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Makoto stared at the streak of Kyoko’s blood on his palm, the sound of the waves around him keeping him grounded on reality. He was still in disbelief that she was gone. Kyoko was always so strong . However, Makoto knew that that was what allowed her to give in to her forbidden action. His eyes welled up with tears, which he brushed away with a sniff. He would have time to mourn later. He needed to get back to his friends, and out of that wretched site that used to stand as HQ for the Future Foundation.
Behind him, Makoto heard the clicking of boots against the hard ground. Strangely familiar boots and he rummaged through his mind for the culprit. He didn’t know who could be behind him, everyone was boarding the ship at that moment. Out of curiosity and regard for his own safety (the killing games had heightened his self-awareness, for better or for worse), Makoto turned around.
All he could do was stare, a gasp escaping his mouth like he’d seen a ghost. To his knowledge, he very well could be seeing a ghost. He was met with long lavender hair and soft violet eyes; a startlingly real Kyoko Kirigiri. Her left eye was swollen shut and smeared with blood, the left side of her face a veiny, toxic purple. But she stood there in one piece, a small, shy smile gracing her lips when she realized Makoto had noticed her.
“...Kirigiri?” Makoto breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from the enigma of a girl in front of him. He longed to run to her and hold her close, never to let go of her again but was afraid she would simply dissipate in his arms if he tried.
Kyoko’s small smile grew, the softest look he’d ever seen on her. “Yeah, it’s me.”
At hearing this, Makoto felt his feet move before he could think. The next thing he knew, he had his arms wrapped around Kyoko, hot tears streaming down his face. “It’s really you,” he choked out between sobs. “You’re alive.”
She stiffened for a moment, Kyoko had never been good at handling sudden physical contact, but hugged Makoto back with a warm sigh, bending down slightly to bury her head into his shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re still here,” she whispered. “That you never gave in to despair.”
Pulling away ever so slightly, Makoto blinked back a few tears. “Of course not, I could never let your sacrifice be in vain. I- what you did was so brave. It, no, you mean so much to me, I couldn’t just let that go to waste.”
Makoto didn’t really know what he was saying, tears and snot all over his face, his mind running a mile a minute from the feeling of pure joy. Regardless, Kyoko seemed to understand; her small smile only grew and a few stray tears escaped her good eye. The detective reached into her pocket, procured a handkerchief, and gently wiped under his eyes. For a moment the two just stared at each other, taking time to acknowledge that they were alive.
“Wait, we’re leaving soon, we have to tell the others! And oh my god you were poisoned, you have to get medical attention and-”
Kyoko placed a gloved hand on his shoulder, cutting him off. “I’ll keep this brief, but Kimura had made a drug that I took before the fourth time limit. I didn’t know if it would effectively work against the poison, so I didn’t say anything. Apparently, someone pulled me from my… coma. Besides, you look to be in worse shape yourself.”
She gestured to his face and Makoto suddenly remembered being repeatedly punched in the face by Munakata, as well as the sting in his leg. He’d had a small treatment performed by Mikan, but most certainly could benefit from a trip to a hospital.
“Yeah, we should get out of here.” Kyoko hummed in agreement as they reluctantly separated. But before Makoto could lead the way back, he felt her gloved hand reach for his own. A slight blush formed on both of their faces and Makoto held her hand tightly, but not so much as to be uncomfortable.
Finally, Makoto grinned.
Squinting against the blinding hospital lights, Makoto shuffled his way down the corridor. He was stuck with crutches, for the time being, gauze wrapped securely around the slice on his leg. His face had also been patched up and a splint had been positioned on his nose. Aoi had fussed over his injuries for a while (along with Komaru, who had been picked up with Toko as promised) but Makoto assured them that it was nothing. He’d nearly been crushed to death back at Hope’s Peak, and while he didn’t like to think about it, he often used it as a reminder that if he could escape that certain demise, anything else he suffered would be next to nothing. Komaru had yelled at him about his lack of self-preservation after telling him to shut up.
The hospital was one of the few that was still standing after the Tragedy. Unfortunately, the hospital wasn’t in the best condition, but it was sanitary. Everyone who had survived the Final Killing Game was admitted and underwent treatment. Aoi had only light scratches and bruising, so she was discharged fairly quickly. Makoto was still admitted and would be until the wound healed enough, but he didn’t mind because it gave him an excuse to go see Kyoko. That happened to be where he was headed, and where he had just arrived.
Makoto stopped in front of one of many identical, sterile doors, the nameplate bearing Kyoko’s name. She had recently been in for eye surgery and a procedure to fully remove the poison from her bloodstream, and finally, Makoto would be allowed to see her.
He shifted his crutches to gently knock on the door. After a few seconds, it opened, a nurse looking back at him. She smiled.
“It appears you have a visitor,” she said, looking back to the corner of the room Makoto couldn’t see, and where Kyoko was situated. “Well, I’ve finished here anyway. I’ll be back when your test results return!”
