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Hajime did not feel like getting out of bed for two reasons.
The first reason was the usual despair of the killing game. Mahiru and Peko’s recent deaths were still clear in his mind. How Mahiru, someone who he got along with quickly and could actually take care of Hiyoko, lay against the wall with her eyes closed and blood pouring from her head. And Peko-God, her execution hurt to watch, Monokuma had went out of his way to make it personal, even getting Fuyuhiko to try and stop it, only leading to his eye getting cut. Thankfully, he'd recovered well.
But the second reason was that he had most likely gotten sick.
His body had felt cold since he’d woken up way too early in the morning. Hajime had pushed himself up, checked the temperature on his nightstand in his cabin and then panicked when it was the same as last night.
Which meant that someone hadn't come in and messed with his temperature.
Which meant he was sick.
He had tried to stand up at some point and had proceeded to almost fall over, lose consciousness and throw up all within five minutes, so Hajime quickly flopped back onto his bed with annoyance flooding his veins.
Of course he had gotten sick during a killing game. Because why not? Why the hell not?
Hajime wasn’t stupid, he knew he should rest and wait for someone to check up on his naturally. But his stubborn side said that he should probably get up and tell someone. So, he stubbornly pulled himself up and thanking whatever god that existed that he didn’t fall over again. (Though he was very dizzy.)
He slowly began to go through his routine, getting dressed, brushing his teeth and styling his hair before pushing his way out of the cabin and heading to the restaurant.
Walking along the path, Hajime heard yelling and arguing from the restaurant, and heard groaned, rubbing the side of his head as a sudden jab of pain twisted through his skull.
Fuck, my head hurts… this better be important.
The restaurant was always in chaos, but today it seemed far more confusing. There were people surrounding Akane, and she seemed like she was crying, but that was it.
I’m not bothered to deal with this...
Hajime sat farther away at a table near the back, not feeling up to grab something to eat and instead tried to make sense on what the hell was going on. The only person who noticed him arrive was Chiaki, who waved casually before returning to Akane.
Well, someone else did.
“Hey, are you okay?”
He stiffened when hearing a familiar raspy voice. Hajime turned to see Nagito standing behind him, holding two drinks in his hand. Nagito smiled hesitantly. “You didn’t get anything to eat, so I got this for you. I know, very useless of me, but I felt like you needed it.”
Oh, thank you.
“Is this poisoned?” Hajime took the orange juice bottle from Nagito’s hand, then paused.
I did not mean to say that. Why did I say that?
Nagito just grinned, pulling out a chair and sitting next to him. “Hmm…nah, poison’s not my style, though I admire the technique. I just got it cause honestly; you look rough. Did you sleep okay?”
The door opened up, with Ibuki sauntering in and followed by a very flushed Mikan, who quickly dragged her to Akane. Hajime just sighed, unscrewing the lid off from the bottle, taking a sip before trying to answer Nagito’s question honestly.
No.
“Why do you suddenly care so much about me?” He bit his lip, cutting himself off. “That was mean, I’m sorry. I think my rational thoughts have just completely abandoned me.”
“Ah, degradation and insults are what I deserve, I don’t mind.” Nagito’s smiled dropped. “But are you okay, seriously?”
Nope.
“I feel like I got run over by a car.”
“Hmm, may I check your temperature? Your face is paler than normal.”
Hajime shrugged. Nagito leaned forward, resting the back of his hand against his forehead.
You're really warm.
“Damn, your hand is really warm...it feels nice...”
“And how do you feel?”
Cold.
“Freezing.”
Nagito pulled his hand away. “Yeah, you definitely have a fever, your skin is boiling. How despairing…”
“Did someone say despair?”
Both Hajime and Nagito jumped as Monokuma practically spawned in next to them. Everyone else in the restaurant quickly turned their heads to face the black-and-white bear as he jumped onto the table.
“My, my, this doesn’t seem good…I wonder what could’ve happened?”
What’s going on?
“Why the fuck are you here?” Hajime asked. In the corner of his eye, he could see Nagito frowned at his increase temper, but he was currently focused on the bear in front of him.
