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“Um… so we’re just gonna split up now?”
Kyoko couldn’t help but give the luckster a brief glance, midway through taking a step as he raised his voice to call out to her.
“Of course,” she replied matter-of-factly. “I have no reason to stay with you at this point.”
Her words were laced in ice, frosty as they left her lips and very clearly pierced the boy’s heart as a visible droplet of sweat rolled down his forehead—his eyes very clearly exposing his earnest disappointment.
She was aware of how cold her reply had come off, but it was the truth—nothing more.
“Well… maybe.” The brunette floundered around for a response for a moment longer, the lavender-haired girl watching him squirm under her chilling gaze, before his mouth finally parted. “But… isn’t that a little too… direct?”
As the words escaped his lips, Kyoko’s brows furrowed—a grimace finding its way onto her face in a display of rare and genuine emotion from her.
Despite their previous conversation regarding the slight feud that had brewed between the two—though largely driven by Kyoko herself, she could admit—a part of her still held onto that disappointment despite her own believe in it being an overreaction on her part.
Of course this was an issue…
He—who had avoided being direct towards her—was now put off by the directness of others.
The thought was enough to spark the small flame smoldering in her chest, despite her attempt to muffle it in the face of their mending relationship.
She had turned to face Makoto rather quickly, catching the boy off guard. Her expression had shifted back to a more neutral display. Before she could even process her own words, they had already been spoken rather quickly.
“Do you expect me to hesitate or fumble for something to say?” She replied flatly, expression evenly maintained—save for the slight frown on her lips. “You’re so high maintenance…”
It was a rather short-sighted comment on her end, though Kyoko had initially deemed it to be harmless enough. Makoto’s initial reaction to it had seemed to confirm her suspicions as well, since he didn’t seem to react too strongly to her words.
It wasn’t the kindest response, but it shouldn’t be enough to change much…
The following morning had seemingly begun like any other… or at the very least, as close to that as she and the remaining students could get regarding their current predicament.
Although the current tension that had arisen between the remaining survivors was not ideal—largely thanks to the interference of Monokuma in Sakura’s reputation—the dining hall was somewhat peaceful.
Kyoko had barely taken her seat at the table she had always sat at when Makoto had entered.
As always, he greeted everyone with his characteristically optimistic smile, something that she knew was quite welcome at this time. It was one of his strong suits after all.
“Good morning, everyone,” he announced—earning himself a few replies from his classmates despite the tension and a scoff from the heir of a certain family.
And then, his gaze briefly met Kyoko’s—his smile never fading.
“Good morning, Kirigiri,” he said.
His tone was perfectly polite.
Yet, perfectly distant in a way that was not Makoto.
And it was then—that Kyoko knew that something was wrong.
Before she could even respond, Makoto had stepped away from her—making his way towards another table, seating himself with the Togami heir.
Most notably, he did not seat himself beside her.
At the sight of everything she had just witnessed, Kyoko’s mind had begun to spur with a number of different ideas.
Was she imagining things? Did Makoto, the affectionate and socialite, just give her the cold shoulder? But… was such an exchange truly enough to form such a conclusion?
Midway through her thoughts, Kyoko immediately noticed that she was under the scrutinizing gaze of another—her eyes quickly flickering in the direction of Asahina, who immediately flinched at the sight of her ashen irises.
“Is something the matter?” She questioned with a more expressive frown then she meant to display.
The swimmer immediately averted her gaze, uttering a quick “nothing!” as a response.
Kyoko narrowed her eyes, as they refocused back onto the back of a green hoodie.
It was clearly, not nothing.
Ever since that morning, Kyoko had noticed that a pattern had started to form in regards to Makoto—… Naegi’s behavior.
Whenever they would cross paths, Naegi would always remain uncharacteristically polite.
It wasn’t as though Naegi wasn’t the amicable sort—far from it, as he always attempted to appease everyone as best he could—but it was becoming clear to the lavender-haired girl that it was a very professional form of kindness that he was showing her.
He always attempted to remain courteous, answering any of her questions (pertaining to the school—she was not deft enough to breach the topic so brazenly… or perhaps she was too nervous to attempt so just yet), offering her greetings (polite waves, polite expressions… addressing her by her last name… completely dropping the nickname he gave her, Kiri). He even continued to assist her when it came to her investigation efforts into the mastermind and their situation (though, he now rarely offered his own opinions or thoughts).
Something had clearly changed, Kyoko was keeping track of every little thing that had differed in her mind. It was clear that this was not a momentary mood swing.
The casual familiarity and warmth that she had grown attached to between them had disappeared in the span of a few days, instead replaced by an odd kindness that felt hollow in comparison.
Conversations between the two perhaps remained mostly similar to what they were like before, but she couldn't help but feel as though the boy was being unnecessarily careful with his words. Kyoko herself had no idea just how to navigate their current predicament either.
