#[ mostly because i like the idea of him attending the same school as sonia ]

[causalitylinked]

Thinking about a potential Danganronpa verse for Akira, and to be honest, he’d probably be the Ultimate Underground Street Fighter. In this AU, though, I can honestly see him being classmates with Seiji Amanome, who would be the Ultimate Blackmailer, and Kaoru Hazuki, who would be the Ultimate Occult Idol. They would be a part of Class 77-C respectively and their homeroom teacher would be the former Ultimate Journalist, Naomasa Ban.

Of course, as far as friends are concerned, Akira would still be a loner, but considering he likes martial arts and fighting tough opponents, I can see him getting along with Sakura Oogami quite well. I could also imagine @more-than-a-princess​’s Sonia slowly managing to befriend him and Akira being at least on civil terms with Peko Pekoyama, yet aside from them, Seiji, Kaoru, and Sakura are probably his only friends.

Honestly, Mondo would be far too noisy for him despite the fact he’d be able to appreciate his motorcycle, Tenko would be someone he would consider a ‘bitch’, Kuzuryu would be someone who pisses him off, and while he wouldn’t be necessarily cruel to her, Mikan would be way too sensitive for his liking.

Either way, many people would probably find him scary, if only because Akira just gives off these very... intense vibes. There would be rumors circling around about him beating someone up so bad, they became comatose, him being abusive to women (despite it not being true), him allegedly making a teacher piss his pants from one glare alone, and him punching a literal hole through the wall at some point.

Whether or not most of these are true, however, is debatable, but regardless, Akira will be annoyed that people would over-exaggerate his violent tendencies with women, because the only time he would even lay his hands on them is if they harm someone he cares about or attacks him first. Other than that, though, he is perfectly content with the fact people mostly leave him alone.

[nachtgraves]

I don't know if you take requests or things but i really like your writing. But can i get some jealous!Kuzuhina (like they both like each other or are dating and they both get simultaneously jealous?) Your writing is really good i love it.

Aw thank you! And I do very much take requests so thank you for the prompt! This took a while because I got fixated on figuring out UK peerage and titles and barely any of it made it into the fic that got longer than intended as per usual lol. Not sure if this quite what you had in mind but I hope you enjoy!

Title: Under Sunlight // AO3Word Count: 4,670Warnings/Tags: G. Victorian au sorta, established relationship, secretly dating, i took liberties with uk peerage, not historically accurate, a little past one-sided peko/fuyu(the kids’ former high schools are their ‘territory’ for their titles, so Duke Green Hills is gottagofast Togami)

Hajime’s nerves battle between excitement and dread andanxiety that is not entirely because of the fairly rocky carriage ride. Hecan’t seem to sit still, smoothing his hands over his legs, buttoning andunbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt, fidgeting with the lapels of his coat. Chiaki,sitting across from him, reaches over and stills his jumping knee.

“You’ve been to parties as my companion before. And we knowMakoto and Kyoko. What’s wrong?”

Hajime sighs. “I know. It’s nothing, just, he’ll be there.”

“I don’t understand. Shouldn’t you be more excited aboutthat?”

Hajime shrugs helplessly. He should. He hasn’t seen his loverin months and letters are nice but never enough. And it’s not like he can talkabout his lover since no one but Chiaki knows that his lover is the Marquess ofSuzuran, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu.

They are something that shouldn’t have happened, couldn’thave happened if not for chance. Chiaki’s world alone is something that Hajimeas a boy didn’t think he’d ever be a part of. And he’s still not, not really.He isn’t an earl or even a baronet, he’s Chiaki’s friend and valet. The linesare blurred and they’re already stomping over the lines of propriety andtradition and Hajime wasn’t about to test his luck with making his andFuyuhiko’s relationship public knowledge. Even with Chiaki, Fuyuhiko is of aprestige that is out of Hajime’s reach. He cherishes every second he can bewith his marquess.

“To the public, we don’t know each other,” Hajime finallysays. Even if he wanted to use Chiaki he couldn’t, his best friend and hislover are in completely different circles. Makoto and Kyoko’s engagement partyis one of very few parties where different ranking mingle, Kyoko a duke’sdaughter and Makoto a baron’s son. “And I can’t pretend not to know him the wayI do if we’re together.”

Chiaki hums and pats his knee before withdrawing. Theychange the subject and talk about who else will be in attendance, who they’relooking forward to seeing. Who they’re not. Due to the disparity between Kyokoand Makoto’s ranks, their relationship has been the fodder for gossip rags andspiteful gossip since they became public and their engagement party is not theintimate gathering of friends that they would have preferred.

Soon enough, they arrive at the Kirigiri estate. There’s aline of carriages and they wait until it’s their turn to disembark. A footmanopens the door and Chiaki gives their names as he helps them out. Free of thecarriage, Hajime smooths out his clothes and offers Chiaki his arm after shesorts out her dress. They walk arm-in-arm past the tall gates of the estate andimmediately come into a large garden party. There are patio tables andlace-decorated umbrellas. Servers mill about holding silver platters ofchampagne and lemon water. A band plays a gentle number that a few pairs danceto on the grass.

There are many familiar faces around, some Hajime knowspersonally and others he knows only by reputation. One of the tables has beenrepurposed for cards with spectators gathered around Lady Celestia and HisGrace Green Hills, Lady Touko hovering by His Grace. Sonia is in discussionwith Gundham and Kazuichi. Nekomaru, Akane, Lord Leon, and Lady Aoi are in themiddle of some sort of ball game with Dame Sakura keeping an eye on them.

“Ah, there’s Kyoko!” Chiaki says. She tugs Hajime towards asmall gathering. In the center of it is the happy couple, Kyoko drawn into thethick of the conversation and Makoto standing by her side. They’re with peopleHajime doesn’t know but when Makoto catches sight of them he looks relieved andextracts himself from the gathering after a word to Kyoko.

“Chiaki, Hajime, thank you for coming.” He seems to want toreach out for a hug but they’re in mixed company and restrains himself to abright smile and the use of their first names.

“Congratulations, my lord,” Hajime says teasingly, claspingMakoto’s hands in place of a hug.

