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Makoto’s phone rings.
And perhaps he shouldn’t have picked it up. Perhaps he should have basked in the warm caress of hot water and simply let the buzzing object on the porcelain sink go to voice mail. But, he figured, what was a few minutes to tally off from? After all, he wasn’t obligated to stay in the shower, not by any means, that and he would never take up all the hot water so that his beloved wouldn’t have any left! It was plain inconsiderate, at least to the boy’s kindhearted nature it was. Not to mention that it was somewhat rude to knowingly dismiss a phone call from someone, unless there was an emergency that left them unable to answer.
As his foot hits the carpet, his skin glistening with trailing beads of water, he takes a guess at what this could possibly about, and before noon too! Maybe Kyoko had forgotten something- an occurrence which is a once in a lifetime event- and needed him to find it for her. Or maybe it was from Future Foundation, or, at least what he was hoping for, was the pharmacist telling him that his new supply of medication was in stock for him to pick up. The last one would be the most relieving since, without it, he’d have...episodes.
Not violent ones, unless he counted himself as an afflicted victim to his behavior, but given that he’s had a few over time, he’s noticed the increase in worry of his friends. They never last more than a few hours, thankfully, but...seeing the Ultimate Hope so unhinged and fully willing to accept and even try to clamber his way to death itself was sure to give those who’ve had to restrain him from doing something drastic plenty of dark thoughts, or even nightmares.
It was a combination of things that spurred these on, anxiety, increased or pent up stress, trauma from two killing games, but the main trigger he supposes, does involve an incident with the final killing game. It took quite awhile for the brainwashing effects of the Remnants of Despair to finally be reversed, to retrieve the group of teens that class Seventy-Eight once was. Given that the world was still within its state of Despaired Tragedy, there was no viable option that would be a more reasonable solution to undo the brainwashing, along with the violent tendencies of the remnants.
But now in a Post-Tragedy world, a world slowly piecing itself back together with Makoto helping to encourage and guide them to a better future, thankfully the means to properly reverse hypnotic effects could be available!
Unfortunately there’s a difference between having one’s mind forcefully altered into a despair fueled war-criminal, and a suicidal state of despair.
He doesn’t like to think about it, but it can’t be ignored. If he staves it off, pretend it never happened, then that would only slow his progress. If he stayed in denial over a single event as he did for the first week or so after the final killing game, then he couldn’t get treatment for it. But once he did, the first option was hypnotherapy, which didn’t end to well. What worked however, was medication. It helped postpone any worries or lingering stress he may be encountering, but it does not get rid of any post-hypnotic effects. But since the correlation to these little ‘despair episodes’ was with being overwhelmed in negativity, it was only fair that his medication neutralized said signs of negativity. They weren’t ‘happy pills’ as people put it, not feeling any form of negative emotions was downright insane! No, they were simply there to keep him in a calm, collected state so that his trauma doesn’t form any...unwanted thoughts.
Makoto wipes off his damp hand with a towel, draping it around himself as he blindly picks up the phone, putting it on speaker rather than placing it to his ear to prevent water from getting all over it. “Hello?” There was a slight curiosity in his voice as he greeted the person on the other end of the line.
“Ah, Naegi-kun,” The boy in question immediately recognized Byakuya’s voice, a single brow raising. It was nice to speak with a friend, but his tone came off as snarkish, which wasn’t unusual but there was no warmth in the blonde’s voice. “This is an urgent matter so I’ll be skipping the pleasantries. Are you sitting down?”
“What?” That was an odd question, especially from him. But it’s probably best to just answer and see what this ‘urgent matter’ was. “N-No, I just got out of the shower, so I-”
Makoto hears a muffled, whispered curse on the other end, catching the young man off guard. Was...Was Togami in trouble? Was he calling because he needed assistance. “H-Hey, what’s wrong?” Slowly, dark thoughts try wriggling their way into his head, poking and prodding with malicious ideas as to just how severe the situation was. It could be a kidnapping, or a hostage situation, who knows how much time Byakuya was able to stay on the line before he was inevitably cut off. Makoto sighs, shaking his head. No, he had to keep his thoughts collected. He had to brave himself for whatever was going to be thrown at him. They’ve been through hell and back, and nothing was going to-
“Kirigiri-san appears to have gotten into a car accident.”
The tan haired boy’s throat stitches shut, eyes widening as his normal expression turns to a horrified grimace. He just barely parts his mouth, bottom lip quivering before he has to close it again. Any words, thoughts, all died away as he registered the words. They repeated in his head, over and over. Kyoko got into a car crash. She got into a car crash, and her fate was unknown.
“Hello?” Byakuya only manages to snap him out of it partway, the boy unresponsive. “Makoto, you need to listen to me. Are you still there?” There’s a groan on the other side of the line, the phone shaking in his grasp. “Asahina-san had to call me, she says Kirigiri-san was about to pull into the academy to take care of some paperwork, but at an intersection that’s close to the entrance there was a collision. She says there were multiple cars involved, and the total of the wreckage varies. *Do not panic.*” His voice drops completely, the order coming out as more of a threat than anything. “I know it sounds bad, but I’m sure Kirigiri-san will be fine. I’m only telling you because if she’s injured and needs to be escorted for medical care you may want to visi-”
The call ends abruptly, leaving a now disheveled Makoto clutching the sides of the sink, knuckles turning white and breathing turning unsteady, his chest heaving with each deep, rattling breath. He completely ignores the heat and steam radiating off the room, off his still wet body, the sensation of water on skin becoming numb to him. No, not numb...but thicker. Thick with the blood of those who have killed, of those he’s sentenced to death by outing them as the killer, of those who met an unjustly demise because he had the audacity to keep living.
