Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As her deft hands parted a sliding door, revealing wooden desks lined up in neat rows, she made her way into the classroom. Greeted by a rather loud man in white, she wasted no time as she quietly walked over to her seat, returning only a brief nod. She arrived ten minutes early, just before the passing period started. Punctual, as per usual. 

Moments passed as sunlight began to slowly paint the room with a warm, yellow hue. One by one, her peers filled in the empty spaces and alleys between each row of desks. Simple greetings became small talk, and small talk became conversation and would eventually meld into a cacophony of ambient voices that was quite normal in an environment like this.

Mukuro Ikusaba, however, was anything but normal.

She was tense, trying not to reflect it through the rigidity of her posture. Her eyes habitually scanned the classroom, nothing escaping her peripherals. Her ears, polished with refined sensitivity, seemed to pick up nuances and details that would often escape others. Restlessness made evident by the fidgeting and spinning of a pen at the tip of her fingers; a trick picked up during her time overseas. The random yet precise pivot of the writing instrument eased her nerves for the moment. 

She pressed her lips into a thin line, then exhaled. This was not easy. 

Her life as a civilian wasn't overwhelming per se. Well, the talkative people could be a bit much, and lectures were even duller than mission briefings, not to mention that she wasn't much of a conversationalist...

Alright, perhaps it was a tad much to take in all at once. 

But the fact remained that she hadn't been on home soil for quite a while. She'd still be spending cartridges, throwing knives, and tossing grenades in some unspecified part of the planet had it not been for the news that her estranged sister received an invitation to Hope's Peak as well. Otherwise, she would've disregarded the notion entirely. 

"...And that about wraps up this unit. Class dismissed!" A balding man with glasses announced, ending their first period.

She rested her cheek on her free hand, careful not to interrupt the pen's display at her digits. In the instructor's absence, the voices of her peers seemed to continue where they left off in the morning; incessantly talking about their weekend, the lecture, plans to hang out, and which 2D girl was the best. She hoped her tuned ears misheard that last part. 

A pin, or something that sounded like it fell to the floor, gaining her attention amidst the white noise. It couldn't have been any more than perhaps a quarter-meter behind her? Abruptly stopping the motion of her pen, her eyes darted toward the source, trying to confirm what she'd heard. An instinctual response, despite the lack of urgency or obvious danger.

And her eyes were met with...a decorative pin?

Odd but infinitely more pleasant than the (extreme) alternative she imagined. Her fingers snatched the shiny ornament with practiced precision before it could bounce a second time. She may be wary, but not jumpy enough to cause a scene over something minuscule. Nerves wound too tight were prone to snapping, and fortunately, she wasn't a victim of such a case; the same couldn't be said about some of her comrades and enemies.

"Ah crap, where'd it go...?" A voice, presumably from behind, said out loud. Her eyes mulled over to its owner: a shorter boy with a messy mop of brown hair.

"...Is this yours?" she asked somewhat belatedly, looking at the boy who stood behind her right.

"Y-Yeah, thanks a bunch!" He nodded as she placed the pin on his palm. Before she could look away, the boy asked a question in the midst of the silence. "Oh and, Ikusaba-san?" 

"Yes, Naegi?" She prompted. What more could he want? If he needed notes for the lecture, she wasn't paying attention either-

"Are you free for lunch?" He finally finished.

"Do you need me for something?" She assumed. She inquisitively tilted her head to the side as if to examine his question from another angle, regarding him with curiosity. 

"Would you like to join us?" Naegi asked rather bluntly. His earnest request left her momentarily stunned, silencing whatever she had planned to say.

"I-It’s no big deal if you can’t come, but ehm, I hope you consider it at least," He amended, his eyes swaying to the side in embarrassment. 

"I-I see," she replied rather snappily, silently berating herself for letting her surprise slip through her otherwise blank expression. "...I take it other people are there?" 

"Yeah, I think Maizono-san and Ku-Leon...?" He reckoned, seeming both unsure of himself and what to call the Baseball Star.  

Leaving his response to hang in the air, she faced toward the front as their second-period teacher stepped into the room. "I'll give it some thought," she answered. 

"R-Really? Thank you, Ikusaba-san!" He beamed, giving her a curt, shallow bow before shuffling to his assigned seat. " We'll be on the roof! " He added in a loud whisper. 

Mukuro said nothing as she rested her head on one hand, gazing out through the window. This was…new, she thought quietly to herself, in contrast to the audible sigh that escaped her lips.

••

"Haah...? Naegi invited you over for a little dinner date? I never thought he had it in 'em!" The girl cackled loudly, garnering the attention of some in their class. 

"It's for lunch, and it's not a date, Junko," Mukuro sighed in slight exasperation. "Two others are joining us." 

"And they're...?"

"Maizono-san and Kuwata-san." 

"Wooow, a double date for your first one? Kyaaaa! How adventurous!" Junko teased, earning her something akin to a frown on Mukuro's pressed lips.

"He's not—" She exhaled, then recomposed herself quickly. "What should I do?" She asked, not unlike a soldier awaiting orders from her officer. 

"Dunno, why're you asking me?" Junko replied, her attention mostly focused on a mirror she produced from seemingly nowhere, meticulously applying red lipstick. "You're the older twin, so act more reliable for a change." 

"Well, what are you going to do?" Mukuro asked curiously.

"I'm gonna see Yasuke-senpai~" she almost squealed, triple-checking her twin tails. "I'm gonna have soooo much fun bothering him, and you're NOT coming!" She added, pointing a finger at her.

"Eh? Then what-"

"C'mon, don't make me spell it out." She huffed. "Go hang out with Shorty and his friends. Stuff like this doesn't fall on your lap every day, y'know?"

Mukuro opened her mouth to argue but was cut off before she could get a breath in. "We’re not Siamese freakin’ twins, don’t hafta follow me my entire life." Junko reasoned, although Mukuro’s reaction–or lack thereof– caused her face to scrunch up into an exaggerated scowl. "I mean, it’s gonna be reaaaal gross when me and Yasuke start makin’ out and you’re over by the side third-wheeling." She continued, rolling her eyes.

"Junko..." 

"Oh don't lose your head over it, you'll be fine! Naegg's a doormat anyway." She assured her half-sincerely. Taking her phone out of her school bag, she began furiously tapping away, then shutting it off just as fast. 

"Oh, would you look at the time!" She grinned, dangerously bright as a bell sounded in the class and down the halls. Through experience or by instinct, Mukuro knew that smile was something not to be trifled with.

“It’s time for lunch…?”

“IT’S LUNCHTIME!~” Junko almost screamed, jumping from her seat.

Mukuro stared at her blankly. She figured as much.

"C'mon private, let's get you—urk—OUTTA HERE!" Junko said as she pushed Mukuro toward the entrance of the class, with some difficulty. "Godspeed, soldier! You're gonna need it!" The louder twin cheered with a salute, then shut the door in front of her, complete with the clicking of a lock. 

The older twin, now faced with a very literal barrier that prevented her from backing out, sighed heavily for probably the umpteenth time that day. Feeling the slightest twitch on her brow, she gingerly took one, two, three bated steps down the hall.

••

"Sorry man, got wrapped up in some stuff right now." The man apologized, trying to sound sincere but came off as dismissive. At least, it looked that way to Makoto as his antenna-cowlick-aho-whatever drooped over his face. 

"First Maizono-san, now you too, Leon?" Makoto lamented, hunching over. The taller boy responded by scratching an itch behind his head, only adding to his flippant behavior. "...What for?" Makoto continued inquisitively.

"I made plans with Ibuki-chan to help work on my guitar. Pretty sick, eh?"

"Ibuki- chan ? And you’re just telling me about this now?"

"H-hey, on the bright side, we won't bother your little date! You still got that lunch ticket I gave you?" Leon ignored, much to the Luckster's added dismay. 

"D-Date?!" 

"Just messin', but listen," he said with a strangely serious edge to his voice. "Don't get so nervous, you hear? I know I'm leaving you in the dust and all, so I'll make it up to you one of these days." Leon promised with an unexpected niceness. "Play it cool, juuust act natural when you meet up with her." 

"It's really not like that." The shorter boy deadpanned.

"Huh, really? Guess I was wrong," Leon mumbled, more to himself than anything. "In any case, you're gonna end up making yourself look dumb if you're all tensed-up like that, not that I blame you 'cuz she's scary as hell, " he continued to explain, whispering the last part out.

"N-No, it's not that I'm scared, but rather, er, I don't know how to approach her...? Like, uh, I want to get to know her, but-I-don't-know-how-to?" Makoto gestured, completely unsure of how to articulate his thoughts. "What if I mess up and things get awkward in class?" 

"You won't, you got me on your side."

"You sure?" 

"Jeez, you're such a pain in the ass," Leon groaned, rubbing his temple, then patted Naegi on the back. "You got this, stupid, so put yourself out there, alright?" 

"Why'd you have to call me stupid?" Stu—Makoto asked drearily. 

"Until ya stop being stupid, now that I spent a little too much time on pumpin' you up, I gotta boun-"

"WATCH OUT!"

An unfamiliar voice screamed out from the end of the hall, and not even a second later, something that looked to be a bottle rocket zipped through the hall at an irregular trajectory. The two boys only had enough time to look at the direction of the commotion when it flew past their heads, snatching the tickets in Makoto's clutched hands.

BOOM!

The ringing in their ears and the soot on their uniforms had a more poignant effect on the duo's disbelief than the residual heat behind them. 

"T-That didn't just happen, right?" Leon choked out, completely bewildered. 

"I-I…wha…?" Makoto sputtered, matching his shock. 

"Was that a firecracker? Can people even set them off inside?!"

"Why do you keep asking me?" Makoto cried, mildly annoyed. 

The boys slowly, mechanically , turned their heads behind them to inspect the point of the unnaturally large explosion, then at Makoto's ticketless hands, then back at the scorched drywall, then back to...

Yeah, no matter how many times they looked back, the tickets weren't going to return from the ashes. 

"J-Just my luck, eh?" Makoto bleated nervously, a hint of humor in his voice.

Leon, whose flame-colored hair now resembled an afro post-explosion, clicked his tongue and once again patted (slapped) Makoto's shoulder. 

"...Seems like I'll make it up to you sooner than I thought. Y'know Hanamura from Class 77?"

“Eh? Oh, yeah, Hanamura-senpai…” Makoto trailed off, recalling a rather unpleasant first impression of his senior during the first week of school. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what would’ve happened had he not refused all of his questionable ‘offers,’ if one could even call them that.

“Yeeeaaaah…well, he’s your best shot from here. Luckily, he owes me from last time, so just say I sent ya, alright?” Leon said with a rather wry smile, patting his hair back to form. Doesn’t look like Kuwata’s too fond of the upperclassman either, which was relieving in its own weird way.

“Not coming with me?” Makoto huffed out, knowing full well what his answer would be. He dusted his hair off as well, feeling around his head only to find his ahoge still intact.

“Can’t, I gotta go like, right now,” he replied simply, sliding his phone back into his pocket after a quick glance. “Any later and she’ll have me run another fifty laps around campus.”

“Wait, fifty laps? Around the entire campus? Isn’t that dangerous?!”

“Yeup, so I gotta go,” Leon declared as he shuffled away. “Don’t worry, I’ll be rooting for ya!” He added, waving his hands loosely.

Exhaustion, in the form of a loud exhale, snaked out of Makoto’s mouth as he saw the figure of the Baseball Star climb down the stairs.

Just great.

It was one thing for both Maizono and Kuwata to miss out on plans, but having to get food from one of the world’s greatest cooks/perverts after an inconceivable run-in with a firework was nothing short of absurd. The irony had not been lost on him; the rather unfortunate situations he kept finding himself in since he’d enrolled had led him to believe his title of SHSL Luckster had either been a misnomer or some kind of royally messed-up joke the school had in store. What did Headmaster Kirigiri see in him? Some talent this was. Maybe he should’ve declined that invitation letter—

Makoto found his palms clasped on his face, slowly sliding off of his cheeks. They stung, and he imagined they’d be a little pink if he could see himself. That was fine, he did that to himself after all. There’s no time for negativity, as he still had plans with one person. He briefly considered canceling, but he stomped the thought out just as quickly as it came. He won’t bail on Ikusaba, especially after inviting her himself.

“Alright,” Makoto finally breathed out, trying to psyche himself up. “You got this.”

••

As a mixture of confusion and curiosity swirled around in her mind, Mukuro reached the end of the final flight of stairs, and slowly grasped the knob in front of her. What was the rationale behind eating at such an isolated location? Why not a dining hall or an empty classroom? What's up with his shoelaces? She couldn't help but wonder, among other things plaguing her mind. 

It turned with a less than satisfying click, and a gentle push revealed an unusually pristine area, the edges lined with short metal railings, along with some vents on the far side of the roof. A calming breeze caused her black hair to sway, as the sun's heat embraced her. 

No time to enjoy the weather, however, as she was supposed to meet people here, people that weren't present. 

She narrowed her eyes as the entirety of the rooftops fell under her scrutiny. She hadn't seen nor felt the presence of anyone. Odd, they were supposed to be here, and there were no signs anyone has been here yet. Was this some kind of prank? That would probably explain why Junko was so adamant about making her go: stupid stunts like these were right up her alley. Either that or they got scared of her and ditched last second. Their fears wouldn't be completely baseless; the moniker of "SHSL Soldier" didn't paint the prettiest of pictures.

After another sweep of the premises, she decided to leave. 

Disappointed, both at her peers who may have stood her up, and at herself for having any kind of expectations, she turned around to leave when she saw a familiar tuff of mousey hair peek through the door window.

The door swayed to the side as Naegi walked towards her, completely out of breath and holding two boxes wrapped in cloth. 

"Sorry for being late!" the boy chuckled weakly. "I ran into a bit of trouble on my way here; my luck's pretty rotten today." 

He recounted the rather odd events that transpired earlier: a stray firework snatching away his tickets, asking for the aid of a perverse senior, and tripping twice while climbing the stairs. She couldn't help but stare absentmindedly at the soot-covered boy, dumbfounded by his apparent lack of fortune. How did he even get enrolled here? 

"A-Ah, sorry about that, I got carried away!" Naegi apologized, presumably for the lengthy explanation. "Did you wait long?" 

His question snapped her out of a trance, and her brain scrambled for the words to reply to such a simple inquiry. 

"No, but..."

"Hm? Is everything alright?"

"...Your shoelace is untied." 

Oh no.

She groaned internally. She knew she was bad at talking, but to this extent? Junko would probably howl in laughter if she saw that exchange, and that's assuming she wasn't already listening in one way or another. 

He looked down at his feet, then he grinned just as quickly.

"Oh, is that so? Man, today really isn't my day, huh?" he said as he kneeled down to tie his shoes. The way he naturally weaved the laces together into a triple knot indicated that this was a normal occurrence.

Mildly relieved that he thought nothing of it, she cleared her throat. "Are Maizono and Kuwata late as well?" 

"Ah, well, they said they couldn't make it." He stated, slightly crestfallen. 

"That's fine." Perfect for her, really. Any more than Naegi would probably be too much for her at the moment. 

••


“Is it really okay for me to have this?” Mukuro asked the boy offering her one of two boxes, puzzled.

“A-Ah, well, it’s lunch and well, y’know, I figured you’d might be hungry,” He stammered, miraculously avoiding tripping on his words too much. “U-Unless you’re not hungry, then I’m sor–”

“Oh, I see. Then…thank you,” she mumbled, gently holding the bento with two hands.

Admittedly he was right, judging from her salivating mouth. she briefly examined the weighty, lacquered wood. Plain, simple, and warm to the touch, with a matching pair of chopsticks sitting neatly on top. She felt an odd sense of anticipation, despite her unawareness of what it was that lay beneath the lid. Regardless, she cared little for what was inside, so long as she could eat. She’s used to running on fumes, not that she’d prefer that over a decent meal.

“I guess we can start digging in, then,” Naegi said, a little lamely. Settling into a seated position, his hand hovered wantingly over the bento’s top.

"Thanks for the food!" The boy loudly declared.

Anxiously, Mukuro lifted the top off her bento, revealing crispy, bite-sized chicken along with some rice and steamed vegetables. She never knew that food could have such vibrant, appealing colors, and the intoxicating aroma that wafted towards her was an invitation to gorge herself to her heart’s content. Is this what civilians normally ate? Could she even bring herself to eat something likened to a vivid painting?

"Woah, karaage?" Naegi's eyes brightened about ten more watts as he brought a piece of chicken to his mouth. His gleeful expression intensified with each chew, helping himself to more mouthfuls posthaste. 

"Try some, it's really good!" He exclaimed while chewing. 

Seeing his very evident enjoyment, she mimicked his movement, picking up a chunk with her chopsticks. 

She trepidatiously bit down. 

There was a satisfying crunch, and the swirl of flavors that followed were unlike any of the rations and MREs she's eaten before. It was juicy, tender, and crisp with the right amount of saltiness. A tart acidity danced along her tastebuds, complimented by a hint of sweet and gingery undertones. The white grains of rice were nothing short of soft, fluffy pillows, and apart from the light dance of furikake on top, their plainness felt to amplify the fowl’s flavor about tenfold. The assorted greens had also been steamed to the perfect doneness, with just the right amount of rigidness and oh-so-much flavor.

Her eyes widened with a pleasant surprise. Every bite was perfection.

Admittedly, she has relatively low standards for food—her sister would say nonexistent—but she was pretty damn confident that this was the best thing she's eaten in her sixteen years of living. It was difficult to suppress the smile that formed on her face as she shoveled more and more food in. 

They both ate quietly for the first few minutes. Thankfully, the initial awkwardness gradually subsided into a more bearable silence as they became more enveloped by the food under their noses, enjoying the slight breeze gently whistling past them. 

When she returned to her senses, the box in her hands had been completely cleared of all its contents. Not even a grain of rice was spared. Approximately two minutes and thirteen seconds since she took the first bite. Her sister would most definitely scold her for her ‘piggish’ and ‘unladylike’ behavior, not that she really cared at the moment. She looked up to see the shorter boy, face still buried in his bento as his antenna-like hair twitched in what she could only assume to be excitement. What’s up with that thing?

“Hm? Everything alright?” He muffled, gulping shortly afterward. There were a few grains of rice—three to be exact-–stuck to his cheeks as he returned the gesture, gazing back at her. “Is it not to your tastes…?”

“Nothing like that, um,” Mukuro twiddled her thumbs on her lap. “I guess I owe you for this meal.”

“E-Eh? Oh no, I wasn’t expecting any favors!” The Luckster wheezed, putting his hands up. “Since you took the time to come here, I thought I could get you something to eat, it’s the least I could do.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I guess this is more of a gift if anything.”

She went over the thought, then breathed out in defeat. “Then, thank you, again.”

“It’s no big deal,” he assured, cracking a tiny smile.

They sat in silence once more, accompanied by the frenzied clicking of Naegi’s chopsticks and the quiet tune of the wind that delivered a handful of stray sakura petals toward them, decorating the ash-white roof. After gulping down the last morsels of his meal—including the stray grains of rice on his cheek—he tipped his head upwards from the empty container, looking at the campus grounds through the bars of the railing.

“Oh, the trees are blossoming,” Naegi commented offhandedly.

Mukuro turned to peer over, watching the vibrancy from above. It wasn’t often that she gave any thought to the flora around her, in or out of the country. Nothing more than backdrops to more pressing matters. Under different contexts, however, they couldn’t help but stick out to her.

Blood-stained grass, singed trees, a lone flower she almost stepped on in the middle of no man’s land.

And now, bright pink petals floating away, supplemented by muted conversation and hushed laughter.

“It’s beautiful,” she mouthed, more or less inaudible to anyone, even her.

••

In the sea of the students that mulled about on the ground, Mukuro managed to pick out her sister, of all people, and her lover (?) Matsuda. She dragged him around by the hand like an excitable puppy, much to the chagrin of the Neurologist. The light dance of pink petals that floated near them gave their "date" a rosier, more amiable appearance than whatever oddities she presumed to be going on between them. Seeing the two, prancing around without a care in the world, pushed a question to the forefront of her mind. 

"Naegi-kun," she said, softly. The boy turned slightly when hearing his surname.

"Why did you want to spend your break with me?" She continued, slightly above a whisper. 

He didn't answer, not immediately at least. After a prolonged pause, he opened his mouth. 

"I guess... I was curious about you," he began. "But I also wanted to thank you for earlier today, with my pin." 

"It must be important." 

"Yup, It's a gift from my sister." He replied whilst adjusting his pin, now attached to the lapel of his blazer. "She gave it to me when I got enrolled, some sort of congratulatory prize." 

"You have a sister?" Mukuro asked, mildly surprised.

He nodded. "She's younger than me, but she's also taller, so everyone gets it mixed up." He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "She even said that she'll beat me up if I don't visit home once in a while." 

Mukuro felt her lips curl into a tiny smile. "Little sisters can be quite troublesome."

"Yeah, but even then, she's still my sister, and I kind of miss her." Naegi looked back toward her. "Do...you have a sister too?"

"Fraternal twin. She's slightly younger."

"What's she like?" He asked curiously.

"She's..." Few words could describe Junko, and fewer felt appropriate in this conversation. "...quite frivolous. Has an odd sense of humor. Opposite of me, I suppose. She can be overbearing, but I love her all the same." 

Understatement of the year. 

"You two sound pretty close," Naegi commented.

"Mm. We've only had each other for as long as I could remember." She said, more solemnly than expected. 

The Luckster's eyes widened for one or two seconds, then relaxed just as quickly. "I see, you must care a lot for her. You're a good sister." 

"Likewise. It seems you're close with your family." Mukuro stated.

"Ah, well, about as close as any other family," he deflected. "Though there was this one time. I think it was, er, junior high? She was in primary school then, but at one point I was sick, on my own birthday no less." He chuckled softly, perhaps to question his fortune as she had been. "So she literally dragged me from my bed and spent the whole day with me, just watching TV shows and playing video games with me while I was coughing my lungs out." 

"Is that so?" Mukuro stifled a rare giggle, covering her mouth with a slackened fist. "Even when she could've gotten sick?" 

"Yeah, she ended up getting sick herself." He said, his earlier laughter giving way to a more earnest, sullied smile. "She’s a bit annoying, but it's times like those where I'm glad to have her around, y'know?"

She nodded belatedly, somehow understanding the sentiment despite their wildly different upbringings.

"When I was about seven, there was a survival game at my school." She started, in tones so quiet it may have gotten lost in the air to anyone not paying attention. "One of the prizes was something my sister wanted for a while, but she didn't want me to go. Said I'd hurt myself, whilst throwing obscenities at me." She recalled with a wry smile, trying to remember what Junko had called her specifically. Of course, she only drew blanks. 

"A survival game? That sounds pretty interesting." Naegi blurted out, or something to that effect. "I'm assuming you, well, took part in it, right?" He asked, rather dumbly. It wouldn't be much of a recollection if she didn't. 

"It was fun, if a little simple," she stated matter-of-factly. "There were multiple events, the main one being an obstacle course. Surprisingly rigorous for a primary school, but that didn’t stop me. I ended up winning all of them by a long shot, and I got her the prize." She continued, with the barest hint of pride betrayed by a tugging feeling on her lips. 

