Once There Was Light

In war, luxuries were the first to go. Books certainly fell into that category. Apart from food for a fire, what use was a tome about make-believe cities when your comrades were starving to death around you? Understanding the religious significance behind a country's cherished monuments was useless when those same monuments had long been destroyed. Books were useless. Their fantasies, even more.

. . . Was what dull plebeians would think. Such fools! Those old monuments may no longer exist, but there was still value in knowing why they were valued; it revealed the elements of control his predecessors had used to bring the world under heel. Of course, Togami couldn't be surprised that the common riffraff would understand. They had been nothing before. Why would an apocalypse magically change that?

Ah, but they would come to know their folly. He would need to find another path, perhaps even – as horrid as it sounded – need to find allies, but the name of Togami Byakuya would one day rule them all!

But first he needed to prepare himself. It's not like he was low on free time. He would absorb all the useful information this ravaged library had to offer and plan his takeover from there.

Now if only that infernal panting would cease so he could focus!

Togami snapped his book shut. "If you must spy on me, learn how to breathe silently. Get out here."

The troll obeyed. She came out from behind a bookcase and hopped up to him on all fours. Disgusting.

"Sit. Good. Now, scram." He even had the decency to illustrate with his hand, so that Fukawa wouldn't have to strain that wretched brain.

But the woman didn't obey. Instead, her lecherous grin grew even further.

"Don't tell me that your lack of hygiene has finally caused your ears to rot," Togami scoffed. "I told you to leave."

She shuddered in ecstasy. "I can't. I've been assigned to babysitting duty."

Babysitting? Who on earth did that. . .? No. There was only one person it could be.

A Togami didn't sully themselves with running. They merely walked with haste. Thus, he walked hastily to the area Fukawa pointed at. Good god, had Kirigiri no sense? Letting him roam with only Fukawa to guard him. He could be up to anything such as. . . such as . . .

Such as reading a book. While surrounded by several other books he had perused and since discarded. Togami felt cheated somehow.

"What are you doing?" Togami demanded.

Naegi, sprawled out on the ground so that his neck lay against the nearest bookcase at an awkward angle, peered up at him. "Hi, Togami-kun!"

"I asked you a question."

"Reading?" Naegi held his current book higher, as if asking Togami to confirm that it was a book.

"Since when were you interested in folklore?"

"Actually, I didn't come here to read about mythical creatures. Not at first," Naegi admitted. He kicked his feet. "I was in the animal section earlier, but then one of those books had a reference to something that interested me, so here I am. Say, Togami-kun, have you ever heard of a Mongolian death worm?"

"No."

"They say they live in the Gobi Desert –"

"I don't care."

Naegi shrugged. "That's what I'm reading about."

Fine. If Naegi wanted to waste his time with utter nonsense, that was no concern of his. It was preferable to his usual habits.

"So, you understand," Fukawa started. A string of saliva was attached to her lip. "I can't leave. Not until he's done becoming a walking encyclopedia on worms."

"Then you should stay here. And watch him. Closely."

"Sure, stay with me, Fukawa-san." Naegi said. He flipped to the next page. "I'm not a big reader, so there's a few words I don't recognize. You're an writer, so I'm sure you can explain them to me."

"Y-you're just mocking me," Fukawa said. "You know I write for the masses, and that means my prose has to be simplistic and. . ."

"But I'm sure you have to read a ton of material when you're preparing your novels," Naegi said calmly. "So, you're sure to know more than me."

"Obviously I know more than a kid like you," Fukawa scoffed. "Move over. Show me what you're having trouble with."

After shoving aside part of Naegi's bookfort, Fukawa nestled in right next to him. Togami blinked. Their shoulders were touching. That didn't seem right to him – well, it was for Naegi but not his companion. Togami watched as Naegi pointed out some line in his book and Fukawa nearly hung over his shoulder to see better. It made him uneasy for some reason.

"Fukawa, what was the plan if you sneezed?" Togami asked.

"She's loud," Fukawa said. "Kirigiri said if that happened, you would hear her and take over for us."

That bitch.

