A/N: Oh boy, here we go people. This is Big. This is a Big Chapter. Buckle yourselves in.
It was only a few days after Kamukura-kun left that Gekkogahara-san called the interns and their supervisors to a meeting. It was in the same room she'd first met them in, the fourth-floor conference room with the large projector. Around Chiaki, the other interns were chatting, wondering what Gekkogahara-san could want this time. But there was fondness in their voices; the Ultimate Therapist's slightly silly but gentle aura and the steps she took to personally know her employees had endeared her to many, to the point some of the younger ones actually called her 'onee-san'. Though Honda-kun gave Chiaki a smile and a wave when she came in, everyone else ignored her.
Once Chiaki took her seat—last one in as usual—Gekkogahara-san clapped her hands for their attention. "As I'm sure many of you have heard by now, the crisis in Towa City has reached a conclusion. Togami-kun, who was being held hostage, has managed to escape, and on his way out he picked up many of the captives our forces originally went to save."
Usami paused, her ears drooping. "Unfortunately, some were unable to be rescued, and Fukawa-san, who went in to save Togami-kun, has also not returned... Our intelligence has deduced they've all been captured again, so we can't risk taking any further action against Towa City. That said, I'm sure we'll eventually find a way to save everyone trapped, so for the time being please focus on doing your best.
"Our focus, now more than ever, must be on helping those rescued. Interns, consider this your first real case. You will each be assigned a Towa City captive to counsel, under supervision. I will email you the profile of your assigned individual once this meeting is concluded. Please review them with your supervisor later, and as always you can come to me for questions…"
Those memories were fresh in her mind as Chiaki looked at the picture of the girl she'd been assigned, that night in her apartment. She was still a teenager, maybe three or so years younger than her. Pretty, with short chestnut hair and pale eyes, but the heavy layers of makeup she wore were too reminiscent of Enoshima for Chiaki's comfort. Nakajima Kanon was her name, cousin of Kuwata Leon. Also attached was a short psyche profile and extra notes, and she made a mental note to read them more thoroughly tomorrow morning.
Sighing, she put her phone back in her pocket and returned her attention to her pansies. Chiaki frowned unhappily as she gently fingered a thin petal. They'd started wilting yesterday, and nothing she was doing was perking them up. She supposed they were reaching the end of their lifespan; it was probably thanks to Kamukura-kun's formula they'd lasted as long as they had.
Contemplating whether or not to buy replacements—she did like the color, but flowers were so hard to take care of compared to a rabbit—she threw on a Pac-Man t-shirt and a pair of shorts for the night. She'd just settled down to finish her latest rerun of Fire Emblem Thracia 776 when a knock came on her door. Chiaki hesitated, indecisive; she wore her wig and glasses everywhere, even answered the door in them, just in case she encountered someone she knew. But she'd already taken them off for bed and didn't feel like putting them back on.
You know what? She spent almost all her time pretending to be someone else. This was Nanami Chiaki time. Gaming time. They could come back at an earlier hour. She nodded firmly and decided to ignore the knocking. Let's see, when she last left off she'd been marching on the Empire's detention center…
She huffed in annoyance at a second knock. She'd just reached over to turn up the volume when a familiar voice spoke on the other side. "Nanami, open the door."
Chiaki brightened, irritation instantly forgotten. Immediately she placed the controller down and rushed over.
"Kamukura-kun!" she chirped, throwing the door open. "Welcome ba—what happened to your hands?!"
She grabbed his hands and held them up for inspection. They were covered in bandages, red liquid slowly soaking through the fabric. It baffled her, the notion that he could bleed, that something could even hurt him. He always seemed so untouchable.
He was silent as she ushered him over to her table and fetched her first-aid kit. Taking a seat across from him, she started changing the dressings. "You had me so worried. You couldn't pick up your phone, and I heard the fighting was getting worse and worse… And now you come home with your hands all banged up! What did you do, punch a Monokuma?"
"Something like that." There wasn't a single sign of discomfort or pain as she dabbed disinfectant on the half-healed cuts. His fingers didn't even twitch. "This is unnecessary. I can change my bandages myself."
Chiaki paused, unconsciously squeezing his hands. "I know, but…let me take care of you. Please."
"…Do as you wish."
"Thank you."
