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When Hajime looked at the stars, he could barely believe what life had been like for him a year prior. It felt weird to refer to the events of the simulation as life, he supposed, but simulation or not, it was his life. A year ago, nearly to the day, Hajime had lost everything. In one day he lost Nagito and Chiaki. His hope nearly went with it. With them gone, he traversed the artificial world alone. He would never admit it, but he had been terrified. He couldn’t understand it, no, why he cared so much that Nagito had died. Not at that time. Now, with Nagito beside him, gazing up at the same clear, starry night, he did. He didn’t understand him them. Now, with their hands intertwined and placed neatly between them on the soft grass, he did.
He found this place not long before Nagito woke up. Hajime spent every day praying for the moment Nagito would awake from his comatose state. He paced nearly every end of every island, thoughts occupied with the hope that he would come through someday, any day. His feet carried him to this spot mindlessly. He walked as if he were a zombie, thoughts completely occupied with getting to hear Nagito’s voice again, and found himself atop a hill. It overlooked all the islands, giving with it a beautiful view of the sky and the sea. His mind went quiet for a while. For the first time in so long, he felt peace. There was a serenity to the quiet he found looking down at the land he had been living on; the land where he had experienced the most painful events of his life. He made a vow to himself to take Nagito there someday. When the time was right.
Nagito didn’t question it when Hajime suggested they take a walk somewhere new that evening. He never seemed to question Hajime anymore, not since they were freed from the killing game. Hajime would call it blind trust if it were coming from anyone else, but he trusted Nagito with everything he had, too. There was an understanding between them—an affection, an affinity—that need not be spoken. Nagito took his hand as they strolled up the hill, idly chatting to him about some book he had found in the library that afternoon. Hajime didn’t find it nearly as interesting as Nagito did; he found it rather boring, in fact, but he was grateful to hear him say anything. Even after so much time had passed, after so many days where Nagito’s ramblings were commonplace, he was so grateful.
“Wow,” Nagito said as they reached the peak. He was a bit out of breath, but he smiled nonetheless. “It’s beautiful up here.”
“I thought you would like it,” Hajime replied. A soft grin painted his face. “You’ve always said you love pretty things.”
“I do, I really do,” Nagito confirmed. He looked Hajime in the eye when he said it.
The two found a spot where they could sit and chatted for a while before settling into a comfortable silence. The sun set and the air grew slightly colder, but Hajime didn’t mind. It gave him an excuse to get closer to Nagito.
Even after he scooted closer to Nagito, he kept their hands clasped together as if he might slip away if he let go. Nagito snuggled up against him, and Hajime felt that same peace he had found the first time he had sat there on his own.
“This is really wonderful, Hajime,” Nagito said. “Thank you for taking me somewhere so lovely. I don’t know what I did to deserve this sort of happiness.” Hajime’s heart always ached at Nagito’s self-deprecating comments, and usually he would have the sense to scold him for them, but he couldn’t find it in him to be angry in a situation like this.
“You’ve done so much,” Hajime said. “Much more than you know.” Nagito didn’t reply, but he squeezed Hajime’s hand. Hajime thought he might have felt a teardrop against his shirt, but he couldn’t be sure. “I’m so glad you’re still here.”
Nagito turned his head to look at Hajime. His eyes were, in fact, wet, confirming Hajime’s suspicions. He smiled, and it was brighter than any of the stars hanging above them. He still didn’t speak. Hajime offered him a soft smile in return. Nagito’s eyes drifted down to Hajime’s lips. It didn’t take a genius to understand what he wanted.
Hajime leaned in and connected their lips. His heart nearly exploded in his chest. Nagito kissed him back, bringing his free hand to the back of Hajime’s head. Their lips moved in tandem, fitting together so perfectly. Hajime could swear he felt Nagito’s heartbeat against his chest, synchronized with his own, beating almost too fast. Even with his eyes pressed closed, he could swear he saw every color in the universe when Nagito’s lips were against his.
The kiss lasted a few minutes, or maybe several lifetimes, before they pulled back. Hajime looked into Nagito’s eyes, face flushed and lips swollen. Nagito couldn’t hide his smile. Neither of them spoke, not at first. They snuggled up to one another again, Nagito burying his face in Hajime’s chest.
“Hey, Nagito?” Hajime said after some time. It was barely a whisper.
“Your heart is racing,” Nagito observed, tapping his finger against the wall of his chest at the tempo of his heartbeat.
“Nagito,” Hajime said again.
‘Hm?” Nagito said, hearing him that time.
“I love you.”
Nagito stopped tapping his finger. He looked up at Hajime, immediately noticing the fear in his expression. Hajime swallowed hard.
“I love you, Nagito. More than I can handle. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” Nagito asked. His lips turned upward, and he stroked Hajime’s cheek with his free hand. He pulled him closer to place a kiss on his lips. “I love you too, Hajime. I always have.”
Oh.
Hajime’s mouth opened, but he couldn’t say anything. He desperately reached for words, but he couldn’t find them, even if his life depended on it. Nagito giggled and kissed him again. Then again, and again, and once more for good measure.
“God, I love you. I love you.” It was all Hajime could say. Nagito didn’t press him to say anything more. Instead, he simply returned to lying against his chest and staring at the sky. Hajime’s free hand petted Nagito’s wild, soft hair.
A year ago, Hajime didn’t think he would even make it out of the killing game alive. He thought Nagito was gone forever. He had never been happier to have been wrong.