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Nagito paced back and forth, rereading the note he had written. Should he really let Hajime read it? What if it ruined their relationship, just as he feared? Hajime wouldn’t judge him. Maybe it would be fine, and he was just overthinking it.
Maybe it would go exactly as he feared.
Nagito’s eye twitched. Just stop thinking. If he could just stop thinking, it would be fine. No thought to it, just set the note down on the bed or dresser or something in his room, and leave. Forget about the note. Maybe Hinata wouldn’t mention it.
He slowly twisted the doorknob handle to Hajime’s room (he always left it unlocked just in case Nagito needed something) and crept in. Nagito looked around to check if anybody was there (though it would have been a bit too late for that, as he was already smack dab in the middle of the room). Nobody was there. It was just Hajime’s normally neat and plain room. That was a good sign, at least.
Nagito sighed. He reluctantly put the carefully folded note down on the table. He stared at it a moment more before turning around to lea-
“Nagito…?” a calm voice said. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” Nagito swiveled around to see Hajime standing in the doorway. He quickly snatched up the letter (after fumbling around with it for a bit) and shoved it in his pocket.
“E-e-eve-ev-ever-everything’s f-f-f-fine.” he spat, staring at Hajime with wide eyes. Hopefully, he hadn’t noticed the letter.
Hajime frowned. Something was up. Nagito wouldn’t come in his room just to say that everything was okay. He usually either wanted to bang or needed comfort of some sort. Besides, what made this even more suspicious was the piece of paper Nagito was trying to hide. “Really? Everything’s okay..? You didn’t need something?”
Komaeda shook his head. “N-No. Nope! Every-ev-everything’s oka-ok-okay!” he said, though his thoughts were filled with the exact opposite. Everything wasn’t okay. He shouldn’t lie to Hajime. He shouldn’t be like this. This was no better than Kokichi lying.
“What’s in your pocket?” Hajime asked, approaching Nagito. Something was definitely up, and he was going to find out what. With a quick and sudden movement, Hajime had somehow obtained the paper from within Nagito's grasp.
"H-Hey!!" Nagito screeched. Fuck. Fuck, fuck. He was reading it. Everything was going downhill. Oh god, oh fucking god, oh god.
Hajime carefully inspected the letter. It was a handwritten note from Nagito. Why exactly the other man was hiding a note he wrote to him, but whatever the case was, he was going to read it... Just to make sure everything was okay.
It read:
“I know you know I can’t really… talk that well, and… I don’t know really how to even attempt to communicate to you other than writing something down. So here goes nothing.
Sometimes, it feels like there’s a city going on inside my head. Busy. Loud. No matter how many times I try to stop everything, it keeps going on and on and on and on and it won’t shut up. It won’t quiet down, even for a little bit. I’m not even in control of my own thoughts. Of my own mind. I want to be in control, but I know that’s not going to happen.
Within the… uproar of thoughts in my mind, there’s a person. Like me, but a shadow. He’ll follow me every waking moment of my life reminding me to never get too happy, too attached, or have too many friends. He knows as much as I do that my so-called “luck” will rip them right out of my hands and I’ll be alone again. Some days it feels like it’s not even worth it to get up and go about the day. I don’t feel like doing anything productive.
Then other days, I just feel lonely. Like nobody’s there on my side. I’m on my own. The shadow supports that thought. “That’s all you’ll ever be, Komaeda. A lonely, insane freak. You’re worthless. You don’t deserve Hajime, or his love. You don’t deserve anybody’s love.” the shadow says, as he puts his cold, silencing hands on my mouth. I can’t scream. He won’t let me. He won’t let me call for help. Not that I could anyways, as I can barely even hold a conversation with anybody.
Which, speaking of, I’m not good with talking to people. That’s a well-known fact. Oftentimes, I don’t know what to say. When I do talk and try to hold a conversation, I don’t realize what I’m saying may offend people. I’m not good at social cues. I don’t understand them. It feels like when I try to make my points clear, people seem to understand it as much as they can see through a fogged mirror. That’s why I’m scared to talk to people about how I feel. About the shadow. That’s why I’m scared to talk to you. I’m scared you’ll think I’m a crazy weirdo who needs to be institutionalized. Of course I’m already that, but you don’t think that, right? I-I want to keep it that way. I want to keep it where I know you won’t leave me, or think bad of me. It feels like that’s the only thing I’m sure of. The only thing I feel in control of. I know you try to help me (with the whole “find something good about yourself and compliment yourself in the mirror” thing. It’s a bit awkward, but i’ll keep trying for you), but I’m scared of losing you and if I talk to you about this I may lose you and I don’t wanna risk that.
