Archive of Our Own

1.

A traditional dictionary will tell you that luck is a force that causes things, especially good things, to happen to you by chance and not as a result of efforts or abilities. Nagito, for example, could imagine many see luck as the most absolute good. A thing that you desire, happening with little no effort, must sound like a paradise. He grew being envied for his own luck. He grew with people being around him as a kid merely because of the fun things that would happen if they stood next to each other.

The thing was that those kids would then be attacked by bugs, or trip and fall and scrape their knees. Nagito would watch one of his classmates cry and call for a teacher, and from his blood there would be required someone to clean, and while they cleaned up they’d find a property Nagito had lost. Wonderful luck, at the expense of someone else’s misfortune, that was his to go.

A dictionary would tell you that bad luck is defined by a force that causes bad things to happen to you, by chance, without the result of efforts or abilities. Nagito did not crave for his dog to get hit by a car, he did not ask for his parents to die, and he did not ask to be the subject of attempted kidnapping every other day.

Because Nagito’s luck never followed textbooks definition. Nagito was the type to tremble if things were going too smoothly, and smile if he was on the verge of death. Good things meant he’d suffer soon. Bad things meant he was going to smile in the next hour. It came to a point where he looked forward for bad things to happen, as he knew that the hope that would spring out of that unfortunate event would be completely unmatched.

His classmates didn’t like it when he said that. Completely understandable, surely, as Nagito himself sometimes got tired of his own voice. He thought it was too raspy, too deep. He didn’t like hearing himself speak, and yet he had a lot to say, and unfortunately he wasn’t good enough to know to know when it was the right time to shut his mouth and stay quiet. He was really lucky his classmates were there to tell him to shut up! He was lucky to call them their classmates, as tall. He was so lucky, it was no wonder he got diagnosed. He almost couldn’t wait for the signed day to arrive, albeit it kept being postponed. Apparently he was getting better, even if his brain was slowly deteriorating inside his skull. Truly unlucky, if you asked him.

That class, for how much effort Nagito had initially put to avoid it, given there was no way someone like him could ever dream about belonging in the same space as such greatness, was objectively one of the best things that had ever happened to him. Nagito loved and worshiped every single one of his classmates, always making it his own personal goal to praise their shining talents show his undying appreciation over being included in their much more important activities. He was aware very few of them could actually stand him, and he couldn’t blame them, really. Nagito didn’t like himself either.

Nagito Komaeda didn’t have a lot of friends. Which, actually, was a lot on itself! Him, having a few people that he got along with? A dream. He couldn’t believe it was reality.

The majority of them avoided him in the streets. They walked the opposite direction if they saw him come near. They turned their backs if he ever approached. And he’d always lower his head and smile, because such useless, lowly scum like him did not deserve to feel offended at objectively correct judgment towards him. Albeit, for some reason that were completely unknown to his much too small brain, Nagito got approached by Mioda about after their second year at Hope’s Peak, with her hands on her hips and a huge smile on her face. The Ultimate musician, the person who played any sort of instrument with no problem at all, had grabbed Nagito’s shoulders and claimed he had a wonderful voice potential, and just had to sing for her background vocals.

Nagito remembered denying it. He didn’t dare decline, because there was no way someone like him could ever try and upset someone so wonderful, but he still tried to downplay it, save her from the embarrassment and irritation of having to ruin one of her masterpieces with his dreadful voice. And yet Mioda had insisted, and Nagito, who didn’t deserve such an honor, acted like the selfish piece of trash he was and accepted.

If one excluded his own recording, the song sounded as good as all of Mioda’s pieces. And from that day on, she’d seemed to accept him as a friend, and Nagito had been so taken off guard he could have started flying from joy.

He then tripped and fractured his ankle the day after. Ah. He had to expect it, truly.

Besides that! Mioda then insisted he went out a little more, and he could say he got a little closer to Kuzuryu — he didn’t curse at him that much anymore! Such an honor — and Nanami, especially, once he’d offered to help her when it came to luck-based games. His class representative was an incredulously kind, altruistic, selfless girl, and the moment he opened up a little more about not having a space where he truly belonged (merely the truth, believe him) she started insisting he came to most of her own hang outs.

Nagito often tried to decline, obviously. He might be a selfish scum but even he knew that his presence there would only bring problems other than anything else, and yet Nanami always insisted. There were times where she’d follow him around until he gave up and accepted her request. And she’d always smile brightly afterwards, and so made it impossible to get upset at her for that kind of behavior.

And so Nagito found himself spending a lot of his time with her. And he dared have a good time, too, as he was nothing but a rotten parasite, unable to at the very least try and make himself miserable. But no, Nagito dared enjoy his time out. He really was the worst.

And yet he was aware there had to be bad luck coming around, too. Nothing was ever that perfect without consequences, not in Nagito’s life. And so there were a few things that irritated the living hell out of him, but he didn’t dare do anything about. Sometimes the food he’d order would be wrong, or there’d be strings of hair or as he one time found shreds of glass stuck in the middle of different bites, or there would be music shooting around way too loudly, or they’d encounter hopeless fanboys ready to run to people like his classmates and ask for autographs they did not deserve, not when they’d already been declined so politely. Nagito blamed himself, and his rotten luck, for their incoming insistence, every single time.

Sometimes, however, the bad luck that came from the invite would only fall onto him, which he was partly glad about. Better not bother his classmates with these insignificant matters.

And yet he was just a tad pissed. Not that he’d show it, because he had no right to complain when that bad luck was brought by Nanami herself. Because he was her friend, and he couldn’t mind his own business, nor accept his place as a lowly, insignificant, absolutely arrogant bug who had no place in this world if not to be a stepping stone for everyone’s much brighter hope to shine, much like Nagito himself. But no, he couldn’t accept it, couldn’t stay away.

Him. The reserve course student. Hajime Hinata, that was his name, not that Nagito used it much, nor thought about it. He’d refused to acknowledge him at all until he saw that was upsetting Nanami, and then he’d forced himself to make an effort.

But, really, did he have to be included in every single hang out?

Nagito’s pleased face he’d put on despite the loud clinking of plates and chatter in the café he was sat in faltered the second he saw him come in. Sweaty, out of breath, holding his slipping bag on his shoulder with one hand while the other held the doorframe so his legs would not give out. He’d been running there, obviously, given how he was struggling to stand back up. Late, as usual. No respect whatsoever.

Nanami noticed him immediately. Why they got along so well, Nagito couldn’t tell. Nanami insisted he was a very kind person, and he played games with her, and he was really nice, and whatever, it’s not like he cared that much. Nagito merely watched her stand up and come closer to him, giving him a sweet smile that Hinata did not deserve, and never would.

“Hinata!” She waved, “You’re here.”

“Sorry,” Hinata gasped out, running an hand through his hair. “I lost track of time and fell asleep while studying and uhm — yeah.”

No sense of time whatsoever, Nagito thought as he placed his hands on his lap, eyes closed. Just as expected of a reserve course student. A level of arrogance out of this world.

“It’s okay,” Nanami chuckled. “You can sit here, come on.”

Nanami, who was already sat next to Sonia, pointed at the only free seat. Next to Nagito. Obviously. Because why not.

Hinata hesitated the moment he noticed it too, his gaze a little tenser. Nagito gave him one look.

Come on. Argue with me. I dare you.

Hinata grimaced. He merely sat next to him, kept himself as further away as possible.

It’s not like they had that many fights. And Hinata’s brain was severely underdeveloped, believe him, the size of a peanut, but there was no need for an high level of intelligence to notice the obvious dislike Nagito had for him. The latter was the kind of person who did not like to keep his opinions to himself. A few comments here and there, nothing too hard, truly. That tended to annoy those around him like any other time he made the mistake of speaking up, but they made Hinata throw a fit, which was strangely fun to see.

And so Hinata seemed to grow a dislike for him, too, and the two tended to ignore contact and only interact when it was strictly necessary.

As for now, Hinata crossed his arms on top of the table and busied himself in a conversation with the girls, from which Nagito dissociated from completely, sipping on the drink he’d ordered earlier, gazing out of the window.

Winter was by far his favorite season. He liked it better when it got cold, when he was able to cover himself as much as possible — better to avoid incidents when he was covered up rather when his skin was exposed. It wasn’t like Nagito suffered the heat all that much, always tending to wear at the very least a jacket to get something around his arms. It made him feel a little cozier, that was all. Not that he deserved to be comfortable. Nagito was just selfish, as he’d said.

He suddenly wished he could go back to his dorm. The contentedness that being with his classmates brought him was slowly dissipating the more his ears were filled with the annoying sound of an undeserving voice, and the pounding headache that was already beating against his temples was starting to become unbearable.

Ah. He was so ungrateful.

He smiled bitterly, thinking that maybe next time he should just decline. It didn’t matter if it would upset Nanami, maybe, and if he told her he was merely sick, he doubted her gentle heart would doubt him. Or maybe she’d see right through his lies, if he was unlucky enough. The thrill of unpredictability sent a shiver up his spine.

He glanced at Hinata exactly once. Nagito had no desire to look at him, at his permanently awkward or angry face, always with a scowl or an unnerving frown present, nor at that disdainful uniform he couldn't spare a glance to before feeling the urge to roll his eyes.

Hinata was smiling. Awkward, as Nagito said, like he wasn't in the presence of two of the most prestigious Ultimates Nagito had ever had the pleasure of knowing. Hinata treated them as if they were equals, and that was simply unacceptable. Arrogant, as he'd said many times. The level of disrespect was completely unmatched. He had the most absolute nerve to feel uncomfortable around two people that shouldn't look at him more than once if they were sane.

Nagito rolled his eyes, grimacing when he leaned his chin on his palm and looked outside. The sky was heavy with darker clouds. It would probably rain soon. He was lucky he'd decided to bring an umbrella with him, really.

“This cake is simply delicious!” Sonia said, her hands clasped together. “What was the word? Absolutely scrumptious!”

“You can say it was yummy,” Nanami suggested. “And we can get another slice if you'd like.”

“Surely?”

“Yeah,” Nanami stood up. “We can share. We'll be back guys.”

Ah. Of course. The luck that allowed him to be sheltered by incoming rain was cursing him with the most horrible event of all. Being alone with someone like Hinata.

That checks out.

Hinata watched them go with his lips pressed together quite tightly.

Nagito watched them go. The two of them were obviously close. Seeing such a wonderful union made him smile each time, as there was no doubt there couldn't be a more hopeful situation.

He took another sip, his eye twitching at the sound of rapid tapping that started to come from his right. Nagito let out a sigh.

Hinata was drumming his fingers against the wood, his free hand playing distractingly with the collar of his jacket. The jacket of that terrible uniform. Unicolour, hard on the eyes. It had a funky texture. Nagito deterred it.

“Must you really?” He sighed out, loudly, just so Hinata could jump at the sudden noise. He cast him a look for that matter.

“Must I — what, exactly —?”

“Be this loud.” He shook his head. “It's unnerving.”

“…Sorry.” He said, but it sounded more like a grumble. The audacity.

And Nagito had absolutely zero interest speaking with someone like Hinata. He didn't care about him. He didn't care what he thought about things that happened around him. Nagito didn't care, one bit.

And yet. Yet the silence was driving him crazier than he already felt. It was all Hinata's fault, believe him.

“Your uniform looks uncomfortable.” He added, keeping his gaze on the window. He could still see through the faint reflection, however, and Hinata's gaze was both hard and easy to read at the same time. Something in the middle. Nagito couldn't really put a finger on it.

“Excuse me—?” He grimaced. “It's a uniform.”

“You must be quite attached to it,” He pointed out, “If you tend to wear that wherever you go.”

“I-I—” Hinata paused. Frowned further, if that was possible. One day his face was going to freeze like that, Nagito thought. It’d be funny if it weren’t such a terrible sight. “We're at school, of course I'm wearing my uniform.”

“We're at a bar, Hinata-kun.” Nagito shook his head. “And yet reserve course students are so proud of their identity, they wear that piece of clothing everywhere, even at a hangout with friends.”

He did not mean to spit out the last word like that. He wasn't sure what he meant himself. He didn't want to think about it.

“I-I’ve already said I rushed here—!” Why he felt the need to defend himself this fiercely, Nagito couldn’t tell. It was just as annoying as it was funny, truly. His cheeks had gone a violent pink. He looked funny when he blushed like that. In a negative way. Obviously. “I feel asleep while studying and—”

“Late and irresponsible.” Nagito shook his head. “Just as expected of a reserve course student.”

“Y-You—” Hinata groaned, took his head in his hands. “Ugh.”

“My exact sentiment.”

“Whatever. Stop talking to me.”

“You’re the one continuing this conversation, Hinata-kun.”

“You’re the one that started it—!”

“Yet who’s the one taking this personally?”

“Whatever!” Hinata exclaimed, once more, because he was unoriginal like that. He lacked of all basic qualities that would make you somewhat interesting, truly. It was sad.

Hinata’s whole existence was sad. He and Nagito were similar on that aspect. But at the very least, Nagito knew his place. He knew he was a worthless nobody. Hinata thought he belonged. Hinata was a small dog pretending he could ever be big enough to fit in. He was the most pathetic person Nagito had ever encountered.

He glanced back at him. He was very much ready to smirk at his ever lasting scowl, at the glare that Hinata would surely send in his direction. Instead he was met with the sight of a tanned hand tugging at the black tie he wore forcefully, getting it off of him.

Nagito blinked. “Uhm. What, exactly, would you be doing?”

“I’m taking this off.” Hinata mumbled, “It’s smoking hot in here anyway.”

Nagito frowned. “We’re in the middle of November, Hinata-kun.”

“And the heating here is too high.” He pulled the tie off, placed it on his lap. “I need to get some air.”

Nagito wasn’t exactly sure of why he was watching. He should roll his eyes and glance sideways. He should mock him and snicker under his breath, if he had any sanity left.

And yet his eyes followed the movement of Hinata’s fingers. He watched as he unfastened button after button of that hideous jacket, shaking it off of his shoulders, slid it out of his arms. Hinata then passed to the button up, not completely, obviously, as perhaps he wasn’t that shameless, but he did unfasten two of the first buttons and well. Uhm.

Nagito had eyes. That was very much certain. They worked, he knew how to use them. He could observe and give objective opinions over things he noticed. And, well, anyone with functioning brain cells would notice that Hinata had very nice hands. Like, really nice. tanned, quite large. Muscular, if he could say so, his fingers were quite thick, he could see one or two veins here and there if he focused enough. Which he wasn’t going to. Because why would he do that.

Thing was, that the more he followed the movement, the more he could see Hinata’s chest. Which, well, was a nice chest, too. Pronounced, surely, evident if looked sideways. It pushed his shirt a tad, just a bit. It fit with his sort of muscular build. Not that he really watched Hinata’s body that much. But, well, the size of his shoulders kind of gaze it away.

Anyway. Hinata fixed his collar, tried to pull it so he could fan himself some air. He really looked out of breath, huh.

Nagito briefly wondered what would happen if Hinata opened it a little more. Just enough for his skin to be more visible than it already was, truly, for curiosity. His skin just looked a little nice. A bit. And if Nagito felt hypnotized or the sudden urge to reach over and lick a stripe up his neck it was his business and a complete intrusive thoughts he surely was never going to act on.

Hinata noticed he was staring. No, not staring, not ogling, thank you very much, he was observing. Nagito was a good observer.

“What.” Hinata mumbled, his face heating up just a tad. Nagito wanted to reach over. Poke his cheeks. Rip the skin off. Whichever worked.

“Nothing.” He said, and then clutched his chest. Hard. Because for some reason, his heart was speeding up.

Which was not a novelty, if he had to truly think about it. Nagito had so many health issues, he could write an essay about it and run out of paper. Sometimes he felt in pain without a reason. He got sweaty, cold, and shivers all at the same time without a real explanation for it.

But his heart had never sped up like that, not really, nor had he ever felt this warm around his whole body. Never had he felt this tingly, fuzzy, if he were bold, with the terrible urge to move his whole body till the feeling exhausted. He wondered if he was about to pass out.

“K-Komaeda—?” Hinata blinked. Turned towards him, his frown more concerned than the usual irritation he had plastered on, his hand reaching out. “Are you okay—?”

