Either way, because I'd already gone so far with that hypothesis, I also couldn't help but think…
What if Nagito had been that lucky?
The initial lore from my first draft of this story was that this book Komaeda had not returned for ages was conveniently going to be used to shut an inconvenient conversation down and allow Komaeda to escape, in a very hijinks sort of way. Back then, the interludes really had no direction, and I was continuously improvising the tone, the relationship, and even the reader character, but I personally thought that the lore behind there being this one book that Komaeda had not returned for ages, probably because it got done in by his luck, was kind of funny. And like anything in this story, if it's funny, it's most likely canon lore.
However, that one-time gag didn't make it to the second draft. I made major changes to the interludes, and it's not that they now only have the most plot heavy meaningful conversations in the world, but these types of small gags didn't really make it in much because there were now more overarching scenes rather than montages of small events. Now that I had to actually think about the lore, I had to ask all the sucky questions that make up its logistics: how come Komaeda was able to return the book? What kind of book was it? How could Komaeda have been just pretending he never read it for so long? Eventually, I figured it wasn't that feasible, and also, it fit very poorly into its own chapter because it hinges on an inside joke that doesn't even exist anymore.
It also has issues related to Komaeda's agency in here. This is a concept where effectively Komaeda has all the action, while Mitsui is just watching the aftermath. Whatever epic author-finding journey that happened, Mitsui will never know, so then the audience won't, either. How do I depict that in an interesting way? That's why it took so long to churn this out to begin with. I was feeling like the concept was outdated and the execution would be lackluster. Sure, it might be interesting that Komaeda was lucky enough to get a new book that was identical, and maybe it could be fun if Mitsui figured it out, but for most of that run Mitsui would just be thinking about that book, right? Where's the fun there?
Eventually, while writing completely different chapters, I'd do banter that tried to include this book-related inside joke, thinking it could maybe work out if I had it referenced in other chapters, but eventually thought they would fit nicely in the actual chapter. I started connecting multiple attempts and pieces together until I finally had a working structure, so it took a while as a result. It was frustrating me, too! How was it so hard to write a chapter about Komaeda returning a book!! My wife eventually encouraged me like that it sounded like a normal cute fluff kind of chapter and hmm I can't be the judge as to whether it reads like one but it helped me be encouraged to actually finish it and here we have it! I feel like in the end, to make it have meaning, I centered it around the concept of Mitsui being more considerate of Komaeda's luck, developing off of a phase where she didn't believe in it.
I'd considered concepts from this story before, but they never made it to the main story because this premise had always been related in some way to Mitsui's grandmother in my mind, and honestly anything that has Mitsui's grandmother in some kind of relevance will usually not be a main thing. Like I said, this is meant to be more like a non-character, so I have the general intention of keeping her on the down low. However, to make a book that really would have like practically no copies, I figured something that was quite literally not published and just some thing done between friends would be the best bet since you'd basically need to find the friend to get another book if it even exists. The rarer it is, the more it seems to invite luck in the laws of Danganronpa, so I wanted a book that would make sense for that event to happen rather than a random one where he could just buy a new book at the store. This had formed the idea that Komaeda would have actually met the author and gotten the new book. However, if Mitsui had just received the book like nothing happened, then effectively... Nothing would happen, so I thought it would be interesting if Komaeda being lucky would in fact contrast with someone having been unlucky, so he gets the correct version, where the author has to scramble to fake the fake. So, he has a perfect yet imperfect version of that book, the chance to return the book without returning the book and be saved from the trouble that could occur for himself, for Mitsui with her grandmother, etc... It would be remarkable good fortune, so I advanced like that.
To be fair, it wasn't completely solidified from the start. First, the author was gonna just be really obscure and with a pen name and whatever, but then I figured that it could be something more personal so as to make it more rare. Otherwise, the actual mystery novel that I had to sort of come up with suffered some changes, too. I just wanted a mystery novel plot to guide the conversation, because if I don't have anything in mind, I can't adequately imagine what kind of conversation the two would have. At first I'd just made up something about some Ikashigahara mansion but I wasn't coming up with the kanji or the vibes for it anyway so I yeeted it and made way for this cool new manor with the cool new traps I suppose. Don't ask me about the logistics or I'll cry--
The idea was that if there was some kind of strong gimmick, then probably both would think it's cool. So I made up a sort of cool-sounding gimmick that would justify Mitsui wanting to hand it to Komaeda, and then this being at the center of the storyline. As in, the fact that she basically shoved the book onto him. There are implications for both characters here, but I wanted it to have this timeline of a Mitsui before the clock tower and a Mitsui after the clock tower, and how that would affect her actions and perception of Komaeda. So, it was about Komaeda and his luck, but also about Mitsui's perspective and the way she becomes more considerate of Komaeda. She ends up pulling some mad deductions by the end, but while this would've been unthinkable for a Mitsui from my early first draft, at this point I almost feel like if you picked it up and read her doing it you'd just think it's the regular Mitsui Tuesday so I let it happen hahaha
What serves as a central concept for Mitsui is the idea that debatable things are very subject, and that formal debate isn't about the truth. So, Mitsui is generally a character who sees the matter in stances, and this affects how she takes the truth that Komaeda had maybe given her a different book from her copy. Mitsui had blamed herself from the beginning, when she realized she had brushed off his beliefs, but there's this sort of discrepancy between her and Komaeda when it comes to gauging the situation, and Mitsui never got to apologize... It also kind of works off of hopefully contextualizing the third interlude more, but it's just a piece in the wider lore between the two characters. I yapped a lot about Komaeda's thoughts or his potential thoughts in the author's notes in ao3, but the truth is I wasn't even revealing the full exact deck, and made sure that a few parts were ambiguous throughout.
I had some hesitation about the premise that I didn't use to have in my early first draft because it's about Komaeda technically deceiving Mitsui. I think this can be the topic of controversy: would the blorbo ever do you dirty like this? Personally, from the way he does the same to Hajime while investigating Byakuya's murder, the way he manipulates Teruteru, the way he lies to the girls to bring them to the airport, how he doesn't expose his thoughts in Chapter 4, how he also deceives everyone in Chapter 5... I think he probably would, if the situation aligned. I ran a few simulations in my head about it. Usually, I do character writing sort of by muscle memory, where I have a bunch of lines and scenes in my head, but the thoughts about how it connects and etc aren't active but more like subconscious. However, when the going gets tough, I tend to try to simulate different scenarios beforehand to try to come up with the one most satisfactory to me.
I centered the simulation around the idea of what if Komaeda had destroyed the book by accident? I cut off the scenario where he would just show up empty-handed and apologize, because I had this gut feeling that he would probably find that insolent or like at least try to compensate somehow as in what value would an apology from a loser like him have? So I thought that he would want to at least apologize and do something in return before assuming he would be hated and go away, but then I thought that if luck could confer him the chance to fix the whole thing, then likely he would take it. A lot of Komaeda's biggest moments are derived by the chance luck gives him, whether it's Chapter 1, Chapter 5 and even Island Mode where the idea that the whole experience was bad luck gave him the courage to take the initiative to ask Hajime to be his friend, so luck was as if a buffer for Komaeda to take a step forward, and in that sense, I thought that if Komaeda had the opportunity, that he would take it and see it positively. However, I didn't think his conscience would be completely clear, because I felt like it didn't seem to be for example in Chapters 1 and 5, though the basis would take forever so you can refer to this and this good luck with these monstrous words.
I wondered if he would admit that he got a replacement, but then I figured that it wouldn't fix everything the way that luck gave him the chance to mimic the book entirely. Rather, would it have a point to meet the author if not to be able to mimic the book? There are a few layers, of which the one I yapped about on ao3 was about how it was for Mitsui's sake, and and underlying one where honestly I don't feel like the reasoning has to be coherent when it comes to Komaeda, as in, that at least I have a contradictory element at play where sure, Komaeda would be ready to distance himself and for Mitsui to hate him... But would he want that to happen? Would he act in such a way as for that to happen? Being hated seemed to be Komaeda's biggest fear in Island Mode, towards a Hajime that he believed was worthy of respect. So, that was the result of my simulation, but I'd love different takes. I think I could have missed something and well if I did you can trust that suddenly the chapter you once knew will be looking different and uncanny, just like the book Komaeda gave to Mitsui...
Anyway that is probably it for the yapping in my brain? If I have more I'll also probably reblog or make it into its own post. Thank youuuuuuu for your time once again and I'll be!! Continuing to work on and showcase lore......
synopsis: nagito and reader sneak into the school pool (life is strange style)—fluff ensues.
an excerpt from my nagito fic on ao3. like usual
Swim class is mandatory, and it seems to somehow, despite all odds, take more out of you every single time.
You were still soggy when emerging from the shower room, with muggy steam still clinging flush to your damp skin. There was a scowl on your face you were not completely aware was there, but glaringly obvious to everyone you passed. Drying off seemed to always be the worst part, because no matter how hard you tried, you always came out more like a soggy mess than a freshly cleaned and dried.
At the very least, your saving grace in these unfortunate circumstances was that swim class was your last class of the day, and you were free to arrive home and completely rid yourself of the perpetual uncomfortability it always seemed to curse you with. Not the nicest scenario, but miles better than having to sit through class still soggy and irritated.
You couldn’t even bother to properly fix your tie and slovenly thrown-on blouse when you dressed yourself and begrudgingly dragged your body to your locker.
“Swim must have been a blast, I presume?” Nagito teased, appearing from behind you while you slammed around miscellaneous items in your locker.
“Hah.” You deadpanned back with a tut, snatching up some papers before shoving them into your bag and slinging it around your shoulder. “I gotta grab some shit from the band room. Join me?”
Nagito laughed, seemingly at your grumpy presentation. He was adjusting his tie when he nodded, giving you a usually sweet smile. It almost manages to cure you of your bad mood, but the feeling of wet hair clinging to your neck quickly swipes this audacious idea away.
You huff to yourself, taking a moment to swat some wet hair out of your face before beginning to stomp down the hallway and up the stairs.
Nagito was talking half to you, half to himself about another classic he had begun reading, his usual earnestness spilling into every detail you could manage to find in such a book. The most detailed, obscure compliments of its writing style. From your hours spent listening to him now, you have picked up a particular liking of his for bleak imagery and dark surrealism. A bit edgy, sure, but it fits him well.
“You know, I don’t even hate swimming. It’s just the way they make it the worst part of the goddamn day,” you grumble out, sliding the band room door open and trudging over to the desk to sort through some music sheets you are to learn.
Nagito laughs. “I don’t mind swimming either. Actually, it’s quite fun. Although I haven’t been since I was young.”
You collect some papers, flipping through the pages of music notes, humming what you can make out of them to yourself before promptly returning them to your bag. When you turn around, Nagito seems to be thinking carefully to himself.
“Really? It’s been that long?” You inquire.
Hasn’t been swimming since he was a child? It seems like the only thing Nagito really does is read.
“My mother used to take me when I was young. Well, we would travel a lot, and in some countries a beach day seems like a given.” Nagito smiles, eyes trailing off to the side in thought. There’s a tinge of wistfulness braided into his usual modesty.
The thought of a small Nagito, happy for a beach day with his mother, tears you up with a strange sense of what has been lost, and things you hope to show him again. That the happiness from his childhood he recalls does not have to be reduced to nothing but a fleeting recollection. It can exist now, with you.
“Let’s go sneak into the pool.”
Nagito paused, eyebrows perking up in intrigue and lips parting ever so slightly. He sort of laughs, like it’s a joke at first, but your serious expression wipes the awkward smile off his face just as quickly as it turns up.
“Really? You aren’t worried about getting in trouble?” Nagito asks, a tone quieter than before. Although it seems more instinctual than on purpose.
You give him an eager nod and a convincing smile. It’s sort of cute, actually… Seeing him so suddenly concerned about getting in trouble. You can’t say you have ever cared much about that since coming to this school. Even despite your nerves, it’s hard to care when you can’t seem to convince yourself you belong here.
“I took so long in the showers, almost everyone is home. Plus, Asahina watches the pools and she’s totally chill about people swimming.”
Nagito mulls over your words for quite a while, eyebrows screwing even closer together with every possibility he considers. Detention, deduction of grades, bad reputation, hell, even suspension. He looks lost in thought with a finger rested against his chin and a gaze stuck on the floor.
You inch in closer to him, peering over to perk his eyes back up to you. You make sure to smile real sweet, as best you can to entice him to the best of your ability.
“C’mon… You trust me, don’t you?”
Nagito stutters over himself, tucking it closely beside another taken-aback laugh.
“I mean… Sure?”
You grin, zipping a hand over to grab at his arm and pull him into the hallway. You are determined to distract him from grades and schoolwork now, even if it means breaking a couple rules.
The pool room is incredibly still when it’s without a bustling classroom, and Asahina’s booming voice echoing through the tiled room. “Keep them legs movin’ folks!”
It is almost entirely silent except for the faint echo of water rippling against itself. It sloshes against the tile every now and then, and every time it does, Nagito perks up and looks around the room.
He looks incredibly meek standing there in only his swim trunks. And just as you presumed, he looks incredibly frail. The gaunt bones of his ribcage poke out every now and then, when he contorts his body just right. You try not to stare too long, but he’s too alluring not to look. Nagito’s pallid, willowy body seems more like a fae to you, and he seems to inadvertently carry the same grace.
With steps that are more like a little skip now, you make your way to the edge, watching waves slosh against the edges of the pool, and poking a toe into them to feel out the temperature. It feels nice, better than the blanket of humidity that coats everything outside.
Without lights on, and only the outside sun to illuminate it, it looks the slightest bit different. Rays of evening light pour in from the grand windows along the walls, casting beautiful glimmers of blinding light against the perfect blue of chlorinated water. And for the first time, the pool looks incredibly enticing.
