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It is a peculiar thing for sure, the thin band barely 7 centimetres in diameter, the grey rhinestones decorating it, the way it hits the light juuust right, and, of course, the little metal hinge indicating it's facing front.
“Huh…” Hinata only uttered, her eyes squinting with suspicion as she took in its shape, like she's interrogating a hardened criminal.
“Hm?” The new owner of the item of scrutiny piped up. “Ummm…Is something the matter? Haha…” Her awkward smile betrayed her confusion.
“Uhh..” Hinata snapped her head back, as if suddenly realising the presence of something other than the collar.
“N-no, it's- it's all good, I just…” Her eyes scrambled for a reprieve, a view that wasn't the strange pendant or her girlfriend's worried face. Shamefully, they settle on the floor. “Well, I guess I didn't know you were into that kinda, um, stuff .”
It takes only a millisecond after the sentence has departed from her lips for her higher cognitive functions to kick into gear and realise how wrong the thing she just said was.
“Uhh, I meant that, like, you've never bought a- something like this before!” She scrambles defensively.
But it was already too late…
As she finally has the courage to face Komaeda, her face has unfurled into an expression of pure mirth , her non-prosthetic hand, the one not holding the collar, had then moved to cover her mouth, the one action of good will to prevent Hinata's further humiliation. Her eyes were shimmering with ready-to-spill tears, her cheeks a flaming red that would've looked troublesome under any other circumstances.
“Whatever. It's not my fault you think this is so- ugh!”
“ Pfffffftttt, ahahahaaa- no, no, it's just—” Komaeda takes a deep breath, trying to recuperate from her wheezing fit, coughing a little in the process. Hinata's scornful look is now nowhere to be seen, replaced instead with one of worry, as she quickly makes her way toward Komaeda.
“H-Hey, Komaeda! I'm sorry… A-Are you okay? Need anything?”
“Hahhhh…” Komaeda sighs “Don't worry about me, I'm fine. It's just that…” Her stare flickers toward Hinata mischievously, the smile curling on her lips once more.
“H-Hah? What is it? If you don't feel well…”
“Well…” Komaeda paused with gravity. “It's just that… I wouldn't be against the idea of using it like that … Haha!”
“AUUGHHHHHH!” The look of worry disappeared in an instant, as Hinata's frustration boiled over. “Whatever! You- I really thought something had happened! Ugh!” Komaeda cannot look any more delighted at Hinata's outburst. “Go away! And take that stupid collar with you! My fault that I cared…” she said, as she turned her back and slowly walked away.
“H-Hey, it was just a joke, I didn't mean to bother you so much…” Komaeda’s glee slowly left her, as she realised the severity of Hinata's anger. “And the reason why I bought it is rather innocuous. I always had a fondness for such, um, ‘punk’ things, and this collar happened to be on sale today, not that I couldn't have bought it if it was more expensive, but it really seemed like it was meant to be, don't you think? Haha…”
Hmmm, Hinata thought. Didn't she mention wearing something like that in Towa city or something? I guess she’s always had a fondness for that extreme fashion stuff, huh…
Hinata seemed to find a reluctance in her step, and stopped before she could walk further. She held onto that moment of hesitation, standing in the middle of the living room yet not moving an inch.
“Umm, Hinata-san…?” Komaeda called out with uncertainty, as she debated following her.
“How many times have I told you not to call me that?” Hinata finally turned around, her arms crossed over her chest, presumably for emphasis. Instead, it made her look even more like a scolded child, the worst thing being that she was well aware of that fact. “Just ‘Hinata’ is fine, maybe add ‘-chan’ or something if you're so intended in staying polite. Hell, I'll even take back the ‘-kun’...”
“Oh, um…” Komaeda only managed to say, taken aback by this change in topic “Well, if you want, I could—”
“Ugh!” Hinata groaned. In a far too recognisable motion, she put her arms over her head, covering her eyes. She stayed in that position for a few more excruciating seconds, as she took refuge in the darkness, Komaeda unsure of what to do. Finally she straightened up, and, with her expression not any less tired, said:
“...I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I acted so stupid over a joke, a-and that I…” Her voice had turned into a hushed whisper, “That I acted like… that when you just wanted to show me a cool thing you bought…” Hinata admitted shamefully as she turned to face the floor.
