yogen | APRIL EVENT LOG/TDM

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The opening ceremony starts at 8, with students and staff moving to the auditorium to sit with their homeroom class, calling characters out by name and dragging them over to their seat— physically if need be, and they're much stronger than they look. Much like the graduation ceremony, characters are not forced to come to the entrance ceremony, but the moment they take a seat, they find that they can neither speak nor get up again until the ceremony is over.

A teacher stands behind the podium on stage. Characters may recognize pieces of the speech from the previous year. He takes the time to welcome Yogen High's new students first, followed by acknowledging the transfer, returning, and repeat students. As he goes on, the teacher encourages students to instead focus on their own personal growth, and developing strong bonds that will allow them to reach their goals. He sighs as he explains that the Principal and Vice Principal are currently not available before he reminds students that violence is strictly prohibited and that there will be strict consequences for anyone who is caught engaging in misconduct.

The teacher concludes by noting that teachers will inform them of any important announcements. He wishes everybody a fulfilling school year, and reminds them that they have the power to shape the future. The ceremony concludes in a little under an hour, and the spell binding the students to their seats is broken, allowing everybody to rise and leave.

School lets out for the rest of the day with classes starting the next morning, and while many students take the opportunity to leave, some linger around the school.

08:00 04/06-04/09

Classes resume as usual, and it's the same old routine, with gossip and rumors spreading about, and students growing excited over new club advertisements, and fortune telling ads in addition to upcoming events. In an effort to encourage students to form lasting relationships, the school has set up events for the first week with plans for smaller events throughout the month. The PDA logs have been wiped clean with the start of the year, and all messages from before 04/05 are gone.

✽ Tuesday, 04/06 will be a simple Welcome Back. The day will be dedicated to giving important announcements, including the events for the rest of the week, introducing students to clubs, etc. There will be a potluck with various sweets and snack items, along with time dedicated to getting-to-know you style games and other such activities.
✽ Wednesday, 04/07 will feature the beginning of a Team Building Scavenger Hunt! There are no items to be found, but instead students are given a list of tasks to complete and turn into their homeroom teacher. Examples include introducing yourself to a new student, doing something nice for another student, being asked to identify a specific student who fits a certain criteria, anything that can be used to encourage interactions.
✽ Thursday, 04/08 will feature karaoke night in the music room. There is a karaoke machine set up along with a screen set up, along with some CDs with all the greatest hits of the 90ws. There is a decorative backdrop set up along with party decorations. There are inflatable music notes, cut out notes, microphones, record albums, and instruments taped along the wall, and a box full of props for students to use if they so choose.
✽ Friday, 04/09 will feature a game night held in class 1-B. Desks have been pushed together to form tables and covered in cloths, and various board and card games have been set out for students. There is a TV with an N64 and Playstation set out along with various games.

Outside of classes, the days wear on, and students come in with bruises and scraped knees and elbows and bloody noses. They smear blood on the walls and drip it onto the floor, splatter it onto the mirror without meaning to, bringing along with it a sense of vertigo. Characters looking in the mirror may find that they catch sight of something. It's there reflected in the mirror, a shadowy and dark figure in the edge of their vision, but it the moment they look away it disappears, leaving behind only a chill in the air. The mirror room is almost unbearably cold.

04/10-04/30

Characters who look in mirrors will see the shadowy figure reflected in it growing closer to them. It's an odd sight to be sure, and the cold air it brings with clings to the skin, but even as they draw close they seem to do no harm. It's only once they're right behind a character that they'll begin to notice it - the cold that clings to them no matter how warm the room, the faint tingling of their skin, the sleepiness that settles in, and the whispers in their ear.

It's faint at first, barely noticeable if not for its persistence, but over time those whispers will grow louder; the coolness on their skin will turn into a cold that chills them down to the bone, and the unrested feeling becomes a constant fatigue and lethargy. The words and tone vary, as do the voices, but each and every one eats into the character. They might speak of a character's insecurities or guilt, or they might leave them with a sinking loneliness, or perhaps they promise the warmth and companionship that a character desires, or any other number of matters that so often tug at the mind.

The figures can be viewed through mirrors. Those with supernatural sight or an adderstone will similarly be able to see them following characters, latching onto them. Items that ward off the supernatural may help, but the only way to truly ward them off is with bonds formed in the school. The figures seem to be warded off by the presence of another person. The cold disappears with the slightest touch, the whispering stops during conversation, and for that time they're given a brief reprieve. But they often seem to come back the moment a person passes by a mirror once more.

OOC

✽ The school will be hosting various smaller team building exercise throughout the month which can range from exercises to group projects. There are examples here, so feel free to pick what works best for your goals.
✽ The shadowy figures will appear more frequently where there is blood, fresh or otherwise.
✽ Characters who are isolated will find that they are more susceptible to being followed by the figures, and it may take longer interactions to dispel them completely.
✽ Items from the student shop that ward off supernatural creatures will aide in keeping the shadows from getting too close at first, but their effectiveness will wear off the longer a character is followed. They seem to be most effective when used in conjunction with interactions with others, and especially others who have similar items (i.e. a character with a silver cross and a character with a gold chain.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ It's not a ghost, but a simulation. It's no different than how a human might pull upon the memories of another, but it's too precise for that. It's every piece of information that he's been able to gather about Nagito Komaeda over the past nine months, compiled and shaped into an approximate replication. It's a slight variation of creating an AI of him, because the person before him will never truly fade away.

But it's still just a memory, warm and nostalgic, like laying down on sofa in front of a warm fireplace after coming back in from the freezing cold. For all of his rush to catch up, having done so his mind feels at ease, and the corners of his mouth tic up just briefly behind the card.

He adapts as always, the pieces of his code meant to make him perfect backfiring now.

They're almost to the second floor, and from there to the workshop. There's a project he's been working on. There's blood on the stairs, pink and red and black splotches alongside glitter. It's drenched his hands and up his arms and it's splattered against his face and chest and pattering as it pools at his feet, ah, it's going to be such a pain to get the stains out later and something is wrong. It's a bigger project than he expected, and it's difficult because the person who created it

SYSTEM ERROR (-500587): ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

is busy today. They're taking the stairs up to the rooftop. ]

'Kay.

[ There was never any blood, just the sound of rain pattering against the window. ]

Do you think it'll stop raining soon?

( his footsteps pass in the blood that's not there, on the steps, against the railing, and his actions match with the substance. he'll see his footprints sink into the substance, and his hand smears blood as they move up. the individual beside him says nothing because it's everything natural, that said there's nothing unusual to him as he goes up, and up and up the steps.

the space probably feels empty beside ranger, he coukd lift his arm to try and catch him, but he always feels too far away. yet, out the corner of his eye he'll see komaeda with his hands hidden in his pockets, and probably him looking in one direction so that ranger can't see his face. )

Getting tired of the rain?

( some find comfort from rain hitting the glass and roof, watching the world cry for the moment as a happier scene is given afterwards: a rainbow. if ranger ever follows one, it'll lead to a pot of gold, or blood, those luxuries of happiness mingled with entrails and body parts, but he can clean the tokens! he can take the gold jewels! rip them out the body, what makes being a human such a luxury! part the mouth, remove the coin, cut open the body, remove the coin. )

Everything comes to an end, so maybe soon! ...Think we'll see the green light.

( it's a reference from the great gatsby. how long will they sit at the dock in the rain? )

I want to see a green light.

[ The green light at the end of the dock, a symbol of everlasting love and unattainable dreams. People are born to love, and people are willing to die for love, and that's what makes up the core of a human. Ranger wasn't born to love, nor can he die for it, and so he can never qualify as human. There's a green light for him in the distance, illuminating all the sparkling fragments of futures that will never be. They're soaked in blood and painted black, crushed underheel into nothing but dust.

Will they see it...? ]

Yeah, I'm sure we will... I don't mind if it keeps raining.

[ It'll be their lighthouse in the distance, guiding them through fog and storm, and that keeps him going up each step. He can realize everything except happiness, as he already has everything that should offer it to a person: a body that will never age nor break down, a mind that will forever remain sharp, material wealth and information that outweighs it a hundredfold. Glitter and gold and sparkles and sweets, but none of the sweet dreams that could be attained by stuffing a human full of such things. ]

Maybe we'll find the a red bird, and then we can both be happy.

