#I also have more Komaeda fics if you want em

[dansconcepts]

Everything's Coming Up Hajime

The following drabbles (they're little scenes of different things with some more detailed than others because a fic was too ambitious for me :'>>>) completely and wholly inspired by and dedicated to @gliittergelpens for their headcanon post on Hajime (found here) and also the connected follow up interaction here. Go check 'em out :D! And I hope you enjoy this :).

Bleary lights. Bright. Dreary. 

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

NO!

Bolt, bolted, he can’t move, why can’t he move? Everything’s not okay, why is he here again? Where are they? Get to the corner, get to the corner, he can’t move he can’t move!- (why is he prolonging the inevitable? He hasn’t done that in so long)

Pressure starts compounding on his chest. He shakes. He doesn’t want to go again, it’s going to be another round of tests again, he didn’t know he agreed to this! Let go, let go, let GO!

“Hajime.”

They never call him that. He is the subject, their project, the plaything to rip apart because he is nothing more than an experiment. He is not a person. He is not Hajime.

“Hajime.” They repeat. “It’s Makoto.”

Makoto?

He doesn’t recognize-

Makoto Naegi.

He blinks. His body slumps. As if his body was lead, his head slowly turns toward the source.

“Makoto Naegi” was never one of the researcher’s names. He knows, because he remembered each and every one, even if he didn’t want to. No, Makoto Naegi is someone else entirely, someone who isn’t associated with the Project. 

Sage-coloured irises meet his gaze first. They are warmer than any of the researchers’ eyes. 

…He isn’t in a lab, is he?

“Muh-” He winces. His voice sounds terrible. 

“Hey, drink up.” Makoto commands, not unkindly. “I know you’ve been in there for a while, but try your best.”

A glass of water is held to his lips and once they hit, his lips burn, but he downs it gratefully anyway. His throat protests in agony.

“Do you know where you are and what happened, Hajime?” 

Hajime stretches, pops coming from all his atrophied joints. “W-we- ugh, Jabberwock Island. K-cough-illing game.” The Killing Game. At the reminder, adrenaline starts coursing through him, and he immediately lurches out of the pod.

Makoto gently pushes him back.

“Yes. The other survivors are awake, but they do not hold the memories you do.”

“W-what about everyone else? What happened to them?”

“They’re still in the pods.” He tries jumping out again. “BUT!” Makoto blurts out. “BUT they’re okay. They’re not in the killing game right now. They seem to have created their own worlds-”

“What can I do to wake them up?” He quickly interrupts. 

“Oh, um, I was going to get to that part.” A small smile stretches on his face. “I knew you’d want to help. I would’ve been the same.” 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Darkness. 

He feels so tired.

He hasn’t felt this tired in… so long. Everything… is so tiring.

Lights threaten to blind him. 

No. 

Let him sleep.

Let him sleep…

“Hey, Nagito... it’s Hajime.” 

He stirs. Hajime?

He looks at the tanned skin, eyeing the scars on the undersides of his eyes, further littered over his arms, and then tracing back to his equally scarred lips, that were currently sipping on a cup in his hands.

“Ha-jime.” He croaks. Wordlessly, Hajime provides him some water. With weak hands, he reaches out toward the cup, and manages to squeeze enough of a firm grasp on it. Hajime continues sipping while he slowly gulps down the offered water. 

“Ahem,” He coughs. “Hinata, my apologies. …What happened?”

“You’re one of the last few to wake up, Komaeda.” Hajime replies, and notably, provides no context. “What do you remember?”

The question sparks his silence. His mouth purses into a deeply thin line. He eyes the man in front of him. Is there something he must have forgotten? “...Nothing particularly pleasant.” He decides on.

Hajime scrutinizes him. He stays quiet. Hajime slumps over with a sigh. “Okay, fair enough. Your pod opened, but you wouldn’t wake up. You’re in the hospital now.”

He looks around. Yes, he gathered that. The white walls and bright fluorescent lighting weren't foreign to him, he would recognize such a place no matter where he was. He could voice that, but there are more pressing concerns.

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand. How did I get here?”

“We went through a rehabilitation program.”

“Ah.” The memories are hitting him now. “Yes, sorry, I do remember us Remnants being captured for such a thing, although I don't remember much else.” He hums, looking the other up and down. “It worked, then?”

“That depends. How do you feel? About, you know, hope and despair and all that.”

“Well,” He chuckles, “if you’re worried I’m going to blow up this hospital in the pursuit of ‘a greater hope’, you would be greatly mistaken.”

Hajime breathes out a sigh of relief. “But I imagine my luck could affect that greatly. It's very fortunate you could balance it out.” The other gazes away from him, looking down in thought. How curious. Was it something he said?

He subtly tilts his head. The brunet covertly glances around, as if he was watching for something. Piercing eyes returns to meet his. “You can't get up to any crazy shit just because I can do that.” The other jokingly chastises, but his eyes remained guarded.

He nods with an smile. “Oh, I would never.” To anyone, it would simply be him teasing. However, he can tell Hajime's trying to hide something about his talents, and someone here is watching them. He wonders who would cause such paranoia.

Hajime fills him in on what occurred, being saved by the "Future Foundation" (oh, it's them.) and particularly specific members (Makoto! As in Makoto Naegi, The Ultimate Hope Makoto? Yes Komaeda, just keep it in your pants.), as well as explaining Nagito’s status, his mental and physical state (still affected by his pre-existing conditions, albeit less so), and the new addition to his body.

He turns it. He didn't even notice he had a new arm. It feels seamless, although the metal is strange to feel underneath his fingertips.

“I had to replace it.” Hajime explains. “The dead tissue was threatening to spread to the rest of your body if it was kept there. It was fine when we were hooked up to the pods since that was preserving it, but since you went into a coma, we had to act fast.”

“Hmm.” He curls his newfound metallic fingers. He sends him a smile. “It seems I owe a lot of my gratitude to you, Hinata, for helping trash like me.”

There's a pause. “We'll work on that,” is the response Hajime settles with. “...Do you want to meet everyone else?”

He freezes. Everyone else?

Although he doesn't know why, he feels himself pale completely and his body shivers. Everything in him feels cold, as if the temperature dropped, as if his whole body rejected the very idea of something he was otherwise only semi-wary about. He knows he had many reasons before to feel apprehensive around his former classmates, given his past transgressions during his time as a Remnant and theirs, but this feels... bone-chilling. Buried deep within his psyche, perhaps connected to the memories he doesn't have.

“What happened in the program.” He bluntly states, rather than asks.

“No one else remembers too, if that helps.” Hajime starts. It doesn't. “Even I barely remember it. Everyone has felt snippets though, things they avoid subconsciously, or they experience nightmares about it.” He wonders if Hajime has nightmares. He wonders what Hajime avoids. “It was broadcast-”

“I want to watch it.”

Hajime's jaw tightens. “It wasn't that type of broadcast. It wasn't recorded, it was just shown to Makoto and the other survivors. Besides, it's best you don't anyway. You're going to remember something about it.”

“How cynical. What if all I remember are pleasant things?” Nagito inquires, even if he knows the likelihood of that is so astronomically low. He is aware of himself. He knows being put into a situation like the Killing Game would just mean he'd have made very elaborate plans and schemes. Thinking that, a sharp pain in his abdomen sears through him, and he winces. It's a whisper of a feeling, but it felt... real.

Hajime merely lets out a defeated sigh. “I hope it is, Komaeda, I hope it is.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Throughout everything, this was the last thing he thought about. 

The scars. 

For the longest time, he forgot about the scars. For the briefest of moments, his complexion wasn’t completely covered by raised bumps, of angry red tissue, of the careless abandon from scientists who dissected him to fit their molds of perfection. 

And now he’s left looking into the mirror, tracing. His fingers feel the ridges. He remembers the scalpel digging into his eye, even if he didn’t feel the pain of it. He looks at the angry lines along his muscles, his thighs, and he knows with certainty it can be traced down to his feet, the bathroom counter being the only reason he can’t see the reflection of it. He remembers exactly what they forcibly fused together, being haunted by the ghosts of the sutures that were once there.

This is who he sees looking back at him.

…Mikan cleans the glass away from his fist.

[He could’ve done it himself, but it would’ve been a messier job, much like with anything else he would try nowadays.]

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Hajime is out training with Nekomaru, alongside Akane, and casually working out with them.

Nekomaru points out the bandages that suddenly replace his glove, and he waves them off. “Just an accident.” 

After a decent workout, he starts heading back to his cabin to shower when he spots Fuyuhiko to the side, relaxing against a wall.

“Hey.” He greets.  

“Yo.” The former yakuza head nods.

They watch those on the beach, a tall orange blurb chases after a red one, their laughter filling the air as suddenly they're jumped by an even louder multicoloured blurb cackling with mischief. He can hear Hiyoko's distant cursing while Mikan rushes over, fretting. He snorts.

Fuyuhiko crosses his arms, a smile on his face at the scene. “Can’t believe we get to have this.” 

“I know.” He agrees. He’d do anything to ensure everyone here stayed happy like this. Speaking of, he has to make sure to check on the next shipment of supplies afterward. He refuses to have those Future Foundation workers anywhere near the Island otherwise. But first, shower.

He's about to leave when-

“What’s with the bandages?” The former yakuza asks.

He contemplates lying. The last thing he wants is for everyone to start worrying about him. As if aware of his thoughts, Fuyuhiko sends him a particularly scathing glare, menacing even with the eyepatch. He fesses up immediately. 

“I punched a mirror.”

“Why?”

“My scars-” He starts. 

Fuyuhiko quickly interjects. “There’s nothing wrong with them.”

“Part of me understands that, but I look at them and just see…” Hope's Peak. The Hope Cultivation Project. The Remnants of Despair. He squeezes his bandaged hand. “...bad memories.”

“Yeah, I feel that.” Almost subconsciously, Hajime glances at Fuyuhiko’s scar, hidden behind black cloth. Fuyuhiko meets his gaze, unflinching. “I hate thinking about having that bitch’s eye in me.”

“How do you do it?” How do you look at yourself in the mirror? How do you live with yourself? How do you not hate yourself? 

“Being a former yakuza, scars were symbols of respect. This scar?” He gestures to it. “It’s a reminder I’m not some psychotic fuck anymore under that bitch’s heel.

I know I’m not you, Hajime. I don’t have the amount you have. But know that your scars show that you’ve survived, and you’ve made it out the other side. That’s admirable.

And ain’t nobody here went through the type of shit you did. We all look up to you. You’ve had this whole thing on your shoulders. Nobody thinks you’re damaged goods with those scars. Hell, we think of them as a reminder that you’re the strongest out of all of us.” 

“...Thanks, Fuyuhiko.”

“No problem. Now you should go take a shower, you smell like shit.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Hajime waits in front of the screen. In no time, Chiaki's grinning face pops up. “Hey Hajime. It's nice to see you. How're you doing today?”

They talk amicably. Even though she wasn't his former friend, the reminder of her AI was comforting, and in the few pleasant dreams he had, he remembered her presence (and in the worser ones, he remembered her death).

“-There's a call for you by the way, I think. It's from Makoto.” He nods. “Thanks Chiaki.”

