IM

FREAKING

DONE

WITH

STATE

TESTING

YEEEEEEEEET

Mom: Just because you finished doesn't mean that you did well.

Me: Mom... why must you always do this to me T_T
_____________________________________________

Nagito and Hajime flew to a crumbling building in the urban parts of Japan, landing on the rooftop.

The air was thick with smoke, the smell of burnt rubber lingering in the skies.

Evidently, something terrible had occurred.

"Who is it this time?" Hajime sighed, his posture slouched.

"I think two people again this time."

"Then I hope that their last request isn't for chicken nuggets," Hajime chuckled, recalling the events of his first harvest.

Nagito cracked a smile, glad to see that Hajime was being himself again.

"What time is it anyway?" Hajime asked, taking a seat on the concrete rooftop.

"Seven-thirty."

"When are the deaths?"

"At approximately eight o'clock P.M."

"Half an hour to go..."

An uncomfortable silence replaced the discussion, and soon Nagito found himself thinking back at Hajime's caring side of his personality.

Before he could wander off to when Hajime almost kissed him, the mafia lord spoke up, breaking the thin veil of silence.

"So, what did I do when I was drunk?"

"Drunk?"

"After the gala."

"Uhm..."

The Grim Reaper rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with Hajime.

"What did I do?" Hajime asked again, staring at Nagito.

"Well... nothing really. Yeah. Nothing happened." He cleared his throat, wishing that the brunet would change the subject.

Thankfully, he did.

"Did you get enough sleep then?"

Nagito hummed, his hands itching to put on his hoodie so he can vanish in the darkness. Someone actually caring about him made a foreign feeling reside in his chest.

"So... about yesterday."

Nagito froze, his body turning hot.

Frick. Please, anything but this-

Hajime coughed, clearing his throat.

"Do you always overwork yourself like this?" Concern leaked from his voice, and Nagito felt the tips of his ears grow hotter by the second.

"No. Not unless Her Majesty makes me. I don't really mind."

Hajime whipped his head toward Nagito, his brows creasing.

"You don't mind? Goddammit, Komaeda. You nearly fell flat on your face and almost passed out because of sleep deprivation and hunger. And you have the guts to say you're okay?"

"I'm fine. It doesn't really matter. I got enough sleep..." As if he'd jinxed it, a yawn slipped from his mouth before he could smother it.

"Komaeda..."

"Seriously, Hajime. It's fine. I'm okay. I can walk, talk, and function properly."

"Doesn't mean that you would be able to run a lap around this building without collapsing. You are able to do all those but your muscles aren't." Hajime snorted.

Nagito opened his mouth to shoot back a remark, then realized that he had none.

Suddenly, a feeling of dread washed over his body, and the pungent smell of death wafted through his nostrils.

But how was that possible? How could something reek so badly of death? There was nothing that had died yet in this area, so there shouldn't be anything out of the ordinary.

He cringed, turning to see if Hajime had also smelled it.

The mafia lord was undisconcerted, eyes still glued to the ground below.

Before he could ask about the aroma, an explosion sent them flying backward due to the shockwave it caused. Hajime latched himself onto Nagito, the two barreling into the edge of the building.

"It's seven fifty-five." Nagito gritted his teeth, readjusting his glasses, the troubling thoughts of the peculiar smell leaving his mind as he focused on something else.

"Time to reap some souls," Hajime added in.

Nagito carried Hajime to the building and through a window.

Two people were neck to neck, shooting at each other with guns. They were two girls, both the same age.

One had short hair up to their shoulders and was currently overpowering the other.

The second girl had hair up to her shoulder blades, freckles scattered across her face.

Both looked overly exhausted, and their arms were shaking as they held their weapons.

The second girl was backed up to the edge of the building, her right foot half off the platform. Her eyes were narrowed as she kept shooting.

"Go die!" The short-haired girl yelled from the other side, reloading her gun then taking aim at the girl's forehead.

To much of Nagito's surprise, the girl dropped her gun, determination written all over her face.

"No, you!" She shouted, her voice hoarse.

The girl jumped backward off the building with a mighty 'YEET', sticking her middle finger at her opponent.

Cruelly enough, her enemy gave no mercy and shot her twice before she hit the ground, dead.

