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The island is always sunny.
It’s the first thing Hajime notices. Not a cloud in the sky except for a few stubborn wisps that drift away like unspooling cotton. An endless expanse of robins egg blue that melts into picturesque sunsets and postcard-worthy sunrises. White sand that sifts through his fingers, gentle ocean waves that lap at his toes, gentle sun rays that kiss at his tanned shoulders.
It’s suspicious.
And yet…
Nothing happens. The sun keeps shining, the sky stays clear. The spontaneous school trip treks on uninterrupted with Magic Miracle Girl Usami at the helm. The Ultimates mill about peacefully, Hope Fragments jingling in their pockets and shining like prisms when held up to the light. Unnatural rainbow hues and auras that make Hajime feel sick. Shoving the gems away in the very back of his nightstand drawer so that he doesn’t have to look at them.
And maybe he’s just paranoid. Still on edge from when that bear jumped in and started blathering on about murder and death. But that oddity ended just as soon as it began. And now he’s just stupid Hinata Hajime. Too afraid to swim. Too dumb to even remember his own talent. Too oblivious to the fact he’s gay until it’s staring him right in the face.
Yeah, all his problems and imminent sexuality crisis circle back to the same person.
L/N F/N.
It’s his own damn fault for making Hajime like him. He’s just...he’s just likeable. Easy to talk to, easy to be around. A flash of teeth, an upwards tug of perfect kissable lips that makes Hajime flounder, stumble. He lets Mioda paint his nails. He pets Tanaka’s hamsters-- Devas, whatever--with a delicate pinky finger. He listens to Sonia gush about anime and serial killers and serial killer animes with an enraptured, attentive smile. He has everyone wrapped around his finger and he doesn’t even know it.
He hated it at first. The way the entire island seemed to follow L/N’s every step. Hanging off his arm and swooning at just the sound of his voice. L/N-kun over here! L/N-san come look at this! L/N-kun do you want to hang out today, just the two of us?
(“It’s his talent,” Komaeda gushes while Hajime is only half listening. Glaring holes into L/N’s back as he laughs good-naturedly at Nidai’s toilet inclined humor. Arm wrestling with Owari and grinning even as she slams down his hand for the umpteenth time. The girl whooping victoriously as L/N hands her the packaged goodies he’d won from the MonoMono machine. Scarfing them down in a hurry before curling her fingers around his once again. A hot spark of annoyance--definitely not jealousy--shooting down Hajime’s spine as L/N squeezes back in challenge.
“He’s perfect, isn’t he Hinata-Kun? So hopeful and wonderful and ah, did you see that? I think he looked at us! I might die from happiness!”
“Shut up,” he mumbles, something fluttering in his stomach as L/N gives them a quick wave. Happy expression twisting in indignation as Owari uses the distraction to slam his hand down once again.
“He’s not even that great.”)
And he’s not. He’s not he’s not he’s not. He repeats it over and over until maybe maybe he believes it. Lying awake with his head smothered beneath the pillow to drown out thoughts of perfect smiles and perfect teeth and perfect perfect lips that curl around his name. Drawing out the syllables as his tongue touches his teeth and spells ‘Hinata Hinata Hinata.’
(“Hinata.”
He jumps. Slamming his head against the shelf and wincing as prepackaged bags of chips fall to the floor in a crumpled heap. Headache pulsing behind his eyes, he glances up and immediately falters as L/N comes into view. A shocked look on his face as he surges forward and frets about like a mother hen.
“Shit, are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you like that…”
“I wasn’t scared,” Hajime objects, perhaps a bit too harshly. Glaring at the bags of chips pooled around his feet, “damnit, now I have to pick those up.”
“Let me help,” L/N offers without pause. Dropping down to his knees and quickly gathering the bags in his arms. And Hajime’s flustered and still standing and not helping at all you idiot.
“Why are you here?” Oh, that came out wrong. Blunt and harsh and not at all the question he meant for it to be.
