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Fact. Harukawa has always been distant.
This much Yumeno understands — some people require their individual comforts, and Harukawa finds her comfort in having her own space.
Fact. Harukawa has always been distant, but never with Yumeno.
Yumeno doesn’t work with subtleties, she knows they never work for her because she needs things to be obvious for her brain to process them, and Harukawa knows too, so she allows herself to be open around her.
These days she is so very honest, in ways that one might even consider harsh, but Yumeno finds it grounding. Finds it a necessity, shaped just like the hole left in her heart that refuses to fill. Finds Harukawa herself, a necessity.
Openness and honesty, two factors that would never have worked in Danganronpa, are rediscovered wonders in the world beyond.
The ‘world beyond’ meaning ‘the real world’ (to Shirogane Tsumugi, shall her beliefs please bury her kindly) — or so they’re told — and yet in this barren apartment twenty stories above the rest of the working populace, it feels anything but.
Fact. Yumeno’s personal comforts are openness and honesty now. She is sick of lies (this one’s for Ouma Kokichi, may he finally be at rest), and she is sick of hiding her emotions away, and she is tired of everything.
Yumeno is bearing herself to the world not because she wishes to invite vulnerability, but because she is too exhausted to pretend otherwise. Exhaustion has made a home in her again, even though she had promised herself she would be better.
“You are better. Not perfect, but you’re always getting better.” Saihara used to say, back when he still lived with the two of them, back when he wasn’t out settling righteousness with the world.
Back when he didn’t have hero etched into the back of his eyelids (it’s Momota Kaito in his blood, in his soul), and he wasn’t determined to fight a legal battle against the very game he had once signed up for – that they had all, once upon a time, signed up for.
“Don’t let relapses in progress define you. You’ve beaten this before and you’ll do it again.” Saihara used to say, for he had honed his vulnerabilities into strength and Yumeno had been envious for weeks. “You aren’t the same person you once were. You are constantly changing and growing… and you should embrace that.”
Fact. Yumeno understands this, but she is not as young and naïve as she once was, and his words sometimes roll off of her like water off a whale’s back.
Fact. Yumeno tries for Saihara, tries because she doesn’t want him to be disappointed with who he’ll find when he comes back to their apartment. She doesn’t want him to realize that she is the only one who hasn’t changed.
Yet she has remained unchanging.
When Saihara calls, she smiles for him, she laughs and tells him how proud she is every time she sees his face on television.
“Yep yep, ‘cause… that’s my friend there, y’know? There he is… a good boy!” She cheers, and he laughs airily.
“Himiko, please.”
She is proud of the way he has grown, proud that he can at last control his anxiety long enough to command a crowd, finally finding a cause he will not back down from.
His duty, he relays (and pour one out for Kiibo, who served his own duty from start to finish, who freed them from their hell), is set in stone. Like this, Saihara will prevent any other kid from falling to the same fate they did.
And more than anything, more than her envy and more than her sadness, Yumeno is proud of him.
“So proud,” she tells him. “I am the proudest.”
Saihara always smiles back at her, grainy through the video camera, and tells her in earnest, “I’m proud of you, too,” and she doesn’t know what there is to be proud of, so she cups her hands over her mouth and calls for Harukawa to take over.
“Help! Shuuichi’s being sappy again…!” She exclaims, pouting as he laughs once more, and Harukawa rolls her eyes but takes the phone with a fond smile anyway.
She’s so stunning.
“Hi, Shuuichi,” she says. “Our little celebrity.”
“Stop.” Saihara replies, scratching bashfully, embarrassedly, at his cheek. “I’m not a celebrity.”
“Everyone knows who you are by now.” Harukawa hums. “I think they call those celebrities.”
“Totally.” Yumeno adds. “Look at him. He’s too good for us now. Runway boy. Too glamorous. Too showy.”
“N-no, I’m not…!”
“Look at his ego,” Harukawa teases as well. “It’s overflowing. He’s so generous for taking time out for us little people. A true icon.”
“H-hey! It’s not like that at all!”
Yumeno giggles at his expression, resting her cheek against Harukawa’s arm.
Harukawa pats her on the head, gaze flat as Saihara flounders, trying to downplay his achievements to her unblinking stare, and then, knowing that none of them stand a chance arguing with Harukawa Maki, he sighs.
“I don’t like this… fame and reputation, you know. I do want to make a change, just, preferably without all these cameras in my face all the time.” His eyes flit to the side. “I have to admit, all the attention is… a lot. I feel like any moment now, they’re going to say I don’t know what I’m doing and dismiss me as a hopeless fraud.”
“You’re thinking too hard,” Harukawa tells him soundly, taking a deep breath and instructing him to do the same. “Relax.”
He does. They smile, and then Shuuichi talks a little longer about his job before he has to head to a meeting and the two of them wave him off, cooing about how responsible he is while he shakes his head at them and hangs up.
