#also i feel like when the dust settles he still thinks as hinata hajime as like the name that comes into his mind first but its followed by

[luckyemo]

This is what I’m saying re hinata/kamukura split but not being cringe in someone else post lol

[badatjokezz]

Haikyuu!! Rare Pair Fic Recs

i’ve been so hype about some Hq rarepairs lately now imma list some of my fav fanfics, mostly OiSuga mwehehe.... 

(probably gonna add some more in the future)

Oisuga (Oikawa x Sugawara)

1. Stuck in the Middle With You by overlymetaromantic

It's not the kind of blossoming relationship either of them would expect, but maybe, just maybe, it could lead to something good.

1. In which Suga and Oikawa run into each other on a late night convenience store run.

2. In which Suga and Oikawa inadvertently switch bags and end up with the other’s uniform.

3. In which Suga gives Oikawa the lecture he doesn't want but probably needs, and Oikawa might accidentally be a little in love.

4. In which Oikawa won't shut up about Suga, and Iwaizumi plays matchmaker just to make him stop.

5. In which there is not a date, and Suga likes spicy things much more than sweet.

6. In which Karasuno and Aobajousai hold training camps in the same neck of the woods, and the trip back proves to be more revealing than it probably should.

7. In which there might just be a future to this after all.

(Dis is so fluffy i might die)

2. moving on (growing up) by _helios (neocitz)

‘I’ll do it,’ Suga says, walking into their prep school and dropping his bag on the floor next to Oikawa. He shoves the melon bun and drink forward into Oikawa’s hands, and stands there looking down at him because he knows that he needs to not chicken out.

‘You’ll do what?’ Oikawa looks up through his glasses, eyes wide and confused as the other students stream in around them.

‘The fake dating thing, I’ll do it.’

‘Fuck. Yes.’ Oikawa says with a fist pump.

(It’s been AGES since i read Fake/Pretend Relationship fic, this one is goood)

3. how strange, to be remembered by venusintwelfthFandoms

"He is not formed of the type of dust that makes up stars. Suga is not the type of person that stays in the mind of one like Oikawa Tooru, ten years later. He is formed of the type of dust you shake off, the type that settles into the ground."

Ten years after Suga last steps off a high-school court, Oikawa recollects a "Mr. Refreshing" in a post-game interview, and Suga is left scrambling.

(Cute one-shot, Oikawa still remember Mr. Refreshing from Karasuno)

4. all the small things by Authoress for lemedy

Sugawara Koushi.

Oikawa’s brain supplies the name of the person standing at the other end of the aisle before Oikawa can even register him, attuned to spitting out facts about other volleyball players on a second’s notice, even after all these years. Karasuno High vice-captain. 174 cm…no, more like 176 now. Skilled at raising morale and bringing an element of surprise to their strategy. Troublesome. Refreshing. Setter.

The enemy.

(Single Dad! Oikawa, cuuutee ugh)

5. Win Some by kingdra (aroceu) for Icie

Tooru does not have a problem, its name is certainly not Sugawara Koushi, and he is not going to the Karasuno practices just to watch him. Regardless of whatever Iwa-chan says.

(High school romane~)

6. Even as bright as you are? by BKAKCANON

That night when he goes to sleep, he includes "the safety of fairies" on his prayers, making a promise to whoever was listening him, that he'd protect all the fairies and keep their secret safe forever.

[Where Oikawa meets Suga when they are kids and Oikawa believes Suga is secretly a fairy and decides he has to protect his secret all costs.]

(This is basically matches my headcanon)

7. getting to know you by oisugasuga

Suga feels like he’s back on the court then, his heart thudding hard in his ears… so hard he almost misses what Oikawa says. Unfortunately, though, he doesn’t.

"My, my. What a surprise," Oikawa Tooru says. And then… "Hello, Mr. Refreshing."

(Haven’t finished yet but DAMN I LOVE OIKAWA AND SUGA IN HERE, single dad! oikawa, and Suga babysitting oikawa’s kid, def slow burn. Imma follow this fic till death)

8. Dear Reader by hyirule

No one seems to read the paper anymore. But Oikawa likes to for the sports section. One day he finds himself reading a section called "Dear Reader" and finds a submission he can relate to.

Basically messages sent through a page on a newspaper brings to unlikely souls together, who maybe have more in common than they first thought.

(Cannon compliant, simple and... refreshing(?))

9. rest by shicchaan

Tooru looks at the sleeping person beside him as he waits for the lights change into green. The growing fringe of his husband started to cover his eyes but he can still see the beautiful birthmark under the silver haired's left eye.

(Established relationship, fluff fluff!!!)

10. long is the road (that leads me home) by ichweissnichtauch

He thinks about himself, deleting contacts from his phone and throwing coffee cups away without even looking at the string of numbers scrawled in Sharpie ink underneath, and he’s tired of hiding, tired of carefully treading the lines he’d drawn for himself all those years ago.

Just this once, Tooru wants— he thinks he wants to be brave.

Oikawa Tooru is not a stranger to wanting.

(like... 20% Oisuga but i like the way this story follows the Cannon till he get to Argentina)

11. It's Always Been About You by mintycarrots

Every time Tooru had envisioned meeting his soulmate, it was a confession of love, filled with tears of happiness and a lot of making out. It would be a faceless petite girl that would support Tooru in whatever he chose to pursue and would understand when Tooru prioritized volleyball over all else.

It was never a boy on the rival team.

(Soulmate AU)

12. a play in three acts by venusintwelfth

"The first time Sugawara Koushi sees Oikawa Tooru play, he thinks that if he wasn’t so set on volleyball, he’d do well in theater."

the first seijoh x karasuno match through the eyes of suga.

(Kinda poetic i guess, well written af)

13. colors by dazeful

Sugawara Koushi's colorful life as an archer.

(this is like the perfect oisuga one shot ive ever read)

___

IwaSuga (Iwaizumi x Sugawara)

1. And so the moon cried by iwriteinpenFandoms:

The hillocks are the domain of unearthly creatures. Creatures of rot and fog, of music and dance. Like ghosts in the night they travel without leaving footprints, they disappear in a flurry of long dresses and pale hair. Those who are fated to see them risk curses far worse than death. You may hear them, a giggle in the wind. You may smell them, the smell of the fog rolling in through the trees. You should pray you never see them. Iwaizumi Hajime is a simple man. He works a simple farm job and enjoys simple things. After one morning where he woke next to a perfect circle of death and only the memory of brown eyes and cold hands, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to the forest. Will the tales of his childhood play out with him at the center or will he have to disregard all reason?

(Danish Folklore AU)

2. Cry Just A Little by DreadfulMind

Suga was whistling a tune to himself as he opened the door to the bathroom, so he didn't hear the muffled crying through the door. But he could hear it clearly once he was inside. He heard the sharp sob of someone trying to stop.

"Iwaizumi?" He asked, "are you sure you're alright?"

(Simple but c u t e)

3. Generations by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor), mozaikmage

Professional sports blogger Sugawara Koushi writes an article about a volleyball match that bears special meaning to him and his former kouhai: a showdown between Kitagawa Daiichi and Yukigaoka Middle School, ten years after the teams faced off for the first time. He doesn't plan on capturing the attention of the world of sports journalism, and he certainly doesn't expect himself to end up having a thing for one of the coaches involved, one Iwaizumi Hajime.

(Time-Skip, I loved it)

___

KuroTsuki (Kuroo x Tsukishima)

1. Invictus by Chiru

Kuroo T. » So let me get this straight (gay?) Kuroo T. » You want me to pretend to be your perfect and fabulous boyfriend, so that your little freckled friend will stop trying to set you up with cute little highschool girls? Tsukishima Kei » yes Kuroo T. » Aha. Tsukishima Kei » you'll do it? Kuroo T. » I don't know. I missed the part where I get something out of it. Tsukishima Kei » you get to annoy me. Unfortunately Kuroo T. » Tempting, Tsukki, very tempting indeed.

(Fake/Pretend Relationship, some fluff, some angst, i read this in the middle of the night and cried, fortunately happy ending)

2. hold onto hope if you got it by nekolyssi

"Now, in the beginning of their third year of high school, the obnoxious hollering and incessant spirit of his teammates became normalcy to Kei. And now, normalcy is this. Weekly psych meetings. Pharmacy waiting rooms. Prescriptions. Refusal of prescriptions. More prescriptions."

(Not finished yet but yep prolly gonna put this one to one of those best haikyuu fics ive ever read. I wasnt so interested at first but i really like the idea of mental ilness etc, this is g o o d!!)

3. [KuroTsuki Fest Week 2017] Traces by Heartythrills 

Kuroo’s disappeared for a little over a week now, and suddenly a 4 year old who looks like him appears before Tsukishima’s apartment.

(Age regression, fluff)

4. I swear by xArtemisx

Like the shadow that's by your side I'll be there

"What are you doing here, Tetsu? It's cold." Kei asked softly. Tetsurou smiled. Hearing his name came out of Kei's lips is always music to his ears.

"Nothing. I just came to think that whatever memory we make, may it be happy or sad memories, the bright moon and the starry night sky is always there to be the witness. Did you notice?" The alpha answered and Kei nodded. He also noticed it.

"Yes, I did noticed it."

(I love agony and sad ending....)

5. Honeybee by ClosetGoblin

Tsukishima has trouble sleeping one night during a Third Gym Camping Trip. So, he takes his acoustic guitar and passes the time with some music, and gets a visitor. Maybe he doesn't mind Kuroo's voice as he does the screeching that Lev and Hinata call singing.

(Simple but sweet)

6. Say You Like Me by the_madame21

It's been three months. And Tsukishima Kei is going to see Kuroo Tetsurou.

(light angst and.. s m u t. Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamic)

7. trying to get to you by mytsukkishine

Everything came crashing down on Kuroo when Kei had left him alone with nothing but the moon shining down on him.

Wherein, Kuroo was struggling to move on and decided that he wouldn't mind being with Kei again.

(sad beginning? yes. sad ending? y e s. you’re a masochist? come get your juice)

8. Please Hold by ThemooncatFandoms

Kei was expecting Kuroo to do one of two things; Send a text to the office saying that they will have to call back another time and continue what they started, or excuse himself from Kei to answer the call, which was most likely. He shouldn’t have been surprised when Kuroo does neither of those things.

(short but hot. what’s hotter than quiet sex?)

___

Ushijima x Oikawa

1. This Insignificant Pride and Prejudice by Mysecretfanmoments, Pouler (poulerslashes)

Oikawa Tooru graduated high school with the burning desire to succeed in his college career. He'd hoped that might include taking down his arch-nemesis along the way, but when he finds that his college team hosts an offensively familiar face, he can't help but think that the universe might be conspiring against him. After all, what could be worse than playing on the same team as Ushijima?

(It was funny for me reading oikawa/ushijima fic with that “you should’ve come to Shiratorizawa” joke at first but somehow i found this one... endearing :3, cute poor ushiwaka)

___

Atsumu x Nishinoya

1. All the things I love about Yuu by KilluCoulomb

Atsumu Miya is fixated in Nishinoya. The way the boy acts, talks, plays. He Carefully observes from afar, but he slowly warms up to the Libero. Friendship becomes more and more intimate. Atsumu realizes Nishinoya is not that simple guy he met three years ago. And he loves it.

(pro volleyball players AU)

2. i'll see you then by noyabeans (snowdrops)

Nishinoya Yuu and Miya Atsumu build a rivalry and something more.

“Oh, it's Karasuno’s libero,” he says, mildly surprised to see Nishinoya’s face staring back at him from the brochure, grinning wide with his arms folded over his chest.

Contains spoilers for the current manga arc, up to chapter 380.

[potatotrash0]

Kwami Swap

Rating: Teen for like single swear from Hinata

Word Count: ~1600

Genre: Humor?? Like 10% vague fluff??

Hokori chuckled, “I admit it’s a stretch. With the Cat Miraculous, I have bad luck most of the time, but ladybugs are good luck, aren’t they?”

Tentō narrowed his eyes, but they didn’t have much to go on as of now...clicking his tongue, he relented. “Fine,” he sighed, “try it. But I’m telling you, the Lucky Charm doesn’t just give you whatever you want. You have to actually figure out what to do with it.”

—

Idk man I saw a Miraculous and Danganronpa crossover au and went completely feral and spat this out. Also yes inspired by @/moochisun

Also on AO3 under the same username!

I am. unoriginal. so I basically named Komaeda, dust in Japanese (hokori) and Hinata, ladybug (technically tentōchū but i went with tentō). shhh don’t question it

—

Tentō stumbled as he landed, catching himself against the alleyway’s wall with a small grunt. Beside him, Hokori swung in just as haphazardly, though he seemed to be having more fun with his temporary Miraculous.

“Okay,” Tentō breathed, slumping down and running a hand through his hair as his breathing slowed. “New idea, we actually make a plan before attacking.” Hokori nodded, “Yes, that would be wise.” He laughed as Tentō kicked a rock his way.

“Well, how about we use your—ah, my Lucky Charm?” Hokori slipped into a more serious tone, one of his hands reaching for his yo-yo. “Yeah, no,” Tentō said, shaking his head and kicking off the wall. “Normally, I would agree, but we’re lagging behind because of our Miraculous swap. We don’t have enough information to come up with a solid plan or bullshit one like we’ve done before.”

“I suppose that’s true for you, but...” Hokori trailed off and paused for a moment, seemingly contemplating something, before his expression steeled itself. “Before you arrived to help, I got close enough to see that one of the jewels on Doragon’s choker was purple. I think the akuma is in there, so if we can distract them long enough for one of us to smash the crown, I might be able to purify it.”

Tentō nodded, his brows furrowing as he thought it over. “Alright. But what do we use as a distraction?” “Maybe the Lucky Charm will give us something the akuma might want? We know it chases after shiny or expensive things,” Hokori suggested.

Tentō blinked before snorting. “Hokori, you know how random my Lucky Charm is. Even though that plan would work theoretically, there’s no telling what the Lucky Charm might give us.”

Hokori cocked his head, pursing his lips slightly. “I have pretty good luck, though, so it might work.” Tentō rolled his eyes, “Yeah, because leaving things up to chance has definitely helped us save Tokyo before!” He felt the ears on the top of his head twitch, his tail whipping at his ankles.

