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Naegi turns around to face her, and she hears him gasp. Togami, Asahina and Hagakure notice her at the same time, the latter two with loud squeals that they quickly stifle.
They want to run up to her, of course, but the way she’s looking at Naegi stops them. Togami honest-to-god laughs under his breath.
“Kirigiri-san,” Naegi breathes, barely audible over the lapping of the waves.
“Naegi-kun. It’s nice to see you,” the detective says, as if she didn’t just come back from the dead. Any one of them would have said that she isn’t one for dramatics, but the barest hint of a smile on the edge of her lips gives her away.
A beat passes, in which the ocean thrashes at the shore; Naegi gapes at Kirigiri, absolutely stunned, while she tucks her billowing hair behind an ear, framing a white gauze patch over her left eye. Mottled veins trickle down to the collar of her shirt, blued and blackened by the poison they thought had killed her, but here she is—cool and undeterred and alive.
Once it becomes apparent that Naegi isn’t moving anytime soon, Asahina throws all caution to the wind and crosses the distance between her and Kirigiri in three strides, and grips her shoulders with tears in her eyes.
“Kyouko-chan, I’m going to hug you,” Asahina announces, barely able to stop herself from doing just that. “I know you don’t usually like to be touched—”
Asahina hears Kirigiri let out a huff and barely has time to react before she’s pulled none too gently into a one-armed hug, the poisoned left arm immobile at her side.
“I think we’re way past that point by now,” Kirigiri says somewhere over her shoulder, holding her tighter. Asahina buries her face in Kirigiri’s shoulder, letting the tears flow, and she feels rather than hears the way Kirigiri is acknowledging the others.
“You might want to check on the troops from Jabberwock Island, Togami-kun,” Kirigiri says quietly. “According to Tsumiki Mikan, Kamukura Izuru did quite a number on them to get here.”
“Tsumiki Mikan! Isn’t that one of the—” Hagakure starts, as Asahina steps away from Kirigiri.
“Yes,” Kirigiri interrupts, throwing Asahina an amused glance as she keeps one arm slung through Kirigiri’s good arm. “I saw firsthand her talents as the Ultimate Nurse. She brought me back to life, by no exaggeration.”
“I was under the impression that the poison in your bracelets was fatal,” Togami replies.
“Well, yes,” Kirigiri says matter-of factly, tilting her head to the side, glancing at Naegi, who still hasn’t torn his eyes off of her. “I was lucky enough to chance upon an antidote made by Kimura Seiko, which slowed down my metabolism long enough until I could be ‘revived’. ...It also had the side effect of making it look like I died.” She averts her eyes from all of them, and Asahina can feel her grip tighten. Out of the corner of her eye, she finally sees Naegi move slightly.
Kirigiri doesn’t notice, or at least, she pretends not to. With the eyepatch, she can pretend to have an excuse. “Tsumiki-san also gave me some sort of strength enhancing drug, which is the only reason I’m able to stand in front of you right now. It’ll wear off soon, so I hope we have plans…?”
“You should have told us about that part sooner!” Hagakure says, invading her personal space, as if to carry her. “Come on, Kirigiri-chi, up you go—”
“I should be fine for a few more hours, Hagakure-kun, thank you,” Kirigiri says curtly. Asahina laughs, pulls her away from Hagakure, and even Togami’s eyes soften at the sight.
In the silence that follows, Kirigiri turns slowly to the only person who hasn’t said a word. “Naegi-kun,” she repeats, quieter this time. Asahina lets go of her arm and stands back beside Hagakure, leaving Kirigiri to step closer to Naegi.
Naegi opens his mouth, then shuts it again. On the second try, he gets out some words. “I thought you’d died.”
“I know—”
“I thought you’d died because of me,” Naegi murmurs, his voice breaking, and Kirigiri wants to avert her eyes. She always told him he wore too much of his emotions on his sleeve, and she knows this is all of Naegi’s feelings, laid bare, and he hurts.
