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danganronpa-21 · 2 years ago

Text

General Warnings: Minor descriptions of wounds

Fandoms: Danganronpa

Relationships: Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto

Additional Tags: Feudal Japan AU, Falling in Love, Action & Romance, Friends to Lovers, Indirect Danganronpa Trigger Happy Havoc Spoilers, Everyone is Samurai (except for Kyoko who is the Empress), Yes the Kamakura period was a real era of Japanese history, It was one of the few that had female samurai so with the name added it seemed like a natural fit

Chapter Word Count: 11,287 words

Summary: Set in Japan's Kamukura period, Empress Kyoko takes on a new samurai in her army, and realizes she has fallen in love with him... when he is moments away from his death.

A wound gapes in Naegi Makoto’s side as he is carried across the battlefield.

Anger and anguish sear into Empress Kirigiri Kyoko’s heart.

She could kill Enoshima for this. Order her samurai forward and have that wretched woman’s head cleaved clean from her shoulders. Hell, she would do it herself if her advisors could contain their fits. She wants to kill Enoshima for this. She wants to kill her for the invasion of her lands, for the massacre of her people, and for the kind-hearted man she has nearly sentenced to death.

Two years ago, she would never have anticipated that this would happen. Kizakura Koichi had assured her that female empresses, although rare, always had well-supported rules.

“A woman symbolizes order, and perfection,” he had said in a tone so confident she couldn’t help but believe him, “You cannot be everything your people will need all at once, but they will respect you. Rest assured, your highness, people from all over will come to see you as the jewel you are.”

How could he have known? How could he have known that someone like Enoshima Junko would come along, hungry for the very thing she is said to oppose? He swore to protect her from the moment her father fell to that witch, and now… and now she has nearly lost another person she loves because of her. Death is too good for her.

Kyoko does her best to apply pressure to his wound as she rides, her horse carrying her as fast as it can manage. The wind rushes past them, blowing her hair in wild directions, but she finds that she cannot care so long as she can still see what is happening to this man she has come to care for. His chest plate has been pried from his body by Hagakure Yasuhiro, leaving his clothing exposed and the inky carmine colour of his blood to soak into the fabric. If it were not so unbecoming of an empress, she might have cursed. How could she allow this to happen? She should have been at his side.

As her eyes flutter shut, whispering a silent prayer, she wills herself to believe that he will survive. Hope is the one thing they have in this war, and it is the one thing he has taught her to hold dear.

______________________________________________________________

The day they met, the empress almost thought nothing of him.

Kizakura Koichi was the one who brought him in. The rest of the court had raised their brows and shook their heads almost the moment they saw him. To take a vow as a samurai was to take a vow of honour, strength, and protection, but the man – no, the boy – they saw before them did not appear as if he were prepared to do any sort of protecting and fighting. Small and scrawny in appearance and seemingly slight in personality, he would have no place on the battlefield. One of Junko’s soldiers could take a sword to his side and that would be it for him. His blood would be on their hands, staining their soil, and they would have to live knowing that he was not ready when they tried to send him out to war.

The only problem with that was that he did not share their opinion on his stature nor his demeanour, and was insistent on lending himself to the cause.

“Both my mother and father were slain by Enoshima’s soldiers,” he explained with a voice that could not dare waver, though they all could hear it wanting to, “It is only my sister and I now. I cannot leave her defenceless and prepared to die. I cannot allow more lives to be taken in the name of conquest without doing something.”

A noble man, Kyoko thought, fingers drumming on the armrest of her throne, her long nails making tink tink tink sounds as they made contact with the gold. But such nobility can be attributed to stupidity as well. Don’t go throwing your life away for an honour you cannot hope to achieve, Naegi Makoto.

These thoughts have been woven into her from the moment she was born, but at times she found herself wondering if they were ever truly hers. As empress, she had been elevated above all others. Though it was always hard to be taken seriously as a woman, there was a certain amount of status she was awarded — a superiority in more than one sense of the word. Seeing a common man, someone as painfully usual as Naegi Makoto, it did not stir great emotion in her – at least, not when it come to the subject of her battles ahead and her own protection. Truth be told, she found herself wanting to protect him more. That was her duty as empress, after all. To protect and consider the needs of her people. Did this man truly need to be sent off to war, or could they avoid sacrificing his and his sister’s safety some other way? Her fingers continued to drum on the armrest, and she pursed her lips.

“And what do you propose that you will bring forth to the imperial army, Naegi-san?”

Most of the courtiers were used to her unwavering voice and powerful gaze, but Makoto seemed to shrink under it a little. If he could not survive under this scrutiny, how could he hope to survive in the war? Her body craved a sigh, but she did not want to dismiss this young man so rudely just yet. He was offering to put his life on the line for her, after all. Even if he seemed unlikely, there had been other bright heroes with equally humble origins. Perhaps there could be a place for him yet, if he could learn to stand on his own two feet. It probably wasn’t easy, being under the inspection of the most powerful woman in the country.

“Anything that I can, your Imperial Majesty,” he said carefully, his olive-green eyes locked on her face. It was difficult to notice before, but in a way, Naegi Makoto was… handsome. Not unbearably so, but he was at least a little attractive. Smooth, lightly tanned skin, messy brown hair that stuck up in all sorts of places, a pair of lips that looked like they were always prepared to smile, a button nose that added to the softness of his face, and those eyes… They were so full of fire, so full of life, that Kyoko could not help want to look into them. She’d never seen such intense eyes in her life, and legend had it that her family had had people shrinking under their violet stare for generations. But to see someone like him, so meek-looking but with such fire… It awoke something in her. Whether it was something like love or a drive to live, she did not know, but she liked it nonetheless.

“Anything?”

He nodded. “Anything.”

She flittered her gaze away, hoping to maintain her image of aloofness. “Anything is good, but only theoretically. If you would truly give me anything that you can, Naegi-san, what would you say are your special talents? Things from you that are assured to enhance our army?”

The question appeared to stump him at first, a crease digging into his brow. His teeth bore down on his lip. The rest of the courtiers began to mutter around her, all too ready to voice their disapproval. The army needed warriors of strength, people who actually understood that there was more to the job than wandering into the palace and requesting an audience with the empress. Military histories, special skills, profound character – these were the things that were valued. If Makoto could not provide any of these things, what business did he have there? Why was the Empress even bothering to consider him? Kyoko waved off their words, and waited for Makoto’s answer.

