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Being the symbol of hope could be a real tough job sometimes.
Makoto tried not to think about it, and when he did, attempted to ignore all the muddled feelings that came with his role. It’s not that he was resentful about having to embody everyone’s goals and having to appear happy and optimistic all the time. Definitely not. Resentment is not a very hopeful emotion after all, and Makoto is supposed to be a hope-only kind of guy.
He’s supposed to be able to handle all of this. There’s no danger to him anymore. He’s safe, he has a hot boyfriend, and he’s leading a global effort to make the world a better place. So he never cracks, never feels anything but endless optimism, and definitely never wishes he could back out.
And on the off chance that he does (which will never happen), he can just take five minutes to sort himself out, and then hop right back on the hope train. Makoto isn’t selfish, he’s not going to derail his friends’ focus just because of little wobble.
They all have much more important things to do than listen to Makoto complain about being hailed as a hero. Honestly, who would do that?
He’s admired by people, he saves people, and everyone thanks him frequently. He has nothing to complain about.
Makoto’s life is perfect, and there are absolutely no moments where he prays he could disappear.
Not at all.
“Naegi? I’d like to know what I’m supposed to do with the recent influx of refugees on the island. I understand there’s nowhere for them to go, but it really is getting quite crowded here. We don’t have room for this many people.” Sonia looks somewhat overwhelmed, surprising when you consider she’s dealt with much worse than a few too many people in one space.
Makoto scratches his chin. “You know you can call me Makoto, right? And, um, do we not have any tents left? If we do, speak to Kyoko about getting some help setting them up, and if we don’t...”
Fuck this is so hard. Why does he have to be the one to make all the decisions? Kyoko organised the split from the Foundation!
“If we don’t, then I’ll talk to Komaru, see if there’s anywhere available in Towa.”
Sonia nods and curtseys. “Thank you Makoto.”
He hums and watches her leave, before freezing up at the sight of her shadow.
For a second it looked like...
He shakes himself, and turns back to his paperwork, trying not to concentrate on the thoughts that are bombarding him.
His fingers quiver, and then there’s a sharp sting.
Oh, the joys of papercuts.
Makoto avoids looking at the tiny injury. Even small droplets of blood make him queasy. Which was ironic, considering he’s dealing with wounded people pretty frequently.
As much as he shoves down all the emotion that even a single patch for blood brings, it’s not very easy. It throws him back into memories he’d much rather forget.
Whatever. Nothing a small bandaid won’t fix.
Mikan’s in charge of all medical supplies, from q-tips to plaster casts, as expected for the Ultimate Nurse.
She doesn’t notice Makoto’s entrance, and he hopes that maybe he won’t have to talk to her, maybe he can just grab a bandaid and walk away.
As quietly as possible, he opens up the drawer he knows they’re in, but he’s forgotten just how clumsy he is. The entire drawer slides out completely, clattering to the floor despite his attempt to catch it.
Mikan turns.
“O-oh! Naegi. I didn’t know you were here!” She squeaks, and kneels down to help pick everything up.
“Sorry. I didn’t want to bother you. Just here to get something for myself. Sorry. I didn’t mean to drop all this...”
Mikan laughs softly, and it chills Makoto’s bones.
She sounds so much like her.
“It’s alright. I’m pretty clumsy too!” She looks at the wall. “What do you need?”
“Just a bandaid. It’s fine.”
Makoto can feel his heart thump wildly. It’s not Mikan’s fault that they have similar laughs. Not her fault that she was brainwashed into falling in love. Not her fault. Not her fault.
He wants to throw up at the small movement of her shoulders. Why does she remind him so much of her?
They don’t even look alike.
Mikan hands him a small sticky plaster with a shy smile.
Her nails are painted. Red.
Just like-
“Thanks Tsumiki.” Makoto stands on shaky legs, trying to keep himself composed.
She nods. “Eheh! You’re welcome.”
He hurries away as fast as his jelly legs can move.
No matter how much Makoto tries, he feels tense around all the Remnants. He knows everything they did was not their fault, and Junko’s influence over them is long gone.
But being brainwashed isn’t exactly something easy to shake off, he supposes.
Sometimes Nekomaru’s eyes would linger too long on weapons that Hina confiscates from refugees. Kazuichi would be in the middle of describing how he could alter the engineering of something, and he’d slip into a cold voice at the idea of increasing something’s capacity to be violent. Fuyuhiko might pause in between lifting crates, and it’s clear he has the urge to drop them into the sea, just to spite all those they’ve been rescuing. Kyoko once had to stop Nagito from taking a knife to his robotic hand, and was met with cackles, until his eyes focused and he apologised profusely.
Makoto knows he shouldn’t compare them to their past selves. They’re good people. All of them. And they’re trying their best.
He was the one to want to include them in their rebuilding efforts! Because that’s what a hopeful guy should do.
The hopeful guy that Makoto is pretending to be.
He shuts himself in his room for a bit. And the moment he locks the door, he breaks down into tears.
He can’t do this anymore. He can’t.
Fear is constantly bubbling in his chest, and his brain is always screaming at him about what he should and shouldn’t do.
Makoto sniffles, wiping his eyes on his sleeves.
For fuck’s sake. He’s so stupid. Why did he think he could do this? He’s not good enough to be leading rehabilitation efforts for the whole world.
Bile rises in his throat as he hears footsteps in the hallway.
High heels clicking on stone floors.
Junko. Junko. Junko.
