Work Text:
"Is that Makoto?"
"I thought he was shorter than that."
"No, Makoto from last year. Niijima. Why's she back here?"
"It hasn't even been one semester. Does she really like taking orders from Principal Lard Ass that much?"
"Maybe she heard what Naegi had to say to him and can't stand the thought of anyone shit talking her master like that."
"Well there's nothing for her here. She should just stay in her new fancy school and leave us alone."
Ah, Shujin. The very air here stank of rumors, just like Makoto remembered. She trailed the rows of lockers on the first floor, near to classroom 1-C by the stairwell, thinking one of those might have been hers, if she hadn't left.
She saw faces she recognized, classmates of hers from last year, and she caught their glances back, some looks irritated, some looks accusing, and here and there, a look of dread, though, on another person's behalf. The thoughts that must have been going through their heads, it was nothing Makoto didn't know already.
The Principal's sock puppet. Kamoshida's evil queen. It was a reputation that made her think she and Naegi would be better off having this meeting somewhere else, but, the student council room it was.
His idea, but as Makoto made her way to the stairs, she wondered just how many people would think she came back to reclaim her old throne, her old title.
Voices in the background. To the slight girl trudging through the hallway, that was all it was. Voices from outside, not within. She carried herself with her head all the way down, arms wrapped around a textbook she didn't need to take home tonight, as she moved towards her locker on the second floor.
Every step, the other students still hanging around turned to gawk at her like she was some kind of zoo animal, then their hushed voices started saying her name. "Oh, it's Akira! Where's she gonna go?" "Same place as yesterday?" "Same place every day, haha."
That, okay, it was true, but it didn't matter. It didn't make any difference how much a creature of habit Akira was. It wasn't anything worth laughing about… right?
She knelt down to prop her book against the locker, fumbled with the combination lock. "Let's see if she remembers the number." Of course she did. One. Ten. Thirty-seven. Somehow, the number was impossible to forget, even if she wanted to.
The few students gathered around to watch burst into a slow, irksome applause. "She did it." "Let's go!" "Kick that lock's ass, Akira!"
Why were they like this? Every day, it was the same, too loud to ignore, and when it stopped, when they dispersed, the flashbacks took their place. Akira froze up in front of her locker door, struggling to stand back up. Ever since midterms, or, no, it was started the week after that, she just wanted the surge of attention to end.
And when she pulled herself up, and she unlatched the door and her science textbook fell over on her feet, another set of voices cut through the chatter, someone else clearly looking for her.
"Yeah, that's her," one of the approaching boys said. "That's Number Five."
Akira glanced over, at the group of people closing in on her. Her eyes darted back the instant the girl in front made contact, and she picked up her book off the ground and placed it inside the locker, trading it for one of the others.
As the girl at the front of the group got nearer and nearer to her, Akira tried to loosen the clench in her jaw, only to tense up again at a tap on her shoulder.
"Hey, Aki-chan!" the front girl skipped up next to her. "It is you! I thought it was you. I almost didn't recognize you since you always have your head down in class, but, I knew I wouldn't forget." Just as she said it, Akira pulled her head down further.
The windows on the second floor overlooking the courtyard were a more familiar sight. As, unfortunately, was the sight of a circle of students harassing a girl in the hallway. Makoto stood still for a moment, glancing away, up at the top of the stairs where she was going.
But she heard what was happening just outside the stairwell. "That must be really nice, just cruising through classes like it's the easiest thing in the world." It was a voice Makoto thought she knew.
"I-It's not like that…" the smaller girl said.
"Oh? Are you saying I'm wrong?" "You dare talk back to Kinuye like that?" "You got a lot of nerve you little freak!"
Makoto's blood boiled as she saw the girl shrink down even smaller beneath the bullies that surrounded her. She had to help, every other thought slipped her mind. Naegi could wait. He'd understand.
"Boys, look what you're doing to poor, little Aki-chan here. Plus, it looks like it's true, and I was mistaken after all. You're no genius, you're just a freak. Like everyone says. It's disappointing, you know? I really hoped you were someone I could talk to."
Makoto stormed forth into the hallway, snapping at that final straw. "Is that so?" she said. A girl that shared some of Makoto's own intensity was breathing down Akira's neck as she stepped through the doors.
She pulled away, and glared back at Makoto. "Niijima," she said. "Fancy seeing you here again. Did you miss us?"
The girl spoke with a sweetness to her tone that clashed with the rest of the scene just moments ago. Makoto shifted her weight on one foot. "I didn't miss this," she said. "Kinuye Izuhara, was it? You didn't answer my question."
Izuhara flared her nose at Makoto. "Sharp. I'm flattered that you remembered me. Of course, I could never forget you. You want an answer? The answer's yes. I really, really wanted Akira to be someone as admirable as… as I thought you were. But she's not."
Still cornered by her locker, Akira was shivering in place. "So why try to tear her down?" Makoto said. "If you think you see something great in her, bring it out, or let her show it on her own. Otherwise, move on. Everyone in this school has enough problems already without you making things worse."
Izuhara stamped towards her. It finally gave Akira some room to breathe. "Is that why you left? Too many problems for you to handle? Or, were you making things worse? You let Kamoshida torture and abuse whoever he wanted for a whole year. And then, do you know what we just went through after all that? People were getting blackmailed left and right by a gang of drug dealers. And who went and did something about it? Makoto. Only, it wasn't you."
Makoto caught a finger jabbed at her. The rest of the words just bounced off. Izuhara would never know how long she beat herself up over burying Kamoshida's crimes, never know how involved she was taking down Kaneshiro. "Is there a point to this?" Makoto said.
