Chapter 5: Something to Believe In

Hanako watched the rectangle of moonlight shining through her window inch across the floor. It was past midnight, probably, and she hadn't done anything but stare at the floor since returning to her cottage.

After the trial, after watching Teruteru die, they'd all agreed to get some rest. Sonia had declared that they should all do their best, whatever that was supposed to mean. It was easier to make empty promises than to grapple with the reality that people died on this island. That any one of them could be next.

She sat up and rubbed the swollen skin of her eyelids. The darkness of the room pressed close, the silence even closer. The only thing she thought would drive it away was a scream.

Instead, she went to her closet and dug out the swimsuit she'd picked up at the supermarket. She changed, grabbed her CD player, and stepped out into the night.

As she'd expected, the pool was empty. There were no lights illuminating the area, and the water looked dark and inviting. She set her CD player at the edge of the tile border and slipped into the water. It was cool against her skin, enough to raise goosebumps, and she relished in the sensation.

She turned the music up loud enough that she'd be able to hear it underwater, then pushed off the side of the pool.

The water rippled with the movement, bobbing her up and down as she floated on her back. It cradled her arms and legs, pushed against her ears. The sky above was crowded with stars, more than she'd ever seen before. It was another reminder that they were far, far away from civilization.

Hanako closed her eyes and tried to focus on the gentle motion of the water, the muffled bass of the music. It wasn't quite loud enough, but she didn't want to move to turn the volume up. She let her head sink beneath the water and held her breath for as long as she could before resurfacing. She waited for the skin on her face to dry and did it again.

God, she wanted a drink. A light buzz would've made this night perfect.

Or as perfect as things could be with two people dead.

A slight presence, like the heat from a lamp, pulled her from her thoughts. She wasn't alone.

Hanako lifted her head and let her legs sink back into the water. Hajime was standing at the edge of the pool in a t-shirt and shorts. He looked a little awkward, like he'd been trying to get her attention for a while.

"Hey," she said.

"Uh, do you mind turning down your music? I can hear it from my cottage."

"Oh. Yeah." She waded towards the speaker, shaking excess droplets from her hands. She thumbed the volume button until the music was only a murmur. "Sorry. I guess it's kind of late."

"Yeah." She expected him to go back to the cottages, but he lingered at the edge of the pool. "Are you okay?"

"I'm great." She rested her elbows on the wet concrete. "I mean, two people died today, but other than that…"

"I guess that was a stupid question." Hajime hesitated, then sat down and crossed his legs. "I don't know how anyone is able to sleep tonight."

"I'm usually up this late, but…" She propped her chin in one hand. "I don't know." She didn't know if she'd be able to fall asleep at all tonight. She didn't know how to keep her cool without looking like an insensitive bitch.

They fell into silence. Hanako couldn't stop thinking about Byakuya's body, the blood pooling under him. The skewer. Nagito's laughter. Teruteru's screams. It made her skin itch. The water felt sticky, the chlorine needling at her pores.

"Did you know?" She glanced at Hajime, who was lost in his own reverie. "That Komaeda was…"

His expression crumpled into a frown. "No, of course not. He seemed a little odd, but so do most of the people on this island." He swallowed. "He seemed nice, you know?"

"He did. He had all of us fooled." She chewed on the inside of her lip. How many of the others were concealing a darkness like that beneath a smile?

She could feel herself teetering on that same edge she'd found when Monokuma had first appeared. She could withdraw, lock her door and stash a weapon under her pillow, or she could take the leap and try trusting again.

The prospect exhausted her. Even if she wouldn't be able to sleep, she wanted a shower, something to wash the phantom sensation of blood and hot oil from her skin.

"All right. I'm beat." She turned off the speaker and heaved herself out of the water. Hajime immediately averted his eyes. "Relax, dude. It's just a bathing suit."

"I know. It's just…kind of awkward." He stood up and became intensely focused on straightening his shirt.

Hanako couldn't help a smile. He seemed like a nice person. She really wanted to believe he truly was.

She picked up the speaker, careful not to drip on it.

"So…are you okay?"

"I don't know." Hajime glanced up at the stars. "I just want to believe we'll find a way off this island. Even if Togami and Hanamura weren't able to."

"Yeah," she rasped. If we can survive each other first.

She had to stop thinking like that. With a sigh, she led the way back towards the cottages. They paused at the junction between the girls' rooms and the boys'.