The young man knows it’s coming, he can already sense it despite that invisible bar of stress only about partway full. But the thoughts, oh god the thoughts he could no longer sustain were all flooding into his mind, tainting it with the darkest of outcomes. Was it selfish to blame himself over something he didn’t even cause? It was a fucking car crash, no one could’ve known about that! But what if Kyoko was the one who had steered out of control in the first place? What if he had the opportunity to look the car over the day before and find a flaw he hadn’t seen? He could’ve taken it to the shop, get it fixed, and Kyoko would’ve been fine! Better yet, let him have been the one to veer off the side of the road because his mere existence has caused too much suffering!
But..he’s done good, right? He’s helped restore hope to the world alongside his friends. He’s become headmaster of Hope’s Peak, the academy now purged of any form of elitism or inequality because someone who started off as a lucky raffle student would never keep the old rules enabled, and he’s done his best as a member of Future Foundation, even if he went against their orders, which nearly resulted in a penalty were it not for the final killing game. Was it...lucky that his trial was avoided? Some kind of...backwards karma where one potentially horrible outcome was outweighed by something far more sinister and filled to the brim with suffering.
Did his own luck of having his life spared from the crime of treason trigger the final killing game?
Regardless, he was the cause no matter what. It could be spun a million different ways, but the final killing game was tailored to be based around him, being at first accused of a traitor. And it wasn’t until he had to be forcibly brainwashed into some form of despair that those around him stopped suspecting him, even though at that point, it was a lost cause given that most of the foundation member’s lives had been taken, wether it be by their own hand, or another force.
What the hell was even the point?
Makoto shakes his head, his last bits of his optimism trying desperately to get him to keep himself composed, that he was just saying such trivial things because he had no proper way to cope or resolve the building tension. But...Kyoko could be gravely injured, hell she could be dead for all he or anyone else knows! That thought made him sick, images of twisted and warped metal decorated in blood with a crumpled body in the seat flashing before him. His mild trembling turns to violent shaking, squeezing his eyes tight to get the terrifying displays to stop, he just wanted it all to stop.
He immensely regrets looking in the mirror. He doesn’t even notice the flecks of red dancing in his hazel eyes, but rather, the figure in the corner of the bathtub, standing perfectly still with messy blue hair covering her eyes.
Ah, this is where it all started. How it all started. Of course his mind would torment him in the one thing that spiraled all this bloodshed. Hot pink that hadn’t been there before now stains the tile walls, Makoto surprisingly almost comforted by the all too similar image. A pale hand trails from the wall, smearing the copper scented substance with the water, seeping into the cracks and rolling down the edge of the tub as she smiles at him from the mirror. He whips his head around, wishing for the image to disappear once he does since it was just an illusion, right? His eyes were playing tricks on him!
To his dismay, Sayaka still stands, smile plastered on her face. She chuckles, but...it’s ungodly with the way her body moves. Her voice sounds normal and tame enough, as if someone were telling a somewhat amusing joke. But the way her body heaves, the way her shoulders lifted up and down as if she had to force them to move, her smile turning into a pleased grin as her fragile little giggle continues.
“Naegi…”
Hearing that sweet, melodic voice again pushes him over the edge. He whimpers, gathering up all the mental strength to tear his gaze away from the ghastly sight, only to be greeted with blood sticking to the white sink, his hands dripping in vibrant neon. He shouts in surprise and opens up the cabinet, the blood on his hands smearing on the mirror as he shakily attempts to pry it open. A row of shelves is revealed to him, his meds always being kept on the lowest shelf. There had to be at least one left just one of anything to get rid of this hell! But...maybe it was a hell he deserved. Tears brim in the corners of his eyes as he fumbles with the empty capsules, muttering “no,” and “please,” under his breath, the panicked whispers turning into strained whines as the inevitability that he was completely out dawning on him.
There’s a set of taunting words behind him, burying itself deep into his mind and clinging onto it. They had been in the background at first, far too focused on trying to put an end to all this blocking them off. But once he realized that there was nothing left, that there was no possible way of escaping this, it burst to the front of his mind, that same sickening sensation he felt back when he first watched that forsaken video now coming back full force like it always did when his episodes reached its peak.
He screams, thoughts of his wife being dead now just another conglomorate of everyone else he’s gotten killed because he dared to continue on, to never give up the hope he loves so much and keeps by his side. Hope was powerful, and so was the mind. But when the mind had been corrupted with something that could ditch those hopes if pushed hard enough to a breaking point, then it would be temporarily useless for now. His blood soaked hands clutch the sides of his head, the room now going dark with a hellish red glow pulsing above him.
When will it end? When will this nightmare stop? Why can’t he just enjoy the happy ending he rightfully deserves? Why couldn’t he-
A click of a front door’s lock alerts the presence of another, the door slowly creaking open as a lavender haired girl peers her head in, glancing from side to side. She takes notice of the empty living room, almost having expected to be bombarded with the worried cries of his partner. It was kind of silly, but she was waiting for Makoto to stroll up to her and begin his fretting, checking every inch of her despite her commenting that she was fine, if not a little roughed up. Maybe Togami-kun’s message had not gotten through properly? He had said that there was no response after he was only partway through his message, even though he swore he could hear something on the other end. She steps further inside, shutting the door behind her.
