Chapter Text
Hajime wasn’t sure what he was expecting— no, that’s wrong. He was expecting Nagito to be gone from his side the moment he closed his eyes. He was expecting Nagito to be M.I.A. for an unforeseen amount of days so that the moment Hajime did spot him, he wouldn’t be sure if he had daydreamed the entire scenario. And maybe then he’d smile his smile— a distant one, far from genuine, extremely easy to discern from a real one from the way it never seems to reach his eyes. He’d wave, say a greeting that was hardly a sentence long, and Hajime would just let him slip away from his fingers like he always does.
To his credit, Hajime did dream about him a lot. Maybe Komaeda somehow discovered that like the clever little jerk he was, because nothing ever seemed to escape Komaeda’s observant gaze. Sometimes it was about the blank, dead gaze in Komaeda’s eyes back in the fifth trial; a sight that never failed to spark a cold sweat whenever he thought about it for longer than a second. Other times, Hinata dreamed about the Komaeda he used to know, the one who stared at him as though Hajime had hung the stars just for him. The one who blindly believed in him, the one who helped him, the one who didn’t know just how much he’d come to hate him for a talent he’d never be born with without the Academy’s help.
Which naturally makes this situation all the more bizarre to him, because every single outcome he’d expected was wrong.
Having amplified senses (the entire reason why he’s in this situation in the first place, really) meant that Hajime had immediately registered the slow, soft breathing of someone that wasn’t him. Confused and still half-awake, the brunet stirs and finally opens his eyes, and— oh my god.
For the second day in a row, the sight of white wispy hair seems to make his stomach churn. He’s still here, sleeping soundly in the chair he was in before Hajime had fallen asleep. Surely Nagito was uncomfortable sleeping like that. He had to be, but he had stayed regardless, not leaving Hajime’s side.
Leave it to Nagito to exceed his expectations. Leave it up to Nagito to not be boring.
Hajime rubs his eyes, nearly certain that he’s just seeing what he wants to see, but after the fifth time he doesn’t think there’s any other explanation for why the image of a sleeping Komaeda is still in front of him.
He looks peaceful like this— genuinely peaceful, and it stirs a horrifically fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Probably some residual nausea from his migraine episode, or probably because he didn’t eat as much as he should’ve yesterday.
The thought makes Hajime come to yet another realization. Had he really slept through the entire day? If he did, then that means Nagito must have–
“Shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. He feels guilty, incredibly so, forcing Nagito to take care of him like that. Surely he knew that he could leave, right? Is it because he asked for him to stay?
Crap, why did he even have to say that? Why did Nagito listen?
Eventually, Hajime figures that staring at a person in their sleep is kind of weird as he forces himself to avert his gaze. He should..probably get food for the both of them, right? He wasn’t even sure if Nagito did eat something yesterday. That was something Hajime was still worried about to this day.
Grimacing at the tray of food, which looked the complete same as it did yesterday, Hajime takes it in his hands, gently opens the door, and rushes over to the restaurant.
“Hajime-chann!” Ibuki practically tackles him the moment he enters the cafeteria, and Hajime was sure that if it weren’t for Izuru, the tray would have most definitely toppled over.
“Yo, Hinata.” Fuyuhiko’s eyebrow is raised as he stares at the Ultimate Hope up and down. “Feeling any better?”
..Okay, so maybe coming here was a pretty bad idea. Looking at his friends, he felt incredibly guilty (not to mention ashamed), making his friends witness him in such a pitiful state. How was he supposed to be the person that people depended on if he couldn’t even handle a stupid migraine?
“Yeah, um..I’m fine. Sorry about that,” he murmurs, suddenly finding the floor beneath them incredibly fascinating.
“Hajime-chan shouldn’t apologize!” Ibuki interjects, drumming her hands on the side of Hajime’s arm as she spoke. “Ibuki was just worried! When we all saw you slam your head into the table, Ibuki’s heart was all like, ‘BADUM, BADUM, BADUM’! It was making for a totally good drum solo!”
