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zenonaa · 11 days

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Fandom: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Dangan Ronpa Series Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fukawa Toko/Togami Byakuya, Fukawa Toko & Naegi Komaru Characters: Fukawa Toko, Togami Byakuya, Naegi Komaru Additional Tags: togafuka week 2023 Summary: Togami, Fukawa and Komaru go on holiday to Kraków. Togami tells them a story that his mother once told him.

Comments: My next very late TogaFuka Week contribution! Day 5, Travel. I have the last two days first-drafted but they’re kinda long lol so might be a while. But I’m also not actively working on my novel (fingers crossed hopefully done with it now!) so that’s something haha.

💖 Please like, reblog, leave kudos and/or comment on AO3 💖

***

Touko sidesteps for the third time in ten seconds, barely avoiding the young couple barging through. They pass without acknowledging her selfless act, nattering away as if they’re the only two people on the plaza. Their voices gnash together, shrill and excited and overwhelmingly British. Her skin crawls. She grits her teeth but they don’t notice, don’t care, continuing their pathetic lives. Damn tourists.

Then again, Touko’s a tourist too, here on summer break. And so is Komaru, who’s waddling slightly further ahead like a constipated duck. Instead of feathers, shopping bags hang from her arms, which at least slows her down. Keeps her in Touko’s field of vision. Touko reckons too long a blink and the streams of sightseers threading through could absorb Komaru into their entity.

Though there aren’t a huge amount of strangers surrounding them, it’s enough to tighten Touko’s throat like a rope looped around her neck. She thinks back to the one time she did a book signing, years and years ago. Whenever she tried to talk to any of her fans, she either groaned or gurgled. An hour in, she vomited in the bathroom, and the event had to finish prematurely. Her agent ensured she never did another book signing again.

“Perhaps we should return to the hotel for a short time,” says Byakuya, who walks much more gracefully than Komaru, gliding along like a swan on water beside Touko. He looks at ease, his features smooth save for just a faint dent in his brow like a footprint on sand.

Though he’s better with crowds than Touko, he doesn’t like them any more than she does.

“But we haven’t visited that stall yet!” Komaru says, trying to point, but Touko can just barely make out her finger with all the bag straps cocooning her hand.

Byakuya heaves a sigh that washes over the discomfort prickling inside of Touko. His presence makes her feel like she’s relaxing on a beach, alone with a calm tide lazily lapping at her toes. She grasps Byakuya’s arm and presses closer to him. Other than a glance, he doesn’t acknowledge what she’s done. Her heart flutters and she grins.

Even after dating for six months, he has never been big on initiating public displays of affection, but him allowing her to hold onto him more than satisfies her. For someone like him, it’s a big deal. If anyone else even alluded to doing what she does with him, he would wither them bone dry with a glare. Slice them to pieces with a few cutting words. Grind them against the bottom of his shoe. Once upon a time, Touko would have been thrilled if he did even that to her, but she couldn’t be happier with how they are now. Together.

Touko could spend the rest of the afternoon happily ogling him, even though she has his every detail engraved into the back of her eyelids. Alas, she has Komaru Naegi to worry about.

The smile on Touko’s face falls off as she grumbles and wipes sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “You’re not going to fit all that in your suitcase, Omaru.”

Komaru turns around, wobbling. Touko’s arms twinge as she fights back the impulse to run over and steady her. Fortunately, Komaru manages to remain upright, so Touko just scowls at her from afar.

“I’ll manage. There is so much cool stuff here.” Komaru rummages through one bag and pulls out a small dragon plush toy. Instead of scales, pink and purple fuzz cover its body. Its head constitutes half of its overall size. “I bought one for everybody back home.”

Touko’s shoulders hitch up irritably. “And you wonder why you’re always broke.”

To think that Komaru had somehow mustered enough self-restraint to save the money needed for her own plane ticket. Though, that wasn’t without trying to persuade Touko to purchase it for her first. And then her own brother. Then Kyouko.

For months, Komaru had gone on and on about how she hadn’t been on a holiday since forever. Now she is here, with them, on what had been intended to be a romantic getaway. Komaru’s the only person who could get away with it. Not that Touko would ever admit that out loud.

“If you would buy our friends gifts, I wouldn’t have to pick up your slack,” retorts Komaru, a pout puffing out her cheeks.

Before Touko can respond, her tongue sizzling hot in her mouth, Byakuya cuts in, “Let her learn from her mistakes, Touko.”

Just like that, Touko’s tongue melts into the roof of her mouth.

“Yes, Byakuya-sama,” she mumbles, face warming.

“Buying these is not a mistake.” Komaru brandishes the dragon toy. “They’re so cute. In fact, I’m tempted to keep them all and sleep with them every night on my bed.”

“Yeah, I’m s-sure your f-future girlfriend will love that,” grumbles Touko. “You know, this is why you can’t get any bitches.”

“Hey!”

While Komaru fusses and Touko sticks up her nose, Byakuya turns his attention to the dragon. A grimace pulls on his lips.

“To think that cutesy toy symbolises a human-devouring monster that plagued this city until it consumed sulphur and suffered a fiery demise,” he says.

“Actually, Togami-san, it was probably the smoke that killed it, not the fire,” says Komaru. She hikes up her chin, genuinely proud of herself. “I learned that from a British quiz show.”

Touko makes a mental note to ask Komaru’s teachers to set her extra homework because clearly she has too much free time on her hands. Grinning, Komaru looks around, but when her gaze soars upward, she pauses. Squints.

“These days, instead of dragons, it seems Kraków just has all these crows plaguing it. Gosh, there are so many.”

“They’re pigeons,” says Byakuya.

Komaru yelps. “Yuck, that’s nowhere near as cool! They better not poop on me. I should have brought an umbrella.”

She buries her head under her arms. Well, as much as she can with all the bags attached to her. A few people shoot her confused looks, while others peer upward, trying to work out what she’s hiding from.

“Crows shit too,” Touko points out before whining and shaking her head. “Argh! You’re ruining the mood by bringing up excrement, Omaru.”

“It’s not my fault Kraków is full of flying rats,” says Komaru, poking her head out from beneath her mountain of bags. “And you calling me that name isn’t helping, by the way.”

Touko is well aware that some passersby have slowed down, trying to listen in despite most likely not understanding Japanese. Or maybe the whole world has just slowed down. Their gazes grope at her skin, getting under it more than Komaru ever could. Holidays are meant to be for relaxation. That’s what all the brochures say. That’s what Touko’s classmates before Hope’s Peak used to say. They would go frolicking to distant lands while she spent school breaks in the library or the local cemetery or wherever Genocider Syo sneezed. While they were scraping sand off their feet, she was scraping blood from underneath her nails...

Byakuya’s hand suddenly grips her shoulder.

“Oi. You’re being noisy. Both of you,” he states. Touko tenses and blinks as the world widens around her like a fist unclenching. It’s not just her and her thoughts anymore. Bright blue spills overhead while children’s excited footfalls bubble on the plaza. And Byakuya’s there too. And Komaru.

She breathes.

“You should treat these birds with more respect, like the locals do.” Byakuya sweeps his glare across onlookers, repelling them away, before turning to Komaru. “There are even streets named after them.”

“What? The pigeons?” replies Komaru. “Is it because their poop makes good fertiliser or something?”

“Legend says they were originally human. Knights who served the prince of Kraków, Henryk the Righteous,” explains Touko, fidgeting her hands.

“Yes. That’s right.” Byakuya nods. “According to old stories, they’re still waiting for their prince to return. Obviously, it’s not real, but...”

“Whoa whoa,” says Komaru. “Knights? Prince? Pigeons? Come on, tour guide. It’s story time.”

Byakuya looks a bit put off by the nickname, but he smooths his features and adjusts his glasses. “When I was young and naive - ”

“I can’t imagine you ever being young...”

“... I told my mother that I did not have to work hard because I was rich,” he continues. “So she sat me down and imparted onto me the tale of Henryk the Righteous.”

Touko can’t imagine Byakuya ever having that philosophy.

“How does the story go?” asks Komaru. Touko curls her lips.

“You can read about it when we’re back at the hotel. We’re in the middle of...”

“It’s fine,” says Byakuya. “There’s a bench nearby. We’ll rest for a bit on it.”

“Yes, darling,” says Touko, breaking into a smile, while Komaru’s eyes roll.

Most of the available seating consists of dining chairs, under table parasols belonging to the many restaurants and cafés on the plaza’s perimeter. There are also the horse-drawn carriages that tour the town, available at hefty prices that Touko with her school librarian salary cringes at. The bench that Byakuya leads them to is near the plaza’s centre. It’s tucked away between some scaffolding and is miraculously vacant. Komaru plops her bags down and sits at one end of the bench, with Touko settling next to her and Byakuya occupying Touko’s other side.

“So, you flexed about being rich and your mother told you a story to humble you,” said Komaru, picking up where Byakuya had left off.

“That’s not how I would put it,” says Byakuya, frowning. “Anyway... long ago, Poland was split into five kingdoms. One of its rulers, Prince Henryk, wished to unite them all and be their singular king. But to do this, he needed to be blessed by the pope, who lived in another country. The journey would cost a lot of money and no one wished to fund the prince’s trip.”

Byakuya’s voice never fails to enrapture Touko, whether he is narrating a story, talking about which brand of corn flakes they should buy or saying, ‘I would like to consciously partner with you.’ Touko leans against his side, and Komaru is equally quiet as she listens.

“One day, Henryk heard a rumour about a sorceress, so in desperation he went to bargain with her. If she made him rich, he would marry her... or so he told her. In reality, he planned to take the money then do away with her at the first opportunity. She agreed to help him and came with him to this market square, where she transformed his knights into pigeons. The prince watched, stunned, as they pecked at St. Mary’s Basilica. The bits of brick and stone that fell from it turned into gold coins when they hit the ground.”

They can see the church from where they’re sitting now, a tall brick gothic building stuffed with paintings, varnished furniture and golden trimmings. It sheds no coins these days, only an hourly trumpet cry.

“I can see why your mother told you this story. You remind me of this prince, Togami-san!” Komaru says, wagging a finger.

Byakuya pulls a face. “I should hope not.”

“Y-Yes, Byakuya is much smarter than that foolish prince. On his travels, that imbecile spent his money freely. On jewellery. Fine clothes. Prostitutes,” Touko butts in. “He hadn’t even managed to leave the country before he became skint. He could no longer afford to travel to Rome where the pope was, but he was too ashamed to return to Kraków so went into hiding. Since that day, his knights have remained pigeons, awaiting his return. Though not really because it’s just a story.”

“Yikes. Poor prince... and poor knights,” says Komaru. She stands up and bows at a nearby pigeon. “Sorry, Pigeon-sama. I meant no disrespect. May a bountiful supply of breadcrumbs come your way. Speaking of which, what are we doing for lunch? Maybe we could go to KFC? We passed one earlier. Oh, wait... is that offensive to say in front of pigeons?”

“Where the hell is the ‘P’ in KFC?” asks Touko.

“Aren’t pigeons and chickens like... cousins?”

Touko feels more tired than before she sat down. She doesn’t even bother correcting Komaru, instead looking at Byakuya to regain her sanity. A frown glazes his face as he seems to survey their surroundings. When she tries to follow his gaze, she can’t see anything out of the ordinary. Straight-edged buildings. Old-fashioned lamp posts. A young girl carrying a Pikachu toy with a concave head.

“Is something wrong?” Touko asks worriedly.

“My mother said that when she was younger, there were hardly any tourists. Now look at this place... American fast food chains. Irish pubs. English translations everywhere.”

“Is that bad?” asks Komaru.

A pause.

“It’s different,” says Byakuya. “Places change. People change. Adapt.”

“Yep! So let’s all try something new today.” Komaru points. “Polish doughnuts! I’ve got to try some for Aoi-chan. We should have enough time to buy them before we head to the pro-Palestinian rally...”

She checks her phone and yelps.

“Which starts soon!”

Komaru runs off. Several people dodge out of her way, murmuring to each other in different languages but all with the same irritated tone. Touko looks down and realises Komaru has left all her bags behind.

Byakuya sighs. “I suppose some things don’t change.”

Touko takes his hand. “Like my feelings for you.”

He gives a small smile. The two of them gather up Komaru’s bags and follow after her.

#togafuka #touko fukawa #toko fukawa #byakuya togami #danganronpa #togafukaweek #fanfiction #one shot #komaru naegi #pinlc post

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zenonaa · 20 days

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i get so happy when ppl mention any of my fics to me hehe

#also sidenote i am finally getting back to the 6 month late togafuka week fics

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zenonaa · 20 days

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You’ve written about Byakuya’s parents (and how his butler, Pennyworth, was a better parental figure), and about how Byakuya’s siblings fought in competition and got exiled (…and then The Tragedy happened, and then ALL of them were *really*…unalived…) Have you ever written anything about his sister, Shinobu Togami/Blue Ink specifically? (Byakuya doesn’t like *anyone*, but they used to travel together (that made them kinda closer?))

I've not written about her specifically, but she does appear in one of my fics - https://archiveofourown.org/works/13856547/chapters/32433396 (though it's multi-chapter and tofugiri and e-rated in places so definitely very niche ahaha. I've linked to the chapter she appears in)

#also oh god i wrote that 6 years ago...

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zenonaa · 3 months

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someone: hey I noticed this thing you did in your writing!

me, kicking my feet up flirtatiously: oh??? do you want to hear my thoughts on why I did that? do you want a play-by-play of the language choices in every related sentence? do you want an exhaustive breakdown of The Themes???

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zenonaa · 3 months

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it's been a while since i read fic in general so i don't remember the specifics, but 100% i noticed reoccurring words/phrases in your fics and i really adored it

eee i am glad you enjoyed them! ;w; i have some random writing rules in my head that i try to self-impose upon myself haha

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zenonaa · 3 months

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I love when you’re reading multiple fics by the same author and you start to spot all the phrases and adjectives they like to use

#i wonder if ppl do this with me ahhh

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zenonaa · 3 months

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Can you help feed my curiosity? How many words have you posted across all pseudos and fandoms on AO3? Reblog to paint a pretty picture!

*Bonus points if you include how long you’ve been posting on AO3 in the tags.

#1101695 #got my account in 2012 but started posting in 2013

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zenonaa · 6 months

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Fandom: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Dangan Ronpa Series Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya, Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Owada Mondo, Asahina Aoi/Ogami Sakura, Asahina Aoi/Celestia Ludenberg, Ikusaba Mukuro/Maizono Sayaka, Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto, a whole bunch of others but these are the main ones, basically multiship for almost everyone except togami hagakure and fukawa, and naegi i guess??? Characters: Everyone in DR1 except the real Junko Summary: Naegi unknowingly starts a place where his classmates can go to hook up with each other.

Comments: VERY LATE TOGAFUKA WEEK DAY 4 fic for kiss! This was meant to be a LOT shorter but I got carried away whoops. There is TogaFuka in here and it’s worth it I promise!!!