“Now, my dear Hajime, no need for a temper! All will be explained!” His face made what Hajime could only assume was a grin, walking to the other end of the table from the two boys.
"Alright, fess up, the hell is going on?" Fuyuhiko asked.
Hajime tried to listen in to their argument, but a stab of pain twisted into his head. After glancing at Nagito to make sure he hadn't stabbed him, he rubbed the side of his head with his free hand, trying to focus again.
“-To answer your question, three of your classmates have been infected with a disease! Phuhuhu! But not any normal disease of course. Where would be the fun in that? It’s the Despair Disease!”
“D-Despair D-Disease?” Mikan asked. "T-That's not a r-real th-thing!"
“For instance, Akane is afflicted by the Coward Disease, Ibuki has the… Gullible Disease, I guess? And Hajime has the Unfiltered Disease!”
Ah.
So that was why he couldn’t keep his usual impulsive thoughts to himself. He had gotten some weird and probably made-up disease that re-wired his thoughts. Unfiltered Disease…yeah, that made sense.
He vaguely was aware of some people glancing in his direction with worry or concern, but he just focused on Monokuma in the center of the room.
“It’s not like you’re all sick yet!” Monokuma jumped off the table, sauntering his way into the center of the room. “But be careful- sometimes Despair Disease can be passed from person to person, just like a cold, so you better watch out~”
The room dissolved into squabbles and arguing with Hajime choosing to tune it out as his head throbbed again.
So, this is the new motive?
“How is this meant to be a motive? It's so stupid.” He whispered to Nagito.
Nagito sighed. “I must admit that this is a pathetic excuse of a killing prompt. Do you suddenly feel like stabbing someone?”
Not, not really.
“The only one I want to stab is myself. I feel horrible.”
A laugh escaped Nagito’s lips, earning a glare. “Forgive me for finding humor in this situation, but it is intriguing to see how you actually think. Are you truly this pissed off all the time?"
Shut up.
“Of course you’d find this interesting.” He sighed, taking another sip. “You’re weird.”
Nagito just smirked, finally taking a sip of his own drink before he heard Mikan speaking up.
“O-Okay, w-we n-need to take A-Akane, I-Ibuki and H-Hajime to the h-hospital…I c-can look a-after th-them there...”
A… Hospital?
Hajime frowned, earning a side eye from Nagito.
Nope. No way, I am not going there.
They’re going to hurt me. He could feel his leg beginning to bounce as he vaguely saw Ibuki and Akane getting taken from the room.
Why aren’t they scared?
Why am I scared? He frowned to himself, realizing that his hands were starting to shake. I don’t remember anything relating to me being scared of hospitals.
Is that necessary?
“Oh, fuck no. I am not going there.” He mumbled. Nagito turned to him.
“Why not?”
I don’t know.
“I don’t like hospitals.”
“Ah, I understand.” Nagito rested his head into his cheek. “I’ve had my fair share of bad experiences with my luck…I’ve been there too many times to count! There was one time-”
Hajime waved his hand.
It’s fine, you don’t have to tell me.
“Please shut up, my head feels like it’s on fire and you are not helping at all.”
Why did I have to get the disease?
Nagito mumbled a “sorry”, clamping his jaw shut. Hajime sighed, taking a sip of his orange juice again before looking up to see Chiaki and Sonia coming over to them.
"Hello, Hajime!" Sonia waved at him. "How are you feeling currently?"
I'm fine.
"I feel like shit. Do I have to go to the hospital?" He asked, before wincing. "Sorry..."
"It's okay." Chiaki shrugged. "Me and Sonia can walk you there, if you want."
Alright.
"I'm guessing I don't have a say in this?" Both Sonia and Chiaki shared a look before Sonia nodded. "Fine..."
Nagito smiled, leaning forward. "Is this how you feel about everything normally? How fascinating!"
Please be quiet.
"I will throw my orange juice bottle at you if you don't shut up." He hissed at him, before letting out a sigh. "I'll go, just let me finish my drink."
Both Sonia and Chiaki nodded.
</>
The walk to the hospital was taking too long.
