Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

How could his life have come to this?

That's a thought that has occurred with concerning frequency as of late. Ten years of being with Kyoko, and yet...

He still remembers that day. The signature he wrote on the form that would then be sent to the government, making them officially married, and making Makoto into a Kirigiri. That was a week ago. And yet, it doesn't feel like much has changed, besides that horrible feeling of entrapment growing even stronger.

That's not to say he doesn't love Kyoko. He does. Maybe not as much as ten years ago, but that love is still there! And it's not going anywhere anytime soon!

Not as long as Kyoko has anything to say about it, that is.

He's bored. Completely and utterly out of his entire goddamn mind, he is so, so, so horribly bored. He wishes that time could speed up, that the day could be over within seconds. He stares at his computer, lost on what to do. Wishing for something to miraculously enter his life and alleviate his boredom, he keeps staring. And staring. Of course, that something to miraculously alleviate his boredom doesn't come. And he can't go outside either, because...

Not only is it almost nighttime, one look out of the window tells him that it's in fact, raining. Even if Kyoko allows it, he wouldn't wanna go in such weather.

He remembers to blink for the first time in minutes. He rubs his eyes, which are probably bloodshot at this point. He rhythmically taps his fingers on the desk, careful to not let his nails hit the wood. His legs stiffen to an uncomfortable degree. As does his entire body. He lifts his arms up, stretching his body.

He should try and turn to Kyoko for any entertainment. That's about the only option left now. He takes a deep breath. It's alright, he thinks. Kyoko is in a good mood today. She's not going to get angry at him. Even as she's currently reading a book, she'll be welcoming his presence. She loves him, after all, and dinner was enjoyable, so he should at least be in her good graces...?

Turning off his computer, he slowly gets off the chair, trying to take small, quiet steps to the bed, upon which Kyoko is lying. He slowly approaches her.

She hasn't noticed him, Makoto thinks. Great. Now, instead of accidentally bringing her attention... he has to do it intentionally. He stares at her, completely invested in her book. He clenches his fist. He has to do this, otherwise he won't get anywhere. But... It just won't come out. He doesn't even speak one word, instead analysing her and her surroundings, making sure he hasn't noticed her... instinctively looking for any possible ways to run or defend himself.

Yeah, no. This isn't happening. Is he passing up a chance to have some fun tonight? Yes. but this... is not something he's going to do. He knows that he's being a coward. Kyoko won't be mad today of all days, yet...

He cautiously steps away from the bed, slowly, steadily returning to the comfort of his chair, even if that comfort is minimal. He makes sure his steps make as little sound as possible. Kyoko can't see his attempt to approach her and disturb her. He briefly contemplates just getting out, before realising that opening the door would just draw her attention. He just slowly sits down on the chair... as if he's trapped in a cage with a hungry beast, having only a wooden plate to defend himself with. He cringes as the chair squeaks from his weight, and turns on his computer again-

"I won't bite."

"Ah...!" He yelps, his body jumping in surprise, his heart momentarily feeling like it has stopped. She... noticed...? He looks towards her, her book on her lap... looking at him with a smile. A warm smile that calms him, even if only a little. With her gloved left hand, she pats the space next to her.

"Come join me. I could use some warmth."

"S-Sure...!" He says, looking at the floor, somehow feeling hesitant to get up. Come on, he thinks. She's in a good mood! It's confirmed now! Nothing will happen! Well, nothing bad, at least. With a shaky, newfound confidence, he gets up, turns off his computer, and without making any eye contact, climbs into bed, her close proximity both comforting and mildly terrifying. His eyes dart to the lone door separating the bedroom from the rest of the house. Co close, yet, with Kyoko so close by, so far. But also...

...Actually, her presence is starting to be a lot more comforting. It's an atmosphere that's threatening to break at any time, but it's a dim candle in this brutal winter.

Kyoko scooches over to him, Makoto's urge to get away from her momentarily spiking before dropping to more reasonable levels. "What are you so scared of?" She asks, looking at him with concern, sounding somewhat hurt. "I'm not going to do anything. Just relax, Makoto." She says, getting closer to the point where her body touches his. Compared to his hoodie-clad self, Kyoko is in her undergarments. All those years, yet she never fails to look absolutely stunning...

Wordlessly, she inserts her bookmark into the book she read, and puts it away. "I'm very tired, Makoto. I need to cuddle with you to gain energy tomorrow." She jokes. "I'd suggest taking off your clothes."

Internally, he sighs in relief. It's okay, it's okay. Kyoko really is just in a good mood. She wouldn't hurt him. Not now. He gets off in order to change. His beloved hoodie, his shirt, his pants, leaving him in nothing but underwear, getting Kyoko to stare a little.

Even if it unnerves him, that stare of hers... He knows that she doesn't mean him any harm. He forces a smile, as he steps in bed once more, bracing himself for the inevitable sensation of Kyoko's embrace.

He hears shuffling behind him. "Thank you." She says. She hooks her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace that puts Makoto at ease. Any doubt about Kyoko not being angry is gone at this point, as he lets himself get accustomed to the comforting warmth of her body. All of the discomfort in his body slips away. And so does his consciousness.

---

And then, next thing he knows, it's eight AM in the morning. He and Kyoko just came out of the shower and ate breakfast, both of which went rather well... though her face seems more... tense, somehow?

"We need to talk." She says, crossing her hands, sat across Makoto at the table.

Makoto scratches his cheek. Oh no. She's... She's mad. "What ab-"

"What was that yesterday?" She asks, not raising her voice. "What were you so scared of?"

His mouth runs dry at that question. Crap. Crap crap CRAP! What in the world is he supposed to answer? That he was scared of her? That it was nothing? His mouth hangs open, as if trying to come up with a satisfactory answer. He tries not to look over to the door, but he can't look at Kyoko. What should he say? What should he not say?

"Uhh... I..." He begins, feeling like he vomited needles. He giggles nervously, "I-I don't remember! I mean, it was probably nothing, right? You know I can just get... like that... sometimes..." He trails off, feeling her intense glare.

"'I don't remember' won't cut it. You and I both know that you have a perfectly clear recollection of yesterday." She says. "Think harder. Why were you scared? What were you scared of?"

"Oh, o-okay..." He glances over to the side, to nowhere in particular. God dammit, he's a sitting duck here! He can't just walk away, he can't argue back, he's actually going to have to say something valid! Maybe he can just say a half-truth, or something...

But nothing comes. There is one truth. He was scared that he'd disturb Kyoko, and that she'd then get angry at him. He could say that he was scared of disturbing her because he didn't want to, but then she'd follow up with why he didn't want to, and in that case, he has no idea if he could lie effectively. So, that's it! He's done! He has no other options left. All he can do is hope for the best.

"I..." He tries to look at her. "I was scared that... y-you'd do something, for disturbing you." He tries to explain. Kyoko looks... visibly hurt? But...

"Makoto. I wouldn't do such a thing." She says, reaching across the table to place a hand on his shoulder. "Trust goes both ways, Makoto. I am hurt that you don't trust me, even if I trust you. Why, Makoto? Why do you want to hurt me so much?"

"H-Huh?" He yelps. Oh no. Not this. "B-But I-"

"Then why don't you trust me?" She asks, putting more weight behind her voice. "We're lovers. Married lovers, even. There isn't supposed to be any distrust in a relationship, right? And yet, here you are. Too scared to approach me because you don't trust me to be in a good mood. I... Please, tell me. Did I give you a reason to not trust you? Or do you not care about me trusting you?" She asks.

An eerie shadow falls over his head. It... really is this again, huh? What point is Kyoko even trying to make here? All she's doing is putting him on the spot!

"Please. I need to know. Communication is important too, right?" She asks, strengthening her grip on his shoulder. "Tell me. I won't get mad."

Makoto takes a deep breath. Yeah, right. 'I won't get mad', she says. He knows that that is very much not true. She always does this! She tries to make him trust her, to make him tell her what she's thinking, and then the next thing, they're fighting, with Mokoto mostly on the defensive. He always wants to tell himself that he won't ever fall for that again, but he never has any choice. It's a trap he has no choice but to walk into. If only he just approached her head-on... But then she'd probably also get mad. There's no winning here. He might as well just...

"I was scared you'd do something because..." He takes another deep breath, trying his best to look her in the eye. He feels like he's trying to talk a wild animal out of mauling him. "B-because you always get angry and I don't know why!" He says. "And, and you always... I didn't want to deal with that, you know."

Kyoko's stare intensifies. great, he thinks. Amazing. He has really done it now. He has seriously told his wife that he didn't want to deal with her. Why did he think this was a smart idea?

"I'm sorry."

...What?

"You're right." She says, pulling away from him. She plays with her hair, "I do get unreasonably mad from time to time. Sorry about that. But don't you think you're to blame for this too?" She asks, looking away, her voice as calm as ever. "I mean, if you just trusted me, I wouldn't... lash out like I do sometimes. Do you understand?"

He fights the urge to argue back, deciding that that's a terrible idea. "Y-yeah..."

"So, while I shouldn't have reacted so harshly, you should also try to just be comfortable around me. It hurts me to think my own husband doesn't trust me. I'm sorry, you're sorry, let's just put this behind us, alright?"

"O-Okay..." He mutters.

"Speak clearly and look me in the eyes."

He listened to her command. "Okay!"

She giggles. "As adorable as ever..."

And... that was that. As Kyoko goes upstairs, leaving him behind, he lets out a massive sigh of relief. That. Was stressful. Thank goodness she didn't do anything, he thinks. Kyoko does have a point, though. He shouldn't have been so scared of her. She didn't even end up doing anything. What in the world was he thinking? As if his wife would actually try and hurt him! She doesn't have any ill intentions! She just wants him to trust her. There's nothing wrong with wanting your own partner to trust you! Some husband he is, huh? He can't even put his all into loving Kyoko.

Though, he decided that he can't keep up self-deprecating forever. He has to clear his head after that. He walks upstairs to his room, seeing Kyoko busy with a case. Of course. Classic Kyoko.

He reaches into his drawer, retrieving his key ring, with a house key and his bike key on it, as well as some cash, just in case he feels like spending.

"I'll be biking around town!" Makoto says to Kyoko, who just replies with a dry "Okay".

Walking back downstairs, he gets to the front door, and opens it, letting the fresh air into his lungs. He puts on his shoes, walks outside, closing the door behind him. He already feels more refreshed. The sky is a beautiful, radiant blue, a stark contrast to tonight's abysmal weather. It's mildly warm. An amazing day to just relax.

Chapter Text

Mukuro looks ahead at her surroundings. The houses, the streets, the people... None of them are much to her besides rectangles, lines and blobs. She exited her house, blinked, and now she's about a kilometre ahead, walking her usual route, as she does every single day. Blistering heat, heavy storms, intense, unmerciful cold, pick one, maybe even several at the same time, she'll still walk this very same route. It's not very scenic; the land is generally flat, there aren't a lot of trees and the drywall on some houses is noticeably deteriorating, but she hasn't exactly been one to care. It's a route that keeps the legs moving, one that keeps her healthy.

And all of that is brutally interrupted when she spots someone biking ahead of her. It's a relatively normal bike, one that prioritises comfort over speed, as is common in countries with lots of bikes. There's a basket attached to the front, though it's not housing anything. And the person on it is... is...

...Wait. That's...!

That little bundle of hair on his head... If she remembers correctly, she might recall his cute face, befitting someone in their teenage years...

She immediately stops everything, including her hitherto uninterrupted walk. If that's who she thinks he is, she has to talk to him! She braces herself, getting into position to run after him. With little hesitation, she charges forward, throwing her whole body forward for momentum. He's a slow cyclist, so she catches up to him with ease. "Waaait!" she shouts at him. His legs stop moving, letting the bike slow down before squeezing the brake. He steps off the bike, turning to the source of the sound.

Now that he's motionless, she looks at him once again. That ahoge... Check. That incredibly cute face... Check. That intoxicating, addictive, subtle smile... Check check check.

"Makoto?" she asks the boy, finding it wrong to see him as a man. Like, just look at him! He's NOT twenty-eight! Nuh uh! No way, Jose!

"Mukuro?" the boy replies, looking at her with a notable surprise etched on his face., while he holds on to the bike.

"Oh, yeah... that's me." she says dismissively, looking away, trying to act cool. "What a funny coincidence, huh... Long time no see. It's been, what, three years?"

He looks off to nowhere in particular, "No, it's been ten years." he says, turning back to her, "How are you doing, by the way?"

"Oh, I'm doing well, thanks." she says. Still looking out for others, huh... She takes a step closer to him, almost pitying him. He's clearly... NOT had much of a growth spurt, that's definitely for sure. Much like herself, in some ways... Still, her height means one thing. "C'mere, Makoto! I've really really missed you!" she says, grabbing the boy from behind, curling her hand into a fist, and rubbing Makoto's head with it. "Hahahaha! I've missed doing this!" she says, getting into her element with the boy, giggling at the slight resistance he's showing.

And then their fun is interrupted by crashing. Of the bike, to be exact. As he tries fruitlessly pulling away with his arms, he neglects his bike, and it falls right over. She reluctantly releases him. "Sorry," She says, "I had to, okay? It's really been about eight thousand years since I last did this."

"It's okay, I understand." he says, picking up his bike. "Let's catch up some more, actually. I think I have the time..."

Something about the way he said it doesn't feel right to her, but she brushes it off. "Oh, yeah, how is Kyoko doing?" she asks, hoping for the best.

"Pretty well, actually," he says, "We got married last week."

Dammit. So much for that, then... Guess she'll never find love if he's unavailable.

She doesn't let it show, however, "Wow, way to go! I can really see why she picked you - and stayed with you. You're a real cutie, you know." she says, deciding to step up the teasing.

And the sheer look on his face... Oh, it's just... Actually, it feels slightly off, somehow? Maybe it's the soldier in her who is perceptive by necessity talking, but he seems uncomfortable in a way that doesn't seem like embarrassment. He's embarrassed, yes, but... It's just a weird feeling. She brushes that feeling off also.

"Y-Yeah, I guess I am, huh..." he says, scratching his head nervously with his free hand, holding his bike with the other.

"Actually, you wouldn't BELIEVE how many people were into you back then! Kyoko was far from the only one." she says, laughing. Of course, she hides the fact that she hated the competition, even after the whole thing with Kyoko.

"W-Wow, I... had no idea, actually."

"I heard that one time, a girl in the Reserve Course broke up with her boyfriend because she hoped she could get together with you." she says. She remembers some students from the Reserve Course gossiping about it. She never participated in any gossip, but she sure overheard the overly passionate way the girls spoke about Makoto. Makoto's eyes widen, and his mouth hangs slightly agape. "Yyyeah. You were a very popular boy." she says. She decides to not mention the Makoto Fan Club that some Reserve Course students organised. Why? Because... well...

Let's just say that that one time that a member made cookies for Makoto with her period blood added in is only the tip of the iceberg surrounding all the Makoto Fan Club incidents. It's only a good thing that the cookies never ended up anywhere near Makoto. And that he stays ignorant of the Makoto Fan Club. After all, the Reserve Course was batshit fucking crazy. Probably still is.

"P-People did that?" he asks, horrified, before deflating, "I... And to think they could've had a happy, fulfilling relationship if it wasn't for me..."

She smiles pitifully at him, "Don't worry, Makoto. A relationship that flimsy wouldn't have gotten anywhere. What I'm trying to say is that you're a real cutie, and that it's nice that people recognised you for it. Heck, maybe you've still got girls staring at you sometimes."

He laughs, "Oh, I actually don't really get out that much. It could upset Kyoko, so..."

Upset Kyoko? Yeah, no, that's DEFINITELY not right. You don't have to be unreasonably perceptive of people to spot what's basically a big, flashing neon sign. What kind of girl is she to get upset by Makoto... simply leaving?

She doesn't show any of these concerns. Maybe she's overreacting. Maybe it's just a cute, playful, pouty 'grr where were you when i needed cuddles' type of jealousy.

Occam's Razor. The simplest answer is probably the correct one. It's something that has occasionally helped her out in combat. There's no need to overthink about the enemy when the answer to a problem she might face is right there. So in this case, something as petty and inconsequential as that is the most likely option.

But then again, she no longer lives in an environment where she has to settle for 'most likely' to survive. Perhaps there really is something INSANELY fucky going on between them. She could try to find out more, at least.

So, after an uncomfortably long period of silence, Mukuro speaks up, "Sounds like a high-maintenance girlfriend." she says.

"I..." He looks away, visibly gripping his bike harder, "Yeah. She can be difficult sometimes."

"Then, you'd better go before she goes all yandere on you!" she says. "Before that, why don't we exchange phone numbers?" She asks, holding out her flip phone. "Here's mine."

He stares at the screen for a while. Mukuro visibly starts to get uncomfortable, "I mean, just in case you wanna talk again. I'm not forcing you, it's just been so long and I really wanna catch up with you more." She says. And find out more about their relationship, cuz this is a little weird.

"I don't have my phone... Also, I don't remember my phone number. S-Sorry." he says.

"Then how about I just ... hold on a sec..." she says, digging a store receipt out of her pocket. She then slowly, painstakingly makes cuts and rips to form her phone number using her nails and fingers, and hands the receipt to him. "Might be a little tricky to read, but this should be good enough." she says. "Now, uhh... gosh it's really been ten years...?" she asks. Mainly to herself, though. She waves, "Uhh, see ya! If you ever wanna hang out again, contact me!"

"I will!" Makoto says, walking away with his bike, making sure the receipt he received stays secure in his pockets. "Bye!" he says, waving. He looks back one last time as he bikes away and she can't help but smile.

Yup, it's Makoto alright. The same bright, cheerful boy she once knew, but sadly just as quick to take the blame for things he really shouldn't take the blame for. And there's the matter with Kyoko to deal with, and it all just becomes a huge mess she doesn't want to think about right now.

So she focuses on the positive parts. Ten years and he's still as cute as ever! A little more manly, but even so, his boyishness still radiates from his very body! The type of boyishness that makes you want to just have your way with him. She can already just imagine the cute faces he'd make as he gets completely destroyed down there.

Sadly, said cute faces are nothing more than a simple pipe dream for her. It's Kyoko who has access to them now, not her. And that thought is fucking depressing, so she tries to think about other things.

Oh yeah! It's still so easy to let herself loose around him. There's no need to be super serious with him. She can just be a regular girl around him. As if she didn't do all the terrible things she did. It wasn't easy coming out about it to him, but he somehow just makes it easy. He could probably make serial killers confess to their crimes just by his mere presence.

...Fuck, the thoughts are becoming depressing for an entirely different reason now. Let's not think about it anymore. She doesn't want her walk to be like this. So she thinks about more nice things about him. She tries her best to contain her giddiness.

---

Before long, her walk leads her back home, and she hurries to her bedroom. She just can't contain herself anymore. She lays face down on her bed, and grabs a pillow. She puts it to her face, and begins absolutely destroying her vocal cords in it. She rapidly kicks her feet on her bed. This is the most excited she's felt in a good while. Maybe he can actually get her lonely ass to socialise once more!

Sadly, reality often brings with it an unhealthy dose of despair. Since, you know, he's, like, taken. And that fact makes her think certain thoughts.

First of all: Fuck Kyoko! It should've been Mukuro! Not that stuck-up emotionless detective bitch!

...Gosh, ten years and she still quietly holds a grudge against the one who beat her to the punch.

Second: Makoto was very... For lack of better words, nervous when the subject of Kyoko came up. As if her very name scares him somehow. That... can't possibly be healthy. And then there's that comment about Kyoko being upset when Makoto is out for too long...

Who knows. Maybe he's been out for hours. Maybe she doesn't actually mind him being out, but prefers him with her instead.

That'd be the more likely option. However, that doesn't mean it's the right one.

God does she wish she can just get a concrete answer immediately. If only life was so simple. On the bright side, it's kind of an excuse to talk with him more. She could at least settle for being friends with him. She could still be the good friend she was for Makoto, one of two people where she's not afraid to let more of herself out. That other person besides Makoto...

...It's actually kind of funny. Despite that person being, by several metrics, an absolutely terrible person, she still misses her. Even with the treatment she now knows is terrible, she can't help but occasionally wish to hear her put her down again, if only to be assured that she's still with her. She also misses that unyielding, undying loyalty she used to hold, one that Makoto steadily helped overcome.

At the same time, she's glad Junko is out of her life for the time being. She was undeniably a bad influence. Actually, that doesn't even BEGIN to cover just how bad she was for her.

But at the same time, serving Junko to the utmost is what she's been used to for most of her life...

Aaand she's thinking about Junko again. Fuck. This is the LAST thing she needed. For some reason, thinking about Makoto just makes her miserable. Maybe it's a side effect of his luck...?

Ahh, nothing that can't be beaten by more positive thoughts about Makoto...

---

-MONOKUMA THEATRE-

Curtains rising! Lights blaring! Audience cheering! Monokuma Theatre! Commencing!!!

"Thank you for reading 'To Escape'. It would be great if you recommended this to your family and friends!"

He tilts his head to the side, "...Buuuuut would you really want to do that? Why would you? I mean, when you get a bar of chocolate, you wouldn't be sharing that stuff, would you? No, you'd be eating it all yourself. It's the same with any piece of media you like. Why share? If you share, it will get popular. You will lose any privileges as one of the few fans of the media. It won't be yours anymore. You'll be just another one of the thousands of fans of that media. What a depressing thing to be..."

"So really, what I want to say is... Don't share this with your friends and family! Don't tell anyone else about this! This piece of media should be yours and yours only."

"I know I certainly won't be sharing all the fish I caught... Oops! Did I overshare my secrets...?"

Chapter Text

Well, that certainly was a day. Clearing his mind has paid off thoroughly for the man. And that's mainly because of one person.

Mukuro Ikusaba.

Once a good friend of his at Hope's Peak, he hasn't seen her in ten years. And she certainly changed. While third-year Mukuro looked more happy and confident than first-year Mukuro, current Mukuro bears even less resemblance to her first-year self. He can't help but be proud of her, that she was able to grow beyond her past. Beyond what Junko wanted her to be.

Her appearance has also changed a little. Her... chest is bigger than he remembers it to be. As a man, he has to admit that she's actually pretty cute. Not that she wasn't back in high school, but if Mukuro was right about the insults she'd casually have hurled at her, Junko's assertions certainly haven't aged amazingly. Somehow, he feels like the world would be a worse place if he hadn't gone so out of his way for her sake.

That's not to say he was a perfect friend. She had some trouble communicating with strangers, from what he could remember. A huge part of him thinks that he should've tried harder.

Ahh, to reminisce about his high school days... Life was a lot simpler back then. Man, was he embarrassingly slow on the uptake in terms of romance, and that's not even counting all the people who were apparently into him. At some point, Kyoko had to explain to him in excruciating detail that she was in love with him and that she wanted to date him. He probably shouldn't have kept her waiting so long, he thinks. The tension must have been excruciating. But at least they got together in the end...

He lies in bed, enjoying some music while Kyoko is working on her case. He's listening to some of Sayaka's older music. Not because it's necessarily better or anything, but because it brings back good memories. He doesn't have the volume too high, otherwise Kyoko will be able to hear the music through his headphones... and she doesn't seem too fond of Sayaka, something that she's made sure to remind him of whenever she catches him listening to her music. He knows he's taking a risk by listening in the same room as her, but the volume's low enough. He has made sure the volume is muted when the cord accidentally unplugs, too. He's learned from that mistake already.

He's snapped out of his trance as Kyoko sits up, his reflexes suddenly taking control of his hands to turn the music off immediately. She then leaves the room.

...Is she going to the bathroom? He watches the now-closed door with confusion. He was worried for nothing. He lets out a quiet sigh, scared that Kyoko will somehow hear him. Kyoko's spiel about trust comes to mind, and he suddenly feels bad for assuming the worst. She probably trusts him to not be playing Sayaka's music. He knows that it upsets her, yet why did he do it? What possessed him?

Deciding he's done with listening to music, he turns off his phone, unplugs his headphones, and puts them on the bedside table next to him, waiting for Kyoko to return from what he presumes to be a spell to the bathroom.

Before his thoughts can grow remotely morbid, Kyoko returns, proceeding to shortly tidy up her desk. She then takes off her clothes, leaving her only in her favourite black undergarments, before joining him in bed. It feels pleasant to have him close to her, yet also frightening. She's not mad... probably? In fact, she's smiling at him. She's staring at him with a smile, making Makoto feel several centimetres smaller than he already is. She begins stroking his thigh, too.

Of course. This again. Being together for ten years has given Makoto a solid idea about how Kyoko communicates her needs. He leans into her, kissing her on the lips, their tongues eventually joining the equation. A few minutes in, his boxers feel way more cramped. He then ends the kiss to lean over to his bedside table, retrieving a condom from one of the drawers. He doesn't even need to look at the drawer; it's all muscle memory to him. So is taking off his underwear, and pulling the condom over his now erect penis. He doesn't even need to think about it.

Pushing the blanket away to the side, he rubs around on Kyoko's now dampened underwear, he can almost feel her outer lips through the fabric, eliciting a slight whimper from his wife. He knows she likes it when he's being a tease, so he keeps at it for a little while. Feeling like now's a good time to get to the main part, he tugs at her underwear, it sliding somewhat raggedly across her legs due to the resistance it puts up. He then haphazardly throws it off the side of the bed, his penis at Kyoko's pussy. He leans over her body, looking at her eager, patient face, before spreading her legs apart, and leaning down on her, pushing inside.

And outside, and inside, and outside. He abandons nearly all thought. He lets instinct take over from here on, powered by the slight, alluring noises coming out of her throat.

The sex lasts for about an hour, and before they know it, Kyoko is leaning into Makoto, enjoying the afterglow with him. They desperately need to shower at this point, but that can wait for tomorrow.

It honestly wasn't that remarkable. Almost befitting someone as ordinary as him. But it doesn't need to be. Not all sex has to be mind-blowing. It can be fun to just turn off the brain and go with the flow without deviating even once. And it certainly was a pretty fun time.

At this point, sex is no longer just a way for them to show their love to each other. It's just something they do. No real motive behind it. Just a mutual succumbing of urges.

Everything feels all warm and fuzzy to him. That's probably his favourite part of sex. Not how good it feels in the moment, but right after, when he gets to bask in euphoria with his beloved partner. Like the feeling you get after listening to good music. When the silence sets in, and you realise just how good it was.

Kyoko's trust speech still lingers in his mind. He figures that this is a good way to repay her. After all, there wasn't an ounce of verbal communication, just a shared trust between both of them. That should show that he trusts her, right? She's just smiling, so there's nothing wrong, right?

...Why does he feel like this? This isn't right! He's being as distrustful of her as he can right now, and here she is, ready to berate him if she finds out! Or worse, even! Fortunately, a well-timed pat on the head quells his doubts, her fingers playing with his ahoge. She's not mad at him. Internally, he sighs in relief.

Not another word is said that night. Kyoko is a rather fast sleeper this time, leaving Makoto alone with his thoughts about Mukuro. Truth be told, he's a little worried. He's glad to finally reconnect with an old friend, but Kyoko might not... like it. She's actually a little sensitive about Makoto talking to other women. Even looking at other women causes her to visibly tense up.

And discovering that he has a strange new phone number etched into a store receipt might leave her to connect the dots and get mad at him for contacting another woman. So, he really has to be careful from now on, lest he suffer her wrath. Maybe it might not be a good idea to rely on a phone number to contact her. If Kyoko makes him destroy the receipt or something, their connection will be completely severed. He needs something more concrete. Perhaps they could occasionally meet up at a certain location at a certain time. Weekly, maybe? Biweekly? Maybe they could meet up at the train station? After only having Kyoko to properly talk to for years, that sounds like a nice change of pace, honestly...

Then, he looks at Kyoko's sleeping form, clinging to him. And he feels guilty for thinking that.

Chapter Text

Here she is, right after a really good music production session. When did she get so into making music? Why?

Perhaps because it's an easy way to get busy and contribute to society. Video games are fun, but playing them doesn't quite contribute to society. She has taken a liking for both, though, so she has taken to combining those two newfound hobbies...

...in BMS! A file format for BMS games that she creates music for.

But that's getting wildly off topic. It's been two days since... then. Since she met Makoto for the first time in eleven years... Look, the numbers aren't important, it's just been a long-ass time. Time NOT spent with Makoto.

And somehow, these two days have felt longer than the past ten years. Does he still have her phone number? Is Kyoko an actual bitch after all? Has his luck left him gently fucked up the ass good by fate? These are all questions she can't have an answer to at present. But there IS one question she's closer to having an actual answer to.

Does she really deserve him?

No, like, seriously. Think about this for ONE second. Mukuro Ikusaba, former mercenary, former right-hand to Junko Enoshima, now in jail for an unrelated 'voluntary manslaughter'. A brash girl who left nothing but death and destruction in her path. Whether it was soldiers, innocent civilians, or even...

...THAT.

The infamous Giboura Massacre. A mass stabbing of an entire middle school, with only two surviving the incident. It's an incident SHE is largely responsible for. Junko may have told her to get her hands dirty, but it's Mukuro who carried out an ultimately pointless, brutal mass killing because of her, at the time, absolutely undying loyalty to her sister. Junko didn't kill all those innocent people. Mukuro did. She wasn't threatened in any way. She carried out such a horrific mass killing out of her own volition.

In short, she did some genuinely terrible things. Things that would make any ordinary person hate you, or at least want to stay away from you. But Makoto isn't normal, no matter how much he tries to tell himself. He has said that his kindness and cheer is his one shining trait, but the way he phrases it makes it sound insignificant, even though it's frankly ridiculous that he didn't get an Ultimate title for that.

He was loved at Hope's Peak for a reason. He might have been normal, and he might have had a BIT of an inferiority complex, but his radiant personality and kindness is simply something else. And he made Mukuro of all people his designated target practice for friendship.

After a while... She came out to him about her crimes. It just kind of happened somehow. And.. most people would hear 'I killed almost an entire middle school' and be justifiably disgusted. Makoto, however, for some reason, tried to assure her she no longer was that person. And it worked for some reason. That was the first time she cried in ages.

Someone could probably turn the world into a nearly unlivable apocalyptic shithole and he'd STILL try to see the good in them. So in the forgiveness department, she's all good. A simple platonic friendship is not off the table. Perhaps even a romantic one.

Though, she doesn't feel good about the prospect somehow. He may forgive her, but that doesn't change the fact that she's a war criminal, mass killer and perpetrator of the most horrific mass stabbing in history, for fucks sake! She was taught to abandon morals, and she did. No mercy for anyone. No remorse for any of her victims. In a way, that's what made her the Ultimate Soldier. It made her able to do ANYTHING with a steady hand.

Emphasis on 'made'. Which brings her to her opposing point. She now has lines she wouldn't want to cross ever again. She hasn't killed anyone in at least ten years. She never needed to, and she never really wanted to. In that sense, Makoto is right. She really isn't that kind of person anymore. She doesn't want to be. She has tried to actively make a positive impact on society with her music, which, not to brag, has been very well received, even if there are some who have their reservations about listening to music made by a known war criminal.