The room might've as well been soundproofed with how quiet it got. The only thing filling the silence was each other's breathing, each moment charged with anticipation. Hinata noticed her heightened heartbeat, and cursed herself and Hope's Peak and all its stupid scientists for it. At last, Komaeda cut the thick cake that the tension had become:
“I-I could still show you the collar, if you want…But I think you need to come a bit closer to actually see it…”
After another moment that felt like eternity, Hinata separated her feet from the ground and started walking toward Komaeda's direction, the floor creaking with malice. When she stopped, she was right in front of Komaeda, their gazes finally aligned.
“H-Hey…” She tried to speak up, but it sounded hoarse and rough, like her throat was a dirt road full of pebbles, each of them scratching a different part of her diaphragm. The fact that she managed to say anything at all was nothing short of a miracle.
“Hmmm?”
“H-Hold my hand…Komaeda…” Saying that, Hinata extended her left hand, to face Komaeda's empty right.
“...Oh! O-Of course…” Komaeda obliged, pleasantly surprised, as she joined hands with Hinata. Both their hands were about the same size, which made it easier to slide in each other's grasp; Komaeda had longer fingers and Hinata a wider palm by around half a centimetre, which wasn't that big a difference, but big enough for both of them to have noticed and joked about plenty of times already. There were additional observations, that while Komaeda's fingertips could reach temperatures lower than Siberia (on both hands!), Hinata's had more humidity than Jabberwock, which she never really appreciated.
They stayed with each other in silence yet again, which had turned into a comforting blanket, as their quiet breathing communicated things words never could. Hinata couldn't help but pick up that their heartbeats were almost in sync, and for once she was glad to have that ability ; If only it were possible to be fully in sync , she mused selfishly.
“Sooo, umm…can I show it to you then?” Komaeda timidly asked, ending the brief moment of comfort and bringing the collar back to the forefront.
“Ehh, sure…” Was the only thing Hinata could think to say in response.
As Komaeda finally wore the darn collar, Hinata found herself staring holes in it again — not just because of everything that transpired because of it.
The truth was, that every time Hinata looked at it, she felt…weird. Upset? It was a very distinct sensation; she would look at the collar, then she could look only at the collar and dizziness would overcome her, like her head had been dumped underwater and her ears were filled to the brim with salt. And then her stomach would tighten, as if she had been constricted by a boa at only that specific place, and the tips of her fingers would run chilly, and immediately after that—
“Hinata-s—Hinata? Are you okay?”
Suddenly, she found herself back in reality, accompanied by the concerned voice of her girlfriend. Great, the last thing she wanted to do was worry her more.
“Umm, yeah, I was just- distracted, that's all.” As she took in her surroundings again, it became obvious that she had not moved at all, and she had been directly looking at the collar the entire time…The thing was, her memory of actually looking at it was much sparser than she'd thought, based on Komaeda's concerned reaction. It was like her own brain tried its best to ignore it.
That exact moment of realisation in which she had her full attention to the collar, she felt those weird hunches again, her head being the first to cave in as fatigue washed over her like a wave turning into a tsunami and drowning all the surfers along the way. Her own eyes rejected the collar like a failed organ transplant.
“Hinata?!”
“Aughhh…” Was the only thing Hinata mustered to verbalise, using all her strength to not collapse. She could do nothing but watch as the whole room turned sideways, losing what little stability she had managed to secure.
“If you need to lie down…”
“Aumhh fainnnn…” She slurred, trying to navigate the suddenly diagonal room. She was sure she would soon unleash the remainder of her breakfast on the floor. “Just need to sit downnn, ughhh—”
Then, darkness.
Hinata woke up on the sofa a few hours later, her head not in any less disarray, as a worried Komaeda looked on at her side.
Thankfully, she wasn't wearing the collar.
—
A good week had passed after the “incident”, as Hinata internally classified it, and it was like it had never even happened. The doctor told them it might've been stress induced, so she was advised to take an aspirin, lay back and relax for a bit. The next day Komaeda took her to a fancy restaurant, and the day after that to the aquarium — a silent apology that Hinata couldn't refute unless she wanted to make her more worried. There was no sign of the collar still.
Slowly, the recollection of the incident became more and more abstracted, like a rock slowly eroded by the elements.
Hinata was glad to leave it at that.
Except.
A few days after the fact, Hinata was doing the laundry, far from an unusual sight. Unloading the wash-bin, putting (more like throwing) the clothes in the washing machine, the rhythm of the mundane, repetition.
Her Ultimate abilities were whispering in her ear, like devils on her shoulders ; they could pick up each stains’ origins, calculate how much time had passed since a specific garment had been worn, which materials had been used and in what percentages, the long process until they reached the shelves and then Hinata's hands.