💖 Please like, reblog, leave kudos and/or comment on AO3 💖

***

Makoto looks both ways as he walks down the corridor. With only twenty minutes left until the night-time announcement, most of the class have probably retired to their rooms by now. The only person he can think of who might still be about is Byakuya, but he would be in the library, not loitering in the halls, so Makoto doubts they will bump into each other.

As he’s unlikely to see anyone until morning, he shouldn’t be on edge. His stomach shouldn’t be flipping at every shadow, and he shouldn’t be digging crescents into his palms whenever something creaks. Yes, Monobear has trapped them in the school, pitting them against each other in a killing game, but nobody has tried murdering anyone. There have been quarrels, sure, and a few even verged toward fistfights, but no one has crossed the line. Yet.

He plans to grab himself a snack then head straight back to his room, no stops, no detours. Just in case. However, as Makoto approaches the cafeteria door, he hears people talking on the other side. With each step, the voices grow louder, sharper, angrier. His pace quickens and he shoves open the door.

In the middle of the cafeteria are Kiyotaka and Mondo.

“You have absolutely no self-discipline!” Kiyotaka yells, pointing at Mondo. “Instead of running around with your biker gang, you should be working to better yourself. Study! Do community service! Work on a skill.”

“B-Bastard,” Mondo grits out. He cracks his knuckles. “You don’t know how much self-discipline I’m using right now to not punch your goddamn face. I’ve got far more than you could dream of having. Though that ain’t saying much. You’re the guy who whenever he sees a speck of dust on his uniform, he goes cryin’ and hollerin’ to the laundromat.”

Kiyotaka recoils, wide-eyed. “You...!”

Mondo pulls back his fist. Makoto’s stomach lurches.

“Guys, please calm down!” he shouts, running over.

“Don’t listen to him,” says Monobear, sitting on a chair at one of the cafeteria’s smaller tables. It reaches its paw into a bag of popcorn. Because its mouth is for aesthetic purposes, when Monobear brings a handful of food up to its face, the pieces of popcorn slide down past its chin and spill around its body.

Makoto looks between the other two, frowning. “If you disagree with each other, fighting isn’t going to prove whether you’re right or wrong.”

“But he’s pissing me off, acting all high and mighty,” says Mondo.

“Well, let’s resolve that issue first. Why don’t you both go relax in the sauna?” suggests Makoto. “Then once you’re both calmer, you can...”

“A great idea!” says Kiyotaka. “This will be a true test of self-discipline. Whoever endures the sauna for longer is the Super High School Level Self-Discipliner.”

That is not what Makoto had in mind.

“Self-discipliner? That sounds kinda dirty,” says Monobear.

A smirk curls Mondo’s lips. He grinds his knuckles into his other hand’s palm. “You’re on, Caterpillar-brows. Get ready to lose.”

“That’s not...” Makoto starts, but the two barrel out of the cafeteria before he can finish.

Though he came here to get a snack, as the person who brought up the sauna, Makoto feels obligated to go after them. He should also make sure they don’t start beating each other up. How he will manage that, what with being a stick insect compared to them, he doesn’t know. Maybe he can convince them using words. Anyway, he can’t leave them to their own devices with a clear conscience.

When he leaves the cafeteria, they’re nowhere in sight. Thankfully, he knows exactly where to find them. Makoto sprints over to the public baths as best he can, gasping for air as he arrives at the locker room. He staggers into the bathing area, where Kiyotaka has already stripped down and wears only a towel.

“Enough joking around,” Kiyotaka tells Mondo. “Take off your clothes.”

“I told ya, I don’t need to.” Mondo hasn’t even removed his black overcoat. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, giving you a handicap despite all that shit you said about me.”

Makoto relaxes, but only slightly. They’re not fighting. For now, at least.

“Ah, Naegi-kun!” Kiyotaka turns to him. “We were waiting for you.”

“You were?” says Makoto.

“Yes. It’s only fitting that the person who came up with the idea acts as the referee.”

“But I...”

Mondo and Kiyotaka charge into the sauna. Makoto pads up to the door, which slammed shut behind them. Through the panel, he can see them sitting side-by-side, continuing to bicker.

“Hey, Ishimaru. You should call it quits. You’re sweating so much, people all across the school are gonna slip on your sweat. You don’t wanna cause a safety hazard, do you?”

“This... isn’t sweat... my skin is crying tears of determination!”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Makoto bites his lip. All that shouting can only be making them feel even hotter. He expects them to be done within five minutes, but they’re still arguing in there an hour later when Monobear gives the ten o’clock night time announcement.

“Hey, it’s night-time now,” Makoto pipes up. “Maybe we should continue this another time.”

“If you’re tired, you can go back to your room,” Mondo says. “We’ll take it from here. Tomorrow morning, bring a bucket and a mop because Ishimaru’s gonna be a puddle.”

“There is no need, for I am going to mop the floor with Oowada-kun. His pompadour will be perfect for the task!” Kiyotaka chimes in.

“Go on and scram, Naegi. This is gonna get real intense.”

Makoto hesitates, but the thought of lying in bed makes his eyelids grow heavier. Maybe it’s all the hot water and steam, but he feels like if he stays any longer, he might drift off to sleep. And if that were to happen, he would be breaking the rules set by Monobear. No sleeping outside of the dorm rooms.

Against his better judgement, he leaves.

***

Part of Makoto expects to not be awoken by Monobear’s morning announcement, but a body discovery one. The first thing he does after leaving his room is rush over to the sauna, only to find it empty. He sprints to the cafeteria, where he finds Mondo and Kiyotaka. But they don’t have their hands around each other’s throats. No, they have their arms around each other’s shoulders.

“... and then Chuck brought the second slipper to Kyoudai. Isn’t that sweet?” says Kiyotaka, beaming from ear to ear. “Ah, Kyoudai tells the story much better than I do.”

“No, no. Kyoudai, you nailed it,” Mondo replies in equally high spirits.

The rest of the class stare. Makoto joins in with them. Last he saw, those two were insulting each other and seemed ready to fight. Now they’re pressing close, exchanging compliments and laughing together. He had hoped the sauna might help calm them down, but as optimistic as he is, he hadn’t expected them to become so chummy.

“Are you both okay?” asks Makoto.

“They’ve been like this since they got here,” says Aoi. “It’s so... weird.”

“We are completely fine. What you are witnessing is a result of our trip to the sauna, where we showed each other our strength,” explains Kiyotaka. “Our souls waged and came together, as one. All because of you, Naegi-kun. Many thanks! At least sixteen of them!”

A few of the others look over at Makoto with raised eyebrows.

“So who won the contest?” he asks.

“That ain’t important!” Mondo snaps, suddenly glaring. “What matters is that we exposed ourselves to each other, as men.”

“Relax, Kyoudai. You will give yourself wrinkles.” Kiyotaka pats his cheek. “Don’t forget that your skin is precious.”

Mondo sighs and leans into his touch. The tension in his shoulders fades away. “You’re right, Kyoudai. Thanks for reminding me.”

While Makoto eats, Kiyotaka and Mondo continue to chatter, showering the other with praise between mouthfuls. When a grain of rice sticks to Mondo’s cheek, Kiyotaka delicately brushes it away and they smile at each other. The change in their dynamic appears sudden, but they seem happy. And Makoto thinks them getting along better can only be a good thing.

***

After breakfast, Makoto stops by the school shop. Nothing in there usually interests him. Not the antique dolls, not the sand timers, and not vases that he would expect to find in his grandmother’s house. Most of the time, he ends up using the vending machine, winning gifts that he can give to his friends. However, according to Chihiro, there is some new stock, so he’s curious to see if there is finally anything he wants for himself. If not, he can always get something for someone else.

When he walks in, he immediately spots Celes and Aoi.

“You can’t be human,” says Aoi in disbelief. Opposite her, Celes has a smile painted onto her face.

“I assure you that I am. Do you wish to feel my pulse to confirm?”

“Stop joking around.” A knot of tension divides Aoi’s brow. “You know what I mean.”

“What’s up?” asks Makoto. He swears the air chills as he draws nearer.

“Celes-chan was just saying how dull it is that no one has died,” Aoi says before throwing out her arms. “That’s messed up, ‘right?”

“A murder would shake things up though, would it not?” Celes places a hand to her mouth. “Admit it. I’m not wrong. It’s inevitable some of us will start killing each other, and you would be wise to accept that.”

“See! That’s horrible to say!”

Aoi trembles, which Celes regards with amusement. Makoto’s eyes dart between them. Creating rifts is what Monobear wants. Unattended to, these rifts could get bigger, and deeper, and then... no. He has to end their quarrel before it can rip any further, though that will be difficult if Aoi keeps getting more worked up, or if Celes doesn’t take the situation seriously. They need to sit together, with no distractions, and talk.

A lightbulb switches on in Makoto’s brain.

“I know how to settle this,” he says. “Come with me.”

They glance at each other but don’t object, following him out. He leads them to the locker room connected to the baths. While he stands back, they look around, confused.

“Go into the sauna together for a bit. Trust me,” he says. “And don’t come out until you’ve both reconciled.”.

“Um... sure?” says Aoi.

“Why not? I don’t have any other plans,” replies Celes. “Ah, but Naegi-kun, if you would be so kind as to give us some privacy. Three is a crowd, as they say.”

“Yeah, it’d be creepy having a guy hanging around us the whole time,” adds Aoi, scratching her cheek.

“O-Of course!” Heat gushes across Makoto’s face and he waves his hands, backing away. “I’ll see you later. When you’re done!”

He cannot leave the locker room fast enough.

His ears are still burning when he arrives at his dorm room. Just before he opens the door, he freezes, remembering he had planned to check out the new stock in the school shop. In all the commotion, he had completely forgotten to do so.

“Upupupu. Did you get blue-balled back there?”

Makoto yelps and spins around. Monobear stares up at him with its paws behind its back.

Once he’s over his surprise, he glares. “I’m helping them mend their relationship so you can’t try taking advantage of their misunderstandings.”

“If you say so,” says Monobear. Makoto turns away and enters his room without another word.

***

Truth be told, he isn’t totally sure that his idea will work again. At least, not as well as it did with Kiyotaka and Mondo. The next morning, he arrives at the cafeteria, where he sees Aoi and Celes drinking tea together and giggling. Sakura sits opposite them, quietly sipping from her cup.

“You are amazing, Celes-chan,” says Aoi. “I’m like a regular old oatmeal bar compared to you.”

“Don’t undersell yourself. You are equally delightful,” replies Celes, shaking her head.

Makoto relaxes and smiles. “I’m glad you’re getting along.”

“Ah, but of course.” Though Celes is speaking to Makoto, she continues to look fondly at Aoi. “I cannot understate how much we enjoyed our stay in the sauna. In a short time, we got to know each other a lot more intimately.”

“It was like I saw a whole other side of Celes-chan. We had such a good time. We’re even going to go for a swim together this afternoon,”Aoi says, wrapping her arms around Celes and nuzzling their cheeks together.

He tries to imagine Celes not wearing her loita-style dress and struggles, her body becoming a smudge of navy as he tries to fit her into a swimsuit.

“I’m relieved you made up. You were both quite heated when I last saw you,” he says.

“Yes, things did get quite hot, didn’t they?” muses Celes, trying to keep the cup cradled in her hands steady as Aoi hugs her tighter. “But don’t concern yourself with the matter any further. Sometimes, women just need to lay themselves bare to each other.”

***

Later that day, Makoto remembers to visit the school shop, but the new stock doesn’t appeal to him. If he wanted dumbbells, he would borrow one from the gymnasium, and the massage gun looks like something he would have to loudly clarify what it was whenever someone saw him with it. Most of the new items are pretty expensive too. His trip isn’t a complete loss though, as he inserts a coin into the vending machine and ends up with a book about Brazilian jiu-jitsu. While he doubts he would get much use out of it, he reckons Sakura would enjoy it.

Sakura didn’t explicitly state she would be accompanying Aoi and Celes to the swimming pool, but she and Aoi usually attend the pool together. On his way there, he grabs his swim stuff from his room. He may as well join them. It was only after his imprisonment at Hope’s Peak that he began fully appreciating the benefits of swimming. Not only is it a great way to exercise, but whenever he is in the pool, he can almost pretend he isn’t trapped, able to freely glide in all directions underwater. Monobear can’t take that from him.

Makoto has just reached the bottom of the stairs to the second floor when someone shouts, “Get away from me!”

He freezes, recognising the voice. His trainers thud against the stairs as he bolts toward where the exclamation seems to have come from. As he expects, he finds Junko Enoshima standing in the corridor. If she clenched her jaw any harder, he wouldn’t have been surprised if her teeth shattered under the pressure.

“Enoshima-san?” Makoto follows her gaze. His head jerks back. “... Maizono-san?”

With how vexed Junko had sounded, Sayaka is one of the last people he would guess to be here too. Sayaka’s lips have almost been sucked entirely into her mouth with how much she’s pursing them. Her hands are raised, palms open and facing toward Junko. Though her expression isn’t contorted in anger like Junko’s, her stare stabs fear into Makoto.

And he isn’t even the person she’s looking at.

“What’s going on?” Makoto asks.

“I’ll tell you what.” Junko flings up a hand. Her gaze remains rooted to Sayaka. “I was just minding my own business when Maizono here decided to accost me.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I wished to help,” says Sayaka, so calmly that a shiver trickles down Makoto’s back. She reminds him of a pool with a thin layer of ice on top. Smooth, tranquil, but push down and it will fracture and the icy water will swallow its victim whole.

“Insult me, more like,” scoffs Junko. “I was on my way out of the toilets when she came out of nowhere and offered to do my makeup. Like hello? I’m a goddamn model. It’d be like asking Hagakure to redline Yamada’s art.”

“I initially followed you because you seemed agitated and I was concerned. You even went into the boys restroom by mistake...”

Makoto blinks. “Enoshima-san did what?”

“Huh? Why’d you have to blab that?” Junko cringes. “Are you trying to make me look dumb in front of Naegi?”

“No!” Sayaka places her hands over her heart. “I was worried about you. You were in there for a while. Then when you came out, your mascara was smudged and your lipstick application was misshapen. I thought you had been practising your makeup, and I wanted to teach you. Being a model, you probably have people do your makeup for you.”

Junko squares her shoulders. The look on her face makes Makoto want to flee as fast as he can, but his body won’t budge. His legs would probably buckle underneath him anyway. She has the aura of a cold-hearted super soldier.

“I don’t need your help.” Junko points at Sayaka, sneering. “Why don’t you run along and continue teaching girls to have body dysmorphia? Or why not tell them how to fool themselves into thinking a cute girl on stage would ever care about them?”

Sayaka’s face cracks. Emotion floods out from behind her porcelain skin, into her scrunched brow, into her twisted mouth, into her scream.

“SHUT UP!”

They lunge toward each other at the same time.

“Stop!” Makoto cries out. He doesn’t know if they heard him, but they stop close enough that if they were to breathe, they’d be sharing the same air. Their hands stay by their sides, not touching the other. Not yet. But their fingers are curled tight enough to draw blood. To strangle.

