adsum | npc contact.1

[ The fingers in that fist reflexively curl in surprise before relaxing again, and Rokkun almost opens his eyes but squeezes his eyes shut tighter, because when somebody asks you to close their eyes, there's that unspoken "until I tell you to open them"

Little lights in the darkness are a better image to focus on than what he had before. It reminds him of fireflies in the forest at night, catching them and keeping them in a jar and the next day they'd be dead, suffocated. The only feeling then would be disappointment, which is somehow worse than nothing at all.

Yes. No. Both answers are on the tip of his tongue. What happened to death being a stepping stone? ]

...It's because they were just lights. Strangers in a crowd... When you get to know somebody, though, and see them, give them importance, you'll feel it when their light is extinguished.

( strangers in a crowd? then they were all nobodies to komaeda, parts of the world that held no meaning whatsoever, but that could have been different for everyone else. as for komaeda, each one of those lights... )

I was excited to crush them, I didn't have the luxury of experiencing something so simple. How I felt... ( because death is a stepping stone, and no matter if he's wrong or if he's right — he abides by hope, so he's always been... good. ) I enjoyed myself!

( and because they were souls with no actual form for him to care about, he would have sniped others if given the chance. )

To be seen isn't anything like seeing, to notice someone... they stand out compared to the rest. ...If that's true, out of all those lights, the one that stood out first was... you.

( glad that rokkun knows the rules to keeping his eyes shut until komaeda says so, because he's going to start by looking under his wristband to check his tallies as he speaks. this way he doesn't have to see komaeda doing it, but he sure as hell will feel it. )

Let's sneak out tonight, they won't be the same, but lights are lights. You weren't there when we saw them at first, but we can see them together.

[ Like a little kid squashing ants under their thumb on the pavement, is what comes to mind when Komaeda says he enjoyed extinguishing the lights. ...He's not sure what to think when he's compared to a light himself, one that stood out and was noticed.

The wristband lifts just enough for Komaeda to catch a glimpse of the inner wrist— still covered with innumerable cuts both deep and shallow, old and new, but none so new that they're actively bleeding like they were last time. That's as much as he gets before Rokkun both pulls his left arm back, and grips Komaeda's wrist with his right, not needing to see to know where his hand is. ]

Stop. [ ... Slowly, he lets go of Komaeda's wrist. ] We can watch the stars from the roof. But that's as close as you and I will be able to see that together.

Would you like to see mine, I've looked at yours time and time again... ah wait, here.

( he pauses, because his own arm is still tender from the new set he acquired from rokkun's memory, a twisted reminder of what the other has left on him. as rokkun let's go of his wrist, komaeda's slowly digging in his pocket as he they converse, watching as the other keeps his eyes closed. good boy! he pulls out the wishing rock that he obtained, and he sets it down into the male's hand. cold fingers push against rokkun's own, hoping it's enough to make him hold the item tight in his grasp. )

We may not be able to wish on any stars, but if we use this... we can give you sweet dreams, at least for once.

( the stars are as much as they can see, and he wants to comment about his own concerns while going, but... maybe they'll be lucky, and none of them will shift through the sky. it makes his stomach turn uncomfortably despite the fact he suggested it, and he chuckles softly because if he has someone else to focus on, it shouldn't be that bad. )

If not, stabbing myself can work, too.

[ He doesn't particularly care to see, but he doesn't get the chance to say so before the stone is set in his hand, and he immediately recognizes the shape and the heft for what it is, for how long he had held onto his.

Wishing his nightmares away would be a waste, but he can't help but feel comforted by the fact that Komaeda would waste a wish on him. ]

How would stabbing yourself work? [ He wants to open his eyes SO BAD so he can squint at Komaeda for this stupid idea ] As if watching you hurt yourself doesn't give me nightmares as it is.

...It shouldn't hurt you, Rokkun.

( can he say that when he saw rokkun hurt not once, but twice... how it felt like nails and wires dug into his heart, an uncomfortable feeling that he tries to forget. he could wonder if the other gets those, or if komaeda's breaking a little... not too sure how to parse such an itch in his chest. probably not, he suffers from the same arrangement of simple troubles that happen to be nightmares. )

I can guarantee you something at the cost of my life, or just inflicting pain on myself. It'll hurt, but if it's to help your hope, to give you at least one night without those terrors. Wouldn't that grow our bond, give you strength for another day?

( he has the rock, and still didn't even open his eyes... he has dog energy. )

I can even do it while your eyes are shut, then you'd never know!

