlying tension, although that’s the kind of stuff I favor anyway? But yeah, this was a little rough figuring out, but I think it turned out at least okay. Please enjoy, Junee. ;v;
***Alternate Ao3 Link***
Commission? Donate?
The metal was almost charred to a crisp, the stench of ash and smoke near suffocating.
“Some parts could still be salvageable,” Hinata suggested ever blankly. Komaeda wasn’t sure if he should laugh or scream in response, and he just settled for a polite nod.
“If anyone could salvage anything from this, it’ll be Souda-kun,” he said simply. “So let’s just gather what we can and mission complete. You won’t have to worry about me again for the time being.”
When Hinata Hajime met his gaze, his stare was exasperated but unyielding, that dark adorable brow furrowed.
“Right,” Komaeda said, allowing himself the smallest chuckle. “The remains must still be quite hot. Let’s wait for it to cool off.”
“Right...”
Hinata drew the word out between his teeth, like he wasn’t quite sure about it. Continuing to smile, Komaeda wisely chose not to comment. Instead, he stared at the tendrils of smoke, entwining before dissipating as they reached the pale blue sky. It was getting pretty clouded, and Komaeda could almost taste the upcoming rain on the air. Being rained on after such a disaster of a mission would just be the cherry on top.
And exactly what he deserved for being so arrogant as to think he could handle something so simple as the retrieval of important machinery. Even if something could be salvaged, it was clear this mission was an abject failure. Because of him. And his worthless, wretched luck.
“Aha,” he inhales sharply, covering his mouth to muffle any further giggles. “I’m sorry, Hinata-kun.”
“It’s not your fault,” Hinata replies immediately, as if on instinct. It’s the expected response to give someone in a situation like this. Komaeda’s heard it countless times, and it never rang less hollow, even in Hinata Hajime’s voice.
He wants to laugh until he wheezes, but instead he coughs a few times. He swallows, rubbing his throat with a sigh and notes that Hinata had drawn closer, hand hovering towards Komaeda as if poised to act. Just in case.
Komaeda’s smile widens as that hand drops, Hinata averting his gaze almost shamefully.
“...it’s not your fault,” Hinata repeats so lamely that it’s pitiful. Komaeda almost feels sorry for him. How funny. How stupid.
Thunder rumbles in the distance, and there’s a jagged flash that lights up the sky.
“It’ll definitely storm,” Komaeda says cheerily at the sight. “I guess we should get shelter pretty soon. While I’ll be fine, I worry about you being struck by lightning, Hinata-kun.”
“I guess that’d be one way to wake up Kamukura Izuru,” Hinata mutters, rubbing idly at his scars. Komaeda’s expression didn’t change, instead he just turned on his heel.
“Let’s just hurry.”
“Uh... Right.”
Irritably, Komaeda’s foot dug into the dirt.
--
They gathered up some bits of roasted metal and wiring and had it carried back to headquarters. But because they still had more scouting to do, they weren’t allowed to leave. Instead the storm rumbled, and the two of them took shelter in a broken down office building.
“I wonder if my parents worked in a space like this,” Komaeda remarks, almost idly. The place wasn’t completely trashed, some office corners had remained in the state they were before the disaster; it was just completely abandoned. There were some crude crayon drawings taped to desks, torn and crinkled with age. Komaeda hummed before wrapping his arms tighter around his knees. “What about yours, Hinata-kun?”
“I don’t really know,” Hinata replied. “Actually, I don’t even remember.”
“How boring!” Even though I have no room to talk. “Hey. Do you think you would’ve ended up here as a faceless worker if you never agreed to the project and if the world never fell apart?”
“Probably.” Hinata doesn’t even miss a beat although his expression dulled further. “What about you? If you didn’t have your luck and if the world never fell apart...”
“Probably the same,” Komaeda said, almost wistfully. “But even without the pressure and the people—this place is suffocating.”
It was also gloomy and dreary, and he doubted that would change with the lights flicked on and everything fixed up. There was a rustling chill, perhaps from the storm outside, and Komaeda shivered.
The thunder boomed and for a single childish moment, Komaeda wanted to cover his ears.
“Komaeda?”
