Work Text:
Makoto stepped in front of the door of his room for what he imagined would be the final time in his life. After all I’ve been through, I’d be happy to never see this place ever again.
Before walking in, he took a final look at his e-handbook, now deactivated along with all the technology of the building, and threw it to the ground. In another example to his scattershot luck, Makoto’s botched execution meant Monokuma had been unable to take his key off his body, which meant he had one chance to see if there was anything he wanted to physically take from this experience.
I don’t think there’s anything I really want, but it can’t hurt to be sure, right? Besides I really need closure on this whole thing and don’t want to come back for it…
Makoto shook his head as he walked through the threshold into his room for the final time, regaining his focus. With all the power cut off except for lights connected to the emergency generator, it was easily the darkest this room had ever been. He walked through his room, unsurprisingly not finding much of note. He wrote a few memos for himself that were now meaningless and sitting in the trash; beyond that, Makoto had been good at living lean. A couple of used plates and utensils were there, as it seemed his room didn’t have time to get scrubbed clean.
That is odd. Every other murder scene and living space got scrubbed immediately, so why did Monok – no, Junko — why didn’t Junko clean mine?
His thoughts suddenly came to a stop, though, as his eyes were drawn to the emergency light. As he followed the light to the nearest corner, Makoto’s eyes caught a gleam that shouldn’t be there. The floor shouldn’t have a shine to it. So what is…
Oh.
Makoto dropped to his knees as he came close to the corner and saw a hint of gold. He thought that the entire room had been scrubbed clean, and admittedly it was barely enough to be considered a droplet.
It must have been missed when the cleanup job was done. Or maybe Junko wanted me to see it at a random time to throw me off.
“Makoto.”
His musings were interrupted by the calm, almost taciturn tone of Kyoko Kirigiri’s voice. He turned quickly, the light purple of her hair and eyes standing out even more than usual because he had been so transfixed on the gold paint stain.
“Why are you kneeling in the corner?”
Makoto rose to his feet. “Sorry, I figured we’d all be busy checking our rooms one more time.”
“Most of us didn’t even bother to go back. There aren’t exactly memories here that we want to revisit. I can tell you I didn’t reopen my door.”
“Really? You don't want to check?"
Kyoko shrugged. "The only things of value I want to take with me are already on my person. But I do believe you avoided my question."
"Huh?"
"I asked you why you were kneeling in a seemingly random corner of your room."
"Oh! Right, sorry," Makoto looked away as he started speaking. "It's just that while I was looking around I found some gold paint on the floor."
"Gold paint? You mean like from the sword Leon used?" Kyoko said, eyes widening an almost imperceptible amount. "I thought all traces of that case we're cleaned away."
"That's what I thought too. But I guess it got missed. Or Junko wanted me to find it for another gut punch."
Kyoko seemed to ignore his comments for a moment while she walked past him and looked at the paint.
She stood silent for some time before finally sighing and saying, "that's a certain possibility, but considering the paint flakes' location and the fact that barely any of it is there at all, I'd attribute this paint to being residue from when you brought it in."
Makoto nodded in understanding. Makes sense. It's on the side of the barrier where there was no struggle, and that paint flaked worse than dandruff. It's not like I made much of an effort to keep this place spotless.
“I honestly can’t tell what was intentional here and what wasn’t,” Makoto replied. “I don’t understand how someone could look to classmates she knew for years, could look to her sister, and just so casually use and dispose of them.”
Kyoko nodded and turned to him. “I’ve been thinking on that for the last hour or so - of what could have made her do what she did.”
“Anything come to you?”
She pointed her head down slightly. “I believe Junko was doing what she felt she had to do .”
“Had to do? Why?”
“Thinking about how elaborate the plans for this were, there’s no way Junko did this on a whim. There were likely multiple victims, experiments and suffering before we even entered this building. Tens, dozens, hundreds… who can say, really? Definitely no one on this side of the door.”
Makoto nodded along, trying to follow Kyoko’s logic. She looked him in the eye. “Do you remember when Monokuma tried to break Aoi using a fake suicide note for Sakura? And you rallied everyone back together so that her sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain?”
“O-of course I remember! It was only a few days ago.”
“It’s the same situation, but in the opposite direction. Junko seemed to live in despair for most of her life, and all that suffering, all the death she caused, all the people she broke… it had to be for something, at least in her mind. She wanted to use the journalist’s defense - ‘You can’t prosecute for the truth.’
“If despair was truly the right way to live, then all she had done could be accepted by her broken mind. That’s why in the last trial, she gave us access to everything. It’s why she hated you most of all in that final exchange. She had to prove - not to us, or the world, but herself - that her way was right. That when presented with the full trauma of the world, choosing despair over hope was a sane choice.”
Makoto thought about this for a moment. Could this really have been a desperate plea for vindication. “So when everyone in the room rejected her outright, do you believe her smiling act in death was for show?”
Kyoko shook her head. “Without question, she was out of her mind at that moment, and I do believe she welcomed death. I mean, if you’d done a fraction of what she did, all for nothing, could you live with yourself?”
Makoto considered all he’d heard. If all that is true, could this have been stopped? Then again, does that really matter? Junko aside, there were nine people here whose lives she ended in service of a bogus ideology. No matter what pain a person goes through, finding joy in the suffering of innocent people is wrong.
As he said this in his mind, thoughts of the nine people who died flashed through his head. Positive memories of all of them, however brief, will remain forever. This says nothing of whatever memories he might regain or be told of in the future. He could only imagine what he’d learn about his friendships with Taka, Mukuro, Leon, Sayaka…
His thoughts seemed to drift aimlessly for a minute before Kyoko interjected, with a hint of concern in her voice. "Are you okay, Makoto?"