No. He was not okay. Nagito was probably going to die.

He shook his head, tried to laugh while gently yet firmly swatting away Hinata’s hand. He tilted his head, “I’m more than okay! But I unfortunately need to go home.”

“U-Uh—?”

“Hinata-kun, would you be so kind and let me out of the booth?”

Hinata looked like he wanted to protest, but he was also so confused, he could only scoot out of his seat and let Nagito skim out.

Nagito reached into his wallet, didn’t even look at how many bills he was taking out and placing on the table in front of him, his hands shaking a bit.

“Tell Nanami-san and Nevermind-san that I had an emergency, alright?”

“W-What—” Hinata blinked, “A-Are you feeling okay—?”

“Marvelously!” He waved his hand, “I’m just going to pass out any second.”

“U-Uh—?!”

“Nothing to worry about! It’s best if I go lay down!” Nagito smiled wide, rushed towards the door. “Goodbye to you all!”

“Komaeda—!”

Nagito closed the door. Rushed towards the dorms.

It did start raining, just as he’d predicted. He didn’t remember he had an umbrella.

He came back to his dorm with his clothes completely soaked. He looked at them with a grimace, the sensation of wet tissue feeling uncomfortable against his skin.

Nagito took them off, got into the shower. The water was warm, not too hot, not too cold, luckily, without too much struggle.

The weird sensation in his chest lingered, but it was surely weaker than before.

Nagito spent the rest of the night waiting for an heart attack that didn’t come. He didn’t know if Hinata had the power or capability of making his own illness worse, but if he did, he wished he could make up his mind and hurry up already.

2.

Miss Yukizome was the kindest teacher Nagito had ever had the pleasure to have as his homeroom professors.

His previous school wasn't that high level. His teachers looked like they hated their job and wanted to drop dead in front of the class of miserable beings they were being forced to work with the very instant they walked into the room, and Nagito never truly blamed them. He'd mostly always thought it was his presence more than anything else. He did tend to bring the mood down quite a lot.

Coming to Hope's Peak Academy, however, had very much confirmed him that was not the case. Miss Yukizome’s spirits were unmatched, and it was rare that she actually got frustrated, even when it came do dealing with someone like him.

Nagito, at that moment, stood in front of her, clutching his bag and forcing a smile while she skimmed through papers, and he was good at pretending he didn't mind waiting, when all he craved as for that moment was to retire to his dorm and succumb in a deep sleep.

Truly, he was honored she asked him to stay of all people. Miss Yukizome’s time was surely better spent doing anything else than caring and being concerned about him of all people. He was so lucky! He was probably going to break an arm later. That’d be what he deserves for allowing himself to relish in the attention of a much more sophisticated and important woman that had nothing to do with him at all.

If Nagito were more selfless, perhaps he’d be able to tell everyone to stay away from him. He was a danger for their safeties, after all, it would be mere common sense to tell them to get in a safe space and distance themselves from someone who was too selfish and stupid and lowly and ugly and insignificant — the list goes on! — to breathe their same air.

Perhaps if he weren’t such a disgusting leech he’d beg Yukizome to let him go. Maybe he could have warned her about how his luck could have caused much more important documents to fall from her grip and spread all over the floor. But he was a disgusting leech. A selfish one. And he was ever so ungrateful too, getting annoyed like that. Nagito thought that if public executions were a thing, he’d sign himself for it without a thought. Such beautiful hope that would spring from his imminent death!

Thinking about it, nobody would really feel any sort of despair for the death of someone like him. Perhaps it’d be annoyance, as he’d ruin Hope’s Peak Academy prestigious reputation with such a reckless action. They surely didn’t need any blood spilled. That would be unfortunate. His classmates would surely be irritated. Nagito couldn’t possibly do that to them. Not in a near future, perhaps.

“Komaeda,” Yukizome was saying, and he wasn’t listening, because he was disgusting. “I won’t hide I’m a little concerned.”

“Ah, it’s understandable,” He raised his hands, smiling apologetically. “Being in the same room as someone like me is surely worrying!”

Perhaps she’d listen to him, this time. Maybe Yukizome would get a feeling of impending doom and run out of the classroom. He would just smile, and hide the dullness in his eyes. He’d become so good at that! There weren’t a lot of things he was good at, truly, so he found it quite admirable, himself.

Miss Yukizome merely frowned. She placed the paper on her desk, turned it so Nagito could see it.

Ah.

He tilted his head. Miss Yukizome didn’t give them assignments often, as lectures at the Academy were quite different than what they would be considered from a normal student’s perspective. Miss Yukizome was more than capable of teaching what she wanted, and she’d do it marvelously, too. Lessons just tended to focus on the beauty that comes with talent and the ways to make it shine even brighter. Nagito admired it with his whole heart.

But this assignment, this one had frustrated him a little. He was no Ultimate Writing Progeny, nor was his handwriting nice to look at. He’d felt so bad for her, having to read something so disdainful done by such a lowly piece of trash, and he’d tried to hand it in blank. She’d smiled, and sent him back to his desk with no permission to stand up again until he’d actually written down something consistent.

Such a beautiful, inspiring hope consisting in wishing for her students to be the very best. She really was amazing.

Regardless, if she was going to lecture him about it, he could only guess his predictions were correct, and he’d done an incredibly poor job at trying to do something correctly for the first time in his life.

He smiled a bit, “Ah, I see. I apologize, miss, but I did warn you about my work quality being completely unsatisfactory.”

“That’s not what this is about…” She shook her head, grabbed the paper once more. “It’s about what you wrote.”

He blinked, “Yes, well, words are surely wonderful but I’m much too useless to actually place them together correctly, so you see I often tend to —”

“Komaeda,” She interrupted, albeit gently, “You said, and I quote, I might not have dreams nor hopes for my own future, if not to help anyone else become the best version of themself. I am in fact willing to do anything, from the merest action to the most extreme, to guarantee happiness to who deserves it. I am willing to take my own life if that is necessary. And that is all.”

The theme had been a way to help them choose what they would want to do after graduating. All of his classmates had clear paths ahead of them. Nagito did not. Nothing in his life was certain, if he ever managed to live that long, that was. Which he probably wouldn’t. That was okay too. He never had the biggest expectations.

“Such disdainful words…” He sighed out, “I’m perfectly aware, miss. I’m ever so sorry I subjected you through the torture of reading something so un-stimulating and grammatically incorrect.”

“What you’ve written,” She ignored him, “Is entirely suicidal.”

He didn’t really understand why her lip was quivering like that. Yukizome was a sensitive woman. He guessed she was just being incredibly altruistic. What a good thing, coming from her. He was so ungrateful. Her clenched jaw told him she’d probably figured that out too. Good for her.

“Komaeda, I’m seriously worried.”

“There is no need, I insist,” He laughed, waving his hand. “You don’t need to care about the objective truth, miss! At the end of the day, my luck is going to make sure I have only one ending.”

Her stare was careful. She’d often scolded him when it came to these kind of speeches. She said he shouldn’t dare to talk like about himself. He always apologized. He always did it again. Old habits die hard, he guessed. Or perhaps he was just incapable. It was probably that.

“Komaeda,” She said, gently. She reached over, her hand on his. “Have you ever considered following a psychological journey with a certified therapist ?”

Nagito stared at her. He smiled, jokes were kind of funny, but they often needed a punchline. Maybe he was the punchline. He should laugh. Not laughing at a joke was extremely rude. He would never dare.

And so laugh he did, moving his hand away from her trembling fingers. “Ah, I can’t say I have! You’re not the first one to tell me that!”

Truly, he’d tried. Back in middle school, if he recalled correctly. Time was a blur lately. He couldn’t really remember if he was already back from his kidnapping, or if that had been his last straw. He truly couldn’t recall that well. His memory was just as rotted as his personality. His therapist of the time had needed therapy themselves after a few sessions. After that, Nagito merely accepted the truth. He was untreatable.

He wasn’t worth the try.

That was okay. Some people are just more deserving than others. He didn’t exactly crave to bother someone else with his insignificant issues. He was sure he wouldn’t speak at all anyway. He wasn’t sure if there were an Ultimate Therapist at the Academy, but he was sure even they would find their first untreatable case. He would be willing to be their guinea pig, if they ever asked him.

He merely shook his head, “I don’t see why I would, miss.”

“I beg you to consider it,” She insisted, her finger raised up, “Komaeda, whatever you’re thinking, it’s really not true. You’re my student. Reading something like that was—”

“Dreadfully boring. I’m aware.”

“—Painful. I meant to say painful.”

“I’m sure!”

She shook her head. She placed the paper back on the desk, her arms crossed.

“From this day on, I want regular check ups. Even in days where there’s no lecture, I want to see you, and make sure you’re doing okay.”

His lips twitched. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to resist the disgusting urge to burst out laughing, sweat gathering on the back of his neck.

Miss Yukizome, wanting to check up on someone like him? Someone so wonderful, hopeful, with him? Someone like him didn’t deserve care. It was a mere outrageous thought.

He wanted to run out of the classroom. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t he didn’t he didn’t he did not he was disgusting he was just a selfish leech he wa s no t

“I surely will, miss Yukizome!” He cut off, giving her a thumbs up that was genuinely just embarrassing. Figures he’d make a fool out of himself more than he already had before. “Now, if I’m excused, I should really get in my dorm! I wouldn’t want it to get dark before I do!”

She was obviously not convinced. Not that it was surprising, Nagito wasn’t a good liar. He wasn’t a good actor either, he was quite terrible at any creative skill, truly.

“Be careful, please.” She pleaded. Undeserved. He didn’t deserve it. “I’m always here if you need to talk.”

“Understood.”

“I’m inquiring you to do it, Komaeda.” She pursed her lips. “Please.”

He smiled. There was nothing to smile about.

“Goodbye, miss. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He sprinted out of the classroom before she could say anything else, nor before she could answer back. Not only was he ungrateful, Nagito also lacked of basic manners! He would be amazed at his own level of incapacity if it were anything to be remotely proud of in the first place!

He went down one flight of stairs, leaned against the nearest wall he could find. Nagito took a deep breath, his face still hopefully impassible. He wouldn’t want to bother the other Ultimates with his nonsense, after all.

He reached into his bag. Before Yukizome called him, he’d wanted to pass by the nearest pharmacy anyway. It didn’t matter if his classmates had gone to have fun without him already, he could just go now and come back to his dorm for some well (not) deserved rest. He would have just annoyed them anyway. It was all he was able to do.

Of course, he’d expected that he good luck brought by her undeserved care would have to be balanced by a storm. It started the second he stepped out of the canopy, too. What was with him and getting soaked, lately? He couldn’t tell.

Nagito merely gazed up at the sky. His lazy, good for nothing body felt heavy with exhaustion already, and he hadn’t done anything relatively deserving of stating he needed rest. He wasn’t a runner, he wasn’t a weight lifter. He wasn’t all that smart. A few lessons should not tire you this way. How useless could he be? Nagito was surprised each day.

He wasn’t sure of why he was staying still like that. The rain was uncomfortable against his clothes. He didn’t like getting wet like that, not really. he didn’t like feeling himself get dirty. Maybe he just figured he didn’t deserve to be comfortable that day.

Either way, he glanced up at the sky, bringing one hand up to be able to see clearly. Heavy and gray, that’s how those clouds greeted him. He smiled despite himself. How ironic, truly. The weather had wanted to match.

Nagito closed his eyes. Maybe a lighting would strike him down today. Maybe he wouldn’t have any need for pills for a long time.

That would have been preferable, if he had to state his own. He wondered how many other people needed those pills. How many were deprived of them because he needed them. What did he really need, anyway? Nothing. Selfish desires for a selfish person.

“Could it be any worse..?” He wondered out loud, letting out a small sigh. Of course it could. The school could collapse. He could survive the event. Or—

“Komaeda—?”

That. That could happen.

He didn’t have to open his eyes to know Hinata was there. Such an irritating and unnerving tone of voice could only truly belong to one person after all. Ah. How unlucky.

“Hinata-kun.” He mumbled, “Splendid afternoon.”

“Why are you here—?”

“I should ask the same question,” He opened one eye. Hinata was holding up an umbrella. His other hand was handling a bag. His expression was curled into his signature frown, like if he did anything else his face would melt right of his head. That would be quite interesting to see. A shame it was quite illogical. “I believe your building is more… far away.”

“I meant — You’re standing in the rain.”

“Sharp as always, Hinata-kun.” He clicked his tongue. “Truly, thank you, I hadn’t noticed.”

Hinata clenched his jaw. He stepped forward — dared to raise the umbrella so Komaeda could stand beneath.

Leave me alone, he wanted to say, let me drown in my own misery. Go away.

He merely grimaced. “What are you doing.”

“Covering you—?” He answered, albeit he sounded pretty unsure himself. “I-I mean — you’re gonna catch a cold.”

“You shouldn’t be caring.”

“I don’t.” The tips of his ears became slightly red. Odd. “I-I’m just behaving like a normal person.”

“A normal person would stay in their own building they seem to adore so deeply.” Nagito closed his eyes again, crossed his arms. “Leave.”

Hinata let out an irritated sigh. As if he had any right or valid reason to feel irritated. The most absolute audacity of this guy.

“I was here to give something back to Nanami.” He muttered, raising the bag he was holding. “Do you know where she is at least?”

Nagito didn’t really know what his deal with Nanami was, but the fact that the two spent so much time together was starting to irritate him significantly. He wasn’t sure as of why. His heart ached for Nanami’s well being, for sure. He couldn’t stand the thought of her wasting her precious time with such a leech of a man. That wa all.

Nagito offered a tight smile. “Nanami-san and the others have left a long time prior to now. I’m afraid that if you want to come and find her you’ll have to adventure yourself through town.”

“Great.” He mumbled. “Wait, they already left?”

He received a glance. A mere one, really. “Do you not own a watch either? It’s past closure time.”

“You’re here.”

“I was needed by my professor.” He trailed his eyes above Hinata’s figure, the way he kept his shoulders tensed, and his back slightly slouched over. He could really use some etiquette. “Truly a concept that’s unimaginable for someone like you—”

“They left without you?”

Nagito paused. Looked at him better. Hinata was frowning, once more, and yet this time his emotions were easy to read, albeit a mixture. He was frustrated, perhaps a little overwhelmed by the situation. He was still covering him with the umbrella. He looked a little offended, too. Concerned. Slightly angry.

Nagito wasn’t a lot of things but he was at the very least self aware. He knew he was a terrible person to be around. However, Hinata never truly got actually mad at his insults. That had made him even more frustrating for a long, long time. And there was truly nothing to be concerned about, certainly not if coming from Hinata of all people, who hated Nagito just as much as the latter hated him. Perhaps he was getting worse when it came to face reading. He was getting worse at a lot of things anyway.

“Obviously.” He said, shivering a bit at the blow of wind that caressed his wet clothes. “Do you really expect them to pause their much more important activities to wait for someone like me?”

“Well.” Hinata rubbed the back of his head. “Yes?”

Nagito stared for a while. Maybe Hinata really was stupid.

“I mean,” He continued, foolishly, “They’re your friends, right? I’m sure waiting for like, another ten minutes wouldn’t have been that bad.”

“As if my presence is worth anything to be missed.” Nagito huffed, “Stop living in your delusions, Hinata-kun, make yourself a favour.”

“Ugh,” Hinata scowled because, once again, he had no capability of feeling shame, “Can't you tell I'm on your side this time —?”

“There is no side to take.”

“Whatever. We're only running in circles.” He huffed, eyed his dripping clothes. “What were you doing, anyway—?

Nagito gave him a look.

“Showering. Obviously.”

“Ha. Ha.” Hinata deadpanned. “You should be the Ultimate Comedian.”

“Never insult them like that ever again.”

Hinata rolled his eyes. Nagito tried to get out of the umbrella, take a few steps back. Hinata took a few forward in response. His gaze said try me.

Childish.

Hopeful.

Nagito shook his head.

“What do you want, Hinata-kun.” Nagito sighed out, “Can’t you let me freeze to death in peace?”

“I’ve already seen you outside here though, right?” Hinata made a small smile. “If anyone was watching they’d know too. That’d make me a witness.”