She patches him through, and he finds it so striking the difference between now and the tentativeness from the beginning, back when they were still establishing Jabberwock Island. Signal seemed daunting, and they (him, Makoto, and Byakuya) were still trying to get Chiaki's AI booted back up. He remembers when they first suggested she try to call the Future Foundation (particularly Aoi, since Hajime refused to have the new Future Foundation head or some random member appear on the screen, since he'd contemplate breaking the nice monitor in half from sheer rage). “It's not what I’m programmed to do,” Chiaki had said, “but… I can try.”

Of course, Makoto and himself exchange pleasantries and talk for a bit, but then it derails into... less pleasant topics. “I'm hoping to finish up the layout for Hope's Peak.”

He tightens a hand over his glove, pursing his lips. “Makoto. I’m glad you want to reclaim yourself, but Hope’s Peak? Really?” He hisses, and Makoto sighs, as if they had this same argument over and over again. 

They have, by the way. Relentlessly. He is NOT getting over this, not by a long shot. He already knows how much Makoto invested into the project, but he’s still of the very firm belief he should’ve invested zero. Of course, he wouldn’t taint their rare ability to chat with one another about it, but he isn’t above reminding Makoto if he brings it up, just to be petty.

But being TRAUMATIZED WATCHING YOUR FRIENDS GET MURDERED is one of the many valid reasons for having absolutely NO interest in seeing the place that tortured him, everyone he cares about, Makoto, everyone Makoto cares about, and basically THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD, come back to existence. 

He loves Makoto, he does, and he knows Makoto’s a good guy, but… 

The idea of Hope’s Peak not being some fucked up breeding ground for hope and despair? It doesn’t seem possible. Part of the problem in the first place was the idea of pitting students against each other, forcibly defining people's significance based on whether they had “talent” or not. As well, they really sucked at developing talented people's talent, giving arbitrary assignments (from what he heard) and no actual practicality applied. He would know. His body is literally littered with their failure.

And the Future Foundation providing a substantial amount of the funds for this project? Hajime has no doubt in his mind that there’s something underlying their generosity. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It's looking to be another sleepless night, despite the weight under his eyes begging for relief. Hajime just stares at the ceiling. He feels the body beside him shift the bed, creaking it ever so slightly, and in his peripherals Nagito faces him. Nagito has always been a bit of a restless sleeper (not that he blames him), so he isn't surprised to hear him ask, “What’s on your mind, Hajime?”

He sighs. “I’m just worried about the whole Hope's Peak idea.”

“You don’t believe in Makoto?”

He quickly flips onto his side to frown at Komaeda for the sheer idea. “I believe in him, I don’t believe in anyone else.”

“Well, I can’t help but feel a little hurt…”

“You know how I feel about you.”

Nagito hums. “Do I?” He smirks. “How do you feel, Hajime?” 

Why is he turned this way again? He flips back around, ignoring the way his ears start to warm up.

“...Shut up and go to sleep already.” 

He hears Nagito chuckle behind his back. It settles eventually though. Ah, Nagito finally went to bed.

“You know,” Nagito's voice pipes up, still awake after all. His voice sounds a little whimsical, as if nearly about to sleep. “I don't necessarily disagree with you. I thought it was a place of great hope, and the fact it's being run by the Ultimate Hope is quite amazing. But...

There's you. And the hope in you has been shining so brightly this whole time.”

He freezes. Did he just-?

The words spark something in him. As if they sounded familiar.

He gets a rush that tea- nor even caffeine back when it did anything for him- has never achieved. When he eventually does sleep that night, his dreams are pleasant.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It's one of those rare instances Makoto lands on Jabberwock Island and can say hi to everyone. They meet at the small restaurant on the Island where Hajime prepares some tea for himself. He offers it to Makoto, who takes it gratefully.

Much like their video chats, the start talking about what's currently going on when Makoto- once again- mentions Hope's Peak.

Hajime lowers his cup.

“I'm going to be reinstating talents at Hope’s Peak.”

His fingers clutch his glove. He digs them in, sharp and quick, his lips immediately pulling down into a frown.

“Did… someone force you to do this?”

“Uh, no?” Makoto averts his gaze. “I’ve consulted with basically everyone since you’ve started getting me a little paranoid…”

“You should be. The Future Foundation doesn’t deserve you. You’re way too good for them.”

“They're trying to change.” Makoto states, with not much conviction.

Hajime hums skeptically. Sure they are. “Just watch out for yourself, yeah? Because the first thing I’ll do is leave this island just to kick their asses. I don’t need an Ultimate to make them into ragdolls.”

Makoto chuckles, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “...You must’ve practiced that.”

“Being around Fuyuhiko and Akane tends to give you some badass lines.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It starts like a regular day. Things break, people fight, problems arise, he deals with it. When he sees the broadcast, he doesn't know how to deal with it.

“Oh, Makoto's on TV. How exciting.” Nagito mentions offhandedly, as if it was something as casual as the weather. It decidedly is NOT. Is Makoto okay? Why would he be broadcasted? Is this another...?

“-ing Hope's Peak,” He catches the tail end of. “In this world, there's nothing more important than banding together to fix the Tragedy that occurred. Rejoice with me as your new headmaster. Alongside the Future Foundation, we'll bring forth a new hope together!” Hajime cringes, and cringes hard. This doesn't sound like Makoto at all. The Future Foundation logo is the last image of this blatant ad, what the fuck, but he's seen enough.

He knows exactly how to deal with this.

He strolls into the new Future Foundation headquarters (although that may be underselling it). Instantly, upon seeing him, people start shrieking and running. Red lights blink in and out. He brushes it off. It’s the last of his damn worries right now.

He's rushed by armoured guys. He suddenly feels like he should've thought this through, but he continues on. He slips himself into the old Remnant persona like an ill-fitting jacket, paired with a little Ultimate Actor prowess. “Let me through or I'll make sure your families have nothing to put into a casket.” Okay, not his best work, but it's enough for them to back off. They watch him. He even hears one guy cowering in fear from behind. It's that which allows him to catch the guy's arm and dislocate it. Everyone jumps at the sudden violence, and the guy screeches.

He knows it's fixable, but he still feels bad. The mask he wears threatens to slip, but he keeps going until he gets to the new Future Foundation head. (Hajime met her before through a forced video call, with them threatening to interfere at Jabberwock Island if he wasn't capable enough. “I am Sumiko Hatanaka,” they introduced themselves. “Ultimate Administrator. Given the circumstances the Future Foundation is currently in, I have become appointed as the temporary replacement head provided my previous experience and commitment to my work.”)

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing.” He sneers.

“How are you here?” She asks. “What are you doing here?”

“That wasn’t my question.” 

He sees a sheen of nervousness across their forehead, but they don't let up their frown.

“Why are you here, Hajime Hinata, Remnant of Despair?” 

Why is he here? Why is he HERE?

“What gave you the right to use Makoto for some ad for Hope's Peak? What the hell are you doing, exposing him further to the public? Do you know what this could do to him?”

“I assure you, I have no vested interest in letting a valued employee be defaced in any way, shape, or form. His mental faculties are highly important to this company. Meanwhile, you are jeopardizing the very people you wished to protect by coming here. Was it worth it?”

He growls, “Leave Makoto the fuck alone, or I’ll remind you why I was a Remnant.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Makoto’s Hope’s Peak is in full operation. He doesn't know if he'll ever visit. So instead, Hajime is left pondering the future, and living on the Island with the rest of his classmates.

He genuinely hopes nothing bad will happen, but...

He wouldn't bet that it won't.

[celamoon]

what are your favorite ao3 fics you’ve read? IM CURIOUS i need fic recommendations LMFJSBDK

LIKE DANGANRONPA OR NON-DANGANRONPA BC I HAVE A COUPLE OF BOOKMARKS I'D LIKE TO SHARE AND I ADORE (they are all x readers bc I have issues I'm sorry anon I have very poor taste)

Ok SDR2 nsfw wise I like

Delivery from Hinata, with love by tr0mb0ne

Basically, Hinata has the rest of class 77b make reader’s day easier when he’s not around and they have soft seggs in the end 🫠💕

Dirty Minded by enbyatlas

Reader catches despair disease and mmm fUCK they fuck yeah they fuck mm did I mention they fuck

Helping hand by breemaybe

Komaeda fingers reader with the robot hand. That's it.

If you want any other high-quality smut I'd recommend Green, Eli, tr0mb0ne, and Bree !! I love all of the smut that they write scrumptious mmm

SDR2 sfw wise I like

Growing pains by tieressian

Childhood friends au with Komaeda!! Very heart clenching and pain-inducing but it's super cute and I love it a lot.

The Final Piece by LoveSoftLove113

SDR2 reader insert pretty much!! I haven't finished reading this one but I read the first couple of chapters and it's sO good. So incredibly good. Omfg.

the sun can bend an orange sky by tieressian

stardew valley au with Komaeda!! It's super cute and I just love it. Call me biased for putting a fic I got as a gift, idc it was good

a letter for your heart by goddess_of_green

Reader gives Komaeda a letter for valentines and he thinks reader is playing him but they're not :(

and if in doubt, remember that I'm still ticking by orphan_account

SOULMATE AU WITH KOMAEDA BUT OMFG HINATA MADE ME CRY

communication is key by enbyatlas

This fic made me both scream and cry my heart out and have a mental breakdown /pos this is a super cute fic which is pretty much a sdr2 reader insert as well but eli wrote is so well I'm biting him in the brain mentally

If you want any more fics go find jackie, and green (again) !! They have really really good sfw fics and no I'm not just saying this bc they're my moots

Non-Danganronpa related wise, I adore these two

Sight for Sour Eyes by interchaellar (Blue Lock)

where Sae has been in love with reader for ages and finally manages to date reader The light of my life and love of my life I love this fic so FUCKING MUCH

the chune by macsea (Rated E ; Bungou Stray Dogs)

Band au with Chuuya that is just so hot you have to read this anon I just love it so fucking much

Spider-Man Kisses by we_burnin_shit_yo

SPIDERMAN KISSES WITH CHUUYA (cries into hands)

allegro. by blushzzt (Cai Xukun)

Soulmate au with Kunkun!! I love this fic so much

And a final shameless plug of my own fics that I'm vv proud of lmao (anon since you're here asking I'm assuming u alr read my fics)

Russian roulette is not the same without a gun - Kakegurui-inspired Komaeda/reader fic (Rated E ; Underage)

path to the heart - music school au Kamukura/reader (rated M bc of drug use)

door to the soul - music school au Komaeda/reader where the two prepare for a concert together and fall in love in the process

prince and palace - college au with Komaeda

accismus - Hinata/reader knight au (Rated M ; graphic depictions of violence)

marry you - Komaeda/reader childhood (fake) marriage au

[get-chazzed]

When do you usually do most of your writing?

Pet peeves?

What is on your wishlist?

When do you usually do most of your writing?

