Archive of Our Own

When Komaeda Nagito awoke from the Neo World Program, there were a few surprises that confounded him beyond rational understanding. 

The first was the entire “being alive” thing, but he was brought up to speed on that quickly by Hinata’s careful explanations.

His amputated limb, while rather grotesque to look at, was the result of an event that he could still remember in unfortunate detail - so no surprises there. It was the robotic hand that was currently in progress thanks to Hinata and Souda’s combined genius that rattled him. 

And then, perhaps most perplexing of all, was Hinata’s peculiar insistence on acting as his nursemaid during his achingly slow rehabilitation process. There was some rationality to the situation at first - judging by what he could glean from Hinata’s summarization of what his classmates had been doing while waiting for Komaeda to wake up ( inconveniencing others, always ), Tsumiki struggled to embrace her former title of Ultimate Nurse. A scalpel in her hand held a different connotation now.

Even putting aside their past lives as Ultimate Despair, Komaeda knew he hadn’t made a particularly good impression on the others during their “second chance” in the Neo World Program, so - no hard feelings there. Even aside from that, his luck made him a liability to any living thing around him. If others kept their distance from him, it was truly better that way. 

Everybody but one person seemed to have this common sense.

Just as the sun lazily situated itself in the morning sky, right on cue, Hinata pushed open the unlocked door to Komaeda’s cabin with his hip, carrying a tray balanced with assorted fruits, buttered toast, and a pair of mugs that steamed invitingly. It caught him off guard every time Hinata stopped by with breakfast for the two of them, but Komaeda refused to be seen so disheveled and unkempt like the first time Hinata walked in, so he’s also fallen into a rhythm of expecting his arrival and creating a morning routine. Now, he was already dressed and pulled himself into a half-decent state by the time Hinata came around.

Today, Hinata brought for himself a slice of grapefruit and black coffee, a breakfast he seemed particularly fond of nowadays. The bittersweetness of it all brought a little smile to Komaeda’s face as he shuffled next to him on the couch. It was always a surprise when Hinata didn’t instinctively move away when Komaeda sat next to him, but instead greeted him with an expectant look.

“I know this is what you like,” Hinata said halfway through a bite, gesturing to the plate of toast with his spoon, “So you have no excuse not to eat it.”

He was helpless to follow his command and nibble on it, just for Hinata’s satisfaction. “You remembered my favorite.” The fact simmered in his chest like the warm mug of tea that sat in front of him, comforting and warm.

Hinata seemed suddenly interested in his breakfast, running his utensil around the rind and avoiding Komaeda’s gaze . “Yeah, well. We’re low on rice anyways, so might as well - just. Just eat it.”

Komaeda lifted the toast up to his mouth and took a small bite. It was puzzling that Hinata would remember his preferences, let alone bring him a meal whatsoever - but this type of puzzle intrigued him in a way that was different compared to decoding mysteries in the program. While he used to feel like cracking a case in the pursuit of becoming a stepping stone towards a greater hope, investigations and quicksilver words and the speared end of a pendulum, ready to drop at any moment - the burn of this mystery was quieter. Hinata was the only other player in this game, the thrill of the chase was more intimate, the only thing that gave him reason to wake up in the apocalypse and leave the dreams of his programmed sleep behind. 

He took another bite of toast, watching Hinata nod in minute approval. 

Suddenly pragmatic and attentive, something settled over Hinata as his eyes scanned over Komaeda’s body, his personal project. The thought made Komaeda shiver, not entirely displeased with the thought. “You should probably get out more,” Hinata assessed. “You look-”, 

“Like an atrophied worm wriggling in the filth of its sins?”

“...I was actually going to say ‘pale’,” Hinata said, grouching. “I think more sunlight and fresh air will do you some good.” Without elaborating, he brought his emptied plate to the sink and turned on the tap.

“Hinata-kun?”

“Just do me a favor and, like, take a walk or something? Nidai wants me to start this physical therapy regimen with you, but I think it’s a bit… Intense .” A feeling of giddiness rose up his chest as Hinata spoke. Hinata, truly looking out for him! “But as your- I guess your doctor , or something, I do think you need to move around more.” He scrubbed at the dishes harshly, his arms flexing with each movement. He was more muscular now than how he was in the program, filled out in his frame.

Komaeda shouldn’t think it, but - Hinata-kun was even nicer to look at now.

