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Hajime glanced over at the clock. The digital display read 2:42 AM. He groaned, burying his face in his hands and falling back onto his mattress with an unceremonious thud. He couldn’t sleep. How could anybody sleep at a time like this?
He thought about Fuyuhiko. He wondered if if he was able to get any sleep in his hospital bed with a missing eye and a sliced open stomach. Hajime understood that he was desperate to atone for what he and Peko had done, but Seppuku? Hajime had only ever read about the act in old samurai history. He always thought of it as a barbaric punishment of the past, not something he would ever witness in person. Suicide shouldn’t be a punishment, or an apology. He wondered if Hiyoko was sleepless as well, feeling guilty about what she said to Fuyuhiko to make him do such a thing.
Frustrated, Hajime got up off the bed and turned the lights on in his cottage. Maybe the light will help clear my head, he thought.
He walked over to the bathroom to splash some cool water on his face. The sensation helped to ground him a little. He stood there for a few minutes as images of his classmate clutching his self inflicted, gaping stomach wound flashed through his head.
Blood everywhere. Blood on the floor of the restaurant, Mahiru’s blood on the floor of the beach house, Byakuya’s blood underneath the table in the old building.
Hajime never wanted to see another drop of blood in his life.
*knock* *knock* *knock*
A soft sound coming from his front door pulled him out of his thoughts. He almost didn’t notice the noise, as if the person who knocked had already rejected themselves from being let inside. He opened the door to the sight of one of his more…. interesting classmates.
“Nagito?” Hajime questioned. “It’s the middle of the night. What are you doing here?”
Nagito laughed awkwardly and looked down at the ground. “Hello Hajime. I happened to be awake and noticed that your light was still on. I was wondering if you had a moment to talk but if it’s too late I understand. It was a bad idea, really. A stupid one. I’ll go. Sorry to bother you.”
Just as soon as he arrived, Nagito turned to leave. Hajime was used to his classmate’s self loathing rambling, but something about Nagito’s behavior seemed off, even for him. He reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, signaling for him to turn back around.
“I don’t mind. We can talk for a bit. Why don’t you come in?” He said. Nagito’s face lit up ever so slightly. He nodded his head and followed Hajime inside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They sat in silence for a minute or two while Hajime observed Nagito’s behavior. He wasn’t looking at him, he just stared down at Hajime’s bedsheets with a blank expression on his face. His hands nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket as he appeared to be huddling himself close, something Hajime noticed he often did when he was upset. He supposed it was some sort of self soothing mechanism.
Hajime sighed, realizing he would have to be the one to speak first.
“So… what did you want to talk about?” He questioned.
Nagito quickly looked up at him. The blank look from two seconds was gone, replaced by that familiar smile of his. The one that had initially tricked Hajime into thinking he was just “a chill guy” and not…. Nagito. This time, however, the smile looked forced.
“Oh, just wondering how you were feeling about the events of earlier today,” Nagito replied a little too cheerfully. Then again, he said a lot of morbid things a little too cheerfully.
“Well,” Hajime began, “it’s not exactly….”
He trailed off, still watching Nagito’s fidgeting, now trembling hands, and noticed something alarming.
“What is that?” He asked cautiously. Hidden under his left sleeve, but still visible if one looked hard enough, was a horizontal cut. It looked fresh.
Nagito must have realized that he saw it; he casually put his hands behind his back and tried to change the subject.
“I mean, I don’t think anyone was expecting Fuyuhiko to slit his stomach right then and there. If you ask me, he really….”
Hajime cut off Nagito’s attempt at steering the conversation away from his wrist by pulling it out from behind his back. He carefully rolled up the sleeve.
Numerous cuts lined Nagito’s wrist and forearm. Some were old and already scarred, others looked like they were made a few hours ago. One was still slightly bloody.
Hajime tried to conceal the panic he felt at what he saw. He took a shaky breath, in and out, and slowly stood up. Nagito looked concerned.
“Hajime, I…” he began. Hajime didn’t let him finish.
“It’s okay. I have a first aid kit in the bathroom,” he said with fake calm in his voice, and hurried off to grab it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With Nagito’s hoodie folded up and put off to the side, Hajime began carefully and quietly cleaning and bandaging his wounds. It certainly wasn’t how he pictured his night going, but he was glad that Nagito knocked on his door.
Why is he really here? Hajime wondered. Surely it couldn’t have been just to ask for his thoughts on Fuyuhiko’s suicide attempt, and it wasn’t to ask for help with his own self inflicted injuries, so… why?
Just as he was about to ask, Nagito started talking.
“I don’t think I’ll ever understand you,” he said, still not meeting his eyes.
Really? I could say the same about you, Hajime thought. “Why’s that?”
“Why are you doing this? Why are you being so nice to me? I don’t get it,” Nagito asked dejectedly.
“Well, I doubt you were going to take care of these yourself, were you?” Hajime replied. “I’m just preventing you from getting an infection.”
“But why do you care?” Nagito’s tone was bordering on pleading.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Replied Hajime. Nagito scoffed at that, and chuckled darkly.
“The others wouldn’t like this, you know,” he warned. “They, too, would ask why you’d help someone like me. They might even think you’re the traitor.”
That’s right, the traitor from that World Ender organization. Do they really exist, or is it just another lie from Monokuma meant to stop us from trusting each other?
“Screw the others,” Hajime said. “They can think whatever they want. And I care because this is serious. No one does…. this… unless there’s something seriously wrong. So, if it’s okay to ask, why are you hurting yourself?”