I wake up very late because I have no self control and a really messed up sleeping schedule, so I do the writing from 1 pm onward, generally speaking. Then again, I have spent more than one day doing nothing but typing away on my keyboard for this account, so... Yeah. I'd like to say I do most of it during the daytime, but it depends: if a thread I like gets a reply at 2 am (which happens a lot because everyone seems to be living in the Americas?) you can bet I'll be typing a reply as soon as I get the notification (though I almost never post them right away, since I'm anxious about spelling, syntax and so on). It might be that I'm new to the scene and that I'm a situation in which I have little else to do, but I get really excited whenever I get a reply or an ask and will jump at the chance to start interacting with new people- which is sadly kind of hard because of how unpopular GX seems to be among the RPC. People have still been very nice to me and have been very open to testing out interactions, which I'm deeply grateful for. I am wagging my nonexistent tail of all of you, constantly. On a separate note, I do the fic writing after midnight. Always. And I hate it.

Pet peeves?

... Oof. Ok. I'll take my chance to say a bunch of things? Don't hate me for it, I don't mind any of these that much.

1) I kind of dislike writing in present tense, mostly because I find it unnatural, but I will when the other person does. I'm the opposite of picky- and it isn't necessarily a good thing.

2) Fancy formatting. It's one thing to use small text, that I don't mind one bit. But when fonts and random highlighted words are involved I get very confused? I know I use italics for emphasis and for things that are meant to be internal monologue that isn't narrated, but rather delivered by the muse himself- maybe that's annoying or distracting to someone? I bet someone out there has looked at a reply of mine and wanted to delete the post in my stead at some point.

3) Heavily edited icons. Again, icons or not, it technically doesn't make much of a difference. I personally have taken a liking to keeping my Manjoume icon folder open on my second screen- plus I'm Italian. Come on. Half my communication skills are non verbal I'm lying I suck at communicating in general. The edited icons, yes- a frame and coloured filter make icons look personal and I appreciate the work put into them, but when I can barely make out the expression I have to wonder what the point is. Aesthetics, I suppose, which is fine, of course.

4) Tumblr themes. Some themes don't allow for reblogs when you open posts on the op's blog. WHY. It's sort of annoying to have to fish for the post in order to reply to it.

5) Endless threads. Very few do this, but I think you should consider that people who are not involved in a given thread will have to scroll through it on their dashes before you reblog a thread without cropping it. That's all. I didn't know how to do it initially, but I asked and I was lucky enough to get an answer from a very kind person.

6) ... Grammar. Typos are fine and dandy. Sometimes they happen and you can't notice them because some words exist and thus are not highlighted by the spellchecker (which is on everyone's chrome, by the way). An example is 'fir' and 'for'. I can assure you there is no red squiggle under 'fir'. It's a tree, apparently. I had no clue. But yes, I am not from an English speaking country, so don't take this as like... a British dude coming up to you and bullying you because your English is bad. No. A misplaced comma is ok, I don't care. It becomes a problem when the sentences are hard to understand. That's it. (Note- if I write something that you think is an incomprehensible mess, tell me and I'll try my best to fix it.)

... I'm done. I am not angry at anyone who does any of these, believe me. Pet peeve number seven is a request. DM me for literally anything. If I do something wrong, tell me. I write a lot of extra tags to convey how I feel about what has been written and maybe it's unnecessary, but I do it so you can always know that I'm actively invested in the interaction. If I don't add tags it's solely because there is nothing to add. But if it's annoying, tell me and I'll stop immediately. That is all.

What is on your wishlist?

... This.

How very unexpected, I know.

A bunch of other things, too: I have some Jojo prints in my cart on Etsy and I know I'll never get them (sad) and a bunch of videogames on Steam and the Nintendo e-shop (which I'll never buy or play- they look neat though). On Amazon I have the last few volumes of the DM manga and the GX series (Light and Darkness Dragon, my beloved). Also also any charm that has to do with Manjoume. I haven't found any I could buy, but I want 'em all. Literally break into my house if you find one. Ah! And the matching figures of Komaeda and Hinata from Danganronpa 2! (Big Danganronpa fan, bigger Komahina shipper- I've made a fucking animatic and I can't post it because the music is copyrighted ;) ) I also have a bunch of zines I'm waiting for- some I've bought and are about to be sent out and others have only posted interest checks. 2021 was the year in which I discovered that yes, I can commission people and buy zines and it doesn't need to a big event (except I'm not rich and need to be mindful with spending of course). ... I also really want the new Pokemon games. Like right now.

... If it turns out the question wasn't actually about like... material things, but rather what I want to do with my blog and muse in the future... Well, first of all pretend I said nothing. Second, I want to find an art style I can comfortably use to make more frequent illustrations for threads and asks. I was a big fan of ask blogs as a kid (I saw them through crust screenshots and reposts only, I didn't have a tumblr lol) and I always wanted to be that cool artist that makes cool art for a given cool character. Manjoume is the coolest of characters to me, so yeah.

[magioftheseas]

Staying Together as We Fall Apart

Summary: Komaeda's plan failed. It failed spectacularly and horrendously and there’s no recovering from it. Hinata Hajime ruined everything. And he really, really doesn't understand how things turned out this way. There's only one thing he's sure about. That he's glad Komaeda survived.

Rating: T+

Warnings: Blood, implied/threatened violence, mental instability and breakdowns, and panic attacks.

Notes: YAAAAAAA CHAPTER 5 FIC WHERE KOMAEDA LIVES FOR KOMAEDA DAAAAAY. It’s not very happy. I was also like requested this like, uh, five years ago. And have been working/procrastinating ever since. Yeah. This was a long time coming. But when I checked it it was like so close to done that I was just “what the hell” and finished it up. Yeah. Please enjoy. Or suffer. Everyone else already is.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

Will this ending be one of despair or one of hope?

It’s not like I’ll be around to see it, but, more than anything I want...

At some point, he grew numb to the burning agony all across his body. He just laid in silence in darkness, breathing heavily through his nose as the tape’s underside grew moist and slimy rather than sticky against his open mouth. Any moment he could shut his eyes tight and drift into painful darkness, but he resolutely stared upwards towards the ceiling and the hanging spear.

There can’t be anything but a brilliantly hopeful ending from this, right? That’s right... That’s right.

He’s going to die here. It shouldn’t matter.

But there was going to be a brilliantly hopeful ending at the end. It hurt now—it really, really hurt—but once it was all over, there’d be nothing but hope. Nothingness and hope.

So hurry up already, he can’t help but think, tiredly and irritably. Worthless despairs—how long are you idiots going to make me wait? Come over here right away—hurry up—

Hinata-kun...

“K-Komaeda?!”

Komaeda’s fluttering gaze shot open wide as he turned. Standing in the entryway, stiff and staring down with nothing short of unremarkable, completely expectable horror on his plain, plain features was Hinata-kun.

Komaeda’s grip on the spear slipped as both he and Hinata screamed.

--

“Guys?! GUYS?! Y-You’re here?!”

There was music playing, but they still somehow picked up on that exclamation.

“Hinata...?!” Souda gasped as Kuzuryuu cursed. “Hinata, where ARE ya? I-Is that nutjob...?!”

“H-Hold on...!” Hinata shouts and none of them could see him even as they looked around. “I... I’m on my way, just...!”

That was around when the fire started.

--

“S-Shit! Fuck! Guys! GUYS!”

“Hinata-san—! K-Komaeda-san?!”

“Hold on! We’ll do something about these flames!”

“Just—try to stay safe. Both of you.”

“H...Hurry...!”

This was absolutely incredible. This was amazing! This was, was...!

This was complete and utter despair. From the roaring flames to the rope that had been torn off to the hanging spear that Hinata had dragged him out from under.

Hinata was coughing from the smoke. But Hinata was still jostling him, trying to drag him further as Komaeda regarded him blankly.

“U-Urgh... H... Hang in there... Komaeda...”

Komaeda could’ve laughed if the sound wasn’t muffled and if it didn’t hurt to breathe so bad. Hinata is cursing over and over and rather violently, he shoves his tie over Komaeda’s nose. It doesn’t do much, it just makes it hurt more, but Hinata is trembling.

Hinata hisses suddenly. His shaking gets worse. His grip tightens and it’s worse than the blinding agony of his hand.

“K-Komaeda... Komaeda...”

Due to the flames, they’re trapped. For one brief, terrifying moment, Hinata seems as though he’s about to pass out from the smoke.

But through sheer force of will or something—something else, Hinata manages to stay alert until the sprinklers finally, finally go off.

And at that point, nothing else matters at all. Not even in the slightest. There’s not even any point in staying awake anymore.

“Komaeda...? H-Hey, Komaeda...! No, just... Just keep your eyes open...! Please!”

Hinata sounds so upset that Komaeda squeezes his eyes shut out of spite.

I should be the one crying right now.

It’s such a pitiful, vile thought. And the warmth of Hinata’s desperate embrace, the frantic brushes of his hand against his hair are all the worse for it.

I could die of humiliation right now. I wish I did.

“Hinata—! HINATA!!!”

“Guys! H-Hurry! I—I don’t know how much longer he’s going to last—please!!”

God. This is the fucking worst.

--

The others arrive. They see the state he’s in. Sonia screams. Kuzuryuu is the one who directs Hinata how to remove the knife embedded in his hand. That makes Komaeda scream, Hinata soothes him clumsily, apologizing softly, and, through his blurring vision—Komaeda can almost swear that someone is looking down upon him so coldly.

He wonders if it’s the traitor or someone else.

“Please... Take me back...” Once the tape’s removed, all he can do is beg like the worthless dog he is. “T-Take me back... I don’t... I-I don’t... I don’t...!”

“Don’t squirm so much, you asshole!”

“Please... Please...!”

“Komaeda, please! Calm down!”

“Just let me go back! Let me go!”

“K-Komaeda—!”

It hurts. It hurts so much. Aha. Haha. The person who’s looking down on me—

As he passes out, the only thing he’s sure about is that it’s not Hinata Hajime.

--

After that, well... Monokuma had seemed a little disappointed but who the hell cared. They managed to get Komaeda Nagito to the hospital, and after that, Hinata found himself in a painful position, too.

“Ow!”

“Uh, sorry.” Kuzuryuu does look really apologetic, clicking his tongue with a tense sigh as he tried cleaning the wound at least a little gentler. It still stung and had Hinata wincing as Kuzuryuu mumbled, near inaudibly, “I’m not exactly Tsumiki...”

“These don’t look that serious though,” Souda notes as he bandages his arm. “You can get some really nasty burns—but you uh, got real lucky, Hinata.”

“Lucky, huh,” Hinata mused.

Of course, Souda and Kuzuryuu both soured immediately. Souda in particular just let out a long, aggravated groan.

“Seriously what the hell even happened to that guy? Did someone seriously torture him or did that freak do all that shit to himself? Why did a fire get set off? What was with the bomb shit?! I told ya—we should’ve just kept him tied up from the start!”

“What I wanted to know,” Kuzuryuu murmured, low and deathly cold, “is why that fucker wanted to go back into the building so badly when he was...like that...”

“He was just crazy!” Souda exclaimed. “Since when does ANYTHING that asshole does make a lick of sense?!”

“I don’t think so...” Hinata spoke up suddenly and slowly. “Komaeda seemed...hysterical about something. I’ve never seen him get like that except when he had the Despair Fever. Surely he had a motive for pulling off a stunt that complicated and...if he really injured himself like that...”