It’s...strangely silent.
It could be that Naegi was just taking rest in the bedroom, since she has walked into a serene, quiet home on more than one occasion due to that fact. She smiles and sets down her bag on the couch, letting it rest against the armchair. From her brief look into the kitchen it’s evident that he hadn’t been in there recently, but when she steps forward again she winces, pressing a hand to her knee. She had indeed been the victim of a crash, one she wished she could have paid attention to and swerved out of the way. But accidents are so quick there’s never really all that much time to react, is there? Thankfully, she had only received mild bruising around her legs, as well as a large one near her forehead. After being briefly looked over by the paramedics, she had no sign of a concussion, leaving her free to go home while the others were tended to. Unfortunately, her car had the rear side indented, the metal having been scratched and slightly torn. Thankfully she was offered a ride by Aoi, but the expenses of fixing their car sounded like a taxing thing to worry about. She’d discuss it later though, because right now she had to let Naegi know about her status, even if he was already told what happen.
She’d hate to keep him in such a nervous state of mind, and he may even need to be comforted with the fact that she was okay, but it’s more likely than not that the opposite would happen, the boy spending the rest of the day tending to her every beck and call. It was sweet of him, even if she insisted that she was perfectly well on her own. She remembers catching a cold one time and Naegi hardly left her bedside for those three days, wanting to make sure that it didn’t become something serious. It was a cute, if a little unecessary.
“Naegi-kun?” She asks as she enters the bedroom, immediately surrounded in darkness. She puts together that he was most likely sleeping, so it was viable to keep her voice down so as to not disturb him. The lavender haired girl closes the door behind her, plunging her in a near pitch black room. Seconds before the light diminished however, she spotted the empty, flat sheets of the neatly made bed, stunning the girl. If he wasn’t in bed, then… Her gaze flits over to the only other source of light, a crack from the bottom of a closed wooden door just a few feet away from the left side of the bed. Her eyes trail upward, stepping closer. They had a bathroom installed within their bedroom, making it much more convenient for them whenever they needed to shower or get ready for the day.
As Kyoko moves closer, something...tugs at her. A deep, instinctual feeling she’s always trusted, making her stop inches away from the door. She’s met with hesitation to open it, even though she can hear shuffling from the other side. There was no sign of a break in, and there’d be no point in hiding inside the bathroom since it would be the most cornered place of the house, preventing the chance of escape, so that could be ruled out. Maybe it was just that Naegi had finished taking a shower, and he was about to step out!
So why was that gut feeling trying to pry her away from the door? Her shoulders tense, staring at the door that seemed to loom over her ominously, tempting her to open it and see what’s on the other side. She takes a slow, easy breath and sighs. She had nothing to fear, it was just Makoto on the other end. And even if it wasn’t he was still inside the house, meaning that if there were an attacker on the other side, he’d be sure to come to her aid. When she finally opened the door, she was greeted with an outpour of light, and yet, she was bathed in the same eerie silence she was before. Her focus is immediately caught on the closed shower curtain, her mind quickly noting the fact that there was no sign of her husband. She shuts the door behind her with the sole of one of her boots, the door clicking once before it shut, followed by another a few seconds after it.
Kirigiri approaches the cloaked shower, hearing water fall from the shower head drop by drop, creating a rhythmic pattern that seems to fall in line with her own heartbeat. That instinct of dread comes back, a bit concerned as to what’s on the other side. But...why was there need for any worry? An extremely brief glance at the cabinet reveals it to have been opened, just barely closed by an inch or so. She takes that into note, seeing a flash of orange in the sink before her attention went back on the curtain.
She was well aware that Naegi had recently ran out of his supply of medication, and with the knowledge that he could have potentially been the one to raid the cabinet for his pills, left an unsettling feeling work its way up within the girl. If he already knew he was out, that he was actually expecting a phone call today about the subject of resupplying his meds, then why did he bother to try and go through them again? There was the off chance he had simply knocked it down into the sink, but he wouldn’t be so careless as to leave it there and not fully close the cabinet, unless he was in a rush. But he didn’t have anywhere to go. Her only branching theory on that is...maybe he went off to get his restock of medication? But...the other car didn’t appear to have moved from its spot from when she first left in her own car, meaning that Makoto more likely than not hadn’t even left the house in the time that she was gone.
Her only other theory was one that didn’t sit well with her, being something of a worst case scenario. It was the one that made the most sense, and… She shakes off any grim thoughts, realizing that Naegi could also be hurt, or even unconscious. That would explain the silence, the constant tapping of the showerhead that now sounded off. It was like, every time the drop hit the tub floor, it was followed by a hollow thunk of an echo, sounding off-putting to anyone who normally heard the tap drip into the sink.
She clutches the plastic shower curtain, holding her breath as she draws it back, praying she didn’t see the unconscious body of her husband sprawled out on the tub or a crook hiding behind it. Luckily, or Unluckily, she was greeted with neither, nothing more than a clean, empty tub on the other side of the curtain. She leans away, standing up straight and tilting her head up at the showerhead, her piercing lavender gaze locked onto the water falling from the edge. Drop by drop it fell, only pausing for a second before another one fell in its stead.
For a while, Kyoko let her gaze start at the top, and drag to the bottom, going in a continued loop until...something caught her eye at the bottom. The resounding echo as the droplet splashed from its great height splattered in various directions before soaking into other droplets of water. However, that wasn’t what had garnered her attention. It was the clunking sound that she head a second after each time the drop hit the floor. Drop. Splash. Thunk. Drop. Splash. Thunk. Over and over it went on, continuing in the same repetitive fashion.