You give yourself a quick breath to ease the nerves that clatter through your chest. As much as you are excited, doing something so risky still comes with its natural anxiety. Letting the worries melt into the furthest pit of your being, you take one last careful breath for good measure, and let your body collapse into the pool.
For a split second, it’s freezing cold. So cold, it miraculously freezes any anxiety you had right out of your being. Your eyes are screwed shut, and with limbs gliding themselves back to the surface, you break to air with a giddy “Woo!~”
By the time you make it up to the surface and are treading water to face him, he has made it to the edge. He’s smiling amusingly at you, who is now with soaking wet hair and a stupid smile on your face.
“How is it?” Nagito asks.
“Come find out.”
You drift over to the edge, closer to him. He peers down to follow your eyes, a smile still on his face, but softer. He seems like he’s debating if he should ease into the water, or jump right in as you did. You are keen on making sure this apprehension won’t last any longer.
“Making me swim alone would be incredibly unfair,” you say softly, a teasing smile on your face while you look up at him.
There are water droplets hanging off your eyelashes, and you are trying to blink them away, but they only seem to cloud your sight more. Even through your bleary-eyed vision, you can see Nagito’s figure peering down at you. As if you are a mermaid he has found washed to the seashore.
“Ah… You are right about that, I must admit that much.” he says softly, and caught between the reverberation of it against the tile, and the way he looks more like a blurry figure of pale, sylphlike limbs. To put simply: an angel.
“Are you scared?” You whisper up to him, letting the reverberation of your voice make its way up to his ears.
You blink away the water and brush some slick hair out of the way. The water is nice now, no longer cold and now pleasant to bob around in. One hand is clutching the edge of the pool, while the other comes out to reach up towards Nagito.
He hesitates for a moment, looking from you to the rest of the pool full of a billion little waves. They splish and splash against each other more now, with your figure kicking about.
“Uh, I don’t know.” His eyes drift away reluctantly, and telling by his face, there’s something incredibly heavy weighing on him. “It’s just that— my luck… I don’t want it to backfire.”
It’s true Nagito is always conscious of his luck ruining an otherwise good day. It makes him very reluctant to enjoy good moments; instead, the worry of something going wrong is constantly running in the back of his mind. Nagito draws in so close, close enough to love, before he drifts off again. Does loving you mean letting go? He doesn’t think he could forgive himself if something bad ever happened to you because of his own burden.
You mull over the chances, subsequent consequences, and unluck. Drowning, slipping and falling, with Nagito’s luck, even electrocution.
These are things that are supposed to scare you away from the idea. Something to make you accept defeat, but it simply does not. To you, leaving the pool means letting Nagito drift away even further. You refuse to allow this, and instead take the chance in the honest belief you can prove him wrong. That you can safely coexist with him. The only thing he will have to worry about is delayed trains and forgetting his lunch at home.
“Komaeda,” you mumble, finding the strength to look him in the eye. Your voice is as sweet as you can manage. “I understand the risk, but I want you to trust in my decision.”
With the way your eyes peer up at him, wide and so certain, it’s no shock at all that every wall he has ever built up to protect himself falters there. Nagito can only seem to blink at you, ever so slightly slack-jawed, with an expression on his face you can only describe as wonderstruck.
Whatever lies beyond this day is moments away, and even despite his warnings, the contingency of the future doesn’t scare you at all.
Finally, he eases up, and takes your hand. You shoot him one last smile, thanking him for his trust, even if he will promptly regret it.
Without another moment to spare, you pull Nagito’s weight right into the pool with you. In a second he comes colliding down under the water alongside you, and for a moment, the both of you are nothing but weightless beings wading around at the bottom of the pool together.
Still hand in hand, the two of you float up to the surface. The laugh that echoes throughout the pool room when you break the surface is nothing short of elated. For a moment, you are almost worried Nagito will be upset with how you pulled him in. That he will scold you for how careless you are around the dangers of his luck; but when you turn to him, eyes still bleary with water, the sight of a smile on his face reassures you with ease.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” You whisper to him. Treading water, hand still in hand, you are barely far from him at all. A voice higher than a whisper would be unnecessary.
You glance down to the water, seeing a distorted view of your hands clasped together. The waves ripple against each other, with little windows of reflective iridescence framing the sight in place. The uncertain fate of misfortune still looms over the both of you, but it only makes you feel even closer to him. Like you could reach your hand right through his chest and have fingertips grace the most intimate parts of his being.
“Yes, it’s nice.”
His usually perfectly messy hair is now drenched, and it’s surprisingly long. Pieces of his wavy fringe now are weighed down and sodden, just enough to slightly obscure his green eyes. Nagito looks especially pretty with his hair long like this, cascading down to his shoulders, resting against the gaunt of his bony collarbones.
“Your hair…” You mumble, still in awe and bringing a hand to gently run through the edges. “I had no idea it could get this long.”
Nagito bashfully laughs, moving some wet hair out from in front of his eyes. “I’m sure I look like an ugly, wet cat.”
You are too mesmerized to even take his comment as anything but absolutely ridiculous to even imply. You nod, pushing your eyebrows together concernedly.
“No! Not at all.” You insist, dotingly moving some face-framing pieces perfectly into place. “You look crazy beautiful.”
Your eyes are still glittering with reverie. So much so, you barely can pay much mind to the way your comment makes Nagito a bit shy. The smallest bit of pink dusts his cheeks as he bashfully laughs it off, shaking his head just a bit.
“Your praise is much too high for someone like me, but frankly, it always charms me…”
You wonder if he would feel the same if he saw himself through your eyes. Wading through the water like a mermaid. Rays of light glittering against the waves join to make his white hair glow. His green eyes look so bright, like crystals. The way he blushes just enough to look like some sort of baroque painting. If you could freeze this moment in time and remember every detail, you are sure you would revisit it every day until you are no longer.
All you can find the will to do is smile to yourself and softly shake your head. Strangely, it seems to work. Nagito seems to decide on putting his own personal insecurities aside. Only so he can respect your own feelings, something that he holds so high. Higher than he has ever thought of himself and his own ability.
If putting his own endless supplies of worries aside means enjoying a moment with you, being able to satisfy you with something as small as his willingness, it seems like more than a fair sacrifice. One that he will fight against himself and his hesitation to make, over and over again.
There’s a strange sense of hope that seems to find itself in every scenario. It hides in lockers, shared notes, the quiet in the courtyard garden; and now it seems to glimmer against the reflection of waves.
nagito komeada x reader // nagi as ur sweet boyfren!! oneshot. nagitos caught the despair disease(but he can tell the truth)! no killing game, setting is home
"lovely!" he chirped as he padded down the hall, turning on his heel to your bedroom where you lied on your stomach atop your comforter, scrolling on your ipod lazily. you peeked up at him, a smile quirking onto your lips as you observe him pad closer
"yes?" you grinned as he crawled into bed next to you, turning on your side as he nuzzles into you.
"whats up?" you mumbled curiously as he nuzzled you close, ducking his head onto your chest as he breathes you in.
"you smell sweet, my love.." he breathed against your skin, muffled by the fabric he spoke over. he shifted closer, hugging you tighter as he breathes you in more. he was needy this afternoon, when wasnt he? he wasnt just needy, he was.. burning up. when he peeked up at you, he grinned, shifting impossibly closer.
"youre burning up, love.?" you murmured curiously, your hand leaving the ipod to press your palm against his forehead. he was like a furnace. "youve probably got a fever." you mumbled, slight concern etching into your features as you examined him.
"lovely, you noticed! you fill me with hope every second you notice the tiny things nobody ever noticed about me before and the hope is so outrageously overwhelming! i just love you so much " He ranted gleefully as you examine him before suddenly catching your gaze. "love, if you'd dare want to help a worthless piece of garbage like me.. i do have a few ideas." he offered slowly with a knowing smile.
you stared at him, mainly wondering how he can be so self-deprecating with such a big smile on his face. even though you were 99% sure he was just going to try and pull a fast one (quickie) on you, you wished to be enlightened. "hm? tell me then, go on." you replied as he grinned wider.
"im delighted you'd help me.." he started, nuzzling closer until he was ontop of you, the ipod forgotten as he lied draped atop of you, his hands wandering aimlessly over your curves as he inhales more of your scent. "i cant stand being apart from you.. i just adore you.." he confessed in a soft huff, his breath hot against your chest. his heat rolling off of him in waves. carefully, he began inching his fingers up your shirt, bunching it up to your waist as he sits up, straddling your thighs as he looks down at you. "the first thing id need is something sweet.. tasty and nutritious." he announced cheerfully, moving between your legs.
you stared over at him, processing his words before scowling. "ugh, nagito, youre actually feverish and im really trying to figure out whats wrong" you grumbled, but it was half heartedly. you couldnt help but feel sympathetically inclined not to feel anger toward him. well, not too much of it at least.
he shifted, making no note of your protests as he hikes up your thighs on his shoulders. "i might be useless, my love, but i am not a liar." he guaranteed with quiet persistence as he intently positioned you. spreading you the slighted bit wider as he grips your hips firmly. "even as im garbage and dont deserve your care, id like to get better too.. im looking forward to your delicacies." he whispered, his hand inching up and down your thigh over your pants causing your breath to hitch sharply. he reaches down, his fingers skimming over your waistband. the pads of his fingertips catching your lower stomach before softly mapping out the skin there with his palm. his other hand tracing your inner thighs. his gaze tracked your expression, and shamelessly the way your throat and chest moved at every breath.
"delicacies?" you echoed, rolling your eyes skeptically. "youll get me sick too!" you grumbled as the fingers teasing your pants waistband looped inside, tugging them down just enough that the pretty sea blue of your panties were shown, , you shuddered softly.
finally, he peeked up at you, his gaze drawn dark and heavy lidded as he watches you squirm, "you contradict yourself." he noted, a knowing smile crossing his features. "if you wish for my wellbeing.. this is the answer. i'll be so quick, my love. ill be so good." he promised softly, ducking his head to kiss at the bare skin of your stomach now that most of the barriers were away.
you groaned in irritation, peering down at him lavish your free skin with his wet kisses before ultimately caving. "if it really makes you feel better.." you started, huffing a breath that was more like a sigh. "get it over with." you conceded reluctantly, your hand sliding from resting on the sheets to gently tangle into Nagitos hair, anchoring him to your skin.
His response was instantaneous; and visceral. He was like a puppy who got rewarded a treat! "yes.. thank you, mommy.. ill be so, so good." he promised in a whisper against your skin as he shifted lower, the fingers that had been hitching your waistband lower yanked them away with a final tug, tossing the pants somewhere on the floor, leaving your sea blue triangle (🔻) panties which showcased your lower body remarkably beautifully. "so pretty.." he breathed, awestruck no matter how many times he'd seen you like this. he kissed along the waistband, his tongue tracing over the edge of the fabric where it met skin, the wet trail granting goosebumps in its wake.
your fingers tightened in his hair as he continued to tease you, thinking he was going to lick under the panties just for him not to. when he nipped and sucked the first few sets of hickeys into your skin you couldnt help the soft, breathy groan of arousal that spilled from your lips. "haah.. hhnn.." you breathed, impatiently beginning to guide his head lower. "teasing me.. isnt very good of you.." you spat, teeth barred as he finally acknowledged your gorgeous wet cunt through your panties. "go on.. make mommy happy.." you ordered, biting down at your lip.
he relished in your need. you all greedy, wanting him to fasten his pace. you were never one for foreplay. "yes ma'am.." he conceded, biting at the lace of your undergarment and swiftly pulling it down. he hikes you up higher, spreading you just enough before burying his face in your folds, his nose bumping against your clit as his tongue darts out to taste you. "mmm.. nnh, youre so good.. taste s'good.." he murmured, the friction of his lips moving against your sensitive flesh was deafening with pleasure.
"fuck.." you breathed sharply, panting softly as he begins to lick and suck at your folds, his tongue flicking into your cunt, swirling around the sensitive, fluttery insides of you. "nn.. n-nagito.. dont stop.. hnnghh.." you moaned softly, your head thrown back against the pillows as he eats you out. when he sucked harder at your core you couldnt help the jolt of sheer arousal that ran through you. "mmmfff.. aa-ahh.." you bit down at your lip, peeking over at him once more and catching his heated dark gaze as he looks up at you. the suction, the heat of his tongue, the friction.. the pleasure coiled deep inside of you, waiting to boil and spill over.
"mommy, does it feel good..? tell me im doing good... youre perfect.." he mumbled against your folds, sucking down and suctioning your core harshly before moving to your clit, mouthing over it before licking at it, nudging the bud with his tongue.
it was all too much, your head snapping back against the sheets as more pleasure washes over you. "nnhh!.. ah.. so g-good! mmnngh.." you whined, moaned and squirmed from pleasure overload. you felt the first quiver of your thighs after he sucked at your clit just right, your breathy moans filling the room as your climax is on the brink of hitting. "hahh... im-im gonna cum.. nnhghh.." you announced breathlessly, your tone wavering from the pleasure he inflicted upon your lower half, your legs trembling where they were planted on his shoulders as you spill all over his lips. he greedily licked it all up, his mouth glistening with you as he sits up. his throat working visibly as he swallows, spiking more heat to pool into your gut even as you were healing from your sudden climax.
"i feel better already." he remarked almost smugly as he knowingly looks over at you.
Wait, aren't you going to feed me? Nagito Komaeda/GN Reader (2/?)
(Reader has they/them pronouns but is implied afab because of events in the story)
I finished the game! We can now talk about it!
Ao3 link!
Chapter 1
Summary:
You're not sure what you're doing here. Your life seems to be ruled by that nowadays, "not sure," ever since you got trapped on this godforsaken island: you aren't sure why you've been trapped here, you aren't sure who you can trust, you aren't sure if you're ever going to get out of this stupid fucking eyesore of a "funhouse" or if you're going to starve to death first. …You aren't sure which fate is worse.