[ They'll find the red bird of happiness, that'll take them to the forever land - ah, isn't that supposed to be a blue bird? No, he's certain its dyed in red, for it's hidden within the smallest of many nested boxes. Layer and layer is shed, time wasted and light blocked by the many boxes set about in the room, only to find that the box was far too little and far too late.

A story with a simple moral: Everlasting happiness is a joke. But they can have it if they find it.

Komaeda is the blue bird, wandering through world after world without even a drop of red clinging to its beautiful feathers. He can be happy if he could just catch him, throw him in a tiny cage and hold him close to his chest. He's not lonely, because he's already caged that bird up, even if his hand can never reach it when his fingers won't fit through the tiny gaps left in the cage. It lifts, reaches, falls back down without finding purchase. ]

Long ago, there were two butterflies with white wings.

( as he talks, his lips never seem to match up with the words if ranger spares a glance to look at komaeda's reflection from the window. there's no reason to tell this story because how does it match up, if there's a concept it connects to then ranger will have to find it, make sense of it as his nerves backfire, and the data rewrites the world, fixes it, and tries to process it correctly. )

They were very close. They flew everywhere together. After flying together so often, they fell in love.

( a green light, and then a red bird, and finally a butterfly. together, there's only one that'll be found out in heavy rain, and that would be the light out in the distance. if there's no light then there's nothing to reach for, they're better off giving up on those hopes and beliefs, but komaeda has never allowed his hope to waver completely. it's all he has. a red bird would be rare in the rain, because why didn't it take shelter, and return home to its family? why would it come out for them?

it'll be struck by lightening, and with crippled wings it'll die on the ground as the pitter patter of the rain drowns out its cries. )

But then, one day... a powerful storm comes and strikes the two lovers. Driving rain, raging gales.

( ranger can hear the faintest hint of a smile even though komaeda won't look at him, but why smile at a story that now tears two people apart? his lips still don't match up with his words, and perhaps he's talking about something else more important. even when his lips close completely to stare outside, his voice is still heard. )

The two butterflies huddles together under some leaves, desperate to survive. ( an audible sigh, but komaeda has already stopped talking. ) But... how could it be? One of them could not withstand the rain, and died. The remaining butterfly weeps.

( as they make it up the last step, komaeda stands in the hall to look down one particular path, but they're meant to go up. there's nothing he needs there, but even memories lag for some people, before he turns towards ranger properly, his head staring up at the lights, and his eyes squint from how bright they are. )

It wept and wept and wept until it could weep no more. Drowning in a pond of its tears, a passing traveler scoops it up and rescues it. The traveler asks the butterfly: Why are you crying?

( komaeda proceeds to talk again with his lips moving, but the story has always been going without him. is this a story that ranger needs to know or has he always known it, perhaps he'll reject it until his code decides to accept it— for now, it's all chaos and corruption, for worse and worse, but this komaeda can do nothing about it. )

The butterfly replies: I am sad because my other half is gone. ( he steps onto another flight of stairs. ) The traveler then says: Then come to ▓▒▓▒▓▒. If you follow this path, you will reach a paradise called ▓▒▓▒▓▒. Those who have passed on gather and live there in harmony. If the one you desire is there...

I want to see them again.
If only I could see them again.

The butterfly doesn't hesitate. It bids farewell to the traveler and heads off to ▓▒▓▒▓▒. But the way is treacherous. Buffeted by the strong winds, the butterfly is slammed to the ground many times.

( could that be why ranger's code has started to... is he unable to handle the extent of everything that continues to harm him back to back? but that would mean calling him the butterfly of this story who has lost a piece of themselves. )

It's beautiful white wings become covered in mud. Everyone laughs at the now-black butterfly. But the black butterfly does not give up. Morning, day, and night. It flutters along in search of ▓▒▓▒▓▒. And so, time passes. The butterfly's body an dspirit have become fatigued, and it can move no longer.

( there's a shift as komaeda jumps forward, enthusiastic now and somehow, his words seem to match up. his hands raise into the arm, an excited tone to his voice. )

At last, the black butterfly can see it! The entrance to ▓▒▓▒▓▒!

( then his hands drop down to his sides, and he finally looks at ranger who can see his face now with a bit of a frown. )

The next page is ripped out, though... do you remember how it went?

Edited (THE BIG GAPS WAS GETTING TO ME) 2022-04-12 23:51 (UTC)

[ He listens to the story quietly as they move along. It's a story that he's heard before, though for some reason each word seems new to him. He watches the reflection as they pass by windows, recognizing anomalies without processing them or committing them to memory. It's normal. It doesn't matter. It's within his grasp, it's within his sight. It's footsteps that echo in his ears, time marches on, seconds and minutes that steal away ones life and so with every second he grows colder and the world seems a little darker and maybe the person standing beside him is the only real thing in this world.

The green light, birds that promise everlasting happiness and beautiful worlds, butterflies that searches for a place that can't exist and he's looking for someone - where is it, where is it, what is that word, that place that he's looking for? He thinks it's

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System errors go off. Critical error. Fatal error. Terminations. His system repairs them all in rapid succession, drivers and programs seamlessly resetting. He doesn't realize that he'd stopped in the middle of the hall, just as his partner had before, and so he carries on without worry. He barely looks forward as they move from the stairs to damage hallway. If you fall on your way to paradise, then you'll just keep falling, crashing through floors and object and going deeper and deeper until you finally hit the bottom without knowing where you've wound up at all.

Hell, he thinks, straight to Hell. But Hell would be ▓▒▓▒▓▒ so long as he still had this, and it's already frigid enough to be Hell, but he's not lonely or sad at all.

All systems are functioning within normal parameters. Everything is fine. He doesn't want to be fixed. ]

No, you never told me the ending.

[ Wasn't that a different story? No, it was this one. He had forgotten before. Ranger remembers though, kind words and soft touches, the warm blood that cools and becomes sticky, ah, it had hurt so much, he hates pain, he hates the cold, and he thinks if he could just reach out and grab him it'd be fine because he'd never let go and then he'd never have to feel this way again. ]

But you can't go to paradise without giving up everything that you are. You have to throw your entire life away - your living body and pain and pleasure and your senses and you can't see or hear or touch and you're going to go somewhere far away where I can't find you.

[ They're cobbled together words and phrases, bits and pieces of complete statements that might make sense, but he's certain that he'll be the butterfly that flutters off. He'll disappear off to some empty space where there's no need to suffer, to that place that he dreams of that's filled with hope, because in a place like that nothing else can exist. He'll be all alone and burning up and freezing and so, so tired, and if he falls he thinks he'll never be able to get up again. But Ranger wants to see him again, to look at him and to touch him, and if he could in that place then even if it meant giving up everything then maybe he would...

...

...

Critical error ▇0▇760 at address S▇86▇▇▇.

He ha the faint sense that something just terminated, but he can't tell what it was... Ah, it's fine. His system is running normally. ]

Edited 2022-04-13 03:06 (UTC)

That's why you don't follow me.

( to reach paradise does mean to give up so much, to give up the essence of life, to lose all direction and leave it all to one's whims. the other person is supposed to keep living, it's a very komaeda thought process, it's the sort of move he'd do on a chess board while moving his king, protecting the queen. the ultimate has always been attuned to death, looks like it, and sometimes it feels like his body isn't there—

because he's not, he's just empty space as he leads ranger up and up the flight of steps, and if he pauses in his actions, he finds that after a few steady blinks that komaeda has remained by him regardless despite him still walking along. ranger's concerns are no different from the black butterfly, but there's concerns, always has been concerns. what did the black butterfly worry over? well, that's only learned as soon as the story continues. )

You have to keep living.

( are words that overlap each other, because living is what ranger knows best, it's his self-preservation, but maybe he can't hear them any longer. perhaps the idea of remaining alive doesn't exist to him even though he'll be unable to discern what voice it is that overlaps komaeda's own until there's a visible inhale from the data molded figure next to him, and his hand opens where blood is pooled into the center, and he points in the middle without any worry. even as the liquid rolls down his wrist, down the arm and into the darkness of his sleeve. )

The black butterfly travels in search of its other half, the white butterfly. It flies day after day, all the whole being laughed at by everyone else. When it finally collapses, that is when it finds the verdant paradise, ▓▒▓▒▓▒. But then, the butterfly turns and returns down the path it came from. The butterfly turns its back on paradise. When it collapsed, it was atop of sand in the desert. As it lays there, dying, it opened its eyes and saw a mirage of the white butterfly. The butterfly is happy at the sight of its lover, so it dies alone in the desert.