Hokori chuckled, “I admit it’s a stretch. With the Cat Miraculous, I have bad luck most of the time, but ladybugs are good luck, aren’t they?” Tentō narrowed his eyes, but they didn’t have much to go on as of now...clicking his tongue, he relented. “Fine,” he sighed, “try it. But I’m telling you, the Lucky Charm doesn’t just give you whatever you want. You have to actually figure out what to do with it.”

‘This is ridiculous,’ he thought to himself, staring at the alleyway wall ahead. /I’ve tried this kind of stuff before, there’s no way that the rules of the Miraculous will bend just for him.’

His gaze flickered to Hokori when his ears picked up a quiet gasp. His partner had a giddy grin on his face, grey eyes sparkling. Tentō raised a brow and took a step closer, leaning over the boy’s shoulder.

He then let out some weird, strangled noise he couldn’t name. “...what the fuck?” In Hokori’s hands was an ornate box, made of wood and lined with velvet. Inside was probably the biggest necklace he had ever seen, along with a set of equally obnoxious earrings and several bangle bracelets. “Is—is that diamond?!” Tentō snatched the box from his partner’s hands, suddenly feeling like he needed to have a discussion about favoritism with Tikki.

Hokori, the damn bastard, burst out laughing before he slapped a hand over his mouth, doubling over.

---

“I still can’t believe that worked,” Tentō huffed, leaning on his staff. Hokori giggled, eyes trained on the now-purified akuma lingering on his finger. “I didn’t expect it to work so well either, but I guess my luck pulled through again!”

A beeping came from the ring on his finger, one of the green paw prints flickering and fading to black. The akuma jumped up onto Hokori’s nose, its wings fluttering rapidly. “We should leave before we transform back,” Tentō said, waiting for his partner to bid goodbye to the butterfly. (He did his best not to smile too fondly when Hokori turned around after looking so sad to see it go.)

They parted ways near some bakery, Tentō opting to leap another block away before landing. He ducked around the corner, glancing around before deeming the coast clear. “Plagg, claws in.” The black kwami flew out from the ring with a little flourish, groaning dramatically and flopping into Hinata’s hands like some maiden fainting onto her lounge chair.

“Next time,” Plagg huffed, glaring up at him, “I better not have to do so much work just so you guys can transform.” Hinata scoffed, “You barely did anything.” “Excuse me? Going around Tokyo searching for my owner in a huge crowd is stressful! At this rate, my fur will start turning white.” “Yeah, right. You don’t even have fur! Besides, you can whine to Hokori about it, /I’m/ not your Miraculous holder.”

Hinata slipped off the ring and put it into the black box he had stored in his pocket. He handed it to Plagg, pointedly ignoring the cat’s complaints. “And tell him that his kwami is a pain in the ass for me,” Hinata called as Plagg flew off, snickering when yelled back indignantly, “Have some respect for your elders!”

Shortly after, Tikki flew into view, a wide smile on her face. “Hajime!” Hinata laughed as his kwami nuzzled against his cheek, holding her close for a moment. “Good to have you back, Tikki.” She settled into his shirt pocket like usual, handing him the earrings and taking the piece of chocolate he offered to her eagerly.

“By the way, the Miraculous’s powers are fixed, right?” He asked, putting on the earrings with only a little struggle. He made a mental note to ask Tsumiki or Mioda about his ears healing over. He felt Tikki nod, “Yes. Even if the Miraculous, transformations, and weapons change to fit the holder’s preferences, the fundamental abilities don’t change.” Hinata hummed, tongue flicking over his retainer idly before he replied. “So what’s up with Hokori getting exactly what he wanted from the Lucky Charm earlier?” “Hmm...” Tikki seemed to falter, nibbling at the chocolate as she thought. “According to Plagg, his holder tends to attract good and bad luck even without a Miraculous, so that might play into it.”

“So I was right to think it was pure bullshit.” “That’s...a crude way to put it, but you’re not entirely wrong. It is very abstract!”

Hinata sighed, a smile crossing his face. Well, chalking it up to luck wouldn’t be his first choice, but he supposed having a cryptic and roundabout cat-boy for a partner ruled out all of his “ideal circumstances” in general. Something told him it wouldn’t be quite as fun without Hokori and his chaotic ways, though.

---

Hokori landed just behind the local bakery, being careful to ensure he was hidden from view. “Tikki, spots off,” he whispered, catching the spotted kwami in his hands. He was tempted to let Tikki take a nap, seeing how sleepy she looked in his palms. She deserved it, after all, but she also had to return to Tentō, so he gently nudged at her with his thumb. She took the hint after a moment, flying up and seemingly making Komaeda’s hair her temporary bed.

He took his time taking out the earrings and placing them back into their container, speaking up once he was done. “Come on, I’m sure Tentō would like to be reunited with his kwami.” Tikki brightened up at that, taking the black and red box with a renewed vigor. “It was nice meeting you,” Komaeda said softly, laughing when Tikki returned the sentiment by bumping against his nose with a smile.

Not too long after she left, Plagg flew in, announcing his presence by crashing into Komaeda’s chest with clearly exaggerated groaning. “You’re crushing on a guy with no idea what manners are, you know that, right?” Plagg said into his shirt, tail whipping around. Komaeda raised a brow but wasn’t too surprised to hear his kwami being so dramatic. He grabbed his Miraculous back with his left hand, the other one digging in his coat pocket for the container he kept Plagg’s beloved cheese in. “I’m well aware of how blunt Tentō can be, but I’ll keep your concerns in mind.” He tossed a piece of Camembert Plagg’s way, watching his kwami rush to catch it in his mouth with a grin.

Admittedly, he had been worried when Tikki approached him at first, knowing first hand how much Plagg tended to get himself into trouble. But at the very least, he was here now, unharmed and safe. Komaeda slipped the Cat Miraculous back onto his ring finger, feeling more at ease now that he had it back. For something he had only owned for a year, he found himself pretty attached to it.

Though, it was the same for most of the things he had gained in the past year. It was weird, allowing himself to enjoy his life after years of avoiding forming attachments in fear of losing them. It was so ingrained into him, trying to live without fearing the worst was almost harder than just accepting it. Komaeda shook his head, catching himself regressing back into his old habits. ‘Hinata-kun would probably be angry if he knew I was still entertaining the thought of my luck sabotaging me,’ he mused. It was a viable possibility in his eyes, but Hinata always seemed to be firmly against Komaeda’s “self-destructive tendencies,” to quote the brunet. Why, Komaeda still couldn’t grasp, but there was little that he understood about Hinata in general. ‘It’s not really necessary to understand someone to appreciate them though, is it?’

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title: Pink Cheeks and Wisps of White

Author: @phantasmagorighoul

For: @saintmae

Rating/Warnings: just a warning for minor internalized homophobia on komaeda’s side! nothing major.

Prompt: “Anything about the two of them having a relationship is okay with me!! Feel free to play around with their relationship dynamics, who made the first move, what it’s like for them to be together." 

Author’s notes: hello!! i’m your secret santa for the exchange! <3 i originally was going to do a kamukomahina piece but couldn’t think of anything for the longest time (i’m sorry!), so i decided to do something with this prompt instead, mostly ‘who made the first move’! i hope you enjoy!! (also, i think tumblr may have messed with my formatting a bit, so once this is posted here, a copy of this fic will be available on my ao3 where it’s for sure unaltered!)

Breakfasts on Jabberwock were really nice.

Everyone was still slowly getting used to being there, so not everybody showed all the time; there were a lot of people who were reminded too much of what happened in the Program to want to go and regroup where they used to do headcounts to ensure everyone survived the night. That was perfectly understandable.

But for those who did go, breakfast was arguably the best part of the day. It was incredibly refreshing to see each other again–alive and okay–and, to Hajime’s surprise, a lot of the past seemed to be exactly that–the past. Victims sat with the blackeneds that killed them, laughing and sharing stories from the lives they lived previous to their sophomore year. Teruteru got up extra early every single morning to cook; he’d even taken the time to memorize everyone’s favorite dish so he could incorporate them the best he could.

Hajime was relieved. By some stroke of luck, every single person had woken up even though they had a small chance of doing so, and he’d been able to (mostly) become himself again despite all of the tampering done to his brain. He enjoyed getting to talk to the friends he’d made inside the Program as if they had all been friends even before then, bouncing around between tables to have fragmented conversations and see how they were doing.

The one he sat with the most, though, was Nagito Komaeda.

He’d woken up last and Hajime had been there to personally help him up, and since then, Nagito seemed to be glued to Hajime the most out of the group. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; he didn’t cling to him or stalk him, but when it came to group situations, Nagito tended to follow him around like a lost puppy even if he didn’t say anything. Hajime truthfully didn’t mind; after all, Nagito had been the closest thing he had to a best friend in the Program until he had snapped. (Even after that, in a strange sort of way, Nagito still felt like his best friend, just distanced and strained.)

When it came to breakfast, Nagito always sat across the room by himself, only joining the others when prompted (which was seldom to never). Hajime always found it fairly sad–everybody else got a second chance, and it was only fair to give him one too–so he sat with him and talked to him more than the others. He told himself it wasn’t entirely out of pity; it wasn’t, truly, because Hajime enjoyed his company. Judging by the way Nagito would always gently smile as a faint blush dusted his pale cheeks anytime Hajime would sit across from him, Hajime figured Nagito enjoyed his, too.

This morning was no different; Akane and Nekomaru laughed heartily as they stuffed their faces together, Sonia, Kazuichi, and Gundham all sat together and chatted amongst themselves, and Mahiru and Ibuki stood by the food too distracted by conversation to grab anything yet.

Nagito was in his usual spot, nudging a potato around his plate uninterestedly, half-tempted to get up and leave.

“God, you eat like a bird.”

He lifted his head, met by Hajime as he slid into the seat across from him, plate piled high. Wordlessly, the brunet tilted his over a bit, pushing some fruit and eggs onto the nearly-empty plate before taking a piece of toast off of his and setting it on top. Nagito chuckled lightly as Hajime settled in, nudging Nagito’s plate back towards him.

“You need meat on your bones,” he urged, taking a bite of his own toast, “so eat it. And I know you like everything there, so don’t use that excuse, either.”

“Such an aggressive way of caring,” Nagito smiled, tucking white hair behind his ear. Despite his lack of appetite, he picked up his fork and stabbed a strawberry, popping it into his mouth to please the man across from him. Hajime hummed in response, politely swallowing before speaking.

“Of course.”

He wasn’t exactly sure what else to say, but it felt like enough, so the two sat in comfortable silence as they eavesdropped on the others.

The mechanical whirring had snapped Hajime back to reality, eyes flicking down to watch as Nagito flexed his fingers.

“How are you doing with that? Okay?”

Nagito nodded, flexing them a bit more before picking up the glass of water in front of him with it; his arm trembled and the water threatened to spill out, but he didn’t drop the glass once. He took a drink and set it back down.

“It’s getting better,” Nagito explained, rubbing the metal wrist with his organic hand, “I’ve been trying to do more things with my left side than I usually would. I’m just so used to completely ignoring my left hand that it’s easy to forget that the prosthetic is even there.”

Hajime nodded, examining it from where he was sitting.

“Thank you for building it for me.”

Hajime lifted his head again, Nagito’s gaze averted as the pink blush was back on his cheeks. The tips of his ears were a bit red, but thanks to his luck, his hair was wild enough to hide them from the other. Hajime laughed, nudging Nagito’s shin with his foot, which only seemed to deepen the blush.

“You don’t have to thank me anymore, you know,” he teased, “You’ve thanked me plenty of times since we’ve put it on. I know you’re thankful, Nagito; you’re welcome.”

Nagito’s pulse thumped so hard against his paper-thin skin that it was a wonder Hajime couldn’t see it against his neck. He blinked a little, smiling as he looked down at his plate to avoid looking at the brunet too long. Hajime just chalked it up to Nagito being Nagito and continued to eat, every so often urging the other to keep eating as well.

They continued making small talk until Hajime decided Nagito had eaten a decent amount; he excused himself so he could get up and talk to the others for a bit, but when he went to go back to his seat, Nagito had already left. A pang of disappointment hit the Hope’s chest, but only for a moment; he had just wanted to talk to him more, as all. He helped Teruteru clean everything up as the others began to leave as well.

The bittersweet thing about Jabberwock was that nobody really had jobs–everything was provided to them by the Future Foundation. Eventually they would get to go back to the mainland, but for the time being, they didn’t have to worry about anything and had all the free time in the world.

Hajime knew that it would one day become boring (and an echo in the back of his mind already claimed that it was), but he was content with it now.

Typically, whenever he didn’t have plans, he’d wander around the island until he found something to do. After breakfast, Kazuichi invited him to hang out for a while, which he did; after visiting with Kazuichi, he stopped by Mikan’s cottage to make sure she was okay since she had been avoiding leaving unless she absolutely had to. Once ensured she was alright, Hajime couldn’t think of anything else to do, so he chose to go to the library and pick a random book to read cover to cover.

The library was huge, and it (thankfully) wasn’t vandalized like the library in the Program had been. There were stacks of books on the floor where they had been taken out ages ago and never returned to their shelves; the air smelled old in the best possible way. The sound of Hajime’s steps echoed against the wide open space as he walked between the towering bookcases, wandering into the middle area where a handful of tables lingered. He had no idea what book he wanted to read; he figured he could just peruse the shelves and see what caught his eye.

“Ah, Hinata-kun!”

Hajime turned towards the direction of the voice; hidden between some of the stacks on the upper level was Nagito. He gave a wave of his metal hand before finding one of the ladders, holding on with one hand with a couple of books tucked under his other. Hajime went over to take them out from under him so the white-haired man could safely get to the ground floor. When Nagito’s feet hit the tile, he lifted his head with a gentle smile of appreciation, his cheeks pink again.

His cheeks are always so flushed and warm.

Hajime’s heart skipped against his ribs and he scratched his head so he could focus on a sensation someplace other than his chest.

“If I’d have known you were going to come here, I would have offered to walk with you!” Nagito ran a hand through his fluffed hair, striding over to one of the tables. Hajime instinctively followed, the other’s books still under his own arm.

“I didn’t originally plan to. I just got bored, as all.” Hajime tended to get bored fairly easily; Nagito knew this was because of Izuru. The luckster sat down, nudging away some of the hardcover books that had already been on top of the polished oak to make room for the books he had chosen.

“Ah, I understand. I figured I would come here and continue reading from where I left off the other day; I don’t have much better to do.”