"That’s incredible...guess they don't call you 'SHSL Soldier' for nothing." He said. "You've been pretty skilled ever since you were a kid from the sounds of it."

"Yes, perhaps a little too skilled." Mukuro thought aloud, breaking eye contact. 

"What makes you think that?" he asked innocuously. 

"Before I went to middle school, I was eleven at the time, I joined Fenrir, my organization." She saw the boy blanch as he tried to hide his shock. 

"T-That's pretty young," He stammered, slightly recomposed. "Was it okay for you to, er, enroll in such a dangerous profession like that?" He asked with caution in his words as if he was afraid he might step on a landmine. 

"Who knows," She shrugged with indifference. "My foster family, my sister. They never knew I left until morning." 

Naegi's earlier shock shifted into something more...beaten, if she had to put a finger on it. There seemed to be pity glazed over his eyes for a couple of odd seconds before he sighed. "I see. That sounds rough." He understated.

Mukuro didn't answer. Not immediately, at least. Her eyes fixated over to where her sister was located, this time sitting on a bench latching on to Matsuda. Her eyes felt glued to the ornament in her sister’s hair, a white rabbit more specifically.

Well of course it stuck out to her; she won that pin for Junko. She’s still wearing it too, after all this time.

“Sorry, I think I’ve said too much,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to burden you with all of this.

That was the expected reaction, wasn’t it? With any luck, he’d avoid her after this, not that she’d care. Maybe. Props to him for sticking around for this long, at the very least. He was right after all.

She was far too good at what she did.

Good enough to jump headfirst into a mercenary corp at an abnormally young age. 

Good enough to leave everything behind. 

Good enough to not say a word to her sister as she fled through the window. 

Good enough to ignore the letters that were sent to her. 

Good enough to convince herself that she couldn’t go back. 

Good enough to—

“It’s not a burden at all,” his voice roused her, pulling Mukuro away from that awful reminiscence. His serious expression seemed to add a couple of years to his jovial disposition, and only by looking at him, she realized her hands trembled uncontrollably in her lap. “This might sound selfish of me, and I understand if you don’t want to, but could you tell me what’s on your mind? I-I’m not good for much, but I can at least hear you out.”

However misplaced it may be, his concern felt strangely warm to her.

"Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Is it selfish of me to still care, when I didn't back then...?" She whispered.  

She slowly, almost timidly turned to face Naegi, their eyes locked, neither breaking free. She stared back, expectantly? She couldn't surmise exactly what it was she was waiting for in particular. In those hazel eyes, she saw something resolute gleam as his expression softened. 

"Of course not. She's family after all." 

"Even after abandoning her?" Mukuro almost hissed, pitifully brittle around the edges. The affirmation gripped her even tighter as the words left her mouth. 

Naegi was dead silent, the only signs of life stemmed from the slight rise and fall of his chest. His eyes flitted towards the ground then back to her. 

"I think...I think it's natural to feel that way, regardless if you have the right to do so, or if you’ve earned that chance." 

"I," she felt her breath falter, ever so slightly. "I don't think I deserve a second chance like that. Not after what I've done." Mukuro broke away from his gaze. It was a foolish thought, but it felt as if he could see right through her. 

"It's not my place to say for sure, I mean I'm not in your situation so I don't exactly know what's going on," He cleared his throat, abruptly ending his small tangent. "But er, I don't think it's about whether or not you deserve that second chance." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I-I guess what I'm trying to say is—'' Naegi paused briefly to catch another petal in front of him. "I think it's more important if you're willing to take that plunge, rather than to, ehm, agonize over if it was deserved or not, if that makes sense," he explained, releasing his hold. The freed petal fluttered past his head, joining a dozen others that wisped behind them.

"I see."

Silence, if not for the weak whistling of the spring breeze. A necessary quiet for Mukuro, who took the time to absorb Naegi’s answer. Nevertheless, she couldn't accurately gauge if it was an uncomfortable break or not. She decided it was the former. The way the conversation died was a bit tense, even for her. She could gather that much. 

"You know, I took that chance not too long ago." 

She didn't face him as she spoke, but she saw his ahoge perk up from the corner of her eye. 

"You mean, you talked with your sister?"

She blinked in place of a nod. "Found out she's invited to Hope's Peak too. Managed to get in contact and we met at the airport afterward." 

"If I may," Naegi shuffled in place. "How'd it go?"

"Uneventful, which is better than what I expected." She sighed. "But I wonder if she still resents me for it." 

"From the sound of it, she doesn't sound opposed to being with you again," the Luckster mused, cradling his chin. "I think that's gotta count for something, at least." 

"I'm not so certain," she replied. "Surely she couldn't forgive me that easily." 

"Maybe, maybe not," Naegi acquiesced. "But it doesn't hurt to try, right? Stuff like this, it doesn't happen all the time.”

He probably didn't know it, but his assurance felt...nice, for lack of a better word. Her stiffened posture, which she managed to maintain all this time, smoothened out in defeat. Her hands stopped fidgeting long before, and her uniform didn't feel so asphyxiating. She slowly turned to look at him, her own expression matching his softness, at least, as soft as she could manage without giving herself away.

"You might be right. Thank you, Naegi-kun." 

"A-Ah, it's nothing really!" He laughed nervously. "I-It just wouldn't sit right with me if I didn't help a friend out." 

"Friend...?"

"I-I meant to say classmate, but I guess I would consider you a friend unless-you-don't-and I er..." he sputtered into nervous oblivion. Mukuro couldn't help but note the stark contrast between the determined boy she saw earlier and this nervous wreck she was witness to at the moment. 

"I don't mind," she stated calmly, stopping him in his tracks. "A friend, hm." She mouthed to herself, tossing the concept around her head like dough. She knew what those were, but she couldn't recall the last one she had since Junko, if sisters even counted as friends. Her comrades at Fenrir couldn’t really count either; the occasional greeting or small talk did little to diminish their strict professionalism. It didn't help that the threat of death made sure to keep everyone at a distance from one another. 

The boy seemed relieved, as his ahoge-thing relaxed. Seriously, what's up with that strand of hair? She shook the thought from her head as his confused expression slowly gave way to a lofty chuckle.

“I’m sort of relieved to hear that, really. I hope I didn’t make things too weird for you.”

“You’d want to be friends with someone like me?”

A monster.

“Well, up until now, I didn’t know too much about you. Some in our class are pretty intimidated by your talent. Me included, honestly,” he said, so casually the admission took some time to process. “But, I’m glad.”

“...Why?”

“When I’m sitting here, talking to you, it’s like all of those preconceptions, those doubts fade away,” he answered, rubbing the back of his head as if to pick his words carefully. Once again his honesty had taken her aback, depriving her of comment. In truth, she was mildly envious of how transparent he could be. He wore his heart on those beige sleeves, or so she imagined her sister would say.

“I feel—no, I know—that you’re a very sincere, genuine person.”

He turned toward her, belatedly, nervously maybe. As his eyes slowly opened to meet hers, his lips fixed themselves into a small, slightly lopsided smile.

It was a minute, almost inconspicuous gesture that would normally go unnoticed, but it didn’t escape Mukuro. After all, she was anything but normal.

It felt strange, both the glow that seemed to emanate from the boy and the fact she was transfixed by such a simple expression. It was just another smile, like the others she's seen, although it lacked a couple of things that she was used to. 

Malice, suspicion, deception. All the smiles she's seen beforehand hid cruel, nasty dispositions behind a veil of honeyed lies and pearly teeth. 

But here, somehow, his was acutely different. 

It was what she'd imagined a genuine smile would look like, would feel like as his assurance washed over her, not unlike the soft wind that brushed her hair to the side. It felt foreign, but not at all terrible as she indulged in his sincerity for a couple more seconds. Too used to the abrasive winter, she supposed. She found it in her to return the gesture, attempting to match him. 

••

They spent the better part of their lunch gazing over the roof, watching the comings and goings of other students. The sakura trees that littered the grass along the campus were in full bloom, shedding their beauty like pink snowflakes gently cascading onto the earth, soon to be swept up by the winds.

"The view from here..."

He paused after initially breaking the silence, finding words that couldn't come to mind quickly enough. 

"...is pretty awesome, don't you think?" He remarked, turning towards her slightly as he finished. 

"Mm. It's a nice view." 

The wind seemed so much quieter compared to her soft voice.

Makoto continued looking down at the scenery like a spectator. He felt disconnected, yet utterly intrigued at the campus grounds that teemed with life. They probably all had special, phenomenal stories that lead them here at Hope's Peak. Tales of triumph and failure, all exciting albeit a little bit romanticized by his rather normal upbringing, he mused. Still, he couldn't help but wonder how they climbed their way to the top. 

He wanted to learn more about the girl sitting beside him, too. 

BZZT

A brief vibration by his thigh roused him from his thoughts. Did someone text him? He slid the phone from his pocket to read the notification. 

Leon: Yo where ya at? class already started 

Furrowing his brow, he checked the time. 

1:06 PM.

"Crap," Makoto said out loud.

"What's wrong?" Ikusaba asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Class started six minutes ago."

BONUS/OMAKE

A pair of hands hastily opened the doors to a classroom, where a boy and a taller girl poked their heads through the doorway. 

"Sorry for being late!" The shorter of the two yelped, his antenna-like hair twitching into a jagged shape. 

"NAEGI! IKUSABA! EXPLAIN YOUR TARDINESS THIS INSTANT!" Their prefect boomed, most likely damaging the eardrums of everyone else in the vicinity. 

"Apologies. We lost track of time." Mukuro stated, her face betraying no emotion. 

"Y-Yeah, sorry about that Taka. We were, um, busy. Yeah." Naegi excused, thoroughly convincing no one. 

"Make sure to let me know ahead of time! This is unbecoming of students like yourselves!"

"Cut 'em some slack man, it's just a couple fuckin' minutes late." A larger man with a pompadour scoffed. 

"TEN MINUTES LATE! THAT'S ALMOST A SIXTH OF THE CLASS, OOWADA!" Taka argued back. 

"Fuck kinda' stick's up your ass anyways?!" Oowada shot back, veins bulging unnaturally from his forehead. 

"Could you neanderthals spare me from your incessant yelling? I would prefer to read this book without worsening my headache." 

"FUCK YOU, TOGAMI!" 

"Alright, alright let's settle down," the instructor from the podium suggested, however, the tone of her voice left little room for argument. "Ikusaba, Naegi, please take a seat. I hope this doesn't happen again. And you two, please stop yelling." 

"I-I apologize for my insubordination! I shall atone by-"

"For fuck's sake, she just said ta' stop yelling." 

Amidst the commotion, they made their way back to their seats at a brisk pace. They've caused a big enough disturbance, best not to incur the teacher's wrath any more than necessary. As Makoto sat down, an arm violently snaked around his neck and rested firmly on his shoulder. He didn't even have to look to his left to know who the culprit was.

"Hey, hey! Why're ya late you player?" Leon ribbed in a hushed voice. "C'mon, what happened up there? Did you maybe—" 

"H-Hey, shove off!" Makoto grumbled. "It wasn't like that at all, and she can hear you!"

“Who’s ‘she?’ The teach or Ikusaba?”

“B-Both of them!” 

"Leon, stop bothering him for a moment!" A blue-haired girl huffed from behind the Baseball Star. "Sorry, Naegi-kun, we couldn't join you today." She apologized, dipping her head. 

"It's fine Maizono-san, really! You guys didn't miss out on much." He assured.

The bluenette raised a suspicious eyebrow, then quickly returned to her picturesque smile. "Hmm, I guess you're right. Something that personal shouldn't be shared easily." 

"Wha—!" Makoto's words caught in his throat as he forgot how to breathe. 

"Oh, so I was right."

"Shaddup, Leon!" 

As expected, he couldn't hide anything from her. Intuition his left foot, she could very well apply to be the SHSL Mindreader. 

"Still, don’t you think Ikusaba-san seems less distant now? I’m glad that Naegi-kun was able to reach out to her somehow," Maizono observed from her seat. "Well, the more the merrier, right?" 

"Okay, but seriously, what happened up there?" Leon deadpanned with a small grumble.

Makoto snorted out a smile as he turned to face forward, noticing the chalkboard was much fuller than it was some minutes ago. 

"Sorry about all that noise, Ikusaba-san. They can get a little rowdy." 

"It’s fine," she replied softly. "If you'd like, I'll join you guys next time," she said even quieter. 

Makoto's lips shifted into what he’d imagine to be a cheeky grin upon hearing those words. 

"Thank you." 

Chapter Text

Second year. No dice. 

The wind's cold bite sent shivers down the boy’s spine as he felt his face numbing down, little by little. Looking down precariously from this decrepit old rooftop, he could see normalcy sprawling about on the campus grounds. All in black, all talentless, and all a mere financial backbone to the acclaimed legacy of Hope's Peak Academy.

Hajime Hinata detested walking amongst that crowd. 

He didn't hate them, not at all the case. He wasn't one to look down on them, although he was ironically doing that at the moment. Their mediocrity, their complacency was bothering, if he had to say for certain. Why try for better when they're already at one of the best schools in the world? Even if they were Reserve Course, having Hope's Peak on a résumé would be like living life on cruise control. He imagined a good chunk of them subscribed to a similar view to that, at least.

How dull. 

Hajime wasn't like those rich kids who never put any effort into anything. At least, he'd like to think he wasn't. Not better, that would be arrogant. Just different enough to want more, to need more. Like for starters, he wasn't loaded with money. It was hard to get by since he enrolled.

He tore a chunk of his yakisoba-pan off with his teeth as he yanked his eyes away from the pavement below. This wasn't the time to be worrying about others, or what they thought. By doing so, however, he was met with the taller Main Course buildings. One in particular appeared to have a group of maybe four students blithely chatting away on top. The Main facilities overshadowed their own, not just in size but in architecture and cost of maintenance as well. Even the general mood over there reeked of sunshine and rainbows that were notably absent here in the jaded section of the campus. Perhaps that was their fate: nothing more than a footnote to talent’s extravagance.

I wish I was there.  

He pulled away from the view, sighing to the wind as he took another bite. Cheap, greasy, filling. Nothing crazy about it, honestly. He'd bet his left foot the Main Course had better food as well—

He pinched the nose of his bridge until it stung. Now was really not the time to have such a bleak outlook. He still has the rest of this year to make it. 

He can, and will become SHSL. 

"...Hey...Hinata..."

It’s technically possible for the Reserve to get into the Main, or so it was said by the staff. Not that anyone had ever done it before in the few odd years the school's Reserve System has been around. Those odds didn't look…all too favorable for him, but when it comes down to it, he wouldn't mind being the first. 

"Hey! Hinata!" 

Actually scratch that. If he was the first, he'd be making history. That wouldn’t be so bad. Great actually. How he would go about it was another can of worms to deal with—

"I SAID HEY! HAJIME!" The voice he had been trying his best to ignore had become unbearably loud at a distance he could only describe as worryingly close. Before he could turn around to face the perpetrator, he could feel the outline of a shoe violently pressing itself onto his back. He barely budged, but it was the action itself he took mild offense to. 

"Hey, are you trying to kick me off this roof?!" Hajime yelped at the girl, glaring at her. 

"So what if I was? Your fault you couldn't hear me anyways," the blond huffed, baring her teeth. 

"What do you want, Natsumi-san?" He asked, biting into the bread. 

"I was looking for you, dipshit, and here you are brooding in the middle of fuckass nowhere on top of this dusty roof!" 

"But why were you looking for me? If you're here to assault my ears you can turn around and go," he responded, wanting nothing to do with such an irritating back-and-forth.

"I was gettin' there, asshole," she snapped, clicking her tongue with a dash of vitriol. "I can't stay in a room full of the other Reserve chumps. On top of that, Koizumi swung by and Sato started gettin' real bitchy so I up and left." 

Natsumi paused, taking in a shallow breath. "You're bearable, got a spine at the very least." 

"Gee, thanks. And great work not escalating anything with her. One year really can make a difference," Hajime spat out, a tad more sardonic than he'd like. Natsumi must be getting to him.

"Fuck your sarcasm." 

"I meant it." Hajime dismissed her with a lethargic wave of his free hand. "Seriously though, it's been about a year. Maybe longer. You guys really need to stop." 

"I'll stop when she stops starting shit," Natsumi grumbled. 

"I'm surprised you two haven't even killed each other yet!" 

"I know right? I probably would have if you didn't get so bullheaded last year." 

"Don't remind me, and don't get any funny ideas." 

"Yeah, you were yellin' out loud in class," Natsumi laughed, with a familiar amount of volume. "Was kinda cringy, was kinda cool. Is there a word for that?" 

"Probably, not that I'd care to find it."

"Besides if it does come to that, I'll just have my lackeys do her in—" 

"That's enough! No one is going to die here, alright?!" Hajime hissed, brows furrowed, more so out of annoyance than anger. Judging by a lack of any immediate retort, it seems that his message had (hopefully) been made clear to her. 

"Whatever," she finally scoffed, flipping her golden hair.

Another gust of the spring breeze brushed Hajime's cheek as he took the time to wind back a bit. While not unwarranted, he felt he may have been too crass on her, even with her vulgar sense of humor. He pressed his lips together—violently so—before letting the air hiss from his teeth. Taking solace in the continued, awkward silence, Hajime finished the rest of his oily bread. Man, this thing can't be healthy for anyone. 

Somehow, he kept finding his sights drawn toward the Main Course buildings. 

"Look at them. Not a care in the world, eh?" The quiet spell had been pierced by Natsumi's remark. 

"Mus' be nice," Hajime slurred in between chews. 

"Yeah," she acquiesced through gnashed teeth. "Damn them, those carefree fucks." 

"No need to be rude," Hajime commented after a gulp. 

"I—We should be up there, instead of rotting in this dump!" 

"I understand, but that's not their fault." Hajime attempted to reason with a seething Natsumi. "Is that why you've been upset all this time?" 

"Th-The hell? No, just seeing them so happy pisses me off," she yelped, her face gaining a dangerous blood-red hue. Moreso out of frustration than embarrassment, judging by how tightly both her hands and teeth were clenched. 

"Trust me, some part of it bothers me too," Hajime sighed, crumpling the wrapping into a tight ball and storing it in his pocket. "We've been working our asses off, but we're not out of the reserve yet." 

"So you do get it." 

"Even so, we can't lose our focus. We'll get there one day.” He took a step back, glaring at the main buildings with ferocious determination. “No, we have to." 

"What makes you so sure, jackass? That's all we've been doing last year, and look where that got us! A fuckin' money deficit! Those higher-ups don't give a damn about us!" Natsumi blustered fiercely.

"Not sure honestly." He replied, sullen and somewhat worn out from her outbursts. He cradled his chin between his fingers, gathering a response together. "A feeling, I suppose." 

"More like wishful thinking.” 

"Regardless, I won't give up."

"I'm shocked you haven't yet; you ain't loaded like me or the rest of the reserve chumps." Natsumi moved to stand beside him, resting her arms on the rusted, flaking rails. "Yet here you are, somehow surviving the ridiculous tuition."

“Hey, I’m shocked too. My pockets are pretty empty nowadays,” Hajime quipped, hearing only a small chortle in response. 

She took a deep breath, trying to regain a semblance of composure. "You're serious about this, huh? About not giving up?" She asked with an unusual calm.

"Aren't you?" 

"O-Of course I am...!" Natsumi blurted out. "But seeing you push through somehow, despite your disadvantages, it really makes me wonder if my approach is wrong or something." 

"I don't think that's the case," he attempted to assure her. "Though, you should really stop worrying about those other people and focus on what's important to you...I think." 

He scratched his head, trying to find what to say next. Natsumi didn't seem convinced by what he had said, although tension seemed to be dissipating somewhat.

"Besides,” he started, still attempting to get his footing on the conversation. “Don't you have to catch up with your brother?" Hajime added with a wry smile. 

Her eyes widened at the mention of her sibling, causing yet another coat of red to shade her cheeks. Nothing like the dangerous crimson from earlier, if he had to wager.

“Sh-Shut up! Don’t remind me!”

“I might.”

“I said—!” She raised her fist, causing the taller boy to shut his eyes and clench his teeth on instinct. A second passed and Hajime blinked his eyes open, confused by the apparent lack of retaliation.

"Man, If you're trying this hard, I have no excuses huh...?" She relaxed, resting her arms and head on the railing.

"Alright! No more complaints!” She shot her head up, her eyes gleaming in decisiveness. “I ain't losing hope, and definitely not to you!" 

Hajime let out a sullied, whimsical chuckle. "That's the spirit. Though we should head back soon. Lunch ends in five." 

"Ughh...history...." Natsumi groaned, dipping her head. 

"I thought you said no more complaints?" 

"Sh-Shut up! I'm coming!" She growled, her assumedly angry stomping matched Hajime's leisurely strides towards the doorway.

•• 

"Man, I'm tired," Hajime yawned into his palm, feeling his eyes moisten. 

"It's just three more classes you wuss," Natsumi demeaned. "So much for tryin' hard.

"Who said I'm giving up?" Hajime grumbled, his grogginess amping up his frustration. "Anyway, this is the last time I'm letting you borrow my history notes." 

"Yeah yeah, I hear yah." Natsumi, in her absentmindedness, reached for the door unaware of another person in front of her, mirroring the action. 

"Guh?!"  

"Eh?" 

The initial confusion did not last, as both parties were reasonably well-acquainted with each other. Of course, it had been under hostile pretenses. 

"Kuzuryu...!" The dark-haired girl, Sato, hissed through gnashed teeth. Her disdain for the blond was ever present in her eyes.

Shit. Talk about a worst-case scenario. 

Hajime's exhaustion seeped out of his fingertips as they moistened with grimy sweat. The redhead beside Sato had her hand covering her mouth as her eyes widened, very clearly in distress. Koizumi, was it? It was clear that regardless of whatever history she may have had with Natsumi, she felt the same as he did.

They needed to stop those two. 

Hajime opened his mouth to say something, anything , but had been interrupted by the sound of sliding wood. He turned his head towards the noise to find that Natsumi had already entered the classroom. 

"Hell are you dawdlin' for? C'mon Hinata," Natsumi stated with an almost unprecedented calm. 

"Y-Yeah, coming," he stuttered as he shook his head, attempting to get his bearings straight.

One last look to the doorway behind him revealed an almost unreadable expression on Sato's face, and beside her, Koizumi sighed as the tension visibly left her. That was probably one of their better interactions, considering their track record. 

Hajime deflated in his seat, a prolonged exhale escaped him as a stout, portly man walked up to the front of the classroom. 

"Good afternoon, class. Before we get started I have a short announcement to make on behalf of the staff here at Hope's Peak Academy," their instructor stated, propping a haphazard ream of papers against the surface of the podium. 

Hajime rested his cheek on his palms, managing to stifle a yawn. Oh well, at least this will knock out a few minutes of class. 

"Count me out." Natsumi to his right seemed to have similar ideas, kicking up her feet and leaning back on her chair, much to the distaste of the students around her. Her apparent lack of reaction to the few odd stares around her made Hajime wonder if she really had been asleep, or is trying her best at ignoring everyone in the vicinity. 

