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Hinata slowly opened his eyes, wincing them back closed when the afternoon light blinded him. He gripped the clean, white bed sheets that by now were all too familiar to him.
Since he and the other survivors took their third option and graduated from the simulation with their memories intact, he was a frequent visitor to this particular hospital room. It was not always this room, however. For many weeks it had been the room in which the pods were kept, until Hinata figured out how they could extract their friends from them while still keeping them alive. Certainly merging his real memories with his virtual ones had its benefits, mainly for the vast skill and knowledge Kamukura had been manufactured to possess, though they did come at the cost of constantly recalling the atrocities he had committed.
But that cost was worth it. Just, even. To be able to continue to live life as if he had never hurt or killed anyone would be erasing the real pain that he had inflicted and endured himself. For Hinata—as well as for Owari, Souda, Kuzuryuu, and Miss Sonia—there could be no moving forward without acknowledging the past. That is why they all believed that they could revive their friends, and that if they could move forward, so could they. That is also why Hinata stayed in this room day after day, watching until exhaustion caused him to doze. He knew that if he was capable of coming back as himself, even after becoming Kamukura, and even merging their consciousnesses into one, that he could as well.
Komaeda could wake up. He would.
But even though Hinata believed this, it did not stifle the shock he felt when he tilted his head, opened his eyes once more, and found the hospital bed completely empty. IV removed, EKG flat-lining due to having zero input. How had he not heard it before now? Was he that dead to the world as he was resting?
Hinata panicked. He looked around the room for any clue of where Komaeda might have gone. The only evidence that he had even been there was the equipment in the cool imprint his body left in the mattress.
He could not lose him again—not before he told Komaeda what he learned. How after waking up in the real world, he finally, truly understood that odd mixing of hope and despair that seemed to constantly plague him. While everyone else had been completely repulsed and creeped out by Komaeda in the virtual world, Hinata wanted to understand. He just couldn't at the time.
But he did now. How could he not? Coming to both realize and accept the awful path he had been on, while still having faith that he could forge his own future. Acknowledging the past but not being hindered by it, while also daily being paralyzed by the fear that he could slip back into old behaviors. Old despair.
Maybe it wasn't the same as Komaeda's apparent cycle of luck, but Hinata felt it was similar. He had a lot of time to ponder Komaeda's actions, and the time he had spent trying to get to know the guy. The more he thought, the more Komaeda's insanity seemed to make sense. Perhaps analyzing his own relationship with his own sanity—whether the lack thereof was purely past or partly present he couldn't quite decide—helped him empathize.
He wanted to get to know Komaeda better. But he couldn't do that if he was gone.
Hinata ran out of Komaeda's room, looking for any clues of where he might be.
“Damn it!” Hinata grimaced as he noticed nothing helpful. Pivoting, he ran to the common room, hoping to get someone's help, raise the alarm, anything to find his Komaeda.
His? Hinata faltered slightly at the thought, but shook it away. He had no time to overanalyze the feelings behind unfiltered, panicked thoughts. As he turned into the room, he saw a blur of pink. Perfect. Panting, his words came out in a disjointed rush:
“Woke – bed – empty – he – Komaeda – he's – Komaeda's gone!” Hinata's red eyes looked at Souda imploringly, who seemed more surprised at his panic than his words.
“Woah, woah! Calm down, man. Take a breather, it's fine,” Souda waved dismissively, taking a swig from a water bottle. Hinata felt his rage mount.
“What the hell do you mean 'IT'S FINE'? Komaeda is fucking GONE!” Hinata seethed, moving over to Souda, about to pick him up by the collar when the Ultimate Mechanic flinched and shied away.
“Dude! Jesus calm the fuck down and let me explain, will ya? Of course Komaeda is fucking gone, he woke up.”
Hinata stopped in his tracks, relief flooding his features. That relief promptly melted.
“Why didn't you fucking wake me when he did?!”
“Hey, hey! Do you have any idea how exhausted you look all the time?” Souda gave Hinata a look. “We thought you needed the rest. Komaeda agreed.” Hinata felt his flared temper dissipate. “Besides, you needed the beauty sleep to face your boyfriend again.” Blushing, Hinata jerked and put up his hands defensively.
“W-w-what? Komaeda's not my boyfriend!”
Souda snorted.
“Yet. C'mon, man.” Souda got up and stretched. As he passed Hinata, he paused, moving his hand beside his face in a stage whisper. “The moment we got Komaeda out of that pod, and into that bed, we knew. It was written all over your face—when you looked at him there. When you could hear constant proof his heart was still beating.”
