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expiredfairydust · 3 years

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Survivor's Guilt ~ A Yasuhiro Hagakure Fanfic

Warning: This will contain spoilers from the Danganronpa series - I've only played the thh and goodbye despair however so if anything clashes with the canon in udg or v3 it’s not intended lawl

Also, content warning!! There will be gore described at certain parts, death or mentions of it, and vivid self-loathing and degradation in this fic! Angst warning too maybe? Not sure if this angsty or just dramatic tbh.

After the killing game, all of the survivors were affected. That was obvious – they had witnessed ten of their classmates, ten of their friends, dying one by one; of course, they’d be affected. But no one was as utterly, utterly haunted by the events as Yasuhiro Hagakure.

You see, as the Ultimate Clairvoyant, Hiro didn’t just see the future in his timeline, in his reality, he had the potential to see into all realities: realities where the killing game had never happened; realities where different people survived; and it tore him apart

Every day, he got visions. Visions of a familiar dark-haired gambler and Kyouko snuggling with a chubby grey cat; of Sayaka and Chihiro happily talking about their passions together; of Leon joining a band with Sayaka and another girl, in a world where the Ultimate Despair had never risen to power - and it broke his heart to know what could've been. It broke his heart to know they could've lived.

After all, why should he have lived? He was nothing but a fool who couldn’t even properly tell the future, his whole talent was just a shot in the dark, a hoax, so why did he have to live? Why not Leon, with all his hopes and dreams of music; or Mondo and Taka, who had each other to live for; or even Hifumi, who at least had a fanbase to provide for, why instead was it him - himbo Hiro, with no one else who needed him - who got to live?

Hiro avoided the other survivors at work, all seeing them did was remind him; of the visions, of the game, of how completely useless he had been and still was. Even Makoto, who brightened all of the survivors’ days with his ultimate hope, just made Hiro feel all the worse.

He wasn’t in despair, nothing like that. He managed the burden the only way he could, he simplified everything possible – he didn’t own a car, he was roommates with Makoto and Byakuya (although he avoided them even then) so he wouldn’t have to worry about paperwork or bills, he worked in the 2nd Division of the Future Foundation, which meant he managed day-to-day operations that weren’t difficult to manage; after all, when there was so much going on in his head all he could do was simplify everything else.

But still, some days things were still too much, and Byakuya would come to their apartment and hear crying, no, sobbing, from Hiro’s room, and he’d just quietly make a warm beverage and get one of Makoto’s fuzzy blankets, and just leave them outside of Hiro’s room after knocking on the door and powerwalking away. That was his way of showing that he cared, even though he knew that Hiro always assumed it was Makoto.

It hurt Hiro so much to think that his roommates were so kind to him while he could barely talk to them without feeling so horrible after no more than five minutes. He couldn’t even be a good friend to the people who had gone through the exact same as him, so why did they even bother.

He wished he could just stop his talent, that he could just be ordinary. Or that he’d gotten any other talent. Anything would be better than this daily torture.

God, he was such a cry baby, he thought, tears streaming down his face again after seeing another monstrosity in his visions – this time, Byakuya was a victim. And Makoto. They had been burned to death with acid, but Hiro knew it was them, even though their bodies had been melted and burned until they were unrecognisable. He knew it was them, he just did.

And he didn’t know whether it was the sadistic nature or it all or something entirely different, but he just started sobbing and sobbing, and then screaming his lungs out, and then whacking his head on the wall.

Why? Why them? Why the fuck did this have to happen? And why was he the one who had to see it? Why did he have to watch his friends die, every day while he survived, or watch them be happy in a world he could never live in the bliss of? It wasn’t fair, damn it! It just wasn’t! “Why...? Why???? WHY???” he started shouting, to no one, yet also to everyone, and to the universe herself “WHY ME? WHY NOT ANYONE ELSE? WHY ONLY ME?? WHY DO I HAVE TO SUFFER??? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS???”

Lovely, now he was talking to himself. God he was pathetic. Crazy and pathetic and useless. God he was useless useless useless......

Hiro punched the wall, then started crying even heavier because he hurt himself doing so.

Then, in the middle of his freak out, a familiar knock at his door made Hiro freeze, this time accompanied with a voice barely whispering, “Hiro?”

But wait a moment, that was Byakuya’s voice... Why would Byakuya care about him? Nono of course he didn’t care, he was probably just annoyed about the noise.

Hiro took a moment to try and regain his composure as he replied, “Byakuya?” His voice broke as he spoke, and tears continued to pour from his eyes. So much for trying to sound fine. His legs gave way as he started to continue sobbing.

Hiro looked up to see Byakuya’s head slightly poking around the door, an odd expression on his face. Odd being... Not disgusted or condescending.

Hiro had been so surprised at Byakuya’s appearance that he hadn’t realised him getting closer with one of Makoto's blankets until Byakuya softly whispered again, “I was making you some tea, but you look like you need something stronger” he spoke gently, wrapping the blanket around Hiro. He looked as though he was about to give him a hug before he moved away – was that awkwardness in his expression? “Would you prefer some wine or vodka?” He asked before realising that Hiro was probably not in the mood for talking “I’ll get both” Byakuya then rushed off.

What the fuck was this, Hiro wondered, trying to reason in his head why anyone – especially Byakuya – would ever want to help him feel better. He couldn’t think of a reason.

And then he realised, now he’d be expected to explain why he’d been so distressed.

Shit.

#yasuhiro hagakure #hagakure yasuhiro #danganronpa #dr thh #trigger happy havoc #dr1 #danganronpa fanfiction #fanfic #writing #writeblr #writers of tumblr #eeeeeeooooooooo angst lol

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