AN: I can't believe that all the requests I've gotten are for pairs I ship. There's a god after all, and his name is Makoto Naegi.

Also, hello, I am trash. This chapter is literally the longest one of any of my DR fics to date (at 5200+ words), and it's pretty much two-chaps-in-one, because 1) I like analyzing characters/relationships/motives and 2) I want cute misadventures with my otps. Whoops.

REQUESTED (by D on AO3)

Mukuro Ikusaba x Makoto Naegi

(Naekuro, Naegiku, Makomuku, IF OTP)

Confusion, Protection, and Hope?

(School days/pre-Mutual Killing)

Mukuro Ikusaba didn't know what was wrong with her.

Of course, being ignorant on such matters could be accounted for the fact that for years, she'd isolated herself from the normal world. She'd stayed in a mercenary group ever since she was young, having slipped away on a trip to Europe with her family.

She didn't know how to be normal. She didn't know how to act or to feel, to be compliant with societies' demands.

She didn't know how to interact with civilians, or how to stay with them, or how to blend in with them.

She didn't even know how to be in a foreign environment, surrounded by people—people that could kill her, if she let her guard down too much.

Her twin sister—Junko Enoshima, famous model—would call her useless over her pathetic confusion.

Why are you so useless, Mukuro-chan?

Why do you have to be so uncultured, Mukuro-chan?

Why don't you know how to be a normal person, Mukuro-chan?

But the fact of the matter was that Mukuro Ikusaba was having a hard time integrating herself back into society, as well as trying to sort out her own self.

She'd locked it all up, before. She was taught to do so, in the mercenary group—Fenrir, named after the mythological wolf. To lock emotion or attachments—because emotion can lead to recklessness, and recklessness can lead to your death—because only fools will let themselves get killed by such things.

So it should be no surprise that at some point, once she came back to normalcy in her homeland of Japan, she would be baffled, lost, and utterly confused by someone or something.

It should also be no surprise that such a thing would occur to her, at her time at Hope's Peak Academy, by one of her classmates.

It was only a matter of time, after all, before someone or something came along to completely change her own self or her outlook on life. It had happened with her young twin, then with the brave soldiers on television, then with the army recruiting officer, then with her commanding officer in Fenrir, then with Junko once again.

And now, another person came onto that list. Another person, who had changed how she felt or acted or was.

Another incredibly unexpected person to shine light upon Mukuro Ikusaba's dim, monochrome world.

Makoto Naegi. That was her new world-changer.

The first person to give her a genuine smile when she was in Hope's Peak, despite how distant or intimidating she was.

The first person to make her stomach jolt and her heart flutter and a great need to protect and cherish.

The first person—who was not family or a respected comrade—that made her care.

It was all terribly confusing and embarrassing for her.

In Fenrir, she was taught not to care. In her normal life before, she learned to only care for her younger sister, and for her parents.

It didn't help that Junko noticed the odd 'click' that Mukuro felt with the perfectly normal boy. It didn't help that she teased the Ultimate Soldier mercilessly because of it. It didn't help that Mukuro was sixteen, hormone-riddled, never had kissed a boy, never had a crush on a boy her age, and was emotionally-stunted and unsociable and literally didn't fit in.

Junko teased her about anything under the sun, but she enjoyed rubbing salt in her older sister's wounds when it came to issues that made dear beloved sister feel lost. The blonde-haired girl would tease Mukuro on liking someone so bland, on liking someone so passive, on not liking someone who fit her strict military person, on not liking someone who was outgoing, on liking the first boy who smiled at her like a stupid lovesick puppy, and so on.

Mukuro was just so conflicted on everything.

Why would Makoto Naegi ever like someone like her? Why would he be kind to an emotionless killer? Why would he like someone who was conditioned as a tool of war?

If one looked in a dictionary, they would find a picture of him under normal or average.

He was an atypically average highschooler. Apart from his ahoge, he could blend in perfectly with any crowd. He chatted and liked the most atypical of things. He always talked about the most mundane of topics. Even his somewhat odd choice of wearing a school jacket over a hoodie in his free time was bogged down to how completely average he was.

Yet—even with all her doubts—all of these things just couldn't seem to stop Mukuro from caring about him.

All her doubts couldn't stop her from constantly stealing glances or staring at him in class.

