Aoi Asahina had been on a video call with Kyoko Kirigiri for over an hour. The call started at 9:32 at night, and it was now 10:36 p.m.

In the course of those 57 minutes, Kyoko had detailed most of the Fourteenth Branch's current initiatives. She'd provided brief updates on how Byakuya Togami and Yasuhiro Hagakure were doing. She'd circled back to the topic of the Ultimate Elite Task Force — a special assault team made up of former Hope's Peak students — multiple times, calmly complaining about having to board them for the past two weeks while taking them to various hot spots. The task force would go in to eliminate threats, and the Fourteenth Branch was expected to perform cleanup with a smile and a positive message for the public.

Hina had also gotten a chance to talk about what she was doing at the Thirteenth Branch lately... but Hina wasn't the one who initiated the call. And it was unusual for Kyoko to pick up the phone first. The fact that she did so immediately made Hina concerned.

Let it never be said that Aoi Asahina hadn't learned anything from all the time she'd spent with Kyoko Kirigiri. Using some of the observational skills she'd gleaned from her friend, Hina had identified two possible drivers behind Kyoko's call by the time they'd reached the 64-minute mark of their conversation. Those two drivers were: A) the one topic Kyoko had repeatedly veered back to, and B) the most obvious topic that she'd not brought up at all.

"What are these 'elite task force' people like, anyway?" Hina asked her friend. "What makes them so annoying, I mean?" There was a long pause as Kyoko closed her eyes in thought. Hina bit her lower lip, well aware that Kyoko was about to say something important.

After a deep sigh and a slow exhale, Kyoko finally spoke up. "Her name is Yoko Watanabe."


Makoto Naegi's personal quarters on the ship belonging to the Fourteenth branch was awash in a warm yellow light provided by a couple of pole lamps placed diagonally across from one another. One of them was next to his bed, which Makoto typically found to be the perfect place to read his manga.

At the moment, though, he was on his knees in front of the bookshelf down by the foot of his bed, searching for a particular series. He was wearing his button-down shirt and slacks that the Future Foundation issued, but the jacket and tie were thrown over a nearby desk chair. His bed was occupied by Yoko Watanabe, who was lying on her stomach with her feet in the air and her head resting in her left hand. Her right hand was playing with the side-ponytail she sported in her gray-blonde hair, and her peach-colored eyes were watching the ahoge atop Makoto's head with amusement.

"I can't believe you've never read it," Makoto said, shaking his head as he examined the spines of his books intently.

Yoko shrugged, flashing a muted smile towards the bobbing bit of hair she was eyeing. "Didn't read a ton of manga as a kid," she offered in her husky voice. "Kinda busy 'honing my craft,' if you get me." She pushed off of the bed and swung her legs around, sitting up on her haunches. "Actually did read some of Sukeban Deka, though!" she said with a smile.

Makoto looked up at her with a lopsided smile. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me," he teased. "I bet Saki was like, the role model for your life or something."

Still kneeling, Yoko put her hands on her hips and raised her head up in pride. "Not many people can say they became a real-life yo-yo cop," she said in a mock-boastful tone. She shrank back, suddenly embarrassed of her performance, and looked away as she muttered, "Wasn't aiming to do that, mind you, but can't complain... "

He couldn't help but grin at her as she blushed shyly. "That sounds like plenty of reason to be proud to me," Makoto assured her, tossing her a sideways look. "Were you 'aiming' to attend Hope's Peak, though?"

Yoko's eyes shifted upwards as she thought on that. "Mmm... eventually," she said. "Not as a little girl or anything, though. Didn't even know I could shoot for being an 'Ultimate Yo-yoer' 'til middle school."

"A-ha!" Makoto cried triumphantly. He pulled three volumes out of his shelf in a single pull, producing a small stack of books. "I want you to borrow, like, the first three volumes." He paused for a second, then put one of them back on the shelf. "Maybe three is a little intense. Better stick to two," he muttered. He flipped open the first volume, and turned a few pages, smiling at the image of a spiky-haired boy in a headband. "Chousoku Spinner is the definitive yo-yo manga!" Makoto declared, beaming at the page.

At the sound of Yoko's throat clearing, Makoto looked up to find that Yoko was making her red yo-yo appear to jump rope — slinging and a loose string around one another in one direction, then making both reverse and slip into a pattern in the opposite direction. "It's a Yuuki Slack," she informed him of the trick. With a flashy grin, she added, "See? Didn't need to read Chousoku Spinner — lived it instead!"

She laughed at her own cheekiness, as did Makoto while he stood up. "Heh, I see your point!" he acknowledged. "But, although you maybe a little old for it now — will you give it a try anyway?" He extended the books in his hand towards her.

Yoko stopped fiddling with her yo-yo and let it drop to the mattress below. Looking up at him, she locked her eyes with his. "For you?" she said quietly, "Damn right I will."


"Arrrgh!" Hina growled. She had both hands on the collar of her Future Foundation jacket and was popping it up as she gritted her teeth. "That little-! She must've like... seduced Naegi with some kind of... yo-yo hypnotism!"

Kyoko smiled. "Thank you for your fury on my behalf, but in truth, I'm not angry at Watanabe-san," she said, waving one hand dismissively. "She's a perfectly friendly young woman. She was part of Hope's Peak's 75th graduating class, and I suspect she developed something of a crush on Naegi-kun during the broadcast of our incarceration. It's perfectly understandable."

"But still! She's flaunting Naegi around right in front of you?!" Hina demanded, still sounding offended on Kyoko's behalf.

"I think you misunderstood me," Kyoko replied. "I don't have any solid evidence that they're an established romantic couple."

