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Nagito didn’t miss the bumpy roads leading up to her hometown. They winded and weaved around mountains, making her car squeal occasionally. Her earrings swayed from side to side, bumping into her neck whenever she hit a pothole.
“How annoying,” she muttered to herself, doing her best to keep her eyes on the road and not on the scattered landmarks she recognized.
Much to her surprise, the road suddenly evened out from a light gray stone to a black pavement. It’s strange - she thinks to herself - that they actually improved something so drastically in such a remote slice of country.
Still, it was a good indicator of what was to come. As she passed a small county sign indicating her arrival into Jabberwock, her eyes wandered from houses, to small businesses, to the local shopping strips. Each were different from her memories, but she could tell that it was due to upkeep and renovations.
She was…proud of her old town, in a way. A strange feeling settled in her gut as her mind drifted to the many different people she used to know. Was the old bookseller still working with his daughter? What about the old couple at the mom and pop shop on the corner? Her eyes glanced in the rear-view mirror as the town center faded from view. She couldn’t tell if the old man's hand-painted sign was still hanging from the front door. She hoped the old couple were still kicking.
For now, the only thing she could do was move forward. The first step of the process was getting home, which was going quicker than what she had mentally prepared herself for. As the open road thinned into backways, Nagito remembered the numerous drives home with her parents when she was a child. Those were much simpler times - happy ones too.
She couldn’t dwell on those thoughts. She told herself that she couldn’t - not at least until she got herself situated in her house. A sigh left her lips as she glanced at the weedwhacker in her backseat. The thing she was dreading the most about moving was tearing her way through the yard to get to the front door.
It wasn’t like Nagito wasn’t prepared for the state her house was most likely in. There hadn’t been anyone there in the past seven years - at least, not since a few days after her parents' funeral.
No, she mentally berated herself. I can’t start thinking about it.
Her hands gripped the steering wheel far too tightly, and with a glance at her white knuckles she finally released some of the tension in her right hand. Any more pressure from the left one and the machine prosthetic would probably break the damn wheel in half, so she released her hold with that one entirely.
Making a sharp turn past a familiar creek, she finally made it to the ‘higher class’ neighborhoods. The houses were further apart to make room for the huge, pristine yards; likely being kept by landscapers. Nagito drove slowly as she noticed a few girls waving at her car. They held giant cardboard signs in their hands that wrote “Lemonade!” in colorful markers on the front. A little boy sat in a plastic chair behind a table, his hands folded neatly upon its surface. They used a small pickle jar to hold their revenue from the lemonade stand, and it was looking particularly empty.
Nagito’s heart melted at the sight, and she pulled into the driveway to purchase some of their, frankly, disgusting and overpriced lemon juice. With a forced smile on her face she waved the kids goodbye and continued forward, taking note of the mailboxes that looked familiar to her.
Finally, she found the mailbox she was looking for, and she forced her eyes to look upon the messy wasteland that she envisioned in her head. But instead of an overgrown mess of weeds, what she saw was nothing short of a miracle.
The yard was…perfectly kept. It looked even nicer than the one in her memory, if that was even possible. She knew memories and nostalgia tended to blur some things, but…this was something else entirely. The grass was perfectly trimmed - so well that she could see lines, the flowerbeds were full of fresh spring flowers, and even the bushes her family had planted long ago were hedged into their intended shapes.
The first thought in her mind was that she had the wrong house, but there was a clear stone path her father had laid out in front of her, and the driveway was still in its usual winding shape. As she pulled into the driveway - coming to a stop before the garage door - the realization hit her, and a chill went down her spine.
Someone had been taking care of the house for the past seven years.
Her chest tightened. For a wild moment, Nagito wondered if someone was living in the house. She opened the car door in a mad rush and ran to the front door. Fumbling with the keys for a second, she flung the door wide open. What greeted her was the smell of humid wood and a lovely cobweb to the face.
Nagito covered her mouth as coughs racked her body. At least this proved that nobody was living inside, but…who was taking care of the outside? The neighbors wouldn’t have done this, that’s for sure, and the landscapers must have left after the passing of her parents. So who…?
She stepped through the door cautiously, avoiding as many cobwebs as possible to make her way to the garage. The door opened slowly, and she glanced outside just in time to witness a rat eating…something right before it scampered off. Her body shook with chills at the sight.
Turning her head to the right, she found the rod that lifted the garage door, and she gave it a good several tugs. On the fourth attempt, the door finally started to shimmy upward with a groan. Dust fell from the ceiling, and Nagito coughed the whole way from the door to her car again. It didn’t take her very long to get her car inside and shut the door once again. Her arms itched inside her shirt as she took in the state of the rest of the house. Nothing was moved or stolen, at least; not even the drawings hanging on the fridge Nagito made when she was younger.
With a reluctant sigh, she pulled the magnets off the fridge and folded up the drawings nicely. Her journey back to this house was meant to be a step forward. She didn’t want to be dragged down by the past, even if there was nothing inherently wrong with the pictures she drew.
Nagito’s eyes danced from surface to surface, taking her from the kitchen into the dining room. Pictures that made her skin crawl hung from the walls - they were pictures of when she was younger, and a boy. She took them down one by one, and ran her fingers across the ones featuring her parents, and even her old pet dog. Tears threatened to spill, but she told herself they were only there because the dust in the air was stinging her eyes.
Setting the pictures aside, she moved through the other rooms, her gait slow and delicate like a ghost. Nagito eventually made her way to her old bedroom. The decorations were incredibly plain, especially for a fourteen year old. The only thing that stood out to her was an old, unframed picture of her and…Hajime.