He doesn’t respond, instead squeezing his eyes shut. Words don’t run through his mind so much as fuzz and static. Crackling and popping to the point where it felt like his very skull was bubbling. There was a low droning buzz, one that caused his head to throb.
The sky crashes, and Komaeda nearly jumps when his shoulders are suddenly gripped.
“E-Easy, easy!” Hinata yelped, and while Komaeda did initially still, his face also twisted into a vicious scowl. All Hinata offered in return was a grimace. “I was just checking on you.”
“I’m fine,” Komaeda hissed, shoving at him with the robotic hand. Even with the sturdy metal, Hinata’s form was unyielding as ever. Komaeda wanted to laugh but he also wanted to scream.
“You don’t look fine,” was Hinata Hajime’s ever clever retort.
Why? Because I don’t feel like smiling?
That was probably exactly it. Thankfully, smiling can come as easily to him as breathing, even when he doesn’t feel like it. The corner of his lips curl upwards.
“I’m fine,” he said again.
“Liar.”
It’s as if you want to make this difficult. How unfortunate.
“You’re awful,” he said sweetly. “Shouldn’t you read the mood? Or do you just not care because you’re awful?”
“If I didn’t care I wouldn’t ask.” Hinata’s eyes narrowed sharply. “You’re the one being unnecessarily difficult.”
Unnecessarily. What a truly dull word to use.
“You’re being pushy.”
“Maybe so.” At least you admit it? “Still that’s only because I... I worry about you.”
There’s a strange delay in the admission. Komaeda quirks an eyebrow at the even stranger rise of color in Hinata’s cheeks. Hinata averts his gaze but he’s still so shamefully expressive. So terrible at lies and obfuscation. So easy to read.
I always adored that about him, Komaeda thought bitterly.
And now?
“Someone like you shouldn’t worry about someone like me.”
“And yet I do,” Hinata snapped. “Sorry. Neither of us can do anything about that.”
“Not like you would try to,” Komaeda replied, smiling blankly. “You’re much too kind, Hinata-kun.”
“I’m not that kind. I’m not so kind that I’d worry about just anyone.” Chewing his lip, Hinata’s features pinched and twisted in a way that was almost as engrossing as it was unpleasant. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Oh.” Komaeda chuckled softly. “Is it?”
To that, Hinata just gave a small but firm nod.
What’s on your mind?
He’s wondered that often, especially recently. There were times where he’d imagine Kamukura Izuru, the long black tendrils of hair twisting around Hinata’s neck. The striking bone white of his head scars leaking black and blood. Even now, Komaeda fingers his own scars, long hidden by his hair and there is a dull ache in his skull.
Unlike Hinata Hajime who filled his head with talent and the world, for Komaeda there was nothing but a spreading rot, a desolate place. A ruined land that would only lead to further decay until it all crumbled into dust and ash. Even now, Komaeda is tempted to set himself on fire to at least go out in a blaze even if it’s not one of glory.
No, he’s long given up on becoming a beacon. Someone like him really was best suited to an uneventful passing, something mundane like a heart attack or pneumonia. That he survived this long really was a joke.
Especially in such a state, Komaeda thought, curling his mechanical fingers and listening to the whirls and twitches.
Hinata is looking at him too, hazel and crimson both dark and unreadable. It’s uncomfortable. So much so that Komaeda wants to throw a rock at him. He would’ve if not for Hinata’s head jerking away.
It’s infuriating.
Komaeda stands up. Thunder booms. The wind is whistling. Komaeda turns his sights to outside, where the fog is only briefly alit by a lightning strike.
Without thinking, he strides forward. Before he can even feel the damp rush of air from the cracks in the windows and walls, a powerful grip yanks him back.
“What the hell are you doing?” Hinata hisses, and his arms wind around Komaeda like a snake. Like rope, binding him and keeping him trapped. “You’re not going out there, I don’t care what suicidal wish you have!”
“I wouldn’t die,” Komaeda snapped, glaring at him as if he were stupid. “The opposite, in fact. I just wanted to feel alive.”
“Even if you didn’t die, you would at least get injured,” Hinata huffed. “Be it from debris or even the wind knocking you down.”
Komaeda reddened in anger at the thought of being seen as so weak.
“It will take a while for it to calm down,” Hinata just went on. “Be patient. If you’re that bored, we... we can just talk.”
