Archive of Our Own

Regrets

Makoto never thought he'd be happy to see his dorm. His dorm—the peach, repetitively-patterned walls, the metal plates substituting windows, the empty floor, the pale-blue bed—all of it was a reminder of his circumstances. A reminder that he was trapped in a school by a psychopathic lunatic with his rapidly dwindling classmates.

Now? Now his dorm was a reminder that he was alive. It was a reminder that he had survived. That he had dismantled Monokuma's trap, the trap meant to kill Kyoko, and not only survived the resulting execution but had successfully argued for both his life and a retrial.

Ok, that was overexaggerating his involvement. Kyoko had been the one to bargain for his life while he stood there like a gaping fish, but the point still stood.

Makoto Naegi was alive.

A sporadic, high-pitched, almost demented giggle broke out from him as he flopped onto the sheets, heaving and shuddering as he buried his face in the pillow, his laughter coming out in fits. Alive, alive, alive! He was alive!

He had done the impossible! He had saved Kyoko's life and his own!

After minutes of this, his laughter died down, changing into long, deep breaths. Tear stains went down his face, a result of his hysterics, but he couldn't find it in himself to care anymore. The lucky boy rolled over onto his back, and the sight of the ceiling staring down at him—yet another indicator that he was, indeed, still alive—sent him into another fit of delirious laughter.

Taking deep breaths as he came down from the fit, Makoto finally felt the adrenaline begin to drain out, settling into something not quite resembling drowsiness, but not the high he had been feeling minutes ago. As this happened, Makoto became gradually aware of a feeling of something brushing against his back.

Frowning, Makoto shuffled around so that he was looking down on the spot in his bed he'd been occupying a moment ago. There sat what looked like a folded piece of paper, slightly crinkled and ruffled from him having rolled onto it earlier.

Briefly, Makoto considered a trap by the mastermind, but dismissed it afterwards. If they had been planning to kill him, they would have done so when he and Kyoko returned from the garbage pit. That possibility out of mind, Makoto unfolded the piece of paper.

Written on it, in simple, practical handwriting, was a single word: "Bathhouse." Makoto knew immediately who had sent him this. Even had he not recognized the handwriting, there was only one person who would leave such a terse, cryptic message. Despite the situation, a smile wormed its way onto his face as he left to meet up with Kyoko.

He wasn't sure why she had called him to the bathhouse, but he was certain it had to do with the mastermind. The bathhouse was one of the few places with no cameras, one of the few places where they could talk with each other unsurveyed by the mastermind. For Kyoko to call him there, it must mean that she had discovered something important!

She's amazing…He thought as he made his way there, We've just barely started, and she's already found something! But he wasn't all that surprised. Kyoko was always amazing. She noticed things no one else did, she never once gave into despair or fear, she never once lost her composure or faltered. Even all the way back in the beginning, when they had first been forced into the killing game, it was Kyoko who had set them on the right track to investigating the school.

And, in a way, knowing all this made Makoto feel a little special, too. Because when Kyoko needed help, it was him she came to. Even when his help boiled down to being a distraction, the mere idea of him being useful to her in any capacity made something warm and cozy bubble up inside him.

And he still remembered that night. The night Mukuro, or whoever was in that mask, had tried to kill him, and it was Kyoko who had saved him. His memories of that night were foggy thanks to the fever he had had, but he knew, in the same way he knew where his arms and legs were, that Kyoko had saved his life that night.

"I was just…protecting you."

Her voice had been so soft with that admission, softer than he had ever thought possible. That gentleness, that genuine emotion in her voice when she had said that, had made his decision during that trial all the easier.

It was with these thoughts that he ducked under the giant flaps partitioning the entrance of the bathhouse from the rest of the school. Immediately, he was hit with a wave of hot, humid air as he stepped across the threshold. Housing both a communal bath and a sauna, even the changing room was completely engulfed in a suffocating humidity.

There, standing at the opposite side of the room, was Kyoko. Sweat glistened on her forehead, and parts of her clothes were damp and stuck to her body, yet she seemed utterly unbothered by the heat in the room. She was wringing her hands together, as if to keep them occupied, when he entered, only looking up and locking eyes with him when she heard his footsteps.

Her gaze was as sharp and intense as it had always been, and, suddenly, Makoto found the room hot for an entirely different reason. Not for the first time, he was struck by just how beautiful she was.

"Makoto." She said in greeting.

"Hey, Kyoko," He responded, smiling a bit as he looked around the room, the smile dipping a little as he realized they were alone, "Am I the first one to get here? Usually, I'm one of the last to arrive at meetings like this…" He chuckled to himself a little.

"No one else is coming," Kyoko said, her voice as terse as always. "It's just us."

"Really?" Makoto asked, surprised.