“I’m not a lord yet.” Makoto flushes pink from embarrassmentand happiness, maybe a bit from the sun bearing down on them. He looks back toKyoko who’s glancing towards him. It’s absolutely sickening and Hajime couldn’tbe happier for them, if a touch envious.

They spend a few minutes catching up, and it’s mostly Makotothat has had major changes in his life since they last saw one another. He’s inthe thick of legalities to make Komaru the heir of their family’s barony afterhe marries into the Kirigiri family. He’ll become an earl of one of theKirigiris’ smaller lands when Kyoko inherits her father’s duchy.

They’re in the middle of discussing and lamenting all thatis involved in the preparations for Makoto and Kyoko’s wedding when Hajime hearssomeone say, ““Oh, the Marquess brought only his knight. Maybe there issomething to the rumors.”

Hajime can’t help turning around and there he is, in a darkthree piece suit with matching coat and a dark gold tie fixed in a perfectknot. And on his arm is Dame Peko, in a suit-styled dress that matches withFuyuhiko. They look a powerful pair.

Hajime knows he needs to look away, that his face is likelyfixed in a picture of longing and envy, but he soaks Fuyuhiko in. The vest,shades lighter than his coat and trousers with burnt gold fastenings and adarker embroidered design of Eastern styled dragons, is one Hajime remembers. He’dseen it in passing in a shop window the last time he had managed to visitFuyuhiko. He remembers mentioning it but they had quickly moved onto less coherentlyverbal matters.

In any case, he’d been right. The vest looks amazing onFuyuhiko and Hajime wants to peel off Fuyuhiko’s coat to see the fabric infull. They’re stopped by peers and Hajime turns around, trying to pretend hewasn’t staring so openly at the two. Chiaki’s giving him a knowing look heignores.

“I wish I could keep talking with you both, but I can’tleave Kyoko to do all the hosting. After all of this,” Makoto waves his handsabout, “is over, we must get drinks or dinner. I miss you both.”

“Of course, if you can find the time to pull yourself awayfrom your future duties as an earl and the husband of a duchess.”

Makoto rolls his eyes but waves as he returns to Kyoko, takingher arm in his, accepting felicitations and joining conversation.

Chiaki slips her hand from Hajime’s elbow. “I need to run tothe wash closet,” she says. “You’ll be fine on your own for a bit?”

“I’m supposed to be the one watching out for you,” Hajimeretorts. “I’ll be by the buffet table.”

Chiaki asks him to grab something for her before she leaveshim alone. The buffet table laden with bite-sized treats ranging from biscuitsand tea buns to mini-sandwiches and puddings in tiny glass cups. He walks downthe length of it, picking up sandwiches and pastries he knows Chaiki likes. Ashe continues to peruse the offerings, he comes to a tray of fried dough bites.Hajime doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he’s very familiar with thesweet, incredibly unhealthy snack.

He reaches for the pair of tongs to grab a few of the darkstrips of dough and brown sugar but someone else has the same idea. He looksup, apology halfway off his tongue but stops short.

“Lord Suzuran,” Hajime says in a mix of surprise and trainedgreeting. He barely remembers not to call Fuyuhiko by name.

Fuyuhiko’s face is impassive but Hajime notes the way hiseyes flash in amusement. He’d done this one purpose.

“Mr. Hinata,” Fuyuhiko returns. He takes the tongs and loadsup his plate with his favorite food. “You like these?”

He’s being unfair but Hajime can’t just ignore him, and ifhe lies Fuyuhiko will never let him forget it. “Um, not really no.”

“Oh?” Then why wereyou going to grab them? remains unsaid but his expression is knowing, mouthcurved in a slight smirk.

“I just know someone who loves them,” Hajime buckles,looking away in his admission. When he looks back to Fuyuhiko, his marquess iseating one of his fried dough treats, licking his fingers of the brown sugarsyrup residue. Hajime follows the movement closely. He’s being so obvious it’sprobably pathetic. They’re out in the open and they’re in vastly differentcircles, not supposed to know each other even as acquaintances. Fuyuhiko’s amarquess and heir to a dukedom and Hajime is little more than the valet andclose friend to a viscountess.

Hajime knows what Fuyuhiko is doing. His lover has made itclear that he’s not exactly happy with keeping their relationship a secret,only doing so at Hajime’s behest. But he doesn’t try to make things easier inthe few times they attend the same social functions.

He tries to find some other topic to switch to and stupidlyasks, “Lady Natsumi couldn’t make it?” Of all the topics to pick this is thelast he could and should have gone with. But he can’t help himself. At least hedidn’t outright ask about why he brought Dame Peko. Fuyuhiko is notorious fornot courting or bringing anyone but his sisters and his knight to events as hiscompanions. His excuse has always been that he has no time nor interest forcourting and society and Natsumi loves all sorts of events so he acts as herchaperone since he doesn’t trust anyone else. It kills two birds with one stonesince it makes him fulfill the social obligations of his position.

“Natsumi’s at school so it’s just me and Peko.” He looksover his shoulder and Hajime follows suit, seeing Dame Sakura and Dame Pekoconversing. The two were schoolmates, Dame Peko a year ahead. They both havesuch rigid and neutral, if somewhat threatening, expressions it’s difficult to tellthat they’re familiar with one another.

He eats another fried dough strip. “I take it you’reaccompanying Lady Chiaki?”

Hajime nods. “Ah yes.” And speak of the devil, Hajime seesher coming towards him. “There she is.”

When she approaches, she links her arms with Hajime’s. “Sorryfor making you wait,” she says to Hajime, and then she greets Fuyuhiko.

Fuyuhiko’s eyes linger at their linked arms, the golden orbsgo flat. He fixes a polite smile and returns Chiaki’s greeting, but he’salready distancing himself. “I’ll leave you two. I should return to Peko.”Without much else, he turns on his heel and walks over to his knight. Hajimewatches after him, his heart heavy. Fuyuhiko slips easily into conversationwith Dame Peko and Dame Sakura and Hajime reaches for champagne from the trayof a passing server. He downs it quickly and grimaces at the after taste.

Chiaki leans against him. “Did I interrupt?”

