Ayurnamat - The philosophy that there is no point in worrying about events that cannot be changed.

Hinata could faintly remember that someone once told him that there were things in the world he could do nothing about. He couldn't bring his goldfish back to life, he would just have to get over it. He couldn't affect the time when his relatives would arrive to his birthday party, he could only wait for them. He couldn't force himself to like some people, he'd just have to put up with the boy next door and try not to show he hated him.

The chair was cold as he sat on it. For a moment he only looked at the pale, sleeping form of Komaeda. Looking at him now, Hinata couldn't see any trace of the madness that had seemed to haunt him, he could only see a broken young boy.

The closed eyes felt like they'd break his heart, so he buried his face into the bed sheets. Most of the other students had woken up, their memories more or less intact. But no one had woken up in a long time now, and some were already starting to suspect that the rest wouldn't wake up.

Souda had once said that it would be better if Komaeda wouldn't wake up. Hinata could still feel his knuckles tingling from punching him. However, he knew many thought the same. He was the only one who ever visited, and that made him angry and sad at the same time.

Komaeda had done a lot of things wrong. But Hinata couldn't help but feel sympathy, couldn't help but pity him. To some degree, he could even understand Komaeda, he could understand the wish to be something more, the wish to be looked up to and the wish to be cared about. He could remember Komaeda's words, could remember how he had opened up about himself and his past, and whenever he thought that if it hadn't been lies, if it had been the truth then…

There were things he couldn't affect. He couldn't change Komaeda's past, he couldn't go back in time and find him as a small boy. And he couldn't affect the fact that Komaeda might never wake up. He could just hope that he would.

Hope. The one thing Komaeda had loved, the only thing that had brought comfort to the pale boy. And now it was the only thing that gave comfort to Hinata as he took Komaeda's hand into his and just prayed, pressing the cold and unmoving hand against his forehead.

He remembered being told that he shouldn't worry about the things he couldn't change. That he should just let the world walk the tracks it would and live his own life. No matter how much he worried, no matter how much he cried, no matter how much he sat here, Komaeda wouldn't wake up any faster.

But when he thought about moving on, doing anything else than wait…

It felt like betrayal. He didn't want to stop caring, he didn't want to stop worrying. He wanted to sit here for hours holding Komaeda's hand so that maybe, maybe he would wake up feeling like someone did love him. Hinata didn't want him to wake up to an empty room, feeling worthless and abandoned.

So he'd sit here for hours upon hours, and he would keep worrying for every minute he was awake, and he would most definitely smile the happiest smile he ever had when one day Komaeda's eyes would finally flutter open.

He desperately wanted to feel the bony fingers hold his back, wanted to hear that soft voice and when he would, he was going to show Komaeda all the love and beauty in the world.

He would show him all the hope that his death had caused.

Someone once told him that he was stubborn. And that's the only thing they ever got right.