Harukawa hands the phone back, flattens out her skirt, and mutters something about making lunch.
Yumeno’s gaze trails after her before she catches herself.
Fact. Harukawa is muted edges and softer words now, she smiles more, her hair has been hacked shorter, and she’s so achingly gorgeous that Yumeno doesn’t know why she even stays.
She could be anywhere, go anywhere, be anything she wants to be (this one’s for Amami Rantarou, may he find grand adventures wherever he is), and yet she stays with useless Yumeno in a quiet apartment where she has to do the dishes and the laundry, and the rooms are so drenched in apathy sometimes that it’s like even the world can feel it and it doesn’t care either.
Yumeno has growing pains and they won’t go away.
She clings to openness and honesty like they’re all she has left.
They keep her days from congealing together too much, keep the sadness at bay when Harukawa opens the midday curtains to let the sunlight in and Yumeno sits next to her, sipping at her hot chocolate, asking her for the fifth time that day, “How are you?”
Harukawa gazes at her gently, adoringly, and says, “I’m fine,” every time. “How are you?”
“Good. Can you talk to me? Talk at me, I mean, if that’s okay.” Her hands withdraw into her sleeves. “You know how it is, sometimes. I wanna have a conversation but I’m not up for talking much.”
Fact. Harukawa obliges, because at heart, she has grown tender while Yumeno has only regressed.
But openness and honesty, she repeats like a personal mantra, at least she has that much.
“I’m thinking about visiting the coast one day, mostly because I’ve never been. I hear the weather is nice this time of year, and I think I’d like to make a sandcastle. Maybe it can be a sand rocket, or a sand car, or a sand rabbit, if you want to come along and help,” she places her palm over Yumeno’s covered hands. “I wonder if there’s a beachfront where we can see starfish. Or jellyfish, that would be cool, unless they stung, I suppose. I’m sure they look pretty from afar.”
Harukawa keeps talking and Yumeno wants to drown in it (this one’s for Hoshi Ryouma, may he find the contentment he deserves).
And just for a little bit, everything feels okay again.
Their relationship isn’t made of convenience, it is a product of love and care that has grown and grown, and when Yumeno has her good days, they feel perfect for each other.
Her hand fits in Harukawa’s like puzzle pieces slotting together, and there, Yumeno loves her unconditionally, loves her warmth and the way her cute angular nose pinches at particular bad jokes, and God (peace be to Angie Yonaga, lest they forget), if she loves Harukawa even a little, she is absolutely gone for her laugh.
Harukawa does not make a habit out of laughing, for it’s often little else than a low and embarrassed chuckle, but Yumeno finds that it’s what she clings onto the most, like it’s the only break in the monotonous repetition of their day-in day-out lives.
Fact. Harukawa laughs like she isn’t quite sure how, but she sounds better, a monumental happy that Yumeno thinks she’d like to reciprocate often. It’s right, it’s love.
On good days, Yumeno and Harukawa are a team of two that are unstoppable. They plan trips and grocery lists and pets, they swing through the streets with cute backpacks and sunglasses and hats to hide their identities away from prying eyes.
Harukawa always warns Yumeno about drinks that are too hot, over-sauced takoyaki, crepes that make messes of their mouths – and Yumeno doesn’t listen because it makes Harukawa huffy and adorable, muttering obscenities under her breath as she pats the quasi-magician’s face down with napkins and a stubbornly stern set to her jaw.
It never stays, of course, Harukawa adores Yumeno too much to stay mad, and Yumeno doesn’t tease her for it.
They set down their shopping as the evening climbs in, and Harukawa fixes a simple dinner, and they both take in the afterglow of a day out. A good day.
There is no music but they dance (for Akamatsu Kaede, they will play no music without her), socks sliding on the kitchen tiles and Harukawa catching Yumeno every time she stumbles, shaking her head in fond exasperation.
“Stop distracting me, or the food will burn.” Harukawa says primly, palms meeting the small of Yumeno’s back.
“Nah… you wouldn’t let that happen.”
“I might. You never know.”
“You might but why would you?” Yumeno wraps her arms around her middle, burying her face into her chest and breathing in her scent. “You wouldn’t get anything out of it.”
“It would be charred, for flavor.” Harukawa remarks. “And I would be proving a point.”
“Are you petty enough to do that?”
“Am I?”
“I’d tell on you.” Yumeno declares. “I have a list of all the mean things you’ve done so that I can tell Shuuichi next time he calls. He’ll put you in your place.”
“Shuuichi wouldn’t be able to put me in my place even if he tried. And he wouldn’t dare try,” Harukawa says, and Yumeno frowns, because she’s right. “But I’m not going to burn the food.”
Her expression dissolves into a grin. “I knew there was a reason why I liked you.”
“So what else is on that list?”
Yumeno pulls away, humming idly under her breath as she skips towards the dining room table to set up the table.
“Himiko,” Harukawa calls after her. “What else is on that list?”