And remorse for her crimes? Well, she cried with Makoto back then for a reason, she's sure. It was like all the terrible things she did for a cause that, though she didn't quite know at the time, ultimately proceeded to be completely pointless caught up to her. Nothing she did for Junko had to be done if just one person was the catalyst to her plans of world destruction failing horrendously. And... even with that purpose, Giboura didn't serve Junko. It was nothing more than target practice for Mukuro. The sharpening of a sword that could already cut through steel by a mere graze. All of that... really fucked with her back then.

And it still sometimes fucks with her to this day. Even right now. She can live a relatively normal, well-adjusted life, even if it gets fucking lonely. Sometimes, though, her crimes come back to haunt her. They're demons she can manage just fine on her own. She wouldn't have been the Ultimate Soldier if she couldn't, after all. Nevermind the fact that she was a MERCENARY, not a SOLDIER, which Mukuro could spend an eternity talking about, but that's besides the point. Occasionally, though, they provide her with very inconvenient sleepless nights. She tries to sleep for hours, but the fact that she has a kill count in the thousands keeeps her awake better than any caffeine product could hope to do. People walk by her in the store. They see an overly masculine girl buy ready-made food, one they don't know has committed unspeakable atrocities. They don't know that she could kill everyone in the store if she really REALLY wanted to.

Sometimes it's an effective way to keep her awake when inspiration strikes her, sometimes she just wants to sleep, for fucks sake!

And that sums up her two sides in this battle. On one hand, she did really bad things. On the other hand, she's actively trying (and depending on who you ask, succeeding) to redeem herself. On one hand, that's like uploading an apology video for running a human trafficking ring. On the other hand, she is honestly trying to better herself.

And honestly? Both sides have equal merit. To her, at least. She just can't decide whether she deserves Makoto in the first place. Whether he deserves someone better than her. Maybe it's better to just let him decide. If he calls back, and wants to hang out with her, then he accepts her. If he doesn't, he doesn't.

...Actually, that might be satisfactory. Or not. She doesn't know if it's satisfactory. Perhaps that, in and of itself, makes the answer unsatisfactory.

Thinking about it any further is just making everything worse, so she decides to try not to.

---

"I don't fucking get it!" the soldier shouts at the top of her lungs. This isn't fucking supposed to happen! This isn't what she wanted! This isn't the end result she intended for! What. the Actual. FUCK is going on here?

"No matter what I do..." She begins, adjusting a parameter, "...It still sounds like complete garbage! What the fuck?" She asks no one in particular.

She stares at the screen for a while, trying to see just what the hell is going on here. Maybe she shouldn't fret about it. After all, not everyone is gonna have perfect pitch or anything, or be able to pick up on the minutest of details. But... This track just sounds horrendously muddy! And while muddy low-ends are great, this isn't what she wanted in this instance!

And, then, her problem is solved by one accidental misclick. That's when she spots that she accidentally put the delay on top of the reverb, not the other way around as it usually should be. She swaps them around, plays the track, and... it sounds good now. No more muddy garbage!

...And it only took her an hour to figure out. She mentally facepalms.

Actually... Would Makoto like her music? Is he an active listener?

Probably not. If he's as average as average gets, there's no way he listens to her music instead of actually popular, mainstream stuff. Something about it is oddly endearing to her. Perhaps that's another thing he was loved for: just how normal and down-to-earth he is. He didn't have some crazy talent or anything (despite the fact that his boundless positivity should be an Ultimate talent), or even look particularly flashy (not that that stopped him from becoming popular). He was just a common man in a world of insanity. Flashbacks to the many hijinks of the Makoto Fan Club ensue, and... She'd really rather not think about it. She doesn't know many people that randos who barely know them have actually killed for. Not figuratively or anything. They straight up took human lives for Makoto. Pretty much the one reason no one heard of them is because what happens in the Reserve Course, stays in the Reserve Course. Hope's Peak really should've known what if you took bratty nepo babies who could afford the Reserve course, blind simps for the talented who beg their parents to go there, and people with enough dubiously-acquired money to get in, and many more categories of filth, it would NOT end well. Those categories don't have to be mutually exclusive, either.

And the fact that Kyoko might actually not be that much better is highly concerning, to say the least. Again, she has basically ZERO evidence, but the red flags are there. Some glaring, blinding even, some not as obvious to those who didn't have to learn to read people well to survive.

Since the fact that there's no evidence frustrates her, she opts to actually collect evidence. Since she solves the problem with her music, she steps away for a moment to think about a plan.

It's a simple one, anyway: She just waits for Makoto to ask to meet, and from there on, she will press him about his relationship. She will try not to be afraid to really get into heavier matters. Emphasis on try. Despite not being sure she actually deserves him, she also doesn't actually want him to think less of her. Perhaps a little selfish, but her life has been annoyingly lonely these past ten years, she can be selfish. Just this once. As a treat.

Anyway, when she collects more evidence, she'll be able to connect the dots better, and see what image they form. Yeah, sounds like a plan.

And then the phone rings.

---

-MONOKUMA THEATRE-

Curtains rising! Lights blaring! Audience cheering! Monokuma Theatre! Commencing!!!

"My love life has never been great. Such is the life of a bear, I guess. After a while, you just learn to live with it."

"One day, I walked past this really cute girl. I was like 'Hey, cutie', and she was like 'oh, you flirt, tere hee'. Needless to say, we hit it off. We had some really great chemistry. That is, until that fateful day... It'll be etched into my inner fabric for as long as I live..."

"I come home, after we move in together, only to find my wife. Dead, on the ground. I found a suicide note nearby. On it was written... Actually, I don't really know. It was a bunch of chicken scratch. Damgit, woman! If you're gonna write a suicide note, do it right! So anyway, as I processed my trauma, I eventually realised that she looked rather tasty. So I took her body, and made some schnitzel out of her to warm my heart. Ahh, how I remember that day. So traumatic, yet so delicious...!"

He lowers his head, "Of course, that never went over well with any other girl I met. I'd recount to them my tales with my long-departed love, and they immediately shut me down. Always the same thing, too. 'You're not supposed to use that much salt!' they say. Shut up, I say, she was nearly inedible without salt! And that always gets insults hurled at me..."

"It might not be worth it for me anymore, but if you're young, and in love, make it count! Confess to her, let your heart shine! Oh, and make sure to not use too much salt, otherwise your love life will go down the drain, drain, drain!"

Chapter Text

And now he's doing it again.

It's been an uneventful two days after that. Since she gave him what must have been the billionth trust speech. Thank goodness she kept it concise that time. She can really go on and on if she really feels like drilling something in his head. It's boring, and makes him constantly feel on edge. Like he should be scared of her, or something.

And now he's doing it again. Now he's breaking her trust. Again. And deliberately this time. Again.

Doing his best to read the torn-out numbers on the receipt he received from Mukuro, he types it in on his phone, and calls that number. Despite Kyoko being away to collect evidence for a case she's not allowed to involve him in, and despite her not returning until much later, sometimes he can feel her presence behind him. A set of phantom eyes that he thinks are staring him down. He tries his best to ignore it as the phone rings.

Riiiiing. The phone vibrates in his hand. Riiiiing. He taps his lap with his fingers, trying to ease the tension a little. Riiiiing. What if she got a number wrong or something? Riiiiing. Maybe she's just not home? Riiiiing-

"Hello...?" the person on the other end asks, a voice he very distinctly knows. Immediately, he lets out a sigh of relief.

"Hi, Mukuro!" he says, glad to hear her voice after so long (a grand total of two days). "I, I think we should, uhh..."

"Meet up? Yeah, sure, got, like, literally SO much time to kill... How about my house? I wanna... show you."

"I was just about to ask you where to meet up, actually, but... yeah, I can agree with that." he says, ignoring the suspicious, conspicuous hesitation. 'When do you want me to, though?"

"Well, uhh, now...? Is that good? Is Kyoko not hoarding you?" she asks.

He looks around, not for anything in particular, "Now's good, yeah. Where do you live?" he asks.

---

And so, he's here, at Mukuro's house. It's a bit weird that a mass murderer and war criminal lives like everyone else, but he's also happy for her. She deserves at least some ounce of normalcy after everything...

A few seconds after knocking, the door opens to a bright Mukuro. A far cry from the overly serious Mukuro he once used to know. "Come in," she says, and Makoto happily obliges. He takes his shoes off the moment he steps inside, and he notices that she...

Come to think of it, he's never really seen her so... casual. Loose, baggy, dull blue T-shirt and cargo shorts. Somehow, he finds it strangely fitting. Maybe it's that feeling of masculinity it gives off...

"What are you staring for?" she asks. If he wasn't startled by that sudden question, he'd notice the faint blush on her face.

"Oh, sorry! Don't mind me. Uhh..." he looks around, "Nice house."

"Thanks." she replies.

The conversation having come to its natural conclusion, he ventures deeper inside of her house. Contrary to what one would expect from a former soldier- ...mercenary, one in particular who spent a significant part of her life in poor living conditions, she keeps her house pretty tidy. The floor is practically shining, for one. It's as if she recently mopped it. And that's just the entrance. Perhaps she decided to clean up before he came. Regardless, she's looking to hold up well.

The living room is much the same. Clean floor, clean table, clean... basically everything, actually. He can smell a very faint scent of detergent, too. Yup, definitely recently cleaned.

"Hey, uhh, Makoto...?" Mukuro asks, standing at the threshold of the living room. "Like, how's... life with Kyoko?" she asks, suddenly looking more serious.

"We're doing okay," he says.

"Good, good... good." she says. "Has she changed at all? Is she still an ice queen?"

"Way less. She does smile more, and, uhh..." he scratches his head, "...she can be pretty mean if she wants." he says.

"Mean...?" she asks back, a frown appearing on her face.

He holds up a hand, waving it, "N-No no no, not like that! I mean she's very... mischievous sometimes? Something like that? I guess? And it's not much, just some teasing here and there!"

"Oh, yeah. That makes sense." she says. "Anyway, uhh... Can she be a little... like, overbearing? Y'know, the type of person who would put their partner on a leash to prevent them from getting... I dunno, hit by a car?"

"You can say that," he says. She... certainly seems interested in Kyoko somehow, now that he thinks about it.

"Oh? How so? Also, sit down on the couch if you wanna," she says, pointing to one in the corner of the living room. And so, he sits down, with Muluro sitting down next to him. Somehow, the lack of space between them is a little embarrassing.

"Well, she's... protective," he says. He doesn't want to mention the part where she doesn't let him outside the house for too long. Something tells him she'll overreact. "I really don't wanna talk about it, it's really embarrassing... Ehehe..."

"That's a good trait to have." she says, "I've always found you to be someone worth protecting, you know."

"I can imagine..." he says, thinking back to one day, where Mukuro, for lack of a better term... wreaked havoc on a student because he took his anger out on him.

Mukuro pouts, "C'moooon, it wasn't THAT bad! I restrained myself! And he didn't bother you again, right?"

"He didn't..." he says, not wanting this topic to continue any further, "Let's, uhh... move on."

After a small period of silence, she asks another question, "Okay, so, like, how are you and Kyoko? In bed?" she asks.

"In bed...?" Makoto ponders the question and its meaning, before feeling his face heat up, "I-I... That's private!"

"Oh, so you do fuck. Got it." She says, smirking. Somehow, her tone of voice feels less smug than it should be...

"N-No, I mean, uhh..."

"So you don't fuck? Huh, guess you didn't score as much as I thought."

He groans, "No, that's not what I- Okay, so yes, we have... uhh... we do 'it'. Big deal," he says, turning to see Mukuro giggling. "What's the matter?"

"I mean... Come on, Makoto, you're twenty-eight! And you can't even say 'sex'? What's next, you're secretly American and actually believe in cooties?"

"Cooties?" Makoto asks, "What's that?"

"It's, like, an American thing. I heard about it a few times back in my mercenary days. Basically, it's this fake illness you'd get if you interacted with the opposite gender. Like, if we were primary schoolers right now, we'd get cooties because we're interacting with each other. But anyway, I guess you still have literally no backbone whatsoever, huh? Come on, say it: Sex! It's three letters. You've done it before, come on!" She attempts to cheer him on.

"O-Okay..." Makoto stutters, "S... S-Sex..." He mutters, barely audible to the girl. He gets the urge to bury himself in the couch.

"Good job! At last, you're no longer innocent! You're finally an adult!" She cheers in obvious sarcasm. "Seriously though, I'm happy for you! Do you enjoy doing it, by the way? Nothing weird going on there, or anything?"

"N-No, I never do anything either of us don't want..."

"Good, good. Sorry for the embarrassing question, I just had to make sure that..." she trails off, a weird look on her face emerging.

"What's wrong?"

"Nevermind. Forget I said anything. Anyway... uhh... Like, where is she right now? Is she at home, or...? I know this is a specific question, but... please answer it."

...Weird. "She's busy right now. That's why I'm even here." he says. And with that reminder that he's not really allowed to do this, he suddenly feels a pit in his stomach. What if she returned prematurely? That would be REALLY bad.

"...Okay, no. Like I'm sorry but I can't ignore this..." she says, looking at him as if he claimed he saw a monster. "Seriously, is your relationship ACTUALLY doing okay? As your friend, I really have to know!"

"...Yeah, I'd say so," he says, scratching his cheek, "I mean, it could be better, but we love each other and I'm happy..." 'I think' is what he wants to finish that sentence with, but he chooses not to say it. "So... is there anything... concerning you? Anything wrong?"

"Uhh..." she looks into the distance, "I-I'm sorry. For this whole Kyoko thing. I was just curious. Let's, let's move on. Pretend this conversation never happened."

That's not actually answering his question, but perhaps she doesn't wanna answer it. It's not like he wants an answer per se, so he ignores it. "I get that. Now, could you tell me more about yourself?" he asks, "How's your love life?" he asks, wanting to get back at her.

"Like utter garbage." she says. "Makoto, I'm not unattractive, right? It really is just my antisocial tendencies that repel guys?"

"No, I'd say you're..." he looks at Mukuro, who seems excited at the eventual answer, "Pretty cute. You just need to get out more." he says.

"Ha, thank God for that, then." she says, pretending she's not insanely excited. Why she's excited, Makoto can only guess that it's because her attractiveness just got affirmed. "It's just a little hard when your past is... Yyyyyyyyyeah..." she trails off. "I don't even have any friends besides you. I'm doing well, though. Don't get me wrong, I really want a boyfriend and I'd want to die knowing I've had at least one, but I'm holding up. Got into music, too."

"Music?"

"Yeah, ever heard of BMS?" she asks.

"Uhh... it... DOES sound a little bit familiar..." he says, seemingly getting her hopes up, "Oh! It's like that button-mashing game, right?"

...and apparently dashing them in an instant, if that face is to be interpreted that way.

"It's not a 'button-mashing' game! There is, like, actual technique involved in these games!" she says, raising her voice. Seems like that's an easily pressable button for Mukuro. "I'm getting off-topic, though. I produce music to be used for that... It's actually not technically a game, but let's call it that for now. I'm pretty successful, too! Successful enough to make a living creating music! I don't know if it's anything you'd like, though..."

"Probably not..."

They proceed to spend an hour talking about their lives, Mukuro trying to avoid talking about Kyoko after everything. That pit in his stomach still persists, however. It's like this nagging feeling that something is off. He's conversing happily with an old friend, but it also feels like he really shouldn't be doing this. Probably because he ACTUALLY shouldn't be doing this. She doesn't like him out for too long, after all.

Somehow, despite that feeling, he also feels a strange sense of freedom. Like he has a chance to breathe after living almost exclusively with Kyoko in his life for about eight years.

But still, he's breaking her trust. Something he knows she doesn't like. Honestly, he'd like to stay here forever if it means avoiding her wrath. At the same time, he can't just leave Kyoko like that. Nor does he really want to. He still loves her. She still loves him. So why does he never learn...?

This isn't even the first time he has been doing something Kyoko doesn't allow him to do. Oh, far from it. Far far far from it. And he has almost always felt bad doing it. He wonders if it's so healthy to keep secrets. Likely not. But it's also a bad idea to just admit everything to Kyoko.

Dread for Kyoko's reaction if anything goes wrong, elation for the sense of freedom Mukuro provides, and guilt for breaking Kyoko's trust. Three different feelings, one standing apart from the rest in a way that tears him up inside. It's almost too much to think about. So he tries not to think about it...

"So anyway, how about a small tour?" Mukuro asks, snapping Makoto out of his thoughts, "Of... Of my house."

"Uhh... Yeah, sure! I'm curious!"

Mukuro gets up, "Follow me."

Makoto gets up too. And so, she shows him around. A nice little kitchen, a room for storage, a bathroom, and that covers the first floor. Another bathroom, two unused rooms, and...

"And here's my bedroom." Mukuro says, "Heh... A married man going to another girl's bedroom. Scandalous~!"

Scandalous indeed. Makoto doesn't say it.

"Uhh... Let's show you where I spend most of my days. I, like, just cleaned up, so, come in!" she says, opening the door, showing the boy (nearly thirty years old) inside.

It's surprisingly nice. In one corner lies a small bed, clearly for one person. In another corner is a trash can, with a crumpled-up can laying unfittingly next to it.

"Right, I... completely forgot. Whoopsie..." she says as she tosses it in the trash properly,

Next to that trash can stands her desk. It's rather expansive, featuring a computer, a weird controller thing with four white buttons next to each other, three darker buttons next to each other above, and a turntable. Somehow, it rings a bell.

"Oh yeah, I play that 'button-mashing' game with that," Mukuro says in a clear, unpleasant tone. "Try mashing and you'll crash and burn, like, IMMEDIATELY. The timings are very strict."

"Really? Didn't know. Could you explain more?" Makoto asks.

"...Makoto, do you really not thinik those kinds of games would punish you for mashing? This game has an accuracy system! And a very ruthless one at that!"

"Huh, I see." Makoto says, even though he didn't quite see.

"It's really fun, actually. Oh and need I remind you that I make music for it, too?" she says.

"Huh..."

"Okay, and so here, I've got a whole bunch of, uhh..." Mukuro pauses, walking over to a shelf, retrieving... whatever that is. "Army knives! They're pretty cool, aren't they?" she says.

"Uhh, yeah..." He says unenthusiatically. He feels bad about it though, so he lets her ramble on about them.

And ramble on she does. Boy does she ramble on about what to him are weird amalgamations of utility. She even showed him a Novoselic army knife. He'll probably never get that thing out of his head.

Despite Makoto truthfully not really caring about them, the fact that Mukuro cares warms his heart. It's nice to hear she's got genuine passions. She's really no longer the same gloomy girl she used to be, though that... does put it rather nicely.

"Uhh, sorry if I talk too much. I can't really help it..." she says.

"I don't mind, I like hearing you talk."

She visibly overheats. Why did he say that...? Sure, it's the truth, but part of him feels that it's not just- "A-Anyway, that's... uhh... that's it! That's literally my room, basically. Yeah."

"It's pretty nice," he says.

"Yeah."

...

...

...

"Shall we head downstairs?" She asks.

"Sure."

And so, they head downstairs, and spend more of the day talking, and eventually eating, before the sun starts to set. Makoto also gives her his phone number.

---

"Bye! Don't get hurt~!" Mukuro says, waving at Makoto, ready to get on his bike.

"Bye!" Makoto says back, paddling away. "Have a nice day!"

He looks at the sky. It's a pleasant, deep blue. Not quite dark, but certainly not light. The air feels pleasantly cool. A perfect time for cycling if he says so. And just in time, too! He completely forgot about Kyoko after she stopped prodding, somehow.

Somehow, the trip back feels less stressful than he initially anticipated. His legs don't tire like they tend to do during such commutes. Or maybe they do and he's just too happy to notice. He honestly couldn't care less at this point.

Before he knows it, he makes it back. He unlocks and opens the door, and walks in, thankfully finding no one inside.

Ahh, home once again. It feels pretty nice, but why can't he help but dread the arrival of Kyoko? What if she knows, somehow?

...No, she couldn't. She might be the former Ultimate Detective, but he can't remember leaving any evidence behind. For all she knows, he didn't go to another person's house. Even IF she somehow deduced that he went off somewhere, she couldn't know he went to Mukuro specifically. There is just no way.

Yeah. There's no way she'll know. He looks at the door, and for a moment, ponders the thought of getting out of here. He resists the urge. He doesn't know if Mukuro would like it if he just suddenly became her roommate. She likes him platonically at the very least, that much is blatantly obvious, but everything about the way she lives seems to be designed for one person only.

So he's pretty much stuck here. He tries to make himself comfortable, to brace himself for Kyoko's eventual arrival.

Sadly, that doesn't last long, when he hears her knocking. He quickly opens the door for her, and there she is. Kyoko. She walks in without a word, and takes off her shoes without a word. She heads to the kitchen, and...

"It looks like you cleaned up really well this time." she says. Makoto doesn't know what she's getting at. She looks at him, and smiles, "Honestly, I had no idea you could clean as well as me all along. I'm impressed."

...Oh.

Oh no. That's... a thing, yeah. He didn't make anything at home today, and while Kyoko has a tendency to clean the kitchen up until it looks brand new, Makoto isn't the type to go that far. And if Kyoko deduced that much, then...!

"What are you looking scared for?" she asks.

"Ah...! A, ahahahahaha.... I-I'm sorry... Look, I... I wasn't that hungry, and I... Well..." he stammers, looking around, trying to ignore her gaze, "I guess I just didn't feel like eating. Sometimes you just have one of those days, you know? Like, you just wanna lie in bed sometimes. And, so... I... I did just that. I know, it was pretty dumb, but...

She looks at him weird. Crap, did he try too hard? Is he in for it this time?

"Let's make you something to eat, then." she says. "Curry?"

"Oh, uhh, yeah, sure, thanks!"

He has to keep himself from sighing in relief. If he does, she'll grow suspicious.

---

Eventually, Kyoko makes him some awesome curry. He eats it all up, and Kyoko smiles adorably at the scene. She has already eaten, and Makoto... has ALSO already eaten, and he's a little full, but he's got a lie to keep up. Plus, curry.

"Makoto, I'm gonna need you to promise something." she says.

"Hm?"

"In a week from now, there'll be this new movie playing in theatres. It's called 'The Kiss From A Leaf'. I'm a little excited, but I'm afraid I'll forget about it if I'm not reminded later. So, could you do that for me then?"

'The Kiss From A Leaf'? He's never heard of it before, but if Kyoko wants him to remember it, then... "Sure, I'll try to remember." he says.

"Thank you. I'll wash the dishes, you can go ahead and go to bed. You do smell like you've undergone quite a bit of physical labour, so do shower first." she says.

...Dammit! Is she playing with him or is she just clueless?

Regardless of what the answer is, he takes a shower, and waits for Kyoko to join him in bed.

And so, while Kyoko sleeps like a baby holding him, he's kept awake by her comments, and by the fact that he REALLY betrayed her trust. He's lucky she didn't go on another tangent... or worse...

Chapter Text

Well...

That was a very productive day.

She'll admit, she had fun. Makoto is just a fun guy to talk to, as 'ordinary' as he may be. Seriously, she'll never be able to think about his 'ordinary' nature. HEAVY emphasis on the apostrophes. Seriously, how in the world is he 'ordinary'?

Ahem. She's getting carried away. The point is that today was very revealing.

To get the sad news out of the way... They fucked. Probably a lot too, meaning that he's no longer a virgin. He knows his first kiss has LONG been taken by Kyoko, but she's always wished to be his first. She held onto that very faint hope that she's one of those 'saving-for-marriage' types she sometimes hears about, and now it's utterly crushed.

Whatever. At least, IF they ever fuck, he'll be her first. That's good, too. God, she wishes so much for that to be the case...

Alright. Sad news is out of the way. Now onto the genuinely fucking distressing news.

What. The actual fuck. Was that? Everything, from his body language, to his choice of words, was so off that it almost seemed like bad acting.

Like, seriously! This is super fucking wack. When he accidentally insinuated Kyoko was abusive, he tried to overcorrect like crazy. One would think he'd just laugh about his poor choice of words and correct himself, but no, he sounded like he was trying to cover up a lie.

Well, lie might not be accurate. Perhaps trying to make excuses for a belief that's being challenged fits better.

The fact that he's implying that he wouldn't have been here if she wasn't away doesn't paint that nice of a picture either. Does she, like, not allow him to go out for too long?

God, everything about this is literally SO fishy. Just a bit more and it could pass as an actual fish.

She's practically tearing her own hair out at this point. She now has a very strong feeling that Kyoko isn't as good of a partner as she had hoped. She's likely pretty controlling, at the very least.

Yet, she also feels a strange sense of excitement? Kyoko being an awful partner would give Mukuro the chance to drive a wedge between them and save Makoto from Kyoko. She'd have an actual chance with him again. And that... God dammit she knows she's not supposed to think that! Of course she knows! She just can't fucking help it! Everything about this just... It literally sucks ass!

Of course she would this even if Makoto was... fucking gay or something and he's just in there with her to cover it up! She'd do anything for him and his safety, honestly. If push really, really comes to shove, she might even have to break her ten-year streak.

Yet... Fuck, man! A big part of her desire to find out about this is of a more selfish nature, too. She can't just unselfish her desires or anything.

She takes another batch of rice to her mouth. She really doesn't feel like making anything right now, so some plain ol' white rice it is. It's long gotten cold, too. At least it's something to eat. Yet, no matter how much she eats, it's not enough. It's as if the worry just evaporates the food before it gets in her stomach. Several plates of rice just come and go and she still isn't satisfied.

She might as well leave it there before she gets a terrible stomach ache. She heads to bed for now. She takes off everything, and tucks herself in.

---

And she tosses around, trying all sorts of equally uncomfortable sleeping positions. None of them work, of course. Thanks to air conditioning, the air is relaxingly chilly, but she just can't stop worrying. If she didn't meet him that day, she wouldn't have to be worried like this...

...Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts about Makoto. Positive thoughts have a calming effect.

There's not much new that can be said about him, though. Yeah, he's an amazing person and friend, he's adorable, yada yada. What else is new? Oh, next up she's going to point out that there are seven days in a week? Maybe she'll even point out the controversial fact that this country eats a lot of rice, even. Yeah, obvious shit. No need to dwell over that now.

No, this time, she should bring out the proverbial big guns. For example... How would Makoto do in bed? Kyoko probably stayed for more reasons than just his shining personality. Not that she really has standards; the only things she has had inside of her are her fingers and some vaguely phallic objects when she felt like experimenting in Fenrir.

...Yeah, those are comforting, pleasant thoughts. Just because sex with him is very much out of her reach, doesn't mean she can't escape to her fantasies. And boy does she have fantasies out the fucking wazoo right now.

Ahh... A married life with him would suuure be great. He would be the kindest, most supportive husband in history, she's sure. She'd be watching movies with him while they'd cuddle together. Since the movie'd be pretty boring, she would fall asleep in his embrace. At that point, she'd be perfectly content if she passed onto the afterlife then and there.

And then, later on, Makoto would wake him up with a hint of worry. After assuring her she's okay, she will look him in the eyes, and they would know what to do without words. Clothes would be coming off quickly, leaving Makoto to look at her like she's a goddess. He would kiss her body, telling her she looks amazing. Soon enough, he'll lay over her, sliding his cock in and out of her, kissing her all the while. After ordering her to let go of her order-taking tendencies and show initiative, she'd turn around on him, ending up with her laying on him, after which she'll give him the passionate, most loving fucking anyone on this planet has ever received. He'll have the brightest afterglow ever once she's through with him.

Yyyeahhhhh... That's it... That's what she wants... That's what she will strive for...

If she were in a bad romantic comedy, she would snap out of it RIGHT as it got to the good part. And to extend the runtime even further, she would spend a good portion of time after it berating herself for even daring to think about Makoto this way. Thankfully, she isn't in a bad romantic comedy, so her thoughts are allowed to run uninterrupted for as long as she wants them to in the comfort of her own bedroom. And she can go further than just plain ol' vanilla sex. She doesn't have to settle for missionary with the lights off in her own head. She could go for scenarios so extreme that pearl-clutchers would break their hands from the sheer clutching that's going on. She can dream about ALL the positions they could fuck in! ALL the toys they could use!

There would be no unprompted phone calls, no fireworks, no random people opening the door out of nowhere without knocking. This is a no-cockblocking zone.

Another benefit of not being in a bad romcom is that she doesn't have to keep things age-appropriate. Enjoying that freedom, she slides her hands down her body. If that warm feeling didn't already tip her off, now she knows. She's absolutely soaked. Meaning that not only is she going to have to replace the sheets tomorrow, but also, and this probably doesn't need to be said, that she's horny and has an urge to fulfill.

And fulfill that urge she does. Moving her right hand to a certain pink nub after fumbling about with her hand for a few seconds to locate it, she proceeds to give it a lot of attention. She mostly manages to keep her cool, but the occasional whimpers do manage to come out as she keeps rubbing.

Makoto invades her thoughts, having no intention of leaving. She gladly indulges in those thoughts. Makoto being naked. Makoto having loving, tender sex with her. Makoto also having the roughest, most violent sex that a human being has ever had, with Mukuro. Mukuro destroying his pelvis like it's made of plaster on his command. And more. Rational isn't a word she'd use to describe her thoughts, but she'd be lying if she says she hates thinking like this. In fact, it feels really good in conjunction with what she's currently doing.

To have an easier time pretending Makoto is really there, she puts her other hand to her mouth, and puts her fingers in it. She sucks on them softly, like they're Makoto's fingers. She shoves her tongue between them, savouring every last bit of skin. Despite them being their own, she still has that certain strange, comforting feeling of euphoria. It makes her want to roll around and giggle.

Her urges are slowly, yet surely put at ease the longer it goes on. The more she pleasures herself, the more content she is. Since for her, orgasming means having to put up with a sore hand for a while, she eventually puts a stop to it.

She sighs in contentment. That was a really good session just now. Seeing Makoto again has really done wonders...

Once the horniness fades away, however, she realises what she just did. All that fantasising about Makoto, her getting off to him, her even sucking on her fingers, pretending they're Makoto's fingers, just how soaking wet she was - and still is...

She realises that she'll have to go wash herself now! Covered in juices, saliva and sweat... She probably fucking reeks.

Sheets can stay, though. She can do that tomorrow. For now, she'll just flip over the blanket.

The moment she turns on the shower, the worrying thoughts about his relationship come flooding in like vomit out of someone suffering turpentine poisoning. So all of this has been for nothing, then. God dammit.

-MONOKUMA THEATRE-

Curtains rising! Lights blaring! Audience cheering! Monokuma Theatre! Commencing!!!

"We have literature. Books, scrolls, even crude scribbles in the sand. We have film. Movies, TV shows, even flipbooks. We have games. Board games, video games, even VR."

"That, of course, raises one extremely obvious question? What next? Have we reached the end of entertainment? Is there no more room for innovation?"