More concerningly, Naegi appeared to be actively avoiding situations where the two would be alone together that did not involve her actively addressing him in.
The Naegi who would normally have used such an opportunity to offer her some kind of present as a sign of affection…
She had first noticed it when she had entered the library, with Makoto—giving her cloudy smile and wave—immediately selecting a different aisle that he had not previously shown interest in.
Kyoko stood motionless, despondently staring a hole into the back of that same familiar green hoodie.
There… was no logical explanation for this undesirable behavior.
By the third day of enduring this constant behavior, Kyoko had realized that she had grown irritated.
Not because Naegi wasn’t engaging with her like they used to—that specifically was upsetting her, different from irritation (that would be a ridiculous thing to be irritated over, she swears. People were free to spend their time however they wish).
What truly irritated her, though, was the uncertainty that this created. Kyoko, the Ultimate… something, could not identify what the problem was.
And if there was one thing that Kyoko didn’t like, it was not being able to identify a problem.
Especially when she was fairly certain that she had caused it.
A hand unconsciously made its way to her forehead.
She could feel the headache that this entire situation was giving her beginning to take its toll as her brows furrowed in irritation, her heart panging in a way that confused her.
Logically, this should not be a problem for her. It wasn’t as though this was the first time that there was a wedge between the two of them. During that period of distrust, it wasn’t uncommon for her to constantly turn Naegi down whenever he tried to hang out with her… so why did this feel so different?
Later that afternoon, Kyoko had resolved to interrogate Naegi head on.
When she had initially approached the brunette, he immediately stiffened at the sight of her—though he didn’t completely refuse eye contact with her.
“Good afternoon, Kirigiri,” he responded with a small smile—before walking past her without another word.
Kyoko herself, however, was not one to be deterred so easily.
“…”
Rather than call him out directly, she had decided that the only way to properly confirm her hypothesis was to test certain limits.
So, she simply turned and followed in the direction of the Naegi.
He must have heard the sound of her following closely behind him, for there would be no other explanation for what occurred next—the brunette then, what she considered to be comical efficiency, attempted to make a subtle escape from her.
Kyoko had merely slowed her pace to a purposeful gait, and Naegi—who was clearly headed in the direction of the rec room—was suddenly struck with a new purpose in life, as he attempted to swerve in the opposite direction in the least suspicious manner that he could.
Or… as unassuming as a complete one hundred and eighty degree rotation could seem.
Her eyes narrowed, more puzzled than hurt by the illogical behavior. There could only be so few reasons why someone would abandon their destination at the sight of another.
She followed him without hesitation.
Though, she mentally begged that none of the other students would witness the extremely suspicious sight of whatever the two of them were engaged in just now.
What resulted was she could only call a chase, with the Ultimate Lucky Student constantly attempting to look over his shoulder in as unassuming a manner as possible—only to find the girl he was avoiding following closely behind him at every step.
Even when he attempted to move to another floor Kyoko was right on his heel, and when he tried to lose her through the use of one of the empty classrooms, he carefully peered through the door—only to see the lavender-haired girl, arms crossed as she quietly watched him.
The two remained motionless as Kyoko continued to stare at him, with the boy slowly stepping out of the room without much resistance.
“Kirigiri…” he added quietly with a nervous, unassuming smile, the realization dawning on his face that Kyoko would be willing to stand here for however long it took to confront him.
She couldn’t help but notice the way he continued to address her in that same, professional tone.
“Naegi,” she responded in kind.
The way she addressed him caused a slight wince on his face—perhaps due to him not adjusted to being on the receiving end of this name change—before he defeatedly responded back.
“Did… you need something?” He inquired, with that same careful distance that she was uncomfortably growing accustomed to.
She immediately disliked it.
“Yes,” she replied.
Kyoko’s eyes narrowed, shifting away nervously as she had an internal turmoil over how to structure her approach—she, who was never one to mince her words.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” she finally settled on.
Naegi’s eye twitched as he continued to wear that bashful expression on his face—though the way he carried himself made it clear to her that it was a far cry from how he normally wore his emotions so visibly.
“I really haven’t,” he initially tried to deny.
The weak excuse caused Kyoko to pinch the bridge of her brows. “You attempted to flee through an empty classroom, and changed your direction on three separate occasions.”
Her light interrogation was enough to earn herself a sputter out of the boy, who waved his hands weakly. “I-I didn’t flee!”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Then, would you prefer the term—speed-walking?”
At her reply, the brunette scratched the back of head—glancing away from her. “…Okay, maybe fleeing sounds a bit better…”
The ease of his admission helped to alleviate some of the tension in the air, allowing her to more easily let out a calming sigh. “You also nearly walked into a wall.”
