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“But isn’t it weird?” was the first thing Hinata heard Souda say to Kuzuryuu. He was agonizing over something again; Hinata could tell, because his voice was reaching a high, creaky pitch. As Hinata drew closer to the table the two were sharing in the cafeteria, he could see Souda nervously tapping his knuckles against the table, which added another dimension to the overall image of distress. Knowing Souda, it was a grievance that listening to would probably leave Hinata feeling even more exhausted than he already was. Hinata had decided to exit before anyone could notice him when Souda’s next sentence made him abruptly change his mind.
“I mean, it’s him," said Souda.
Izuru’s deductive abilities were a blessing when Hinata needed them, and judging by the slight dread mixed with aversion in Souda’s voice, Hinata knew there were at least three or four people Souda could be referring to. But right then, he decided to operate more on hunch– a tried-and-true method that the old Hinata had always found to be helpful. And Izuru’s skill be damned- if Hinata’s hunch was right, then this was probably something he needed to hear out.
So–
“Is what weird?” Hinata said as he slid into a seat next to Kuzuryuu. The two turned to him and Hinata couldn’t help but notice the slight deference to him they both displayed– Souda’s slightly straightened posture, Kuzuryuu’s nod of respect. He was still getting accustomed to it. Izuru expected admiration, but to Hinata, being a leader was new.
“Komaeda,” said Souda. Hunch confirmed. He pointed a fork at Hinata to illustrate his point and then sheepishly lowered it when Hinata raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you noticed he’s always hanging out with the girls now? It’s like they accepted him into their girl-world. How’d he do it? I mean, it’s Komaeda!”
Of course Hinata had noticed. Those days, he tended to notice most everything Komaeda did. The reasons for this were something Hinata had already decided were a combination of Izuru’s tempered curiosity and Hinata’s general stubbornness. Hinata had never been able to understand Komaeda, and Izuru had never bothered to. Now, as someone who represented both sides of the complicated coin that was Hinata-Izuru-Whoever-The-Fuck, he found himself inclined to try again.
This was also probably why he kept letting Komaeda into his cottage. Sometimes arrogant, occasionally deferent, and always inscrutable– that was the company Hinata had chosen to keep on an island full of less fucked-up people, none of whom were in danger of dying this time, at least for the time being. Maybe he had a masochistic streak he’d never fully examined. He’d have to ask the Future Foundation psychiatrist assigned to him on their next webcam session.
“Forget that," Kuzuryuu muttered, drawing Hinata’s attention back to the conversation. He picked at his food. “Is it... dangerous, to let him be around them? Is that something we should still be worried about?”
“Well, I’m a forgive-and-forget kind of guy–”
“Are you, though?” Kuzuryuu said.
Souda ignored him. “–but I can’t just overlook what he did. In the program.”
A silence fell over the table. It wasn’t often that any of the more gruesome happenings in the simulation were discussed– Hinata knew, for example, that Mahiru and Peko still tiptoed around each other and tended to be abnormally polite when they did speak. It felt strange, but most things felt unreal now. There would be no returning to any “way things were”, when the way things were had always been tense at best and murderous at worst. It would take time to carve out a new existence, free of Junko’s presence and influence.
“It’s fine,” Hinata said, breaking free of his thoughts and from the silence. “He’s teaching Sonia how to play cards, and Mikan’s showing him the basics of first-aid. Akane mostly thinks he’s funny now, I think, in a weird way. They’re just having fun.”
“Wha? He’s fallen for all of them? How can we just–”
“You’re kidding, right?” Kuzuryuu grinned. “You really think he’s interested? There’s only one person he’s ever been into and it’s–” his eyes shifted to Hinata– “him.”
“Huh?” said Souda.
Hinata stood up easily. “I’m gonna go now. I’ll see you two around later.”
Souda and Kuzuryuu waved goodbye as Hinata made the trek back to his cottage. He could hear people shouting on the beach, and the waves, and Souda’s voice carrying– evidence of the new life they’d built. Silence in the simulation had always signified something sickening, and the noise now was calming.
They always left the doors of their cottages open, desperate for some sense of companionship. The need for camaraderie was so intense among them that Hinata wondered if it had led to any trysts. The thought didn’t interest him or Izuru very much.
Hinata had thought Komaeda interested Izuru, but now he supposed it was the combination of what had already been there and Izuru’s general lack of inhibitions that contributed towards his fixation, for lack of a better word. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to leave Komaeda alone. Not until he understood.
Most of the time, though, Komaeda seemed like a puzzle that didn’t want to be solved.
The door was open, but Hinata saw Komaeda in Hinata’s own cottage through the window first. It was unsurprising to see him there now. Instead of going in first, Hinata watched him for a while, because he allowed himself that indulgence. Komaeda was sitting on the carpet in a standard-issue Future Foundation T-shirt and baggy pants, hunched over a book with his chin resting on his folded-up knees. He wore an expression Hinata had come to associate, in the simulation, with dangerous cleverness, a warning sign during the trials. But now he just looked intent as he turned the pages. His hair was tied up, held in place with a million little bobby pins; Hiyoko had probably made him her model again.
Hinata walked into the room after another minute of watching Komaeda uncharacteristically at ease. Komaeda looked at him and smiled in greeting. “Should I leave?”
“No, I’m just resting,” Hinata said, and threw himself on his bed, turning to face the open window. After a while he looked back at Komaeda and was wholly unsurprised to see him returning the gaze.