But currently, the thing you're most unsure about is why the fuck you came here, to Strawberry Hall in the middle of the night all alone. It's not making you feel better, in fact it's pretty steadily making you feel worse- that is until Nagito happens to wander into the room and distracts you from your own misery.
OR
a series of important moments in your relationship with Nagito
(originally a short fic written to reconcile my feelings on Nagitos abrupt personality shift during the first trial, now a longer thing bc i got nagito on the brain. YES the game got me. I was buying his bs before by the KILO.)
8'306 words!
Cw: mature themes, sex jokes, (not cruel) gaslighting, reader gets embarrassed a bunch,
also you can either chose to believe that reader is staying in grape hall because theyre lumped in with the women or because like hajime they were overflow and had to stay there bc strawberry house was full. or we can just pretend they werent gender segregated at all. also reader is staying in the crummy room bc i said so. :)
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You're not sure what you're doing here. Your life seems to be ruled by that nowadays, "not sure," ever since you got trapped on this godforsaken island: you aren't sure why you've been trapped here, you aren't sure who you can trust, you aren't sure if you're ever going to get out of this stupid fucking eyesore of a "funhouse" or if you're going to starve to death first. …You aren't sure which fate is worse.
But currently, the thing you're most unsure about is why the fuck you came here, to Strawberry Hall in the middle of the night all alone. You know what you were thinking when you left your room- a combination of the fact that your crummy little bedroom over in Grape Hall was starting to make you feel claustrophobic, the fact that being trapped in a house that's just one big garish LED is painful on the eyes, and the fact that that the lights on the wall of Strawberry Hall kind of reminds you of a the night sky. If the night was pink and only visible in front of you and not above. That, and you really just couldn't look at anymore fucking green.
But all of those reasons fall flat and lost their persuasiveness when you walk into Strawberry Hall and lay down on the floor to pretend the twinkling of the berry red walls are stars. Unfortunately, the longer you look at them, the already not very night-sky like walls look less and less like the night sky the longer you look at them, and because the lights are on the walls and not the ceiling your gaze keeps getting drawn upwards, to the dark shadow that exists where a roof should be but isn't.
It's disconcerting, and truly unfortunate because the gaping black hole of a ceiling above you is quickly becoming more and more all-consuming the longer you stare into its depths and you just can't seem to tear your gaze away. It seems to stretch on forever and ever, somehow seemingly getting bigger the longer you stare, swallowing more and more light as it leaks out of the walls and almost mocking you with its ever-expanding, never actually moving darkness.
Any remnants of a positive attitude you might have been able to salvage get quickly subsummed by the whispering voice in the back of your mind claiming that this is all your future is now: a big black hole that sucks in all light and leaves you uncertain if there's ever going to be a way out. So really, you don't know why the fuck you came here because it's only serving to make you feel worse.
But still you can't help but focus on the feeling of despair curling up and clogging your chest. Tears prick at your eyes and slide sideways down your cheeks, dripping onto the floor with a gentle patter that you barely notice because of how fixated you are on how terrible everything is. You sniffle, mentally cursing that you didn't have the foresight to bring tissues or even a shirt with sleeves that you could wipe your nose on.
'It's not like you to be wandering around at night on your own, have you finally changed your mind about killing someone? That's wonderful.' Nagito's voice cuts smoothly through the blistering melancholy of your thoughts and you startle, flinching at the sudden intrusion on your private moment. You were not expecting to see anyone else in this room at this hour, it's two in the god damn morning for fuck's sake.
To add insult to injury, Nagito continues talking, saying, 'I'd have preferred if you'd filled me in on the plan beforehand but I suppose I can overlook it and help you out anyway. Have you picked who you're going to kill yet? I'm presuming it isn't me otherwise you would have told me first so I could help.'
Sniffing quickly, you sit up. Angling your body and your face away from Nagito, you wipe your eyes and paw at your face ineffectively with the backs of your hands to try and hide the fact that you were crying from him. You don't want to hear whatever smartass reply that's going to come out his mouth if he sees. You curse under your breath as your hands slide off your face smoothly, the wetness from your mouth and nose just diluting along your arms rather than disappearing like you want it to. Why oh why didn't you wear a shirt with sleeves?
'Hey, are you okay? Were you crying? Did something happen?' Busted. Of course he noticed. A hand touches your back and you flinch, curling futher into yourself to try and hide your face from him.
'No.' You say convincingly.
'Wow. Maybe you shouldn't kill anyone. I hate to say it but you'd get caught for sure, even with my help. You're bad at lying.' Nagito says, voice far too chipper for the words coming out of his mouth.
'Fuck off,' you tell him. You're not in the mood to be made fun of. Nagito sits down across from you, crossing his legs and leaning back on his hands while surveying you with a placid smile. You shuffle your feet sideways huffily, annoyed by how fake his expression is and not wanting to see him right now.
'What? Don't tell me you're still angry? You laughed at my jokes yesterday!' Nagito says, voice exasperated.
You cut your eyes sideways to glare at him for a second before deliberately turning your head further away from him as you sniff, 'that wasn't a laugh, I had something caught in my throat.'
'Really? That's odd. It sure sounded like a laugh to me.'
You're both simultaneous grateful and incredibly ticked off at Nagito's consistent feigning of an authentically ignorant nature. It's a surefire nightmare in class trials when he never says what he means, only giving hints and causing confusion, but right now you're not going to look a gift horse in the mouth: if Nagito isn't going to call you out directly for laughing at him teasing the others then you're going to continue to pretend it didn't happen. Ever. Not even once. Certainly not multiple times that resulted in you having to leave conversations in order to hide your insuppressible giggles. Nope.
It's so obvious when he's subtly being a dick now that you can't believe you once thought he was genuine. So not only are you apparently bad at lying, you're also stupid- or at least gullible. Not anymore though, unfortunately- no, fortunately, since the wool was ripped from your eyes all those weeks ago you've started to hear Nagito's voice for what it truly is; sarcasm, hidden behind the pretence of being startled into a realisation.
Unfortunately, it turns out you find Nagito's true voice incredibly funny, which makes your whole plan of 'ignore him until he goes away' a total failure because you're too busy snickering at his comments and Hajime's hapless face to feign disinterest. It doesn't help that Nagito has a tendancy to appear out of nowhere and speak before you notice he's there. …It also doesn't help your case that the more you inadvertantly hang around him the more you find yourself wanting to see him. In short, you're screwed. But that doesn't mean you can't pretend not to be.
You flip around to face him, scowling, 'what do you want, Nagito? You here to kill me? You get fed up of waiting for someone to feel "hopeful" enough to try killing in order to escape so instead you're gonna push your stupid fucking agenda on someone? You gonna kill me so the rest of us can "overcome you as an obstacle together with hope in our hearts"?' Your voice is mocking, mean, raising in volume with each word you speak until you're shouting at him, chest heaving as you expell each word with with a rage you didn't know you had.
'Wow, you sure have a scary look on your face, I really thought you were gonna try hit me there, that's a good first step! However, you shouldn't get a boy's hopes up like that, but… if you were thinking about doing something to me, that would be wonderful. I'm totally up for it. I don't mind at all.' Nagito grins at you, a totally cheesy smile that's all teeth and the sight of genuine joy on his face makes your heart stutter in your chest as your thoughts seize and swell before you manage to get them under control by steamrolling over them with:
-He's talking about you killing him. He's talking about you killing him. He's talking about you killing him. NOT SEX. He's talking about you killing him. He's talking about you killing him-
When you fail to say anything Nagito tilts his head to the side, sizing you up with his eyes before he says, 'you don't have to be so cautious you know? I already told you I'm not going to do anything to you. And if you're so worried about being killed, why are you walking around on your own at night? You're staying over in Grape House right? That's a long way to walk for someone who's so worried about being murdered.'
You shrug, looking down at your knees and reaching to fiddle with the edge of one of your socks, 'couldn't sleep. Got fed up of looking at the grapes just looping and looping and looping.'
'So you came all the way to Strawberry Hall? Why not Grape Hall? Why not stay in your room? Unless… did you come all the way over here to see me?'
'No!' You say too quickly, far too quickly, even as the suspicion starts to creep up on you that maybe his words have more truth to them than you'd realised because Grape House is certainly an eyesore, but Strawberry House actually makes your eyes sore. It's something about the specific shade of red interspersed with all those white cut outs, it's far harsher on your eyes than the green and it hurts to look at for too long. But… you could have gone to Grape Hall; it's closer, and you'd certainly have felt safer, so why didn't you?
Nagito's eyes widen, startled, before a laugh creeps out from between his lips, 'I was only joking. There's no way someone like you would come over here just in hopes you'd run into someone like me. Actually, I expected you to be way angrier at my interruption when I saw you in here but I just couldn't help myself, I had to come in and see if you were okay. That's the power that hope has. It overrides everything, even when I know right now you hate me, even my own inner knowing that someonw like me doesn't deserve you.'
That's- … a lot. And it's a lot that you're not equipped to deal with right now, you're already feeling unmoored in your own emotions, you don't have the energy to spare trying to wade through Nagito's and convince him that maybe spending every second of every day thinking he's trash is not conducive to his mental health.
So instead you chose to ignore all of that and answer his previous question, because no matter what your dumb brain is whispering, you did not come here for Nagito. 'I didn't want to stay in my room because I'm in the crummy one, remember? Not all of us are so lucky to win the deluxe room in a random draw. It's cold as shit in there, there's some kind of draft that I can't find the source of; it's like it's coming from all the corners at once but there's no visible gaps. And I didn't want to sit in the lounge, I can't take anymore green, it's hurting my eyes,' you grumble, wrapping your arms around your knees and hugging them to your chest with a shiver because now that you've put voice to it, you can feel the chill in this room as well.
'It is a bit of an eyesore, isn't it? Monokuma sure has bad taste,' Nagito agrees with you, moving the conversation on without so much as a blink and the way he says it is so blasé, so non-accusatory even though your own brain is currently blaring accusations at you that you unfurl a little bit unintentionally.
You take a deep breath, pulling at a loose thread in your sock until it's tight enough to snap right off. You don't really want to confide in Nagito but at the same time you don't think you could withstand the insecurity of everyone else, or deal with them telling you 'we'll get through this', or, 'there has to be a way out without killing someone', without proof, or, worst of all, them saying some variation of, 'I don't know, I feel hopeless too'. You feel far too fragile to withstand that right now.
So you open your mouth and tell Nagito how you're really feeling, words all coming out in one heaving rush, 'I couldn't sleep because I was so cold and I'm so hungry, so I left my room. And I know we've been trapped this whole time, that the whole island is just on big trap but at least we could see the sky. This building is so claustrophobic, and the constant repeating of grape upon grape upon grape just looping was driving me insane. I couldn't take it anymore, I can't take it anymore.
'So I came down here, hoping that maybe I could pretend the lights are stars but the whole room is the wrong colour and the stars are on the side so I just ended up staring into the gaping mass of a ceiling and thinking about how that's all my life is now, a gaping mass waiting to be filled with death. I feel like a rat trapped in a cage and I'm just waiting to be killed. Someone is going to kill. There's not- there's no way that we all just wait around until we starve. I just feel so hopeless.'
You look over at Nagito, hoping that somehow he'll make this better but instead of sympathy on his face he just looks confused.
'How could that make you feel hopeless?! If someone kills then that means we'll get out of here!' Nagito states like it's something to be happy about.
'But I don't want anyone to die, Nagito! You're so smart, how can you not get that through your thick head? Why would that make me feel hopeful? I don't want out friends to die! And what if they kill me? I'm not the Ultimate Lucky Student, there's no way I make it to the end of this thing alive.'
'You don't have to worry about that, you're not going to die,' Nagito says, and he sounds so sure, like he already knows that your heart drops.
'…Is it already in motion?' You barely whisper out, looking up at him with fear clutching your heart.
Nagito looks confused for a second before you see him put it together in his mind and then he laughs, amused, and you're about to throw a fit when he says, 'that's not what I meant, no one's taken me up on my offer of help yet. I don't need to kill to serve hope this time, it'll happen with or without my help. It's like you said, someone is going to kill sooner or later. Hunger is an excellent motivation.'
If Nagito isn't planning on killing, or on helping someone get away with killing, then how was he so sure? Like usual, the longer you talk to Nagito, the more confused you get. 'So what? You gonna protect me? Mr. "I will kill or be killed in the name of hope?" You?' You say mockingly, peeved that his blasé attitude extends to this too.
'That's not my point. Why does everyone misunderstand me? You're too worried, you should chill out! You don't need my protection. …Although,' Nagito puts his hand on his chin, finger tapping his lips like he's thinking as he says, 'I suppose if you consider my worthless talent then actually you already have it. Huh. That's a good way to think about it…' Nagito trails off, like he's thinking out loud to himself rather than talking to you, which is incredibly annoying when you know he's already thought this entire thing through and isn't actually thinking out loud at all, just trying to provoke a realisation within you. Especially because you have no idea what realisation he's wanting you to have.
'Nagito, you're speaking in riddles again, spit it out,' you say, annoyed he won't just get to the point.
'I'm the Ultimate Lucky Student, so wouldn't you say it's bad luck that I've ended up in this killing game with all of you?' Nagito says instead of answering any of the questions you have.
'For anyone else? Yes. For you? No. Because you're nutty as a fruitcake and seem to be enjoying yourself watching us all "find hope" and by find hope I mean be terrified witless.'
'You're getting too hung up in the details! Let me put it this way: if you got in a car accident on the way to work, that alone would seem pretty unlucky, right?'
'…Yeah, I guess,' you say, hedging your words because you're wondering where he's going with this.
'There's no guessing about it. But if, while at the hospital, you meet a cute nurse and end up falling in love and spend the rest of your life with that person, then that good luck cancels out the bad. It happened for a reason, the bad luck was all in order to orchestrate the good. Anytime anything unlucky happens to me I know it's in preparation for even better luck that's coming down the line.'