“Pity.”

“Aren’t your dorms inside the school?” Hinata kept inquiring, because he was nosy like that and couldn’t get the hint to save his life. “You’re lucky. My dorms have a separate building.”

“Luck is quite my thing,” He answered, “Albeit today it seems to lack. Significantly. One unlucky event right after the other.”

Hinata ignored the jab, “Were you headed towards town too?”

Nagito grimaced. He seemed physically unable to mind his own business, was he not. He wondered if reserve course students had any good qualities, or if they were selected to be the most annoying beings possible. Perhaps that was a study, too. Or maybe it was just Hinata. He did act much more irritatingly than the rest of his peers.

“I needed to buy something.” He said, because maybe that would make him give up and he’d be able to wallow in his misery in peace. “It is unfortunately urgent, and I must hurry. Now, if you excuse me—”

“I’ll accompany you.”

Nagito whipped his head around. He stared at him with eyes that hopefully gave away his dislike, and at the same time asked him if he’d bumped his head somewhere. Or if he was dropped as a kid. Probably the second option. He mustn’t be right in the head, if he was willing to walk with Nagito, out of all, who not only treated him like he was nothing (he was), but with his bad luck would probably get them both hit by a stroke of lighting. Or a moving car. Whichever worked.

Hinata’s expression didn’t falter. He’d slipped the bag on his shoulder, like he was getting himself ready to walk. Walk who knew where, too, because he had no idea where Nagito was intended to go. He’d never told him. And he doubted Hinata had some sort of mind reading power, or otherwise he wouldn’t be wearing that tacky piece of clothing. He could only wish he had an amazing talent like that.

He flashed a smile. “No, thank you.”

“I wasn’t asking.” He insisted. “Komaeda, you’re all soaked. The wind is blowing and you’re gonna get a cold. And don’t tell me you want that because I know you’d just be lying out of your ass so please—” He sighed out, “Let me help out.”

Nagito suddenly felt the urge to do a lot. Laugh, because this was absurd. Take the umbrella from his grip and run away. Take it and smash it against Hinata’s hand. Take it and use the handle to stab himself. Bump his head against the wall of the gate repeatedly until he bled out. Mock him. Yell at him.

Because, seriously, why. Why would he ever wish to do something like that.

“…Excuse me?” He managed out, barely, his smile falling too. Hinata had the guts to blush.

“Just—” He cleared his throat. Why was he doing that. Why was it so unappealing to look away. “Just let me.”

“Why…” Nagito had to swallow. Strange. There was nothing in his throat for as much as he was aware. “Why would you… do that..?”

Hinata looked unsure himself. He kicked his foot back and forth, gaze on the floor beneath them. Nagito looked too. There was nothing that interesting worth to gaze at for so long.

“I don’t know.” Hinata said, shrugging. “You look like you need it.”

Nagito frowned.

“You don’t know what I need.” He said. “You don’t care about it.”

“I—” He grimaced. “I don’t.”

“Then why.”

“I want to.”

“Why.”

“Listen, you…” Hinata paused. He seemed to be battling with the words that wanted to come out of his mouth. Odd. Slightly amusing. “I’m gonna be blunt. You look like shit.”

Nagito smiled. “Thank you, Hinata-kun! You’re not the first that tells me so!”

“I just think you don’t have to be alone today.” Hinata insisted. “I-I see it, y’know? You always isolate yourself.”

Nagito’s smile fell quite quickly.

“No I do not.”

“Yes you do.”

“Even if I did it’s none of your business.”

“It might not be, but—”

“In case you’re having memory issues, Hinata-kun—” He cut in, fists clenched behind his back. “I’ve never been the slightest level of kind towards you. Albeit your gesture might seem extremely altruistic, even disgusting scum like me can see I am not deserving of it. So do yourself a favour, and preserve this kindness for someone else, who might actually appreciate your presence as a gift.”

Hinata merely clicked his tongue. He stepped closer.

Nagito held his gaze.

And then there was a slight shift. His eyes were of a nice shade of olive green. And objective observation. Pretty eyes. One of the few qualities he had. Completely wasted on a reserve course student. Nagito should stop looking at them.

And yet they shifted, from hard to slightly gentler, still somewhat careful. Hinata offered his arm.

“Tell me where we need to go —” There is no ‘we’ in question, stop it, “—and we’ll make it before the gate closes, okay?”

“Why.”

“I want to.” He said, once more, like it was a reason that counted. “You have three seconds before I grab your arm and make you.”

“Hinata-kun—”

“Two.”

“You can’t be ser—”

“One.”

“The pharmacy.” He blurted out, because Nagito had no good qualities, and no self control either. “I need to— the nearest pharmacy.”

“Good!” Hinata smiled. “See? It wasn’t that hard.”

It was weird, seeing him smile like that. The only sincere smile he’d ever seen on his face was brief, when he was surrounded by Nagito’s classmates, where he’d laugh with that obnoxious tone and joke around with a voice he wished would cease to exist forever. He surely had never seen it being sent towards his direction, out of all. Not that he ever wished for it. Every day without seeing Hinata was a really good day.

Nagito didn’t have many good days.

“There’s a pharmacy nearby, right?” Hinata then grabbed his arm. Hooked it around his own, perhaps to make them both fit under the objectively quite large enough to not stay that close umbrella. Nagito felt like he couldn’t point that out. “We’re lucky, if that’s the case. We should hurry.”

Nagito felt weird. Maybe it was the rain, the wind blowing against wet tissues that stuck to his skin. His head had already started to hurt anyway, his body constantly taken by shivers. He was sure his nose would clog just tomorrow.

And yet the sensation he felt then was not cold. The opposite, perhaps, with the wave of warmth that spread all the way through him. Which didn’t make sense, because Hinata might have warm skin, but the mere coat he was wearing was not that hot, and the warmth didn’t just stay in the places they were pressed together, instead spreading all the way through his body. His chest, most of all. His heart skipped once more. He suddenly felt really itchy.

And most of all, his head shut off. Nagito, who had so much to say, so many thoughts to process, suddenly couldn’t remember how to breathe properly.

Ah.

He was going to die.

Of course, he knew his luck would kill him sooner or later. It was a mere matter of time, truly. Albeit he never though it’d be with Hinata out of all people right next to him, pressed next to him like that. Maybe he’d get accused for murder. He wished he could be there to see it.

Seconds passed. He was still alive.

Hinata was smiling at him. At him. In Nagito’s direction. Nagito, who felt his face burn. Possibly in the embarrassment of having to be saved like that, like a damsel in distress.

He didn’t really register that they’d started to walk until he felt the sharp pain of his arm being pulled. Hinata was clearly trying to get him to hurry up. The most incredible audacity of this guy. Nagito couldn’t comment on it. For some reason.

The trip to the pharmacy was a blur. He was lucky that it were nearby, as otherwise, it would have taken a much longer time dripping under the rain like that. He wondered if it were possible to pass out that way. He should ask Tsumiki about it, some day. That would probably give the poor girl an heart attack.

Hinata stopped right in front of the pharmacy. He hummed, “This one, right?”

Nagito sighed, crossing his arms. “Do you see any other pharmacies here, Hinata-kun?”

“H-Hey…”

Hinata seemed really sensitive to embarrassment, Nagito noted. He got defensive easily, and blushed quite often. He’d yell and hit you without any real force and wave his hand as if that would be enough to dismiss the matter. It was sort of ridiculous.

Nagito closed his eyes for a second. “Very well. Thank you for your kindness, I’ll—”

“Wait—” Hinata grabbed his wrist. The sensation of impending death restarted all the way from step one once more.

He turned his head, silently praying without actually believing in it that something would fall onto them and kill Hinata instantly.

“What now, Hinata-kun.”

“You’re all soaked.” Hinata pointed out, “Can you even enter a place like that this way?”

Nagito looked at his own clothes. He was quite soaked indeed, his clothes still dripping. He would definitely make a mess.

“Ah.” He frowned. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Y-Yeah…”

“So I did all of this for nothing. Hm. Wonderful.” He nodded, “Very well. Let’s get back, Hinata-kun—”

“B-But, your medicine—?”

“I’ll get them another day.” He waved his hand, “I can survive without a few pills.”

“You said it was urgent.”

“I was lying.”

“Yeah, right.” Hinata huffed. “I’ll go in.”

Nagito stared at him once more. He’d stared at him a lot that day, much more than he would have normally liked.

“Pardon.”

“I’ll go in, and get whatever you need to get.” Hinata said, way too helpful. Why was he being so insistent, so keen on minding Nagito’s business? Why would anyone do something like that. “What’s the name?”

Nagito would have loved to argue back. He would have loved to shove Hinata aside and call him crazy, noisy, absolutely insufferable. Who was he to demand something like that? He and Nagito had barely spoken for more than thirty minutes all combined through their whole time knowing each other. There was absolutely no reason for him to be this caring, nor for Nagito to tell him anything about his personal medical issues. He had absolutely zero right to know.

And he would have told him that if Hinata hadn’t had the bright idea to touch Nagito’s shoulder like that. All soft, helpful smiles and gentle rubbing of his fingers. Nagito felt like he couldn’t really remember how to breathe properly. Like his lungs couldn’t work properly, not really, not when Hinata was touching him. When Nagito felt so fuzzy and strangely jumpy, and he couldn’t really decide if he wanted to run away from him or scoot closer towards Hinata’s arms.

Why would he do that. Why would he ever want to do that.

His head was spinning. The only thing keeping him up had to be Hinata’s touch.

He gulped. “It’s—” His voice was raspy. Why was his voice raspy. “It’s— prescriptive. You need— hm.”

“Can I have it?”

Obnoxious. Invasive. Arrogant.

Nagito reached in his bag and handed him the prescription. Hinata passed him the umbrella’s handle, and Nagito remained standing there, like an idiot, holding an umbrella that wasn’t his while a guy he had never been remotely nice to went inside a pharmacy to grab him some pills he needed in order to stay alive.

And he felt frozen. His heart was beating strangely quickly, and he had to bring out an hand to feel it, squeezing tightly around the material of his blazer. He waited for it to stop and for his body to drop on the ground in pain, which of course did not happen, for his luck hated him. Maybe this was Hinata’s way to get revenge from Nagito’s constant horrible behavior. Maybe there was poison in his arm and he passed it to him through touch. Maybe he just had the power to do that.

This was how he was going to die. Holding an umbrella and collapsed on the floor during a storm. Killed by a reserve course student leech. It couldn’t get more embarrassing.

Nagito, however, did not die that day. No, he stayed there until the door opened once more, Hinata holding the bag with the pills with a smile that made him feel too much to be considered sane, scooted under the umbrella and told him something Nagito couldn’t hear. The world had suddenly turned pink. For some reason. He wasn’t lucid enough to question it.

They made their way back to the academy. Hinata said something about hoping his gate hadn’t closed yet, so he could go back to his dorm. Nagito was still wet, shivering, and in a daze-like state when Hinata waved at him goodbye, his hand barely able to raise and wave back. He felt strange. He couldn’t put a finger on why.

He made his way to his dorm, not able to apologize to those that stared because he was making a mess on the floor due the water, and got inside. Nagito barely registered the fact he’d sat down.

He looked inside the bag. The correct pills. That Hinata had got him. For. Some reason.

Nagito placed them on the desk. He grabbed his phone, dialed Tsumiki’s number.

“U-Uhm, hello—?” Her shy tone muttered in his ear. “K-Komaeda-san—?”

He took a few seconds to correctly form words.

“Tsumiki-san,” He muttered, “I apologize for bothering you.”

“It-It’s okay—” She rushed, “Y-You’re not b-bothering— What’s, uhm, what’s wrong—?”

“Is it normal to feel like my chest is going to explode?”

“W-W-W-WHAT?!”

3.

Nagito thought he was persecuted by bad luck lately. Which wasn’t a novelty by any means, believe him, but it really gets to a point.

He wasn’t sure he’d been all that lucky lately either. One episode of bad luck after the other, without positive consequences, not even the slightest hopeful situation, nor an event that caused as much despair as it would be needed to spring a beautiful event right after. Things were merely just annoying.

Perhaps that was the true bad luck he was experiencing right now, the possibility of not getting anything good. Slightly terrifying, but Nagito kind of liked being kept on his toes. Sometimes.

But this was getting ridiculous.

He already didn’t want to be here. Like the ungrateful, lowly bug he was, he truly wasn’t eager to join the rest of his class when it came to trips. Even if it weren’t anything significant, even just a small walk in campus, he merely knew it was just a matter of time until something happened and ruined the whole thing. Nagito had a lot of experience in ruining things.

Mioda had been the one dragging him outside that afternoon. She’d directly knocked on his door, actually, and with a big grin and hands on her hips like she’d gotten everything already decided demanded for him to get out with her and Tsumiki. And he’d wished to refuse, because Nagito was not smart nor capable nor observant, but he had functioning eyes and he could see the two of them had a beautiful union waiting to blossom, and he would just be in the way.

Nagito himself was aware he’d never experience this sort of union. That was okay, in some sort of sense, he was too repulsive for anyone to be remotely interested in him anyway, both in and out, and despite his selfish heart craving for human connection before his inevitable demise, he was also self aware enough to know this was not going to happen. He was more than content with standing behind a beautiful couple and silently hope the whole time that his luck was only going to bring them the most beautiful things happening.

Some people — Soda, for example — tended to complain when it came to hanging out with two people that act like a couple. Third wheeling, they called it, which tended to become awkward and somewhat lonely. But most of Nagito’s interactions were awkward and lonely, so what difference did a certain other more specific situation make? Nagito didn’t mind, as long as he was included, for it was one of the rarest events.

And really, sometimes he avoided it, especially if he had a somewhat bad feeling about it. If he’d been too lucky recently, or if he just knew something was going to go wrong. Albeit there had be no good luck recently, he still tried to decline — but he might have faked being sick one too many times, and so Mioda dragged him out anyway.

Now they were walking around campus. The gardens were beautiful and meticulously taken care of by the Ultimate botanist, one of their upperclassmen, and Nagito took his time to admire such greatness. He truly did not deserve to be part of this, not at all. And yet here he was, behind two of his closest — woah — classmates walking in front of him while their hands were being held, Mioda skipping happily in her steps while Tsumiki gave her a shy smile, struggling to keep up with her pace.

“I’m starving!” Mioda commented, coming to a halt. Tsumiki tripped, soon steadied by an arm around her waist. “What do you say, Nagito-chan?”

He blinked, raising his head. Being interpellated to actually join a conversation was a novelty for sure, and he smiled.

“I’m alright with anything, if Tsumiki-san agrees as well.”

“U-U-Uhm…” She rubbed her hands nervously. “I-It’s fine with me…”

“Let’s go!” Mioda pumped her fist, starting to sprint towards the gate. “Come on, you two!”

“A-A-AH—! M-Mioda-san—!”

Poor Tsumiki got pulled by her much more energetic companion with speed she wasn’t all too able to match.

Nagito chuckled under his breath. All things considered, the sky was clear this time, no trees branches had fallen onto them, and there was a very small possibility of there being an earthquake, so he was relieved to say things were going quite well.

In the haste of speeding, Mioda wasn’t really looking where she was going. Hence she bumped onto someone, that someone being, luckily, merely Nanami entering the gate.

And Hinata following her like he was some sort of shadow. Because of course he would.

Maybe one day Nagito would learn to keep his mouth shut.

“Waaa, sorry—!” Mioda rubbed her forehead. “You okay, Chiaki-chan?”

“I’m alright.” She smiled, “Hi Tsumiki, Komaeda.”

“H-Hello…”

“Most splendid afternoon, Nanami-san.”

Hinata raised his hand in a wave. Nagito averted his gaze, because merely looking at his face made his insides churn.

…Literally. Huh.

“We were gonna get something to eat,” Mioda smiled. “You guys could join!”

No, please and thank you. Nagito closed his eyes. He was having such a good time. Why did this keep happening. This is why he never had a good time. It jinxed it.

Nanami, for her part, tapped her chin in thought. “We were just retrieving to my dorm. Hinata needs to help me out with one of my final bosses.”

Hinata rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s more keeping you company than actually helping out…”

“Same thing.” She shrugged. “But I’m fine with a little stop. Are you?”

