Chapter Text
The best of soft rock hits is interrupted by a jarring commercial for a series of rehabilitation centers. Naegi jumps and instinctively gropes for the volume on his too expensive cell phone with not quite as expensive technology, effectively quieting the mock soothing voice of a woman offering Help and a Safe Place even you can find relief in. We’re here to help.
Up ahead, there’s a man in neon yellow shorts gulping at the air like a sea bass. He’s standing right where Naegi wants to go — it’s the only spot on the stairs where his peers aren’t coming in a constant stream. Ricocheting red blood cells against corroded arteries. Naegi stands at the foot of those stairs seeking a hole in the crowd while an attorney mumbles in his ears about malpractice.
It’s like this everyday. At the peak of the morning, right before the coveted Lunch Break, the university’s covered in students ranging in age from young adult to might experience heart failure at any given moment. Some students scream across the campus and others hunch over to hide their heads, but Naegi just walks. He just walks from one place to the other with his backpack over his shoulder and his headphones in his ears like little white pills that disconnect him from reality, if only for a moment.
The music starts again and Naegi lets out a sigh of relief.
There’s a hole, take it! Up the stairs to the right. More crowds gathered in the hallways. Bump. A hurried apology and a self-conscious chuckle. Naegi is always clumsy but it’s part of the dance. The string of fate pulls and tugs him right where he’s supposed to go.
This is how he meets Byakuya Togami.
Byakuya Togami is the sort of asshole authors write about. He could be a rival in a cliche romance novel in which the protagonist has to overcome all of the obstacles the wealthy, arrogant and handsome son of a tycoon presents, except everyone knows that Togami has no interest in romance. He scoffs at the idea. Girls claim to be in love with him and he looks them dead in the eye and drones, “You’re an imbecile. What you’re experiencing is infatuation. A combination of chemicals, such as dopamine and adrenaline, are pouring into your senses and stunting all logical thought, should you have had any in the first place.”
Naegi is well aware of him already. Togami is in a couple of his classes but they’ve never spoken because Naegi’s never thought to try and Togami’s never had need. Really, they’ve never exchanged so much as a glance. Naegi knows Togami has enough money to buy this university and everyone in it if he chose to, which is a little daunting, but…
Boy, even Togami’s hair is gold.
Although Naegi is clumsy, he doesn’t misstep his way into Byakuya Togami. No, it’s quite the opposite.
Togami missteps into Naegi.
There’s a light thud against Naegi’s back. He whirls around to habitually apologize — his fault or not — but his ten ton backpack swings and connects with Togami’s solar plexus. Togami, grunting on impact, adjusts his designer glasses and glares from behind them in his half bow.
Naegi is petrified.
“I’msosorry!" he blurts. His hands are up and he’s reaching for Togami as if that could possibly help in anyway. He recoils when Togami’s jaw sets. Oh man.
"I’m sorry," he says again before swallowing a lump in his throat. "I wasn’t paying attention."
“Obviously,” Togami hisses as he straightens.
"Can I make it up to you?"
Byakuya Togami is the kind of asshole girls fall fictionally in love with, even though they would likely hate him in reality. He’s selfish and mean with the social prowess of a spoiled five-year-old. In his free time, he’s a hermit surrounded by books and research because he’s far too intelligent and thinks he’s better than everyone else. Hell, there’s a rumor that he even played the stock market for a day and racked in more cash that he doesn’t really need.
Byakuya Togami is an asshole, so it shouldn’t be a surprise when he snaps a quickly fired no and storms off. It shouldn’t be a surprise, but Naegi is still standing there in the middle of the hallway rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.
He resolves to put the whole experience behind him with a heaved breath, turning up the volume on his musical escape.
If only it were that easy.