POPULATION: ?
"Waaaaaaaaaah!"
The day usually always starts this way…
…Or… something along those lines… at least…
"I can't believe it! It's been so long already?! And today is your first day?! I can't believe it! I can't believe it, Waaaaaaaaaah!"
A brown patch of hair wailed. Clutching the small shoulders of the kid in front of him, with raining tears streaming down his face as if he were witnessing a tragedy rather than a milestone. His child—stone-faced and entirely unimpressed—let out a long, tired sigh.
"Dad, you do this every time," he muttered, shifting uncomfortably as other parents started to stare. "It's just school. Not like we are being shipped off to war..."
"BUT IT'S THE FIRST STEP TO ADULTHOOD!" He wailed nonetheless, gripping them like he was about to be torn away forever. "I'M NOT PREPARED! NOT YET!"
A soft giggle broke through his dramatic outburst. Standing just beside her brother, his second child there —cheeks rosy with a permanent blush— gently tugged at his sleeve.
"Don't cry too much, Daddy. You'll embarrass him," she whispered to her father's ear.
"Sh-Shut up…" His kid berated, trying to act unphazed but her
"Ahahaha…" One of the kindergarden teachers dared to step in, trying to console the father of the two. "It's… normal to be this emotional… It's a touching moment, I know sir…" Offering him a tissue she had come with.
"Naegi…"
Makoto sniffled, taking it with a trembling hand. His watch beeped on his wrist. He blinked, glancing down at the screen.
Next stop in 10 minutes. Keep it moving, Dad!
His shoulders sagged. Right… He had more stops to do.
Now revitalized, yet with one last exaggerated sniff, he stepped back, dramatically wiping his eyes. "Alright… alright! You two behave. Listen to your teachers, make friends, and if anyone gives you trouble—"
"Daaaad." The first one groaned, already turning away.
The second just smiled and waved as she followed.
Makoto stood there, watching as the school doors swallowed them up, a bittersweet ache settling in his chest. No matter how many times he did this, it never got easier.
*beep* *beep*
His watch reminded him, an alarm he preset to not stay daydreaming for too long. He couldn't stand here all day. There were still more goodbyes to go.
"They grow so fast…" He sighed, wiped his eyes again, and hurried back to his van.
His vehicle was a green-to beige van. A large one. A gift his parents had made as it would ease most complications he had. At least… compared to his first days being a parent.
After carefully looking at both sides of the street, he walked to the door and got back to the driver's seat, preparing himself for their next destination.
"All right." He said almost immediately as he sat. "Next stop. Blackroot School." He said to himself. A mental note he kept.
"Are you going to do this every time, old man?" The ahoged man heard from his side.
In the passenger's seat next to his, lay a teenage girl. Raven haired, greenish beige eyes and some freckles plastered along her face and cheeks. She had an unimpressed look, accustomed to Makoto's shenanigans by now.
"I mean…This is an important day to me. Can you blame me?"
"Yeah." She deadpanned. "Everyday is an important day to you."
The father of… them chuckled nervously, not exactly having a prepared defense. "Come on, Shi-nee… How can everyday not be important! All of you are on my life for it!"
As if he were proving a point, he moved his arm to the back of the vehicle, showing many… Many more children sitting on the back there. It was always chaos driving up to school, as Makoto had to drop almost each and every single one of them to their respective schools.
He managed though. He was their father after all.
"Yeah, yeah… we all are… "Makoto's Angels," are we not?" The teenage girl beside him rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms.
Even through this, Makoto's smile didn't falter.
"I'm sorry you have to put up with this, Shi-nee… I really appreciate your help."
"Don't…" Makoto heard from her, however, she cut herself. When he turned towards her, she was hiding her face from him, however, Makoto could see how red her ear had gotten.
"Don't… call me that in public… People will… misinterpret it…"
He chuckled lightly, placing a hand on his daughter's head, stroking her hair.
"Very well, Shitai…" He smiled as he retracted his arm. "Love you."
"Nngrhbhf…" She grumbled incoherently, but he knew what she meant.
He stepped on the clutch pedal and turned the key to start the car's engine. The day had just begun.
—- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —-
"Waaaaaaaahaahaaaaaaaah!"
They had arrived and, once there, most kids were already stepping off the van to… start another year in school.
Most of Makoto's kids went to Blackroot, much like how he did before attending Hope's Peak.