All of her doubts couldn't stop her from constantly wanting to speak or interact with him.

All her doubts couldn't stop her from constantly looking out for him.

All of her doubts couldn't stop her from constantly thinking of him, or thinking the most positive things about him.

It all simply boiled down to one thing for her: Mukuro Ikusaba didn't know what was wrong with her.

She would often curse herself and whatever forces led her to be some military-obsessed freak. If she wasn't—maybe, in another world, in an alternate universe, they would both just be average highschoolers that went to an average highschool and became normal friends.

But, since all of that was impossible to the nth degree, the soldier simply took it upon herself to make sure to always look after Makoto, to always save him from whatever hurt him—even if it was as mundane as a paper cut, or as serious as a murder attempt.

She divided her attention between naturally looking for threats, looking out for Junko—and now, she added looking out for Makoto Naegi to the short list of things she should put her attention towards.

This precious attention she gave him obviously showed to her little sister, who teased her even more cruelly and mercilessly about. It would also be obvious whenever her classmates decided to take pictures of the class—for memories, or whatever other reason they'd want to take countless photos of their school lives—because it would show in every single photo that she was looking out for Makoto and only looking at him.

But if she was obvious or not—well, no one ever brought it up, other than Junko-chan. And Makoto was certainly, blissfully, oblivious to it.

So perhaps hiding her emotions had its advantages after all, even if it crippled her from properly speaking or being close to the boy that garnered her attention and protection and care. Another wonderful plus, on top of Makoto's safety and Makoto's smile and Makoto's hope and Makoto's friendship.

And whenever her thoughts strayed to the positive, wonderful traits that Makoto held, it would make her stomach knot and her heart flutter time after time.

Still, she would berate herself in embarrassment. What if because she was caught up in her emotions, she wasn't able to protect him? He was overtly caring, overtly trusting, and surprisingly clumsy—and his normalcy wouldn't help him if he got caught up in the chaos that came from the surrounding talent and bad luck.

So, with that in mind…She'd allow herself to get closer to him. Maybe walk in the general location he was heading—not tailing or scouting or stalking, no, just happening to go the same way. That was normal, right? Not super creepy or weird, right?—or follow him with her eyes until she couldn't see him.

Maybe naturally learning where his favorite spots in the school were, and happening to be there. Maybe closely following him whenever he neared stairs, because he was clumsy enough to fall up or down them and hurt himself. Maybe asking him to help her study one subject or another.

Mukuro Ikusaba still didn't know what was wrong with her. She sounded almost as obsessed as Touko Fukawa towards Byakuya Togami.

No, it wasn't obsession. Mukuro just…wanted to keep him safe. Nothing wrong with that. And if she wanted to do that, she had to be cautious and watch him, and sometimes worry after him like a mother hen who's scared for her chicks.

Most of the time, her worrying paid off. Makoto, despite having gotten into Hope's Peak as the Ultimate Lucky Student, often times had the most horrid of luck.

Unlucky things often happened to him.

In class? He'd often get paper cuts—which Mukuro was always quick enough to offer a bandage, or sometimes have the foresight to stop him from gripping a paper a certain way or passing his finger over an edge. Whenever he worked with chemicals in Chemistry, the bunson burner or the flask would usually break or blow up—which Mukuro would pull him back, shield him, or offer to help him clean up. Things often fell off his desk by accident—which Mukuro would help pick them and hand them back to him. He also had a tendency of dropping his things or spilling his bag—which Mukuro would help catch or gather for him.

Outside class, while dealing with classmates? He was a peacemaker as well, so he often stupidly got in the middle of fights—which Mukuro would have to pull him back or block a wayward blow from knocking out the tiny boy. He would even chance with talking to the most scathing or hostile of the class—which Mukuro would just have to keep back and watch as the boy wilted with any verbal blows, then step in and save him the trouble of ending the conversation, if they got too bad.

Out and about in his normal business? Whenever he ran, one of his shoes—the right one. She remembers this very clearly, as it's always the same exact shoe—would either get its laces untied, or would fly off his foot completely. He was prone to tripping or falling at the most oddly unlucky of places or intervals. In these times, Mukuro would help catch him, retrieve his shoe, or checking to see if he'd injured himself.

Plus, he was definitely clumsy enough to fall up or down the stairs, as she noted. He often tripped up them whenever he was rushing to class, but those were just small scares.