With each second that grinds past, Makoto’s heart thrashes in his chest. Should one of them so much as cough, that’d be enough to trigger the other. The situation needs to be de-escalated. Makoto needs to de-escalate it.

“I know how to resolve this.” He thinks he does. Right now, he’s two for two. “Come with me.”

It’s not an order. It’s a plea. They ignore him.

“At least try, for me,” he says, quieter, and they finally turn to him.

“... Okay,” says Sayaka, her eyes thawing.

Junko twirls a lock of her hair around her finger. “I can’t stand this plastic doll, but since you asked nicely, I’ll play along.”

***

The next day, Makoto almost trips over in his haste to get to the cafeteria. Fortunately, he manages to recover from his stagger and presses on, breathing loudly. He hasn’t seen Sayaka and Junko since he left them at the locker room. Both of them had promised they wouldn’t do anything stupid after he left, yet his insides still squirmed most of the night, as he tossed and turned in bed.

Neither come across as the sort of people to get violent. Sayaka isn’t a knife-wielding maniac, and Junko isn’t a heartless warrior. Then again, he hadn’t expected them to lash out at each other like they did. Perhaps he should have stayed. No, his presence could have stopped them from getting comfortable. And if he’s honest, he doesn’t think he would have been able to relax either, with Sayaka and Junko wearing only towels.

He schools his features as best he can and pushes down the mental images bubbling in his head. His face is still hot when he bursts into the cafeteria. The other students all turn toward him while his eyes whiz around like flies trapped in a jar, hunting for Sayaka or Junko.

“You were right, Enoshima-san.” Sayaka sits at the main table, painting varnish onto Junko’s nails. “Camo green does suit you.”

His shoulders slump in relief as a smile spreads across his face. Their session went better than he could have hoped for. They aren’t insulting each other, or butting heads. Instead, they’re sitting side by side, knees brushing together as Sayaka works on Junko’s nails.

“Woo, check us out, getting wild up in here.” Junko lifts her hand and swivels her wrist, admiring Sayaka’s handiwork. “This shade is gonna make a comeback, I can feel it. Thank you, Maizono-chan. I only gathered the confidence to try it on because of you.”

“Yes, it’s very debonair,” says Touko. Only she and Byakuya are seated away from the main table, though they’re not together. Their tables are next to each other.

Yasuhiro frowns. “Debonhuh? Is that a Pokémon?”

“It’s probably an insult. Fukawa-chan, why can’t you be nice for once?” Aoi glares in Touko’s direction. “You know what they say. Ugly thoughts make your face ugly.”

“S-So what if I’m ugly?” Touko’s shoulders hunch. “Why would I want to conform to your rose-tinted world? Ugliness is truth. Ugliness is reality. And if you can’t see the beauty in that... you really are a vapid airhead bimbo.”

“Hey!”

Aoi’s chair screeches back as she jolts to her feet. Crockery rattles on the table, prompting some of the other students’ hands to twitch to their plates and bowls instinctively. Even though Aoi doesn’t move from her spot, which is some distance away from Touko’s table, Touko positions her arms defensively over herself.

“Don’t hit me, don’t hit me,” Touko babbles. “Only Byakuya-sama can hit me.”

Byakuya lowers his cup from his mouth. “I would rather dip my hand in acid than lay a finger on you.”

“Fukawa-san, it’s okay.” Makoto’s words seem to have no effect, as she continues cowering and trembling. He pulls a face. “Maybe you ought to go to the sauna with Asahina-san.”

For someone as stand-offish as Touko, this would be the ultimate test on whether the sauna could settle all disputes. Some of the class aren’t the most sociable, but she is on a whole other tier along with Byakuya. Monobear wouldn’t stand a chance against them if they had a way of coaxing people like them to open up to the others.

Touko and Aoi stiffen, then look at each other.

“I... I would rather die!” Touko blurts. One moment she’s buried under her own arms, and in the next she is halfway across the cafeteria.

Before Makoto can think to say anything, she’s gone. Everyone stares at the door.

“Finally.” A smile tweaks the corners of Byakuya’s lips. “Peace and quiet.”

He sips his coffee. Meanwhile, Aoi huffs and puts her hands onto her hips.

“I’m not that bad.” She hooks a finger against her bottom lip. “Am I?”

As much as Makoto thinks a trip to the sauna would benefit Touko, he can’t force her to visit it. If he pushes too hard, he suspects she will scream that he is a pervert and refuse to come out of her room for several days. Some of the others probably wouldn’t complain if that happened, but he doesn’t have it in his heart to stress her more. They all need to get along. Makoto can try again with her another time.

On his way out of the cafeteria, a yawn rolls out of him. He doesn’t have any plans with anyone, so he decides to nap in his room for a few hours.

***

Instead of waking to silence courtesy of the soundproof walls surrounding him, Makoto is startled awake by his doorbell’s shrill ringing. It doesn’t relent, blaring nonstop. He throws himself out of bed and hurries to the door, his heart racing.

Upon opening it, he’s greeted by the sight of a severely distressed Yasuhiro.

“Naegi-chi!” Yasuhiro falls to his knees and claps his hands together over his head, grasping them together tightly.

Even though Yasuhiro is no longer jamming his finger against the button, Makoto’s ears continue to ring. “W-What is it?”

“You’ve gotta come quick. There’s a serious battle about to go down, and there’s a hostage involved. We need you to de-escalate and calm the scene with your good vibes!”

He grabs Makoto’s wrist and pulls him along, not giving Makoto the chance to respond. As they run through the school, Makoto barely manages to stay upright and not tumble over. His breaths huff too frequently for him to formulate a coherent sentence; however, it doesn’t stop his mind from whirling.

A serious battle. A hostage.

Something of this seriousness has to involve Monobear, but when Yasuhiro finally slams open the door to the art room, it’s nowhere to be seen. Upheaved desks and chairs litter the floor, but Makoto’s eyes are quickly drawn higher. Paint pots soar through the air, diving down to crash against a particular desk. On impact, colour explodes out of the pots, splattering everywhere like fireworks. They’re as loud too. He looks at the other side of the room and spots Leon, whose arms are windmilling as he hurls pots with Super High School Level precision.

“N-Naegi Makoto-dono!” Hifumi squawks from behind the paint-covered desk, where he is taking shelter from Leon’s onslaught. “Please talk sense into that lunatic.”

Makoto turns to Leon. “Kuwata-kun, stop!”

Leon pauses and glares. “Stay out of this! You’re not involved.”

“Me and Kuwata-chi came to admire the artwork and bumped into Yamada-chi and Fuijsaki-chi,” explains Yasuhiro, which raises more questions than it answers.

Movement near Leon catches Makoto’s attention. In all the chaos, Makoto hadn’t noticed Chihiro until now. Chihiro fidgets, looking down, not saying a word.

“You came in here to ogle the bust.” Hifumi seethes. “I saw Hagakure Yasuhiro-dono poking its nipple!”

“Well, you came here to make a move on Fujisaki,” says Leon.

An embarrassed squeak pops out of Chihiro. By the desk, Hifumi twitches and starts feeling around the floor around him, as if searching for something.

“We were collaborating, you ignoramus. Fujisaki-tan wanted me to design a character for her. I have sketches to prove it.” Hifumi finds a sheet of paper by his foot and waves it around. It’s hard to look at when in constant motion, but then Hifumi stills his hand, and Makoto sees a pink-haired anime girl drawn onto it. Next to her is a rabbit split into two colours like Monobear, though it’s half-pink instead of black. “Also, I’m not into 3D like you degenerates, with your minds always in the gutter.”

Leon aims a paint pot. “Say that again, shitface!”

Hifumi screams and hides under his arms. Yasuhiro does the same.

“Do something!” pleads Yasuhiro.

Makoto raises his chin. “I know how to resolve this.”

***

Unlike the previous times when his classmates spent a night in the sauna, when Makoto climbs out of bed the next morning, his stomach doesn’t feel like it’s full of spiders. He doesn’t shove his clothes on and stagger out of his room, and he doesn’t run down the corridor until his heartbeat throbs in his head. His gait is easy, relaxed. When he sees Monobear, his smile doesn’t drop like it usually does. It sharpens into a smirk.

“I can’t stand it!” Monobear thrashes its paws, stomping its feet. “Your face! It’s more hideous than usual!”

Instead of walking away, he stops. “You must be referring to my look of victory. I know how to trump your under-handed tactics to get us to turn on one another. We’re not scared of you anymore.”

“Gah! I didn’t expect you to resort to such vulgar means. Don’t get cocky. I’ll come up with something.”

Seeing Monobear uncomfortable invigorates the spring in his step. He leaves Monobear to mope and as he arrives outside the cafeteria, the door opens. Out comes Leon, who freezes when he sees Makoto.

“Good morning, Kuwata-kun. How was it last night?” asks Makoto. “Did you two put aside your differences?”

A strange grimace overcomes Leon’s face. He hunches his shoulders and averts his gaze.

“Yes, thank you, goodbye!” Leon speedwalks away.

Makoto watches him over his shoulder as he takes a few paces into the cafeteria. Because Leon left so quickly, Makoto didn’t get the chance to learn more about the prior night’s bonding session. He did thank Makoto, though, so it can’t have been that bad.

“Naegi Makoto-dono!” Hifumi calls out. Most of the class are in the midst of eating breakfast. A wide smile shines on Hifumi’s face as he waves. “Thank you most unreservedly for last night. It was an incredible experience. I’ve never done that sort of thing before with another person before. It was most enlightening...”

At least his demeanour is more in line with the other students who visited the sauna. Makoto supposes that not everyone displays them in the same way. As outgoing as Leon is, he might not be so open when it came to showing his emotions. It’s like how when Makoto is happy, he smiles and laughs, and when his sister was happy, she used to shriek and bite people’s arms. Luckily she grew out of that.

He hopes he can see her again soon.

“You’re welcome,” says Makoto warmly. “Who knew the sauna would bring so many people together?”

It makes sense though. In there, they are relaxed. They have privacy. There are no distractions. All that is left for them to do is talk and come to an understanding. If more institutions had something like a sauna, Makoto thinks the world would be a better place. Already he can see a difference. Mondo and Kiyotaka no longer bicker. Aoi pours tea for Sakura and Celes. Junko and Sayaka take turns feeding each other. The sight of it all washes over Makoto like gentle sunlight.

Byakuya scoffs from a different table to everyone else. “These bonds are ever so fickle, if they can be altered by a single night in the sauna. So easily created... and ultimately so easily broken. I look forward to seeing how this develops, or should I say falls apart.”

“You’re just sayin’ that because you’re a friendless geek,” says Mondo.

“Hm?” Byakuya cocks his head. “Did I just hear a fly buzz past?”

Mondo rises from his chair. “Why I...”

Kiyotaka springs up and grabs Mondo’s shoulder. “Pay him no mind, Kyoudai. That sort of person cannot be reasoned with.”

“Paying no mind will be easy for him, seeing as you need a brain to have a mind,” says Byakuya.

With a snarl, Mondo makes a lunge toward him. Kiyotaka is quick to manoeuvre behind Mondo and hook his arms around his armpits, pinning him in place. Byakuya’s lips curl as he regards Mondo, as if looking at gum on the bottom of his shoe.

“Guys, please!” Makoto says, jogging over. “Why don’t you go to the sauna and...?”

“No.” Byakuya’s cup clinks against its saucer like a tongue clicking. “I would rather warm up in the incinerator than spend a minute in the sauna with any of you.”

He stands up and strides toward the cafeteria door. On the way, he passes Makoto. For a few moments, they’re close enough to almost brush shoulders, for Makoto to turn and grab his arm. However, Makoto’s fists remain at his sides, and he allows Byakuya to leave unobstructed. It’s for the best that he doesn’t try to insist Byakuya come to the sauna, at least for now. Had they made physical contact, Byakuya would have probably told him to drop dead for touching his jacket with his filthy commoner hands.

Though Byakuya has left the cafeteria, the lively atmosphere that Makoto entered into doesn’t bounce back. By the time he sits down with his breakfast, most of the class have vacated the cafeteria. He starts eating his toast.

“Hey, Naegi...” Aoi shuffles over, wringing her hands. Makoto is surprised to see her as he thought she had left already. “Is anyone booked for the sauna tonight?”

“Nope. Why?”

“I was thinking...” She cringes. “Perhaps me and Sakura-chan could have a session?”

Makoto’s brow furrows. They seemed cordial less than five minutes ago. Out of the whole class, he considers their relationship to be the closest even when taking into account those who had been to the sauna. Those two are often together, whether they are training, exploring the school hand-in-hand or leaning against each other as they read magazines in the recreation room.

“Have you and Oogami-san fallen out?” he asks.

“Oh, um...” Aoi rubs the back of her neck. “No.”

“So why do you need to spend a night in the sauna together?”

“Right, right. I forgot.” Aoi laughs weirdly and flaps her hand at him before walking away.

Makoto’s eyes scrunch up in thought. All he can think of is that Celes has wedged between Sakura and Aoi, causing some friction that Aoi doesn’t feel comfortable talking about yet. That must be it. He resumes his breakfast. She’ll tell him when she’s ready.

***

Makoto doesn’t exactly avoid Byakuya, but he doesn’t seek him out either and ends up not seeing him at all for the next few days. Like with Touko, he needs to find the right opportunity to put forward his suggestion rather than try to force it the first chance he gets. When cookies are taken out of the oven, one doesn’t touch them right away or else their hand will get burned. Instead, the food has to be left alone to cool. Having spent several afternoons with Byakuya so far during their imprisonment, Makoto knows that Byakuya is more than capable of being scalding hot with his glare, his words and his sneering. Being around Byakuya can be so intense that Makoto has learned to brace himself for psychological abuse whenever they hang out.

However, Makoto knows that Byakuya is a good guy, deep down. Very, very deep down. Makoto has seen glimpses. It was Byakuya’s idea to have Sakura escort male students on trash duty to prevent them from doing anything seedy with the girls’ rubbish. And sometimes, Byakuya seems genuinely interested in Makoto’s way of life, even if he tries to disguise it with disgust. Byakuya has come from a different world than the others. That’s why he is how he is. That’s what Makoto tells himself. He does the same with Touko. And the others as well, to an extent, but mostly those two.

Upon entering the cafeteria one morning, Makoto discovers most of the class seated at the main table. It’s breakfast time, yet he can’t see so much as a single grain of rice. There is no food at all.

“Are we having a meeting?” he asks, racking his brain. He can’t remember anyone mentioning they would be having one today.

“Nope,” says Aoi. “Oowada, Ishimaru and Fujisaki-chan are making breakfast for everyone this morning.”

Her stomach gurgles.

“It should be ready any minute now,” she adds, pouting, before planting her face into the table. Sakura gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“We’re not even allowed in the kitchen,” Touko pipes up. She’s the only one not at the main table. “I s-said I could make my own breakfast, but Ishimaru insisted I sit down and let them handle it. Argh... men shouting is one of the worst noises in the world...”

Makoto doesn’t know what to expect when the kitchen door opens ten minutes later. Mondo emerges first, holding a tray in each hand. Behind him is Kiyotaka, who not only has a tray on each palm, but also on his upper arms and one on his head. At the back, Chihiro carries a teapot.