Hina's eyes and nose scrunched up. "Huh?! But from what you just said-"

Kyoko interrupted her to explain: "I've studied enough body language to know when two people are in a relationship, when they're in love, or when someone is consumed by infatuation for another. They're giving off all the right signals; I just don't have any verbal confirmation." Kyoko's eyes drifted downwards. "It's not wise to make assumptions, regardless of evidence. And honestly, even if they are a couple, I have no right to complain." She averted her gaze, looking away from the video screen. "It's not like I made any overtures towards him."

Hina frowned in concern. "Kyoko... don't do that, " she pleaded, her voice tinged with affection. "This isn't your fault."

Kyoko shook her head rapidly, placing her right gloved hand upon her forehead. "I'm not saying it's someone's fault," she stated. "I'm just deeply disappointed in myself," she admitted, looking ashamed. "Not because things turned out this way... or are turning out this way... but because I'm acting like a child about it." Her hand slid down her face, finally covering her mouth. "When the thought of pursuing a relationship with him would cross my mind or when you would raise the possibility to me, I always thought it a misguided hope. I overanalyzed things — deciding that I shouldn't risk our current bond, or that it wasn't the right time, or that it would be inappropriate given our positions within the Foundation — and returned my focus to my work. I have no right to feel like Naegi-kun was... somehow... " she mumbled, trailing off.

Hina's brow furrowed on the monitor. "...yours?" she finished for her friend.

Kyoko's eyes narrowed, small wrinkles appearing at their sides. She looked away from the screen once more, saying nothing in response.

Hina's own eyes cast downward. "I suppose I felt that way, too," she admitted. "I mean, I did think you guys somehow... " Hina cut herself off, her large blue eyes looking up wistfully. "You work so great together, and you act so... inseparable," she said. Looking back at Kyoko, she went on, "I guess that's why I always pushed you about it," she accepted. "It seemed natural, y'know? But it's not like it ever had to become a real thing. In the end, all I really wanted was for you two to be happy... whatever that means."

Kyoko lowered the hand from her mouth and leaned forward, propping her elbow up on the desk. She rested her chin atop the hand and smiled once more. "Well, I certainly hope Watanabe-san gives him that," she said softly. Hina almost thought she could see a glisten in the corners of Kyoko's eyes. "In the end, he deserves whatever joy he gets. And he surely deserves someone who wouldn't be weighed down by personal doubts. Someone who won't hesitate to do everything in their power to give it to him." She nodded to herself. "Yes," she said firmly.

"Y'know, it's not like this girl is his wife or something," Hina said cheerfully. "She's just one more obstacle! I mean, maybe now is the time!" She raised both fists in front of her face in in determination. "You don't even know for sure if they're together yet, so if you're finally ready to deal with your own feelings, don't wait any longer! Just tell him already!"

Kyoko struggled to keep her eyes from rolling into the back of her head. "And then I get to look utterly selfish — the definitive example of mimetic desire. Naegi-kun winds up trapped in the middle of his old friend and his new lover, and-"

"Ew," Hina said reflexively.

"AND," Kyoko continued with increasing volume, "By virtue of such an action, my feelings would become forever suspect. Anyone could rightly question whether my feelings were genuine, imitative, or merely fueled by jealousy." As she finished that sentence, Kyoko scowled. "No, thank you," she said in conclusion.

Hina pursed her lips. "Isn't this just you 'overanalyzing' again?" she grumbled.

The remark actually gave Kyoko pause. She raised a finger to her lips in thought. "Possibly... " she admitted, under her breath. Letting out a huff of air, Kyoko let her eyelids droop to half-closed. She mumbled something to herself.

"What?" Hina asked "What was that?"

"I said 'I'm not any good at this,'" Kyoko repeated, looking sullen. "It's a bit ironic — in the modern sense of the word. Consider all that time I've spent learning to read body language signals and meaningful terms or phrases that can give away the feelings of others. I can clearly read when two people are romantically or desire to be involved, regardless of whether they're right beside one or another or standing on opposite ends of a room. But when it comes time for me to understand my own desires and feelings, I remain a rank amateur. I can't even tell if the other party is interested in me, let alone feel certain about my own actions."

"That just means you're more normal than you realized," Hina said sympathetically. With a concerned expression, Hina told her, "Just don't wait too long, okay? It's still super dangerous out in this messed-up world... I don't want you to... " She gave a shake of her head, trailing off with a "Y'know."

Kyoko stared at her friend silently for a long moment. At last, Kyoko said, "I'm sorry."

On the other side of the screen, Hina's face tightened up in confusion once more. "For what?" she asked.

"For acting so thoughtlessly towards you," Kyoko stated. "I've been so wrapped up in my selfish emotions that I failed to appreciate how I must sound to someone who's... " Kyoko's eyes moved around the room as she sought the proper words. "Someone who's suffered a much more permanent loss in a similar vein."

Hina reached up and rubbed the side of her head with her right hand. "I... I didn't mean to be talking about that," she insisted awkwardly. She barely managed to get one half of her mouth to curl into a phony smile. "You wanna talk about having 'no right to complain'? I didn't understand what I was feeling back then. I wasn't even capable of telling her."

"I don't think that diminishes the loss you experienced," Kyoko told her. "If anything, I think that would make it worse."

Asahina's face appeared to grow flush, and her eyes appeared glassy on the screen. She looked away at an angle, sounding hoarse when she said, "It's still kinda hard to talk about it. Just promise you won't be like me, all right?"

"Unfortunately, I don't think I'm capable of being like you," Kyoko said, granting her friend a kind smile.

"You know what I mean," Hina groaned, cracking a smile right back in spite of the lump in her throat. "I just mean that I don't want you to, like, avoid dealing with this stuff until it's too late."