Chiaki and Sonia chatted to themselves while Hajime walked behind them, purposely trudging along slowly to avoid the inevitable.
Why am I even scared? I've only been to the hospital a few times from what I can remember.
I shouldn’t be here.
He stopped, his shoes digging into the pathway. Sonia and Chiaki turned their heads, and he could see Sonia ask a question, but his ears didn’t pick up on it at first.
This feels wrong.
Why-Why do I think Mikan’s gonna hurt me?
She wouldn’t, though, she’s too nice-
I need to leave.
I need to run I need to escape I'm going to get stabbed.
“Hajime?”
He blinked. Chiaki tilted her head. “Are you okay?”
Yeah, I’m fine.
“I don’t like hospitals.” His mouth blurted out. “But I can’t remember why.”
He clamped his mouth shut fast before his brain spilled anything else. Stupid disease. Why couldn’t I get something different? Like, I don’t know, a liar’s disease or something? Actually, that would be weird.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of!” Sonia waved at him. “I'm sure Mikan will treat you with respect.”
I know, she's really nice.
“Yeah, cause she’d probably accidently stab herself with the needle.” Hajime blinked, then groaned and buried his face in his hands. “Urgh…”
“Hajime, it’s not your fault you got this disease.” Chiaki reassured him.
“Plus, if you want, I can ask Fuyuhiko or Mikan take you for walks, so you wouldn’t not stuck there one hundred percent of the time.” Sonia added on.
That’s fine, I’ll be okay.
“Just cause I’m freaking out over something that my brain doesn’t remember I need to be treated like I’m soooo special-I am going to tape my mouth shut soon I swear to everything holy.”
“Hold on.” Sonia frowned. “You mentioned that you didn’t remember why?”
I can’t.
“Nope.” He sighed as the three slowly began walking again. “And I’ve got no fucking idea why.”
“Maybe it has something to do with our memories when we arrived at Hope’s Peak Academy.” Chiaki pointed out. “There could be something you’ve just forgotten about, and the Despair Disease is bringing it up.”
You’re probably right.
“That’s really smart. I should’ve thought of that.”
"Don't beat yourself over it." Chiaki told him.
I won't. "I'll try not to."
They continued to walk down the path. Hajime tried to join the in the conversation, but his thoughts that usually stayed hidden kept on floating up to the surface, so he learnt to keep his mouth shut and not say anything.
Eventually, the hospital came into view. Hajime realized he was subconsciously digging his nails into his palms, and winced when he realized he had accidently drawn blood.
Hey, guys?
"I accidently cut myself, do either of you have Band-Aids?"
Chiaki grabbed her backpack. "I have some. Sonia, can you go ahead and tell we're almost there?"
"Of course! Take care, Hajime." Sonia headed down the path, while Hajime held out his palms. Chiaki gently peeled the band-aids, pressing them down.
"Hajime. Are you sure you're okay?"
No.
"It's that obvious?"
She nodded. "Please don't be afraid to ask Mikan if you need some time out of the hospital, okay? I can take you out if you really need it, or you could ask Fuyuhiko and Nagito since they're staying to help her."
Okay.
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
"Alright."
</>
Hajime immediately ignored Chiaki's advice.
Mikan led him down the hallway, muttering to herself. Hajime was carrying the hospital robe that the nurse had thrusted into his palms.
"O-Okay, you'll b-be staying h-here wh-while you a-are sick." She spoke up, her voice causing Hajime to flinch. "I-I need t-t-to do a ch-checkup t-to make s-sure you w-won't a-accidently sl-slip into a c-critical c-condition."
That's fine.
"Do you always stammer so much?"
Mikan stumbled over her legs. "A-Ah! I-I'm s-sorry! Please! P-Please f-forgive me!"
She turned around to face him, but Hajime just sighed.
I'm sorry.
"Can I go to my room now?"
"O-Of c-course!" Mikan quickly opened up a door. "It-It's here, l-let m-me k-know wh-when you f-finish ch-changing."
He nodded wordlessly, slipping inside and closing the door.
Fuck, I'm tired.
