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danganronpa-21 · 2 years

Text

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

General Warnings: N/A

Fandoms: Danganronpa (Series)

Relationships: Kirigiri Kyouko/Naegi Makoto

Additional Tags: Rainstorm, Secret Crush, Oblivious Kyoko Kirigiri, Sickfic, Fluff, School Days, Pre-Despair, Switching POVs

Word Count: 7804 words

Summary: You know you’re in for a bad day when an unexpected thunderstorm starts to brew. At least, this is what Kyoko thinks. She must have the worst luck in the world, having to go off on a case after class without an umbrella… Only, there seems to be one in her locker? Where did it come from? She could have sworn she didn’t bring one… Sounds like a job for a world-class detective!

Read it on AO3.

Day 3: Storm

To be honest, Makoto is not entirely certain that he’s ever believed in all that Super High School Level Lucky Student stuff.

He knows that Headmaster Kirigiri sure seems to, and that it lets him go to an amazing school where he has a great group of friends, but… it’s always been a finicky thing. One minute he’s having the high point of his life, and the next he’s facedown in the mud covered in chicken feathers while incredibly late for an exam. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. Actually, no, not really — a similar thing did happen once with maple syrup instead of chicken feathers, and he certainly wasn’t facedown in it — but that’s not really a situation he wants to talk about. The point is that his luck is unpredictable. He’s lucky one minute and suffering the next, and there’s no telling how it’s going to affect him any given time.

Earlier today, when Mister Terajima paired him up with Kyoko for a partner project, he thought that he hit the jackpot for sure this time. Not only is the lavender-haired detective one of his dearest friends at the academy, she’s also been his not-so secret crush for the past six months, so he isn’t exactly going to complain about getting to spend extra time with her. Not to mention the bonus of that (incredibly hot) intelligence of hers ensuring that they would pull off an amazing grade he could brag to his parents about! Everything was coming up Naegi…

Until about fifteen minutes later, when Kyoko utters the words:

“The forecast didn’t call for rain today.”

The instant the words leave her mouth, his eyes drift up from their project brainstorming, tracing the line of her gaze to the condensation-stained window. As his eyes meet with the aggravating sight of a soggy spring day, he asks himself what he was expecting, given that she did just declare that it is raining. It would have been easy to just take her word for it, and yet when he sees it for himself, he can’t help but heave a heavy sigh.

“Well that’s kind of a bummer.” He mutters, brows furrowing as he tries to recall whether or not he packed an umbrella. He’s about 98% sure he did, but that’s mostly because he keeps it with him nine times out of ten, just in case of emergencies. “Looks like it’s raining pretty hard, too.”

Kyoko hums thoughtfully in reply, the corners of her mouth tugging into a frown.. “Indeed. Not a great day for having a case to go to after class, I suppose.”

A pang of sympathy stabs his heart. It is true that it would be unpleasant for him to have to walk home in the rain, but he would surely survive. If she has to leave on a case, then her day will surely be more difficult. Who knows how far she will have to go? Can she take public transit to get where she’s going? Even if she can, the nearest train station to Hope’s Peak still permits her to get sufficiently wet, so it isn’t like she can exactly avoid the onslaught.

“Y-yeah, that does suck. Way worse than what I’d have to be dealing with,” he says before he quickly adds, “But we don’t know for sure if this rain will stay, right? Maybe it’ll clear up before the end of the day. Sometimes it needs to just get rid of all of that cloud build-up, and then it’ll be good to go!”

He counts it as a victory that a smile plays at her lips, even if it is brief and shy. It’s always hard to get her to show much emotion at anything, so he will happily take any expression that he can get. “That’s our Naegi-kun,” she sighs, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, “Sometimes I wish I could see the world through your eyes. I’m sure it would seem like a much brighter place.”

Makoto’s shoulders rise and fall as he tries to fight the cherry-red colour that burns the tips of his ears. “It never hurts to have a fresh perspective, I guess. Still, for your sake, I really hope I’m right.”

“I hope you’re right, too. The case isn’t so close to here, and I’m afraid being in the storm won’t be so good for my health. I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t been appropriately keeping up with my sleeping and dieting schedules. The last thing I need is another threat to my immune system.”

He nods in agreement, unsure of whether or not it would be appropriate to scold her. At times she expressed pleasure at him caring about her health, and at others he had been curtly reminded to mind his own business. Caught in between two options, this time he decides it is best to just say nothing. “Well, for now, let’s just choose to believe that the storm will get better with a little bit of time.”

Kyoko leans back in her chair and shakes her head, eyes still fixed on the disappointing scene outside. “I suppose that’s all we can do until the time comes.”

“Right.”

