#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ; ꜱᴏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴡɪꜱᴇʟʏ ❞ ◌ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴠ. ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Nagito 」

[not-bcring]

✩     「   @from-across-the-stars​   」    ✩   -   Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」   Nagito… is not fond of hospitals.

It’s a mundane sentiment; most people are not fond of them. But there’s a clear sourness within Nagito’s gut whenever he’s forced to step into one, stemming from conditions far more severe than commonplace unease. Ironically, his reluctance to come when not deemed necessary usually lands him within its sterile depths for extended periods of time. Confined to a familiar hospital bed, tucked away in a private room reserved for the frequent and wealthy visitor, Nagito silently laments the decisions that had brought him back here… and so soon after his recent checkup.

Illness really is a remarkably fast-moving threat when it comes to his fragile immune system. Certain what he was experiencing was a simple cold that would pass in due time, Nagito hadn’t expected to collapse right outside his room. As luck would have it, Mikan had been passing by. Able to get help even amongst her panic, Nagito had been spirited away to the place he hates most. A necessary evil that he’ll have to thank her for once he’s back on his feet. But for now, confined to a bed with much-needed fluids pumped into him and beeping machines monitoring his vitals, that shall have to wait. Thanking and sending away the two men at his side should be far simpler a task… It should be.

But from the moment Kazuichi and Gundham rushed into the room, as if Hellfire was licking at their heels, Nagito knew it would be an even bigger headache than the beeping of the machines around him. The two men look like they sprinted straight from whatever tasks they’d been engaged in when getting the news.

The steady noise of the monitors is already grating on Nagito’s ears, the lucky boy never able to fully tune it out no matter how much he’s been exposed to it. Wondering if it’s as splitting a pain for the others or that’s just his exhausted body making things more difficult, Nagito quietly studies the men beside him. Mainly Gundham, gaze now riveted upon the papers within the breeder’s grasp. Grey hues sharp, hands grab his blankets with enough force to turn already-pale knuckles white, trembling ever-so-slightly as he practically tries to will the breeder closer with wishful thinking alone. Intelligent as Gundham may be, Nagito prays that the breeder doesn’t comprehend the damning evidence in his grasp.

Gundham may tend to the medical needs of animals, but surely Nagito’s vast and varied history— doctors keeping extensive records on hand of ailments ( both physical and mental per request of Hope’s Peak ) , risks, medications, and whatnot —will go over his head. If that’s the case, then it’d be up to the others memory to cling to the overly-complex terms for later use. Although frankly, there are only two that concern Nagito at the moment. One still slowly dragging him to an untimely end while the other lies dormant, Nagito having overcome it twice already… Not that it matters if it returns, since his fate is already set.

At least it’s clear that Kazuichi is clueless to his condition.

About as clueless as BOTH men are to the slip of Gundham’s tongue, Nagito’s chest heavy with the unfortunate sincerity he heard within it… If it were anyone else other than them, he would easily explain what’s wrong with him. Knowing that it wouldn’t matter. That, morbid a truth as it is, they might find relief in it. Or at the very least, an apathy that Nagito is accustomed to. But he can’t say it to either of them. Not now. Not after that.

Smoothly snatching taking the papers from Kazuichi’s hand, feeling far more comfortable with them in his grasp face down on the blanket where they can no longer be studied, Nagito replies in an equally-smooth tone. ❝ Currently, I’m overcoming a virus that caused me to collapse… But you two should have nothing to worry about. My body’s reaction was more- severe than normal. ❞ Purposely steering the conversation to the present instead of fully answering Kazuichi’s question, Nagito’s disinterested gaze follows one of the thin tubes stuck into his vein, fluids carefully flowing in to help him regain his strength.