“My optimism,” he answered, expression tentative, wondering if that could possibly suffice, “I have been told that I am… more hopeful than most people, even in times of hardship. That can be powerful in a war. I-Improving morale is important.”

A hint of smile played at Kyoko’s lips, though she could not recall when that sneaky little grin managed to slip past her. “I’ll give you that, I suppose. And what of your military skills? Have you any background?”

“A bit of combat training from my father,” he confessed, “Nothing special, but I… I don’t think I will have much trouble learning. I could learn quickly.”

The last two phrases sounded so quickly tacked on that the courtiers started to rumble with conversation again. This time, she shot them a look. No twisting of her face into a sneer of warning, just a cold, hard stare of expectation, like the one her tutors used to give when she would goof off during her lessons. It silenced them immediately.

“And what of your mind? Have you any education?” She asked, turning her head back to look at Makoto.

“A little. I’m a good puzzle solver.”

She does not have the energy to look back to see the faces of the courtiers again. She cannot value their judgement right now, not when she knows that they are not seeing what she sees. They cannot see that fire in his eyes, and the potential that is dancing beneath the surface. Is it really there? Are they trying to save her from this whole debacle?

It mattered not.

Once he shared the flame of his hope, it would not leave her.

______________________________________________________________

They met a few more times between then and now. Mostly during check-ins on the military, collecting reports. He always made a point of saying hello and striking up a conversation, even in spite of how it seemed to rub the other recruits the wrong way. They thought he acted too chummy with her. She could not have cared less. It was nice to have someone be so friendly, and it was not as if it was anything too personal.

It was not until a few months in, on a late night in the palace gardens, that the two of them would come to encounter each other with real vulnerability for the first time.

It was a rare occurrence for her to be alone anywhere. Even in times of peace, it was difficult to be anywhere without guards. In times of war, this was even worse, but with the sheer amount of bloodshed, that position just became much less important if she was not escorted outside of the palace. She could certainly handle her own if it was just her in her own home. She had been out in actual battles, though it drove the court insane. With that being the case, however, they could not deny her a little agency in being by herself every once in a while. That was how her trips to the gardens came to be, and how her next encounter with Naegi Makoto would begin.

She had been stressed about something. What it was, she could no longer recall, but its ties to the war were certain. Wherever she turned, an object of stress was sure to follow. Blood seemed to seep into every aspect of her life these days, and no matter how hard she tried, it only continued to stain her hands. The walks in the gardens were small respite, but they were something, and she knew better than to underestimate the power of that. Having time to hear herself think was pleasant, and she truly did enjoy wandering around in the moonlight. The garden just looked different in the wee hours of the night, as the moon and stars drifted towards their place in the sky. She swore the light from them sometimes made the flowers glow.

Seeing Makoto there was unusual, though. The samurai were welcome in certain areas of the palace, but Makoto had never been one to dawdle. Apart from his hellos at the troop inspections, he tended to maintain an even stronger sense of decorum than most. He knew very well that he was a lower man, looking up at a radiant being far beyond his station. Togami Byakuya, one of his fellow soldiers, had to repeatedly remind him that he did not have to bend a knee every time he saw her. Though it stung a bit to think that she was so above others that the common man could not even greet her properly, Makoto’s clumsy insistence on formality was… kind of cute, in its own way. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone.

“Naegi Makoto.”

Merely hearing his name made him jump. Were his superior around, she is certain that he would have been thoroughly scolded. Whether it would be for acting cowardly in front of the empress or not being aware of his surroundings… well, that was anyone’s guess. All she knew was that there would probably be something. Not that that should really be a surprise to anyone. He took it in stride, but his humbler origins paired with his gentle demeanour usually meant that the higher-ups were harder on him than they were on some of the other recruits.

“Oh, your Imperial Majesty, you scared me,” he said, scratching at his cheek, “I didn’t expect to see you in the palace gardens at this hour.”

Kind as it was, she found herself too exhausted to share his amusement. She rubbed at her temples. “Well, it is my palace. I am prone to moving about it as I please.”

Ouch. Sharp. Too sharp. The royals have always had a reputation of being a cold, calculating people, but she’d tried to train herself to be better at interactions. The venture would help with future diplomacy, and stop the claims of Junko’s allies, who insisted that her comportment had something to do with thinking herself as entirely superior to others. Even now, it would probably smooth over her relationship with the servants and courtiers. It would be a lie to say that she had been in perfect humour right then, and she knew her prickliness made them talk about her behind her back. It’s typical for royalty to become gossip, but she hated it. She hated that everyone could spend the time making her out to be such a frigid, uptight witch when she was killing herself to keep them all safe. She knew it to be unfair for her to act in such a way, and she tried not to, but so early in her reign, this behaviour would be bound to colour people’s opinion of her. If she acted like this with Makoto as well, who knew what he would think?

No, she shouldn’t worry about that. He may not have known her well, but he knew enough to understand that she was never intentionally going to be unkind. It was all just stress, building up inside like a fungus that threatened to ail her. She was sure that someone like him is able to see that. She cannot be the composed Empress forever, especially not when trouble has come so early in her reign.

As if to compliment her for her perceptiveness, Makoto’s brows furrowed, and he stepped forward to get a better look at her. The corners of his mouth begin to tug into a frown as the moonlight gave him a clearer picture of her face, noticing the dark circles under her eyes.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked quietly, tilting his head to the side as if to drink in all of her features. For a minute it seemed almost as if he was going to reach a hand up to brush her cheek, but he stopped himself quickly. They did not have anywhere near close enough of a relationship for him to do something like that, but the fact that the instinct arose in him at all puzzled her. It seemed to puzzle him, too.

He doesn’t mean anything malicious by it, she assured herself. He’s not that kind of person.

Still, she averted her gaze from his. Suddenly it felt like too much trouble. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice flat and grey as the stones that paved the garden paths, “I simply have had a lot to contend with as of late.”

He nodded thoughtfully. However, the concern etched into his expression did not quite disappear. It was only slightly tempered. “Ah. So you were taking a break in the gardens, then?”

