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Someone was approaching from the hallway. It was hard to determine who from the click of their heels, but their fluttering voice could not be mistaken.
“Judgment member Shirai-san~”
Kuroko twitched at the overly friendly tone. “Shokuhou.”
Kuroko stood behind her desk, straightening a stack of papers as Misaki let herself in. While she looked particularly elated to see Kuroko, the feelings weren’t mutual. “Do you need something?” Kuroko asked out of obligation rather than curiosity.
“Misaka-san’s been giving me so much grief lately.” Misaki plopped herself down on the edge of Kuroko’s desk, bumping a stack of folders. “Whenever I wish to talk to her, she gives me the cold shoulder, and then she has the audacity to turn around and ask for my help. Do something about it, would you?”
“And what, exactly, do you expect me to do?” Kuroko raised an eyebrow.
“You’re a bright girl. Whatever works,” she said. “Knock some sense into her, tie her down until she behaves… you’d rather enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” Misaki giggled into her palm.
“If you do not have any legitimate requests, I will have to ask you to leave.”
“How cold, Shirai-san. Does Misaka-san speak that badly of me?”
“I am perfectly capable of forming my own opinions without Onee-sama’s input. Now, please,” Kuroko waved a hand. “I do not have time for this.”
“She’ll never love you, you know.”
Misaki’s words sliced the air, clean as a knife. Kuroko stopped.
“Pardon?”
“I said, she’ll never love you.” Misaki smiled. “She’s useless, that one — she can never see what’s in front of her. You’re more powerful than she gives you credit for.”
If this had come from anyone else, Kuroko would have dismissed it in a heartbeat. But this was Shokuhou Misaki. There was a sudden seriousness in her expression that filled Kuroko with dread — Misaki wasn’t joking, not in the slightest, and she was only getting started.
“Shokuhou,” Kuroko said, a little tentative. “I asked you to leave.”
Kuroko made a crucial mistake, then — she looked into those starry, honey-coloured eyes, and turned to stone.
It was like being put under a spell. Kuroko’s senses felt distant and cloudy as if she was submerged in water, and the only object of clarity was Misaki. Misaki’s gaze could only be described as uncomfortably alluring — it felt as if she was peering into your soul, unveiling your deepest secrets. And yet, despite the shiver of vulnerability, it was impossible to pull away. It was a web with no escape.
“I’ve seen the way Misaka-san treats you,” Misaki said. She spoke slowly, savouring every word, ensuring they hit their mark. “She takes you for granted, your loyalty and your capabilities. You’re always there to clean up her messes, yet you never receive any thanks. When she runs off late at night, do you know where she’s going? When she has nightmares, does she confide in you? Or does she keep it all a secret and pretend everything’s okay?”
Kuroko’s love for Mikoto was certain, like the rising of the sun every morning. She had never once doubted her feelings. So then, why was she silent? Why couldn’t she answer? There was never a greater shame, being unable to defend the love of her life.
“I, that is…” Kuroko babbled pathetically, searching for words. “I don’t need to know everything. Onee-sama has her reasons, I’m certain.”
“How long are you going to wait for her? She’s never going to change.” Misaki slid off the desk. Kuroko instinctively stepped back, bumping into the desk. Pens clattered to the floor.
“She’s not the saint you believe her to be, Shirai-san. Why do you have affections for someone so selfish, someone who could replace you in a heartbeat?"
A bead of sweat rolled down Kuroko’s forehead. “What do you want from me?”
Misaki laughed. “I want you,” she said. She put her hands on the desk, trapping Kuroko in between the desk and her body. “You deserve someone better than Misaka-san. You deserve someone who sees you, someone who appreciates you, someone who adores you.”
Kuroko’s silence was telling. A part of her, a stubborn part of her that she tried to ignore, had always felt this way. She was always a step behind Mikoto. Was she worth waiting for? Would she ever receive the affection she so craved? Kuroko was unravelling.
Misaki dared to lean in closer, their bodies rubbing together. “What do you say, you and I…” Misaki’s breath tickled against Kuroko’s lips. She jolted back, feeling a cold stab of panic.
“I’m not interested.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“I-I can’t.” Kuroko closed her eyes. She tried to picture Mikoto’s smile, her laugh, her glowing hair in the sunlight. She reached for all the things she loved like a lifeline. Without Mikoto, Kuroko feared she would lose her way.
“I’m loyal to Onee-sama,” she said. “I don’t care if you believe it to be foolish.”
“And if Misaka-san never comes around, what then?” Misaki let the words hang in the air for some time. “Give up on her, Shirai-san. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but it’s for your own good.”
