A/N: Hello everyone! This chapter's more an interlude connecting last chapter and next chapter. Not a lot of plot. But we do get the reunion (meeting?) you've all been waiting for! So without further ado…

The world was timeless, and dark, and warm. It was like a dream, all slow and syrup-y. There was someone else with her, she could tell, but they were just beyond her reach. A few times she thought she heard their voice. She never felt particularly harried to go seek them out; they weren't going anywhere. She could stay cocooned in this forever, and so she drifted.

What could have been seconds or years later, she realized there was something nagging at her head. A persistent little thought that, once she became aware of, she couldn't ignore, no matter how much she tried. She grimaced and tried to turn away from it, but it pursued her.

I need to get up. Class starts soon, Yukizome-sensei won't like it if I'm late…

Once the words rang through her head, they dominated her world, get up echoing around her. She felt herself get snagged by an invisible hand and dragged backwards through the darkness. It seemed to narrow around her, becoming a tunnel, and she was fast approaching a light—

As soon as she passed through it, she snapped to a halt. She was in the darkness again, but it was different from before. Heavier and more tangible.

Awareness came in the form of touch first. Her limbs felt like lead. There was something pricking at her elbows and wrists, like a needle? And her pajamas seemed really thin against her skin. The air was unusually warm; had the academy finally fixed her room's broken heating machine? She would remember someone coming in and doing that, wouldn't she?

The silence struck her next. Their rooms were soundproof, so no outside noise wasn't unusual, but she was sure her good old SNES had come down with a case of coil whine. She'd planned to ask Soda-kun to take a look at it so it would stop humming at night. Or had she done that already, and he'd fixed it?

Class, her sluggish brain reminded her. Reluctantly, Chiaki cracked her eyes open and was almost blinded by the lights overhead. She grimaced and squeezed them shut, seeing spots on the back of her eyelids. After a few tense seconds, she dared to open them again by a narrow slit. Through her eyelashes she couldn't see much, but the ceiling above her was definitely not from her room.

What…?

Opening her eyes a little more proved safe. With her clearer vision, she could tell that the ceiling was tile. White, and utterly uninteresting. She stared at it blearily for a few moments, then turned her head to her right, feeling her neck crick.

Red. Red was the first thing she saw. Red eyes boring into hers, set in a face partially obscured by the thick black hair that cascaded long past his shoulders. But she still recognized that face; it was a face she'd waited months to see again. Her heart jumped.

Hinata-kun—no. She knew he was Hinata-kun, but wasn't at the same time. She knew that somehow, knew him from somewhere. How? She grasped for memory, but it slipped through her fingers like water. All she had was the vague sensation of running.

With that realization, her heart began to pound fists against her ribcage, and the air was suddenly gone from her lungs. Where was she, what was happening, why didn't she remember—

"Be calm." The voice was almost exactly like Hinata-kun's, but a little deeper, a little softer. It compelled her to immediately obey. She'd heard that exact same voice before; it was familiar, and she clung to it. "You are in no danger here. You are likely experiencing disorientation and short-term memory loss. That is normal for someone emerging from a deep period of unconsciousness."

A deep period of what? "Wh…" Her voice sounded thin and reedy to her ears. It faltered, cracked, and emerged as a harsh cough. Chiaki licked her lips, newly aware of how dry her mouth and throat were. The young man set aside the laptop he'd been using and rose from his chair. He left her field of vision, returning moments later with a cup in his hand. His other cradled the back of her head, lifting it up.

"Do not attempt to speak. Your voice has grown weak from disuse; you will need a few minutes to regain control over your vocal functions."

He lifted the cup to her mouth, and she tasted water against her lips. Slowly, she parted them, and the liquid poured down her throat. For a brief, terrifying moment she forgot how to swallow, and almost gagged; but then instinct took over, and it went down. She coughed again.