No, the worst times where whenever he tripped down the stairs, because those times where the most terrifying, apart from whenever he got in the middle of violent fights.

A civilian could easily crack their neck when falling down a flight of stairs. They're not trained to duck and roll and twist and protect themselves from a fall. They're frail and fragile when they fall from large heights.

Especially the epitome of clumsy civilian normalcy, Makoto Naegi.

Mukuro would close her eyes and let the terrifying memories wash over her, if only to make her stronger and more vigilant. To remind her that despite not being on a battlefield, she still had to fight and protect someone…

One of those memories happened to have been recent. Just yesterday…

Yesterday, things were normal.

Actually, normal was whenever Makoto's bad luck didn't make something happen to him. Perhaps 1 in 4—or 1 in 5…Maybe 1 in 6—chance, was when something would happen.

Yesterday, things were normal in terms of Makoto's unlucky nature.

He'd woken up very late for breakfast—Mukuro had stayed, even at the threat of arriving late to class, conspicuously waiting for him to arrive to the Cafeteria—and inhaled a quick breakfast of eggs with toast. He then rushed to class, hoping to not be late, a piece of toast in his small mouth.

The soldier had followed him to class with quick, even strides, when the boy's shoe—the right shoe. Always the right shoe—flew off his foot. Towards Mukuro; which she managed to pluck out of the air with no complications.

The short boy looked down in surprise as his sock-clad foot hit the tile, then looked around frantically for his sneaker, muttering a loud 'Not again', the piece of toast in his hand. She stepped forward to hand it back to him, and he thanked her for catching it for him once again, giving a self-deprecating laugh.

He shoved the toast back in his mouth, then proceeding to hop on one foot whilst trying to quickly shove his shoe back in place. He almost overbalanced himself, but Mukuro caught his shoulder to steady him. He gave an embarrassed, mumbled 'thanks' around his toast.

The late bell then promptly rang, and Makoto made a noise that was half a groan of disappointment and half a whine of displeasure.

"I guess we're both late then, huh, Ikusaba-san?" he told her awkwardly, having just swallowed his toast. He scratched the back of his head, giving a sheepish smile at her.

"I suppose so," Mukuro noted, not caring for being late. She was glad that Makoto didn't hurt himself in some way—like choke on his toast.

She was only ever late whenever she looked out for Junko or Makoto anyways. Even then, she was rarely late to class.

"Oh man… Ishimaru-san's gonna give us a lecture over tardiness, though," Makoto commented worriedly as they both quickly walked the rest of the way to class.

"Our records are mostly spotless. It will be fine," Mukuro told him, trying to be comforting, but most likely sounding cold and emotionless. It caused him to grin gratefully up at her, however, so she considered the comment a success.

As expected, Ishimaru jumped out of his seat whenever he saw the pair enter the classroom late together. Makoto gave a sheepish apology towards the loud boy, and Mukuro only quietly made a comment of helping a classmate, before promptly making her way towards her desk.

Classes were going by without much trouble. Then P.E. class came along—pitting the class to playing a game of basketball. Mukuro essentially shielded Makoto from getting hurt too badly, despite being on opposite teams.

After the third time of Mukuro shielding Makoto from a very sharp jab to the gut, Mondo started yelling at her to stop helping the other team. To abate the biker's anger, as well as keeping Makoto away from any unfriendly crossfire, Mukuro simply took it upon herself to land as many baskets as possible from either half court or the completely other side of the court.

Mukuro managed to win the game for her team—which made Junko whoop and wrap an arm around her twin. Mondo also gruffly apologized for yelling at her, seeing as how she helped them win.

When Makoto came up to her and shyly asked her why she kept shielding him, her mind was in overdrive.

"You got the ball often, so it happened to look like I kept shielding you," she lied lamely, despite the fact that most of the time, he was only open to getting the ball. "You were also in the places where I liked taking shots."

Makoto thanked her anyways, even if she didn't happen to protect him from the roughness of the game on purpose. When he was heading to get changed, he got hit in the gut by the ball by Hagakure, who was shooting some extra hoops.

Mukuro cursed herself for not accounting on the ball still being out and being used by someone, even after the game ended. Makoto only waved off Hiro's languid apologies.

