#it's just sometimes rough to cut down dialogue n stuff to make it have enough exposition but not just be a lore dump the whole time yk?

[peter3sgf]

an annoying type of romantic

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader 

Word Count: about 2.2k

Warnings: None 

Summary: You have a crush on someone, and it’s an annoying type of romantic.

A/N: Written for @upsidedownparker ‘s 3K Writing Challenge! I had the dialogue prompt “You have no idea what you do to me.” 

"I want to tell him," you said. "No, I'm definitely going to." Instantly your friend M.J.'s demeanor changed. You heard the bed springs squeak as she shifted her weight to lean towards you. "Parker?" You smiled nervously. "Yeah." If you were being truthful, it was about time. M.J. was silent for a while. You knew she wasn't the best person to talk about feelings and stuff with, but she was important to you. Even if she had been a little snarky about you liking the geeky boy. You watched her, unsure.  "You don't have to say anything," you said. That broke the tension- an unpleasant balloon popped. M.J. broke out into a grin, and the two of you laughed, not because of anything particularly funny but because of this... shared knowing of each other. "O.K.," she said. And after a moment she wrapped her arms around you gawkily- a hug. It was things like this you both could do outside of school. You returned her embrace and whispered your thanks. Monday was announced with the ring of the schoolbell. Sometimes it was just hard to believe you had to struggle with another grueling week until you were actually present in the halls that smelled too much like lemon cleaning polish. First period dragged by. You managed to not glance at the clock every ten seconds by thinking of the weekend; you couldn't have asked for a more supportive friend. M.J. had been very encouraging, to you, but also about what you were going to do. Read: your confession to Peter Parker. He probably wouldn't expect it. He made things so difficult sometimes with his cluelessness. You had to be direct, while retaining some dignity. You and M.J. had came up with a rough idea of Peter's class schedule over the weekend, which was posted to your math notebook, figuratively and literally weighing you down all day with the thought of what to do. It would be easy to tell him at lunch, M.J. had texted last night, or rather, late into the morning. Usually you would be groggy in the mornings after hours of not sleeping, but the jittery feeling in your stomach fueled you with questionable energy. M.J. never seemed to be tired. But her lack of sleep was a problem for later. I don't want to risk someone overhearing, you had texted back.

The last of first period sped by, and then the next until finally the release of the lunch bell. "As soon as I fell for him, I stopped being a functional human being," you complained to M.J. whilst walking to lunch. "He drives me insane." "Nah, you were always like this," M.J. teased. The two of you sat down at the usual table- one no one remotely popular gravitated to. You were uncomfortably aware of who sat at the same table as the two of you, so you changed the subject. "Did you find a partner for the history project yet?" you asked. M.J. rose her voice to combat against the heavy chatter of the other teens. "Yeah." She nodded, and you sighed. "I wish I could have been your partner!" you said. "But we don't have any classes together." "Did you find a partner yet?" M.J. said. "Oh... No," you admitted. "But I have until Friday to find one." "Peter doesn't have a partner!" another voice interjected quickly. You and M.J. turned your heads in sync to the source. It was Ned (of course?) beside a red-faced Peter Parker. "Ned," he hissed. "You-" Ned said, looking pointedly at his friend, "he- doesn't have a partner." "Well... I don't," Peter said. "y/n, do you want to work together, then?" You swore you could feel the smug gaze of M.J. "That sou-sounds good," you answered shakily. "Cool. Sounds... good." Peter turned away back to Ned. Slowly you moved back to your original position facing M.J. "So he asked you out on a date-during lunch," she whispered with a triumphant smile. "That's n-" You were cut off by the ever ear-piercing bell. Your class following lunch  was on the other side of campus, so you assembled your belongings and dashed from the lunch table. "This isn't done!" you called back. It was done. You forgot to pursue the topic after getting home, struggling to complete homework, and collapsing on your bed. You turned onto your side and lazily dealt with your phone's onslaught of notifications. Then you remembered Peter. Peter... Partner? M!! you texted. Your finger lingered over the send icon as you considered what to type. What do I do? Your godsend of a friend's message appeared instantly. Parker again? Yeah... How do you put up with me? I'm glad you acknowledge how hard it is, M.J.'s reply said, and you imagined her wry chuckle. What's going on? Besides you being his partner? That's exactly it. And I don't know what to do. What if I make it weird? You could tell him during your date. NO!! BIG No!  The thought of it was unnerving. It would definitely be best to tell him after the project... so you could avoid him, if need be. Just in case. You could bump into him after school. He's usually at the sandwich shop. How do you know that? Just something I observed. Maybe it was just something M.J. observed, but it could be some good information. Thx! It was Tuesday- lunchtime, specifically. You got up to leave to M.J.'s class, falling in line with the hungry animals on their way to lunch. "y/n!" someone said. Am I imagining his voice now? Why am I so- "y/n," Peter's voice said again. You felt a tap on your shoulder. 