“What is there to even talk about?” You already know everything—so anything I say would be boring. “The weather, perhaps? It is quite windy. Quite rainy. Quite stormy. Isn’t that fascinating?”
“You don’t need to be that sarcastic.” Hinata frowns at him, but his grip doesn’t lighten. It’s annoying—the dissonance between that wilting dismay and that unforgivingly constricted hold.
Komaeda sighs and presses his very aggravated pout into Hinata Hajime’s shoulder.
“You’re insufferable. Incorrigible. And just—irredeemably ignorant.”
“Sorry.”
It’s a low mutter, so quiet that sincerity was difficult to gauge. But Hinata does lift a hand and cups the back of his skull. As if the rotten thing were precious. It’s frustrating to the point of tears.
“Komaeda, you know I...don’t hate you, right?”
“I wish you did,” Komaeda whispered. “It would be so much easier and simpler if you just hated me like everyone else.”
“The others don’t—hate you either.” Hinata sucked in his breath. “They’re just—not sure how to approach you. In their defense, you don’t make that easy.”
“It’s easier that way,” he insisted. “With my luck being the way it is, and with myself being as lowly as I am.”
“Still, that...” Fingers start to weave through his hair. “Wouldn’t it be better if we all reached an understanding?”
Komaeda was so exhausted by this that he slumped. Hinata kept him upright.
“I would still like to understand you,” Hinata murmurs, tentative. “Especially since I know you’re not a bad person. You’re still the one who reached out to me in the beginning.”
Of course I remember that. The ocean waves. The shimmering sun. The beautiful unknown boy on the beach.
“Just shut up,” Komaeda griped tiredly.
To his credit, he had. He also continued to hold him even as Komaeda’s eyes squeezed shut.
--
They gathered up the remains of the Monokuma unit. The metals were now burnt, rusted, and even more twisted thanks to the storm. To salvage anything from this would take a miracle and Komaeda severely doubted the former Ultimate Mechanic was capable of even that.
But, they packed up the material, and their hands were left dirtied. The other agents left with that, leaving them behind without another word.
Komaeda watches them go, picking at the smudge beneath his nails.
“Ah, Komaeda, you didn’t have to...” Hinata trails off as he takes his right hand. His brow furrows as he feels out blisters. “Mmgh.”
Hinata-kun’s own hands are warm but firm, Komaeda thinks dully. Undeniably strong and yet gentle. It’s unsettling.
“Even someone like me can handle a little bit of heavy work,” he says with a shrug. “Really, you expect me to collapse just from that?”
“Not collapse, no,” Hinata mutters, squeezing his hand. “Your metal arm can sustain two tons, but it’s still attached to your shoulder, which I can’t say the same for.”
“Like stitching gold into rags,” Komaeda chirped. “Of course, there are other uses for it.”
“Yeah.” With a frown, Hinata suddenly pinches his cheek. “So that’s a terrible comparison.”
“A-Ah! Haha! Sorry, sorry! Please don’t pull so hard!”
Hinata lets go, but he’s still unimpressed. Specifically, he let go of his cheek—but not of his hand.
Komaeda’s pitiful smile strains and twists, and he tugs his hand back. Hinata does release it, then, and he blushes quite darkly.
“I...” Biting his tongue, Hinata made a complicated noise. “We should probably get going. We still have more surveying to do.”
“Yes,” Komaeda agreed cheerily. “We do.”
--
The Future Foundation had long evacuated everyone they could find and as a result, what remained was ruined, abandoned buildings, and the occasional malfunctioning if not outright collapsed Monokuma unit. There were other locations the Future Foundation was focused on right now, but Komaeda predicted that it would only take a few years for this city to be rebuilt and repopulated.
As it stood, it was vacant and eerie. Still in rubble, no electricity, and thoroughly ransacked for supplies.
“Some of the buildings are unstable,” Hinata remarked. “So stay close, Komaeda.”
Komaeda half-listened, staring up at the dull gray sky.
“There was this series I read once,” Komaeda found himself saying. “About someone who could leap through space.”
“So teleportation?” Hinata asked wryly. “That’s a pretty convenient superpower.”