“Do you need help?” asks Makoto, rising to his feet.

“The offer is appreciated, but we are more than capable,” replies Kiyotaka. He makes it to the table without a single tray overbalancing. “Please enjoy!”

A complete traditional breakfast appears in front of them. Grilled mackerel that makes Makoto’s mouth water. Miso soup with chunks of squash both sweet and savoury. Steamed rice that fills Makoto with warmth from the very first mouthful. He chews spinach salad while Kiyotaka rambles about the research they put in to bring this meal into fruition. It’s not the first time Makoto has eaten this sort of breakfast since arriving, as Sayaka has prepared some for him a few times, but something about the gleam in their eyes and the pride in Kiyotaka’s voice makes this meal one of a kind.

Everyone is in the midst of eating when Byakuya arrives. A few heads turn.

“Togami-kun, did you oversleep?” asks Kiyotaka.

Byakuya walks toward the kitchen. “No.”

“There is a helping in there left out for you. I was thinking if you didn’t show up, we could bring it to you. But as you are here, there is no need.”

“I will be preparing my own breakfast.”

Kiyotaka’s face falls. “But... we made enough so you could have some too.”

“That was your error in judgement, not mine. I never asked you to do that.”

Makoto expects Mondo to start shouting and spraying spittle, but instead he says in a tight voice, “Togami, I would appreciate it if you tried our cooking.”

“And I would appreciate it if you shut up,” replies Byakuya.

Mondo’s chair scrapes back as he stands up. Byakuya doesn’t linger to observe his reaction, disappearing into the kitchen.

“I can’t stand that guy,” says Mondo. He lifts a hand and clenches it into a fist in front of himself. A lopsided squint scrunches his face. “He’s a fuc-! Freaking weirdo. S’like he’s from another planet or something.”

“Why? Because he didn’t accept your food?” comes Touko’s voice. The others look over at her. She fidgets with her chopsticks. “He’s right, you know. You chose to foist it on him... Y-You wanted to make him indebted to you, like you did to me. I bet after this meal, you’re going to corner me and have your wicked way...”

“H-Hell no!” Mondo waves his hands, mortified. “I don’t wanna go anywhere near you!”

Her head jerks back. “Why not? It’s because I’m ugly, isn’t it?”

“I... um... ah!”

“I have a good idea. Fukawa-san and I can pay you back by preparing a meal some other time,” says Sayaka. She tilts her head to one side with a smile. “If I may be so bold, would you tell me the recipe for the soup? Perhaps we can substitute the mushrooms with something else.”

Touko grumbles something, but everyone’s attention is focused on Kiyotaka. The situation isn’t exactly resolved, more akin to putting a bandaid on a broken bone, but Makoto shoots an appreciative grin at Sayaka for de-escalating it. She does seem genuinely interested in what Kiyotaka has to say as well though, nodding along as he gives a detailed blow-by-blow description of the cooking process.

He’s still explaining it when Byakuya returns. Other than a few glances, no one really acknowledges him. Even Touko doesn’t speak, chewing on a fingernail as her eyes flutter between him and her plate. With his gaze trained forward, Byakuya carries his tray of breakfast across the cafeteria and past the tables.

When he reaches the door, a voice cuts through Kiyotaka’s lecture.

“Please, Togami-kun, don’t push us away. Everyone should get along,” says Chihiro, standing up. The others are silent as they listen. Byakuya looks over his shoulder with a blank expression.

“Oh? Are you talking?”

“I-I...” Chihiro folds inward, eyes pricking with tears.

The sight makes Makoto’s heart twinge. If Byakuya doesn’t feel bad about upsetting someone as gentle as Chihiro... then perhaps he really doesn’t have a heart after all.

“You’re back to your whimpering,” says Byakuya coldly. “I must have imagined you trying to talk back to me.”

Chihiro doesn’t answer and just looks down. Mondo bares his teeth. His body looks so tense that Makoto fears he’ll suddenly spring up with such velocity that no one would be able to stop him before he reached Byakuya. Next to him, Kiyotaka puts a hand on his shoulder, but the grim expression on his face makes it plain that he feels similarly to Mondo.

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” says Aoi, scowling.

“D-Don’t you badmouth Byakuya-sama,” snaps Touko. “He’s a piece of art, l-like David by Michelangelo.”

“So Togami gets a free pass to say whatever he wants but I don’t?”

“I think you need to unwind a little, Togami-kun. Why don’t you join someone in the sauna tonight?” says Makoto quickly, hoping to draw the focus away from Aoi and Touko. The current clash is bad enough. They don’t need another running alongside it.

Byakuya pushes up his glasses.

“Are your ears just a fashion accessory? I told you that I don’t want to get to know any of you more intimately,” he says.

Sayaka taps her chin. “Perhaps a trip with Naegi-kun wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

For a moment, Makoto’s heart skips, but then he realises that she means him going with Byakuya, not with her. The sensation is swiftly replaced by an uneasy flutter. He wouldn’t object to the idea. Yes, Byakuya’s company does tend to drain on him, and the idea of spending a whole night with him is sort of overwhelming, but a trip to the sauna could fix that. They could learn to understand each other better, and Makoto thinks he would have more patience to try than most of the others.

“Never,” says Byakuya, shuddering, his voice as flat as he crushes Makoto’s hopes. “He’s not my type at all.”

The door shuts behind him. A heavy silence slumps over the rest of the group. Mondo punches the table, staring down.

Chihiro sniffles, drawing Mondo’s gaze.

“Fujisaki, you can’t let that bastard talk to you that way,” he says.

“S-Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise!”

“S-...” Chihiro lets out a sob. Then another, eyes filling with tears.

Junko scowls. “Great, now look at what you’ve done. Don’t you think Togami gave her enough of a verbal beating?”

“Oh geez...” Guilt crumples Mondo’s face. He glances at Kiyotaka, who nods, then he turns back to Chihiro and plasters on a toothy grin. “Hey. Um... how about you and I go to the sauna tonight?”

Chihiro’s head snaps back. “H-Huh?”

The rest of the class stare at Mondo too. Makoto wonders if the others have the same mental image of Chihiro, short and slender and cute, juxtaposed with Mondo, big and muscular and ruggedly handsome. So far, there hasn’t been any mixed gender sessions in the sauna, but he doesn’t see why there can’t be as long as everyone is okay with it. It’s just sitting in a sauna and talking, after all.

There’s a long pause before Mondo reanimates, waving his hands in front of himself. “It doesn’t have to be the whole night. And I’ll be keeping my clothes on. And, uh, we’ll keep things light and easy. I promise.”

Aoi reaches a hand toward Chihiro. She’s too far away to touch Chihiro, so she lays down her hand nearby. “If you want to say no, just say. He’s an intense guy.”

Indeed. Mondo didn’t remove so much as a loafer when he went into the sauna. Makoto can’t see how anyone can get more intense than that. Kiyotaka managed to keep up with him, but barely.

He thinks back to that first visit with Kiyotaka and frowns. “You never said who won your contest.”

“We said it didn’t matter,” Kiyotaka reminds him. “Do not change the topic, Naegi-kun.”

Mondo turns to Chihiro. “I won’t be offended if you decline. I know I’m scary-looking... sometimes, when I see a cute girl, I freak out and scream in their face, but...”

Makoto isn’t sure that this will help Mondo’s case.

“But he has a good heart,” Kiyotaka chimes in. He pats himself on the chest. “Both from good morals and a healthy diet.”

Chihiro smiles. “All right, Oowada-kun. I’ll come tonight. And I’ll keep my clothes on too.”

“A-Are you sure?” Makoto asks. “It gets really hot in there.”

“Yup.” Chihiro nods. “If I’m with Oowada-kun, I think I’ll be more than fine.”

***

If Makoto awoke the next day and someone told him that Chihiro was in the infirmary after fainting in the sauna, he wouldn’t have been surprised. Chihiro did try to reassure Makoto about going in fully clothed, but with all the optimism Makoto has, he isn’t completely convinced. Mondo’s a big, tough, strong guy, and Chihiro... isn’t.

He decides to visit the cafeteria first, foregoing the infirmary. This turns out to be the right decision as both Mondo and Chihiro are there, eating breakfast together. Whatever transpired the night before has the pair smiling and exchanging fond looks as they fiddle with their cutlery. Almost the whole class has gathered around their table, as if drawn in by their gravitational pull.

Almost the whole class.

Neither Byakuya nor Touko are present. Either Byakuya acquired his breakfast before Makoto arrived or he plans to wait until the cafeteria empties. As for Touko, Makoto doesn’t know where she is or if she’ll show up. One time, she mentioned off-handedly that she isn’t used to eating meals with others. She had started to join them here, though, even if she never sat at their table. Perhaps he should check on her later.

Chihiro’s laugh cuts through his thoughts like sunshine parting clouds. Everyone around Chihiro leans in closer, basking in the joyful sound, and Makoto’s feet bring him over to the table.

“Good morning, everyone,” says Makoto. “I take it last night went well?”

“Yep,” says Mondo, grinning.

“I had fun.” Chihiro is equally joyful. “I had my reservations, but we took it nice and slowly.”

Leon smacks Mondo’s shoulder. “Way to go!”

Makoto didn’t realise Leon was so passionate about their classmates bonding. Though, when he thinks about it, Leon is the Super High School Level Baseball Player. Working in a team should be up his alley. Or maybe it’s because he has experienced the benefits of the sauna with Hifumi. That makes more sense actually, because Leon often talks about ditching his team and taking up a career in music. He can’t help feeling a bit of pride that it’s his idea that has made Leon so supportive of Mondo opening up to Chihiro.

“Hey, Fujisaki, why don’t you bring that smile up to the gardens with me?” asks Leon with a smirk and a jerk of his head.

Mondo sets a hand onto Chihiro’s shoulder. “Fujisaki is going to lift some weights with me later.”

“Really?” Leon’s eyebrows raise.

Chihiro nods, perking up. “Yup!”

Makoto is surprised too. Not that programmers can’t have other hobbies. But whenever Aoi or Sakura have asked Chihiro to work out with them, Chihiro always blushed and declined. Perhaps this is the influence of Mondo.

The power of the sauna may never cease to amaze Makoto.

“Eh? A beefy Fujisaki-tan?” asks Hifumi, with a hand over his mouth. “Doesn’t Oogami Sakura-dono already fill that niche?”

Kiyotaka chooses to focus on Leon. “Kuwata-kun, if you need a partner to accompany you to the garden, I volunteer. Shall we feed the chickens? Dig up weeds? Try to discover a new species of worm?”

Leon winces and scratches the back of his head. “Actually, I was planning on just vibing there.”

A look of horror splatters across Kiyotaka’s face. His shoulders jolt too, as if Leon swung a fist at him.

“Vibing? That’s a terrible habit to get into. It may be less harmful than actual cigarettes, but it’s still not good for you. You should take up healthier activities, like worm identification.”

“I said vibing, not vaping.” Leon screws a finger in his ear. “And you should be quieter. Damn...”

Mondo rests a hand onto Kiyotaka’s shoulder but looks at Leon. “Here’s something you can do instead. How’s about you both check out the sauna together?”

“Are you sure?” says Kiyotaka, his brow wrinkling. “I do not want to endanger our bond, Kyoudai.”

“You won’t. I’m totally cool with it.”

“Friendship isn’t a finite pool, Ishimaru-kun,” Makoto chimes in. “If you become closer to Kuwata-kun, that won’t diminish your connection with Oowada-kun.”

“What he said,” says Mondo, flashing a thumbs up with the hand not still on Kiyotaka’s shoulder.

Leon looks Kiyotaka up and down and shrugs. “You’d be better company than Yamada at least. Sure. Why not? There’s plenty of Leon Kuwata to go around.”

***

The next morning, Makoto hums to himself as he gets ready. He taps his foot in time with the tune as he showers, and when he catches sight of his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he smiles. There are no bruise-coloured shadows under his eyes from a lack of sleep. No longer does he dread waking up, fearing an altercation took place in the sauna that led to someone’s death. When he first arrived, he had felt powerless against Monobear’s killing game, but now he is in control. Now Monobear is the one squirming and avoiding them. Everyone becoming close won’t necessarily break them out of the school, but it will help them survive.

He expects to find Kiyotaka and Leon getting along. The thought excites him. They probably won’t be at the same stage as Kiyotaka is with Mondo yet, with those two often complimenting the other and feeling each other’s muscles. But perhaps they will be sharing jokes or wrapping their arms around the other’s shoulders.

However, as he approaches the cafeteria, he hears shouting.

“Sakura-chan, how could you? I thought you were my friend!”

Makoto rushes in. Several chairs have been knocked over and a table is overturned. At one end of the cafeteria is Aoi, her index finger trembling as she points it at Sakura.

While Aoi is shaking all over, Sakura stands very still.

“It seems you did not know me as well as you thought,” says Sakura, her arms folded over her chest.

“What’s happening?” asks Makoto, his stomach rock hard. He doesn’t know if he’s more confused or terrified. Before today, those two have never argued. They’ve never glared at the other, shoulders squared, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice.

“One second they were fine, then the next they’re at each other’s throats,” says Yasuhiro from beneath a table. The rest of the class are hiding down there with him.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” says Aoi, turning to Makoto. “I saved myself a really nice donut to eat as a nighttime treat, and Sakura-chan... Or should I say Oogami... ate it! I found her this morning with the rainbow sprinkles still on her face.”

“It was delicious,” says Sakura.

Aoi rests the back of her hand against her forehead. “I fear that our friendship is well and truly broken by this act of trickery and deception.”

“It’s not that bad,” says Makoto, who had expected something far more serious. “It’s not like she’s a mole for the Mastermind or anything...”

Sakura stiffens. Aoi glances at her, then puts her hands on her hips and thrusts her chin up higher, pouting.

“It is a big deal to me! She betrayed my trust and our bond has become cold and broken. There’s nothing that can be done to repair the damage.”

Makoto scratches his chin. “... You could go to the - ”

“The sauna?” Aoi butts in. She huffs loudly. “I don’t think it’ll work, but I suppose we can try, if it’ll stop you insisting.”

“I wasn’t insisting.”

“Come on, Oogami. Let’s get this over with.”

Aoi marches out of the cafeteria. Sakura and Makoto look at each other for a few seconds, then she leaves without a word.

The next morning, Sakura and Aoi are all smiles, feeding each other breakfast.

***

Every pair that enters the sauna later emerges with a stronger bond. Even if they fall out again later, an overnight stay repairs the damage. Sayaka and Junko accuse the other of being secretive, and a spell in the sauna has them visiting the chickens together afterwards. Mondo and Kiyotaka insist the other could attract more women with their good looks, and later they’re coming up with ‘team names’ for themselves. Aoi calls Sakura a ‘toilet head’, and then they’re holding hands and whispering and giggling.

Weeks roll into months. The sauna is in use almost every night, and nobody murders. Nobody dies. Makoto considers the sauna a success. He reckons he has seen almost every combination of students go in at least once. Only a few students haven’t gone in at all.

