Makoto stood on a chair, balancing unsteadily on his tiptoes as he struggled to free a book from the shelf. It had been wedged into the top row and nothing he did seemed to loosen it; the fact that he was too short to properly reach the shelf wasn't helping matters.

The book suddenly slid free. Makoto lost his balance; he put his right leg back to regain his footing and found nothing but air. He tumbled backwards, a surprised shout escaping his lips as he fell.

A pair of arms broke his fall, catching him before he hit the ground. Disoriented, Makoto blinked owlishly at his savior.

Mukuro Ikusaba stared down at him, one eyebrow raised. "Are you okay?"

Makoto blushed as he realized that Mukuro was currently holding him in a bridal carry. He flailed, waving his arms frantically. "Y-yeah! I'm fine! T-thank you!"

Mukuro put him down, her expression unreadable. "With your track record do you really think standing on a rickety chair is a good idea?"

Makoto smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "I know. Mr. Kirigiri asked me to get it for him, and I uh…" He paused, dropping his gaze. "I didn't want to explain that I was too short to reach it."

Mukuro rolled her eyes. "Geez, Makoto. You know you could have just asked me. You can't help it if you're vertically challenged." She smiled, punching him lightly on the arm.

Makoto did his best to ignore how his heart doubled its tempo when she said his name. "I'm sorry. You're right!"

[Two Days Later]

Makoto sat down on the floor of the gym, stretching before his run. He'd been trying to be more physically active over the past few weeks, and was quite pleased with the results; he could actually run a kilometer without his heart threatening to explode in protest.

He climbed to his feet, rolling his shoulders before taking off at a jog. It was raining today, so he would have to exercise inside the gym instead of on the track as was his custom. He raised his hand in greeting as he passed Mondo and Kiyotaka; they were too absorbed in their game of basketball to acknowledge his greeting.

Makoto quickly fell into a rhythm, matching his breathing with the tempo of his feet on the wooden floor. Despite the agony that had been his first few attempts at exercise, Makoto had discovered that running was almost like meditation. It was easy to let his mind wander when he ran, his thoughts roaming freely as his body ran on autopilot.

It didn't take long for his mind to find its way back to its favorite topic: Mukuro Ikusaba. She'd been a cornerstone in his life ever since he'd come to Hope's Peak Academy one year ago. The others were nice, of course, but he had fallen into an easy camaraderie with Mukuro during orientation and they'd been friends ever since. She didn't seem to care that he was only here by chance.

Whenever his workload got too tough, she would give him a hand. She had a way of explaining things in a way that clicked in Makoto's brain immediately. Color rose to his face as he remembered her leaning in and pointing out a line of poetry in their textbook. She'd been trying to explain the poet's use of alliteration, but he'd been distracted by the scent of lilac soap and the feeling of her hip against his.

In retrospect, maybe it was luck that he'd been able to learn anything academic from their study sessions.

"Hey, watch the fuck out!"

Mondo's warning cry jolted Makoto out of his reverie, but there was no time for him to react to the basketball rushing towards his head. He clenched his eyes shut, bracing for the blow.

There was a loud thump. Realizing that he hadn't been hit by the ball, Makoto opened his eyes in time to see that he was about to collide with the object of his reverie.

He hit her running full speed and they fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs, sliding to a stop several feet from their impact point. Makoto scrambled to his feet, his face the color of a tomato and stammering a stream of apologies. "Oh my god, Mukuro, are you okay!?"

Not making any move to get up, Mukuro started laughing. She clutched her sides, rolling onto her back as she giggled. "T-that's my l-line," she gasped, tears of mirth rolling down her face.

Makoto's concerned words died on his lips as her laughter infected him. He smiled. Then grinned. Then he started laughing too, doubling over.

A hand grabbed a fistful of his shirt, yanking him up to eye level with Mondo Owada. "What the fuck!?" Mondo yelled, jabbing his finger towards the ceiling. Makoto looked to where he was pointing and realized he could see the basketball lodged in the rafters. "Your girlfriend lost the only basketball that was worth a fuck! What are we gonna do now!?"

Makoto's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. "G-girlfriend? What?" he said dumbly, waving his arms in panic.

Mukuro was suddenly between them; her fingers twisted in the collar of Mondo's shirt, pulling him down to her eye level. "Let him go before I kick a couple more balls into the rafters."

Mondo glared down at her, but released his grip on Makoto nonetheless. "Seriously, though. What the fuck?" he gestured lamely at the ceiling.

Mukuro shrugged. "There's a ladder in the shed. A real man can take care of his own balls when he needs to." She turned to Makoto. "Sorry about that. Want to go grab lunch?"

[One Week Later]

Makoto sprawled on the couch, a magazine in his hands and earbuds in his ears. The last week had been unbelievably stressful. He'd had five exams to prepare for and two essays to write. He'd just finished the essay for his history class and now was as good a time as any to relax. Everything else could wait for a few hours.

The door to the lounge opened and Makoto looked up from his magazine to see Mukuro entering. He paused the song he was listening to and sat up, pulling out his earbuds. He set his phone on the coffee-table, not noticing when his headphones came unplugged. He smiled, waving at the dark-haired girl. "Hey, Mukuro, wha-"

Mukuro glared at him, marching over to where he sat on the couch. "Okay, Makoto, spill it. Why have you been avoiding me for the past week?"

Makoto's heart skipped a beat. Crap. He had been avoiding her, but he hadn't realized it had been so obvious. Something had changed during the past few weeks; whenever they tried to study together, Makoto could focus on nothing but her. The way she chewed on the eraser of her pencil while she thought about a question. The way she mouthed the words when she was reading silently. The way she spoke. The way she breathed. The way she was.

So he'd made excuses like he was sick or he was too tired to study so he could study for his exams in peace. He'd thought she'd bought his lies, but apparently not…

"Um… What do you mean?"

Mukuro jabbed his chest with her finger. "Don't play dumb! You've been dodging me at every turn for the past week. And I haven't even seen you for two days!" Makoto was surprised to see that her eyes were red and puffy. Had she been crying? "What is it? Do you not like me anymore? Are we not friends?"

Makoto's mouth was dry. "No, Mukuro, that's not it!" He reached out, touching her on the shoulder. "I just haven't been feeling well…"

"Bullshit!" Mukuro shouted, her fingers curling into fists. "Just tell me the truth, Makoto! Please!"

Makoto licked his lips and swallowed. He took a deep breath to steady himself. How was he supposed to explain that she distracted him in all the right ways? "The truth is-" That was when he lost his balance. Thinking back on it later, even Makoto couldn't explain what had caused him to fall.

He fell back, his hand shooting out to catch something. It found the coffee table, and with it, his phone. The tip of his pinkie pressed the play button, and the last few words of "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me" blared in the sudden silence.

…I'm in love with you.

Makoto froze, staring at Mukuro like a deer caught in the headlights. Her eyes were wide, and her face had turned a brilliant shade of red. There was a drawn out silence. It was finally broken when she spoke.

"Are you?" Mukuro asked, dropping her gaze to the floor.

Makoto's whole body was paralyzed. He couldn't move.

After several moments of silence had passed, Mukuro's shoulders slumped and she turned to walk away. "I'm sorry. I should go…"

He was terrified, but Makoto knew that he had to do something. He took a hasty step forward and grabbed her by the shoulder, spinning her around to face him. His heart threatened to explode as he stood on his tiptoes and pressed his lips against hers.

When he pulled away a few seconds later, Mukuro was staring at him, dazed.

"I am."