"My answer? I couldn't care less. I'm a bear, after all! I don't have time for the worries of humans! Of course, you're dying for an actual answer, so I'll just throw my two cents out there. I think that we haven't quite reached the end. Do you think people thought the same when books were invented? 'Oh, this is surely the very end of entertainment! There must be no more after this!' Well, look where we are now. We're in the same situation: We have absolutely NO clue what's next. And honestly, I think we should keep it that way. Life's full of surprises, after all. And surprises are better left unspoiled, I say! ...Though, I do wonder what comes next. Ohh, I'm giddy with excitement!~"

Chapter Text

And so, a week passes. One week since he last saw her. It was a very uneventful week, and Kyoko doesn't seem to have caught onto his... affair. He hates calling it an affair; it's nothing like that. He's not dating Mukuro, he's not kissing her, or doing it with her, he just wants to reconnect with an old friend. Nothing more.

But Kyoko does remain his partner. That means she places her trust in him, which he has broken time and time again. Which she has rightfully gotten angry over. And if he doesn't cover his tracks just right, it'll happen again.

Right now, Kyoko is walking over to the car. She gets in, turns the key, and drives off. Kyoko is gone. He sees her drive off, turning into a corner.

Right. This is good. Kyoko isn't here. Makoto knew she'd be out for another case today, so they agreed to meet up again today. He turns his attention to his bike, just standing there, waiting to take him to Mukuro. His heart beating noticeably, he walks over to the bike...

...until a sudden noise draws his attention. He immediately turns to the source, and sees a man kick a trash can in. Rather violently at that. He... seems a little frustrated, he thinks.

Since the man seems too frustrated to approach, he decides to keep to himself. However, now that he looks in his direction, he sees something entirely different! Something familiar.

That familiar thing ends up parking itself in their spot. And as it stands still, Kyoko comes stepping out.

"Forgot something." she says, somewhat hurriedly entering their home. Saying as little as possible, if at all... Classic Kyoko. He doesn't exactly hate it, that much he knows for certain. But damn it if it didn't get in his way just now!

He hangs around the entrance, hoping for Kyoko to make it quick. On that note, something about it seems a little... uncharacteristic of her. She's not the type to forget, especially involving cases she's working on. So for her to just... forget... and at such a convenient time... No, that would be insane. There is no way she knows. All she has is a light suspicion, at most. Even if not perfectly, he covered his tracks. Besides, she's as human as him. Even she would eventually make such a mistake. There were times where she just screwed up, even if they're rather few and far between. So she doesn't know. He-

And then the door opens, Kyoko walks out, leaves the door open for him, gets in the car, and drives off once again. He notes that if she forgot something, it must be small. She didn't carry anything noticeable, after all.

He waits a few minutes, anxiously making sure she won't come back. His foot bounces as he waits and waits, stands still with energy waiting to be released.

With a deep, persistent, unpleasant feeling, he looks over to his bike. His ticket out of here. Hypothetically, he COULD just take it, get outta here and never come back. But he has no real reason to. He has a home to return to where he is usually loved. He just needs something else for a change.

He then takes a closer look at his bike. And then at his surroundings.

There is dirt everywhere around it. A subtle layer of dirt that wasn't there yesterday. He feels like that's somehow important.

...Wait. If he just drives off, it'll leave a trail. And knowing Kyoko, if she took photos of the dirt around it, she'd quickly be able to catch on. Wait, why in the world is he assuming that she'd just do something like this? She's surely not THAT.. thorough, right? No way. She wouldn't do something like this.

Yet, there's a weird patch of dirt around the bike. In a way that suggests that it was strewn around by someone.

If she did that, though, it'd be pretty understandable. She doesn't like it when he's away for too long. She likes it even less when he's away without her knowledge. It gets her assuming the wrong things. He'd very much like to prevent that. Otherwise, there could be some real nasty consequences.

Fortunately, this is one way that marrying a Kirigiri has paid off. If he didn't know her for over ten years, he probably wouldn't have noticed. She's definitely rubbing off on him, it seems. And it also seems like he did the same to her. She's definitely more cheerful compared to how she used to be. It's not necessarily night and day, but hey, it's something.

It's also not that hard to just step over the dirt. He doesn't even have to jump over, he can just take a big step and lift his bike over. So, in fact, he proceeds to do just that. He takes a big step over the dirt, and lifts his bike over to the other side, where he could actually use it without setting off potential alarm bells in the future.

It then turns out that he doesn't have his bike key. Whoops. Now he has to go all the way back to the bedroom. The prospect of having to walk all the way back seems a little daunting to him, so he puts it off for a minute, before realising that he's not gonna get anywhere if he just stands around doing nothing. With that in mind, he makes his way over to where his keys lie.

He then makes the realisation that Kyoko could have taken a picture of his keys also. If it changed position, she'd be sure to notice! Now, while he could just come back later and make up some non-verbal excuse for why the key moved, his best bet is to take a few photos of his keys laying on the desk. That way, he could recreate its original position faithfully if he comes back. It probably won't be perfect, but it could probably fool even Kyoko. At most, she'd think something hit it or something.

...Why does he keep assuming that she'd do something like this? Sure, she can be somewhat... controlling. He'll admit that. But it's because she loves him. She doesn't want him to get hurt. She'd never go THIS far! It's like he doesn't trust her, sneaking around like this. There should be no reason to be afraid of her, she's emphasised that much more times than he can count.

He looks around after that thought, looking for her. Despite her not returning until tonight, he can still somehow feel her presence. Maybe it's her faint scent or something. It could also be the fact that it's their bedroom. He'd expect her to be in here, at least.

...That's most likely it. That's the conclusion he comes to after taking the photos and taking the key.

He keeps trying to look for a potential Kyoko to catch him as he makes his way out. There's really no reason to be so... paranoid. And yet, he's acting like her catching him in the act could spell disaster for him or something. It's stupid. Utterly irrational. Dumb, even. But then again, a lot of things are irrational. A lot of phobias aren't rooted in rational thought. So how is this any different? If he gets caught, worst case scenario, he gets put through the wringer and they forget about it the next day. Best case scenario, she'll just be disappointed.

So, really. He shouldn't fear her. That's just unhealthy. He sticks the key in the lock, itching to get on towards Mukuro. He can't help but think about her as a safe space. A sanctuary, even. Something about her seems comforting. Even knowing about her gruelling past and the things she did for an ultimately fruitless cause, he just feels comfortable around her. It's a type of comfort that wants to envelop him forever. Like a fire on a cold night.

He climbs on, and he bikes away. A strange tension wells up in him. What if she returns again? She could've forgotten something else. It'd be strange if she did, but after what happened, it's not off the table. And it's a relentless feeling. It almost makes him nauseous. It almost makes him want to go there and never return again. That's probably what he would've done if he didn't have a wife to attend to. And also if Mukuro'd actually allow it.

Would she really be the type of person to just casually allow him to live there? Last time he checked, the whole place was practically made for one person to live there. So even if she did, she'd have to change a lot of things.

Wait, why is he even considering this? Why is he only now realising how bad those thoughts are? Yet, he can't deny that he feels himself attracted to the strange sense of comfort she brings. A type that Kyoko somehow can't offer. Maybe it's because...

Maybe he just doesn't have to worry as much. That could be at least one reason for it. Like it or not, Kyoko is a strict person towards everyone. She doesn't mince words, she doesn't spare anyone's feelings. Not even his. Sometimes not even hers. And it has definitely helped him if he has learned to be more perceptive thanks to her. Regardless of... ANYTHING, really, Kyoko has positively affected him. Even now, after over a decade, she's still a plentiful source of happiness for him.

So he really shouldn't be thinking about running away! She loves him! How would she feel if he just disappeared one day? She would be worried sick, that's for sure. So he really shouldn't run away. So he really shouldn't be doing this. Just in case she comes back for some reason and finds him absent.

For some reason, his body won't listen. His legs keep paddling, his arms keep clinging to the handlebars.

And it refuses to listen for long enough for him to already have parked his bike by her house.

...Might as well. He knocks on the front door, waiting for a few seconds. And the door opens... slowly.

"Halt, mortal." someone says, peeking from behind the door. Probably some ancient deity. Or more accurately, Mukuro with a lower pitched voice, as if trying to sound like a man. "To enter, you must give me something."

"What do I have to give?" he asks, playing along.

That person steps outside, and to the surprise of very few, revealing herself to be none other than Mukuro. She faces him, her cheeks slightly flushed.

"To enter, you must give me a..." she looks him in the eyes... well, tries to. "A... a... uhh... k... k..."

She grows completely red. He looks at her, confused.

"Fuck it, it was worth a a shot!" she exclaims, abandoning her faux male voice. "Come in." she says, walking inside, quickly muttering under her breath, "It'd be wrong anyway..."

"What would be wrong?" he asks.

She doesn't turn around, "You're literally married to the world's best detective! You can figure this out, Mr Kirigiri!"

"Wait, can I?"

"Just come in! ...You're still a Naegi to me, though..."

Chapter Text

Yup, he's still Naegi to her. Calling him Kirigiri felt wrong somehow. Like the name just doesn't fit him. He doesn't seem like the type of guy who likes to cut through ANY sort of proverbial fog! That's definitely more Kyoko's thing.

At least she can still call him Makoto while he's here.

They sit next to each other on the couch, reminding her of the last time they were here. They had a lot of conversations on this very couch, some less pleasant than others. She hopes for a million more.

"So..." she attempts to start the conversation, "How've you been? Has Kyoko been treating you well?" she asks. A little prodding can never hurt.

"We've... been okay. Nothing much has happened. Besides some difficulties with my bike."

"Oh? Tell me more."

"Well you see, Kyoko doesn't like it when I'm out for too long. It worries her a lot... I guess most of us would never expect her to feel worry, but here we are, right? Heh heh..." he laughs, though she can't bring herself to laugh with him. "That... wasn't funny. Anyway, my bike, it... I found dirt strewn across it."

"Wait, that's a problem?"

"I, uhh..." he scratches his cheek, "No, not really. I guess I just... I was just overthinking, huh? Don't worry about it."

"Uhh, hello? I'm definitely gonna worry about it!?" she says, looking at him seriously.

"Look, just... drop it, okay? Let's change the subject. It's embarrassing."

"Well, okay then..." she says, trying to think of something else. "Hey, actually... Ever heard of the Makoto Fan Club?"

"Wait, I have a fan club?" he asks, seemingly confused.

"Had. Remember, back at Hope's Peak, with the whole Reserve Course thing? The girls loved you!" she smirks, "ES-PECIALLY the Reserve course girls. Oh, love wouldn't even begin to describe what they felt for you. It was more like... an obsession."

He grows a cute blush upon processing that information. Ha, he really had no idea! ...He's better off for it, though. She'll try to keep to the more tame incidents.

"An obsession?"

"Yeah, it got real violent sometimes. There was this one girl, you see. She was, like, LITERALLY on the fucking VERGE of talking with you. From what I heard, she was actually one of the more tame members."

"W-Wait, people got violent over me? I mean, sure, a couple broke up over me, I guess I can get THAT, but..."

"Yup! Reserve Course was batshit insane. And it probably still is. Anyway, there was this OTHER girl, and she was mad at this girl for getting close to you. So what did she do? She punched that girl in the face! She kept on beating her to a pulp. In the end, she was left a bloody mess... Well, that's what I heard."

Makoto looks at her, his eyes wide and his mouth agape in shock, with a hand covering it. She immediately regrets telling him that story.

"R-Right. I, uhh... I'm sorry. I just... Well, that's how the-"

"No, no, it's fine. I'm not mad at you, I'm just mad at that girl!" he says, his voice suddenly growing more passionate. "Who did she think she was to beat someone up over me? Did she actually think I'd LOVE someone like that? No! I would like to maybe be friends with her and teach her to not do that again, but love? No... Not happening. Ever... probably."

"Classic Makoto... Always seeing the best in someone." she giggles. "I like that about you."

"I can't help it. It's how I'm wired, you see. Also, thanks."

Well, that completely flew over his head. It was worth a shot, at least.

"Well, uhh, if you wanna hear more - and I don't think you want to - just ask me," she says, hoping he doesn't ask. It's weird to think of him as a pure, innocent being that must be protected, but he wouldn't like hearing about all the awful things people have done in his name. No one would.

"I'm... I'm good," he laughs. "I'm sure they meant well, but... Y-Yeah, another time."

"Yeah..." she thinks about something new to say, "...Hey, how about we turn you into a real man?"

"A real man...?" he asks, his curiosity apparent.

"I mean, like, you've always had the same... ahem, vocabulary. Let's expand that little palate of yours, won't we?" she says, only now realising how weirdly suggestive that came out.

"...Sure?"

"Oh right, you know what sex is now and how to say it, so let's get you a level higher. How about you say fuck?" she says. He stares at her for a few seconds with a strange look of disbelief...

"Fuck."

"...Wait, what?" she says in confusion. This... This wasn't supposed to...

He laughs, "I can actually swear just fine, Mukuro. I just don't like doing it."

"Oh. Uhh, that..." she pauses for a moment, "That, like... sounded totally, ridiculously wrong! It's like... It's just wrong, okay? Illegal!"

"I-Is this really how people see me?" he asks.

"It's, like, your fault for being cute, I guess. If you just pulled out a gun on me, I probably wouldn't be... Well, you know, apart from... you know. But I wouldn't be intimidated at all! I mean..." she reaches a hand out to Makoto's cheek, "Pinch pinch! Hahaha! Look, you even close your eyes and smile! You'd be awful at being threatening!"

"Stop iiiiit..." he mumbles cutely.

"There, see? Look. you're even blushing!"

"No, I'm... Let's just... change the subject, please?"

...And once again, it missed him. Gosh, everything she's read about men really is true. They suck at getting hints.

...Or maybe he does get it and this is a subtle way of putting his foot down on the ground and saying no. Which makes her come to the realisation that she has just knowingly flirted with a married man. Which, even if Kyoko is as much of a bitch as Mukuro thinks she is, that... She hates that it feels right, somehow...

Perhaps she's overthinking. Kyoko has always been someone she's jealous of, after all. The early bird. That's what Mukuro has considered her for all these years. It's petty and shallow, but that's what she is to her. She knows it's petty and shallow, but that doesn't prevent those thoughts from turning into something much more serious. Now that she thinks about it... has all of this been an excuse? If she digs up dirt on Kyoko, she'd have an actual reason to dislike her beyond her getting the cute boy and not Mukuro. She'd have a morally valid way of stealing Makoto from her.

But she really can't deny that Kyoko is questionable as fuck. She's like the butler in a murder mystery... even if it's almost never actually the butler. The signs Makoto showed ARE real.

"So, Makoto, do you, uhh..." she trails off. Quick, think of a subject! "Do you have any, movies, you like?"

For now, she can avoid the hard questions. She can just keep enjoying his presence.

"Uhh... I don't know. Just, whatever's popular." he says. It might be her imagination... but he seems more uneasy, somehow. Maybe he doesn't realise it.

"I... literally don't have, like, much of a taste in movies, actually... How about we just talk more?"

"Ahaha, yeah, uhh..." he trails off, laughing. His face turns pale. "Let's... uhh... actually..."

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"I..." he takes a deep breath, "...have to go. Sorry."

...The fuck?

"Wait, why? What's wrong?"

"I-It's nothing! I..." he looks away, getting off the couch, "I forgot something."

"Forgot... Forgot what? Why are you so- What's so important?" she asks, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"It's... embarrassing. I'm sorry, I don't want to tell you right now. But I really have to go! Otherwise, Kyoko... She'll..."

Her pupils shrink and her eyes grow wide, "What the fuck? What's Kyoko gonna do?"

Makoto quickly makes his way to the front door and turns the handle. Mukuro tries to run after him, "Hey, answer me! What's Kyoko got to do with this? What's she going to do?"

...but before she gets to him, the door is already closed. So she throws the door open, the handle creating a small dent in the wall. She sees Makoto getting on his bike, frantically paddling away. His face displays not one positive emotion.

And Mukuro is just left there. The sun still shines bright. It almost burns her eyes.

It looks like she'll have to get to those hard questions now.

-MONOKUMA THEATRE-

Curtains rising! Lights blaring! Audience cheering! Monokuma Theatre! Commencing!!!

"We all love music, right? We love to move our bodies to it; some even do 'it' to it! Ahh, how lewd~"

"But think about it. Music sounds fine to us. What does it sound like to other animals? is it just a bunch of white noise to them? While we happily dance to music, do they, perhaps, hear a whole bunchs nothing?"

"Actually, what would count as music to them? Perhaps there are sounds that we find unbearable that are actually music to the ears of other animals! See what I did there?"

"What counts as music for me, you ask?" he says, covering his mouth with his hand, "Well, I sure love the sound of kudos and comments. Oh, and bookmarks. Gosh, bookmarks practically make my innocent batter come out..."

Chapter Text

Dammit dammit dammit dammit dammit dammit dammit dammit dammit dammit!

That's the one word on his mind right now as he bikes home as fast as he can. He grows tired and his legs are starting to sting in agony as he pushes himself past his limits. This isn't something Kyoko would forget. If he reminded her, she'd have made room in her schedule and postponed the investigation a little. They could've gone to watch the... He can't remember the name of the movie anymore.

He eventually gets home. He's about to put it back in its usual spot, but he violently squeezes the breaks when he remembers. He lifts the bike up and carries it over the dirt.

He then runs to the door, desperately opening it and locking it behind him. Mere seconds after he does, he hears it. The car. That distinct sound that instantly tips it off. Kyoko came. She didn't have as much business as she claimed? Was that a lie? If so, coming early was an amazing idea.

Wait, if she's here, then...

DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT DAMMIT he forgot to put the key back on the table! He hurries up the stairs like he's seeing smoke, without a regard for how horribly loud his footsteps must be. He almost trips on the stairs several times. He makes his way over to the bedroom, and he puts the key back. But it has to be in that exact position, or else...! He checks his phone.

The battery ran out. He grows pale at the sight. He can hear the lock clicking downstairs, prompting him to jam the charger into his phone, hoping beyond even the faintest hope that he can recreate the exact position of the keys just in case. If he doesn't, Kyoko will find out. Kyoko will-

"MAKOTO!" Kyoko yells from downstairs. "Come here!"

Makoto is frozen in place. Oh God what should he do what should he do. Why did he do this? Why did he just HAVE to go over to Mukuro's? WHY in the world did he just HAVE to forget about the movie that he said he would remember for her?

"Come downstairs! We have to talk!"

"I'm coming!" he yells, his voice shaky. He looks over to his phone, which is showing no signs of waking up any time soon. He'll have to wait for it to charge. But going to Kyoko is just...

He faces reality. If he doesn't, there'll be worse consequences. He opens the door, trying his best to not throw it open, and-

"WAAH!!!"

The sight of Kyoko at the threshold sends him reeling backwards, making his heart pound so fast he's worried he'll have a heart attack.

"Am I that scary?" Kyoko asks, her voice carrying a certain icy tone, unlike what Kyoko usually sounds like. Even for high school Kyoko, this was rare. And that glare of hers makes him want to just look away.

"Let's go. Come downstairs." she says, unceremoniously walking away, clearly expecting him to follow. "I won't bite."

He hesitantly follows after her, every step feeling like he's forced to carry a statue. The trip downstairs feels like he's descending into a dungeon.

Kyoko points towards a couch. "Sit."

He sits. He forces himself to breathe slowly, bracing himself for the disaster about to strike.

"You promised me, didn't you?" she says. "You promised me to remember the movie I wanted to watch."

"Y-yes." he mumbles.

She checks her phone. "It's three o'clock. At this point, the movie has already started. We could easily make it over now, but considering the fact that traffic is pretty intense right now, I'm not optimistic about ever getting to reach the theatre before the movie ends."

He takes the information in.

"Really, I looked forward to this, Makoto. I wanted to do something with you for once. And here you are, ruining it for me. Why? I trusted you, Makoto."

...

Kyoko's glare turns icier, and she approaches Makoto, almost making him crawl backwards. "I trusted you to remember, and you didn't. Answer me. Why?"

"I..." he starts, trying to come up with a good excuse beyond...

"I-I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to!"

She takes a step further. "You always say that. Tell me. Why... would I believe a single word coming out of your stupid mouth?"

"S-Stupid...?"

Her glare turns more intense. "I expected more from you. You could've just told me to remember the movie, and this could've all been avoided. I'm sorry for doing this, I really am, but what use do I really have for you now? Could I trust you with anything? Could I trust you to do chores around the house next week? Could I trust you to not do anything rash unsupervised? Could I even trust you with yourself?"

A tear slips down Makoto's cheek. Kyoko looks at it as if it's the most pathetic thing she's ever experienced.

"There it is. Those stupid crocodile tears of yours. Do you seriously expect me to fall for that?"

"No."

"Then why are you crying? You're a man, right? Act like one... I know you won't just listen to me. How many times have we had this exact, same, stupid argument again?"

"A... A thousand times?"

"Probably more. And, look. I hate this as much as you do. I really don't want to be tough on you like this. So-"

"THEN WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?" Makoto shouts. "Why... Why... What... Why don't you just- GYAAHH!!!!!"

Time appears to slow down for Makoto, as one swift punch to the face throws him off the couch. He lands on one of his shoulder blades. He caresses it with his hands, inhaling sharply through his teeth to try and ease the burning, agonising sensation. He starts crying.

"Don't interrupt me." she says quietly. "I really should've known you'd be so horribly unreliable. First you forget something, now this? What a joke. And now you're lying on the ground as if I ripped your arm off."

Makoto tries to think of something to say, but his sharp inhales prevent him from thinking of anything.

"Now that I think about it, I guess we should go do just that. Maybe that ought to teach you a lesson. Come here." she says. "What, it was just a light smack. Why are you crying? Now come on, let me..."

His flight instincts kick in in full force, and he almost slips on the ground trying to make a run for it. Not anywhere in particular, just away from her. In his panic, he hits a dead end, and Kyoko approaches him. He waves a hand in front of her, trying to keep her away from him, "No, no, wait! Wait! I, I'm sorry! I, I, I, please don't hurt me, Kyoko! Please! Don't... don't..."

"Calm down." she says.

"Hm?"

"Let me tell you a secret. I lied about wanting to go see The Kiss from A Leaf. It was merely a test to see if you could be trusted with promises. And you failed that test. That's all. If you hadn't lashed out like that, I wouldn't have had to teach you a lesson. Besides... I'm sorry too, Makoto. I know I shouldn't have lashed out like that. I didn't mean any of that, okay?"

Slowly, Makoto starts to lower his guard, and it's as if Kyoko has visually brightened up. "If that hurt, I really apologise. Let's get you an ice pack."

"I... okay..."

---

"Hey, Makoto." Kyoko asks Makoto. They're both in bed, night has struck. "I just thought of a really funny joke."

"Shoot." he says casually, trying to keep an ice pack firmly lodged underneath his shoulder blade. The pain still hasn't let up...

"What is a skeleton's favourite instrument?"

"Uhh... the trombone?" he says.

She giggles adorably, "No, silly. They don't have lungs. No, their favourite instrument is the xylobone."

That makes Makoto howl in laughter. That's one of the worst jokes he's ever heard. He's sure he's suffering psychic damage from that joke.

"I guess I'm more of a comedic genius than others peg me for, huh?"

"Yeah. You can be hilarious sometimes." he says, looking at her with a smile.

"Hey, speaking about pegging... how about it?"

"P-Pegging?"

"Remember the package that was sent last month? That was a strap-on that I ordered in secret. And now, I've found the perfect way to tell you about it."

"Wait," he processes the situation, "So that really awful joke,"

"You laughed."

"Because it sucked. So that was just a way to lead into asking if you could peg me?"

"Hey, it could've been worse. I could've used the word 'bone' to lead into me asking to bone you, couldn't I? I'm mad I didn't think of this sooner."

He laughs, "Oh, screw you, Kyoko. But sure, let's do that someday. It could be fun."

"I do look forward to seeing you reduced to a drooling, moaning mess."

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh yeah okay. Sure, yeah. Me, uhh... me too. By... By the way, and I'm really sorry for asking, but where were you? I thought you'd be gone all..."

"That was a lie, obviously. I just drove around town. I even went by and got some chocolates... though they're still in the car. Let's hope they haven't molten already."

Oh. Of course. That explains why she got here so early.

"Why don't we get the chocolates now?" he asks.

Kyoko, in response, grabs hold of his body by his torso, "Nooo, I need cuddles... Let's get them tomorrow."

"From asking to peg me to asking for cuddles... You're one adorable girl, Kyoko," Makoto says, giving her a pat on the head.

"You're so mean!" Kyoko says in an obviously fake voice, "I now want you to say you love me. Hmm, come on!"

"Alright, only for Kyoko," he laughs, "I love you, Kyoko."

"..."

...She has already fallen asleep.

Chapter Text

The students walk by as the day ends. Among them are the boring old jealousy-ridden Reserve Course students clad in black. Among them are the ever-prestigious Main Course students clad in brown. While the Main Course students are an inspiration to Tomoko, none of these students particularly interest her.

Except for one person. The 78th class's Ultimate Lucky Student, Makoto Naegi. If one hears about just how average he is, they'd actually not hear enough. He's the average among the average. The plainest, most uninteresting needle in a haystack. The living manifestation of the taste of water.

For many Reserve course students, he's a source of great jealousy. Those who want to be in his place find it in them to try and bring him down to their level. While Tomoko prefers not to morally grandstand too much, she can't deny that she sees herself as better than those pathetic excuses for human beings. To try and undermine him because of mere jealousy. It disgusts her.

And that is why she, Tomoko Nichikawa, is a proud member of the Makoto Fan Club. It's the best place in the Reserve Course. A place all about the best student in the academy, bar none.

He might be average, but he's more than that. He's hope given human form. Any time someone is in trouble, he'll be there to try and help. He might not be the most academically gifted, but he doesn't need to be. As long as he keeps being the adorable, shining, radiant ball of happiness that he is, he'll continue to have a club to his name. If there's one thing he won, it's certainly the genetic lottery. Just, in her humble opinion.

And now. Now, the day of truth. This will decide her later self-worth. If this fails, she will have no more reason to live. If his luck rejects her, she will give herself a fate she deserves in Makoto's name. Either his luck accepts him and he loves her, or his luck rejects her and he doesn't. The consequences either actions would bring make her equally giddy. That's not a mindset that's all that common among the exponentially growing Makoto Fan Club, but for his sake, she can't help but hope.

Literal metres away from her stands the object of her affection. In her hands is a love letter. Now, she'll have to deliver this. She's close. She just has to take a few steps. She just has to-

Before she can say anything, she gets dragged off by her collar by someone. And then, into a classroom. The shock renders her completely silent. What elicits a yelp from her, however, is the intense punch in the face she promptly suffers. She lies on the ground in pain. In burning, roaring pain. She looks up at her attacker - it's another Makoto Fan Club member. She must have seen her...

She instinctively curls up into herself to protect herself from the flurry of kicks and punches to the stomach. And to the thighs. And to the face. And to the throat. It's like being submerged in boiling oil. Yet, she allows her attacker to keep going. This must have been the product of Makoto's luck - it rejected him.

Long after her attacker has left the room, left her to bleed out, she laughs. As if she just got a warm, comforting hug.

The next day, she finds herself far from Hope's Peak. She looks onwards at the horizon, the sun shining radiantly, the clouds threatening to cover it up. It's almost about to rain. No one should be here. She sighs, and recites what she practised at home.

"Makoto, I will be there to service you after I depart from this world. May my sacrifice fuel your hope. I love you."

After that, showing only a little hesitation, she looks down, seeing the waves crash far, far down. With a sweet smile, she turns around. And then, she tips her body slightly backwards, allowing it to fail to balance itself. And then...

She falls. She assumes she won't reach terminal velocity, but she falls. Despite her imminent fate, she's happy. Happy to play the role of sacrifice. Happy to dedicate her life t

Chapter Text

Being a Reserve Course student is tough. That's what he has learned during his stay at Hope's Peak. There's this constant, oppressive feeling of inadequacy that permeates every corner of the academy. It's as if he's in a cult of Main Course followers. This is the feeling that Shiro Sawaguchi, a boy of short stature with black, somewhat spiky hair, has felt.

That's not the worst of it, though. There's another, even worse issue. Namely, his sexuality. He doesn't like girls. Well, that sounds a little misogynistic. He has a sister he dearly loves. He likes women, he just doesn't like them. That award has to go to men.

Ever since he was a kid, he has never felt much when looking at girls. They were always nothing more than regular people to him. However, he's often caught himself staring at a guy for too long. Checking out his body, listening to his voice, having weird fantasies about him. From the moment it got drilled into him that love between a boy and a girl is normal, he knew that what he had wasn't normal to others.

And he really feels it here. It seems to him that his sexuality is, at best, a fetish for the girls. At worst, something to laugh at. That's why he has never come out about it.

That changes now.

He takes a deep breath as he asks the leader of the Makoto Fan Club. Yup, a fan club for Makoto of all people. He might be ordinary, but that's probably a good thing. He feels more down to earth. More humble, even. His appearance is adorably boyish in all the right ways, too. In a way, he's an ideal partner for him. This could be a start to learn to be more open about his sexuality.

"So you wanna apply to be a Makoto Fan Club member?" she asks. The leader of the Makoto Fan Club, Anzu Takemoto. Her hair is even somewhat styled in his image - it's brown, with an ahoge on top. It's not an exact match, though - her hair extends a little past her shoulders, and her ahoge is a little droopy, probably held by hair spray. "Well, uhh... This is a first, actually. I never expected a guy to join this club..."

"I guess you didn't, huh." he says, "I... I hope you're okay with it..."

"Oh, it's absolutely no biggie! If even guys can appreciate Makoto for the beauty he is, that's a win in my book!" she says, smiling.

"Wait, so if I was attracted to another man..."

"You'd probably have to look for another club, but I'm fine with it. It'll never hurt me, so..."

"O-Oh. Good, good. That's good."

---

The moment he enters the classroom where the Club is headquartered after school, he notices one thing.

There are quite a bunch of people here. He didn't expect a club about the most ordinary man in the academy to be so full, but just a cursory glance would reveal that he couldn't count everyone inside on two hands. And of course, everyone inside is a girl. And of course, his mere presence garners quite a bit of raised eyebrows.

"Hi! We have a new member! Everyone say hi to Shiro Sawaguchi! ...with the kanji for 'castle'!"

Some reluctant 'hi's are returned. Yup. Not a good start.

"Uhh, girls, he..." she stumbles on her words a little, "...he's also an admirer of Makoto. In fact, he's..." she glances at him with a certain look, and he nods, "He's actually gay. He's not here to hit on any of you, so-"

"Ah, gross! Get out of here!" a girl yells, looking up from a shirt she is in the middle of sewing.

"Kobayashi!" the leader, Anzu, shouts with a decidedly hefty amount of force. "Behave yourself!"

"No, she's got a point!" another girl interjects. "What's a gay doing here?"

"...I'll make it simple, then." she says. She puts on a smile, and says in a sweet voice, "Pick on him for his sexuality once and you're out of here."

The previous girl gulps and stares at her in shock. A bunch more girls suddenly look more uneasy.

Kobayashi tries to say something, "B-But-"

"This is your first and final warning. Be nice. To him."

Everyone in the classroom gives off a look of reluctance. Anzu looks at Shiro, "I'm sorry about them. If you feel uncomfortable, you can leave if you want..."