It was only until she opened her palm beneath the showerhead that she caught the droplet, the loud echo now coming to a stop.
She bristles when she hears an uncoordinated thunk yet again.
It was not coming from the shower drain, she now realizes, letting the droplets begin to fall and coat her palm in wetness. Now that Kirigiri was able to pinpoint the source of the sound, she swallows, easily able to tell that it had come from behind her. She heard something twisting against wood, faint yet audible. She takes one final glance at the tub only to spot a glaring piece of evidence she had looked over. In the far corner of the tub, were broken bits of plastic, clearly from that of a shaving razor. Except...the razor itself that would normally be contained within was nowhere to be seen. Her whole body stiffens, putting together just what was embedding itself into the wooden door in time with the falling water. She steps back, letting the droplets flow properly into the tub again.
She feels a set of eyes on her…
It’s only then that she decides to turn around, unprepared to face whatever the hell had simply watched her in their own twisted amusement, waiting for her to put all the pieces together.
Kyoko catches it in the reflection of the mirror cabinet first. There’s that first second where she doesn’t recognize him, but soon enough the easily distinct figure of her husband makes itself known, slouched against the door with both arms at his side, one hand lazily twisting and wrenching the edge of the razor blade into a marked, scratched up section of the door. She whirls around and gasps, eyes wide with terror. Before she can react, something latches onto her wrist and hauls the girl over to the door. When her back hits the door the movement is surprisingly gentle, but the harsh thud of two hands pressing on either side of the door and between her figure makes her jolt.
“Kyo-san!” The voice comes out as manic, bark like laughter as her husband studies the confused girl, as if she were an attraction to gawk at rather than a person. She leers away slightly, her face contorted into a wince as she averts his gaze. God, she hated those eyes. Glowing red with insanity and a craving for death in contrast to the warm, vibrant green that was so full of life, the complete opposite of Makoto. The complete opposite of Hope. She damn near kicks him on reflex when she feels him cup her cheeks, one of his thumbs gliding over the smooth skin.
“K-Kyo-san!” He repeats, sounding so ecstatic yet filled with pain. He tilts his head slightly, leaning back a little when she notices the uncomfortable grimace on her face. “Kyo-san, Kyo-san!” He chirps the name again, looking her over. When his hand trails over her lavender hair, he pauses when he sees the large welt near her temple, his smile falling into that of surprise. Then, his demeanor picks back up, his smile returning with a single twitch of his lips, gaze now directed onto the girl he won’t stop singing about. “I-I’ve been waiting! I missed you so much, and now you’re here! You’re h-here, Kyo-san! I missed you, a-and now your here!” Was he even aware that he was repeating himself? From her standpoint, probably not.
Kirigiri makes an attempt to be subtle about her nervous glance of the razor, but the unhinged boy instantly notices, like he’s observing every little movement from her. “O-Oh!” He nearly shouts, his body vibrating in excitement. “Oh right, y-yeah! Yeah that, I-I’m not gonna use it on you! But you p-probably already knew that! A-Already know...e-everything…” He takes his eyes off her for just a moment to laugh shortly at himself. “I wanted to do it immediately, w-wanted to go on and get it over with! B-Bu-But! But I c-couldn’t do it without your permission! Y-Yeah, needed permission!” He nods to himself in agreement, Kyoko putting together as to what he was inferring to. And with it, she suddenly realizes that if she hadn’t entered the house, he wouldn’t feel as obliged to end his life right now.
“Makoto, wait-”
“Wait?” He cuts her off, that being the few words she could slip in. “W-Wait….Wait! Oh, I getcha!” He leans in closer to her, and only now she realizes how awkward it is because he was bare before her. She had to snap him out of it, had to ease him down before helping coax him back to reality like she and her friends have done. It was a shame Naegi could never realize when he was having an episode, besides controlling the warning signs of one. But when he was like this, he had no sense of awareness, only when he had finally broken out of his hypnosis that he realized what he had done.
“W-Wanna drag it out?”
His head cocks to the side, grin bearing down on her like a large canine looming over its prey. The only exception was, despite his swirling gaze being so riddled with death and despair, there seemed to be only pure adoration and care put forth towards the lavender haired girl. Love and affection she usually saw within Makoto when he wasn’t like this, but she easily detected the downright obsessiveness lingering beneath. The constant need to hang onto her every word, to listen to her commands and make sure she wasn’t in any real danger. She felt threatened, sure, but Makoto only ever tried to harm himself. This was certainly different and unexpected, but the mannerisms were similar enough to where she knew he wouldn’t try anything.
“Drag ou-”
“Yeah! D-Drag it out! Keep me alive s-so that I can suffer more! K-Keep the misery fresh so that I won’t be able to experience the relief of death until you say so! My own p-personal hell...h-hell on earth! Yeah- God I missed you so fucking much I’m so sorry! S-So sorry I let this happen twice that I let everyone die be-because of me but it’s okay! It’s okay...b-because I’m gonna...g-gonna make up for it...gonna-” He pauses as a harsh twitch wracks his body, his voice increasing in pitch for a second. “Suffer so you guys can finally have your justice! Then I can eliminate my life l-like I should have! Everything will be….o-okay….” He sounds out of breath by the time he’s finished, taking in uneven breaths as he just stares at her with widened, excited eyes. “So…” He says after a long minute of silence. “H-How do you want me to mutilate myself from the inside out…?”