"Peter! You don't usually come this way," you said. You would know. "I was in the computer lab," he explained quickly. "I just wanted to ask about our project." "Right," you said. "It's a small one, so we can probably do it in a day." It was naive to think he would talk to you for any other reason. "So, where should we meet up?" he asked. "My place or yours?" Fiery blushes formed on your cheeks. "My house is fine." "Okay, do you want to give me your ad-" You noticed M.J. standing outside her classroom, and then Peter noticing her. "Actually! I can just text you. Can I write my-um-where?" Without thinking you held out your palm. Peter smoothly reached to place his hand under yours. It was warm and soft... He placed the marker pen he had fished out of his backpack in his other hand, and you felt the brush of his skin as he gently printed his number. It barely pricked. When he was done with the last digit he gave you a shy smile and hurried away. You looked down at his number. If you wanted you could text him how you felt, right now! He had written his number small and neatly, and you couldn't help but be a little biased in your thinking that it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

You almost didn't comprehend what happened. It was over so quickly. But you held onto the moment for the rest of the day, like a shining distraction.

Once you got home, the two of you arranged to meet at your house on Thursday. The middle weekday passed astonishingly fast... you couldn't stop thinking about Peter coming over, and then suddenly, it was the day. If your parents had seen the way you were cleaning, they might have cried and proclaimed their devotion to the heavens. You ran a comb through your hair for a few minutes as you waited for Peter. Your cell buzzed, and you dropped the comb for it. A message from M.J. : y/n... Don't embarrass yourself. You got this! Or something. A faint noise echoed from the door. Ah. The doorbell, of course. He was here. You unlatched the door to see him. "Hey, y/n," Peter said. You almost couldn't reply. You had watched him too often during school hours, and he was always nervous, and very avoiding of people he didn't know. Here he looked looser and more comfortable with himself, even though he still met your eyes shyly. Was he like this outside of school...? Even his hair was less neat and more everywhere. That was the most attractive- "Nice to have you here," you said with a stiff smile. "My room is over here. I wanted to work in the kitchen, but there's some stuff there..." "No problem," Peter said, following you. He was like a puppy, you realized. Adorable. "I wanted to see your room, anyways." M.J.! you wanted to scream. What is that supposed to mean?! It means he's curious about your room, you imagined M.J. saying. You hesitantly opened your room door. "Oh, y/n..." Peter said, smiling. "Your room is so cute!" "What do you mean by cute?" you laughed nervously. "Thank you, anyways. Sit anywhere." Peter plopped onto the floor, subsequently arranging his legs into criss cross applesauce. "This is good." "Are you sure that's fine? I have chairs. You don't need to sit on the floor..." "Don't worry about me, y/n!" Peter said, as if he were a kid talking to a grown-up. "I'm responsible enough to sit here." You stifled laughter. "Cool. Well, what did you want to do for our title..?" "Something with a pun," Peter said promptly. “Or… a Vine reference!”

Wait, what? The hours blurred into one another. You were typing on your laptop, still sitting on the bed. You tried to keep a consistent train of thought, but you were frequently interrupted by the crush perched a few feet away from you on the floor, marking a sheet of poster paper. Skrit skrit skri- The sound of Peter's pencil ceased, and you sheepishly remembered that you were supposed to be typing, but the hush broke with a soft indent of pillows and exhale. "Okay, you're right. This is a lot better." You turned and Peter was there, bright brown eyes and curly hair. "Wha-? Don't tease me, Parker," you mumbled. "y/n, how am I teasing you?" he said. "How'd you even hear that?" you said, dodging Peter's question. "I have... good ears," Peter said lamely. "Okay, you can sit here then," you said, indicating the spot next to the stack of papers leaning against you. Peter paused, and you heard shuffling. You attempted to focus on your work, but couldn't help but notice that Peter was sitting right next to you. "Peter! The papers!" "Oh-oh, I moved them," Peter said. "Don't worry!" "Why'd you want to sit here, anyways..." This boy was giving you a million heart attacks. He was warm and cute and very close to you. "I need the references," Peter said smartly. "Alright then. Let me know if you need help." The room resumed to the sounds of work. A few heart accelerating times he peeked over your shoulder to see the screen, but you tried to ignore that. You noticed the time. "Oh. It's getting late." Your room seemed to be basked in an uncolourful grey, illuminated by the blue-tinted light from your laptop. "We're almost done!" Peter said. "Yeah!" you said happily. "It's kinda dark, so I'll get the light and we can finish up." "It's okay, I'll get it." Peter got up and flicked the switch. "I'm closer." With the light on, you suddenly realized how close you had been sitting to him. You wanted to be anyone else right now... except you did like being here, and working with him. Basically, it's all a very convoluted mess that you don't know how you want to clean up.

"This is the homestretch," Peter said, and he sat next to you again. It was a nice feeling, something you would like to get used to. Work remained steady. Thirty minutes had elapsed when you had finished. "Oh my gosh, we're done..." you sighed, flopping onto your bed. If you weren't so hungry you would sleep then and there. Flop. A pillow fell onto your face as Peter joined you on the bed. "Mmmmn... What are you trying to do here, Peter?" you asked tiredly, pulling off the pillow. "Sleep, of course!" he said. He closed his eyes and turned away. "Peter, you can sleep at your own place." "But your room is so comfortable and cute, y/n!" "What do you mean by that, again?" you asked. "Well... Your room really reminds me of you, so of course it's cute! Alert, you bolted up. "Peter, what?" "You're cute, y/n," Peter said, slowly rising. "And smart and funny and nice... I'm really not normal around you." You wanted to laugh so badly. "You have no idea what you do to me. You're so weirdly charming all the time! Without trying!" You were letting your emotions run ahead, but you were too confused to care. You tossed a pillow at him, which he caught. 

“Those are all accidents!” Peter argued. “Lucky mistakes. I mess things up all the time.”