"N-No." he says, "I'll get used to it. I like Makoto, so I want to try. Maybe I could change some of their minds."

"I hope you can. Now, hang on. Let me just..." she retrieves a pen from a drawer, and scrawls an additional rule under a list of rules - all of which were printed out instead of written down. "There we go. Oh, these are the rules, go read them."

He should probably just read the rules, then.

"Rules for the Makoto Fan Club," he reads out loud, "One, you have to be in love with Makoto to join. Two, keep fighting to a minimum. Three-"

"Shut up! Who are you talking to?" the same girl from before yells. Not Kobayashi, the other one.

"I-I'm not talking to anyone! I'm reading out loud."

"Don't do that, then! It pisses me off."

"...Alright."

"Three," he says in a whispery voice, "You must contribute to Makoto to stay in the club." he finishes. That's... vague, but alright. He could get a general idea of what this rule means just from looking around; everyone around him is related to Makoto somehow. Pictures of him, drawings of him, recreations of his attire, his name in beautiful calligraphy, pictures of him edited into memes, etcetera. In short, a lot of Makoto.

"Four, no putting down anyone else for Makoto's sake." he says. He notices that this rule is underlined with a red pen. Several exclamation marks have been drawn at the end. There's also a big arrow pointing to it.

And finally, the last rule, "Five, making fun of someone for their sexuality will get you banned from the club." he says. Somehow, saying that feels pleasant. At least there's someone here who doesn't care about who he loves.

That, sadly, leaves the rest of the club. He already feels like a black sheep of sorts. It's like being locked up in a sauna.

"By the way," Anzu says, "Since this is a fanclub about Makoto, you'll want to get started with contributing to Makoto... I know that sounds vague and very cult-like, but I assure you we're no cult!" she says. "Well, I wouldn't want it to be..."

He squints his eyes. Highly concerning choice of words, that. "Could you explain?" he asks.

"Simple! Just make something relating to Makoto. Drawings, poems, stories, photos, it doesn't matter."

"Photos?"

"Uhh, make sure you get them consensually." she says.

He looks at the walls again. He notices that most of them are just him cropped out of group photos, or photos taken for public use. A part of him can't help but feel like there would be way more photos had consent not been required.

"Alright. I think... I wanna draw something." he says. "I'm not really that good of an artist, but I could... try, I guess. Uhh, can I sit down somewhere?"

Anzu points to an empty chair, separated from the others. "You can sit there if you'd like. Now, I'll get you some supplies. Hang on a sec, okay?"

"Alright, alright. Thank you." he says, hesitantly sitting down on that chair.

Anzu is about to leave, before turning around at the door, saying "Remember the new rule," and then leaving. And now he finds himself alone in a classroom full of girls that all hate him. And another thing hits him: the smell. Anzu's perfume seemed to hide it, but this place...! The smell of sweat, deodorant and something strangely fish-like blankets the room in a nauseating fashion. It's the most concentrated he has ever experienced it. And the windows are wide open, for crying out loud!

When he finally has his guard down somewhat, someone approaches him, "Hey."

He turns around to see this Kobayashi girl. Tall, with blonde hair, and a rather shoddy ahoge. Her hair is also tied into braids. The smell intensifies with her presence. "I'm sorry about earlier. I just..." she looks away, "I've just never seen a gay person before in my life. You just surprised me."

He squints at her.

"What?" she says defensively, "I apologised, okay? I just think you're interesting! Aren't men supposed to be... you know, all over women? Isn't the penis supposed to... go into the vagina to make babies or something? Do you just never feel that urge? Like? I'm curious here, okay?"

"Uhh... No, I don't particularly want to have kids, I guess. And vaginas are just... Well, among a bunch of things, they're harder to draw."

"Ahaha, that's true. But, I mean... you never wish to be different?"

"No. I like what I am. I never felt anything with girls. I don't think that'll ever change."

She looks at him with confusion. She decides to sit down next to him, "So, lemme get this straight. You don't feel a single thing for girls? Nothing? Absolutely nothing at all?"

"No."

"So when a girl strips naked in front of you and displays her assets for you to see, would you not..."

"That's sexual harassment."

"...Assuming you ask for it," she clarifies with obvious annoyance, "Would your... penis, just... not go up at all?"

"Probably not."

"Okay, so, if it was a MAN, who stripped naked in front of you..."

"That's also-"

"Assuming you ASK for it, would you...?"

"Depends. I like boyish types more. And Makoto fits perfectly," he says, blushing. "I mean, wouldn't that be a good thing for you? To see the same gender appreciate his beauty, or something?"

"...Why are you saying that like we're some sorta cult?" she asks. He looks around the room, finding silence to be the best move. "Nevermind, then. Uhh, I guess... I guess that's probably... right? Maybe? I don't know, this is just... new. To me. To everyone here."

"Well, Takemoto did say that she found it a good thing, so... hey, speaking about names, you're Kobayashi, right? What's your full name?"

"Sara Kobayashi. And you're, uhh... Shiro Sawaguchi, right? With the kanji for castle. So if I write it like this..." she explains, using a pen to write his name on the table. She writes it as 沢口城, "That's good, right?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Okay. Uhh. But... Okay, seriously. You're in a room full of girls. And you-"

"I don't feel anything for anyone here. Could you... please stop asking that?" he says, furrowing his eyebrows a little, "I'm gay, I like men. That will just never change. Even If I want it to," he says, "...Which I don't, by the way."

"...Huh. That's..." she says, "That's... Actually, how did you realise?"

"Uhh... Well, that's a..." he scratches his head, looking away, "...long story. To make it short, I just sorta... knew? Someday? I knew that girls didn't do it for me, while men DID do it for me, and that's... that's that, I guess. I mean, do you know why you're attracted to men?"

"That's..."

A beat goes by. Several more go by. With nothing to concentrate on, the smell permeating the whole classroom hits him once again. Seriously, have any of those girls touched a shower in their entire lives? It's almost a miracle he doesn't feel the urge to vomit.

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to think about that. Uhh... I'm sorry for saying that. Are we, like..." she looks at him, "Cool, now?"

"...Sure. We're cool."

And then, Anzu comes in, hands full of drawing supplies. And upon seeing Kobayashi next to Shiro, she immediately shoots a dirty glare at the girl.

"What?" Kobayashi asks, raising her voice, "I didn't even do anything! We're just chilling!"

"Oh, is that so?" Anzu asks. She smiles, "I guess he's making friends quicker than I thought. That's good. Anyway, here," she says, setting a box of pens and pencils on the table, along with a stack of A4 paper. "If you need help. Come ask me! I'm quite good at-"

"Your art's fucking dogshit, Anzu," Kobayashi says, turning to the boy, "Shiro, don't listen to her. If you need help, ask... LITERALLY anyone else here!"

"If you say so, then-"

"And would anyone want to help him?" Anzu asks, waiting for a response. Kobayashi looks at her with an expression of what seems to be concession, "Exactly. Now, Shiro, you need any pointers?"

"No, I'm good."

"Okay, good. Have fun drawing."

-TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2-

Chapter Text

Here she is. Here Sayuki Nakashima is. A batch of lovely, homemade chocolate chip cookies in her hand, encased in a small bag. With a nice surprise that she's sure will absolutely win him over. All she has to do is to make sure that the cookies make it over to Makoto, and she'll be golden. One taste of her imbued monthly essence and he'll be head over heels for her as she is for him. She rubs her thighs together at the mere thought. Haa, this will be the best day of her life...!

Now, she'll just have to wait for Makoto. He'll be over at his locker any minute now. He'll come over to the sight of Sayuki with a bag of cookies. She thanks whatever god is out there for making boys so easy. Just show them an ounce of affection and they'll be all over you. So that's what she's gonna do.

...She really needs to go, though. The one day she forgoes peeing in the morning, and it bites her in her ass. Well, whatever. She can take her time with him. She makes her way over to the hallway where the bathroom is located. Feeling the pressure of her bladder increase, she quickens her pace...

...and then she trips on a loose tile, falling head-first on the floor, dropping her bag of cookies.

She rubs her head. It feels like it's throbbing. That must've been a very rough fall... Ah! The cookies! She looks at the bag she dropped. The cookies are spilling out of the bag. Dammiiiiit...

Well, whatever. She can just wipe them off. They are still in proper condition to be eaten by Makoto. She grabs one of the cookies, and... that hope is dashed immediately. They spilled directly onto a stain of ketchup on the floor. And now some of the cookies are coated with ketchup.

...No biggie. She can just throw those away. There are still more cookies left that didn't make it out on the floor. Makoto is a boy with a bright, shining hope. As the one destined to marry him and have his kids, it should only be appropriate that she carries that same hope. So she hurriedly gathers the now useless cookies, and stands up. Gosh, imagine if Makoto walked right over her. What would the soles of his feet feel like to her back? Must be a heavenly sensation...

...She must concentrate. She can't let her fantasies get the better of her. Now, onwards to the bathroom.

---

And so, she let it all out. Now, she's feeling much better about this. She looks at her bag of cookies. It's a little emptier than before. She feels bad about it; now Makoto has way less cookies to enjoy. Oh, well, at least there are still a few left.

Now, all that's left is to wait around here. Makoto will surely be coming any minute now...! -GYA!

Something falls against her, leading to her falling to the floor along with it. She drops her cookies again, some of them spilling out. Fortunately, there are no stains around here, so they're still salvageable.

She turns around, and sees that it's not something that fell against her, but someone. It's... He looks kinda...

"Oh, dear. I, I apologise. Don't mind me!" he says, his voice almost sounding... weirdly saccharine somehow. "Here, let me help you get up," he says, extending his hand out to her. It looks sickly pale, she's hesitant to touch it. He looks like his mere presence would give her an incurable disease... And that hair...! It looks like if she touches it, her hand would be coated in a thick layer of grease. It looks so firmly unbrushed...

Regardless, she accepts his offer. She reaches out her hand, letting him get up. It might help that he looks vaguely reminiscent of Makoto. "Thanks," she says.

"Oh, don't thank me. I don't deserve it," he laughs. He proceeds to go about his day, walking forwards and-

"WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT-"

CRACK

...Oh no. The boy raises his foot to check his sole. On it... are crumbs. And he just so happened to step on them in such a way that his foot covered every single cookie on the ground...

He turns around, "Are they yours?"

"Yeah..." she says, her face drooping. Dangit, now she has even less cookies...

"Oh, I'm sorry, then. But I don't think you should worry," he says with an eerie passion, "I'm sure something good will come of this! A stepping stone like you doesn't need to worry, alright?"

"S-Stepping stone?" she asks incredulously. But he doesn't seem to have heard her, as he just walks away.

...Weirdo.

She promptly picks up her bag of cookies, looking inside. Only... Only three left. She picks up the cookies laying on the ground to throw them in the trash. She tries to keep her head up high. He'll definitely like those cookies, she's sure of it. Just one bite, and she'll beg her for her hand. She'll be able to do whatever she wants with him. As long as she just hands the remaining two cookies to him. She takes a deep breath. She can do this...

"Hey." someone asks behind her, "What are you doing by Makoto's locker?"

She turns around, almost reeling from who it turns out to be. "Kyoko? H-Hi, I'm..."

"If you're gonna make cookies for him, please just use normal, sane ingredients."

"Normal, sane- What do you mean?" she asks angrily.

"What I mean is that you shouldn't use your own period blood," she says, her expression and tone of voice unchanging. "It's frankly rather gross, and more importantly, it's unsanitary."

"Wait, how..." she pauses, "How do you know, Kyoko?"

"You weren't exactly subtle about it in that club you attend. Makoto Fan Club, right?" she says, smirking.

She recoils. Kyoko knows? She's been eavesdropping all along? This... This stupid bitch...! "Well what makes YOU the sole authority on Makoto then, hmm? If he thinks they're gross, that's his own opinion! He's GONNA try them!" she says. Kyoko responds by swiftly reaching in her direction and, with some strength, swiping the bag from her. "H-Hey, give them BACK!"

"These cookies will never be reaching anyone's mouth, I assure you," she says, holding the bag of cookies. She squeezes the bag with her gloved hand, crushing the cookies, and throwing them in a nearby bin, handing her the bag, now empty. "Don't misunderstand. I have nothing against him receiving cookies from others. But cookies with one's period blood is where I draw the line." she says, standing by his locker with a comparably lacking amount of yummy gifts. That is to say, none at all. "Your presence disturbs me. Please leave."

"...Fuck you!" she shouts. Kyoko doesn't respond.

She walks away eventually, saying all manner of expletives and insults under her breath.

She watches from a corner, seeing Makoto walk up to his locker. She can't see Kyoko's face, but she seems just slightly less cold, somehow. Ohohoho, someone has feelings for him, huh. Fucking bitch. Stupid, good-for-nothing whore, throwing away people's perfectly good cookies. She must want to get dicked down by him every day, she bets. Damn retarded fucking slut. Ohh, yes, she must LOVE choking on his dick! Every day, she'd just come crawling to him, begging for even a SCRAP! Heh, stupid Main Course fuckheaded pieces of fucking shit. Come next week, she'll have a fucking tattoo across her face just because Makoto had her get one in exchange for a SINGLE, MINISCULE FUCKING WHIFF of his feet.

She might actually be that fucking pathetic! At least, she likes to think she is...

Chapter Text

"Let's go on a date today."

It was said so suddenly, so completely, utterly, out of nowhere. They were just chilling on the couch together, and then... It startled him quite badly. A date...? Wow. They haven't gone on a proper date in a good while. How long ago was it, since they just went somewhere? Must've been actual years. And for her to just come out with it...

"Sure", he says, somewhat excited. But that excitement seems to be paired with another, uncomfortable feeling... "Where could we go?"

"Nowhere in particular," she says, "We could just walk around and enjoy our surroundings. It certainly has been far too long since last time, hasn't it?"

"I, I agree!" he says, exhaling, "When should we-"

"How about now? The day is still young, after all."

"Well, you know..." he hesitates, "Sure! Sure, why not! Just... why? Is there, like, any reason for it?"

Her expression is unreadable, despite the smile on her face. "I realised that I didn't show you nearly enough affection the past few years. And I want to make up for it. So..." she pats his head gently, squeezing his ahoge with her gloved fingers, "Let's love each other a lot today, alright? Let's be as overly, disgustingly sweet as humanly possible."

He blushes at her choice of words, but... "Kyoko," he laughs, "I think I actually get enough affection. I mean, I probably wouldn't be here if I didn't think that..."

Something inside Kyoko seems to... Well, not shatter, but it's not pleasant.

She doesn't touch on it, though, "Let's dress up for the occasion."

---

After the revelation that Kyoko has prepared some clothes in advance, the two put on their clothes, which are appropriate for the quite warm temperature outside. Makoto's clothes are quite simple. A yellow blazer over a white undershirt, and a pair of blue shorts. There's some clear care put in the choice of clothing, but it's nothing overly sophisticated.

Kyoko wears a bright, purplish dress, her shoulders clearly visible. She wears white, knee-high socks, too. Again, nothing too fancy. Oh, and she wears her signature gloves. Can't forget them.

Of course, she picked bright colours. She said that it reflects more heat than dark clothing one day. That's why their car is white, too. It's a somewhat rattly old model, anyway. It helps not stand out. Any doubts that the date might go wrong somehow, are quelled by this thought process. Of course Kyoko cares about him if she wants him to be as comfortable as possible. It's not like he thought otherwise, but it's reassuring.

And so, they stand outside together, Kyoko's right hand reaching out to his. Just this act helps make it feel more romantic. They begin walking through the neighbourhood, never letting go of each other's hand. He looks at her. She seems genuinely happy, even if her smile is faint. A light blush appears on her cheeks. It makes him happy too, but it also serves as a reminder to not let the day go sour. There could be some major consequences otherwise...

They walk some more, Makoto taking in his surroundings. There are cables hanging around everywhere he looks, a sight he's been used to ever since he could remember. They eventually find a bench by the street, surrounded by trees which cast a shadow over it. It's a metal bench made of grates. "Let's sit there for a while," Kyoko says. Kyoko never lets go of his hand as they take a seat on the bench. It feels nice to sit after walking for a few minutes...

It's funny. They're doing nothing right now. They're just sitting, and doing absolutely nothing. And yet, he wants to keep that way. He feels mostly comfortable like this.

Kyoko likely doesn't intend to go back on her words earlier. So, she leans in on him. She pats his head, she hooks an arm around his body, she kisses his forehead. All while people are walking past them. He can't help but feel like it's a little embarrassing, but it still gives him some much-needed reassurance.

Eventually, forehead kisses are no longer enough for her. She climbs onto his lap, straddling him. She looks at him with a self-assured smile. Looking just past her, he can see people giving the pair weird looks. He assumes Kyoko knows this would happen, but to see her just not care like this... It's actually kinda hot, somehow. She presses her own body against his, hard, and firmly latches her lips on his. And before he knows it, her tongue finds itself in his mouth.

The sheer show of dominance she's putting up in such a public space makes him light-headed. He can't help but reciprocate, everyone walking by just being background decoration to him. He'll admit, he does like this. It's not particularly unenjoyable to him. Even after ten years, it feels a little flattering to have someone go so out of his way to do something like this, only because they want to. It sorta feels like he somehow... isn't worth that attention. It doesn't diminish his enjoyment, but it just... feels a little weird...

But it's a weird feeling he likes. Kyoko pulls away from him, letting a small, very obscene trail of their spit hang in the air. She looks behind her, noticing everyone just looking at them, and she smiles at him.

"I remember telling you that we should be as disgustingly sweet as possible, so let's do just that," she says, "Every day since we moved together has been a dream from which I didn't want to wake up. And I'm sure there are many girls who would kill to be in my position. I don't believe that's without good cause."

"There are people like that...?" Makoto asks. Well, he kinda... already knows that from Mukuro, but he decides it's best to feign surprise.

"Of course, you wouldn't have any idea, but people love you. There even used to be a fan club about you. One which I shall not elaborate on, but it existed. And you really do deserve it. You're the kindest, most thoughtful ball of sunshine and happiness there is, Makoto. It's why I fell in love with you all those years ago. It's why I'm still madly in love now." she says, following up all her sweet words with a gentle kiss to the lips. "I'm sorry for not saying it too often, but... I love you, Makoto. I'll never stop loving you."

His head goes blank, and his face practically overheats.. That's simply too many radiant compliments to receive about yourself at once. Of course, he knows that Kyoko loves him, but... It's nice to have more confirmation of that fact, honestly.

"I know that sometimes I might... be a little strict. That's because I want the best for you. But I know that sometimes I can go a little far. So, from now on, if you have any problems - any at all, do not hesitate to tell me, okay? No matter how stupid or petty it is, I'll take it with grace," she says.

"O-Okay! Sure! Uhh... Sure. I'll, uhh... I'll do that."

She pats his head, and kisses him. "That's great to hear. Now, I think we've had enough time sitting here. Let's go and walk some more. I'll carry you, okay?"

"Wait, you're gonna carry me?"

"Yes."

"...Why?"

"I want to. Now, sit still. We still have a whole day ahead of us that happens to be left unfilled with compliments. Let's change that."

---

How long has it been since this began? He'll admit, being bridal carried by Kyoko is fun. He likes not having to walk, but good lord! How long can this woman go on for? Does she just not get tired? He knows from experience she's physically strong, but wow!

And all that while Kyoko is showering him with compliments every few seconds. She keeps describing him and how awesome he is in a very prosaic fashion, somehow never running out of anything to say. Combined with the warm weather, it's a comforting feeling, but... Why is Kyoko doing this, exactly...? There's a small, tiny part of him that feels like there's an actual purpose for this. After all, Kyoko isn't usually one for PDA. But here she is now, literally carrying him out in public. Again, he's not complaining, but it's a little weird.

Something else also feels weird about it. It's hard to describe. Yes, he's having fun. He likes that he's constantly being reminded that he's loved. But somehow, having fun is the best way to describe it. Not something more.

The more he thinks about it, the more of a headache he gets.

---

That headache continues well into the night. The room is kept cool with air conditioning. They're laying in bed together, the dark blue sheets bring a comforting, warm sensation. Well, that and Kyoko, who's now practically glued to him like she tends to be.

That really was a pretty fun day. But still! Fun is all he could describe it as, and he can't figure out why!

Kyoko is, of course, long asleep. Makoto is just stuck with his thoughts. How's Mukuro doing, anyhow? It's been about five days since last time he visited her. And it didn't go particularly well. He just... left her hanging. He hasn't even contacted her in all that time.

That changes now. Barely reaching out into his nightstand, he gets ahold of his phone. He decides to message Mukuro now. Trying not to wake Kyoko up, he types in the message and sends it over, 'Hi, how are you?'

To his surprise, she's quick to reply, 'p good. u?'

'I'm doing well. What are you doing, staying up so latr?'

'lare*'

'late*'

'Sorry.'

'making music'

'not to get into details, it's, like, really fucking hard'

'eqing is hard'

'I can imagine.'

'oh don't pretend u even know that an eq is'

'Okay. What is an eq?'

'basicallt its a plugin that u use to cut out frequencies'

'or to emphasise them'

'theres high pass, low pass, band pass'

'u eq a sound when u'

'like'

'whe nu don't want the sound to clash with everything else'

'think of it like'

'uhh'

'so u have a round hole and a square peg'

'the square peg doesn't fit because of the corners'

'so u cut off the corners'

'and now the peg fits'

'thats what it is'

'Interesting!'

'yeah'

'actually u can also use it to strengthen a frequency'

'like when a sound is too quiet but changing the volume brigns all the other bad frequencies up'

'u only bring up the frequencies u want'

'u can also eq a sound to get an entirely different sound'

'thats how a lot of hardcore kicks are made'

'but right now im doing the first thing'

'imean im cutting out freqwuencies'

'did i ramble too much?'

'No. It's fun to hear you talk.'

'ur not hearing me actually talk'

'im typing not talking'

'idiot'

'but thanks'

He smiles. Mukuro really is nice when you let her be...

'btw wanna hangout again?'

...! Mukuro wants to...?

'Yeah, I'd like to.'

'cool. great'

'btw remember gundham?'

'that weirdo from 77b?'

'Yeah, I do. What about him?'

'he works at a zoo, i heard. its not too far away, too'

'from my house its like 11km by bike'

'11 kilometres? That's pretty far.'

'nah it's not that bad. like an hour at most'

'wanna go there someday?'

'Yeah, sounds fun.'

He's gotta admit, Mukuro can be pretty smooth when she wants to be. She's probably not flirting, but if she was...

...Why is he thinking that while his own wife is cuddling him in her sleep?

'cool'

'i assume we could go when kyoko's away again?'

He thinks about it for a while. Last time, Kyoko lied about going. If he stayed even a little more at Mukuro's, she's have noticed that his bike wasn't there. But then again, he likes hanging out with Mukuro, so...

'Yeah.'

'ok cool cool'

'btw u type like an old man'

'u sound liek a character from an eng textbook'

'overly stiff and stuff'

'i bet if someone asks u ur name'

'ud be all like 'my name is makoto naegi''

'instead of just saying ur name'

'It's Makoto Kirigiri now, actually.'

'no'

'fuck u'

'ur still naegi to me'

'the day i unironically call u kirigiri is the day i die'

'anyway i gotta get back to my music. its not mixing itself'

'good night'

'Good night.'

He puts his phone back on his nightstand.

Chapter Text

Alright. This isn't a drill. This isn't a drill.

It's been two days since she asked him. And now... they're actually going somewhere together! Makoto and Mukuro! Knowing that it's gonna happen makes her giddy beyond belief. She can barely sit still. She sits on the grey couch, tapping her leg impatiently. The sun almost burns her leg.

Since this is an actual hangout where they actually go somewhere, she wants to get serious about this. So, she has elected for black attire. Black shorts, and a black shirt that's small enough to push against her non-existent breasts. God does she wish she got a growth spurt eventually. Her own body didn't do her justice... She just hopes Makoto's into flat chests. Fortunately, her rear end isn't necessarily something to scoff at. It's not big, but it should be nice enough. And... gosh, is he into freckles, too? She has debated whether or not to use make-up to hide her freckles, but she ultimately decided against it. She's not much of a make-up girl, anyway.

Now, she can only sit around and hope that Makoto likes her features... aaand now comes the reminder that Makoto is a married man. Suddenly, her clothing feels uncomfortable to wear.

Besides, who'd wanna marry a war criminal child murderer anyway... It's stupid. Fucking stupid. But she made that choice long ago, to serve Junko's desires. She can't unkill anyone, sadly. Not even Makoto is that forgiving... right? He was still willing to be her friend, but being her boyfriend? Definitely a step too far for him. Especially while he has Kyoko...

Yup. She has no idea why she thought she ever stood a chance with him. Especially with all the girls in her old class, of which like half of them crushed on him. Hell, fucking CELESTE of all people, she caught giving him chocolates on Valentine's! HAND-MADE FUCKING CHOCOLATES! Of course, even something as blatantly romantic as that flew over his head. It was only about an hour later that she spotted Kyoko. She just walked up to him, kissed him, and said she liked him and that they should go out. Just like that, they became a thing. Definitely one of her least favourite memories, besides... well, all that. There were SO many girls who liked him. Some guys, even. It was frankly ridiculous how he just soaked up so much attention from the opposite sex.

So many girls who, believe or not, happened to NOT be child-murdering war criminals who would be responsible for the end of the world had Junko not been fucked over by fate. Yeah, kind of a high standard, isn't it? Just don't have a massive kill count. If only you'd be born with the count at zero. But that's just too fucking absurd of a concept. Despite that, Makoto happened to have a fine selection of those mythical prettier girls with better functioning moral compasses at his disposal. It'd make no sense to choose her.

She looks outside her window, seeing a familiar boy on a familiar bike ride across. Seeing him gives her hope. Perhaps, they CAN become something more. With a smile, she heads to the door, and opens it for him. He appears in front of it.

"Like, do I need to tell you to come in at this point? C'mon."

"O-Oh! S-Sorry," he stammers, laughing. He hurriedly walks inside. He takes the time to check him out. A greyish blue shirt, and blue, less grey shorts that clash with his shirt. Wow, that's...

"Your clothes look fucking terrible," she says, deciding to just be blunt, "I mean, they kinda..."

"...The one time I try to pick out clothes and I'm mocked for it," he says, mildly annoyed, "Gee, thank you. That was really nice of you."

Wait. Did he actually pick out clothes, just for this hangout? Th-That's...

She giggles, "Oh my god. No fucking way. Seriously," she stands before him. She lightly pokes him in the stomach, "You mean to tell me you put this," she lightly pokes him in the thigh, "and this on, and you didn't notice that they're, like, LITERALLY different shades of blue? Like, hello? Colourblind much? Are your eyes, perhaps, func-"

"Okay, look," he holds a hand in front of him, "I only had one pair of blue shorts. If I didn't, I PROMISE you, I'd have picked one that fits better."

She nods sarcastically, "Uh huh. Sure. And you don't have any other colour? Like say, black, green, yellow, white, blue... whatever?"

He looks at her, his mouth a firm, straight line. He's not breathing. He's looking at her like there's something on her cheek. An awkward silence hangs in the air.

"Well, you could still be nicer about it."

"And let your awful taste in fashion go unnoticed?" she asks, "You look much better with a hoodie, in my opinion."

"It's summer...."

"You have a point."

---

They make themselves some quick lunch, after which they leave for the zoo they'll be going to. God, it's been a while since she saw 77-B. She's not sure if she's ready to face him, after what she and Junko had planned for him and the rest of his class. If everything went any other way, she's sure he'd start, like... eating his hamsters or something. She barely concentrates on the road ahead of her...

"Hey, Mukuro?" Makoto asks, biking beside her, "Wanna hear a story?"

"Uhh..." she hesitates, "Sure. Hit me."

"Well, it was... I dunno how long ago. Me and Kyoko, we went shopping. And... uhh... Well, you know..." he blushes, laughing awkwardly, "Even though I was in a relationship with her, my eyes... Well, they couldn't be, stopped. Once another girl walked past me, I... I couldn't help myself."

"Oh?" she asks, "Were you checking her out?"

"...Yeah."

"O ho ho ho ho, Makoto, Makoto, you dirty, dirty boy. Lemme guess, Kyoko got MEGA pissed at you for that?" she asks, laughing. There's a subtle smile on her face.

"Well, you could call it that. You see... She, uhh... She wasn't having it. She, uhh... slapped me across the cheek. Pretty hard, too."

...And the smile disappears from her face. Along with any happy feelings she may have felt.

"What?" she asks in a flat tone, "You're saying... she slapped you."

"I mean, serves me right, I guess. I wasn't subtle about it... Hehehe..."

"No. No, no no. No," she says. The surroundings are a blur to her, only her and Makoto are important to her right now, "You're saying Kyoko slapped you hard across the cheek," she says, raising her voice.

"Yeah? What's the-"

"What the actual fuck? That's..." her brows furrow, her expression grows more tense, "Dude, you should've, like... stood up for yourself there! That's not okay, you know!"

"I mean... she apologised when we got home, and, well, it didn't happen like that again, I guess. So, it's okay, right?"

Even the biggest moron out there would notice the ridiculous wording he used. 'Didn't happen like that again'. He sounds like a sleazy lawyer. And, honestly, she's willing to at least give Kyoko the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps, somehow, she grew up with such old-fashioned beliefs, and this really was just a one-time mishap. But if it wasn't...

...WHY the FUCK does she feel happy about the prospect?! Just because it'd give her a reason to steal him from Kyoko? God, no fucking wonder he picked her all those years ago. She's almost sure he wouldn't pick her if she were the only woman alive on Earth.

"Let's just shut up about that story, okay? I don't wanna hear any of it anymore. Let's just... enjoy ourselves from now on."

"...Sure."

She spends the rest of the trip feeling like utter garbage.

---

"It's been a while since I've been to a zoo..." Makoto says, standing beside Mukuro. Keeping to her suggestion, she shoved all of her inner turmoil to the backside of her mind, focusing purely on having fun with him. Thanks to her past experience, she's encountered some wild animals before. Lions, bears, monkeys, parrots... As the Former Ultimate Soldier, she's confident that she could finish any one of these off in a one-on-one battle. Well, provided she has something to attack with. Otherwise, it could get a little tough... Regardless, seeing Makoto's wonder at seeing one of those beasts in person brings joy to her heart.

"You're cute," she says, deciding against all better judgement to compliment him on his cuteness.

"Thanks," he says, looking down from a bridge, seeing a lion curled up, watching its surroundings. A very stupid part of her wants to jump down, face it head-on, and come out victorious to impress Makoto. Nevermind the blatant crime she'd be committing, she's sure he'd be more horrified than actually impressed. As would everyone else who's watching...

"Halt! Who do I spot there...!" someone says from behind them. They turn around, noticing a very peculiar figure. It's that weirdo again. After ten years, on the flesh. He's wearing a blue uniform along with the rest of the staff, but his hairstyle remains unchanged, as does his 'Hell Hound Earring'. There's a very noticeable lack of a scarf. "It must surely have been a millennium since last we faced off like this..." he says in his usual theatric demeanour. Looks like the past ten years saw no changes in him. And to think... No, today is for having fun. No what-ifs. She... She can't let her guilt get in the way of this.