Kamukura-kun could move so quickly that it was akin to that, Komaeda recalled as he stepped around the broken-off corner of a building. But that wasn’t the same thing, because—
“What do you think is the line between time and space?” Komaeda wondered. “If you could move to any space instantaneously, then would you theoretically be able to leap forward in time?”
Hinata pauses, mulling it over, and Komaeda wonders if Kamukura Izuru is already supplying the answer. Before Hinata can open his mouth, Komaeda went on.
“The person who could teleport believed that they could, and thus they took that leap,” he said. “It was risky, of course, for you can never be sure what will occur in the space you occupy in a different point of time. And you can never be sure—what exactly will happen in the future. When that person traveled far enough, they found they stood in ruins, surrounded by the corpses of people they found dear.”
“Ah,” Hinata intoned. “One of those stories.”
“I like time travel stories,” Komaeda said quietly. “I enjoy time loops, where someone tries to prevent tragedy, tries to right wrongs so that the world stays in-tact. That determination, that desperation to overcome despair is beautiful.”
Of course...
“They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results,” Hinata said. His voice was low, monotonous, and for a moment, Komaeda had a flash of walking side-by-side with someone impossible like this, with long, swaying black hair under a sky as red as his hollow gaze.
Komaeda punches his shoulder with a poorly curled fist, and he can almost taste blood brimming from where he bit too hard into his lower lip. Hinata wasn’t affected by the former, but because of the latter, he stilled immediately, scowling as he turned.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” he snapped, pinching Komaeda’s cheek again. “How many times do people have to say it?”
Aha. You sound like Matsuda-kun.
“It’s because you’re so frustrating,” Komaeda chirped right back. “It’s so maddening that I want to bash my head in.”
“Then just talk to me!” Hinata’s voice rose exponentially. “You can even yell at me if you want!”
Saying that...while shouting... You really are an aggravating person.
“I don’t really want to talk,” he said. “It’s exhausting. Aha, of course saying that is hypocritical, right? I’m sure you find me plenty exhausting. But it’s not like I asked you to tolerate me.”
“No,” Hinata conceded, letting go of him. “I chose to because I want things to get better between us.”
Between us.
What was between them now was cold dust, easily swept away by a colder breeze. What surrounded them was the remains of a once ordinary city. A place that likely hadn’t been anything remarkable even in its prime. Komaeda only barely remembers its name.
“How mature,” he muttered. “As befitting an Ultimate Hope, I suppose.”
He almost wants to puff out his cheeks. Throw another temper tantrum. He wonders if doing so will cause Hinata to lose patience and strike him.
It’d be easier that way.
If Hinata just hit him.
What kind of face would you make? I—whatever it is, it would surely be better than the one you have right now.
He breathes in dust and decay and rubs his cheek and mouth idly. There’s a slight throb, but it might just be a headache. He’s tired. Very tired.
“Do you want to take a break?” Hinata asks, brow pinching. “Maybe we can set up camp for the day?”
“I feel like barely anything was accomplished,” Komaeda sighed. “Is that really alright?”
“It’s because of the storm,” Hinata responds as if on autopilot. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s take a break. Maybe get some sleep. I doubt anything will change between now and tomorrow.”
Komaeda doubts it as well, but he still hesitates.
“The mission will take even longer,” he said. “Is that alright?”
Hinata nodded.
“Of course it is.”
Of course.
Of...course.
“Alright,” Komaeda repeated, nearly biting his tongue on the word. “Then, I guess I can’t argue too much. Let’s resume work tomorrow, aha. Haha.”
It makes no difference to me. Not at all.
--
They retreat inside an old school campus of all things because it was the easiest place to set up the tent. After all, who knows what could be crawling around? Thinking of it like that, it felt almost adventurous.
Nibbling on rations as he watched Hinata lay out their sleeping bags, Komaeda tried not to grimace at how close the two bags were. There was enough space, but Hinata was probably paranoid. Komaeda can’t exactly blame him for that, even if it must be unpleasant.
That said—Hinata looked warm cast in the light of the lantern, the shadows sharp in contrast. More so when Hinata did smile in his direction, albeit absently.
“You got any bedtime stories?” Hinata’s smile twisted, eyebrow raising. “Or am I just supposed to come up with one myself?”