“No, you don’t,” you said. “You could never.”

“So do you like me?” Peter asked.

In that moment you couldn’t find a way out. You were still and everything was so much more serious than it actually was, as he looked at you and you met his gaze. And then it was over without you only vaguely remembering what you had said. 

“You make me such a mess sometimes, Peter,” you said. “I like you so much.”

“And I like you so much, too...” Peter said, with an ear to ear smile, and maybe he wasn’t the most popular or attractive but his sunshine filled grin was easily perfect. He was, at that moment, a million things to you. “y/n...”

“Yeah, Peter?”

He reached down for the papers, and you instinctively moved your hand to get them for him. Instead he took your hand and set it in his again. He looked at the faded phone number marked on your skin. Slowly he smiled and tilted down to softly kiss your wrist under his number. Exactly how many romances has this boy watched? He was annoyingly sort of romantic. "You're such a dork," you decided. "I saved your phone number, though, so there's no getting rid of me." "Why in the world would I do that?" • end •

Tags: @nelapuppy @misslady2426

[youngmrkusuma]

The Naekawa Project - Part 8: Lasting Impressions

Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15139919

Summary: In which Syo and Naegi meet for the first time. (Setting: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair)

AO3 Notes: Of the story subjects I’ve tackled so far, this one in particular has been the most requested by my readers. Since ‘Genocider Syo’s Excellent Adventure’ was pretty well-received, I felt a bit more confident in trying to write for everyone’s favourite serial killer again.

Speaking of which, this piece takes place after part 3 and before part 6. I am terribly sorry that the timeline for this series is so skewed. I didn’t plan any of this beforehand, you see. I hope you can bear with me. Just pretend like you’re watching Memento or something.

Features include: The longest dialogue sequence(s) I’ve ever had to write, dear God.

There was something strangely familiar about Naegi’s room.

That was the first thing that came to mind, the moment Fukawa stepped inside. Very odd indeed, since she had never actually set foot in here before. And, at the beginning, she had dismissed it as a mistake of some kind; Naegi’s room was very much like something you’d expect from the average person; a small work desk, a thin-curtained window, a cramped bookshelf, with no posters on the wall or clothes left lying carelessly on the ground. So maybe that sense of Déjà Vu came from having seen something like it in her mind’s eye, or from TV, or a book or something.

Yet that sense of familiarity only became stronger as she went further inside, carrying with her a stack of study notes and the day’s homework under arm. It deepened and grew until she was almost completely certain that, somehow – in spite of what logic denoted – this wasn’t just her imagination playing tricks on her.

She had been here before.

“I’ve been here before,” she said.

Naegi – lying in bed with a slowly receding fever – didn’t seem the least bit surprised by this information. Merely puzzled. “Um, yeah,” he said, his voice small and weak. “You kinda have. Sort of. It happened like… a year ago, I think?” He stopped to cough, covering his mouth. “Of course, you weren’t exactly yourself at the time…”

All at once, Fukawa was terribly confused. “A y-year ago?” She eyed her surroundings. “But… that can’t b-be right. You hadn’t even asked me o-out back then. How could I ha–”

A swatch of memory came to her, the second her gaze came to rest at his window. Fukawa hadn’t paid it much attention initially – hadn’t so much as touched it the whole time she was here – and yet somehow, she knew; it slid open smoothly and quietly, as long as you didn’t use too much force. A sturdy pipe ran along the side of it, all the way down to the ground floor. It was strong enough to support the weight of someone climbing it. And with something long and thin, you could jimmy the window’s lock right out of place…

Something long and thin.

Like a pair of scissors.

“…Syo?” Her eyes grew wide.

Her boyfriend nodded, smiling a little.

This was by no means the only time something like this had ever happened. By and large, hers and Syo’s memories were kept separate (Which, taking into account all of the vile repugnant things her other half got up to, was quite a mercy). But sometimes, there were tiny fragments that slipped through. And Fukawa would recall things she had never experienced.

“You know, we did talk about this before,” Naegi said. “Don’t you remember?”

Come to think of it, they actually did. Though it felt like a lifetime ago.

“I don’t think I went into the details, though,” he continued. “Didn’t Syo ever tell you about it?”

“N-no.” Her hands balled into fists. “S-She didn’t even think to mention it, that miserable bitch.” Then a wild thought occurred to Fukawa, turning her cheeks red. “Wait a sec, s-she came into your room! Don’t t-tell me that you and she–”

“No, no!” He cut her off, laughing a little. He had grown to expect this by now, it seemed. “Nothing like that. Geez, keep your mind out of the gutter. All she did was talk to me.”

“…T-Talk?”

“Yeah. She said she was curious about me or something.” He started to sit up in bed, wincing. Immediately, Fukawa was at his side, gently pushing him back down. Even with the AC on full blast, and with him apparently in nothing but a tank top and shorts, his skin was still very warm to touch.

Stomach flu, Naegi’s mother had explained, before Fukawa came up here. He’ll be fine in a day or two, dear. As long as he gets some rest.

“You’re s-supposed to be resting, dummy,” she chided.

“Sorry.” He sank back into his pillow. There was a washbasin on the stand next to his bed, half filled with cold water and a soaked cloth. She grabbed the cloth, wrung it twice and lay it over his forehead.

“…So… then, that w-was how you found out about her?” She asked. “W-when she came here?”

