Work Text:
It was a quiet afternoon at the library, just the way Korekiyo liked it. The hustle and bustle of the city provided more than enough people to observe, but in the wake of their newfound celebrity status, they’d been discovering that they preferred to live life at a slower speed. The sleepy suburb they settled in was perfect for that, as was their part time job at the library. Most of the other employees were elderly women—a gaggle of friends all too eager to take Korekiyo under their collective wing. They all either didn’t know about Danganronpa or pretended not to. Either way, they appreciated it.
There was an occasional question to answer or book to check out, but on slow days like that one, they were largely free to do some reading of their own or chat with Matsuura-san, who was working with them that day. She was quite eager to tell them all about the chocolate cake she baked for her grandchildren, which inevitably led to chiding them about their weight.
“I eat plenty, I can assure you,” they said, pulling their sweater a little tighter around them. “There’s no need for you to worry about me.”
Whatever the old woman’s response was, Korekiyo didn’t hear it. They were frozen, hands clenched around a stack of books and eyes locked on the latest person to wander inside. She didn’t appear to have seen them yet, typing away on her phone, but given her proximity to the front desk, there was no way she’d miss them when she looked up.
“What’s wrong, dear?” Matsuura-san’s voice broke through their daze, making them flinch. “Do you know that young lady? She does seem familiar, doesn’t she? Where was it that I saw a little redhead like that? I think it was on a magazine cover at the grocery store, some celebrity or another.” She chuckled, shaking her head ruefully. “An old woman like me can’t keep up with the trends anymore.”
Throat dry as a desert and mask suddenly feeling stifling instead of safe, they managed to choke out a response. “Regrettably, that’s the love of my life.”
It was perhaps the first time they’d ever seen Matsuura speechless. Mumbling under her breath, she gave their shoulder a reassuring pat and, having come to the conclusion that they were serious, murmured a promise to give them a few moments to talk. Grabbing her cane, she tottered away into the stacks. All Korekiyo could do was stand there and await their doom.
Himiko looked up from her phone. They could track the exact moment her eyes met theirs, the way horror washed over her face. They wouldn’t have blamed her for turning around and leaving, but she didn’t. Instead, she took a deep breath, seeming to steel herself before continuing to approach.
“Welcome,” they said, putting on their best customer service voice. “Please let me know if you need help finding anything.” They stared down at the familiar wooden surface of the desk and their bandaged hands, but Himiko’s tired eyes were still all they could see.
They thought that might have been the end of it, that this awful reminder of their past might never be brought up again, but after a few minutes of aimless wandering, Himiko returned to the desk.
“Why are you here?” she asked, not quite meeting their eyes. She tugged at the sleeves of her sweatshirt, pulling them over her hands, and Korekiyo wondered if she was remembering that day in their lab, the honeyed words and earnest affection they used to lure her in as their assistant.
“I work here.”
“Well, yeah, that much is obvious. But why?” She leaned against the desk, alarmingly close to them. They felt their throat tighten. Perhaps she felt it too. They watched her eyes dart around, as if she was trying to decide how embarrassing it would be to pull back immediately.
They considered their answer, taking a small, merciful step back. “I wanted something peaceful. A distraction, maybe. I was lucky enough to find it here.”
Himiko let out a noise, something halfway between a laugh and a scoff, and said, “Must be nice. Glad to see you’ve carved out a happy little life for yourself when so many of us are still suffering.”
Korekiyo tried to remain impassive, unaffected, but they felt their body flinch nonetheless. There was a flash of something like regret in her eyes, but they couldn’t be sure.
“I wouldn’t describe it as happy, at least not all the time,” they said softly. “But I’m trying. I’m sure you don’t have any interest in seeing me again, but if there’s anything I can do to be of help...”
“I’m not sure. Not right now. I wasn’t expecting to see you here, and it’s a lot to take in. But I think I might come back, if that’s alright with you.”
“I’ll write down my hours.” They grabbed a nearby piece of paper and pen, jotting down their usual work schedule. After a moment of consideration, they added their phone number as well. Just in case she might want it.