“I don’t!” Kyoko snaps, finally snapping out of her shock induced fear and pushing him away with her palm, trying to give a gentle shove rather than a hard slam. “N-Naegi-kun, listen to m-”
“Of course! I’ll always listen, a-always...l-listen...should’ve listened back when you were a-alive but now e-every one of your com-commands are my thoughts!”
Alive? What the hell was he talking about? Unless...oh God. Oh God, it was the phone call that set him off, wasn’t it? She sighs, realizing that maybe Naegi shouldn’t have been informed about her accident in the first place. She steps closer to her, glad that he didn’t try to move away from her as she advanced. “I’m alive,” She states firmly, forcing herself to look into his hollow red gaze. She takes his hand, the one holding the razor and quickly plucks it from his hand before tossing it in the sink, lifting it up and pressing his palm to her chest, the lavender haired girl saying nothing as she lets him feel her pulsing heartbeat. “You have nothing to end your life over, o-okay? You’re the Ultimate Hope, and you’ve achieved so many great accomplishments. Our friends wouldn’t want you to die, they’d want you to march onward no matter what.”
“E-Eh?” Naegi leans back a little, slightly confused. He...He could feel a heartbeat! So...So she was alive! But she was still injured...still hurt because of him it’s all his fault his fault his fault his faul- “Oh!” His warped mind recontextualizes what she says, eager to please her helpful words. “Of course they wouldn’t! I’m acting so f-fucking stupid! I shouldn’t die, I-I don’t deserve death! I should wander aimlessly for the rest of my pitiful life, never knowing how fucking good it feels to die. I want to so bad, I-I’m not sure...what I’d do if you told me to d-die on the spot….~”
Kyoko tenses slightly when she notices his face turn flush, a pink hue coating his cheeks, although it was slightly hard to tell because of the glow around his eyes. But she could easily see the dreamy, half lidded gaze and the parted smile, his hand clutching his cheek as he’s lost in what she assumes is a brief fantasy. He...he wasn’t that into the concept of dying, right? He wouldn’t take his demented thoughts of mutilating himself be turned into something...perverse, would he? On second thought, she decides on avoiding to glance down the rest of the time, because she really doesn’t want to know the answer.
“Makoto…” Kyoko’s voice softens, trying a different approach as she clutches his wrists, capturing his immediate attention. His lustful expression turns curious, head tilted down to look at her. “We all care about you, and this...this isn’t right. It’s not...not good for you.” She knows she can convince him into breaking his brainwashing, but there was a question burning in her mind that she had to know the answer of, and maybe the boy before her knew. “How long do you think this will last? Not just this episode, I-I mean every time you have one. I don’t understand why that brainwashing video is still affecting you, e-even though it was only designed to keep you entrapped until you took your own life, i-it should’ve stopped entirely once it failed!”
“Exactly!” He shouts, his voice high pitched with a laugh thrown into the singular word. “It was only supposed to stop once I die, s-so...so how do we know it doesn’t stop until that happens? Have you ever considered that maybe it only stops working because once they’re dead, the brain stops working? Then again…” He starts to step closer, drawing in on her as his engaged expression turns dull, his glowing red eyes not leaving her as she’s backed against the door a second time. “They all died with horrified expressions, so maybe it wore off in the last moments.” He sighs, pinning her between the door yet again as he leans forward, his stare hazy and half closed. A dry chuckle falls past his lips, smile returning. “Wouldn’t it be so nice for me to just...revert back seconds before I died? I’d b-barely have any time to comprehend what I had done to myself! But...but Kyoko, I’m sure you know how to put a stop to this…” He teases, tilting her chin up much to the girl’s wariness. “Because you’re just...So. Damn. Smart.” That last word came out through grit teeth, although his smile still remained plastered on his face.
There were two options for Kirigiri at this point. Either fight back and restrain him, or play along. It was obvious which choice was sensible, since giving into the charade would only further destroy his mental state. This was potentially her last chance to get him out of this before having to wait hours on end for a vulnerable opportunity, so she decided to not reserve her emotions, something she only does in Naegi’s presence. “Naegi-kun…” she starts, the cold tone leaving her voice and being replaced with the true concern that had been lying underneath and threatening to topple over for quite some time. “Please, h-have you considered that...that if you hurt or k-killed yourself, that...that you’d hurt me, even if you thought you were doing the opposite?”
“I-” He seemed to have a response at the ready, but his eyes widen, doing a double take as he’s hit hard. “But…”
“If I’m alive, then...then there’s no reason if you intended on killing yourself over my non-existent death.”
“It’s not just y-”
“I know!” She snaps, her resolve crumbling before him. “I-I know, and there’s...there’s so much that we can’t fix, th-that you probably won’t be able to get over, b-but I know you can move forward from it. You l-learn and keep going in the face of despair, all for the sake of hope! For the sake of our friends both alive and dead. But...why am I even telling you this?” Her tone turns huffy, irritation brimming within her. “Y...You’re the Ultimate Hope, I shouldn’t have to tell you this?”
“The Ultimate Hope who’s gotten all his friends k-killed!” His grin returns, his left eye twitching an inconsiderable amount as he steps back from the girl.