❝ My immune system is garage. Befitting the worthless trash it belongs to… ❞ Comment is made with little care to how it’d be taken, it making far more sense to Nagito than anything else so far. Sighing, as if bored of the entire event, he shrugs and explains, ❝ Once I’ve been pumped full of fluids and had a few standard tests done, it shouldn’t be long before I’m released… if I’m lucky. ❞ Grimacing, irritation breaks through his calm composure, tone holding a bit more bite as he picks at his blanket, ❝ If I’m unlucky, I may have to stay for a couple days while they run more extensive tests. As if that’s necessary. ❞

Looking as if he’s simply annoyed at the prospect of the hospital staff wasting his time, there’s no denying the faint quiver in Nagito’s hands, grip on the papers tightening ever-so-slight with a faint crinkle. He doesn’t want to be here any longer than necessary… and certainly not alone. ❝ Either way, neither of you need to waste your time here. ❞ And there’s that unconcerned smile. Empty but persistent, practiced time and time again as Nagito reassures others who matter far more than himself. ❝ This isn’t anything out of the ordinary for me. Frankly, aside from having company this time, it’s rather routine. ❞

Nagito forces his hands to stop shaking.

It’s time for Gundham and Kazuichi to leave.

They have better things to do.

❝ No need to concern yourself with a burden like me. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

[canon-fcdder]

(( Tag Dump - Nagito Komaeda ))

[not-bcring]

When Nagito would enter their the breeder's room, he would find Kazuichi perched on the dresser of all places, a small handful of perviously folded clothes and various makeup producrs lining the floor around the chest of drawers after having been knocked down by the mechanic. He looked afraid, which was rather typical for him, but this time the threat seemed to be a tangible one, his eyes trained on the floor by the bed until drawn away by the opening of the door.

"Nagito!" It was full of relief, something the lucky student was no doubt unused to when it came to the acknowledging of his existence. Kaz pointed wordlessly towards floor, and upon following his finger, Nagito would see a spider, not even a large one either, just a small ordinary house spider crawling about the items Kaz had knocked down. "Kill it!"

-  ✩   「 @from-across-the-stars 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」    Nagito walks into Gundham’s room as naturally as if it were his own, something unheard of for the Lucky Student. Normally hesitant to impede upon others spaces, even inviting him to a class event is a major pain; Nagito assuming he is not welcome amongst the others and needing to be told otherwise, several times. Yet there is no doubt in his actions, and with Nagito’s clothes and personal items scattered amongst Gundham’s and Kazuichi’s, one might assume he was actually walking into his dorm. He’s spent so much time here, it may as well be.

Seeing Kazuichi is no surprise either, the mechanic as commonplace as him. Sometimes Nagito marvels at how comfortably the three of them manage to co-exist in such limited space. But it somehow works, the room feeling cozy rather than cramped. At least, Nagito feels that there’s a certain charm to be found in such a well-lived in space. But that may be due to his experience being confined to sterile environments. Be it the impersonalness of a hospital or the sprawling isolation of his childhood home. When arriving to Hope’s Peak, he’d been taken aback at how- quaint it all seemed.

A paradise even better than his dreams had hoped for.

Nagito smiles at the mechanic, small and amused and tinged with a wonder at how such a tone could be aimed his way. Having experience with Kazuichi’s tendency to overreact, he doesn’t panic at the others terrified state. Figuring that, should there be a REAL need for worry, it’d make itself known. And then can be dealt with accordingly. No need to jump to conclusions and fall into the trap that’s already claimed his companion. A decision that’s soon proven to be the right one, Nagito’s curious eyes following the others finger… to the tiny, eight-legged troublemaker.

Lightly laughing at what’s apparently tormenting his boyfriend, Nagito walks up to the creature as easily as if it were a puppy. To the Lucky Student, there might as well be no difference between conventionally cute creatures and the more... creepily crawling ones. Bending down, he rests his hand against the ground, the intruder surprisingly scampering onto his offered palm. Despite never having met before this moment, it’s as if the two are in sync. Continuing its quick skittering, Nagito effortlessly turns his hand around to avoid losing sight of the spider, his other hand moving so the creature may crawl about the two as it pleases.