Triumphantly, the shorter-haired girl wiped the sweat off her brow, taking out a walkie-talkie.

Nagito heard Hajime gasp sharply just as the girl was shot from behind. She, too, like the girl she had killed, fell to the ground, the life fading from her eyes.

Hajime's fists tightened, and Nagito looked down at his feet, ashamed that he had brought him here. Alas, it was against his orders not to, and he would be punished severely if he didn't carry out his tasks.

"So..." Nagito started, shooting a glance at the angry mafia lord. "You wanna learn how to reap souls?"

"What?" He turned to face Nagito, confusion settling over his features.

"Here," Nagito said, tossing his scythe at Hajime who fumbled to catch it.

"Wait, how?"

"Like this."

He placed his hands on top of Hajime's and swung it in an arc, capturing the first soul that appeared from the body in front of them.

"You catch the other one, I have something I need to take care of," Nagito instructed, flying out of the building.

He landed between two buildings, looking for the thing that had caused the smell from earlier. He swore he felt something dead pass through here...

His eyes scanned the territory, but there was nothing except a few rats and mice scuttering over the drains.

The Grim Reaper unfolded his wings and was about to fly off again when a stinging pain erupted in his legs, taking down his body.

His hand flew to his legs, and a bright crimson stained his hands. Blood was oozing from the slices in his legs.

His eyes went wide with alertness, scanning his surroundings since he wasn't able to get up.

Nagito coughed and spit out blood as a foot connected with his ribcage, knocking the air out of his lungs.

He shot backward, slamming into a pile of concrete rocks, causing a cloud of dust to form in front of him.

His body felt abnormally weak, each movement making his body ache.

Nagito wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand as he glared into the dust. How could anyone have seen him? He was a representative of death, which means that only people who had met or experienced it themselves could see him.

"Who are you?!" He growled or tried growling at least. His ribcage hurt to do so.

The putrid sense of death wafted through his nose, causing the messenger of death to gag. It was the same smell that had led him here before.

"What do you want?!"

A maniacal cackle echoed through the alley as a foot came in contact with his chest, pinning him to the ground.

Circle-rimmed glasses were visible and his eyes met with purple ones.

"Hello there, pretty boy." A sugary voice slurred.

Oh, no- How could they have-

Peering down at him was a girl with magenta-colored hair, separated into two braids. She was wearing a purple schoolgirl outfit along with a red tie. In her hands were two pairs of scissors, both dangerously close to his face.

"Toko Fukawa." Nagito gasped.

Toko laughed, clutching her stomach.

"I'm glad that you still remembered me, Nagito Komaeda," she drawled, her words dripping with venomous honey.

"After all," she cocked her head to the side, "I was your mentor."

~

Nagito gritted his teeth in pain as he glared up at the former Grim Reaper.

"I thought you were dead." He snarled.

"You THOUGHT!" She giggled, brushing the blades of her scissors against his face. "Well guess what? I'm still here!"

With an excruciating rush of pain, Nagito hoisted himself upward, jumping back onto a broken wall.

His legs screamed with pain, begging him to stop. The blood-stained his pants a dark shade of black.

"Don't have your scythe? Are you abandoning your duties as a Grim Reaper? How shameful of you." Toko clicked her snake-like tongue.

Nagito bit back a remark. He couldn't risk letting the former Grim Reaper know that he had an apprentice now.

He opened his hand, summoning his favorable weapon, a spear.

The metal felt cool against his skin as he held the spear.

He lunged at his mentor with the tip headed her way, careful not to use his wings.

Toko dodged swiftly, raking her scissors down the albino's back.

Nagito gasped in pain, a burning feeling now making its way through his body.

Still smiling, she chucked one of her scissors at Nagito. He dodged, chest heaving as adrenaline ran through his veins.

However, his reaction time had been a bit too slow, causing the scissors to split open the skin on his left cheek.

Leaping upward, Nagito did a cartwheel midair and landed behind Toko, about to stab her in the back.

He smirked to himself, knowing that she couldn't escape.

Her head turned over her shoulder, flashing a sly smirk at the albino before she disappeared.

