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Mornings on the island were bad enough as it was, since every morning Hinata woke up on it meant another day spent on it. It was almost bad enough that he'd started to dread sleeping, but he couldn't force himself to power through staying awake all night when the day to day things on the island were already exhausting enough. There was just no winning, but Hinata tried to avoid just accepting that fate.
He at least tried to keep up damage control and avoid any sorts of situations that would exhaust him even more, but some of them were just...unavoidable.
"Good morning, Hinata!" Like this one. Komaeda had seen him walking past to the hotel restaurant, and even if Hinata knew not to make eye contact now, that didn't stop Komaeda from falling in step next to him. "It looks like it's going to be another sunny day, doesn't it? There's not a single cloud in the sky, not that there ever has been since we got here."
Hinata ignored him, but he already knew full well that Komaeda could maintain an entire conversation on his own. Regardless of if he replied or not, this was just what the walk to the front was going to be like. And Komaeda did in fact just keep talking about how nice the weather was, and during moments like this, where the topic was pretty normal, Hinata could almost forget what he was actually like.
"Are you planning on doing anything today? I know you'd rather talk with anyone but me, but--" Komaeda cut himself off suddenly, a never before heard event, and then started coughing hard enough he came to a complete stop. It sounded...painful.
Hinata could have just kept walking and left Komaeda behind, and he was sure most of the rest of their classmates would've done exactly that, but...it would have weighed too heavily on his conscience to not at least make sure he wasn't dying. He paused and turned, his and Komaeda's eyes meeting for just a second before he asked, "Are you alright?"
"I'm j--just fine--" Komaeda trying to talk through his wheezing was a kind of pathetic sight, and Hinata didn't know what to do until he finally stopped coughing. His hand dropped, and Hinata noticed some white flower petals falling from it. Where did those come from? "Sorry about that. I'm sure I'm doing just fine, but I've had this cough for a few days... I hope it doesn't worry you too much, although the fact that you checked up on me at all means so much to me! I'm so grateful to you, Hinata!"
And just like that, Hinata was regretting it. Unfortunately, he'd been caught by Komaeda's trap now, and had no choice but to keep talking to him. "It...sounded pretty bad. Have you said anything to Tsumiki yet?"
"Why would I?"
"I mean...she's a nurse." And also one of the few other people who would willingly interact with Komaeda.
But Komaeda just laughed at the idea. "It's not as if I could ask her to worry about something this inconsequential! And even if it isn't nothing, I'd just be wasting her time. I wouldn't want to be what's distracting her if something more serious came up."
Talking to Komaeda, even when he wasn't babbling some nonsense about hope and murder and sacrificing himself, was agonizing. How was Hinata even supposed to respond to him insulting himself like that? He always just awkwardly ignored it, but it was frustrating, listening to him talk about himself like that. "Well...there's probably cough medicine or something like that around here somewhere. You should pick some up."
"Oh, that's a good idea!" Komaeda's smile was bright, as if he hadn't actually thought of that himself yet. "Thanks for worrying about me this much, Hinata. Although that's a bit presumptuous... I'm sure I was just annoying you."
Hinata wanted to agree on reflex, but something stopped him. Was it because Komaeda seemed to be sick? Well, sicker than usual, at any rate. They were both going to be late if they just stood here talking, but--
Komaeda started coughing again, and this time he fell to his knees, his whole body shuddering. Just as instinctual as it had been to want to tell Komaeda he was an annoying pain, Hinata dropped down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?!”
This time, he didn't even try to answer. He was shaking so hard he had to keep both hands on the ground to steady himself, and the coughing turned to retching, and soon enough, Komaeda threw up. Hinata averted his eyes, trying to not actually look at something so gross, but from the corner of his eye it looked like it was just a mass of white. That...definitely wasn't normal, even for Komaeda.
Hinata just sat there next to him, trying to not watch as he rubbed Komaeda's back while he kept throwing up. Maybe it was just because they were outside, but it didn't even smell bad. What was he even eating?
Eventually, Komaeda grunted and sat back, wiping his eyes and mouth on the sleeve of his jacket. “Sorry about that,” he said, voice weak, and Hinata helped steady him. “I don't know why, but I just felt so nauseous all of a sudden.”
“Hey, you really need to say something to Tsumiki! Whatever's wrong, I'm sure she can do something! You're not healthy!”
“She can't,” Komaeda said simply, and then reached towards his pile of puke.
“What the hell are you--”
Hinata's eyes followed Komaeda's hand, and the sight felt like some sort of glitch in a video game or something equally unrealistic. It was a pile of flowers. Daisies, with perfect white petals and a perfect yellow center, surrounded by ever more daisies, as if they'd all been snipped off the stem and then dropped here by a rogue florist. But they hadn't. They'd come out of Komaeda's mouth.
