#komahinanami fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harmoni-me · 3 years

Note

a poly komahinanami + reader request comin' through!: teaching crush reader emotions and how they work, how to interact with people, also stuff like romance, friendships, and having a real family.

thank you! don’t forget to stay hydrated!💙

My oh my, guess who’s back!? And with the longest story I’ve ever written just for you at that! This totaled up to be 17 pages on a Google Docs document, which is absolutely crazy by the way, but I just couldn’t stop writing this! But it’s now done, so I hope you enjoy!

Nagito Komaeda x Hajime Hinata x Chiaki Nanami x Reader Who Wants to Rediscover Emotions!

“Ugh...so not even that, huh…” Chiaki crashed onto a nearby sofa, slamming her face into a plush pillow, catching herself with a comfortable squish. You had just been shown one of those guilt-trip puppy adoption videos to try and kick-start your tear ducts, but it just honestly didn’t work. Though you desperately wanted the tears to flow, or at least have your eyes a little misty, nothing ever came. You couldn’t help it, but you were willing to do anything in order to feel, and know about everything that has to do with fruitful human emotion.

Just a mere few weeks before this moment, you were left with no one, going to a school for the talented and the elite. You did some research about social gestures, wanting to know what to do if someone wanted to talk to you.

Well, apparently you did something okay, because now you were sitting here with three people who are bumbling around, trying to figure out your emotional and social problems. It was most likely luck that you met these three that wanted to help you out of your own ditch, but you definitely weren't complaining. Not one bit.

You had people by your side, and you felt something warm bloom in your stomach when you realized as such. It was nice, like when you let the sun soak up into the pores of your skin on some sandy shores.

“Well, It’s not really their fault, you know? They were raised to be the Ultimate Perfectionist, their family must have done some terrible things in order for them to get this way...those bastards…” Hajime sat up against a wall, weaving his fingers into his hazelnut hair.

“Even though you’re simply reserve-course leftovers...you’re not wrong, Hajime. (Y/n) is in quite a predicament, wouldn’t you say?” Nagito laid cross-legged next to Hajime. Hajime just simply rolled his eyes at the white-haired boy's remark about his useless school status.

“Just a theory, but does talent honestly determine status? Wouldn’t it be like comparing someone’s grade’s to their natural IQ? Someone could simply just work harder, Nagito, and it’s that simple, most likely, to get on an Ultimate’s level.” You looked at Nagito, causing him to stiffen just a bit.

…uh

Was it something you said?

“Ah, (Y/n), your glaring. Practice softening your eyes a little bit. Giving off a serious look can make people uncomfortable sometimes.” Chiaki pointed out, gesturing to her own eyes, switching between a glare, and back to normal again, as if giving you a quick tutorial.

“Ah, um, sorry about that. I had no such intentions, so please forgive me, Nagito.” You bowed your head in forgiveness, already knowing what that gesture ment from social experience. Nagito just shook his head, causing his hair to sway along rhythmically, chuckling a little while doing so.

“No worries, please scold me whenever you please. I enjoy it.” Nagito let out a beaming laugh, shoulders bouncing at his own comment.

Hajime just clipped his thumb and index finger onto the upper-bridge of his nose, shaking his head to Nagito’s comment. Though, he could never stay mad at him for long… even with all of the degradation talk.

“Ok then, we need to get back to the situation at hand, because I have an idea!” Chiaki spoke out, making everyone in the room turn their head, ready to hear her out. The girl then picked herself up from the couch to stand tall among all of the sitting frames in the room.

“This situation is exactly like finally getting that shiny Pokemon you’ve always wanted, but it’s only level one. So you’ve got to go back and make it fight the smaller guys in order for it to start beating up the bosses.” Chiaki explained. Hajime nodded, apparently understanding exactly what she was talking about. Nagito was just sitting there, a clueless smile painted onto his face, listening with full intention of agreeing anyway.

You...you think you got the gist...but what the hell is a Pokemon?

“(Y/n) is our precious shiny Pokemon, and we need to take them out to experience all of the experiences, in order to gain all of the experience!” Chiaki finally proclaimed, confidently puffing out her chest in pride. Nagito just chuckled, while clapping at Chiaki’s idea, praising her. Hajime tilted his head a bit, seeming to want to know the stickler details.

“So, what’s the best way to go about this?” Hajime stood up from his seated position on the floor, stretching out his arms, sounding out a couple of pops from his tense muscles. Chiaki went silent for a moment, but then quickly jumped up with an idea.

“We divide it into levels, and create our own scenarios to fit within what we want to focus on in each level. For example, level one can be about trying to trigger certain emotions, like happiness. (Y/n) will pass the level when she completes the task provided. This will keep her motivated, and we’ll all have fun! I think.” Chiaki proposed, walking over to your listening form. You were confused, but you were also willing to try anything for you to feel like everyone else.

“So, (Y/n), are you ok with this?” The pale pink haired girl crouched down to your level, head turning, waiting for your approval.

“I’ll do anything to feel again. Of course I’ll do it.” You blatantly said, raising your tone to puppet a sort of happy emotion, though this time, it didn’t really feel as forced as it usually was, which made your heart jump in surprise. Your heart hopping domino-affected to your eyes widening in shock, as well as a jerk of fear in your body. You didn’t really know what you felt, but you wanted to figure it out more than anything in the world at the moment.

“Perfect! So, ah, what do the arcade machines say again...oh! Level 1, Start! Or maybe I’m wrong…” Nagito, stood, looking in your direction, as if signaling to you that everything was going to go great.

LEVEL 1: EMOTION TRIGGERS

You were sitting in a chair, while being surrounded by the three friends of yours. It was kind of how it went just a few minutes ago, with each person trying to show you something that might trigger something in you, but this seemed like it was going to be just a bit more...difficult.

“Well, what we’ve got planned is in order for you to go onto the next level, you need to achieve the following three emotional responses: Happiness, Repugnance, and Sadness. We’ll help you out on trying to trigger them, so don’t worry about it too much, alright?” Chiaki lightly said. You always enjoyed her voice, as well as her understanding personality. It was probably those character traits of hers that caused her to be your friend, most likely.

“Ah, well repugnance should be easy since I’m here, after all! Poor (Y/n) here would probably hurl after staring at scum like me for too long!” Nagito said with a smile dancing on his face, stepping into your vision, standing there for you to scan your eyes upon him. Hajime and Chiaki didn’t really object, but just wanted to see what would happen out of their own curiosity.

You observed him from your seat, as he said to do. The longer you looked at him, the more he just looked even more pretty than you thought he looked in the first place. His body was abnormally slim, making you wonder if he gets a proper amount of nutrition. You also noticed upon observing his features that his face fits perfectly within the four-division rule, which basically proves his face to be perfectly symmetrical. You also got a warm, sort of bubbly feeling when you looked into his eyes. It almost seemed as if they glowed a light, neon green. It was so enchanting...so-

“Pretty.” You said deadenly aloud, making everyone in the room so completely wide-eyed at your words, er, word. It was a surprise to them, to say the least.

“Uh...huh?” Nagito sounded, the tips of his ears darkening in a slight blush, not really knowing what to say.

“Oh, apologies. I was just thinking about your pretty eyes. Oh, yes, sorry. I think your eyes are very nice. Also, did you know that your face fits perfectly into the four-division rule, which is very hard to find naturally. I think modeling agencies would really like your face, though you look underweight...do you eat on a regular basis? If not, I can recommend some meals that are high in protein and low in fat in order for you to gain a healthy amount of weight and-” You rambled about your findings about the man in front of you, causing the darkening hue to spread from Nagito’s ears to his cheeks. A snort of laughter could be heard from Hajime, while Chiaki snickered into her arm, trying to conceal the noise.

“Ah...ahahah..uh, HAJIME, YOU MENTIONED AN IDEA JUST A BIT AGO! WOULD YOU MIND PUTTING IT INTO ACTION FOR US PLEASE!?” Nagito blurted out unexpectedly, making his way over to the “sideline” where the two others resided.

“I don’t remember making any idea, Nag-” Hajime said, just wanting to tease the lucky boy around some more.

“SH-SHUT UP! JUST DO SOMETHING!” Nagito slapped Hajime’s shoulder in embarrassment, causing Hajime to laugh at his successful teasing attempt.

“Okay, okay, I did have one idea I wanted to try. Though, I might need (Y/n) to take off their school sweater. Just for a moment. You can put it back on if you’re uncomfortable without it.” Hajime walked over to your seat, and steadily waited for the removal of your sweater vest.

“Oh, I honestly don’t mind. I trust you, Hajime.” You simply stated, carefully slipping the school sweater vest off of your form, and lazily plopping it down on the ground adjacent to you. Hajime then stepped a bit closer, fiddling with the ends of his shirt a little, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Sorry, but...d-do you mind closing your eyes?” Hajime quickly stuttered out. You nodded, fluttering your eyes shut in obedience.

You felt Hajime’s presence close in on you. Closer and closer his presence got, making you go just a tad ridged, until you felt something.

It was as if feathers started to dance on the dips of your hips, causing you to squirm from the feeling. You weren't sure what was happening at first, but the more the feeling continued, the more you felt as if a gigglish sound was about to burst from your lips.

“Uh, I’m close, but I need more hands. Can someone- Ah, thanks Chiaki…”

It was when the other pair of hands started to skip across your skin that your lungs exploded. A loud, joyous laughter rang through the room, raspy and unused. The hands just kept on going, making your laughing increase even more, to the point where tears pricked at the edges of your eyes, making you open them out of pure instinct.

It was a weird sight, but you weren't surprised; it was what made you laugh out in delight. Hajime and Chiaki were tickling your sides, making your laughter return to your emotional memory. You haven’t heard the sound of your own cries of happiness in such an incredibly long time, that you knew you didn’t recognize it from the decade or so that it had been buried and locked away deep inside you.

But here you were, laughing with the people you charised the most in that moment.

….

The room was at a standstill. Everyone was extremely overjoyed at your new emotional upbringing of happiness. It was amazing, and almost a miracle on how much you laughed and smiled, making you seem like a totally different person. It was to be celebrated about later, but things weren't nearly finished yet. Two more emotions still needed to be freed from within you, and finding the key to giving your feelings wings was difficult at that.

“I know exactly what will make her cringe!” Chiaki shot up from her thinking position, running to her console that was stuffed into her school bag. She pulled out the glossy pink electronic, powering it on, while simultaneously walking towards you.

“I will force you to watch a sim of Teruteru take a shower and make him woohoo with a ghost, making him have a ghost baby.” Chiaki stuck the screen up to your staring eyes. It was on what seemed like a digital Teruteru in a house, who was walking into the restroom of his abode. Once you saw that the character took off his clothes to bathe, you knew the threat wasn’t a farce like you thought it would be.

You honestly didn’t feel like witnessing something so...unnecessarily eerie and gross at the same time.

“Ew...”

That was all you said, scrunching your nose, and turning your head away from the screen as fast as possible to avoid from seeing such a monstrosity take place.

“Wow, that was...surprisingly simple! Such talent from an ultimate such as yourself, Chiaki!” Nagito praised the girl who willingly soaked it up like a proud child after getting a lollipop of accomplishment from the doctors office. You giggled unconsciously, astonishing yourself from the gesture, but you smiled, knowing that things might just return to how they once were in the past sooner rather than later.

“But, uh, can you actually have a ghost baby in that game?” Nagito questioned, and rightfully so, because you were coincidentally wondering the same exact thing. Chiaki darefuly glared into Nagito’s pale irises, signaling that she was dead serious, honest to God. Wow...must be quite the odd game she must be playing…

….

“Can’t we just...skip the sad one? We already got the other two down.” Hajime asked, not wanting to see you in a gloomy state, especially since the sight of seeing you so vulnerable might break his heart into two.

“No way, Hajime! Everyone needs to bawl their eyes out at least one time in their life, right? Despair’s tears are needed in order to live a balanced emotional life!” Nagito exclaimed, a slightly crazed look twirling within his eyes, reflecting his love for the subject at hand.

Nagito skipped over to your form, leaning close to your stature. An innocent smile was stitched onto his face, though it was quite obvious that he had completely ulterior motives. He was going to make you complete this level, no matter what he had to do.

“Just imagine, dear (Y/n), that you were blackmailed into killing me. What would you do?” His voice vibrated deep within your consciousness. It was a strange question, but it didn’t fail to make you feel incredibly uneasy. You looked down into your lap, thinking about your answer, for your response could affect the possible outcome.

“Report the threat to the police.” You simply said, because it was the truth. Putting a situation into more capable hands was the most logical thing to do. Wasn’t it?

“Oh, but it’s blackmail, is it not? You might get killed if you do such a naive thing...let me change the question for you, just to make things easier…” Nagito’s hand drifted to lightly grasp your chin, raising it up to make stern eye contact. His nimble fingers held onto the bottom of your chin, gently squeezing your cheeks inward, puckering your lips.

“How would you kill me?” The darkness in his voice didn’t even try to be hidden, for it scared your heart into beating out of it’s chest even faster than it was before. What kind of question is that? Why would he ask something like this, and to you, especially?

“I don’t want to answer.” was the only thing you could push past your lips, which has started twitching at the thought of the question given. Nagito’s smile downcasted, the disappointment evident on his face. His grip on your face grew tighter, tighter as his nails dug a little into your delicate skin. His hold on your cheeks was like his way of wanting you to spit out every single detail of your answer, wanting to know so desperately how you would murder him.

You never wanted to answer that question, for you would never think about it in the first place. Nagito was someone you treasured, along with Hajime and Chiaki. The thought of seeing their own blood spill made you want to hurl everything on the floor, with the burning residue of stomach acid sizzling away at your throat.