Naegi rubbed the back of his neck, and for a moment, it had looked as though he returned to his normal disposition.
That comfortable awkwardness that she had grown used to.
Unfortunately, it had disappeared just as quickly.
“Was… that all you wanted to ask?”
“No,” response left her lips immediately, a frown on her face.
In truth, Kyoko had not fully considered how she intended to approach this conversation beyond that point. She had been so focused on cornering Naegi long enough to force a discussion that she had neglected to formulate a proper line of questioning.
An amateur mistake.
Fortunately, unlike the rest of her investigations, the subject in question was unlikely to completely avoid divulging the truth of the situation.
Her gaze shifted towards the brunette. “I want to know what the problem is.”
Naegi's posture immediately stiffened. Most people likely wouldn't have noticed it, but Kyoko did.
He tilted in his head in her direction with a shy smile. “I guess I wasn’t very convincing…”
“You certainly do not have a strong poker face,” she responded with a light smile of her own.
The response was immediate, as Naegi pointed toward himself with lighthearted goofiness.
“Whatever it is, I think it would be preferable for the two of us to discuss it,” she added politely, hoping that would be enough to deter him from attempting to hide any more information.
“Well… you already know something’s wrong,” he replied with a chuckle, crossing his arms as his gaze struggled to focus on her. “So… if I say nothing’s wrong, it will feel like I’m lying to you.”
She merely hummed in response to his words—not objecting to the truth within them, though remaining silent as she attempted to identify where to go from here.
He certainly wasn’t wrong. Naegi was not a convincing liar, especially not to her.
Kyoko had opened her lips, perhaps a kind of sensible reassurance that would make him more comfortable speaking, yet nothing but dead air escaped her as she remained silent.
Perhaps it was that uncomfortable silence that settled between them which made it so difficult. It was different from the kind of silence that she indulged in whenever she was around him, with the air feeling more unnaturally charged than usual.
Eventually, the boy let out a quiet laugh, the sound of his voice enough to slightly elevate that weight—but it just as quickly replaced it with another.
“Sorry for being so difficult lately...”
The sudden apology immediately put Kyoko off balance. There was something in the way he said it that bothered her.
The response felt oddly hollow. Like it was simply an agreement offered for the sake of ending their conversation, rather than continuing it.
Kyoko frowned. “Naegi.”
“K-Kirigiri?”
Her eyes softened as she spoke. “Talk to me.”
The request sounded much quieter than she intended it to be.
Immediately, she stiffened at the sight of Naegi's widened eyes.
It was no surprise to her that he had noticed it too.
Unfortunately, the moment passed too quickly, and the conflicted expression that had appeared on his face remained.
If anything, it perhaps had deepened.
Naegi seemed to hesitate, choosing his next words very carefully. It was a behavior she had come to associate with him whenever he was worried about hurting someone's feelings. Ironically, that observation only further reinforced her belief that he was upset.
“Asking questions like that isn't really fair, Kirigiri.”
Kyoko's brows furrowed. “Fair?”
“Yeah,” he added with a sense of finality.
“I fail to see how.”
The brunette subtly glanced back at her, his cheeks just barely brighter than before. “It’s just… when you ask like that, I feel like I can’t say no.”
The response came so quickly that Naegi appeared surprised by his own answer. Then, he immediately looked away, with a faint grimace crossing his features.
Kyoko found herself growing increasingly frustrated. Not with Naegi—she was not that stupid—but rather herself..
She possessed every observable symptom: the way Naegi's behavior altered, his avoidance and carefully measured speech, and the way that he insisted that nothing was wrong.
The conclusion should have been obvious. Yet the cause remained stubbornly absent.
She disliked her incomplete deduction, the way that it made her feel so incompetent.
It was an infuriating experience.
“As I said before,” Naegi finally spoke again. “I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting.”
“Naegi… you’re clearly upset about something.”
“It's really not that big of a deal—“
“It is,” she cut him off, with more emotion than she intended to show—the suddenness of her words was enough to stun him momentarily.
“It isn't,” he replied quickly, shrinking back at the sight of her rare emotions.
Seeing him retreat further only reinforced her conclusion that something was fundamentally wrong.
Whatever she was doing, it wasn’t helping.
“You really don't let anything get past you, huh?”
“No.”
“I know.”
The response came so naturally that it almost sounded fond.
The realization caused Kyoko to pause, not immediately registering the way her fingers curled around her sleeves—only made apparent by the tightening pressure around her arms.
Fortunately, Naegi appeared too distracted to notice.
“Then explain,” she demanded.
The boy stared at her, with Kyoko staring back.
She watched his expression gradually shift through several emotions as his eyebrows furrowed—the boy seemingly lost in thought for a moment. As his eyes turned back to her, however, there was a hint of concern in his gaze.
Concern not for himself, but for her—as though he was trying to be especially considerate with his answer.