Komaeda glanced over at him, staring at him with those single-focus eyes that only ever seemed to see one thing at a time. “Well? It's weird, right? I'm sure even Tsumiki hasn't heard of something like this before, so really, there's no point in bothering her.”
“H-how did you-- Where did--”
“Oh, I don't know. I've been coughing up petals for a few days, but this is the first time I've seen full blossoms.” He scooped up a handful of the daisies and held them out to Hinata. “Want them?”
“Hell no!” What was wrong with him? Puking up flowers and hardly even responding to it, as if that wasn't the weirdest thing Hinata had seen since first arriving here. What the hell had happened to Komaeda to make him act like this?
“Oh well. I figured since this was the first time for full flowers, it must have meant they were for you.” Komaeda gently shrugged off Hinata's hands and stood up, letting the flowers fall from between his fingers. They fluttered in the air as if they were dancing, and Hinata just stared, dumbfounded. “I think I'll skip breakfast today, so can you tell everyone that? I know they can get nervous if they don't know exactly where I am and what I'm doing, and it'd be embarrassing if that happened in front of anyone else.”
“Wh-where are you going?”
“The library. I think I want to try reading up on what this could possibly be.”
“What if I just told Tsumiki you're sick anyways?”
“Why is that phrased as a threat?” But Komaeda smiled at him anyways, that same bright, carefree smile as if he didn't have a care in the world. “But it's not like she'd believe you anyways, right?”
He had Hinata there. If someone else had told him Komaeda was throwing up daisies, he would have politely ignored them. So he just stood up, trying to pretend the pile of flowers by his feet didn't exist, and said, “Yeah, whatever.”
“Anyways, I'll see you later, Hinata!” With that, Komaeda turned and walked the opposite direction, and all Hinata could do was watch him go. He didn't even bother turning back to see what Hinata would do. Every single thing Komaeda did was just so bizarre, from how he handled his almost-exile from the rest of the group to how he talked about his belief in hope and his good luck to how he...apparently simply trusted Hinata to go to the hotel restaurant and tell everyone what had just happened. He was confusing and hardly sincere about anything, and then other times he was straightforward in the weirdest ways.
Watching him do anything was always exhausting. Hinata just turned to the hotel lobby and walked in. Someone else could deal with the flowers.
Breakfast went pretty much exactly as Hinata expected, which was Souda being the first person to notice Komaeda wasn’t showing up.
“Where is that creep anyways? He's not planning on starting something again, is he?”
“He, uh,” Hinata spoke up, and then hesitated when every pair of eyes in the room turned on him. “I saw him while I was walking up today and he said he was skipping breakfast.”
“What, so he can start scheming for another way to try and get us all killed or something?!”
“Um, Souda…” This time it was Nanami who spoke up. “Don't you think you might be overreacting...just a little bit? Did he say why he was skipping, Hinata?”
Hinata hesitated again. What was he supposed to say here that didn't make him sound crazier than Komaeda? “Uh, he's not feeling well. He said he was going to be at the library, though.”
“D-do you think, umm…” This time Tsumiki's tiny, timid voice spoke up. “If he isn't feeling well, should I go and check up on him just to be sure…?”
“He said he didn't want to bother anyone, so he'd probably just turn you down if you tried.”
“What are the two of you doing, wasting worry on someone like him? God.”
And that was the end of that. Souda brought up a good point, though--why was he sitting here worrying about Komaeda? Why did he even care how he was doing or what he did? Komaeda had already set them up to fail before, and every time anything big happened it was impossible to predict what he was going to do, be it aiding Hinata's attempts to figure things out or intentionally messing up the issue. He'd given his explanations before--about love, hope, and friendship--but they didn't make any sense. Hinata had tried to puzzle them out before in an almost desperate attempt to try and see the kind and cheerful person he'd first met again, but it hadn't worked.
Maybe that was why he cared so much, he mused as he poked at the food he'd piled on his plate. Before the dramatic reveal of Komaeda's true colors, he and Hinata had been friends. Not necessarily close friends, since it had only been a few days, but still, Hinata had felt closer to him than anyone else. His cheerful, calm attitude had done wonders for keeping Hinata's anxieties in check, and while he was still cheerful and calm now with a smile almost always on his face and a carefree laugh behind his words, it was just adding to his stress, not getting rid of it.
Maybe, just maybe, somewhere deep in his heart Hinata wanted that Komaeda back again. The one whose talks about hope and friendship and bonds meant the same things anyone else's would. He didn't understand Komaeda, but he wanted to, to try and recover the friend he'd once had. And that was probably what set him apart from everyone else, who had completely severed themselves from Komaeda.
As the others finished their meals, they slowly streamed out of the restaurant, until only Hinata was left. They didn't have any plans for the day, and he knew he'd just worry about Komaeda until it ruined the mood of anything else he tried to do, so he pulled himself out of his seat, knowing how shameful it'd be if anyone caught him.
