Makoto makes not a single sound as he slips out of the cabin, nor when he takes a few light steps onto the boards making up the path connecting all the other cabins. He doesn’t need to worry about anyone happening upon him and questioning his frazzled appearance; it’s the middle of the night, only a few minutes till clocks hit the second hour of the day. There is little point in those that work hard during the day to wander the seemingly desolate resort at this time. Except for him, of course.
Honestly, Naegi has little clue as to why he’s doing this. It’s solely to sate a need, correct? But what could have spurred on this sort of need? He can’t identify why he feels so strangely lonely when he has Kyoko to sleep with through the warm night. She always keeps him company, and just her mere presence, filling the air with the soothing scent of lavender he adores so much, should certainly be enough for him. It has been for months, nearly a year now.
Yet, all of a sudden, he’s become… needy, as of late. Not in a suggestive way, god no. If so, then he’d certainly not be out here. He just craves… something. Something that’s been causing him to cling to Kyoko far more than usual, as well as others. Usually his friends, though sometimes he’ll simply gravitate to whoever’s close by that he knows only vaguely and stick bizarrely close to them. It’s troubling to keep himself in check, but also more troubling to have been told more than once that he’s created discomfort.
Naegi sighs quietly, shaking his head of such disheartening thoughts. No point in riling up anxiety-inducing recollections of the past month’s events. He must address that whatever this craving is, it has become far too prevalent to ignore for much longer. Even Kyoko has become worried by his constant clinginess, which he’s sure must be annoying. She’s not the type to partake in physical affection often, so she’s likely put off by the fact that he’s seemingly become ignorant of this fact so suddenly.
Could it be that he’s edging upon another episode of despair? Simply the signs of an oncoming bout of depression? He’s been doing pretty well lately though, so surely not either, right? There’s no reason for those to be building up! And episodes are not usually punctuated by… whatever has been wrong with him as of late.
Makoto grits his teeth, growling softly in annoyance. He’ll just follow this feeling tonight, then. Hopefully he’ll get some answers soon if he gives in for a bit. Composing himself, he glances around, eyes widening in shock when he’s facing the door of Komaeda Nagito’s cabin, the only sign it is at all being the small nameplate on the door engraved with his name, the blanket of night making it somewhat difficult to read.
Naegi brings a hand to his chin, staring at the door. Why did he bring himself here, of all places? Of all cabins , in fact. Komaeda is not exactly the most stable of the 77th class, so it’s quite a bad idea to hang out with him alone, no matter how much Makoto denies such claims from others. Being the Ultimate Hope doesn’t help one bit, and really just strengthens the mentally ill man’s obsessive behavior to him. That’s actually been getting a bit better lately, but it’s a long process. None of that answers his own question has to why he’s standing here, though.
The short male has to bite back a yelp of surprise when the door suddenly swings open, the cabin’s inhabitant staring at him curiously. Makoto looks like a deer caught in headlights, only eliciting suspicion from the older Ex-Luckster. “Ah, Naegi-senpai… wh-what do I owe the visit of the Ultimate Hope at two in the morning? Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?” He asks in a voice of soft concern, the tone managing to calm the boy somewhat. Yet, it feels… familiar. As if he’s been subjected to such a nice, comforting tone before. And not in the usual way, of speaking to him during the day. It's just... different.
It takes a few seconds for Makoto to realize he’s just standing there and staring at him in shock rather than speaking, likely only making the boy worry more. “N-no, uh… I-I just…” Makoto frowns, his posture slumping as he glances away in embarrassment. “I’m… not actually sure, really.” He admits, hazel gaze wandering to look up at the star-filled sky. “I just kinda…” His gaze drags itself away from the stars above to linger upon Komaeda's frame; thin and pale, with wide, curious eyes and a slight slouch to his posture. And with the sight comes deja vu, and with that, a wish to get closer.
As if running on autopilot, Naegi takes a few steps forward and actually dares to wrap his arms around the taller male, immediately being assaulted by the comforting scent of fresh morning dew the boy seems to always have on him. It’s only once he catches Nagito’s shocked gaze that his hazy, blank gaze clears, making way for panic. “I-I, uh!” Makoto keeps Nagito in a tight embrace despite knowing full well that he should not be doing this at all. His face burns with a bright red blush that he swears glows within the warm shadows draped over them both.
Before Makoto can compose himself enough to pull away and apologize, there’s a hand upon his head, deft fingers running through his fluffy, messy hair. The touch makes him go stiff, then relax more than he had in the past month. The feeling that’s been itching and clawing at him all this time turns into a mellow warmth, spurring him to subconsciously nuzzle his face against Nagito’s chest with a sigh of contentment.
Makoto barely registers that Nagito moves until he’s gingerly pulled into his lap, the bed creaking quietly in protest as they both settle. For the second time Naegi is prompted to snap from his stupor, moving his head back to look up at the other boy with an expression of fear, confusion, and nervousness. “K-Komaeda-kun…” He nearly gasps, hit once more with the strong feeling of safety and contentment. “U-um, I’m… I’m not s-sure why I’m doing this…” He slowly pulls his gaze away to look down upon his hands, clenching and unclenching them to stave off his worrisome thoughts. “B-but I… a-am I betraying Kirigiri-san, n-now? Th-this is… far too sugge- eh?” He stops when Komaeda places a hand upon his head, pushing down the prominent spike of hair he’s well known for.
“We used to do this at Hope’s Peak, though you likely wouldn’t remember.” The name of the damned school causes them both to stiffen a little, but he continues. “You’d usually come by my room late at night, and without a word, you’d just… hug me. I’d take you to the bed, and we’d sleep together.” Heat floods Makoto’s face with a short squeak, which makes Nagito panic as well. “I-it wasn’t like that though, it was all platonic! I couldn’t dream of doing it with another lowly Lucky Student… I’m glad I didn’t though, because I’d hate for your first time to have been with someone like m-”
“Komaeda-kun.” Makoto calls firmly, staring up with a hardened gaze. “It’s okay.” A small smile forms naturally upon the younger man’s face. “I’m glad to know about one of my memories. I guess that’s what’s been making me feel so off all the time.” His eyes wander around the room, unsure of what to set his sights upon. “Thank you for being so willing to help me out.” Makoto can somewhat guess as to why they did it. Their statuses at Hope’s Peak. Them both, the ones lacking talent. Simply plucked away from society at random. That’d be sure to elicit an inferiority complex - Makoto knows it sure did make him feel pretty worthless compared to his peers. So they found solace in one another’s company.
Makoto is slowly laid down on his side upon the bed, and though it’s the same as the ones in every cabin, it feels much softer now. He feels Komaeda wrap his arms around his waist and holds the smaller boy to his chest; this shoves a foreign memory into Naegi’s mind, flooded with a sense of deja vu and near fear when he sees the flash of a dorm exactly like the one he spent fearful nights within, surrounded by the comforting warmth of someone he could truly sympathize with.
Once the memory passes, only taking a mere moment, he relaxes, as if every bit of his stress was being melted away by such a comforting touch. Hazel eyes flutter closed without prompt, but not before checking on the boy embracing him. He lacks the need to check, however; he’s already fast asleep. ‘That makes sense.’ Makoto thinks, nuzzling a pillow as he too prepares to get some desperately needed rest. ‘He’s sick. And with the work he does, he needs as much rest as he can get. But…’ Makoto hums happily, pressing up further against Nagito before truly letting himself pass out for the night. ‘Maybe… maybe he’s been wanting this too.’
He’ll have quite a bit of explaining to do in the morning, but for once, he’ll let himself have something he’s wanted for a while.