Kirigiri keeps her eyes on him, stopping herself from glancing at the others. She knew this conversation was coming, but she kind of hoped it wouldn’t be in front of all of the others. She can practically feel them recoiling behind her. But she owes Naegi an explanation, and that’s all that matters right now. All that can matter.
“I didn’t tell you because I know you would’ve done something reckless to save me,” she says, taking another tentative step forward. “I know I would’ve, if the situation was reversed. But the Future Foundation needed you… much more than it needed me.”
His tears flow down his cheeks, looking up at her indignantly, then looking away. “That’s not…” –true, I needed you, did you ever think of that?
But she’s right, she’s always right, all humility and personal feelings aside, she made the right choice. Even in the face of her own death, she didn’t let go of herself, she knew what needed to be done.
Kirigiri sighs, steps closer. “Are you mad at me…?”
Naegi lets out a breath that might have been a sigh or a laugh or a sob, Kirigiri can’t tell. “No,” he admits quietly. “I’m—I’m so glad you’re alive.”
“Well, me too,” she teases gently, testing waters. “You kept fighting for hope, just like I asked… thank you.”
He lets out a sound that is now definitely laughter, and as he looks up he smiles through his tear-streaked face. Kirigiri raises her good hand, gloved fingers barely touching his cheek as she swipes away the tears under his eyes. The leather is cold on his skin, but Naegi leans into it, his warm smile like early sunlight.
The loud beating of a chopper’s propeller cuts through whatever moment there might have been, and immediately Kirigiri reverts into the leader of the 14th branch of Future Foundation, turning back to the rest of them.
Everyone is silent on the ride away. If anyone notices that she moves with Naegi like he’s magnetic, no one says a word.
--
“Is your arm going to stay like that…?” Hagakure asks over the beating of the propellers, gesturing vaguely at her. Naegi has fallen asleep on her left, head lolling backwards in the seat, and if their hands are touching, it’s not her fault—she can’t move her left arm.
“The poison will recede,” Kirigiri answers. “I might need to have it checked again. As talented as Tsumiki may be, she did only have her medkit—”
“Already have you scheduled at a hospital,” Togami interrupts from the front of the chopper, not bothering to lean around the chair to look at them.
“Thank you, Togami-kun,” Kirigiri says, as Asahina smiles widely. Something inside her swells, and not for the first time, she feels thankful to be alive.
--
Naegi, Togami, and Hagakure leave to pick up Naegi Komaru and Fukawa Touko after Kirigiri checks in. They return to the hospital a few days later, when the discoloration is gone from her skin and her left eye can distinguish between light and dark. Kirigiri exchanges information with Komaru and how she and Fukawa planned to stay a little bit longer in Towa City to await the Future Foundation’s restoration efforts (Fukawa had gone off to comb the hospital for Togami) while Naegi and Asahina play 3D chess on a table at the foot of her bed. It all goes very well until Kirigiri says “Naegi-kun,” and both siblings look, which makes Asahina laugh.
“Ah,” Kirigiri says, “I meant Makoto.”
After that, she calls him solely by first name. He returns the favor.
--
Time passes, and the Future Foundation assembles the barest skeleton of an Executive Board, with Togami at the head. One of the first things he decrees is for the 14th branch to take a breather—and he also moves them into his estate.
Kirigiri is indignant about the two week break, not that she shows it, but the others notice that she’s huffier after they receive the news. She knows she’s not at peak performing condition, anyway, not with the arm. But any exasperation at Togami fades when he explains, as if to a couple of toddlers, that he’s going to be taking them in.
“So you’re adopting us, is what you’re saying,” Hagakure jokes, when Togami brings up their new living conditions.
“Call it whatever you will,” Togami scoffs. “But there’s no way I’m letting you stay anywhere else.”
Naegi is struggling not to go aww after it all.
--
They’ve been living out of each other’s pockets for the longest time now, since Hope’s Peak, then the Future Foundation, where they’d lived in one floor together, eerily familiar as when they had in Hope’s Peak. But they find that living in the Togami estate is different, in a few significant ways.