However, some kids were by now leaving their stuff behind, and Makoto was the one responsible for making sure everyone had their respective bag on hand. Shitai stood bored next to him as they handed the corresponding bags to the children—at least, to those too excited to remember them.
"Idiot," Shitai muttered as she shoved a bag into the arms of a boy with soft features, warm freckled eyes and black hair, his naturally gentle demeanor making him seem almost out of place among the rowdier siblings. He blinked, then let out a quiet, nervous chuckle, unsure on how to even respond.
Before he could even try, another sibling jumped up, with a fire in his eyes and a snarl. He haid slightly longer hair, colored with a deep green, only obscured just so slightly by a familiar brown shade he inherited.
"Says you!" he shot back at Shitai, blowing a loud raspberry before grabbing the first boy by the wrist and dragging him away.
Makoto sighed, already slipping into full Dad Mode of his…
"Shi-nee…?" His voice carried the weight of quiet disapproval.
"Not—Not now, Dad!" she huffed, turning away as if to escape the incoming lecture.
Makoto sighed, deciding to let it slide for now. The important thing was making sure every kid had what they needed.
A few lingered. The younger ones. Those who still clung to him, who hadn't yet grown out of the ritual of goodbye hugs just yet, to his delight.
A small girl with short orange hair tugged at his sleeve. "Papa, are you sure I'm in the right class?"
Makoto bent down, smoothing out her uniform collar. "Yeah, Koharu dear, I double-checked. Look for Miss Kobayashi, remember?"
Koharu nodded but still looked unconvinced. "Y-Yeah, But what if—"
A horn honked from behind them. Another parent, growing impatient.
"Eat shit!" The eldest shouted at the impatient car, rushing to defend her father.
"Shitai!" Makoto however yelped, horrified at his daughter's vocabulary.
Before he could say more, little Koharu was gently but firmly pulled away by an older girl. She had brown hair, but with sharp green eyes. She wasn't amongst the eldest, but despite being relatively young, she protectively moved with Koharu at her side.
She sent a nod to Makoto's way, silently telling him she would take care of her…
But that made Makoto sniff, his throat already tight. He wasn't ready. He was never ready.
One by one, the younger kids pulled away, dashing off with final waves and calls of "Bye, Papa!" or "See you later, Dad!" He waved back, but his vision had already started blurring.
His breath hitched. It was happening. Again.
Makoto wiped at his face, but the tears spilled over before he could stop them. This was too much. Too fast. They were just babies yesterday, weren't they?
"LIFE IS NOT FAIR! WAAAAAAAAHAAHAAAAAAAAH!"
A few other parents stood nearby, openly staring at him and the sheer size of the family he'd just unloaded onto Blackroot's steps. Some whispered to each other. Others just looked stunned.
Shitai sighed loudly beside him, shifting on her feet.
"Dad."
Makoto sniffled. Still mumbling in his own world.
"Dad, let's go."
"I just—"
Shitai grabbed his sleeve and yanked him toward the van. "Now. Before you embarrass the whole family."
Makoto sobbed harder but let himself be dragged back inside.
"goodbye… my… little hopesprings…" He murmured under his breath, with an arm extended towards his fleeting children, his hand trying to reach them, but it never would..
Shitai groaned as she dragged her father away. Causing some strangers to chuckle at the sight.
—- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —-
Makoto left out a long, deep sigh as he slid into the driver's seat, adjusting himself as he cleaned his eyes before settling in. The morning had been a rollercoaster of emotions, but now it was just him and Shitai. The last drop-off of the day.
Shitai, sitting in the passenger seat, crosses her arms and stares out the window, her usual aloof expression in place. Her reflection on the glass shows the tiniest furrow of her brows, like she's bracing herself for something, though she'd never admit it.
Makoto sees this and taps the dashboard screen, scrolling through the playlists on Placeify.
"Wanna put on your favorite band?"
She scoffs, rolling her eyes but not looking at him. "Tch. Do whatever you want."
Makoto chuckles under his breath and presses play.
—- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —-
The door slid open with a crisp clack, and the woman who stepped inside carried herself with an air of quiet authority. She was tall and well-dressed, her fitted blazer and pencil skirt giving off a strict, professional air. Her long, pink hair cascaded past her shoulders, neatly styled with small braids framing her face. Her sharp icy blue eyes, framed by her straight-cut bangs, swept across the classroom with an assessing gaze.
