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Chiaki died believing in them. In him.
An unwilling murderer who wished only good for every one of her classmates and friends, who helped them figure it out. Who accepted death with a determination of a friend, of someone who knew they'd choose the lives of the people they hold dear over their own every time. She smiled as she put her trust and her life in Hajime's hands, and she asked him to guess.
"Hajime...please."
So he did. Hesitant, afraid, he guessed. To his horror, he was right. It couldn't be true, he couldn't imagine it being true, but it was. It was.
Chiaki was the traitor. She didn't belong with them, and she was going to be executed for it. (But she did, she did, she was his friend, she belonged in every way that mattered, why her -)
He couldn't bear it. To be the one to put a friend to death...
(yet again, again, it's always him. Sometimes, at his very lowest, he wonders if it would've been better to have made a mistake. To have saved himself and everyone else the heartache and the terror and the slow, sure descent in their numbers until their circle is crowded in crossed-out portraits, until there's too much space in that damned elevator, the space is suffocating, more than the too-tightly fitting group of eleven could've ever been- )
They had questions. Of course they did. As everyone talked at once, disbelief in their voices, he could only stare. But then, another request came.
"...I want you to prove to them that I'm the traitor."
-he couldn't. What was she asking..? It's too much, It's impossible. He couldn't-
"...the only thing I can do is plead with you..."
-and why could he see determination in the way her shoulders set, in the crease of her eyebrows, why would she ask this of him-
"I want you to do it. I believe you can prove it." She said it with all the sureness of a last wish, and, could she not see what she was asking for?
"Wh-whether I can prove it or not... that's not the problem..." Hajime reeled, his mind racing. He wanted to scream. "Don't you understand!? You may as well be asking me to kill you! "
He couldn't. He couldn't. He grit his teeth. "I... There's no way I can do that...!" And maybe Hajime's voice was shaking, but for a moment she was silent, and with all his being he hoped that she would take it back, that it was all some strange trick. (He knew she wouldn't. If she was, she wouldn't look at him with that look, like she had a goal set in stone-)
"I'm very sorry...but this is the only way. So... please."
And then someone was talking again, and he couldn't hear them because he felt the air leave his lungs and shut his eyes as though he could blink this away like a bad dream. But... his teeth were clenched so hard it hurt, and he knew this was real.
As Monomi resorted to bad acting, Chiaki spoke again. "Hajime, you're going to listen to my request...right?" And there was faith in it that he couldn't bear in any way except to curse in his head and wrack his memory for evidence.
Deflecting Monomi's childish insults and weak defences, Hajime thought, and thought, looking for whatever pieces of proof he had, when.. That's it. He knew from the moment he saw it, even as he refused to think about it. But he couldn't afford not to, now.
" Monomi's notebook ."
So he talked. About Monomi's lacking writing skills, about the Final Dead room, proving Chiaki's association with Monomi. About how she knew that the bomb was fake and the trap was a bluff. (He hated it. He wished he could turn his back on the truth and go along with everyone's disbelief.) His voice didn't waver.
"Why are you saying such things!? Do you really want Chiaki to be the traitor!?" With tears in her eyes, Sonia nearly yelled.
"Of course not...!" Of course not. He wished she wasn't. But the truth was right there before him, and he felt Chiaki's silent, determined gaze on him. So when everyone talked, when they refused the truth, he had things to prove. So when Sonia told him and Chiaki to stop, when she said she was tired of doubting people, tears running down her cheeks, he searched for words of proof and found them. (It was painful, being accused of not caring, again and again. He was tired too. So, so tired. But he couldn't stop now.)
As his classmates told him they couldn't believe in Nagito, in his luck, in Monokuma's words, Hajime grew frustrated. This was not about them, didn't they understand!?
"..We have to believe in Chiaki! It doesn't matter who the traitor is... Even if Chiaki is the traitor, that's not the Chiaki I know . I believe in...the Chiaki who's been with us this whole time. That Chiaki is saying she wants to protect us with her life! So the only thing we can do is believe her! If we don't... Nobody is going to be saved!"
And when everyone grew quiet with realization, she smiled again, and asked them to listen.