Good days often start early, with the prelude of a good morning to set the mood for the day.
They’re a surface-level childish love some of these mornings, all giggles and Yumeno getting up on her tiptoes to kiss Harukawa, light as butterfly wings.
Harukawa is shy with on-mouth kisses, that has remained constant in all the time they’ve known each other, but she returns them, sweet and soft as she has become.
A ladybug is perched on the kitchen sill, and Harukawa notices it, gently lifting Yumeno onto the bench before padding over to it.
“Look.” She says, awed.
“That’s lucky. Ladybugs are lucky.” Yumeno recalls, crawling across the bench to peer at the tiny red spotted creature. “And it’s also your favorite color.”
“It is.” Harukawa murmurs, leaning in closer to examine it. “I wonder why it came here today of all days.”
Good days can also turn without warning, drop at the sound of a hat.
Yumeno loses the amusement in her voice, abruptly, finding the weathered calendar on their wall and remembering. The date.
Harukawa seems to realize her mistake in bringing it up, and falls silent also.
Yumeno takes an empty glass and a throwaway brochure and frees the ladybug with heavy steps (Gokuhara Gonta, please watch over carefully, she would not do this if she never knew him).
Fact. Yumeno’s comforts are openness and honesty, but this date threatens to take all that away from her.
Fact. That’s a lie. She’s playing the blame game because it’s easier than admitting that she’s the one that’s in the wrong.
Fact. She’s actually not a good person, and this is why.
Fact. She suppresses it as much as she can, but it’s always lingering just beneath her skin, waiting. Wanting to swallow her whole. This is why.
There are things she insists on keeping close.
Things she shouldn’t.
Things that sap her energy more than they will ever help her.
Fact. Those good days never make up for the bad, and she can’t hallucinate optimism when it still hurts, especially not when she knows it’s unreasonable for it to hurt so much after so long and that only hurts her more.
Fact. Yumeno is still holding onto one terrible lie, and Harukawa knows exactly what it is, because this day amplifies it. Seizes her by the throat, flings her back into the past, when she had been so empty she couldn’t even grieve properly.
Back to a time when Yumeno was smaller and weaker, and she still wore her hair above her shoulders and skirts that spanned out like petals and bounced when she walked.
Back to a time when she was innocent, and all she ever wanted was to sleep and to be spoiled and have piggyback rides and believed magic was real.
Back when she was still a child, before it all fell apart, back when she still felt alive and felt she deserved to be.
Yumeno returns to the kitchen feeling hollow, and she falls into Harukawa’s open arms before either has to say a thing.
“I miss you.” Yumeno mutters.
There’s a pause. Harukawa breathes, a slow in-and-out, inhale, exhale, and tucks her in under her chin.
“Himiko, I don’t… you… you’re pretending I’m her, again.” Harukawa murmurs into the crown of Yumeno’s head, and Yumeno doesn’t have the strength to refute it. It’s clear Harukawa doesn’t need her to, because she adds, “Or… your vision of her. Sometimes, when you get like this, I think you can barely tell the difference between us.”
She doesn’t specify, but Yumeno knows who she’s talking about.
This is her greatest vice.
She still thinks about her in fleeting moments, when she’s in Harukawa’s arms, when she’s nestled in the warm brown tresses of Harukawa’s hair, when she kisses that pretty little beauty mark beneath her eye. On this day, especially.
She’s thinking about someone who’s already gone.
(Chabashira Tenko, thank you for your sacrifice.)
Harukawa sighs softly. She knows what to do in these situations. Yumeno doesn’t deal with subtleties, she needs to be told clearly, unfalteringly, what is real and what is not – or she’ll lose herself and she might not want to come back.
“You know the reason why you miss her is because… in death, she became a martyr to you. That’s why you even cared. You wouldn’t have cared about her if she was still here.”
Fact. Yumeno is tired and she never loved Chabashira Tenko, but seeing that girl die changed something inside of her.
Fact. Chabashira Tenko has been dead for over five years now.
Fact. Five years is plenty of time for Yumeno to make up a lifetime with someone she never had.
“You romanticize everything,” Harukawa continues, and her tone of voice is far too gentle for the circumstances. “You love ideas more than you’ll ever love reality.”
What’s worse is that she’s right, though.
Yumeno loves fantasy, loves suspension of disbelief, and the magic she doesn’t have faith in anymore. Yumeno loves unreality, loves fiction, and imagination.
It’s why she signed up for Danganronpa to begin with.
“You’re in love with the afterimage of someone who might have loved you without expectations. Your helpless admirer, who you didn’t have to work for. You love who she could have been, because you never took the chance to know her when she was still alive.”
“But I love you.” Yumeno says instead. She doesn’t have the energy to explain herself, not even when she desperately needs to.
She can’t explain falling for something she made up herself — wishing and wanting a vision so badly she convinced herself it could be real.