For a brief moment, she said nothing. The students barely shifted, some straightening in their seats, others watching her with mild curiosity. Finally, she adjusted her blazer with a precise motion and exhaled softly.
"My name is Mafuyu Kirisu," she introduced herself, her tone even but firm. "And I'll be your homeroom teacher for the year."
She was met with silence. Thankfully she had gotten their attention quite quickly.
She moved to her desk and glanced down at the clipboard in her hand as she clicked her roller pen open. "We'll begin with attendance," she continued, flipping through the pages. Her brow furrowed slightly as she skimmed the list.
"…Backwards order, for some reason," she muttered to herself. She glanced toward the faculty section near her desk, as if trying to decipher why this was how the names had been arranged. No answer presented itself, but it was no matter in the end..
"Zannena Sakano?"
"Hai!" A girl, her disheveled hair and a look of pure embarrassment spoke first.
"Good…" She noted up and went on like normal.
The list was fairly normal at the start. Other than beginning with Z instead of the usual Am nothing else catched her eye.
She eventually got to… the beginning of the end…
"Nariyuki Yuiga."
"Here!" A boy with glasses spoke. She had seen him before but, not really anything noteworthy.
"Very well…"
She checked the mark and she asked for a last name that felt quite familiar to her.
"Naegi Yahiroka"
"Here!" A girl with long light pink hair said, rather too lax for her liking…
The teacher marked her as present and read the next name. Her sibling, she quickly figured.
"Naegi Tokuto."
"H–He–Here!" A boy stuttered, however he didn't seem very flustered or even bothered by that. However, his hair was purplish to brown in a way…
But his skin color didn't quite match with his sister…
Eh, she figured they took different traits from their parents… She read the next name, but this time… she didn't do so absentmindedly.
"...Naegi Kihoshi?"
"Here." The next student was a boy. He barely spoke up, barely interested in making his presence known, he had deep crimson eyes and jet-black hair, slightly unkempt...
His hair was… different from the other two…
She pressed on and… barely believed the next in line…
"Na…egi…Daidai?"
"Present, teach!" Another boy raised his hand. Rather tall compared to the rest, but… something just didn't fit.
His orange hair stood out the most for the teacher. He sent Mafuyu to a full stop. As he was… without a doubt, different from the other three
But… that was just… Could he have dyed his hair? She'll make sure to speak with his parents later…
However, she would have yet another double take, as the last name of the front page was… Also Naegi…
She scurried to the next page and, to her horror, the last name persisted. She asked out loud the last name in the list she could read…
"Na… Naegi… Asahi…?"
"I'm here." And to her dismay, this kid had RED hair, with freckles covering his cheeks and pale skin.
Just… Just who were these kids…?
"H-How many of you are Naegi?" She instinctively asked.
At that, almost the remainder of the whole class raised their hands.
She stood in awe, alongside their classmates that were, in fact, not Naegi related. At the very least, she wasn't the only one left agape by this turn of events.
"Al...right then… Well… that… that is a first for me…" She blinked, not quite sure what to even think about this year's group…
"I'm going to need a lot of coffee this year…"
—- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —-
The van rolls down the road smoothly, the city passing by in the morning light. the atmosphere is… strangely calm for Makoto, considering there are only two passengers in the van now. The only sounds are the hum of the tires against the asphalt, the occasional click of a turn signal, and the steady rhythm of Makoto's fingers drumming lightly against the wheel. And—
"save me from this… make iT END!"
Makoto doesn't even blink. His hands stay firmly on the wheel, gaze steady on the road.
Meanwhile at his right, in the passenger seat—
Shitai is screaming the lyrics, head tilted back, eyes shut in raw, unfiltered emotion. One hand clutches her seatbelt like it's the mic stand at a concert, the other clenched in a dramatic fist.
"I FEEL IT DEEP WITHIN! IT'S JUST BENEATH THE SKIN!"
Makoto calmly adjusts the rearview mirror.
Shitai, now fully committed, throws herself into it, leaning forward as if the dashboard itself is her stage.
"I MUST CONFESS THAT I FEEL LIKE A MONSTER!"
Makoto reaches for his cup of coffee, taking a casual sip.
Shitai grips her armrest, shaking her head wildly, lost in the moment.
"I HATE WHAT I'VE BECOME! THE NIGHTMARE'S JUST BEGUN!"
