Future Foundation finds them after two months.

Two months of living in the ruins. Two months of constant hunger, that kind of it that doesn't kill and doesn't hurt, but it's always there, a traitorous companion. Two whole months of getting wounded over and over again, of stitches, and biting on a filthy cloth to muffle their wails, and bright pain. Of nightmares. Of creeping despair. And then — there's a helicopter, full of healthy men in fancy suits, without a hair out of place, who nod and wince, and offer their help and carry some of them out of their hideout.

They wake up in the hospital; raw, sore and distant kids. Naegi doesn't smile at all, nor does Asahina. Kirigiri refuses to speak, just shakes her head and stares at her scarred palms. (They took away her gloves, bloodied, torn, familiar, and she doesn't want any new ones). Hagakure does smile from time to time, but his voice trembles a lot, his eyes are wild and untrusting. Togami is quiet, so quiet it's terrifying, but every night he wakes up screaming endlessly, wordlessly. And Fukawa— no one knows where she is, where they took her, they only were told that she's alive. That's good, Naegi mutters, that's very good, and Asahina adds, don't trust them, though. Naegi nods. Says, you guys are the only ones I can trust.

Healing takes not that long — at least when physical wounds are concerned. There are scars left, lots and lots of them, and Hagakure laughs quietly about how ugly they are. He doesn't say if he meant injuries or them, the survivors, the lost children with hollow cheeks and shared fear of going outside. But they don't have to leave, the physician tells them, no, it would be unwise. And then he tells them, anyway, you need to stay here for at least three months, to rest, to handle your traumas. Psych ward, you mean, Asahina hisses out. Kirigiri raises her hand and frowns. I think it's a superb idea, she murmurs, and they all stare at her. It's been so long since they heard her voice. So they all agree.

During their stay, higher-ups send them info about their families. The picture of Komaru crumbles in Naegi's shaking hand as he breathes rapidly, trying not to cry, trying not to worry anyone, thinking he can fool them. (He can't, Asahina says to Togami and touches his wrist. And neither can you, she adds softly). Kirigiri is too cognizant, and she grieves openly, sobs tearing out of her throat. Togami jokes, now I'm the Togami, the only one, and then he also starts sobbing. Asahina screams. Hagakure repeats one word, Mom Mom Mom, until his voice is cracking like a dry leaf.

After few days, they get medications. Asahina laughs, then weeps and everyone thinks about Sakura. I'd like to go out for drinks, rather than poison myself with this shit, Kirigiri says nonchalantly and Togami nods. They are closer now, to tell the truth, old animosities long are forgotten— no, that's not true. They have outgrown them, and not only those two. Kirigiri teaches Asahina French, while Togami and Hagakure discuss world history. Or— all of them (that's not the true, too, they lack one person) singing stupid pop songs, or talking about the meaning of life and so-so, all cuddled together, limbs tangled and hair sticking out in all directions, bodies like roots of a dying tree. They only get out of their, former Naegi's, room for appointments with doctors. They never leave each other's arms during the nights, just huddle in familiar warmth, even if Togami's pointy elbows dig into Asahina's stomach, or Kirigiri almost suffocates in Hagakure's hair. The first time it happens, Naegi laughs so loud he almost starts to cry. Kirigiri just shoots him a dirty look and mutters, fuck the fuck off, you assfucking eff. It's amazing, really, how much swears she can utter in one breath, or how many card tricks does Hagakure know, or how often Asahina can whine about lousy donuts served in the cafeteria, or how terribly can Togami sing. Or how much Naegi can despair. Amazing, isn't it.

One day, an unknown man appears in their room, old and suited and with most observant eyes they've ever seen, and asks, do you want to help our case. Togami laughs at that, why, a former headmaster of HPA and current leader of Future Foundation itself, lowering himself to their level, and Naegi can't help but whisper to Kirigiri, since when Togami thinks so lowly of himself, and she says, since always.

They agree to Tengan-san's terms anyway. It's not like they can stay there together for their entire lives, no matter how much do they want it.