Oh, how much she wanted to scream!
As she battled those thoughts, her hands continued on, undisturbed. Pulling the laundry out the bin, throwing it in the washing machine, repeat.
Her body was like a car, but she wasn't the driver; she was sitting in the passenger seat and, sure , if she put some effort she could get her hands on the driving wheel, but she was staring, fixated on the scenery the car was passing by.
Pulling the laundry out the bin, throwing it in the washing machine, repeat.
…
How boring…
…
What?!
As she reached in to grab more clothes, she realised the gravity of what she just said or, well, thought. Before she knew it, she found herself a quarter of a foot away from the bin, on the floor.
Looking up at the ceiling for some reprieve, she found none; on the contrary, she was sure it was closer than usual, so close it might as well just fall on top of her.
…No, actually it was farther than usual. Yes, farther. Multiple feet farther. And the color was different, whiter and…there were tiles? No, the bathroom had only tiles on the floor , she reprimanded herself. But then why…
The light was different too. Brighter. Insufferable. Even covering her eyes didn't work. Did it short-circuit or something?
She tried to take a peek, just to be faced with—
Fluorescents.
The bathroom didn't have fluorescents. No place in the house had, and even in places outside the house…
There was only one location that had such bright fluorescents.
No.
Nononononononononononono—
No!
She wasn't, she couldn't be—!
“Hinata?”
A husky voice, free of burden yet full of concern broke Hinata free of her spell.
“I heard a noise and was worried you might have fallen down again— Ah!” Having noticed that Hinata had indeed fallen down, she wasted no time to come to the rescue.
“You don't have to—ugh! R-Really I'm fine, I was just sitting down…” Hinata protested, but it fell on deaf ears.
“I understand your reluctance, being handled by me and all, but if anything, last time taught us that you never know when this might become useful, heh…”
“Hey! It was just one time…” Hinata said defeated. “A-Anyway, I'm doing the laundry now, so you don't have to worry too much, okay? I'll be done in a few minutes anyway…”
“Hahaha! Of course. But if you need anything…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know!” She said as she unceremoniously ushered her girlfriend out of the room.
But as she turned back to her task, she found out that she had already put all the clothes away in the washing machine.
She could have sworn she was right in the middle of the bin last she remembered…
—
The one incident became two incidents, and then three, four, five—
It could start from something as innocuous as fabric sticking to her skin or settling on the bed a little too roughly, and that would have been enough to send her reeling, either panting on the floor or frozen for hours at a time, not even realising how much time had passed.
She couldn't ignore it anymore. She had to realise what was happening and fix it, at least before Komaeda found her in such a state.
But really, what could have caused this?
This had never happened before, or to such a degree. This must have meant whatever caused it, it must've been pretty recent.
Come on!
Something that happened recently, that started this whole chain of emotional reactions, the first instance she felt this specific way…
…
Right. The damn collar.
The thing that started this whole mess.
Even when it was only a thought, she was still overcome with inklings of nausea and numbness, and then last week's fiasco would play in high definition at the back of her mind, adding feelings of guilt and embarrassment on top of it, like the cherries to the shit cake that was her life.
What were those feelings? And why was a piece of jewellery enough to bring it to the surface in such a forceful way?
She knew that she shouldn't investigate further. If she wanted what was good for her, she would shove that line of thought as further back in her head as she could, crossing her fingers that she would eventually forget it.
But she had to know why.
She knew that it would be as relieving as scratching open a scabbed wound, if not make her faint again or actually throw up.
Or worse, upset Komaeda.
But she knew that the question would slowly eat her alive, so much that the only thing she could think of would be that damn piece of jewellery and all those horrible…memories? What were those things anyway?
If her cowardice was what prevented her from finding the answer, she would never forgive herself afterwards.
Wasn't the future she fought so hard to protect all those years ago one in which she could make her own choices?
So, she made her decision.
She would get to the bottom of this, whatever it would take.
So, with a decisive stride, she headed in search of the collar.
—
Needless to say, the search had gone exactly as expected; Not a sign of the damn thing.
Hinata started predictably, with Komaeda's night stand. Then she moved on to the drawers she knew her girlfriend was storing jewellery, then the wardrobe itself, aimlessly throwing clothes around, and finally, in a last desperate bid of clarity, the bathroom. Nothing.
She couldn't say she didn't try, but throwing in the towel at that point wouldn't relieve her of the ache tugging at her gut or those visions , the reason she started this stupid treasure hunt in the first place.
