Nagito Komaeda loved many things. Despair, most of all—because despair always gave birth to hope. Hope, because it could never exist without despair. And Izuru Kamukura.

Or Hajime? No. Izuru.

Izuru had always been something special to Nagito, ever since the day they met. After all, Izuru was the Ultimate Hope—what wasn’t there to admire? His existence alone felt like proof that hope could surpass anything, even despair itself. From that moment on, Nagito found himself trailing after him, paying no mind to the other Remnants’ comments about how he looked like a lost puppy hopelessly attached to its owner.

Strangely enough, Izuru didn’t seem to mind. He never told Nagito to leave, never pushed him away, merely tolerated his presence with quiet indifference—and to Nagito, that was more than enough.

Nagito rested his head in the dark-haired man’s lap, fingers loosely clutching the fabric of Izuru’s suit coat as he gazed out at the night sky beyond the ledge of the abandoned building where they sat. The world below them was silent, broken, yet strangely peaceful. Moments like this filled Nagito with an overwhelming sense of hope, the kind that made his chest feel warm and light.

“...Do you think the sky looks redder tonight?” Nagito murmured softly, a small smile tugging at his lips as he tilted his head to look up at Izuru. “I think it does.”