Late into Friday Night, or Early into Saturday Morning Thereof, Exact Time Unknown.

Celestia Ludenberg lay still, her porcelain skin perfectly doll-like in color and form against the expensive silk of the black sheets that dressed her bed, the sharp contrast aiding in conveying her fragility. None would know of the anxiety that coursed through her quiet body, as she kept her appearance a perfect facade, even when alone. Her eyes were closed, yet her delicate eyelids twitched. The satin eye-mask she wore to sleep was pushed up above her eyes and stuck to her forehead. Thin fingers rested neatly spread at the top corner of the mattress, near to the desk that was currently serving as a bedside table and upon which sat her cellphone.

She waited expectantly for the phone to trill and chime as a result of the scandalous information she had posted on Hope's Peak Academy's private Facebook (sometimes affectionately called HopeBook by the student body), for she knew it would draw a delicious response.

The information was as follows.

One, next weekend she would be having a party. A dress-to-impress, open bar, superbly chic and inexplicably adult party at a nearby casino where she was a known and respected high-roller. Individual invitations would be handed out in person by her minions, of course; but the masses must know of the party's coming, so that they could gossip about it, and obsess and fixate on it, and so that her fellow students could writhe in pain as they waited to discover whether or not they would receive an invite.

Celes wanted this party to be the most talked about event on Hope's Peak's campus, beating out Togami Byakuya's soiree with merciless ease. It would be the first big party of the year, for none would remember the heir's gathering after her impressive and marvelous affair.

Two, she was now officially dating said social opponent, Togami Byakuya.

There was no one Enoshima Junko hated more at Hope's Peak Academy than Kirigiri Kyouko.

Enoshima hated Kirigiri because, as the Super High School Level Detective, there was no one more impartial. Even Kirigiri's color scheme was impartial, her not white or not lavender, but mystically silver hair; purple-hued jackets and sweaters paired with ambivalently grey skirts. The way Kirigiri flitted about in the shadows, despite the fact that the entire school knew that her father was the headmaster. The way her chiseled expression conveyed nothing of hope or despair of any kind.

The detective moved behind the scenes, and therefore Enoshima could never make a show of her.

And for this defiance, Enoshima hated her.

But that would change, for the world was destined to be Enoshima Junko's plaything, and no one else was allowed to do as they pleased, lest they tarnish her unique and captivating vision where all were doomed to suffered on her cue. Enoshima desired a world where everything was decorated with beautiful, riveting despair rising in frightening crescendo, and she would be damned before a prissy brat took that away from her.

The doors opened into another of Hope's Peak's sprawling, lavish yards, complete with a football field circumscribed by a pristine track and several tennis courts. One such court caged the shadow girl, Kirigiri Kyouko, her hair pulled into a ponytail, slim body donned in a brand new polo and tennis shoes.

Super High School Level Fashion Girl Enoshima Junko bounded onto the court in her tennis uniform, fluffy pigtails floating alongside her like clouds above her visor.

"No fear, Enoshima Junko is here!" she grinned, prancing up to a group of girls who crowded around the benches tightening their shoelaces and putting on their gloves.

"I'm a teensy bit late, but you can understand that, right, coach? Let's get to whacking that tennis ball! I'm so pumped, I could crack a thousand of 'em!"

Preferably at someone's face, she thought, but her sweetened smile betrayed naught a sliver of that thought.

"Warm-ups are first, Miss Enoshima," said Coach Hiroaka. "We begin practice with stretches and a jog around the school building."

"Eh? No hitting things yet? What do I have this for, then?" Enoshima twirled around a bright pink tennis racquet, almost smacking the girl who stood beside her.

"If you don't warm up, you'll injure yourself," said the coach.

"Oh!" Enoshima grinned straight at the silver-haired girl, whose lips were pursed in a straight line, indifferent as always. "Can't risk messing up this beautiful face of mine!"

