inconsistent inc.

He’d hoped that maybe today, of all days, he’d get something different from the usual crap in his inbox. Some words of encouragement, a nice girl who he might actually have a chance with, or something. But no... why should he expect anything different? Everything in his inbox is par for the course. He’s obviously not going to get any sympathy from his followers, no matter what hell he’s currently living through. All they’re interested in is toying with him.

Lesbians stringing him along, making him think he has a chance, only to reveal that they were laughing at him all along with a girl hanging on their arm—something he’ll never have. Gay men acting like his hygiene is something to be self-conscious about, saying such... disgusting things to him just talking about his normal habits. As if he’d ever be interested in such perverted things! Nonbinary and bisexual people trying to confuse him, making him think something is okay, only to sweep the rug out from under his feet.

They’re all cruel, awful, depraved people. He doesn’t know why he keeps posting.

Well... he knows why. But no matter how much he tries, no matter how many asks he answers, he’s never going to get any of what he wants. Someone like him will never going to be accepted or cared about by anyone. But he can’t help but keep posting. All he can do to survive this living hell is try to keep filling that gaping hole inside of him with any kind of attention.

It... got a lot of attention last night...

“Damn it.” He chokes back a strange sound, something between wretching and sobbing, and clicks on his next ask. “Damn it! What the hell is Princess Celestia?”

And do I really have to ask Komaeda?

If it really is gay slang, that homo would know about it. Not that Hajime wants to know or understand anything gay! Nor does he want to talk to Komaeda at all. Not after... after last night.

Last night was an accident. He was manipulated into it. It didn’t count. He refuses to think about it. And if he doesn’t think about it, then it doesn’t mean anything.

Of course, despite everything, Komaeda... well, he is still Hajime’s friend. The only person who tolerates his presence. And it’s not really his fault that he’s gay, he supposes. Komaeda can’t help himself. But he could’ve kept his perverted activities to himself. He didn’t have to pull Hajime into depravity along with him! If he really cared about Hajime, he wouldn’t do such terrible things to him. But with his seductive, homosexual ways, he had so easily pulled Hajime into temptation.

He doesn’t want to remember any of it.

But he can’t help it. He can’t stop thinking about it... everything that happened, and Komaeda, with his soft voice, and his smile that always calms him down even when he doesn’t want it to, and his soft yet calloused touch, and the way he whispered...

Damn it.

He needs to go for a walk and clear his head.

That anon had told him to ask Komaeda what that thing was, right? As if Hajime would actually do that. But... if he happens to bump into Komaeda, maybe he’ll ask him, just to get that anon off his back.

With another sob-wretch, he slams the laptop lid shut hard enough that he’d be afraid the screen had cracked if he wasn’t too miserable to care. Nanami would get mad at him if she had seen him do that. Mistreating technology is something that she can’t forgive. But it doesn’t matter. She isn’t here to see his childish tantrums.

...He can’t remember the last time he’d thought about her. He used to think about her non-stop, but now...

He tries to recall his dreams of her as he painfully stands up, closing the door of his cottage behind him as he steps out into the torrential downpour outside. His innocent dreams of giving her a sweet kiss on the cheek as they’d sit side by side, Gamecube controllers in hand, Mario and Peach in their shared kart on the screen. He’d throw the items as she drove the kart, and they’d leave everybody that dared to challenge them in the dust. A beautiful boyfriend and girlfriend gaming team that everyone else would be jealous of.

Komaeda had shattered all those dreams.

Hajime never got to have an innocent first kiss with Nanami. His first kiss was sloppy and disgusting and passionate and stolen by Komaeda. And he can’t stop thinking about how it felt. How... it would feel to do it again...

Great. Now he’s soaking wet now...

Just from the rain, of course! It hadn’t stopped the whole time he was hiding in the restaurant. Of course, it’s only fitting. It reflects the inner turmoil and anguish in his devastated heart.

He doesn’t want do any of that gay stuff with Komaeda again. So why does he keep thinking about it?

He was just traumatized. That’s all. Traumatized by a horrible accident. If he avoids Komaeda, then another accident like that will never happen again.

So why is he going to talk to him again now?

It’s only because... because that anon told him to. There’s no other reason for it.

(He’s so lonely.)

He’s in front of his own door now. Hajime had run away in terror as soon as he’d woken up this morning, leaving Komaeda behind, still asleep in bed. Hopefully he got the hint that he was no longer welcome once he woke up and got the hell out of Hajime’s cottage. But... Hajime can’t shake the feeling that it won’t be that simple.