“Of course! I forgot you were a bookworm.” Hajime smiled, sitting down in the chair next to the other, setting the books in front of him. Oddly enough, he could feel Nagito tense next to him and saw him shift uncomfortably out of the corner of his eye. When he glanced over to see what was wrong, Nagito’s soft green eyes were a bit averted, yet his body was angled politely towards him. Hajime was somewhat confused but didn’t press any further; Nagito could get nervous sometimes and he suspected that he might have been having an off day.

Looking back to the stack of books he’d carried for the other, Hajime read each title in his head as he shuffled through them, the smile on his face fading a bit as he entered analytical mode. Nagito was silent, but a pale hand reached over and tried to gently tug a book from underneath Hajime’s grip.

There seems to be a common theme here.

“Human sexuality… that seems like it would be interesting to read about,” Hajime said, nudging the books back over to Nagito. “I always thought it was cool.”

The luckster laughed almost forcefully and nervously, pulling them on the other side of himself so they were almost hidden away from the brunet. “Me too.”

Hajime furrowed his brow, a little confused, but sensed the other’s worsening nerves and attempted to drive the conversation further. “Is that why you’re reading about it? Just out of curiosity?”

Nagito nodded, giving him a small grin, but it was hard for him to hide the tense body language he held. “Yes, just… curious.”

Hajime nodded in return, waiting for the man to go on; he didn’t, his smile distancing further away from a smile and closer to a grimace. The brunet cleared his throat, trying to glance past the arms wrapped in the green jacket to get a peek at the spines again. Nagito shifted in his seat and strategically pushed them further behind him.

“What are you reading about now in specifics? Statistics? Community?”

The white-haired man hummed, looking away as he chuckled in thought. “Um…”

Much to Hajime’s surprise, he didn’t say anything else. His expression fell shamefully as if he were caught with his hand in the cookie jar and his cheeks began to burn. Hajime sat in wait of a response, but it didn’t even seem like Nagito could think of anything to say.

Silence hung in the air long enough for it to become awkward. Puzzle pieces began to shift together in Hajime’s head.

The nerves, the topic, the cute pink cheeks.

Ah–stop focusing on that!

“Nagito,” Hajime started, tilting his head with a soft, knowing smile. “We’re best friends, right?”

Nagito’s cheeks burned a bit darker and he squeezed his hands together tightly in his lap. He stuttered over his words. “Ah, ah, um–I–yes.”

“I don’t want you to be offended by me asking you something, okay?” Hajime turned to look his friend in the eye, who was wearing an expression that told the brunet that he was likely internally panicking but was trying to hide it. Nagito didn’t stop him, though, and nodded.

“Of course, H-Hinata-kun. What’s on your mind…?” His voice cracked.

“Looking at these books–and thinking about some of the things you’ve said and done before–Nagito, are you gay?” Hajime laughed lightly, feeling a bit ridiculous in his wording. In this day and age, it’s not really a big deal. “Come to think of it, you’ve never said a single flirtatious thing towards any of the girls, have you? The guys, however…” Hajime’s own cheeks flushed as he began to realize how many teasing things Nagito had said to him before.

Actually, a good majority of those flirtatious things are targeted at me…

Nagito just blinked for a moment, looking as if he were a deer in the headlights. His cheeks were dusted with a deep red rather than his typical pink and his chest rose and fell at a quicker rate. Green eyes searched Hajime over, pupils dilated as he tried to think of something to say. Unable to get the words to come out, the white-haired man abruptly stood up, bangs hanging in his face as he pulled his jacket tightly around himself.

“I–I’m sorry, Hinata, I have to go–” His voice trailed off as he shook his head and held up a hand in apology, quickly striding toward the entrance.

“No–wait–Nagito!” Hajime called with his hands out, standing up in panic, “That wasn’t supposed to sound like a bad thing!”

By some miracle, the luckster stopped in his tracks, arms wrapped protectively around himself as he stood with his back to Hajime. He said nothing for a few moments, Hajime’s blood loud in his ears as he feared he made a terrible, terrible mistake. Nagito turned his head a bit, and the vulnerability visible on his face made Hajime’s chest twinge in an unidentifiable emotion.

“It’s… not…?”

“Of course not, Nagito,” Hajime let out a sigh of relief, smiling gently, “It was just a question. That’s all. It doesn’t matter whatsoever what your sexuality is! You’re my best friend; I just kind of figured you’d be more open about something like that with me, I’m sorry.”

Nagito blinked, turning to face Hajime, but he still stood where he was and hugged himself. He looked on the verge of tears, eyes looking someplace by Hajime’s feet, his mouth tight. Izuru droned from deep within him that he should have just left it at that and changed the subject, but Hajime didn’t have anywhere near as much impulse control. His voice was low and gentle as he spoke again.

“How long have you known?”

Nagito was silent, swallowing as he considered the answer to Hajime’s question. The brunet still stood in front of his chair, determined to make the other feel comfortable enough to come back over where he had been before. Finally, Nagito lifted his head, walking back over with cautious steps.

“Since grade school,” he explained, breathy voice soft as if he were suddenly aware that they were in a library, “I always thought the boys in my classes were cute. Girls liked me, but I didn’t even really care.” Hajime sat back down as Nagito drew closer, and he was glad he did when the other sat back in his seat, hands folded nervously in his lap as he picked at his fingers. “I thought it was normal. I didn’t realize that I was expected to like girls and not boys.”

Hajime nodded, allowing Nagito the space to vent if he needed it, but he seemed to want to leave it at that, turning his head with downcast eyes. The brunet smiled, leaning in a bit.

“Wow, that’s really cool you learned that about yourself so early!” Hajime felt his cheeks flare with heat in horrified anticipation of what was about to spill from his mouth, but he forced himself to say it anyway. “I only realized in high school, haha.”

Nagito suddenly came back to life, snapping his head in his direction with a gaze that looked borderline horrified. His eyes were blown wide and his mouth hung open as he reeled back a bit, hand to his chest.

“Hajime–you’re–?”

“–Well, not exactly gay; I’m bisexual,” Hajime explained calmly, trying to convey that this really wasn’t a big deal even though he was positive he was as red as the design on Nagito’s jacket. He laughed it off, even as Nagito’s own face flushed. “I always had a thing for girls, but my freshman year, I started getting crushes on a couple of guys in homeroom. I think the reason I realized so late was because none of the guys from my hometown class were really that attractive.”

Nagito nodded, looking to the side, his expression still shocked. His hands trembled in his lap and Hajime frowned; he was still nervous, which wasn’t good.

“No big deal,” Hajime repeated, smiling gently at Nagito when he lifted his gaze, “See?”

The other nodded again, his eyes drifting further down Hajime’s face, fixated on his lips with a far-gone expression. The brunet felt his heart thump harder in his chest, but he forced himself to stay put and wait for whatever the other did next. Nagito eventually looked back up, tucking wispy white hair behind his red ear, and stood back up on slightly-trembling legs.

“T-Thank you, for your–a-ah–support, H–H–” Nagito squeezed his eyes shut and dug his nails into his palms, swallowing, “–HHHHHinata. Kun.”

If Hajime was a bit skeptical about the apparent crush he’d realized Nagito had on him over the course of the time they were sitting there, he was nearly positive about it now. He sat slightly mesmerised as he watched Nagito wipe his palms on his black skinny jeans, pulling his jacket further around himself.

“I–I forgot, I promised Tsumiki-san I’d meet her f-for, um, tea,” the luckster smiled, visibly horrified (and a very bad liar, Hajime noted), “s-so I should probably get going before I’m late.”

Nagito bowed politely, chain on his belt clinking against itself as he moved. “T–Thank you for spending time with me–Hajime–! Even though it was short!”

“Ah, of course, Nagi–”

Hajime furrowed his brow with an intrigued grin as Nagito hurried away, not even allowing his friend to finish his sentence. The brunet sat in stunned silence as he listened to the soft footsteps echo further and further away (quickening in pace closer to the door he got); he didn’t move until he heard the door close, clicking in the latch.

Well, that was something… though, I feel kind of bad… I didn’t mean to scare him.

The Hope scratched his head, his heart light in his chest. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was slightly assholish to put the other man on the spot like that–clearly, Nagito was a little insecure about himself, even though he had no reason to be. After all, nobody on the island would care what his preference was! In fact, Hajime was almost certain that Teruteru and Mahiru were both open about being bisexual and lesbian, respectively, and no one batted an eye. He wouldn’t tell Nagito this, but Kazuichi and Ibuki had both asked Hajime what way Nagito leant on separate occasions. Whenever the others would joke with Nagito about ogling the girls–on the beach, for example–he would laugh it off and insist that he respected the girls far too much to stare at them. At first, Hajime thought this was because he was a respectful guy (and he truly was), but thinking about it now, he realized he likely did so because he simply wasn’t interested in any of them.

Hajime did, however, catch Nagito innocently blushing around Nekomaru when he’d take his shirt off on a hot day, or Kazuichi when he’d tie his hair back with his face slicked with lithium grease, or Hajime when he’d say something particularly funny.

Or Hajime when he’d ramble on to Nagito about how important he was when he was having a bad day, or Hajime when he’d ask him questions about his physical and mental health to make sure he was doing alright, or Hajime when he’d agree to hang out with him.

Come to think of it, Nagito blushed a lot when he talked to Hajime.

The brunet found himself blushing in return, touching his cheeks as he felt them burning. His heart fluttered and he cursed it–not knowing why–but the more he tried to fight it, the lighter it became.

There may have been a small possibility that Hajime was flattered and also slightly infatuated with the luckster.

Why though? I’d never thought about this before…

And it was true–he hadn’t. But he’d always thought Nagito was incredibly beautiful for a man; his skin was like snow and completely free of imperfections. His hair was wild yet tamed at the same time, wispy and framing around his defined face. He, even after what had happened in the game, tried his best to smile and have a positive outlook on life for the others, even if he didn’t have that same outlook towards himself. He was always kind and gentle.

Realizing that Nagito–to a degree–also found Hajime attractive had been the icing on the cake, apparently.

Hajime shook his head to try and free himself from the thoughts and glanced back at the books sitting on the table.

He smiled warmly at the thought of the luckster carefully picking them out, eager to see what information hid between the covers.

Another thought crossed his mind that made him chuckle out loud.

“Wait, Mikan doesn’t even like tea.”

…

Hajime had been hoping to sit with Nagito at dinner to ease his nerves (and also see if his heart grew airy now that he’d realized he had a slight crush). However, for the whole hour and a half that was open for the Remnants to eat, the taller man never appeared. The brunet opted to sit with Sonia, Gundham, and Kazuichi instead, laughing and talking with them, but the other never left the back of his mind.

I really hope I didn’t offend him or embarrass him too badly.

Once everybody who came dispersed, Hajime went back to his cottage, glancing at Nagito’s door before he went inside. Light shone through the crack next to the doormat, so he knew he was home. He thought about stopping by, but he decided against it, figuring he needed to recharge.

He’d showered, watched TV for a while, and ultimately decided to lay down at 10. It was funny that some of the killing game habits remained instilled within everyone even though the rules were no longer in place–everyone instinctively rose at 7 as well. He was tired, but as he laid in bed trying to sleep, he found that he couldn’t. His mind kept drifting to Nagito.

Nagito, Nagito, Nagito.

Every time he mulled over his name, his appearance, or his personality, Hajime felt his heart move further up his throat.

I’m… attracted to Nagito Komaeda.

At the beginning of the day, if someone had told him that he was, he would have laughed it off–he wouldn’t have realized the signs. Perhaps he would’ve thought of it as a harmless squish, but something about knowing that it was reciprocated tenfold made Hajime feel much more serious about it.

Nagito Komaeda is attracted to me.

Hajime supposed he always was; he had nearly confessed to him in the game, now that he thought about it, before aborting the confession last second. He’d showered him with gifts (like his favorite mochi) and was overly protective of the brunet. (Actually, he’d had liar’s disease and told Hajime that he hated him–had he confessed right then and he was only JUST NOW realizing?? Was he really that dumb?)

He hadn’t realized he’d gotten out of bed and slid his shoes on until he was shuffling along the dock, night air chilly on his skin.

He almost felt like he was outside of his body and watching himself as he knocked on Nagito’s door, standing in wait.

Izuru, is this you that’s driving me to do this?

Hajime could almost hear the monotone in the back of his mind, complaining of getting bored of the repetitive thoughts. I don’t want to listen to you mull this over much longer. It is better to act than to dwell.

The other didn’t come to the door, and Hajime rubbed his arms in an attempt to warm them up, the water making the air colder than usual. After another beat of no answer, the Hope went to turn on his heel, figuring he could always check in on him tomorrow.

The door behind him clicked open, warmth from the cottage gracing over the backs of his arms. Hajime turned his head, met by Nagito, who had the door cracked open just enough to see out of it.

Hajime concluded that he was most definitely on autopilot for the time being when he blinked at the white-haired luckster, no hesitation whatsoever. He didn’t even allow the other to get a word in.

“Nagito, do you want to go on a date?”

Hajime thought he was going to have to catch Nagito before he fell, shock spreading across his face as he choked, grasping at his chest. Soft cotton balled in his fist and he hunched over slightly and gasped for air.

“Hinata–are you trying to give me a heart attack–?”

It was an interesting reaction, to say the least, but Hajime forced Izuru to stop treating the man like a social experiment and more like the fragile guy he was. He supposed Izuru couldn’t really help it; he was wired that way–to seek after anything he could find interesting.

He reached out to place his cold hands on Nagito’s biceps to steady him, the pale skin burning hot. “Hey, hey, Nagito, relax, it’s okay!”

The luckster lifted his head; his green eyes were dilated immensely as he looked the Hope over, trying to catch his breath. He was so, so vulnerable, and Hajime felt slightly honored that he was one of the only ones who had ever seen him like this.

“Can I come in?”

Nagito swallowed and nodded, turning and floating into his cottage. Hajime followed, shutting the door behind him, watching from the mat as Nagito sat on his bed (it was messy, Hajime noted, he must have been sleeping). Frail arms wrapped around his own torso, pulling his legs up to cross them against the sheets. He wore pajama pants that were almost a size too big, falling down a little and revealing sharp hipbones.

“You know, Hajime,” Nagito finally said, voice breathy as he was on the verge of tears, “it’s not nice to tease.”