Hinata was stunned, and at Souda's last words he swore he could hear that faint beep incessantly droning in the back of his mind. It wasn't until Souda nearly turned the corner after exiting the room that Hinata found his voice once more.
“Where...where is everyone else?”
Souda paused, looked at the ceiling, and shrugged his shoulders as he shifted to face Hinata once more. As he replied, he twisted his pinky finger in his ear, “Same old same old. Owari's training—you know she doesn't want to let 'Old Man' Nidai down. I think I heard Miss Sonia say Kuzuryuu was going to help her change the bed sheets for the others. As for Komaeda...after he woke up, he said he wanted some fresh air.” With that, Souda was actually gone.
It took a few still moments for all the new information to fully sink in. Komaeda was awake and moving? It seemed too good to be true. No longer panicked, but still eager to find him, Hinata ran out of the hospital. As the sun warmed his skin, it seemed to him like literally no time passed at all before he found himself at the beach where it all began with Komaeda waiting for him to wake up in the game world. It seemed likely to him that if Komaeda were to go anywhere, he would be drawn here.
But Hinata didn't see anyone. He looked about, but no other being was in sight. Just sand, water, palm trees (with no monitors haphazardly “installed” because this was the real world), and the occasional piece of litter leftover from when Jabberwock Island was still inhabited. Sighing, he walked closer to the shore, enjoying the sea-kissed breeze. If Komaeda wanted some fresh air, Hinata could think of no better place. He racked his brain for ideas as he stared off into the seemingly endless ocean.
He blinked when he realized he could suddenly feel a presence behind him, but before he could look to see who it was, two long arms wrapped around him tightly holding him tightly. The arms were covered in long, green, baggy sleeves. Much too warm for this weather, but perhaps he felt cool because of his various ailments. They had tried to keep Komaeda as healthy as they could, considering he was terminally ill. Hinata relaxed into the embrace, until he felt something sharp lightly press against his throat.
“Hello, Hinata-kun.” Hot air breathed on his ear and neck, and gave Hinata goosebumps. His own breathing hitched.
“K-Komaeda...why?”
“While I was strolling around, I found this little souvenir. I thought I'd give it to you, like you did to me during the game. As thanks for keeping such a vigilant eye over me as I slept.”
“...Huh? What are you—“ Hinata stopped mid-sentence as memories came flooding back. One day, before the killing game began, he was using the Monomono Machine and he received a knife. He remembered being a little alarmed, but it had the Hope's Peak Academy emblem on the hilt. When he decided to spend time with Komaeda later that day, he gave it to him, the thought not even crossing his mind what it could have been used for. Hinata, at the time, couldn't imagine Komaeda being anything other than harmless. What came after, and what they learned about before, drastically changed that assumption. “—Oh.”
“Wow, you caught on pretty quickly. Impressive for a worthless reserve course student such as yourself,” Komaeda sneered. The blade pressed closer to his throat. Hinata was afraid to breathe, but also oddly excited. He was confused—he could feel a blush creeping up his neck. But why? Was it because he was frightened? It wasn't because of Komaeda's close proximity to him...was it?
No, that was exactly it, Hinata realized with a shuddering exhale. Komaeda's body was completely flush against his. He could feel the other's crotch pressing against his ass. While he knew the position couldn't possibly have been intended to be sexual, Hinata couldn't seem to get his other head to acknowledge that.
“K-Komaeda,” Hinata choked out, finally finding his voice once more, “Please...drop the knife.” He clenched and unclenched his hand repeatedly.
“Is that actually what you want, Hinata-kun? If I didn't know any better...” Komaeda cooed in his ear, and Hinata could not contain the shiver that ran across his entire body. “I'd say you're enjoying this. Your ears are scarlet. If you were scared, I'd expect them to be much paler, you know.” With Hinata securely trapped by the knife at his throat, the arm that had been physically restraining him relaxed, and its hand ghosted over the shorter boy's frame, gradually progressing south. Hinata held his breath. “Maybe I shouldn't be surprised...you did consent to Hope's Peak cutting you open over and over just so you hide that you were talentless.”
“That's not—“ Hinata started, pausing to calm his voice. “What do you want, Komaeda?”
“Oh, I just wanted to test a theory I had,”—Hinata could not believe how nonchalant he could sound while holding a knife to someone's throat—“I may be worthless trash, but it seems I was right.”