“Tell me.” Was all he said, with shivering silence following straight after.

“No.” Your voice cracked. This was viewed as a terrible situation to be in. Never in such a long time have you felt this emotionally trapped. You were clueless on what you were feeling, but you knew that you never wanted to feel it again. You wanted to drown it, hoping it dies beneath much better emotions that you’ve resurfaced. But it never went away, only increasing, taking over all of your senses.

“Nagito, I think that’s enou-”

“Shut it.” Nagito sharply turned his head to face Chiaki, who had objectified.

Who was this? Was this the Nagito you’ve always gotten to know?

“You look like the poisoning type, in all honesty. Maybe you would slip it into my drink, or maybe just force it down my throat, none of which are bad choices. Maybe you would stay to watch scum like me convulsing on the floor, vomiting blood and mucus. What a pathetic way to go, wouldn’t it? You would have to live with the burden of my soul hovering over you for the rest of your life, wishing for yourself to be dead as well...What do you think? I bet you can do better than tha-”

“N-NO! P-please stop!” You screamed out, wanting the vivid picture in your mind to burn within a hellscape, never to be seen again. Your form was hiccuping and shrugging in sobs, wanting the images to go away. Nagito was your friend, and the vision of him laying in his own liquids and-

WHAM

“What the hell are you doing, Nagito?” Hajime fist has made contact with Nagito’s face, causing the boy to stumble back from the impact, his hand detaching from your face, leaving little red marks from the indentation of Nagito’s nails grounding themselves into your cheeks.

You started to shiver and shake, your heart so full of disturbance and sadness that you honestly just felt like dying. You wanted to go back to anything, anything that could be better than this feeling, but no matter how hard you tried, everything just kept on elevating. It was like a never ending hustle of feelings reaching over the brim, spilling over while also breaking the vessel.

Chiaki rushed over to your side, hugging you with all of her gentleness and consideration, patting down your hair in the most comforting way she could. Hajime went over and did a similar gesture, holding your hand, while bringing it into himself to embrace it. You don’t really know why he did, but Hajime lightly kissed the knuckles on the top of your hand, then once again bringing it into himself.

Nagito just stood there, dazed at the sight he was beholding. He really wasn’t sure what he did wrong, because he did what he was supposed to do, right? Yet, the heavy guilt building up within his stomach begged to differ.

He shuffled up lightly to your slightly shaking frame. He then dropped to his knees, a thump sounding from the action. Carefully, he laid his head in your lap, while tenderly placing his arms around your lower body.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry you had to see that…” Nagito pleaded, his mumbling apologies verberated lightly from his mouth. You didn’t know what came over you, but you unsteadily placed your hands in his hair, patting it like you would with a delicate puppy. After a few seconds, you could feel a sudden dampness on your legs, and you could only guess it was Nagito’s down regretful tears.

“It’s...okay...you were trying to help. I understand, so everything is okay.” Was all you said.

The four of you all gathered in that position for a while, with some people switching around to give you the ultimate care and affection. The rest of the time together was used as a break from your emotional journey, with all of you guys gathering up on the couch to watch as many Star Wars movies you could possibly watch within a certain time frame.

….

LEVEL 2: HUMAN INTERACTION

The four of you were in a restaurant that was one of the most popular places in town. The menu was expansive and expensive, and the desserts were rumored to be on par with one of the best confectionery institutes in the country.

Chiaki had helped you to get dressed for the occasion beforehand, wanting you to learn the basics of dress code and why it’s placed into different areas. You learned that in places that excel in wealth, status, as well as being full of influential people, were usually required of a dress code. Fancy, one could call it, was usually the status quote. Though, if it wasn’t those things, then you could basically wear whatever you wanted to unless stated otherwise. Interesting….

“I’ll be paying the bill today, in case anyone is wondering.” Nagito said, shifting his suit a bit to fix the minor details. His hair was up in what seemed to be a half ponytail, with the rest of his wild hair flowing downwards as per usual.

“Well, yeah, you kinda are the only one that can pay for this kinda thing…” Hajime rang out, checking his watch from underneath his white dress shirt sleeves. You really liked how the shirt fit Hajime, for it accentuated his slightly muscular chest a little more, as well as his smaller waist being hugged by his black dress pants and belt.

Chiaki sat next to you, a pink dress hugging her curves perfectly. Not too tight to a point where it made her uncomfortable, but it still made her figure known, which was a cute, hourglass figure. It was too bad that she hid herself underneath her hoodie most of the time, she honestly deserves to flaunt it more often from your perspective, but you still respected her personal conservatism when it came to her own body.

“So...what do I do now? I know this has to do with my social development. I think. Right?” You questioned, wanting to know what you needed to do in order to improve, and hopefully lead you to be more bearable during social activities.

“We were thinking just simple things for now, like ordering for us, calling over for the check, asking for refills, and that stuff. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to do so, and we’ll correct you on anything when needed.” Chiaki quickly explained, with you nodding along, signaling that you were indeed listening to her.

“If (Y/n) is going to take our orders and give them to the waiter...then I guess i’ll have to tell you what I would like. A six ounce filet mignon with a caesar salad, please and thank you, dearest.” Nagito carefully listed off his order. You didn't really expect him to be a fan of steak, but you record the information with ease.

“Lobster and a side of soup for me.” Hajime smiled.

“I’ll have the french onion soup then. No side, I’m saving room for dessert!” Chiaki eagerly bounced in her seat, seeming to be quite excited for the treats this establishment would offer.

“Got it, then I’ll order just that, along with my food as well.” You confirmed the list in your head, just to double check, and once the waiter came around for the order, you did what you needed to do with ease. You were getting better, and that made everyone at the table extremely proud of your progression into becoming a better you.

“I want (Y/n) to practice in drama talk, I think that would be funny.” Chiaki commented, giggling at the suggestion. You figured “Drama talk” was just the spreading or finding of interesting rumors. You didn’t know that Chiaki was into that kind of thing, but it was quite humorous all in the same.

“Hm, interesting. Well, what kind of things have you seen around the school that could fuel into this conversation, (Y/n)?” Hajime asked, resting his head on his propped-up hands.

Interesting….you couldn’t really think of anything right off the bat. You looked back into your memories to see if there was anything that could be of interest...until you found it.

“I think I saw Kazuichi and Sonia walk into a cafe two days ago.” You attempted to spark something interesting, and apparently it worked, because Chiaki went absolutely feral at your comment.

“No. Way. I don’t believe it, are you sure it was actually them!?” Chiaki hollered, eyes sparkling out of a childlike curiosity.

“I’m almost positive, there’s only a few people I know that have pink hair, and another with blonde locks that reach to their ankles.” You confirmed, making even Hajime and Nagito’s attention draw into the topic. It seems as if they weren’t really expecting it either. It was funny how both of their eyes blew up all of a sudden, as if you said something completely ridiculous.

“Is it...really that unbelievable?” you asked, genuinely wanting an answer. You kind of were seeing it all along, though it was merely one sided at first, like, really one sided. Eventually you expected them to hook up somewhere in between.

“I don’t really know him very well since we don’t really share the same class but I’ve heard from Chiaki that he can be a bit…” Hajime tried to search for the words, as if he wanted to pick something out of the dictionary that is not as offensive as he wanted it to be.

“Hyperactive with a dash of a perverted young teen.” Nagito finished bluntly. He wasn’t wrong, but you believe that he could be a grown man...sometimes.

Alright, maybe not as much as what was ideal, but still.

“Oh my god I still can’t believe this is happening…” Chiaki was sitting there, looking like she was a woman in her thirties experiencing her first midlife crisis. You figured you succeeded in the drama department...or maybe you had said too much.

….

The night ended off extremely profitable to your social skills, and to your stomach. You learned correct table mannerisms, as well as waiter manners and gestures from the three of your friends. Not to mention that you have never tasted anything more delightful than the multitude of desserts that Nagito had ordered for the table. Although he wanted to get the whole dessert menu, he knew that the proportions could probably not fit all on the table, so he just got what he believed to be the best five deserts. And let’s just say that you and Chiaki were having a ball with all of them, while Hajime and Nagito were sharing a lava cake with vanilla ice cream, in their own little conversation.

You and Chiaki felt like you couldn’t walk, and truth be told, you two actually couldn’t. It was so funny that Nagito probably busted a lung, and Hajime chuckled profusely while helping the two of you hobble out of the restaurant with your full bellies.

All of you had an eventful sleepover after that, with all of you falling asleep on each other while watching the Home Alone series. All of you passed out after the first movie, because it was boring compared to the first one. Nothing could ever beat the first one.

Once everyone woke up the next morning, apparently Nagito had prepared another lesson for you, wanted everyone to join and participate, for this one was “Special” compared to the other ones.

You don’t really know how it happened, but now you were stuck on the couch of Nagito’s house, being lectured about a topic you honestly didn’t know that much. Well, other than the movie’s that you’ve watched about it.

LEVEL 3: ROMANCE

“I think we can all agree that (Y/n) here will definitely get asked out dozens of times throughout their lives, wouldn’t you say?” Nagito stated, as if it was an obvious fact that everyone in the world should know.

“I mean, yeah. I really wouldn’t be surprised if she got asked out a few times.” Hajime replied, trying his best to be as nonchalant as possible, though the light blush on his face was quite evident in that moment alone. You never got to see his face as flushed as it was very often. And it was amazingly amusing.

“Therefore, I propose we teach her the swooning basics! Romantic gestures, if you were to frame it that way.” Nagito spread his arms out, as if he were a ruling king among a giant kingdom.

You were a bit dumbfounded by the idea, purely because of the fact that Nagito, of all people, came up with this idea. You will admit that you were completely inept when it came to anything close to romance or love, but that doesn’t really mean that you weren’t open to trying to be in a relationship. Though, you don’t really know what to do if that circumstance ever were to pass.

“Wait, are you sure that they’ll even be comfortable with this? This is some intimate stuff we’re talking about.” Chiaki chimed in, proving a point. You have heard about some actions that only lovers do, and you honestly didn’t really want to practice them, based on the descriptions that those actions beheld.

“As long as it’s nothing overboard, I don’t see the harm.” You confirmed, wanting to let everyone know that you’re ready for probably one of your toughest challenges yet. Or not. Who knows?

“Wonderful! Now, where to start...suggestions, anyone?” Nagito looked into the mere three person crowd he had going on, pointing at a Hajime who had raised his hand. When did this suddenly become a classroom scenario?

“Well, we should probably think about what couples do, right? Like, I dunno, holding hands and hugging. Things like that, right?” Hajime indicated, listing off the activities with his fingers.

“Perfect! Well, you know what to do then…” Nagito went over to Hajime, nudging him a little bit towards you. He rolled his eyes in response, seeming to be tired of Nagito’s antics of teasing and prodding.

“I...guess I’ll try…” Hajime murmured, picking himself up from the couch, then plopping himself closer to you. You turned to look into his eyes, which had quickly darted away from your own, a spreading red blooming onto his cheeks.

“Well, I guess I’ll teach you how to, uh, hold hands first.” Hajime stated, nervousness evident in his voice. You could hear Chiaki giggle in amusement from her spot on the couch, along with a chortling Nagito, who was snickering through his toothy smile.

“Usually,” Hajime began, “Couples hold each other's hands like this.” He softly took your hand into his own, intertwining his fingers to fit the spaces inbetween yours like a perfect fit to a puzzle piece. It was cheesy to just think about it, but it honestly felt like it belonged there, and it made your chest begin to feel warm, resembling hot coals within a fireplace.

“People can do this basically whenever, like when they're walking together, laying down with each other, and some people even do it when they, uh, sleep with one another. But either way, it feels nice, doesn’t it?” Hajime inquired, lifting up your tangled-up fingers, smiling kindly. The whole thing was so incredibly comforting and sweet, making you face unconsciously heat up. You’ve only blushed a few times in your life, and half of those times you had no clue you were even blushing, but now, you were pretty damn sure your face was as red as a freshly picked strawberry.

“‘Oh, yeah. You can also do this, I think this is kinda a common thing too.” Hajime then undid the bond of the two hands, gently putting his own hand underneath yours. With his thumb, he dragged it back and forth across the top of your hand, making your heart leap from the gesture.

“Woah, Hajime, you really know your stuff, don’t you?” Chiaki pestered, giggling herself into even higher spirits. Hajime huffed out in an embarrassed annoyance. Can he just...have this moment for a god forsaken minute?

“Can...can I try?” You suddenly spoke, causing Hajime the look up in attentive stature. He let go of your hand, but still left it pretty close to your dominant one.

“Of course, you’re the student here, after all. So, go ahead.” Hajime then offered his hand, leaving it suspended in the air, waiting for you to reciprocate.

You nervously approved his hand with yours, your heart beating so hard up against the inside of your chest, that you were partially convinced that it was begging for an escape. You then shakily intertwined your fingers, causing Hajime to reciprocate your hold. Your hand was probably clammy from all of your apprehension, but Hajime looked pleased with what you had achieved.

“Look at that, all by yourself, huh? Look at you go.” Hajime chuckled, playfully gripping tighter onto your hand, then started to shake it around lightly, making you laugh a little from the gesture.

It was strange, but you really wanted to know what it was like to hold Nagito and Chiaki’s hands as well...maybe it was just your brain’s curiosity kicking in, or maybe it was the yearning that your heart was reaching out for. You didn’t know, so you let the feeling flourish, letting it be.

….