In silence, she continued to work. It really hadn't been all that long since he'd left, just a couple of days, but they had felt so scary. For the first time, she'd been unable to reach him, even on the phone. Even knowing that it was because Towa City's communications were jammed had done little to alleviate her greater anxiety. Her mind couldn't help spinning through a dozen different fears—he was captured, he was injured, he was dead…
She was relieved to see they had been unfounded.
As she finished pinning the last bandage in place, Chiaki's fingers laced with his. She studied them. They were much larger than hers, but elegant, like a pianist's or a doctor's. How often had she just grabbed these hands without really seeing? How often did she take it for granted that they would be there for her to hold another day?
She exhaled, slowly, and looked up. Kamukura-kun was watching her, his gaze very focused. They were so close together she could clearly see that crosshair in his eyes, framed by long lashes. Unconsciously, she licked her lips, and for the briefest second his eyes darted down to them.
"Kamukura-kun, I—"
"I will be departing soon."
Chiaki's mouth snapped shut. Outside, a siren wailed. "In Search of Victory" continued in the background.
"…To find my friends." There'd been a note of finality in his tone. The joy of seeing him again drained out, leaving an odd mixture of feelings in its wake. Gladness her friends would soon get the chance to be saved, but hollowness too. She hadn't expected he'd be leaving immediately. He'd only just gotten back... "When will you all be able to return?"
"By my estimate, it will be several months before I can gather your classmates and orchestrate our capture. Six at the minimum, but it is likely to be more. Perhaps even a year, or greater."
Six months to a year, or more. Chiaki dropped his hands, feeling dizzy. A sudden feeling of déjà vu overcame her. Six months 'til she saw Yukizome-sensei again after her transfer, a year 'til she saw 'Hinata-kun' again, two years and counting since she last saw her friends—it felt like she did nothing but wait. History repeated itself in the worst ways.
She'd known this separation was coming, of course, but she hadn't wanted to think about what it entailed. So she hadn't. And now she was getting hit with that emotion full force.
"Okay," she said, shakily. It was necessary. She wanted to ask if she could come, but no—this was the entire reason she'd joined the Future Foundation in the first place. In case this plan didn't work, so there could maybe be other options, other ways to help her friends. That's right…it's for their sake. For Kamukura-kun's answer, whatever question he's having. You can afford to wait again.
…it just wasn't fair.
God, how childish was that thought?
He studied her. "You appear distressed."
"Well…of course." She tried for a smile. "I won't get to see you for such a long time… I understand why, but it still makes me sad."
"I see." He went quiet for a beat. "Before I depart, I request your cooperation."
Chiaki blinked. "My cooperation?" What could I possibly offer?
"Nanami," Izuru said. "There is a possibility the program will not work, or that it will backfire, or some other negative outcome will occur."
Izuru had thought long and hard on how much he would tell Nanami as he walked away from the warzone of Towa City, one AI hard-drive in each hand. Calculating all her potential reactions and what certain information might drive her to do or not do. For the tiniest millisecond, he'd even considered leaving without telling her anything, but something buried deep inside him had rebelled against that. It would devastate her. He wouldn't do it. It simply was not an option, like letting her die hadn't been an option.
Still, he knew he was deliberately withholding the truth from her. No—he was outright lying, or at the very least letting her misunderstand. The Neo World Program was still untested, so there was a possibility it could go wrong, but the primary element of danger would only be there because he introduced it. There was an eighty percent chance it would work fine on its own, and he was leading her to believe otherwise. The misdirection created an odd feeling, a twist somewhere in his gut. Shame and a slight nausea. He thought this discomforting sensation might have been guilt, and for a bizarre moment he felt the urge to confess everything.
But he had to forge on. From the moment he conceived this plan, he knew he could tell no one of the entirety of it, not even Nanami. The odds of interference were too high. He would brook no more sabotages, would tolerate no more delays in his search for the truth. So he suppressed that feeling and continued, "Among those is a chance the subjects will fall to despair. And if I did, and I knew you were alive, I would desire to harm or kill you. So, I must not know you are alive when I enter the program."
He stopped, searching her face for understanding. It was not there; perhaps she was simply in denial about what she must know he was about to say next.
"Nanami, I must erase my memories of our time together."
There was an uncomfortable pause as that sank in. Then her face crumpled, and his heart pinched painfully in response. His fingers twitched, wanting to reach out and entangle with her own. He kept them on the table. "Why?" she whispered, sounding choked.