Komaeda popped the rest of the ration into his mouth before closing the container.
“We’re not children,” he said, chewing before swallowing. “Unless you insist on needing one? What would you like to hear? The Crane’s Wife?”
“Anything happier?”
“Orpheus and Eurydice?”
“I said happier.”
Komaeda set the rations aside and crawled into the sleeping bag.
“There was a story about an unremarkable boy with no talent. Then he met a fairy who granted him all the world’s talent. That boy then saved the world. Happy enough for you?”
“What kind of nonsense is that?” Hinata asked, poking Komaeda’s shoulder as he turned away stubbornly. “Things didn’t even turn out that way.”
“Hence why it’s a story,” Komaeda sighed. The sleeping bag was cold enough that he ended up shivering, but even his meager body heat was sure to provide warmth after a while. “They’re fictional. Made up. They don’t have to make sense.”
“That’s wrong,” Hinata said, the words cutting through with the same force as in a trial, even in what was a low murmur. “It’s reality that doesn’t have to make sense. Fiction meanwhile should follow some level of logic.”
“Is that your Ultimate Analyst side talking?” He doesn’t keep the quiet venom out of his voice. “That’s a limited way of viewing things. It’s annoying. You’re annoying. Tell yourself a story, then. I’m going to sleep even though it’s going to be difficult because you annoyed me so much. I hope you’re happy.”
“Who can be happy in a situation like this?”
Who, indeed? If even the Ultimate Everything can’t answer—I guess it’s a question you just aren’t meant to ask.
How annoying.
Komaeda squeezed his eyes shut. All was quiet when it was dark. Hinata didn’t make a noise and all that could be sensed was the plushness encasing him. It was like nothing else existed save for his own heartbeat.
Although remembering that Hinata-kun is here is a little nerve-wracking.
Still he managed to relax. He had done so under worse circumstances, and he could do so now.
It doesn’t...matter...
He’s exhausted.
--
The world is vibrant and even with the sun shining overhead in the center of a sea of soft blue, there’s a nice feel and temperature. The sand is plush beneath his feet, and he giggles as he skips, bumping shoulders with Hinata Hajime.
Hinata Hajime, who gives him such a warm smile that the very sun above was stricken. Komaeda’s vision blurs, but he beams back without a care.
He stretches out his hand to brush his fingers against Hinata’s, but he’s far too shy to entangle them.
Still, he’s happy. Definitely happy. To be out here with a friend is more than he can ask for.
Yes, a friend—Hinata-kun’s my friend...
The thought makes him so giddy that he wants to cup his rosy cheeks with a laugh. That Hinata chuckles softly nearly makes him shudder with euphoria.
“Hey, Hinata-kun... I...”
Throb.
Suddenly he stumbles and crumbles into the sand. It happens in slow motion, and almost distantly like he’s observing from a screen. It doesn’t hurt, but—but his thighs are streaked with blood. So much so that the soft sand is clumping into dark goop.
Hinata Hajime doesn’t break his stride.
“H-Hinata-kun,” Komaeda hears himself stammer as he reaches out towards him. “H-Hey...wait up...”
Focused on Hinata’s blurring figure, he almost doesn’t notice his hand being pierced through. The splatter of blood spreads until it consumes his hand. Before his eyes, that hand morphs, the fingers warping and twisting, the blood-dyed nails elongating.
Hinata does pause, when he’s little more than a semi-defined shadow. That shadow, too, warps and twists. Tendrils of black that then lurch towards him and wrap tightly around his neck.
“H-Hi...nata...kun?”
His own voice is fading along with everything else. Disintegrating, melting, his body is being torn to shreds from the center. Everything is slick with blood and muck.
Filthy.
Filthy.
His body was decaying, eating itself the way he always knew the cancer and dementia would. His throat is being ripped open and gorged. He’s losing all sense of awareness.
How gross—
“How boring,” is the quiet remark as Komaeda Nagito is turned to ash and muck.
--
He only somewhat wakes, but there is a sound. A melodic sound so sweet and serene that he very nearly lulls back to sleep. He groans softly, and gentle fingers stroke his hair back.
He’s barely awake. What he does register, he does so detachedly. Like this was still all a dream.