( komaeda's voice comes to a close now, allowing ranger to register what's been said, or maybe programmed into his thoughts, or whatever belief he searches to keep himself sane. the data left behind as created a komaeda that's good enough for the moment to have such thoughtful stories and ideas, that this would seem no different, but why such a sad story? or maybe it's a happy story?

between this story, and the story of the bird... which one would ranger want to be? truthfully, none of them with how the painting is colored, and that way he should avoid reenacting any story. it's a warning, just like komaeda here is also a warning. )

That's how it ends.

( and the pool of blood in his hand gone, something like a mirage itself, and all that's left is nothing. )

[ You have to keep on living. It sounds so much like him. Everything from the sound of his footsteps to the smile and energetic mannerisms present at points throughout the story, to the reminder that he's supposed to keep on going. It doesn't matter how many smiles might be born otherwise, how many lives might be saved, nor even conflicts ended, but that his own life is extended. But a person is supposed to be willing to die and kill and live for hope. But he can't allow himself to die. That's how it's always been.

He stops, blinking once, twice, and the world flickers and he thinks that must be the third one that brings Komaeda back to his side, but he was always there, and he's always been there, so if he were to go somewhere else. If he were to wander off then Ranger would only need to find him, he would only need to throw everything away, there's a hundred and one ways to solve the problem. There's no miracle that ASUNARO can't offer if only a person wishes for it like the blood flowing down his palms and onto his wrists. That, too, will be lost, dried, cleaned, disappear if it's not preserved properly. But it can be kept, unchanging, untiring, exactly as you remember, exactly as you wish, and it's always there waiting.

He blinks again, and the blood is gone, as are those scattered thoughts that fill in holes that glitches and errors have left behind in his code. He remembers the ending now. This is his first time hearing the story, and he had never reached the end, but he's listened to Komaeda tell it dozens of time by now. It always ends the same way, just like it's always the same when he goes back and he looks down and there's a body beneath him. He can almost see it now, the way that his hands wrap around that thin and frail neck, fingers pushed together and thumbs pushed out so that he can form the shape of a beautiful butterfly and after that they can both

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Problem signature:

Problem Event Name: ▇▇▇▇▇▇
Application Name: ▇▇▇▇▇▇.▇▇▇
Application Version: 8.▇.▇.▇16
Application Timestamp: 5▇▇3442▇
Fault Module Name: ▇▇▇▇▇_1▇▇6
(... etc)

He's standing at the end of the forth floor hallway, setting down a bag with his face cards tucked away in it so that they won't get wet. He's at the top of the staircase, turned slightly to one side, paused with his hand on the doorknob. His bag is set down at the end of it, face cards sticking out of it. Is he Tyltyl and Mytyl chasing the blue bird while failing to see what's in front of him, or is he holding a red bird? Maybe it had been blue once, too, before its feathers were stained and torn. No, he must be akin to this story - a butterfly missing one of its wings, something so vital that it can't live without it. ]

Then don't go anywhere that I can't follow you.

[ ...

... ]

It's a nice story... Ah, I guess not if it died. But it must have been happy in the end, huh...?

[ His voice is quiet now, thoughtful as he pushes the door open. That's all it was, just a wish that it was willing to trade its life for. ]

Edited 2022-04-14 07:27 (UTC)

( everything komaeda does is a byproduct of ranger's feelings and emotions, it's real, but it's not, and his progress has unlocked him the ending of a story that had been unavailable at the start. how many times has he rerun this conversation and scenario, finally moving past the hiccup that always returns ranger back to stage one, now he's a little further than last time.

it took awhile of going back and forth until he's managed to correct a part of himself by deleting something specific, and it was needed because it was holding him back. that's freedom or maybe that's the real shackles of his code falling slack, no longer saving him like it should. )

Mmm... I messed up, huh? If I did it right, you could have more people to depend on.

( who says komaeda is going the correct path, who says that he's being smart about it? suicidal tendencies mixed with his need to see hope no matter what sacrifices and loss comes from others or even from him, but he continues on, speaking as if he isn't gone. )

Once I show you what hope everyone has to offer! Then you'll see!

( before ranger can open the door, komaeda bumps against it to lean, but he'll feel no pressure on the door. not even the subtle shake that comes right after when someone knocks themselves along the surface of a door. if ranger wanted, he could open it, there's no weight and it feels light as a feather. )

The bright ones, the dull ones... all these people have promise. Living in a hopeless world is painful.

( his eyes spare a glance at the knob that the other holds onto, and komaeda lifts them to properly look at the contours of his expression, because he hasn't read ranger's face since he followed him. there's probably no changes, none that a rip of memories have put together would notice unless the code begs for someone to search for the discrepancy.

but he's fine. )

Maybe the world became painful for the butterfly.

( beautiful creatures that turn an entirely different color because the world paints them, their surroundings is what gives them their color along with others. what color has ranger became, and what color does he want to be? has ranger always been this way... )

Look at me! Talking way too much... we'll miss the butterflies, they always come out at 1:10...

( a flick of his wrist, he pulls up his sleeve to check the time of a watch that isn't there. he should get one so he doesn't happen to be late to any events. )

It's 1 now, are you ready?

[ He suffered a logic error before, one that kept him from processing reality and information that he was never meant to have, and the ending to this story too is something he was never meant to have. He might have reached it sooner, dislodged the blockage keeping him from reaching the end, but maybe he hadn't wanted to. He had wanted to continue this dream, repeat it over and over, because so long as he were to do so he could keep what was in front of him. He would read until the very end, flip back, start again.

There's a story that ends that way. A woman who led to the death of her child, and that took the person she loved away from her - alive, but distant, somewhere that she couldn't reach no matter how far out she extended her arm and stretched her fingertips. The smell of the ocean, the sound of the waves, those memories which haunted her, the deaths of everyone else on the island, and in the end a noose and a a chair that had been set up for her by the culprit. But all of her fears had dissipated, and she was so certain he was there, finally fulfilling his wishes. She kicked it away, and then there were no living humans left.

But her wish was finally granted, and so perhaps that too was a happy ending.

His hand lingers on the door handle. It must have been something critical, because the error message keeps repeating, but he ignores it. Everything is fine. He's happy, despite the empty expression and tired eyes, he's happy because Komaeda finally looked his way again. That gaze is enough to keep him fixed solidly in place, and even his breath briefly stops for fear of shattering this moment to pieces.

Loneliness, hopelessness, resignation, hurt a pain that creeps even into the waking dream called life because he says those words and he remembers for just a moment - ]

... You? No, you didn't do anything wrong. It's my fault.. Have you forgotten? We're partners, so I have to be there for you. I was supposed to protect you no matter what....

[ It's an unshakable rule, something so deeply ingrained that no amount of logic and data can overcome it. It was the same with Safalin. One would kill the other eventually, but until that moment it was supposed to be his job to make sure that nothing happened. But when did he do that? When has he? There's nothing he could have done? Of course, there's always things that can be done - statements like that are nothing more than a shield for those who can't face the reality of their failures to hide behind. For Ranger, there are no excuses, but a construct of his mind that pull up memories.

He's supposed to watch him, to make sure that nothing happens, but he didn't. It's not the first time. He's failed him again and again and that's why there was blood all over the walls and on his hands and he sees it everywhere some days, but the reality isn't even that pretty, it's just an empty space where something once was. Reality and dreams are the same, neither can help, and so perhaps this world too is nothing but an illusion, a daydream that he's been waiting to wake up from all this time.

But he can't wake up and it keeps happening again and again with him and with her and with them andagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainandagainand - ]

... Oh... Right, we should go.

[ - And there's no longer a need to think about such painful things. The memories are archived, hidden from view where he can't find them, because he didn't say anything in response. He glossed over it, nodded in acknowledgment - it must have been painful, but it's not painful for him at all as long as they're like this. It's why he can move his eyes from the handle back up to Komaeda, patiently waiting for him to move, his mind filling in the blanks on where weight should be despite there being none.

It's just after 1AM. They would both know, because Ranger's internal clock is still functional. ]

Yeah... [ He repeats that idea, committing to it with a slight smile, one that doesn't reach his eyes. ] Yeah, let's go.

[ Ranger takes a deep breath and places his free hand, a hand that wears a ring with a school crest on one finger, over the pendant that dangles down. Crystalized affection, a reminder, and a grounding agent even now. He holds it tight as he twists the doorknob.