“I mean— sure?” He managed a smile. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Always!” Mioda giggled, “Come on, come on!”

Nagito wondered if it was too late to fake a seizure. Tsumiki would probably clock in a matter of seconds. If he threatened her, would she keep quiet? Ah. They would hold it against him anyway.

He met Hinata’s gaze as an accident. The boy merely gave him a friendlier expression, which was wrong. Really wrong. Since when were they in such good terms. They weren’t… no, they were not friends. Imagine being friends with someone like him.

Nagito shook his head.

He forced himself to follow suit as the others begun walking. He took a few breaths, just to steady himself a little better since Hinata was still walking with Nanami, away from him, exactly as things should be. It was okay so far. Maybe his bad luck would target him out of all. That would very much be preferable. Hinata could use a good reality check. Some humiliation never truly hurt anyone.

What was with his way of walking anyway. Nagito clenched his jaw, eyes observing the way his legs moved. Still covered in black, taking slower steps in order to match Nanami’s pacing. It was shocking to see how caring this loser of a man seemed to be when it came to her, or anyone he remotely ignorantly cared about, as well, always seeming to make little efforts and gestures to appease them and their personal cravings. He was quite doting, that was to be said.

Nagito bit the inside of his cheek. It’s not like he cared about what Hinata did when he was deluding himself. But he did wonder if he’d ever do something like that for anyone. For him. Not that he actually wanted to see it, obviously, it would just be ironic, hypocritical. Exactly as expected from someone like him.

Not paying attention always gave Nagito problems. He’d trip and fall on the streets, risking to get hit by cars of all kinds. He almost got hit by a bike once, it’d been quite comical. Or he’d say the wrong thing, get too lost on his thoughts and eventually left alone because he was already displeasing to talk to, figures when he was ignoring who graced him with consideration. He was capable of dissociating in the middle of doing school work, too, hence why his grades had always fallen on the average category. He was glad Hope’s Peak didn’t value such nonsensities.

Regardless, as of right now, he was not indeed paying attention. And the fact that everything had been going way too well sometimes should have been an alarming bell, but of course he was so incompetent he couldn’t even listen to that.

And so his foot caught in a rock. And he tripped, pretty badly, his leg twisting so suddenly he couldn’t hold in a surprised yelp.

“Nagito-chan?!” Mioda stopped walking first. She rushed back to crouch down to his level — undeserved, of course, as such care and concern was not something he should relish in. “Are you okay?!”

The rest of them stopped in their tracks, too. Tsumiki rushed over, too, which wasn’t really necessary, for it didn’t hurt all that much, if not at all. He touched his ankle, which was only aching a little bit. Freaking out was incredibly unnecessary.

“I’m okay!” He assured, laughing it off, “I’ve done way worse falls than this, I can assure you I—”

He tried to stand up. Unfortunately, the second he put his foot down the pain was a little too consistent for him to hide it, and he cried out, sinking back on the ground.

“Komaeda!” Nanami rushed over too. “Are you hurt?”

“I-I’m fine, really!” He insisted, raising his hands. Ah, this was so shameful, having such prestigious Ultimates fuss over him this intensely. He should really perish.

“I-I-I’t best if you don’t walk for now…” Tsumiki muttered, “I-I could patch you up in the infirmary — AAH, if y-you’re okay with it, of course—!”

“A-Ah—” He felt his face go red. He really did not deserve any of this, everyone else should go back to where they were headed and leave him there to suffer the consequences of his own misfortune. “No, no, really, I’ll be just going back to my dorm. You should still go grab a bite, of course! Don’t let me distract you from your plans.”

“You sure?” Mioda grabbed his shoulder. “We can reschedule. Ibuki doesn’t mind.”

“Ah, no, it’s fine.” He smiled. “If you’ll excuse me—”

He tried to stand up once more. Fell down again. He hoped the glare he sent to his own leg was subtle.

“You can’t get to your dorm like this, I think…” Nanami mumbled. “I could call Miss Yukizome.”

“N-No, seriously, there is no need for —”

“F-Fuck it, come on.”

Hinata came closer. No, everyone but him, please. Just let him die already, why must the torture keep going on like that? Was he a serial killer in his past life? Was this his punishment? He was willing to cut off an hand to take this weight off, he wouldn’t joke around. Preferably his left one, just so he wouldn’t struggle all too much. He wondered how costly a prosthetic would be.

He shook off the thought for now.

“I can carry you there.” Hinata offered, looking like he actually meant it. Nagito wanted to scream. “It’s not a long trip there, and you’re pretty light.”

“Oooooh!” Mioda grinned, “I didn’t know Hajime-chan was that strong!”

“I-I’m not,” He blushed, and for some reason, Nagito couldn’t take his eyes off his darker cheeks. “It’s just to help him out.”

“Ah—” Nagito wasn’t all that sure as of why, but the mental image just wouldn’t leave his head. Completely ridiculous, up to the point where he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry, yet somewhat appealing. Which was a big alarm bell that he wasn’t all that eager to ignore this time. “There is absolutely zero need! I can merely crawl my way there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Hinata shook his head. “C’mon.”

He crouched down, one arm scooting under Nagito’s raised knees, his free hand guiding Nagito’s arm around his shoulders. He then wrapped it steadily on his back, and lifted him up with little no struggle at all, stumbling a bit when Nagito’s hands automatically wrapped around his neck, but still managing to hold him up enough to ensure he wouldn’t fall.

“There we go.” He dared to smile.

Nagito suddenly felt worse. Much worse, so much worse he couldn’t feel the pain in his ankle anymore. His whole body felt on the edge. His head was dizzy again, and he started to really suspect a lot harder that it was all Hinata’s fault, because why did he always happen when he was around? Nagito’s fingers twitched, he could feel Hinata’s body pressed really tightly against his own, warm, really warm, his arms tense while holding him up, and yet somewhat strong. Nagito could feel the muscle pressed against his back. The feeling of his fingers on his thigh.

Hajime’s hands were wide, and his body was thin, so they were very much able to cup a lot, when it came to Nagito. He wasn’t really sure as of why he was registering that. He didn’t dare look up at his face, maybe because he couldn’t bear the risk of having to witness an awkward smile or a smug grin or a flustered expression or whatever Hinata was capable of. His neck was quite warm under Nagito’s much colder fingertips, however, so he might guess the third option was more correct. Nagito was not much better, he felt like his face could catch on fire any second, way too red for such a ridiculous situation.

He wasn’t aware one could blush this much. Why was he even blushing in the first place. Perhaps from embarrassment. It was probably that. But the accelerated beat of his heart was quite concerning, perhaps. Maybe he was going to pass out.

He dared glance up. Hinata’s smile was quite frustrated, yet sincere. His cheekbones were a soft pink.

Yeah. He was definitely going to pass out.

“The keys are in your bag, right?” Hinata asked, his words slightly slurred when they reached Nagito’s ears.

“U-Uh—?”

“The keys for your dorm?” Hinata said, and Nagito jumped when he felt the slow caress of circles being drawn against his back. “You have it, yes?”

“A-A-Ah—” What was wrong with him. Why couldn’t he speak properly. Why was everything coming out in stutters. Maybe he was about to have a stroke. “Y—Yes?”

“Good.” Hinata turned towards the girls. “I’ll come back once I drop him off.”

“M-Make sure he puts some ice on it…” Tsumiki united her hands together. “A-A-A-And d-d-don’t let him get up from his bed, w-with his leg on a p-pillow, p-please..”

“I got it.” Hinata said, “Nanami, can you send a text to Yukizome? Just in case, uh…”

“The staff isn’t going to kick you out, you know.” She tilted her head. “That was established, I think.”

“Just to make sure.”

“Hm. Alright.” She smiled. “Thank you for making sure Komaeda is okay.”

“It’s the minimum.” Hinata dismissed. Why did that make Nagito’s insides feel fluttery? “See you guys later.”

And so Hinata begun walking towards a building he should have never stepped close to, Nagito having to cling closer as to not slip and fall.

This was probably the worst bad luck that had ever happened to him in the whole course of his life. A substitute reserve course student should never touch an ultimate like this, not even such a low level, horrible, pathetic Ultimate like Nagito himself. He should surely not be hurrying towards such a prestigious Academy with a lowly bug like him in his arms, should not be looking this comfortable yet careful while he took steady steps to regulate both of their weight.

Hinata was… definitely quite strong. Strong enough to carry him like that without much of a struggle, enough to not have his arms deceive him and give out and let the both of them tumble on the ground. Nagito’s hands unconsciously slipped from his neck, his left one sliding towards his chest. An impressive chest. Connected to a pair of large shoulders and strong biceps and large hands and and and and and—

His head was spinning. Nagito couldn’t look away. For some reason. And his thoughts were a mess, and his mouth was suddenly salivating, and his lips were quivering, and his fingers were shaking, and he had absolutely zero idea of what in the name of everything was happening to him. He felt the urge to laugh at the most absolute absurdity of everything. Was he going to die? He thought he would so many times so far. He never did.

Hinata didn’t comment on the shift of his movements, completely focused on opening the door and being careful to not let Nagito’s injured leg bump on anything as he managed to get inside.

“Dorms, dorms…” He mumbled, “First floor, right?”

“U-Uh—” Nagito snapped his head up. “What?”

“The dorms.” Hinata smiled a bit. “Sometimes I come here with Nanami, but it’s not often. First floor, yeah?”

Nagito swallowed a weight in his throat he wasn’t aware he had. That smile did. Things to him. Bad things. It only made the sensation worse. He should look away, why wasn’t he looking away.

This was downright disastrous. Nagito wished he could be dead right now. He’d wished so a lot of times, truly, but as of right now, it was probably what he desired the most. It would be so much better than whatever the hell he was going through right now.

Was Hinata at fault for this, he asked himself, did he do anything significant to make him feel even sicker? Was he even capable of that, he wondered. That’d be impressive. A skill completely wasted on someone like him.

He managed a wordless nod. Hinata nodded back, proceeded to walk through the corridor while carrying him in the meanwhile. He didn’t ask Nagito for directions, sometimes stopping in his tracks either to adjust Nagito’s position or direct himself through hallways he wasn’t familiar with.

Nagito’s heart was still beating quite steadily. It just refused to slow down, acutely aware there could be students turning in their direction at any moment, and somehow that wasn’t even his worst concern. Nagito Komaeda, who never dared to breathe the same air as a reserve course student, was being carried by one at this very moment and he wasn’t even worried about someone seeing them together. He guessed seeing two pieces of trash were common to be seen together, so there was no actual way anyone was going to actually get scandalized by the view.

Nagito’s neck ached with the way he was trying to get some distance between them. He shifted in a way he hoped would be subtle, but Hinata seemed to notice anyway.

“Are you okay?”

Nagito cleared his throat. “Hmhm. Yes. My neck is just protesting. It’s gonna be okay soon.”

“You can lean on me if you want.” Hinata shrugged, like that wasn’t an absolutely ridiculous thing to say. “We’re almost there anyway. Here.”

He shifted his arm so he could guide Nagito’s head in the crook of his neck. If his face was burning back then, now it was about to explode.

Hinata just… smelled really nice. Nagito swallowed. It was a mixture of sweat, musk, some sort of deodorant he might have put on in early morning. It seemed to be fading now, but it was still surprisingly nice. He suddenly felt the urge to bury his head deeper in and take a big inhale, which would be stupid and pointless and ridiculous and he was not actually going to do that, obviously.

He closed his eyes. Why was the movement actually quite soothing? What bad luck. He was only ridiculing himself further, letting himself be this weak with the only person that should never have crossed paths with him in the first place.

Hinata searched for a room with Nagito’s nameplate on it, and stopped right in front. “Can you give me the key?”

Nagito, who’d been too busy figuring out the muscle percentage of Hinata’s shoulder, had to take a few seconds to process what he’d just asked.

“Pardon?”

“The key, for your dorm?” He smiled a bit. “I can’t just slam the door down.”

“A-Ah. Yes. Correct.” Nagito cleared his throat, reached into his bag with some difficulty.

Hinata angled him so he could fit the key through the lock. He then managed to open it without dropping him, closing it shut with a light kick. Such indecency and disrespect towards a wonderfully prestigious Academy that Nagito would have normally wasted zero time pointing out. He was not doing that right now. It was probably because his head was still spinning too hard. He wasn’t aware twisting an ankle could cause this much confusion.

He did not fixate at all on the way Hinata delicately dropped him on the mattress, his hands careful to slide away from his body. He grabbed a pillow, which could have been done by himself really easily, thank you, placed it under his injured leg with care. He stood back up.

“Do you have any ice somewhere?”

“Uhm.” He cleared his throat. “There’s no need for that.”

“There is, I promised Tsumiki after all.” He smiled. “Is that a mini fridge?”

“Uh.” He answered, very intelligently. “Yes?”

Hinata stood up to go open it. It didn’t really occur to Nagito that he stored personal things inside, or the fact that he wasn’t really supposed to keep that hidden under his desk, or that taking the ice out would probably mean having some of those things could lack of efficacy and he’d have to go through a lot to get another. He was a little too busy following Hinata’s movements like he were hypnotized, move his eyes all the way through his spine, legs, arms, and anything else that tended to flex when he bent over. For curiosity, you see, for Nagito was a really dedicated observer on that matter.

He then walked towards the bathroom — invited himself in, like that was normal — to grab a towel, wrapping it around the ice he’d grabbed. He made his way back on the bed, sitting on the side. He then took off his shoe, which was not needed, raised up the hem of his pants, another thing that was absolutely not necessary, to then gently place it above Nagito’s ankle.

Nagito cleared his throat. “You seem pretty accustomed to this kind of thing.”

Hinata shrugged. “I’m just doing what Tsumiki told me to.”

“With great efficiency, I must admit…” Nagito hummed, turning his head. “Not entirely bad for a reserve course student.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Such skills are completely wasted on someone like me..” He raised his shoulders. “Ah. What a lucky stroke that I haven’t died already.”

“You… surely talk about death a lot.” Hinata rubbed the back of his head. And then he did a very stupid thing, because his hand touched Nagito’s arm, and he absolutely should not have done that, there was no justification for him to do that, nor for his fingers to stroke him so gently, like he was actually accommodated to it. Nagito stared at them like they were a ghost.

“Try to rest, okay?” Hinata stood up. “And I will send Nanami to check on you later, so don’t try to sneak out, alright?”

Nagito merely gulped. He managed a snort.

“As if I could actually go anywhere like that.” He gestured at his ankle. “I don’t believe I would actually have the will to go anywhere.”

“Who knows.” Hinata chuckled. “Rest well, Komaeda.”

Hinata made his way to the door. Nagito cleared his throat. Heavily.

He turned back around. “What?”

“…Thank you.” He blurted out, quickly. He wanted to disappear.

Hinata blinked. “What was that—?”

“T-Thank you. Hinata-kun.”

He begged the ceiling would fall onto him right now. He did not have such luck.

Hinata smiled.

“I know. I heard you.”

“W-What—”

“Bye, Komaeda.”

The door closed behind him. Nagito’s heart begun its solo race once more, and he had to grab both at his face and chest to not pass out.

He hugged himself, sinking further in his pillows. Oh, how he needed some good sleep. He just hoped he wouldn’t start throwing up in the middle of it, for his stomach felt like it was doing continuous backflips inside its cavity. Cleaning it up would surely be a nuisance.

4.

Nagito had been feeling a lot, lately.

He reasoned his body was catching up with him again. He was ill in many different ways, after all, it was only logical to assume things could only go south soon enough. His doctors had since the start told him he wasn’t bound to last more than a year and a half. The fact he’d survived a little longer was already an incredible stroke of luck.

And, well, it wasn’t truly a surprise that he was starting to get worse. The continuous sensation of his organs twisting within each other and his chest feeling so tight he couldn’t breathe and his heart speeding up and his palms starting to sweat despite not being hot in the slightest was surely doing a number on him, especially because they brought to little no results whatsoever. They were temporary, which was probably the worst part of it, because really, it was only anxiety inducing and so frustrating and disappointing all at the same time.