"Fuck this stupid disease..." He muttered, looking around the room. Just a generic hospital room-large window with curtains, bed, and bathroom.
On instinct, he went to the window to close the curtains while he changed, but he felt his hand rest against the frames.
Strong. It can be broken if I find something in here-hold up.
He blinked, pulling his hand away. For the love of God, he was not planning an escape, Chiaki and Sonia were right, everything would be fine.
That's what I thought-
Thought about what-
About-fuck...fuck why can I not remember anything at all what parts of my memories are real what parts are fake is everything fake I need to leave-
He bit his lip, walking over to the bed and sitting down, his foot tapping against the floor.
I need to calm down before I accidently break something.
I should get dressed.
It didn't take long, Hajime quickly discarding his clothes and pulling up the rope around himself. He folded his shirt, tie and pants onto the bed before slowly standing up straight again.
He turned around, glancing at the bathroom, deciding to check it out. Slowly, he walked over to the doorway, opening it up and glancing around. A shower, toilet, sink-
A mirror.
He looked in the mirror and quickly covered his mouth, backing out of the bathroom and slamming the door shut.
He's stuck in this gown.
He agreed to that surgery.
He's stuck here.
He can't
He can't get out.
"H-Hajime? Y-You've b-been in th-there for a-ages, a-are y-y-you okay?"
Mikan's trying to help. He looked down at his palms, which had the band-aids from Chiaki. He tried to focus on the feeling of them rubbing against his palms.
She's a nurse, she is just trying to do her job-
Nurses.
Doctors.
Surgeons.
They were here.
There were so many cables and chords and wires dug into his skin, pushing into his veins and burrowing into his blood and he couldn't get them out please for the love of God get them out-
He covered his mouth and barely muffled a scream, which only just seemed to urge Mikan, as he faintly heard the door open up and Mikan slowly walked over.
"H-Hajime...?"
I am fine.
"Get out. Please."
"O-Oh! A-Are you s-sure? I-I feel l-like y-you are p-panicking-"
No.
"I said leave!"
He looked away.
I don't need help.
"You're annoying. And pathetic. So just leave me alone."
Mikan left after that. He didn't know when, because at some point his brain had just shut down. Did he pass out?
But if he did, Mikan probably wouldn't have left him.
Hajime stood up (when did he fall down on his knees?) headed over to the bed. Slowly. Repeatedly. He felt just detached from everything.
This felt familiar.
Why does this feel familiar?
</>
Nagito swung his legs on the lobby chair. Fuyuhiko sat in a chair a few seats away from him, fidgeting with his tie. Neither had really spoken to each other since both agreeing to help Mikan with the infected.
The Despair Disease...Nagito had mixed feelings. He understood the meaning behind it, but it also felt like a cheap imitation of despair. To force someone to act a way they never did felt a bit convoluted.
Akane was now a crying mess, Ibuki would do anything you asked her to, and Hajime couldn't keep his thoughts to himself. How someone could use that to kill someone was where Nagito got confused. The only one who he could see killing someone would be Ibuki, who could be instructed to kill someone. Who would be executed? Ibuki or the commander? And maybe Akane would kill herself from depression? He had no idea for Hajime's disease, but considering how badly he had reacted to coming here, perhaps he would kill just to get out. After all, murder was definitely the only way to cure it. Nagito knew Monokuma well by now.
Okay, never mind. This could actually be fun.
"You've got that look on your face where you're planning shit. What is it now?"
He snapped his face upwards to Fuyuhiko. "I'm just thinking. This disease, it's truly...truly spectacular."
"Of course, you'd think that you fucking dumbass." Fuyuhiko groaned. "Listen, if I'm stuck working with you, I don't wanna here about you thinking about the next murder plans. Hope ramblings are fine, I can deal with those pieces of bullshit, just not that."
"Why not? I'm pretty sure death is the only way to cure this. It's only a matter of time before that despair hits us, so it's best to prepare yourself now-"
He furrowed his brow when there was a scream from upstairs. Both him and Fuyuhiko glanced upwards, before sharing a look.
