[A/N] Chapter titles are "Life is Better" followed by what's written. Also, any sign of harassment and hate will not be tolerated, whether it be to me or to any of my shipper friends. This is for people who have had to suffer through stuff like that, so I'm not about to let that happen here. Thank you very much! Hope you enjoy!

Sometimes I still think about the killing school life. Sometimes I can still so vividly recall the bodies of our classmates. Even though Toko couldn't see most of it, the beautiful, wonderful, and... utterly insane Jill held most of the grizzly memories. It's been quite a few years since the tragedy came to a close. Thanks to the immense amounts of mental care available to former Future Foundation members, the two of them integrated, so I have all of their memories. It was a terrifying experience, at first. They were exposed to things they didn't want to see. But hey. Life is better now. Now I feel like I understand myself and others so much better. I currently go by Eiko, a name that means long-lived child, sort of as an homage to the classmates who didn't make it (or, alternatively, the men Jill killed before we were able to curb her tendencies). You know, I'm literary like that! I didn't get named the Ultimate Writing Prodigy for nothing! Even though I can't help myself but write things a bit more vulgar than Toko did, it's still been deemed valid by audiences, so I guess that's what matters. It's just been more entertaining that way.

I cackle a bit under my breath as my fantasies fill my head. Swiftly, I prevent the pot of nabe I made from sloshing around too much. That was almost disastrous!

"What are you giggling about?" Makoto smirks. He and Komaru decided to pick me up for our "survivor reunion," so he's driving.

"Oh, nothing. Relax, Big Mac!" What? The nickname is endearing and he hasn't told me no, so we're sticking with it.

"You're doing the thing again, aren't you?" Komaru pipes in, glancing at me knowingly through the rear-view mirror. The smell of the casserole they made together wafts through the car.

"H-Hey, my d-delusions are helpful for my w-writing!"

"But you're not writing!" she playfully points out.

"Isn't it obvious? When I'm not writing, I have to be thinking about writing! T-Twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five," I laugh guiltily.

Eventually, we pull into annoying swimmer girl— Ahem, I mean Hina's— donut shop. She closed it for the day to make room for all of us to hang out. It's swim-themed. All the donuts are named after swimmers, or strokes, or... I donut even know some of them. Oh God, I hate myself for that.

Instantly, Makoto practically flies over to Kyoko, chatting her up like it's been years even though they still talk frequently. I notice that Hina's medals are hung all over the walls. Formerly, I would've considered this a blatant attempt to brag. About something as air-headed as swimming, nonetheless. But I'm trying to be less cynical. And hey, why NOT show them off? From the little I've experienced, she's been working hard as hell since the foundation disbanded so she could run a business AND reach for an Olympic gold. If anything, she's the most ambitious of us all. "W-Wow, Hina! This is seriously impressive!" I exclaim as I place my food next to Hiro's Nikujaga, Kyoko's tofu soba noodles, and the donut platter Hina set up.

"Aw, thanks, Eiko! Want to hear about some of my races?"

"Alright! Sounds like a plan!" Hiro chimes in, randomly pumped for no good reason.

"Sure. I don't mind l-learning!" Yep. That's it, Eiko. Be positive. You're not Miss Doom and Gloom anymore.

The stories are actually unexpectedly interesting! Maybe I'm actually NOT so doom and gloom!

That all changes the instant he steps in.

Byakuya Togami.

I can't help but bite hard on the inside of my lips as I turn away. I didn't realize how difficult it would be to see him again. That entire situation was hot garbage. Toko pissed him off. Jill both disgusted and scared him. And he, in turn, dragged them through the mud. It was a little better once Komaru and I saved him from the Warriors of Hope. But that journey also, in turn, helped me realize that I was worth more. We haven't even spoken since the tragedy officially ended.

I'm over him. I'm so very over him.

But there's that stupid little voice quivering with excitement in the back of my mind. Master!!! Shut up, Eiko!

"Hello, everyone. Yasuhiro. Hina. Kyoko. Naegi siblings. And it's... Eiko, now, right?" he greets as he sits down next to me. Next to me. He. Made. The. Choice. To. Sit. Next. To. Me. Granted, it was the only chair left, but normally in this situation, he would make someone switch with him! And how does HE know they integrated?!

"Y-Yeah, that's right. Hey, Byakuya," I respond, fiddling with my hands and looking to Komaru. She gives me a nervous shrug while he takes off his coat.

