#Komahina fluff

[snowcapmt]

ITS GAY MONTH

[frickingnerd]

love triangle with hajime & nagito

pairing: hajime hinata x gn!reader x nagito komaeda

tags: jealousy (mutual), the boys trash talking each other, fights/arguments, ultimate!reader, reserve course student!hajime

while the two boys fight over your heart, hajime is the civil one, while nagito is willing to do whatever it takes to make you choose him

hajime really wants to play fair and he wants you to choose the boy your feelings are stronger for

however, seeing how willing nagito is to play dirty does bug hajime and he keeps finding himself tempted to use the same tricks to win you over that nagito uses

nagito talks badly about hajime towards you, constantly reminding you that he's a mere reserve course student, while the two of you are ultimates

he wants you to know that you two are better and that you only deserve the best! and while he might not be the best, he's at least better than some commoner who bought his way into a prestigious school

hajime finds himself using a similar technique against nagito, reminding you of how cruel the boy is to commoners like him and how you shouldn't settle for a mean boy like nagito

you deserve someone nice, someone who treats all people equally! sure, he didn't have an ultimate talent to offer, but he could love you more than anyone else in the world could! 

aside from all that, both of the boys are really jealous! 

usually hajime isn't the jealous type, but nagito just hits a nerve for him and he can't help but feel his blood boil when he sees nagito get all cozy with you! 

and nagito doesn't feel much different! 

whenever he sees you be friendly towards hajime, he feels like throwing up! you were simply too kind, wasting your kindness on a nobody like hajime…

nagito loves to make hajime jealous on purpose, trying to let you see how your favorite reserve course gets so upset whenever nagito just does as much as hug you or compliment you

honestly, the two are constantly at each other's throat, arguing because of you – and often even in front of you! 

you better pick one of them quickly, before they end up hurting each other in some stupid fight one of these days…

[ultraviolet-psyche]

bright – komahina drabble

AO3 Upload

-

Nagito wakes to the sight of heterochromatic eyes; one green, one red. He’s never seen so much hope in another’s eyes before. It reminds him of the one he–

Wait.

That is the one he loves.

Well, partially, but no matter; his presence is enough.

He doesn't know what's going on, or where he is, or why Hajime and Izuru now occupy the same body, but he’s hardly concerned. Hajime is smiling, extending his hand like Nagito had done for him. If Hajime is smiling, then surely, hope will triumph.

Nagito gives him his hand, his trust and his heart.

[mars-ipan]

some postgame doodles for pride month

[dansconcepts]

Balloons

A (not so) little Komahina drabble with a Kyouko (and hints of Naegiri) preamble based on this interaction from the Danganronpa Summer Camp game (and yes I 100% bought it and for full price because I'm really silly but I'm so committed for the interactions like JSKAJSKSKA I want them to be happy so bad):

Hajime: You make the flower petals like this, attach the stem… and there ya go, done! Kyouko: Huh, you're surprisingly dexterous. Kyouko: Would you mind if I took this flower? Hajime: Sure, no problem at all. Kyouko: Thanks. Keep up the good work. Kyouko exits. Hajime: I know it's a fake flower, but… giving it to a girl is still kinda embarrassing. Hajime: And to Kyouko, no less. I hope she doesn't tell the boys that she got it from me…

The detective thumbs at the rubbery material, indeed appreciating Hajime’s workmanship. He truly does seem capable of plenty, even if it was like a jack of all trades. But oftentimes is better than a master of one. She retorts her silent conjecture. And indeed, it shows in the way his determination seems to spark around people who are motivated in their passions.

It is just like the creation of this flower. The happy yellow it sprouts reminds her of a certain classmate. She has no need to act coy to herself, it is prevalent to her that her emotions have strayed to a place she never anticipated them to go.

Makoto Naegi, the Ultimate Luck. He has shown time and time again he was more than such a title. Every time he asks questions, remarks on a viewpoint she hadn’t considered, provides patience and calmness when she is unable to compose herself quickly enough… he was endearing and dependable, the type that she can’t help but be drawn to in the midst of the chaos that was her detective duties.

Perhaps she will present this flower to Makoto. It may not be overly affectionate, but she knows Makoto enjoys small acts with messages as simple as “being thought about”. It’s an idea to scoff at, with his easy going personality being the most digestible compared to her fellow classmates. He is, quite often, considered by everyone as the de facto leader of their class the moment he stepped up in second year. His development was quite admirable and impressive. Everyday, he will be greeted by everyone and talked to in one way or the other.

In that sense, it is easier to dismiss his more anxious side, melancholic and self-loathing. Although caring for others is not very easy for her despite the strides being taken by her classmates, there is something about Makoto that makes her feel adequate in giving him an ear to listen to rather than forcing physical affection.

“Kirigiri?” A soft voice pushes through her reverie. Lavender eyes trail up to stark white hair, and a more casual outfit than she has ever seen him wearing. It reflects the setting of the festival however, and she endeavours to say as much-

“I apologize for interrupting you with my presence. I know you must have more important matters than looking upon trash like me,” Kyouko’s mouth closes. Nothing has prepared her to treat this sudden situation. She is aware of Komaeda’s low self-esteem and the way it manifests, but she has never been on its receiving end and is uncertain how to proceed. Komaeda continues on regardless, “I saw this flower balloon had flown out of your hands and I managed to get it back in one piece. How lucky!”

Indeed, in his hand is the yellow flower balloon that she must have let go of during her musings. She takes it from him and nods. “Thank you Komaeda.”

He beams. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all, I’m very happy to help. It’s really the least I could do for an Ult- for such an admirable person.”

She notices the intentional slipping of the word “Ultimate”, but does not make any move to indicate her recognition of it. Clearly, it was a habit of his he was trying to stop, if his behaviour is any indication.

“Although," Komaeda says, "I did find it strange you had a balloon with you.”

“Hinata is the one making them. Although his repertoire was limited, he does what he offers quite well.”

The Ultimate Lucky student hums, turning his head back in the direction of where Hinata’s table was. “Really now? How fascinating.” He looks to the ground, and she wonders what he is pondering about.

She remembers seeing them together often, albeit in passing. She notes that their position relative to the celebration is quite distant, out closer to the beach, but still close enough to see most of the attractions. Hmm… “From what I observed, he still has about half a package of balloons left. I’m quite certain you can get one from him.”

Kyouko studies the way Komaeda turns to her warily. She has a hunch now though, and she states, “He would gladly give you one, regardless of what occurs. I think he will appreciate a more familiar presence supporting him.”

Some emotions seem to dart across Komaeda’s face, but she cannot process them all in time before it settles. He sighs. “Ah, I suppose you figured me out. As expected of the Ultimate Detective!” He praises. She sees the way he glances back to the festival tents. “I suppose I can pay a friend a visit.”

She allows herself a smile, hoping it comes off as encouraging. “Good luck.”

He laughs. “I sure hope I'll have it.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Nagito hugs himself loosely, clutching onto the soft fabric enveloping him as he walks past stands and tents. He looks around, biting his lip. A sigh inevitably escapes, much like his resolve always does.

He listens. Chatter, laughter- so much, so loud... But no cries or sobs. No cracks of wood or thumps of metal. And most thankfully, no screams. Regardless, he checks around him anyway. His presence here can change so many things. He can bring so much despair just by simply existing. Why did he possibly come in here again?

A glimpse of spiky brown hair and a familiar tie fills his vision. Right. It always traces back to Hajime.

The Reserve Course student goes to finish up shaping a red balloon into a flower, and hands it over to the Ultimate Astronaut, although his name escapes him. He can hear the “Awesome!” all the way from where he's standing, which is kind of impressive. The man makes his way to the Ultimate Caregiver, who he immediately tries giving the flower to. She looks pleased. Yet, she shouts “Do you want to die!?” so maybe he misread her?

Nagito turns back to Hajime, who’s already gesturing to him to come over. “Hey!” He smiles. “Didn’t expect to see you here!”

He frowns. “I know that my presence isn’t deserved around U-.”

“Okay, shut the fuck up. You know I’m just glad you’re out here. How are you enjoying it so far?”