Was he really trying to get himself killed? For what? Was he hoping we’d think he was murdered? That... Something’s off about all this...

“We can interrogate him later,” Kuzuryuu huffed. “For now, we’re letting Monokuma treat that idiot and then...”

“We’re getting out of here,” Souda finished, firm and final. “Even if we have to drag that psychopath after us on a chain leash.”

“Did you have to be so weirdly specific?” Kuzuryuu asked, flustering him.

“I-It was just the first thing that came to mind for some reason! Don’t ask questions! Don’t look so deeply into it either!”

Hinata, smiling a bit at the banter, faltered soon after.

...Something’s really, really off about all this.

--

“Hinata-san, I’m so sorry! If I had just realized sooner that the bombs were fake...!”

“Sonia,” Hinata put up his hands between the two of them, smile strained. “None of this is in any way your fault.”

“Ugh.” Owari’s nose wrinkled in distaste as she took in his bandages arms and face. “You look terrible, though. At least the bandages look about right. But if they get undone, I’ll fix ‘em later, alright?”

“Thanks, Owari,” he replied, nodding. His smile twists all the same. “But, really, I’m fine. So you don’t need to worry about me.”

Annoyingly, the one I’m worried about is...

“...That guy...how is he doing?”

Owari’s face soured immediately and even Sonia’s mood seemed to plummet. Incredibly, Sonia took a deep breath, demurely folded her hands, and she answered.

“Komaeda-san should survive.” Owari scoffed, but Sonia admirably went on. “But his injuries were...of course...much more serious than yours so he’s not...ready to take visitors quite yet.”

Hinata nodded as Owari rolled her eyes.

“Who the hell even cares?” she complained, loudly. “With how that asshole had us running around like idiots, this is just what he deserves.”

Sonia flinched, as did he.

“Look,” he said. “I’m pissed, too, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. He was tortured, Owari.”

“He coulda did that shit to himself,” Owari pointed out. “It’s pretty likely, ain’t it? Komaeda’s definitely crazy enough to do that.”

“...Then does that not make the situation even more disturbing?” Sonia asked quietly. “Komaeda-san is...extreme but...this was...so extreme.”

“Is it really that hard to believe?” Owari shot back. “He’s crazy. That’s all there is to it.”

Sonia had nothing to say to that, but Hinata thought it over, irritated.

No... Even for Komaeda, this was...

“Still, we don’t know the whole story,” he said. “Until then, let’s just...refrain for now. Haven’t the past few days been exhausting enough?”

Owari stills, and she falters, and she nodded.

“Yeah,” she replied, softly and gruffly. “Fair enough, Hinata.”

It’s then, that he remembers, and can’t help but ask.

“By the way...where’s Nanami?” Hinata wondered if she was just playing games. The lodge had been miraculously fixed and it wasn’t like there was much else but wait around while Komaeda recovered. He wouldn’t be surprised, even if he very bitterly envied her, too, if that were the case.

“She’s standing guard,” Owari said. “For that guy. Just in case someone actually was trying to kill him, or so she said...”

Well, never mind that. Hinata couldn’t help but be irritated with himself for thinking otherwise.

“Hinata-san...” Sonia very carefully touches his shoulder. “You should get some rest. Do you want to rest here or back at your cabin? I do not mind accompanying you.”

“Me neither,” Owari added. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

“You can help Nanami-san guard Komaeda-san,” Sonia pointed out. And she rolled her eyes hard.

“I don’t have anything better to do.”

That irritation flared up even more.

“Actually,” Hinata cut in with a bit more force than necessary. “I’ll just...use one of the beds here. It’s no big deal and... I’m not in the mood to walk all the way back. You two can just...go.”

The way he spoke didn’t seem to have much in the way in room to argue, but that was just fine. Owari nodded like it wasn’t even a problem, and Sonia complied ever politely.

“Feel free to use the buzzer if you need anything,” she said. “Kuzuryuu-san already agreed to stay here just as he had before.”

Before...that’s right, this isn’t the first time Komaeda’s had to fight for his life in this stupid hospital...

Thinking that...really annoyed him so much more.

“Thanks, Sonia.”

--

Trying to get to sleep was decidedly an absolute pain in the ass. Even with the painkillers and bandages, there was hardly a position he could find that didn’t press into his wounds and cause them to ache. Stupid fire. Stupid Komaeda. Stupid culprit behind all this who very well and very easily could have also been Komaeda. Fucking Komaeda.

He didn’t have a great dream, either. Everything was burning, even his feet, and Komaeda wouldn’t stop laughing, laughing, laughing as Monokuma batted Hinata around like a ball of yarn. He woke up, groggy and pained and even more irritated.

And in one of the other beds, Nanami slept so serenely he wanted to scream. He did, in fact, muffle said scream against a pillow. And Nanami stirred awake.

“Hinata...kun...?”

“It’s nothing.” The words come out like a croak. What Hinata wouldn’t give right now to choke on a frog. “So you’re...taking a break from guarding, Nanami...?”

“Mm...” Nanami pushed herself up, rubbing at her eye with a soft yawn. “Kuzuryuu-kun’s guarding. So is...Monomi, I think.”

“I see,” Hinata replied.

“Ah, Komaeda-kun should be awake and available to visitors in a bit,” Nanami went on to say. “He’ll be...hungry, I think. Should I bring him something?”

“He has IVs in, doesn’t he?” Hinata muttered. “So he’s not being starved this time.”

“I suppose that’s true,” she agreed.

He couldn’t help but get more annoyed, and he shoved himself up.

“Nanami,” he said. “How long ago did you and Kuzuryuu switch?”

“Um...” She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to think. “A few...hours...? Three...or five? I dunno. I’ve been asleep for most of that time, I think.”

“There’s a clock, Nanami.”

“Oh... So there is.” Nanami blinked at the clock Hinata had gestured toward, and she nodded. “Yep. Five hours. I napped for a while, huh.”

Hinata stepped out of the bed, running fingers through his hair.

“Are you gonna go?” she asked, blinking those pink doe eyes at him next. “I mean, I should go, I think...since I agreed to guard him first...”

“Nanami,” he said, sighing. “It’s not like I have anything better to do when I can’t get any amount of decent sleep like this.”

She blinked once. Twice. And then, her head tilted. “I suppose that’s true.”

He supposed.

--

“And you’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, really.”

“...Hm.”

“Kuzuryuu, really.”

Kuzuryuu sighed, but he nodded all the same, patting Hinata’s shoulder. It doesn’t hurt. Not really. But he can’t help but remember how he supported Komaeda’s surprisingly slight frame on that shoulder.

Kuzuryuu is on his way soon after that, leaving Hinata just waiting there, outside the door, with the light still on, signaling an operation in progress. And so, Hinata sits down, and he waits.

And waits.

And waits.

--

He’s not sure how long it is. He wasn’t keeping track, not really.

(But if he did, he’d guess it had been about 4 hours, 52 minutes, 29 seconds, and 13 milliseconds. But that’d just be a guess. Just a guess.)

The doors open, and Monokuma waddles out. He pretends to look as surprised as he is quite disgustingly delighted.

“Hinata-kun! How nice of you to visit your dear, dear friend!”

“How is he?” he asked, voice gruff. “Did you kill him?”

“Moi? Of course not! I’m a bear of my word!” Monokuma exclaimed, giving a dreamy, flushed smile. “To disappoint you is such easy despair... But at the same time, it’s too easy. I might as well fulfill my words and wait for you to disappoint yourselves.”

“That’s nonsensical,” Hinata huffed. “How long will it be before Komaeda can take visitors?”

“Oh, you can go in there now!” Monokuma said. “There’s no need to wait! Just dive right in! He was up for a while anyway. All while I was working on him! Creepy, huh?”

He wasn’t even surprised, be it at Komaeda in general or at Monokuma’s usual audacity.

“...He’s going to be in a bad mood, then,” Hinata muttered, guessing. “Is he in pain?”

“Despairing agony, Hinata-kun! What else would you expect from your darling headmaster?” Monokuma blinked at him, all spinning flowers and sparkles. He winked, and it wasn’t any better. “But he’s beary, beary stubbornly alive. I can’t help but be beary impressed!”

This was getting difficult to...tolerate.

“I’m going to see him, then.”

“Heh?! So soon?! Gosh, you boys really are impatient, huh? So ready to get down and dirty!” Monokuma panted. Then he giggled, vibrating with delight. “You’re such a good friend, Hinata-kun! No, even closer than a friend, perhaps... A soulmate?!”

Souda said something like this. He takes it even less seriously now because it’s Komaeda, for fuck’s sake.

“Are you going to get out of the way or do I have to walk around?” he asked snappily. Monokuma stiffened, and then twirled out of the way.

“I’ll forgive you now, but never speak to your headmaster like that again!” He brandished sharp claws with a sharper gleam in his beady little eye. “Or else!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hinata muttered and didn’t even look at him as he opened the door and let himself in.

Then and there, it’s like a weight dropped onto his shoulders, leaving him struggling to do something as simple as swallow.

“...O... Oi... Komaeda...?”

--

He hadn’t gotten an answer at first. Komaeda wasn’t even looking at him. Komaeda was still lying down on the hospital bed, wrapped in bandages, gaze on the window. It was...reminiscent to when this had been Kuzuryuu in what felt like so, so long ago. But even then, Komaeda looks so much smaller, so much frailer, than even Kuzuryuu.

Hinata steps forward, and the weight on his shoulders shifts and threatens to shatter him in a moment’s notice if he’s not too careful.

“Komaeda.”

Nothing.

“Komaeda.”

Still nothing.

“Komaeda,” Hinata growled. “I know you can hear me, so just...answer already. For fuck’s sake.”

“Forgive me,” Komaeda said so airily. “I didn’t think I was listening to anything important.”

God, what a jackass.

“Komaeda, we need to talk.”

Komaeda still wasn’t looking at him.

“Komaeda...” His voice rose. “Oi...!”

“You’re so noisy,” Komaeda cut in dryly. “You can’t even give me time to gather my thoughts? My, my, for a reserve, you’re especially careless.”

Hinata flinched, and he slumped.

“...how are you feeling?” he asked lamely. “You...lost a lot of blood...”

“You don’t say,” Komaeda replied dully, still staring out the window. Hinata could almost see that unimpressed face reflected in the glass. “Any other stellar observations, reserve-san?”

Hinata grits his teeth.

“That situation,” he growled. “Who did that to you? The others said...that you left a video claiming that you’d expose the traitor. Well? Who is it? Or was that another lie?”

“Who knows,” Komaeda said so simply it infuriated him even more.

Is he even taking this seriously?! And after he got tortured!

...tortured...

Hinata’s eyes swept over him again, taking in those bandages...those slender limbs with protruding bone...

He can’t imagine how much it would’ve hurt. The burns were a minor anguish but for Komaeda, who got smoke into those open wounds... It must have been searing agony.

Warily, Hinata drew closer.

“Komaeda... Come on,” he said, raising his hands. “You... You have to explain at least some things.”

Finally, Komaeda looked at him. He looked at him...like he was a fucking idiot.

“No,” Komaeda said. “I don’t. It doesn’t matter.”