He kept an eye on them for a few seconds longer, during which Fukawa began to explain a word that Togami suspected Naegi already knew. Fine. Better they occupy each other's time than his. He returned to his table and the tome waiting upon it and turned his mind away from the two interlopers.

After a minute, he shook his head. What had that page said again? He tucked the book a little closer and focused again. But though he scanned over the words, they didn't register. He clenched his jaw; this time he consciously read it aloud in his mind.

Yet the meaning didn't settle. He slammed his book shut again and grinded his teeth at the infernal noise. . . Which wasn't there. In fact, it was almost silent.

He put his book down once more and rushed – walked hastily to the bookcase Naegi and Fukawa were behind. They looked up at him, a question on their lips.

"Hi, Togami-kun!" Naegi said.

"What are you doing?" he barked.

". . . Reading?" Naegi held up his book again, and then exchanged a glance with Fukawa.

"Oh. Well, keep reading."

For the third time, Togami returned to his table. This time, he adjusted his chair so that he could see the bookcase that Naegi and Fukawa were behind, just in case anything happened. Minutes ticked by, and the only disturbance was the occasional low mumbling that he had to strain to hear.

He tugged at his collar. It peeled off his sweaty skin. This building needed better ventilation.

Kamukura's cabin was one of the nicest places on the island. Well, everything about Hotel Mirai was nice, but Kamukura's place was nicer. He knew how to clean. The wood logs of his walls glistened as if they had been freshly varnished and while the gardens elsewhere in the island were riddled with weeds, his was neatly trimmed. Though in her opinion, it made the overall lawn look worse, because now there was a perfectly cut square in the middle of what was otherwise an overgrown wilderness.

However, while Kamukura had the nicest place, it was always so lonely. In Komaru's opinion, his cabin was too big for someone to live in by themselves. Plus, Kamukura barely used it! She'd been inside and so, she knew that it had an awesome fireplace that Kamukura never used. And he absolutely refused to throw house parties even though it had a giant room that was designed for it.

The saddest thing was that Kamukura's place wasn't lonely because he didn't let anyone visit; it was because nobody ever wanted to visit him. That wasn't shocking: Kamukura was tall, quiet, and had those blazing red eyes which were totally not a normal colour no matter how much everyone insisted it was. Only her brother was dumb brave enough to waltz into his bedroom without a good reason for being there. In fact, if she thought about it, Komaru might be one of a handful of people who had ever visited this place.

She knocked again to no answer. Maybe he was too bored to answer? Honestly, based on how her brother had described Kamukura sometimes, she could picture that. So, she pushed the front door open herself and walked inside.

The hallway was dark, but there was a light coming from an adjoining room. She didn't hear anyone inside, but she didn't think Kamukura was the type to waste electricity either.

And he was home, in the room he had claimed as his bedroom. He laid in bed, not below the blankets but on top of them like a weirdo. Her brother seemed to do that more often too, now. Maybe this was who he learned it from.

"Kamukura-kun!" She bowed. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

He looked at her. Then looked away and sighed.

She scowled. "That was rude."

Kamukura sighed obnoxiously loud.

Well, he hadn't explicitly told her to leave, so that was basically permission to stay. She scooted over to the waist-high bed, and leaned over him so that she could peer into his blank face. Was he tired? His red eyes seemed dull.

"Can we talk? It's about my brother."

"Him, again? Ah, but of course. His talent combined with that naïve, innocent personality is designed to draw attention." Kamukura rolled away from her. "So easily seen through. So boring."

"Didn't my brother teach you manners?" she snapped. "It's rude to call people boring."

"What use is a lie but to gain an advantage over another or promote an illusion? I have no need for such tactics. I am already superior. Tricks are redundant, especially when dealing with someone as replaceable as you."

"You're as bad as Togami-kun." She poked him hard in the shoulder, because he still wasn't looking at her and somebody had to teach this guy manners. "Kirigiri-san already told us you don't know how to fix Makoto, but you have to know something we can do to help."

"What for?" He rolled back partway so that he laid on his back. "Hope, despair, what does it matter? Choosing one will not save him from the other. He will be susceptible to the whims of his heart regardless. There is no escape, thus what point is there to trying?"

