Archive of Our Own

The weather is pleasantly cool this morning, a striking contrast to the almost unbearably hot humidity of yesterday. Naegi stands awkwardly upon Kirigiri’s front porch, after having knocked weakly at the door with the back of his hand a couple of times. He suspects she hasn’t heard the initial sound of him making his presence known, and is just considering knocking again—when, as if on cue, the door opens.

His girlfriend steps out, dressed in a floral skirt and a white blouse, the sleeves of which are rolled up to just above her elbows. Naegi swallows, and tries to remember to keep his mouth closed instead of gaping at her like some sort of half-wit, but it proves to be a rather difficult task when she’s so pleasing to the eye.

As Kirigiri turns to shut the door, he suddenly notices her outstretched hand, gloved in something other than its usual leather.

“Ah, Kyouko-san—you’re wearing the gloves I bought you!” Naegi’s so pleased that his speech leaves him in an excited burst. She turns to face him again, a dull blush creeping up her neck.

(Her pale complexion makes it less subtle than she would like, however.)

“I think you’ll agree that wearing leather on a day such as this would be impractical and uncomfortable.” She answers simply, but there’s a small smile playing around her lips. “So. Where do you plan to take me, Makoto-kun?”

“Oh,” He looks a little sheepish. “W-well, I thought we could just... take a walk... and see where we end up?”

An hour or so later, the sun is beating down with a renewed intensity.

They find themselves resting amongst a grassy field, one lone maple tree acting as makeshift shelter from the heat; a heat seemingly capable of wilting plants and drying up rivers in its wake.

Away from the public eye, Kirigiri’s gloves are removed, and beneath the shade the lack of material is somewhat cooling to the scars on her hands. Naegi rests close by, his back against the tree trunk. He doesn’t trust himself to fully lie down, since they’ve just eaten and he’s beginning to feel a sense of drowsiness take its course.

He turns his head to one side, and his breath catches in his throat.

Kirigiri is on her back, eyes closed, her long silvery hair fanning out around her. Dappled sunshine filters through the leaves above, adorning her in variegated golden light. Her expression is a far cry from the usual serious regard of everything within her line of sight— she looks peaceful, her features soft and relaxed rather than tensed in concentration.

The sight of her practically makes his mouth water.

There are enough buttons of her blouse undone to expose the skin of her neck, shoulders, and the space above her breast. Perhaps—well, perhaps it’s strange of him to find the sight as enticing as he does, but Kirigiri’s customary wardrobe is an abundance of high-collared shirts and stiff-looking jackets, so seeing her dressed in any alternative is something of a scarcity.

(He realizes he’s talking about her as though he hasn’t seen her naked before—he has. He definitely has.)

Naegi crawls towards her without saying a word, and once he’s close enough, he notices she’s broken into a slight sweat. It’s nothing heavy, but enough for her slender legs to glisten in what little light they’ve caught, and for the pink skin that stretches over her jutting clavicle to take on a subtle shine.

He finds himself hovering over Kirigiri’s semi-motionless frame, and before he can change his mind out of embarrassment and scramble off back to where he was previously sitting, she draws both legs up and traps him in his place.

“...Makoto-kun, what are you doing?”

He’d thought, for a split second, that he’d actually managed to catch her unawares—but even that had been more wishful thinking than genuine expectations. Naegi chuckles nervously, but the look she wears makes him conscious that she‘s waiting for an answer.

“I’m acting as your source of shade, Kyouko-san!” he hopes a silly reply of that sort might settle it, but her gaze drifts up towards the leaves above the two of them, then back down to fix upon his face, unconvinced. Her legs still hold his waist in a viselike grip—and he’s not getting out of it so easily.

“I won’t laugh, if that’s what you’re thinking,” She tells him, sincere. Naegi feels himself blush.

“Well...” he would find this considerably easier if they weren’t in such close proximity, “I just glanced over, and I—I couldn’t help noticing how pretty you looked!” Unable to meet her eyes, he continues, “I thought you were asleep... I wanted to ki—uh, catch you by surprise. For once.”