“I’m not teasing you,” Hajime responded immediately, sounding a bit hurt at the idea, “I’m serious.”

Nagito just shook his head, inhaling sharply as he hid his face in his hands. Hajime approached him carefully, not wanting to upset him further but not wanting to leave him as he was.

“I should have tried harder,” Nagito began, voice muffled in his hands, “I shouldn’t have admitted it so easily. I should have denied it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hajime insisted, moving closer. He sat down on the bed slowly as to not disturb the luckster much.

“I wish I didn’t mess everything up. I wish I could just be normal,” Nagito sniffled, and Hajime happened to notice that his hands were wet with tears, “What bad luck. I wish I could swallow my feelings, but I–” He wiped his eyes, wedging a hand in his hair, “–but I can’t–”

“–Nagito, please listen for a minute!” Hajime threw an arm around the other’s shoulders, pulling him close and strapping his other arm around his chest. Nagito seemed a bit thrown off by the embrace but welcomed it. “You’re normal. Your feelings don’t make you any less ‘normal’. Ignoring your feelings isn’t healthy. I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me, but I also want to apologize.”

The fragile man looked over to the Hope with glistening green eyes, confused. Hajime cleared his throat, reaching out to hold a wet hand. It didn’t bother him no matter how self-conscious Nagito silently was about it.

“I didn’t realize that you weren’t exactly comfortable in your skin just yet. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that; it was rude of me and I’m really sorry.” Hajime looked at the plaid of Nagito’s pants, squeezing his hand. “It was just a genuine, honest question. I think no differently of you than I did before. If anything, haha…” The brunet tilted his head; it was his turn for his cheeks to dust pink. “It made me realize that I might be attracted to you? Just a little?”

Nagito’s tired eyes were wide as he looked Hajime over in disbelief, mouth hung open slightly. His hand was still held by the other, and in a move of nervous longing, the luckster intertwined their fingers. His heart panged when Hajime didn’t pull away, rather squeezing his hand tighter.

“What…?” He finally spoke. He seemed a little hurt, but only because he felt that Hajime was wasting his time on someone like him. “Why?”

“Why not?” Hajime countered mindlessly. “You’re gentle, you’re sweet, you’re pretty…” He looked to the ceiling, sucking in a deep breath before he continued. “You always spend time with me even though you could spend time with the others. You deal with my insistence that you take care of yourself better and you actually do if I push you hard enough. You put up with my temper and my issues with geometry.” He stifled a giggle out of the other, which he took to be a good sign. He smiled himself, chuckling. “What the fuck is a dodecahedron?”

Nagito began to laugh, eyes slightly hidden behind the apples of his cheeks as he smiled, and Hajime’s cheeks burned lightly. The paler man put his metal hand overtop Hajime’s that he held in his organic one, squeezing carefully with the prosthetic.

“Okay, okay, Hinata-kun,” His skin was flushed beautifully. “I… didn’t realize you had feelings as well.”

He actually didn’t openly admit to having feelings until now. I had just put two and two together.

“I don’t think I realized either,” Hajime admitted, “because I thought you were straight.”

“Huh?” Nagito was shocked again, but for an entirely different reason. “Really?”

“Yeah. I always thought you were pretty, but I don’t think I let myself get fixated on it for too long because I didn’t want to catch feelings for someone I didn’t have a chance with. Nobody else on this island compares to you.”

Nagito was flattered–he instinctively wanted to argue, but his mind trailed back to Hajime trying to get him to talk better about himself. He thought it was ironic that he’d considered Hajime the unreachable one; the idea that Hajime thought the same thing about him seemed insane.

Though not impossible, apparently, he supposed.

The white-haired man let Hajime’s hand go, pulling back and chuckling lightly. “What luck… I wonder what bad luck will follow this?” He looked up at the other, wiping his cheek again. “Hinata-kun thinking I’m pretty… I really am lucky.”

Hajime knew there was a compliment in there somewhere, but he made the decision to brush it off to focus on reassurance instead. “Enough with your luck; can’t you allow yourself to be happy, Nagito?” The brunet brushed some of the white hair behind his ear. “You and I both know that our luck counters the other. Our luck is forfeit as long as we’re close. Nothing bad could follow this because I cancel you out.”

Boldly, Hajime reached out to hold Nagito’s chin, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “You deserve to be happy, so you should be.”

The luckster nearly melted, giggling and hugging himself in reaction. Hajime chuckled tiredly, pleased that the other no longer seemed bothered by the earlier events. Seeing Nagito genuinely smile made him feel butterflies; he was truly gorgeous. The prettiest boy he’d ever seen.

Hajime rubbed one of his eyes in fatigue. “So? What do you think?”

Nagito sighed in content, splaying his hands across his knees with a small grin on his face. Ultimately, he looked up, gaze gentle and genuine.

“If you mean this, Hinata-kun, and you truly wish to take me on a date–” Nagito smiled and Hajime’s heart melted, “–then I’d love to.”

The brunet broke out into a grin, feeling giddy like a high schooler. “Great!”

“Great!” Nagito echoed, nervous now for an entirely different reason.

“Then! I should go!” Hajime stood, and Nagito nodded in understanding, nodding too. “I don’t want to keep you up! Sorry to bother!”

“You aren’t bothering me, Hinata-kun,” Nagito chuckled, smiling behind his hand, “You can come to me any time. Isn’t that what best friends are for?”

“Hahaha! Yeah!” Hajime heard Izuru taunting him in the back of his mind for being so awkward. What happened here? You’ve lost your composure. He made his way to the door and opened it. “So–I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast. Yeah?”

The luckster nodded, smiling with his teeth as Hajime drifted out onto the dock again. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

“Okay! Cool! Goodnight, Nagito!”

Nagito’s eyes were warm as he cracked the door. “Goodnight, Hinata-kun. Sleep well.”

The first thing Hajime did when he got back to his cottage was hit his back against the door and let out a loud groan, sliding down onto the floor.

What the hell was that?

Why had he suddenly gotten so nervous? Nagito seemed to be fine. Everything went swimmingly. Nagito felt better and he’d scored a date. They were going on a date. He was going on a date with the gorgeous, elusive Nagito Komaeda.

Oh… my god.

He couldn’t believe he’d actually done that. He wasn’t one to act on impulse very often.

But don’t you feel better now? Nagito certainly does.

Izuru could be a pain sometimes, but Hajime could be thankful for him every so often.

He’d climbed back into bed and slept like a baby. He had no idea what they were going to do on their date, but he felt like a teenager again as he dreamt of wispy white hair and pink-dusted cheeks.

[magioftheseas]

They Stand in Ruin

For @notcoolhajime

Summary: Hinata and Komaeda are sent to the remains of a long emptied city for a couple of missions. Things don't go well, and Komaeda ends up wondering about the validity of it all. And of himself. And of his relationship with the guy too stubborn to give up on him.

Rating: T

Warnings: Violent imagery and hinted trauma.

Notes: Post-sdr2 fics never get old because I am a simple girl of simple needs. This fic I tried to focus more on atmosphere and underlying tension, although that’s the kind of stuff I favor anyway? But yeah, this was a little rough figuring out, but I think it turned out at least okay. Please enjoy, Junee. ;v;

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

The metal was almost charred to a crisp, the stench of ash and smoke near suffocating.

“Some parts could still be salvageable,” Hinata suggested ever blankly. Komaeda wasn’t sure if he should laugh or scream in response, and he just settled for a polite nod.

“If anyone could salvage anything from this, it’ll be Souda-kun,” he said simply. “So let’s just gather what we can and mission complete. You won’t have to worry about me again for the time being.”

When Hinata Hajime met his gaze, his stare was exasperated but unyielding, that dark adorable brow furrowed.

“Right,” Komaeda said, allowing himself the smallest chuckle. “The remains must still be quite hot. Let’s wait for it to cool off.”

“Right...”

Hinata drew the word out between his teeth, like he wasn’t quite sure about it. Continuing to smile, Komaeda wisely chose not to comment. Instead, he stared at the tendrils of smoke, entwining before dissipating as they reached the pale blue sky. It was getting pretty clouded, and Komaeda could almost taste the upcoming rain on the air. Being rained on after such a disaster of a mission would just be the cherry on top.

And exactly what he deserved for being so arrogant as to think he could handle something so simple as the retrieval of important machinery. Even if something could be salvaged, it was clear this mission was an abject failure. Because of him. And his worthless, wretched luck.

“Aha,” he inhales sharply, covering his mouth to muffle any further giggles. “I’m sorry, Hinata-kun.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hinata replies immediately, as if on instinct. It’s the expected response to give someone in a situation like this. Komaeda’s heard it countless times, and it never rang less hollow, even in Hinata Hajime’s voice.

He wants to laugh until he wheezes, but instead he coughs a few times. He swallows, rubbing his throat with a sigh and notes that Hinata had drawn closer, hand hovering towards Komaeda as if poised to act. Just in case.

Komaeda’s smile widens as that hand drops, Hinata averting his gaze almost shamefully.

“...it’s not your fault,” Hinata repeats so lamely that it’s pitiful. Komaeda almost feels sorry for him. How funny. How stupid.

Thunder rumbles in the distance, and there’s a jagged flash that lights up the sky.

“It’ll definitely storm,” Komaeda says cheerily at the sight. “I guess we should get shelter pretty soon. While I’ll be fine, I worry about you being struck by lightning, Hinata-kun.”

“I guess that’d be one way to wake up Kamukura Izuru,” Hinata mutters, rubbing idly at his scars. Komaeda’s expression didn’t change, instead he just turned on his heel.

“Let’s just hurry.”

“Uh... Right.”

Irritably, Komaeda’s foot dug into the dirt.

--

They gathered up some bits of roasted metal and wiring and had it carried back to headquarters. But because they still had more scouting to do, they weren’t allowed to leave. Instead the storm rumbled, and the two of them took shelter in a broken down office building.

“I wonder if my parents worked in a space like this,” Komaeda remarks, almost idly. The place wasn’t completely trashed, some office corners had remained in the state they were before the disaster; it was just completely abandoned. There were some crude crayon drawings taped to desks, torn and crinkled with age. Komaeda hummed before wrapping his arms tighter around his knees. “What about yours, Hinata-kun?”

“I don’t really know,” Hinata replied. “Actually, I don’t even remember.”

“How boring!” Even though I have no room to talk. “Hey. Do you think you would’ve ended up here as a faceless worker if you never agreed to the project and if the world never fell apart?”

“Probably.” Hinata doesn’t even miss a beat although his expression dulled further. “What about you? If you didn’t have your luck and if the world never fell apart...”

“Probably the same,” Komaeda said, almost wistfully. “But even without the pressure and the people—this place is suffocating.”

It was also gloomy and dreary, and he doubted that would change with the lights flicked on and everything fixed up. There was a rustling chill, perhaps from the storm outside, and Komaeda shivered.

The thunder boomed and for a single childish moment, Komaeda wanted to cover his ears.

“Komaeda?”

He doesn’t respond, instead squeezing his eyes shut. Words don’t run through his mind so much as fuzz and static. Crackling and popping to the point where it felt like his very skull was bubbling. There was a low droning buzz, one that caused his head to throb.

The sky crashes, and Komaeda nearly jumps when his shoulders are suddenly gripped.

“E-Easy, easy!” Hinata yelped, and while Komaeda did initially still, his face also twisted into a vicious scowl. All Hinata offered in return was a grimace. “I was just checking on you.”

“I’m fine,” Komaeda hissed, shoving at him with the robotic hand. Even with the sturdy metal, Hinata’s form was unyielding as ever. Komaeda wanted to laugh but he also wanted to scream.

“You don’t look fine,” was Hinata Hajime’s ever clever retort.

Why? Because I don’t feel like smiling?

That was probably exactly it. Thankfully, smiling can come as easily to him as breathing, even when he doesn’t feel like it. The corner of his lips curl upwards.

“I’m fine,” he said again.

“Liar.”

It’s as if you want to make this difficult. How unfortunate.

“You’re awful,” he said sweetly. “Shouldn’t you read the mood? Or do you just not care because you’re awful?”

“If I didn’t care I wouldn’t ask.” Hinata’s eyes narrowed sharply. “You’re the one being unnecessarily difficult.”

Unnecessarily. What a truly dull word to use.

“You’re being pushy.”

“Maybe so.” At least you admit it? “Still that’s only because I... I worry about you.”

There’s a strange delay in the admission. Komaeda quirks an eyebrow at the even stranger rise of color in Hinata’s cheeks. Hinata averts his gaze but he’s still so shamefully expressive. So terrible at lies and obfuscation. So easy to read.

I always adored that about him, Komaeda thought bitterly.

And now?

“Someone like you shouldn’t worry about someone like me.”

“And yet I do,” Hinata snapped. “Sorry. Neither of us can do anything about that.”

“Not like you would try to,” Komaeda replied, smiling blankly. “You’re much too kind, Hinata-kun.”

“I’m not that kind. I’m not so kind that I’d worry about just anyone.” Chewing his lip, Hinata’s features pinched and twisted in a way that was almost as engrossing as it was unpleasant. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Oh.” Komaeda chuckled softly. “Is it?”

To that, Hinata just gave a small but firm nod.

What’s on your mind?

He’s wondered that often, especially recently. There were times where he’d imagine Kamukura Izuru, the long black tendrils of hair twisting around Hinata’s neck. The striking bone white of his head scars leaking black and blood. Even now, Komaeda fingers his own scars, long hidden by his hair and there is a dull ache in his skull.

Unlike Hinata Hajime who filled his head with talent and the world, for Komaeda there was nothing but a spreading rot, a desolate place. A ruined land that would only lead to further decay until it all crumbled into dust and ash. Even now, Komaeda is tempted to set himself on fire to at least go out in a blaze even if it’s not one of glory.

No, he’s long given up on becoming a beacon. Someone like him really was best suited to an uneventful passing, something mundane like a heart attack or pneumonia. That he survived this long really was a joke.

Especially in such a state, Komaeda thought, curling his mechanical fingers and listening to the whirls and twitches.

Hinata is looking at him too, hazel and crimson both dark and unreadable. It’s uncomfortable. So much so that Komaeda wants to throw a rock at him. He would’ve if not for Hinata’s head jerking away.

It’s infuriating.

Komaeda stands up. Thunder booms. The wind is whistling. Komaeda turns his sights to outside, where the fog is only briefly alit by a lightning strike.