Not-Quite-Hinata-kun retrieved a tissue from somewhere and wiped away the excess water that had dribbled down her chin. For the next few minutes he went about checking something near her bed—a machine, maybe? Chiaki relaxed backwards, wanting to talk but suddenly feeling too exhausted to try. She yawned, and his head turned.

"It seems you will be falling asleep," he observed, studying her face closely. "Do not fight it. Your body knows what it needs."

She wanted to protest—she had so many questions to ask—but her eyes were already sliding shut, and before she knew it the world was once again swallowed by black.

Chiaki had no idea how much time passed before she woke again. It was a bit easier than before, less unnatural, and she actually felt a bit refreshed. Like the first time she was a little disoriented upon seeing the foreign ceiling, but regained her bearings faster. She looked around for the man from earlier and quickly saw him sitting in the same chair as before, one leg drawn up with his arm resting across the knee, his eyes still on her.

Despite clearly seeing that she was awake, he made no move to approach her, and Chiaki took the opportunity to investigate the room a little more. The IVs were no longer injected into her arms, was the first thing she noticed. The second was that she was just in a cheap, thin hospital gown, which contrasted the very comfy bed she was lying on. The room looked about the size of a regular bedroom, though devoid of any personal customization. A single door lay at the far end of the room, next to a dresser, and the solitary window behind the man was closed, curtains shut.

This time when she tried to speak, her voice obeyed. "Hinata…kun…?"

"No." His voice wasn't particularly kind or unkind. Just monotone. "This is his body, but Hinata Hajime's mind and personality are dead."

What? His mind and personality are—dead? What? How? Her heart pinched. Did that mean Hinata-kun was dead? That…that couldn't be true. And yet, somehow it didn't ring false.

She—She needed to think. Just from the way this person talked, she could tell he was different from Hinata-kun. That didn't mean Hinata-kun was dead, right? Just—not here. Maybe amnesiac, or a clone, or…something.

…It would be rude not to ask his name, though. "What should…I call you then?"

"Kamukura Izuru is the name I was given."

What an odd name…don't I know it from somewhere? "Kamukura-kun…" She paused, giving him time to protest at the honorific; he didn't, and so she continued, "what happened?"

"Specify. Are you asking what happened to Hinata Hajime? What happened to you?"

"Both. Either. I don't…" Chiaki squeezed her eyes shut; her head was pounding. "I don't understand what's going on."

With the nonchalance of one talking about the weather, he said, "There was an attempt to kill you. I found you shortly after and preserved your life. You have been in a coma for one month and a persistent vegetative state for seven."

What? The sheer shock of his statements jolted her eyes open, the migraine flying out of her head. Someone had tried to kill her? Eight months had passed? None of that was possible. That just…couldn't be possible. She remembered yesterday perfectly; she'd gotten up, gone to class, worried about the Parade, and then… and then…

Okay, so there was that blank spot. But eight months couldn't have passed in that time. She told him so.

Kamukura-kun stared at her flatly, then dropped his leg and rose. He pulled out a cellphone and stepped towards the bed. Flicking it on, he turned the screen towards her. She peered at the displayed date.

The words May 28 winked up at her. Last she remembered, it had been September. Chiaki's shoulders slumped. She still couldn't believe it, but right there was irrefutable proof that eight months of her life were gone just like that. She'd missed New Year's celebration—she'd made plans to visit the festival with her friends—she'd missed graduation—her class was going to throw a huge party—she'd missed—god. She'd missed her own birthday. She was a year older now. She didn't feel it.

If that was true, then…then could the part about someone trying to murder her be true as well? She wouldn't have thought someone could have snuck into the Academy, but—but it had happened before, right? Someone had snuck in and murdered Kuzuryu-kun's sister, all that time ago. Had some psychopath really attempted to do the same to her? She reached for that missing memory again. All she pulled up was a laugh ringing in her ears and a too-wide grin stretching before her eyes, and she instinctively recoiled. A shiver shook her body.