Swallowing back his nausea, he slowly opens the door with shaking hands, peeking through the crack.

His eyes slowly adjust to the indoor light, blinking slowly.

Komaeda is still in bed. In Hajime’s bed.

His eyes are closed, his hair spread out across the pillow. Specks of warm early afternoon sunlight break through the closed blinds. They play gently across him, his hair softly glowing as if his head was crowned with a halo. His skin is the same, warm and lovely in the sunlight, his bare shoulder just barely peeking out from above the blankets.

Hajime’s heart throbs. A fear response, no doubt.

Komaeda... looks so peaceful. So... ethereal.

So oblivious to the damage he’s done to Hajime’s fragile soul.

He swallows.

Whatever. If Komaeda’s still sleeping even this late, then Hajime should take his chance to escape, and just hide out in the restaurant again as long as he can. He can’t even remember what he was supposed to ask Komaeda, so it must not have been important. He’ll come back later, once he’s absolutely sure Komaeda is gone, and he’ll do the laundry for once just so he doesn’t have to smell Komaeda’s scent all over the blankets.

Now’s his chance.

But... he’s frozen in place. He can’t stop looking at him. Staring at someone helplessly sleeping and unaware that he’s there like some kind of disgusting pervert.

...Is he one?

He can’t be. He’s... he’s just an ordinary guy. Just a normal masculine man who likes girls. He’s nothing like all of his followers. Nothing like Komaeda.

But... if all that is true, then why can’t he tear his eyes away?

And if Komaeda isa filthy pervert, then why is he able to look so peaceful as he sleeps? It’s as if he’s not ashamed at all.

Does he sleep so peacefully because he knows that Hajime can’t take his eyes off of him? Is he basking in that knowledge that he is the centre of someone’s attention, that someone can’t get him off their mind?

It... would be nice if someone thought about Hajime half as much as he thinks about Komaeda. It would be nice if someone couldn’t tear their eyes away from Hajime, too. But even though he has people who say they want him online, he knows they can’t mean it. They only want a toy to play with and then cast away when they grow tired of it. There’s nobody who loves him for who he really is.

But even after all he’s said to Komaeda, even after everything he’s tried to do to push him away...

Komaeda never abandons him. He never stops smiling at him. Even in his sleep, he smiles so softly.

Why? What’s wrong with him? Even after after everything Hajime’s done to him, why doesn’t Komaeda leave him?

Komaeda’s got to be some kind of sex pervert, like a masochist or something...

But... at least if he is, then that means he’ll never leave...

Ugh. Ugh, no... he can’t start thinking like that. He can’t encourage Komaeda. The guy might love hope, but he needs to know there’s no hope for Hajime to ever like him that way. He’s not that kind of person. He and Komaeda are nothing alike...

“Hinata-kun?”

He nearly screams, flying backwards from Komaeda’s face, from those curious grey-green eyes gazing upwards into his. He hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten. Even after jerking backwards, though, he’s still only a few feet away. He should run out of the room altogether, but he wasn’t even brave enough to get up from off the bed.

“I didn’t think you’d come back. Were you worried about me?” Komaeda speaks again, laughing a little as he stretches, arching his back in the bed in a way that he has to know is lewd. “I’m sorry if I made you feel anxious! I must have really tired myself out last night. How are you feeling?”

“I wasn’t worried.” The words come out stiffly, and yet, he doesn’t back away. “And I’m doing bad.”

“Oh? Well, you have to understand that it was only my second time, so I’m still woefully inexperienced. I’m sure I’ll get to know your body much better in the future, so I can make it much more pleasant for you! Even someone as talentless as me can improve with practice.” Komaeda shifts again, the blanket slipping a little further down his shoulder. He’s not making any move to get up, as if he’s perfectly comfortable staying here even longer. “This is a little sooner than I expected, so I apologize if my stamina is lacking! But we can take it slow. It’s much more romantic that way, so I don’t mind at all.”

“I don’t want romantic.” His voice is shaking pathetically. “I don’t want anything like that.”

“Oh?” Komaeda’s eyes widen in surprise—it’s disgusting how cute he looks when he makes that kind of face. “But then, why did you come here, Hinata-kun?”

...Why did he come?

Because... because he was lonely. Because he feels sick and awful and disgusting all the time, with or without Komaeda around. And... at least he knows Komaeda will still be here, no matter what he does. Because he wants to understand why.

“I just... wanted to know why you were still here.”