Kyoko folded her arms, looking serious once more. "I understand what you're trying to say," she assured her friend. "But 'too late' doesn't just come in one form. That's why there's no way to be certain whether it's ahead of you or behind you."


Makoto Naegi and Yoko Watanabe stepped out from the elevator and onto the fourth deck up from the hold. The hallway was white and nicely lit by circular lamps along the walls, adding a bit of ambience as they strolled. Makoto had put his Future Foundation coat and tie back on now that he was once again visible to the rest of the branch, but no one was around to see the pair anyway.

"So that makes it nearly two weeks now," Makoto said, continuing the conversation they'd begun within. "And Kirigiri-san has barely said a word to me outside of an official branch meeting."

Yoko looked lost in thought. "Two weeks, huh?" she repeated, sounding absent-minded.

Makoto hummed a muted "Mmm-hmm." Dejectedly, he continued, "It all started when she cancelled our usual breakfast together one morning. It happened again, then again, and then, suddenly, she couldn't have breakfast with me at all anymore. I tried to push to lunch, but she said things were still too busy for 'socializing.' And of course, I believed her. Or at least... I believed her at first."

He looked over to Yoko to find that she was looking directly over at him in return, listening intently. He gave her a quick, grateful smile before he continued: "The thing is, for most of the past week, we've been stuck at sea. I seriously doubt she has enough paperwork and bureaucracy to keep her completely booked for all that time without any landfall events to report." He set his jaw and looked down the hall towards nothing in particular, albeit with a clear sense of determination. "No. Something's wrong with her, and she's not the type to talk until she's ready. I just have to decide if I'm going to wait her out, or try to find out what it is."

Yoko smiled back at him gently. "Branch leaders have been in-fighting a lot," she noted. "Maybe spending her time trying to play peacemaker."

"I suppose," Makoto said doubtfully. "But if that's all it was, she would've told me."

Yoko reached over and grabbed Makoto's hand as she walked, causing him to blush at her slightly. "Kirigiri-san is really important to you, isn't she?" she asked.

"Of course," he told her with a smile. "Kiri is more than just a mentor to me... she's my best friend. Probably the closest friend I've ever had." Looking back up and into the distance of the corridor, he shook his head. "No, not 'probably.' Definitely. The people I knew in middle school or earlier were all casual friends. Those of us who survived that hell at Hope's Peak? We have a unique bond. And Kirigiri-san and I were tighter with each other than any of the other survivors were."

Yoko held her breath for a moment, squeezing Makoto's hand before asking, "Did you guys ever... ah, consider dating?"

Makoto stopped in his tracks and looked over at her. When Yoko felt his hand slip away, she realized he'd stopped moving and was now behind her. Naturally, she paused too, then stepped back and looked him squarely in the eyes.

His head sagged a bit as he looked down, avoiding Yoko's eyes. "Okay, you're right. I'm not going to deny it. It definitely was something on my mind for awhile after we got out of Hope's Peak. It seemed like we had... " Makoto stopped and raised his head, looking to the side. "I used to believe we had some, um, additional potential," he said.

"Additional potential,'" Yoko repeated under her breath sourly, attempting to fight back a frown.

Makoto turned his head back to her and met her gaze, his expression serious. "Of course I will always treasure the friendship I have with her, but I no longer idealize her. I understand that we're good friends and could never be anything else. We're like... a square peg and a round hole."

She seemed to consider this for a bit. "She is a lot more emotionally withdrawn than you are," she noted, sounding mildly encouraged.

"Exactly," Makoto agreed. "Kirigiri-san is an amazing person. But like, as a couple? We'd be... incompatible."

Yoko rubbed her cheek, pondering this. "But did you ever actually make a move on her?" she finally inquired.

Makoto blanched at that. "Do what now?"

"My experience: Guys don't easily get over things they never actually went after," she mused. She let herself smile at him a little after that. A wry, sad smile. "So: Anything left unsaid?"

He thought for a moment, then spoke carefully: "I... made it clear what I wanted... quite a while back. What I thought I wanted, at any rate."

Yoko squinted slightly. "She... she rejected you?" she asked, uncertain.

"Come on," he said, looking at his feet. "You sound like you think that's somehow a weird reaction." He grinned at her and shook his head. "I promise you: She's far from the first." She didn't seem to hear him, or maybe she just wasn't focused on the exact words. Instead, Yoko appeared to look past him as she bit into the thumbnail on her right hand. Pushing off the wall behind him, Makoto stepped forward. "Bottom line? I considered it, yes. I was interested, and she wasn't," he said with a half-shrug. "Even so, she's an important part of my life."

Yoko gave a small bob of her head as acknowledgement. She pulled her hand away from her mouth. "I get that," she said back. With a tilt of her head, she explained, "Consider the background noise of my life, though, would ya? Tabloids are always speculating on the love lives of you, Kirigiri-san, and all of your fellow survivors."

Makoto sighed. "I know... " he said softly, sounding exasperated. "There's always some dumb speculation that we're dating each other or hooking up or having wild parties on the ship or god-knows-what. Most of us have learned to ignore the speculation and the 'shippers', although I'm pretty sure Fukawa-san still pays attention."

"Ugh. Poor girl," Yoko said with a laugh. Then, she took another step towards him. Given the lack of space in the hallway, Makoto instinctively backed up. That, in turn, just made Yoko's smile grow more. She twisted her finger into her ponytail, winding the hair around it as she said, "So look: I really, seriously like you."

In an instant, Makoto Naegi felt his face flush. "I-I like you too, Watanabe-san," he managed to stammer.

She bit her lip and locked her bright eyes on his, squinting a bit. "Look, maybe you're ready to try and date somebody, and maybe not. Maybe you're still getting over Kirigiri-san, and maybe not. But if there's even a chance that you'd be willing to... " She trailed off and paused, glancing away and swallowing before she continued: "If there's a chance that you'd be willing to take a chance, then I'd really like to be... more than your friend."

