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For Kyouko Kirigiri, noticing Asahina (gorgeous, beautiful, headstrong Asahina) was like a slap in the face.
A slap to Togami’s face, actually, but she digresses. He had it coming, in any case.
Besides, it was not as if Kirigiri had not noticed her before – she had, just a fleeting thought of ‘oh, what a nice girl’ and ‘she’s lovely, but we’re never going to be friends’ – but every little thing up until now had suddenly hit her full force the moment Asahina risked herself and their trust in a fit of frenzied, frantic passion; just like, as she mentioned, a slap in the face.
Aoi Asahina is absolutely stunning, she realizes.
Aoi Asahina is also, unfortunately, undeniably (so she used Naegi to gather intel, whatever, shoot her, there’s some things even the greatest detective cannot do) … straight. Heterosexual.
Yeah. That.
Which isn’t a bad thing necessarily, but good god, it makes life a lot harder.
And not going to lie, Kirigiri has had her doubts after watching Asahina and Oogami’s interactions – but she isn’t going to distrust Naegi either, because hearing that Asahina pulled the poor guy in to play her ‘fake boyfriend’ for a while; the evidence seemed to be a little too obvious to be ignored.
“Sorry,” he tells her, scratching his cheek. He honestly looks as if he is truly sorry, which the detective deems a slight bit idiotic – how could it be his fault, after all? Still, Naegi says earnestly, “I’m still rooting for you, if that’s any help at all…?”
“Whatever.” She replies quickly, crossing her arms. “Life happens.”
And for the time being, that was the end of that.
For Aoi Asahina, Kyouko Kirigiri is a puzzle – and one she thought she could probably never solve.
Her admiration for the girl is enormous, of course, but their differences told her that it would always remain admiration and nothing else; Kirigiri was cool, calm, collected, whereas Asahina was brash, bossy and boundlessly energetic; a stark contrast, if anyone ever saw one.
Some people say opposites attract, but the swimmer does not believe this is the case. Not this time, anyway.
She simply didn’t ever think she was the type of person that Kirigiri would want to hang out with; it had naught to do with self-esteem or appearance, only that they were so obviously different in their own individual ways. Even down to their hobbies and fashion choices – things Asahina cares little about when it comes to judging people, but notices because she has eyes to see – are as different as night and day.
She spoke about it with Sakura, once, and her beauty of a best friend had told her that she, Aoi Asahina, had the ability to make friends with and charm everyone – Kirigiri being no exception.
But as much as Asahina loves Sakura, she still doesn’t quite believe it.
Then they get out and whatever balance they had is thrown into chaos.
The good news is that they’re finally free from the hell that is Hope’s Peak Academy. Free from the sickening games of mutual killing. It was a long fight, but it was over at last.
The bad news is that only the six of them escape – Naegi, Togami, Hagakure, Fukawa, Asahina, and Kirigiri – and that the experience had not entirely bound them together per say; it was all a product of fear. They surely didn’t win, what with the brutalities they had seen first-hand and the loss of such dear friends, but perhaps in their freedom they could say that they didn’t exactly lose, either.
However, no matter what, they could only go forward, now. Their old classmates would not have wanted it any other way.
Asahina makes this fact known over and over again, amidst Hagakure’s babbling and Naegi’s bouts of on-off depression – while Togami’s rolling his eyes and Fukawa’s cynicism hits an all-time low.
Asahina drives them when Naegi can’t, and he does the same for her.
The two shining lights.
They’re close, Kirigiri thinks. But she is not jealous. Not of that.
She’s over Asahina, she thinks.
The swimmer is wonderfully courageous and strong and brave, so it was only natural to lend to admiration. Just pure, unadulterated admiration.
But she knows she’s only lying to herself; and it all comes clear at the Future Foundation Headquarters.
The first thing Kirigiri notices is that they’re stuck in a room together. The Future Foundation, not fully able to accept Touko Fukawa for what she was, had persuaded Togami to, in turn, persuade the literary girl to go to Towa City – where they (using the term ‘they’ very loosely) would look for the ‘person of interest’ that a message from Towa spoke of.
Well, that was the story Kirigiri had conjured up for convenience, anyway. In actual fact, Togami had been sent on that mission as a squad leader, and Fukawa had just appeared along the way. Some things just didn’t change. But that left Kirigiri, Asahina, Naegi and Hagakure at the base.
Hence, the Future Foundation handled the room arrangements as fairly as they could; and during their recovery from the horrors they had faced in the mutual killing, Kirigiri roomed with Asahina, and Naegi with Hagakure. Togami had understandably remained alone, until he headed off on his mission to Towa, on the promise that he would come back once he had done what he esteemed necessary.
But they do room together, and that is an unchangeable fact.
It’s not as if Kirigiri uses this knowledge to her advantage, either. She’s not a predator, and Asahina is not prey.
