Can you please do a HoshiMatsu (Ryoma x Kaede) hurt comfort scenario where they go through survivor’s guilt from the killing game? Gonta’s the third survivor being the the greatest comfort too. Also Shuichi’s the traitor like Sakura.
Rating: Teen & Up Audiences
General Warnings: Mentions of Canon Typical Violence
Fandoms: Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony
Relationships: Ryoma Hoshi/Kaede Akamatsu, Ryoma Hoshi & Gonta Gokuhara, Kaede Akamatsu & Gonta Gokuhara
Additional Tags: Survivor’s Guilt, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship
Chapter Word Count: 6,014 words
Chapter Summary: Kaede is the most cheerful, optimistic person that Ryoma has ever known... and that only makes it worse when he can see that she's hurting, but she won't tell him why.
[Read it on AO3.]
Ryoma would never love again after losing Mio.
This is what he told himself before shit somehow hit the fan even harder than it had before. Assuming it had, anyway. He still had no way of knowing if what Tsumugi said was actually the truth. Perhaps his entry into her killing school life truly was the beginning of shit hitting the fan, and he’d actually lived a fairly normal existence before that… well, as normal as you could get, being obsessed with a reality TV show where contestants lose all sense of self and get murdered for the amusement of their peers. He still shivers when he thinks about the kind of person he might have been. There is still no way of knowing, but he can’t seem to stop his mind from drifting there from time to time. Kaede is constantly reminding him that he shouldn’t.
Kaede… He would never love after Mio, but then, out of nowhere in the darkest times of an especially dark life, there was Kaede.
From the moment they met, she flooded his being with pep and optimism. Confident, plucky, and incredibly friendly, she never struck him as the kind of girl that he would go after. A man who had nothing to live for had little to say to a girl who seemed to believe in the beauty of the world around her. He couldn’t relate to her insistence that they should try to be friends, that everything was not as bad as it seemed, and that they should try one last time to escape. His first impression of her was that she was simply exhausting. He had no idea how anyone could afford to have that much energy, especially in a place that was determined to crush them. Even when they lost their first classmate, a cool and stoic girl named Maki, Kaede kept her head up. She encouraged everyone to keep working together to solve the mystery of their killing school life and get home safe. No matter how many times they stumbled, she was always there, begging her classmates to just try things one more time.
Perhaps that was what he came to like about her, in the end. She was always a glass half-full kind of person. It applied to every part of her life. He imagines that’s why, in the end, she could come to love someone like him, too. He could think himself a beast, yet she would look at him as if he painted puffy white clouds in the sky just to fascinate her. A killing game was the last place he anticipated surviving, let alone finding love, so the experience was more than a little odd to him… but in the end, they were two of three who survived it all, who came out the other end when Tsumugi made every possible attempt to crush them. And, in the end, it was the two of them against the world – well, the two of them and Gonta, anyway.
It had been three months since their release from the Killing School Life, and the three of them had holed themselves up in a dingy two-bedroom apartment, trying to figure out where to go next. It was cramped and smelled a bit like feet, but it still felt like freedom in comparison to the enclosed dome of the Gifted Inmates Academy. It was warm, dry, and they could come and go as they pleased, so Ryoma saw no reason for complaining. He did his best to keep things clean where he could, and Kaede and Gonta had taken to decorating it where they could. After all, Gonta’s gentlemanly sensibilities connected well with Kaede’s thoughtful tastes, so they found that the two of them worked well together as a home furnishing team. If they needed someone to fix a leak in the piping of the sink, though, that was all Ryoma. It wasn’t much, but it was home, and they would happily work together to make it more of something.
Some days, it was harder to do that than others.