Hajime sighs. “No. Oh, hey, you like this waltz, don’t you?”

It’s not the smoothest diversion but Chiaki allows him it,and it’s not like he’s lying. It is a waltz Chiaki enjoys due to its ease andsimplicity. Hajime abandons the food he’s lost his appetite for and they joinother pairs on the grassy open space in front of the band, sliding into the familiarsteps.

Hajime does his best not to look at Fuyuhiko whenever theother man is in sight over Chiaki’s shoulder. He tries to focus on Chiaki,chatting and laughing as he spins her around. They dance for two songs beforethey need to take a break. There’s really no cover from the sun. They takerefuge at one of the patio tables and manage to flag down a server with glassesof chilled lemon water. Hajime would prefer they have a quiet moment to themselves,but that’s near impossible at a gathering like this.

Chiaki, like Fuyuhiko, doesn’t always attend socialfunctions. Unless it’s a small and intimate gathering with those she considersfriends, she’d much prefer to be left to her own, literal, devices and books.

But they’re stuck and have to navigate the shifting socialwaters. Or at least Chiaki does. Most tend to ignore Hajime or order him aboutthinking he’s staff. Which he is, but only to Chiaki if he’s attending as hervalet and not companion, and that’s rarely the case if Chiaki can help it.

But today is one such time that he’s treated as less byindividuals that try to simper and curry favor from Chiaki. A lord Hajime onlyfaintly recognizes but cannot recall his title, much less his name, inviteshimself to their table and snidely questions why Hajime is just sitting there,beside Chiaki. Hajime fixes a smile and settles a hand on Chiaki’s knee underthe table to stop her from tearing the lord apart.

“I was resting. I don’t dance often and while today islovely overall, the sun is brutal.” He can’t outright correct the lord of hismisconception, it would go against all sorts of social decorum and Hajime wouldbe the one in the wrong regardless. He doesn’t want to cause Chiaki griefbecause a peer was called out on his behaviour and publically embarrassed by acommoner.

Chiaki adds, “Hajime’s a great friend. He’s always humoringme even at risk of heat stroke.”

The lord pretends it was all in jest and tries to backtrackby laughing the discussion off and moving onto safer topics of estates anddebutantes and the season’s fashion. It’s all over Hajime’s head and topics hecan’t have much say in because of his station. Even if Hajime could and wouldhave wanted to take part, the lord very pointedly directs all his attention toChiaki and all but erects a wall between them. Chiaki pats his hand in supportunder the table.

As conversation is not open to him and he’s not about toleave Chiaki alone with his man, Hajime takes to looking around. The Kirigiriestate is an architectural and landscaped masterpiece with not a stone norbranch out of place. And if structure and décor bores him, the variety ofguests dressed in the broad range of the current fashion provide plenty to beobserved.

But his eyes keep going to the man with buzzed blond hair.And he wishes they didn’t. Fuyuhiko and Dame Peko have moved on to spectate agame of cards. Some uninformed or cocky lord is trying their hand against LadyCelestia. Dame Peko leans down and whispers something in his ear, it looksintimate and Hajime’s stomach twists. He knows better, but he still feels illwhen Fuyuhiko snorts and looks up at Dame Peko with a hint of a smile andreplies, rising up on his toes before she leans back down so he can whisper inher ear.

“Who do I have to see about putting money on the Marquessand his knight being the next society wedding?” the lord says, drawing Hajime’sfocus back to the table.

“If there is such a pool, that’s the last I would bet for,”Chiaki replies.

“Now, my lady, it would be a bit scandalous but look at ourhosts. Anything’s possible, apparently.” The derision is accompanied by rolledeyes directed towards Makoto.

“The illusionary differences of social class have nothing todo with my opinions. And if someone ever thought that of me, they really do notknow me at all, now do they, Hajime?” Rarely is Chiaki curt or cold, but she’sbeen growing steadily irate with their unwelcome table companions A tense cloudsettles over the table and the lord is not so oblivious to not realize he’smade a misstep yet again.

He stumbles over some sort of recovery but Chiaki is lenientenough to save him the trouble. “If you’ll excuse us, I haven’t had the chanceto catch up with Lord Nagito.”

Chiaki gets up and Hajime follows suit but he almost stopsin his tracks seeing just whom Lord Nagito is currently with.

Lord Nagito is an eccentric peer and Hajime has never quiredisliked the man, but he can’t say he quite likes or enjoys his company. Hecan’t quite place Lord Nagito’s feelings towards him either. The odd lord hasfew close companions and by some strange logic one of them is Fuyuhiko. Hajime’snever understood and Fuyuhiko’s never been able to put a finger on it himself.

So he really shouldn’t be surprised that up ahead, champagneglasses in hand, Fuyuhiko is rolling his eyes at whatever Kazuichi and LordNagito are discussing, although arguing may be closer verb.

Chiaki reaches out and holds onto Hajime’s arm, leaning overand saying quietly, “If you want to take a few minutes, there’s probably no onearound the back.”

Hajime hesitates. He doesn’t want to runaway but he alsoisn’t into punishing himself more than he already has. There’s still a goodwhile before it’s acceptable to leave, even with the excuse that he and Chiakiwill be going straight home rather than lodging somewhere in the city. “I’llfind you in a bit.”

Chiaki lets him go after a quick kiss to his cheek. Hajimecan feel stares on them but doesn’t look around. “Go on, I’ll be fine.”

Chiaki goes off and Hajime forces himself not to stare afterher and subsequently Fuyuhiko, turning away and heading for the quieterbackyard of the estate. He walks around the edge of the manor and comes to alarge back garden of the season’s flowers in full bloom. They’re made up almostlike a maze that guides to a gazebo that’s mostly hidden by miniature trees andflowering bushes. Like Chiaki had guessed, there’s no one else around.

He follows along the path and steps into the shade of thegazebo. Inside is a white wicker patio set; a square table set with a glass topand two chairs with intricate weaving. Hajime sheds his coat and folds it overthe back of a chair before he takes a seat, leaning back and closing his eyes. Musicand chatter from the party are a faint noise in his peripheral.