"Good night, Yukimura," Hajime said.

He looked lonely, standing there. Hanako guessed she would be too, if her closest friend on the island turned out to be a total nutcase.

"See you tomorrow, I guess."

"Are you gonna oversleep again?"

She gave him a dry look, then shot him a finger gun. "You bet."


Peko came to retrieve her the next morning.

Hanako leaned against the doorframe and brushed a still-damp strand of hair out of her face.

"Do you guys draw straws to decide who wakes me up, or what?"

"I volunteered, actually," Peko said, hands clasped behind her back.

"Really?"

"I thought it would be best to contribute more to the group in light of last night's events."

"That's sweet," Hanako said flatly. She stepped outside and shut the door behind her.

Peko seemed to find that to be the end of the conversation, and led the way to the hotel without another word.

Hanako cast her a sidelong glance as she tied her hair up. Peko acted older than a high school student, but not in the condescending, arrogant way Byakuya had. She seemed like the type with strict parents.

"I miss anything this morning?" she asked, just to disrupt the silence.

Peko shook her head. "Everyone is fairly quiet."

True to her word, the atmosphere inside the restaurant was subdued. At this point Byakuya would have been halfway through whatever speech he'd prepared, but without his voice, everyone was left to engage in quiet conversation or simply eat in silence.

Hanako felt a lump in her throat. She wouldn't have minded Byakuya bitching at her about being late if it meant he was still alive.

She sat in an empty chair and began piling food onto her plate. She was starting to feel irritated that Peko had woken her up in the first place. Sharing her misery with everyone else wasn't an ideal way to start the day.

If this is 'our best,' then we're all screwed.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when Ibuki slid into the seat next to her with an uncharacteristically serious expression. "Were you listening to Zeni Geva last night?"

"Oh. Yeah." She blushed. "Sorry, I know the music was kinda loud—"

"Loud and proud, Yukimura!" She smirked. "You're pretty ballsy, listening to one of my favorite bands without me."

"Wait, you like metal? I thought you were into punk rock or pop punk or something like that."

"Ibuki wears a lot of different hats in the music scene. But my true passion is heavy metal."

Despite herself, Hanako felt a smile spread across her face. "I found a few CDs in the supermarket—Zeni Geva, Melt Banana, Mad Capsule Markets. We could rock out sometime."

Ibuki whooped and scooted closer. Their knees bumped together under the table. "Let's do it!"

Before Hanako could respond, a wail cut through the room. She turned around in time to see Hiyoko burst into tears. Several people were staring at her with pinched expressions.

"You mean you haven't bathed at all since we got here?" Kazuichi asked, one hand hovering near his nose.

"I can't help it." Hiyoko sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "I don't know how to tie my kimono sash by myself."

The stench that had been bothering the others reached Hanako's nose, and she winced. "You could always wear a different outfit."

"It's okay, Saionji." Mahiru leaned over and rubbed Hiyoko's shoulder, then shot a warning glare at the others. "I can teach you how to tie your sash."

Hiyoko blinked away her tears. "Really?"

"Of course. I only know how to tie a simple knot, but if that works for you—"

"Thank you, Koizumi!" Hiyoko leapt out of her chair and wrapped her arms around Mahiru. "You're the best!"

"Ah, you don't have to do that." Mahiru's nose wrinkled, but she hugged her back.

Ibuki nudged Hanako with one knee. "You know what they say about the world of girl love, right?"

"What?"

She winked. "It's slippery when wet."

Hanako tried for a laugh, though it sounded more like she was choking. She reached for her glass of water in a desperate attempt to hide her reddening cheeks.


Monomi appeared midway through breakfast to announce that she'd managed to open the gate to a new island. They walked across the bridge as a group (minus Mahiru and Hiyoko, who were dealing with the latter's kimono, and Fuyuhiko and Nagito, neither of whom had showed up to breakfast at all). The first thing that caught their eye was a tall building covered in vines. Chiaki immediately headed off in that direction as the others split up to investigate.

Hanako scrolled through the new map that had been added to her eHandbook.

"Those must be the ruins." She glanced up at the overgrown building. "There's also a library, a pharmacy… I wonder what they have in there."

Ibuki leaned an elbow on her shoulder. "Looking for something recreational?"

"You said it, not me," Hanako replied with a small smile. "And then there's a diner and a beach house."