"Were you expecting others?"

"Well, yeah, a little," Makoto answered, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, "I mean, you found out something about the mastermind, right…?" Suddenly, as he was asking the question, he remembered what Kyoko had said earlier that day, "Oh, that's right. You're still worried that the mastermind is one of us."

Even as he said it, the words caused an odd mixture of warmth and tightness in his chest. On the one hand, it felt wrong to doubt his classmates, his friends, like this. They had fought together through Monokuma's trials, worked together to solve murders and the mysteries of the school, and had stuck together through thick and thin. It felt wrong, dirty, to think, even for a second, that one of them was actually the mastermind.

On the other hand, Makoto couldn't suppress a feeling of giddiness at what Kyoko inviting him (And only him!) meant. She trusted him! Out of everyone here, Kyoko trusted him. Trusted him enough to share sensitive information that she couldn't trust with anyone else.

Kyoko folded her arms to her chest, her eyes closing for a second as she appeared to be in thought, "I see. You believe this has something to do with the mastermind's identity. That's a logical assumption."

Of all the things she could have said, that was perhaps the last thing Makoto had expected. He blinked in confusion as he processed what she said, his mouth opening and closing as he tried and failed to find words.

Then…it's not about the mastermind? But…then what's this all about?

"I did want to meet with you," Kyoko continued, "But this has nothing to do with the mastermind. Or even the school. Although you could say it's related to those two things. What I want to say is…a personal matter."

"A…personal matter?" Makoto parroted dumbly, before saying the first thing that came to mind, "But, wait. If that's the case, why did you want to meet in private here?"

"Technically, there would be no issue with what I have to say being overheard," Kyoko conceded, before crossing her arms again, "But permit me some selfishness…Or, I suppose, childishness. What I have to say is meant for you and you alone." She finished, and Makoto was fairly certain the red on her face wasn't just because of the heat of the room.

"Oh, um…ok," Makoto responded, at a loss for words, "What did you want to talk about?"

Instead of answering right away, Kyoko's hands tightened on the sleeves of her shirt for a moment as her eyes darted away from Makoto's and to the floor. It was only for an instant, a fleeting display of weakness, but it struck Makoto all the same because it was one of the very instances where Kyoko had ever displayed any kind of vulnerability.

"I have no intention of losing the final class trial," Kyoko said a moment later, her countenance once again composed, "But we must take into account the possibility that we will fail to meet the mastermind's terms. Or that, even if we do, they will simply execute us anyway."

Makoto gulped, a shiver of fear running down his neck at those words, before shaking his head to banish them, "Y-yeah, I know what you mean. But we've come so far! We've overcome everything the mastermind's thrown at us so far, so I know we can do this, too!"

A soft smile graced Kyoko's face, "I had a feeling you would say something like that. You're remarkably resilient, both physically and mentally." The smile faded, "But we cannot ignore the possibility that this will be our last day alive." She took a breath, as if composing herself to say something difficult.

"With that in mind, I want to face this last class trial with no regrets."

"Oh…I see," Makoto said quietly. He understood what she meant. Makoto understood having regrets. Ever since this killing game had started, it seemed as if regret after regret was being piled onto his shoulders. Every death that occurred in this wretched place was a regret. Everytime somehow snapped, and he hadn't been able to stop it, was a regret. Everytime someone cried or argued or yelled or fought was a regret. Makoto had a lot of regrets.

"You…have regrets?" Not that he thought of her as cold-hearted. Maybe when they had first met, but he knew her well enough to know that past her cold exterior was someone with a righteous heart who would stop at nothing in the pursuit of justice. But Kyoko had also always been moving forward, very rarely stopping for anything. It made it easy to feel as if Kyoko didn't care much for anything or anyone.

"Yes," With one word, Kyoko shattered that assumption, "I have many regrets.," She dropped her gaze to the gloves she always wore, looking at them with an odd look, "More, I suspect, than even I realize."

That's right, she lost her memory, Makoto recalled what she had told him down in the garbage pit. He had assumed she had regained all of it, but perhaps she had only remembered her talent, her father, and her reason for coming to Hope's Peak Academy. And if what Monokuma had said was true, that those gloves hid horrific scars, then maybe they were connected to something she had regretted doing in her past.

"An interesting thing about regrets," Kyoko kept talking, lifting her gaze back up to Makoto, "Is that, oftentimes, once you realize you have them, you're no longer in a position to act on them."

She fixed her gaze on him fully, her lavender eyes boring into him with an intensity he never thought possible. In them, Makoto saw a swirl of emotions he had never expected from the stoic detective: Sadness. Fear. Anger. Guilt.

"Watching you go down that conveyor belt towards your death, I realized how many regrets I had."

Immediately, the last words he had heard before being dragged into the execution chamber roared to life in his head.