The nurse slipped out of the room, winking at Makoto as she went. He felt himself blush before composing himself and going inside. Kyoko was settled in the bed with an IV in her arm, and Makoto couldn’t help but feel somewhat startled at seeing her in such a vulnerable state. The most drastic part wasn’t even the bandage on her left eye, it was that her gloves were lying on her bedside table as opposed to covering her scars. Makoto tried not to stare- he didn’t think they were ugly, he was just unaccustomed to seeing them. It took him a moment to realize that Kyoko was looking at him, a small smile playing on her lips.
“I get out of surgery and not even a hello,” Kyoko teased. Her voice was a bit weak and hoarse from the operation, and it appeared to bother her by the way she sunk into the blankets when she spoke. Regardless, she kept that smile and that mischievous glint in her eye.
Makoto couldn’t help but crack a nervous grin, a bout of laughter spilling out. “Well hello,” he said, reaching up to scratch his neck on impulse before remembering the crutches keeping him upright. His eyes softened. “I’m so glad to see you awake!”
“Thank you. I’m glad to see you’re ok, too.” She narrowed her eyes. “You can sit, you know.”
“Oh, right.” The still awkwardly standing Makoto went to sit in the visitor’s chair that just so happened to be placed right next to Kyoko’s bed. The nurse must have seen him coming, and he remembered that flippant wink.
Silence fell over the two for what felt like an eternity. They hadn’t had time to speak privately since they were first reunited because once they boarded the ship, Togami had many questions they needed to answer regarding the Final Killing Game. By the time they got a chance to rest, Kyoko had been rushed off to surgery and Makoto was getting his own injuries taken care of. The time in between had been spent in the captivity of his own mind where he could only panic about the others’ safety. Now that he had confirmation that they were going to be ok, he didn’t know what he was supposed to think, his mind strangely devoid of thought.
“Naegi.”
Makoto’s head snapped up to meet her gaze. Kyoko still wore an almost disinterested look (or the best she could do when on heavy painkillers), but her eyes were always her tell. When you bothered to look, you could see the concern written deep in her violet irises.
“Yeah?” he asked, trying to determine whether her concern was about herself or him without looking too obvious.
Kyoko’s gaze didn’t waver. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine!” he exclaimed a little too quickly. “All of my wounds are patched up and I’ll just be dealing with my broken nose and this cut on my leg for a while.” He chuckled.
“No,” she said, tilting her head forward. “How much have you been thinking? How many headaches have you been getting?” For a moment Makoto was puzzled, but then he realized what she was implying.
He looked down, averting his eyes. “Yeah, it’s… not great.”
Kyoko sighed but gave him a knowing look. “You shouldn’t let yourself get so worked up about what happened back at HQ. We all were affiliated with Hope’s Peak, and more than one of us survived the School Life of Mutual Killing.”
“I’m supposed to be the Ultimate Hope,” he whispered. “I should’ve been able to beat despair back where it came before anyone else died.”
“But you kept going, even when I was gone.” Like back in the Final Killing Game, Kyoko placed her scarred hand over Makoto’s. “You found my notebook, learned about the suicide video and put a stop to it as soon as you could.”
Tears threatening to spill over, Makoto spoke before he could stop himself. “I love you.”
Time stopped.
Kyoko’s breath hitched and her hand froze, his declaration running on a loop in her mind. Her brain normally took in information and analyzed it quickly, a good quality for a homicide detective. At this moment, however, it seemed the machine had been jammed.
“I’m sorry!” Makoto blurted. “I understand this is really sudden, and you probably don’t feel the same and you don’t have to! I just couldn’t keep it to myself and-”
Kyoko’s fingers laced with his own, to Makoto’s surprise. She turned her head away a little before mumbling, “I wouldn’t just sacrifice myself for anyone, you know.”
Could she mean…?
“I hope I didn’t startle you too much,” he began. “But it’s not a lie.”
A small laugh escaped her throat. “Yes, I could tell that much. And I… I think I feel the same. I may not show it, but I feel a lot for you. You’ve done so much for me, Makoto.”
He startled at the use of his first name but found that he didn’t mind at all. “But you’ve done so much for me! You saved me both at Hope’s Peak and at HQ.”
“You give me hope. You give us all hope.” She smiled for the second time since her pseudo death, and Makoto mirrored it.
Makoto realized just how close he had moved to her hospital bed since arriving there. The proximity was a little nerve-wracking, but also comforting. Reluctantly, he reached his free hand up to cup Kyoko’s cheek. Her slight blush deepened, but she made no move to pull away.
Shakily trying to maintain eye contact, he leaned in a little. “May I?”
Kyoko nodded, and he gently captured her lips with his own. While brief, it was so satisfying after so long of holding back.
She set her forehead to rest against his own and whispered, “I think I love you too.”