Chapter Text
It was three in the morning, and Yukizome Chisa was not asleep.
Or, rather, she had been, until she’d received a phone call from the local fire department, informing her that one of her students was in danger. She’d interrupted the fireman before he could waste time giving her details, asked for an address, tossed on an old robe, and was currently speeding down the highway, keeping an eye out for police.
She knew immediately which student it had to be—the only one who for which she would be called in the first place. The others had parents, or guardians, or siblings, or relations, something, anything, but Komaeda Nagito had no one.
Yukizome had realized this the day of his enrollment. She had been called into Kirigiri Jin’s office and told that there was no emergency contact that Komaeda could provide, so, after some discussion, it was decided that Hope’s Peak should take responsibility if such an incident should happen. Normally this duty would fall to the head teacher, but seeing as the head teacher was passed out on the couch (what exactly did they pay Kizakura for, anyway?), Yukizome would have to provide her number.
She didn’t mind in the slightest. She really did have genuine affection for all of her students, including Komaeda. Her heart ached when she learned he had absolutely no one he could rely on.
She noticed the general emotional distance he kept from everyone else, the long winded speeches about his admiration for everyone in the classroom, the side glances the rest of the students gave him when he went on too long. He was pleasant enough, but upon closer inspection, he seemed happier with the birds in the courtyard than the students themselves. Her wish was that, maybe, by the time he left Hope’s Peak, she could change that for him. She wouldn’t let him leave in the state he was in. That was her duty as his teacher.
Yukizome reached the turn-off she had been looking for, and headed up a dusty gravel path, lined with lamp posts. She assumed this was a drive way, but it was incredibly long and winding, and as she started paying closer attention, she could make out large shapes in the darkness. A tall, glistening fountain, with water-proof lights floating out on the water’s surface caught her eye, as did the detailed, looming statues that were illuminated by the glow. Another lamp post, and Yukizome saw the branches of a beautiful, vibrant cherry blossom tree reaching out from the darkness.
She was about to turn around, deciding that in her haste, she must have made a mistake, when she heard sirens. Slowly, the serenity of the garden gave way to red, flashing lights, bouncing off the trees. A little further, and smoke began to obscure her field of vision. Regardless, she pressed forward, pushing on the gas pedal, twinges of fear beginning to prick at her heart.
Eventually, she saw it: a dance of orange, red, and white, devouring what was left of Komaeda Nagito’s house. The building was enormous, that much was obvious even as it collapsed. His residence had been transformed into a ball of fire, one so big it could’ve been a sun. Yukizome tried not to think about the fact that he must have lived here completely alone, tried to ignore the image of Komaeda walking through spacious halls, footsteps echoing hollowly in the silence, all with that tranquil, unwavering smile on his face.
She got as close as she could, stopped the car, and ran out into the night. She spotted someone—a fireman, if the light reflective jacket he was wearing was any indication.
Yukizome waved wildly. “Hey! I’m here! I’m his teacher!”
The man turned around, startled. “You’re Yukizome Chisa?”
“Yes!” she said frantically. “Where is he?”
“You mean the kid?”
“Yes!”
The man folded his arms across his chest, eyes darting downwards. “Uh…he’s over there. Inside the ambulance.” He pointed to the left.
Yukizome blinked, squinted, and finally she could make out the outline of white, tousled hair, dusted grey with ash, poking out of a cocoon wrapped in a large blanket. He was alone.
“You left him alone? Is he okay? You people are supposed to be professionals!” she exclaimed, stomping her foot. “He has to be traumatized! Has he been checked for injuries?”
The man played with the cuff of his left glove, wrapping his right fingers around it. “Uh…he’s been…examined, yeah. Trauma is a very real possibility, but…” he trailed off, seeming unsure how to continue. “We gave him a blanket.”
Yukizome didn’t have time for this sort of stuttering and hesitation. If they wouldn’t give her answers, she’d go get them herself. She clicked her tongue and marched over to the huddled figure sitting alone on the metal floor of the ambulance, feet dangling off the edge of the truck. As she got closer, she could see the blanket shaking.
“Komaeda-kun!” she called. He didn’t respond. She ran faster. Leaving a child alone, crying, after his house had burned down…why was he always alone? Why did people always treat him this way? He deserved love, and compassion, and some human kindness, just like anyone else…
These thoughts were cut off as she reached Komaeda, a few steps away from touching him, when she heard it: a raspy, low sound, wheezing and hitching and breaking, rolling out from underneath the blanket.
He was laughing.
No, Yukizome thought, cackling, really, his laugh not unlike reverberating thunder. He was struggling to breathe, his entire form was shaking, struggling to stay upright.
He must be delirious, she thought. How dare they leave Komaeda alone like this? She realized this house might be the last aspect he'd retained of his life before his parents died, and fury bounced through her veins.
“Komaeda-kun,” Yukizome said firmly, grabbing his shoulder. The form under the blanket flinched, white curls twitching above it. He coughed a few times as the laughter slowed, stalled. He must have breathed in too much smoke.
“Sensei! You are Yukizome-sensei, right?” Komaeda said, his voice cracking a bit. He didn’t emerge from the confines of the blanket, but his tone sounded warm, like he was greeting an old friend at a dinner party. “Ah...I’m sorry to bother you with all this.”
