Chapter Text
Light crept through the gap in the cream-coloured blinds of Hajime’s cottage, instantly forcing his eyes wide awake. Groggily, he stumbled on his feet to witness the shameful mess of a desk that had been repeatedly leaned on and hunched over by the brunet over the past few weeks, a few weeks of plain stress and frustration. Documents were strewn all over it, covering the original auburn polish on the mahogany desk. The culmination of what had been restless working nights trying to finish the catastrophe he and the other former Remnants of Despair had once brought upon the world.
Hajime sighed. The days hadn’t gone easy on him, and it was more than probable to knock him off his own feet recently. What with the lack of consumption and daylight feeding the energy off of him. He could take on all of these without complain, no doubt. But the idea of spending the rest of his life seeking to accomplish this humanly impossible feat alone was enough to send shivers down his spine.
Luckily for him, he wasn’t. One of the inhabitants of the array of cottages set beside his was willing to help. And it just had to be him, the weirdest, possibly most unpredictable guy in the team, who would knock the door to Hajime’s living quarters every afternoon to compile his finished work and discuss the next matter. Even with only one individual lending power for his sake, Hajime could feel a tremendous amount of weight lifted off his shoulders which was potent cure for his already heavily burdened psyche. Everytime Nagito appeared on the doorway waving his mechanical left hand, Hajime would release a breath he had never realized he held. The smile on the former’s face, the warm demeanor, the friendly tone… It was more than just a cure. What the brunet didn't realize, was that he’d contracted another disease; love.
After being reawakened from the program, emotions felt like extreme whiplashes in his face. Two years of being Izuru Kamukura transcending beyond human capabilities, physically and psychologically, also meant surpassing said emotions to the point they weren't needed and eventually cast aside like children's toys. Hajime Hinata was buried deep inside him beneath layers of subconsciousness, remaining an unmarked grave until the sight of Chiaki's diminishing life—what Junko described as "a pitiful end"—emerged before him, ultimately summoning the suppressed identity to regain an overwhelming sensation of sorrow minutes before he quickly vanished once again for two whole years. Emotions meant nothing to Izuru Kamukura; they're dull as dull can be. A burden, even, one that insulted his entire existence.
It was to no surprise that he chose to decrease the usage of his talent as the "Ultimate Hope" once his lost memories (the ones that got erased thanks to the Hope Cultivation Project) returned. His cluttered desk—the most unsightly space in his cottage—was proof of that. He could've simply delayed working on those accursed paperwork and forced the Izuru in him to conveniently finish them instantly the next day. Though, if he were to do that, Nagito would stop coming since all was taken care of, and he would have to hear those self-deprecating words spill from the taller man's lips. Hajime could already hear the "Of course, you're way more talented than me!" and the "Why would you even agree to work with scum like me?" coming from a mile away, and if he didn't care as much, he wouldn't feel any remorse. But as a matter of fact, he did.
At least, he didn't have to sacrifice too many hours in the night as he did before Nagito offered help. True, a good night's sleep was still rarer than a diamond, but now he had at least half an hour to take a stroll outside and socialize with the other inhabitants of the now peaceful Jabberwock Island, which was what he was about to do.
The brunet suited up, slid into his usual black trousers and fastened his moss green necktie.
***
The dining hall—what would have been formally called a restaurant before they arrived at the island— was as lively as always, bearing a somewhat casual, holiday-like atmosphere. Alone or with companions, it never fails to pass as the perfect hangout spot, standing in line with the other iconic spots in the archipelago. Fortunately for the inhabitants of Jabberwock Island, this place was where breakfast, lunch and dinner was served by the Ultimate Cook. The interior design was visibly first class; large windows lined with red tulips along its railings allowing warm rays of sunshine to flood in, brazillian cherry hardwood floor that would dampen the sounds of footsteps into pleasant quiet thumps beneath their feet, and the occasional potted plants that adorned the space here and there. The word luxury was practically plastered across the resort, not to mention the individual cottages for every single one of them just outside the hotel.
Simply put, out of all the places in the world, the former class 77-B was lucky enough to be brought here. Was it, by any chance, Izuru's luck? Or perhaps Nagito's? Who knows.
Some of the tables had already been occupied with faces Hajime was familiar with. A few weren't present yet, most likely on their way. He could spot Akane munching ravenously on her food, Sonia chatting with Gundham while petting the Devas along with Peko, and Mitarai sitting on the far corner table with the Ultimate Imposter and Ibuki. He couldn't help but grin at the sight.