"As of recent, the Headmaster of Hope's Peak Academy has made plans for a new curriculum specifically for those interested in the Reserve Course. While I myself am not privy to many of the details, It is said to be quite rigorous. For those who pass, however—" 

The teacher licked his lips as he stopped to take a breath.

"—They may become eligible to join the Main Course as a SHSL student." 

Hajime's head fell from his hands and crashed into the desk with a hearty thud. He sat straight up, drowsiness somehow wiped away. 

Did he hear that right?

"Wha—?!" Natsumi practically collapsed from her napping position, almost falling sideways off her seat. She managed to scramble back to a seated position, her mouth hanging agape. As funny as it would’ve been to see in any other circumstance, little reacted at all to her theatrics.

"Eh?" 

"Seriously?" 

"Is this a joke?" 

Guess they weren't the only ones that were taken aback. Waves of whispers and similar noises of bewilderment infected the room as the volume slowly rose. His eyes glossed over the rest of the class instinctually. The baffled expressions of the others seemed to blend in, but one—Sato's—stuck out. If not for her crazed stare and the tremors in her clutched fists, he would've thought that she didn't care at all for the news.

"There will be more information on the bulletin boards out in the hall, and for those interested, please report to the gymnasium in the Reserve Building after school hours. That concludes this short notice from the staff." 

The frenzied chattering resumed at the end of the message, interfering with Hajime's train of thought, or what was left of it after hearing the news. 

"Oi, Hajime," Natsumi turned to face him. "D-Did I hear that right?" 

"Y-Yeah, I think so, or I'm pretty sure," Hajime stammered, his confirmation was as equally shaky as her observation. 

"Then that means..." Natsumi paused as if to think. "...That means this is our CHANCE!" She yelled, throwing her hands up. The usual shrillness in her voice had been amplified by excitement, unluckily for those around her. Those extra stares did little to diminish her attitude, however. 

"Y-Yeah, I hear you alright," said Hajime with a wry smile. "It's almost too good to be true." 

"It better be, otherwise I'll mail the teach's organs to his family—" 

"Alright, alright, let's settle down," the instructor ordered, regarding Natsumi with an almost unreadable glare. Perhaps he heard her? 

"Anyway, turn your books to page seventy-three, we will be continuing our lesson on the transition from Heijo-Kyo to Heian-Kyo. Make sure you have your notes as well. 

"Ah crap, the notes!" Natsumi whispered loudly. Before she could turn to face Hajime fully, he already held out his notebook to her, eyes glued to the chalkboard. 

"Here," he offered. 

"E-Eh? Oh right, thanks."

"Make it quick though, I kind of need that." 

"No worries, I'll just snap a quick pic!" she beamed, whipping out her cell phone from her bag. 

For a split second, a bright flash of light enveloped the room. Most of the students now had their attention turned towards the source of the flashing, with low murmurs and snickers from a handful of the onlooking crowd.

"Kuzuryu...!" The teacher growled through grinding teeth, his rounded spectacles threatening to fall off the bridge of his nose.

Even Sato stared at Natsumi, with eyes filled with...disappointment? Sympathy? That's probably the closest they'll ever get to an understanding. 

"Hajime-kun..." Natsumi swiveled her head towards him, all twitchy and slow. The dumbfounded, pained smile she had said it all. "I think I fucked up." 

Hajime buried his face in one hand, trying to shake off the second-hand embarrassment from all the derisive looks. 

"No shit?!"   

•• 

"Damn that teach, makin' me stand out in the hall," Natsumi grumbled, nibbling her thumb. 

"You probably wouldn't have if you didn't talk back," Hajime rebuked.

"It was an honest mistake! Why should I get flak for that?! I didn't even know the flash was on." 

"Just be glad you got off with a slap on the wrist." 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's hurry up, my legs are killin' me." 

The duo managed to worm their way through the hallways, crowded with black suits and white shirts rushing to get home. Their footsteps blended with the sounds of maybe a hundred others, along with the odd conversation he couldn't help but pick up on. 

"You gonna try out for that stuff?" 

"Nah, I mean, is the Main Course really that much better? What's the point?" 

He didn't really have time to register the noise, as they soon came across the double-wide doors leading to the gymnasium. Anxiously, he reached out in front of him, opening the doors. 

Raucous chattering was the first thing Hajime noticed as he stepped in. Suffice to say, there were innumerable students present; he'd guess about seven dozen at minimum. Many were seated in one of the many folding chairs set up in clean rows, and others simply hovered around, conversing with their fellows. 

"Seems like they all got the same idea," Natsumi commented, a little louder than usual to keep up with the volume. 

"I wonder if that's a good thing," Hajime mumbled to himself. 

His eyes glossed over the hefty crowd, for no real reason other than to scout out the 'competition' he supposed. It never occurred to him that so many in the Reserve wanted to move up the ranks as he aimed to do. He foolishly assumed they were all affluent snobs. Or maybe they were, and they wanted more. Or perhaps they were curious enough to just hang around.

"Hey, you see any open seats around?" Natsumi asked.

"Not from here—Oh wait, there's two in the middle over there."

"Ehh? I wanted to sit near the back though." 

"You can keep searching if you want, I'm gonna go sit down." 

"H-Hey wait up, jeez! I've been standing around all day!" She cried out, racing after him. 

Very little happened after they sat down, save for the dying commotion as those around them followed suit, sitting down on their chairs. As the last whispers burned out, a dark-haired man stepped onto the stage of the makeshift auditorium. 

"Oi, ain't that Headmaster Kirigiri?" Natsumi asked Hajime beside her in a hushed voice. 

"Figures. He was the one behind this announcement and that program," he uttered back. 

Kirigiri stood stone-faced as he placed his hands on the surface of the ornate podium. After some respite, he opened his mouth to begin. 

"Good afternoon, students. As I'm sure most of you are aware, there is a reason I have decided to hold this demonstration." 

Hajime's attention remained undivided as he absorbed each word, one by one. He gripped the edges of his chair, anxious to hear more. 

"For decades now, Hope's Peak Academy has been spearheading the development and cultivation of talent, and by extension, providing hope in our future through our SHSL students." He paused to catch a breath. "But what makes a SHSL? Is it simply talent? Finances? Circumstance? I believe it to be much more." 

Considering that the school considers luck a talent, circumstance seems to be pretty important. Hajime bit back his retort as he listened in.

"Tenacity. Courage. Effort. These are the qualities of the finest of our students, and I'm sure many of you exhibit these traits as well," he asserted. "As such, we the staff have also decided to hold those willing to those same standards, so that they may also garner the same respect as those who have a spot in the Main Course."

"We begin with the Reserve Selection Program, which aims to select the few from the Reserve Course who have demonstrated their ability and willpower to have a title of their own. Not at all dissimilar to how we select the SHSL Luckster from the student population in Japan, however, no lots will be drawn. I will not allow for chance to get in the way,” he exacted.

"The reasoning behind the implementation of this special course was to allow for greater integration of the Reserve into the workings of this school, so that they too may have a chance at development," he continued. "The current Reserve system is frankly, unsatisfactory, and leaves much to be desired. Dare I say that the Reserve Course is fundamentally flawed." 

"Fundamentally...flawed...?" Hajime ran over those words a couple of times. 

"With any hope, this approach may just be the direction the course needs to further support our endeavors of Talent Development."

"So is he gonna go over how it works, or...?"

"I'm sure he will, Natsumi-san."

"The procedure: All students who have applied will be placed in new classes with accompanying professors. The material that will be taught, and the expected performance from the participants will be at a college level. There will be mandatory progress reports every week, and all aspects of your academics such as attendance, grades, behavior, integrity, and especially effort will be monitored closely for the most accurate assessment of your skills." 

The low drone of unintelligible, quiet voices took hold of the headmaster’s audience. Students turned toward their neighbors to converse in muffled tones as belated understanding eventually took its toll on them. The headmaster stood, waiting vigilantly for the murmurs to die down before continuing with his address. 

"Should any of these fall below a specific threshold, you will be dropped from the program, and you'll be replaced in your original classes. Your grades will also revert to how they were before you entered the program should you fall out. However you cannot apply for the program again for the year, you will have to wait." 

"That's gonna suck."

“Mm.” Hajime, still absorbing the information, only offered a terse, almost nonexistent response to Natsumi’s comment.

"Admittedly, this is not a perfect solution in our efforts to enrich the campus,” he expressed. “However, this is merely the beginning of a newer, better future not just for Hope's Peak, but for the country as well. I stand by the belief that the Reserve can also serve as a crucial support for the nation's sake, just as much as any SHSL and Ultimate out there.” ¹

Kirigiri stopped temporarily as if to brace himself. The contents of the announcement now boiled down to this decisive moment.

"If any of these conditions sound unsavory to you for any reason, I kindly ask you to please leave the room."  

His last statement pierced the atmosphere in the room, leaving nothing but a heavy silence. Seconds, or minutes passed, Hajime couldn't say for sure. After what seemed an unbearable amount of time, one, three, seven—no, twelve? Regardless of the exact amount, many students slowly rose and faced the doorway. 

A parade of stomping footsteps resounded across the gym as hushed grumbles and whispers permeated the air. Hajime couldn't tell if he was relieved or frightened at the sudden drop in potential competitors. At the end of it all, they were left with about less than half of their original numbers. Among the remaining crowd, surprisingly, was Sato. Strange, he had the impression that she’d be indifferent to such an event, not that it bothered him. 

"That concludes the first test." 

"...What?" 

Two staff members he did not recognize seemed to appear from nowhere, moving up and down the aisles. One of whom stopped by his seat and passed two packets of paper to both Hajime and Natsumi. 

"Now, if you could give me your undivided attention, and feel free to make annotations in these papers you've just received,” he invited. "You will not be turning them in, however, these packets will act as your syllabi for the program."

Hajime corrected his posture as he honed in on the man behind the podium. 

"Now, onto the finer details." 

••

If anyone at this point of the day asked how Hajime had been, confusion would be the first word that came to mind. 

The setting sun streaked the sky with a deep shade of orange as shadows lengthened across the grey pavement. Students and staff of all types stood scattered across the campus as many rushed to leave elsewhere. Hajime, and Natsumi beside him, were amongst the last of the students to leave the campus. Their steps were lethargic, but Hajime's thoughts were a nearly uncontainable chaos that refused to let him give in to mere exhaustion. 

"This is gonna be one hell of a semester," Hajime more or less deadpanned, following up with a hefty sigh.

"Complaining already? We still got the rest of the week," Natsumi chastised. 

"I know just—" He paused to glance at the concrete below for a brief moment. "Just psyching myself up. Can’t be any worse than cram school, right?" 

She looked at him, perhaps curiously, then returned her gaze upwards. "I kinda get that, really. Workload ain't as scary as the deadlines though." 

"Yup. Kirigiri's serious about testing our limits here." 

"More like testing the law. It's like two or three steps away from torture." 

"What would you know about tor—" He stopped himself short, recalling her background. "Actually, I'll trust your judgment on this one." 

He only received a derisive huff in response. Knowing her, and the amount of time he spent in her proximity, it most likely translated into something akin to an 'I told you so.' Nevertheless, something somehow ate away at him, a parasitical thought that couldn't simply disappear. 

"Well, I guess there is something that bothers me," Hajime mentioned to her, even if he figured she wouldn't care too much for it.

"What's up?" 

What did Headmaster Kirigiri mean by that? About the Reserve Course?

"It's that...The Headmaster never specifically stated how many would actually make it to the Main Course." 

"Huh. I thought the summer cramming was what bothered you. Or that wrapping in your pocket." 

"I mean it does—wait what's in my pocket?" 

"Yeah, like a wrapper you see on bread." 

"I thought I tossed that..." Hajime pinched it from his jacket and tossed it into a nearby trash bin they fortunately passed by. 

"But uh, back on topic, yeah that's pretty weird." Natsumi continued, hopefully trying to diffuse the earlier confusion and embarrassment. "Maybe more than one can make it? But that doesn't seem as likely. What if they got similar scores at the end? How do they settle it?" 

"Assuming it is possible for more than one winner, I guess it's not completely disadvantageous to cooperate with others. But then again..." Hajime rubbed his temple.

“Argh, this is annoying…” Natsumi screwed up her face, then wholly relaxed. "Oh well. We'll cross that bridge when we get there. Not trying to get a headache y'know." 

"Right, yeah. I shouldn't be worrying about that at the moment." 

Because something else is.

"Oh, this is my stop, I didn't even realize it," Natsumi pointed out with a vacant stare. "I'll seeya tomorrow Hinata. I gotta prepare my brain for this." 

"Mm. Take care." Hajime sent her off with nothing more than a languid wave of his hand. 

Readjusting his school bag, he turned to start walking another way when the sound of Natsumi's footsteps came to a curious halt. 

"Oh! And Hinata!" 

He raised an eyebrow, feeling no words come up. 

"Seeya at the top!" 

She flashed a cheeky, abrupt smile before quickly taking off. It wasn't one of her usual mischievous or sinister grins, either. Regardless, the gesture caught him off-guard, deepening his ever-present confusion. It was strange, but not entirely unwelcome how her tone sounded nice—or rather, non-threatening—for a good part of the day. A relaxing change of pace, to be frank. He let out a sigh as he saw her hop into an expensive car, pivoting himself to face another way.

With his thoughts clouded, he found his legs pacing automatically towards a certain direction as if routine. Well, it kind of was routine. He recognized where he'd been moving toward, perhaps a little too late but it mattered little. 

The gushing sounds of cascading water and the faint scent of chlorine were the first senses to register within Hajime. His eyes followed suit, guided by the running water spouting from the top, his sights landing straight onto a girl with a pixelated hairpin. 

"Afternoon, Nanami-san. Did you wait long?" 

••



If the events of today weren’t enough to dissuade Hajime from playing video games, Nanami’s mood might be the straw to finally snap his waning energy in half.

"Ehm, Nanami-san, is something wrong...?"

Dead air, if not for the running water behind them and the constant noise of bitcrushed sound effects from the handheld. 

"Are you upset with me...?" Hajime wondered out loud, more to himself than to her. His eyes shifted to the side, catching a small pout on the Gamer's expression as she pressed the buttons more violently. 

"Pay attention to the game," she grumbled. 

"Right—"

The 8-bit starship he'd been piloting in-game had been blown apart into a swarm of multicolored pixels flying out in all directions. 

GAME OVER

"That's it for me, I blew all my lives already," Hajime sighed, selecting the 'Quit to Title' prompt on his screen.

"Wanna try another game?" Nanami offered, without so much as looking toward his direction.

"Sure, let's try a Co-op game," 

"Do you have Deceased Galaxy III?" 

"Yeah. I'm starting it up right now." 

Hajime stared at the screen rather aimlessly as he waited for the game to finish booting up. The lack of any real progress on the load bar filled him with a surprising amount of annoyance as he began to disassociate his attention toward his concerns instead. 

The Reserve Selection Program and its unforgiving environment had been a lot to take in. He had to be somewhat thankful that it wasn't an effective-immediate start; he might've imploded from shock or stress, not that he'd have a shortage of that over the rest of the semester. 

"Dare I say that the current Reserve Course is fundamentally flawed." 

The phrase kept ringing in his head, an agonizing sound he couldn't quiet. What did he mean by this?

"Hajime-kun, you came in pretty late today." 

"Eh? Oh, right. I had an after-school assembly," he replied, scratching his head. "Took a while. I'm surprised you're still here." 

"I always wait here." Her response was soft but curt. "Hajime-kun, are you in the lobby yet?"

"Not yet. The game just finished loading," he explained. He didn't even notice, or rather, pretended not to notice that the screen had been on the main menu for the past few or so minutes. "I thought you had a dorm here." 

"I do, but I like playing with you. I thought you weren't gonna show up today." 

"Sorry. I didn't mean to waste your time."

"It's okay, you're here now after all, no? That's what's important...I think." She never looked up from her screen during the exchange, only running her fingers across the buttons. She hummed in approval, presumably from Hajime joining her in-game party.

The first couple of missions went without incident. It mostly consisted of scavenging for supplies, fighting space monsters, and getting lost. Twice. Well, there were a couple of eerie moments in-game, mitigated heavily by the presence of a second player. Survival Horror really did lose a lot of its touch when multiplayer elements were introduced, not that it was an awful thing at all.

"By the way, what was the assembly about?" Nanami asked, eyes ever-locked onto the display. 

"It was about—" Hajime redoubled his focus on his end of the game, mashing the shoot button frantically. "—a new program for the reserve students. It's called the Reserve Selection Program. Ever heard of it?" 

"Not really," she answered with some delay. "What's being selected?" 

"Headmaster Kirigiri's running some students through an experimental course to see if we can make it into the Main," he explained. "Ah, sorry, could you spare some plasma energy?" 

"...Sure."

Out of curiosity, he raised his head to see what caused such a belated response when he noticed her eyes and brow, furrowed into a flintier appearance.

Crap. Did I say something wrong?

He opened his mouth to apologize or say something, but his voice found itself caught in uncertainty. Exactly what was he apologizing for? Could he even be sure it was his fault at all? Shying away, he slowly returned to his console when her voice spoke in his stead. 

"Are you trying out for it?"

Surprised, he cleared his throat. "I am." 

"I see. Is that what you truly want?" 

Where is she going with this?  

"What..?" He questioned, very clearly puzzled. "O-Of course it is! It's kind of why I came here in the first place." 

"Mm." 

Hajime slinked into his side of the bench, wondering what could prompt such questions. She normally wasn't so provocative. 

"Hey, Hajime."

The lack of an honorific caused his hand to seize up, causing him to misfire in-game as the initial shock gradually subsided. Was everyone today just out to mess with him or something?

"Y-Yeah? What's up?" 

"Do you remember what we talked about here at this fountain? About talent last year?" 

"I do." 

"That's good...I think," she yawned, a tiny tear lining her eyelids. "I guess I just wanted to know why you want to be SHSL so bad. It's not everything, you know." 

"I know that already," he brushed off, his slight irritation from earlier wisping away, replaced by an understanding for whatever concerns lay within her. "It's just that, I want to do this. I want to prove that I'm more than just a face in the crowd." 

"But you're someone important to others, right? If you ask me—" She mashed the controller violently. "—You've proven yourself already, to your friends, to me." 

Hajime gazed at her, setting the handheld on his lap with a pained smile. "It's less about impressing others. I want to prove that to myself," he replied. "But, thank you." 

"Are you not happy with yourself?" 

Yes. 

"It's not that I hate myself, or anything like that," said Hajime. "I'm sure that I'll regret it down the line if I just never tried when I could have. It's an opportunity for me, so to speak." Before returning to his train of thought, he picked up the console and shot two more enemies. "And besides, If I pass I’ll get some of the Main course benefits, like reduced tuition. Seriously, my parents and my part-time job can barely cover this school." 

"That's good. Yeah, that's good to hear." Nanami whispered. Hajime caught a faint smile forming on her lips. "I'll support you, and your decision." 

"Why does it sound like I'm getting your approval?" Hajime deadpanned. 

"No, I just want you to do your best, no matter what," she spoke softly. "I've always admired that about you, how you always strive for more."

"R-Right, yeah thanks," he stammered, feeling a fleeting warmth on his face.

She turned to look at him for the first time. “But can you promise me something?” She asked in a low voice.

He met her gaze. “Sure. What is it?”

“Don’t lose yourself, okay?”

The request was soft, almost too quiet, but its impact much louder. Her voice blotted out every other noise, every other sound as it jarred his bones. She was deathly serious, even if he didn’t know how or why.

“...I won’t.”

“And stop running late.”

Hajime sputtered as a laugh wormed its way from his lips. “Is that all? I won’t, no need to worry.”

“Mm. Thank you,” she said with nothing more than a small smile.

It was strange, and he couldn’t even fathom what had pushed her to ask a promise of him. He decided he’ll honor his end despite it all, if for nothing else other than to keep that smile fixed on her face. He was sure she had her reasons, however strange or unorthodox as it sounded.

“Hey, let’s save soon, I gotta catch the train—”

Nanami cut him off with a yawn. "Hajime-kun, I'm...getting schleepy..." Nanami managed to mumble out before slumping over. (Un)Fortunately for him, his shoulder caught her head before it could land on the bench. 

"Hey now, this part needs both players to progress," he whispered harshly to her. He only received listless giggles in response. 

"Heh...you freeze up when I say your name but you don't react when I sleep on your shoulder." 

"It happens so often I can't help but think nothing of it." He mashed the reload button as several undead masses of flesh pursued him across the map.

"Hmph," she pouted.

Even while sleeping, Nanami kept up with Hajime in the game. She was incredible. All the more reason he couldn't stay where he was now. Complacency would end him, end his friendship with her. 

He didn't deserve—no, he was completely unable to stay by her side like this. 

"Hey...Hajime..." She whispered in her slumber. "I said your name...can you say mine...?" 

"I-I can't just do that out of the blue!" 

I can't. Not yet. 

"Say it...while I'm still...half-awa—"

She had been immediately cut short by her own snoring.

"Honestly...this girl..." Hajime grumbled to himself with the slightest upturn on his lip. Even after a year, she managed to find new ways to astonish him.

Taking his blazer off, he lay it on top of her sleeping figure. He stared at her face—while trying to ignore that comically large snot bubble—for an odd few seconds before slinging his bag over the shoulder. 

"Sorry, Nanami-san. I couldn't call you by your name after all." 

His lament was met with soft snoring. 

"I probably won't have too much time to see you once I'm in the program, so I apologize for that too. I'll try to set aside time for us when I can." He continued to speak as he rummaged around his bag, looking for his boarding pass.

It felt strange talking to someone sleeping, but at the moment he felt as though he could finally say what he needed to in this way. Was that creepy? He shook the thought out. 

"I'll pass this course, and we'll play again like we used to. I won't be some reserve student when that's over, though." He vowed to her, to himself.

He breathed in, then exhaled sharply. "I'll have the courage to stand by your side for real when that time comes around. Until then..." 

He took one last look behind him, watching as Yukizome scurried over from the main building to pick up the snoozing gamer.

"I'll see you soon, Chiaki." 

Chapter Text

Man. Math really, really sucked.

Makoto Naegi squinted at the chalkboard, trying to make sense of the archaic runes strewn across the green, flat sheen. He scratched his ahoge, which had seemed to gain a strange elastic or springy quality to it. Not an impressive extra appendage compared to something like a third eye or an extra limb, the former of which would surely send the class moron Hagakure into shock.

Well, to be fair, any extraneous body parts would be off-putting for anyone here. Despite their eccentricities, they were all human. 

He reclined into his seat with a hefty sigh. No matter how hard he tried, reading the different variables and formulas on the board had done naught but confuse him even more. Might as well hire a professional translator to interpret sine, cosine, and tangent into a feasible concept for him to wrap his head around. 

Wait, isn't that exactly what a teacher's supposed to do? 

"Hey, Naegi! Maizono-san! And er, Ikusaba was it? Check it out!" 

Makoto found himself snapping himself from a half-trance upon hearing his name. Peeling away from the board and to his right, he saw the Baseball Star Leon brandishing four lunch tickets with his fingers.

"Woah, How'd you get your hands on four of these?" Makoto asked, eyeing each of the beige papers in Leon's hands. 