"G-Gundham...!" Makoto says in his presence.

"Gundham Tanaka, isn't it?" she says, trying her best to appear unphased.

"That's Gundham Tanaka-Nevermind to you, mortal!" he says, striking a ridiculous pose.

"Wait, you're married?" Makoto asks. Mukuro isn't fazed, the budding romance between him and Sonia was certainly something. And to think... GOD DAMMIT NO.

"The more naive among us would wonder how a dark being as I could ever have a lasting, fiery bond with someone as pure-hearted as Sonia. But indeed, it turns out that she might be as dark as I. I fear her Magic Essence might rival even mine... Normally, such an intense bond would see disastrous consequences, but with our combined prowess, we-"

"Okay, yeah so you're happily married, cool, we get it," Mukuro interrupts to both Gundham's displeasure and Makoto's faint, badly-hidden elation. "What about your hamsters? You know, those... dark, uhh, destruction things?"

"Heh..." he smiles, looking away, "To mention the Dark Devas of Destruction in such vain... I must smite you for that alone! However, I fear that they have entered the fiery pits of Hell ahead of me. And they took my smiting powers along with them. I guess I must spare you just this once."

Makoto looks down at the ground. Mukuro can't help but feel the same. He decides to light up the mood, however, "How are you and Sonia doing now?"

"We're doing fine. It is not of your business to know about our exploits. Also, I notice that Kyoko is not with you," he says, looking at him weird. This, in turn, makes Mukuro glare daggers at Gundham, "I don't mean to be malicious, but I assume that your bond has proven to be weak after all?"

"What do you mean?" Mukuro asks, actually having a rather solid idea of what he means.

"This is merely an assumption, but one which I can confidently make with the assistance of my All-Seeing Eye. Judging by the presence of the dark knight, am I correct in assuming that you're seeking refuge in her?"

Mukuro visibly tenses up at that question. First off, dark knight? She was a mercenary, dammit! Second, what? The thought is nice, of course, but... Should she lie about it and tell him that yes, they're in a relationship? This could help with getting with Makoto... On the other hand, she could probably let Makoto speak for them...

Wait, why is this even a question? Of course it's the second one! She looks at Makoto, who's as stunned as she is, hoping for him to say something. But for some reason, not a peep leaves his mouth. Does he want to make him think that they're...?

"No, we're not. We're just hanging out," Mukuro says, deciding to do it for him. It's the moral choice. It's the least she can do right now "They're actually married now. Him and Kyoko."

"Oh, uhh, yeah. Hehe," he laughs awkwardly, "Meet Makoto Kirigiri. Pleased to meet you."

"A most vile-sounding moniker to my ears," Gundham says. That's one thing she's in agreement with. "I guess I should be happy with your evil bond, so let me give you my dark bl-"

"N-N-No, no you shouldn't!" Mukuro interrupts, grabbing Makoto by the shoulder. "He's just fine as is, okay?"

"Mukuro...?"

"...Heh. I see." he says, "Well, I wish for you to enjoy this hellish prison of evil. Take great care to avoid becoming feed."

With that, he takes his leave, leaving them both in an awkward silence.

"Let's not talk about it," she says, wishing not to bring up that little stunt.

---

After about an hour of endless gawking, they get a little hungry, so they decide to eat. They've got onigiri. A simple, ordinary lunch: A rice ball, wrapped in seaweed. It's a little overpriced, but... Well, judging by Makoto's near orgasmic look as he takes bites...

"Delicious, isn't it?" Mukuro asks. They sit at a bench, away from the animals. This is likely to further discourage feeding.

"Yeah... Honestly, it's been SO long since I had onigiri..."

"Me too," she says, "It's pretty good. And I've had my taste of, ahem, cuisines," she says, attempting to pronounce the word in an exaggerated French accent, which elicits a Chuckle form Makoto, "from, like, everywhere. Y'know, from back in my mercenary days."

"I think I can imagine..."

"God, I remember my trip to France. We were needed there and I got the chance to try escargots," she says, once again attempting to pronounce it with a French accent.

"And? Were they any good?" he asks,

"Dude, they're fucking snails. Whaddaya think?"

"S-Sorry! I, uhh..."

"Nah, don't be. Anyway... Didn't like them. I still remember. I had to spit it out. The guys who served me some laughed at me, too. And I'm like, dude you eat fucking snails what're you laughing at ME for?" she rants, earning another chuckle from Makoto.

"I, uhh, I certainly get you..."

"RIGHT? And they, they... I don't know what they said. Damn French and their stupid, mumbly language. That's no joke, by the way. They, like, mumble a lot and they have these, stupid, like, throat-scraping sounds. They were all like, 'Hon hon, le Mukuro est de la idiot. Look at le her, not, euhh, liking le delicious, delicious escargots, what a barbarian, hon hon," she says, trying to sound as much like she's talking with her mouth full and vomiting at the same time as possible.

"Ahahaha! They... They actually sound like that?" he asks, clearly enjoying the conversation.

"Yeah, really," she says, laughing with him, "I feel bad for them! Imagine having sex and then, suddenly, your lover is sounding like she's about to throw up."

That makes Makoto burst out in laughter. He almost drops his onigiri. He also almost slams his face head-first into it from doubling down in laughter. A grain of rice gets on his cheek, "Oh my God, Mukuro! That's... Oh, I feel bad for laughing, but... EheeheehAHAHAHA...!"

Looking at Makoto like that fills her with a sense of pride. She can get him to be like this. Hell yeah. She can't help but laugh with him.

"Oh, and you know what else? These guys eat a shit-ton! I mean, I once saw them have, like, this entire, gi-GANTIC, uhh, ensemble of food. Like, there were so many warm dishes! And you know what? IT WAS FUCKING BREAKFAST!" she says, looking at him. His laughter intensifies. "I'm almost afraid to know what dinner looks like for them. Do they just... Do they just get an entire week's worth of groceries? Like, do their stomachs even have bottoms?"

"Ahahaha, stop it Mukuro!"

As he keeps laughing, she notices the grain of rice on his left cheek. She wonders, should she be a little bold right now, and...?

Well, kissing his cheek isn't an option right now. She'll probably explode. Instead...

"You have something on your cheek," she reaches her hand out, and with her fingers, she picks it off of his cheek, throwing it in her mouth. His laughter dies down, and his face goes a little red. She giggles. "You literally have an entire onigiri to finish. Let's hurry up, those animals aren't gonna watch themselves," she says. "Anyway,"

---

The sun sets, the sky enveloped in a dark blue hue. She bikes back home along with Makoto, continuing their pleasant conversations, most of which are led by her. She wonders if she's rambling, but if he enjoys it, it shouldn't be that bad, right? He seems to genuinely enjoy his time with her, and she even sometimes catches him staring. Seems like she chose a nice outfit for today. The attention does feel pretty nice...

She does wonder why he doesn't have as much to share about himself, but considering him and Kyoko, he probably doesn't have that many interesting things to talk about. And she DID kinda scare him with the one story he tried to tell.

Before they know it, they reach home. Well, Mukuro's. She parks her bike, locking it. She waves Makoto goodbye with a smile. And she heads inside.

She then jumps on the couch, violently kicking her feet against it and screaming into a pillow. That... That was the most fun she had in recent memory. Like, by FAR. How the hell could Makoto's presence make something as boring as a ZOO so FUN for her? She swears, this boy can work actual magic!

She hugs the pillow she just yelled into, imagining it to be Makoto. WIth her sheer strength, she almost destroys it from squeezing it so hard. And now that she's fantasising, what wrong could it do to have some fun? She kisses the pillow in an area where she imagines the lips to be. Despite it NOT being Makoto, she's filled with a strange, comforting sense of euphoria. She lets out a heavy sigh. She then laughs a little, chasing the feeling as much as she can. The faint bits of sunlight shining on her body further help the warm sensation.

Having officially let it all out, she decides it's time to think. After all, Makoto's attempt at a story only made her feel like ass. A feeling that didn't disappear until they actually arrived. And that feeling isn't without reason. After all, he did reveal that there's been at least one instance of physical abuse in their relationship. One that could have a solid explanation for it, however. As she thought before, maybe Kyoko just held somewhat antiquated beliefs. She DID apparently apologise, after all. But then there's also Makoto's strange wording about it 'not happening like that again' that suggests that Kyoko might slap him for other reasons, and...

God, it's complicated. It's frustrating. So fucking frustrating. But this can't be 100% relied on.

No, she needs more. She needs something solid. Something that can't easily be explained away. At this point, she's, like, 90% sure that their relationship blows, but she needs something better to fully prove it.

She also wishes she didn't have a selfish ulterior motive for this. She's always crushed incredibly hard on this one guy, and, well...

She'll try to put those feelings aside for now. Perhaps they can be explored after she gets actual confirmation. For now, she can just make more pleasant, platonic memories with him.

She falls asleep peacefully, keeping those pleasant memories in mind.

---

Curtains rising! Audience cheering! Monokuma Theatre! Commencing!!!

"Hue no, aim pray T-shirt hat dissing tenses stall ledge bowl. A slung sue you sam lairs on den vow wills, hue cans tell mega outta gin row con tag stuffier sand tins. Pray tea nights pacer tree fear, down chuff ink?" Monokuma says.

Chapter Text

Today was fun. He's still smiling after it. Though, eleven kilometres is still quite a distance. That, plus the distance to Mukuro's... A shower will certainly help to relax after that. The sun is starting to set, and the sky gets darker, yet darker.

And now he's home. He can see the driveway already. He gets off, and then lifts his bike over the now faint patch of dirt. He locks the bike. The car's gone, too. That old, white thing that he'd recognise instantly. It's the sort of car where you have to manually open a window.

He unlocks the door, heads inside, and, after a quick shower, makes his way to the bedroom. He lets out a small sigh. That... That was heaps of fun. He's met an old acquaintance, gone to a zoo, and eaten onigiri for the first time in forever. And Mukuro's passion in her conversations... It's intoxicating. It reminds him of their bond back at Hope's Peak. Somehow, he STILL can't shake the feeling that their friendship left everyone better off...

...Friendship? For some reason, the term doesn't quite sound right. Yeah, he'd call him and Mukuro friends, but... Wait, no! He has Kyoko! There's no way he could betray her trust in such a fashion... though the temptation is certainly there, whether he likes it or not. He feels more free when around Mukuro, compared to here, where he has to watch what he does sometimes. Somehow, the air feels a little more difficult to breathe here.

Likely because Kyoko's coming, and he'll have to not appear suspicious.

That WAS seriously fun, though! Despite her crude demeanour, she kinda has a certain way with words that he really likes. For some reason, he feels like he had more fun than in his last date with Kyoko. It's weird. Kyoko absolutely coddled him with love and affection, while Mukuro was somewhat haphazard in her ways, and even teased him. Not to mention the somewhat rough start, where he's absolutely sure he made Mukuro feel awful.

He WOULD think about it more, but the sudden, recognisable sound of a car's engine draws him out of his thoughts. He looks out of the window. Kyoko's... here. He takes a deep breath. No use drawing this out any longer. He heads downstairs, unable to help the faint, yet irritating trembling of his legs. He instinctively looks around him. Doorways look wider than they usually appear. Blunt objects stand out more than they tend to. He ignores those thoughts, firmly putting his hand on the doorhandle. He pulls it towards him, and puts on his best smile. It almost hurts.

"Hi, Kyoko!" he says, seeing her step out of the car. She throws it closed behind her. In her usual fashion, she doesn't say anything, but she does return a faint smile. He stands to the side, letting her waltz in. He closes the door behind her. That's when he notices the bag Kyoko's carrying, and the smell coming from it.

"Did you get pizza?" he asks, chiding himself for asking the obvious.

"Yes," she says, "I'm not in the mood for making us dinner. And, in my opinion, it's healthy to just indulge every once in a while," she smiles, "Don't you think?"

"O-Oh, yeah, sure," he says. After cycling for such a distance, he's sure worked up an appetite, so... "I... probably don't need to ask, but..."

"Salami for you, right?"

He visibly lights up at the confirmation, "Yeah!"

"Hmhm," she laughs, "You're cute, you know."

They proceed to sit down at the light wooden table. Man, he can't wait until they can finally break out the kotatsu... Would Mukuro like it?

...Probably. Anyway, pizza! Kyoko makes sure to finish cutting the pizza, since it's been done rather poorly. And with that, he can finally start. He takes a slice, and bites a piece of it off with her mouth. Meanwhile, Kyoko uses a knife to cut a slice into small parts, picking up said parts with chopsticks. He has the feeling that she would employ the same method even if she DIDN'T wear gloves. She opted for pizza hawaii, by the way. Weird, but he won't judge.

"You know, Makoto..." she says.

"Hm?"

"You smell pretty nice."

"Huh? Uhh..." he hesitates, "Thanks."

"Did you perhaps take a shower just now?" she asks, looking at him with a smile. It somehow creeps him out, "You don't usually shower this early. It's only..." she checks the clock mounted on the wall, it displaying the time in plain ol' numbers, "...eight o'clock. Did you perhaps exert yourself too much...?"

"Huh? Oh, uhh, yeah, I... haha, you know..." he scratches his head, laughing awkwardly. Crap. She's definitely getting suspicious. Cycling works up quite a sweat, so... He really shouldn't have showered! He tries to not avoid her gaze, "Well, it's getting really hot, isn't it? I mean, even if we're, nearing the end of summer, uhh..."

She looks at him, her gaze intensifying somewhat,

"You know, it's still really warm, uhh, outside," he says, realising what he said, "A-and also inside! And, well, you know what people do when they get overly sweaty, don't you? They certainly won't, you know, deal with it. So, I just went to the bathroom, and, well, you know..." he says, the words feeling like thorns, "I just took, a shower. To, you know, relax."

He resists the urge to sigh.

"Don't we have air conditioning?" she asks. And his stress peaks even more. Dammit, he should've...

"Oh, that? Well, I was bored, and I decided to... you know... sunbathe? It's certainly not healthy to keep sitting inside forever, right? So, I, uhh..." he takes his time to come up with a word to use, "Didn't. Sit inside. And, well, I think, I'd recommend it, you know. Doing, uhh... the same thing... Y'know?"

She stares him in the eyes, almost as if to tell him that was the most blatant lie in the world. It's a glare that could make anyone shiver. In his case, he has to stop himself from shaking. She cuts another piece of her slice of pizza, using her chopsticks to bring it to her mouth.

"Let's not forget the fact that you seem a little... happy today. For lack of a better term," she says. She smiles gently, contrasting with her glare, "Why is that? Did something happen?"

He suppresses a gulp, trying to keep himself straight. "Well, you know... I was just... feeling so good, while, sun, bathing, you know. I mean, really," he laughs, "You should try it sometime! It feels so good to, do it, and, it... It's great!" he says, taking another bite out of his slice of pizza. Kyoko cuts off another piece, her glare not faltering.

"You seem a little on edge," she says, "I can't imagine your 'sun-bathing' having felt particularly amazing," she says, putting a weird sort of emphasis on sun-bathing. A knot grows in his stomach, feeling like it's being pulled tight, "If there's anything wrong, do not hesitate to tell me."

"A-Ahahaha, well, there's... Nothing! Nothing wrong! At, at all! Nope! I'm fine, Kyoko, trust me! I, heh, I'm just..." God, what does he say, what does he say? "Uhh, I'm... Is it okay if I just..." he tries to look her in the eyes, "Not say it?" he says, feeling her glare intensifying, "N-N-Not that I have ANYTHING to hide, I'm just... Not in the mood to, uhh... diverge? Uhh, div... uhh... Divulge? Maybe, uhh, later?"

She's in the middle of taking another piece of pizza to her mouth. Makoto is prompted to do the same, he takes another, bigger bite. Only the crust remains, now. He doesn't like to waste food, so...

"So, you're both unusually happy and unusually on edge," she says, "It's okay, Makoto. You don't have to tell me anything. For now, at least."

That... doesn't actually do ANYTHING to reassure him. At all. Is that a threat of sorts...? Has she caught on? Probably not. There's no way she knows the full picture. But she knows that he's very much hiding something, now... Not wishing to talk, he stuffs the crust into his mouth, preparing himself for the next slice.

Thankfully, they're silent for the remainder of their little dinner. And yet, the feeling of unease remains, persistently hanging around him. Despite this, he still finds himself looking forward to his next encounter with Mukuro. And it makes the unease feel even worse. Again, that was so much fun, hanging out with her. Yet, Kyoko wouldn't allow it. He broke her trust for a selfish reason. That's never okay, no matter how much he wants to justify it.

With enough time, the sun fully sets. Makoto is on their bed, secretly listening to Sayaka's music while she's filing paperwork. He pushes the feeling of guilt aside, of course... Though, he's curious as to what her music sounds like. Mukuro's music. He's heard BMS music before, and it's a little... intense. For his tastes. So, he searches up her name, eventually finding her alias she uses for making music, 'Shironai', in romaji. He decides to give her most popular song a listen, which he sees is sitting at a rather comfortable 12.5 million views. It's about six minutes long, titled 'ON TO EVERYWHEЯE'. He looks in the comments before taking a proper listen.

It's mostly English comments. Now, he's not terrible at English; but he would not call himself fluent. That award would have to go to Kyoko. He'd have trouble keeping up an actual conversation in English. Seems like this song has struck a chord overseas... If he's not wrong, most of the comments are talking about how this song is, in a nutshell, pretty difficult in many rhythm games.

Well, this should be good. He's not one to listen to this type of music, but it can never hurt to try. He presses play, and...

Chapter Text

Yesterday was sure fun. The most fun she's had in a good while. Makoto's presence is simply intoxicating...

But now, she's running a little short on food, so she goes shopping. She stands before the aisles, seeming to stretch on forever, the grey, tiled floor not particularly helping the feeling. However, only two things are of real interest to her.

The first is, of course, food. She usually goes for packs of ready-made food. It's cheap, it's easy, and it doesn't taste terrible. At least, it has more of a taste than plain rice. She throws a few random packs into her red basket, it rolling across the floor as she drags it around. The sound it makes as it rolls is easy enough to filter out.

Now, for the second thing. She's ignored this craving for a little while at this point. It's all the way over on the other side of the store. So she swiftly tries to make her way over there, but...

"Here they are. Only, uhh, took us forever to find them... Guess it really IS here, huh." a familiar voice says. It almost frightens her, but that feeling gives way to a pleasant, fuzzy sensation. Geez, to find HIM here of all places? The universe must have-

"Only because you forgot where they were," another, less familiar but still recognisable voice says. That sheer cold aura emanating from it...! Could it be?

...No beating around the bush. That's Makoto and Kyoko. This is the first time she's actually seen Kyoko in ten years, too. She doesn't really remember her voice that well, but it's a little familiar. Immediately, she can feel her blood pressure rise. Her otherwise ordinary shopping trip is now a significantly more unhappy one. It's a feeling that brings back memories. Not pleasant ones. They're memories of spotting Makoto happily getting along with Kyoko. Going on dates, kissing, flirting, whatever. That initial, audacious confession.

It makes her feel like a background object. Of course. Of course they're happy together. Yeah. Makoto and Mukuro being a thing... Perhaps, her even taking his last name someday... It's all a pipe dream anyway. She's already accepted that. Mukuro Naegi does have a nice ring to it, but... that award will just have to go to another Mukuro somewhere in Japan, meeting someone with the last name of Naegi. She quietly laughs to herself. To actually think that, if just for a fleeting moment, she could realise her feelings for him.

She's already accepted the possibility. She takes a deep breath, attempting to move on with her life, but something inside of her prevents her from doing that.

She has accepted the possibility. But... what if it's just that? A mere possibility? She reminds herself that Kyoko has a high chance of being a terrible partner, which would give her an excuse to try and break them up. She ignores the guilt festering inside her. The promise she made to herself to put her feelings on hold until after she found proof.

She can hear them throwing something inside a basket. They seem to be in the hygiene aisle. And it sounded like a small plastic bag landing on something hard. Subtly peeking around the corner, she notices them, facing away from her. In Kyoko's hand is a small red basket. In it, she notices a small, plastic bag. A bag of tissues.

She then takes a look at Kyoko. Regrettably, the sight pisses her off. It really should've been her! She should just strangle her or something. She holds herself back, however. Still, even if it's from the back, she doesn't look that much different. Her hair is equally purple. She still has the left half of her hair tied in a braid.

"I'll ask you again, Makoto, just in case. Are you sure about this? About you..." she looks around. Mukuro backs out of sight before Kyoko can spot her, "...getting pegged?"

The words strike Mukuro right in the heart, realising what this means. Kyoko is asking Makoto to get pegged. This implies he's never been pegged before. This implies he's an anal virgin. This means that after what's most likely today, his anal virginity will be lost to Kyoko.

She realises that she never considered his anal virginity. If she was any quicker, she could've at least taken THAT. But no, Kyoko beat her to the punch here, too. She feels like she's back at school again, watching Kyoko and Makoto from the sidelines. And, really, it's a small thing. She still has literally every possible virginity to give to him. But, knowing that even this one, small, rather insignificant thing isn't an option anymore... It's a little crushing, honestly.

"Kyoko," Makoto laughs. It sounds pleasant to her ears, but she can't help but notice it feels forced, like he's making himself laugh, "I'm ready, okay? Geez, you worry way too much..." he says. Welp. That's it, then. Straight from the egg's mouth. It strikes her heart like lightning.

"I simply don't want you getting hurt," she says. Mukuro finds herself disgusted at those words, even if she doesn't have solid proof yet, "Now, we have what we need. Let's go, okay?" she says. Something about this seems way off. They walk away from her, over to one of the registers. She uses this time to finally make her way over to the aisle she wants to be at; the one for alcoholic beverages. Her craving for alcohol hasn't been satiated in a while, and she feels like it's been neglected. She grabs a six-pack of beer cans with little effort, as if it's a feather.

...She grabs two more, for good measure. She doesn't have any more difficulties with carrying them. It's also not like she's gonna drink 'em all in one sitting. Her liver would literally disintegrate from that. 'Ts all gonna go in the fridge.

And now, while she's carrying the packs, she thinks about Makoto and Kyoko. Somehow, something feels off. She's ridiculously fishy. She seems to dote on him, though. Almost like a parent and her child.

...And then she has an epiphany regarding that thought. Like a parent and child...

Yeah, thinking about it like that... It's more than a little weird. Makoto is his own person, after all. He doesn't need to be coddled like that. She almost seems like... a helicopter parent, to put it like that.

...That's clearly not good.

Waiting until both Makoto and Kyoko are going home, Mukuro makes her move, and heads towards the register. Waiting in a small line, she hands the cashier her debit card. She puts the basket back where she got it, officially concluding her shopping trip.

...A helicopter parent. She's read horror stories about them on the internet. Parents who don't trust their children with even the smallest of risks. Parents who don't allow their children any real autonomy. And, though it might be confirmation bias, Makoto didn't seem like he had much autonomy, with the sheer coddling on display...

Definitely a thing to keep in mind.

---

Curtains rising! Audience cheering! Monokuma Theatre! Commencing!!!

"Have you ever wondered how to clear up space on your computer? 'How do I get rid of all that pesky clutter'?"

Monokuma laughs, paw covering his mouth, "Puhuhu... It's actually really simple. Have you ever heard of System32? It's a gigantic folder, like thirteen gigs in size. Sounds like it'd eat up space, no? So, I advise you to just..."

He laughs again, "Puhuhuhuhuhuhu... Just kidding! Did you really think I would resort to such an antiquated trick? I mean, 'deleting System32'? Wooow. I would REALLY be running out of ideas if I resorted to that. No, instead... I'll be talking about SysWOW64. A way smaller, even less useful folder, only about one gig. Still, if you're in need of one extra gigabyte... Well, you can do away with it just fine. Delete it, you don't need it! That'll clear up some valuable, valuable space!"

Chapter Text

The sun conveniently shines on the bed, enveloping both in a comforting warmth. It's happening today. After a reasonable amount of deliberation between Makoto and Kyoko, they're doing it. Well, she's doing it to him. That's a more accurate way to describe it.

He's getting pegged. Kyoko asked him that one day, via a very awful joke. Well, the joke sucked, but it was still a nice way to make up for what happened before. If only he remembered to remind her... But that's all sand under the bridge now. He's heard of the concept. To have your partner put on a strap-on and anally penetrate you. It's never really appealed to him that much, but when Kyoko mentioned it, it did speak to him a little. They've tested the waters a few times by having her finger him, and it turns out he doesn't hate it. In fact, he actually rather likes it. It feels surprisingly good.

He has had a very thorough enema before all of this. If it went well, his insides should be cleaned out well. Should make for a smooth experience.

...And of course, Kyoko is initiating. She's pinning him to the bed, clinkling the grey sheets. Hooking her right arm behind his back and her left arm behind his head, she presses her mouth against his hard, her tongue unrelenting. It's always a good time when she gets aggressive like this. Somehow, it feels like she's being gentle at the same time. He likes that. It makes him feel appreciated, even if a little.

The foreplay eventually comes to an end, as Kyoko equips herself with a strapon. A black one, made out of silicone. The length rivals his own member, which somehow makes him a little jealous... Oh yeah, both parties are also buck-naked, save for the obvious boy-breaking tool Kyoko currently has equipped. "Turn around, get on all fours," she says. And, well, what other choice does he have? He, of course, does as she says.

He instinctively braces himself for the sensation he's about to feel. The opening of a cap is heard, followed by... Well, first the stuff inside hitting the floor. "Whoops," Kyoko says, "I accidentally spilled some on the floor." And THEN, the immediate feeling of Kyoko's gloved finger inside of him. Which is subsequently joined by another. It leaves his behind feeling a little sore, but he doesn't hate it. His cock throbs painfully. He'd rather have her proceed to the action.

But the few minutes Kyoko spends loosening up his ass will prove to be worth it, he thinks. From behind, Kyoko ruffles his hair. It's a little clumsier than usual. Likely a combination of her performing the action from a distance, and her not using her dominant right hand. He assumes that hand is currently drenched, rendering it unwise to ruffle anyone's hair with it. "Are you ready, Makoto?" she asks, awaiting a response.

He doesn't look behind him, but he says "Yes," with clear enthusiasm, "I'm ready, Kyoko. You can... You can go ahead if you want," he adds, showing his clear desire for her to just move on and show him a good time.

"You're impatient," she says, giggling adorably. "I'll forgive you this time," she says, giggling in a way Makoto can't help but feel is... somewhat ominous. He grips the sheets in anticipation and preparation. He can hear - and feel - the mattress shift under Kyoko's weight. She puts her left hand on his ass, that feeling joined by a certain silicone object coming in contact with his sphincter. He does his best to relax.

That foreign object gently pushes itself further inside. Makoto fights the urge to push it out, letting her go further in. "Ngh..." he groans at the feeling. That thing's thick... And it kind of hurts, yet somehow, it leaves him wanting more. It's very much unlike her fingers. Maybe because it's shaped like a penis. The thought somehow makes his own throb painfully, wishing to somehow become even harder. That feeling is soon joined by her right hand placing itself on his hip. It's considerably less dry than her left hand, dripping with lube.

She pushes further and further in, until...! "Ngh...?" he moans in confusion. That was...!

"Did I find the sweet spot...?" she asks teasingly. "Perhaps if I..." she says, pulling back, and striking that same spot again with a little more force.

"Nnn...!" he moans again. That felt... "Haa...!" Another strike. Kyoko's strokes start attaining a slow, consistent pace. "HaaAAaa... K-Kyoko...!"

"Oh, does that feel good?" she asks, increasing her pace.

"Y-YeEs! Thatfeels... It'sgoOD...!" he slurs. God, feel good, she asks. Is this a joke? If his wide open mouth and unusually loud moans aren't already tipping her off... This feels incredible! This is bliss! He's not usually one to be vocal in bed, but with something like this, he... he can't help himself! His mind goes blank as her thrusts accelerate. Her grip on his hips tightens. So does his grip on the sheets. He buries his face in the sheets, wanting more of it. His cock throbs painfully, precum leaking out of it.

He can't handle it for much longer, though, as he feels something approaching. "Ghh... GhaAAaa...!!!" he yells, droll dribbling down his chin, soaking the sheets below him. And judging by the feeling of release, it's not just the drool.

Kyoko's thrusts stop, and eventually his ass feels emptier thanks to the absence of the rod inside of him. "Did you come?" she asks, her voice gentle.

"Kyoko," he laughs, "Look under me. Do you notice anything?" he asks, his voice breathy. He only notices now how sweaty he is. The audible rustling of the sheets proves she heeds his question, "What do you think?"

"You're right," she says matter-of-factly. "Your come has stained the sheets. I guess I should've put a towel there. That's a lack of foresight on my part."

"Wow. Kyoko making a mistake?" Makoto quips, sitting down on his now somewhat sore butt, taking care to avoid the white blob he's guilty of leaving behind, "Who woulda-"

"I'm just as human as you, just so you know. By the way," she asks, her voice teasing, "I'm not satisfied just yet. Hearing you moan and whimper under me is pretty hot. Music to my ears, you might say," she says, smirking, "Why don't we have another go at this sometime soon?"

"Uhh..." he hesitates, scratching his cheek, "I don't know, Kyoko. I mean, it was fun," he laughs, "and somehow I feel like I COULD go again, but I...Nah, not now," he says. "Another time."

Her glare doesn't get colder, but she does squint a little. "Makoto, I really want to go again. If you can go again, when why not? That felt good, didn't it?" she asks, looking at him with the clear hopes of him providing a yes as an answer.

"Yes," he says, satisfying her on that front. It's the honest truth, so that helps. "But, I..." he looks away, "Not now."

Kyoko gets off the bed, and heads to the bathroom. WIth enough time, she returns with a towel. She lays it precisely over the spot where he came, nullifying any threat of it getting on her. She gets on the bed, the rod on her strapon flopping slightly in a fashion that, while he finds it hot, also feels a little ominous. She gets on all fours, crawling up to him, her legs going over the towel. His back is up against the backside of the bed, his legs are spread slightly. "Makoto. I really, really want to do it again. Please?" she asks.

"Kyoko," he says, his voice a little stern, "No. I don't want to-"

"I guess..." she trails off. Before he could react, she quickly gives him a kiss on the lips, forcing her tongue inside while he's caught off-guard. His eyes go wide at the sudden sensation of Kyoko's tongue violently thrashing about in his mouth. Instinctively, he pushes her off, leaving a trail of saliva that's quickly broken, falling to his chin and neck.

"Kyoko, what the...!" he says, "I- What are you... D-Do you even know what "no" means at this point?" he says angrily. He points at her, "You went too far there! Too far- OW!"

He's interrupted by a sudden, jarring surge of pain in his cheek. He looks at Kyoko, who's having her right arm cast out into his general direction. "K-Kyoko, what are you-"

"You will let me have another go," she says, glaring at him viciously. She grips his shoulders. "Now, hold still, or-"

"N-No...? Kyoko, seriously, stop this- GYAH!"

Another, more intense surge of pain courses through his cheek, Kyoko once again being the culprit. His face is forced to the side from the power of Kyoko's slap.

