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Makoto never really understood how he did what he did. It was illogical, beyond comprehension.
His sister could speak to ghosts, or so she said. Makoto could, well he could do something. It didn’t really have a name.
All he knows is that if he tries hard enough, thinks clearly about somebody, he can go somewhere. Somewhere where his physical body can’t enter, but rather his mind. Somewhere where logic disappears, and there’s only a persons deepest and darkest memories and desires, hidden away from even themselves.
He holds Servant- no, Nagito Komaeda’s hand and thinks, he focuses.
And suddenly, he’s alone. It’s dark, pitch black and full of nothingness. The world wasn’t supposed look like this, only people so full of despair had empty mindscapes.
He had seen Junko’s once. It was nothing, nothing but a small red head crying over her dead sister’s body.
Makoto shakes himself, trying to remove that memory from his head. He walks forward, calling out to Komaeda.
People who were brainwashed still have their mindscapes, Makoto has realized, they were simply hidden away, and Makoto had to find them.
The world rushes, and Makoto is suddenly is infront of a building, a mansion. Makoto slowly pushes open the door. It’s unlocked. He hears wailing, coming from a room. He goes up the stairs, where the door housing who he’s looking for is left ajar. It creaks, and the wailing stops.
“...Mommy?” A young Nagito whispers, and suddenly blood is dripping down Makoto’s forehead. His heart stops, and his eyes widen as his breath stutters and he begins choking on air. He pushes out in fear.
He wakes up to him lying on the ground, a gash running down his forehead. And Servant?
Servant is gone.
Makoto had seen terrible worlds, destroyed worlds, worlds ruined and wreaked by despair, but he doesn’t think he’s seen anything as terrifying as this.
Wind brushed through his hair, swirling and sweeping through the hazelnut brown locks and brushing past his ears. It was violent, fierce, nearly pushing Makoto right off his feet and plummeting to the ground. He only barely manages to keep himself upright, pushing against the wind that’s surrounding him, desperately trying to push him back.
Even though he’s in the middle of the eye of the storm, Kamukura does not flinch. He does not stutter. It’s almost as though the whirling breeze had no affect on him at all, moving past him and attacking Naegi instead.
But Kamukura’s hair flays, rippling around him even as he stands perfectly still. His eyes were blank, half lidded as he stared directly through Makoto, as though he wasn’t even there. His head was tilted up slightly, and his eyes swirled. Even so, he was not there, not really. His mind was elsewhere. He’s dangerous.
Makoto had never been so scared in his life.
But still, he pushes on through the storm, both literally and figuratively.
“...” it hits him from all sides, and Makoto winces at the cutting feeling against his body. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to keep himself grounded.
“Izuru! I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need you to listen to me! I need you to come back!” Makoto yells over the hale, although he can barely hear his own thoughts with how loud the wind is.
“...” Izuru stays perfectly silent, and at his words the winds pressure seems to only increase, pushing him back. Makoto grounds his heels into the dirt, and braces his right arm against the air.
“Kamukura-kun, what happened that day wasn’t your fault” and although Makoto says it softly, it still rings louder then the words he had screamed before in Izuru’s ears.
“My fault....” he mumbles, shaking his head slowly. His eyes are still glazed over, drowning out Makoto with his own words and the raging wind that pounds against him. “My fault my fault my fault my fault mine mine mine minemineminemineminemiNEMINEMINE-“
“You couldn’t have done anything!” Makoto screams out, and he knows this is a terrible idea and that he should definitely not lash out at the unstable Ultimate Talent but he needs Kamukura to see sense. He can’t help if he can’t get close.
“I killed her, didn’t I?” The way he talks, it’s too calm, even for Izuru. He isn’t himself. Makoto’s point is simply proven when a slow grin spreads itself across his face, curling onto his cheeks and Makoto decides that there should never, ever be a smile on Izuru’s face. At least, not like this.
“I KILLED HER!” And suddenly he’s laughing, cackling as he clutches his stomach. The wind that was dying down suddenly flares up again, and Makoto stumbles back.
Wincing, Makoto bites his lip. With shaky knees, he tries again.
“You, you didn’t kill her Kamukura-kun” Makoto whispers, clutching at his arms as the cold breeze licks at his ankles. Izuru stops, slowly moving up from his leaned position. He cocks his head, and Makoto doesn’t know whether to be relived or upset that he stopped laughing.
“I could’ve saved her” he smiles softly, almost like he’s remembering something good. His eyes pierce into Makoto, finally seeing him for the first time. “But I didn’t. Isn’t that worse? Isn’t that worse?”
“You can’t change the past” Makoto exclaims, trying desperately to break through the wall of storm that Izuru had created, both in the air and in his heart.
“But I can change the future!” And suddenly the grin is back, piercing at his lips as his eyes twitch. “And oh how I’ll change it”
“Hinata-kun” Makoto whispers, and Izuru flinches back.
