Basically the Heat Haze from Hibiya's perspective. I wanted to delve a bit deeper into Hibiya's mindset, because watching someone die for so many times is (a) pretty messed up and (b) has to be psychologically damaging.
I'm a huge HibiHiyo shipper (I don't really ship HibiMomo solely because KidoMomo is pretty much my OTP, hehe) so I hope that doesn't offend or turn away anyone...! There's brief mention of Hibiya's crush (AKA obsession) with Hiyori but that's about it though.
Lastly, I only skimmed over this so I apologize for any mistakes!
It's the seventh August 15th in a row and Hibiya knows something is definitely, definitely wrong.
It's not a dream, is it? He wants to believe it – so, so desperately – but he knows.
Hiyori's smiles are a rare sight, but nowadays he finds her smiling more often, laughing at his stupidest jokes, saying some surprisingly sweet things, as if trying to make up for all the times she's mistreated him.
That must be the reason, but to him it only seems like she's taunting him, taunting him with the promise of tomorrow, of a nicer Hiyori and happier days instead of death, constant death and blood and screams of "oh please, no more!"
He takes her everywhere. Calls her the instant he wakes and tells her to stay home. Insists on keeping an eye on her no matter where she goes, because every second she's out of his sight makes his heart race. But either way she dies, so what's even the point?
"Hey, you alright?" Another oddity – she's actually concerned for his wellbeing, even if her expression is still blank and her tone still flat. Despite her best efforts to hide it, however, there is relief shining in her eyes, and he doesn't know why. "You seem…off today. Something happen?"
Well, you've been dying for the past seven days and nobody else realizes it except for me, but other than that I'm all good.
Hibiya understands how crazy he sounds. He can't find it in himself to care.
"I'm good." He says instead, and she stares a moment longer with something skeptical, something doubtful in her eyes before nodding. The fragile look in her eyes hasn't faded.
"Okay then." She says, and he swears he sees her fingers trembling – trembling with what, though? Fear? But then it's gone and she's smiling again, asking him, "So, what are we gonna do today then, Hibiya?"
She dies that time too. Hibiya screams and cries, gasping for breath helplessly, choking, sputtering, but this time, he prays to whatever cruel god is out there, asking why, why, why?
His surroundings dim slowly, and Hibiya's losing consciousness. His eyes grow heavy, but not before he screeches, "Stop it, please stop it, oh god why?"
It's the 32nd August 15th and Hibiya doesn't understand.
No matter what he does, no matter where they go, she dies. She dies, dies, dies, she's dead – but that doesn't matter, because she's never dead for long, now is she?
Hiyori's not looking so good anymore. Her expression is dull, eyes vacant. Her smiles are more forced and she doesn't laugh – not anymore – and he wonders what's worse, witnessing her die over and over again, or helplessly watching her wither away into a hollow shell of the girl she used to be, of the girl he fell in love with.
It's somehow funny, that it's only through countless deaths that they've managed to become closer, form a stronger bond, whatever it is. Hiyori holds his hand, knuckles white as they walk, and if it were any day other than August 15th he would've found it strange, would've blushed like some schoolgirl and sputtered helplessly at the feel of her hand in his, but now he only grips back tighter, finding a strange comfort in the warmth of her palm, of her pulse, in knowing that she's still alive, that he has another chance, another chance to make it right and keep her alive.
And it's tiring. Hibiya's tired, sick and tired of the same, of her screams. They play on constant loop in his ears, even when she's in front of him and making some kind of sarcastic joke, even when she's right beside him, even when she's alive and breathing and well.
He knows she'll die eventually, and it's keeping him from enjoying the little time he has with her. He sees something akin to desperation, insanity tugging at the corner of her eyes, and Hibiya supposes he looks the exact same.
She dies again. Hibiya clutches her still-warm body for whatever time he has left until the world fades to black and promises, promises he will try again and again and again, even if he becomes unrecognizable from the person he used to be in the process.
It's the 79th time and Hibiya finds himself asking, "Why us?"
He does different things. Takes her all the way across town. Even resorts to locking the two of them in a dark, empty room. Doesn't matter. Try again. Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat.
But he sees the same panic in her eyes when he ventures too far from her, or whenever they cross the street. She clutches to his shirt as they walk, quick to yank him back from any danger that might present itself.
But it doesn't matter. She always dies, he always dies – it never matters.
She clings to him almost as desperately as he clings to her, and they live – if you can even call this 'living' – never asking but somehow knowing, sensing. He knows she knows, she knows he knows, but they never speak of it, as if merely mentioning the over and over again occurrences will make it all the more real.
So they dart around the truth; Hiyori tries her hardest to smile still and he does his best to pretend, pretend that nothing is wrong, that today is just a normal day.
'Today' has been going on for far too long, in Hibiya's opinion.
He muffles a sob and this time he doesn't scream, only stares with eyes that burn and tears that mingle with his bloodstained cheeks. Hiyori is smiling, even in death, and Hibiya doesn't have the faintest idea why.
It's the 153rd time and Hibiya is hopelessly broken – the fragments of his being have shattered beyond repair.
He doesn't bother with words anymore. He runs, runs and runs but he's never fast enough and she dies, always dies. And it's all his fault. Every single time.
Hibiya starts contemplating if tomorrow even exists. After all, how can such a brighter future possibly await him, when his reality is so bleak?
"Hi." Her words are empty, but he nods.
"Hey." He says, with no real meaning, but she tries for a half-smile that backfires miserably.
He just wants today to end.
She dies. By now though, he's expecting it.
It's the 389th time, and Hibiya contemplates whether it's really worth it.
Hibiya's become desensitized to it now. He's memorized every pained noise that can come out of her mouth and ingrained it into his brain. When she dies – whether it takes minutes or hours – he doesn't feel a thing. He's cold. Heartless.