We all discuss what's been going on in our lives, some of which I knew already and some of which I didn't. Hiro decided to open up a "Tragedy Museum," exhibiting all sorts of things that he somehow got his grubby hands on. Komaru donated the hacking gun, Makoto let him display the remote that set us free... there are hundreds of photographs taken by all sorts of people. There's even a "Neo World Experience." At first, I worried that this might make people fall into despair. But it turns out, it's just a pretty effective way to keep history from repeating itself. Hiro's even made enough money to pay back his debt and not have his kidneys stolen.

Kyoko keeps relatively quiet about what she's been doing, but from the intel I've heard, she's a P.I. now, focusing on missing people and homicides. I honestly can't believe she can still stand murder cases, but she's always been a lot more... stable... than the rest of us. Makoto joins her when he isn't too busy being Headmaster of the new Hope's Peak Academy.

Komaru got to live as a regular student. She's in university now, studying poli-sci and drawing up manga in her spare time. Of course, I knew that already. She is my friend after all. Hehehe. That word still makes me a bit tingly.

Ma— I mean Byakuya— has been working to rebuild the Togami clan. He says it's a little bit more difficult than he expected (which is fair, given that the economy isn't exactly where it was), but that he's been making progress. He says things so vaguely. Despite not being nearly as extravagantly wealthy as before, he still has that aura. That obvious superiority complex. But... it's subtler, I guess. I can admit that. There's this earnestness in his eyes that wasn't there back in the Killing Game.

And he asks me questions. What have you been working on, Eiko? Still in the romance genre? Are your interests still the same now that you've integrated? How did you pick your name? Sure, they're valid questions that any of them could've theoretically asked me. But this is very suspicious. Why is he suddenly showing even a modicum of interest? It's difficult to keep my composure. I want to yell, or ask something rude/lewd at the same time, or start giggling like a nervous wreck.

Even despite this, I make it through the reunion unscathed. The food works well in the cold weather (did I mention he freaking brought A4 Wagyu for literally all of us?! Like what the heck?!), and nobody gets overly hostile. Eventually, we all go outside and hang out in the empty parking lot, despite the winter cold.

I don't have a mental breakdown, thanks to my good friend lemon chuhai. I half expect Byakuya to call me low-brow or something to that effect for my choice of alcohol, but it doesn't come.

What comes is a playful, "I hope you're not planning on driving home."

"First of all, I'm not some d-drunkard! Secondly, no. Makoto offered to drive me both ways. And don't you d-dare try to t-tempt him with something pricey. He's too innocent to drink," I tease back, surprised at how easily my response came.

"Wow, something we can agree on. How rare," he remarks dryly with a cocky smirk.

"Wait, I heard my name!" Makoto tears his attention away from the others. They're playing Count and Catch with a hacky sack that Hiro produced out of nowhere.

"No you didn't. Go back to playing," Byakuya dismisses with a wave of his hand.

"Love you!" I call out to him as he quirks up a suspicious eyebrow.

And then I see a flash of a confused expression from Byakuya. "Not that way. Obviously. Big Mac may be a cutie patootie, but we're not a thing," I inform him.

"No, I figured not. Frankly, I'm just surprised to hear you say it at all."

"W-Well... it's getting e-easier to say it and believe it. Life is better now."

"I suppose you're correct about that, too."

The round of the game ends, and at that moment, an abundantly cheerful Komaru rushes over to me. "C'mon, Eiko!! Play with us! Bet you can't beat me!"

I wasn't originally interested, but at this point, I can't help it. "Is that a challenge I hear? Yes, yes!" I give him one last cursory glance, sort of as an invitation. He'll just be watching us all alone otherwise. But I should've figured. Byakuya Togami does not play children's games.

We play a few rounds, and eventually, it's time to leave. My breath dances through the frigid air, clouding my view of him as he walks to his car. I hesitantly take a few steps. Maybe if I can get a cab fast enough, I can secretly trail him and figure out where he—

"Eiko, I know what you're thinking," my best friend quietly whispers. Her eyes are surprisingly fierce.

"I know, I know. They a-aren't good thoughts to h-have. And anyways... it's n-not like he ever apologized. Not like I ever apologized either. Shit!"

"Don't worry. I'm sure your thoughts will settle when you wake up tomorrow! Everything's gonna be just fine!"

"You're so optimistic. But hey, I suppose you're right every once in a while, so I guess I'll trust you."

"Every once in a while?!"

"Hey, guys, c'mon! It's freezing out here!" Makoto squeals as he unlocks the car door.

"Race ya!" I tell Komaru, getting a head start before she can react.

This is one of those moments where I'm really glad to be me. Toko would've overanalyzed the hell out of this situation, to the point of self-loathing. Jill... would've gotten gross about it. But me? Maybe I can actually deal with this.