They take turns cooking breakfast for each other, depending on who wakes up first. Togami brews the strongest coffee and Hagakure, surprisingly, makes the best omelets. Asahina only ever serves cereal until Naegi takes pity on her and shows her how to cook a few things, which Togami takes as a challenge to learn how to cook better. The sight of Togami throwing off an apron in the morning to change into his suit is a constant source of amusement, which he takes in stride.
It’s not uncommon for any two or three of them to end up asleep in the same room, simply too lazy to get back up and head to their own. One time all of them, except Togami, end up asleep in Hagakure’s room after a fun fortune telling session gone wrong, although Asahina points out that Togami is first up in the kitchen the next morning with no signs of having slept.
Certain things become commonplace to them, which before might have freaked out any of them to some degree. Hagakure walks around shirtless. Togami allows himself to be seen in sleepwear, which for him means fleece pajamas and loose shirts. Naegi gathers everyone for movie nights, always with a comment about how Ultimates never seemed to know about “important movies”.
Kirigiri forgets to put on her gloves some days, but it doesn’t really matter.
--
Communications and updates reach them from what’s remaining of Future Foundation, and Togami goes through most of it. One of the first news Togami brings home is that Naegi has been cleared of treason, due to his involvement in stopping the Final Killing Game. (“Oh, sweet. Do I get to work now?” “No.”) He gives out work in small intervals, as if easing them back into it.
“Anything interesting this morning, Byakuya-kun?” Asahina asks one day, as Togami slides into the seat beside her.
“Quite a bit,” Togami says, handing a folder to Naegi, who accepts it over his pancakes. “It’s about Hope’s Peak. You might want to look at that first note.”
Curiously, Naegi opens the folder, and a post-it note with unfamiliar handwriting greets him.
Heard they’re reinstating Hope’s Peak.
I hope you’ll consider being headmaster—
there’s no one more appropriate.
Munakata
His heart jumps at the signature. He takes out the note and hands the rest of the folder over to Kirigiri, who takes it without looking. “Munakata’s back?”
“No,” Togami says, putting down his coffee. “If he was, the recommendation would have been in the official file. I’m more inclined to believe he asked somebody to slip in that note, off the record. His connections within the Future Foundation are still numerous.”
“I agree,” Kirigiri says before Naegi could say anything, eyes scanning quickly over the folder. “He wouldn’t come back so soon. Not after losing Yukizome Chisa.”
No, he wouldn’t, Naegi thinks, biting his lip, remembering their conversation while he was getting beat against a wall.
“Another takeaway,” Togami continues, “is that the Future Foundation has decided to focus its efforts on reinstating Hope’s Peak.” His shoulders relax infinitesimally; he’s been fighting for this since he became the leader of the Future Foundation. As someone who knew Junko Enoshima as well as the Remnants personally, Togami should have been considered a reliable source for saying that Ultimate Despair was over. In a particularly personal conversation, Naegi had talked about focusing on rebuilding hope instead of destroying despair, and it had affected Togami more than he’d admit.
Togami pulls out another file, thinner this time, with the word CONFIDENTIAL prominent on its cover. “However, I’m calling on the former 14th branch, the last people in charge of the Remnants, to look into and keep an eye on the matter.”
“That sounds specifically tailored as a message to the Ultimate Detective,” Hagakure laughs.
“Yes, sir,” Kirigiri deadpans, giving Naegi the Hope’s Peak file and trading it for the confidential file that Togami passes her. “Finally, some work.”
“I’m also promoting you to head of the 5th division: intelligence, inquiry, and… well, hopefully there won’t be a need for counter-espionage, but that’s yours too. The inquiry into Class 77 should be right in your area. Only you and I will have access to their files, so there’s no need to be worried about getting caught that they presumably took over Jabberwock and are… actually good now.”
“We’ll have to go there at some point,” Kirigiri says, breakfast completely left behind, drinking in the file in front of her. Naegi sighs. “That island is still the Foundation’s property, after all.”
“Are we really?” Naegi asks, looking hopefully at Togami, who nods. “Ah, that’s a relief! I barely had time to talk to Hinata-kun after they calmed down Mitarai. I can’t wait to see how they’re holding up!”
