Not gonna lie, this is probably the one I'm the least proud of? Just because it's a little weird and based off a really dumb hc I made awhile ago.
Because apparently letting them be fluffy and baking cookies together was too easy I guess.
Day 2: Oven
A loud clanging sound pierced through the silence of the house, and she was awake in an instant. Her eyes snapped open and immediately began searching the still dark room for any signs of danger. A moment passed; nothing was unusual, nothing out of place. Nothing out to get her at all.
She let out a deep breath of relief she had been holding as her tense muscles loosened a bit. She could never be too careful. Just because the world had made great progress in recovering from despair didn't mean it was an entirely safe place yet. There was still ways to go before that happened.
Free of those fears for at least that moment, she gave another, more thorough look around the bedroom. Three things stood out to her almost immediately.
Firstly: The sound that had awoken her had come from further in the house. There was also a faint amount of light streaming in from the bottom of the door helping justify that conclusion.
Second: The bedroom was strangely warm for the beginning of December. It wasn't uncomfortable so, she actually found it quite cozy and comfortable, but it was strange. She hadn't left the heat on before going to bed. Accompanying it was a strangely sweet scent wafting into her nose.
And third, and perhaps the most notable: the space beside her was empty, and had been for quite awhile given how cold it was.
And strangely enough, that was the observation that answered most of her questions.
She moved to get up from the bed, pulling the covers off of her and letting them lay lopsided back on the bed. She opened the door and began moving down the hall, hand against the wall almost as a guide as she moved toward the source of the light from earlier. As she got closer both the heat and sweet smell both increased. A new sound hit her senses as well as she approached, rushing water. Her brow furrowed at that.
She rounded the corner and paused at the entrance to the kitchen. There she found Makoto, muttering under his breath and standing hunched over by the kitchen sink with his sleeve rolled up. He had his right arm stuck under the water, wincing as it ran over his skin. Beside him was a large metal tray with what looked to be freshly baked cookies on it—chocolate chip, likely from the dough he'd made the other day.. They looked very disorderly, as if they had been thrown around as they were pulled out.
Although, looking at his position again… perhaps they had been.
He didn't notice her, it seemed. "Makoto," she said, quiet, but still loud enough to be heard over the sink.
It worked. He jumped at the sound of her, obviously startled, then winced as the water hit his hand instead. "K-Kyouko! Uh…" he stammered. He shut the faucet off and quickly grabbed a towel to cover his arm. "Hi! Um… did I wake you? Sorry,"
She wordlessly walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, looking like he wanted to say something, but stopped when he saw her gaze fall toward his arm. Letting out a defeated sigh, he held it out for her to inspect. She gingerly took hold of it and pulled the towel off.
There was a large part of the underside of his forearm that had turned red. A minor burn by the looks of it. Nothing serious at least. He winced again at her touch as she grazed over it, biting down on his lip and looking away from it. She gave him an apologetic look and released his arm again.
"Are you ok?"
"Y-yeah," he scratched at his cheek and let out a nervous laugh. "The oven mitt slipped when I grabbed them, so I hit the oven door when I pulled them out. B-but it's just a little thing, so don't w-"
"You know that's not what I was asking you," she lightly interrupted him. His mouth snapped shut. "Makoto, it's three in the morning."
He looked away from her and shuffled awkwardly on his feet. "I… I mean, I was going to need to get it done soon for the holidays anyways," he glanced towards the tray still on the counter. "And I just happened to wake up, and I figured… why not?" His voice trailed off, making him sound just as nervous as he looked. She let out a quiet sigh through her nose.
The first killing game in Hope's Peak left them all scarred, damaged in a way they could never fully recover from. Even after the Future Foundation had picked them up didn't mean they felt safe. They'd all developed their own coping mechanisms following their escape, little things that helped remind them that they had really gotten out, that they weren't expected to kill one another, that escaping had been real.
Fukawa threw herself into her writing for an almost unhealthy amount of time in some cases, Hina tried to make herself useful for those around her while ignoring her own needs, even Togami lashed out and threw several coffee mugs when he thought no one was looking. Even she hadn't been immune, despite her job and past revolving around death. There were the rare moments when she was alone and suddenly the full weight of being the grounded, logical, emotional pillar of the group came crashing down on her, and she had to let it out in a way that must've been a shame to her family name.
Of all of them though, Makoto's had probably been the strangest. He'd taken up baking cookies of all things. They were never anything fancy, usually just something basic and easy, but they weren't too half bad. It had surprised just about everyone the first time, walking into the foundation for the day and leaving them for anyone that wanted them.