“It’s really nothing you should concern yourself with, Hinata-kun, I’m sure you have more pressing responsibilities than managing my wellbeing-” The rusted faucet whined as Hinata stopped the water to turn to look at him, his brow furrowed. This, Komaeda was well-versed in handling. He could handle annoyance or disdain. This was what was supposed to be normal, how Hinata should really feel towards him-

“Can I be honest with you?” Hinata said, leveling with him. Komaeda nodded, eagerly anticipating the ridicule he deserved. “I am trying my best to keep all of us together, or at least alive. If you could at least even try to do what I say and take care of yourself, that would be one less thing for me to worry about. Can you do that? For me?”

Words failed to escape Komaeda’s lips, caught dangling on his sharp inhale of breath from surprise. Hinata was prickly and demanding, but undeniably attentive and caring . Over and over, Hinata refused to walk out, or realize Komaeda was a lost cause who wasn’t worth a precious moment of his time, and Komaeda almost told Hinata as much. But the intensity and pleading as Hinata asked for him to take care of himself, for him, settled weighty on his chest. He knew, inexplicably, that Hinata won’t go anywhere even if he told him to. So Komaeda didn’t know how to react other than to nod, and the newness of being looked after was ill-fitting on his skin, but it earned an approving smile from Hinata which was a present better than anything he could hope for.

“Thank you,” Hinata spoke softly, “I’ll see you again later, okay? Maybe a rematch in chess after dinner again.” Hinata took a step forward but paused. Tension hung suspended in the air like the thick island humidity, and a sun-kissed shade of pink bloomed on Hinata’s face before he quickly turned and yanked the door open, yet shut it gently behind him.

Greedily, he wished Hinata stepped even closer.

And for a brief moment, one that he would immediately repress into the corner of his heart, he wished he was born without his luck so could have stepped closer, too.

The walk around the island did little to sort out the cacophony of questions and worries that nipped at his heels, but having a task to complete felt good. Komaeda even found himself walking towards the hotel - the kitchen has water, and Hinata would be pleased if he stayed hydrated, wouldn’t he?

As he stumbles his way up to the second floor, stifling wheezing breaths and sweat clinging his shirt to his skin (maybe Hinata had a point of maintaining his stamina), he found Mioda and Hanamura preparing dinner for the evening with scattered vegetables across the table in front of them. Gundam and Sonia had diligently worked to rebuild the dilapidated Jabberwock ranch - they didn’t have the same livestock that existed in the program, but the garden they nurtured with their combined hopes was truly a marvel. 

“Nagito-chan!” Ibuki waved to him excitedly with a fresh carrot in hand, leaves whipping back and forth. “Have you tried some of Hajime-chan’s yummy bread? 

Just when Komaeda thought he caught his breath, it slipped away again. “Ah-” He coughed, trying to feign a casual demeanor. He has been told it’s rarely convincing. “Did Hinata-kun make it?”

Hanamura grunted, eyes downcast on his work. It was a toss-up whether it was because he was focused on his meal prep or because he still couldn’t stand to look at Komaeda. “Hinata wouldn’t get out of my kitchen until it was done.” He peeled the potato with violence.

“I see.” Komaeda felt wrong-footed, unsure of how to respond. “Would either of you like any help with-”

“No, thank you,” Hanamura quickly interjected. The sharp edge of the peel glinted under the midday sun shining through the hotel windows.

Mioda hummed in agreement, amicably cheering “Ibuki’s got it covered!” Komaeda noted that she appeared to be carving a hyper-realistic human face into a sprout.

Best to leave this to the professionals, then.

He refilled his canteen and retreated back to his cabin until dinnertime, the image of Hinata making bread from scratch in the dawn-lit kitchen filling his mind.

The evening passed with typical chatter and occasional bickering as the class enjoyed the vegetable soup, and for once the suspicious glances were targeted toward Saionji rather than himself (her ability to spike unsuspecting broths was not easily forgotten or forgiven). The spoon felt a bit clumsy in his hand, uncoordinated and embarrassing, but Hinata tactfully informed him that the prosthetic he and Souda were working on would be ready to go in a matter of days. And then he placed his hand on Komaeda’s knee, a private, reassuring gesture that seemingly shocked the both of them, given how suddenly the touch disappeared as it was received.

They didn’t talk much after that, not until they settled into their usual spots in the downstairs lobby for their game of evening chess. Picking up and moving the pieces would be good to build coordination in his other hand, Hinata said. The justification was questionable, but the routine was nice. Really, overwhelmingly nice. Now, it was how they ended their days since Komaeda woke up from the program- being together.
 
“Did you go for a walk today?” Hinata asked innocuously, pretending to focus on their piece’s positions around the board. 

