Chapter Text
For Nagito, Sundays were always a day for relaxation and catching up on the week.
Unwinding and ‘taking things easy’ didn’t come as naturally to him as other people, but over the years he’d learned the hard way that it may as well be considered a survival skill. Especially when, despite his mostly stable and improved health, he was unfortunately prone to fainting from stress. Stress that came very easily nowadays, ever since he was forced to relocate on short notice due to his job.
Still, he’d worked out something of a routine along the lines of waking up, taking longer showers, treating himself to a heartier breakfast, and reading more often – everything else in the day could be improvised based on his needs, but he’d promised himself to fit in at least one long walk a day.
And so that led him to a strangely nice park smack in the middle of Central Osaka.
Under the recommendations of local shopkeepers, particularly the nice old lady that sold lunch to him earlier that day, he was told to try roaming around the plot of land across the street; that it’d help him get acquainted with locals and let him get a feel for the city itself. It wasn’t quite far away from his new home, but if he hadn’t taken the train and then walked to this part of the city, he never would’ve discovered it.
Well-kept. Colourful. Beautiful.
The park wasn’t barren of people by any means, but the crowd was pleasantly light considering that it was a weekend – only a handful of elementary school children chasing each other around the playground, and both young and old couples slowly walking hand in hand, admiring the flowerbeds full of late spring bloomers. A sweet aroma wafts in the afternoon air, only punctuated by the occasional whiff of savoury street food from the bright yellow okonomiyaki truck parked nearby.
Nagito wasn’t familiar with any of the people in this district besides a few shopkeepers, only having fallen into this new routine a few weeks ago – and having moved to the city in even lesser time. That unfamiliarity gnawed at him, and while the feeling of being the odd one out wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him, he’d always preferred to be an observer; to know about every detail he could pick up about the world around him. His luck somehow wasn’t all that fearful or life-destroying anymore, but he still couldn’t help but strive to be ahead of the curve – whether it was force of habit or precautionary, he couldn’t really tell.
But the circumstances were such that he just had to adjust. Moving and settling in a new city in less than three days had him running through a whirlwind of headache inducing events and last-minute adjustments – still, he couldn’t say that he wasn’t at least a little bit pleased with how well he’s managed to organize everything. Now all that was really left was to familiarize himself, and lapse into a new normal like breaking in new shoes.
He takes in the city of Osaka with open arms and a hopeful attitude. It’s positively brimming with not only talented people, but average but earnest ones as well. And despite how stubbornly he clung to his ideals as a teenager, he finds that there’s nothing less than a newfound respect for even a typical salaryman.
Nagito breathes deeply and takes in the scent of freshly cut grass, letting his eyes settle on the horizon line right along the treetops at the bottom of the hill. He smiles to himself, musing about how and when his entire outlook changed on even the most ordinary people.
He smiles to himself, even though he knows exactly who changed it.
The thought fizzled out faster than he would’ve liked, but it’s not like he should expect anything different. Ever since graduating Hope’s Peak Academy, Nagito hadn’t quite kept in touch with any of his classmates besides exchanging email addresses with Chiaki; although not even that worked out for him considering that, in a fit of bad luck, he’d permanently locked himself out of his email account forever. Somehow. And although he was rather good at hiding it, disappointment reared its ugly head every now and then whenever he remembered that the few others he’d wanted to stay in contact with never did.
But it didn’t matter anymore, did it? Dwelling on the past never helped matters to begin with.
Even so, he would somehow occasionally run into familiar-looking faces from the Reserve Course that he’d never actually met – but getting lucky enough to see his Main Course classmates, in person at least, had never been an easy feat. Although, it wasn’t like he was clueless as to how they were doing, considering that their faces were plastered over television screens, tabloids, bus windows, and even the giant screens in Shibuya whenever he’d stop in Tokyo for work. He wouldn’t be surprised if they’d made their names known overseas as well.
