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Miu Iruma dies over and over.
Her head pounds, her senses dull. This is the third migraine in as many days, and she's lying in her bed with a damp washcloth pressed firmly against her eyes.
The dying thing used to be a lot worse. It's still inescapable, compounding on itself, but at least she's not trying to claw her skin off anymore. At least she has her own room, her own bed, instead of just a blanket on Kaede's couch. At least she doesn't run into Ouma anymore, living out in the countryside with Gonta. It could be—it has been a lot worse.
But still, it replays over and over. Gonta holds her steady, hands around her neck. Sometimes she imagines she's still conscious as her half-broken body lands in a pillowy, pixelated snowbank. It's cold. It hurts. She just wants to go home.
Stupid. The amazing, wonderful, gorgeous girl genius Miu Iruma—paralyzed in fear, choked by toilet paper. This is idiotic, she tells herself. You're better than this!
But post-traumatic stress does not discriminate. And here she is.
She tries to remember, in her foggy state, some of the half-useful bullshit her therapist would tell her. Is she dressed? No. Out of the question. Has she eaten? Well, a Red Bull and a Pop-Tart. She'll give herself credit for that. Has she showered?
Ugh.
You gotta, she tells herself. Get the fuck up and shower. You can use the fruity body wash and shit. Better to smell like that than, like, Ouma's unwashed ass after he goes dumpster diving or whatever the fuck.
The mental image of Ouma dumpster diving does make her feel marginally better. She smirks to herself and drags her body out of bed.
In the bathroom, Miu pointedly does not look in the mirror while she dry-swallows two aspirin pills. Hopefully it'll do at least something for her aching head. She tugs off her sweatpants and t-shirt, leaving them in a pile on the floor before she steps into the shower. After a moment, she has to brace her arms against the wall. Standing is too much, it seems. Fine. She'll just take her shower sitting. She mindlessly works shampoo through her hair, scrubbing at her scalp. The hot water is relaxing, at least, and for a few blissful moments she can stop thinking completely.
Not for the first time, she wishes she could forget everything about the game. Or, better yet, that it never happened in the first place. That her application was denied, that she didn't make callbacks, that her brain wasn't compatible with the virtual reality system. That she never applied to begin with. She doesn't know what she was thinking—she barely remembers her life before the game, but Kaede does. She's spared Miu the details, but did tell her once that if she hadn't gotten into Danganronpa, she'd probably be dead anyway.
God, even death would be better than this.
It rained all day yesterday, so Gonta hasn't had much of a chance to work outside. Today is much better. The sun has been out since the morning, and Gonta's seen several of his bees flying around the garden, no doubt searching for flowers and nectar. It always brings joy to his heart to see them out and about after the cold weather passes and spring arrives.
As he heads back into the house, he can hear the shower running. Must be Miu. He doesn't think much of it at first, washing his hands and tidying up the kitchen. After ten minutes, the water is still running. Gonta puts away a stack of clean plates, cups, chopsticks and silverware. The water runs. Gonta starts to make a sandwich. The water runs. It's been twenty minutes.
Miu doesn't usually take showers this long, Gonta realizes, and that makes him feel a bit funny. The tap must be running cold by now.
Maybe he should check on her.
He leaves the remains of his mostly-finished sandwich on the table and heads down to the bathroom. The light is off, and the door is shut.
"Miu?" Gonta calls out. Keebo, Miu's service dog, barks loudly in the next room, almost howling. "Um, Gonta doesn't want to bother you, but... you've been in there a really long time..." No response. "Miu?" Again, nothing. "Gonta just wants to make sure you're okay..."
Anxiety starts to build in the pit of his stomach. It's not like her to be quiet like this - usually if he calls for her, she'll at least give him an "Oi, I'm shaving my legs!" or something. Anything, really, just to let him know she's...
Fine. Gonta shakes his head to clear away the thought. He doesn't want to catastrophize, or whatever it was his therapist said about assuming the worst in every situation, but this seems different. What if Miu's drowned in the shower? Better to check on her now than to find her lifeless body. Again, his brain tells him, can't let Miu die again.
