Work Text:
The first week was a little worrying, but it wasn’t anything anyone wasn’t used to. Everyone was still recovering, after all, and there were times that one of their classmates would disappear into the ether- or god knows where- before reappearing at the dining room like nothing had happened. It wasn’t until Komaeda had been gone a second week that alarm bells started ringing, and a search party was sent out.
When Hinata opens the room door, he's not sure what to expect. The old motel on the third island had avoided the notice of their search party. Souda said he'd checked it but apparently he hadn't done a good enough job. It wasn't until Hinata realised all the blinds were rolled down that Hinata decided to check for himself. The blinds were usually all half-closed, but the way they were closed now was too intentional. Hinata doesn't recall things ever done so immaculately- how neat it was screamed hide me .
Opening up into each room was darkness, and the smell of musk and mould that permeated the motel after years of neglect. Seeing each room abandoned and dusty called for some airing out. Before Hinata left each room, he gave the blinds a roll up and opened the window for sunlight to enter. The smell and old air would be replaced by the summer outside. There were condom wrappers, and Hinata crinkled his nose at the condoms when emptying the trash. He had no idea how long they've been there, or who on the island was irresponsible enough to let these biological materials fester.
It's only when he exited the third room that he picks it up, a kind of low murmuring from the end of the corridor.
His heart rate picks up, and he's walking in two-step paces until he reaches the door, but by the time he gets there it's mysteriously silent. Hinata gives the door a knock, and there is still silence. He gives it one more knock before deciding- to hell with it. He turns the knob, and pushes the door open to another dark room.
If one didn't focus hard enough, or if they decided only to have a peek, the stillness could have masqueraded as deception. But because the door is wide open, and the dim light from the corridor shone into the room, vaguely, he sees the shadow of a boy tucked into the bed looking straight at him.
"Komaeda." Hinata says, reaffirming to himself that it is indeed Komaeda. Hair paler than his skin, messily strewn in all directions.
He stares at him for a few seconds. The other boy lay still as a statue. Finally, maybe after realising that Hinata wouldn't disappear anytime soon, Hinata hears a shuffle as Komaeda starts to sit up.
…
"They were here yesterday. They were around the curtains there, in the corner of the curtains- no- over there- Hinata-kun.”
“What were?”
“The apparitions.” Komaeda says. Each syllable enunciated deliberately, like a man getting used to his own voice.
“Hallucinations?" says Hinata. Now that Hinata has closed the door upon Komaeda's request, the room is dark inside, and Hinata can hardly see anything for the drawn curtains. Small rims of light appear around it, but it only lights clouds of dust. There is a figure in shadow to his left, nestled into the bed. He is now sitting upright, blanket folded around him like a half cocoon. The voice came from there.
“They're apparitions, Hinata-kun. They've been here for days. You shouldn’t disrespect them.” Hinata can hear the small pitter patter of fingers along the quilt. It was like Komaeda was playing piano in the dark, a private performance, meant for himself that Hinata has walked in on. “Ah, look. She's angry at you-"
“Are you playing around with me?” If Hinata had any more patience, perhaps he’d be calmer… but to find Komaeda for the first time in two weeks, wrapped up in the dingy motel? His initial fear was turning into impatience. On his way into the room, Hinata kicked over a bin bag overflowing with crisp packets and biscuits. A few cans of half-empty blue ram cans stood on the bedside stand. If Hinata bothered to look around the room, he knew there would definitely be more. Whoever drank it wasn’t good at finishing carbonated beverages quickly.
Komaeda gives a solitary chuckle. On a normal day he might have strung him along a little further. “Maybe.” Komaeda says, with a small shrug. “Just so you know, Hinata-kun, they were actually here before. They're just not here right now.”
“The hallucinations?”
“Apparitions.” Komaeda corrects, with one finger pointed up, swirling around the top a little. “You shouldn't insult guests. Would you be happy if someone pretended you didn't exist?”
A strange swirling pools in Hinata’s gut, the mixture of discomfort and sympathy. “Komaeda…”
“What are you here for?” Komaeda quips, immediate, like he's afraid to lose direction of conversation.
“I’ve been looking for you.” Hinata’s brow is furrowed. “I mean- we all are- we’ve all… look, Saionji’s not gonna say it, but we’re all concerned.”
Komaeda laughs. “That's unnecessary.”
