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The ocean lights up as the fireworks burst overhead, but Nagito isn’t interested in the vibrant display above. He only has eyes for what is right in front of him.
Hajime. Right here, so close. Leaning in with a hand cupped against Nagito’s ear, as if ready to share a dangerous secret. But as the fireworks grow louder and more frequent, it becomes impossible to understand, only to feel the warmth left in the wake of whispered words. Hajime sighs and pulls away, deciding that whatever he has to say can wait.
Nagito doesn’t push the issue; he’s already worn his luck to the edge and back. Sooner or later, it will run out, and the world will come crashing down around him.
Soon, but not yet. When Hajime laces their fingers together and the fireworks don’t ignite the palms on the beach, Nagito feels as if he will die of good fortune.
His luck is a balance; he’s known this for a while. That glorious day he fell asleep sweaty and pressed against Hajime’s side in the hospital room was one of the highest peaks his luck has ever allowed him to reach. Hajime threw all caution and sensibility out the window when he contracted the Despair Disease, and by the end of their encounter, Nagito was expecting to die satisfied. Instead, Hajime asked him to stay the night.
The next day, his luck sought to restore the balance. Mikan tried to kill Ibuki. But then… Hajime walked in and stopped it. He stopped a murder. He brought Mikan back from the brink of despair. Nagito always knew there was something special about Hajime, but this was beyond what any normal Ultimate should be able to do.
The incident threw a wrench in the perfectly balanced ecosystem that Nagito had come to know. The retribution came calling when everyone woke up trapped in a funhouse. Nagito entered the Final Dead Room preparing to set things right, but Hajime followed behind. Together, they loaded a single bullet into the gun and with their combined wits, led everyone out of the funhouse, alive. Nagito’s luck was once again outmaneuvered by Hajime. He inspired something beyond hope, something more akin to salvation. But in order to reach it, Nagito is certain that the ultimate sacrifice must be made. Tonight on the beach, the night before the countdown reaches zero, Nagito would give himself to whatever despair his luck demands if it will lift Hajime even higher.
“It’s happening again, isn’t it?”
Hajime is leaning over and squeezing Nagito’s hand. His voice is loud and hard enough to be heard over the fireworks.
“Hm?”
“You’re thinking of dying again.”
A chill wracks his body. Hajime really is amazing. He too can sense that something monumental must happen tonight in order to round out their killing school trip. But still, how could he know? Was telepathy a part of his still unknown ultimate talent?
“It’s not up to me.” Nagito knows his luck, and he knows it well. It is not something truly explainable to others. He can feel its ebb and flow, and understands it as an immovable force. It would be beyond his station to even try.
“You thought your luck would turn after we left the hospital because we had gotten together, but it didn’t.”
“My luck must have deemed it necessary for us to rise a little higher first. That’s what hope does. It fuels the fall.”
“That’s hope, maybe, but not luck. It wasn’t luck that brought me and Chiaki to the department store to find Mikan buying rope. It certainly wasn’t luck that made her attack me, nor was it luck that led to a conversation in which she eventually broke down and admitted everything. It was something else. It was you.”
“Me?” Nagito laughs. “I didn’t tell Mikan to do that!”
“You sent me out to find her.”
“I certainly did not.”
Hajime takes a deep, steadying breath. His voice is calm and confident despite his seemingly nonsensical commentary. “You believe so strongly in your luck, Nagito. But luck can only take us so far. Sometimes, it’s nothing more than happenstance, but other times, it can inspire decisive action. I saw the look on your face when you told me something bad would happen. It looked like you were going to fall apart. I wanted to try and change that.”
“So you went looking for trouble?”
“I went looking for a way to change the bad things that you are attuned to. You’ve suffered so much, Nagito. I wanted to help.”
The roar of the fireworks fades to a dull hum, overpowered by the sound of his heart beating, as if it would burst as he clings to Hajime’s every word.
“I saw that look in your eyes again when we entered the funhouse,” Hajime continues. “I could tell you were preparing for the worst after we spent the day in the amusement park together. We had fun. With the others, and… and with each other.” Nagito blushes, remembering what they did together in the house of mirrors. “I wanted to make sure it didn’t, so I followed you into the Final Dead Room where I found you with 5 bullets in the gun. We escaped without a murder, even though it was requested of us.” He brushes the hair from Nagito’s eyes. “You look like you’re on the edge again. The anticipation. The feeling of it being too good to be true. But don’t you see? It’s up to us, too.”
“It can’t be,” Nagito says, grappling for what is known and familiar. “Look around. Dismemberment. Drowning. Suffocation. There are any number of things that can go wrong. You can’t be everywhere at once.”
“Right. That’s why I enlisted help. Sonia checked the fireworks before the show started. There are no dangerous explosives mixed in, and Monomi is operating them safely over the ocean. Gundham and Chiaki have fire extinguishers at the ready that have been tested, and Fuyuhiko, Hiyoko, and Ibuki have the fire grenades. We checked for tampering there, too.
“I also instructed everyone to stay out of the water, with Kazuichi and Akane on guard, so no drowning. Mikan and Nekomaru are on standby with CPR training, just in case. And I’m here with you on this private beach so you don’t run off and do something unnecessarily. I need you here.”
Impossible. Impossible that Hajime would feel that way, that he would pour so much trust into someone like himself to try and change the outcome that luck has already rolled. It simply can’t happen. Nagito’s luck has proven that time and time again.
“What do you need me here for?” he dares to ask.
“For this.” Hajime gently kisses him on the cheek. “Nothing bad will happen,” he says. “We stopped the killing game. We’re going home tomorrow when the countdown ends, and tonight is our well-earned celebration that I intend to enjoy with you. That’s what I was gonna tell you before the show started. Now, say it.”
A future filled with hope? That’s not dependent upon his luck? What’s left when luck is gone? But no… that’s not what Hajime is saying. Nagito’s own luck inspired Hajime, because Hajime was watching Nagito. Is this some kind of new luck? One where he can be believed and entrusted with such an important duty if he lets go of the what-ifs and leaves it to Hajime?
Is that a future that Nagito can really have?
“Nothing bad will happen,” he tries.
“Good,” Hajime says. “But I don’t believe you.” He trails his lips lower to Nagito’s neck. “Say it again.”
“Nothing bad will happen.”
“Again.”
“Nothing bad will… ah, H-Hajime—”
Nagito never finishes. He’s pushed down, back flat against the sand with Hajime leaning into him, pulling at his clothes. Without breaking contact, Nagito arches his back, and once the jacket clears his arms, he wraps himself around Hajime as Hajime’s hands slide under Nagito’s shirt.
Maybe Hajime contracting the Despair Disease was the worst best luck of Nagito’s life. Maybe the rest of his life would be filled with his own bad luck trying to take him down.
But with Hajime here with him like this, maybe the rest doesn’t matter.