"I used to look up to you." Izuhara pulled her hand away. "I thought I understood your position, how much pressure you were facing, from knowing what you knew, and always being pushed around. But then you transferred away, and the bad things that you let happen and watched unfold just stopped all on their own. The other Makoto said the Principal's behind it, but it sure looks like you're the one to blame. So don't talk to me about making things worse. Shujin's better off without you-"
"No, that's wrong!"
Akira blurted it out, before Makoto could even gather her own thoughts. A sudden swell of conviction that caught both her and Izuhara off guard. Whatever her tormentor was trying, it didn't work.
A moment later, and the rush faded, and now she felt the eyes on her. "Niijima's not the one who broke Sakamoto's leg," Akira said. "She's not the one who forced Iida and a bunch of others to smuggle drugs. And she's not the one harassing me right now!"
One of the boys at Izuhara's side clenched his fists. "You want to take that back, bitch?"
Makoto dove in between them and swept her arm across Akira's chin onto the locker next to hers. "Don't even try it." She stared hard at him, a burning look that dared him to make another move despite her warning.
Even Izuhara turned on him in a flash. "You! Shut the hell up!" Just as fast, the boy backed away. As Makoto stood in the middle like a shield, Izuhara eyed the both of them, but spoke through to Akira. "And how much more damage would that drug gang have done, if Niijima was here and Naegi wasn't? How much more would Kamoshida be getting away with? Tell me, Akira. Who is she helping?"
"Me." Akira's breath ran fast and shallow, and her heart hammered so hard Makoto could hear it thrumming. "I don't know what you want, but I can tell you, no. I'm sorry, I can't help. Leave me alone."
In the silence that fell, Makoto could see Izuhara back up and shake something out of herself. She could see another tirade brewing, and cut her off at the start. "The pressure," she said. "Where does it come from for you?"
She huffed and crossed her arms. They both knew where Makoto was going. "Everywhere," Izuhara said. "Just like you."
"Do you really want to be just like I was last year?" Makoto said. A useless sock puppet for the Principal. A mindless drone for grades. She was more than happy to put those days behind her. "Everything felt unfair. Everything was against me. You want to live like that?"
"Everything against you?" Izuhara scoffed. "Says the Hope's Peak student! I don't need to be told what is and isn't fair from someone who had her whole future handed to her by random fucking chance!"
"I choose my future," Makoto said. "Not luck. Not some government funded high school. And not all the hypocrites who hold us to a higher standard than they hold themselves. You get to choose, too, Izuhara. We all do. You can choose misery, or you can choose to live."
Izuhara grumbled and flailed her arm, squeezed her fist, and turned and walked away. Her followers did as they were, and when they were gone, Akira was quickly slumped over in Makoto's arms, and she clung on Makoto's shoulders with hers. "Thank you," Akira said, and she dangled there for a little while before finding her footing.
"You held yourself well, too," Makoto said.
They stood, still linked by their arms, and for once, Akira looked in someone's eyes and stayed there. "You spoke up for me first," she said. "And then she started lashing out at you and I felt bad for dragging you into it just for my sake."
"Don't worry. It's not your fault," Makoto said. She slowly slid her hands off her Akira. "Will you be okay if she comes to confront you again?"
Akira shook her head. "I don't think she will," she said. "Finals are pretty close. Izuhara was probably just stressed about that."
"Well, it's good to see someone take a stand for themselves either way," Makoto said. "That's one thing I know this school could use more of."
Though they pulled apart, Akira still held her eyes fixed on Makoto's and reached behind herself for the locker door. Halfway there, her backpack slipped off of her shoulder and cluttered on the floor. Both of them reached down for it, grabbing the same stretch of the strap.
A tinge of something hard to explain filled Akira's cheeks as their hands overlapped, and one of them curled her fingers over the other. And it was just as hard for Makoto to suppress a smile, much less the warmth that fueled it.
Better to embrace it instead.
"Akira…" she started. "I'm really glad for what you said about me, too." Izuhara's accusations may have been driven by unbearable pressure, but it spoke to what everyone else thought about her. A crony. A coward. A useless pawn. Thoughts Makoto had about herself, that took this long to face.
"She went too far. But, some of the things she did say, I actually agree." Akira tugged on the backpack strap, and Makoto let go for her to pick it up for herself. "Things weren't easy for you, even if they ended up being easy for someone else." That was the face of Izuhara's frustration in the first place. "But that doesn't have to mean anything. Some things just are the way they are."
They stood up, and with the textbook tucked away, Akira gingerly closed the locker door. "I don't think Izuhara's a bad person, though," she said. "She was never that nasty before."
For worse, or for better, people could change. Anyone could, even as bullheaded as, well, herself, Makoto thought. All it took was a fair chance. "Would you want to talk to her again?" she said. "After everything's had time to cool off."
Akira clicked the lock closed and spun the dial around. "Maybe… Can we do it together?" She gulped a still quaking voice. "Just in case."
Makoto nodded. "If that's what you need. I'll reach out to her, and then, we can all talk this through. Toge-"
"Oh, there you are!"
Makoto swiveled her head around to see Naegi coming down the stairs, and stopped mid step when he saw Akira with her. "Sorry if I'm butting in on anything," he said. "Whenever you're ready, Niijima."
Akira tucked her head down. "I need to get home anyway. Thanks, Makoto." She walked past them on her way down, leaving Naegi to look around confused about anything he might have done.
Not you, Makoto mouthed at him, and they forged on, up the stairs to the student council room, easing the door shut behind them.