"A lot more than I would've imagined." Hajime stood outside your dorm, having completed your guide around the school. You both idled on the first floor, wrapping up your time together. "Thank you for showing me around. It really means a lot."
"Anytime!" You shuffled through your pocket and pulled out your room key, thrusting it into the lock and jangling the door open. Pocketing the key, you stepped in to a recently cleaned room, either by Mikan or academy staff or Chisa you weren't sure. "Do you...want to come in?" You looked over your shoulder at him.
"U-um, only if you want me to. I shouldn't intrude." Hajime held up his signature hands in protest.
"I don't mind at all. Look, I'll show you what I've been working on." You moved towards your desk, leaving ample space for him to enter.
"Oh...!" Hajime seemed antsy to see your work, yet still held some hesitancy about entering. He gingerly stepped inside, placing a hand on the doorknob to close it. He stopped and released his grip on the knob, approaching you while leaving the door open.
You didn't mind his choice. If he felt more comfortable that way, then so be it. "Here, here's some sketches of a piece I haven't started yet."
"Oh, wow." Even on paper, the concept you created for an American pop star was stunning. She had requested an outfit for the Met Gala, which, while several months away, was still something she focused a large amount of attention on.
"I'm almost afraid to start it, since it's so extravagant," you laughed. "These sequins and glittery sheets are a pain to sew." You pointed at a few swatches stapled to the corner of the sketch paper.
"I wouldn't even know where to start," Hajime marveled. His eyes fell off the table and onto the dress form holding a completed work you were waiting to package and ship out. The dark uniform completely enveloped the dress form it adorned with silky folds that flowed down to the floor, flooding across the carpet in a black puddle. It was a cloak, clearly meant for a character of great stature; the dress form certainly wasn't tall enough to hold it. The shoulders were decorated with hefty silver ornaments, with flashy leaflets and grey flames sprouting off its position on the fabric. "What's this for?"
"A costume for a movie in production. It's a part of the villain's final outfit." You swished around the fabric, looking over the piece that you resented purely for the silver decorations. "It's all finished, I just need to deliver it."
"It's really pretty." Hajime took an interest in an outfit you thought to be rather plain. "Can I touch it?"
"Of course!" You allowed your fan to stroke his fingers along the black waterfall, pinching bits and taking in the texture of the cloak. "Hey, you're probably around 180 centimeters, right? Do you want to try it on?" you asked.
"What? Really?" Hajime pulled away and clutched his own blazer.
"Sure! It's designed for someone around 185 centimeters, but it'll only drag a little. Look, you can just put it on over your uniform." You unclipped a hidden latch near the neck of the cloak and pulled it off the form, ensuring that the inky train was completely free of its previous perch. "Just stand still." You gave Hajime little choice as you reached around his shoulders and placed the costume on his back, securing it in the front. Smoothing out a few stray ruffles, you stepped back and beamed at your work adorning your model.
"How is it?" Hajime laughed shyly, looking down on the intense clothing over his plain uniform.
"It looks good. It really does. I kinda like how it drapes on the floor. Besides, you've got a good stature for broad outfits." Your brain operated on Tailor mode, contemplating the ups and downs of the outfit. Mostly ups, though.
"It's heavy." Hajime shrugged to indicate where the primary weight resided. He took hold of the fabric on either side and lifted his arms, widening his stance gloriously. "Look, they're like wings!"
Some subconscious part of your brain made you step forward, reaching out and running your fingers along the fabric lining his arm. "Yeah, they certainly are."
Hajime's elbows bent and he enclosed you in his arms, a midnight wall cascading down the perimeter his arms formed. "And, woosh, I can close them in and protect you." He smiled at his own antics, looking sincerely at you for a reaction.
You laughed, fully and genuinely. Perhaps the presence of a tall man encasing you in a dark cage should and would be intimidating, but Hajime exuded no signs of hostility or terror. In fact, he provoked nothing but comfort and joy, overwhelming you with happiness and passion that hadn't been felt as long as you could remember. "You're ridiculous, Hajime." You lightly punched his chest, your fist meeting a surprisingly solid pectoral.