“Mm-hm,” he continued. “Scared the hell out of me at first, to be honest. Here’s how it happened–”

*

Spring of 2015. Two hours past midnight.

Busting into the Naegi residence hadn’t been anywhere near as fun as Syo would have liked. Compared to every other hunt she had gone out on, this was too damn easy! It was pretty insulting and – in a strange sort of way – almost embarrassing. Like being made to use a kiddie tricycle after years of professional bike racing. Half the entertainment of these escapades was in the challenge; having to move fast while remaining unseen… having to plan an escape route in case things went south… chasing down cuties when they tried to make a run for it…

There was none of that here. No witnesses to look out for, no getaway options to take note of, no nothing! Just a bit of legwork to get up to that window and that was that. Lame. Though, to be fair, maybe Syo should have expected this, since she wasn’t out for blood this time (though she came armed all the same). No, this was just a little excursion. Meant to answer two burning questions.

Who was Tou-chan’s latest crush, and what did she see in him?

Little Miss Gloomy had made great mention of him many times in her diary. Almost as much as she wrote about Byakuya-sama, in fact. Initially, it was nothing flattering – mainly stuff about how he kept talking to her at school and acted nice to her. She had called him nosy. She had called him irritating. She had whined about how he wouldn’t just leave her alone (all while also complaining about how alone she was). In one particularly spiteful entry on a very rough day, she called him a blood-sucking sycophant.

And then things began to change. She wrote about how he was different from her other classmates. She wrote about how surprisingly kind he was. She began expressing doubts about whether or not he was doing this to trick her. And then one day she wrote – happily – that he had called her his friend. Not that he’d want to be anything more than that, she made sure to include after.

Syo had rolled her eyes reading it. Tou-chan could act all tsun-tsun if she wanted, but Syo wasn’t fooled. And she didn’t need to share feelings with her to know. Whoever this Makoto Naegi was, Touko was falling for him. Falling harder than she had for almost anyone else. There was only one other boy she had gotten the hots for this badly, except that didn’t end well, did it?

Up until this point, Byakuya-sama was the only thing that had occupied her thoughts. Now, he had been dethroned by someone else, though Touko wouldn’t admit it to herself.

So! Who was this wonderful, magnificent specimen that had somehow managed to snatch her gaze away from her beloved White Knight? Was he handsome? Sexy?? He had to be. Byakuya-sama was one glorious hunk of a man; this new contender had to be at least as good-looking, right?

Syo licked her lips, slipping in through the window. She couldn’t wait to find out.

Nothing about his room at a glance suggested he was anything special. And it wasn’t like this place was a mansion, so this guy probably wasn’t rich (His family might have bothered with sturdier locks, otherwise. Seriously; any jackass with the right tools could have broken in here if they wanted to). None of Tou-chan’s diary entries gave any clue about what drew her to him, except that he was real sweet on her. Maybe if she had a closer look…

She slinked over to his bedside, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. There was a penlight in her pocket, but she wasn’t about to start shining that into his face like some fucking moron. That would wake him up for sure, and she couldn’t have that. Ideally, this was just going to be a quick recon. Look but don’t touch. She moved in closer for a better view.

Messy, hazel-brown hair. Soft, delicate features. Judging by the form beneath his blanket, he wasn’t very tall or athletic either. She observed him for about a minute more, then quietly sighed.

This was the guy Tou-chan was falling for? Syo couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Yeah, he was kind of cute, in that huggable teddy bear sort of way, but honestly? He looked really plain. Not bad-looking, of course, but still. He was certainly not attractive enough to compare with Byakuya-sama. Hell, he didn’t even hold up that well compared to any of Syo’s previous conquests.

She closed her eyes and thought about doing him nice and slow in her standard fashion, hands drifting to her skirt. She imagined him with an expression of pure agony on his face. Imagined what it would feel like to plunge a blade deep into his flesh. Imagined burying her arms elbow-deep into all that blood and guts, then leaving it all for his parents to find. It just didn’t do it for her.

As a matter of fact, she found the idea… repulsive. Not in a physical sense, but an emotional one. Somehow, she didn’t want to hurt him. Not even a little.

A smile crossed her lips. Tou-chan must have cared about him very much then. Who’d have guessed?

Then again, if they were already friends, that made sense. Gloomy didn’t have a lot of those.

Well, either way, Syo wasn’t about to learn any more about him by standing there, gawking like a fish. Her attention turned to his bookshelf as she began to grin. Kind-hearted or not, Mako-chan over here was most definitely a growing boy. And all growing boys had, well… interests. Whether it was porno-mags or ero-doujins, the back of one’s bookshelf was more often than not a safe haven for such scandalous materials. At least, that was how it always happened in manga. Wouldn’t it have been amusing indeed if she found something naughty back there? Mm-mmm. You could learn a lot about a man from his taste in smut. She pulled out the penlight from her pocket and started inspecting.

And here came another disappointment. The shelf was flush against the wall. No space behind it to hide anything. The contents of the shelf were barely worth mentioning either. Textbooks, notepads, a series of YA novels… She got a bit excited when she saw manga, but it was just the standard Shonen Jump stuff. Boring. Two of Gloomy’s bestsellers were there, but she didn’t give a crap about that (Tou-chan would probably have been delighted at this information, she supposed).