Hajime Hinata…
Nagito put a hand over her mouth, a silent tear rolling down her cheek. The picture in her hands was from ages ago - in her eyes, at least. They were only fourteen years old, sitting side by side with their arms wrapped around each other. They were friends at the time, as close as any friends could be. Nagito always hoped they would be something more. She believed that Hajime felt something too, but fear of his parents' scorn and the entire town’s firm religious beliefs always scared Hajime from pursuing more - even with Nagito’s gentle advances.
Still…Nagito wondered where the boy was now. She sighed, closing her eyes briefly as she mourned what was lost. Maybe he moved far away to a big city somewhere…Somewhere that accepted him for who he was, and gave him the confidence to live life as he wanted.
Nagito took a look around and wondered what she was doing. Maybe coming back to Jabberwock was the wrong decision, especially since she didn’t know if the town's beliefs had changed at all. Well…she didn’t need the townsfolk anyway…It wasn’t like she moved back just to socialize.
Speaking of…
Nagito made her way back to her car to bring out her bags and writing laptop. She wanted solitude and inspiration for a new book she was writing, and she hoped that the nature around the area would help her.
Not only that, but she truly needed to get away from her extended family and…her.
Nagito subconsciously curled her lips into a sneer at the thought of that woman. Now was not the time to let thoughts like that linger, though. She had things to do.
Setting her things on the kitchen counter, she breathed a sigh of relief and assessed her situation. Regaining the power in the house was a necessity…as well as getting her garbage and recycling in order…not to mention the cleaning involved…
She let out a heavy sigh. This was going to be a long day…
+++
The first day was as physically and mentally exhausting as Nagito imagined, and she threw herself onto her parents king-sized bed happily until a large cloud of dust appeared with the motion.
The next day she spent unpacking, cleaning, and shopping for necessities. Most importantly, she stocked her fridge with food after shopping at the local market. The only benefit to keeping herself this busy was how the exhaustion let her sleep blissfully.
A few days later and the house was finally starting to look habitable. Nagito had to use an old sweater as a face mask just so she could move around the house without coughing up a lung, and opening the windows did her no favor now that all the dust could move around freely.
The day following allowed her some free time that she could finally set up the wifi and begin working on her novel. Inspiration still hadn’t come to her, but setting everything up was a good start, right?
It wasn’t until a few more days had passed that Nagito’s peaceful existence was disturbed. She was sitting at her desk in the upstairs office when she noticed a figure moving through her yard.
They were a boy about Nagito’s age, with a plain white tee on his body and black working gloves on his hands. It must have been the person taking care of the yard, her mind helpfully supplied. She noticed a truck parked along the street, with a trailer attached to the back. An old riding mower was strapped down to it, along with some weedwhackers, a shovel, and a chainsaw.
The boy moved with practiced steps, going to the side of the house to pull out a gardening hose. He fidgeted with the hose attachment for a moment before using it to spray the shrubbery and flowers lining the yard and planter boxes. Nagito watched in fascination as he moved onto digging up an old flower patch near the driveway. He walked to the trailer to grab a shovel, then used it to lean on as he stood before the flowers. Nagito assumed he was debating something in his head - maybe determining what he was going to replace the dying plants with. After a short while, the boy used a powerful stomp to the head of the shovel to break through the dirt and get to the flower roots. The muscles in his arms flexed as he lifted the dying plant, and Nagito had to remember not to openly gawk at the stranger’s biceps.
The boy moved to the back of the house, and Nagito’s view of him was cut off as she assumed he was dumping the old plant in a heap in the forest behind her house. That was usually where Nagito’s parents told the old landscapers to throw away the old tree branches and pruned bush stems. Now that she thinks about it, didn’t Hajime’s dad work as a landscaper for a few years…?
Her heart beat a little faster in her chest as she anxiously awaited the landscaping boy to come back to the front yard where she could see him. Mercifully it didn’t take long, and with long strides he moved to the bed of his truck to grab a new bag of mulch to fill in the hole. He pulled a pocket knife out of his back pocket and cut a clean line on the top of the bag, spilling its contents out onto the flower bed and using his hands to smooth it out. It seemed to Nagito that he didn’t have any flowers to replace the dead ones with. How lazy of him, she mused to herself playfully.
Just as the boy took one last scan of the yard and Nagito believed he was about to leave, she saw him spot something in the driveway and walk over to inspect it. From her place on the third floor she couldn’t make out what he saw. She leaned in closer to the window and almost smashed her nose on the glass in an attempt to gauge what he saw. A bright glimmer of light coming from the object in his hand caused Nagito to gasp.
It was one of her iridescent hairclips.
The boy’s head jolted up - his eyes scanning the area like he was looking for something. With the clip still in his hands, he faced the front of the house and started looking in each of the windows for any sign of life. Nagito gasped as she ducked behind the wall. They had almost made eye contact. Her heart fluttered. She recognized the boy’s face.
Hajime Hinata.
Of course Hajime would grow up to be ridiculously handsome, Nagito thought to herself hopelessly. What was Hajime still doing in Jabberwock? Part of her was mourning the fact that Hajime hadn’t moved on - hadn’t gone somewhere where he could meet new people and discover himself. The other part of her…well… She was giddy and heartsick - in equal parts. Anxiety and admiration made her want to throw up.
Seeing Hajime again like this; was it good luck, or back luck? She didn’t have an answer.
After a few heart-stilling moments, Nagito dared to peek out of the window again. Hajime was staring at the front door - hairclip still in hand. Was he…going to ring the doorbell…? Nagito clutched at her chest. She wasn’t ready to meet Hajime again like this! What would he think of her now that she was…well, different from the person in Hajime’s memories?
Nagito couldn’t bear facing him if he treated her differently than he used to.
Ding-Dong, Bing-Bong
Her mind raced in circles. Could she just…ignore Hajime?