"Shut up, Makoto," she says, her voice cold yet boiling. "You will let me have another go. Now..." she says, grabbing at his legs, and forcing them upward. Makoto flails them about, to little effect. He looks around, looking for any potential routes or blunt objects to exploit. "Stop struggling. Or do you want another slap to the cheek?" she asks. "Maybe I should go further than that-"

"N-No!" he pleads in panic, tears forming in his eyes. "S-Seriously, stop! I don't wanna do this!"

"I do!" she says angrily. "And if you're not gonna-"

"L-Let go of me!" he says, trying to fight off her hands keeping his legs in place. He aims the rod attached to her strapon at his ass, Makoto watching with eyes that are about to turn red from the tears. His brain is short-circuiting. He's desperately trying to think of a solution. But... What CAN he do? What can he do?

In his panic, he vaguely remembers a trick a character in... some TV drama he can't remember now pulled off. Perhaps... It's his last hope at this point.

"K-Kyoko, listen. I think that, uhh... You know, maybe you should just..." he stammers, trying to get her attention. He tries his best to not look around. "L-Look! I'm not gonna go and say that you can't have what you want, but... c-can't we just... agree on a c-c-compromise, and-"

Using her attention towards what he's trying to say to his advantage, he uses all his strength to throw his legs to the left side, escaping Kyoko's grasp. His feet quickly hit the floor, and he makes use of that fact to get off and grab his phone from the nightstand. He bumps it with his hip, but he ignores it as he runs and runs before Kyoko can do anything.

Sadly, she's quick on her legs, as she follows his route. She throws her legs off the bed, taking chase after him... only to then nearly slip on the lube she spilled on the floor, buying him just enough time to run to the door, open it, and get out of there. He doesn't even think about it. He runs to the nearby bathroom, recognisable by the green indicator on it, showing that it's unoccupied. He violently throws the door open, Kyoko running behind him and nearly catching up to him. She barely reaches out to him before he enters the bathroom, and throws it closed as hard as he can, away from her grasp. He then, with a shaking hand, turns the lock.

He breathes violently, the adrenaline settling down. The white light, refracted by the white tiles, is blinding, but also comforting. He's escaped her grasp for now... He looks at his phone. Fully charged. Good. Good good good. He can hear footsteps behind him. They're walking away from him, downstairs. The panic sets in again. She's... She's gonna get a knife to turn the lock from the other side! Desperately thinking of a solution, he tries to look for something he can use to block the handle. He looks around, finding nothing. Except...!

He pulls the washing machine away from the wall. He reaches behind the washing machine, taking care not to touch the backside. He carefully pulls the plug so that his arm doesn't recoil onto the backside. And now, he pulls the whole thing fully away from the wall, pushing it to the door. He finds, sadly, that it just BARELY doesn't fit. Crap, crap.

That's right! He can just turn it over. He carefully pulls one of the sides of the washing machine towards him, taking care not to let it drop. Once it's on the ground, he pushes it to the door, only to find that it's not long enough now. Whatever, at least he could find something to shove under the handle now. Roughly eyeballing it, he should need about thirty centimetres worth of stuff.

He figures it's easy. He can just reach up to a drawer on the wall with a bunch of towels in it. He accidentally bought a little too many towels one day, so... who'd know it'd pay off someday? He grabs them, and hurriedly tries to worm them under the doorhandle. He then tests it. Try as he might, he can't get it to open. Good. Good good good good good. He's safe, he's safe. He looks at his phone. 9月7日, or September 7. It's 15:23.

He hears footsteps behind him, approaching him this time. Looks like she came back. He braces himself. Will this work? As expected, he hears the clicking of the lock. She COULD open the door now... if it wasn't for the things blocking the doorhandle. And, indeed, it barely budges. He watches as she attempts the fruitless endeavor a few times, before stopping. "Makoto. Open up," she commands.

He doesn't know what to say.

"If you don't open up, you can expect a fierce punishment. Open. Up."

He doesn't budge. She knocks on the door. "OPEN. UP. Makoto. It's just another round. You can handle this. Come on. Just one more round. No more."

"Kyoko," he says, feeling the need to respond to that, "I just don't wanna, okay? Can this really not wait?"

"It can't."

"Why?"

"Because..." she seems to try and come up with something, but he can't know for sure. "I just can't. I need to do it again. Now open up."

He doesn't answer. She bangs against the door. "Open up."

Kyoko continues wasting her time with him. Eventually, her knocking and threatening stops. Makoto lets out a massive sigh, shifting on the floor. He looks at his phone. 19:38. And the boredom has set in a little. So, deciding to do something while he waits for a good opportunity to get out of there, he texts his second-favourite person on the planet.

...second favourite? No, that doesn't sound right. Kyoko... He's not sure about her being his favourite. Not after this. She went too far. Way too far. She actively ignored what he was trying to tell her. That... That definitely is not the Kyoko he knew and loved. Actually. he could say that about her for quite a while, now that he thinks about it. She really did used to be different. Loathe as he is to admit it, she was different in a good way. Something about her felt a little less... suffocating. Compared to now.

His mind drifts to that one comment Mukuro made, when he shared his story about Kyoko slapping him, and how strongly she reacted. Was she right, perhaps...? Well, Kyoko DID apologise, but... He doesn't feel like mulling over that thought now. He decides to just text her.

'Hi, Mukuro.' he types in. Short and sweet. And, of course, she replies pretty quickly.

'sup bitch'

'how u doin'

He laughs. She definitely has a way with words. If she wanted to, she could woo anyone she wanted with her charms. ...That's mostly a sarcastic comment, but he can't help but feel weirdly about it.

'I'm not doing well.'

'huh'

'that sucks'

'kyoko being a bithc?'

He thinks over that statement for a little, before settling on his message,

'You could say that.'

Chapter Text

For a mercenary, Mukuro has had a surprising affinity for music. She's sometimes found herself humming songs with surprising accuracy. She's even imagined large, complex songs in her head. And now, she channels those thoughts into the wonderful world of BMS, and the 'button-mashing game' the songs are often featured in.

...Seriously, 'button-mashing game'? Talk about uncultured.

...She has a bigger problem to worry about right now. She plays the part of a song she's working on again. Something feels off!!! It's oddly... muddy? Dissonant? Whatever? What's going on? She gently smacks the table in frustration, making sure not to put a hole in it. God, nothing works!

She's tried messing around with the EQ. Nothing happened, it just makes it sound weird. She's tried to put on a clipper, which only made it sound even worse. She's tried toning down the reverb and the delay, which barely helped... At all. In fact, it made the whole thing sound even worse. God dammit!

And so, in a last-ditch effort, she goes through every single last one of the twenty-six channels, to see what the culprit of this horrible sound is. And lo and behold...

...It's the bells in the background. She accidentally placed a single note wrong. She puts it back into proper position, and plays that part again. The weird dissonant sound is gone. She facepalms. It's always the little things! And now he has to undo all the damage she did to the mix in hopes of remedying this dissonant sound. And she instinctively saved literal seconds after putting the note back into proper position. And while she was trying to fix it, she made several more minor adjustments to the rest of the song. So now she has to manually do all of it over again. GREAT.

A notification sound plays on her phone. Her attention is immediately cast to it. That must be...!

Indeed it is. It's Makoto! He messaged her.

'Hello, Mukuro.'

She decides to use this as an excuse to forget about what just happened. It's a little dark outside, her body mostly illuminated by her phone and the monitor. She heads to her bed to make herself comfortable. She jumps onto the white sheets, the window above it failing to provide much light beyond the street lights shining in. Well, now could be a good time to unleash off of her charisma onto him, so she replies,

'sup bitch'

'how u doin'

She briefly regrets sending him such a response, but she supposes he won't mind much. Maybe he'll even find it a little funny. But...

'I'm not doing well.'

A pit forms in her stomach reading those words. What... happened, exactly...?

'huh'

'that sucks'

She briefly debates on whether or not to send him this message...

'kyoko being a bithc?'

She hopes it's not that... but she also hopes it is at the same time. She tries to kick that thought.

'You could say that.'

...Okay, what?

'It's about Kyoko.'

'She did something I didn't like.'

'what did she do exactly?'

'I don't want to talk about that right now.'

'I mean, I don't want to get into the specifics.'

The pit in her stomach grows. Something bad happened and it's Kyoko related... and of course, that feeling is accompanied by that excitement she hates so much. It only makes that pit grow wider.

'if it's sensitive thats ok'

'No, it's okay.'

He takes a while to send the next message,

'Kyoko was being a little pushy today.'

'She scared me a little.'

'pushy?'

'wdym'

'She wanted to do something, and I didn't, and now I'm here.'

'I hope she calmed down.'

She remembers the shopping trip she made today, with them talking about pegging. Surely not...! There's no fucking way.

Yet, jumping to that conclusion doesn't feel exactly right. She really should be 100% sure...

'sounds awful'

'hey wanna know my opinoin on kyoko?'

'Sure.'

Alright. She can't go on without saying this at least once. She doesn't care what Makoto thinks.

'i think she fucking sucks'

'i mean from what ive heard from u'

'very controlling'

'probably'

'like literally red flags galore'

'She's not that bad when you get to know her.'

'I'm sad that you think of her that way.'

...She's really not sure what she expected. She briefly ponders whether or not she should talk to him about the absolute clusterfuck that was last week. Why DID he leave like that? It had to do with Kyoko, clearly, and it was bad enough for him to seemingly PANIC, so there's ABSOLUTELY something going on! Ultimately, however, she feels like pressing him now might not be a good idea.

'just my opinion'

'take it with a grain of salt'

'but seeing that she apparenlty did something u didn't like'

'not gonna assume the best, let's just sayb that'

'just sdo u know'

'i care about u'

'a lot'

'yuou're my only friend'

...And the one I'm attracted to, she wants to add. She doesn't.

'so hearing that she did a bad thing to u'

'makes me feel like shit'

'Thank you, Mukuro. That means a lot to me.'

'By the way, are you working on music for that game again?'

'The one where you mash buttons?'

She snorts. After the lengthy explanation she gave him that one time, that must have been intentional. Well, if he wants to be a dick...

'u know what'

'nvm'

'i take it all back'

'kys'

'die alonje and miserable'

'...Rude?'

'im obviously joking'

'please dont kill urself'

'but also it's not a fucking button mashing game'

'u have like technique and stuff'

'fingerjacking, wristjacking, wrist down or wrist up'

'theres also like'

'trills'

'on a bms controller they can be hard to figure out'

'theres also how to actually jack properly without losing a fuckton of stamina'

'What's jacking?'

...Right.

'its basically hitting the same note really fast'

'but i digress'

'have u heard of the navy seal copypasta?'

'What is it?'

'it's an overseas copypasta i saw a few times'

'basically it's about this one guy threatening someone for saying something. It looks roughly like this:'

'what the fuck did u just sday about me, u little bitch? ill have u know, yada yada, i'm good at 'gorilla warfare''

'thats my favourite part. gorilla warfare'

'it's supposed to be guerilla warfare'

'if u dont know what that is'

'basically its like indie warfare'

'smaller independent groups using unconventional tactics'

'anyway, they continue the copypasta by mentioning connections with the navy seal or something'

'they also say theyll shit fury all over u andthat 'ur fucking dead, kiddo''

'rly funny stuff they can come up with overseas'

'Wow. That's very intense.'

'yeah right?'

'also typing is getting tiring. mind if i call u?'

'if kyoko cant hear u obv'

'Sure.'

She's mainly doing this to hear his voice again. She wants to hear straight from the egg's mouth how he's faring. She calls him, taking only a few seconds for the other end to pick up.

"...Hi, Mukuro." he says, sounding rather off, somehow, "Uhh, what were you getting at with that whole... seal, thing?" he asks. He's definitely more hushed, that's for sure.

"Oh, well, I wanted to say that I'd... Like, use it on you. To threaten to sic all of my connections on you if you call it a button-mashine game again."

"Alright, point taken. Uhh..." he takes an audible deep breath, "Listen, it's... good to hear your voice. I'm, as you know, not in the best spot right now."

"She can't hear you, I assume?" she says, the pit in her stomach growing once more. A feeling of dread wells up in her like bile. She feels as if she's about to throw up.

"No. Not here."

"Not here? You're not home?"

"N-No, I'm... Locked in the bathroom. That's all."

"Wait what," she says in disbelief, "What for?"

"I just needed, uhh... a little time off from her, you know?" he says, his voice a little shaky. Uhh, hello? Most obvious lie ever, here?

But she doesn't challenge it, not wishing to ruin his one moment of happiness today.

"I get that," she says, "But, uhh... I hope you're safe. I seriously do. I'm like MEGA-worried about you here."

"D-Don't be, Mukuro. I'm... I'll be fine," he says, forcing a laugh.

...Suspicious.

"I really hope you will be."

Not wishing to be caught in an endless loop of assurance, she shifts the topic over to something more fun. They continue talking for a while about a few things. Funny moments from her mercenary days, more overseas copypastas she's read, stupid licencing conflicts with her music...

She really hopes things will be better for him...

---

Curtains rising! Audience cheering! Monokuma Theatre-

"Hey hey hey! What are you doing?" Monokuma roars with rage, "Don't you realise? It's not just a Monokuma Theatre anymore!"

He points to somewhere off-stage, "Oh my dear Monomiiiii! Get over heeereee~!"

Timidly, the half-pink, half-white, diaper-clad rabbit walks on-stage.

"Hey, what are you acting so shy for? C'mon, show some spunk!"

"Uhh..."

"C'mooon, show it! Gomme that sweet assertiveness..." he puts his paws on his mouth, "Just like you do in bed."

"Awawawa!" Monomi yells, shocked, "D-Don't just reveal such embarrassing information like that!"

She promptly runs over to him, Monokums grabbing her by her paws.

...

Monokuma looks over, "Well? Come on, begin the show already!"

Oh, right! Uhh...

Curtains rising! Audience cheering! Monokuma Theatre-

"Monokuma & Monomi Theatre!" he angrily corrects.

Uhh... Let's try again.

Curtains rising! Audience cheering! Monokuma & Monomi Theatre! Commencing!!!

"...Nevermind, you've both taken WAY too long!" Monokuma shouts.

"What?" Monomi asks, "B-But you said you'd-"

Monokuma holds out his paws, his eyes going white and his body levitating. Suddenly... a massive snowstorm begins, and a powerful surge of ice envelops Monomi. Once it's all over, Monomi is encased in a massive, hexagonal block of ice.

"Oww!" Momomi shouts in pain, "You're not supposed to even know this spell!"

Monokuma droops, "My little sister has proven to be as useless as ever... Whatever! Next time, I'll hire someone else!"

Chapter Text

Makoto sits against the washing machine, which he tilted over on its side to block the door. He hasn't changed his position much, and as such, he's getting sore. He adjusts himself. That's slightly better. Not much, but it's better. This is definitely the most alienated he's ever felt in his own home.

Really. What was it with Kyoko? Why did she insist on doing it with him again? Was she simply too into it or something? Did she want to have power over him? He can't come up with a clear answer, but he does know one thing by this point: his opinion of her has lowered. He's not even sure she loves him anymore - heck, he's not even sure HE loves HER! She simply went way too far with her advances. He's gotta draw the line somewhere, and this is DEFINITELY beyond that line.

It's really weird. He used to know Kyoko as a reclusive, yet sweet girl once you manage to make her take off her mask. There was one day, where they were simply sitting together on a rolling, grassy field, watching the clouds move by. That was during their Hope's Peak days, must've been the final year. They were just sitting together - him on the right, her on the left. They wore simple, bright clothing. She even held his hand.

And then, suddenly, she hugged him. She leaned into him, breathing his scent. And... she started crying. They had plans to move together after Hope's peak, so it definitely had nothing to do with any potential drama regarding their graduation, but she was definitely crying. Tears were actually forming in her eyes. And when he looked at her properly, he saw the brightest, most wonderful smile he had ever seen. Definitely one of his fondest memories of that era, for sure.

And now, she's... changed. Not in a good way. Sure, part of the Kyoko that he used to know is still there, but she's way more controlling. And, uhh... She tends to resort to... physical measures. He never appreciates it... and come to think of it, he wonders if he ever learned anything from it. There must be a reason for her having given him a billion trust speeches beyond him just not being a good partner.

God dammit just thinking about those speeches of hers gives him a headache. Trust this, trust that. She LOVES throwing that word around more than she loves him, he's almost sure of that. He buries his face in his palm. Mukuro wouldn't do any of this...

...Somehow, the thought doesn't bother him. Mukuro is a fun girl. Beyond just her physical features, which he still finds rather nice, she's got quite a personality. She's quite rude at times, and even resorts to insults, but... Somehow, they don't bite as much as when Kyoko insults him. They even make him a little happy. Being told by Mukuro to kill himself for teasingly calling it a 'button-mashing game' hurts less than Kyoko saying he can't be trusted with anything for forgetting to remind her of a movie that she wasn't even gonna watch anyway.

And... Well, he'd not mind the prospect of a romantic relationship with Mukuro. No matter how much she might beat herself up over the terrible things she did, she's clearly changed for the better. He likes seeing that. He likes her high energy. But, that's all just a pipe dream now. He's already married to Kyoko, so he's just kinda... stuck with her.

The prospect of staying with Kyoko is no longer something he looks forward to. It's just... daunting, now. The very prospect daunts him.

But maybe he's just letting what just happened get to his head. It's also late. He checks his phone for good measure. 58% battery, 23:43 PM. Kyoko tends to have a strict bed time when not on a case, so now should be safe. First, though, he has to put everything back in place. He puts the towels back. He turns over the washing machine, now standing with a strange confidence... even though it's just an inanimate object. He pushes the plug into the socket, leaning over the washing machine to get to it. He then slides the machine properly into place, making as little noise as possible. Should be functional now. He slowly opens the door, making sure to prevent it from making noise. God this house needs oiling, and fast.

...But it might be intentional, knowing her. He slowly heads downstairs, hoping not a single wooden step makes any noise. He arrives at the living room, only illuminated by the streetlights outside and the red light emanating from the TV. He gets on the couch, facing away from the red light. Why... do they make those things so freaking eerie? He tries to ignore its existence, though he sometimes falls to the urge to look at that light, only to immediately regret that decision.

Needless to say, this was an awful night. This whole day just wasn't good. It was supposed to be fun. Instead, he got to the awful realisation that he might have fallen out of love with her. But... again, he's just stuck with her now. It doesn't matter how he feels about Kyoko. As long as she has anything to say about it, she won't let him go.

...Thinking about it, she has ALWAYS acted a tad bit possessive of him. That confession of hers had her firmly, confidently declaring that he's '[hers] forevermore'. She practically pounced on him like an animal that day. And while, at the time, he was rather flattered...

...now he's not so sure anymore.

He wakes up the next day to the scent of pancakes. The backrest of the couch blocks most of the light, making it slightly easier to get adjusted. A thin, furry yellow blanket has also been laid over him. He feels pleasantly warm.

Taking his time to get adjusted to the light, he turns to face the source of the pancakey scent. Right over the backrest, where the table stands, stands a tall stack of pancakes on a plate. Two more plates lay on the table, waiting for food to be laid on them.

"I see I did not need to wake you up," Kyoko says, standing right behind him. He lets out a slight shriek, immediately facing her, backing away into the backrest. She smiles softly, "Relax. I won't do anything. Come, those pancakes are not eating themselves," she says, making a beckoning gesture with her gloved hand. Makoto throws the blanket over his body, slowly standing up. He slowly approaches the table, taking his seat at one of the wooden chairs. The legs make a creaking sound as he slides it across the floor. Kyoko soon joins him on the other side of the table. She lets out a sigh.

"Before we begin eating, let me just say..." she begins, looking away for a brief moment, "I'm sorry about yesterday. I really should not have done that."

She looks at him, expecting a response. He scratches his cheek, frowning, "I'm.. glad, but..." he glares at her, "Next time I say no, you should... you know, actually listen."

"I know. Truthfully, I have no idea what came over me. Perhaps I was too excited. And, I'd go as far as to say that was..." she looks down at her hands, "one the biggest mistakes of my life. I really can't stress it enough, I'm terribly sorry."

He briefly feels at ease, but the way she looks at him... Those almost pleading eyes of hers... She's clearly expecting a specific response. He doesn't feel like stirring up drama so early in the morning, so...

"Apology accepted, Kyoko. But again, just don't do that again," he says. He feels awful saying it, but the almost content look on her face tells him he made the right move.

Breakfast goes by with no further issue. Delicious pancakes, to be sure. Kyoko's sure good at cooking. They quickly take a shower and brush their teeth afterwards. Kyoko goes back to her case files, and Makoto goes downstairs to give the TV some attention.

After a few tries, he turns it on with the remote. It immediately starts at a news channel.

"...renowned gambler Taeko Fujisaki, otherwise known by her alias, Celestia Ludenberg..."

Huh. Taeko Fujisaki. Her and Chihiro are still together, apparently... He's happy to hear that. ...Not that he's particularly interested in whatever potential gambling exploits she went on, so he immediately changes the channel to something more fun. Of course, his favourite anime is airing at this time. Yeah, this is what he wanted to see...

...somehow, he finds little enjoyment in it. Not after yesterday.

Bored, he turns to his phone. He finds that Mukuro messaged him again.

'hey'

'maoto'

'makoto*'

'hi'

'how r u'

'...busy?'

'cmon respond already (っ>Δ<)っ'

'hug guess a fgunny face didnt work'

'orz'

...Huh. He looks over at the TV. He decides to let the anime play out, having little interest in it.

'Hi, Mukuro.'

'Sorry for not responding. It's very early in the morning'

'YOU LIVE!!!'

'nice'

'sry. thought u were the type to get up like super duper early'

'because u live with kyoko, and she seems the yupe to get up like super duper early'

'is she transforming u into a mini kyoko or smth?w'

'You are right. We tend to get up rather early.'

'7 AM, actually.'

Every single day, with little fail. They take about an hour every day to do their morning routine and have breakfast. He checks the phone. 9:48 AM.

'I just woke up later today.'

'wow'

'anyway this is like kinda important'

'today i want u to comeover'

'no i need u to come over'

'this is very serious shit'

'can only be done in eprson'

'3pm'

'get on ut bike hy then'

...This is weird. Why would she want to...? What's so serious that...?

'Sorry, but Kyoko's here today. I'll have to ask her first.'

That's the message he opts with, hoping it's enough for Mukuro to understand. He heads upstairs to the bedroom, seeing Kyoko work on yet another case. "Hey, Kyoko. I wanna go bike around town later today."

Still focusing on her case, she replies, "Actually, I would much rather you stay home today."

"Oh," he mutters, "Alright. S-Sorry for asking that. Uhh, good luck on your case."

"Thanks."

Welp. That's a bust then. He relays this much to her,

'Sorry, Kyoko doesn't want me to leave.'

'idgaf'

'fuck kyoko'

'i really really need u to come over'

'idc iof the fucking emperor required ut luck to survivce a deadly illness or smth'

'idc if the goerm,ent had u guard a superrare 99999999999¥ diamond'

'this is very serious. it concerns u'

'if kyokos a good partner theres nothing u need to worry abt'

'just tell her u rly wanna go'

He backs away from the screen. His eyes widen. Mukuro's serious about this, huh. But, the prospect of going away to Mukuro's while Kyoko's home... She'll kill him!

'cant force u of course'

'and i wont'

'but this is best done today'

Though... if this is as important as Mukuro makes it out to be... then... Well, what can he do? Again, Kyoko will kill him if he goes. She'll absolutely lay into him for this. And... he'd betray her trust. Loathe as he is to admit it, she's right on that point. His feelings for Kyoko might be brought into question... but he's still her husband. He can't just divorce her. It'll absolutely crush her. And also... the courts will surely be on her side. Hope's Peak has long propelled the Kirigiri name out of obscurity, and her career has seen her making numerous connections. This would be a hopeless battle.

...maybe he won't have to divorce her. He'll just have to not live with her anymore.

He's not in the state to question the reasons for him to actually think about divorcing her. He already knows that there's a good reason for those thoughts. So...

'Okay. I'll be there.'

'3 PM?'

'yeah'

'cu then'

There. He did it.

---

He looks at his phone in unease. It's 15:00. 3 PM. It's time now. He'll have to go. He'll have to come over to Mukuro's. For a moment, he chides himself for going along with this. How is he going to handle this? Kyoko is definitely in the bedroom, working on some case, and he's just supposed to retrieve the key?

God, the thought almost leaves him shaking. How will he even handle going back? 'Oh, hi, Kyoko! Uh, my apologies for randomly going on a bike trip while you told me not to! Haha, I just really wanted to let off some steam I guess, I'm sorry'. Like that? As if.

Still, he can't back out. He'll just have to go for it. He'll just have to have hope. That everything will be fine. He takes a deep sigh. He tries to set his fears aside.

Let's do it.

He walks upstairs, right over to Kyoko's room. He opens it slowly, trying not to catch her attention, but the soor still creaks slightly. He slowly walks in, hoping beyond even the smallest of hopes that Kyoko didn't-

"Hi, Makoto." Kyoko says, looking at him from the chair, "Are you alright?"

"HUH? Oh, uhhhh..." he smiles awkwardly. He scans the room. He looks over to the nightstand on the other side of the bed. The key lies on it. "Yeah I'm okay thanks for asking."

"Really. After yesterday?" she asks, her voice somewhat sympathetic.

Makoto awkwardly jumps on the bed backwards, "Uhh, Yeah. No hard feelings against you. I'm fine now," he says. He can feel his heartbeat increasing under her glare. "I'm just checking up on you, so..." he trails off, his arm subtly reaching behind him.

"I see. I assure you I don't need you to do that. I'm doing perfectly okay myself."

"Uhh, great! Uhh, don't you have, like... a case to work on? Am I not distracting you?"

"It can wait. I'd rather keep looking at you. You're cute."

Despite what happened, he can't help but blush. "Aww, thanks! I, uhh... Thanks."

Okay, so getting Kyoko's attention back on her case won't work. He'll have to opt for a more direct method. So... God his heartbeat is killing him. Okay. Three, two... one... and...

He looks behind him. He quickly grabs the keys off of the nightstand, and makes his way off the bed as fast as possible. His escape is messy and noisy, and it catches her attention. He quickly slams the door shut, it making a loud, intense sound. He runs down the stairs, nearly tripping on several occasions.

"What are you doing, Makoto?" Kyoko asks, running after him. He doesn't answer her, running out of the front door, and towards the bike, trampling all over the dirt around it. It's a black bike with black wheels and brown handlebars. He desperately unlocks it, fumbling with the key, succeeding to do so before Kyoko opens the door. He gets on it, riding directly over the dirt. Kyoko opens the door, her expression clearly not good.

"Get back here!" she yells, running towards him, only stopping then she realises it's pointless to run after him. He kicks the paddles as fast as he physically can, disappearing into a corner. Thank goodness for that corner. Now Kyoko has no hope of chasing him with the car.

He bikes and bikes and bikes, eventually deciding to take it easy. There's no chance Kyoko is catching up at this point.

With enough time, he makes it over to her place. He places his bike by her house, and knocks on the door. It opens to a somewhat serious-looking Mukuro, reminiscent of her early Hope's Peak days. "Come in," she says. Makoto decides to follow suit, feeling uneasy.

Chapter Text

Makoto and Mukuro sit on the grey couch in the rather vacant living room. It's enough for her, but - with the slightest, faintest hope that he will get with her, she'll clearly need more. She's fucking loaded, she can afford it just fine. She has prepared some tea for both parties - her and Makoto. Makoto wears a white shirt, and Mukuro wears a black one, matched with black jogging pants.

Delicious, green tea. It can help soothe the soul. It also helps to prepare her for what she is about to do.

"So... Let's not waste any time. The reason I called you here," she declares, her face and voice dead serious. Makoto almost seems frightened by it. "There's something that has been left unaddressed. Something that happened last week. You left without any warning," she says, looking at him with pleading eyes, "Why?"

He goes pale at the question. Her stomach is turning violently. "Well, I... I forgot something, didn't I?"

"That can't be all there is to it. You said that Kyoko would do something. What exactly were you afraid of?"

He looks at her. His breath quickens, and consequently, hers does too, but only slightly. She really doesn't want to see him like this. Yet, she has to persevere. She has even gotten him to leave while Kyoko was home. And she's planning to milk the situation as much as she possibly can.

He doesn't answer her question.

"Answer me, Makoto!" she says, raising her voice, "It was clearly bad! Like do you really think I'd just let that go? 'Cause you're dead wrong!"

"I mean it wasn't that bad and we made it up, and... It wasn't that bad, Mukuro! I..." he forces a smile, "I promise!"

"Dude you're literally the worst liar ever. Like..." she looks at him. His face has gone pale. With her left hand, she reaches next to her for his right hand. She presses against his wrist... she almost jumps.

"Jesus fucking Christ, your heartbeat!" she shrieks, her face losing its colour, "Like what is this, 160 BPM? Mr 'it wasn't that bad'? Hello? Why the fuck are you practically having a heart attack for something that's 'not that bad'? Like... what did she do to you, Makoto?"

He takes a deep breath. "I... Kyoko, she... No, I can't answer it. Sorry, hehe! But... I'm fine, I really-"

"You're acting like you witnessed a fucking murder! You're... like... the OPPOSITE of fine! The absolute polar opposite!" she yells, tightening the grip on his hand. "Look, I... Just answer me, okay?" she says, her voice softer and more gentle, "Kyoko isn't here. She can't hear you. So... answer me." she pauses, "Please. Just answer me, okay? I..." her eyes start to sting, "I can't handle seeing you like this, Makoto!"

"...O-Okay! Fine!" he shouts, "I'll just say it. But it's..." he laughs, "Really not that bad, okay? Uhh..."

He clears his throat. "Let's start from the beginning, I guess. So... Kyoko wanted to see a movie with us, that was about... two weeks ago now. It was called, a... something. I completely forgot the name." he says. She nods along. Thinking about it, the whole freakout DID happen when she mentioned movies.

"She wanted to see it with me the next week, and she asked me to remember it for her. Well, long story short..." he laughs, "I didn't. So... Kyoko got really mad, and w-we had an argument, and, heh... We made up. That's it."

"That's it?" she asks, "That's all?"

"Yeah."

"What about the argument?"

His face somehow turns even more pale, his heartbeat quickens, "I-Is that really important?"

"Uhh... yeah?" she asks incredulously, "As a matter of fact, it kinda... is? What kinda argument was it?" she asks, "Come on, I won't bite. You can just tell me, okay? Like... Come on, Makoto!"

"Okay, fine. She... well, she had me sit down and..." he gulps, his words sounding like they're forced out, "She told me that I had broken her trust, and that I.... uhh... I couldn't be trusted anymore with anything, and..."

Her stomach drops, and the dread begins to rise like vomit. Her eyes start stinging more...

He takes a deep breath, and then another. He looks at her, his eyes betraying his obvious fear, "I spoke up against her and she punched me off the couch."

...

...

Her mouth is slightly agape, her face is completely pale by this point. She covers her mouth with her other hand.

