Chapter Text
“So, what kind of things do you do for fun?”
…Oh god, he’d just asked her what kind of things she did for fun.
Her eyes narrowed, and he imagined she was probably thinking many of the same things he was: was he seriously attempting amateurish teenage flirtation only days after they’d watched a second classmate be brutally executed? Did he really think she was going to forgive him so easily for ignoring her warnings and letting Ishimaru talk with Alter Ego? Was that really his best conversation starter?
Instead of asking any of these questions, Kirigiri only crossed her arms and bluntly deflected, “I don’t really like talking about myself.”
But instead of letting the conversation end there, she slid her gaze to the right—still passing right over Makoto—and added, “I could ask you the same question.”
Discouraged by her refusal to answer but bolstered by the fact that she was actually engaging him in conversation, Makoto admitted, perhaps a bit too eagerly, “I usually just do whatever’s popular. I like watching baseball! And going to movies with friends, and playing games, and there’s some TV shows I watch with my sister…” He trailed off, the thought of Komaru dampening his mood as he remembered the videos they’d been forced to watch soon after arriving at the school. Would he ever be able to join Komaru on the couch and gossip over the private lives of fictional characters ever again? “But… since we came here, I guess I’ve just been talking to everyone. That is, when we’re not all dealing with… you know.”
When he looked up again, Kirigiri actually was meeting his eyes, and he had to contain his jolt of surprise. He was sure she’d noticed his shock regardless—she was as observant as she was guarded—but she had the courtesy not to bring it up. “So you’re on good terms with the others?”
“I mean, I guess…” Makoto shrugged. “I don’t think Togami likes me much, but I don’t really think he likes anyone. I wanted to be friends with Fukawa—I still do—but she was already complicated even before we learned everything about her. And I have no idea what Ludenberg thinks of me, but I guess she’s nicer to me than she is to Yamada.”
Kirigiri smiled. Makoto didn’t think he had seen her genuine smile yet, and this certainly wasn’t it; it was more of a wry twist of the lips, really. “Navigating through those personalities is your idea of fun?”
“Well, maybe not those three specifically…” He scratched at his cheek. Her phrasing hadn’t been particularly kind, but it was hard to disagree with the implication. Hope’s Peak recruited the best of the best, and it seemed that being the best of the best came with, at the very least, a healthy degree of eccentricity. “But… yeah. Everyone has good in them. I think it’s rewarding to find it, especially in… this sort of situation.”
As if there were any other situation that remotely qualified as the same “sort” as what they were going through right now.
“Naegi, three of our ‘classmates’ have been murderers. One of them is still here.” Any traces of amusement still present from his earlier comments had left her voice. She was frowning sternly at him, eyes trained on his.
Makoto was unable to hold her gaze for long, though he couldn’t help the defensiveness that crept into his voice as he responded, “Kuwata was trying to protect himself. Fukawa wants to change; she told us herself that the reason she locked herself in her room that time was because she didn’t want Genocider Syo to hurt anyone. And Owada…” The image of Chihiro’s corpse, blood dripping down the remains of his skull, came unbidden to Makoto’s mind. But there was also the picture of Owada telling him about his beloved dog, and joking and laughing with Ishimaru, and the resigned, regretful look on Owada’s face as he confessed. “I… I don’t think he would have done what he did under any other circumstances.”
Kirigiri’s stern glare didn’t let up. “That’s even more worrying. You say everyone has good in them, but everyone has bad in them too. You don’t think Owada would have committed murder under different circumstances? Well then, what circumstances would drive Ishimaru to kill? Yamada? Togami? Everyone has a breaking point, Naegi. You don’t want to risk ‘having fun’ with them when they reach it.”
Words were stuck in his throat. Everything she was saying made sense logically, but all the same, he knew in his gut that he would never accept it. Finally, he managed a small, “I’ve been spending time with you.”
“I never said that was a good idea.” Her words fell like stones, clattering to the ground between them. Before he could work up the strength to reply, her back was turned and she was walking purposefully away from him. Makoto winced at the sound of her boots clacking on the floor.
Before long, she was gone.
Kyoko Kirigiri let out a labored sigh. Were anyone else around, she’d be loath to show such a sign of weakness, but she was alone, and she could afford to be dramatic. Certainly the cameras could see her, as she was only standing in the third floor hall, but quite frankly, whatever shadowy, sick figure was watching from behind them could kiss her ass.
She thought of Naegi’s devastated face just before she’d turned away. She grit her teeth.
So much for that. Naegi was wrong. Talking to others wasn’t fun at all.