Work Text:
“So that’s it then? You’re just going to do it, fuck asking for my opinion?” Kaede’s voice was cold as ice, eyes flat and dead. Maki saw how she got when she was in a particularly low mood, or when something incited her to talk about her thoughts on humanity and society. The cold, misanthropic pessimism that led most to shy away from her after getting a peek behind the curtain. Maki had been one of her first friends, before they became more than that.
She looked down at the floor, preferring scuffed hardwood to the way Kaede’s stare was trying to pierce her to the bone.
“It’s my life, isn’t it?” she finally replied. The sulky sound of her own voice made her cringe, shoulders hunching up as if to further attempt to hide herself from her girlfriend’s judgment. “Not yours. Besides, there’s no guarantees. Just because I go in for an audition doesn’t mean they’ll pick me in the end. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people try out every year for less than 16 spots. I’d have a better shot at winning the lottery.”
“Maybe you should try that then, if you’re more confident in your chances,” Kaede fired back without hesitation. Her footsteps echoed quietly on the floor, and with her downcast gaze, Maki could see that she was pacing. Trying to contain the full extent of her displeasure? Maybe. “It’d be less of a stupid idea than volunteering to throw your life away for a chance at a big win.”
“You watch Danganronpa! You enjoy it! With your hatred of most of humanity, you should be the absolute last person judging me for this.” Maki’s hand curled into a fist at her side, clenching until she could feel her short-bitten nails digging unevenly into the meat of her palm. She dared to glance up from the floor, just long enough to meet Kaede’s eyes as she said, “You should understand how unlikely it is to get what I want any other way.”
“We can get enough for the two of us in plenty of other ways. Yeah, it might be miserable, but we can work enough to get ourselves somewhere nice, be able to do at least some of the things we want to do. You can just... focus on yourself for once instead of trying to play the savior.” Kaede sighed in frustration. Maki, unable to tear her eyes away again once she was looking, transfixed by how beautiful she looked even when angry, watched as she raked a hand through her hair, leaving staticky strands of honey blonde sticking up in her wake.
“What exactly are you proposing I do, Kaede? Really, I want to hear this one.”
“You know exactly what I mean. What point is there in playing dumb about it?” She paused for only a second, not enough time for Maki to formulate any real response, then continued on in a slightly softer tone, as if it took great effort to modulate her voice appropriately. “Just give up on saving the orphanage, Maki. It’s too big a job for one person and you know it. Everyone does. No one’s going to blame you for not being able to swoop in with a big enough pile of money to solve everything.”
Logically, she knew Kaede was right. Nobody would blame her. The kindest of the teachers and caretakers would just be glad she’d made something of herself, and as for the children... She’d become nothing more than a figure who visited occasionally. Their misplaced blame would be far more likely directed at those they saw more regularly. But...
“I’d blame myself. If I knew there was a chance I could have made a difference and I didn’t take it. I promised myself I’d do everything I could to protect those kids, and if I changed my mind and started focusing only on myself now, I’d know I gave up.” She shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
For a while, there was silence. Maki focused on the repetitive motion of clenching her hand tightly into a fist, then loosening it again before repeating it. Nothing much, but it helped steady her breathing and the wild beating of her heart. She couldn’t read the expression on Kaede’s face, couldn’t tell what she was thinking at all beyond a guess that she wasn’t happy with what she’d heard.
Kaede turned away from her. For one agonizing moment, Maki thought she might be about to storm out of the room entirely, to give her the silent treatment for the rest of the evening. But she was only going over to her favorite battered armchair in the corner, sinking down into it and tucking her legs beneath herself.
“I assumed as much,” she finally said. Maki, still clenching and unclenching her fist, could see that Kaede was drumming her fingers on her thigh, rapping out some indiscernible beat. “You’re just as stubborn as I am. I knew I wasn’t going to talk you out of it, not even by insisting I need you here with me. Not when you’re convinced those kids need you more.”
“So?” she prompted, a little hesitant. “You’re not going to be angry about me auditioning? You understand why I have to try?”
“I understand, but I never said I wasn’t going to be angry. I’m plenty angry with you.” Kaede let out a bitter, broken little laugh, but at the end of it, she forced a smile. Not the false smile she pasted on in public to hide how dead inside she truly felt, but the real smile that was just for Maki, only on rare occasions. “It’s just that I came to a decision of my own.”
“And what’s that?” Slow, remembering how to use her legs, Maki crossed the small space of their shabby living room, perching on the arm of Kaede’s chair. No fond grip curled around her waist, but neither was she pushed away, so she’d take it as a victory. Better than she thought she’d get just a few minutes ago.
“If I can’t talk you out of auditioning for Danganronpa, I’m just going to have to go with you. I’ll audition too. Both of us go or neither of us do. That’s my final offer.” From the set of her jaw, Maki knew that if she tried to argue against that, it really would be a brutal fight.
“Alright,” she agreed. “I’ll accept that.” After all, what were the odds?