Without thinking, he strides forward. Before he can even feel the damp rush of air from the cracks in the windows and walls, a powerful grip yanks him back.

“What the hell are you doing?” Hinata hisses, and his arms wind around Komaeda like a snake. Like rope, binding him and keeping him trapped. “You’re not going out there, I don’t care what suicidal wish you have!”

“I wouldn’t die,” Komaeda snapped, glaring at him as if he were stupid. “The opposite, in fact. I just wanted to feel alive.”

“Even if you didn’t die, you would at least get injured,” Hinata huffed. “Be it from debris or even the wind knocking you down.”

Komaeda reddened in anger at the thought of being seen as so weak.

“It will take a while for it to calm down,” Hinata just went on. “Be patient. If you’re that bored, we... we can just talk.”

“What is there to even talk about?” You already know everything—so anything I say would be boring. “The weather, perhaps? It is quite windy. Quite rainy. Quite stormy. Isn’t that fascinating?”

“You don’t need to be that sarcastic.” Hinata frowns at him, but his grip doesn’t lighten. It’s annoying—the dissonance between that wilting dismay and that unforgivingly constricted hold.

Komaeda sighs and presses his very aggravated pout into Hinata Hajime’s shoulder.

“You’re insufferable. Incorrigible. And just—irredeemably ignorant.”

“Sorry.”

It’s a low mutter, so quiet that sincerity was difficult to gauge. But Hinata does lift a hand and cups the back of his skull. As if the rotten thing were precious. It’s frustrating to the point of tears.

“Komaeda, you know I...don’t hate you, right?”

“I wish you did,” Komaeda whispered. “It would be so much easier and simpler if you just hated me like everyone else.”

“The others don’t—hate you either.” Hinata sucked in his breath. “They’re just—not sure how to approach you. In their defense, you don’t make that easy.”

“It’s easier that way,” he insisted. “With my luck being the way it is, and with myself being as lowly as I am.”

“Still, that...” Fingers start to weave through his hair. “Wouldn’t it be better if we all reached an understanding?”

Komaeda was so exhausted by this that he slumped. Hinata kept him upright.

“I would still like to understand you,” Hinata murmurs, tentative. “Especially since I know you’re not a bad person. You’re still the one who reached out to me in the beginning.”

Of course I remember that. The ocean waves. The shimmering sun. The beautiful unknown boy on the beach.

“Just shut up,” Komaeda griped tiredly.

To his credit, he had. He also continued to hold him even as Komaeda’s eyes squeezed shut.

--

They gathered up the remains of the Monokuma unit. The metals were now burnt, rusted, and even more twisted thanks to the storm. To salvage anything from this would take a miracle and Komaeda severely doubted the former Ultimate Mechanic was capable of even that.

But, they packed up the material, and their hands were left dirtied. The other agents left with that, leaving them behind without another word.

Komaeda watches them go, picking at the smudge beneath his nails.

“Ah, Komaeda, you didn’t have to...” Hinata trails off as he takes his right hand. His brow furrows as he feels out blisters. “Mmgh.”

Hinata-kun’s own hands are warm but firm, Komaeda thinks dully. Undeniably strong and yet gentle. It’s unsettling.

“Even someone like me can handle a little bit of heavy work,” he says with a shrug. “Really, you expect me to collapse just from that?”

“Not collapse, no,” Hinata mutters, squeezing his hand. “Your metal arm can sustain two tons, but it’s still attached to your shoulder, which I can’t say the same for.”

“Like stitching gold into rags,” Komaeda chirped. “Of course, there are other uses for it.”

“Yeah.” With a frown, Hinata suddenly pinches his cheek. “So that’s a terrible comparison.”

“A-Ah! Haha! Sorry, sorry! Please don’t pull so hard!”

Hinata lets go, but he’s still unimpressed. Specifically, he let go of his cheek—but not of his hand.

Komaeda’s pitiful smile strains and twists, and he tugs his hand back. Hinata does release it, then, and he blushes quite darkly.

“I...” Biting his tongue, Hinata made a complicated noise. “We should probably get going. We still have more surveying to do.”

“Yes,” Komaeda agreed cheerily. “We do.”

--

The Future Foundation had long evacuated everyone they could find and as a result, what remained was ruined, abandoned buildings, and the occasional malfunctioning if not outright collapsed Monokuma unit. There were other locations the Future Foundation was focused on right now, but Komaeda predicted that it would only take a few years for this city to be rebuilt and repopulated.

As it stood, it was vacant and eerie. Still in rubble, no electricity, and thoroughly ransacked for supplies.

“Some of the buildings are unstable,” Hinata remarked. “So stay close, Komaeda.”

Komaeda half-listened, staring up at the dull gray sky.

“There was this series I read once,” Komaeda found himself saying. “About someone who could leap through space.”

“So teleportation?” Hinata asked wryly. “That’s a pretty convenient superpower.”

Kamukura-kun could move so quickly that it was akin to that, Komaeda recalled as he stepped around the broken-off corner of a building. But that wasn’t the same thing, because—

“What do you think is the line between time and space?” Komaeda wondered. “If you could move to any space instantaneously, then would you theoretically be able to leap forward in time?”

Hinata pauses, mulling it over, and Komaeda wonders if Kamukura Izuru is already supplying the answer. Before Hinata can open his mouth, Komaeda went on.

“The person who could teleport believed that they could, and thus they took that leap,” he said. “It was risky, of course, for you can never be sure what will occur in the space you occupy in a different point of time. And you can never be sure—what exactly will happen in the future. When that person traveled far enough, they found they stood in ruins, surrounded by the corpses of people they found dear.”

“Ah,” Hinata intoned. “One of those stories.”

“I like time travel stories,” Komaeda said quietly. “I enjoy time loops, where someone tries to prevent tragedy, tries to right wrongs so that the world stays in-tact. That determination, that desperation to overcome despair is beautiful.”

Of course...

“They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results,” Hinata said. His voice was low, monotonous, and for a moment, Komaeda had a flash of walking side-by-side with someone impossible like this, with long, swaying black hair under a sky as red as his hollow gaze.

Komaeda punches his shoulder with a poorly curled fist, and he can almost taste blood brimming from where he bit too hard into his lower lip. Hinata wasn’t affected by the former, but because of the latter, he stilled immediately, scowling as he turned.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he snapped, pinching Komaeda’s cheek again. “How many times do people have to say it?”

Aha. You sound like Matsuda-kun.

“It’s because you’re so frustrating,” Komaeda chirped right back. “It’s so maddening that I want to bash my head in.”

“Then just talk to me!” Hinata’s voice rose exponentially. “You can even yell at me if you want!”

Saying that...while shouting... You really are an aggravating person.

“I don’t really want to talk,” he said. “It’s exhausting. Aha, of course saying that is hypocritical, right? I’m sure you find me plenty exhausting. But it’s not like I asked you to tolerate me.”

“No,” Hinata conceded, letting go of him. “I chose to because I want things to get better between us.”

Between us.

What was between them now was cold dust, easily swept away by a colder breeze. What surrounded them was the remains of a once ordinary city. A place that likely hadn’t been anything remarkable even in its prime. Komaeda only barely remembers its name.

“How mature,” he muttered. “As befitting an Ultimate Hope, I suppose.”

He almost wants to puff out his cheeks. Throw another temper tantrum. He wonders if doing so will cause Hinata to lose patience and strike him.

It’d be easier that way.

If Hinata just hit him.

What kind of face would you make? I—whatever it is, it would surely be better than the one you have right now.

He breathes in dust and decay and rubs his cheek and mouth idly. There’s a slight throb, but it might just be a headache. He’s tired. Very tired.

“Do you want to take a break?” Hinata asks, brow pinching. “Maybe we can set up camp for the day?”

“I feel like barely anything was accomplished,” Komaeda sighed. “Is that really alright?”

“It’s because of the storm,” Hinata responds as if on autopilot. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s take a break. Maybe get some sleep. I doubt anything will change between now and tomorrow.”

Komaeda doubts it as well, but he still hesitates.

“The mission will take even longer,” he said. “Is that alright?”

Hinata nodded.

“Of course it is.”

Of course.

Of...course.

“Alright,” Komaeda repeated, nearly biting his tongue on the word. “Then, I guess I can’t argue too much. Let’s resume work tomorrow, aha. Haha.”

It makes no difference to me. Not at all.

--

They retreat inside an old school campus of all things because it was the easiest place to set up the tent. After all, who knows what could be crawling around? Thinking of it like that, it felt almost adventurous.

Nibbling on rations as he watched Hinata lay out their sleeping bags, Komaeda tried not to grimace at how close the two bags were. There was enough space, but Hinata was probably paranoid. Komaeda can’t exactly blame him for that, even if it must be unpleasant.

That said—Hinata looked warm cast in the light of the lantern, the shadows sharp in contrast. More so when Hinata did smile in his direction, albeit absently.

“You got any bedtime stories?” Hinata’s smile twisted, eyebrow raising. “Or am I just supposed to come up with one myself?”

Komaeda popped the rest of the ration into his mouth before closing the container.

“We’re not children,” he said, chewing before swallowing. “Unless you insist on needing one? What would you like to hear? The Crane’s Wife?”

“Anything happier?”

“Orpheus and Eurydice?”

“I said happier.”

Komaeda set the rations aside and crawled into the sleeping bag.

“There was a story about an unremarkable boy with no talent. Then he met a fairy who granted him all the world’s talent. That boy then saved the world. Happy enough for you?”

“What kind of nonsense is that?” Hinata asked, poking Komaeda’s shoulder as he turned away stubbornly. “Things didn’t even turn out that way.”

“Hence why it’s a story,” Komaeda sighed. The sleeping bag was cold enough that he ended up shivering, but even his meager body heat was sure to provide warmth after a while. “They’re fictional. Made up. They don’t have to make sense.”

“That’s wrong,” Hinata said, the words cutting through with the same force as in a trial, even in what was a low murmur. “It’s reality that doesn’t have to make sense. Fiction meanwhile should follow some level of logic.”

“Is that your Ultimate Analyst side talking?” He doesn’t keep the quiet venom out of his voice. “That’s a limited way of viewing things. It’s annoying. You’re annoying. Tell yourself a story, then. I’m going to sleep even though it’s going to be difficult because you annoyed me so much. I hope you’re happy.”

“Who can be happy in a situation like this?”

Who, indeed? If even the Ultimate Everything can’t answer—I guess it’s a question you just aren’t meant to ask.

How annoying.

Komaeda squeezed his eyes shut. All was quiet when it was dark. Hinata didn’t make a noise and all that could be sensed was the plushness encasing him. It was like nothing else existed save for his own heartbeat.

Although remembering that Hinata-kun is here is a little nerve-wracking.

Still he managed to relax. He had done so under worse circumstances, and he could do so now.

It doesn’t...matter...

He’s exhausted.

--

The world is vibrant and even with the sun shining overhead in the center of a sea of soft blue, there’s a nice feel and temperature. The sand is plush beneath his feet, and he giggles as he skips, bumping shoulders with Hinata Hajime.

Hinata Hajime, who gives him such a warm smile that the very sun above was stricken. Komaeda’s vision blurs, but he beams back without a care.

He stretches out his hand to brush his fingers against Hinata’s, but he’s far too shy to entangle them.

Still, he’s happy. Definitely happy. To be out here with a friend is more than he can ask for.

Yes, a friend—Hinata-kun’s my friend...

The thought makes him so giddy that he wants to cup his rosy cheeks with a laugh. That Hinata chuckles softly nearly makes him shudder with euphoria.

“Hey, Hinata-kun... I...”

Throb.

Suddenly he stumbles and crumbles into the sand. It happens in slow motion, and almost distantly like he’s observing from a screen. It doesn’t hurt, but—but his thighs are streaked with blood. So much so that the soft sand is clumping into dark goop.

Hinata Hajime doesn’t break his stride.

“H-Hinata-kun,” Komaeda hears himself stammer as he reaches out towards him. “H-Hey...wait up...”

Focused on Hinata’s blurring figure, he almost doesn’t notice his hand being pierced through. The splatter of blood spreads until it consumes his hand. Before his eyes, that hand morphs, the fingers warping and twisting, the blood-dyed nails elongating.

Hinata does pause, when he’s little more than a semi-defined shadow. That shadow, too, warps and twists. Tendrils of black that then lurch towards him and wrap tightly around his neck.

“H-Hi...nata...kun?”

His own voice is fading along with everything else. Disintegrating, melting, his body is being torn to shreds from the center. Everything is slick with blood and muck.

Filthy.

Filthy.

His body was decaying, eating itself the way he always knew the cancer and dementia would. His throat is being ripped open and gorged. He’s losing all sense of awareness.

How gross—

“How boring,” is the quiet remark as Komaeda Nagito is turned to ash and muck.

--

He only somewhat wakes, but there is a sound. A melodic sound so sweet and serene that he very nearly lulls back to sleep. He groans softly, and gentle fingers stroke his hair back.

He’s barely awake. What he does register, he does so detachedly. Like this was still all a dream.

“Mmhm...” The sound trails off into a hum. “Komaeda? You were having a nightmare.”

His sense of conscious feels like a complete fog. He’s too blurry-headed to even muster up speech.

“Ah. Still dazed. Is that because of my...?” An irritated mutter, too low to be comprehensible. And then, in a clearer tone. “Sorry about that. You should go back to sleep, though. You need all the rest you can get.”

His eyes begin to droop.

“Can you even hear me...? Ah. Never mind that. You’re probably real tired.”

I am tired, he thinks agreeably.

“...you might not remember this later or even be listening, but...”

So tired...

“You know... You really are important to me, Komaeda.”

That gentle hand moves to cup his cheek, radiating a seductive warmth. Komaeda nuzzles into it without a second thought, sighing contentedly as he does.

“Even though you purposefully make things difficult—you are trying your best. If you had just wanted to sleep the rest of your days away, I don’t think anyone would blame you, but—you get up every morning and you take it all so seriously. I can’t believe I never appreciated that until now. Well, I can, considering the circumstances of before—but it’s still embarrassing to think.”

A thumb runs over his lower lip. Gentle. So gentle. It’s such a pleasant touch. It’s comforting. Alluring.

“Everything’s different. I want us to be close. I...really, really like you. So much. More than I should, probably.”

His vision is blurring, but he can tell that someone is close. Getting closer. Forehead pressed against his. Soft puffs against his lips.

