[ though he doesn’t know it, makato isn’t a stranger to turning up someplace with his memories of the past being an unreachable blur. perhaps that’s why he approaches the situation with a bigger sense of ease than he would have -
if he only knew. ]
Uh… my name? But I don’t think— [ he didn’t have a reservation here, did he? why would he have come to a place like this in the first place? the setting wasn’t something he thought he’d ever be drawn to… but a quick glance down at his western attire (white, long-sleeved shirt, brown vest, a red bandana around his neck, brown chaps and thick, pointed boots) forced him to believe that maybe he had intended to come here. not, not even maybe—he definitely had chosen to come here…
right? ]
…Makoto Naegi.
[ and lo and behold, he receives a key and his room number. maybe… maybe he didn’t know himself as well as he thought he did.
…and that was just a little concerning.
but not enough to dissuade him from giving the receptionist a half smile and turning towards the lobby. maybe finding someone to talk to would clear up the gaps (the many gaps) in his memory. he'd find a familiar face and it'd all come rushing back. yeah… he was sure of it. ]
all-night diner - daytime }
[ who could turn down free pie?
makoto had heard about the diner and its famous free pie a little after settling in. after checking out his room, he’d decided to loiter around the lobby to try to remember why he’d decided to vacation… visit…? well, whatever it was, why he'd come to such a destination as this one. there was no sense of urgency to figure it out, however; he almost felt as if it were silly that he was trying so hard to remember. obviously he’d had a purpose, and now he was here.
he doesn’t remember who he overheard say something about the pie, but it had reached his ears and not ten minutes later he was sitting in a booth (it was very comfortable, he noticed), sipping on some water while he awaiting his treat.
it doesn’t take too long for it to be brought to the table, and the second it’s placed in front of him he stops drinking abruptly.
what was he doing?
had he really thought it be okay to accept free pie without sharing?! ]
H-Hey wait! [ his words don’t reach the person who’d brought him the pie—they’d almost seemed to disappear as fast as they’d shown up. but now what did he do?
he sets the glass down and grabs his plate of pie, standing up as he does so, almost frantically looking around him. his eyes eventually catch sight of someone - maybe they’d just come in, or perhaps they’d been there the entire time. it didn’t matter; all that did matter was— ]
You, uh… do you like pie? I think it’s— [ he glances down at the treat and studies it for a moment ] —apple? Or maybe… [ he squints, but it’s hard to tell when the brown exterior is so professionally scattered with brown, probably tasty, crumbs ] …pecan? I can’t… really tell.
makoto naegi // dangan ronpa
[ though he doesn’t know it, makato isn’t a stranger to turning up someplace with his memories of the past being an unreachable blur. perhaps that’s why he approaches the situation with a bigger sense of ease than he would have -
if he only knew. ]
Uh… my name? But I don’t think— [ he didn’t have a reservation here, did he? why would he have come to a place like this in the first place? the setting wasn’t something he thought he’d ever be drawn to… but a quick glance down at his western attire (white, long-sleeved shirt, brown vest, a red bandana around his neck, brown chaps and thick, pointed boots) forced him to believe that maybe he had intended to come here. not, not even maybe—he definitely had chosen to come here…
right? ]
…Makoto Naegi.
[ and lo and behold, he receives a key and his room number. maybe… maybe he didn’t know himself as well as he thought he did.
…and that was just a little concerning.
but not enough to dissuade him from giving the receptionist a half smile and turning towards the lobby. maybe finding someone to talk to would clear up the gaps (the many gaps) in his memory. he'd find a familiar face and it'd all come rushing back. yeah… he was sure of it. ]
all-night diner - daytime }
[ who could turn down free pie?
makoto had heard about the diner and its famous free pie a little after settling in. after checking out his room, he’d decided to loiter around the lobby to try to remember why he’d decided to vacation… visit…? well, whatever it was, why he'd come to such a destination as this one. there was no sense of urgency to figure it out, however; he almost felt as if it were silly that he was trying so hard to remember. obviously he’d had a purpose, and now he was here.
he doesn’t remember who he overheard say something about the pie, but it had reached his ears and not ten minutes later he was sitting in a booth (it was very comfortable, he noticed), sipping on some water while he awaiting his treat.
it doesn’t take too long for it to be brought to the table, and the second it’s placed in front of him he stops drinking abruptly.
what was he doing?
had he really thought it be okay to accept free pie without sharing?! ]
H-Hey wait! [ his words don’t reach the person who’d brought him the pie—they’d almost seemed to disappear as fast as they’d shown up. but now what did he do?
he sets the glass down and grabs his plate of pie, standing up as he does so, almost frantically looking around him. his eyes eventually catch sight of someone - maybe they’d just come in, or perhaps they’d been there the entire time. it didn’t matter; all that did matter was— ]
You, uh… do you like pie? I think it’s— [ he glances down at the treat and studies it for a moment ] —apple? Or maybe… [ he squints, but it’s hard to tell when the brown exterior is so professionally scattered with brown, probably tasty, crumbs ] …pecan? I can’t… really tell.