Throughout the unfolding scene Kirigiri Kyouko was silent. She knew of the Super High School Level Fashion Girl from class, of course, but had not come much into contact with her. It was very apparent to the detective's deductive mind, however, that this energetic girl was not what she seemed. In fact, her gut told her that Enoshima Junko was the exact opposite of what she seemed. If she were the reverse of empty-headed, that made her sharp-minded. If she were the reverse of careless, that made her calculating. If she were the reverse of ditsy and harmless, then she was outright dangerous. These deductions made Kirigiri Kyouko the sole person closest to discovering, though she wasn't quite sure yet, that Enoshima Junko was actually the Super High School Level Analyst-and a mind like that was something to be feared.

She chose a perfect cover, thought Kirigiri, who dutifully took off into a jog with the rest of her teammates, watching as Enoshima's hair whipped in the wind.

It looks like there's someone else I have to keep my eye on.

The detective was well in shape, routinely going on runs to keep her physique as trained and tamed as her mind, which she tested on puzzles and unsolved cases in her spare time. She quickly caught up to Enoshima, who, if she was struggling with the pace, showed no hint of it in the wild grin that donned her red lips.

"This is fun, huh?" asked Enoshima through her perfectly white teeth, gliding across the grass with ease.

Kirigiri cast her a glance and didn't say anything. Her mind was working as she ran, going over all the data she had been compiling on her classmates and her father. Strange things were going on in the Seventy-eighth class. If a Super High School Level Analyst was part of that group, such an individual would be sure to be causing trouble. Perhaps even at the root of the trouble. Perhaps she was even directing others to cause trouble for her. Perhaps…

"What do you know about Ikusaba Mukuro?"

The question was pointed and sharp, and Kirigiri knew from the sudden look of shock on Enoshima's face the moment she uttered it that she was correct.

"Oof!"

Enoshima cried out as she fell forward and crashed into the grass, Kirigiri leaving her behind as she sprinted on ahead.

So the blonde avoided the question, and left things all too obvious for the Super High School Level Detective to put together.

Asahina Aoi wandered into the laundry room half dressed. It was eight o'clock on Saturday morning and no one was awake. It was the time she always did her laundry, week after week, after her morning run. Back in her dorm she had stripped off her sweaty clothes and socks, thrown them into the laundry basket and slipped on a loose tank top and a pair of boxer shorts she always slept in. She shuffled off to the laundry room with the pitter patter of slippers on tile.

Undeniably, the Super High School Level Swimmer was stressed. Exercise had burnt off some of the lump of anxiety in her stomach, but she remained uncomfortable and nervous. She never could have imagined the pressure she would be under upon coming to Hope's Peak. Training had never been anything but a breeze; meets were barely stimulating. If not for her burning desire to push herself beyond all human limits as an athlete, she would have been bored. But she was older now, and her opponents tougher, and competing in the Olympics was something she couldn't even imagine.

The thoughts made her dizzy, and after loading the washing machine she sat down.

Yawning, Asahina picked up a magazine. A familiar face beamed inauthentically from the cover. It kind of gave her the creeps. She thought about how strange photographs were; and how strange film was. And listening to your own recorded voice when you programmed your answering machine. It was an out of body experience, watching and hearing yourself in third person, as a spectator.

What weird thoughts. Her blood sugar was probably low, she concluded. She should eat some donuts.

She jumped up out of her seat as the door whipped open. A mop of billowing jacket and loose dreads wandered in. Hagakure Yasuhiro.

"'Eeey, Hina!" His voice wavered into a friendly lilt, but she could tell he was disappointed. "Didn't think anyone would be in here."

He noticed her rolled up boxers revealing a hint of her behind and his eyes lit up.

"Ah, maybe not the worst thing-"

Asahina scoffed.

"You're gross. What are you doing up this early?"

"I have uh-er," he snapped his fingers as if trying to recall that himself, "a, um, business meeting. I'm very professional. It's at nine. Or ten. Or eleven. One of those."

Asahina rolled her eyes.

"A business meeting? Get real."

"It's true! Toges' got some master plan or something. Me and Naegi gotta listen to it. What a jerk, making us meet up at three different hours on Saturday! He's not right in the head."

Asahina listened to Hagakure with complete disinterest.

"Cool story. Either way, I told you not to talk to me. So, why are you in here, other than to creep on me?" She hoped he would get the hint and leave, seeing as he had no laundry to do other than the clothes he was wearing.