“Komaeda... Nagito... I want...”

Then. A pause. Komaeda’s eyes fall fully shut.

“...god, what the hell am I doing...? I’m sorry.”

His hair is ruffled. Komaeda tumbles back into sleep soon after.

“I’m so sorry, Nagito.”

He falls into a dreamless sleep.

--

Everything is much clearer in the time he wakes. So much so that his heart nearly leaps into his throat when his eyes snap open.

That was—

It felt distant and foggy. Like another dream. Except—it hadn’t been a dream. It just felt like one. So much so that if his mind wandered enough, he’d easily forget all about it.

He’d forget. Easily.

...

Back in the simulation, one of the things Hinata gave him was a used memory journal. It was worn and withered, the smudged writing impossible to read. But he had adored it, every scribble in it. He even carefully wrote in it, wrote about his hopes and dreams, in shaky script that fit right in.

After he read the student files—

...

Ah. Does that part matter?

I’ll forget either way.

Komaeda pushed himself up, looking around the tent. It was illuminated by morning light shining through. The other sleeping bag laid there beside him, flat and unruffled as if it had never been used at all. Their bags still sat in the corner next to the lantern. Somehow despite having the whole space to himself, it was almost—suffocating.

Komaeda wiggled out of his sleeping back and slipped on his shoes before unzipping the entrance and crawling out. With the clouded sky in addition to the early hour, it wasn’t terribly bright just yet, but he flinches at it anyway.

There’s hard concrete under his feet rather than soft sand, but he still stumbles. His eyes find themselves locked on the cracks to help himself focus on something, anything. Cracks running deep, some with grass growing through—and a couple of flowers. Pure white daisies, small and easily trampled, growing in stubborn little clusters.

Flowers, huh? Even...in a place like this...

“Ah... Haha... Ahaha...” He covers his mouth, shoulders quivering. “E-Even in a place like this.”

He’s not going to tear up over something so—so small. But his eyes do burn a little, and he wipes at them furiously. Even when shut tight, the morning sun shines through, and when Komaeda does look, his gaze is immediately captured by the figure standing upright and steadfast in the dusty air.

Komaeda approaches, almost tentatively, self-conscious of his heart pounding in his ears, but still tempted by the other’s back. Those strong, locked shoulders, the defined blades, and how if he ducked against this person, he might be safer from the world than he’s ever been.

He does fantasize about it, embracing Hinata Hajime’s solid warmth, but he ends up stopping several steps shy of even being able to reach out and touch the other.

Because... I...

“Komaeda,” Hinata says, without looking at him, even as Komaeda perked up helplessly. “Did you sleep well?”

“I...” He nods, but chokes out the answer anyway. “Yes.”

“That’s good,” Hinata replies. “But are you sure you don’t want to rest a little more?”

I’m going to forget everything anyway. Hinata-kun must know that—that it would be better for him to move on without me. As if I don’t burden him so much already.

“Hinata-kun...” Trailing off, Komaeda nearly bites his tongue. Swallowing back bitterness and even some resentment, he pushed onwards. “I...have been acting immaturely lately.”

“You’re still young,” Hinata remarked and a strange smile twists at the corner of his lips. “I get it. It’s fine. I forgive you.”

“Someone like you won’t ever be forgiven,” he was told in the past, by himself and by others. But of course the penguin that could fly would tell him otherwise.

It’s ridiculous, but that ridiculousness, that audacity... I do still cherish it.

“Hinata-kun.” His own smile twitches on his face. “I...”

But I can’t just say any of that.

“I’m sorry...for my attitude.” He can say this much, at least. “I really do think things would be easier if you hated me, but—you’re just so stubborn...and eccentric, and I... I don’t want to hurt you. That’s why I...”

I’ve come across quite a dilemma.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever understand you and your feelings, and I’m not exactly used to being understood either,” he went on quietly. Hinata would still hear him, no matter how soft the words. “But maybe it would be better if we...reconciled, at least. If you knew that, at least, I don’t hate you either. In fact I...like you a lot...”

Hinata was quiet, but when he turned to face him, Komaeda was left breathless at the sight of that tired, warm smile.

God, if I could be killed right now...

“I already...” Hinata seems to think better of what he was about to say, so he just shakes his head and widens that smile. “I’m glad to hear it. Komaeda, I...”

“If you say it, I’ll definitely die,” Komaeda cut in seriously. “So, please, don’t. I-It’s taking a lot of courage just for me to be mature and upfront... I’ll definitely fall apart if you push it further, Hinata Hajime.”

Hinata does still, but he nodded.

“Got’cha. I won’t say it, then. Not now, at least. I’ll wait for when you’ll tell me it’s alright.”

When it’ll be alright—I wonder when that will be.

Right now, they stand in ruined shambles, but it won’t be that way forever. The world is getting rebuilt, the clouds dispersing, and lives are somehow, someway, being pieced back together. It might take decades, maybe even a century, and Komaeda’s positive that he won’t live to see it, but—

Maybe he will. He’ll just have to wait and see. For that—and for the time it’ll be alright to hear the words.

“Until then,” he said, still hesitant. “Let’s do our best to work together, Hinata-kun.”

Hinata sticks out his hand. Hinata’s smile is broad, and there’s a glimmer in his gaze. He thinks of Kamukura Izuru still lurking in those depths—but it’s Hinata Hajime who smiles at him, who is looking at him.

He tentatively takes Hinata’s hand, squeezes and shakes it.

“F-Friends?” he just barely chokes out over the sound of his pounding heartbeat.

“Friends,” Hinata agrees so easily that Komaeda could’ve shattered then and there.

I will forget this too, but...until it rots away or falls completely apart, I’m going to cling to this with everything I have. No matter how much it hurts and strains. That’s how—I know I’m still alive.

“Instead of just going to finish up scouting, can we rest for a little while longer?” he finds himself asking, tugging at Hinata’s hand. “Hinata-kun?”

“Uh...” Hinata does stumble a bit, regaining his balance even as his cheeks color. “Y-Yeah. That’s...fine.”

“Did you even sleep?” Komaeda frowned, quirking an eyebrow. “I wonder. If not, you should count yourself lucky that you have a concerned friend to make sure you do.”

Hinata burst out laughing. Komaeda, too, felt his face burn with red hot intensity.

“I’m lucky, yeah!” Hinata snickers, wiping at his eyes. “Real lucky. I could use more rest. You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

He did huff snootily as he dragged Hinata back to the tent. Hinata laid down, sighing contentedly as he did, relaxing more so as Komaeda rubbed his shoulder.

“I...really am lucky...” Hinata yawns. “I’m lucky that you’re still here.”

“If you say too much, my heart definitely won’t be able to take it,” Komaeda muttered. “But I guess I should be grateful.”

“Mm...” Hinata dozes. “Na...gito...”

It doesn’t take much longer for Hinata to fall asleep.

Komaeda sighs in return, ruffling the other’s hair tenderly.

“Hajime.”

[kokichi-and-co-imagine-blog]

May you please do a V3 AU where nagito and chiaki help hajime look for his ultimate lab?

Sure! Don’t expect this to be super great, since I’ve been trying to write this on for so long, but just haven’t been pleased with the outcomes yet. Maybe this time I’ll have something good.

Maybe spoilers, so under the cut.

Supportive Sarcastic Protagonist Finds Himself, Sort Of

As everyone got their lab, Hajime looked around. He was happy for everyone, but couldn’t help but feel under the weather. Sure, there was still one more random area to be unlocked, but… they only had a pencil. The pencil had some random writing that looked like it had been faded away with time, but he could make out the word “reserve.” It wasn’t much of a clue, but it didn’t deter Hajime in the slightest. He had to have a lab. He had to.

He felt Chiaki’s presence by him, making him want to try and act calmer. He wished that Chiaki could lend him some of her calmness, that she could pass it to him for just awhile so he wouldn’t have this built up anxiety.

“Hey hey, you shouldn’t worry too much. We’re almost to Canada, and we have full health. We’ll be okay.”

While he didn’t really get the video game reference, he was happy that Chiaki was being as supportive as ever. He would’ve said thank you, but a pale hand settled on his shoulder, causing him to jump. Turning around, he let his guard down when he realized it was just Nagito. He had proven to be concerning at times, but it didn’t seem like this was going to be troublesome. Hajime gave him a smile, which Nagito returned.

“Wow, being smiled at by an ultimate? This must be my lucky day! Ah, but… every day is a lucky day for me, in a way.” He laughed breathily, finding a hand through his insanely messy hair. Hajime rolled his eyes, but secretly just enjoyed the additional supportive presence.

How did he get so lucky as to have such helpful and good friends? They both had different ways to solve problems, but they balanced each other out nicely. Chiaki’s odd comments fazed them both, and Nagito’s rants were confusing for the gamer and Hajime. Hajime ended up going along with what they said most of the time, and ended up making some irreplaceable relationships in the process.

They searched the school together, talking Hajime out of his nervousness. He slowly accepted their patient comfort and laughed about some reference to their lives that had turned upside down to meeting a magical love fairy and becoming some sort of stud. Nagito pointed out some sunflowers that seemed to be growing in a small patch that had yet to be cleaned up by the monokids. He debated picking them due to their symbolic meaning being something akin to longevity and adoration with loyalty thrown into the mix.

“Ah, Hajime! What we have is a pencil, right?” Chiaki asked out of nowhere, making him turn to her suddenly. He nodded, feeling his heart beat a little faster. Did she think of something that would be able to unlock some place new?

“Oh, are we on the same page?” Nagito grinned. “Well, I won’t take the moment away, care to explain?”

“… yeah. I think I saw a paper that said something at the top like, ‘application for new Hope’s Peak Academy students,’ so maybe you should sign your name.”

Hajime looked behind them, and sure enough, there was a paper that looked crisper and newer than some of the others that they had seen on the walls of the halls. He looked at his friends before gulping and putting the pencil. His hand glided on the page, surprising himself with how natural it felt to write on it. It was almost as though the movements were frictionless. He stepped back, watching the paper. Nothing happened, and he was about to walk away, but the paper sunk into the wall. The wall lowly fell into the floor, as it eventually seamlessly blended into the floor. Hajime heard an excited noise come from Chiaki, and a little “alright!” from Nagito. He grabbed their hands as he walked into the new corridor first, surprised at how… normal it looked.

While it certainly looked different from everything else like the other ares close to labs, it felt so… mundane. The hallway looked so much cleaner, and had motivational posters for getting through school. Hajime knew that this was definitely where he was supposed to be, though he felt like he was missing some piece of the puzzle.

At the end of the hallway, there was a door with a symbol that was a hand with a pencil, writing out an equation. He tried to think about what would be on the other side of the door. Was he the ultimate mathematician? Ultimate teacher? He couldn’t think of what it would mean, but he was ready to find out.

He opened the door, gulping as he heard the soft click of the lock being open and giving way. As he opened the door, he was greeted with looked like an older classroom. A chalkboard adorned the front, with the words “ULTIMATE RESERVE COURSE” written in white. He looked around, and had a flashback to his dreams.

So the people really were talking about him. Saying he wasn’t all that special, that he was nothing more than a reserve course student. Just a person who didn’t have any talent, yet was probably chosen to come to Hope’s Peak because of his idolization of the academy. His heart hurt as he remembered being constantly reminded by the conversations around him that he was nothing special, just an average student with slightly above average grades.

He doesn’t check the room in the back, assuming there’s nothing but a supply closet. He left, feeling horrible. Chiaki trailed him, ready to calm him down.

Nagito, however, did a little investigating for himself. While Hajime did seem plain in a lot of the things he did, he also seemed a little… too talented for that to be the only truth. There had to be something more.

He moved around the desks, reading the papers on them. They looked like regular homework, and the textbooks in the back were definitely accurate in what the were showing. He looked behind the teachers desk in the front, finding a little black notebook with a name on the front.

“Kamakura, huh…” He flipped through the pages, stopping and reading one out loud, trying to grasp what was written before him.

“This world is full of boring people. People who lack talent stick together, and oppress those who do possess talent… Even though they know they’re insignificant, they don’t try to acknowledge their true superiors… They are profoundly desperate to drag them down to their level. And because of these bastards, this world has come to a deadlock. This world has stopped evolving. How boring. Well, the world is shaped by the will of the majority. It makes sense that it bends to those who lack talent. Boring people make no contributions to the world, not even a speck of dust. That’s why my teachers taught me that a certain degree of selection must be performed.“

That quote felt.. familiar. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he did have a memory of another person.

A male with long, black hair that liked to flow with the wind. Red eyes that pierced him and distracted him from his own impending doom. The man sat across from him in his head as he felt waves crashing beneath them. He didn’t even need to say a word to make an astounding impression on Nagito.

He looked to the back of the room, another door that seemed slightly older than the one leading into this classroom.

Before he opened the handle, a single thought started to swim through his head, one which he would find an answer to soon enough:

Is Hajime Hinata… really who he says he is?

[spider-moon-princess]

Time Travel CH 20

YOU GUYS, THIS IS CHAPTER 20!!! OMG I never thought I’d ever be able to write a fic in order like this!! This is a personal milestone! Thank you to everyone that’s been leaving nice comments, reblogging and liking it! TvT I’m so happy! You’re all so wonderful, thank you thank you! ^^ 

Part Nineteen

Masterlist

-----++------

"Souji!" A thirteen-year old Hijikata Toshizō chased a nine year old Souji. Both were wearing Kendo attire. A seven year-old Saitō sat to the side next to a seven-year old Chizuru with a worried expression on her little face, both were also dressed in their kendo attire, waiting for Kondō-san to arrive. 

A sixteen year old Isami finally entered the room. He had been talking to a teacher and borrowing bamboo swords for them to practice. Poor Little Chizuru probably wouldn't be able to hold one up, so he got her a wooden one to practice with that would be light enough for her to use. He sighed at the scene in front of him. Toshi had “Oni” written on his forehead and random scribbles on his cheeks. He must’ve dozed off a bit, since he was the first to arrive. Isami had gone to pick up Souji, Chizuru and Hajime from school. Sighing, he grabbed Souji by the collar of his keikogi, picking him off the ground for a moment. “Souji…Toshi…” He chuckled in amusement.

Hajime stood up and grabbed the towel next to him, quietly going up to Toshizō and tugging on his hakama for attention. “Sensei…” He held up the towel.