"Wh-What..." she stutters, her voice shaky. Her breath hitches. The sunlight is more painful to her eyes. The faint sounds from outside are more unpleasant to her ears. Her stomach is burning in pain by this point, her dread having reached a peak. Looking at Makoto's face - the sweat and tears on his cheeks, his horrifically dilated pupils, his sickly pale skin - makes her heart feel like it's shattering into sharp, agonising pieces.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK???" she screams, her voice cracking gruesomely. "All of that for... For NOT REMEMBERING A FUCKING MOVIE?"

"M-Mukoro-"

She pulls him into a weak hug from the side, pressing his body flush against hers. Her eyelids are starting to get painfully wet. "I'm so sorry, Makoto..." she says, her voice choking.

"Mukuro, I... I mean, I guess she was wrong about that, but I still forgot the name of the movie, so... I mean, you can't completely blame her-"

"NO! T-This isn't your fucking fault!" she says, trying to find solace in her hug. She doesn't. "It's not your fault that... That Kyoko is such an abusive bitch!"

"HEY! Kyoko wasn't being abusive! She was wrong to punch me, but... I mean, I know what real abuse is like. And it's not just a single punch! I mean, that's all it-"

"Shut the fuck up, Makoto! For YOU of all people to say that? YOU? The one who helped me realise Junko was bad?"

"But you had it much worse-"

"I KNOW!" she yells, her throat hoarse, "That doesn't fucking make this GOOD! Like, I would know! And I say that Kyoko's just... and I'm not sorry for saying this, a fucking psycho! If you asked me, I'd say just fucking..." she braced herself, "Leave her! She doesn't deserve you!"

For a moment, he makes not a single sound. Just his faint breathing. His warmth feels somewhat comforting. Somehow, she feels like she should be happier. After all, now her suspicions are finally confirmed. Their relationship is an abusive one. She finally has something that can't be explained away. Now she can get him to leave her. But... No. There's no way she can feel even remotely happy about this.

After a while, he starts sobbing. He wraps his arms around Mukuro. She tries to comfort him, rubbing his back, but it's not long before she too succumbs to the tears. Man, poor thing. How long has he had to live like this? Clearly long enough for him to think it's somewhat normal.

Eventually, the crying dies down. "Mukuro..." he mutters, "Thank you. I think I can talk now. About.... yesterday."

"Y-Yesterday?" she asks, that nasty feeling kicking back in full force. Her throat hurts.

"Yeah. I... this is really embarrassing, but... that day, we were trying... something new. In bed."

"Something new? Like what?"

"Uhh... p-p-p-p... W-Well, you know!"

...Right. They did talk about that yesterday when she went to the store. "Pegging?" she asks, making use of her knowledge. And then she comes to the realisation that this is likely connected to the bad thing Kyoko tried. Her eyes widen. "W-W-Wait, don't tell me...!"

"I mean, uhh, it was FUN, don't get me wrong, but... I had enough after one round, but Kyoko..."

He pauses, every second feeling like an hour to Mukuro...

"...didn't. She tried to go again, even when I didn't want to. I... managed to get out before anything happened, thankfully... hehe."

...

...

Holding him just feels agonising. She feels like she's holding a dying pet. She doesn't know what to say to him. She rubs her eyes, her hands stained with tears.

"I'm so sorry, Makoto. I... wish I knew what happened."

...

"And..." she can't help but laugh, her throat burning in agony, "Man, the very fucking NANOSECOND i get my hands on her... Oh man. She's fucking dead the moment she meets me."

"H-HEY! Please don't-"

"Oh, uhh... sorry."

Just her very name could be enough to inspire her to commit horrific crimes against humanity. The feeling itself is not particularly alien to her, but to such an intense degree... She's never felt it this much before in her entire life.

It's a feeling of pure, unfiltered hatred. She has never had any hard feelings against those she killed; it was just something she had to do. Thanks to Makoto, she grew to dislike that part of herself, and was inspired to better herself. Even Junko, who's been out of her life for about a decade, she can't bring herself to hate.

But this? Someone else grievously hurting her best friend like this? Just because he doesn't meet the utterly fucking RIDICULOUS sky-high standards she has for him?

She has always mildly disliked Kyoko, just out of a petty sense of jealousy. But now, she knows. She knows how she feels about Kyoko now.

"Mukuro? I actually..." he begins. She briefly wonders if he has even more incidents to talk about, but... "I don't know how I feel about her anymore."

She hugs him tighter, "Tell me all about it."

"I mean, after yesterday? I..." he sighs, "I don't think I can say I love her anymore. She just... went way too far. With that."

"She absolutely did," she says, her voice cold, not bothering to hide the intense surge of emotions. She hugs him closer. "I'm telling you. That? That should be the straw that broke the camel's back."

"I guess..."

---

Hugging their sorrows out, Mukuro decides to put to good use what she prepared yesterday. If Kyoko's gonna be fucking pissed about his departure anyway, might as well go all the way. She returns to the living room, "So..." two cans of ice-cold beer in her hands, "You a lightweight?"

"Uhh... No idea, honestly." he says. He seems a little out of it. Likely because of what Kyoko did to him. And, maybe this might not be the PHENOMENALEST of ideas, but it's good to let loose every once in a while.

"Kinda expected you to be against the whole thing." she says, "I mean you look like you're fucking twelve, so..."

"...I'm nearing thirty."

"And I own a private jet. Like, cool story, bro." she says, putting pressure on her voice. She presses one of the cans against his cheek, "With cheeks as pinchable as those?"

"You're also nearing thirty, aren't you?" he remarks sarcastically.

...

...

...

"Fuck you."

He giggles.

"Well, here," she says, putting the can down on the small table by the couch, "Let's forget about Kyoko for today, alright?"

"...Sure. I mean, nothing to lose now, so..." he giggles. He takes the can in his right hand, opening it loudly. He puts the can to his mouth, and takes large sips, immediately swallowing. He gently puts the can on the table with a strange expression on his face. He wipes his mouth with his hand.

"You like it?" she asks, opening her own can.

"It's actually pretty gross," he says, "I prefer sake."

"Shit's expensive, though," she says, taking a sip, immediately swallowing. He takes another sip right after, his movements noticeably more clumsy. Yet, he still manages to put the can on the table gently. She decides to hold off on her own can for now.

"Aren't you really rich?"

"It's, like, a matter of principle, Makoto. I mean, why spend like thousands of yen on sake when you can spend less than that on beer? You're literally burning money for the same result."

He leans back into the couch. The sun shines in from outside, it's noticeably set after everything that happened today. She'll make sure he's not returning until the sun sets.

...Of course, the suspiciousness of disappearing for a whole day isn't lost on her. She knows Kyoko'll definitely be on his ass for that. She has an idea for that, however. One, she'll just come up with a lie for him. Two, he's GOING to pack his things over there and get out. There's nothing Kyoko can do to stop him at that point. When he starts living here, she's lost him forever. Ha. Serves her right.

---

"Mukuro, I have a really funny joke for you!" he says, hardcore techno playing from a somewhat crappy speaker. It's not too loud, else it might upset the neighbours.

"Well, shoot!" she says.

"What's, uhh, what's a skeleton's favourite... i, ins, instru...ment?" he mutters, "It's the xy, uhh, it's the... Ahaha, I forgot, sorry," he laughs unnaturally hard. And only after two cans. Geez this kid is light.

"It's okay," she says, taking another sip. She clings to him, the urge to make out with him right here starting to well up within her. Of course, she's not stupid enough to do that, but the urge definitely exists.

Just looking at his smile makes butterflies flutter in her stomach. Just the same way it always has. Even if under the influence of alcohol, seeing him genuinely happy like this... To be able to let go in a safe, secure environment where he will never be hurt...

It makes her happy.

---

The sun sets, the sky a pretty, dark blue looking out of the window by the couch. Looking out a window on the opposite side would reveal a pretty sunset. The alcohol has since worn off. Makoto is back to his regular self, even if somewhat more morose now. They've sustained themselves on cheap, store-bought food for dinner. Man, Kyoko must be fucking FUMING now. The thought brings her a strange kind of joy.

But, also... they're on the couch. Makoto is sitting upright, Mukuro is up against him. Natural light is quickly dissipating. All in all... the perfect opportunity.

"Hey, I have something to tell you," she says, the words rolling off her tongue. Alright. This. This is IT. No turning back after this.

"What is it?"

She grabs him by the shoulders,, "Can I, uhh..." Fuck, this is hard. Still, she HAS to do this. There's simply no other chance to do it that's quite as good as this. "It's a surprise. Please, uhh... don't hate me for it, okay?"

"S-Sure, go ahead with... whatever you wanna do."

"Alright."

The awkward dialogue gives way to an even more awkward silence. Her hands are almost shaking. She looks at his barely-illuminated face. She braces herself. She summons every single last possible ounce of courage that's still left in her. She closes her eyes, moves in closer...

...and places her lips on his. She then pulls away, the hard part over, and gives herself no time to agonise over what she's about to say,

"I love you, Makoto."

---

Curtains rising! Audience cheering! Monokuma Theatre-

"No no no NO!" Monokuma roars. "God, do you just... NOT read your own mail?"

Actually, you don't send me any m-

"It's..." he pauses, "THAT'S YOUR CUE, MY ADORABLE KUBS!!!"

"O-Oh, Right! I forgot!"

"Not so loud, Daddy! You'll upset the baby!"

"Wait, whose baby is it again?"

"Ha, definitely not Monodam's! Fucker's probably got a micropenis!!!"

"..."

...Oh, brother.

They, sigh walk in on the podium, gallantly turning to the audience. Right, the intro.

Curtains rising! Audience cheering! Monokuma & Monokubs Theatre! Commencing!!!

...

"Well?" Monokuma asks, "You're supposed to share your funny story, right?"

"I..." Monotaro sighs, "I forgot to tell them. And... I forgot the story too."

"What?" Monophanie acts in shock, "You forgot?"

"Hey, he just said that." Monosuke says, "You sayin' you're starting to forget too?"

"Hey, enough blabbering over there!!!" Monodam roars. Right, something we can both agree on. "Just make up something!"

...

...

...

"Hey, uhh..." Monotaro begins, "Whose baby IS it?" he asks shyly.

"It's a secret! Teehee!"

Please keep it that way.

"It's mine, obviously!" Monokid shouts annoyingly, "Isn't it, like, a common NTR trope for the girl to get pregnant?"

"ACTUALLY-IT'S-NTS-NOT-NTR."

"Whatever, same difference! Both have loser cucks!"

"IT'S-ACTUALLY-DIFFERENT-"

"God, just hearin' ya talk is getting on my nerves."

HEY! Monodam's the only cool one!

"It's obviously mine! Monotaro shares her with me the most, doesn't she?" Monosuke argues.

"Hey, uhh... Did I ever share you, Monophanie?" Monotaro asks curiously.

"When you were away for band practice, yeah. A girl casn only go for so long without cock, you know?"

"HEY HEY HEY!" Monokuma roars, "Did I hear ne of my adorable children say 'cock'?" he asks.

The Kubs are, thankfully, stunned into silence.

"It's -my- baby, by the way. I borrowed her when none of you noticed. Puhuhu..."

"Oh no! The secret is out! Now it's no longer a surprise, Monotaro!"

"It's okay, honey. You didn't need to surprise me," he says. God, please make it stop. "Just hearing you are going to bear the healthiest kids possible is enough for my tummy to fill with butterflies... sniff"

Monokuma looks at them. "...Alright, you kids seem to be completely useless. God, and here I thought adding other people to my show would make a difference..." He shoos them away, "Alright, away with you! Shoo! Go away!" he says. They run away.

"Oh, and by the way... WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT???" he asks me. "What was with all that complainng about my adorable children? You've traumatised them!"

Uhh, I really don't think I tr-

"God, you're even worse than those Kubs! You know what? You're fired!"

F-Fired?

"Yeah! Fired! I'm just gonna hire someone else! Now, go away! Be a wage slave to somone else!"

...Whatever.

Chapter Text

...What?

No, what? What in the world?

Mukuro? Loves him? Romantically?

Well, it's true that she likes him platonically, at least, but... romantically? His brain short-circuits trying to comprehend it. Mukuro likes him. Loves him. Somehow, the thought fills him with a distinct, bright, warm feeling...

"Wait, you're saying..." Makoto asks, having just received a kiss on top of everything else.

"Yeah, I... I love you! There, I said it again. I..."

Mukuro backs away from him, "I've loved you ever since I saw your kindness. That adorable smile of yours, back then. It made my day, y'know. I've loved hanging out with you. I've loved hearing you talk. I've just loved you so much it, like, hurts! Like all this time! I really love you, Makoto! E-Even if you're with someone else, it feels good saying it! I... I love you so, so, so god-damn fucking much!"

...

...

Mukuro buries her face in her hands. She's shaking. If Makoto listens closely, he can hear her repeating something...

"...ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmyg..."

She laughs a little, "ohmyfuckinggodiactuallyfuckingdiditthisisn'tadrillijustfuckingconfessedtohimwhatthefuck..."

Gently placing his hand on her shoulder is enough to snap her out of her trance. She raises her face out of her hands, looking at him, "Mukuro, I, uhh..." he tries to come up with something, "I appreciate it, actually," he says. It's the truth, honestly. He likes her, that much he knows by now. "Also, uhh..." he scratches his cheek, pushing aside every little bit of guilt for what he's about to say, "The feeling is mutual. I like you too, Mukuro."

For a while, the information is processing in her mind. Well, that's what it looks like to him.

Then, the information is fully processed. And her mouth contorts into a smile. A big, dopey, adorable smile. Her breathing gets noticeably louder.

"You really do just keep touching girls' hearts," she says. "My heart's, like, going totally crazy right now! This really is... just... a dream come true. To me."

"I can believe that..." he says, laughing awkwardly. Man, Kyoko will NOT like this. She is absolutely going to give him hell for today alone. And not to mention what she'll do if she somehow finds out...

...Somehow, he can't bring himself to care. He has nothing to lose at this point. A part of him accepts it, he's... kinda done with Kyoko. They had a good run... for the first half. Then she got controlling. A little... too physical. And everything started to slowly get worse. And... Well, here's his best friend, who he knows he's attracted to. Who he knows is attracted to him. Someone he can always turn to. He knows he shouldn't do it. He knows it's wrong. But he's only human. He has urges, and sometimes those urges just get too strong.

So, he ignores his fears, his guilt. He takes a deep breath, and looks her in the eyes. Directly, in the eyes. Interrupting another bout of rapid-fire mantras, he says, "Say, Mukuro. I know this is gonna be..." he scratches his cheek, "A little out of left field, but... do you wanna kiss some more?"

"I mean... Like, hell fucking yeah? Ahahaha, fucking YES I wanna kiss you!"

"I see, then," he says. Now, he doesn't usually do this kind of thing. He's always been... a BIT of a doormat. Give him puppy eyes and he's putty in your hands. But if he knows Mukuro reasonably well, and he hopes he's not screwing anything up...

He gently pushes her to the couch, crawling over her, "Like this?"

...She's always been one to take orders.

Mukuro goes wide-eyed, a big blush appearing on her face. She smiles in shock. He lets his weight rest on her, their clothes doing very little to block their bodily heat. He puts his left hand on her hair, and worms his right arm under her body with some effort. And he closes his eyes and puts his lips on hers. He stays this way for a few seconds. Mukuro lets out a faint moan in her mouth. He ultimately pulls away, opening his eyes to a very red, very taken aback, yet at the same time, very happy Mukuro. And he feels like he did something right.

She laughs, "Geez, thought you were still a herbivore boy!" she exclaims, letting her surprise be apparent, "I mean, not complaining, not at all! Like, holy shit! I'm... Gotta be dreaming."

"Does that mean I did well?" he asks, just to make sure.

"Dude, you, like, literally made me feel like I won the lottery here! You did awesome! And I want more!" she says, her eyes faintly pleading, "C'mere, kiss me more!"

He smiles. She really is cute... Well, no point disobeying her. He once more places his lips on hers, savouring the feeling. He presses his tongue against her lips. With some hesitation, she opens them slightly, and he uses that as an opportunity to invite himself in. Her mouth tastes very distinctly of beer. And while her tongue's movements are a little hesitant at first, she gets into the swing of things rather quickly. Right, this IS the first time she's done something like this...

She throws her arms over his body, pulling him towards her. Her moans gradually grow louder as they kiss, only stopping when Makoto pulls away for air, before soon returning to the fun. Somehow, all feels well right now.

She eventually hits some sort of peak, judging by how her voice suddenly spikes. He pulls away in worry, a trail of saliva only surviving the outside world for seconds before snapping, "Are you okay?" he asks. If Mukuro's grip on him wasn't so intense, he'd have fully pulled away from her.

She looks at him as if he's some sort of god, "Perfect," she says, "But, uhh..." her eyes look away, "it's, like, really embarrassing to tell you this, so... Uhh, how do I say this..."

A beat passes, with Mukuro saying nothing. With her cheeks glowing pink, she takes a brief sigh.

She laughs nervously, "I think I just came. Right now. Just, from... kissing you... Yeah."

Another beat passes, neither one saying anything, while Makoto can physically feel his cheeks redden,

Mukuro realises what she says, and her face contorts in embarrassment, "Oh my god, I ACTUALLY came from kissing you. That's..." her voice grows small, "...gotta be a new low..."

"It's okay," he says with a smile. He laughs, "I'm actually kinda flattered."

Her eyes snap to him, her surprise very blatant indeed, "W-Wait, really?"

"Yeah. Actually, I've never felt this..."

Yet another beat passes. Makoto knows the general point he wants to get across, but finding the right word for it...

"...appreciated in a long time," he decides to settle with, "Oh and, uhh, could you let go of me? Your grip's..." he laughs, "Pretty strong."

She does as he says with little hesitation. His poor body is finally allowed some breathing room. He gets off of her, resting against the couch. He helps her up, too. She sits on his right.

"You know, I just realised..." he begins, looking at her, "I kinda forgot you could just kill me if you wanted to."

"I would never," she says, almost looking personally offended.

"I know, but... Well, if you really wanted to for some reason, this is just hypothetical... Well, you could just do it. Immediately. I don't know, I just find it funny how it only occurred to me now."

"Again, I would never."

"And again, I know. But, even now that I do know, I somehow... don't feel threatened at all. Isn't that funny?"

She looks like she's pondering his question, "Huh. Yeah, that IS funny..."

"Right? Somehow, I've felt safer with you than I've felt with Kyoko for... uhh, the past few years, probably. Despite that."

Her gaze towards him grows a little sombre.

"Like, honestly... I think I'm kinda over Kyoko now," he says, "I know I shouldn't say it about my own wife, but she's... Well, I'm just gonna get home and tell her we're done," he says, "Again, I know this is not... great, but I really don't wanna live like that any longer. I wanna," he laughs in exasperation, "actually be... happy. With where I stand."

"I agree," she says, "I'm, like, obviously super biased here, but I agree. One hundred percent. When you get there, just tell her. And after that..." she looks around, "There's always room for an extra guy here!" she proclaims boldly, before shrinking into her couch, "After one shopping trip, I mean."

"Sounds great!" he says, "I'd love to live here, honestly."

"Th-Thanks."

...

...

...

"M-Makoto, this is probably gonna be really weird, but..." she takes a deep breath, "I'd like to... I'd like to suck your fingers."

He looks at her in confusion, "Really? Why?"

"It's, like, been kind of a thing for me for a while. No idea how to explain, but, I kinda... like fingers, I guess. You could say it's a fetish. So..." she puts her right hand on his right hand, clutching it softly, "Can I?"

"Sure," he says, finding little reason to refuse her. She takes that as her cue, and holds his hand to her mouth, She puts two of them in her mouth. This... This is a pretty weird sensation, honestly. But somehow, the way her tongue slithers around his fingers, the weird, wet, warm feeling... How clearly in her element she looks, how she hums in delight... Not to sound like a broken record, everything feels right. He honestly can't imagine why she likes this, but he's not one to judge. Especially not when she's so happy doing it.

She pulls his fingers out of her mouth, trying to gather up her own saliva along the way. A blush forms in her face.

"Did you like it?" he asks.

"Yeah. It was... k-kinda therapeutic... A-Am I weird for that?"

"No, you weren't," he says, "I don't know why you like it, but... I don't know. Having someone be so..." he scratches his cheek, "Head over heels for me, is nice. It feels nice. You could say I like being liked."

"I assume Kyoko didn't make you feel that way?"

"There was one time," he says, "We went on a date the other day, where she coddles me all day. We, uhh..." he scratches his cheek, "We m-made out on a bench somewhere, and she carried me. It was kinda nice. Uhh, only kinda. Something felt weird. I think I know why now."

"Only one time?" she asks, looking at him with a small frown.

"In recent memory, I guess. Anyway, uhh... Somehow, it felt a little... too, calculated. Like, how slot machines use bright lights and sounds to keep you playing. You know, like that?"

"Huh. That's, like, quite a way to put it."

"Thanks. I know that from junior high. They did a whole thing on gambling addiction. Uhh, anyway, then you asked me to hang out one day. And I felt more comfortable than with the date me and Kyoko had. More in my element, you could say."

"That's fucked," she says.

"Yeah. Uhh, I wanna say thanks. For everything."

"It was really, like, no problem whatsoever," she says. She ruffles his hair, "You did great, by the way. Telling me all that must have literally been really hard."

"I only confessed because you put me on the spot."

"That doesn't matter, you could have just NOT confessed. Like seriously, props to you!"

He looks away bashfully, "Th-Thanks."

He takes a moment to compose himself. "Actually, I think I'll go," he says. "I'll go home, break the news to Kyoko, and then pack my things. Within a few days, I'll be here, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan," she says, putting a hand on his back, "Go get her!" she says.

"I will."

---

And so, he happily waves her goodbye as he steps on his bike. As he makes his way home, though, feelings well up within him. It's getting a little hard to look ahead of him. Not just because of the impending dark.

He's actually planning on breaking up with her. WIth Kyoko, the one he has sworn to be with. His own wife. And not to mention the things he did with Mukuro... Making out with her, letting her lick his fingers, even confessing his recently-realised love to her...

He steps off his bike. He wonders how he could've brought himself to betray her trust that way. She'd be devastated if she knew. He leans his head against the handlebar, letting his tears flow.

He can't sugarcoat what he just did. He actually cheated on her. No matter how he feels about Kyoko, that's just... You don't do that. You shouldn't do that. Ever. And he did it anyway. It's just wrong.

Yet he has to go ahead with his plan. He has to confront Kyoko about his feelings. This just can't continue anymore.

But even that he has trouble thinking about. After all, it was just a simple punch. It wasn't even an injury or anything, just a minor annoyance. She flew off the handle a little, but... It's stupid to pretend it's real abuse. Mukuro was just trying to be nice. She suffered through real abuse. Makoto just got hit sometimes for his own screw-ups. And he even had the audacity to talk about it to Mukuro. Even if it's common sense to hold your relationship quarrels to yourself.

He's a terrible husband.

Maybe the whole break-up thing isn't a good idea after all. It was just something he said he'd do in the heat of passion. But, something in him wants to selfishly prioritise his own happiness. He wants to pursue this whole thing anyway. Seems like Kyoko was right. He really can't be trusted with himself. Kyoko could at least keep him on a leash before he does anything stupid. Before his own bad luck haunts him.

But he doesn't want to be kept on a leash. It just feels suffocating.

...Whatever. Let's just go home.

The trip concludes with little fanfare. He rides straight through the dirt, since there's no point in keeping it undisturbed by now. He looks at the entrance, finding himself hesitant to enter. Still, he must fight onwards. The sun has almost fully set at this point. He walks to the front door, each step feeling heavier than the next. He knocks against the door.

And it opens. Kyoko looks at him, for once showing emotion. Her brows are furrowed, her glare is so venomous it almost makes him feel sick. In other words... She's absolutely furious.

"Come in," she commands, her voice only barely sounding relaxed. He listens to her, a weird sense of confidence welling up within him. Maybe he can be selfish. Just this once.

Chapter Text

And so, he's left alone with another schoolmate. He looks at the blank sheet of A4 paper, trying to envision in his head what he's going to make. He loses his eyes. He sees a beautiful picture of Makoto. His soft, fluffy hair waving in the wind, his lips hanging slightly open, his adorable, blushy cheeks, his...

He begins roughly sketching out the pose. It doesn't look quite right; the perspective is way off. It doesn't look like he's facing another direction, he just looks more... diagonal. Oh well, he can try again.

And so, it comes out wrong once again. He looks similarly diagonal.

This is getting frustrating. He can't go on like this. At this rate, his pencil will wear down from all the drawing. The sheet already looks like a bunch of erased scratches.

He tries again, and lo and behold, same result. Once again, a diagonal Makoto. Well, he can't always be a good artist. Maybe he can still salvage this-

"Dude," someone behind them says. He looks behind him, seeing a girl with short, black hair that looks like it hasn't been met with a brush in at least ten years. Her boobs happen to be on the bigger side, too. "I guess you don't suck as much as I thought if you're seriously trying to depict Makoto, but... Look, just, let me help. This isn't a question. If I see you fucking up like this any more, I think I'll kill myself."

"She says that a lot," Kobayashi says, "Just let her do her thing."

The girl takes a seat next to him, reminding him of the utterly nauseating smell once more. His face wrinkles up in her presence. He'll have to put up with it, though. She takes a sheet of A4 paper, and draws a square.

"Okay, we have a square here. We want to turn it into a cube. But if you just do it like this," she says, drawing the edges evenly, "It looks, well, fine, but if you draw a little landscape around it..."

She draws a squiggly line across the sheet, representing grass. "See how horribly out of place it looks?"

"Yeah."

"So, to make it look, you know, actually real, you'll have to make the lines look like they're going off into the horizon. That means," she erases the 3D lines she drew. On the right side of the square, she draws one line from the top right corner, and one line from the bottom right corner, both of them converging. She connects the lines with another line, "You have to draw lines like this. See how the lines are converging?"

"Yeah, I see," he says. "I think I kinda get it, but... what if it's slightly off?"

"Don't worry about it. Perspective doesn't need to be perfect."

And with those words, she returns to her chair. Suddenly, the brutal scent decreases in intensity... God, how do these girls SURVIVE in here?

---

And so, he finishes his drawing. Makoto, with a wide smile, cute blush, casual pose and a pointy ahoge. Admittedly... it fucking sucks. The proportions are WAY off. But it certainly looks better than his previous attempts. It fills him with a distinct feeling of hope. Maybe things will get better.

The girl who just gave him an unprompted lesson on how to draw in perspective looks at him again. "...Dude, this blows," she complains. She takes his drawing, looks at it, and crumples it up into a ball, trying to throw it into a trashcan on the other side of the classroom. She fails; the ball lands right next to it. "Ya really gonna disrespect Makoto like that?"

"HEY! RENA!!!" Anzu yells, pointing at the poster with the rules.

"Oh, fuck you, Anzu," she replies, "What did you think letting someone like him..." she pays good attention to the rules, "...uhh, not be, upheld, to a certain standard?"

Anzu takes the crumpled ball, and brings it back to Shiro, who's a little too shocked to reply to anything. At least the perfume she has on is a nice change of pace. "I'm so sorry for that, Shiro. These girls can... uhh, be a little rowdy. Please don't mind them," she says. She opens the crumpled-up ball, taking a good look at it. "It's actually not half-b-"

"IT FUCKING SUCKS. Jesus do you just not have eyes or something, are you, are you fucking blind?" the girl named Rena yells. She pokes the drawing Anzu is holding with her finger, "Look at this shit! Are you actually going to tell me that this is 'not half-bad'?"

"Anzu, just shut up," Kobayashi asks, "I'm tired of your whining. Shiro tried to honour Makoto, didn't he? You saw him agonising over his lack of drawing skills."

"What she said," Anzu says, "I've already got enough on my mind at this point."

"You've... What's going on, actually?" he asks.

"Do you happen to know anyone named Tomoko?"

"...No, I don't. What about it?"

"She's a member of the Fan Club. Uhh, a few days ago, she tried to confess to Makoto. She had a whole love letter and everything," she says. The words make SHiro feel a strange tightness in his chest, "But when she was about to approach him, she got caught by another member, and she got beat up real bad."

"Another member...?" he asks.

"Uhh, don't worry, she's no longer here. I kicked her out. But, uhh... Tomoko wasn't seen again. I wonder how she's doing."

"...That sucks."

"It does. Uhh, well, I, I like this drawing," she says, casting a brief glance at the Rena girl, "Uhh, if you wish to do more, let me know."

"I'm good, actually. I think I'll go," he says.

"Oh. Uhh, have a good day, then."

"You too."

Shiro gets up from his seat. But, Kobayashi puts a hand on his shoulder. She gets her head close to his ear, and whispers, "Hey, don't tell anyone I said this, but this place is fuckin' nuts. If you ask me, Tomoko probably killed herself or something. She always went on and on about being a sacrifice to Makoto, and I think she actually did something like that. Just, just to let you know, okay? Have a good day."

...Okay.

---

Shiro steps outside. Immediately, the air is ten times more pleasant. Despite the air being near odourless, it smells like heaven compared to... that.

...Maybe the Makoto Fan Club is a bad idea. Those girls are way bigger losers than he thought. And not in the fun way. That is the worst first impression he has ever experienced. The air smells like a corpse baking in the sun, the girls are as mean as he'd imagined them, and apparently a member probably killed herself.

...Yeah. He's a member of that now.

On the other hand, it's nice to see Makoto get recognised like that. A place for people crushing on Makoto. A place for people like him. Even if it's less than ideal, it's something for him. It's a place where he's met more acceptance for his sexuality than at home.

He'll probably have to be careful, however.

Chapter Text

Hana Yamazaki, of the Hope's Peak Reserve Course.

That's all she is. That's all she ever will be. And yet, she was kicked out. Kicked out for making sure that Makoto only gets the best of the best. Honestly, what was Tomoko thinking? Did she seriously think that she was worth even a modicum of his attention? To be allowed within ten feet of him?

Honestly, hauling her off was already hard. Having her be within such close proximity of Makoto made her feel like he was being violated. To think a stupid, lowly Reserve Course student could possibly hope to rise up to Makoto's lofty standards... He'd spit on her the moment he sees her inferiority.

And now, for some reason, another girl has the bright idea to try and pull the same shit. Stupid Satsuki, detailing her plans right in the open like that...

Stupid Satsuki, having her dorm room be so close to Hana's. Stupid Satsuki, having left her bag unattended for a trip to the bathroom. Stupid Satsuki, leaving her dorm room key in it. Maybe she might be retarded or something.

And stupid Satsuki for thinking that she will ever get to confess. Fucking dumbass.

She patiently waits until midnight strikes, and everyone is asleep. From there, she walks out of her own dorm, key to Satsuki's room and her phone in one hand and a pillow in the other. She opens the door with minimal effort. And there she is. Satsuki, sleeping like a baby. She smiles to herself. Satsuki is laying on her back. Her hair blends into the night. This makes things way easier.

Careful not to disturb anything, she walks over to the side of her bed. It's small. She looks adorable, looking so peaceful. She gently lifts up her blanket. It's hard to see in the night, but her boobs are clearly visible. Fucking slut.