The sorrows of their unknown pasts and unforeseeable futures had a habit of grating on them, making it damn near impossible to accomplish anything. If one of them was overtaken by a dark cloud, a faint reminder of what they lost or a flickering memory of one of their dead classmates; it was over. They could be out of commission for days or even weeks. The other two, whoever they were, would take care of them – they were all they had, of course they would – but it would be hard to keep up morale. It is crushing enough for one of them to be experiencing that pain, but when the others can see and understand it so blatantly, it only gets worse. Ryoma is ashamed to admit that it is him most times it happens. He hates being a burden on Kaede and Gonta, but he knows he cannot control the weight of his emotions, no matter how desperately he wants to. It is hard, knowing how much of a burden he is placing on his friends, and even more so on Kaede, who more often than not is the person who keeps up a smile. She never seems to falter quite like he does, and he wishes he could be more like her. Hell, he wishes he could care for her like she cares for him.
Would she let him if the situation arose, he wonders? She’s never cried or refused food or lost sleep the same way he and Gonta have. Or, if she has, she’s never said a word about it. He hopes that that’s not the case. She deserves to be comforted just as much as anyone, if not more. But does he have an inflated perception of how much she needs him? It is difficult to say, but on their next day alone, he finds himself learning the truth of what she hides behind that glass half-full.
It is just the two of them. Gonta has gone out on some expedition in search of bugs, so the newly dating couple decides that they will have a nice night in, just the two of them. Neither of them is prepared to go running out into the world for a fancy meal or some lavish date. It seems like a no-brainer that they decide to spend their time together making a meal instead. After all, it adds another layer to their bonding… as does the thirty minutes it takes them to pick out what they are going to eat. Ryoma and Kaede are more similar than anticipated in many ways, but when it comes to food, the differences definitely start to show. The two of them go back and forth on ideas – Ryoma suggests Western and Kaede wants Japanese. Ryoma thinks the meal should feature more carbs like rice and pasta, but Kaede wants it to have more meat and veggies. Ryoma wants something with a bit of spice, but Kaede doesn’t want any at all. Finally they are able to settle on a classic: curry rice with a side of eggplant dengaku. Kaede initially suggests that they try to make the curry rice with the eggplant, but Ryoma has never tried the flavour before, so they decide to stick with the regular meat to keep things comfortable. All things considered, it’s quite fun to get to work on a meal together as a couple. Most of the time, everyone in the apartment takes turns cooking for each other. Kaede and Ryoma have scarcely had the opportunity to interact in the kitchen.
“How’s that rice comin’, Ryoma?” Kaede asks, lifting her tasting spoon out of the pot of curry sauce. She slips it into her mouth so delicately that Ryoma can’t help but watch. How is everything she does so perfect? Her eyelashes flutter a little as she savours the taste, and when she pulls it out, she grins.
“It’s rice,” he replies, “Hard to mess up.”
She giggles – a cute, short little thing, yet one he loves nonetheless. Kaede has a great laugh. It’s musical, ironically enough. Still, he can’t help but notice that it doesn’t seem completely there today. It’s not necessarily gone, but it almost sounds a little more forced. Normally, it comes as easy to her as blinking or breathing. “I guess you’re right about that. The curry’s coming along as well.”
Is she hiding something? It seems like the wrong time to ask. Even if he does, she might just brush him off, not wanting to ruin their evening together. Everyone in the group has had their dark hours, but Kaede has always seemed content to push hers away. Maybe this is another one of those times. He’ll just take things slow for now, see what else he can get out of her. For all he knows, the laugh could have been a fluke. She’s been a mellow cheerful all day otherwise.
“Do you think it will be ready soon?”
She shrugs, not stopping to meet his eyes. “Maybe… I think I’d give it a few more minutes, just to be safe. Make sure we really lock in that flavour.”
He doesn’t say anything back, just nods. He shifts attention instead to the eggplant dengaku. While the dish is traditionally grilled, their access to something like that is lacking, so they’ve used a combination of a skillet and broiler to get the effect. It should be just as smoky as one cooked the traditional way, anyway. He slips on some oven mitts and pulls it out with relative ease, inhaling the earthy scent. “Eggplants are looking good, too. Can you pass the miso sauce?”