"Let's hit the diner." She was standing so close, a strand of dyed hair blew over and tickled Hanako's neck. "Ibuki is starving."

"We, like, just had breakfast."

"I get hungry when I'm excited." She spread her arms as they began walking. "And our known universe just doubled in size."

Hanako shrugged. "I'll never say no to food."

They chatted about music on their way to the diner. It turned out Ibuki was writing a metal album—or had been planning on it, before they'd been whisked away to an island.

"If what Monokuma says is true about our memories being stolen, do you think it's possible you already wrote it and forgot?" Hanako asked.

"I dunno. I never forget a melody once it gets stuck in my head." Ibuki cringed. "Ugh, what if I already wrote the album and when I do it the second time it's not as good? When we get off the island, I'll already be outselling myself!"

Hanako laughed. "I mean, you could still take credit for it, right?"

"Yeah, but it would be like an alternate version of me. You ever read any of those time travel manga?"

Ibuki put it on their to-do list—apparently they had a to-do list now—to visit the library afterwards and look for the aforementioned manga. They crossed the eerily empty parking lot of the diner and stepped inside, a wave of cool air with a greasy scent sweeping across them.

They weren't alone. Fuyuhiko was sitting in one of the booths, a half-eaten hamburger in front of him. He looked up with a scowl when the door opened.

"What are you two bastards doing in here?"

"Getting something to eat," Hanako said, bristling at his tone. "You have a problem with that?"

His lip curled in a half-snarl. It made him look like a small, angry dog, but there was no mistaking the hostility in his eyes.

"You'd both better stay out of my fucking way."

"It's a diner, dude," she said. "You're not the owner—"

Ibuki grabbed her wrist before she could finish her sentence. "Hey, they have a jukebox in the back!"

Hanako let her pull her to the other end of the diner, keeping Fuyuhiko in her periphery. The jukebox was full of old American rock songs, and they spent a few minutes flipping through the menu for something good.

Ibuki poked at the buttons, but nothing happened. "Hey, what gives?"

"Maybe we need change." Hanako pointed at the coin slot on one side of the machine. "Remember those weird coins that go into the vending machine at the supermarket?"

"I don't have any pockets for coins. I used to keep all my change in my shoes." Without providing any context for that statement, she hopped onto one of the stools at the counter and spun in a circle. "So, how do we order food?"

"Is someone supposed to come out?" Hanako leaned on the counter next to her and examined the doors that presumably led to the kitchen. "Who makes the food in the restaurant?"

Ibuki shrugged. "It just shows up."

"Is it Monomi?" She made a face. "Or Monokuma?"

She stuck her tongue out. "Yuck, I don't want rabbit hair in my food."

"You make it yourselves, dumbasses."

They both turned around at the sound of Fuyuhiko's voice.

"Really?" Hanako's eyes slid down to the remainder of his burger. "Do you—"

"I'm not cooking for either of you." He stood up, leaving his uneaten food on the table, and stormed out of the diner.

"I wasn't going to ask him to make us anything," Hanako murmured. "I just wanted to know how a yakuza knows anything about flipping burgers."

Ibuki nudged her shoulder. "What toppings go on a yakuza burger?"

"Broken glass?"

The nudge turned into a shove. "Real ingredients. I think we should make one."

Hanako grinned. "Okay, let's get some chili oil."


It was late afternoon by the time they made it back to the first island. They'd barely made it past the hotel gate before Ibuki was dashing off towards her cottage—apparently inspiration had struck her for a song titled "Yakuza Burgers," and she wanted to write some lyrics down as soon as possible.

Hanako was both disappointed and relieved to see her go. Their day together had been the most fun she'd had since she'd come to the island. She hadn't really wanted it to end, and that scared her a little.

She retreated to her cottage and flopped down on the bed with a sigh. Her restless hands played with the hem of her shirt.

Ibuki liked her fries dipped in ice cream, but only if it was chocolate flavored. That was a fact that was just floating around her head now.

Fuck. I can't just lie here. I need to do something.

With a groan, she rolled out of bed and headed for the door. She pulled it open and stepped outside, nearly bumping into Hajime in the process.

He blinked in surprise. "Oh. Hi. I was just about to knock."

"Saved you the trouble." She glanced down at the pair of pink headphones he was holding. "What's up?"

He held out the headphones. "I thought you might like these."