The hell it doesn’t.

“That’s for me to decide,” Hinata said, tensing. “Either way, I’m not going to let you wiggle out of this. With everything you’ve fucking done, I demand at least some kind of explanation.”

“What if I don’t comply?” Komaeda asked, blinking at him almost innocently. “What are you going to do? Torture me?”

And just like that, Komaeda’s eyes lit up with bright mania.

“I’m sure Kuzuryuu-kun knows a few methods! Ooh, maybe Sonia-san would know some as well? I’m sure Souda-kun can get pretty creative if he puts his mind to it. Maybe Owari-san can hold my head under water?” Komaeda’s lilt dropped to a low jeer just as Hinata began to see red. “Hey, Hinata-kun, what kind of games do you think Nanami-san would like to play—?”

Hinata’s features latched onto his robe as he was yanked up to eye-level, the other scowled with the ugliest of glares.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Hinata hissed, practically spitting into his face. “What have we done?”

Komaeda blinks at him.

“What have you done,” he repeats, less like a question and more like a deadpan. “What have you done—oh goodness, surely you aren’t seriously asking me that?”

“Yes!” Hinata shouted, bluntly and furiously. “Because I’d REALLY like to know! It’s one thing for you to treat me with disdain for being talentless—but it’s another thing for you to treat everyone else with just so much...malice! Don’t... Don’t tell me this is still all about your bullshit with the idea of hope...!”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it is,” Komaeda says without missing a beat. He meets his burning glare with flippancy. “It’s because of hope. I was going to bring upon the ultimate hope. And you got in my way, Hinata-kun. Isn’t that so inconsiderate of you?”

“Inconsiderate?! What even the—?!”

There was a loud, resounding thud as the back of Komaeda’s skull cracked from Hinata shoving him into the wall. And somehow, that sound had Hinata cutting himself off immediately, his grip loosening as Komaeda’s eyes fluttered open and shut blearily, dizzily from the impact.

After a moment of Hinata still with shock at himself, Komaeda finally groaned, whining.

“T-That... That really hurt, Hinata-kun....!”

Hinata yanked himself back, heart thumping hard against his ribcage, hands trembling as he clenched them into tight, painful fists.

“S... Sorry... S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

“If you were any rougher, I could have gotten a concussion. I could have died,” Komaeda pauses while gingerly rubbing the back of his head, and his gaze flickers upwards to meet widened hazels. “Is that what you were planning? Were you going to have everyone think I died from these other injuries?”

“NO!” Hinata shouted, and then quieted. “N-No... No, it was just an accident... I’m sorry, I just... I’m not...”

I’m not really that kind of person, right?! I wouldn’t do that—right? But all this time, I thought I had a talent when in reality...

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic,” Komaeda scoffed. “I wouldn’t let myself get murdered by a mere reserve student. I was just in the middle of telling you that plan wouldn’t have worked.”

“Let... Let’s not talk about this...” Hinata says, swallowing, and then remembering. “The traitor. You said you were going to expose the traitor. Who was it?”

Komaeda’s mouth shut.

“You did all that bomb scare nonsense to lure out whoever the traitor was—and according to the others, you left a message saying that...” Shaking his head, Hinata pushed forward. “Who are they? Who the hell have you been doing all this for? Were they the reason I found you like...?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Komaeda finally answered. “It doesn’t matter at all, Hinata-kun.”

“The HELL it doesn’t!” Hinata exclaimed incredulously.

“It doesn’t.” Komaeda didn’t even blink. “It really, really doesn’t.”

“Komaeda,” Hinata hisses. “I don’t care if it does—I demand to know.”

“Because it’s the demands of a reserve course student matter to me now?” Komaeda asks, narrowing his eyes into something sharp. “You don’t even deserve to lick dirt off my shoe, Hinata-kun.”

“Screw you—I TRIED to understand you, I really did!” Hinata yelled, voice rising higher and higher. “I listened to you—I put up with you for hours! I didn’t have to! I didn’t even want to!”

Komaeda gave him a look that made him flinch. Still, he refused to back down.

“That was your choice,” Komaeda simply said with a shake of his head. “In no way did I ask for it.”

“Except you did,” Hinata hissed. “Don’t lie to me so shamelessly, you asshole. I remember you asking me to listen to you. Which I did up until the point you proved it was all just a waste of my time.”

“Ooh, you really believe that’s what happened? Goodness, Hinata-kun, I can’t believe I had it so wrong!” The saccharine of his tone just oozed with sarcasm. Komaeda’s sugary sweet smile soon dropped, now cold and unimpressed. “Even if that were remotely accurate to what happened, you still shouldn’t expect repayment for your wasted time. That’s disgustingly conceited and entitled.”

“I’m not asking for repayment!” Hinata exclaimed, furious. “I just want some DAMN answers!”

“Why?” Komaeda asks, and then demands, “Why?! Why does it even matter to you?! Hinata-kun, I already said—!”

“You said you were sure I had an amazing talent,” Hinata said, cutting him off. “You said you’d sacrifice yourself for everyone else. You said you didn’t want to die without someone loving you. And guess what, Komaeda?” His tone dropped into something severely low, and bitterly cold. “All of that—you took back. So forgive me if I don’t give much thought to the bullshit you’ve already said.”

It’s maybe the third time he’s seen Komaeda at a loss for words. It’s probably the second time that Komaeda’s sincerely been at a loss of words. With the way Komaeda stares back at him, stricken, wide-eyed and mouth ajar with shock before opening and closing uselessly—Hinata finds he doesn’t doubt this face at all.

And, despite everything, that makes guilt gnaw at him. And how stupid is that? He didn’t say anything wrong, right? It’s Komaeda’s fault for being such a liar, isn’t it? Komaeda’s always trying to trick everyone—he needs to be put in his place.

...what place is that?

Hinata’s shoulders slump as he lets out a heavy, heavy sigh.

“I just...” He says, the words dragging out before he sighs again. “I just don’t understand any of this. Even compared to what you’ve already done—this whole thing just... It’s completely insane.”

Komaeda’s mouth firmly shuts. But his lips are trembling. His eyes are even glimmering. Hinata immediately perks up with surprise.

He looks like he wants to cry.

That can’t be right.

“I... I just want some explanation for all this. There has to be a reason for it. Please...” When did he start pleading? “Komaeda, was the information in that handbook you found really just about me?”

Komaeda blinks at him, giving no other visible reaction. He doesn’t look close to tears anymore, but Hinata wasn’t sure if that was an improvement. Komaeda just stares and stares like the words didn’t even register until,

“What do you think, Hinata-kun?”

“I think—no, I’m sure you lied about that.” He’s absolutely positive now. And suddenly, vague pieces are clicking into place even if he’s sure he has nowhere near the whole picture. “There was more information in there than just my profile. There’s... There’s stuff in there about everyone, isn’t there?”

Komaeda doesn’t answer. He presses.

“It’s not just me you got irritable with after you read that thing. It was with everyone. You—you got so cruel,” Hinata trembles a bit, and asks, “What about us did you learn to make you act like that towards us? What did we do?”

“Oh, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda says, with dull interest. “You’re getting pale. Are you alright?”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

Komaeda avoids his stare. Instead, he asks, quietly, “Were you like this when Nanami-san found you by the Final Dead Room?”

“I—!” Realization immediately smacked him hard in the face, and his eyes went from wide to sharply narrowed in suspicion. “How the hell do you know about that?”

“Lucky guess!” Komaeda chirps with so much cheer that Hinata wanted to punch his face in. Again, there was that innocent smile on his lips—and again, Komaeda’s lashes lowered over a soft, disingenuous gaze. “I’m glad the two of you had that moment.”

“That—! That has nothing to do with anything right now!” Hinata practically shouted.

“And this interrogation of yours is getting increasingly meaningless, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda said easily, still so insufferably calmly. “So, I figure, if you’re going to waste my time...”

“Then what the hell was up with that torture scene?!” Hinata demanded impatiently. “Did you really do all that shit on your own?!”

“If I just say yes, will you drop the matter?” Komaeda asks, almost childishly.

“Why would you do something like that to yourself?!”

“As a form of self-flagellation, maybe?” Komaeda says it like he’s guessing. “Or purification? I could’ve been trying to exorcise a demon. It just got a little messy.”

“With your blood?!”

“Was it my blood?”

“It was definitely your blood!”

“Are you sure?”

“What else could it have been?!”

“Hmm...”

“Komaeda, you’re not taking this seriously!”

“Nope.” Komaeda’s wide, bright smile was absolutely shameless. “And you shouldn’t either. Do you want to know why?”

Hinata, helplessly flustered and frustrated to the point of tears, could only humor him. “Why?”

“Because I did in fact plan everything. Everything that happened, from the fake bomb scare to the state you found me in—it was all part of my plan. And you know what else?” Komaeda didn’t even wait for his response, and instead shrieked, “My plan failed! It failed spectacularly and horrendously and there’s no recovering from it! I failed, Hinata-kun, I failed at everything I wanted to accomplish because of you! You, Hinata Hajime—you ruined EVERYTHING!!”

Hinata actually did flinch back.

“You ruined everything,” Komaeda repeated, breathlessly like almost he couldn’t believe it while the darkness in his eyes swirled and swirled into something tumultuous. “You ruined everything, Hinata-kun—you truly are the Ultimate Despair...”

“All I did was save you,” Hinata heard himself replying, and he sounded weak and pitiful. “What even the hell? You’re accusing me of causing despair from something like that? You wanted to die that badly? You wanted to die like that? If you really feel that way... If you really, truly felt that way...”

“Hi...” Komaeda blinks, irises still unsettled but also blank and dazed. Hinata saw his own hands reach for him—“Hinata-kun...?”

His thumbs barely brush against the tender pulse in his throat. Hinata feels just how thin that neck is as his finger wrap around it. He remembers Owari’s grip—and he sees that there are still bruises on the pale skin here. Owari’s fingers were—just a little thicker than his own...

“Hinata-kun...” Komaeda seems completely calm now. His voice doesn’t even shake, and he meets his stare evenly, defiantly. “Hinata-kun.”

Hinata’s completely still. He doesn’t squeeze, and he doesn’t pull away. It’s like he’s gone completely frozen and his brain just...stopped.

“Hinata-kun, I’ll scream,” Komaeda says, hissing with promise.

Hinata yanks himself away with a strangled gasp, his heel just slipping underneath him and making him crash harshly onto his back against cold, hard tiles.

It hurts.

He’s shaking all over. It hurts.

His breathing is rushed and harsh but it feels like he’s the one choking. It hurts.

His vision blurs—it hurts.

Everything seems to be shutting down—it hurts!

He’s panicking. He only barely hears Komaeda’s dull, uninterested drone overhead.

“Oh, Hinata-kun’s having an attack.”

It hurts. Hinata’s struggling to scream.

“Hinata-kun, your face is turning purple.”

His face is damp with tears and sweat, and his nails are scraping and scrambling against tiles as he tries and fails to push himself up. It hurts. Help.

“Hinata-kun.”

Help.

“Hinata-kun.”

Please help.

“Hinata-kun...”

PLEASE HELP ME!!!