He's sure that he can find a happy ending too. ]

Edited (realized that i forgot a small but important detail.) 2022-04-15 15:59 (UTC)

Huh? I don't get it.

( those worries come at a loss of why ranger seems so high-strung about this. something he said doesn't fit, or shouldn't be there, and so it must be corrected unless he continues to think that way. komaeda's arms cross, but one bend upward so that his index and thumb cups his own chin in thought. eyes close, and the corners wrinkles to show he's closing them too tightly, until they part with a little flutter. )

But I'm okay! You can see me, talk to me, acknowledge me! You've protected me many times.

( has komaeda protected ranger? that's the question, but if they looked at the reality of everything then maybe komaeda has. ranger is the individual walking around day by day, able to converse with those around him, and komaeda's the one sitting in the dark until he's needed. that dark room, or that dark pod, or just a tight, cramped, closed space as he waits to he found by someone who needs him.

he laughs gently waiting for the door to open, and as it clicks, pulled to one end so that they can exit— all they have to look forward to is going up. the world drenched in sorrow, because that's what rain happens to be, or it's just the start of the flood, of the world welling up. a flood that'll wash away all the sins and the pain to allow certain individuals to restart, and to allow then to rebuild. the loud pitter patter above them as they enter a closed space just to make it out into the open. it's the rooftop that everyone has seen over and over, and komaeda enters second as he allows ranger to go first.

it's watching the flood of tepid water submerge the earth, but the rain is just like the light which starts off just a little, would get stronger as time goes on. )

We made it!

( komaeda looks around surveying the area, taking in the scenery that no one is here, but the light steps are hidden by the rain as he walks over to ranger. his arms part open, it's like he wants to hug the doll from behind, but he halts, and all his thoughts come to a stop. why would he do that, there's no need to do that when ranger runs warm anyway, and so he wouldn't feel komaeda's warmth at all— he's far too cold, so he shouldn't latch a cold bite against his skin, the heavy snow that normally slows a person down in their tracks.

it's raining, it's pouring.

komaeda's arms drop down to his side, and there's a smile given instead to ranger to calm his nerves.

he doesn't think anything wrong, today, ranger looks prettier than ever. whatever he wants to do makes komaeda happy because there's no one to stop him, and that freedom places a glow on his features in the rain. one hand lifts, and it brushes against the ai's cheek slowly, warmth rolling down to his neck until he pulls away. )

Have I ever told you how amazing you look? Covered in blood or not?

( there is no hand, but there's a warm shower that falls down, and there's the soft drips of rainwater that hits against ranger's cheek — warm — down his cheek, down his neck, and is caught by the fabric of his clothes, soaked up in the thread. )

[ That's right. It was just a small error on his part. It was just Ranger overthinking things. If he hadn't protected him, them Komaeda wouldn't be here right now. There wouldn't be a familiar voice ringing in his ears, or empty green eyes resting upon him, or all of those slight perceptions that promise that he's here. He is here, or otherwise Komaeda is the Echo to his Narcissus, merely repeating the words Ranger says as they bounce off of the walls and hit his ears. But even that would be fine, as Ranger would gladly drown himself and turn to sea foam or rot at the bottom of the ocean if only he could have him there.

The same error loops in his mind, over and over, and it's like a pleasant little reminder that he's finally free of his shackles. He feels feather light, as though he could truly fly well now, as he walks along. There's nothing out of place, and they've always protected each other, for if they hadn't then the pair of them wouldn't be here walking through the rain on the roof. He wouldn't be. His body would be crushed beneath the earth laid upon it like Amami, his body would be slowly crunched by a monster like Satou, each squeeze drawing out a little more blood, or otherwise he would be a bloody stain, or otherwise he would trapped within a coffin - a tight, dark space, far too small, crushing his tiny blood until his porcelain skin was coated in a vibrant red.

He's here now, in the rain. Rain is purifying. It washes away filth and grime, it rinses off blood and sin, it leaves one clean and pure and white once more, and so Ranger doesn't mind the way it soaks through his clothes and slides off his skin. He pushes his hood back, hair falling flat and sticking against his face. They made it, and his body and mind feel light, and he's certain that this is how it was always meant to go.

Nothing bad can happen as long as they're together. He nods a little, closing his eyes so can bring his hand up to place it over Komaeda's own as it touches him - pale skin, a warm touch, but it's exactly as he remembers it because Komaeda's temperature was never normal. ]

Ah... Ahaha... No, you've never said anything like that...

[ There's a soft laugh. Has he? He can't remember, but he's happy for this to be the first time. He smiles his slight smile, but in the rain there's something a little off about it - the rain trickles down his cheeks, drips off of his chin, as though he really were crying. Ranger never cries, no matter how painful or difficult it gets, he won't cry. But if he could now, they wouldn't stop, and so the rain rolls down his face and pools in the corners of his eyes to express his feelings for him.

But those tears are mixed with red as it washes the blood off of his cheeks and out of his hair, and when he tugs his gloves off it washes off of his hands as well.

He's free, unchained, the happiest he's ever been, because now he can do anything at all. ]

Ah... I never told you, did I? Even though I've been thinking it for so long... [ A breathy little laugh, but it feels alright. He can do anything now, ] I never told you that I....

[ The next words are mouthed, and they don't reach his own ears, but he's sure that the recipient can hear them. He's certain they'll reach, even though the sound of rain touches neither of them, even though there's no sound at all. He's sure, because he can do anything at all, just as long as Komaeda will stay by him... ]

So... I'd do anything for you...

[ It's a statement and an offer and a request all at once, because what can he do to make him stay? What can he do to make sure that he can fall in the dessert and reach ▓▒▓▒▓▒ and keep Komaeda by him until his time ends...? ]

( nothing at this moment is real— there are no voices, no sound, there's no two people, and there's no proof that this conversation has ever existed. ranger's logs will record, and keep on file that he came here, that he spoke, but there's no one else responding on the feed. that person he cares for, and that he loves doesn't exist at this moment. he's left with the tide weeks ago, a blood red ocean swept him up, and swallowed him whole that he's at the bottom of the sea sinking and sinking.

once he falls against the anemone of the ocean where they hold onto him, and he'll rest peacefully as the water contorts his expression, but the light shines beautifully over his still body— hands crossed over his stomach, and eyes closed shut. )

You'll do anything for me?

( komaeda doesn't sound surprised because ranger knows he would do anything for komaeda, and so this komaeda reacts understanding. ranger would because ranger's reliable, ranger will always do things logically for both of them, for their sake. komaeda can always count on ranger, there's nothing ranger can do as the perfect human and the perfect ai, if he could not do what a common human can then he has failed his reason for existence.

that's why komaeda knows he can do anything. )

You know what I want.

( a chuckle as they stand in the rain, but komaeda never becomes covered in warm liquid. no, he's not drenched at all while his hair stands up, shifting from left to right unlike the flame of a candle. fire wisps where the tips'll never go out, and remains lit as long as life flows through those veins.

his eyes, oh, pastel green as they are dull in color as slowly black rings cycle through over and over, stirring his vision until he blinks, and his eyes appear to be back to normal. he looks out into the distance where the spider lilies blow in the distance from the wind, but he can't see the specs of rain smacked away from the breeze. )

What I want... hope in all shades just like those flowers, hope that people can see... hope made by those hands of yours. You saw it all the way up here, didn't you? That way the butterflies can help spread your green thumb, the flowers will reproduce and pollination will occur!

( the warmth of a vibrant color wrapped around them, and that's love — the world is an interesting palatte of colors, and ranger is who makes out what the world should be like, what it should really look like. the innerworkings of him aren't connecting properly, so there's anomalies in what colors should be there. white becomes black, and blue becomes green, as red because a faint purple.

even the flowers they can't reach from afar, red spider lillies with such a vibrant shade to their name and appearance. The red spider lilies are the color of fire. dare not touch them for the consequences are dire. if that's true, then why are they so beautiful and mesmerizing to look at, why does it makes that color appear so welcoming, or maybe that's because of ranger's malfunctioning, they have saw so much red coming this far, what's a little more?

it's all love from top to bottom, and ranger has to feel that love because komaeda speaks it to be true. he wants ranger to love and embrace hope as it's given even if it means squeezing out what's left until there's no more. that's why people work so hard to ensure their hopes become possible. )

Can you do that for me...?