“Naegi?”
The brunette folded his arms, unable to meet her gaze any longer. “I was trying not to bother you, but….”
Kyoko blinked. The answer was so sudden that she briefly wondered if she had misheard him. “But?”
His gaze finally lifted to meet hers.
“It’s just… I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said.”
Naegi paused for a moment longer, a finger rubbing his cheek as he gave her an almost embarrassed—self-deprecating smile.
“What you said about me being high-maintenance…”
The words pierced through her like a bullet, as her own voice echoed through her mind like the sound of glass breaking.
Of course… that conversation—what she said in the heat of the moment.
Every strange behavior she had meticulously catalogued over the past several days suddenly aligned into a single, coherent conclusion.
Like the final piece of a puzzle snapping into place to paint an ugly picture.
Because this entire time—Naegi had been upset about that…
She had told him previously that the earnestness of his emotions would lead to someone taking advantage of them and hurting him in a way he would not be prepared for.
But, Kyoko hadn’t expected that she’d be the one to do it.
And, unfortunately, Naegi noticed almost immediately. The moment he did, his expression immediately sank.
His hands immediately reached towards her, the gesture obviously reassuring as he attempted to shine an optimistic smile. “I know you probably didn’t mean it that way—it was my fault for making this situation worse.”
“Makoto…I—…” she sputtered, the words escaping her lips before she could even process them as an ugly grimace formed on her face.
Her brain attempted to find the right words for this situation, a scenario that she was so entirely unprepared for and completely out of her element.
An awkward silence had followed, before Kyoko immediately pulled away from him.
“K-Kiri?” He stuttered, the brunette stared at her expectantly as a droplet of sweat dripped down his face.
Yet, Kyoko had no idea how to elaborate.
For perhaps the first time since she had begun this conversation, she found herself completely at a loss for words.
A deeply unpleasant sensation.
It was one she would have preferred never experiencing again.
“I’m… sorry, I need some time to think. Goodbye.”
The realization had come too suddenly, and she now understood the problem. The solution, however, remained frustratingly out of reach—for she was someone who was not accustomed to her emotions in this kind of situation.
It was Makoto who had initially tried to flee, but Kyoko herself would be the one to retreat despondently from their encounter.
And with the deeply uncomfortable realization that she had somehow managed to hurt the one person whose opinion mattered most to her.
Kyoko was unfamiliar with this sort of helplessness.
She was used to uncertainty in the context of investigations, of clues, of people who lied and motives that had yet to be fully uncovered (though she could not fully determine just where this instinct originated from).
This, however, was different.
It was a personal matter—something she could not displace or detach herself from.
And more annoyingly still, it was because of something she herself had said.
For several moments, she remained where she was, her expression unreadable to anyone passing by—though no one did.
Eventually, with an internal sigh that barely reflected the tension coursing through her body, Kyoko turned on her heel and began walking.
She initially marched ahead with no destination in mind, her feet carrying her somewhere without much conscious direction in the pursuit of a purposeless goal. It was only after she rounded the corner and spotted the familiar figure of Asahina Asahina that she came to a stop.
The swimmer was seated in one of the common room chairs, idly fiddling with the edge of her sleeve before looking up in surprise at the sight of Kyoko approaching.
“Uh…” Asahina blinked, straightening slightly as though she was unsure if the person standing before her was who she thought it was. “Hey?”
Kyoko hesitated for a brief moment—before deciding to seize upon an opportunity.
This, too, was unfamiliar for her.
“I need advice,” she said at last.
Asahina continued to stare at her, as though she still believed that it was, in fact, not Kyoko.
The silence that followed felt so profound that Kyoko briefly wondered if she had somehow spoken incomprehensibly. Did she need to speak once more?
Then, very suddenly, Asahina’s face relaxed—an apologetic expression settling onto her face. “Sorry, I was just a bit surprised.”
Kyoko’s brows knitted together. “W-What?”
“You came to me for advice?”
Assuming that this was most likely a sign of approval, Kyoko took the seat beside her. “I… fail to see why that is so surprising.”
The other girl gave her an incredulous look. “No offense, Kirigiri, but you look like you’d rather jump out a window than ask anybody for help.”
“Why on earth would I do that?”
“I didn’t mean it literally! Nevermind...”
Kyoko did not respond to that, though the back and forth seemed to amuse the brunette.
“Well,” she said after a moment, leaning forward with an expression that made Kyoko immediately regret her decision. Not necessarily one of intense intrigue, but rather a look that held an emotional intelligence that she wasn’t sure if she was ready for. “What is it?” Asahina finally responded.
She found it surprising that the girl was willing to offer her such time, though Kyoko supposed that she herself was one of the few people as of current that Asahina didn’t have feelings against.
Kyoko looked away. It took more effort than it should have to form the words. “Naegi is… upset with me.”