No, that would be rude. If he looked in the garage window he could clearly see her car parked there, too.
Was she even presentable?
Nagito looked down at herself and saw a frilly white blouse with lace at the top that gave her an old-timey, Victorian mistress look with some black, high-waisted wide-legged jeans to match. She was feeling experimental that morning, and wanted to wear something more… professional as she worked on her new novel.
Well…it could have been way worse, she reasoned. At least she did her makeup that morning. She tapped her bottom lip with her index finger and hazarded a guess at how much lipgloss was still clinging to her skin.
With a heavy sigh, she made her way down to the first floor. She clicked her tongue as she watched her bare feet pitter-patter down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she slipped on a pair of black flats and calmed her breathing before opening the door.
Before her stood the sun-kissed visage of Hajime Hinata. He was even more handsome up close, Nagito realized. His hair was still the chestnut brown spikes she remembered, but the ends were slightly lighter in color - probably due to all the sun exposure he had. His brows were drawn in and his mouth curled down in an uncertain frown. It was an expression all too familiar to Nagito. It made her stomach queasy and her heart do summersaults.
His expression shifted once the door opened completely - revealing Nagito entirely. His face went from stunned, to unsure, to polite in a myriad of confusion. He opened his mouth once then closed it quickly.
Nagito stole the first words of the exchange. “Hello, you’ve been taking care of the yard? All these years?” She greeted and questioned him genuinely.
“Y-Yes ma’am,” Hajime said politely. Nagito recognized that tone - it was one that he used when he was around someone he didn’t know, or when he was around Nagito’s parents. Did he…really not recognize Nagito? His shoulders were so stiff, and Nagito noticed a bead of sweat start to roll down his forehead. If it was from the hot weather or his own nervousness, Nagito couldn’t determine.
“Can I ask why you would do such a thing?”
“Um, my father was actually employed by Mr. and Mrs. Komaeda, and…I took over their work.” He admitted. Nagito raised her prosthetic hand to rest her pointer finger against her chin in thought. Hajime followed the motion, his eyes unmoving from the prosthetic until Nagito spoke out once more.
“But the landscapers were let go years ago, were they not?”
Hajime wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his gloved hand. “Well, that’s what everyone assumed. My parents kept getting paper checks in the mail though, even when they didn’t work. They continued to work on the yard for a couple years, but…They wanted to move somewhere new. I guess they figured that nobody was coming back, but…I stayed behind and I just couldn’t let the yard fall apart.”
Huh, that was strange. Nagito would have to look into the reason why there were checks still being sent to Hajime. There really were a lot of things she started neglecting after her parents’ passing. “So, you stayed behind and worked here out of guilt because of the checks? I had no idea they were still being sent. I’m really sorry to do that to you.”
“No,” Hajime shook his head. “We weren’t exactly sure if it was silent instruction to keep the yard kept for in the absence of its owners, but obviously we had no one to report to. We…technically could have done something to stop the checks being sent if we wanted, but…I didn’t want to. Maybe it was out of habit, or loyalty - I’m not really sure. I just…didn’t want to see this place fall apart. Mrs. Komaeda always loved the flowerbeds. I wanted to honor her memory with my work, even if no one could see it,” he scratched at the back of his neck sheepishly. Nagito could feel the sincerity in his words.
Fuck. She could feel her eyes starting to water.
“Hah,” she laughed shakily. “That’s…so like you, Hajime.”
Hajime’s eyes, which wandered for most of the conversation, finally locked onto Nagito’s. Their gazes met for what felt like hours - each were searching for something in each other. Hajime must have found what he was looking for first, and suddenly his body radiated an air of relief.
“It’s you,” he said, voice filled with awe. “Na- ah, uh,” he cut himself off. “What was your name again?” Hajime smiled bashfully, and if it weren’t for the sun already turning his cheeks red, Nagito would believe he was blushing because of her and not the heat.
Real smooth, she thought to herself. A smile tugged at her lips. “I still go by Nagito, Hajime. Though, I would really like it if you'd continue to call me ma’am.” Feeling elated, she gave him a wink. Hajime looked away briefly, a wobbly smile adorning his features.
“I’m so glad it’s you, I…thought I was going crazy,” Hajime laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I saw you and just kept thinking that you must’ve had a twin sister that I just didn’t know about or something. Or…I knew you had a cousin. Someone who looked just like you, but different. It didn’t make sense to me otherwise.”
He glanced at her again tentatively, as if he was still afraid that this was all too good to be true. “I told myself that there was no way it could be you. It just felt too cruel - to be out here every week mowing the lawn, caring for the flowerbeds…just…working for someone who had your face but wasn’t you.”
Nagito’s heart could have shattered. The honesty in his voice was pure relief. They were finally here together again after so long.
“Do I look like a ghost to you, Hajime?” she asked quietly.
He gave a short laugh in response. “Kind of, yeah. You have the outfit for it and everything.” His grin widened, sheepish, but with a hint of his usual playfulness underneath.
Nagito sputtered. She looked down at her Victorian-eque shirt. Hmm…touche. You got me this time, Hajime…
Nagito wasn’t sure what kind of expression was on her face, but whatever it was it made Hajime hold up his hands in defense. “H-Hey I was just kidding. You look…really nice in that outfit.”
“Nice?” She blinked. “You really think so?”
“Of course,” Hajime assured. “I don’t even think it's just the outfit, actually. You just…look really nice. Happier, too. I don’t know, does that sound weird?” He was starting to doubt himself when Nagito just stared at him with owl eyes. “You look like yourself, Nagito. Like you’ve grown into who you want to be.”
It was Nagito’s turn to blush, but she refused to look away from Hajime. “I still have some figuring out to do, which is partially why I decided to move back here. But…I am happier. Thank you, Hajime,” she smiled til her eyes crescented. “Your words have always meant a lot to me.”