"I just finished explaining why. To prevent—"
"No, I get that. But…" She stopped. Wiped her eyes and continued, voice trembling, "I thought—I thought you'd just be bringing my friends there. Why do you need to go in with them? You aren't brainwashed."
He had predicted she would ask that, but unreasonably wished she wouldn't. "…I told you already. An answer."
Her eyes flashed. "That's it?!"
"Nanami—"
"That's more important?! Some vague answer is more important than—than our friendship?!"
…She was not going to let him speak uninterrupted. He decided to let her rant. And rant she did, face flushed, tears beading at the corner of her eyes, and voice rising in volume.
"Look, I always knew you and I think on different wavelengths, and I accepted that. You've kept your secrets, and I'm fine with that too. I've tried to be supportive, because I—I care a lot about you, and I want you to be happy. But I can't pretend to be okay with you wanting to erase your memories of me forever for an answer to a question you haven't even told me!" She slammed her hands against the table. Izuru's ears picked up a thump on the other end of the room, most likely her rabbit starting in fright.
He waited until several seconds had dragged by, ensuring she would hear him. "…It would not be forever."
She stared uncomprehendingly, confusion mixing with the traces of anger and grief. Izuru continued, "I will not be using Matsuda's memory erasure techniques for the procedure. Instead I plan to opt for self-hypnosis to lock away my memories. In the process, I will implant a command for my brain to respond to a specific combination of words. Hearing them will reverse the amnesia."
Nanami's brow furrowed. "Like that thing in spy games where someone uses a code word, and the hero suddenly starts acting like an agent for the enemy side?"
Not an exact comparison, but the gist of it was similar enough. "Yes."
Her voice shook, as if barely daring to hope. "So then…your amnesia wouldn't be permanent?"
"No. And that is where you come in. If you are willing, I will give you the phrase to restore my memories. However…" He paused. "Nanami, you must be certain your friends and I are not in despair first."
She frowned. "How would I do that?"
"I will allow Naegi Makoto to capture us." Naegi was the only person naïve enough to try and help them. Gekkogahara might, but the probability was higher with the Ultimate Hope. "He will need to contact Gekkogahara about using the Neo World Program. If, after he does, he goes missing or is found dead, it will be highly likely that the program failed to rehabilitate your classmates."
"Because they'll have killed him," she said sadly.
"Yes." He supposed there was a chance Enoshima's AI would let Naegi live, but trapping him in the Neo World Program forever was hardly a kinder fate. "The Neo World Program is likely to have its completion announced to the Foundation, given the possibilities it holds in countering despair. So pay attention to the program's state, and pay attention to the events of the Future Foundation."
Nanami took a deep breath and sat back down. Shakily, she rubbed at her eyes, avoiding his gaze. Silence settled, interrupted only by the occasional little hiccup from the young woman and the game's music in the background. It was oppressive, and Izuru felt the rare urge to keep speaking, to break it.
Slowly, he extracted her hairpin from his pocket and placed it on the table. "…I will return this to you. I imagine you want it back." It hurt, returning it. It didn't make sense. It was just a hairpin. But his chest had warmed to receive it, despite the triviality.
Her lower lip quivered as she stared at the little spaceship. Then her face morphed into a determined expression as she pushed it back over to him. "No. No, I'm not taking it back. Because—because it's not finished doing its job!"
Izuru blinked as she stabbed a finger at him, trying to look firm despite the tearstains still fresh on her cheeks. "This isn't an ending I like, so I'll keep working hard until we can all reunite. Me and my friends and you. I don't know what'll happen after, but that is an ending I'd be happy with, because we'd all be together, and that's worth fighting for. So I won't accept that hairpin back until we reach it!"
It had been a long time since Izuru had heard her so resolute. Not since that maze. Hope again…
He…wanted it to win. He shouldn't. He should remain impartial to the experiment. But that tug, that desire, for her to be right and hope to be the stronger side, was there. How odd.
"Up up down down left right left right b a," he stated. "That will be the trigger."
She choked out a laugh. "The Konami code?"
"It is both something that I am unlikely to accidentally hear and something you can easily remember."
"It's a good choice." Nanami sighed. Slowly, she moved to shut off the console, leaving a sudden, stark silence as the music halted. For a moment she stood there, head bowed and fingers splayed over her eyes. Her body posture was slumped, a tiredness in the cast of her shoulders that had not existed a few minutes ago. It was a predictable reaction, high emotional whiplash tended to have that effect on a person, but it bothered him to see her so downcast.