Then lunch came. Makoto managed to drop his tray on the Cafeteria floor. His friends at his table made sure he got some food, but when he left the room, Mukuro offered him a melon bread.

"I had an extra one," she lied. She'd actually saved it from her own lunch. Melon bread was a very basic, plain, and common bread from Japan. Mukuro always got one, as it gave her an odd sense of comfort to eat it.

"Ah…Thanks, Ikusaba-san," Makoto said gratefully, as he grabbed the offered packaged bread. She'd seen how he got rolls and bits of food and junk snacks from his friends—but that wasn't a proper lunch, much less for a teenage boy. And bread was filling, at least, so that should help him a bit.

"It's no problem," she told him. "You seem to be having an unlucky day."

He chuckled self-deprecating, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, sometimes I wonder why my title isn't Ultimate Unlucky Student," he noted, then promptly opened the package and gave a big bite into the bread.

Mukuro simply gave a nod, not trusting herself with making a normal comment or gesture—Was she supposed to chuckle with him? Agree or disagree with his statement? Start another subject? Honestly, Junko was always the one to talk to the others and be a social butterfly—and walked back to class. She noted, a bit happily, that he walked alongside her, eating the bread she gave him.

The final classes of the day passed. Mukuro kept her gaze firmly on the back of Makoto for the entirety of the subjects, not trusting his horrid luck from making something worse happen.

Nothing happened—his textbook didn't fall on his foot, he didn't trip when he stood up from his desk, his pen didn't explode whilst he was writing—and the bell rang.

Mukuro gathered her things quickly, and waited in her seat, watching as Makoto talked freely with his classmates. When he looked ready to leave class, Mukuro casually walked out the door behind him. She had noted—whilst happening to go in the same direction as him—that he had been talking to Maizono and Kuwata about needing to study for the upcoming Algebra test.

So he was either going to his room, or to the library. They were currently on the second floor—the Library would be closer. However, Makoto seemed to like heading to his room before he decided to go anywhere, like a creature of habit.

Mukuro's footsteps were silent as she followed Makoto down the hall—past the Library, towards the stairs. With a feeling of dread in her stomach—like a premonition of despair—Mukuro watched as Makoto neared the first step.

Then he tripped. He hadn't even stepped a foot on any step on the stairs, but he tripped right at the very top of the flight.

Mukuro felt her stomach drop, and her heart jolt to her throat.

With speed that was honed in Fenrir—speed that was used to escape from bullets or grenades, speed that was used to slaughter hundreds of men—Mukuro dove forwards.

Makoto flailed, his balance lost. He saw the dooming staircase in his eyes, saw how he was going to tumble down all those steps and probably snap a bone, or his neck.

But in that moment, an hand yanked on him—on his arm, which was stretched out to clutch on anything to help him from painfully falling down a long flight of stairs—and a pain sprouted on his shoulder from where he was yanked. However, that pain only bloomed for a split second.

The next thing he knew, an arm was wrapped around his midsection, and he was being hauled backwards, away from the menacing stairs. He felt a body pressed tightly behind him—an oddly curvy body.

And after that heart-pounding few seconds, the ahoge-haired boy realized who saved him.

His wide, terrified gaze looked up and behind him, to see none other than Mukuro Ikusaba looming over him.

Mukuro had thankfully gotten to him in time, the adrenaline and inhuman speed of hers letting her rush forwards and grab onto him. She'd quickly wrapped her other arm around his midsection—poised, her toes barely on the top step, at such an extreme angle forwards that if she hadn't had the reflexes or muscle conditioning that she had, then she would've toppled over as well—and wretched him backwards.

She took a few more steps backwards from the steps, just in case. She was able to easily haul the shorter boy, who felt incredibly light because of the energy coursing through her body.

Her body was wrapped tightly around his, and her breathing was a bit heavy—a mixture of fear, adrenaline, physical exertion, and just a flicker of despair.

She'd been terrified.

Makoto had never tripped at the top of a flight of stairs before. The only times he'd managed to trip down the stairs, it was always on the last few steps—where he would just stumble, and grab onto the railing quickly. Sometimes he'd just end on one knee awkwardly at the bottom of the flight, his things spread across the floor.

Those times, her heart would skip a beat; but everything would turn out okay. A small tumble, dropping his things—it was fine.

No, but this had been far worse. Far more despairing.