Wow. Wow. Nutty as a fruitcake is an understatement it seems. Everything bad that happens to him is secretly good? That's like saying 'I deserve to be treated like shit if it means in the future I'll be double as happy when I'm treated normally'. Oh. Oh. …Suddenly Nagito's self-deprecating nature is making sense to you.
In order to showcase how ridiculous you find his line of thinking you inject your voice with as much derision as you have and say, 'and you think that applies here? In a killing game? Ran by a bear with a clear and consistent, almost erotic penchant for sadism? How in hell is this gonna "turn into good luck"?'
Nagito stares at you blankly for a moment before shaking his head in a "what can you do?" sort of gesture. 'You really don't get it, do you? I thought the hospital metaphor would have made it obvious.' He sighs, propping his head up on his hand, 'am I really gonna have to spell it out for you? Though I suppose you've not eaten in five days so maybe you're having some trouble connecting the dots.
'The bad luck has already turned into good! I met you! We make true hope, remember? That's why you don't have to worry about dying, it wouldn't be good luck at all for me if you were killed. I didn't understand it at first, why you were interested in someone as trash as me, but while my talent's undeniably worthless, it is still a talent. I'm lucky because I get to experience the love of an Ultimate, even for short while, but I'm even luckier because I'm here to be your stepping stone to hope! You might not agree with it yet but you're going to end up killing me, one way or another.' Nagito looks so earnest when he says this, eyes wide and bright, smiling so sincerely that it makes your stomach turn.
…Somehow, Nagito is somehow coming across as crazier than he ever has, and yet what he's saying is finally making a certain kind of sense to you. Not logically- his argument is riddled with contradictions all because he has such low self esteem that he can't fathom that you're interested- might have been interested in him once upon a time because you found him attractive and charming. But it makes sense in that it makes Nagito start to make sense; his talent is so antithetical to how the world really works that it's warped his sense of reality; that's why he's so unafraid to die- in his mind, everything that happens to him is lucky, so if he ends up dying then it must also be lucky.
That is- …so fucking stupid. The kind of stupid you can't combat without a minimum of a couple hours of preparation because you're so busy thinking about how stupid the argument is to argue against it. So instead of trying to fight him on a hill that he's literally prepared to die on, probably has been prepared to die on for many years to get to this point, you decide to set the record straight on how you feel about him now- because even if he was right earlier and your stupid gullible heart does still like him- evidenced by the fact you can't help but laugh at his constant sly antagonisation of the others even when you don't want to- it doesn't mean your sensible head does.
'What happened to your crappy self esteem? Or is that all an act too? Listen, Nagito, I think you might have misunderstood me, just because I laughed at some of your jokes and brought you breakfast one time when you were tied up doesn't mean I like you, it just means I don't want anyone else to die. I thought the whole avoiding you like the plague business would have gotten that point across already.'
'That's funny, you say you were avoiding me but weren't you the one who looked after me at my lowest? When I'd apparently stopped caring about hope because of the despair disease? In the hospital I mean.' Nagito says slyly, eyes twinkling like he's caught you out but it doesn't matter because you prepared for this. You've had your story straight since before the trial so you already know how you're going to refute his statement.
'That doesn't count, I also had despair disease. You might not remember that much from when you were sick but we went over it at the trial, remember?'
'Oh right, I can't believe I forgot such a vital detail! You had the caring disease, didn't you? The one that makes you care so much you end up putting yourself in danger, right? So you ended up looking after me because at the time you thought I was the least trustworthy. Or at least, that's how it was explained at the trial.'
'Not "at the time", you're still the least trustworthy,' you cut in.
'If you really believed that then you wouldn't have stayed in this room alone with me. You already know I'm not going to hurt you, you've got nothing to worry about!' Nagito's smiling again and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes.
'Nagito, you're a known liar.'
'That's pretty rich coming from you,' he narrows his eyes at you and you sense a trap but you're not sure where- you covered all your tracks and didn't tell a soul, no way he knows.
'Excuse me? When did I lie?' You scoff.
'Let's go back to the topic of your despair disease-'
What? Wait. …Does he know??? No. He couldn't- you didn't tell anyone. He's bluffing. There's no way.
'So, to recap, the despair disease makes people act in ways that are opposite to their true personalities: Akane became a coward, Ibuki became gullible, and apparently I stopped believing in hope, therefore it's safe to say that despair disease makes you do things you normally wouldn't do.'
'Exactly. Things I wouldn't normally do, don't get it twisted and start thinking I actually care about you or something,' you tell him snootily.
'So it would be correct to say your despair disease made you care for me, both saying and doing things that made it seem like you held affection for me?'
'Yep.' You say, popping the 'p' on the word to emphasis how not-necessary you're finding this conversation.
'So how come, at the height of my fever when I couldn't sleep for more than a few hours at a time, I have a distinct memory of you sitting in the chair beside my hospital bed telling me how much you hate me? I was so addled by the fever that I didn't even know you had despair disease, so it made complete sense to me at the time- of course you would hate someone like me, I'm nothing!
'I thought that you were there to kill me and I was overjoyed,' Nagito's arms wrap around himself in mimicry of a loving embrace as he rocks back and forth slightly, eyes wide and blank in a way that gnaws at your heart with worry. No way that expression is healthy, no way.
'I knew in my heart it was right, that I was going to be the stepping stone to your greatness, to your hope! That's why I remember it so well, I thought the time had come for me to serve my purpose. But you didn't kill me, you just refreshed the wet towel on my forehead whenever it got too warm and talked about how angry I made you.'
No. No, no, no, no, no. Nagito should not remember that- Nagito doesn't remember that- he can't. He can't!
'Then when I got out the hospital, everyone was saying you were sick too, and that how terrible it was for you that you hated me so much your sickness took the form of doting, loving care for your supposed enemy. But what I want to know is if you were really sick with despair disease, then how come your symptoms suddenly disappeared way before Ibuki and Hiyoko were killed? It just doesn't make sense, I thought it over from every possible angle and I couldn't figure it out. The only scenario where your actions make sense is that you were lying the whole time! That you weren't sick at all, you were just pretending to be so you had a reason to look after me!'
Nagito looks estatic as he speaks but it's not a good estatic- it's crazed and unhinged, eyes flared wide with tension, grin pulling at his lips until almost all his teeth are bared and you're more scared than you are angry but still you try defend yourself.
'People were already so mad at you! Monokuma said the disease was the motivation this time and I thought maybe he meant that you'd be too sick to defend yourself. I couldn't just leave you defenseless, and- and sick, and suffering all on your own! Mikan had two other patients to look after. Anyone could have crept in your room and finished you off in your sleep! Lord knows you've pissed off enough people! And I was right. I was right to be worried. Mikan killed Ibuki because no one was around to protect her! What if she had picked you? What then?!'
You chest is heaving by the time you're done, rising and falling as you pant from words you didn't know you were keeping inside being expelled with the force of your fear that you've been sitting on ever since Nagito first got sick. You should probably feel embarrassed, caught out now that Nagito's caught you out and bared what you'd rather have kept hidden for you and him to see but instead you just feel lighter. Almost as if keeping this big secret had been weighing you down and you didn't even notice.
You're so caught up in how better you feel now that takes Nagito speaking for you to realise the position you've put yourself in: somehow, inadvertently, during your shouting you unfurled, sliding up onto your knees and advancing on Nagito in your anger; so now you're left leaning over him, kneeling so close to where his legs are crossed that you're practically in his lap, your hands still stretching out towards him from when you'd been gesturing violently to get your point across. A shiver winds its way across your shoulders and down your spine and you don't know if it's from the chilly temperature, the position you've found yourself in, or the look on Nagito's face.
Nagito is leant back slightly, head craned back as he watches at you with an expression that can only be considered wonderment as he breathes, 'amazing. You put yourself in harms way to save a piece of trash like me over everyone else,' while your brain stutters as you mentally take stock of the position you've put yourself in.
Blinking slightly to refocus, you look down at him and try to scoff, 'n-not over everyone else,' but it comes out stuttering and flustered because the image doesn't change; you're really looking down at Nagito while almost sitting in his lap, watching him watch you with an almost religious level of devotion.
Nagito nods, reaching out and taking your hand in his own to interlink your fingers as he says, ' you chose me over Ibuki and Akane. You said it yourself, I was alone and defenseless when I was sick, so it stands to reason that you'd view them the same way. Of course, you can use everyone hating me because I'm a terrible human being as an excuse for why I might plausibly be targeted, but at that time no one knew Mikan was sick, so it was reasonable to expect she would be checking in on me the same as for the others. We were all under an equal level of threat; you picked me over them, even when I was apparently, "making you so angry you didn't know whether to smash my face or to kiss it".
You go from staring at your entertwined fingers in a blank sort of shock, unable to process that this is really happening, to looking at Nagito in blank-er shock. Your mouth opens and closes, moving with no sounds coming out as you feel your face getting redder and redder as you flush with heat. That's- that's not fair, he can't know that! That's illegal- he was sick! Sick! Too sick to remember any stupid and potentially embarrassing thing you said! That's why you felt comfortable saying it in the first place! It's- no. No. It's a fluke. He made a very good guess, that's all.
He doesn't remember anything else, why would he remember that- and that's when it clicks. Your stomach turns and you scramble backwards, yanking your hand out of his grasp desperately to huddle on the floor a couple of meters away with your back turned to him out of embarrassment because of course he remembers: he's the Ultimate Lucky Student. And wouldn't you say it's lucky to remember the person you have a crush on confessing to you while you were supposed to be too sick to remember anything?
'Don't tell me you're embarrassed, I'm honoured that you would want to kiss-slash-hit my face. The only embarrassing thing about that is that you want to kiss someone as trash as me. It just proves that there really is no accounting for taste- not that I'm complaining, I'd take anything you give me, whether that's kissing or hitting. I'm grateful for it all. Are you really not going to turn back around? I never expected someone like you to be so shy!
'I have to say, you have the strangest reactions to things. Next you're gonna act like it's embarrassing that you wondered if Monokuma would still consider it murder if it was a crime of passion- which he definitely would. Motivation doesn't matter, a killing is a killing just in case you were wondering, but then again you were pretending to be sick with despair disease so I'll let that one go. Hey, hey! Don't turn further away from me, we only just established that you're in love with me, and weren't you the one that said I have crappy self esteem? What if I never recover? What will you do then?'
You could not be any more mortified if you tried. Those were private thoughts! Private thoughts that you were venting under extreme duress to a very sick Nagito who Mikan was worried might not make it through the night! And you'd bet with your luck (and his) that Nagito probably remembers every single embarrassing thing you said.
Closing your eyes you tuck your head as low between your raised knees as you can get it, cross your fingers and pray to any god listening that the ground opens up and swallows you whole as soon as possible. There's a faint rustling behind you but you're too busy praying to pay it any attention, what you can't ignore though is the brief pause in cold air on your back before the sudden warmth of something settles securely around your shoulders and over your arms.
Raising your head it's immediately apparent that Nagito has given you his jacket, the one you've quite literally never seen him take off, not even that time you stayed over at his cottage. There's no mistaking it, a glance at your shoulder shows the iconic red box pattern on his jacket clear as day, but more obviously, Nagito is back in your eyeline, sitting across from you in just his t-shirt and jeans and smiling wide, his eyes crinkling shut in joy as he leans back on his hands.
Subconsciously, you raise a hand to your shoulder, almost in disbelief as you look between yourself and Nagito, too busy trying to process this to ask the question but he answers you anyway with, 'you looked cold.'
Weakly, you fumble out, 'oh, okay. Thank you,' one hand clutching the fabric at your shoulder as you stare at Nagito while trying to understand how you ended up here. He's an ass. A problematic asshole that seems to take great joy in getting under everyone's skin- including yours- who you've spent the last five days trying to avoid. And he's the worst kind of problematic asshole because everytime you think you've finally sorted your feelings and no longer want anything to do him he pulls shit like this and you're confused again.
It's not healthy, you know it's not healthy but you can't seem to bring any part of you to care as you look at Nagito smiling so genuinely because you're wearing his jacket and your stupid fucking traitor heart skips a beat. It's really not that different from how he usually looks but still your heart does a stuttering one-two-four at the sight of him.
Maybe it's due to the PG-rated nature of (the non-violent parts of) this school trip that's being enforced by Monomi- such as the fact you can't change in the beachhouse, or maybe listening to Kazuichi wax poetic about how horny "Miss Sonia" makes him day in and day out has finally corroded your brain, or maybe you're just more dirty minded than you'd previously considered yourself to be because it's just his arms- it's just his arms but they're bare and slender and wired with muscle and you've never seen them before.
It feels taboo, wrong, dirty, inappropriate. Like you're watching something you shouldn't be but you can't seem to tear your eyes away. You have to actively swallow the spit that's pooling in your mouth as your eyes track the line of his muscle up and over his shoulder, all the way along the worn fabric of his t-shirt to where it's wrinkling and pooling over his collarbone, showcasing a slightly bigger slice of skin than normal. The material of his shirt is so worn that it clings to slight swell of his chest, thin enough to display everything as your eyes slide down to the faint crease underneath where his chest meets his ribcage and the lean the line of his stomach and-
You're rudely awakened from your musings by the sound of an awkward laugh, only made worse by the addition of Nagito saying, 'we better get you something to eat, huh? You looked like you were considering eating me there. Not that I'd object, I'm happy to do whatever you want to do but cannibalism doesn't really seem like your thing. I really wouldn't want you to do something you might regret.'
You're too embarrassed at being caught out like this that you don't even have a response to Nagito's teasing, instead you maintain a guilty kind of silence that makes it more and more obvious what you were thinking about the longer you don't speak. Luckily for you, you don't have very long to be embarrassed before Nagito's up on his knees and crawling towards you.
