...As with 'Everything Beautiful In This World', I'll write an author's note with the link I share on Tumblr, when I am able to do that. There's a lot I want to explain about this fic, so I recommend looking out for that. But anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and please leave feedback ^^
Ruruka didn't expect to wake up again, but she did.
"I…I'm alive. I am alive." She said to herself, carefully, trying to feel if her voice sounded like her own. I'm…alive? Looking down at herself, she hesitantly move her legs before pinching her arm and yelping.
"See? I'm fine. I'm fine…." Slowly, still disoriented from the drug wearing off, Ruruka stood up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, though that did nothing for the tears that had dried around them. Her shoulders hurt from having fallen asleep awkwardly, her chest hurt from crying, and even now, she could see the dried blood and scrapes on her hand. But she was fine. She was fine, she could survive alone, she wasn't like that idio-
But what do I do now?
The thought shuddered through her, bringing her silent justifications to a halt. What could she do now? She wasn't really sure where she was. If it was even safe to go and find the others. No doubt, Kirigiri would have found the others, told them about the entrance, what had happened with Yoi, even with Kizakura. And from that, wouldn't they think her dangerous, a traitor? They might even assume she was the attacker. And with no Yoi, she couldn't stop them from deciding to kill her, just to be sure.
What do I do now? Why did I…? A sob bubbled up in Ruruka's throat, and she clamped her hands over her mouth. She hadn't completely lied, to Kirigiri and Kizakura and Mitarai. She didn't know what to do by herself, she'd never needed to. And seeing Yoi's face, his forever forgiving face in his final moments, seeing it flash up over and over again in her mind was bad enough, she didn't want to see his body again. Didn't want to remember the desperate lengths she'd gone to, to try and absolve herself-fat use that had been. You should have known that it'd be pointless! Her shoulders shook as she stood in the middle of the room, trying to hold back yet more tears. Then, the PA system blared, and she jumped in shock, almost stumbling. But what came next was more shocking.
"Makoto Naegi." Munakata's pompous voice blared. "Have you learnt of Kyouko Kirigiri's Forbidden Action yet? Now do you know how useless your platitudes are?"
"Wha-"
Jolted out of her own misery for a moment, Ruruka gawped at the speaker in the room. Kirigiri's Forbidden Action? Had it been set off, had she died too? And why did Munakata sound as if he knew everyone's Forbidden Action now? Was he in on it too? Her head swirled, and then she realised something more chilling.
If he knew everyone's action, that included hers.
She lifted her hand up, and read what it said. Allowing another player to leave the playing field. At least the entrance Yoi had found had turned out to be a dead end-if only I had known that before-so they couldn't get out that way. But what if…..I need to stop them. But why should I trust them? They're not going to wait to escape, just for me. Her hands clenched into fists, momentarily angry at the forbidden action she'd been given. If it hadn't been for it being what it was, she wouldn't be at this point, she knew it. Yoi would still be alive, and even if Seiko had still ended up attacked, at least she would not have had to desecrate her body in order to try and save her own skin. But she was here, and utterly stuck.
"WHAT DO I DO?" Ruruka screamed up at the ceiling, the words echoing. "WHAT DO I DO?"
Of course, the ceiling had no answer, and so she just sunk back down to her knees. She looked down at her hands, and drew in a few shuddering breaths, and thought. It seemed like Munakata knew the forbidden actions, which probably suggested that he knew something about the game, that in some way he had responsibility for it, which meant that he was probably more dangerous than the rest of them would be for her. That, and if Kirigiri really was dead, that would probably be enough to provoke Naegi to fight. And perhaps his SHSL Luck and his SHSL Hope would be enough to let him win. And then, the game would end, and it would be safe for her to leave.
So….I'll wait? Yeah, I'll wait. Ruruka nodded, as if trying to reassure herself. Yes, she would just sit and wait it out. What she'd do after that, she had no idea. But she'd sit here, and wait, and hopefully something would happen.
Deciding on that plan of action gave her some sense of relief, but that was short-lived, as she felt her aches and pains and regrets again, and shivered. Curling up on the ground, she pulled her limbs together as much as possible to keep warm while trying to ignoring the pains all over her body. A wave of exhaustion-nothing to do with the poison- swept over, and she gave into it.
…
Though Ruruka drifted in and out of consciousness, assaulted by memories ranging back from when she was little all the way to seeing how Munakata had mercilessly stabbed and abandoned Sakakura, she remained asleep for a long stretch of time. But though she slept, it could not be said she rested. She cried, tossed and turned, crammed her fist in her mouth, shivered. And everything hurt, all over. She could feel it. The only time she didn't was when the bracelet did its work again for the fifth time.
She was only properly woken up by the sounds of gunfire outside the door.
Wait, wait, wait. What's happening? Sitting up rapidly, half-ignoring the clatter of plastic she made, she listened to the gunshots helplessly. She wondered if this was to do with the game, or something unrelated. Perhaps the other members of the Future Foundation had sent help, once they'd seen the broadcast. Still, I can't go out there! I don't want to get shot! Bullets probably wouldn't get through to her, not with all she'd piled in front of the door, but still…..as her mind scrambled for a way to deal with this unexpected turn, she realised that it was so much darker in the room. And that she couldn't feel the bracelet on her wrist.
With some disbelief, she looked down, and sure enough, the two halves had separated, lying on the ground. Then she remembered the clatter of plastic from a moment ago. The…game ended? How? She held up the two halves, and stared at them, before a sudden rage had her fling them at the wall opposite her. The plastic hit it, and fell to the ground, feeble and useless. She regarded them flatly, before switching her attention back to the outside. She could hear the guns, and the footfalls of the people who were carrying them, but there didn't seem to be any indicator of who was being chased. No way to know if these were rescuers, or a new problem.
"Please don't come in here, please don't notice that this room is here. Please…." She murmured under her breath, praying. Even with the barricade, if they noticed, it would all be meaningless. So she stood there, eyeing the door warily, praying. She felt useless, but she didn't know what else to do if she didn't want to die. So she waited, and eventually, something happened. She could not quite discern what it was, exactly, but something seemed to cut through the chaos, knocking all the gunmen out gradually. Weapons clattered as their owners seemed to thud to the ground nearby. And whoever was responsible just kept walking, their own footsteps calm and eventually fading away, until there was silence once again.
Ruruka held her breath in this silence, trying to ignore how it pressed in at her, waiting to see if there was any sign of anyone else on the way, to see if anything else would happen. There did not seem to be. So it's safe now? It has to be. She could not wait forever, so before she could have any more doubts, she set about pulling apart her barricade, piece by piece, clearing her way to the door. The cuts on her hands reopened, and left small smudges of blood on some of the rocks and rubble. At one point, she almost dropped a half piece of brick on her foot, but caught it just on time and set it down, before simply wiping her hands on her shorts and carrying on. For some reason, undoing what she had did was more tiring than the doing of it, and many times she had to stop, catch her breath, wipe sweat away from her forehead and wait a few moments before carrying on. But somehow, she managed it, and when the door was clear, she pulled it open and stepped back out into the corridor, breathing heavily.
The first thing she stepped on was a bullet, and sure enough, the ground was littered with them. And weapons, and the bodies of soldiers. There was no sign of whoever had made them that way. From the looks of them, they worked for the Future Foundation, and she noted how very discarded they looked in their deaths-They are dead, aren't they?It was horrible, how they were, but she didn't care nearly enough to try and check. She couldn't. So she turned her face away from them, kicked away bullets as she walked a little further, and then, as soon as it was clear, she ran.
…
When she came out, she was almost blinded. It took her a moment to realise that it was just the sun. When was the last time it was sunny? Stupid as it was, she'd thought that the sun had disappeared along with everything else normal when the Tragedy had hit, but apparently not. But how long was I down there for? Somewhere, she knew it could not have been more than a day, but her head was foggy and her body ached all over and now the sun had further thrown her off, so she had no idea. Putting a hand out against the wall, she steadied herself, and waited for her vision to clear a bit, then looked all around her.
Spotting some tents set up, she decided to head there, fighting against each new twinge of pain as she did so. Halfway there, someone walked past her in the opposite direction, a tall someone, wearing a long white coat. Her shoulder brushed against the side of the coat momentarily, and she let out a startled squeak, stumbling a little to the side. The person stopped and turned, and she realised with some shock that it was Munakata.
There was a horrible, stretching moment, when neither of them said anything, and just stared at each other, gazes locked onto each other. She didn't know how she hadn't noticed it before, but somehow Munakata had lost his right eye. And he looked as ragged as she felt. No longer did he look so prim and proper and know-it-all. And so it should be. He killed that idiot, that idiot who was so insistently loyal to him, and just walked away without even giving him a chance to speak. When she had witnessed that, he'd just stalked off like it did not matter to him, but now…now it looked like it had haunted and devastated him, just like he deserved.
Don't you deserve that too? You're the same sort of monster. The unwelcome thought blipped into her head, and she thought she could see herself in Munakata's weariness. But she did not want to. No. No.
