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Family had long been a touchy subject for Kyoko Kirigiri.
Her upbringing was far from ordinary. She had been working to become a detective when most other kids her age only had to worry about getting good grades. She had probably visited more countries than someone twice her current age by the time she was twelve. The person who was in her life the most was her grandfather, not her parents. Most of the lessons and principles she carried were from him. Though, it wasn’t fair to blame both of her parents for her grandfather needing to take over.
One of them didn’t have a choice when it came to leaving her.
It made any holiday meant to be spent with family especially awkward when they rolled around. Even if she wasn’t one to celebrate holidays much anyways, they always hung over her like a cloud. Kyoko dealt in hard physical evidence, but a good detective had to think about possibilities that couldn’t be fully observed. No matter how hard she tried to focus on something else, thoughts she rather not have would squirm into her mind and attempt to pull her into a trap of hypotheticals of what could have been. What having a normal family would be like. She knew it was irrational to dwell on the things she couldn’t change, but parts of her couldn’t help it.
New Year’s was no different.
For the past few years, she’d spent it in her grandfather’s manor, both of them working on their own separate cases in silence. It wasn’t even a holiday to them, just the same old, same old. Both of them usually stayed up late completing their work, so what was just a few hours more for the calendar to switch over? Neither of them focused on the clock. They would only realize it was midnight when the grandfather clock chimed twelve times. He would then join her for a drink he brought, usually some tea while he picked sake. After they’d finished, he would collect the cups to wash and either go back to work or choose to rest. Kyoko often chose to rest afterwards, but settled back into her casework soon after she woke up. A Kirigiri like herself is practically always busy. There was no time to put time aside to celebrate, and no time to justify any distracting thoughts.
New Year’s had rolled around again, but this time, it was different. Different in such a manner that Kyoko had no idea how to handle it.
The Tragedy had made everything so different. There was no work to do since the main focus of Hope’s Peak Academy was now that of a survival shelter rather than an educational institution. The hope that those currently inside would see the sun again dwindled by the day. The chaos of the world raged on with no end in sight. In such conditions, days felt like they blended into each other as if nothing was moving forward. In reality, months had passed. Many holidays came and went without fanfare, or with students musing on how they wished they could celebrate them normally or hoping that they could next year.
It soon rolled over to December, and anyone could pick up on how crushing the atmosphere was. Even when the Headmaster tried to lift spirits with a special Christmas dinner, it was an awkward mess of periods of long silence escalating to massive emotional outbursts. Not much was celebrated that night. The students barely left their rooms for the next few days, getting into a routine of “wake up, eat, sleep” and not much else.
That was still fresh in everyone’s minds as it rolled over to New Year’s Eve.
Kyoko spent her time wandering the halls. The massive metal plates that shielded the windows made everything feel extra cold today. Perhaps there had been snowfall recently that had frozen itself on their exterior, but she wouldn’t be able to tell. She had a destination in mind: The greenhouse on the fifth floor. It wasn’t to admire the vegetation, but instead for another matter. No matter where she was in the school, she felt like she was freezing to the core. She needed to be someplace warm, and it was her best option outside of the bath house and sauna due to a few factors. For one, it was much more isolated. With the bath house being on the first floor, someone was much more likely to join her rather than somewhere on the fifth. It also meant she could stay there for longer since the place was warm rather than hot. The humidity and smell of the place would just be something she’d need to endure.
Kyoko continued down the halls and almost made it to the door when something else had caught her eye. The door to the dojo was slightly ajar. Someone had either been there recently, or was still in there now. Her gaze went from the greenhouse door to the dojo door right across the hall, questioning if she should go investigate. With one last look at the greenhouse, she lightly shook her head and made her way over to the dojo. Her footsteps were light and precise, the clicking of her heels barely noticeable. She pressed herself against the wall and slowly peered into the small opening of the door.
Inside was Makoto Naegi, back turned to the door. He was kneeling at the edge of the wooden floor and the stone facade. He looked up in the air, watching the endless stream of cherry blossom petals flutter from the surrounding trees. Some had landed in his hair, whether he hadn’t noticed or simply didn’t care was not apparent.
Even with his face hidden, Kyoko could tell he was deep in thought about something that was bothering him. His shoulders were slumped and body movements stiff, his arms shaking slightly as he mindlessly tinkers with something in his hands.
Kyoko didn’t know what to do. Makoto being so… alone was not like him at all. He’d been the one with the strongest fortitude in such a tough situation. Of course, some days were worse than others, but he still held strong. Even last week's events didn’t leave him like this. If someone like him was distancing himself from others, he must really want to be alone.
Still, seeing him like this… He hadn’t looked this affected since the day they all realized what their indefinite futures would be.
Kyoko lightly rapped on the doorframe to alert him of her presence. Makoto snapped back to reality and twisted his shoulders to the dojo’s entrance.
“Oh, hey Kiri.” He spoke, not being able to shake the lethargic tone from his voice.”...do you need anything?”
“No, I was just wandering around and I noticed the door was open.” As Kyoko replied, she watched his eyebrows crease.
“Ah…” He looked away briefly. She could tell he was mentally damning himself for not ensuring the door was shut. The room fell silent again.