You freeze, panicked, and then hold that position for five very awkward seconds, your heart racing double time as Nagito roots around in a pocket that's sewn into the inside of his jacket. You don't spend the entirety of those seconds staring at his mouth and thinking about how close he is to you, and you definitely do not feel disappointed when he pulls away without kissing you. You're confused for maybe ten seconds before your rational brain catches up with your eyes and you see that Nagito has pulled half of what seems to be some sort of shelf stable, nutrient dense food bar out of the inner pocket of his jacket and is now holding it out to you.
'You should eat. It'll help you feel less cold,' Nagito says as you take the food from him without thinking.
You stare at the package in your hands for what feels like forever as your brain tries to process that yes, there really is food in your hands. Food that Nagito has apparently had this whole time. You look up at him, then down at the food bar in your hands, and then back up at him speechlessly before finally you settle on an emotion other than shock. You reach over and punch him not-so-lightly on the arm- not hard enough to actually hurt him, but hard enough to get your point across as you shout, 'you've had food this whole time?!'
Nagito's hands come up in a 'surrender' position almost immediately, face pinching at the brows with an awkward expression as he says, 'I only had the one bar, I was saving that half for emergencies but it seems like you need it more than me. It's not like there was a point in telling the others, it would have just made them hungrier.'
As you stare down at the half a… food bar- it's not immediately apparent what it's made of and the ingredients are all in a foreign language. Your best guess is it's some kind of on-the-go breakfast alternative or a protein bar for exercise enthusiasts- you begin to realise that as much as you hate to admit it, Nagito does have a point.
You can picture it in your head now: people arguing over who gets it; everyone deciding to split it evenly and no one getting more than a mouthful; someone making a selfish argument over why they specifically deserve more; a fight breaking out; or the group reaching an impasse and deciding to leave it until tomorrow, waking up the next day and it's gone and then a fight breaks out. Or, worst of all, someone gets murdered over a fucking breakfast bar- or whatever this thing is.
'Sorry…' You say, glancing up at Nagito, 'you're right, it wouldn't have solved anything, just made things worse.'
'You don't have to apologise to someone as terrible as me! I'm happy to accept any treatment you give me, even if it's as your punching bag.' Nagito smiles so genuinely, so earnestly, expression so completely vacant of any kind of discomfort that immediately you feel terrible; it's like your heart has cracked in two right in your chest. What on earth did Nagito go through that's made him like this? It can't just be the luck thing.
'No, that's not- …Nagito, it's-' You start and stop several times, not sure of what to say or how to fix a wound that Nagito doesn't even seem to notice he has- that, or he doesn't care. Eventually you settle on, 'I shouldn't have hit you, sneaky food hoarder or not, you're a human being and you don't deserve violence. I'm sorry.'
'Wow, you sure sound serious. Would it make you feel better if I accept your apology?' Nagito says like it's not that big a deal, which only makes it clearer to you that it is- or at the very least it should be. But sensing that this might be the best you can get from him at the moment you nod seriously, silently making an even more serious vow to yourself that you won't hit him again, not even as a joke.
'Then I accept your apology and you don't have to feel bad anymore.' Nagito sounds so sanctimoneous when he says it that you have to fight the urge to giggle. You know he's putting on a show for your sake- and it's a funny show- but your comfort doesn't come before his safety.
So you nod seriously and say, 'thanks, Nagito. Uhm, I'm gonna eat this now, and it's probably not gonna be pretty. You might wanna,' you make a little spinny motion with your hand to indicate for him to turn around.
Nagito smiles so wide that his eyes crinkle with it as he says, 'no thanks, I'm good right where I am.'
Fucking asshole. Every time you start to feel bad for him he gives you another reason not to. Shooting Nagito a not-so-serious glare- he did just give you half of the only food he has, so you can't be too mad at him- you scoot round so your back is to him. You try to eat the food slowly, you really do try, but as soon as it touches your tongue every inch of the part of your brain focused on survival that's been screaming at you to eat for days now activates and you practically inhale the bar.
You hear a snicker from too close and turn your head in wide-eyed terror to see Nagito sitting far closer than he was before, watching your every move while laughing openly.
'Wow, you really were hungry, huh? Guess it's a good thing I gave you that then, who knows what you might have eaten if I didn't come to your rescue.'
'Nagito! I turned around for a reason!' You whisper-shout, not wanting to come across as genuinely mad for something so small in comparison to other things (like his penchant for suggesting murder) but still wanting to reprimand him because you did turn around for a reason.
'You've got nothing to be embarrassed about; I actually think you're really cute when you swallow like that. Without chewing, I mean.'
…Is that an inuendo..? …Did he really just-? He did not- oh you are starting to really regret that whole 'not hitting him' vow you just made to yourself. 'You did not just say that to me. Tell me you did not just say that to me!' You practically shout at him.
'Say what? Is there something wrong with what I said?' The face Nagito makes is so inoocent you might have been inclined to believe him if you didn't already know he's a liar.
'Do not play dumb with me! I know how smart you are, I've stood directly across from you in class trials while you herd everyone towards the correct answer and pretend that's not what you're doing! Cute when I swallow? Cute when I swallow? You, Nagito Komaeda, are a pervert! I'm just trying to live my -'
'Hey, hey, a pervert? That's a bit of a logical leap, what did I say that would make me a- ah, I see,' Nagito makes a face like he's just figured it out, 'I get it now. Wow, you really do like to take things the wrong way, don't you? First, you make me a part of your weird voyeuristic sex thing with the sandwich, now you're claiming that I'm thinking of that just because you ate some food in front of me.
'If I'm being really honest, I'm starting to worry about your brain, this is the second time you've accused me of thinking about sex because of food. Are you sure you're not into food and you're just too embarrassed to be honest about it, even with yourself? You shouldn't repress your true nature, you know, it'll leak out in normal activities and that's way worse than just giving into it.
'You don't want to accidentally make others uncomfortable because your way of thinking has gotten warped due to sexual repression. And clearly you're already tipping over that line because no reasonable person would assume that's what I meant, not everything's about sex, y'know? But, if it makes you feel better, I'll rephrase, you looked really cute with your cheeks all puffed up like a hamster and chewing aggressively.'
'I am going to kill you,' you grit out between your teeth, annoyance flaring more the longer he spends on his little monologue.
'Do you promise?' Nagito's voice is light, husky in the way it usually is but also incredibly affected, injected with a kind of euphoria that makes your skin crawl as he leans towards you with an odd expression on his face that you're afraid to categorise. Okay. That's another thing you're making a vow not to do again, largely because no matter how much you don't want to categorise it your brain is stuck on the way his expression is a disturbing cross between vacant and excited and it's freaking you out.
'Uh, no. I don't promise. In fact, I retract. I'm not going to kill you, that can be your punishment because you're far too gung-ho about this for me to be comfortable with it.'
'Aw. You got my hopes up and everything. Well. Come on, let's go.' Nagito climbs to his feet, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. His t-shirt pulls with the movement of his shoulders, exposing a small slice of his midriff and the checkered pattern on the waistband of his boxers as they peek over the line of his jeans. It's only as you watch his hand slide into view to tug it back down that you realise you've been staring. You look up at Nagito's face, knowing you've been caught yet still hoping otherwise even as you see him looking at you while hold back a laugh.
Pouting, you reach up and shuck his jacket back off,, holding it out to return it to him but Nagito doesn't take it. Instead he just looks at you with a confused smile on his face, 'what are you doing?' He asks, like it isn't obvious.
'Uh, returning your coat?' You say.
'Why would you do that?'
'…Because I'm going back to my room?'
'Don't be silly, my room's much better than yours, it's the obvious choice for us to stay in. Plus, I'm not sure we'd both fit on the futon in your room.' Nagito says so casually that for the first second you do feel silly for trying to go back to your room but after another second of thinking about his words you realise he's just trying to trick you again. A sweet trick, but a trick nonetheless.
Trick or not, you really don't want to impose more than you already have what with making him sit with you during the small hours of the morning and eating the only food he had left, so instead of accepting you brandish the jacket at him and say, 'you don't have to do that. It's fine, I'm fine. It'll be easier to stay warm now that I've eaten. …Thank you, for that by the way.'
'Okay. I'll make sure to tell Monokuma that your death was an accident when I next see him then so we don't have to do a class trial when we find your frozen corpse in the morning,' Nagito sounds so cheery, a stark contrast to how dark his words are and it's just the motivation you need to silently put his coat back on and slip your hand into his.
'Oh, did you already change your mind?' He asks like he doesn't already know.
'Nagito, shut up, please and let me lick my wounds in peace.'
'As long as it's not another one of your weird sex things-'
'I swear to God, Nagito! In peace!' You snap. Nagito snickers, and you can't stay mad at him when he's laughing like that so instead you ask him, 'have you been in the Final Dead Room yet?'
When he doesn't reply you say, 'does that mean no? Nagito, if you don't say anything I'm going to assume you mean no. …Really? You haven't? It sounds stupid dangerous and incredibly like a life threatening trap, that's right up your alley, no? You're always doing stuff that would freak anyone else out. Nagito? Nagito, hello? Earth to Nagito- oh my God. Are you ignoring me because I told you to shut up? Really? Really? Nagito, answer me!'
'Oh, am I allowed to speak now?'
…You might actually kill him.
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Chapter 1
lmk what yall think! also please lmk if theres any egregious typos
How different danganronpa boys would react to you burring your face in their chest
Ft: Nagito komaeda and Hajime hinata(sorry if this sucks I haven’t written fanfic in like 2 years) also yall are already dating in these
Hajime Hinata
After a long day shopping at the rocketpunch market with Sonia, you were quite exhausted and decided to head back to your cottage to take a nap. But on the way there you end up in Hajimes cabin laying in his bed, facing away from Hajime.
Hajime looks at the back of your head, silence filling the air.
“Aren’t you cold y/n..?” Hajime asked concerned a bit, it was rather cold that night and you were only covered by the cheap beds blanket (because monokuma is a fucking brokey) he slowly came a little closer to your back not wanting to push limits with you and touch you, without permission hand hovering a bit into your waste but quickly taking it back
“You know I can hold me Hajime.” You said turning around to face him smiling getting closer before you both end up cuddling, the side of your face on his chest lying next to him facing each other as he moves his hand to rub your back gently, blushing a bit silently. You felt so comfortable against his chest you imagine how comfortable it would be for your face to be there and smell his certain smell of sweat and like a bar of soap in a way. Without a second thought you plunge your face into his white collared shirt, smelling him taking in his soft yet firm chest.
“W-what are you doing y/n?!” Hes a blushing mess confused hands up. He looks so embarrassed this poor boy not knowing what to do, almost like that one time with Mikan laying on top of him is what I’m guessing it would be like.
“You smell so good haji” you said still in his chest but still have enough room to slightly look up at him, and for him to makeout smile from your face.
“I-well t-thanks but it’s really nothing special if just soap?” This poor boy is so oblivious to the smell from him from stressing out and hormones alone.he let out calming down resting his hands in your hips pulling you close as you all asleep in each others arms as he kisses your forehead and rests his against yours.
Nagito Komaeda
You were very stressed out about everything that was going on at the island with all the killings, and pent up stress about everything Nagito decided to take you both to the beach to relax and cool off. Sitting on a blue towel he bought from the rocket punch market just for you two, his fingers digging into your shoulders helping you ease your pains and aches in your body relaxing
“There we go much better isn’t it my clover..” Nagito whispers into your ear head on your shoulder as you let out a gentle smile looking over your shoulder at him.
“Rougher..” you say smirking as he goes a bit rougher. You both end up swimming and having a good old time swimming in the ocean the sun starting to set as your cuddled up against him on the towel an arm wrapped around your waist as he smirked at you.
“You know even at times like this, you somehow make it all hopeful..” he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear kissing you on the lips gently as you lay beside him, staring it his chest before something came across your mind. Getting tired you burry your face in his chest feeling the skin to skin contact, he was surprisingly cold. You feel an arm on the back of your waist and another caressing your hair.
“You feel so good against me..” he let out in his pathetic ass voice smiling a bit
“You’re so cold…” you complain groaning it out
“Your the one who wanted to go swimming in that freezing water” he let out with a chuckle kissing your lips
That’s all I didn’t really know how to write it if you want I take requests and if you want any character lmk sorry if this wasn’t that good but yeah
Wait, aren't you going to feed me? Nagito Komaeda/GN Reader (1/?)
(Reader has they/them pronouns but is implied afab because of events in the story)
I finished the game! We can now talk about it!
Ao3 link!
Chapter 2
Summary:
You don't know why you agreed to take breakfast to Nagito when you don't want to see him. Not after everything he did, not after everything that happened. …Not after the trial and how fucked he'd revealed his position to be. Not after Byakuya died saving his ungrateful ass…
You shouldn't have taken the plate from Mahiru in the first place, but she'd practically shoved it in your hands and ran off with an excuse in the same breath. You'd had no idea what you were agreeing to before she was already out of the hotel and running back to her cabin. Everyone else had evacuated seconds after her while you were still piecing what she said together.
OR
a short fic written to reconcile my feelings on Nagitos abrupt personality shift during the first trial. YES the game got me. I was buying his bs before by the KILO.
6'557 words!
CW: (some) (danganronpa typical) cringe humour, awkward situations, sexual situations, mature themes, sexy sandwich eating, (im so sorry), (it was so fun to write
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You've been learning a lot of new things about yourself in the past forty-eight hours, the main thing being the that you're not as good a judge of character as you thought you were, but also, now, that you're not exactly skilled at being stealthy either. All you wanted to do was sneak into the room that Nekomaru and Kazuichi had admitted this morning to leaving Nagito tied up in, leave the food that Mahiru had given you somewhere visible so he wouldn't accidentally starve to death, and then sneak back out before he noticed you.
…Unfortunately for you, it seems that life is out to get you the exact way it has been since you were first transported to this godforsaken island. Almost as soon as you crack open one of the large double doors that bar your entry to the room and attempt to slip through the miniscule gap you've created, taking deliberate care to move as quietly as possible, Nagito calls out to you.