"I don't expect you to forgive me. I know this is all my fault."

Kyoko…His heart ached at the sudden realization of the guilt Kyoko was carrying.

"Kyoko, I-"

"I used you." Kyoko interrupted him with a sharp glare, "Don't deny it. I used you. I sacrificed you in order to save myself."

"Kyoko, that's not-"

"You were the first, and perhaps only, person to trust me, and I repaid that trust by allowing you to die."

"Kyoko-!"

"It was selfish, hypocritical, unforgivabl-"

"KYOKO!" Makoto's yell stopped Kyoko's self-deprecating rant, her eyes widening in shock. He, too, was surprised by his own actions. The idea of interrupting, of yelling at Kyoko, was so ludicrous it bordered on comical. But he had to do it because she had a fundamental misunderstanding of the situation.

"I chose, Kyoko! I chose to do it! You didn't sacrifice me, I chose to sacrifice myself to save you!"

Kyoko stayed silent, watching him as if he were some unfamiliar specimen, something she didn't understand. When she didn't respond, Makoto simply continued where he had left off.

"And I'd do it again! Even if I knew for certain that I would die, I would make the same choice over and over and over again!" He all but yelled, his voice fierce in its conviction, "If the choice is between my life and yours, then it's not a choice! I will always choose you!"

"...Why?" Kyoko finally responded, her voice laced with confusion and hints of something else, guilt, perhaps? "I don't understand you, Makoto. Why don't you hate me? You should despise me for this. Why don't you?"

Because I'd rather die than live in a world without you was the first thing that popped into his head, but what he said was "Because it's not your fault. You didn't kill Mukuro. You didn't trap us in the school and force us to kill one another. All those things are the mastermind's fault. They're the only one who deserves blame. I don't blame you, Kyoko." His voice softened, "I never did."

Kyoko stood silent as she seemed to absorb the full effect of Makoto's words. Her chest rose and fell in intervals as her eyes scanned Makoto, as if searching for signs of deceit. If that was the case, then she would find none, for he had meant every single word he had said. Then, slowly, she seemed to rise, growing taller, as if a weight that had been holding her down was only now removed.

"...Thank you, Makoto," She said, her voice uncharacteristically emotive, "That means a lot to me."

A grin broke out on Makoto's face as the warm feeling he had felt earlier returned, bubbling up within him. "Of course!" He said, still smiling, "You don't have to apologize for anything."

Kyoko's face grew heavy again, "That's where you're wrong. I still have much to apologize for. That trial was merely the culmination of my exploitation of you."

Makoto's smile fell as he heard those words, "Kyoko…"

"I know you're observant, so surely you realized that my treatment of you throughout our time here has not been the greatest," Kyoko said, her face carefully impassive. "Yes, I aided you during investigations and the class trials, but I also withheld information from you. Several times, I manipulated you into acting solely for my own benefit, to your own detriment."

"Are…are you talking about the data center?" Makoto hesitantly ventured. It had been just after Sakura's trial. Kyoko had woken him up in the middle of the night and told him to meet her at the data center. Except, when he had gotten there, she was nowhere to be found, and Makoto found himself fearing for his life when his prodding about the data center attracted Monokuma. It was only when Kyoko later told him about the headmaster's office and the master key she found there that he realized she had used him as a distraction then.

"That is one of them, yes." Kyoko confirmed, "But, in my opinion, not the most egregious. That would be the secret room."

Right, he remembered that. After Celeste's trial, Kyoko had told him about the secret room in the boy's bathroom on the second floor. He had looked in there, only to be attacked by someone, presumably the mastermind, after arriving. And then, the next day, Kyoko had revealed that not only had she expected something like that, but her primary interest had been learning whether or not the mastermind knew about the room. And, of course, their fight about Sakura happened then as well.

"I knew there was a chance the mastermind would attack you, but I did nothing to prepare you." Kyoko continued, "I gave you no forewarning, no advice, not even a simple 'be careful'. And…" Her eyes shifted from him to the floor, and she grit her teeth, as if the words she was considering were physically painful, "I can't help but wonder if I would have bothered to tell you about the room at all, had I already the answers I sought."

Makoto's eyes widened at the admission, "Kyoko?"

She chuckled humorlessly, "And then there was what happened afterwards." She looked back up at him, a sardonic smile on her face, "I kept secrets from you; even when I revealed them, I still kept the whole truth from you, pulled you around like a puppet, but the moment you dared to keep a secret from me, I acted the child and threw a tantrum."

"Kyoko, that's not true!" Makoto reflexively responded, "I mean, I understand why. You did trust me with something big, and then I turned around and kept a big secret from you, so I understand why you were mad." He blushed a little, "You-you didn't 'throw a tantrum'.