[ The temptation to open his eyes so he can throw the rock at Komaeda's face—- ]

It does, though. Whether you go through with the act, or just talk about, or even think about throwing away what's left of your life or hurting yourself on purpose. I'd rather have the nightmares... because when I wake up, things are still okay.

( HE BRUISES EASILY, why does rokkun want to hurt komaeda so bad... isn't saying this enough.

...

at least rokkun can wake up and things are okay, at least he has that. komaeda's different, he doesn't have that luxury, and nor is his life worth anything. that's why it's so easy to throw away. )

...Do you wish you never met me?

( that way he wouldn't have to hurt, or have to say the things he says now, he could block out everything like komaeda does.

he takes a step forward, getting in his personal space to lean closer. without warning, komaeda places his head against rokkun's chest to try and listen to his heartbeat. )

No, I would nev—

[ his voice cuts out at the warmth and the weight against his chest, heartbeat quickening and he has no doubt that Komaeda would be able to hear it and feel it.

He cracks open an eye to see what's going on— but just barely, in case Komaeda is looking somehow and he can pretend he didn't do that— but all he sees is the top of his head, closer than he's ever been, and he has to force his arms still before they're tempted to wrap around him and keep him there.

Eyes closed again. ]

You know I would never.

( why does it do that, and part of him doesn't understand why he's doing this himself. the last time he checked his heart, it stopped, a telltale sign that he was dead, but peaceful despite the loss. as of right now, his body isn't cold, his heart beats desperately in his ears, and komaeda remains there trying to recall something: )

We found someone in the ice cold river, and it was being taken away by the currents... I was carrying Sakasaki-kun, Adams-san is blind so she wouldn't have made it, Hinata-kun was carrying Adams-san...

...

...

The lack of care I have for my life, and can you believe...

( he pauses, and luckily komaeda doesn't care for personal space so this isnt odd for him. he peels himself off the other before rokkun's arms have a mind of their own. within their conversation, his breathing's audible between every few words, voice still slow. )

You can open them now.

[ They came across a murder scene... this never happened in Rokkun's dreams or experiences... don't just trail off like that

It's cold and empty when Komaeda pulls away, and Rokkun breathes out before he opens his eyes, blinking back the pain the bright light causes until his eyes readjust before finding Komaeda's eyes.

? ]

I touched you, and your body tore... but I wouldn't let you go, and Adams-san was determined to keep you from tearing in half like we previously seen... ( despite the conversation, he manages to smile because it's what he's used to. ) so she used my jacket to... stop you from bleeding. Ah, make sure you thank her when you see her.

( he doesn't feel guilty, he thinks, and he knows rokkun won't let him. sadly, it's familiar... being close enough to see him suffer again, to know that he's constantly part of why the other goes through so much pain.

that's the life in the day of komaeda, does anyone know happiness around him? )

Now... When you opened your eyes, the expression you wore then doesn't match the one now.

[ This got gruesome fast; he's imagining being torn in half like SMT's pisaca or something, but... It's not something that happened. Look at him now: he's fine. Confused, but fine. ]

What did I look like...?

I could tell... immediately who you were, as for the others... I believed Sakasaki-kun was smart enough to figure it out, but as for Adams-san and Hinata-kun; they were unaware. Color was drained from your face, ( komaeda raises a hand to lightly run his own cool fingers against the warm skin of his cheek ) the only thing about you was the color red... and maybe you were around the age of fifteen? I couldn't ask. You didn't notice us, or say a lot... all you said was that...

( he crosses his arms, thinking how he should have brought that jacket with him. )

You were cold.

[ Okay, so, this thread would have been Very different if Komaeda had walked into the room with a bloody jacket. There would have been a lot more yelling, compared to the silence that Rokkun falls into now. The mention of being cold doesn't surprise him, considering the fact that he was apparently dying, and at the age of fifteen...

... ]

Why... were you able to see that? Nobody was supposed to be there. Nobody was there.

( did he dodge a bullet or maybe he should have had that bloody jacket with him, maybe a little yelling is good for the soul... komaeda does like verbal abuse, so it'd work. he sighs, memorizing rokkun's heartbeat in the silence, but once he speaks does it leave from komaeda's mind, and he looks at him, watching his expression. )

Asking questions like that doesn't matter, because at the time... it was us. ( he looks down at his hand, humming thoughtfully. ) ...We all stood in the cool, thoughts going through our mind if you would die. It's happened once between us, so to see it a second time... I gave you my hand, though it didn't matter to that version of you. I don't know... what compelled you to move, but...

