When Hinata Hajime blinks his bleary eyes open, there is a girl sat next to him. He knows that the two of them are roughly the same age, although he does not know what his age is, and he knows from the curl of her lips and the spark in her eyes that she is happy to see him. She's pressing something cold to his forehead. It's probably to stop the bleeding from the huge gash on his head.

Oh. There's a gash in his head. That's new. He has a very strong feeling that it's not meant to be there.

"Hinata-kun!" the girl cries, throwing her arms around him and then pulling back, smiling regretfully when she drops the cold flannel she was treating his wound with. She picks it back up and pushes it back against his head. "You're awake."

"I..." Hinata has no idea who this girl is. "I'm sorry but-"

Another voice, male this time, calls out, "Hinata-kun!" in relief. Hinata moves his weary gaze from the girl sat beside him to the boy pacing somewhat in front of him, who kneels down in front of him. "How are you feeling?" he asks, beaming.

"I'm sorry," Hinata begins again, "but I have no idea who any of you are."

The girl's soft, pink eyes instantly widen. "Tsumiki-san!" she says, loudly, panicked. "He doesn't remember who we are."

A third person presents herself by stating, "I t-told you sometimes people g-g-get a little forgetful when they take a knock to the h-head," and crouching down beside Hinata, opposite the first girl. She reaches out and places her hand softly on his cheek, turning his wound towards her and away from the other girl, who let her flannel drop to her side, dejected. "Especially when they've received a knock as impressive as Hinata-san's was."

The boy, perhaps sensing the tense atmosphere, stood up. "I'll go let Mioda-san know Hinata-kun's awake," he tells them, still smiling. "She'll probably be done with her exploration of the building by now."

"I hope," the third girl begins as she brushes Hinata's wound with an antiseptic wipe that leaves it stinging, "that she hasn't run into any t-t-trouble."

"I'm sure she's fine," the first girl says, a little sharp and harshly.

"Well, we'll find out now, won't we?" The boy shrugs and offers them both a wave before heading out. Hinata's head still hurts, and the room starts to spin slightly. He feels a reassuring squeeze on his hand. The first girl is holding it.

The second girl has finished with the antiseptic wipes now, and has reached into what looks like a small school bag to pull out several bandages. She begins to wrap them around his wound, getting awfully close and almost shoving Hinata's face into her cleavage. The grip on his hand tightens.

As she wraps the bandages, she whispers, "You r-r-really don't remember me, Hinata-san?"

"No, sorry," he states, bluntly.

She smiles sadly. "I'm Tsumiki Mikan," she informs him. "We used t-t-o date."

Hinata knows there's something familiar about this girl but he cannot remember anything, even though he feels like he should. "That doesn't bring back anything," he tells her.

"I didn't think it would." Tsumiki pulls away, his head dressed. "There." She leans forwards again and kisses slightly above his wound. "All better."

There's a tug at his hand, and he jerks his head back to the first girl. She's wearing what looks like a bloodstained hoodie that's a little too big for her, and carrying a tattered pink backpack. Her hair is soft and light, a sort of strawberry blonde colour that looks pink in certain lights. He knows that it looks especially pink in the light of his dorm room and that its silky and perfect to touch, like running your hands through the taste of chocolate. He doesn't know how he knows it, especially since now her hair is knotted and clogged with dirt and God only knows what else.

"I'm Nanami Chiaki," she whispers, her voice soft and raspy, "if you've forgotten that, as well."

"Yeah," Hinata laughs awkwardly. "I kind of did. Sorry."

Nanami opens her mouth, and is about to say something else, but the following sound does not come from her. It's a loud, high-pitched squeal, which proceeds a shrill shriek of, "Hajime-chan! You're alive!"

Nanami pushes herself up, and then extends a hand to Hinata, which he willingly takes. Still slightly dizzy, he allows her to do most of the work in getting him to stand on his feet, before a huge force collides with him, yelling, "Ibuki thought she'd never see you again!" as it does.

"M-Mioda-san," Tsumiki begins, cautiously, "it would p-p-probably be best i-if you didn't hug Hinata-s-san right now. He just had a n-n-nasty fall, after all."

"Of course, Mikan-chan!" the newcomer, Mioda, states, letting go of Hinata and raising a hand in a mock salute. "Ibuki didn't forget! She was just happy to see him!"

The boy is stood in the doorway of the dank, desolate room they're gathered in, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "Perhaps I should have waited a little longer before I got Mioda-san."

Tsumiki looks at him with half-lidded eyes, unimpressed. "Perhaps you should have, Komaeda-san."

Hinata takes this opportunity to really survey his surroundings. Now he's stood, and is feeling a little less discombobulated, he can really take in the room they're in. There are pale curtains drawn, and the last trickles of sunlight are slipping through, illuminating the room in a sort of soft brown, beige haze. The boy, Komaeda, has wild hair that Hinata knows is white, but looks grey with dirt. He's wearing a long green coat that is scruffy and ripped and far too long for him. Hanging off of his arm is Mioda, who must have retreated back to him when she finished bouncing Hinata into walls. Her hair is long and dark, with fading highlights. Her clothes appear to be the most damaged; there are rips in her tights and her gloves and her shoes are scuffed. Her shirt is torn and her skirt frayed. She has several silver piercings, all of which are dulled with neglect.

