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First, images of the ideal administrator were brought out from all your memories. Those images were supposed to be combined into one personality… but there wasn't any need. You had the same image in your minds. Because you all had someone you longed to see again, from the bottom of your hearts.
...
Her lips, her smile. Her cotton candy features. Pale skin, light blush when she smiled and said your name. Gentle voice, so soft. When everything was hard, she was there. When everyone was out of their minds, she was there. The glow in the room, warm; comforting. When everything was falling apart, she was there. The opposite of it all. Sweet, gentle, kind.
She was nurturing, passive. Took into account all the others. Everything else, perfect. In the way no one real could be.
Maybe because…
Komaeda walks into the room with hands in his pocket after surveying it. His eyes fall onto Hinata, sitting at the desk in silence. The blue grey eyes harden on him. A sharp stare, as they drift around him and his surroundings.
She was never real. Not really. She was. But also not really. The freshest memories he has of her, are…
… well.
And yet she meant so much.
“We're having a meeting downstairs.” Komaeda says, clucks his tongue. He's slender in the way he's always been, but he’s taller now. His hair haphazard is now strapped into a ponytail. “There's no way we can start without the Ultimate Hope.” He smiles, and Hinata looks up from his computer screen.
When Komaeda softens, Hinata knows it’s because he's drank in the sadness of his features. A small tight smile is all he can muster in return. “Really?” Hinata chuckles, and Komaeda's lips quirk.
Komaeda lets out a breath, it fogs the air in the beginnings of winter chill. Hair pulled back in a rubber band, he’s standing tall and straight. His shoes slide across the floor as he turns them, this way. That.
Komaeda always fidgets. He's always doing something. He never kept still.
Hinata-kun must be tired. He looks awful. That's what Komaeda must have been saying in his head.
He's doing great. They all are, Hinata thinks as Komaeda stands near the entrance of the room, slender fingers fiddling all the lights off while Hinata's bent. He’s decrepit, and pretty pathetic over his own neon screen. A hermit, tired and aimless.
Did they even need him?
Komaeda's eyes linger on the light of the doorway, before they found their way back on Hinata.
Moving on is a part of life. Hinata has to learn that.
She wasn't even human. That's what he told himself.
But she was real. Where her real body was, now, God only knew.
And now that they found it, the last streaks of coding there was left from the ejection from the program… to delete it all would be like killing her all over again.
Komaeda steps towards Hinata, confidence and strength in his stride, and as Hinata looks back into the computer screen he feels a hand on his own. It envelopes his fingers, positioned over the mouse.
“These things must be hard for you, Hinata-kun. Don't be too hard on yourself. My, it's rather cruel that Naegi-kun tasked you with it - but, well, of course he wouldn't know.”
He looks up at Komaeda, who stares intently at the program. In the aqua illuminated skin, a face so steadfast. He thinks Komaeda's made leaps and bounds since he's come out of the program, while he himself - the Ultimate Hope, of all people - couldn't find the energy in him to click a button.
“I'm sorry.” Hinata speaks, the movement of his lips almost imperceptible. Komaeda's eyes follow Hinata down, and a small shrug appears in his shoulders, as he curls the white strands behind his ear. “Sorry to trouble you.”
“Ahah… it really doesn't do for the Ultimate Hope to apologise to me, of all people.” But the way Komaeda looks at the screen, without backing down. His skin's still an unhealthy pale, but in his eyes is the hint of fascination and life. Perhaps Hinata was imagining it, because it was so different from the eyes he saw back in the program. Or perhaps, Hinata thinks, maybe. Just maybe… recovery was possible from anything?
He's seen it before his very eyes.
Hinata's grateful.
“It's understandable, Hinata-kun. You two were close.” Komaeda chuckles.
He feels the boys reassuring grip on his hand… and then Komaeda's fingers flicking away Hinata’s grip on the mouse, and replacing them on the mouse. Hinata's hand lies on the table, empty.
Komaeda's wrong, though, about Naegi not knowing. His own powerlessness is probably why Naegi gave him the job in the first place. He'd thought he’d gotten over history before he found the strands of her coding buried in the deepest files of the neo world program. It was broken- corrupted- but very much still there. Was it wrong that a part of him had wanted to keep it? Was it wrong that for a moment he had hoped, she was still there?
But she hadn't even been real.
Naegi could probably sense it, always in tune with emotions as he was. The boy possessed a frightening knack for knowing struggles in the psyche that people were facing. So, he was right to give the job to Hinata, when they both knew of course that Komaeda would be more suited to a task like this.
He's more used to it. Moving on… accepting things as they've happened. He's been strengthened by the years of uncertainty, through his turbulent life.
Hinata might have had every power under the sun. But was he strong?
Probably not.
