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When Nagito was younger, he didn’t celebrate his birthday. For years, his birthday was just like any other day. It was like that for Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving—any and every holiday. The foster families he was thrown into usually celebrated it, but he couldn’t find any joy in it himself.
Now, he’s older. He’s in his late twenties, has a partner, and lives on an island, separated from the rest of society. With age comes maturity, acceptance, and growth. Sadly, that also includes being dragged into celebrations with other people against your own will. That includes your birthday.
While Nagito still attends the parties his friends throw to be polite, he usually slips into the back corner and just watches, trying to be anything but the center of attention. His birthday though… It's his day. He’d have no choice but to be the center of attention. Nagito can’t say he enjoys it, because he’d be lying. All the noise and people and obscene amounts of food shoved into his mouth made his head hurt by the end of it.
With all this in mind, on the night before his birthday, he prayed that this year wouldn’t be too extravagant and headache-inducing as last year.
He dreams well. Not the best, but well. He wouldn’t remember it, but that was fine.
Sadly, though, his dream was, quite rudely, interrupted by an obnoxious, sharp beep, making him crack open his eyes and flail his arm stub around until it slaps against a plastic button. With a groan, he rolls over onto his side and grabs his phone on the bedside table, which reads,
10:37 a.m., Thursday, April 28.
Well, fuck.
He shuts his phone and rolls back over in bed, noting that Hajime must’ve already gotten up. It reminded him of his birthday a couple of years back, their relationship still new. Hajime had gotten up early just to prepare an eventful day for him , and him only. Nagito had been so touched back then, he probably cried. Yeah, that seems about right. Nagito grimaces at the thought.
After a few minutes of rolling around in bed, the door to the bedroom cracks open, the hinges squeaking annoyingly. A foot wedges itself between the door and doorframe, and pushes the door open, revealing Hajime holding a tray of food with both hands. He smiles as he walks to his side, carefully placing the tray on the bedside table.
“Well, good morning. Would you mind sitting up?”
“Wow. I expected a ‘Happy Birthday,’ but all right. I see how it is,” Nagito clicks his tongue, a smirk tugging at his lips as he pushes himself up to lie against the pillows. Hajime helps him out a bit, before perching the tray of food on Nagito’s lap.
Hajime chuckles, “And Happy Birthday to you,” he leaves a kiss on the other man's forehead, who only smiles and begins to slowly eat.
Hajime moves to sit beside Nagito on the bed, getting under the covers,
“So. Does ‘Birthday Boy’ have any special requests for his birthday? Perhaps a backrub?”
Nagito grins, repressing a laugh with a mouthful of food. “Nothing in particular. Maybe a trip to Hawaii would be nice.”
Hajime gives a hearty laugh at that.
Eventually, Nagito finishes his breakfast, wiping his mouth clean with a napkin and pushing the tray to the side. Hajime shifts a bit, to sit closer to Nagito,
“No, but seriously. Do you have anything in mind that you’d like to do?” He asks, taking Nagito’s flesh hand and lacing their pinkies together. Nagito hums in thought, letting his head fall onto Hajime’s shoulder.
“I’m not quite sure. Maybe we can go to the library, and just read for the entire day,” Hajime groans at that, Nagito only smiling. “What? Are you going to deny my request?” Nagito remarks, smirking and nudging the other in the side.
“You sure you just want to read the entire day?”
“It sure is tempting. I have a stack of books I need you to read, Hajime. You’ll like them.”
Hajime turns his head to Nagito, to which the latter raises his head and makes eye contact. The brunet sniffs,
“That’s what you say about every book.”
Nagito gives a close eyed smile, “Yet you read every single one, to the end.”
Hajime doesn’t have a comeback for that one. Nagito’s toothy smile grows wider.
The two of them went out together to return the tray to the hotel restaurant, where all of Nagito’s friends wished him a ‘Happy Birthday,’ in their own unique ways. Whether it be a pat on the back or a suffocating hug, he couldn’t repress the grin that came with every single one.
Nagito spent some time with a few of his friends. Sonia, with the approval of Gundham, let him play with the dogs at the farm to his heart's content, he played a few rounds of Cribbage and Speed with Fuyuhiko, spent some time in the garden with Peko, and played the piano with Ibuki, who played the clarinet, and Mikan, who has been learning how to play the flute.
