The sun was relentless, casting a sweltering heat upon the beach. Nagito's skin felt feverish, his body clammy with sweat. He fought to keep up with Hajime's pace, his steps growing increasingly sluggish. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore seemed distant, muffled by the overwhelming pressure in his head.
"Nagito, are you okay?" Hajime's voice reached him, tinged with concern. Nagito nodded weakly, offering a strained smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Hajime's brow furrowed, and he grabbed Nagito's arm, helping him sit down beneath a palm tree. Nagito felt like he was drifting, his surroundings blurring as the dizziness washed over him. He tried to speak, but his words came out as an unintelligible murmur.
Hajime crouched in front of him, his eyes searching Nagito's face. "Nagito, what's going on? Are you sick?"
Nagito managed a shaky nod, his throat feeling dry and scratchy. He wished he could tell Hajime everything—the pain, the fevers, the endless fatigue. But he couldn't, not now.
Hajime's expression was a mix of worry and helplessness. "We need to get you back to your cottage. You need rest."
As Hajime helped him stand, Nagito's body swayed, his legs unsteady. He clung to Hajime, his vision wavering. They started the slow walk back, Nagito's steps faltering. Every movement felt like an insurmountable effort, as if his body was weighed down by an invisible force.
Hajime's voice was a constant hum in the background, guiding Nagito forward. The beach seemed to stretch endlessly, the sand shifting beneath his feet. At times, Nagito's consciousness wavered, and he struggled to stay present, to stay upright.
The walk back to Nagito's cottage was a blur of sensations—Hajime's arm around his waist, the salty breeze against his skin, and the distant sound of Hajime's voice calling his name. He felt detached, as if he was watching everything from a distance.
By the time they reached Nagito's cottage, his breathing was ragged, his body trembling with exhaustion. Hajime gently guided him inside, his concern palpable. Nagito's mind felt hazy, his thoughts disjointed.
Hajime helped him lie down on the couch, and Nagito closed his eyes, seeking relief from the overwhelming fatigue that consumed him. He was aware of Hajime's presence, the soft sounds of movement, but it all seemed distant, as if he was floating in a sea of fog.
Nagito felt a damp cloth on his forehead, and he sighed softly, a small comfort amidst the discomfort. He fought to stay conscious, to focus on Hajime's voice, on the worry that etched every word.
"Nagito, you're burning up. We need to cool you down."
Nagito's lips parted, a hoarse whisper escaping his parched throat. "Hajime... thank you."
Hajime's fingers brushed against Nagito's forehead, his touch soothing. "I'll take care of you, okay? Just focus on resting."
Nagito's response was a weak nod, his eyes fluttering open and closed. He was aware of the warmth that radiated from his body, the fever that raged within him. His thoughts were fragmented, his mind slipping in and out of coherence.
As the room gradually grew cooler, Nagito's breathing steadied, his body relaxing slightly. He was dimly aware of Hajime's presence, the gentle sound of his voice, the tender touch of his hands.
"Nagito, I'm here with you. You're not alone."
The words echoed in Nagito's mind, a lifeline amidst the chaos. He clung to that reassurance, his consciousness flickering like a dying flame.