“I’m good,” says Yasuhiro as he throws his shirt into his laundry basket. “I’m... ah, not into that sort of thing.”

Yasuhiro makes a quick retreat from the laundry room soon after. Makoto doesn’t go after him. What Yasuhiro said is fair enough, because Yasuhiro doesn’t seem to really argue with the others. Whenever someone confronts him about something, he either runs away or yields immediately. Which is still a problem, but not something for the sauna.

After Makoto loads his clothes into one of the washing machines, he makes his way toward the library. When he tried ringing Touko’s doorbell earlier, she didn’t answer. There is every chance she simply ignored him, but rather than camp outside and wait, he figures he would see if she or Byakuya are in the library. He hasn’t seen much of either of them recently, and while almost everyone is bonding, they seem to be steadfast outsiders.

So much isolation can’t do anyone any good.

The library is silent when he arrives. Makoto barely breathes, as if that small sound may be enough to send vibrations that make the books quiver off their shelves. Or chairs swoon and hit the floor. Even the clock could drop to the floor like a mouth falling open in shock. He creeps further inside but hasn’t gone very far when he spots Touko, pressed against a free-standing bookcase as she peers at something on the other side.

Though it’s not something, but someone.

“You’re an eyesore,” drawls Byakuya’s voice. “An eye floater, in fact. How I wish I could have you surgically removed. Get out from behind there.”

Touko’s body tenses. Makoto follows her as she comes out, hanging her head. She doesn’t seem to intend on saying anything, wringing her hands in front of herself. Nearby, Byakuya sits at a table, one leg crossed over the other. In one hand he holds a book, a finger tucked in to mark his page while he has it shut.

“That wasn’t nice,” says Makoto.

Byakuya’s already irritated expression pinches harder. “Shut up. You don’t understand. Fukawa has been staring at me for the past hour from over there.”

Yet he didn’t tell Touko to go away within the first five minutes. Instead, he only spoke up when Makoto arrived, but Makoto doesn’t point that out to him. If he did, Byakuya would immediately explain how Makoto was wrong and stupid and should become a scarecrow.

Great. Now Makoto is coming up with insults for himself. He can’t imagine what reason Byakuya would give. His brain works completely differently to anyone else he knows.

Makoto breathes in.

“I know what you’re about to say,” says Byakuya. “No, I will not go in the sauna with her. Or anyone. Your little power trip ends here. It has already got you big-headed, talking back to me.”

“Actually, no,” says Makoto in a level tone. Byakuya and Touko stare at him. “I think it’s best neither of you go in there with anyone. I don’t think anyone would be able to endure a night with you without getting physical.”

He walks out without looking back.

Maybe some people can’t be helped.

***

Though Byakuya, Touko and Yasuhiro don’t participate in any bonding sessions in the sauna, they also don’t seem interested in committing murders. Yes, Byakuya and Touko insult anyone who hovers around them for too long. And yes, Yasuhiro talks an awful lot about how much money organs sell for on the black market. Despite that, Byakuya claims he won’t allow Monobear to pressure him into killing, Yasuhiro has mentioned about some people on the outside who want his head on a platter and Touko is content so long as she’s near Byakuya.

If they’re not trying to murder anyone, Makoto can’t be too disappointed that they won't go to the sauna. The only one who is upset by the lack of killing is Monobear, who after weeks of absence, suddenly materialises in front of Makoto within a few paces from his room’s door.

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” says Monobear, whose robot paws are positioned so it looks like it’s holding up two middle fingers. It stares up at him, trembling, like whoever is controlling it is shaking as they hold the controller. Makoto imagines one for the PlayStation.

His lips twitch into a smirk. “Did you come to admit defeat?”

Monobear freezes, then taps its paws together. If it could sweat, it probably would be drenched right now.

“I never expected you to come up with such a scheme,” it says. “I don’t have any cameras in the sauna so I can’t see what goes on, but I’ve watched them as they’ve swaggered out of the locker room. Argh...! Yes, you win. You’ve bested me.”

Makoto’s grin widens. Monobear tilts its head to one side and stops trembling.

“... but am I saying that because I mean it, or do I want to lull you into a false sense of security so you’re unprepared for what I have planned next?”

The corners of Makoto’s lips droop.

“We’ll still defeat you,” he says. Monobear giggles into its paws.

“Upupupu... We’ll see.”

Then it leaves.

Makoto doesn’t move from where he’s standing, fists clenched at his sides. He can’t let what Monobear said get to him. The only reason Monobear would mention having something planned is to unnerve him, not because it actually knows how to counterattack.

That doesn’t stop his stomach from hardening though. Makoto almost wants to go back to his room and sleep the feeling off, but he forces himself to continue toward the store room. Earlier that day, Mondo uncovered a crate of cola bottles, and Makoto wants to keep some in his room for convenience. The stock might run out if he leaves it too late. Also, he doesn’t want to be out past ten. While he doesn’t think he’s in any danger anymore, he still intends to abide by the rule the class agreed to.

Just after he passes the last dorm door in the corridor, someone flits in front of him, blocking his path. He bumps into them and takes a step back as he steadies himself.

“Sorry,” he says, looking up. Opposite him is Kyouko Kirigiri, who despite being walked into, doesn’t so much as wobble in her high heeled boots. She doesn’t blink either, staring at him as he offers an apologetic smile. “I didn’t see you there.”

“That’s quite apparent.”

Kyouko doesn’t move out of the way, frozen to the spot like an ice sculpture. In contrast to her icy demeanour, he feels his face warm. She seems to be waiting for him to do or say something, but he isn’t sure what.

“So... um, how was last night with Celes-san?” he asks. “Did you resolve your disagreement about whether gloves or socks are more intimate?”

“Yes,” she says. “But...”

Makoto’s back slams against the wall. A gasp whooshes out of him in surprise. Before he can move off, Kyouko’s hand strikes forward, landing just next to his head. He freezes.

“Naegi-kun.” She stares down at him. “I am not happy with you.”

“H-Huh?”

“You have been sending all of us to the sauna to settle our differences and get to know each other better, yet you have not gone in there a single time.”

He shrinks back, as hard as that is to do when she has him practically pinned to the wall. “I don’t really fight with anyone here.”

Her frown darkens. “I believe you are a pushover, a hypocrite and a coward. I resent you right now.”

His lips quiver but no words come out. He hadn’t realised their friendship had soured so much. Or at all. She leans in, almost pressing into him. Her long lavender hair sweeps toward him like knives. They don’t touch each other, but his heart pounds so intensely that he thinks she might feel the vibrations in the space jammed between them.

When he breathes in, her rose-vanilla scent sticks in his throat like barbs. She tilts her head to one side, very slightly.

“I think it’s time that we go to the sauna together,” she murmurs. “Is anyone booked in there tonight?”

“No, I - ”

“Good.”

Kyouko withdraws. Makoto’s knees nearly buckle as the weight of her proximity lifts. She starts walking away, and he follows her, lightheaded. The sauna isn’t too far, but his mind is quick to dig its teeth into what she told him. About how she resented him. Her expression had been cool and guarded when she spoke, as it often is, so he doesn’t know if she really meant it.

At the least, she seems angry with him. As they walk, she won’t look at Makoto at all. He doesn’t understand. The reason he hasn’t gone to the sauna isn’t because he thinks he’s better than anyone else, but that he hasn’t clashed with anyone enough to warrant it. Also, he’s pretty sure Kyouko doesn’t dislike using it. She has visited the sauna multiple times without complaint. Just the other night, she went in with Celes for a third time.

He looks at Kyouko and glimpses something dark on her pale neck. His head jerks back.

“Kirigiri-san?” Kyouko doesn’t answer. Makoto’s eyes are wide. “You have a bruise on your neck.”

She slows. Stops. Places her hand to the mark.

“Things got... intense with Celes-san last night,” she says.

“Celes-san did that to you?”

“Yes.” Kyouko keeps her back to him. “She can be very passionate.”

“Wow...”

As successful as the sauna has proven to be, this isn’t the first time someone has come out of there with a minor injury. Leon had a bruise after a visit with Sayaka. Funnily enough, that had been on his neck as well. And Aoi once said that Junko had been a bit rough with her, leaving a few marks, though he hadn’t been able to see where.

Makoto would prefer it if they didn’t get violent at all, but at least their injuries are only surface-level. They pass through the noren hanging in the doorway and arrive at the locker room, where Kyouko stops in the centre.

“Naegi-kun.”

“Yes?”

“Please have your back to me while we are undressing. I will do the same.”

“Undressing...” Realisation finally hits him and he yelps, shoving a foot back to steady himself. Somehow it had slipped his mind that most people went into the sauna in only a towel. He tugs at his hood but even as he holds it away from his neck, he feels like he’s being strangled. “I... um... I can keep my clothes on. I mean, you can too. Ha ha ha...”

Kyouko’s inscrutable countenance does not crack. “Strip. Now.”

She doesn’t raise her voice, but her command nonetheless whips against him. He straightens sharply.

“Y-Yes, Kirigiri-san...”

Makoto grabs himself a towel. His hands shake and fumble as he peels off his clothing. All he can think about is Kyouko doing the same behind him. Instead of trainers, she would be unzipping her boots, and he would be tugging off trousers while she shimmies her skirt down her milky legs. The mental images set his face aflame. If he turned around right now, he could see...

No. Kyouko told him to visit the sauna with her so they could repair their relationship. Makoto can’t let himself be distracted. The fact the thought crossed his mind is disrespectful enough.

“I’m ready,” comes her quiet voice. “You can look now.”

Like him, her body is swathed in a towel. Though she’s covered up, his stomach still coils at the outline of her body and the bare expanse of her shoulders and arms. Her hands hover over her chest, and he notes that she has kept her gloves on but he doesn’t question it. Her gloves are an integral part to her, like Celes’s twin drill pigtails or his own ahoge. He tweaks the knot in his towel, hoping it’s secure enough. Focusing on it also gives him a reason to not look too much in her direction, though he has no reason to avoid her. This is just a trip to the sauna where they’ll share grievances and bond and become better friends for it. Like everyone else has done.

“Let’s go,” she says, and he makes himself look at her. Colour has crept into her cheeks, but he only sees her face for a second before she turns away.

They pass through the baths, heading toward the back where the door to the sauna is located. Makoto concentrates on keeping his breathing in time with the slap of his feet against the tiles. Kyouko flings the door open. When she and Makoto look in, both freeze.

“Togami-kun?” Makoto blurts.

He recognises the mop of blond hair immediately. With a jolt, Byakuya springs back from being on all fours, landing on his backside further along the bench. Doing so reveals Touko, who had been lying beneath him. She shrieks and adjusts her towel while Byakuya hastily repositions his legs.

“... and... Fukawa-san...?” Makoto’s eyes dart between their red faces as he struggles to understand what he’s seeing. Though it’s pretty damn obvious. The moisture on their lips isn’t sweat.

“D-Don’t you know how to knock?” snaps Touko. She tugs her towel higher, even though her chest is already covered. “Get out! Out!”

“Togami-kun, you told me you didn’t want to go in here with anyone.”

“I did,” admits Byakuya. Without his glasses, he looks... not younger, exactly, but more vulnerable. More human. He’s also without his shirt, and he has a more toned physique than Makoto expected. “But what you claimed earlier, about how no one could endure a whole night without getting physical with me, dug under my skin. I thought I would come in here with Fukawa and prove you wrong.”

“When I said ‘physical’, I meant fighting.” Makoto pulls his gaze up and away from Byakuya’s chest. “Not making out. The sauna is meant to make people reconcile and deepen their bonds.”

Byakuya scoffs, “Do you honestly believe everyone has been coming here to have heart-to-heart conversations? You can’t be serious. Every single pair you have sent in here has been using this place as a... a kissing booth.”

“What?” Makoto stares.

“How can someone be so dense?” Touko titters. She doesn’t have glasses on either, and if she can see Makoto without them, he must be hanging upside down in her vision from where she’s lying down. “Didn’t you notice everyone’s reasonings for these supposed fallings-out becoming more and more preposterous? Asahina and Ishimaru argued over the best swim stroke. Enoshima and Kuwata threatened to come to blows about whether a certain shade was blood orange or red. Maizono and Oowada had a shouting match about whether dogs or cats are cuter.”

“I...” Makoto’s teeth scrape against his lips. “Why would they go here to do that?”

“It’s obvious,” says Touko. “There are no cameras. And with you booking out the sauna, you prevent others from coming in when it is in use so there is no threat of intrusion.”

Makoto shakes his head. All this time, he had prided himself on finding a way to defeat Monobear. He thought he had been instilling the others with good values, with hope. Now he feels like he has run into a boulder that had been painted to give the illusion of there being a tunnel. No wonder Monobear has been so uncomfortable about it all. It makes too much sense.

But if what they’re claiming is true, that everyone apart from him knew the sauna was being used this way, that meant Kyouko invited him here with the intention to do the same. His head spins trying to process this new information. The rising heat from the sauna doesn’t help, even with him in just a towel. How Mondo survived a night with his clothes on is beyond understanding.

Assuming he kept his clothes on the whole time, that is.

“Everyone knew,” says Touko snidely. “Except, it seems, you.”

“Something about this place makes those inside give in to... urges.” Byakuya shudders. “I chose the person who fills me with the most revulsion to come in with me, and yet even I couldn’t resist.”

The smirk on Touko’s face shrivels. Byakuya doesn’t look at her.

“Is this true?” Makoto asks Kyouko, his heart racing. He doesn’t know what answer he would prefer. If he wants his plan to have been running exactly as he intended, or for Kyouko to announce she brought him here with the intention to have her way with him for several hours.

Makoto doesn’t know how he would react if the latter turned out to be the case. She’s cool, she’s smart, she’s intimidating and she’s cute. Him, though? Why, he’s just Makoto Naegi. His brain would probably explode.

Kyouko combs her fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her shoulder, before folding her arms over her chest. Her chin hitches up.

“No. It’s not true,” she says calmly. “We have all been using it just as you said. To talk.”

There’s no telltale movement to her face. Her lashes don’t quiver and the corners of her lips don’t tweak upward. Kyouko is impossible to read.

Byakuya speaks first. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” She is stony-faced. “We genuinely just sit in the sauna and talk for hours. It seems you two were under the wrong impression.”

“That’s-!” Touko gets out one word before cutting herself off, at a loss.

“B-But...” Byakuya’s stammer draws Makoto’s gaze. He has seen a range of expressions on Byakuya’s face. Boredom. Anger. Concentration. Smugness. This one is new. Harder to define. His eyes are wide but unseeing. His mouth moves but no sound comes out. It’s a riddle that Makoto can’t quite work out.

Kyouko shrugs. “You claimed you chose Fukawa-san to accompany you as she fills you with the most revulsion, but I believe you mistook attraction for disgust. You just really wanted to make out with her, didn’t you?”

Byakuya twitches while Touko bites her lip, staring up at him, but he doesn’t look at her, or anyone. He rises off the bench, stands still for a moment, and then bolts out of the sauna.

