#pinnacleofexcellence

“Then should I hire someone that remembers in case you’ve forgotten?”

“That isn’t necessary.”

the  months  have  been  long  &  unkind .   but  it’s  an  obtrusiveness  she  can  temper  without  acridity :   in  healthier ,   more  productive  ways  than  slamming  her  self - destruct  and  waiting  for  the  fuse  to  taper .   she  doesn’t  mind  the  end  of  the  world ,   she’s  found .

civil  war ?   manageable .   endemic  to  her  routine ,   and  not  a  moment’s  pause  to  question  it .   curbing  constant  dealings  with  future  foundation’s  bureaucracy  has  done  wonders  for  her  productivity .   her  stamina .   her  ‘ self  esteem , ’   whatever  that  is .

but  fukawa  has  anticipated  this  visit  —  like  she  anticipates  the  blue - moon  correspondence  that  togami  lauds  her  way .   seeing  him  —  properly  —  after  all  these  months  stirs  a  new  breed  of  anxiety  beneath  her  skin .   not  for  the  equivocal  safety ,  but  —

—  for  hers .   for  her  heart’s .   whether  its  preoccupations  have  perpetuated  the  time  and  distance  imposed  by  circumstance .   presentiment  with  the  insidious  notion  that  time  has  not  been  so  kind  to  his  regard  of  her .   the  one  hatred  she  truly  couldn’t  withstand .

                     eyes  fixed  over  the  crest  of  towa  tower ,   fukawa  does  what  is  organic :   waits .

“Oh-ho? Togami-kun, Don’t mind me, don’t mind me, i am just reading some stuff” She was not really lying either. It was just another project she needed to do. Something that does not involve despair for once (she did find it incredibly easy and boring, so there was no enthusiasm to be found). Blue hues focused on the fellow classmate, who entered the room. It was his favorite place as far as she is concerned. She understood him to a point. No one is here to bother her, even that annoying older twin of hers. A smile gew on her face. That annoying sort. The one free from care and any sort of seriousness. Of course he won’t talk with her. Why would he? There is no way the mighty heir to the Togami family (soon to be completely destroyed) would just go off his high horse. However, there is a point in trying. For once. she can annoy him a little. 

“Togami, a word?”

The request was chilly in its formality as she stepped into the library... and with good reason. Togami’s blatant disregard for common decency had put the SHSL Detective off on more than occasion, not to mention the way he had tampered with the crime scene of Fujisaki’s murder. Had she been able to do so, she would have arrested him for such--influential connections be damned. Since such was not possible, however, she had been forced to stomach his presence, clashing with him during the class trials and coming out the victor more often than not. However, with what she had learned after Oogami’s suicide and what she had lifted from the Headmaster’s office... as much as she hated to admit it?

         “Togami-kun! You gotta tell me what you want for Christmas so I can get you something. It’s coming up really soon, and me and Kirigiri-chan are planning to get gifts for everyone.”

Sunlight beamed through semi opened blinds, though they weren’t open due to someone opening them. They simply rested that way, reflecting off of any surface that was in their path. Eyes fluttered open, and landed upon clock that rested nailed on the wall. Nearly 7am. She had slept in, at least for a morning after. Eyes were drawn to the figure that stood in front of large window, she hadn’t expected him to still be there when she had awoken. Perhaps that was because she rose earlier than most, though. 

She stirred, and sat up in the bed, only for sheets and comforter to be tossed carelessly to the side, though not off the bed. Slinging legs off the side of the mattress, she would stretch, and eyes would land upon the clothing she had worn from the day before, and had she not been as experienced as she was, this walk of shame would have potentially bothered her. Instead, that was the furthest thing from her mind. 

Her movements were quiet, and fingers ran through curls, free from the band that held them up, Bending down to grab at clothing, she was caught off guard by the clearing of throat from the man she had said -- was that an appropriate word? Not in the least. Moaned, screamed, both more appropriate terms -- his name so many times the night before.