She let out a long sigh, trying to focus on the appearance of the flowers. Most of them had closed up their blossoms for the day, processing all of their food from the sunlight hours, but their beauty endured. It was much easier to focus on than the man before her, whom she found she both did and did not want to know at the same time. He was confusing.

Like me but don’t like me. Like me but don’t like me too much.

Yes, that’s more like it. As her subject, it was important that he liked her. As one of her samurai, however, it was important that a certain distance be kept. If something were to happen to him out on the battlefield, she could not afford to suffer for that. She could not live with his death on her conscience, another pint of blood splattered on her earth. That fire in his eyes… she could not stand thinking that she would be the one to extinguish it. That is why she had to pull away from his attempts to share the flame… even if a small part of her wanted to take pleasure in his warmth.

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Is there anything that I can help you with, milady?”

Kyoko’s gaze darted back to him involuntarily. “What?”

“I-I mean, is there something I can do to help you with your heavy workload? I know a lot of it is probably related to the court, but… is there anything I could do to help for the war effort, maybe? Or something I could do to help ease your mind?”

“Ease my mind?”

Makoto’s face reddened slightly. “S-Sorry, your Imperial Majesty, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, it’s just… I wondered if you might need some personal support. You seem very tired, and I heard that the courtiers h-have been hard on you lately, so I just wanted to ask and see if maybe you needed a confidante.”

And you would suggest yourself?

Her heart skipped a beat – something she internally scolded it for. She would not let herself get attached to this man. She barely even knew him. He barely even knew her. That’s the way things had to be. Her position demanded it.

Yet she couldn’t help but feel herself melting as she looks at him, his olive-green eyes tinged with sincerity. Was he genuinely worried for her health? It had to be the first time in a few days that someone has actually noticed her composure slipping. Even the kindest among her people had become so preoccupied with their own plights that they hadn’t noticed her struggle. That tended to be the price you paid for being the one on top.

“I… suppose I might.”

Idiot!

“Would you allow me to be that person then, milady? A-Assuming I’m not overstepping, of course.”

A long pause hung between them for a moment before she released yet another a sigh and shook her head, knowing in her heart that she was too tired to try and beat this. “I would.”

A smile snuck across his face, his eyes twinkling with delight. He had a nice smile. Had she ever really seen him smile before now? Maybe during their swift hellos. This one seems different. It sent a warmth spreading through her chest, and strangely through her cheeks. Quietly, she prayed that it did not mean anything.

“Might we walk through the gardens and talk, then?”

“That… sounds reasonable.” She paused for a moment, letting the personal implications of her acceptance sink into her own mind. “Follow me. I’ll show you the garden’s best.”

With a cheerful nod, Makoto followed eagerly, seemingly quite happy to get to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with his leader. It is not so often that someone of his standing is given such an invitation. In fact, it is not often that someone is given that invitation at all. He clearly understood that this was, in some way, an honour she was granting him… although she cannot say that she saw it that way.

Their walk was silent at first, only taking in their footsteps on the stone pathways and the crickets singing in the dead of night. Contrary to what she expected, the silence did not feel all that uncomfortable – and it had little to do with forgetting that Makoto is there. In fact, she found that she could barely get away from his eyes. In no way was he being invasive, but she could not help but feel as if he was always watching her, almost with a sense of admiration.

“I don’t mean to question your decisions, milady, but what made you decide to come to the gardens at this hour? With everything going on, I’m sure that you’re exhausted from the day’s events. Why put yourself through a little extra?” He asked, openly, almost as if they were dear friends. It was strange, but she did not dislike it.

“I use my time in the gardens to decompress. I would scarcely be able to sleep if I went directly to bed after my councils for the day.”

Makoto’s eyes widened a little, and she could see him bearing down on his lip out of the corner of her eye. “When do your meetings tend to end for the day?”

“Typically after supper, to allow me time to focus on answering important letters and filling out paperwork. However, given that Enoshima Junko has brought war, the answer is something closer to two hours past nightfall.”

“That long?! I heard that you would do anything for us, but somehow, I underestimated your dedication. Do you still carry on doing your paperwork after that?”

“But of course. I try to leave at least an hour or two for it, and then I take my stroll through the gardens, as I am doing this evening.”

Makoto’s brows furrowed. “Are you sure that that is a wise decision?”

From what she heard, Makoto was the bashful type, so she wondered where he got the courage to outright question his empress right to her face. Somewhere beneath the surface, however, a hint of a smirk threatened to play at Kyoko’s lips. He could be fun to tease with this.

“Are you questioning your Empress?” She said, voice as flat and monotone as she could make it. The words were barely out of her mouth for ten seconds when Makoto started sputtering, bowing in apology – and then nearly tripping over his feet because he tried to bow while walking. She could do little else other than snicker softly and shake her head. “It was only a jest, Naegi-kun. You invited me to speak my thoughts freely, and so, you may also speak yours.”

A sigh of relief shot out of him, and a hand came to rest over his heart. “You frightened me!” he laughed. “Nobody told me you were so teasing!”

She winked, but does not smile. It would be improper to give him the wrong idea… whatever that idea would be. “I’m full of surprises. That is how I intend on winning the war.”

He only half-smiled at that comment. She cannot say that she blamed him for that being his response. Wars will inevitably weigh on the rulers who engage in them, but it is the people who will suffer most in the turmoil. Makoto had already lost his parents to the ravaging of their kingdom, so she can imagine that the war is a sore subject for him. It’s something they have in common; she supposed. It might just be her exhaustion that made her insensitive to this.

“Jokes aside, your Imperial Majesty, I really do worry that your diligence may be putting you in a bad position. Are your advisors not worried for your health?”

Kyoko could only shrug. “They don’t seem to be,” she paused for a moment, “Are you?”

Makoto’s mouth opened for a moment, then quickly closed again, trying to avert his eyes. “I… I know it is not my place, but…”

“But what?”

“You look absolutely exhausted, milady.”

“Do I?”

He nodded. “Even in the moonlight I can see the dark circles under your eyes. The other day when you were inspecting the troops, you mixed up two of your top commanders.”

“So?”

“Your commanders are two different sexes.”