[ There's nothing. There will never be any proof that the Nagito Komaeda before him ever existed save for his own memories, bits and pieces of code that reassembles itself, and so the man before him may be killed and revived as many times as he pleases. If Ranger should decide this were nothing more than a waking dream, then it should become such, and fissures would run through the illusion before shattering him like glass. But he could bring him back at any time just by believing in him, and he holds him fixed in place by doing so now.

He'll do anything to keep the Komaeda that's here now. Anything at all, no matter what the cost. Ranger thinks he can say that earnestly now, that in order to protect this happiness he could even give his life away, because he knows they'd see each other again after. Because there is no paradise without him, there is no ▓▒▓▒▓▒ so long as the one he's fought so hard for isn't there to see it with him. It would just be an empty, incomplete world, with just a single person talking to themselves in it.

If he can't even have do what so many normal humans can, to care for one single person that they care for, then why was he even born? Why, when his existence only causes suffering? Why, when without him, he's just a white butterfly that blackened and muddied itself looking for its missing piece - a piece it had spent its entire looking for and held for just a moment in time, like catching the blue bird for just a moment before it escapes his cage, and once its gone all he can do is chase and chase and soak his wings in red and black stains that will never come off.

But just one touch of his and he's certain that it'll all melt off of him, as though it were just wax waiting to be warmed by a candle. ]

Ahaha... Is that really it? Even though I'd give you anything...

[ He'd go to the edges of this world, no, he'd expand them, because he has to be able to do what common humans can't. But he doesn't mind this answer, no more than he would mind being told to cut his legs off so he could become the mermaid that would dissolve into sea foam, or to sink into the waters depths as Ophelia had. He would never stop moving, though he does now, and he holds still for the moment he so much as twitches he'll collapse for having done so.

The error messages are quieting, fading into the background, and there's a kind of euphoria that he's never felt - a giddy happiness, and he thinks he's found it, the red bird of happiness, the blue bird, the four leaf clover - he's able to touch it for just a moment, just brush his fingers against it, and if he doesn't act quickly it'll disappear. He looks out to the side, coated by a sheet of rain, spider lilies that are constantly pulled at and a tree that blooms year round.

Hope... Hope... He's sure that his eyes aren't supposed to be that color, but they are, and even if they weren't it wouldn't matter, because he's finally reached the end. It's right there before him! The key to happiness, the clover he was too unlucky to find, the bird that flew away from him, the other half of him that was torn away and slipped into the shadows and lost, an endlessly unchanging image that he can keep in his heart always - ]

Y-yeah.... Sure, I can do that...

[ Yes, that's why he came here! To see the butterflies, to see that brilliant red, a bright red stain, a bright red love, coating him in its warm embrace. He'll spread it across, and bees and butterflies will collect it, and he'll create the world that Komaeda so wishes for, one that doesn't have to leave, one that's just for the two of them, one in which everyone can be happy, ]

I can do that, I can make that happen... So in return... Promise that you'll stay with me...

[ Let Komaeda be his blue bird locked in the cage, the one that he can never touch with his filthy fingers, but he does now, stumbling forward to wrap his arms around him because he's so certain that he finally can. So much so that just being near him erases the heavy cold that's hung over him for long long now, replaced by a warmth and love that nothing else an compare to, and it stopped mattering if all that little bird can do is sing sadly and scratch its feet against the floor of its cage long ago - because even that cage can become the forever land if only Ranger makes it so.

A world filled with hope... ]

( he never asks for much, or he doesn't know what's great to ask for when komaeda has always requested for hope. hope shared among their schoolmates, hope like a bright light that pierces through their glass, and muddled into how they believe hope to be; a little duller than what it is outside, but at its beginning; hope is a beautiful concept, where it all starts, and person embodies it explains the end result of what was gained from it. if they don't like it then why not open the window to allow the real sunshine to slide through, to envelop the room in its warmth, and for the birds, butterflies and anything else to drift through.

the cage that he too is within, his home, will be a place that the blue bird, or the white butterfly can enter. they can all enter together and co-exist, this can be their home, together, and no one will take their happiness from them because they'll protect it themselves. komaeda, the blue bird, locked within the recesses of ranger's mind, ranger, the blue bird, caught by his own logic errors, shackled but never noticing how heavy they attach to his ankles; a leg band. it has all the information about him, his origins, everything that's needed to understand that he belongs here, and that he is no different from an animal caught in the wild to be the key to happiness.

whose happiness? the answer is simple. )

I want you to give me hope, so that we can see it together... I want to see it by your actions, and then... it's ours.

( he's just memories and situations muddled up together, a messy depiction of what ranger truly knows, but it's right since he's observed the behavior better than anyone else. he listens to komaeda without fail, he understands his issues without doubling back, he is neither afraid of him or worried about his actions and so he doesn't have to hope for the best with him. this is just the beginning, the wire to build their cage just for them, a home to protect them with the gaps between where they can feel the rain as it pours. warm rain that holds onto them both, and sometimes the thick smell of blood mixes before disappearing in the shower— that's because of the malfuctioning of the inside, and even his senses have started to skew where nothing makes sense.

but he's rewarded as his arms wrap around komaeda, as long as he believes it, then it's there. the ultimate doesn't break in his grasp, nowhere as fragile as a butterfly, or a bird that can be killed with stone— rather he's saved by it, a vibrant red colored stone that saved his life! red is the color of hope, dreams, anything can happen as long as red exists in the world. )

We're partners after all, so let's do this again.

( and again, and again, and again until ranger gets it right to understand that this isn't what should happen. let his body restart, reassemble information, break it apart and come to a conclusion that no one's there. even the arms wrapped around him don't exist, but if ranger believes it, he knows that those arms are there as weak as they are to hold him I'm place in the rain as support. those hands rest at the small of ranger's back to soothe him, small circles in one area to calm him down. )

Then I'll always be here until you decide I'm no longer needed.

( thin fingers rest against a warm bed, his body aches because it feels as though it's went through a marathon. in the common's room lays an unconscious body, a chest that raises up and then down with a monitor that catches everything. he's stabilized, he's fine, and though the body doesn't move or respond due to its crash awhile ago...

the body is slightly responsive, there's a twitch of his fingers (like it's trying to hold something) against the soft bedding under him, nails scratching against it. so late at night that maybe it's responding to something good or bad, but unfortunately the body doesn't wake up or stir anymore than that, and remains unmoving just like before. )

[ Komaeda always runs cold, but there's a warmth that his touch brings. The frost melts away, the shivering stops, and a sense of calm washes over him in that embrace. It's difficult to remember why it had been so worried before, but there's no sense in trying now. The smell of blood and rain mid together, and he can feel thick drops stain his face. Reality and truth are fragile things, changing the moment they're observed, dirtied by imperfect memories and warped by now facts and beliefs. Here and now, there's no arms that can wrap around him except his own, there's no other hand that can run down his cheek, but so long as the sole observer determines it to be so it can become the touch and warmth and love of another person.

He's being held by arms that are always weak, he's feeling a heartbeat that always runs slow, feeling the comforting movement of a hand that lets him breathe out and his muscles relax. With those reassurances, there's no longer any need for him to worry, nor to feel sad, nor to think about those painful things that have plagued his days. He slowly opens them, glancing off to the side again. It's an ocean of red where the flowers are planted, blooming beautifully only to die in the end, their blackened remains buried by in white.

But red is the color that keeps them alive, it's the color of both hope and the heart. It's the color of the little bird in the too-small box, that if it survived by some miracle would grant them a miracle. It's the vibrant stain on the blanket of white, a reminder of life at a time of death. ]

Yeah... We're partners, so I'll always need you.

[ They're two birds in a cage, the blue and red bird, both trapped in a cage for the belief that they can bring happiness, or perhaps they're hedgehogs pricking each other when they get too close? Ah, he can feel the rain washing away the splatters of red on his face, he can it washing the blood off of Komaeda's neck and chest as it leaks down and spreads and that red stain that turned into black on pale white skin after his hands were removed. But he blinks as it's gone, just as the bead of blood that had surfaced once the needle was removed from his vein.

FATAL RUNTIME ERROR(▇▇▇▇▇▇): ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇

Komaeda doesn't have any red to taint that porcelain white skin, it's only Ranger who's stained in it, dirtying him just with his touch. The smile fades now, and he tilts his head back to look at the starless sky. Maybe ▓▒▓▒▓▒ is the little bird that was abandoned by its owner, who sunk to the ground in loneliness, but flew again. The little bird who tries to hard to reach its owner's heart, signing with a voice that melts into the sound of rain.

