(closed) so if i break my face

[commences]

Who: Nagito Komaeda & anyone who hits me up
What: July catch-all
When: 07/01 onwards, save a few backdated threads
Where: Various locations
Warnings: TBA

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my face is just my face

This post is a place for all of Komaeda's closed threads, starters, and miscellany through the month. If you want to set something up, I can be reached by PM or at sakasaki

Comments

[commences]

( if komaeda could think positive of himself, he'd believe he's done excellent at keeping a low profile by spending his time within the library. he has nothing to worry about between himself and the characters within the books, for their lives have already been written, his luck's unable to change that, and so he has no worries. out of sight, and out of mind are the specific words he wishes to live by, or so he thinks. it's unfair considering how much he tries to keep his distance, and there's always this invisible, nagging tug guiding him in a certain direction, the same one saihara's probably (as what komaeda thinks) banking on to catch komaeda's attention as he drifts there by the door.

his radar works against him, alerting komaeda of an ultimate with their overwhelming hope that he'd normally love to bask himself in, but as of late... even that feels like a distant dream. that's how it should be with "symbols of hope" anyway, he knows that being around them so close will only tarnish their radiance, sully their beauty, and if he didn't understand that to be his reality — the blade that cut through saihara that day — should be the best reminder. komaeda's fingers twitch against the corner of the page he's pinched at, not yet turning it when he can just antagonize himself further.

that warm glow comes closer, and closer, and closer until there's a book placed on the table right in his view. he thinks about ignoring him purposefully, using the excuse that an ultimate who protects an untalented in such a manner isn't worth his time... sadly, that can't be, not when it was because of him. he only has himself to blame as his eyes finally lift from what he's reading himself to the one with a note atop. )

...

( "seemed like it fit," is what he reads first, and his arm slowly moves over to slide the slip off to read the title — his eyes flit up and he looks saihara in his face. he should be lucky for his sickly disposition, because the tired expression he wears could be from the lack of sleep, or perhaps he's taken offense from the book. truthfully, his countenance conveys regret, almost like he wants to ask... "why would you come here?," and yet komaeda can't. instead, his eyes fall back down to the table, wondering if that would make conversation (or what one would even call it) short. )

[unsurely]

...

[ No... whether Komaeda's expression is just from being tired or not, Saihara's been ready to accept any reason for that. You can't turn away from the truth after all -- and if something's up, him refusing to understand it or hoping there's nothing like that... would do nothing to change it at all. That's why, even though he flinches a little at the avoidant response, he remains where he is. It's alright; it's nothing he hasn't thought might happen before he came.

For a moment... he looks at Komaeda alone, from the one-sided end he's been left at.

A few seconds later though, the fingers from his still usable hand find the note, pulling it carefully down from the cover. Once on the desk, he turns it towards himself and leans closer to write with his elbow set down (and if Komaeda doesn't like it then... he's free to move over a little further himself). It's more difficult that it would be if he had his left hand... like this, there's nothing to properly hold the paper down, and the words seem a little shaky as they take form.

Regardless, he slides it over again. ]

Komaeda-kun... what's going on? And before you say it... I might be able to speculate or deduce on my own. But that's not what I want to do with you.

[commences]

( his response only extends their conversation, so he finds that being disinterested in it does nothing, and enables saihara further. as the note is within his view again, he can tell that the handwriting is off, not as complicated (or so to komaeda) as per usual, and he wonders if he should even notice that. just a small detail, one that stands out to the problem that the other has, and he takes in a deep inhale, followed by a slow exhale to calm his nerves. the air slips between his lips, blowing the one swoop of hair that curls past his nose, under his eye flickers a bit.

rather than taking the note, he reaches out for the book first, finding that to be... something he can trust with his touch, or in his close vicinity. he lightly traces his fingers along the title of the book, admiring the cover, but he only does so much considering his arm's still in recovery. he presses his thumb against the fresh pages, quickly flipping through as the breeze pushes the note along for a ride away from it. komaeda notices this, and while he could continue to ignore it, he lifts the hand on the book to instead grab the note.

he stares at the writing utensil in the other's hand, fingers lingering for a moment until he reaches out, and before he can even touch it... his fingers twitch... he can't. he wants to pull away, hope that's more than enough, but he takes the pen from saihara as he's willing to work with him. )

Nothing's wrong, everything is as it should be.

