They sit in a comfortable silence as the roll of the ocean's tide licks up the sandy shoreline, leaving the heady scent of salt and a thin coat of white foam behind when it curls back in on itself only to repeat the cycle mere moments later. Something about it feels hypnotic, and Hajime finds his eyes following each precise movement as the late afternoon sun begins to cast the scene around them in a dreamy golden glow.
Despite the nightmarish scenario they've found themselves in, he feels inexplicably safe in this moment with Chiaki sitting next to him, her knees pulled into her chest as her finger traces meaningless patterns in the sand beside her. Experiencing this island with her has been nothing short of enlightening, he's found. She sees everything through such a unique lens…one that's innocent and optimistic and unlike the way that Hajime is sure he's ever looked at anything in his life. It's all new to him, and something about it makes him feel as if maybe there really is a path off this island and back to Hope's Peak. If they just work together and believe in each other...maybe—
"Where should we go tomorrow?" Chiaki asks seemingly out of the blue, and the sound of her voice manages to pull him out of what he knows are likely nothing more than overly optimistic pipe dreams. He glances over to see that she's begun to dig her knuckles deep enough into the sand to reveal the darker, damper grains beneath the sunbaked top layer as she speaks. "Maybe we can go to the ranch again, if that's okay with you."
Hajime turns his eyes away from the ocean to offer her a quizzical gaze. "I didn't think you liked that."
"Well…I wasn't sure about it at first," she admits, "but once we were there it was pretty interesting, I think. I never realized that cows are soft like that." She pauses, removing her hands from the sand in order to wrap her arms around her knees and pull them in closer to herself. "You knew though, right?"
"Yeah…I did."
When she giggles, he wonders for a split second if she's laughing at him before he turns his head to see that her eyes are lit up, and her lips are turned into a genuine smile.
"You really do know so many things, Hajime."
If she thinks that knowing that cows are soft to the touch qualifies as knowing "so many things," she must have set a pretty low bar for him, he figures…though he supposes he can't really blame her for not expecting much out of the guy who can't even remember his own talent.
"I really don't," he admits in a half-mumble that he isn't even sure he wants her to hear. "Besides, you know pretty much everything there is to know about video games."
"Maybe…" She says it as if it isn't an absolute fact. "But I think I'd like to be a little more well-rounded. Like you."
Something about her saying that so plainly makes his heartbeat speed up for reasons he's not sure he understands. Why would anyone want to be more like him? Especially someone like Chiaki? She's smart and talented and kind, and when he feels the pads of her fingertips come to rest against his forearm, he worries for a moment that his already racing heart is going to beat completely out of his chest.
"You're warm," Chiaki comments with a lilt of fascination behind her characteristically quiet tone. He's sure the blood rushing to the surface of his skin in response is only serving to make him warmer anyway. "Like the cow…but different. Not as soft."
Well that's because I'm a person and not a cow.
The words are as clear as the ocean in front of them in his mind's eye, but he can't seem to move his mouth in the right fashion to speak them aloud.
"Yeah," is what he manages instead. He swallows the dryness in his throat, somehow unable to stop himself from beginning to ramble. "If you want to learn more about things outside of video games, we should go to some sort of museum once we're off the island. I think you'd like it."
Something that almost looks like wistfulness passes over her features for such a brief second that he wonders if he only imagined it, and she removes her fingers from his arm with a smile that doesn't seem to reach her eyes.
"That sounds nice," she says, though something about that look in her eyes is telling a different story. Maybe he overstepped, he thinks. Maybe she's not planning on spending any more time with him at all once they get back to their normal lives and she's surrounded by people who don't sweat and stammer over something as simple as her fingers on their arm. He parts his lips in preparation to apologize for making assumptions about what things will be like once they're finally free from the shackles of this island, but she is speaking again before he gets the opportunity. "I've never watched the sunset before. It's beautiful."
The sun has finally begun to dip beneath the horizon, he realizes after she speaks. He's been so caught up in spending time with her that the time must have passed more quickly than he'd realized.
And she was right: the sunset was particularly beautiful that day. It was a warm fire burning against the crystalline ocean waves, causing the rolling tide to shimmer and wink in its gentle light like diamonds were scattered across its surface. It has been difficult to find any respite since the beginning of this twisted killing game, but — in this moment — Hajime almost manages to forget about the atrocities behind him, and all of the uncertainty that the future holds. And he finds that there is no one he would rather be sharing this brief moment of peace with than Chiaki, who still sits next to him, basking in the amber glow of the day's end. She has that far away look in her eyes again, but only for a brief moment before she looks at him with a gentle smile to complement the softness in her tone.
"We should probably head back before it gets dark," she says.
"Yeah…probably."
Neither of them can bring themselves to say it aloud, but they both know that wandering the island after dark isn't a great idea.
Not that I don't trust our friends, Hajime thinks. But an almost sick feeling settles in the pit of his stomach when something in the back of his mind reminds him that maybe he really doesn't. Not after what happened to Byakuya and Mahiru.
He wants to go home so badly it hurts to think about for too long. Home…where he isn't trapped and constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure that no one has gotten desperate enough to kill him while his back is turned.
He knows there's no point in lamenting their misfortune, however, so he simply stands and brushes the grains of sand clinging to him from the fabric of his pants. Chiaki stretches her arms towards the setting sun with a quiet yawn before adjusting the straps of her backpack against her shoulders and starting towards the beach's exit, and they have only traveled a few steps by the time Hajime can feel another delicate touch against his skin. A touch…and then the feeling of soft fingers grasping his otherwise empty hand. His pulse roars in his ears, though he finds that he's at least gotten over how embarrassed he knows he should be by how quickly his heart races in response to such a small gesture, and he can barely bring his eyes to glance over to her when he hears her hum contemplatively next to him.
"Yep. Still warm," she confirms, and when he can finally bring himself to look at her — first at their intertwined hands, and then to her soft gaze — she laughs so quietly he wonders if he imagined it. "Maybe not like the cow though. More like...a summer night, I think."
When he breaths out his own laugh in response, it's painfully awkward in comparison, though she doesn't seem to notice as she turns her attention back towards the path in front of them, and they walk back towards their cottages hand-in-hand.
Hajime isn't sure what happens now...where they go from here or if it's even okay to feel however it is he's feeling in the midst of such a terrible situation. But, for now, all he can do is exist in this moment, with their fingers intertwined and a comfortable silence lingering between them as the warmth of the evening wraps around them enough for him to almost relax for the first time since this nightmare began.