He... wouldn't do that, would he?

"Hey!" It finally dawned on her. "You were gonna smoke in here, huh!? What the heck!?"

"Come on, this room has great ventilation!"

"Seriously, how do they not catch you!?"

Hagakure thought about it for a moment but couldn't come up with an answer.

"I think I'm allowed to do it since it helps me with my super talent. Gets me in the zone."

"No way do they just allow you to smoke up in school."

"That is the nature of the occult," he said, arms folded and nodding in affirmation.

"I thought you said the occult was bogus?"

"Exactly-that's why it's unbelievable."

Asahina sighed.

"Well, I'm not gonna let you do drugs in here. I'm not getting in trouble."

"Aw, man! I don't get why you're so uptight about it. Well, I guess I'll just hang out with you a bit, then."

He pulled a folding chair out from the table. It creaked as he settled into it.

"What! No!"

Asahina's cheeks turned red as she realized how under-dressed she was, and she awkwardly unrolled her boxer shorts to try and cover up more of her butt. She crossed her arms and bristled, wishing she had her track jacket to zip up into.

"Why not? I need something to do before my meeting."

Hagakure leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table. Asahina clenched her fists and stared him down, willing him to get up and walk away with all of her brain power.

"Come on!" Hagakure pleaded, scratching at his ear. He closed his eyes and whistled for a bit. "I'm great to hang out with."

Asahina dropped her defense. She knew it was useless to put up a fight when the clairvoyant was obviously too dense to listen to reason.

"Okay, then. I guess I could use some company," she pouted, reaching for the back of the chair she had been sitting in.

Hagakure grinned.

"All right!"

It was then that the washer exploded.

Blue water spewed out from the corners of the hatch, bubbles erupting in white foam like a famous wave crashing in the Pacific Ocean. The hatch door rattled and bounced up and down before blowing open.

Asahina skidded forward along with the chair she held onto and Hagakure jumped out of his seat.

"What the crap!?"

"Quick, blow it out!"

"It's not a fire!"

"Turn it off!"

"Okay!"

Asahina threw herself at the machine and pounded the OFF button.

"It's not working!"

She whacked it multiple times. Water and bubbles splashed all down her front.

"It's possessed by a ghost! It's gonna spit out purple slime!"

"Not all over my clothes! Fix this!" she turned frantically to Hagakure who was holding his head and screaming.

"You're a boy!"

"That means I don't know any better!"

"Honestly, how useless can you be!?"

Getting drenched in water, Asahina leaned over the washing machine and continued tinkering with the buttons, trying anything she could to make the madness stop. Soap suds bubbled and burst, the girl wiping her mouth with wet arms to wash away the detergent.

"Ugh! Yuck!" she whined as she continued her button mashing. "It's no use! This damn thing's completely busted!"

"Dude, we're gonna be completely busted! Everyone's gonna think I broke it! This is all your fault!" cried Hagakure.

"It was an accident! Augh, what do we do!? Should we go get a janitor?"

Hagakure waved his hands in front of his face frantically.

"Nuh-uh, no way! We gotta handle this on our own. Let me think."

Asahina sighed.

"Oh boy, if it's left to your pea-sized brain then we're definitely screwed."

"I got it! Okay, there are some trash bags in the cabinet, right? How about you grab your clothes and put 'em in a trash bag, and we'll haul it up to your room and leave it in your shower until the laundry's fixed. Then nobody will ever know we were here!"

Asahina surveyed the damage, water hopelessly spilling over the side of the machine and spreading further across the tiled floor.

She bit her lip. The plan was dangerous, no doubt, as anyone could spot them as they headed back to her dorm. She was, however, luckily on a lower floor and therefore they didn't have very far to go. She looked at the clock. Others would definitely be up and about soon.

"It looks like we have no choice. Okay, let's do it!"

Asahina opened the supply cabinet and grabbed a trash bag, handing it over to Hagakure.

"All right, hold this open for me while I put my clothes in."

"What!? But I'm gonna get soaked!"

"We're in this together now! Don't be unhelpful!"

Groaning, Hagakure consented, and Asahina began loading her clothes into the bag. She slipped on the wet tile, and Hagakure caught her, cheeks reddening a little as he helped to get her steady.