Nonetheless defeated, she headed back to the bedroom so she could at least collect her thoughts and figure out if there was anything else she could do, other than make up a paper thin excuse to explain to Komaeda why their bedroom was such a mess.
At last sitting down and relieving her feet of any further strain, she covered her eyes with her hands, shielding them from the burning artificial lights. I should've probably turned them off beforehand , she thought.
Except, wait! She wasn't sitting still…
Hinata felt the mattress slide from underneath her, propelling her forward. If she had to assign a cause to it, it would have been that she had plopped herself at the very edge of the bed, and, if she wanted one more uncomfortable truth for the day, she was much taller and heavier than it could handle at that angle.
Thankfully, her Ultimate Reaction Time guaranteed that she wouldn't fall face first on the floor, instead executing a magnificent twirl that landed her facing directly at the bed's dark and dusty underside.
Damn, I really need to clean under there , she thought, the piles of dust bunnies mocking her.
Surveying the darkness, questioning if she wanted to ever get up again, she spotted— something …
It was difficult to see, but once noticing it, the difference to rest of the environment was obvious; It reflected light, as few of it as there was, and it was a small, thin shape, jumping out at an angle—
No way…! Hinata barely restrained herself from jumping from joy and screaming at the top of her lungs. A part of her thought she should lower her expectations but there was no way, it had to be it!
Ignoring the hideous towers of dust, she reached out and yes, yes!
From under the bed, she pulled out the collar. How did it manage to get under there? She didn't know and she couldn't care less.
But she finally did it.
She found the collar!
She found the collar.
The…collar…
The few remaining feelings of elation left her when she realised that she was, in fact, holding the collar and that she was seized again by nausea, the buzzing in her ears drowning out all other sounds.
Okay, now what?
At the mercy of her reflexes, she jutted out her arm as far away from herself as she could, just shy of throwing out the collar to the other side of the room, if not out the window. Obviously, the feeling of unease did not fade just because the item was farther away.
…Yeah, that was pretty stupid.
But if there was a significant improvement when compared to last time, it is that the feeling did not escalate. She felt dizzy and light headed, that vague feeling in her stomach persisted, but nothing more. Hinata thought that not wanting to faint was a pretty low bar to clear, but it was still progress.
Despite the cowardly part of her, she decided to focus on the collar more in depth. Thinking back, even if the collar was what brought on such negative sensations, she had never paid close enough attention to them specifically. She would get drawn into one of those… states and then she'd snap out of them at once, panicked.
Which meant that a good start to countering them would be to relax.
She decided to close her eyes and take a deep breath, slowly. The air filled her lungs and emptied her mind as she felt the more inconvenient thoughts exit it.
On the count of three…
One…
Two…
Three!
And she opened her eyes once more, ready to face the object of her torment.
Immediately, she noticed the nausea and constricting feeling in her stomach return.
That was…a bad idea…
But she couldn't turn away now!
The uneasy stimulation settled on her like an 80 pound dog, crushing her gut, stomach and spleen in the process. The strange thing was though… It didn't get any more uncomfortable than that, no further escalations or setbacks in sight.
Was exposure therapy really working? She wondered. Perhaps that was an opportunity to further examine her reactions.
She focused on that peculiar feeling in her abdomen, the way she felt constricted, held in place by industrial grade tape, yet nothing was actually holding her or preventing her from moving. At the same time, she was being pin pricked by freezing needles, imagining them going through her skin, the cold irritation spreading to the rest of her limbs—
Wait a minute… She thought.
I… I know that feeling—!
—
It must've been around seven in the morning. The chaotic tapping of the downpour could be heard from inside the station, but there were additional indications of the horrible weather; otherwise stone-faced businessmen wearing frumpy raincoats, schoolgirls putting away their umbrellas while giggling and a lone student wearing a private school uniform dripping wet, a trail of water following h(er) all the way from the entrance.
(S)he had just awkwardly removed the soaked jacket from h(er) head, a makeshift protection from the storm, that was too little, too late. It appeared to have been a trait it shared with its owner; (s)he had just missed the train that would've brought her in front of Hope's Peak’s gates just before the bell rang.
She watched the last few passenger cars fly past h(er) as h(er) mind dug itself into a hole.
I will be late.
I won't be able to make it before homeroom starts and even if i do, if i just walk in, the teacher will yell at me and the others will be laughing behind my back for sure!
