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The soft clinks of plates and glasses, pots and pans, all of it provided a familiar soundtrack to her thoughts. Someone had to empty the dishwasher, and taking care of the same duties she used to in the killing game provided some comfort. Some grounding. Others might think that going through the same routines would only worsen the traumatic memories, but Kirumi didn't feel that way. It was better to have something to do, even better if it was something useful. She didn't know who she was other than the Ultimate Maid.
Footsteps echoed against the dull beige floor tiles. Kirumi glanced up from the open dishwasher, curious about who would be wandering into the kitchen at this hour. It was past midnight. The only reason she herself was here was because she couldn't sleep, and because there'd be no one underfoot while she worked.
It was Akamatsu. Her hair glowed in the faint light like a halo. Her eyes were dull, dead. Her expression was flat where it once would have been lit up with optimism. She shouldered past Kirumi on the way to the fridge, wordless.
"Akamatsu-san," she said, sliding a stack of plates into the cupboard. "Do you need anything?"
"No," Akamatsu replied. Rather than looking for anything, she was just standing in front of the closed refrigerator door, frowning at Kirumi like she was some sort of alien. "Why do you still do that?"
"I'm sorry? I'm afraid I'm not sure what you mean. I only wish to support all of you." She clasped her gloved hands together, fingers interlocked. If she gripped tightly enough, maybe she'd feel like she still had some control. Akamatsu had chipped pink polish on her fingernails and lingering bruises on her neck, even though she'd never actually been hanged. Ultimate real fiction indeed. Kirumi hadn't been present for that revelation, but she heard about it later on.
"I mean you're not a maid anymore. You don't have to work for us. You can do what you want. Figure out who you are now. Not like that's easy, but it has to be better than just...still living out a lie. You're not actually as selfless as you look."
Neither are you, Kirumi wanted to say. Saihara had been worried that Akamatsu would be much worse, based on the audition video he'd seen. She wasn't a monster, wasn't cruel, but she also wasn't the bright, sunny protagonist they all came to know. She was harsh, cynical. Her words were blunt and she didn't bother to act happy when she didn't feel it. Nor did she put on a show of trust. In many ways, she was more honest than she used to be. Still, sometimes that old persona slipped out, like she was worried about others' feelings despite herself.
"This is what I enjoy," she said instead. Akamatsu scoffed and opened the freezer. She grabbed an ice cube and popped it in her mouth. The crunching sound of her biting down sent an uncomfortable chill down Kirumi's spine.
After putting away the last couple coffee mugs, she closed the dishwasher and leaned against it, arm propped against the counter. She never used to be the kind of person who was unsettled by silence. Or rather, the Ultimate Maid wasn't. Maybe that was a trait of the ordinary, untalented Kirumi.
"Are you sure about that?" Akamatsu said after what felt like an eternity. "Do you actually enjoy it, or do you just want to make everyone else happy to distract yourself from the fact that you're not?" There was a beat of silence, in which Kirumi genuinely didn't know what to say. Akamatsu broke the silence again instead, voice a little softer, a little more like it was in the killing game. "Or is it both?"
"I suppose it could be. I want to do what I can though."
"You can do anything. Whatever you want. We have no memories of this world. It might as well be brand new. So the Danganronpa employees say, anyway."
"Do you truly believe that? That we can make anything of ourselves when the world knows us only as killing game participants?"
"No," Akamatsu admitted, a bitter chuckle splitting the air. "Not really. Did it make you feel better though?"
"No," Kirumi said, because she didn't think she wanted her to lie. "Not really."
"Hmm." She hopped up to sit on the edge of the counter, and Kirumi had to bite her lip to fight back the urge to scold her for it. She wasn't really a maid anymore, after all. Technically, this kitchen wasn't her responsibility. It was Team Danganronpa's. "Maybe some sleep would. Are you about done here?"
She could be. She didn't have to do any of it in the first place.
"I was going to clean the coffee maker."
"I'll do it," Akamatsu said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and affecting a casual expression.
"Do you know how to do it properly?" she asked, still unnecessarily protective over this kitchen that wasn't hers.
"Yeah. I'll take care of it. Just... go take some melatonin and try to sleep. Maybe things will look better in the morning." Akamatsu's lips curled into a smirk then, something almost self-deprecating. "A whole new world, even."
Powerless to resist, she did.