“Yeah, whatever the hell that means,” the yakuza mutters with what can only be described as pure confusion. Still, the distraction is short-lived as he turns to face the brunet. “Listen here, dumbass. I can already tell by the look on your face that you’re feeling guilty or whatever. Not even sure why, it’s not like it’s even your fault to begin with.” Ah, that’s right. Fuyuhiko had been there for the first migraine episode, hadn’t he?
The two of them had been in the middle of trying to repair Peko’s cottage together when it happened. With no one else around to help (Mikan hadn’t yet woken up at the time, after all), the yakuza did the best he could. Actually, it was him who ultimately picked up on the reasoning behind the migraine.
“They did all kinds of fucked up shit to your head. ‘Wouldn’t be shocked if your head’s coming up with some crappy way to respond to that after all this time,” he had said.
His thoughts were cut out by a soft jab of the blonde’s elbow to the shoulder Ibuki wasn’t still drumming on. “Anyways. I guess all I’m tryna say is that you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. We’re all here to help, you got that? Seriously, I get you’re the Ultimate Hope or whatever now, but that doesn’t mean we can’t pitch in from time to time.”
The other’s words bring a smile to his face as he nods. Really, Hajime couldn’t be more grateful for his friends– for everyone. They were the reason why the path to restoring the island, to restoring the world, to paving the path to Hope was just so incredibly simple. Complete love and adoration for his friends flooded through Hajime, and it took everything for him to fight back the tears forming in his eyes.
“Ehhh-?! Fuyuhiko, your kind words are making Hajime-chan cry!” Ibuki finally stops using Hajime’s shoulder as her own personal drumming set as she widens her eyes.
“He’ll be fine,” Fuyuhiko grins at the Ultimate Musician. “Besides, judging from the tray he’s got in his hands, he looks kinda busy; so we should probably leave him to it.” With a final nod and knowing smile, the yakuza walks off, leaving Ibuki by her lonesome.
For a moment, Ibuki looks down at the tray in Hajime’s hands. She looked as though she were about to say something until the resounding thud of someone (presumably Mikan, from her reaction) crashing to the floor distracted her.
Jeez..what emotional whiplash he was going through today. Why the hell did Fuyuhiko have to look at him like that? As though he knew something Hajime didn’t.
Whatever, standing around dumbfounded isn’t what Hajime was here to do, anyways. He was going to make food for himself and Nagito. Something (probably Izuru, now that he was thinking about it) told him that Nagito wouldn’t refuse to eat something if he said he had made it specifically for him.
So he made something quick– eggs and toast with a side of fruit, because aside from bread and Blue Ram, Hajime wasn’t exactly sure what Nagito liked to eat. Well, he knew Lucky Student wasn’t a fan of rice from, well, that one time. He also preferred salty things over sweet things, unless it was his tea; but it had to be subtly sweet, one sugar, if he had to guess–
..Crap, okay, so maybe he did know a thing or two about the other’s taste. He assures himself that he didn’t go out of his way to remember these things, that for every fact he knew about Komaeda that there were plenty of facts he knew about the others.
With a shaky sigh, he placed the food on the now-cleaned tray and made his way back to his cabin. And if he gained the attention or noticings of any of his friends, then so be it. He had a favor to return, and he didn’t care how insane he looked to the others, believing that he could finally reach Komaeda.
Except, when Hajime returned to his cottage, Nagito Komaeda was nowhere to be found. Not even the slightest trace of him could be seen, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Hajime knew he couldn’t have possibly asked Teruteru to deliver him food let alone return to his cabin on his own; he would have assumed that the entire thing had been a hallucination.
With a deep sigh, Hajime leaves Nagito’s plate of food outside of his cottage, giving a small knock, before returning to his own cottage and waiting.
He doesn’t hear Nagito’s cottage door open.
Eventually, hours turn into days, and by the time Hajime finally can’t take it anymore, it’s been a week.
“Dammit..!” he says, standing up quickly. Given what had happened the week prior, everyone immediately turns to him, not daring to utter a single word.