"Hey! Be careful! I don't need you to have a broken skull too!"

Though his face was still wracked with incredulity, he looked at her with a genuine concern that made her blush. His rough fingers were warm on her forearms, and she could barely process being so close to a boy along with everything that was happening.

The clothes Asahina held against her were sopping wet, and, suddenly and with gusto, she began to laugh.

"This is such a total mess," she chuckled, and Hagakure joined in, though his laugh was a bit more confused and nervous than the swimmer's was.

For the first time since she had come to Hope's Peak, Asahina Aoi forgot about the pressure she was under. The absurdity of the incident created an unreality where she was free from regrets, and the plain white laundry room had become the colorful stage of a game. She picked up a shirt and playfully whipped Hagakure across the chest.

"Got you!"

He guffawed and made spitting noises as he tried to expel the soap that had sprayed into his mouth.

"Hey! That's not funny! This is my nice shirt!"

"That is a bummy tee shirt, you doofus!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Hagakure called out as the hand that didn't hold the trash bag jolted up to block more swings.

Asahina giggled, her smile as wide as the ocean.

"Crazy girl!"

"Stupid butt!"

She whacked him again and again, swinging the wet shirt like a whip.

"Come on, cut it out!"

"Take this! And this! And that!"

Laughter rang out across the laundry room as the broken washer continued to gurgle, and Asahina felt better than she had in a long time. Hagakure felt assaulted and confused, but he couldn't deny the tickling in his belly at the sight of the pretty girl in front of him, and he hoped she hated him at least a little less now.

Taking heavy breaths, Naegi slunk into the black leather settee that somehow fit itself into Togami's dorm room. He had overslept, and barely made it to his destination at the appointed time.

"Naegi. What did I tell you about when to arrive for meetings?"

Naegi shifted in his hoodie.

"Um, for parties, it's... at least ten minutes late and for meetings it's... um... earlier..."

"Yes," said Togami. "Fifteen minutes early is acceptable."

"S-Sorry..." said Naegi, scratching the side of his head. His ahoge bobbed in apology.

"Sorry I'm late," said Hagakure as he opened the door and flopped down on the settee beside Naegi. His tee shirt and button-up were soaking wet, but after a moment of blank staring, neither Naegi nor Togami decided to address it.

"I'm surrounded by idiots," muttered Togami as he handed Naegi and Hagakure each a manila folder.

"What's this?" Naegi asked.

"It is an outline detailing my campaign for the rest of the semester."

There was a folder left for Togami himself, and he opened it up to the first page, Naegi and Hagakure following suit like they were in a classroom and Togami was conducting lecture.

"Next week is the preliminary elections. We have to collect at least one hundred and fifty signatures in order to qualify, and from there will be a vote to determine the two primary candidates," Togami said as he closed the folder and tucked it underneath his arm. "There should be nomination sheets in each of your folders. I expect you to take these with you wherever you go. I have decided that I will award twelve thousand yen to whoever collects the most signatures as an incentive."

"Whoa! You're actually gonna pay us!?" Hagakure almost fell off his seat.

Togami glared at him.

"What do you think I am, cheap?"

"You said it," Hagakure whistled as he bobbed his head around, trying not to look Togami in the eyes.

"The point is, I need you fools to take this seriously. I'm not concerned about losing, of course; but regardless, the signatures are needed in order to move on, so you must acquire them."

Naegi covered his face with his folder as he yawned. Hagakure let out a fart.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly as Naegi scooted away from him.

"There are no words available in the human language to convey my absolute disgust," said Togami, eyes vacant with shock.

Hagakure merely chuckled and scratched the back of his head.

Naegi pulled out his phone and sighed. His date with Kirigiri was later this afternoon. His stomach was doing belly flops.

"Go on, get out of here," Togami commanded, pulling Naegi out of his thoughts. "I no longer have need for you."

The heir made for his desk, already pulling out his cell phone to make some business calls. Naegi and Hagakure looked at each other with a resigned confusion and rose to leave.

Just as they were disbanding, there was a sharp knock at the door.