"Do not worry," Kamukura-kun's voice cut in, and she glanced up at him, "I kept your survival secret. Your attacker thinks you dead and will not be coming after you again."

That was a bit of a relief, she supposed, especially since she couldn't even remember what her attacker looked like. Her tense body relaxed. Then the rest of his words sunk in, and a jolt shot through her.

"You kept it secret? So—my friends and family—"

"Think you dead as well. It was necessary to keep you safe."

Oh god, what had they gone through? Eight months. She'd been assumed dead for eight months. How badly were her friends grieving? What about her parents? They'd never been close, but still—

"We…we can tell them now, though, right?" His flat, blank stare was a very clear no, and she frowned. "Why not?"

Cryptically, he said, "The world has changed much as you slept, Nanami."

"What does that mean?" As soon as that one question came out, it was followed by an onslaught of others, all the bottled-up emotions coming loose. "What happened to the world? What happened to Hinata-kun? Where did you come from? Who tried to kill me? How'd you—"

Kamukura-kun raised a hand, halting her stream of words. "I will explain everything later. Continuing to do so now will only overwhelm you. Learning of your coma and attempted murder is already a great deal for your brain to process."

Chiaki puffed her cheeks out, suddenly feeling a great deal of empathy for every video game protagonist ever who'd had to deal with vague "I'll explain later"s from mysterious figures. She wanted to know now. But the worst part was, she knew he wasn't wrong; just what he'd told her already made her brain feel like it was going to explode. She took a deep breath and tried to organize the information he'd given her like in a quest log.

I woke up in an unfamiliar bed. There's a strangely-familiar stranger. He told me I barely survived a murder attempt. I've been out for months, and everyone I know thinks I'm dead.

Sounds like the prologue of an RPG.

Attempting to be surreptitious, she stole a glance at Kamukura-kun, who had returned to his seat, trying to get a feel for his character. Long black hair, red eyes that almost seemed to glow, attractive but stoic face. No doubt about it: if this were an RPG, he'd be the aloof, all-knowing, mysterious character, the one your party encountered multiple times but wasn't sure whose side they were on. Like Asch in Tales of the Abyss.

What else? He said he'd tended to her recovery, so maybe he was a doctor? But he wasn't dressed like one. But if it wasn't his job, why had he looked after her? Eight months was a long time to commit to something like this.

He said his body used to be Hinata-kun's, whatever that means…maybe there's something left of Hinata-kun in there? That was a nice thought, though maybe she was just being wistful. Hinata-kun had been her first friend, her first best friend. He'd been…special to her. She didn't want to believe he was completely dead.

But…was it unfair to think like that? Kamukura-kun had saved her life, he deserved the dignity of being addressed as himself, not as a shadow of her best friend… So then, wouldn't using 'Kamukura-kun' but secretly projecting 'Hinata-kun' be rude too? Even in this short interaction, she could clearly see how different they were. Hinata-kun was always so uncertain, anxious even, but he was so alive in comparison to the glacial, formal Kamukura-kun.

And…he didn't make her feel the same way Hinata-kun had. Talking to him didn't make her feel light and floaty. Her heart hadn't jumped into staccato when their eyes had met. The face was the same, but the differences—in expression, in posture, in hair, in eyes—were just so great… It reminded her of that first thought when she saw him: even if he was Hinata-kun, he wasn't. Even if Hinata-kun still existed, he wasn't here right now.

In the end, there was really only one question that mattered, one only she could answer: did she believe in Kamukura-kun? Did she believe what he'd told her, and did she believe that he had her best interests at heart?

Listening to what her heart was telling her, she quickly found the answer. "…Okay. I'll hold you to that."

He blinked at her. "You are not afraid? I just informed you that you are completely defenseless and weak, in an unknown location with an unknown man as your only company. No one knows where you are, nor do they believe you to even be alive. Any other in your place would find that a frightening position to be in."

