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Kyoko remembers being 13. She remembers the day she got her DSC license, and the expression on her grandfather’s face: not proud one bit. No suprises: because it was the bare minimum. 919? Good enough.
Kyoko’s 12 year old daughter was her carbon copy. Keiko had her same exact looks, personality, and most mannerisms (Keiko had no emotional trama tho). And, she wanted to know what it would be like to have a daughter for a detective; being the mother to her daughter that she never recived.
When her daughter was 9, Kyoko trained Keiko to be a detective. The world was almost too peaceful, as everyone was quarantined due to the growing disease (wink wink); naturally ensuring a good environment for the child to learn.
Keiko was already precocious. Fuhito was amazed at her, even if Kyoko’s parenting strategies were “not good enough” compared to his. However, her detective training took her 3 years before she was at the skill her mother was at post Hope’s Peak acceptance. She was a 11 year old who’s skills compared to a 19 year old prodigy.
Keiko’s only problem; she was a tad bit too young. Nobody had heard of a 11 year old detective before. To solve this, she took the test a month after turning 12.
The results would come in the mail: a letter with a DSC card, or a letter with nothing. Keiko would wait day after day for it to come in anxiously.
A few days prior to the test, Keiko ran down with a severe stomach bug. Through only being awake 4 hours (including eating and vomiting), she would study her butt off. Kyoko insisted on Keiko resting, despite her asking Kyoko for another practice case.
Every single day after the test, Keiko would ask her father, Makoto, to check the mail coming home. For a week, nothing. And the week turned into two weeks.
Within routine, Makoto would go to the mailbox with an anxious Keiko in the backseat. Typically, the mailbox was not checked on the daily. So, Makoto found nothing.
He went back into the car, and turned to his daughter while buckling his seatbelt. “Sorry Keeks, I didn’t find anything today.”
“It’s fine…” Keiko responded with a hint of sadness in her voice.
“It’ll come in one day. Just don’t give up hope”.
Keiko sighed. Here her father went again with a crappy “dont give up hope” speech. Sometimes it was nice to hear, and other times, she hated it.
Makoto’s car drove into the driveway of the Naegi house. Keiko and Makoto exited the car, going through the side entry door.
Makoto opened the door, going to through the kitchen to the back door to let their dogs out. However, both dogs were inside and running to Makoto and Keiko. Both gave welcome home pets to the dogs as Kyoko walked over and gave Makoto a cheek kiss.
“Welcome home. How was Hope’s Peak today?”
All 5 moved to the kitchen, and Makoto responded, “Great. It’s application season, so I’m probably going to be busy…you’re home early.”
“Correct. Today was scheduled maintenance which I was unaware of, so I got home at 10.” Kyoko chatted, looking over and noticing her daughter’s glommy expression.
Keiko sat down at one of the kitchen island barstools, taking her binders out of her bag to start her homework. She put her elbow on the table, and rested her head on it.
“This came in.” Kyoko told her daughter as she slid an envelope to her.
Keiko’s expression lit up. Every moment had lead up to this. But, what if she failed? What if she wasn’t good enough? She lifted her head up, opening it. Both Makoto and Kyoko focused on her from the other side of the island. Would they need to reassure her, or not?
The tension in the air was heavy and anxious as Keiko opened the envelope. Her stomach felt as if was being twisted in knots as the letter unfolded, which dropped out an ID card.
Ignoring the letter, Keiko studied the ID card.
She looked okay in the photo. She hoped that she could retake it with age. It read: “DETECTIVE LIBRARY” in big bold, gold leaders. “Keiko Hope Naegi. Date of birth: March 7th, 2011. (NOT IN ALIGN WITH TIMELINE). Age 12. Rank Number: 909.”
Kyoko had a smile, which Keiko almost never saw. “What’s the number?” Kyoko asked with a sense of eagerness.
“909…Is that good? Sorry..kinda forgot.”
Kyoko chuckled at her daughter. “It’s alright. But…no human language can express how proud I am of you. I don’t think any starting detective: especially a 12 year old has ever gotten that number. Congratulations.”
Makoto was impressed as well, despite barely knowing anything. “Good Job!” He stuck out his hand to give Keiko a high five, to which Keiko gave one back.
“Well, congratulations to our new little detective…Next step, Hope’s Peak. But, we’ll do some cases here and there. You’ll still be under my supervision as well. Given that you are a 12 year old. Let’s break the news to your great grandfather next.”
Kyoko called Fuhito shortly after, breaking the news. He sounded impressed, and actually gave her a nicer speach; something Kyoko never thought would ever happen.
Actually, Kyoko never thought that she would live to have a daughter, nor a detective child prodigy.