Asahina nodded sagely in response, something dawning on her. “I see… is this about the whole ‘high-maintenance’ thing?”
Kyoko’s gaze snapped back to her, causing Asahina to wince.
“Who—… Naegi?”
“Yea, sorry,” she said quickly, holding up her hands. “He told me about it.”
Kyoko felt her shoulders tense, as she pressed a finger against her temple. “I see.”
“Yeah. I mean… it’s kind of hard not to notice,” Asahina added, tilting her head in thought as a sly smile appeared on her face. “Even Togami noticed, said something about the two you needing to ‘get a room.’”
Kyoko felt blood rushing to her cheeks at the last comment. “E-Enough… I think I understand the greater picture.
Her reaction caused the swimmer to start chuckling to herself. “As much as I can’t stand that guy’s guts right now, he had a point. So,” Asahina continued, folding her arms, “what exactly did you say to him?”
Kyoko paused. The way Asahina looked at her at that moment was far too knowing for comfort.
“I told him,” she said carefully, “that he was high maintenance.”
Asahina stared, her eyes comically wide as if she heard the most disbelieving thing yet.
“I was thinking that you might’ve said it differently—but you actually just said it like that?!”
Kyoko frowned. “W-Was it really that bad?”
“I mean, Kyoko.” Asahina covered her face in her hands for a moment, before peaking through her fingers. “You really said that to him?”
“I-It was just an observation… spurred by a bit of anger.”
“Kyoko.”
There was a long pause as Asahina tried to gather her thoughts, the lavender-haired girl feeling thankful that she did not pry too deeply into whatever else was motivating her initial comment.
Then Asahina slowly lowered her hands, looking at her with a mixture of pity and disbelief. “You basically told the nicest guy in the school that he was difficult.”
Kyoko stared back. “That is not what I said.”
“I mean, it is, actually.”
Kyoko’s expression darkened, causing Asahina to immediately cough into her fist in an atttempt—and subsequent failure—to suppress her laughter.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said, still clearly amused. “I just—wow. No wonder he got so quiet.”
Kyoko said nothing.
The silence was enough to prompt Asahina to straighten, her expression softening in a way that was suddenly much more familiar.
“You didn’t mean it like that, though, right?”
Kyoko looked down. “No,” she admitted quietly. “I did not.”
Asahina blinked, clearly surprised by the honesty.
Kyoko continued, her voice growing more controlled as she tried to dissect the situation logically. “I was irritated. He challenged my wording after avoiding directness himself, and I responded without thinking.”
Asahina listened carefully, though there was still a small, gentle smile on her face.
“Okay,” she said. “That makes sense.”
“It does?”
“Yeah. But…” She hesitated, glancing aside for a moment. “Even if you didn’t mean it, I think he still took it pretty hard.”
Kyoko already knew that, but hearing it confirmed did not improve matters.
Asahina leaned back in her chair, tapping a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “You know,” she said after a moment, “I gave him advice once.”
Kyoko’s eyes shifted toward her. “And what kind of advice was that?”
Asahina scratched the back of her neck, looking suddenly a little embarrassed. “Well… I told him that if he wanted any chance with someone like you, he’d probably need to show a little backbone.”
Kyoko blinked.
The swimmer immediately raised both hands. “In my defense, I thought it was good advice at the time!”
“That explains a great deal.”
“Hey!”
Kyoko watched as Asahina puffed out her cheeks in mild offense, then deflated just as quickly.
“I mean,” she continued, “I was trying to help. He’s kind of the type to back down if he thinks he’s being annoying, and you’re… well.” She glanced at Kyoko, giving her a silent—indecipherable hand gesture that only served to confuse her more.
“That is a vague non-answer.”
“I just meant that you can be really intimidating.”
Kyoko leaned back, satisfied with the honesty. It was something she wouldn’t deny about her own character. Asahina seemed to take that as confirmation of something, because her expression suddenly became far more compassionate.
“But, honestly?” she said. “It seems like he was trying to stay out of your way.”
Kyoko looked back up, evident shame visible on her face. “How so?”
Asahina smiled faintly, this time with a softness that felt strangely earnest.
“I don’t really think that Makoto is the kind of person who would do this just to prove a point or upset you. I think he’d do it because he cares enough to be hurt by something.” She tilted her head. “Which means he probably only got so upset because it mattered to him.”
Kyoko’s chest tightened. That was, unfortunately, exactly what she had been afraid of hearing.
Asahina continued, her tone growing quieter now. “You know what Sakura would do?”
Kyoko didn’t answer immediately, though the question made her attention sharpen.
“Whenever Sakura thought she’d hurt me.” Asahina’s smile turned a little wistful. “She’d make sure I knew she understood why I was upset first. Then she’d explain herself after.”
