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Sleep deprivation was not a new experience for Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu.
It first came about as a child, when he began to pick up the family trade. Working well under pressure meant becoming used to such stressful things as lack of sleep. Keeping a level head through it all had always been the hardest for him—though having Peko nearby had always helped.
It stayed with him throughout his time at Hope’s Peak. Exams, classes, then his sister. His sister, whom he failed. Decent sleep became something of a novelty, following the grief of the funeral and taking up the role as the clan’s sole heir.
And then… then the world becomes a blur, one that swirls in his mind in an effort to replace one another. Sometimes he catches glimpses of Chiaki Nanami, sometimes he’s in the trial room, refusing to speak against Peko. One life melded with another, but despite it all, he did not allow himself to fall.
Sleep was terrifying, after. Those were the moments his mind ran rampant and his mental shields fell, allowing the despair to slip through. Dozing led to cold sweats, lying down in darkness led to thoughts that swirled and swirled and tried to sink him permanently.
No, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu was not a stranger to sleep deprivation.
“Hinata?”
Bleary eyes, tense shoulders, a frown, feet pausing in their pacing down the hall. “Yeah?”
Which is why he thought it rather easy to spot it in others.
Kazuichi, Sonia, Akane, Hajime and himself. They were all battling their own demons. There was nothing to do besides visit that room filled with quiet bodies, listen to the waves striking the shores, and think. Some of them handled it better than others, of course—but not even he looked like Hajime currently did.
Dark, dark circles underneath dull eyes. The skin around the scars, right next to his hairline, slightly red. He looked thinner, and Fuyuhiko couldn’t remember seeing Hajime at any of their meals lately.
“What’s going on with you?”
He looked dead. The man that pulled himself and the rest of them from the brink of despair held himself with heavy shoulders and sunken eyes and looked dead.
“Nothing?” Hajime sounds irritable. Sarcastic. Fuyuhiko presses his lips together, and Hajime huffs. “Sorry. I’m… coping.”
Badly, Fuyuhiko tacks on.
He looks Hajime over and shakes his head. “When’s the last time you ate? You’ve been avoiding everyone.”
“Ate yesterday,” he answers as if he didn’t realize it was already mid afternoon. “I just… need some space. That’s it. Really.”
“Hinata—“
“Kuzuryu, really.” He smiles, a barely stitched together upturn of his lips, and something in Fuyuhiko’s chest clenched tight at the sight. “I’m fine.”
Fuyuhiko could argue. He could drag this out as long as he needed to. But he sighs, shakes his head, and speaks as commandingly as he can muster.
“Damnit, have you even slept ? C’mon, we’re going back to your room.”
“No.”
The smile is gone, and if Fuyuhiko is reading him right, panic settles into his eyes.
“Why not? You look like you’re about to fall right into your own grave, Hinata.”
“I— no. I don’t—“
“You really fuckin’ do.” Fuyuhiko crosses his arms and stands his ground, even if he does have to look up. He does miss his other eye, considering he can’t glance down the hall to his right anymore. “Hinata, what’s going on?”
“Kuzuryu, I said it’s nothing—“
“If you don’t tell me right the fuck now, I’m gonna get Sonia and Owari on your ass and you’re going to be interrogated wether you like it or not.”
“Like you’re not interrogating me right now?” Hajime snaps. He turns away. He turns away, head down and shoulders hunched and Fuyuhiko’s heart jumps in panic. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you, so just—“
He stops. He stops the moment Fuyuhiko takes his hand, desperately, tightly holding on. He doesn’t look lift his head, but his back straightens.
“Don’t fucking walk away from me.”
Fuyuhiko knows that his voice gives away the shaking of his arms, if his hand trembling slightly around Hajime’s didn’t. He was… angry. Angry and frustrated and—and all at once scared.
I can’t let him out of reach.
Not again. Never again.
“... Kuzu—“
“Just call me Fuyuhiko.” He snaps. His grip only tightens. He opens his mouth to say something else. Snaps it closed and growls in frustration. He needs to calm down.