Ryoma reaches over to grab a pair of tongs, too engrossed in his soon-to-be examination at first that he doesn’t notice when he can’t hear the clink of the miso bowl beside him. When he first starts looking, he just assumes that Kaede will be ready in a minute. Then, a few more seconds pass, and it becomes increasingly clear that she won’t be passing it. In fact, he’s not hearing anything from her section of the kitchen. When he flicks his head up to look at her, she is staring down at the pot of curry, the smile that was once on her face having disappeared. Her eyes look almost blank as she stares down, watching it bubble.
“Kaede?” He calls out again.
Instantly, she snaps to attention. The smile reappears, but her eyes don’t seem to agree with it.
“Sorry, did you say something?”
He quirks a brow at her, not sure whether he should press or just asking for the miso. The former makes the most sense, he thinks. If he wants Kaede to open up to him more, then he needs to prove to her that he is open and ready to listen. “Are you okay?”
The smile doesn’t crack, and her expression does not falter. It seems almost painted on. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“You… seem a bit distracted.”
“Oh, well,” Kaede shrugs and tucks her hair behind her ear, “It’s nothing you need to worry about. I’m just lost in my thoughts.”
Ryoma purses his lips. “It’s best not to be lost in thoughts all alone.”
She simply shakes her head and turns back to the curry pot. “Never you mind, Ryoma. I don’t want to ruin our night with my silly worries. They’ll come and go just like always.”
“You might feel better if you talked about them.”
“And you might feel better if you let this go,” she chuckles, surprisingly without even a hint of bitterness, “Seriously, Ryoma, I’m fine. Let’s just focus on making a nice dinner, okay?”
Ryoma sighs. “Whatever you say, Kaede. I just want you to know that if you need me, I’m here.”
“I know. I’ve always been able to depend on you, Ryoma. Ever since the moment we met.”
His brows furrow at those words. Nice of her to say, but not so easy for him to feel… If she’s that worried and there’s nothing he can do, is she actually being honest? Or is she just trying to placate him? He bites his lip absent-mindedly.
“... Right.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kaede frown, but she seems to decide that it is better to not try to convince him. Her attention sneaks back to their meal, and he decides that it would be better if he were just to grab the miso himself. Once in his hands, he coats the eggplants carefully, watching out of the corner of his eye as Kaede begins to scoop the rice from the pot into a duo of bowls. Nothing more is said between them as they prepare everything. It is best if things remain wordless for now. As soon as they have their food served, they make their way to the couch to sit and eat.
Even that ends up being quiet. It would be excessive to say that there is necessarily tension between the couple, yet there is a sort of pressure between them. After all, Kaede doesn’t want Ryoma to know, but all Ryoma wants to do is ask, so how are they supposed to overcome their competing desires? Is there any way to get through this situation that will leave them both satisfied? In the end, they just resort to not talking about it. Kaede steers conversation in other places instead. Should we make a bowl for Gonta, she asks. Yes, I’ll do that after I finish up here, Ryoma responds. Then there is some silence again, broken only by the sound of chewing. This eggplant is really tasty, Kaede tells him. It was Mio’s recipe, Ryoma admits. That draws the conversation on longer, but only by a few minutes. There is still nothing of true substance, just a lot of beating around the bush. This was not at all the date night that they had planned. Knowing that she was hiding from something from him, Ryoma couldn’t entirely blame her for not wanting to talk, but the constant beating around the bush served to make the conversation all too stale. Listening to tangents about the weather and the sound of chopsticks scraping against your bowl could get old fast.
In a time like this, you would think that the minutes would pass by like hours, yet it seemed that the meal went by in a flash. Before he knows it, Ryoma is done, and he is watching Kaede shovel in the last of her curry. The air between them is still relatively still and quiet, but he can see that by now, Kaede’s pleasant demeanour is beginning to falter. As she looks down at the last of her food, her mouth curves into more of a frown than it does a smile.
“All done?”