The walk to the library on the second island felt longer than it did the first time Hinata had gone to it, but maybe that was just because his eyes kept darting around as he silently hoped nobody would see him. As luck would have it, no one was walking around this part of the island, and he made it there without anyone trying to ask any difficult questions.
The library itself was a huge, imposing brick building, larger than any other library Hinata had seen, and surrounded by a garden. It felt like the kind of thing that rich people would have surrounded themselves with, and while his family had been pretty well off, they hadn't been that well off. The walk up to the heavy wooden doors felt kind of intimidating, like he was trespassing somewhere, but he pushed the door open with his shoulder and stepped inside.
Komaeda was exactly where he said he would be, sitting at one of the desks with a few piles of books and a reading lamp. Hinata shut the door behind him as quietly as he could, trying to not disturb him, and just...observed him for a few seconds. He hadn't seen Komaeda like this before, sitting silently and almost serenely, absorbed in his reading.
They'd had conversations before about Komaeda’s life, and something that had been casually mentioned was that he'd come from a very well off family. Watching him sit and read here, in a library that Sonia said outclassed her own national library, Hinata could believe it. There was a certain kind of elegance in how he held himself and in how his fingers turned the pages, one that was completely absent from a Komaeda rambling about hope and murder and about what a piece of garbage he was. Hinata almost didn't want to spoil the image by saying something to him.
So he...didn't. He just stood there, watching Komaeda read, noticing little details--like how the books piled around him seemed to be an even mix of medical volumes and books on the occult, how he tilted his head a little bit as he read, how his messy, fluffy hair framed his face like clouds did the sun. A quiet Komaeda really was such a rarity.
And then he closed his book, set it on one of the piles, and then looked right over at Hinata. “You can come in, you know. The library is free for everyone to use.”
Immediately Hinata's face lit on fire. He'd been caught. “Yeah, uh, sorry.”
“What for?”
“Never mind.” Hinata walked over to Komaeda's desk and pushed some books aside. “You skipped breakfast, so I, erm, I brought you this.” He set a plate of food down in front of Komaeda, and even though he'd been planning on doing this, actually doing it still felt humiliating somehow. “I don't really know what you like so I just kind of guessed, though.”
Komaeda smiled that bright, cheerful, completely meaningless smile of his. “Thank you! You should know I'd be happy with anything you gave me though, even if it was terrible!” Hinata wanted to snap at him that that wasn't anything but an insult, but Komaeda wasn't done yet. “You picked well, though. I like all this stuff.”
Hinata let out a huff and seated himself on the edge of the table. “Well? Did your research get anywhere?”
“Hmm?”
“You know. On figuring out what you're sick with.”
“Yes, actually! I found an entry describing it in one of these books. I'm actually amazed I found it so easily, since I've never even heard about something like this before.” Komaeda paused a moment to take a bite of food and then kept talking. “There really is so many books in here, lots I've never come across before, in every genre I could hope to want for. I guess I'm grateful for whoever set all this up. Of course, there's quite a few I have already read too, but it's important to have the classics on hand, right?”
“...And? What is it?”
Komaeda laughed, which struck Hinata as odd. “You wouldn't believe me.”
“I already watched you puke up flowers.”
“You don't even believe me when I tell you I'm only acting in the name of hope.” His words were accusatory, but his tone somehow didn't carry an ounce of blame. “I guess I can tell you if you really want to hear about it, though…”
Alright, so Komaeda didn't want to talk about it. “Whatever. How serious is it? It's pretty bizarre, so...are you going to get better?”
“Well,” Komaeda said cheerfully, “I think I'm going to die from it!”
“Wh--” Hinata almost slipped off the table, and Komaeda just kept eating. “What do you mean, die from it?! How? Why?”
“Oh, you're more upset than I thought you would be. Well, there is a cure, but… I really don't think it's something I'll be able to find on the island.” He was so calm. Calmly talking about how he was going to die of some weird ass flower disease, the same way he calmly said anyone on the island could kill him and he'd help. He was so calm, Hinata could feel himself getting upset on his behalf. “It's not going to be immediate, of course, so ideally I'll get killed by someone else first. A death by illness is about the most worthless death I could ask for.”
“Wh--you--”
“Is something wrong, Hinata? I thought you'd be happier to hear this.” Komaeda looked...genuinely surprised he was responding like this.
It wasn't like he necessarily cared about Komaeda or anything. Not when he'd tried to get them all killed, and said repeatedly he'd do it again it he wanted to. But seeing him act as though he thought Hinata would be happy to hear he was probably going to die from this made something in Hinata's chest constrict painfully.
“Why would I--” Anger came out first, but it wasn't Komaeda he was angry at. His voice softened, but the look in those four-leaf clover-green eyes didn't change at all. “Why would I be happy anyone told me they were going to die? Even you.”