“Wait for me, Byakuya-sama!” Touko shrieks. With much less grace, she tumbles off the bench and staggers after him.

When they’re gone, Makoto looks at Kyouko.

“So no one was using it as a kissing booth?” he asks.

“Oh, we all totally have been,” says Kyouko, smirking.

He stares. “So why did you say...?”

“I wanted to mess with Togami-kun. Gaslight him a little bit.”

Kyouko takes Makoto’s hand and pulls him into the sauna. The door shuts behind them.

#togafuka #touko fukawa #byakuya togami #toko fukawa #danganronpa #togafukaweek #one shot #fanfiction #makoto naegi #kiyotaka ishimaru #mondo oowada #everyone is in this i'm too lazy to tag #dr1

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zenonaa · 6 months

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You are epic

#thank you! ;w;

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zenonaa · 6 months

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i received feedback for my original novel from a publisher and i want you guys to know their favourite characters were the ones inspired by togmai and fukwaa hahahahahaaha

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zenonaa · 6 months

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do you specify byakuya's mother's name as anastazja with a zj to differentiate her from the canonical anastasia togami (the mother of the weather triplets, asa/hiru/yoru togami) from the side novels?

It's mostly that Anastazja is the Polish spelling of the name, and I headcanon his mother as being from Poland. I also headcanon her maiden name as being Polanski, which is what Togami used as part of his disguise in the novel. These are all headcanons of course!!

The name means resurrection and Togami at the end of the competition becomes The Togami, so to speak. He goes from being out of the competition ('dead' as he refers to the exiled siblings) to being the only one 'alive'. He resurrects, in a way.

yes i like to put too much thought into things most people won't realise sdfdsfds

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zenonaa · 6 months

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Just spreading some love on fanfic reddit<3

ahhhhhhh ; w ; !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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zenonaa · 6 months

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i am alive i'm just uh. editing a whole lot. it's a togafuka week* fic but features a bunch of other ships for reasons

#the pay off is worth it i promise #i have 1600 words left to edit #then a final read through #oh god i just realised i can make togami say ishimaru hasn't got money to pay for anything yet alone a mind #do i make togami sink that low?we'll see. we'll se #*let alone

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zenonaa · 7 months

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the rest of my tofu week fics will be late but i am working on them! here are out of context snips of the last four for you to enjoy lol

#togafuka #togafukaweek

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zenonaa · 7 months

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Fandom: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc Rating: Mature (N S F W) Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya, Genocider Syo | Genocide Jack/Togami Byakuya Characters: Togami Byakuya, Genocider Syo | Genocide Jack CW: Mention of sexual activity, allusions to childhood abuse Summary: Syo awakes in her bed, but she isn't alone.

Comments: TogaFuka Week Day 2: Falling! I’ll admit I wasn’t sure on this one because Fukawa doesn’t actually feature in it, but there is definitely TogaFuka in it. And also because it gets a bit... well, you’ll see. :X I hope you all like it anyway.

💖 Please like, reblog, leave kudos and/or comment on AO3 💖

***

Genocider Syo was used to waking up in unorthodox places. Classrooms. Car back seats. Subways. Alleyways. Teachers’ closets. Without her glasses on, she couldn’t distinguish much in her blurred vision, but she still worked out where she was. Vertical streaks of what she knew to be tall stacks of books crowded around where she lay. They had been stationed near the bed by Touko at some point after she arrived at Hope’s Peak, presumably for easy access in case she felt like reading at night. However, Syo would sooner use them as toilet paper. Knowing Touko, they were all boring romance novels. If they had been something entertaining like yaoi, that would have been another story.

A gentle floral scent wafted over her. The aroma originated from a table too far away to see. For all Touko hated baths, she loathed bad smells, and Syo knew her to use stick-type air fresheners. Syo scrunched her nose and made to sit up, only to find her body pinned to the spot. Her eyes widened.

There was pressure around her middle. Squeezing her, like a pair of scissors. Trapping her.

Syo’s arms weren’t bound, leaving her free to feel around with her hands. Her fingers brushed over something long and slender resting on top of her, perpendicular to her body. She followed it to her chest and came upon two sets of hard bumps. Flesh. Warm. Knuckles. Which meant what she had touched first had been an arm. After the knuckles, she quickly located fingers that weren’t hers and realised what was happening.

Somebody was in bed with her. Holding her from behind.

She inched her hand toward her leg, as if it were a minefield, only for her fingers to meet bare skin. Her holster was missing.

And so were her clothes.

Syo was nude.

Blistering heat rose to her face. Shot to her extremities. If she was breathing heavily, she couldn’t hear it over the roar between her ears. She threw her head back, smashing it into the person behind her.

“Ow!”

The arms loosened their hold. Syo lurched away and scrambled for the bedside table, toppling over the stacks of books in her haste. As soon as she found her glasses, whoever was here was going to die. She rummaged around until she heard a familiar clatter as something tumbled to the floor. With her heartbeat pounding in her head, she dropped into a crouch and patted around. When her hand fell upon what felt like glasses, she shoved them onto her face.

Her vision remained blurred.

They were glasses. Just not hers.

“Yours are on the bed still,” said the other person.

Syo froze. She had no reason to trust them, but then again, they had no reason to lie. From their perspective, she was just Touko Fukawa, a shy recluse with a stutter who fell for any guy that gave her more than a second glance. They didn’t know her intention to murder them yet. Most likely, they were pretending to be a gentleman by trying to be helpful.

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed away the other glasses. As she rose and searched the bed for her eyewear, she wondered what sort of chump Touko ended up with this time. If he was the type of person who would beg for his life as she stabbed him. If he would cry. If he would wet himself. She found her glasses, put them on and looked down.

There, on her bed, was Byakuya Togami.

Though they had never spoken to each other, she recognised him. Knew his name. Byakuya’s teacher sometimes called on him during class. Other times, students talked to him or referred to him by name. Syo never engaged, staring silently at the back of his head. She studied his posture, his blond locks. Very chic. Very grabbable. If she was lucky, she would catch a glimpse of his side profile reflected in the windowed wall beside them. He was very handsome. Aquiline nose. Long lashes.

Since arriving at Hope’s Peak, Syo hadn’t fronted a lot. There must not have been many hotties around Touko. But on one occasion when she woke up not in a classroom, she explored the campus and came upon Byakuya in the cafeteria. He drank expensive coffee. Later, he spent a couple of hours in the library. She even learned where his dorm room was.

He was tall, and she was short. He was blonde, and she was a brunette. He was handsome, and she was ugly. Yet here they were, together. Her eyes shifted down from his frowning face to his chest. Then lower. Lower.

It turned out that other than wearing glasses, they had something else in common. They were both naked.

“You’re the handsomest bed bug I’ve ever seen,” she said, and she couldn’t wait to squash him.

He sat up straighter, one hand on his chest while the other tugged the duvet over his crotch. A smirk danced across her lips. Her tongue gave an amused flick.

“It’s a bit late to become a prude,” she said. “It’s pretty obvious what went on.”

Byakuya cringed and coughed into his fist. The fact his nose wasn’t bloody led her to believe that when she flung her head back, she hadn’t headbutted him in the face but struck his chest instead. Damn. No matter, he would be bleeding soon enough. He’d be staining her bedsheet like period blood on panties, and then she would hang him up all pretty like with her scissors.

Her scissors...

With her vision restored, she surveyed the room, searching for a smudge of brown leather or a metallic glint. When Syo was born, Touko initially dismantled her scissors and buried the pieces in the garden or threw them in the trash on the other side of the city. In response, Syo made more, always replacing what Touko destroyed. Touko risked getting caught whenever she disposed of them, so she quickly learned to leave them alone. Leave them in a holster on her right leg, even while she slept.

Just in case.

Syo’s fingers flexed. The lack of scissor loops around them made her itch.

“Is something wrong?” Byakuya asked calmly.

She snapped her head toward him. He had put his glasses on. Without them, he had still been handsome, but the addition of eyewear brought him to an even higher level of hotness. Fluttering stirred in her chest, and the furrow in her brow dissolved. They made him seem all that much sterner and cool, and those were the funnest guys to crack apart. The first pair she had found must have been his, and she must not have thrown them very far if they landed within his reach on the bed.

All the exercise Syo got from killing had been negated by Touko sitting for hours on end, reading or writing. No matter. Syo was about to have another exercise session as soon as she reunited with her scissors. Touko wouldn’t have thrown them away. They had to be nearby.

“You weren’t wearing your scissors on your leg when I came in last night,” Byakuya said. He paused, then added, “Genocider Syo.”

Oh. Her tongue flickered. This had never happened before. Byakuya Togami was definitely going to die today.

Syo poked her index fingers against her cheeks and said in a cutesy voice, “Who, me?”

“Yes, you. Your demeanour is drastically different from Fukawa’s.” He looked her up and down. It was a shame that her body didn’t drastically change depending on who was fronting, because she would have loved it if her boobs got bigger whenever she was out. “You are undeniably Genocider Syo.”

Despite being in the presence of a serial killer, Byakuya sounded calm. And his expression was not that of someone who knew they were about to die, but of someone who had been minorly inconvenienced like a person about to hang up their washing outside only for the rain to start chucking down. Byakuya seemed to be making the same mistake as all the men before him. He was underestimating her.

“I don’t recall us having an official introduction to each other.” She placed her hands onto her hips. “Did it happen off screen? Sounds like lazy writing.”

“I’ve read your case file.”

“And you deduced that your stinky classmate was actually adorable and quirky me?”

“Fukawa revealed your origin and presence to me,” he explained.

Syo cocked her head to one side. “You stuck your sausage in her bun, yet you’re on a surname only basis?”

He didn’t answer. Only averted his gaze and grimaced. Telling someone else about Syo was a first for Gloomy. No matter. Corpses couldn’t talk. She would extract all the information she wanted out of him, partly for curiosity but mostly so it wouldn’t happen again. Then she’d silence him for good.

“Did she tell you about me before or after you fucked her?” Syo asked.

Byakuya tensed. Usually, she would get satisfaction out of making him squirm, but all she could think about at that moment was killing him. Her stare didn’t relent.

“... Before,” he said. “Quite some time before.”

“So my secret’s out?”

That would explain why the window had a metal plate bolted onto it. Syo must have finally been caught and put in prison, where Byakuya had decided to work as an officer. Though, it was weird that the bedroom was otherwise the same as it was in Hope’s Peak. She always imagined her cell to have a toilet in the corner and less ugly wallpaper.

“I haven’t told anyone about you,” he said. “Fukawa is afraid of you, and she wanted me to help her keep you locked away. She doesn’t want you to kill anymore.”

Syo gave a solitary bark of laughter. “Tough shit for her.”

It’d be like asking a baker to stop baking, or a painter to stop painting. A killer killed. Two plus two equaled four. Byakuya was going to die soon. Her fingers ached, craving the cool metal of her scissors. Normally, she wasn’t too bothered about not sharing memories with Touko because she found Touko incredibly plain and boring. But now she needed access to what Touko knew, so she would know where her scissors were. They must have been somewhere in her dorm, just out of sight.

Her eyes widened as a memory resurfaced, of herself, recently born, searching for a certain page from a notebook in Touko’s old bedroom. After rifling through her desk and rotten wardrobe, she had checked under the bed and pulled out a shoe box. Inside were ripped paper dolls and a slip of paper with the new address of their childhood friend. And a pair of scissors.

In the present, Syo squatted down, checked under the bed, and grinned.

Bingo.

“I’ve got to hand it to Gloomy. I didn’t expect her to bed such a hotty.” Syo strapped the leather holster to her thigh and stood up, a pair of scissors twinkling on her fingers. Byakuya’s lips thinned. “Is this supposed to be some opposites attract bullshit? Or do you have another motive?”

Some people befriended Touko to play tricks on her for their own amusement. Or to take advantage of her, whether it be due to her fame, the money they perceived her to own or what she had between her legs.

Whatever his reason, Byakuya didn’t say. He didn’t say anything, looking at her scissors.

“I’m talking to ya, you dumb blond!” She scissored the air ferociously. “If your mouth doesn’t work, I’ll cut away at the corners to open it up wide enough.”

His head jerked back. “I visited Fukawa because I wanted to ask her some questions.”

“Uh huh...” Normally, the questions that people asked Syo were either ‘what are you doing?’ or ‘are you crazy?’ Mostly, they didn’t ask any questions. They pleaded for their life. “Then afterwards you did the dirty together?”

He nudged at his glasses and glanced away. “My visit admittedly went in a different direction than I intended.”

“What did you ask her?”

Byakuya’s lips pressed together tightly. Syo almost bit through her tongue. She was getting real sick of having to prompt responses from him. In a flash, she shoved him onto his back and straddled him, her scissors poised underneath his chin. A small gasp popped out of him.

Her hand shook slightly. His chest rose, and fell. Rose, and fell.

With her victims, she usually had to shut them up quickly so their bawling couldn’t draw anyone over. If she was lucky, she caught her prey in an alleyway, or they agreed to meet up with Touko somewhere secluded. Those times, she could play with them for longer. Could bask in their screams. She liked it when they squirmed. When they thrashed. Her body would tingle like an itch finally being scratched.

Byakuya stared up at her, unmoving. Syo pressed the flat edge of the scissor blades against his neck.

“Answer me,” she snarled, spraying spittle onto his cheek. He swallowed.

“I asked her why she still loved me.”

A shudder ran down her back. She had never felt so dirty. A smirk pulled on the corners of her lips, then she threw her head back and burst out laughing.

“Did I say something amusing?” asked Byakuya blankly.

Syo tilted her head forward, the wide grin on her face almost painful.

“Gloomy sure has been busy.” She traced her scissors across the underside of his chin, not quite hard enough to draw blood. Not yet. “Since she enrolled here, she’s always been cooped up in her room or in class. Somehow, she managed to bag you without me realising.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed deliciously. Her scissors itched toward it.

“We have spent more time together recently,” he said.

Syo’s other hand drew out another pair of scissors from her holster, which she traced over his organs on his bare chest. Lung. Liver. Kidney. Heart. Though she wasn’t booksmart, she had watched plenty of gore anime. If they didn’t already, medical schools needed to start including mandatory modules where students watched that genre. They could learn a lot.

“You’ve read my case file, hm?” she said.

“Yes.”

Byakuya had sharp scissors exploring his chest and a second pair cradling his chin, both wielded by a prolific serial killer, but he hadn’t even tried fighting her off. Or shouting. Begging.

“So you know what I do to hot men?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not gonna cry for help? Plead for your life?”

His exterior was calm, but telltale sweat sheened on his face. “There’s no point. The rooms are soundproof, and you are positively deranged.”

Then she could take as long as she wanted.

Keeping the scissors loops on her fingers, she held his face in both her hands. Then she bent down and slowly dragged her tongue across his forehead. Her body pushed down against him, their heat sticking together. The bed creaked. She felt his muscles underneath her. How he stiffened, how he barely breathed. How he kept his hands off her.

