Our Song - Danganronpa

Chapter 23

Y/N tried to open their eyes. However, they realized it made no difference to keep it closed or not—they couldn't see either way. They lifted their slightly above their tear-stained pillow and rubbed their eyelids.

Monday came rolling around again. It was a day to be loathed because it meant Y/N would have to face Nagito again, something Y/N wasn't ready to do yet. They were still embarrassed by the entire incident and weren't sure if things would be the same between them and Nagito.

Their chest still hurt. It was an unexplainable sensation, but not an unfamiliar one. The best way to describe it would be as if something were clawing the inside of their chest. It pecked and pulled, rattling their ribcage like a creature behind bars—it seeped deep into their gut and wouldn't go away. They haven't felt like this in a long, long time. It was unpleasant, and Y/N didn't know how long it would last.

Should I stay home? They wondered. Mom remained in the dark about Saturday night, and Y/N wanted to keep it that way. On the other hand, Y/N couldn't simply state that they were sick. It was a trick they pulled too many times as a kid, and a trick that their mom had stopped believing.

Guppy pounced on their chest, causing the wind to be knocked out of Y/N. he meowed innocently before licking his chops. Y/N sighed as they rolled out of bed in defeat. As they entered, Y/N was momentarily surprised by their appearance before remembering their haircut the previous night. Initially, they hadn't meant to cut so much off. It started with trimming a stubborn strand, then two, and before they knew it, a batch of hair piled in the sink; now there were still remnants scattered across the counter. The ends had curled slightly, to which Y/N tried to straighten before giving up.

After getting ready and exiting the house, Y/N's stomach continued to stir while walking. It was very obvious where Y/N currently stood in Nagito's life. Or was it? Nagito never overtly said no, but what he meant was clear, right? Y/N had been rejected the moment he refused the chocolates. Y/N anticipated awkwardness, disgust, distancing, and the worst case scenario: Him not wanting to be friends anymore.

What Y/N could not have prepared for was Nagito's unbotheredness. While lost in thought, they were oblivious to Nagito, who jotted up behind them.

"Good morning, Y/N," he called out. It took two attempts before Y/N registered his presence.

"Oh, uhm, hey."

From there, Nagito continued to talk easily. So easily as if nothing had occurred on Saturday, as if the confession had never happened at all. Nagito's behavior remained the same, being that he was kind and interactive. Additionally, Nagito seemed to be talking more than usual. But that could be because Nagito was the only one trying to fill up the extra silence. The indifference Nagito displayed seemed almost surreal, since Y/N still felt the rawness of hurt, and lingering awkwardness.

Y/N continued to search for an explainable theory. Is he like this because he's never been confessed to before? But surely he would still feel awkward after. The questions kept piling, but the answers were barren.

"You look quite different today," Nagito mentioned.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, your hair is shorter."

Y/N had thought that it wasn't too noticeable, but they were wrong. "Yeah, I just trimmed it a bit."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah."

Nagito reached out and gently touched the tip of Y/N's hair. "I do think it looks nice."

Y/N quickly turned their head, their strands of hair slipping from his fingers. "Oh, thanks."