A/N: Guest: You'll get to see her reaction to learning the news eventually :)

DaManWoFear: She will not be encountering her classmates while they're Despairs. There are just too many problems with it—complications with the canon timeline, Izuru slipping up enough for them to even find them in the first place, Chiaki not insisting on trying to keep them around to help, etc. That's not to say she won't learn of them being Despairs, or what they've done, but she won't run into them for the time being.

Guest #2: No gifts necessary! Though reviews are nice :P

The next morning, Chiaki woke up with her stomach loudly making complaints about how empty it was. Attempting to push herself up so she could get out of bed proved fruitless; her arms quaked beneath her, then collapsed. Her second and third tries were no more successful and left her back at square zero—lying on her bed hungry and unable to do a thing about it.

As she was pondering how to solve this, the door opened and Kamukura-kun stepped inside, a plate of food in his hands. Chiaki's stomach gurgled longingly as the appetizing smell wafted towards her. Unable to lift her upper body, she settled for craning her neck to try and see what was on it.

"You will not be able to stand or walk for a while," he stated as he took the chair next to her bed, somehow guessing exactly what she'd been trying to do. He set the plate down on his knees, and the Ultimate Gamer's mouth watered as the food entered view. He'd brought her the traditional Japanese breakfast of grilled fish, miso soup and rice. It looked as divine as it smelled. "Weeks, at least."

At that moment Chiaki wouldn't have cared if she never walked again. She just wanted that food, and she eagerly reached for it, forgetting that nothing was working like she was used to. Her arm lifted barely a few inches before thumping against the bed. Her fingers twitched, the digits useless, and she let out a frustrated noise.

"Your muscles have atrophied during your coma," Kamukura-kun explained as he started slicing the fish. "I did what I could to lessen the effects, but some decay was inevitable. You lack the muscular strength, mobility, and fine motor control for even the most basic of activities. So I will be assisting you."

"Ah, you really don't have to—"

He cut her off by bringing a piece of salmon to her mouth, clearly expectant. Looking at the chopsticks as they hovered in the air, Chiaki thought about trying to take them, but quickly rejected the idea; it took everything she had to keep her fingers around her hairpin. She'd never manage to hold the utensils. Slowly, trying not to feel guilty about being so helpless he had to do things for her, she murmured her thanks and parted her lips.

Her eyes popped open in surprise as the flavors exploded onto her tongue. Oh my god he's got maxed out cooking. The salmon was grilled to perfection, drizzled in soy sauce and garnished with daikon. It was as incredible as Hanamura-kun's food, maybe even better. "Did you make this?" she exclaimed, shame forgotten, eagerly opening her mouth and leaning forward for another bite.

He placed the next morsel in her mouth, barely withdrawing the chopsticks before she snapped it shut and chewed. "Yes."

"It's delicious!"

The rice and soup were equally as exquisite, and at the end of the meal she leaned back against the pillows with a content sigh. Trying to sit up caused her entire body to tremble, but it felt good to be even a little vertical. She watched Kamukura-kun eat his own portion; unlike her, he didn't seem to relish the food, mechanically moving it towards his mouth without a change in expression.

Minutes ticked by in silence. Now that her belly was satisfied, Chiaki became aware of another pressing need. Fidgeting slightly, she glanced at Kamukura-kun, who had just finished his breakfast. "Um…could you help me get to the bathroom?"

She'd been expecting him to offer his shoulder to lean on as she tried to stumble around. What she wasn't prepared for was for him to scoop her up effortlessly and set off down the hall. Chiaki gasped in alarm, fingers automatically trying to dig into his shirt for purchase. She could feel the warmth of his skin through his clothes; with his demeanor, she'd almost expected him to be cold.

They went down a flight of stairs. He somehow opened what must have been the bathroom door without dropping her. The pink-haired girl barely caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror—frightfully thin and pale—before Kamukura-kun carried her past it and set her down on the toilet. She shifted uncomfortably, waiting for him to leave. He did not, and with a hot surge of mortification she realized why: he was going to have to help her.

Chiaki refused to look anywhere near Kamukura-kun throughout the process, face burning as she kept her eyes on the ceiling and tried to play Gala Omega in her head.

When that embarrassing set of business was over, he brought her back to her room and helped her into a clean nightgown. She did ask for regular clothes, but he informed her it was easier to do physical therapy in something loose-fitting. At least the gown had a little breast pocket for her to keep her hairpin in.