“Right about what?” Hinata bluntly asked, wanting the other to cut to the chase, whether it was attempting to kill him or whatever.
What he didn't expect was for Komaeda to lean in even closer, until his mouth was directly whispering into his ear:
“That you gave me that knife because you wanted me to use it on you. Sorry about the delay.”
This was it. This was how Hinata was going to die. His thoughts were racing about how he didn't even get to have a civilized conversation with him, their reunion involved mockery and a knife. Was Komaeda that overcome with despair? How could he be so stupid?
Shutting his eyes tight, Hinata gritted out: “Just get it over with.”
“My pleasure,” Komaeda whispered.
Hinata braced himself for a searing pain to his throat, wet sticky fluid running from the wound, bleeding out on and dyeing the sand.
But that never came.
The knife moved, yes, but downwards. Hinata felt Komaeda's other hand move back up, and a slight tugging at the back of his neck. The sound of ripping fabric invaded his ears, and then the tugging at his neck fell. Before he had time to process that Komaeda cut his necktie instead of his throat, Hinata was pushed to the ground, landing on his side. He groaned, trying to get up but Komaeda was already on top of him, legs straddling his body. His free hand pushed Hinata onto his back, while the one he assumed still held the knife steadied his white-haired assailant. Confused, red eyes poured into creepily warm, gray ones. Those red eyes widened as the gray ones inched closer and closer until the only thing keeping the two sets apart were their respective owner's nose.
“K..Komae—“ Hinata's question was silenced when Komaeda closed the remaining distance between the two, his pale lips pressing firmly against Hinata's. Hinata watched as Komaeda's eyelids fluttered closed, the hand not supporting his weight moving to cradle Hinata's face.
To say Hinata was shocked was an understatement. Part of him thought he could easily shift and escape. The other part wanted to know if Komaeda was fucking with him, or, well, trying to. He was leaning towards the former, until he felt Komaeda's thumb gently caress his cheek. With that, Hinata gave in, relaxed, his own eyelids closing. After a couple of seconds, he tilted his head slightly, returning the kiss hesitantly. At that moment, he didn't care if it seemed like a trick, or too unreal to be true. After all that they had been through, he needed something like this.
Hinata felt a foreign tongue brush against his lips once, then twice. That Komaeda was essentially asking for entrance into his mouth made him flush more, and he parted his lips slowly. A groan involuntarily escaped his throat when Komaeda's tongue unabashedly entered, mingling with and courting his own. He could feel his jeans tightening as his semi quickly became a full-fledged erection.
Komaeda pulled back, Hinata unconsciously following him. A string of saliva connected their mouths, but broke as their distance increased. Hinata almost began to mourn the loss of contact, but then Komaeda smiled. Not his condescending, mocking smirk, a genuine, warm smile. Hinata couldn't help but smile back. Then he laughed.
“What the hell, Komaeda? If you wanted to kiss me, you could've just fuckin' said so.”
Komaeda hummed, caressing his cheek again and murmuring a response, “It's much more interesting this way, don't you think?”
“God, you're messed up,” Hinata shook his head, but he couldn't stop smiling.
Komaeda adjusted his position, until he was sitting directly on Hinata's groin. There was no way he could even pretend to hide his arousal. Licking his lips, Komaeda pushed his ass downward, and Hinata inhaled sharply. His head fell back against the sand, breathing to try to retain what little dignity he had left. He opened his eyes again, and saw brief glint of light out of the corner of his eye.
The knife. Again. Fuck.
Before he could even react to push Komaeda off of him, the knife was already against his chest. He grabbed Komaeda's wrist with his hands. He just looked down on him, amused.
“You know if you struggle against this, I might actually hurt you.”
Puzzled, Hinata relaxed his grip for just a moment. That was all Komaeda needed, it seemed, to accomplish what he had intended. Komaeda flicked his wrist, Hinata flinched and expected a sting. Instead he just felt his top button pop off of his shirt. Hinata opened his eyes and gaped. Komaeda, seeing this, smirked and winked at him. Hinata's arms fell back down to his sides.
Komaeda just leisurely moved down, popping off button after button with the knife. As he reached the last button and began to cut the thread, Komaeda seemed to “accidentally” press his behind firmly against Hinata's contained cock. The sudden stimulation caused Hinata to jerk, and with a sharp pain to his belly, he yelped.