“Mmhm...” The sound trails off into a hum. “Komaeda? You were having a nightmare.”
His sense of conscious feels like a complete fog. He’s too blurry-headed to even muster up speech.
“Ah. Still dazed. Is that because of my...?” An irritated mutter, too low to be comprehensible. And then, in a clearer tone. “Sorry about that. You should go back to sleep, though. You need all the rest you can get.”
His eyes begin to droop.
“Can you even hear me...? Ah. Never mind that. You’re probably real tired.”
I am tired, he thinks agreeably.
“...you might not remember this later or even be listening, but...”
So tired...
“You know... You really are important to me, Komaeda.”
That gentle hand moves to cup his cheek, radiating a seductive warmth. Komaeda nuzzles into it without a second thought, sighing contentedly as he does.
“Even though you purposefully make things difficult—you are trying your best. If you had just wanted to sleep the rest of your days away, I don’t think anyone would blame you, but—you get up every morning and you take it all so seriously. I can’t believe I never appreciated that until now. Well, I can, considering the circumstances of before—but it’s still embarrassing to think.”
A thumb runs over his lower lip. Gentle. So gentle. It’s such a pleasant touch. It’s comforting. Alluring.
“Everything’s different. I want us to be close. I...really, really like you. So much. More than I should, probably.”
His vision is blurring, but he can tell that someone is close. Getting closer. Forehead pressed against his. Soft puffs against his lips.
“Komaeda... Nagito... I want...”
Then. A pause. Komaeda’s eyes fall fully shut.
“...god, what the hell am I doing...? I’m sorry.”
His hair is ruffled. Komaeda tumbles back into sleep soon after.
“I’m so sorry, Nagito.”
He falls into a dreamless sleep.
--
Everything is much clearer in the time he wakes. So much so that his heart nearly leaps into his throat when his eyes snap open.
That was—
It felt distant and foggy. Like another dream. Except—it hadn’t been a dream. It just felt like one. So much so that if his mind wandered enough, he’d easily forget all about it.
He’d forget. Easily.
...
Back in the simulation, one of the things Hinata gave him was a used memory journal. It was worn and withered, the smudged writing impossible to read. But he had adored it, every scribble in it. He even carefully wrote in it, wrote about his hopes and dreams, in shaky script that fit right in.
After he read the student files—
...
Ah. Does that part matter?
I’ll forget either way.
Komaeda pushed himself up, looking around the tent. It was illuminated by morning light shining through. The other sleeping bag laid there beside him, flat and unruffled as if it had never been used at all. Their bags still sat in the corner next to the lantern. Somehow despite having the whole space to himself, it was almost—suffocating.
Komaeda wiggled out of his sleeping back and slipped on his shoes before unzipping the entrance and crawling out. With the clouded sky in addition to the early hour, it wasn’t terribly bright just yet, but he flinches at it anyway.
There’s hard concrete under his feet rather than soft sand, but he still stumbles. His eyes find themselves locked on the cracks to help himself focus on something, anything. Cracks running deep, some with grass growing through—and a couple of flowers. Pure white daisies, small and easily trampled, growing in stubborn little clusters.
Flowers, huh? Even...in a place like this...
“Ah... Haha... Ahaha...” He covers his mouth, shoulders quivering. “E-Even in a place like this.”
He’s not going to tear up over something so—so small. But his eyes do burn a little, and he wipes at them furiously. Even when shut tight, the morning sun shines through, and when Komaeda does look, his gaze is immediately captured by the figure standing upright and steadfast in the dusty air.
Komaeda approaches, almost tentatively, self-conscious of his heart pounding in his ears, but still tempted by the other’s back. Those strong, locked shoulders, the defined blades, and how if he ducked against this person, he might be safer from the world than he’s ever been.
He does fantasize about it, embracing Hinata Hajime’s solid warmth, but he ends up stopping several steps shy of even being able to reach out and touch the other.
Because... I...
“Komaeda,” Hinata says, without looking at him, even as Komaeda perked up helplessly. “Did you sleep well?”
“I...” He nods, but chokes out the answer anyway. “Yes.”
“That’s good,” Hinata replies. “But are you sure you don’t want to rest a little more?”