“Ah. What if I said I only came to see you?” He can’t help but tease. Hajime’s ears, as predicted, turn red.

“You can’t be serious. Out of everyone else?” that are Ultimates isn't spoken, but heavily implied.

“Now who’s the one who needs to stop talking about status?” He teases.

“H-hey! I didn't even say anything!” Hajime coughs. “I know what you’re doing. Don’t change the subject.”

Nagito hums. “I’m not joking though, I did come here because of you. Kirigiri told me you made her flower balloon and I just had to see what that was about.”

Upon sharing that info, Hajime averts his gaze, clearly blushing. How interesting…

He feels tempted to smirk, but doesn't in favour of sounding noncommittal, “Something wrong about what I said, Hajime?”

“Nope, nothing.” He trails off. “…You don’t think she’s told anyone else, do you?”

Nagito crosses his arms. Why would Hajime care? Is he embarrassed? How silly. He eyes the bag of balloons and lets out an amused puff. “Well, it certainly benefitted you if she did, considering you’ve emptied the whole bag.” The sigh escapes him before he can stop it. He didn’t even realize he wanted a balloon before it was taken away.

Just his luck. How disappointing.

“Huh?" Hajime asks. "It’s empty?”

He swiftly lifts the bag. "Aha!" He calls out triumphantly. Turns out, under the opaque portion of the packaging sits a deflated green balloon.

Nagito grins. “How lucky!”

Hajime responds with a smirk. He adds as much air as possible to the balloon, and when satisfied, says, “Alright, I know you’re going to make fun of me, but I can only manage a flower and a dog. Which one do you want?”

Although he probably would’ve been quick to tease Hajime about his skills “befitting a Reserve Course student”, the mention of a dog makes the words freeze on his tongue.

“A dog would be nice.” Nagito admits.

“Oh, sure.” Hajime says, a little disconcerted by the honesty, and his eyebrows are furrowed. Adorable. He doesn’t know how Hajime isn’t an Ultimate. In a way, he almost likes that he isn’t.

Within a few minutes of tanned hands twisting and turning rubber, he is finally presented with a cute little dog.

The ends of his lips tug upwards. He gently grabs the balloon, being extra careful to transport it into his arms.

“This is wonderful.” He says breathily.

Hajime looks at Nagito, bemused. “Your eyes are sparkling. I’ve never seen you so happy.” And almost as if it was an afterthought, he adds, “It looks good on you.”

What? “H-huh?”

“It seriously can’t be that surprising. It’s… nice to see you happy. Not that you don’t already look nice! You tied your hair and even wore a jinbei for the festival. You’re looking pretty good.”

The lucky student just stares at Hajime, who grows steadily more red under the gaze. The Reserve Course student swipes his hand through the air, as if that'll somehow dispel the flurry of thoughts going through his head. “Alright, what’s with that look?”

“I’m glad you think I look ‘good’, Hajime." He starts, "I wasn’t trying to impress anyone, much less someone like yourself, but I see your eyes would be more used to seeing trash in your everyday life and thinking it’s beautiful.”

Hajime stares him down. “Nagito, anyone at this camp would agree you’re good-looking. And I know you’re just saying that shit about me being a Reserve Course because you’re spiraling a little bit.” Ah. He looks at the ground. “Hey, it’s fine. We kinda talked about this, remember? I know we’re friends.”

He doesn’t reply. How could he? To be read so easily…

A warm hand grabs his shoulder. His gaze immediately whips to Hajime's face. “D-don’t think too much about this." A flustered Hajime spits out. "Let’s just go. We’re going around and enjoying this damn festival together.”

How is Hajime Hinata real?

“Is this your way of getting a date, Hajime?” He says playfully instead. “You could have just asked, you know. I’m sure Chiaki- or anyone else really- would not have declined.”

Hajime gives a raised eyebrow at the mention of Chiaki, but doesn’t seem to press it. Instead, he goes, “I’d rather be here with you, to be honest. I said it already, but it’s nice to have you out here. I might as well enjoy it while I can.”

Nagito shuts up at that. While judging Hajime the whole time, his face isn't any better, probably looking crimson at this point.

“And you dropped this.” Hajime waves the green balloon dog that ended up in his hands. The Ultimate blinks, surprised he had let go of it. However, the wind picks it out of Hajime’s hand and starts carrying it on its currents.

“Shit!” Hajime exclaims. He jumps, but it flies out of his reach.

“Fuck! I’m sorry Nagito, I didn’t mean to lose it.”

He easily waves it off with a chuckle. “No, it’s alright. Besides, you could always make another one.”

“I mean, honestly, this was pretty fun." Hajime admits, "I wouldn’t mind doing it again…”

And Hajime trails off, and he knows exactly why, considering he’s leaned in in that cutesy way he’s seen girls in dramas do. He smirks at Hajime’s bewildered face. While amused, he backs off, as if it was merely an accidental brush.

He sends him an innocent smile. Olive eyes narrow in response, but they face forward again in silent acceptance. It would be quite impressive, if Hajime’s face wasn’t flushed.

“There’s a restaurant here. You’re coming with me.”

He nods happily.

Things could always be worse because of my luck, but for some reason I feel like, perhaps, I'll be okay. But can I hope? Do I dare hope?

Nothing hurts more than hope getting crushed.

…But maybe…

Maybe this is worth it.

[wenchpop]

I was surprised to see heaven in your eyes

I never once was treated right, you're what I'm missing in my life

[mayashesfly]

Thinking about hpa komahina and imagining

What if komahina ends up being friends? So much so that Nagito forgot about the danger of his luck because he can act just like a normal teenager with Hajime. And Hajime too in return knowing that Nagito's opinion of him won't be change even if he acts more childish than mature for his age.

But when Natsumi and Sato died, Nagito remembered just how easy it is for ordinary people to be struck down by his luck.

He forgot how easy it is for those he loves to be taken away. Sato and Natsumi was in Hajime's class. And so...

Even when Hajime was already at his lowest, the despair of the two deaths being swept away, Nagito pushed him away.

Pushed him away in the only way he knows how.

Hurting him with his sharp words so he leaves him.

Leaves Hope's Peak to return to an ordinary life.

Without him.

It's for the best, so his luck won't hurt him.

So that he won't be the one that died next.

Hajime doesn't understand.

He thought they were already over this reserve course bullshit... and even when Natsumi and Sato died he's suddenly yapping all this bullshit again? What the fuck Komaeda? Why... Why now? I can't take this anymore.

Tey fought. Unsaid fear, guilt, concern, care and love twisting through the stifling air of despair into frustration, confusion, and anger.

Biting words digging deep into scars and wounds.

And in the end, Nagito succeeded in pushing him away.

Hajime running to get away from him.

From the pressure of the reserve course.

From the pain of being ordinary.

From being talentless.

That was the last time Nagito saw Hajime.

[writinganddyinginside]

Would’ve Been Yesterday, But

Dangnaronpa Drabble

Word Count: 778.

Ships: Nagito Komaeda/Hajime Hinata.

CW

Death

Credits

Banner: PNGs from @/liltingaway, @/pommecita, @/aqualogia, @/poemale, @/boofinator, and @/nightmarereverie.

Divider: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Heavily inspired by Tazz’s concept, a scene of a random movie I remember, and a fanfic I’ve mostly forgotten.

See on other platforms: [Twitter] [AO3]

The house was loud from the noises of the kitchen. The water runs in the sink. A saucy dish simmers with low and heavy pops. Most of the noise comes from Komaeda, kneading dough into a bowl; it tilts and clatters and clanks as he pushes his whole body weight into manipulating the dough. 

When Hinata finally clues himself into what all the sound is, he immediately stops what he’s doing with the dish he’s rinsing.

“Nagito,” he speaks, quickly dreading the possibility of the whole bowl hitting the floor. “You can put it on the counter. You don’t have to beat it into the bowl like that.”

The bowl continues to scrape and slip on the countertop. Komaeda mutters low, “It’ll stick… It doesn’t stick to this…” He huffs and almost knocks the wind out of himself. Hinata can hear him tunnel visioning, nearly tussling with this bread dough, while he reaches for the flour somewhere on the other side of the kitchen. They have to make more space on the counter to spread some flour around without immediately disturbing their strangely energetic husband. 