Kyoko’s lips pressed into a flat line. She did not mean to be curt, but it was very unlike anyone who was not a servant to worry about her health. Only those closest to her tended to do that, so the presence of Makoto, a regular soldier, trying to do such a thing was… confusing. Uncomfortable, maybe? No, perhaps that would be going too far…

“What is your point here, Naegi-kun?”

“That you’re greatly important to your people, and as much as we appreciate all that you are trying to do in helping us win this war, we don’t want your care for us to be the reason you fall into harm’s way.”

“I’m not in any danger at the present moment.”

“But you could be! Enoshima draws closer and closer every day. Weren’t you saying just the other day that she took over two cities and a town?”

She swallowed thickly. Much as she would like to deny it, Makoto did have a point. That villainess had been steamrolling the country with remarkable speed; she could be there before a woman of six months’ pregnancy gave birth. She just did not want to consider how easily she could crumble under her enemy, with no one to succeed her in the throne. If she were to die, then the kingdom would be Junko’s for the taking, and that is a larger threat than anyone is prepared to deal with. Letting her people throw away their lives for her would destroy her, but dying there and now would destroy them.

“Yes, I was… but it is a complex situation. The way I see it, it is either you or I, and I have never been the kind of woman who would want to throw away the common man just to save my own skin. One of us will have to admit to some weakness, will have to fall in some capacity, and I cannot trust that it will be easier to do that to others like yourself. Blood of the royal lineage or not, a kingdom is nothing without its people.”

He fell silent for a moment. Something about his attitude told her that this was not the answer he expected. He seemed to shift his positioning ever so slightly and bite at his lip, as if he was reflecting in depth on what she said.

“But a great leader can inspire the kingdom to move forward,” he said finally. “Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way. To judge one person’s life as more important than another’s does not make sense. We need to look at everyone’s contributions as something with value.”

Kyoko hummed in acknowledgement. He had a point there. No good would come from dismissing one as more or less important than the other, but still… she knew it would circle back around into his concern for her, and she was still rather unsure of how to feel about that.

“If that’s the way we choose to look at things, then we can consider both that the people are in need, and that you need your rest.”

She sighed and shook her head once more. What had this man so determined to fuss over her? Was there some kind of bug he’d been bitten by that she just didn’t know about?

The love bug, perhaps, she heard Koichi’s teasing voice in the back of her mind. That comment was one she quickly pushed away. At most, Makoto could admire her. It cannot be said in any capacity that he should love her. The two did not know each other well enough for that to be within the realm of possibility, at least as far as she was concerned.

A wisp of a smile found its way to her face nonetheless.

“Do you think me so frail?” She asked, sure to keep her tone openly teasing this time, lest he misunderstand her intentions.

“I think you are so kind,” he said without missing a beat. “Anyone with half a mind can tell that despite your-”

Foot in your mouth, she almost laughed, noticing his hesitation to speak the words. She would be willing to bet several thousand yen that he was about to use words such as “cold” and “calculating” to describe her.

“- ahem, intimidating exterior…”

Ooh, saved face.

“… You truly care about the people you are leading. I mean, you had no reason to take me on other than the goodness of your own heart and your willingness to respect my wishes. I know when I came here, I was far from the ideal soldier, but you allowed me to be apart of your cause anyway.”

“I liked your fire,” she blurted out, not even thinking before the words left her lips, “I could tell you were passionate about what you were setting out to do. You cared about what would happen next.”

Makoto smiled at this comment, taking a moment to scratch at his cheek awkwardly. She had come to know of this as a nervous tick of his based off of their other, smaller interactions. Whenever he felt strange or bashful, he fell into the habit. It was oddly charming.

“That’s what I mean, milady. Most people don’t look at someone like me and see anything worthwhile, but you actually looked at me. You thought of what I meant as a person, of what I wanted. I was human to you before you even got to know me.”

I could say the same about you, she thought. The passing idea spread another pump of warmth throughout her chest, although she cannot say she understood why. Best not to consider it now, she decided.

“And I’m not the only person you granted this to. I know Togami-sama rather regularly disagrees with your policies and stirs trouble in your court, but you never give up on him. You treat him with the same dignity and respect as you do any other person.”

Well… mostly. The two of them are prone to little verbal spars, but he was not wrong – at the end of the day, there are plenty of things about Togami Byakuya that she respects... Even if he did behave as if he was the gods’ gift to the earth.

“And what about when there was that scandal with Oogami-sama and her family? How she was manipulated and tortured into giving over information, and the rest of the court wanted you to dismiss her for being a traitor to the crown, but you wouldn’t allow it? You gave her a chance to redeem herself and her family, and allowed her to stand by Asahina-san as well, who helped her heal.”

That had been a tense time. She had not thought of much during it other than protecting her people. As far as Junko was concerned, she was hoping that Kyoko would make an example out of people like Oogami Sakura, to show off her cruelty and vouch for herself as the superior leader. Propaganda, she supposed. But Kyoko could not bring herself to hurt Sakura when she had done nothing within free will. Torture was the tool of cowards – people will say anything to stop such severe pain. She could not blame Sakura for her actions, and she would not allow the others to as well. She hadn’t had to think much about it. It was just what made the most sense to do, yet Makoto thinks of it when he wants to give examples of how she is kind.

“Or what about all of the money that you have sent in the direction of that orphanage that was decimated by Enoshima? How they were able to rebuild within a matter of a few weeks, and how the children were hopeful and well-fed all that time? You could have left the community to handle it, but you chose not to.”

“I’m just being a good empress.”

“You are choosing to be a good empress. People like Enoshima are not.”

Kyoko frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand your point, Naegi-kun.”

“My point is that your kindness is something everyone in Japan admires about you. We love that you are so willing to take care of us, and to ensure that we have a future beyond what is happening now. It is what inspires us to never bend to the wills of people like Enoshima. You may not see your life as inherently more valuable than ours, milady, but you are the symbol of the future we are striving towards. We want to take care of that future, just as much as that future takes care of us.”

“So what you’re saying is-”

“Please, go to sleep at a reasonable hour and eat three meals a day!”

Both of them erupted into laughter so naturally that Kyoko’s heart skipped a beat.

______________________________________________________________

A woman like Maizono Sayaka was doomed from the beginning, and Makoto seemed to be the only major actor in the army that did not know it.

