Chapter Text
Makoto Naegi was at an impasse in more ways than one.
Since his time trapped in the School Life of Mutual Killing, he’d acquired quite a talent for solving mysteries. And despite whatever accusations his disgruntled fellow employees liked to throw about in the breakroom, that was why he had been named Associate Director of the Investigative Division, not any personal connection he might have with the current head.
Hina had once told him that he had a knack for identifying contradictions in the things people said - a skill that had made him rather infamous among his juniors. No supposed illness nor conveniently deceased relative could stand under his line of inquiry. Attendance had increased exponentially following his promotion, earning him a rare compliment from Kirigiri.
Kirigiri who had once sacrificed and then saved his life. Kirigiri who had a highly analytical mind and didn’t do anything without benefit. Kirigiri who had just asked him to move in with her.
Makoto wanted -scratch that- needed to know why that was, but try as he might, his mind had yet to draw any conclusions. Impasse no. 1.
Impasse no. 2 was far less complicated. Impasse no. 2 was a doorknob. Makoto had set off from Togami’s office with the intention of getting a head start back to his used-to-be apartment, but made it only as far as the hall door.
His battered reflection in the round knob seemed to mock his futile attempts to twist it with his nondominant hand.
Just my luck, he thought, resting his forehead against the door in defeat.
All of a sudden, he felt something press against him. Startled, he whipped his head around, only to find himself staring into Kirigiri’s eyes. She had caught up without Naegi noticing and was reaching past him to turn the knob. The proximity of this action had her face nearly resting atop his shoulder. Makoto should have been thankful that his fright hadn’t caused them to butt heads, but all he could focus on was the way their noses were almost touching, the rising heat in his cheeks, and the hammering of his heart.
“You’re unbelievable sometimes.” Kirigiri whispered, but for the life of him Makoto couldn’t comprehend her meaning. The warmth of her breath as it danced across his skin had taken over all of his internal channels. Even his pain receptors seemed to have grown silent in the face of this intoxicating proxmity. His thoughts raced in unsteady circles as her lips moved steadily closer to his own.
He was afraid to move, afraid to even breathe if it meant shattering this moment.
Makoto heard a mechanical click as Kirigiri successfully turned the knob.
With the door now open, Kirigiri retracted her touch, marching out at a brisk pace without so much as a backward glance.
Makoto raced to catch up with her, but opted to remain a few paces behind to give himself the space to decipher what on earth just happened. He couldn’t see Kirigiri’s expression from his position, but it didn’t take an expert to notice the visible tension in her body language.
Was she mad at him?
She had called him unbelievable, but had that really come from a place of anger? Makoto had been on the receiving end of her wrath many a time, but it was never like this. An enraged Kirigiri was ice; her words were sharp and perfectly calculated to leave a biting chill in her wake, and even that was only if she felt benevolent enough to give you the time of day. Kirigiri preferred to keep a frigid distance from the object of her scorn, and given the close proximity of their recent encounter, Makoto was fairly certain he could rule out that possibility.
Was it irritation?
In a way, it made sense for her to be irritated. From the outside he was sure it looked like he learned nothing from the attack, leaving himself open like that. Maybe she had been aiming to teach him a lesson about letting his guard down? But then why do it in such a round-a-bout way? Why not just tell him off like usual?
Makoto heard himself let out a little frustrated sigh of his own. Immediately, the sound of Kirigiri’s footfalls came to a halt. She swiveled around to face him, her hair flying partway over her shoulder from the suddenness of the movement.
“Is your hand hurting you? If so, we can hold off on collecting your things until later.”
“I’m alright.” He assured her, offering up a slight wave of his arm as proof. “Besides, we’re just stopping by to pack an overnight bag right? No big deal.” In truth, his wrist actually still hurt quite a bit, but he was determined not to give Kirigiri any more problems to worry about…even if it did mean bending the truth a little.
Kirigiri narrowed her eyes. “Well, I hope you’ll tell me if you change your mind.”
Makoto was screwed.
The uncomfortable atmosphere that had settled between them continued as they packed up the necessities of Makoto’s life. It wasn’t that nothing was said, it was that none of it was what they wanted to say.