“Even me, huh? Ahaha, I'm really not that well liked, am I?”
“That’s not what I--”
“But it should be something you can be happy about, Hinata! After all, if someone like me is just going to die anyways, it means you shouldn't feel bad if you kill me. Rather, instead of getting upset about it, you should be celebrating! A potential free pass to escape the island should be something that fills you with hope!” Ugh. That awful tone had edged back into his voice, the one that said loud and clear that he enjoyed talking like this. His eyes were bright and his smile was so wide, but it just sent chills down Hinata's spine. “If it's you and me together, I'm sure you'll succeed! It'll be the perfect crime!”
There wasn't any point in responding to this. Hinata could reject him all he wanted, but he knew it wouldn't do a thing to discourage Komaeda. He'd obediently shut up if Hinata told him to, or Hinata could take the more cruel route and just outright ignore him like everyone else did, but…
“Komaeda,” he started, and the very person he was addressing perked up eagerly for his reply, “why do you...feel like you need to go so far for us?”
Komaeda sighed and leaned back in his chair, leaving Hinata feeling like he'd just asked the stupidest question in the world. “I already told you, didn't I?”
Komaeda stood up from his chair and stepped over to Hinata. He was only a little bit taller than Hinata was, and he knew full well that under that coat Komaeda was thin and wiry, but standing here backed by the windows and bookshelves of the library, his presence felt much, much larger. Their eyes met and even as uncomfortable as it was to look into Komaeda's eyes that always felt like they were staring but not really looking at anything, Hinata couldn't bring himself to look away. “It's because I love you, Hinata.”
He said it so earnestly, so sincerely , that Hinata's cheeks started heating up. The first time he gets confessed to, and it was from Komaeda.
No, wait. That's right. Komaeda had said something like this before, that he acted like this because he loved everyone. It wasn't a sincere confession, much less one directed at Hinata in specific. What kind of idiot was he, getting all worked up about something like that?
“Yeah, you said you love everyone.” Komaeda's smile faltered for just a moment, or maybe Hinata imagined that. “But what does love have to do with killing yourself? I… I just don't understand.”
Komaeda didn't respond at first, not moving a muscle, and then said, “Do you want to?”
“...I don’t know.”
That response seemed to be satisfactory, because Komaeda shrugged, walked to one of the other tables, and dragged its chair over next to his. An invitation to sit with him.
Hinata took the new seat, a comfortable chair that would probably stay comfortable no matter how long he sat here, and Komaeda took his place again, pushing some of his books around to clear space for his guest. Komaeda's plate of food was only about half eaten, but he shoved that away too. “I've never been asked to explain my love before, not really. Of course, people ask me to explain and then when I try, they just seem to get upset about it, but I don't think it's any different from anyone else's love.”
His voice was gentle as it always was, with none of the aggressive force behind it that came out when he was talking about hope or luck or whatever the hell else, and his gaze was fixed somewhere on the other side of the library. For a change, Hinata was the one watching him, not the other way around.
“When you love someone, you want to see them do well, don't you? You want to see them accomplish their dreams and be happy, right? I'm just the same way. I want to see you succeed in all of your goals, and if I can, I want to help you! And it just so happens,” he said, still staring at nothing, “that your goal is to get off this island, and you have to kill to be able to do that. Of course I'll help. What kind of love would it be if I saw you wanting something and did nothing to help?
“Of course, it's easy to say you won't kill someone! The killers we've seen so far certainly claimed that, even after they killed someone! But you all seem so desperate. It's always possible that the first option we'd been given was viable too.” Usually, when he talked about something like this, his words would start gathering speed in his excitement, but they stayed slow, even, measured. Thoughtful, maybe. “If you all hadn't seriously considered it, then there'd be no reason to help you, right? I'm just trying to help you succeed in your hopes of escaping. Because I love you.”
It...made sense, in a weird, backwards, extremist way. From the outside looking in, Hinata could sort of get how that train of thought connected that way. His own thoughts would never jump to sacrificing his life for someone else's happiness, no matter how much he loved them, but if he just accepted that Komaeda was the type of person who thought that made sense, then…
“I...guess I kind of get it.”
“Really?” Komaeda perked up instantly, his eyes immediately turning on Hinata along with that happy smile of his. “I'm so glad! No one's ever told me that before!”
Hinata sighed, not sure if he'd made the right decision in saying he understood or not. “Just because I get it doesn't mean I'm going to act on it, though.”
That got brushed off with a casual shrug. “The offer will always be open. Especially to you.”
There wasn't any way to respond to that. Their conversation lapsed into silence, with Hinata examining the titles of the books on the table and not being sure he wanted to leave just yet, and Komaeda glancing over at Hinata, almost starting to say something, and then stopping himself and pointedly looking away. He'd been so at peace in the silence before Hinata had shown up, and now he just seemed to be filled with nervous energy.