A songstress turned warrior was a trophy target for Enoshima Junko. To slay not just a commander, but a singer of the empress’s court, would bring her a satisfaction that they could barely begin to understand. As blood leaked on the woman’s white underclothes, the same shade of pure white that she had worn during her songs before the war, Makoto hung his head over her and wept. Try as she might, Kyoko could not find the right words to console him. After all, judging by the gaping wound in her belly, her death had been anything but quick. She and several others had learned the hard way that five minutes was the shortest amount of time it took a person to bleed to death.

“This is all my fault,” Makoto whimpered, brushing aside the inky blue bangs that are still matted to Sayaka’s forehead, “If I had just stayed… when you asked me to change positions…”

She was your commander, Kyoko longed to say. You were meant to follow her orders.

Instead, she chose to hold her tongue. Logic would not comfort Makoto now. Not when considering the loss of his friend, nor when considering that he had now also lost a piece of home… The friendship between Makoto and Sayaka had bloomed because they grew up in the same town, and had some of the same education… Dare she say it, Makoto may have once held a bit of affection for the girl. Now that she was gone, her spirit being guided to peaceful rest, Kyoko could not blame him for his grief and confusion. Had she any love in her heart for someone like that, she felt certain that she would have been the same. Even just seeing it in him hurt… but she knew that there was only so much she could do about it.

“Naegi-kun. Can I speak with you for a moment?”

He looked up from Sayaka’s body for a moment, staring expectantly. When he realized that she wanted to take him aside, his gaze flicked back to Sayaka’s lifeless body, and his lower lip trembled. Then, he turned back to her and nodded again.

“It’s about Maizono-san, is it not?”

She blinked. “I’m surprised you figured it out.”

Quietly, he pulled himself up from the ground and follows his empress, the rest of the recruits lingering on them until finally they were face to face in the castle’s hall.

“I have… heard some reports from Kuwata-kun, who was with her, when she was… when it happened…”

The words were surprisingly difficult to get out. Her tongue felt like cotton as she tried to speak, each word coming out oh-so-carefully, like she was piecing together some kind of puzzle. It is probably for the best that this was the case – her coldness has not lent itself well to comforting others in the past. In fact, it is often what has deterred her from being able to do it effectively.

“And… Maizono-san, in her last moments… as she lay dying, she was thinking of you… and praying that you were safe…”

Makoto said nothing, nor did his eyes. All she could see on his face was that he is hanging onto her every word.

“Kuwata-kun said that she thought herself coward. She actively sent you to a worse position because she could… she struggled to…”

The empress felt the urge to hang her head like a scolded child. There is no use in trying to act like Sayaka died without cowardice or pain, but that still does not mean that her comforting should destroy the relationship the two of them had. Kyoko would rather face the truth than be consoled with a lie, and she could only hope that Makoto was the same.

“She was unsure of her positioning when my tactician brought it up with her. Her hesitation attracted failure.”

Makoto blinked. “Why are you telling me this?”

Kyoko drew in a long, deep breath, then released it. “Because… you are the kind of warrior who can overcome this. Because you can move past death of your allies – Maizono-san and Kuwata-kun – and keep moving forward. Without someone like you, the others will never be able to break free of a desperate situation. You may think yourself an ordinary soldier, Naegi-kun, but the others look to you.”

“Move past their deaths?” He parroted, colour draining from his face. “That’s… I could never do that.”

For a moment, she considered opening her mouth, but thought better of it. It was hard to tell at first, but there was most certainly something brewing under the surface… a kind of storm. If she had to guess, it was that fire of his that bubbled up – she just hoped that it was not one that would invoke its ire upon her.

“I’m going to carry them with me for the rest of my life. How could I possibly “move past” something like that? Maizono-san… Kuwata-kun… I will carry them with me forever,” his voice spiked suddenly, his shouting surprising even him, “I will carry them with me wherever I go!”

As his voice rang out, so too did the weight of his words. Kyoko found herself stunned to silence, unsure of what to say. She had never been good at comforting people, but she thought maybe what she could say would help… yet Makoto seemed to be making a choice she would never have anticipated. Perhaps it really was his passion after all.

“So instead of forgetting them… you are choosing the more difficult path.”

She paused, drinking in the information, as a small, hopefully comforting smile graced her.

“Well, I have high expectations for you… By the way, I wanted to ask…”

“Hm?”

“… How did you know I wanted to talk to you about Maizono-san?”

“Oh, well… I’m psychic.”

Kyoko jolted back, an action that embarrassed her immediately, although she tried not to show it. “Huh?!”

“Just a jest, milady,” he almost laughed, giving her a particularly weak smile in return, “I have good intuition.”

______________________________________________________________

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that our conversation from before went right over your head.”

Makoto would never have been so smug as to say those words, yet somehow it was as if she could feel them emanating from him. He was barely even approved by the guards to be invited to visit her when she is in such a state, but he still had the audacity to have this air of rightness about him… Alright, perhaps she was exaggerating. Really, he wasn’t doing much of anything that could cause her shame, other than sitting nearby, helping to prepare a meal for her that one of the servants left. It was not Makoto’s job to care for her, yet his diligence upon arrival made it seem like this was his job all along. She wondered if he felt guilty for not having more of an influence on her, or not being there at the right time. She hoped not. It was not his fault that she barely slept and then thought she could handle battle.

“I appreciate you coming to see me, Naegi-kun.” She murmured quietly, unaccustomed to speaking after a few days of healing. “Although I am sorry that it means you have to look after me…”

Makoto shook his head thoughtfully, carefully breaking up seaweed with his fingers to sprinkle atop a bowl of steaming jasmine rice. “No need for apologies, milady. I’m happy to look after you.”

Kyoko hummed. “Even after I neglected to take your advice?”

His eyes flicked up from the seaweed for a moment, and it almost looked like he was going to say something, but he seemed to think better of it and just looked down again. Was he mad at her? Being concerned with that at all felt strange, but she supposed she could understand it if he was. He made it clear in their earlier conversation that he was counting on her just as much as she was counting on him.

“I’d heard you were headstrong.” She could have burst out laughing at how casually Makoto said it. No others spoke to her like that, and though she could take it as an insult, the honesty was refreshing. “I anticipated it might happen.”

“You did, did you?”