"Oh, I didn't?" Kyoko asked hotly, "Then what was it? I refused to speak with you, I refused to be in the same room as you, I refused to even eat breakfast unless you weren't in the dining room. Every time you tried to talk to me, to explain your side of the story, I purposefully cut you off and ignored you, just to hurt you. What is that if not an unreasonable child throwing a tantrum?"

Makoto opened his mouth to refute her…and no words came out. He closed it, then opened it again, seeking the words to respond, but he couldn't find anything.

Kyoko sighed, seeing his silence as a tacit agreement with her, "From the beginning, I treated you not as an equal, but a subordinate, expecting full subservience from you. And yet, I also confided in you as if you were an equal." She looked to the side, seemingly troubled, "I tried to have both at the same time. I believe the phrase is…" She put her finger to her chin, "Have my cake and eat it too? Yes, that's it."

She then turned to face him directly again, her arms falling to her side, "So, Makoto, I apologize. I'm sorry that I never trusted you the same way you trusted me. I'm sorry I used you, that I put you in danger again and again to satisfy my own desires." Her eyes softened, and though Kyoko would later claim it had been a trick of the light, Makoto swore he saw beads of moisture gathering in the edges of them, "I know words alone are insufficient, but they're all I have."

She's not asking me to forgive her, he suddenly realized. Just like before, during the class trial, she was apologizing without asking, without expecting forgiveness.

Does she really think this is unforgivable? Is…is it affecting her that much?

He understood, in a way, why she thought that way. Because hearing it all laid out to him like this, all the ways she had used him, it…bothered him. Makoto didn't like to admit it, but it bothered him, upset him, even. He had thought himself fine with it, so long as he was of use to Kyoko. And a part of that was true: He did like that he was helpful to her. He enjoyed aiding her and knew that she wasn't being careless with her plans, and that she put herself in danger as much as, if not more than, she put him in. But a part of him had always wished she could trust him fully, to bring him into her plans completely, not as an assistant but as a partner. And hearing her regrets laid out so candidly like this made that part of him grow louder and louder.

And yet, he bore no grudge against her. He couldn't. Not when her guilt was so clearly visible to him. Yes, her face was as impassive as always, but he knew Kyoko. Knew her enough to tell that her words were sincere, that the guilt he saw in her eyes was genuine. And it was that reason that the decision to forgive her wasn't hard at all.

Moving slowly, Makoto crossed the space between them and, a little hesitantly, raised a hand near Kyoko's. He stopped, his hand just a hairbreadth away from hers, and gave her a look, silently asking permission.

A quizzical look was on her face as she watched him approach, tinged with curiosity and…something else that he couldn't place. After a moment, she gave a short, quick nod, and Makoto slowly took one of her hands in his own.

Gingerly, he wrapped his fingers around her palm, feeling the smooth, leathery texture of her gloves. He had never felt Kyoko's gloves before, and he wasn't certain what had pushed him to do something as bold as this. Maybe it was his desire to make her feel better? To reassure her and himself that he was still alive?

Or maybe it was because, as Kyoko had said earlier, this could be their last day alive, and he, too, didn't want any regrets.

Regardless of the case, and ignoring the heat on his face that was threatening to bloom into a full-face blush, Makoto slowly tightened his hand around Kyoko's until their hands were intertwined with each other. He half-expected Kyoko to pull away, to suddenly realize what he was doing and chastise him for it. But, to his shock, she didn't. If anything, she reciprocated, tightening her own grip on him.

"I forgive you." He said quietly, "I-I won't lie and say it doesn't hurt, but I forgive you, Kyoko." He lifted his gaze from their hands to her face, looking at Kyoko, whose own face was beginning to flush, "You're still human, even if you are the Ultimate Detective. You're allowed to make mistakes. And you've saved my life too." He smiled a gentle smile at her, one full of hope and trust, "So, I forgive you."

A faint smile flickered on Kyoko's face for a brief instance before it was covered by a meaningless scoff, "You really are one of a kind, Makoto. Thank you."

They stood there for an indeterminable amount of time, saying nothing but simply basking in each other's presence, their hands held in each other's. After some time, however, there was a near-imperceptible tug from Kyoko, a silent request to break the embrace.

Somewhat reluctantly, Makoto removed his hand from Kyoko's, stepping back as Kyoko returned her arms to her side. There was a flicker of something in her eyes, something troubling her.

"That's the first regret resolved." Kyoko finally said. Somehow, she seemed more on edge than she had when Makoto had first entered. Like a tension had entered her body, making her all wound up. If anything, he would have thought that she would have relaxed, but it was as if the weight that had been temporarily lifted off her had come crashing back down.