Makoto gently sets his coffee back into the cup holder. He takes a slow breath in. Then out.
Shitai bangs her fist against her knee to the beat, completely oblivious to the fact that she's not at an actual concert.
"I MUST CONFESS THAT I FEEL LIKE A MONSTER!"
Makoto glances at the clock on the dashboard. They would take around five more minutes to arrive.
This is fine.
"I, I FEEL LIKE A MONSTER!"
—- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —-
The car rolled to a stop in front of the familiar campus, one Makoto and Shitai had visited countless times before. He parked with practiced ease, still caught in the rhythm of routine.
Shitai was already preparing to hop out, but before she could, Makoto pulled out something he'd prepared for her in the morning.
"Shi-nee, here." he said, holding it out to her.
She turned, but when she did, she froze. In her father's hands there was a heart shaped lunchbox. Her name written on a sticky note.
"H-Huh?"
"It's yakiniku! Your favorite," he said with his signature unwavering smile in place.
"I grilled it this morning before we left." He said with pride.
Shitai gritted her teeth, avoiding her father's eyes.
Shitai clenched her jaw, eyes darting anywhere but at him.
"Th-The hell is wrong with you?" she stammered. "I'm not a little kid anymore! There's a cafeteria here—I can buy whatever I want!"
"Well, yeah," Makoto admitted, undeterred. "But I bet they don't sell yakiniku."
She rolled her eyes. "You seriously expect me to carry this around all day?"
For the first time, his smile faltered, just a bit—not sadness, but uncertainty. He hadn't considered that.
"Oh… uh… yeah… sorry. I can just give it to your mother and—"
Before he could finish, she snatched the lunchbox from his hands, clutching it tightly.
"S-Since you already made it, I'll just eat it! I won't let you waste food or anything!"
Makoto's smile returned in full force, his eyes practically sparkling.
And Shitai's face burned hotter than… honestly, any known power energy source.
"I-I-I'll see you later, Dad!" she blurted, fumbling with the van door and practically leaping out. She turned her back to him before he could get another look at her face—any more embarrassment would be fatal.
Makoto watched her go, warmth swelling in his chest. He sighed, for like, the 80th time by now.
"She's growing up."
The thought ached, but it was the kind of pain that came with pride. She had her own path now, but if she ever needed him, he'd be there. And even if she'd never admit it, he knew she appreciated the little things.
Meanwhile, on her way inside, Shitai glanced down at the lunchbox, scowling at its shape but daydreaming of its contents.
"It's yakiniku. Your favorite."
Her stomach growled.
"Damn it."
Her mouth watered with just the thought.
—- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —-
After dropping his kids to their respective schools, Makoto finally returned home.
He had a giant to-do list, so he better start now.
First on the list was to clean. So he did just that.
Living room, bathrooms room, their bedroom, the kids' giant bedroom. You name it. It all took quite the effort from him, but nothing he couldn't do by now.
The only room he skipped for now, was the cradle room. He didn't want to accidentally set something off and have his precious little angels wake up from their sleep. The last thing wanted was for them to cry, which would make him cry as well!
When he got back to the living room, he sat down on the family's couch. Not for long but, just enough to take a breather.
As he melted onto the comfortable couch, his eyes naturally landed towards where they kept their pictures hung. It always brought a smile to him whenever he looked at them.
He stood up and walked in front of all the pictures, however, his eyes fixated on one of his favorites of all time.
The day of his wedding. The day he became the happiest man in the world.
He extended his arm and took hold of the picture frame. Unlike most pictures, this one was rectangular. They had to make sure no one was left out that day. And it had paid off, as everytime he sees that picture, he becomes happier and happier, acknowledging how lucky he was to be given his life. To live. To love. To be loved.
After enough downtime, he gently left the picture frame back where it rightfully belonged. To be on display for everyone to see. For everyone to remember.
With a nod, he walked towards his next cleaning spot, the kitchen.
As he walked around the couch, he quickly got there, as the house's kitchen wasn't an entire designated room, but a corner on the living room. A welcomed gimmick considering how they handled themselves in their old cafeteria during their youth.
A note caught his attention on the fridge. "Left for groceries," it read in neat handwriting, no name signed underneath.
Makoto chuckled to himself, scanning the rest of the kitchen. The house was quiet—eerily so—. Everything was neatly organized, much like how he's used to see now.