Toshizō sighed and took the towel from him, patting his head as he shot Souji a glare. He roughly rubbed his face with the towel in an attempt to erase the markings on his face. “Na, Saitō, I’ve told you to stop calling me ‘Sensei,’” he gave the younger indigo-haired boy a slight smile.

Hajime’s dark blue eyes sparkled a bit as he looked up at Toshizō. He had dubbed him “Sensei” after watching him in Kendō class and in Judo class; Toshizō was the star pupil of both sports for his year. He and Isami had been training for a long time together. The five of them were involved in both Judo and Kendō, though it had taken a while for Isami to convince Kodo-san, Chizuru’s guardian, to let her practice. Isami had presented many viable arguments, so Chizuru was able to join them for the classes.

Little Chizuru went up to Toshizō and handed him a water bottle for him to wet the towel in. She turned to Souji and gave him a pout. “Souji-kun! That was mean of you! Hijikata-oniisan looked tired!”

Souji dusted his hakama off when Kondō-san let him down. “He’s been waking me up way too early.” Jade eyes glared at the older older boy who was still rubbing his face. “I’m losing sleep because he’s being too loud when he's getting ready.” The two were sharing a room. It'd been two years since Souji came to live with the Kondō family. Like Hijikata Toshizō, he was a foster kid, taken from a broken and abusive home. He'd gotten used to everyone around him, though he was still wary of many people, but Kondō-san was one person he could definitely put his trust into.

“Souji, I know sharing a room isn’t ideal, but it’s just until we find a bigger apartment nearby.” Isami ruffled his brown hair. “In the meantime, Toshi, try to be quieter in the morning.”

Toshizō rolled his eyes, grumbling. “I don’t make much noise.” He really didn't, but Souji was an incredibly light sleeper, no doubt a trait from his old home. Every so often, he'd have to wake the younger boy from a nightmare.

Chizuru tugged on Isami's hakama. "Oniisan, are we practicing?"

Isami nodded and handed Chizuru the small wooden sword. "Here, I found one just for you this time. Let's practice some swings!"

Souji eagerly picked up the bamboo sword and stood next to little Chizuru. He adjusted her stance when he glanced at her.

Isami looked proudly at them as he called out directions. --- "...Papa?"

Isami snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at his six year old daughter. "Yes, Miyu?"

"The bubbles..." She pointed at the sink. "they're going to overflow, Papa."

"Oh-!" He quickly shut the faucet off and chuckled in slight embarassment. "Thanks, Miyu! Now, did you have something to tell Papa?" He grabbed the nearby dishtowel hanging on the counter and dried his hands, kneeling down to her eye level.

Miyu was the youngest of his two children, with the older one being a boy at eight years old. Miyu had long black hair that went down to her shoulders, and light blue eyes like her mother. "Papa, can you help me with my math homework? I'll even help you with the dishes."

Isami chuckled and patted her head. "Sure, honey, here," He handed her another dishtowel. "You can dry the dishes as I finish them, then we can put them away."

The sight of her husband carrying their daughter as she gently put the dishes away in their rightful place, warmed her heart. She stood at the enterance of the kitchen, looking at them for a few moments, until their boisterous son ran over and crashed right into his father's legs. She giggled at the sight as Isami bent down to pick up their son as well.

Isami looked back to see his wife, still dressed in her hakama like their son was. "How'd the lesson go today, Hinata?" He walked over with both their children still in his arms. They pecked, much to their children's dismay.

"Very good. Haru's learning quickly." She ruffled her son's dark brown hair. Though Kendo was just a hobby, she enjoyed it too much, so she volunteered at the dojo after school ended for the day, where she taught history to middle schoolers.

"Oh? That's good!" His son grinned and Isami returned the same grin. Hinata smiled at the sight. "Show me after dinner what you've learned. I have to help Miyu with her math homework."

"Yes, Papa!"

Isami set both of of his children down and the pair watched them run off. He looked back at his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him.

"What's on your mind?"

He blinked at her sudden question. "What do you mean?"

Hinata took out her dark black-brown hair out of its ponytail, letting it cascade down her shoulders. "You've been distracted since yesterday...though I can understand why, since we visited Souji yesterday."

Isami closed his eyes and buried his face into her neck. "Yeah..."

"But there's something else, isn't there?" She ran a hand through his black hair.

He nodded. "I can't...really say anything about it yet. I have to talk it over with Toshi first."

"All right..." Isami was an honest man. He didn't keep secrets from her, so there must've been a reason he wasn't able to say anything about this thing that was on his mind.

"Dinner's in the oven, though it's not as good as your food." Isami chuckled, lifting his head. "Miyu and I already ate, so go ahead and eat with Haru. I have to help her with her homework." He kissed her forehead lightly.

Hinata smiled, kissing his cheek. "Very well. I think Haru might need help with a science project too." ---

The sweet scent of cake was present before she even opened the door. It was almost too sickenly sweet.

Opening the door, the scent was even stronger, and it was no wonder, the whole kitchen was covered in cakes and dozens of cupcakes and cookies. With this amount of sweets, he was definitely stressed and it didn't seem like he had slept much.

"Hajime?"

Hajime turned around from his mixing bowl, his light blue checkered apron covered with flour and other baking ingredients. He spotted his wife, concerned black eyes, her curly hair up in a ponytail. She was still dressed in her turquiose scrubs. He'd lost track of time. "Ami..."

"Are you okay? This is a lot..." She looked around at the kitchen as she made her way over to him.

He was still for a moment before he closed his eyes and sighed. "...I'm sorry."

Ami cupped his cheeks. "Don't be. This is a hard time for you." She took one of his hands in hers and gave it a squeeze.

"...I've negelected you this month."

"It's fine. We could use the money." Ami chuckled, looking at his shocked face.

"It's not fair to you, and I've realized that..."

"Hajime, it's your way of coping. It's fine. You'll talk to me more about it when you're ready this year too."

Hajime gave her a very slight smile. "...I suppose I'll finish this batch and pack these up."

"Hijikata-sensei and the others are going to be thrilled." She giggled, shaking her head.

"Thank you...for being so understanding." He took her hand and kissed the gold band on her finger. "...I love you..." He murmured quietly, wrapping his arms around her.

"Me too, I love you too." ---

Souji had taken his medicine and had a few sips of his tea before his head settled on her lap again. He seemed to doze off the more she ran her fingers through his hair. Chizuru stared down at him.

Everything about him was confusing to her; her own emotions were confusing. Her heart skipped a beat every time he looked at her with those jade green eyes of his. Her hands ached to touch him like before. She yearned to caress his face.

But it wasn't him. She couldn't just use Edo-era Souji as a replacement for the Souji she'd lost. It wasn't fair to him, nor to her Souji. She could never forget him.

But the more time he spent here, with her, the more her feelings kindled for him, though she knew nothing about the way he felt towards her. She wasn't trying to replace her Souji, but she was trying to ease the pain of losing him. It had been so painful, it still was...

Souji's eyes opened. Yet again, he'd shown Chizuru this side of him. If he wasn't too careful, he just might continue letting himself get soft in front of her. He sat up suddenly. "Well, am I to use your lap as a pillow and the floor as a futon?" He couldn't turn to face her.

Chizuru blinked and stared at him. "...Oh, yes, I'll show you to your room." She stood up and led him down the hall, past her room. It was still hard for her to enter the room. Hesitating over the door handle, she finally forced herself to open the door. "Feel free to change the room to your liking. Everything is in its place."

Souji grabbed her wrist before she could turn away. "Is it that hard for you? That you can't even look inside or show me around?"

Chizuru clenched her fist, trying to yank it out of his grasp. "Okita-san, please."

"So it is."

"Okita-san, pl-" Her face was shoved into his firm chest.

"The least I could do is return the favor."

Chizuru clenched his shirt, letting her sobs overwhelm her.

Part 21

---+++---

Thanks to @flower-dragon and @shinsengumiscenarios for Hinata and Ami! ^^ I hope I did them justice! 

[mediocreronpas]

SDR2 Boys and an S/O with a Cute sneeze

Another fluffy imagine! Hope you enjoy.

- Mod Teruteru

Hajime Hinata

- He already knew you were cute.

- You had a cute and soft voice, an adorable aesthetic, even the way you moved was soft and cute.

- So it didn’t surprise him that you had a cute sneeze.

- Allergy season was the best for him.

- You walked into class with a box of tissues.

- “S/O…? Do you have a cold?”

- “No, I just have major allergy- ee- ah-cho!”

- When you looked up from your arm, Hajime’s blushing.

- “What’s wrong Haji-cho!”

- He wants to hug you so bad!!

- “Hinat-cho!”

- He’s standing up from his desk and hugging you.

- “Uh, Hinata-kun I- cho!”

- His face is full red.

- You can feel the heat coming off of his body.

- You were sweating. “Could you let go of me Hinata-kun?”

- He stopped hugging you, but his hands still rested on your shoulders.

- “You are really cute.”

- You're really confused.

- “I'm spreading germs everywhere why are you hugging me??”

Nagito Komaeda

- He hadn't expected you to do something that cute so quickly like that.

- You were just in the library, having a good time when,

- “Ah chm!”

- Nagito looked at you for a second, then went back to reading.

- “Ah chm, ah chm!”

- He didn't know what to do.

- He buried his face in the pages of his book to hide his blushing.

- “*sniff* Nagito do you have a ti- chm!!”

- The book was now on the table along with his face, still in the pages.

- “Are you okay Nagito?”

- “I-I'm just fine S/O. Why would you ask that?”

- He knew that you didn't have to answer that.

- “Nagito I’m serious, I need a tissue. Ah chm!”

- With his face still in the book, he pulled a tissue out of a jacket pocket and handed it to you.

- After blowing your nose someone shushed you and that was that.

Kazuichi Souda

- You were just watching him work on some tiny robots in both of your likenesses.

- When he showed you what the shell of your robot looked like, you praised him heavily on it.

- “D’aww! It’s so cute! You really know how to get the details right.”

- “Aw S/O, you really don’t need to,”

- Kazuichi moved his arm, brushing some kind of dust in your face.

- “Ack! *Cough Cough*”

- “Oh! No, I’m sorry S/O. That was my fault.”

- You wiped your hands on your face trying to wipe the powder off.

- “It’s fine. All you did was- Ah cho!”

- He squealed.

- “Ahh! Your so cute! That was so cute! So much cuter than the robot!”

- You blushed and hid your face with the collar of your shirt.

- “Whaaat? No I’m- Ah cho!”

- He used his hands to prop his chin up and just basked in your cuteness.

- “Mmm, stop.” You puffed up your cheeks with air. “You’re the cute one. Not me…”

- He hugged you and smiled.

- “You have to admit, we’re both cute.”

- You let the air out.

- “Fine we’re both cu- Ah cho!”

- “D’aww!”

- “Ehhh, stooooop.”

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

- You always managed to stay serious whenever Fuyuhiko was getting ready to discuss “business opportunities.”

- It was only once when you broke.

- This in turn made him break as well, but in a different way.

- Fuyuhiko was writing on some important papers while you were reading some kind of book.

- You did feel a bit sick that morning, so sneezes didn't surprise you in the slightest.

- “Ah cho!!”

- The Yakuza put his pen down.

- “The hell was that?”

- You scratched the side of your nose.

- “It was me. I think I might be getting a cold. Ah cho!”

- You sniffed and watched Fuyuhiko’s cheeks turn pink.

- “Something wrong?”

- “N-no I'm fine. You should take something for that-

- “Ah cho!”

- Fuyuhiko's cheeks were getting redder.

- “...cold.”

- You stood up to go to the bathroom.

- “Good- Ah cho! *sniff* idea.”

- When he was absolutely sure you left the room, he buried his face in his hands.

- Why is his girl/boyfriend so damn cute?!

Teruteru Hanamura

- You were just visiting the Hanamura diner to meet up with your boyfriend.

- When you walked into the kitchen, Teruteru was already there putting the finishing touches on a dish.

- When you announced your arrival he smiled and handed you the plate of food he was just working on.

- You sat down at a table and took a bite.

- “Mm, it's really good. The tangyness was a nice surprise, but you went a little heavy on the pepper.”

- Teruteru took mental notes as you kept talking.

- “But in a general sense it's a nice...a, a nice… Ah cho!”

- You covered your face with your arm. Recovering quickly you lowered your arm and kept talking.

- “Its a nice simple meal with a home cooking kind of feel… Uh, Teru?”

- Hanamura was covering his mouth with one of his hands, and keeping balance on the table with the other.

- “Is something wrong?”

- You caught him so off guard his accent started leaking out of his mouth like water.

- “N-nothin at all sugar- Uh! Ahem! You just surprised me is all.”

- You giggled and went back to eating.

- Finally, you know a way to get Teruteru as blushy as he does to you.

Nekomaru Nidai

- You had realized you were sick that morning.

- You didn't let that get in the way of Nida’s training streak and forced him out to the gym.

- Besides, your illness wasn't that bad.

- When Nidai got back, he brought a bag of cold stuff with him.

- Tissues, cough drops, the normal stuff.

- He didn't know exactly what to do with it all so he handed it to you.

- You took a box of tissues out of the bag.

- “Thank you Nida- ah cho!”

- He looked at you for a few seconds, kind of confused wether or not that was you.

- “Ah cho! What?”

- “It's uh, nothing. You're just cute.”

- You blushed. If it was any other day, you would have jumped on him saying how cute his is when he's flustered. But seeing that you were sick you settled on a smile.

- “Thanks Nidai.”

Gundam Tanaka

- Gundam had intoduced you to one of his newest rescued animals.

- Little did he know that you were allergic.

- “Please note that I wanted to name him 'Supreme Crimson Cadet Mun-C’ but since he is going to a house of humans, I settled with them for Pip.

- You dawed at the furry creature and went to pet it until you realized.

- “Oh wait, Gundam I'm allergic to the- ah cho!”

- He was so confused.

- He looked around for a second to see if there was a kitten near by.

- When you went to cover your mouth and nose with the inside of your elbow, Gundam realized that was you.

- “Oh,”

- You looked at him. “What?”

- Gundam stood up.

- “Of course such mighty sound would come from my wonderous Dark Queen/King! The world will know fear when they hear your sneeze of anguish! Ahahahahahahaa!”

- You and Pip were just staring at him.

- “That's cool but being around the Crimson Cadet over here is too much for my sinuses.”

