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Makoto leaned over the counter as the coffee pot bubbled.
Every day was hell.
Ever since he stepped into that stupid school, woke up on that stupid desk, and let that stupid bear kill all of his friends. He was lucky to live, they said. Lucky. As if that wasn't what got him there in the first place. The six of them all lived in a house that was as undamaged as it could be amidst all of the chaos outside. The world having shut down, being subjected to all of this despair. The surviving six, and any refugees they found in the streets all became a part of their new hope. The Future Foundation.
But Makoto was trying not to think about that right now. Instead, he thought about how tired he was. How thirsty he was. How he should just drink some coffee and get on with his job like any normal adult. Like all of his remaining friends had grown to do. The coffee pot bubbled for the sixth time this morning. The first for Byakuya, the second for Kyoko, the third for Toko, the fourth for Aoi, the fifth for Hiro, and the sixth for Makoto. The steam was hitting him in the eyes, but he didn't do much to change that. It was almost done anyways.
He rubbed his eyes lazily before he grabbed a mug from the cabinet. Pure white porcelain, clean and fragile on the outside. But on the inside, it was stained brown with coffee residue. Even after all the coffee had been washed out, the discoloration of the glass never fixed itself. It was ruined one could say.
Makoto found himself always choosing this mug.
So once he saw fit, he turned off the coffee machine, and the bubbling stopped. He stared into the glass coffee container, the deep brown pool staring back at him. It was bitter on the inside, but it looked like sweet chocolate. Just the smell of it could make Makoto gag though, and it did. So, so bitter. He doesn't understand how anyone could like it. How this could have been integrated into typical grown-up culture. Makoto was a grown up now.
Though, his best years —the years he was supposed to become a grown-up— had been removed from his memories. So, despite having lived all 20 years of his life... he's still just little Makoto. Little 16 year old Makoto who had just finished his freshman year, and had won a lottery of luck to go to one of the best schools in the world for his last three years. He was that Makoto. But the Makoto he had to live as wasn't him. The Makoto he lived as had a job, responsibilities, things to do, an entire society to save almost all by himself. He'd saved five people already, and saved more before they'd ended up getting killed by their own.
Makoto didn't know what he was doing.
Maybe some coffee will clear his head... wake him up.
He grabs the handle from the pot, and pulls it out of the machine before slowly pouring the coffee into the mug. Once it was empty, he set the pot back onto the counter, and stared into the coffee. He could just barely make out his reflection. He'd aged so much. His hair was shorter. His eyes were duller. He didn't smile. This didn't look like the Makoto he remembered himself to be. It was as if he put a physical aging filter on his face for laughs. But it wasn't funny. It was all real. He was an adult now. The smell of the coffee makes him gag once again as he stares at the reflection.
He doesn't wanna drink it.
He can't drink it.
His eyes became watery looking at himself through the caffeine lens. His frown contorted more aggressively as he choked back something he didn't expect. What was he doing? Crying over a drink wasn't responsible. It was childish. How was he gonna save the world if he can't just drink a drink? What was wrong with him? A tear slowly dripped to the bottom of his face, and fell into the mug, splashing lightly before disappearing into the abyss.
Makoto was never a crier, growing up he wasn't that kid. Other kids would cry over not getting their way, Makoto simply sighed and mourned it silently. Yet now that he's grown, he sobs into a cup like he's not supposed to be drinking out of it. What a strange thing, huh? Makoto put the mug back down onto the counter, in fear that his bursting might cause him to drop the glass and spill the liquids. Makoto slid down the front of the counter on his back, leaning against the cabinet underneath. He sobbed into his arms for who knows how long. If he really was the adult his body was, he would've bought a watch to tell the time by now. That's what his mind told him.
He was nothing but a child now.
He'd grown taller, grown wiser, and even grown to no longer be "perfectly average", having started the foundation that's saving the human race. But the one thing he couldn't leave behind was how small he felt on the inside. Despite being the ultimate hope, he felt like the most tragic and hopeless little boy imaginable. A little baby boy kicked to the streets in the rain with nothing. That's how he felt. All over a cup of coffee. He thinks he might hate himself. Maybe for not being able to grow up, or maybe for letting himself become so old. It's something that rots his heart deep down inside. It's what's causing him to act like this right now.
"Naegi?"
He jumps. He automatically recognized the voice calling his name. He just wished it would've been anyone but him to see him like this. Makoto immediately found himself shutting down. Any and all sound, movement, or anything he could possibly be doing ceased. He no longer sobbed. He sat there sill. When he spoke he sounded fine.
"Ah! Byakuya! What are you doing here? I thought you already got your coffee..."