“Hinata-kun.” A cold, almost skeletal hand closes around his from where it’s fruitlessly reaching. It squeezes, and with a choked-up sob, Hinata squeezes back. “Breathe.”

It’s difficult. It’s difficult, but he manages.

“In and out, Hinata-kun. It’ll be troubling if you suffocate now and I get blamed for it, you know?”

Hinata breathes. He nearly chokes.

“How careless and selfish can you be, I wonder? Reserve course students shouldn’t be this troubling. You really are a disappointment.”

Hinata nearly tightens his grip on that hand—but he takes in another breath, and he breathes. In, and out, in, and out, in—

“Ah, Hinata-kun, you’re really starting to hurt me. Do you want me to be with two bad hands? How heartless of you. You’re really...”

“Shut...!” Hinata gasps, swallows, and then pulls himself up. His vision spins for a minute but he shakes his head, and he musters up a tearful glare at Komaeda’s straight-lipped, unimpressed face. “Just shut the hell up, Komaeda.”

Komaeda is, of course, unmoved. “Do you still need my hand, Hinata-kun? Because I need it, too.”

Hinata releases him with a scowl. He yanks his own hand back as though it’d been burned, and it was tingling. He rubbed at it, and groans.

(He wouldn’t admit this now or ever, but before he let him go, there was a solid few seconds where he hesitated. Where he hadn’t wanted to let go—and even the part of him that would’ve acknowledged that, would’ve been quick to wave it away with a case of fear. He only ever approached Komaeda due to fear once he learned the truth. That’s all there was to it. Right? Right.)

“I’m really not going to get anything out of you, am I?” Hinata asks, low and almost despondent. “I’m...just wasting my time.”

“He does learn!” Komaeda exclaims with awe and mock-surprise, hands pressed together “Oh, Hinata-kun, you finally understand! After how long?”

Hinata glowered, but it soon faltered as his gaze fell to Komaeda’s hands—to all the bandages wrapped around his right. When his gaze lowered even more, he almost let out a hiss at realizing that the way Komaeda was sitting caused the robe to ride up, exposing his bandaged thighs. He can’t begin to imagine how wretched the scars would be.

That is, if Komaeda survived that much longer. That is, if Komaeda didn’t try something like this again and succeed.

How can you smile like that when like this? If—if this is really your own doing... Then...why? Why would you want to die like this? If the spear hadn’t gotten stuck, you would’ve been impaled, too, and there’s no way you would’ve survived—

“...Komaeda... Does it hurt?”

“Your grip had been rather tight, but it’s fine now,” Komaeda says, and he smiles. “No worries.”

“That’s...” Hinata hesitated. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” Komaeda asks with a tilt of his head. Hinata’s stare drops—or it would have, had his eyes not gotten caught on all the tubes taped to those long, skinny arms. He swallows, but Komaeda goes on without a care. “What is it you meant, Hinata-kun?”

“Those injuries...” he mumbled. “Do they still hurt? I... It looked really bad when I found you... Most people would’ve died from blood loss, but you...”

You really inflicted all that on yourself...?

“It’s not as agonizing as before—but maybe that’s the pain medication, or maybe that part of my brain shut down. I’m not sure!” Komaeda’s so cheerful as he exclaims that. “It doesn’t matter—they’re not going to kill me, after all.”

“They could have...” Hinata swallowed. “If I hadn’t shown up when I did... You could’ve...”

“That doesn’t matter,” Komaeda said simply. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

Despite the brightness of the smile, despite the wideness of that grin—there was no doubting the stony resentment underlying those words.

Still...

“Yeah,” Hinata just agreed with a cold, cold nod. “Yeah, you are. Thank god.”

--

He ends up leaving without another word. He had his answers—not enough of them, but he had some. Honestly that was more than he even expected.

He feels exhausted. So beyond exhausted, but he has to keep guard.

“Hinata-kun...? Uu...”

He’s really not in the mood so he just ignores Monomi and her pitiful stare.

“U... Um...” She hiccups. “It must have been awful...so, so awful... But thank goodness the two of you survived... I’m so glad...”

“No thanks to you,” he huffed. She flinched. “It’s because of you that we’re on this damn island in the first place. Hell, it’s because of you that we don’t remember and what we don’t remember is what...”

...what Komaeda’s so angry about...what could that possibly be? What did he find out?

He has half a mind to go break into Komaeda’s cottage for more clues, but when he thinks about how Komaeda looked ready to cry, he feels almost disgustingly ashamed with himself.

Even though it’s that guy—even though he did all of this... Even though there’s no way someone like him would ever care...

Except. Komaeda had let him hold his hand. Komaeda told him to breathe. Even if it was just to avoid the trouble, he did that, too.

He was the first one to offer him a hand, but also the one who started the killings. He helped them during the trials, but he needlessly confused and aggravated them, too. He had smiled at him so openly, so innocently—and he had looked down upon him as if he were nothing more than filth.

Someone like that—who we all hated and thought several times over we’d be better off without—wanted to die so badly.

Just how the hell had things gone so wrong?

He wanted to cry, too.

I won’t let him die. The thought is almost fervent. I’m never going to let him die. No matter what I have to do—I won’t ever just let Komaeda die. Not until he’s answered for all he’s done. But—even then, I... I don’t...

Hinata buried his face into his knees.

“H-Hinata-kun?”

“Upupupu, such delicious despair!” He hears the bounce of Monokuma’s arrival. He hears Monokuma’s panting. “Like a siren’s call!”

“Eek! What are you doing?!” Monomi shrieked. “L... Leave him alone! Isn’t this enough?!”

“Ohhh? What’s pissed your diaper, baby sister?”

“S... Shut up!”

“Ohhhhh?”

He can’t be bothered to care about the mascots bickering. Even when he hears Monomi yelp from having her ears pulled. Monokuma terrorizes her as always and he’s just tired of all of it. The only thing that mildly concerns him is the fact that their ridiculous back and forth could wake up Komaeda.

If Komaeda was even sleeping at all.

Maybe...I should’ve waited...? Aha. Haha. What the hell, me? It’s not like Komaeda would appreciate that—he called you Ultimate Despair just for saving him.

Ultimate. Despair.

Hinata jolted up. Monokuma was still kicking Monomi, but he did get their attention.

“I remember hearing about the World Destroyers, the Future Foundation,” he finds himself rambling. “But—has there ever been anything called the Ultimate Despair?”

The crimson of Monokuma’s eye gleamed, and Monomi recoiled so violently.

“W-Why are you asking that, Hinata-kun?!”

“Yes, Hinata-kun,” Monokuma said, so cheerfully calm. “Whyever do you ask?”

Hinata opened his mouth and then he shut it.

It’s not just Komaeda’s mad ramblings... Ultimate Despair... He called me that—for a reason.

“It’s something I remembered dreaming about.” The lie tastes like nothing. “That’s all.”

“Sounds like quite the despairing nightmare, hmm?” Monokuma asks. “Goodness! They grow up so fast!”

The hell does that even mean? No. Honestly. I don’t fucking care. I have enough on my plate trying to figure out Komaeda. I know for a damn fact that Monokuma takes joy in frustrating and infuriating others.

“I-It’s just a nightmare,” Monomi whimpered. “J-Just an awful, awful nightmare...”

“Hush, Monomi!” Monokuma stomped on her harshly. “Don’t interrupt this very important conversation!”

What Komaeda said was significant—Monokuma likely knows the truth behind it... But I shouldn’t trust him to tell me anything. Not for a second.

“What’s so important about it?” he finds himself asking anyway, but he keeps up his guard.

“Weeeeeell,” Monokuma sing-songs, and that red eye gleams brightly and maliciously. So much so that it’s almost blinding. “If you really want to knoooooow, I can just tell you outriiiiiiight.”

“N-No...!” Monomi’s gasp is barely above a whisper.

Of course I know it won’t be that easy, Hinata thought dully. If it were—that would be boring.

...

...

...boring?

Hey.

Hey, hey, hey.

Where the hell—did that even come from?

He feels cold. But he wonders if that’s a trick of the mind, if he really feels anything.

“Actually.” He barely even hears himself right now. “Never mind. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Oh?” Monokuma tilts his head. “What’s up with that face?”

What face? I don’t feel anything.

“Hinata-kun...?” Monomi pushes herself up weakly. “U-Um... Um...?”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all. Both of you exhaust me. You...”

Bore me.

“Annoy me. So I’m done.”

“Huuuuh? Hinata-kun?”

“Hi...nata-kun...?”

Hinata opens the door to Komaeda’s room, and he slams it shut so that it’s between him and them. After that, it’s quiet. He can’t hear anything, anything at all—except a soft sigh. Softer shifts.

Blinking, Hinata turns to Komaeda, sleeping after all. He looks peaceful. Serene. Even when covered in those bandages. Hinata feels his lips twist, but he’s not quite sure what they twist into.

Komaeda...you really do cause a lot of problems, don’t you? But at least you’re still here. That’s all that matters.

He strides forward, idly brushing Komaeda’s hair back, watching him sleep on. Like this, he really does look so innocent. The ivory strands are finer than they look. Funny, that.

Hinata inhales. Exhales. He feels...strange. So strange. He’s not sure if he feels like himself or not.

Things just feel—strange.

It’s late. Something’s flickering. It’s strange, it’s strange, it’s strange.

Tomorrow—we’re going to get to the bottom of everything. Tomorrow... Komaeda will still be here and he’ll help us, whether he wants to or not.

Cupping Komaeda’s face, his thumb runs over that swollen lower lip.

We’ll get out of here all together. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

That must bring you such despair. And it’s okay. It’s okay. As long as you’re still here.

Hinata kneeled down, laying his head on the bed where Komaeda slept without a care. It really was funny. Like this, the two of them matched with their bandages. They were similar.

Tomorrow... We’ll all be together. You, me, and everyone else. I’m sure of it.

With that, his eyes fell shut and the world unraveled just a little further. With Komaeda’s bandaged hand in his, he didn’t feel anything else.

[the-mf-bread-babies]

loneliness </\///\|/3

a fic by rocco wulfram north, m.d.

(found that name on hardcore baby names)

–chmapter jop–

before the tríp

It was a normal day for the Skullsmashers: go to somewhere, kill people, be gay, sleep, get brunch. Right now was the first part of their daily routine, and they were getting ready for it.

“holy fuck nova could you hurry the shit up i have to brush my fucking teeth you bitch” Ace hissed, knocking repeatedly on the bathroom door. “Fuck You. I'm Going To Go To Hell Itself” Nova gargled back, mouth full of mouthwash. More banging was heard; the door had seen better days.

Several feet away was Jake, all dressed up and ready to go, waiting for the others to get ready. He sat on the couch gayly in the living room down the hall, scrolling through Apocalypse Twitter. ‘every day i throw down an unpeeled boiled egg from the rooftop to simulate fear and unreadiness’ he read, a tweet from Orc's account. What the fuck. Classic Orc.