"Here, I shouldn't ruffle it too much." The walls vanished as Hajime dropped the fabric and unclipped the cloak, handing it back to you. You returned it to its position on the dress form.
All things considered, he's got a fantastic body for a model. I ought to make use of that.
Wait, what am I thinking? Be respectful!
"Well, I think I've overstayed my welcome. I should get going before security throws me out again." Hajime was fantastic at prioritizing respect over desires.
"If you're sure. You're welcome to hide in my dorm, if you want. Nobody will check."
"Maybe in the future. I'll keep it in mind."
"Alright. Stay safe. Try not to get accused of any more poisonings."
Hajime laughed. "I'll try."
He left you, closing the door behind him. You flopped onto the bed, truly exhausted from the sickness and your time with Hajime.
A week passed. The poisoning situation eventually subsided and you returned to classes. You and Hajime rescheduled your dinner for the next Friday, this time with no chance of interruptions. Nagito was temporarily suspended, leaving no threat of further villainy.
In class Friday morning, you festered over the question you had been meaning to ask Chisa all week. You chose to wait until class was let out to speak with her privately, and thus sat impatiently as class drawled on. When the hourly ringing of the bell indicated the end of class and the beginning of lunch, you remained in your seat while your classmates shuffled out of the room. Chisa immediately noticed your failure to leave and wasted no time approaching you about it.
"(y/n)? Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Ms. Yukizome, I have a question." You stood up.
"What's up?"
"When we were all poisoned, Mr. Kirigiri made an announcement on the intercom. He said that 16 of the 17 students in Class 77 got poisoned. I know all 15 of my classmates, and myself. Who's the 17th student?"
Chisa frowned. "Frankly, I don't know either."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. My roster only has 16 students listed on it. I don't know who he's referring to. Maybe you can take it up with him."
"You've never asked him about it?"
"It's not how things really work around here. I just do my job as a teacher. My priority is you guys."
"Well, if there's some 17th student, won't they be your responsibility too?" you asked. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you sound irresponsible. I know you're doing your best."
"No, you're right. I need to look after all my students." Chisa mused over the concept. "I'll look into it. If I find something, I promise I'll tell you, or the whole class. Leave it to me, okay?"
"Okay. Thank you."
Hajime was waiting for you at the gate to the Main Building, dressed in a black button down, decorated with a grey tie and pristine silver cufflinks and a matching tie bar. It was smooth, sleek, and clearly expensive. Not astronomically, but certainly a cut above the rest. You were thankful you didn't come overdressed. The restaurant Hajime mentioned seemed a bit upscale, and you wanted to dress accordingly.
"You ready?" Hajime greeted you with a smile.
"Of course."
The restaurant was a simple walk away in refreshing evening weather. Hajime occasionally adjusted his cuffs nervously, yet talked to you smoothly and flawlessly. You couldn't determine if he was confident or not. He stayed close to you in the crowds of civilians on the streets, taking your shoulder as to not lose you.
He took you into Conrad Tokyo, an illustrious hotel meant for a crowd of elites. Glass doors opened into a gargantuan lobby with soaring ceilings and sleek decorations. Simple modern chandeliers hung magnificently, glimmering onto huge mirrors running down the walls. It's gorgeous.
Hajime led you to the reception desk. "We have a reservation for China Blue. Under Hinata." The affluent setting didn't seem to bother him. I didn't expect him to be familiar with this sort of territory. Did he grow up wealthy?
"Of course. The bellboy is expecting you." The stoic receptionist gestured to the glass lift at the other end of the lobby.
"Thank you." Hajime bowed briefly before taking you to the elevator. Once inside and ascending, you watched the view of the lobby disappear beneath you. The lift flew to the 27th floor, and you exited into the restaurant.
The modern beauty of the lobby carried over to the restaurant, only with a darker tone. Blue geometric light fixtures were clearly the centerpiece of the room, centered above elegantly furnished tables.
"Mr. Hinata?" A host approached you, dressed finely to match the formality.
"Yes." Hajime nodded.