What an unbelievable lie. He sounded terrible. He sounded like he had the flu. Byakuya was not impressed.
"I was looking for you."
Makoto felt a little surprised at that.
"Really? You were? Why is that?"
Makoto tried to discreetly wipe his eyes before looking up at Byakuya, but it was painfully obvious what he was doing.
"I wonder why I would need the leader of the Future Foundation in the middle of the morning."
He said sarcastically. The mornings were usually when Makoto performed most of his on-base duties, afternoons and nights were most of his outdoor work. But Makoto hadn't gotten any work done yet. He'd been crying over his coffee. Makoto looked away with embarrassment, feeling ashamed for even being in the room. Byakuya agitatedly sighed before sitting down on commoners floor in his nice clean suit, right next to Makoto.
"What are you doing crying on the kitchen floor?"
Makoto couldn't help sobbing louder. He was so ashamed yet he just couldn't stop himself. There was something wrong with him.
"I-I'm sorry! I'm s-sorry, i-i just... don't know! I'm s-sorry!"
He repeated the same words over and over as he buried his face in his knees. Byakuya was slightly taken aback, but it was nothing he didn't plan on fixing. After all, he truly did like Makoto. He was admirable, whether Byakuya showed it or not. Byakuya looked up to him in some aspects. After all, he's the main reason that the six of them had survived. He saved all of them. Even with all of the obstacles Byakuya placed, Makoto still reigned victorious in the end. That was something no amount of crying on the kitchen floor could change about him.
Byakuya stood back up, grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. He sat back in his position and opened the bottle. Then, he slid his boney fingers through Makoto's hair before gripping onto it and pulling his head back up. Makoto was shocked.
"Look at me, Makoto."
Byakuya never called him 'Makoto'. He was a last-names type of person, yet never corrected him when he said 'Byakuya'. To everyone else, he was 'Togami'. Not Makoto. There was something that Makoto felt was special about that. Naegi looked into his eyes, still not able to hold back his tears. Byakuya passes him the open water bottle with his other hand, still holding Makoto's head.
"Drink some. You can barely breathe with all of your sobbing."
Makoto took a few sips, and it made him feel alot better. His tears slowed down by much. Though, he still cried. Byakuya let go of his head. Makoto sort of missed the touch. Byakuya watched him drink almost half of the bottle before speaking.
"What occurred here to make you such a mess?"
Makoto stared at the water. This was way better than coffee. He sighed.
"It sounds stupid out loud."
"Well, I can't read your mind, imbecile. Answer my question."
Byakuya was right, reading minds is Hiro's job, but he's on duty right now. Makoto swallowed anxiously, trying to find the words that would describe his feelings. Whatever made him feel so small.
"I just..."
He was so small.
"Don't you feel... like a kid at all? Like, I know we're adults, but... we lost all of our memories of being teenagers... on the inside, it all just feels like... maybe I still am one. I'm not actually grown up yet..."
Togami stared at the distressed brunet intently. Truth be told, Byakuya has always felt like nothing more than a tall child. Having grown up so fast for his father and his corporation, when was the last time he reflected on these feelings? Despite acting so large and in charge, when was the last time he didn't feel so... small? He was no better than Makoto. He didn't have the right whether to tell him to grow up or not. He only sighed.
"I think that despite the fronts we all put up for eachother and the foundation... all of us feel like children on the inside..."
Byakuya admitted. It was something he never wanted to say, but... Makoto said it first. Byakuya removed his glasses before shutting his eyes and placing his head in the hand that wasn't holding his glasses. He suddenly had a slight headache. Makoto stared into the water in his own hands. Crystal clear, unlike coffee.
"We lost all of the years that we were supposed to grow up and become adults. I don't know how I'm supposed to behave, what do I even do? I mean, I know it's different for us because all of society collapsed and we're the saviors... but still... isn't there anything I can do...?"
Byakuya pitied him. He knew that was dumb, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help anything. All of these feelings he was having right now— he's not supposed to have these. When did he become such a soft sap? And why is it showing only now? In front of Makoto?
"I lost those years long before you did. I'm sure there was a time in my life that I felt just as lost as you. But it's long forgotten. All I can say right now is... that..."
Makoto tilted his head back up to Byakuya. He placed the water bottle on the floor next to him. Togami opened his eyes and watched with his naked face, it all being mostly blurry anyways.
"I don't believe it matters how old you are on the inside, or outside. Whether or not you have... the innocence you once did... because even so... you still saved the entire world, Makoto... nobody who wasn't able to could do that. It takes effort, effort that you put in."
Byakuya put his glasses back on with care. Makoto doesn't think he's ever seen them dirty before. They always looked brand new. Like they'd never seen any of the horrific and disgusting things Togami had layed his eyes on in his lifetime.
