You wouldn't be surprised if Kirigiri was kidnapping you. In all honesty, you'd probably go right along with it, so she couldn't kidnap you properly if she tried. She must know this, she leads you around like cattle when it comes down to it. It's before dawn, follow me at once, let's inspect this secret room, the investigation begins here, from the old dorms to the garden shed to the Italian catacombs—to the ends of the earth, you'd go with questions sealed up in your mouth to stick by her side. Naegi-kun, my grandfather wants to meet you.
Suddenly you are not quite sure about that.
But you're quite comfortable in the airline's first class, and conversations are coming easy—it begins to feel more like a summer vacation than a death sentence. Except that it is leagues away from any summer vacation you've experienced before in that: A, you are going abroad for the first time, and B, you are accompanied not by your convivial family but by a stoic girl genius who might be your first girlfriend, or something, maybe.
Regardless of questionable boyfriend status, you feel a bit iffy about hitching an all-expense paid trip to England, but after the first "I could never" (a formality), you were suspiciously eager. It's peer pressure, you'd wager. At the incredible Hope's Peak Academy, all of the incredible students spend the next four weeks doing something incredible.
You thought you were resigned to playing video games and procrastinating for the duration of the holiday, and you were, until Kyouko sidled up next to you one morning—you never know where the hell she comes from—and proposed the trip. It was worded in such a way that made anything but "OK" a difficult response, and it wasn't like you could really say no to Kirigiri anyway. Your first protest is to being trouble for your hosts; your parents raised you to be considerate, and you do your best to be thoughtful for being a typical teenage boy. But when you think about it, nothing ever seems like too much trouble for Kirigiri. When she says she can book plane tickets, hussle you through an airport, and arrange for a guest room, you really have no choice but to believe her whole-heartedly. That's just how she is.
"Leon's going to America," you're saying, shifting in the window seat. "Isn't that amazing? He'll actually be playing with the big leagues."
"No," she says over the rim of her coffee cup. "He'll be hitchhiking down to Hollywood any chance he gets."
"Think he'll get a big break?"
"That is certainly wishful thinking, Naegi."
You laugh. "That is my best attribute."
She gives you a corner-quirked smile and a second-length fond look, and you are flummoxed again. You feel like a kid for it, but you're breaching ridiculous levels of excitement on the inside—you really do feel like luck has become a factor in your life since your admission to Hope's Peak, except that your luck generally comes in the form of your maladjusted classmates. Some days, you find it difficult to believe that you are all from the same species, or that your high school life and your junior high days even exist in the same universe.
The most salient shock would have to be Kirigiri. She swept you up in a different way from the rest of your new friends, she blew your mind with a kiss and a mystery. Those often came hand in hand, in fact. To this moment, you are pleasantly stumped by the fact that Kirigiri actually mentioned you to her much-revered grandfather, and further stumped by his expressed desire to meet you in the flesh. You might have helped out in some paltry class mysteries (and the one-that-cannot-be-mentioned. You hate to think about it.) but you have a feeling Kirigiri may have touted your capabilities a bit too much or something.
Which is a funny thought, because level-headed Kirigiri doesn't exaggerate, right?
Then again, here you thought she wouldn't whisk you away to her childhood home halfway around the globe, but she did. You sneak a glance at her: she's fixed on her coffee and her case files, now, and you'll ask what they are but some other time.
She's so solemn and so aloof and so constant, but she's still the most enigmatic thing to ever grace your dead-average life. In the same breath, you might say she's the best thing to ever happen to you, too—if you were a tad more given to romantic poetry, and if she hadn't put your existence in jeopardy in more than one instance. On that subject, mystery #3233 since admission to Hope's Peak: why are you so fulfilled hanging around people who pose threats of grievous injury to you? It's almost as if you're a masochist. You think of Touko Fukawa, shudder, and banish the thought in an instant.
You tilt your head 'til your head thunks against the plexiglass, but there's nothing to see but waves and sky. You're not quite sure what to expect out of England, but it definitely can't be that bad. Especially because you're starting to think you can learn more about Kirigiri and her childhood and what's important to her. It's a guilty thought, for the fantastical idiot in you values all her mystery, but your nebulous lack of knowledge about someone you really, really admire can get irritating, too. There's nothing you can learn about her that won't make you like her more, you're sure of that.
But maybe you are still a little antsy about the Kirigiri patriarch and how colossally you will fail to meet his expectations.
Clearing your throat, you tap her on the arm. She glances up.
"I might have asked before," you begin, casual-like, "but what kind of man is your grandfather, Kirigiri-san?"
"He's one of the greatest detectives in the world," she responds, immediate but thoughtful. "He's solved hundreds of cases previously thought unsolvable, and is employed by several world-renowned organizations, like the CIA or Scotland Yard." She side-eyes you for a moment, seeking a reaction. It must not be to her liking, because after a glimpse, she looks away again.
"You're wondering about him on a less professional level and a more personal one," she says, half a question prompt.
"Uh, yeah. I guess," you confirm, "That is what I meant."
"He taught me almost everything I know about deduction," she says carefully, a lot more slow to the punch when it comes to these aspects. "He raised me. We're very close, so don't concern yourself."
"Okay, no problem," you rush to say, uneasy at the implication there. Sometimes you think it's almost as if she knows all about your 'concerning yourself' in her family matters. You can't possibly take all the blame for that though.
It's not your fault that you can't say no to the girl in front of you or her estranged and detested father. Headmaster Kirigiri is a nice guy by your estimation, and you would know because he knows you by name despite your trivial talent and he actually approaches you on occasion. You can see that he cares very much about his students. And by the way he grills you on information about her, you can see that he cares very much about his daughter, too. It is the one thing she is blind to.
Maybe it's because you're privy to that drama that Kirigiri felt it was alright to string you along to England? You are still puzzling it out, but trying to enjoy yourself at the same time. It feels brilliant and strange, to get to travel with someone so unworldly, so rigidly focused on something so grand. She holds you at arm's length, but there's something indistinct between you that sets you close to her. She's solitary, she works alone. But even her own father seems to see you as someone close enough to see Kyouko Kirigiri's hidden thoughts and secret feelings.
He's got that wrong, though. Most days, you look at this gorgeous genius girl and you don't got a clue.