"That's. . . That's not what you said before!" She grabbed him, tried to roll the rest of the way over so that he would look at her. "You said we could help him. You promised!"

"I never promised such things."

"Yes, you did! That's why we're here. You said it was to help everyone get better." She raised a foot to kick him, but then decided the bed was too high off the ground.

Something shifted in Kamukura's face; his lips quirked. "A fool's promise. Hinata always was a fool."

"Who?"

"No one of consequence."

"Then why did you mention him?"

"Because there is something to be learned," Kamukura said. "Hinata was a fool. Thrice, he followed his hope into the future, and thrice they led him to despair. They are inseparable. A bleeding heart like his – like yours – lives in denial. You follow your dreams blindly down a road that only leads to the beginning. The cycle never ends. Ah, that was too complicated for you. Allow me to summarize: Hope is despair."

Kamukura was looking at her and she found herself regretting her efforts to make sure he did. His pupils had a strange tendency to bleed into his irises, so that they appeared vampire-like. If she had seen fangs then and there, she would have run out screaming.

"What you said doesn't make any sense," she said. "Hope and despair are complete opposites. Like my brother! He's nothing like Enoshima."

"If that were true, then you wouldn't have come to me."

"That's stupid!" she barked. "I'm here because he's not himself! This isn't who he is, and you know it."

"He would say the same thing about me," Kamukura said. "I expected too much of him. . . No, he gave me exactly what I expected. Both thought the same about me. They clung to their hope blindly and willingly let it destroy them."

"I don't understand."

"It's simple. In the end, despair is only an emotion. It is a concept. It exists only in the minds of those who allow such things to find a foothold. Naegi Komaru, do you understand why I am a superior being?"

"Because they stuffed all those talents in you."

"No. That isn't enough." He sat up slowly, like a corpse rising from the dead. "That was one step of two. If it were the only step, then Enoshima and I would be the same. She wouldn't have been bested by a faceless nobody. The second step was to rid myself of the onus of emotion. That is the secret."

"What's the point of being alive if you can't enjoy it?"

"I look at you all," Kamukura said, "and I see misery. What would be the point of embracing emotion when it will inevitably wreck you? No matter how blessed the life, you all despair in the end. Hinata learnt that. Naegi is learning. And now, so are you."

The scariest thing about talking to Kamukura was the absolute conviction with which he said everything. Every word dropped into her stomach like a stone and it was impossible to tune him out. If Enoshima was like that, then she finally understood how people went crazy just by listening to her.

"I'll never give up on my brother," she said.

"Because you are a fool," he said. "You will never be the Ultimate Hope, no matter how much he tries."

Kamukura said that like an insult, yet it was perfectly fine with her. If this was what being the Ultimate Hope entailed – her brother's despair-crazed state or just being a dick like Kamukura – she was happy to leave it to them.

"Fine. I'll do this without you."

And in that moment, after he had absorbed her words, Kamukura did the scariest thing he possibly could:

He laughed.

"The time for that has passed. You failed," he said. Before she could point out that she hadn't tried anything so she couldn't have failed yet, he continued. "He is in a plane beyond you. He won't learn. You can be as normal and plain around him as you want, but nothing will stick. This was inevitable."

Something pulsed in the depths of his eyes, so that they seemed to be swirling somehow. But it was gone before she could understand, hidden behind eyelids as Kamukura scoffed and closed them.

"Go ahead," Kamukura said. "Try. And fail."

"Huh? You being serious right now?"

Nidai's answer to that demand was to laugh, and then immediately break up that peaceful scene by slamming a massive fist atop the nightstand. It rattled dangerously, threatening to toss off the half-empty glass of water Tsumiki had placed there not a minute before. However, said nurse was the only one who voiced any concern. The other occupants of the room, Nidai and Owari, were too busy glaring into each other's eyes to pay mind to such trivial things.

"There's no way you can win," Nidai declared, and how could anyone doubt him? Even ignoring his broad frame and thick layer of muscle, the person he was challenging was laying in a hospital bed.

Owari growled. "Bold last words, Coach. Just wait until I get started."

Nidai grinned. He shot to his feet in an instant. "It can't be helped. I won't back down!"

"Then let's get ready."