It’s a stupid question to ask, Ryoma knows, but it’s the only thing he can think of other than “are you sure you’re okay”. That, he knows, is not something he will get a proper answer to. It’s more than likely that he’ll get the same answer as before – yes, I’m fine. Or, if Kaede is getting particularly sick of the prying, he might be told to stop asking. He’s never seen her get angry about that, but he hasn’t ruled out the possibility. There are plenty of people who just hate to be asked, over and over again, if they’re fine. He would know. When it came to Mio, he used to be one of them.
Kaede nods softly, holding her hand out in expectation. He places his bowl in it carefully, muttering his thanks as she stacks it on her own and rises from her seat. His eyes flicker away as she begins to walk to the kitchen. It would be unnecessary to watch her every move, and if they’re not locked in conversation, he has no need to stare at her. Looking at her would only remind him that she’s in pain, and that he doesn’t seem to be able to do anything about it. He’s half-way through lamenting to himself about what a terrible boyfriend he is when suddenly, a quick gasp snaps him out of his thoughts. His head whips over to Kaede, and he is able to catch the exact moment that the bowls fully slip out of her grasp, falling hard and fast to the floor. Within seconds, the bowls crash against the ground, smashing into pieces of black bone china. Kaede yelps as they make contact, trying to shuffle her bare feet away from the site of the accident.
“Kaede!” Ryoma exclaims, rushing to her side to assess the damage. “Are you okay? You didn’t get cut, did you?”
Kaede doesn’t answer. She just stares down at the chunks of shattered bowls, eyes chasing each piece and splatter of leftover curry or miso. Ryoma places a hand on her lower back and peers up at her face, hoping it is just shock that has struck her silent. As soon as he sees her eyes, however, his heart sinks. In that place he has so often associated with joy, he finds only tears. They are just on the edge of her lashes, and are met with a quivering lip further below, but it will still be a few more seconds before they fall.
He darts down to look at the floor, taking care to examine the space around his girlfriend’s feet. None of the broken china seems to have scraped or cut her, with most of the pieces falling in front of her rather than around or behind her. Definitely not hurt. He is about to ask her again if she’s alright, when suddenly he hears her start to sob.
God, it’s only the first time he’s seen Kaede cry and he already hates it. Someone so kind and warm should never have to experience any pain, even over a broken plate.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks in the softest voice he can muster, brows furrowing as he rubs the part of her back he can reach. “It’s okay, it’s just a couple of bowls.”
Once again, Kaede does not answer. She just keeps crying, fat tears slipping down her cheeks one after the other. It’s like she doesn’t even know Ryoma is there. That makes her crying sting worse. So much for her knowing she could always count on him. He’s practically useless to her right now. He heaves a heavy sigh, shaking his head.
It won’t do him any good to be self-deprecating. He may not be the boyfriend she deserves, but he needs to try to be. He owes her that much.
“It’s not about the bowls, is it?”
Kaede shakes her own head frantically, still whimpering like a little girl. Her hands reach up to swipe at her eyes, creating black streaks with her mascara. He makes a mental note to grab her some make-up wipes in a minute. For now, he just needs to get her comfortable, away from the scene of the crime, so the two of them can have a real talk about what’s happening here.
“Why don’t you go sit down, Kaede? I’ll clean this up, and then we can talk about what’s going on. That sound good?”
For a sliver of a moment, she hesitates, like she’s frozen in place by her tears. It is not until he repeats her name, softer and gentler, that she finds it within herself to nod and sniffle, stepping back from the bowls to let him get a better look at the ground. He wastes no time rushing to the kitchen to grab a garbage bag to put them in, only watching out of the corner of his eye for Kaede’s safe arrival to the couch. Judging by the lack of yelps of pain, he can only assume he made it unharmed.
Just like their meal, the moment between the two of them is most silent, except now what was once conversation has now become the sound of Kaede’s soft crying. Part of Ryoma almost feels guilty for wanting to ignore it, but he already feels as if he is doing that very thing – he just wishes the tears would stop. He’s not so selfish as to wish that Kaede be his happy girlfriend who always supports him and Gonta, but more that she should not have to feel that sort of pain. In the back of his mind he has always known that she is as tortured as they are by what happened. It’s just that he didn’t want her to be. He wishes it didn’t have to be so. And that’s just the problem – if she is as tortured as they are, then this is perhaps the first time she has had the courage to show it.