“It's been two weeks, and no one's seen you. God, have you been here alone all this time?”
“I'm not alone, Hinata-kun.”
It takes Hinata a second to figure he's talking about the spirits.
It's enough to start him walking towards Komaeda, though he stops halfway to consider that Komaeda came here to hide. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't flip Komaeda over to search him for injuries, even if not knowing what the man had been up to for 2 weeks made Hinata's stomach curl.
"Have you hurt yourself?” Hinata resists the urge to pick up Komaeda’s arm, ask him to remove the blanket he’s wrapped in, survey him for injury. It wouldn’t be appropriate, especially as he’s had to get through barrier after barrier to get here. Komaeda obviously hadn't wanted to be found. He'd come into himself, purposefully, to the most unlikely place he could think of to feel… safe?
But Hinata looks around, at the cans and dust and empty crisp packets, and the mountains of pot noodles he starts to see hidden under the desk at the end of the room.
He wonders if Komaeda's really safest here, with only himself.
“Nope. I'm well, Hinata-kun. I appreciate you looking for me, but I'm sorry to waste your time. You can leave if you want to." Komaeda's smile is as unconvincing as ever.
"What if I don't want to?"
It draws Komaeda aback slightly. Komaeda's finally looking right at Hinata, and not running away like he has been all this time. "Why would you want to stay?" He says, as if the thought is unimaginable.
Like the idea of leaving Komaeda alone was ever a comfortable one. Hinata had left on Komaeda's suggestion twice, and the second time, he'd ended up dead. Discomfort still gripped at his chest, at memories of the stomach-churning horror he'd felt upon seeing Komaeda tied up on the ground, spear ripped through his stomach, eyes open in terror…
And then to learn, afterwards, it had been inflicted by himself?
It'd happened once. It wouldn't happen again.
Hinata settles on a firm "I can't just leave you alone."
As if something clicks in his head, Komaeda nods. "Ahah… right, of course. It makes sense you wouldn't trust me, after everything I've done." Komaeda gestures to himself, lifeless arm pointed to his chest. Enoshima's arm, sewn onto Komaeda's missing one sloppily, though somehow the blood vessels had managed to connect by luck, and blood flowed through keeping the hand fresh - albeit useless. Hinata's eyes follow it. He'd have to do something about it eventually. Komaeda continues. "But I can assure you that I have no plans similar to back then, in this state. Not when everything is going so well, and everyone is happy, and I-" The hand flops, and Komaeda does two blinks, as if he's processing what to say. "Ah… excuse me. I just can't figure out if you visiting is good or bad luck, Hinata-kun. You should really leave soon."
Hinata feels his brow furrowed in frustration. “What do you mean?”
"Hinata-kun, I'm happy as ever. Everyone else is happy- things are as they should be."
"Now you're just being cryptic. There's no way I can leave you now."
There’s hesitation, as Komaeda contemplates those words. His mouth quirks into a stiff smile, like it’s something he’s kept in that wants to come out, but can’t. “If I tell you, Hinata-kun, you definitely wouldn’t leave.”
Hinata drags a stool beside the bed, and props onto it, reaffirming that he was serious about staying. This keeps Komaeda fidgeting on the bed. He fidgets for a few minutes with his fingers, and leans back into the bed-rest. Hinata almost thinks Komaeda's forgotten about him, before suddenly he speaks again.
“I'm really sorry that you had to walk into this, I really wasn't expecting any visitors. Usually cleanliness is all that’s good about me, so this must be disappointing, huh? It makes me embarrassed that you'd see me like this.”
Hinata waits for him to spill his mind. He can tell Komaeda’s anxious, from the way he dances around the topic.
When it finally comes, Komaeda sighs, and goes quiet for a bit.
"They say voices appear at your deathbed, you know, Hinata-kun? I used to wake up at night, and another patient would be screaming there was someone above their bed. They always came to my room when there wasn’t much time left. Do you think maybe, finally, it’s time I could...?" Komaeda says, peacefully. Komaeda’s fingers are fiddling above the blanket, and Hinata notices that they’re locked as if in loose prayer.
"Die?” Hinata says. How Komaeda sounds so wishful and hopeful eases over Hinata’s shoulders, into his breath, wrapping around his lungs and heart. When Komaeda nods, it squeezes his chest tightly. It hurts him. “Komaeda… it hurts when you say those things in that kind of tone. Is this what you were thinking about? All by yourself?"