Chiaki shook her head. "No. If you wanted to hurt me, you've had plenty of time to do it. And more than that…" She paused, trying to figure out how to verbalize her thoughts. "I just know I can trust you."

"…You know you can trust me."

"I don't know how to explain it." She pursed her lips. "It's like…I know I've felt your presence and heard your voice before. It's…safe."

If she hadn't been looking at him in that exact instance, she would have missed the fractional widening of his eyes entirely. As is, it was such a small movement she wasn't sure she hadn't imagined it.

"…Such a decision is most illogical. You are indeed a curious person, Nanami Chiaki," he finally said.

"Well, not everything has to be about logic. The world would be boring if it were…I think."

He wanted to test her for any lingering neurological or mental damage immediately, and he tested practically everything. How well she could track him across a room, how far she could see clearly, how much of her past she remembered, how much basic knowledge she had, whether she could feel his hand's grip on her thigh, her knee, her arm. By the end of it Chiaki was exhausted and ready to go back to sleep, but she tried to keep her eyes open at least long enough to finish hearing him out.

"You retain sensation in all your limbs," he surmised as he released her forearm. "That is fortuitous. It means you will still be able to use them. It will take time to return them to the shape they used to be in, but a full recovery is not out of the realm of possibility."

"That's good to know… though really, I'm just glad my hands are safe. I'd be devastated if I couldn't play my games anymore." What had happened to her games, she wondered with a pang? An odd thing to worry about, given the circumstances, but they were so important to her. They defined her, like it or not. The thought of her friends slowly boxing them up, thinking she would never need them again, brought a lump to her throat.

That risked sending her down a road she didn't particularly want to travel, so she pushed it to the back of her mind to pay attention to what Kamukura-kun was currently saying. "Mentally, you also appear to be fine. You do not appear to have anterograde amnesia or retrograde amnesia, though further testing will be required to solidify that."

"Alright." Despite her efforts, her mood had swung down a bit, and it must have shown. Kamukura-kun studied her for a long moment, seemingly considering something, then said, "There is one more thing."

The raven-haired man reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Chiaki blinked. "Is that…my Gala Omega hairpin?"

Kamukura-kun's face was completely unreadable as he answered. "It fell out of your hair. I predicted you would want it back, so I held onto it."

He placed the pin in her hand, and she managed to curl her fingers around it, a bit of happiness flickering back in her chest. She could barely lift her arm, so she wasn't able to wear it, but it was still nice to have it again, nice to have an anchor to her life eight months ago. "Ah, you were right. Thank you for that. It was really thoughtful of you." She smiled at him.

He looked away. "From here on out I will be tending to your recovery and return to peak health. I predict it will be a long process; I will draw up a rehabilitation program and have it ready by tomorrow."

Tomorrow? That seemed awfully quick, and Chiaki wondered yet again just who Kamukura-kun was. But he'd said he'd explain later, so she smiled again and dipped her head gratefully. "I'm in your care."

A/N: Yes, I know Izuru has the hairpin in canon. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. All will be explained in time.

Reason for the dates! I…actually had to go back and edit the amount of time Izuru spent watching over Chiaki because I miscalculated the date of her execution. Whoops. So here's the fruit of that labor:

Chisa's return from the Reserve Course is in March. Six months before that is September, so that's the month Komaeda was suspended in. That's important because Episode 7 has "the first anniversary of Komaeda's death", or suspension. Episodes 7-10 occur very closely to each other, within a few days…so Chiaki's execution was in September.

Assuming Hope's Peak has the normal term length as a Japanese high school, their graduation date would have been in March, and that would have been when the fall of Hope's Peak happened. So Chiaki spent six months unconscious at the academy; the Tragedy happened; and it's been another two.

Also, most people wake up without any memory of what put them in the coma in the first place. That's convenient for me, since I don't have to tackle the issue of the failed rescue mission right away. There's already a lot Izuru needs to explain to Chiaki, a lot for her to process, without having to acknowledge the mess that came with that.