Togami answered it with blatant annoyance, literally rolling his eyes as he came upon the visage of Ishimaru Kiyotaka, pristine and poised on the other side of the door.

"Good morning, classmates!" bellowed Ishimaru in his deep and hearty voice.

"I am standing two feet from you. Can you please speak like a domesticated human being?"

"Right!" Ishimaru shouted with a genuine smile. "It seems there was an incident in the laundry room earlier and I took it upon myself to search for the perpetrator!"

"I have nothing to do with it," said Hagakure, folding his arms across his soggy shirt.

"A washing machine exploded and flooded the entire laundry room. It appears that whoever caused the flood didn't bother to contact Maintenance and simply left the place a disaster."

"Yup, didn't do it," said Hagakure.

Togami made to close the door.

"You heard the man. He says he had nothing to do with it," said Togami plainly.

Naegi and Hagakure looked at each other again and silently agreed it was time to make an escape. They slunk past Ishimaru who looked frantically back and forth between their retreating forms and Togami's stern gaze.

"But you haven't answered any of my questions-!"

"Kindly remove yourself from my sight."

Togami shut the door in Ishimaru's face.

The hall monitor sighed. This was happening to him an awful lot lately.

Later in the afternoon, Naegi Makoto stood in front of the dressing mirror in his dorm room, repeatedly knotting and unknotting his tie. No matter what he did, he couldn't get it to look right. Maybe it was his dress shirt that didn't fit him. Or perhaps he was having a bad hair day.

He nervously looked over to the pile of clothes in his hamper: his signature hoodie, some beat-up slacks, and dirty socks. Kirigiri had seen him in that outfit before, but he couldn't allow it again; not for a coffee date, especially.

A date.

He fidgeted with his bangs.

A date, a date, a date, a date, a date, a date, a date.

Was it a date? Or was it just a hang out? Did Super High School Level students 'hang out?' With Togami it was all 'business meetings' and 'soirees;' and Hagakure seemed to wreak havoc wherever he went, appearing and disappearing more than 'hanging out.'

What was he, Naegi Makoto, thinking that he could get along with these Ultimate students?

He frantically grabbed a lint roller and began rolling his pants. The slacks were similar to his others, inexpensive and casual-nowhere near as nice as the fancy pair Togami had bought for him, but he couldn't wearthose to a coffee date. Maybe he could convince Togami to take him shopping again so that he could have a decent every-day wardrobe.

A date, a date, a date, a date, a date, a date, a date.

Naegi looked at his phone. Ten minutes and he was supposed to meet Kirigiri at her dorm. He grabbed a sweater and pulled it over his shirt and tie. He slipped on his dress shoes-those should be okay, he figured. He didn't have any cologne, but he smelled his armpits, and convinced himself that he was in the clear.

Okay, time to go-

And he left the room, not realizing he had accidentally locked himself out.

...This… isn't a date, Naegi realized as he pouted before his disappointingly distasteful and overly expensive cup of coffee.

He slouched in the booth across from the beautiful and mysterious Kirigiri Kyouko, who seemed to be enjoying her Koffee Luwack just fine. To Naegi it tasted bitter and had emptied the contents of his wallet when he purchased a cup for each himself and Kirigiri, along with two blueberry scones to accompany the drink and a small package of mixed chocolates. But Kirigiri smiled, even hidden behind her gloved hands, and Naegi's heart sank knowing her smile had nothing to do with his pleasant company.

All she had done since they arrived had been interrogate him about his experiences thus far at the Academy, and he had rapidly begun realizing that she was using him for information and not for partnership. He answered her questions anyway, with a heavy heart, never one to turn to meanness even when he was being mistreated himself.

"I see. So the headmaster gave you a second chance?" she asked, tapping on her mug.

"Yeah," Naegi sighed, "he said that it was his idea to hold the draw for the super lucky student every year, and that he wasn't willing to give up his experiment."

Kirigiri raised an eyebrow.

"His experiment?"

Naegi could mentally see her scribbling away at a flip-top notebook.

"He didn't go into any detail-in fact, he kinda laughed… weirdly… n-not that your da-I mean, not that the headmaster's weird or anything, but he just... cut himself off and told me that he shouldn't have said anything about it."

