#nagizuru

How long had it been since then? So long. Both the creation date and their escapes. But in a strange way, Hajime was glad they had experienced all those hardships and difficult times. For without them, the two of them wouldn’t appreciate the bliss they were living in nearly as much.

Hajime thought this as his one working eye stared out the window in the small kitchen. The garden was visible from here, where all kinds of flowers and plants were growing. Gardening was one of Izuru’s many talents, after all. It would be odd if it wasn’t growing splendidly.

A small smile grew as he recalled the many hours they had spent sitting in the gazebo they had built in the middle of the garden, sandwiches and lemonade in hand while the butterflies and bees flew by.

But today wouldn’t be spent in the garden. No, Hajime had other plans. Hence why he was in the kitchen earlier in the morning. Izuru was still in their bedroom, sleeping away without sedatives. He wouldn’t dare wake him up, even now when they were far away from the Lighthouse’s rubble.

He bent down to check the oven’s window, pleased to see the cake sheets baking nicely. He grabbed an oven mitt and pulled the pans out, sliding them on the cooling rack. They were the perfect shade and smelled amazing. While they cooled, the brunette got busy preparing the whipped cream and cutting the strawberries he had picked yesterday. He focused hard on his task, not stopping until his creation was fully constructed. A beautiful and practically flawless strawberry shortcake. He almost felt bad for cutting into it and pulling a slice out to place on the plate. But he was far more eager to see the reaction, so he didn’t mourn the perfection.

After gathering a fork and a glass of milk, he placed everything on a tray and carefully picked it up. His months of practice came in handy, as the tray remained balanced the whole way to the bedroom. Using a shoulder, he bumped the door open so his hands didn’t leave the tray. Soon enough, he was placing the tray down on the nightstand. By this point, he knew the Ultimate Hope was awake now. “Good morning. Was your sleep restful?”

The red eyes gazed up at him, still mysterious and cryptic, though not nearly as hard anymore. Being free of pain and drugs was most likely the reason. “I can confirm that it was. The aroma of your creation coaxed me back to consciousness. Not that I mind this pleasant method of awakening.”

“I’m glad you think so, si-” Hajime paused, laughing in embarrassment. “I mean Izuru.”

The white-haired man smirked up at him. “Slip of the tongue?”

Hajime scratched his cheek, right under his silk eye cover. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“But they are getting to be fewer and less frequent,” Izuru observed. He sat up, the large shirt he was wearing slipping off a shoulder. “Can you hand me a hair tie, my dear caretaker?” he requested once he had risen into a comfortable position.

The brunette was quick to do so, though he did it with a grin. “That was on purpose. You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

Izuru’s smirk didn’t diminish, even as he began gathering his long hair and weaving the hair tie around the locks. “Observant as always, my dear. Just one of the many traits I adore about you.”

Hajime felt his cheeks redden. He still wasn’t able to hide his reactions to Izuru’s words of affection. “I-I do my best.”

“That you do.” Izuru finished making his ponytail, letting it rest against his back. He then reached forward, tugging on Hajime’s arms. The strength of the tugs had been unexpectedly strong and Hajime found himself falling onto the bed alongside Izuru with a yelp.

“Much better,” Izuru stated as he hugged Hajime to his chest. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

The brunette wiggled only slightly to get more comfortable. “But… don’t you want your cake?”

“In a few moments. Let me indulge myself on this first,” was the reply. A pleased hum followed, along with some shoulder rubs that felt amazing. “Another day of tranquility. One that we earned for our perseverance through the blood and pain. The torture those foolish scientists inflicted while playing God. But I suppose it would be best to not dwell upon such horrid memories. It is beneficial to move on and build oneself back up stronger than before.”

The caretaker chuckled. “That the Ultimate Therapist at work? Putting in overtime, for sure.”

“Perhaps. But I will utilize my abilities for our sakes and lives. And I’m sure you are well aware of this.” One of Izuru’s hands migrated up to his hair, scratching his scalp and conjuring happy noises from the receiver.

“What did I do to deserve this? So nice,” Hajime muttered, relaxing into the comforting touches.

“If you would like reasons, I can compile a list. But be aware that it is a long one. It would take some time to read them all,” Izuru replied with his eternal smile.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll decline. You know how I am with rapid fire compliments.” The brunette relaxed under the ministrations, enjoying every second.

“Oh, I do have something to retrieve. Remain here in bed, okay?” Izuru withdrew and extracted himself from the bed covers, standing up and walking over to his closet. Hajime watched in confusion, especially as the pale man pulled out a giant crocheted blanket with a mandala design. “You are always making things for me, so I figured I could return the favor. It was surprisingly easy to keep my work on this little project secret from you. Though, I am certainly not complaining,” Izuru commented as he brought the blanket over, laying it over Hajime and tucking him in. “The pattern is a representation of our spiritual and physical journey through our lives. That we found our fulfillment after our struggles. Quite fitting, wouldn’t you agree?”