“Naegi!” She wants him to quit it, wants all this to go away, but...it must be so fucking hard for him to break from it. Her eyes close, a groan leaving her as she clutches her hands into tight fists, letting that anger simmer and dissipate. “You know you’re better than this, y-you already know what I’ve just said to you. I’m not going to b-become an echo chamber for what’s already in your mind. I don’t need to tell you this, b-because I already believe in you. Even when you’re...like this, I know you’ll always come back, and some part of you knows that you always come back too…”
“I…” Naegi’s gaze turns towards the door and without warning, he rushes for it, shoving past Kyoko and out into the bedroom.
The lavender haired girl whips around and follows instantly, light pouring into the darkness as she hauls herself over to the lanky boy, her weight shifting as the pair are pulled onto the bed. She had only wanted to grab him, to stop him from doing something inane, but this seemed like a better outcome.
“Naegi-kun I’m really sorry about this!” She exclaims as she works to pin him down, his head hitting the pillow with a soft thud. Restraining him during his despair episodes was a last resort, unless of course he was threatening himself with a weapon, then that was the exception. She recalls times where Togami had kept his arms restrained from under him so that he couldn’t try and hurt himself, which thankfully he broke out of that trance after fifteen minutes. Speaking of, once the boy settles beneath her after a few moments of struggling, it becomes hard to tell wether or not the tension has dissolved or increased rapidly.
“H-How long have you been in your episode?” Kirigiri asks calmly, keeping her hands latched around his wrists. Her grip isn’t tight, but it’s firm enough to let him know that she wasn’t going to let him run off and do who knows what. “Please, t-tell me.”
“How long…?” The question makes Naegi tilt his head back slightly, mulling the question over. Normally he’d just laugh, only caring about the prospect of death, but she, she would be obeyed! He’d listen to any request she offered, her words such sweet gospel to him, his own personal harbinger. “‘Bout twenty minutes…” He murmurs, a small chuckle brimming up from his chest. “Little bit before you got here, actually.”
“Good, th-thank you,”
She hears an audible gasp from Naegi when she thanks him, now noticing how is eyes had lit up at such a small praise. She nearly blushes, the situation now feeling rather strange to her rather than a typical protocol. “Nae-”
“What else can I do for you?” It’s short and straight to the point, his body shaking in anticipation beneath her with a widespread grin. “I-I promise I’ll listen! Even if you don’t want me t-to hurt myself r-right now I…” His thoughts trail off, blinking slowly at her. “I missed you so much,”
“I know Naegi-kun, I...I missed you too.”
“You missed s-seeing me like this,” He corrects her, smirking up at her.
“No,” The reaffirmation is stern, yet the voice is gentle in demeanor, her grip tightening just the slightest. “I missed you, Makoto.”
“M-Me?” The boy is at a complete loss. Surely he wanted her to die, right? Maybe Kirigiri was playing some kind of game with him! One where she pretends to care only to rip it out from under him once he dares to try and feel hope again! He couldn’t think about living, not one bit! Even if he’d suffer for longer, this was all a test set up by his wife who he adores so much. She’ll be so much happier without him to drag her down, her own career would skyrocket with him out of the picture. The thought of dismantling his soul, ripping himself apart and the end result being a satisfied Kyoko enthralled him, the boy swallowing hard as his mind drifted off. She’d probably revel in his blood soaked form, slowly licking off whatever had splattered onto her beautiful pale complexion, the image of hot, wet pink against it seeming to suit her lavender eyes well. She’d stare down at him with glossy eyes, so full of life and excitement as she watched the person who damned her slowly leave this earth before her. And the idea of her telling him what to do, how to drag a knife over his skin and to choke himself to the point where it was just enough to keep him conscious to elongate his deserved suffering, her cooing voice in his ear, praising him each time he did as requested, bound to the bed and having to struggle to destroy himself to her desires…
Kyoko notices how his swirling red eyes are just barely closed, his breathing getting heavier by the second as he stares up at her blankly. “Naegi-kun?” Her voice makes him blink, so enamored by it, so in love with the fake concern that almost sounds real. He gives a partial smile in response, his thoughts clearly elsewhere but at the same time, centered entirely on her. She cups his cheek, the contact making his breath hitch as a shiver passes through his spine. What was she going to do? Rake her nails over his face? Tear out his throat, gouge out one of his eyes? Oh there were so many possibilities that such a simple touch could do, as well as create such a major reaction.
It doesn’t take long before she realizes he’s enjoying her voice and touch, but...it’s not like how he was before. He’d usually laugh and fawn over her, which to be fair his eyes were filled with devotion both for and to her, under the impression that he was a servant to her until she found him useless and topped it off by ending himself to her delight. But...there was something hidden beneath, something she can’t quite place her finger on since he doesn’t go through such an emotion all that often given his kind, consistently flustered demeanor.
But something made her catch on, an indicator to his true feelings lying just underneath the surface. Maybe it was just her imagination, but...she had to make sure. “Makoto, what are you thinking about?” She asks a little too impatiently, her voice turning stern yet again, her hand not moving away from his cheek.
Naegi, upon hearing her voice once more, leans into the falsely soothing touch of her hand, a pleased hum escaping him as his eyes shut for a moment. He breathes in slowly, his body arching slightly before coming back down when he exhales, as if straining against something. He turns back to face her, his eyes barely open at this point as he answers, voice slurred. “‘M just thinking about you...telling me how to disfigure myself until I’m just a stain you have t-to….clean up~” She can see him visibly swallow, like it was hard for him to get those last few words out. Everything fell into place here, his tone of voice, the look in his eye, that feeling that was barely present but now making itself more and more known.