It made sense that they were busy cultivating their talents. He could only feel grateful that his own talent, or rather his curse, had dwindled down over the years.
Yet… he could never quite shake the spine-tingling feeling that his bad luck had given him one last hard shove.
Nagito shakes the thought out of his head, and instead tucks his hands into his white cardigan. His legs carry him back onto the winding path that led down to the creek. Even from a distance, he could see the gentle flowing stream, passing under the many stone bridges that connected one side of the park to the forest hiking trail. Sunlight bounced off the surface of the water shimmering like glitter, and Nagito couldn’t deny that it only added to the splendor of this place.
His eyes met with an elderly man walking parallel to him, carefully trudging back up the hill with a steady grip on his cane. Almost instantly, the stranger flashes a pleasant smile at him; sweet and full of mirth, even though he was surely out of breath. Nagito smiled right back, hoping to convey even a fraction of that joy, carrying that feeling with him all the way to the bottom of the hill where the creek water lapped at bare and weathered maple tree roots.
The air smelled a bit different closer to the water, making Nagito scrunch up his nose subconsciously. It wasn’t all too different from his hometown, but it was easy enough to catch the difference – especially now that he was away from the fragrance of the flowerbeds at the top of the hill. He pauses by one of the trees right by the bank and closes his eyes, letting the sounds of the rushing water surround him.
Except…
Between the sounds of the rushing water and the songbirds, he heard… sniffling?
Nagito’s eyes shot open, worry overwhelming him as he quickly scanned back and forth between the trees for the source of the noise. Whether it was his luck kicking in or something else, he suddenly noticed the edges of a silhouette trembling along a tree’s shadow.
Carefully, the man paced forward as quietly as he could – frowning and cursing himself for not being quiet enough once he’d realized that the sniffling had suddenly stopped entirely, likely so that they wouldn’t draw attention. Still, he just couldn’t bring himself to leave them alone.
He turns the corner of the aged maple tree, only to find a girl far too young to be alone, her entire body quivering uncontrollably while she had her eyes squeezed shut. Nagito’s eyebrows furrowed, feeling something pinch at his chest as he watched the child try and make herself look smaller, as if she didn’t want to take up precious space.
Carefully, he crouched all the way to the floor, ignoring the fact that his knees would be covered it grass stains – right now nothing mattered more than helping her.
“Hey…” Nagito starts gently, keeping his voice low, “Are you alright?”
The girl didn’t respond, but he caught the way she flinched at being addressed. Her short and wavy light-brown hair covered parts of her face, but Nagito didn’t need to see all of it to know that her eyes were puffy from crying.
“Are you lost, perhaps?”
And at last, the girl’s trembling subsided as she slowly opened her eyes to look at him. Nagito was caught off guard by just how similar their eyes were – even from a slight distance, he could see that they were a similar shade of grey-green. The girl stared at him for a moment almost contemplative, her tiny fists curled into the bottom of her flower-print denim jumpsuit before she nodded slowly.
Nagito smiled, letting his expression relax a bit as he slowly inched forward on his knees a little, making sure not to scare the other off. “Would you be fine with telling me your name?”
At that, the girl quickly shook her head, her fists gripping the fabric even tighter. Nagito waited for a few moments, hoping that she would give something that would nudge them in the right direction. Before a sigh could leave him, a small and timid voice spoke up.
“…Papa told me not to give my name to strangers…”
He hummed in thought, bringing a hand to his chin, “That’s alright, then. You don’t have to tell me anything that makes you uncomfortable.” His eyes went back to the child in front of him, who had thankfully visibly relaxed at his words, much to his own relief, “Would you mind telling me a little bit of what happened? Where did you get separated?”
“I, um…” She started, although Nagito could tell her eyes were getting misty. Her breaths came out short and stilted, shoulders hunched together again, her left hand anxiously picking and fiddling with the flower-shaped buttons on her outfit. The fear of loneliness and guilt of causing trouble for not only her own father, but also a complete stranger, pricked at her chest.