I can't just wait outside in the rain the whole time, but if I go inside I will just humiliate myself! What if I miss the lecture completely?
There's no one I can ask to give me the notes! Ughhhh!
At that moment (s)he felt the same pressure at h(er) stomach and head, ever so slightly losing h(er) balance. Facing the thin yellow line separating h(er) from the tracks, (s)he gazed at the mechanical abyss below.
If I tilt myself this way, I will certainly fall in the tracks…
A thunder boomed as (s)he seemed to find her clarity:
But then I won't manage to go to class at all!
—
Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh !
A bone-chilling scream echoed throughout the room, waking Hinata up from her stupor.
The realisation struck her; there was nobody else in the house and, even if Komaeda was there, her scream wouldn't have sounded like that.
Which meant that—
Hinata was startled by her own voice, her own scream .
She found herself in the bedroom again, looking at the grey, fuzzy carpet. She had no memory of shifting her gaze to face it, the last concrete thing she remembered staring at was—
The collar.
Just before, she was holding it in her hands, examining it, trying to find the answer to her discomfort. However, as she raised them up, she found them relieved of such duty.
Her pupils darted around the room violently enough to be ejected from her eyeballs, searching aimlessly for the collar. She feared for the worst, that within her daydream she did indeed throw it out the window, probably hitting a couple of birds on the way, knowing her luck.
Instead, she found it cushioned in between the carpet and drawer— just below the window .
Even the shortest burst of relief couldn't settle before being replaced by panic, but at least the collar was still within reach, and not floating in sewage.
Approaching it, she was seized by discomfort once more, her vision blurring, as the scene from her adolescence was still fresh in her mind. The thing was, she had finally a name for that feeling:
Dread.
Her only companion in sleepless nights while she studied for a test due the next day, keeping up with the assignments in cram school, all the times she missed the train, overslept, and had to talk to her parents. The anxiety, the strain in her stomach, the way she wanted to block everything out— it was all there.
But so was the urge to scratch that itch, to trigger that reaction and find out what caused it. To discover and overcome it. The fact that she figured out what name to call it and classify it brought on another wave of relief as well as curiosity. She wanted to find out more.
It wasn't just dread.
It was adrenaline.
It was thrill .
Hinata was almost certain she could tour the world in eighty days, no, less than eighty days. Maybe ten, if she really put her mind to it.
She could feel the blood pumping in her veins, like all her senses had heightened; She was sure she could pick out each speck of dust individually, track down a crumb of food by smell alone, hear the barking of dogs from multiple blocks away. If she opened up the window and gazed up at the sky, she would somehow know it was bluer than all the other times she had looked at it.
But if she didn't want that opportunity to escape her grasp, she needed to find a way to wrangle her senses from the collar's control. As fruitful as her last attempt to get answers from it proved to be, she still blanked out, ending up only one open window away from the whole endeavor ending in catastrophe.
But she managed to go this far already. Focusing a bit harder shouldn't be that difficult, right?
She tentatively raised her hand, reaching the collar. Once having touched it, its sleek metallic surface, colder to the touch than expected, sent chills travelling from her hands to her brain to her spine. She tried her best to get ahold of herself, but her whole body vibrated in response. Damn it….
She needed to get through this. She had to get through this.
Come on…! I got this! She willed internal words of encouragement to ring inside her skull, though they carried a much stronger resemblance to orders from a drill sergeant. The spike in her heart rate was abrupt and unignorable.
She could withstand holding the collar close to herself by now, even touching skin with it, which meant it wasn't enough. She had to go further. She had to go all the way.
She held up the collar again, this time determined; This time, aiming for her neck.
Come on, come on…!
The closer it got, the more ragged Hinata's breathing became, more and more sweat collecting on her forehead and palms; the frosty, pin prickly feeling had spread to every inch of her body. It was too late to turn back.
Clip!
Hinata hissed in a breath as the cold metal made contact with her neck, her stomach tying itself further in knots. The click of the collar closing didn't relieve her any further; on the contrary, her diaphragm was being constrained, herself unsure if she could even breathe.
Don't panic, don't freak out!
She managed to see it through once before, so she could do it again. She was going to do it again. Her fingers were the only thing keeping the collar from completely choking her, all the while fighting the urge to collapse.
Deep down, she knew this would only end badly. But she just had to see it through.
Almost like—
—
“Please, take a seat.”