With their conversation concluded, the two turn their attention back to their project, choosing to ignore the pattering rain outside their window. For the rest of the period, they’re able to have a lovely conversation about the analytical themes in Osamu Daizai’s “No Longer Human”, sharing some deep and interesting insights that could keep them chatting for hours… They become so engrossed in their conversation they barely notice as the sky makes a transition, the previously dim light in the sky swallowed by the darkness of an incoming storm, flaring up only when shocks of white strike through the blackened clouds. Contrary to Makoto’s wishes, the storm does not get better. In fact, it seems to have heard his wishes and given him the middle finger, so that's really great for him.

Although in all honesty, he’s pretty sure it’s worse for Kyoko. As Mister Terajima dismisses them for the day, he can see the glimmer of unease in her face. She clearly doesn’t want to walk outside in the storm. He can’t say he blames her. He doesn’t want to do it either. Still, he knows he’s got an advantage over her, and that just makes him feel worse. If he takes his umbrella and braves the storm, he’ll be thinking about her all the way home. Cold, dripping wet Kyoko shivering as she wanders into a crime scene, apologizing profusely for being late and pretending she doesn’t see the sneers of the rich madame who has hired her… it’s not an image he likes. Reflex might have him offer up his umbrella to her, but even if his mother raised a gentleman, the chances of her taking it were next to none. For all of their classmates’ claims that she is cold and uncaring, she would never take away an umbrella from someone who needed it. While this is something that is inherently considerate, it frustrates him to no end as they sling their bags over their shoulders and walk to the door. They’re almost out of it, with Makoto thinking that he might say something to try and lighten her bad mood, when she stops in her tracks.

“Something up?” He asks, turning his head back to look at her before he can get too far.

“I’m fine,” she answers quickly, “I just remembered there was a question I meant to ask Terajima-sensei about the requirements on our partner project.”

An easy smile snakes across his face. “Oh, okay. Want me to come with you?”

To his surprise, she actually shakes her head. “No, I’m alright, I’ll just text you the details. I wouldn’t want to keep you behind, lest the storm get worse.”

His brows knit together, his mouth curving into a frown. “You sure?”

“Yes, don’t worry about it,” she waves him off, “I know you’ll probably prefer being home sooner rather than later.”

“If you’re certain,” he sighs as he shoves his hands into his pockets, “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Kirigiri-san. Good luck with your case.”

“Thank you, Naegi-kun. See you then, and I hope your commute home is drier than it looks.”

Fighting off a laugh at how silly that statement sounded, he spins on his heel and wanders out the door. The sounds of his classmates’ chattering surrounds him as they venture towards their lockers, but he finds himself lost in thought nevertheless. He wishes there was something more that he could do to help Kyoko. He already hates when he can’t help strangers with their issues when they ask, but not assisting his crush just makes his stomach twist. It’s things like these that remind him that his affection for her is completely and totally undeniable. There are a lot of people in the world that he would love to give his help to; however, there is nobody he wants to help with trivial things more than her. If the ground is covered in puddles, he wants to take off his blazer so she can keep her boots safe when she walks through it. If the fast-food restaurant serves her a cheeseburger with pickles when she requests their removal, he wants to (politely) inform the worker so she won’t have to. He wants to cover the bill when she’s hungry, and carry the train when she wears an extravagant gown, and tell her how wonderful she is every day, and hold the umbrella over her head to keep her dry. These are things he wants, things he values having the opportunity to do, but the universe is not allowing him to look out for her and it is totally killing him. And yes, he does recognize that this is a first-world problem that he is lucky to have. Few fools in this world have as much luck as he does in this regard. Even so, this does not make it any easier to stomach. He’s half-way through his internal rant to himself about being an incapable suitor when he’s drawn out of his funk by a collision that nearly knocks him off his feet.

“Ah!” He cries as he stumbles backwards and nearly collides with Chihiro, who has been trailing behind him. In retrospect he should have seen something like this coming, given that he was looking down until about a minute ago, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty. That self-reflection probably doesn’t mean much to the person he ran into, anyways. Or poor Chihiro, for that matter. He’ll have to apologize later.

“Ah, I’m sorry!” A familiar low voice says, the speaker’s voice tinged with only a sliver of surprise. As Makoto lifts his face to his accidental attacker, the flash of a purple suit jacket gives him all of the hints he needs to know — much to his embarrassment. “I hadn’t noticed you there, Naegi-san. I was lost in thought.”

“It’s okay, Headmaster,” he offers pathetically, flashing his crush’s father a sheepish smile in hopes that it will remedy the impression of his idiocy, “I was pretty lost in thought, too.”