Kyoko was quiet for a moment. “It was not my intention to be cruel,” she said at last, quietly.
“I know.” Asahina nodded. “But with Makoto, you probably need to really make that clear.” Then she thought about it a moment longer, “I think he’d usually get that but things are different this time.”
Kyoko’s brows furrowed.
Asahina leaned forward a little, emphasizing each word with gentle certainty. “He’s the kind of person who’ll carry around a bad feeling if he thinks he deserves it. So if you care about him, you should tell him you didn’t mean to make him feel like a burden.”
Kyoko did not answer right away. Asahina watched her for a moment, before offering a small shrug.
“You don’t have to do it exactly according to my advice,” she added quickly. “I just thought that myself and Sakura would be a good example for you and Makoto because… y’know,” Asahina trailed off, a bit of pink dusting her cheeks at the comparison. Her expression softened as she had continued to linger on something that Kyoko believed she might be able to understand between the two of them. “Just… be honest.”
Kyoko lowered her gaze. That was, perhaps, the one part of all of this she had been unintentionally avoiding.
It was one thing to investigate the truth. It was another to admit to it.
“I understand,” she said quietly.
Asahina smiled. “Good.”
Then, after a beat, she added with a little more mischief, “If someone were high maintenance, would that be a problem?”
Kyoko blinked, before answering earnestly without much thought. “Not if you actually care about them.”
As the words left her lips, she looked away before the warmth climbing into her face could become too obvious.
Asahina’s grin turned positively mischievous. “Oh my gosh, you do like him.”
“I did not say that,” she replied as her eyebrows furrowed into a dishonest scowl—though the redness surrounding her face told the truth she attempted to conceal.
Kyoko stood up as Asahina continued to laugh.
“Good luck, Kirigiri!”
“I did not request luck.”
“Yea, I guess you wouldn’t need it considering who you’re going to see…” Before she left, however, Asahina spoke once more. “It’s… not easy for me to get along with everyone else right now… but… I don’t want to see the same between you and Makoto…”
Kyoko spared her one last glance before turning away, though the intention behind the girl’s words was not lost on her.
Makoto had never truly been difficult to understand. If anything—he had worn his heart more openly than anyone else she had known.
The difficult part… had been attempting to decipher why seeing it so withdrawn hurt her so profoundly.
The walk back felt longer than it should have.
Kyoko was aware of the exact distance between her starting point and final destination. She had even begun to measure it internally now, as though that would account for the internal discrepancy. There shouldn’t be any kind of architecture changes by Monokuma that would account for the increasing sense of weight with every step.
And yet—
Speaking of the bear…
Kyoko had not expected to encounter Monokuma on the way to Naegi's room.
Yet there he was.
The bear was seated cross-legged in the middle of the hallway as though he had been waiting specifically for her arrival. Upon noticing her approach, his red eye immediately lit up with excitement.
"Oho?" he hummed. "Well, if it isn't Miss Kirigiri!"
Kyoko didn't slow her pace. "Leave.”
"What a cold greeting!" Monokuma protested, springing to his feet with an almost cartoonish spin. "And here I thought you were heading somewhere important."
The emphasis he placed on the last word filled her body with a sickly feeling. Unfortunately, that only seemed to encourage him.
The bear began trotting alongside her. "So?" he asked. "Making a late-night visit to Naegi's room?"
"No."
Monokuma blinked, turning his head to the side slightly. "No?~”
"I am making a visit to Naegi's room," Kyoko clarified, hoping this would be enough to satisfy their ‘headmaster.’ "The implication you are attempting to attach to it is incorrect."
The bear stared at her for a moment. Then he burst into laughter.
"Puhuhuhuhuhu! Ahahahaha! That's even worse!"
Kyoko resisted the urge to kick him. "You seem… unusually invested in this."
"Of course I am!" Monokuma replied, throwing his paws into the air. "Do you have any idea how boring the atmosphere around here has been lately? Everybody's all gloomy and suspicious and depressed. It's terrible!"
"You created those circumstances, thanks to your most recent motive,” Kyoko added with irritation, thinking upon their classmate’s unfortunate standing within their group now.
"Details, details,” The bear waved dismissively. Then he suddenly leaned forward. "Besides..." he sing-songed. "I've been watching you two all this time. It’s amazing how two smart people can be SOOOO dumb!”
Kyoko immediately stopped walking. Monokuma’s permanent grin almost seemed to widen at her reaction. The expression alone made her regret acknowledging him.
"You've been staring at Naegi sooo much lately."
"It was to resolve a misunderstanding."
"Ohoho! Is that what we're calling it now?"
Kyoko's eyes twitched.
The bear's eyes seemed to gleam even brighter at each reaction he earned from her.
"Meanwhile, Naegi's been walking around like somebody kicked a puppy,” Monokuma added with a downcast and gloomy expression. “Honestly… it's been pretty pathetic."