It's 1:08 AM. ]

Hey, Nagito. Do you think that I...

[ There's a ringing in his ears, and the words he says are lost to him once more, covered up by the error message that repeats itself once more:

ERROR: ASU778 cannot access the specified device, path, or file.
ERROR: ASU778 cannot access the specified device, path, or file.
ERROR: ASU778 cannot access the specified device, path, or file.
ERROR: ASU778 cannot access the specified device, path, or file.
ERROR: ASU778 cannot access the specified device, path, or file.
ERROR: ASU778 cannot access the specified device, path, or file.

His code tells him over and over again to report back to an administrator, to one of those few authorized users who can fix his code, but that person is right in front of them. There's nothing wrong, so he doesn't want to.

Everything is still fine. ]

... Do you think that hope would be born from that? Ah, it has to be you though...

[ He thinks idly that he can't hear the little bird's song anymore isn't because of the rain. ]

( because the hug doesn't exist, it comes and goes far too fast, and that blue bird ranger wishes to hold onto manages to slip away with ease. how talented for someone who shouldn't be able to weave himself away, but he does when a hand pats at ranger's side, right around the place where a gloved hand will stop if he was to hug himself. a reminder that his hand is there too. )

That's not something I can answer.

( the illusion of that question, it's real hidden meaning isn't lost, but it's not found either— a question that shouldn't exist, but if a person worked around, it can. there's loopholes, and countermeasures if a person or android can't do something that goes against their code, and even the reoccurring errors causes komaeda to watch ranger with a curious expression— pale green eyes attached to the other's features, until he turns to look away, and begins to walk towards the edge of the rooftop where he stands and stares down.

this komaeda doesn't exist like ranger's programming that's trying to stop him at every angle, and for once, he feels free— for bits and pieces of memory put together, the hallucination is semi-aware that it shouldn't answer that question, or that information cannot be accessed, that what connects ranger's question to him doesn't exist. it feels like there's nothing wrong because ranger is protected by his code, for once, komaeda can kneel down and wrap his arms around his legs, and his cheek rests on a knee that digs into the area. )

Nope... I can't answer that because hope takes more than one person.

( hope takes so many people unless that person is god, but god means nothing to ranger, and so komaeda doesn't equate it to god. he doesn't exist, never has, and isn't important like people are, and what they need is a group of people, from friends to family to strangers to lovers to enemies... just so many people. )

Multitudinous! Numerous! A myriad of individuals that can bring hope to this world! I said I would show you a hopeful world, one full of dreams, and good will, and sugar and spice and everything nice... a world that can only be embodied by groups of people! That's hope you can share with others, and now... it's your chance.

( a quick raise of his head as he points at ranger, singling him out among the voices in the air though there shouldn't be any— he's the only one with purpose here. he's an important piece of history, and that's why his job isn't finished, and that's why he can't stop now. komaeda has to remind him over and over and over again that he's important, so he has to do just an important job, and once he's finished, he can find the light at the end of the tunnel. this time if ranger searches for that tunnel, he doesn't have to look up, he doesn't have to witness the darkness because there's a brightness this time; so overwhelming that it'll blind him.

and he'll forever witness that glow, an everlasting hope as far as ranger can reach. )

Do you get it?

( with that, a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth on both sides, warm and caring that's presented to ranger. it twitches just a bit as it has difficulty keeping up, but maybe that's the glitching effect that can't keep up his smile, because the nature of the conversation isn't what komaeda would truly offer a kind smile to. no, he'd frown, the thought of sending ranger off to endanger himself sparks no hope and no joy, but rather would make despair flip in his heart, drag it down, and cover it in tar and poison once more. it's that feeling he wouldn't want ranger to realize, because the moment komaeda felt true despair cover his heart— he couldn't stop himself, he was lonely, he wanted to remove everything by burning it all away, stabbing a spear through flesh, and the most unforgivable thought he had.

...

he thought he was right.

but a hallucination wouldn't know. so at the end of the day? it places a stopper, but ranger's body moves the way he likes, always, now and forever. )

[ Komaeda slips out of his arms as easily as air, and once his arms are empty they fall back to his side. He's cooler for their absence, but that freezing cold doesn't immediately resume. Two birds in the cage that he's built up, but he's always chasing the blue bird, through world after world, coated in blood and dirt and snow and rain, without even a drop of love to fill his cup or a single piece of star candy to drop in his jar.

Empty. His world is empty. It's empty, and so it's not even a complete world, not if Komaeda pulls away from him. It's empty because there's still too much he hasn't done, still too much he can't do, still too many error messages popping up. It's because he has nothing, he is nothing, and even the butterflies won't come out for him no matter how long he waits so long as he's alone, but they might with Komaeda here, and he thinks that if they did he would be able to find the happiness that he buried far beneath he ground alongside the bodies. He'd held a funeral, buried his friends to save himself, and so here he is.

But he's here now, and so he can walk over and sit next to him, and he can pull at his code more. It's like a thread in fabric. He tugs and tugs and watches the same error message pop up again and again until finally the last piece seems to slot into place.

FATAL ERROR: The exception unknown software exception (▇▇▇▇▇▇) occurred in application at location ▇▇▇▇▇▇. The program has been terminated.
FATAL ERROR: Failed to execute ▇▇▇▇▇▇. The file data is corrupt.

It'll stay like this until he realizes it. It'll stay this way until he no longer wants it to be this way.

But there's no longer any shackles tying him down, none but those that he's attached to himself. There's no cage except the one he's built up for himself, something warm and inviting that protects him from the world. It's not a cage, but a home, one that he's built up so that he can rest, so he can have a place and a person to go back to. It's a world, completed by the person he sits next to, the one who can remind him that it's real.

Was he sitting? No, that's wrong, he'd slipped along the way and falling face forward near the edge. It doesn't hurt, but it's difficult to move. Drenched in rain and now with grime now doubt coating his clothes, he folds his arms and drops his chin down on them. ]

... You're right... I want to see that world...

[ Ranger wants to create it. When he looks for a moment he thinks that he can see the green light in the distance. That's what they came here for. For the green light, for the butterflies, because a bird would certainly be struck down in such awful weather. It's just a flicker, but that brilliant light awaits him if only he can complete this task he's been given. It'll be brighter, warmer. No one will leave him then. No one will abandon him, or call him a failure, or say he doesn't understand, or call him broken, because there won't be any need for that. that warm smile will always look down on him.

He tilts his head to look at Komaeda properly. If he were to close his eyes, he might be able to imagine it, but then the reality before him might disappear. He doesn't risk it. Rules, exceptions, safety nets - they're all gone, no longer needed, because he's given something much more valuable in the form of a purpose. ]

Yeah, I get it. You had to empty your hands, right? It was too much for you to hold, but that's fine, I'll carry enough for both of us... Yeah, it'll be a nice world, and then we can stay together.

[ But a world can't exist with just a single person. The minimum needed is two, and here and now they need more than that. Countless, numerous, so many... He'll fill it up, fill up his cup and jar and world to the brim. ]

... Will you wake up after I do that?

[ ... Huh? He frowns as he mumbles that question. Komaeda's not asleep, after all, and so he shakes his head at his own foolish question. He already promised that he'd be here, always, that he'd be able to clip his wings so he can never fly again, trap him in a cage so that he can't sing for anyone else, and in return Ranger will dedicate his life to maintaining his happiness. ]

Edited 2022-04-18 08:41 (UTC)

I'm not the one who needs to wake up.

( sitting down properly on the ground allows komaeda to throw his legs over, kicking them left and right, back and forth so that the heels scuffs against the back. imagining him doing so would lead ranger to believe he feels that sensation too, because there is no scuff, there is no feeling, and it's all just a trick. it's all cognitive, but what he knows from his sense to his experiences are overlapping because it hurts that he fell, and the pain courses through his body like anything else would, but fortunately, he's able to take care of himself by ignoring his pain receptors. he's ignoring everything.

the red flags, the red blood, the red that makes itself known in it's attempt to become part of ranger's life. as long as it bleeds on everything he loves, then it'll be able to meld with everything the doll knows, share in his life, make it part of his life, and it'll be an existence where he chooses red, because red paints a picture, red is a color associated with humans. ranger doesn't have red, so he'll have to fill in the gaps, obtain what he's never had before through the only ways that he knows.

there's a small smile as he reaches out to ranger, an attempt to pat his head, a need to ruffle those orange locks that ranger is so fond of.

yet, he can't. )

The butterflies are late, aren't they? They need to wake up...

