A Time Away

When they’d still been trying to find their way out the wilderness, they’d talked about what they wanted to do once they arrived at the school. They’d talked about hot meals and hot showers and proper bedding and Komaeda had said, ‘I think I’d just like to stay in bed for a week and not do anything.’ And he’d turned to Hinata and said, ‘Hey, you’d wait on me then, right?’

It had been a joke. Hinata had thought it had been a joke. Except somehow their first night back had ended up like this – Hinata rushing around trying to get a tray ready, and get it back to the rooms before everything got cold.

‘You took a while, Hinata-kun,’ Komaeda said, when he let Hinata back in. He was still only wearing a robe after his shower. ‘I thought you weren’t coming.’

‘I said I would,’ Hinata said. He set the tray down on a table. It was a little disturbing the way the rooms had been laid out – the bed shaped like a love heart, made up with shiny red sheets. Hinata would rather have had a dorm room himself, but they’d all been claimed already.

Komaeda came over to pick at the food. ‘I guess you ate already,’ he said.

‘Not really. I’m still not very hungry.’

Komaeda paused, and Hinata wondered for a moment if he were going to insist Hinata share his dinner. Instead he shrugged, and kept on eating.

He’d left a brush on the bed, already matted thick – apparently he’d been trying to untangle the mess his hair had become.

Hinata picked up the brush – even that had a damn love heart on it – and sat on the bed. ‘You could just cut it off,’ he said.

‘Like you did? No, thank you.’

‘That was a while ago,’ Hinata said. He’d cut it when he decided not to be Kamukura any more. That short hair took less maintenance was just a pleasant side effect. ‘Don’t you have a comb?’

‘Somewhere,’ Komaeda said. He sounded a little testy. Maybe Hinata was supposed to have dropped off the food and disappeared. Like room service.

‘I’ll check.’

‘It’s alright, Hinata-kun,’ Komaeda said. Hinata ignored him, and went to search the bathroom.

He found a comb, and a number of other things besides. Whoever had stocked the bathrooms had certainly intended they be prepared. But he only needed the comb. For now.

Komaeda was frowning when he came out. ‘I think,’ he said, ‘that I can manage to do my own hair.’

Hinata twirled the comb in his fingers. He didn’t like to point out that Komaeda hadn’t got very far. ‘I’ll leave if you want,’ he said, and sat back down on the bed, the mattress giving under his weight.

Komaeda gave him an irritated look. Which wasn’t the same as telling him to go.

If he was honest, Hinata didn’t really want to be alone. He’d gotten too used to Komaeda’s presence, maybe. Or he just didn’t know what to do with himself, now that their survival wasn’t at stake. He could have been catching up with the others – that would probably have been the normal thing to do. Chat to Souda and find out what had happened while they’d been gone ...

Instead, he was waiting on Komaeda. Waiting for Komaeda.

Komaeda set the dinner tray aside. ‘I’m not sitting on the floor for this,’ he said.

Hinata stopped fiddling with the comb.

Komaeda sat beside him. He seemed to have relaxed a little, having eaten, the lines of his body gone languid. It just emphasised how exhausted he must be.

His hair was still damp from his shower. That would make combing it out easier, Hinata thought.

The bed wanted to push them together. Hinata sat on it higher, behind Komaeda, and he began the work of untangling Komaeda’s hair.

There was something restful about it. Occasionally Komaeda would protest if he pulled too hard, but he didn’t pull away. It was as peaceful as things ever were between them, and intimate, uncharged closeness.

It took almost two hours.

When he was done, he set aside the comb, and he ran his fingers through Komaeda’s hair instead. It fell smoothly through his fingers, without pulling. Komaeda had gone quiet, his breathing as soft and even as if he’d fallen asleep.

‘All done,’ Hinata said. And stayed sitting where he was, his legs against Komaeda’s back.

‘You didn’t have to do that,’ Komaeda said. Awake after all.

‘I didn’t mind.’ What else had he been going to do with his evening? Other people were still overwhelming. Their attention was a heavy weight. Komaeda’s attention was a weight, but it was one he could bear.

‘You shouldn’t ...’ Komaeda drifted off. ‘It can’t last.’

‘No, but it won’t get nearly as bad again,’ Hinata said, as if Komaeda were still talking about his hair. Komaeda darted a look back at him, annoyed, and Hinata conceded to ask, ‘What can’t last?’

‘If you’re so nice to me,’ Komaeda said. ‘We’ll have to pay for it somehow.’

‘I’m not worried about your luck.’

He felt Komaeda go tense beside him, and he laid his head against Komaeda’s shoulder. He smelt nice. Clean.

‘If you don’t want me here,’ Hinata said, ‘you can tell me to go.’ But he thought Komaeda wanted him here. Wanted him altogether. ‘You can blame me if something terrible happens. It’s my choice.’

The terrible things that had happened to Hinata hadn’t been luck, they had been choices. Inasmuch as that was a kind of luck itself, he thought it would hold.

‘You can say that,’ Komaeda said. ‘I’ll be the one left behind. And it’s not as if someone like me deserves your attention anyway, so it’s better if you ...’ He was trying to convince himself.

Hinata was tired, and his body was heavy and warm. ‘Even if I agreed,’ he said, ‘I don’t think I could be bothered.’

‘... what?’

‘Your luck didn’t hurt me, Komaeda. It just forced me to be alone with you for two weeks.’

‘Well ...’

‘Even if I tried ignoring you, something like that would happen. So maybe –’ he took a breath – ‘just stop fighting.’

He heard Komaeda’s throat catch, and he lifted his head again. To see his face.

Komaeda’s eyelashes were wet. ‘I’m not trying to fight it,’ he said.

‘Aren’t you?’

Komaeda wouldn’t meet his eyes.

‘Tell me you want me to go.’

‘Of course I don’t want you to go,’ Komaeda said, in a burst, as if he were angry. ‘I never want you to go. Even if you’re not anyone special and even if –’ he held his palm to his eyes – ‘even if you hate me or you’ll end up hating me or I’ll end up hating you, I never want you to go.’

Silently, Hinata put his arms around Komaeda’s back.

‘But you can’t mean you actually want to stay,’ Komaeda said.

Hinata closed his eyes, his lashes tracing Komaeda’s skin. ‘I just spent two hours brushing your hair.’

And Komaeda couldn’t argue with that.