( here we go, his serious tone shifts to one that's more excited, almost expected due to the conversation. even his eyes light up, a familiar swirl of hope and despair merges into pale green, that empty look in his eyes lost. its hard to contain anything, coughing once, and then twice, and it isn't long until an abrupt laugh leaves from his throat! he reaches out, his fingers gripping into rokkun's shirt, wanting to keep him in place... even if his organic fingers twitch from the action. if there was a mood here, he's probably ruined it, this... he wants to talk, tell his thoughts, how he was then, how he is now... different, but hope... hope... talking to rokkun now... )

You were... what was the word I used? Admirable!? Even took Adams-san's cane to force yourself to stand, you're such a mess... Rokkun, that desperation that brought you to move forward... that hope... it really is something that you do! Rejoice!

[ Maybe Komaeda dodged a bullet, maybe he's firing a machine gun at Rokkun's face because, uh,

He looks down at Komaeda's hand, clutching his shirt, up at his eyes that aren't seeing him.

Admirable isn't a word Komaeda's ever used for him, and the first time he gets to hear it it's about his 15-year-old dying self who isn't him. Komaeda extending his hand would have mattered, if it were him. If it were him... he wouldn't have been surrounded by people in the first place, there would be nobody's hand to take, nobody's cane to lean on, nobody but himself to drag his body forward slow inch by inch across the numbing ice that he had welcomed. ]

You're... [ ... ] It didn't happen like that, Nagito. If it did, I wouldn't be here.

Aha. ( he blinks, his eyes normal again, and he doesn't even remember what he's rambled so far. ) It's fine, this school is such a weird place, but that doesn't matter... does it?

( he smiles, looking down at his hands where he finds himself slowly letting rokkun go, he gets handsy, which he'll apologize for later after his mind gets settled. he forces himself to take a step back, to take a deep breath and remind himself that they're having a serious conversation, he shouldn't be touching. he places a hand on his own waist, that little gay posture as he glances off to the side. it's not like anything they did would change today, he already knew that rokkun in this world was fine, that his sibling at the end was also fine — but he probably sounds delusional. )

You wouldn't be here if you had lived, is what you're saying? ( ... ) I believe you wanted someone to be there for you, at the time.

[ He frowns, looking down at Komaeda's hands when he slowly lets go. But yeah, that's what he's saying. If he hadn't died— if he hadn't closed his eyes, just for a moment, he hadn't meant to fall asleep. Didn't even have the strength to open his eyes when he felt the warmth that enveloped his body, somebody yelling, somebody talking but he couldn't make out the words, but he had thought it was—-

... ]

I was always the one who had to take care of everyone and everything, all the time. I wouldn't have been foolish enough to think somebody would be there for me when I needed them.

( he sighs, shaking his head, he's looking around the art room in search of a chisel... where is it! )

Is that why you're like this, why... you do everything alone, keep secrets... because you don't want to rely on others because you're afraid of it?

( that boy who got up, who persevered through the cold, the waging war of his body pushing him down, forward, wherever it wanted him to drop, that hope. it may be true that his end was unfortunate in one way, just like that child admitted — the past can't be changed, but... it's all too confusing, how did the rock come back with him, how did he have his blood on his body. )

...It showed in your actions, you led us to a cottage not too far away from that ice covered river, you held Adams-san hand, and used her cane. You had something to take care of, even while we were there... it's not like any of us mattered, but... it would make sense.

( who was waiting there, the young child that cried upon seeing his mangled body... that was someone he wanted to get home too. komaeda can't understand the feelings behind coming back home to loved ones, or well, his smile was brief when he was able to return to his ultmates back home — yet, that's not the same thing, he doesn't understnd, doesn't want to understand. )

The way you held onto her, that bit of extra support... that push... what do you think hope is if not having those around you to help your foundation, to give you a chance to reach the pinnacle of your hope... you are no Ultimate, but even people like you can impress me if your efforts is a beacon to others.

[ He swallows, trying to imagine. What it would be like if there were others there, what he might have felt when he first saw home in the horizon again, whether he was able to... ... But it didn't happen that way, and he can only ever feel as if that were another person, a Rokuro who had succeeded where he himself had failed.

It's kind of funny, being jealous of yourself.