"If you just jinxed it-"
"I don't think my luck extends that far-probably. We'll have to see."
Both were silent for another few minutes until they heard Mikan stumble her way down the stairs. Her face was flushed, and both dudes seemed to notice her face was slightly wet.
"Ah-okay, a-all th-three patients are resting now." She spoke up.
"Are you okay? Your face is fucking wet..."
"I-It's f-fine! H-Hajime a-accidently s-said s-something m-mean, b-but I'm a-all okay n-now!" She nodded.
Nagito bit his lip. "I'm sure he didn't mean it."
Fuyuhiko also looked slightly concerned. "Yeah, isn't his disease just all his unhinged thoughts?"
"Yes, roughly. I spent some time with him this morning, and he said some very...entertaining things, it reminded me of you in a way, heh...oh!"
He sat up. "He also mentioned something about not liking hospitals, so I was wondering for a favor, Mikan."
"O-Oh! W-What?"
"Do you know if this hospital has any medical records about the students? I wish to know why Hajime seems to be in so much despair."
"You mean fear."
"Eh. That too."
"W-Well, I-I'm not s-sure if I can sh-share th-those?" Mikan mumbled.
Fuyuhiko raised an eyebrow. "Why the hell not? You're the only doctor here, bastard! Not like anything would happen."
"Or. Maybe something bad would actually happen." Nagito leaned forward in his chair, pressing a cheerful smile on his face. "What's to say that not sharing this information leads to a path that everyone would regret."
"H-Huh?"
"Maybe Hajime accidently panics and kills himself after you scared him."
He shrugged casually, ignoring Fuyuhiko's shocked expression and Mikan's face pailing. "You, by accident, trigger something painful that causes an unfortunate spiral. Hajime's lost his rational thoughts. It could lead to him doing irreversible things to his body, and guess what? It would be your fault! That would be an interesting way to get executed-"
"OKAY! FINE!" Mikan snapped. "The files-T-The f-files a-are i-in the front desk on the t-top drawer! P-Please! I-I'm sorryyyy!"
"Why, thank you Mikan! Fuyuhiko, would you come with me please?"
He didn't wait for a response, standing up and heading to the front desk, leaving Mikan behind. He heard Fuyuhiko mumble something to Mikan before following after Nagito.
"What the actual fuck was that? Were you trying to give Mikan a damn heart attack?" Fuyuhiko asked.
"I just needed the information! If anything, you're the one overreacting. Now. Help me?"
"...Fine. But I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing this for the bastard Hajime and also to keep an eye on you." He jabbed him in the arm, to which Nagito just shrugged.
"I'm aware that's another reason why I'm here. That, and no one would truly miss me if I did get infected. Ah, we're here!"
They both inspected the front desk before Fuyuhiko headed to the side, jumping over the gateway with Nagito behind him. After a moment, they found the draw, but there was a slight problem.
"Locked, god fucking dammit..." Fuyuhiko sighed, but Nagito just grinned.
"May I?"
Fuyuhiko frowned but stepped aside. Nagito assessed the lock-just a simple padlock. Easy enough. He formed a fist before punching the lock as hard as he physically could, which, granted, wasn't that strong, but he heard something snap and grabbed the lock, yanking it off and winced when moving his wrist. Oh well, at least his luck worked in his favor.
"There we go!"
"Dude! We don't need another patient here!"
Nagito just shrugged. "I'm sure a simple wrist injury is nothing compared to-"
"I get it, you're so much less than us mighty and powerful ultimates, now shut the fuck up." Fuyuhiko nudged him aside. "Let's just find Hajime's file already." He lifted up two file cases and handed one to Nagito, which he took before sitting on the desk so Fuyuhiko could take the desk chair.
After a quick scan, it was clear Nagito had taken the girl's folder and Fuyuhiko's had gotten the boys. He scanned all the names just to check, before sighing and slipping it back into the drawer.
"Holy shit... oh that son of a bitch."
"Did you find it?"
"Yeah, check this shit out..."
He leaned over the desk. Fuyuhiko's hands were gripped onto a file labeled Hajime Hinata. But the first thing that caught his eye was that the file was clearly corrupted.