Makoto was bright red and looking at her with wide eyes, his mouth ajar. That was when she pounced - lunging forward and wrapping both around his neck, kissing him deeply. She pressed her lips hard against his, but the act only dumbfounded Makoto further, causing his eyes to nearly bulge from their sockets.

He hadn't yet retrieved the presence of mind to close his eyes before she broke off and grinned up at him. "Consider that food for thought," Yoko whispered. She then swiftly pivoted and headed down the hall alone, humming as she sauntered her way down and around the corner, out of sight.

Slowly, Makoto turned away and moved back towards the elevator. Shaking his head, he touched two fingers to his lips gingerly and mumbled "Oh man... I'm really not any good at this... "


Being the head of an entire branch has its advantages. For one thing, the job came with the keys to every room within the branch's jurisdiction.

That meant that Kyoko Kirigiri had the keys to every area of the Fourteenth Branch's ship. So if she wanted to go into the commissary after hours and have a late-night snack, no one could really stop her. And tonight was definitely the kind of night when she wanted to treat herself.

She said at a table in the middle of the room with a plate of tiramisu and a small cup of decaffeinated coffee. Once, when this ship was under military control, the large room was probably called a "mess hall." The spartan look of the tables and chairs betrayed the ship's origins a bit, but the rest of the decor had added a lot of personal touches from the various members of the branch. There was a surprising amount of color on the walls. And Kyoko wasn't in the mood to put up with it when she was trying to be introspective, so she she kept the lights dim and sat alone in the middle of the room, eating small bites of her tiramisu as she reflected quietly to herself.

It had been six or seven minutes when the door to the commissary swung slowly open and a head peeked through. Even before she saw the interloper's face, however, the antenna of hair on his head gave away his identity: Makoto Naegi. Kyoko felt a tinge of pain in her stomach. She suddenly wished that the nighttime auxiliary lighting was far dimmer so that she could sneak out.

He walked towards her slowly, offering a blatantly nervous smile as he approached. Once he was almost to the table, he finally spoke up. "Haven't seen you in a while," Makoto said flatly.

Kyoko cocked an eyebrow. "I'm noticing a distinct lack of pronoun in that sentence," she observed. "Watanabe-san's influence?"

Makoto's face contorted into some kind of befuddled cringe. "It's... just the way people talk," he answered, weakly.

"Certain people," Kyoko said back. The response came a little too quickly. She focused on her breathing, attempting to relax herself. "What brings you here, anyway?"

"Oh!" Makoto said, as though explaining himself hadn't even occurred to him. "Figured I'd sneak in and get a cup of coffee." He looked down at his shoes. "I still remember the trick you showed me to the locks on the public access rooms, so I was gonna just... " He left the rest unsaid.

"You almost never drink coffee," Kyoko said pointedly.

"Except for when I'm stressed out," Makoto said.

"It's not an effective relaxation aid," she reminded him. "Quite the opposite, in fact."

Makoto didn't respond to that remark. He was too fixated on what Kyoko was eating. He gestured limply at her plate. "I didn't know we had tiramisu in our kitchen," he noted

"We don't have tiramisu," she corrected him, "I have tiramisu." She smirked. "I've been keeping it frozen here for use on a rough day."

"I'm sorry," Makoto said genuinely.

She gauged him for moment as she slowly chewed on her latest bite. At last she remarked, "You shouldn't be. It's really not your fault."

With a tiny smile, Makoto explained, "I know. I just meant that I'm sorry you've had a bad day. Y'know?"

Kyoko froze up and looked at him with no particular expression. She blinked a couple of times. "Of course," she said. "I was just joking with you."

He laughed a little. "That's reassuring," he said as he slowly pulled a chair out from under the table directly across from her. The scraping of the chair's legs along the floor seemed shrill and noisy in the middle of the empty room, causing Kyoko to wince. As he sat down, Kyoko started to open her mouth, then paused and let it hang, leaving something unspoken.

Makoto didn't seem to notice. He made himself comfortable by propping an elbow up on the table and leaning his head against it, looking at her. "Soooo... you're not mad at me?"

The shake of Kyoko's head was as much a response to the question as it was a gut reaction to his cluelessness. "Of course not," she told him. A tinge of guilt caught her off-guard, but she kept her expression even.

Makoto's eyes squinted just a bit. "Then what is it?" he asked.

"What is what?" Kyoko countered.

"The reason you've been so... isolated lately, I guess."

She gave him a weak shrug. "I've been busy."

"Really," Makoto said. The hand he was resting his head on balled up into a fist as he sat up, bringing the hand to his chin in thought. "Even though we haven't made landfall or encountered any other ships for days?"

Kyoko paused and put her fork down, resting it gently against the side of her plate. Folding her gloved hands, she said, "Very good. You sound like a detective."

He smiled at that. "Well, this awesome friend and mentor of mine taught me a few things."

In spite of everything, Kyoko smiled right back at the compliment. "And you're certain they're a good friend to you?" she inquired.

He was straight-faced when he emphatically answered, "Of course. Beyond a doubt."

Kyoko's expression was equally serious. "Maybe they're more selfish than you realize," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Makoto frowned. "No way. Not her."

Kyoko's eyebrows went up. "I see. A woman, then," she said. "And you're that confident you know her so well?"

At this point, Makoto could tell she was playing some kind of game or perhaps testing him. He leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. "You're not going to feed me a line about how girls are full of mystery or something, are you?"

The smirk returned to her face, but Kyoko said nothing.

