[His heart throbs, aching in his chest. Mind racing, ire trickles through him like a syrupy poison.
And he won't even own up to it in the end.
That's alright.]
Still shirking it off on me, huh? I should have expected as much.
[It's alright, because he'll make him see it.]
I'll make it clear to you, then.
[I'll force the truth before your eyes... until you can't look away, Komaeda!]
Telling me you're thinking about me. Those soft smiles you'd wear around me sometimes. The way you'd hold onto me like you don't want to let go. And the way you talked, as if I meant anything to you... All of that paints a picture of someone who cares, even just a little bit.
[They're things that would make Hinata blush to say out loud, if it were any other day. If he hadn't woken up like the world was ending.]
And yet, I remember the Final Dead Room now.
[He shouldn't need to elaborate on it anymore than that. Being talked down to, looked at like he's less than nothing, the gaze and words that cut through him like he doesn't deserve to even be alive.]
So tell me, Komaeda, which one is real? Are you going to tell me I'm having another hallucination on the floor? What's really the truth?
[Tell me it isn't real, he begs in his mind, the last fragile beats of his bleeding heart, that what he saw in his head wasn't enough to kill off.
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And he won't even own up to it in the end.
That's alright.]
Still shirking it off on me, huh? I should have expected as much.
[It's alright, because he'll make him see it.]
I'll make it clear to you, then.
[I'll force the truth before your eyes... until you can't look away, Komaeda!]
Telling me you're thinking about me. Those soft smiles you'd wear around me sometimes. The way you'd hold onto me like you don't want to let go. And the way you talked, as if I meant anything to you... All of that paints a picture of someone who cares, even just a little bit.
[They're things that would make Hinata blush to say out loud, if it were any other day. If he hadn't woken up like the world was ending.]
And yet, I remember the Final Dead Room now.
[He shouldn't need to elaborate on it anymore than that. Being talked down to, looked at like he's less than nothing, the gaze and words that cut through him like he doesn't deserve to even be alive.]
So tell me, Komaeda, which one is real? Are you going to tell me I'm having another hallucination on the floor? What's really the truth?
[Tell me it isn't real, he begs in his mind, the last fragile beats of his bleeding heart, that what he saw in his head wasn't enough to kill off.
His Komaeda doesn't lie.
Tell me you care.
Tell me I have a talent.
Tell me I'm worth something to you.]