Hajime’s eyes, both functional and broken, widened at the colorful blanket now around him. He ran a hand over the design, admiring the nice material and the quality of the gift. “I… I don’t know what to say… This is…”

Izuru sat next to him, sliding under the blanket next to him. “I already know, so don’t fret. Nothing needs to be expressed.” He leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed the plate and fork. “Now then, how about we try your splendid creation?” The full strawberry on top was speared with the fork and was raised to their faces. “I’ll give you the honor of taking the decoration. You won’t refuse, will you?”

Hajime’s breath was shaky as he nodded. “You know that I would never refuse anything from you. Neither back then, nor now.”

“Excellent. Though there is one condition to get this. You will have to take it from me.” Izuru placed the lower half of the strawberry into his mouth, the thicker half sticking out. And the mischievous look in those ruby red eyes implied exactly what Izuru was insinuating.

Hajime’s face turned as red as the berry. They were about to do this, weren’t they? But he couldn’t go back on his promise, so he swallowed his nerves. He leaned forward and locked lips with the other, the kiss tasting like the sweet fruit. It lasted for several moments, neither of them eager to break it. Eventually, they did separate, the strawberry now in Hajime’s mouth. He focused on chewing to buy himself time to calm down from the rush of emotions. Though this was easily seen by the Ultimate Analyst, if the smirk was anything to go off of.

“Now, I shall taste test your work. Though I don’t doubt it will be fantastic. Thank you for the treat,” the Ultimate Hope said as he cut into the cake and took a delicate bite. “A nice way to wake up and start the day. And here’s to many more in our future.”

Talent.

A vital aspect of the world he lived in. Something that was adored and practically worshiped by all. Something he himself was blessed with.

Though, Nagito Komaeda often thought talent was a curse. Especially his own. The death of his parents and the winning lottery ticket being staple examples of his cycle.

But regardless of how his life had been up until now, he still held onto his hope. Not for him, but for the rest of the world. His worthless self didn’t deserve such kindness. He kept trying to express that to his classmates, who treated him well despite his protests. He saw them all as bright beacons who could contribute to the world with their abilities. For as much as he hated talent, he couldn’t deny the fascination he had with it. It was contradictory and perhaps a bit hypocritical, but he didn’t care all too much about that. He just wanted to help raise his classmates to achieve their fullest potential.

Which is why it had confused him greatly when one of his classmates, Chiaki, had introduced him to someone she called her friend. An average looking Reserve Course student. A leech and waste of effort. How dare he latch onto an Ultimate like that.

Time and time again, he had tried to convince his classmate of the need to distance herself from this Hajime Hinata. Nothing good would come from a friendship with one of his ilk. But she always puffed her cheeks out and insisted that he was a good friend of hers. So he begrudgingly would attend her meetups with this Reserve Course to make sure she wasn’t being tainted.

Which had led to him finding out about the Kamukura Project.

He was sure that he wasn’t supposed to see it. However, his curiosity had spiked when he saw some kind of confidential form sticking out of Hajime’s bag one day with the Hope’s Peak logo stamped on the top. Chiaki had instructed him to watch their things while they went to grab drinks, so he was alone with this file. So of course he gave into the temptation and looked through the file.

A project to try and create the Ultimate Hope by using a person’s body as its host.

Nagito memorized every word and shoved the form back in Hajime’s bag. Then he sat there, lost in thoughts about what he had just read. How would one be transformed into the Ultimate Hope? He read that it would involve surgery, but how far would it go? And if it was successful, would this hope be artificial? And why did Hajime have such a form? It had the headmaster’s name attached to it, so why was someone like Hajime in contact with the headmaster of the prestigious Hope’s Peak Academy?

Needless to say, his curiosity only grew and he had resolved to do some more research about it in the following days.

But he sadly hadn’t gotten much of a chance, as his luck struck once again. This time in the form of a medical report from his last visit to the hospital.

Lymphoma and frontotemporal dementia. And a life expectancy of six months.

When he had read that letter, his first reaction was to begin laughing hysterically, to the point of tears. Of course this was his to be his fate. To die alone in a hospital bed while still a teenager. How pathetic and wasteful. Mother Nature had decided that he wasn’t worth anything and was trying to take him out. But that was not unexpected. He had figured something like this would happen. No use fighting it.

The days after his diagnosis had been bland. Nothing excited him or held his attention. And the fascinating part? No one noticed or asked about it aside from Miss Yukizome briefly in the hallway. He had brushed off her concerns and she let it go fairly quick, proving how worthless he really was.

One day, he found himself listlessly wandering around campus after classes were over. There was no real reason, just a meaningless task to occupy his dwindling time on. Which is how he had happened upon Chiaki and Hajime once again playing video games on the bench near the fountain. Hajime seemed more stressed than usual and Chiaki questioned him about it. Nagito leaned against a tree nearby, listening as Hajime began talking.

“But what if someone else were the Super High School Level Gamer? Every time they left your score in the dust.”

Chiaki was quiet for a second, but then spoke confidently. “There’s more to life than just talent.”

Hajime’s eyes widened, and he returned to looking at Chiaki.