"First…so there's more?" Makoto asked, watching Kyoko with a frown. He had no idea what was going through her head, while she seemed so tense all of a sudden.

"Yes…one more regret." Kyoko nodded, "Specifically, this regret is about things I've left unsaid." She stalled for a second, mouth closing before opening again, "I…want to rectify that."

Things left unsaid? What does she mean by that?

For several seconds, there was nothing but silence as Kyoko stared ahead, her fingers curling inward into her arms, a gesture that could only be a sign of nervousness. It was an astonishing sight to Makoto, and one he only caught because he was already so close to her.

"Please understand that, as difficult as admitting fault in my actions already was, this is something I'm even more unused to," Kyoko finally said, "So I'm not entirely sure if I know the correct way to communicate what I want to say."

"That's fine, I understand," Makoto said immediately, "Just take your time."

Kyoko frowned, "We don't have time. If you'll recall, we're supposed to be investigating the identity of the mastermind and the remaining secrets of this school. I can't exactly afford to 'take my time' as you suggest." She sighed as she seemed to debate something with herself, "I suppose there's nothing for it; I'll have to simply speak my thoughts as they are."

Kyoko fixed him with one of her intense looks, the kind she gave when she was about to say something of immense importance. "Makoto, you…are important to me."

The moment her words reached him, Makoto felt a deep scarlet flush run up his face as he startled, shocked by what he was hearing. While he had always hoped that Kyoko saw him as a friend the same way he did her, he hadn't expected to hear her say it in such a way.

"When I first met you, I thought you were naive." Kyoko continued, bluntly, "Kind, yes, but naive to the ways of the world. However, your behavior throughout the first, and especially the second, class trial challenged my view of you. I realized that, though you were perhaps unrealistically optimistic, you were also determined and strong. You have a strong sense of justice, and your kindness is also to be commended." She smiled, a rare, genuine smile, "You have a unique talent for bringing people together." She gave a soft, quiet laugh, "You're like a magnet."

"I began to see you as a useful ally," the detective continued, "But no more than that. Someone that I could make use of, but not someone to grow attached to." She turned her head to the side so that Makoto couldn't see the troubled expression on her face, "Of course, that didn't last. At some point, you crossed some nebulous threshold, and I began to see you as more than just an ally. I can't say when, exactly, that occurred, but it wasn't until the Sakura incident that I became aware of it."

"Wait, really?" Makoto couldn't keep the surprise out of his tone. He knew that Kyoko was a closed-guarded individual, and the fact that it had taken her that long to view him as more than just an ally wasn't all too surprising to him. But the fact that she apparently hadn't realized she was friends with him until after their argument was surprising.

"...I realized it, because it hurt," Kyoko continued, her head still turned away from him, "Not only was I upset that you were withholding information from me, I realized that it hurt that you didn't trust me, in a way that couldn't possibly be the result of me simply viewing you as an ally."

She finally turned her head back to him, her eyes not as intense as they usually were, but holding some kind of awareness in them, "And if I only viewed you as an ally, my reaction made no sense. Byakuya routinely withheld information from me as well, and Toko always has some insult or another ready, but those two never warranted the silent treatment I gave you." She shifted her head in a questioning way, "The difference, of course, was that I didn't care about them in the way I cared about you."

An indescribable feeling arose through Makoto, equal parts warmth and coolness. Hearing Kyoko talk so openly about how she cared about him made him feel a sense of happiness that he couldn't quite explain—nor one that he had ever experienced before. It was like a jolt of lightning racing up and down his spine. And yet, at the same time, a sense of guilt permeated him as he realized that he hadn't been the only one hurt by their argument. He knew, logically of course, that Kyoko would only have reacted that way if what he had done had hurt her, but hearing her speak it so plainly made his heart ache.

"I'm sorry," the words tumbled out his lips before he could stop them, a desperate need to alleviate the pain and sadness Kyoko had hinted at driving them out, "I-I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"I know," Kyoko responded quickly, "I know, Makoto. You don't need to apologize."

"Sor-" Makoto started, reflexively, only to shut his mouth at a glare from Kyoko, "I mean, I feel bad—I just wish I hadn't hurt you."

A sound somewhere between a laugh and a huff came from Kyoko as she idly played with one of her braids, "Do you think I haven't had the same thoughts?"

Makoto nodded haltingly, "Y-yeah, I get what you mean." There was silence again as the two of them processed what had just happened. Or, rather, as Makoto processed it. Again, the light, giddy sensation raced up and down him, and he couldn't help the smile that formed on his face. The idea that someone as amazing as Kyoko cared about him was…well, amazing. He had never done drugs before, but he imagined that what he was feeling now must be similar to being high. He certainly felt light-headed, at least.

"Hey, um, Kyoko," He started, breaking the silence, "Thank you. I'm glad we're friends."