“What was that?” The corner of Kirigiri’s mouth quirks as if she’s trying to suppress a smile. “Something about kissing me?”

“I’ll admit, that was the plan.” he winces slightly. “Kyouko-san... would you mind letting go of me ...?”

Looking contemplative, there’s a long pause before she answers. Naegi is thankful that the surrounding area has been relatively undisturbed since their arrival, as the position they’ve ended up in is fairly suggestive and would definitely allow any passers-by to get the wrong idea.

“I will let go of you, but on one condition.” Kirigiri’s hands slide up his forearms and reach his shoulders.

“Eh...? W-what—?”

“You have to kiss me.”

Naegi sees absolutely no problem with this. Leaning down, he presses his lips to hers, but it’s more of a quick peck than anything else.

Despite his fulfilment of her demand, her thighs are still locking him right where he is, and he’d think it a very impressive hold if he wasn’t beginning to lose feeling in everything below his waist.

“Makoto-kun, I meant a proper kiss.” One small hand slides from his shoulder and down to his chest; a simple movement full of implications. Tugging a little at the front of his shirt, she stares at him in silence.

It’s hard for Naegi to picture her as that same cold, reserved girl he had once admired from afar when she fixes him with such a blazing look.

He kisses her for a second time, and swears he can almost taste her warmth; her grip on the front of his shirt tightens and he feels the fingers of her other hand curl around the back of his neck. Kirigiri sighs against his mouth, and he cups one of her cheeks, upper body balanced by forearms that are pressed so firmly into the grass and the earth beneath them that they will surely leave an impression there.

It is as though his entire world is reduced to kissing Kirigiri. The first time this had happened, he’d been worrying profusely. Inexperienced and wishing he was a little taller or a little better built or just that tiny bit more—something, he had worked himself up and very nearly lost his nerve. But she had taken the lead, reassuring yet as curious as he was, and in a matter of minutes timidity had become something foreign.

Honestly, Naegi would be perfectly contented to just stay here and kiss her like this for hours on end. She opens her mouth and pulls at his lower lip; holds it between her teeth; bites it. The sharp sensation sends a shock of feeling down his spine.

Once he feels her smile, he realizes that perhaps this is Kirigiri’s way of trying to be playful.

He hadn’t noticed until now, but she must have slackened her hold on him almost as soon as they had begun kissing. He doesn’t want to move away anymore, though.

His lips are pressed against her jaw; her throat; the junction of her neck and shoulder; she pets his hair affectionately, and every other breath shakes. Once he moves lower than her collarbone, however, her voice stops him in mid-movement.

“Makoto-kun... ”

Naegi looks up swiftly. “Did I do something wrong?”

He mentally backtracks over his actions, trying to work out what he might have possibly done to upset her, but the next thing she says has his train of thought coming to a very sudden halt.

“I thought you were... the way you were kissing me,” her expression doesn’t falter, but her voice is the giveaway, “it’s the same way you kiss me before you—“

She breaks off, but even if she hadn’t it would have made very little difference. Kirigiri had said his name not as a warning, but as a form of encouragement, because she’d made the assumption that he’d been planning on getting low enough to—

Well, to hitch up her skirt and go to town on her, is the only way he can think to put it.

Naegi sits up right away, stuttering and shaking his head vigorously.  “No, no! I didn’t—I wasn’t—t-that’s not what I—”

Kirigiri cuts him off abruptly. “It’s not as though I’m completely opposed to the idea.” Her tone is careful, little more than a stage whisper, and she leans up on her elbows, watching him.

He says nothing, still blushing, but can’t help thinking that she’s set him up for this. It’s very clever of her, planting that idea into his head – it’s like she’s trying to tempt him.

Or maybe Naegi’s got it all wrong. After all, this girl is an enigma, but he hopes that he can figure her out all of her mysteries one day. He’s getting there already.

For now, he’s got a plan.