𝘐𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘊𝘩𝘪𝘢𝘬𝘪 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.
"Ah, g-g-good morning, Hajime," The timid Ultimate Nurse, Mikan was the first to greet him as he set foot in the restaurant. She considered observing Hajime's health mandatory, taking into account the many times he appeared before his friends looking worse than the day before. "Y-You seem to be b-better..."
The nurse had always been earnest when commenting on others' health, so Hajime took her remark as a sign of progress. "Glad to hear that, Mikan." He simply replied, giving the other a small smile.
"Y-You're still taking those multivitamins, right? A-A-Are you experiencing any s-side effects, I wonder? In that case--"
"Hey, pig barf! If you really want him to get better then just let him eat instead of forcing him to listen to your lame rambling!" A high-pitched voice crudely cut off from the far side of the room, revealing to be Hiyoko's, the Ultimate Traditional Dancer.
"E-Eeeeeek!" A few tears began to well up in the corner of Mikan's eyes. "I-I-I'm sorrrryyyyyy!"
Unsurprisingly untimely, a deep, raspy chuckle bellowed from another table, belonging to the Ultimate Team Manager, Nekomaru Nidai. "You can't just live off of meds and caffeine, Hajime!" He spoke with a friendly grin, immediately taking over the conversation. "When you get those shit done, I'll design a training program just for you and you won't get constipated no more, nuh-uh!"
"Um, I don't think he mentioned being constipated," The redhead Ultimate Photographer from Hiyoko's table, Mahiru, responded in Hajime's stead.
While still facing towards the back-and-forth ensuing in the centre of the restaurant, the brunet strode past and claimed his seat on an empty table next to one of the large windows. He placed his elbow on the smooth tabletop and supported his chin on his palm, musing out into the scenery. As if underwater, the heated conversation behind him began to dissolve into incoherent muffled noises as he zoned out. He absorbed the blue skies, the blue sea, the pale beach, and the green palm trees within his eyesight as his train of thoughts thinned into fragile strings that came and went as they pleased. He was in such an utterly peaceful trance, something he particularly enjoyed after reclaiming his birth name.
He swore he could hear Kazuichi mentioning his pecs in the distance.
"Well, after all, it isn't Hajime without a hefty, hard chest. It would be a shame if he loses such beautifully sculpted bust to lack of training. Oh, how despair-inducing that must be!"
Upon hearing the voice, Hajime whipped his head toward the source. There he stood; the lithe, tall and pale Nagito wearing his usual smile, standing behind Kazuichi who was exceedingly carried away by the discussion. His posture was relaxed, too much that he seemed oblivious towards the staring eyes aimed at him from every individual in the room. Not a single breath was drawn, and the only sounds left were the passing gusts of wind.
Hajime did 𝘯𝘰𝘵 just hear him praise the outline of his torso. Sure, he remembered Chiaki saying something of the sort back in the simulation—which he embarassingly mistook for a more sensual context, but coming from the person he'd been falling for directly? It was like getting impaled by a spear right into his heart, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵. So much so that his face began heating up, threatening to display his flushed cheeks for all to see. No, he couldn't let them know how much the comment really flattered him, so he instinctively turned his face the other way.
"Um, yeah..." The Ultimate Mechanic was first to break the silence, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "You know, that's a pretty weird way to describe it." He added.
"What's wrong with liking beautiful chests? They also make their owner beautiful." Replied the whitette, his expression remaining somewhat innocent.
"... Well, it's just a really weird complime--"
"Are you, perhaps, implying that huge chests are a trait you seek in potential romantic partners?" Sonia suddenly inquired, keeping up her usual regal tone.
The rest of the group grew more bewildered by the blonde royal's unexpected question, especially Hajime, still avoiding showing his face at all. Exceptions to this were Kazuichi, astonished by Sonia's wild assumption, and the person in question, visibly trying to come up with a satisfying answer.
"Amazing deduction, Miss Sonia!" The former praised. "You truly have a golden brai--"
"Well, huge chests are not the main thing I look for in a relationship per se, I'm just saying I prefer dating beautiful people in general." Nagito responded, cutting off poor Kazuichi in the process. "Though, I admit, a worthless scum such as myself does not deserve such an ideal lover. Or even any lover at all! If I do happen to grab someone's attention, it's..."