Komaeda lets Hinata guide his hands, tilting the bowl and scooping the dough onto the coated surface. “If you put flour under it, it won’t stick. And then you don’t have to fight with the dishes.”

Komaeda only chuckles. He goes back to kneading the dough, green and floral cover up sleeves catching a dusting of flour when he presses down with all he has. He’s just smiling. 

Hinata watches for a captivating moment.

Komaeda’s portion is a third of Hinata’s. Hinata finishes first. They wait for him.

They made the bread last, because Komaeda found it more enjoyable than any dessert, for some reason. Hinata isn’t as excited, but eats it while their husband hums a song they’ve nearly forgotten.

Hinata rests on the sofa. His eyes are closed when the grainy and crackly sound of old music begins to play out loud. And they open to the movement of their husband, still dirty with flour, spinning and stepping rhythmically around the room. Komaeda only smiles and laughs as he makes eye-contact with Hinata, gliding past with just enough of a pause to grab and kiss the back of their hand. Nagito liked this song, Hinata guessed. They’d never heard it before.

“Hajime, come on.”

Hinata opens their eyes again. Komaeda’s pulling at their arm with more might than they expect. With the smallest of huffs they stand from their seat, adjusting their clothes along the way to the middle of the living room floor.

Hinata remembers only a few basic steps from the dances Komaeda once taught him. They try to get the frailer man to do those steps, and he refuses.

So Hinata stumbles on his feet trying to follow along and keep up, which Komaeda also finds funny and laughs at. Hinata gets over his embarrassment and confusion, only because Komaeda laughs.

Komaeda lies flat on his back in bed. Hinata curls around him, side of his head resting on Komaeda’s chest. The bedroom’s clock ticks in his right ear. 

“Thank you, Hajime.” A few days ago, Komaeda would have hesitated to say Hinata’s first name. Today, he’s sure they’re his husband.

Hinata’s forehead is lightly pressed against Komaeda’s wedding band on a necklace chain and he can feel it making an indent in his skin. He fidgets and spins the band around his own finger. Clock ticking in his right ear, Komaeda’s heartbeat in his left ear.

“For what?”

“Today.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for. I didn’t give you today.”

“Then who did?”

He doesn’t know. 

The clock ticks in his right ear. Komaeda’s heart beats in his left. 

He defaults to, “Just rest well, Nagito.” Mumbled into the paler man’s skin. “You did a lot today.”

Komaeda pets their hair. “Because you gave me today.” Hinata doesn’t find it serious, but doesn’t comment either way. The sound of Komaeda’s fingers lightly scratching his scalp resonates through his skull for a moment, and then silences.

“Good night, Nagito. I love you,” Hinata finally manages. Komaeda doesn’t say anything.

Clock ticking in his right ear.

Hinata revels in the light pressure Komaeda’s hand puts on his head. 

Ticking in his right ear. 

Suddenly his stomach drops and his throat tightens. But his mind is so clear. 

Ticking in his right ear. 

This is what he was listening for. 

The clock ticking in his right ear.

[lakes-writting-rambles]

#1-1 mlb x sdr2 crossover

words: 3425

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

( Nagito pov )

'Hajime Hinata... it's a pretty name. And weirdly fits into the class, no one has a particularly "french name" huh..-' 

"Pleasure to meet you, Hajime" I offer my hand, he takes it, shakes it and soon after lets go. 

'I should probably stay away from him, he deserves a chance to fit in with the class, everyone hates me and will probably hate him by association.'

"Now, Hajime, how did you convince your parents to transfer here?" Chiaki says - I can't tell if she's excited, mad or curious, maybe a mix...? 

"Well, it did take some time but my main "argument" was that you were here and you could help me study or something similar." he says in a pretty normal tone, then he sighs and starts sounding sad/disappointed. "I guess they also let me come here so I could have "fEmInInE fRiEnDsHiPs" that could help "fix" me..." 

'what does he mean by that...?'

"I swear I'll punch them if they say shit like this again."

'woah, don't think i've ever seen Chiaki cuss before'

"At least they didn't..." Hajime pauses. He's confused for a second, then he looks at me "ah, nevermind ... I forgot you were here... sorry..." 

'... I got in the way of their conversation. I only bother people, I should apologize for staring, my lowly self is in no place to get involved with them.'

"Ah, no, don't apologize. I was probably intruding. You can continue, I'll mind my own business. Trash like me shouldn't overhear anything, my deepest apologies."

( Hajime pov ) 

"You're not trash... you seem nice just - this is just an awkward topic to talk about in front of someone i just met" i say trying not to sound rude.

'he'd probably hate me if he knew anyway, i'll talk to Chiaki during lunch break...' 

"It's okay, I get it, it seems personal." 

As Nagito says that 2 more people walk in, a short blond and a pink haired person. 16 people now, me included. Every site is taken.

Chiaki looks at the people who just arrived.

"Well talk about it during lunch, but Hajime you don't have to worry, no one here would judge." 

'is Chiaki serious? Last time I told someone I was trans it spread around and I was left behind even by my closest friend. I don't want to risk it so soon'

"Chiaki i told you what happened last time, i'm not sure if it's a good idea-"

"I swear, it's fine Hajime, there are other-"

"Chiaki, new student, sorry to interrupt, but you can talk during lunch" the redhead teacher says, she's nice. Nicer than my previous teachers at least. "Now, new student, do you mind coming here for a second? It'd be nice if you could introduce yourself to the rest of the class."

I follow her to the front of the classroom. Everyone's eyes are on me. 

"So, what's your name? And do you mind sharing your pronouns?"

'This is it, if I pass well enough there won't be any scandalous reactions... if i don't... let's not think about it...'

"Ah... okay. My name's Hajime Hinata, he/him... nice to meet you" My heart almost pops out of my chest as i wait for their reaction. 

"Nice to meet you Hajime" a girl with hair as red as a tomato says. A few other people join in. Saying things like "is your hair like that normally or did you do it on purpose?" or "You're probably as much of a lost case as pig barf" and "Woah you were talking to Chiaki, are you guys dating?".

'they're nice enough - anything is better than my old classmates i guess' 

"..." - Chiaki looks uncomfortable, maybe she feels bad for me? - "Guys let him breathe"

"Right-! Ibuki is sorry!"

"I don't really mind, I just think this is interrupting class, isn't it ... miss...?" I look at the teacher trying to figure out her name.

"Miss Bustier, and don't worry, first period can be used for you to start getting to know each other."

"Oh, if it's okay then..-"

Then, one person in the middle row gets up and extends their hand. 

"Byakuya Togami, they/them." - I grab their hand and shake it, their grasp is quite firm. 

"Pleasure to meet you."

"Me and Chiaki were class representatives last year, so it still feels like a duty to talk to new students."

"I see, well, thank you anyway."

'They/them huh... i guess Chiaki was right, i mean she normally is but, i don't know how the others feel about it and ... yeah, i'll just wait.'

We drop the handshake and they go back to their seats, next to the energetic person from earlier, who called themselves "Ibuki". 

'Should i go around introducing myself or...?'  - Chiaki notices me just standing there like an idiot and approaches.

"You know they don't bite, right?"

"Yeah, I'm just a bit nervous, that's all."

"Fair enough, I can go with you if you'd like." - She smiles softly.

"Sure"

She takes my hand and drags me to the person with pink hair seated next to Nagito.

"Hey man, I'm Kazuichi Soda, he/him." - the boy says with a grin - "don't flirt with Miss Sonia! I already have my eyes on her!" 

"Oh ... sure-"

"He's obsessed with Sonia and likes to play mechanic" Chiaki gives a short explanation. 

"Hey! I don't PLAY mechanic, i AM a mechanic!" Kazuichi complains. 

Chiaki is already taking me to the second table where we found a short blond person from earlier and a gray haired one with braids who I hadn't paid attention to. The blond was sitting on the corridor seat and the one with braided hair was near the window. 

"Hey, the name's Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, he/him" The blond says. 

"...Wait - Kuzuryuu-?" - 'Is he Natsumi's brother..?'  - "This might seem random, but do you have a sister?"

