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Kamukura knew that the building would start fire before they even went in. Some old paperwork strewn on the floor of an abandoned office building usually wouldn't be a danger… but he was traveling with someone in particular.
Kamukura had attempted to leave the man behind again and again, but their paths just wouldn't stop crossing. Komaeda was lucky, after all, and their affairs always seemed to benefit him. Whenever they did run into each other, they stayed together and enjoyed a few days of superficial companionship.
And as such, they had spent much of the tragedy together. Kamukura had endured Komaeda's presence for months longer than he ever had anyone else, and truthfully, Kamukura didn't quite mind his company. On some levels, it was logical. Things were more interesting with the Servant around, their combined luck influencing the other's. Playing luck was common between the two. And Komaeda took care of the meaningless, mundane tasks that Kamukura saw no purpose in… and that should have been where it ended. But there was more to it, being in Komaeda’s presence was… pleasant… for Kamukura. He didn't understand why, and he had no desire to. He knew he would grow bored of the feelings if he ever bothered to understand them, and something about Komaeda's smile made him not want to.
Yes, Kamukura knew the building would soon be on fire, and yet he still led Komaeda into it, because he knew Komaeda would follow him to the end of the world. Kamukura kept a loose grip on The Servant’s chain, dragging him along. Komaeda stood and glanced around the moment they were in the building, stopping to look closely at pictures with broken frames hung on the wall, documenting memories of people who likely hadn't made it through the tragedy. The building itself was completely torn up, there were strips of water-damaged wallpaper peeling off the walls, slashes on every wooden surface, and blood stains on the floor– this building must have been a victim of a riot. For it to be attacked like this, it had surely once been an important building.
Kamukura took a step forward, tugging sharply on Komaeda’s chain to break his attention away from the photographs, reminding him to follow along. He led Komaeda into the next room, sitting down, and nodding his head as a gesture for his servant to sit beside him. They sat there for a while, on what used to be a waiting room couch. It was torn up and stained, but bearable. Kamukura's gaze didn't leave the wall, but he could feel Komaeda watching him.
“...Sir?”
After quite some time, Komaeda spoke up. Kamukura didn't respond. He didn't have to. Komaeda didn't know how to be quiet for long.
Without waiting for an answer, Komaeda began digging around in his pockets for a few moments before pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Kamukura raised an eyebrow at him. “I got lucky earlier. Had quite the eventful run-in with- ah… the specifics don't matter. Would you like one, Master?”
Kamukura had no strong feelings about the honorifics Komaeda had given to him. He never really had the desire for a servant, but Komaeda had placed himself in that role, and Kamukura didn't see a reason to stop him. If the man wanted to wait on him, he would let him. He knew Komaeda had devoted himself to a life of chasing after despair, like many of the survivors of Hope's Peak Academy, and he knew that serving one of those who had assisted in bringing the world into despair was something that brought Komaeda despair. Despite this, Kamukura knew Komaeda adored him. The failure of a light of hope he could've been, what wasted potential… Komaeda often endlessly rambled on and on about how the balance of hope and despair within Kamukura made him feel.
The Servant looked at his face expectantly. Kamukura narrowed his eyes at Komaeda before giving the slightest nod. He never felt the need to use many words when he was with The Servant, who always seemed to understand, perceptive as he was. Komaeda's face lit up as he fumbled with the box, pulling out one cigarette. They had smoked together many times before, but joy seemed to overtake Komaeda every time Kamukura agreed, as if it was a special occasion to him. He seemed to treat any time he spent with Kamukura as special.
Komaeda leaned in much closer than necessary as he placed the cigarette between Kamukura’s lips. The smell of cannabis was heavy on his breath. He was high- but when wasn't he? It had become rare for The Servant to be sober these days, but at least it was just marijuana tonight. There were countless times when their paths would cross where Komaeda would be on much stronger drugs, often to degrees where it had the potential to become dangerous to his life. It was quite a shame that Komaeda had become so heavily reliant on such vices.
The man reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a rusty, damaged lighter. Lifting it up to Kamukura's cigarette, Komaeda attempted to flick it on. Once, twice, again, and again, and again.