“I’m just glad you remember me," Hajime said with a small, reserved laugh - though relief still lingered in every word. “I never imagined that I would have much of an effect on other people’s lives much.”
Nagito shook her head. Those words didn’t sound like Hajime. If anything, it sounded just like something Nagito would have said herself back when she was younger.
It seemed like Hajime was going through his own struggles. It made Nagito feel sour. The thought of Hajime hurting made her want to stop that pain. “I could never forget you. You were one of the few people who ever made this place feel like home.”
That seemed to catch him off guard. He blinked, looking down for a brief moment before clearing his throat. “W-Well, if you really think that way about me, maybe I could help make it feel like home again by, uh…showing you around town. That is, if you haven’t already been around town yet.”
Nagito tilted her head slightly.
He rubbed at the back of his neck, nodding his head in the direction of town. “You’ve been gone a pretty long time. Things have changed - more than what you might realize. There’s new stores, and a bunch of new faces. Lots of…interesting faces. I could… show you around. If you wanted, at least."
Nagito blinked once, then laughed softly. “With Hajime Hinata as my tour guide? I’d be honored.”
He chuckled. “Well, something like that. Can’t say I’ll be very good, but I don’t want you to have to go it alone. I know how much that sucks.”
“Alright, Hajime. I’d like that.”
He grinned, a little bashful again, and nodded toward the driveway. Nagito could sense that Hajime had lost some of the confidence from his youth. She wondered, again, what happened to him. “Alright, then it’s a date! Uh, not a date date, I just meant that-”
She let out a quiet laugh, saving him from stumbling through his own sentence. “I know what you mean, Hajime. It’s alright.”
But as Hajime turned his back toward the yard and left for the evening, she couldn’t help but think that she might prefer an actual date with Hajime…
+++
Since reconnecting with Nagito, Hajime would show up at Nagito’s house every Friday without fail to do his yardwork, then offer to take Nagito out around the town. Nagito always looked forward to those days, and she’d spend far too long getting herself ready. Her hair had to be done up, her nails freshly painted, and her makeup matching the outfit she picked for the day.
Their outings weren’t technically dates - mostly due to the fact that they consisted of Hajime introducing Nagito to the townsfolk and some of Hajime’s friends - but they made Nagito feel special. She couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach every time he called to her from outside her window.
‘Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.’ Nagito left her window open so she could hear him clearly. When she’d make it down to the first floor, he would ask her why she insisted on working on the third floor of her house. She would always give him a different answer each day.
‘It’s quieter on the third floor.’ ‘I do my best work up there.’ ‘Maybe I just like to make you wait for me to get down here.’
Hajime never called their outings anything special, and he would apologize that he couldn’t be a better guide, but he would tell her something like ‘Come on, I’ll show you something new,’ and it would easily become an incredible night full of fun. To her, it meant everything. It was the way he smiled at her when she stepped outside, the way he would open the truck door for her even though she told him he didn’t have to…
She would sometimes lose herself in the fantasy of a domestic life with Hajime that she’d have to snap herself out of.
Hajime was too sweet to her. Too kind, too earnest. He talked about the town as if he were trying to sell it to her. Starting from one end of a block, he made sure to introduce her to the people in every building. He took his role as tour guide very seriously.
“This is Nagito,” he’d say. Sometimes when introducing her, he would put a firm hand on her shoulder. She loved it when he did that - she would slightly melt into the warmth of his palm. “She just moved back to Jabberwock. Her parents used to live by the creek.”
Every time she would meet someone different, she promised to remember them to the best of her ability. Hajime wasn’t lying about their eccentricities, but Nagito quickly realized that she would rather them be themselves than a stale, boring state of who they aren’t.
The only area that Hajime was less than enthused to show Nagito to was the local restaurant. When she questioned him, the only thing he could say in response was -
“I don’t trust the chef to keep his filthy remarks to himself.”
They avoided the restaurant that day, but as luck would have it, when Nagito was traveling through town to get a coffee the next day, she had the opportunity to meet the chef in question. He was…admittedly…full of filthy remarks.
She decided not to tell Hajime about it…
Because of Hajime, Jabberwock didn’t seem as small or suffocating as she remembered in her youth. It felt more…alive. Even though everyone knew each other, she didn’t feel secluded because of it. They were incredibly welcoming, and Nagito had to stop feeling unworthy of their affection.
Sometimes when it was just her and Hajime alone, she caught herself watching him instead of listening to whatever story he was telling. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in what he was telling her, but the way the sunlight caught in his hair and the easy grin he wore always stole her attention away. He was so open - no judgment, no hesitation. It made her feel lighter…safer. He was every bit of comfort she received when thinking about him back then to now - even more so than in their youth.
But no, they weren’t going on dates. Not officially - no matter how much Nagito wanted it. But when he looked at her - like he can’t believe that she’s back in his life - it was hard to tell the difference.
One Tuesday afternoon, Nagito was paid a surprise visit by Hajime. When she opened the door, he was slightly hunched in on himself - as if to make himself seem smaller - and he held something wrapped in aluminum foil. He gave her a bashful smile and handed a round, glass dish to her. She took it from him carefully since she wasn’t wearing her prosthetic at the time. She wasn’t exactly sure what to make of it until he spoke up.
“I, uh, made this for you. Fuyuhiko gave me a shit ton of apples that Peko was going to use for sword practice, but I guess she didn’t want all of them so…he decided to give them to me.” Hajime shoved his hands in his pockets and gestured to the pie using his shoulders. He started backing away from Nagito’s door. “Apple pie, that’s…what it is. Let me know if it’s any good. If it’s not…I’m sorry.”