It was also now that she saw her new scars for the first time, staring down at her skin as it was revealed. Her body was covered in them; some looked like they'd come from surgery, and some looked like knife slashes, but her eyes ran over the small, round ones in confusion. What could leave injuries like that? Was I shot? Did I run from the knife and they decided to switch? They must have had bad aim, to keep missing my vitals… She almost wanted to ask Kamukura-kun about it, but wondered if she was just better off not knowing. There had to be a reason her brain forgot about the event, after all.

Then, picking her back up, Kamukura-kun brought her back downstairs to start the therapy.

It began with him wrapping his long fingers around her forearm and stating only one thing. "Stop me from lifting this."

Easy, right? The sort of thing she could do without thinking. But she suddenly couldn't muster up any resistance, and he brought her arm up effortlessly. Chiaki frowned. "Let me try again."

The second time, she also failed to stop him. And the third, fourth, tenth times. Forget lead; her limbs may as well have been made of butter.

They did this for a few minutes, then went through the whole thing again with her other arm, then both her legs. Then shoulder shrugs, which were easier; sitting up for long periods; stretches; squeezing one of those squishy stress balls she'd always privately thought Kuzuryu-kun could have used; and other exercises she wouldn't even have considered. When it was over she was so tired she just fell right back asleep, right there on the living room floor. She woke up to find a blanket over her and smell food cooking in the kitchen.

And so that was how that first week—and she only knew it was a week because Kamukura-kun told her so—went. Chiaki felt like a baby, spending most of her time asleep and needing assistance for everything during her waking moments. Bathing, combing her hair, brushing her teeth, there was nothing she could do alone. It was depressing, to wake up one day and find that she'd gone from functional human being to invalid.

That first day set her schedule. When she woke, Kamukura-kun brought up breakfast from the first floor. After she'd eaten he helped her go to the bathroom, then changed her into a clean gown and brought her downstairs. In the living room, he would put her through her physical rehab for most of the morning. They'd stop for lunch, then she spent the afternoon napping while he did…whatever he usually did. She'd wake up for dinner, after which there'd be a bit more therapy, then he brought her back up to get ready for bed. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Throughout this Chiaki got to see the rest of where they were living. It was a typical five-room house—dining room/kitchen, bathroom, living room, and two upstairs bedrooms. While Chiaki did have a wheelchair, it stayed on the first floor; Japanese homes didn't really have room to build ramps from the second floor to the first, so Kamukura-kun carried her up and down the narrow stairs each time. The place was nice, but to her it seemed a bit sad. Empty, almost. There was a distinct lack of city sounds and smells, and Chiaki guessed they were somewhere in the countryside. She couldn't confirm, though, as there was one thing that set this place apart from a regular house—Kamukura-kun always kept the windows curtained shut.

At the end of the week he handed her a Game Girl Advance, and Chiaki almost shrieked in joy.

"You are not to neglect your therapy for this," he stated, eyes narrowed as he watched her eagerly flick it on. The prompt for a new game flashed on the screen, which was to be expected; her old games had probably been sent back to her parents by the Academy. "Only play them in your free time, not when you're supposed to be exercising."

"I will, I will," she promised distractedly, already lost to the wonderful world of Pokémon Emerald. "Thank you so much!"

'Free time' was really only during meals and the little she could stay awake before succumbing to sleep. But soon enough, her internal clock had reoriented itself, and her hours started to look like a normal person's. Chiaki found that she slept less during the afternoons, and her precious games ate up her little free time. Figuring out how to play with her limited range of movement was a bit of a challenge; she had a hard time holding the console, but she quickly discovered she could play just by resting it on her lap. Stabbing the buttons didn't require much dexterity, after all.

While her games did distract her for a while, they didn't prevent her from turning one question over in her mind—namely, who Kamukura-kun was. It wasn't that Chiaki didn't trust him, she did, she just didn't know how to start connecting to him. He seemed almost inhuman in how still and quiet he was. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. So she almost tiptoed around him, while he seemed content just to watch her do so. When they talked, it was only questions on her end and short, blunt answers on his, or else verbal instructions from him and acknowledgments from her, or those bland 'good morning' 'thank you for the meal' exchanges.