After a long silence, Makoto closed his eyes. "Look... " he began. "I don't know what this is about. Like, I seriously don't know what any of this is about. But why can't we just go back to the way we used to be?" When he opened his eyes, they met hers. "Honestly, I... miss you."

For what seemed like forever, Kyoko stared at him. Her eyes wrinkled at the outer edges for a few seconds. Her mouth started to part, then stopped. She pursed her lips.

"What?" Makoto said back at last. His put both hands on the table and swallowed. "Do you not want us to be close friends anymore?"

Kyoko blinked. "It's not enough."

"What?" Makoto shot back. "What's not-"

"Going back to the way we used to be... " she answered him. "It's not enough."

He slumped back into his chair, crestfallen. His hands slid off of the table, falling to his sides. "I don't understand," he said, sounding small and meek. "What are you trying to say... ? If I did something wrong, I am asking you to tell me. Or if I didn't do something I was supposed to... " He sat up again and leaned forward. "Whatever it takes, I will make this right."

"Although I'm ashamed to admit it," Kyoko said, "This one is on me."

"This what?" Makoto insisted. He threw up his hands and pleaded, "What is 'this one'?!"

Rather than respond, she took the last bite of her tiramisu and stayed silent as she chewed it, either to give herself more time to think or to let the tension hang in the air for a moment. Once she swallowed, she spoke at last. "'This' is... nothing concrete, I suppose." She placed the fork onto her plate. "Sometimes, simply saying what you're feeling comes without a clear point." She slid her chair out from the table and stood up, lifting her plate off of the table as she went.

Makoto stood up to go with her. As she pivoted and moved towards to the kitchen, he kept himself in step right behind her.


The kitchen was a darker space during the night, with only the digital readouts of the appliances and the auxiliary lighting of the adjacent dining hall filtering in through the pass-through countertop. Upon reaching the kitchen sink, Kyoko sat the plate down and turned on the faucet, then began the process of washing her dish. Makoto stood nearby, keeping his hands in his pockets.

"Are you planning to follow me for the rest of the night?" Kyoko inquired without bothering to look at him.

"I might," Makoto said quickly. His face was rigid now.

"You'll hit a snag when I shut the door to my room," Kyoko warned.

"Not if I'm already inside the room," Makoto said back.

Kyoko finally looked over at him and smiled a little. "Breaking and entering, are we?"

"Just entering," he clarified. Faced with her smile, he let his resolute expression crack for a second before regaining control. "I doubt I'll need to break anything," he finished.

"You know that I improved the security measures on my private quarters, right?"

"That won't be an issue if you invite me in."

Kyoko shut off the water to the sink and gave him a pitying look. "Just like that?"

"Yeah," he told her with confidence. "Just like that."

Kyoko patted the exterior of her gloves dry on a dish towel. "And won't Watanabe-san be uncomfortable with you spending time alone with another woman?"

Makoto turned his head and looked at her askance. "That's the second time you've brought her up. Level with me, please: Do you not like her or something?"

"That's not it at all," Kyoko said earnestly. "She's a skilled combatant and a kind young woman."

He looked Kyoko over, trying desperately to spy any hint of a crack of in her facade. "And you're not going to tell me what's really bothering you," he posited. "Is that right?"

Kyoko patted her gloves dry on a dish towel, glancing at him sideways. "I'm not trying to irritate you, you know. I simply wasn't prepared to have this conversation," she admitted.

"Guess that explains why we aren't having this conversation," Makoto grumbled. "If you don't mean to irritate me, then please: quit dodging the issue and level with me."

Kyoko stopped in place as she considered her next move. With a small frown, she pivoted and leaned against the counter, placing her right hand upon it. "Very well," she said. "You deserve that much. Here is my offer: One question, one honest answer."

Makoto's frown was more pronounced than hers. "I only deserve one honest answer?" he asked, surprised.

"That's not what I'm saying," Kyoko swiftly countered. "I'm not placing this limitation just to deny you answers. I'm merely trying to protect myself from... well, myself." Her entire body seemed to sag as she reached the end of that sentence. She looked down and to the side, her eyelids drooping.

His frown deepened. "I don't understand but... okay, whatever," Makoto said softly. Taking two steps forward, he did his best to look her in the eyes. He felt a bit better when her eyes rose to meet his. Makoto licked his lips before he said, "Just tell me this: Why have you been avoiding me for the last two weeks?"

As he finished asking his question, Kyoko heaved a sudden, deep sigh followed by a drawn-out exhale. She looked around the room with her eyes, never turning her head as she considered her response. At last, she chose her words slowly: "I've been coming to terms with my feelings... or at least, I'm trying to." Looking back into his eyes suddenly felt difficult; she flinched and shut hers on instinct. Coward, she scolded herself. She forced her eyes open again, then added, "It's proving difficult for me to talk about this. I've never really... had to I hope you appreciate that I'm pushing myself here."

Makoto's face, which had been scrunched up in a mix of frustration and concern, rapidly transitioned into a sympathetic smile. He closed the gap between them and reached out to put his right hand up on her left shoulder. Gently, he said, "No matter what it is, you can tell me anything. And I do mean anything."

Now it was Kyoko's turn to wrinkle her brow in frustration. In a whisper she said, "You're making it obnoxiously difficult for me to hate you."

Taken aback, Makoto couldn't help but laugh. "Is it that important for you to hate me?"

She smiled at the way he laughed it off, but it was a tiny, sad smile. "It'd be easier if I could," she said. "But... no. You don't deserve that. In fact, you don't deserve any of this." She bowed her head a bit. "I am... sorry for how I've been treating you."

Makoto squeezed her shoulder. "Thanks, I suppose," he responded, "But I'd rather understand the 'why' than get an apology."

Looking back up at him, Kyoko managed to roll her eyes. "I thought I'd made it perfectly clear," she groused.