He knows better than to expect any emotion in the reply. This is Kyoko’s father, after all, and while the two of them are not peas in a pod… they certainly were raised by the same man. Fuhito Kirigiri’s no-emotions policy has lent itself to a pair of stone-faced descendants. Still, in some way, he takes comfort in the fact that Jin didn’t look too disturbed. If anything, the look on his face was more surprised than genuinely upset.

“I suppose that’s what happens on a day like today. Is there something on your mind that I can help you with?”

I wish, he thought bitterly. This whole Kyoko situation, right down to the current predicament of the rain, would be so much easier if she and Jin were on good terms. Sure, most fathers did not like to see young men pursuing their daughters (how could their little girl grow up so fast?), but if TV had taught him anything, it was that they usually appreciated those who put in the effort to be worthy of their girls. And a gentleman inquiring about umbrellas to keep her dry would certainly be something a father would like, even if it ultimately boiled down to the father giving him the spare umbrella he keeps in case of emergencies. Although perhaps he is swerving a bit too far into sitcom territory for a scenario that wouldn’t come to pass anyway.

With nothing productive to say, he shrugs instead. “I appreciate the offer, sir, but I’m just thinking about how I’m going to get home. It’s uh… pretty wet out there.”

Jin nods, glancing out the nearby window, unperturbed by the students passing in front of his view. “No kidding,” he replies in what Makoto assumes might be a snicker in a non-Kirigiri, “I take it you don’t have an umbrella?”

I do, he almost says.

I do, he almost declares.

I do, he almost claims, and nearly discards the perfect plan.

But then it hits him. It hits him, the perfect plan. The one way he can help Kyoko, and she won’t even have to agree to it. His brain is not perfect by any means, but sometimes, he swears, he must be a genius.

All he has to do is push out a faux sigh and shake his head sadly, and tell the headmaster a little white lie. “Unfortunately. Although you mentioning it actually reminds me…”

Jin’s eyebrows raise questioningly.

“Kyoko actually left her umbrella in our homeroom the last time it rained, and I hoped to give it back to her, but I haven’t had the chance. She’s going out on a case after class so she’ll definitely need it. I don’t have time to stick around to give it to her, because she’s asking Terajima-sensei a question and I uh…”

Quick, excuse! Excuse!

“I promised I’d help my little sister practice her upcoming English presentation, so I need to get home right away. I was wondering, since you can open everyone’s lockers and stuff, if you would slip her umbrella in there for me?”

“Ah.” Jin offers a rare smile, nearly prompting Makoto to release the breath he’s secretly been holding for the past thirty seconds. “Of course. I’d be happy to do that.”

“Thank you so much, sir,” he breathes out in faux-relief, shoving his hands into the pockets of his blazer, “I’m sure Kirigiri-san will really appreciate your help in returning it.”

A bit of regret nips at him when he notices the taller man’s expression turn sad. Guilt pools in his stomach as he curses himself mentally. He knows better than to bring up his relationship with his daughter, especially when the hatred they hold is so one sided. For a split second he wonders if he should apologize, but Jin appears to brush it aside after a moment, gesturing kindly for Makoto to lead the way. “We better get to it, then.”

Their walk is, unsurprisingly, a quiet one. At first he wonders if maybe it’s because Jin feels insulted. After all, if someone had touched a wound as raw as the one between him and Kyoko on Makoto himself, he knows he’d have been a little unhappy too. If there is any animosity, though, the headmaster doesn’t say anything. So over time, his shoulders are able to relax a bit, and he can find it within himself to enjoy the older man’s occasional remarks. It’s not much in terms of conversation; however, he likes to think it’s a victory. You don’t talk to a guy you can’t tolerate, right?

They arrive at the lockers with relative ease, dodging only a few crowds of excitable students. In a way it seems strange that students would be so thrilled about the end of the day when it meant having to clean the school, but he supposes everyone likes the time they get afterwards to hone their talents. Hope’s Peak Academy doesn’t have many clubs due to students having differing interests, but even so, the ones he knows of are well-liked.

“Do you and Kyoko have lockers close to each other?” Jin questions as he glances around the floor, clearly having noticed the stretch of lockers nearby.

Makoto nods and points to the left. “Right over there. Hers is on the far right, further from us, and mine is on the far left.”

With only slight acknowledgement, the other man speeds up his pace, approaching the locker with relative ease. Makoto must admit, he’s relieved to see that there are no straggling classmates hanging around by the lockers. If there were, he’s sure one of them would be on to him. Probably Byakuya or Toko, if he had to place any bets. While other classmates of theirs like Aoi and Sayaka were quite invested in their little “will they, won’t they”, Byakuya and Toko both made a point of teasing them about it. A lot. Especially when it came to him, for they knew his face would light up red like a firework. The lovestruck part of him sure desires his crush’s father’s approval, but the general human being part would be mortified to have it disclosed to her father that he likes her. If he doesn’t know already, that is. Maybe he does.

