Holding Onto Ghosts - Komahina/Hinakoma

Chats

 The days almost blur together, with the way they're passing by. Everyday is just rinse and repeat - you are disgusting. You are wrong. You are everything wrong with the world. But not to us - we're kind enough to see past that and help you. Fix you.

It's, shockingly, not a great experience.

Every time he meets his eyes in the mirror he can't help the hatred in them. He can't help the way that he wonders about what it would be like if he was just - normal. If his parents just hadn't found out.

Or if he just wasn't the way that he is. How easy it must be, to like girls exclusively. To have your life planned for you from childhood with no little hiccups or bumps like attraction to the same gender. How easy.

Maybe if he wasn't like this, there would be pride in their eyes for once.

Fucking faggot.

The disappointment on their faces wasn't new. It was just for a stronger reason this time.

He misses the popcorn ceiling.

There's nothing to look at on the one at the camp, really, it's just smooth. No bumps to count, no dots to connect. He feels blank, sometimes.

Then again, life might be easier if it was like that all the time. A clean slate. No emotions to get in the way.

What was the point of all of it?

He rolled over and peered over the top bunk, and, seeing that Nagito was still reading, scooted over to the ladder and started to go down.

Maybe he could read with him.

Maybe they could talk.

Or something.

Nagito looks up from his book with a little welcoming smile, patting the bed next to him and shifting to make room - sitting cross-legged instead of sprawled out now.

It's become a kind of tradition for them to just sit here at night - either talking or reading. Strangely enough, after their fight, things had gotten a lot easier between them. More comfortable.

So he doesn't feel too awkward when he sits down and doesn't even reach for a book, just flopping out across the bed with a little sigh.

It's not really unexpected when Nagito sets aside his own book, looking at Hinata sprawled out with an expression he can't identify. There's a weird obligation he seems to feel to keep Hinata 'entertained'.

"Couldn't sleep?" Komeada asks, shifting again so he's laying down next to Hinata.

"Yeah."

"Me either. Of course, it's to be expected. I haven't slept well since I got to this place."

"Same"

It's short, but Komeada doesn't seem to mind that he doesn't put the very most effort into talking to him, seeming content for the moment to just lay there in silence.

"Hinata-kun?"

So much for that. Whatever, it's not like he really minds either way.

"I may be out of line for me to say this... but, it's very nice to have someone to spend time with. I really like y - I really like your company."

A little smile creeps onto his face despite himself - he can't help it. He blinks over at Nagito, whose features look harsher under the flashlight. His hair still looks soft enough to run his fingers through.

"I like your company, too," Hinata admits. Sure, he's weird and annoying at times, but he's... pleasant to be around. There's something about the comfortable silence that blankets them that's so nice. It feels... right.

"I haven't been close to anyone in a very long time, Hinata-kun."

"Even your parents?"

Komeada laughs, though there isn't really any humor in it. "My parents are dead. They died when I was a little kid. That's why i- that's why my landlord sent me here."

Hinata just nods, because he can't really think of anything to say to that. "So you know your landlord well?"

Komaeda sighs and props himself up on his elbows, eyebrows furrowing. "No. My parents never fully paid for the house, so I rent it using money I inherited. He's technically in control of my stay."

"You want to stay... because it's your parents house," Hinata realizes, blinking. He supposes it makes sense. Komaeda had never seemed interested in the slightest in 'conversion' and had always stuck by the fact that it couldn't change him. But he was still here for a reason.

In a twisted way, he was here because of his parents, too.

Hajime felt guilt nip at his chest - he didn't really have a right to complain about his current situation. At least he had a family left to care about him. At least he wouldn't be returning to an empty house when all of this was over.

His breath caught in his throat as he turned back to Nagito, who was staring at the bunk above them. He looked like his mind was really far away.

It wasn't fair that he was that pretty.

Hinata pulls his eyes away, swallowing hard.