Nagito And Kokichi Novels & Stories

“You do?” Nikolai nods his head once. “Let them handle it, and once you’re done resting, everything will be ready for you, all right?” He checks his watch and then steps forward to plant a kiss to the top of Akio’s head. “I’ve got a call. You good?” He places a finger under Akio’s chin and tilts his head up so their eyes align. Akio smiles, feeling his heart swarm with affection. “I’m good.”

Eiko sat seiza, precise, silver-streaked chignon unyielding, fox-sharp features softened only by pearl earrings, swaying judgment. I lowered, opposite an athletic frame, folding disciplined despite the South Side itch to bolt, hazel eyes locking her piercing dark. She poured matcha in a slow ritual, jade-ringed fingers steady as katana strikes, bowl extended in two-handed reverence, masking steel. "Nia Whitaker," she said, Tokyo clip weaving English silk, "you intrigue. Kenji's crisis queen, dismantling his careful chaos. Drink." Bitter green coated my tongue, grounding the unease prickling my scar above the brow. "Intrigue's mutual, Eiko-san. Inviting the enemy to tea? Bold play for a woman