"Tch." Trying not to wince from the effort, she tore her gaze from him, rapidly turned on her heel and continued to walk towards the tents. We are the same sort of monster.
"Asahina-san! Togami-kun! Hagakure-kun! Kirigiri-san is alive! She's alive!"
All of a sudden, Naegi appeared and headed towards the nearest tent, leading Kirigiri by the hand. He was bright and ecstatic, while Kirigiri was of course stoic and composed, but there was something odd about it, as if she was making an extra special effort to move the way she normally did anyway. I don't understand. Curious, Ruruka took a few more steps forward, and peered around the corner of the tent, to see Naegi and Kirigiri go over to Asahina, who was sitting on a chair with a bandaged foot, next to Togami and Hagakure.
"Huh? What are you-Kyouko-Chan! Y-you didn't die? But…I don't understand." Asahina cried out, half rising from her chair.
""The short of it is that though I was under the effects of the poison, they were slowed which allowed me to be revived, but I can explain the rest later." Kirigiri said, levelly.
"But it was possible because of Kimura-san's work!" Naegi put in.
Look, Seiko-Chan, another amazing thing you did-you saved another life. A hero as always. Despite everything, she could not help but feel proud. But something churned in Ruruka's gut as she watched them, as Naegi beamed at them all and continued to hold Kirigiri's hand, as Asahina practically flew over to hug her tightly, and as everyone bombarded Kirigiri (and, to an extent, Naegi) with questions and yet more exclamations of happiness. It didn't take long for Hagakure to try and organise a group-hug, which Asahina enthusiastically took up, somehow even corralling Togami into it (though he looked more than a little uncomfortable, which she would have found amusing in any other circumstance). But after a few moments, they cooled down, and Togami pointed out that even though they were all lucky because of that, there had still been too much lost, which had them all nodding contemplatively. Ruruka closed her eyes at that, not wanting to see all that naked emotion. But she stayed where she was, and listened.
"W-well then. I guess we sho-Kirigiri-san, what are you looking at?"
"Andou-san." Ruruka's eyes flew open again at that, and noticed Kirigiri staring at her, as cool and direct as usual. Reddening a little, she ventured into the tent, but remained at the boundary.
"Huh?" Naegi, Asahina and Hagakure all looked utterly blank.
"Ruruka Andou, Former SHSL Confectioner, leader of the 8th Division." Togami stated, sounding for all the world as if he was reminding them of these things, which made her bristle.
"Seriou-"
"You were alive? Oh, thank goodness for that!" Naegi recovered quickly, and seemed genuinely pleased to see her, which was something. But still…
"But, where were you all this time? We didn't see you anywhere! Were you hiding or something? What happened?" Asahina asked.
"I…..I, well….." now that she could talk to someone, ask what had happened, she found that words deserted her. And her head, it was still so foggy. "Uh…."
"Are you alright though, Andou-san? You're bleeding, and you don't look good." Naegi continued. Bleeding? Ruruka looked down at her herself, and realised that yes, she was indeed bleeding. Not just from her hands, but a lot of other places where she had somehow scraped or cut herself. Well then.
"Yeah, Naegicchi's right, you don't look so good, Andoucchi!"
"Are you all stupid?Don't just stand around making observations, get her to sit down and patch her up!"
"Ah, sure, right! Here, Andou-san, take my chair, I can get another one no problem."
Dazed by the buzz of activity, Ruruka just gawped at Asahina's smiling face, and remained where she was, swaying a little. Then, her knees gave out and everything went black.
…
When Ruruka woke up again, she was what looked like a private hospital room. Sitting up and looking down at herself, she noticed someone had bandaged her, and changed her clothes too, so that she was now in a generic hospital gown. Her old clothes were nowhere to be seen, though she did notice her hat was on the bedside table. But she couldn't tell whether she was in an actual hospital, or if this was the medical wing of one of the Future Foundation's other buildings. The slice of sky she could see through the window from where she was offered no clues, and she did not care to get up and look. Though most of her aches had faded away, there was still a persistent dull feeling deep in her gut, and a pull at her chest. Absently, she put a hand over her heart and sighed. What happens now?
Hearing the door open, she startled. A teenage girl wearing a school uniform and fingerless gloves poked her head around the door, and for an odd moment, Ruruka thought she was Naegi. But of course, that made no sense. This girl was younger, had darker eyes and hair that was in a choppy bob rather than downright spiky. That, and of course, she was a girl.
"Oh! You're awake now, that's good!" the girl grinned. "I was fully expecting that I'd have to report 'nothing's changed' as usual. Onii-Chan will be relieved."
Ruruka tried to process this.
"Have….I been asleep for a long time?"
"Four days. Your life wasn't in danger or anything like that, but all th-actually, I'll go and get Onii-Chan and one of the medicals now, they're better placed to explain this than me. I won't be long! See you!"
Before Ruruka could ask anything else, the girl disappeared again. Annoyed, Ruruka huffed, and leaned back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. But the girl was true to her word, for two people did indeed come by-one a doctor she hadn't met before, and the other being Naegi. Well, that explains it.
"I'm glad you're awake, Andou-san!" Naegi said as they both took up chairs and sat next to her bed. Absently, she noticed that there was a bandage around Naegi's head, but it didn't seem like the injury was particularly devastating, as he was still very peppy.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"I'm….fine. I think. Tired." Empty, twisted, Ruruka added silently. "What actually happened to me? Was I in a coma?"
"No, you weren't." the doctor-person answered. "But between the mental and physical stress of your ordeal and the blood loss incurred from your injuries and your miscarriage, your body was simply exhausted. Luckily, you didn't need a blood transfusion, and there were no other complications. So all you really need is rest and a few good meals in you, and you should be more than fine."
When Ruruka didn't say anything, Naegi jumped in to fill the silence.
"I could go and get you something to eat now, if you like. You're probably pretty hungry, right?"
Ruruka shrugged, petulantly. She supposed she would like something to eat. She needed to eat, in any case. But there were so many other questions she wanted answers to, such as who had been responsible for the game, what had happened in the lead-up to the end, where they were. Not to mention….
"Yeah, I'd like that. But I don't understand one thing though…..did you say something about a miscarriage?"
Both the doctor and Naegi did a double take, the latter seeming particularly stricken as he glanced ton the former for guidance. In the end, it was the doctor who spoke, nodding with a serious pity as he did.
"Ah, I'm assuming that you didn't know then."
…
She tried to tell herself that it didn't matter, that this loss meant nothing. She hadn't even known, over those seven weeks, that a life was forming inside of her. And at seven weeks, that life hadn't been much of a person anyway. What would she have done anyway, with a child? She was in no position to look after a child alone, and even if she hadn't been by herself, the burden of the Tragedy would have made things impossible. Besides, even if she hadn't had the best example as far as parents went, she knew that growing up knowing that one's mother had killed one's father would be far too scarring. And she was a twisted, rotten monster, she didn't want to inflict that on an innocent person. So she tried to tell herself it didn't matter, and would have told anyone who'd listen much the same.
Except she couldn't. No matter how much she tried, when the doctor had left after explaining everything, it seemed as though he'd taken her voice, too. Perhaps it was just a case of having literally been stunned silent, but the next day went by, and the next day, and she still could not say anything at all. So she just existed in that silence, wondering how long it would last.
In that time, her days became a blurry haze of resting and eating, recuperating while the others set about cleaning up after the killing game. For the first couple of days, she remained in the medical wing of what she discovered was a building owned by Togami (and used by the Future Foundation), and later she was moved to a guest bedroom. But as she was struck dumb, she was very clearly placed in the category of 'invalid', and she continued to just be, watching everyone bustling around. It was a minor comfort to her to have Asahina around, who was also mostly recuperating, on account of her leg. Often, the girl would invite her to watch her as she went through rounds of physical therapy, and Ruruka just went along with it.
This was not the only kind human interaction she had though. Naegi visited her often, and so did Komaru, both siblings assaulting her with questions and cheerfully keeping up appearances, talking as if she could actually reply. And once, Kirigiri came by, but that was only to explain the results of the investigation and to fill in all the answers Ruruka hadn't had before. Anyone else she came across was civil at the least.
But still, she could see them measuring her against what they knew of her actions in the killing game and shrink back a little because of it (even if, like the Naegi siblings and Asahina, they were able to push it aside and pretend it wasn't there). She noticed how tense and startled they were around her, whenever they didn't pity her. She remembered how they had basically forgotten about her until she'd turned up at the tent there. She saw and remembered everything. And all of that, combined with the weight of her actual actions, it burned.
She wanted it to stop. She wanted to start afresh. But she knew that would not happen until she could speak again. And she could not see how that would happen.
…
A couple of weeks later, she found herself awake at an early hour, and unusually restless. So she brushed her teeth, changed into one of the outfits hanging in the wardrobe, and then without thinking too much about it, left the room and started wandering. There was no particular route she was taking, but soon she found herself in the communal dining room (this was Togami's place, so of course it would be a dining room and not just a canteen), a place she had not used very often since coming here. And across the room, there was a door that undoubtedly lead to the kitchen-another place she hadn't been before.