Back then, what was he trying so hard for? A baby brother, whose name and face he had told Stephanie he didn't remember and he hadn't been lying— it was only a few nights ago that he could remember, waking up in the middle of the night with his face wet and chest feeling hollow. And he'd close his eyes and try to go back to sleep, have that nightmare again and again, never once being able to reach that cabin or that person on his own. ]

I'm not afraid of it... [ mumbled, decidedly not looking at Komaeda because maybe the reason for needing to do everything himself boils down to pride, a stupid reason. What he says, though, ] I just never had anybody to rely on.

[ Which is maybe even more stupid, because he remembers Rika asking time and time again for him to open up a little and accept her help, he remembers Komaeda offering— maybe for the sake of hope, but it was his hope. He remembers Akki, and why he had tried to set him on fire...

...

He remains quiet. ]

( as komaeda searches for the chisels, his hands pushing through papers, a light hiss when his pinky hits against something rough, and he doesn't move his arm much from the pain. though, nothing must hurt as much as this does for the other.

it's hypocritical for komaeda to stand here, to say anything like this to rokkun, to think he has any right when he himself has his own difficulties he can't overcome. an ultimate himself, and yet he hates his entire existence despite loving a group that shares a title with him. he can't even expose himself to others without a smile, he's unable to cry properly because what's being sad when his entire life is depressing, what is crying if it's not just for hope — it's always been like that, the way he's shed his tears.

yet, he won't admit it to himself, and perhaps this is unfair, considering when komaeda lived in world of no talent, no hope, and he was a normal individual; he was happier there. he had friends, he counted on others, and they depended on him — they appreciated his company, all because of a world where he threw away hope for other's happiness. he would never do that, he can't subject himself to a world that disgusting, it bothers him so much it feels painful — at his world destroyed, he had made sure that no one saw what he dreamt, the only place he felt safe from the shock of his death.

in a way, rokuro's memory is a place where komaeda would understand that he wouldn't want anyone to see, but it was looked upon — they invaded a personal space. once komaeda pushes himself away from his search, unsuccessful it seems, he digs his hands into the pockets of his attire, and he leans forward to to look up from where the other had turned his head. )

You have plenty to rely on, you should hold onto what you have before it's gone forever. ( ...

he wishes he could understand those words for himself, but he gives this advice the best way he can. ) There's always a test run, Rokkun, you're desperate, add it to what you know best.

[ He has plenty to rely on like what? who?

Just Komaeda, in front of him, doing his best to encourage him like he tends to do, even when Rokkun's gut reaction is to push back. Even Akki who he's working with, it's more of a business partner relationship than anything else, and he knows what Akki thinks of him.

He looks down at the stone still in his hands, remembering the last time he had held one.

... ]

I know. I didn't spend all these years here to have nobody on my side, even if they're not at my side.

[ Plenty of people he's on good terms with. His classmates, his kohai, the art club members, the soccer team... He doesn't have to start off with big secrets; a test run can be something small, like... ... ...lending somebody a pencil, and trusting they give it back at the end of class. ]

( his eyes drop to the stone in his hand, watching the way the other is observing it, but komaeda won't take it back — it doesn't belong to him. wishes, things like that... they're more for rokkun than himself. )

As long as you believe in their hope, use their hope to strengthen yours... they're by your side. You distance yourself too much, especially when you're likeable... an idiot, but can be well-liked.

( he probably doesn't need people to like him, but he'll reach up, and lay his organic hand on top of his head, fingers moving through his hair to see how soft it is. ...

... )

If you need names, Sakasaki-kun, Hinata-kun, and Helena-kun may not know you as... well as I do.

( can he say that, it feels like... he's intruding on something. )

You can rely on them, I doubt they'll want to see your foundation struggle anymore than it has... Hope can be made with others, and that way it'll shine bright, and knowing you'll be part of that before my time is up will be rather rewarding.

[ His hair is... passably soft. Soft enough to swish around when he turns his head, but not as soft as npc-kun's

Komaeda's "using people's hope" is the same as Rokkun's "using people" which is objectively not a great thing. He recognizes that, along with the fact that he keeps people at arm's length, wanting to be surface-level liked but nothing deeper than that, nothing that makes people try to see him.

And here is Komaeda listing the names of people who saw him, a pitiful him no matter how Komaeda praised him, a memory he had locked away so he could forget his failures and only look forward from now on. ]

Hope made of pity...

[ He sighs, leaning back. He likes Hinata well enough, being classmates, but hasn't had much reason to talk to the other two. They only feel sorry for him because they saw him die. It's those sorts of thoughts, justifications he comes up with on his own and decides to be truth, that makes it hard not to distance himself. ]

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