"It was easy, man," Leon stated with familiar smugness, puffing his chest out. "I asked." 

"Wait, that's it?" Makoto muttered, somewhat disappointed. He felt his face droop down slightly and caught a glimpse of Leon regarding him with a similar expression; his mild disdain aimed towards the Luckster instead.

"Who gave them to you, Leon?" Maizono from behind asked, brushing her hair behind her ear. 

"Dunno the name, but some upperclassman just passed them along to me," Leon revealed. "Actually, now that I think about it, I never even asked. He just kinda… gave them to me." 

"Well, in any case, they don't look to be fakes, so that's pretty cool." Makoto noticed as he tried to peer over from his seat to get a better look. Of course, his stature made that a feat in itself to accomplish. 

"The hell would anyone gain for making and giving away fake tickets, Naegi?" Leon grumbled.

"Hey, hey! Just making sure! It's not often someone just gives you a 500 yen ticket, let alone four of them." Makoto implored, hands held up. 

"Are the tickets for anything specific?" Maizono interjected. 

Each of them pinched a ticket, and Makoto scanned over the print on the off-white paper. 

¥500 MEAL ADMISSION 

Valid for:

1 Spicy Mapo Tofu Entree

1 Beverage 

"Mapo… tofu?" Ikusaba pondered aloud, gazing fervently at the slip of paper. 

"Can't say I've had that one before," Makoto remarked. Then again, he hadn't stepped too far out of his comfort zone in regard to food since the term started. 

"Of course not, dude, you always get curry udon whenever I don't treat ya to Hanamura's cooking," Leon snapped.

"Nothing wrong with curry, right? I mean, have you ever tried Mapo Tofu?" Makoto pointed out.

"Nope." 

"Well, I've heard of an odd rumor about this particular meal," Maizono chimed in. "Apparently, everyone who ate it ended up in the hospital due to how spicy it is," she added in her usual, cheery demeanor.

"People spread rumors about food?" Leon raised an eyebrow.

"First I've heard of it, though I do know Mapo Tofu's pretty hot. Sounds pretty scary if it can send people to the ER." Makoto himself commented, incredulous at Maizono's claim.

"Come to think of it, I heard someone talk about some kind of entree using military-grade chili," Leon commented, rubbing his goatee. "Ya think it's the Mapo Tofu dish right here?"

"Military grade... chili?" Ikusaba mumbled, perplexed judging by the slight tilt in her head. 

"Eh, they're just rumors. Exaggerated as hell, most likely," Leon asserted. "I mean, there's no way they'd let weaponized spices into a government-funded school, right?"

"Eh? But they let me keep my weapons on campus." Ikusaba mentioned in an innocuous tone, despite the rather questionable statement. 

"Wait, seriously?" 

"Never mind that," Makoto interjected, hoping to steer the conversation back on track. "Is anyone seriously considering this? The rumors and stuff?" 

"Hah? Whaddya mean?" Leon asked, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms.

"What I'm trying to say is—" Makoto cleared his throat and glanced at everyone in their circle. "—Should we still eat this?" 

None of the four spoke up as Makoto addressed what he believed to be the proverbial elephant in the room. Of course, he was met with a strange agonizing silence for a couple of odd seconds. 

"I think we should!" Maizono piped up. "It's nice to try something new every once in a while!"

"Yeah, you a chicken, Naegi?" Leon jeered between fleeting chuckles, garnering a scoff from the boy in question. "But hey, with all this infamy floating around, I don't think it's right we toss these tickets." 

"What do you mean?" Maizono asked, although judging by the slight smile on her lips, she probably meant she knew what he was on about.

"Let's have a challenge." Leon declared with a wry, evil-looking grin.

"Let me guess, we're gonna eat it?"

"WE'RE GONNA EAT IT, BIG MAC!" He affirmed, rather stupidly.  

"I figured as much," Makoto groaned.

"Yuh huh, and the losers have to be on cleaning duty for the rest of the week!" Enoshima chimed in from nowhere with an irritating sing-song inflection in her tone. 

"Woah! When and where the hell?" Leon raised an eyebrow with a strange calmness to his reaction. 

"Been listening in the whole time! Sounds fun!" 

"I like the enthusiasm!" Leon snapped his hands into finger guns. "But we only got four tickets."

"Aww what? Bummer..." The blonde whined in a very-obviously faux disappointment. "I wanted in on that." 

"Nee—" Ikusaba cut herself short as Enoshima shot her a piercing glare, colder than the blue in her eyes. 

Ikusaba cleared her throat. "Enoshima-san Do you want my ticket—" 

"Nyoooope! I lied!" Cut off again. "I just wanted to see your reactions when you eat them. I don't actually care if I get one or not." 

"Evil. I like that," Maizono sang with a contrastingly cheery demeanor, erring Makoto to his bones. 

"Y'know, on second thought..." The taller boy fidgeted with a piercing on his left ear, eyes turned away. 

"You a chicken, Leon?" Makoto mocked.

"I—You—" he sighed as his glare on the shorter boy weakened. "Nope. Let's do it." 

Makoto chuckled in derision. "That settles it." 

"For now though, let's decide who's gonna get the food and drinks," Leon commented shortly afterward.

"We're not gonna get it together?" Ikusaba puzzled.

"Someone's gotta save our spot! We got locked out when we came in late last time, remember?" Leon raised his voice, attracting some unwanted attention from across the class. 

"We wouldn't have been late if you didn't go back and forth across campus to talk to a girl," Makoto deadpanned with a similar volume. There were more eyes on them now, it seemed. "I won't lie though, that's a lot to carry." 

"Rock-paper-scissors? Two losers grab the stuff and meet us on top, sound good?" Leon proposed, sounding... oddly reasonable for once this week. 

"Aye aye captain, I got it." Makoto sighed with a dryness that left even himself astonished. 

"Alright, let's start. Enoshima-san, you want in on this?" 

"Naaah, you guys can take care of it. I got something to do first!" She beamed in a deceptive-looking Cheshire grin. 

"Alright then," Leon said as he turned away from the fashionista, readying his palms. "You guys ready?"  

"Yup!" 

"Set."

"Mm." Ikusaba was the last and quietest to confirm. 

"Let's go! Jan—!"

"—Ken—!" 

"—Pon." 

At the last syllable, all four shot out their hands with a surprising amount of synch. Makoto would've gone over his options a bit more closely, but it wasn't too big a deal. It's not like he was gambling his life, right? 

He glanced at the others. Leon's had his fingers shaped into scissors, Maizono had two of her fingers splayed out in a similar manner, and Ikusaba had also chosen—

Wait, what the hell?

"Ain't so lucky now, huh?" 

Leon's voice provided little confirmation that the Luckster hadn't already figured. Who would've thought the odds against him were this bad? 

"Sorry, Naegi-kun!" 

If Leon's jeering was a slap to the face, Maizono's sickly sweet apology felt like a pillowcase of bricks dropping from above and straight onto his cranium. At least Ikusaba gave him the benefit of shamed silence. 

"Why does it feel like I'm getting ganged up on...?" Makoto deflated, dipping his head and his ahoge drooping further.

"Alright round two!" Leon took this opportunity to continue without him. "Jan—!" 

"—Ken—!" 

"—Pon." 

This time both Maizono and Leon had their hands laid out flat, imitating paper, while Ikusaba held out a closed fist. Someone there had to be cheating, Makoto thought, not that it would matter if he said anything about it. 

"Ah. I lost," Ikusaba stated plainly, tilting her head with no apparent reaction.

Leon turned to face Maizono. "How'd we keep choosing the same thing?" He raised an eyebrow as he scratched the back of his auburn head. 

"You got lucky Leon. As for me, I'm an esper!" The bluenette giggled behind her hand. 

"Starting to believe that as the days go by," Leon mumbled almost inaudibly, although Makoto picked up on the admission. "Well, a deal's a deal! You two gotta go grab the grub!" 

"And meet you guys up there?" Makoto asked.

"Mhm!" 

"Understood," Ikusaba replied curtly, with a strange bit of professionalism in her tone.

The automated tune of a digitized bell soon reverberated throughout the halls and inside the classroom, signaling the end of their current period and the start of a much-needed break. One could only process so much math before shutting down, Makoto mused. Like clockwork, their peers rose from their desks and chattered their way to the now-open doors.

"Speak of the devil,” said Leon, stroking his goatee with a satisfied look on his face.

“—The hell do you mean I gotta stay in here?!”

Leon’s expression had been replaced with something troubled as he swung his head over to the source of the noise: the yelling pompadour near the chalkboard.

“Because you have refused to do any of your work this past week! You should be ashamed of your conduct, Oowada!” The prefect, Kiyotaka, yelled back.

“Screw you, I’ll do them later.” Veins bulged from the Biker’s forehead as he flushed a dangerous red, leaning closer to the darker-haired student. “I’m. Leaving. Asshat.”

“You. Will. Not!” 

They stared daggers at each other as either party refused to back down. A sight that should have raised much more concern from their classmates had only grown to be just another regular occurrence in their school life. A bit disconcerting, but no one barring an odd few cared this far in the semester.

"—Alright!” Leon yelped, taking the attention away from the animosity. “You guys know what to do! Don't take too long y'hear?" Leon reminded as he sunk deeper into his desk, Maizono slowly waving from behind. 

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry," Makoto lamely replied, before noticing his 'partner' had already taken off. "Ah, wait up Ikusaba-san! You're fast!" 

"Sorry." Her response was terse, but far from cold.

"It's okay! Impressive actually!" Makoto blustered between pants. "One of your strides are like three of mine." 

“Oh! And grab me a cola, will ya?!” A voice called out after them, which he presumed to belong to the Baseball star. 

“One Rose-Hip tea, please!” Another request from Maizono this time. 

“Sure thing,” Makoto replied without turning around, barely registering the voices. “And please don’t fight, you two!” He called out to a much louder pair near the door; a request that fell on deaf ears, judging from their more violent outbursts. Can’t blame a guy for trying.

Finally catching his breath, they began descending the first of many flights of stairs. Curse this heavily-funded school, why does it need so many floors? Had he gone alone, this task would've been anywhere from mildly annoying to absolutely infuriating depending on how lady luck felt that day. 

However, with Ikusaba-san...

He turned to look at the taller girl. Her face had been completely impassive for the past ten or so minutes, perhaps longer than that. Despite all of that, he had a strange hunch about the day. About her.

... I think I can manage.

•••

There he went. 

Leon watched from inside the classroom with an almost uncharacteristic silence as both—or rather one of his classmates ran after the other—down the hall and toward a flight of stairs. It was strange, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation, watching the shorter silhouette disappear from beyond his rather limited field of vision. 

"Ya think they'll be alright?" He voiced his very, very mild concerns aloud, or not that loud. Just audible. Yeah, that's the word. 

"It's not like you sent them towards danger, have you?" She asked, slowly standing up from her desk as the echoes of the bell died and gave way to the cacophony of other students milling about their break time. 

"Nah, nothing like that… I think," he answered, scratching the back of his head. "I'm just sayin' Naegi's luck can be a real pain sometimes." 

"Like that time with the exploding cola..." 

"Or the fire alarm..." Leon added whilst fidgeting with his goatee. "Yeah, Naegi isn't walking into danger, he IS the danger." 

"Ikusaba-chan's with him, there's nothing to worry about," Maizono assured.

Leon raised a suspicious, teasing eyebrow as he looked at her. "Were you gunning for this?" 

"Whatever do you mean?" She asked, coyly twirling a lock of hair between her fingers. 

“Can’t really think of any other reason you’d win so easily,” he mused. "I didn't think you'd play matchmaker." 

Sayaka giggled. "I think you're the only one who sees it that way. Maybe I didn't feel like running your errands.” 

Leon snorted. "Maybe," he stood up real smooth-like, dusting his lap off from any strange foreign stuff that might tarnish his picturesque image. "Any reason you chose to win on purpose?" 

"Hmm..." She curiously put a finger to her chin as she looked towards the ceiling. "No reason!" 

"Liar!"

"Eheheh, I do wonder~" A nefarious giggle escaped her as she timidly adjusted her hairpin. "In any case, there's no need to worry." 

"Right..." Leon trailed off. Incredulity couldn't even begin to describe how he felt at the moment. He decided not to dwell on the thought for too long, lest he suffer a headache. "Wanna head up?" Leon gestured toward the stairs, or at least to the other door behind him. Close enough.

"I was just thinking the same thing." 

"Yeah, this works out for me too, ‘cause I wanna talk to you about something," Leon added before his memory could fail him. Even people like him had flaws, as shocking as it sounded.

"Oh? You mean playing with me and my bandmates?" She asked, more so to confirm than out of curiosity.

"Ah, so you know? Don't gotta explain things as much." 

"I'm an esper, after all—" 

"Who could've seen that line comin'?" Leon quipped, pushing the sliding door to the side. "After you." 

"Why thank you," She said in a tone that Leon couldn't exactly tell was sarcastic or sincere. He decided the latter.

"Eh, don't mention it. Now anyway..." 

•••

"Watch out." 

"Eh—Waugh?!" 

Mukuro's hands shot out in front of her before her words did, grabbing the shorter boy by the scruff of his blazer and yanking him back with little effort. She didn't know what caused him to fall, not yet anyways. Her eyes darted around, curiously catching onto his red sneakers. 

"Are you okay?" Her calm demeanor contrasted greatly with Naegi's panicked tenseness. 

"Y-Yeah, thanks," he stammered, gazing toward the landing he almost face-planted into. Approximately twenty steps down. "Looks like I tripped on my laces again, ahaha..." 

"That tends to happen a lot," she stated simply, confirming the cause of his rather untimely slip.

"I could've sworn I tied it correctly," Naegi mumbled.

"Mm." 

She was by no means dismissive of his claim. She saw him knot his shoes earlier, after all; thrice before this in fact. It struck her as odd how often this happened to the boy, and that's not even including the other bouts of strange misfortune that seemed to plague the boy at every turn. Perhaps his luck was the real article, sick and twisted it may be for him.

"Oh and er… you can let go now." 

His voice snapped her from high alert and back to reality. She released her hold on his collar, but not before checking his feet to see if he had regained his footing. 

"Sorry." Apologies felt like automatic responses whenever she spoke with Naegi. 

"No, It's okay! I should be thanking you, if anything," He effused, exerting more caution in each step as they continued down the flight of stairs. Once on the landing, Naegi took the time to retie his laces for the fourth time that day. 

As Mukuro rounded the corner, still closely behind Naegi should anything happen again; she surveyed the dining area, much more bereft of people compared to every other day she's been here.

"Woah, there's not a lot of people here at the moment, huh?" Naegi exclaimed as he looked up from his foot, effectively voicing her thoughts out loud. "Guess we made it here pretty fast."

"Mm," she confirmed wordlessly. "We won't have to wait long." 

"C'mon, let's hurry to the line before it crowds up!" Naegi gestured towards the far end of the hall, beaming all the while. 

Almost like an excitable animal, he led her toward the rather short line at a faster-than-usual pace. From their spot, it appeared that only three or four more were ahead of them, this shouldn't take any more than perhaps seven minutes at maximum.

"Let's see, we're all getting the same meal, and er, the drinks..." The shorter boy trailed off. "The drinks... Oh crap, what was it again...?" His eyes widened to an almost comical degree as he reached toward his pocket, presumably where his phone had been tucked.

"Two waters, one rose-hip, and one cola," Mukuro recounted in a mechanical fashion, using her fingers. 

His hand froze, then he pulled his fingers away from the pockets of his slacks. "Oh, right," He said dumbly. "How'd you remember?" 

She shrugged. "I'm used to memorizing orders, I guess." 

"I see," he replied simply, with a slight puzzlement in his voice.

Naegi looked down, then around the room as he fidgeted with his hands with a somewhat dazed or lost expression. If she had to guess, it was like he wanted to say something, but something stifled the words, or at least the sentiments behind them judging by how his eyes avoided hers. 

She wasn't exactly very interesting, so the awkwardness came as no surprise to her.

With shifty eyes, he abruptly stopped fumbling around with his fingers, opting to shove them into his pockets. "Have you been adjusting well here? At this school I mean," he asked.

She fully expected him to break the silence, yet she did not reply immediately. "More or less," she replied. "I think I'm still going through the motions." 

"I see, that's good to hear." He wore no smile as he spoke, but she could feel the sincerity in those words; if she knew what that was, anyhow. "I just hope school hasn't put too much pressure on you since you've come back." 

"Nothing I can't handle," She shrugged in a softened manner, not exerting more effort than necessary. "I've had worse thrown at me." 

Naegi chuckled. "A bit of an unfair comparison, don't you think?" 

"Perhaps you're right," she acquiesced. "Class can be quite boring." 

His expression broke out into jovial, lucent laughter, although it wasn't quite as loud compared to the amalgamation of voices around them. "You got that right," he agreed weakly, shoulders slackening as he gazed at the ceiling. "I can't help but wonder though, do you... like it here?" 

The way his eyes wandered around as he rubbed his chin led her to believe he had chosen his words with care. Probably. She wasn't great at reading emotions or the thoughts of others.

"It's..." She, too, scrounged for the right words to say. "...A strange place. Different from what I'm used to." 

He looked at her with an almost childlike curiosity. 

"But I don't dislike it." 

He smiled as he turned away from her to face the attendant over the counter. "I feel the same way. This school's nothing like my old one." He handed over the four vouchers and held up four fingers with the other hand. "To be honest, I'm not too sure if I'm a good fit for this school." 

"Is that so?" 

"Yeah. Everyone here is incredible, and there's me, I guess," he deflated, heaving a small sigh. 

It wasn't like he was wrong. By all means, he seemed out of place in this environment. No more than she was, however. She could empathize with that. With him.

"I understand," Mukuro answered softly, with a firmness even she did not completely understand.

"R-Really?" 

She nodded. "I'm still wondering if I made the right choice enrolling here." She paused to gesture her order to the other attendant across from her. "It'd probably be easier if I ignored the invitation, no?"

"What makes you say that?" He asked with an expectant, soft gaze.

"Would it be strange to say I feel as if I didn't fit in as well?" She responded with a question of her own. 

"No, not at all!" He assured, or attempted to do so. "But, I think you're amazing! You've definitely earned your place here at this school." 

"And you?"

"Eh... Just dumb luck." Naegi waved her off. "I think I'm just taking up space from people who actually deserve to be here." 

"Regardless, you took that chance, no?"

"Yeah, but it was for a pretty selfish reason. The benefits were enticing." 

"Nothing inherently wrong about jumping to opportunities." She pointed out, a slight irritation rising from his insistence. "You said something in a similar regard last time, remember?" 

His eyes widened at the reminder but shrunk just as fast. "I guess you're right, but I can't help but feel like I'd be better off in a normal school while someone with actual talent had my place instead." 

Mukuro hummed in agreement. "Things may have been simpler if I continued my military career."  

"Maybe, but I think it's brave of you to, ehm, come here as a student." 

"Why's that?" 

"It takes a lot of courage to try something out of your comfort zone—" He grunted at the heft of four bentos weighing against his arms. "—At least in my opinion." 

"That makes two of us, then." She didn't take her eyes off the struggling boy as she received her part of the order. 

"... Ah. Now that you mention it, I guess we're in the same boat, huh?" 

"It would appear so," she stated simply, hiding a small, fleeting relief from her tone, giving the false impression of impassivity. 

"WATCH OUT!" 

"Watch wha—" 

A relief that had been wiped clean by endorphins, much to her dismay. 

The stagnant air around them felt cooler as each passing second felt longer than the last. Without thinking her arm unfurled from her side and reached out behind Naegi's neck in a snappy, whiplike movement. No sooner as she had done so, Mukuro caught something slim and metallic betwixt two fingers. Even without her skewed perception of time, she could tell that the object in her hands was just a fork; much too long, not as fast, and far too quiet. At the very least, a flying utensil was better than a stray bullet or hot shrapnel in most cases. 

Mukuro craned her neck to assess the situation and the boy she just saved from a rather interesting head injury. He looked fine, save for his widened, darting eyes. Good. He also hadn't dropped any of their food. Also good, although she should probably help lighten his load. She scanned the rest of the dining hall, which did not lose any of its usual commotion or atmosphere, nor could she spot any potential assailants. They all just looked like civilians eating a meal. 

A little frustrating, but she was glad things didn't get any worse than they should have.

"I almost just died right now, didn't I?" Naegi finally squeaked after an agonizing few seconds. 

"'Die' Is a strong word, but yes, there was a possibility for injury." 

"Th-Thanks, Ikusaba-san," he exhaled, allowing for the tension to release its grip on his body.

"It's nothing." 

Naegi looked around behind him, then began scratching the back of his head. "They're probably wondering where we are right now, huh?" 

"Not too much time has passed, I believe." Mukuro inched away, deeming the situation mostly clear. "We should be okay." 

Emphasis on mostly; her instincts, while waning in vigor, were still wired and ready to jump. 

"That's true," the Luckster started. "But I wouldn't want to waste too much of their time." 

Relaxing and dropping her shoulders, she nodded. "Agreed." 

His face scrunched up as he lowered his head in thought. Just as quickly, however, he wholly relaxed and reached into his pocket. Mukuro found the actions somewhat strange, and even stranger as he brought a dark rectangle over his head. 

"Smile!" 

"...!"

By the time she whipped her head around to gaze at the phone, the artificial camera shutter sound had already gone off. Mukuro raised an eyebrow as her eyes bore absently into the back of Naegi's head. If she had been as alert as thirty seconds ago, she'd have time to properly prepare. How on earth did he get the drop on her? At least the flash was off. 

"Ah! S-Sorry, I kinda took it on a whim," 

"... Can I see it?" 

"Yeah, uh sure," he hesitated. "Was it too sudden?" 

"I could do with a heads-up next time." She let her dry remark hang in the equally arid atmosphere as she stared at the photograph. 

It wasn't astonishing, or life-changing by any stretch of the imagination. It was a simple picture; it was of them taken from a downward angle. She was in the background, gazing at the camera with a semi-surprised expression (most would rightfully mistake it for apathy) while Naegi, the de facto photographer, stood in the foreground. He held the camera above, making his somewhat tiny stature less pronounced.

His lips had been transfixed into a small, lopsided smile, captured forevermore by the phone's lenses. It was trademark at this point. His jovial, almost nonchalant attitude; His infectious glee, full of strange warmth. 

The photo was plain, perhaps gratefully so. 

"If you don't like it, I'll delete it—" He stammered.

"It's okay," she assured, softening her tone. "What's it for?" 

"Honestly? Not sure," he admitted. "I was gonna send it to Maizono-san or Kuwata-san so they know we aren't goofing off or whatever." 

"That… seems excessive." 

"Probably is. I think it's fun, though,” he shrugged, typing into his phone, then shitting it off. 

Mukuro stared at the shorter boy absentmindedly. Were such frivolities commonplace in a civilian atmosphere? She wasn't against it. However, it did seem bizarre, considering she's spent more than enough time living on the bare minimum and packing just enough firepower to fend for herself.

It didn't… seem so bad. There was much to learn about ‘normal.’ 

Naegi heaved the four lacquered boxes up with noticeable effort. "You know, I don't think I'll get used to this school any time soon," he deadpanned.