“I have a good feeling that they’re alright,” the Ultimate Clairvoyant says, stroking his chin.
--
One of the things that Kirigiri is thankful for is how they, as a group, seem to know instinctively what things should not be talked about.
There are the obvious, serious things, such as when one of them wakes the others with a scream at precisely 7am, and the unspoken agreement that whoever’s next door will zombie walk over to their bed and throw themselves down in lieu of physical comfort. The source of that horror is over, and they’re all alright.
But there are subtle, embarrassing things, like when Togami misplaces his glasses and bumps into tables until one of them can find the damn glasses, or Asahina makes this little tiny noise when something surprises her. Or when Naegi and Kirigiri fall asleep shoulder to shoulder and holding hands four movie nights in a row, two of which Kirigiri wasn’t wearing gloves.
We’re allowed this much now, Kirigiri thinks sleepily. Earlier in the night, she had wandered into Naegi’s room, with ideas and schematics for the new Hope’s Peak. It was still such a raw concept, and Naegi was still dancing around the idea of accepting Headmastership, but it meant a lot to all of them, and they would frequently discuss it to Naegi.
It’s how she ends up half-asleep on his side of the bed, not that she has a side on his bed, it’s just—she’s on the side he usually sleeps in.
Yes.
We’re allowed this much, she repeats to herself, as Naegi turns over in his sleep next to her.
--
It doesn’t quite sink into him that he’s been regularly sleeping next to Kirigiri—until he wakes up first.
He’s woken up next to the others before, even Togami, but never her. She’s always gone by the time he wakes; sometimes he has half-asleep memories of her gently getting up off the bed so as to not wake him, slipping back to her own room. He’s not bothered by it—it’s not unusual for any of them to be nonchalantly sleeping in each other’s rooms and just as nonchalantly leaving in the morning. Not that the fact that he thought her dead for a few hours affects it. Really.
So he’s frozen in the bed, afraid to move, unsure how easily she wakes. He turns his head slowly, slowly, just wanting to look at her, to see the great detective in the morning light, finally, safe and completely at peace—
She yawns; his head snaps back forward and instinctively he knows he’s been caught.
--
Kirigiri and Naegi land in Jabberwock Military Base in the early afternoon, welcomed by Komaeda, waving enthusiastically, Hinata standing next to him with a bemused expression, and Mitarai, behind them, looking happier than Naegi had ever seen him.
After the pleasantries, Hinata directs them to one of the pick-up trucks in the military base, in which Souda Kazuichi is waiting in the driver’s seat.
“Yo,” he greets them, and when he sees their hesitation, he says, “Please, come on in. I haven’t killed anyone yet, I swear! Right, Hajime-kun?”
Hinata laughs, and looks at Naegi. "The choice was between him, Nidai, and Fuyuhiko, so trust me when I say this is the least of three evils." He also somehow makes Komaeda sit in the passenger seat, winking at Naegi as he sits beside him in the backseat.
--
On the way to the central administration building, they pass by a few of the others, who give them weird looks but wave politely when they see Hinata and Mitarai with them. Naegi looks at them curiously, then back at Hinata. “They don’t know us, do they?”
“No,” Hinata says. “Well, Kazuichi and I do. It’s a… well, I’ll explain soon. In here.”
He leads them into a meeting room, in which they all sit around the table, with Hinata and Mitarai sitting across Kirigiri and Naegi. Hinata looks around at them, and sighs. “Before anything else, I have to ask… what happened? Ah, after we left.”
“The Future Foundation has rebuilt, and has decided to refocus its efforts on reinstating Hope’s Peak,” Kirigiri starts. “Togami Byakuya is the current leader, and I’ve taken over for the intelligence division. Which also means—”
“You’re in charge of looking out for us,” Hinata finishes, nodding.
“Yes, hence the trip. But it’s not just to keep you guys in line,” Kirigiri assures him.
“We’ll also provide for the things you need,” Naegi continues. “The island is well-stocked, but the supplies won’t last forever.”
“And for that,” Kirigiri says, pulling out a sleek hard drive and sliding it towards Hinata, “we brought you this.”