Hajime kept backing away toward his truck. Nagito called out to him. “Hajime, wait! Why don’t you come inside-!”
But Hajime was already gone. He turned around and bolted to his truck, turning on the engine and driving away - leaving Nagito with a dumbfounded look on her face and a pie in her hand.
“...”
She turned around and closed the front door with a kick. Sliding the pie on the kitchen counter, she plucked the foil off the top and gawked at the sight of the pie. Right in the middle of its top crust was a cute little heart cut out in the middle. The crust itself was sprinkled with powdered sugar. The gooey inside peeking through the heart-shaped hole made Nagito’s mouth water.
How sweet, she thought to herself. Was this what he was so anxious about? Was he just trying to be cute, or… was he trying to be romantic? Nagito’s brows furrowed - it was hard to tell with Hajime. She wanted to shake him by the shoulders and knock some sense into him. When would he just properly ask her out? He had to feel the same way as her…right?
God, she hoped so.
+++
As the weeks flew by and Nagito continued to hang out with Hajime and the rest of the Jabberwock residents, she decided that she needed to keep herself busy with a secondary job. Her book was coming along nicely - especially after a few of Hajime’s recommendations for her. It was moving along comfortably after she set a schedule to pace herself. Her main genre was fictional mystery, but somehow it ended up with a love side plot. She couldn’t help it - her mind just started to come up with all sorts of ideas for the plot. Not due to any handsome crush of hers…
Yeah, definitely not.
Her first attempt at finding work didn’t go as well as she initially expected. She tried helping out at the old diner near Main St., but quickly learned that a fast-paced environment wasn’t for her. After spilling far too much coffee for a single person and a collision with a waitress carrying a tray of food, she decided to try something new. Perhaps the only good thing that came out of that job was Hajime doting on her for a week after she scalded her arm with a hotplate.
Next up was the antique store - a dim little shop that smelled like wood and cigarettes. She thought it might be just as peaceful as her own house, but her social eccentricities and lack of antique knowledge didn’t make her a very good saleswoman. Her prosthetic and weak constitution also hindered her from moving any of the large items, so she couldn’t work behind the scenes either. Reluctantly, she had to hand in her notice to the boss.
The third and fourth attempts ended up all too similar…
By the fifth attempt Nagito was ready to give up already. But then she got a tip from Mikan, who said in her own way that the bouquets that family members would bring their patients were always beautiful. She said that Nagito might be suited to work at the flower shop beside the shopping plaza. It was quaint, but still bold enough to attract customers. As luck would have it, the owner was hiring part-time.
And so, Nagito found herself surrounded by house plants and flowers - ranging from anywhere between conifers to camellias - trimming stems and tying ribbons. It was slow and quiet work that required a lot of patience, but it was something Nagito could appreciate. It was rewarding work. Flowers don’t expect anything except for some attention once in a while. Making them grow into something beautiful was something that resonated with her.
She’d been there for about two weeks when Hajime first walked in. She hadn’t told him about her newest job.
The bell above the door jingled, and Nagito looked up from a graduation bouquet she was arranging. She swallowed her prepared customer greeting upon seeing him.
Hajime stood there, looking nervous as his eyes darted around the shop before landing on her. “N-Nagito!?” His exclamation had a weird tone to it - like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t be. Regardless, he smiled at her once he recovered from the shock. “Is this a new job of yours? What brought you here?”
Nagito shrugged, her hand lightly carding through the flowers in her bouquet. She brushed a stray petal from her blouse, speaking to him leisurely. “Mikan suggested that I work here. I happen to enjoy it, actually.”
He laughed softly, stepping closer. “You look good here,” he said. The light filtering from the window hit Nagito’s hair just right - making the white color shine like a halo.
“You think so? The owner of this place says I’m doing a good job, but I don’t know if I can believe her. My taste in arrangements is lacking. Maybe it’s the color picking.” She looked down at her graduation arrangement, scrutinizing it.
Hajime walked up to the counter. “It takes time. For what it’s worth, I don’t think that bouquet is lacking. Actually, since you’re here, can you help me pick out some flowers?” His voice raised slightly with his last sentence. He was nervous again, Nagito could tell.
However…It was eating her up inside that Hajime was in the market for some flowers. She could understand buying seeds or potted plants - especially for his landscaping business - but certainly not pruned flowers. Just what was the purpose of buying a bouquet of flowers at this time of year? Nagito thought about each of Hajime’s friends - whom she considered friends now at this point too - but was coming up blank. No special events or birthdays were coming up…
She forced a small smile, decidingly not focusing on the uneasy feeling in her stomach. “I would never say no to Hajime,” she said, straightening the apron tied around her waist. “What’s the occasion?”
Hajime hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “Ah…n-nothing. Do you need to know?”
A muscle in her eye twitched. “Well it certainly would help me decide what to recommend you if you give me more information!”
She hadn’t meant for her voice to come out so loudly, and Hajime seemed to be taken aback slightly. “T-That’s true. But…there’s no occasion. I’d like to put them in a mason jar in my house, I think.”
There’s no way that’s true. Nagito can just smell the deceit on him. He isn’t a good liar and he never was, but she nodded slowly, not pressing further. They moved together through the rows of flowers. They walked by different kinds of daisies, carnations, lilies, and… roses. Nagito pointed out combinations with a quiet professionalism, her voice prim and to the point. Hajime stopped her midway through a recommendation to tell her that she sounded really knowledgeable. He also stated that she sounded ‘kind of adorable’ like this - and it was hard for Nagito not to feel flustered by his statement.
“Here. Try these,” she said quickly, handing him a few pink dianthus and white roses. “They’re cheerful without being too much. Kind of like you, actually...”