The smiling man gestured to the chair opposite the wide, carved mahogany table he and about five other men were sitting in. Hinata, having failed to see them at first, resisted the urge to jump once (s)he did; The steering committee room was located pretty deep inside the main building, its blinds rarely being opened. That day was no different, resulting in half the room cloaked in shadow, illuminated only by a spare candelabra on the table.
Hinata sat, no— sunk in the chair, its pillow slowly reeling h(er) in; h(er) legs flailed awkwardly before finally settling in, yet still unable to touch the floor. (S)he hoped the room was dark enough to hide h(er) feverish complexion.
“Hinata Hajime,” The smiling man spoke yet again; Hinata was now close enough to truly comprehend the grotesqueness of his smile. (S)he was certain it stretched to his ears; but, strangely, (s)he wasn't sure if it reached his eyes. Then again, the room was so dark, (s)he couldn't discern any features that were higher than his nose.
“Y-Yes?” (S)he barely managed to utter.
“We are truly impressed by you.”
“Huh?!”
(S)he never thought (s)he would be able to hear those words.
“The dedication you have shown for this endeavor, especially for a student at your age… It is truly one of a kind!” The man stretched out his arms with fervor. “It is clear that you desire this opportunity more than some people have desired anything else.”
“Th-Thanks!” Even if it was completely dark, (s)he couldn't help but lower h(er) gaze to h(er) feet, which were embarrassingly twiddling, slightly squeaking with every move. (S)he felt her face heat up again and swiftly corrected them, straightening h(er) posture as best as (s)he could.
“Which is precisely why…We think you deserve it as well.” The man reached down his side of the table, the sound of a drawer opening filling the silence.
Hinata’s heart was ready to jump out of h(er) chest, (s)he wasn't sure whether to scream joyously or bow so deeply h(er) head would be touching the floor. The sound of ruffling paper stopped this brief celebration, as the man placed a sheet in front of h(er).
“The last thing that is needed is your parents' signatures right here.” He pointed at the very bottom of the page.
“My parents…?” (S)he tried to recall every time in the past few months (s)he had actually seen either of h(er) parents, much less both of them at the same time. “I-I’m not sure I…” (s)he started to falter, h(er) enthusiasm steadily leaking out of h(er).
“We understand if there are any difficulties regarding this part.” The man sighed sympathetically. “The whole selection process itself was created to be daunting and particular. Explaining it to your family will be complicated, especially if both are in the workforce.” Hinata bowed h(er) head shamefully, not knowing if any explanation would suffice for them to hear it.
“The limit is one month. We hope that it is enough to convince your parents of the importance of the document. If any further questions persist, they are free to contact us for clarification.” Hinata still couldn't utter a word. (S)he felt like h(er) shoulders were burdened with the weight of the world.
“We are free to discuss a time extension, if that is needed.” The smiling man resumed. “But that is only because your potential has proven to be too valuable to merely discard due to external circumstances.” Hinata raised h(er) head at that, in mild surprise. “That is why we implore you to put in a similar amount of effort with your parents.”
Hinata felt blush spread on h(er) face yet again. “Y-Yes! Thank you! I-I will not disappoint you, um, sir!”
The man let a soft chuckle escape his lips. “Haha, that's what I like to see! And they say the younger generations don't have work ethic.” He stood up and patted Hinata's shoulder.
The moment (s)he left the room, (s)he looked down at the sheet of paper to confirm; yes, it was there, right at h(er) fingertips.
(S)he questioned pinching h(er)self just so (s)he could make sure (s)he wasn't dreaming.
(S)he felt just like a peacock flaunting its feathers, utterly sure of its superiority, and wanted everyone else to be aware of it too.
(S)he couldn't wait but wave goodbye to how h(er) life was before, full of hardships and shame, because (s)he wouldn't ever return to it.
There it was.
The key to a better life, one where (s)he'd finally get the recognition (s)he deserved.
The key to h(er) future .
—
Hinata almost ripped the collar in half with how harshly she took it off. She desperately needed to breathe.
She erratically looked up, down, right, left, she needed to make sure that she was still in her apartment, not back at that dark and creepy office. Anything but back there.
She groaned. She couldn't even tell what she was feeling, just that it was negative.
But it had worked.
That thing… She didn't know how it did it, nor did she want to know. What she did know was that this damn collar had managed to unearth these memories, like turning over a tree trunk just to find rot underneath, spreading to the entirety of the tree.
If the project didn't succeed in erasing her memories, it must've blocked them. The Neo World Program managed to restore some of them, but Hinata kept noticing the gaps after the fact. There were fleeting moments that she thought the memory loss was a blessing in disguise, but more often than not, it was unnerving. How much of her life had been lost? She deserved to know that much, at the very least.