"You've done more than any of us ever planned on doing with our lives, all on the drop of a hat."
The words just fell out of the blond's mouth like he wasn't Byakuya Togami, cold as ice and hard as rock.
"You've saved billions of lives, and you're restoring society with all of your own ideas!"
Like something was overtaking him as he looked at Makoto. Something tugging down on the strings of his heart, sinking it deeper and deeper into his chest until it completely disappeared and imploded inside of him.
"Even though I never say it, you're not stupid, Makoto. You're a genius just like me, even if you're a bit slower to reach these conclusions. Even after all of the tribulations I put you through during the killing game, you forgave me without question! Which should've been stupid! It should've felt stupid for me to trust you...!"
Byakuya was just rambling, and rambling, and rambling, and he didn't even hear or understand half of the words he was saying anymore. Just saying whatever he thought without thinking about why he thought that way. His words had progressively gotten louder and louder, Makoto didn't even have the heart to put him to a stop. He just watched in awe at Byakuya's breaking walls until finally...
"You are my hope, Makoto!"
He stopped, finally finding some restraint, and a filter. Byakuya's eyes widened at what he'd just said. His face flushed red with shame as the meaning of his words truly sunk in to the both of them. Makoto only stared with a shocked expression. He looked like a deer in headlights, just as flushed as Byakuya was. The two just found themselves staring at eachother. Byakuya felt the regret slowly creeping into his throat. He was about to reject everything he'd just said before he'd noticed that Makoto had stopped crying.
"Your... hope...? I'm your... hope?"
Makoto questioned, still beet red in the face. Byakuya looked at the floor. Makoto found himself scooting closer on the kitchen floor.
"Y'know... I think that's the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me..."
Makoto smiled warmly at him. Byakuya couldn't help looking back. He wasn't quite sure how to react without making himself into more of a fool.
"I didn't know you felt that way..."
Makoto said.
"I don't..."
Byakuya started.
"I don't... that was just... it just slipped out..."
Makoto giggled at the flustered Togami. He felt so embarrassed for stuttering like Toko.
"You don't have to hide it anymore. Really, it's ok... thinking about it, I look up to you too, in a way..."
Makoto hesitated before grabbing Byakuya's face. The blond gasped under his breath, wanting to pull away but being frozen with confusion.
"You're alot more... organized... collected... I'm all over the place."
He chuckled as he grabbed Byakuya's glasses and let go of his face. He slipped them onto his own face.
"What on earth are you doing?"
Byakuya asked with failing vision. Makoto turned his head, and stared deep into his eyes before responding. Byakuya actually felt his heartbeat quicken with what the boy said next.
"Looking at you the way you look at me. Maybe then I'll understand what you're seeing. Whatever makes me your hope."
Byakuya wanted to tell him to stop, that it was all too much. But all he managed was an uncontrollable smirk. He feels like maybe he'll regret this conversation, regret ever meeting Makoto someday. Because he regrets everyone he meets, they're all so annoying and idiotic. But... Makoto isn't like them.
Maybe Makoto was a good choice.
And maybe Makoto trusting Byakuya once more wasn't a bad idea either.
Makoto took off the glasses while reminiscent, as he stared at his own reflection through the lenses. Everyone said 'don't do it. don't trust him. don't you dare put your trust in him. he's psychotic, illogical, narcissistic, even crazy.'. And Makoto knew they were right, because who else would mangle a corpse to copy the style of a serial killer. But even so, he knew deep down in his heart that there was a side to Byakuya that not everyone was getting a good look at.
A side that only came out when they were alone.
Maybe Makoto was his hope all along, but who knows. Children are naturally hopeful. They believe in things, and they believe hard. They believe with all their might, with everything they can, and they don't give up until that hope dies. And a hope like that can only be killed with something wild and violent. But even then, it's not guaranteed that the hope will lose against such despair. The two knew that better than anybody. Makoto gave Byakuya back his glasses.
"I think you're my hope too, Byakuya."
They didn't need to say anymore, because they both knew what that meant. Byakuya stared into Makoto's eyes, finally regaining his sight. Makoto passed him the bottle of water. Somehow, he could tell Byakuya had a headache. Usually, Byakuya would absolutely refuse to drink after someone. Disgusting, germy, where else has their mouth been? But... it's just Makoto. He takes the bottle, and swigs it, before placing it back on the floor. Makoto's tears had dried, and there was nothing more for either of them to do.
So, what? Maybe they were children on the inside after all.
A hope that would never die slept inside of both of them. They didn't need anything more than that.
They didn't need fancy suits, or responsibilities, or anything.
They most certainly didn't need coffee.