“O-Oh, is that so?” Hajime laughed bashfully, his cheeks turning red. “I’ll take these flowers, then. Thank you, Nagito.”
Nagito smiled and waved him off. He hesitated with the flowers in his hand slightly before turning to leave. It was a strange occurrence, but maybe Hajime really did just want flowers for his house. Unfortunately for Nagito, however…
He came back the next day. And the day after that.
Each time, he would ask for just a few different flowers - and he would need Nagito to pick them out. She ended up asking him why he didn’t want to pick the flowers himself - they were for him afterall - but Hajime would become avoidant with his answers. The way he avoided her eyes when they spoke about the matter told Nagito everything.
By the fourth day she stopped meeting him halfway through the store. She busied herself in the back or trimmed stems that didn’t need trimming or pretended not to notice when the bell over the door chimed. She knew that she was being slightly petty, but the thought of Hajime not being truthful with her hurt. The thought of him buying flowers for someone else hurt even more.
“Afternoon, Nagito,” Hajime greeted her, his voice in its usual, casual cadence. “You, uh… got any more daffodils?”
She didn’t turn around. “Out of season by now, Hajime,” she muttered. Somehow she kept her hands steady even though her chest felt like it was being constricted.
Hajime lingered a little too long around the store that day. For the first time Nagito felt like she didn’t want to see him anymore. He eventually paid, thanked her, and left with a few flowers in his hands. Even on Nagito’s day off, the shop owner informed her that he came for more flowers.
Their strange dance of Hajime coming in, Nagito half ignoring him, and Hajime buying flowers and leaving went on for a few more days until Hajime must have finally realized that Nagito wasn’t too pleased with seeing him. This was made official when Hajime knocked on Nagito’s door on their usual Friday night, and Nagito stubbornly didn’t answer.
It was the first time that they did not go out on a Friday night together.
Hajime came to her house the next day, and Nagito - feeling incredibly guilty from the previous day - greeted him at the door. She even allowed him to see her without any makeup on, and with no prosthetic. Completely vulnerable - at least, that’s how Nagito felt. The first words out of his mouth, however, was about more flowers for his ‘house’.
Nagito slammed the door in his face.
She reasoned with herself that if Hajime wanted those flowers for his house, then his house should be pretty damn full by now. Plenty full. And if he was actually going to surprise Nagito with the flowers he was purchasing, he would have already given them to her by now. So then, the only explanation is that Hajime is courting someone else. Romancing them with these flowers, or whatever…
She decided to ask for advice from some of her new friends during a ‘girls night out’ that Mahiru and Hiyoko planned. Truthfully, the ‘girls night out’ ended up being more of a ‘girls night in.’ The photographer planned everything cordially. The snacks were already prepped by the time she got there, the drinks were lined up on the counter, and an assortment of blankets spread out and strewn across the living room floor. Hiyoko was attached to Mahiru’s hip the entire night, listening to her every command. She even took Nagito’s jacket for her at the door. They all waited for the last girl to arrive - a sleepy Chiaki who brought her gaming console and a bunch of old party and local co-op games.
They all crowded around the tv, with light coming from the flat screen and a few lamps nearby. Most of the games were a race for second place since Chiaki was far better than most of them, but none of them minded. Hiyoko giggled maniacally every time she managed to beat someone at a mini-game - especially if it was Mikan. The night was fun and surprisingly domestic. It was something Nagito hadn’t realized she needed, and she tried her best not to ruin anything.
After games, they went to the kitchen to cook something together. Mahiru took charge, explaining how she got the recipe from Teruteru - to which everyone made a strange face - and she needed everyone to perform different tasks to get the dish done. Peko chopped vegetables, Chiaki melted down butter and garlic in a pan, and Nagito stood quietly by the counter - handing off ingredients to whomever needed it at the time. It didn’t take long until Sonia was tasked to watch over Chiaki, who started dozing off while stirring the butter. By the time everyone sat down to eat, they were hungry.
They all began talking about what’s going on in their lives at the moment. Even Mikan and Peko were guided into the conversation, although Peko insisted that she had no story to tell and no gossip to share. After they refilled their bowls, it was technically Nagito’s turn to speak, and found herself talking about her current situation.
She started off casually, telling them about how someone had been buying flowers from the shop a suspicious amount of times lately. Then she mentioned Hajime’s name, and the table immediately went still. Mahiru raised a brow, Chiaki’s eyes flicked up and around the table, and Sonia continued smiling politely just like she had been for the rest of everyone’s stories.
“So…what? You think he’s dating someone?” Hiyoko asked, resting her chin on her palm. “He probably is. Ouch!” The table shifted abruptly right before Hiyoko’s exclamation, and Mahiru rested her elbow on the table innocently. She definitely kicked her under the table…
Akane shrugged, taking a break from stuffing her face. “Mmph- I think you’re taking it all wrong. Hajime is Hajime. He would have told someone if he was dating. ‘Certainly’s not dating one of us, right guys?”
“Yeah,” Chiaki murmured, a slight look of irritation on her face. Irritation for who or what, she couldn’t say. “You shouldn’t worry about it though. Trust me on that.”
Nagito frowned slightly, losing her appetite for the seconds she had in her bowl. “So do you truly believe the flowers don’t mean anything?”
Mahiru hummed to herself. “I don’t know. It’s not like he isn’t romantic or sappy. Remember the pride parade a few years back?”
Chiaki frowned, a low sound in the back of her throat. Hiyoko paid her no mind as she snorted. “Oh, that was a mess. I still can’t believe he actually went holding that massive bi flag like a massive dork. I thought he lost a bet at first and someone told him to do it.”
Nagito blinked. “He’s… bisexual?” She brought a hand up to her chest.