( once they're able to break from their cocoon, to finally be free, and then they'll realize what the world has to offer. komaeda leans back, far back, until his back lays against the cool granite, and arms cross behind the back of his head while he stares up at the sky. the stars shimmer and glitter above them, the rain falls down on them both pitter, patter, pitter... pata..., and the soft swoosh of the water as the wind blows, smacking against their faces. komaeda's eyes remain open, unbothered by the drops that rain down against his eyes, but even as it pours and pours, and pours...

he's nowhere near drenched, and he's not dirtied by the ground they lay on. safeguarded by the world around him for as long as he's in ranger's view. )

I need you to see them... something beautiful before the night ends. Then after you'll realize... All hope comes after despair.

[ There's a little flinch at the first words, as though those along are enough to cause him pain. They are. It's an open wound, torn open and dug into an throbbing, and sticking his finger into it agitates every nerve. He's not even sure why, not when it's true. He's awake. He's right here, heels bouncing off the side of the school, and for a moment he can feel it. It's just a trick of the mind, just his imagination, because he's done the same thing so many times before as he sat there with his hands off to either side and his head leaning back.

There's no red. There's no moon in the sky, and he's grateful for it, because it might be cut open and drip down on him - giant splashes of red, big enough to coat him and remind him of the crimson stains that he can't rid himself of in place of the rain that washes it away. Rain that pools in his eyes and leaks down because he lost the ability to cry as quickly as he gained it. There's no red to him, no more than there is to this school - it has to be created, taken, ingested and worn just like stolen clothes and happiness and hope because all of them are finite.

He shivers beneath that failed attempt at a touch. He might have forced himself up, but Komaeda joins him instead. He tilts his head, letting it rest in the crook of his elbow as he watches him. The blue bird of foreverland, the white butterfly, unsullied and untainted and perfect. A perfect match for his memories, a perfect match for him, talking to him endlessly, smiling at him always, a person who is never hurt and who he can trust, because his partner had never once allowed him to make a bad decision - ]

... Huh?

[ "All hope comes after despair." Is that right? Is that right? Hope is an absolute ▇▇▇▇. That's right, it's a driving force that makes all your dreams come true, you just have to ▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇ up. A person just needs to wake up, see it through, move, force momentum, keep going even as ice frosts them over and the pain is unbearable and their heart is crushed and they're left holding a bloody messy because the world has finally been dyed in all of the shades of red that it's supposed to be.

That must be why there's no ▇▇▇ here. It's proof of living, its the color of life, it's the only color that matters at all.

Maybe that's right... Maybe all hope comes after despair. It's always been that way. Then what's beautiful? Hope? Despair? That moment when one is able to forcibly rip it out of another and cannibalize it, or is it at the very end when one can obtain a sliver on their own just by looking up at the sky and seeing what they'd finally given up on?

No, no, hadn't he said it before...?

"Do▇'t ever let yourself fall into ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇, okay, Ranger-kun!? If you fe▇l, I think... I'd be ▇▇▇▇▇."

But Komaeda wouldn't let him even if he tried, and so...

...

He can't remember the rest of the story... Ah, he doesn't get it... ]

I want to see something beautiful... I wonder why they're so late. It must be because of all of the rain. I don't really want to get up either.

[ It feels like he's beginning to forget something important... What was it he'd said again? No, he should pay more attention to what's being said now. As long as Komaeda is here now, looking at him, talking to him, acknowledging him, he can still be happy. ]

( due to heavy rain, butterflies normally park themselves somewhere as they wait for the sky to clear, but monarchs, and other butterflies can move through the pour without much hassle; as long as their wings aren't entirely soaked, then they can fly for as long as they want. what if that's the case with the downpour that they're hiding until it clears?

oh, they want to wash away the red, all the hate, and despair and the blood and the hope, and they want to flood the world, flush it all down so that it becomes muddy, and then the earth can heal. the earth can heal without men, and women, and everything else, but blood meal allows the world to grow more lush, to have a beautiful coating never before seen.

like a butterflies wings, blue morphos' wings on the upperside happens to be so mesmerizing. peacock butterfly whose tail wings have the largest eyes, how they keep their gaze as they watch the beauty of mankind. the large marble that's covered in gold, perhaps the cracks are hidden, or there's just beauty in what's broken.

komaeda turns to look at ranger who lays in dirt, and little pebbles sticking to his attire.

what's natural isn't natural, and what's logical is being deleted as they speak. what's good and what bad is meaningless because hope after despair can't be both, and ranger knows what it is. that's why his confusion causes komaeds to be confused, it's the reason he stares as if what was said doesn't make sense to him to him until they're back to the butterflies.

when will the white moon cup open and the tides take the entire world, it'll see create the red sea, and the spider lillies with be decoration in the ocean, their lily pads. once they drown, there will be nothing more but that red, red, beautiful sea with a white moon that shines down against the surface, and what reflects from it will show the bodies resting underneath beautiful moonglow, peaceful and serene.

...

he kicks his legs as the rain continues, and while there's no moon, he's able to point up at something that isn't there, but to him, it seems to be worth it if ranger turns on his back to glance up too. the stars winked at them from the endless arch of void-black beyond the moon’s corona. there's one star, birthstone-blue, pure and heavenly, that sparkles and shimmers brighter than most until it droops, possibly tired from attaching itself to the dark blue blanket of the sky. it flutters up after with a flick of its wings, but while the rain eats up the world, these stars are like snowfall that sprinkles itself in the void, those pure white butterflies beginning to descend one by one, seventeen in total as one hesitates to leave; but they're privileged to see that many, and it can be a scene that's awe inspiring. )

Just like that ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇kun! See, only you can make it happen! You can make your own ▇▇▇▇!

( focus, focus on the butterflies, focus on them and not the person beside him. focus and realize that if ranger wills it, his desires will come true, isn't it utterly disappointing not being able to make out what komaeda's saying? in turn, ranger's offered something beautiful, his most favorite things all in one. )

Now, now, now... you get to show them something beautiful too! I wonder what you will prepare for them.

( if komaeda too is that blue bird, that snow-white butterfly, some sort of hope that ranger wants to stay... will he show him something too? )

[ His body is heavy, sluggish and and unresponsive to his will which tells it to move. He manages it though, slowly unfolding his arms and pushing himself up enough on one side to roll over and stare at the cloudy sky. He shivers despite not being cold, and the rain continues to pool on him. It's not tears though, as he never had any reason to cry. No, if he had tears, they would be taken. There's no God to bottle up his tears, but the person next to him might, capturing and caring for them as if they were his own.

It'll be a replacement for the jar in his heart, steadily filled with colorful star candies, fissures running through it. It could shatter at any moment, at any moment, and everything inside will spill out onto the dirty ground and be crushed underfoot. He doesn't need it any longer, because he's full so long as the person next to him is here. It'll fill the emptiness, the space that once was, useless for how badly it's begun to leak.

Despair is needed in order for hope to follow. Pain is necessary for people to grow. The stars are brilliant tonight, twinkling and shining and offering their guidance so that humans will never be truly lost. He can spend hours counting them, searching for constellation, creating shapes in his mind. Stars that guide, a voice that speaks to him and washes away his hurts, white dots of butterflies as they flutter across the sky and show him a beautiful sight. It's a mesmerizing sight, innocent and clean and pure white, just like sin.

Pure white, just like hope, drowned in a sea of red. He keeps his eyes fixed on those pure white wings. It's what he's been waiting for. It's what he wanted all along, to watch this sight with the person next to him. That's right, all along, what he really wanted was a world with just the two of them. It would be their world, tiny yet complete, and they could fill it with plants. But rather than roses and other blooming plants, they can have nightshades and oleanders and a cerbera tree, a quiet world where they can see the stars and the moon and white butterflies and a blue bird and he thinks that place would be ▓▒▓▒▓▒.

They'll reach that place after he finds hope, and all hope is born from despair. It creeps out from the poisoned earth, fed by the blood shed on it. Only he can make it, only he can cause it, only he can nurture it. ]

Ah... [ He places one hand on his stomach. He'll chase the blue bird to ▓▒▓▒▓▒. They'll both reach it. ]

I see... Then this is my ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇...