How close does she need to be to her breaking point for this to be the case?
Ryoma cleans up the remainders of the bowl as best he can, resolving to vacuum up any of the more minute pieces he would have missed. His focus right now, his greatest focus, is joining Kaede on the couch so they can talk about what’s happened. As he went through the process of cleaning, her sobs tempered themselves slightly, but it would be an exaggeration to say that they had been crushed entirely. Her eyes were definitely still wet and her heart still pained. When he is reunited with her, the weight of her emotions has not left her. It is still laying there inside of her, festering, but trying desperately to grasp at the solace that Ryoma is offering. Perhaps part of the pain comes from being unused to comfort when these sensations arise.
It hurts that once he finally rejoins Kaede, the first thing she tries to do is flash him a smile. It is by far the weakest from her that he has ever seen, and the fact that she even feels she needs to do this breaks his heart. What has the world done to this poor, kind woman? They have already won their battle against Tsumugi and Team Danganronpa, but a bitter part of him longs to fight them again, if only to take revenge for her. Alas, he cannot. All he can do is take her hand in his own and stroke her thumb with his, prepared to listen.
“I’m sorry for getting upset,” she whimpers, reaching up to swipe at her eyes, “I know it’s not like me to be so…”
“Don’t apologize.” He cuts in far before he can actually think to do so. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
Kaede says nothing in response, only stares gratefully at him. Why does he get the sense that it was not uncommon, in her other life, to say sorry when she was hurt? Did nobody comfort her? No, no. He shakes the thought from his mind. They must have. Kaede spoke so fondly of her family, in particular her twin sister… This must have come from somewhere else. All he can do is pray that it is not his own failure to support her that has made her feel such things.
Ryoma draws in a deep breath, trying to refocus. Don’t get away from yourself, this is about her. You say you want to take care of this woman, so put your money where your mouth is.
“I want to know what’s wrong, Kaede. You haven’t been yourself today, and I know you didn’t like those bowls enough to be upset that they’re broken.”
Kaede chuckles softly. “They were pretty ugly.”
“Like something your grandmother would own.”
She laughs again, and it’s like music to Ryoma’s ears. Nothing in this moment is perfect, but that little giggle is as close as it’s going to get. He hates that he’ll have to direct her away from this small joy to get back to the source of their problem. It might be that realization that makes him squeeze her hand.
“Now, please tell me what’s going on with you.”
That small smile, the one that felt like such a prize, quickly melts. Her expression is almost pinched, but he can tell it’s not from discontent with him. If she has such little experience expressing her emotions, then this won’t come easy. Learning to be the one person who keeps up a happy face surely took a toll on her, even if she won’t admit it. The heavy sigh expelled from her lungs only serves to confirm his theory.
“Can I… can I start by asking you something?”
Ryoma shrugs. “If it’ll help you.”
“Do you ever… do you ever feel like, I don’t know… responsible for some of the stuff that happened? Like when we were in the Killing Game?” Kaede’s eyes dart down to her lap. “I know we’ve always said that it was Tsumugi who did those things, and Team Danganronpa, but… if what they said is true, then we agreed to it, y’know? We agreed to our friends getting hurt.”
“We didn’t agree to anything,” Ryoma corrects, much more sharply than he intends to, “We didn’t have any control over the agency of the others. We chose for ourselves. We were blinded by that choice, by our passion for something like that. It didn’t seem so wrong then.”
Kaede swallows so thickly in the moment, he almost has to wonder if he’s said exactly the wrong thing. The way her brow quirks doesn’t exactly do his confidence any favours either. Nonetheless, he stills himself. He remembers what this is all for, who this is all for. “You think we didn’t think it was wrong?”