The salty tang on her tongue served to remind her that he was indeed human despite his arrogant facade. When she peeled herself off him and rose up, she expected the blood to have drained from his face. Instead, his cheeks were tinted pink. Syo snorted as she seated herself on his duvet-covered crotch. So he wasn’t emotionless after all.

“I’d call you a pathetic virgin if I didn’t know you bonked Gloomy last night.” She stroked his cheek with the tip of her scissors. “I wonder if rich brats have gold blood.”

“Why don’t you check?” he replied, deadpan.

Syo tensed. That was not the response she expected, or wanted. She glared down at him.

“Why are you so freaking calm? You’re gonna die, rich boy. Your family won’t ever know who did you in.”

A humourless smile chipped his lips.

“I’m not rich anymore,” he said. “And I am the only living Togami.”

She squinted one eye. “What happened to the rest of ‘em?”

“They perished when the world ended. That’s why we’re all sheltering in this building.”

“The world ended? Damn. Took it long enough. Well.” She elevated her hand. Her scissors hung over him like a hawk. “You won’t be the only living Togami for long.”

Syo swung her fist down, the tapered end of her scissors leading the way. Byakuya’s chest bucked, but not hard enough to knock her off-balance. Probably a reflex. She aimed her scissors at his eye. He was powerless.

Her hand jerked to a stop. The tip of her scissors rested on his glasses lens. Another hair width, and her blades would pierce it. Crack it. Plunge into his blue eye. As soon as she applied any pressure, her scissors would crash through and sink into his socket.

She hesitated.

“I would be lying if I said I’ve never wondered what happened during your murders,” he said.

“Eh?” Syo’s brow furrowed. He had distracted her. That was why she hadn’t stabbed him yet.

“The thought has passed my mind in a few quiet moments. Despite your scrawny build, you’re able to murder and crucify full-grown men. You’re able to find the perfect location to murder them in without being witnessed. Alleyways. Dirty hotel rooms. Parks. You’ve been reported to linger around the crime scenes before escaping, yet you’ve never been caught.”

“And I never will be.” She tightened her grip on the scissors. “You can compliment me all you want, pretty boy, but you’re still gonna die.”

“You’ve said. Do you usually talk this much to your marks?”

With how she twitched, he was lucky she didn’t scratch his glasses.

“I’m gonna...” Syo shifted her weight, readying up to stab him, and that was when she felt it. A lump under the duvet, between his legs. Pressing upward, against her.

Neither moved or said anything for several long seconds.

“Are you...?” She stared down at him.

“It’s a normal human bodily function,” he mumbled.

Syo was the one who was supposed to be getting a kick out of this situation, not him. This entire encounter had been messed up from the start. Ever since she woke up, he had left her flustered. None of the others had made her hesitate before. Byakuya was different. And he had overstayed his welcome.

She glided her scissors down to the underside of chin and pressed the blades’ intersection against his neck. Though she didn’t cut him, she imagined a bead of blood popping out, then spilling over his neck as more and more gushed out. Splashing onto his chest. The bedsheets. Staining her hands, her face. Her heartbeat drummed between her ears. Vibrations hurtled through her body.

“You asked Gloomy why still loved you,” said Syo. “Why?”

“I asked Fukawa why she still loved me despite the Togami name becoming worthless,” he answered in a flat tone. “I lost my wealth. Influence. Power. Identity. Yet she still brought me coffee. Still asked me for errands for her to do. To everyone else, I am Togami. To her, I am Byakuya-sama...”

The scissors needed to shut now.

“You think I care about your sob story?” Her hands shook. “I know worse ones.”

She’d experienced worse ones.

“Do you want to know what her answer was?” said Byakuya. “Why she still chased after me?”

Syo didn’t want to know. “What did she say?”

“Fukawa said I was still the same person to her. The person she loved.”

Byakuya knew her identity. If he left this room alive, he would tell everyone about her especially now that she had tried killing him. This was assuming he told the truth earlier about not revealing it to anyone yet. No, they would have tossed Touko out if they suspected her to be so dangerous. The only people who knew about her were in this room. Either way, this could be the last chance she got to murder someone. He could have been the only hot guy left.

Yet she couldn’t kill him. It was as if her scissors had rusted. Or her hands. Or her heart.

She straightened up and burst out laughing.

“Gwah ha ha!” Syo clutched her stomach, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “And I thought a cute loveable serial killer was total whiplash. Who knew under your vanilla-ass, you’re a certified freak! You’re rock hard down there, but totally soft up there. You know what? I’m not gonna kill you yet. I want more! More fun! Ooh, I’m edging so hard right now!”

It was Byakuya’s turn to look bewildered.

“You’re not concerned that I’m going to tell everyone about your identity?” he asked.

“Nope! No one will believe you. And besides...” She bent down, pressing her nose against his. Their glasses clicked together. “... You’ve known for a while but haven’t told anyone. You’re like me, aren’t ya? Each bite has to be perfect. At the right angle, and the right time. Otherwise, you’ll make a mess. It’s like eating a meatball sub.”

Syo rolled her wet tongue up his lips before straightening. She brought the end of her braid to her nose.

“I’ll let Gloomy take over from here. See you around, my white knight!”

Her nose itched. As she shut her eyes, about to sneeze, she observed Byakuya touch his fingers to his lips.

#togafuka #togafukaweek #genocider syo #byakuya togami #danganronpa #syogami #one shot #fanfiction #pinlc post #n s f w

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zenonaa · 7 months

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Fandom: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya Characters: Fukawa Touko, Togami Byakuya, Naegi Makoto Summary: After Togami is 'forced' to eat Fukawa's Valentine's Day chocolate, he enlists Naegi's help to find out how much it cost so he can conpensate her appropriately.

Comments: Day 1, Gift! Valentine's Day fic in October, why not?

💖 Please like, reblog, leave kudos and/or comment on AO3 💖

***

Before Byakuya Togami learned to read, he would tug on his butler’s trouser leg until Aloysius brought him to his mansion’s library. Behind the carved wooden door, books upon books filled Byakuya’s vision. Some sat low enough for his toddler hands to grab. Others soared high on shelves only ladders could reach. Once Aloysius had found a book that Byakuya didn’t throw to the floor, they would sit together on a sofa bench and Byakuya would point at the words he wanted Aloysius to read aloud.

Hope’s Peak’s library wasn’t as big as the one in his childhood home, but it sufficed. The recently opened library in the east quarter of campus spanned two floors, stitched together by winding staircases. As Byakuya emerged into the library, he scanned his surroundings and found it almost vacant of people.

Perfect. Byakuya liked to spend evenings here, and he liked to do so undisturbed. Despite the darkening sky visible through the window wall, the interior shone metallic silver. Optimal reading conditions. He grabbed a book from the crime section and sat down at one of the many tables dotted around. For the next several hours, he intended to read in peace and quiet.

“This is for you.”

Not even ten minutes could have passed. Immediately recognising the voice, Byakuya grimaced and looked up. Touko Fukawa stood by his table. His eyes lowered from her pink face to the dark green box in her grubby hands.

“What is that?” he asked, though he already knew because today was the fourteenth of February. Valentine’s Day.

It was also why the library was especially empty. Everyone else was either on a romantic date or partying with their friends. Sayaka Maizono organised a gathering for the girls in their class, which he knew because Touko loudly declined the invitation in their classroom a few days ago. And he also knew most of the guys planned to eavesdrop on said party, spearheaded by Leon, Yasuhiro and Hifumi. For ‘Man’s Greatest Ambition’, for free chocolate and to fit in in that order. Fools.

Byakuya didn’t need to concern himself with that sort of uncouth thing. His sperm would one day be sent off and used to artificially inseminate women from around the globe, all appraised and deemed to be of exemplary quality. Then he would be coupled with the mother of whoever was chosen to be his heir. Even then, that would only be for appearances. His parents hadn’t been in the same continent since he was selected to be his father’s heir.

Which meant Touko, standing there with her hunched shoulders and messy braids, was doomed the moment the plan first sprouted in her barren brain.

“They’re chocolates,” she said.

Irritation pinched between his brows. “What possessed you to blight my eyesight with that monstrosity?”

“I...” Touko faltered.

He pointed at the box. “Throw it in the garbage immediately.”

“B-But...!”

“Can you not follow a simple order? Let me make it even simpler: leave.”

Touko shifted her weight between feet, gripping the box tightly like she thought it might fly away. Byakuya pushed up his glasses and returned his gaze to the book. A few moments later, he heard her footsteps retreat, growing quieter and quieter until he could hear her no more.

After her departure, the only sounds were the buzz of the library lighting and flutter of paper as he turned the pages. As he trudged through stilted prose. Unclear metaphors. Paragraphs describing women’s anatomy by someone who knew even less about them than Hifumi Yamada.

By the end of the first quarter, he no longer cared if the murderer was the victim’s wife or a fellow board member. It was probably the butler, anyway. Byakuya shut the book, intending to seek out another, only to freeze when he saw a certain object on the table.

The box of chocolates that Touko should have taken with her.

His teeth gritted together. What a hopeless girl. Now he would have to go out of his way to dispose of them. Before enrolling at Hope’s Peak, whenever a classmate gave him chocolates, he would pass them along to his staff who would whisk them away to be tossed into the trash. When he became the sole heir, his father took him on a tour of the Togami Waste Disposal Centre. One section was dedicated to the destruction of frivolous gifts.

He remembered his father placing a hand onto his young teenage shoulder as conveyor belts chugged and machinery clunked.

“Why do you think we do this?” his father had said as a machine hacked apart a neatly wrapped box. It chewed and snarled before regurgitating cardboard vomit into a waste bin, chocolate chunks like teeth mixed in the refuse.

“In case they’re laced with poison?” had been Byakuya’s response.

“That’s one reason. But even if we were sure they are regular chocolate, they still need getting rid of. Love is like chocolate, Byakuya. It may taste pleasurable, but it’s bad for you. It will rot away your insides. Togamis do not indulge in such weaknesses.”

Young Byakuya had nodded. “Yes, Togami-sama.”

Older Byakuya rose to his feet. Just the sight of the box made his skin crawl. Navy ribbon strangled the forest green foil like a hand around a throat. They weren’t even colours associated with Valentine’s day. The sooner it was obliterated, the better. But he would dispose of it later. After he finished reading everything he wanted to read. He wouldn’t allow Touko’s mistake to alter his plans. While he searched for a better book than the dross he had acquired before, he hoped the box of chocolates would self-combust by the time he returned to the table.

It didn’t, continuing to exist. Byakuya started reading again. Like before, the only sounds to be heard were paper rustling and the overhead lights humming.

Until his stomach rumbled.

No one was around to hear it, yet he still cringed. It was a ghastly, unsophisticated noise. Pursing his lips, he read on, even as his stomach clenched and hardened. He had eaten a light dinner that day. Tonkatsu pork. But that wasn’t his fault because he had wanted to eat quickly so he could return to the library sooner.

Another gurgle escaped his gut. His shoulders squared and he held the book closer to his face. When his stomach rumbled again, he grimaced and lowered the book. And saw the box of chocolates on the table.

No. Absolutely not.

Byakuya almost shoved the open pages into his face, but he wasn’t a baby lacking object permanence. As if he had X-ray vision, he could see the box of chocolates sitting menacingly on the table. Though, he hadn’t actually seen the chocolates themselves. Just the outer wrapping. But there had to be chocolates within it.

His stomach growled. The noise wrung his body’s every nerve. Tightening his grip on the book, he tried to read more, except after a few sentences, he realised he couldn’t recall what he had just read. Shapes resembling words floated in his head before dissolving. He went back and tried reading one line. One single line.

By the time he reached the end of the compound sentence, the beginning had already washed away. A howl heaved his stomach and this time choked out a gasp from his lips. Byakuya slammed down the book and grabbed the box. He wasn’t going to eat them. Death appealed more than allowing a single chocolate to touch his tongue. All he wanted to do was see what they looked like. As soon as he saw how ugly and unappetising they were, he would be turned off immediately.

Byakuya tugged on the ribbon, but the bow’s tight knot wouldn’t loosen. How counterproductive. Surely it made more sense for it to unravel easily so it could be opened quicker. After a few minutes of picking and pinching and pulling, he managed to break into the box. Inside was a spread of milk and dark chocolates, all packed into individual paper cases. Some of the chocolates were round, others square. A few were drizzled in chocolate, and a couple had nuts on them.

How thoughtless of Touko. What if he was allergic to nuts?

He wasn’t, but still.

To his displeasure, looking at the chocolates didn’t make him lose his appetite. His stomach continued to pang. Ache. With a glower, he adjusted his glasses. The chocolates continued existing. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. The cafeteria didn’t shut for another hour, so he had time to grab something edible to eat.

But then he would have to leave the library. And then return. And then resettle. He picked up a round chocolate piece crowned with dark flakes. It would be fine if he only ate one.

Besides, someone might come in and take his book during his absence.

Byakuya popped the chocolate into his mouth. Chewed. Swallowed.

Someone could sneak in and spike his coffee when he was out of the room. And he didn’t want to brew a whole new cup.

Chewed. Swallowed.

Coffee actually paired well with the chocolates. He selected another. Dark, with green shavings. Matcha.

Someone might hear his stomach rumble on the way to the cafeteria.

Chewed. Swallowed. Another.

He might get a cramp in his leg while walking.

With one hand, he held his book, while his other pecked away at the box of chocolates. No two chocolates were the same. Each presented a unique texture, a different taste. Byakuya reached for another chocolate only for his fingers to rustle empty paper cases.

He looked. He had eaten them all.

He had eaten all of the chocolates given to him by Touko Fukawa.

He stared in horror.

***

The next morning, even after he brushed his teeth for ten minutes straight, a sickly film continued to cling to the inside of his mouth. In front of his bathroom mirror, he tried rinsing the taste away with water, then mouthwash, then water again, but the chocolate seemed to have sunk in past his gums, wedged between his teeth and burrowed into the back of his throat.

Coffee didn’t drown the tang either.

Still, he had an entire day to dedicate to dealing with this quandary. A ‘teacher training’ day had been instated, meaning all students had no lessons scheduled until tomorrow. Despite its name, it was actually a ‘recover from the previous day’ day. Many teachers had gone out to a karaoke bar and woke up hungover. One rumour going around claimed Koichi Kizakura spent the night in the same bed as the headmaster.

In any case, the lack of lessons meant Byakuya wouldn’t be forced into close proximity with Touko. He needed to sort out this whole chocolate dilemma before she showed up and made things too bothersome. To achieve this, as pained as he was to admit it, he needed the aid of a certain someone.

Fortunately, this certain someone could often be found in the last places Touko would think to search for Byakuya in. The swimming pool and art room turned out to be a bust, but Byakuya found his soon-to-be assistant in the recreation room with a few of their classmates.

“Naegi, come with me,” said Byakuya, striding over to the pool table.

Makoto, who had just positioned himself to hit the cue ball, hesitated. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“So am I,” said Byakuya.

Kudos to Makoto, however, because Byakuya hadn’t expected him to be playing pool. He had thought Makoto would be hammering away at a video game or smiling goofily over snakes and ladders. Interesting. Later, Byakuya would have to question him on what different game types he knew. See how competent he was at them.