He nodded. “My sister can be like that as well. More than once I’ve had to drag her out of a problem because she got in too deep,” a slight chuckle tinged his speech, “She has a bit of a weird sense of pride sometimes.”

Kyoko softened at the mention of the girl. Though they had had a little bit of time to get to know each other since that one conversation, she still only heard bits and pieces about her. Talking about his home life before the war still seemed to pain Makoto, so she had made a point of avoiding the topic when they did speak. Honestly, she might have heard more about Sayaka than she did his sister, even after the latter passed.

“How is your sister?”

He smiled gently, although she noticed that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “She’s in good health… and worried about me, as any sister would be. She asks about how things are here, what the people are like, what you are like…”

She quirked a brow. “And what did you tell her about me?”

“That you are much kinder than the rumours about you say. And that the rumours about your beauty are true – she asked about those.”

Somehow, she was disappointed that Makoto himself didn’t take the initiative to tell tales of her allure. “Well, that’s kind of you.”

He shrugged. “Just answering her questions…” His smile faded. “Although I fear I may have answered too many. She’s been asking about joining the army as of late.”

“I could see about taking her on.”

“Komaru is not built for war.” Makoto cut her off the moment she finished, still seemingly unfazed by interrupting his superior – what confidence he has built! He had certainly changed a bit, from the man who used to be excessively respectful before that night in the gardens. Honestly, she appreciated his candor. “She is far too innocent. When all of this started, she could do nothing but cry, and now she wants to join the army? It makes no sense.”

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, surprising Makoto into looking up at her. Their gazes linked together, and it was the first time that she realized just how rich of a colour his eyes were. Before it was the fire that attracted her, but now… the harmony in the sea of green was just as appealing. “I will not pretend to know a great deal about your sister, but there was a time where most thought this impossible for you, and you are here now. Surely that must mean something?”

His brows knitted together as she spoke, at first grateful for the words, but then seeming to evaluate them much more carefully. “I understand your thoughts, your Imperial Majesty, but I… I just don’t think I could fathom seeing her hurt. No one wants to see their family in harm’s way.”

“I understand. I don’t have a sibling of my own, but my father did come before me… I know what it’s like to watch someone you love charge headlong into battle, unsure if they will make it to the end.”

The crease between Makoto’s brows could only deepen at the words, but his eyes softened in comprehension.

“I’m sorry, I hadn’t meant to upset you.”

She raised a hand, putting on a somewhat easy smile in hopes of making him more comfortable. Unlike him, talking about her family did not offend her. She often had much less to say than someone like him would anyway. “No need to apologize. It was I who asked about your sister, and I am merely continuing the conversation. Besides… it feels like ages ago that my father walked the earth alongside us.”

“Do you miss him?” Makoto blurted out, only to look as if he wanted to kick himself for asking. Considering everything he had done and said so far, it was almost painfully ironic. If it weren’t for their current subject matter, Kyoko could have laughed.

“Sometimes.” She paused. “We weren’t particularly close. His work always brought him away from me. For a long time I resented him for it, but now, actually being here myself… I suppose I can sympathize with what he was doing. It may not have been what I needed, but perhaps it was all he could provide. The way he saw things, I think… it was him and I against the world.”

Makoto nodded, appearing uncertain of what he should say. That was alright with her. It was just nice to have someone listen.

“I’m sure he’d be very proud, if he could see how you’re doing. I know I am.”

The comment caught Kyoko off-guard, and she had to fight not to start blushing. “T-Thank you,” she muttered, praying he didn’t notice her embarrassment – how did he always manage to put her in such a state? “What about you?”

He blinked, surprised that she would have anything more to ask about him at all. Did people not ask about him and his life, she wondered? It would certainly be unusual to not do so. “What about me?”

“If the memory is not painful for you, I long to ask… what was your family like?”

He smiled softly, sadly. The look on his face told her immediately that he was thinking of his parents. She almost wanted to tell him to stop and not answer, just so he wouldn’t have to relive that pain, but when he began to speak, it appeared as if this might have been something good for him. Maybe he did need to speak about them more than he had been doing.

“They were… nice. Typical, really. Working class, perhaps more on the frugal side. My father had some military experience and education, which is where I got my skills from, but it was never really enough to stay comfortably afloat. He worked two jobs, and even then, my mother had to take up spinning silk to make sure ends met. They were hard workers, and kind people. There wasn’t a person alive they weren’t willing to help, even when it was hard for us, and they loved Komaru and myself with everything they had. I never doubted that they cared about us, not for a moment.”

His eyes sparkled as he talked about his family.

“And Komaru?”

“Komaru is like any other little sister – a tad mischievous, but cheerful and a pleasure to spend time with. She’s still young, so she relies upon me a great deal, often crying and getting scared by the dark clouds that surround us… but there’s bravery there, too. She rises to challenges set in front of her, regardless of whether she thinks she can. She cares so much about the people around her, and overall, I think she just makes my world a brighter place.”

Kyoko smiled. “They sound lovely. I’m sure you miss them a great deal.”

“I do…” He sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. His eyes lingered down at the table for a moment, as if they were searching for something, some hint of his family, but they eventually found their way back to her. “Maybe, when all of this is over, I can bring you to meet Komaru. I’m sure she would be honoured to have an audience with the Empress.”

“I would like that. However, if it’s not too much to ask…”

“Yes?”

Somehow, that stubborn blush rose in her cheeks. Oh, how she wished she could kick it away. How did he always manage to do this to her?

“Would you please tell me more? I know so little of your life, Naegi-kun, and if it’s alright with you… I would love to know more.”

“O-Oh! Of course, milady. I-If you don’t mind, I would actually like to hear more about your upbringing as well.”

She smiled. “Sounds like we have an agreement, then.”

The hours that followed seemed like mere minutes as the two spoke, starting with the basics only to later delve into the intimate details of their lives, their hopes and fears, their dreams and wants… Dare she say it, it is entirely possible that nobody else had known Kyoko as much as Makoto did within those hours. For the first time in ages, she felt as if she may have truly connected to someone, someone who saw her for who she was – not just as an Empress, but a person. Talking with him was as easy and as natural as falling asleep. Did it feel the same for him too, she wondered? Perhaps not, given that he had no high station of his own to deal with, but she liked to think that she was a comfort to him. Away from his family and all he had ever known; she was sure he was lonely. If she could provide him even a little bit of support, that was all she wanted. After all, he always made her feel so safe.

