Chapter Text
Nagito tries not to breathe too deeply.
If he holds very, very still, and closes his eyes, and ignores everything around him, maybe the loud thoughts will quiet themselves, and he'll be able to fall back asleep once more.
But the early dawn light forces its way through his eyelids. The sound of birds chirping outside the library windows breaks the silence.
And Hajime Hinata stirs against his side.
Maybe Nagito could ignore the dawn, or the birds, if he tried hard enough. But someone as weak as him can't ignore the feeling of Hinata's face nestled against his shoulder.
Hinata is shivering. The air is cold and damp in the library—not a good atmosphere for preserving the books at all. Maybe Monokuma created this atmosphere on purpose, as a way to create despair if something happened to the books. But the joke's on him, if that's what he planned. Nagito and Hinata still found what they were looking for last night. The pamphlet still lies next to him on the floor, and all the information is tucked safely in both he and Hinata's brains—as unreliable as Nagito's might be. It might be small, but a small victory of hope is still hopeful: a precursor of greater things yet to come.
But Hinata is still shivering.
Even in sleep, his arm is wrapped around Nagito's waist like a vice, his grip almost painful in a soothing sort of way. It shouldn't be soothing, though. Nagito should be pulling away, now that he's awake and aware. Someone like Hinata shouldn't be touching him so familiarly. Such beautiful hands shouldn't dirty themselves with filth.
But… they already did. Multiple times.
What happened two nights ago… well, Nagito will forget all of that with time. It wasn't something that either of them chose, so in the end, it means nothing, no matter how much it felt like it meant something in the moment.
Nagito never thought that he'd experience something like that before. Even though it meant nothing… he's grateful for it. Hinata truly must be the Ultimate Actor, because it's hard for Nagito to imagine a tangible difference between what he felt then, and what the real thing might feel like. He treated Nagito far better than he deserved…
But he should put those sorts of thoughts out of his head. There's no point in dwelling on that night anymore.
But for Hinata to dirty himself like that, and then, not to avoid Nagito afterwards, but instead saying that he wanted more, that he wanted to be friends again… and then, for Hinata to hold him, only short hours ago, and try to comfort him, and saying that he wanted to understand him…
That was far too much good luck.
Something truly horrible is waiting around the corner. Hinata's anxiety attack—or whatever that was—was a precursor of something far worse.
That's why Nagito needs to play it safe for now. They've reached a point where even Nagito, who knows very well the way things must always be, can no longer argue with what Hinata says he wants.
If Hinata insists, despite everything, that he wants to be Nagito's friend, that he wants him to stay alive, that he wants to keep him safe… there's no way to properly argue with that without hurting him more, is there?
Given time and careful planning, he'll be able to change his mind. But for now, he needs to be gentle with Hinata, for fear of making things worse.
Hinata had always seemed somewhat fragile, from day one. It's a side of him that Nagito's not sure if anyone else has seen. He has a blunt way of speaking, a harsh and decisive way of asserting his opinions—and yet, he seems to stay quiet more often than not, staying in the corner and observing, waiting until others have decided what to do before making his decisions. He's more shy than he might appear. Not only that, but Nagito has seen what happens when Hinata's anxiety reaches a tipping point twice now.
It… scares him to see something like that. To see his friend (is it really alright to call him that?) helpless and pale and crying. Any confident smiles or firm words from Hinata seem like a distant memory when confronted with that sight. Anything Nagito does will only make it worse, and yet, he can't stop himself from trying to help.
But then again, as fragile as Hinata is… he has an incredible talent for finding any weak points in Nagito's resolve.
Nagito doesn't think he's cried for years. He didn't think he knew how anymore. And yet, Hinata has made him do it twice in two days.
For Hinata to be able to do that… there's something very special about that boy. It's no wonder he was accepted into Hope's Peak Academy. Nagito's own admission was dubious, enough that he briefly doubted the admission committee's abilities. But knowing that they had let Hajime Hinata in is enough to bring back all his faith in the school and all it stands for. They had been able to see that beautiful hope sleeping inside of him: a hope that changes everything it touches.
That's why Nagito has to be very careful. He's worthless for this job, but if Hinata wants to stay by his side, then he needs to protect that fragile hope with all of his feeble strength.
Hinata shudders, his face pressing deeper into Nagito's shoulder. "I'm…" He murmurs the words, slurred with sleep. "I'm… sorry…"
Nagito's breath catches. The sincerity in those few words does something strange to his heart.
"I don't know why Hinata-kun is apologizing." He whispers, not sure if he's telling himself or Hinata this. "Someone like him… couldn't do anything wrong."
There's no response to his own foolish, sincere words. Hinata must have been talking in his sleep. That realization does little to slow Nagito's heart rate, not when Hinata's face is pressed against his collarbone now. His heart is beating irritatingly loud; it's sure to wake Hinata, beating directly in his ear like that. But… Hinata doesn't stir.
But he still trembles, even though the room is no longer cold—Nagito's face is warm, far too warm. How can Hinata still be shivering, when the room is this hot?
His useless brain fumbles for something he can do, finally seizing upon a single foolish idea. Carefully, awkwardly, he slips out of his jacket, afraid of waking Hinata with his movements. One arm is somewhat pinned between himself, Hinata, and the wall; pulling the sleeve off of that arm without jostling Hinata is a test in dexterity far beyond what someone like him should be able to accomplish.
At last, he's managed to get the thing off. Carefully, with his limited range of motion, he drapes his jacket over Hinata.
He holds his breath.
Slowly, Hinata's tremors seem to fade. But… the pain and worry in his sleeping face remain constant.
Nagito lets out his breath in a sharp sigh.
Even after Nagito did everything Hinata wanted, even after he didn't play Monokuma's motive game and stayed up to unearthly hours by Hinata's side… even after all of that, to keep Hinata's hope intact, Hinata still looks like this. His face pale and drawn, as if he's in severe pain, quiet whimpers escaping him in his sleep.
Is this really all because of that night? Even after everything they'd talked about, is Hinata still holding guilt over something so innocuous?
There must be something more to it, but Hinata doesn't tell those sorts of secrets easily. But… it's easy enough to understand that Nagito is the one causing him pain.
He really is useless.
Someone so useless shouldn't be here, holding the person that he's brought such pain to. Subhuman garbage shouldn't be pointlessly dreaming of ways to preserve the most beautiful hope on earth.
Hinata shouldn't be holding so tight to someone like him.
Another pained exhale escapes him. Foolishly, he reaches up, running a hand through Hinata's hair, in some desperate attempt to do something to help him. His hair is damp with sweat, and yet Hinata's skin is cold beneath his palm.
He's not the right one for this.
Hinata should let go of him.
He'll only hurt him more in the end.
And yet… he can't pull away. Not when Hinata is holding him this tightly.
He softly pets Hinata's hair, and hopes that he won't wake up.