And as one, the two shouted, "Time for an eating contest!"

As their shout tapered off, another one rose. "NO! No eating contests. I w-won't allow it!"

"You can't stop it. You gotta let athletes do their thing." Nidai looped his arm around Tsumiki's shoulder as he spoke, which gave him the leverage he needed to pull Tsumiki to somewhere more private. "Hey, relax. It's eating, The thing we've been trying to get her to do for a year."

"Not like this!" Tsumiki cried. "Eating contests are unhealthy for everyone. They stress your organs and people go too far . . ."

"Don't worry. We're trained for this."

"Trained? Neither of you are. . . Wait! Stop!"

Nidai rushed out of the room for the nearest supply of food, taking a hapless Tsumiki with him as she clung to his leg in protest. Nidai burst through the hospital doors with Tsumiki still attached, and that was the scene that greeted Nevermind when she was halfway up the path.

"Oh, dear." She sighed. She had come here in search of medication for her headaches, but it hadn't occurred to her that she might encounter something that worsened it instead. Still, there was room to hope. Although the medical supplies had been stripped bare when they first landed, Kamukura had somehow recovered a stock of basic medication that were now being kept in the hospital. Although where he had gotten them from. . .

What did it matter though, so long as it was there for her use? Right now, they were kept behind a locked glass cabinet in the front office. It may not seem like great security, but it was enough. One would have to shatter the glass if they wanted to steal some and because of Owari, Tsumiki was constantly in the hospital. Diligent to her core, Tsumiki would notice immediately if such a thing had happened.

Still, it was odd that when Nevermind went to Kamukura to retrieve the key, he had told her to take it without any questions. As far as she could tell, she wasn't being watched either. Well, she had truly intended to only grab some headache medication. Kamukura must have sensed that.

Inside the hospital lobby, Nevermind popped a couple of pills and swallowed them dry. That should be enough. Her head seemed to throb more and more frequently now, but she found the ache could usually be warded off. She put the bottle back, locked the door, and headed out the hospital doors.

There was someone outside. Not the tussling pair of Nidai and Tsumiki who were long gone, but a familiar figure with bleached, dry hair that looked like straw in the light. Komaeda's hoodie hung off his frame. He had always been skinny but to Nevermind's untrained eye, he appeared to have lost weight.

"Were you visiting Owari-san?" Komaeda asked. He spoke in a way that suggested he had been waiting for her, although she was certain that was not the case.

"No. I had a headache."

She let silence fill the gap as she looked away in disinterest. It was a tactic that usually succeeded in signaling an end to a conversation, but Komaeda wasn't one to follow social norms. He continued to stare at her, waiting.

"Are you going inside?" Nevermind asked. She stepped aside to make room.

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere in particular," Komaeda said. "What place would there be for me to go?"

That was passive-aggressive. She knew that tone well from politics. But she couldn't figure out what there was for him to be passive-aggressive about. That was Komaeda though: strange and unfathomable with sudden outbursts of insanity.

"Was there something you wished to discuss?" she asked.

"How perceptive! But of course, an Ultimate like you would see through the petty desires of trash like me. I did have a question."

"I see. Then proceed."

"Are Ultimate titles immutable?" Komaeda asked. He tilted his head to one side in a way that was eerily, and grossly, reminiscent of Nanami. "I'm sure you remember how Kuzuryu-kun used to say his sister would make a better Yakuza leader than he would. If he had decided to abdicate, would his Ultimate title pass to her or remain with him?"

"He would still be part of the Yakuza, would he not?"

"Of course I would miss a detail as obvious as that. But what if he left completely? Say, he and Pekoyama-san decided to elope on a ship somewhere."

"I don't know. I'm not familiar with the customs of your country regarding Ultimate titles."

The way his gaze swept over her made her uncomfortable. Then again, Komaeda usually did.

He said, "How curious. I thought you of all people would have checked that out. You're the only one it's directly applicable to."

Her lungs tightened. She hadn't known they could do that. Komaeda stood before her like a jackal waiting for its prey to panic and bolt.

"Your reign is over," Komaeda said. "Everyone knows that, except maybe you. Honestly, considering everything you've done, I'll be surprised if your country survives the upheaval. There's bound to be tons of people hungry for revenge."