Pushing the thought aside, he ventures towards his locker, eager to avoid falling behind. After all, he knows how easy it is for Jin to get in wherever he pleases. If he were any more of a troublemaker, it would worry him that all the man had to do was press a couple of buttons on his E-handbook. Sure, it is about the same process for him, but at least it is only his E-handbook that will open his own. As he presses the screen of his handbook against the reader, the door clicks and then pops open. His fingers find the edge of the metal door and work to pry it open; somehow he has already forgotten that it had been sticking this morning.

With a bit of extra work he’s able to maneuver it open, but not without a bit of side-eye from the headmaster. “Do you think I should see someone about fixing that for you, Naegi-san?”

Makoto smiles sheepishly and shrugs his shoulders, his hand waving it off. “Nah, it’s okay. I think it’s just a luck thing. You know how it is.”

You are the only person who actually seems to believe in my luck, after all.

“If you’re certain.”

Dipping his head in confirmation, he turns his head back to the locker, and for the first time he realizes how messy it’s gotten. Yikes. That’s embarrassing. English books here, half-open bento box there, and a backpack open wide with half of the contents spilling out of it. The umbrella must be towards the back, he thinks, and so he plunges his hand as deep in as he can manage. His fingers feel around for the handle for a few seconds before he’s finally able to take hold of it. He yanks on it without a second thought, proceeding to knock his bag out with a whap. Pens and pencils roll out from inside and wander across the hall, and his homework book falls out onto the floor on its half-open face.

Well, at least he got the umbrella out. He can ignore the lack of delighted awe on Jin’s face so long as he has a way to help Kyoko.

“So that’s… Kyoko’s umbrella?”

“Yep, that’s it!” He declares proudly, turning it around in his hand so Jin can take hold of the handle. “It’s been in there for a few days, but it’s definitely hers.”

Jin’s eyes bounce from the umbrella to his face and then back to the umbrella again, and his brows lower themselves. Uh-oh. Makoto’s heart drops into his stomach. Is the headmaster not buying this? He knows he’s not the best liar, but surely this shouldn’t be too hard to believe, right?

“Did you see her come into class with it?”

He suddenly feels quite warm, and hopes he isn’t going to start sweating. It’s hard enough to look the headmaster in the eye, he doesn’t need another tell of his being a liar.

“Err… yeah, I did. Why do you- oh.”

He sees it. The fatal flaw in his plan. The wrench that’s being thrown in it all. He’s come so far, but he’s crumbling now. His stomach squeezes itself into a tight ball. Can he play this one off? If only he had realized it sooner…

How strange it is, to be thwarted by a rainbow umbrella.

“Yes, I thought it was strange as well.” Jin replies. A smirk tugs at the edges of his mouth. It seems a bit reluctant to form, but the younger man is almost certain that it’s there. He’s been had. “It doesn’t seem like the kind of thing she would pick out.”

The mantra he repeated to himself before about excuses does not return. Nothing does, apart from his blank stare for about thirty seconds. No words come to his mind when he speaks, but somehow, they manage to roll off his tongue and right out of his mouth: “I didn’t even notice,” he murmurs softly, “How strange it would look, I mean. She told me she bought it at a discount, at the corner store.”

In fairness, it isn’t completely a lie. The umbrella actually was purchased from a corner store on a discount, just… not by Kyoko. It kind of surprises him how easily he was able to lie about it. Where is that kind of smooth talking when he gets in trouble at home?!

“I see…” Jin hums, tapping his chin for a moment before shrugging it off.. It’s a gosh darn miracle that the man even thought it over, but actually buying it? Relief crashes into Makoto instantaneously. It’s a fight to not exhale his solace, the tension he had been holding in his shoulders only a minute ago melting away. The hit is so strong that he doesn’t even stop to consider that the headmaster actually knows what he’s doing, and is just letting it slide. After all, that camouflaged smug smile hasn’t gone away. “She got caught in the rain on a day like today and bought it then, perhaps?”

“Yeah, exactly that, really!” He laughs, extending his arm for the headmaster to take the device for real. “Seems like a stroke of luck that I must have it for her, then. She was just saying that she didn’t have one.”

Finally, Jin allows himself to grin as he transfers the umbrella to his own grasp. “Perhaps, then, it was meant to be.”

__________________________________________

Could her dad be any more obnoxious?

Deep in her heart, Kyoko knows that the answer is a resounding yes, but she had hoped that they were past the stage where he insists on trying to take care of her. She made it quite clear to him that day they met in his office that she did not want him to consider her a daughter, and yet…! And yet…! Oh, her hands curl into fists every time she remembers it. He couldn’t possibly be so daft as to actually believe that she was just playing hard to get, could he?

