ℕ𝔸𝔾𝕀𝕋𝕆 𝕂. 𝕏 ℝ𝔼𝔸𝔻𝔼ℝ|| 𝕆ℕ𝔼𝕊ℍ𝕆𝕋𝕊

Stars. || Hurt Comfort || 2nd POV (Gender Neutral)

a/n: hiiiii im back, I'm a junior in highschool now LMAO, anyways I was looking through my old writing and found this gem so I wanted to give this oneshot series a proper closing with the writing skills ive gained in the nearly 4 years since the last official update I havent written fanfiction in a while so we'll see how this goes (also im procrastinating my APUSH reading but shhhhhhh)

update: i abandoned this oneshot halfway through and now im making a game and looking for ideas when i found this draft so I figured i'd finish it to actually give it a sendoff

Tw: It's gore of my comfort character!11!!!!11!! 

Perhaps Nagito believed he wasn't worthy of you. Not that he thought he was worthy of many things, but you specifically, he was certain he wasn't worthy. In his eyes, you shined brighter than the rest, even as the killing games deteriorated into madness, when people friends or not, went after each other's asses, you, perhaps out of naivety, or the kindness of your heart, would not even imagine such a thing. 

And by god, did Nagito want you to survive.

It came to him in an instance, watching as Peko threw herself in the line of fire, swearing her life to Kuzuryu, it was as inspiring as it was gruesome, watching the blood pool out of Peko as a thousand swords plunged into her body. This very same display of connection reminded Nagito very much of his relationship with you. 

Oh so loving it was. The way you held him, hands gently caressing his cold cheek as he buries his head into your chest. He knows you hate it when his hair tickles your nose, nonetheless, he continues to nestle himself into you. Late at night, when everybody else was asleep, the two of you would outside your room, watching the stars, the moon, and whatever else was hanging in the sky. Truly, Nagito knew he didn't much time left. Even without the pressures of the killing games, he was dying. 

How many more days did he have? How much more can his body weather, and more importantly, how many more of those days would he be able to spend with you? Often, it feels like he's fading. Mind splintering into the breeze, body crumbling under its own defenses. What was he to do? He was supposed to protect you. More than anything, he was supposed to be forever and always by your side.  He was weak.

His hands tremble when they reach over for yours. 

"Y/n," He says quietly, eyes drifting to some faraway land.

"Nagito,"

"I'm dying."

"I know."

A pause. Carefully, Nagito shifts his body, pressing up against you, and leaning his head against your shoulder. He closes his eyes.

"Does that make you sad?"

"Of course," you respond carefully, and he lifts his head off your shoulders.

"You deserve someone who doesn't...who doesn't fucking die before he can fully show you how much he truly loves you. Don't you see, Y/n? I don't deserve you. It's a sad sight that I'm the best option, the fact that nobody else on this island-"

"My love." You whisper, and his voice falters. When you see he's made no attempt at continuing his speech, you open your mouth to talk, but you find nothing comes out either, yet as your eyes meet his, and he too, understands what you're going to say.

"If I had another hundred lives," he begins.

"I would still live every single one as Nagito Komaeda, so maybe I could be yours for a moment longer." You feel tears begin to well up in your eyes, a pit forming in your stomach.

"Nagito..." but your voice fades, and he wipes your tears with his thumb.

"Don't let me be the reason you're crying, Y/n, lest you make me feel even guiltier for leaving you." When you look up, you see his eyes are also glittering with tears.

You never remembered the stars and the moon being particularly bright in this killing game. But tonight, the moon was beautiful. Large and round, its ethereal rays gleaming on your skin. The precious skin Nagito wishes to hold, to kiss, and to savor, for what little time remains of his wretched life.

Word Count: 702