"I-Ikusaba-san?" Makoto asked breathlessly, his voice squeaking. His heart was pounding too quickly in his chest—from fear, obviously.

Nope, not because a girl was pressed flush against his back, and he could feel how soft her boo—how she was.

Nope, nope, nope. Definitely fear. Fear was the priority here. Fear was what coursed through him. Fear, not embarrassing things.

Fear is what made him feel hot, too. Just a good ol' terrifying near-death experience to make you feel like you're about to burst into flames, right? Ahaha…

Mukuro felt the boy stiffen in her awkward kind-of-but-not-really embrace. His head was turned back towards her, despite how close their bodies were—and he was red in the face.

Oh.

…Oh.

Now that the adrenaline was bleeding out of her system, the soldier noted how…Awkward a position they were both in.

She'd wrapped her body tightly around his, to make sure her grip on his arm had not hurt him, or slipped. And, as an extra protective measure as well. She'd been precariously perched when catching him—so in case she fell whilst trying to grab onto him, she could use the tight hold on him to twist around and use her body to cushion his fall.

In complete embarrassment now, Mukuro quickly unwrapped her arms around his midsection, and practically wrenched herself from Makoto's body.

Sadly, she felt colder now—Makoto's body was warm and soft. Not to mention that his body was smaller than hers, and she found it really nice to wrap her taller frame around his—

Nope, nope, nope. Just colder from simple body heat.

She felt colder, but at the same time felt warmer. Embarrassment from his embarrassment—because she was emotionally stunted and abnormal, so he would be the one who knew how to react and what was normal, right?

She wasn't warm in mortification because she was thinking of their bodies wrapped together. Nope. Not at all. Just awkwardness from not understanding emotions and situations and such.

That was it. That had to be it.

'Well, this is awkward,' the two teens thought in unison. They simply stood nervously in front of one another, the silence heavy and awkward enough that you could cut it with knife.

Makoto coughed into his hand, then tried clearing his very dry throat. "Um…Er…Th-Thanks, I-Ikusaba-san…" he mumbled, looking at a point over her shoulder, afraid of making eye contact with the girl.

There was a pregnant pause, before Mukuro pushed herself to say something, anything, to make this situation less mortifying.

"Ah…I-It was no problem, M—"she stopped herself from saying his first name, as it was how she thought of him in her mind, which was inappropriate to do in-person. "Naegi-kun."

The two just stood there, Makoto scratching the back of his head, and Mukuro absentmindedly fiddling with her bag's strap. The silence became thick, once more.

"Um—I-I really do appreciate it, you know," Makoto spoke up again, tentatively. After steeling his reserve, he looked up and squarely made eye contact with the usually emotionless girl. "For saving me. I-I thought I was going to fall and break my neck, but you..."

Once their eyes had met, Mukuro lost herself in those kind, soft eyes of his. They say eyes were the windows of the soul—a saying that Mukuro found true, as either twitching or someone's eyes gave away an enemies' intentions on the battlefield—and Makoto was currently embodying that statement.

Sincerity. Relief. Thankful. Grateful. Lingering fear, from his fearful experience.

And…Kindness. Hope. Camaraderie—or perhaps, what's considered friendship? There was even fondness.

His eyes spoke more volumes than his grateful thanks—and even his thanks was like honey to her soul, so his eyes were like the sweetest of chocolates.

Mukuro Ikusaba didn't know what was wrong with her. She was daydreaming about him right in his face—and she felt her heart flutter once more, because of him.

"My body acted on instinct," Ikusaba-san finally answered him, and Makoto let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"And…I didn't want to see you get hurt," she added, more quietly.

This surprised both teens. To Makoto, that she actually cared for him so much. To Mukuro, that she actually said that aloud to him.

Mukuro started to frantically berate herself in her mind for letting such an important thing slip.

But at that moment, Makoto seemed to glow.

"Thank you," he told her, completely heartfelt. He gave her one of his soft, wonderful smiles—the ones that were so hopeful, so pure, so sincere, so true—a smile akin to the one he gave her that fateful first day.

A smile like the first smile she received in her new life at Hope's Peak Academy.

The smile that made him one of her world-changers, and one of the people she swore to protect.

"Ah…" Makoto trailed off, after giving this thanks, and seeing Ikusaba-san soften considerably.