“And how in the world is Nagito good at anything romantic again?” Hajime exclaimed, making Nagito mock offence from the comment, then wickedly laughed it off. Chiaki shrugged her shoulders, rolling her eyes a bit, wanting her point to be shown through.

“You can’t deny that he’s pretty creative when it comes to names.” Chiaki explained, “He’s probably the most qualified person here if we’re going to teach them about pet names.” She turned her head to the lucky boy in question, who was playing with one of his bottom curls with his index finger, twirling it around, then releasing it in a transfixing way.

“Hm? Oh, well if I could be of some use...then of course I’ll do it for our little sunflower!” Nagito seemed to brighten the room a few levels of hues with merely his speech alone.

“Ok, well I see what you mean now…” Hajime mumbled into Chiaki’s ear, causing her to puff up in pride.

Nagito seated himself next to you, making himself comfortable. He gestured for you to do the same, wanting for you to be relaxed while he did his wordy magic.

“I’m honestly not the best for something like this, with me being a piece of lonely trash and all, but I’ll try to introduce you to some ‘Pet Names’ your future lover might bestow upon you. Better yet, you could use these to give to your lover yourself, which is also a fine option.” Nagito seemed to fully lean his weight onto the couch, closing his eyelids, and sighing out in a relaxed bliss.

“Hmmm...a common one is baby, babydoll, or even the bland bae are all some simple ones. They’re calling you cute, like a giddy child, but personally those are quite the lazy names, in my opinion…” Nagito chuckled.

So...getting basically called a kid by your lover means that they think you're cute? That confused you...because you didn’t really like the idea of you being compared to a child on the cuteness spectrum. It seemed wrong...but you got why others would enjoy it.

“These one’s I enjoy more, they’re all based on sweet foods, indicating you’re, well, sweet. Or maybe just scrumptious in your own way...Anyway, people can say honey, cupcake, buttercup, and probably a lot more.” His hands started to sway around him, aiding him in his explanation.

You could call someone a sweet-tasting food and they’ll be flustered from the complement? That sounds simple enough.

“Ah, we still have so much more, I could go on forever…” Nagito exhaled, smiling, seeming to be experiencing a lot of inner peace in that moment.

“No, please continue. This is interesting to me, and I’m also learning a lot!” You proclaimed, curious for more. Nagito just snickered, moving on with his long list of names.

“People sometimes like to nickname after animals. The ones that are known to be small or cute, like bunny, bambi, kitten, and my personal favorite, dove. So pretty, is it not? Naming your lover after the bird that represents inner peace, and the bringer of love…”

You nodded and hummed in agreement, even though he couldn’t see you with his eyes closed. The fact that humans named other humans based off of animals for the sake of endearment made sense, but you hoped it didn’t get too extreme, or was used in offensive language...

“What one’s do you like the most?” You asked, to Nagito’s surprise. He had to stop and think for a moment, as if he was about to prepare himself what he was about to say.

“I’m...picky. I like names that are meaningful, yet roll off the tongue just right. Though, I also want my partner to be comfortable with the name as well. It’s hard to pinpoint a single one but...maybe it would have to be between love, or precious. They’re simple...but for some reason it makes my heart feel warm.” Nagito put his hand to his chest, humming in satisfaction from his own touch.

“Hmmm….I think if I wanted to give you a pet name Nagito, I think it would be…” You sat in thought, furrowing your brows to think of something endearing your can say to the hopeless romantic.

“Ah, now there’s no need for tha-”

“Flower.”

“Huh?” Nagito opened his eyes to look at you, staring into your thoughtful orbs.

“Like a dandelion, because when you blow on it to make a wish, then it comes true. So I think it matches well.” You tried to break down your reasoning, but it just left Nagito more confused, and not to mention more flustered.

“I...don’t really seem to understand really.” Nagito shifted around on the couch as a sort of a nervous tick. It was obvious to even you that the way his eyes flickered around like someone in a frantic state indicated much apprehension.

“It’s because you're the flower that made my wishes come true.” You stated, smiling at the boy who started to radiate steam from his ears, seemingly not able to take anymore of the emotional turmoil.

In the end, Hinata had to lay him down on the couch for a while, while Chiaki pulled out a bag of frozen peas to place on Nagito’s burning cheeks, who was mumbling something along the lines of “I’m so lucky…” like a crazy mantra.

You just watched it all go down, while also using the term “Flower” in sentences out loud, honestly not helping with Nagito’s heart, which was out of control.

….

“So...I have to teach you how to cuddle, right? Well that’s easy. Boys, get off this couch. It’s cuddle time. ” Chiaki blatantly said, though she did keep that pretty smile on her face at all times. Your knowledge on cuddling was limited, but you did it a couple times as a whole group, so that counts...probably.

“Lay down so we can get started, okay?” Chiaki gently said, laying herself down on the couch, opening her arms to you, inviting you into her seemingly warm embrace. You eminently fell into her arms, your head nuzzling unintentionally into her chest. She giggled at your actions, obviously enjoying herself.

Hajime and Nagito, not really knowing what to do, just sat down together in a large cushioned recliner, the both of them leaning back into the chair, bodies pressed up against each other. Nagito had grabbed a book beforehand, so he took this time to simply enjoy his novel. Hajime, being curious and bored, kept on bugging Nagito with questions about the book, which Nagito honestly didn’t mind him doing.

“Ok, let’s start with the common stuff, little spoon or big spoon?” Chiaki said, holding up the number two on her fingers to indicate the options that she had just listed. You had no idea what she had just ment. Spoons? Like, soup spoons? Or ice cream spoons? Your mind was rushing with questions, and Chiaki snickered lightly from your inquisitive irises, knowing how perplexed she had made you.

“Sorry, you’re probably confused, so I’ll just show you.” She shifted herself so that she was facing away from you, so that all you could see was her back. She then wiggled closer to you from that angle, so that her spine was pushed up lightly against your chest. You just laid there, rigid in not knowing what to do with your arms, which were tense from Chiaki’s actions.

“Wrap your arms around me. Don’t be shy, I’ll tell you if you’re doing something wrong.” She said, waiting for your embrace to bestow itself around her.

Humming in agreement, you used your arms to comfortably wrap itself around Chiaki’s dipped waist, instinctively pulling her closer to you. The pink-haired girl had mumbled from the movement, but then stuck up a little thumbs up to you, indicating that you did everything perfectly.

The two of you stayed in that position for a while, getting comfy from each other's radiating warmth. It was something so peaceful, that it filled your heart with an unknown bliss. You wanted to stay like this forever, but you knowing that it had to end eventually made you feel just a bit of disappointment.

“M’kay..les’ do another one.” She finally spoke, sleepiness obvious within her voice, making you smile a bit. She turned over to you, then started to shove your shoulder lightly with her palm.

“Go on your back…I’m gonna lay on you.” She murmured, pushing you down on your back, and shifting her form onto your chest. Her head was snuggled into your neck, while her arm lazily laid on your abdomen. What surprised you about the position is the fact that Chiaki’s leg had tossed itself over to drape over your lower body. It was as if she was just a baby, clingy koala who wanted their nap time to begin already...actually, this was exactly that, Chiaki was definitely a cute, sleepy koala who just wanted to snooze.

“This is the sweetheart’s cradle...you make a good pillow…” Chiaki mumbled into your neck, making the area feel hot from how flustered you were. Yet, it was so incredibly soothing, that you just wanted to just...rest here until the day you died. You weren't even exaggerating either, because if you were to die like this, you definitely would be the happiest person on earth, and definitely the most snug corpse out there by a longshot.

“Can...can the other’s join too?” You managed to mutter, causing Chiaki to slightly stick her head up.

“Mhm...you’re lucky this couch is big…” she answered, then turned her head to the two boys, who were bickering about the protagonist from Nagito’s book.

“(Y/n) wants you guys to join, come on...don’t keep me and them cold and waiting.”

From that point forward, nothing could compare from the warmth of all three of the people that meant the most to you. The warmth of family...the warmth of true friends...and the warmth of love, all sang such a bright song in your heart, helping you to finally find yourself again. The hardened plaster covering your emotional bank had cracked, leaving the feelings to leak free for the first time in a decade.

And with that layer of facade broken by the people you grew to love the most, you couldn't have wanted it any other way. It would always be them to break down your walls. It would always be them that lead you down the path to find the you you’ve always been searching for. And it would always be them that provided you with the love that you’ve missed out on in life.

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evesbeve · 3 years

Text

a little grey hair for every scare you share (komahinanami)

this is my contribution to @danganronpavalentines, for @akito666us! you asked for hajime, nagito and chiaki going ghost hunting, but i may or may not have included a reference to one of your other requests in this... happy valentine’s day!

(read on ao3)

___

Nagito wasn’t quite sure how the rumors about the cabin behind Hope’s Peak Academy started. He vaguely recalled some first years a few months ago saying they heard some weird noises coming from the abandoned building, but when it was brought up again this morning during homeroom, Mioda claimed she had also heard them. Soon enough, they were all arguing about whether ghosts inhabited the school grounds after midnight or not.

It didn’t seem like the argument was going to end anytime soon—Yukizome-sensei’s attempts were buried by Souda’s desperate screams for help, even though they were nowhere near the cabin—but then their dear class representative came to her rescue.

“I’ll do it.”

The class fell into silence, all gazes pinned on her.

“Y-You’ll do it?!” Mioda said.

Nanami gave her a warm smile. “Yep. I’ll check it out tonight. That way, we’ll know whether the rumors are true or not.”

“Well it’s not like I think ghosts are real or something,” Kuzuryu said, biting into his pencil. “But shouldn’t someone go with you?”

“Oh, oh, oh, that’s true!” said Owari. “It’d suck if our Class Rep was abducted by some sort of ghoul monster or something!”

Tsumiki yelped. “G-G-Ghoul monster?!”

Nanami shrugged, ignoring Saionji’s remark about needing everyone to get their story straight and how stupid Tsumiki was to fall for it. “I… I suppose I could ask—”

“I’d be glad to help!” Nagito interrupted, trying his best not to sound too excited. It wasn’t as if he didn’t already know who Nanami’s first option was.

“That’s okay. I was going to ask H—”

“You can still ask him,” Nagito said. And then, for good measure, he added, “I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend the evening with a couple of Ultimates? To be such close to hope itself… what could possibly top—”

“That’s an odd way of saying you wanna hang out with your friends…” Hanamura mumbled, and it took everything in Nagito not to glare at him.

But Nanami didn’t seem to mind. Instead, she gave Nagito a knowing smile, melting away his annoyance. “Okay.”

So yes. That’s kind of how Nagito found himself standing in front of a worn-out cabin in the dead of night with his two favorite people in the world. He wasn’t about to reveal the last part out loud though—especially not to them.

The wooden cabin was barely even visible under the moonlight; Nagito had to squint when they approached it. Apparently, it’d been used for storage when the school was first built, and no one bothered to clean it out when they moved everything to the basement in the actual building. Nagito couldn’t help but wonder if the teacher faculty themselves were afraid of the rumors too.

“I’m… not so sure this is a good idea.”

It wasn’t unlike Hinata to tag along Class 77th’s mischiefs. Nanami had started dragging him along to almost every class activity she put together—it was how Nagito had met him, after all—but he couldn’t help his excitement. There was something… different, about Hinata, something Nagito couldn’t quite place. It fascinated him beyond words, and so did Nanami’s ability to see it too.

“Can’t be worse than last year’s Hamlet,” Nanami said, barely looking up from her console.

Nagito remembered the tragedy that was last year’s Shakespeare tribute. Though he didn’t personally know any of the students that put on the play, the Ultimate Pianist had seemed to be the one to organize it—he felt kind of bad for her, considering how it ended.

“But you didn’t even watch it!” Hinata argued, pointing at Nanami’s game.

Nagito chuckled lightly. “Ah, you weren’t there for the… incident, were you, Hinata?”

Nanami grumbled under her breath.

In the play, a tall boy with messy, purple hair, who Nagito believed to be the Ultimate Astronaut, took on the role of Hamlet. He gave an outstanding performance until the final act, but his moment of glory didn’t last very long. Once Hamlet dropped dead on stage, the Ultimate Supreme Leader—who played Laertes—jumped on his feet, claiming the poisoned blade hadn’t actually stabbed him, and started jumping around, attacking Hamlet with every prop he could find.

One of them somehow bounced off the stage, directly on Nanami’s console, and broke it.

Had the curtains not closed, Nagito was almost convinced she would have thrown it back at the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s face. Regardless, Hinata hadn’t been there, and Nagito highly doubted it was something Nanami wanted to talk about, so unless someone else explained it to him, he couldn’t have possibly known.

Hinata shrugged. “Reserve Course students weren’t allowed to come, but Mitarai told me it was a disaster.”

“You could say that…” Nanami mumbled. Nagito couldn’t help but wonder why she was still upset about it. They’d all come together and bought her a new console two days later, and she surpassed all of her high scores anyway. Having a talent was truly fascinating.

“A-Anyway, why are we even talking about Hamlet?” Hinata said, and Nagito was quickly reminded of the play’s theme; ghosts. “Let’s just get this over with, it’s late enough already…”

Nagito grinned. “You didn’t strike me as the kind of person to be intimidated by ghosts, Hinata.”

“I’m not scared!”

“I didn’t say scared.”

“He didn’t say scared,” Nanami said at the same time as him. Hinata crossed his arms and buried his face in his scarf, but Nagito could still make out the faint blush on his cheeks. He didn’t think there was a single person in the world that could deny how adorable he looked like this.

“Either way, you’re right, Hinata,” Nagito said, in hopes to distract him. He took a step closer to the door of the cabin, pushing it open. He grinned. “Let’s go ghost hunting.”