Should I…..? The thought raced through her, making her body tingle and her fingers twitch. The last time she'd made anything was just before they'd set off for what was meant to be Naegi's trial. It had been a long time since then. I wonder, will I still be any good at making things? There's only one way to find out. Sneaking glances around her to make sure that nobody was around, she quickly ran across the room and opened the door to the kitchen, relieved when she was able to open it and even more relieved to discover that the lights were off and nobody was there.
Grinning to herself, she quickly flipped on the lights, and surveyed the surroundings. Even though the place was unfamiliar, there was a pretty standard layout, one she could work with. She went around and took a look around at what equipment they had, before working her way through the cupboards and fridge, pulling out every potential ingredient that she could use and laying them out on the counter. She paused a moment to eat a couple of strawberries, to sniff at the cinnamon that had been one of Yoi's favourite flavours, to inspect the icing that was a shade of purple that reminded her of Seiko, but moved like a whirlwind as she found everything. Then, she stood back and inspected everything, hands on her hips. Yes, I can do this! With about 20 different ideas popping into her head almost simultaneously, she decided to just wing it, see how things evolved as she made them. So once she had washed her hands, she did just that.
And just like that, everything-the anger and bitterness and pain-seemed to melt away. All that was there was the ingredients, the equipment, her skill and the promise of something tasty afterwards. Very few memories intruded to try and throw her off, and any that did get through her filters were all happier ones. It had always been like that, right from the start. Whenever she was making some sweet treat or other, especially when it was just for the sake of it, every worry melted away. It was not necessarily a sense of safety-that had come with Yoi, and had gone with him too. But it was comforting, supportive. She went somewhere where she wasn't the product of her demons and her anxieties. It had always been like that, but after everything that had just happened to her, it was even more so.
Some hours passed, but she was barely aware of this, as quite rapidly trays of various confections started to appear on one of the counters. She was just putting some sweets to set for a while in the fridge when a voice made her jump.
"Oh, Andou-san, you came here already!"
She gasped, and stumbled back, before recovering enough to shut the fridge and stare at Naegi, who was standing in the doorway. He laughed at the look on her face, and came a little further inside.
"Ah, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you. You look like you've been quite busy already." He paused as he took in the mess the kitchen had become. "So then. What did you make?"
Ruruka indicated with a flippant hand gesture. Then, on an impulse, crossed the room and went to the counter where her finished goods were and after a moment, picked up a tray of strawberry, apple and peach flavoured macarons and carried it over, yawning a little. Then, she held it out to him and stared, making her meaning clear. Naegi gawped, then pointed at himself, before laughing and shaking his head, and picking out one of the peach flavoured macarons.
"Oh!" he exclaimed after biting into it and chewing for a while. "This is really good!"
He continued to make his way through it, and grinned appreciatively. Now that she was coming out of the zone, the familiarity of his enthusiasm twinged a little, but the pleasure of being appreciated dulled that for now.
As Naegi finished the confection, she took the tray back, and then looked over her shoulder, indicating that he should follow. It took him a moment to get it, but he soon did, and joined her as she put the tray down, and then started to clear away.
"Wow, you've been really busy down here! Just as expected from a former SHSL Confectioner, I suppose. And you've still got some other things cooking, right?"
Ruruka nodded, half paying attention.
"Cool. You can take the time you need, it's no big deal. There's another kitchen here anyway, so it's not as if we'll go hungry waiting for you to finish. Are you going to join us afterwards?"
"No."
"Huh?"
Holding an egg whisk in her hand, Ruruka whirled around and stared at him. Naegi stared back at her, his jaw almost to his knees.
"Did you just….did you just answer me?"
I….what?
"I….I think….so." Her throat felt parched, and her words seemed crackly and dry, but it turned out that she had indeed spoken. I can speak? I can speak again?
"Ah! Let me get you something to drink!"
Naegi searched for a glass, then went to the fridge and poured out some orange juice for her, which he handed to her. She grabbed it and took huge, huge gulps of it, before putting the glass aside. I can speak. I'm alive, and I have a voice. Then, she tried to use her re-found voice to answer the question she saw in Naegi's eyes.
"I'm l-leaving. As soon…as I get the all-clear. I'm leaving."
"The Future Foundation?"
Ruruka huffed and rolled her eyes. Where the hell else would I be referring to?!Embarrassed, Naegi rubbed the back of his head.
"You don't need to do that, Andou-san! You're still a part of the Future Foundation, and your help is still needed."
"Pfft. I wanted…I wanted to leave anyway, even before this happened." She laughed hoarsely. "Now, there's no reason to stay."
"That's no-"
"I lost everything! Everything! There's nothing left for me here anymore, so don't try to tell me that there is. I'm leaving. "
"Uh…okay, okay…" Naegi held up his hands in surrender and looked at her askance, and she realised she'd been brandishing the egg whisk at him, and soap water was dripping on her shoes. Oh great job, Ruruka! Angrily, she rinsed it and put it to dry, and then bored holes into Naegi.
"Let me leave, please. " She asked, quieter this time. Naegi looked at her, and whatever he saw made him soften, and he nodded.
"You can at least stay a while longer, can't you? To help clear out Izayoi-san's things in the other headquarters. And for the funeral? You'd stay for the funeral, wouldn't you?"
The funeral. Yes, I need that. I need a better goodbye than the ones I gave them. So she nodded and started to voice her agreement, when something else Naegi had said filtered in.
"What about Seiko-Chan's things? Can't I help sort those out too?"
"Huh, Seik-oh, you mean Kimura-san? Munakata-san's already dealing with hers. Particularly the medicines, to help open up a new hospital in her name, that's the plan. But yeah, Munakata already volunteered for that, so you don't need to….." Naegi's cheery explanation came to a halt, and he tilted his head.
"Is there something wrong with that, Andou-san?"
"Why does that…that….that….." unable to find the word, she gave up. "Why the hell does he get to sort out Seiko-Chan's things? Why would he even want to? He was hardly her friend, was he? And he…..he…how dare he? Why does he get that privilege when all he is is…..is….you should have asked me!"
"But I thought you hated her? The two of you didn't seem like you got on very well, after all…"
"Well, yes, but….." it's not that simple…..it isn't. We were friends once, weren't we? Even the way Seiko had betrayed her at Hope's Peak, even the showdown they'd had in the killing game, those couldn't erase the good of what had come before-the sunny weekends in the park, snowball fights, walking to and from school, helping each other with homework, an ice-skating session in the local rink, all of the wonderful things that Seiko could do, that Ruruka had not just envied but truly admired. She's still my hero. But….it's too late?
"That's not the point!" she snapped. "You shouldn't have asked him to is the point!"
"A-ah, it wasn't that I asked Munakata. He requested to do so specifically. Sakakura-san's, Yukizome-san's, and also Kimura-san's. Those are the people whose possessions he's taking care of!"
"Huh?" She was still angry, but this got to her. Munakata requested it? What would he get out of that?
"Why?" she asked.
"Ah….well, I'm not too sure myself, really. But something about how if Sakakura-san was still here, he'd want to look after Kimura-san's things. Apparently he doted on her….strange thing to imagine, huh? But I'm not doubting Munakata-san…."
"Oh." Ruruka blinked at that. Certainly, it was a strange thing to imagine that someone like Sakakura could have ever 'doted' on someone like Seiko. Still…..in those last moments before the glass shattered, didn't she say she viewed Munakata as her rescuer? Somehow, putting that fact together with these new things she was learning, suddenly, it did not seem strange. And though her belly churned at the offence of being overlooked, there was a part of her that was….pleased.
"Okay, fine." She muttered, wanting the conversation to be over. "Whatever."
Naegi looked at her askance, and she realised that this wasn't enough. She puffed out a breath, and looked around her, at the food and the kitchen and everything she still had to wash up, before her gaze settled back to Naegi.
"No, really. It doesn't matter. It's not as if you could have known how things were before…..it's fine."
It wasn't an apology, but it was as close as she could get to one for now. It'll have to do.
"Oh, that's good then!" Relieved, Naegi nodded earnestly. Then, there was a pause when they both stared at each other, awkwardly. Naegi stuck his hands in his pocket, and Ruruka fidgeted, before she impulsively wiped her hands on her apron, then went to pick up a cupcake. Then, she held it out to him.
"Here, do you want to have this?"
…
"So, you can stay on if you want, but you're also free to leave. It's as simple as that. Any questions?"
Standing in the boardroom Togami had lent her, Ruruka looked around at the people who had once worked under her, in the 8th Division. They all seemed nervous, fidgeting, sneaking looks at each other, a few even whispering amongst themselves. She supposed that her announcement was a bit of a bombshell, but it was hardly a big deal. She hadn't ordered them to come with her or anything. They were free to do what they wanted. And I guess they'd be glad, too. She didn't think she had been horrible to them (though now, she could never be sure), but it was not as if she'd made an effort to know them. So just as she would not miss them when she went, they would not be devastated by her absence.