Chiaki knew she was being selfish. She owed it to Kamukura-kun to know him more. She owed it to Hinata-kun to find out what had happened to him. But she wasn't ready for that yet. It was strange, to spend a year wondering, then not want to take the answers once they were in reach. Because she could see how different Kamukura-kun was, and she so did not want 'dead' to mean dead. She existed in a limbo, unable to pretend Kamukura-kun was who she'd known before yet equally unable to accept Hinata-kun might be gone.

It couldn't go on like this forever, she also knew. She could ask other questions, avoid the elephant in the room, but sooner or later she would have to face it.

She only hoped she would be strong enough to endure the answers, when she asked for them.

"Kamukura-kun?"

His head angled slightly towards her, a gesture she'd learned was his acknowledgement of her calling his name. It had now been about two weeks since her awakening. They'd finished another physical rehab session, and the muscles in her limbs burned almost painfully. But she'd managed to keep her arm firmly on the mat, which she felt absurdly proud of, and she was able to sit up without leaning on something. They'd be trying standing next, as well as holding objects.

She was resting against the wall behind her, watching as he typed something into his laptop on the other side of the room. It seemed he was always on that or his phone when he wasn't helping her. Chiaki was a bit curious what he did on it, and made a mental note to ask him later.

"Will you tell me what happened to you now? I mean, I know you say you aren't Hinata-kun, but I'm still not entirely sure how…" She made a fruitless gesture in his direction with her arm. "Well, how you happened."

She'd slowly begun getting a clearer picture of how things were. Her friends had graduated, then faked their deaths—something to do with Hope's Peak shutting down? He'd been frustratingly vague about that. Yukizome-sensei had apparently gone back to working with her boyfriend. Now she was out of ways to stall; the only way to progress the story was to bite the bullet. While she hadn't forgotten about his scarce hints as to the world's state, she'd just…decided it wasn't important at the moment. It was hard to worry about what might have happened to the world when you couldn't even feed yourself. And frankly, if she wasn't ready for the truth of Kamukura-kun's connection to Hinata-kun, there was no way she'd be ready for the truth of whatever happened to the world.

He was silent, and she tried to determine whether this was one of his 'I'm silent because I'm not going to answer' silences, or one of his 'I'm silent because I'm just taking my time responding' silences. He was so taciturn it could have been either, really.

Evidently, it was the latter this time. In his usual monotone, he began, "To gain entrance to the Reserve Course, one must normally pay an extortionate amount of money. However, Hinata's parents could not afford the tuition fees, so he was instead allowed in on a special scholarship. In exchange for being permitted to attend, he would need to comply with a certain, secret project when the board was ready."

Chiaki already didn't like where this was going. Secret projects never ended well in video games. A stone had dropped in her belly, and she shifted, feeling dread and uncertainty well up within her. Still, she forced herself to pay attention.

"Eventually, the time came for him to pay his dues or drop out of the Reserve Course entirely. He chose the former, and so the Kamukura Project began. Over the course of the next six months, all traces of Hinata's personality, memories, emotions, thoughts, and hobbies were systematically erased. This was so the scientists could pour every talent they could into the vessel, creating me.

"After my 'birth', I was put through various tests of my abilities. The result was as they'd expected—they had successfully manufactured a perfectly talented genius. And for one such as I, who is loved by talent, the title of 'Ultimate Hope' and the name of the Academy's founder were bequeathed unto me." Kamukura-kun fell silent, apparently finished.

Chiaki felt sick to her stomach. What he was talking about, was—human experimentation. Lobotomy. It was something straight out a horror game, except it was real life. She could scarcely believe her school, the school everyone looked up to, had been engaged in such activities, but there was living proof right in front of her. She brought a fist up to her mouth, holding back the bile.

That last time she saw Hinata-kun—had he been ready to go meet with the board and start the project? He must have. His last words to her had practically screamed death flag, for goodness' sake. Why hadn't she seen that he was about to do something rash, that he was saying goodbye? As his best friend, she should have known, somehow… I failed him.

Her next thought wasn't much better. If I'd told him how much he meant to me, would he have gone through with it? Could I have stopped him? This was why real life needed save files, so she could go back and reload and fix everything. The Ultimate Gamer ducked her head, blinking back tears. "That's just…I have no idea what to say. I'm sorry."

"Your apology is meaningless. What happened, happened, and you had no part in the events." The first sentence stung, but from the second she guessed he wasn't really angry. It didn't do much to stop the miserable feeling churning in her stomach, though.