“Whoops. Clumsy me.” Hinata noted that Komaeda didn't actually sound apologetic. Hinata glowered at him, feeling a bit of blood begin to pool on his stomach. “I told you not to move, Hinata-kun.” Hinata still didn't seem impressed. Sighing, Komaeda placed his hand against his head and shook it. “Well, there's no erasing reality. I'll take responsibility for my mistake.” Raising an eyebrow, Hinata just waited for Komaeda's next course of action.
Which, as it turned out, was to lean down and kiss the shallow cut. Hinata watched, transfixed, as the kiss became more sensual, licking at the wound, eventually closing his mouth around it and sucking gently. Hinata moaned at the sensation, and the sight of his blood painting Komaeda's lips was oddly erotic. Was he this fucking kinky naturally, or did he have Enoshima to “thank”? He had no idea. He just knew this felt amazing, and he was getting lost to the moment. Looking down with half-lidded eyes, Hinata saw that when Komaeda pulled away, he looked directly at him and licked his lips. Some blood still remained on them, however. Komaeda smiled again, and reached around Hinata, pulling and cradling him. Hinata could feel the knife flat against his back, but he wasn't sure if the fluttering he felt in his chest was from fear or excitement. Maybe a bit of both?
Hinata found himself placed securely on Komaeda's lap. Blushing furiously he realized that he wasn't the only guy on the beach with a raging boner. Something snapped within him, and he couldn't hold himself back anymore. Couldn't hide from himself that somewhere along the way, he had grown to care for and desire Komaeda, and Komaeda seemed to return his feelings. Even though he had a really fucked up way of expressing it. Hinata gripped the back of Komaeda's neck and pulled him close. As they deepened the kiss, Hinata could taste the distinct hint of iron from his blood. There was an inkling in that back of his mind that that should probably be a turn-off, but it was having the exact opposite effect.
Komaeda used the hand not holding the knife to tug Hinata's shirt off, and Hinata shivered at being exposed to the open air. It was sunny and warm, for sure, but the cool ocean breeze still raised goosebumps on his skin—though it was probably also working in tandem with the anticipation he was feeling. After the shirt was removed, carelessly tossed unto the nearby sand, Komaeda placed his open palm firmly on Hinata's back. He pulled his lips away from Hinata's, and moved his hand with knife between them. Swiftly he flipped the weapon so he was carefully holding it by the blade, offering the handle to Hinata, who blinked a bit in bewilderment.
“Your turn.” Komaeda winked at him.
Oh, fuck. Hinata's eyes widened, and he gingerly took the knife from the other teen. Komaeda smiled broadly, and it was infectious. When Hinata moved to start slicing down through his tee-shirt, pulling at it to make sure there was sufficient space between where he was cutting and Komaeda's chest, the taller teen sighed. At hearing that, Hinata paused and looked up, and he could see a faint flush on the pale boy's cheeks. Noticing that Hinata had paused to look at him, he sensually licked his lips, to goad and encourage him on. Hinata blushed, smirked, and then focused once again cutting his shirt open.
The sound of the ripping knit fabric was oddly satisfying to Hinata, but when he had about an inch above the hemline left, he tossed the knife several feet away from where the two were positioned. With each hand grabbing each side of the split fabric, Hinata tore the the shirt open, immediately after running his hands along the exposed chest.
“Ah...not going to give me some cuts in return?” Komaeda asked in mock innocence.
“Nope,” Hinata returned smoothly. “Probably some bruises, though.” After that comment, he didn't even waver in his decision to latch his lips on Komaeda's chest, sucking strongly with the idea of painting that canvas red and purple with hickeys. Komaeda gasped at the sensation, then a low moan erupted from his throat. His hands shook slightly as he held Hinata. The blond's mouth pulled away from his first “brush-stroke” with a pop, and he admired the look of the swelling, red mark he inflicted. He rubbed his thumb along it fondly, abruptly moving over to lightly bite on Komaeda's left nipple. He heard a sharp inhale, followed by drawn-out groan as Hinata applied suction on the teased nub instead. Komaeda's sounds were beginning to sound like music that would drive him insane—though he supposed he technically was crazy anyways—and as he continued to coax those gasps and moans out of the gray-eyed Ultimate, he moved his hands to pull the shirt and hoodie off of his frame.
“Hah, haaah, H-Hinata-kun.” Hinata was starting to lose himself in the moment as he listened to the tantalizing teen, forgetting their odd, previous interactions, the things that Komaeda had done—that he had done. All that mattered was the pleasure he was experiencing and providing.