"Far greater men than you have threatened me," Nevermind said.

"Threat?" His eyes widened in what would seem like genuine dismay, if it weren't for the way his tone didn't change at all. "Trash like me wouldn't dream of overstepping his bounds like that. Although. . . Does the value of a has-been Ultimate still hold any value?"

Keep calm. Stay composed. That was how you won a war of words. And how to best infuriate her opponents.

"Komaeda-kun, I don't have time to fight with you today." She sighed as she spoke, feigning boredom. "Please, I must take my leave."

But Komaeda didn't move. "Fight? We're not fighting. I just thought I'd give you a hand."

She glanced at her biological hand.

"Not like that. I wanted to do you a favour and pop the bubble," Komaeda clarified. "From one Despair to another, impossible hope really is the worst kind. Remember what it did to Naegi!"

She took a step back. "I. . . don't understand."

". . . Already? It only took this long for you to devolve to the level of an ordinary person." Komaeda shook his head in shame. "I really am disappointed. How much money did you pay them to give you that title?"

She knew this tactic: the art of making piercing statements while masking them in a form of a question. Though with Komaeda, it was usually difficult to tell whether he genuinely meant the question. Not this time though. She was certain of the intention this time.

"The royal family of Novoselic has no need for bribes."

"Present tense. You still don't get it. Still chasing after that light at the end of the tunnel. . ." Komaeda murmured, as if reliving a memory. "You're never going back."

"When did you become the Ultimate Clairvoyant?" she said and immediately regretted it. She couldn't let him get to her that easily.

"We all know you have been listening to that radio under your pillow," Komaeda said. "Believe it or not, but even someone as plain as me can guess how many of them are calling for your return: none. They don't care about you."

"Enough!" Her arm swiped through the air.

"Does it hurt knowing you're as pathetic as me?" Komaeda spat. "Nobody wants you. The sooner you understand that, the better."

She knew despair well. Yet this choking feeling, this sludge into which she slowly descended, it was different. Ancient. Something she hadn't felt for a very long time, not since three years ago when –

"Is this another one of your plans?" she demanded. "Is it my hope you seek?"

"Hope? No. No! This isn't like that! Creating despair to sow hope. . . it was a delusion only something as pathetic as me could dream up." Komaeda said that with fervor, with a heat she had never before seen on him. "What would be the point? Hope is just as bad as despair. No, it's even worse because nobody realizes it!"

"Then leave me be," she said, lapsing back into her voice of authority once more. "This conversation is finished."

She tried to walk away, but Komaeda stepped in her path.

"No, it isn't. I'm not done," Komaeda said.

"Get out of my way."

He twitched, as if about to obey. Then he stilled again. His eyes bore into her, not just with anger, but with the weight of someone who had just realized he had the upper hand.

". . . No," he whispered. "I don't have to."

As subtly as she could, she pushed up her sleeve. If Komaeda truly meant to force this, if he wouldn't see reason. . . Novoselic was renowned for its military prowess, and that came with an automatic pass for self-defence lessons!

But someone beat her to it. Nobody noticed that Koizumi had seen them, let alone that she was approaching. The first clue they got to her appearance was her sudden hand on Komaeda's shoulder, and then the loud crack as she yanked him towards her and delivered a full-handed slap.

"I can't believe this. You men really are all the same!" Koizumi said, hands on her hip. "Do you always harass women?"

Rubbing his red cheek, Komaeda tried to speak. But Koizumi spoke over him.

"Honestly, get out of here!" she said. She flicked her hand at him in a way that either could have been a gesture to shoo, or an attempt to hit him again. "Go bug somebody that's your own gender."

Properly scolded, Komaeda slunk away.

"I swear he gets weirder every day," Koizumi huffed. "Are you okay?"

"How much did you overhear?" Nevermind asked.

Koizumi didn't say anything.

"He's right, isn't he?" Nevermind said. "They . . . It's ended."

". . . Come on. Let's go somewhere nicer," Koizumi offered. With no reason to refuse, Nevermind followed her.

Review Response:

Ger0nim0: Gotta happen sometimes, but glad you liked it!