I’m going to forget everything anyway. Hinata-kun must know that—that it would be better for him to move on without me. As if I don’t burden him so much already.
“Hinata-kun...” Trailing off, Komaeda nearly bites his tongue. Swallowing back bitterness and even some resentment, he pushed onwards. “I...have been acting immaturely lately.”
“You’re still young,” Hinata remarked and a strange smile twists at the corner of his lips. “I get it. It’s fine. I forgive you.”
“Someone like you won’t ever be forgiven,” he was told in the past, by himself and by others. But of course the penguin that could fly would tell him otherwise.
It’s ridiculous, but that ridiculousness, that audacity... I do still cherish it.
“Hinata-kun.” His own smile twitches on his face. “I...”
But I can’t just say any of that.
“I’m sorry...for my attitude.” He can say this much, at least. “I really do think things would be easier if you hated me, but—you’re just so stubborn...and eccentric, and I... I don’t want to hurt you. That’s why I...”
I’ve come across quite a dilemma.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever understand you and your feelings, and I’m not exactly used to being understood either,” he went on quietly. Hinata would still hear him, no matter how soft the words. “But maybe it would be better if we...reconciled, at least. If you knew that, at least, I don’t hate you either. In fact I...like you a lot...”
Hinata was quiet, but when he turned to face him, Komaeda was left breathless at the sight of that tired, warm smile.
God, if I could be killed right now...
“I already...” Hinata seems to think better of what he was about to say, so he just shakes his head and widens that smile. “I’m glad to hear it. Komaeda, I...”
“If you say it, I’ll definitely die,” Komaeda cut in seriously. “So, please, don’t. I-It’s taking a lot of courage just for me to be mature and upfront... I’ll definitely fall apart if you push it further, Hinata Hajime.”
Hinata does still, but he nodded.
“Got’cha. I won’t say it, then. Not now, at least. I’ll wait for when you’ll tell me it’s alright.”
When it’ll be alright—I wonder when that will be.
Right now, they stand in ruined shambles, but it won’t be that way forever. The world is getting rebuilt, the clouds dispersing, and lives are somehow, someway, being pieced back together. It might take decades, maybe even a century, and Komaeda’s positive that he won’t live to see it, but—
Maybe he will. He’ll just have to wait and see. For that—and for the time it’ll be alright to hear the words.
“Until then,” he said, still hesitant. “Let’s do our best to work together, Hinata-kun.”
Hinata sticks out his hand. Hinata’s smile is broad, and there’s a glimmer in his gaze. He thinks of Kamukura Izuru still lurking in those depths—but it’s Hinata Hajime who smiles at him, who is looking at him.
He tentatively takes Hinata’s hand, squeezes and shakes it.
“F-Friends?” he just barely chokes out over the sound of his pounding heartbeat.
“Friends,” Hinata agrees so easily that Komaeda could’ve shattered then and there.
I will forget this too, but...until it rots away or falls completely apart, I’m going to cling to this with everything I have. No matter how much it hurts and strains. That’s how—I know I’m still alive.
“Instead of just going to finish up scouting, can we rest for a little while longer?” he finds himself asking, tugging at Hinata’s hand. “Hinata-kun?”
“Uh...” Hinata does stumble a bit, regaining his balance even as his cheeks color. “Y-Yeah. That’s...fine.”
“Did you even sleep?” Komaeda frowned, quirking an eyebrow. “I wonder. If not, you should count yourself lucky that you have a concerned friend to make sure you do.”
Hinata burst out laughing. Komaeda, too, felt his face burn with red hot intensity.
“I’m lucky, yeah!” Hinata snickers, wiping at his eyes. “Real lucky. I could use more rest. You’re right.”
“Of course I am.”
He did huff snootily as he dragged Hinata back to the tent. Hinata laid down, sighing contentedly as he did, relaxing more so as Komaeda rubbed his shoulder.
“I...really am lucky...” Hinata yawns. “I’m lucky that you’re still here.”
“If you say too much, my heart definitely won’t be able to take it,” Komaeda muttered. “But I guess I should be grateful.”
“Mm...” Hinata dozes. “Na...gito...”
It doesn’t take much longer for Hinata to fall asleep.
Komaeda sighs in return, ruffling the other’s hair tenderly.
“Hajime.”