Komaeda blinks, those stupid long eyelashes fluttering in a way that Hajime wishes he could dismiss as seductive, but which he knows is completely innocent. As if he has no idea what Hajime is asking. “Well... because I was still asleep—”

“That’s not what I meant.” The words come out choked, painful. “I mean... why you still keep talking to me. All the things I said to you before... didn’t any of them hurt? I... I don’t know why you’re still here. I don’t know why you keep trying. You should just give up on me.”

Just like everyone else has.

He can’t look Komaeda in the eye. Now that he’s said it out loud, he... he can’t bear to see Komaeda take the chance to reject him. Maybe he’s just been going after him out of pity all this time. But now that Hajime’s said it this plainly... he’d have to be an idiot to not leave him...

“Hinata-kun...”

He freezes as Komaeda’s hand reaches up, brushing soft against his cheek, pulling him closer to play with his still-wet hair. “Ahaha... Hinata-kun, you’re so wet.”

“Th-the hell...? Don’t... don’t say perverted stuff like that. It’s only because... because it’s pouring rain outside.”

He should pull away. He should run away again back through that pouring rain. But he can’t. He’s helpless, staring down into Komaeda’s soft gaze.

“And even so, you came back through that pouring rain, and through that fear in your heart.” Komaeda’s voice is a murmur. The way his thumb strokes so gently against Hajime’s cheekbone does something awful to him. “I think Hinata-kun is very brave. Even if your feelings give us both despair at times, the way you always come back... I think it would be foolish to give up hope because of that.”

“I’m not brave.” He despises the tears in his eyes. “If I was really brave, I’d... I’d leave this place. Nobody here cares about me. No one would care if I was gone. And then I’d... I wouldn’t have to deal with feeling like this anymore.”

“Feeling like what, Hinata-kun?” His words are almost a whisper—so soft that Hajime wouldn’t be able to hear them, if their faces weren’t nearly touching.

Feeling... plagued by these thoughts. Feeling like he’s going crazy trying not to think about them, about how truly disgusting he is, how he wants to blame it all on Komaeda, but he can’t, because... because he can’t stop himself from... from...

...from letting Komaeda pull him down against him, their lips meeting, fitting together so naturally, as though... it was perfectly okay to do something like this.

Last night had felt different than this. It was frantic, as if... as if Komaeda was trying to express whatever was in his heart as quickly as he could, before Hajime could get the chance to run in terror. This... this is slower, and gentler, as if Komaeda knows he can take more time with it, slowly exploring every part of him, as if he trusts that Hajime won’t run away.

But he has to run away. He can’t stay, he can’t let something like this...!

A horrible, awful, lewd sound escapes him as Komaeda latches onto his lower lip, sucking gently, pulling him even closer, until Hajime is basically pinning him down onto the bed. But even if he’s above Komaeda right now, he has no control. He’s not choosing to move even closer, to move his mouth just so Komaeda has perfect access to do as he wishes.

He’s so pathetic, so helpless. This is a truly awful situation, and yet, he does nothing to escape it. He needs to run away. But... but if only he could turn off his brain, and just... feel nothing but Komaeda. If only he could do that, if only he could get rid of everything holding him back, then it would feel so horribly good. It’s as though Komaeda knows exactly what to do to drive him insane, exactly what will make Hajime hopelessly dependent on him.

Helpless, he finally lets his eyes fall closed. He... he can’t do anything about this. He’s addicted, and he doesn’t know what to do.

“You’re... you’re doing so good, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda’s voice is soft and raspy in his ears, whispered between kisses. “I... really am happy. I... I love...”

That word breaks through the fevered haze in his mind.

He... he can’t finish saying that.

Hajime can’t let him.

With a gasp, Hajime breaks away, shaking, dropping to the floor beside the bed. “Don’t... don’t finish that thought. Don’t say... gay stuff like that. We’re... we’re just friends. Don’t... Don’t...!”

What was he just doing?

He’s not gay. Why did he... how did he make this mistake again?

He tries not to notice the disappointment in those stupid pretty eyes, the way those lips he was just kissing are now drawn into a thin, pained smile. “Haha... I should have realized I was pushing Hinata-kun too hard.”

“P-pushing me to what? To... to be a pervert like you? I’m nothing like you...! I...” Desperate, he shoves his hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone with a shaking hand. He can’t keep this locked up inside. He has to confess his shame to the world.

With clumsy fingers, he types out his shameful confession.

We made out.

He presses the post button, and collapses, face planted in the mattress. He feels sick with shame, but at least he owned up to his mistakes. He’ll never do something like this again, because he’s not gay!

It doesn’t matter how sad Komaeda looks, or how much he...

How much he...