While he doesn’t quite fall asleep, he must have dozed a bitdeeply because he’s blinking out of a daze when someone’s shaking his shoulder.

“Stealing away for a nap?” Fuyuhiko says looking down athim. He’s standing between Hajime’s legs that have ended up in a long sprawland still fuzzy-headed, Hajime reaches out and cups Fuyuhiko’s face, pullinghim down for a kiss.

Fuyuhiko braces himself with one hand on the back of thechair but otherwise falls into the soft but firm and lingering press of mouths.Hajime can feel Fuyuhiko smile into the kiss and it pulls a smile of his ownuntil an applause echoes from the distance and Hajime remembers where they areand that even though the gazebo is out of the way and gives the illusion ofprivacy, it is just an illusion.

It hurts his heart to see Fuyuhiko’s smile dip when Hajimehurriedly pulls away, getting to his feet and trying to create distance withouttoppling backwards over the chair. Fuyuhiko takes a step back and crosses hisarms over his chest. He’s discarded his coat as well and the vest looks just asgood as Hajime thought it would on him. Unfortunately, they’re not in a placewhere he can properly appreciate it.

“I, sorry, I forgot where we were,” Hajime says, smoothingout his clothes to take his mind off of Fuyuhiko’s.

“There’s no one around, Hajime,” Fuyuhiko says. “Everyone’sbusy with champagne and dancing and gossiping.”

“Someone could have the same idea as us and come back hereto take a breather,” Hajime argues. “Any little action lends to gossip andrumors.”

“Doesn’t stop you from fueling the rumors about you and yourviscountess,” Fuyuhiko grumbles, looking off to the side.

“You know those are baseless. Anyone that actually knowsChiaki or me knows that we’re siblings at most. And it’s expected. We grew uptogether. And it’s not like you and Dame Peko are any different.” He shouldstop there, but he can’t help bitterly adding, “At least Chiaki and I havenever had romantic feelings for each other.”

He regrets his words as soon as they escape him. Now he’sbeing unfair and purposely so about something long past. Dame Peko and Fuyuhiko’srelationship is entirely platonic and he knows it. When Dame Peko did havefeelings for Fuyuhiko, it was long before Hajime and Fuyuhiko even met.Fuyuhiko and Dame Peko had been children, it was a first crush that settledinto loyalty and trust and a bone-deep friendship.

Fuyuhiko doesn’t even say anything. He just shoves his handsinto his pockets but Hajime can see they’re clenched into fists within thefabric, his muscles tense. His face goes blank, a flinty steel to his eyes.

“Fuyuhiko, I didn’t—” Hajime tries to apologize but Fuyuhikocuts him off.

“I should be returning. If you’re going to continue napping,there’s a bench close to the doors that won’t fuck up your neck.” With thatFuyuhiko turns around and walks away, quickly disappearing behind shrubbery andreturning to the party.

Hajime falls back into the chair and hangs his head. He’sreally shoved his foot in his mouth now and he’ll definitely have to figure outhow to make it up to Fuyuhiko, if Fuyuhiko will even still talk to him.

It takes him a few minutes to make himself get up and rejointhe party even though he is far from a partying sort of mood. But he can’t disappearand abandon Chiaki until it’s time to go home.

Returning back to the rest of the party, Hajime finds thateveryone is at tables chatting or gambling or discussing business and trade. Theband’s taking a break, their instruments put off to the side under some shade,all of them down water and wiping sweat off their brows. Anyone who was wearinga coat no longer is and sleeves are rolled up. A server stops Hajime and asksif he might take Hajime’s coat, to which Hajime gratefully hands off the itemwith a thank you before looking for Chiaki.

He finds her in the shade of a looming tree with LordNagito, Kazuichi, and Lady Aoi. He joins them and makes an excuse of needingsome time away from the heat for his prolonged disappearance. Chiaki frowns athim, she must be able to tell that something had happened.

“I saw Fuyuhiko slip away for a bit,” she whispers to himwhen they have a second.

Hajime shakes his head. “I messed up.” Fuyuhiko’s across theyard. Hajime meets his eyes for a second but Fuyuhiko quickly looks away.

Chiaki pats his arm in sympathy but says, “I understand yourposition, but it must be hard on him too.”

“It’ll be harder for him if we don’t do this.”

Chiaki makes a noncommittal noise. “It was hard for Makotoand Kyoko. But they stuck together. Makoto was so worried but look at him now.”

Makoto is all smiles that are even softer when turned toKyoko, the sun shining down on them.

Hajime looks to Fuyuhiko and his heart clenches in his chestat the marquess. It’s not obvious to others, but Hajime has learned Fuyuhiko’sbody language and he knows when Fuyuhiko is upset and angry. Dame Peko doestoo. Her usually emotionless mask cracks into a hint of concern and she leansdown to whisper something to Fuyuhiko. Fuyuhiko shakes his head and runs a handthrough his hair. He smiles, a tired one, and Hajime knows it’s his fault evenbefore Dame Peko looks up and shoots him a judging glare. Hajime looks down,ashamed, and lets conversation happen around him, only making noises ofacknowledgement when needed.

Not long later, the band returns to their instruments toresume their next set. Their leader calls for couples, namely Makoto and Kyoko,to take the floor. There’s cheering and clapping as Makoto takes Kyoko’s handand leads her to the center of the cleared space. Other couples and pairssurround them, getting into position and waiting on the band. Everyone who camewith a companion finds a space. Hajime automatically takes Chiaki’s hand andgets into position, ready to move to practiced steps.

But when the band starts, Hajime recognizes the song as thefirst few notes sing through the air and his legs freeze. It’s a song native tohis hometown, a song about fate and true love discovered in touch and a leap offaith. It’s the first song Fuyuhiko and Hajime ever danced to. It was one oftheir first secret meetings, a private indoor picnic of wine and pastries spiritedaway from the kitchens.

Chiaki pats his cheek. “You should dance to this with whoyou’re meant to.” She pulls away from him. “I’d rather raid the snacks whileeveryone else is busy.” And she walks away and does exactly that, leavingHajime standing alone. Someone snickers at him but he turns and finds Fuyuhiko.He and Dame Peko have managed to snag an abandoned set of chairs. Fuyuhiko’sleaning on his elbow and looking at the pairs dancing with a wistful tilt tothe purse of his lips.