“..No, I’m not having another migraine,” Hajime states, looking up from the table. The entire class (minus a notably absent Komaeda, of course) sighs in relief the moment he says it. While he normally appreciates the concern, there’s far more worse matters on his mind. “It’s just– have any of you seen Komaeda lately?”
The entire class looks around for a moment, and it doesn’t exactly take rocket science to realize he had every right to be concerned.
“Well,” Sonia begins, smoothing out her green dress. “..now that I am truly thinking about it, the last time I saw Nagito was last week, when he nursed you to health..”
He kind of wishes she hadn’t put it that way, it felt far too domestic than Hajime thinks he can handle at the moment. Talk about emotional whiplash..
Speaking of, Teruteru chuckles a bit. “Is it your turn to return the favor, Hajime? He’s a pretty sickly guy, y'know, Hajime. No need to milk him dr–” the stares of his classmates immediately send Teruteru into a nervous fit of laughter. “I, um..come to think of it, I haven’t seen him either! How strange..haha..ha..”
..He’s kind of starting to wish that he didn’t ask his classmates for their input. Thankfully for him, that changes the moment Akane speaks up.
“Hah? Well, what if he’s in his cottage? Didja check there?” Akane asks.
“Ah, that’s right! I did see him leave your cottage when me and Hiyoko were going out on a walk together..” Mahiru concurs with a thoughtful hum.
Hajime’s stomach seems to churn at the implication. Immediately, he stands up again. “I’ve gotta go,” he says, and before he knows it he finds himself at Nagito’s cottage.
Hesitantly, he knocks on the door. Hajime wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but there’s no answer.
Humans can survive up to two months without food and a week without water, he thinks to himself, but that doesn’t exactly quell his worries. His anxiety quickly takes a turn for the worst– Nagito couldn’t have died, could he? Hajime shakes his head. No, he couldn’t have. Nagito’s health has stabilized; incredibly so. It still doesn’t stop him from noticing his heartrate was now beginning to sound like ringing in his ears.
He sighs deeply as he knocks again, harder this time. “Komaeda, it’s me. Open the door.” When he doesn’t get a response in the two second frame period he gave Nagito, he adds, “If you don’t answer, I’ll tell Nekomaru that you need some words of encouragement.”
He waits for another moment before he hears footsteps treading on the wooden planks of the cottage door. It opens, and Hajime’s breath practically hitches.
“Hinata-kun is so cruel,” he pouts. He looks paler than usual, if that was even possible. The rings under his eyes had returned. Honestly, Hajime wasn’t sure which was worse— the Nagito he faintly remembers during his time as a remnant, or the Nagito in front of him now. The way he looked now– sickly and positively dazed, reminded him of the Despair Disease-ridden Nagito.
“What..are you okay?” He tries not to sound too concerned, but it’s kind of difficult when your friend-turned-somewhat-enemy-turned-long-time-crush looks like he’s clinging to the doorframe for support.
“Huh? Is that what you’re here for? I guess that makes sense, but to check in on trash like me..my luck really is the luck of legends.” he hums, looking off to the side as he taps on the door once, twice. He looks kind of dazed. “Ah, there really isn’t any need to worry about me though, Hajime.”
To make a show of it, the Lucky Student flashes a smile to Hajime. In any normal situation (or at least, in any normal situation after the Neo World Program), Hajime would allow himself to stare. Hell, maybe he’d even agree with what Nagito said. But he’s tired of running away from Nagito, and of allowing Nagito to do the same.
Hajime takes a deep breath. “No, you’re not.” He says as he takes a step forward. “You look sick. Are you? I told you that if you were, you should let either me or Mikan know.”
At this, Nagito tilts his head; his wispy white hair bouncing along with the sudden movement. “Hm? But I’m not sick.”
“Then something else is up. C’mon, Nagito, talk to me.” He’s practically pleading at this point. “Nobody has seen you for a week. Everyone is worried about you—” Hajime bites the inside of his cheek as he debates adding in what he wants to say: I was worried about you.