'It's you! You came to see me! And you brought me breakfast, that's so sweet!' His voice is as raspy as it always was- you would have called it husky once upon a time, but you're no longer inclined to give him such favour- with an unsettling quality that it seems to have picked up and kept ever since he dropped his act, like something sinister is lurking in the depths of his tone, ready to jump out and snap you up in one motion as soon as you let your guard down. Some people would call it attractive, you're not that honest kind, not anymore.
He stripped all the kindness from your bones when it became apparent that not only was he the reason any death occurred at all, but that he was deliberately trying to confuse things and help the killer out during the trial. Like he didn't care if you all died, like he didn't care if you died.
It's bizarre how quickyly things have changed here, if Nagito had greeted you like this just one day ago you'd have said he sounded pleased to see you, excited even. Now, you can't help but hear a sarcastic bite to all his words, even when there isn't one. You can't help but think this is all a show, or perhaps he's trying to manipulate you again. …Or maybe he's just happy because you're bringing him a sandwich so he won't become the next body via malicious neglect and starvation- a sandwich that you were forced to bring him, you remind yourself as an uncomfortable thought wiggles forwards to the front of your mind and makes itself known, whispering insideously that clearly you care if he dies.
You don't bother to hide the sinking of your shoulders at the sound of his exuberant voice. You see no point in hiding your recently changed feelings about him, you just wish you had more time to figure out exactly how those feelings have changed. You've been oscillating wildly between hating him, missing him, and wondering if you ever really knew him at all. Your mind has been in a whirlwind ever since the trial last night and you've yet to settle on anything concrete.
You knew you were going to have to face him at some point, you just didn't know it was going to be so soon. You shouldn't have taken the plate from Mahiru in the first place but she had practically shoved it into your hands, voice a fast paced blur that you could barely decipher before she was running out the room.
It was only when you were left staring at her after image in confusion that you put the pieces together and managed finally to understand what she had said: 'can you take this to Nagito, I'm worried the boys won't feed him but I can't look at him right now. You used to be close so it will be fine, right?' And then she'd absconded, leaving you holding a plate and wondering why people were leaving the hotel lobby so rapidly until you figured that out too- they didn't want to be saddled with the task if you decided you couldn't do it either.
You've been left with the metaphorical hot potato and you just weren't fast enough to figure out it could burn you. That's how you got where you are now, standing just inside the double oak doors for the room Nagito's being kept in, the very same room Byakuya was killed in, regretting all the choices in your life that lead you to this moment. Especially the ones to do with Nagito.
Taking a steadying breath, you raise your head to look at him and the sight that greets you is both exactly what you expected and so bizarre that you could never have expected it: Nagito is literally chained up on floor, laying on his side with his arms pulled behind his back and tied together with a heavy metal chain. You don't know where Nekomaru and Kazuichi even got a chain from, let alone one so heavy duty.
Nagito looks way too comfortable for someone trussed up on the floor the way he is, with his arms pinned behind his back like that. His feet are bound together too, over and over with a long length of rope that you didn't notice until now because you were so focused on the chain. He's grinning up at you like nothing has changed, the look on his face so friendly it almost feels smug, like he didn't try kill someone and betray the very beliefs that attracted you to him in the first place.
'I'm so happy you took the time out of your busy day to bring food for little old me. …If I'm being honest I was starting to believe that Nekomaru and Kazuichi were going to leave me to starve in here! …I can't exactly greet you with my full hospitality but feel free to relax, just pretend we're hanging out in my room after dark again, that should put you at ease.'
At his words, your mind suddenly floods with memories from the last time you were in his room; how comfortable you felt around him despite him being kind of awkward, the way his mere presence and ongoing optimism about the situation had reassured you that nothing bad was going to happen. …The look startled on his face before you kissed him, the rough drag of his chapped lips against yours, how soft they were anyway, the way he'd laughed almost disbelievingly when you'd pulled back. …Then later, falling asleep in his arms because he'd made you feel safe- little did you know how much danger you were really in.
You shake your head to clear it, rolling your eyes at his words and stepping further into the room, wholly intent on ignoring his theatrics. This is why you didn't want to see him so soon, it's too raw, you keep getting caught up in what could have been, keep getting trapped in memories that now make your skin crawl. You'd wanted distance so you could stop feeling so damn hurt by Nagito's betrayal- because that's what it was, betrayal- and Mahiru had ruined that- no, Nagito had ruined that, he'd ruined everything. …You are so pissed at him he better not open his stupid, smiling mouth again while you're in the room.
You walk over to him, crouching to slap the plate down on the floor next to his face, feeling a vague sense of satisfaction curl up in your gut at the sight of his barely disguised flinch while you elect to ignore his needling comments in favour of saying, 'shut up and eat,' before standing and turning to walk away.
'Huh? You're not going to feed me?' Nagito's voice cuts in before you manage to even take a single step away from him.
…The fucking gaul of this man. 'What? No way! You tried to kill one of us of course I'm not going to feed you!' You spit, spinning back round to face him, voice outraged and body lightheaded at how quickly the anger rushed you.
'Well, I can't eat it on my own, y'know, since my hands are all tied up…' Nagito lifts- or attempts to lift his hands behind his back, resulting in his whole body tilting forwards to accommodate the movement, putting what looks like an uncomfortable amount of pressure on his left shoulder, and even then his hands only make it a restrained half a foot into the air before they flop back onto the floor uselessly with a dull thud. It's impressive he managed to lift them at all, considering how numb the one he's laying on must be. You frown- you do not feel bad for Nagito. He deserves this. You do not feel bad for Nagito.
Nagito has the decency to look a little abashed at the rage on your face as he continues, '…actually, I was a little embarrassed to ask Mahiru to feed me, so I'm really glad you're the one who came. We're close, right? So I don't need to be embarrassed.' He grins at you cheerily, supposed bashfulness gone in the blink of an eye, disappearing so fast you're left wondering if it was ever really there to begin with- no, you're left certain that it wasn't real to begin with, that it was there but only to be the set up to a sly, teasing jab about how close you are. …So much for him feeling bad at how upset he's made you. So much for you hoping that maybe tucked somewhere deep inside Nagito might have some kind of conscience.
You grit your teeth, anger resurging as this realisation starts to recontextualise so much of Nagito's behaviour before the truth about him came out; how much of what he said to you and to others wasn't at all sincere? How much of it was just a private joke where he got a kick out of making people feel awkward for his own amusement? So much for the socially unaware, upbeat, optimistic man with such a secure outlook on life that he really had you believing that you'd all get through this together and figure out how to get off this god forsaken island without a single fucking death. So much for fucking anything.
'Really? You're glad I came?' You ask sarcastically, shooting him the dirtiest look you can muster, trying to proclaim exactly how far he's sunk in your eyes since the events of last night with a single look.
'Of course I am! We have a special connection! I really thought you'd hate me after the events of last night but you're here visiting me now, you even brought me breakfast! You must not hate me so much after all, or at the very least you pity me enough to help. It's truly inspiring the way you can have hope for even the most despicable of creatures, because you have to believe I could be better, otherwise why would you be here? Together we make the truest hope- we feed off each other!
'It's like when you kissed me! I never thought anyone as interesting as you would be interested in me, it gave me such hope then and you're here now! Inspiring hope in me again while I inspire hope in you. Isn't that wonderful?'
…That is quite possibly the craziest shit you've ever heard in your life. He thinks you think he could be better? That you're hopeful about him? Just because you don't want another person to die? What kind of twisted logic is that???
'Is that supposed to make me feel better?! Nagito, you lied to me! You led me on! You-' You start, voice full of outrage only to be cut off midsentence.
'When did I lead you on? …It's true I might have been a little misleading about the true nature of my personality but my feelings for you are real. I only lied to you because I knew that if you knew the real me you wouldn't be interested. But the version I presented, the me that you fell for those first few weeks, he made you hopeful, right? He made you think we could get out of this together, that we could escape this island as a group even though that was highly improbable.
'Even now, there's still a part of you that hopes he will return right? Even when you know I'm actually trash, you still hope that I can be better. I did it in the service of something greater than ourselves, it's like I told you, we inspired hope in each other- can continue to inspire hope in each other! You gave me such hope, you still do! Do you know how special that is? To give someone as despicable and despairing as me hope?'
'How do you know?! I might have liked the real you! You never even gave me a chance.' You spit at him, voice laden with venom, choosing once again to ignore his insane ramblings about hope when his actions have caused nothing but despair.
'Wait, are you saying that you could have liked me as I am? You truly are special!' Nagito's head tilts back as a truly gleeful cackle escapes his lips before he leans towards you as much as he can while chained up on the floor, smiling all the while, 'you know, if you really meant it, I wouldn't mind if we picked up where we left off in my cottage.'
…You're flabbergasted, how can he think about that at a time like this????? So you tell him, 'how can you think of that at a time like this?! And- it's- no! No! You killed- you tried to kill someone! Who could like that?'
'It's just that feeling you give me! I'm in the most hopeless of situations, someone like me wanting to be with someone like you, and then you tell me it could have been real? It could have been real and now it can't and yet still I have hope! That's the power you ultimates have, that's the power that you give other people! The ability to hope in the most despairing of situ-'
Sensing that he isn't going to shut up about hope any time soon and completely fed up of his manic rambling, you drop to your knees and press your hand over his mouth to make him shut up but Nagito just keeps on talking, the words becoming unintelligible mumbling underneath your hand. The strangest feeling of dejavu washes over you at this; somehow, seeing him still trying to talk, still trying to convince you, still trying to have hope even though the situation should feel hopeless to him, reminds you of the cheery, slightly hapless Nagito that you started falling for in the first place. The one whose endless optimism had given you hope.
Your shoulders slump as all the fight drains out your body and without thinking you find yourself brushing his wild, bushy hair back from his face with your other hand. At such a tender touch Nagito stops talking, eyes going wide for a second before you feel him smile underneath your hand as his face scrunches up with genuine joy.
You remove your hand from over his mouth and immediately he rushes to say, 'see, even now, when by all reason you should hate me, you find it within yourself to treat me kindly. You can't help but hope that I'm better than what I am! This is why you're my favourite, why we work so well together! You always want to see the best in people, and I am the absolute worst of people with no hope for improvement; together we breed hope in each other!'
Nagito's words infuriate you but with how unrepentant he is, you recognise that this might be the only chance you have to get answers from him- you're not coming back to feed him again, and you have no idea what the others are going to want to do with him after this- so you ask the question that's been running around your mind since last night, 'why didn't you kill me? You were planning to kill someone since the game started and we spent so much time alone together. You had so many chances but you didn't, so why?'
'I can't say the thought didn't cross my mind, but I just couldn't, you're too precious, too important, I-' Nagito stops for a second, throat working as he swallows. For a split second you think maybe he's embarrassed or overcome with emotion but then he continues, voice more sure and excited than before, 'you gave someone as pitiful as me hope, how could I give that up?' Despite your disappointment Nagito sounds so… exuberant that you can't help but believe him, can't help but be carried away by the conviction that's in his voice because he truly believes what he's saying.
Weirdly enough, through this strange, circular conversation, you're slowly starting to understand where Nagito is coming from. Because for a second there, when it sounded like he was getting choked up over you and then it turned out he wasn't, you were disappointed- and to have disappointment you have to have hope in the first place.
You don't agree with him. And you're still angry, but you're starting to understand where he's coming from. You gave someone as pityful as me hope, how could I give that up? You can't help but think, weren't you doing the same thing? He liked- or likes- you for the sense of hope he feels from the relationship, and you liked him for the sense of comfort he gave you. You were relying on him for your feelings of safety and security, something that's been so scarce since you were magically transported to this island and learned about the unsettling reality you've been forced into, the same way he was relying on you for hope.
Whether you want to admit it or not, you're both two sides of the same coin. Isn't part of why you've been so angry at him? Now he's revealed who he truly is, you no longer have that feeling of security, you no longer have hope. Wasn't it the first thing out of your mouth when he angered you? "Nagito, you lied to me", not Nagito you tried to kill someone, Nagito you betrayed us all, but, "Nagito, you lied to me." Yes, you mourn for Byakuya, but more intimately you mourn for your own sense of security and comfort, something you don't have anymore now that you know Nagito's upbeat assurance that you'll all get through this together was nothing more than a steadfast lie.
'That look on your face… you're being swayed to my side, aren't you?' Nagito's voice interrupts your musings and brings you crashing back to reality. You turn your head to look down at him from where you'd been staring off into space and are once again assaulted by how comfortable he looks here. He's looking at you with the same of look of fond awe and disbelief he had the first time you kissed him, smiling at you like you're sitting in his room again, talking about how of all the places to be trapped, at least it's a tropical beach that's stockpiled with good food and water.
Immediately your body floods with annoyance at being accurately called out. You roll your eyes at him again and try sneer at him from your position above him but Nagito doesn't seem to notice. He's either oblivious or a very good actor. He doesn't seem at all bothered by how his arms are pulled behind his back, doesn't seem uncomfortable lying directly on the floor, doesn't seem upset that you're forced to look down on him because of your positions, doesn't seem upset at how you're looking at him with contempt. In fact, he seems to be rather enjoying himself from the look on his face. Irrate at his assumption that he could sway you- just because you understand him a little better doesn't mean you agree with his understanding of the world- you roll your eyes again and put your hands on your knees to stand up.
'Ah, hey! Weren't you planning to feed me?' Nagito interrupts you, voice suddenly a little desperate compared to his earlier sunny disposition.
You frown at him and say, 'feed yourself,' shoving the plate towards him slightly.
'My hands are tied behind my back, you're not going to make me eat like a dog are you? …Unless, are you into pet play?' He sounds genuinely surprised, like his startled realisation is real, but when he continues talking you know he's just fucking with you, 'I'd really rather you ask me first before foisting your fetish on me, you know. I don't mind doing a little roleplay if it'll help you forgive me but consent is important. If you'd have asked first, I could have been acting like a dog this entire time.'
