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Chapter Seven

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Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ Sᴇᴠᴇɴ - Uɴᴜsᴜᴀʟʟʏ Sᴀғᴇ Wʜᴇɴ Yᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ Nᴇᴀʀ
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Hajime's POV:

It's been two days since that ordeal with Chiaki and Usami. Most of the time between then and now, I stayed in my cottage, desperately trying to dream the day away. I've been trapped on this island to communicate with other human beings I have never heard of before? No! Screw that!

No one here likes me, and I don't like anyone here, that's the end of it! Well, I guess I appreciate that Chiaki's here... just to subside the fact that every morning I feel closer and closer to death.

As per usual, I got up, stared at myself in the mirror for an absurdly long time and headed out for breakfast. Fortunately, Terteru was the one making the food this morning, so I was in luck. Nagito was picked yesterday, and let's just say it ended in a disaster. He got injured, Mikan started panicking, Hiyoko rushed in and caused more havoc, Mahiru tried to stop her, etc. I just grew tired of it all.

Eventually, I emerged from my room and glanced around the area. No one was here, except Chiaki.

...

Wait, Chiaki? I stared in silence at her, hoping that she had not seen me. I just stood there, peering from inside my cottage. Waiting, waiting, waiting... After a couple seconds, I noticed that I had been looking directly at her for a tad too long. I thought to myself,
"I really should be at the restaurant by now, the others must all be there already." I contemplated moving away, but always chose against it. Why did I feel so safe in this way, creepily staring at one of my classmates. I looked like an idiot, didn't I? I shouldn't be reacting so pleasantly to something so strange. I shook my head and thought again,
"I'm actually a creep. That's what I am," and promptly left the scene, lowering my head in embarrassment. The feeling was gone now, but it felt cold and lonely, as if someone had laid a wet cloth over my forehead. It was fine, everything was fine.

Suddenly, I could feel my chest throbbing with a harsh pain, as if my heart would explode. I must have some sort of illness, right. Maybe I shouldn't be going to the restaurant; I might infect others! But where did I get it from in the first place? Was it even an illness? Something was off about the way my heart raced. It was so irregular and strange, I couldn't even comprehend the idea.

It might be too soon to say this, and I know that very well, but I think I might have fallen in love.