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It was too bright. That was Makoto’s first thought as sleep began to escape him. Groaning, he tried to roll over and press his face into the pillow, only to become aware of a splitting headache threatening to break his skull in two as soon as he moved. He squeezed his eyes shut, abandoning the rolling over plan for now. Eventually the pain ebbed, though it was still far too bright for him to fall back asleep.
Clearly, he was hung over; it had happened before, usually when Hagakure invited he and Togami out drinking. But he’d never drunk enough to leave him feeling this bad in the morning. He’d never blacked out, either, but clearly there was a first time for everything. Makoto scrunched his eyebrows as he tried to remember what had happened last night.
Asahina. They’d been together, celebrating the fact that Kirigiri had been released from the infirmary with a clean bill of health following her recent poisoning, and then Hina had brought out the vodka… he saw flashes of Kirigiri, red-faced and far more giggly than he’d ever seen her, downing glass after glass. Togami, drunkenly lamenting that Fukawa wasn’t harassing him as regularly any more (“It’s your… your stupid sister, Naegi. She’s not even rich! Or handsome!”). Himself, upending an entire bottle…
Yes, that was clearly the culprit. He’d let himself get just drunk enough to stop caring how drunk he got, and from there it had been one big spiral into oblivion. Now, it seemed, he was paying the price.
His headache was dull enough now that it was time to consider rolling over again—at least onto his side, so he didn’t have the sun glaring straight past his eyelids any more. He moved his arm to start with—and then froze, as his hand brushed past something else: something warm, soft, and breathing. Makoto’s eyes shot open even as his headache returned in full force, and it took several seconds before his vision was clear enough to see the head of straight lavender hair taking up the pillow next to him.
Makoto choked out a breath, his quarrel with the sun temporarily forgotten. That was—whatever happened last night, he needed to remember. Now. They’d been drunk, they all had. He’d gotten emotional; he didn’t remember what triggered it, maybe Kirigiri had mentioned something about her stay in the infirmary, but he recalled giving her a full-body hug, Kiri hesitating only a moment before returning it…
Had she kissed him first? His logical mind told him that was impossible; Kiri was always in control of her emotions, never one to act impulsively. Of course, he didn’t consider himself an impulsive person either, and yet…
He chanced another glance at her sleeping form. He had to admit, the sight of her in his bed… he would like it, under certain circumstances. But right now he was panicking. She couldn’t react well to this. They’d both been drunk, sure, but he should have been more in control of himself, shouldn’t have let himself get that hammered. She was still technically his boss, too, what the hell had be been—
“Makoto.” He nearly jolted out of the bed at the sound of her voice. How long had she been awake? Wait, had she just called him by his first name…? “Draw the curtains. It’s too bright.”
“Uh,” was all he managed as he forced himself to stand. Fireworks exploded behind his eyes and he had to keep one hand on the headboard to keep himself upright, but eventually Makoto was successful in shutting out the sun. He wasn’t about to do anything to upset her right now.
“Thanks.” She’d still barely moved, face buried in her pillow. “Are you coming back to bed?”