"Andou-san, are you going to open up your own shop or something?"
Oh, okay, someone did have a question. Ruruka blinked, and looked at the young woman, who had raised her hand as she'd asked the question. In truth, she had thought very little about what she'd actually do once she'd left. All that had mattered was the leaving.
"I suppose so, at some point. " She answered, neutrally. The woman nodded, her dark green eyes turbulent as she considered this. Kiko, Ruruka absently remembered. Her name was Kiko.
"Well then, I'll come along, if you don't mind." Kiko eventually concluded, not avoiding Ruruka's gaze.
"Wait, with me?"
"Sure." Kiko blushed at this point, grinning a little sheepishly. "I'm not up to your standards, but I like to bake. "
"I-I see." In truth, she didn't. Where does all this kindness come from? Why aren't they…? The room burst into a flurry of speculation and bemusement, as Kiko put her hand down and waited. Ruruka tried to look for any hint of distrust or falseness Kiko's face, but could not see it. Making new friends…..if I am even able to, is this where it starts? I suppose….I suppose I could try.
"Well then, I'd be happy to have you come along with me!"
Then, it was her turn to grin, widely so, when Kiko then decided to get up and cross the boardroom to join her.
…
Watching Munakata break down at the funeral was a bit of an eye-opener. Never had she thought that the man would ever be capable of breaking down utterly, of holding his head in his hands and sobbing so hard, as if this was his own private hell and everyone and everything else around him had just ceased to be relevant. And in a way it was his hell, given that where he was sitting-the row in front of hers-was empty apart from him.
It was not as if the display itself was strange. Loads of the others who were around had been crying in various intensities throughout the funeral service so far. She herself had been weeping for a good ten minutes, and even now tears still leaked from her eyes and made spots on the fabric of her black skirt. Yoi-Chan, Seiko-Chan. I wish it could have been different. I miss you. But seeing Munakata cry like that, it was….she didn't know. Somehow, since that day, and the moment she had brushed past him, she had not seen much of him at all, and even that was a passing glance. It had been easy to forget just how much he mirrored her.
And it hurts. Oh, it hurts.
For a while, she kept half her attention on the funeral service, and half on him. And as she did, she thought, and wondered, and deliberated. And eventually, she could not stand it anymore.
"Excuse me. I'll try not to hit you." She murmured, as she got up and left the row.
"Ruruka-Chan?" Asahina asked.
"Huh? Andou-san, what are you doing?" Komaru asked, astonished. Ruruka shook her head at both of them, and once she had eased out, she quietly padded around and sat next to Munakata. Not too near, of course, but close enough to consider him.
He was (unsurprisingly) oblivious to her presence, and he continued to shatter, his shoulders shaking and breath catching. So, she took a deep breath of her own, and cautiously put a hand on his shoulder, before turning her attention back to the service, and deliberately not looking at him (it was hard enough, feeling his sadness tremble through her hand and up her arm). At first, nothing seemed to happen, but eventually, she did feel his shaking ease off, and he quietened, his breath coming back. It seemed that gradually, he was putting himself back together. Which was what she had wanted.
Once the service drew to a close, she removed her hand, but remained where she was sitting until everyone else got up. Then, she re-joined Komaru, Asahina and Kiko and they started to head to the wake. But Munakata did not. Instead, he simply buttoned up his coat, and slipped away, reaching a hand as if to wipe away any residual tears. He did not look back as he did so. She didn't blame him for it. If she hadn't had Kiko plastered to her side, and if Komaru and Asahina hadn't decided to take her on, perhaps she'd have done the same. And I'll be leaving now, anyway. It's fine.
Even so, she wondered just why she was so disappointed.
…
Some years went by. Ruruka let her hair grow out a little bit. She moved into a small apartment, and instantly filled one half of the wardrobe with those of Yoi's possessions she had chosen to keep, as if he might need easy access to them one day. She also bought an unnecessarily large dining table for her kitchen, and equally unnecessary chairs to go with it, and fell into a routine of eating all her meals at that table and pretending that all was fine.
When she found the best place to start up her shop, she did so straight away, with Kiko's help. Along the way, they somehow acquired a trio of teenage girls-Yumiko, Emi and Naoko- who had nowhere to go, and it didn't take long for them to become a part of their ragtag team too. At first, Ruruka saw them only in terms of the help they could provide her, but just as they quickly became a part of their team, she soon developed something akin to a friendship with them. And in a way, she found it immensely liberating to be befriended by people who knew nothing of who she had been, what tragedies she'd inflicted on herself and had had inflicted on her during the Tragedy.
In the early days, the shop started small, simply because they were limited in what supplies they could get and therefore what variety they could offer. But eventually, they were able to expand, and did become a proper confectionery, with more space and a large range of treats that varied depending on the season. At this point, they became surprisingly popular, for the simple reason that people liked to have other things to think about rather than their mere survival, and they liked being able to want and get nice things. And of course, sweets were one of the easiest 'nice things' out there.
But even as her days became all about the daily running of her sweetshop, Ruruka found that she could not cut ties with Hope's Peak, and the Future Foundation, at least not fully. Visiting Yoi and Seiko's graves at least once a week or so meant that she did inevitably bump into one or some of them from time to time. And Komaru and Asahina still actively kept in touch with her, sometimes coming over to the shop to say hello, or insisting on inviting her out for lunch or to hang out some other place. One summer, Asahina even decided to teach Ruruka to swim, which was a bit chaotic, but in the end she did somehow manage to learn. She couldn't quite understand why it was they insisted, but it seemed to her to be a part of their natures, so at first she went along with it, and eventually, she found it in herself to reciprocate, and one day she started to try to reach out herself, to be the first one to suggest a meeting or an outing, and she found herself happier at this fact than she could ever have imagined. If Yoi was watching over her, she found herself hoping that he would be relieved, that she had such friends. Of course, it was not just Komaru or Asahina who kept her connected, but Naegi himself, too. Though they did not hang out as such, he did visit her shop sometimes, and they met at the graveyard a lot too. And he seemed to consider it a duty of sorts to update her on what was happening within the Future Foundation.
Which was how she ended up collaborating with the Kimura Institute of Medicine.
She'd known that the place was going to exist-they had been in the planning stages when she'd left. It was deemed a good way to put to use not just the medicines Seiko had left behind, but all the research. And there was a lot of that. Which didn't surprise Ruruka at all-Seiko had always been clever, and dedicated, with so many good ideas that actually helped people. And of course the building of what was essentially a hospital with extensive laboratories wasn't such a big deal-hospitals had been going up everywhere since the Tragedy had stopped. What made this one special was that it bore Seiko's name, and did so specifically to honour her. And Ruruka knew, deep down, that that was what she deserved, for what she had did. Even if everything had soured between them, she knew that. Which was why just like she had bristled at the idea that Munakata would decide to clear out Seiko's room, she bristled at this building (certainly, it didn't help that he was in charge of it).
But she hadn't thought she could do anything about it- all she knew was sweets, making sweets. And sure, people liked sweets and they could make people happy, but that was it, really. It was not like actual medicines-they did not save lives or anything particularly special like that. It was something she had always resented, and she could see now how that contributed the deterioration of the friendship she had shared with Seiko. But after a few chance conversations where she'd brought this point up, she found herself with the beginnings of an idea, where perhaps certain medicines could either be administered in the form of a sweet, or at least made to taste more like something nicer. And so one day, she left Kiko and the girls to run the shop, and headed over to the Institute with ingredients, recipes, and samples, and spent a day collaborating with those who worked there, teaching them how to cook (which went reasonably well, given it was just basics), while they attempted to teach her some of the basics of the science (which didn't work so well, despite them trying to stick to their own basics). She left in fairly good spirits about it all, and about a month later, she got a call, asking how they could set things up for her to make regular deliveries. She had found her first 'big' customer.
It was not something she had dreamed, back in the before. When she'd imagined commercial success and 'big' customers, it was not like this. Then again, once she had imagined a future where she'd have Yoi by her side, and at some point that image had included Seiko too. And all those dreams had disappeared. But she hadn't imagined that someone like her could have ever been on a par with Seiko, let alone having actually worked together with her in such a way that made use of both their strengths. And she knew that if she had realised such a thing was possible much, much earlier, then perhaps so much would have changed, perhaps for the better.
"I'm sorry, Seiko-Chan. I wish I worked with you, rather than using you. Can you forgive me?" she asked when she visited the graveyard alone, just after the Kimura Institute had become her first regular.
Of course, there was no answer, because that was not how these things worked, and she knew that. Still, she liked to think that maybe now, finally, she would be forgiven. But she also knew that it would make little difference if she stopped, didn't move forward and keep trying to live for them. Any forgiveness would be meaningless if she lapsed.
So though every day still hurt, she carried on.
…
She was taking down decorations from a summer-themed display they'd had in the shop when he came in, and she was so surprised she almost fell off the ladder.
"Andou-san! Are you alright?" Yumiko asked anxiously from where she was holding the ladder steady at the bottom. Ruruka laughed awkwardly, and steadied herself.