What kind of symptoms came with no doom? Everything that Nagito had experienced through his whole life always had some sort of consequence. It felt like there weren’t here, none at all, so instead of the excitement for anything unexpected, Nagito was slowly starting to get merely irritated.

The worst part was that these symptoms did not come often. Only in certain situations that he was so sure had some sort of common factor, but he couldn’t exactly put a finger on what it was. As for now, he guessed he was bound to the whole unpredictability of it. As if he needed any more in his already pathetic, way too chaotic for his sanity life. If he had any left, that was.

Thing is, at some point, Nagito convinced himself he was able to get used to those kind of feeling. If they came, he was going to recognize they were not lethal and wouldn’t bring him any sort of harm. Annoying, yes, but at the end of the day nothing was going to happen.

He could recognize them. Not predict them, unfortunately, but every feeling was well known. It wasn’t all too bad if he was accustomed to it, he’d decided.

And then his life said ‘No, no thanks, having it easy is for losers’ and gave him a feeling he’d never felt in his whole, sad, way too long life.

The sun had just begun to set when Nagito made his way with Kuzuryu towards the gates, the smaller man telling him about something that had happened with Soda that morning. He couldn’t exactly say what the relationship within the both of them was, given how often they argued and yet how fierce Kuzuryu was when it came to his friend’s protection. Perhaps it was his own level of closeness, it’s not like Nagito had all of that experience to compare this to.

Yet he enjoyed witnessing such beautiful relationships no matter what kind of behavior towards each other they demonstrated. He couldn’t affirm he was at the same level as them, as they merely stand his presence rather than actually gave him some genuine interest in hanging out — not that he really minded, obviously, for he was immensely lucky to be included in the first place.

“He needs to chill the fuck out that’s all.” Kuzuryu was grumbling. “I swear he talks about Tanaka more than the girl he’s crushing on. What the fuck is a machine even gonna do to keep them separated anyway?!”

“Soda-kun is certainly ambitious.” Nagito waved his hand. “I’m sure he’s well intentioned.”

“Up till a fucking point.” Kuzuryu rolled his eyes. “He gotta get the fucking hint, man. He’s only gonna scare her away.”

“Mh, I merely wish him the best happiness.”

“He’s not gonna find it with some fucking machine, that’s for sure. And he’s so fucking stubborn—”

Nagito made a lot of mistakes. Often too, he wasn’t above admitting his own wrongs. Wether they came from a lack of judgment, or if they were at fault due his luck, or if he weren’t paying enough attention, Nagito was prone to do things wrong.

As for now, he must have been foolish to raise his eyes. But then again, his luck really had been playing games on him lately, so would he really be that much at fault this time?

He wouldn’t have been all that surprised to notice Hinata walking by the gate. Because of course he would be, and at this point, Nagito expected it. Hajime Hinata was the bane of his existence, and his luck, which wanted him to suffer, was not going to let him rest and would ensure they met at any single situation possible to human kind.

Nagito was not surprised. He just stopped in his step, because, well, he might not have been the person with the sharpest memory, nor the sharpest at all, he wasn’t smart enough for that, but he really did not recognize the person standing next to him. A girl, actually. Why was he focusing so much on that, he didn’t care if there was a girl next to such an insignificant person.

But she was elbowing his arm, and he was laughing, and both of their smiles were wide and sort of genuine and cheerful and he seemed to be having fun. Maybe they were friends. Hinata was a nobody, but he was obviously more pleasing to be around than Nagito was, so he probably had much more friends than he knew about in that stupid course of studies he frequented. That didn’t mean anything, because he really did not care.

And yet he did ask himself who she was. Nagito didn’t pay too much attention to girls but he could guess she was considered to be objectively pretty. Her hair arrived to her shoulder in a soft blonde shade, her cheeks slightly red, her eyes sharp and fierce. Did she have freckles? Did Hinata like the fact she had freckles? They surely looked comfortable with each other.

Nagito did not pay a lot of attention. But that perhaps meant they were dating. Which was.. well, fine enough, because reserve course students were insignificant and stupid and nothing more than disgusting leeches that only deserved each other in a matched lameness that nobody else should get forced to handle, hence why they were an objectively good couple. Nagito was completely happy for them. He was happy that Hinata wasn’t going to contaminate anyone else with his presence. The world would finally be a more hopeful place.

But his hands clenched around the strap of his bag, they were shaking a bit, he wasn’t really sure of why. There was a new sensation deep in the inside of his chest, one he was not really accustomed to, a sudden weight that was not pleasing in the slightest, almost making him want to double over in pain. He wanted to rush over and interrupt them. He wanted to grab Hinata and pull him away from her.

He didn’t actually want to do that. No, why would he. He merely just wanted to get the two of them away from each other. Far away. As much as he possibly could. He felt twitchy, not in the somewhat warm way that had tormented him lately, but in a somewhat heavier wave of despairful feelings that had him unable to move correctly. He felt anchored to the ground.

He wasn’t really sure of what was happening. At all, actually. This was new. He did not like new things.

Who is that girl, he kept thinking, over and over again until it felt like his brain had been stuck on a loop. Who is she. Why is she touching him like that. Why is he laughing like that. Why do I care. I do not care. But could she step away. I want her to step away.

Kuzuryu did notice he’d stopped, and elbowed his arm. “Oi. What’s wrong with you now?”

“Hm—?” Nagito blinked, looked at his classmate. “Oh. Uhm.”

He raised his head once more. “Nothing. I didn’t know Hinata-kun had a girlfriend.”

“Hinata?” Kuzuryu frowned. “What does he have to do with —” He followed Nagito’s gaze. “Huh. What’s he even doing here anywa— Is that my fucking sister?!”

Kuzuryu started to sprint towards them. Nagito, who’d snapped out of the daze, felt like it was his own duty to follow suit.

“Hinata, you son of a bitch—” Kuzuryu called out, and Hinata must have heard him quite well, given the way he jumped. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Huh—?” He blinked, “A-Ah, Kuzuryu, we were just—”

“What the fuck are you doing with my sister, dumbass?!”

Ah. His sister. Nagito nodded to himself. This girl did look quite similar to him, now that he saw her up close. She lacked of the charm that made Kuzuryu an Ultimate, that was for sure. Completely uninteresting, uncharacteristical, plainly boring. He couldn’t understand what Hinata saw in her.

“Fuck are you talking about?” The girl placed an hand on her hip. She was slightly taller than her brother, but their frown was the exact same. “He was walking with me.”

Kuzuryu grabbed Hinata’s shirt, who raised his hands with a clueless and somewhat afraid expression. Understandable, given what Kuzuryu was like when he was angry.

“You think you can just go around and date my fucking family members?” He hissed out, “You didn’t even talk to me about it?!”

“D-Date—?!”

“Oh, that’s fuckin’ rich!” The girl snorted. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a grown fucking woman?! I can do whatever I want!”

“Natsumi, shut the fuck up!”

“You shut the fuck up! Why am I being treated like some doll?!”

“We’re not dating in the first place!” Hinata hurried to say, “W-We were just looking for you!”

Kuzuryu rolled his eyes. “Tch. You fuckin’ for real?”

“O-Of course—!” He closed his eyes. “I wouldn’t date her without telling you first—”

“Hinata, you fucking pussy!”

“Kuzuryu, please shut up and calm your brother down.”

“It appears there is a misunderstanding!” Nagito, who had been watching the back and forth with considerate interest and was now somehow feeling a lot lighter than before, strode in. “Kuzuryu-kun and I merely noticed how close you two look, and jumped to conclusions. You could say it was my mistake most of all!” He turned to his classmate. “Now, please let him go, we wouldn’t want to get in trouble.”

Kuzuryu snorted, but did let go of Hinata, who took a sigh of relief.

Natsumi rolled her eyes. “You’re so ridiculous. You wanna play overprotective brother now?”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

Hinata hurried to fix his vest. He looked pleasing when he was this frustrated. Nagito shook away the thought.

The two siblings started a fight that looked a lot more like heat less bickering than anything filled with actual anger. The feeling in Nagito’s chest had almost dissipated completely. Almost.

“So,” He started, approaching Hinata with his hands behind his back. A first, perhaps, because he’d never thought he’d approach him in a million years. How times change when you’re so sick! “It appears this was a really unfortunate situation.”

“You don’t say…” Hinata sighed. “I thought he was going to kill me for a second.”

“Kuzuryu-kun is certainly quite scary when he’s angry.” Nagito raised his hands with a light chuckle, “Good thing he wasn’t ill intentioned.”

“Speak for yourself…” Hinata rubbed the back of his neck. “How did you even come up with that anyway?”

The feeling became more accentuated. It made his eye twitch, as he was starting to loathe it more than all the other strange sensations that had been pursuing him as of recently. Nagito forced a close eyed smile.

“Ah, well,” His hands were shaking. Why were his hands shaking. “You two merely seemed really close. I believe it was an automatic assumption.”

“W-Well, it’s quite wrong.” Hinata crossed his arms. “We’re just friends.”

Nagito kept smiling. He wasn’t sure as of why exactly was he so happy to hear that. “Ah, I see. And you don’t like her?”

“D-Don’t— I mean—” His cheeks flushed. Nagito felt like he wanted to collapse on th ground and die, which wouldn’t make sense because Hinata was the one being teased as of right now, not him. “I don’t.”

“You face says otherwise, Hinata-kun…”

“Stop that!” He rubbed his cheeks furiously. “This is just incredibly embarrassing.”

“There is absolutely nothing embarrassing int he wonderful hope that springs upon the union of two human beings.” Nagito united his hands together. “Especially if insignificant reserve course trash spend all their time together and hence avoid spreading their plainness all over the actually talented Ultimates!”

Hinata was the kind to get irritated easily. There were times where he’d storm off or start yelling back if Nagito went slightly too overboard, that was how sensible this guy could be. One comment about his course of studies was enough to humiliate him, which, well, was understandable, considering its reputation. Nagito liked it when he became defensive. Bickering with Hinata was a good way to let off some steam.

And yet, for some reason he could not figure out, Hinata merely rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. Actually smiling. What was there to smile about. Absolutely nothing. Nagito had done it to piss him off, not make him happy. Why would he ever want to make him happy. That wasn’t what he did.

“If you say so, Komaeda.” Hinata waved his hand. “You sound like a broken disk sometimes.”

Nagito’s smile dropped. Slowly, but it still made him pause. Hinata wasn’t angry. Hinata was taking this well. Since when did he do that. Since when.

“I—” He cleared his throat. “Ah, I apologize. I suppose listening to me can get quite painful.

“That’s not what I meant.” Hinata shrugged. “You just repeat yourself a lot. With different words I guess, but you still say the same thing.

Hm.

“I see.” He hummed, “I guess I will have to come up with something better to satisfy your pleasure for humiliation, Hinata-kun.”

“D-Don’t say it like that…”

Nagito chuckled. Behind them, the two were still arguing.

Hinata grimaced. “Are they gonna stop anytime soon?”

“Probably not.” Nagito tapped his chin. “I didn’t know Kuzuryu-kun was so protective of his family. Just as expected from the Ultimate Yakuza, to be this fierce about his own blood.”

“I mean, she’s his younger sister.” Hinata guessed, “I suppose he’s just acting like any older brother.”

“I suppose…” Nagito shrugged. “I might not have siblings, but I think I understand.”

“You do?”

“Hmhm…” He smiled. “Dating Hinata-kun… what a never ending nightmare.”

Hinata flushed slightly. He rubbed the back of his neck, his head turned while his free arm wrapped around his own torso.

“Would it really be that bad?” He mumbled. “Dating me?”

That made him pause for a second. Hinata often got frustrated, albeit shy had never been a word to describe him. He looked reluctant, yes, yet somehow genuine. Insecure. This was usually where Nagito wanted to get him. But he’d never truly allowed himself to be this vulnerable in front of him before.

He couldn’t think of a single reason why Hinata would allow a piece of useless scum like him out of all to see this side of himself.

“I…” He blinked. “I was merely teasing.”

“Yeah,” Hinata shrugged. “I guess. Sorry.”

“It’s—” Nagito raised his hands. He loved words, and albeit he wasn’t able to master them completely, as he lacked of basic knowledge for it, but he’d never truly been out of it if he were in a remotely good health. As of now, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep up with mockery, or if he wanted to comfort him. That would be rich. He would never comfort a person like him, not in a million years. And yet — “It’s fine. I’m sure Hinata-kun can be quite pleasing for most.”

Hinata smiled a bit. “You say?”

“Surely.” He was not sure at all. He didn’t mean it. Obviously. He cleared his throat, deciding he really should just keep this in a safe territory before he said anything he might regret, again. “Why’s that, hm? Is Hinata-kun actually interested in someone?”

Wrong question. It was the most wrong question he could have asked, based on the way Hinata’s face flamed, and the way Nagito did not like the sight at all. The sensation in his chest got a lot worse. Which. Did not make sense.

“Ahh,” He forced out. “So you do!”

“N-No I don’t—”

“Hmm, there is no need to lie, Hinata-kun,” Nagito mused, “I’m merely curious.”

“I just…” Hinata’s blush worsened. “Whatever.”

He wanted to know who it was. Nagito found out it was like an annoying itch he wasn’t able to properly scratch, like a craving he wouldn’t be able to satisfy without anyone’s help. It was crawling at his insides, which didn’t make sense, because he didn’t care what Hinata did nor who had the displeasure of being the object of his attention. Who had the most absolute displeasure of having his affection and his kiss and his looks and his touch and his delicate caresses was probably the most unlucky person Nagito would have to compete with. Maybe they were the Ultimate Unlucky student, what did he know. Maybe he could bond with them when it came to having the most absolute rotten luck. With the exception that they’d have Hinata by their side. Which Nagito did not envy, not at all.

But he still craved to know who it was. He wanted it more than he’d wanted anything else so far, which was surprising, because Nagito was a selfish piece of trash who wanted a lot of things he couldn’t have with even bigger intensity in his life. He blamed it all on his curiosity, which he’d been told could be extremely annoying in most cases. It was surely the reason why.

“My, my!” He chuckled, interlocking his fingers so they couldn’t twitch. “I want to guess now.”

“G-Guess—?”

“Hm, why not. It could be a lucky guess…” He hummed, “Let’s see… Ah, Hinata-kun surely spends a lot of time with Nanami-san…”

Hinata blinked. “What does that even mean—?”

“Nanami-san is quite calming,” He reasoned. “She would be the picture perfect girlfriend, don’t you think?”

“You—” Hinata grimaced. “You think I have a crush on Nanami—?!”

“It’s certainly a possibility.”

“It’s not that big of a possibility.” Hinata grumbled. “She’s just a friend. And not interested in me anyway.”

“The question was if you are in her, Hinata-kun.”

“I’m not.” He sighed. “You’re far off.”

“Hm, I see.” A pause. “What about Sonia-san?”

“Not a chance.”

“Koizumi-san?”

“Why would it be her?”

“It’s merely one of those you speak to the most.”

“W-Well, not really…”

“Mioda-san?”

“W-Why do you keep—” Hinata grimaced. “Why your classmates?”

“Well, they are the only ones we’re sharing knowledge of,” He said, lifting his shoulders. “Am I that far off?”

“U-Uh—” Hinata cleared his throat. “I… don’t know?”

“Hm, that’s such a hint…” He smiled, “Tsumiki-san?”

“Y-You..” Hinata hesitated, mumbled something Nagito couldn’t hear.

“Pardon?”

“You—” He turned his face away. “You should just stop assuming it’s a girl.”

Nagito blinked. Hinata looked embarrassed out of his mind, once again being way too honest. There was absolutely no motive for Hinata to trust him with such a piece of information.

And the weight in his chest was changing, but he wasn’t sure if for the better or the worse. It definitely was subsiding, just a tad. Not exactly enough.

“…I see.” He nodded. “Apologies for assuming.”

“Hmhm.” Hinata wasn’t looking at him. He cleared his throat once more. “A-Anyway— it’s not important.”

“Is it really that secretive?” Nagito inquired, trying to sound bored and not on the verge of tearing his own hair out. Was Hinata afraid he was going to make fun of him? Well, he probably was, or maybe he’d just feel bad for that poor victim. And then stalk their — his? — socials or anything that might give him a hint on what they’re like and have a breakdown about it for no apparent reason at all. Just so you know. Like any normal person would do. That was a very mundane reaction for a very mundane person.