Everyone saw it coming, the continuous self-deprecating speech Nagito was about to deliver. In less than ten seconds, they had already returned to whatever they were previously doing, conversations quietly picking up once more. To them, what he was rambling on about was nothing but a waste of time to even try to comprehend. Everyone—but the Ultimate Imposter, of course—had their fair share of these bizarre lectures about worthlessness and hope, things they didn't care enough about to willingly stay for an hour listening to, especially considering how they were delivered from such a twisted, unusual perspective. Hajime would've chosen to turn away as well, but this time in particular, he couldn't. The string of words pouring out of Nagito's lips were surprisingly significant to him; everything he was saying now was directly invalidating his feelings towards him. All this talk about not deserving love and admiration when someone in that room was very eager to provide him so was incredibly painful.
𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘕𝘰, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵!
Instincts kicking in and face less warm, Hajime let his feet take him to where Nagito was standing, who was still indulging in his speech manifesting in intensely passionate eyes and a crazed grin. He grabbed the latter's wrist—albeit not as gently as he intended—and proceeded to lead him to the table where he was sitting earlier, the act in itself enough to shut the whitette up in confusion. Pulling one of the wooden chairs, he gestured for the other boy to sit down, which he did rather awkwardly.
"Look," Hajime began, trying to regulate his emotions as they talked. "I'm getting you breakfast. What do you want?"
"Hajime? What are you doing?"
"Just answer it."
Finding anything to say but the demanded answer became a difficult task for Nagito, since he knew Hajime wasn't one to accept engaging in small talk when he was really determined to stir the conversation in a certain way. "I'm getting what you're getting." Was all he could muster.
The brunet nodded, then headed off to pick one of the food arranged on a bigger table near the kitchen, since theirs didn't have any on it. His eyes were already fixed on the lavish buffet (which was hardly necessary) stocked with white, steamed rice as well as the high-grade dishes positioned around it that could compose the finest traditional Japanese breakfast he would've ever had his entire life. But when he looked back at his waiting breakfast companion, he was reminded of how said individual wasn't fond of rice, thanks to a memory from his time at the simulator that struck unforgettable.
Deciding to respect Nagito's preferences, he sighed and scoured the table for another meal to return with. His eyes now landed on the set of bacon sandwiches arranged meticulously on a turntable placed just a feet away from the Japanese dishes. He would be lying if he said they didn't look appetizing; the thick, ravishing symmetrical golden-brown toasts mashing together a band of tender, glistening bacon strips smeared with a thick layer of melted cheese (was that mozzarella?). It wasn't until then when Hajime became aware of the drool rolling down his lips as he was still fixated on the delicacy. Hoping nobody saw the embarrassing little scene, he wiped his lips clean using a sleeve before scooping the sandwiches onto a smaller plate and returning to his seat.
"Here," He pushed the plate across the table for Nagito to catch it with ease.
"Thanks, Ha-- Wait..." The lean man squinted at his breakfast and tested the smell of it. Meanwhile, Hajime had already begun feasting on his portion, completely uninterrupted. "Did you really just handpicked this... For me?"
No answer, only the sounds of a tired man (a.k.a Hajime) chewing on his meal.
A laugh erupted from Nagito's throat. "To think that someone would care about my preference--! The preference of trash like me!" He remarked, before ultimately consuming the lone sandwich in front of him due to the absence of any response from the man across him. Though, not quite as voraciously compared to him.
As time passed, the folk within the room started to come and go as the sun gradually rose higher up into the sky. The long breakfast was spent by neither of them uttering a single word, their attention wholly centered around their meals. Even so, it didn't matter as much to Hajime; he appreciated even silence as long as he was with Nagito.
***
Before long, Hajime made his way back to the cottage. Whereas everybody else was seeking some other activity to engage in, some even travelling to the other islands, he decided to lock himself in the walls of his living quarters once again and sit endlessly on his desk, finishing up the pile of work he'd stacked disarranged surrounding the black laptop sitting in the middle of the mess like a pagan statue circled by its devout followers. It was getting better, the more work he'd done, the less his stress and then he would be able to rejoice with his friends and make up for what time they lost in the simulator together. How wonderful that would be, lest Makoto started giving him another month's worth of paperwork. Thankfully, the aforementioned stack had already been decreased third-quarter of its initial size now—which wasn't much—but Hajime was awfully confident that he could finish them in a day or two.
𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦... 𝘈 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘭𝘭--
The sound of his doorbell ringing pierced through his self-reassuring monologue. Normally, he would respond by telling them to come in themselves but since he wasn't in the midst of typing and reading, he came to get the door himself. Who would be paying him a visit so early after breakfast, he wondered as he reached for the doorknob. Upon swinging it open, three faces focused on him with eyes fully brimming with warmth; the princess, the gangster and the swordswoman, crowded together in front of the entrance.