"Yeah, no worries, I'm fine." Well, apart from the massive surprise that just walked through the door, she silently snarked, but as she turned her attention to him, she fixed a generically polite smile on her face.
"Munakata. It's been a while. What brings you here?"
Munakata hesitated for a moment, and studied her with his good eye. The other one was now just a closed-up wound. He had made no attempt to hide it though. He seemed taller than she remembered, though she wasn't sure. Certainly, the long grey trench coat he had (one that oddly reminded her of Yoi's red coat, the spares of it she had in her wardrobe) seemed to add to that impression. And though he no longer looked broken, there was a certain fragility in the way he watched her, considering his words.
"Not anything in particular. I was just interested in seeing what you had going on here. Looks like you've been as busy as Naegi said." He eventually answered.
"Well," Ruruka started to climb back down, the taken-down decorations slung over her shoulder. "Feel free to take your time looking around. Do you want a grand tour?"
"No, I'm fine." Munakata nodded at her, and then went over to a section with different boxed chocolates, and looked at them. Ruruka shook her head and continued to climb down. Once she was on the ground, she pushed the pile of decorations onto a confused looking Yumiko.
"Here, take these and put them away, will you? And perhaps put the ladder away for now-get Emi-Chan to help you if you need to."
"Okay…" Yumiko pursed her lips. "You're trailing him then?"
When Ruruka just shrugged, Yumiko's frown deepened, and she played with a strand of her curly scarlet hair.
"Why? Is he a dodgy type or something?"
No…he was just a monster, like me.
"No, we worked together once." Ruruka sighed. "A long time ago."
"Oh!" understanding sparked. "Back then."
Yumiko did not need to say what the then referred to. They both knew all too well. Though there's so much you don't know, or need to know. Ruruka nodded grimly, then let out another sigh, before rubbing the back of her head and smiling again.
"Oh, right. Well, Andou-san, I'll leave you to it." Yumiko replied, gathering the display decorations and striding off. Ruruka watched her go for a moment, then caught sight of Kiko at the tills, watching her curiously. Beaming, she smiled and saluted her to indicate she was fine, then searched for Munakata, finding him at the pick-and-mix section. What am I hoping for, exactly?
"Are you going to pick anything? We've got quite a variety." she asked, as she approached him, gesturing at the selection they had. Munakata studied her again in the same way as he had moments before.
"You do have quite the variety. Did you make everything here?"
"What do you take me for?" she pulled a face. "Though, it'd be more accurate to say that everything here is made from my own recipes. The actual making….that could be me, or Yumiko-Chan-who I was talking to now-, or Kiko-Chan at the tills there, or the other two girls."
"I see." Munakata raised an eyebrow, and she bristled. What?! But his surprise disappeared quickly, and he went back to scrutinising the different pick-and-mix sweets. She stood there for a moment, wondering how he did it. How, bearing the weight he bore, he still stood. She'd managed it by throwing everything into where she stood now, and kept going because she had to in order for everything she'd done and felt to mean something. Did he do the same thing? Or was this the point at which their parallels diverged? She knew that they were fundamentally different people, but still. They had become the same now. And though time had made it so now she could look at him without flinching, he was still as much a mirror as the framed piece of glass above her bathroom sink was. She thought of facing him after the game, tired and blinded and bleeding and still unaware of what she had lost. But does he know it, after all these years? Does he even remember?
"You're still a part of the Future Foundation?" she asked, awkwardly.
"Yes, I am." He answered simply, without looking at her. Hesitantly, he took a paper cup, and flicked open a container containing round fruit-flavoured sweets, before taking the scoop and carefully measuring a few into the paper cup.
"Last Mako-Chan told me, you were rebuilding a train station."
"I was overseeing that, yes. I finished a couple of weeks ago."
If he was surprised at how she referred to Naegi he didn't show it. Instead closed the picked out a couple of sprinkle-studded chocolates, then a scoop of strawberry laces, and some mints, before pausing again and considering.
"What are you doing next, then?"
"There's a lot that still needs to be restored." Munakata shrugged, but didn't elaborate. A silence passed. Ruruka listened to the sounds of her girls, and the customers, and wondered what to ask.
"Ah, speaking of Mako-Chan, are you atten-"
"Sakakura liked sweets." Munakata burst out suddenly, interrupting her question. She blinked at him, derailed for a moment.
"Huh?"
"Sakakura liked sweets. Sweet things. He never overindulged or anything as such. But definitely, he enjoyed his sweets."
"Oh. I didn't rea-"Yes you did. That's why you tried that, back then. That's why you chose him and not either of the others for that particular gambit. You knew. Ruruka put a hand over her mouth, and just looked at Munakata, stricken and unable to tear her gaze away. Munakata frowned at her curiously, and she shook it away, pulled herself together. There was another silence, then she shrugged, then looked at the half-filled pick-and-mix cup in Munakata's hand.
"What about you? Do you like sweets?"
"I suppose. They're not my favourite thing in the world though." Munakata replied.
"Not your favourite thing? How is that possible?" Ruruka pretended to be offended. "We need to convert you! Okay, so what is your favourite food at the moment?"
"Eggs." Was the immediate answer. Ruruka sweatdropped.
"Okay, never mind. Pick a couple of things from here to fill that cup, then I'll take you to my personal recommendations. "
Munakata looked puzzled, but complied, seeming to pick a few things almost at random, before securing the lid on the paper cup, and staring expectantly at her. She grinned to hide the feelings churning around in her, and went straight to the macarons, in the centre of the shop.
"We have chocolate, orange, apple, strawberry and vanilla flavoured ones today. Plus an orange-and-cinnamon combination, and a vanilla-chocolate marbled." She said, pointing out each individual one as she did so.
"Like a marbled cake?"
"Yes, exactly! Pick some to buy? We've got individual ones, as well as mixed packages."
"Hmm, perhaps I will." Munakata bent slightly to read the pricings. "These are the confections you personally recommend?"
"Yes, definitely."
"They're your favourites, then?"
"No." seeing the query in his eye, she pushed on to explain before she regretted it. It is only fair.
"But they were Yoi-Chan's. He loved all sweet things, but above all, macarons were his favourite. He'd eat them for entire meals, if he thought he'd get away with it. Which he did. This shop will always stock them, no matter what happens. "
She looked Munakata squarely in the eye then, almost daring him to undermine or defy what she had said. He maintained contact levelly, then closed his eye and sighed, a deep sound that shuddered through him. And though he didn't say anything, he inclined his head, and she sensed that he understood.
"Then I suppose I'll take one of each type, then….and I still need to look around a bit. "
"Awesome! Take your time, I'll leave you to it."
Walking away, Ruruka went to Kiko at the till, discreetly pointed out Munakata, explained who he was and asked her to do a favour. Once she'd got Kiko's agreement, she went and did her own work, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he eventually went up to pay for his package of macarons and his pick-and-mix cup. When he had done so, and Kiko had handed him his goods in a paper bag, he crossed over to where she was.
"Well then. I'll see you again sometime, Andou." He said, simply, bag swinging in his hand.
"I'd hope so." Ruruka pulled a face to lighten the comment, and somehow, this made Munakata smile, and he nodded his goodbye to her before leaving the shop. Ruruka blinked in his wake, then went back over to Kiko.
"Did you do it?"
"Yeah, sure. But why the fried eggs though?" she asked, referring to the egg-shaped jelly sweets. "That's a strange thing to slip in as a secret treat."
"Yes, well." Ruruka felt herself redden a little, and she shrugged. "We're all pretty strange ourselves, Kiko-Chan."
"Hmmmm. Okay, forget it. I don't think I'll get it anyway. So, Munakata-san seemed to like the shop. He recognised me as well, actually. Do you think he's coming back?"
Ruruka shrugged again.
"He said he would. But we'll see."
…
He did come again. It took a couple of weeks, but he did. And he came again, and soon, he was more or less a regular to the shop. Naoko called him their 'irregular regular', given how some weeks he'd come in almost every day, and then not come in again until maybe a month later. Each time he came, Ruruka would make a point of talking to him, and they had conversations, usually stilted but polite. She could not say that she called him a friend, as such. But from time to time, something deeper would be hinted at, whether it was the time Munakata confessed to her that Sakakura and Yukizome's ghosts followed him around on a daily basis, or when she described to him how Yoi's last moments had unfolded with excruciating detail. The things that they could not talk of to anyone else, they told each other, in fits and starts, over sweet displays and the till, or sometimes as a parting word at the entrance. They were not friends or anything as simple as that, but there was a something, and it stemmed from their shared monstrosity. Ruruka was sure of it. And so she attempted to move the whatever-it-was one step forward around six months later.
"So are you attending it then? Mako-Chan and Kyouko's wedding?" she asked while walking with him to the door. Munakata hesitated.
"It's coinciding with the opening of the new school." He eventually said. "The New Hope Academy."
"So that's a yes then." Ruruka rolled her eyes, but grinned at him.