Hinata pulled off—he knew how intense his red eyes must look at the moment—and he growled against Komaeda's chest: “Say my name.” He continued his previous ministrations, switching to the right nipple. However, he kept his eyes up on Komaeda.
“Haah, ha-haven't I been, Hi-Hinata-kun?” Komaeda smiled and chuckled slightly, although it was rather intemixed with his groans.
Hinata stopped, and straightened his posture. As he stared up at Komaeda, as if he were smaller than him, he could feel the Kamukura aspect of his personality slipping to the forefront.
“My other name, smartass,” he intoned, sounding bored.
“...Ah, Kamukura-kun?” His lips twitched nervously.
Hinata sighed, digging his fingernails into Komaeda's back, purposefully breaking the skin. Komaeda hissed, and despite the pain Hinata could feel the other's erection twitch beneath him.
“Try again, Nagito,” he corrected coldly. Seeing Komaeda shiver and bite his lip, Hinata waited for him to reply, dragging his nails in circles on his back, this time with only enough pressure that the pain would subside shortly after moving. When he didn't respond right away, he pinched his back.
“Hah! Ha...jime.” Komaeda's face burned.
Hinata leaned in to whisper into his ear, “Good. I'll give you partial credit for getting it right eventually. No full marks for you this time, since it was simple multiple-choice.” With that, he sunk his teeth into Komaeda's earlobe.
Komaeda gasped again, but since the two were cheek to cheek as Hinata sucked his earlobe, he could feel the other start to grin. Then, his laugh was right in his ear.
“Heh, the others weren't kidding when they said you remembered everything...”
Hinata paused, before elevating his lips slightly upward, and planted a kiss on his tragus (he couldn't help but think, “good job, you know the names of stupidly specific anatomy because you agreed to be Hope's Peak's gerbil.”).
“Not at all,” he murmured in agreement. He began to peck along the jawline, then gently pressing his lips to the corner of Komaeda's mouth. He noted that his method of expressing affection danced between sadistic and amorous. After all they had been through and done...he wasn't sure he could ever experience intimacy “normally.”
“Don't get lost in your head now, Hajime. If you aren't careful, you're in for a world of heartache.” Komaeda smiled, eyes twinking mischievously.
“Oh shut up!” Hinata rolled his eyes, and captured his lips once more. He could feel the vibration of Komaeda chuckling a bit. The embrace started slow and sensual, Hinata moving his hand to cup Komaeda's face. He mirrored the action, moving his left hand to cradle Hinata's face. His hand felt warm and oddly gentle, which made Hinata flinch for a moment for no reason he could fathom. But soon he got absorbed in the kiss once more, which gradually became more impassioned, desperate, frantic.
Komaeda's hand ghosted down Hinata's chest, stopping at and rubbing over his bulge. With a small moan into their kiss, Hinata grinded his behind down on Komaeda. Not long after, Komaeda expertly undid the button on Hinata's jeans, pulled down his zipper, and slipped his hand underneath the band on his boxers.
Now Hinata was the one making breathy moans, pulling away from Komaeda's mouth to lean his forehead against his chest. The sensations were too perfect, exactly the comfort he needed. He could feel that he was leaking precum all over Komaeda's fingers as he was stroked and teased repeatedly. On one stroke, however, he could feel that Komaeda started progressing further south, but then he stopped just as he was about to reach his pucker. Komaeda withdrew his hand, and Hinata groaned. The taller boy seemed to be reaching back towards the pocket of his discarded hoodie.
“Since you're insisting on seeing this through to completion...”
Hinata cocked an eyebrow. “Since I'm insisting? As if you're not participating.”
“You heard me,” Komaeda replied flatly, retrieving a tiny, capped, plastic bottle from his hoodie pocket. It looked like it contained a clear substance. Lube, obviously. He flicked the cap open with his thumb, and poured it over the fingers of his left hand. When he seemed sufficiently satisfied with the amount coating his digits, Komaeda dropped the bottle in the sand, and continued the task of stimulating Hinata's entrance.
He prodded carefully at first, and Hinata shivered at the cool, foreign feeling. He circled the hole, before easing his index finger inside. Hinata wrapped his arms around Komaeda, holding him to stay steady. Komaeda clicked his tongue in annoyance, and Hinata felt him tug his jeans down with his free hand. His exposed backside was now resting on Komaeda's still covered nether regions. Hinata buried his face further into his chest in order to hide his embarrassment, though he was sure Komaeda could feel how hot it was.