She glanced back at the collar, still located in her hand. Her stomach tightening, her palms and forehead starting to sweat. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the floor length mirror, sitting next to dresser;
She looked like hell. Deep, dark eyebags cradling her eyes, hair tangled like it hadn't been brushed in years. She started noticing new stains on her shirt, each somehow a different color.
In front of her, she saw a crossroad unfurling;
In one path, she put the collar away back where she found it and resumed her life of ignorance. However, her mind would think of this day, of the collar and the knowledge it held, every chance it would have, her stomach twisting in response. She would never be able to forget.
In the other path, she would put on the collar again, and suffer the consequences for it, whether those would be merely bad memories or something even worse.
She looked in the mirror yet again; She saw her decrepit state staring back at her, her crimson eye clashing with her green one, and she saw the way the collar reflected all the light that was pouring out the window.
She swallowed, deeply and wetly.
She closed her eyes.
She felt the collar wrap around her neck.
—
Darkness.
The first thing you remember is darkness .
It embraces you, it envelops you—
It strangles you.
Right. Around. Your. Neck .
Metal.
Cold and unfeeling.
Serving its use.
Perhaps you have some things in common with your captor.
…
Nonsense.
It is unthinking material, and you are not… that.
Are you?
Your comedic impulses have certainly taken control.
It might be a reaction to your situation, trying to ‘lighten the mood’ as they say, take your mind off it.
Of course, it's not working.
In fact, it's quite annoying.
There is nothing more tedious than an unfunny joke.
To you, all jokes have started to become unfunny. Comedy relies on the subversion of expectations, and you have already calculated all possible variables. But you have to, in order to be able to tell as many jokes as possible.
In a way, to become the Ultimate Comedian, you must first become the Ultimate Killjoy.
How else will you prevent yourself from laughing at your own jokes?
…
…
Normally, such a line would arouse uproarious laughter. Though, since you do not find it funny, the only sound in the room is the buzzing of an electric fan.
Maybe if laughter had erupted anyways, a new and exciting situation would have unfolded, one that you had not fully calculated beforehand.
But you're a fast learner. You would have gotten bored before the person had stopped laughing.
This comedy tangent has quickly grown stale, much like or unlike your own jokes, depending on whether you want to take the self deprecation route. You turn your attention back at the constricting metal.
The metal is not just around your neck, but your limbs too; You must be lying on a flat, semi-soft surface, most likely a bed. With some effort, you could certainly manage to escape your chains, maybe even whatever facility you are kept in.
You have no desire to do that. A cat and mouse game with an uncertain amount of people does not sound appealing enough to act upon. If they managed to capture you once, they could probably achieve it a second time; the idea of attempting to escape just to end up in the same place you were before further repels you from such an idea.
Suddenly, lights!
The fluorescent lights beam down upon you violently, like a tailor-made execution. Painful. Inconvenient. You are quickly reconsidering the escape plan.
People in white lab coats crowd around you; almost all of them fit your expectation of a scientist or doctor, so you don't concern yourself further. The only standout among them is standing just behind the head-doctor, much younger than everyone else, looking almost as bored as you are.
The most interesting thing about the head-doctor is that he is built like a wall; In all other matters he seems as unimportant as expected. He chuckles, and he leers down at you with a content smile. “Good morning! We all hope you had a good rest.”
The youngest doctor scoffs. “We understand if you feel… constrained .” The head-doctor resumes. “It was merely a preventive measure. Matsuda, if you will?” He snaps his fingers.
The youngest doctor approaches and undoes the chains. Disgust is the only thing evident on his face.
“Ahhhh, much better now, isn't it?” He seems to be talking to you now; you answer dishonestly.
“Hahaha.” He laughs as if you used your Ultimate Comedian abilities. “Do not worry, we won't have to resort to such barbarous methods anymore. From now on, you're free to roam around this room as much as you please.”
You stare blankly at him. It's clear why he became a doctor and not a salesman.
“Well…” He looks around at all the other doctors, awaiting for any further input. “Ah, we haven't even told you the most exciting part!”
Nothing in this situation has been exciting. You are still debating a possible escape plan.
“Starting today, you will also have a name .”
As you think back to it, you can't recall a name for yourself. It is certainly strange. Judging by your anatomical knowledge and cognitive abilities, you're well past the age where that is expected.