Hinata slides his finger over the embossed logo of the Future Foundation. “Alter Ego,” he mutters.
“He’ll process your requests and encrypt them automatically, and the only one with access to your records will be me and Togami. He’s still being careful about revealing to too many people that the Hope Cultivation Program was actually a success, considering the video you left behind, but once that’s all said and done…”
Hinata shakes his head. “We appreciate it, but I think we’ll stay on the island.” He looks to Mitarai, who had been quiet until this point, but says, “We know what we did. We’re here to atone… and atone we will.”
Naegi puts his hand on Mitarai’s arm, who turns to him and smiles sadly.
“It’s become a major theme on the island recently, actually,” Hinata says, dropping his eyes, voice still heavy. “Atonement, I mean. You asked about our memories earlier, Naegi-kun, and it hasn’t been long. We remember our time from when we were Despair, which is… a horror in itself. All I’ve managed to restore from the game are the most powerful memories.
“The five of us left alive at the very end of the game—me, Kazuichi, Sonia, Akane, Fuyuhiko—we remember most of the last trial, since it was… emotionally charged. And we met you after you helped us out from the pods,” Hinata says to Naegi. “But we all know you, of course, from the time we were Despair. Everyone knows Naegi Makoto.”
Naegi blushes; he’ll never get used to the attention. It’s probably not the right time to turn the remark around on Kamukura Izuru himself, either, with his entire being so heavy with regret.
He pauses, swallows. “For most of the others, they remember their own deaths, if they had the time to remember it. Gundam and Nidai remember their battle. Tsumiki remembers her execution. … But there’s also some, who remember other people’s deaths too—for one, Fuyuhiko remembers Peko’s execution. It’s caused a little bit of tension, especially between those who supposedly killed each other. But we know we’d never do that to each other anymore, that we were in a life-or-death situation, and there’s just been… talking. And trying to understand. But more than anything… we’re glad we’re alive.
“We could really use some sort of Ultimate Counselor right now,” Hinata laughs to himself, presumably at some inside joke. “But we have all the time in the world, now, on the island.” His eyes finally soften, his face relaxing. "With Alter Ego here…” He takes out a pin from his pocket, a small pixel ship, and lays it on top of the hard drive.
--
They spend the rest of the daylight hours being toured around the islands by Hinata and Souda, back in the pickup truck. They wave to more members of Class 77 that they pass, some of them catcalling Souda as he drives very carefully, hyper-aware of the two high-ranking Future Foundation members sitting in the backseat. By the third island, Naegi takes pity on him and suggests that they go around on foot.
Once they’ve toured all the islands except the first, Hinata says sheepishly, “We… actually prepared a little dinner. If you’re not in a hurry—everyone wants to say thanks.”
“We’d be glad to go,” Kirigiri replies, right as Naegi was opening his mouth to say that actually, Togami was expecting a report by tomorrow morning. Hinata beams, and starts walking towards the first island.
“So honest,” Kirigiri says to him quietly, smiling, following after Hinata.
--
A chorus of cheers greets them when they step into the hotel restaurant. Hanamura has made a banquet, which is amazing, and Naegi notes that Class 77 is noticeably more loud and boisterous than his own classmates were. Mioda only lets go of the ukulele she’s holding to trade it for the harmonica that Saionji has, Owari is eating everything within arm’s reach, and Gundam seems to have brought in a bear. Naegi looks around at them, waiting for anyone to comment on it, but they all pass right by the snoozing bear without comment, Hanamura even casually feeding it scraps one time.
Naegi and Kirigiri make the rounds, talking to everyone in turn. Once Komaeda unavoidably waylays Naegi, Kirigiri just smirks at the loud ‘help me’ messages he’s trying to send telepathically and steps away.
“Hinata has told us much about you,” a voice says quietly, leaning forward to catch her attention. Pekoyama looks at her respectfully. “You were instrumental to restoring us to our current condition. Thank you… for this second chance.”