The brunet sighs as he stares at Nagito, who looks as though he’s shocked at the statement. Much to the misfortune of everyone, Nagito still struggled with his self-worth. It was just one of the things that made the gap between Komaeda and his class even wider.
“Just..please, let me help. I want to understand you.”
Hajime looks back up to see Komaeda’s face. He looks..somewhat dumbfounded, but there’s something else in his eyes that Hajime can’t exactly pinpoint. Well, actually, he could, but the response in his head only serves as fuel for the anxiety pumping through his veins.
Komaeda looked afraid.
But what would he be afraid of? What changed between last week and this week? The more Hajime thought about it, the more the only possible answer became apparent.
Komaeda was afraid of him.
He can feel bile at the back of his throat, his blood running cold. He was so, so, stupid— how could he not realize? Nagito was probably disgusted by him and his stupid migraine-induced neediness. He had worked so hard restoring the island, rehabilitating the people residing on the island. He worked hard to become the Ultimate Hope everyone needed.
Maybe Nagito was disgusted with him after tending to him. Maybe he had remembered that, when afflicted with something as measly as a little bit of pain, Hajime was nothing in Nagito’s eyes but a talentless Reserve Course student.
He feels stupid for wanting to cry or to even think that way, but it really is the only thing he can think of.
“Listen,” he says, cringing at how strained his voice comes out. “I’m sorry about last week. I should’ve pulled myself together, and I didn’t. I’m sorry you had to take care of me, but you..you didn’t have to. And if I made you uncomfortable or disgusted with me, I’m..so sorry. But I’m not going to let you neglect your health over this.” Hesitantly, Hajime takes another step. Komaeda doesn’t move. Instead, his face shifts into something inexplicably soft.
“You’ve got it all wrong, Hinata-kun. I didn’t mean to..”
“Can I come in?” Hajime looks back into the other’s eyes– he finds himself holding his breath as he does. He never really allowed himself to acknowledge it, but he thinks he could stare into the other’s eyes for an eternity.
He’s always found it difficult (but not impossible) to read Nagito, but for a moment he thinks he sees the other hesitate. For a moment, he thinks the other will distance himself again, but he doesn’t. The door opens a little wider. “Okay,” he murmurs with the tiniest semblance of a nod.
Despite being the one to renovate the cabins, Hajime admittedly hasn’t visited Nagito’s. He planned it accordingly, hoping it would suit all of Nagito’s preferences. It was a joint effort between him and Izuru, the two of them wanting to make it perfect. He implemented wider windows and made sure to keep a relatively open space floor. Nagito made sure to decorate his cottage with all sorts of trinkets in the Neo World Program, so he made sure to add multiple bookshelves; considering the other mentioned he liked keeping things clean anyways. It was a good decision, considering the current state of his cabin.
Mahiru really wasn’t kidding when she said the other seemed like a good stay at home dad. Seaglass, seashells, and other things were neatly arranged on some of the shelves, along with books. There was a specific shelf that caught Hajime’s attention, mostly because everything on it looked familiar. A few books he had thought were to Nagito’s liking, a Hope’s Peak Academy ring he had found during his time away on a Future Foundation trip– all of these things were gifts that he had gifted Nagito. Did he really dedicate an entire shelf for things Hajime had gifted him?
His face flushed, but he chose to ignore it for the time being. He had far more important aspects of Komaeda to focus on, after all.
“Ah..I’m sorry, Hinata-kun, but you’re going to have to sit down on the furniture I’ve touched with my repulsive body..unless you’re content with standing. Or I could try to clean the furniture, if you’re willing to wait a few–”
“Komaeda,” Hajime inhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to deal with Nagito’s self-deprecation at the moment, not when he just wanted an explanation. He could easily tell by now that Nagito had just wanted to avoid the subject. “Please. I just.. I want to know why you were doing this to yourself. If it wasn’t over..last week,” he hates how his face flushes up over it, so he chooses to ignore it for the sake of continuing to speak. “I just..I thought you were doing well. I’m not mad or anything, but..I just want to understand where you’re coming from.” His voice is gentle as he speaks, as though Nagito were some fragile thing. To be fair, he certainly looked like it at the moment.