Gonta calls her name once more, knowing it's futile. He bites his lip, apologizing to Miu in his head for invading her privacy like this, and forces the door open.
Miu is there, sitting, curled into herself on the shower floor. She's hugging her knees tightly. Tentatively, Gonta extends a hand under the water. It's freezing.
"Miu!" Gonta says, louder than he means to. Miu flinches. "Ah, sorry! Sorry, is Miu okay?"
Miu is silent for a moment, then groans.
"Probably not a good idea to sit in a cold shower, Gonta thinks..."
Miu groans again, her head falling forward and hitting the shower wall with a thud. Gonta inhales sharply, then quickly decides it's time for him to take action. Miu is not in her right mind. That much is clear.
He twists the shower knob until the water stops, leaving Miu a shivering, dripping mess. "Um, one moment, okay?" Gonta says, as soothing as he can. He grabs a towel from the linen closet and drapes it over her shoulders, covering her body as much as he can. (It's now that he fully realizes she's naked, but he puts that thought out of his mind as much as he can. Miu is in trouble, and that takes priority.) "Gonta will try to move you to bed. Okay?" Miu nods slowly, making a little noise. "Is it okay if Gonta touches Miu?"
"Wha'ever," Miu slurs.
"Just gonna pick Miu up," he says, placing a hand on her shoulder before scooping her up, towel and all, into his arms.
Miu comes back to herself as she's being picked up, adjusted, cradled like a baby. She kind of wishes she were still a kid, before she got all fucked up in the head, you know? It'd be nice. She still feels a bit like she's outside her own body, but at least she's somewhat conscious. It's cold. How long was she out? She went to shower, and she'd started washing her hair, and then she'd… stared at the wall for a bit. And now Gonta's here.
He's gentle, at least. Not like she remembers. Won't hurt her—she knows that, but her hands won't stop shaking, either from the cold or from the fear.
"Gonta will take care of Miu," he says, and with the determination in his voice, somewhere in the back of her mind, she believes it.
She lets herself be carried back to her bed in Gonta's strong, sturdy arms. He dutifully plucks a large t-shirt off the floor, tugging it over Miu's head. She feebly pulls it down to cover her body, and feels a bit better not being so exposed. He moves the towel up to dry off her hair, then wraps a thick blanket around her. No longer supported by Gonta's arms, Miu lets herself flop down onto her bed, curling up in her blankets.
"How is Miu feeling?" Gonta asks softly.
Miu tries, but nothing comes from her mouth save for a choked little noise. Pathetic. She's pathetic like this.
"It's okay," Gonta says. "Everything gonna be okay. Should Gonta open a window?" Miu nods her head, biting her lip in an effort to hold back tears. "Gonta saw some of the bees out today!" Warm, late-afternoon sunlight spills across Miu's bed in golden stripes. "We should have fresh honey soon."
"Mmnngh," Miu says.
Gonta pauses, looking over her. "Just let Gonta know when Miu wanna talk, okay?" he says, more quietly. "Gonta is always here."
Miu loosens her arm from the blankets and gives Gonta a weak thumbs-up. It happened again, she wants to say. I don't wanna die again.
But she is here, alive, and safe and dry. Gonta's sitting at her side, and he's so big and imposing and yet so gentle. He has seen her at her worst, time and time again, but never judged. He looks at her with such tenderness, care, adoration, the way no one else ever has.
Holy shit, Miu thinks. I love him. I'm in love with Gonta.
Miu begins to whimper, tears pricking at her eyes. Keebo immediately snaps to attention, perking his head up to check on Miu, then trotting off—probably to retrieve Miu's anti-anxiety meds.
"Miu!" Gonta says, alarmed. "Is Miu okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, just… t-thanks. For caring."
"Of course! Gonta care a lot about Miu. Gonta always want to see Miu happy."
Miu sniffles. "You're so fucking nice, you know that?"