"...Could you send it to me?" She decided.

"Yeah sure!" He beamed, but immediately fell into slight puzzlement. "Wait, I don't have your contact, huh?" 

She tilted her head, then looked straight into his eyes. "Want me to give it to you?"

•••

"Aw man, you won't even consider it?" 

Leon felt his lips curl into a disappointed frown. He, of course, expected as much, but the revelation still felt like a jab his way. Well, maybe he overestimated his chances.

"Sorry~" She sang out with a mocking lilt to her voice. "I just don't think our band's ready for such a stylistic change in sound so soon."

The entire trek up the fifty-bajillion set of stairs consisted of Leon attempting to convince Maizono to collaborate on a new project together. He damn near pleaded with her at this point, now nearing their spot. One would think she’d budge even a tiny bit, right? But she remained infuriatingly resolute in her stance, which he would admit was impressive.

A damn shame. It would’ve been swell, straight cash to say he played alongside Maizono-Freakin’-Sayaka.

"There goes like ninety percent of my plans." His sigh caused his shoulders to droop, slouching over. Forget overestimating, Leon realized he was just awful at math. 

"Surely you’ve got other plans lying around, no?" She asked, finally looking his way for once.

Internally brushing off his soul-crushing defeat, he replaced a smile. "More of an improv kinda guy, you dig?" 

Her eyes seemed to darken, putting a finger to her chin as she gazed up toward the ceiling. "I… see." 

He felt his face drop the grin. There wasn't a trace of her usual bubbly inflection or any kind of tune sung out with her melodic voice. Just a cold, distant reply. Scary.

Leon coughed into his hand, attempting to regain a semblance of courage or momentum to continue the conversation. "Would it kill ya to at least talk it over with your manager?" 

"At your current skill level, it might." 

She's been going for the jugular this entire time, hasn't she? He never had a snowball's chance in hell. 

"Harsh..." 

Leon's hand reached out and rested on the knob's handle for an odd second or so, then twisted it. The apparent lack of resistance and a distinct clicking sound brought a tiny bit of pleasant surprise as he pushed the door aside. It appeared no one locked it this time around.

"Yoohoo!" 

"When the hell?" Leon's automatic answer sounded more annoyed than someone who had been startled. The person's painfully recognizable voice tended to have that effect if one ever had the misfortune of making her acquaintance. Her appearance was rather gorgeous, however. Makes most of his interactions with her easier.

"Since forever ago, y'know." The girl flipped one of her pigtails behind her.

"I, uh, guess?" Said Leon. 

"Uh, not a guess? Helloooo?" She raised her voice, her icy blue eyes glaring at the two. Or maybe just him. "You guys are slooooow! Like seriously sloooooow !" 

"Alright, alright I get it, sheesh." Leon put his hands up. No choice but to roll with the verbal punches.

"How'd you get up here so fast?" Sayaka asked simply.

"Yeah, did you sprint up here or something?" Leon added.

"Mhm, and it was fuckin' awful! Especially in these heels!" She pointed, or rather, jabbed a finger quite angrily toward her footwear. 

"No one was forcing you to run?"

"Shaddup." She hissed, turning away. "Anyway, where are those two doofuses? Boring one and two?" 

"Are you talkin' about Naegi and Ikusaba?" Leon questioned.

"Who else? Can you name anyone else in our class that's blander?" Enoshima gestured in an almost frantic manner. 

"Sheesh, you're really ripping into them, huh?" No sooner than he finished speaking, he felt a vibration by his thigh. Leon reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

Big Mac: sry were late, almost got stabbed by a stray fork lol 

Big Mac: btw is everyone there?

Leon blinked twice, then his fingers began tapping.  

> ye Maizono n Enoshima r here

> how does a fork go astray 

Big Mac: it flew 

> what. 

Big Mac: Ikr? ikusaba-san saved me tho 

> nice

> wya?

Leon raised an eyebrow at the lack of an immediate answer. Hell, he'd understand if Naegi was still typing, but nothing about that showed up. He only got a read receipt. 

Big Mac: hold on the picture is still loading  

Why's he sending a picture? Wouldn't it be faster to just say where he was?

Huh. Smooth. They're moving up with all their food intact, and with the correct beverages too. Also, that's not a pretty text.

"Would ya look at that, they're on their way. Apparently, he almost got skewered in the face by a flying freakin' fork,” said Leon.

"... Really now?" 

" Damn it, Kanon, " Leon mumbled to himself, taking care to lower his volume. "That's what he said." 

"Hey, who’s Kanon?" He felt a hand on his left shoulder and judging by those crimson nails, it was most likely one of the last people he wanted sticking their nose around his business. 

"Oi, Enoshima, why are you looking over my shoulder?" 

"I wonder if Ikusaba-chan's camera shy?" Another, sweeter voice from his right shoulder. 

"Why are you looking over too?!" Leon yelped out in surprise. "Jeez, I'll send the pic later, just don't sneak up on me like that!" Leon swatted them away with his hand, but without actually hitting them of course. Hitting girls is a big nope. Usually. 

Are there circumstances where you can do that—

"Hey hey, Kuwata—"

"Leon's fine—" 

"—Ugh, whatever!” Enoshima huffed with an amount of anger Leon thought unfounded.

"You were saying?" He urged her.

"She wanted to tell you not to think of anything weird!" Maizono, opposite of her effused.

"Hey! How'd you know I was gonna say that?!" 

"Scratch that! What makes you think I was thinking anything remotely weird?!" Leon shot back, matching her displeasure.

"You got that face on!"

"Ugh, what face?!"

“The one where you're just smugly staring into space while playing with your goatee!”

“How am I even smug?!” Leon groaned. “Hell, I could be thinking about anything! Like—” He paused to search the recesses of his brain for an example. “—Like birds, or something.”

“Birds? I never figured you to be so fascinated by them,” Maizono giggled. “What do you know about cranes?”

“Cranes are… Interesting.” He wracked his brain, working overtime to salvage the conversation to prevent himself from looking like a total fool. “More of a finch guy, personally.” 

“Yeah freakin’ right you were thinking about birds!” 

“Just—” Leon, frustrated beyond belief from the recent libels of the day, sat down in an exhausted manner, pinching the bridge of his nose. “—Is today national ‘Make-Fun-of-Leon Day' or something?” 

He gazed at the door, waiting for someone semi-normal enough to be around. 

"Naegi, Ikusaba, where the hell are ya guys?"

•••

"Are you having trouble with that?" 

Mukuro looked over her shoulder to watch a struggling Naegi wobbling up the stairs as he tried to balance the weight of four boxes on his forearms. Was it really that heavy? She hadn't the faintest clue as to why he insisted on carrying it himself. She could do it with ease.

"I-I'm okay, it's just a little hard to erm—" He stopped, making minor adjustments to his hold. "—Get a good grip on it." 

"I see."

It wouldn't be long until they reached the roof access stairs. Still, they would've been here earlier had they not taken frequent breaks for the Luckster to catch up. Perhaps she should have been more proactive in lightening his load. 

"Man, I'm sort of glad today went without too much incident," he suddenly said.

She tilted her head in confusion. "We've had more than a few close calls today." 

"That's true—” Naegi sucked in a breath, then took three quick steps so that he’d be next to her. "—But I'm glad things didn't take a turn for the worse." 

"It could've escalated into a far worse disaster,” she pointed out. 

He responded with a labored smile. "Right, and I'm grateful you were there for me." 

"I won't always be." 

I wish that wasn't the case.

"For sure, but we should help each other whenever we can, no?" 

“I guess so.” 

“You guess?” He raised a teasing brow with a half-cocked smile. Mukuro couldn’t decide if she should respond in kind or simply turn away from his prompt. 

She continued taking one, two, now three steps upward. “I don’t go out of my way to help everyone I meet.” She looked straight ahead as she spoke. “It’s not practical.”

“I think it’s worth the while. Every little bit counts.” His counterpoint went half-ignored. “And you stuck your neck out for me. Twice.”

Her pace slowed down to match the Luckster. “It wouldn’t do for you to get hurt. I did what I had to.”

The statement felt disingenuous, even for her.

“You’re a very kind person, Ikusaba-san.”

She stopped abruptly, having arrived at the final landing before the access. She waited, as Naegi was still five steps behind.

“It’s nothing,” Mukuro said now that he caught up with the food in tow. She gave him a sidelong glance, watching his lips purse together with effort as he stood with bated breath. 

She tucked the drinks underneath her left forearm and held out her right hand in front of the boy. “Here.”

“Wha—?”

“I’ll carry half.”

“No, it’s okay, I can—”

She cut him off by grabbing two bentos from the top with one hand. “You looked like you were having trouble.”

“I—” The frown on his face softened. “—I was.”

“Then it’s no issue,” she stated, placing the drinks from her other arm on top of the boxes. “Though your upper body strength needs some work.”

“... I guess you’re right.”

“You guess?” She teased, with a weak, borrowed grin.

“Ha ha,” he conceded, a corner of his lips turning upward.

They continued up the rest of the steps at a much briefer pace now that Naegi’s load had been lightened. Mukuro placed her hand on the knob and turned it with a firm, mechanical motion. 

“Ikusaba-san,” Naegi suddenly piped up. 

She slowly pushed the door aside. “Hm?” 

“Thank—” 

“No, I won’t do it with you!” 

“Aw, what? But why not?!” 

“... Huh.” Naegi’s normal inflection scrunched into a confused, bothered look as he stared down at the source of the voices.

They had been greeted by the others. A very annoyed-looking Leon sat right of her sister, and across those two was Maizono who’d been holding a mildly concerned face as the two bickered about something Mukuro did not know or would like to know about. 

“Because you suck—!”

“What are you guys talking about.” The Luckster’s inquiry sounded incredibly rhetorical, as if daring them to come up with their best excuse for their behavior. It reminded her of her old drill sergeant somewhat, but far less loud and nowhere near as crass.

“Music,” Leon spoke first. 

“Really now.” 

“Yeah, and Leon won't let me join his band! I even thought of the name and everything!” 

“First of all, what kind of a band name is ‘Ultra Despair Duo?’ It sounds stupid! And second, what can you even bring to the table? Your singing sucks!” 

“Does not! And I can play the triangle.” 

“The triangle—” Leon pinched the bridge of his nose, and judging from its redness, he's done it before. Multiple times. “—You're gonna be the death of me.” 

“I see, that's what's going on,” Naegi exhaled, relaxing his shoulders. “Well, we got the food.” 

“Naegi, were you thinking about something weird, too?” Maizono asked in her usual chipper tone.

“H-Hey, don't change the subject!” 

“Let's settle down first,” Leon suggested, holding a hand up. 

“After all, I think it's about that time.”

•••

"Alright! Everyone ready?" 

Leon called out to everyone present, seated in a semicircle facing away from the door. 

"Hold up! Where the heck's my share?!" Enoshima blustered.

"You said you didn't care if you got one." 

"Yeah, but I didn't mean it mean it, c'moooon," 

Leon clicked his tongue as his red brows furrowed into a narrow glare. "We only had the four! You invited yourself here anyway!" 

"And you let me come with, you douche—" 

"That's enough of that. Where'd the bickering come from?" Makoto attempted to appeal, having heard more than enough yelling for the day.

"I don't know, but I'm starving,” replied the baseball savant, scratching the back of his head.

Maizono from across nodded fervently. "Mhm! Let's dig in while it's still warm!" 

"Ne—Enoshima-san,” Ikusaba quickly corrected, for some odd reason. “You can have some of mine—" 

"Noooooooo, I don't want your sloppy seconds Muku-chan," the Fashionista whined.

"Stop making things sound weird!" 

"Alright! Let's actually eat.” Makoto raised his voice, hoping to drown out what would hopefully be the last of the heated conversations. 

He took a deep breath, then lifted the lid off his bento to reveal… a lot of red. The crimson sauce had cubes of tofu floating on top, along with an assortment of diced vegetables and meat he assumed was pork or beef. It gave an appearance strikingly similar to molten lava, and if the rumors were anything to trust, it would be as hot as it looked. Beside that was a steaming side of plain white rice.

"Kind of looks like curry," Makoto commented, holding up a spoon of the reddish sauce.

Enoshima nodded from over his shoulder. "A really, really mean-looking curry." 

"It's not completely unappetizing-looking," Mukuro denoted, eyeing her food with a vacant look of curiosity.

"My eyes water when I bring the spoon up,” Leon added an observation of his own.

"...That's not good." 

Maizono's eyes, on the other hand, lit up to an impossible degree. "Smells good! Can I dig in? Can I?" 

"No one's stopping ya." 

"Well, what's stopping you, Leon? Your spoon's been hovering for a minute,” Makoto countered.

"Y'know, just waiting for it to cool off," he excused. "’Cause, it's hot. Temperature hot. Not spicy." 

"You haven't even tried it yet." 

"Well, that's because—"

"Wow! This is really good! Try it, you guys!" The bluenette bubbled, excitingly chewing with her eyes closed. 

"Maizono drew first blood! I'll be damned if I get outdone by a Popstar!" Enoshima hissed, swiping Makoto's spoon with unexpected ease. She proceeded to scoop up a rather generous helping amidst the Luckster's shock. 

"Hey, my spoon!" 

The blonde swung his spoon straight into her mouth with practiced grace, enclosing her lips around the bowl of the utensil. Red liquid slithered down the side of her cheek as she gulped her helping down.

“Hah! This is ligh…t?” The smarm had been wiped clean by a red uneasiness, flushing her face in its entirety.”

"... Do we start? I'm getting a little hungry now." Ikusaba asked, bringing a scoop of the red rice closer to her lips. 

"Ah, screw it." Leon shoved the spoon into his mouth with an exaggerated theatrical display. 

“Khh—! Holy shit! What's with this stuff?!” Enoshima from behind screamed, throwing herself back onto the floor and kicking her feet up.

“Hah! Look at you! This ain't so bad—Ow. Ow. Ow. Fuck.” Leon's spoon dangled precariously from his fingertips as his other hand loosened his tie and reached for his neck. “This is weird. My tongue feels weird.” 

“Is it really that bad?” Makoto asked. 

“I don't… know? It's spicy as hell, but it tastes good.” Leon explained, regripping his spoon with shaky fingers. “One more bite?” 

“One more bite,” Makoto repeated, then directed his attention to Ikusaba on his right. “How’s it holding up for you?” 

“It's hot.” Her response was curt and concise as she ate another bite without so much as flinching. 

Morbid curiosity welled up in Makoto to a tipping point, but with no way of actually eating the food, he sat there, surveying the various reactions his friends displayed as they ate. 

“AGH! Okay, another bite was a mistake,” Leon hissed, falling forward onto his palms as he broke out into a flood of sweat. His face looked redder than his hair, now. 

“What… the hell?!” Enoshima, still on her back, flailed with her hands reaching for her throat as she screamed into the air. However, it seemed to have reached nobody, save Makoto.

"A-Ah! Kuwata-san! Enoshima-san! Are you guys alright?!" 

At this point Leon was on all fours, or rather, all three with one hand around his neck. He struggled to keep himself off the floor with a downpour of a generous amount of perspiration coating his face. Enoshima faired no better, rolling across the floor in a comical fashion as if she were on fire. Considering the circumstances, it wouldn’t be too far off the truth.

"Leon's… fine..." He grunted between spasms of pain, curling over.

"No I don't—I don't think you're fine,” Makoto deadpanned.

"Do I look okay to you?!" Enoshima wheezed. 

The cacophony of retching, coughing, and similar distasteful noises emanated from the two incapacitated by the heat of the Mapo Tofu. They served to further dampen the Luckster’s already waning curiosity, feeling more trepidatious by the second. Not that he’d back out. The thought was pretty enticing, however.

"You guys, is it really that spicy?" Maizono asked, helping herself to another spoonful. "So delish~!" 

"How… the fuck...?" Leon sputtered, before crumpling onto the floor with a dramatic-sounding thud. 

"Well..." The bluenette's eyes shifted toward the sky, pondering a question that from the looks of which, had never occurred to her. "I guess I just really like spicy food!" 

Makoto cradled his chin with his fingers. "Small wonder your best dish is chili oil." 

Maizono giggled. "I told you, that was a joke!" 

"Naegi, you ass! You haven't taken a bite yet while we're over here suff— I mean digesting!" Leon hacked.

"Enoshima-san took my spoon, otherwise I'd be eating too." Makoto swiveled his head around to see the Fashionista retching on her knees, a sight most unbefitting of someone with her glamorous reputation. "Ehm, could I have it back?" 

"It has my… saliva and junk on it," she croaked out with noticeable effort. "Are ya hittin' on me… or are you one of those creepy fans that stalk me... every week or so? 'Cause this behavior's right up their alley—" 

"Yeah, as I was saying, she stole my spoon," Makoto cut her off, wanting to blanch out any disgusting imagery the blonde had planted in his head. A miracle that he still had an appetite, he thought as he began patting the area around him for a usable utensil.

“Oh… you don’t have a spoon…? Why didn’t… you say so?” Leon called out with a labored pause between every couple of words or so, rummaging around in his pockets. “‘Ere, catch.”

A sinister gleam shone through the Baseball Star’s clenched fist before he wound back and chucked the object with careless form.

“Woah—?!” Makoto, on instinct, covered his face with the box’s lid in his hands before hearing—and feeling—a thud from the other side. He blinked twice, then peeked around to see a spoon dug partway into the lacquered wood.

“Hey! That’s the second time someone threw a utensil at me!” His ahoge twitched, more so out of fright than anger.

The redhead rubbed the back of his neck in response. “Whoop, my bad. Thought I threw it as light as I could.”

You call that ‘light?!’

Breathing in, then out, he gingerly pinched the handle of the spoon before plucking it off with some effort. “I can’t help but wonder; do you… usually bring extra utensils? In your back pocket?” He asked, gesturing with his newly acquired spoon.

“Look man, are ya gonna eat it or not?”

“I-I will.”

“Then thank me and move on,” he expressed through another agonizing mouthful of his food. “‘Sides, I don’t actually carry silverware in my back pocket. There was an extra one in my box.”

The shorter boy stared at him for an odd second, then blinked himself to reality. “Huh. That’s convenient. Thanks.”

“Yeeup, now hurry up and see what the fuss is about,” he replied before swallowing with a loud gulp. “Ow.” He scooped up another bite.

"You're gonna take another bite?" Makoto furrowed his brow as he too scooped a portion of his food. 

"It's killin' me... but holy shit it tastes good," Leon admitted as he hesitantly ate some more. "Put it over the rice... less spicy that way." 

Makoto blinked two or three times, then stared at his spoon, dripping with a crimson, salacious sauce that made both his mouth and eyes water in its intensity. 

"Well—" Makoto blew cold air onto the steaming rice and red tofu. "—Here goes." 

He brought the Mapo Tofu to his tongue and closed his lips. 

•••

"Holy crap this is hot!" 

The exclamation came from the shortest of the group, eyes widened and jaw hung open as he finally took a bite of his food. Good; he was a bit on the thinner side, and he needed to eat more. 

Beside Naegi and his twitching ahoge sat Leon. However, it would be more accurate to say he crawled, seeing how he was on his knees and forearms heaving out labored breaths. In front of him lay his bento, exactly half-eaten, and an empty, crushed can of cola. She had no idea why he squeezed the can until it resembled an ice pick, and judging by Leon's wobbly movements, she wasn't going to find out any time soon. 

To his left lay her younger sister, laying on her back with her hands elegantly folded over her abdomen. The kind of strange melodramatic beauty that only the dead could accomplish at a funeral, which Mukuro had been convinced Junko had been aiming for that effect. She lay there, virtually unmarred save for her inflamed lips courtesy of a certain dish. 

The main surprise was to Naegi's right, the Popstar Maizono Sayaka. She showed no sign of pain, fatigue, or any kind of weakness as she gleefully shoveled spoonful after spoonful into her mouth, not a drop wasted. 

"Ikusaba-chan, are you not hungry?"

She was, but to say she was faring any better than her peers would be a little more than a half-truth. Her tongue scorched with an unprecedented numbing heat that she had never tasted before. While she had not been careless enough to get any on her lips, they felt chapped and irritable but not on the level of Kuwata or her sister. 

hic

That was an issue as well. Her throat screamed for water, for her to tear apart the cap and drink her fill unabated, but she withheld. Her seemingly insatiable hunger was the only thing stopping her from simply putting her food down. It didn't matter how spicy it was; she's gone hungry enough times in her life that she will not waste food.

It also tasted great. That helped a lot. The soft tofu combined with the red Szechuan braise on top of the rice was something she never expected to be so… good. The bits of carrots, peas, and pork also added an even greater depth of flavor that melded and hurt her tongue in an odd, satisfying way. The heat, she realized, was the essential bond that melded these components together. 

"It's spicy." 

"Right? But it's so good!" The bluenette beamed, completely unwavering. This was no act. 

"Mm. It tastes great." The soldier replied. 

"Muku~" A wavering, quivering voice from across her called out.

"Yes, Enoshima-san?" 

"Can you give me your water bottle? Pretty please?" Her sister pleaded without breaking out of her corpse-like pose.

Maizono tilted her head with presumed confusion written on her face. "But you only had one bite...?"

"Pleeeeeeeease?" 

"Catch," Mukuro relented, tossing the bottle with a languid motion of her arm. As the bottle began to fall from the peak of its arc, Junko shot her hand up with frightening speed, catching the bottle with minimal effort. 

"Thaaaaanks." She proceeded to uncap the bottle and…

… Dumped the contents onto her face. 

"... Why would you do that?" Naegi voiced her concerns out loud.

"Ish hot." 

"I feel bad for Ikusaba now," Leon mumbled, his face now planted onto the floor. 

Mukuro sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "It's nothing."

Maizono pushed another bite into her mouth, so playfully it appeared almost doll-like. "Ikusaba-chan, do you like being a soldier? You must've worked hard to be where you're at now," she gestured with her utensil. 

She sat there and pondered her question. "You could say that. I've wanted to be a soldier since I was a child." 

Maizono nodded. "I understand, having such a dream. I've been chasing this path for as long as I could remember." 

Mukuro turned away from her, facing the sky. "A dream… huh?"

The word echoed in her head, each reverberation louder than the last. The realizations kept pounding at her. Her decision to become a soldier. That was and still is her dream. She threw everything aside and sacrificed many as she barreled through that narrow tunnel.

Even her sister. Even this civilian life. But that was fine, right? This was the path she chose for herself.

"Maizono-san, have you ever taken your eyes off that dream, even for a moment?" Mukuro asked the one thought she kept buried for as long as she could remember. 

The bluenette’s face grew grim, yet strangely sympathetic. "I… can't really say I have. It's all I've ever known." 

"I see. I felt that way for a long time."

"And now?" 

"I'm here now, at Hope's Peak." She turned back to Maizono. "Things are changing at a rate I can barely keep up with." 

"Mm, I get you, I get you! But I think this school offers a lot of opportunities to continue chasing those ambitions of ours." 

"Perhaps. New sights, new experiences—"

New people.

"—Too many doors opening at once, I suppose." 

"Sorry to interrupt, but how do we determine the loser?" Naegi coughed after a prolonged silence. A quick glance at his box showed a little over a third of the food gone. Judging by his chapped lips, it appeared that he spent his time rather wisely. 