"Huh? I do, why does that matter?"

"Ah, nothing, I just used to study with your sister, we're friends, though, I don’t think she’d admit it."

"Weird, my sister never mentioned any one named Hajime, but she did mention -" He stops for a bit, thinks and lets out an "oh- wow i didn’t recognize you at all-”.

'i'm so fucking stupid - i can't keep my mouth shut even if my life depended on it.'

Trying to change the focus of the conversation I look at the one with braided hair.

"Peko Pekoyama, she/they." She responds, noticing I'm staring.

"Oh, nice meeting you guys, hope we can have a good school year" we walk away - 'i don't talk like that what the hell- Chiaki is gonna make fun of me in 3... 2... 1...'  

"What was that? You never talk like that" - Chiaki says chuckling.

"Haha, very funny. I was nervous - can you blame me?"

"Fair enough I guess..." She yawns and takes me to the next row, where I see another blond and a... person with hamsters-? Why do they have hamsters-?

The blond is the first to speak up. 

"Hello, I am Sonia Nevermind, she/her. And as the princess of Novoselic I must welcome you with all my might! I hope you feel comfortable here in our class!" 

Then the person with hamsters speaks up.

"Peasant! You shall feel welcomed here! For I, the great demon Gundham Tanaka, he/they, welcome you to the highest ranking class!" - 'I don't know what i was expecting but this wasn't it.'

"Thanks...!" I try smiling but this is awkward, luckily, Chiaki pulls me away before i could fuck up.

Next row, we're back to "our side" of the classroom. A Person with messy looking purple hair and someone with brown curly hair and a darker skin tone sit chatting.

"Hey hey, Mikan, Akane.." she uses her head to point at me. I don't know which is which, so I just awkwardly wave and whisper a "hi".

"O-oh hello Hajime, I-i'm Mikan Tsumiki, she/they." The one with messy hair says. 

"And I'm Akane Owari, she/her, nice to meetcha!" The one with curly hair says shortly after.

"Sorry girls, we only have a few more minutes and 5 more people to talk to, I'm sure he'd love to talk to you later though." - 'she sounds a bit mad, i guess she's mad about my parents only letting me come because it could maybe make me "go back", like hell that's happening...'

We turn around and I see "Ibuki" and the previous class rep.

"Oh oh! Hey Hajime! Ibuki's name is Ibuki! She's a She/Her but doesn't mind any other pronouns! Nice to meet you!"

"This is Ibuki Mioda, she really likes writing and playing songs. Though they don't really match her personality ... which, I guess would be the best fit..." Chiaki looks lost in thought, I should probably talk to them before going to the next rows.

Byakuya just gives me a nod.

"Nice meeting you both"

"Ibuki is glad she finally met Hajime! Chiaki talks about you a lot!" - I turn to look at Chiaki, she doesn't seem embarrassed, and looks like she's still thinking about Ibuki's song writing.

'Doesn't seem like she told them anything weird...'

"Wait, really-? ...Anyway we should get going for now, but we can talk more during lunch" I grab Chiaki's hand and slightly pull her to the seats by the back of the class, she snaps out of her thoughts and yawns. 

"I didn't say anything weird if you're wondering" 

"Yeah, i guessed it" 

We take a few steps in silence. When we get to the table, yet ANOTHER blond is there, alongside the tomato-like short haired one from earlier.

"Sorry about earlier, i'm Mahiru Koizumi, she/her." The redhead says with a comforting smile on her face.

'She has freckles, that's pretty.'

Then I turn to the blond, who seems to be irritated.

'Why do all blonds have such strong personalities-?'

"Soooo.... Chiaki, are you dating him? He looks like a creep, I bet he takes advantage of you while you sleep." - ' ... is she serious-?!'  - I look at Chiaki, who yawns.

"Hiyoko, I'm not dating Hajime, and he'd never do that."

"Seriously Hiyoko? Already pestering the new student?"

She starts tearing up and sniffling.

"... Whaaaaaaa!! Don't get mad at me..! I was only worried for Chiaki!" She continues crying. - 'God - where did she get that lung capacity - this is so loud-' 

No one in class seems to mind, seems like this is a common occurrence ... I'm not looking forward to that.

"..."

"It's okay, Hiyoko, just stop messing with him."

"Are you sure big sis Mahiru..?" - Mahiru looks at me and I reluctantly nod.

"Yeah, Hajime says it's fine."

In the blink of an eye her expression changes and she giggles. 

"I can't believe you fell for those fake tears, you're all such pushovers pfft."

Chiaki pouts and drags me to the final desk. There I see a tall muscly masc presenting a person with blue hair, not like that's their major feature tho - seriously how did they gain so much muscle mass? By their side, I see a short chubby person, they have brown hair and some sort of sidecut.

"I am NEKOMARU NIDAI! Mostly use he/him pronouns but I'm fine with anything. Please also introduce yourself loud and clear!!" - the muscly guy says.

"ah- i'm Hajime Hianta, he/him, pleasure to meet you"

"You look a bit scrawny, how much do you eat daily? Do you sleep well? What does your shit look like?"

"Wha-"

"Nekomaru... i think you're scaring Hajime '' - Chiaki says, yawning once again.

'Did she even sleep yesterday-?'

"Shit man- sorry, just want to make sure my classmates are in top shape!"

"I-it's okay"

"Aham, bonjour, monsieur Hajime" - the short person says. - "I hate to interrupt your conversation, but I'd like to introduce myself."

"Oh, i'm sorry-"

"I don't mind, my name's Teruteru Hanamura, he/him pronouns, but don't mind they/them. I'd like to get to know ya, clothes are optional~"

"Uhh- pleasure to meet you, i'll be keeping my clothes, thanks."

"What a shame"

"..." - 'well... this class… eccentric- to say the least' - "Uhh...- I think I heard from Chiaki that you cook? Do you have any favorite type of cooking?"

"Not really, why limit my possibilities? I cook a bit of everything'"

"Yeah! Teruteru is a great cook! His cooking is very nutricional too." - Nekomaru chimes in.

"I think you mean "chef". But, monsieur, If you'd like, I could bring you some of my cooking."

"Wouldn't it be too bothersome?"

"Nonsense! Why would I cook if not to satisfy people? I'd be throwing my hard work away if I didn't get my classmate to taste it. Either way, I intended on bringing food for everyone tomorrow."

"If you say so-" 

The bell rings. I turn around to see Miss Bustier, she leans on her desk and puts her clipboard. - "Class! Sit down please! You can chat with Hajime during break, let's focus on class for now, alright?"

"Such a shame, see you later, mon ami." - Teruteru says, grabbing his tablet.

I feel Chiaki pull on my sleeve.

"Hey hey, let's go" - she takes me back to our seats, I see Nagito looking at us.

I hadn't noticed this before, but his expression is almost unreadable, even if he has a calming vibe, kind of unsettling.

"Hope your tour went well, Hajime." - Nagito smiles. That calming smile again, I can't help but smile back.

"Yeah, it went pretty great, this class is ... eccentric" - not sure if that was the right thing to say, but now it's done.

"I guess you're right, hah" 

Lunch break finally arrives and I'm starving. I grab my bag and check for my lunch.

"Uhhm... Hajime, we serve food here." - Chiaki says, looking over my shoulders.

"Huh-? But i thought-" - 'well, that info would've been useful this morning'

"Yeah... you can eat the food you brought if you'd like, but it must be cold by now..."

"I guess so... You could've told me this sooner-"

"Well, I didn't know you'd transfer here."

"Touché-"

"I apologize for interrupting, but would you mind if I had lunch with you?" - Nagito says. - 'Damn, he's super quiet- what the hell-'  - "I understand if you think i'm too disgusting to be around-"

"Shut up, Nagito, of course you can have lunch with us..." - Chiaki pauses to yawn - "...we just have to talk about something private first, then we'll join you, okay?" 

Chiaki gives him one of her soft smiles, they're really comforting, I hope it reassures Nagito.

( Nagito pov )

'They're being polite, how wonderful of them. But trash should know its place, they're probably gonna ditch me'.  

"Hmmm... Hajime, i didn't want to say anything, but, you looked a bit pale while talking to the class" - i say - "not like trash like me can say anything, though". 