“If something like that was on television, then it would be pretty normalized. Hell, Tsumugi suggested that the whole damn thing was popular. People might not bat an eye, because the participants consented and knew what they were getting into. Nobody would ever really consider what was going on on the other side. I mean, it’s just like when you used to see the Olympics on TV. Everyone thinks they could do it, but nobody considers what you put yourself through.”
“I… guess…”
“I know that probably doesn’t settle your worries. And, honestly… I get it. I can say everything I just said, but I get it. Sometimes you just feel so guilty for surviving, and for doing what you did to survive. You wonder why you deserve it over everyone else.”
Kaede nods, teary-eyed. He tries not to pay too much attention to the quivering of her lip and the crinkling of her chin, lest his fussing upset her more. Right now, it seems best to just let her feel as she needs to. Perhaps the best thing he can do for her right now is let her know that her feelings are understood and heard. “Everyone wasn’t perfect, but they were… they were kind at heart, I think. And at the beginning there, I could feel how badly everyone wanted to survive. I could feel…” She sighs, her voice breaking the longer she goes on. “I could feel them. Even when we started losing people, I could still feel them with us. Their spirits never left me. I couldn’t stop thinking about their loved ones… Their families… It didn’t matter if maybe Rantaro didn’t have all those sisters, or if Angie’s island wasn’t really real… There must be people out there who loved them. There always are.”
Ryoma doesn’t answer, just keeps stroking her thumb, knowing that he has her on the right track. He needs to let her speak, to let her share this fear with the world.
“And sometimes, I just wonder… what did I do to deserve to be here? Do they… do they hate that it was them who died instead of me?”
Her voice lowers to a whisper.
“Sometimes I do. I don’t feel like I have a right to be here. Not when I could have gotten everyone killed.”
Ryoma squeezes her hand tightly. “Nobody’s life is more valuable than yours, Kaede. Nobody’s life is more valuable than anybody else’s, you know that. I wasn’t exactly friends with a lot of ‘em, but I know that if they were here, that’s what they would tell you. They know you did the best you could. You never wanted anyone to die.”
Kaede sniffles. “I just… I wish nobody had to get hurt. I wish they didn’t have to go through it. I wish we’d all been smarter.”
“We were kids, Kaede. Kids are stupid. Teenagers think they’re invincible until suddenly something happens, and they realize that they’re not. I understand how you feel, I really do, but if there’s one thing you taught me, it’s that we can’t let ourselves be bound to our mistakes forever. If we do something bad, and we lose someone, then we owe it to that person to try and be better in the future. And all I’ve seen you do is try and be better for the people you left behind.”
“I wish I could have saved them,” she sobs, “I wish I could have done things differently.”
“But you couldn’t.”
She stares at him wide-eyed, blinking at him in disbelief.
“I couldn’t either. Neither could Gonta. Even Shuichi, in his last moments when he tried to save us from his… his own mistakes, couldn’t save us completely. He could only save the ones who were left. And I know he would regret that it could only be the three of us, but the fact of the matter is, that was the best he could do. He trusted us to keep doing better on behalf of everyone. If he didn’t, he’d have left us to die.”
There is a pregnant pause that stands between them, but for the first time in this whole conversation, Ryoma doesn’t doubt what he’s saying. All of the heart skips of panic and twistings of his belly have melted away now. All he cares about is making sure she knows. She needs to know that she did all that she could, that she did more than enough.
“All of their hopes are pinned on us, Kaede. That’s why we survived.”
Kaede doesn’t answer, just turns her head down. For a moment, he thinks he’s got her figured out and maybe she’s soothed, but another hiccup reminds him that it isn’t so. At any moment she could burst from his grasp and run off to her room, determined to never speak to him again. He won’t let that happen. There is still more to say, more to do to soothe her. He has to soothe her.
“How can you… say all this, but say you understand…?”
“Because I learned from someone that sometimes, even if everything is dark, you need to look for the light. I’ve heard a lot of lies in my life, mostly coming from myself, so I learned to find the truths, even if they’re hard. I can’t let the lies rule over me, and I can’t let those demons win.”