But Komaeda didn't draw attention to that, just focusing on his task. He slowly pulled it out and pushed it back in again, over and over. Never fully taking it out—somewhere in his memory Hinata seemed to recall that pulling out completely too much would agitate the hole. Interesting that Komaeda apparently knew the same factoid. He felt himself relax, breathy moans escaping freely, even as Komaeda gradually added more fingers into the mix. Eventually he could feel Komaeda curling his finger inside, searching. Hinata knew he found it when a sharp gasp slipped out of him. He caressed that spot multiple times, and Hinata hung on for dear life, knowing if he relaxed his arms' grip he would plop to the ground like blood spatter.
“Aaah, please...Nagito...” Hinata pleaded, needy despair creeping into his tone.
“Well, I suppose I can oblige...since you're begging so nicely,” Komaeda sneered, but then chuckled as he withdrew his fingers and slipped off his pants and underwear with one hand (the other he was using to hold Hinata steady). He moved his still slick fingers and palm along his length, picking up the bottle and using the bottle again to add additional lubrication. He positioned his tip right under Hinata, who quivered and inhaled sharply. “Hold on tight, Hajime. And relax. Right now I don't intend to hurt you.”
With that Komaeda pressed forward, and as he slowly filled Hinata, the two groaned in unison. Once he was fully in, Komaeda kissed the top of Hinata's head. Slack-jawed, Hinata breathed, overwhelmed. He wrapped his legs around Komaeda's abdomen, and he felt Komaeda's lips against his head curl into a smile. Komaeda pulled out a bit, agonizingly slowly, and pushed back in at a similarly aggravating rate. His teasing got to Hinata, and he produced an unbidden, frustrated whine.
After that noise, Komaeda gripped Hinata tightly, and progressively quickened his pace. Hinata felt like one big bundle of nerves, being stretched and embraced and cared for. He felt dizzy from the constant stimulation. He was making noises he didn't think possible of himself, like fucking mewling, but he was no longer in any state of mind to be consciously embarrassed by it. For the next few minutes, there was no more talking between the two of them, their only communication being various vocalizations of pleasure. Hinata felt a building, tightening in his groin, and he dug his fingers into Komaeda's back.
“Na-Nagito, f-fuck, I'm—“
“M-me too, Haah-jime,” Komaeda interrupted, clinging more tightly as he frantically sped up his thrusts. As Komaeda insisted before, he held on, not letting up until he climaxed. His cum spurt all over his and Komaeda's stomachs. Loosening his grasp, Hinata felt Komaeda continue to pound in, before abruptly stopping. Komaeda's member twitched, and Hinata could feel his passage fill up. He leisurely pushed a couple of more times, and as they both grew soft Hinata could feel some cum leaking out—proof that the Ultimate Lucky Student got lucky.
Panting in his afterglow, Hinata leaned into Komaeda, who lazily stroked his fingers through the platinum blond, short hair. Suddenly, a nagging, uneasy feeling entered his mind. Something seemed...off, that he been ignoring until this moment.
“Wait...Nagito...?”
“Yes, Hajime?” Komaeda sounded like he was smiling.
“Why...do you have both hands? We removed Enoshima's. We haven't given you a prosthetic yet because we've been waiting for Tsumiki to wake up and handle that procedure.” Komaeda chuckled, and dread started to consume Hinata. Everything around him grew darker.
“Oh, Hajime...took you long enough.” The taller boy hugged him tightly.
Hinata, again, started to hear a faint, consistent beep. His eyes widened.
“No! No, no, no, no! Nagito you can't do this to me!”
“I can't do this to you?” he laughed. Hinata felt his presence gradually fade away, he turned to look as Komaeda started to disappear before his eyes. Tears began to flow down his face. “You're doing this to yourself, Hinata-kun.”
Hinata woke with a start, his face firmly planted into Komaeda's hospital mattress. Groaning, he opened his eyes and slowly raised his head. He felt the warmth of the sun. Detected that familiar scent of Komaeda and sterilization mixing into one. Heard the consistent beep—louder now that he was awake—of the EKG machine confirming that Komaeda still had a pulse. He saw Komaeda's still, unconscious face. He was not wearing street clothes, or knife-ripped ones for that matter, he was in a hospital gown. Both arms were draped over the hospital sheets, and his left had a bandaged stump where his hand, and Enoshima's, once was.
Hinata chuckled, smiling at the sleeping form even as tears filled his eyes.
“I guess...the messed up one is me, huh?”