She’s coming, and she’s going to kill the rest of his friends, and then she’s going to kill him, and he failed, he’s failed, he’s messed everything up.
The footsteps go away, but it doesn’t ease Makoto’s thoughts any.
He’s too busy staring at the floor, curled into a ball, hands clutching his hair, nails digging into his scalp.
What if he made a mistake? Splitting from the Foundation... Letting the Remnants help rebuild with them.
And then he berates himself.
People change. The Remnants are good. They’re not even remnants anymore. Is he really so scared that he’s going to preemptively judge a bunch of people who’d been manipulated into evil? What an awful, horrible person he is.
There’s a knock at the door.
Makoto can’t stop shaking.
Sayaka.
If he hadn’t switched rooms with her. Maybe she’d be okay. If he’d stayed with her, helped her through the night, she’d be okay. The killing game would never have started. They’d be okay. Everyone would be alive. It’s all his fault.
Entirely.
Another knock.
And Makoto feels insane, like he’s actually back there, and maybe he can change things now. He’ll accompany Sayaka back to her room. Make sure she has no knife. And help her calm down. Yes, that’s a good idea. He’ll do that.
He stands, ready to tell Sayaka that it’ll be okay, slowly opening his door.
“Ah. Thought so.”
It’s not a popstar at all.
Makoto breathes out slowly as his panicked haze fades away, blinking tears out his eyes.
He doesn’t want Byakuya to see him like this. He’s supposed to be the rock. Supposed to be the one that Togami can lean on. Not the other way.
“Can I come in?”
Makoto steps aside, and his boyfriend squeezes his arm gently, before shutting the door behind him.
And the touch briefly sends him back to the library, Byakuya showing him Genocide Jack’s casefile.
He shakes himself, taking a moment to compose, before plastering on the brightest smile he can muster.
“Hey Kuya! Everything alright?”
“I think I should be the one asking you that question.”
“Don’t be silly. Just taking a breather from all the work. Yknow, I think we need to order more tents and-”
“Makoto. You’re the biggest hypocrite in the world.”
He laughs despite himself. Byakuya knows him completely, and there’s no squirming out of his piercing blue gaze.
“It’s fine. Really. It’s just a little wobble.”
“Like hell it is.” Togami rolls his eyes. “You’re going to let me help you or else.”
“Or else what?” Makoto rubs his eyes again, making sure all tears are clear. If he plays his cards right, maybe he can just say he’s tired.
“Or else I will burn down this entire island.”
“Sure you will.”
Byakuya pouts, before tilting Makoto’s chin down towards him. Naegi snickers internally, knowing he will never let Byakuya live down the fact that he grew taller.
“Is it one of the Remnants? I’ll sue them.”
Makoto snorts. “No. It’s fine. I’m just tired.”
“And I’m the nicest man you’ll ever meet. Now that we’ve both got our lies out the way, what’s wrong?”
“You’re so annoyingly persistent.”
“Thanks. It’s how I got rich.”
“I’m fine. Really. Just... bad memories.”
Byakuya nods slowly, gliding his fingers across Makoto’s cheek. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. No. It’s alright. You’re busy. Shouldn’t you be organising our finances right now?”
“I happen to think that caring about my boyfriend is more important than a few spreadsheets. Forget you’re the one who taught me to be a better person?”
“I’m fine. Really. Just... keep seeing Junko everywhere. And hearing her. And, uh, yeah. That’s all.”
Byakuya hums, and wraps his arms around Makoto’s waist. “I get it. I do. I think you need a break. And we can work through this. Together.”
“I’m just not sure that... I don’t think I should be the Ultimate Hope. That’s all.”
“Why?”
“Because I think... bad things. All the time. About the Remnants. And the world. And it gets really hard, and I’m so tired of trying to be positive, and I’m sick of pretending that thing’s will be okay, because what if they’re not? And I’m just living a big lie. I’m not the force of good people want me to be. And I don’t know how to change that.”
Byakuya runs his hand along Makoto’s back, gentle, soft.
“You don’t have to change that. No one can be happy all the time. You’re not lying to anyone. You ARE the Ultimate Hope. Not because you’re this big... ray of positivity. But because you keep pushing. You have bad days, and you push through that. Because you’re incredible. You acknowledge all the shit we’ve been through, and how we should be wallowing, and you say ‘Fuck that, I’m Makoto Naegi, and I’m gonna make Despair my bitch.’ And you are. You’re always trying harder, every day, and you always do the right thing. You’re just too hard on yourself. I promise you. No one will be mad at you if you say ‘Actually, I’m going to take a quick break thanks.’ Because no one deserves a rest more than you. I promise.”
Makoto rests his head against Byakuya’s absorbing his words, before smiling softly.
“Okay. Okay. You’ve convinced me. I’ll take a break. And I’ll talk about everything.”
“You better.” Byakuya kisses him softly. “And I’ll be there to comfort you. Just like you do for me.”
“You really think that it’s okay for me to feel... not good?”
“Definitely. You’re a human, idiot. Humans are dumb, and stupid, and feel terrible half the time.”
“I can’t believe you just called yourself dumb and stupid.”
“I don’t count. I’m another level of being.”
“Pfft. Okay.” Makoto laughs through a small bout of tears. “I love you. Thank you.”
“Love you too.”
Makoto stays in Byakuya’s arms for a long time. He’s safe. He’s allowed to be sad. He’s allowed to be scared.
He’s human.