She’s heard the gratitude in several various ways, from Koizumi’s down-to-earth one to Nidai’s ear-popping one. But she feels this one from Pekoyama deep in her gut, resonating with her own feelings at having what feels like a second life. She smiles at her. “You’re welcome. And as for your second chance… make it count. They don’t always come around.” She looks pointedly over Pekoyama’s shoulder, at Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko engaged in conversation with Hanamura Teruteru. Pekoyama doesn’t even turn around but she blushes, and Kirigiri figures that knowing where Kuzuryuu is at any given point is probably second nature to her.
“There is a lot I still must do,” she replies solemnly. “I was raised to be a servant, but with the current condition, on these islands I must learn to be… human.” She shivers slightly at the word, as if the notion scared her, and Kirigiri is regretting leaving Naegi alone; she was never good at the sort of comfort this situation required, for people who weren’t, well, Naegi. But Pekoyama just thanks her again, bows slightly, and leaves.
Kirigiri sighs, then goes off to rescue Naegi from Komaeda.
--
Hinata and Souda drive them back to the military base at an hour Naegi doesn’t even want to know.
It’s probably the ridiculous amount of domesticity he’s had over the past few months, but he pulls Hinata, Ultimate Hope and a very recent Remnant of Despair, in for a hug. Honestly, what happened to his sense of danger. He hears two chuckles behind him: one is from Hinata, and the other is from Kirigiri.
“We won’t see you for quite a long time,” Naegi says a little loudly, to cover for the awkward moment, but Hinata seems to take it in stride. “Remember, all we’ll have is Alter Ego. If you need us, we’ll try our best to help.”
“We’ll be fine,” Hinata says, smiling knowingly, and Naegi believes him.
--
They reach home at 10 am the next day, bone tired. The house is quiet, with all the other three at work, and Naegi collapses fully clothed into his bed, only now appreciating the distance between his room and the front door.
“Togami will have to take a late report,” Kirigiri murmurs, taking off her coat.
“Mhh,” Naegi says into the pillow.
She laughs softly, unaffected by sleep deprivation, and he feels a weight settle into the other side of the bed. “Get some sleep, Makoto.”
She settles with her back to the headboard and her tablet in her lap, no doubt starting her part of the report. Naegi closes his eyes and turns to a more comfortable sleeping position on his back.
He listens to the soft taps of Kirigiri’s fingers against her screen, lulling himself to sleep, thinking back through the day…
“They’re okay,” he murmurs, eyes still closed.
He knows she’ll understand, knows the relief from the payoff of the incredible risk he took with the New World Program. He feels her hand slide over the back of his own, running her thumb across his knuckles before turning it over and lacing their fingers together.
His heart races, even though they’ve held hands multiple times before. Something about this moment is different—the sleepy words, the unnatural quiet of the house, the way she followed him into his room without question, the way he knows she’s still casually typing away on her tablet with her other hand.
It’s so natural, so familial, and something inside him melts.
It lasts for all of ten seconds until Kirigiri’s tablet vibrates loudly, and she tugs her hand away. “It’s Alter Ego.”
A little bit of wakefulness seeps into Naegi, propping himself up on one elbow. “What?”
Kirigiri answers the call with a swipe of her finger. “Hello? Hinata-kun, is that you?”
“Hey! It works!” Souda’s voice comes through the tablet. “Hi, Kirigiri-san.”
“Is there a problem?”
“No, just wanted to check that it works! Just, you know, in case of emergencies.” Souda hesitates, and Naegi has the impression that this was more than a test call, which is confirmed by the next sentences, all of which Souda says very quickly. “Well, while I have you here, Gundam kinda found a pearl this morning and he gave it to Sonia and whatdoyouthinkitmeans—?”
Kirigiri stares blankly at the screen, and Naegi just laughs.
--
“Have you confessed yet?”
Naegi’s eyebrows fly upward as he raises his eyes to look at Asahina. “What?”
“You heard me,” she says, grinning unrepentantly, as she picks up another sheaf of papers from the stack on his desk. Naegi looks at her with those puppy dog eyes that he insists aren’t puppy dog eyes, it’s just how he always looks. “Oh, come on.”