Kirigiri’s apartment hadn’t changed much since the last time he was there, but the way Makoto saw it had completely shifted. The breakfast nook by the rear window was no longer just a place to barricade themselves working overtime on an investigation, it was a place where they would share meals together. Makoto’s heart fluttered at the thought, before he recalled with fond exasperation that Kirigiri was about as good at self-care as she was at admitting she was wrong.
Makoto paused, watching from the doorway as Kirigiri placed his duffel bag at the end of his new bed. The citrusy hues of sunrise shone through the window, giving the room a strange feeling of freshness - of possibility.
“Do you mind if I make us breakfast?”
Kirigiri turned around, a light smile tugging at her lips before something caught her eye, taking any amusement with it. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You need to be giving your wrist a rest, not agitating it further.”
“No problem,” Makoto beamed, “I’ll just use my left hand!”
Making omelets, as it turned out, was much easier than opening a doorknob. Makoto smiled as he watched the results of his hard work simmer to a golden perfection. All that was left was to plate it. Almost without thinking, he readied a dish from the cabinet and picked up the pan with his right hand.
The pain sent Makoto to his knees. He looked on helplessly as the ceramic dish shattered against the stove rim, showering the tile around him with sharp slivers of white.
“Naegi!” Kirigiri yelled, crouching down beside him, turning off the stove eye with one hand and helping him to his feet with the other.
Makoto was forced to wait on the sofa while Kirigiri cleaned up yet another mess he made. Guilt and shame pooled in his stomach. Kirigiri was right. He really was unbelievable.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered with down-cast eyes as Kirigiri sat down next to him and sighed.
“I’ve been offered more apologies from you in the last ten minutes than most people receive in their entire lives. I don’t need to hear any more. What I want are answers.” Kyoko reached out her hand and gently tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “Why didn’t you ask me for help?”
Makoto continued to stare at his hands. “I wanted to prove that I could handle things by myself.”
Kyoko scoffed, “I never took you for such a hypocrite. Always talking about the importance of working together, and yet you never want to rely on the people that care about you.”
Makoto lifted his head, inadvertently leaning into the touch of her hand. “I thought I’d done something to upset you. Ever since we left Togami’s office you’ve been so tense.”
“I wasn’t angry with you; Rather, I was angry with myself”
“But at the door you called me unbelievable..”
Kyoko turned her gaze towards the far wall. She prayed her hair would provide ample cover for the mortifying blush she was sure had colored her cheeks.
“That's because it's hard for me to reconcile it sometimes…the effect you have on me. All my life I’ve strived to put the truth above everything- no matter the personal risk or heartache it brought with it. I believed no sacrifice was too great, not even you. But in those brief hours where I’d thought I’d lost you, I realized the future that lay ahead of me was too heavy a weight for me to bear alone. So I threw myself down that trash chute after you, thinking that if I could just have my friend by my side once more, that would be enough.”
She smiled wryly at a framed picture on the wall. Hina had taken it of them the day of the Halloween party. Naegi had insisted on dressing up as Sherlock and Dr.Watson - arguably the most famous best friends in literature. Kyoko sighed. “But lately I’m afraid I’ve become rather selfish. So much so that today I nearly lost control and destroyed what I already have.”
“Kiri…”
She turned to look at him. “Yes, Naegi?”
And then he did something completely unbelievable: he kissed her.
Kyoko could tell by how lightly his lips were pressed against hers that he had no idea how badly she wanted this. Up until this point she had found his denseness to be quite charming, but now she was afraid his obliviousness would cause him to draw back. She cupped her hands around the back of his jaw bone, twining her fingers into his hair as she deepened the kiss. She couldn’t remember ever resenting her gloves more. She wanted to feel more than just the soft bangs that brushed her nose and grazed her cheeks.
When it was finally time for their lips to part, Makoto pressed his forehead to hers, keeping the contact between them by whatever means necessary.
Kyoko let out a huff of amusement,“You know, I think we may have gotten things a little mixed up.”
He looked at her with such beautiful, curious eyes that she nearly dropped the subject for the chance to kiss him again.
“I believe we were meant to do this before we started living together.”