He becomes as pale as he was during introductions. - 'Of course, i fucked everything up again, typical me'.

( Chiaki pov ) 

"It's about the thing we need to talk about in private" - I say, Hajime seems to calm down a bit, he gets kinda jumpy, can't blame him, last time must've been awful if his color just drained on the spot. - "We really need to go if we wanna have lunch, Nagito, can you save us a table?" 

"Of course, Chiaki" - Nagito says, that same smile he always has on his face showing. I sometimes wonder why he smiles so much. He has self-deprecative tendencies so I doubt he's happy all the time. It would be insensitive to ask, though, so I just ignore those thoughts. 

'Hajime is kinda blunt when you know him well enough... I wonder how long it'll take for him to ask Nagito. 

"Want me to grab you guys something to eat as well?" 

"Just grab me an apple" - I respond - "I'm not really hungry, also, there's an event happening today in one of my favorite games, can't lose it".

"And you, Hajime?" - Nagito asks, he seems happy to meet Hajime.

"Ah- i can't ask you to buy me lunch- I didn't bring money and-"

"Don't worry about it, money's not an issue and it would be an honor to help out Chiaki's friend". 

"No, no, it's okay, I brought some food from home, not as tasty as it would've been earlier but...-"

"Hajime wants today's special, an apple and orange juice".

"Chiaki you can't just order Nagito around-"

"I'm not, '' he offered, “and I won't let you eat that cold tasteless food". 

"Yeah, Chiaki's not ordering me around or anything, and even if she was, it would be an honor" - Nagito keeps putting the class on a pedestal, or maybe he just thinks he's too lowly or something, I don’t know, I just don't like it. It’s a bit uncomfortable but it has gotten better recently, maybe it has something to do with Miss Bustier and her more… well, caring teaching, I guess…

I yawn. Both Hajime and Nagito look at me. - “Chiaki, when did you sleep last night? You slept as soon as I ended the call… right-?” - Hajime asked, not like I could hear him, tho- too sleepy…

‘Oh crap - I haven't talked to Hajime’. - “Hey hey, Nagito, Hajime and I will be right back.” - I grab  Hajime's hand and take him 

“Of course Chiaki! If any of you need anything from me I’ll be…” - he looks around for a bit - “...probably sitting in that table... on the corner, like usual - heh…” - he then proceeds to walk away heading towards the self-service part of the cafeteria. 

( Nagito pov )

‘I overstayed my welcome, didn’t I? Of course I did, who am I kidding? Certainly not myself.’ - as I walk away I turn around to see them one last time. They are walking side by side in a kind of awkward side hug. I feel a bit creepy and bothered staring like this so i just go towards the food section.

After grabbing everything, I head towards the table, sit and wait.

( Hajime pov ) 

As Chiaki takes me to whatever secluded place she's thinking of, i wonder if i’m being stupid worrying like this. I mean, Chiaki didn’t care and she knew me pre-transition… or well, whatever I've been able to pull off at this moment. 

“You know, Hajime…” - she speaks in an almost whisper - “I've said no one would judge and I mean it.” - she drops the hug - “You don’t have to come out or anything to anyone but don’t worry about mentioning it or i don’t know, joking about it. Gundham is an enby-trans guy, Ibuki is genderfluid, Byakuya is intersex and agender, Peko is a demigirl and… uhh… the list goes on, i guess…” 

“Oh-”

“Also, you outed yourself to Fuyuhiko and Peko, so…” - Chiaki yawns again. 

“Urg don’t remind me- he’s probably gonna talk to Natsumi about it too- and she’s gonna be all… well, Natsumi about it.”

“Oh?”

“She’s not gonna be transphobic or anything, I’m pretty sure, at least- but she’s for sure gonna start sayin’ some shit like ‘are you fucking serious Hajime?!?! Why didn’t you tell me, you fucking moron?????’ or something. And I just don't feel like dealing with that.”

“Wait if she’s not transphobic, why didn’t you tell her?”

“She still kind of talks to our old classmates - and not only that but i forgot too and just got anxious whenever i'm about to do it-”

“Fair, fair…”

“This chat… was a hell of a lot shorter than I expected- shouldn't we go talk to Nagito or something? I feel kinda bad for just essentially telling him to fuck off - i feel like he has low self-esteem and- yeah-”

“Mhm… Don’t worry, he understands. But I get what you mean, and yeah he has some… concerning tendencies. It’s gotten better since Miss Bustier started teaching us, tho-” 

( Nagito pov )

‘This is… kind of awkward… What should I look at..? There isn’t much to do…’ - I start fiddling with the napkin that I grabbed alongside our lunches. - 'I can't eat without them, that'd be rude... even trash like me knows basic ethics'.

Something tells me to look at the door, maybe intuition or anxiety, although it's probably just my luck - I can’t tell the difference at this point, and they seemed to be heading here.

‘When they said private chat i thought it would take longer… or maybe be an excuse to ditch me… But they aren’t that kind of people, I'm sure … please shut up, brain, this is very annoying to you.’

I get up, wave at them, and smile.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

chp. 0 > chp. 1 pt 1 > chp. 1 pt 2 > chp. 1 pt 3

[accidentallyatekneecaps]

Someone write more komahina omegaverse (something wrong with me in the brain)

[courtesanmango]

New fic is up!!

Kintsugi in Harmony: twenty separate vignettes chronicling the relationship of Nagito Komaeda, Chiaki Nanami, and Hajime Hinata. Set post-dr3 in an alternate universe where everything is the same except Chiaki lives.

Relationship(s): Komaeda/Hinata, Komaeda/Nanami, Hinata/Nanami, Hinata/Komaeda/Nanami

Tags: Polyamory, Slice of Life, Slight Angst, Happy Ending, No Smut, Relationship Negotiation, Fluff (seriously so much fluff)

[w1s3ria]

Holiday beta komahina doodle bc i said so

They(beta nagito) finally mustered the courage,

the aftermath <3

They<33

the aftermath pt 2 <33

[draconicsparkle]

A very happy birthday to the precious boys!!! I’m always happy to spoil them rotten.

Nagizuru au creatures ~ probably their most normal drawings ever.

🩶

Today marks one year since I made my first Nagizuru post. I never thought I would love this beast so much. Thank you all so much for enjoying this au!

Here you have a small lighthearted fic written by @draconicsparkle as a gift. It's not connected to the original story, just them celebrating a regular birthday. They spoil them too much! ⬇️⬇️

How long had it been since then? So long. Both the creation date and their escapes. But in a strange way, Hajime was glad they had experienced all those hardships and difficult times. For without them, the two of them wouldn’t appreciate the bliss they were living in nearly as much.

Hajime thought this as his one working eye stared out the window in the small kitchen. The garden was visible from here, where all kinds of flowers and plants were growing. Gardening was one of Izuru’s many talents, after all. It would be odd if it wasn’t growing splendidly.

A small smile grew as he recalled the many hours they had spent sitting in the gazebo they had built in the middle of the garden, sandwiches and lemonade in hand while the butterflies and bees flew by.

But today wouldn’t be spent in the garden. No, Hajime had other plans. Hence why he was in the kitchen earlier in the morning. Izuru was still in their bedroom, sleeping away without sedatives. He wouldn’t dare wake him up, even now when they were far away from the Lighthouse’s rubble.

He bent down to check the oven’s window, pleased to see the cake sheets baking nicely. He grabbed an oven mitt and pulled the pans out, sliding them on the cooling rack. They were the perfect shade and smelled amazing. While they cooled, the brunette got busy preparing the whipped cream and cutting the strawberries he had picked yesterday. He focused hard on his task, not stopping until his creation was fully constructed. A beautiful and practically flawless strawberry shortcake. He almost felt bad for cutting into it and pulling a slice out to place on the plate. But he was far more eager to see the reaction, so he didn’t mourn the perfection.

After gathering a fork and a glass of milk, he placed everything on a tray and carefully picked it up. His months of practice came in handy, as the tray remained balanced the whole way to the bedroom. Using a shoulder, he bumped the door open so his hands didn’t leave the tray. Soon enough, he was placing the tray down on the nightstand. By this point, he knew the Ultimate Hope was awake now. “Good morning. Was your sleep restful?”