He set his keys down with a sigh. He knew who left the note next to this clean part of the house. He sighed in relief, knowing they were taking care of the groceries this time. That brought him a smile.
Makoto moved to the kitchen, trying to find what he could clean from there, a routine he'd become all too familiar with.
As he did, he took stock of what they had to and what he could do for dinner. It wouldn't do any harm if he started early.
Makoto glanced over at the fridge, opening it with a slight tug. Inside, the shelves were moderately stocked—some leftover miso soup from yesterday, a few eggs, and a tray of chicken that needed to be cooked soon. The vegetables in the crisper looked fresh enough, though a couple of carrots had seen better days.
He hummed in thought. Stir-fry would be easy, but maybe something heartier would be better…
His gaze landed on a bag of rice resting on the counter. Chicken and vegetable donburi, then. Simple, filling, and something everyone would eat.
With a nod to himself, he rolled up his sleeves, put on his usual apron and got to work. Washing the rice, setting it in the cooker, then moving on to slicing the vegetables with practiced ease. The rhythmic tap of the knife against the cutting board filled the quiet kitchen, the familiar routine settling him.
As he set the pan on the stove, waiting for the oil to heat, he pulled out his phone and tapped into the family group chat on DOT.
Dinner's at 7! please don't forget! ️
He barely had time to lower his phone before the onslaught began—vibrations rattling against his palm, messages flooding in rapid-fire. He chuckled, shaking his head as he lifted the screen again.
Some things never changed.
He happily chirped as he continued to cook.
—- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —-
The kitchen was a symphony of sizzling pans and the rhythmic thunk of a knife against a cutting board. Makoto stood at the counter, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, meticulously dicing carrots into neat, even pieces. The aroma of simmering broth filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of crayons and playdough from the living room. It was a rare moment of quiet in the Naegi household—a brief respite after the morning chaos of getting what felt like an army of children dressed, fed, and out the door for school.
Makoto wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, glancing at the clock on the wall. Just a few more minutes, he thought, and the soup will be ready. He hummed softly to himself, a habit he'd picked up over the years to keep his nerves steady. Life with… well, them… was overwhelming, to say the least. But it was his life, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.
The sudden chime of the doorbell shattered the calm.
Makoto froze, the knife in his hand hovering mid-air. His heart skipped a beat, and his eyes darted to the front door, visible through the archway of the kitchen. The sound was so abrupt, so unexpected, that it sent a jolt of unease through him. Who could that be? he wondered, his mind racing. He wasn't expecting anyone, and the mailman had already come and gone for the day. Besides, everyone in the house had their own keys. No one ever rang the doorbell.
"Papa?" a small voice piped up from the living room.
Makoto turned to see his daughter, Roxy, peeking around the corner. At four years old, she was a spitting image of her mother, with a mop of dark hair and curious eyes that always seemed to be asking a million questions. She clutched a stuffed bear in one hand, its fur matted from years of love and attention.
"Papa, door!" she said, pointing toward the front of the house with her free hand. Her wide, innocent eyes stared up at him, waiting for an explanation.
Makoto forced a smile, though his pulse was still racing. "Yeah, I heard it, sweetheart," he said, setting the knife down on the counter. He knelt to her level, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "It's probably nothing. Why don't you keep playing with your siblings for a bit? I'll check it out."
Roxy tilted her head, her expression serious. "But what if it's a monster, Papa?"
Makoto chuckled, though the sound was strained. "If it's a monster, I'll handle it. Go on, now. I'll call you if I need backup."
She giggled at that. "Roxy on backup!" She saluted before she scampered off down the hall. Makoto watched her go, his smile fading as he turned back toward the door. The unease in his chest hadn't subsided. He glanced at the knife on the counter, hesitating for a moment before picking it up, gripping the handle tightly as he moved toward the door.
He reached the door and paused, his hand hovering over the knob. Taking a deep breath, he peered through the peephole, but it was forever useless. He damned himself everytime he did, not getting it fixed for occasions like this.
He opened the door just a crack, keeping the knife hidden behind his back. Ready for anything to happen–
"Oh, hey there," he said, forcing a cheerful tone. "Didn't expect to see you again today."
The mailman, at the other side of the door, raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Mr. Naegi." he said, his voice flat. "I've got… let's see…" He flipped through a small stack of envelopes before pulling out a single letter. "This one must've gotten missed in the morning run. Lucky you."