"Are you going?"
"I'm making the cake. Of course I am."
"Yes, of course you are." Munakata nodded. "I…I look forward to seeing that cake."
"You'd better be. But are you excited enough to see it early, Muna-Chan?"
He raised an eyebrow at the nickname she'd created on the fly, but made no comment.
"I don't understand what you mean, Andou."
"Tch, I mean come with me. Otherwise you'll be without co-living company, that is. And how's that going to be any fun?" She said, nodding to an empty space where she assumed his ghosts stood.
"All you have to do is meet me here on the day. So, hows about it?"
Munakata looked away, into the same empty space that she'd just nodded at, and sighed, before looking back at her. He smiled, faint and rare.
"Alright then."
They made the arrangements, exchanged numbers and then he left, as usual. Between then and the wedding/school opening, his visiting schedule was much the same. On the day itself, he was punctual, and helped her and Emi with loading the cake and everything else on the van, and then when they got there, assisted them with the set-up, before the occasion actually started.
And though she spent most of her time during the actual occasion manning the food stand and he seemed to spend most of his time hovering around the edges of the celebrations, he spent enough of his time near her that she ended up fielding a whole lot of awkward questions from Komaru and Asahina in particular. But she enjoyed herself thoroughly, and it seemed like he did too, which was something. Certainly, seeing such a happy couple didn't hurt as much as she'd expected it to. When the day finished, they went back to the shop together, and he helped her put things away, before they went their separate ways.
In the days immediately after, it didn't really seem like much had changed-they still really only met in the context of the shop, and though now they had each other's numbers, they didn't use them all that much (though when they did, it was always to check in, a simple question of whether one or the other was holding up).
But then just over a month later, on one of the only two days of the year the shop was shut, something did change, and this time, it was Munakata who initiated this change.
…
"Oh. It's you. How did you know my address?"
"I asked Naegi."
"Right, yes, of course." Ruruka felt like she should have come up with a more cutting response, but it was hard to muster sarcasm when she was answering the door in her pyjamas and a pink fluffy dressing gown with a hood that made her look like a unicorn. There was also the odd fact that Munakata had a bouquet of flowers in his hands.
After blinking for a moment, Ruruka pushed down the hood of her dressing gown and shook her head in bemusement. Oh, why today? Everyone knew to leave her alone on this day, she made a point of mentioning it, even if the reason behind it had become the great unspeakable. She wanted to be alone. But for some reason, she couldn't turn Munakata away.
"Okay, whatever." She still didn't bother to hide her annoyance. "Come in. Are they there too?"
"No…..I left them at home. I think." Munakata turned around, scanning the surroundings, then sighed. "Yeah, they're at home today."
"Well then." Ruruka shrugged, and silently marvelled at how casual she was being. I'm not fully awake yet, am I? Then again, it was not like she could judge anyway. Just because they did not appear to her or talk to her, it didn't mean that she didn't have ghosts too.
She took Munakata to her living room once he had slipped off his shoes, and sat cross-legged at the end of the only sofa. He stared at her for a moment, then sat more sedately at the other end, still holding the flowers carefully. Then, they just stared at each other for a while. Ruruka yawned slightly, Munakata fidgeted, and eventually it was he who broke his gaze and looked away for a moment, before looking back at her and abruptly holding out the flowers to her, face stonily serious.
"Huh?" It took a few seconds for her to process what she was seeing. "Are you….giving them to me?"
There was a nod, and his expression didn't waver. Ruruka took the flowers, and looked down at them. For some reason, she felt her cheeks go slightly pink, and she shook her head in annoyance, willing it away.
"What's this for? There's no occasion or anything." She half-mumbled, not wanting him to see her face.
"Not as such. But isn't it today? What would have been…..Kokoro's birthday?"
What?
Wildly, she looked up, convinced that she had misheard, or that he was joking. Munakata's face was still serious, but now there was something pensive about the way his mouth was turned downwards.
"You…you knew?" the words came out whispery, almost cracked. Just like back then. "I…"
A lot of horrible things had happened during the Tragedy, things so much worse than this loss of hers. And everyone still talked about those things, admittedly with different levels of ease, but still, they were talked about. But the fact that she'd lost a child who would never be a person -it was the one thing that nobody spoke of, out of all the things that happened. Who could blame them? It had stopped her from speaking completely for a while.
It was an elephant in the room wherever she went, the reason why those who knew slid her pitying looks whenever they talked about children around her, why conversations hushed and sputtered whenever they veered dangerously close to her experiences. It seemed to be the main reason that she had been treated so much more kindly than she knew she realistically had deserved back then. But it was too awkward, too embarrassing and horrible to speak about, and so despite all these things not a single word was uttered about the matter, by anyone.
In return for the kindness, she indulged them, and didn't talk about it either. She assumed the child would have been a girl, named her Kokoro for the part of her heart that had disappeared before she'd known it had been stolen, and committed the date that would have been her birthday to the hole that was left. And she'd gotten a small wooden plaque with the name carved on it, lodged in an almost-hidden corner of Yoi's grave. She also had a framed piece of calligraphy on the wall of her shop. But just as she evaded any questions as to what that meant, she didn't complain when the others flowers inevitably hid the plaque at the graveyard, and didn't make them look when they inevitably averted their eyes. She just secretly pushed the flowers out of the way, and made sure not to look at them avoiding it. And she remained silent, and pretended that none of it mattered, making the same justifications to herself that she'd tried to make before. But though this time she could say them if she wanted to, there was nobody to listen.
Apparently, that had changed.
"That….I did get that right, didn't I? Kokoro. That's what you named….uh."
"Her." Ruruka murmured. "Kokoro would have been a little girl, I know it. Eleven today."
"Would you have made her a cake, if she had been here?"
"Of course I would have. With her name on it, and candles. In her favourite flavour, whatever that would have been….and she probably would have tried to eat as much of it today as she could, like Yoi-Chan did on his birthday…."
She would probably have had my eyes and face-shape and sense for ingredients, and Yoi-Chan's hair and huge appetite and his slow, easy smile. She most likely would have been cute, and silly, and clever, and frustrating but wonderful. She could have been anyone, but instead she is no-one at all. And it's my fault.
"But…..I don't understand, why you….this…." Ruruka sighed, and gave up, shrugging heavily. She wasn't sure what she was asking, not exactly. Munakata closed his eye for a moment.
"I'm not too sure either." Munakata eventually admitted. "But I knew it was important."
"Well then. " Ruruka looked down at the flowers, and a laugh wobbled its way out of her. "Kudos to you, I guess, for being so unpredictable."
"Unpredictable?"
"Well, sure. You just broke the biggest taboo by coming here, by giving me these and actually mentioning the fact that Kokoro could have existed, let alone mentioning her name." She explained, laughing a little more bitterly this time.
"This is the first time I've ever been able to say her name aloud in a conversation. Figured you the biggest upholders of tradition, you know? Like, it's 'okay' to mention that I killed Yoi-Chan, that I betrayed him and he still….he still didn't mind and forgave me everything and that's chalked up to the effects of the game, and the fact I tried to kill Seiko-Chan too, and then when she died anyway I just desecrated her body thinking to frame the attacker for Yoi-Chan's death, and trying to tell her to kill you...that was much the same. But, when it comes to a miscarriage, to losing what Kokoro could have been….it's just…"
She stopped, feeling tears come up, her throat seeming to clog up a little. She put the flowers on her lap, and pressed her hands to her mouth for a moment, a little too hard as she tried to push the feelings back. Then, she flicked her glance up at Munakata, who hadn't moved at all, who was still watching her in the same way that he had been all this time.
"But still….thank you, Muna-Chan."
"That's fine." Munakata said, simply. He tipped his head to the side. "What are you doing for the rest of the day? Visiting the graves?"
"Perhaps later." Ruruka shrugged. "I might go back to sleep for a while. Maybe later I'll mess around in the kitchen. Make ice-cream, sit here and watch sappy movies while eating all of it. Put on one of Yoi-Chan's coats and fall asleep in it by accident, like I did about two years ago. Cry a lot. Oh, I don't know. But yeah, I'll most probably go later."
"I see. Well…." Munakata fidgeted slightly, as if he was about to get up. On an impulse, Ruruka shot her hand out and grabbed his, curling her fingers around his tightly. None of this is fair.
"Can't you stay?" she pleaded, looking up at him beseechingly, the tears that she hadn't wiped away hurting her eyes. "You don't have anything to do today, do you? You're back for now, right? So can't you stay with me?"
"I-I'm not…" seeming startled, Munakata pulled his hand away from hers, a little harshly, and gawped at her. "I can't…..do anything like that…I understand what you must be going through, what you're…feeling right now…I'm not interested in that sort of relationship anymore. I can't…"
"What? What are you talking about?" Confused, Ruruka lifted her rejected hand, and looked down at it, before looking back up at the almost stricken Munakata, before it hit her.
"I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!"
Incensed, she launched herself at him, letting the new wave of tears fall as she beat at his chest violently and ineffectually with clenched fists.