The red eyes gazed up at him, still mysterious and cryptic, though not nearly as hard anymore. Being free of pain and drugs was most likely the reason. “I can confirm that it was. The aroma of your creation coaxed me back to consciousness. Not that I mind this pleasant method of awakening.”

“I’m glad you think so, si-” Hajime paused, laughing in embarrassment. “I mean Izuru.”

The white-haired man smirked up at him. “Slip of the tongue?”

Hajime scratched his cheek, right under his silk eye cover. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“But they are getting to be fewer and less frequent,” Izuru observed. He sat up, the large shirt he was wearing slipping off a shoulder. “Can you hand me a hair tie, my dear caretaker?” he requested once he had risen into a comfortable position.

The brunette was quick to do so, though he did it with a grin. “That was on purpose. You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

Izuru’s smirk didn’t diminish, even as he began gathering his long hair and weaving the hair tie around the locks. “Observant as always, my dear. Just one of the many traits I adore about you.”

Hajime felt his cheeks redden. He still wasn’t able to hide his reactions to Izuru’s words of affection. “I-I do my best.”

“That you do.” Izuru finished making his ponytail, letting it rest against his back. He then reached forward, tugging on Hajime’s arms. The strength of the tugs had been unexpectedly strong and Hajime found himself falling onto the bed alongside Izuru with a yelp.

“Much better,” Izuru stated as he hugged Hajime to his chest. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

The brunette wiggled only slightly to get more comfortable. “But… don’t you want your cake?”

“In a few moments. Let me indulge myself on this first,” was the reply. A pleased hum followed, along with some shoulder rubs that felt amazing. “Another day of tranquility. One that we earned for our perseverance through the blood and pain. The torture those foolish scientists inflicted while playing God. But I suppose it would be best to not dwell upon such horrid memories. It is beneficial to move on and build oneself back up stronger than before.”

The caretaker chuckled. “That the Ultimate Therapist at work? Putting in overtime, for sure.”

“Perhaps. But I will utilize my abilities for our sakes and lives. And I’m sure you are well aware of this.” One of Izuru’s hands migrated up to his hair, scratching his scalp and conjuring happy noises from the receiver.

“What did I do to deserve this? So nice,” Hajime muttered, relaxing into the comforting touches.

“If you would like reasons, I can compile a list. But be aware that it is a long one. It would take some time to read them all,” Izuru replied with his eternal smile.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll decline. You know how I am with rapid fire compliments.” The brunette relaxed under the ministrations, enjoying every second.

“Oh, I do have something to retrieve. Remain here in bed, okay?” Izuru withdrew and extracted himself from the bed covers, standing up and walking over to his closet. Hajime watched in confusion, especially as the pale man pulled out a giant crocheted blanket with a mandala design. “You are always making things for me, so I figured I could return the favor. It was surprisingly easy to keep my work on this little project secret from you. Though, I am certainly not complaining,” Izuru commented as he brought the blanket over, laying it over Hajime and tucking him in. “The pattern is a representation of our spiritual and physical journey through our lives. That we found our fulfillment after our struggles. Quite fitting, wouldn’t you agree?”

Hajime’s eyes, both functional and broken, widened at the colorful blanket now around him. He ran a hand over the design, admiring the nice material and the quality of the gift. “I… I don’t know what to say… This is…”

Izuru sat next to him, sliding under the blanket next to him. “I already know, so don’t fret. Nothing needs to be expressed.” He leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed the plate and fork. “Now then, how about we try your splendid creation?” The full strawberry on top was speared with the fork and was raised to their faces. “I’ll give you the honor of taking the decoration. You won’t refuse, will you?”

Hajime’s breath was shaky as he nodded. “You know that I would never refuse anything from you. Neither back then, nor now.”

“Excellent. Though there is one condition to get this. You will have to take it from me.” Izuru placed the lower half of the strawberry into his mouth, the thicker half sticking out. And the mischievous look in those ruby red eyes implied exactly what Izuru was insinuating.

Hajime’s face turned as red as the berry. They were about to do this, weren’t they? But he couldn’t go back on his promise, so he swallowed his nerves. He leaned forward and locked lips with the other, the kiss tasting like the sweet fruit. It lasted for several moments, neither of them eager to break it. Eventually, they did separate, the strawberry now in Hajime’s mouth. He focused on chewing to buy himself time to calm down from the rush of emotions. Though this was easily seen by the Ultimate Analyst, if the smirk was anything to go off of.

“Now, I shall taste test your work. Though I don’t doubt it will be fantastic. Thank you for the treat,” the Ultimate Hope said as he cut into the cake and took a delicate bite. “A nice way to wake up and start the day. And here’s to many more in our future.”

Hajime snuggled under the beautiful blanket a little more, resting his head on Izuru’s shoulder. Finally comfortable with initiating close contact after all this time. “Yes. I hope and wish for that, too.”

[buffkitties]

Seeing Komahina fluff makes me feel worse than angst. You can throw any angst. Any hurt/no comfort. Any hurt/comfort at me, and I'll take it. I write komahina angst myself. It doesn't hurt me. Their very existence is tragic, and it doesn't hurt anymore.

Make them happy? I'll bawl. That's all they ever deserved. To be happy. To have good lives. Happy before everything goes downhill? Kill me. They won't experience genuine joy without trauma again. They won't fully feel like themselves again. They won't ever escape being remnants, either.

Just imagining them smiling at each other makes me wanna cry

[batw1nggg]

ummm uuhhhh

komahina domestic fluff is pretty cool (i am insane i am unwell i am ill about them)

literally i need hajime to sweep something while his twink boyfriend does the laundry RIGHT NOW .

[dansconcepts]

Everything's Coming Up Hajime

The following drabbles (they're little scenes of different things with some more detailed than others because a fic was too ambitious for me :'>>>) completely and wholly inspired by and dedicated to @gliittergelpens for their headcanon post on Hajime (found here) and also the connected follow up interaction here. Go check 'em out :D! And I hope you enjoy this :).

Bleary lights. Bright. Dreary. 

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

NO!

Bolt, bolted, he can’t move, why can’t he move? Everything’s not okay, why is he here again? Where are they? Get to the corner, get to the corner, he can’t move he can’t move!- (why is he prolonging the inevitable? He hasn’t done that in so long)

Pressure starts compounding on his chest. He shakes. He doesn’t want to go again, it’s going to be another round of tests again, he didn’t know he agreed to this! Let go, let go, let GO!

“Hajime.”

They never call him that. He is the subject, their project, the plaything to rip apart because he is nothing more than an experiment. He is not a person. He is not Hajime.

“Hajime.” They repeat. “It’s Makoto.”

Makoto?

He doesn’t recognize-

Makoto Naegi.

He blinks. His body slumps. As if his body was lead, his head slowly turns toward the source.

“Makoto Naegi” was never one of the researcher’s names. He knows, because he remembered each and every one, even if he didn’t want to. No, Makoto Naegi is someone else entirely, someone who isn’t associated with the Project. 

Sage-coloured irises meet his gaze first. They are warmer than any of the researchers’ eyes. 

…He isn’t in a lab, is he?

“Muh-” He winces. His voice sounds terrible. 

“Hey, drink up.” Makoto commands, not unkindly. “I know you’ve been in there for a while, but try your best.”

A glass of water is held to his lips and once they hit, his lips burn, but he downs it gratefully anyway. His throat protests in agony.

“Do you know where you are and what happened, Hajime?” 

Hajime stretches, pops coming from all his atrophied joints. “W-we- ugh, Jabberwock Island. K-cough-illing game.” The Killing Game. At the reminder, adrenaline starts coursing through him, and he immediately lurches out of the pod.

Makoto gently pushes him back.

“Yes. The other survivors are awake, but they do not hold the memories you do.”

“W-what about everyone else? What happened to them?”

“They’re still in the pods.” He tries jumping out again. “BUT!” Makoto blurts out. “BUT they’re okay. They’re not in the killing game right now. They seem to have created their own worlds-”

“What can I do to wake them up?” He quickly interrupts. 