Her heart was bursting with an overwhelming feeling of pride for Hajime. Years ago, when Nagito and Hajime went on a camping trip together, they sat under the stars and watched the sky together. Nagito could tell something was eating at Hajime that day, so she asked him what was wrong.
“...” Hajime hesitated before turning toward her, his eyes reflecting the full moon above them. They were filled with a sad vulnerability. In a voice barely above a whisper, he told her the truth; that he was attracted to men.
Nagito was supportive of him, of course. She gave him plenty of words of affirmation, but they all fell on deaf ears as Hajime told her that he could never officially come out to anyone but her. The town was extremely religious and bigoted, and so were Hajime’s parents.
That night was the closest they had ever been, but a deep melancholy and grief of the situation made them both quiet. The air between them was heavy, and Nagito had never felt so helpless.
She remembered reaching out to him that night to cover his hand with hers. His hand had been warm and trembling, but he didn’t pull away. They sat like that for a long time. Two friends who were almost something more, under a night sky and alone with their thoughts.
When Hajime finally looked up again, the sadness in his expression softened into reluctant acceptance. “Thanks for listening,” he said. “I just…needed someone to know.”
They sat in silence until sleep took them, and never mentioned it again. They never had the chance to anyway - Nagito’s parents passed away just a week afterwards, and she moved away shortly after.
The fact that Hajime finally embraced who he was… Well, even if she wasn’t too pleased with him at the moment she still felt her eyes water with an overwhelming fondness for him.
“Yeah,” Mahiru brought Nagito back to the present, nodding slowly. “He came out at the second Jabberwock pride parade, actually. After the parade there were a lot of people who stopped hiring Hajime. He lost lots of business and eventually just…became depressed. Drowned himself in booze for a while until he got his head on straight.”
They heard Ibuki distantly shout “Haha, straight,” as she rinsed out her bowl in the kitchen sink.
Mahiru and Sonia began folding the blankets lying on the floor nearby. “I don’t think he ever recovered, though. His confidence was shot, and not even Chiaki could get him to open up fully,” She looked at Peko, who looked at Hiyoko, who looked back at Mahiru. She looked back at Nagito. “There’s something about you, though, that gets the spark back in his eye. I can tell.”
“Trust me,” Peko spoke up, “If there was anyone Hajime would give flowers to, it would be you. Don’t worry too much about this, because he is probably doing the same thing.”
Nagito sighed, her eyes dropping to her lap. “Do you truly believe that?” she murmured. Just as Peko was about to respond, a sharp knocking came from the front door.
Mahiru frowned, standing up. “Who could that be?”
Peko rose to her feet as well. “I recognize that knocking. It’s Fuyuhiko.”
Ibuki gawked at Peko while Mahiru made her way to the door. “You can recognize that? That’s awesome-”
When she opened the door, a wave of cool air hit the girls. Standing there was a slightly out of breath and clearly irritated Fuyuhiko. His hands were balled into fists inside his jacket, and he scoffed.
“About time,” he grumbled. “Is everyone still here?”
Mahiru blinked. “Uh, yeah, we are. We were having a girls night and you are kind of interrupting. Is there something you need Peko for-?”
He stepped inside, ignoring Mahiru entirely. He glanced around until his eyes landed on Nagito. “There you are.”
Nagito startled slightly “Me? What would you need someone like me for?”
Fuyuhiko sighed - his voice impatient. “Your boyfriend is at the bar right now. Probably completely fucking wasted by now. Won’t stop mumbling your name and shit. Gundham and Kazuichi can’t get him to leave.”
The room fell silent. All the girls stood still and listened in.
Nagito’s heart lurched. “He’s…drunk?” Just like Mahiru was saying…
“Out of his damn fuckin’ mind, yeah,” Fuyuhiko confirmed aggressively. “Keeps saying something about ‘messing things up’ with you or something, I dunno. The point is that he’s not listening to anyone but probably you. I’d say if you don’t want him passing out in a bush outside the bar tonight, I’d go talk to him.”
Mahiru let out a small sigh, glancing toward Nagito. “You should go. He probably really needs you.”
Nagito was already halfway out of her seat, fumbling to grab her purse. “Right. Okay. I’ll uh, I’ll go see him.”
Peko gave her a small nod of approval. “Would you like me to go with you? It is late outside. You should be careful.”
Nagito barely had time to decline her offer politely before heading out the door. What is this all about? Hajime, drunk at the bar and saying her name over and over. Her hand trembled as she made her way downtown. In just a few minutes her entire body was shaking from the cold. She forgot to grab her jacket in her rush out the door.
Even though she forgot to ask Fuyuhiko what bar Hajime was at, it didn’t matter. There was only one in town anyway. It was hard to adjust to that fact after living in the city where there would be a couple places per block. She wasn’t sure what she was walking into when she finally made it to the bar, but she refused to leave Hajime alone in his state. He’s done so much for her, and even her agitation towards him was thrown out the window the moment Fuyuhiko told her what happened.
The first thing she noticed about the bar was the smell, then the noise, then the people. Nagito scanned the area to see if she could spot Hajime, but instead found Kazuichi’s mop of flaming pink hair. He looked grateful when he saw her coming over.
“Thank god you’re here! Look, there’s this chick-” Nagito zoned out briefly as he explained how he, somehow, got someone’s phone number and they wanted him to come over for the night. With that statement out there, Kazuichi left in a hurry - not that Nagito could care much when her eyes landed on Hajime.
He was slumped over the bar counter - with his arms folded and heavy against its surface. His forehead was propped up by one of his hands. Nagito couldn’t see his face due to the dim lights in the bar.
“Hajime…” she said quietly as she walked up to him. His head lifted at the sound of her voice. His eyes were unfocused, but then they widened in recognition - and then, relief.
“Nagito?”
