Did being a leader mean anything when large swathes of your citizens didn't even know you were in charge? That was one of the many questions that ran through Kirumi's mind late at night, when everything was quiet and there were no crises demanding her attention. Those under her command sometimes jokingly referred to her as the prime minister, but that's all it was. A joke. The government hardly existed anymore. Even the Future Foundation had mostly abandoned her little corner of the world. And so, it fell to Kirumi to protect her people. Who else would do it?
She stared down at the small, tattered scrapbook in her hands, tears threatening to escape her eyes. Angie had made one for each of them, filled with drawings and photos of the few happy months they'd had together. Kirumi's fingers traced over the faded lettering on the cover, 'Class 79,' and her breath caught in her throat. The tears didn't quite fall. She wondered, distantly, if she'd forgotten how to cry.
The door creaked on its hinges, and Kirumi had the scrapbook hidden in a drawer within seconds, buried under old school uniforms. The noise had been intentional, of course. Maki always entered rooms silently, unless she wanted to give someone a chance to prepare.
"It's done," Maki said flatly. Kirumi didn't turn around to face her, but she could hear the familiar sounds of weapons being cleaned and put away. Guns, knives, everything in its proper place. Kirumi would offer to do it, but there would be no point. Maki liked taking care of her weapons herself. "The Future Foundation had a couple of their people on the job, but they were useless."
"Naturally," Kirumi replied, only once she was sure her voice wouldn't shake. Maki hated shows of emotion, both from herself and others, but that was okay. Kirumi did too. "You had no trouble, then?"
"Of course not." Maki scoffed, and Kirumi turned her head just enough to see bloodstains marring her clothes and skin in the dim lamplight. "The Remnants are desperate, but most of them don't know how to fight against a professional. The ones that do aren't stupid enough to hang around here."
Here meaning Kirumi's territory, she knew. They'd started to gain a reputation among the locals, the prime minister and her hitman. She tried to claim it wasn't like that, sometimes. Maki was her classmate, her girlfriend. She wasn't some attack dog, and besides, she'd been a trained killer since long before the Tragedy. But Kirumi did still send her out to clean up the neighborhood, did take advantage of her talent, so what was the difference in the end?
"Good. Soon the Future Foundation will be out of excuses as to why they aren't doing their job."
Maki just hummed thoughtfully, walking over and leaning in to give her a kiss. Now that she was closer, Kirumi could almost smell the coppery tang of blood. It had been a messy job, then.
"I'm going to take a shower," she said as she pulled away, smoothing Kirumi's hair out of her face and offering a tight smile. Maki dropped a crumpled flyer on the bed and then headed for the bathroom without another word.
Kirumi picked up the flyer, smoothing it out on her lap. It was old, probably from around the time Hope's Peak closed, the ink smeared in places from the elements, but most of it was still readable. 'Whereabouts of Class 79 unknown, presumed dead.' Below that, the message was too ruined to make out, but it looked as though it might list a phone number to call with information. The writing wasn't the important part, though. There were pictures of their entire class, laid out in a neat four by four grid.
Kirumi took a long moment to just look, taking in the smudgy details of everyone's faces, looking so much younger, like ten years had passed instead of one. Contrary to popular opinion, Maki did have a sentimental side. She knew the importance of remembering. Without needing to be asked, Kirumi filed the page away safe and sound, making sure the area with Kaito's picture was as unwrinkled as possible.
Letting the sound of the shower running drown out her troublesome thoughts, Kirumi gathered up clean pajamas for Maki, stepping into the bathroom just long enough to lay them out and pick up the bloodstained clothes from the floor. She shoved them into their too-full laundry bag, wondering when she'd become the kind of person to let basic chores get away from her like this. Once upon a time, she'd felt like she could do anything.
Kirumi sighed. No use thinking about it now. She slipped into bed, turning on the TV. There was only one show on these days, and it was quiet at the moment. Good. She watched Naegi toss and turn, Kirigiri pace back and forth across her room, Togami flip through the pages of his latest book. Mercifully, the shower turned off. She didn't like watching television alone.
Maki soon emerged from the bathroom, running her fingers through her still-damp hair.
"Nothing new, huh?" she asked, frowning at the TV and turning off the light on her way to bed.
"No, nothing tonight," Kirumi confirmed, letting herself inch closer to Maki under the covers. It took a moment, but Maki melted into her touch, curling close and letting Kirumi settle an arm around her waist. "...Do you ever think about what would have happened if the headmaster let us stay too?"
"No," Maki said, in the slightly too stiff tone that meant she was lying.
"Me neither," she mumbled, holding her girlfriend a bit tighter. Ironic, how their class wasn't allowed to shelter in the old school building like the 78th, because the headmaster couldn't be sure they weren't SHSL Despair. The real despair had been right under his nose.
For a long while, they were silent, watching together. Kirumi's fingers stroked through Maki's hair and along her spine, and she focused on the sound of her breathing. In, out, in, out. Safe. Alive.
"We could try to leave the country," Kirumi said eventually, voice thick with exhaustion. "It's not supposed to be as bad elsewhere."
"You'd never give up like that," Maki said, breath warm against Kirumi's neck.
"Neither would you."
"We could move to the middle of nowhere, become farmers or something." Maki chuckled, too rare of a sound, and someone whimpered on TV.
"I didn't think you liked that sort of thing. Livestock, and...other stuff." With Maki, Kirumi could afford to be less eloquent sometimes.
"I don't, but I'm sure I'd manage. I could learn to, for you."
Kirumi smiled, and Maki's lips pressed soft to her throat, just for a moment.
"I love you," she whispered, not fully relaxing until Maki replied in kind. Kirumi's eyes drifted shut. A few moments later, she felt Maki reach over for something, and the intermittent sounds from the killing game live feed stopped. The click of the remote being set back down, the pop of gunfire a long ways away. Normal nighttime sounds.
"We really should leave," Maki said.
"Yeah. We should."
"Just get some sleep for now, Kirumi. You're exhausted." Maki sounded exhausted too, but she knew better than to say so.
"We'll talk about it tomorrow. Start making plans." It wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation, but as she dozed off, Kirumi let herself believe it.