“My own good?” Kuroko scoffed. “You don’t even know me.”
“Then let me get to know you.” Misaki lifted a hand, gliding it softly against Kuroko’s cheek. It gave her goosebumps. “Let me uncover all of you,” she said.
Mikoto’s image effortlessly crumbled. Kuroko couldn’t deny it any more — it felt good to be wanted. And when Misaki looked at her like that, with her perfectly flowing hair and curved lips, she was impossible to resist.
This time, when Misaki leaned in, Kuroko didn’t fight it.
Their lips touched. Misaki was surprisingly gentle. Kuroko hated the way her chest fluttered — though she refused to kiss back, she didn’t pull away, either. Her body was frozen still, and eventually, that soft pair of lips peeled away.
Kuroko’s face was warm. She must have been awfully red since Misaki immediately giggled at her. “I’ll let you finish up here, but afterwards, come visit me,” Misaki said. She began to walk away, waving over her shoulder. “Oh, and don’t keep me waiting.”
And she was gone, just like that.
Kuroko slumped into her chair. She took deep breaths, her head finally above water again. For a while she stayed like that, staring into space, wondering what she had gotten herself into. Was she really going to get involved with Shokuhou Misaki? Was she going to follow her?
Kuroko glanced at the last few folders on her desk. Luckily, she had one last distraction. She took her time.
Kuroko’s first mistake was showing up. Her next mistake was ignoring her gut feeling and knocking on the door anyway. She was rocking on her heels, scanning left and right. The girls at Tokiwadai liked to gossip, so she absolutely could not be caught lingering before Shokuhou Misaki’s room.
It was a relief, then, that the door opened quickly, and there she was. Shokuhou Misaki. She looked Kuroko up and down with a satisfied grin. “Shirai-san,” she said.
Kuroko put up a hand. “I’d rather you not say anything. Please.”
Misaki obliged, locking the door behind Kuroko as she walked in. She gestured to the single queen-sized bed in the middle of the room.
Kuroko sat on the edge of the bed, shifting uncomfortably as she took in her surroundings. Misaki’s bedroom was somehow grander than her own, despite sharing structural similarities. Perhaps it was the sweet, floral scent in the air, that seemed to follow her wherever she went. Or the spotless, white furniture that shined with elegance.
Nevertheless, Kuroko’s attention was quickly taken from her surroundings. Wasting no time, Misaki planted herself in Kuroko’s lap, straddling her legs between her thighs. Kuroko was taken aback as Misaki wrapped her arms around her neck, suddenly closer than ever before.
“Anything you need to get off your chest?” Misaki asked. When Kuroko only shook her head, she smiled. “Good.”
Their lips pressed together and that was it. There was no turning back.
Time passed in a blur. One kiss turned into many, hesitation melted into curiosity as Kuroko gradually let herself go. She sank into Misaki’s every affection, addicted to the feeling of reciprocation. When she kissed her, Misaki kissed back harder. When she tugged, Misaki got closer. When she let her hands roam Misaki’s body, she didn’t seem to mind.
Kuroko’s heart was racing. It was like nothing she had ever known.
Misaki pulled away to catch her breath but didn’t take her eyes off Kuroko for a second. She tugged at Kuroko’s collar, forcing it undone, and placed her lips on her neck. Kuroko shivered at the touch. Misaki was perfectly delicate and sensual, leaving a trail of soft kisses down to her collarbone. Kuroko was left squirming — it took all of her will to bite down a scream.
Then she felt teeth sink into her skin. Misaki was leaving a mark.
Initially, Kuroko didn’t think anything of it, but gradually, like a bruise slowly forming, the idea mortified her. The last thing she wanted was evidence of her betrayal — what if Mikoto saw? What would she say? Would she begin to doubt Kuroko’s feelings for her?
Kuroko shuddered at the thought. There was nothing to doubt, after all. She still loved Mikoto, she was just… she was…
What was she doing?
Kuroko couldn’t get Mikoto’s image out of her head. She had never felt more conflicted. The hands on her skin, the kisses on her neck suddenly went cold, and when Misaki looked her in the eyes, she seemed a little less dazzling. Despite the allure of her honey-sweet words and doll-like complexion, Kuroko’s attraction to the queen paled in comparison to her love for Misaka Mikoto.
Even if that love was never returned, even if it ruined her… Kuroko vowed she would wait. Curse the fickleness of her heart — this had gone on long enough.
“S-Shokuhou, wait,” Kuroko pushed her away. “I mustn’t go any further.”
Misaki’s face paled. With one glance, she noted Kuroko’s change in demeanour and sighed. “Why not?” she asked.