Nagito didn’t respond. He looked confused.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Hajime reassured him. “It’s… I won’t judge you, alright? I just want to know if there’s anything I can do, even if it’s just listening to you.”
Nagito laughed a hollow, humorless laugh, and then finally looked Hajime in the eye. His expression was… troubling. He looked incredulous, like Hajime had just said the most the insane thing he’d ever heard.
“I can’t believe you think you’re ordinary,” Nagito finally said, shaking his head.
“Huh?”
“I mean,” he continued, “if you’re so ‘ordinary,’ then how come I’ve never met anyone like you?” This time, his smile looked genuine. “If you, your kindness, your patience, your understanding, were considered ordinary, the world would be a very different place.”
Hajime wasn’t sure what to say to that. Nagito had the tendency to heap undeserved praise on him, he knew that. He just wasn’t expecting to hear the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him while he was wrapping bandages around that person’s wrist at 3AM. He wouldn’t have seen that coming even if he was the Ultimate Clairvoyant.
“Nagito, when was the last time someone did something genuinely nice for you?” Hajime asked.
“Haha, good question,” Nagito laughed, but didn’t answer. Though, the lack of a response was an answer on its own, Hajime figured.
……..
……
…
“I tried to kill myself.”
“W-what?” Hajime stammered, taken aback.
Nagito sighed. “I fashioned a belt into a noose and tried to kill myself. Just now. I had it around my neck and everything. But then, I thought about you, and I decided to come here instead.”
Hajime was in shock. Total silence for about a minute… and then this?
“Why?!” Hajime practically shouted. “Why would you do that?”
Nagito smiled bashfully. “Like I told you before, I feel… a certain calm when I’m around you that I don’t get from anyone or anything else. It’s not easy to put into words, but…”
“N-not why you came here!” Hajime interrupted, feeling slight heat rise up to his face at Nagito’s words. “Why would you try to kill yourself?” He asked, lowering his voice.
“Ah, that,” Nagito began. “I thought that would’ve been obvious. I’m… awful. I’ve done awful, unforgivable things. I may have done them for a good cause, but the others don’t see it that way.” He looked at the floor again.
“You can blame Monokuma or the nature of the killing game itself all you want, but, really, I’m the one responsible for the deaths of Byakuya and Teruteru. Me, and me alone. Teruteru wouldn’t have killed anyone if I hadn’t manipulated him into doing so. Everyone here hates me, and rightfully so. I would apologize for what I did, but what would be the point? They’d still be dead and I’d still be their killer.”
“You dying wouldn’t bring them back either,” Hajime sternly reminded him.
“Maybe not,” Nagito agreed. “But, you know what they say: an eye for an eye…. Ah, maybe that was in poor taste. You know, considering Fuyuhiko.” He smiled weakly.
“The full saying is ‘an eye for an eye makes the world go blind,’” Hajime said, ignoring Nagito’s awkward attempt at dark humor. “Killing yourself would only make things worse.”
“I disagree, and I imagine the others would too. It would mean I was taken care of without the need for a class trial. I’d be doing everyone a favor, including you.”
“Like hell you would!” Hajime exclaimed. “Like I said, screw the others! I doubt they want you dead, but even if they do, *I* don’t!”
Nagito’s eyes widened at Hajime’s outburst. Hajime remembered where he was, and that it was 3 in the morning, and collected himself.
“Look,” he began, much more calmly this time, “we’ve already lost Byakuya, Teruteru, Mahiru, and Peko. We’ve almost lost Fuyuhiko twice now. Nobody else needs to die. Not even you, no matter what you or anyone else may think.”
Nagito went back to staring at the floor, looking like he was thinking hard about something. Unless they were trying to solve a murder, Nagito thinking never usually lead to anything good.
To stave off another self loathing rant, Hajime inched forward and turned Nagito’s face toward his own. His cheeks turned pink at the act. Hajime felt his own do the same.
“I’m really glad you came here instead of going through with it,” Hajime softly told him.
Nagito nodded slowly. “So am I,” he whispered back, moving closer.
They stayed like that for a heated moment. Hajime was still cupping Nagito’s face with one hand; he leaned into it and closed his eyes, letting the other hold him for a while.
Hajime was shocked at how… natural it felt. At first, he was just trying to be a comfort to someone who clearly needed it. But, now? Now, he found himself unable to look away from the boy in front of him. He had never thought of Nagito, or any other boy, like that before. Well, he used to catch himself staring in the locker room sometimes back during school…. but that was something everybody did, right?
Nagito slowly opened his eyes. They were still half lidded when they met Hajime’s own. Still embarrassed by how warm his face felt at that point, Hajime broke the comfortable silence.
“H-how do you feel right now? Better?” He asked in a hushed voice.
“Better,” Nagito affirmed, voice equally as soft. “If it’s not overstepping, can I stay? I’m not sure I want to be alone.”
Hajime nodded. “Of course.”
And so, they climbed into Hajime’s bed together. As Hajime pulled the sheets up over them, Nagito rested his head on his shoulder and closed his eyes.
“I just feel so safe with you,” he whispered.
Hajime paused for a moment, then wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly, but still comfortably. Intimately.
“Goodnight,” whispered Hajime.
“See you in the morning,” Nagito whispered back, eyes still closed.
They slept until noon, taking comfort in each other’s presences, both of them happy to be alive.