“ah fuck !! am i late !!” Jake turned around to see Damon panicking and counting the daggers in his pockets. “no no not at all. i just get ready really quickly to throw everyone into a state of disarray” Jake replied in an honest, monotone voice. “come sit down”

Damon sat down nervously next to his captain, knowing he'll ask him for Bambi on the PS2 now. “look. look at them those dumbshits” Jake uttered, pointing to Ace and Nova arguing. “those little bastards are completely unaware that ive put a fake cockroach puppet in the mirror. watch now” he added, pulling out a cheap remote control and pressing a button.

*sound of glass breaking* Jake sighed. “okay maybe that wasn't really the best idea” Nova screamed, running out of the bathroom and confusing Ace. “Fucking Roach!!!!!!!!!!!!!” she yelled, already too far away from them to be heard clearly. “huh. well okay then!” Ace grinned, going into the bathroom.

“i'll guard. you do your thing okay? :-)” Damon said to Jake, smiling mischievously. Jake's heart skipped a beat as he was suddenly flustered by the killer's action. «oh god, shit's just gonna get more complicated from here» he thought, staring into nothingness.

Damon braced himself against the bathroom door, eager to hear Ace's chaotic screaming. “ready ??” Damon asked, sending Jake back to the real world. “hhuh??????? oh yea right” he mumbled before beginning to control the cockroach with the remote. “this shit cost me like 200 bucks so it better be worth it”

HOLY MOTHER OF

F U C K

JAKE JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

WHAT THE S H IT DUDE

ace will remember this.

Jake cackled loudly, rolling on the floor and hitting the table with his fist. “LMAOOOOK FUCK YOUUU” he yelled, angering Ace even more. “I WILL GODDAMN SKIN UOUR FUCKIGN ISTINEDSTINES OLD MAN I SWEAR TKC FUCKF” they yelled back, pushing the door repeatedly. “IM GOIND TO FUCKIGN DIR HERE YOU BITCH”

“ah . ace ? could you move a little please ? i'm trying to get in ?” Damon said annoyingly kindly, making Ace jab a fake knife through the space between the door and the doorway. “THIS IS THE BEST FUCKIGN KNIFE I HAVE ON ME RIGT NOW BUT PLEADR JSUT FUCK O F F”

“hm ... i'll have to check in with the blacksmith today to know what this one's worth... possibly rusted here, though.... could also just be dirt tho.....” Damon mumbled, examining the knife. “FUCKING HEL P” Ace yelled in distress, his breath seeping through the door. “ace. brush your fucking teeth that's disgusting.”

“IM FUCKIF D TRYINF THERES JUST A FUCKGIFN ROSCH HEREERF” Ace explained fearfully, trying their best to get some pity from the other. “a what ?? don't think we have those here” “A FUCKIFN COKROSKC” “corrosion ???? how bad” “FUCK YOU A GODDMAND COKCROACH” “girls?? what?? are they milfs??” “HOW THEE DFUCKDB DID YEOU HEAR FTHAY WHATS DUCUNESKRHI”

Jake's hand slapped against Damon's shoulder as a way of saying thanks. “good work out there soldier. us skullsmashers really need someone like you damon” He said confidently, disguising his flirting as a compliment. “cool !! you too man !!” The shorter man replied, completely unaware of the flirting and continuing to yearn for the mutual love between him and Jake. fuckin idiots lmao

“alrighty fuckers, let's move!”

Rachel's voice sent Ace and Nova into a panic, making them scram to look for their weapons and equipment. “Got everything ya need? W'ain't makin' any stops; tryin'a save fuel.” Shaw asked, leaning against the wall at the entrance menacingly. “When the fuck did you even come here.” Dennis asked in surprise, carrying suitcases. “Hmph. Man never tells his secrets, young man.” She replied, tilting her cowboy hat. “What…”

Aaron was sitting peacefully in the trunk of a pickup truck they had, only to be met by a large backpack to the face. “ah!!!!!!!! very sorry!!!!!!! we'll be going in separate vehicles, and trunk space is very much needed!!!!!!!!” Whitney said, apologizing. “Ah. Well. O-okay then.” Aaron stuttered out, holding back tears from the painful impact the backpack had. Pretty sure he'll get a bruise from that.

Henderson and Rachel were waiting in the front seats of yet another pickup truck. To pass the time, they took very cringey pictures of each other pretending to be on Cowboy TikTok™. “Do one where you're pregnant with the truck's baby!” Henderson suggested, making Rachel flip the bird at her but begrudgingly agreeing with her stupid idea. “i literally would skin you alive.” She spat out, putting a pumpkin inside her shirt. “That's… literally so sexy, babe.” Henderson replied back, taking more pictures.

Meanwhile, Andre was busy explaining to Cyprus, who was in a small glass jar, that forcibly entering Damon's bloodstream and mutilating his entire body was not very nice, with Orc and Sarah judging. “YES BUT UNLIMITED POWER COULD BE RIGHT IN OUR HANDS ANDRE” “That'd very mean of you to do, and could actually probably kill you too in the process.” he explained to deaf ears. Well, technically no ears. Yet. “CYPRUS I KNOW IT SOUNDS STUPID BUT YOU COULD LITERALLY DO THE SAME BUT LIKE IN AN ELEPHANTS BODY DUDE” Orc suggested, only to be ignored. “cmon cyprus just pleaaaaase dont kill ppl ok”

Jake looked outside, then back at Damon. “well guess its time to move!” “yea ... but at what cost.” Damon replied confusingly, making a sad face. “did you know today is…” he started, then regretted saying anything. “nvm…” He turned away from the punk, sniffling and walking to Dennis and Aaron.

“damon” “??” Jake asked quietly, craning his neck a little before making the decision to leave the new recruit alone. Instead, he joined Henderson and Rachel in their odd activities.

“hey guys. i fucking miss sans.” Damon confessed, taking a seat next to Dennis. “My nose is bleeding.” Aaron pointed out. “ok. today's sunday. and you Know what That Means… Meant,” The boy continued, facing the ground. “Kanye West he…” Dennis began (begun???? idk). “… liked.” Aaron continued, also affected emotionally by the departure of not only Sans, but Komaeda too.

Jake stared longingly at the family, wishing he was a part of it too. He truly felt Ariel Little Mermaid's desire to become human. Seven Vagánias… that was a risk he was willing to take for him. He would shave his eyebrows off for that man, and he just might do it right now.

“Jake? Don't do that. Please don't fucking do that.” Henderson suddenly interrupted, surprising Jake. “do what” Henderson squinted her eyes, giving Jake a suspicious look. “That's the face you make when you want to do silly things…” She pointed out.

“You had that when you almost electrocuted yourself at that stable, you had that when you threw the dart at Scoran, you had that when you glued Marcus and Reese–” “OKAY OKAY I GET IT IM A DUMMY SILLY LITTLE BITCH BOY OK”

Rachel put the pumpkin back on the ground and went to the two friends, curious to know what the quarrel was about. “what's poppin gayboy!” She loudly asked, slapping Jake's forearm strongly. “i am in peril and shaking and crying” “daddy issues” “yget?” He explained, gesturing towards the Russells.

“ah. please clarify what kind.” Rachel said, knowing Jake has a very questionable taste for fictional middle-aged men, such as Sigma Overwatch and the guy from the cowboy game. “the fuckin. family one rachel” “look at em just vibing and simply being gay”

Rachel and Henderson gave eachother a look that questioned whether Damon and Jake were going to be a thing or not, since Jake's technically still with Andre. “Considering the fact that they adopted Damon, they could probably also adopt you if you wanted to.” Henderson suggested, knowing Jake wouldn't like this and would stupidly unknowingly accidentally confess his love for Damon to them both right then and there.

“what?????” “ew no thatd be fuckin incest or some shit what the fuck” Jake said, being grossed out. “what would be the incestuous part, jacon. we did not say or hint at anything related to incest.” Rachel asked, making Jake's hair stand up in panic. “fuCKIN NOTHING DUH” “BUT LIKE YKNOW I GET CRUSHES REALLY EASILY YEA??????” Jake explained weirdly.

“So there's a new one right now, huh…” Henderson asked… feeling like she was in Ace Attorney. “no!!!! no wait” “well yea– no.. but i–” “fuck You but yes” Jake grumbled. “ah no, we won't tell, obviously. it was just getting way too obvious, so we just wanted to hear it from both sides.” “WH” Rachel said mysteriously, getting into the driver's seat of the pickup truck. “okay guys let's go!!” She yelled out, starting the engine. “THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN??????” “BOTH SIDES???”

chapter dos

two four trucks

The journey to god knows fuckin where idk didn't plan i guess a fuckin cabin or smth idk was long and torturous, especially when Rachel said that cryptic-ass thing before going. What the fuck was that supposed to mean, bro.

sudden interlude for seating arrangements !!

truck 1: Henderson, rachel, whitney, CYPRUS

truck 2: jake, damon, marge, Andre, Aaron

truck 3: ace, Nova, Dennis

truck 4: sarah, ORC, Shaw, viper

truck two.

Jake awkwardly patted Marge's head in the backseat of the truck, avoiding eye contact with Damon and Andre. Of course he had to go on a three-day trip in the same car with his ex, his crush, AND his crush's father. God, he was pretty sure this was the lab rats' doing.

“cows.” Damon pointed outside, earning Andre's attention. “Holy– what are those?” He asked, taking his sunglasses off to admire the beautiful little cows. “Cows… we drink their milk and wear their skin as jackets…” Aaron explained, his eyes drifting from the road momentarily. “They can have best friends and stuff. Really nice guys. Also, they're expensive as hell.”

“Y–You do what. Their skin??” Andre asked, his voice a pitch higher than usual. “yeah and we rate them based on which layer it is. also, like their meat, expensive as hell. but still very cool.” Damon said, confusing Andre even more. “they also give us cheese and ice cream and whipped cream and stuff. underrated little babies. they deserve better.” “they also have nose rings which are punk as hell–”

“Wait, why the nose– cheese?! Cheese?! AND ice cream??!” Andre asked again, his mind attempting to comprehend the greatness that cows are. “Oh man, you are not ready to hear about pigs.” Aaron said jokingly. “What the fuck are pigs???” “Sausages, ham slices, bacon, lard, leather too, rotisserie–” “aaron please i'm gonna throw up.” “Oh, right. Sorry,”

Jake sat quietly in his seat, just now realising how much of his world Andre's missing. Sure, his world was much cooler, but do they have sheep? Palm trees? Penguins? Thought not, bitch. “andre do you know what a kangaroo is” He asked, breaking his silence like that one YouTuber.

“A what?” “kangaroo. some of them are buff as shit and they move by hopping. they cant hop backwards and they also keep their babies in little pouches attached to them and their bones and guts are exposed on the inside of said pouch. baby kangaroos are about the size of a jellybean, and the adults can box you”

“They what” “yea they're weird as fuck.” “its from australia so” “That sounds fake.” “oh man. wombats bro. quokkas. fuckin drop bears and flying foxes. PLATYPUSES!!!” “wombats poop in cubes and quokkas are always smiling” “Koala bears hold onto tree branches and eat their mom's shit, which is the leaves of said tree branches.” “Please stop what the fuck” “ohoho fucking GEESE” “GET IM JAKE MY NEIGHBOR HAD FUCKIN THREE OF THOSE BITCHES”

truck three.