As expected, no actual ghosts were waiting for them inside the cabin—what they did stumble upon was a seemingly abandoned bird’s nest in the corner of the ceiling. A swallow slipped inside the cabin from the broken window, and Hinata let out the highest pitched scream Nagito had ever heard as he pulled him and Nanami closer by their arms.

Well, Nagito thought as he leaned his head on Hinata’s, exchanging a quick smile with Nanami, this is just my luck.

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catgrump · 3 years

Note

about the writing request thing... would you write komahinanami (as a throuple, not as a hajime has two hands thing)? idk what sort of thing,,, maybe fluff??? like a sickfic or something

We love a good Poly Pod in this house!!

College AU with a dash of And They Were Roommates as a treat

Also this is my first time writing anything with Nagito in it so the stakes are high

🌻🌻🌻

Hajime spat out the swig of mouthwash he gargled and looked at himself in the mirror

He wasn’t completely satisfied, so he took his comb from the sink vanity and brushed some hair to the side, then shifted it practically back into its original place with his fingers

He smiled at his reflection, ready to go.

He turned off the bathroom lights and entered his adjoined bedroom, grabbed his backpack that he packed the night before, his coat and scarf, and headed to the living room so he could put on the shoes he wore yesterday that are sitting in his apartment’s entryway

What he wasn’t expecting, though, were his two roommates lounging on the couch, wrapped in blankets, holding game controllers, looking miserable.

The door to their balcony was unobstructed by the blinds, displaying last night’s snow continuing to fall. If it weren’t for the obvious discomfort on their faces, the scene would be quite cozy.

“Nagito? Chiaki? Don’t you guys have an 8AM? I thought you’d be out of here by now.”

Chiaki, barely looking up from the TV, replied “I feel like garbage and he’s running a fever, I think.”

Nagito looked up at Hajime, cocked his head, and remarked with a slight smile, “Quite unfortunate, isn’t it?”

“You think he has a fever?” Hajime asked, “Do we not own a thermometer?”

“Chiaki ordered one on Postmates,” Nagito replied, still smiling

“Along with more anti-bacterial wipes and mac-and-cheese,” Chiaki added, “I didn’t want a Small Cart Fee.”

Hajime put his bag down and approached them, placing the backs of his hands on their foreheads. “Well, if the Mom Fever Check Method has any validity, you both seem to have come down with something.”

“How do you feel, Hajime?” Chiaki asked, pausing their game

“Yeah, what’s weird is that I feel totally fine,” Hajime sat on the wooden coffee table to face them

“We were all together last night,” Nagito couldn’t resist leaning in toward the two of them, “Pretty, um, close, if I recall correctly.”

Hajime sheepishly laughed as Chiaki smiled and rolled her eyes, “If one of us was sick last night without knowing, and got another person sick,” Chiaki continued, “Then shouldn’t all three of us be sick?”

“Looks like Hajime is the lucky one this time,” Nagito teased

“Well, I live with the two people who are most important to me,” Hajime replied, feeling his face begin to flush, “I’d say that’s pretty lucky.”

Chiaki smiled as she pretended to gag, “Eugh, Nagito is usually the mushy one; maybe you are sick.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry for trying to help my partners feel better!” Hajime said sarcastically

Chiaki stuck her foot out and nudged Hajime, and he pretended to keel over in defeat

“Hajime,” Nagito cooed his name in a way he knows makes hearts flutter, “Skip class and stay home with us? Please? Chiaki and I agreed we’d miss you too much.”

Chiaki chimed in, “You’re on campus basically all day on Wednesdays.”

“Yeah, cuz I have two labs; you guys know this. Besides, it’s so close to the end of the semester—“

“— and you haven’t skipped any class. Not even once,” Nagito retorted, “I admire your dedication and perseverance, but...”

“But?” Hajime pried

Nagito relunctantly admitted, “We really want you here with us.”

Hajime sighed, and considered the potential outcomes. One absence in three of his classes won’t kill him, right? And Chiaki keeps gummy vitamins on hand, so he can boost his immunity a bit. Maybe taking ibuprofen in advance can prevent fevers? He decides he should look that up first before trying it.

“Fine. You win. I love you both very much but if you actually get me sick right before finals week, I will be so pissed.”

“We’ll be extra careful,” Chiaki said with glee, then suddenly shot a stern glare in Nagito’s direction, “Right, Nagito?”

“It’s not my fault you two are so irresistible that I have trouble keeping away,” Nagito said as he shrugged

“You both are lucky you’re cute,” Hajime said, pulling his phone out of his pocket, “Let me just email my professors and then I’ll pick up my controller for next round.”

As Hajime opened the mail app on his phone, he deleted some store promos before seeing a Campus Alert Message from their university. Intrigued, he opened and read it.

When he realized what the Alert said, he tossed his phone on the couch, slightly irritated. “It’s going to keep snowing until late this afternoon. They closed down campus.”

“Well it looks like this is Hajime’s lucky day after all,” Nagito replied, handing Hajime his phone

Hajime groaned, grinning. He shifted to reseat himself in the gap in the couch between Nagito and Chiaki, giving each of them a kiss on the forehead. “Let me know when Postmates gets here.”

Requests still open!

Tip jar available on Ko-fi 💛

#I’m really nervous about writing Nagito??#I know he’s really important to a lot of people in this fandom #so I wanna do him justice #danganronpa #danganronpa fic #danganronpa oneshot #danganronpa fanfiction #sdr2 fanfic #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #chiaki nanami #komahinanami #sdr2

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violexides · 4 years

Text

ao3

title: love colored nights (and a cute soundtrack)

rating: T

wc: 1767

summary: ““Not playing Bowser may be the first step to winning,” Chiaki teases.

From where he’s laying, Nagito chips in, “He doesn’t seem like the epitome of speed.”

“Okay, Shy Guy main.”

“Shy Guy is perfectly respectable,” Nagito says mildly.

(chiaki and their boyfriends spend an afternoon together)”

i break my three-ish week hiatus with a hopefully good fluff fic. also it’s gift fic for my friend @t3ntacat sorry i disappeared, i hit burnout real fast haha, but i promise i’m working on things (like the requests)

have a nice day!

#komahinanami #chiaki nanami #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #danganronpa #fanfiction

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xicide-xphiri · 7 years

Quote

I would literally jump off a cliff if it would update my favourite fanfiction

- Probably just me

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dizplicity · 7 years

Text

Tagged by @official-scientist

Rules: tag 9 people you would like to get to know better

Name: Marina

Relationship status: Single. I don’t really do romance. Like, at all.

Last song you listened to: Ummmm I’ve been listening to a lot of Twenty One Pilots recently. I think the last one was Ride.

Last book you read: Honestly, if you don’t count text books or manga or fanfiction, it was “The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven” because my university forced all the freshmen to read it over the summer because the author was going to come talk to us or something but he ended up being a no show so I read it for no reason smh I’m still mad

Favorite color: Pastel pink ofc

Top 3 shows: At the moment, Voltron, Steven Universe, and Rick and Morty. Of all time, Avatar: the Last Airbender, Princess Jellyfish, and Ouran High School Host Club. (Osomatsu san is an honorable mention)

Top 3 movies: Captain America: Civil War, Howl’s Moving Castle, and Zootopia but tbh I love every single Marvel, Ghibli, and Disney/Dreamworks movie I just picked one of each.

Top 3 characters: Oh, don’t do this to me... Chiaki Nanami, Pearl, Tsukimi Kurashita. Katara is an honorable mention Do I sense a trend

Top 3 ships: Don’t dO THIS to me... KomaHinaNami, Stony, and Soriel. Klance is an honorable mention. I feel like I’m forgetting something hng

This was fun thanks for tagging me, bae

I’m tagging @lovely--knight @dubzer0 @actionjackcustoms and anyone else can feel free to do this and put me as the tagger if you want ^.^

#tag game

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feyshine · 6 years

Note

lessee i suppose i'll suggest the other problematic son, komaeda!

GUESS WHO DIDN’T FORGET but I AM going to put these under cuts to spare people!

How I feel about this character: Komaeda is as compelling as he is heartbreaking, which is to say ‘extremely.’ Before Ouma kicked my door down and decked me square in my tenderest emotions (a mess for another post), Komaeda was my favorite Danganronpa character, and he still has an iron grip on second place. He’s an absolute mess of loneliness and self-loathing and catastrophically destructive trauma in one messy, drooly little package. [makes a heart with my fingers]

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Hinata to an extreme–and only, only Hinata. I honestly feel that Komaeda and Hinata are uniquely equipped to cope with each other’s baggage, and in Komaeda’s case, I just… cannot imagine a working alternative? I could once have possibly been on board with Komahinanami, but it’s not anything I would’ve gone out of my way for, and what I’ve read about DR3′s treatment of Hinanami and Nanami as a character has given me… concerns, recently.

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: Komaeda, uh, reeeally doesn’t spend a lot of time productively interacting with people who aren’t Hinata in SDR2 canon, and I haven’t played DRAE or watched DR3, so it’s hard to say! I have theoretical interest in his dynamic with Nanami, though, and I wouldn’t mind reading some fanfiction that explores it.

My unpopular opinion about this character: There’s so much discourse it’s hard to say what’s popular and what’s unpopular. Uhh, how about… he and Ouma are entirely different characters and for that matter would almost certainly hate each other?

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: Canon actually dealt Komaeda as solid an endgame as I could have asked for, much to my shock and delight, BUT. I would really like to see post-game Komaeda learning how to be a Real Human Person and tentatively reaching out to his classmates on Jabberwock Island, because the very concept of Komaeda finally letting himself develop actual bonds with other human beings makes my heart grow three whole sizes.

Favorite friendship for this character: My non-romantic answer stands, but–listen, it’s got nothing to do with canon, but 2.5 and theoretical friction of lucky stars alerted me to the possibility of Komaeda and Souda bonding, and I’m honestly super on board for the uncomplicated, shallow shenanigans. Let’s… let’s take a break from the explosive damage for just a little, okay? Y’all wanna breathe with me?

My crossover ship: No interest!

#eldritchfeline #ask meme

0 notes

bravemccalll · 6 years

Text

careful little lion man .3

| ao3 |

chapter three – hyper-aware of my grief

Fuyuhiko remembers a time when he didn’t live in a constant state of anxiety, when his lungs didn’t feel empty when he breathed out.

His mother had blonde hair just like him; she used to brush it for what felt like hours, Fuyuhiko sitting next to her, his head leaning against her knee, his hands tapping on his shins, counting to three hundred, just to know if he could.

“Do you think I could count to a million?” he asked her once.

“You can do anything you want, darling,” she had replied, the bruises around her wrists like dark bracelets. “Anything.”

Fuyuhiko had hummed and wrapped his fingers around the purple colouring. He had read a book about a superhero who could take away people’s injuries and inflict it upon themselves but when he pulled away, his own wrists stayed pale and unblemished.

She had smiled at him sadly as though she knew what he was trying to do, the way she always knew exactly what he’s thinking.

(He still counts, usually when he can’t sleep.

678…

679…)

Chiaki reminds Fuyuhiko of his mother when she’s tired, when she wanders into the Pie Hole, all long sleeved jumpers and fluffy hair. Something about her dulled excitement makes him remember when his mother used to make him breakfast in the morning and push his own hair back to press a kiss to his forehead.

The day Fuyuhiko is meant to go on his investigation with Hajime, Chiaki comes in with her glasses perched on the end of her nose, lifting them to rub her eye sleepily.

“I told you not to stay up all night on the computer,” Hajime tuts, reaching a gloved hand out to brush her hair out of her eyes.

“What was she doing?” Peko asks.

“Her boss is letting her work from here instead of having to move back to her old apartment, but Chiaki took this to mean ‘Stay up all night coding’.“ Hajime frowns at her, his arms folded tightly across his chest.

Chiaki catches his clothed wrist and presses a kiss to his palm. “Sorry, sweetheart,” she murmurs. And drops his hand, letting her head fall onto the counter.

“Wow,” Nagito marvels, slowing to a stop next to the now passed out Chiaki. “She’s completely different when she’s tired. She’s like a whole new person.”

Hajime snorts, his cheeks faintly tinged red.

Fuyuhiko isn’t paying attention to any of it. All he can see is brushed back hair, light in the sunshine coming through the windows. All he can hear is her hushed voice, quiet and apologetic. All he can see is his mother, sitting next to him, offering a sad smile and a small ‘I’m sorry, darling, I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again’.

He doesn’t hear any of his friends shout his name when he runs to the bathroom and empties his stomach of its breakfast into the nearest toilet.

He rests his clammy forehead on his forearm and coughs. It’s been a while, he thinks. Almost two years. New record. And throws up again.

Here’s the thing: Fuyuhiko’s mother had a quiet voice, always softly spoken, rarely sharp. She used to twirl around on the tips of her toes, her hair lifting and seeming to dance along with her. Her eyes were golden, just like Fuyuhiko’s and she used to say that that meant they were in their own club, just for them.

These are all useless facts that Fuyuhiko repeats to himself, desperate to keep her alive, even if it’s just in the corner of his vision, a quick glimpse of skirts swirling and bruised arms.

(5898…

5899…)

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hajime asks.

“Nope,” Fuyuhiko answers.

“Right.”

Fuyuhiko drives in blissful silence for a few more minutes.

“It’s just, you know I’m always here if you ever need me,” Hajime says.

“Yep.”

“Right,” Hajime repeats and sinks into the passenger seat.

