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Kyoko was slowly getting used to waking up beside someone else. It had been terribly awkward and foreign at first, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t understand the appeal of sleeping beside a loved one.
Because of this, it was now rather strange to be alone.
She wasn’t exactly sure what woke her, but there was something quite clear to her even before she opened her eyes; the other side of the bed was unoccupied. Her arm was outstretched, but it lay across cold sheets rather than a warm chest. She opened bleary eyes, blinking as she took in the dark room. Based on the curtains covering the windows, she could tell it was still late, or maybe just early morning. The house was quiet, and she was alone.
Pushing herself to sit up, she rubbed at her eyes, the blanket dropping from her chest and into her lap. There was no use just sitting there and wondering, so she tossed the blankets aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, bare feet touching the cold floor. A shiver ran down her spine, but she walked away from the warm bed anyway, pulling one of Makoto’s jackets closer to her body.
Out of their shared bedroom, she glanced down the hallway to the right. The bathroom door wasn’t closed. It had been one of her least likely guesses, but a possibility, nonetheless. Being a detective meant she could imagine many different possibilities when a mystery presented itself. Though this was certainly less of a mystery than what she normally dealt with.
She walked on the balls of her feet, mostly out of habit, keeping her steps quiet against the old wood floor as she headed down the hallway. Her eyes slowly began adjusting to the dark as her mind adjusted to consciousness, becoming more alert the more steps she took. Reaching the end of the hallway proved her first hunch to be correct.
The small, cozy living room was normally dark at this time of night, but the curtains against the window were drawn back, allowing stray beams of moonlight to stream into the room. At first glance, it would seem that the room was empty and that someone had simply just forgotten to draw the curtains, but out of habit, Kyoko always made sure to view things as thoroughly as she was able. And to the side of the couch, peeking just above one of the armrests, was a single cowlick that never stayed down, no matter what.
Quietly, she walked around the couch, making her steps just audible enough so that she would not startle him. Even as she entered the space she knew he would be able to see through the corner of his eye, he didn’t look at her. He was sitting on the floor against the armrest of the couch, knees to his chest, and a blanket pulled around his shoulders. Brown eyes that normally held warmth were dull and glazed, probably staring at nothing in particular despite his head tilted just slightly upward, giving the impression he might have just been looking out the window.
She knew better. She knew him too well.
She would be lying if she said the sight didn’t pull at her heart. Makoto Naegi had been an enigma, the one to defrost her icy heart, and ever since, she had become almost terrifyingly soft. Memories were certainly still hazy, but no one had ever had an effect of her like he had. He was the Ultimate Hope for a reason; and maybe, for that reason, it was difficult to remember sometimes that he was still young. They both were. And no matter how many times she would deny it outwardly, their time at Hope’s Peak had had a terrible effect on both of them. She...was just better at hiding it, though Makoto always worried about her no matter what, even if he couldn’t see the feelings she kept locked inside, while his were put on display for all to see. They were complete opposites, and she loved him more than anything else in the world.
That still scared her, but she knew better than to push him away. Pushing him away had led to more disaster than she anticipated. So she learned from her mistakes, and allowing herself to be open to love and receiving it in return had proven to be a lot...nicer than she’d previously thought.
Slowly, she stepped closer, crouching beside him. “Makoto.” The second her gloved hand touched his shoulder, he gasped, shuddering and deep, blinking glaze out of his eyes to try and focus onto Kyoko’s steady gaze.
It seemed, for a moment, he forgot to breathe; and then he exhaled slowly, managing a shy smile. It was almost as if he had returned back to his normal self right away. “Ah - I’m sorry, um...did I wake you? I tried to be quiet when I got up…”
Two thoughts immediately came to mind; one, even though he was always open, he tried to keep his more serious emotions at bay, which never could slip past her even though he tried each time. And two, he most likely had no idea how long he’d been sitting there and staring into space. She had a feeling that he’d been sitting there long before she came back to consciousness.
“No, you didn’t wake me up,” she replied, slowly removing her hand from his shoulder. She had no idea what to say at first. It wasn’t like she didn’t know what he was doing here; it wouldn’t take the Ultimate Detective to figure it out. Given that it was the middle of the night and he was awake and lost in thought, it could only have been a nightmare.
They stared at each other for a few moments in that silence while she thought about it. Makoto’s shy smile didn’t waver as he slowly outstretched the arm closest to her, allowing her room to sit next to him around the blanket. “Wanna join me?”
Despite herself, and despite the situation, she couldn’t help but close her eyes for a moment, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. She opened her eyes and slid in to sit beside him, pulling her side of the blanket over her shoulder. As their shoulders touched, she could feel him relax, and she couldn’t help but look over. He had returned his gaze toward the window, and in the moonlight she noticed the bags under his eyes and the way he blinked just a little slower than usual. So he was exhausted.
“...Do you want to talk about it?” This, of course, was the most logical course of action in this scenario. She kept her steady gaze on him, seeing the surprise line his features as he looked back at her, before being replaced by another small smile. She knew he knew he couldn’t fool her, though he still tried. That was just who he was. But after everything he’d done to help her, she thought it was only fair to, little by little, return the favor.