“Hinata?”
There it was. “Yeah?”
“I had a feeling that you'd be showing up here today, so I...picked up a gift for you.”
A gift from Komaeda. The mere concept of what it could possibly be set warning bells ringing in his mind, and he was about to turn it down, but...Komaeda was still acting nervous, glancing towards Hinata's face and then away again, his fingers working against each other. He couldn't accept it without knowing what it was, but he felt like rejecting it was just as bad of an option. “What do you mean, had a feeling?”
“Maybe it was...a lucky guess?” Komaeda snickered at his joke and Hinata just rolled his eyes. “If you hadn't come by then I suppose the gift would have just become meaningless. Well, since it's from me, it probably still is, but… I'm just glad you came by!”
It really would be a lot easier to turn Komaeda down if he didn't sound so sincerely happy that Hinata had come to see him. “...Well, alright. What is it?”
“It's--” Komaeda broke off abruptly. “It's a surprise!”
In the space of three words, Hinata was already regretting this. But if it was something Komaeda was so nervous about giving him, maybe it wouldn't be...bad. He already knew the weirdo didn't have any interest in becoming anything but a victim for the game, after all, so…
“Here, I need you to stand up.” Komaeda was already getting up out of his chair, offering a hand to help Hinata up. Hinata ignored it, instead standing up on his own. “And...stand in front of me.”
Something about the look on Komaeda's face had Hinata suddenly nervous too. What was all this leading up to? Surely it...couldn't be like what it felt like it was going to be?
“Close your eyes, Hinata.”
His heart pounding a mile a minute, he took one last look at Komaeda--nervous and bashful, like a schoolgirl talking to her crush--and closed his eyes. “Is...this right?”
“Shh. You don't need to say anything.”
Hinata heard Komaeda take a step closer to him, the sound echoing in the quiet library, and he felt like he was going to pass out from all the anticipation. Not that he knew what he was anticipating. Then there was a soft rustle of fabric, and Hinata felt like Komaeda was much, much closer to him than before.
Maybe that I love you from earlier had just scrambled his brain a little after all.
He felt Komaeda take one of his hands, and his heart almost jumped out of his chest. His skin was cold and his fingers were thin and bony, but they were so gentle as they brought Hinata's hand up, fingertips ghosting over his skin. There was a soft click from something and then Komaeda turned Hinata's hand up and gently wrapped his fingers around something made of cold metal. So there was an actual physical gift involved. Damn.
Wait, what was he getting all disappointed about, here?
“Komaeda, what is--”
“You can't look yet, okay?”
“...Alright.”
Komaeda took Hinata's other hand in his, bringing it up to the other one that was positioned a little above his chest. And, just like with the other one, Komaeda gently maneuvered Hinata's fingers so that they were wrapped around whatever the gift was. It was smooth, cold metal, almost as if it was the handle of a--
Hinata's eyes snapped open right as Komaeda gripped his hands from either side and tried to stab the knife he'd made Hinata take hold of into his own throat. Hinata jerked back and a struggle began then--Komaeda trying to stab himself using Hinata's hands, and Hinata trying desperately to keep that from happening. Komaeda was way stronger than Hinata ever would have guessed and the knife kept getting dangerously, dangerously close to his neck.
That wild, gleeful look was in his eyes again and Hinata was cursing himself for letting himself forget that yes, this is what Komaeda was like, and that no amount of trying to understand him would ever work. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“Just like I said, Hinata! I'm giving you a gift!” Komaeda's breathing was heavy, but judging from that sick grin on his face, it wasn't from fighting against Hinata, his hands still in a vice grip to keep him from pulling away. “It's what you want, right? A way to escape, and a way to get rid of me, all wrapped up in one package!”
“I don't--” Komaeda jerked the knife closer to his neck, and Hinata pulled it away. “I don't want to kill you!”
“Oh, but you want me dead, don't you? It's okay to admit it, it's not like anyone else makes it very secret! Come on, Hinata,” he said with a bright smile and even brighter eyes, “kill me! All you have to do is stop fighting it!”
“Komaeda--”
“Hate me! Use me! Let your hope guide your hands!”
“Will you just--”
“Let me be your stepping stone, Hinata!”
“ I don't want you dead!”
Suddenly Komaeda's grip slackened and Hinata fell back, still clutching the knife desperately. Komaeda fell to his knees, coughing, and flower petals fell from between his lips--he was having another attack.
Hinata...hesitated. Komaeda was crazy, dangerous, and a liability. There was a small part of his brain saying that he should have just let Komaeda kill himself there. But there was another part of him still thinking about his words--how he said he thought everyone, even Hinata, wanted him dead anyways; that Hinata hated him so much that he'd be willing to get rid of him.