Ultimate Imposter

- You and Imposter were just hanging out in your room. With your cute face and SHSL worthy persuasion, Imposter had taken off his mask when he entered.

- Both of you were doing research of someone with their social media when it happened.

- “Oh! Refresh the page, he just posted somethi- ah cho!”

- It was the highest pitched thing he has ever heard come out of a humans mouth.

- “Can you do that again?”

- You gave him a questioning look.

- “What?”

- “Make that sound again. I've never heard anything like it.”

- “I don't think I can just replicate a sneeze.”

- Is that what that was?

- Actually now that he realized it asking someone to sneeze is a pretty weird request.

- He wanted to hear it again though.

- J-JUST BECAUSE HE WANTED TO KNOW HOW TO IN CASE HE CAME ACROSS SOMEONE ELSE WHO SNEEZED LIKE THAT!!

- Y-You’re also really cute too…

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title : Making sense

Author : @alyssaleandra (komakaikoma on twitter)

For : @fhantomhives

Rating/Warnings : G, mentions of Hinata’s surgical scars

Prompt : for the fic - first date; for the fanart - soft forehead touch

Author/Artist’s note : I hope the recipient enjoys!! I tried to make something very gentle and heartwarming! There is an image embedded within the story.

-

Things are hard when the former Class 77-B ship off to real life Jabberwock Island. Unlike its virtual counterpart, it’s been abandoned for who knows how long, and it shows. There’s insect infestations to counteract, living quarters to rebuild, water sources to purify… Hinata never imagined he’d see his friends farming, but here they are with Imposter (who everyone still affectionately refers to as Togami because it’s familiar) assigning tilling duties for the week. They can’t rely on Naegi and the others on mainland to supply too much, lest they out their location to those who’d prefer to see the Remnants of Despair at the bottom of the ocean.

Hinata knows that the others are looking to him for some measure of guidance, even if no one’s said anything outright. He’s Kamukura Izuru, after all. The Ultimate of Ultimates. The one who babysat everyone’s pods until each was safely out of cryosleep and in recovery plans that mainly he (and later Tsumiki) was responsible for formulating. But if he’s being honest with himself, he’s had his fair share of being an Ultimate, and he’s happy to take the supporting role to more charismatic figures like Sonia and Togami. The irony of longing for a normal life is not lost on him, but he thinks undergoing a major brain surgery, surviving a killing game, and getting spit out into a completely changed real world is enough excitement for a lifetime. He’s earned a bit of normalcy.

…So of course he’d find himself fawning over Komaeda Nagito, of all people, once things have settled down around Jabberwock. Hinata’s bewildered by it when he realizes what’s happened; it’s like an errant seed found root in his heart while he was distracted with fixing cottage roofs, then budded while he was modifying meal plans, and then the second he had a chance to breathe and check in on himself, full blown feelings had blossomed right under his nose.

It’s hard, and a little frustrating, that it had to be Komaeda, because nothing’s ever been easy with Komaeda. Hinata had nursed something of a crush on the boy when they’d “met” in the virtual world and he thought that Komaeda was just a kindhearted oddball with a pretty face. That whole thing got dashed to pieces during their time in the program once he realized there was at least a few dozen more layers to Komaeda he had yet to scratch the surface of, let alone come close to ever comprehending. It was unthinkable, for a time, that he’d ever be able to feel anything other than confusion with a tinge of what he can only describe as unease towards Komaeda. Now, though, with everyone recovering and filling in the cracks left by their past lives, he feels a bit like he first did on that digital shoreline in the beginning.

Except, no, it’s more profound this time because he feels like really understanding Komaeda is something that’s within arm’s reach for him, rather than an amorphous, far-off concept.

He can’t pretend to fully follow all of the hope-obsessed boy’s fervid ramblings about life and fate, but… nowadays, it’s almost endearing. It’s just routine enough that it’s become comforting. Like Komaeda’s some piece of music that was too dense and intimidating for Hinata to really appreciate the first time he heard it, but now he’s developed the taste for it.

It helps that Komaeda’s achingly pretty, and Hinata’s always been slightly weak for the quirky pretty ones. Even during their conflicts in the program, Hinata had to reel himself out of those serene gray eyes sometimes—really yank himself out of a few unwanted idle daydreams about the Ultimate Luck who caused everyone so much grief, and yet—and yet—Hinata never could shake the desperate desire to figure him out. He’d always thought if he could solve the inscrutable puzzle that was Komaeda, just maybe they could be on equal footing again someday.

And so, it’s somewhat frustrating that it had to be Komaeda because Hinata knows by now how complicated Komaeda likes to make things for himself (and everyone around him), but it also makes perfect sense that the living science experiment known as Hinata Hajime would set his sights on the shining beacon of maladaptive coping mechanisms known as Komaeda Nagito. Since when has Hinata ever taken the path of least resistance for anything?

They aimlessly spend time together just like they did back in the program before things really went south. They do chores together, tag-team scavenging together, and spend cool off periods walking down the beach together. Komaeda still tends to fret over doing anything where his misfortune flares could pose a threat to Hinata, but they’ve managed to go unscathed thus far.

They’re sitting hip-to-hip on the sand and watching the sunset after a particularly lengthy conversation about their childhoods, when it occurs to Hinata that this is basically a date. He feels his heart kickstart at the notion and a heat creep across his face, and he’s suddenly scared to move or even so much as glance at the boy next to him, lest Komaeda be made aware of Hinata’s sudden onslaught of self-consciousness. He’s kept completely quiet about his festering feelings for Komaeda and never once dared to imply that anything between them means any more or less than what he has with everyone else on the island. He’s shy, sure, but he also just isn’t certain of Komaeda can handle that kind of information. He can practically see the spiral that would unfurl if Komaeda were to confront the reality of knowing that someone cared for him.

“Oh, sorry, did I say too much? Ahaha… I never know when to stop talking…”

Hinata’s ears tune in to the sad note in Komaeda’s voice, and he realizes he’s been spacing out. “No, no! I just got lost in thought, sorry about that.” His throat feels tight, and there’s a dozen things he wants to say but doesn’t know how to. “Um… Komaeda?”

“Yes?” Komaeda tilts his head, attentive.

“I was wondering if… well, if you wanted to—to come over to my cottage tonight?” It’s funny, really, the way everyday words rattle up his ribs and get stuck on his tongue like they’re something profound or difficult, given everything else he’s been through by comparison. It’s funny and embarrassing and so normal that it would make Hinata laugh if he weren’t preoccupied with not humiliating himself in front of Komaeda right now. “Just to… I dunno, hang out. Maybe we could… watch one of the movies that Asahina-san sent over for us.”

Komaeda’s eyes widen just a little as he processes this invitation before relaxing back to their usual calm state. “Hinata-kun, aren’t we hanging out already? Or am I mistaken?”

“W-well, yeah! But this is…” Hinata’s voice drops to a fragile murmur, “…different.”

“Different? Hmm… I see.” Hinata isn’t sure what it is that Komaeda sees, and that makes him nervous. The slightly taller boy stands up and dusts sand off his bottom. “I’d be happy to accompany you.”

And he smiles, framed by oncoming nighttime and high tide, and Hinata’s heart stutters. Okay, cool, he accepted it without being weird. Even if I didn’t really explicitly call it a date or anything. God, my collar feels tight right now. He tugs at the offending collar and tries for a casual smile. “Cool. Cool.”

They follow the road back to the inland.

Silence transpires, and in the bit of quiet, Hinata takes note of Komaeda’s hands swinging gently at his sides. Hinata’s never thought about the idea of holding them before, at least not in public, but once it crosses his mind, he can’t stop thinking about it. How would Komaeda react if he just… went for it? Would he be startled? Angry? Beyond that, how would it feel? Would it be clammy? Soft? Would it feel good? …Well, the hand closest to him is the metal one, so that’s irrelevant.

A past Hinata might have been content to let the idea remain as just an idea, but the Hinata now knows that if he wants something, he should probably chase after it without sweating the details so much. He reaches out and takes the mechanical left hand into his right. It takes Komaeda a moment to notice, due to a lack of nerve endings.

“Oh…” he says faintly, too caught off guard for much else.

“Sh-should I not…?”

They’ve both stopped walking so that Komaeda can stare down at their point of contact. He’s yet to put on any kind of discernible emotion about it. “No, it’s okay. It’s—nice. But it’s scary, too.”

“Scary??” Hinata’s grip loosens, prepared to drop the other boy’s hand and forget he ever tried.

“Because it’s so nice.” Slowly, carefully, internal mechanisms work together to tighten Komaeda’s hold on Hinata so that the connection isn’t lost. “It’s… hard to not wonder when my luck might strike again. And I know you have luck now, too, somewhere inside of you… But…” He shakes his head and dismisses the thought. “Never mind. Let’s get going.”

Hinata wants to protest and prod Komaeda into finishing what he was saying, but the gentle pull of Komaeda’s hand takes his attention by the reins. He hasn’t rejected Hinata, and he isn’t running away. That small realization fills Hinata with relief that he didn’t know he was hoping for. His step feels lighter as he catches up to his friend’s side.

-

Hinata sets up a tape on an old CRT that Souda put together, sits on the floor with Komaeda, and immediately finds himself regretting suggesting a movie. It’s impossible to focus with so many things weighing on his mind and the subject of his inner turmoil right next to him.

As if sensing Hinata’s thoughts, Komaeda leans against him, so warm and tangible on his shoulder. It seems he’s equally unengaged with the movie before them. “Hey, Hinata-kun. Would you mind telling me that you hate me?”

“…Huh?” The odd request catches Hinata off guard. “Why on earth would I ever say that??”

“It’d be the greatest comfort to me right now. The bad luck of being hated by you… maybe it’d make everything even. Maybe I could enjoy being at your side like this a little longer without fearing what might come next. But I’m too much of a coward to actually try to make you hate me anymore.” He outstretches his right hand, flexing and relaxing the muscles. Even as he talks of being hated, he nuzzles closer into Hinata’s shoulder, as if afraid Hinata really will say he hates him. “I used to try so hard to invite disaster in my life when things were going too well. It scared me so much to enjoy the quiet moments. It scares me even now, to be close to you and have your friendship. I always tell myself that I need to stop being selfish and push you away for your own good, but… then I see you every morning, still alive, still smiling, and my greedy heart can’t help but want to bask in you.”

He shifts and makes direct eye contact with Hinata. As frank as he can be at times, Komaeda always tends to direct his gaze elsewhere during conversations. His hand, or his feet, or just somewhere in the far distance. It always makes him feel unreachable. But this time, his stare is open and earnest. “After everything that happened, I wonder what my standing with luck even is anymore. I died in the program… but then I was alive. But then I had the apocalypse and my own horrible actions to clean up after.” He reflexively rubs where metal and flesh meet on his left arm. “So in the end, was that all good luck or…”

And Komaeda cuts himself off, like he’ll never find an answer unless he just takes action already, and he leans into Hinata and brushes trembling lips against a dumbstruck mouth. His eyes are rife with a dozen conflicting emotions, as Komaeda often is, but this time it feels as though one wrong move will make him burst and everything will come spilling out unfiltered. His eyes widen in something akin to surprise, as if he wasn’t in control of his own actions. Before Komaeda has the chance to overthink things or run away, Hinata catches him by a jacket lapel and pulls him close. He uses his other hand to wrap gently around the back of Komaeda’s head, reveling in soft white curls, and pulls their foreheads together.

“Do you feel them? The scars, I mean.” Hinata pulls his short bangs aside. “Sometimes I forget they’re there. But they remind me of everything we all went through… that we’ve seen hell and death and everything in between, and we’re still here. In the grand scheme of things,” he gestures between them, “this isn’t going to be what ends the world. …At least, that’s what I think.”

Komaeda’s quiet, for a bit. He inhales like he forgot to breathe. Then he breaks, and laughs, and laughs. His eyes water from the force of it. “Aha-hahaha! Hahaha! Ha…” He holds Hinata for support, and Hinata holds him back. Once the fit has passed, he sniffs and straightens up, face still slightly quirked with hysteria. “Perhaps—perhaps you’re right. Maybe it’s arrogant to think luck cares that much about what makes me happy. Maybe it never cared. I’ve been wondering about that lately. It’s a scary thought.”

On the surface, it’s a pessimistic notion, but for Komaeda to yield to the idea that, to some extent, things just happen and that he should do something that makes him happy without psyching himself out of it for once, is the kind of paradigm shift Hinata expects only a virtual death and rebirth could have brought about. “Luck never cared about what any of us wanted. Not just me. And maybe it’s giving luck too much credit to say that it’s what brought me to you.” Then Komaeda does something unexpected—tilting his chin upwards at a pretty angle and kissing the raised skin of Hinata’s forehead scars. “But whatever did, I’m glad for it. I’m… unspeakably glad that you’re still here after everything, Hinata-kun.”

It’s always a toss-up with Komaeda on whether or not his penchant for saying really vulnerable things will embarrass him. This ends up being one of the times where it does, and he flushes a bright red and looks away, direct eye contact finally too much for him. He’s nearly confessed to Hinata once before, but that was ages ago in the program, under far different circumstances. Perhaps this is the first time Komaeda’s ever been really honest about how much Hinata means to him. No wrapping it up in vague non sequiturs about talent and hope. Just, “I’m glad you’re here.”

It’s more powerful than a typical confession in some regards.

“Me too. I’m glad you’re here, too.” Hinata feels his face burning as well, but he tries to will himself to remain cool. “…This feels pretty dumb to say now, but I was trying to ask you on a date earlier. So, uh, this is a date. …If you want it to be. I feel like, after… y’know, everything, we need things like this. Normal things.”

Komaeda smiles genuinely, and fondness bears down on Hinata full-force at the sight. “I figured that was what you were trying to get at. It’s really funny, Hinata-kun, when I look at you and think about how your sheer will power broke us out of the killing game and probably saved us all, and yet you can’t even ask someone out without being absurdly awkward about it. I think it’s something I like about you.”

Hinata burns more furiously but can’t find the words to retort, instead opting to fold his arms and stare at the ceiling. “W-well… yeah. Those are two totally different things!! Maybe if lives were on the line, I could find it in me to ask you out a little more tactfully…”

“Hmm, I see, so saving lives is easier than trying to date me, huh? I suppose that’s fair…”

“Hey, you…” Hinata snags Komaeda’s jacket lapels again and pulls him close. The banter ceases, and the two enjoy a normal date, like they deserve.