"That's not what I meant! That's not what I was trying to say! Why would I ask that of you? That's stupid! I know that you've still got Yukizome, that she's waiting for you along with Sakakura, that you'll go straight to find them and apologise to them as soon as you die! I'll be doing the same, for Yoi-Chan, and Seiko-Chan too. I still have him in the same way, and you know that too, don't you? You should do! Aren't we the same, after all? Don't you see a mirror, when you look at me? Because I do. We're the same sort of monster, after all, aren't we? You killed Sakakura, and I killed Yoi-Chan, and their only crimes were loving us, such creatures so fucking afraid of betrayal. We failed the ones we once claimed to love. We're both monsters, reflecting each other, and I know it!We broke along the exact same fault lines, and there's no glue to fix that."
"Andou….."
"But…..we're still here, and alive somehow, right? One foot after the other, over and over. That's what we've been doing, right? And we're still sad, aren't we? I'm sad. I'm really sad. I miss them so much….and you miss them, too. That's why you have their ghosts with you all the time. So even though we're monsters, we can't be all bad, because if we were, we wouldn't be in pain. But who else would get that? Who else would understand that, apart from someone who was damaged in the same way? Who the hell else would be there, if it was just me? Or just you? How would we be able to get help to keep going? And….I want to live. I want to know that I'm still not completely alone, not while I'm on this earth. Just because we're monsters, doesn't mean that we can't be happy again for a little while, right? That's…. fair enough, isn't it? Isn't it?"
Losing steam, she let her hands loosen, dropped them so that they leaned against the lapels of his jacket. She closed her eyes, and she cried. She wailed, loud and messy and unrestrained, and forgot to care about such things. Time passed, and soon the noises ripping themselves from her started to quieten and become thicker, and she tried to catch her breath. Munakata remained still, though she could half-hear his breathing. But then, hesitantly, he put a hand on her back. Ruruka's eyes opened at that, but she didn't look up.
"I…..I don't think we're monsters." He rubbed her back cautiously. "I'm not sure I'd call it that. I….I didn't stab Sakakura easily. It wasn't easy for me, even though I was so convinced of the righteousness it of the time. "
"You acted as if it was easy. You just walked away." Ruruka muttered.
"You saw that?" Munakata seemed taken off-guard for a moment, and then he sighed. Ruruka imagined him closing his eye for a moment.
"Yes, well. That didn't finish him off immediately, but still, in the end, what do those details matter when this is what we're left with? Despite that, I don't think we were monsters, for what we did. We were still human."
"Humans are the scariest type of monster."
"…..I can't argue with that, I suppose. Not after what I've seen. But I won't call myself a monster. However….whatever you call it, I guess you're right. This is a very particular kind of grief, isn't it? It's not something most people go through. And it's enough punishment, isn't it? I'm sorry, Andou. "
At that, she looked up slowly, startling for a moment to see Munakata's face so close to hers. He smiled, wryly.
"I never did thank you for the funeral. For being there like that for me. "
"Gee, you actually noticed?" Ruruka managed to quip. He nodded.
"Not…completely, as such. It didn't really register at the time. But somehow, I knew that it was you. Perhaps because we're bound, you with Izayoi and Kimura, myself with Sakakura and Chisa, bound in the same way. Mirror images, like you said."
"Mmm. Yeah." Ruruka bit her lip, pensively. "It's okay."
She hesitated for a moment, but then she hugged Munakata tightly. He returned the hug, almost as tightly, and though he came up short against what she remembered of Yoi's embraces (not as warm, slightly more restrained, less solid, a faint scent of mint rather than sandalwood), in that hug was a sense of comfort. Who would have known, huh?
When she wriggled away, Ruruka remembered the flowers, and discovered that the bouquet had landed on the floor. She picked it up, and breathed a sigh of relief when she discovered that they were still unscathed.
"I'll go find a bottle or something to put these in. They'll look nice on my table." She got up, gesturing to the dining table behind them. Munakata nodded, and got up to follow her to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as she searched. She eventually found a jar that she thought would suffice, and filled it half-way with water. She unwound the pink ribbon that tied the flowers together, before putting them in the jar. She carried it over to her table, and set it precisely in the middle, before stepping back and admiring them for a moment. Then, she made Munakata wait there, while she went back to her room to change into day clothes and tidy up her hair.
Once she was ready, she made egg toast for the two of them, and they ate it together silently, at her dining table. Then, with a minimal amount of words, they left the house together to go to the graveyard. On the way they made two stops-one to get flowers to take there, and the other to let Yukizome and Sakakura out of Munakata's house so that they could join them.
When they arrived, they were alone. Ruruka went straight to Yoi's grave, and Munakata followed. From the looks of the particularly fancy looking bouquets on all the graves, Togami had visited earlier in the week, and there were flowers hinted at other recent visitors too, though there were a few withering ones that needed clearing away. Naturally, the ones at Yoi's covered the small plaque in the corner, and she pulled a plastic bag out of her handbag to put the withered ones into. But before she could kneel down and get on with it, Munakata was already on his knees, rearranging the flowers silently. After a few moments, he stood up again, the withered ones in his hands. Ruruka gave him the plastic bag, and looked at what he had done, and noticed that now, rather than hiding the wooden plaque, some of the flowers were arranged to frame it, bring it to attention, while the rest just leaned almost artfully against the headstone. Kokoro. Something about the sight made her feel a little lighter again, and though she wanted to cry again, this time it was in happiness.
"I've learnt to arrange the flowers to look nice. For Chisa." Munakata explained, smiling at the empty space on his left side. Ruruka nodded, discreetly wiping a couple of tears that had welled up, and aimed a grin in the same direction. See? I'm not alone.
"Of course. Then how about we go over there and clean up hers next?"
…
Walking up to the front gate, Ruruka felt a little awkward. In the first place, she had rarely visited them here, and when she had, Naegi had always been there. She'd never really interacted with Kyouko by herself, so she wasn't sure where, exactly, she stood with her. She didn't think that she disliked the former Detective, as such, Ruruka mused as she opened the gate and went up the path to the door. She supposed that she'd count her as a friend too. But the last time they'd just talked, the two of them, had quite literally been years ago, when they were emerging from the aftermath of the Tragedy. These days, it was mostly because Ruruka had kept up a friendship with Naegi and Komaru that they interacted at all. So this was strange for her.
Oh, deal with it. She slapped at her cheeks to put herself together, then reached up to the doorbell before she realised that would not be the best idea, and instead rapped at the door with her knuckles, and waited. A few moments passed, and Kyouko opened the door, holding her infant son to her chest, her long hair pulled back in a plait and wide lilac eyes still bright despite the faint bags underneath them.
"I thought there were two of them." Ruruka blurted out, instantly wanting to face-palm the moment the words left her mouth. Kyouko blinked for a moment, then let out a low chuckle.
"Yes, yes there are. Why don't you come in?" she let Ruruka in, and closed the door behind her while Ruruka pulled off her boots and shrugged off her jacket, hanging it on the coat rack before following Kyouko into the living room.
Kyouko went straight to the three-seater sofa, and Ruruka sat on the armchair opposite. There were two Moses baskets with handles next to the three-seater, and sure enough, while one was empty, the other was occupied by another sleeping baby, the twin of the child Kyouko was holding. After readjusting the blankets in the empty basket, Kyouko lowered the baby into the basket and tucked him in, before returning her attention to Ruruka.
"My best guess is that Makoto asked you to come over, to keep me company a while."
"Ehhh…well…ahh…" Ruruka pulled a few faces, and eventually shrugged. "Yeah. I guess he's concerned about you getting lonely, being at home all by yourself all day. I don't know. But I brought cake!"
Ruruka held up the bag and grinned, and Kyouko smiled serenely at her.
"That's kind. Thank you. I'll take it into the kitchen later." Ruruka nodded, and set the bag on the coffee table in front of her.
"I'm glad you could come round. There isn't really anything for Makoto to worry about, but it is nice to have people around you too. But isn't this coming out of your time? What about your shop?"
"Ahh, Kiko-Chan and the girls can handle the shop without me for a couple of hours, it's really not a big issue. Trust me, if it was, I would have refused Mako-Chan's request."
"I see. Well….like I said, I'm glad. Still, it's not as if I'm by myself." Kyouko looked over at the two sleeping babies, with a look of utter gratitude. Ruruka looked over too, and studied them. They were small enough that they didn't particularly look like anyone (let alone either parent), but both had soft tufts of hair the same colour as their father's. She obviously could not see either of their eyes, but according to Komaru, they'd inherited those from their mother. I guess I can understand the feeling. It wasn't a secret that after so many anguished years of unsuccessful tries, the two boys were incredibly treasured
"They're cute, aren't they? This is the first time I've seen them in person." Ruruka commented. Kyouko nodded.
"Yes, it would be. "She hesitated for a moment. "Would you like to hold them?"
"Uh…both at once?" Ruruka gawped, and wondered how she would do that. Kyouko shook her head in amusement.
"No, no."