But L/N takes it in stride. Smile not even faltering as he neatly lines up the bag of potato chips and rises back to his feet. “For you, obviously,” and now Hajime’s even more flustered. And he’s sure his face is a bright, firetruck red by the way his cheeks burn, “did you know there’s a fucking... amusement park here?”
“I mean...yeah?”
L/N’s jaw drops. Voice pitching up until it almost squeaks, “and you didn’t tell me!?”
“...no?”
An evil, conniving grin spreads across L/N’s face. And if Hajime wasn’t so distracted by the unidentifiable fluttering in his stomach, he’d have the sense to be scared.
“Well, c’mon!” L/N grabs hold of Hajime’s hand and tugs. Dragging him out of Rocketpunch Market and towards one of the many surrounding bridges, “we’re riding the roller coasters until we puke.”)
Hajime didn’t puke that day. But he realized two completely groundbreaking things at once.
(“You’re scared of heights?” Hajime hisses, peering over the edge of the Ferris Wheel carriage the two of them are trapped on. The ground seemingly miles below as the scattering of land that makes up Jabberwock Island comes into full view, “why’d you bring us here then!?”
“I don’t know!” L/N shouts in the exact tone of someone who does know. Eyes squeezed shut and hidden behind balled up fists, “but I didn’t expect us to be trapped!”
Hajime sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers in exasperation. A stab of pity slicing through him as the carriage rocks from a particularly harsh gust of wind, L/N’s bitten off shriek punctuating the movement. His stomach plummets to his feet not as the carriage falls, but as L/N’s hand darts out and intertwines with his own. Squeezing so tightly that he swears his fingers are turning purple.
“I just…” L/N mumbles, voice snatched away by the wind so that Hajime can barely hear it, “I wanted to do something you might like and...now we’re here.” He chuckles awkwardly and lets go of Hajime's hand, and he strangely finds himself missing the warmth. “It’s stupid...I just wanted you to like me.”
“I do like you.”
“You don’t have to make me feel better, I know you don’t,” his smile is strained, “and that’s fine! I can’t go through life expecting everyone to be my friend so...yeah.”
And Hajime. Stupid, amnesiatic Hajime boldly reaches out and takes L/N’s hand of his own volition. Brain catching up with his body just in time to catch the small, happy little smile on L/N’s face. Realization dousing him like a bucket of ice water as another breeze rushes by and L/N grips his hand tighter.
“I’m sorry,” Hajime stumbles. Tongue thick in his mouth as his thoughts slow like molasses, “I do want to be your friend.”
L/N grins. Wide and fond and Hajime realizes he’s fallen and it’s just far too late. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”)
And Hajime’s selfish like that. Greedy like a magpie for the perfect sunshine boy that he just wants to gather up and tuck behind his ribs. Weak in the knees like a schoolgirl with a crush as he breaks down and cries because ‘ he can’t remember his talent. What if he doesn’t have one, what will he do then what will he do what what what .’ And L/N holds him close and whispers ‘You don’t need a talent to make a difference. You’re already doing it right now, with or without one. You’re amazing. You’re strong. You’re brave. You’re smart. You’re Hinata Hajime and you’re my best friend.’
Best friend, best friend, best friend. It makes him want to cry because he wants more. Because he can’t settle for just being the friend, the platonic shoulder to lie on, the stupid pining wingman. He wants to shout to the heavens and scream that he loves his best friend and he doesn’t care what anyone says (but he does care. But he doesn’t. But he does? He does). He wants to kiss him and hold him and slide a ring on his finger and say ‘I do--’
“Holy shit, are you and Komaeda holding hands!? ”
And just like that, everything comes to a screeching halt. Souda’s thoughtless accusation turning heads and breaking hearts as everyone’s focus turns to the spotlighted couple. And indeed, they are in fact holding hands. Komaeda’s shaking ones and L/N’s steady ones holding strong even beneath scrutiny. L/N shifting in front of Komaeda almost protectively as the other mumbles and shakes and covers his face with his free hand.