Make no mistake, her anger doesn’t mean that she didn’t take the umbrella — in fact, she would readily admit to being grateful to have it — but the fact that it in all likelihood came from her father… Ugh, it makes her blood boil. He should know better than to toy with her like that! Perhaps she’ll have to teach him a lesson sometime.

Hmph. Well, even if she is frustrated, it would be childish of her to denounce the gift completely. In spite of her confusion over why her father owns a rainbow-clad umbrella, the device more than proved its usefulness. Though the storm rumbled and grumbled her whole way to the Manor, and the wind turned many others like it inside out, her little reliable umbrella kept her head dry all the way there. There were a few times she expected it to tear or maybe suck itself in, but much to her surprise, it stayed put. For something of hundred yen-store quality, she found that the quality could not have been better. She arrived at her case on time and fairly dry, which was a good thing, yet she still found herself loathing that this debt could be attributed to her father.

Apparently, others seem to notice it too. She returned from her case about an hour prior, and after drying off, she ran into Sayaka in the hall. She and a few other girls from their class were heading to the common room space to play board games and bake cookies, and she invited Kyoko to come along. She tried to tell them that she wasn’t feeling up to it, and she had some case notes that she needed to work on while the evidence was fresh in her mind. Unfortunately for her, Aoi Asahina was a part of the group, and was not known for her ability to take no for an answer, insisting that hanging out with them would perk her up. So she shook her head in defeat and said she’d be there once she’d finished making some preliminary notes while they were still fresh in her mind.

At the time, the interaction hadn’t seemed like it was going to be much of note, unless of course one wanted to know what she would document in her journal at the end of the day. She had been prepared to almost write it off completely, until Sayaka had so sweetly and innocently pointed to something that should not have been this far beyond her notice. The fact that it ever was is totally embarrassing.

“Oh, hey, Kirigiri-chan,” she giggled, pointing at the soaking wet rainbow in her hand, “Do you and Naegi-kun have matching umbrellas or something?”

She paused for a moment, her eyebrows knitting themselves together. Did they have the same umbrella? She shut her eyes for a moment and pictured within her mind the last time she and Makoto were in the rain together. Details were not so often beyond her notice, but she’d be a liar if she said she didn’t find him a little distracting. Was he holding this the last time they were together? Is it just a coincidence?

“Pssh, I bet you anything that the Herbivore Man gave it over to Kirigiri-chan.” Junko cackled, her hand having raised itself to her mouth to pretend she was hiding her snicker. “He’s such a simp like that. Isn’t that right?”

She hadn’t known how to respond. Junko’s slang only made it worse – what even was a simp? It seemed relevant to the point at hand. Dismissing the strangeness of the fashionista’s speech, she had taken notice of the other girls’ search for recognition in her face. She doubts they had been able to find any at that moment. Realization was settling in, and guilt pooling in her belly, but all she could do was stare blankly at that umbrella. If Makoto did what she thought he did… oh boy, was he in for a stern talking to!

Sayaka took a step forward with her arm outreached, almost as if she wanted to comfort her classmate. “Are you alright, Kirigiri-san?”

She recalled nodding and choosing to avoid the pop idol’s eyes. As much as she likes Sayaka, the girl has a way of getting things out of people, and she already had her fair share of that sort of thing for the day. Besides, with that idea out in the open, she couldn’t help but feel the need to pursue the lead. So instead, she promised she would meet them later and dashed off, planning to later assure them that they hadn’t done anything to hurt her.

And that is how she finds herself where she is now, sitting at her desk with her notebook open in front of her, her cellphone wedged between the pages. Her fingers drum the wooden surface and her leg bounces in an irritating tick. God, she craves answers, but getting them means calling her father, and that’s not something she wants to do right about now. Or ever. But it’s necessary to stop that itch in her brain that cries out for answers, so she knows that sooner or later she’s going to have to lock it down.

Screw it, she thinks. This sucks, but I’m going for it.

In a matter of seconds the phone finds its way into her hands and she dials. For something so trivial, it certainly feels like the most important phone call in the world. Her heart leaps in her chest as she holds the phone to her ear, her fingers still drumming away in her impatience. It doesn’t take all that long for her father to pick up, yet when she finally hears his voice on the other line, it feels as if it has been an eternity.

“Hello, Hope’s Peak Academy Headmaster Jin Kirigiri speaking. What can I do for you?”

“Hi.” She says in what is quite possibly the least friendly voice she has ever conjured, her well of body ticks seeming to run dry at the sound of his voice. “It’s Kyoko. Kyoko Kirigiri.”