Funny how this note is contradicting all that I said, about being afraid to talk to you. Maybe it is a dumb idea. Maybe you won’t read it because I chickened out last minute.
I don’t know.
Living in my mind feels like living in hell. I feel like I’m constantly suffering. Sometimes I feel like giving up because there’s no point in going on what’s the point if living is just to suffer 24 hours a day what’s the point of living if you can’t even trust your own mind to tell you what’s real and what’s a figment what’s the point of living if your body wants to constantly fail you because it’s so damn frail what’s the point of living if you can’t tell what people actually feel and what you think they feel really the only thing keeping me going is you hajime you help me you help me quiet things down and i feel like when i’m around you all the thoughts quiet down and the shadow goes away you help me but i don’t even deserve your help i should suffer hajime shouldn’t feel despair over me he should feel hope hope i’ll never feel hope everyone would feel if i just shut up and die[d] (there was a hole in the paper. Hajime assumed it was ‘died’, as it seemed to look like it, but it was very messy so he really couldn’t tell.)
I’m sorry if you’re reading this hajime
I’m sorry.
I love you
I don’t want to lose you.”
Hajime looked up from the note only to see Nagito, who was failing at an attempt to hold back tears. The other man wiped his eyes with his sleeve and took a shaky breath. A sharp pang of sadness hit Hajime’s heart like a punch to the face. It hurt him to see Nagito scared and sad like this. “N-Nagito….” he muttered, gently setting down the note on the bed.
Nagito finally let out a sob. He couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. It was over. Hajime would leave him, and he’d have nothing to hold onto anymore. The one thing he truly cared about would be gone. “I-I’m s-s-s-sorry. You sh-sh-should h-hav-have never r-r-read that. You probably think I’m crazy and obsessive, and-”
Hajime pitifully laughed. “Wh-where would you get that assumption? N-Nagito, I would never think that. I would never leave you, or think you’re obsessive…” He took a step towards his boyfriend. “I would… love to help you. You want help, and you acknowledge you need it. That’s… a big step forward, I would say.”
Komaeda bit his lip and frowned, running his fingers through his messy, wavy hair. Was he only saying this because of the note, or was he saying this because he cared? He hit his head with his wrist and let out another violent sob. Why couldn’t he shut up? Why couldn’t his thoughts just be quiet for once?! Why couldn’t he make up his damn mind!? “I-I don’t deserve your help though!” he yelped. He continued to run his fingers through his hair over and over again. Why couldn’t he calm down? Why can’t he handle this correctly? Why couldn’t he just….
Hajime nervously straightened his tie and took another step closer. Nagito was clearly upset, as he was having a full-blown meltdown. “Hey, hey, hey, hey…. Nagito, look. Don’t get upset. There’s nothing to be upset about.” he sighed, grabbing one of Nagito’s hands. Hajime took his other hand and placed it on Nagito’s face, wiping a tear away with his thumb. “And don’t say that. You deserve the world, Nagito Komaeda.”
Nagito’s eyes slowly met Hajime’s. He slowed his breathing (it was getting a bit hard to breathe, as anxiety triggered his asthma and it wasn’t exactly a good idea to hyperventilate with the severity of his asthma) and took another shaky, tear filled breath. Looking at Hajime’s face gave him a sense of calmness. A sense of… hope, he figured. Hope he hadn’t seemed to feel in a long while.
Hajime then did what Nagito least expected. He wrapped his arms around him and hugged him. Nagito’s eyes shot open in shock as he felt his boyfriend embrace him.
“I love you, alright? Don’t ever forget that. We’re going to fix this together. You deserve the world, and I plan on giving that to you in any way I can. Like I said, I love you, Nagito Komaeda. I’ll say it 100 more times if that’s what it takes to get it through your skull. I love you.”
Nagito took a moment, then began to cry again. Only this time, it was tears of happiness. He hugged Hajime back and put his chin on his shoulder. “Thank you.”
End