Danganronpa One-Shots

"weekend." komahina! [angst]

"The weekend?"

"Did you mishear me? The weekend, Nagito." Hajime repeated himself. Why did it feel so embarrassing to say that? They were in his bedroom for christ sake. The weekend. Two days. That's all it was. Things were weird between the two. An in between. But between what?

Of course; Hajime had listened to Nagito's doubts of taking a trip (alone) for the weekend. As soon as he prompted the idea, on the way there, the day they arrived. It was out about forty-five minutes. forty-five minutes of explanations on why name brand fruit juice isn't the same as generic brand. Forty-five minutes of words unsaid. Everyone knew they were "together" per se. Except them. Nor Hinata or Komaeda had visited the outright topic of it. The pages were blank, but the feelings were in bold letters. The words were never spoken. Never properly confronted. They were undertones that were backed into a corner.

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There were two carry ons placed on one bed. Hajime let out a heavy breath, leaving them to the mattress. "Huh. This wasn't what I was expecting at all!" Nagito's voice was heard from the hallway. (casually wandering the small house.) "I told you it wasn't anything special." Hajime said, leaving the carry ons and full bed to be. "We're only here for two days, Nagito." He sighed, stepping out the bedroom. "Criticism isn't the point of this." He turned a hall corner, finding the other boy in the kitchen now. (standing with crossed arms, examining a framed painting on the wall.)

"Criticism?" Nagito repeated the accusation as if Hajime had offended him. "When you said it wasn't special, my expectations were pretty low. Only," He tilted his head to face Hajime. It was hard to figure out where he was going with this. "It's better than I had imagined!" He smiled, A hint of relief settled the tense mood. (why did he seem so happy about that?) "I would never criticize your pick, Hajime." He assured, glancing down at his crossed arms. "In fact - I'm still trying to understand why you'd invite me here in the first place." The fingers holding his arms gripped his coat sleeves. "You've willingly taken time out of your weekend for me. We're all alone .. " He let out a dry laugh, glancing over to Hajime. "That sort of makes me nervous." He seemed flushed with that realization.

"Or do you like being like this?" Nagito asked. "Alone with me?" He was making it sound like a bad thing. "Nagito .. " Hajime let out a breath, watching his expression change at the sound of his own name. (or who was saying it.) "You're always putting me on the spot like this." He indirectly answered that question. Always? Nagito was always saying something that put Hajime on the spot like that. With a right or wrong answer. Or maybe he didn't know what to say at all. Staring back at Komaeda, who was (Im)Patiently awaiting his response. It was deathly quiet in that house. Only the sounds of breaths and a ticking clock filled the silence.

It wasn't like he didn't know how to answer that, not at all. Hajime knew damn well what the answer was. He just couldn't gather it in himself to admit it. To admit how much he enjoyed Nagito's company. He didn't understand what it was. Did he want to? "Look," Hajime broke the silence. "Let's do something." He suggested. "What are you suggesting?" Nagito's grip relaxed, keeping that deathly eye contact. "How about a walk? We could check out the area. I think some fresh air would be good for the both of us." Hajime said, referring to the rural terrain surrounding the small house. It was clear that Komaeda had acknowledged his avoidance of the question, yet left it alone. Was that easier? Maybe it was.

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The journey to the particular area Hajime was referring to was quick; he was familiar with this place. Familiar with a nearby bridge with calming scenery. Hopefully it would calm both their nerves. (especially his own.) With each step he cursed whatever was in him for that interaction. He had planned this out for the exact reason of mending whatever was happening between them. It's like there was a piece of the puzzle missing. Something piecing together a bigger picture. He just didn't know what that was. Hajime's fingers drifted inches from Nagito's down the dirt path. With each step they seemed to gravitate toward each-other, only to keep distance. (forbidding the contact of fingers. they had twenty seven bones in each, and each bone longed for that contact.) He'd look over at Nagito, letting his casual glance linger. He was .. pretty. Why was he thinking like that? Hajime tore his eyes off of him, scolding himself for thinking that way. They were just friends. And that's all it was.