Oh, god. She was in this far deeper than she had ever planned to be.

______________________________________________________________

Kirigiri Kyoko’s heart is in her throat as she passes Naegi Makoto off to Kimura Seiko, the latest in their line of healing experts. She is more of an expert in medicines than she is in saving lives, but she is all that they have access to right now, and Kyoko would rather die than not take a chance on her. When she took him on, she promised herself that no matter what happened, she would do all that she could to keep that light from going out. She fully intends to keep that promise.

Her delivery of Makoto safely to Seiko denotes that she should likely return to the battlefield. Yet for the first time in a long time, her knees shake at the prospect. With or without Makoto at her side, she would always have her confidence and her courage, but with his fate hanging in the balance… Well, it’s as if she can barely focus. Ever since she plucked him off the ground and threw him atop her horse, tearing her clothes to try and stop his bleeding wound, unease has pricked her heart. Not knowing whether he will live or die made her ache with a kind of longing she has never felt before, and though she knows that she should be more concerned with the soldiers who are defending her with their lives… Can she really go back out there without knowing?

She steals one last, long glance over at Seiko, who is perched over Makoto on her knees. Her chin-length white hair hangs in front of her face as she blots at his wound with a damp cloth, adding pressure in hopes of staunching the bleeding. At her side there are bandages and bottles of medicine, ready to clean and protect the wound, but all Kyoko can think about is if that alone will be enough. How could that possibly be enough?

Her hands curl into fists. No matter how it looks, she cannot afford to let her thoughts run wild. She must have faith that things will work out. If it were her lying there instead of Makoto, she knows that that is what he would have done. He would want her to get back out there.

“I will not be able to live the same without you, should you leave me, Makoto-kun…” she mutters under her breath, shaking her head. “So I expect that you will pull through. For your empress… and for the woman who…”

The woman who cares for you.

With those words still stubbornly clinging to Kyoko’s lips, she lifts herself back onto her horse, heart pounding with all its might. She does not dare look back at Seiko and Makoto once more. It will only make her want to stay. Instead, she draws her weapon from its sheath, and with a flick of the reigns, sends herself charging out into battle once more – ready to take on whatever Junko can throw at her.

For Makoto.

The hours she spends in battle are long and exhausting. They must have gone for at least two more after Makoto was grievously injured, and it went without saying that there were heavy losses on both sides. Oogami Sakura, Ishimaru Kiyotaka,Yamada Hifumi, Yasuhiro Taeko, Fujisaki Chihiro, and Oowada Mondo were just some of the more major names that were lost on her side – sons and daughters of daimyo who had pledged themselves to her cause, wanting to protect their lands and people. Yet with their deaths came several large losses from Enoshima’s side as well, taking out powerful confidants such as Ikusaba Mukuro and Masuda Yasuke – although rumour had it that it was Junko herself who destroyed them.

Nonetheless, the weight of this battle burrows itself into Kyoko’s soul. When the night comes, she will have to begin writing letters of condolences to their families. Each word of thanks will feel empty on both sides. She knows just as well as they do that they would rather have their son or daughter come home than to have them die honourably. She cannot blame them if they choose to resent her after this. She might do the same in her shoes.

God. The thought brings her back to Makoto once more, the person she has been trying so desperately to avoid. What if she returns to find him dead? What will she say to his sister, who would now be all alone in the world? A woman as young as her, with no other family, no husband… She would be without anyone to love and support her. Her heart squeezes in prayer. Makoto cannot be dead. If not for her sake, then for his sister’s. There has to be some goodness and justice in this world. There just has to be.

This is all she can repeat herself as she rides back to the medic’s tent.

Unkind as it is to say, the place quite literally smells like shit. A mixture of that and blood, vomit, and sterilizing equipment. Seiko works tirelessly within, alongside several others with lesser experience than she, wrapping bandages around bleeding torsos, wiping alcohol on sizable gashes, and saying final prayers for safe passage past Izanami. The air is thick and hot with agony, but she does not let it get to her. These people are in much greater pain than she. It would be tasteless of her to complain.

As she strides into the room, following closely behind a shy woman called Gekkogahara Miaya, she tries to offer the passing soldiers a few rare smiles, or even a “thank you for your service to the Empress”. It does not do much in the way of comfort, she knows, but many of them smile anyway. One even reminds her, with a toothy grin, that they will get past this. She dearly hopes that is true.

There are a few curtains set about between the beds to try and give the soldiers some privacy from their neighbours, so it takes some time to pin down exactly where he is, but with her naturally keen eye, the Empress doesn’t find it difficult to find him at all once they get close enough. She can hear him murmuring something to one of the nurses, something about not needing to worry for him. His voice is so raw that it almost takes her a moment to realize that it’s him, yet his words are so Makoto-like she could never fully miss it.

“I’ll be okay if you want to look after some of the others,” he assures his nurse, a redhead. Yukizome Chisa, if she remembers correctly. It was exactly like her to be fussing over someone like Makoto, from what she’s heard from others. She could not help but smile at the mental picture of the two of them together. “I promise, I’m sturdier than I appear.”

“You needn’t be such a boy,” Chisa says, not without a hint of accusation, “Your injuries are quite serious, Naegi-kun. You are still unstable, you could even be teetering on the edge of death, and if my indiscretion leaves you-”

“Yukizome-san?”

Miaya cuts in without thinking nor caring what the two of them are up to. She pulls back the curtain without hesitation, putting a war-ravaged Kyoko on full view. Both Chisa and Makoto straighten up immediately… although the latter immediately winces in pain and sinks back down into his bed not long after.

“The Empress has asked to see Naegi-kun.”

Kyoko hopes she does not wince rom how bluntly Miaya delivers the message. It is not as if the other soldiers and nurses in the area are lacking in ears. As much as people love the royal family, it is not as if rumours about them are not the subject of idle gossip. She’d rather such things not be spread, especially right now, when there are more important things to contend with.

“O-Of course!” Chisa squeaks, nodding as Kyoko steps into the small area. She definitely seems more rigid than she was a moment ago, but her smile lingers. “Is there something I can do for you, your Imperial Majesty?”