“Go get changed, quickly.” Komaeda smiles, raises a finger to his lips. It's an intimate gesture- a secret- and he winks. I won't tell Naegi-kun, it says.
Komaeda's done well for himself, Hinata thinks, as he shrugs off his blazer, leaving the door ajar. It’s been a while since he’d taken the time to care about what he threw on, when every shirt looked the same, so it took him some time to dig out a clean one and the crinkles on his shirt begged to be ironed.
Such normal activities aren’t supposed to be strenuous- not to a normal adult male. It was ridiculous how tiring such a simple act could be. Talent didn’t take away the mundanity of the task. Somehow, it made it harder.
But at least talent made sure the damned shirt was ironed to perfection. When he slips it on, he tugs at the shirt and eyes himself in the reflection of the mirror, turning. He looked neater than he has in weeks.
The room around him isn’t in a much better state, decorated by empty soda and pieces of paper. A hurricane-styled one-man party. Hinata picks a soda bottle off the floor, tossing it in the trash before patting the dust off his slacks. I should probably clean this place up a little. I’ve let things get out of hand. Even Komaeda would lecture me, if he saw this place.
Despite his own messy head of hair, Komaeda was peculiarly pedantic when it came to personal hygiene and room cleanliness. He probably thinks I’m a slob.
Popping back into his thoughts, Hinata remembers the wink his colleague gave him before he’d left the computer room. Hinata almost laughs at the image, snickering as he watches himself dress.
The people in his class were so strong, to make it to today.
When he arrives back to the room, Komaeda's finishing up, typing the last few letters quickly into the keyboard, before making the final click. Immediately, the screen flashes a pop-up box, and then it's done.
Hinata knows she's gone.
He was there to witness the final moments, but it’s over now. A sudden tiredness in his shoulders as the tension escapes him. It’s replaced by the warm rush of waves over him- waves of expectation. Fear. Guilt.
It’s hard to walk, ghostly shackles around his ankles. But... the feelings linger only as the final cries of attention from a ghost that knows it’s time to move on. So it’s hard.
But he manages to do so.
When he nears Komaeda, he can see the boy flip a small black device from the computer, into his pocket, before he turns to Hinata and smiles.
The only thing Hinata can hold onto in that moment is his tie, pretending to tighten it, because he knows his arms are shaking.
It's all gone?
“So, it's done.” Hinata lets out a breathy laugh, and Komaeda confirms. “After I made such a big deal out of it.” And it didn't hurt at all. A five minute job. “Sorry.” For being so pathetic.
Komaeda blinks, fiddling with his pocket before he shoots a smile, and his hand is out. Hinata stares at it, the gloved hand. Since the day he’d seen Komaeda stir in the pod, and he instinctively reached out to help him up, it had since become a sort of innocent tradition, that whenever moments were tense and words inadequate, they’d settle for a silent resolution.
When it's dark, and things are difficult...
“It's alright, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda looks to the lit doorway. “Shall we go?”
At least there's a hand out waiting for him.
As he’s pulled out of the room, he sees the drag of the boy before him, gray eyes locked firmly ahead. Hinata tries to take one last peek at the dark room, with the pods, and the killing game and everything… but then he feels a tug on his arm, and his attention is again at Komaeda.
“Hinata-kun, we don't have much time. We're late.”
He doesn't see as the room closes behind him, before it’s gone.
But...
Maybe it's for the better, after all.
The past is behind him, and when the boy before him tightens his grip, he knows there are people who won't let him fall back, even when Hinata wants to.
...
Life after the program… was so fucking mundane, sometimes. Who knew being part of the Future Foundation meant writing 100 page manuscripts, just because his and Souda's invention was ‘too hard to use’. To all aspiring hopeful's who think being the Ultimate Hope means 80% time to kick butt, and 20% time for attention from attractive single ladies, or men, it's a shame that they are sorely mistaken.
Yeah. So, he played a role in the Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History. Fine, he was a piece of shit for it who'd made some bad decisions… but it didn't mean the person who’d decided to spit on him from their balcony that time would get off scot-free whenever Hinata found out who it was.
Just wait until the DNA results came back in, Hinata thinks.
He wasn't going to hurt them- oh no- but he's definitely going to give them the most intimidating stare-down he could possibly muster.
He wasn't feeling too confident, though, from the reaction Komaeda had that time he'd demonstrated it, where his companion seemed to be holding back a huffing sound in his throat from behind a gloved hand. Then, he’d proceeded to relent, and the laughs came out, and all Komaeda could offer was-
“Ah- how- frightening.”
-between his giggles, and Hinata kind of lost a good majority of hope that his plan would work.
But whatever. He's sure when it came the time, he was gonna look ready for murder. He'd practice for it.
Lost in the thought, Hinata suddenly looks up to the clock on his computer.