All the writing after the first two labels was either covered in pure black squares or just fully scribbled out with a multi-colored pen. At the bottom was a very crappy doodle of Monokuma standing over Hinata's body, stabbed with a knife that bled out.
"Hmm, how odd!" Nagito said. "I feel like the culprit is quite obvious, is it not?"
"Yeah, definitely that fuckass bear." Fuyuhiko sighed. "Looks like we aren't getting any answers from this. Here-I cannot believe I'm doing this bullshit-you wanna take the sheet to Hajime and ask him? I'll deal with your Mikan issue."
"Who am I to deny an Ultimate?" Nagito shrugged. "I can do that. Hopefully Hajime's doing okay."
</>
He wasn't okay.
He twisted the blankets in his hands.
He could feel himself start to panic, his breathing coming fast and short.
His brain was planning escape routes no matter what he did to calm those thoughts down.
The window.
I’m too high up I can’t leave through there.
Then just run for it. The door's unlocked
You have the key to your own doorway.
Mikan and Nagito are too weak they can’t stop you. Fuyuhiko-that's a problem.
But they’re trying to help-
I need to leave-
I need to get out-
His door creaked open. Nagito was at the doorway, holding something in his hands.
"...Are you okay? I knocked for a bit, but you never responded."
I’m fine.
“I need to leave.”
Nagito’s lips pursed into a thin line. “You are sick. While I understand you may not like your current situation, it's best if you remain here."
I know.
“Mikan’s going to hurt me. She-She’s going to put needles into me-She’s going to-”
“Hajime.”
He didn’t remember Nagito walking forward. He lifted his hand, hovering it above his shoulder. “May I?”
He nodded, Nagito resting his hand in the shoulder, causing a shudder to sink through his body. The other man just sat down on the chair next to Hajime's bed, offering a calming smile.
Thank you.
"I forgot that you could act like a normal person." He huffed. He caught Nagito's slight wince, but the other man didn't respond. "Sorry."
"Meh. I deserve it." Nagito sighed. "I have something I want to show you. And since I'm here to help Mikan with the infected, I want you to know about this."
Using his free hand, he dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a half-folded piece of paper. "Me and Fuyuhiko had a little look around for your medical file, since we were both curious on your aversion of hospitals. Which I understand, of course! But ah, we found something interesting."
Hajime took the file from him and unfolded it.
"It looks like Monokuma doesn't want you to know about it. I'm terribly sorry for disappointing you once again."
I should’ve expected that.
“W-What…?” Hajime stammered. He could feel his panic returning, and Nagito’s grip tightened as his hand quickly took the file away, so he didn't tear it. Hajime barely noticed as anxiety once again settled in his mind.
Shove him off.
Run.
Leave.
Get out.
Now.
“Shh…” Nagito’s thumb began to slowly make circles. “Don’t panic.”
Thank you.
“You’re oddly good at this...” He murmured.
Nagito just shrugged. “I suppose I understand why you’re freaking out. Like I mentioned, I've also been at Hospitals plenty of times before. Want to hear my first time at one?”
Sure?
“I don’t mind.”
"My first time was maybe when I was five. Of course, that was years ago, so I can't recall the exact details, but I remember why. I was walking home from my school by the forest, and my luck had me trip over my shoelaces. I fell down the hill and landed in a bunch of brambles."
That sounds painful.
"Is that why you wear zippers on your shoes?"
He nodded. "I kept on tripping so much, eventually my parents just gave some to me and I never tripped again!" Nagito sighed. "Still. The wounds from the thorns eventually became infected and I got taken to the hospital."
As he spoke, he lifted his hand away from Hajime for a second to pull his left sleeve down. There were multiple jagged scars running around his wrist. "It was also my first scar I got. I think. Not sure! But the doctors did have to do some weird procedures. They had to stitch this one up though, and it hurt! They gave me some strange pain medication and then they had to knit it up with a needle-"
Hajime blinked.
Needles.
Needles.
They’re going to dig the needles into my brain.
They’re going to change who I am.