The man quickly noticed her distress, leaning back a bit to fully sit on his legs – they were completely eye-level now, as the girl looked at the other and noticed how they had similar looking eyes, feeling a strange sense of companionship.
“Hey, hey, deep breaths – it’s alright, you’re not in any rush,” Nagito relaxed his shoulders and took a few steady, rhythmic breaths, “Just follow my breathing, okay?”
The girl nodded once, and then twice for good measure, starting to even out her breaths to the strange man’s pace as he gestured the rhythm with his hands.
After a few moments, she tried again, sniffling quietly and keeping her eyes glued to the grass beneath their feet, “Papa and I were food shopping, and… he got busy with work stuff on the phone but I… I don’t—I was looking for something I wanted, but there were too many people and then I was outside and…” she trailed off, waterworks starting up again although she desperately tried to rub them away with her palms. Nagito found himself with smiling a bit at the tiny streak of dirt she left behind on her cheek.
“And then you ended up here, separated from your papa.”
She nodded again, wiping her eyes dry and trying to practice the breathing trick he’d taught her moments earlier. He noticed her staring at his chest, and slowed down his breathing again so she could follow along. Nagito sighed, crossing his arms and letting his eyes drift to the creek again as he pondered. Situations like this were clearly why he struggled in new settings – he’d been told by coworkers and even people in passing that his observation skills were excellent, and maybe he wanted to believe a fraction of truth in that statement. If only he were more familiar with the area then—
He suddenly realized, or rather, remembered…
If nothing else, he could always rely on his luck.
“By any chance,” Nagito starts slowly, trying to rack his memory, “Did you and your father visit a grocery store nearby with an elderly lady at the counter? I… believe her name is Kiriya-san.”
The girl’s head perked up, eyes widened with recognition like they were bright and full of hope.
He laughs at the quick reaction, as if she suddenly sprung to life in an instant. Likewise, relief flooded his chest, “I’ll take that as a yes?” He asked, already rising to his feet and dusting off his pants. No amount of dusting would get the mud and stains off, but it’s nothing he’ll lose sleep over.
The child immediately followed, pushing off the maple tree and closing the distance by a few more steps. Nagito offers a hand to her, “Then let’s get going, yeah?”
She stared curiously between his hand and face, uncertain about whether she should take it or not.
“Do you… not want to hold hands?”
A shake of her head, and Nagito nods in response, “That’s fine. Then, do you want to hold onto this instead?” He said, lifting up the bottom end of his cardigan. The girl wordlessly reached out her small hand, and clung onto the soft white fabric.
Nagito’s eyes skimmed over the grass, making sure that they hadn’t left anything behind – he always made sure to carry his wallet, keys, and utility tool with him at all times, but the child didn’t seem to have anything on her besides the clothes on her back.
Getting lost alone was frightening enough, but to have nothing on your person while bumbling around and waiting for someone to find you was an entirely different kind of struggle. The world was far too vast for a child, far too overwhelming and frightful. As a child, Nagito never wandered far once he’d gotten a mild taste of his own luck meddling with his life.
The two of them pushed forward up the hill walking in tandem, silence settling between them and letting the sound of birds fill in the spaces.
Nagito thought back to those days; one of his earliest memories of bad luck as a child was when he’d wanted to play a harmless prank on his busy parents. His busy parents that believed their young child to be self-sufficient enough because they had provided everything to lead a fruitful life. A successful life. But not quite a happy one.
And perhaps they’d already presumed that it’d never be a happy one. Perhaps they’d already had a glimpse into Nagito’s curse before even he was aware of it – or even worse, maybe they’d been struck by it before he even developed a working memory, and that was why they always kept their distance. But nothing could foretell the way they’d outright forget about him.
The forest was far too big, and the shadows stretched way too far; they didn’t bother to find him for more than half a day.