He relents, pouts. “…No.” She stares at him pointedly until he glances at her again and throws his hands up. “It’s just—there’s… more important things to be thinking about! We still need to rebuild pretty much half the world, and we’re both up to our necks learning how to run a school, and it’s not like I’m going anywhere—”
“—and you already sleep in the same bed 100% of the time, completely adore one another, have been pretty much living together, and can offer flawless emotional support to each other?”
The worst part is that denial isn’t an option, not to someone who lives with them. “I wouldn’t say adore,” he retorts lamely, cheeks heating up, as Togami strides into the room.
She seems to drop the subject, and Naegi starts to focus on the task at hand, which is painstakingly drafting the mission and vision for the new Hope’s Peak; after all, the last one had been so easily misguided. Then, not even ten minutes later, Asahina covers Togami’s view of her face with a folder and whispers to him, “Have you even kissed? Just, you know, out of curiosity—”
Naegi’s forehead hits the desk, saying something that sounds a lot like holy shit.
Asahina laughs and apologizes; Togami doesn’t even look up.
--
It doesn’t take much deliberation to decide that the New Hope’s Peak is going to be open to all students, regardless of talent or intellect—Naegi as well as Hinata had been the shining examples that great things such as the Ultimate Hope could come from anywhere. (“I think Togami just complimented you,” Kirigiri tells him, smiling, as Naegi blushes.)
The whole deal with setting apart the Ultimates in a special school had been pretty elitist, anyway, Naegi had thought privately. Nanami Chiaki would have appreciated the thought. He mentally files it away for something to bring up to Hinata later.
--
On the day that New Hope’s Peak finally opens, Naegi has looked at and signed enough administrative files to last him a long time. He’s exhausted, and the school (his school!) hasn’t even opened yet, but walking through the hallways, touching the walls, he can’t help but grin widely, excitement blooming in his chest.
He opens the door into a random classroom, reveling in the sunlight that streams through the windows, and looks at everything. The blackboard, the tables, the desks… he eyes the desks for a while, before making his way to a specific one.
Should be around here, he thinks, and sits down. He remembers waking up alone in a room with an unnatural sense of confinement, with the windows bolted closed and a surveillance camera watching his every move. He remembers his first Killing Game, and the lives that were lost. At the first trial, he promised Kirigiri that he would carry their deaths with him always… and at the dawn of a new era, he still is.
Here, now, his students will be free. They will have seen despair with their own eyes, but he will show them hope. He’ll show everyone that hope can come from anywhere—that it’s for everyone… because that is what New Hope’s Peak is for. He swears it on his title as Headmaster.
The door swings open, and Kirigiri looks around from behind it, smiling when she meets his eyes. “Everyone’s waiting for you… Headmaster.” She teases him with the title, knowing his nervousness.
He stands up and straightens out his clothes. “Right. I’m coming,” he says, trying his best to sound formal and Headmaster-y, like he’s trying to convince both of them that’s he’s ready for this.
He passes her at the doorway, and Naegi is hit with a realization.
“...Yes?” Kirigiri asks as he pauses in front of her, and it’s only because he knows her so well that he catches the blush on her cheeks.
He smiles mischievously—then reaches up to gently tap the crown of her head. “I’m as tall as you now.”
As he heads off to open his school, he resolutely does not think about how narrow that doorway was, and how his height would’ve made it easier to kiss her.
--
.
.
.
“You know he has a ring, right,” Togami says quietly one day, months later, as they’re sitting in the office adjacent to the Headmaster’s, waiting for the Headmaster himself.
It’s not a question. “Yes, Byakuya-kun.” Kirigiri looks at him amusedly over the top of her tablet, waiting for the rest. She’s aware of how obvious she and Naegi are being, despite never talking about it or actually "officially" being together, in whatever sense society dictates. She just didn’t expect Togami to bring it up.
He lets the silence descend for a bit, then meets her eyes. “Does he know you know?”
She considers the question. “I’m sure he thinks he’s doing a very good job hiding it.”
He smiles, a genuine expression that’s become steadily more commonplace over the past months. “He’s not going to ask anytime soon.”
She tries to hide a smile of her own. “No.”