"Now answer something for me." The sheer oddity of it caused her to look up; it was rare for Kamukura-kun to keep speaking. Usually, when he'd answered a question, he was done. His eyes were fixed on her. "Why did you care about Hinata Hajime?"

Chiaki blinked. "Huh?"

"He was not particularly wealthy or strong or smart. He was just an ordinary, unremarkable boy. Someone like him was far beneath you. So why did you care about him?"

"That's not true!" Her outburst seemed to surprise him, if the marginally raised eyebrow was any indication. But how could she not yell, when he was talking about his past self, about Hinata-kun, so dismissively? Chiaki looked down, realizing her hands were shaking. She forced them to still. "Hinata-kun may not have had talent, but that doesn't mean he was beneath me."

"Doesn't it? Hope's Peak was a reflection of the world, built on a caste system where the talentless mass of the Reserve Course existed solely to support the elite Main Course. Only the talented excel and make history; what else can the talentless possibly offer?"

"Friendship. Hope." She closed her eyes, recalling green irises and a sad, bitter smile. "Hinata-kun…no, he didn't excel in any particular area. But he still had so many good qualities. He was kind and honest and hardworking. He reached out to me before anyone else. Before him, I hadn't met anyone who didn't give me strange looks for being so into my games. But he didn't think I was weird. He enjoyed them with me, even when he lost. He…he gave me hope, that maybe I wouldn't have to be alone anymore." And I never told him…I'm so sorry, Hinata-kun…

The man who used to be Hinata-kun seemed to be mulling over her words. "Companionship…I see. Then why continue your association after you'd found companionship among your peers? You had no need to settle for him anymore."

She frowned. "It wasn't settling. That's not how friendship works. When you care about someone, you don't just abandon them as soon as you find someone 'better'. Everyone has something to offer. Because everyone's unique."

"In my experience, people are all the same."

"Then why did you save me?" she countered.

He went quiet—or, well, quieter than usual—and she realized maybe even he didn't know. Chiaki dropped her gaze to her Gamer Girl, feeling drained. Why did you save me was one of the more pressing questions on her mind, true, a mystery she'd pondered but hadn't yet worked up the courage to ask. She liked to think she'd have gotten around to it eventually, but she hadn't wanted it to be in that sharp tone she'd used, either.

"I said all traces of my vessel's identity were erased," Kamukura-kun said, and her head shot back up in surprise. "And that was my, and my creators, original presumption. But other evidence suggests we were wrong."

"What do you mean?"

He fixed those intense red eyes on her. "As I watched you bleed out, I felt a swell of emotions and a strong compulsion to act. After I had, I investigated the reasons behind such things and concluded that, against all logic, I do retain some of my vessel's past emotions…of 'caring'… for you. ...That is why I saved you."

Chiaki felt her face heating up. A cocktail of feelings were rolling her stomach. Surprise. Happiness. Embarrassment. Depression. He'd said it so coldly…

Of course he did, she realized with a surge of sadness, they stuffed all that talent into his head and didn't leave room for anything else.

Well, there was something she could do about that. Chiaki rolled back her shoulders and held out a hand to shake, like she'd seen people in Western games do. "Then…shall we be friends, Kamukura-kun?"

He looked at her arm, trembling as she tried to hold it up, as if it were a foreign object. "I do not see the point. You will not defeat me in any activities we may partake."

"Being friends isn't about beating each other. It's about enjoying the time we spend together. And that can happen regardless of winning or losing."

He continued to stare, and Chiaki flushed, now embarrassed by his apparent rejection of her gesture. But as the strength left her arm and it started to drop, Kamukura-kun surprised her by taking her hand in a grip neither firm nor gentle. "Very well, Nanami Chiaki," he agreed in that clipped way of his, "I shall give you the chance to surprise me yet again."

A/N: In a lot of shows, waking up from a coma is an instant thing with no repercussions. In reality, it's a painful process where you have to relearn everything. I'll tone down the needed length of time a little since DR tends to be a bit unrealistic (Kyoko should not have been able to walk after her near-death experience), but it's still going to be a long process.

Also, if you haven't noticed, this might be a case of the slow burn. 4 chapters before they actually meet, 5 before they become friends. But the focus is on Chiaki and her getting better—she's not really in the mood for a romance right now.