Oh shit.
Hinata ushers himself out of his seat. 1pm.
“It's an urgent meeting, Hinata-kun!” Komaeda had said this morning, as he popped his head into his office in the middle of dashing somewhere with what looked like an ungodly number of boxes. “Please don't be late!”
“Okay.” Hinata nodded, lifting himself up from the chair. “Do you need help?”
Komaeda shook his head forcefully, white hair swishing in front of his face almost comically. “It's fine, Hinata-kun! I can handle myself.” He props up the boxes. “I really shouldn't disturb you from your work.” He beams, and Hinata warms.
Komaeda's really come a long way.
Komaeda starts off, one, two steps and then looks back. “Aha, don't be late!” He hears, and the boy disappears down the corridor. Hinata, arm propped up on the back of his chair swivels back towards his desk.
So which room had he said again?
The elevator downstairs is painfully slow, for a late man. When it finally dings, and the door opens, Hinata sprints down the corridor, maneuvering around black and white suited colleagues. Distracted, he almost bumps into one of them- a man with auburn hair that he manages to dodge last-second. The man gives him a spiteful stare in return.
But then he’s there.
Room 401.
When he gets to the room, Komaeda's standing outside looking antsy until his eyes fall upon Hinata. The boy's mood immediately brightens, and the way he does is really nice.
He slows down as he closes in, Komaeda's holding his hands together in front of him almost like in prayer. Hinata lifts his hands out, ignoring Komaeda's held out hand, and wraps it around his back, pulling him tight into a hug that makes the boy before him stiffen.
“Heh. Sorry.” Hinata says, through his rapid, wheezy breath. “Sorry I'm late.”
Komaeda's firm, arms unsure what they're really doing before he slowly puts them onto Hinata's back… and when Hinata withdraws, Komaeda's lips are stiff and shaking, the stifle of an overwhelmed smile that doesn't fully come out.
“We're all here. We're waiting for you.” Hinata's the one who just ran, but it's Komaeda who seems suddenly breathless. “Ah- Hinata-kun, look!”
And the boy's gloved hand pushes the door open, to reveal a brightly colored room and a bunch of familiar faces. It’s a loud chorus of ill-matched roaring voices that sound mysteriously like…
A birthday wish?
“Hinata!” It’s sudden. Souda bounces out first, arms dragging him neck down and into the room, as Komaeda lingers in the doorway.
Nidai comes up from behind him, hand covering his head and crushing his perfectly-styled ahoge, ruffling the strands of his hair and he can hear the speakers start when Ibuki brushes down on her guitar strings. The room is loud, disorganized frenzy. There are boxes everywhere, and a worrying amount of party poppers strewn across the floor. At the end of the room is an elaborate feasting station: it’s a delicious array. Cups of Toshikoshi soba, and neatly packed bento boxes of seafood and yams lining the table. Grandest of all is the cake sitting in the center of the table. The food station seemed to come attached to a hardworking Akane, waving at Hinata with cheeks stuffed with food.
Hinata can hardly react before there’s a nervous tap on his shoulder, and he’s greeted by a familiar meek voice.
“H-Hinata-san? Y-your test results are back.” Mikan twiddles her thumbs in front of her sheepishly, before handing over several papers. From beneath Nidai's grip, Hinata accepts the papers, eyes glancing over the words, and then the image of apparent culprit on the report.
Hinata's mind flashes back to the man he narrowly evaded in the journey here, narrowing his eyes. So it was him all along!
“H-Happy Birthday!” Mikan stutters up, and Hinata's attention turns back to her bowing figure.
Hinata smiles in response. “Thanks.”
Birthday, huh? He'd forgotten it, in the midst of everyday life. He’d hardly expected anyone to remember, over the hustle and bustle of every day in the Future Foundation.
His stomach growls, and he feels his cheeks flush as Mikan giggles up at him. Folding the papers, pocketing them in his slacks, Hinata moves over to the end of the room to the table covered with food, rubbing his hands together when Teru's sidles up beside him with a smirk.
“Hey. Happy Birthday.” The Ultimate Cook chuckles. “Komaeda tells me you're a vanilla type of guy. So I took his advice.”
Hinata feels his face heat up, horrified eyes darting to Komaeda who seems to be fiddling with a small box at the side of the room. He's tapping on his phone, smiling down at it.
Is he talking to someone?
“Yeah. I do like vanilla. It's a good flavour.” Hinata turns back to Teru, trying his best to sound like that was a normal sentence real human beings would say.
He is hungry, though, so his eyes immediately search for the paper plates on the red checkered table cloth, but Teru puts out a hand and stops him.