Komaeda’s face morphs from one of feigned seriousness, to one where his eyes fall to nowhere and a smile graces his lips. Komaeda looks gentle in the way he does when he’s left his will to the wind. He's in one of those moods where he talks, and whatever slips through his lips is a filtered, warped version of whatever he was feeling.
“Hinata-kun, for everything I did, fate is already too kind to me. These are all things I deserve. I have these feelings because it's everything I've taken from others, and they're still waiting, here to watch the end of the trainwreck.”
Hinata winces out loud, and blue-gray eyes dart to him.
“It’s for the best.” Komaeda laughs. “I hadn’t expected to make it this far. There were so many times, I could have died at any moment. But I haven’t! I’m so lucky. It could have been on the plane- but instead, it claimed my parents. I was told I had six months left to live, and my nurses died before I did. But now that everything is peaceful, I can finally hear them.”
Hinata can only stare in horror.
“It’s so much clearer than before, Hinata-kun, which means it’s closer now! And they’re telling me this...” Komaeda leans closer, closer, and Hinata only budges out of courtesy. It’s a flurry in his head, trying to capture everything Komaeda’s telling him, puzzle it together in real-time. The boy hooks a finger into Hinata’s shirt, pulling him closer, like it’s a secret. “Gathered together with you Ultimates- it’s you, or me. Stuck on this island, finally, my luck has nowhere else to go. I’m waiting for it- for something to happen. They’re waiting for me, it’s time for me to-”
“For gods sake, don’t insult us!” Hinata tugs himself off Komaeda’s grasp. “Do you really think you can think about all this by yourself and not tell us? And we’d just let it happen?”
“Ah, I knew saying these things would come off wrong...” Komaeda scoffs, eyes lowering knowingly, unimpressed. He sighs, like he’s processing heavy regret. “It’s impossible for kind people to sit back while something like me speaks.” His voice is steady- steadier than before- so matter of fact it shouldn’t belong to someone who had just invited his own death. Confusion lingers within Hinata, until Komaeda speaks again.
“In that case, it’ll please you to hear this was just a joke! Just leave now, Hinata-kun. I’ve appreciated your time.”
Oh. Yeah, right. As if he hadn’t heard that one before, the first time he’d told him about his history. A story so unbelievable, the Hinata back then had taken him for his word. Seeing Komaeda here, trembling in his words… it was obvious it hadn’t been a joke back then, too.
Like hell he’d believe that again.
”It’s not that easy, Komaeda! You can’t just leave us like this.”
“Why not?”
“Cos shit happens- but do you really think dying would rid the world of despair? Solve world hunger? Make our lives better? You think taking everything that happens and turning it in towards yourself really helps anything?” The casual, distant tone with which Komaeda talked about this, like he was deciding what to have for breakfast or what to wear to the cinema, was scary. “Our lives are better because we're all together."
Komaeda purses his lips, stares at Hinata to ask if that is really the case. Hinata stares back, until the realization hits him.
“We’re not gonna disappear so easily.” He murmurs.
“How do you know?”
“I… I don’t. But no one can.” It doesn’t convince Komaeda, listening calmly. Hinata can imagine, now, a younger boy with tousled white hair, too young to be anywhere close to knowing what death meant, waiting as the doctor gave his diagnosis. The first time. The second time. Maybe even a third and fourth. “But the thing is… I know I don’t want you to die. I can’t imagine our lives being better without you…” Hinata bites his lip. “The world outside is in chaos. I think it’s pretentious to think it’s all because of you. To act as if there were no other factors involved… no offence.”
"You always act like it's your fault that fate played you around it's finger, the way Enoshima played us around hers." Hinata continues. “I mean, you've done... things, but we all have. It doesn't mean you deserve..." Hinata grits his teeth, upset. At what, Hinata doesn’t really know. At fate? The way it’d handled what had happened to all of them? What had happened to him ? What had happened to Komaeda ? "It doesn't mean you deserved to be in pain, Komaeda. Life’s not this kind of equivalent exchange bullshit. It's probably hard for you to understand, but…”
"Life's not really about all the things that fucked around with us and put us where we are. It's about all the things we have the power to control, and where we end up after that." Hinata says. It’s only after this that he realises it’s just as much to his himself, and his head, as it is Komaeda. It wasn’t as if his whole past was clean. He had blood on his hands, from a string of bad decisions he’d made, that placed him at the heart of a nightmare. He was still alive now. That fact didn’t come lightly. There were still times he wondered if him being allowed a second chance was a mistake.