Finally, she looked at him. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. It just…felt like our time together meant so little to you," she whispered, and there was something so broken and sad in her eyes. "That I meant so little you thought nothing of throwing me away."
That was not the message he'd intended to send. He had predicted she might misinterpret his initial words, but even so he still, somehow, felt troubled. He was responsible for inflicting that despair on her, and he would likely be responsible for more. That knowledge…it nauseated him.
"Nanami," Izuru said, standing up and walking to her side, "I ran through every scenario, and this was the one with the highest probability of success. It is something I must do, for myself. But that necessity does not make our time together worthless in my view. Quite the contrary; the year I spent with you was the most content of my existence."
She stared up at him, eyes very wet, and that was—the way she was looking at him—he couldn't comprehend it. Something was very heavy in the air. He gazed back at her, distinctly aware of their close proximity and the increased pace of his heart's beatings.
Finally, she rested her forehead against his chest and closed her eyes. "Just…tomorrow. Give me tomorrow."
Izuru found himself unable to refuse her.
It was a good tomorrow, as long as Chiaki didn't think about what lay at the end of it. By some miraculous luck—probably Kamukura-kun's, actually—it was her day off, so she didn't even have to call in sick. They stayed indoors, to remove the need for her disguise, so she could have one last day with him as herself. They did every activity Chiaki could think of: video games and watching comedies and hair braiding and anything that she could look back and smile at.
She did not think about how devastated she'd been last night, or how foolish she felt for thinking a normal, boyfriend-girlfriend relationship with Kamukura-kun was even possible. Those thoughts tried to creep in, but every time she shoved them down and focused on "the year I spent with you was the most content of my existence". The fact he was trying to plan for a way to bring his memories back. The fact he trusted and relied on her.
She wouldn't gloss over his faults, or the bad parts. She'd face them when it didn't hurt so much. But she wouldn't forget the good parts, either. Even though it hurt…she never wanted to forget him.
"One more game?" she pleaded, the back of her neck prickling with awareness of how late the hour was.
He shook his head slightly, fixing her with a hard, red stare. "It is time for me to go, Nanami."
She slumped. "…I know." Outside, the sun was setting, a single golden beam breaking through the cracks in her curtains and slanting on the floor between them. A phenomenon, in this day and age; times when the sky temporarily returned to normal were not unheard of, but quite rare. It was bitterly fitting that such a devastating parting be marked by such a special occasion.
Indecision warred in Chiaki as she followed Kamukura-kun to the door. There should be a goodbye here, right? Some proper speech, an affirmation of how much he meant to her before a long parting. A confession. That was how it worked in video games. But she didn't want to. Because it would feel like an actual goodbye if she did.
But what if it is? What if you don't say anything and something happens and you carry that regret forever again?
She bit her lip, wrestling with her fears as Kamukura-kun gazed at her a moment longer, something indiscernible in his eyes. Then he turned, placing a hand on the doorknob.
If you just do it, things will turn out okay… But what if they don't? What if this is the last time you ever see him? What if it's just like—
"I love you!" she blurted out.
He stopped. He did not look at her, and Chiaki fiddled with her fingers, half-wishing she could see his expression and half-grateful she didn't have to. It made this easier. "I don't really know what I'm doing, and I know you're going to forget this, but I just…I just wanted you to know, okay? Because I don't—"
"Hinata-kun!"
He paused, turning. The sunset cast his face in a sharp contrast of light and shadow, bringing out his green eyes. He looked so handsome then, touched by gold, and the words Chiaki wanted to say, the words to tell him how precious he was to her, stuck in her throat. She didn't know why she suddenly felt the urge to confess to him; it was just a feeling. A feeling that he was going somewhere and wouldn't be returning.
But…if she said them out loud…she couldn't take them back. And that was paralyzing. This wasn't a video game where she could reload if she made the wrong choice. She wouldn't get a do-over. She didn't have a guide to tell when his affection meter was full. What if he didn't feel the same, and then found it too awkward to hang out with her anymore?
She chickened out. "…sorry. It's nothing."
She was just imagining things, she told herself as Hinata-kun smiled, a little sadly. Of course he'd come back.
She'd tell him later.