“Is Hinata-kun scared I’m going to make fun of him?” He guessed, “Or could it be that you’re afraid I’d tell them?”

“If I told you, they’d know immediately.”

“You wound me, Hinata-kun.”

“Nah, it’s just the principal.” Hinata smiled a bit. “Like, automatic.”

He arched a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” Nagito felt his face heat up, just a bit. A normal amount when one was questioned that way about something like this. He was merely embarrassed, that was all. “Why would I. I was merely interested in telling that poor victim to go and save themselves.”

“Sure you were.”

“Whatever!” Came from behind them, Natsumi having her hands spread wide as if that could actually break the argument. “I was just looking for you, Fuyuhiko. I had to give you the textbook back.”

Kuzuryu snorted. “I don’t fucking use textbooks.”

“Peko does.” She rolled her eyes. “Take it, idiot.”

He accepted the bag she passed him anyway. She placed her hands on her hips, and called, “By the way, Hinata, the evening lecture.”

“The—” Hinata hurried to check his watch, gasped, “Shit! We’re late—!”

“No shit.”

“Come on.” He grabbed her wrist, ignoring the protests that followed. “Bye guys. Sorry. Bye.”

The two of them rushed back towards the reserve course building. Nagito followed him with his eyes until he disappeared around the corner.

The funny feeling was still heavy in his chest. It was getting more annoying by the minute.

“Night lecture?”

“Sometimes they get some of those.” Kuzuryu crossed his arms. “Poor bastards.”

“Poor indeed…” Nagito hummed. “Well, that was quite awkward.”

“You’re the one that planted shit into my head.”

“I sincerely apologize, Kuzuryu-kun.” He raised his hands. “I’d be more than happy if you would be willing to punch me as a punishment!”

“I’m not doing that.”

“I’m just saying, one right blow to the stomach might actually—”

He did punch him. In his arm, however, so it didn’t hurt just as much. A shame, really.

“Are you fucking done?” He snarled, “So annoying.”

“Ah. Apologies.”

“Stop fucking apologizing.”

Nagito shut his mouth tight before he could apologize for that, too.

“Hinata did look pretty flustered though.” He placed an hand on his hip. “I fucking swear, if he tries anything without telling me..”

“That was my fault as well.” Nagito chuckled, “I’m afraid embarrassing Hinata-kun is extremely easy.”

Kuzuryu gave him a look. He clicked his tongue, smiled a bit. “Guess he just likes you then.”

Nagito stayed still even if his classmate had started walking again. His heart was beating a little too fast once again.

“P-Pardon me?!”

“I’m joking, you fucking idiot! Catch up!”

He hurried to do just that.

The sensation in his chest was almost entirely gone. This illness was surely going to kill him some day.

5.

Nagito was tired.

For once, he wasn’t just tired of life itself, nor of waking up in the morning, nor having to listen to incessant chatter in hallways that never seemed to subside. He wasn’t tired of having to look in the mirror and take in each feature of himself he heavily disliked, he wasn’t tired of hearing his own voice over and over again.

No, Nagito was so tired of all these new feelings he wanted to scream.

Like, okay, fine, he was disgusting and a disgusting scum and he definitely deserved to feel uncomfortable, but seriously, this was getting old.

His illness wasn’t identified, but he wasn’t that much of an idiot, and did his research about it. His symptoms didn’t come often, but there were many explanation for it. Many diseases that concerned an accelerated heartbeat, or the raising in body temperature, or shakiness in limbs, or exaggerated sweat, and the list could go on. He found some that matched most descriptions, some that only contributed to one or two combined.

He spent quite a lot of time enclosed in his dorm, reading as much as he could. Perhaps it was his luck, but each book he drowned into seemed to tell him just the right amount of info, but never truly enough. He guessed that’s what happened when you believe too much in your capability of understanding your own issues. He was an arrogant, he knew that already.

But all he really hoped was that if he studied these symptoms correctly, perhaps he could do something about it. He could actually research a way to stop them and go back living a miserable short life that was going to end by something he’d already certified, please and thank you.

At the end of continuous study sessions, Nagito decided he had enough. He’d cornered a few, and decided he might have a mixture of all instead of merely one mixture of symptoms all together. He’d shut the books with a thump and dialed Tsumiki’s number right after.

He did feel bad for bothering such a prestigious and incredible and obviously really busy Ultimate with such nonsensities coming from thew likes of him, but on the other hand, self diagnosis could also be extremely offensive to her much more significant work and saying it clearly, Nagito wasn’t eager to be with these symptoms for the rest of his life. If he could get a remedy soon enough, then so be it.

Tsumiki, through a string of apologies and stutterings — she was so considerate! — offered him a visit in the Academy’s infirmary to hear him out on what he thought. She had assisted him in the past anyway, whenever his legs failed him or tried to embarrass him by having him collapse in the middle of class. How humiliating. He was the unluckiest guy ever.

Still, he showed up the the infirmary quite early and made sure to put on a bright smile when Tsumiki walked in, all shy and quick steps and stutters already coming from her mouth.

“U-Uhm—” She closed the door. “Good morning, K-Komaeda-san…”

“Good morning, Tsumiki-san!” He waved, “I apologize for bothering you with my nonsense once again.”

“D-Don’t say t-that…” She strode closer. “A-Are y-y-you okay—?”

“As of right now, I’m great.” He placed his hands on his lap, sitting on one of the beds. “However, do you recall all those symptoms I’ve been describing?”

“A-Ah, yes—” She nodded quickly, squeaked, “AAAH! I-I’m s-so so-so-rry, I should have r-realized earlier, I-I-I’m su-such a b-bad nurse—!”

“Oh, no, don’t you worry!” Nagito raised his hands. “It’s merely my fault for not explaining myself sooner!”

Tsumiki shifted her body weight from one foot to another.

“S-So…” She gulped. “What is it—?”

Nagito hummed, “Do you appear to have any tachycardic medicine?”

Tsumiki stared at him, her face paling.

“T-T-T-TACHYCARDIA?!” She squealed, covering her face, “K-K-K-Komaeda, I-I didn’t know you—”

“It’s alright!” He assured. “My heart is just been playing tricks on me lately, and I would merely love to get this whole thing over with.”

“…symptoms can get a little frustrating…” She mumbled, “I-It’s normal to want it gone… But it’s not really t-that simple…”

“Anything that would make them less frequent would be marvelous.” He cut short. “I’ve read there is pills?”

“U-Uhm..” She hesitated. Nagito wasn’t foolish enough to doubt the knowledge of an Ultimate, imagine if he did something so outrageous, but her timid nature was really starting to get on his nerves. He was a disgusting piece of trash who couldn’t even be patient with someone that was trying their best. He hoped this illness would kill him. “It’s… w-well, it’s kind of.. uh, do you have a prescription?”

Nagito blinked a few times.

“Pardon me?”

“D-Do you—” She let out a shaky exhale. “I-I’m so sorry, b-but I n-need to m-a-ake sure you have a prescription f-for it first.”

“Ah.” Nagito frowned. Of course he’d been foolish enough to forget such a thing. He really was so incompetent… “I see.”

Tsumiki muttered out more apologies. Nagito stared at her carefully, managing a small sigh and crossing his arms lightly.

“There is something I still don’t understand.” He mumbled, “Tsumiki-san, pardon me for my horrendous explanation, but I hold a really high opinion of you. I thought you’d be more than able to determinate my illness yourself…”

She faltered, “B-But— t-this is a v-very different matter—”

“Or perhaps I merely overestimated your capabilities…” He sighed out, “Man, what rotten luck. Just like someone like me to make a fool out of myself in such a serious situation like this, making such a prestigious Ultimate seem like an incompetent… ah, I wish I could die from self loathing…”

Tsumiki let out a squeal, tearing at her hair.

“K-Komaeda-san, p-please stop…” She shut her eyes tightly, tears already gathered at the corners. “I-I’ll try to run some tests r-right now, o-okay—?”

He lit up, clasping his hands together. “Thank you ever so much, Tsumiki-san! Your kindness is completely wasted on a piece of scum like me!”

Tsumiki wobbled her way towards one of the monitors that were held in the corners of the room. Nagito smiled between himself, and made himself comfortable on the bed.

It's not like he liked hospitals all that much, nor infirmaries for that matter. He had a lot of experience with it, and the less he did, the better with his little remaining sanity he felt. He knew how to stay still when she lifted his shirt, her hands steady for once, how to lean back and not flinch when she applied cream on his chest, when she attached the monitor to his skin.

Tsumiki, ever so shy and soft spoken, had a serene smile on her face as she worked, dare he say calm and collected, like she was just in her place. He guessed she was in some way; an Ultimate nurse could only feel at best when she was doing what she was made for. Her hands and fingers moved automatically, robotically even, each step perfectly memorized to work in its best efficiency To be touched by such expert hands… ah. He was so lucky.

“Hmm…” Tsumiki hummed, “Komaeda-san, i-is it okay if I ask you a question..?”

“You can ask me whatever you wish for, Tsumiki-san!” He tittered, “I can only put in my best effort to answer in the best way I can come up with!”

“W-Well…” She pursed her lips. “Have you actually… uhm, had a visit like this, before—? Has a doctor t-told you there i-is a chance for t-tachycardia—?”

Nagito tilted his head.

“I must admit I have a lot of medical check ups,” He hummed, “But, no, not really. No doctor has ever given me the displeasure of a diagnosis.”

Not another one, he didn’t add. Merely because that would inquire a conversation and having to tell her all about the other issues he had, and he was lacking of the necessary will to do that so far. Plus, he was already bothering her so much, he couldn’t possibly add to the baggage further like this.

She frowned. “A-As I’ve thought… I’ll be removing this, uhm, one moment please…”

She took the stickers away from his chest, passing him a tissue to wipe the cream away. While he did so, she placed the monitor back in the corner of the room where she’d found it.

“Komaeda-san…” She mumbled once he’d lowered his shirt once more, playing with her fingers. “There’s no hint of tachycardia.”

He stared at her for a few seconds. Maybe she’d hit her head.

“Excuse me?”

“T-T-T-There’s—”She squeaked. “I-I’m sorry, b-but you do not have tachycardia…”

Ah.

Nagito wanted to scream.

“Pardon me,” He said, “Can’t I just take the medicine anyway?”

“A-Absolutely not—!” She exclaimed. “T-That’d be s-suicidal! Y-Your heart c-could f-fail—!”

“How unfortunate.” He sighed out. “Is there any other medicine to decrease heart rate?”

“W-Why…” She pouted, “W-W-Why would you w-want t-that so b-badly a-a-any-w-way—?”

“You’re aware of what’s been going on with me as of lately…” Nagito crossed his arms, looking at the ground and slowly shaking his head. “Pardon me, Tsumiki-san, my medical knowledge isn’t nearly as rich as yours. I must have offended you with my poor research, I’m so ashamed…”

Tsumiki bit the inside of her cheek, looking like she was thinking really hard. She tumbled over, stopping right by the edge of the bed, directly in front to him. She fidgeted, her lips pressed tightly together.

“I-I can try to give you my own diagnosis, i-if you want…” She tried to smile. “Could you please tell me your symptoms again…?”

Nagito gave her a look. He had myriads of symptoms, really, but none of them ever matched up to one description. He could swear he’d looked everywhere. Anywhere he could search up, there was no illness that matched up everything he’d been feeling so far.

Then again, Tsumiki was an Ultimate, so she probably knew more than Nagito ever would. She was better than any book he could have borrowed from the Academy’s library, better than manuals he bought from town. Her knowledge was far superior than a anything a slow, dumb, lowly bug like him could ever master or hope to get close to. That was the entire reason why he’d bent here in the first place, after all.

So he hummed, tapping his chin a few times, keeping his eyes focused on the tiles of the infirmary floor. “As I’ve said, my heart palpitations tend to speed up the most. It gets so bad I need to clutch my chest in pain. Then my body heats up, and most of said heat rushes to my face. My palms tend to get a little sweaty too. That’s because of the heat, right?”

“I-It could be…”

“I thought so.” He smiled. “Other than that… Ah, I get an increasingly annoying brain fog. I can’t exactly master my train of thought like I was capable of before anymore, and as a consequence words don’t seem to work that perfectly and I can’t manage many straight sentences. It becomes really frustrating, you see.”

“Hmhm…”

“I get a little twitchy, and there’s tingles all over my body as well…” He pondered. “Ah, and my organs seem to twist all over themselves. Like they’re continuously swapping places with each other.”

“Is…” She paused. “I-Is the sensation mainly i-in your s-stomach, p-perhaps—?”

“Oh, yes, sometimes.” He nodded. “Mostly, yes. It makes me think I’m about to puke. That would be pretty gross!”

Tsumiki hummed, closing her eyes for a second. She adjusted her hands on her skirt, opening them back once more.

“Komaeda-san,” She begun, voice still a little small, but steadier. “Are there, uhm, are there specific moments where this happens?”

“They aren’t frequent, that is…” He shrugged. “That’s why I can’t predict them. I’ve still failed to understand their pattern most times.”

“D-Do they…” Tsumiki mumbled, “Do they often happen w-when you’re around someone else—?”

He frowned. Now that he thought about it, they kind of did. They did often happen whenever he was in the presence of his classmates, which was what made it even more humiliating for that matter. It was rare that they came when he was alone, mostly in his bedroom by himself, but they were quicker to subside and harder to identify the reason for it.

“Sometimes, yes.” He reasoned. “Are they perhaps anxiety induced?”

“Uhm…” Tsumiki frowned. “A-Actually…”

“It would make sense, maybe…” He mused, “I am quite terrible when it comes to social interactions. Maybe my pathetic excuse of a body is failing me by trying to kill me instead of actually make an effort to socialize. That would be something that could happen to me indeed!”

“N-No, not that!” She squealed, “You’re d-d-definitely not d-dying!”

“Ah. Unfortunate.”

“D-D-D-Don’t s-say t-t-that!” Tsumiki shook her head quickly. “K-Komaeda-san…” She muttered, offering a small smile. "D-Do you ever believe the feeling to be, uhm, you could say… p-pleasing?”

Nagito stared at her. Maybe he’d heard that wrong.

“Pleasing…?”

She merely nodded. Hm. Odd.

“Doesn’t the warmth in your chest feel nice sometimes?” She touched her own, with both of her hands. “Doesn’t it feel… quite beautiful, when you get butterflies?”

“…Butterflies?” He frowned. “I’ve never seen an alive butterfly in my life time.”

“I-In your stomach, silly…” She said, “That’s what you call the twisting in your organs…”

She touched her own face, which had blushed significantly. “T-This feeling… is actually such a wonderful thing…”

He took it back. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to come to her. He forgot Tsumiki could get… like this, when she was distracted. He would find it amusing, if he were able to understand anything at all.

“I… don’t believe I understand.” He concluded. “I came here because I’m sick, Tsumiki-san. Feeling sick is certainly not good at all.”

She placed her hands in front of her middle. She was still smiling.

“P-Perchance…” She started, studying him carefully. “D-Do most of your symptoms happen… when Hinata-san is around…?”

Hinata.

Nagito did not want to hear his name. He did not want to automatically picture his green eyes and dumb smile and nest of spiky brown hair that had the strangest shape he’d ever seen in anyone’s hair, nor think about his tanned skin and his muscular arms and his annoyingly bright laughter that seemed to make the heating in his body get worse. The tingles spread all over his body, which did not feel good, thank you very much, Tsumiki was wrong, He did not enjoy the way his heart stuttered at the mere mention of the person he deterred, he didn’t like having to bring his fingertips over his chest to feel the fast thumping.

If he had to be honest, they did happen a lot around him. He’d been thinking Hinata was trying to poison him, or hypnotize him, or maybe he was using sound waves to confuse him. Maybe Hinata was the sick one and he passed him what he’d been feeling. It wasn’t pleasant at all, and he wondered if throwing him in a river after hitting him with a metal bat would be against the Academy’s rules. It probably was, given the rotten luck that awaited him. He just could not win, could he not?

He cleared his throat. There came the brain fog. His face felt hot.