"Our own thoughts are a hard one." Hinata whispers. The room is suddenly chilly, as if a ghost had run down his spine. After all, if Komaeda had demons, they all did. "It’s a hard thing to control, I mean. I bet it must be hard, to have ghosts talking to you. It’s hard enough having them telling you to die, you don't need your own telling you that too.”
Komaeda gives a dull laugh, but he softens. “You talk like you have experience. Perhaps... you hear them too?”
It was a logical conclusion, after all. In every way, their whole class was far from innocent. Unspeakable things had happened that involved every single one of them. A team-effort.
“I… I mean... “ Hinata stammers. ”Just one.”
“Just one...” Komaeda’s eyes widen at that. “Ah- how silly of me, Hinata-kun. Of course Kamukura-kun-”
“Not Kamukura's. Kamukura doesn’t really tell me anything bad. Or good, really. He just kinda…” Hinata takes a deep breath, stretching out his back a little, scratching at his head. “It’s kind of cliche, but… I don’t think anyone could ever hate me more than I can.”
Komaeda blinks, as if the notion of anyone hating Hinata is the most absurd thing he’s ever encountered. Regardless of his reserve course student status, what had impacted him at all was truly Hinata’s doing, and not Kamukura’s. And despite his hand in the destruction of the world, Komaeda finds, it’s hard to blame such a thing on him. It hadn’t been Hinata’s choice, or intention.
Just... unfortunate luck.
It slips from his lips, before he can catch it. “Ah… I don’t see why someone as wonderful as you should feel that way.”
Hinata groans, waving it away, hoping to wave the flush in his face out too. “Stop it.”
“Even if you were a Reserve Course student, you-”
"Please." The pouty glare Hinata shot at him was almost comical. How Komaeda could make him feel both embarrassingly flattered and embarrassingly lame at the same time was astounding.
“Ah, I’m sorry," Komaeda smiles, solemnly.
They both sit in the dark, thinking. Now that the tension is out of the air, it was comfortable…
For the first time in a few weeks, Komaeda realises the room is silent. His eyes move over to Hinata, making faces at the ground like he’s trying to fight the flush in his face and soul. A fondness washes over himself too, for everything Hinata is, and for the things he feels when he’s around him.
For a reserve course student, serenity really did follow him, and it melted into Komaeda’s veins. It’s something he’s relatively sure hadn’t come up in the small moments he had with Kamukura, so the feeling was really all his own…
Komaeda is happy, though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, that Hinata had bothered to find him. That hadn’t been a lie. He was used to his words- almost as uncontrollable as his luck- frightening others away. Though everyone was kind enough to be civil around him, there was always a fear that one day everyone- and especially Hinata-kun- would come to his senses, and hate him.
It was a selfish feeling, to want Hinata to come and leave simultaneously. It was as contradictory as wanting to live with others, and needing others to be safe and happy as well. To be alive was to consciously hurt others, but…
Why would Hinata hurt if he died?
It’s not a possibility that had ever occurred to him. It’s not something he really understands, and he’s not sure if he wants to, but it pulls at his heartstrings like everything did about Hinata.
Like always, and always, and always .
"What you said about it hurting, Hinata-kun..." Hinata's eyes turn so calculatedly, like they're trying to decipher how much Komaeda has found out, what road he's taken or if he's reached a dead end. The attention makes Komaeda blush, so he looks up to the ceiling, because it's more comfortable to have the unimpressed blank wall staring at him than whatever Hinata was trying to do - has always been trying to do - ever since the first day he'd met the ordinary boy. Like he was trying to look through his surface, straight at his heart and extract information Komaeda couldn't afford to let out. "Can you still hurt?"
For the first time since Hinata's started talking today, Komaeda can sense a flinch. Nothing physically, in the unsurprised still figure of the boy sitting beside of him, but almost as if something within him shook.
"I think so. Of course." Hinata says. "I... I mean, I know what I do and don't want. I try to..." Seeing Hinata, ungraceful and pained, looking from the floor to the ceiling, out the window to anywhere else but him.