“Oh, um, I was going to get to that part.” A small smile stretches on his face. “I knew you’d want to help. I would’ve been the same.” 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Darkness. 

He feels so tired.

He hasn’t felt this tired in… so long. Everything… is so tiring.

Lights threaten to blind him. 

No. 

Let him sleep.

Let him sleep…

“Hey, Nagito... it’s Hajime.” 

He stirs. Hajime?

He looks at the tanned skin, eyeing the scars on the undersides of his eyes, further littered over his arms, and then tracing back to his equally scarred lips, that were currently sipping on a cup in his hands.

“Ha-jime.” He croaks. Wordlessly, Hajime provides him some water. With weak hands, he reaches out toward the cup, and manages to squeeze enough of a firm grasp on it. Hajime continues sipping while he slowly gulps down the offered water. 

“Ahem,” He coughs. “Hinata, my apologies. …What happened?”

“You’re one of the last few to wake up, Komaeda.” Hajime replies, and notably, provides no context. “What do you remember?”

The question sparks his silence. His mouth purses into a deeply thin line. He eyes the man in front of him. Is there something he must have forgotten? “...Nothing particularly pleasant.” He decides on.

Hajime scrutinizes him. He stays quiet. Hajime slumps over with a sigh. “Okay, fair enough. Your pod opened, but you wouldn’t wake up. You’re in the hospital now.”

He looks around. Yes, he gathered that. The white walls and bright fluorescent lighting weren't foreign to him, he would recognize such a place no matter where he was. He could voice that, but there are more pressing concerns.

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand. How did I get here?”

“We went through a rehabilitation program.”

“Ah.” The memories are hitting him now. “Yes, sorry, I do remember us Remnants being captured for such a thing, although I don't remember much else.” He hums, looking the other up and down. “It worked, then?”

“That depends. How do you feel? About, you know, hope and despair and all that.”

“Well,” He chuckles, “if you’re worried I’m going to blow up this hospital in the pursuit of ‘a greater hope’, you would be greatly mistaken.”

Hajime breathes out a sigh of relief. “But I imagine my luck could affect that greatly. It's very fortunate you could balance it out.” The other gazes away from him, looking down in thought. How curious. Was it something he said?

He subtly tilts his head. The brunet covertly glances around, as if he was watching for something. Piercing eyes returns to meet his. “You can't get up to any crazy shit just because I can do that.” The other jokingly chastises, but his eyes remained guarded.

He nods with an smile. “Oh, I would never.” To anyone, it would simply be him teasing. However, he can tell Hajime's trying to hide something about his talents, and someone here is watching them. He wonders who would cause such paranoia.

Hajime fills him in on what occurred, being saved by the "Future Foundation" (oh, it's them.) and particularly specific members (Makoto! As in Makoto Naegi, The Ultimate Hope Makoto? Yes Komaeda, just keep it in your pants.), as well as explaining Nagito’s status, his mental and physical state (still affected by his pre-existing conditions, albeit less so), and the new addition to his body.

He turns it. He didn't even notice he had a new arm. It feels seamless, although the metal is strange to feel underneath his fingertips.

“I had to replace it.” Hajime explains. “The dead tissue was threatening to spread to the rest of your body if it was kept there. It was fine when we were hooked up to the pods since that was preserving it, but since you went into a coma, we had to act fast.”

“Hmm.” He curls his newfound metallic fingers. He sends him a smile. “It seems I owe a lot of my gratitude to you, Hinata, for helping trash like me.”

There's a pause. “We'll work on that,” is the response Hajime settles with. “...Do you want to meet everyone else?”

He freezes. Everyone else?

Although he doesn't know why, he feels himself pale completely and his body shivers. Everything in him feels cold, as if the temperature dropped, as if his whole body rejected the very idea of something he was otherwise only semi-wary about. He knows he had many reasons before to feel apprehensive around his former classmates, given his past transgressions during his time as a Remnant and theirs, but this feels... bone-chilling. Buried deep within his psyche, perhaps connected to the memories he doesn't have.

“What happened in the program.” He bluntly states, rather than asks.

“No one else remembers too, if that helps.” Hajime starts. It doesn't. “Even I barely remember it. Everyone has felt snippets though, things they avoid subconsciously, or they experience nightmares about it.” He wonders if Hajime has nightmares. He wonders what Hajime avoids. “It was broadcast-”

“I want to watch it.”

Hajime's jaw tightens. “It wasn't that type of broadcast. It wasn't recorded, it was just shown to Makoto and the other survivors. Besides, it's best you don't anyway. You're going to remember something about it.”

“How cynical. What if all I remember are pleasant things?” Nagito inquires, even if he knows the likelihood of that is so astronomically low. He is aware of himself. He knows being put into a situation like the Killing Game would just mean he'd have made very elaborate plans and schemes. Thinking that, a sharp pain in his abdomen sears through him, and he winces. It's a whisper of a feeling, but it felt... real.

Hajime merely lets out a defeated sigh. “I hope it is, Komaeda, I hope it is.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Throughout everything, this was the last thing he thought about. 

The scars. 

For the longest time, he forgot about the scars. For the briefest of moments, his complexion wasn’t completely covered by raised bumps, of angry red tissue, of the careless abandon from scientists who dissected him to fit their molds of perfection. 

And now he’s left looking into the mirror, tracing. His fingers feel the ridges. He remembers the scalpel digging into his eye, even if he didn’t feel the pain of it. He looks at the angry lines along his muscles, his thighs, and he knows with certainty it can be traced down to his feet, the bathroom counter being the only reason he can’t see the reflection of it. He remembers exactly what they forcibly fused together, being haunted by the ghosts of the sutures that were once there.

This is who he sees looking back at him.

…Mikan cleans the glass away from his fist.

[He could’ve done it himself, but it would’ve been a messier job, much like with anything else he would try nowadays.]

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Hajime is out training with Nekomaru, alongside Akane, and casually working out with them.

Nekomaru points out the bandages that suddenly replace his glove, and he waves them off. “Just an accident.” 

After a decent workout, he starts heading back to his cabin to shower when he spots Fuyuhiko to the side, relaxing against a wall.

“Hey.” He greets.  

“Yo.” The former yakuza head nods.

They watch those on the beach, a tall orange blurb chases after a red one, their laughter filling the air as suddenly they're jumped by an even louder multicoloured blurb cackling with mischief. He can hear Hiyoko's distant cursing while Mikan rushes over, fretting. He snorts.

Fuyuhiko crosses his arms, a smile on his face at the scene. “Can’t believe we get to have this.” 

“I know.” He agrees. He’d do anything to ensure everyone here stayed happy like this. Speaking of, he has to make sure to check on the next shipment of supplies afterward. He refuses to have those Future Foundation workers anywhere near the Island otherwise. But first, shower.

He's about to leave when-

“What’s with the bandages?” The former yakuza asks.

He contemplates lying. The last thing he wants is for everyone to start worrying about him. As if aware of his thoughts, Fuyuhiko sends him a particularly scathing glare, menacing even with the eyepatch. He fesses up immediately. 

“I punched a mirror.”

“Why?”

“My scars-” He starts. 

Fuyuhiko quickly interjects. “There’s nothing wrong with them.”

“Part of me understands that, but I look at them and just see��” Hope's Peak. The Hope Cultivation Project. The Remnants of Despair. He squeezes his bandaged hand. “...bad memories.”

“Yeah, I feel that.” Almost subconsciously, Hajime glances at Fuyuhiko’s scar, hidden behind black cloth. Fuyuhiko meets his gaze, unflinching. “I hate thinking about having that bitch’s eye in me.”

“How do you do it?” How do you look at yourself in the mirror? How do you live with yourself? How do you not hate yourself? 

“Being a former yakuza, scars were symbols of respect. This scar?” He gestures to it. “It’s a reminder I’m not some psychotic fuck anymore under that bitch’s heel.

I know I’m not you, Hajime. I don’t have the amount you have. But know that your scars show that you’ve survived, and you’ve made it out the other side. That’s admirable.

And ain’t nobody here went through the type of shit you did. We all look up to you. You’ve had this whole thing on your shoulders. Nobody thinks you’re damaged goods with those scars. Hell, we think of them as a reminder that you’re the strongest out of all of us.” 