Fuyuhiko wants to sigh but stops himself. He wishes he could be more like Hajime – Hajime who isn’t afraid to say what he’s feeling, who isn’t afraid of what will become of his demons if he voices them, brings them to life.

He clenches his fingers around the steering wheel and resists the urge to punch something.

“You should take three deep breaths,” Mukuro mutters from the backseat. Fuyuhiko almost jumps – he forgot she was back there.

“What?”

“Whenever I get angry, I take three deep breaths and by the end of it, I feel less like I want to break my own hand trying to break something else.” She stares out the side window, fiddling with her scarf. “It works,” she says and then closes her eyes as though to physically show she’s done talking.

Fuyuhiko wants to snap at her and tell her that breathing won’t stop him thinking about his dead mother and how now his friends apparently act like her but remembers Peko and how she may not like Mukuro, she doesn’t like him antagonising people for no reason even more.

So, he takes three deep breaths and it actually works. He can feel Hajime’s eyes on him, but he has nothing to say that will even begin to explain how he feels so he just looks in the rear-view mirror for a second before glancing away.

He makes eye contact with her for a moment, but it seems like enough to show his gratitude.

Here’s the thing: a year before everything went to shit and Fuyuhiko was on the road on his own and his mother was left behind with his father, she sat him down.

“You have a sister, darling,” she had said, her hair pulled into a tight ponytail, her face drawn and tired.

“I have a what?” he had repeated. He had only turned sixteen a few days ago and he thought this was the world’s worst late birthday present.

“Yes, she’s…she’s eight now. She’s not mine,” she added and Fuyuhiko understood immediately why she looked so beaten down. “She’s from one of your father’s...other women.”

Fuyuhiko hadn’t said anything except reach out and pull her into a tight hug.

And if her hands dug into his back just a little too hard, then he didn’t mention it.

(Mukuro reminds him of what he thought his sister would be like – dark hair like his father, quiet and pale. Back then he had wanted her to be sad just because her existence made his mother sad but one look into Mukuro’s dark eyes and he realises he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. It’s how his mother looked towards the end.

10,201…

10,202…)

“Why is Mukuro with us again?”

“Because I thought leaving her with a tired Chiaki with no filter and a Peko who is already on edge because of…this morning was just a ticking time bomb waiting to happen,” Hajime says, reaching around to open Mukuro’s door for her without a second thought, barely seeing her surprised face as she crept out the motor.

“Right,” Fuyuhiko says. “Well, this is a great crew.” Mukuro blinks. Hajime gives him an unimpressed look and closes the car door. Fuyuhiko prefers this. He prefers unamused-Hajime to the Hajime who treats him like he’s made out of glass.

All three of them made their way into the morgue, Fuyuhiko sliding a stack of a notes to the man in charge who scuttled off to get the body of Aoi Asahina.

“Anything you want to ask her, Mukuro?” Hajime asks.

Mukuro just shakes her head. “No, I…I don’t want to mess anything up.”

Hajime frowns. “Nonsense, if you have any questions you think will lead to the killer then you should ask them.”

Mukuro squints at her shoes and just nods.

The body is wheeled in and the man leaves them alone with it.

“You ready?” Hajime asks. Fuyuhiko nods. And Hajime taps the corpse.

Here’s the thing: Fuyuhiko remembers the day it all went downhill with perfect clarity.

He remembers not having breakfast because he had slept in too late and missed it. He remembers having to swipe a banana from the kitchen. He remembers walking into the living room and seeing his uncle straddling his mother’s chest, his knees holding her arms down, punching her face so hard that blood was already staining the hardwood floors, his knuckles, her pale hair.

Fuyuhiko’s vision went white and before he knew it, he had thrown his uncle off of her and was desperately shaking her, asking her to wake up. Her nose was broken and her cheek was cracked and blood was spilling out of her mouth and trickling down and colouring everything it touched and no matter what Fuyuhiko did, he couldn’t take it away, couldn’t give himself the broken bones, the blood, the bruises.

(Later, after he carried her to the hospital and had his uncle arrested, he found out that his mother had snapped at his uncle for disrespecting her son, for calling her precious boy a ‘sissy’.

Fuyuhiko’s never drowned in guilt like that.

15,642…

15,643…)

Aoi Asahina is very chatty and smiles at all of them as though she doesn’t know she’s dead. “Hello! How are you all?”

“Fine,” Hajime answers at the time Fuyuhiko says, “No time for that.”

Fuyuhiko rolls his eyes and presses on. “Do you know who killed you?”

“I’ve been killed?” Aoi asks. “Well that explains why my back was sore for a second there.”

“Yes, you were stabbed in the back fifteen times,” Hajime tells her, his eyes trained on his watch.

“Wow,” she says. “That’s a lot.”

“So, you don’t know who did this to you?” Fuyuhiko double checks. Aoi nods. “So, why were you at the bowling alley in the first place?”

“I was meeting up with my girlfriend, Sakura. She left me a note,” Aoi says, frowning. “But she wouldn’t…”

“Where’s the note now,” Mukuro asks, her voice as loud as Fuyuhiko has ever heard it, her gaze entirely on Aoi.

“My bedroom, I think,” Aoi blinks. “But it wasn’t Sakura, hones- “

Hajime reaches a quick hand out and taps her shoulder, her body slumping down once more.

All three of them stand in silence for a moment.

“Well,” Fuyuhiko says. “We might just be able to make a detective out of you yet.”

Mukuro smiles at him for the first time and everything just might be ok.

Here’s the thing: Fuyuhiko sometimes taps the numbers into Peko’s side, a steady drumbeat of his own torture. She always smooths a hand down his face when he does this, as a grounding reminder that he’s down here on Earth, not up in the stars with his mother and the numbers that he’s accumulated over the years.

(“Do you think I could count to a million?” he had asked her.

“You can do anything you want, darling,” she had replied, but she hadn’t told him that she wouldn’t be there to see it.

19,999…

20,000…)

#fuyuhiko kuzuryuu #peko pekoyama #hajime hinata #chiaki namani #nagito komaeda #mukuro ikusaba #sdr2 #danganronpa #nicola writes #careful little lion man #two wrongs don't make a pie #kuzupeko #kuzupeko fic #komahinanami #komahinanami fanfiction #pushing daisies au

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bravemccalll · 6 years

Text

some princes don’t become kings .3

a03 | ff.net

chapter three – despite what you might think, I am alive

Hajime used to think that ghosts were vague shapes that you always saw at the corner of your eye but could never actually see face on.

He was very wrong and the ghost pacing his kitchen at four in the morning was proof of that.

“Go back to bed, shithead,” the ghost says.

Well.

Someone knocks on his door at exactly midnight. Hajime doesn’t get up from his couch.

“Are you gonna get that?” Fuyuhiko asks, throwing an egg up in the air and catching it. Hajime thinks about how at one point, Fuyuhiko is going to lose the ability to touch physical items and the egg is going to splatter all over the ground.

“I really don’t want to,” Hajime replies. He gets up anyway.

He sees Gundham and Sonia through the peephole. He opens the door against his better judgement.

“Aha!” Gundham exclaims. Hajime already regrets every decision he has made in his life. “I have a few questions for you – “

An egg smashes onto the ground somewhere behind him. Hajime sighs.

“Can ghosts move objects even when we don’t see them move right in front of us?” Sonia whispers.

“It seems so,” Gundham replies.

Hajime closes the door.

Fact: Fuyuhiko has a nervous tick. It is where he runs his right thumb along the side of his pointer finger.

Not a fact: he does this because he wants to go home. His home isn’t this apartment. Hajime doesn’t know this for sure. Hajime just suspects.

“I think Fuyuhiko needs to move on,” is how Chiaki greets Hajime when he goes over to her apartment.

“Hello,” Hajime replies. “I brought that tea you wanted. And what?”

“Oh,” Nagito coos from the couch. “Chamomile.”

Hajime collapses next to Nagito. Chiaki repeats what she had said. “You say that like he just got out of a relationship,” Hajime says.

“In a way he did,” Nagito muses. “His relationship with life.”

“Dear god, how many drugs are you on?” Hajime says. Nagito grins.

Chiaki drops onto Hajime’s lap and throws her legs over Nagito’s. “I think he needs to find the closure that he needs and move onto the next level of life.”

“Darling, we talked about you comparing everything to video games,” Nagito says.

Chiaki drums her fingers on Hajime’s shoulder. “Do you know how he died?” she asks.

“Nada,” Hajime replies, looping his arms around her waist. “He doesn’t remember.”

“Well, he’s famous, isn’t he?” Nagito says. “Surely his death got some coverage when it happened.”

“That’s true,” Hajime says. “Hey, good idea, Ko.”

Nagito smiles at him. Hajime feels surprisingly light.

Fact: Nagito is a professional photographer. He usually takes photographs for weddings.

Also a fact: he makes extra copies of each photo he takes. He draws moustaches on them and sticks them up around his apartment. Hajime’s favourite is the one of a woman with red hair who Nagito had drawn an eyepatch on.

“Do you want to pass on?” Hajime asks Fuyuhiko.

Fuyuhiko pauses where he stands in front of the oven, pretending that he actually knows how it works. “I guess? I don’t want to spend more time with you than I have to,” he says.

“Yeah, yeah, you hate me, et cetera, et cetera. Just wanted to warn you because Chiaki is coming over in about – “ Hajime checks his watch. “ – Two seconds with all the information surrounding your death.”

Fuyuhiko opens his mouth to say something but Chiaki bursts in before he can get a word out. She thrusts a sheet of paper into the air above her head. “Severe head trauma,” she cries, her chest heaving, her braid a wind-blown mess.

“Try again,” Hajime says.

“Severe head trauma,” Chiaki repeats, more solemnly. She turns to Fuyuhiko and shoves the piece of paper in his face. “You were smashed over the head with a three-kilogram weight. The police never found out who did it.”

“Ah,” Fuyuhiko says, distantly.

“You alright?” Hajime asks.

Fuyuhiko nods. “Yeah,” he scoffs. “It’s whatever.”

Hajime and Chiaki share a look. “So, I was thinking if we can figure out who did this to you then you can move onto the next level of life.”

“Chiaki. No game metaphors,” Nagito calls from his apartment. Chiaki kicks the front door closed with her foot without looking.

“So, what’s the last thing you remember?” Chiaki continues.

“Nothing special. I was having lunch with the band.” Fuyuhiko frowns down at the cooker. “I feel like I knew something I shouldn’t have. But I don’t know what. The meal felt tense.”

“What was tense?” Hajime says.

“All the members.” Fuyuhikos stops and crosses his arms. “I think… I think I had found something out…about all of them. A secret. I just can’t remember what.” He looked frustrated at himself.

“Hey,” Chiaki says, reaching out and patting Fuyuhiko’s shoulder. “It’s a start. As my mother liked to say, it’s better than nothing.” Fuyuhiko gives her a smile that is there and then gone.

There is a beat of silence.

“Chiaki, where did you get all that information?” Hajime asks, nodding to the sheets of paper clutched in her hands.

“Oh,” she replies, smiling brightly. “I stole it from the library.” Fuyuhiko chokes on a laugh while Hajime sighs and flops backwards onto his couch.

Fact: Hajime doesn’t have a lot of love for coffee. He still drinks it. He drinks it too much.

Also a fact: he drinks it at three in the morning while Fuyuhiko nags at him to go to bed. (Once Fuyuhiko actually managed to smack the mug out of Hajime’s hands. They had both stood in silence before Hajime made another cup. Fuyuhiko had looked exasperated.)

“I’m just saying what you’re thinking,” Nagito says.

“None of us were thinking that Fuyuhiko and Peko should date,” Chiaki points out. Hajime nods his agreement against her thigh.

“Well, why not?” Nagito says, rubbing his hand up and down Hajime’s shin. “He likes her, she likes him… subconsciously anyways.”

“He’s dead and she can’t see him,” says Hajime.

“A minor obstacle,” Nagito says.

“Minor,” Hajime repeats.

“You know,” Chiaki interrupts. “We could ask that couple that live next to you if they have anything for seeing ghosts.”

“The Ghostbusters?” Hajimes says. “I doubt they will. If they did, they would be using it themselves.”

“Do they still think you’re a ghost?” Nagito asks.

Hajime nods. Nagito snorts.

“Remind me to ask them anyway,” Chiaki says.

Fact: Sonia and Gundham have a pentagram drawn in the centre of their living room.

Lie: this is the strangest thing that Hajime has ever seen in his life time.

Truth: walking in on Kazuichi chopping his hair in his bathroom is the strangest thing Hajime has ever seen. Despite the ghost that is haunting his apartment.

“I just don’t know why you’re cutting your hair in my bathroom,” Hajime says.

Kazuichi looks sheepish. “Well, it needed a trim,” he explains.

“In my bathroom,” Hajime repeats.

“I try not to judge your choice of friends,” Fuyuhiko says from the couch. “But this is on some next level.”

“Stop stealing Chiaki’s game metaphors,” Hajime says to him.

“What?” Kazuichi asks, looking confused, his hand still raised over his head, a pair of scissors clutched between his fingers.

“Nothing,” Hajime sighs. Having a ghost in his flat is proving to be more stressful than he was prepared for it to be.

Fact: Hajime has nightmares. They are always short flashes of times gone by. The shine of his mother’s hair when the sun hit it just right. The glint of his father’s reading glasses. His brother’s hands, rough and work weary.

Not a fact: if Fuyuhiko could sleep, he would have dreams just like this. Hajime doesn’t know this for sure. He just thinks.

Peko stares at Hajime, incredulously. “Let me guess this straight,” she says. “You want me to put on these goggles and look around the apartment.”

Hajime nods. “No questions asked would be preferable.”