'I should make you eat like a dog just for the comment,' you reply coldly, but the effect is undercut by the way you're settling back down onto your knees and pulling the plate towards you.
Sitting so close to him with the plate in your hands, the reality of what you're about to do hits you with gusto and suddenly you're nervous. This would have been awkward with the Nagito you trusted but you have no idea how to approach the situation with this, new and definitely not improved Nagito.
'…um, how should I-?' You question, looking to Nagito in hopes he will present you with a less awkward option than the one you're currently considering.
'You could unlock my hands but the others might be mad…' The way Nagito says it is so rage inducing that as suddenly as your discomfort had arrived, it leaves just as quicky. All feelings of awkwardness flee you body, replaced with irritation that you're stuck doing this.
'I'll kill you myself before I untie you,' you tell him harshly.
'Really? Do you mean it? Excellent! We should start brainstorming ways for you to get away with it, I have so many ide-'
'Nagito!' You cut him off sharply.
'Huh? What is it?' Nagito sounds confused, like he genuinely doesn't know what he did wrong.
'I wasn't being serious, I'm not going to fucking kill you,' you tell him.
'Aw, why not? I'll help you get away with it,' Nagito sounds so petulant it's almost impossible to believe you're dicussing you potentially murdering him.
'I don't want to, I don't want to kill anyone,' you tell him.
'But surely you want to kill me! After all, I am the person who set off this whole chain of events, Byakuya and Teruteru are dead because of me, even Kazuichi and Nekomaru went to the extreme of tying me up and locking me in here because of how much they hate me!'
Somehow hearing his crimes rattled off like that is more exhausting than listening to him ramble on about hope. You're aware it probably should make you angrier than you already are but instead it just makes you tired. 'I don't want to kill you Nagito,' you sigh. 'I- I don't know what I want to do with you but I don't want to kill you. Not even after what you did.'
'Then let me help you! We can kill-'
'Nagito!' You snap, louder than before. Nagito's mouth shuts abruptly, whatever else he was going to say swallowed and kept in his stomach to be digested. 'I am not killing anyone, end of. I am going to feed you this sandwich and then I am going to leave. And- and you are not going to talk any more of murdering or being murdered during that time! Okay?'
'I didn't mean to make you angry, I just-' At the look in your eyes Nagito trails off, starting again and instead saying, '…will you help me sit up first? Kind of hard to be fed in this position.' It's probably just another act but Nagito sounds appropriately chagrinned enough that you sigh and agree. You're not doing it for him, you're doing it for you because he has a point, it is going to be hard to feed him when he's on his side like this.
'Yeah, c'mere,' you say, putting the plate down to lean over and grab him by the shoulders, pulling him up towards you. Nagito barely moves, just rocks awkwardly forwards and then rolls back onto his arms with an uncomfortable look on his face. The lack of movement isn his fault, with his arms pinned a combination of both behind and beneath him they're likely entirely numb, it's not like there's anything for him to push against to help him up, and his legs are bound.
He's entirely reliant on you, only able to stay still while you manipulate him and try to pull him upright so you put more effort into it, then when that doesn't work you put a considerable amount of force into it, then when that doesn't work you put so much force into it that finally you get him off the floor and upright- success!
You throw your arms up in the air in glee but your success is incredibly shortlived as it turns out you've pulled him so hard that as soon as your hands leave his shoulders Nagito comes crashing forwards, knocking you off balance with his shoulders and tipping you onto your back with gusto.
Your shoulders hit the floor first, knocking the breath from your body before your head connects, bouncing off the carpeted floorboards with a burst of pain. You can only watch, both dazed and speechless, as Nagito windmills wildly for a second even though his arms are still stuck behind him- which largely looks like him doing a bad impression of a fish on land- and then he's tipping forwards, shoulders crashing into your knees and scraping across your thigh with force as his face skids directly across your crotch.
Your knees come up reflexively as you groan in pain. The roof slips by above you repeatedly, the room spinning and you're too startled to move even once it's over. …What just happened? You replay the memory instantly yet still can't believe it even as you recall the sensation of Nagito's forehead bumping your thigh and then your crotch, before his cheek and the edge of his mouth slide smoothly across it.
The memory loops like the spinning of the roof above you and you're left reeling, feeling both very fucking relieved that he had the sense to turn his face to the side and also vaguely disappointed. …Do you still want to fuck Nagito??? You immediately shove that feeling in a box and pack it away to digest later because that is one thing too many to deal with right now.
'Uhm, I need a little help here…' Nagito calls out awkwardly from where he's trapped, head stuck laying on your lower stomach, neck between your legs leaning on- nope, cancel that thought- his shoulders pressed up against your thighs, no doubt leaving bruises from where he's unintentionally bullied your legs open. You sit up on your elbows, looking down at him, face burning as the reality that that really just happened sets in and then you're scrabbling backwards like a crab on your hands and heels, leaving Nagito to crash that last foot or so of space face first onto the floor with a groan.
'Oh shit,' you scrabble to your hands and knees, rushing forwards and adding carpet burned knees and palms to the injury of your now bruised thighs and ego as you grab Nagito by the shoulders again and then, with a similar but less unhinged level of force, lever him off the floor (and simultaneously his face) and up onto his knees with care not to immediately let go once you get him there.
'You really have a talent for that, are you sure you're not the Ultimate Klutz?' Nagito jokes after you've managed to settle him on his knees. This position also seems a little uncomfortable with how tightly his legs are tied together but you can help him lie back down once he's done eating. You can't help but feel a little grateful that he isn't choosing to make this situation more uncomfortable for you than he coul-
'Though I suppose it is equal now. If we had a penny for everytime you've fallen over and one of us has ended up with a face full of the other's crotch- …we'd only have two pennies, but it's weird that it's happened twice. If I didn't know any better I'd think you're a pervert like Teruteru and were doing it on purpose!'
'No. Nope. Definitely not on purpose,' you state quickly, too eager to deny what he's implying to feel sad about the mention of Teruteru- he might have been a massive perv but he was still gruesomely murdered.
'I don't know-' Nagito starts, voice musing like he really doesn't believe you so you reach over and punch him in the shoulder. Hard.
'Hey!' He shouts, 'that hurt.' You're sure if his hand was free to rub his arm it would be, the thought satisfies the part of you that's been getting more and more annoyed with his antics the longer you talk to him.
'It was meant to. I not want to kill you but that doesn't mean I don't want to punch you when you're being a dick.'
'You've really got a mean streak, you know,' Nagito grumbles.
'Shut up, I'm going to feed you now,' you inform him sharply, picking up the plate again and shuffling towards him on your knees. He is not going to make you feel bad for him, he deserved that, the fall was an accident- both times!
'What's with that look on your face? It's so scary. I'm starting to get worried you're going to hurt me some other way-'
You shove the sandwich in Nagito's mouth while it's open, effectively cutting him off and making him choke on his own words slightly. A vindictive little tingle of joy runs down your spine at the sight and you have to cut off a snicker as it worms itself free.
Nagito takes his time chewing, making a show out of savouring the sandwich before saying, 'wow! That was so good, you're a really good-'
'I didn't make it,' you cut him off before he can finish his sentence, 'you're not gonna butter me up by giving me unneccessary compliments,' you tell him.
Nagito shrugs like it's nothing, chucking out, 'oops. Caught me,' while shrugging his shoulders before he leans forwards to take another bite of the sandwich. Even though you just told him not to, his eyes flicker shut and he moans like the sandwich is the best thing he's eaten in his life- which is bizarre because you don't think Mahiru even bothered to butter the bread; Nagito might be eating what happens to be the driest sandwich in the world.
Nagito's eyelids flutter as he leans in to take another bite. He's looking up at you through his lashes in a way that you do not- you do not find attractive when he accidentally catches your finger in his mouth- and that's when you finally catch on.
There's no other way to interpret the look in his eyes than decidely seductive and he's watching you with an intensity that makes you want to squirm in place. His mouth is a burning wet heat on your finger, tongue brushing over in a way that can't be written off as an accident before his teeth graze your skin as he finally takes his bite and pulls back.
You know what he's doing, know this is a stupid ploy to get back into your good graces and yet for some reason it's fucking working. Your breath catches and sticks in your throat as your eyes fixate on his mouth. Nagito sits back, chewing with a smile on his face and his eyes closed, making sounds that would be inappropriate for a porn shoot, let alone eating a sandwich.
'Okay! That's it! I'm done,' you shout, far too loud for how close you're sitting to Nagito and you know this because he startles, eyes snapping open to look at you, bewildered as he stops chewing. Which is rich because he knows what he's doing, he's fucking with you on purpose. He stares at you for a moment before slowly resuming chewing and then deliberately swallowing. You don't know if it's on purpose but you feel more and more awkward as every second passes while you wait for him to speak.
'What? But I've only eaten half of my sandwich, are you just going to let me starve?' Of course the first thing out of his mouth is that.
'If you're eating it like that then yeah. I am,' you say shortly, not willing to entertain his feigned ignorance.
Nagito shrugs and hits you with a sunny smile, eyes crinkling from the force of it, 'how else am I supposed to eat it? With my eyes?'
'Like you're not trying to fuck it, maybe.'
'Wow, maybe you aren't just a klutz and you really are a pervert; what kind of outlandish thought is that? You think I want to fuck my sandwich?'
'No, I think you're using the sandwich as an erotic ploy to try and entice me into fucking you so I'll forgive you or fall into some other fucked up trap you've set.'
'Ah. So I was wrong earlier,' Nagito says cryptically.
You don't like where this is going… But against your better judgement you say, 'about what?'
'You're not into pet play. You're a feeder,' he states, like that means anything to you.
'I'm a what?' You ask.
'A feeder. Someone who gets off on feeding other people and making them fat.'
'I am fucking not-'
'It's the only explaination, after all, I was eating my sandwich is a completely normal manner and you here you are accusing me of seducing you. If I'd have known you were into this I wouldn't have asked you to feed me, it would be cruel to tease you like that. Although I am curious, do you find all food erotic or is it just sandwiches?'
You're going to hit him. You're going to hit him so hard it does kill him and he'll get his wish. You're really gonna do it. The second you stop shaking from rage you're gonna do it.
'Or, maybe for some indecipherable reason you're still into me and you just can't control yourself. It stands to reason that some people have a type that's just terrible, after all you did pull me on top of you earlier.' Nagito genuinely looks musing, like he's concentrating on trying to figure out a puzzle and not just being the most irritating man on Earth.
'Nagito, you are not winning yourself any points here by making me mad,' you grit out between clenched teeth.
Hearing this, Nagito smiles at you again, disposition startling sunny in comparison to how you're feeling currently. 'But you're not sad anymore, right?'
'I- what?' You ask, unsure if you heard him right.
'You looked really upset when you arrived earlier. When I saw that look on your face all I wanted was to wipe it off and replace it with something better. It's a bit early for hope, you're still regaining your strength of conviction from the shocking events of last night, but I figured I could make you angry pretty easily. I even managed to pull a laugh out of you, though it was because I was choking on the sandwich when you shoved it in my mouth abruptly. Not bad for someone as trash as I am.'
Nagito smiles proudly and you- …you don't know what to feel. Happy that someone's looking out for you? Angry at being manipulated again? Afraid that Nagito is so willing and able to lie at the drop of a hat? Conflicted, because in his own way he is, still, looking after you?
You swallow heavily, dropping the plate and climbing to your feet before turning to walk out the room again rather than deal with this. Yet again Nagito stops you in your tracks by chucking out, 'by the way I heard about the Twilight Syndrome Murder Case, was it?'
Your head snaps over to look at him and you freeze, midstep, 'how did you-?'
Nagito barrels on over your words to say, 'I have mixed feelings… I really liked that game a lot.'
'You've played it?' You ask, disbelief colouring your voice.
'Not this version, but I played it back home before we came here. I think it's going to be a really interesting motivation for whoever kills next. Have you played it yet?'
'There's not going to be a next killing, so no I have not played it yet- I'm not going to play it at all!' You shout, angry that he's brought it back to this.
'Oh well, I have to say I'm a little disappointed; it's not like you Ultimates to ignore the threat that's standing right in front of you. Do you think Monokuma will just let that slide?'
He's goading you. It clear from his voice. …But he does make a good point. Monokuma doesn't seem like the kind of human? Bear? Robot? …Being to let something he put out just be ignored. If you don't play it, he'll just make someone play it, and he'll probably pick the worst person for it- the person most likely to kill because of it…
'You guys should confront it… after all, hope springs when you confront despair.' Nagito continues and this time it's convincing. Maybe you just needed the right motivation to believe him- which is even more convincing, what if the game is the exact right motivation for someone else to believe Monokuma?
You still don't agree with Nagito's true intentions, and you still don't know how you feel about him now, but he is right: you might not want to kill anyone but you need to know what's coming, you need to play that game. You spring to your feet, turning and rushing out the room as you hear Nagito call, 'wait! What about my sandwich? I'm hungry!' after you.
Later, in your cabin alone when you're trying to decipher how Twlight Syndrome Murder Case could be a motivation for murder, you realise you left Nagito sitting upright and that he's going to have to flop onto his face to lie down to sleep again. …It serves him right. He's never going to make up for what he did to Byakuya and Teruteru, but this way you can at least feel a little better about the fact that he lied to you. You decide to call it penance for his crimes- the lessor ones, that is.
xxxxxxxx
I've not finished the game so no spoilers please!