“Nuh-uh.” He says, stroking short fingers on his chin, looking proud. “I know, as always, anything I make is irresistible. So, you can have as much as you want later… but your boyfriend has a knack for ruining parties, and I don't even want to imagine what would happen if he doesn't get what he wants.”
Teru chuckles, and he gestures over to the white-haired boy, whose now stood up and holding his phone to his chest.
Wait.
That's not Komaeda’s phone.
It's… just a phone.
The silence of the room is deafening, awkward, and Hinata's heart thrums in his chest. Even Ibuki's completely turned the sound off, as she holds her hands in front of her, laced in anticipation. Sonia's are grasped in front of her too, mouthing a quiet ‘Happy Birthday, Hinata-kun’ as she nods Hinata over to Komaeda, and his attention shifts immediately.
“Ahah, well.” Komaeda starts, stops, shuffles. “This is…” Komaeda's flushed, awkward, fiddling, awkward, standing, awkward, in the middle of the room. He seems a bit unfamiliar with actually having a spotlight on him. The silence seems to be getting to him, as he fidgets, not used to the attention when he wasn't garnering it unconsciously, in some sort of spectacle of hope.
God, Komaeda.
Hinata laughs, and seeing this, Komaeda seems to calm slightly, the shake in his hands disappearing. “This is… a lot of pressure, to give to someone like me, when it comes to speaking on behalf of, hah, the class… for something as important as this.” He looks around the room, a mixture of expectant curious faces. “I'm sure everyone in this room is aware that today is Hinata-kun's birthday. So today…” He looks up at Hinata. “We're here to celebrate.” The phone screen is still centered on his heart.
He hadn't even remembered, dates buried under numerous files and binders.
“Hinata-kun… you are an extremely special person who deserves the world. More than anything, I think meeting you was the Ultimate Luck.”
Hinata softens, stops in his tracks. Komaeda starts forward, meets him in the middle, fingers still fidgeting with the phone as he places it into Hinata's hands.
His fingers are still covering the screen, but below it is a sliver of pink. Under the stark black of his companion's leather glove, he sees a movement, like the gentle rise and fall of a yawn. It's a color that radiates tranquility- a warmth- and Hinata glances up from the phone to Komaeda's eyes.
“Ahah, we got you a phone!” Komaeda says, excitedly; light wobbles and shines in his irises.
“Well- we found it on the streets, but I put loads of features in it!” Hinata's eyes raise to the brightly colored boy, to see Souda raising a thumb and giving a wink. “Anything for my soul brother, right? I've got your back, Y`know?”
Hinata's speechless, before he looks back at the phone. Then he sees it.
He feels the heat well up in his chest, eyes lingering on Komaeda's hands, gently placed on the phone above his. The boy leans closer, lips and hair ghosting on Hinata's cheeks, as he lays a soft kiss on his neck.
“All of us want to say thank you, Hinata-kun. Happy Birthday.” He whispers, and Hinata can't even return the hug.
His eyes are closed, and he's willing his breath to stay steady. It's hard. It's really hard.
Komaeda leans away, and surveying Hinata under his gaze. With a calm smile, he steps back, and the class silently pass Hinata with curious, fond eyes. Hinata feels the bump of Souda's arm on his back, and Koizumi's silent tap on his shoulder as she walks past. Saionji looks ready to say something, but she seems to decide against it, expression softening to what looked like a smile before she glides after Koizumi.
“We'll be back soon, Hajime-chan!” from the door, Mioda waves. “Kazuichi-chan might have made it, but it's really a part of all of us!”
Hinata does his best to nod, cheek bitten to raw taste as he breathes out of his nose deeply, trying to stop the shudder of his chest.
By the door, Mioda gives one last look at him, before she turns to chatter excitedly, exiting the room last, about how cool the whole experience was… being connected with wires and all, like a sci-fi show.
The door closes.
He's alone in the room.
So he can finally cry.
“Hello, Hinata-kun.”
Soft.
“Long time no see.”
Gentle.
“How've you been?” Nanami chirps, when he opens his eyes, it's the first time he can see her and he couldn't even see her clearly. Her image is blurred diffraction; in light and water it waves.
Comforting.
He has to bring up his arm, wiping furiously at his face. When he does, he grits his teeth, turns his head upwards, trying to keep the emotions from cascading down his face, littering jewel drops on the phone.
“I've never been better.” He says.
Hinata can't control the wracking sobs that take over his frame.
He's never been so loved.
And now?
He's crying…
… in front of everyone.
The little part of everyone that he held in his hands.
He can't decide if he's choking or laughing.
“Hey, Nanami…”
She doesn't react to the droplets on the screen, still smiling.
“I'm good.”
In her smile, lies everyone's hearts…
That's what he held in his hands, and he's crying all over it.
How embarrassing.
…
Happy Birthday, Hinata-kun.
Love from: all of us ♡