A strange, uncomfortable feeling settled in Kyoko's chest. The idea of Makoto spending the last several days like that caused an unfamiliar tightness beneath her ribs. She had wanted to shield him from the conversation.
"Then you should find another source of entertainment."
"No way!"
Monokuma pointed dramatically at the dormitory door. "The tension! The drama! The emotional vulnerability!"
The bear shuddered theatrically, his face darkening as the red in his eye shone brightly with a darkness that she knew all too well.
"The despair!… Oh! I can practically taste it!"
Kyoko stared at him, her eyebrows furrowing before offering him a determined glare.
“No, that’s wrong.”
The bear offered her a dramatic gasp. "...What?"
“Things won’t go the way you assume,” she added—attempting to end the conversation abruptly to not entertain the bear’s theatrics.
However, the admission didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. Instead, he resumed grinning as Kyoko finally arrived outside Makoto's room. The moment she stopped in front of the familiar door, Monokuma's excitement somehow increased—laughing maniacally in an unsettling way.
“Meh, whatever! You talk-the-talk but can you walk-the-walk?” The monochromatic bear added with an eerie enthusiasm. “Oh! The thrills! Chills! Kills!”
The lavender-haired girl gave the bear a look of disgust as he jittered excitedly next to her. “Is this truly that intriguing to you?”
Monokuma snickered as she prepared to knock on the door. “You kidding? This is way more exciting than the previous class trial!”
Kyoko turned away without giving him a second thought, hearing the sound of his disappearance to… wherever he always goes.
She finally turned her attention back to the door—where her hand was raised in preparation.
She could feel the hesitation in her body, but she did not let that stop her.
The sound echoed too loudly in the quiet corridor, though it was not loud enough to replace the sound of her heartbeat drumming in her ears.
For a moment, there was nothing.
She almost considered if things would be easier for her if nothing occurred from this.
Before she could fully entertain the thought, the door opened just enough for Makoto to peek out. His hair was messier than when she saw him last, with clear redness under his eyes.
He froze when he saw her. “Kirigiri…” His voice was careful again, polite and guarded as it had been recently.
Kyoko frowned slightly. “I would like to speak with you,” she said.
Makoto blinked.
“…Okay.”
There was a beat where neither moved, the two silently staring into each other’s eyes for a few lingering moments.
Until Kyoko let out an audible cough into her gloved hand.
Makoto’s face flushed as he opened the door wider and stepped aside.
“Uh. Yeah. Come in.”
Kyoko accepted the invitation.
His room was, predictably, simple. About the same as every other one of their dorms, and one she had visibly observed on several occasions. This time however, it was noticeably more cluttered in a way that suggested someone who lacked their usual energy to clean up the room.
The thought made her frown.
If the boy himself was embarrassed by the state of the room, he did not make it apparent.
Makoto hovered awkwardly near the door, as if he was unsure what he should do.
Kyoko decided that he should make that decision for him. She sat on the edge of his bed.
Makoto visibly startled.
“O-Oh,” he said, then quickly sat down at the same end as her, though leaving a very deliberate gap between them.
The silence that followed was immediate and heavy.
Kyoko studied him for a moment.
His posture was stiff, almost rigid. Not unlike how he had been the past few days—but now it felt less like it was due to him trying to avoid her and more like it was thanks to his uncertainty. Like he was waiting for something he did not trust to arrive.
She spoke first.
“I understand why you were upset.”
Makoto blinked. “...Oh.”
Kyoko continued, carefully. “My comment was insensitive. It… carried implications I did not intend. I should not have spoken without considering how it would make you feel.”
Makoto stared at her. “That sounds like a formal apology,” he said slowly.
“It is,” she added quietly..
Makoto looked down at his hands with a shy expression.
“…You really don’t have to talk like that, you know.”
Kyoko tilted her head slightly. She adjusted her posture slightly, as if recalibrating. “I did not intend to intimidate you.”
“I know that too.” Makoto gave a small, awkward laugh. “I do think you can be a bit intimidating, but I don’t think you meant it like that.”
Kyoko accepted this with silent consideration.
Then, more quietly, she added, “I also did not intend to imply that you were a burden.”
That finally made him look up. His expression shifted—something between surprise and discomfort. “…Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I figured.”
Then, almost reluctantly, he added, “but it still kinda felt like that.”
Kyoko’s gaze sharpened slightly, but not in her usual investigative way. It was not done in an attempt to prod, but instead to be more careful.
“I see.”
Makoto shifted slightly on the bed. “I think… I just got too absorbed in my own thoughts to be honest,” he admitted. “You’re always really precise with your words, so when you said it like that, it kinda stung.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“And then I started thinking maybe I am just… difficult, or something. And then I thought maybe I should just give you space so I wouldn’t bother you.”