“The hell, this guy’s as basic as a piece of cardboard,” she whispered aloud. What a let-down. Couldn’t there be at least something to make this trip entertaining? She was getting bored out of her skull.

His desk was next. None of the drawers were locked, and there was nothing juicy inside. Double boring. This guy was a total normie, maybe even more so than other normies. Like one of those Buddhist Koans; so normal that he wasn’t.

Heh. Guess that technically counted as something interesting.

In any case, the wardrobe was the only thing left that she hadn’t explored. Her expectations were low by this point. After everything else, it seemed unlikely that she’d find something in there worth her–

She heard the creak of bedsprings. A rustle of fabric. And the flicker of a lamp.

“Wh… Who’s there?”

Her instincts were immediate. Barely a second had gone by before she was across the room, her hand around the boy Naegi’s mouth and the blade of her scissors at his neck. Damn it, this had gone sideways in record time. She had gotten careless.

“Mhfm!!” He went rigid.

“Shh…” she crooned softly. “Not a sound, sweetie. I’d hate to make a mess out of you when we’ve only just met.” She suppressed the urge to cackle with a vicious grin.

Naegi’s eyes went wide. Now here was something remarkable! Those eyes of his were rather pretty. Not quite enough to make him stand out, perhaps, but they did make her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You could get lost in all that green. Tou-chan’s attraction to him was starting to make a bit more sense.

More importantly, though, this was trouble. He had seen her. And unfortunately for him, the most practical solution to the problem, like it or not, was for her to slit his throat and disappear. So far, there were no other witnesses. This house was completely silent, meaning that they were the only ones here awake. No one would ever know it was her. Except for Touko, of course.

But Syo wasn’t about to do that. She didn’t want to.

So maybe it was best to appeal to his good nature instead. Convince him not to say a word. And possibly learn a little something about Makoto while she was at it.

“I’m gonna take my hand away now,” she said. “Keep your voice down and you won’t get hurt. Understand?”

He blinked twice, then nodded slowly.

“Good boy.” Syo removed her hand but held the blade steady. By now, Naegi’s expression was no longer one of shock, but recognition.

“…Fukawa… san?”

“Close, but no cigar, pipsqueak.” She said, grinning wider. “She’s a mutual acquaintance, though.”

Then came confusion. And fear. “Mutual… acquaintance? What is all this? Who are you? What do you want??” Poor boy looked about ready to faint.

“No need to get antsy now, I just wanna chat.”

“…Chat?”

“Chat.” She lowered the blade slightly, just enough to give him some breathing space. “A little birdy told me that you and Tou-chan have been getting real close lately.”

Relief. His fingers drifted to his neck where her scissors had been, and he relaxed a little.

“Yeah. We have,” he said. “At least I think we have. Honestly, it’s so hard to tell with her…”

He tensed up suddenly and there was anger. “Wait a minute, what the hell is going on here? What have you done with her??”

“Whoa, whoa,” she brought the scissor blade up again, laughing. “Settle down, hero.” He backed down, but the anger stayed. That was genuine concern from him. What a guy! Thinking more about Tou-chan than he was about himself. Syo had to admit; that was kinda hot.

“She’s perfectly fine,” she said. “Can’t you tell? You’re looking right at her.”

There was confusion again. “Wha…?”

“Pretty slow, aren’t ya? That’s okay; I’ll explain it to you. Without any big words.” She giggled. “Tou-chan and I are roommates,” she poked at her temple, “up here. And she isn’t in right now. Get the picture?”

He stared at her uncomprehendingly for a few seconds, then understood.

“D.I.D,” he said. “You’re her split personality.”

“Correctamundo. And you’re all she’s been thinking about recently. Aren’t you flattered?”

This must have been a lot to take in for someone who had only just woken up from sleep. Especially with a beautiful, saucy murderess distracting you with her feminine charms. Syo could almost hear the cogs in Naegi’s mind, turning slowly. Shaking off cobwebs and rust. Trying to piece everything together. She waited a few moments for him to gather his thoughts.

“What do you mean by ‘thinking about me’?”

She giggled again. “What do you think I mean, sweetie?”

Naegi’s cheeks slowly turned red as he tried to speak and faltered. It took him three attempts before he could actually say something.

“N-no… that can’t be right,” he rambled. “I mean, there’s no way! She’s already… but then again, maybe… I…” A bashful smile crept across his face. He seemed to have forgotten that a stranger had just broken into his house and started threatening him.

“Fukawa-san… likes me?”

“She sure does, lover boy. Of course, knowing her, she probably doesn’t realise it yet.”

Syo watched as the cogs turned again. Creek. Creek.

“Well… then, how do you know?” He asked. “Maybe you’ve made a mistake.”

“Uh, because we’re roommates?” She replied, as if it should have been obvious. “Here’s how it works, Mako-chan. Can I call you Mako-chan? Sure, I can. Okay, so! Tou-chan and I don’t share memories – All girls need to keep their secrets, you see – but her feelings come through to me all the time. Don’t know why that is, but basically, I know exactly how Little Miss Gloomy feels about the people around her.”

“And you…” she said, “boy oh boy, you… Helping her out when she drops her stuff, chatting it up with her like she isn’t a complete bore, giving her pep talks when she’s down… You’re her newest Prince Charming! Which brings me to my next point.”

Her face hardened. “What’s your game, kid? What are you trying to pull?”

“Pull?”