There was another bout of silence as Kyoko stared at him, an indescribable blankness on her face, and Makoto started to wonder if he hadn't just ruined everything.

That wasn't too far, right?! Come on, seriously?! I held her hand, but calling her a friend is what shuts her down?!

"...So that's how you see it…" Kyoko mumbled, almost too quiet for Makoto to hear.

"Huh?" He said, eloquently.

"Makoto…you are important to me," Kyoko repeated what she had earlier said, "very important. Your kindness, your optimism, your hope, your idealism are all things I admire about you." She said, once again crossing her arms, her fingers digging into them, "Watching you nearly die brought a unique pain to me, one I doubt I've ever experienced before, and the two days I spent preparing to rescue you, I spent in a frenzy I've never been in before. It was as if my entire being was dedicated towards your survival, the very idea of failure being something I could not tolerate."

"Kyoko…" Makoto started, surprised and, admittedly, a little confused. Where was she going with this? He wouldn't lie and say her words were unappreciated; he felt his heart beat a little faster with every word she spoke, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that the nature of my feelings for you, I would not classify them as friendship."

"H-huh?!" Makoto stumbled back on reflex, stunned beyond reckoning. He had never expected to hear anything remotely similar to those words from Kyoko, of all people.

Not friendship…? Does she…No, there's no way she means that, right?!

"H-hey, Kyoko, what do you mean, exactly?" He asked, his euphoria having been replaced by a current of anxiety and tension.

She stared at him as if he had said something particularly stupid and sighed disappointedly, "Are you actually oblivious? Or are you simply giving me an out?" Before he could respond, she simply huffed and straightened up, "Very well, allow me to put it in a way that leaves no room for doubt."

And then, before he could respond, Kyoko crossed the distance between them and, in one fluid motion, grabbed the collar of his shirt and pressed her lips to his own.

Makoto felt his brain shut down as he stood there, completely transfixed by the feeling of Kyoko's lips against his. An overwhelming heat ran up and down his body, completely drowning out the oppressive humidity of the room. His hands stayed in the air, his arms having shot out and up at the moment she had grabbed him, grasping at nothing.

Kyoko is…kissing me?! He desperately tried to make sense of what was going on. Part of him found it impossible to believe what he was seeing was real. He was certain that, any moment now, he would wake up from what must obviously be a dream. It wouldn't be the first time he had such dreams. But this was different. He could actually feel the rough, leathery texture of her gloved hands around his neck, the softness of her lips against him, her drumming heartbeat so close to him. This was real.

I…really am lucky He realized belatedly. This was literally a dream come true.

After only a moment, Kyoko pulled away from him. Her face was flushed red, though he was sure it wasn't anywhere near as scarlet as his own. She was still hovering just near him, their faces only inches apart, and her hands resting on his shoulders.

"I've never been in love before," Kyoko said suddenly, "Or, if I have, it's a memory I've yet to recall. So I don't know if what I feel towards you is love, but, if I had to give a name to it, that's what I would choose."

Love. Such a simple, four-letter word that somehow contained a world's worth of implications. He had never expected to hear Kyoko speak that word in regards to someone else, much less him. It made his entire being swell with joy, and he had to fight to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.

Love! She loves me! She kissed me! Those thoughts ran over and over through his head, overlapping and layering atop each other like a rhythmic wave.

"This was my chief regret," Kyoko continued, dragging him from his thoughts, "More than anything else, I needed you to know how I felt about you."

"O-oh, y-yeah, I understand," Makoto stammered up, still recovering from what had just occurred. But he truly did understand, because the moment he had realized what Kyoko was doing, a burning need of his own had arisen.

"That's all, then," Kyoko said suddenly, pulling away completely, "We shouldn't waste anymore time in here." Abruptly, she walked past him at a steady, fast pace.

Wait, she's leaving?! Already?! Part of him understood why. After all, Kyoko had said it herself: This was new territory for her. No wonder she wanted to leave it behind and rush back to what was familiar.

But I can't let her leave, not yet! Because I have things I need to say, too!

"Wait, Kyoko!" Makoko called out, reaching to grab her arm before she could leave. His hand brushed the fabric of her sleeve, enough to get her attention, and she spun on her heel, a brief flash of irritation that was quickly masked on her face.

"Yes, Makoto?" She asked neutrally, as if the past few minutes hadn't happened. As if nothing had changed between them. As if she hadn't just kissed him. "We can't afford to dawdle here. Every minute we waste here is a minute not spent preparing for the final class trial."

"Y-you're just going to leave after all this?!" Makoto stammered out. The idea of just going back as if nothing had happened was, frankly, ridiculous to him.