She can’t explain that she’s forgotten what Chabashira’s voice sounds like, but she would still like to hear it, because she imagines that it loves her very well (to Shinguuji Korekiyo, may he forever break off from that fantasy love, Yumeno’s found one that won’t let her go and she hates to empathise with him).
Harukawa is only telling the truth, but Yumeno doesn’t want to hear it anymore.
Fact. She is terrible, she knows that, but that’s what loneliness does to a person.
Fact. She could have a world that’s in love with her, be surrounded by adoring fans and people begging to be her friend, have Harukawa tell her every single day that she’s loved but it’s not enough.
Fact. At her core, she is unshakably, inescapably lonely.
“Maki, I love you,” Yumeno says again, as if repetition made it all the more real. “I really, really love you.”
“No, not right now, you don’t,” Harukawa replies, knowing this. Understanding this, even though it hurts that she does. “In these… fits, you only wish you did. It will pass, Himiko, but don’t lie to me.”
“I do love you.” It’s the truth.
“You love the idea of her more.” It’s also the truth. “She died for you. I didn’t. So you always feel like you have to love her more, or her sacrifice would have been for nothing. Every year, you come back to this. You’ve never stopped feeling guilty.”
“No, that’s not how I…”
“You didn’t kill Chabashira.” She murmurs, and the words clamp down on Yumeno like a brace. “But you feel guilty anyway, and that’s why you keep making things up, so you can… make it up to her.”
“That’s not love.”
“No, it isn’t,” Harukawa agrees. “But it’s how you feel. You would do anything to make it up to her.”
“I’m happy with you.” Yumeno says.
“I believe you.” Harukawa’s reply is gentle, and so is the rest of her, carding her fingers through Yumeno’s deep red hair. “Because I am happy. With you. But you want her back right now. I can’t change that.”
“I love you more.”
“I’m not going to be a replacement for her,” Harukawa whispers. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”
Fact. Yumeno can’t read subtleties but she thinks Harukawa might be sad.
“You’re not gonna be a replacement,” Yumeno tells her. “I wouldn’t exchange you, even if I could use cloning magic or equivalent exchange. Which I can’t, but if I could.” She cups Harukawa’s face between her trembling hands. “Maki, I don’t want you to die.”
“I’m not going to. I just.” She falters, fingers reaching up to gently clasp Yumeno’s own. “I don’t know. I want us to be together, but I don’t know if it’s because all we have left is each other or if it’s because I love you so much that I don’t care if you don’t love me the same way.”
“I do love you, I do,” she insists. “It’s all I know, to love you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’d survive.”
A breath passes.
“Why does this sound like the start of a goodbye?”
“It’s not.”
“Please don’t go.”
Fact. Yumeno doesn’t want to be alone.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Fact. Harukawa doesn’t either.
Fact. Bad days don’t last.
Fact. But when they repeat, they are insidious and never ending.
“Should we go get breakfast?” Yumeno asks. “I’m hungry.”
“Okay.” Harukawa replies, but there’s hesitation, like she knows she’s stepped too far somewhere down the line and doesn’t know how to rectify it. “I’m sorry. Forget about what I said. I’m not feeling well right now. It’ll pass. It always does.”
Yumeno is tired.
The air sours when Yumeno sinks into deep spirals, and pits of self-loathing she can’t climb out of.
She is Yumeno Himiko, once astounding mage, fallen to the throes of humanity from a manufactured genius (to Iruma Miu, here’s for being two different ends of a spectrum yet so solemnly similar, after all).
She is Yumeno Himiko, and she loves Harukawa Maki but she has spirits that reside deeply in her heart and they won’t go away.
She is Yumeno Himiko and she does not love Chabashira Tenko, but she imagines the girl being given the chance to learn and grow and mature, imagines the sharpness of her eyes rounding into a warm-and-melted-chocolate-like-waterfall-lovestruck idolization of her.
She’s Yumeno Himiko and she feels sick in her stomach for romanticizing her relationship with a girl that’s five-years-dead, but the problem about having someone that loved her and left is that she can fill in all the blanks and suddenly, she’s lost her everything.
Fact. This isn’t the first time, and she begs it to be the last.
Harukawa steps around her in the hallways when she gets like this. Harukawa, who loves her so much despite how broken Yumeno is inside – and aren’t they all broken, they keep putting the pieces back together like it’ll be enough to fix themselves but every time they shatter, another piece goes missing – and Yumeno pleads to her own traitorous soul to give back her ability to love in full.
She cries wordlessly, unable to make a sound, because she can’t have Harukawa come in and comfort her again. It’s too much.
Fact. Five years is a long time to mourn.
Fact. She shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t care anymore. She shouldn’t care at all.
Fact. Angie always told her there was a merciful God that would save her from her hurt, but ever since Angie died, all Yumeno has felt is pain, and pain, and pain.
She still remembers good days with Harukawa, but they’re blurring and fleeting and it’s like they never existed in the first place.