He tossed the knife behind him, and went to Komaeda's side again. Just like he had this morning, he sat next to him, gently rubbing his back as he puked up an entire bouquet of daisies. Komaeda already thought Hinata hated him, enough to drive him to trying to force Hinata to murder him, and guilt was already eating away at him for it. He didn't need to make it worse.
It could have been a touching scene, if not for Komaeda's retching. The sound was making Hinata feel sick in turn, but he'd already decided to commit to sticking with him. Komaeda had been his friend, once, and letting him think he hated him just didn't sit right.
Just like before, it slowly tapered off, and Hinata helped Komaeda sit up again. It felt kind of stupid to go from trying to keep Komaeda from knifing himself to trying to comfort him while he was sick, but…
...that was what friends did, right?
“Hinata…” Komaeda's voice was weak and scratchy, and Hinata almost wanted to tell him to stop talking, just so he wouldn't strain it anymore. “Do you…”
“Do I...?” Hate you? No. Want you dead? No. Care about you? Maybe.
Komaeda turned to him, all hints of his madness having apparently been tossed away with the knife. A daisy petal was stuck to the corner of his mouth, and Hinata automatically reached up and peeled it away. The simple action made the look on Komaeda's face change, just a little bit. “Was that a confession?”
“H- huh?!” Of all the possible things Komaeda could have said, that was the last thing Hinata could have expected. “Was what? What part of any of that could you possibly think was--”
“Oh, so it wasn't?” Huh? “That's too bad.” What?
But Komaeda just brushed some petals off his knees, clearly not caring enough about the bomb he'd not quite dropped to continue, and then smiled at Hinata. “It's too bad you didn't want that gift, though.”
“That's right! About that!” Hinata sat back, pulling his hands away from Komaeda, and frowned at him. Komaeda, of course, just smiled at him. It didn't seem like he was going to try anything else now, though. “What the hell was that about?”
“I told you, Hinata. It was a gift. It was a splendid plan, to be honest… Oh, but now that you know what it is, it wouldn't work a second time, so don't worry! I won't do that again.”
“You're missing the point. What were you...trying to give me?”
“I already said, didn't I? I wanted to give you hope of escaping. Although...that's not entirely correct. What I wanted to do was give you a scenario where you could have any choice you wanted to pick.”
“Huh?”
Komaeda sighed, and then turned to sit properly in front of Hinata. “Picture this. The knife slits my throat, and I die. Maybe I just overpowered you, or maybe you decided to let me overpower you. Given the circumstances, the only people who would be able to determine if it was a murder or a suicide would be you and me--not even Monokuma with his cameras would be able to tell in a situation like that.
“So, covered in my blood, you stagger out to the others and start telling them what happened. It isn't as if you'd be able to cover up your involvement in my death, after all. And from there, you'd have three choices. I'm not sure if you'd recognize you had them, but there would be exactly three.
“First, you could claim it was purely a suicide. That I forced a knife into your hands and then made you kill me. That could be easily corroborated by surveillance camera footage, so I'm sure voting me as the culprit would work just fine. No one but me would get killed.
“The second is that you could tell them you murdered me, and maybe you did! Or maybe the guilt of being directly responsible for my death would overwhelm you, and you'd falsely claim responsibility. It's not like anyone but you would know, after all. You could choose to be executed, the only other casualty of this case, choosing to pass the gift of hope from yourself to everyone else.
“And the third...would be to claim it was a suicide, wait until the votes had been cast, and then claim responsibility for it. I'm sure such a desperate act would be perfectly in line with what Monokuma wants from the game and, again, he wouldn't know if it was true or not. I'm sure you would be able to escape if you claimed that, and by sacrificing all the others, your hope and your hope alone would win over everyone else's.
“I wanted to give you the gift of these choices, while of course at the same time getting rid of an annoying pest. I wanted to make a situation where you were free to do anything you wanted to, and the only ones who would know were you,” he said, picking up one of the daises and absentmindedly plucking its petals off, “and me.”
Hinata sat there on the cold library floor, slowly, so slowly processing what Komaeda was saying. It was true--if he'd succeeded, Hinata would have been able to pick any outcome he wanted from the trial. And just like Komaeda said, this kind of plan could only be used once. Now that Hinata knew the details and the setup, there was no way he'd fall for it again. “Why…”
“Hm?”
“Why would you care about whether I ended up killing you or not?”
Komaeda laughed. “So that in my final moments of life as I bled out on the floor, I could finally feel connected to someone.”
“That's...not…” He was missing something. He was missing some piece of information that would make all of this make sense. “That's not the kind of connection I want with you.”
“You want a connection with me? Are you sure?”
“I want to understand you,” Hinata finally admitted aloud. “I want to understand why you act the way you do. I want to understand...why you tried to do that. I want…” ...to be your friend was how he'd been intending to end that sentence, but he wasn't sure if friend was the right word. Things felt more complicated than that.