"Naturally," was her terse reply, "In the end, none of this changes our circumstances. I've done what I came here to do, so there's no reason to stay here." Her voice remained as unmoved and impassive as always, but there was a tenseness to her posture, an unnatural rigidity, "That is, of course, unless you have something to say."

"I do!" Makoto responded immediately, "I do have something to say!" He wouldn't lie and say he wasn't nervous, that the tension he observed in Kyoko wasn't mirrored in his own body. But, as with every other time he had been confronted with something that made him want to stop and run away, he steeled himself and forced himself to keep moving forward.

"I've had dreams like this," He confessed quietly.

"...What?" Kyoko's voice was laced with bewilderment, and he couldn't blame her.

"I mean, I've dreamt about you kissing me before," Makoto elaborated, tilting his head down and to the side to avoid Kyoko's piercing gaze.

"...Oh…" Kyoko responded, and a small, childish part of Makoto cheered that he had managed to bring Kyoko to the closest to speechlessness that he could ever reasonably expect from her, "That's…I was not expecting that."

"You're really pretty," Makoto blurted out the first thing that came to mind as his head shot back up to face her, and was rewarded with a slight widening of Kyoko's eyes. "And I really like your hair; t-the style and the color." He finished, very much aware of the blush covering his face.

"I see," Kyoko muttered to herself, "Thank you, Makoto." She said, more loudly.

He wasn't sure what it was, the feeling of weightlessness left behind by Kyoko's confession, the heat of the bathhouse, or his own momentum, but Makoto felt an overwhelming urge to keep talking, to keep spilling every little private thought he had collected about Kyoko over the days.

"You're really smart, honestly, you're just straight-up amazing." He continued, his voice growing with his confidence, "I'm always happy spending time with you, and I can't express how grateful I am for all the times you've helped me during the trials. Honestly, just being around you makes my day better."

Kyoko stood still as a statue, drinking in every word he spoke like it was a panacea. Her face betrayed nothing, but the nervousness and rigidity he had observed in earlier seemed to wax and wane, as if she was fighting some internal battle on how to take his words.

A stab of guilt pierced as he realized this. It wasn't fair to keep Kyoko guessing. He needed to clear up those doubts, now!

"I've also never really been in love before," Makoto said with a slight chuckle, "So I don't know what it feels like. But…I know that I can't get you out of my head, I know that I think you're beautiful, that I feel better around you, and, well, I really, really like you, Kyoko." He threw up his hands with a laugh that was equal parts giddiness and nervousness, "So, uh, if I had to choose a word to describe how I feel about you, I'd choose love, too."

There was a second or two of absolute silence before a breathless laugh came from the lavender-haired girl as the tension seemed to drain out of her. A smile drew on her face as she said, "That's a relief. Truly."

He wasn't sure what gave him the courage to ask the next question, but the words were already out his mouth before he fully understood what he was saying, "Can I kiss you?"

There was a flicker of surprise in Kyoko's eyes, one that was swiftly replaced by mirth, "By all means." She replied, and he could almost hear the unspoken plea in her voice.

More than a little nervous, Makoto moved haltingly. He hadn't been lying earlier; he had never been in a relationship before, and so to say he was afraid of messing things up now was a gross understatement. Still, he kept moving until his face hovered just next to hers. Trying his best to ignore the trepidation, Makoto closed the last centimeters between them.

The kiss earlier had been one-sided. Makoto had been too shocked by what was happening to reciprocate in any meaningful way. With it clear that they both wanted the same thing, however, the second kiss was far from one-sided. The moment Makoto's lips brushed against hers, Kyoko pushed forward, as if unwilling to wait any longer.

As with before, the kiss lasted only a few moments before they both broke away. Makoto had never kissed anyone, so he had nothing to compare the experience to, but he knew he liked it. The small, twitching smile on Kyoko's face told him that she had enjoyed it as well.

Staring into her lavender eyes, it was like a wave of clarity washed over him. A sudden, sparking realization. And he saw the moment that clarity hit Kyoko as well, as if the truth of everything that had just occurred hit her all at once.

A dual conclusion, realized by the two of them at exactly the same time.

She/He wants me

And then, before he could fully realize what he was doing, Makoto found himself pushing Kyoko against a nearby wall, all but rushing to capture her lips with his own.

The earlier kisses had been ones of caution and hesitance. Chaste and testing. This one was the opposite, full of fire and desire. Makoto was vaguely aware of the rough sensation of Kyoko's gloves, one on the back of his head, the other his back, holding him in place; his own hands had found the back of her shirt, gripping the fabric with a need he had never once experienced before. A muffled, guttural sound came from one of them—he couldn't be certain who—and he felt Kyoko's mouth open ever so slightly, just enough for him to understand what she was asking for.