Yet something changes, in the time they spend together.
Maybe it’s because they’ve been through similar things. Maybe it’s because they’re clinging to something that neither of them have, anymore.
Kirigiri would like to think that she and Asahina both had Naegi and Hagakure respectively, to provide that outlet for communication and stone for holding them onto the ground.
But suddenly Naegi has these enormous plans for such a small guy, and Hagakure is so caught up in the using his much needed technical skills that so little people still have, that the truth is – Kirigiri has to hold onto Asahina, and the swimmer has to do the same.
“I miss them.” Asahina admits to her, when they’re all alone in their room after a long day of work, and a quick glance to the clock tells Kirigiri it’s 10:55pm. It’s not the first time those words have left her mouth, but it’s the first time she sounds so vulnerable saying them.
A gloved hand meets Asahina’s bare shoulder, and the detective hears herself saying, “Me, too.”
“I’m so glad you’re here with me.” The brunette whispers, hugging a pillow to her chest and leaning into the touch.
“… me, too.” Kirigiri answers, because she has nothing else to say.
They have each other. That’s more than can be said for a lot of the world. And that’s terribly disheartening.
For Asahina, days at the Future Foundation HQ are made brighter by a certain lavender-haired detective. Some might argue – Kirigiri was never the life of the party, though she did have her moments of well-timed snark – but Asahina fully believes that she wouldn’t be able to get out of bed in the morning without Kirigiri kicking her out of bed, and making a few moody comments about the atmosphere of the whole place.
One time Kirigiri forwent coffee, and that was certainly an experience. It took Naegi and Asahina’s combined effort just to get the detective not to strangle Togami on the spot, further impressive by her choice of strangle item being a slice of burnt toast someone had tossed into the oven and forgotten about. To this day, nobody has owned up to being the one to utterly destroy that poor slice of bread, but Asahina’s bets are on Togami no matter what.
Kirigiri is not a morning person, she discovers, and much of what the detective is thinking before her daily coffee just leaves her mouth without warning. On many occasions, Asahina finds herself in tears laughing, even if the words weren’t very funny in the first place. She’s glad, in a way, that she hasn’t lost the ability to laugh even after all that they’ve been through.
But more than being morning entertainment, Kirigiri has become her anchor in the storm.
Asahina swaps cheeky words with Hagakure when he’s not too busy trying to scam nameless Future Foundation members out of their money (what he would use it for, she doesn’t know and doesn’t think she wants to know), and he’s more than happy to agree. Kirigiri is like an anchor to all of them.
Naegi is always stepping too far ahead, and Hagakure lagging a step too far behind. Asahina trips often, and Togami gets lost far too easily. Fukawa is always nearby, but lately, she’s grown a little distant. Kirigiri is their anchor. Always bringing them back to earth.
“Thank you,” Asahina says one day, out of the blue.
She watches Kirigiri stop, and then raise an eyebrow. “What for?”
“Everything.” The brunette grins, because she means it. She’s thankful for everything the detective has ever done – mutual killing school life, Future Foundation or otherwise.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Kirigiri responds with a roll of her eyes. But Asahina sees the light dusting of pink on her cheeks, and knows that the gratitude has been accepted accordingly.
The biggest shock of it all comes sooner rather than later – though upon hearing Togami got kidnapped by Towa’s tyrannical kids, Kirigiri is slightly ashamed to say that she laughed (at least until Naegi told her he was being serious) – but one day, Touko Fukawa returns to the Future Foundation with a girlfriend.
Komaru Naegi, who is just this bundle of twice as much peppiness as her brother, is the most welcome addition to their group as Kirigiri could possibly imagine.
She fits right in with them all; arguing with Naegi like siblings tend to (it seems they are both at their wits’ end regarding a man named Nagito Komaeda), hassling Hagakure like everyone else tends to (though she is awfully gullible when it comes to his fortune-telling), nags incessantly at Togami until he begrudgingly does what she asks (usually she just wants snacks and everyone is shocked when he complies), gushes with Asahina over donuts and funny stories about some guy named Yuuta (if she remembers correctly, he was Asahina’s younger brother) – heck, she even accompanies Kirigiri on missions sometimes, and she is surprisingly good at puzzle-solving. Even if she does get a tad too competitive at the most inopportune times.
However, it’s the little things about Komaru that has Kirigiri wondering: the way the young girl lights up Fukawa’s seemingly perpetual cynicism and gloom. The way she asks permission for physical contact, and respects her partner’s boundaries. The over-excited air that exudes from her whenever Touko speaks with her; their silly banters, and casual touches.
It’s the first time at the headquarters when Togami isn’t a degree of irritated all the time either, and Kirigiri concludes that that might be one of the reasons why he seems to have a soft spot for Komaru, too.