The three sat silently, with the exception of Dennis, who was swearing at random times. “You call that a fuckin’ turn, old man?! HUH?!!” Ace's shoulders jumped, the sudden exclamations preventing them from sleeping through the trip. “This Is Probably The Last Time We'll See Each Other Alive.” Nova stated calmly. “i slept for like two minutes last night… didn't even get to wear conditioner today. unrelated but just sharing my struggles with you.” Ace said, shifting into a more comfortable sleeping position.

Dennis overheard the two talking, and opted to stay quiet for the rest of the trip, before stumbling across a strange sight. “FROG!!!” he yelled, waking up the duo. “he said fuck! he said the f” Ace yelled out while rubbing their eyes. “Are We Aliven't” Nova asked, stretching. “Sadly, no, but the good news is, I found a frog!” Dennis excitedly said, opening the car door.

“WHAT” “THAT SHITS GONNA POISON US WHAT THE FUCK” Nova yelled out, unfortunately not loud enough for Dennis to hear it. The man kept walking towards the creature that was technically an alien to them, and picked it up with watery hands. “DENNIS YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING KILL US ALL!!!!!!! DENNIS!!!!!!”

“So, you kids know how to handle a frog?” Dennis asked in a wholesome tone, alerting the two even more. “KILL IT KILL IT FUCKING KILL IT” “Oh, are you guys allergic to this little guy? Sorry, I'll put it in the dashboard instead.” “GET ITBOUT WHAT THE FUCK DENNID JESUS” “… Huh?” “POSIOJ DART FOGR” Nova shouted, hiding behind the passenger seat and being pushed by Ace, who was also going to hide there. “BITCH”

Dennis and the frog stared at them in confusion, hearing their horrified screams. “This is… a wood frog… not a poison dart… that one would probably die in this climate…” he explained plainly, his hands gently cupping the newfound friend. “oh. ok” Ace muttered quietly, while Nova maintained an awkward silence. “You can… pat them very softly if you want.” Dennis suggested. “Or spray the shit outta them. That could work too.”

Nova nervously held out her hand to pat the frog, then smiled in succeeding to do so. “Death Quivers Before Me” She said, proceeding to pat it even more. “can i do the spray thing.” Ace asked, their voice quiet as a whisper. “Yeah, sure. Go right ahead.”

*the frog was going to die so technically they didnt like fuck up the ecosystem or smth. do not attempt this irl.

truck four.

“What jolly tunes d'ya have on this here truck. Fellas.” Shaw asked, observing the radio. “uh, really, i don't think it'll be necessary!!!!!” Viper nervously said, only to be ignored. “NONSENSE! ONE'S TASTE IN SHANTIES PROVES TO BE A WINDOW INTO THEIR LIVES.” Orc said wisely, patting them on the shoulder. “i guess that's good advice, but really–”

TWO TRUCKS HAVING SEX. TWO TRUCKS HAVING SEX. MY MUSCLES. MY MUSCLES. INVOLUNTARILY FLEX.

“I SEE. A MATING SONG FOR YOUR SPECIES?” “my truck f### playlist,.,.,.” Viper tried to mute the speaker to no avail as most of the buttons on the control panel were very much broken. “I'm. Very sorry for this, pardner. But this doesn't sound so bad. I could put this in a jukebox…” Shaw consoled, only making them panic more. “im so f#ckig sorry” They said, before smashing the radio with a briefcase.

They all paused for a moment, unsure of what to do. “i have spotify…” Sarah croaked, holding up her phone. “they have lemon demon too, if you want…” She muttered, scrolling through the song choices. “does anyone want to listen to wet a–” “no.” “okay.”

The truck grew even quieter for a while, until Shaw gave a suggestion to pass the time. “Wanna play 20 questions?” “I'll start: how many folks have y'all killed?” Viper gave the assassin a horrified look, confusing her. “I think mine's around 150. No… 145…” She confessed, rubbing her chin. “Wait, or was it 160?”

“like six. do you like girls, and, follow up question, do you also coincidentally like short girls with long hair.” Sarah said without hesitation, stopping Orc from answering the first question. “Yes! I literally have a wife!” Shaw shouted happily, rolling up her sleeves to show Sarah her tattoos. “This one is her setting herself on fire and me getting inspired–” “ah, yes–” “That one was a total cover-up! Previously, it was the names of my exes, all thirteen of them, but now, it's my cat!”

After some time of receiving a bit too much RexShaw lore, Sarah finally got the answer she so desperately needed from Viper. This was the verdict that determines whether she could make a move or not. This answer could change– “i am gay and do not get attracted to women. thank you.” Ah. Back to more hunting. “I am a lesbian! High-five!” Shaw exclaimed.

And finally, the first truck.

truck one.

Loud country music blared in the truck as they drove by the snowy mountains of uhh. Winsnow. Like winter and snow. They had all chosen separate routes in order to cover more land and see if there were any new developments in the area.

“BRANDY!!! FETCH ANOTHER ROUNF!!!!!!” Rachel screeched as she drummed on the dashboard. “AND SHE FJSJS” Henderson kept driving, searching every inch of land for a rest stop to stretch her legs and also listen to something else.

“hendy.” Rachel said, getting her girlfriend's attention. “do you wanna buy that slime that cleans cars and stuff?” Henderson stared into the distance, pondering. “Hm. There's always the possibility of the slime disappearing under mysterious circumstances and turning up in the trash can the next day covered in saliva, so.” Whitney looked away, feeling attacked.

“yeah, that's a problem.” Rachel muttered, her hand instinctually moving to Henderson's. “Please don't crash the car.” She begged, looking sadly at her. “is there a domino's nearby. i heard they have that new peanut butter chocolate lava cake.” Rachel asked, cupping Henderson's face gently.

“Rachel. There's fucking mountains.” Henderson pointed out, gesturing towards their surroundings. “That shit will freeze.” Rachel put her head down in disappointment. “yeah. damn.” “MORE FLESH!!! MORE FLESH!!! MORE FUCKING FLESH!!!”

Oh yeah, Cyprus was here the whole time. “why does the metal say fuck?????” And Whitney too! “MIND YOUR OWN GODDAMN BUSINESS. FLESH NEEDED!” Cyprus yelled out, resembling a hungry toddler on a road trip.

“do you want like a burger or something......” Whitney asked, judging the spirit. “FLESH” “like are you more of a kfc or a mcdonalds guy” “NEED FLESH” She gave the couple a look, one that was kind of undecipherable due to her lack of normal face details like eyebrows, visible pupils, etc.

“So, three peanut butter lava cakes and one meat lover's… what else?” “ah!!!!!! no lava cake for me, i'm on a diet!!!!!! dirt and dirt only!!!!!!!!!!! also fish bones as a treat” Whitney corrected, her eyes searching for a nearby body of water. “Or, we could get Cyprus the fish meat, and Whitney the bones.” “sounds good to me!!!!!!!!” “FLESH”

…

“welcome to domino's! can i get your order?”

“three peanut butter lava cakes, please. that's all. thank you.” Rachel said, her seat switched with Henderson's, who was too nervous to order. “okay but they each take like three hours to make” “what.” “yea you can stop by like the grocery store up ahead” “fuck you for ordering this” “i–” “fuck off”

the grocewy stowe

The truck stopped by the front of the building, Rachel telling them to go in first while she searches for a good parking spot. Much to Henderson's disappointment.

“My lover…” Henderson said with fear in her voice. “it's okay… go along… i… i have to do this for you…” “for you all… i won't forget the good that you've done to me and everyone i've ever known…” “Rach, please don't go, I lo–” “you all are the kindest people… heaven may wait eagerly for you, but as for me, the ground trembles for its latest meal. fresh from the oven, i will enter the furnace…” “why the fuck would they cook you again” “because i'm TOAST!!” “haha”

“Kill Ronald Reagan while you're at it… I forgot which one he is but I'm pretty sure he's a total bitch…” “i will meet you doomguy” “heeeeeeeh” Rachel whined weakly as she slowly drove over to the spot she wanted.

MOTHERFUCKER.

A silver Honda Civic quickly made its way into there, angering the scientist. “not on my watch, fucker.” Rachel muttered, sliding the pickup truck across the road. She slammed her palm onto the car horn, which terrified even a murder of crows.

“huh wonder who that is” “hm anyway which fish do u like ???? :-)”

A woman who seemed to be in her late 40s exited the Honda Civic, throwing a rather large and flashy boa around her neck. “Jesús, ít's cold in hère,” The lady commented, putting on a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses. “Márie, come along, ma cheghhy!” (i forgot how to spell it)

oh, son of a B I T C H .

it's the french lady who smells weird.

Of course, seeing your enemy in any circumstance that wasn't planned was clearly a little scary and will probably be your last day alive, but bumping into them at a Target was kinda… awkward.

Both the hazelnut and the dolphin were less armed and armoured than usual, and there weren't any bodyguards or security. Usually, if a top leader goes anywhere, the standard protocol was to do thirty separate background checks on the location and have it guarded up somewhere in the three months before their arrival.

So, obviously, someone in Top 50 driving around town in a decades-old car buying groceries isn't very safe, or probably even legal. Hell, she hasn't even seen them wear anything this ridiculous ever. Could this be a distraction? Or is it an opportunity?

Ah, wait, they're both wearing their stupid little marriage bracelets.

It's the middle of October.

This is their anniversary vacation.

Shit.

in the store

Henderson strolled through the aisles with Whitney at her side, hugging Cyprus's jar. She examined the cereal boxes to make sure they didn't contain any food colouring that could potentially kill her.

Whitney, on the other hand, zoomed over to the meat section, licking her lips at the sight of a raw cod. “cyprus…… do you feel that? the need to devour a being???? the uncontrollable desire for energy that it transcends all laws and regulations placed on mankind?????? the growing hunger for power, one that's so strong it controls your every need????

a natural, primal instinct to become such a brutal being that no one, not even you, recognise yourself anymore. you look at yourself in the mirror and you feel like you want to destroy that, to put yourself onto the pedestal you belong on, to wreak havoc on the cosmos of all beings, living and dead, real and mythical, walking and extinct.

you know that you're the only who understands this instinct, the only one who follows it to this distance. everyone else may underestimate you, but in the end, you'll rise above them all. man's natural instinct is to become the ruler of all.”

“What the fuck, Whitney. Anyway, I talked to the deli guy and he said he could pay you to eat up some scraps if you want. You down?” Henderson asked, her trolley already full of snacks. “yea fuck it man” Whitney replied, walking over to the ‘staff only’ door. “im hungy as fuck”

parking lot.

Despite the growing need to kill the woman, Rachel was managing to control herself. Even though this was the perfect opportunity to eliminate one of them, she knows she'll be replaced by someone much crueler. So for now, she'll just stick to watching this lady consider which can of tomato sauce is better than the other.

Rachel parked the truck near the entrance and the Honda Civic. She kept an eye on the couple as she quietly made her way inside through the back door.

“So thàt's when Í saìd, ‘that's not a cactùs, that's a lámp!” Karén playfully said, her hand entwined with her wife's. Rachel was unsure whether to stalk the two or join her friends in shopping.

WELL, FIND THAT OUT IN THE NEXT PART,

B I T C H !! !! !!