She wonders if he knows that she could hear the soft “oh” he let out at the sound of her name. And here she was thinking that the man would be all too delighted. Though she dreaded it in the moments leading up to the call, all of the sudden she somehow feels disappointed that this won’t be the case. Bah, whatever. He has information she needs, pleased reactions could wait.

“Hi, Kyoko. It’s unlike you to call, is something the matter?”

Even though he can’t see her, she shakes her head and purses her lips. “No, not exactly. I just had a question for you about an interaction you had today.”

“Sure. What did you want to ask?”

“Did someone ask you to put an umbrella in my locker today?”

The line goes silent for about thirty seconds. That tells her all she needs to know; however, she would much rather hear it actually coming from her father’s mouth. It isn’t every day that he gets taken in by Makoto for a good deed. “Yes, they did. Why do you ask?”

“Was that someone named Naegi Makoto?”

“It… was, yes. He told me that you were friends, and I have seen you around campus together, so I just assumed that that was-”

“Enough,” she huffs more curtly than anticipated, “I’m not scolding you. I just wanted to know if you put it there on his behalf.”

“... Yes, that was me. I thought about lending you one myself, to be honest, but Naegi-san insisted that he had one that you’d forgotten somewhere. I take it the one we put in your locker wasn’t yours?”

She exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “No, it wasn’t.”

“I thought as much. Your grandfather wouldn’t have you walking around with such a gaudy and inexpensive umbrella. Still, Naegi-san seemed insistent, and his teachers are always talking about how much he loves to help out, so I assumed he wanted to assist you.”

“It does sound like him. Although at first I admit I expected you to have left the umbrella.”

“You… thought it was me?”

Okay. Now she hears the delight. Heat rises in her cheeks at his timbre, and her hands ball into fists. They’re so tight that her fingernails must be imprinting on her palms, yet she won’t find it in herself to care. Why is it so frustrating to hear him express that excitement? It’s like his affection stings.

“I figured you were trying to be annoying,” she grumbles, sharpening her tone at the last word, “Although I imagine relentless is the word that you yourself might favour.”

Her clarification seems to do little to settle his amusement, for she can hear a slight snort on the other side of the call before he replies. Alright, I get it, you love me. “I’m just glad that you know I care enough to be relentless.”

“Shut up.”

Jin snorts more, which only makes Kyoko want to repeat her previous command, but she holds her tongue. If it were her grandfather, she knows he would scold her for being rude to her elder… Even if that elder is the son she never liked.

“Regardless of what we just established, though, Kyoko… Yes, Naegi-san asked me to put the umbrella in your locker under the guise that it was yours. Are you concerned that he gave it up for you?”

Her mouth opens to reply. Nothing comes out but a pathetic gush of air. For a few moments, she can hear her father sitting there waiting, but when she fails to continue, he sounds content to proceed on his own.

“Well, you don’t know for certain that he walked out in the storm by himself. If anything, he might have stayed here until the storm settled. There’s no absence of students here after hours. I’m sure that no matter what became of him, he’s alright. For your own sake, try not to worry so much.”

She swallows hard, like there’s an invisible rock in her throat. It’s a strange sensation, being comforted by her father, yet… she’s not entirely sure that she dislikes it. Her grandfather never comforts her like this. It’s a welcome change. Not that she would ever admit it to him, of course. “... Okay. I will try my best.”

“Glad to hear it. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“... No.”

“Alright then, I will let you get back to your day, then.”

Her fingers start to drum on the table once again, her belly twisting in the most incomprehensible way. She hates this. “Yes, you as well… Thank you for calling.”

She loathes the fact that she can hear his smile when he replies. “You’re quite welcome. Thank you for talking with me too. And I’m sorry about your friend. I hope he got home safely.”

“Right, thanks… See you at school.”

Click!

Hanging her head in defeat, she puts her phone back down on her notebook, and opens her messaging app.

TO: Makoto Naegi

TIME: 6:07 p.m.

Did you make it home through the storm alright?

TO: Makoto Naegi

TIME: 6:09 p.m.

Surprisingly, I did not get as wet as I thought I would. Do you happen to know why that is?

__________________________________________

When Makoto’s eyes peel open Friday morning, it is abundantly clear that he is sick as a dog.

Ugh, the moment the sunlight leaks through his curtains and hits him, it’s all over. Two invisible hammers hit his head on either side of his skull, and his skin is hot and clammy. With every breath that comes too deeply, so too does a dripping nose, and he is wracked with chills that all of his warm blankets can’t seem to soothe. By the time he’s able to get his mother’s attention and get his temperature checked, it stands at a furious thirty-eight degrees celsius.