The fact of the matter was, when the boy’s episode had begun, he had just stepped out of the shower. And because he had completely disregarded any sensibility, he was without a towel, and still was, so when Kyoko pinned him, straddled him, she could feel the slight twitches and movements from every part of his body that was making contact with hers.
“Naegi-kun!” She squeaks, her cry of embarrassment seemed to snap him out of his daze, sitting up slightly upon hearing his beloved sound so surprised. He’s however pushed back down by a single hand on his chest, the person attached to it staring him down with narrowed eyes, a look of contempt mixed in with a heavy, flustered blush.
“Wh-Why would you get that kind of...e-emotion from such thoughts?” Of course she knew why, the answer was staring right back at her, the light of the open bathroom door casting light and shadows down upon the pair. There was no bother in asking, and she’d probably get a cryptic answer anyhow. However, his answer completely floored her.
“How come you haven’t gotten o-off yet?”
“What?” She asks, doing a double take at the question. Why hadn’t she...what?
“Yeah,” His demeanor is calmer than normal now, as if more tired than anything. He glances down, then back up at her widened eyes. “You c-can get off of me if you d-don’t...don’t like it.” He’d probably receive a punishment for acting like some...lowly dog begging for a treat and constant praise, but it’s well deserved, so there’s nothing to really complain about.
“What on earth are you...I-I wouldn’t! I mean, I would, I-I will!” She really should climb off of him, because he was just being downright perverted at this point! Somehow, disturbed thoughts of her ordering him around was...enamoring to him. She turns her head away, avoiding his gaze as she remains in place, silence filling the room.
“Are you enjoying this?”
It sounds almost innocent, were it not for the hollow tone of his voice. “I-” She bristles, her face now tinted a hot pink from how hot her cheeks had become. “Just...N-No, but I…” She’s never had to pause so much in her life, nor did it take her so long to gather her thoughts to form a proper response.
“Hey, Kyo-san?”
She doesn’t respond. All Naegi gets in return is a narrowed gaze, waiting for his next words which he should choose *very* carefully.
“Could you...st-stay awhile?”
“What? I’m not going to stay on top of you if you’re going t-”
“Not like that….” He interrupts, voice slow and methodic. “Not like that. Just...stay. Don’t...Don’t want you to leave. N-Need to be around you! Have to wait for your instructions a-after all!”
“I’m not going to tell you to hurt yourself, and I certainly won’t and will never obtain any enjoyment from it.” She says, rejecting the boy’s proposition. “I don’t want you too, and it isn’t to make you miserable either. I want you to be safe and happy, s-something I’m not so sure you can properly experience in this state unless it’s been warped to your own design. If you w-want to listen to me, here’s this: Don’t treat me like I’m superior to you. We’re equal, okay? You’re not a horrible person, a-and you don’t need to obey me. Doing terrible things to yourself won’t make you happy, e-even if your mind is telling you that it will right now.”
“Oh…” Makoto goes quiet at that, the gears in his head turning as her words clash with his own despaired thoughts. She couldn’t be right, because he deserved to die! Didn’t he…? Why was she so insistent on the opposite? Of continuing onward as the sick monster that parades around in the mask of ‘Ultimate Hope’? Did she not understand how awful he was? That...That he had gotten her poisoned and left one side of her face with permanent alterations? Why was she so...so forgiving? Wasn’t...Wasn’t he forgiving? Yeah, he was to a degree, at least when he’s masquerading in that false hope he preaches so much. So….So if Kyoko was being genuine, her words, her expressions of horror and worry for the boy being real, then...did that mean her forgiving nature was too? Should...he be more forgiving of himself?
Kyoko feels Makoto sit up, despite her trying to keep him down, and shift slightly before slumping against her back, his arms curling around his waist as his head touches her back. “‘M sorry,” He mutters, his grasp soft and relaxed. “I d-don’t….don’t want you to be uncomfortable but I...I d-don’t understand. I’ve done this s-so...so many times, so why’re you always so nice to me? Why do you forgive me so easily?”
“Because this...this brainwashed despair state you’re in, it’s not you.” Kyoko’s heart races slightly, feeling as if she’s reached a vulnerable spot within him, the potential to bring him out of it arising. “I think the both of us know that, but it might be buried deep away and hard to find again in your case. But you always do. You always bounce back Makoto. When you’re like this, and in all the other situations we’ve been in. You’ve never given up on yourself or everybody else, and it’s what makes you unique.”
“I’m not...unique though..j-just...just plain.”
Kyoko shrugs, allowing him to nuzzle the back of her neck. “Well, that makes you interesting. You may be plain, or consider yourself to be, but look at all you’ve accomplished. It means that anyone can do what you do.”
“Ah, I’m not...not special. You are though.” He smiles, an awkward chuckle breaking out from him. “It t-takes a lot, to stay so reserved and calm under intense pressure. I usually freaked out or c-cried while you...you kept yourself strong.”
“You were pretty collected in the final killing game,” She objects, pointing out that he had carried himself well during the second game.
“Yeah…” His grip tightens on her, dark thoughts of that game returning to him. “I’m so sorry, a-about everything that happened….” He blinks, red diminishing back to hazel.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Naegi-kun.” The lavender haired girl advises.
“Mhm. Maybe….Maybe I shouldn’t think about it too much. I’ll...wait until my...p-pr-prescription is ready…”
“You want me to get it for you?” She doesn’t mind offering, since he seemed to be in such a fragile state anyhow.