Hajime’s been a cowardly idiot. He makes his way around thedancers and comes up to Fuyuhiko. Dame Peko notices him first but she doesn’t domore than send him a warning look and make some excuse to get up and leave. Shedistracts Fuyuhiko long enough that Hajime is in front of Fuyuhiko beforeFuyuhiko can bolt.

“Mr. Hinata,” Fuyuhiko says, cautious, surprised. He quicklyshoots a glare at Dame Peko, quickly figuring out his knight had abandoned himon purpose.

“My lord.” Hajime’s voice cracks at the address, but hesoldiers on. “My lord, would you allow me a dance?” He bows at the waist, armextended, palm up. His hand is shaking ever so and he knows there are eyes onhim. A lowly valet asking a marquess to dance to a love song played at everywedding and engagement party. But all he can look at is Fuyuhiko’s face, hismouth parted in surprise, eyes wide in disbelief. And then he’s smiling, aglimmer in his gold eyes that Hajime has only ever known in privacy andseclusion where they were free to be. Well, where Hajime thought they were freeto be, but they could be free in public too.

Fuyuhiko takes his hand and Hajime almost doesn’t believeit, but he pulls Fuyuhiko to his feet and leads him to an open space, into hisembrace and the first steps of the dance. He leaves the space of proprietybetween them but Fuyuhiko steps in a little too far at the next beat andreduces it to one of intimacy. Anything less was for private rooms or acurtained alcove.

“If we’re doing this, we’re not doing it halfway, Mr.Hinata.”

Hajime laughs and lowers his hand from Fuyuhiko’s shoulderblade to the gentle curve of his lower back. “Then you should be calling me byname, Fuyuhiko.”

Fuyuhiko rolls his eyes at him but he leans up and Hajime’seyes go wide thinking that Fuyuhiko is actually going to kiss him. He’s alreadytaking such a big leap, he doesn’t know if he can qiute go that far though. Butwith a mischievous smile, Fuyuhiko angles to the side at the last second and ittakes a moment for Hajime to register the brief peck on his cheek. Before hepulls away, Fuyuhiko tsks by Hajime’s ear, “There are a few things I’d preferwe keep under moonlight.”

Hajime’s ears are bright red throughout thedance, but his heart is light and full and his smile won’t leave his face forhours to come.

[flyswhumpcenter]

It Happened Again [Fever February Day 17 - Hospital Fever]

FEVER FEBRUARY INDEX

Summary: Chiaki receives a call from not one, but three of her friends, and all for the same reason. A reason so strong, she leaves her livestream viewers hanging without a word, and runs for the local supermarket. Because it all happened again.

Fandom: Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair (Non-Desp AU, cameos by characters from DR1 and DRV3) Ship: Hinanami (Hajime/Chiaki)

Word Count: 3K words

Notes: No long time to see in the Hinanami sphere with my usual sickfic business. Can't say this is the best comeback ever, but I hope to do much better next time haha. This was mostly a warm-up. A three-day warm-up, but still, a warm-up.It turns out using my ideas from July 2017 more than half a year after originally having them made this fanfic very stale and with nowhere to fucking go. And I still don't know how to write Chiaki so that's good I guess. Kind of a follow up to a Pixelated Fever oneshot from a while back, "Hajime discovers shiny hunting: the fic". At least, takes place in the same settings and AU conditions.

AO3 version available here.

The hunt was going strong for Chiaki, who was sitting in front of her computer for a surprise livestream. It doesn’t happen often, because she attends college (as she should), and while she couldn’t really launch herself into competitive gaming thanks to it being too fast for her, she still dreamed of making video gaming her source of income in the near future.

Sure, shiny hunting required ungodly patience to most people’s eyes. It was, after all, a long and slow process of trying over and over until you find the perfect gem. Some people said it was useless because it was “just the same but in different colours”: Chiaki loved it because she could do it at her pace. She also happened to think it was a great challenge with a satisfying reward, since she got to keep the fruit of her labour.

So, of course, when her phone rang, she didn’t pick up at first.

The chat got a bit upset over this. It was probably just a friend from college who was calling to get some news of her. At worst, they would leave a voice mail and she would call later. Maybe. She didn’t like phoning people. She preferred talking to them over Discord and Skype. She’d see later, she thought.

“Don’t worry guys… It’s probably just a friend from school…” she told her audience, in an attempt to calm them down.

But the phone kept ringing.

Chiaki wondered if she shouldn’t have muted it, because she didn’t like being disturbed during her livestreams at all! It was meant to be a sweet surprise for her viewers, not some kind of chore to go through because of someone desperate to talk to her when they could wait for later.

Still, she eventually picked her pink cell, if only to look at who’s calling her. The name on the screen couldn’t mistake her: it’s Makoto. It seemed like she had also missed calls from Kazuichi and Kaito. That was weird… Why would the three of them call her at the same time? There must had been a reason for it. She picked up the call.

“Chiaki, finally!” Makoto sighed in relief from the other side of the line, but she could still tell he was very tense. His voice was shaking between every word.

“What’s wrong, Makoto? You sound so stressed…”

“Oh, huh, yeah, that’s why we were trying to call you! It’s about what happened a bit earlier at the shop…”

The supermarket, of course! Makoto, Kazuichi and Kaito all worked there. That made a common point between the three of them. She felt a lump forming in her throat, in anticipation for what was to come.

“Could you come to the supermarket as soon as possible? I’m afraid I won’t be able to explain you everything on the phone, I have stuff to attend to real quick! But please, please come as fast as you can, Chiaki!!”

The urgency in Makoto’s voice made her accept, even if she would had been more reluctant usually. Displaying a cold face, or at least one colder enough to get a mixed reaction from her worried viewers, she waved them goodbye and went offline. Without a word.

Her fingers were shaking. She didn’t have to be told to guess it was about Hajime. Why else would they all call her? It had to be about Hajime. She quickly grabbed her bag, her keys and headed outside as soon as possible, running down the stairs of her building, almost forgetting to lock the door to their flat.