❝  Now, now— there’s no need for anyone to die.  ❞  He laughs, choice of words unintentionally suggesting— or perhaps purposely teasing —that the spider wasn’t the only one in danger of taking its last breath. Truthfully, the creature is harmless. At most it could give Kaz a nasty bite, but without any poison to offer aid, it’d be an annoyance at worst. But from Kazuichi’s reaction, one would assume it was seconds away from consuming him whole.   「 ☆ 」 

[not-bcring]

✩     「   @from-across-the-stars​   」    ✩   -   Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」   If Nagito were in a better state of mind, he would oppose the coat. A garment of Gundham’s doesn’t belong on his lowly body. Especially not when soaked from the fury of nature, blood and dirt from the wounded canine also ruining his shirt. It’s going to get on Gundham’s coat. Filth and misfortune, touching the threads, thanks to Nagito’s incompetence. If he were in a better state of mind, he’d hate himself for it… but all Nagito does is wordlessly put on the large coat, dwarfed by the way it hangs on his slim body. Drenched by rain and drowning in the dark fabric, Nagito looks as if he’s the one knocking on death’s door.

Yet his breathing starts to steady, slowly but surely, at the new weight holding him down. Catching the towel, only half paying attention to it, it hangs limply in his hands as wide eyes watch Gundham carry the wounded animal away. A hesitant step is taken forward, as if Nagito were pulled along by a string. Compelled to follow his fallen companion and their newfound savior. Startling at the command, breath catches and senses seem to return at having something to DO. A task set upon him by someone oozing control in a situation Nagito feels helplessly caught up in. As his luck tends to do, whisking the weak man around in its tumulus waves of fortune and tragedy. Freed from this haze, Nagito slowly but obediently steps back, silently sitting down on the chair as if he were a canine himself following his master’s orders.

Eyes trail down to the towel in his shaky grip, as if realizing for the first time that it’s there. Gaze half-lidded with fatigue, shoulders loosen and posture slumps slightly with a sigh. Pounding heart finally starting to settle, he wordlessly ruffles his hair with the towel, messy locks fluffing as they are partially freed from the weight of water. Wiping his face with the towel, grey hues peek from the top of it, watching Gundham’s movements with an intensity as if he were performing the tasks himself. Sharply observing everything, from the expression on the breeder’s face to the deft movements of his hands. If one were to witness the scene, they might think that Nagito has no faith in the other man. In actuality, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Nagito doesn’t doubt for a moment that Gundham will succeed. His prowess, his hope, shall triumph over anything. Even fate itself, should the breeder command it. Knowing his assistance is unneeded, his faith utterly worthless, Nagito still focuses everything he has, everything he IS, on believing in the other. In casting aside any possibility that things will end poorly for the dog clinging to its thread of life, frayed and taut but not yet severed. No matter if his wishes never influenced the fates before. This isn’t about his worthless luck. It’s about Gundham’s formidable talent.

He can do this. He can do this, he can do this, he can do this—

When Gundham finally steps back, Nagito releases a breath he hasn’t realized he was holding. Chest shaking with the exhale and fingers letting go of the towel on his lap, aching from the force of his trembling grip. It slides to the ground, Nagito not noticing its silent descent. His focus is too rapt upon the discarded pile beside the now-still creature, covered in filth and blood. So much blood… Throat bobs as he swallows back his bile, stress and fear causing it to rise up at a sight that usually wouldn’t phase him. Closing his eyes, fists clench on his knees, Nagito willing his shoulders to keep from trembling beneath Gundham’s heavy coat. It’s difficult after everything that happened, relief and remorse ravaging inside of him in confusing amounts, as well as the chill still stubbornly clinging to his bones… but he sucks in a breath through his teeth, and wills himself to stand.

He should probably leave. Gundham likely won’t want him around any longer than necessa— Blinking quizzically when he’s spoken to— not expecting to be offered so much as a glance, let alone words, now that his small part to play was done —tired gaze drifts to the Breeder, taking in the slump of his shoulders; posture and prose, normally so proud, drenched in an exhaustion Nagito shares. Most might consider it humbling for the breeder, a glimpse into his vulnerability. Yet Nagito watches with solemn, but awestruck reverence. Grateful beyond words to be permitted to witness the sight, to share in a connecting moment of humanity with someone like Gundham.

A hand hesitantly reaches out despite the space between them, aching to comfort the other, before silently retracting. Fingers curling inward before he holds the front of his— of Gundham’s coat instead. Best not to touch the other man. Nagito has already burdened him enough… Gaze focused on the table where the injured dog lay, he doesn’t notice the glances aimed his way. Guard lowered in turn, Nagito gaze is uncertain, breath shaky as he hesitates before finally making his way over at the invitation. First step falters, but once he starts walking, strides become smoother. Wary, quiet steps are slow as he approaches, but unwavering as his focus.