“Oh… how disappointing.” The lighter was clearly dead. “It was working before. For it to stop working the moment I am in the presence of Kamukura-sama… Just my luck…” he mumbled the last part under his breath.
Komaeda sighed and tossed the lighter to the ground. Kamukura’s eyes followed it, noticing where it fell. He watched as it hit the ground in just the right way for the smallest spark to light, just as he had predicted.
He leaned over again and took the cigarette back from Kamukura, tucking it back into the box, which he shoved back into his pocket.
With a sigh, Komaeda looked down and started running his own hand along his right leg, wincing at the pressure being placed on his bandaged thigh, before softly giggling as he reveled in the pain. He looked up at Kamukura with a pained smile, making uncomfortably intense eye contact, his curly hair falling in front of his face. Kamukura turned away, focusing his eyes onto the scattered papers, watching as the flame began to grow. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Servant tilt his head in confusion, turning his gaze to see where Kamukura was looking.
It was then that Komaeda noticed the fire spreading. His eyes narrowed as his smile faltered. He rubbed along his mittened hand with his good one. A stress response.
“Sir, should we-”
“We will be staying.” Kamukura replied bluntly.
Komaeda knew he was in no place to question him, so he averted his eyes from the flame and went back to admiring Kamukura, but his breath was audibly faster and shaking. He didn't stop rubbing his hand.
After some time, Komaeda seemed to relax just enough. He finally looked away from Kamukura and watched the fire as well. Kamukura saw as Komaeda’s eyes lit up with an idea. He reached into his pocket, grabbing his pack of cigarettes, scrambling to pull one out. He cautiously made his way towards the fire. He crouched down, letting out a shaking breath as he held the tip of the cigarette into the fire. Komaeda stood back up and turned back towards Kamukura, shining a smile at him as he brought the cigarette to his mouth, before taking a long drag of it. He coughed softly as he exhaled, and then walked back towards Kamukura and held out the cigarette for him to take.
Kamukura looked down at it for a moment before taking it from his hand, feeling their fingers touch, noticing just how shaky Komaeda was. He flicked the ashes off the tip before bringing it to his mouth. He felt a sense of calm go over his mind almost immediately, his headache lessening, if only a little bit. Komaeda sat back down next to him, and took the cigarette back from him. They passed it back and forth for some time, smoking in silence.
Kamukura stared off into the blinding flame before him, relishing in the unpredictable nature of how it would wave and flicker. He knew he would soon grow bored of it, but for now, he was enjoying the sight. The heat was overwhelming. Bits of sweat began to form on his forehead. He watched out of the corner of his eye as The Servant, who was perpetually cold, slipped off his leather jacket and pulled his thick sweater over his head, leaving only a white undershirt as his top. He folded them over the arm of the couch, leaving them out of his way. Kamukura left his own clothing on, reveling in the feeling of the heat burning his skin.
They sat side by side, the fire growing closer. Kamukura didn't have to look at Komaeda to know that he had grown exhausted from the hours of travel, sickly as he is.
Komaeda scooted closer to Kamukura, looking at him with desperate eyes, waiting for approval. Kamukura glanced at him for just a moment. “Get on with it.” He breathed out the words, not speaking any louder than a whisper.
Silently, Komaeda leaned onto Kamukura’s lap. He let out a relaxed sigh as he nuzzled closer into his thighs. Kamukura placed a hand into Komaeda’s curly hair, gently petting him as Komaeda leaned into the touch and let out a small hum, resting his mittened hand onto Kamukura’s knee. The flame had been slowly making its way towards the both of them for quite some time now, but it seemed to stop right before it got dangerously close. Just as unlucky they were for the building to start fire while they were inside, they were lucky enough to not get burned.
He felt as Komaeda's heartbeat began to slow and settle into a steady rhythm. Kamukura twirled a lock of Komaeda’s hair between his fingers as he let the man fall asleep. He knew Komaeda needed the rest, and so he let him stay there, laying on his lap. Kamukura closed his eyes, and allowed himself to enjoy the calm from both the cigarette, and the closeness he had with Komaeda.
Komaeda woke up alone.