When questioned, he'd laughed nervously at her and admitted that it helped destress him because it reminded him of his mother and the life he used to live at home, warm family greetings and good times and all—something that felt so long ago now. Plus it helped him from feeling too restless if he started feeling too anxious, being something productive to do.
"Besides," he'd added with a laugh, "how can you be as stressed as before if you have a cookie?"
He hadn't done it in awhile, not since she'd been recovering following the final killing game, and that had been months ago. He only did it if he was really and truly stressed about something.
Doing it this late at night was new, though she had a feeling she knew what kind of issue had kept him awake.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she inquired, keeping her voice calm.
He looked back up at her with a pitiful, defeated expression. "I… n-no. Not right now," he muttered, then eyes widened as he threw his hands up and added "Not because I don't trust you or anything like that—I swear! I-I… I'd just rather focus on this first and… and calm down, I guess."
She nodded. "Ok. When you're ready." she said simply.
And so she did just that; she waited for him. After checking over his arm one more time, she let him continue on as he'd been, even helping him when he asked for it (he didn't trust himself with the oven mitts after the previous fiasco). They fell into their usual working routine in the kitchen with practiced ease; it was almost peaceful, in a strange way. Perhaps she would've enjoyed the moment more if it wasn't for the strange time and possible reason of keeping her significant other up.
About an hour passed before he was completely satisfied. She was pulling the last batch out when she heard him shuffle from behind her. He'd moved to sit on the floor, tucking his knees up towards his chest and hugging them tight. He'd grabbed one of the previously cooled cookies while she'd looked away, and offered her another as she moved to sit beside him. They sat for a few moments in silence as she allowed him to collect his thoughts, simply enjoying the fading heat still radiating from the oven.
He paused for a moment, frowning after he swallowed a bite. "I… it was just a couple of nightmares was all. A-and normally I can deal with them just fine but… I don't know. Something about this time was just… different, I guess. Maybe because it's been a while?" He looked away from her as he finished speaking.
She was silent for a moment. "Which ones were they?" she asked. Similar to her, he had a list of a few select nightmares that often haunted his sleep.
"I uh… I actually don't really remember the first one very well. It may have been the empty trash pit again? But I think I woke up earlier than usual in that one. But the other was…" His face scrunched up a bit as he squeezed his eyes shut. "The other was the video again. With you and all of the others that died at Hope's Peak telling me to-" His breath hitched and cut off his words. He buried his his face into his legs and tried not to shiver, even in spite of the warm kitchen.
She took hold of his free hand and squeezed it gently. She allowed the moment to pass, and soon enough he lifted his head to look at her again, eyes only looking slightly more watery than they had before.
"S-sorry, I just… I'm being stupid again, aren't I?" He rubbed at his eyes and sniffled a bit. He stared at the cookie still in his hand. "I just… couldn't think of anything else to do, so I…" he let his words die off.
"Having nightmares doesn't make you 'stupid', Makoto, and neither does trying to cope with them, even if your methods are a bit… unorthodox," she assured him, squeezing his hand again. "But you know, this isn't your only option to deal with them. You can always talk with me about it, no matter how small it is."
"But it's not fair to you if I do that every time they happen. I don't want to be a bother. I can usually handle them fine it's just… tonight was an exception was all." He looked at her with a wilted expression, and suddenly she could tell just how tired he looked. He'd been keeping this in for much longer than he normally would, an impressive feat given how usually transparent he seemed. Despite all the years they'd known each other, he still never seemed to get over that inadequate mindset of his.
She sighed. "Makoto, it doesn't bother me if you want to talk to me because you had a bad dream. It never bothered when you needed to after we escaped Hope's Peak, and it still doesn't bother me now. You know that already." she assured him. With a soft, wistful smile she added. "Take it from someone who's still dealing with the consequences of doing it: bottling everything up like this isn't healthy. And it certainly isn't like you to do so."
"I… I know it isn't. I just… It's something I need to work on, I guess." He let out a yawn. He finished the rest of his cookie in silence, then leaned his head on her shoulder, a wave of exhaustion suddenly washing over him. His lack of sleep had finally caught up with him it seemed. "Hey, Kiri?"
"Hm?" He must be tired if he reverted back to that nickname.
"Thanks for putting up with me," he muttered sleepily into her neck.
She smiled and leaned down to kiss his head. "Of course, Makoto." she whispered. As his breathing deepened, she added an equally as quiet. "I love you,"
He smiled.