A gentle tug brings him back to the present, looking down at the young girl frowning up at him. He resisted the urge to grin at the ridiculous angle she’d tilted her head at just to glare at him.
“What is it? Do you need something?”
“…No, you just… looked weird, ojisan.” She mumbled, kicking a stray pebble out of the way as they reached the top of the hill, “You were making a strange face.”
Nagito’s breathing slowly evened out again after recovering from the incline, looking back out to the park with even fewer people than before. He hummed something that sounded like an agreement, and immediately felt curious green eyes on him yet again.
“…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare or worry you.” Nagito sheepishly mumbled, “Speaking of looking weird, what does your papa look like, anyway? We’ll need to find him so—”
“Papa looks cool!” was the immediate answer with a starry-eyed gaze, though not quite the one he was looking for. Still, he admired her enthusiasm with a small but amused laugh, “Mm, not quite what I meant. I mean hair colour, height, the clothes he wore…?”
The girl furrowed her eyebrows together in deep thought, the both of them lapsing into silence again. Her hands clasped the sides of her head in frustration, huffing out a grumble that sounded more like a whine, “I… don’t remember his clothes but. But I know papa has brown hair and he’s sorta tall like you!”
Nagito almost tripped over his own feet.
By that painfully average description alone, they’d be scouring all over the city for days, weeks even. He pushed down the sigh that nearly left his lips in favour of a half-hearted grin.
“Well. I don’t fault you for not remembering – after all, you didn’t plan on getting lost.”
The grip on his cardigan tightened a little more, in spite of her shoulders drooping, “But I… didn’t listen… I was stupid and got scared and lost…”
“No, I…” His expression darkened for a fraction of a second, old memories flooding his mind again before he spoke, “I think your papa should’ve been more careful, actually…”
“N-no!” She suddenly cried, startling some of the smaller birds from the bushes, “It’s not papa’s fault at all! It’s all Rumi’s fault!”
“…Rumi?”
The girl’s eyes widened, comically slapping a hand over her mouth as if she could take back her slip-up. A guilty look plagued her, even as Nagito let out a breezy laugh, looking back down at the girl waddling by his hip, “It’s alright, I won’t tell. My name is Nagito Komaeda – it’s a pleasure to meet you, Rumi-chan.”
“It’s… My name is actually Rumiko.”
“Then, Rumiko-chan it is.” He beamed at her, feeling his body get lighter with every step, “Now that I think about it, I think you’re my first friend in this city!”
Rumiko stared up at him with wide eyes, before focusing her gaze ahead. The park, which had once been nothing but a teary blur as she ran past it this morning, felt so much more lively and familiar. Levity seeps in like its second nature, as she finally breaks into a small and sweet smile, “Ojisan… I think you’re really weird, actually…”
A beat of silence passed, before the two of them dissolved into laughter.
For Hajime, Sundays were always the most hellish, tiring, and errand-heavy day of the week.
What generally starts out as a quiet morning quickly devolves into chaos; the only day of the week he has to run errands is Sunday, and that day just happens to be right before the new week. Lo and behold, the grocery store rush hour line – stretching from the checkout counter right up to the very first aisle of the store.
And here he was, fighting down a migraine in the middle of the pastry aisle while his friend yammered his ear off through the phone. Right as he’d gotten off the phone with his boss, another call immediately popped up. Any other time, he would’ve ignored it, considering that they talked more than enough. But with every passing week, the reunion date gets closer, and the incessant calls become more frequent. And unfortunately longer.
His free hand combed through messy brown hair in frustration before he took a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm so that he wouldn’t rip their other’s neck off through the phone line.
“…Souda, look,” He hissed through grit teeth, irritably picking at the plastic wrapping of some mini cornets, “I already told you I can’t make it this week. I have scheduled overtime at work, I have to clean, I have way too much to do, and I want to spend time with—”
He froze.
Hajime’s heart leaped into his throat as his head whipped from one end of the aisle to the other, but just as he'd feared, there was not a single other person in sight.