“No,” His answer is short and quick. Of course he wasn’t going to let her go out onto the road after she just got into a car accident! That’d be ridiculous! “Y-You’ve had enough trouble today, I’ll pick it up.”
“At least let me go with you,”
“Kyoko-”
“I want to make sure you’ll be alright.” Sure, he had snapped out of his despair episode, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t come back since he’s without medication to sedate it.
“I… Okay. C-Could I….Could I look you over? Y-You know, make sure your bruises aren’t bothering you?”
“Oh,” Kyoko pulls away before turning back and moving onto the bed, laying down where Naegi once was. She looks up at him, just to ensure that his eyes had gone from red, to hazel, before resting on the green she’s familiar with. She holds back a relieved sigh when he comes back into the light of the bathroom pouring out from the door, revealing soft emerald eyes that scan over her bruised body.
“Can’t believe I didn’t a-ask if you were okay…” He says softly, mostly taking to himself as he lifts up one of her legs and inspects it, the welt on her pale skin obvious. He winces, a chill crawling down his spite at the unnerving sight.
“You don’t have too if the sight makes you uncomfortable,”
“I-It’s fine, Kyoko!” He reassures her, pausing to take his stare off her leg and back to her eyes, flashing her a soft smile before going back to the much needed attention of her smooth leg. He gently places two fingers over the black and purple blotch that looks like corruption seeping into her pristine skin, slowly infecting her little by little. “Does it hurt at all?”
She shakes her head in response, the feeling light and feathery. “No. In all honesty I haven’t really thought about the pain once I entered the bathroom." If anything truly hurt the most, it was her head, a mild throbbing causing light pain to the side of her head. She feels Naegi put a bit of pressure on the bruise, knowing he’s handling her like glass that could break under the smallest touch. He looks back over to her, silently asking how she felt. “Still doesn’t hurt.”
“O-Okay,” Makoto smiles, glad that wasn’t causing her any immense pain. He grips the hemline of her shirt, stopping before catching her eye once more. “C-Can I check?” Once he’s given a nod of confirmation he lifts her shirt up before stopping just below her chest, spotting the large bruise spanning along her side. He gasps, surprised from how it ran across a good part of her body. “K-Kirigiri-san….” That must’ve been terribly painful, to be struck in the ribs like that. She was lucky none of them had been cracked or broken.
“It’s...It’s fi- Ah!” The moment she cries out Naegi instantly pulls his hand back, having immediately put pressure on the bruise this time.
“Sorry, sorry!” He squeaks, feeling terrible that he had caused her pain.
“N-No, don’t worry.” A hiss escapes through her clenched teeth, eyes squeezed shut as she waits for the pain to ebb away. “I m-might need soometing for th-that one in particular.” She comments, trying to lighten the mood even though that wasn’t exactly her forte.
“I-I’ll get you something once I look over your head!” He promises, gently clutching her chin and turning her head to the side, revealing the final major bruise. She had other small ones littered around her body, but looked to be the most painless. He frowns when he sees the dark shiner on her head, noticing that it’s a bit swollen. He doesn’t dare touch it, knowing it’d most definitely hurt if her did. “I-I dunno what’s worse, the fact that it barely missed your good eye or that it nearly cracked your skull.”
“It isn’t that harsh of a wound,” She hopes that the boy won’t go into his ‘fretting mode’ where he looks after her so much that he forgets to take care of himself and has to be reminded by her. Again, she didn’t mind the attention and affection, but not at the expense of her partner’s own health, mental or physical.
“Still, I don’t want it to get any worse. Do you think you need to see a doctor about it?”
“The paramedics said to just get some rest at home, maybe put some ice on it, but other than that I should be well off.”
Makoto nods silently, still focused on the wound that needs to be tended to. “I can go get you an icepack, if you’d like.”
“I-” She’s about to reject the offer, to say that she just needed rest. But the temptation of cool relief to the throbbing pain sounded like a heavensent. “Please, i-if you could.”
“Of course!” He chirps, getting up from the bed. It’s for only a minute that she’s surrounded by pure quiet, finding it rather relieving when Naegi returns, a cool icepack in hand. “H-Here you go,” He keeps his voice quiet, shutting the bathroom door behind him so the light wouldn’t bother her. He presses the freezing object to her head, the girl’s eyes closing upon the icy contact with her bruise. She nods, murmuring thanks to him as she grasps the pack herself, keeping it pressed to that side of her head.
“You should get some rest,” Naegi starts, clambering into the bed beside her. “If that’s what the paramedics said anyway.”
“But what about you?” She turns her head to face him, concern lacing her gaze that couldn’t be seen in the darkness. “What if you have an episode while I’m asleep? Or have a nightmare that triggers one?”
Makoto stops himself, chewing at his bottom lip in contemplation before coming to a conclusion. He pulls the sheets over the both of them, material ruffling as it’s shifted and distorted until both of them rest cozily beneath it. He takes hold of her free hand, deciding against draping an arm of her her waist because of her bruise. “If that happens, then….you’ll be able to feel it, s-so you can wake up too when you don’t feel me next to you.” It was flawed logic, but anything worked if it was to ease Kyoko’s concerns.
Kyoko smiles at that, finding it to be a temporary, but hopefully effective solution to that. “Alright, rest well Naegi-kun.”
“You too, Kirigiri-san…” He murmurs softly before settling down in the blankets with his wife, the pair now secluded in the warm, comforting darkness that surrounds them, staying side by side to look out for one another.