Makoto grinned sheepishly. "Look," he said in a low voice, "I'm a little slow on the uptake sometimes, all right? I'm gonna need you to be really specific here."

Kyoko shook her head and almost giggled at him. "Surprisingly clever and surprisingly dense," she mused. "What a combination." She looked up to the ceiling and shut her eyes for a few seconds to marshal her strength. When she opened them again, she looked straight ahead at Makoto with new determination. "I'm saying that I have feelings for you, Makoto Naegi."

Bewildered, Makoto stared at her as his face twisted through a variety of rapid changes. First, it turned into a warm red as his mouth fell open. His eyes bulged for a second before narrowing when his brow furrowed. "No, that's — it's not — you-you can't," he said haltingly.

Kyoko scowled at his protests. "What? And why not? Are you claiming to know my feelings better than I do?"

"No!" Makoto yelled back at a volume that actually surprised him. "It's just... that... when I confessed to you, you weren't interested... ?" he said awkwardly. The difficulty of him getting the words out was obvious.

Now Kyoko had her turn to be perplexed by his words. "When you confessed to what, precisely?"

"To having feelings for you, of course," he stated firmly.

She pivoted to her right and folded her arms, twisting away so as to make his hand fall from her shoulder. "That didn't happen," she said flatly, staring off to the side.

"Oh man — don't give me the fake-ignore," Makoto pleaded. "I hate the fake-ignore."

Kyoko did not turn back to face him. "Well, I don't appreciate you claiming something happened that obviously didn't," she replied.

"But it did!" he insisted. "It was like, five months ago, I think? We were doing that thing where we watch the night sky go by from the upper deck of the ship, except you were sitting down at a table near the back, the aft, on the... um, the port side?" His speech accelerated as he continued. "And, y'know, you always sit at the small tables with just two chairs, which meant you had an extra one, so I came and sat down across from you, and when I did that you-"

Kyoko turned her head back now, intrigued. "Was I eating at the time?" she inquired.

"No," Makoto said instantly. "You were just kinda staring off into space, I guess."

Her face grew contemplative. She brought a finger to her lips as she thought. "Do you remember what you said to me, and what I said back?"

"I know exactly what you said," Makoto told her. "But what I said was uh..." He reached up and scratched at the back of his head. "Look, I had a lot of adrenaline rushing through me at the time, so I remember the gist, but the exact details are kinda hard to pull up in my brain."

"Very well," Kyoko responded. "Tell me what you recall."

Makoto immediately began. "When I sat down across from you, you smiled at me — y'know, that little smile you have — and um, it filled me with the confidence to just go for it, I guess. You looked off towards the water, and with your hair blowing in the wind and you facing away, I told you something like... " He paused and took a deep breath. "I told you that I really was grateful for the time we'd had together. That you'd opened up to me and let me into your life... and that I... " He swallowed hard and looked at the ground. "That I wanted to try and take things to another level with you. That I wanted us to try and be... a couple. Romantically."

Kyoko stood before him, just over a meter away, seemingly frozen by his words. Her hand had dropped limply from her face. Now it hovered in midair in front or her chest as she stared, glassy-eyed. Her mouth was agape, but she managed to keep it from being too obvious — to Makoto, she seemed to only have her lips slightly parted. She tried to protest his story, whispering, "That's not possible." Yet the hushed tone made it clear how little she believed her own denial.

He drew his lips inward and nodded a couple of times. "That's basically what you said then, too," he continued. "Your exact words were: 'Well, that's not going to work.' Then you turned back to look at me and said, 'I'm sorry.'" He chuckled ruefully. "And that's... that was the end of it."

Her hand was covering her mouth now and her eyes had drifted off to the side as she processed the information. "Five months," she mumbled. Her eyes darted back to his. The gloved hand fell away. "Then that was March of this year," she said.

"Yeah," Makoto said. "That's right."

He was not prepared for how she scowled at him. "The 'I'm sorry' you heard," she informed him. "That was a question."

"Huh?" he said weakly.

"It was 'I'm sorry?'" she clarified as she emphasized the upward lilt of the question mark. "It was a question by way of apology." She gritted her teeth. "Because I couldn't hear what you'd said before that."

It was Makoto's turn to look as chastened as Kyoko had mere moments ago. "That's... no, there's-"

"If you recall the beginning of that weekend — the second one in March," Kyoko told him, "I had received a shipment of prototypes from the Ninth Branch that they wanted me to test out. I even told you that I was going to be going up to the deck each night that weekend so that I could fire the weapons out over the open ocean and test the other items in an outdoor environment. I even invited you to come up and see the goods for yourself, perhaps do some paperwork nearby simply to keep me company. I wager that's precisely how you knew where find me that night."

Makoto was squinted in confusion, but he only said, "Okay... "

"I tested most of the weaponry that Friday night," she went on. "That Saturday, I found myself testing some other, more varied items. These included a discrete pair of noise-cancelling earbuds that they'd put together to block out nearby explosions or — if need be — an attack by one of the noisier members of the Remnants-"

"Oh god," Makoto said in horror, cutting her off. "Oh no." His shoulders slumped. His face was pale.

"That's right," Kyoko confirmed with a sympathetic frown. "First, they passed the test of muffling the sound of gunfire. They even did fine with blocking the sound outdoor winds and waves. But I felt the reverberations of a voice once you began speaking to me. I I tried to adjust them with one hand, but it became clear that simple speaking was not adequately blocked out. Without the ability to block out vocals, someone like Ibuki Mioda would have no trouble screaming our heads off at a higher volume."

She paused and let her explanation hang in the air as she looked at Makoto's sickly face. "So that's why... " he began. He never bothered to finish his sentence out loud.