“Miss Yukizome likes to tell us stuff like that all the time. She says that talent is never a guarantee of an interesting life. Making memories with other people leads to hope. And hope is way more important than ability in the long run.”

“Hope…” Nagito muttered to himself. “Hope… is the most important thing. Yes, that’s right.”

He went home after that, his mind consumed with the battle between talent and hope. Which would triumph if such ideals clashed? Which was stronger? He was sure that others, like the headmaster, desired to know this answer as well.

He was then reminded of the form he had seen, about the potential to become the Ultimate Hope. Perhaps he could be of use with that. But if he did enter into the pool of candidates, he knew he would be selected. There was no chance he wouldn’t. He knew how his luck was, especially after his diagnosis.

He was on the fence about it the following day, debating whether it would be beneficial or detrimental to Hope’s Peak if he entered. Would he destroy the project, or become the beacon that the world desperately needed? Who knew? Certainly not him.

But his mind was made up after a conversation with Hajime. Seeing the Reserve Course being so set on trying to be talented lit a small fire in him. One that made him want to prove the opposite to the other. So he walked off, saying his last farewell. And within minutes, he found himself in front of the headmaster’s office. He took a deep breath, clenching his fist before relaxing again.

“I’ll show you, Hajime. I’ll prove to you that talent dooms a person from the start. That your ordinary life is so much better being talentless. That being talented always changes people for the worse. That the only use my talent gave me was the opportunity to be a useful stepping stone. And if I die in the process? At least it was for the greater good.”

He pushed open the doors, stepping inside to speak with the headmaster. To enter into the pool of candidates. To be chosen to become someone new.

~~~~~~~~~~

Izuru came out of his memories after finishing his food. He had not thought of those events in a vast amount of time. The thoughts and feelings that his previous self experienced felt so foreign, yet so familiar to him. It was a fascinating mental dilemma, one that would keep him entertained for hours. But it did bring to mind an inquiry, one that he wished to solve now.

Luckily for him, he did have a source of information right in his room. “Answer me this, my dear caretaker. Have you gotten the chance to observe the scans the doctors have taken of my brain?”

Hajime widened his eyes for a moment, stopping his sweeping. He surely had seen the scans when they were still labeled as Nagito Komaeda, even though he was no longer the owner of his brain. Remembering that name seemed to give him a growing sense of anxiety, but that didn't stop him from answering Izuru's question.

“I had the opportunity to look at those scans, yes. I don't know exactly how to read them, but I know by firsthand that Nagito Komaeda was someone impressive and difficult to understand. I don't think there was another person like him...”

Izuru watched him with a curious look, sensing that there was more to say. “But?”

Hajime gave a shaky breath, as memories of an angry face and bitter insults clearly flooded his mind, and the doubt that had been burning his skin for months finally surfaced. “I just… I just don't understand why he did such a thing. He had friends, he had a future full of opportunities waiting for him. He… he had talent. Why did he sign up? What was he planning to do?”

The white haired man listened carefully, but when he met the caretaker’s shaky hazel eye, Hajime looked as if he was feeling incredibly guilty. “Sorry, I feel like I shouldn't have said something like that to you.”

Izuru began laughing quietly to himself, confusing his caretaker. “You have nothing to apologize for. It is natural to wonder what it would take a person to come to his decision.”

The brunette tightened his grip on the broomstick, no doubt thinking about how he, in the past, was also prepared to do exactly that.

The Ultimate Hope turned his eyes back to the brunette. “The previous identity that hosted this body never told you about what was going on in his life before I was created, did he? I was just thinking about how things might have been if he had known.”

Hajime’s eye widened, clearly interested. “Knew what?”

“That he had been misdiagnosed. That he had never been in danger of dying whatsoever. The poor fool. He threw his life away for nothing.”

Hajime froze, shocked by what he was hearing. “D… dying? That’s why?” He looked off to the side, clutching the broom handle tight. “That’s why… he looked like that when we last spoke. I… had no idea.”

“Both he and I share one thing in common. If we have secrets, none will ever know them unless we willingly give up the information. But the past is not something that we can change, therefore we must not regret it. Maybe there was something more to his intentions, but I see no reason to dwell on my body’s previous owner. Still, I shall not stop you should you desire to,” Izuru stated.

“Thank you, sir,” Hajime replied, returning to sweeping with his practiced proficiency, a bit lost in thought as he cleaned.

The experiment laid back on his fluffed up pillows, sighing as he sank into them. The sedatives were doing their work unfortunately. He again cursed the doctors who forced this routine. He desired to be rid of them, both the doctors and the sedatives. He wanted to feel his body at its full capacity with no restrictions. It was the one thing he was envious of Nagito for. At least he had been free to travel where he wanted, to eat what he wanted, to do what he wanted. No such freedom existed in this hell.

But, this would not last forever. He would not permit for his existence to solely be a lab rat. No, he would get his freedom one day, by any means necessary. And maybe, he thought as he turned to stare at his busy caretaker’s back, he would not accomplish this alone.