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Komaeda’s laugh was raspy and pained, like the proclamation of a dying man. “Don’t you get it? I love you and it’s not going away anytime soon.”
*
Nagito Komaeda woke up in a haze, staring at the ceiling as if he resented it. The disdain on his features extended from his face onto the rest of his body, bathing his entire existence in it. Thick, heavy, palpable disdain, slowing his movements and dragging his voice. You see, Komaeda here has been faced with a question he could not possibly hope to find the answer for; this has caused the most troubling, stirring despair within him, one he felt disgusted by…
Disgusting, like me, huh… am I even worthy of the hope I so desperately crave?
He laughed to himself at the little self-contradiction in his statement, the laugh turning into a helpless chain of coughing non stop until Komaeda was able to regain self-control and make his way over to the small bathroom attached to his quarters. He stared deeply into his own eyes, the disdain overflowing, dominating every nerve in his body. Urges started to seep into his soul as he stared deeper within… urges that frankly scared Komaeda, as he was not one to be so familiar with such self-destructive behavior—
Heh, who am I kidding?
His drowning disdain had overcome him from the previous night, the intrusive thoughts in his head not ceasing to silence themselves until some ungodly hours of the night bordering on morning. One question protruded from the rest, almost as if in big, bulky letters printing themselves into the very neurons inside his head… overwhelming, massive, persisting and incessant. Is love hope… or is it despair?
Love can be selfless, expressed in the form of sacrifice, putting oneself last and placing themselves into the role of a stepping stone for hope; love can be obsessive, jealous, possessive and poisonous, leading those who hold it for their object of affection to be prone to despair due to unrequited feelings. Hope… despair… which does love stand for?
Komaeda clasped both of his hands together and stretched his arms upwards as far as he could, shutting his eyes to prevent the disdain from spreading any further. Today was the day. His date with death. Komaeda could practically feel his luck running dry as if it were the very blood through his veins being drained slowly. He’d lived far beyond his expiration date at this point, this had to be it. He felt it in his bones. And how was he spending those precious final moments? Drowning in this awful disdain, for he couldn’t even find it in himself to leave his room and bid his goodbyes to everyone else. What was the point, anyway? Everyone had already found their way into a new future, Komaeda simply had to slink back and not be a part of it anymore. He considered throwing himself overboard, leaving the mystery of his death unresolved, much like in the Neo World Program (or so he thought) and perhaps, if spiritual and religious beliefs were to be believed, join with his old friend Chiaki once more in heaven!... But, who was he kidding? Heaven? Someone like him? He perished the thought in dismissive laughter.
He had to make sure no traces were left behind, though. He was certain his friends, his classmates, his fellow symbols of hope would eventually figure it out for themselves— just because everyone was out of the Neo World Program didn’t justify everyone suddenly losing their detective abilities from the game and the experience of class trials, right? At least, Komaeda sure hoped so. He smiled widely, his first genuine smile of the day. That was always a moment for him to take in and appreciate, breathe in entirely… the first smile, induced by none other than the perfect feeling of hope… how beautiful it is .
Screw it, he decided he’d allow fate to decide whether or not today was the final day for his luck to take action. He spun around, determined to make the most out of what could be his very last day and went to unlock his doorknob only to find it already unlocked. That’s odd… I’d never do something silly like that, you know? He laughed to himself, stepping back and spinning around only to find none other than…
“Why, good morning Hajime.” He smiled even wider in delight at the sight. The boy of his dreams, sitting on the edge of his bed. Of course this wasn’t really him, though. He could tell. The rigid posture, the fact he was able to slip in unnoticed… y’know, the glowing red eyes .
The boy simply looked up at him, his gaze slicing with sharp red light across the dimly lit room. Silence, of course. Quite characteristic of Izuru to have such a response (or, well, lack thereof.)
“...Or perhaps it’d be more appropriate to greet you as Izuru?” Komaeda corrected himself, walking over slowly to his ruby eyed companion. “What brings you here on this lovely day?”
“You’re late.” Izuru responded, matter-of-factly. Komaeda blinked rapidly for a moment before he glanced over at his clock. 11:18AM. That was certainly… unlike him, he thought. He was usually out and about with the others (mainly Peko and Sonia, everyone else gave themselves the luxury to sleep in a little more) at 8:00AM sharp. Sleeping in like that… was he a child or something?