In front of her apartment lot, was a car waiting for her, much to her surprise. In its driver’s seat, Kaito. Chiaki sat the passenger seat quicker than she could have ever expected coming from her, barely looking at him to thank him for the ride, or just to even say hello to him. How unpolite of her, but her anxiety was already growing to high levels.

“You really didn’t take long after Makoto called you, dontcha? It’s weird, cause you’re usually pretty slow!”

The car took off as soon as he stopped speaking, heading straight to the supermarket. And that was where everything fell apart to her eyes.

Chiaki ran straight to Makoto and Kazuichi, who were standing near the glass double-doors of the entrance. They both seemed sad, compared to their usual grins and smiles… This only meant trouble, and what kind of trouble and to what extent, she would soon know. Kaito followed closely behind her, his footsteps loud enough to be heard from far enough in the almost-empty parking.

“Makoto, Kazuichi, I’m here…! Sorry for the missed calls and lateness…!”

She was breathless, but she didn’t mind, as long as she got to know what was wrong and whatever she could do to fix it, as little as the fix would be.

Kazuichi looked at her with an uncharacteristic lack of enthusiasm. At that point, it seemed like even a kiss from Sonia couldn’t make him look happier.

“So,” he told her in a calm voice, “you came, huh… Guess we don’t have much choice but to explain you what’s just happened, right?”

Makoto seemed very embarrassed upon seeing Kazuichi’s eyes laid upon him.

“Hajime… isn’t really here anymore…” is all the lucky boy added, looking down.

That was even worse! What had even happened in there?!

“What do you mean?” she asked, determined to squeeze an answer out of them.

“Yeah, guys,” Kaito arrived into the conversation, “Hajime was there when I left! Where is he?”

“We had to call an ambulance man!” Kazuichi yelled as his reply. “His fever wouldn’t stop rising, we got scared shitless!!”

Chiaki completely froze.

For once, she had an insistent glaze laid on everybody around her. It wasn’t really them she was blaming: of course they’d call an ambulance if their friend and workmate had a potentially lethal fever. No, it was an anger directed at both her, for not preventing this situation to happen when she could have done so in the morning, and at Hajime for being irresponsible again.

He truly hadn’t changed on that point since Hope’s Peak.

“Oh, right!” Makoto reacted. “You can’t know the full story yet, Chiaki! One of us will have to tell you when driving you to the hospital, since at least two of us need to remain here…”

“I’ll drive her myself,” Kaito said as he patted her shoulder. “You guys take care of the mall while I’m away, okay?”

“Copy that, Roger!”

It was with anxiety and an intense worry burning in her blood that Chiaki followed the astronaut-to-be to his car which he had sloppily parked when bringing her there.

Kaito’s story enabled her to put in pictures what had happened at the supermarket while she was hunting for a Reshiram she’d have to put on the side.

While they were ordering shelves, with desert alleys in dire need of restocking, he heard a weird thumping sound. Thinking it was just some product someone hadn’t put in there properly, Kaito went to check out what had caused the noise, as faint as it was.

He was confronted to his workmate and friend collapsed to the ground, face against the cold floor, having seemingly fallen from his stool as he was restocking soulmate-themed cereal boxes.

Growing instantly worried, he ran to Hajime, who fortunately was still breathing. He wasn’t breathing fine, that was for sure, as it was in ragged breaths, but he was alive. Not alive and well, that was for sure, but he was alive. He also didn’t seem to have hurt anything except for his nose and some quick bruises here and there on exposed parts of his skin.

Turning the older boy on his back revealed two things to Kaito: Hajime was paler than if Celestia Ludenberg and his best friend Shuichi had a corpse baby together, and that his cheeks and bridge of nose were redder than Himiko’s hair. He also happened to have dark rings under his eyes. Well, darker-than-usual rings that was. After all, Hajime always looked tired and done with everything ever.

(Chiaki couldn’t really contradict that. Hajime was, frankly, a bad sleeper who really enjoyed waking up early in the morning.)

Of course, Kaito immediately ran to warn Makoto and Kazuichi, who were in near alleys, about Hajime being half-dead on the cold-ass floor. He didn’t even think about checking the latter’s temperature: his face alone, and the heat beneath his fingers, were enough to give away how high the guy’s fever was.

Of course, Kazuichi immediately panicked. Despite the fact he used to be in Hajime’s class and was probably the one of them three to be the most aware and used to the ex-Ultimate Counsellor’s antics. Instead, it was Makoto who got the idea to bring their workmate to the break room, lay him on the sofa there and call for Chiaki and an ambulance.

(Kaito apologized for not remembering the ambulance call at first. Chiaki excused it as stress taking over his memory. After all, she was dead worried for Hajime too.)

And that was when she finally picked up their calls, or rather, their pleas for desperate help as they really didn’t know how to deal with the situation. Dead in their tracks. He didn’t have any idea: even if he was often sick, he wasn’t that insane.

(Chiaki nodded.)

The trip to the hospital had been deadly quiet on her part. Chiaki still couldn’t utter a single word, actually: she was worried beyond her mind, and words just wouldn’t exit her mind. Instead, it was a bit of a turmoil inside of her. The question was: how hadn’t she noticed something would go wrong?  

Recalling her day as best as she could, she remembered he had woken up far before she did, leaving the flat before she could be out of bed. She swore she had heard some suspicious sounds here and there, probably tumbling. It was easy to brush it off as Hajime not being very awaken yet. But she should have known better.

She should have known he was an earlier bird than that.

Before she knew it, Chiaki was getting leaded into some corridors and into a hospital room. She knew it wouldn’t be as happy as the time they had all gone to check on Kazuichi who had broken his leg trying to please Sonia again (it had worked, somewhat, at least she had recognized the kind gesture). It would also not be as dark as Kaede telling them about that time Shuichi had almost strangled her in a delirium.

At least, she was certain Hajime didn’t have pneumonia. That was a plus, right? Else, she would have heard it, if Kaede’s descriptions were anything to go by.