Chapter 2
i really liked who nagito was before and am autistic enough that i did not pick up on his shifty vibes i just thought he was socially inept but trying his best like me. i spent the first half of chapter 1 going 'hajime!! stop thinking hes weird hes sweet! leave him alone u meanie!!1!'
his character switch is fun and its a cool flip on game 1's whole ethos but it did make me sad for a minute (and also a little horny WHAT business does he have looking so enticing trussed up like a pig, what a horny fucking shot with his stupid fucking smile and that VOICE?? my god…)
anyway i might add to this as i play btu i also might not so read this as a standalone for now
gosh danganronpa is fun. i played the first one last year and only got around to this one recently. i always knew nagito was a tumblr sexy man and was like yeah ok iget u ig but then i started the game and his personality was so NORMAL??? AND NICE??? I WAS CONFUSED???? and then i got ATTACHED snd he switched up on me and i HATED new nagito,,, but i finally understood why tumblr thought he was a sexy man hahahahaha
i had to take a breather from playing so i wrote this fic to reconcile my feelings like damn. but now i can enjoy nagitos character and how interesting it makes things to have an antagonist within the player charcters collective group yk? bc ya technically sakura was an antagonist for a little bit but she wasnt rly bc we found out she was a spy AS she rebelled against monokuma yk? to have someone who does genuinely fucked shit for their own reasons, not blackmail or being forced when theyre not even the villain/dont view themselves as one is very fun im excited to see where his charcater goes.
Anyway i might add to this as i play btu i also might not so read this as a standalone for now.
anyways! let me know if there are any egregious typos! and leave me a comment (please? pretty please? i need them im weakkkkkk) (jk but please do leave a comment i love hearing from yall :)))) )
*edit, sometimes I reread first when I've posted bc I catch more typos that way and I fucking made nagito rub his arm when they're chained behind his back ahabaha brain fart moment frrrrrrr
𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒓 𝒀𝒂𝒏! 𝑨𝒓𝒕 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑵𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒙 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒉 𝑺𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝑪𝒍𝒖𝒃 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑭 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 Part 3 (Find Part 2 here.)
Nagito spends one reckless night scrolling through your Instagram, only to become hopelessly jealous of one person who keeps appearing in every post. Unfortunately for him, ignoring you turns out to be a very bad idea.
Nagito's fingers tightened around the strap of his school bag until they hurt.
He had promised himself he wouldn't bring it up.
It wasn't his place.
He was just a classmate. A member of your sports club. Someone you'd agreed to help because he'd practically begged for it. Nothing more.
So why did it feel like there was something lodged painfully in his chest every time he thought about last night?
"...I just..." His voice caught.
Still looking at him with that impatient expression that always made his thoughts scatter.
His throat felt dry.
The question had been circling his head since two in the morning, replaying alongside every photograph he'd scrolled through until his eyes burned.
He'd meant to stop after the first few posts.
Instead he'd kept going.
Pictures from school festivals where half the class crowded around you, everyone smiling while you stood somewhere near the middle.
Club celebrations.
Birthday dinners.
Trips into town.
Arcades.
Cafes.
Group selfies taken during train rides.
Every comment underneath them was the same.
"You're hilarious."
"See you tomorrow."
"That was so fun x."
People liked you.
So many people like you.
He'd always known you were popular, but seeing it all laid out in front of him had felt... different.
And then there was him.
Mondo.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Sometimes standing beside you. Sometimes throwing an arm over your shoulder. Sometimes making stupid faces beside yours while you rolled your eyes at the camera.
Sometimes appearing in the background without either of you even acknowledging it, as though being around each other had become completely ordinary.
Nagito couldn't even remember how many photos there were anymore. Enough that he'd started recognising the same leather jacket.
The same stupid grin.
The same name appearing beneath nearly every other post.
He hated how quickly jealousy had taken root.
It wasn't fair.
Meanwhile Nagito had spent almost ten minutes working up the courage just to ask for your phone number.
"...Why..."
Then-
"Oi!"
Your attention snapped away immediately and Nagito looked up.
Of course.
Mondo.
________________________________
The next morning, Nagito never showed up.
The whistle between your teeth shrilled across the gymnasium as another lap finished, your clipboard snapping shut harder than necessary before you glanced toward the entrance for what had to be the sixth or seventh time.
Still nothing.
Students continued jogging past you but the familiar awkward figure who usually stumbled in 15 minutes early with an apologetic smile was nowhere to be seen.
You checked your phone.
No message.
Your jaw tightened.
"Hey!"
Kazuichi wandered over while towelling the back of his neck.
"Your little puppy finally run away?"
You didn't answer.
Kazuichi looked toward the empty doorway before snorting.
"Guess he realised exercise ain't for him."
The clipboard in your hand made a loud crack as you flipped another page over.
"Three more laps," you said without looking at him.
"...That wasn't the amount before."
"It is now."
Kazuichi stared.
"...Damn. Somebody's cranky."
"You planning on running them?"
"...Nope."
He disappeared back toward the others almost immediately.
Across the gym, several club members exchanged quick glances before silently returning to their warm-ups.
Nobody commented when you blew the whistle earlier than usual.
Nobody complained when stretches were held longer.
Nobody pointed out that you'd looked toward the entrance again.
Or again.
Or the fourth time.
You clicked your pen against the clipboard.
"...Idiot."
_________________________________
Monday morning.
An empty space beside the equipment cupboard where Nagito usually struggled through stretches.
Tuesday.
You instinctively looked toward the gym doors after blowing your whistle, only to find another group of first years wandering in instead.
Wednesday.
Akane asked if "that creepy lucky guy" had dropped out.
You told her to keep running.
Thursday.
You caught yourself scanning the corridors between lessons before immediately pretending you were looking for somebody else.
Friday.
Still nothing.
Not a single explanation. Not even one pathetic apology.
If Nagito wanted to disappear without saying anything after begging you to help him, then that was his problem. You had a club to run, competitions coming up, members who actually bothered turning up on time, and far more important things to think about than one awkward art student who apparently couldn't commit to anything for longer than a fortnight.
So why did it annoy you every single morning?
The answer irritated you almost as much as Nagito himself.
You hated it enough that by the end of the week your instructions became noticeably harsher, your patience considerably shorter, and poor Kazuichi somehow ended up doing an extra twenty burpees simply because he'd laughed during stretches.
"You've been in a foul mood all week," Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu observed one afternoon while packing away medicine balls.
"I haven't."
"You just made Soda apologise to a skipping rope."
"He deserved it."
"...How?"
"He looked at me."
Fuyuhiko stared.
You walked away before he could say anything else.
Nagito had seemed to be avoiding you everywhere else too.
Whenever you spotted him across campus, he'd disappear into another corridor before you could reach him.
If you entered the library, he'd already be leaving.
If you walked into class early, he'd suddenly decide the vending machines needed visiting.
Twice you were almost certain he'd seen you first.
It stopped feeling like coincidence by Wednesday.
The idiot was dodging you.
________________
You didn't even give him a chance to escape.
The moment Nagito stepped out of the last changing cubicle with his bag slung awkwardly over one shoulder and his still-damp hair slick against his forehead, you caught the door before it could swing shut behind him, stepped inside, and turned the lock.
Nagito froze the instant he saw you. His eyes widened so quickly it was almost comical, and for a brief second he looked like a deer that had wandered directly into oncoming traffic. Instinctively he took a single step backwards, only for his shoulders to bump against the locker.
You didn't stop there. Closing the distance in only a few strides, you planted one hand against the locker beside his head, effectively boxing him into the corner before folding your other arm across your chest. "Enough. One whole week. Seven practices. Not a single message. Every time I see you, you disappear in the opposite direction. What the hell is your problem?"
Nagito's mouth opened immediately.
"...I..."
Then it closed again.
"I..."
Another failed attempt.
The words simply refused to come out.
His breathing had already become uneven, not because you were particularly intimidating- although you certainly looked it right now- but because he'd been dreading this exact conversation for days.
Every excuse he'd rehearsed sounded ridiculous now that you were standing directly in front of him, glaring hard enough to make him feel about four inches tall. He fidgeted with the strap of his bag, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then glanced uncertainly towards the door behind you before quickly looking away again.
"What?" you demanded. "Spit it out."
"I-I..."
"You've got plenty to say when you're apologising."
"...Sorry."
You let out a long, exasperated sigh.
"Unbelievable."
Nagito swallowed hard.
"...C-can..."
"No."
"I... I haven't..."
"No."
"I just..."
Every time he managed two words, you cut him off before he could gather enough courage to continue, and somehow the conversation kept drifting further and further away from the actual explanation.
Meanwhile a completely different problem had reached a critical point.
Nagito shifted again.
His knees pressed together for half a second before he awkwardly corrected himself, praying you hadn't noticed.
You had.
"...Why are you standing like that?"
"N-no reason."
"..."
His face somehow became even redder.
The swimming lesson had finished barely five minutes earlier. And he'd spent the last half hour stubbornly ignoring the increasingly desperate need to use the toilet because he wanted everyone else to leave first.
Then you appeared and locked the door.
And now he'd been trapped in this conversation for what felt like an eternity.
"...Can I just..."
"No."
"...Please?"
"No."
"I really need to-"
"You really need to answer me."
Nagito squeezed his eyes shut for a second.
"This is important."
"So is this."
"No, I mean..." He hesitated.
There was absolutely no way he could say it.
"...I really have to go."
"So do I. Get on with it."
"No, I mean... go."
You stared at him blankly.
"...Go where?"
"...The..."
Nothing.
The word physically refused to leave his mouth.
You mistook the silence for him avoiding the question again.
"Oh, don't even start. You don't get to disappear for a week, ignore every practice, avoid me around school, and then suddenly decide you've forgotten how to speak."
"I-I haven't!"
"Then explain!"
"I c-can't!"
"Why?"
"Because..."
He bent forward slightly, both hands instinctively pressing against his thighs before he quickly straightened again, mortified he'd done it in front of you.
You blinked.
"...Are you... alright?"
"..."
"...Nagito?"
His composure finally gave up.
Very slowly, and with all the dignity of a collapsing deck chair, he slid down the lockers until he was crouched on the floor, face buried in one hand while the other clutched his bag for dear life.
"...I really, really need the toilet..."
"...You're kidding."
A miserable shake of his head. His shoulders hiking up toward his ears as if he were trying to physically shrink away from your gaze. A pathetic sound escaped his throat halfway between a whimper and a sob.
"I-I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have skipped practice, I'm so sorry.." His voice cracked painfully, betraying how close he was to an actual breakdown. "But I couldn't help it, I just-"
A visible shudder ran through his entire frame. He shifted his weight restlessly, crossing his legs tightly while hunched over, his knuckles white from how hard he was gripping his own knees. The desperation in his expression was unmistakable; he looked utterly humiliated to be caught in such a vulnerable, undignified state by someone he admired so intensely.
"Please don't be mad at me..." he whispered, looking up at you through tear blurred lashes, his lower lip trembling uncontrollably. "I'll do anything, I'll- nngh just please... I need to go.."
The moment he tried to take that step toward the door, his legs gave out slightly, and he let out a high pitched, pathetic whine. All the bravado was gone, replaced by a raw, childlike desperation. "I can't I can't hold it anymore, I'm begging you! Please let me go to the bathroom, I'll do anything, I'll- nngh! Ahh!"
He reached the door, his fingers fumbling frantically at the handle, his entire body shaking with the effort of trying to keep his bladder clenched. "Please... please open it, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm such a mess, just let me-"
You stepped closer, your shadow falling over him as he struggled with the lock. "Hmm..." you mused coldly, watching his desperate movements. "You've been so bad lately, Nagito. Skipping practice, being difficult... do you really think you deserve to just walk away after that?"
"I don't care about that right now! Please!" he sobbed, finally hearing the click of the lock as he managed to turn it. His face lit up with a flash of hope, his eyes wide and streaming with tears. "Thank you! Thank you."
He yanked the door open, but before he could take a single step into the hallway, you slammed it shut right behind him, catching him off guard. The sudden shock, the physical jolt of the door slamming, and the terrifying realization that he was still trapped broke his last shred of control.
"Nnngh ahh..n-no!"
A strangled cry tore from his throat as his body completely surrendered. The sound was unmistakable in the quiet changing room a sudden, heavy, splashing sound as he lost the battle completely. His knees buckled, and he slumped against the closed door, his face twisting in pure, unfiltered humiliation as heat spread rapidly down his thighs, soaking through his pants in a dark, spreading stain.
"I... I couldn't..." he whimpered, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own failure. "I'm sorry... Miss... I'm so sorry..."
The silence that followed the sound of his surrender was deafening. For a moment, you just stood there, frozen. The reality of what had just happened the raw, wet sound, the smell, the complete loss of dignity hit her like a physical blow. A wave of panic washed over you.
What did I just do? What have I done?
Behind her, left alone in the dim light of the locker room, Nagito's body twitched involuntarily from the aftershocks of the release, a strange expression crossed his face. Between the tears and the shame, his lips curled into a weak delirious smile a twisted expression of twisted gratitude that he had finally been seen.
You made it home in a blur
Then, the phone started.
*PING*
_____________________________________
Nagito: I'm so sorry.
Nagito: I really didn't mean for any of that to happen.
Nagito: Please don't be angry...
Nagito: Actually, you have every right to be angry.
Nagito: I'm sorry.
Nagito: I know that apology doesn't really fix anything.
Nagito: I'm sorry I wasted your time.
Nagito: And I'm sorry for disappearing from practice.
Nagito: I know I promised I'd come.
Nagito: Please don't remove me from the club.
Nagito: I still want to get stronger.
Nagito: Even if I'm... like this.
Nagito: I know I've caused you nothing but trouble.
Nagito: I really appreciate everything you've done for me.
Nagito: I'm sorry for making a mess..
Nagito: I'm so embarrassed. I don't think I can look you in the eye anymore.
Nagito: Sorry...
Nagito: Sorry for sending so many messages.
Nagito: You don't have to reply.
_______________________________________
You stared at the screen for a long moment, watching yet another notification slide down from the top before disappearing beneath the dozens that had come before it.
You let out a long sigh through your nose before pressing the power button, the screen fading to black and finally taking the constant stream of apologies with it.
"...Enough."
_______________________________________
Guys... Idk how we're gonna take the watersports buttttt 👀