“H-Hinata-kun, you say—?” He managed a smile, which was not shaky, thank you. “I must admit they do, yes. Is it his fault?”

“A bit, maybe…” Tsumiki was still smiling, which was weird. Maybe she hated him and couldn’t wait for him to die. Yes, that was probably it! He couldn’t believe he had been stupid enough not to recognize this earlier! He really was a useless human being.

“K-Komaeda-san…” She said, “I-I think I’ve come up with a d-diagnosis for you.”

His face lit up. “Just as expected of the Ultimate Nurse, Tsumiki-san!” He clasped his hands together. “Do tell me, please! How am I going to die?”

“Y-You’re n-not—”

“Ah, so it’s not terminal?” He tilted his head. “That’s disappointing, but oh well! I’ll accept my fate anyway. A little of suffering never hurt anyone, yes?”

“Komaeda-san—” She shook her head. Took a deep breath. “I diagnose you… with a crush.”

He paused. Clasped his mouth shut.

“Is…” He frowned. “Is that an acronym?”

“N-No!” She pouted. “I-I meant — a crush. Love.”

He kept staring. His smile fell completely.

“Pardon me?”

“A-A crush — on Hinata-san, maybe?” Her smile was a little hesitant, but he could swear she looked a little amused. “A-All these things y-you’ve been f-feeling — y-you just… fell in love..”

Nagito blinked again. Once more. Another time. Maybe he had hearing issues. Hallucinations. Maybe he was having the worst nightmare of his life. He looked at his hand, but he still had five fingers, and all of their sizes matched up. He couldn’t make anything appear out of nowhere. He didn’t feel the same kind of daze he had when he was in a dream. So, no, he was definitely awake.

He tapped his ear a few times. Snapped his fingers next to it. No, he could hear that perfectly. He wasn’t sure about the hallucinations, he’d never truly had those before, but he couldn’t really dismiss the possibility, maybe. He wouldn’t want to doubt Tsumiki, obviously, maybe he was still in his dorm and heavily hallucinating this whole conversation.

He touched the bed beneath him. The material was solid. He could feel the metal bars beneath it. His dorm bed did not have metal bars.

Okay. Wonderful. Not an hallucination either. Perhaps Tsumiki was tired, and didn’t know what she was talking about. Nagito would never dare doubt the judgment of such a wonderful Ultimate like her, after all! Trash like him had no right to do something like that in the slightest.

He cleared his throat once more. It felt strangely clogged up. Odd. Maybe that was part of the illness he totally had because he was not one for feelings, and he was not the kind to get a crush on someone. Especially not someone like Hinata.

“Pardon me, Tsumiki-san…” He said, raising his hands. “But you’ve got it all wrong. Perhaps a lowly piece of scum like me could never understand your reasoning behind complex medical process, but you must understand that for how completely unlovable I am, I am also undoubtedly self aware enough to know it would be foolish to develop feelings for anyone, much less for someone as insignificant as Hinata-kun.”

Tsumiki shook her head, still smiling gently. “Love isn’t something you control, Komaeda-san… I-It just happens…”

She placed her hands back on her face, blushing once more, giggling to herself. “W-When I’m with Mioda-san… M-My heart beats so fast…”

Accelerated heartbeat.

“M-My palms get a little sweaty, because I-I get so n-nervous…”

Sudoration. High anxiety levels.

“I-I get butterflies all over my stomach…”

Organs feeling like they did backflips in their cavity.

“A-And when she looks at me… ahhh, I can’t think properly…!”

Brain fog. Shortness of words.

“I-I’m in love with her…” She sighed out, looking blissed out, “A-And it’s such a beautiful feeling…”

Love. Such a childish and impossible concept for someone like him.

Him. Komaeda Nagito. In love with Hinata Hajime. No, that wasn’t something that happened.

The definition matched all symptoms, but that couldn’t be it. It wasn’t like that. He just got a little nervous when he was with him. And Hinata — well, he might have been objectively good looking, with a body Nagito would have appreciated much more if it didn’t belong to a disgusting reserve course leech like him, with bright green olive eyes that were, uh, a nice match with the tone of his skin and the dark colour of his hair, and the shape of his hands or the thickness of his fingers could be appreciated, he could guess, from an objective point of view. Hinata was — well, he was handsome, but like, based on society standards, he merely had a good looking face. His personality ruined it.

…Or, not really, he was an extremely kind and caring person, the kind of guy that mindless his business unless someone needed him, and Nagito could swear he got in trouble with security more than once because he’d wanted to stand up for a person he cared for, a friend perhaps, and he got beat up pretty badly, but insisted it didn’t matter as long as they were safe and sound. He was the kind of guy that battled for justice, whose hope was foolish and delusional but persistent, without ever giving up on the things he wanted, giving all of himself to become more. His arrogacy when it came to the persistency of wanting to scratch the role of stepladder that should objectively belong to him due his status was irritating, but… admirable, maybe. Subjectively. Anyone could have their own opinion of it. Nagito thought he loathed it, but —

He guessed it was nice to see an hope this bright. Nothing turned it down. Hinata knew what he wanted and he’d do anything to get it, even if he was not supposed to. A small dog could never become big, yet Hinata ignored the rule and tried his best to become bigger. He should not be doing that. He should not be thinking like that, it was unhealthy for him and offensive for those that actually had a talent and were made for this. And yet it’d become some sort of… admirable? The ability of never giving up was just uncommon, and finding it was… uhm.

And he could guess his bravery didn’t hurt either. Neither did his altruism. He’d often wondered what Hinata would be like in different situations. What’d be like to be in his arms. To see that smile curl with gentleness in his direction and his only, to reserve him an expression full of genuine care. Nobody would ever bother to look at him like that. Nagito didn’t want to die alone, even if it was inevitable, and perhaps the thought of someone indeed looking at him this way was… slightly appealing, maybe. Not that he actually thought he’d get it.

And the sensation, the warmth he was feeling, it was… hm. It was sort of nice. Sometimes. Most times it was just irritating. But when he couldn’t stop thinking about Hinata, when his face was the only thing Nagito could picture in the dark tones of his dorm, he felt — not entirely bad? He’d always reasoned it were because of his high dislike for that boy, because he knew he was superior to him and thinking about all those qualities would actually lift his own spirits. Which were lifted, yes, but only when he thought about his smile. A beautiful smile, always objectively speaking, his teeth were white and quite straight, his face looking a little brighter when his pink, soft looking lips curled upwards, when his cheekbones pushed towards his eyes and it made him look so —

…

Oh.

Maybe he did have a crush on Hinata.

Nagito felt his heart sink. Doubts were starting to creep over. What if he, indeed, did have a crush on him. Hypothetically. Ah. It wasn’t like that destroyed everything he believed in. Like his worldview had been completely turned upside down. Ah. Haha. How pathetic would that be.

Nagito stared into nothing. He thought about it, really pondered it for a second. If Hinata were to be really his lover, the picture did not look entirely that bad. He didn’t feel disgusted while thinking of his arms pulled tight around himself. He didn’t feel outraged at the thought of hearing his bright laughter, sounding like a melody coming from the finest bells. He didn’t feel repulsed at the thought of soft lips touching his skin.

Yeah. Okay. He blinked a few times.

He did have a crush on Hinata.

Death would have been a more peaceful fate.

“Komaeda-san—?” Tsumiki was waving an hand in front of his face. Huh. He wondered for how long she’d been doing that. “Komaeda-san?! O-Oh, I’ve b-broken him—”

He raised his eyes. He didn’t know what expression he had, but she winced, covered her face with her arms.

“WAAA! I-I-I’m s-so so-orry—!”

Nagito stared at her. Odd, he could barely hear her string of apologies. Everything was a little blurry, actually, was that a thing? Was the room spinning before too?

Nagito slowly stood up. His legs were shaking, another odd thing, he was sitting down just then, there was no way he was this weak he couldn’t even handle walking after ten minutes at best sat down somewhere. He really was the worst.

“Pardon me, Tsumiki-san.” He smiled. “I’m not feeling at my greatest as of right now. Would you mind telling Miss Yukizome I’ll be staying in my dorm today?”

“A-Are—” She hesitated, “A-A-Are you s-sure—?”

“Certainly!” He rushed to the exit. The sooner he got out of there, the better. “See you, Tsumiki-san!”

He shut the door close just as she was calling his name. She probably winced at the noise, poor thing.

Nagito merely focused on putting one thing in front of the other. His heart was still pounding heavily against his ribcage, and he clutched it tightly in his grip.

Accelerated heartbeat, sudoration, heated skin, dizziness, difficulty in concentration.

All those symptoms, known for the illness called one learns to call love.

Ah. How despairful.

6.

So, there is apparently a thing where if you realize and accept your feelings for someone, they tend to heighten in their intensity. Cool. Really cool. Nagito absolutely adored not being able to utter a coherent sentence if Hinata was in the same room as him, totally. Yeah, he wasn’t having daily mental breakdowns about it, no sir, nothing to worry about.

Nagito was an horrid piece of trash, the lowest of the losers, but he’d at the very least prided himself in thinking he had the mere capability of high critical thinking. He’d dared to hope he was at least in possession of a supposedly high intellect, almost enough to recognize each situation as it was and solving problems in the most direct way there was.

But no, Hinata just had to be in half the spots Nagito was at and he had to laugh that beautiful laugh and argue with his friends and make his presence known just so Nagito’s head would be an entire mess by the time he walked back out. Why was he at every single hang out, he couldn’t take this any longer.

Nagito had thought he was crazy already, but this was really testing his limits.

The logical thing he’d decided to put in act, once he’d retrieved to his dorm and almost teared all of his hair out, would be to ignore Hinata and avoid any talk and sight of him until all of those feelings were completely gone. A hard task, because the more he dwelled on it the more he’d understood this boy matched every requirement that made a boy his type,e but he hoped it’d be possible. Hope always won in the end, after all.

But of course, not every genius solution managed to get put in act completely smoothly, without consequences. Because Hinata, stupid, delusional, wonderful Hinata, kept approaching him out of absolutely nowhere.

He was all ‘oh, hi Komaeda, didn’t see you there’ and ‘Komaeda, hello, have you ever heard of this brand of clothes? I think it’d suit you’ or ‘Ah, Komaeda, I needed to go watch a movie with Soda but he bailed, haha, unlucky right? Come with me’ and refused to leave him alone until Nagito had to think — hard task — or a clear excuse to run away. No, they didn’t spend any time together, not enough to actually make it count, but merely talking to him made his head spin so hard he had to grip something in order not to fall.

Was this what love truly was? The feeling that had been hyped up by centuries, what everyone craved and enjoyed? The feeling a child desires since they’ve first heard of it? Was it really like that? Because he couldn’t see the appeal at all. If anything, it made him want to jump off a high building. It did not feel nice, because it was too good.

Nagito wasn’t made for this. He wasn’t made for love and be loved, he wasn’t the kind of person others wanted around, imagine love him like that. He was disgusting, his looks were downright repulsive and his personality was nothing to enjoy, he came off too strong most times, and he ruined everything he touched. With some time, his luck was going to get Hinata killed. A car could crash onto him, the ceiling could fall down, the shower could suddenly only drip out gasoline and he could trip on a match or something, his life would be constant risk and this newfound feeling made Nagito actually upset at the thought of Hinata dying. Which was really a first. It wouldn’t be a hopeful death at all, and that on itself was scary.

There was no way Hinata loved him back, at least, but Nagito wasn’t ready for the wave of hurt that washed over him at the logical reasoning. He thought it’d be easier to let go of these feelings if he merely accepted that, instead he’d felt like he was experiencing the greatest despair of his life. And he’d been through a lot.

Imagining Hinata’s face cringing and his voice muttering out the words “Hi, sorry, I get it but you’re disgusting, get out of my sight” did not sound logical, instead feeling incredulously devastating. That didn’t make sense. Nagito knew those things already. He didn’t understand why he bothered to be hurt about it, if he was already aware of how his ending would be.

So, for this reason, confessing and getting his feelings out and forgetting about them after handling an awkward rejection was not an option. He’d considered it, albeit really briefly the mere moment he and Hinata were away from prying ears, but each time he’d opened his mouth it’d felt like his tongue had frozen up. He couldn’t bother to form a coherent sentence, and so he’d stayed silent. He was nervous. Anxious, shy, utterly terrified of an answer. Pathetic, he was so pathetic.

Hence why avoidance was the best option. Wait until the sensation disappeared and he could go back to the picture perfect teasing and insults and immature bickering that had characterized them since their earliest day of acquittance. If Hinata let him, that was. Which Nagito should have suspected would not be the case.

He did expect him to come by, when Nanami invited them all to their place. Hope’s Peak Academy had dormitories where they were required to be, but leaving for the weekend wasn’t frowned upon. Nanami had told them her parents were out, and gave her permission to organize a game night with her classmates, with all the positive things she’d told them about them all. And, well, of course Nagito had tried to decline. Duh. Apart from not wanting to ruin such a joyous atmosphere, Nagito also knew Hinata would be there, because he was everywhere, and Nanami adored him, so he was bound to come every. Single. Time.

He’d faked being sick, but Kuzuryu had threatened to drag him out of the dorm under Mioda’s insistence, and he would never want him to do something this stupid for someone like him, so Nagito was just compelled to accept.

Mioda had insisted they went together, perhaps to make sure he didn’t bail last minute. She skipped in her steps as they both walked there, as it wasn’t all that far away, telling him everything about the new song she was planning to write.

“It’s gonna be sooooo cool!” She grinned. “Ibuki can’t wait to show you, Nagito-chan! You gotta be, like, my beta listener or something!”

To be given such an honor, what did Nagito ever do to deserve it? He smiled, “It will be my most absolute pleasure, Mioda-san. I’m sure it is wonderful already.”

“Meh, the process phase is always a little awkward.” She shrugged. “But it is worth it, yannow? You can’t vision the whole product without the process!”

“I’m sure.”

“Which reminds me! There’s this melody that goes like—”

She jammed invisible notes in the air. Nagito followed as best as he could.

They arrived in front of the designed place in a minute more. Nagito was already lucky Mioda was treating him so well, he should really have expected it when it was Hinata who answered the door.

And he could swear his eyes lit up. He could swear his smile got a little warmer.

“Hey,” He smiled. It made Nagito dizzy. It made him want to run, if his legs worked. “You’re here.”

“Hajime-chan!” Mioda squeezed him in a hug. He jumped, but reciprocated with an awkward pat on her back. She pulled away, “Didn’t know you were so early!”

“Nanami asked me for some help setting up.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Kuzuryu and Pekoyama are here already anyway. Soda is on his way for what I know. Ah, and, Tsumiki arrived like, five minutes ago to—”

“Miki-chan!” Mioda squealed, shoving past Hinata to enter the house. The latter blinked, glanced backwards.

“…Huh.” He cleared his throat, laughing softly. Tsumiki told him the feeling in his stomach would be considered to be butterflies, but was that seriously it? It felt more like insects crawling all over the place, completely unwanted. Did he really have to laugh like that?

Hinata blinked, as if he’d just realized Nagito was still outside. He coughed a few times, moved aside. “Come in.”

“Thank you.” Nagito managed, somehow. He made his way inside, feeling his eyes burn their way through his back.

Nanami’s place was not the biggest, but he could guessed it was easily defined as cozy. Better than his own house, that was for sure, everything in there just reminded him of her, which was always a positive thing.

Nanami was the most hopeful person Nagito had ever met, after all. She was everything, the callant that held this class together. He was grateful for all of her hard work, every day.

She was waiting upstairs for them all, her room a bright mixture of pink and purple shades. They’d waited for everyone else to arrive, and then she turned on her console.

Nagito wasn’t the best when it came to video games unless they spoke about luck based ones. He didn’t have nearly any of the skills required to play such things, he could never dream to even get close to the same level of greatness Nanami displayed when it came to them, her concentration and observation skills truly marvelous to even just observe from afar.

It served as a good distraction foremost, more than enough — kinda — to forget the fact that Hinata was still in the same room as him. If he focused completely on Nanami’s movements over the controller, beating classmate after classmates, while he gushed and complimented every single thing he did, he could almost completely drown out the sound of Hinata arguing with Soda right behind him, sometimes jumping from his seat, sometimes hitting him without heat.