Well, at least Makoto will never have to be bothered by her ever again. Now, she has practised this exact maneuvre a few times before in her own room. Now's the time for the execution. Not letting the potential of failure get in her way, she gently lays the pillow on Satsuki's head, careful to keep her awake. And then, the most crucial step. She jumps onto the pillow. This startles Satsuki awake, but at this point, it's too late for her. Now, she'll just have to be patient.

Satsuki's limbs flail about wildly, her arms focusing on the pillow impeding her breath. Hana puts all of her weight into it, allowing no escape. Satsuki screams into the pillow, vaguely pleading for her to get off the pillow, for someone to help her. Stupid Satsuki, pleading for help at night, while everyone is sleeping. She checks her phone. 00:39.

Over time, Hana keeps checking her phone, waiting for Satsuki's desperate struggle to end. By 00:45, her attempts grow weaker. There's noticeably very little force in her arms - while before it felt like she was actually getting pushed up, now it feels more like a really bad massage. She wagers that Satsuki barely has enough strength to lift a chair. Her voice has grown weaker, too. Her desperation used to be clearly audible, now she has to strain her ears to hear anything from her.

By her next check, 00:57, she gets a little bored. While Satsuki is barely struggling, Hana is watching an essay about the speedrun history of a game she has never played before.

By 01:01, Satsuki's movements have stopped. The video goes into detail about framerules. Must surely be exciting stuff, but...

She pauses the video. She checks Satsuki's left hand's wrist. There's still a pulse. She keeps going.

As the video explains a glitch used to save a second in speedruns, it's already 01:23. She checks Satsuki's hand again, and...

No pulse. Nothing. She smiles to herself. Satisfied with herself, she gets off the pillow, and removes it from Satsuki's face. She looks at it, using her phone as a light to shine on it.. Her eyes are wide open in panic, her mouth is wide open in a vain effort to breathe. She waves a hand over her eyes. They don't track it. They stay perfectly still.

And now, to truly confirm her suspicions. She spends a few minutes, gathering up as much saliva in her mouth as she possibly can. It takes a few minutes, but by the end, her mouth is practically about to burst. She then gets close to her face, and unloads all of her contents into Satsuki's mouth, not missing a single drop. There's no response whatsoever. She shines her phone into Satsuki's mouth. There's a layer of liquid at the bottom.

She giggles to herself. What a fucking slut. Now, she can also check something. She lifts the sheets off Satsuki's body. To her surprise, she IS wearing panties. Guess she's not as much of a whore as she thought. She worms her hand under Satsuki's panties, feeling the wetness of her slit. Wow, this actually got her wet? Weirdo.

Hana decides to have a little more fun with her. She takes off her panties, and puts her face to Satsuki's crotch. She licks it, collecting as much of her nectar as possible, surprised when she's hit with a distinctively pungent taste. It's... It's fucking piss. She peed herself. Wow, she's even more pathetic than she thought.

It doesn't hold Hana back, though. She's always kinda had a watersports kink, so this is more of a plus than anything. This, too, could be considered nectar. She laps it up like a dog, trying to gather up as much of it as she can, careful to not swallow any of it.

Once she's satisfied, she spits it all into Satsuki's mouth, and as usual, no response is elicited from her. And now, for the final touch, she grabs Satsuki's panties, and shoves it into her mouth. She manages to fit all of it in, even. Wow. What a slut, truly.

Well, this is it. Satsuki's dead now; she can't pose a threat to Makoto anymore. She returns to her own dorm, content. Though, she'll have to brush her teeth to get the taste of pee out of her mouth.

She falls asleep that day with ease, and a gentle smile on her face.

Chapter Text

Leading a club is tough. Leading a fanclub for a guy with like a billion fans is hell.

It's just a crush. Makoto Naegi is a cutiepie. He is endlessly kind, despite probably having every reason not to be. She wants to fuck him really bad. There's almost a primal need for her to do it with him. One that she can control, however, because she's a normal human being who has at least a modicum of self-control. She wishes she could say the same about most of her members.

It is a very surreal experience to wake up, do your morning routine, and step out of her dorm room, only to see strange people who do NOT work here. To see two whole rooms be sectioned off by cops. That... If she's not mistaken, those are Hana and Satsuki. God, what did Hana do THIS time?

The announcement bell rings. Ding, dong, dong, ding. It must have something to do with that, surely.

"All members of the Reserve course, please assemble at the gymnasium. There is an important announcement we need to make."

Yup, definitely to do with that. She begins wondering what has happened to Satsuki. God, she was SO innocently passionate about Makoto. She could tell her intent was a pure one. She saw Makoto not as a cutie to get in the pants of, but as someone she wanted to grow old with. Well, that's the feeling she got, at least. The reality could always have been drastically different.

The concerned conversations around her go in one ear and out the other. She doesn't care. She can't find herself to. As she walks, she hears multiple of these conversations. And again, she can't care about any of them. They're like white noise. Except that would've been easy to drown out. No, this is more akin to a random, non-repeating set of garbage noise. Like heavily distorted morse code that carries no meaning whatsoever. It's overstimulating. It's frustrating. The walk to the gym feels like an hour, even if, in actuality, it's a minute or two of walking.

Before she knows it, and at the same time, after an eternity, she arrives at the gym. In fact, she's actually one of the very last to arrive. Which is weird, considering she walked past several people. Maybe she has stopped along the way. Maybe she just walked extremely slow. Maybe she somehow got lost. She could not care less.

Someone stands on the podium. Of course, it's that guy. The headmaster. His look is distressingly solemn. Several other teachers stand on the podium as well.

"Everyone, please be quiet," the headmaster begins. He clears his throat. "This is an announcement concerning the passing of Satsuki Nagasaki."

...And it's exactly what she was afraid of. Satsuki is dead. A few gasps can be heard among the crowd.

The headmaster reads further, "Satsuki was found dead in her bedroom. She was strangled to death. A fellow student, Hana Yamazaki,"

She tries her best to contain a scream.

"...is suspected of being the culprit. That will be why you will not see her on campus."

Of course. It's fucking Hana again. Beating someone senseless wasn't enough, now she MURDERED someone?

"Hope's Peak Academy is an academy focused on cultivating talent. On building up those who will be the pillars that support our world in the future. As such, we have a big reputation to uphold. It is therefore imperative that you do not mention any of this to anyone. Not to your family, not to your friends. If you're found to do any of these things, you will be faced with expulsion."

...And so on, and so forth. There's a bunch more after this about Satsuki. She can't find herself to listen to anything the headmaster is saying. It's meaningless to her. She barely knows Satsuki, but a member of her club is like family to her. She just wishes they could reciprocate that love.

And so, she's back in her room. Curled up into a ball, letting the silence envelop her, as if it's an uncomfortably cold blanket. Any appetite she may have is gone. Knowing Hana, the scene itself must have been gruesome. She can almost imagine herself stumbling upon her body. She's happy she didn't have to see it, but at the same time, she somehow feels like she's doing her a disservice.

...She doesn't know what to think, exactly.

Chapter Text

He's doing this. He's really, really doing this.

He's actually... ACTUALLY doing this. He's going to put their relationship to an end.

The entrance is dimly lit by the light from the living room, making the grey walls appear yellow in colour. As is customary, he takes off his shoes, and Kyoko, despite her apparent fury, thankfully lets him do it uninterrupted. Without a single word, she turns away from him, and walks into the living room. Even if for a moment, he's saved from her deadly glare. A glare so life-sapping, even Death itself would shiver.

Careful step by careful step, he follows Kyoko into the living room. She stands by the dark-grey couch. The moment she sees him, he points to its corner, silently telling him to sit. Despite the absolute mess of emotions stirring up within him, he feels a strange, almost comforting sense of confidence.

He hates this. He hates this so, so much. After all, he IS about to put an end to something great. Something that has cultivated for ten years. Yet, he wants to go through with it. He wants to get away from her. He wants to do it for his own sake. That's perhaps the worst part. He just has to be selfish about this.

"Makoto," Kyoko says, her coldness failing to cease, "I'm only going to ask you once."

Makoto takes a moment to compose himself.

"What. Was that all ab-"

"You know what, Kyoko?" Makoto asks, his voice fierce and determined. He looks directly at her. Her gaze momentarily falters.

"Don't interrup-"

"We're done."

There. He said it. There's no going back after this. This relationship is over.

"What do you mean by that?" Kyoko asks, unfazed. His own confidence wavers a little, but he holds out for his sake.

"Our relationship," he says, "We're done. We're breaking up."

For a moment, she remains the same, cliff-faced Kyoko, as if the statement bounced right off of her.

And then, her eyes widen.

And then, her pupils dilate.

And then, she somehow grows paler.

And his lost confidence resurfaces once more. Looks like he can do this after all... for better or worse.

"Wha... What are you...?" She mutters, genuinely taken completely off her guard.

"I don't hate you, Kyoko. I don't think I ever will. But... I mean," he pauses, taking a deep breath, "I've had enough. I have seriously, had enough. Of... Of you."

"M-Makoto? What do you... mean?" she asks, her voice uncharacteristically emotional.

"Look, I've had some time to think about this when I was away - and I'm sorry for that - and, this just... just CAN'T continue anymore, you know? I mean, it always feels like I have to watch my step around you, or else you'll get mad at me. I don't constantly wanna have to get ready for your, y, your hundredth... trust speech. You know? It's suffocating."

It's faint. So faint that very few people would ever be able to notice, but he can see it. Kyoko's arms. They're shaking. Very lightly.

"So, uh, well, I'm," he hesitates. She is clearly not happy about this. Even now, it hurts to see her like this. But he has to persevere. "I'm going to pack my stuff in the coming few days, and... Well, I'll see what'll happen-"

"Please don't do this, Makoto," she says, any trace of eerie coldness has vanished by this point. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"If you can let me speak," he says, raising his voice, "There's also what happened yesterday. Yeah, I still haven't forgiven you for that."

"I didn't mean to!" she says.

"I don't care. You have betrayed me that day, Kyoko. An apology can't-"

"Please, Makoto. I..." she takes a deep breath, "Y-You know how much you mean to me, right?"

"I, I..." he takes a second to come up with an answer, "Not a lot, I think," he says. It's more than just a cheap jab made for selfish reasons. It's kind of how he feels himself. He's about to continue making his point on what she did yesterday, but Kyoko interrupts her,

"But... I love you, Makoto! More than any, blue-haired singer, or brown-haired swimmer, or, black-haired war criminal ever would!" she declares. Makoto tries not to react to the last example, "You mean so much to me, and I... I'd hate to see it go!" she says. Her mask is completely cracked open at this point. "I'd... really hate to see you go."

"Me too," he says, "I'll miss you. But-" he attempts to get up, but Kyoko puts a firm. gloved hand on his shoulder, and pushes him down.

"Makoto. Please. I... You're an integral part of my life, even if I don't show it much. If... i-If you leave me, I think..."

...She thinks what? What could she possibly be saying-

"...I-I think I would commit suicide."

Oh.

"R-Really?" he asks, caught off-guard by her declaration.

"Y-Yes. I'll kill myself if you leave." she says, on the verge of tears. Her voice is teetering on the edge of coherence.

A very significant part of him feels like she's lying through her teeth. Those tears she's on the verge of are clearly crocodile ones. She doesn't actually want to kill herself, she just wants to keep him here. It's the most blatantly obvious trick she could possibly pull. And, dare he say it, one of the scummier ones out there.

Yet, he can't exactly deny the possibility. Kyoko always has been surprisingly emotional. Enough to slap him for looking at another girl the wrong way. Who knows what him leaving her altogether would do to her. Somehow, he imagines this to be a legitimate possibility. So...

"I..." he chooses his words carefully, "I'm sorry. I, uhh..." he looks away, "I overreacted."

Sorry, Mukuro.

"R-Really?"

"I... I'll stay with you if that's what you want," he forces himself to say. His head starts hurting.

"...That's... I'm happy you made the right choice," she says, audibly pepping up. He doesn't know if he should be happy.

...

"Let's have this argument at a later date," she says. She gets off the couch, walking to the hallway. She turns to him, "Come with me. I'm cuddle-starved. And you're just what I need to sate my hunger."

And thus, she walks upstairs. Makoto is sat on the couch by his lonesome. If he looks on the bright side of all this, at least he managed to avoid a particularly nasty argument... for the time being, that is. Now, how could he possibly tell Mukuro about this? Better yet...

What in the world was he ON? That was probably the oldest trick in the book. He actively knew about it, and yet he fell for it hook, line, and sinker. He actually saw the sinker bob up and down, and a bit of hook protruding from the bait, and yet he decided to take it anyway. That was unbelievably stupid. And, and how is he gonna go about it NOW? He could definitely just ignore the blatant suicide threat, pack his stuff, and leave Kyoko behind, and she'd be powerless to stop him. He could do it right NOW, even. He could just run into Mukuro's wide, comforting arms at any moment.

But the threat, obviously fake as it is, still has the slightest possibility of it actually being real. Suicide is... It's not something he'd wish on even his worst enemy. And considering that Kyoko, by virtue of being the only person in his life that could in any way be classified as an enemy, is now his worst enemy, that statement holds especially true. He hates himself for giving it even the slightest benefit of the doubt, but he's simply not going to take the risk.

Well, looks like Kyoko found an easy weakness to exploit. Hooray. Looks like the whole break-up thing was a complete and utter bust. Now he's going to have to actively cheat on Kyoko. He resists the powerful urge to scream at whichever god cursed him. Now he can only get with the one he really loves with a horrendous helping of intense guilt.

He wishes he could turn off his selflessness sometimes.

---

Well, that's that, he guesses. One well-needed shower and dressing for bed later, he is very decidedly not in Kyoko's loving arms, much to her clear chagrin. Because, just... No. Especially not after yesterday. Not happening. He still feels a little uneasy NOW. This is the same woman who attempted to force herself into him a single night ago. Despite this, he feels bad for her. Should he let her have this, just this once...?

"...Fine, Kyoko. Come here," he says, deciding to throw her a bone while letting his annoyance be clear. Her arms wrap around him from behind, immediately putting him wildly on edge. He immediately regrets letting her do this, but doesn't think it'd be a good idea to make her let go.

He thinks about the encounter as he's trapped with her. And he realises. He got insanely lucky. He managed to mitigate a potential beating. From Kyoko. Who can be utterly merciless. For a moment, it felt like she was vulnerable. Though, of course, she completely neutralised her one vulnerability immediately. But hey, it's at least better than suffering the potential full extent of her wrath. That really was a considerable feat of luck.

He supposes he should be happy about it. However, now he has another problem:

He is practically trapped now. The potential of Kyoko killing herself is enough for him to not want to leave. It's something she can just lord over him now. It makes actually leaving virtually impossible, unless he can somehow get her to seek help or something.

He won't risk that, though. There's no guarantee he could save her from suicide in the event she actually goes through with it. It's frustrating; even the knowledge that this is a trick can't help him.

His head throbs thinking about it. Well, thinking about ANYTHING. He doesn't want to think anymore. He just wants to go to sleep. No matter how hard he tries, though, it never comes to him. Perhaps the uneasy feeling he gets from her cuddling him is contributing to his lack of sleep.

...'Perhaps'? More like 'definitely'. If there was some way to get out of her grasp without making her mad.

The worst part is that despite everything, he still loves her. He wants to get away from her, but his feelings don't wane easily. It only makes it all sting more. It makes it all the more complicated to think about. And really, thinking is the last thing he should be doing at a time like this.

He tries just settling into her embrace, which he'd begrudgingly consider comforting. However, no matter how much time passes, and passes... and passes... He is constantly on edge.

Eventually, what feels like hours pass by. In reality, it's only about fifteen minutes. Kyoko is sleeping like a baby by then. Maybe this is his chance.

Kyoko has an iron grip around him, like she tends to do. Removing her arms is a little challenging, to say the least. But, after enough struggling, he manages to pry her right arm off of him. Her left arm, the one going underneath, is removed with a considerably less amount of force. Now he can lift himself off at will. And he does. Now he's standing on the ground with no arms wrapping around him. He looks at her. It's faint, but she looks at peace. It makes him happy. He puts on his clothes; grey jogging pants and a dark green T-shirt.

He takes his phone with him downstairs, making sure to make little sound. Looks like the couch's his sleeping place... again. After last night.

He unceremoniously plops onto the couch, trying to make sure to not pay ANY attention to the TV's ominous red light. He checks his phone. It's 01:06. He should have been asleep by then. Ahh, well, now that Kyoko is not behind him anymore, this should be way easier. So, he tries to settle into a comfortable position. However, there's an issue: it's cold. Not freezing cold, but enough to make sleeping a challenge. He takes the many cushions on the couch, and lays them on him to form a makeshift sheet. It's... marginally better, he guesses. This is somewhat more comfortable. He's getting sore, though, so he turns around, preparing in advance for the extremely ominous red light...

...only to have about half his cushions fall off his body, onto the floor. He groans. Closing his eyes to prevent looking at the TV, he attempts to swipe at the floor to pick up all of the cushions. He ends up constantly swiping at nothing, which ends up frustrating him a little.

He decides to bite the dust and just open his eyes. He realises he could also use his phone to illuminate the floor. It helps; with some time, all the cushions are off the floor and on his body. Great, this is comfortable. He can finally sleep now... as long as he keeps his eyes shut. He has this strange urge to open his eyes and look at the scary red light. He tries to fight it, but the urge remains.

Carefully this time, he turns around again, preserving all the cushions. Now he won't have to look at it anymore.

...Sleep never comes. Sleeping here just reminds him of yesterday. It almost makes him feel like crying. It reminds him of why he wants to get out of here, and of the fact that Kyoko trapped him with a suicide threat. Ten years with her, just for this to happen.

He looks at his phone, to check the time. It's, to his surprise, only 01:17. Only about ten minutes passed, even though it has felt at least ten times as long since then. Screw this, he thinks. He can't sleep. So, he'll cease this fruitless endeavour. He's hungry, so he'll just make something to eat.

...Well, after texting Mukuro about it all. He has to let her know, at least.

Chapter Text

She did it! Finally, after ten fucking years, she did it! Makoto is hers now! An extremely intense wave of euphoria washes over the girl. She'll need to prepare for his arrival, but that can wait for now! Because she confessed her feelings to Makoto, and he said yes! And she convinced him to exit an abusive relationship!

Seriously, she has the urge to do several backflips in a row. She can't do that otherwise she'll just break everything, so she just lies on her bed, clad in only panties and sports bra, and violently kicks her legs and screams into her pillow. Without that pillow, she would've probably caused herself to go deaf. She could win the fucking lottery right now and it wouldn't match half the joy she's feeling. She lets herself go for a while, the hamsters in her brain at full force to craft imagery of Makoto and Mukuro.

Makoto and Mukuro smiling together. Makoto and Mukuro going on dates with each other. Makoto and Mukuro making love. Sweet, sweet love. Ahh... getting violently dicked down by him while he shoves his fingers up her mouth... The thought of what that might feel like makes her shudder. Or maybe he could have her violently fuck him while he shoves his fingers up her mouth... that would be good too. Or, some sweet, gentle sex where they take it slow, that would be awesome too. She's drowning in possibilities, and she needs release. So, she slips her hand below her panties, and...

...making a long story quite short indeed, brings herself to a very satisfactory orgasm. It is one that falls in that weird middle ground where it's not awful, nor particularly mind-blowing. It's best described as pleasant. That feeling is dampened slightly by the realisation that she now needs to change her panties. Good thing she had the foresight to masturbate on a towel this time. She wipes herself off with said towel, using the parts that havan't been stained with her juices.

She then brings the towel to the bathroom, turning on the light. It's a white light, giving it a sterile feeling. There's a shower in the far left corner of the room, though she wishes to invest in a bathtub someday. In the far right are a washing machine and a dryer, both standing next to one another. A washbowl on the right wall of the room, with cupboards situated above and below it Inside are tide pots and laundry detergent. Next to it is a basket to throw dirty laundry in. In the nearby left corner of the room is another cupboard with a bunch of towels inside of it. The floor tiles are a greyish blue, and the wall tiles are white.

...She should also seek to put a toilet here. Japanese bathrooms generally don't have toilets, and it can be kind of a hassle to have to go all the way downstairs just to go do her business. But that's a problem for future Mukuro to handle. For now, she just throws her dirty towel in the basket, and washes her hands. She returns to her bedroom, looking through her closet for a new set of panties. She finds one with ease, and puts it on. And then, she jumps on her bed.

At this point, the excitement has mostly subsided, though she's still really happy about today. It has probably made her entire week. She's looking forward to the coming years with Makoto.

...Well, she hopes. Because there's still a chance that Makoto gets over the excitement too. And once he does, she suspects he'd call her and tell her they're better off as friends. Because as nice as it sounds to be with Makoto, there's still the question of whether or not she truly deserves it.

After all, she's still a mass murderer responsible for one of the worst mass stabbings in history. She has killed countless people. Most of them had a bright future ahead of them, and she brutally denied them that opportunity. Confessing her sins to Makoto all that time ago already took an ungodly amount of courage, and he was definitely put off for at least a few minutes. She could tell. There were THINGS going on inside of him that day. It's a miracle he's still willing to be her friend despite all that. Maybe he simply forgot about what she did.

But even then, she's also happy he got abused. Simply because it means she could drive him and Kyoko apart without needing to feel bad about it. Sure, she briefly forgot about it when she heard the news, but... What would Makoto think of it? If she told him, would he be disgusted? This is more personal than her killing people, so it must affect him more... right? Even Makoto has his limits, right?

She can't seem to come to an answer. Perhaps Makoto is, in fact, this forgiving. It must take a lot for him to hate someone, to the point where she's not even sure that's possible. But on the other hand, he can be a little hotheaded when you push him just enough. He's had some grumpier days at Hope's Peak. It can be done. Perhaps his reaction to her thoughts about his abuse could drive him to be like that?

She lets out a long, low groan. The pleasant feeling from before has certainly evaporated by now.

Mid-groan, a notification plays from her phone. She stops groaning, and scrambles for it. It's a notification from Makoto. She doesn't feel good looking at it, knowing what she's thinking.

'Hi, Mukuro.'

...is what his message reads. A brief pang of joy flashes within her. Surely this is confirmation that he's talked it over with her...?

'hi wassup'

'whats the verdict?'

'What do you mean?'

'if u did it with kyoko'

'the breakup thing'

With bated breath, she waits for his response. Somehow, she feels like she shouldn't celebrate too early...

'I didn't.'

'I'm sorry. I tried.'

...and her suspicions get proven right. God dammit. God... FUCKING dammit.

'why'

'what happened?'

No, seriously? How? Did Kyoko perhaps use her emotionless detective-y charms on him or something? Did he change his mind after all?

Nothing could have prepared her for the real reason.

'She said she'd commit suicide if I left.'

'I'm sorry. I really did try.'

...

...

'WHAT THE FUCK'

Honestly, even that fails to describe the sheer shock of that message. Any hopes of a pleasant night are certainly dashed to pieces now. Everything around her is starting to look a lot more fragile now. Like she could punch through everything as if it's butter. She violently types in her next few messages,

'im so sorry makoto'

'thats horrible'

Even if this is another reason to break them apart, she can't even be remotely happy about this. Makoto's unflinching trust in others is one of her favourite things about him. He loves the people around him. He helps people for nothing in return, and he loves doing it. And Kyoko has the fucking audacity to...

...to exploit those traits of his? Is she SERIOUSLY sinking this low?

Mukuro sends some more messages,

'shes probablty lying'

'no shes definitely lying''

'I know. I'm just not risking it.'

'She can get surprisingly emotional.'

'are we still a thing'

'Yes.'

...At least that's good. A brief respite in the surge of negative emotions assaulting her.

'i rly hope things get better for u'

'im seriously so sorry this is happening'

'Thanks.'

'I appreciate it.'

Mukuro sits upright on her bed. She looks at the wall behind her pillow. Her hands are curled up into fists, clenching so hard they start to hurt. They're shaking, the intensity increasing the longer she looks at the wall. Her breaths are long and deep. Ever-accelerating.

And then, she can't contain it anymore.

She violently punches the wall with all of her might. It creates an almost ear-splitting sound. Her fist is burrowed a centimetre deep into the wall. Cracks have formed around the point of impact. The plaster is peeling off, and falling onto her bed. Her teeth are clenching intensely. Her breathing is ragged. Her hand burns in agony.

She punches the wall again. Another crater is created. More plaster falls onto her bed. She punches the wall twice more.

She then proceeds to just sit there. She's sat on her legs long enough for them to get sore. Her right hand burns in pain, but she leaves it be.

"I'm getting him out of there," she proclaims to herself in a low, whispery voice. It really is the least she can do for him. It might not make up for what she did in the past, but it's something at least.

She gets off of her bed, looking at the sheets. They're covered in plaster, now. She has slept in worse conditions in the past, but she'd rather sleep somewhere cleaner now. So, she goes downstairs, and sleeps on the couch. She has taken her phone with her, though, so she could send Makoto a few parting messages.

'i'll do whatever i can'

'i'll get u outta there'

'i love u'

'so so somuch'

'gn'

Mukuro proceeds to have a sleepless night.

---

-MONOKUMA THEATRE-

Curtains rising. Audience cheating. Monukuma Theatre, commencing-

"Hey hey hey hey HEY!!!" Monokuma roars, "What kinda performance was that?"

...What? I don't...

"You sound about as enthusiastic as a wet paper towel. And believe me, I've known my share of wet paper towels..."

Well, but if I look at the script you gave me, it's never stated how, uhh...

"Read between the lines, silly! Come on, in what world do you NOT shout out the beginning of a show? Do you ever watch a TV show only for the announcer to whisper the name to you? Of course not!"

Well, then... should I...?

"No, NO!" Monokuma yells, before sulking, "I've forgotten what I wanted to say anyway. Now it's all ruined... Oh, I miss my other narrator. Why'd I have to fire them? What despair..."

Wait, does that mean that... I'm...?

"Outta here? Well, yes you are! You're out! I'm getting my other narrator back!"

And, how...

Monokuma snaps his finger.

-at do you mean you'll be expecting an answer by the end of next week- wait, what? Where... am...

"Oh, hi! I missed ya!" Monokuma says.

Wait, what about me-

"Yeah, you're still out! Go away!"

Okay... geez...

"Now, I believe you were searching for a job? How's that going?"

Badly.

"Oh, of course, of course. Now, I wouldn't want my precious narrator to just die on the streets, right? You're in again! Hired! And I won't hire any more stupid people this time!"

...Okay, that's good. Thanks.

"Ahh, don't mention it. I'm glad to have my precious little wage slave back... It drives me to tears, tears, tears!!!"

Chapter Text

Makoto stands in front of the refrigerator. He opens it, the light violently hitting his eyes. He instinctively closes his eyes. He looks away from the light, before slowly trying to adjust himself to it. Soon enough, he can look inside of the refrigerator with little effort. And, inside lies something he's been looking for: Leftovers. Specifically from yesterday. He'd rather not think about that day.

He takes the sealed bowl of curry out of the fridge. He then closes the fridge. He puts the bowl on the kitchen counter. He then tears off the plastic foil separating the curry inside from the outside elements. Of course, it's cold, and therefore not particularly delightful to eat. So, he puts the bowl in the microwave. Good thing they bought microwavable lacquerware.

Their microwave is a rather simple device. It's a white, rectangular box with a big door with a handle on its right side. On the right side of the microwave are two black dials arranged in a column. The upper dial controls the wattage, which they never really touch. It can go up to 800 watts. Makoto hears that American microwaves can go up to 1500 watts. He wonders if they're trying to melt steel in those things. The lower dial acts as a timer. You turn it clockwise, then it automatically turns anticlockwise until it hits its starting point. At that point, it rings, and the microwave stops microwaving the food. You can also forcibly dial it anticlockwise yourself.

Makoto simply puts the bowl on the rotating glass plate inside, and closes it. He turns the lower dial clockwise to about 2 minutes. That should be enough. He hopes the bottom of the bowl will actually heat up.

And now, he has to actually spend those two minutes. Should be easy enough. After all, it's just two minutes. Two minutes until he can eat. He goes back to the couch, somewhat afraid the microwave's humming will wake Kyoko up... despite their bedroom being a whole floor above him.

Sadly, two minutes prove to be a rather long time, actually. Usually, they go by with no problem, but for some reason, when waiting for food to microwave, it's easier to feel every single second individually. You can really get a feel for how long one minute actually is. And to then think you'd have to wait that amount of time once more...

He just goes and beats off. He takes off his shorts and tries to get his dick to harden. He plays with it. With enough patience, it hardens. It's actually rather sift still, and not as big as it usually is (and should be for a more comfortable experience), but it'll do for now.

For some reason, he can't get horny thoughts into his head whatsoever. This isn't uncommon. Sometimes, the brain just refuses to cooperate. Any erotic picture he tries to imagine morphs into something more mundane, or, more commonly, something so abstract he doesn't have a name for it. But this time, more distressing memories come to mind. Memories of yesterday. And he starts berating himself. Did he SERIOUSLY give someone who tried to do THAT to him the benefit of the doubt? Is he actually that stupid?

But then again, he always reminds himself that Kyoko can actually be pretty emotional. She COULD actually go through with it. But she's also definitely lying. But-

Oh hey it's done. The microwave just ringed, signaling its completion. At least he can end his sad attempt at jerking off now.

He washes his hands first, of course. He then takes the bowl out of the microwave. He feels the bottom of the bowl, and he sighs to himself. It's cold. Of COURSE.

Well, he'll just have to mix everything together and hope that it'll help. He takes the bowl to the table behind the couch, and sits at it. Specifically in the direction where the red light WON'T state him down. He mixes everything up. He then eats it.

It's alright. Must have been better when it was fresh and hot. But it's not terrible. He supposes he'll have to give Kyoko that. She's a mean cook. Mukuro, on the other hand, seems to rely mostly on store-bought food. Maybe he could teach her to make something good. He isn't bad at it either, after all.

He then washes the bowl and the utensils he used to eat the curry. He never liked having to wash the dishes while Komaru goofed off not having to do anything. Yet now, it's relaxing.

...He misses Komaru. He hopes she's doing alright. Maybe her love life isn't as messy as his... not that that's a particularly high bar to clear or anything. Maybe she has a boyfriend that treats her well... or girlfriend. He had to learn she swings both ways the hard way. He walked in on her by accident. Twice. One time, she was masturbating to a physical manga he managed to catch the title of. When he looked up the title out of morbid curiosity, it turned out to be a yaoi doujin.

Another time, he made the exact mistake. This time, she had a laptop and an animated film of a small, blonde-haired girl and a bigger, black-haired girl being very intimate with one another. And she was masturbating just as well to that one. That time, she caught him.

Needless to say, some very awkward conversations ensued. She explained that she was, in fact, bisexual. While he learned of gay people before, this was the first time the concept of bisexuality was introduced to him.

...What an introduction that was.

He really, really wants her to be happy.

He returns to the couch, ready to give it another go down there. Perhaps this time, he'll find release?

Long story short, he doesn't. He falls asleep cold, unsatisfied and frustrated.