“It’s me, Hajime,” She said gently, but loud enough so he could hear over all the noise. A long sigh left her lips.
He blinked slowly, processing what was going on. His eyes looked around - probably for Kazuichi - before blinking owlishly at Nagito. Then wordlessly, slowly, he slid his body around on the stool and looked up at her. He was still hunched over, and he used one of his hands to rest on the counter to keep himself upright. His shoulders looked heavy, and Nagito took a step forward and caught the scent of whiskey from him.
Before she could speak again, Hajime’s hands tentatively reached out. His touch was careful, reverent, and almost afraid. His hands found her waist, and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against her stomach with a shaky exhale. Nagito could feel his hot breath against her through her shirt.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured brokenly. Nagito had to lean in slightly to hear him better. His voice was muffled by her warmth. “I’m sorry, and…I don’t even know what I’m sorry for. I’m sorry.”
Nagito looked down at Hajime - who was holding onto her desperately. His hands were warm and his forehead was pressing into the softness of her stomach - she tried not to linger on how nice it felt. Her fingers hovered uncertainly in the air and then solwly brought them down to his hair and started brushing lightly through the chestnut strands.
I caused this, didn’t I? She thought to herself miserably.
“Hajime, don’t apologize. Please don’t let yourself get to this state over someone like me.”
Hajime shook his head before leaning into her body more heavily. Her fingers felt nice on his scalp, and it was blurring his mind further. “Don’t speak about yourself like that,” he grumbled. Nagito could tell he wanted to come off very seriously, but he sounded like a petulant child instead. “Why…Why did you stop talking to me? You’re avoiding me.”
Nagito closed her eyes briefly. She knew she had to come clean to him about everything. “I thought you were dating someone, Hajime” she said softly. “Did you not realize your actions at the flower shop? You just kept buying all those flowers and…you wouldn’t tell me who they were for.” Hajime’s breath hitched. He lifted his head slowly - his eyes unfocused as he tried to meet hers.
“I…just couldn’t tell you,” sincerity coated each word. “Because they were for you.”
Nagito felt her throat close up. Nothing about that made sense. The flowers were for her? She didn’t deserve it, first of all, but secondly, how could they be for her when Hajime had all the opportunities in the world to give them to her and she still never received anything?
Something in her expression must have given away her thoughts. “It’s true. The first time I went in was to buy something for you, but I didn’t know you would be working there. I panicked, and made up something that day. After that I made a few more failed attempts to buy flowers that you would enjoy. Eventually I just started stashing them at the house…I thought I did a good job at pretending I was buying some everyday flowers.”
Hajime shook his head - whether it was in disappointment of himself or just to clear his head, Nagito didn’t know.
“I…was a big coward,” he continued. “I was so afraid to mess things up with you that I just kept making excuses and now I pushed you away entirely,” Nagito could hear his voice shake with the last sentence. Her heart twisted painfully.
“Oh, Hajime…”
He smiled faintly. His eyes were glassy. “You…think I’m terrible now. How can I live with that?”
Nagito cupped Hajime’s face between her hands. She knew they were unpleasantly frigid - especially the metal of her prosthetic - but he melted into the touch nonetheless. She wondered when the last time Hajime was touched like this.
As if a spell was cast, they both stopped talking and sought the comfort of each other’s touch. Hajime brought his hands away from Nagito’s waist to rest them against her wrists. The noise of the bar faded around them, and the rest of the world fell away. Hajime’s hands rested there, and his breath evened out as he relaxed into her hands.
Finally, she whispered, “You are not terrible, Hajime - even if I think what you did was stupid.” She leaned down slightly. “Let me admit something to you, Hajime. I would have accepted your flowers.”
He looked up at her - vulnerable but hopelessly eager. “You would have?” He began to stand up from the barstool he was sitting on, gripping onto Nagito’s wrists tighter to help himself find his balance. With the way he was swaying on his feet, Nagito knew he would need all the support he could get. She tightened her grip on his arms.
“Yes,” she said sweetly. “And I would still accept them if you gave them to me now, even. You haven’t pushed me away, Hajime.” Nagito tried to convey her feelings to him.
“Then, will you go out on a date with me?” She could tell it was hard for him to keep eye contact with her as he asked the question. The alcohol might have made him a bit braver, but he was still incredibly nervous.
Nagito’s smile brightened her face. “Yes, Hajime, I’ll go out with you.”
Hajime laughed to himself. A look of disbelief and guilt was painted on his face. “It was…that easy?”
Nagito scoffed. “I would have gone out with you on the first week that I moved in, Hajime.” She smiled as he became more flustered.
“I…didn’t know that. Please,” he moved his hands from her wrists to hold her hands tightly in his, “let me make it right. I’ll take you out officially this time. We can go right now if you want to,” he said eagerly.
Nagito chuckled. “You’re still drunk, Hajime. You’ll want to ‘make it right’ with me when you are actually sober. Come on, let’s go home,” she slung Hajime’s arm around her shoulder and began to navigate him out of the bar.
The clear air outside seemed to help Hajime a little. “Are we- Where are we going?”
“I’m going to get us a ride to my house. I’m not leaving you alone for the night,” she assured him, squeezing his hand gently. A smile curved her lips as she watched Hajime’s face become red.
“Y-You’re house? For the night? Oh my god…”
“What is Hajime thinking, hmm?” She teased him a little. He squirmed in her arms a little as they walked.
“N-Nothing inappropriate…”
His tone of voice indicated that he definitely had thought something inappropriate. Nagito smirked, but let it slide. She wanted to hurry home so she could get them both to bed.
Tragically, she hadn’t had time to make any of the beds in the guest rooms. She guesses Hajime will just have to use her bed.
Oh well, they’ll just have to make due.