Nagito refused to look at him. If he did who knew what utterly embarrassing expression he would make, and he was already far too humiliated enough as he already was. Getting feelings for him was already embarrassing per se, imagine being caught staring. No thank you. He wasn’t all that eager.

Nanami still forced him to play a couple matches — some won due pure luck, some lost due a personal lack of skill — as she insisted everyone had to play with all of them, in rotation. Nagito sat next to her the whole time, and sometimes she’d lean against him, almost casually, like it was a normal thing between them. Fairly said, Nanami leaned against almost anyone when she played, her sleepiness almost always having the better hand, but it still made him feel somewhat proud. Someone like him, so disgusting and repulsive, being trusted enough by someone so magnificent? He was so lucky!

Luck does not last that long.

Nanami looked behind her. “Hinata, come here.”

Nagito snapped his head to look at the controller. A very nice controller. Maybe. He wasn’t an expert on it. He liked how she’d personalized them. Still the same soft and bright colours that melted in shades of pink. Wonderful, really. He did not care about anything else, nope, not at all.

“Uh, sure.” Hinata sat next to her. Away from him, thank everything that dared to listen. “Who am I against?”

“Komaeda and I.”

Wonderful, absolutely marvelous, incredible, fantastic. He was sure there were more adjectives existing. He should ask Nanami, but he had a sudden repulsion for the thought of turning his head towards the left. What a shame.

“Nice.” Hinata chuckled. “Are you trying to humble me?”

“Maybe.” Nanami smiled. “Komaeda.”

He snapped his head up.

“Hm?”

“Eyes on the screen.”

Nagito forced on a shaky smile. “Ah. Yes, of course. My apologies.”

It was ridiculous, the way Hinata’s character was enough to make him lose focus. Nanami beat both of them easily, but Nagito wasn’t able to give all of himself. He was too busy imagining the way Hinata’s fingers flew all over the controller. He wanted to be a controller. He should research if that was possible or not. He should focus on the game, actually.

It wasn’t a surprise he lost immediately.

He watched Hinata and Nanami sparrow for a few seconds more until she — inevitably — beat him as well. Hinata let out a laugh, carefree, a blessing for sore ears. Nagito felt himself shiver.

He felt a nudge on his arm. Nanami was pouting, her cheeks puffed in protest.

He blinked. “What..?”

“You were holding back.” She poked him with her controller. “I want a rematch.”

“W-Was I now—?” He held up his hands. “I can assure you I merely gave my best, Nanami-san! I’m just not skilled enough to—”

“You’re usually better than that.” She insisted. “Rematch.”

Who was he to say no to her, really.

“Do I have to keep playing too…?” Hinata asked. Nagito wanted to seal his lips shut. With his mouth. That wouldn’t be ideal. “Or can I pass the controller?”

Nanami tapped her chin. She hummed, “Give it to Owari.”

“Hell yeah!” Owari called, snatching the controller form Hinata’s grip. “Finally!”

Nagito breathed a small sigh of relief. It didn’t last very long, because Hinata thought it’d be a wonderful idea to walk over and sit right next to Nagito’s frame, who was already on the edge on his own. He did not need him, thank you very much. Nagito was very much capable of being miserable without anyone’s help.

“Want some help?” He had the audacity to ask, smiling that smile and Nagito wanted to punch him really really much.

Nagito arched a brow, instead of combusting, which was a lot. “Pardon me?”

“If you need tips.” He shrugged. “Nanami and I play this all the time. It’s not that hard.”

He gave him a look. “What makes you believe I need your help?”

Seriously, he was doing well. Getting this many coherent sentences out in one setting? He was so winning over his stupid feelings. Hah. Take that.

Hinata gave him a nudge with his shoulder. “Can’t I help out a friend?”

Nagito then felt like he’d been just set on fire. He couldn’t do anything else other than stare at Hinata like he’d grown six heads. The imagery was really bad for his already weak heart, actually, so he shook that away rather quickly.

Friends. When, in the world, would he and Hinata ever have gotten along enough to be considered friends?Why would Hinata out of all people consider him to be a friend, why did that make him feel so warm?

Nagito snapped his attention back on the controller. His face was burning.

A friend.

He grimaced.

“Do what you wish.”

The match went on. Hinata gave him little pieces of advice here and there, with big protest coming from Owari, merely pointing at the buttons so Nagito could press them better. He could say they were working, and he’d almost come second place when Hinata thought of the very bright initiative to place his palm on top. Nagito became really aware of it all of the sudden.

Hinata’s skin was even warmer when he was feeling it outside of his clothes. His hand covered his easily, tanned skin unmatched with his own paler tone, his fingers burning hot against a colder temperature, soft and gentle when they guided his fingertips over the buttons of the controller he was barely holding anymore. Hinata had taken off his jacket, so his arm was fully visible, and he could perfectly see the line of muscle that followed towards his bicep, which he didn’t dare turn towards to for the life of him, or he was surely going to regret it. It still pressed against his shoulder, however, and he wanted to reach out and cup it so very badly. He could drool at the mere thought of it.

The controller slipped from his hands. Owari beat him.

“OHHH YES!” She triumphed, “Take that!”

Hinata gave him a confused glance. Nagito focused onto he ground, coughed twice.

“P-Pardon me, Nanami-san—” He laughed, a little strained. “I really need to get some fresh air.”

She frowned. “It’s really cold outside. Are you sure you—”

“Fairly!” He stood up. “If you’ll excuse me..”

He skimmed his way out of the room.

He could only picture him in his head, smiling and laughing and whispering commands in his ear, which he only knew because Nanami taught him, he wasn’t skilled, he was not talented, Hinata had no talent and he still believed he was better, and oh was he expert, was he capable, was he everything Nagito craved so desperately he could crawl at his own skin and beg for more.

He made it downstairs without tripping nor face planting, which he was really happy about, believe him.

“Komaeda—?”

Until he was not.

Why. Seriously, why, why was he being this stubborn, why did he have to follow him everywhere, why couldn’t he just leave him alone. Nagito had made it to the door. His hand was around the handle. He was just about to escape, could he please let him escape, just once.

He turned around, feeling his eye twitch. “Yes, Hinata-kun?”

“S-Sorry, uh…” Hinata’s face got slightly red. Nagito was… observing it. Really carefully. Maybe he wouldn’t have minded to reach out and lick a stripe up his cheek. Like, you know, a normal person with a crush he didn’t want. “I don’t wanna invade your space or anything.”

You already are. “I wouldn’t dream of accusing you of something like that.”

Hinata smiled a bit. “I just… I wanted to ask you if you wanted to take a walk anyway, so uhm… Can I come with?”

Nagito frowned. Stared at him carefully.

“A walk?”

“Yep.”

“With me?”

“With who else?”

“It’s freezing outside.” Nagito said, “And you want to take a walk?”

Hinata raised a brow. “You wanted to get some air.”

Touché, bane of my existence. Touché.

Nagito took a deep breath. The sane thing to do would be to tell him to piss off and leave him alone, run out of the house and never face anyone again. Maybe change his name and move countries, to actually make sure he never faced Hinata ever again. That would probably be the safest option.

Yet he made the mistake of meeting the loveliest pair of olive eyes he’d ever had the displeasure to know, which were mirroring the expression of bliss and hope and subtle desire that seemed so genuine, Nagito felt himself deflate completely.

How could he ever say no to him.

Was this what it felt like, to be completely devoted to someone else? Was this what being willing to do everything to see your beloved smile was like? Nagito really could not decide his thoughts on it.

So he cleared his throat, managed a smile. “Of course, Hinata-kun. Let’s go outside.”

He could swear Hinata rushed to put a coat on, skipping in his steps to follow him outside.

The evening air was indeed cold. He felt himself shiver, just a bit, the second he stepped outside, hoping it were subtle.

They merely walked laps around the area that surrounded Nanami’s place. Hinata wasn’t talking, but Nagito caught the movement of his fingers, playing with themselves in a nervous tick. He guessed his company merely wasn’t the most pleasing, even if it’d been Hinata himself to ask him to walk together. Perhaps he had something to say.

His mind immediately raced, and not with the only possible “stay away from me” conversation that was already overdue. He dared picture a frustrated Hinata that wanted to confess he liked him back. How delusional of him. Love really does make you stupid.

Regardless, curiosity always ends up killing the cat. And so he let out a hum, closed his eyes.

“What is it?”

“H-Huh—?”

“You’ve been fidgeting hard for a while now.” He gave him a look. “What is it?”

Hinata gulped, Nagito did not focus on the way the Adam's apple bobbed. Absolutely not.

“I-I uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I uhm… need to ask you something..?”

Nagito blinked a few times. This could go really bad, or really good. Best situation, Hinata whipped out a knife and killed him. He doubted it was that, but he could still dream about it, perhaps.

Truly, he wasn’t certain how he was keeping this calm. Hinata’s presence was enough for him to forget all about the cold, to make up an elevated number of excuses to snuggle close to him and claim he needed more warmth than he already gave him. Maybe it was a stroke of luck. He was really grateful for it, truly, but he knew it was a matter of time until it ran out. He’d been swirling in a continuous cycle of it for days, after all.

He plastered a smile. “What is it?”

They’d stopped walking now. Hinata wasn’t really good at hiding his emotions, really, and to put it mildly, he looked like he was on the verge of throwing up.

“S-So, uhm—” He stuttered, “Let’s start from saying I-I didn’t want to do this.”

Nagito blinked once more. Hinata cringed.

“N-Not like that—!” He raised his hands, face flushed. He was being unbearably adorable, in reality, and Nagito wanted to pull at his face really badly. Was he doing this on purpose? He could strangle him. “I-I just meant — it’s taking a lot of courage, okay—?”

Hinata took a deep breath. Nagito didn’t know what to think, truly. He was trying hard not to judge before listening to the whole thing.

And then Hinata stepped closer. He touched his fingertips, and Nagito’s mask of calmness fell completely.

His heart beat. His skin heated. His head felt dizzy.

He loved him. Oh, how he wished he did not, that the mere touch of his fingers wasn’t enough to make him lose consciousness immediately, with no effort at all. How he wished he could show him just how badly he loathed feeling this much.

Hinata was blushing a bit, too. He was coming closer.

“K-Komaeda—” He choked on his words. “I-I know we didn’t, uhm, have the best start…”

“Not at all.” He let out, a little strained. “Mostly my fault. As usual.”

Hinata smiled. He was. Really handsome, when he did that. Ah. Nagito really was going to die.

“It’s just…” He shrugged. “I feel like… we work, y’know?”

“Do—” He swallowed. “D-Do we now—?”

Hinata just nodded. Came a little closer.

“Komaeda,” He murmured, “It took me a lot to master the courage to even just ask you to come outside. Soda had to push me a lot for it. A-And Nanami too, I guess… I-I mean, uh, they are the only ones that know, I guess, even if I’m afraid it’s gotten a little obvious, but uh—”

Nagito frowned. “Know… what, exactly?”

“I’m getting there.” Hinata shut his eyes close, tightly. “Komaeda, what I’m trying to say is — uh, I like it. When we spend time together.”

It was a little hard to think when his fingers were still stroking his skin carefully. There wasn’t a lot of wind, so the reason why Nagito shivered had very little to do with the cold atmosphere.

“I, uhm—” He paused. “Like it too?”

Great. Really smooth, seriously. He must be the Ultimate public speech maker.

Hinata’s smile was slowly getting more confident. Good for him, really, because Nagito only felt confused at most. Terribly confused.

“I know you’ve been avoiding me.” Hinata said. Nagito flushed red.

“I-I haven’t—” He tried, his throat closing. “That wasn’t… uh.”

“I was losing my mind trying to figure out why, you know?” He tilted his head, “You always drive me fucking crazy, Komaeda.”

Hinata seemed to get bolder. His hands fully cupped Nagito’s now, thumbs gently stroking gentle circles in the skin. Nagito stared at the gesture like it were a cadaver.

“Then I kinda thought about it.” He shrugged. “A-And I needed some encouragement, that was. But uh…” He hesitated. Slowly looked up. “I kinda got you might feel the same…?”

Nagito felt a lot at that moment. He had the urge to run away. Chase traffic and let a car hit him. Run back to Nanami’s room and refuse to abandon her until Hinata left. Throw his arms around Hinata and push their bodies close. Kiss him and then slap him.

Because one, he’d been so obvious Hinata figured it out on his own. Two, he’d said the same.

The same the same the same the same the same.

He didn’t know what to make of that.

“You—” He felt like he was about to choke. “You — Are you implying you’re—”

Hinata looked at the ground. He had the guts to look shy.

“I… like you, a bit.” He shook his head. “N-No, I like you a lot. I’m sure.”

“B-But—” He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. When did the street start spinning like that? That couldn’t seriously be good for pedestrians. Whoever did it did not think that through that much, did they not? Goddammit, Nagito, you useless piece of trash, focus. “Why—?”

Hinata frowned. “Why, what?”

“Why would you— I mean I—” He tried to retrieve his hands. Hinata squeezed harder, did not let him get away. Screw him, seriously, Nagito hated him so much. He hated he did not. “I’m me, Hinata-kun.”

“Yeah. That’s why.”

“I’m repulsive,” He shook, “I’m disgusting, I’m a dirty piece of scum. I bring misfortune and displeasure to all those around me, don’t you understand that?! How completely dense could you be?”

Hinata shrugged. Shrugged. He had the guts to shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal, like his standards weren’t so far on the ground it wasn’t possible to raise them back up.

“I don’t think any of that.” He said, “And even if that were true, I really don’t care.”

“You— don’t care?!” He felt almost offended. Almost. “My luck is going to kill you.”

“I doubt it can.”

“I’m incredibly annoying.”

“I’m not denying that. I still like you.”

“B-But— You’re going to be miserable. I’d just make you miserable.”

“I don’t think you would.”

“H-Hinata-kun, you can’t possibly be this foolish—” He laughed, even if there was absolutely nothing funny about all of this. “You can’t be this stupid and ignore an obvious threat to your life—”

“I can.” He came closer. He shouldn’t do that, he really shouldn’t, not if he wished for Nagito to keep himself under control. “Because there is no threat.”

“Hinata-kun—”

“Komaeda,” He brought their hands up. His smile looked hopeful. “Do you feel something for me?”

There it was. There was the acceleration, the sweating, the incapability of forming coherent sentences. He wanted to deny it, he wanted to run. He wanted to push Hinata away until he deterred him and couldn’t stand his mere sight. He wanted to shake his head so quickly it would detach from his neck and fly away.

But Hinata was hopeful. Hinata believed in an impossible case.

Nagito gulped.

“I didn’t mean to.” He managed, “I really did not.”

“Neither did I.” Hinata’s shoulders relaxed. “Maybe it just had to happen.”

“That’s—” He let out a breath. “—Incredibly corny.”

“…I know.”

“Hinata-kun, this—” He shook his head. “It’s not going to work.”

“We can try.” He insisted. “Just once?”

Nagito hesitantly looked at him. Hinata smiled.

“Go on a date with me,” He said, “Just one time. Please, Komaeda?”

Nagito loathed the idea of love. Its sensations, the way it control all over his body, the way it dumbed him down even further. He hated not being able to understand what was going on in his head anymore. And he hated not hating it, he hated loving the warmth that spread over, hated the dream-like gaze it put him in, he hated that he cherished how the first thing he did every morning was thinking about the prettiest smile he’d ever laid his eyes on. He loathed love, and he also adored it, all at once.

Love made you do stupid things. It made you shiver when Hinata Hajime said your name with enough sweetness to cause a cavity. It made you want to say yes to the craziest request he’d ever heard in his life.

And yet he smiled. Shaky, but present.

Because love really does make you stupid.

“It would be an honor, Hinata-kun.”

It made you demented. It made you laugh when Hinata throws his arms around you and hugs you tight. It makes you need for him to be closer, and closer, and closer till their bodies can fuse together if they’ll wish for that to happen.

Nagito had absolutely no idea if he was still sick or not. If this was all a misunderstanding and they were going to make the worst mistake of his life. If he was right all along and he was going to die in Hinata’s arms.

He had absolutely zero clue.

He guessed they’d find out together.