Makoto chuckled nervously, shifting the knife to his other hand so he could take the letter. "Yeah, well, you know how it is. Big family, lots of… mail… I think…?"
The mailman sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't think anyone knows how it is, Mr. Naegi. But hey, it's job security for me, so…" He shrugged, though his tone carried a hint of disdain. "Must be nice, though. Living the dream, huh?"
Makoto blinked, caught off guard by the comment. "Uh… I guess?"
The mailman gave him a look—a mix of exhaustion, envy, and something else Makoto couldn't quite place. "Yeah. Must be nice," he repeated, his voice drier than before.
Before he turned to leave and headed back to his work truck, he scanned Makoto's whole body, up and down. The former Ultimate Lucky Student tilted his head at the gesture, however, the mailman wouldn't keep quiet for long.
"Nice apron." He commented, however, anyone would pick up that it wasn't a real and earnest compliment.
Makoto however…
"Huh?" He looked down and yeah, he was still wearing it. It was pink with the outlines of that signature green he used very often. "Oh, yeah. Thanks! My wife got it for me."
He scoffed. "Sure she did…" shaking his head, he turned to leave.
Makoto stood there, watching the man go in every step of the way. He got in his vehicle and promptly drove away, his eyes following the truck until he could no more, his gaze never dropping until he could no more.
With that, he glanced down at the white envelope in his hands. Strange, as it had no message, no marking, no… nothing…
Pulling the knife from his back, he rolled it between his fingers and promptly cut the envelope open. Once he scanned the contents of, it all became clear to him.
For the first time of the day, Makoto's permanent smile, or at the very least, positive attitude broke completely, as he took out another letter from within the envelope.
His face was now plastered in disbelief, disgust and he was even having a scoff in line to leave his system. Yet he proceeded to open the letter anyway.
He immediately recognized the seal on it. That of Hope's Peak Academy.
With that scoff finally being freed, he simply gave an overview of whatever they had to say, scanned the rest of the contents of the envelope, finding yet another check in it, and promptly got everything together on both his hands.
*RIIIIIIP*
He tore everything apart, uninterested and clearly offended by it.
*CLUNK*
Makoto sighed, shaking his head as he dusted off his hands. The torn-up letter was in the trash where it belonged, and he was ready to put the whole thing behind him. He turned back toward the house, his smile returning as he thought about finishing dinner and spending the evening with his family.
But just as he reached for the door, he heard it—a familiar, melodic voice calling out from down the street.
"Makoto! Hey, Makoto!"
He turned, and his face lit up like the sun breaking through clouds. There, walking briskly toward him with a grocery bag in one hand and a wide grin on her face, was her. Her orange hair bounced with every step, and she waved enthusiastically, as if she hadn't seen him in weeks instead of just that morning.
"Hey!" Makoto called back, his voice warm and full of affection. He took a few steps toward her, but before he could reach her, another voice chimed in from the opposite direction.
"Mak-k-k-koto! O-Over here Y-You!"
He spun around, his smile growing even wider as she came into view, this one carrying a stack of books and looking slightly frazzled but happy.
"You're back early!" Makoto said, his tone cheerful. He takes some steps towards her now. "How was—?"
But he didn't get to finish his sentence. From behind him, he heard the unmistakable sound of running footsteps, and before he could react, someone launched themselves at him, wrapping their arms around his shoulders and nearly knocking him off balance.
"Makoto-chan!" she exclaimed, her words muffled as she buried her face in his shoulder.
"W-Whoa—!" Makoto laughed, as they both were sent stumbling to the ground.
She looked up, showing her face to him. "Missed ya!" with a wide smile.
He reached up to pat her arm, his heart swelling with affection. "I missed you too, but—uh—?"
The sound of many… many footsteps made itself very present. Along with that, he heard a car engine or two breaking in, getting aware of what was going on.
"Hey, don't hog him all to yourself!" a loud, brash voice called out, cutting through the chatter like a power tool through wood. "We all have the right to a piece of our hubby! Back off before I start revvin' my engines and plow through this lovefest!" He heard her speak. Unmistakeably from anyone else.
"Ehehehe." With a low giggle, Makoto was freed from staying in the ground. Both him and her stood up with not much problem, but the luckster would be quickly circled in.
"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" He heard her soft and steady voice. Makoto turned to see her approaching, a bag of groceries balanced neatly in her gloved hands. Her eyes scanned him with quiet concern, already poised to offer whatever help he might need.