He tries to remember Hiyori. Hiyori Asahina is still the girl who laughs at him when he falls but teaches him to properly dress his wounds afterwards so they won't get infected, still the girl who says horrible, nasty things she never means, only because she is too afraid of speaking the truth. She is the snarky little girl with a kinder heart than she'd like to admit and the innocent smile she only shows when she thinks no one is looking.
Hiyori. Hiyori is the girl he loves, right?
He worries that, if this goes on for any longer, he will begin to forget that, forget everything about the girl he is so determined to protect, to keep alive. He fears that he will only be able to see a lifeless corpse, pale skin and blue lips and crimson everywhere, in her hair and on her face and dotting her eyelashes alongside the unshed tears.
His image of her is already beginning to fade, and if he is no longer able to remember why he is trying to save her in the first place, then why even bother?
Insanity is: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
He thinks it's the 762nd, but really, what's the point in keeping track?
He stops trying. Eventually Hibiya wakes up one more time and simply rolls over in bed. He knows when he wakes it will still be August 15th, so he doesn't get out of bed. Why even bother? He stays in his room.
Hiyori calls him once, twice, leaving voicemails that get progressively more anxious. He ignores them.
"Hibiya? Hey, Hibiya, where are you? I thought you said you'd meet me at the park today – it's not like you to ditch me like this, you know…agh, please answer. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? Whatever I did, I'm sorry…hey, Hibiya, I – end of message."
Hibiya is tired. Tired of life. He ponders turning off his phone – just so he doesn't have to hear Hiyori's urgent tone, just so he doesn't feel so guilty, blatantly avoiding her like this – but decides against it. He doesn't have the energy to get up and reach for his phone anyway.
"H – Hibiya, c'mon, you jerk! Answer me! I'm…I'm worried about you, idiot! Call me back!"
He tries. He tries so, so hard, every single time. But it's never enough.
"H…Hibiya…? At least call me back or text me or something and tell me you're okay. I…I can't lose you. C'mon, call me back…call me back –!"
He just wants to save her.
Hibiya reaches this particular version of August 15th with something thick and stuffy in his chest, unfamiliar but unpleasant all the same: he recognizes it as resignation.
"Hibiya…please." Hiyori's voice is strangely desperate in this one, no longer angry and simply afraid, and it's his fault for making her worry. Hibiya's heart clenches painfully. "Please call me back. I…I'll be at your house in just a sec, just wait. A – And when I get there, you better have a good excuse as to why you're not here, a – alright?"
She never shows up. Hibiya sits up in bed just as he starts to see dark spots in his vision, and he knows, knows that she died on her way to see him.
Hibiya spends the next few todays thinking it over. His phone is off now, every single time, as he paces around in his room and thinks.
Surely, that has to be a way to end the cycle…to stop the day from repeating…
He's growing more and more desperate with each passing day.
Hibiya pulls at his hair and moves about restlessly, tries to concentrate, throws things in frustration because it's not fair, life isn't fair.
Life, he decides, life sucks. It is dirt and death, ugliness and sorrow.
'There is no one to help you. How are you going to fix it?'
He has to have an answer to that, buried somewhere deep within him. He's certain of that much. He just can't think of it at the moment.
He knows how to fix it.
The cat jumps from her lap, and Hiyori watches the graceful feline prance away, body swaying almost playfully, teasing them both with a flick of its tail.
Screw you, cat.
Its black fur is stark against the sidewalk, and Hiyori jumps up, eyes unusually bright, laughing as she pursues the cat down the road. "Hey, wait up!"
She turns back once to glance at Hibiya; she's smiling. "Hibiya, c'mon, don't let him get away!"
He follows, hands in his pockets, looking for the truck that will take her life.
"Mr. Cat, don't go!" Hiyori doesn't even falter when the cat hops into the road, trotting away with its head held high before turning around, beckoning for the young girl to follow. Its gaze turns to Hibiya for a brief moment, and perhaps it is a trick of the lighting but the cat looks smug, as if it knows it is leading the poor girl to her death.
Not this time, you damned cat.
Hiyori takes one step into the road, and Hibiya takes off; his feet hit the pavement harshly as he runs. He's never run so hard in his life, but his heart is pounding not from the exertion but from the hope, the hope that this will work.
He grabs her and pulls her back. There is a truck right there and Hibiya has the nerve to smile.
The impact is not as bad as he expects. Something large and powerful slams into his chest, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He hits the asphalt with a distant thud, and Hibiya feels strangely detached from his own body. There is pain, scorching through his veins like wildfire, and he is soaked in something wet, wet and strangely warm.
He hears a dull scream, the choked sob he knows belongs to Hiyori. The cat looms above him with that same smug look on its face and Hibiya feels something akin to suspicion arise at its arrogant, knowing smile. Something smells foul in the air, like salt and rust, blood – and he can hear Hiyori whimpering from afar.
"Not again…" She mutters, and Hibiya's eyes widen.
The cat seems to grin from above him. It knows, he thinks bitterly. It knows everything.
He's slipping away from her grasp, eyes fluttering, pain searing through his limbs, and the revelation hits him like a bag of bricks but it's too late and he's dead –
He failed. The day loops yet again and Hibiya remembers nothing.
There…there is no way to stop the cycle, is there?
Hibiya gives up.
He doesn't know. He just doesn't know. It's August 15th and that's all that matters now.
It feels like years. It probably has been. He lost track somewhere in the 3000s.
"Y'know Hibiya, I kind of hate summer." Hiyori repeats for the millionth time, staring at the sky; there is a trace of something resigned, glassy in her eyes. He wonders how she manages to do it – to be so happy, even if it's just an act. Hibiya nods absently, expression grim.
"Yeah, I do too."