“Don’t call me that” he says darkly, and the hailstorm seems to almost stop. There’s still a slight breeze, but the tension had suddenly become real. Makoto stumbles at the lack of weight, and the world shakes to a stop.
“Hinata was weak” Izuru hissed out, clenching at his arm as he cowered back, as though Makoto was burning him. “He was pathetic. He let her die” he growls out, eyes creasing and narrowing.
“There’s still a chance to make things right” Makoto whispers.
He holds out his hand. Izuru stares at at, face shaped in confusion and disbelief. He looks at Naegi, blood red eyes staring into hazel green ones, searching for a lie. There is none.
He reaches out, and stalls for a moment, before he grasps at Makoto’s hand, holding it like a lifeline. Finally, finally the wind fades entirely.
Makoto clutches at Izuru’s hand gingerly, and lets nature take its course.
His eyes open again, and he’s alone. Izuru is gone, the city is gone. It’s cold, it’s always cold. He’s alone in the dark.
And suddenly he’s not.
Izuru is there, holding out his hand for Makoto. He moves to take it, only for him to suddenly be pushed back. The air leaves his lungs and suddenly he’s falling, falling deeper and deeper into Izuru’s mind and Makoto doubts he could leave even if he wanted to. He can’t leave though, not when he’s this close.
He tumbles further, and his eyes widen as he stares up at Izuru. He opens his mouth to scream-
And suddenly he’s in front of Hope’s Peak.
No, not Hope’s Peak. This building is smaller, worse for wear. It looks different.
Reserve course a violent and angered voice screams in his head, and Makoto accepts it without question.
He walks into the building. It’s dull, the roof close to collapsing, and the floorboards creek under his feet. He walks further. This building was completely devoid of life, empty and filed to the brim with the stench of death.
He paces down the stairs, and they creek under his weight. He walks into a room, and Hajime Hinata sits in the corner. He’s crying, Makoto notices.
He steps closer, the floorboards creek, and Hinata flinches, trembling, staring up at him in shock and fear because nobody should be here, nobody else is supposed to be here-
“I’m sorry” is what blurts out of Hajime’s mouth, lips moving before he can stop them. “I’m so sorry.” His trembling increases, and he shoved himself away because he is a monster that does not deserve to be seen.
The air is soft, the room darkly lit, only a fading blue light shining down on the two of them. Makoto nods, and it’s slow, and quiet, but he nods.
“I know” he whispers back.
“I-I didn’t want any of this to happen-!” Hajime exclaims, trying to push out all of his pain and tears away so that he get these words out before he disappears entirely. “I just-I just-“
“I just wanted a talent” Hajime sobs.
“Why me...? I didn’t, I didn’t do anything wrong! I don’t deserve this, why why why why”
And then his hair is long, and his eyes are a crimson red, and Makoto is reaching down to hug him, to calm him down.
“I know” he whispers, and Hajime truly believes that he understands.
“I remember it all.” Hajime hisses, his voice shaky. “Everything. Everything that I did, all the terrible terrible things”
Makoto whispers soothing words into his ear and strokes his back, and Hajime’s breathing intended and it all feels too tight. His eyes scrunch up in pain and agony.
“I’m doing it again, aren’t I?” He sobs, clenching tighter onto Makoto and shoving himself into his nape. “I’m doing it again!” He wails.
“Doing what? Hinata-kin doing what?” Makoto asks urgently, and Hajime is able to ground himself on Makoto’s voice.
“I’m hurting the people I care about...” Hajime sobs quietly. “I’m hurting people like I hurt her”
Makoto bites his lip, clenching on his cheek and casting his eyes away. Hajime clenches tighter as if he’s scared that if he lets go, Makoto will be gone.
“Why-why do I destroy everything I touch? Why am I such a monster?”
“You’re not a monster Hinata-kun” Makoto argues back. “You can still make things right.”
“How?” Hajime demands because to him, redemption is impossible. Not for a monster like him.
“Just let me help” Makoto whispers.
Hajime trembles, eyes clenching shit because he’s scared, before slowly nodding. Makoto moves, staying in their hug as he grasps Hajime’s hand in his own. They fold together, fitting into their respective slots perfectly. Makoto sighs in relief, and lets nature take its course.
He opens his eyes, and he’s back. He’s back and he’s still tightly holding onto Izuru- no, Hajime’s hand. His eyes are still clenched shut, as though he’s scared of what he’ll see when he opens them. He can’t take it back, can’t disappear into the darkness once he takes this final step.
Only the light. Only Makoto.
He opens his eyes, and Makoto’s smiling face is what awaits him.
It’s beautiful, Hajime thinks.
He shivering and shaking but he’s alive and he’s okay as he’s here with Makoto.
“You’re okay now” Makoto whispers, and Hajime believes him.
And then Makoto hugs him, and it feels right and it feels safe.
He’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay