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lynneshobbydomain · 4 years

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The Encounter (Day 5: Komahina Week)

((Thank you all for your support, likes and reblogs. Thank you to sunflower_8 for betaing this chapter for me, I cannot ever stress it enough how much you do for me)).

Prompt: Fantasy/Hope/Healing

Rated: T (Hajime has a mouth)

Summary: Komaeda walks into a city thinking he’s just going to pass through for the night. However, the cycle of good and bad luck prevents him from leaving as well as a man with an eye red as blood and a eye green as leaves

You can read it underneath the cut or find me at my A03.

It began with the sound of a coin being flipped up into the air. It twisted and turned, glinting gold in the sunlight before falling down into the man’s fingerless gloved hand, and quickly slapped on the back of the other. A bird sang in the distance and the trees rustled with an invisible force as there was no wind to feel on his skin. The vast open sky that was upon him was cloudless and the sun was beating down on the earth with no mercy to its heat. He looked at the coin and grinned as he looked at the sign posts that were in the middle of his way. The fork of the road split into two different directions. One trailed up to the left, winding into a deep forest, pitched black with only little sunlight for comfort. The other was straightforward through a valley of hills and open fields filled with flowers and little trees to take shelter from the unbearing heat of the sun. The man put the coin back with a soft whistle and started walking towards the hills. If luck told him to go this way, then something should be on the other side.

Silence was a common friend for Komaeda. He was used to the isolation, and he didn’t mind it all that much. The birds singing joyfully to each other was usually drowned out by conversation, loud tavern music among other things. It was nicer to be able to enjoy nature for what it was, than to try to keep a conversation flowing. Not many people wanted to converse with him either, and he couldn’t blame them. His curse was well known throughout the region, and he wondered if he was even going to be welcomed in the next town that he came across.

The roads of the hill weren’t very steep, which was a lucky venture as Komaeda had been growing weary of climbing. If anything, the roads were well taken care of and were used frequently enough that potholes were filled with more gravel and were easy to spot so that he could walk around them. With the freedom to be able to take care of such roads meant that the next town wouldn’t be a town but a bustling city. That would be in his favor, as he was in need of new clothes. His tunic was fine, it was mostly dirty and needed a good scrubbing in the river, but his pants were starting to show holes and mending spells just weren’t cutting it anymore.

Then again, Komaeda wouldn’t doubt that his mending spells were subpar to most of those who could do magic. He wouldn’t doubt that his luck would be awful enough to fray the threads so that they wouldn’t hold up well to weather and washes. It didn’t bother him too much, but he would have to decide if maybe he needed to, once again, be walked through the steps of how to even do a mending spell.

The trek took him most of the day. The sun glided through the sky without clouds to interfere with its path. The warm rays beat against Komaeda’s skin well enough that it was starting to turn pink underneath its torture. Komaeda was aware that there was a spell that could help prevent his skin from being exposed to the sun’s abuse, but he wasn’t sure what that spell could be. Knowing his luck and how it would work, he was also aware that if he even knew what that spell was, it could just backfire and allow the sun a chance to make his skin blister. A small burn was a better price to pay than agony, if Komaeda had any say in it.

The sun reached the western horizon with violet purples, bright pinks, and soothing oranges and yellows melted and blended together and the first bright star sparkled in the sky just as Komaeda reached the imposing walls of the city.

With the silhouettes of the night starting to creep across the sky and the earth, the gates would be closing soon. They were already magicking fire into the torches and the gate would soon be closed. Komaeda quickened his step and hurried over towards the gatekeepers to keep them closing the bridge and gating the city. “Hello there!” He called out to them. “Am I too late to seek entrance?”

“If you had arrived five ticks later, you may have been.” The guard told him, a little stiff around the edges. Komaeda couldn’t blame him. A late customer is not what someone wanted to deal with. “You better hope a tavern has a room for you.”

“I do not mind it if I have to sleep outside.” Komaeda grinned as he walked through the gates. “So far my luck has been good. Of course, bad is always sure to follow.”

“Strange lad.” The guard muttered, probably thinking that the man was out of earshot. Komaeda just grinned, and continued through the cobblestoned path.

The city was marvelous. He could only assume what it could look like during the day. Plenty of houses and shops were built around here. He could hear music and rambunctious laughter bounce through the silence of the city. The houses and the buildings all shared a warm yellow glow that intinced a sense of comfort and home as he walked down the paths. There were plenty of taverns that he could enter, but they were all so loud and full of people. He didn’t want to ruin their good cheer with his impending swing of a down-ward spiral of luck.

Instead, Komaeda allowed the city’s infectious jubilation to remind him that everyone was doing their best to spread their hope in a dark period of despair. The cloud of it hadn’t reached the peaceful providence, and Komaeda wasn’t sure if it ever would. If their hope could shine as brightly as the lights in their home, then the cloud shouldn’t begin to be able to touch them. However, Komaeda was also aware that he could be jinxing his luck to follow through with such a claim. The Lady was quite fickle when she wanted to be and when she wanted something terrible to happen…

The memory of his parent’s burnt bodies in a carriage ride was enough of a reminder of how that worked.

He realized quickly however that being lost in thoughts meant that he would be lost in the city as well. He must have walked too far and too quickly to realize the echoes of the taverns were now behind him, and while the buildings still beckoned with a sense of home and warmth, there was an artificial chill to the air that made the hairs on Komaeda’s arms stand up.

This must be where the darker magic users laid. The taste of copper and metal was heavy against Komaeda’s tongue, as well as the taste of blood and bone. No, this wasn’t where he wanted to be found today. So far the streets were empty. Turning around now would be in his best interest. He quickly turned on the ball of his foot and started walking away, hands deep into his pockets.

Unfortunately for him, terrible luck indeed was about to face him. Perhaps not in the way of a cloud of despair, but he felt something sharp stick deep into his back. He turned around swiftly, a spell of ice on his fingers as he tried to aim. His assailant was cunning, ducking low and toppling him over onto the cobblestones. The knife plunged deeper into his back, and Komaeda gasped in pain. The shock of being stabbed made his body react with a surge of adrenaline and he knew that trying to defend himself wasn’t going to end well. He needed to run and get out of this side of the town.

He got up to his feet with a graceless fumble and started to try to run off. His assailant was quick to be upon him, and tossed him back onto the ground. Komaeda’s head rang with pain and a sound of a bell as he crashed back into the stones. He could feel the man frisk him and he laughed. “Oh this is terrible luck.” He could feel the blade being pulled out of his back and was plunged into him again, clearly telling him to shut up. He groaned weakly as the person continued to frisk him, muttering curses before grabbing him by the collar to shove him against the wall.

“Where are you hiding your coins?!”

“Coins? Dear fellow, I am but a traveler. I have little in the way of money.” Komaeda explained.

“Fucking…” Komaeda’s jaw immediately bloomed with pain and he could feel the blood starting to pool into his mouth. The man tossed him aside, muttering angrily about not having any sort of money on him.

Komaeda knew better than to hand over his wallet. Even though the man was magic, he apparently wasn’t skilled at a seeking spell. Perhaps his luck with magic was better than he had thought after all.

“Jesus fuck, are you alright?”

Komaeda looked up a little dizzy from the assault to see a man standing before him. Not just any man. This man had an aura that surrounded him in a way that Komaeda had never

before. His eyes were a mismatched red and green, moonlight wasn’t a kind friend and the shadows even worse. He couldn’t see what he was wearing, let alone what the color of his hair was. “Oh.” He whispered with reverence. “You have such hope.”

“Okay, so you’re not okay.” The man didn’t sound too amused. Komaeda chuckled weakly and the man started to frisk him. “Jesus you were stabbed and...no, no matter. I can stanch the blood now, but I’ll have to drag you to Tsumiki.”

“Who?”

“Oh god, they really went after someone that didn’t know this place.” The man groaned. “Okay, that’s fine. Just...sit still.”

Komaeda braced himself for the cold wash of a healing spell, but instead was surprised to see the man shrug off his outer tunic as fast as humanly possible. He pressed all of his weight against the wound, causing Komeada to whimper underneath the shockwaves of pain. He didn’t realize the man was actively tying his tunic around his body as tight as he could to keep the blood from flowing. He also was being careful to not remove the knife from it’s second entry.

“Ugh I know I’m not supposed to move you but…” The man groaned. “You’re gonna be in a lot of pain so grit your teeth.”

“A stability spell should not be too hard to conjure.” Komaeda wondered if reminding this man of magic would help him get some of his courage together.

The man froze and he looked at Komaeda curiously before shaking his head. “I’d...rather not touch my magic.” He said and Komaeda found it odd. Odd in a way that it was rather funny. Perhaps the blood loss was getting to him, but he giggled at the sentence. “Yeah yeah I heard it all before. Now I don’t feel so bad doing this.”

He picked Komaeda up as though he weighed nothing more than a feather. Komaeda was well aware that his weight was heavier than such and wondered if the man before him was one of the rare ones that could only magic a spell at a time. It would make sense that he would save a healing spell for someone that had more of a pool of magic than he did. He bit back pained noises as he was jostled while they headed away from the darkness of the city.

“What were you doing down at Gilded Way?” The man finally prodded.

“Ah is that what that side of the city is called?” Komaeda asked, trying to put it in his memory so he could at least call it a name. “I was trying to find a place to sleep, but must have lost my way.”

“You decided to see if you could just keep going straight.” The man sounded as though he was rolling his eyes. Komaeda tried to focus his vision, but pain was blurring everything to bright colors and dark shadows. He could still make out the red of his eye and the brown of his other one. “How about we don’t let you go down that way again.”

Komaeda let out a shrill laugh. “What do you think that I would go down there willingly? Sometimes my feet just carry me to places and I go with whatever luck that follows. Will it be bad luck? Or will it be good luck? So far I am grateful that my luck has been kind to me.”

“I wouldn’t really call this good luck here.” The man argued. “You’re stabbed twice, you must have lost a lot of blood if you’re this delirious. You got punched in the face."

“Ah so that is why my jaw hurts when I talk.” The man let out a frustrated noise that Komeda found endearing. The bright aura that surrounded him hadn’t diminished at all, and it made Komaeda grin. What

to be found by him. “For someone that speaks so negatively, I am shocked that you hold so much hope within you.”

“Yeah. You said that the first time.”

“My apologies, I know that I can be quite a handful and a bother. I should have told you earlier, but I did not mind if you just left me there. I know that I-”

“Please don’t make me drop you to prove a point.” The man sounded as though a cat was being strangled in his throat. The way his voice cracked and suddenly went high was a little startling to Komaeda. He hadn’t been thinking that his “hope” would also mean good will and charity.

Komaeda decided that it was in his best interest to not say a word now. Less for thinking that the man would get upset with him, but more of it was getting harder to see and he was starting to feel drained from the fight. He could attempt to use his magic, he supposed, to help out a little, but his luck already took most of that away. The shock of pain and the agony of his head easily forced magic to feel more nauseous and it was hard to call it forth. Knowing that he was later going to have to give a proper apology, he allowed himself to go limp in his savior’s arms.

It’d just be his luck if the man turned out to be more despair than hope.

A soothing scent of lavender and vanilla gently greeted his nose before the smell of cooking meat and a sound of sizzling graced his other senses. He could feel a heavy weight on his body and the feeling of silk against his skin. Komaeda’s eyes fluttered open and he was surprised to see himself in a room. It was clean of clutter. The curtains and windows were open to encourage a breeze to come through the room. The fresh air was a welcomed friend and he felt more energized and rejuvenated the day prior.

He noticed that someone had changed his clothes for him. A white linen shirt and pants were on him and he could feel tight bandages around his chest. Was he in a home of a traditional healer? He knew some magic users had a strict belief that magic should only be used when the situation was dire. If he was in the home of such people, well, that would explain why that man’s aura was so bright with hope!

The door opened and Komaeda felt a flush rise to his cheeks. The man in question was...beautiful. The aura hadn’t diminished in the slightest and if anything made him appear to be angelic. He had messy brown hair with a stubborn cowlick that looked like a hook. He was well built like someone who was a farmer or had to do a lot of physical labor. He dressed sharply with dark brown pants, a loosely fitted white inner tunic, and a deep green vest that was tied together by two belts. There was a sword that hung on his hip and a carrying pouch.

If anything, Komaeda could believe that this man was a traveler once himself. “Good, you’re awake. I thought you died, but Tsumiki told me that it was just from blood loss. She got upset with me that I didn’t carry any potions to help keep you from getting that way. Sorry.”

“No. My luck was that you were just in time to get me out of the situation.” Komaeda grinned. “If anything I should be apologizing to you. Fainting on you like that had not been my intention.”

“Well...don’t think that’s your fault, but I’ll let you have this one. You’re a weird man, talking about luck like that.”

“Ah I am told that I am a bit strange.” Komaeda replied wistfully as he watched the man stride into the room. “So am I going to get the name of my savior or am I forever doomed to come up with a name for you myself?”

“Hinata. Hinata Hajime.” Hinata said.

His name reminded Komaeda of flowers that could endure a harsh winter and bloom strong and prettily in the summer. “Well, my name is Komaeda Nagito. It is wonderful to meet you.”

“Sorry that it had to be you almost dying.” Hinata said, and Komaeda laughed. “Tsumiki’s busy making breakfast, and she told me to tell you that even though your wounds are healed and she thinks you’re okay, she wants to keep an eye on you. I told her that you got punched in the face, and head injuries are no laughing matter. Even with detection spells and healing waves, an injury to the brain can appear miniscule only to be a serious matter later.”

“Ah I understand. So I am here for awhile.” Komaeda sighed, “Oh, what luck. Well, I suppose that means I get to enjoy the city for a little longer.”

“Enjoy? If anything, you should be planning a way to get out of here. You wouldn’t last long if you decide to stick around.” Hinata frowned.

“For someone with amazing hope, you certainly lack a lot of faith.” Komaeda mused.

Hinata stared at him for a moment. Komaeda wondered if he lost him. It would be a shame, but...not everyone understood. Sometimes Komaeda didn’t want them to try. “Who are you, Komaeda?”

“I am me.” Komaeda replied and he watched as Hinata’s expression twisted into one of frustration. It was almost cute, but Komaeda knew that if he wanted to survive, he was going to have ease up on the teasing. “Forgive me, I could not help that. I suppose you will have to be more specific on what you want to know, Hinata.”

Hinata pursed his lips together. “You talk about luck and hope a lot.”

“I do.” Komaeda agreed easily. “What about them?”

“Why do you hold them in such regard?”

“Ah. One is a curse I am afraid. Always bound to be a cycle of bad and good. What good will come, bad shall follow and what bad shall come, good shall follow. It has always been that way for me. My parents were firm in the belief that my curse was my blessing, but...well...I know a lie when I see one. They knew it was a curse too. My mother tried to steer clear away from me. Only talking to me when I was located in another room. My father could not bear the sight of me. It was a hard life, but...they had met their demise at the hands of a carriage accident during the night. The fires of the horseman’s torches caught them on fire. The horses and the horseman and the other couple inside the other carriage managed to escape. My parents were trapped inside and burned alive. A terrible ending, but on the good luck side, I came across an inheritance and I now am free to travel where I wish.”

Komaeda looked over to see that Hinata had grabbed a chair when he was talking and had pulled it to his bedside. His legs were crossed and he kept his posture open and inviting towards him. Despite the casual appearance, there was a conflict that was playing on Hinata’s face. If Komaeda didn’t know any better, he would say that Hinata was warring with the need to feel pity and the need to stomp that down as fast as he could as there was no need for it anymore.

What won apparently was another question. “What about the aura of hope?”

“Oh! Hope?!” Komaeda beamed brightly and he grinned as Hinata looked as though he was starting to regret asking. “Hope is...a shining future that is just waiting right outside the horizon, Hinata. It can bring so much joy and fruitation to a desperate situation. Hope is going to be the ending of the cloud of despair that lingers over our hearts and minds. Not to mention the physical entity of said cloud!”

“The Cloud of Despair?” Hinata echoed before something clicked. “Oh. You...are a traveler so I guess you wouldn’t really know huh?”

“Know?” Komaeda blinked.

“The Cloud of Despair isn’t going to appear here.” Hinata said and held his hand up before Komaeda could respond. “....Actually now that...I think about it…” He looked at Komaeda carefully. “You...look kind of familiar to me.”

“Really? I cannot imagine why. I have never seen you before.” Komaeda mused thoughtfully. “I would remember such a sparkling hope and you yourself if we had met.”

“Okay, besides my aura, there’s literally nothing special abou-” Hinata broke himself off. “Okay no, you’re right. It’s just not something I’d like to...address.”

“I understand, we all have our secrets. Though I must say, your eyes are very unique.” The jolt of surprise was amusing and Komaeda grinned at the small blush that was appearing on Hinata’s cheeks. Maybe it was a little rude to flirt with his savior, but he couldn’t help it. Hinata made it easy to tease.

Before they could continue the conversation, Tsumiki came in bearing a tray in her hands for a fine breakfast display. Her hope wasn’t as big or as bright as Hinata’s, but there was still a shining glimmar that made Komaeda excited. His luck definitely had turned from bad to good, and he knew to expect the downward swing at some point. She was a beautiful woman with a timid personality, just from the way she was so careful to set the tray down in front of him. Her hair was cut unevenly and she had such kind eyes. “I ho-hope you’re, um, you’re not over exerting yourself. You still nee-need to res-rest.” She told him firmly. “Yo-you could have, uh, have died if Hi-hinata-kun didn’t thi-think to come t-to me.”

“I am very grateful that Hinata even decided to burden himself with the likes of me to begin with, Tsumiki-san.” Komaeda agreed wholeheartedly. “Just as I am very grateful to you for giving me such fine food. I would have been happy with just a piece of bread.”

The horror that was painted on their expressions was a little alarming. Komaeda struggled to figure out what he said that was wrong. Hinata and Tsumiki exchanged a look and he watched as tears started to form at the edges of her eyes. His stomach plummeted a good few inches down his body, basking his veins in a ice cold wash.

“Pl-please don’t s-say that.” Tsumiki pleaded. “Yo-you are-aren’t a bur-burden. I-I kno-know that if yo-you are then I ce-certainly am one too.” Her voice cracked a little. “Yo-you need to eat.” She said firmly before leaving the room.

“Did I...say something wrong?” Komaeda asked, looking over at Hinata.

“I think it’s less that you said something wrong, and more like you believe it.” Hinata said after a moment. Komaeda wasn’t certain what Hinata was trying to say. “You have...an interesting way to look at the world Komaeda.”

Komaeda just grinned. “So I have been told.”

Underneath Tsumiki’s strict gaze and Hinata’s constant company, Komaeda healed incredibly well. There were no scars to showcase the incident, and his headaches were less than none. Of course, where there was good luck, bad luck was certain to follow. One night, with Hinata out of the room, Tsumiki checked him over one final time before clearing her throat. Komaeda gave her all of his attention. “I...don’t….know ho-how to tell you this but…” Tsumiki looked nervous. “It was proba-probably a good th-thing Hinata-kun ca-caught you whe-when he di-did.”

“Oh? I know that my luck can be good and bad, but pray tell why is this such a fortunate experience?” Komaeda questioned.

“Ther-there is a sickness tha-that is going th-through you right no-now. I th-though that my po-potions were defe-defective and I had to ask a frie-friend to te-test them. Your blood is attacking each other...attacking you.” Tsumiki clasped her hands together worriedly. “There is an a-abnormality in your bo-body that is….going to qui-quit functioning.”

“I see. So that was my bad luck.” Komaeda mused. “How long would you say I have to live?”

“I don’-don’t know.” Tsumiki admitted, tears starting to slip down her cheeks. Komaeda felt his own heart break in sympathy. It had to be so hard for her to give such bad news, but for her to stay firm with it….that was extremely hopeful. Maybe there was no cure, and Komaeda was going to live with a body that would be broken down, but...the hope she was shining through was enough for him to be satisfied. “Ye-years? Tw-two at the mo-most.”

Two years. Komaeda took a breath in and let it out slowly. Two years. Well, there was not time like the present to actually start making a bucket list, he believed. Besides, knowing his luck, he would outlive the two year diagnosis only to die maybe ten years later, or if misfortune was to befall him...he wouldn’t even see the next sunrise. “Do you know what might’ve caused it?”

“Al-all I can th-think of is you we-were in the mid-middle of the des-despair cloud.” Tsumiki fidgeted nervously with her hands, trying to gather her courage to tell him such an awful story. Komaeda couldn’t remember being anywhere near a despair cloud, but...if what she was said was true, then perhaps that was how it happened. “Hin-hinata-kun thinks so any-anyway. He’s cer-certain he sa-saw you there. I did-didn’t tell him yo-you we-were sick. I to-told him th-that you we-were exhi-exhibiting sym-symptoms of a ba-bad head injury. Wh-which is true!”

“Saw me there?” Komaeda echoed. “Did Hinata somehow defeat a despair cloud?”

“Th-that’s no-not my story.” Tsumiki immediately backpedaled and Komaeda didn’t press her for more information. This was truly a twist in the story that Komaeda didn’t see coming. How fascinating to hear that such a strong ray of hope had defeated, no was a part of a despair cloud! How intriguing! He was going to have to see if he could grab Hinata alone and badger him to lay the story to him. After all, Komaeda told him his stories. It was only fair for an even trade. “Pl-please do-don’t force Hina-hinata-kun to te-tell it. He st-still has nigh-nightmares.”

Komaeda blinked at the admission. “It is okay, Tsumiki-san. I will not hurt him. I promise. I will steer clear from the topic for as long as I possibly can. If he brings it up himself, I will not stop him.”

“Th-that is fair.” Tsumiki agreed, her shoulders finally relaxing from their tensed up state. “I sh-should let you get some rest.”

The conversation from that night was still fresh in his memory as Hinata walked with him through the city. Komaeda didn’t have any qualms telling Hinata of his limited time, and decided that if he was going to be a part of the city, it was best to start showing his gratitude. Which meant Tsumiki sending them on quests and chores. Some of it was relatively easy. With Komaeda’s luck and Hinata’s fast conversation, they were able to bargain for what they needed. Sometimes, luck was not on their side and they would have to go forge. Which unfortunately was today’s plan.

“It’s so weird.” Hinata grumbled as they walked, heading away from the bustling streets of different people trying to get to places. Komaeda could hear the haggling prices of the vendors and of the customers going back left to right. The city during the day was definitely more lively and colorful.

Unlike before when he first entered, Komaeda noticed that there were some flags that were hung on buildings that were pitch black with an intricate magic symbole dyed in red. He wasn’t sure if it was the city kids idea or not, but there was a hamster face in the middle of these circles that baffled and amused Komaeda endlessly. He didn’t have the heart to ask too many questions, as the knowledge wasn’t going to do him much good anyway. However, he had to turn his attention back to Hinata after realizing that he spoke. “Hm? What is weird?”

“That the town has run out of lavender. That’s one of the most common ingredients for healing magics and potions. I just can’t wrap my head around the shortage is all. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to get out of the city and actually be away from people, but still. Just weird.” Hinata explained.

“Hinata has not told me much about himself, but you do not like the city much. Were you a country boy?” Komaeda asked curiously.

Hinata made a soft clicking noise. “No, I definitely lived in a city too. I guess when you’re...forced out into the wilderness, you begin to appreciate what nature can give.”

“I would never take you to be a druid in training.” Komaeda commented.

“Shut up. I’m not.”

“Oh? You spoke like a druid just now. These cities are ruining my nature and I do not appreciate it.” Komaeda mocked, causing Hinata to snort in laughter.

“Okay maybe I did sound a little bit like that, but you get it, don’t you? You travel.”

“Ah but I’m not one to go around preaching to people about nature versus society.” Komaeda teased. “I am not that confrontational.”

“No you’d be the type to know exactly what was happening, but let everyone else suffer because why not.” Hinata agreed.

“I am almost insulted.” Komaeda gripped his chest mockingly. How long has it been since he had freely been able to banter with another person? A deep pang in his heart reminded him that Hinata most likely belonged to Tsumiki. Getting his hopes up that he could be offered more was just...asinine. Not to mention the death that was slowly lingering behind his back now, would put a damper on all of their moments.

A bittersweet taste, if Komaeda was so keen to say it.

“Can’t be insulted by the truth though, Ko.”

But moments like these ones, Komaeda was eternally grateful for. “Perhaps it is my turn to ask you a question, if I may ask.”

Hinata raised an eyebrow at him before his attention was stolen. He waved to some of the guards as they headed towards the forked road. It would take them to the sun setting, so conversation would have to be easy. Tensed arguments made for poor travel companions, and Komaeda wanted to enjoy this journey as much as he possibly could. “Are you going to ask?” Hinata pressed.

“It is not my business, but I noticed that there is no ring on Tsumiki’s finger.” Komaeda said after a moment. “You are very close to her, and it just…”

“No. No. No. No. No.” Hinata immediately shot down, he didn’t speed up his pace thankfully nor was he throwing a fit about it. Komaeda was taken a little aback by the velmance that was in his tone. “Number one: Tsumiki-san is like my sister. I’ve known her for years and she’s been my friend since….” He trailed off. “Anyway, loving me would ruin her chances with the bard that sometimes comes by the city.”

“Oh, a summer romance! A fleeting love! No wonder her hope is always shining so brilliantly, I thought it was because of you!” Komaeda laughed, clapping his hands together. “How wonderful to hear that she has found something so grand!”

“......You are a lot more excited than I was.” Hinata admitted dryly.

“What was your reaction to her love if I may be so bold to ask?” Komaeda titled his head.

“That the bard probably has enough women climbing on top of her and that she probably only sees Tsumiki-san as a fling. Believe me, I ate those words almost immediately.” Hinata sighed. “But I thought it was a valid concern.”

“What is wrong with one night stands and loves that only last from the sun’s last rays to the dawn’s bright light?” Komaeda huffed softly. “I do not think you understand how romance works, Hinata.”

“I think I have a good idea how romance works. I just wouldn’t want it to last me a fucking I think I already got enough of those as is.” Hinata groaned. “People...like to think they want to know me and when they do...it’s never what they think.”

“I see. So you are the type with many broken loves. I am sorry to hear that. For your hope to be so bright, I had wondered.” Komaeda mused thoughtfully. “So if it is not a love life that makes you glow, what is your hope?”

“I don’t…” Hinata trailed off for a moment. “Komaeda, a question for you instead.”

“I do not mind.” Komaeda gestured lightly. “Go on and ask.”

“How are you able to see hope’s aura? Have you always been able to see it?” Hinata said slowly.

“Hmm.” Komaeda mused thoughtfully. There was a smell of rain that was lingering on the air, despite that there were no clouds that were rolling across the sky. The sun’s warmth that usually was hot and would redden skin was subdued, shrinking away from the earth as though winter was fast approaching. He wondered if someone was trying to do a weather spell. Usually it was inadvisable, when if it was a child who was just learning how magic worked well...a sudden downpour wouldn’t be too bad. Though a tornado would definitely be the worst outcome. “You know now that you mention it, I do not recall the first time.”

“Really?” Hinata blinked.

“No. I do not think I have always been able to see it. I know there was no hope around my mother or father.” Komaeda mused. “Hmm. I know that seeing it around people is rare. There are few people in this world that could actively claim that they are indeed part of hope. They can have hope, do not misunderstand me, but...to actively embody it? It tells a story. A story of a lot of agony, of great loss. Depression.”

Hinata looked away, and Komaeda noticed that there was a furrow that was pinched between his brows. His lips were grimly set in a thin line, and Komaeda kind of wished that he could take back his words, if only his companion would be more at ease.

“Hinata told me that we met before.” Komaeda said slowly. “And I told you once that you and I could not have. As I would have remembered an aura as bright as yours.”

“Yeah. I remember that conversation.”

“Tell me your memory?” Komaeda asked softly. “Share me your vision of me?”

“Version of you? What? Like you’re some type of dream?” Hinata grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled them both to a stop. He yanked so that Komaeda had no choice but to look at him. His different colored eyes blazing with the same type of defiance. “I knew you weren’t a dream.”

“Hahaha. I am truly sorry for upsetting you like that, Hinata.” Komaeda held his hands out in a kind surrender. He hadn’t meant to rile him up. Maybe this was what Tsumiki meant when she pleaded not to bring it up. “We can drop the-”

“I remember you in the Despair Cloud because you were the one that had that aura first.” Hinata immediately cut through. Komaeda felt his breath hitch and he lowered his hands slowly. “You were so torn between...you were called Servant at the time. I was called Izuru. I was considered to be the Despair Cloud’s only hope.”

“I do not-”

“You had a choice. I let you make it. It was a risk that I had to take but you were the only one that could make it. All of us who were in the Despair Cloud had done some terrible,

things and I told you once... I told you as Izuru that there was a chance for hope to shine. I told you to prove to me hope wasn’t boring.”

“I-”

“You pushed all of us out of the cloud. We all scattered like winds to different cities and countries. Slowly we started to band together again, a healing mess.” Hinata grabbed his hand. Komaeda felt as though the world had just been ripped from underneath him. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to answer this. “Some of us lost our memories of the time of the cloud. Some of us remember it so well we still can’t bring ourselves to talk about it. Some of us abandoned our magic in hopes that we’ll never be hunted. In hopes that we’ll never be sought out. The bard that I spoke of? She was one of us.”

“A bard? What could a ba-”

“She was one of our best ones. She could make music that forced people’s ears to bleed. She would mock them for not being able to handle her style. Paired with the dancer’s ability to hypnotize people into a trance and make them dance themselves to death, you had a hell of a duo. It was ironic that instead of falling for a dancer, the bard in question fell for a healer that used her magic as a warlock instead. She used to be covered in bandages, but now she’s able to walk around without feeling the taint.” Hinata continued.

Komaeda was entranced by the story that Hinata was weaving. All of it sounded so far out there, so false, that it was hard to keep a straight head around it. At the same time however, Komaeda could feel a scratching at the back of his brain, a seeping memory that begged to come through. A face marked with symbols that obscured his features along with a collar and a chain that went with it. Servant indeed.

He carefully dislodged his hand from Hinata’s cool grip. The wind picked up slightly and he could feel the cool breeze rush across his skin and play against his hair. He looked over at Hinata and saw the storm clouds rolling close towards them. The scent of rain was heavy on the sky and they had nowhere to take shelter.

He wondered if it was truly weather magic, or if something else was on the brink of happening. Meeting Hinata had been the best luck Komaeda could ever be given, but now he was hearing that not only had they met, they had met twice. Once in a form of a despair cloud.

“I wish I could say I remember.”

“I’m glad otherwise.” Hinata shook his head. “It means better memories. We should continue. We’re going to get rained on.”

“There is a way to make it so that the rain bounces off of you, Hinata.” Komaeda reminded.

“Remember how I said some of us abandoned our magic? I’m one of them.”

“You truly are a strange man. You think that magic can taint you?” Komaeda asked curiously.

“I don’t want to be trapped in another despair cloud.”

“Ah so you do not know how despair clouds work!” Komaeda laughed. “Well, it does not matter. Magic or not, your hope is as bright as the sun when it is high in the sky. I have no qualms that one day I will see you use your magic once again.”

Hinata shook his head fondly. “That may be a while.”

Komaeda thought about the time that he no longer had. He thought about Hinata and how they must have met before. He wanted those memories back but at the same time he wanted to be around that ever glowing up that was around him. “So then I suppose I stay until you do.” He decided after a moment.

“It can be a long time.”

Maybe luck would be his final irony. If the day Hinata shows his magic would be the day that he was to perish. It would be a nicer ending than the ones he was thinking of. “I believe I can wait.”

The rain starved off until they reached the way station just at the mouth of the forest. The thunder rolled across the sky, and the first drops fell into a downpour. The dirt path that led through the thicket was flooded. There was no feasible way for the two of them to try to climb out of the way station and continue on their journey; the mud alone would be a heavy hindrance to their legs. Despite the bad luck of rain, Komaeda and Hinata’s good luck was that someone had been wise enough to restock the station. While it was common courtesy to do so for travelers, Komaeda’s experience had led him to believe it was somewhat rare for someone to remind others that would come after.

The chill of the rain made Hinata huddle close to the fire, and instinctively draw himself closer to Komaeda. Not that Komaeda was complaining. He rested his head against Hinata’s, giving into the lullaby of the raindrops and the soft thunder that drummed above them. On impulse, and for whatever reason instinct, Komaeda brought his arm around Hinata’s shoulders and tugged him a little closer, trying to provide more warmth to him and in the fire.

“You said I didn’t know how the despair cloud works.” Hinata murmured after a while, breaking the silence of the waystation. The cackling of the fireplace echoed the statement. Hinata threw another twig half-heartedly into the fire. The flames caught to the end, swallowing the offering as though hungry for more.

Komaeda stared at the flames for a moment. “A despair cloud,” Komaeda said after a moment, rubbing gentle circles on Hajime’s shoulder, “is not about tainting your magic, Hinata.” The long pause was broken by another drum of thunder. “It is about what you fear inside your soul, and having it push out to the surface. Magic has nothing to do with the despair cloud. You can be the most-”

“Ordinary person in the world.” Hinata agreed. “But you can get your magic from the despair cloud.”

“Oh, now that I was not sure of. I never heard of anyone getting their magic from a despair cloud.” Komaeda mused. “So that is the actual reason why you don’t use it. It was a gift given to you from despair. Oh, but look at how much of a hopeful aura you have! I will not pressure you to use your magic if you do not want to, Hinata. But you have to admit, you have something amazing.”

“No I...am aware. Tsumiki wants to heal and so she’ll use her magic to heal. Mioda wants to play her music and Saijoni wants to dance. Who am I to tell them to stop?” Hinata shook his head. “Their powers were all enhanced by the despair cloud. We can only strive to make sure that it doesn’t...ruin us.”

“Hmm.”

“Servant though, you….” Hinata trailed off. “You told me it was luck.” He looked at Komaeda. “Is your luck magic based?”

“I never understood it.” Komaeda tried not to shrug so that he didn’t disturb Hinata too much. “I just know it is a blessing and a curse. How...close were you to Servant?”

“Why do you ask?”

Komaeda wasn’t sure how to respond to that. The orange and red glow of the fireplace casted a familiar facade on Hinata’s face. If he had longer hair, Komaeda was certain he would be able to determine for sure if his memory was false or accurate. For now, the rain continued to try to lure them into a slumber, and the entrance to the waystation was pitched black as a cave. “Because I feel as though you miss him.”

“I’d rather miss you.” Hinata shrugged. “I know that we only spoke when you were in bed and you were probably dying to go outside, and I also know that first meeting...that was a terrible introduction but...I want to miss you.” He paused. “I know why you’re sick. Everyone in the despair cloud didn’t just get gifted with magic or enhanced with magic. Everyone carries some sort of scar from it.”

“I see.” Komaeda murmured. “Then, pray tell, what is your curse?”

“....I’m literally two people, Komaeda, in one body. I’m both Izuru.” He slowly got up from his shoulder, and Komaeda found himself missing the warmth and the comfort. Hinata turned to face him, covering his green eye. The red alone was enough to send shivers down Komaeda’s spine, and remind him that it was cold outside. The rain’s soft mist that gently managed to carry itself into the shelter was enough of a reminder. “I’m also Hinata Hajime.” He covered the red eye and the green reminded him of the rolling hills that lead to home. “Izuru remembers you. I know we never met.”

“So that is why you have the memory that I do not.” Komaeda mused thoughtfully. “I do not think Izuru had much of an opinion of me.”

“He thinks everything’s a bore, yes.” Hinata said, not at all afraid to shame his other side. Komaeda watched as Hinata brought himself close. “But I have an opinion of you. I think you think too lowly of yourself.”

“Hahah. Oh, you are certainly going to hate me then if you decide for some reason I am your chosen one.” Komaeda snorted.

“Not understand you, maybe.” Hinata corrected. “But I don't think you could get me to hate you Komaeda. Not when I’ve massacred a good amount of towns in the name of despair, and had you by my side watching it.”

“And now you wish for me to watch by your side for hope.” Komaeda mused. “Despite that, I myself may not live that long.”

“Or you could.” Hinata shrugged.

“Or I could.” Komaeda agreed after a moment, remembering that he thought of seeing Hinata’s magic, and how it would be ironic if it was the last thing in his sights. It sounded about right. “My luck is a curse, Hinata. It can bring you harm.”

“My magic wouldn’t let me die because of it.” Hinata shook his head. “I know that’s hard to believe, but the truth is the truth. I’m not going to force you though, Komaeda. I know I’m asking a lot of you after just a week or two knowing you. Even if nothing of it comes from it, I like us to remain friends.”

“Friends first.” Komaeda agreed. “If you can handle my luck and all of the ups and the downs that come with it, then we may talk about standing by each other’s side. Closer than that. Though, in my honesty, Hinata, you make it hard for me to be rational and say no.”

“Impulses suck.” Hinata shrugged and Komaeda laughed softly. “Let’s do something in the city that doesn’t require you to get stabbed and talk more. Maybe Mioda would be there and you can hear her sing.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. First, however, the lavender.”

“....Yeah Tsumiki would slaughter me if I forgot.”

Komaeda’s laugh echoed with the rain.

#komahina week 2020 #komahina #nagtio komaeda #Hajime Hinata #danganronpa #sdr2 #fantasy #tw: injury #tw: blood #magic #hopetohope

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komahinasecretexchange · 5 years

Text

Title: Under Moon and Starlight

Author: @aisukofi

For: @sonneka

Ratings/Warnings: T, references to komaeda’s backstory and his general self-depricating tendencies

Prompt: “Island Mode, KomaHina in a romantic (or pretty close to romantic) way”

Author’s Notes: this turned out a lot more dialogue heavy than expected, but i still hope you can enjoy it!

His world, he supposes, has always been small. But at the same time, it’s always been too big. Too many things he could do at the drop of a hat, too many things he had complete control over. And yet, at the same time, he couldn’t do anything, his life itself completely in the hands of someone, something he’d never know.

This contradictory world of his was one he traversed alone. The world swallowed up and shredded everything around him. The second something got close it was swept away, the moment someone made contact they were torn apart, limb from limb. The solution was to simply live without any relationships of any sort and without any possessions, but doesn’t that go against human desire? Was it not human nature to seek out others, to gather objects in order to make oneself comfortable? If he rejects human desire, human nature, can he truly consider himself human? If not, then what was he?

It strikes him inexplicably that his world doesn’t matter here. Perhaps it never mattered in the first place. Perhaps nothing ever mattered, and human nature made him believe things did. Wasn’t it natural to hold some things dear to you, to hold them close to his heart and make them matter? If that was the case, then he supposes he truly is human.

The pale moon - a constant, unwavering thing, near haunting in it’s unyielding presence in every hour - blinks at him from deep blue sky. Stars, too, twinkle and shimmer from the same abyss, bright and blinding unlike the ones he’d see in Tokyo. The closest he’d seen to these were in Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, where the lights and the sounds and the very ground he stood on were different yet the sky was the same, simply less clouded by the glare of modern technology. Here, on Jabberwock Island, it was the same. No light pollution or smog obscured the sky, the only thing coming close being a stray puff of white cloud every now and then.

The wind whispers harsh nothings as it brushes his skin and send shivers down his body. Distantly he hears as the waves of the beach pick up in time, begin crashing down upon the white sand in quicker succession and with more force. The filtered pool water lapping at his ankles makes him ever colder, surface near mirroresque and clear turquoise that looks silver in the moonlight. He can feel the way the skin on his feet has wrinkled up, old and unneeded evolutionary traits kicking into high gear as he submerges his feet for what feels like a long time. It dawns on him that time, too, doesn’t really matter.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been out here. He remembers, vaguely, hearing Usami’s nighttime announcement - ten o’clock exact, never a single second early or late - and preparing himself for the night, wishing each of his fellow students a “Goodnight” and “Have sweet dreams.” He remembers laying in his blush queen sized bed, staring at the wall in abstract boredom for hours as sleep refused to take him (as it often did, ever since he was a child). Remembers getting himself out of the blankets and dressing and leaving his cottage hotel room before finding himself by the pool. It’s there he lays, sprawled out on hard wood and concrete, legs dipped up to the ankle into the chlorine cleaned water. He thinks he’s been here for a while, laying unmoving and thinking about everything and nothing at once.

Wind dies down. Ocean waves calm and go back to gentle rocking, lapping against the beach in gentle beats that match the tempo of his own heart: ba-dum, ba-dum, thump, thump.The sound fills and drowns his ears - or maybe it’s the sound of his own blood bumping? He doesn’t know, nor does he explicitly care in that moment. The stars twinkle. The moon stares. He tries counting the stars for a fleeting moment before giving up after counting two hundred thirty-seven.

The constant anxiety he feels is nonexistent here. The constant desire to be prepared for anything and everything, the desire to be everywhere and nowhere at once has evaporated into the very air. It feels just a bit unnerving to be relaxed after it all, but his limbs are too heavy and his body is too comfortable for him to care or do anything about it.

The wind picks up again, bringing with it the scent of tropical flowers and fruits none of which he can name. It tousles and stirs up his hair, pale white strands tickling the skin of his face and neck. The waves rise once more, his heart keeping up with it’s rhythm: ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum, thump thump thump.

“What are you doing?”

The sounds cuts through the sound of the waves and steals the very breath from his lungs. Tan and hazel and brunette fill his vision, a pale olive green tie dangles limply above his nose. A face full of characteristic tired annoyance, with hints of fondness seeping into the corners of his mouth and in his eyes. Hinata leans over him, covering the moon and taking its place as the midnight sun, white button-up brighter than ever, the pin on the breast pocket glinting in the starlight. Nagito can’t help the small content smile that worms it’s way onto his face. He smiles up at Hinata, too breathless to even consider answering his question.

Hinata stares back, eyes flickering slightly as if searching for something he’ll never find. The two stare at each other for what’s undoubtedly decades before Hinata concedes and straightens up with the breath of a small sigh and the closing of his eyes. Nagito can feel his smile dropping slightly, expecting the other to leave him alone again. Nagito wouldn’t blame him for doing so, couldn’t blame him, as he’d do the same thing when faced with himself.

Hinata flops down beside him on the deck with a huff and takes Nagito by surprise.

He takes a moment to arrange himself. It’s somewhat endearing, Nagito thinks, how Hinata’s face twists with concentration as he leans himself to the side in order to fold his legs up under him until he’s cross-legged, how he wiggles in place in an effort to move his feet to a position where they won’t go numb. After he’s situated he rests an elbow on one of his thighs, propping up a hand and resting his head in it. Hinata stares at him once more, and Nagito finds himself feeling self-conscious. The smile on his face revives with more force regardless. Hinata quirks an eyebrow at him.

“Well? You gonna answer me or what?”

Nagito feels his smile falter once more, but if Hinata notices how often his expression has been shifting he doesn’t mention it. He decides to answer in the same way he always has when he’s asked an uncomfortable question, ever since the first time he was asked “What happened on your return flight from San Cristóbal?” He turns his head to it’s side, his mass of fluffy hair cushioning the weight, and spits the words as carelessly as he can.

“What are you doing?”

Hinata’s eye twitches slightly, his nose scrunches up for a fleeting moment, an emotion Nagito can’t name without thinking flicking across his face. As quick as it’s there its gone as Hinata schools his face back to his neutral, tired expression. “Making sure you’re not doing something weird.”

Nagito blinks - once, twice - before parotting, “‘Doing something weird?’”

Hinata nods. “Yeah, doing something weird. Y’know,” he makes a vague gesture with his free hand. Nagito just stares, because no, he doesn’t know. After a beat of silence that lasts two seconds too long to be anything but awkward, Hinata continues, “I thought you were gonna try to make something in that old kitchen again.”

“I don’t think I want to try cooking for a while,” Nagito says bitterly, face twisting up at the memory. Usami still refused to let him hold sharp objects, and Hanamura still watches him like a hawk whenever he gets near a stove.

Hinata laughs at his reaction, the sound sweet and airy as it reaches Nagito’s ears. Nagito feels himself smiling again. “But really,” Hinata starts, once the laughter in his throat grows quiet, “What are you doing out so late?” There’s concern edged into the brunette’s voice and it leaks likewise into his eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Nagito answers honestly. There’s no point to lying about it. Not when Hinata could see through it anyway. Not when dark purple stains the pale skin underneath his eyes.

“There’s narcotics in the pharmacy,” Hinata points out, “Why not go and get something from there?” Nagito shrugs as his answer, a somewhat awkward motion when you’re laying with your arms spread wide.

“I’m sure they’d help more than just laying out here,” Hinata continues with a roll of his eyes. The other twists his face into a grimace.

“But they taste bad,” he says, drawing out the last word into a whine.

“Now you’re just being stubborn,” the brunette scolds as he reaches out to playfully slap at Nagito’s arm. “I’ll shove them down your throat.” Nagito can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him at Hinata’s threat. “I will! I swear,” Hinata defends, slapping at Nagito’s arm again.

“Of course you will, Hinata-kun,” the white haired boy quips, lasting giggles still left on his tongue. “I’m shaking in my boots due to fear of your might!”

“You’re not even wearing shoes!”

Nagito wiggles his toes beneath the pool’s surface. His feet may have gone numb due to the cold water, but in that moment he’s the warmest he’s been all night. “Actually, I am,” he says, pulling his face into a serious expression. “They’re just invisible, Tanaka-san put a curse on them.”

Hinata’s face blanks and he stares at the other as though he’s seriously considering the possibility. It twitches after a moment before turning exasperated. “Haha,” he laughs dryly. “So you’re a comedian now, huh?” Nagito sticks his tongue out at him playfully, earning him a true laugh from the brunette.

His own laugh rises and joins Hinata’s in a soft crescendo. The noise mixes together in the cool night air as a song that fills his heart and swallows him whole. The moon bathes them in blue-silver light, the stars shine spotlights down upon them, and Nagito wishes the night would never end.

Their song dies in time, but it isn’t until Hinata’s wiping tears out of his eyes that silence envelopes them. Nagito watches him from the corner of his eye. Watches as Hinata’s breath returns to him, as he stretches his arms out in front of him until his fingertips brush the surface of the pool’s water. He pulls them back after a moment, rests his elbows on his knees and lets his hands hang in the triangle formed by his crossed legs. Hinata gazes at the sky now, eyes flickering in every direction as he looks from one star to the next.

The only word Nagito can think of to describe the sight is “beautiful.”

Hinata is beautiful. The soft shape of his face, slightly sharp at the edges where lingering baby fat are just trimming off, is beautiful. His eyes, serene as they gaze above, hazel and positively glowing in the moonshine, is beautiful. His hair, short and soft and the shade of freshly made milk chocolate - it’s beautiful. Every inch of him is beautiful, Nagito thinks, from the tips of his toes to that onry piece of hair that refused to settle with the rest.

Oh, he must have been staring, because Hinata looks at him with that embarrassed look of his, a light blush rising and dusting his face. When Nagito flashes him a bright smile, the blush grows darker and he turns his eyes away awkwardly, pulling on his shirt collar like he’s burning up. How cute. It takes a moment for Nagito to realize that Hinata’s speaking.

“Why are you looking at me like that,” he mumbles, looking everywhere except at the white haired boy.

“You’re beautiful,” Nagito answers without thinking. Isn’t it important to let people know what you think of them?

Hinata’s reaction seems to say otherwise. He freezes, his entire body tensing and going rigid, his face flushing. He looks mortified, as if Nagito had just told that bombs all over the island were going to explode by sunrise.

Of course he said something he shouldn’t have. Of course he fucked up again. Because that’s all he does and that’s all he’ll ever do.

Nagito pushes himself up on his elbows, apologies already on the tip of his tongue, because he needs to rectify the situation, needs everything to be alright. “I apologize if I made you uncomfort-“

“You can’t just say something like that so suddenly,” Hinata cuts him off with a yell, far too loud for the situation, embarrassment sitting high on his cheeks. Was the flush from before not from fear then? “Besides,” he continues, voice dropping into a low mumble that Nagito would surely have missed if he wasn’t paying such close attention, his eyes scrunching closed like he can’t stand to look Nagito in the eyes, “You’re the beautiful one here.”

Nagito can feel the heat rising to his face, can feel the way his pale skin grows pink at the sudden compliment. When was the last time someone said such a thing to him? Had anyone ever? Hinata probably doesn’t mean it anyway. He’s just saying it to deflect the attention off of him. Surely. “Ah…” he trails off, let’s his nervous laughter enter the air, “Hinata-kun is really too kind.”

“Please don’t start with that shit,” Hinata groans with frustration evident in his voice, the embarrassment that was just there slowly leaving him, “I’m not saying it to just be nice. I really… think that.” He rushes his sentence at the end, still avoiding Nagito’s eyes. Which is a good thing, Nagito thinks, because he can’t see the tears forming in his own eyes this way.

It’s overwhelming, really. It’s truly overwhelming to be on this side of a compliment. To be complimented by Hinata Hajime- it’s almost too much. He’s undeserving of it, unworthy to even be in his presence.

“Okay,” Hinata says, awkwardness and nerves apparent in his voice as he draws out the word, “You’re crying now, what did I do?” Nagito’s quick to swipe at his eyes with his jacket sleeves, because Hinata really shouldn’t have to deal with his own inability to take simple praise.

“Ahah… It’s just-” Nagito tries to give him a reassuring smile as he wipes once more at his cheek- “no one has ever complimented me before. It really took me off guard!” He raises the tone of his voice to one that’s lighter, tacks a bout of breathy laughter at the end. It’s a joke, really, everything to do with him is a joke.

Instead of putting Hinata’s concerns to rest, his words seem to only elevate them as a pitying look fills his eyes. “No one? Ever?” When Nagito nods, albeit a bit confusedly, Hinata’s face twists into a deep frown. He’s getting upset? At what? It’s only natural that someone like himself wouldn’t get praise of any kind. So why is Hinata upset?

“I’ll uh. I’ll say it whenever you want then,” he offers, obviously still too awkward to say the words with confidence.

“Say what?”

“I’ll- I’ll call you pretty. Or beautiful. Or whatever. Whenever you want.” He’s blushing again, and pulling at his shirt collar, eyes darting every direction except towards Nagito. Nagito can feel the blush on his face again, self-doubt invading his mind. Could he really accept such an offer? Could he really allow himself to be so selfish?

“You know what? I’m going to do it anyway,” Hinata’s voice interrupts his thoughts, stern and forcibly confident. “Because I know you’re just going to tell me no.”

“Hinata-kun doesn’t have to do anything that he doesn’t want to do,” Nagito says instead of a full-out protest, because a traitorous part of him yearns to hear the words leave the brunette’s mouth again.

“Yeah? Well, I’m going to do it. Because I want to,” Hinata objects, still refusing to look at the other - Nagito really wishes he would, he wants those eyes on him. “And I don’t care what you say,” he tacks onto the end like it somehow makes it look like he doesn’t care. He fails miserably.

“Hm…” Nagito hums, already able to feel the teasing words rising in his throat, “Mioda-chan was right. Hinata-kun really is a tsundere.”

“What!?” comes the brunette’s yell, his hand slapping against the pool deck. “I am not! You’re just-” he’s sputtering now, how cute - “just an asshole!” After a beat of silence, “A pretty asshole!”

The compliment makes him flush, though he laughs at the other’s words regardless. Hinata was fun to tease. Easy to tease, too, his reactions always over the top after he realizes what’s happening. It’s adorable, really.

Hinata pushes himself up from where he was sitting with a huff. “Whatever! I’m going back to bed!” he announces loudly as he turns back towards the rows of cottages nearby.

“‘Back to bed’? You were sleeping in your clothes?” Nagito hadn’t given it much thought earlier, but considering it was the middle of the night, it is odd for Hinata to be dressed in his regular outfit of button-up and tie and jeans.

“Maybe I like wearing this to bed!” the brunette counters before shoving an accusing finger in Nagito’s direction. “You’re also wearing your normal clothes, so you can’t say anything!”

“But I didn’t wear them to bed,” Nagito’s points out with a small tilt of his head. Are they arguing about this now? Was this something worth arguing over?

Hinata makes a small noise of frustration, his face still a bright crimson. “Still!” He turns again and this time actually starts stomping away. “You go to bed too! It’s too late at night for you to be awake and doing something crazy!” He calls from over his shoulder as he turns the corner towards his cottage. Nagito hums, neither a promise to do so nor a refusal, and pulls his feet from the water and places them on the pool’s edge. They’re cold, the air making them even more so, and he can barely feel them enough to be able to feel their movements when he wiggles his toes. He’ll probably have to wait a bit before he can walk.

Accepting that fact with an subconscious nod, Nagito turns his head up to the stars again. Without Hinata’s presence, they seem somewhat duller than before, as if the very idea of Hinata Hajime makes the world shine. The moon, too, seems distant and forlorn - a haunting figure watching from out of reach. Everything feels calm, quiet, a perfect image of serenity.

A perfect island vacation with the one you love.

“Oi!”

Nagito feels his neck pop as he snaps to attention. His eyes flick over to the back deck of Hinata’s cottage, where the brunette himself is leaning against the railings. The pink slip of paper in his hand flaps around as he waves it in the air.

“Hang out with me tomorrow!”

Nagito lets himself blink blankly before allowing his head to tilt to the side. “You want to hang out?” With someone like him? The hand holding the pink ticket falters at his words.

“Um, yeah,” Hinata says, his words unsure and hesitant, “I’d like to. If you want to.” He’s looking away again, like he’s embarrassed. A soft smile fills Nagito’s face at the sight.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Hinata-kun.”

Hinata’s face erupts into a furious blush as his body tenses up. The ticket crinkles as his grip tightens against the smooth paper. “Don’t call it that!” he protests, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence.

“Huh? Is it not a date?” Nagito questions, wiggling his toes and growing satisfied as the feeling is returning to them. He takes a moment to look for his shoes before shoving his bare feet inside.

“You don’t have to call it that! We’re just hanging out!” He’s right, technically, but Nagito can’t figure out why it’s such a big deal. Isn’t it easier to just call it a date?

“So it is a date.” It’s meant to be a question, but it comes out more like a simple statement of fact.

Hinata seems to go through a lapse of internal conflict, emotions appearing and disappearing only to appear again and flicking across his face in rapid succession. After a moment of lapsing silence, he faces settled on a look of exasperation. “Fine. It’s a date. In the broadest definition of the word.”

A simple hum of response leaves Nagito’s lips as he makes his way past Hinata’s patio. Throwing up a hand in a half-wave and flashing a small smile, he calls out “I can’t wait for our date, Hinata-kun.” And just like that, he leaves and disappears into his own cottage.

He thinks, if his luck allows it, he’d enjoy letting Hinata into his world. In the end, only time will tell.

Perhaps, after all of this, Nagito will sleep well tonight.

#komahina #komahina secret exchange #fanfiction

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serahne · 7 years

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Komahina 10?

Okay, so I did this prompt already, it’s here if you are interested, but since I did Hinata -> Komaeda, I thought I could write the opposite this time :D Though that’s a lot less ‘sexy time’ and a lot more ‘angsty time’ ~

10 … pinning the other against a wall

I don’t remember if I could see the stars before, thinks Hinata, lying on the rooftop of the Future Foundation’s building. It’s nighttime, and he picked up the habit to come here from time to time, to enjoy something else beside the oppressing atmosphere inside the building. Especially one these days where it’s just nice to remember that there is an outside.

Something to fight for.

He is starting to feel a little cold : it’s only spring, and he is wearing short sleeves. He sits up, heavy and tired, his body begging for a little more time away from any kind of supervision, whether it’s surveillance cameras or Munakata breathing behind his neck, and…

“Hinata ? What are you doing there ?”

He turns his head toward the door to see Komaeda emerge from behind the door leading to the stairwell, all pale and gangly, blinking a couple of times, as if being outside, even after sunset, is too bright for his eyes, now. The boy looks up, smiling at the sky.

“Oh ! I see ! Do you feel poetic up there, Hinata ? Maybe it’s one of your talent, too ? Beauty in the middle of apocalypse ?” His tone is teasing enough that Hinata can’t deny it without looking like a fool, but not light enough that it doesn’t burn Hinata’s skin.

It’s been ten seconds since Komaeda appeared, and suddenly the peace he had found just vanished. He gets up, the cold of the night starting to bite his skin where it isn’t covered. Seeing that, Komaeda’s eyes widen.

“No, Hinata, don’t go because of me. I was just curious to see the door open, since no one is allowed here usually… I’m not staying I promise you can…” He starts babbling, already rushing toward the door.

“It’s fine” Hinata replies with a shrug. “Do what you want, I’m cold, I wanted to go back to my room any… Komaeda ? What are you doing ?”

The white-haired boy is frozen in front of the open door, his head tilted toward the stairs. Curious, Hinata moves closer, until he is able to feel Komaeda’s body heat - it’s nice, especially since he realizes that he is really cold. For a few seconds he stays still, wondering what game Komaeda is playing, and then, he hears them.

Footsteps.

Shit.

They aren’t supposed to be here.

Komaeda moves first and moves fast, and in one second he has Hinata pinned against the door, face pressed against the metallic surface, and the other boy is killing him.

“What the hell are you doing ?” He manages to groan.

“We need to convince him that the door is locked” Komaeda whispers back to him. “Help me to keep it still, will you Hinata ?”

He nods, putting all his weight and all his strength in this task, hoping that whoever is coming isn’t Sakakura because they wouldn’t stand a chance, and they keep pushing and pushing and pushing until they are both sweaty and breathless, and Komaeda suddenly crumbles in a shaky mess.

It’s been a few minutes, now, so Hinata should know that whoever was behind the door probably isn’t here anymore, but he still expects them to get busted at the second where he stops pushing. He kneels on Komaeda’s side, who is catching his breath.

“Hey” He says “Are you okay ?”

Komaeda nods, but Hinata isn’t sure how much he believes him, considering that the other boy’s face seems ready to explode, and he can hear his frenetic heartbeat. In some… twisted way, it reminds Hinata of the Despair Disease.

Not like he is going to talk about it now.

“And uh… thanks” he adds, quickly. “It was quick thinking. I’m not sure how close we were to get caught but… I guess I was lucky you were here ?” He smiles, running a nervous hand through his hand.

Komaeda lets out a broken laugh - he looks hysterical.

“Lucky ? Haha, Hinata, come on. Without me, no one would have come to check on the roof. Don’t you understand by now how my luck works ? I shouldn’t have pried…” He shudders. “All I could do was to make my best to not have you pay for my mistakes.”

Komaeda’s arms are still shaking from the effort he just pulled. His whole body is so light and fragile, Hinata thinks he could break it in two with his fingers, sometimes.

It doesn’t make him happy.

They are both fucked up, and that’s not even enough for them to understand the other. He sighs.

“Lie down” he says. “You look like you are about to have a heart attack or something. Maybe you can be the poetic one this time, and write me a poem if you want me to forgive you for this imaginary fault ? ”

Komaeda replies with a smile, small and uncertain, but more honest than usual, and just like that, the burn from when he arrived on the roof disappear into thin air. His shaking gets a little less violent, and even if he doesn’t lie down, he still accepts to lean his head against Hinata’s shoulder, and even if feeling Komaeda’s breath against his neck, and the spasms that shake his entire body is a little embarrassing, he isn’t cold anymore. And he can still look at the stars and pretends like nothing is happening.

That doesn’t have to be as hard as they make it to be, really.

Semi NSFW meme

#komahina #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #sdr2 #dr #my fanfictions #this is the last prompt for this meme #just in case someone would be interested 8)#though I have the halloween prompts to tackle on now

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sunshinetrappedinourhearts · 8 years

Text

Ocean waves Ch. 2: Grey void -Komahina

I decided to turn the series I was planning into a short multi-chaptered fic. :) This is the 2nd chapter - it will have 3 or maybe 4 chapters in total! You’ll need to read the first chapter in order to understand this: you can find it here

Title: Grey void (Ocean waves chapter 2) Fandom: Danganronpa Pairing: Hajime/Nagito Word count: 2907 AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10104953/chapters/22799453 AO3 link first chapter: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10104953/chapters/22507142 Summary (full story): “Nagito wanted to do many things at that point – he wanted to embrace him, to push him away, to kiss him, to strangle him, to touch his face and to yell at him. But he couldn’t do all of those things, and he felt his expression forcing into a smile, when he realized there was an opening in Hajime’s words. Through which he could escape.” In which two different worldviews are starting to conflict in Nagito’s mind, and he wants to hold on as much as he wants to let go. Hajime doesn’t make it much easier.

The very last thing Nagito remembered before waking up, heart beating loud and face beaded with perspiration, were strong, familiar hands slipping through his fingers and falling forever, far from where he could reach. Immediately he forced himself in a sitting position and his eyes travelled through his cottage room nervously, searching for something he couldn’t find nor define. Uneasiness sticking to him like a second skin, he looked at his hands absently – they were trembling. He was scared. When was the last time he had been scared? Flashes of broken memories raced through his mind – airplanes, screaming people, blood everywhere, his own tears – and they were gone again, after forcing himself to blink them away. The feeling lingered, however, and again his gaze was drawn towards his own hands. Too weak to hold onto the one that had been falling from his dream. Too weak to let go of him. Shivering, Nagito stepped out of his bed, his feet touching the wooden floor that lightly creaked under his weight. He tiptoed towards the window, as if the ground would collapse beneath him if he’d make too much noise. It was horrible – he almost couldn’t remember the time when he had felt this uneasy, this awful. He had long gotten used to fearful things, fear was merely something that made him feel numb and empty.

Outside, the stars were visible in the fine night sky, just like that time when Hajime told him those words he couldn’t accept, leading to the actions he wanted to forget. He wished they would vanish just like the stars when the sun rose - but it was simply impossible. Just like those small lightbulbs in the sky, the memories would show themselves again as soon as night fell. It had been 10 days now, and for 10 nights already he had been unable to sleep well.

Sighing, Nagito closed the curtains – he had once again forgotten to do that before he went to sleep. Maybe it would be a good idea to take a short walk before going back to lying in bed sleeplessly. What would ordinary people call it – clearing their head? It made Nagito laugh scornfully. Of course, he had always believed he was a lowly being, far below the ultimate talents, but he knew perfectly well that he was a little different from ordinary people as well, due to his absurd relationship with luck. Nagito was not someone who needed to ‘clear his head’, simply because he had learned to live with his thoughts. But now they were strange, and he couldn’t understand them. That’s why he opened the door and slipped outside to clear his head.

The air smelled fresh and Nagito welcomed it by inhaling deeply. When he opened his eyes, he could see the other cottages lined up around him – there was nobody outside, of course not, for it was nighttime and most people did not wander during the night. He felt his gaze being drawn towards a certain place – where he knew a certain person would be, curled up in his bed, fast asleep. Nagito did not want to think of the deepness in his eyes, the sound of his voice, both the coldness and warmth of the words he had spoken to him on that evening. He did not want to think of his smell – a soft mix between the masculine deodorant he used and that one, comforting, typical scent that Nagito once described as home… Sweet, yet fresh, warm, yet cool. Nagito did not want to think of his hands – rough yet gentle, caressing his face, stroking his messy hair, tracing his jaw line towards the nape of his neck… Frustrated, he let out a quiet growl, trying to force the memories out by quickly pounding away, far from the cottages. The thoughts chased after him however, and he increased his pace, his vision blurry with fragments of imaginations. He had no idea where he was running. The air around him brushed past him with cool blows against his heated skin. The sensation seemed to calm him down and soon, he had outrun the memories. Just in time. Because he tripped and collapsed. As the world tumbled and turned around him, he laughed because he didn’t really know how to cry. Somehow, he wanted to crash into the ground violently, so he would actually feel something different than those absurd sensations running through his body. But of course, he didn’t. He was the – former – ultimate lucky student after all. So he only felt the sand tickling his skin softly as he collided with the earth. Apparently his feet had carried him all the way to the beach. That damn beach. Where it had all happened.

Hajime hadn’t spoken a word to him ever since, acting like nothing had ever happened and even worse. He probably deserved it, and normally, he would feel good about getting something he deserved. Yet… he was feeling awful. He was a mess. And it was Hajime’s fault. Absently, Nagito rolled over so he was lying on his back, hands covering his eyes. There was nothing in this world he wanted to see – only darkness. I want to stay with you because I fell in love with you…Ah, there they were. The words. Without expression, but heavy with meaning. Nagito remembered the way his voice had been trembling slightly, but was still clear, determined, but soft. The expressionless look on his face, but still the depths in his eyes that were shaking. Nagito was intrigued by Hajime, so of course he was good at observing him. That’s the reason why he could see all those things. He knew perfectly well that Hajime wasn’t lying. And he wasn’t the type to lie about something like this anyway.