“Tou-chan’s diary says she told you about her past. No one’s ever chummy with her unless they want something.” Her scissors pressed into the underside of his chin. “Which is it for you? A prank? Lost bet? A desperate, easy lay–”

“It’s not like that!” He snapped. The anger had returned. “I would never, ever do anything like that to her.” Then his tone softened, becoming concerned. “Is that what she still believes? That I’m trying to hurt her?”

Syo studied him for several seconds, her gaze staying locked with his. Neither of them looked away.

Then she eased up, smiling.

“No,” she said. “Tou-chan doesn’t believe that, Ma-kun. And neither do I.” She put the scissors away for good, back into the sling pouch she kept on her thigh. “Guys tend to spill their guts pretty quick whenever I start squeezing. As far as I can tell, you’re telling the truth.” All at once, the tension in the room had disappeared. Naegi had calmed down, though he did still seem wary of her.

“I don’t get it, though,” she said. “If it isn’t for kicks and it isn’t for her body, then what are you hanging out with frumpy old Tou-chan for? Don’t you know there’re less lamer people you could be spending your time with?”

“Fukawa-san isn’t lame!” He pouted. “Her writing is incredible. She’s so talented…” his eyes became starry. “She’s really not that bad once you get to know her.”

“Uh, objection! I know her better than you, Ma-kun, and she really is that bad. She’s bland, she’s boring…”

“No, she’s not!”

“Yes, she is!”

“No, she’s not!” He folded his arms. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be a part of her or something? You’re just insulting yourself at this point.”

“Pfft,” she waved her hand dismissively. “Wrong again! I happen to be the only part of her that’s cool, sweetie. You should be grateful that you got to meet me. Anyway, we’re getting way off topic. Why’d you end up being all buddy-buddy with her?”

“Why?” Naegi appeared to ponder before answering. His expression became sad and forlorn.

“Because she looked like she needed a friend.” He said, quietly. “Everyone deserves a friend.”

“Aha! So, it’s pity?”

“No!” His voice had gotten loud. He brought it back down. “I mean, fine, yeah. In the beginning, that’s what it was. I felt bad for her. She always seemed so lonely. But things are different now.”

“Hmm? How so?”

“I’m friends with her because I like being around her,” he said. “I like seeing her smile. I like seeing her laugh. You might think she’s lame, but I think she’s amazing. I’ve never met anyone like her.”

Syo let out an amused huff. This boy really was like Tou-chan had described in her diary. A bit soft in the head, perhaps (you’d need to be if you could put up with someone like her), but nice. Nicer than her diary said, even. And he wasn’t faking it. For the first time in God knows how long, Touko had finally met someone who was genuinely good to her. There was only one thing left to find out.

“And how do you feel about her crushing on you?”

“Eeh?” He was blushing again. “…Um, before I answer–”

“Assume that I’m right,” she said. “How do you feel?”

Naegi looked about ready to die from embarrassment. “I… um, well… uh.” He fell silent for a minute or so.

“…How long has she felt this way?”

“Tsk, rude! Answering a question with a question.” Syo was clearly enjoying this. “Hard to say for sure. It probably wasn’t a specific moment, but it might have been when you started calling her your friend.”

Naegi’s eyes widened. “That was months ago!” Surprise turned to sympathy. “That means that… this whole time… Fukawa-san…” He bit his lip. “I never thought I stood a chance. If I had known sooner, I would have asked her out by now.”

“So that’s your answer.”

“Y-Yeah.” His blush got deeper. “I mean, she’s always been cute. And if she wouldn’t mind having me…”

“Heh, of course she’s cute, sugar. Just look at who she’s sharing a body with!” She ran a hand along her braids and tossed them. “Anyway, what are you going to do now?”

“Ask her out, I suppose.” He let out a nervous laugh. “God, I’ve got no idea how to even start.” An idea came into his head. “Hey, you know everything about her, right? Couldn’t you lend me a h–”

“Nope!” She chuckled, before clapping his shoulder. “Sorry, hero. That’d be cheating. If it’s ever going to mean anything, you’re gonna have to woo her all by yourself, fair and square. Besides! Aren’t you besties with her? Just go talk to her or something.”

He made as if to protest, then decided against it. “…Yeah. You might be right about that.” He smiled at her. “Thanks for telling me. I don’t think I would have worked it out for myself if you hadn’t. Say, you didn’t come all the way out here just to tell me that, did you?”

“Hmm? Nah.” She smiled back. “I came here to learn all about you, Mako-chan!” She told him about Fukawa’s diary.

“…and so I said to myself, woowie! This guy must be a real hottie if he could get her over Byakuya-sama!” She chirruped. “Course, you turned out to be a huge let-down in the looks department.”

“Hey!”

“Oh, you ought to be grateful for that, Ma-kun. Trust me.” She winked at him. “Anyway, that reminds me; I need a tinny-tiny favour from you.”

“What’s that?”

She put a finger to her lip. “Keep this little encounter of ours a secret, yeah? You can tell Tou-chan about it if you want, but no one else. Things might get… troublesome for both her and me if people know I exist. Don’t get any clever ideas about talking to some Doctor to get us a psych-eval, either.”

“Um…” Naegi scratched the back of his head. “No offense, but wouldn’t that be for the best? I mean, D.I.D is a very severe condition. It can’t be healthy for either of you to live like this.”

Cheeky little monkey. He’d been thinking that after all. Looks like Syo was going to have to scare the notion out of him. Her grin became vicious once more.