Kazuichi’s voice cautiously filtered in through the other end again, “Hey, I’m sorry it’s just—” A small pause, “Hello…? Uh. You okay, man?”
“Souda, I’ll… I’ll call you later.” Hajime cut the line, not knowing if Kazuichi said anything in response and frankly, he didn’t give a damn.
His feet moved before his brain could catch up, the only thing looped on his mind like a prayer was finding Rumiko.
He practically flew into the snacks aisle calling out her name, eyes searching both low and high for a glimpse of brown hair and a blue dress, before storming into every single aisle of the store. If people were staring at him for shoving past them, he didn’t care – it didn’t matter anyway if he couldn’t hear anything but his own heartbeat raging in his ears.
Between the call from work and Kazuichi’s stupid rambling, he had no idea how much time had passed. Before this, he’d never let Rumiko out of his sight – not unless he was certain she could handle herself, and even then, he was stubborn; there was only so much a four-year old could do, after all. At most she should’ve been in the snack aisle picking out what she wanted for the week, even though he’d warned her not to wander off because he promised they would do it together.
But it was one aisle over, just one aisle over.
So where the hell could she have gone?
Hajime cut through the line, earning nothing more than a few harmless glares that were hard to see through his misty eyes. Desperation clawed at him as he reached the counter, out of breath and unsure if he could meet the old woman’s kind eyes without breaking down, “Kiriya-san, h-have you seen Rumi? I can’t see her anywhere in the store and we… we walked in a little over an hour ago.”
He leaned his body against the wooden counter, acutely aware of the woman being tended to by the owner giving him a look of pity out of the corner of his eye. He wouldn’t acknowledge it, but he was grateful that she wasn’t screaming at him for cutting in line at the very least.
“Oh, Hinata-san…” She frowns, concern lacing her features as she tries to recollect the past few hours. After a moment, she shakes her head, and Hajime’s heart sinks lower than he’s ever felt it in a long time. “I’m so sorry, I don’t believe I’ve seen her… at least, not from the counter…”
Hajime stands up straight, willing himself to stay calm despite his racing heart, “I see… th—”
“Ah, but…”
He immediately perked up again, “But…?”
“I think I could check the security footage going over the past few hours,” She softly smiled at him, an offer of encouragement, “Would that be of any help?”
His heart felt like it could burst. As soon as the offer left her, he’d ducked his head in a quick bow, “Please– please do. Thank you so much, Kiriya-san,” Hajime raised his head again to meet her eyes, “I’m going to check outside, and I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
Before he could hear all of her response, he darted through the front door of the store, the chime just barely reaching his ears. The afternoon sunlight is harsh off the white pavement, but he knew that he could spot Rumiko from miles away if he had to.
It’s been too long, far too long since he’d last seen her – there’s no way she’d still be wandering around near the front of the shop. He doesn’t know where he wants to even start looking, whether she’s all alone and afraid or acting brave as she usually does. He doesn’t know a goddamn thing and it makes his chest ache unbearably.
Frustration threatened his tears to spill, but it was not the time to wallow in his own misery; not when Rumiko was missing. But if each and every option was just futile, then…
He’d just have to hope for a lucky break.
“Papa!”
A voice cries out behind him, and he knows even before he’s fully turned around and on his knees that it’s Rumiko – it’s Rumi’s voice, it’s the patter of Rumi’s feet against the pavement, and it’s Rumi’s small arms thrown around his shoulders.
His own arms wrap around her small frame as he brings her impossibly close to his chest, rabbiting heartbeat against his own, pressing a firm kiss to her shoulder and another the side of her head. Hajime’s hands were rough but warm as he soothingly stroked her head and let out a deep breath of relief, a million and a half thoughts running through his mind, but nothing rang as distinctly as the relief of seeing his daughter safe.