Tsumiki's clothes are tattered and covered in what Hinata can only assume is blood. Her legs are bound with bandages, and she's only wearing one shoe; one the other foot she has a sodden sock, black with mud. It looks like she's shoved the sole of a shoe into the bottom of the sock, but Hinata can't work out for sure. Her arms also have bandages wrapped around them, and something in Hinata's mind says that they're to protect her from getting wounds, not to heal any wounds she's already obtained.

It suddenly strikes him that Komaeda is dressed the same as him, bar the ugly coat. His heart goes cold and stops for a beat when he realises that the tattered, mud stained, bloodsoaked outfit they're all wearing is his school uniform.

Hinata thinks he needs to sit down for a second. He stumbles back, and instantly feels something warm move out to steady him. Nanami is holding him up.

He can briefly hear Komaeda explaining to Mioda that Hinata doesn't remember anything, and Mioda reports that some of the rooms on the second floor have electricity. There's also running water. Tsumiki reminds Mioda they already know that.

"Ibuki didn't see any particularly good ways to escape," Mioda continues, her tone almost a pantomime whisper, like she wants Hinata to hear, "but she also didn't see any ways for the infected to make it in."

"Still," Komaeda groans, "we are effectively trapped here until Hinata-kun is ready to go."

"Ibuki wonders if maybe Nagito-chan was right," Mioda glances at Hinata, then back to Komaeda. Hinata feels Nanami stiffen. "Maybe Hajime-chan should have been left behind."

They were going to leave him behind? Because of his head injury? Hinata doesn't know why, but that hurts him. He supposes it's because, although he does not remember these people, a few moments prior they meant the world to him.

Nanami whispers, "I wouldn't have let them leave you behind. I didn't let them leave you behind," and the shifts her weight slightly, so her grip on Hinata is stronger, more supportive.

"We can sit back down, if you find that easier," Hinata tells her.

She chews her bottom lip. "Would you prefer that?"

He nods, and they sink to the floor. He finds his arm around Nanami's shoulder, and she leans against him slightly. It's comfortable, natural. He feels like he's sat like this a million times before.

"Do you really not remember anything?" she asks, loud enough to attract the attention of the others, who give the pair a glance. "Not even the outbreak?"

The outbreak? Hinata opened his mouth to say no, but closed it again as images flooded his mind; the stretcher, the ambulance, the police, the quarantine. The scent of too many people crowded into an area that they shouldn't be in. The despair. The hopelessness. The certainty of death. And the blood. He remembers the blood.

In the time he's been remembering, Komaeda, Mioda and Tsumiki have gathered around him. Tsumiki is hugging her knees to her chest, Mioda is sat cross-legged, and Komaeda allows his legs to stretch out in front of him. "Do you know what's happening, Hinata-kun?" His cold eyes seem to gaze right into Hinata's soul and pull the memories from him. "Do you know why we're here?"

"The girl..." he mumbles. He remembers the girl. "She... She combined something she shouldn't have... She got sick," he trails off. He remembers the girl. He remembers how she slumped, how her bones seemed to lean against her skin like her skeleton was about to burst from within her and how her eyes were so lost and so sunken.

She was in the year above Hinata, but now that he thinks about it, the whole school probably saw her. Just like the whole school saw what she did to the nurse.

"That 'girl' had a name," Tsumiki growls, her teeth grit.

Hinata nods slowly. "I remember it... Enoshima Junko..."

"And you remember what Enoshima-san did that day, Hinata-kun?" Komaeda pressed onwards. "You remember what she sparked?"

"Yes..." Hinata almost feels like he's in a daze. "The nurse... and the... the quarantine..."

He remembers the quarantine. He remembers his whole school being on lockdown and no one being able to leave. He remembers holding... he remembers holding someone as they cried, and smoothing their hair and promising it would all be okay and that they'd get out of it alive and nothing bad would happen to them and yes, half of their class might be missing, but they still had each other.

He remembers how people would go missing. He remembers that they'd never be seen again after that. He remembers the fear that came with knowing he could be next. He remembers wanting his parents and wanting to get out and promising to keep that person safe.

"And what happened after that, Hinata-kun? What did you do?"

"I... Oh God." Hinata raises a hand to his mouth in horror, and tries to resist the urge to throw up. Because he remembers everything now. He remembers breaking out and he remembers what followed. He remembers the bodies lining the streets and he remembers watching his parents as they breathed their last and he remembers the fighting and the blood and suddenly he notices the axe in Nanami's free hand and he knows her bag is filled with similar weapons. He remembers watching a girl from his school take down monsters with only scissors and he remembers watching Mioda crack one of their heads open with a guitar.

But most of all... Most of all he remembers starting the apocalypse.