He chuckled lightly, as he dusted off his clothes. "No, no, I'm fine, I–"
"Did anything happen? Why were you outside?" Her voice was calm but probing, carrying that familiar air of quiet authority. Makoto turned to see her standing there, her piercing gaze already scanning him for clues. His eyes widened in surprise—both her and her were back from work earlier than expected.
Before he could answer, another voice cut in, sharp and edged with protective intensity. "Was anyone picking on you? Just say the word, and I'll—" The sentence hung in the air, unfinished but heavy with implication. The glint in her eyes made it clear she wasn't joking.
Makoto quickly interrupted her, not wanting anything dangerous to happen. "No, no! It was just the mailman, he forgot something earlier today!"
"That's good." The voice came from his side, soft and steady. Makoto turned to see her freckled face, her expression calm but her eyes sharp, always scanning for potential threats. It was impossible to know how he did it, but every new face he saw made his smile grow even brighter.
"Oooooh, look how defensive she got just now!" another voice chimed in, dripping with playful mockery. The second sister leaned in, her grin wide and mischievous as she nudged the first with her elbow. "Ready to go to war, eh? Someone's feeling extra feisty today, eh! You are so helpless…"
Standing a step behind them, her head tilted, thoughtful but slightly distant, her voice broke through.."I… I was going to say something b-but I forgot… Let me just…" She said as she tried to look for something in her purse. She wasn't… She wasn't sure what but…
Makoto laughed, his cheeks turning pink but his expression utterly delighted. The yard was quickly filling with voices, laughter, and the kind of chaotic energy that only they could bring. More and more of them were arriving—some on foot, others stepping out of cars, all of them drawn to him like magnets, each new arrival adding to the growing symphony of greetings, teasing, and affectionate chaos.
"Makoto, Makoto! I bought a whole dozen this time! You HAVE to try them out!"
"Makoto, how was your day? If you need any help, please let me know."
"Makoto, I brought snacks! We'll devour them together!"
"Ma-Ma-Makoto, I g-got something for you! I h-hope you like it! Don't hate me!"
"Makoto! It finally released! We can play it today! …I think…"
"Makoto, Makoto, Makoto—!"
"Makoto, Makoto, Makoto—!"
"Makoto, Makoto, Makoto—!"
The voices overlapped, each one vying for his attention, but Makoto didn't mind. He greeted each of them with the same warmth, enthusiasm and pure joy as if it was the first time they met. His smile never fading as he listened to their stories, accepted their gifts, and returned their affection.
By the time they all made their way inside, the house was alive with noise and energy. Makoto stood in the doorway for a moment, watching as the space filled with laughter and chatter. His heart felt so full it might burst, and he couldn't help but think how lucky he was to have this life—this messy, chaotic, and wonderful life.
As he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, he took one last look at the scene before him. The living room was packed, every corner filled with someone he loved. They were all so different—some loud and energetic, others quiet and reserved, but each one brought something unique to his life. And as he stood there, surrounded by them, he realized just how many there were. Too many to count, too many to name, but each one irreplaceable.
With a soft sigh of contentment, he joined them, ready to face whatever the evening had in store.
"So. What did I miss?" He innocently asked, gathering their attention.
And so… it began.
"WE MISSED YOU!"
This was the Naegi household.
Quite the unorthodox home, sure, but one laboured with compassion, trust.
And of course.
Love.
—- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —-
POPULATION: 29?
—- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —- —-
Hey! Here I come again, NOT updating an old story and publishing a new one anyways! Crazy to think that I still have like, 5 works with at least 3k words and… they are still not published or finished. And this one wasn't one of them.
So, for my birthday, I wanted to give you all this present! Today, February 25th of 2025 I get one year sooner to meet my demise. I can't wait!
Kind of a schizophrenic idea, but it gives me a story where I can actually contribute with the MakotoHarem tag, along with many more ships and crackships that are… very underrepresented… Whenever we get there.
I already have quite a lot of ideas for this story and Pikamario is being forcefully dragged into this. He won't write a word, but he's helping me out with worldbuilding. So basically the same as the HDS, but the roles are reversed. (I'M DOING MY BEST TO FORCE HIM TO CONTINUE IT GUYS, I SWEAAAAAAR Y-Y)
Anyways. With nothing much to say… Xiao Hong Shooo!