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“You wanted to see me?” Kirigiri was dressed more casually than she’d normally allow herself to be seen, in soft lilac sweatpants the same shade as her hair and a black long-sleeved tee, accompanied of course by the ever-present gloves. It would be easy for Mukuro to allow herself to slip into distraction, to follow the way that shirt clung to her form and remember the way, not so long ago, her hands had been just as close, running over Kirigiri’s skin. When she’d been that close, bathed in darkness without even a hint of starlight coming through the bolted windows, she’d allowed herself to imagine calling her Kyoko.
“That’s right,” she replied, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she ventured deeper into her room. Scanning and taking inventory of everything that would need to be packed away. She would be in charge of that, at Junko’s command. The thought sent a throb of despair through her, which was exactly the point.
“Well then, what is it? It sounded urgent.” Kirigiri motioned widely, gesturing for her to take a seat. It felt, somehow, too intimate to sit on the bed, despite all the other things she’d done there, but she sat down anyway, feeling the mattress dip. Kirigiri took a step closer, like she was going to join her, then hesitated.
Mukuro, seizing on the opportunity to stall for even a few seconds longer, patted the bed next to her and tried to paste on an encouraging face. Her smile felt wrong and too wide. In her head, Junko mocked her for being so incompetent, for thinking she could ever do anything right at all. It was a relief when Kirigiri obliged, sitting just a few inches away from her, until she realized she had to speak.
“It’s not. That is, it’s not an emergency. I wanted to talk to you though. Before I lost my nerve, maybe,” she mumbled, carding a hand through her hair, freshly trimmed just that morning. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us, Kirigiri. About... what this is.”
Kirigiri raised an eyebrow, mouth curling into a perplexed little twist. Amused, maybe, or maybe just trying to figure her out. People were so much more difficult to figure out off the battlefield.
“Enlighten me then, Ikusaba-san. What is this to you?”
“I’d like it to be more than it’s been so far. More than just fooling around and not talking about it later. I care about you, and with the state of the world out there...” She paused for a moment, swallowing roughly, and hoped Kirigiri would brush off the momentary loss of composure as distress rather than worry about being caught. “Who knows what’s going to happen or how long the sixteen of us will be trapped here. It hardly seems like the time to be shy about what we want.”
Silence stretched out between them for a second, then another. Mukuro could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. The only thing allowing her to do this was the knowledge that Junko hadn’t yet gotten the security cameras set up. They were, for now, still in private. It took another moment or two, but then she could see a faint pink flush spreading across Kirigiri’s face, like the detective had only just realized what she was alluding to.
“Are you suggesting that you’d like to be my girlfriend?”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I’m suggesting. If you’re interested.”
Kirigiri nodded, a small smile playing over her lips, replacing that moue of confusion.
“I’d be amenable to it. I hate to think of what our classmates will have to say when they hear the news, given the lack of other gossip to keep them occupied, but yes, I’d like to give it a try. Dating you, to whatever extent is possible here.”
“Good.” Some of the tension bled out of her. Slow and steady, like approaching a wild animal—almost like approaching Junko—Mukuro reached over to take Kirigiri’s hand. She laced their fingers together, skin against leather, and tried to memorize the sensation. She closed her eyes, to focus better. She’d still get to see Kirigiri all the time for a while longer, but touching was another matter. Evidently, Kirigiri didn’t think her closed eyes were anything strange. She took them as an invitation. Before Mukuro could open them again, she felt the soft press of lips against her own.
Kirigiri’s lips were slightly chapped, slicked with a faintly floral balm. Lavender, Mukuro thought. She kissed her softly, so much more gently than Mukuro deserved, and she reciprocated it with her whole heart, keeping her control tightly reined in. Soft, slow, earnest. The furthest thing away from a last kiss.
When she pulled back just a little, blinking at her to refocus her vision from so close up, she tangled her free hand in Kirigiri’s hair, letting soft purple strands weave between her fingers.
“You’ll remember me, right? If anything ever happens, you’ll remember this?” It was an awful question, the sort Junko had all but succeeded in bullying out of her entirely years ago. Kirigiri, however, didn’t mock her. She just considered it, looking at Mukuro ponderously until Mukuro was forced to look away first, afraid of what she might find behind her eyes.
“Yes. I’d always remember you. I can’t imagine forgetting. Honestly, you shouldn’t worry about things like that. The situation is stable for now.” Soft, almost playful, Kirigiri added, “I thought you were supposed to be the rational type.”