“This is so stupid,” Fuyuhiko mutters. Hajime elbows him in the ribs as subtly as he can.

Peko sighs and shrugs. “What have I got to lose?” she says, almost to herself and puts the goggles on.

She looks around the apartment for a few moments, the goggles magnifying her eyes and making them look as though they are bugging out of her head.

She turns to Hajime and tilts her head to the left of him, where Fuyuhiko is standing. Hajime hears Fuyuhiko inhale sharply and Hajime feels his heart stop. Her lips purse for a second.

She looks away.

Fuyuhiko sighs and Hajime turns to see him looking at her, dejectedly.

She takes off the goggles. “Was I supposed to see anything with these on?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” Hajime replies. He takes the goggles off her and feels her pulse racing beneath her skin. “I really don’t know.”

“Oh my god,” Nagito grins as he races into Hajime’s apartment. “Guess what I saw when I was downstairs a few minutes ago.”

“Still not wearing shoes,” Fuyuhiko observes. “Picked a real winner here.”

“What did you see?” Hajime asks.

“Peko with a book all about The Almost.” Nagito spreads his hands out in a ta-da! motion.

Hajime looks over at Fuyuhiko and finds him staring at Nagito in a daze, his face flushing pink. “My band?” he asks, distantly.

“So that means she totally saw you when she put those goggles on.” Nagito reaches into one of the kitchen cupboards and grabs a handful of Cheerios.

“Maybe she’s just a fan of the band,” Fuyuhiko points out.

“Honey, no one’s a fan of the band,” Hajime simpers and gets a cushion thrown in his face. “But she didn’t say anything when she had the goggles on,” Hajime adds.

“Maybe she knows something,” Nagito says.

“Like what?” Fuyuhiko asks.

Hajime doesn’t have an answer for him.

Fact: Everyone has secrets.

Also a fact: Hajime is determined to find them out.

#hajime hinata #fuyuhiko kuzuryuu #peko pekoyama #nagito komaeda #chiaki nanami #kazuichi souda #komahinanami #komahinanami fanfiction #kuzupeko #kuzupeko fic #sdr2 #danganronpa #nicola writes #some princes don't become kings #ghost au #hmmmmmmmmmmmmm

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bravemccalll · 6 years

Text

some princes don’t become kings .2

| ao3 |

chapter two – love, what a fickle thing

Hajime remembers watching videos about people who went into haunted houses and claimed that they saw a volatile spirit.

He wonders if he can technically say that he met an aggressive spirit after living here.

“If you fucking accuse me of eating your fucking Cheerios one more time,” the ghost haunting his apartment says, “I’m going to take a pipe and bash your skull in with it.”

Hajime just sips milk from a bowl devoid of any cereal.

“I can’t even eat anything,” the ghost, Fuyuhiko, snaps.

“That’s what they all say,” Hajime replies. Fuyuhiko throws a cushion at him.

Well.

Fact: the man who lives with Chiaki has fluffy white hair that reminds Hajime of cotton candy. Or a cloud. He isn’t sure yet.

Not a fact: he isn’t human. Hajime just thinks he might not be of this world. Nothing confirmed as of yet.

“Hello, my name is Nagito Komaeda,” the man who lives in apartment 13 along with Chiaki says. “I think,” he adds.

“You think?” Hajime asks. Nagito is very tall. His head almost brushes the top of Hajime’s doorway.

“I’m like, 98% sure,” Nagito says.

“Do you attract crazy people or something?” Fuyuhiko asks from beside Hajime. Hajime can only shrug. Nagito looks curious.

“Is the ghost here right now?” he asks. There’s a camera looped around his neck with a rainbow strap.

“He’s always here,” Hajime sighs. “Wait, how do you know – “

“Chiaki tells me everything. We’re best friends,” Nagito says. “Well, I’ve got to get to work. Ciao!” With a cheery wave, Nagito turns and disappears down the hallway.

“He isn’t wearing shoes,” Hajime says. He turns to Fuyuhiko to give him a disbelieving look. “Fuyuhiko, he’s not wearing shoes.”

“I noticed,” Fuyuhiko drawls.

“Why am I attracted to him?” Hajime asks, half talking to himself.

“Jesus Christ,” Fuyuhiko groans. Hajime can only agree.

Fact: Chiaki, from what Hajime has seen, always wears dresses. They usually have some wild and bright pattern on them.

Also a fact: Hajime likes them.

“How can you see ghosts?” Hajime asks her once when she’s over at his apartment. He’s only known her for a few days but already she has made herself at home in his space. There’s two mugs on the drying rack, the one with the slogan Pugs Not Drugs is Chiaki’s and the one that reads Pugs And Drugs is Nagito’s.

“Well, I’ve talked to other people that can see ghosts and they said that you can only see spirits if you’ve seen someone die.” She’s sitting at his Writing Desk That He Never Actually Writes At while he lies across his couch. She’s stretched her leg out and he’s cupping her ankle with his hand. He can feel her pulse through her skin.

“Oh,” he says. Her dress has pineapples on it today.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks and he thinks that this is the first time that he’s seen her not look completely consumed with happiness.

“Do you?” he asks in return.

“Not particularly,” she replies and turns back to his laptop. She’s reading the novel he’s working on and he finds that instead of tensing up, he doesn’t really mind.

“Can I come out now?” Fuyuhiko calls out from the bathroom.

“No, we’re still having sex,” Chiaki replies. Hajime snorts and she grins at him like she usually does.

Fact: Fuyuhiko does not understand any references that Hajime makes in front of him. Hajime finds this hilarious.

Lie: Fuyuhiko never gets irrationally angry about this.

During the night, someone must have crashed their car into the pavement. The fence at the front of their apartment complex has been mangled.

“Oh,” Hajime says when he sees it. “Mood.”

“What.” Fuyuhiko squints at him in confusion. Hajime only nods sagely and sips his coffee. “You weird me out sometimes, man.”

“Mood,” Hajime repeats.

“Stop!”

Hajime laughs.

Fact: Hajime has had strange dreams before. He usually forgets them by the time he gets up.

Also a fact: he doesn’t forget this one.

Hajime is in a bar. He looks around. The place is seedy and rowdy. Someone slaps a hand onto his shoulder, hard enough that he stumbles. Laughter rumbles from behind him. He turns around and sees a muscular man with a light-brown perm grinning at him widely. Hajime thinks he looks like a biker, and a dangerous one at that.

“Sorry there little man,” the biker guffaws. “Forgot you’re fragile!”

“Fuck off,” Hajime says before he can stop himself. He’s grinning. He doesn’t know why, but this feels familiar. This feels like muscle memory.

“Aw, leave him be,” another man says as he sidles up. His hair is bright red and his lip is pierced. He reaches out and pinches Hajime’s cheek. Hajime bats the hand away without any real aggression.

Another man comes up but he looks sweeter than the rest, with a rounder face and a soft disposition. Beside him is a woman with lilac hair and a passive face. “We’re due up on stage in eight hours. We have to do another sound check,” the woman says.

“Ugh,” the biker groans. “Another one?”

“I’d rather not,” the red head whines.

“Well, when your equipment stops working on mid-song, don’t come crying to me.” The woman pauses to give the sweet man a quick glance before she turns on her heel and leaves. The biker watches her walk away and Hajime punches him in the arm.

“Have some respect, dick,” he chides. The biker simply grunts before all of them follow the woman out the bar.

The sweet man turns his head and gives Hajime a grateful smile. Hajime opens his mouth, to say something, he doesn’t know what because the next moment –

he’s awake.

He blinks at the ceiling. He tries to understand his dream but he finds he just can’t.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Fuyuhiko asks. Hajime lifts his head and sees his ghostly roommate sitting, slouched in the wicker chair in the corner of his bedroom.

“Sorry, little man,” Hajime says.

“What did you just say?” Fuyuhiko asks. He looks pale. He always looks pale, a side effect of being dead he had once said, but now he looks completely white, as though Hajime has brought up the ghosts of the past that should’ve been left alone.

“Nothing,” Hajime says. “Ignore me, I’m just tired.” He turns around and closes his eyes, determined to go to sleep. He can feel Fuyuhiko’s stare on his back for the rest of the night.

Fact: another man and woman have moved in but this time it’s next door to Hajime. They call themselves ghost hunters.

Lie: they are completely professional.

“Show us the ghost!” the man who lives next door exclaims after he waltzes into Hajime’s apartment without knocking. Hajime is sitting on his old couch, eating Cheerios in his Cookie Monster pyjamas. He feels exposed.

“Gundham!” the woman says as she walks in as well. “You need to knock first. We talked about this.”

“Ah, yes. My apologies,” he says to Hajime and the two of them leave, closing the door behind them.

There is a beat of silence. Someone knocks the door.

“I swear my life was peaceful before you showed up,” Fuyuhiko sighs from the bookshelf.

“’Life’,” Hajime replies, using air quotes. Fuyuhiko scowls at him. Hajime answers the door.

The man – Gundham – grins wildly at him. He has a third eye drawn on his forehead in sharpie and multiple runes tattooed on his arms. “Greetings, mortal! We heard there is a ghost problem around these parts. You will aid us!”

“We hope you will, is what we’re saying,” the woman interjects. She also has runes on her arms. Her blonde hair swings around her shoulders as she bounces on the smalls of her feet. “I am Sonia and this is my life partner, Gundham. We are the Ghostbusters!”

“Oh,” Hajime says. “Like the movie?”

“The what?” They say in unison. They’re wearing matching outfits – black v-necks and dark skinny jeans. He is holding an old looking book and she has a utility belt around her waist. Hajime feels so tired.

“Never mind. Besides, there’s not a ghost here so – “ As though Fuyuhiko had waited for Hajime to say just that, he knocks Hajime’s cereal bowl off the coffee table and it clatters on the floor. Hajime turns around and glares at Fuyuhiko. Fuyuhiko smiles back at him sarcastically.

Gundham has narrowed his eyes at Hajime, suspiciously. “Unless…” he says. “You are the ghost.”

Sonia gasps and looks delighted. “Wow! I’ve never met a real ghost before!”

“Worry not, my dear, I know what to do!” Gundham tears through his book with a passion while Sonia watches on.

Hajime closes the door.

“I’m going to bed and I’m not speaking to you for the rest of the week,” he says to Fuyuhiko. Fuyuhiko just grins at him.

Fact: Peko owns the apartment complex they all live in, Raven Housing. Hajime doesn’t know where she got the money and sometimes he’s too scared to ask.

Not a fact: she’s probably a princess from some foreign land. Not confirmed yet. Yet.

“I have a date,” Peko says.

Nagito gasps from where he has clambered onto Hajime’s kitchen counter. “But you can’t.”

Hajime glances over and sees Fuyuhiko staring at Peko with a down-trodden look. It makes something itch in his chest.

“Why can’t I have a date?” Peko asks Nagito.

“Because the ghost who haunts this apartment complex has a crush on you,” Nagito says, stretching out until his feet are in the sink. Fuyuhiko makes an angry noise but Hajime doesn’t look over.

“Ignore him,” Hajime sighs. “I think he’s on drugs.”

“Right,” Peko says. Fuyuhiko has stopped looking at her like a sad puppy and has disappeared into the bathroom.

“Who is the date with?” Hajime asks.

“Some rich guy,” Peko says, reaching past Nagito to grab a handful of Cheerios from the box and munches on them. It’s the most human thing Hajime has ever seen her do.

“Do you like him?” Nagito asks. He reaches over and links his arm through her’s.

“Honestly? No. I just feel like every guy I go out with is…missing something.” She frowns at the cereal in her hands. “I just don’t know what.”

“How about this,” Nagito says. “You cancel the date and hang out with me, Chiaki and Hajime here. We can play Mario Kart.”

Peko looks over at Hajime with pursed lips. He smiles at her in a way that he hopes looks encouraging and supportive. It must work because she smiles back at them. “Alright.”

Hajime watches her walk out as she brings her phone out. He stands up and reaches past Nagito for the Cheerios as well. Nagito wraps his arms around Hajime’s waist lightly.

“Is she gone?” Fuyuhiko asks from the bathroom.

“She’s not going on the date,” Hajime calls back.

He pretends not to hear Fuyuhiko fall over and knock down a shelf.

Fact: Hajime has more friends than he’s had in a while. Even though one of them is dead.

Also a fact: he can’t remember the last time he was this happy.

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bravemccalll · 6 years

Text

you make a fool of death with your beauty .4

chapter four – bare your ribs for me?

Hajime wonders at what point it is in someone’s life that something Happens to them and it Doesn’t Matter. Like they aren’t fazed anymore.

That point hasn’t arrived for him yet and he wonders if it ever will if he continues to interact with Chiaki Nanami.

From the moment she told him who had killed her and now, Hajime had just stared at her.

Finally, she says, “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

Intelligently, Hajime responds, “Um.”

“I really shouldn’t have told you that.” She starts pacing around his work-bench and he follows the movement with his eyes distantly. She continues to ramble, something about regret but Hajime isn’t listening. His head’s a million miles away. All he can see is Chiaki, dead on the road, crimson blood soaking the right knee of her white jeans, Tsumiki’s pale body before she had sat up and stared into his eyes. These are both things he knows but now his mind is running away from him, racing down train tracks – now he’s imagining Tsumiki driving a car and hitting her best friend, killing her best friend and he’s trying to solve her murder and he can hear the train charging towards him with the realisation that he’s trying to avenge a murderer, someone who had killed Chiaki, killed her –

“Don’t!” he yelps suddenly, jumping back to reality in time to dodge Chiaki’s outstretched hand.