It sets his mind at ease.
"Even with everything I am, you still don't want me to disappear?"
“Of course not.” Hinata retorts. “We’re… friends, right?”
Friends. The word sends a shiver down Komaeda’s spine, and he clutches at himself. Hinata leans over in worry, but Komaeda shakes his head, a shuddery smile on his lips. "You make it so hard, Hinata-kun." Hinata's eyes fall on Komaeda, hunched over the blanket.
From the first day he'd met him on the sand and agreed to be dragged around so messily, when he'd known that death was a good option he could take at any opportunity, but the other boy had messed things up and made it fun.
From the day in the Neo World Program when he was in the hospital bed sweating and sure he was going to die, desperately and embarrassingly reaching out just one last time because Hinata had made him realise that death was terrifying. Back then, he hated himself because he should have been relieved to die from Despair Disease- he’d be a good person for it... but still he’d selfishly tried to ask him to stay, even if his words were slurred and beyond comprehension.
And then finally, right before he'd taken the spear in his hand, and Hinata had stopped him, remembering how hard it had been to turn him away, even with the realisation that the boy was anything but the Ultimate Hope. Hinata was a common boring reserve course student devoid of hope or despair... It was that day he’d found out he still had emotion, instead of the sheer faith in hope he preached.
Emotion. The word rung in Komaeda’s mind, because he’d cast it away long ago as useless and dangerous, because everyone he'd ever loved had died. And even now, with the boy beside him with such an ordinary body, a disordinary brain but the most extraordinary soul...
" You always make everything so hard. "
“Hey…” Hinata places a hand on Komaeda’s shoulder, finally, and Komaeda’s gaze lingers on the contact.
"Well… if we’re friends… and if you don't hate me, then perhaps I do need to do something about the voice in my head after all. At least one of them."
“At least your own.” Hinata says, smiling. It’s the first time Komaeda sees Hinata really smile today, because of something he’s said. It makes his heart so bright Komaeda probably doesn’t need the sunlight once Hinata leaves. It’s like he’s gone outside, and he feels refreshed despite being cooped in the room under three layers of dusty blankets, sweating the sheets. "Komaeda, I hope they stop." Hinata starts to settle in his chair, leaning back. "Are you sure I can't stay?"
"Ah... Hinata-kun, you're really asking too much of me. To ask my mind to shut up, and to have me not worry if you're in the room while I sleep?" Komaeda chuckles. “Please don’t say things like that, Hinata-kun… it gives me hope.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Hinata presses, inching closer in a way that makes Komaeda’s voice skip a beat. “If you’re so stubborn, and you really can’t wait for me to leave…” Hinata grimaces, as if a particularly painful memory passes his mind. Komaeda feels a sense of deja vu, though Hinata’s getting a bit too close for his mind to work hard enough to decipher quite what hazy image is forming in his mind. “I’ll just have to leave something with you, I guess.”
Before he knows it, arms reach over his shoulder, and he’s hugged against a warm, firm embrace. One of Hinata’s hands is digging into the bed, but his other is firmly tucked around him. It’s warmth that beats the blankets around him, or the summer’s day, no question. Then, the other reaches out to wrap around him too. It’s not just warm. Komaeda’s wondering if he’s sick with disease again, because he feels his internal body temperature rise.
Komaeda wants to warn him, wants to push against him, wants to tell him he’s contagious, contaminated, that the ghosts will travel to him, Hinata-
“It’s okay.” Hinata says. And when he says it so reassuringly, how can Komaeda even react. It’s so self assured and calm. He feel Hinata’s deep breath, and the shudder of his sigh against his chest. “Komaeda…?”
“Hinata-kun?
“I know it’s hard to control your thoughts, and I can’t hear what goes on inside your head. And I don’t know what the ghosts tell you…” Hinata pauses. “But I’m-”
It feels like time stops. Komaeda’s eyes widen.
I’m “glad”...
Komaeda’s heart beats.
I’m glad “you’re”…...
Hinata speaks, over his shoulder. It’s a single line, and it leaves Komaeda’s chest beating and glowing in a way that almost hurts.
I’m glad you’re …………
"alive.”
It doesn’t process immediately. Even after Hinata pulls away, the words echo in his head. The particular combination of words were confusing, confusing, misplaced? Confusing. Confusing? Confusing?