“Fuyuhiko…” Hinata says it slowly, getting used to the syllables. “... why do you want to know so badly?”
Because I don’t want to lose you, too.
He takes a deep breath. “You can’t do everything alone, Hinata. You should know that.”
“What if it’s something I need to do alone?”
“Bullshit,” Fuyuhiko snaps at him. “Not when you’re killing yourself trying.”
Hajime falls silent. Fuyuhiko still hasn’t let go of his hand.
“... Don’t freak out?”
“I’m not gonna fuckin’ freak out.”
Hajime snorts. Is quiet for a few seconds. Takes a shuddering breath.
“He’s still there.”
Fuyuhiko’s brow furrows.
“Kamukura.”
Oh.
“Fuck.”
“You said you wouldn’t—“
Fuyuhiko tugs at Hajime’s hand and pulls him around to finally face him. Fuyuhiko looks at both of Hajime’s eyes and yeah, yeah that would make sense. They didn’t know all the details, of course, but Fuyuhiko knew enough.
“You’re not him.”
Hajime just laughs, hollow and tired.
“Hinata—“
“We’re the same person, Fuyuhiko.” Hajime mutters. “He was made from me.”
“Hajime Hinata and Izuru Kamukura are not the same person.” He repeats. Both of Hajime’s eyes are much too dark. “You wouldn’t do the things he did.”
“It was me, Fuyuhiko.” Hajime argues, whispers, accepting and terrified. “It was me. It was me that hurt people, me that worked with her, me that put that fucking memory drive in the simulation—“
“It wasn’t you.”
Don’t you dare say it was your fault.
“You wouldn’t hurt anybody.”
“I didn’t care anymore, Fuyuhiko.” Hajime reaches up and rubs at the scars. Harshly. “I didn’t care, I just didn’t want to be useless. I let them do it, and I keep remembering it all and—“
“Hinata.”
“You can’t say it wasn’t me. It was me, just a me that didn’t care.”
“I know how you feel.”
Hajime stops talking.
“We all do. We all did the same thing, you know. She got into our heads and made us that way.” He explains it, because Hajime needs to hear it. “I keep remembering hurting. It hurt so much I just wanted it to stop, but—but because of her, I just wanted everyone to feel that way.”
“F-Fuyu—“
“That wasn’t me.” Fuyuhiko growls. “I don’t give a damn if it was my body or not. It wasn’t me.”
It pisses him off, every time he thinks about it. That someone could control him so thoroughly.
“You’re not Izuru Kamukura. I don’t give a damn if he’s still knocking around your head. You’re Hajime.”
The one I care about is Hajime.
“So let me help, goddamnit,” he can’t stop the break in his voice. “I refuse to lose anyone else. I won’t lose you.”
He admits it to himself. Fear wells up inside of him, a constant thrum of too little, too late, that hasn’t left him since Peko’s execution.
He can’t just assume someone will understand him. He can’t just… stay quiet, anymore. If he doesn’t say it now, then he’ll never say it, and before he knows it the people he cares about will be gone.
“I love you. So. So don’t give up.”
He lets go of Hajime’s hand. Looks away from his wide eyes. Now really wasn’t the time for it, but he could deal with it now that he’d admitted it. He could—
Hajime hugs him.
Arms wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, gripping desperately at his shirt as Hajime’s face drops into his hair, his deep breaths tickling his scalp. Fuyuhiko remains still.
“I’m scared, Fuyuhiko.”
And then he wraps his arms around Hajime’s back.
“I don’t want to disappear again. He keeps talking and coming back and I don’t want to disappear again.”
“You won’t,” Fuyuhiko tightens his grip. “I won’t let you, Hajime.”
“I love you, too.” Fuyuhiko’s heart skips a beat. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m tougher than I look, you know.”
Hajime shakes his head. Another deep breath.
“Don’t go.”
“I won’t.”
Never again.