Chapter Text
Really, at the start, it all seemed so…hopeful.
Sure, it had been difficult; not only the final trial, or even the investigation. For Hajime Hinata, everything after that sunny beach day seemed to all melt together into a surreal, feverish nightmare, one parents warned their children about to dissuade them from watching horror movies.
But everything, finally, seemed to fall into place; first of all, they were alive, weak and disoriented but alive. Even the “dead” weren't, well, dead, the more appropriate word would be comatose, but the first five to wake up decided on the term sleeping. Similarly, they refused to call themselves the survivors; everyone had survived, they just needed to wait for the rest to be conscious.
Naegi, Kirigiri, and Togami were more than helpful considering the circumstances (Togami less so), but they departed the island full of promises that they'll do their best, reassuring them that they'll update them about any new developments through Alter Ego. They left enough supplies to sustain them for at least six months, another ray of light peeking through the dark and stormy sky.
A major setback was that the real island didn't include the facilities of the simulation; it might've been modeled after it, but topographically at most. The only building was the one where the program trial took place, which in all rooms but the one with the pods, looked every bit as dour as a retirement home. However, it had an infirmary, a kitchen and enough rooms, so they couldn't complain too much.
And so, one by one, they started waking up; Imposter, Teruteru, Mahiru, Peko, Ibuki, Hiyoko.
Avoidance and then awkward apology between Fuyuhiko and Mahiru, Fuyuhiko diving into Peko’s arms, streams running from both his eyes and nose, Mahiru doing the same for Hiyoko; no matter the complicated feelings between the remnants, all could agree that those were touching moments.
Of course, they had to inform everyone that woke up about Chiaki as well. Hajime at first insisted to be the one to tell the rest, putting extra effort to remind everyone to remember her through the future they were allowed to have. Unfortunately for him, Sonia noticed that the days when he fulfilled this duty, he would spend the nights locked up in his room, so she decided to take over instead. He tried to formulate an adequate counterargument, but this was no use against Sonia, even with all the Ultimate Talents.
They took extra precautions while awaiting Mikan, and, even as there were some protests, decided to move her to one of the rooms, only allowing visitors. Mahiru and Ibuki were the ones who posed the most problems, arguing that Mikan didn't deserve to be handled like a prisoner (“That's no way to treat a girl, Hinata!”) and even trying to sneak her out (Mostly Ibuki). Hajime decided to take the mantle to tell them that she had fully reverted back to despair, even being able to fake her usual, docile self. It wasn't the best solution, but that was what they had to settle for.
Afterwards, it was Nekomaru and Gundham, both awoken to warm and uproarious welcomes from the rest. Sonia and Akane both didn't stop crying the entire day, Sonia not letting go of Gundham while Akane threatened Nekomaru that, if he ever tried something like that again, she would be the one to put him in the grave. There was a scary amount of conviction in her eyes, which Nekomaru generously laughed it off.
And then...
Only one remained.
But…
What happened afterwards…?
Hajime tried to remember, but…
It was like all his thoughts had been violently sucked out of his head, leaving nothing but emptiness.
Wait.
Where even…was he?!
And so Hajime Hinata did the difficult thing, and opened up his eyes.
—
The first thing to greet Hajime Hinata in his waking moments, was indistinguishable white tiles decorating, no, littering, the ceiling. The second were the unbearable fluorescent lights, beaming down at him and burning his corneas, the weapons with which the tiles punished him for insulting them, presumably. The third thing was that sterile yet lemony smell that surrounded him at all fronts, invading his nostrils and filling his brain with memories.
He couldn't deny it anymore.
He was in a hospital.
No.
Someone put him in a hospital.
Someone put him in a hospital, and made sure he couldn't remember past a certain point.
…
They drugged him.
Hajime suddenly felt like the ground was retreating and the floor collapsing onto him, along with the ugly fluorescent lights. A strong splitting pain from his head, along with all the contents of his stomach being put into a blender.
He so, so wanted to throw up.
He wanted to spill all his insides and finally disappear, but not before seeing the disgusted faces of the bastards that put him there when they found him.
…
No, he couldn't.
He had to find the others, he had to find out who did this, he had to find out…
Naegi.
Naegi, Naegi, Naegi, Naegi, NAEGI!
Why…? Was he the one that…?
But in the reports he said—
…
The first report they had gotten from him was a codified message, a month in. He informed them that one of the bigger suits of the Foundation had ambushed them, trying to put them into custody for terrorism. The only reason he was even alive was because Kirigiri and Togami were cunning, and realized that guy’s plan. Hajime was pretty sure his name was Munakata…
Of course.
The only reason he remembered things looking up was Naegi's terribly infectious positive attitude, even in text. His reassurance was sandwiched between news of the internal schism between Future Foundation due to Naegi’s “betrayal”, even possible civil war.
As always, Naegi reassured them that this was only a roadblock, and with a little luck, they would come out the other side unaffected. After all, he was the only one who knew their location.
Which means that,
If Munakata and the others got a hold of it…
…
Hajime felt a terrible pang in his heart, spreading to the rest of his body. Dark and coily tendrils, grabbing and holding on every organ of his that they could find. He felt them making their way to the muscles and bones of his limbs, making him drop to the floor and unable to move. Slowly, he felt them them wrapping around his brain, and then—
He became unable to think.
So, the man previously known as Hajime Hinata fell to the floor, slipping back into unconsciousness.
For a moment, he could hear muffled talking, a door opening from or towards his room, panicked and timid footsteps blending together.
But he couldn't bring himself to care.
For the first time in his life,
He finally knew what despair tasted like.
And, honestly,
He didn't mind at all.