Yumeno reaches for them, desperately, because she can’t lose this.
She can’t lose the only thing that matters anymore.
Fact. Harukawa has always been distant, but never with Yumeno.
Fact. Harukawa is growing distant and it’s scaring her.
Saihara calls, and he sounds overwhelmed, too bogged down by it all, too much on his slender shoulders to carry. He is trying to take on the burden alone (in the manner of Toujou Kirumi, may she find a calm resting place), and it’s wearing him thin.
Yumeno wonders if any of them ever truly changed in the past five years. At such a close range, it’s hard to tell.
“To be honest, I miss you two.” He says, so tired.
“We miss you too,” Harukawa speaks, because Yumeno is not able today. “How have you been?”
“Decent, I would say. It’s hard to get my point across when nobody understands what Danganronpa is really like, and the ones who do won’t say anything.” He informs them, eyes lined dark and brows wrinkling as they pull together. “I’ll be back in the area in about a month. I’d like to come stay with you again… if you’ll have me.”
“We’d never say no to you,” Harukawa says. “Besides, your room is still free as the day you left. You’re welcome here anytime. Don’t be stupid.”
“Thanks, Maki,” he laughs, or tries to, but it doesn’t sound like he even knows how to keep the charade up anymore. “How is… Himiko doing?”
Harukawa looks at her. Yumeno blinks back.
“She’s okay.” Harukawa answers neutrally. “Just having a quiet day.”
Yumeno had pleaded her not to tell Saihara a thing. She’s glad, terribly so, that she didn’t.
“Send us the details closer to when you arrive,” Harukawa continues. “We’ll come pick you up and we’ll get your favorite dishes and everything.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“Shuuichi, now that you said that, I most definitely do have to.”
“Sorry.” Saihara offers weakly.
“Don’t be. It’s supposed to be friendly,” Harukawa sighs. “I forget that my tone isn’t always easy to read.”
Fact. Yumeno forgot about that one, but she can’t trust herself to remember anything right now when all she feels is empty.
“I’ll have to call you guys back.” Saihara says. “I’ve got another interview in 10.”
“Break a leg.” Harukawa tells him. “Himiko and I will be thinking of you.”
“Thanks.” Saihara smiles, and if Yumeno was feeling better, she might have returned it. “I’ll see you soon. Rest up, Himiko. Bye, Maki.”
“Bye. Take care.”
“You too.”
The call clicks off, and Harukawa sighs, turning her full attention on Yumeno. “How are you holding up?”
She shakes her head.
“Himiko,” Harukawa says her name with a grace she didn’t think was possible. “I don’t want to be cruel, never to you, but you need to start picking yourself up again. It’s been too long.”
She drops her gaze, fingers tangling together. She doesn’t know if it’s even worth trying. She doesn’t know how to tell Harukawa she doesn’t think she’ll ever break free from this awful-terrible-dreadful cycle.
“Himiko. Even if it’s not for me, please ask yourself, do you want Shuuichi to come back and see you like this?”
“No,” Yumeno whimpers, voice hoarse as it frees the only words she’s said since last night. “I don’t want… him to see me like this. He’ll hate me.”
“He won’t hate you.” Harukawa runs her fingers through Himiko’s crimson hair, soothing and placid. “We’re going to get you through this, okay?”
“I don’t know how to let go.” Her voice is barely above a murmur because she knows how pathetic it sounds. “I don’t remember the steps to letting go of something. I’ve never been taught how. I don’t even know if I want to.”
“There’s no steps to it. Not everything in life comes with a manual, nor is it obvious. We make do.”
“I don’t like living like that.”
“Nobody does.”
Fact. Yumeno can’t read subtleties but she knows what Harukawa looks like when she’s sad, and she is.
Fact. Yumeno wants to change. She wants to fix this. Stop the stinging beneath her eyes, the sinking, swirling in her chest that keeps on coming even when she thinks she’s finally going to make it through okay.
Fact. Yumeno is tired.
“Listen.” Harukawa exhales. “I got through the hardest times of my life by myself. I don’t want to see you do the same, not when you don’t have to.”
“Okay.”
“I’m here for you.”
“Okay.”
“Tell me what I can do to help you. And if you don’t know, we’ll just keep trying until we find a way.”
“Okay.” Yumeno’s hands lift to rest on her waist, clutching the soft cream fabric of her sweater. “I. I can do that. But I have. I want to know. I want…”
“What is it?” She asks. Her fingers fall to the nape of Yumeno’s neck, steady and calming.
“If I let go, if we… forget about them,” she takes a deep breath. “Won’t that make them sad?”
“Himiko,” Harukawa says, sounding pained. “They’re dead. They’re not coming back. You hold onto the facts, don’t you? That’s a fact. You don’t have to forget them, but you have to accept that they’re gone.”
“Have you?”
“I’ve seen too many people die for me not to.”
“Do you miss them? Even a little bit?”
