fragments of hope [danganronpa x reader]

05 | virus → hajime hinata

hajime hinata x gender neutral!AI!reader
there is a bit of gore concerning blood and blood stains. also, this may cause derealization due to reader repeatedly stating they're not real due to being an AI. enjoy!

_____________

"... You're not real, are you?"

It's silent when he tosses the accusation out at you. It's a bold allegation, but not necessarily a wrong one. Your silence is answer enough for him. You watch as his face falls, eyes betraying his innermost thoughts. He's hurt, betrayed - logical emotions. But he's sad... You are too.

You purse your lips, looking down at your hand. It glitches for a second - noticeable enough to anyone who's watching. "... No. No, I am not real. Though, I suppose I was at some point... None of this is real."

But it felt real is left unsaid. Perhaps it was real, in the abstract of things. You all had formed real memories (albeit they were built due to fake ones) and real friendships. The bonds between you all were real, but the situation you were in wasn't.

It was just a simulation. While the deaths of your friends left you grieving, it wasn't real. They had just been killed off in the game, nothing more. This wasn't a real island, wasn't a real killing game, you weren't a real person.

Just a memory of someone that used to be.

You look up at him, body glitching in and out of view for a few moments. It's an awkward feeling - cold flashes running through you everytime you glitch from view. When your body finally stabilizes, you take on the form of a corpse. Your eyes are pure white, pink blood dripping from your mouth. There's a spear running smack dab through your chest, a pink splatter of blood coating it.

This is the form of the dead - the dead human you had been replicated to be. Your memories had been theirs at one point. You weren't your own living person anymore - just a program. And that was a difficult truth for him to take.

Hajime Hinata stands in front of you, consumed by grief. There are tears sparkling in his eyes that have not yet fallen. Tears for someone he thought he knew, someone he used to know. He is wrecked.

"So you're not-" he cuts himself, clearing his throat as he wills himself to keep his composure. He was never too good at that, you muse. Always had a bit of a temper on him - quick to act and pretend. "You're not the real (y/n), are you?"

"No," you say to him sadly. "No, I'm not the real (y/n). I was designed in their image - I have all of their memories... but I don't... I don't hold a physical form outside of this simulation."

Hajime rubs a hand across his face, taking a step back. He looks up at the night sky - the one so unfamiliar to the one at home - and blinks rapidly, trying not to cry. "They're... T-They're really dead then, huh?" He lets out a pitiful laugh that sounds more like a choked sob. "They're gone?"

"Yes..." You glitch again but your body still remains in that corpse-like form. Your hand ghosts over the spear protruding from your chest. "I'm sorry."

He laughs wetly. "It's not your fault - damn, I'm not... I'm not blaming you." He locks eyes with you, his olive irises clouded by tears. "I can't blame you for your own death. You're not even-... You're not-..."

"I'm not them," you finish for him quietly, looking down to the side in an effort to avoid your gaze.

Silence fills this air. He's hesitant at first, but then he closes the gap between the two of you. His feet crunch softly against the sand as he approaches. He rests his forehead against yours, grabbing your hands. He then closes his eyes, and all there is is the sound of your breaths.