 He looks up cheerfully at her, and she only has time to frown in confusion before he’s wriggled down to her waist and pushed her blouse up, kissing the smooth skin above her navel.

There’s a sharp inhale and Kirigiri tenses up instantly. Naegi kisses everywhere, his fingers tickling the edge of her ribcage, hair casting faint shadows over her stomach. The sun is burning the back of his neck, but he doesn’t even think about the need for shade, not now that he’s pressing his lips to every place below her chest and above her hips like it would be a crime to miss even a single bit of skin.

What distracts him is her sudden laughter.

Kirigiri chuckles occasionally and smiles at him a lot more often nowadays, but he’s never heard her laughter.

He hadn’t even noticed it at first—but it had trickled out of her, low and sweet and soft, her head tipped back and her eyes closed. The warmth of the sound washes over Naegi, enough to make him shiver, and he props himself up to watch her.

She looks so happy. The happiest he’s ever seen her.

Kirigiri, beautiful and on her back and brimming with emotion.

Naegi would keep kissing her if he didn’t want to risk missing this. Hell, he doesn’t even know why she’s laughing, but he sure isn’t going to be the one to stop her.

It subsides after a few moments, but only once she’s taken a few deep breaths. He adjusts her blouse for her before picking himself up and sitting cross-legged at her side, while Kirigiri remains lying. On impulse, he takes one of her hands in his own and holds it, his thumb tracing small circles into her palm.

“You looked really cute when you were laughing like that, Kyouko-san!” He beams at her. “I hope I can see that side of you more often...”

At these words, she sits up and smoothes down her shirt, looking as dignified as one can after having collapsed with laughter barely a minute ago. “Makoto-kun, you should consider your choice of actions more carefully in the future.”

Kirigiri leaves no time for him to protest before she’s pinned him to the ground. He falls flat onto his back and her hips sink into the base of his stomach. With her weight on top of him, she only has to wriggle slightly and the friction of the movement shoots straight to his groin.

“Hey... w-what are you doing...?” Naegi asks her, somewhat anxiously.

She ignores his question. Her face is curved into the hollow of his neck so he can’t parse her thoughts through her expression (although, it’s not like he's often able to do so anyway).

“I’m sorry, but I can’t forgive you so easily.” He doesn’t understand what she’s referring to, but her words fall against his skin in a way that has it crawling with goose bumps. “Catching me off guard and kissing me like that... How terrible of you, Makoto-kun.”

“Huh... but, you were laughing! I thought—“

“It tickled me.” He can feel her lips moving, ghosting against his jaw. “It was a natural reaction, to laugh like that.” She sits up, still on top of him.

Should he be panicking? He’s unsure. But her pokerfaced stare has him almost recoiling.

“Never act without thinking of the consequences.”

He has himself trying to prepare for whatever punishment he suspects she’s about to serve out, until she begins tickling him.

It’s a strangely methodical manner of tickling, as she doesn’t have to wrestle him down, but he’s squirming like a fish out of water as her fingers move over his neck, shoulders, under his arms, along his sides, over his ribs, and finally across his chest.

Naegi is in hysterics the entire time, twisting about underneath her, in fits of laughter so uncontrollable that it ultimately turns silent. Kirigiri says nothing, merely surveying him with a tender look.

The sun is setting by the time they decide to leave. Kirigiri slips her gloves back on, and Naegi laces his fingers through hers.

They walk home together, blanketed under hot, salty summer air. He talks and she listens for the most part, as per usual, and it’s only when they reach her house that he finds himself with nothing left to say. His confidence from earlier seems to have dwindled a little, and he’s trying to think of a subtle way to ask if she would like to do this again sometime soon, but she interrupts his consideration with a question of her own.

“Makoto-kun, would you like to stay with me tonight? My grandfather is currently away on business,” she adds, “so we won’t have to worry about being disturbed.”

He answers without hesitation; an immediate ‘yes’. She smiles at him in reply.

 Reflecting on it later, Naegi doesn’t think he has ever loved anyone more.