“Of all the things to be curious about,” she laughs delicately, cautiously, and it’s not the laugh that makes Yumeno’s heart grow warm, but Yumeno feels the blood rush to her face anyway. She thinks it might be shame. “Yes, I miss them. Of course I do. But sometimes I wake up and don’t think about them at all, and I am at peace with that.”
“Okay.” She says again. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Everything. Sorry, if I ask insensitive questions and stuff… I don’t know how to be subtle.”
“It’s okay. I know,” Harukawa replies, but it’s fond this time.
“Can you… help me let go? I don’t wanna do this anymore.”
“I can try, but you are the only one who can change the way you think. Okay?”
“... okay.”
“How about this, then,” Harukawa begins, looking Yumeno in the eye, and again, she’s so stunning. Yumeno feels a bit of her darkness crumble, but it’s not enough to save her. She’s not that naïve. “When Shuuichi gets back, we’ll make a proper memorial. And maybe then you’ll finally be able to start letting them go.”
“Okay,” she whispers. “That’s… a good idea.”
“For closure.”
“Yeah. For… closure.”
Yumeno gets up. Yumeno makes breakfast.
Harukawa eats the burned eggs without flinching.
“Charred, for flavor.” She says.
Yumeno tries not to cry.
The day before Saihara gets back, Yumeno is plagued by nightmares.
She doesn’t even remember the color of Chabashira’s eyes, but she can remember the way her corpse lay across the floorboards, rapidly losing warmth and unmoving.
She doesn’t even remember the last words Chabashira said before she was killed, but she remembers being blamed for the murder, and thinking, why does it matter? We’re all gonna die anyway.
Really, we’re all gonna die anyway so who cares?
She wakes with the same thought in mind.
Fact. She doesn’t want to do this anymore.
Fact. She doesn’t know if she’s ever getting over it, even when it all becomes shadows and nothing more — she might keep holding on.
Fact. She wants to change. She really does.
Fact. She knows she can’t do this alone but it’s not for lack of trying.
She lifts herself out of bed with a heavy heart, sluggish in her movements but determined not to let it stop her.
It would be so easy to stop, even for a moment, and crawl back to wallow in misery all curled up by herself.
She will not allow herself that luxury.
Harukawa is easily woken, being a much lighter sleeper than Yumeno, and does not hesitate to make space for Yumeno in the cosiness of her bed.
Yumeno clambers in wordlessly, and doesn’t look at her.
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything.” She says. “... but right now, it’s dumb, ‘cause it’s just a nightmare.”
“It’s not just a nightmare if it made you react like this.” Harukawa cradles her cheek, wiping at some of the emerging tears with her thumb. “But it is just a nightmare in that you do not need to be afraid of it. It cannot hurt you here.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Yes. And if it tries to,” the corners of her lips quirk up in a simple, much-appreciated attempt to comfort her, “I will protect you.”
“Aww. My hero.” Yumeno laughs, shaky in her response.
“Listen, anything, anything for you, you know that. I hope you know that.”
Her laugh falters. “Uh huh. Say… why do you even bother? I’m useless.”
“No, you’re not.”
“You don’t have to lie, Maki. I know I am.”
“No. You’re not.”
“I’m not okay.”
“I know that you can be, though.”
“Nn… I don’t…” the tears start falling more ceaselessly, and she hiccups, trying to claw them off her face. Harukawa takes hold of her hands, halting the action.
“It’s going to be alright, Himiko.” She tells her, pulling her close and squeezing her as she coaxes all the tears out in broken waves. “It’s not going to be perfect, but it’s going to be alright.”
Yumeno clutches her tightly, shuddering, sobbing. Finds holding onto Harukawa a necessity, shaped just like the hole left in her heart that refuses to fill. Finds Harukawa herself a necessity.
“You may feel like you’re going backwards, but it will pass,” and Harukawa’s voice is ever-soft. “This doesn’t erase your success. You’ve been strong for a long time now.”
“And I’ve just been a burden to you every step of the way,” Yumeno sobs, because it’s true.
Harukawa kisses her on the forehead, kisses her on the cheek and the nose and kisses the tears that fall from her eyes.
“Don’t say that.” She whispers. “You know you’ve never been a burden to me. You’ve only ever been burdening yourself, and that’s not good, but you’re learning, and that’s what matters.”
“I love you.” Yumeno cries against her shoulder. “Thank you, Maki. I love you. I’m sorry I’m like this. I wish I wasn’t like this.”
“I love you, too.” Harukawa replies, tucking crimson strands behind Yumeno’s ear. “And you don’t have to apologize.”
“I want to be happy again,” she says. “Can you promise me that?”
“I can try.” Harukawa presses lips to hers, as if sealing the deal. “I can’t guarantee anything, but I can try. Is that enough?”
Yumeno pulls away and offers a teary smile. "More than enough."
She kisses her again.
Even if it's just for a little bit, all Yumeno feels is light.
It's warm.