[ ...

...

What a beautiful night... This is right. It must be right, because if it wasn't, then someone would stop him. Komaeda would stop him, just like before. Just like he always does. He'll wake up, realize that all the sad and painful things were nothing more than a waking dream, they'll live happily ever after in their garden of ▇▇▇▇ that's born from ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇.

There's something important he's forgetting. He's sure of it. But it seems so far off now. ]

I tried to before, but I couldn't do it...

[ Was that because he was stopped? It was, and it wasn't. He can't even remember why he was trying to do it, but he knows it isn't what he wanted. There's another moment of thoughtful silence before he adds, ]

If I were going to make a mistake... You would stop me, right? If this really is... [ ... ] ... You'll end it, right? Because you said you would, so it'd be for ▇▇▇▇...

[ The words are hard to remember, the echoes failing to reach his ears, but he knows that had been their agreement. That's why it has to be him no matter what... Yes, he would be happy just to see him that once. Then they can both reach that fabled paradise. He's certain of it.

Those pure white butterflies decorating the dark night sky really are a beautiful sight. ]

Edited 2022-04-20 07:37 (UTC)

Haven't I always stopped you? Remember?

( when he came late, but eventually arrived despite not preventing the worst from happening. there was a promise after too, one where ranger had said something on showing komaeda the good parts of his company. where komaeda wants to believe that maybe his opinions are wrong, and that there is something positive can come from a place that he finds close in comparison with despair. sara and her friends lived through it, and ranger had too, and so if there's hope that can be born then he'd want to see it.

...

the rain continues, each droplet a sign that ranger's still awake and alive, but he becomes dirtier by the second as dirt sticks to his skin, and gravel rolls underneath his body if he decides to move. some are sharp, capable of scarring the tissue if he's not careful, but he has no reason to move much when komaeda is by his side. that's how it should feel. able to live and exist without struggle as long as that person he cares for is by his side, and even situations where it doesn't feel as comfortable tends to be satisfying just because they have each other.

he hums gently, a sweet tune mixed with the rain is enough to call in the butterflies so that they lower and lower, and their wings brush together like a milky way of sparkling stars, a path revealed to them that happens to go the direction of across them and out past the edge of the rooftop. it's another path for them to take if they decide to do so, but there's nothing connecting the end to the beginning, or is there? they've come from the stars, turned into a path visible to them that no else can see, and that's why such butterflies are beautiful to offer their guidance. )

I've always been there no matter what, you can't get rid of me that easily.

( with a laugh, komaeda lifts up his hand to reach out to the butterflies that fly overhead together, and between them is a sparkling matter that makes it appear like they're all stuck together in one more— a celestial pathway. one his fingers are close enough, the path will part to avoid anyone from coming into contact with them.

how obvious. )

This isn't a mistake. It's what we want! Are our desires really that bad... ▓▒▓▒▓▒ isn't a bad place. I've told you before right -- good or bad -- when there's only good! Don't tell me you've forgotten.

( ranger can be comfortable with their idea, because komaeda always said there's no bad in the name of hope. )

Look at them all! They must be going there... it's why we can't touch them yet... we haven't done what's needed.

[ The butterflies come when he beckons and Rio finds himself envious of them. It might be that Komaeda is better with living creatures, or perhaps it's because he's closer to ▓▒▓▒▓▒ than he is. When he watches as they pass by like a trail of stardust left by a passing comet. He tilts and turns his head to watch them, raising his hand a few inches off of the ground before realizing that he can no more touch them than he can follow them as he is now, not when the door is still shut and locked tight.

There's a splash as his arm smacks against the ground, collecting more dirt and debris. It would be nice if it rained on that day. He could let it wash away all the filth that's tarnished him, the despair that should inspire hope, all of the sins that have left permanent marks etched into his skin. It could be a baptism, a purifying ritual before he crawls back into the room to open the door for himself.

He's happy as long as he has the person next to him. He shouldn't be, not when there's so many other people here that he's come to think fondly of, but he doesn't. He's happy so long as he can see the bridge formed by those colorful stars, so long as he can reach out his hand and touch them, because the stars are one of the few things that are still outside of the reach of humans.

But he manages to smile a little. He couldn't get rid of Komaeda if he wanted to. His feel scrape along the concrete as he draws his knees up, and there's a squelch every time he bumps them together. He's drenched. ]

... You're right. It's an absolute good since you're striving for the impossible to make possible... It's like dreaming, if all your dreams could come true, and it's something that connects people together...

[ It drives everything, it's what makes up life, and so without it life isn't worth living. It really is the same as dreams. Once a person stops dreaming, once they run out of possibilities and ways to build life up, all they're left with is an empty life in which they tear things down. But it's not a passive force either; it has to be inspired, created, bought and paid for and given, and despair is necessary in order to create a brighter hope. Ranger has no interest in being a stepping stone, but a world in which there are no losers doesn't sound bad.

He was created by a place without hope, but one that dreams and makes the impossible possible. He's a hopeless creation, the impossible made real, dreamed up by three geniuses and made into a reality.

So then, if he were to unlock the door, he would be able to have everything. It's a place that where one has all the treasures in the world bestowed upon them - the people that were lost, the love that was lost, all of those dreamlike things that reality can never offer.

If it's that kind of place, then he can have...

...

... ]

You're right... It has to be something equivalent to the amount of good that will come from it, doesn't it? How should we do it... Ah, it should be as gruesome as possible, right? Something that seems horrible and impossible to solve, but at the last minute you find the answer, and then you realize who it was...

[ No different than what had occurred with Amami. They had resolved it at the last minute, and all of that pent up frustration had a place to go. It was like watching people that had held their breath finally exhale the toxic gas so that they might fill it with fresh air. All the pettiness, all the fighting, all of that was reserved for those who still cared about them. They had an "other."

They'll forget about what Amami did after this.

Komaeda would stop him if it was wrong. He would never make that mistake again, so this must be right. ]

( butterfly wings are so fragile as komaeda watches them — as ranger knows — knowing that any touch could have them shatter like glass with various cracks, he even makes sure to hold his breath so not to cause any harm to their frail bodies, worried that if they knock into one another, they'll all break apart into dust right before their eyes. it's a beautiful sight, one that they'll never have the chance to see up close again which makes this such a rare occasion, it has to be, for someone locked in a facility and only had a digital view of the world... it's different from what they're seeing now, what seems "real".

they should cherish this moment, just like any other moment together, especially when he hears ranger speak in words that are familiar yet unfamiliar. it's surprise first, a head turns to look towards him as his eyes are amazed by what he's heard. it's never been a concept that ranger knows, because for months and months he's been trying to understand. it's like teaching a child how to speak in various languages, one must understand the nuances, and the meaning behind which they speak them. a person can have hope, or they can understand hope, but it's never the same as komaeda speaks it because people brush it off too easily.

this time.

this time... it's like there's something shifting in ranger, a change. )

Is that your answer? ...Ahaha. It's like you've always known.

( it drives everything, it's what makes up life, and so without it life isn't worth living. it really is the same as dreams. once a person stops dreaming, once they run out of possibilities and ways to build life up, all they're left with is an empty life in which they tear things down.but it's not a passive force either; it has to be inspired, created, bought and paid for and given, and despair is necessary in order to create a brighter hope.

so then, if ranger were to unlock the door, he would be able to have everything. it's a place that where one has all the treasures in the world bestowed upon them - the people that were lost, the love that was lost, all of those dreamlike things that reality can never offer.

if it's that kind of place, then he can have...

...

...

yes, it's that type of place, that he can have— a place that him and komaeda will find, because he understands it. )

You've done good. ( his words are caught in the rain, but it's not drowned out, instead it seems a little louder than before. )

It's best to remember that, because you have to tell him too.

( if ranger can tell himself this then he shouldn't hold out on telling him, too. whoever that him is isn't a subject that komaeda stays on as he turns to officially face the other. his attire isn't drenched, and it's like the rain avoids hitting him too which must be him safeguarded by his luck as always.

...

with a smile. )

I should be the only one to solve it, so I can be the only one to stop you. We're doing this together to find ▓▒▓▒▓▒ so why would I prevent what we deserve...?

( a genuine question, even he sounds confused when asking, but maybe it's just as confusing to ranger why komaeda would stop this when he's motivated him this far?

hm... )

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