His current facial expression didn’t help, either. He looked hurt– as though someone’s concern for him was completely unwarranted.
“Right..I guess I owe you an explanation, don’t I? Then..” Komaeda frowns, averting his gaze from Hajime’s as he sits down on his bed, directly across from him. The next few words that tumble out of his mouth throw Hajime entirely off guard.
“I haven’t left my cabin since last week,” he admits. “But please believe me when I say that I only did it for you, Hinata-kun.” He looks like he was going to add more to the sentence, but he doesn’t. Rather, Komaeda wraps his arms around himself as he does everything in his power not to stare at the other.
“W..What?” The brunet’s voice comes out strangled, all the blood in his veins turning cold. “Then, that means..you haven’t eaten anything? Have you drank any water at least?” His answer is a simple shake of Nagito’s head.
“You really shouldn’t be upset, Hinata-kun. Especially over someone like me. I’m..doing this out of my own volition.”
The brunet gives an incredulous scoff in response. “Are you kidding me? To admit to something like that and expect me not to be worried..” Is he out of his mind?
Hajime knows the answer to that, so instead of standing up and leaving, Hajime stays. He waits for a response, some kind of explanation, something.
Nagito’s frown only seems to deepen at his words. “As I said, I’m doing this for you, Hinata-kun. Do you..not believe me?”
“I just..don’t get it, Nagito. I didn’t..no, I wouldn’t ask you to do any of that to yourself. Especially not after how hard we– you worked on recovering your health. So just stop beating around the bush and tell me why.” Hajime demands it now, not out of anger but out of fear. What had he done? Was it something he said? No, that can’t be right..Hajime had left without a word to Nagito.
The albino tilts his head again. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m protecting you from my luck.”
..Huh? Komaeda’s luck? He was neglecting his health to protect Hajime from his luck? He really did think Nagito was going to leave it at that, but much to his fortune, Komaeda seems to take the hint and begins to elaborate.
“I missed your company, Hinata-kun. More than anything, I wanted to talk to you again, outside of our check-ups. I know it’s selfish of someone like me to ask, so I didn’t. I said so many things to hurt you back then, but that’s just in my nature isn’t it, Hinata-kun? I’m so incredibly selfish, too worthless to recognize the hope that slept within you, too worthless to even have hope in you.” He seems to be shaking now, his frame trembling ever so slightly as he hunches over. More than anything, Hajime wants to put an end to the other’s self-deprecating rambles, but he knows that he can’t; not when this might be the closest he gets to truly listen to the other.
“And of course, being the selfish person I am, my luck just had to intervene. I was able to take care of you, even when Mikan was the far more qualified option to nurse you back to health. But..even in the wake of your suffering, I couldn’t allow an opportunity to speak again to pass me by.” The trembling intensifies, and it takes a few seconds to realize that the other is laughing. It was horrifically empty, lacking any real malice and leaving bitterness in its wake. Every part of Hajime’s body screams to him to be afraid, but he can’t find himself to be. Komaeda is suffering, and it’s his fault. His fault for making Komaeda feel as though the other couldn’t talk to him, his fault for not being able to get a grip of his emotions on the other, his fault for never daring to mend their relationship.
“When I woke up, I realized something. I enjoyed the time I spent with you, but at what cost? You were in pain, you had no other choice but to be grateful for my help. My luck wouldn’t allow me to get close to you again, not unless you were suffering. And I just..I can’t put you through that, Hinata-kun. I care for you far too much, so to protect you from my selfish desires and my luck..” Komaeda lifts his head, the dark circles under his eyes accentuating the blend of hope and despair swirling in his eyes. Hajime can predict the words that were supposed to follow.
His heart hurts, painfully so. He needed to reassure Komaeda, but what could he say? Nagito had avoided him after he stabilized, yes, but Hajime did as well. Contrary to what everyone else on the island thought, Komaeda was a logical person. It would make sense for Nagito to think he hated him, wouldn’t it? What could he possibly say to convince him he didn’t? With a deep sigh, Hajime lifts his head to stare at the other.
