Chapter Text
Normal. It’s an interesting concept and a notoriously abstract idea. Simple in theory but nearly impossible to really pin down.
What is a normal life? What does having one look like?
An important question, especially to Hajime; because after all the events that had unfolded inside the Neo World Program Hajime was sure he'd never feel normal again.
And if his single blood red eye was any consolation, he'd never look it either. But he still found himself clinging to the small things he could recall from before everything in his life had turned upside down.
Birthdays were normal, and by extension birthday parties. So when Hajime proposed one for Nagito on a crisp April morning he thought he'd be overjoyed, or at the very least, appreciative.
But he'd been unenthusiastic to say the least.
“If you really want to, Hajime.” he said in a stiff tone. The ‘ because I don't’ was obvious, even if he hadn’t said it out loud.
Hajime would typically have gotten upset at Nagito's dismissive attitude towards his thoughtful proposal, but he knew better. Aside from his general aversion to being celebrated, Nagito's crippling fear of his own luck was most likely the real culprit.
Because for every fun or relaxing activity Hajime had ever suggested, Nagito would protest, always graciously taking the time to walk Hajime through a distressingly thorough explanation of every way it could go wrong.
If Nagito had it his way Hajime was convinced they would spend all of their days holed up in his cottage surrounded high security booby traps, and triple wrapped in bubble wrap just for good measure.
Normally Hajime would then concede, chalk it up to it being a ‘dumb idea in the first place’ and leave it at that. He was sure Nagito would prefer that, he didn’t like to argue. It was funny, for someone Hajime used to regard as unpredictable and dangerous he was surprisingly passive.
But despite how much Hajime knew how much Nagito hated to disagree, this time he was putting his foot down. He wasn’t sure why he chose this particular hill to die on, maybe he was feeling bold, or confident; or just bored. Whatever it was, he decided he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“C’mon,”He insisted, he nudged Nagito with his shoulder. “It'll be fun, I promise! “
In the end it had taken a lot of convincing and the tiniest amount of begging for Nagito to finally give in and to agree to a quiet picnic on the beach. Nothing flashy, just a quiet lunch for the two of them.
Hajime had nodded, silently declaring victory.
But the celebration was premature, because when he woke up on that fated day with Nagito in his arms and a meticulously packed wicker basket by the door; it was pouring rain and thunder loud enough to shake the walls.
“Lucky me.” Nagito had commented flatly, peering out the window with a disappointed but albeit unsurprised expression.
Hajime had done his best to salvage their plans. Splaying the picnic blanket out on the wood floor he reassured Nagito that a day in would be much more romantic anyway, but when a particularly bright flash of lightning sent the lights out with a deafening crack Hajime decided once and for all to give it up and accept that the universe simply did not want the two of them to have one elaborate date.
“Sorry…” he apologized mildly later over the candles marked 'for emergency use only'. “You were right, I shouldn't have bothered.”
“Maybe not,” Nagito replied simply. “but I'm glad you did.”
Hajime decided that's all he needed in the end, appreciation for his efforts. It was a small step sure, but a step in the right direction nonetheless. A small mark of progress in a turbulent relationship.
A small spark of hope.
***
Of all the nonsensical things for Hajime to sink his pride and self worth into, never getting sick had to be the most ridiculous.
Getting sick was normal, sure, but Hajime decided staying healthy was even normal-er and he was proud to boast a squeaky clean record of health.
He hadn't thrown up in years when on the night of Nagito's birthday picnic and yet somehow his body decided that a romantic dinner was the perfect time to reignite that memory.
How humiliating.
He attributed it to the food, he hadn't actually cooked it himself, he was a pretty lousy cook anyway. So if the steak that was prepared was undercooked there was none other to blame than Teruteru Hanamura.
And Hajime intended to do just that.
“Oh by the way, I totally got food poisoning from the dish you made. Not a good look.” He said the next morning. He hoped his tone conveyed that he half meant it as a joke, just poking fun at Teruteru’s hatred for negative feedback.
But Teruteru wrinkled his nose.“That’s impossible, I'm the greatest chef in the world, I don't overcook things.” He tugged on his apron. “Maybe it was your boy toy that made you sick because I promise you, it definitely was not my world famous steak.”
Hajime raised his eyebrows.
“Someone got food poisoning? That's rough!” a voice called, loud, sharp, and out of breath.
When Akane entered Hajime's peripheral vision there was a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead.
“Hajime here is once again accusing me of poisoning him with my cooking.” Teruteru complained before Hajime could even interject.
“I didn't say that!” he said quickly. But Teruteru was right, this was the fourth time this week he’d gotten sick from something Teruteru made him. He thought he was being helpful by informing Hanamura about the bad meat but after the third time it happened it was obvious that Teruteru was beginning to feel a bit insulted.
“Maybe you’re just sick. Teruteru’s food is the real deal!” Akane shrugged. Teruteru nodded satisfied with her testimony, he huffed at Hajime returned to his cooking.
“He’s kinda sensitive about that stuff.” Akane added quietly once his back was turned, she shoved an apple in her mouth turning to leave.
“Yeah...” Hajime mumbled, his thoughts already drifting back to his mysterious illness.
Xxx
Sleeping was normal. It was sleeping a lot that wasn't.
The term “a lot” was subjective though wasnt it? That's what Hajime told himself anyway.
So when Nagito murmured a disapproving “you've been sleeping a lot lately” the next morning as he pulled on his jacket followed by pressing the back of his good hand to Hajimes forehead. Hajime tried his hardest to not be annoyed.
“Sue me.” He mumbled instead.
“Are you feeling okay?” Nagito continued obliviously. “While I'm out I can ask Tsumiki to-”
“I'm fine, god!”
Nagito blinked, hurt as well as confusion flashing in his eyes at Hajimes outburst and Hajime sighed, his head sagging.
“No, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” he looked back up “But I am fine, really. You don’t have to stay here with me.”
“Okay," Nagito replied after a moment. “I'll go. But I'll be back later to check on you. Okay?”
“Of course.”
In one smooth motion Nagito stood and turned to leave.
Hajime tried to stay awake, propped up his chin on one closed fist and watched Nagito's pale hair retreat out of the room. However he had barely closed the door behind him before Hajime was asleep again.