Fact. Yumeno missed Saihara a lot more than she thought she did.
She shouts and dives into his arms the moment they’re in range of each other, and he stumbles under the unexpected weight, both of them ready to meet the ground before Harukawa leaps in to catch them and set them upright again.
“Ridiculous,” she tells them. “You can hug without the theatrics, you know.”
“I’m a skillful stage presence,” Yumeno gloats, even though they all know that isn’t true. “And Shuuichi is a celebrity, so it’s fine.”
“M’not a celebrity…” Saihara mumbles under his breath.
“Look at his massive ego, Maki. Is it just me or does his head look bigger than last time?”
“Oh, definitely. Must be the overflowing self-confidence he has,” Harukawa replies flatly, over Saihara’s meek protests.
He relents easily, though, after Harukawa seizes his suitcase and Yumeno drags him towards the subway by the arm.
“... I don’t know why you guys insist on making this joke every single time you see me.” He says, after they’ve passed through the ticket gates.
“Maybe if we say it enough, it’ll come true.” Yumeno replies, swinging his arm idly.
“We would like you to have even half the confidence we do in you,” Harukawa agrees. “And this is how we’ve decided to help you.”
“It’s not helping.” He says.
“It was worth a shot, though.”
“Yes, worth a shot,” He smiles, and once they’re safely on the train, Yumeno falls into his shoulder to take a nap.
When they arrive, Harukawa shakes her awake.
“Stay close,” she says to the two of them. “It’s peak hour, and we don’t want to be losing anyone in the crowd.”
They both take one of her arms each, and Yumeno stifles a giggle at that, before they make their way through the station, passing the underground shops as they do so.
One in particular catches Yumeno’s eye, and she halts, forcing Harukawa and Saihara to stop with her. A set of candles are on display beneath a decorative golden statue, and she steps towards them, intrigued.
“Oh, Maki, look at these,” Yumeno reaches for the candles, the particular waxy scent drawing her closer, yet forcing her to cover her nose. She points to a set of them, propped in a box. “Can we use these?”
Harukawa hums, contemplative.
“Do you like this kind of thing now?” Saihara queries, picking up a simple white candle and turning it in his hand.
“We’re planning on making a memorial this weekend,” Harukawa tells him. “For closure purposes.”
“Good idea.” Saihara says. He puts the candle down delicately. “It has been… a while, hasn’t it?”
She makes a considering sound. “... two months ago, it would make five years since Ouma, Momota, Shirogane and Kiibo died.”
“And the others, earlier,” Saihara recalls, tone sombre. “How old would that make them, now?”
“Twenty-three.” Harukawa replies. “Iruma would still be twenty-two, like Himiko.”
“God. Iruma-san.” Saihara breathes, maybe because he doesn’t know how else to react. “She would have thrown the wildest parties.”
“Sure, but can you imagine Ouma hosting a party?” Yumeno offers.
“It would be a surprise party,” Saihara muses thoughtfully. “One he plans for himself, then while he’s plotting, we would plan a surprise party for that surprise party, and Ouma-kun would never see it coming.”
“I pop the piñata with a gun.” Harukawa states, playing along.
“Then Toujou-san would confiscate your gun, and Momota-kun would rescue the poor thing,” he laughs.
“Angie made the piñata,” Yumeno chirps up, “And there’s another, smaller one inside. And a smaller one inside that. Because she’s funny like that.”
“And then off goes Shinguuji, rambling some nonsense about cultural traditions and disrespect again. Everyone is ignoring him,” Harukawa remarks, then, choosing to take a turn, she says, “Then I shoot the smaller piñata with a smaller gun.”
“Luckily, Ouma-kun has a back-up piñata that’s three times his size and in the shape of his face,” Saihara gestures, still smiling despite himself, adding his bit in conjuring up the most ridiculous tale. “He rides it around for a bit, before Chabashira-san has had enough and starts beating it up.”
Harukawa snorts at that. “And then Gokuhara swoops in to defend its honor. Nobody gets hurt, but there’s candy everywhere. Iruma is stuffing it up her shirt, and Akamatsu is shaking her head.”
“Kiibo-kun is inspecting the candy, while discreetly hiding Hoshi-kun who is stuffing as much as he can into his hat.”
“It’s actually not even Ouma’s birthday.” Yumeno giggles. “He just wanted to throw a party and we all got tricked.”
“Of course.” Harukawa rolls her eyes.
Saihara laughs too, “Amami-kun found out beforehand, but, sworn to secrecy, he only helped make the party even more dramatic and elaborate.”
“And Shirogane even got everybody to dress up to make it more convincing.”
Yumeno gasps. “It was a costume surprise party…!”
“Were we all dressed as clowns?” Saihara asks.
“Nnn… because Ouma is a clown?”
“God no. Nobody was dressed as a clown.” Harukawa says, seeming to finally draw the line. Until, “We were penguins, actually.”