“You never did ask me my name, did you, Mako-chi?” She said. “That’s some pretty bad manners, you know?”

A minute later and the tension had returned, stronger than ever. Naegi’s cheeks were completely ashen.

“You… y-you’re…”

“That’s right, sugar. I am. Breathe a word of this to anyone, and who knows what would happen? The police might come knocking at my door, and Gloomy’s life might become that much gloomier. She might end up in a padded cell. Or Jail. Or worse, community service! You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

Timidly: “N-no…”

“No,” She said, sombrely. “You wouldn’t. That’s because you’re a good boy, aren’t you, Mako-chi? All the other boys Gloomy fell for, they didn’t have much else going for them other than their looks, but you’re different. You really do care about her, don’t you?”

He said nothing.

“Sure you do. You’re just too shy to admit it.” Her tone turned jovial. “Oh, don’t look so glum! I don’t kill anymore, if it really bothers you that much.”

He blinked. “You don’t?”

“Nope! I’m on hiatus! Sort of. Been that way for more than a year now. Tell you what, Ma-kun. If we ever meet again, I’ll give you a more detailed explanation.” She stretched her arms out like a cat and yawned. “For now, it’s getting late and I need my beauty sleep. I’ll leave you with one last bit of advice.”

She looked at him affectionately. “Tou-chan would probably start going on about how risky it is for you to be around her if you talk to her about tonight. All you have to know for now is that I’ve got no intention of hurting you. Tell her that. If she doesn’t believe you, ask her to hit me up. I’ll set the record straight.” It’d be the exact same deal as with Byakuya-sama, Syo would say.

He nodded, uncertain. “…okay.”

“You can also tell her that I could have killed you any time I wanted, but I didn’t.” She laughed as he turned paler. “So, both you and her can trust me.” Syo turned to leave.

“Wait!” He said. “How do I know this isn’t some kind of trick?”

“Ooh, paranoid, are we?” She snickered. “Here’s the kicker, Ma-kun. You don’t.” In an instant, her hand went for his bedside lamp and shut it off, rendering the room dark once more. “Sleep tight!” She said.

By the time Naegi had registered what was happening, she was gone.

*

Most of the next day had gone by in a daze for Fukawa. She felt as if she had gotten no sleep at all the previous night. This did not bode well. From her experience, Syo’s nightly activities were the usual cause of this fatigue. It had been awhile since that wretched woman had last emerged, and there had been no news reports of murders for a long time, but who’s to say it hadn’t been her?

She was probably up making scissors again, Fukawa tried to tell herself. Or watching anime. Or reading that disgusting Yaoi garbage online. Syo had done these sorts of things many times in the past, after all. And there were no new scars on her thigh when she checked this morning. No reason to assume that she claimed another victim, right?

She dug her nails into the palm of her hand, willing herself not to think about it.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Fukawa whispered aloud, taking a deep breath. God, who the fuck did she think she was fooling? Since when did anything ever turn out fine?

“It might not have even been her.” This much was true. Perhaps the stresses of school, her authorial career and her family life were taking their physical toll. People simply weren’t meant to deal with this sort of pressure. But her gut was telling her otherwise. Something’s happened, her instincts told her. And Syo was a part of it, somehow.

The school bell jarred her out of her reverie. Although she could have sworn she drifted off for just five minutes at the very most, a whole hour long lesson had passed her by. Around her, Fukawa’s classmates stood from their desks and made to leave as their teacher made his closing remarks. “You’ll want to get started on your assignments ASAP, ladies and gents,” he said. “Believe me, there’s a lot of ground you’ll need to cover.” He swept up his things and left.

Fukawa lifted her glasses and rubbed her eyes. More than anything, what she wanted right now was to get some rest. She started packing her books in to her bag. By the time she was done, the classroom was almost completely empty. There was only one other student aside from her, and she didn’t have to look to know who it was.

“Um… Fukawa-san?” Naegi said. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“O-Of course there is,” she sighed. “Alright, what is it?”

Naegi looked around the classroom, as if scanning for anyone who might be listening. His voice was quiet.

“I…uh,” he scratched his head, “God, how do I put this… I had a visit from someone we both know last night.”

Her heart sank immediately. Without him having to elaborate, she knew who he meant. Vaguely, against the tide of raw panic in her mind, she heard him say the name ‘Syo’.

The worst had finally happened. Somebody found out the truth. Her life was over. Everyone would know, and she’d face judgement for crimes she never committed.

Except things didn’t add up. Why was he telling her about this instead of simply going to the police? The last thing he should want is to warn her about his intentions, lest she try and stop him. This conversation had no reason to happen, unless…

Her mind came to the simplest conclusion.

“T-this is blackmail, isn’t it?” She said, meekly. “Y-You want money. Or s-something else entirely.” Unconsciously, she drew her arms across her chest protectively and shrank back.

“No, no!” Naegi raised his hands shoulder-high. Gently: “Fukawa-san, you know me. I’d never do that to you. And I’m not going to tell anyone else, either.”

The fear in her eyes wavered a little. “Then, w-why bring this up at all?”

“I just thought that maybe you needed somebody to talk to about it.”

She could have sworn she misheard him. “Wha…?”

“You must’ve been carrying this burden all by yourself, right?” He said sympathetically. “I mean, it’s not like there was anyone you could turn to without getting into trouble. That must have been so terrible for you.”