Kyoko listened without interruption.
That, too, was becoming easier to recognize. The pattern. The self-correction. The way he assumed fault where none had been explicitly assigned.
The way he downplayed his own feelings and self-worth.
Parts of it were familiar, in a way she did not enjoy identifying.
As he finished speaking, Kyoko finally opened her lips—prepared to offer her own mind. “That was unnecessary.”
Makoto blinked. “Huh?”
“You did not need to avoid me just to prevent yourself from being a burden,” she clarified.
“I mean… I guess that was a bit obvious in hindsight,” he said weakly.
“Clearly not,” she added with a light smirk.
Makoto gave a small, defeated sigh, though she was able to earn a faint, tired smile from him.
“Still,” Makoto said, quieter now, “I think I should apologize to you too.”
Kyoko’s eyes narrowed slightly. “For what reason?”
“For… overreacting?”
“That is not a valid reason for an apology.”
Makoto stared at her. “…It kind of feels like one.” He let out a small breath through his nose, almost amused despite himself. “I ended up making things weird between us for a few days.”
Kyoko considered this. “I don’t think that was wrong of you. You reacted to something that caused you discomfort.”
“That… makes it sound worse,” he answered with a grimace.
“Maybe,” she replied with a slight roll of her eyes. “But it is more accurate.”
Makoto groaned softly and leaned back slightly on his hands.
“Makoto.”
“Yes?” He perked up with a slight flush, not expecting her to use his first name.
“I believe I should be the one bearing responsibility.”
Makoto blinked.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“I mean… you didn’t exactly do anything for me to avoid you like that.”
“I did,” Kyoko corrected. “I allowed my words to be interpreted without clarification. I also failed to correct the misunderstanding once it became apparent.”
Makoto frowned slightly. “You don’t have to shoulder the burden of everything, Kiri.”
Kyoko herself felt her cheeks dust in red at the use of the familiar nickname. “Should I not?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “…Okay,” he said. “Then we’re both responsible.”
Kyoko nodded once. “I’ll accept that compromise.”
The room settled into a strange kind of calm—no longer tense, thanks to mutual understanding formed between the two.
Then, Makoto repositioned himself, shifting toward her.
The movement was so unexpected that Kyoko never had the chance to anticipate it, as he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. It completely caught her off guard as she was surrounded by warmth.
Kyoko felt herself freeze.
Her mind, usually quick to interpret and categorize everything, had stalled completely. For a rare, peacefully disorienting moment, there was no explanation that arrived fast enough to keep pace with what was happening.
“…Makoto,” she said, with a fraction of her usual composure intact.
He didn’t offer her an answer, instead just holding on tighter.
And then, quietly—to the point that she had nearly missed it—
“I missed you.”
Something in Kyoko’s expression softened, imperceptibly at first, then more fully as the initial shock began to recede. Her shoulders—which had tensed instinctively—slowly eased.
She did not return the hug immediately, still processing the unexpected contact that she had no desire to lose. After a few moments, her hands lifted, resting lightly against his back.
Makoto’s grip tightened in response, as if that alone confirmed something that was silently understood between the two of them.
Kyoko closed her eyes as she inhaled lightly, the steady rhythm of his breathing slowing. Her head had settled against his hair as he rested in the crook of her neck, the light, airy breaths he let out feeling slightly ticklish against her skin.
The argument that had seemed so important only days ago now felt strangely insignificant. Compared to the quiet relief of knowing he hadn't stopped caring, her stubborn resentment seemed almost childish.
“…You are very persistent,” she said at last, her voice quieter.
A small, muffled laugh came from him. “I get that a lot… sorry.”
“I did not say it was a problem.”
That made him go still for a moment, finally processing the validation that she had been offering him this entire time.
When he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her, his expression was brighter than it had been in days—still tired, most certainly still embarrassed, but unmistakably relieved.
Kyoko felt that same odd warmth bloom in her chest again.
Yet, as if falling back into old habits, she added calmly:
“This entire ordeal further confirmed to me that you are indeed, high-maintenance.”
Makoto blinked.
“…R-Really?”
Kyoko tilted her head slightly. “Yes.”
Then, softer—almost an admission of something warmer beneath the fact—she added:
“But it is not something I mind.”
Makoto stared at her for a moment longer. Then, very slowly, he smiled.
“…Yeah,” he said. “I guess that’s fine.”
Kyoko’s hands remained where they were for a second longer than necessary.
Perhaps she would have to let go at some point—but for now, she didn’t mind joining her companion in having ‘high-maintenance’ needs.
“By the way…” he began after pulling away, slightly scratching the side of his chin as he looked away from her. “…Would it be alright if you stayed a little while longer?”
“…I was right, you truly are high-maintenance.”
“K-Kiri!”