She stared, swallowing hard. "…I don't want any more partings with things left unsaid."
Finally, he faced her. Chiaki searched his expression for any emotion, but it was carefully blank, now that she'd gotten the biggest part out, she couldn't stop. She didn't know where the words were coming from; they just seemed to be bubbling up and out of an inner wellspring, uncontrollable and rapid. "I promise I'm not trying to change your mind, or manipulate you into staying, or anything like that. I just wanted you to know, because—there's more to you than your talent. You're patient. You're reliable. You never hesitate to say what's on your mind. You aren't kind, but you're capable of great kindness."
Kamukura-kun still did not answer. She stepped closer, tilting her head back to look into his eyes. "You're loved, okay? Not for your talent. For you."
The wellspring ran dry. And actually…Chiaki felt kind of satisfied. Whether he returned her feelings or not…he deserved to know he was a person who could be loved. Peace settled in her as he considered her words, his eyes half-lidded. And then the most amazing thing happened.
He smiled.
…No, not exactly. Calling it a smile was generous. It was really nothing more than a softening of his face, a bit of warmth in his eyes, an acute upturn of his lips. But though it was slight, it was the most beautiful thing she'd seen. Her heart tripped over itself, and she couldn't stop a grin of her own spreading in response. I finally did it…I finally made him smile.
"…Thank you, Nanami."
Then, to Chiaki's surprise, he reached out and oh-so-gently touched her cheek, light as a feather. His eyes looked very far away. "I am not adept at emotions and expression," he said, slowly, "But Hinata loved you. That I am certain of. I do not think I understood it fully when I first realized…even now I still do not quite understand. Still, those feelings continued to exist, and now they are mine as well. I would even estimate they have grown."
Chiaki couldn't even begin to describe the feeling that overcame her then. It was like…it was like she was flying. It was like she'd beaten the hardest game ever and all her friends were applauding. It was better than either of those. Her smile spread and spread until it felt like it filled her entire face. He'd had a very roundabout way of saying things, but she understood him perfectly.
"I'm glad!" she hiccupped. "I'm really, really glad… Even though I didn't need to hear it back…I'm still glad I got to."
And then, because she was riding on waves of jubilation and impulse and love, she stood on her tiptoes and took his face in her hands and kissed him. She was clumsy and fumbling and probably not very good. But his lips were soft and warm, and he was returning the kiss, one hand just barely touching her waist, and it made electricity race up and down her spine all the way to her toes. Her heart swelled until it felt like it would burst, because oh, she loved it. She loved him.
She was breathless when they finally pulled away. "Should I have asked?" she murmured, suddenly fearing her selfishness had caused her to disregard his own wants.
"No." His warm breath ghosted over her face, and she shivered. His hair was falling like a curtain around them, creating their own little world. Taking advantage of him still being slightly stooped over—he was so tall—Chiaki leaned her forehead against his.
"This isn't goodbye. We'll meet again. …We'll definitely make it happen."
"The outcome may not—"
"We'll make it happen," she stressed. "Because…even if things turn out bad, we can change them. We're in control of our futures. If we just try, things will turn out okay." It isn't a matter of whether I believe that's true anymore or not…rather, I have to believe it's true.
There it was again, that minuscule hint of a smile. "Then, I suppose…I'll entrust that future to your hope."
For a long, long moment they stood there, foreheads pressed together, gazing into each other's eyes as the sun disappeared below the horizon.
"I'll see you later, Kamukura-kun."
"…See you later."
A/N: That last scene was intentionally written to parallel Chiaki's goodbye to Hajime in Episode 3, for those curious.
Yep, much as it sucks, it had to happen. Hajime's speech in Side:Hope doesn't work if he doesn't think Chiaki is dead, and as wonderful as it would be to say "oh, the Neo World Program just messed with his memories"…it's too contrived. And Izuru plans for every possibility. He knows there's a chance he might come out of the program worse than he went in, and he knows what people in despair do to their loved ones. Erasing his memories was the only logical outcome. Hypnosis actually can do that, by the way! It's not recommended since it doesn't really solve the problem (subconsciously you still retain the associated feelings), but Izuru's goal is just losing his memories of Chiaki, not his feelings for her.
But hey, at least Chiaki knows it's not forever and got around to confessing. And even got the sentiment returned! Take what you can get? I'm so sorry for the pain cinnamon roll…