Then he remembered. Each Grim Reaper had a gift of their own and-

A heavy weight made an impact with the injury on his back, forcing him to collapse onto the ground, his face contorted in pain.

He had forgotten that Toko's ability was cloning due to the multiple personality disorder she had when she was alive.

The tips of the scissors were pointed at his neck, and his back was screaming in agonizing pain.

Nagito tried lifting his head and was unwillingly put back to the ground when Toko's foot came into contact with the crown of his head.

"Well then, Na-gi-to. What are you going to do now? After I take your soul, I'm free from my banishment. I can rightfully take my place as the Grim Reaper of Hell where everyone would respect me. Isn't that nice?" She purred in his ear.

Her foot moved down to his neck, pinning his windpipe between the sole of her shoe and the dirt.

His windpipe was being crushed and he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't-

A large explosion shot through the thin area between the two buildings and the weight of Toko's foot left his neck. He coughed, sending spasms of pain through his ribcage.

"Leave him alone." A voice came from a few meters in front of him.

"Oh, ho ho. Who do we have here? You never told me you had an apprentice, Nagito."

Nagito forced his face up from the ground. His vision was still blurry, but he could make out the familiar form of Hajime standing in the dust.

Toko sniffed the air delicately as if Hajime was an appetizing dinner.

"Oh~ You never told me he was a mortal." She licked her lips hungrily. "So, human. You want your mentor back?"

Hajime kept silent, but Nagito could see the anger welling up inside him.

"I challenge you to a fight then," Toko stated, whipping out a new pair of scissors. "Winner gets the Grim Reaper, alright?"

Toko laughed when Hajime didn't respond.

"Oh, I forgot that you have no ability. I'll give you a weapon of your choice." Toko motioned toward Hajime to say something.

"A taser," he replied, his jaw clenched.

Nagito wanted to yell, to tell Hajime that he was being stupid for asking for a taser and not anything lethal. But the words clogged up in his throat, so all he could do was watch.

Happily, Toko tossed Hajime a taser and positioned herself into a ready stance.

"I'll allow you to make the first move." She stated confidently, her eyes watching Hajime's every move.

Instead of what Nagito expected, Hajime brought the tiny weapon up to his forehead, closing his eyes.

What the hell was he doing?

His lips moved silently, and he pressed the trigger button.

"No!" Nagito croaked out, panic causing a frenzy in his head.

Hajime's body jerked twice, then sagged, dropping the taser onto the ground.

Toko's smile faltered, confusion brewing up within her.

When Hajime opened his eyes, they were no longer the same colors. Instead of two olive pairs, there was one olive eye and one red eye.

Toko stepped backward in shock, her guard momentarily down.

In a flash, Hajime (was he even Hajime anymore?) took advantage of the situation and grabbed the gun that he had received from Nagito.

He fired, the bullet missing the former Grim Reaper by an inch.

Toko smirked, twirling her scissors in circles, her tongue lolling out of her mouth.

"You think a normal weapon can beat me? Are you dumb or something?" She cackled.

Unfazed, Hajime fired another shot. This time, it struck her in the shoulder. She gasped, her breaths uneven as she tried to regain her fighting stance.

Using her good arm, she flung her scissors at the brown-haired male.

With inhuman agility, Hajime dodged swiftly. He didn't even flinch or blink in the slightest.

She ran toward him, pulling out another pair of scissors and attempted to ram it into his chest.

Instead, Hajime turned in a circle, avoiding her blow and placing the gun to the back of her head.

And just as she had done before, Toko split, her clone that was positioned in front of Hajime disappearing while her real self appeared from behind, scissors wide open to cut the brunet.

With an incredible amount of strength Nagito never thought Hajime could ever have, the mafia lord roundhouse kicked the former Grim Reaper in the head, followed by a sidekick to the stomach. He blocked her blow with his forearm.

Toko lost her footing and collapsed, her arms at her sides.

Hajime stepped over her and placed the barrel of the gun on her forehead.

His finger hesitated as he debated whether to pull the trigger.

"What? Are you too much of a coward to end someone's life?" She wheezed with laughter.

The index finger tightened around the trigger.

Suddenly, Hajime's hand flew to his head, two voices coming out of his mouth in unison, causing it to sound somewhat distorted and overlapped.