❝  Of course… I’d hate to cause you any more trouble.  ❞  Nagito murmurs in reply to Gundham’s warning, words falling instinctively from tired lips. Looking down at the injured canine, Nagito sucks in a soft breath, the dog’s sickly figure and matted fur easier to see now that it’s no longer caked in filth. Still, her breathing is steady, rather than the haggard panting of before, and she seems to be succumbing to rest. Eyes drift across the bandaged injuries, expression unreadable as his mind flashes between the present and the past— grip on the front of his coat growing tighter… Shoulders trembling, breath hitches as his vision blurs, a weak smile on his face as he barely breathes,  ❝  … You saved her.  ❞  

❝  You saved her.  ❞  

It sounds like an answered prayer, laughter weakly hinting the soft words as Nagito’s shoulders shake. Legs feeling weak, he sits on the ground beside the table, back resting against its leg. Eyes shut, tears quietly slide down his cheeks, leaving damp streaks of joy that overflow from his chest,  ❝  I never doubted the skills of the Ultimate Breeder.  ❞  Words are heavy with exhaustion, but they tremble with relief stemmed from unimaginable fear. A terror of being unable to stop a tragedy, helpless to do nothing but witness one that did not need to be. Guilt weighs upon his chest, for the one he couldn’t save… but gratitude washes through his very being, brightening the grey that had dimmed his gaze.

Watery eyes open to look at the floor, tears caught in pale lashes.  ❝  Whatever price fate may want me to pay for the good fortune of knowing you tonight— I’ll gladly accept.  ❞  He sighs through a final chuckle, before growing quiet. Allowing himself a moment to just breathe. Fate will continue to weave whatever it wants eventually. As it always does. But for now… he’ll allow himself to worry about nothing else other than his next few breaths.   「 ☆ 」

[not-bcring]

“ that’s a very dark and disturbing thought… i’m impressed. ” (Gundham to Nagito)

-   ✩   「   @honeydewmuses ​  」   ✩

「 ☆ 」   ❝  Hmm? Is it?  ❞  Nagito hums softly, curiosity lifting his tone and his gaze as he looks at Gundham. Carefully petting the hamster curled up on his hand, the serene picture contrasts starkly with the dreary web he’d been weaving with his words. Laced with a sullen sincerity, tinges of insistence bordering on insane as Nagito took his words as FACT; whether or not anyone else agreed with him. Normally, one of his… tangents would be met with discomfort, derision, maybe even danger if he got the other person riled up enough.

Very rarely— hardly ever —are his deepest thoughts met with not only acceptance, but approval.

Mouth upturns with gentle amusement, a finger rubbing the top of a hamster’s head,  ❝  I wasn’t intending for it to be… I was just speaking my mind, that’s all.  ❞  Lightly laughing, the sound just as sincere as his previous ‘dark and disturbing’ thought, demeanor brightens alongside it,  ❝  But I’m glad even my worthless ponderings were able to serve some useful purpose. Impressing an Ultimate— No, heh- impressing you is truly an honor.  ❞  

That’s what this feeling must be. This sense of accomplishment that comes from earning Gundham’s praise, even for the most trivial of things. He’s honored to be around him. To be around a superior and still in his favor… That’s why his chest feels lighter than it had before. With that deduction, Nagito outstretches his hand in a silent request for more seeds for the hamster, not even bothering to voice his desire. Partially because he figures Gundham should understand— he’s out of seeds and has a hamster in his hand still.

But part of the gesture stems from the subconscious arrogance of not wanting to voice his desire. A feeling that it would be a waste of both time and breath; Nagito’s inner yearning to have his wants catered to sometimes sneaking to the surface when he’s around Gundham. A ridiculous notion when it comes to the other Ultimates. Nagito knows his place among them… He should know his place here, as well. And yet— Hand remains outstretched, the action not disrupting Nagito’s calm conversation.

❝  As someone in-tuned with the dark arts and intimately-familiar with what qualifies as disturbing, surely you’ve had thoughts that are far more impressive than any of mine.  ❞     「 ☆ 」

[not-bcring]

(( Tag Dump - Nagito Komaeda ))