Rumiko was the first to pull away from her father, misty grey eyes looking anywhere but in front of her and bottom lip quivering as she prepared for the inevitable scolding. Even though he was never the sort to get needlessly angry, Rumiko had gotten her fair share of scoldings whenever she would misbehave badly; but her father was kind and he was especially patient, always making sure that she understood why she got reprimanded.
Still, the thought of letting him down and the relief of finding him again fought tirelessly within her chest, and it made her heart ache.
She'd waited. And waited. All the while the courage to look up again slowly trickled back into her system, but his lecture never came.
“Hey, Rumi... are you okay?”
The dropped hand that was once in her hair moved to cup her cheek, gently lifting her chin so her gaze would meet his – worried sick but full of affection. As if he couldn't possibly have a fibre of anger within his body.
All at once, her feelings overwhelmed her to the point of tears, choking her up until they almost immediately subsided at his soothing words. Hajime smiled at her warmly, waiting until her sniffling dwindled down and wiping away stray tears with his thumbs.
“I won’t scold you. I promise.”
Rumiko looked up and nodded hesitantly. He chuckled lightly, ruffling her messy hair, “So in exchange, can you give me a big smile?”
She paused for a moment, creasing her eyebrows in concentration until she broke out into a bright and wide but wobbly grin, stretching from cheek to cheek – one that became less shaky with every passing second, beginning to believe in the feeling as if she was never upset in the first place. Being around her beloved father, her favourite person, she could never feel upset for all too long anyway.
“Atta’ girl!” Hajime praised, squeezing her small hands and giving her a peck on the forehead, “Can you tell me something, though?”
“Uh-huh…?”
“Did someone help you get here?”
At that question, Rumiko’s eyes lit up as she suddenly remembered the strange but nice man that helped her. Another wide grin played on her face, but it was far more genuine this time, nodding frantically at Hajime who only stared back with a perplexed but amused expression.
Rumiko immediately whipped her head around to check, pointing a finger behind her in their direction, “Yeah! That funny man helped me!”
Hajime frowned at her words, “Rumi…” He warned with a sigh, lifting his head so he could thank and apologize to the man, “That’s not very poli—”
His line of sight followed where she pointed, and…
And… he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not.
Right there, ten feet away from them, Nagito Komaeda, the Ultimate Lucky Student, stood stunned and completely motionless.
His eyes were wide in shock, mouth was slightly agape as his breathing came in seemingly laboured and frankly, Hajime couldn’t say that he wasn’t the exact same. They simply stared at each other for what felt like hours, as if time itself came to a crawl – but only for the two of them.
He can’t move. He can’t think straight. He can’t process it at all. The only thing he’s even acutely aware of is his heart pounding in his ears, and the fact that his friend is finally right in front of his eyes after nearly ten long years.
Eventually, the world comes back to him – his senses stabilize, even if just slightly. Hajime swallows hard, though his mouth is completely dry, and he looks between an eager but confused Rumiko and a shell-shocked Nagito with a near unreadable expression. But he’d always been a hard one to pin down anyway.
Hajime wets his lips, still unable to tear his eyes away as he rises to his feet and scoops up Rumiko into his arms to carry her with his left, her arms instinctively looping around his neck as they’d done many times before. The sun beats down on him and his legs feel like jelly, but he forces himself to calm himself and close the distance just a little. Even the way the sunlight bounces off of the pavement, off of him dressed in nearly all white, makes him look ethereal.
Just one steady foot after another until his face fully came into view.
And then, with a deep breath, he had to break the spell.
“…Nagito Komaeda, huh?” Hajime smiles easily from the depths of his heart, outstretching a hand to meet him halfway.
The other doesn’t hesitate this time; he beams right back at him with something genuine, warmth and fondness shifting into his eyes as he firmly takes his friend’s hand. It sends a jolt through Nagito’s spine and straight to his heart when he realizes that Hajime’s grip was just as strong and affirmative as the first time.
“It’s… really been a long time, Hinata-kun…”
And just like the first time, they hold onto the moment for a little longer.