Saihara's POV:

"Why..?" Ouma muttered he didn't even look at me but his eyes were filled with annoyance and confusion, "why did you s-save me?" he asked his voice cracking now he turned to look at me, looking at me with tears in his eyes breaking the image I had of Ouma, he never cried genuinely and when he did he would usually then make a big villain act to cover it up, "w-why didn't y-you leave m-me to die? Y-You, hate me so w-why didn't you l-leave me to die?!" he demanded my eyes widened, does he think I would just leave him there? That I would just leave him to die...? Does...does he think I'm that bad?

I looked around for a while not being able to answer his question before taking a deep breath, "I just couldn't leave somebody to die" I told him, Ouma's eyes widened and seemed to question me. I guess I didn't explain it well, but it was hard to explain...I hate the things he did, I hate how our friendship had to end...but I never wanted him to die, I may not have mourned much when he died, instead just being confused...but...

What am I doing? I'm flipping back and forth...what do I want? I don't think we can ever go back to being those teenagers in the game...for these fleeting moments where we could almost forget what was happening around us and instead play games together...

Those used to be some of my happiest memories...but when I think of them now...I just feel nothing.

...

...

...

Silence. 

Ouma never did respond to me telling him I didn't want him to die, didn't ask any more questions and instead seemed to try and make himself comfortable in the room, mainly he leaned his head against the boxes and seemed to sleep for most of the time we were in there, I don't blame him. 

Why didn't I think of him having claustrophobia? Well..it's not like we had many other options at the time...still...he was terrified. I glanced over at Ouma's nails, he had torn and scratched at the door so much that they were bleeding and some even lost their fingernail, right now he seemed to be digging his remaining nails deep into his arms leaving bruises on them in I guess a way to calm himself down.

I looked down ashamed, I was never great at comforting people, and I never really had an experience where I would need to comfort people. Times like this made me wish I was more like Momota, more forgiving...able to understand more...but I can't.

I can't forget how Gokuhara cried over realizing he was a murderer, or Ouma's final lie to him only to then act as the mastermind when Gokuhara told him to make friends...I can't forget seeing Harukawa cry over Momota before the execution...I can't forget how in the end, I barely even knew him. On what was a lie and what was the truth anymore.

So...it's complicated.

"Ugh..." Ouma groaned as he woke up, he then adjusted so he could try and sit up, "how long was I out for?" Ouma whispered I shrugged as Ouma sighed closing his eyes...then he opened them up surprised and for some reason, he moved both his arms as if he was surprised by something, "sorry, I couldn't stop you from clawing yourself..." I apologized. Ouma glanced from me to his arms before he took a deep breath and hissed as he looked at his fingers.

They were completely caked in dry blood.

I looked around the room for anything to try and wrap his fingers in and in the end, decided to rip a part of the hospital uniform shirt and turned to Ouma and pointed at the fabric and then to his hands, he looked at me hesitantly before nodding, it was awkward too say the least Ouma was just watching as I did my best to bandage the wound, when I decided it was good enough Ouma let out a low chuckle, I raised an eyebrow looking at him.

"We did this during the knife game remember?" he asked me, I smiled at the memory, I was so scared at the time and Ouma just laughed the entire time.

I miss those days.

It was silent, the awkwardness between us was clear, not only because of our time in the game but the events that had followed afterward, we had been through a lot. A gunshot rang out in the distant and Ouma's eyes widened as I tried to tune out the sound.

For the hours we spent inside of there, we would whisper stories from the game, the happy ones and mindless conversations to distract us from what was going on. They varied, and sometimes I could hear echoes of laughter from Ouma.

It was nice and sad at the same time, I wish we could have ended the game like this...just two friends...why couldn't the game have ended like that?

But I know we couldn't go back to being those two people, it's impossible from the trauma we have endured in the games, and the bitterness we both hold over the other. But...you're not that person who pretended to be the mastermind...not the person who pretended he wanted to toy with our lives and the person who killed Gokuhara.

He was just Ouma.

So...I'll try and do what Maiko said.

I'll try and forgive, I hope one day...we might be able to have those fun days again...that one day the hatred I have inside of me will dissappear...and at the very least, we won't hate each other. I'll be happy if just for that.