Ryoma slides his hand along the underside of Kaede’s jaw, turning her face towards him gently. It still breaks his heart to see her beautiful eyes gleaming with such sadness. Any tear that falls now will be wiped away by his thumb on her cheek.
“You taught me that, Kaede.”
She presses her face further into his hand, holding onto his wrist. It doesn’t seem like she has much more to say, so he just lets her rest her cheek against him, stroking it comfortingly. Before long her eyes flutter closed, and he finds himself sitting in wait, listening to the sound of her shaky breaths. What a perfect creature. In spite of all their circumstances, he is glad that he and Kaede were brought together. He just hopes that with moments like these, he can ensure that it is worth her while as well.
He's not sure how long they sit there, drinking in the comfort of each other’s presence and the ideologies they share, but the quietude is peaceful. Over time, Kaede’s tears begin to dry and her breaths stabilize. Everything most definitely is not okay now, but it’s better, and Ryoma thinks that it is a victory in and of itself. He knows he could never heal her guilt entirely. The best thing he can do is support her as she fights through it, just as she has done for him. He thought he would never love again after losing Mio, but today has more than proven to him that he would do anything for Kaede. So he’ll embrace this quiet, and let her tell him what she needs.
In the end, the answer ends up being that she needs a surprise appearance from Gonta.
The apartment had been so quiet that the moment he swings the door open, the two of them jump a little – which, hilariously, also makes Gonta jump. For a moment a flicker of alarm catches in Gonta’s expression, wondering if he caught them in the midst of an intimate moment he wasn’t supposed to see, but it fades when he realizes that the two are just sitting on the couch.
“Gonta!” Kaede exclaims, pushing a smile. It is not symmetrical or perfect, but it’s stronger than any of the other ones that she’s given Ryoma today. That’s another victory, he thinks to himself. “You’re back early.”
The bug enthusiast nods carefully, placing his bug catching box down on the counter. Ryoma tries not to cringe – he respects Gonta’s affection, but he really doesn’t want bugs where the food goes. “Gonta is sorry to interrupt; Gonta had good luck today, found dung beetle friend much faster than expected.”
Ugh. Ryoma tries even harder not to cringe. Not just a bug where the food goes, but a bug fascinated by fecal matter. Blegh. “It’s okay,” Ryoma says, trying not to sound strained so Gonta won’t be hurt by his disgust, “We were just…”
He glances to Kaede. It would be easiest to be honest with Gonta about how she’s feeling, but they are her feelings. It is ultimately her call to make. She can say whatever she wants to say, and he’ll support her.
“Ryoma was comforting me.” She places a hand on Ryoma’s thigh. “I’ve been having… a hard time.”
“Something is hurting Kaede?” Gonta asks thoughtfully, his brows furrowing.
She nods gently. “Yes. I’ve been having a lot of trouble with my memories. I feel guilty over things that happened, when we were in the Killing School Life… I didn’t know how to talk about it. You and Ryoma have both been so open and honest with me about the way it makes you feel, and I… hadn’t been doing it back, and we realized that that was hurting me.”
“Yes, bottling up hurts Kaede. It hurts Gonta, too. Good that Ryoma and Kaede talked.” He pushes a smile. “Can Gonta help?”
He gestures at his bug cage on the counter.
“Maybe Kaede like to meet dung beetle, learn few fun facts?”
With one last exchange of gestures, a smile crosses Kaede’s face as well. Then, they both turn back to Kaede.
“Sure, bring ‘em on over,” Ryoma sighs, finding it within even himself to put on a grin, “And tell us everything you know about him.”
Leave it to Gonta to make sure things stayed perfectly imperfect. A failed date, a poop-loving bug in their home, and a lot of tears… but progress is progress, and Ryoma cannot be prouder that they were able to make it. As Gonta opens up the cage and starts talking about his dung beetle, gently guiding him around the cage with his finger, Ryoma feels Kaede’s head lean on his own. At any other time, it might not mean much of anything other than a sign of affection, but today… Today he thinks it means that he did good.