He hoped Kirigiri didn't take offense to him calling her dad weird, but the female detective didn't bat an eyelash.

"He really is careless, isn't he? What a shame to the family name," she grumbled, swallowing more of her coffee.

Naegi looked down at his own cup and blanched. He positively could not take another sip.

"So…" he trailed off, pushing his cup away from him.

She met his eyes. He noted she was both guarded and expectant, and once again he felt the weight of her boots press into his gut and her sharp stare cut away at his heartstrings.

But, ever the optimist, he reached deep inside him for a lazy smile and asked her why she chose this particular establishment for their meeting.

She seemed surprised, but answered him in turn.

"I like this cafe because it's also a chocolate shop," said Kirigiri, gloved fingers currently unwrapping a suitable such piece. "Whenever I feel like I'm losing energy I'll suck on a piece of chocolate while drinking coffee. It's proven to give you a short mental boost."

She plopped the chocolate in her mouth just then and took a slurping sip of her coffee, momentarily relaxed purple eyes lingering on Naegi throughout the action.

He couldn't help the grin that flashed across his face. He chuckled.

"That's really cute."

She froze.

"C-Cute..?"

Naegi's chuckle broke off into nervous laughter and a cough.

"J-Just… the way you ate the chocolate just now… it was really cute…"

His face was completely red, as was Kirigiri's, but she pulled herself together, lips pursed and uncomfortably self-conscious.

"I-I don't know if you should be saying such things but… thanks…"

She stared out the window for a moment, tucking a stray piece of silver hair behind her ear and playing with the ribbon that adorned the single delicate braid she wore as part of her daily uniform.

"Speaking of… romantic… gestures… why did you bring me flowers?"

Kirigiri turned and pinned Naegi with her eyes once again.

The question struck him like a bullet through the heart and left him paralyzed. He felt heat on the back of his neck and ice cold in his chest, and he knew that Kirigiri Kyouko saw right through him as he failed to conceal his shock.

And she probably would have known, regardless, he was starting to realize.

After conversing with her for a half an hour or so and playing suspect to her inquiries, he was starting to understand that she figured out everything, understood and observed to a level that might even be called supernatural.

I guess this is what they call Super High School Level talent…

"W-Well, the flowers, I guess-I told you-I-"

"They weren't for me," said Kirigiri plainly.

Naegi let out a strangled gasp and mentally berated himself for it. He was an open book; but again, as he had come to realize, he could have been closed and locked and Kirigiri still would have found a key.

He searched her face for an emotion and couldn't find one. Instead, he voiced some inferences of his own.

"You knew all along," he said, both with reverence of her talent and still a hint of disbelief.

She propped her elbows on the table and leaned forward, resting her chin on folded hands.

"I did."

Red-faced and humiliated, Naegi slumped against the booth, despair written all over his face. His heart was an indistinguishable pile of mush, other organs numb and seeming to have abandoned him, particularly his stomach, which he felt probably floundered pathetically at his feet.

"Don't feel so badly about it," said Kirigiri with a half-smile.

Naegi's head perked up, surprised.

"What-?"

"You didn't upset me, at least," she said, closing her eyes for a moment and then glancing away.

Though she was opening up to him, her body language remained mysterious, and Naegi felt as though he watched her through a window, just a passenger catching glimpses of foreign scenery.

"I-I didn't?" he asked, still nervous and feeling small and weak as the average schoolboy he knew he was.

"No," she said, looking back to him. "I could tell that you wanted to give them to me."

Her cheeks turned pink as she said it, again surprising him so much that his mouth formed a small 'o' and his own face reddened.

"But, let me guess-they were for Celestia, from Togami? You're running errands for him, aren't you?"

At this, Naegi grumbled a bit.

"W-Well, I'm his assistant-" he started, but realized how lame even that sounded. He sighed. "Yeah. I'm… basically his errand boy."

But Kirigiri didn't try to humiliate him further.

"Was he upset about the mishap?"

"Strangely, no. I'm guessing somehow he didn't find out, especially since he and Celestia went on a date, which definitely wouldn't have happened if either of them were mad."

Kirigiri took a sip of her coffee and sat back with folded arms.