Sonia, on the utmost front just a few inches away from his face, cleared her throat. "Greetings, Hajime!" She chirped. "We sincerely apologize for the intrusion, but are you currently occupied with work?"
A flustered expression made its way onto his face. "Um..." He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, towards his desk. "Well, I haven't started yet. I was just about to begin--"
"Splendid!" The blonde joined her hands together in a steeple, seeming unexpectedly elated. "We would like to offer you assistance!"
"Assistance with... what?"
"Your paperwork," Peko answered from behind Sonia, wearing a neutral expression per usual. "We'll finish it for you."
Hajime was slightly startled by the bold declaration. "Wh-What? What are you talking about?"
"You know what we're talking about, man." This time, Fuyuhiko chimed in with a casual tone. "The damn papers you gotta work with! Even you can't lie that your face looked like shit these past three weeks just 'cuz you pulled all-nighters for this crap!"
The three looked incredibly firm in their statements which rendered Hajime clueless. He didn't know how to come up with an adequate answer, other than "Look guys, I really appreciate the concern, but don't you have work to do too?"
To which Sonia, who regained his attention gracefully replied with, "Are you perhaps referring to our quests to atone? You shan't fret about that, Hajime Hinata! No problemo!" She striked an assertive power pose in an effort to reassure the brunet. "Your work is of no hindrance to our respective quests, since we have them under control. Besides, prior to coming here, I have requested Kazuichi of his expertise in machinery to provide me a functioning laptop so that I can work wherever I'm standing, seeing as the departure to my kingdom is coming near."
"O... Okay. And..." Hajime turned to the two other visitors. "What about you two? Shouldn't you be leaving for Nagano this afternoon?"
"Who cares about that?" Fuyuhiko sighed. "I know we've been delaying this forever, but honestly? I wouldn't mind if I had business to take care of just to delay it further. What's gonna be there when we arrive isn't really fun to think of either, so I'd be glad to do some paperwork."
For a split second, Peko's eyes seemed to flash a melancholic look at her master before locking her cold gaze back at Hajime. "We need a lot of time to prepare ourselves mentally, but we'd be happy to have ourselves occupied."
The ex-Reserve Course Student took a moment to process the offer. Coming from a place of sympathy, a few classmates of his had offered aid in his work in the past, yet all he rejected but Nagito—who threatened to give him another lecture from dawn till dusk if he didn't accept the "generous" proposition. Hajime could recall how adamant the man was as he delivered the statement. The way his eyes shone when he first appeared at the door saying "Allow me to help you!" and cast his gaze downwards as he said "Of course, what good would scum like me be to you..." before going nuts and turning the offer into a legible threat, Hajime could never forget the turn of events that took place that afternoon. Even he was still conflicted on the reason Nagito decided to help him.
Perhaps, it was because he was formerly the one and only Ultimate Hope? Or was it something else?
Hajime's doubt began to manifest in his expression coupled with a few hesitant heel tappings. "I'm not so sure. Besides, they'll be done in a little more, I promise. Just a few more, and I'll be free of thi--"
"Hey, I don't know if you realize this," Interrupted Fuyuhiko. "But you say that everytime we offer you help ever since you started, it's almost like your catchphrase. You said it'd be over in a flash, but you look like a bogeyman every morning after you "finished". We know you're working for us and all, tryna' take over the documents so we wouldn't have to, but give yourself a fucking break, man. You're stressed about your work, we're stressed about you."
Peko nodded in agreement. "There hasn't been a time where Mikan didn't exert herself trying to supply medicine to improve your health."
A blush crept onto Hajime's face as he stared at his three friends in awe. "You guys..."
"Do not worry! We will take good care of your tasks, and we'll accomplish them surpassing everyone's merits!"
"Just trust them to us!"
"They'll be finished before you know it."
Butterflies in his stomach and heart growing three sizes was what it felt like for Hajime to be subjected to such a warm gesture of affection. He genuinely believed everyone around him had a tinge of concern in their conscience for him, as evident on their faces everytime he walked by, but never had he realized how much he meant to them. He mattered to them as much as they mattered to him. The moment felt so timeless, like a fleeting miracle waiting to be in his grasp.
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘙𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘊𝘩𝘪𝘢𝘬𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
"... Thank you."