But of course, that doesn’t even begin to compare to Fukawa’s surprisingly innocent affection for her newfound girlfriend; right down to getting jealous when Komaru spends a second too long telling Kirigiri how cool she is, and even when Komaru hangs out too long with Makoto – the couple seem to share a very one-sided brother complex joke that Komaru hates, but Fukawa is all too happy to bring out when she’s feeling sidelined.
Once, Kirigiri caught the two whispering away in the kitchen. A change in angle saw that Komaru was in tears, and moments away from hugging her girlfriend within inches of her life; sheer sadness and worry dripping off the two in waves.
So it was not only in times of joy, and times of shy glances that love could blossom. Through terror and triumph, Komaru found Touko and vice versa.
It makes her wonder.
She catches Asahina crying, when it all goes downhill.
“I never told him,” she starts before Kirigiri is fully in the room. “I never told Yuuta how proud I was of him.”
Never having met Yuuta – or not remembering if she had – Kirigiri couldn’t do much but move to sit beside the brunette and rub circles on her back. Consolation. Comfort. But not enough to bring her brother back from the dead. Nothing would ever be able to do that.
“I’m sure he knows.” The detective finds herself saying. “I’m sure wherever he is, he knows. And he’s proud of you too, for making it this far.”
“I just… I haven’t seen him in so long, and I…” The tears roll down Asahina’s face in a steady stream, each droplet staining her lap feeling like a dagger through the other woman’s chest. She hates to see people cry, but for Asahina – usually so strong and resolute – to be reduced to a sobbing mess, Kirigiri learns that she hates this even more.
“Get a hold of yourself, Aoi,” she murmurs, cradling the swimmer close. “It’s alright to cry. But you can’t grieve forever. Yuuta’s watching over you, always. And we’re all here for you. You know that, right?”
“I know… I’m sorry, I don’t – I don’t want to be like this, I just wish… none of this had ever happened… I wish we could start over again and… I could, I could do things right.”
“We all do.”
“Sorry,” Asahina sniffles. “I’m such a weakling. Everyone’s working so hard and I’m just here crying my eyes out…”
“You’re not weak for showing emotion.” Kirigiri states firmly, remembering a conversation she had with Togami that used the same line. Only this was different. This was Asahina, and where Togami threw his emotions, Asahina clung to hers like a lifeline. “You will never be weak for showing emotion.” She says it softer. “Don’t apologize for your tears.”
“Kyouko,” the brunette nestles her head in the other’s shoulder, sobs finally easing up. “Thank you for always being here with me when I need you.”
“It’s my pleasure.” She replies, because she knows a standard ‘you’re welcome’ wouldn’t cut it. She isn’t Oogami, and she can’t be as comforting and sweet, but she can do her best and that’s what matters.
That’s why she can’t let her personal feelings get in the way.
She can’t destroy what they have – this peace, this sincerity.
She presses her lips to Asahina’s forehead, knowing it will be read completely platonically, and doubts herself a little when she says, “It’s all going to be alright.”
Asahina doesn’t think a lot about boyfriends and dating anymore. Times have gone by much too quickly, and they don’t have a very high priority when it comes to saving the world. She thinks that maybe, if she were to date somebody, it could only be someone from their little ragtag group of survivors anyway – but the thought rings a little strange.
She gets along well enough with Makoto; but he’s always preoccupied, even without meaning to be, and she’s sure that romance is the last thing on his mind as he spearheads the mission to revive hope all over the earth. It’s okay. She understands. It’s a big task, and he’s the best person to do it. There’s no way he’d be able to date her alongside everything else.
Byakuya’s not even an option at this point, even if she does find him a little attractive (okay, a lot, but who doesn’t?), and it’s nice to be able to hold decent conversation with him now that he won’t immediately send her away with default harshness and venom in his voice. They’re friends, as much as friends can be, and she still can’t see herself making out with that four-eyed lemon.
Hagakure, she already tried to date. They had fun, and it was easy, but they broke it off on mutual terms; agreeing that even as a couple they acted more like best friends, and there was no use in trying to pursue a relationship where every couple-y thing they tried always ended up in laughter and a bucket of ‘oh my god why did we ever think this was a good idea’. They’re still best friends even now, so it’s not like it was entirely bad.
Now, then, there’s the field she had never considered before.
Other girls.
It only really dawns on Asahina that yes, girls can date girls, when she sees Komaru together with Touko. She’s not weirded out, no, she can see that they are very happy (and super adorable) together, but for herself, it’s something that she’s not thought about much. It begins to linger in her mind after a particular comment from Touko – being that ‘you don’t decide who you love and who you fall in love with. If life was that easy, I wouldn’t be writing so many goddamn books, after all.’
So she tests it out with the only person she knows that she can.
