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Contrary to supposedly popular belief, Hajime Hinata was not stupid. He believed himself to be rather logical and observant, good traits to have when put through extensive investigations such as the ones most of the recent Hope’s Peak students had to go through.
That being said, he noticed the way Makoto Naegi looked at him. Clearly Naegi had no idea Hajime could see him doing so, but the other was painfully obvious, in all honesty. Even Saionji had pointed it out to him, in that obnoxiously rude way she tended to do most things.
“Hey, Hinata!” she shouted, entirely too loud for how close she was to the other.
Hajime grimaced. “Yes, Saionji?”
“That egg-kid from class 78 keeps staring at you, and by extension, us . It’s like. SUUUUPER creepy. Think you can get him to knock it off?”
Hajime deflated. “You can see it, too?”
It wasn’t that it bothered Hajime too terribly. Sure, it was a bit unnerving at first, but really he just felt bad that other people knew it was happening. It had to be embarrassing for Naegi, though, and that made Hajime feel bad.
What also made Hajime feel bad was the sadness that radiated from every gaze Naegi gave him.
Eventually, Gundham gave Hajime the idea to actually talk to Naegi about the staring. Really, he should’ve thought of the idea a lot sooner, but, well…
Hajime may be smart, but nobody ever claimed him to be great in social situations.
“Naegi?” Hajime finally asked the other after lunch one day. “Could we maybe talk for a moment?”
Seemingly, this pulled Naegi out of their stupor, as the other flinched, blinking rapidly and looking around, pointing to himself as if checking Hajime really wanted to talk to them. At Hajime’s confirmation, Naegi hesitantly nodded, standing up to allow Hajime to lead the way.
The two of them sat on a bench encircling a fountain. For a great deal of time there was silence.
“Naegi,” Hajime began, “you spend an awful lot of time staring at me.”
The other bunched his shoulders up, staring at their lap. They made no vocal response for a long while.
“Was it that obvious?”
Hajime laughed softly. “You aren’t the most discreet, Naegi.”
Naegi laughed as well, though his was watery and laced with restrained tears. “Um. Makoto. Call me Makoto, please, Hinata. Naegi feels…too formal coming from you.”
“If…that’s what you so wish, Makoto,” Hajime agreed, trying out the name. It sounded odd to his ears, but familiar on his tongue, as though it had been spoken hundreds of times before.
There was another long stretch of silence.
“Makoto, did I do something wrong?”
The other laughed, surprised. They even seemed a bit scandalized, as if Hajime was crazy for assuming he could ever do wrong. “Of course not! Whatever gave you that idea?”
“You look so sad, when you stare at me,” Hajime admitted. “I just wondered if I had done something to hurt you in the past, and if that was why you stare so sadly.”
Makoto spent a long while sitting silently, allowing the breeze and bubbling water to fill the void in conversation.
“You look so much like him, you know. Sound like him, too,” Makoto said finally, voice barely a whisper. “Though, all things considered, it makes sense. You shared that body, afterall. What was his is now yours, I suppose.”
“His? Sharing a body? You…” Hajime leaned in to whisper, checking that they were alone. “You knew of Kamukura? ”
Makoto tched, though it was more of a teasing tone than an annoyed one. “’’Knew of,’’ he asks. Hinata, Izuru and I were…we were close, you know.”
Suddenly, Hajime felt entirely out of his depth. “You don’t mean…”
“I loved Izu, you know. With my whole entire heart. It might sound stupid or cliche, but it’s true. I still do.”
These were not things common to hear about Kamukura. “And did he…what was he like?”
“Izu was nice. To me, at least. He cared, and he gave me gifts and respect. He only ever asked for my attention in return; for me to treat him not as a tool, but as a friend. And I always did my best to. I hope I was as good to him as he was to me.”
“I’m sure you were,” Hajime comforted weakly.
“Hinata, I’m sorry for staring at you. I’m also sorry that you felt you couldn’t confront me about it. You’re just one of the last remnants of Izuru that I have left, and…” They trailed off, wiping at their eyes. “It’s hard, letting go of someone you love.”
Hajime nodded, mind filling with soft pink hair and the distant scent of strawberries and potato chips. Perhaps the two of them could understand one another better than most.
“I…I do get that, actually,” Hajime admitted. Makoto did not respond, allowing the other to continue speaking. “Her name was Chiaki Nanami. She was the Ultimate Gamer . She slept a lot, and always seemed so off in her own world. She…really meant a lot to me.”
Makoto hummed, nodding. “I saw her occasionally. She seemed like quite a character. I’m glad the two of you were able to get a little happiness.” his fist clenched the fabric of his pants. “I’m sorry we couldn’t do more to save her.”
“We’re about equal there,” Hajime noted, getting a surprised bark of laughter out of Makoto. “Two lost lovers and the ones they left behind,” he clarified.
Makoto shifted closer. “I suppose you’re right about that one, Hinata.”
“Call me Hajime.”