Makoto forced a chuckle out, if only to settle his voice. In spite of his emotions at the moment, the fact that whatever little of Kyoko's outward emotion was directed at him felt like an honor. “I guess it’s just everything we know now. Sayaka… Leon… both of them seemed so grounded and genuine at the start of this. And now we find out we were all together for one year? Maybe two?”
“Sayaka meant a lot to you, didn’t she? Even though you only knew each other for a short time?” Kyoko paused before quickly adding, “And Leon too, it sounds like.” I got weirdly hung up on his emotions toward Sayaka for a second… Maybe I’m getting tired…”
“I get the sense that they probably were genuine. We may have even been close friends. The idea of finding out is making me… obsessed… but also terrified… Should I be afraid of what I’ve lost?
“You once told me that you were scared of what you’ve already lost. Do you have any advice?”
Kyoko considered his words as she looked at him. She hadn’t seen Makoto so shaken since the first class trial had concluded. He just saved everyone with his hope and optimism. His support saved me twice in the last two days. Makoto, I don’t know what this will mean, but the least I can do is support you right here, right now.
She breathed in deeply before she spoke. “To be honest, I don’t think my advice would be helpful to you right now.”
“W-why not? You said -”
“I said I keep my emotions hidden from the outside world. In full truth, I probably bottle up my feelings more than I should. You saw how I behaved when I saw the picture of me with my dad, right?”
Makoto nodded slowly.
“It shook me. Deeply. To my core. And it probably wouldn’t have been as bad had I been honest with my emotions from the outset. I was so in denial about what might have been happening with my dad that I couldn’t even imagine putting my name in as a password, even though it’s one of the most obvious passwords to use.”
“Kyoko, you can’t blame yourself for–”
“Please, let me finish. I… I need to say this.”
Makoto raised his hands slightly, letting her know she had the floor.
“The fear of the memories I’ve lost isn’t there. Because I know if they’re too at odds with my self-image, I’ll probably reject them. My fear isn’t the actual memories, but the emotions connected to them. When I’ve sat with them long enough, and I actually process them, how will I deal with thoughts so different from my own that they feel alien?
“You, Makoto, are open and emotional to a fault. I’m not saying that as an insult - in this case, I think it may be your greatest strength and the reason you’re better equipped than any of us to deal with reality.”
Makoto’s eyes opened in confusion, as he tried to reach the conclusion Kyoko was drawing. “I don’t follow.”
“You have been able to endure the same trauma we all have, but where all of us were either unsure of ourselves or ready to give up, you were willing to keep fighting - for both yourself and for us. I felt completely lost, not sure of what to do, and you helped me regain my composure. In the last two days, my life has been in your hands a lot, and the way you stepped up… I’ll never forget it.”
Makoto got an actual belly laugh out of this, in spite of the situation. “Don’t make what I did out to be more than what it was! I didn’t do all that much.”
Kyoko was smiling a rare smile. “If you were in my head at that moment, you wouldn’t feel that way. My point is, I know you’ll probably feel pain greater than any of us when we start hearing about our pasts, and I hope you’ll take care not to run headlong into it, but you can get through anything with support,” Kyoko placed a hand on Makoto’s shoulder, “and you can be sure you’ll have mine when the time comes.”
Makoto felt like he was about to weep. Come on, hold it together! I didn’t cry when I fell down the garbage chute; I can’t do it here, not in front of Kirigiri. He reached out and matched her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Thank you. But I don’t agree with how you see yourself. You may hide from your emotions, but you’ve held me up from falling into despair more than once. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, and I’ll always be there when you don’t feel strong enough.”
For a moment, the two smiled at each other, eyes locked. Makoto’s bare hand and Kyoko’s gloved one felt the warmth of each other’s shoulders. If you asked them how much time had passed, even right after, neither one could likely tell you.
And as suddenly as it came, the moment passed. Both put their hands back and they turned away, unaware that the other had started to blush. As Makoto pretended to look in the bathroom for one final pass, and as Kyoko turned back to the gold flakes, similar thoughts flowed through their heads.
That was SO corny. I didn’t like being called openly naive, but I can’t make arguments if I act like that. Why did I even freeze up like that? It felt like my brain stopped working.
What was all that emotion welling up? Am I more shaken up than I thought? But those words Makoto said… it’s like they were so natural to hear. I know we’ve been through a lot, but it’s only been a month. How are his speeches so instinctive?
“We should head up now while the air in here is still clear. Is there anything you need to take?”
Makoto gave one last glance to the whole room. “No, I think I’m okay. Honestly, the five of you are what I’m happiest to be taking with me. And you’re right: As long as we have each other, we’ll be able to support ourselves through anything.”
Kyoko cleared the walkway so that Makoto could leave first. As the boy reached the doorway, he looked back at her. “You know, I bet when we do get our memories back, I bet we had a lot of trust in each other then, too.”
“Really? What makes you say that?”
“I’m psychic.”
Kyoko face-palmed.
“Well, my intuition is pretty good.” And with that, he turned and went through his doorway for the final time.
Kyoko hesitated a moment before starting to walk herself. For reasons she didn’t understand at that moment, she felt a tear welling up behind her eye. Instinctively, she reached her hand into her pocket and touched the only two things she took from her room following the sham class trial: a pair of self-destructing cassette tapes - both given to her by Makoto.
For some reason, contact with those gifts calmed her, and with one final deep breath, she followed the newly named Ultimate Hope toward the main exit.