"Well…" Now it was Ruruka's turn to hesitate. Perhaps it should have hurt, seeing other people's children, especially those of her friends. But it didn't, really. She still enjoyed seeing Asahina's three, Emi's son and daughter, Yumiko's son, Komaru's three girls, even Togami's daughter. She interacted with them, played with them, taught them to bake, and did not see her own lost possibilities in them. Still, she had always balked a little at holding them all as babies. But for some reason, she found she could not refuse Kyouko.
"Yeah, sure, I may as well. " Ruruka shrugged. Kyouko studied her searchingly, then gave a more elegant shrug of her own, before considering her sons, before bringing both baskets over, and setting them by the armchair Ruruka was sitting in, and then scooping up one of her sons, and placing him carefully in Ruruka's arms. Awkwardly, she tried to cradle him, and Kyouko quietly showed her how to adjust her hold. Then, she picked up her other son with an almost enviable ease, and went to sit on the other armchair.
There was a silence, as Ruruka looked down at the baby in her arms. He looks so peaceful. I wonder what he's dreaming of. His breath came out in warm little puffs, and his tiny hands were closed in determined fists. She chuckled at the tiger-striped sleepsuit that he was in, and wondered who had brought that for him. I'd have liked one of those for Kokoro, if she had survived. Ruruka blinked at the thought, startled at how quickly and intensely it had come. Perhaps this was why she had never held her friends' children when they were babies. Breathe, Ruruka. It doesn't matter now.
"So…." Ruruka broke the silence as she tried to pull herself together. "Who am I holding then?"
"That's Kouichi." Kyouko told her. Then, she nodded to the baby in her own arms. "This is Kiyoshi."
"Kouichi and Kiyoshi. Nice. They even sound like a matching set. Did you do that on purpose?"
"No."
"Oh, okay." Ruruka pulled a face and shrugged. Why did I ask that in the first place?
"Kiyoshi is named for Makoto's late grandfather." Kyouko explained. "We had considered 'Hikaru', for his father, but Komaru stole a variation of that to name Hikari."
Ruruka tilted her head curiously, but Kyouko was as matter of fact as she would be with a more mundane bit of information.
"And…what about Kouichi, then?"
At that, Kyouko didn't provide an explanation, but just looked at her with her usual calm, wide gaze. Ruruka frowned at her, wondering what was going on. Am I meant to know the answer? She wracked her brain, trying to think of what she knew of the circles Naegi and Kyouko inhabited. Then, all of a sudden, it hit her. Oh. Oh.
"Wait, you don't mean, as in Kiza…" Ruruka trailed off and gulped. Kyouko nodded in confirmation, her expression betraying nothing. Feeling guilty, Ruruka avoided her eyes, and looked down at the baby she was holding without really seeing him. Kouichi. Well, of course that makes sense. She watched the events unfold again in her memory, as vivid as they had been when it had actually happened. The realisation that there was one trap they hadn't yet found, and that Kyouko was right on top of it. Her rapidly mounting fear being eclipsed by the excitement of realising that there was still a way to save herself. Reassurance that everything would be fine. She hadn't had time or the wherewithal to feel remorse for that moment. She had been scared, after all. And she'd been grieving, so of course she hadn't been thinking clearly.
But it had still been wrong. She had not intended for the scene to play out like it had. She'd just acted on a very real, all-consuming fear, a sense of self-preservation, still dizzy and sick from what she had done to Yoi. But still, it had been wrong. She hadn't imagined for a moment that what had happened did, but it had, and now they were here, so many years later. So….
"I'm sorry." Ruruka murmured.
"Hmm?"
"I'm sorry." She repeated, a little louder, feeling her lips tremble. Still holding tightly to baby Kouichi, she got up, and took the few steps that had her standing in front of Kyouko, and then she bowed, deeply.
"I'm sorry, Kyouko-Chan, that you had to name him that."
Ruruka waited a moment, a long one in which Kyouko didn't say anything, and then slowly straightened up, and met Kyouko's eyes. Kyouko gazed at her, appearing deep in contemplation for a moment, before she nodded carefully.
"I'm not sure it'd be correct to say that it's alright, because it won't be, but….I accept the apology."
Oh, thank goodness. Ruruka could not hold back her deep sigh of relief, but Kyouko wasn't done yet.
"And, well, to be honest, I've never really liked the name 'Jin'."
It took a moment for the words to filter through Ruruka's head, never mind trying to put together the information she needed to understand it. But once she got it, she laughed and laughed.
…
"I'm sorry about that, Ma'am. " Once she'd finally managed to coax the twins out of the shop, she apologised to the elderly woman who had been waiting in line behind them.
"Oh no, it's no trouble at all." The woman said. "Are they your nephews?"
"They're my friend's kids. The 'auntie' is just a term of endearment." Ruruka cheerfully corrected as she rung up the items.
"Aww, that's still rather sweet. It's nice, isn't it, seeing children being able to run around and just be children."
"Yeah, it is!" Ruruka agreed, though she didn't know exactly what the customer was getting at. But she seemed undeterred, and continued.
"I mean, those days of the Tragedy is still so vivid to me….you're a young one, I know, but I suspect that you were still old enough to know and understand what was going on. In your twenties, I'm guessing"
"Yes, that's right. I remember it well too."
"Yes, I thought so! But I assume you were still able to believe that things would fix themselves, that you'd still have enough life left afterwards, at that age. But I was a lot older you see, and in that type of circumstance….I honestly believed that I'd die while the world was still like that."
"Oh, I don't know, Ma'am. There were a lot of times that I honestly believed that I was going to die too. Came close to it too…..but we were one of the lucky ones, weren't we?"
"Oh, we definitely were!" the woman beamed, clearly pleased with herself for some reason. Ruruka bit down on her confusion, and told the woman the total cost her items had come up to, taking the money and putting it in the till before printing out a receipt and getting the correct change.
"Still, at least it's over now. Would you like a bag for your items?"
"Oh, yes, of course. Thank you!" the customer put her change in her purse, then gratefully accepted Ruruka's assistance in putting all her items in her bag, and continued to prattle about her experiences during the Tragedy.
"I'm just glad that more than three decades later, I'm still here and able to say that I'm alive now. "The elderly woman eventually concluded. "Wouldn't you agree?"
Huh? Somehow, she managed to muster a nod and a suitably earnest farewell before the old woman made her way out of the shop. Mercifully, there was no other customer waiting behind her, so Ruruka was able to sit down on the chair behind the till.
Three decades. Thirty years. Ruruka held out her hands in front of her, and looked at them. For a moment, her vision flashed, and she saw blood stains on them.
"Well, she's a chatty one, isn't she? Still, she's lovely, rea-hey, Andou-san, are you okay?"
Blearily pulled back to the present, Ruruka stared up at Naoko, who studied her with concern. Rubbing her eyes, she got up.
"Take over the till for a little while, would you, Naoko-Chan? I need to go to the back for a moment."
"Yeah, sure. But are….are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Before Naoko could ask anything else, she rushed off to her office, and sat down heavily on her comfy chair, and looked at everything on her desk. The calendar, the recipe books, her stationery, the various cute trinkets scattered around, the folders of paperwork. And the photographs, of the dead and of the living. Thirty years. It's been over thirty years.
"Has it really been that long?" she asked aloud, picking up a snow globe, picking it up and shaking it, watching the glitter spin around and then slowly settle again. Putting it down, she opened one of the desk drawer, briefly considered making a call to Munakata, then remembered that they were meeting for dinner that evening anyway, so she shut the drawer, and turned her attention to the photographs. She ran her fingers over the glass of each photograph, chuckling when she reached the picture of Kouichi and Kiyoshi with their parents. They were rambunctious fifth graders now, while the picture showed them as bonny three-year-olds. I really need to get a new photograph soon. Perhaps on their next birthday.
When her fingers reached the last two photographs, she became serious again. Yoi-Chan, Seiko-Chan. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she took a few breaths in to steady herself.
"Has it really been that long, then? It has been, hasn't it?" Of course it was. She knew that, really, just based on the maths. She'd spent more years on the earth without Yoi than she ever had with him. And that could even apply to Seiko. God, that isn't fair. That isn't how it was supposed to be. Picking up the two photographs, she went to the small window, and looked out at the sunlight breaking through the grey clouds, making the puddles on the ground glow as people got on with their lives.
This isn't how things were meant to go. If I could change things, I would. But…I wanted to live. She had wanted to live, and she had been afraid and messed up, and that was why everything had gone wrong. But she had paid the price for her sins, she'd tried her best to atone. She'd put one foot in front of the other, over and over, so that at least it would all mean something in the end. Somehow, she'd made her way through more than three decades, and was still here.
She still wanted to continue that way, though.
She still wanted to live. Yoi and Seiko were waiting for her to join them, she knew, and she yearned to see them again, to go and apologise to them. She missed them so badly. But she was not ready to die, not yet. She still wanted to live, there was still so much living to do. But it was alright, because she just had to hope that they'd be willing to wait a little longer for her.
And she knew that they would do so.