Maizono put her index finger to her chin. "Hmm, I think whoever doesn't finish by the bell." 

"And the time?" 

"It’s almost 12:40, so, a little over ten minutes left?" 

"... Darn." He clicked his tongue, then ate another bite. "Kuwata-san, you alright?" 

No answer. 

"Leon?" 

He mumbled something unintelligible in response. The taller boy lay in a strange position, clearly unable to function properly, let alone talk. Poor guy, guess he can’t hold spice all too well. Better than her sister, she supposed.

"That's not good. You okay buddy?" 

"I see..." Leon's pained wheezing caused the Luckster to lean toward him. "... A bright light." 

"Please don't go toward it." 

Great, she's going to be a witness to her first civilian casualty in a school environment.

"Do your best!" the Idol called out, then turned Mukuro again. "Ikusaba-chan, do you have any doubts?" 

"For the future?"

"Mhm!" 

"I can't really say they're doubts," she replied. "Curious, maybe." 

"Do tell." 

Mukuro's eyes scanned the roof from side to side for no particular reason, then exhaled softly. "I've spent my whole life enamored with the military, but now I have a broader view of things, so to speak." 

She paused to stifle a hiccup.

"I can't see myself as anything but a soldier, yet I want to see what the future holds," she continued.

From her peripheries, she saw Naegi coughing into a closed fist with lips colored a blistering red. "I'm a bit relieved... that even you have worries like this, Ikusaba-san," he managed to say between coughs. 

"Why's that?" 

Before he could answer he whipped his head around to cough away from everyone present, then slowly returned to her gaze with soft sniffles. 

"Not sure, but It's reassuring that even someone as amazing as you are could be troubled by stuff like this," he smiled. "It's very, uhm, what's-the-word … relatable, I believe." 

“I’m not as great as you make me out to be,” Mukuro sighed, taking the last bite of the magmatic tofu. "... Is it really that normal to feel such a way?" 

"Yeah, I’m pretty sure it is. It'd be weird if someone did have it all figured out,” Naegi blustered in a somewhat husky tone. “No one knows what will happen; We're all in the same boat, after all." 

"Right, right! No one's completely infallible, no matter how dedicated they are to their cause," Maizono beamed, clasping her hands together. "Even I second-guess myself from time to time. But when I see that crowd cheering us on, I'm reminded why I started in the first place."

She pumped her fist upward with a defiant look as she spoke. There was an unheard confidence and conviction in her tone that took Mukuro aback. 

"I see—”

hic

Her hand shot upwards, cusping her mouth as she tried to quiet her voice. Her brows furrowed as she cleared her throat to little avail, producing another sharp hiccup. If her hand wasn’t over her mouth, she’d reckon the others would hear the low growl radiating from within her throat.

"... Here." 

Mukuro aimed her head down to see Naegi’s hand, grasping the body of a full water bottle and offering it to her. Her eyes followed his arm to his beaming face, slightly pink and panting which she presumed to be from the Mapo Tofu.

"Why?" She asked, puzzled.

"You looked like... you needed it," he managed to say between coughs. 

"You need it more than me." 

"Please, I insist." 

She narrowed her eyes at the boy. Should she? It was his, after all. She willingly gave up her own water bottle to her sister, for better or for worse. In addition, he appeared to be in a worse state than her, complete with an unhealthy amount of sweat scattered across his face in uneven clusters and lips colored a vibrant red that rivaled lipstick.

Despite all of that, why was he giving his bottle up for her? What has she done to deserve his generosity? Was she even allowed to take this?

I don’t understand.

"Thank you, Naegi-kun," she said instead.

"No... problem!" he hacked.

Maizono on the other hand directed her earlier sympathy onto Naegi this time. "I'm not so sure about that."

"You messed up, Naegi." Leon joined in, voiced muffled courtesy of the floor.

"Shaddup, Leon! I'll figure something out." 

Mukuro stared at the boy’s wilting antenna-like strand of hair. "Will you be okay, Naegi-kun?" 

"Yeah—" He lurched forward into another coughing fit and sniffled into his sleeves. "—Okay, maybe not as okay as I thought." 

"You can have it back if you want,” she offered.

"It's alright, really,” he assured in turn. "I think I know what to do now." 

Mukuro heard her sister stir for the first time in what felt like hours. "Oh, pray tell." 

"I'll just shovel it all in at once."

… Come again?

"That's—" Leon made an abrupt pause in his protest. "—An idea alright." 

"Is that really a good idea, Naegi-kun?" Maizono inquired, concern spreading across her expression. 

"Probably not, but we got less than ten minutes left and I'm not too big on cleaning duty for the rest of the week," he reasoned, or more accurately, rationalized. 

"You're just gonna end up like Leon over there."

"You're in this boat too, Enoshima." 

Mukuro slid the half-empty bottle closer to Naegi. "It's here if you need it." 

He opened his mouth, but any objections he had died with his relaxing expression. "Thank you, Ikusaba-san." 

She responded with no more than a listless nod, watching him eat spoonfuls after spoonfuls of what she could only really describe as edible thermite at a rather impressive pace. He did not relent, and in fact, he may have sped up as the supply of the sanguine rice waned rapidly. Even with his spontaneous coughs, his occasional sniffles, and the ever-deepening shade of red painting his lips, he refused to give up. 

In a strange way, it was quite admirable. 

"I'm rooting for you!" Maizono called out. 

"Woah holy shit, he's actually doing it!" Leon finally lifted his head from the floor, marveling at the spectacle as well. 

"Wow, good for you," the blonde hissed from the other end of their gathering, very clearly embittered. 

"Wow, this hurts… a lot," Naegi commented between labored pants. His tongue lolled out slightly as he attempted to catch a breath, wiping away a smidgen of sauce smeared on his left cheek with his thumb. Despite all of this, it came as a shock to Mukuro that he had not even touched the water bottle beside him all this time. Not yet at least.

"Less than five minutes!" Maizono cheered. 

His ahoge sprung up and straightened outward upon hearing the bluenette. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, then resumed eating at a more languid pace. Mukuro approximated that there should be no more than four spoonfuls left. 

He took an especially leisurely pace with the last couple of mouthfuls. Despite the red flush on his face and constant sniffling, it appeared he had acclimated to the heat. 

"Less than a minute!" Maizono called out. 

Naegi's reply was simple; he lifted his spoon to about eye level, staring at the dripping crimson before just as quickly stuffing it into his mouth. He didn't even chew as he forced the last of the red tofu and rice down with an audible gulp. 

"...Whew." He mustered a soft exhale as he gently placed the empty box down. The chiming bells sounded from the speakers not long after, signaling not only the end of lunch but Naegi's narrow victory. 

"Yay! Naegi-kun, you did it!" 

"You're a tough bastard, ain't ya?" 

"Whatever; it's just food, it's not that serious," Enoshima huffed. 

"Yeah, you're just mad 'cause you knocked out after a single bite,” Leon scoffed.

"Did NOT!" 

"Guys, now's not a good time to bicker," Naegi chuckled, mild exhaustion taking hold of both his words and movements. "Enoshima-san's kind of right; it's just a really spicy dish, that's all." 

"We had a bet, and ya won it, can't complain there, right?" 

"About that..." Maizono trailed off.

"Hah?" 

"While he did finish within the time frame, he wasn't the first." 

"What— Oh. Ooooooh." The realization made itself evident upon Leon’s face.

The Popstar smiled in confirmation. "So from last to first: Enoshima, Kuwata—" 

"Leon's fin—" 

"Naegi, Ikusaba," She inhaled. "And I'm first!" She announced with a somewhat cheeky smile plastered across her face. There was an unusual smugness nestled in the tone of her voice; it was clear she was proud of her victory.

"Yippee," Junko and Leon monotoned in unison, with a tired drawl and a sarcastic tinge respectively. Along with Naegi and herself, they applauded the pop star with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"And since the loser has to take over cleaning duty for the next week—" 

"Hey! I didn't come up with that! Enoshima did!"

"Man up and accept the loss you sore loser!" 

"YOU'RE LAST PLACE! NOT ME!" 

"I DIDN'T EVEN HAVE MY OWN FOOD YOU ASS!" 

"Now now, let's calm down." Maizono placated with the same, sickly-sweet smile. "Since things aren't so clear, how about you both take over cleaning duty? It's a group effort after all!" 

"That's... Ugh," Leon groaned, burying his forehead into his palm.

"Hey! My complaint still stands!" 

"Well, you did come up with the losing condition, and you did dump out Ikusaba-chan's water bottle," The bluenette pointed out, quite literally with a finger aimed at the discarded plastic near the fashionista. 

"So what? She got Big Mac's bottle anyway," she huffed. 

"Which resulted in Big Mac giving up his own water bottle," Leon countered in a rare moment of lucidity. "Let's face it; we lost." 

"Is my name Big Mac now?" 

"Fine, but only because Muku got second place," Junko avowed, turning to look in her direction. "Congratz, Muku~!" 

"Mm. Thanks." 

"You two seem strangely close," Leon noticed. 

"Oh, you have no idea," she cawed, waving the redhead off. 

"Alright," said Naegi as he stood up, dusting his legs off. "let's get back to cla-haaaass...?" 

He froze in place, eyes widened to an almost comical degree. 

"What's wrong?" Mukuro asked, tilting her head. 

"The pain's finally settling in," he stated. "All at once, too. Ouch. Tongue. Numb."

"Here." She handed the bottle back to him, still cool to the touch.

"Thanks." He twisted the cap off with renewed vigor, bringing the spout to his lips to take three, now four hearty gulps.

"Naegi-kun, you did well today." 

"I-Is it really that impressive? All I did was stuff my face with magma," He asked as he replaced the cap. 

"Victories are victories, even if they're silly," she shrugged. "Have some confidence in yourself; the school chose you to enroll here out of thousands after all." 

"I don't... I don't feel like I'm special enough to be praised like this." He turned away from her eyes. "I haven't done that much either."

"I stand to disagree." 

She swore his ahoge perked up for the briefest moment. "I—" 

He pursed his lips as a new kind of pink discolored his cheeks, his hazel-green eyes flitting back to her and then returning to the ground a couple of times. 

"Thank you. Again." 

"It's noth—" 

hic  

Naegi's confusion did not last, having been replaced by his usual lopsided smile and a soft chuckle as he raised a hand, offering the rest of the bottle. 

"Need some?” he chuckled. 

BONUS

"Hey, Maizono-san." 

The redhead’s voice pierced the unanimous silent spell that overcast the rest of their group since they left the rooftops for class. The sounds of four pairs of footsteps were beginning to grate her ears, and she welcomed a chance for conversation regardless of who initiated it.

"Yes?" She pulled a few stray locks of her blue hair behind her ear, her way of addressing him, she supposed. It's been in the way for a while now, too.

"Do you think they know?" Leon nodded towards the two in front of them in a hushed voice. The not-couple in front of them spoke at a similar volume whilst staring at Naegi’s phone screen. Even with a musician's ear, she couldn't discern much apart from a couple of words from the shorter boy indicating a lopsided conversation. 

Sayaka regarded the redhead with a very brief moment of confusion, before understanding the subtext he'd been hinting at not long after. 

"I'm not sure," she answered truthfully. "It'd be surprising if they did." 

If they did know, they'd been playing her, Kuwata, and the rest of the class for fools.

"They've got to know something! How do you pass a bottle back and forth like that without realizing something's amiss?" He inquired, taking another bite of his unfinished lunch from earlier.

"They could just be really dense," she proposed. 

“Mean, and there's a limit to how dense you can be, right?” His question was muffled by the food. “I mean, she clearly saw him take a sip from that, and he saw her sip from that same bottle”

“You’d be surprised at how absent people can be.”

“How would you know?” 

"I'm an esper, after all,” she exhaled with a faint smile. 

“Maybe.” Leon scratched the back of his head. “What if they did know, and they didn't care?” 

She briefly entertained the idea. “That’d be a thought.” 

Leon snorted through his nose. "Hey Enoshima, what do you think—" 

He turned to face absolutely no one to his left. How he didn't notice for the last minute and a half came as a slight shock to her. 

"When and why?" 

She sighed. "I wish I knew, too." 

Leon tugged at his goatee as he grimaced. "What is up with this school, man?" 

"We do have a lot of strange characters here." 

Leon's right hand reached around his head. "I've said it before, but I don't think I'll get used to this school," he sighed in defeat, pacifying himself with another bite of the red rice. “Damn, this is good.” 

Sayaka giggled. "It seems we agree on a couple of things for once."

•••

“Naegi-kun.”

“Yes?”

They continued walking down the seemingly infinite flight of stairs, with an arm’s length or two from the others behind them. She had taken notice of her sister slinking away when they had left the rooftops earlier. While she hadn’t a clue as to how or where exactly she could’ve gone, she was more than sure Junko would be perfectly fine; and more likely than not, she would beat them all to the classroom one way or another.

Step after repetitious step, the sound had become far too dull much too fast. In a rare bout of assertiveness, she attempted to break that silence with Naegi, with whom she had always known to be the initiator of conversation for the majority of their time together.

“You forgot to send it. The picture,” she reminded, shifting her eyes in the opposite direction.

“O-Oh, right. One moment.” He pulled his phone out and switched it on. No more than a couple of seconds later, the picture he took earlier had encompassed the entire screen, their likeness on display.

Nothing about it had changed. It was still as she remembered it.

“You caught me off guard with that,” she commented, betraying no emotion.

“Y-Yeah, sorry about that. I’ll give you a heads-up next time.”

“Next time?” She asked, a decibel quieter.

“Ah, well, do you… not like taking pictures?”

“Nothing of the sort,” she assured. “I’ve never been surprised like that before.”

Until now.

“I-Is that so? Gosh, I never knew.” He scratched the back of his head, shrinking away.

“It’s fine, because—” She glanced back at him, and unknowingly leaned a small bit closer to him.

“—I’m better prepared for your surprises, now.”

"...!"

Chapter Text

A pair of cold, pale hands rested inside an indentation carved inside a sliding door, and the boy they were attached to deliberated whether or not to open it with a sharp intake of breath. Such hands would be described as 'sickly' or 'dead,' by many of his peers, garnering a rather unnecessary amount of attention to his health, not that he minded nor cared. 

Nagito Komaeda's classmates were far too kind to him, given his talent or lack thereof.

The faded lettering overhead the doorway read '77-B.' Still legible, but not pristine. An unexplainable feeling of mild disdain escaped him as a click from his tongue. It was irrational, yes, but the maintenance of such an esteemed establishment seemed somewhat lacking. The staff would do well to take care of such grounds. 

He parted the door to the side with care, greeted with the familiar sight of ornate rows of wooden desks. Most were empty, which made an amount of sense given how early he had awoken— 

The sound of soft snoring ripped him away from the turbulence of thought, reminding him that indeed, most of the desks were empty. The outlier sat three seats receding from the front, against the rightmost wall (his right, at least) under the windows. While strange, it wasn't a complete abnormality. Very, very few aspects of this school could be considered normal, which in itself created a strange new normal. Nothing short of fascinating in his humble opinion. 

Ah, the blinds are still down.

The lanky boy made his way toward the window closest to the occupied desk. In any case, it was clear this was no intruder. On the contrary, she was quite a familiar person. 

"Class rep, how long have you been here?" He asked with a mix of concern and curiosity. 

"Mmmmm..." The girl stirred.

"I see," he replied, assuming her groan to be one of annoyance. Nagito turned away and stepped backward before his hands grasped the pull strings to the blinds. 

"I'm going to lift the blinds, alright?" He asked, somewhat gentler. 

"Mmmph...?" 

Nagito rhythmically pulled the cord toward him, inviting warm, yellow rays into the dimmed classroom. He did so slowly, attempting to not startle the half-asleep girl in front of him. An effort he found to be in vain, judging by her low groan intensifying in volume with each tug of the string. 

"Apologies, Class Rep. That must've been quite bothersome." He released the cord from his spindly hands as he turned to face her. 

"Then why'd you do that...?" She mumbled, languidly lifting her head to glare dull daggers at him." 

"Class will be starting soon, I'm afraid." 

" Hnnng ... what a bore..." 

"Please keep your chin up, Class Rep. It's not a good look on you and Class 77-B." 

"I knooooow but..." She groaned, trailing off into a soft sigh as she peeled her head from her desk. She retained a thin squint, most likely from the rays of sunshine from the windows. Nagito couldn't help but notice a thin pool of saliva on the desk. She must've been asleep for lord knows how long. 

"Here." He offered a handkerchief with his hands, which Nanami belatedly pinched with her smaller, somewhat calloused fingers. 

"...Thank you." She gingerly used the cut of cloth to wipe away at the stain. 

The sound of sliding alerted Nagito to the door near the chalkboard, and yet another familiar face found itself through the entryway. The newcomer's auburn hair had little of its usual neatness, and judging from the haphazard stack of documents and papers she held to her chest, it appeared she had been in a rush. 

"Ah, Yukizome-sensei. Good morning." 

"Oh, Nagito-kun! You're up early," she beamed, her bright eyes mitigating the almost unnoticeable dark bags under her eyes. Another blemish upon her usual clean appearance. 

"Have you been well, sensei?" 

"You know me! I'm a busy housekeeper at heart!" She continued her wilting smile as she paced toward the podium. "But recently, I've been busier than usual. New policies with the school, unfortunately." 

"That explains a lot of your recent absences, I assume." 

She sighed. "Yes. I'd rather be here with you guys, but the Headmaster needed all hands on deck." Yukizome placed the ream onto the wooden stand, then peered over Nagito's shoulders.

"Chiaki-chan, did you come here early to nap?" 

She shook her head, exhaustion dragging it to a slowed pace. 

The mildly concerned look on their teacher's face had been replaced with a fierce, stern look. "You told me you'd go back to your dorm after class yesterday! What if you got a cold or if Sakakura-san caught you in these buildings after hours?!" 

The gamer drooped her head. "I'm sorry, sensei." Her words were slurred. "I'm just feeling—" She paused to yawn into her hand. "—Under the weather lately." 

Yukizome's expression once again shifted into something worrisome. "Oh dear, is everything alright? Please tell me you aren't actually sick." 

"No, I feel okay... I think." 

"If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask," Yukizome smiled warmly, patting Nanami's mauve hair. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

The most immediate response the rep gave her was in the form of a red flush around her cheeks, causing her to face toward the window she had held in ire mere minutes ago. 

"If you don't want to—" 

"—No, it's okay," Nanami interrupted. She took a breath in as she appeared to prepare herself. "... Hajime-kun told me the other day that he'd have his first day off for the first time in two months, so I got excited," she confessed, seeming to shrink with every passing word. 

"But then something came up and he had to call off," she pouted, and combined with her blushing, Nagito had to admit she seemed quite adorable at the present moment, not that it was relevant. 

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear, Chiaki-chan," Yukizome reassured. "I know all too well how boys can be." 

"Right? But I know it's not his fault..." 

Their chattering had been drowned out with a sweeping thought within Nagito, placing a finger to his chin. 'Hajime-kun' must refer to that reserve course boy that Nanami spent her time around. He couldn't fathom as to why someone as admirable as her would grace her time with someone far beneath her capabilities, but as it stood he had no reason to object to whatever or whoever she kept company. 

Nagito was, after all, beneath the ranks of talent as well.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder what she saw in such an unremarkable boy. Perhaps there was more to him than meets the eye..? Regardless, that was for her to know, and for himself to keep out of their affairs. For now. 

"GOOD OM-NOM-NOMMING!" 

Oh dear.

Another one of their classmates had slammed the door open with an equally loud and rambunctious volume that was unbefitting of the once-quiet morning. The shrill lilt was rather easy to identify and attribute to just one other member of Class 77. 

"Good morning, Mioda-san," Nagito muted in complete opposition to her brash introduction. Hopefully, she could read the room after all that...? It's far too early to be this loud. 

" Whaaaaaat?! Komaeda, you beat me here?!" 

... It appears she couldn't after all. 

"It'd be a waste to enjoy a morning like this whilst asleep, no? Aside from that I was in charge of morning duty, anyway." 

"Hum hum! You're quite the responsible student!" The musician nodded vehemently.

"Please, you give me too much credit," Nagito deflected with a wry smile.

Mioda's head swiveled around the mostly bereft classroom, but evidently, something or someone caught her attention from behind Nagito. 

She paused to squint from around his right side, hand shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun. "My oh my! Chiaki-chan is still here all this time?" 

"Mmmph... Morning Ibuki..." 

"Are ya still worked up over yesterday?" She tilted her head.

"... Yes..." 

" Doooon't worry Class Rep! I'm all ears! But not literally because that would be kinda strange—!" 

"If you would excuse me for a moment," Nagito bowed, taking this as his cue to leave. 

"Nagito-kun, is something the matter?" Yukizome asked, raising a brow. 

"Nothing of the sort; I'm just searching for my bag," he lied, slinking away. "My luck has taken a turn for the worse recently." 

"And where do you think you're going...?" 

Another stern, distinctly feminine voice called his attention to the red-haired girl who blocked the doorway. 

"Koizumi-san, good morn—" 

"It's clearly not a good one, Komaeda! Are you really going to leave our Class Rep like this? You boys can be super unreliable, you know that?" She scolded with an excessive albeit warranted amount of vitriol. A boy did, after all, reduce Nanami to such a depressed state.

He sighed, gazing at the shorter girl below. "That wasn't my intention. I meant no offense," he attempted to placate. "In any case, I don't believe I'll be much help here, and I do plan on returning." 

"You'd better! You missed enough of class when you got suspended at the start of the term!" 

He responded with a hazed chuckle. "I'm well aware, and I won't be long." 

Her expression softened, although it still retained a good portion of her fierceness. "Well, promise me you'll be back. You have a track record of being unusually sneaky." 

"I will." 

"I'm serious, Komaeda." 

He began to shamble toward the doorway. "I know," he assured with a languid wave of his hand as he stepped out into the warm and somewhat populated hall. It wasn't as if he lied completely since his bag had disappeared for whatever reason. As he had finished sliding the door shut, he felt an itch in his throat and felt his affixed smile coming undone. 

"I should—" 

He hacked into his right palm, the disgusting phlegm and saliva dislodging itself from his throat after the third or fourth cough. His health, or lack thereof was no real surprise to anyone at this point of their shared school year together, although he couldn't help but shuffle away whenever any symptoms should bare their ugly fangs at himself or whomever happened to be in the vicinity. The latter especially was not ideal in the slightest; he should not, and could not be a burden to the rest of his classmates. 

"It must be a cold," he assured himself.

Lost in his fixation on his issues, Nagito found himself inside one of the restrooms, facing the mirror. Half-dead eyes bore into his being, scrutinizing and criticizing his disheveled appearance. He thought that in his absentmindedness, he may have wandered in here. Or perhaps he instinctively navigated to the restroom on the floor to properly dispose and cleanse himself of his own filth and sick. It mattered not. This was convenient for him. 

He stared at his begrudged reflection for an odd moment or so, before removing his grip from the sides of the sink's bowl. 