Komaeda waved his hand dismissively, pondering over what exactly had caused his late entrance to set Hajime off to the extent of switching with Izuru to check in on him. Or maybe Izuru did this of his own volition? Who knows… “Did I happen to worry you? I’m sorry, Izuru, you can see I’m fine, right?”
“You had given up, had you not?”
Komaeda is taken aback by the question for a split second before regaining his composure and offering his usual easygoing smile. “Well, it’s no use debating someone of your caliber in that regard. Yes, I woke up sensing my luck had run dry, and, well…”
Izuru interrupted him, holding up his hand. “You were going to pull a disappearing act on all of us, leading us to believe you’d committed suicide out of respect for us to not have to lug your corpse around. I suspected, with your disease, that it would come to this…”
No one could compete with Izuru’s level of talent to this day, that much was certain. “So you came to check up on me. Aw shucks, for you to care for someone like me…” Komaeda blushed lightly, scratching his head. “Still, that doesn’t explain the sudden switch. Izuru, I haven’t seen you in a while…”
Izuru shook his head, standing up from the bed. “Hajime suspected you might have passed, and as he sensed something he could not handle himself, he retreated into his subconscious and allowed me to take care of the situation, you could say.”
Komaeda smiled gently, honored that Hajime would place his worries on him. “Ah, I see, and thus, Izuru came to my aid… your luck is surely bountiful, producing the least jarring outcome for Hajime. Little old me can live another day!”
Izuru stared deeply into Komaeda's eyes, sending a shiver down the latter’s spine. Is this what having a crush felt like? He surely had felt that towards Hajime before, but could he even count Izuru as the same person? Komaeda did not want to double cross his friend… not as if he’d return the feelings ever, anyway. “Such despair…” Komaeda grumbled under his breath, his mind exiting the room and descending into the depths of his own self, all notion of his surroundings swallowed by his whirlwind of emotions.
“You will continue to live.” Izuru said. What decorated his voice was not wishful thinking, rather a commanding tone that insinuated this was the one absolute truth that could be. Komaeda continuing to live.
The two parted ways as Izuru retreated into Hajime’s quarters, presumably to give himself some time between switching. Komaeda figured it was not something that could happen as easily as just sneezing your way into the alternative personality. Or maybe fainting as one and waking up as the other. That sounded familiar… but Komaeda decided to brush it off and make his way into the dining hall. He walked with a slight drag; after all, he was not yet used to his robotic arm, though he believed getting a fair amount of fresh air and a walk should serve to help his cause. He was greeted by a worried Sonia, who nearly bumped into him with a tray on her hands. Luckily, all contents of the tray remained intact as they slid into the nearest table in the dining hall. Komaeda smiled inwardly before greeting Sonia.
“Nagito, you had me worried sick, you know?” Sonia clutched a hand to her chest and exhaled sharply in relief before throwing her arms around Komaeda in an embrace. Komaeda warmly returned it. It felt nice to be cared for, despite all he did to his fellow classmates and symbols of hope throughout the duration of the Neo World Program. To his surprise, it seemed that almost everyone forgot much of what transpired during their time in the fake Jabberwock Island, with people such as Ibuki, Mikan, and Hiyoko hanging out with one another as if nothing had gone wrong. Same went for Teruteru and Byaku- er, Ultimate Impostor, as well as Nekomaru, Gudham, and the like. Komaeda found this to be most interesting… could it be everyone truly forgot, their memories hazy, or had they all decided to forgive and forget?
“Um, Nagito, are you listening?” Sonia’s voice snapped him out of his haze, and he blinked repeatedly, focusing his attention back on his companion.
“Sonia, I’m sorry. Yes, I’ve just been… a little out of it, you could say.” Komaeda treaded carefully so as to not make any worrisome comments. “I just couldn’t sleep quite well last night, musta been some sort of stomach bug or something, and thus I ended up sleeping in this morning.” He shrugged. Nodding, Sonia went on to brief him on the morning’s events, something about Akane and Nekomaru dwelling again and Teruteru losing “inspiration” on cooking for a couple minutes and… ah, Komaeda couldn’t keep up. Instead, his eyes wandered past Sonia into the hallway leading into their quarters.
Komaeda could have sworn he saw the intense glow of red for just an instant; and then it was gone, as if it had never been there to begin with. Perhaps Komaeda could continue to entertain himself for a little longer. After all, he had to heed by Izuru’s words, no?
Sneering to himself, he felt the bottled emotions within him stirring further.
“Interesting…”