She yanks it back, looking wounded. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like to be touched but you were shaking and I –“

“It’s fine,” Hajime says before he looks down at his fingers. They’re trembling slightly and somehow this grounds him. “Don’t worry about it. You said that you were –“

But Chiaki’s shaking her head, rosy strands of hair whirling around her face. “Ignore me, I’m just talking crazy. I don’t know why I said that. I’ll just –“

“I believe you,” he says and she freezes. She blinks up at him. “I believe you,” he repeats.

There is moment of suspended silence between them before she smiles at him brilliantly. He thinks it might just be a moment, a private one between them if Nagito didn’t roll in with a blur of bright colours to grab the extra sugar, pausing to give Hajime a concerned look that Hajime replies with a reassuring nod.

Nagito rolls out again and Hajime turns to Chiaki. She’s fiddling with the sleeves of her lime green cardigan, rolling the fabric between the tips of her fingers. “Can we talk after work?” he asks.

She nods in return and with one last small smile, she disappears back out the back entrance.

Hajime watches her go and feels his head reattach itself to his shoulders. He feels more tired than he did before but he forces himself to turn towards his oven.

Here’s the thing: Hajime is always exhausted. Nagito once joked that he could sleep for a hundred years and still be tired.

He thinks that his parents’ death is a heavy anchor that weighs on his shoulders, pulling him down and dragging lethargy into his every step. He tries to ignore it but he knows that despite his olive skin, the skin under his eyes is black enough to warrant a second glance.

Nagito never really commented on them, mostly because his own bags appeared darker because of his pale skin.

(Hajime thinks it’s also because Nagito didn’t know Hajime Before. Sometimes he wonders if Nagito would have preferred him back then, more full of life and vibrant, all brash decisions and youthful joy.

Other times he thinks that he has a tendency to over-analyse and he should really just sleep.)

Hajime sends Peko home early and ignores the frown she sends him on her way out of the door. “I’ll be fine,” he’d said. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Not a day goes by where I don’t, Hajime,” she’d sighed and left.

Now, he’s sitting in a booth and waits for Chiaki to turn up.

She shows up five minutes later, looking cold and hassled. She slips into the booth in front of him and he passes her a cup of coffee which makes her smile.

A beat of silence.

“So, do you want to-“

“I thought about what I’m going to say,” Chiaki blurts out. Hajime blinks at her. “I never do that. My dad constantly told me when I was younger that I have never planned anything in my life, that I jump headfirst into everything. He used to say that I’ve landed always on soft ground but one day I was going to crack my skull on a rock.”

“Oh,” Hajime replies.

“I’m trying to say that I’ve…thought about it. You. About what I’m going to say to you that is.” She flushes red. “Not that I’m thinking about you. Not that I don’t like you. I do. But not too much, god you have a boyfriend, I’m not trying to –“

“Chiaki,” Hajime interjects gently. “What do you want to tell me?”

She curls her hands around her coffee cup and he thinks that she’s one of the prettiest women he’s ever seen. “I want to tell you about what happened,” she murmurs. He tries to nod encouragingly and thinks he did it half successfully. “It was New Year’s Eve, about ten years ago? There was that party we were all at, remember? Well, I had left early because I just…wanted to go home, I guess. And I was crossing a road and I didn’t look where I was going before it was too late and I got hit. And then I was lying there on the ground and I swear to you I died but then I wasn’t…dead.” She frowns at her coffee.

“How did you know it was Tsumiki?” he asks.

“It was her mum’s car. Besides when I looked up, I saw her behind the wheel.” She shrugs as though this were a nonchalant conversation. The roots of her hair were dark near her scalp, stark against the baby pink of her hair. He remembers her with dark hair in high school.

“Why did you – you said she was your best friend recently, after she had – you know. So, why did you -“

“Forgive her?” Chiaki sighs and rolls her shoulders. “Tsumiki was…troubled. Around about that time she started drinking. I tried to stop her but I couldn’t always be there, you know? I think she was drunk and she had stolen her mum’s car and it was all an unfortunate coincidence that I happened to be in front of her car. Of course I was angry, but Tsumiki had been through some things that I can only imagine. Allowances had to be made.” She laughs without any mirth. “I actually asked her the next day what she had done that night. She couldn’t remember anything.” She gazed out the window into the dark. “She wouldn’t hurt me on purpose. It was an accident.”

“You deserve better,” Hajime says. Chiaki startles and gazes over at him. She has very open eyes, the kind that ask you to confess all your problems, that tell you that she’ll fix everything. “Friendship shouldn’t be about making allowances for each other. No one should get…hurt.”

Chiaki simply hums and turns back to the window.

Hajime is overcome with the urge to tell her everything; his powers, his parents, how he and Kazuichi met, how he and Nagito met, about how Peko always takes two sugars in her coffee but only one in her tea, about how Fuyuhiko secretly gave half his earnings from cases to charity and thought no one knew about it. To tell her about his relationships with all these people, how they would never make him feel like he had to excuse their behaviour.

“Chiaki?” She hums in response. “You did die that night.” She turns to look at him, open eyes and dark roots. “I brought you back.”

She stares at him for a moment and he feels his heart scrape against his ribs. “I believe you,” she says and he smiles.

Here’s the thing: Hajime hates telling people about his powers. With Fuyuhiko, it had been an accident, with Kazuichi he’d been young enough that he barely remembers it.

With Nagito it had been drawn out and awkward. He remembers saying statements with double meanings and ominous subtext until Nagito had cornered him and demanded a straight answer.

With Peko it had been so quick that sometimes he wonders if it had really happened. One moment he was kneading dough and watching her clean his knives and the next she knew his biggest secret and she’d only spared a single glance at him before she nodded as though she’d known all along.

(With Chiaki it had been like a soft landing after falling for decades. He tries not to over analyse it.)

“No,” Fuyuhiko says.

“I must agree with Kuzuryuu here,” Kyouko admits, a slight tick of her eyebrow the only tell of how she felt about the situation. “Four is a bit…much.”

“The Scooby Doo Gang had five members,” Hajime points out.

“One of them was a dog,” Kyouko says.

“So…you’re saying we need a dog?” Chiaki asks. Hajime snorts.

All four of them are crowded at the side of Fuyuhiko’s car outside of Junko Enoshima’s flat. Kyouko is wearing a hat that makes her resemble Sherlock Holmes and Hajime thinks it’s only half ironic. Fuyuhiko looks dead in the eyes whilst Chiaki looks happy enough to simply be present.

“Why is she here?” Fuyuhiko asks, jerking a thumb at Chiaki who is pulling a magnifying glass and passing it to Kyouko.

“Because she knows,” Hajime says simply.

“Knows what?” Kyouko asks, peering at him with one eye through her recently acquired magnifying glass.

“If were to let everyone who knew into this club then we’d be up to ten members,” Fuyuhiko says.

“This is a club?” Chiaki wonders, looking mystified.

“Yes,” Kyouko answers, looking an inch away from being overly proud. “Makoto told me that people make friends in clubs, ergoe we are now in a club.”

“What’s the club’s name?” Chiaki asks.

“It’s not a club,” Fuyuhiko interjects.

“The Solving Murders Club,” Kyouko says.

“You just said it was a club,” Hajime says. “Besides, I like clubs.”

Fuyuhiko groans and scrubs his face with his gloved hands. “Let’s just get this over with,” he grumbles, heading for the steps to Junko’s door. He knocks on the door and they all wait patiently for an answer.

There is a moment of quiet.

“Hey Hajime,” Chiaki whispers from next to him. “If you’re not in who’s baking the pies?”

“Peko,” Hajime answers.

“Peko can’t bake,” Fuyuhiko scoffs, turning to give Hajime a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t know that you knew anything ever about Peko,” Hajime says.

“I don’t,” Fuyuhiko snaps and turns back to the door.

“Well, he’s right. Peko can’t bake. I had to prepare all of them so all she has to do is put them in the ovens. I have Nagito monitoring her so they don’t burn, just in case,” says Hajime.

“Smart,” Chiaki replies, tapping her temple. Her gloves are a bright white that remind him distinctly of Nagito.

Kyouko leans over Chiaki to speak to Hajime. “That shows good efficiency and time management skills. You will be a valuable member of the Solving Murders Club. Well done.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a slip of paper with a multitude of stickers on it. She peels off one with a golden thumbs up on it and GOOD JOB! written on it and sticks it on his chest. He raises an eyebrow at her. “Byakuya told me that stickers bring up club morale.”

“Oh,” Hajime says. “Thank you.”

She smiles at him, a quick quirk of her lips that’s there and then gone again. “You’re very welcome.”

A phone pings. Hajime frowns. “Not mine.”

“Not mine,” Chiaki says.

Kyouko takes her phone out of her pocket and checks it. “Not mine,” she says.

They all stare at Fuyuhiko’s back. Slowly, he reaches his hand into his back pocket and pulls out the pinkest phone he has ever seen. A charm dangles from the edge. It’s of a little poodle with a pink collar and fluffy white fur. Glitter falls off the entire contraption with every movement Fuyuhiko makes.

He checks it. Fuyuhiko clears his throat. “Peko wanted to know if you had any spare pie tins.”

“I don’t,” Hajime says, absently.

“I thought so,” he replies before typing Hajime’s response and letting his phone disappear back into the depths of his pocket, all the while keeping his back to everyone.

“You don’t even phone me. Ever. Why do you text Peko?” Hajime asks.

Before Fuyuhiko can reply, the door swings open. Hajime feels Chiaki jump at his side and double checks that he has his gloves on before he presses his hand on her back.

Junko Enoshima stands in the doorway and stares them all down, one by one. “I have decided,” she announces with a flick of her blonde hair, “That I am ready to talk.” She turns on her heel and disappears back into her home.

Hajime glances at Chiaki for a moment before all of them step into the unknown.

#hajime hinata #chiaki nanami #nagito komaeda #fuyuhiko kuzuryuu #peko pekoyama #kazuichi souda #komahinanami #komahinanami fanfiction #kuzupeko #kuzupeko fic #sdr2 #danganronpa #nicola writes #you make a fool of death with your beauty #pushing daisies au #kyouko kirigiri #tonaegiri #also i have a masters in repressing my emotions so thats why this has came out so soon lmao #lemme know if theres any errors or anything

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bravemccalll · 6 years

Text

you make a fool of death with your beauty .6

ao3 | ff.net

chapter six – where are my lungs? where is my heart?

“Ok, I’m not saying that by wearing the Solving Murders Club jacket, you are endorsing that it is both an actual club and something that you want to be a part of, but that is exactly what I’m saying.”

Fuyuhiko glares at Hajime.

Hajime ignores him. “You know, I’ve never seen you not wear a suit.”

Fuyuhiko snorts. “I don’t always wear a suit.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

It’s true, Fuyuhiko sits in the booth across from Hajime wearing a white t-shirt, black jeans and the Solving Murders Club bomber jacket. Peko slides into the booth next to Fuyuhiko. She raises an eyebrow at Hajime. “I don’t pay you to sit around and talk to our customers.”

“Yeah, but you do pay me to sit around and talk to your boyfriend,” Hajime retorts. Fuyuhiko coughs and flushes whereas Peko stares at Hajime, looking unimpressed. After a moment, she looks away and adjusts her glasses – an admission of embarrassment coming from Peko. “How could you not tell me? I thought we were friends.” Hajime pretends to pout at them for a moment before he gives up. Nagito was always better at it anyway.

“We didn’t want Kazuichi to know,” Peko says, simply. “And if you knew, you would tell him because you’re very close friends.”

“Why didn’t you want Kazuichi to know?” Hajime asks. He watches Peko shift in her seat, her body slightly tilted to Fuyuhiko. Fuyuhiko brushes his fingers against her forearm. Hajime wonders how he didn’t notice it sooner.

“I could do without the sex jokes that I know he would make,” Peko says. “The only reason he doesn’t make them about you and Nagito is because I think he doesn’t want to think about Nagito as someone who has sex. Ever.”

“True,” Hajime relents. “But I feel like he’d be too afraid of you and Fuyuhiko to say anything too vulgar and – “

“Oh my god! What’s up you dirty dogs? I can’t believe you two have been doing it this whole time, you naughty boys and girls! Did you ever pork in the kitchen –“

Peko whips a knife out and points it at Kazuichi. “Another word,” she warns.

Kazuichi nods shakily. “Got it. You are sexless creatures. Loud and clear. I’ve got to go and – yep.” Kazuichi speeds towards the counter and huddles in one of the stools furthest away from Peko.

“Huh,” Peko observes. “That was easy.”

Fuyuhiko sighs dreamily from beside her but straightens up when he notices that Hajime is staring at him.

“Assassin,” Nagito whispers to Hajime as he skates past.

“What did he say?” Peko asks.

“Nothing,” Hajime says, hurriedly. “Well, pies to bake and whatnot. Have fun you two, but not too much fun. Nagito says he doesn’t want any extra scrubbing to do on the seats.”

He hears Fuyuhiko splutter from behind him and Peko laugh at him. He seriously wonders how he didn’t notice it before.

Here’s the thing: Hajime has known Fuyuhiko for two years but he knows next to nothing about him. The only thing he actually knows about Fuyuhiko’s past is what he had told him when they both got drunk in The Pie Hole in celebration of the first case they had solved together.

“Did you know,” Fuyuhiko had said. “That my dad hates me.”

“Oh?” Hajime had replied.

“Yup. Like full on hatred. He cut off all ties with me.”

“Why?” Hajime asked.

“Because he hates me,” Fuyuhiko said, leaning his head against Hajime’s shoulder with a sigh.