"You gave her a cheap bouquet from the corner store, instead," she said, matter-of-factly.

Naegi blanched.

"Y-Yeah, that's exactly what I did…" he started to chuckle, "I-I guess it worked, though, somehow…"

"Likely, Celestia took insult but consented to the date in order to get revenge. Do you know how the date went?"

"No, actually. Togami didn't say. Crap-maybe I am in for it after all-"

"I think you'll be all right," said Kirigiri. "Those two seem like the type who would enjoy hating each other. If anything, you may have lit the very match that sparked their romance."

"You think so? Wait-romance? Do you mean they're dating now?"

Kirigiri merely tapped away at her phone and then held the screen out for Naegi to see.

"Your observation skills sure are dull. It's been all over HopeBook."

"Wow," said Naegi, once again slumping into his seat. He pulled out his own phone and opened the Hope's Peak Facebook app, seeing at once several threads about the new couple on campus. "I didn't think you'd be the type to follow this kind of stuff."

Kirigiri let out a small laugh.

"I like to know what's going on."

Naegi smiled. It was as though a weight was lifted off his shoulders with Kirigiri knowing about the flowers, and though he was embarrassed by how magnanimously he revealed himself to her, it seemed as though his vulnerability was helping her get comfortable with him. She knew he had nothing to hide, and so she could relax-and he was more than okay with that.

"So what else do you like?" Naegi asked, deciding to try out one of the chocolates with a sip of his coffee. He coughed a bit. The coffee was still disgusting, but luckily the dense chocolate lingered longer in his mouth than the beverage did.

"Huh?" Kirigiri was genuinely perplexed.

"I mean, like, your hobbies and stuff. What do you do in your spare time?"

Kirigiri blinked for a moment. In fact, she blinked several times. When was the last time she had been asked something like this? Usually she was the one asking the questions, and if not, she was merely reporting basic statistics about herself to those curious about the detective agency she belonged to and cases she had worked on in the past.

Naegi Makoto…

She studied his face, which had a pleasant shape and was lit up with genuine earnestness. The tips of his ears stuck out from beneath hopelessly shaggy hair, and his eyebrows were dangerously relaxed and gave his whole countenance a general vibe of peace and centeredness. His eyes were bright, and wide, and added to his overall cuteness-

Her cheeks turned pink and her posture stiffened. She noticed her heartbeat had picked up. Kirigiri Kyouko, who normally, in regards to anything other than the outcome of a mystery, did not care, suddenly felt as though she cared very much as to how the conversation continued, and she did not know what to do. Part of her wanted to keep smiling and laughing and talking about herself to someone who truly wanted to listen, and part of her told her she was letting her guard down far too low, and that the drawbridge must be hoisted up immediately.

"Uh, Kirigiri?" Naegi asked after she had been silent for about a minute and a half. "Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine," she said, combing her fingers through her hair as she tucked stray wisps back once again, all to no avail as the locks continued to fall forward and frame her face. "I-uh-well, investigating takes up most of my time. I've been working since I was a small child."

"Oh, right-you said detective work was your family's legacy, didn't you?"

The girl's eyes widened. She didn't seem able to shake the blush that tinged her cheeks. He remembered that about her? She was sure she only vaguely mentioned it once…

"Y-Yes, that's correct. I was raised by my grandfather, a true Kirigiri detective, and from the time I could sit on his knee I read case files with him instead of bedtime stories."

"And you said your grandmother named you, right? You must really love your grandparents. It sounds like they love you a lot, too."

Her grandparents: her one weakness. This boy was absolutely a problem. She had to get out of this situation immediately.

"Yeah, we're close," she said, words strung together quickly. She swallowed. "Well, I had tennis practice earlier today and never got a chance to work on any homework, so I've got to get going-"

"Oh," said Naegi, disappointment evident in his voice. The conversation had just picked up a natural flow, and he didn't want her to leave. "Yeah-yeah, I have homework, too. Do you want me to walk you back to-"

"No, no, it's okay," Kirigiri said, getting up and smoothing down her skirt. She shrugged on a light parka and slung her book bag over her shoulder. "I have some errands to run before I go back to the dorms. I'll see you around."