“I… truly love Onee-sama,” Kuroko said. “I cannot become your plaything.”
“Oh, Shirai-san,” Misaki rolled her eyes. “You’re more to me than that.”
Kuroko paused. She lowered her gaze. “I don’t understand.”
“If I wanted a ‘plaything,’ I promise you, anyone would do,” Misaki said, nudging Kuroko’s chin up. “I’m not the kind of person to throw away a diamond. I find you absolutely dazzling, Shirai-san. It might be love.”
“Then you must know how difficult it is to keep someone you love out of your thoughts.” Kuroko smiled apologetically. “I appreciate this Shokuhou, but I must go.”
Kuroko slipped out from under Misaki and rushed to the door. Misaki’s stare followed her across the room, and despite how much she wanted to chase after Kuroko, she didn’t. She merely muttered under her breath, “You truly are too good for her.”
Kuroko paused in the doorway. “Good night, Shokuhou,” she said and slipped back into the corridor.
The hallways of the Tokiwadai dormitories were eerily quiet this time of night. Every sound echoed in the emptiness; every footstep, every breath was a little too loud, putting Kuroko on edge. Even her power made too much sound, so she dismissed the idea of using it. She tip-toed towards Room 208 but it had never felt so far away.
She arrived at her room’s door, so far undetected. As Kuroko twisted the doorknob, it slipped in her sweaty grasp and made a loud click. She winced. It seemed loud enough for the entire dormitory and more to hear it, and soon, she would be interrogated for breaking curfew.
In a flash of panic, Kuroko slipped into the room and slammed the door. Before she could even release a breath, a voice called to her.
“Kuroko!” Bedsheets were hastily tossed aside as Mikoto stood up, approaching Kuroko. Her eyebrows were furrowed with worry. “Why didn’t you answer the phone? Where have you been?”
Perhaps on any other occasion, Kuroko would have been delighted to see Mikoto so concerned about her — however, all she felt were the ghostly hands of guilt squeezing around her neck. The onslaught of questions seemed like harsh accusations as if Mikoto knew she was hiding something.
There was a metallic taste in her mouth as Kuroko tried to swallow. “Working late, the usual,” she said. She flashed a smile before turning towards the bathroom. “I’m going to get ready for bed now, if you don’t mind—“
Kuroko only made it a few steps before a cold hand seized her arm. She jumped. “O-Onee-sama?”
The soft concern in Mikoto’s expression had completely vanished — now, there was an intensity in her stare that made Kuroko shiver. “Your neck,” she said.
Kuroko’s blood went cold. She had forgotten to cover up the hickey before she left — an amateur mistake. She would reprimand herself later for that. Instinctively, Kuroko covered it with her hand, though it only made her look more suspicious. “Just a bruise,” she laughed.
Mikoto narrowed her eyes. “You think I’m an idiot?”
“Truly, it’s nothing,” Kuroko tried to pry away from her grasp. “Please let me—“
“Who was it?”
“P-Pardon?”
“Who were you with?” Mikoto’s grip tightened as if squeezing the words out of her.
Kuroko’s defences were failing, unable to withstand Mikoto’s merciless glare. Her heart was pounding now, rocking her entire body — she couldn’t lie to her Onee-sama. She had already betrayed her once by falling for the charms of Shokuhou Misaki. Perhaps her sentence would be lessened if she came clean.
Kuroko couldn’t speak for a while. She let the guilt wash over her, darkening her expression and sagging her posture. She took a deep breath, and then…
“Shokuhou Misaki.”
There was a flash of confusion then hurt in Mikoto’s eyes before she stormed out of the room.
Misaki heard banging on her door. As reluctant as she was to answer (she considered pretending to be asleep), she knew the banging would persist until it got what it wanted. Regardless of the nuisance it caused, it would continue until satisfied.
That was just the kind of stubborn person Misaka Mikoto was.
The door opened for a second. Mikoto barged her way into the room and threw Misaki against the wall. The air was knocked from her lungs. There was a tight hand on her collar.
“I know what you did,” Mikoto spat.
“You’re going to have to be more specific—”
“I don’t care who you mess with, just leave my friends alone. Do it again, and I swear,” Mikoto’s grip tightened, “I will give you hell.”
Their faces were so close their noses brushed. Mikoto was staring her down with daggers in her eyes, but Misaki saw through her tough little act. Mikoto was all bark and no bite; she would intimidate, but never lift a finger to hurt Misaki, so she found herself relaxed in her deathly grip.
Misaki sighed. There was no danger in this situation, only inconvenience. “Shirai-san can’t keep anything from you, can she?” Misaki said. “She has a life of her own, you know, and what transpired between us was her own choice.”