He got up at around 10 a.m., and now it’s 3 p.m. He and Hajime reunited for the rest of the day, grabbing a coffee and moseying their way to the library.
The sun blares down onto the pair, threatening to bake Nagito alive. Nagito squints his eyes a bit, his eyes already starting to hurt. Hajime looks at him,
“You doing okay?”
“Just fine. Let’s hurry up,” Nagito starts walking faster, desperate to escape his fate of becoming a burnt crisp on the ground. Hajime grins, keeping up with his partner.
The two of them finish their coffee once they arrive at the library, throwing the empty cups in a trash can located near the entrance.
Pushing open the doors, Nagito takes a deep breath upon the sight of the plethora of books; neatly tucked into their respective shelves, the plush chair near the back corner on top of an old carpet, with a small table and a wooden saucer atop it. And don’t forget the new skylight they replaced the wooden roof with. They’ve made some changes to the library to make it more comfortable, and easier for their use.
“So, what’s the first book you’ll force me to read?” Hajime inquires, already walking towards the chair at the back. Nagito rushes ahead of him, flopping onto the chair before the brunet could. Hajime stares as his partner smirks at him,
“Don’t forget who’s day it is, darling,” Nagito quips playfully, resting a leg on his knee. Hajime sighs with a smile, grabbing a wooden chair from a table and bringing it over to where Nagito is, seating himself.
“Oh! That reminds me, I actually have a book for you,” Hajime stands up once again with a start, and jogs over to another section. Nagito watches as Hajime searches through a pile of books spread across a table, before picking a light brown one, and returning to Nagito. He passes the book to the other, who takes it with curiosity.
Nagito feels the book, noting that it’s made of leather, and has no blurb or title. He turns the cover over, and on the back of it, there’s writing inked from a pen that reads:
For Nagito Komaeda.
Oh. So this isn’t some random book from the library. Nagito looks up at Hajime, about to ask if he made it, but Hajime is hiding behind a book he probably took while Nagito was distracted, pretending to be invested, when, in reality, Nagito knows that he’s trying to hide out of embarrassment. He smiles a bit, before looking back down at the book, and flipping the page.
He finds himself looking at a younger version of himself. It’s a picture of him, with Hajime by his side, holding his hand, and Ibuki on his other side, hugging him and doing a peace sign behind his head, and the others behind the three. Nagito is laughing in the image, with cake frosting on his nose and forehead. Beside the image, it says the date of when the image was taken,
04/28/20XX
So, that would mean he was twenty-three in the picture. Nagito feels a bit melancholic, looking at the old him, and how unhealthy he used to be. Now, his features aren’t as concerningly sharp. He actually looks soft and warm, not sweaty and anxious. He quickly dismisses the feeling, and instead takes it as proof of how far he’s come. That’s what the others would tell him how to look at it.
Nagito continues flipping through the pages of his past birthdays, some of them being other events, but a majority were of his birthday. He giggles at a few of them, and catches Hajime peeking at him from behind his book, but doesn't lift his head to face him. He was intent on absorbing every little detail of each image and small messages clipped with some of the images. The small messages would either be a dry joke Hajime would make that Nagito would still laugh at, or give some context if something unclear is happening.
Nagito reaches the end of the book, and there is a small pocket with a coin tucked in it. Beside it is handwritten text that reads:
The coin can be used for the vending machines around the islands for Blue Ram, or whatever other junk is stored in there.
Love, Hajime Hinata.
Nagito looks up at Hajime, who has finally dropped the act of pretending to read the book, now drumming his fingers on the cover. Hajime moves his gaze to Nagito, who smiles,
“Hajime. While this is very sweet, wouldn’t this have made a better anniversary gift?” Nagito opens the book again, looking at the pictures and back at Hajime, just to make fun of him even more. Hajime flushes slightly and looks to the side, grumbling. Nagito’s lips form into a toothy grin,
“Dear, I can’t hear you.”
Hajime looks back at him with narrowed eyes, and sighs. “I didn’t know what to buy you this year, so I decided to just make something this year. If you want it on our anniversary, I’ll take it back,” Hajime reaches for the book, but Nagito leans back, snorting,
“No, no, no! I love it! Thank you, darling,” Nagito leans back over the table and kisses Hajime’s nose, who relaxes.