Glad he’s…?
Shifting awkwardly from leg to leg, now standing upright, Hinata clears his throat. “I… Uh… I’m sorry if that was awkward.”
Komaeda shakes his head, the warmth lingering around him, as he pulls the blanket over himself, to fill the empty air. But it’s warm, warm. Warm. Up his neck, in his face. The sun wasn’t this warm. The sun wasn’t this warm, but Hinata was.
“I’ll… come again tomorrow. I’ll whip something up, too, so you’re not just eating crisps all day. I-if there’s too much in your head… I get it, it’s tiring.” Komaeda doesn’t look up at Hinata when he speaks, but he’s relatively sure despite his voice that Hinata’s heart is racing too, from the sighs the man tries to hide, trying to keep his voice stable.
“Are you… really serious about this , Hinata-kun?”
“I don’t make half-promises.”
“Do you know what you’re getting into?”
“I’m just bringing you a sandwich. It’s no big deal.” Hinata notices Komaeda’s eyes watching him, unwavering uncertainty. “I’ll be back. I promise.” Hinata holds out his pinky, and Komaeda doesn’t know how such an innocent gesture can be so intimidating. “Especially if you’re gonna make that face every time I come.” What face? Was he making a face? What kind of terrible expression could he possibly be showing right now? Trembling, exposed. Probably ill. “You just have to promise you’ll be here too.”
Komaeda brings his hands up, hesitantly. It’s Hinata who is offering, showing no intention to retract, but Komaeda’s eyes still flicker to his hand. When he finally hooks his pinky around Hinata’s… it’s a childish thing, a pinky promise. But it feels important.
“I can never tell if you’re stupidly brave, or brilliantly stupid.” Komaeda pouts, eyebrows knitting together in almost challenging unsureness.
“Well… I have a man so bored he memorises cereal box nutrition-labels in my head. I agreed to a lobotomy to put him there. What do you think I am?”
“Probably both.”
Hinata gives the curtest, stiffest nod he can get out there. “Probably.” Hinata mumbles. “You’d think having someone filling up your brain would be the least bit entertaining, but it’d be good for me to have a good conversation too.”
“There’s always everyone else, Hinata-kun. People enjoy talking to you. You’d never be alone.”
“...You think so?” Hinata says, like his popularity is unknown to him. Komaeda wonders how someone so tuned-in to others can be so clueless about himself. If only Hinata could see in himself the unplaceable feeling that Komaeda could sense from the man- that captured the rest of the class the way it did. The sense of serenity and life within him…
He wonders if even someone like that couldn’t love himself, how anyone could possibly be able to.
“I mean… everyone else isn’t… you. It’s just not… the same.” Hinata turns away, face turning the faintest shade of pink even in the dark. “I like it… spending time with you. Even if we’re just…” Hinata’s gesturing into the air. “You know.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Komaeda asks, as Hinata reaches the door.
“Yeah.” Hinata chuckles. “I’ll see you again tomorrow. Have a rest, yeah? I hope it’s quieter, tonight. If the voices come back, just remember, I’m-”
“I know." Komaeda waves.
Hinata turns away, but he still looks unsure, somehow. "W-well... if you need me..? You know where I'll-"
"Hinata-kun." Hinata freezes, and Komaeda chuckles. "I think I'll be fine. Thank you." The light of the corridor is shining into his eyes, and it’s blinding, so he can’t help but squint before settling under the blanket once again… and then, with a click of the door, Hinata’s gone.
It’s just him, the darkness, and history. For the first time in weeks, it was silent but for the hammering of his heart. If the ghosts weren’t back, they would be eventually.
He’s tired.
Tired.
Tired.
So in the end, Hinata had known, that coming wouldn’t have made them disappear, huh?
Komaeda had nightmares, sometimes. He was sure they’d be back sooner or later, as the warmth drifted over his body, and the exhaustion from his beating heart dragged his limbs to sleep one by one, and his eyelids closed.
But for now, for the first time in weeks, it was quiet in his head.
There was just one voice - Hinata’s voice- that stood in his mind.
“I’m glad you’re alive.”
Even with hundreds of voices crowding his head, as long as Hinata’s was there, at least he didn’t have to deal with them alone.
One day, maybe Hinata’s voice could strengthen his, and he could say that about himself as well.
But for now, it’d do.