“Oh, if only you hadn’t forgotten your umbrella,” his mother laments as she presses a kiss to the side of his head, placing the thermometer down on the bedside table, “I’ll call my boss and tell him I can’t come in today. Are you okay if I go for a few minutes to do that?”

He gives her a nod and a weak grin, trying to convince himself to not be so guilty for lying to her about what happened. Just this once, he figures he can keep his altruism from her, and instead be doted on as her poor little baby who made a mistake. Not that she wouldn’t be happy to hear that her son is looking out for others, but… she had given him a few more lectures about being careful not to overextend himself. With his head aching without relief, he’s not interested in risking that lecture again. His mother smiles at him and exits, glancing over her shoulder as he nestles himself further into the covers and shuts his eyes. Maybe he can get some more sleep when his mother returns with headache pills.

It’s not the best situation, having this overall crappy sensation, but at least he can comfort himself with the fact that he helped Kyoko. He hopes she isn’t too lonely without him at her side. In his absence he’s sure Aoi will pick up the slack; however, he can’t help wondering if she’ll still be the one to bring him his missed classwork at the end of the day. He would love to see her again. Although now that he thinks about it, he’ll probably hear it from her when they do reunite.

Ah, well. There are just some things that one does for those they love, and the way he sees it, they are always worth it.

__________________________________________

Much to his delight Kyoko shows up at his front door later that same day, homework in hand, apologizing as profusely as she can to a very confused Mrs. Naegi.

Not that she understands at first, anyway. Apparently her son believed it best if his mother didn’t know the true whereabouts of his umbrella. Probably because he feared being scolded, she wagers. Perhaps she should have considered that before she came charging into their home apologizing, with his homework in one hand and a container of miso soup in the other. She couldn’t help it. Self-condemnation eats away at her every time she so much as thinks about him. The poor thing, all shivering and cold, walking home in a thunderstorm. She’s not the nurturing type, yet something about that image makes her want to bundle him up in something warm. Also maybe smack him upside the head for being too selfless, but the boy is already pretty badly-off, so she discards the concept.

Her heart squeezes a little as Mrs. Naegi guides her up the stairs to Makoto’s room. It’s not the first time she’s visited their house or been in his bedroom, yet something about being there feels different. The Naegis aren’t people who keep many barriers up. It’s not strange by any means for them to let her in. Still, as she raps softly on her friend’s door, she can’t help noticing that her palms are a bit slick with sweat. Heaven knows why. It isn’t as if he is going to be angry with her.

“Come in.” Makoto’s voice croaks gently from the other side of the door, the phrase barely making it out of his mouth before he devolves in a coughing fit. Kyoko glances pitifully over her shoulder at Mrs. Naegi, whose hand is placed over her heart. Neither of them needs to speak to know that they share the same sentiment: poor thing. Exhaling quietly, she turns the door knob and pushes the door open to reveal him. His appearance is about as pathetic as expected.

To Mrs. Naegi’s credit, at least, he appears to be taken care of. A tall glass of water is sitting next to him on his bedside table, paired with a plate housing a few extra headache pills – as well as a few leftover apple slices that are beginning to brown. As for the patient himself, well, he is all tucked up in his blankets like a baby bird in a nest. A wet towel rests on his forehead as he fiddles boredly with a handheld gaming system, his sleepy gaze only flicking up from it when he notices that she’s there. He smiles the moment they lock eyes.

“Kirigiri-san,” he rasps, a glitter of light finding its way into his olive-coloured eyes, “I’m so glad to see you.”

Despite the guilt that nibbles away at her when she sees him like this, she does all she can to return his grin. It’s likely pretty feeble, given that it’s her, but she imagines there is little harm in trying. “I’m glad to see you, too,” she raises her full hands, “I brought your homework. And some soup, as an apology.”

He tilts his head to the side. “What do you have to apologize for?”

“For ever making you think it was okay to sacrifice your umbrella for me.”

Makoto blushes as his gaze shifts quickly to his mother, whom Kyoko doesn’t even have to look at to know that she is giving him a somewhat disapproving look. Something about the way she speaks just makes it so easy for her to hear her pursed lips and folded arms. “Yes, as grateful as I am for Kirigiri-san’s safe arrival at her case, Makoto,” she chides, “You and I will have to talk about that when you’re feeling better, alright?”

He rests his head on the pillow in defeat, his light-hearted expression fading only slightly. “Alright. Thanks, Mom.”

Satisfied with her scolding of her son, Mrs. Naegi dips her head one last time and departs, leaving the two of them alone in Makoto’s room.