“Cut the shit,” Mikoto said. “Kuroko knows better than to trust someone like you. You used her, didn’t you?”
There was a distant crackle of electricity. “Must you always assume the worst of me? No, and before you ask, I didn’t use my power either. She’s just a lonely girl, Misaka-san.” Misaki smirked. “It’s funny, when I told Shirai-san that she deserved someone better than you, she couldn’t seem to defend you… I wonder why.”
“You little—!”
And there it was, a blueish white spark of electricity struck the wall beside Misaki’s head. She could feel the immense heat as it shot past. Her heartbeat kicked up, but Misaki made no show of discomfort on her face. Instead, her smirk widened — of course, Mikoto would never dare to strike her with a bolt directly.
“So that’s it, you’re doing this to spite me? To replace me?” Mikoto said.
“My world doesn’t revolve around you, Misaka-san. Amusing as it is, I’m genuinely surprised you’re this upset. Can’t stand your best friend fraternising with the enemy? Or, perhaps, are you jealous?” Misaki laughed, putting a hand over her mouth. “I wonder which of us you’re jealous of~”
“Shut your mouth, Shokuhou.” Mikoto narrowed her eyes. “I won’t warn you again.”
“Then consider this a warning, too. You may have Shirai-san wrapped around your pretty little finger…” Misaki leaned in and whispered against Mikoto’s ear. “But it won’t last forever.”
Goosebumps from head to toe. A flush of cold and hot at the same time. An indescribable feeling came and went in the blink of an eye, leaving Mikoto hollow and shaken. What was that? Her heart slammed against her ribcage, demanding answers. But Mikoto had none. She was left blank and staring like a deer in headlights.
Misaki had her trapped in a vice. She was staring Mikoto down like predator to prey, her cunning smirk pulling her lips taut. The look was equally repulsive as it was alluring. The appeal of those honey-coloured eyes had never been so clear before — suddenly, Mikoto understood. It was like a devil whispering in her ear, inviting her to toe the paper-thin line between love and hate. Those eyes… if she lost herself in them, there would be no return.
But unlike Kuroko, Mikoto would not yield. She would not hold affections for Shokuhou Misaki of all people.
“We’re done here,” Mikoto said, and shoved Misaki aside.
When Mikoto came back to her room, Kuroko was immediately on her feet. She had given up trying to chase after Mikoto, knowing full well where she was going and that she couldn’t be stopped. She waited in agony for her return, every minute her mind spinning with thoughts — and now, here she was. Everything came to a standstill.
“Onee-sama…” Kuroko’s nerves got the best of her. She couldn’t say anything else. She was trying to read the emotions on Mikoto’s face, but she couldn’t quite work it out. Her stomach swirled with unease.
And then, suddenly, a pair of arms embraced Kuroko. Mikoto brought her against her chest and squeezed her eyes shut. When the confusion wore off, Kuroko returned the hug, feeling comfort in the close proximity of her beloved. She let out a long, shaky breath.
They stood like that for some time, silently savouring each other’s warmth.
“You don’t need Shokuhou Misaki,” Mikoto said. “I’m right here.”
Kuroko hesitated, biting down on her lip. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
“I care about you, Kuroko. I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel lonely or left out, but I really do.”
“Do you love me?” Kuroko asked.
“You know that’s not what I…”
“Do you?”
Her pleading expression was too much to bear. Mikoto glanced away, gritting her teeth. Though they both knew the answer, that didn’t make it any easier to say. She could tell Kuroko was hanging onto her every word, searching her face for some kind of sign.
Mikoto swallowed. “I don’t know,” she said.
“Will you ever?”
“I don’t know, Kuroko.”
Kuroko stepped back, smiling despite the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She ignored the waver in her voice and the shaking of her knees. “That’s alright,” she said. “No matter what we are… I appreciate having you in my life.”
She smiled, but who was she fooling?
Neither could find the words after that. They both went to bed carrying a guilty weight in their chest. For once, their shared room felt like a curse — Kuroko had to maintain that thin, peaceful silence. She had to hold back tears until her throat stung, mask every sniffle, and control every breath, for the slightest abnormality would alert Mikoto.
Kuroko closed her eyes and saw something glittering in the darkness. A pair of eyes gazing back at her, filled with adoration and longing. She felt once more the embrace of Shokuhou Misaki and the ghostly tingle of her lips. She felt the warmth of reciprocation and desired once more to be by her side.
Mikoto did not love Kuroko — she vowed to always wait for her, but now, the temptation would always be there.
If she ever dared to give her heart to someone else… she would be there.