“Oh.”

Fuyuhiko hummed.

“Hey, Fuyuhiko?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Thanks.”

(Peko had found them hours later, passed out and leaning against each other, their hands linked together.

They never talked about it.)

“Have you ever brought anyone else back?” Chiaki asks him whilst she’s perched on his work-bench, her legs swinging idly.

“Only a few fireflies with Kaz when I was younger,” Hajime answers, sliding a rhubarb pie into his oven. “No one permanent.”

“Why?”

“Well, someone else has to die if I bring anyone back for more than a minute and I didn’t really want to deal with the moral dilemmas that come with that,” Hajime says.

“But you brought me back,” Chiaki points out.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure,” Hajime says. He looks at her. Her hair is starting to brush the top of her shoulders. “I didn’t really think about it. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I was thinking of starting a club.” Hajime gives her a disbelieving look. “You know, Dealing With The Fact That We Were Dead But Now Aren’t Thanks To Hajime.”

“Kind of a mouthful,” he hums. “Besides, isn’t one club enough for you?”

“Oh, one of anything could never sate me,” she laughs. “Guess that’s my none of my relationships lasted.” Hajime stares at her. She flushes a pretty pink. “I did not mean to say that.”

“I figured.”

“Can we pretend I didn’t say that,” she pleads.

“Sure,” he says, regretting it already.

She opens her mouth and he hopes it’s to take back what she just said, so they can talk about it and maybe discuss it some more but a loud screech interrupts her.

She frowns and leaps off the bench and heads towards the front of the diner. Hajime follows her.

Some customers are crowded by the windows but Chiaki and Hajime head right out of the front doors.

“Oh my god,” Chiaki gasps.

In front of them are dark skid marks on the road and sprawled out on the concrete pavement is a blonde Labrador. Hajime feels like he’s going to be sick.

“Oh no, please don’t,” Chiaki whimpers and crouches by the dog. She places her hand on the side of the dog’s stomach and her hand comes back stained red. She sniffles.

“What the fuck?” Fuyuhiko says as he walks up with Kyouko beside him.

Chiaki sniffles and looks up at Hajime with watery eyes. “Please,” she says. He’s struck with the urge to touch her, to comfort her but he can’t. “Please.”

Fuyuhiko comes to stand beside Hajime. “Are you kidding me?”

Hajime looks at him helplessly. Kyouko looks confused. “The dog is dead,” she states. “It looks like a hit and run. What can Hajime do about this?”

“Oh Hajime, a hit and run. It’s just like me! Please give it another chance, you did with me,” says Chiaki, her arms wrapping around the dog, lifting it to lay across her lap. Hajime feels his resolve crumble.

“I feel like we’ve had this discussion before, but my life isn’t equal to a dog, is it? Because otherwise, I’m gonna have to start running as you seem dead set on this course of action.”

“What is going on?” Kyouko asks.

“I think a pigeon is going to pay the price for this,” Hajime says. Fuyuhiko crosses his arm. Chiaki smiles wetly at him.

Hajime sighs and reaches a hand down and touches the dog.

It surges up and huffs. It looks around them all before it settles its eyes on Chiaki. With a quiet bark, it presses its face against Chiaki’s neck. Chiaki giggles and hugs it.

“Oh,” Kyouko says, looking vaguely startled. Hajime glances at her from the corner of his eyes, suddenly realising that she could through him in the nearest research facility to be tested on for the rest of his life without ever seeing his family ever again -

Instead, she turns to Fuyuhiko and places her hands on her hips. “Intuitive brilliance? You were just using Hajime to solve all your mysteries, weren’t you?”

Fuyuhiko looks at her sheepishly whilst Chiaki continues to giggle on the ground beside them.

“Oh,” Chiaki says, suddenly. “Can it join the Solving Murders Club? So, we can officially be the Scooby Doo Gang?”

Hajime feels surprisingly happy.

Here’s the thing: Hajime had a dog once. When he was younger, he had owned a small terrier named Heather that barked like mad whenever someone she didn’t know came too close.

Heather had a heart attack and died in front of Hajime just after he had turned twelve.

Hajime had reached out blindly and then suddenly she was up again, grinning at him with a mouth full of teeth in that way she always had.

A couple of hours later, Hajime had reached out to pat her and she was gone again.

(Hajime had wondered if he should get used to it, everyone leaving him before he was ready for them to go.)

“What should we call her?” Peko asks.

“It’s a girl?” Fuyuhiko asks from beside her, his head leaning on the door to the storage behind him. He looks tired. Hajime wonders what has been keeping sleep from him.

“Yep,” says Chiaki. She sits cross-legged on the floor, her knees poking through the holes in her pale jeans. The dog lies on her back in front of her, grinning up at her, lopsidedly.

“It’s a stray. It could have fleas. And you’re letting it into a kitchen,” Fuyuhiko says. His eyes have shut now. There are faint bags beneath them. Peko looks at him with concern, her brows furrowed.

“Peko and I took her to the vet earlier,” Chiaki says, reaching out to stroke the dog’s belly. “She’s clean.”

“Can we call her Cheeto?” Kazuichi asks.

“Never,” everyone replies simultaneously. Kazuichi pouts.

“Perhaps we could name her something incredibly pretentious,” Nagito suggests. “Like Elizabeth?”

Hajime snorts. “Is this you just trying to replace the lizard from your childhood?”

Nagito’s pouts and Hajime almost feels bad. “It died too young, Hajime!”

“Or we could name it – her - Sherlock?” says Kyouko. “Seeing as she is a part of the Solving Murders Club.”

Chiaki hums. “Or we could name her Watson?” The dog barks happily. “Watson? Do you want to be called Watson?” The dog scrambles to its feet and bounces around. “I think we found a name for her.”

Hajime finds himself smiling but it disappears when he sees Fuyuhiko wince. “Are you alright, Fuyuhiko?”

Fuyuhiko shakes his head dismissively. “I’m fine, stop fussing.” Peko frowns at him. “I’m fine, darling. Honestly.”

Kazuichi looks at Hajime from where he’s perched on his work-bench. Darling? He mouths. Jealous? Hajime mouths back. Kazuichi looks offended.

Kyouko reaches a hand up and massages her temple. “I must admit that I am feeling under the weather as well. I am afraid that I will have to retire for the day. Before I forget, my husband, Makoto, wanted me to give you this.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a worn looking leash. “He heard about the dog and wanted you to have this. It was used with his own dog once. My other husband, Byakuya, wanted me to give you this.” She pulls out a diamond studded collar with a blank name tag attached to it. “He can be nice when he wants to be.” She places them in Hajime’s hand and disappears out the front door.

“Is there a bug going around or something?” Kazuichi asks. “’Cause if so, no offense, but stay away from me. I have a shit immune system and I don’t want to catch anything.”

“Oh no,” Fuyuhiko drawls. “Staying away from you? God, life is too cruel.”

Watson trots over to Fuyuhiko and presses her face against his thigh. Against his will, he smiles and pets her head.

Hajime passes the stuff Kyouko gave to him to Nagito and thinks that everyone looks content.

Here’s the thing: Hajime remembers his first encounter with Peko vividly, but his second encounter with her is vaguer.

He’d seen her through a crowd, exiting some high-brow gala when he was twenty. He’d been wandering the streets without direction and out of the corner of his eye he’d seen her about to enter a limo. She’d been wearing a floor length, crimson gown that flared out at the waist and glittered in the moonlight.

He’d stared at her and tried to connect the image of her at eighteen, sitting in a red parka beside him on a curb, chewing on apple pie with the image in front of him.

She’d made eye contact with him and for a moment looked startled, as though she had just come out of a dream. But the next moment she was gone and Hajime had been sure that he would never see her again.

(One year later, they stood in front of the building where they had met, that would soon become The Pie Hole, that she had just bought with all her allowance and he wondered if Peko knew how wondrous she was in his eyes.

She smiled at him almost nervously and he knew that she didn’t and thought that was a damn shame.)

“When we get a visit from the health inspector, will I also lose my job?” Nagito asks him.

“Honey, the only way you’d lose your job is if anyone realises that you never actually do any work,” Hajime says.

“But, you’d never betray me like that,” Nagito says.

“Exactly. So, your job is safe. Besides, don’t pretend you don’t like Watson.”

“I could like Watson,” Nagito relents. “But she makes you sad because I know you want to pat her but can’t. Therefore, I don’t like her.”

“Aw, babe.” Hajime presses a hand to his heart, only semi-mockingly. “That’s so romantic.”

“But, she is cute so in another way I totally like her. Maybe more than I like you…”

“Betrayal,” Hajime deadpans. Nagito smiles sweetly at him and presses a kiss to his cheek before tugging off his nametag and stuffing it in his pocket.

“Don’t stay here too late, yeah?”

With a final kiss, Nagito skates out the door and heads home. Hajime turns and makes his way to the front counter where the rest of the members of the Solving Murders Club sit.

“Take your time,” Fuyuhiko says when Hajime comes to stand beside him. He only frowns, noting how the circles underneath Fuyuhiko’s eyes have gotten darker.

“Fuyuhiko and I have been searching for Junko’s sister but we haven’t uncovered much. We know her name is Mukuro and that she used to be a part of the army but not much else,” says Kyouko.

“Do you know where she is?” Chiaki asks, reaching a hand down to stroke Watson’s head.

“She used to live in an apartment near Junko but she isn’t there anymore. In fact, that really weird guy that eats here? Him and his girlfriend live there now,” says Fuyuhiko.

“Gundham?” Hajime asks.

“Yeah,” says Fuyuhiko. “That’s the guy.”

“We were hoping that you could ask him some questions, figure out if she left anything in the apartment when she left?” Kyouko asks.

“Yeah, of course,” says Hajime.

“I also managed to get a hold of some CCTV footage of the Woodgrove Park the night Tsumiki was murdered but it doesn’t show us much.” Kyouko opens up her laptop and shows everyone a video on it.

The screen is dark but Hajime can make out the shape of some trees and a pathway. Suddenly, from the corner of the screen, two figures appear. One is Tsumiki, her skin pale and bright in contrast to everything around her. She seems drunk and leans heavily on the second figure who appears to be wearing a large, black jacket with the hood hiding their identity. They walk down the pathway and disappear offscreen.

“Does it show the killer leaving?” Chiaki asks. She looks pale.

“Not on this camera. Or any other that I’ve checked. There must be a way out the park without any cameras that the killer knows about,” Kyouko muses.

“If there is why didn’t the killer bring Tsumiki that way in the first place,” Fuyuhiko points out.

“Perhaps they didn’t want her to be suspicious? It might be underground or something. It seems that they got her drunk so that she would go with them wherever they went but maybe if they went somewhere too weird then Tsumiki might have ran,” says Hajime.

“Have you ever met Mukuro, Chiaki?” Kyouko asks.

“Once. It was at Tsumiki’s twenty-third birthday party. She seemed very polite.” Chiaki frowns. “I know she was in the army but I don’t know if I believe she would kill Tsumiki. I mean, why would she?”

Kyouko closes her laptop with a sigh. “Why does anyone do anything?” She taps her fingers on the lid of the device, thinking. They watch her for moment before she returns her focus to them. “Perhaps she didn’t want to. But had to.”

“Why would she have to kill Tsumiki?” Fuyuhiko asks.

“I don’t know,” Kyouko says. “But I have a feeling that Junko is more involved than we think.”

“How so?” says Hajime.

“I’m not sure yet.” Kyouko shakes her head. “I’ll have to think about it some more. Hajime make sure to ask Gundham if he noticed anything weird in his apartment. Otherwise, there’s not much else we can do. Goodnight.” She hops off her stool and leaves The Pie Hole.

Fuyuhiko groans and buries his head in his hands. Hajime frowns at him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Leave me alone,” Fuyuhiko snaps. He grabs his Solving Murders Club jacket and disappears out the front door as well.

Chiaki purses her lips. “I hope he’s alright,” she murmurs.

Hajime nods. “Me too. Has he seen off to you lately?”

“I don’t really know him that well but something does seem to be bothering him.”

Hajime hums in agreement. “Remind me to ask Peko if there’s anything we can do. Speaking of, isn’t she your ride home?”

Chiaki gasps. “Oh yeah, she is. I don’t know the way to her apartment yet.” She makes a face at Watson who rests her face on Chaiki’s knees with a pitiful harrumph.

“Hey, you can sleep on our couch tonight and then in the morning I can give Peko my infamous disappointed look over leaving you,” Hajime grins. Chiaki smiles. “Also, has Watson been sleeping at Peko’s with you?”

Chiaki grabs Watson’s leash and they head toward the door. “Yes, she has. And Peko has been nothing but lovely about it. I was actually thinking of looking for a new apartment for us both this morning.”

“Oh?”

Chiaki nods. “Yup. I don’t want Peko to feel like she has to keep putting up with me.”

“I don’t think she feels that way,” Hajime says as he grabs his coat and gloves. It’s still snowing outside and he can already feel himself freezing. “Peko’s brilliant like that.”

Chiaki sighs. “She is.”

All three of them exit The Pie Hole and head home together. Unbeknownst to them, a dark figure in a black jacket watches them, feeling cold and miserable all at once.

#hajime hinata #chiaki nanami #fuyuhiko kuzuryuu #peko pekoyama #nagito komaeda #kazuichi souda #kyouko kirigiri #kuzupeko #kuzupeko fic #komahinanami #komahinanami fanfiction #danganronpa #sdr2 #nicola writes #you make a fool of death with your beauty #pushing daisies au #i have known watson for one chapter but if anything happened to him #i would kill everyone who has read this story #and then myself

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