“...Thanks, Fuyuhiko.”

“No problem. Now you should go take a shower, you smell like shit.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Hajime waits in front of the screen. In no time, Chiaki's grinning face pops up. “Hey Hajime. It's nice to see you. How're you doing today?”

They talk amicably. Even though she wasn't his former friend, the reminder of her AI was comforting, and in the few pleasant dreams he had, he remembered her presence (and in the worser ones, he remembered her death).

“-There's a call for you by the way, I think. It's from Makoto.” He nods. “Thanks Chiaki.”

She patches him through, and he finds it so striking the difference between now and the tentativeness from the beginning, back when they were still establishing Jabberwock Island. Signal seemed daunting, and they (him, Makoto, and Byakuya) were still trying to get Chiaki's AI booted back up. He remembers when they first suggested she try to call the Future Foundation (particularly Aoi, since Hajime refused to have the new Future Foundation head or some random member appear on the screen, since he'd contemplate breaking the nice monitor in half from sheer rage). “It's not what I’m programmed to do,” Chiaki had said, “but… I can try.”

Of course, Makoto and himself exchange pleasantries and talk for a bit, but then it derails into... less pleasant topics. “I'm hoping to finish up the layout for Hope's Peak.”

He tightens a hand over his glove, pursing his lips. “Makoto. I’m glad you want to reclaim yourself, but Hope’s Peak? Really?” He hisses, and Makoto sighs, as if they had this same argument over and over again. 

They have, by the way. Relentlessly. He is NOT getting over this, not by a long shot. He already knows how much Makoto invested into the project, but he’s still of the very firm belief he should’ve invested zero. Of course, he wouldn’t taint their rare ability to chat with one another about it, but he isn’t above reminding Makoto if he brings it up, just to be petty.

But being TRAUMATIZED WATCHING YOUR FRIENDS GET MURDERED is one of the many valid reasons for having absolutely NO interest in seeing the place that tortured him, everyone he cares about, Makoto, everyone Makoto cares about, and basically THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD, come back to existence. 

He loves Makoto, he does, and he knows Makoto’s a good guy, but… 

The idea of Hope’s Peak not being some fucked up breeding ground for hope and despair? It doesn’t seem possible. Part of the problem in the first place was the idea of pitting students against each other, forcibly defining people's significance based on whether they had “talent” or not. As well, they really sucked at developing talented people's talent, giving arbitrary assignments (from what he heard) and no actual practicality applied. He would know. His body is literally littered with their failure.

And the Future Foundation providing a substantial amount of the funds for this project? Hajime has no doubt in his mind that there’s something underlying their generosity. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It's looking to be another sleepless night, despite the weight under his eyes begging for relief. Hajime just stares at the ceiling. He feels the body beside him shift the bed, creaking it ever so slightly, and in his peripherals Nagito faces him. Nagito has always been a bit of a restless sleeper (not that he blames him), so he isn't surprised to hear him ask, “What’s on your mind, Hajime?”

He sighs. “I’m just worried about the whole Hope's Peak idea.”

“You don’t believe in Makoto?”

He quickly flips onto his side to frown at Komaeda for the sheer idea. “I believe in him, I don’t believe in anyone else.”

“Well, I can’t help but feel a little hurt…”

“You know how I feel about you.”

Nagito hums. “Do I?” He smirks. “How do you feel, Hajime?” 

Why is he turned this way again? He flips back around, ignoring the way his ears start to warm up.

“...Shut up and go to sleep already.” 

He hears Nagito chuckle behind his back. It settles eventually though. Ah, Nagito finally went to bed.

“You know,” Nagito's voice pipes up, still awake after all. His voice sounds a little whimsical, as if nearly about to sleep. “I don't necessarily disagree with you. I thought it was a place of great hope, and the fact it's being run by the Ultimate Hope is quite amazing. But...

There's you. And the hope in you has been shining so brightly this whole time.”

He freezes. Did he just-?

The words spark something in him. As if they sounded familiar.

He gets a rush that tea- nor even caffeine back when it did anything for him- has never achieved. When he eventually does sleep that night, his dreams are pleasant.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It's one of those rare instances Makoto lands on Jabberwock Island and can say hi to everyone. They meet at the small restaurant on the Island where Hajime prepares some tea for himself. He offers it to Makoto, who takes it gratefully.

Much like their video chats, the start talking about what's currently going on when Makoto- once again- mentions Hope's Peak.

Hajime lowers his cup.

“I'm going to be reinstating talents at Hope’s Peak.”

His fingers clutch his glove. He digs them in, sharp and quick, his lips immediately pulling down into a frown.

“Did… someone force you to do this?”

“Uh, no?” Makoto averts his gaze. “I’ve consulted with basically everyone since you’ve started getting me a little paranoid…”

“You should be. The Future Foundation doesn’t deserve you. You’re way too good for them.”

“They're trying to change.” Makoto states, with not much conviction.

Hajime hums skeptically. Sure they are. “Just watch out for yourself, yeah? Because the first thing I’ll do is leave this island just to kick their asses. I don’t need an Ultimate to make them into ragdolls.”

Makoto chuckles, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “...You must’ve practiced that.”

“Being around Fuyuhiko and Akane tends to give you some badass lines.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

It starts like a regular day. Things break, people fight, problems arise, he deals with it. When he sees the broadcast, he doesn't know how to deal with it.

“Oh, Makoto's on TV. How exciting.” Nagito mentions offhandedly, as if it was something as casual as the weather. It decidedly is NOT. Is Makoto okay? Why would he be broadcasted? Is this another...?

“-ing Hope's Peak,” He catches the tail end of. “In this world, there's nothing more important than banding together to fix the Tragedy that occurred. Rejoice with me as your new headmaster. Alongside the Future Foundation, we'll bring forth a new hope together!” Hajime cringes, and cringes hard. This doesn't sound like Makoto at all. The Future Foundation logo is the last image of this blatant ad, what the fuck, but he's seen enough.

He knows exactly how to deal with this.

He strolls into the new Future Foundation headquarters (although that may be underselling it). Instantly, upon seeing him, people start shrieking and running. Red lights blink in and out. He brushes it off. It’s the last of his damn worries right now.

He's rushed by armoured guys. He suddenly feels like he should've thought this through, but he continues on. He slips himself into the old Remnant persona like an ill-fitting jacket, paired with a little Ultimate Actor prowess. “Let me through or I'll make sure your families have nothing to put into a casket.” Okay, not his best work, but it's enough for them to back off. They watch him. He even hears one guy cowering in fear from behind. It's that which allows him to catch the guy's arm and dislocate it. Everyone jumps at the sudden violence, and the guy screeches.

He knows it's fixable, but he still feels bad. The mask he wears threatens to slip, but he keeps going until he gets to the new Future Foundation head. (Hajime met her before through a forced video call, with them threatening to interfere at Jabberwock Island if he wasn't capable enough. “I am Sumiko Hatanaka,” they introduced themselves. “Ultimate Administrator. Given the circumstances the Future Foundation is currently in, I have become appointed as the temporary replacement head provided my previous experience and commitment to my work.”)

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing.” He sneers.

“How are you here?” She asks. “What are you doing here?”

“That wasn’t my question.” 

He sees a sheen of nervousness across their forehead, but they don't let up their frown.

“Why are you here, Hajime Hinata, Remnant of Despair?” 

Why is he here? Why is he HERE?

“What gave you the right to use Makoto for some ad for Hope's Peak? What the hell are you doing, exposing him further to the public? Do you know what this could do to him?”

“I assure you, I have no vested interest in letting a valued employee be defaced in any way, shape, or form. His mental faculties are highly important to this company. Meanwhile, you are jeopardizing the very people you wished to protect by coming here. Was it worth it?”

He growls, “Leave Makoto the fuck alone, or I’ll remind you why I was a Remnant.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Makoto’s Hope’s Peak is in full operation. He doesn't know if he'll ever visit. So instead, Hajime is left pondering the future, and living on the Island with the rest of his classmates.

He genuinely hopes nothing bad will happen, but...

He wouldn't bet that it won't.