“Sorry about that,” Kyoko apologizes, kicking the door shut with her foot, “It was not my intention to uh… rat you out, so to speak. When you didn’t attend class this morning, I knew you had gotten sick, and I felt far too guilty to come in here without apologizing to both you and your family.”

It’s no surprise at all to her that he waves it off, instead imploring her to come further into the room if she pleases. She makes easy work of entering, plunking his schoolwork down on his desk before venturing to his bedside table, where she sets down the soup. “It’s miso,” She declares as if it matters. He looks pleased with that, but doesn’t say anything else.

A brief silence falls over them as she stands at his bedside, taking in the reality of his state. In her heart, though, she knows she doesn’t care that much. If Makoto is willing to get sick for her, then she is more than willing to get sick for him.

“Naegi-kun, about your gesture, I… I truly am sorry about that situation. The umbrella was a wonderful help in getting home in that storm, and I deeply appreciate the sentiment behind it, but I must ask that you not do something like that again.”

“I’m happy that you worry about me, Kiri, but honestly, I’m fine.” He lies. She can see him suppressing a coughing fit. Is he being unconvincing on purpose, or does he lack a sense of irony?

Her teeth cannibalize her lips as she speaks, wondering if her friend can truly be so oblivious to his own misery. “Nothing about this looks fine, Naegi-kun. Do you not notice how ill you are, or are you simply choosing to ignore it?”

“I know I’m sick,” his shoulders rise and fall, “That doesn’t make it not worth it.”

She quirks a brow. “I don’t follow.”

“The way you’re talking. You’re making it sound like it’s not worth getting sick for you. Like I should have just let you go without the umbrella, and let you be the one who gets sick because of it.”

Kyoko’s hands find a home on her hips. “Should I not be concerned with your lack of self-preservation?”

“No, I…” He grins a bit guiltily, looking like a child caught sneaking an extra cookie. It’s a small comfort to her that he’s aware of this. She wishes he might actually handle it. “I think you probably should be a bit worried about that… but what I’m trying to say, though, is that you don’t need to feel guilty. You didn’t know I was sacrificing my umbrella for you, and I’m the one who chose to do it, so it’s not like it’s your fault. And really, both of us are happy – you got to your case drier than you would have otherwise, and I got to help out my friend. Win-win, right?”

Her groaning at the statement is no surprise. They both knew she would do as much. “I fear I might never understand your logic, Naegi-kun. I’m almost wondering if that fever of yours might be clouding your judgement.”

He scoffs, placing the gaming system down on his belly. His tone is wrought with mock indignation. “It’s not that bad. Feel free to check if you want.”

“Fine,” she huffs half-jokingly, “Perhaps I will.”

“Fine.”

With movements as ginger as possible, Kyoko slides the towel off his forehead and places it on the bedside table. Just holding it she could sense the heat it gathered from his skin, but experiencing the sensation for herself would be a different matter altogether. Tucking her hair to one side to keep from tickling his face, she leans down and ever so kindly places her lips against his forehead.

If his fever didn’t make him run hot before, his face is burning like a bonfire now. She swears he must have let out a squeak when her lips met his head, too shocked and embarrassed for words. Is it horrible of her to say that she relishes the reaction? For his sake, she tries not to dwell too long, but the memory is something she’ll hold onto for much longer. His gaze follows her closely as she withdraws, eyes wide, mouth sputtering all kinds of nonsense. Her shoulders rise and fall lazily as she watches him, knowing exactly the question on his mind. It’s a few seconds before he can get it out for himself.

“W-Why didn’t y-you use your h-hands?”

For once she’s proud to raise up her hands. They’re a key part of her triumph. “Gloves. Wouldn’t have been able to feel anything,” she teases, “And I must say, Naegi-kun, you are running just as high as I thought. Maybe I was right about that fever.”

Her teasing doesn’t seem to take effect, only the growing realization that her lips have just been on him. Teenage boys are so easy to embarrass, she snickers to herself. She can’t help but love the way he’s gawking at her, like that’s the craziest thing that’s ever happened to him. So cute and innocent. That’s her Makoto, and she wouldn’t change him for the world.

That doesn’t mean, of course, that she doesn’t consider her little indirect forehead kiss her revenge.

#listen. I know I’m an hour late but if you had a prompt that was double your predicted side and 5 hours worth of lecture and a quiz and an #essay to hand in all in one day… your prompt might be late too! lol. sorry about any spacing issues I wrote it on Google docs and I can #touch em up later if they’re really annoying but hey. I posted it. I’m dead tired rn and I will see y’all tomorrow but I hope you like it!!#love ya thanks for tuning in gang #work is for weenies naegiri is forever #naegiri2021 #naegiri week #naegiri week 2021 #naegiri #Makoto naegi #kyoko kirigiri #naegi x kirigiri

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