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Makoto Naegi arrived at Leon Kuwata’s party just before eight o’clock, as instructed on the invitation he found in his desk earlier that week. Even without receiving the invitation, not knowing about the party would have been a feat- Leon enthused about it to their entire class at any given opportunity. Before lessons. During lessons. Detention. Mealtimes. A friend of a friend lent Leon a local house for the night due to some favour they owed him. Drinks, games, dancing, drinks. It’d be the best party ever, Leon said. Multiple times. A way to relax after their last exams.
Makoto arrived at Leon’s party just before eight o’clock, as the invitation instructed. Therefore he arrived early.
The door opened after Makoto knocked for three minutes, fist rapping against the door while he checked the planner on his phone in case he misread the location or date or time. But he heard music inside- not distinct enough for him to distinguish any words, but it seemed a party was taking place.
Light from the hallway seeped into the night and Leon peered down. The music- a song by an English punk group from the seventies Leon regularly blasted in the cafeteria- had presumably drowned out the tirade of knocking on the door. He must have had his phone on vibrate and came to investigate when he felt Makoto text him.
“Dude, you’re waaaaay too early.” Leon slouched against the doorframe, one hand balled around a half-empty bottle that made the bottom of the glass opaque with a sludge colour. He scuffed the ball of his foot on the doormat.
“Ah, I thought it started at eight.” Maybe Makoto made a typo when he inputted the information into his phone’s planner.
“Nah, man. Everyone knows you’re supposed to come at least half an hour late.” Leon gestured for Makoto to enter, sloshing the contents of his bottle by doing so, and stepped into the building. He didn’t check over his shoulder to see if Makoto was following him and disappeared back into the house. “Eh, you’re not the only one here. Kick off your shoes and head on into the main room.”
The living room already carried an odour of alcohol and the lights had been dimmed- Makoto stumbled over a bump in the too-big carpet and careened into the back of the couch.
“Whoa, Naegi-chi, don’t tell me you’re already drunk!” Yasuhiro Hagakure lounged on the couch with Aoi Asahina and Sakura Oogami, his remark smothered by The Clash’s White Riot and the near-empty bottle in his possession.
Makoto steadied himself and tightened his grip on the couch. When he lifted his gaze, he met Sayaka Maizono’s eye and she grinned. He grinned back. She sat on an armchair she had presumably dragged closer to the couch and she sat primly with her legs together, hands on her lap.
Two others arrived to the party prior to Makoto. In a corner, to Makoto’s surprise, was Byakuya Togami. Although Leon invited everyone in their class, Makoto had expected Byakuya to abstain from attending. Upon receiving an invitation, Byakuya scrunched it into his pocket without reading past the first line. But there he was, on an armchair away everyone else, nursing a drink in favour of conversing with others. Barely visible but undeniably there.
And the final student, who stood next to Sakura, was Kiyotaka Ishimaru. Another student Makoto hadn’t thought a party-goer.
Leon perched onto the armrest of Sayaka’s seat and nodded at Makoto. “Not a bad turn out so far, yeah?”
Kiyotaka pulled back his sleeve to uncover his wrist watch. His eyebrows furrowed to the point where Makoto worried they would implode if he applied any more pressure to them. “Half our class are ten minutes late. This is unacceptable! Your invitation clearly directed that we come here at eight on the dot.”
“Dude, for the last time, you’re meant to go to parties fashionably late.” Leon wiped his hand up his face and fondled the dyed red spikes on his hairline. “Geez, you can tell everyone here ain’t been to a house party before.”
Yasuhiro coughed into his knuckles.
“Fine. Nearly everyone,” Leon amended, rolling his eyes.
“Hey, I’m the one who hooked you up with all this moonshine. It’s a special blend from an acquaintance of mine guaranteed to improve any party, ‘right?” Yasuhiro leaned over to the side and grabbed an unopened bottle from an end table. He proffered Makoto the drink. “Want some, Naegi-chi?”
Makoto waved his hands. “I don’t drink.”
“Naegi.” Leon rose and draped an arm over Makoto’s shoulders. He squeezed Makoto against him more intimately than a completely sober Leon would. “Dude. I’m going to get everyone absolutely hammered. Have a bet going on with Hagakure and everything- whoever gets the most people drunk wins.”
Kiyotaka jabbed the air with his index finger, nostrils flared. “You’re to do no such thing! We are celebrating to reward our perseverance during the exam period- we are not using it as an excuse to be irresponsible. As students of Hope’s Peak, we represent the school off hours and mustn’t tarnish its name!”
Leon scoffed, “You’re not the boss here. Anything’s free game s’long as it’s legal.”
“Most of us are not of age to drink!”
“So don’t drink. Call the police.” Leon threw up his hands. “Loosen up for once and take whatever’s plugging your asshole out. Or, I don’t know, be a normal teen for once in your life.”
“Midnight to six man for the first time from Jamaica.” Another song by The Clash.
