Hopelessly Obsessed (KomaHina)

9: Rain

Nagito's POV:

As soon as I get home, the first thing I do is collapse on my bed. Today's session was exhausting. A large portion of it was trying to convince me that the last few months of recovery were worth it, but honestly, after all the professionals I've seen, the typical lines are losing their effect.

(CW: Mentions of disordered eating.)

I get that the person I was before starting treatment is so different to who I am now, but I can't help but focus on all the things I still can't do. It's true that a few months ago I barely ate anything because it didn't feel safe (which made me physically sick), and just walking a down a hallway was a difficult feat, I'm not denying that things are better now. But I can't help but notice how I'm still not a normal person who can do normal things. I'm still a complete freak. What can I say, I'm a pessimist.

(CW Over.)

I roll over on top of my bed to stare at the roof. The roof connects to the walls which connect to the floor which makes a room, and that room is connected to more walls that make a hallway that connects to more rooms. I've been staring at these rooves, walls and floors for my whole life. I've never lived in another house.

This room, this house used to be comforting. When my parents were here, at least. They loved me, they were kind to me even when no-one else was. Even when all those strange things kept happening around me. We really were a family. But...but I so selfishly killed them. Not matter what anyone says, it was my fault. Such a worthless piece of trash deserved all the horrible things that followed that event.

After that had happened, this place lost the homey feeling it used to have. It's so quiet now, too quiet. It's been years and I'm still not used to it. It feels so empty, and somewhat drained of colour. So many of the rooms haven't been used or cleaned in years. I kind of hate this place, but it also feels safe. In a messed-up way, it feels safe to be in a place where I can find traces that they were alive. So I know that they really did exist, they really did love me.

And I really did kill them.

Also, I don't really have anywhere else to hide from the world. And that voice. When its words become too much, the only thing I can do is crawl up on the floor or bed of my dark bedroom, close my eyes, cover my ears and wait for it to stop.

These melancholic thoughts and memories blend together with the rain outside. I didn't notice that it had started to rain, but the grey sky and dejected beat of the it fit the mood of the thoughts in my head.

Suddenly, a sound interrupts the dull rhythm of the rain. A soft ping of my phone. Checking the notification, I see it's just a stupid spam email, but I also spy a text from Hinata-kun. He must have sent it during my session today. I haven't spoken to him since the ice-cream incident, he probably thinks I'm crazy. Sighing, I open it.

Hinata: Hey, I'm sorry about yesterday. Are you okay?

What? He's sorry? Why is he sorry? I was the one who ran off silently and left him with the bill. The "Are you okay?" actually made me laugh a little. Ah yes, of course, Hinata-kun. Your classmate who can't walk through doorways, can't walk like a normal person and randomly starts crying and shaking is perfectly fine, thank you for asking. While I say that, I know that people usually mean well when they say that. And the thought that someone would actually talk to me again after that is...well...

Komaeda: You don't have to be sorry about anything.

I put my phone back down and engage in my meaningful pastime, staring at the roof some more, until I get a reply back. Which I was kind of dreading, to be honest.