Her eyebrows flew up. "Is this your way of getting me to not play my music out loud?"

"What? No." He glanced down at his offering. "I was trying to get a soda from the vending machine in the supermarket, and this fell out instead. I thought I'd give them to you."

What kind of vending machine has headphones? She definitely hadn't seen anything like that last time she'd been to the supermarket. Cautiously, she took the gift from him and inspected it. They seemed to be decent quality, which only made her more suspicious.

"Well, thanks." She hooked them over one finger and met his gaze. "What's the catch?"

His brow furrowed. "Catch?"

"You're not just giving these to me for free."

"If you don't like them, I can—"

"Hell no." She tightened her grip on the headphones. "These are cool. I just want to know what you want in return."

Hajime's frown deepened. "Nothing. It's just a gift. Not everything has to be some sort of transaction."

She searched his face. He seemed genuinely affronted by her insinuations, and guilt curled tight in her chest.

"Okay. Sorry." Before she could second-guess herself, she asked, "Do you…want to come in?"

"Sure."

She pushed off the doorframe and led the way inside. The headphones went in an empty space beside the CD player. She was itching to try them out, but it would have to wait.

Hajime was looking at the mess of illustrations and sketches plastered on the walls. "Did you do all of these?"

"Some. This one's from a couple days ago." She pointed to a collection of drawings of butterflies she'd seen at the park. "Most of these were already here when we first arrived."

"Huh. That's kind of creepy."

"Yeah. But I'm kind of glad all this stuff is here." She took a seat in the reclining chair and Hajime sat on the sofa. "It's actual professional equipment. I"m not just stuck doing S&P."

"S&P?" he echoed.

"Stick and poke. You just need a needle and ink and…" She mimed sticking something into her arm. "That was how I started out, but I prefer the gun nowadays." She showed him the little smiling cat face just above her elbow. "This was the first one I ever did. Had to touch it up because it started fading, but…" She blinked. "Fuck, sorry. I'm talking a lot."

"It's fine." He smiled slightly. "It's kind of interesting. I don't know much about tattoos."

"Yeah, well, most people our age don't. A lot of my clients are much older."

"Were your parents okay with you getting so many tattoos?"

Hanako pressed her lips together. The question usually annoyed her, but it didn't seem like Hajime meant it in a patronizing way. "Honestly, I don't think they care."

"Really?"

"Well, my dad skipped town before I was born, so he definitely doesn't give a shit."

"What about your mom?"

She picked at an imaginary piece of dirt beneath her fingernail. "I'm not even sure if she's noticed. She works a lot, so."

She traced the black bundle of ferns on her forearm, the first professional tattoo she'd ever gotten. She'd rolled up her sleeves and displayed it on the dining room table one evening. Her mother had only asked her to finish cleaning the dishes, then left for her night shift.

Hajime was looking at her with a thoughtful expression, and Hanako realized just how much she'd let spill. She barely knew this guy, but talking to him felt like chatting with an old friend. The thought made frustration flush through her, and she tried to hide it.

"So, what about you?"

"What do you mean?"

She waved a hand at her supplies. "Someone put all this stuff here because they knew about my talent. What's in your cottage?"

His eyes widened slightly before his expression fell. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I mean, I have a bed and TV and the other regular stuff, but I don't have anything that could tell me what my talent is."

"That is so weird." She chewed on her nail for a moment. "Maybe your talent is something that doesn't need physical stuff."

He frowned. "Like what?"

"Shit, I don't know. What kind of stuff do you like to do?"

Hajime shrugged. "Normal stuff. Video games. Reading."

"I mean, what are you passionate about? Having a talent means doing something that means a lot to you."

"Owari doesn't care much for gymnastics."

"Then if you don't even like your talent, what does it matter?"

He stared at her. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. What's the point of being good at something if you don't like it?"

"It still means you're good at something."

There was a small, wounded undercurrent in his voice, and Hanako bit her lip. She suddenly felt completely out of her depth with this conversation.

"Okay. You'll figure it out eventually."

By some unspoken agreement, they changed the subject to something lighter, more inconsequential.

It was much easier to talk about things that didn't matter at all.

I always felt kinda bad that everyone has personalized stuff in their cottage (or at least a bookshelf) and poor Hajime just has a shelf to put little statues of his captor.

Anyway, this chapter is titled after Something to Believe In, another Young the Giant song. Thank you all for reading!