You give a slight nod, not that it would have changed the doctor's intentions.
“From this day, you will be known as—”
“ Kamukura Izuru .”
—
Hinata did not know what time it was when she woke up. She didn't even remember how she got on the bed. Opening up her eyes, she noticed that the lights were on, the room was tidied up and the collar was nowhere to be found.
Which could only mean that—
Shit!
Hinata jumped from the bed and frantically ran to the living room. She found Komaeda on the couch, calmly leafing through a book. She looked up once Hinata entered, the noise alerting her.
“Oh, you're awake. I hope you're feeling better.” She greeted her with a smile.
“H-Hey, uuhmm, ah…” Hinata struggled to speak. Where would she even start? Ask for an explanation? Offer an explanation? Apologise? Chastise Komaeda for cleaning up the room while it wasn't her fault, and that she should have been the one to do it? Her mind scrambled for answers, but what she ended up saying was:
“Where's the collar?” She regretted that question the moment it left her lips. She could see Komaeda's expression change a bit, her eyes squinting and a frown forming. Concern? Disapproval?
“Well, I, uh, took it off from you.”
“Why? Where did you put it?!” The panic in her tone was obvious, and she couldn't help but cringe internally once it heard it escape her mouth. Komaeda's cold distance was adding salt to an already infected wound.
“I found you collapsed on the floor while you were wearing it. I feared for the worst, but you were breathing and didn't look like you fell on something, and the doctor said—”
“Y-You called the doctor?” It made perfect sense why Komaeda would have called the doctor. That's the normal response to finding your girlfriend on the ground, shortly after she had fainted the previous time, wearing the item that could have been connected to that distress. Hinata just didn't want to admit that her ego had been bruised.
“Yes.” Komaeda plainly stated. “That's usually what you're supposed to do when someone has fallen over, no? I don't see what's so weird about that…”
“Yeah, but—”
“Please, don't interrupt.” The way Komaeda uttered that sentence sounded so regular, it ended up coming off twice as cold. “I'm just trying to explain myself. I understand that I'm nowhere near knowledgeable enough to handle these things, and if something had happened to you due to my medical incompetence…” She turned her gaze to the floor.
“N-No, I didn't mean to, I just—ugh!” Hinata threw her hands up in the air in defeat.
“Just…the collar. I just want to know what happened to the collar.”
“Huh?” Komaeda tilted her head in confusion. “What is it about the collar? Wasn't it the reason why you had fainted in the first place? It would be kinda dangerous to seek it out again…”
“W-Well, I, uhh, you see…” Hinata found difficulty in expressing her fascination with the collar. Komaeda was right; it had only caused her grief, physically and mentally. So why? Why couldn't she stop thinking about it? How could she even verbalise those feelings?
“When I put on the collar, I remember… things. ” was what she settled on.
“...Eh?” Komaeda chuckled awkwardly.
“I remember… who I was. Before the program, before even Kamukura! And I know it's dangerous, but…” She rubbed the back of her neck, avoiding eye contact.
“I want to know. It's stupid a-and— T-The whole point should've been that we wouldn't have to care about stuff like that anymore, but… I don't even remember my classmates’ or my parents’ faces… I feel like I've missed out on so many things! I just wish I could at least know what happened…” Without even realising it, she found her unoccupied hand grabbing and tugging at her shirt. “But…it still feels so bad…”
“Hinata…” Komaeda looked at her pitifully, poor, pathetic Hinata who didn't know what she wanted or what was good for her. Putting the book down, she approached her, slowly, delicately, and put her arms around her.
“Oh, Hinata…” They embraced each other, even tighter than before. “It's okay, I…I understand…Having those memories kept from you like that…I suppose it's only natural that you'd want to find out more, persevering through all the hardships, just to find the answer…”
“Huh…Yeah, I guess… Are you going to tell me about ho—”
And suddenly, Komaeda put her hands on Hinata's shoulders and forced her to face her. “But it was still dangerous.” Even with the harshness of her words, she was still blissfully smiling, eyes closed. “If you had simply asked about it from the start, I wouldn't have hidden it from you, hm?”
“Y-Yeah, I probably should have done that…” Hinata looked away shamefully.
“Very well! Then, if we are on the same page, and you want to be honest with me from now on—”
“What do you want to do?”
Hinata smiled widely, for the first time in a while; She actually felt like laughing, reminiscing about how ridiculous the whole situation had become. And so, at that moment, looking into her girlfriend's eyes and smiling face, she was sure of her answer.