She exhaled sharply and repeated his words back to him: "'Well, that's not going to work. I'm sorry?' Two separate thoughts. One was a reaction to the item I was testing. I wonder if you even noticed me reaching up and underneath my hair to pull out the device. The second part was me asking for clarification on what you said when I couldn't hear you properly."

Makoto ground his teeth together and shut his eyes tight. "I'm an idiot," he grumbled.

"I assumed you still knew that I was testing out tech up there, and I declared the latest device untenable," she said unnecessarily. "That was all. Then, when I asked you to repeat what you'd been saying, you told me to forget about it," Kyoko said. A trace of emotion leaked into her voice as she ended, "I took that at face value. Foolishly, as it turns out. Even later that evening, when you seemed sullen, you blew me off when I asked what the problem was." Kyoko clenched her right hand into a fist and looked up to the ceiling. "I just assumed you'd... " Her voice cracked and she swiftly shut her eyes, embarrassed.

Makoto hung his head. "I need to... I can't believe that—God. I really am sorry. Really."

Kyoko clenched her fist in frustration and looked away. "I suppose it's not really anyone's fault."

"I can't, with this," Makoto said in quiet desperation. "I'm such a tool. Let my nerves take over. I-I need to get out of here-" He turned away and moved to dash out of the kitchen.

He was instantly stopped when he felt Kyoko's hand squeezing his right shoulder from behind him. "Naegi-kun," she said, "I meant what I said earlier. Regardless of what happened seven months ago, I still mean it. So if you could tell me... please: How do you feel now?"

Makoto turned his head back, his eyes hidden in shadow. "Now? I feel like an idiot that's wasted my time, feelings, and heart on-"

"About me, Naegi-kun," Kyoko said. Her eyes wrinkled up at their sides, betraying her inner turmoil. With a subtle sadness, she, added, "I'm sorry to have put you into this position. I know you're stuck dealing with both me and Watanabe-san's feelings now. Honestly, I never intended to tell you what I was feeling in the first place. However, seeing you tonight made it increasingly difficult to keep it to myself."

He let out a ragged breath and rubbed the top of his head with his right hand. "Is that why you've avoided me these past few weeks?" he asked. "So you wouldn't let something out?"

"No," she answered. "That was simply to spare myself the pain of facing you."

Makoto finally pivoted to face her once more in full. As Kyoko's hand fell off his shoulder, she was surprised to see his eyes full of tears. "I never avoided you when I thought you'd outright rejected me," he pointed out.

Kyoko folded her hands in front of her and bit her lower lip. "No, you did not," she conceded. "But you didn't have to watch me acting like some crush-addled junior-high student with another party, either."

He responded by throwing up the "time out" signal with his hands. "Uh, hold up — flag on the play?" he said. "Irrelevant. You never have, either!"

She tilted her head curiously. "Oh? So you're not completely infatuated with the new woman in your life?" She spun on her heel and faced the opposite direction as she grumbled, "Your behavior argues otherwise."

Makoto threw up his hands. "What behavior? And what woman?!" he demanded. Then, for a fleeting moment, his focus on Kyoko turned into a 1000-yard-stare. "You're talking about Watanabe-san," he realized.

Kyoko rolled her eyes in spite of the fact that Makoto couldn't even see her do it. "Of course I am," she said. "I've wandered into the same area of the ship as the two of you a few times over the past couple of weeks." She made a quarter-turn to her left so that she could side-eye him properly. "Whenever I've seen you together, it's clear from your body language and facial expressions just how deeply you're into one another."

Both of Makoto's arms fell to his sides. "Unbelievable," he said, a wry smile creeping across his face. "Kirigiri-san's skills have finally betrayed her." He covered his mouth and started to laugh, looking away as he did so.

This made her turn all the way around to face him head-on once more. "Just what do you mean by that?" she inquired.

"I-I'm sorry for laughing!" Makoto claimed, still struggling to stifle his own giggles. "It's just-" He stopped himself and grew serious as he realized, "Oh. Oh. Then Watanabe-san is really that into me?" He frowned and scratched his cheek nervously.

"Of course she is," Kyoko fired back. "And I don't see the humor in it."

Her voice pulled him back to reality. "Right, sorry," he said. "See, I was laughing because you totally misread me. How do I put this? If I was giving off that kind of body language, it wasn't because of Watanabe-san." Shyly, Makoto looked down. "You saw us on the upper deck at first, right? And then in the gym, and then the communications lab."

"Well, yes," Kyoko admitted. "It's not like I was keeping it a secret." Her voice remained firm. "I'm not concerned that you noticed me there."

"Couildn't stop noticing, actually," Makoto told her. "Just doing my best not to stare." He smiled nervously at her, until...

Kyoko looked downward suddenly as her face went bright red. "You-!" she blurted.

"Uh-huh," Makoto said, blushing right back. "If you noticed those kinds of expressions or body language, it's only because you were there."

Kyoko stepped back a few paces. "I was so sure," she said, sounding uncharacteristically meek.

"It isn't the first time," Makoto reminded her. "There was that one day in Hope's Peak when you thought that Fujisaki-kun and I were-"

"Don't remind me," Kyoko said with a rapid shake of her head.

"It's really not that bad," Makoto said with a reassuring smile. "At least this should answer your question... about how I feel."

She locked her eyes with his now, attempting to return to the cool, confident persona she typically displayed. "So if those signals were caused by me, does that mean that... "

"Right," Makoto confirmed with a half-smile. "I spent five months trying to get over you. It didn't work out."

She sucked on her lower lip for a few seconds as she let that information wash over her. "And Watanabe-san?" she asked.

"I didn't know she was interested in me like that until earlier tonight," he said with a half-hearted shrug.

"I see," Kyoko said calmly. "Then you two aren't involved after all? Or did that begin this evening?"