With a whisk of silver hair fluttering and disappearing like a ghost, she was gone.

Naegi Makoto put his head down on the cafe table and sighed.

What ever did happen to my luck? Ugh...

...Ugh… I truly do… have the worst luck of all…

Naegi stood with his forehead pressed to his dorm room door, in a similar position as he was when he had such similar thoughts only an hour or so before.

His door was locked. He patted his pockets again and again and there was absolutely no key to be found. He must have left it in his nervousness to meet Kirigiri, and he could see it now, in his mind's eye, resting precariously on the edge of his dresser.

Naegi pondered his options. He supposed since it was a weekend he would have to go to the Campus Security office and get an officer to let him in. He was tired and didn't want to walk all the way there, but any other option, such as trying to find Hagakure and maybe hanging out for a while, would just delay the inevitable of him having to get back into his own room at the end of it.

Uncharacteristically, he pounded on the door with both fists, enduring a twinge of despair. He thought things had gone pretty well with Kirigiri, at least until she left in a sudden hurry-but what would it matter if he was expelled for failing to maintain his talent? He was a loser. A total failure.

"Ugh! I'm so dumb!" Naegi grunted, pounding the door again with both fists.

"You sure are!" came a bubbly voice from somewhere behind, above, or beside him-he couldn't tell-for it echoed eerily and made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Naegi whipped around and pressed his back to the door.

"Upupu. Upupupu. Did I scare you?"

Leaning against the hallway wall was a long, slender girl with impressive tufts of strawberry blonde hair that spilled from her head at all angles. Naegi knew her from class and by appearance only: the Super High School Level Fashion Girl.

"Enoshima Junko!" she squealed, and then laughed at herself, as if her name held some joke in it and Naegi was supposed to know what it was.

"E-Enoshima… hi," said Naegi meekly. For some reason, he was a bit afraid. "I'm Nae-"

"I know who you are!" she was suddenly in front of him and bent over to look him in the eye, as she was much taller than he was. "Naegi Makoto! Super High School Level Luck!"

She babbled these exclamations off as a child who was proud to correctly identify a person for the first time.

"Y-Yeah, that's right…" he said, finding himself fumbling with the door handle as if he could open it and escape inside, though he knew it was-

"Locked?" asked Enoshima, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

Naegi gulped.

"Yeah… I forgot my key when I left to meet a friend earlier."

"Upupu. Upupupu," Enoshima laughed, again as though Naegi should have been in on the joke; though he wasn't, and no laughter came from his lips.

"What-what is it?" he asked.

"Upupu. It's just so funny, isn't it? You're locked out of your room like a total loser-but you're supposed to have super duper good luck!"

Naegi blanched.

"Yeah, I guess it is-it would-be funny, maybe, if I wasn't going to be expelled over it."

"Expelled?" Enoshima Junko's tone of voice changed completely. "They'd fuckin' expel you over something as lame as that shit?"

"Y-Yeah, I guess, if I don't represent my talent I can't attend the school…"

"You don't say?" Enoshima asked, her shoulders held up higher and her posture straighter as she put a finger to her temple. "Well, I suppose that makes sense. Hope's Peak Academy does have a reputation to uphold, after all. The hope of the nation's future. What a remarkably stupid sentiment."

"Uh-excuse me?"

"Upupu. Upupupu," the girl laughed, having returned to her original, cheery personality. "Well, you better hope you get lucky pretty soon, Mr. Makoto! Bye bye!"

She disappeared around the corner, and, unnerved, Naegi made for the Campus Security office, walking in the opposite direction.

COMMENTS

*coughs and hacks loudly*

well it's been 7 months *cough cough hack hack*

you all probably hate me but you know

life and shit happened

i struggled getting back into this

BUT HERE YOU HAVE CHAPTER 9!

and i feel a renewed interest in this story so hopefully updates will come more often now and in the future!

thankyou so much to

A) anyone who bothered to read this huge long fic/chapter

B) anyone who's stuck with this story from the beginning and still reads it

C) anyone who's just picked this up and enjoyed it! THANKYOU!

also thankyou to my betas, James and Dixxy. :)

comments are VERY MUCH appreciated!

xo C