"I didn't mean to let the infection out!" he cries, startling Nanami. "I just couldn't take it any more! You said it yourself, Tsumiki, you thought Enoshima planned for this to happen, and that someone would do it eventually anyway!"

Mioda claps. "Yay! Hajime-chan is back!"

Komaeda smiles. "Welcome back, Hinata-kun."

Hinata does not smile. He does not do anything. He doesn't want to be back in his head. He doesn't want to be back with his memories. Now, he is all-too aware of how he got his head wound, and he remembers what happened before the others showed up to escort him to safety. Now that he remembers, he's terrified and sickened and he wants to forget again.

Standing up, Komaeda says, "We might as well make the most of being here. I don't think we should expect any visits from the Infected; I mean, this place was a ghost town when we came here earlier, so I don't see why it should change this evening, or tomorrow, or even the day after."

"Also," Mioda leaps to her feet, "since there's running water here, Ibuki thinks it would be a great opportunity for everyone to wash and bathe!"

It's clear how much Tsumiki wants to wash and bathe. "God, it's been forever since I felt even a little bit clean," she groans, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Ibuki calls the bathroom first!" Mioda yells, grabbing Komaeda's hand and dragging him out of the room. Tsumiki sighs.

"I'll go check for any medicine, or u-useful supplies," she mumbles, getting to her feet.

It's just Hinata and Nanami in the room now.

"I, uh," Hinata has so much to say, but no idea how to say it. The words all tangle together in a jumbled mess in his head. "I'm sorry I forgot you," he decides on finally, his voice barely a whisper.

"Don't be," Nanami's gaze is firmly on the ground, and her voice is a tad wobbly, like she's about to burst into tears. She turns her head slightly to the side, so she's facing him, and brings her gaze upwards. Hinata's olive eyes lock with her watery pink ones, and she snuffles, before smiling and saying, "I'm just glad you remember me now."

Hinata isn't. Nanami isn't the only thing he remembers.

"Just... Just promise me you won't do it again." She licks her lips, and blinks, a few stray teardrops landing that leap of faith and trickling down her pale, grimy cheeks, washing away some of the mud and blood that their journey had caused to accumulate there. "Promise you won't forget me?"

He swallows. He knows he won't be able to keep that promise.

Before he can say anything her lips are on his lips and she tastes salty and sweet and soft and she's perfectly melded for him, the two of them colliding together and clicking together, like puzzle pieces, like magnets, like the most perfect fit of two loose clasps, of broken fragments of a whole, the two of the pushing into each other and staying in place like living lego. His hands find her hair and even though its tangled and clotted and filthy, if he runs his hands through it he can pretend it's still soft as silk because he can remember exactly how each strand felt as it ran between his thumb and his index finger. Her hands find the back of his neck and join together there. She moves closer to him until she's practically hanging off him like a second skin, a jumper that's too baggy, the most beautiful necklace tightly fastened around his neck and positioned exactly over his heart. He's sucking lightly on her lower lip and his tongue is darting over hers and just as quickly as it started, the moment ends, the two of them pulling apart abruptly when Tsumiki coughs loudly to make it clear that she's there.

"Hinata-san," she says, her voice laden with negativity, "I suggest that you wash after Mioda-san is done, so you can make sure your head is cleaned properly. I got you some fresh bandages."

Hinata thanks her, and takes the bandages, leaning back against the wall and talking about idle nothings with Nanami until Komaeda and Mioda return, dripping wet and laughing.

That's when Hinata realises he has to face this.

He kisses Nanami's forehead and makes his way up to the bathroom. The carpet has been torn from the stairs and in some places he treads on the bare wood. The bathroom isn't in good condition, with grey lining the sink and the bath itself. He turns the tap on. His shoulder aches.

He removes his shirt. He runs his hands under the tap, and then runs them through his hair, dislodging dust and dirt. He unwraps the bandage around the gash in his head, and grimaces as the dirty water from his hair trickles into the wound. He splashes water on it, cleaning it out, ignoring both the pain and his reflection.

He moves onto his face, and still he avoids his reflection. He cleans his arms and his chest, and goes over his face again before using a musty, rotten towel to dab his face dry, and then he couldn't deny it any longer. He brings his head up slowly, and his gaze up even slower, until he's looking directly at himself in the mirror, and there it is, bright as day, and huge, swollen, red bite mark.

If he had to guess, Hinata would say he had about three days left, one of which he would spend in unbearable agony.

He sighs, licks his lips, and makes a decision he knows he'll regret. He slips his shirt back on. He buttons it up. He opens the bathroom door and he walks downstairs. He hears the conversation of his friends; it's the happiest its been since before the Enoshima incident.

He takes a deep breath, and he walks inside.

"Tsumiki," he says, "the bathroom's free."

author's note: hhhhhh idk where i wa s going with this but i wen thte re the end its really ear ly in the morning i want to sleep but i said id play cah with someone im ange r

oh well

ill upload this to tumblr tomorrow and try to get the next part of the challenge out then too. night