But Nagito didn’t deserve his love. Didn’t want it. Couldn’t accept it. He was worthless, filthy, stupid, hateful, disgusting. He couldn’t accept Hajime devoting himself to him, touching him so softly like he was something precious that needed to be protected. He wasn’t precious. He was disgusting and needed to be hurt and thrown away. No love. Please no love…

Hands touching his face, tracing invisible lines on his cheeks softly with strong yet gentle fingers, caressing and stroking, traveling slowly towards his neck… where he was sensitive apparently because it made him shiver and want to cry and…He was disgusting. Hajime slowly moving closer, and closer, until he was so close Nagito could feel his breath, that was both making him nervous and comfortable at the same time. His beautiful, beautiful eyes, filled with something Nagito was too scared of to comprehend. Still moving closer… Until their breaths became one and the same. The memories were vivid and colorful, making Nagito’s body sensitive and hungry to relive them more than ever – He was absolutely disgusting.He only realized he was crying when the tears reached his lips and he could taste salt. He was pathetic.Hajime’s eyes were drowning him in his memories when his hands traveled downwards to touch the hem of his pants. As he closed his eyes he recalled the scent of his closeness… the scent he wanted to call home more than anything in the world. His fingers reached underneath, touching the obvious bulb in his boxers softly with his thumb, shooting sensations through his whole body in the process and – NO. NO NO NO NO he couldn’t!

Flashes again. Terrible flashes. Of despair, of death, of a woman he despised more than anything. Of the world tumbling and falling, turning to ashes and dust. By his own hands. He didn’t deserve anything, he needed to atone and to think about these memories day and night, to swim in his own miseries. He couldn’t let go of them.

A burning pain simmered through the skin of his lower abdomen, and it got stronger and stronger as if eating his flesh away. It shook him awake from the trance-like state with a scream he could only later identify as his own.

When the dark spots dancing in front of his vision vanished into nothingness, he watched his hands in horror. They were covered with blood stains, and so was the skin just above the hem of his pants. Angry scratches covered his skin and Nagito could do nothing but submit to the tendency to let his head fall into his hands. A familiar sensation was bubbling in his stomach and he shuddered violently. For a while, there was nothing, until finally, maniac laughter filled the air.

He could feel nails digging into his cheeks that had once been caressed so softly by the man he desired more than anything – and it was wonderful. If nobody would hurt him like he deserved, he would do it himself. For he couldn’t receive love. Love meant being close. Being close meant losing that certain person to the luck cycle he was cursed with. He couldn’t be selfish. It had been a huge mistake to get this attached to Hajime. And well, if he really cared so much for him, the disgusting garbage that he was, then he needed to stop himself right now. So Nagito laughed as he put more pressure in his fingertips, cried as he could finally feel blood dripping down, mingling with the tears in an ugly, filthy mess. He could only hope – hold onto that one thing that he was obsessed with – that this would be enough to stop him, to stop that part of himself that wanted so desperately to be selfish.

But bad luck – or good luck? Nagito couldn’t understand anymore at that point, everything was a grey mess – chose to be on his side today. Two strong, but notably small hands closed around his writs, and forcefully pulled them away from his face.

When he looked up to face the unavoidable confrontation that was waiting for him, he met golden eyes burning with angry flames. Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu squeezed his wrists forcefully – apparently he wasn’t about to let go of him anytime soon. Then he spoke. And Nagito braced himself because he expected shouting, but Fuyuhiko’s voice was surprisingly calm.

‘I have no idea what the fuck you’re doing, but it’s pointless and disgusting. I can’t stand to watch. Stop it.’

Nagito laughed, because his luck was just both so terrible and so amazing and he couldn’t identify anymore when the good was happening and when the bad. They just mixed and created this big grey void Nagito couldn’t understand. But yes, disgusting, he was definitely disgusting. Good. Very good. Fuyuhiko pulled his arms and it hurt a little.

‘Stop it,’ he hissed. ‘You’re coming with me and you’re not leaving until I got you patched up. You look terrible. And you’re gonna tell me what happened in return whether you like it or not.’

Okay, that was bad. Yet he deserved this, maybe? Which meant it was good? He didn’t know and it made Nagito laugh some more, but no sound would come from his lips. He was tired and everything burned – he just wanted to sleep and never wake up.

Fuyuhiko dragged him all the way back to the cottages, and didn’t let go of him until opening the door to his own and pushing Nagito down to sit on his bed. Through it all happening, there was nothing. Nothing he could feel, nothing he could think of, he felt numb.

‘Don’t move,’ Fuyuhiko ordered before disappearing in the bathroom.

Nagito didn’t move. His face hurt, his stomach did, too. Absently he raised his hands – they were still covered with red stains and Nagito felt a little nauseous. There was no way to explain this to Fuyuhiko… would he need to tell him everything? Wait – since when did he even start caring about things like these? Didn’t he always just, do whatever and didn’t really care about what people thought of him? He could easily just lie to Fuyuhiko, right? And it wouldn’t matter even when he obviously didn’t believe him? Or he could just tell him the truth and not care about his judgment either. An exhausted sigh escaped his lips before Nagito could stop it, and he rubbed his temples absently.

Fuyuhiko returned with a first aid kit under his arm, and a wet towel he threw towards him. It landed perfectly on Nagito’s lap and he stared at it for a while, blinking.

‘Just get most of the blood off yourself,’ Fuyuhiko said while fumbling with opening the kit. ‘I’m gonna disinfect it and put some bandages on you.’

‘There’s no need-’ Nagito started. His voice sounded creaked, and his throat hurt.

‘Shut up,’ Fuyuhiko cut him off. ‘There’s a lot of need. Hurry up. You’re a man right? If you’re stupid enough to hurt yourself then face the consequences.’

Somehow, that made Nagito smile a little. He picked up the towel and started dabbing and wiping the bloodstains. It wasn’t that bad, but it still hurt. Well, it had definitely distracted his feelings, but it was just plain stupid. It didn’t solve any of his problems. Hajime was still there, his words had still happened, and Nagito still had to deal with it somehow.

‘Okay, that’s enough. Let me disinfect it now,’ Fuyuhiko said.

‘You know a lot about treating wounds,’ Nagito commented. ‘That’s surprising, I thought yakuza – hnghhh!’

His sentence was cut off by the stinging of alcohol mixing in his wounds and he had to bite his lower lip in order not to cry out.

‘Being top yakuza doesn’t mean we have people running around to treat our wounds all the time,’ Fuyuhiko said. ‘You got to take care of yourself or you won’t make it in the world. Well then, you owe me an explanation.’

Nagito chuckled a little, but it turned into a hiss when Fuyuhiko started disinfecting the scratches on his face. When the other boy was done, Nagito felt his shoulders relax and he let out a sigh.

‘I guess I do owe you one. But you probably won’t believe me.’ From the corners of his eyes, he watched Fuyuhiko carefully for a reaction, but there was nothing. He just kept messing through the first aid kit, trying to find the right bandages. Nagito closed his eyes for a little while, and immediately he imagined Hajime’s face – the smooth, masculine features, the deepness in his one red and green eyes…

‘Ten days ago,’ Nagito said. ‘Hinata-kun told me he fell in love with me.’

Something clattered into the ground and Nagito turned to find out Fuyuhiko had dropped the scissors he was trying to cut the bandages with. The blonde boy blinked, then let out a cough and picked up the scissors again.

‘He… confessed to you?’

‘I guess he did,’ Nagito said. ‘But I can’t accept it.’ He could already feel the small flame igniting within him, growing and growing until it would finally burst. ‘I’m unworthy of his love and nothing good will come from me being around him. But he wouldn’t accept such an answer. He is stupid and stubborn and obviously doesn’t understand what he is saying.’

There were more words he wanted to say, but they were stopped by an intense pain colliding with his jaw. Nagito almost fell due to the impact and had to stabilize himself as he grabbed his jaw and met Fuyuhiko’s angry gaze. The boy lowered his fist, but never broke eye contact.

‘That is not for you to decide. You are running away like a coward. You gotta face his confession like a man. If you don’t, you’re better off dying somewhere in a ditch.’

Nagito laughed. ‘I’m better off dying in a ditch, anyways.’

He was grabbed by his collar then, those golden eyes burning into his own. ‘You’re making things way too complicated with your idiotic thinking. Be honest with yourself,’ Fuyuhiko growled, and then he let go of him and started applying bandages.

His words echoed in Nagito’s mind. Honest? But, he didn’t know. Nagito knew perfectly well that he was weak garbage and that’s why he wanted to grab Hajime’s love and stain him with his horrible luck cycle. But, the truth was that he needed to be strong and push Hajime away before he could be put in danger. Right?

‘You gotta use your head. And your heart. Both of them. And then act upon it,’ Fuyuhiko said. ‘But don’t you look down on Hinata. Don’t forget who he is.’ He applied the last small bandage and then put out his fist towards Nagito.

‘We’re even now. Make sure to follow my advice. And don’t do something stupid like that again.’

Nagito understood and softly pushed his own fist against Fuyuhiko’s. When he looked up to meet his gaze, Fuyuhiko was grinning a little bit.Nagito’s head was spinning. Everything was still grey, but his mind was getting a little less hazy.

‘Thank you,’ Nagito said and he got up. He was craving sleep more than anything.

‘I’ve never heard you say that before,’ Fuyuhiko said.

Nagito shrugged and waved him goodbye with an awkward smile. When he was outside, he watched the stars for a short while before returning to his own cottage. They were big and beautiful, shining like guiding lights in the endless dark sky. They never failed to calm him down. Only he just forgot to look at them properly sometimes.

#komahina #hinakoma #danganronpa #sdr2 #hajime x nagito #nagito x hajime #hinata x komaeda #komaeda x hinata #fanfiction #my stuff #komaeda nagito #hinata hajime #super danganronpa 2

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