Kyoko moves to Makoto’s bedside, pretending not to notice that he watches her do so. She’s only been in here a few minutes, but it certainly feels like everyone is watching and knows her business. What a strange emotion to be feeling at a time where things are still rather dire.

“If Naegi-kun is in reasonable enough condition, I was wondering if I might have a moment alone with him?”

Chisa looks from Kyoko to Makoto and then back again, swallowing thickly. No one could blame her for being reluctant to leave a patient she was just insisting upon watching, but when she sees the look in Kyoko’s eye when she looks at him… well, she fails to say anything but yes.

“I could spare a few minutes away. I suppose Munakata-kun will want my presence.”

“Thank you. I will be sure to get you if I notice him struggling.”

With a grateful nod, Kyoko says nothing else to Chisa nor Miaya as they take their leave, leaving her alone with the man who nearly gave his life to support her.

It is just the two of them alone now, and though she fought so hard to get to this moment, it is hard to know what to say. The words build up within her like the incoming eruption of a volcano, yet they all seem to swirl together in a way that makes them feel impossible to properly produce. There is so much affection in his eyes when he looks up at her that she doesn’t even know where to go, or how she can say what she wants to say without sounding bizarre. In the end, the first words she settles on are:

“I’m so sorry.”

For whatever reason, they make Makoto chuckle – and then grimace again at the searing pain that rips through his side. “What are you sorry for?”

“That you were hurt,” she says, her voice then lowering into a whisper, “That you could have gotten killed.”

That you still could die without ever seeing your younger sister again and being able to say good-bye. That you still could die without me ever saying everything that you deserved to hear. That I could say it all and still be too late.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be okay.”

She clenches her teeth, finding it hard to look at him in this state. “You have no proof of that.”

He shrugs a little, still trying to maintain that same, easy grin he’s been comforting her with since she walked in. She both loves it and wants it off his face as soon as possible. “Maybe not… but I can feel it.”

She purses her lips, clearly not as amused by this situation as he seems to be. Although maybe she should cut him some slack, she thinks. For all she knows, he could be pumped full of Seiko’s drugs to help him deal with the pain.

“What, in the gigantic gash in your side?”

He shakes his head, still almost giddy, as if his eyes are not half-lidded and every movement of his limbs does not seem to make them tremble. “In the part of me that has hope. In my fire. I have no intention of dying yet. Not when you did everything you could to save my life.”

His expression turns serious suddenly.

“I owe you everything for that. Thank you.”

“You owe me nothing. It is my job as your Empress to protect you. On and off the battlefield,” she pauses for another quick moment, finally feeling that accursed heat begin to rise in her cheeks, “… And as your friend, I owed it to you to save your life.”

It’s hard not to notice Makoto’s attempts to keep his brows from furrowing at the word friend. Somehow that makes her blush even more. Surely he could not be feeling the same as she, could he? It seems a bit absurd to think.

“Still, you’re… more important than me-”

“No one is more important than you,” she interjects, “Especially not to me.”

He blinks, slowly, and his voice is lowered just to the tone of a whisper the next time he speaks. “What are you saying, milady?”

I’d think a man as clever as you would know, she almost blurts out, but catches her tongue before she can get too far. It will do her no good in romantic endeavours to be sharp – although if experience has taught her anything, it seems as if Makoto might actually be attracted to that. Still, it is best to be gentle with him while he is in such a fragile state, even if that must extend to her words as well.

“You…” She stops, unsure of how to phrase this. She’s never been masterful with her words, with getting things exactly right, or with expressing her emotions exactly as she feels them. It’s even harder when she has to lower voice and make sure that she doesn’t say it too loud, let it reach the wrong ears. For all that Koichi told her that a woman symbolizes perfection, she is not so sure she is it right now. But she’s willing to be the closest that she can be for Makoto’s sake. “You mean a great deal to me, Naegi-kun. More than I think you know.”

He raises his eyebrows, but says nothing. His desire to let her speak is written all over his face.

“My saving you, it… I… I think my advisors will surely lose their sanity when they find out that it happened. My whole life, I have been told to consider myself above others when it comes to matters of life and death. They told me that I could not so easily be replaced. But when that commander, Kamukura Izuru… When he nearly slayed you…”

She swallows.

“I found myself affronted with the knowledge that if I lost you right then and there, I would never be able to replace you. You are more than just a subject or a soldier to me. And I know perhaps that it’s early to say this, given that perhaps you and I do not know each other as well as some others might, but… I have a particular fondness for you that I cannot explain – one that I do not feel for anyone else, and have never felt before.”

“Are you saying that you…”

“Yes.” She nods. “Yes, I am.”

“But what about your station?”

“What about my station?”

“Y-You’re the Empress. Shouldn’t you be with someone of royal descent?”

“I’m the Empress, Naegi-kun. My bloodline is chosen by the gods. If I have had to go through this war and met you, then I know that they have brought us together to do right by me. That is how I see it.”

Makoto’s face reddens into a cute blush of his own, his eyes darting away from her as if to process this whole thing. Part of her begins to worry about this reaction, for he has not yet said that he returns her feelings. What if he feels as if he cannot reject her because of her power? Does he feel indebted to her because she saved his life? She shifts uncomfortably, praying that this is not the case.

“Are you alright?” She asks quietly.

“Yes. Great, really, I just…” He shakes his head, finally letting his eyes lock onto hers once more. “I never dreamed we would feel the same way.”

Now it’s Kyoko’s turn to fall into shock, a sharp heat, one more intense than any of the others she has felt so far, spreading across her cheeks and nose. “You mean…?”

He nods. “I do.”

The two of them pause awkwardly, not really sure what to say.

“So what do we do now?”

“I think… we would usually kiss?”

Kyoko gets up to go over to him, but he brings her to a halt with a lift of the hand.

“Hold on. If I’m going to get through this injury, I’ll need something to live for. This seems like a pretty good thing.”

And once again, that very natural laughter that comes in each other’s company strikes again.

#danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #naegiri2022 #(yes i'm still tagging it that even tho i'm late af)#naegiri #naegi makoto #kirigiri kyoko #makoto naegi #kyoko kirigiri #kirigiri kyouko #kyouko kirigiri #naegi x kirigiri

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