Under any other circumstances, he may have hesitated. In any other circumstances, Makoto might have been held back by nervousness. But, by now, any such nervousness he may have felt had long been drowned out by the scent of Kyoko and the weight of her body pressed into him. The world had faded, leaving them alone in a void where only they mattered. He mirrored her movements, opening his own mouth in response, and their kiss deepened and blossomed into something far beyond anything he could ever hope to describe.

What could have only been minutes at most, but felt like hours, later, the two slowly broke contact. They didn't go far, still so close they could feel each other's hot breath on their faces. Sweat glistened down Kyoko's face as she took quick, sharp breaths, and he was certain that his own face was no less disheveled.

"I don't know what came over me…" Makoto started in between breaths. He wasn't sure he was apologizing, exactly. It felt more like an explanation. And it was the truth: he couldn't pinpoint what, exactly, had overridden his inhibitions to the point he acted so brazenly.

"I think…" Kyoko started, taking deep breaths, "I think we just realized that we wanted the same thing." She was still close to him; her hands still lingered on his back, though her grip had softened considerably into something more gentle. "And so there was no reason for either of us to hold back."

"Ah…yeah, that makes sense." Leave it to Kyoko to figure it out. "So, um, what happens next?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Kyoko asked rhetorically as she straightened her clothes, pulling away fully from Makoto, to his disappointment. "Now we begin our investigation."

Of course she's able to switch tracks immediately, He thought sardonically, That's Kyoko for you…

"Ah, ok, I guess we should get started." He responded. "But, um, Kyoko?"

"Yes?" She stopped from where she'd been heading towards the exit, turning to face him.

"What are we?"

An amused huff came from her direction, "Again, isn't it obvious? We confessed deep feelings for each other and kissed each other. Quite passionately, I might add."

"W-well, yeah, but-"

"So you can put your tongue in my mouth, but calling me your girlfriend is where you stumble?"

And just like that, the heat returned to Makoto's face with a vengeance, "That's-!"

"Honestly, I don't see the issue. It's just a portmanteau of the words girl and friend, and those are both words you've used to describe me before, correct?"

"You know that's not the issue!"

A laugh sounded from Kyoko as her face adopted a soft smile, "I know, Makoto. It's just that you really are too easy to fluster."

"Kyoko…" An admittedly unmanly whine came from Makoto as he realized what Kyoko was doing. It wasn't the first time she had teased a reaction out of him like this.

"You really do wear your heart on your sleeve," Kyoko said unexpectedly, "That's another trait I love about you." Before he could respond to that, her face returned to its usual impassivity, "But now we really must begin our investigation. We've spent far more time here than I originally planned."

Makoto felt the levity drain from his body as he once again was reminded of the situation and the threat of execution hanging over all of them. "Yeah, you're right. Where should we start?"

Without missing a beat, Kyoko responded, "The second-floor dorm should be our first priority."

"The second floor dorm? But didn't you already investigate there?"

Kyoko nodded, "Yes, but there is one room I haven't been able to access yet. You could call it my final regret."

Understanding flickered through Makoto as he nodded, "I understand." A determined smile grew on his face, "We'll figure it out, together."

A smile laced with something he couldn't quite place flickered on Kyoko's face for a second before fading, "Together? Once, I'm not sure I could have accepted such a sentimental notion." She turned to face him fully, "But you're right. I want you by my side, Makoto."

Makoto felt his heart swell with joy as he heard those words, and he hurried to her side, falling into step with her.

"One more thing, Makoto," Kyoko said right as they were at the threshold of the bathhouse, just steps away from the rest of the school, "For the time being, I believe we should keep the…change in our relationship a secret. I don't want to give the mastermind any more ammunition to use against us."

Makoto nodded jerkily. He understood her logic, even if it wasn't something he really liked. Still, he was more than willing to accommodate Kyoko.

As if sensing his discomfort, though, Kyoko's hand pressed against his, running a thumb over the outer palm, "I promise," She whispered, "Once this is over, we'll have more than enough time to explore our relationship."

Makoto laughed a little, "You're saying that like I need more motivation to defeat the mastermind."

Kyoko smiled briefly, "Perhaps I'm saying it for my benefit, not yours." She whispered, and Makoto felt his throat dry up as he realized that, beneath the stoicness of her eyes, lay a hunger that one would never expect from someone like Kyoko, and he was reminded that, of the three kisses they had shared, Kyoko had been the one to initiate two of them.

"R-right, yeah." He stumbled over his words as they exited the bathhouse. The moment they were hit with a cool breeze, a stark difference from the humidity they had gotten used to before. It cooled the fire they had been feeling, dampening their minds and returning them to a state of seriousness.

Without saying a word, Kyoko turned and walked towards the barred-off stairs that led to the second floor of the dorms, and Makoto followed soon after.

It was time to get to work.