Gonta smiles down at her serenely. "Gonta still trying to be true gentleman."
"Yeah, you're doin' great." Miu reaches out, and Gonta takes her cue immediately, threading his large fingers through her smaller ones.
A soft bark interrupts them as Keebo delicately drops one of Miu's prescription pill bottles on the bed next to her. "Oh, good boy," she says, patting his head with her free hand even though she hadn't really needed her meds. "I'm okay. 'S okay."
"Miu want Gonta to get some water?"
"Uhh, yeah… can't hurt." Already Miu's beginning to feel tired, her body and mind overworked from her ordeal.
"Okay, Gonta be right back," Gonta says, and leaves her with a gentle pat on the head.
In the kitchen once again, Gonta quickly fills Miu's favorite cup with fresh water, then pauses before deciding she should probably eat something too. Miu likes sweet things, candy and pastries and desserts. Gonta pops a handful of frozen red bean buns into the microwave, then rummages through the cabinets while he waits. The bean buns seem like the safest bet. So Gonta returns to Miu's bedroom with a tray in his hands, steaming buns and cold water. After he's unable to find a clear enough spot on her bedside table, he gently sets it down on the floor. Miu has rolled herself over, burrowing even further into her blankets.
"Gonta brought snacks too," Gonta says. "Bean buns. Not sure if Miu hungry."
"I'll take some," she mumbles.
"Can Miu sit up?"
"Nnngh… Really gonna make me fuckin' get up..."
"Gonta is sorry! Just not easy to eat and drink laying down."
"Nah… Just pullin' your dick." Miu groans and, with some effort, drags herself into a sitting position, a blanket still draped over her shoulders. Gonta watches as she nibbles on one of the buns. She does seem to be doing better, at least. "Thanks," she adds, her mouth full.
"Of course! Gonta is happy to help." Gonta begins to turn away, his work here having reached a natural conclusion. Miu is conscious, herself, with food and water and her medication within reach; she usually seems fine on her own at this point. He doesn't want to linger, as much as he'd like to.
"Oi, big dick," Miu says quietly.
"Yes?" Gonta turns around.
"Umm, can you... y'know..."
"Miu wants Gonta to stay?" Gonta asks gently.
Miu chews on her lip. "Yeah."
So Gonta sits, one hand stroking Miu's hair, the other entwined in her fingers. Miu is quiet, her breathing slowing down. Keebo, too, has settled at the foot of Miu's bed. The sun has just begun to set, the light outside fading from its earlier gold into a soft blue.
"Gonta?"
"Yes!" Gonta says, suddenly alert.
"Um… can you… keep me warm?" Miu says, in the smallest voice Gonta's ever heard.
"Miu wants Gonta to cuddle?" Gonta asks, wanting to make sure he's not misinterpreting her.
"Mmhm…" Miu rolls to the edge of her bed to make room, then pats the empty space beside her.
Gonta hesitates for a moment, not sure if he'll fit—her bed was clearly made for just one. But it's what Miu wants, and he would never refuse one of her requests. He pulls back the covers and settles in next to Miu. Immediately, she snuggles up to him, burying her head against his shoulder. Gonta, in turn, gently lays his arm across her waist to hold her closer.
"Yeah, 's more fuckin' like it," Miu mumbles. She pauses, going quiet for so long that Gonta almost thinks she's fallen asleep. "Hey," she says softly. "Mmhh… thanks."
"Ah, no need for thanks! Gonta said he take care of Miu, so…"
"Yeah, but… you don't have to. But you do anyway. So thanks."
"No trouble at all," Gonta reassures her. "Gonta always here for Miu."
Gonta runs his fingers through Miu's still-wet hair. She seems much more at peace now. At the very least, he's glad he could help, even in a small way: Miu is the most important person he's ever met, and her health and safety are Gonta's top concern. It's been difficult for them both, in the years after the game. But they have each other, and Gonta doesn't intend to ever leave Miu's side.
He leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead. And when he pulls back, in the soft twilight, Miu's finally smiling.