Yukizome took a deep breath, squeezing his shoulder. “Komaeda-kun…I’m…so sorry. Are you alright? How did this happen? Can you tell me?”
A few moments of silence, and then he spoke.
“Hey, did you know? I was just trying to make toast.”
“I’m sorry?”
“It was TOAST!” he exclaimed, tossing off the blanket. Komaeda was grinning, bright-eyed, excited, like a child on Christmas morning, a thin layer of dust covering his face. Shadows danced in the depths of his pupils, dilating and undilating, nearly giving them the appearance of swirls. He was breathing heavily. It was the most unsettling expression Yukizome had ever seen.
“I was making TOAST! I put it in the toaster and it caught on fire…I tried to put it out, but then the toaster itself exploded, and, well, that was that, wasn’t it?!”
The laughter started again, billowing out of his mouth like a toxic fog.
“It was amazing . Even I, Komaeda Nagito…someone like me…even someone like ME can make toast, you knowi—that’s never happened before! Ever! Do you know what this must mean?” He tried to contain his laughter by pressing a hand over his mouth, looking up at her for an answer, eyes wide and gleaming.
“Uh…it means you got unlucky, Komaeda-kun, it’s not your fault, it could’ve been an old toaster, or—”
“ Exactly. That’s exactly it! It means I was extremely unlucky. Unfathomably unlucky. The question is, why now? Why, after the years I’ve spent successfully putting toast in the toaster, did it explode tonight?”
Komaeda stared at her, expecting a response, but her confusion must have shown on her face, because he frowned. She gave him an uneasy half-smile. He sighed.
“It happened in preparation for something wonderful…something filled with hope! Something as as horrible and as despair-inducing as losing all of my worldly possessions and the only place in the world I can call home HAS to give way to something equally beautiful and awe-inspiring!”
Yukizome felt her stomach turn. “You saved…nothing? From the fire? You have…nothing?”
Komaeda tilted his head. “What? No, that’s not true…if anything, I gained something!” He sighed again, a deep heavy sound. “Sensei, are you listening? Are you paying attention?”
Yukizome bristled, but said nothing—she would attribute his rude tone to the shock of his current situation. This wasn’t the time to rebuke him. She was, however, glad that Komaeda had gained something, anything, to give him comfort in the days to come.
“What did you gain, Komaeda-kun?” She tried to keep her voice from cracking, gave him a smile that hopefully looked genuine.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? Didn’t I already say it? I gained…an even greater hope! One that will only flourish and grow and feed on this current despair I’m feeling…hmm…I wonder what form it will take this time? Money, again, perhaps? That seems to be a favorite…but last time I took a blow this hard, I got accepted to Hope’s Peak!”
Komaeda paused, drummed his fingers on the metal floor.
“I can’t think of anything greater than that, though…but…seeing as this is the final chapter of my life, things have really pushed into overdrive! Could this mean…I’m going to receive a hope bigger than I can even imagine?” Yukizome stared at him. Komaeda was sweating now, his breath coming in short, quick bursts.
“Komaeda-kun…please try to calm down…I think you inhaled too much smoke, okay? I’ll go get someone to help you.” She’d drag someone over here if she had to. Despite his current behavior being off-putting, he was just a boy, and obviously needed medical attention.
As she turned around, Komaeda grabbed her wrist. “Huh? I didn’t inhale any smoke at all. As my luck would have it, I own a collection of gas masks that I left riiiight by my fridge! I put one on and got out of there before things got really bad, so don’t worry so much.”
Who collects gas masks? Yukizome thought, but pushed that judgement out of her head to make room for bigger concerns. Does he really believe everything he’s saying, then? Is this just…a side of Komaeda I haven’t seen before? She tugged her wrist away from him.
“Komaeda-kun, you’re the one who’s not listening. Regardless of whatever…excitement you’re feeling, I think you should go lay down. There’s a lot that’s happened tonight, okay? You…really need to take a breather. You should probably go to the hospital for now. I’ll drive you.”
Komaeda shook his head. “I don’t really think that’s needed. I don’t mind sleeping on the ground, you know! You’ve already done more than I deserve, just by making sure I’m still alive!” He chuckled. “Besides, I spend a lot of time at the hospital, anyways…”
Does he seriously mean he’s going to sleep on the charred ruins of his house? Yukizome was starting to get impatient. It was late, the sun would rise soon enough, and she had a class to teach tomorrow. “That wasn’t an offer, Komaeda-kun! You’re coming with me and that’s that!”
Komaeda lowered his voice to a whisper. “If you hadn’t noticed, people keep glancing over here. They look scared, because you’re being too noisy, and you’re making a scene. But don’t worry, Yukizome-sensei, I’m not judging you!” He laughed. “I understand that a situation like this can be exciting!”
Yukizome had had enough. She bent down, wrapped her arms around Komaeda’s frail torso, and tossed him over her shoulder. “We’re going to the hospital.”
As she made her way back towards her car, she could hear Komaeda saying all sorts of things, ranging from “Wooooow, you must really work out a lot! Haha, I should’ve known they wouldn’t allow just anyone to become a teacher at Hope’s Peak…” to “You know, if you put me in your car, even with the bad luck that just happened to me, you’re probably gonna die! I’d say your chances of having an accident go up by at least fifty percent! You must really not care about your own life at all…” but she ignored him, opened the side door, pushed him in the car, told him to put on his seat belt, and that was that.