"No, no," he assured her. "We're not involved. She just ended our evening hangout with... the clear messager that she wants to be." He hunched over guiltily. "And when I ran into you here, I thought it was perfect." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I figured I could fix up our friendship or maybe finally get the strength to move on, if only you'd just tell me off or something."

Kyoko approached him slowly. "Listen, Naegi-kun," she said, hesitant. She continued to draw nearer. "You know how I feel, and now, I know how you-"

"I wanna make something really clear," Makoto said, interrupting her again. He looked at her with a new purpose. His face hardened with resolve. "Sorry for interrupting you again, but I need you to understand what you're dealing with."

She stopped walking just two steps away from him. "Yes?" she said expectantly.

"All this talk about 'those kinds of feelings' or whatever is a nice dodge," Makoto said, "But here's the thing: I'm in love with you." He felt his heart lodge in his throat, but he kept going. "Like I said, I tried to move on after you—that is, after I thought you'd rejected me. But we remained close, so the initial feelings never had a chance to die. They just grew and grew into... " He spread out his arms. "Into this. Into how I am now. An unremarkable guy who just happens to think you're the most amazing person he's ever known. And if that's kind of intense? I'm sorry."

She smiled. It was a little more broad of a smile than Makoto was used to seeing on her, but for all its simple subtlety, it felt as bright as a sunbeam to him. "Don't be sorry," she told him. "You're in good company. I mean, are you willing to deal with a withdrawn, emotionally cold young woman?"

"You're not 'cold' at all!" Makoto countered.

"And you're not 'unremarkable' in any way," Kyoko told him sincerely. "Besides, I think that, if I'd heard you five months ago, I would've been interested in taking that step." She stepped close and reached out, wrapping one of his bare hands in her gloved one. Her voice was only a whisper as she continued, "It's only the past few weeks that have made me realize how strongly I feel about you, too. As embarrassing as all these misunderstandings have been to discuss, I'm far more ashamed to admit that the strength of my own petty jealousy was what finally made me accept... that... "She blinked a few times, struggling. Makoto stared at her, his eyes beaming and his cheeks glowing pink. Kyoko cleared her throat and went on, "It made me accept that... I... want you to be mine, and mine alone. And I want to be yours." She blinked again. And then yet again. "Oh, hell," she growled, gritting her teeth. "I-I love you too!" she suddenly yelped — and then she shut her eyes tightly.

Makoto lunged, embracing her as tightly as he could. "That was surprisingly difficult to say," Kyoko said, laughing a bit at herself as she wrapped her arms around Makoto in return.

"I think you said it beautifully," Makoto whispered into her ear.

Kyoko giggled. "I'm not any good at this," she told him. "I mean... romantic relationships. That kind of thing."

Pulling back from their hug, Makoto smiled warmly at her. "Neither am I," he said. "I hope you don't mind if I learn it as we go along."

She took both his hands in hers. "We'll figure it out together," she told him affectionately. "Okay?'

And yet again, Makoto seemed distracted by something he realized. "Oh NO," he groaned.

"What is it?" Kyoko asked with concern. "Did I say something strange?"

He pulled one hand away from hers and slapped his own forehead. "Watanabe-san confessed to me tonight," he managed to quietly say through his teeth. "So now I've got to let her down easy somehow... "

Kyoko smiled once more. "You're so full of empathy," she observed. "Haven't you ever rejected anyone before?"

Makoto stared at her like she'd just suggested he was the new monarch of Russia. "Of course not!" he replied adamantly. "What, have you?"

She nodded nonchalantly. "Naturally," she confirmed.

"Great," Makoto said sarcastically. "I'm dating out of my league." He was only half-joking. "I knew it."

"Quiet now," Kyoko said, leaning forward. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and kissed him gently, pressing herself down and into his mouth. Makoto put his arms around her waist in turn and pulled her close, deepening the kiss.

When she pulled away, Kyoko was grinning. "I can help you figure out what to say," she suggested. "For now, let's go someplace else."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, so you are going to invite me to your room?" he teased.

"There is no way that you knew this would happen," Kyoko said as she narrowed her eyes. "Don't even start."

He half-shrugged and looked to the side. "I'm just saying: I told you that you'd invite me to your room to talk, and LO, here we are!"

"Oh," Kyoko said. "So it's not that you had insight into the future, it's that you're somehow controlling me?"

His smile turned playful. "Would you know if was?" he joked.

"Well, I can assure you that one of your commands has already failed," Kyoko told him. "Because I don't expect there to be all that much talking going on."

At that, Makoto Naegi was struck speechless. Kyoko grabbed his tie and whipped it over shoulder as she headed for the exit, pulling him along behind her... and leaving him blushing once again.


Hi! It's been a while. If you made it through my longest one-shot to date, thank you so much for reading it.

Background on this one: I've seen a lot of Naegiri headcanons/drabbles that involve Makoto getting jealous of Kyoko, and a lot of people in the fandom claiming that Kyoko would obviously have far more choices than Makoto when it comes to possible romantic partners. This naturally made me want to explore the inverse of both: A jealous Kiri, dealing with Makoto's own likability leading him to attract someone else. And I enjoy using minor background players from the actual canon and expanding them to have actual personalities and names. Hence the use of the Yo-Yo girl from the finale of DR3.

if you've been waiting for me to update one of my WIPs (like, say... The Yearbook), I am truly sorry for the delay. I feel guilty about that damn near every day. But I am not dead, nor have I forgotten. My own brain and my life get in the way of productivity sometimes. I apologize again.

I must give some gratitude to fellow writer "CapNii" for indirectly driving/inspiring me to type this out. And I also thank YOU again for reading this! I hope you managed to enjoy it. Much love to you all.