“Souda’s frustrated by you getting close with the girls,” Hinata said conversationally.
Komaeda tilted his head. “Does it frustrate you?”
“I can’t say it does.”
“Not even a little bit?”
“If you’re asking me if I’m jealous, I think I know better.”
“Oh, I would never,” Komaeda said, smiling to himself and tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. He wasn’t looking at his book anymore, just gazing absently at the floor. “The girls are easy to be around. It’s surprising any of them accept me, don’t you think? But then, it’s fortunate anyone even lets me live on this island at all.”
“It wasn’t even a question in the first place,” Hinata said. Komaeda laughed shortly, sardonic.
After a moment passed and he still hadn’t returned to his book, Hinata spoke again. "What are you thinking about?" That was always an interesting question to ask Komaeda.
One side of Komaeda's mouth tugged upwards in a grin. "That's something you wouldn't have asked so readily, before."
"It's information you wouldn't have volunteered readily before, so just let me know if anything's changed," Hinata said, closing his eyes.
There was no answer for a minute, and Hinata was about to drift off to sleep before he felt the mattress settle at the end of the bed. He opened his eyes; Komaeda was sitting at the edge of the bed, carefully away from Hinata's feet. It was ridiculous, the charade, Hinata thought, annoyed, which was why when Komaeda asked quietly “Can I– " Hinata replied only "You know the answer to that."
"Hinata," said Komaeda sharply. "I need–”
Permission. "You can," Hinata answered then, and he could feel Komaeda sigh and relax, leaning against the wall.
Komaeda said nothing for a while. Talking to him was always a game of waiting for the silences to bubble over, for the words to bubble out in a stream.
"I wonder how you stand it," said Komaeda, without preamble, and Hinata blinked slowly.
"I can't help but wonder,” Komaeda said, picking up speed now. “How do you reconcile him and yourself? The mental strength required for such a–”
"It wasn't anything so difficult,” Hinata muttered. "We chose who we wanted to be.”
"But Kamukura was a failure," Komaeda said calmly, with an indulgent tone, like he was talking to a child, and it wasn't funny but Hinata had to bite his lip to keep from smirking. "They made him a symbol to represent all the future's hope. He chose her because–”
"Because I wanted to see what would happen," Hinata cut him off again, and Komaeda grew still. "Someone with no flaws stops being a person eventually. They just get bored. I got bored."
Komaeda turned, eyes narrowed. "How could it be that easy? Someone like me– of course it makes sense. That I was weak. Even for the rest of them to– she was powerful. Despair is powerful!” He paused, as if to spend a moment ruminating on the truth of his statement. “It’s terrible, but it makes sense. But he gave in when he had every reason not to. His very nature should have caused him not to. He should have-"
For the third time, Hinata interrupted. "He shouldn't have existed."
Komaeda said nothing. A breeze from the open door wafted through the room and turned the pages of his book, still lying on the carpet.
"Flaws don't make us who we are," he said, with certainty. "That’s where you’re wrong. Skills do. And the people without skill learn to compensate."
"Compensate," Hinata repeated, and watched him.
"Like Hajime Hinata and I," said Komaeda. "We found ways to get by."
Hinata didn't reply; Komaeda wasn't talking about him, just his ghost.
"I've been thinking about when you talked down Mitarai," said Komaeda, almost absently. It was another deceptive tactic, Hinata knew, engineered to make him seem offhand, casual, when Hinata knew no one else who believed so strongly in every word they said. "Hinata could have done that, too. Not you as you are now. I know he could have. That version of you was nothing, but you could have stopped him anyway."
"Well," said Hinata, "you have the backhanded compliment down pat, as always."
Komaeda smiled. "Don't be like that. You know there's nothing backhanded about it. I'm admiring your abilities, in all incarnations of yourself."
"So I could have stopped Mitarai even without Izuru helping out, is what you're saying."
"Mhm," said Komaeda in that strange flirty tone that agonized the Hinata of the simulation to no end. "My total belief in you is the strongest it's been for someone in a while, Hinata. You should appreciate it a little."
"Who'd you totally believe in before me?"
Komaeda grinned. "Izuru Kamukura."
"Well," Hinata said, gazing at the ceiling, "sorry to disappoint."
"You won't let me down this time," Komaeda said, certain. He leaned over Hinata suddenly, the wisps of untied hair falling away from his face, took Hinata’s hand with his mechanical one, and moved it to his heart.
"This is where Kamukura shot me,” Komaeda said, a little wistfully. “It was perfect."
"Haven’t we talked about this before?” Hinata muttered. "And I know you're a masochist, but–”
"No, I meant it was a perfect shot. As expected of him. I just–” he laughed. "I got lucky!"
"Yeah," Hinata said. "I remember. I was there."
Komaeda remained still, hovering over him, so Hinata got to indulge further, looked at the color of Komaeda's skin, which seems less corpse-pale and more alive, somehow, at his eyes intent on Hinata’s, calculating and inquisitive.
Hinata closed his eyes. “I didn’t get to sleep. Going to let me?”
“Of course,” Komaeda said, reluctantly. “I’ll–”
“You can stay here. Rest. You need it.”
Komaeda laughed his throaty laugh. “Do I look tired to you?”
“Yeah, I was just thinking you look terrible.”
“That’s cruel,” sighed Komaeda, but he settled down anyway, on top of the bedsheets. Hinata could hear his breathing even as Hinata fell asleep.