"I should inform the other classmates as well." He finished his earlier statement as he waved his hands underneath the air dryer, which did not seem to activate. Two additional waves did nothing, either. It was only the fourth time he had done so that the machine whirred to life, spewing out warm air with a ridiculous amount of force that almost forced him backward. 

As he struggled to wash his hands under the relentless wind crashing onto his drying hands, he noticed from his peripherals that a stray piece of tissue paper blew out from a garbage bin. It wafted through the air and landed in front of a boy who had just finished up in the respective stall. 

The boy stepped on the tissue, which caused him to slip and roll outside of the washroom. He crashed into a group of students that seemed to be transporting a poster, toppling many of them over each other. 

Among those that fell, one in particular—a girl he also did not recognize—was slammed rather brusquely into a completely unrelated passerby hauling a grey cart full of vivid-colored flasks and vials. Judging from the white lab coat and his balding hair, it may have been an instructor or lab aid. It mattered little. What caught Nagito's attention were the chemicals on the cart, or rather what happened as they slammed together into a grayish, sizzling puddle emitting foul-smelling plumes of smoke upward. 

The white-haired boy instinctively covered his ears as the fire alarm bells screamed throughout the hall, releasing a shower of water. Initially, it did little to diminish the smoke, and if anything caused it to increase in volume. Thankfully, the black fog cleared up, and in the place of the puddle was a sizable hole that burned through the flooring. 

Nagito waited a few moments before stepping outside. He coughed once more, however, it was mostly in part from the smell of ash and melted ceramic from the floor. He felt no different, and the other students began to stir, implying that the smoke had no ill effects on them at the present. 

Deeming it safe to continue, he began walking toward the rather unfortunate group that had been toppled earlier, although a loud, booming voice stopped him in his tracks. 

"CEASE AT ONCE, THIEF!" 

Down the hall to his left, the Luckster turned to see what he presumed to be the thief in question; he wore the same, brown blazer as all students in the Main Course did and carried a half-dozen school bags on his right shoulder. Other than that, he did not know him, and there was nothing about his appearance that could be considered noteworthy. Slightly behind was a boy with spiked, black hair, an unusual white uniform, and fierce crimson eyes that matched well with his intensity. 

"STOP RIGHT NOW OR FACE EVEN GREATER CONSEQUENCES!" The red-eyed boy yelped once more. 

The runner stuck his tongue out behind him, but the smarmy attitude had been immediately wiped away as his left foot caught in the newly-made hole, causing him to lurch forward and launch the stolen merchandise upward into the air. One of which Nagito caught rather easily into his arms. 

"How curious." He turned the bag over, examining it before his eyes caught a familiar name tag. 

Komaeda Nagito

"How curious, indeed," he repeated, reveling slightly in his fortune and the thief's lack thereof. 

That's one of many things to cross off his schedule. 

•••

"So, uh, what's the deal with Nanami lately?" 

A boy, covered in various kinds of greases spoke to the side. He appeared transfixed on the underbelly of a motorcycle, working the torque wrench tirelessly. Honestly speaking, Fuyuhiko had absolutely zero clue as to what the Fuchsia-haired boy was doing, or why the hell he'd been ratcheting that stupid fuckin' tool for so long. 

"Apparently, some douche got her all mopey, so now she's been pretty lethargic for however long," Fuyuhiko parroted, or rather, paraphrased from a source he would consider to be unreliable.

Kazuichi paused. "Eh? Never knew she had a guy friend." He continued working, restarting the incessant noise.

"How the hell did you not get the memo? I swear to god she mentions him often enough for most people in class to know." 

"Well, sorry I got shit to do down here." 

Fuyuhiko pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, long story short, Nanami's been sad for a bit." 

"Yeah, I get it." 

"And here's the kicker; that freak Komaeda says he's got plans for her." Fuyuhiko raised an eyebrow, semi-incredulous of the claim itself. Half the shit that guy had to say was barely worth trusting anyhow.

Soda finally stopped rotating the torque. Good; that shit was getting on his nerves. 

"Woah, you don't think he's gonna steal her from that other dude, right?" 

"I don't fuckin' know, does that white-haired bastard seem like the type?" 

They stared at each other unmoving, unblinking, and definitely un-talking. That's not a word. 

" Naaaaaah ," they both said in unison. 

"So, did you ever find out what he meant by 'plans?'" The mechanic asked gingerly. 

"The rat-bastard only said some shit about how 'Her sadness will become a catalyst for a blooming emergence' or whatever the fuck," he spoke in air quotes, this time quoting Komaeda in his entirety. "And guess what? Right after that, he left. He fuckin' left. Without elaborating." 

"Sounds like him alright." Soda set down the wrench beside him and began reaching inside the assembly. "I'm kind of getting nervous thinking about what he's got in store." 

Fukuhiko scoffed in response. "Even worse since we're invited. Hell, everyone in the class is supposed to come in for his little get-together." 

"Well, we both know what his idea of 'fun' is," Kazuichi labored out as he hefted out a large machine-thing. "Knew it! The transmission was busted!" 

"Hey, whose motorcycle is that?" Fuyuhiko asked, leaning off the wall to inspect the vehicle. He recognized some of the rather loud and gaudy design choices; a trademark of none other than the Crazy Diamonds. 

"Seriously, who gave you this thing?" He repeated. 

"Eh? Oh, our junior. Class 78? Name's Oowada? Ring any bells?" 

" Haaah …” Fuyuhiko exhaled. “Didn't think you'd have the balls to touch up the bike belonging to the Leader of the Crazy-Fuckin'-Diamonds." 

"Hey! Despite his really weird hair and tough appearance, he was actually really nice and sincere about it! And I'm getting paid here!" Kazuichi shot back.

"Thought he was the type to coerce." 

"You are." 

"You little shit— Alright but how the hell did Oowada turn that motorcycle into a complete hunk of shit?" 

"My guess? Rough handling, combined with improper maintenance messed up the transmission. Thing can't even shift gears properly, and there’s a leak here for the fluid—" 

"I'm gonna be honest, I got no fuckin' idea what the hell you just said," 

"Ugh, he didn't treat the bike well, and it broke!" 

"Better." 

They stood in silence as Kazuichi hovered around the 'transmission', prodding and picking at it with his fingers. Whatever the hell he was doing, he more or less knew much more than the mobster 

"About that invitation," The Mechanic spoke up suddenly, dusting his hands off. "I... Think I wanna go." 

"Gonna take your chances with that freak?" 

"I mean, I haven't been back to class in almost forever, it'd be nice to just drop in once in a while." 

"You just want to see Nevermind, huh?" 

"H—Wha—?" Soda stumbled backwards, nearly bumping the mechanical components off the adjacent shelf. "Th—That's not all there is to it, y'know!" 

"I'm fuckin' around, geez," Fuyuhiko waved him off as he turned around. "Wash yourself up, we're goin’."

"I thought you weren't!" 

"Never said I wasn’t," he smirked. "I kinda wanna see what we're up against. 'Sides, if you're goin', I'm goin'."

Kazuichi took off his beanie and gingerly wiped away the beads of sweat on his forehead. His face contained an expression that could be best described as mild confusion. 

"... Even after all the shit you talked?" 

•••

"A little flour on the tabletop, Akane-chan." 

"You got it!" She replied with an incredible, almost excessive amount of zeal, swiping a large flour sack with one hand and ripping apart the seam. 

"Alright! How much, Teru?" Akane asked once more, tipping the nearly forty-kilogram bag over just short of actually serving the fine powder. 

"Ah, well, there was no need to open a new one," the chef—not cook—motioned to a smaller retail paper bag of bread flour on the table. "I was actually saving that sack for that talent assessment project—" 

"Oh. Whoops, my bad!" Her chuckling cut his mumbling short, much to his chagrin. 

"Plus, that's cake flour. We're making brioche ¹ , Akane-chan." 

"Woah, you can tell what kinda flour it is from just looking? You're incredible!" 

Teruteru opened his mouth to retort some kind of snarky comment, but he quite literally gulped it down. Just take the compliment, especially if it came attached with huge—

"A-Anyway," he stuttered profusely, "Just toss a handful onto the tabletop, we don't need that much." 

"From this bag?" She gestured toward the flour on top of the wooden top. 

"Yes, that's the one." 

She proceeded to scoop up and sprinkled a rather large handful of the bread flour onto the work surface. "So uh, how did you tell them apart exactly? Are the colors different? Smell? Tell me, tell me!" 

"The labels, for one, but pure experience can be just as effective!" He lied. Seriously, it’s a bit difficult to tell bread flour and cake flour apart at a glance.

...

The tanned girl's face fell into slight confusion as she doubled back and reread both bags. "... Oh! Man, I feel dumb." 

Yes, you are quite airheaded, you well-endowed—

He wiped the perversion off from his mind, along with the perspiration on his forehead with a well-worn hand towel. "Now now, let's not put ourselves down here in the kitchen, especially with someone as charming and helpful as yourself." 

"Huh, you really think so?" She asked as she put the newly-opened sack back into the bottom compartment of the cupboard in a haphazard manner. He'll have to correct that later. 

"Of course I do, you've been a great help for as long as we've known each other," he answered in an uncharacteristic honesty. "There's a lot of heavy lifting involved in the culinary arts, you know." 

"Yeah, I'm pretty strong huh?!" She yelped, flexing her bicep. 

"Quite so, and a real feast for the eyes if I do say so myself,” he snickered the last part to himself in hushed tones.

"Whatever that means!" She smiled dumbly. "So, when are you done? I'm hungry!" 

"We still have to knead the dough, and this is just one of four loaves we're making." 

"There's no way you can finish that all by yourself!" 

"No, but I'm confident you can! That's another reason why you're quite valuable here." 

"Nice! Carbs taste so good!" She beamed, and Teruteru imagined she was salivating at the moment. 

"Yes, the leftovers are all yours, my friend. Not only will you get to eat your fill, but your feedback is much appreciated." 

"Feedback? For what?" 

"I'm testing different ratios of ingredients to see which will yield the most supple, most buttery, and the most delectable brioche. You, the taste-tester, can determine what does and doesn't work." 

She took off her hairnet and scratched the back of her head. "I dunno, I'm not a professional taster or anything like that, I just like to eat!" 

"Remember to wash your hands and wear the hairnet in the kitchen." 

"'Kay!"

He cleared his throat. "It's perfectly fine that you're not a 'pro,'" He continued with air quotes. "I'd honestly prefer your input over those snobbish gourmet-freaks. You could feed them shit onna platta and dey'd eat et rite up— " 

"Teru! You're speaking funny again!" 

He clamped his jaw shut with his hand. He let it slip, god-damn it. "My apologies, I have no idea where that came from," he attempted to play off, resuming his role as a prestigious chef from Aoyama. As if. "What I meant is that I want to make food that accessible to anyone, regardless of who they are." 

"Woah, that's actually... a really cool thing you said for once!" She smiled. 

"Why does that sound so backhanded...?" 

She pumped her fist into the air. "But, If I'm really that important to this bread experiment thing, then I won't hold back—!" 

"Knock knock, dipshits." 

The pair whipped their head around to see a short-statured boy with a rather childish-looking face, accompanied by a taller one in an unusually clean navy-blue mechanical attire.

"Language, please!"  Teruteru called to his new ‘guests.’

"Didn't you just swear a second ago—" 

"Did you guys hear? About an invitation from Komaeda?" The smaller Kuzuryu interrupted.

Teruteru raised a brow. "N-No, I don't believe I have,"

"From what he said, he wants to try and cheer up Chiaki. Personally, I don't trust a damn thing he considers to be uplifting, so me and Kaz here are gonna check it out." 

"H-Hey! No one told me I was on security detail!" 

"You are now," the mobster sneered, turning his attention back toward Teruteru. "You guys comin' or what?" 

"I—" The Chef gazed at Akane to gauge her reaction, which seemed to have become somewhat upset. 

"Who do I gotta beat up this time?! Point me and I'll tear 'em a new one—!" 

"Now now, Akane-chan, let's not jump to conclusions yet," the chef placated. "We know of Komaeda-kun's rather... volatile history, but it's just a suspicion so far. We do have matters to attend to." 

The tan's expression softened, albeit slightly. "I-I know, but still..." 

"Go or no go, I don't care," Fuyuhiko scoffed. "But I think this is important enough to take a couple hours of your time off." He began to shuffle away, hands in his pockets. "C'mon, Soda." 

The mechanic scurried after him but quickly paused to look their way once more. "W-Well, uh, hope you guys consider it maybe," he stammered. "I know Fuyuhiko's abrasive and all but, the more the merrier, right?" He flashed an awkward, jagged smile, before continuing after Fuyhiko. 

"Indeed," Teruteru whispered, wiping his hands with a cloth. It was a gesture born more from habit than out of necessity. A sort of nervous tick he presumed. "Well let's continue..." 

He trailed off as he faced the Gymnast, still smoldering in silence. "A-Akane-chan, are you worried?" 

"Well, who wouldn't be?" She sighed, resting her head on her palm. "We can't just leave our class rep hanging like that, can we...?" 

"It definitely pains me to hear, but I'm not too sure what we can do," he lamented. 

"There's gotta be something we can do, right?!" she cried, trying to run her fingers through her hair, until promptly realizing she still had the net on. "I wish I was good at ideas..." she moaned. 

Teruteru sighed along with her. "If only..." 

"Teru! Let's hurry up and bake the damn loaf! I feel better when I eat." She pounded her fist into her open palm.

"Patience, dear, we still have to—" he felt a proverbial lightbulb enlighten midway through his response. "Wait that's it! I'm such a fool sometimes." 

"What's it? " She asked, poking and prodding the round ball of wet dough. "Hey, is this edible?" 

"Raw dough is generally not safe to eat, so put that down." 

"Alright, alright." She set the lump back down onto the floured surface. 

"But yes, that's a great idea, Akane-chan! Let's make her something that will be sure to lift her spirits!" He continued.

She tilted her head in presumed befuddlement. "Uh, thanks? I don't know what I did." 

"Nevermind that, could you grab that sack of cake flour you opened moments ago?" 

"Huh? I thought we were making bread!" 

"We were, but er… change of plans," he smiled dimly. 

"Aw, so no eating just yet?" Her face fell, and she made her way back to the cupboard with drooped shoulders.

"Not to worry, Akane-chan," he assured, adjusting the toque blanche on his head. "Because we're going to bake a cake for the whole class." 

He swore he never saw her eyes light up so fast. 

•••

"Well, that was fuckin' unexpected." 

The blond at the foot of the door blurted out into the mostly vacant classroom, dyed in flavors of darkness due in part to the lowered blinds. He had on a bewildered stare; his eyes bouncing from wall to wall. Without a doubt, the rather colorful albeit tacky decorations pinned to the corners of the ceiling seemed to at least captivate the attention of both the mobster and the mechanic beside him, regarding the scene with a similar befuddlement. 

"You... set this up?" Soda spoke up, adjusting his greasy beanie. "There's no... bombs or traps anywhere, right?" 

"You seem to have a rather interesting perception of me." 

"Yeah, most would, dipshit." The heir to the Kuzuryu Clan answered in Soda's stead, with a rather humble volume. "Don't think this caution is unwarranted, especially with all the shit you've pulled before." 

"Please do not worry, there's nothing of the sort here. At the very least, everything barring my luck has been accounted for." 

"That doesn't make us feel better!" Soda quite literally pointed out.

Nagito sighed, hoping not to betray his exasperation. "In any case, I mean no harm. I share your concerns as well." 

Kuzuryu raised a brow. "That being?" 

"I wish no misfortune on Nanami-san. Now, if you'll excuse me." Nagito bowed, then began to shamble toward the open doorway. 

"Hold up, where the hell do you think you're goin'?" The blond stopped Nagito with his surprisingly sturdy arm. 

"I've done all I can. I'm no longer needed on the stage." 

"What makes you think that?! You're being real suspicious right now!" Soda pointed another accusatory finger at him. 

"I... would rather not bother everyone with my presence."

"Sure, but you set most of the decorations up. Might as well finish the rest." 

"Where'd the change of heart come from?" The Mechanic asked, already in the classroom hugging a box of miscellaneous items.

"Look who's talkin'." 

"Hey Komaeda, are you using this box? I think I can make a confetti launcher with this." 

"At least two of us are having fun," Kuzuryu mumbled, taking steps into the class. "Where's the tape? I'm gonna finish sticking these balloons up." 

"The desk nearest to mine," Nagito replied. 

"... Where is that again?" 

Nagito covered his mouth before giving in to a small chuckle. "We've been classmates a little over a year and you still don't know where I sit?" 

"Not my fault you're in and out of this class." 

"Hey guys, I'm finished!" Soda called out from his end of the class, which was the doorway closest to the chalkboard. The mechanism resembled a megaphone with a strange tank behind the funnel-like barrel, presumably to feed colorful pieces of decorous confetti. "I even did some wiring so that the launcher goes off when someone switches the lights on." 

"That was fuckin' quick," Kuzuryu commented whilst smoothing out a generous amount of tape from its air bubbles. "Hold on, lemme try." 

"Feel free, I need to see if it works after all." 

clik clak

With a lazy finger, Kuzuryu flicked the switch down and up, causing the light to temporarily darken before once more illuminating the classroom. 

"I ain't seeing any confetti," he reported.

"Weird, let me try rewiring it again." 

clik clak

Soda repeated the procedure, which yielded less than satisfactory results. 

"I could've sworn I did it correctly..." he mumbled to himself. "Hey Komaeda, you try."

Nagito finished sticking the last thumbtack onto the card stock decorations lining the edges of the ceiling, then shuffled toward the door. 

He rested his finger on the switch for mere seconds before pulling downward, then back to its original position— 

POP

The expected sound of rhythmic clicking had been completely drowned out by a loud blast of vivid multicolored bits of construction paper. It kept spewing its relentless assault, burying Kuzuryu in a mound of vivid shades of paper rainbow. 

Needless to say, the launcher worked far better than intended. Barring the first two attempts, of course. 

"Well, it worked," the mechanic echoed his thoughts aloud. "I just rerouted one of the wires here in the switch but—" he turned to gaze at where Kuzuryu had been engulfed. 

"—Hey, uh, you okay in there?" He asked. 

"Fan-fucking-tastic." 

His head burst out of the rather tall mound following the muffled answer, causing some of the shreds to fall around them. "Isn't this thing too powerful? You could seriously— ptoo —kill someone with this," He questioned, spitting out some of the confetti. 

"Yeah, I'm toning down the settings right now." 

Nagito gazed at the rather ridiculous scene and couldn't help but feel a fit of laughter break out, despite his attempts at suppressing them. 

"What's so funny, jackass?" Kuzuryu grumbled, sounding less threatening and more annoyed even with the glare he had on.

"The new look suits you." 

"Shaddup, man," he replied, cracking a faint despondent smile. 

"Yeah, I wish you could've seen the look on your face when the launcher blew up on you!" Soda added, joining Nagito's giggles. 

"Y-Yeah yeah, laugh it up," the yakuza grinned, barely containing a laugh of his own. 

The snickers eventually evolved into a loud chorus of unabated laughter. The scene grew intense enough to draw the attention of a couple of students walking down the hall before they continued onwards after a prolonged stare. 

"I just—I just can't believe that shit just happened!" Soda cackled, now grasping his stomach and leaning against the wall with a free hand. 

"And how the confetti completely covered you," Nagito added, putting a hand over his mouth to shut himself up. "I don't think anyone else barring Saionji-san would've been short enough to get buried under a literal mound of paper shreddings." 

Kuzuryu's only response was fading laughter, wiping a small tear from his left eye. " Haaaah ... By the way, what time is it?" 

"It's uh—" Soda whipped his head around to the clock in front of the room, atop the chalkboard. "—12:45." 

"Oh, shit—!" The Mobster burst out of his papery cocoon, kicking up and scattering the paper almost everywhere. "That's five minutes 'til lunch is over! Komaeda, hand me a broom." 

"Got it." Nagito rushed over to the storage locker near the back of the classroom, then opted to toss it over for the sake of brevity.

"And a dustpan, too!" He added in a shout, then craned his attention to the mechanic. "Can you reload it?!" 

"Already on it! It's gonna take some time, though," he called back. "Can you guys also take care of those spare decorations? We're working against the clock here!" 

"God, this shit is damn near everywhere!" The mobster growled, having already swept up a majority of the spent confetti into the pan. "Komaeda! Just pin up a few of those balloons! There isn't a ton!" 

"I have the balloons, but the tape is nowhere to be found," the Luckster lamented on his end. 

"Shit! Where the hell did I put it?" The Mobster scowled. 

"Here, catch!" Soda popped open one of the pockets on his jumpsuit, then tossed the contents over to Nagito. "It's electrical tape, but it'll do the job!" 

"Do you always keep tape on your person like that?!" 

"That's not important right now, Fuyuhiko!" 

"This is quite a large roll of tape, how deep are your pockets Soda-kun?" 

"THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT!" He nearly screamed. 

"Alright, I think I got half of the damn pile!" Kuzuryu cheered from the front of the room, having dumped the confetti into a nearby bin. "Now for the...rest..."

He trailed off as his head swiveled across the expanse of desks. If Nagito had to guess, he must've seen how far the shreds of colored paper spread across the space. On the floor, on the tops of the desks, and on the teacher's stand, it appeared that anywhere near the blast zone seemed to have some amount of confetti littered on it. While not a tremendously large amount, the uneven distribution would make it time-consuming to cover the area by his lonesome.

Nagito hopped off a desk he had been standing on to tend to the decorations—Nidai's to be exact, judging by the odor—he rushed over to grab another broom set from the locker. 

"I'll help you, Kuzuryu-kun." 

The boy in question raised his eyebrow as he looked up at Nagito, then his expression softened into a wry smile. 

"Thanks, man." 

"Hey, hand me one too," Soda declared whilst squatting down to pick up the pieces. 

"Take this brush." Kuzuryu tossed the faded-grey tool over to Soda. 

"Thanks! And Nagito-san, can you get the desks?" 

"I thought you had forgotten my name," he replied with a muted chuckle. 

"Well, you're our classmate and all, it'd be rude if I did." 

"It's quite an honor." 

"Shaddup and sweep." The mobster cut in. 

The coming minute or so mostly involved the trio sweeping the floor and dusting off the desks with little words between them, save for the occasional favor. It wasn't just colored paper they seemed to pick up, either. An abundance of extraneous trash, filth, and strange items eventually lined the garbage bin in equal parts with the confetti. 

Such items included hamster pellets, a forgotten roll of film (which Nagito pocketed), an emblem of a foreign country, and a facial piercing with a bizarre appearance. Even someone like himself could figure out which items had been discarded by who within a quick glance. 

He found the trash somewhat charming, as it served as a reminder of the interesting characters that frequent this very classroom. 

"Hey, Nagito! Stop staring into space!" The silver-haired boy heard a snap from his side, bringing his attention to Kuzuryu. "I hear footsteps in the hall," he hushed in an urgent tone. 

"I'm shutting the lights off," Soda whispered from the side of the doorframe, following with a sharp flick that dimmed the room. 

"Oi, this is a surprise party right? Should we actually fuckin' surprise whoever waltzes through the door?" Kuzuryu hissed, visibly biting back his normal volume.

"Yes, that was my intention." 