“Nagito..If I’m here right now, then don’t you think that means something?”
Komaeda opens his mouth to protest, but Hajime is quick to cut him off. He knows better what Nagito was going to say, anyways– some kind of rebuttal, some kind of counterargument to throw him off. Hajime won’t allow him to.
“My migraines happen all the time. None of that was your fault. I started getting those even before you woke up.” he explained. “That wasn’t your luck. If anything, it was mine.”
Nagito raises an eyebrow, now clearly fully shut up. He was pouting slightly, and Hajime couldn’t help but admire how cute it was. He stands up from his chair, noting the way Nagito’s eyes temporarily widen and relax as the other sits down beside him.
“You helped me. You’ve never seen any of my episodes before, but you knew exactly what to do. I don’t think anyone else on the island could have done that.” Hajime’s eyes flicker temporarily to the other’s hands, still gripping his jacket. The brunet gently pries them off of himself and holds it. It’s hard to really distinguish which one of his hands is warmer at the moment; the one still intact or the prosthetic Hajime had made for him. It reminds him of the entire reason he’s here at the moment.
“If you thought dying would prevent me from worrying about you, then you’re wrong. When you..did what you did in the program..I thought I’d never see you again. If it wasn’t for Nanami, I don’t think I would have been able to focus on the trial at all. I mean that.” Although he knew now that it wasn’t really Nanami, he meant it. He was incredibly grateful for her help, AI or not. Distantly, he wonders if Chiaki– the real Chiaki– would be proud of him for having this conversation with the other. For not running away.
Hajime furrows his eyebrows as he swallows. “So no matter what, I won’t let you do this to yourself. I don’t care if you think you’re helping me or not.”
Of course, he should’ve known Komaeda would have not relented so easily. His rebuttal this time is notably more hesitant, and Hajime can’t help but wonder if it’s because of the physical contact. “But..if you get close to me, then..”
“Then what? Are you doubting me?” Hajime asked. “I don’t care about your luck. If it hurts me, then so be it. Besides, don’t you think my own luck will protect me? You’re not the only one with luck on their side.” Right..the memory is hazy, but he remembers Izuru mentioning it to Komaeda once. If it’s luck, then I have that, too. He’d use it as much as he needed to if it meant keeping Nagito alive and happy.
The words seem to make Nagito finally relent. He gives Hajime’s hand a light squeeze before laughing softly. “Hajime,” he says, stirring butterflies in stomach because he had never called Hajime by that name before. “Thank you, truly.. I don’t know what I could have possibly done to deserve your kindness, but..your hope is truly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He swears there’s sparkles in the other’s eyes as he talks. Being praised like that by Nagito never fails to make Hajime’s face heat up. For the sake of his sanity, he chooses to ignore it.
“Uhm..yeah,” he mutters, ignoring the amused chuckle he’s earned with the less-than stellar response. “Now that you’re feeling better enough to laugh at me, I’ll be right back.”
Like clockwork, him standing up is met with an immediate frown. The brunet turns to face the other and lets out an involuntary sigh. “Don’t..look at me like that. I’m coming right back, I’m just going to get you some food.”
As expected, the other frowns deeply, face tinged with worry. “But..I couldn’t possibly let someone like you waste your talents on–” Hajime is quick to cut him off.
“Enough of that already, seriously.” He says, crossing his arms as he stares down at the other. “No offense, but locking yourself in your cottage for a week to die has stressed me out enough. I can assure you that cooking up an omelette for you is the least you can let me do for you.” He hates to put it like that, but he knows that it was the only thing that would make Komaeda agree with him.
“And after that, we’re checking your vitals. I can’t imagine how much of this has an impact on your body,” he’s mostly talking to himself now, a plan already devised in his plan to bring Komaeda back to stabilized health. Now more than ever, he can’t help but be grateful for the talents he’s accrued, even if he hasn’t really done anything to deserve it. If it meant that he could be the only one to truly stay by Komaeda’s side, then so be it.