She looks over at the detective – now her roommate – and wonders what it would be like to date her. Would Kyouko be affectionate in public or prefer to keep it a secret? Would Kyouko hold her hand when they walked, and stay awake talking to her about nothing into the early hours of the morning? Would Kyouko kiss her without warning, and wrap her slim arms around her waist?
The thought makes Asahina blush a little.
They’ve hugged many times, but how would it feel to run her fingers through Kyouko’s long, beautiful hair? To wake up to pretty purple eyes and a tired, lazy smile right beside her?
Though, Asahina giggles to herself, knowing Kyouko’s morning habits, she’d probably get kicked out of bed. Then she stops laughing because she notices how easily she thought of them sleeping in the same bed together, and locking lips, just as if it were nothing. Sure, Kyouko has kissed her on the forehead and on the cheek on rare occasions. Maybe the shift isn’t as big as one would expect.
How would it feel to tell Kyouko she loves her, and that she’s glad to have that anchor in her life – to pull her up from the depths of grief and sorrow when she’s mourning the lost; when she’s a swimmer drowning in her own tears at the sacrifice of a well-loved fighter, and the sudden death of a well-loved brother.
Perhaps Touko is right. There’s no telling who you love and who you fall in love with. Maybe she’s been in love with Kyouko for a while now, and just never realized it. Maybe that’s the case.
There’s a lot of ‘maybes’.
But Asahina is sure that she’ll work it out. She’s always been good at diving in headfirst and thinking later. It’s in her very nature to be a risk taker, and this is no different.
“Hey, Kyouko?” She asks, and the detective looks up, sliding a finger down the page of her book and shutting it.
“What is it?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Have you ever dated a girl before?”
Kyouko, to her credit, does not seem as stunned by the question as she is confused. Aoi decides that Kyouko has been asked a number or strange questions in her life, and this hardly comes close to topping the list. The detective flicks lavender hair over her shoulder – it’s shorter than it was at Hope’s Peak, but still longer than Aoi would ever have the patience to grow her own hair – and shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Would you date me if I asked?”
Kyouko chuckles lightly. “Would you ask?”
“If you were okay with it,” she answers confidently. She doesn’t miss the tips of Kyouko’s ears turning red, but she chooses not to make a comment. It’s cute.
“You know I would be down for anything that isn’t going to bother me,” Kyouko says after a beat, in that roundabout way of hers that means ‘yes’ to anyone that knows her well enough.
“I’ve never done this before,” Asahina admits.
“I know,” the other smiles. “The only person you’ve ever dated was Makoto. And that was for five minutes.”
“Sh-shush! He told you about that?”
“He can never keep secrets from me.” Her comment is smug, but Asahina must have had some sort of forlorn or indignant (who knows? She’s not looking at herself in the mirror during these conversations) expression, because Kyouko immediately adds, “If you want to know a secret about me, you can ask him, you know. Tell him it’s about you, and that I gave permission. If he gets suspicious, say ‘noodles and mayonnaise’, and it will be fine.”
The brunette laughs, mentally noting to see Makoto later. More importantly… “Noodles and mayonnaise?”
Kyouko laughs, and though it’s a rare sound, it’s almost uplifting, and Asahina wonders how she didn’t notice how much she might have been in love with her before. It’s obvious, now that she thinks about it.
“It’s a long story.” The detective explains, “I’ll tell it to you another time. I’ve got to go babysit Komaru while Touko and Byakuya are on a mission.”
Asahina rolls her eyes, “You know she hates it when you call it ‘babysitting’.”
“It’s true,” Kirigiri shrugs, getting up and stretching. “And I take no responsibility for the terminology. Touko started it.”
“Fair enough. Don’t spoil her too much!”
“You know I will, anyway. You should pay a visit to the older Naegi and let him know his sister is coming back with every little thing her pure heart desires.” There’s a glint in her eye, and Asahina grins.
“Noodles and mayonnaise?”
“Noodles and mayonnaise.”
Kirigiri gets over the shock quickly. Spontaneity should be expected with Aoi, and the sudden, and very unexpected ‘let’s date’ situation only left her wondering why she didn’t say anything earlier. Aoi is as accepting as they come, as long as she understands the situation, and there really wasn’t anything to be afraid of.
Except, maybe, what Makoto would tell Aoi about her after that impromptu decision to let them become gossip buddies at the drop of a hat.
Her only consolation is that it is Makoto Naegi she’s trusted her secrets with, and knowing him, he wouldn’t be too much of a tease (if a tease at all).
Of course, when Aoi comes barrelling down the hallway, impossibly fast in her solid black heels, screeching, “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been in love with me since forever ago, you idiot?!”
Kyouko doesn’t have to think twice.
She covers Komaru’s eyes, leans over, and kisses Aoi just like she’s wanted to – quote, unquote – ‘since forever ago’.