But I said yes.
I can't leave but I need to leave I can't leave but I need to leave I can't leave butIneedtoleave-
“Uhm, Hajime? You're shaking.”
Sorry.
“I'm scared. Why am I acting like this? I can't remember anything.”
He was shaking. The talk with Nagito was making him even more frightful.
“I’m sorry, my story must’ve bored you...”
“N-No-” Hajime could feel his fear bubbling up again.
The doctors are coming again. Shove Nagito aside.
Go.
Now.
“I-I can’t”
“Can’t what?”
I can’t breathe.
"I-I don't-want-to be h-here..."
“Speak to me.”
“I-I need to leave-Nagito-Nagito they can-they-”
He grabbed his chest.
“Why can’t I breathe-”
“Try to.”
“They’re going to get into my head-”
He practically felt himself break.
His face began to feel wet as his knees snapped up, shaking of Nagito’s touch as his breathing began to get even faster. Hajime buried his face into his legs, sobbing while Nagito tried to ask him a question that he couldn't make out.
Hajime whimpered as he attempted to pull away from Nagito.
He was suffocating.
He couldn't breathe.
"I'm sorry."
His voice wasn't his.
"I'm sorry-please-please don't hurt me-"
He felt Nagito once again try to touch him, but he yanked his shoulder away, sitting up again. "No-Don't touch me-"
Everything was shutting down.
His palms were digging into the sheets.
I can't trust anyone.
Anyone can hurt me.
The needles-
They-they were in my brain-
They weren't going to stop-
I asked-
I begged them to stop-
Why won't it stop-
Stop-
"S-Sto-Stop..."
"Stop what?"
"Stop-get-get out-out of m-my br-brain-"
He could feel his vision spinning, but slowly, everything was hitting a brake.
"Can I touch you now?"
Yeah.
"Please-"
At some point, Nagito has hopped onto the bed, sitting at the edge. Slowly, he moved his body around, crossing his legs on the bed and facing Hajime before resting his hand on Hajime's chest.
"Breathe. In..."
Hajime tried and immediately choked. Nagito retracted his hand, about to usher an apology-
Shh. It's okay.
"Shut-Shut up-that was rude-fuck-fuck why can't just I shut up-"
"Try again. In..."
In...
"Out..."
Out...
"In..."
In...
"Out..."
Out...
"Ah, this trick usually never works for me, but tell me three things you can see? That's all I want; we won't waste time with other senses."
I can see stuff I don't want to see.
"I c-can see you-th-the window, and-and the lightbulbs."
"Those are really bright...I'll see if I can dull them down when I leave." Nagito pondered for a moment. "Better?"
Yeah, thank you.
"Your voice is really raspy, I like it."
Hajime's face flushed and he quickly darted away, once again cursing the existence of the disease. Nagito didn't seem to pick up on it, though, just plastering that same stupid smile on his face.
"Ah, how nice of you to say something so nice to someone like me, Hajime! Thank you!"
I didn't mean to say that. Please forget it.
"Nothing ever phases you, huh?"
"Huh. I guess not." He tilted his head. "But are you okay?"
Yes.
"I'm not sure."
"I know I'm probably not the best to help you-"
Stop.
"Oh, shut up. Don't go on a self-deprecation rant, please."
"I though you liked my voice?"
Hajime looked away, forcing his mouth shut.
"You mentioned something about... getting something out of your head." Hajime looked at him again. "Please forgive me for making foolish assumptions about you, but did you ever have a brain surgery?"
Probably not.
"...Not sure. It's not like I remember what's triggering me."
"I think I might, so let me propose my theory. You reacted when I mentioned needles-okay, yeah, that's it." Hajime's whole body tensed again. "So, we just make sure Mikan doesn't use and/or mention any of those things around you. Okay?"
Okay. Can you stay for a bit?
"Yes, please. I want you to say."
"Of course I can help someone like you, Hajime!"
Hajime just sighed.
Both sat in silence, Nagito resting on his bed with his hand on his chest while Hajime just closed his eyes.
"Thank you."
"Of course, Hajime."