They stand together silently, and five years suddenly doesn’t feel very long at all.
“They were all too young to die.” Saihara voices. And leave us behind, he doesn’t say.
Harukawa hears it though, and Yumeno does, too.
“Five years is a long time to mourn.” Yumeno says, taking the box up to the counter to pay.
“It is.” Harukawa follows.
The conversation peters off there, all three of them seeming to lose themselves in thought.
It’s not until they get home does Harukawa speak again, telling Saihara to grab a shower and Yumeno to take some plates.
“You’re tired, aren’t you?” Yumeno giggles.
Harukawa stops to process what she had just said.
“Aren’t we all,” she remarks, pushing the quasi-detective towards the bathroom.
The memorial is a quiet affair.
It’s nothing groundbreaking, and though they can afford to be lavish, they choose not to.
Using Danganronpa survivor money seemed wrong in this circumstance, so they had scraped by with Saihara’s generosity and a lot of hushed apologies.
“I want to do this, too,” he answers when asked. “It’s been a long time. We should have done it sooner, I can’t think of why we didn’t.”
Because you‘re better than us, and you left us behind, Yumeno chooses not to say. She will not be unfair to Saihara, not after all he has done for them.
“The wounds were too fresh,” Harukawa reasons for them both. “And by the time it didn’t hurt so much, we didn’t want to see their faces again.”
“That’s true.” He says.
Harukawa is in charge of finding the photos, and she sets them up in little golden frames, careful and methodical as always. It’s fascinating that she chose old ones — what she could find of them all before Danganronpa, and Saihara makes a side comment about how sad they look in the pictures.
Most are school portraits, barely into high school and in uniforms Yumeno doesn’t recognize, but she knows that this was a part of their lives she will never learn. Under the flickering glow of the candles, they almost look like strangers behind the glass.
It’s too late to have regrets, she realizes.
Yumeno tries not to feel useless as the two of them converse quietly about the arrangement, because she knows there is nothing she can do to help.
“Got anything to say?” Harukawa inquires politely, courteous enough to not stare while Yumeno takes in the youthful faces of their once-classmates — all of which they had seen die before them.
“No,” Yumeno says. “I don’t.”
They bow their heads in unison and light their incense.
“Y’know, I hope that they’re happy wherever they are.” Yumeno says, legs kicking under the table as Harukawa sets down dinner and Saihara is mentally conjuring up fifty or more ways to thank her profusely. “And that they hope that we are happy too.”
“They do.” Harukawa says softly. She seats herself between them after everything has made it to the table and Saihara only looks mildly horrified at how much food she decided to make and is now proceeding to pile onto his plate.
“Maki, this is a lot, I really can’t impose–”
“Oh come on, don’t give me that.” She answers huffily. “I’m willing to bet you haven’t eaten home-cooked food in a while. It’s not the greatest, but it’s the best we could do.”
“It’s… perfectly fine, I just.” Saihara sighs. “I feel bad. I don’t have much else to offer you in return.”
“We just missed you, Shuuichi,” Yumeno says, cheeks puffed. “Stupid.”
“Yeah, Shuuichi.” Harukawa echoes. “Stupid.”
“H-hey…!”
Yumeno laughs, muttering a quick thanks for the meal before digging in. The others do the same, chopsticks clicking together as they eat, and for a while, the sounds of food are all that fill the room.
Saihara breaks the silence gently, “I have something I want to say.”
“Shoot.” Harukawa responds.
“I’m taking a bit of a break right now, because everything was… it was getting a lot, and I knew I needed to be away from it for a bit, so…” He smiles hesitantly, gaze soft. “I might be staying longer, if you’ll still have me.”
“What?!” Yumeno exclaims, almost shoving her bowl of rice into her face instead of putting it down – motor-coordination just didn’t seem to be agreeing with her today.
Harukawa scolds her for her lack of manners, plucking a grain of rice from her cheek as she complains that Saihara doesn’t care how she eats.
“Yes, it’s true.” He informs them sheepishly. “If you don’t mind seeing me around more often.”
Harukawa turns to him this time. “We love having you around, stop saying that.”
“Sorry…”
“And stop saying ‘sorry’.”
“Sorr– I mean, thank you.”
Harukawa nods, seemingly pleased. Without much else to add, she refills everyone’s tea, before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear to stop it from getting into the food.
Yumeno leans over and snatches a fish cake from Harukawa’s plate when she isn’t looking. It lands in her own with a tiny wet slap.
“Teleportation trick!” She exclaims when Harukawa turns around. “Now it’s mine!”
“I’m floored. There’s no way I could see through that at all. Truly a devious tactic.” Harukawa drawls, shaking her head but letting her take it.
“Good one.” Saihara remarks, watches them with a lightness to his features, and though he looks worn, he also looks more content than he has in a long time.
Yumeno knows how that feels.
She smiles at them each in turn. “You bet it is.”
Fact. They’re going to be alright.