“Well?” said Byakuya when Makoto didn’t move. “I don’t have all day.”

“Um, actually,” Makoto winced, “I think I would rather...”

“If Naegi-kun’s forfeiting, it looks like I win this game,” interrupted Sayaka, a smile pushing out her cheeks. She tilted her head to one side and fluttered her hands together in a dainty round of applause. “Yay, me! Don’t worry, Naegi-kun. We’ll have a rematch when you get back. But don’t think I’ll go easy on you to make you feel better about losing. I’m going to go all out.”

Sayaka puffed out her cheeks. While it made Makoto grin and slightly redden, it made Byakuya’s insides wither. As a Super High School Level Idol, he supposed she had to embody some kind of charm, even if it only worked on people like Makoto. And Leon, who was standing by the pool table too.

“Wow, whatever it is, it sounds important,” said Leon. “You better be a good friend and go with him. I’ll take care of Maizono-chan while you’re gone.”

Leon saluted at Makoto and winked. He had a black eye. Presumably, his plan to spy on the girls’ party hadn’t gone the way he hoped.

“Thanks, but there’s no need to trouble yourself, Kuwata-kun,” said Sayaka as Makoto passed her the cue stick.

“I’m serious. It’s no sweat off my back,” said Leon.

Sayaka’s grin flattened against her face, more polite than genuine. “I mean I don’t think anything bad will happen. We’re all friends here. But I have the cue stick to protect me anyway.”

She demonstrated by thrusting it toward Leon. The tip stopped just before his injured eye, making him jump back with a yelp. A giggle rose out of her, to which Leon joined in with a couple of shaky laughs.

“Are you finished with your triple act now?” asked Byakuya, unamused.

“Yes, sorry,” said Makoto, cringing. “Let’s go.”

As they stepped out into the corridor, a few students breezed past, talking loudly to each other with erratic hand movements. Byakuya watched their backs as they walked away, his arms folded over his chest.

“What is it that you want with me?” asked Makoto.

“Not here,” said Byakuya. None of the students nearby seemed to be paying the pair any attention, but he couldn’t lower his guard. “Wait until we’re alone.”

Neither spoke while Byakuya led Makoto away. With no lessons taking place, finding an empty classroom proved straightforward. Once inside, Byakuya turned to Makoto.

“I need you to talk to Fukawa.”

Makoto frowned. “Why?”

“I need you to find out how much money she spent on the chocolates she gave me yesterday.”

That was simple enough to understand. Yet Makoto said, “You want me to do what, Togami-kun?”

He stared at Byakuya with a stupid look on his face, squinting with raised eyebrows.

“I don’t see what you’re struggling to understand. I wish to know how much money she spent on her chocolates so I can appropriately compensate her.” Byakuya started pacing back and forth. “If I were to buy her something two or three times more expensive, that would be seen as reciprocating her honmei choco. I could just give her nothing... no. Out of the question. Any less than what she gave me would reflect badly on me and the conglomerate.”

“I understand what you said,” Makoto told Byakuya. “Well, maybe not your reasoning, but what you want me to do. But why do I have to ask Fukawa-san where she bought that chocolate from? You’ve never struggled to speak your mind with her before.”

Byakuya came to a stop and brought a hand to the top corner of his glasses. A frown pinched his features.

“You never cease to sink to new levels below my expectations, and they are already incredibly low as it is. If I spoke to her, asking about the chocolates, she would become suspicious of my questioning and figure out I ate them. She’s daft, but she’s not a complete idiot. If you ask her about them, she will not suspect me.”

The situation was not unlike a game of pool. He couldn’t pot the eight-ball too early, much like he couldn’t outright go to Touko and question her about the chocolates. When he next saw her, everything had to be perfectly in place. There was an order that had to be followed.

Makoto glanced away, as if searching for a way out of the conversation, but no one jumped out from under a desk and carried him out of the room. Nor did the door slam open and a teacher march inside. The trees beyond the classroom’s window wall didn’t shed their leaves to reveal assassins hiding in them, guns aimed so they would have to flee the room, ending the conversation. A meteor didn’t smash into the classroom either. Silence hung between them, until Makoto sighed and met Byakuya’s gaze.

“Alright, Togami-kun. I’ll ask her for you.”

“You will invite her to the library and while you question her, I will be listening in nearby,” said Byakuya. “The library has plenty of bookcases for me to hide behind. Once you have extracted the information, I will slip away and prepare the compensation.”

It was a great plan, yet Makoto shook his head slightly. “I really don’t understand how your mind works, Togami-kun, but okay.”

“You don’t need to understand. I know what I’m doing. And I will tell you exactly what to say to her. You have half an hour to memorise this script I wrote.”

Byakuya reached under his jacket and pulled out a stack of paper.

Makoto had the audacity to continue frowning.

***

The irony of Byakuya observing Touko from a behind a bookcase did not go over his head. Many times, Byakuya’s and Touko’s positions had been reversed. However, he always knew she was there. Her smell of wet book never failed to find its way over to him. His ears would twinge at the sounds of her breathing. The back of his neck would prickle. A strange feeling would stir in him. Disgust. It could be nothing else. It would be preposterous to even suggest it was anything else. As if he would want her drooling, red-faced, snivelling person near him.

She was none-the-wiser to his presence on this occasion. Engrossed in a book. With more stacked up on either side of her. From his angle, he couldn’t see any of the titles, but they were all pretty thick.

“Hi, Fukawa-san,” said Makoto, walking up to her table.

On the script Byakuya had written for Makoto, he had put ‘hello’ instead of hi, but he supposed it was fine for Makoto to adapt the language slightly. After all, Byakuya and Makoto were worlds apart. Byakuya was still learning about how commoners functioned. How they walked. How they spoke. How they thought.

Touko looked up.

“What do you want?” she asked coldly.

“I, um, wanted to see how you were doing.” Makoto pulled out a chair and sat down opposite her. “Did you enjoy Valentine’s Day yesterday?”

She set her book down. “You think you’re real smart, don’t you? I can see right through your charade.”

“Y-You can?” said Makoto, his head jerking back. Byakuya narrowed his eyes but otherwise didn’t move.

“You think you know what my answer will be, and it’s one that amuses you. You want me to indulge your humiliation kink by asking me that question,” she sneered.

Perfect. Byakuya smirked. He had anticipated that sort of response.

Makoto waved his hands and spluttered convincingly, “N-No! That’s not it at all. I came here because I wanted to check out the comic section and happened to see you as I was passing by.”

The script had actually called for ‘wanted to read generic lowbrow manga that commoners like me enjoy’.

She didn’t answer right away. “Sure.”

Though Byakuya couldn’t see her face, she didn’t sound convinced. Makoto shifted in his seat and looked down, twiddling his thumbs. Perhaps Makoto hadn’t been the best choice. The guy was a terrible liar.

“... If you must know,” said Touko after an uncomfortable silence, “I got some writing done and gave Byakuya-sama chocolate.”

Touko spoke in a low voice and didn’t shriek or laugh when she said Byakuya’s name like she usually did. Nor did she pant or hug herself. Byakuya frowned. He had not planned for that reaction. She sounded dejected.

“It’s awesome that you gave Togami-kun some chocolate,” said Makoto. “Did he like it?”

This was her cue to start bragging about how of course he would love her chocolate. She wouldn’t buy him cheap chocolate. Only the finest was acceptable for ‘Byakuya-sama’. Yes, Touko would jump to her feet and spit would fly from her mouth as she passionately rambled about Byakuya and the exact cost of the confectionery.

“I haven’t seen him today, so I don’t know,” she said flatly.

“What chocolates did you get him? I bet you got them somewhere fancy.”

Touko’s shoulders hiked.

“I see what’s happening. Listen.” There was a hard edge to her voice now. “When we first met and you hung out with me a few times, I’ll admit. I thought I may have had feelings for you. But after a while, I realised that I was just happy that a guy had been kind to me and given me attention. It has happened before, with others. Someone would show a bit of interest in me, and I would start fantasising about dating them and getting married and having lots and lots of babies with them.”

Makoto stared silently, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open. Byakuya probably had a similar expression. Minus the open mouth.

“My only friend in elementary school. A boy from a neighbouring class in eighth grade. A literature teacher. A girl in my class at Riverbank. Any crushes I had were quite shallow. None compare to Byakuya-sama.”

As she straightened her back, Byakuya wondered what expression she had on. She was usually extremely expressive, but she had already defied his expectations with her responses to Makoto’s probing. She might have been hiding her emotions behind a blank mask. But it was impossible to hide one’s feelings in their eyes. Her grey pair could have been full of flame and smoke. They could have been biting cold. He couldn’t be certain anymore. Until now, he had thought he had her all sussed out.

Curious. Very curious.

“Byakuya-sama is different. Since we first met, he hasn’t shown me an act of kindness to latch on to.” Touko was trembling now. “He understands how dark and cruel the world can be. He doesn’t put on a mask or trust the masks of others. He didn’t try to deceive me with a good first impression. I’ve never felt the way I do toward him with anyone else, and that includes you. You may be a safe option, but you are not one that I truly want or who will make me feel fulfilled. S-So... I’m declining your offer to be your girlfriend.”

Okay, now Byakuya’s mouth might have fallen open. Makoto licked his lips.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I don’t want to be your girlfriend, Fukawa-san.” He threw up his hands, facing his palms toward her. “No disrespect! You’re not that bad of a person once people get to know you. I just... wondered... ha ha...”

There was taking artistic liberty, and then there was this. Byakuya couldn’t see her face, but her expression made Makoto recoil. Her body shook harder, then she let out an ear-splitting howl that caused several people nearby to jump and spin around to watch. Behind the bookcase, Byakuya gritted his teeth and winced.

Touko’s chair toppled backward as she leaped to her feet. “S-So you did want me to say all that for your humiliation kink! Argh!”

“No! I...!”

She jabbed at the air. “Get out!”

When he didn’t move, she seized a book from the top of one of her stacks and aimed it at him. Makoto yelped and made a hasty retreat before she decided to throw it. After a couple of seconds, she returned the book to its spot. Several minutes crawled past before everyone else had returned to what they had been doing before, browsing bookshelves or murmuring in small groups.

Byakuya hadn’t obtained the information he desired, but staying would only serve to increase the chances of him getting caught. He began edging away, barely breathing.

“He’s gone now, Byakuya-sama,” said Touko calmly. Her voice stopped him in his tracks like a tightened leash.

He froze, then adjusted his glasses, keeping his back to her.

“Fukawa? I didn’t realise you were here,” he said as if she hadn’t screamed a couple of minutes ago.

“There’s no need to play coy, Byakuya-sama.” He could hear the smirk in her voice. She seemed back to her normal self, unfortunately. “I knew you were here the whole time.”

“You did?”

“I can smell you...”

Byakuya stiffened and turned to face her with a glare.

“Are you saying I stink?” he asked. Rich, coming from her.

“Only of pheromones.”

Sometimes she could say profound things. Other times, like now, she spoke like an idiot. However, to give her some credit, an idiot who always had a witty response prepared.

His scowl deepened. “You’re talking nonsense. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will continue passing through and...”

He pivoted on his heel and took three steps before she said, “How were the chocolates?”

His foot stuck to the floor like glue.

“What chocolates?” he said casually.

“The ones I gave you yesterday.”

“Oh, those.” Byakuya licked his teeth. He had to choose his next words carefully. Thanks to Makoto, he had been left in a bad position in the endgame. He had to play defensively, and make sure he didn’t set her up for a clear final shot.

“I hope they were to your liking. I-It was my first time making chocolate, so I...”

“Wait. What?” His eyebrows rose. “You made them?”

Touko squeaked. Byakuya’s brow scrunched as he turned back toward her. A shudder ran down his spine.

“You made them? What on Earth for?” he snapped. “Did you think I would want to put my mouth anywhere near where your dirty fingers have been?”

Her face clouded over for a moment, probably as some ghastly mental image entered her brain, but she quickly recomposed herself. “I did buy some, originally. Really expensive chocolate. Except the morning before Valentine’s Day, it was all gone. That cursed alter of... um, I mean, that alternate cleaner standing in for the usual one m-must have snuck in and eaten it!”

That sounded very unprofessional. The skin around her eyes bunched up in distress.

“I tore through every shop in the city but it being the day before Valentine’s Day, I couldn’t find a single block of chocolate worthy of titillating your taste buds.”

Being a renowned author, she had to have made a very conscious choice on the words she used. She wrung her hands together.

“S-So... I went to the kitchens and made the chocolate I gave you. That pervert,” Teruteru Hanamura, “aided me. I don’t trust him at all, but Oogami and Asahina happened to be there too making chocolates so they ensured he didn’t attempt anything strange.”

Byakuya wondered how many people Touko had roped into this sick affair. But that explained why he couldn’t find them in his search through different retailers.

“Even though you weren’t going to eat them, they still needed to be perfect,” she carried on.

His brow quirked almost hard enough to split his face. He couldn’t keep the incredibility out of his voice. “You expected me not to eat them?”

She nodded. “Yes. That is correct. You’ve mentioned before that you have your own personal waste disposal crew for valentines.”

“So why go through all that effort if you knew I would toss them away?”

“Because I wanted you to see the effort I was willing to put in, e-even if you wouldn’t eat them. Even if you’re not ready to reciprocate my love... b-because I’ll wait for you.”

Byakuya swallowed. His mouth was very dry. And very very sickly. The chocolate poisoning his mouth must have soured. Or was this the taste of defeat?

She had put him in a bad place. Well, she thought she had. A small smile warmed his lips as he realised she had actually set things up perfectly for him.

“Well, you were mistaken,” he announced. “Because I did eat them.”

Touko slapped a hand to her chest. “Huh?”

“Yes. I ate your honmei choco, Touko Fukawa!” He pointed at her, his grin cutting into his cheeks. “Come along! It’s your turn with the pool cue. What move will you make?”

“Pool cue...?” She blinked.

Byakuya couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome. Now was the time for her to give up on him. To spurn him. To hate him. To think he was like all the others who had drawn her attention. Then she would leave him alone, and she would no longer be blighting his vision or his thoughts. She would be gone.

Instead, she smiled. “Heh... heh heh...”

“... huh?”

“It looks like... in this dark reality... love truly does prevail over all.”

Their conversation had drawn a small audience, but he paid them little attention. Touko wrapped her arms around herself, grinning widely. Byakuya’s face burned. He shifted a foot back, unable to take his eyes off her. She had outplayed him. Gross. She was gross. Disgusting. Repulsive.

“You’re vile,” he said, but that didn’t faze her. Still, if she was daydreaming, she might not notice him leaving. He marched quickly out of the library, not looking back once.

He really didn’t understand her at all.

That was why he spent the rest of the day thinking about her. Her annoying twin braids. Her beady grey eyes. Her stupid smile. Her wet book smell. Her perseverance. Her stupid smile.

Yes.

That was why.

#togafuka #togafukaweek #touko fukawa #byakuya togami #danganronpa #makoto naegi #toko fukawa #one shot #fanfiction

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