( if he could say that aloud, it'd probably come out hesitant, acknowledging that he knows his place, and that's something he doesn't think the other has to deduce. for a moment something comes to mind, maybe a little forced, but given komaeda's minor mood changes. )

Why are you wasting your time around scum like me? I'm a murderer, after all.
I ( here is where he tries to stop himself from adding any elipses, thinking he should get to the point... to show he's not affected by it. ) could kill you too.

( like at the meeting, like... when he almost did...

it's the truth, yet he attempts to mask it. it's a warning that saihara should stay away. )

[unsurely]

"I sat up in the freshness of the morning, trying to remember how I had got there, and why I had such a profound sense of desertion and despair. Then things came clear in my mind. With the plain, reasonable daylight, I could look my circumstances fairly in the face. I saw the wild folly of my frenzy overnight, and I could reason with myself."

[ It's the starting passage from the current page in the book... where Komaeda himself had left it lying open after his fingers flipped through. Saihara's got little to do but to stare at them while he waits, wordless against the silence of the room itself. The chair he pulls out from the table scrapes lightly across the floor, and it too makes no noise; there's only the eerie reverberation he feels in his bones as the motion transfers from ground through the wood, but he ignores it and sits down.

They're beside each other now, just in time for him to read the reply. ]

No... you won't.

[ It takes him mere seconds to grab the pen in return and to write that down. For a single second, his brows lower heavily with the weight of a thoughtful frown... ]

You never argued against the way I outlined the case, and if I think about that... considering the type of motive you had, there are hundreds of other students you'd go for first.

[ Not that he likes the idea or thinks Komaeda should... but it's true. And there's one more thing in the message that still stood out, no matter how hard the other might have tried to the contrary. ]

Besides, I didn't ask what was wrong. I asked you what's going on, so the fact that you chose that word...

[commences]

( the passage itself reads like early morning, visible, bead-like morning due rests upon the curve of the leaf, and then glides down to fall onto the earth below it. it feels serene, a view he's never seen before, and he's taken aback from the sight of despair, but he bites his tongue to calm himself. "then things came clear in my mind," he likes that, it's like the character overcame the distress that dwelled there, opening up a type of hope — the person within the writing isn't an ultimate, but hope is hope, noticeable in the way it's written.

this piece must mean something outside the obvious to komaeda, and because he's so caught up in this specific line — he doesn't realize saihara sliding down in the chair beside him until it's too late. the pursing of his lips become a frown now, and he only person he has to blame is himself. he doesn't have the same expression as saihara, his more thoughtful, and komaeda's growing ever more tired.

he waits for the pen to make it back to him, and he follows up. )

I made do with what I had, for you all, I'd use whoever is needed for the sake of hope.

( he recalls his conversation with stephanie, how she asked him why did he choose her. the answer was simple, just ambiguous like anything else — she said he could have chosen anyone, that it didn't matter. it's a pretty good excuse he'll use here, sometimes childish innocence is right. )

Wait a moment, Detective...
I answered your question... you asked me what's going on, and look around... I answered accordingly, "Nothing's wrong, everything is as it should be." That's how it is for me.

You've existed in a time where the world isn't against you, right? That's what's going on. An Ultimate like yourself should know the feeling, and that's why... you should embrace that, and return to it. It'll be fine, now.

( he's losing his touch, the wear and worry weighing down on him, making it difficult to approach things properly. he hates it, he feels vulnerable like this, and it's embarrassing, he only has one chance to clean his mistake this once. saihara is a smart individual, and it's why komaeda took a liking — had taken a liking to him, to be thought of like a case doesn't bother him either, but will he accept his reasoning?

he waits for saihara to finish reading, and once he does... he takes the slip of paper to ball up, sitting it to the side of the table away from him. it's like an end of discussion, but as his eyes fall on saihara's face, they can't help but glance at his shoulder, and the scene plays again in his head.

...

if he... if his luck didn't... )