"There's nothing to be sad about, you know. Cuz... this is different from what happened before. You guys don't have to stay alive by doubting someone... You guys can stay alive by believing in me ."
"Are you telling us to believe in you... And sacrifice you? That is just too cruel..." Sonia's voice was tight. She had been crying for a while now.
Chiaki apologized to her softly. Then to Monomi. It was time to vote.
It was unfair. Hajime... felt the same as everyone else. There was no way he could agree to this...!
There were aching, heavy feelings tight in his chest. He didn't want this. But... he had to move forward. If they believed in the person who was urging them forward... then they had to start walking. And believe... with as much hope as possible in what lies ahead.
The votes were cast.
...
They were right.
(It didn't feel like a victory. It never did.)
With pain in their expressions, his classmates talked to Chiaki for the last time. She smiled throughout. When she apologized for not telling them earlier, when she said she had no regrets, she smiled. Hajime stayed mostly silent, he was done talking, only trying to burn her into his memory. He was going to lose her. No time could be enough when execution was nearing, and Hajime might've been having trouble breathing, he noted absently.
"In fact... I'm somewhat happy. I was able to think I wanted to protect everyone. That's why... I'm proud of my actions." Her smile was a soft, relieved thing. Hajime didn't understand, but he was tired and numb, and his words(his ultimate defense, his only weapon, his executioner's hatchet) failed him. So he didn't ask
Then, the execution came. Hajime could only watch in paralyzed horror.
...
Chiaki was dead. So was Monomi.
Three died that day.
Much later, Hajime understood. Chiaki's strange words, her and Monomi's weird conversation... Nagito's plan.
Nagito was someone Hajime had avoided thinking about, both before and after his death. But it was been different, after. And it was different now.
His death was hard to think about.
The scene was gruesome. Bloodier than all others he remembered. (His memory was a blessing and a curse. He could recall every miniscule detail he needed to find the truth on trial. He also found himself trapped in those details in the dead of night, trapped in his own mind. He didn't sleep much. Or well.) But, that was not the main reason he struggled with the memory, now.
Nagito's death... More than anything, it was lonely. He died believing he was doing something good. That he was trading his life for all of their deaths, the death of the Ultimate Despair. He died in horrific pain and bleeding out, tortured, by his own design. (Hajime remembered the look on his face. It was a fearful, agonized thing.)
He died alone, with nothing to believe in except his Ultimate Luck, and hope.
(Though he said something strange that morning.
"It's going to be fine... I'm pretty sure everything will work out in the end... After all... There's no way hope can lose... Absolute hope that can break through any despair can never lose in a place like this! And not only that...I believe in you all. I believe in the time we spent together." He was rambling, but it had been different than usual, though his expression had been familiar. Hope and despair, mixed crudely together. He had been trying to convince himself.
Maybe he had believed in them, too. In his own strange, twisted way of thinking, maybe he had believed in them even as he lay there dying and intending to take them all with him.
Maybe he had died alone, believing in them and hope, and his luck…
Or maybe he hadn't. Hajime wouldn't know.
There weren't many certainties, with Nagito.)
Another reason was that, and Hajime didn't like to admit it, they were similar in many ways. His death left an empty space that couldn't be filled in his life. Much like Chiaki's.
Chiaki's death was devastating. Remembering it made his vision blur, and his heart bleed, bleed from unclosed wounds. Made him want to scream or cry. Made him remember all the words he didn't get to say to her, all the things he wished he had had the opportunity to do with her at his side. With time, the memory had started making him feel grateful and wistful, too. She would've wanted him to remember the good things about her, he knew.
Nagito's death was a missing figure, a sharp feeling of wrongness and a reluctant, true sorrow hiding in the back of his mind. Remembering it made his chest tight and eyes uncertain. Made him remember everything despite himself. Made him shudder with a phantom chill of a momentary loneliness so deep it threatened to swallow him whole. (The loneliness was only second-handed, he convinced himself.)
Chiaki died believing in him. Nagito did too, maybe. Maybe. (He lost them both, that day.) And fuck if Hajime knew what to do with that kind of complete faith, or with the utter trust Chiaki put in him, except try, try, try to not fall into despair. Try to survive.
Try to move forward.