Fukawa had no idea how to respond. This was the absolute last thing she would have expected. Why wasn’t he afraid of her? Why wasn’t he calling her a murderer or a freak? Why was he still bothering with being nice to her?

Didn’t he know any better?

“Naegi, i-if you k-know about her,” she said, trembling, “then you know it’s d-dangerous to be around me now. There’s no telling what she’ll do. Please, you have to–”

“Yeah, about that.” He told her about Syo’s parting advice.

“And you believe her??” Fukawa had become exasperated. “Y-You can’t honestly be that naïve! There’s no way she can be trusted!”

“Maybe so,” his response was strangely calm, “but either way, I can’t just leave you alone with this.”

He stepped closer, much to her surprise.

“Listen, as far as I can see, you’re in trouble. You’ve been in trouble for a long time now, and nobody was ever around to help.” There was conviction in his eyes. “But I’m here now. Maybe it’s dangerous and maybe I’ll get hurt, but I can’t just sit around and do nothing while you suffer. I don’t know if there is anything I can do to help with this, but you’re my friend. And I want to at least try, okay?”

There it was. That word again. Friend. He still thought of her as a friend. In spite of all the verbal barbs she had thrown his way. In spite of how awkward and anti-social she was. In spite of what he had learnt about her murderous other half. Naegi still thought of her that way. Anyone else would have given up on her long ago, yet here he was.

That must have been so terrible for you, he had said. Naegi had no idea how right he was. Nor could he know how grateful she now was that – finally – after so long, she had somebody that actually tried to understand.

She realized she was crying.

(Fukawa-san…?)

“I…” she faltered, not knowing what to say. Her tears fell heavier. “I…”

He pulled her into an embrace. (Fukawa-san?) Her heart felt like it was ready to burst – the way it did recently whenever she was around him – and she hugged him back, squeezing tight.

“We’ll figure something out,” he said. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

She wanted very badly to believe that. That there was still hope for her. But how could she? (Can you hear me?) Things always went wrong for her. And she didn’t see what he could possibly do that would solve the problem. Sure, Naegi was willing to stand by her side now, but when he learnt just how little he could do for her, he would leave. No matter what he said. And that was assuming Syo didn’t wind up killing him first.

It wasn’t fair. He was her only true friend, one she had grown to care deeply about. And no matter which way this went, she was going to end up losing him–

 “Fukawa-san!”

And suddenly, Fukawa was back in the cool conditioned air of Naegi’s room, hovering over his bed, while her boyfriend – sick with fever – eyed her curiously from beneath the sheets. She blinked, feeling disoriented.

“You were spacing out for a moment there,” he said, amused. “Is everything alright?”

She took a deep breath, allowing herself to collect her scattered thoughts, then shook her head.

“Y-yeah,” she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Everything’s fine.”

Everything’s fine, she thought. Just as she had told herself it would be, that afternoon in Spring. And just as Naegi had promised. Who’d have guessed that they’d be right?

“What were you thinking about?”

She considered telling him, then shrugged. “Old stuff. N-nothing important.”

Naegi’s story hadn’t taken long to finish. Syo snuck in through his window, ran her mouth off about some asinine horseshit and asked him her stupid questions. As Fukawa listened, more memory fragments bled through. She could recall some of the observations Syo had made about the bookshelf and desk, as well as her theory about Naegi possibly having hidden salacious paraphernalia somewhere around here (That ridiculous woman hadn’t thought to search under Naegi’s bed, apparently. Fukawa was of half a mind to do it herself). On the subject of Syo unmasking her true feelings, Naegi had made a joke.

“You know, you and I kinda owe her for getting us together,” he said. She had responded by rolling her eyes.

“I refuse to t-thank her for a g-goddamn thing.”

Occasionally, he paused to cough or have her check to make sure no one was outside to hear any of the more compromising details. They were undisturbed. When the story ended, Fukawa found herself thinking back to how their relationship began.

He had stayed with her this whole time. Whether as her friend, or as her boyfriend, he had always been there. Finding out that she had a fucking serial killer cooped up inside her skull hadn’t been enough to scare him away. Here they were one year later, despite the odds, still going strong. He could have and should have gone with someone else already, yet he hadn’t, for reasons entirely beyond her.

Stupid boy, she thought fondly. Crazy, stupid boy.

Fukawa heard him chuckle. “Someone’s in a good mood,” he said.

“What do you m-mean?”

“You’re smiling.”

Ah. She hadn’t been aware of it until he said so. When he asked why, she cupped his cheek tenderly. She took her time deciding how best to say what she wanted to say.

“Has a-anyone ever told you,” she asked, after a full minute, “that sometimes you’re too n-nice for your own good?”

Naegi laughed. “Yeah. You do. All the time. Where’s this coming from?”

“Nowhere,” she gave him a quick peck on the forehead, stroking his hair. They shared a moment of comfortable silence.

“Hurry up and get better already,” Fukawa said. “It’s lonely at school without you.”

End Notes: On the topic of reader requests, one of my anons was hoping that the unveiling of Syo’s identity might lead to Fukawa crying and Makoto hugging her and promising that everything will be alright. I’ve kind of done that here, and I hope it turned out satisfactory. (Good lord, that was last year. Where did all the time go?)

I also took a bit of liberty with how Fukawa’s and Syo’s memory retention works for the purpose of the story. Hope that’s okay too.