In the room, she was left alone to face an occupied bed, door closing softly behind her. “I’ll let you two have some privacy” was the worst sentence ever when she barely knew what was wrong. Timidly, the gamer made her way to the bed, weary eyes fixated on the patient. She wasn’t scared of him: she was scared of what he had, and what he had done. There was always something terrifying, or at least intimidating about what he was capable of doing for the sake of something mundane.

Chiaki grabbed a nearby chair calmly, silently, and put it next to his bed. She sat just as noisily on it, sighing, afraid of studying his current condition from the outside, yet feeling the duty to do so. After all, she was his best friend and girlfriend. One of the things she owed him was to take care of him.

Kaito was right: Hajime looked tired all the time. However, it didn’t mean it couldn’t get worse: the Hajime before her eyes right at this moment was exhausted, if not worse. His dark rings had taken the shape of a dark purple canyon. It would have scared those who didn’t know him in his worst times: having see him overworked before, it didn’t scare her as much as it should have. It still made her worry, just as much even, but it wasn’t scary anymore.

The dark rings were alone on this face, though. While Hajime wasn’t as pale as a “corpse baby”, his skin had still lost a couple tones of colours, making him shades whiter than he usually was. That would be to ignore the important redness on his face: his cheeks were, indeed, tainted in a sickly shade of red.

His ragged breathing was one more indication of how unwell he actually was. How on Earth had he even been able to go to work in this condition? Sweat was rolling down his face, accompanying a pain look even in slumber and the other sickness symptoms he was showing. She could only wait for him to wake up to discuss everything she wanted to discuss.

Chiaki had dozed off without realizing it. She only realized it when she felt a hand shaking her shoulder gently, almost weakly, and stirred her eyes open. She woke up a bit quicker than usual, much to her surprise, before realizing she had napped in a room she wasn’t familiar with. Moments after that, she remembered where she was and why so: she was at the hospital, because Hajime had collapsed at work. Well, the collapse part was a hypothesis, but it had to be that, right?

The hand, in fact, belonged to him. He was half-sitting half-lying, a small smile on his face, and that despite his half-closed eyes and shabby breathing. He looked so weak… It was always weird to see him so vulnerable, far from his usual physical strength and both comforting and almost intimidating aura.

“Good morning, Chiaki…”

His smallest smile was driven with kindness even if it was, like everything about him right at this moment, weak.

“You shouldn’t be the one waking me up, Hajime…”

He snickers lightly.

“Why so…? You were asleep, weren’t ya…?”

“Because I’m not the sick one here!”

Hajime got taken aback, well, as aback as he could get when it seemed like his body had given up on him for the most part. Only then, did he weakly smile again, scoffing to himself.

“Heh, you’re right… I actually don’t recognize that place… We’re not in the staff room, right…?”

“Indeed, we’re at the hospital…”

Chiaki couldn’t bring herself not to be angry at him. She was, usually, never angry, except when stuff like that happened. According to her friends, it was anger born from worry, and she couldn’t see any other explanation to her uncharacteristic anger otherwise.

“I pissed you off, didn’t I…? Should have expected it as soon as I left…”

“Why are you doing this?”

He goes completely silent.

“I already explained to you countless times you shouldn’t be doing this for whatever reason you come up with… And so did everybody else… So, why are you doing this?”

The (cold) sweat running down his face was telling her he didn’t know himself. He never knew, in fact. He just kept doing because he considered it was his duty, or his obligations, and that you shouldn’t not accomplish your duty and said obligations.

Instead, his eyes looked at the IV in his wrist.

“Dunno… But I know I always tell you that I dunno… People keep telling me I can’t stop, they’re probably right… Haha…”

“I think that… If I hadn’t woken up so late, I may had been able to stop you…”

“What do you mean…?”

“You’ve been exhausted for a few days, yet I simply didn’t do anything against it…”

Hajime looked perplexed by her words. Who wouldn’t be? She wasn’t like that, usually, but she thought it was one of these times where she could express these kinds of feelings openly without them feeling too much out of place. It had happened before, in high school and afterwards.

“You’ll never stop if we don’t prevent you from throwing yourself in a fire… But I feel like I’ve already told you so. Multiple times, even, I think. I don’t feel like words serve a use anymore…”

“Guess I really am a stubborn guy, huh… Sorry for all the worries and fuss I caused, I’m sure the guys are gonna scream at me again later…”

“Why did you come to work sick, exactly?”

“Well… Today was supposed to be a busy day, at least this afternoon, so we were asked to come here to restock… And you know we need the money to buy you a new setup for your streams…”

Shot through the heart.

“Oh, Hajime… Don’t tell me you went to work sick because I want to replace my microphone and camera…”

He smiled.

“What if I did…? We need all the extra money we can get, especially since we’re still both in college and whatnot…”

“Yes, but not at the cost of your health!”

“Yeah, you’re right… Health’s expensive too…”

His deadpanned look and his illogical statements just screamed to her his brain was severely fevered.

“This isn’t what I meant… You need to take better care of yourself, Hajime. I know you’ve made some efforts for it in the past, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have a long way to go… You should know by now overworking doesn’t bring you anything but pain and fevers…”

“But…”

“Don’t use the money argument, please… Not again… Life doesn’t work that way, Hajime…”

His smile faded.

“Yeah, I know that… You may be right when you say I need someone to stop me from doing stupid shit…”

Chiaki put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“So, let yourself some rest and care, okay? We’re all going to make sure you get the self-care you need…”

He laid back in bed.

“Yeah, let’s do that once I’ve actually slept…”

[musichall]

The Man, The Myth, The Legend: Monte Bohanan

This week, the infamous Monte Bohanan joined the coveted 20 Year Club! To celebrate, we asked him to answer a few questions—to call this blog post a “highlight” doesn’t do it justice. Monte wrote a love letter to our beloved theater and the whole Seacoast community. Let’s stroll down a red-carpeted memory lane with the “Mayor of The Music Hall.”

You’ve been here forever, how did you end up at The Music Hall as a wee lad, and why did you stay? I answered a classified ad in the newspaper (remember those?) for a part-time box office ticket seller in the summer of 2000. I’ve had many roles: I was the Box Office Assistant Manager; Front of House Manager; Director of IT, Digital Marketing Manager, Director of Marketing, and currently I’m the Director of Communications & Community Engagement. On July 27, I celebrated 20 years working for The Music Hall! 