"Right this way."
Hajime took your arm and strode confidently to keep up with the host. The restaurant was relatively empty as is, but your isolation was increased by the seclusion of a table in the corner, against the wall-length window. You were seated and given menus, then left on your own.
"Well? Do you like it here?" Hajime didn't even look at his menu before first engaging with you.
"It's incredible. Honestly, so incredible. What's the name of this restaurant again?"
"China Blue. They have seafood and Chinese cuisine." Hajime glanced down at the menu. "I hope you like that sort of stuff. I wasn't too sure what your preferences were when it came to food."
"Oh, this is fantastic! I love some of these options." You began looking over the items yourself, building up an appetite just reading them. That appetite suddenly dropped, however, when your eyes scanned the prices. 6,800 yen? For one entrée? That's obscene! You looked up at your date. I mean, I've had a nice meal or two, but was he ready for this? Your eyes returned to the menu. Don't be rude. He's completely aware of the price. There's no way you make a reservation here without being aware. Eyes back to Hajime. I hope this isn't too far out of his budget. I don't want him to suffer for my sake. Back to the menu. Disrespectful again. Geez, just trust in him.
"Is everything okay?" You couldn't camouflage your uneasiness in front of him, and he inquired.
"Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine."
"You seem to be looking at the menu a lot. Is there an issue with the food?"
"No, not at all. Just ignore me."
"There's no way I'm going to ignore you." Hajime smiled, a reassuring and handsome smile.
Seriously. where did all the confidence come from? Has he always been like this?
"Right. Of course you won't."
"So, how is your sewing coming along?" Hajime kept his hands on the table, on top of the menu.
"It's well. I don't have time for multiple projects, since this Met Gala outfit is taking so much out of me. I won't be able to work on anything else until it's finished."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I know you told me earlier you weren't looking forward to it." Hajime stopped when the waiter came by, inquiring after drink requests. He poured water for both of you before departing. "Is there something specific you like to work on?"
"Dresses, definitely. Working with different styles and time periods is fascinating when it comes to dresses. Along the same line, I enjoy making yukatas, kimonos, and hakamas. The wide stretches of fabric are gorgeous to me." You mused over the creative world of sewing.
"I see. Maybe we should head to the streets after dinner; the Sanja festival is starting tonight, there's probably lots of people in traditional clothing."
"Oh, I forgot that's happening. You're right." You looked down at the city street beneath you as if expecting to see some examples already. "How're classes treating you?"
"Still difficult. I'm adjusting easily, but they don't hold back. The title of Hope's Peak I think gives these teachers the idea that they can overwhelm us because we're supposedly exceptional. Only three weeks in and I'm starting to regret it here. The fantasy is dying, I think."
"The fantasy?"
"Yeah. I, uh..." He clasped his hands on the table and lowered his eyes away from you. "I love Hope's Peak. I really do. Ever since I was a kid, I've wanted to come here. I mean, I was fortunate to be able to afford the entrance fee, and I worked hard enough to pass the entrance exam. I am here, now. I think I'm still just hoping it was worth it."
"Well, for whatever it's worth, I think you made a good choice. I'm happy I could meet you."
"Yeah, me too." Hajime met your eyes again, a small smile playing across his lips.
Time passed. You ordered and ate, conversing and laughing together. The check came, spurring you into action.
"Let me-"
"I'll take it." Hajime received the bill from the waiter. Once alone, you tried again.
"Let me pay." You held a hand out.
"Absolutely not." Hajime opened the leather envelope, reading the receipt before reaching for his wallet.
"Hajime! I can't let you pay for this. Let me."
"No way." Hajime flipped open his bifold and retrieved a card. "I said this was my treat, right? So you're going to let it be my treat."
He was stern, but not frightening. You somehow knew he had the ability to be much more intimidating if he desired. Something about his aura, serious and confident, rattled you into submission. You waited patiently for Hajime to scribble his signature onto the receipt and return it to the waiter. Once his card was returned to him, he stood and approached your side of the table.
"You ready to go?" He put a hand on the back of your chair.
"Yeah."