“Oh, and, what’s the book you were reading?” Nagito asks, pointing at the book still resting on Hajime’s lap. Hajime picks it up, scanning over it with distaste,
“No, it’s just a random mystery novel I picked out to pass time. It’s cliché; I already predicted the ending,” Hajime eyes it one last time, before standing up to put it back. Nagito stands up as well, tailing behind Hajime, tucking the light brown book under his armpit. Once Hajime pushes the book back in its designated place, Nagito picks the coin in the book out of its plastic pocket,
“Do you mind if we go find a vending machine?” He smiles, already walking to the doors of the library. Hajime walks to him and loops his arm with Nagito’s,
“Yeah. You wanna head to the beach after?”
Nagito snickers, “We always go to the beach, Hajime.”
“It’s a nice place!”
After gulping down a can of Blue Ram, much to Hajime’s disgust, the two headed back to their cottage to change into more appropriate clothing for the beach. The two of them go to the beach often, either in the day or at night. When they both couldn’t sleep in the days after the simulation, they bumped into each other at the beach unplanned, and enjoyed the sight of the ocean and sky. The beach also held some of their best memories together, and with their friends. It was a beautiful place.
When they reached the beach, Nagito picked up an abandoned bucket, holding it up,
“How about we go seashell hunting?”
“Bring it.” Hajime runs ahead, swiping up another abandoned bucket, and starts searching the sand.
Nagito grins, and looks at the sun. It was starting to set, so it was probably around 8 p.m.. Peko informed him that they’ll cut the cake and give out presents at 9:30 p.m.. Roughly, they have an hour and a half.
Nagito better start digging then.
Nagito rushes over, ahead of Hajime, and starts hunting for seashells. When Hajime would start getting closer to Nagito, he’d collect water in his bucket and throw it onto Hajime, who’d do the same thing before returning to digging, and repeat.
Eventually, when they were both catching their breath, soaked in water and laughing, they came across the same seashell. Both immediately reach for it, but Nagito was faster to react, and shields the seashell with his body.
“Hey! That was my seashell, Nagito!” Hajime yells, lightly smacking Nagito on the back of his head and trying to push him off, all while smiling ear-to-ear.
“Finders keepers, losers weepers,” He laughs, scooping up the seashell and pressing it to his chest, trying to move back to his bucket. “Give up, Hajime. Before I steal more of your seashells.”
Hajime, albeit reluctantly, gets up and walks ahead of Nagito, in search of more seashells. Nagito curls back upwards, grinning in victory.
He allows himself to feel the seashell, and appreciate the design. It’s shaped like a horn, colored a murky gray and spotted with green highlights. If he was going to be honest, it wasn’t the best seashell he’s found, but nevertheless, it was a beautiful find.
But, before he could put it into his bucket, he felt something press up against his back, and arms reach around him to his front, and grip onto the shell. He gasps and drops it in surprise, before realizing that the tan arms were Hajime’s, and they were now reaching for his seashell. Nagito rushes to retrieve it, but Hajime has already gotten a hold of it, and has pulled it back behind Nagito.
“Hajime!” Nagito cries, twirling around to find Hajime with a cocky grin, pulling it farther away from him.
“Weepers are petty,” Hajime laughs, falling onto his back as Nagito climbs over him, trying to pry Hajime’s hands off the seashell. They both cackle, feeling absolute bliss. A few moments later, they’ve calmed down, Nagito draping himself over Hajime’s body, too tired to try and steal his seashell back.
“We should shower and hurry to the restaurant. We’ll be late.” Nagito sighs, covering his hand in sand.
“Since when were we ever not late?” Hajime quips, sneakily sliding the seashell into his bucket before wrapping his arms around Nagito.
“Hajime. We’re, like, twenty-something. Most people are responsible adults at this age.”
Hajime only hums in response, looking at the ocean. They stay quiet for a while, feeling the crisp breeze cause goosebumps on their skin, smelling the salty scent of the ocean, gazing at the dark night sky littered with stars and the moon, vibrant and glowing in their eyes. The scene never looked any less beautiful when he visited—maybe it got even more beautiful.
He didn’t want to think about it, though. Right now, it’s just him and Hajime, him and the ocean, him and the sky, him and the sand. Him and what will soon be a memory in the back of his head, the edges fading as time passes. He wishes he was an artist, so he could paint this scene and never forget it. Never forget the beauty of what is now.
He remembers the book Hajime gave him, and smiles. He definitely should’ve brought a camera, so he could glue this moment with the others.
Oh well. He’ll just have to cherish this moment as much as he can.