The reason that I’ve stayed so long is that I’ve continually been challenged, engaged, and inspired by the work, my colleagues, and the organization. I’ve been encouraged to foster new talents (as the list of jobs I’ve had here shows 😀), and I’ve had the creative license to run with an idea and a truly amazing team of folks that are always ready to nurture ideas into reality.

You’re the “Mayor of The Music Hall,” what does community mean to you and the Hall? A theater is of and for its community. Without a community to support it, a theater withers, and so does the community. The Music Hall started out as a Vaudeville house bringing the greatest acts touring around the country. It also hosted debates, lectures, the sixth-grade play, and high school graduations. Over 140 years on, we are still embracing that role. 

There is a need and desire for us as humans to gather together. While at this moment that is difficult, we are hard-wired to want to share experiences and hear stories, see ourselves represented on the stage or the screen. We come together to be entertained, to find joy, and connect with friends (old and new). We may want to participate in a common cause, to be inspired, to be challenged. 

The Music Hall is a community greatroom, a place for the exchange of ideas. I see it as essential for us to provide a safe space to have hard conversations and broaden our individual experiences, to look closely at long-held beliefs, and grow as a community, together. 

Your desk is covered in tech and gadgets and cool stuff; what part does technology play at a historic theater and what do you see for the future at the Hall? Theaters have always wanted to embrace new technology. Whether it was electric lights versus gas, movies on film to movies on hard drives, air conditioning, creative staging, or innovative productions. At the same time, theater is steeped in tradition and superstition—don’t whistle or mention the name of The Scottish Play.

Technology underpins everything we do, from the lights and sound to streaming video, working remotely, and selling tickets. But that analog experience of being in the room, of seeing something live and unfiltered by a screen is irreplaceable. And we must tend to that as to a precious and fragile thing.

What is your favorite backstage moment/ favorite moment at the Hall? It’s hard to pick just one. Over twenty years and hundreds of performances, I have met so many legends backstage. I watched Madeleine Albright play the drums. I ate dinner with The Blind Boys of Alabama. I basked in the presence of John Prine, Aimee Mann, Tony Bennett, and Babatunde Olatunji. I listened intently to stories told by Neil Gaiman and Justice Sonia Sotomayor. I hung out with Stephen King, Joe Hill, Dan Brown, and Margaret Atwood all at the same time! I laughed with Trevor Noah and Maria Bamford, and I stumbled over my words with Whoopi Goldberg. I was blown away by Taiko Drummers, Buddy the Elf, and Seven Fingers of the Hand, but perhaps my all-time favorite fanboy moment was when I got to introduce Steve Martin. He has always been one of my heroes. His ability to seamlessly integrate the personas of goofy comedian, museum curator, playwright, and banjo virtuoso into this Renaissance man is an inspiration (there’s hope for me, yet). 

He was to appear with Edie Brickell and the Steep Canyon Rangers. They had a heck of a day. Their bus broke down three times. They were late and they still had to soundcheck. So, the audience – a full house – was left waiting on the street. Finally, the audience was in. The air backstage is frenetic. I say a quick hello, but mostly try to stay out of the way. Steve sticks to the green room. I keep my intro short, but get some laughs with some ad-libbing about the situation and do my patented two-step. He is standing just off stage when I exit. He must’ve seen the surprise in my face. He says, “Nice job out there, thanks for warming them up…not even one tomato,” he flashes a big smile and sticks his hand up to give me a fist bump. I look at him quizzically but bump fists. “Finger picks,” he says wiggling his fingers and then he leaps past me to go on the stage to a standing ovation. The first thing he says to the audience is, “Thanks for bearing with us, you know banjos are notoriously hard to tune.” And just like that, he had them in his hand, and I stand in awe of his presence both on and off the stage. He’s funny and amazing. He goes on to put on one heck of a show. He could have been a diva, he could have canceled the show, but he led with a light, grace, and joy that has left an indelible mark on me.

You serve on multiple committees at The Music Hall, attend shows and member events regularly, you’re on the board of the Chamber Collaborative, End 68 Hours of Hunger, an organizer and once a grand marshal of the Portsmouth Halloween Parade, you are on the Portsmouth 400 committee, AND you’re a co-host of CreativeMornings PKX—what keeps you going and where do you get all that energy from? Lots of coffee. My mom would tell you that I finally found a creative outlet for all that frenetic energy.  Seriously though, most days it doesn’t feel like work. I get back way more than I give. I am proud to represent The Music Hall in lots of ways in the community and to have passion projects outside the Hall, too. I feel the need to give back. I get excited about ideas, projects, or events that tap into something that is core to us as human beings. Also, when you are a person that other people see doing things, they often ask you to do another thing. I tend to say, yes. 

In the many years that you’ve worked at The Music Hall, what has been one of your proudest achievements? Fill the Hall. Without a doubt. Denise Wheeler, a friend and fellow rabble-rouser, came to me and pitched an idea to use the theater for a food drive. We had done food drives in the past, “bring canned goods to any show this month and get a movie pass or a discount.” That had seen varying degrees of success. Sometimes we could get enough to fill the back of a truck. One year, we couldn’t fill even one basket. I knew we could do better.

What Denise suggested was completely different. We would hold an all-day event, inviting people to come put a bag of groceries on a seat. Without hesitation, I said, “Yes, we’re doing that!” Then, I said, “I should probably talk to someone else about it, but we’re in!” And so a collaboration was born between The Music Hall and Gather. Lots of hard work and thought from both teams, loads of volunteers, and a massive community turnout all go into making that event happen. 

That first year we got five tons of food, this June we got 26,000 pounds of food and $75,000 in cash donations for Meals 4 Kids, Gather’s summer meals program which is feeding more kids for longer through the pandemic. It is truly an inspiring event, and it highlights that even here, in the affluent seacoast community, there are those who don’t know where their next meal is coming from, and no kid should dread summer vacation because they don’t know if they can eat. 

This event embodies the principles and values that this organization is based on and that have helped me build a life here at The Music Hall. 

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