“I already told you why, Hinata.” Their eyes met again, and something squeezed painfully in Hinata’s chest. “Because I love you, from the very bottom of my heart.”
Hinata couldn't just believe him. But there was some part of him that wanted to believe in those words. “But I ended up ruining your plan.”
“You did! I never thought you'd go for a fourth option and not kill me at all! And it really is for the best. I mean, can you imagine trying to explain to everyone else how exactly I got you to take the knife? After all,” he said, his smile turning sly, “who knows what you were actually expecting there!”
Hinata's face started burning and he tried to stammer out a response, Komaeda laughing at him. If they could just have normal conversations, normal jokes, normal laughter just like this, things would have been so much easier. It was what Hinata had been wanting, but now that he had it, it just felt bitter having it waved in front of his face even though it couldn't be permanent.
He'd been trying to convince himself for so long that he hated Komaeda, that Komaeda didn't care about any of them, that Komaeda always lied, that Komaeda acted out of malice and not out of love like he claimed. Hinata had told himself over and over after the first trial that the Komaeda he'd known had been an illusion, but it hadn't been at all. He really was exactly what he said he was--just someone who sincerely wanted to extend his hand to others and lead them to hope, to happiness, in his own way.
And that hurt, somehow. Komaeda kept offering himself as a sacrifice for the sake of others--to become a stepping stone for their hope of escaping the island--and only now did Hinata realize what a lonely, lonely offer that was. Just minutes before, he'd tried to force the issue because he thought Hinata hated him enough to want that result. The realization felt like getting splashed with ice water, a cold chill in the summer heat.
But if Komaeda thought Hinata wanted to kill him, maybe he could convince him otherwise. Maybe even convince him to stop offering to throw his life away.
“Hey, Komaeda.” Hinata heard himself speaking, and it took him a few moments to follow up on it. “I changed my mind, actually.”
“Oh? About what?”
“About…” He had to come up with a plan. A plan like Komaeda's, who he really had to admit was smarter than him. A perfect plan, or maybe an imperfect one would be good enough. A plan that would only work with Komaeda. “I...changed my mind about wanting to kill you.”
The words felt alien in his mouth, as if he was admitting to actually wanting Komaeda dead. It was sickening even just saying them, and the expression on his face--surprise, and then that same blank smile he always hid behind--made it even worse. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Hinata stood up and forced himself to not look Komaeda in the face anymore. It was like looking at a kicked puppy. Instead, he walked over to where he'd thrown the knife, the tip of the blade now wedged between the floor and the bottom of a bookcase, and pulled it free. It was a folding pocket knife--where the hell had Komaeda gotten this from? “But not right now. I don't really feel like it.”
“Well in that case, I'll be sure to come up with a wonderful plan once you do! Unless you already have one, but I'm sure if we work together--”
“But ,” he said, cutting off Komaeda's rambling before it could get worse, “that means you can't let anyone else get you first, alright? So...promise me that you won't let anyone else kill you first.”
It was stupid and kind of roundabout, and he felt like his intentions were too obvious. Especially with that stupid line about the promise. But Komaeda's voice sounded… restrained, or maybe resigned, when he spoke again. “So you really do want me dead, then?”
Hinata spun around to snap at him, but the look on Komaeda's face stopped him. He was always someone who was hard to read, hard to interpret, hard to understand--but Hinata felt like he could do all of those things right now. So he snapped the knife shut, slipped it into his pocket, and then held out a hand to Komaeda to help him up. “I'm saying I want you to live, idiot.”
The smile Komaeda always hid behind was a kind of blank one, cheerful and carefree and yet something that he kept on his face even when terrible things were happening. It wasn't that it felt fake or insincere, not exactly, since it was the same smile he had when he was joking around in his weird way, but there was still something not quite legitimate about it. But on hearing Hinata's words, that smile softened, and for once, it looked genuine.
He took Hinata's hand, and Hinata helped him stand up. His hands were still cold and bony, and for some reason, he didn't let go right away. “Ahh, this is just terrible,” Komaeda said with that truly happy smile on his face. “How am I supposed to offer hope to everyone if I make a promise like that?”
“You're a smart guy. I'm sure you'll figure out a way. You said you were only even trying this because it was what we all wanted, right? So what were you going to do otherwise?”
“Hmm… I wonder.” And with that cryptic remark, still holding onto Hinata's hand, Komaeda held out his other hand, pinkie extended.
Hinata just stared at it for a second. “What...are you doing?”
“Huh? Isn't this how you're supposed to make promises?”
The idea of Komaeda, of all people, still being one for pinkie promises seemed odd and oddly fitting at the same time. It felt kind of silly, since they were both high school age now, but Hinata held up his other hand and carefully linked his pinkie around Komaeda's. “There. I promise that I won't kill anyone but you.”
