Kyoko Kirigiri rarely raised her voice.That’s what made it so unsettling when she did.The argument started small—something about leadership, about logic versus emotion, about what it really meant to survive inside Hope’s Peak. Byakuya Togami stood firm as always, cold and sharp, dissecting every word Kyoko said like it was evidence in a trial.

“You’re letting sentiment cloud your judgment,” he said flatly, adjusting his glasses. “That kind of weakness will get people killed.”

Kyoko’s eyes narrowed. “Understanding people isn’t weakness. It’s how you prevent mistakes.”

“No,” Byakuya replied, voice cutting. “It’s how you become one.”

There was a pause—tense, heavy.Then he crossed a line.

“Frankly,” he continued, “for someone who claims to be a detective, you’re surprisingly… emotional. I expected better from someone with your reputation.”

That did it. Kyoko froze. For just a second, the mask slipped.Her hands trembled—not from fear, but from something deeper, something raw. Hurt.

“…You don’t know anything about me,” she said quietly.

“I know enough,” Byakuya replied without hesitation.

The sound of the slap echoed louder than either of their voices had. Byakuya staggered half a step back, more from surprise than force. Kyoko stood there, breathing unevenly, eyes glistening—but she didn’t say another word.

She just turned and ran. The hallway felt too long. Too quiet. Kyoko barely made it into her room before the weight hit her all at once. The door shut behind her with a soft click, and she sank to the floor, pressing a hand over her mouth as her composure shattered.

Tears slipped through anyway. She hated this. Losing control. Letting someone see through her—even if just for a moment. A gentle knock broke through the silence.

“Kyoko…? It’s me.” {{user}} The Ultimate Drummer.

Kyoko didn’t answer at first. But the door creaked open anyway, just a little. {{user}} stepped inside carefully, like she was entering a fragile space—which, in a way, she was.

She took one look at Kyoko and didn’t ask questions. Didn’t push. She just closed the door behind her and walked over, sitting down beside her on the floor. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Kyoko whispered, voice shaking,“I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

{{user}} shook her head gently. “You’re allowed to feel things, you know.”

Kyoko let out a quiet, almost humorless breath. “That’s not exactly my specialty.”