“Yes, I even drank some water.” He’s halfway to teasing, and Hinata must’ve been able to tell, because he knocked one of Komaeda’s pieces from the board in retaliation with more gusto than necessary. But he could tell that Hinata isn’t actually annoyed, not really - there’s an expression Hinata makes when he’s trying to seem put-out but the tiniest of an escapee grin tugged at his lips and dappled his cheeks, which nobody else on the island seemed to notice, this little quirk of Hinata’s. And upon further reflection, Komaeda can’t recall if Hinata has ever made that smile for anyone else to begin with.

A precious thing, for him.

Komaeda knew he shouldn’t push the fragile dynamic they have brewing between them. It was confusing but comforting, and Hinata’s easy companionship and compassion were more than he could ever ask for, but he couldn’t help the words that started to spill from his mouth. The desire to shatter the tenuous air like how the World Destroyer shattered the world of his dreams made his fingers twitch.

“ I was wondering about something,” he started speaking, unsure of the destination that his words were even headed for, but paused when contemplative red and green eyes flicked to meet his own. Hinata’s gaze softened into something kind and curious, and just like that, his convictions began to falter.

“Shoot.” Hinata said, prompting.

Komaeda twisted a lock of hair between his fingers, creating nervous tangles in his wake. “I don’t want to say it. quite offensive to your character. And I don’t want to offend you, but sometimes I think I’m saying something completely reasonable and people get angry or upset with me,” he rambled, an uncomfortable giggle trying to wiggle from his throat. “I don’t want you to be angry or upset. The very thought makes me ill. Actually, maybe we should just retire for the night?” Komaeda said, starting to stand from the lobby couch.

Hinata gripped his wrist before he could flee, not-unkindly pulling him back down. “Alright, alright, slow down. You aren’t going to offend me no matter what you say.” Hinata said, rubbing a thumb into Komaeda’s arm where the muscles remained tense around his grip. “Seriously, it’s fine.”

“Do I even need to say anything?” Komaeda breathed out, feeling like a trapped animal. “Sometimes when you look at me, I feel like you’re dissecting every thought I’m having. You already know what I’m thinking, what move I’ll make.” He couldn’t meet Hinata’s eyes, his gaze retreating into the comforting black-and-white pattern of the chessboard. No shades of gray to be found there, no headache-inducing and heart-fluttering ambiguity. “You probably could have had a checkmate and ended this game numerous times already, but you’re letting me move pieces around the board, watching me.”

There was a beat of silence before Hinata sighed in apparent defeat. “You noticed that, huh.” He ran his hand through the short spikes of his hair, smiling sheepishly in a boyishly charming kind of way that made it difficult to stay frustrated with him. “Okay, yeah. You got me.”

“So why?” Komaeda demanded, leaning back in his chair. “Why are we still playing?”

“I like spending time with you,” Hinata admitted, like it was easy. And while Komaeda had never been particularly great at reading people’s emotions, Hinata’s face suddenly looked like he was running through an artillery of a few different feelings before settling on something shy, almost fond. And then looked at Komaeda like the answer was the simplest thing in the world. “I just like you.”

“That can’t possibly be true,” Komaeda balked, and Hinata mirrored his disbelief.

“You think I’m lying to you?”

And Komaeda knew the answer was no , as chasing the evidence underlying Hinata’s vigilant caretaking and understanding the rationale behind the passage of so many wonderful leisurely moments together was what Komaeda was after in the first place- but courting this truth suddenly overwhelmed him. 

When Hinata got up and left after this, Komaeda felt at rights with the world.

When Hinata returned with a cup of tea for him, it sent his heart into disarray again. 

“You cracked the case yet?” Hinata said, quietly pushing the porcelain saucer so that the cup’s handle faced him. 

Mechanically, he picked up the cup and took a sip, the perfect flavors hitting his tongue both shocking and expected. Hinata always paid careful attention to brewing his tea just the way he liked. “I don’t know,” he said, lips burning on the drink.

“I think you do. You look… Worried.”

“What a brilliant observation.”

“Hey.” Hinata moved his hand like he was considering placing it on Komaeda’s knee again, before rerouting and placing it on the table between them. “I don’t want to push you. It’s hard to… To be brave. And face the truth.”

What an understatement. Komaeda nodded in solemn agreement.

Hinata upturned his palm towards him, capable and merciful and strong. “But we can do it together, yeah?”

And if Komaeda placed his hand in Hinata’s own, despite his better judgment and fears- well, he would always be a sucker for seeing Hinata smile.