“Yeah, so?” L/N says, tone dark and venomous. A vicious challenge that seems to say I dare you to take this away from me. Gaze flitting from each person in turn as he waits for someone to dare try and speak.
And out of everyone, Kuzuryuu steps to the plate. “Eh, who gives a shit. Fuck who you want to fuck, I could care less who you stick your dick in.”
A pause.
Saionji barks with pitchy laughter, Koizumi objects to the vulgar language, Mioda chirps with excitement and throws a friendly arm around Tsumiki. And with that, normal chatter fades back into the restaurant. The new couple shuffling to the farthest booth as they put up with the stares and the few that choose to approach them. Awkward congratulations and apologies that L/N accepts as Komaeda vibrates with excitement and awe. The two exchanging soft, gentle looks as L/N curls his fingers around Komaeda’s even tighter. Shifting closer and leaning in as he listens carefully to what Komaeda has to say. Komaeda’s free hand gesturing wildly as his eyes remain glued to L/N like he can’t believe that this is his .
And Hajime’s heart... shatters.
Because L/N was never his to begin with, and yet he feels... stolen. Which is an awful, stupid thought because L/N is not a thing to take. He is a person. A kind, thoughtful, caring person who Komaeda saw and Komaeda liked and they chose each other in the end.
So Hajime distances himself. Excuses and lies that pile up as he tries to avoid his crush and his crush's boyfriend. And it works, until it doesn’t.
He stumbles across them in the library. Curled up together on the overstuffed, patchwork couch without a care in the world. Komaeda’s back to L/N’s chest as he pages through a random book. L/N’s chin propped up on his shoulder as he whispers and hums into Komaeda’s neck. Hugging him close even as pale skin flushes pink and white lashes flutter. A sad smile hides behind Komaeda’s hand as he says something that must be self-deprecating, and L/N takes that hand in his own and presses his lips to the knuckles. Reassurances and praise tumbling from his lips as Komaeda squirms in a feeble effort to get away. Held in place by L/N’s firm, unyielding grip until he goes limp and acquiesces to whatever L/N’s saying with a flustered nod.
Hajime leaves before either of them notice he’s there.
He’s fine, he’s fine, he’s fine! He repeats it over and over until he may just believe it. He’s not sulking like Nanami says. And yeah, he may be sitting at the shore while everyone else plays in the water. But what if that bear shows up again? Someone has to be on lookout! It has nothing to do with the way Komaeda and L/N are clutching at each other in the water. Giggling laughter and playful splashing that definitely does not make his heart twist in jealousy.
And oh, that’s L/N calling his name. Waving over to him as his lips move and mouths something that looks like ‘come here!’ Sunshine smile turning to a frown as Hajime turns his head and pointedly stares out at the horizon. Hurt flashing across his face as guilt stabs through Hajime’s traitorous heart. And like the perfect, compassionate boy he is, L/N starts making his way towards the beach. Worried expression twisting with pain as his leg buckles and he falls forward into the water. Hajime’s eyes wide with fear as he lurches forward to do something . To catch him before he can break the waves.
But it’s Komaeda who catches him. Komaeda who carries him to shore and frets and shakes as blood drips down L/N’s punctured sole. A jagged seashell having dug deep into the ball of his foot. And strangely, it’s Komaeda that L/N comforts, not the other way around. Pulling him down and kissing seaspray from his cheek as he murmurs reassurances and soft promises. Quieting Komaeda’s rambles of luck and death and doom with a long kiss to the lips. Pressing their foreheads together and not breaking a stream of soft, gentle words as the others rush to shore. Tsumiki heading the front as she tends to L/N’s foot, stammering under a fountain of thanks from the injured boy.
And Hajime stays frozen. Useless, stupid Hajime that can’t remember his own talent. That can’t be happy for his friend and instead stews in petty, meaningless bullshit. Imagining the taste of sea salt on his tongue and sunlight on his lips that he can never, ever feel.
The island is always sunny.
But the only sunshine Hajime cares for has clouded over.