“And I promise I won't die for anyone but you!” He seemed so happy about making a promise like this. It was cute, in a kind of weird way. “Neither of us can break the promise, alright?”
“No problem here.”
And again, Komaeda didn't release Hinata's finger. “You know,” he said, looking right into Hinata's eyes, “maybe I was wrong. Maybe I will find a cure for these flowers on this island.”
“That's right. You never did actually tell me what that was all about.”
“Hm… Are you sure you really want to know?”
“I wouldn't have asked if I didn't.”
Finally, Komaeda let Hinata's hands go, and he stepped over to the desk, pulling a single volume out of the stacks. “I'm sure you've heard the metaphor that love makes flowers bloom in your chest?”
“Uh…”
“It's the kind of thing that only comes up in fairytales and young adult romance novels. Those don't really seem your style, so I'm not surprised you haven't! But this book says,” he said, tapping the cover, “that it’s possible to contract a literal version of that.”
You're kidding me, is what Hinata wanted to say, but it was puking up flowers. A weird, poetic, fairy-tale cause seemed just as likely as anything else. “So...how did you catch it?”
Komaeda caught Hinata's eyes again, pinning him to the spot like a butterfly in a collection. “Unrequited love,” he said, enunciating every syllable as clearly as possible, “and the cure, of course, is having that love returned.”
Hinata just stared at him. A fairytale disease with a fairytale cause and a fairytale cure. Was that the reason for all those...declarations of love? Asking Hinata if he was confessing to him? The lingering touches, the wanting a connection? Did Komaeda actually--
“Juuuust kidding! Really, you should see the look on your face right now!” Suddenly Komaeda's smile wasn't so genuine, and his laugh not quite as carefree anymore. “I'm just joking.”
“That--that didn't sound like a joke.” If there was anything Hinata actually hated about Komaeda, it was how he persistently covered up every single thing he said and hid it behind his laugh and his smile. It made it so hard to tell when he was being sincere and when he wasn't. Maybe this all really had just been the buildup for making a fool out of Hinata's genuine concern for him.
Or...maybe it wasn't. But how was he supposed to tell when Komaeda said and did everything with that same smile?
“But,” Komaeda said, his tone turning gentle again, “I don't plan on breaking our promise. I'll wait as long as it takes for you to kill me.”
“Guess you're gonna be waiting a long time then.” Hinata's voice was harsher than he'd intended it to be, but he was too irritated at Komaeda to care this time. “Because...I lied. I don't have any intention of killing you or anyone else.”
That just got him laughed at again. “I knew that, Hinata. I already know you're an honest, kind, and brave person. You really are too honest of a person to lie to anyone, even someone like me. You're honest to a fault, even!” Trying to read between the lines of Komaeda's words was exhausting. “That's an awfully scary look on your face for someone who just declared he wasn't going to kill me!”
God, Komaeda was exhausting to talk to. Hinata was trying so hard to try and understand him, try and connect with him, and yet here he was, putting up walls between them again so easily. One part of him wanted to yell at him for it, to just scream at him to just be honest for once in his life, but Hinata also felt like he understood him better now.
So he just sighed and said, noncommittally, “Whatever.”
Komaeda hummed something softly, dropping his gaze down to one of his hands, the one they'd made their promise with. He held out the pinkie they'd sworn on and said, “You're probably leaving soon, right? I understand completely. This is the longest you've ever forced yourself to talk to me, after all.”
“I'm not forcing myself to do anything.”
“Really, you're such a kind person! You really are such a wonderful symbol of hope. I can't wait to find out what sort of shining talent you have.” This felt like Komaeda's way of saying they were done talking now, and Hinata wondered what part of their conversation had ended it. “But maybe you're too kind? You're so kind it's making me feel sick. Just looking at you is making me ill.”
“Yeah, okay. We're done talking. That's what you want, right?”
“I never said anything of the sort.”
Irritating, frustrating, ambiguous. Komaeda could be sincere if he wanted to, but he clearly never did. Hinata came all this way out to make sure he was eating and not puking his guts out all over the valuable books and this is the thanks he got. Getting lied to about how sick he was and being told it was because he was lovesick, and then getting told that Hinata was the one making him sick--
Hinata spun on his heels and rushed himself out of the library. No, wait. What if Komaeda was being sincere about everything? The love confessions, the source of the illness, the fact that Hinata was the one making him feel sick. If he wasn't lying about any of this, if he wasn't lying about anything, then that meant…
The heavy library door closed behind him with a bang, but Hinata just kept going. There was nothing but nervous energy in him now as the big question of what if Komaeda really is sincere about everything spun around in his head at top speeds. He wanted to talk to someone about it, anyone, but admitting anything that had happened in that library was going to be impossible and he knew it.
Surely he just had to be overthinking it.