"Is it okay…If I call you Mukuro now?" he asked slowly, tentatively. He didn't want to rush her— but she really did look out for him quite a bit, and she felt like a close friend to him.

She blinked, her eyes wide, a look of shock on her face. He found it cute—it was rare to see such an expression on the soldier's face.

But then she nodded, her face morphing back to something more neutral. However, it seemed…softer, than her usual blank-slate expression.

"If…I can call you Makoto," Mukuro told him, having gotten over the shock of him wanting to be on first-name basis with her.

After all…Why would Makoto Naegi ever like someone like her? Why would he be kind to an emotionless killer? Why would he like someone who was conditioned as a tool of war?

However, Mukuro batted those thoughts away. He'd asked her—a sign that he really wanted to be close to her. A sign that he didn't care about how she was.

It's all Mukuro could have ever dreamed of.

Makoto blinked, tilting his head slightly, akin to a wide-eyed puppy. A blush was on his cheeks, and she knew that a light one was most likely on hers as well.

"Ah—Well, I guess that's only fair, right?" Makoto said slowly, a small smile on his face, as he gave an awkward laugh.

"Right," she repeated back at him.

He nodded his head. "Right," he started, his voice determined. "…Mukuro-san."

The name hung in the air for a bit, whilst the duo took in how it sounded.

They both decided that they liked it.

Mukuro tried to think of what to say next. She had to find a normal comment, and implement saying Makoto's name, right?

She mulled it over, before saying something. "Be careful next time…Makoto-san," she said slowly, feeling the nerves leave her after finally saying it aloud.

Once again, the name hung in the air; once again, the duo decided that they liked how it sounded.

They grinned at one another—Makoto's being much brighter and larger and more hopeful, of course— the silence between them comfortable.

But then, the silence was broken—by an odd laughter and cooing noises.

"Upupu...Puhuhu…So cuuuute!" came a dreadfully familiar voice, not that far away from the duo.

Mukuro felt her stomach drop to her toes. Makoto felt an odd dread welling in his gut.

As one, they turned to look at an incredibly amused Junko—both blushing at having been caught having a, well, 'intimate' moment.

"Good job big sis—you managed to trip an event flag! Now you've managed to progress down the Makoto Route," Junko said cheekily, grin widening at making them both look awkward as hell.

"Now kiddies—I'm going to have to hope that you don't do anything that you'd find in the R-18 section of this dating sim. Upupupu," Junko giggled, as the two gaped at her, faces an identical shade of tomato-red

Makoto stuttered and spluttered, and Mukuro squeaked a harried "Junko", whilst the Ultimate Fashionista burst into hysterical laughter.

"Oh, I wish I had a video camera for this!" Junko exclaimed with cute, childish glee. "Big sis Muku-chan's finally gwowing up! Yatta!"

"However—I suppose telling Sayaka-chan and Leon will suffice," she decreed, sounding queenly. "It shall spread like wildfire, and I am sure that many a classmate will be there to congratulate you on your leveling-up in name-basis status, hmmmm?"

The duo were rooted on the spot, and could only watch Junko charge down the stairs, yelling "GUESS WHO I GOT DIRT ON, MOTHERFUCKERS?!" on the top of her lungs, giving metal screams all the while. She was most likely heading to spill the beans on their situation to their classmates.

Mukuro and Makoto's faces drained of color once the blonde was out of sight, their faces resembling chalk.

…Mukuro Ikusaba didn't know what was wrong with her. She actually had felt happy and proud that her twin thought that her and Makoto were a couple.

Even though the feeling only lasted a few seconds.

Even though it was impossible, and Makoto would never think of her like that.

Even though her sister was teasing them, and was now going to screw them over by burying them sky-high in rumors.

Even though all she had wanted to do was to protect the first person who smiled genuinely at her…right?

"We should do some damage control," Mukuro told the shorter boy, her voice strained.

"Y-Yeah. Sounds like a plan," Makoto noted wearily, as the dread started to slowly leak out of his gut from having Mukuro besides him on this.

…They were together. Together, to face what came at them.

Mukuro Ikusaba and Makoto Naegi…

It had a nice ring to it.

As Mukuro thought back to just a few hours prior—in the very wee hours, just when the sun was rising—she found that everything was worth it.

The fear, the despair, the worry, the time, the energy, the attention, the teasing, the troubles…

Makoto was worth it.