"How do we know the goddamned girl-of-the-hour is supposed to be coming in right now? For all we know some random asshole could walk in and the entire surprise would be ruined!"

"She will come." Nagito, for once, had silenced the mobster with a low, determined voice. 

"Never mind that! Where should we hide?!" Soda cut in, with mild panic written across his face. 

"Do we even need to hide?! We can just wait around the corner—"

"Oh shit! Someone's coming!" 

Kuzuryu and Soda, then Nagito shortly after scrambled toward an ample hiding spot before the assumed guests were to make their appearance. The former chose the corner closest to the door, adjacent to the chalkboard. The mechanic ducked under the front-rightmost desk, situated near the light switch. 

The latter, Nagito himself, instead took a leisurely pace toward to storage locker in the complete opposite corner of the Mobster, swinging the metallic door to a noiseless close just in time to hear one—no, three— pairs of footsteps stop just short of the ajar door. 

"I know, Chiaki-chan, but class isn't so bad!" a shrill, melodic voice consoled from the hall. 

"Mmm... I just wanna play more games... and nap... maybe both..."

"You napped enough in the counselor's office." A sterner voice this time joined in. "Also, were the lights always off? And why are the blinds down again?" 

Here it comes.

The redhead, now evidently Koizumi, poked her head through the doorway, then swiveled her head around the darkened room. It did not seem like she saw the other two boys. If she had, she made no comment. 

With bated breath, Nagito watched from inside the locker vents as her slender hands snaked their way up the wall and onto the light switch.

Flik

"Anyway—" 

POP

"Waugh?!"

"Woah?"

"Mm...?"

As expected the delirious gamer seemed to have to most muted reaction, although all three of the girls seemed to jump back in varying degrees of surprise. 

"Confetti...?" Koizumi puzzled, glancing at the palm of her hand. 

"Surprise—woah?!" 

"Sur—You dumbass—!"

The next moment came as a blur. Both Soda and Kuzuryu jumped out of their hiding spots, however, something had caused the mechanic to lurch forward onto the other, causing the two to trip over each other into a rather embarrassing pile.

Nagito stifled his laughter. "Not an ideal surprise, I must say." 

"Who's there?" Mioda chimed in, more curious than startled judging by the tone of her voice. 

Nagito quickly unlocked the locker door (with some luck) and stepped out into the now-lit classroom. Placing his hands into his pockets, he took slow, careful steps toward the door where the three girls and two very angry boys stood, the latter of which were occupied in a heated shouting match. 

The silver-haired boy cleared his throat. "Surprise, Nanami-san." 

•••

"You did all of this... for me...?" 

Their class representative marveled at the various pinned decorations. The light from the incoming sun having revealed that a good portion of which had been placed sloppily or in a haphazard manner—one corner of which had already begun dangling from a single piece of tape—presumably from working in such dim conditions. The result was a tacky, flimsy appearance that was nothing short of embarrassing to look at. 

Nagito could only give a wry, beaten smile. 

"I hope you'll excuse the appearance," Nagito uttered an apology.

"It could be better, but..." Mahiru had also taken a gander, with a far more critical squint than either of her two peers. "... I'm glad. It's really sweet of you." 

"I wasn't alone, although this was my idea," Nagito attempted to brush her compliment off. "Soda-kun and Kuzuryu-kun deserve more credit." 

"Hope the confetti launcher didn't startle you guys too bad," Soda joined, adjusting his beanie. "I set it up pretty quick, so it's not exactly fine-tuned." 

"It's awesome! Lemme try? Pleeeeeaaaase? Pretty pleeeeaaaaaase?" Ibuki blustered with a glint in her eyes. 

"Uh, yeah. Just flick the light switch." Soda instructed. "Let me get some more though." 

"Can I flick it right now?" 

"Feel free, but watch out for when I actually start refilling the thing," He warned shortly after she started switching the lights at a frenzied pace. The constant strobe-like flicker, combined with the rapid popping and spewing of paper had been nothing short of nauseating for the Luckster. Judging by the expressions of nearly everyone else, he wasn't alone in the sentiment. 

"Hey, cut that shit out!" Kuzuryu shouted, veins bulging from his forehead. 

"Please, you ran the launcher completely dry!" Soda added, feeding more colored paper into the launcher's hopper. 

"Hehe, soooorry!" she sang, reaching out to flick the switch back on for the last time. 

"A-Ah, am I late—eep!" 

The newcomer's violet hair had been assaulted by a colorful array of paper, and it appeared the sudden noise of the launcher had startled her enough to trip. Her fall had primarily been softened due to Kuzuryu obstructing the path, for better or for worse. 

"Ah... Oh no, I-I'm late and I tripped and now I'm a complete mess pleasepleaseplease don't look it's embarrassing—" 

"You're not late and GET OFF OF ME!" The blond cut her sobbing off. He slammed his palms onto the ground, attempting to raise himself off the floor to no avail. It seemed that their resident Nurse was too much for Kuzuryu to handle. 

"I-I'm sorry! I'll g-get up, just please don't—" 

"I'm not gonna hurt you for fuck's sake!" 

He eventually managed to push Tsumiki off of his back with effort, taking the time to dust himself off. 

Nagito crossed his arms and regarded the shorter boy with slight displeasure. "Bullying girls, Kuzuryu? Not—" 

"Don't fucking say it." 

He opted to keep his mouth shut. 

"Tsumiki, are you okay?" Nanami knelt down to the nurse's fallen state. Perhaps to check for possible injury? A woefully ironic gesture. Koizumi then whipped her head around to face the Kuzuryu with an intense glare. "And what do you have to say for yourself?! You could've hurt her, and you don't look the least bit sorry!" 

"I feel like that was a pretty reasonable reaction to being rammed into the goddamned ground. Nice for my standards, actually." 

"You—!" 

"Damn, hope we made it in time!" 

More invitees had made themselves apparent at the door. The largest—by quite a margin—spoke for them, and following close behind were two blonds, one of significantly shorter stature than the other, royal one. The edgier boy shrouded in a long violet scarf hung back, which Nagito presumed he had to be preparing a rather flashy entrance. 

"Ah, hello... guys..." Nanami said whilst nodding off.

"Mahiru~!" The shortest of the crowd pinched the edges of her kimono as she scurried over to the photographer. 

"Hiyoko-chan!" Koizumi held her arms out, holding Saionji’s hands in her own.

"Oh, Nidai-san? I thought you were busy coaching the first years," said Soda. 

"Oh, THAT?" He boomed, causing a number of miscellaneous items in the rest of the class to vibrate. "I'm not scheduled to coach Class 78 until after this week!" 

"Huh? Then, what the hell have you been doing for the better part of the morning?" 

The Manager's eyes turned flinty as he stared at Soda with a somber expression, pointing an index finger at nothing in particular. "I took the biggest sh—" 

"Stop, stop right there! I've heard enough!" Soda yelled, yanking his beanie over his face and slapping his palms over his covered ears. 

"Really? It was about this big—" 

"Hey, HEY! Keep that shit. IN THE WASHROOM!" Kuzuryu snapped at Nidai. 

"Heh, keep that shit in the bathroom, " Mioda hazard a chuckle from behind her hands. 

"GodfuckingDAMMIT!" He kicked at a nearby desk with what seemed to be a noticeable amount of effort, resulting in... a slight displacement. 

"CEASE THIS INCESSANT CHATTER AT ONCE, AS I, THE HERALD OF DEATH—" 

"DON'T ACT LIKE YOU JUST GOT HERE, ASSWIPE! I KNOW YOU HUNG BACK IN THE HALL TO FLIRT WITH SONIA-SAN!" Soda cried out, pointing a finger. 

"Insolent fool, you watch your tongue—!" 

"Let's settle down, shall we? This is not befitting of a celebration!" Sonia placated with her usual royally overly-polite tone. She placed both of her hands on Tanaka's raised forearm, lowering it for him. 

"I-I understand, now is no time to unleash my fury." He pushed his scarf to cover the better part of his flushed face. 

"If all's fair in love and war... why do I keep losing...?" The mechanic buried his head in his arms with hyperbolic sobs. 

"I keep getting reminded that our class is full of morons." Kuzuryu deadpanned, groaning much too loud.

"Hey, you didn't have to say it out loud!" 

"So you were thinking it too, eh Kaz?" 

"Well I—Shut up, you!" He choked.

"A-Aren't we missing a few?" Tsumiki mentioned.

"We are, I'm afraid," Nagito answered with crossed arms. "Yukizome-sensei is busy, Hanamura-san and Oowari-san are undecided, I have little clue where the Impostor could be, and Mitarai-kun—" 

"Oh, that guy." 

"Who?" 

"Why'd you even bother mentioning him?" 

"That guy stinks!" 

"Hiyoko-chan! Be nice!" 

Nagito stifled a sigh. "Even if he's never done as much as speak to us before, I did try to reach out but..." 

"But...?" Kuzuryu gestured. 

"... I think he boarded up any feasible entrances to his dorm." 

"... You're kidding?" 

"The windows from outside seem to have something blocking them. It's not far-fetched to assume he's placed a blockade of some kind." 

"Th-That's nuts..." 

"The animator life is a hard life, eh?" 

"I can admire his dedication, at least," Nidai nodded.

"So the guy we've barely ever met is a no-go! Bummer!" Ibuki deflated. 

"What about Pekoyama-san?" Nanami yawned as she appeared to have awoken from another nap. 

"Beats me," Kuzuryu shrugged as he sat on the chair he had kicked earlier with a small hop. "Knowing her she's either practicing her Iaido² or she's petting some kittens."

"Kittens?! Where?!" The ever-present sparkle in Mioda's eyes brightened by a number of watts.

"Not here, that's for sure," Mahiru answered, turning back to the mobster. "You did tell her right? Can she not come?" 

"I... did. She didn't really say anything." 

"Sounds suspiciously unsure!" Ibuki lilted. 

"You're like the closest person to her! You're telling me she just didn't say anything?" 

"Guess she didn't have anything to say," he shrugged again, although it seemed hesitant and forced. The insincerity of the action seemed to draw the attention of the rest of their peers to Kuzuryu, who had turned his gaze to the window. "Not to me, at least." 

Uncomfortable, suffocating silence. It lasted a mere three seconds but was nonetheless a dampener on the vibrant energy the class typically had on display. 

"Did, ehm, you two..." Koizumi shifted her eye's uneasily, failing to meet his glare a number of times. As if she were concerned. 

Or afraid. 

"... Did you two... break up?" 

His rather childish face scrunched up as he sputtered into a coughing fit. "The fuck?!"

"I-Impossible! How could this be?! Such an unyielding bond now in mere tatters?!" Tanaka spoke with an expression of shock Nagito couldn't tell was genuine or hyperbolic. 

"I bet she finally got sick of your attitude!" Hiyoko sneered from behind Koizumi. 

"Hey, that's not what happened! I hope." Kuzuryu hissed through his teeth. "We aren't even fuckin' dating." 

"Yet!" 

"PISS OFF!"

"Come join me. Better to lose together than to win alone," Soda offered with a tone not dissimilar to a drunken stupor. 

"For fuck's sake don't lump me in with you!" The mobster growled. "I just... I just told her that I won't be relying on her anymore. Not as an extension of me or my family's will but rather... as someone special to me..." He mumbled, trailing off near the end. 

"I-I never knew you cared so much for her," Tsumiki blubbered with tears welling in her eyes. 

"If I really cared, then why did I hurt her by telling her that—Look, forget I said anything, otherwise I'll have your heads on a fuckin' platter—" 

"There there," Nanami consoled, rubbing her hand on his back. Somehow. How did she sneak up on him without anyone else noticing? 

"H-Hey, cut it out—!" 

"I'm sure you two will make up soon." 

"Wishful thinking. I don't think she'll want to see me anytime soon," he scoffed, inching away from her touch. 

"Don't be like that!" She exclaimed, puffing her cheeks. "And besides, we can't exactly have a class gathering with missing members!" 

"Good luck getting Mitarai-kun out of his cave..." Soda snidely remarked.

"The Sealing and Binding spells that acolyte has placed onto his abode are most foreboding indeed, however—!" Tanaka clapped his hands together in an incredible, resounding display and slowly pulled them apart to reveal... 

... a soft brown toy in the shape of a rodent. 

"While humans are not bound by the same contracts as demons, I can indirectly will our fierce swordswoman here." 

"With a goddamn chew toy? Are you calling her a goddamned animal or something?!" 

"Do not misunderstand, cur! This offering is not for her, rather it's a mere catalyst." 

"Yeah? For what?" Soda raised his eyebrows with a question harsher than his expression. 

"COME FORTH, HIRUDORA³!!" 

The Breeder screamed, lightly tossing the toy upward to eye level. His violet scarf began ruffling and moving of its own volition, before giving way to a grey blur that zipped from the base of Tanaka's shrouded neck and tackled the toy to the ground. 

The creature's fur, given a silver sheen courtesy of the sun, turned out to be a small kitten. It was no larger than any of Tanaka's four devas, but it wrested with the pseudo rodent with such ferocity Nagito couldn't decide if the sight was frightening or adorable.

"That's it?" Kuzuryu deadpanned. 

"See for yourself, mongrel. The looking glass to your left," he motioned. 

"Is this some kind of stupid magic trick? This better be good—WOAH!" 

The mobster nearly fell backward at the mere glance of the upside-down silhouette outside the window. The figure's silver braided hair hung down, and her crimson eyes peered into the classroom as if to scrutinize something or someone. 

"What's the kitten's name...?" She finally mumbled through the window, ignoring the half-frightened-half-puzzled stares from the rest of her peers.

"He said it earlier, doofus!" Saionji spat. 

"Uh, that's not the problem here!" Soda cut in. "Why are you upside down?! Are you Spiderman, or Spiderwoman, or something?!" 

"The real question is why she's this high up! This is like, the fifth floor!" Koizumi added an oddity of her own.

“Why did she only show up when there was a kitten?!” Mioda gasped, throwing on theatrics of her own.

The class eventually devolved into little more than a large disorganized argument about which issue concerning Pekoyama appeared to be more important or relevant. 

Ergo, a pointless shouting match about arbitrary things. 

"Hey, can you come inside? You shouldn't do shit like that." Kuzuryu spoke with an uncharacteristic softness as he undid the lock on the window. He was barely audible above the roaring of the other students.

"Very well, if you would excuse me," her voice muffled through the glass before swinging herself inside the entrance Kuzuryu had just made, reorienting herself to a standing position midair with impressive dexterity. 

"...C-Can we talk? Over here." His nervous stutter was unlike him. The contrast took Nagito aback, and he thought for a moment how amusing his awkwardness was on display. 

Rescinding his gaze from the couple—sorry, the two—he attempted to gauge what asinine ideas the rest of the class had been virtually screaming about whilst Kuzuryu and Pekoyama had their heart-to-heart. 

"You believe you can best ME in the dark arts, boy?!" 

"The hell are you talking about?! This is a fighting game!" 

"How the hell did you guys even get a CRT TV and a friggin' console hooked up in the first place?!" 

"Has anyone seen my film?!"

“I-I’m sorry for being so clumsy…!”

.... Strange how the conversation could change like that. The cacophony was still quite a bit much. 

"... What is it?"  

His ears managed to hear Pekoyama's rather curt question from the opposite side of the room. Nagito knew better than to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help but pick up on fragments of their conversation. 

".... Well... you've... ignoring me."  

"I thought.... needed me anymore.."  

"That's not....I meant...!"  

"Then what.... am I... you?”  

"You're.... I.... You're...!"  

Admittedly, it was quite irritating how Nagito could hear less and less of the conversation as it progressed, even if they weren't for his ears to begin with. 

"I believe in you two," he whispered, losing it immediately to the chatter and excitement of the class.

"Hey, aren't we still missing a few heads?" Nidai boomed, silencing the rest of the class.

"Yeah, now that I think about it we're missing the perv, the moron, the fatass, and Yukizome-sensei!" Saionji snickered behind her hand. 

"Oh, and the animator—" 

"Real talk, why's he so mysterious?" Mioda asked with a puzzled expression.

"I have seen his soul through various scrying spells—" 

Soda groaned. "Save it for someone who cares!" 

"How do you perform these spells, Tanaka-kun?" Sonia asked, moving closer to him.

"W-Well, it requires—" 

Kuzuryu snorted. "Didn't take him long to find someone who did." 

"So where could they be? Don't tell me they decided to skip out!" Koizumi continued off Saionji’s comment.

"Last I saw, they were in Teru's kitchen," Soda scratched the back of his head. "They didn't say if they'd come, though." 

"This is like the one time we've been together as a class again! They better not be goofing off!" 

"They'll come,” said Nagito.

"Eh? What makes you so sure?" 

"They'll definitely come. I'm sure of it." 

"Gee, thanks for the explanation.”

"I think so too." Nanami declared. "Let's have faith in them." 

As if scripted, The Chef along with two other students rushed inside, with Oowari carrying a large platter of… is that…? 



"Did someone say cake?!" Hanamura asked, radiating excitement in his tone.

Soda stared at him, dumbfounded. "Not really?" 

"A party isn't complete without cake!" The other round student, The Imposter he presumed, panted.

Mioda squealed. "Ooh, cake!" 

"Don't tell me that's the reason you guys were late?" Soda asked, staring at the cake’s rather imposing mass.

"Yeah, I swung by his kitchen and found him frosting the cake. I just tagged along.” The Impostor answered.

"Sure you weren't trying to sneak a bite?" Saionji whispered to no one.

"Cakes don't exactly appear from thin air, after all," Hanamura remarked, ignoring the shorter girl’s comment.

"What about a bakery?" 

"Akane-chan you... beautifully smart woman, they make those cakes in advance." 

"... Oh." 

"Oh, that looks wonderful!" Koizumi clasped her hands together. "Can you boys push those desks together so we can put the cake down?" 

Kuzuryu scoffed. "Yeah, it has to be specifically boys." he mocked as he and Tanaka pushed the desks toward each other to form a larger table. "If it were girls, the desks would explode.” 

"Zip it." 

"Hey kiddos, I'm back—" A feminine voice called from the doorway, with the sight of a full classroom taking her aback. "Wow, everyone's here today! What gives?"

"Komaeda did it.” Kuzuryu pointed.

"All his idea, really.” Soda mirrored from Nagito’s opposite side.

"Please, you guys give me too much credit." Nagito put his hands up in mock surrender. "I just felt it was time we celebrated our Class Rep for working so hard for our sake." 

"Nagito-kun? You've planned all of this?" She looked around in wonder, then at each of his classmates, then back to him. "I... Wow, I'm so very proud of you, Nagito." 

"I-It's really not all that praiseworthy—" 

"I can't exactly scold you for a job well-done you know!" She smiled at him, its assurance forcing him to flit his gaze downward. "You did great," she continued.

"Yeah dude, just accept the praise!" Soda beamed with a thumbs-up. 

"When was the last time we were a class, eh?" Kuzuryu asked, turning a wry smile of his own. He tilted his head upward to Pekoyama, returning the gesture.

"I... see. Thank you, Yukizome-sensei, So—Kazuichi-kun, Fuyuhiko-kun." 

"About time you called me by my name!" Kazuichi teased. 

Hanamura adjusted his hair. "Now that the formalities are over, let's cut the cake!" 

•••

Nagito Komaeda watched on as his peers, class 77 cheered and roared in the midst of the festivities brought about by his (and a few others) hands. A small, beaten smile began etching itself onto his pale expression as the Chef and the Yakuza Heir delegated Pekoyama to slice the cake. Although, his smile refused to become more pronounced. A strange feeling held it in place as if to threaten Nagito's own happiness. 

Things like this, would not last forever. 

Class 77, now in their second year, would eventually graduate, study at a university, or acquire their dream career as the years streamed by. They would perhaps lose contact, and forget each other entirely. 

And sooner than that, Nagito may have already died. Hell, he already was a dead man walking.

He accepted this for quite some time, but his mortality still frightened him enough to spark tangential thoughts of his class' longevity. In time, all things ended. Hope, Despair, Joy, Pain. None were ever spared. 

Despite knowing this, it all still pricked at him. 

"Nagito-kun? Earth to Nagito-kun?" 

"... Ah, sorry." He apologized, turning to the voice on his right. It was Nanami, holding out a second plate in her left hand toward him. 

"It's okay. Are you feeling alright?" 

"I'm well, thank you. I'm just... lost in thought." 

"Ah, I see. Are you in the mood for some cake?" She tilted her head. "Because If you won't, I'll eat it." 

"I... wouldn't mind, no," he answered brusquely. "I'm flattered Hanamura-san would offer a piece of his cooking for me." 

"No need to be so formal, we've been classmates for a little over a year now," she assured, gently placing the plate onto his palms. 

"Thank you very much," he mouthed. "All of us in Class 77 greatly appreciate your kindness. I'm sorry we could only show this with a rather... improvised celebration." 

She brought a fork to her mouth. "Thank you... I think?" She muffled through a mouthful of cake. "I'm not that amazing. I just like this class very much." 

"Yes, and it's that compassion we admire in turn." He cut away a small portion of his slice with the side of his fork. The piece looked rough and jagged, despite the fluffy and decadent texture. "Nanami-san, what will you do after all of this?" 

"After the party?" 

"After Hope's Peak." 

She stopped chewing as her eyes stared into his. Eventually, her focus returned to her nearly-empty plate as she slowly began chewing again. "... I'm not sure. Maybe I'll become an online streamer or a QA tester for future titles." 

"Ah, I see. I believe you'll have a bright future ahead," he smiled.

"Well... I guess." She poked at a lone strawberry with a playful cadence as if she didn't intend to eat the fruit just yet. 

"Nanami-san, I must ask," Nagito announced, turning toward her. "Do you think that things should last forever?" 

"It's a strange question," she replied, wide-eyed. 

"Perhaps, but I've been wrestling with it for some time now." 

"Well..." She finally pierced the waxy red skin of the berry and brought it to eye level. "I wish some things lasted forever, and other things didn't happen at all," she spoke, much more solemn than Nagito expected, whilst gazing out of the window. Outside he could see the Reserve Course Facilities not too far from their own. 

I think I understand what you’re feeling.  

"But at the same time, it's all the more reason why I cherish these moments. With the class. With... him." Chiaki's eyes wandered around during her admission. "I miss those days after school when we'd laze around and play video games until he went home. But now that things are different, it feels... empty sometimes. Like a chunk of me is gone." 

"I'm sorry to hear, I never knew–"

"It's okay. I’m being a little dramatic." She cut him off. "It's only when after these moments are gone that I can truly value them, I think." 

Nagito sat unmoving, listening with an intense focus he found to be strange for him. 

"Sure, we won't always be classmates, and we won't always hang out as a class like today, but what matters is that it happened." She took a sharp inhale, as she was amusingly out of breath. "We're left with these precious memories and experiences, so what else can we do but cherish them?" 

Nagito nodded. "If everything were to be permanent, I would find life to be quite dull." 

She popped the strawberry from earlier into her mouth. "Right. That's why... I'll keep my chin up no matter what happens." 

"Is that... your hope?" 

She stared at him, her puzzled face becoming undone in favor of resolution. "Yes." 

Nagito stared at her, with eyes he'd imagine were far too wide. 

"Nanami-san, you truly are a wonderful person."