“Guess I can’t hide it from you, huh. I should know better by now.” So her guess had been proven to be right. There were a few moments of quiet which he was most likely using to gather his thoughts, eyes closed as he breathed in and out. Then he opened them again, letting out a dry laugh. “It’s kind of stupid.”
She shook her head. “Just tell me.”
He paused, then nodded, returning his gaze to the window with a sad smile, pulling his knees just a little closer to his chest. “I guess it was because I was thinking about it the other day, but I dreamed...it felt like we were back at Hope’s Peak.” His voice was soft and brittle. “I saw everyone again, and...all the bodies, the executions. All of it. It’s burned into my brain and I had to watch it all again.” He let out a shaky laugh this time. “You’d think after all this time it wouldn’t get to me as much.”
She couldn’t say she was surprised. Even while her memory had been hazy, seeing bodies hadn’t been a shock to her. But to Makoto, and mostly everyone else in their class, it had been. He had been just a normal boy before entering Hope’s Peak Academy. Thanks to Junko Enoshima, that had all changed.
Sighing, she kept her gaze on him. “Makoto, don’t you remember what you told me?”
“Huh?”
“You told me you would never get over their deaths. That you would ‘always carry them with you.’ It doesn’t matter how much time has passed.” She looked toward the window. “They were your... our friends, and they were driven to do terrible things for everyone else’s own filthy enjoyment.” That first night, when he’d said all that to her, it had been the first time she’d realized he was special. An enigma, and one to be wary of. She could almost laugh; if her past self saw where she was now, cuddled up next to that boy in the middle of the night, she wasn’t sure what she would do.
Leaning his head back against the armrest, Makoto smiled a little to himself. “Yeah, I did say that. I remember you telling me I was strong before I shouted at you.” He glanced back to her, some warmth returning to his eyes. She always loved the way he looked at her, as if she was the only woman in the world. It was stupid to think that way, or at least, she used to think that. Love...it wasn’t as terrible as she’d thought.
Kyoko reached for one of his hands, and he slowly let go of his knees, tucking them underneath himself instead. Their fingers intertwined. “You are strong. I still stand by that.”
Pink splashed across his cheeks; it wasn’t often she outright complimented him, but it wasn’t because she didn’t want to. It was more...she felt strange doing so. Perhaps one day she’d be able to. After all, Makoto had that certain effect on her.
“You know…” he yawned into his free hand, tired gaze shifting from the window to her. “There was one good thing about our time at Hope’s Peak.”
“Is that so?” she asked, raising a brow. “And what may that be?”
He smiled, tilting his head back to look up at the moon. “It brought me to you, of course. If anything, I’m grateful for that.”
Now it was her turn to blush. Damn Makoto, always saying things to throw her off. Even more unfortunate was that she had no response. It wasn’t as easy to fluster him anymore, not since they’d actually begun dating, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like to try. And now here he was, doing it to her. All she could do was scoff lightly, though it held no indignation because a smile gave her away. Dammit . She squeezed his hand instead of saying anything, and that seemed to suffice for him. He’d always been good at reading between the lines when it came to emotion, and now was certainly no exception.
An easy silence engulfed them as they both stared up at the moon. Based on its position in the sky, she could deduce that it was nearing two or three in the morning. There wasn’t much else to be said, so they didn’t. Besides, in a situation like this, she’d learned that just being there was enough. Speaking wasn’t always necessary.
Still, it was getting late. She was grateful she had woken up, even though she was certain he would have been fine on his own. Being someone’s girlfriend meant one had to care, and she certainly cared a whole lot more than she ever meant to. But was it really such a bad thing? She’d always been terrified of losing things; losing people like how she had lost her father. Makoto had taught her a lot of things; trust, hope, faith. He taught her how to no longer be afraid of these things. Most importantly, though, he allowed her to learn how to love again.
As she was beginning to think they should head back to bed, something caught the corner of her eye. Glancing to the side, she noticed his eyes were closed, chin dipping down toward his chest. His hand was limp in hers.
She found herself staring fondly for a few moments. He was so unbelievably stubborn, and though it could be infuriating, it was also endearing. The paradox was just fitting for a mystery like Makoto Naegi.
A part of her knew she ought to nudge him, to drag him back to bed with her so they could get some proper rest. But looking at him now, seeing the bags under his eyes in the shadow of moonlight, she didn’t have the heart to do it. He’d softened her in the way no one else had. Was that what love was? Well, she wasn’t sure if it was the same for everyone, but that was what it was to her, at least.
Love, to Kyoko, was Makoto.
She reached up, gently placing her hand on the opposite side of his head, guiding it to rest on her shoulder. He mumbled something under his breath, nuzzling his head closer, and then lay still. Now that she was alone, she smiled to herself as she pulled the blanket more snugly around him, gently placing a kiss to the top of his head. Leaning her head back against the armrest, her eyes took in the moon one more time.
His breaths, soft and even against her collarbone, were a comfort she never knew she wanted. And as she closed her eyes, her tired brain decided to voice one last thought. “I love you.”
As she drifted, though, she could have sworn she heard a mumbled response that sounded a lot like, “I love you, too.”