"Wait... don't kill her." The more dominant voice, Hajime's, said.

"Why not? You summoned me for a reason." A deeper, huskier voice said in a monotone.

"Oh, for heaven's sake. Just kill me already!" Toko yelled, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. "I don't want to live anymore with those stupid memories of my past life and the ones from my days in Hell."

"Memories from your past life?" The overlapped voices questioned.

A smirk blossomed on the former Grim Reaper's face as she shot a quick glance at Nagito.

"So pretty boy there never told you, huh?"

"Told me what?"

Toko smiled slyly, twirling her hair with her finger.

"Grim Reapers are specifically chosen. They're not assigned by who comes to Hell first or anything like that."

Nagito's chest constricted and his breaths became shallower. There was a reason why he had never told Hajime how old he was or how he got to Hell. That information was strictly confidential, but now Toko was leaking it, and Nagito was too weak to stop her. He could only avert his gaze to the ground, eyes unable to meet Hajime's if he looked.

"Just tell me already!" Hajime growled, tightening his grasp on her wrist.

Toko's eyes narrowed, her purple orbs glinting with mischief.

"The people who have the saddest deaths are made the Grim Reaper. The ones with the most tragic, heartbreaking, despair-inducing deaths." She glared up at Hajime as if analyzing his features.

"But you. You don't seem like you've gone through a sad death. Then why did Nagito make you his apprentice? Why did Junko make you his apprentice?" Toko's grin widened. "Ah, I see. It was because Nagito favored you, wasn't it? My used-to-be-cold-hearted apprentice warmed up and softened up to a twinkie? How pathetic." She rolled her eyes.

"Tell me how he died," Hajime demanded, pressing the gun harder into her skin.

"Kill her already," Nagito managed to gasp out, his lungs burning.

"I want to know."

"Hajime..." Nagito threatened but ended up coughing.

With a last seething look at the former Grim Reaper, Hajime took the tip of the gun off her head and pocketed it.

"Don't come back again." He merely stated, his voice deeper due to that thing he had apparently 'summoned' inside of him.

With a mock bow, Toko unfolded her wings and flew away, a smile still plastered across her face.

Nagito's breath faltered as Hajime turned his red and olive eye at Nagito.

"You can go now." He said calmly, clutching his head. After a few seconds, the deeper voice that Hajime had possessed was gone, but the colored eye was still there.

"Are you alright?" Hajime heaved Nagito's arm over his neck, supporting him.

Unfortunately for the albino, his legs had been injured. Nagito fell onto his knees, his back and legs in pain.

"Here." Hajime scooped Nagito into his arms, careful not to touch the wound on his back.

Nagito didn't protest as he had before. He had overestimated his limits sow now he had no choice but to let Hajime carry him.

"Who was that anyway?" Nagito asked in a raspy breath, slightly wheezing.

"I'll tell you later," Hajime mumbled. "Save your breath."

Nagito opened his mouth, then shut it, afraid that Hajime would snap at him if he asked any more.

"How are we supposed to get back? I can't use my wings." The albino said, changing the topic.

Hajime didn't look the slightest bit concerned.

"Hajime?" Nagito asked again.

"I have a key to Hell. It's okay."

"A key? How did you manage to get one of those? Those are only for the most important people!" Nagito blubbered in disbelief.

"Relax," Hajime sighed in exasperation. "I was rummaging through your drawers and I found it. Thought it would be useful and here we are, in need of it."

"Who gave you permission to-" Nagito's sentence was cut short as an impromptu fit of coughing seized him.

"Hey, take it easy, okay?" Hajime murmured softly as he put down Nagito momentarily to use the key.

A portal appeared in front of them, swirling with red, black, and purple colors.

"Take it easy. Go to sleep. When you wake up, everything will be fine again. Okay?" Hajime's eyes softened and he used that caring tone of his again.

Nagito's body relaxed at the sound of the voice he loved to hear, his tense body sagging in the brunet's arms.

Hajime's soothing voice along with the cradling feeling of being held in one's arms lulled Nagito to sleep, the pain in his wounds slowly fading away.

Before he knew it, Nagito had fallen asleep soundly in Hajime's arms when they returned to Hell.