“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked softly.
Makoto shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t mind.”
Kyoko wasted no time in joining him, making sure that she fully slid the door closed before she did. She sat next to him, her legs crossing over the floor’s divide and onto the stone. Makoto changed his position so that his arms rested on his knees. He had gone back to looking at the falling cherry blossoms, so she did the same. Petals began to decorate her clothes.
“This place is really pretty…” Makoto’s voice was barely audible. “Even if it kinda weirds me out to see trees like this at the end of December.”
“I agree.” Kyoko nodded softly.
“...do you think that makes them less special?”
She had not been expecting a question like that. Her love for cherry blossoms went deeper than their looks. They are a symbol of renewal and hope, a temporary beauty that passed as quickly as it came. People often wished they lasted forever, but the reason they were so appreciated was due in part to its fleeting nature. It may be technically impressive that a student of Hope’s Peak Academy managed to grow sakura trees that bloom pink petals their whole lives along with some other botanical miracles, but she had to wonder what thoughts lead to its creation. Maybe they had a similar thought process to the boy that was sitting next to her, who was still waiting for an answer.
“What makes it special is how you feel about it. If it’s special to you, then it’s special.” Was her reply.
“Heh, I knew you’d say something like that…” He chuckled humorlessly.
Kyoko's lips drooped into a small frown. She had to do something.
“Makoto,” she gently probed, “do you want to talk about it?”
“...and I knew you’d say that too…” He looked down to the floor.
“If you don’t want to, that’s alright. I assumed earlier you wanted to be left alone, so-”
“No!” Fear flashed in his eyes. His reply was quick and desperate. Too desperate. He partially yanked up a chunk of his hood to shield his face. Fear became shame. “...I wanna talk.”
Kyoko’s face softened after his outburst. If he was terrified at the thought of her leaving, it was something major. She gave him a look of encouragement, silently opening the floor for him to start.
He began with a sigh. “...Every spring, me and my family would travel to see the cherry blossoms bloom. We’d spend the whole day out together, collecting some petals to put in our house until they withered… I always looked forward to it…”
He got more and more choked up as he went on. His body began to tremble slightly.
“I… I miss them so much…” His eyes watered. “Mom, Dad, Komaru… I’m in here and they’re all outside in a living hell… I’m so worried about them…”
Kyoko's eyes filled with sympathy for him. So, Makoto had come to the dojo because it served as a reminder of pleasant family memories. It being New Year’s is probably what set him over the edge, other family memories and traditions swarming in his head like a typhoon. Now that she knew the cause of his despair, she could help him out of it. She moved in closer and rested her hand on his arm.
“If your family is even the slightest bit like you, I know they’ll be okay.”
Makoto didn’t reply, simply glancing slightly into her eyes.
“Your hope, resilience and determination are strong qualities to have in a world like this.” She spoke with tenacity. “You’re also very protective of the ones you care about. If your mother, father, and sister are anything like you, they’ll be a strong unit.”
“...They’re probably scared… worried… worried about themselves, and worried about me…”
“Fear is good. Without it, you don’t have the imagination to deduce your next actions.”
“You’ve never been afraid of any of this…”
Kyoko shook her head. “I am absolutely scared of all of this. I just hide it.”
Makoto kept silent for a few moments before replying.
“...I would give anything for them to be here… maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to lock myself in here and should’ve gone back to them…”
He was doubting himself again. It was a habit he had when something was bringing his mood down. She had to keep encouraging him before his despair spiraled out of control. She thought for a moment, thinking of how exactly to continue forward. It barely took any time for an idea to pop into her head.
She withdrew her hand from his arm. With her other hand, she tugged at the fabric of her glove until her hand was fully exposed. She reached over once more and grabbed his hand in hers, her rough scars rubbing against his soft skin. As soon as she made contact, his head turned to hers and he let out a tiny gasp.
“We all made a sacrifice when we agreed to be sealed in Hope’s Peak. We had to close ourselves off from people we cared about… but I bet if you were in their shoes, you’d want them to be safe and secure in a shelter even if you couldn’t join them, correct?”
He continued to stare at her in shock, still caught off guard from her previous action. Eventually, he gave her a subtle nod.
“I’m not saying you can’t feel worried about their wellbeing, I just want to remind you… there’s nothing that can be changed about it now. All you can do now is have hope that they’ll fight to survive, that they’ll support each other through everything, and that they’ll never stop thinking about how much they love you. That’s what family does.”
Makoto’s eyes began to water again, but this time his lips curled upward rather than down. He squeezed her hand back.
“Yeah…” He sniffled, “You’re right. You’re always so good with words, Kiri.”
When he smiled, she smiled. It warmed her to know he was feeling a bit better.
“I just said what I thought you needed to hear. People care about you, Makoto. Inside and outside of this school. Don’t forget it.”
Makoto chuckled softly again. This time, it was joyful.
“And I care about you too, Kiri. I couldn’t imagine being here without a friend like you…”
Kyoko hummed in delight. “Me neither.” She scooted in closer until their shoulders were touching, hands still interlocked.
The pair remained in the dojo for the rest of the night. The chimes of the clock bringing in the new year never reach their ears, as both had peacefully fallen asleep against each other.