Kiyotaka’s cheeks flushed but he didn’t act on Leon’s second suggestion, folding his arms over his chest and tapping his finger to the song’s bassline.
A car rumbled past the house.
Aoi snatched the bottle from Yasuhiro. “It’s okay, Ishimaru. Sakura-chan’s not drinking either. She’s taking the train to see Kenichiro tomorrow morning.”
Sakura bowed her head. “Indeed. I cannot afford to be late.”
“Is this thing glued on or what?” Aoi wiggled, jabbing her shoulder blades into Sakura. She bit down on her tongue as she ineffectually twisted her fist around the bottle.
Leon whipped out a bottle opener from his jacket’s breast pocket and pried the bottle from Aoi’s grip. He gave it back to her once he opened it. “No biggie. The Ogre’s off-limits then.” His thigh buzzed and he took out his phone. “Looks like Yamada’s at the door. S’cuse me, ladies. Naegi. Hagakure.” He craned his neck and smirked. “Togami.”
Byakuya gifted them a glare before taking a swig and turning away from them.
“He’s been sitting there for the last half hour doing nothing but drink,” Aoi said, resting her head on Sakura’s lap. Her toes twiddled Yasuhiro’s trouser leg. “I don’t get why’d you go to a party if you don’t want to hang out with anyone.”
“Maybe he’s shy?” Sayaka suggested.
“Shy? Him?” Aoi snorted. “He just thinks he’s too good for us.” She sipped her drink and sat up with a jolt, waggling her tongue. “Bleck! What’s in this?”
Yasuhiro reclined, head lolling against the back cushion of his seat. “Nothing weird. It always tastes off the first time, ‘right? Togami-chi almost spat out his first gulp. I don’t think he’s ever drank this kind of stuff before.”
Leon returned with Hifumi Yamada and Celestia Ludenberg.
Celes wrinkled her nose as she inspected her surroundings. No doubt it wasn’t to her taste- everyone would snugly fit inside, the decor was modest and the present company little better. She stared at Yasuhiro until Aoi kicked him and he stood up, after which Celes sat in his space.
Aoi held out her bottle and shook it. “Celes-chan, do you want a drink?”
“No, thank you. I drank tea earlier.” Celes gave a close-mouthed smile. “I would prefer to watch everyone else make a fool of themselves.”
Yasuhiro downed a good portion of his drink and burped, laying his forearm over the top of the couch.
Celes looked at Hifumi and clapped twice.
He fanned her face with his hand.
“Does that mean you’re not going to join in the fun?” Leon’s eyes glinted. “Yeah, you’ll want to stay well away from the drinking games if you can’t stomach much alcohol.”
Celes’s fingers curled into her palms, her smile maintained but now forced. “I said nothing about objecting to any of your games, for you see, I won’t lose a single one. I will drink very little at most.” She slumped forward. “It’s disappointing. Troubling, in fact. I will be the only person sober by the end. There won’t be anyone else for me to laugh about this with.”
Leon’s phone buzzed again. “That’s Oowada.” He slipped out of the room.
Sayaka picked up a full bottle from the table beside her and poured a bit into a plastic cup. “I wonder what games Kuwata-kun has planned for us.”
“Do not fear, fair maiden, for I brought several volumes of different manga,” Hifumi said, bouncing on his toes. His satchel clomped against his stomach. “If need be, we can participate in drinking games involving them. Take a drink for every panty shot!”
“We’d all be out for the count after five minutes,” Yasuhiro piped up. He plonked himself onto the armrest beside Celes.
She angled her body away from him.
Mondo Oowada, Chihiro Fujisaki and Kyouko Kirigiri came in with Leon. Chihiro accompanied Mondo to a dining table stationed beneath the room’s only window. Judging by the indents in the carpet, whoever moved the table had heaved it to the window rather than carry it.
Bottles of drink occupied most of the table and Mondo took one.
Leon bobbed his head as he mouthed consecutive numbers. “We’re just missing the twins, yeah?”
“And Fukawa-san,” said Makoto though he suspected she might give the party a miss.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Her.” Leon flopped onto the armrest of Sayaka’s chair and swung one leg back and forth. “Anyone up for a game of California Kings? I’ve got a pack of cards.”
“Sure,” Mondo said.
Yasuhiro yawned as he nodded.
A pause.
“Just you guys?” Leon sighed dramatically. “Lame. Maizono-chan, how about you play? It’s real easy- we all take turns drawing a card and depending on the suit and number, you do something like take a swig or rhyme or whatever. Totally fun.”
Sayaka tilted her head to one side, finger on her bottom lip as she considered. “I don’t want to drink too much. My manager wouldn’t be happy if I intoxicated myself and damaged my health or did something stupid.”
“Come, Maizono-san, we’re all friends here.” Celes laced her fingers together and rested her chin onto them. “I’ll play.”
“Then I accept the challenge as well.” Hifumi thrust out his chest. He adjusted his glasses and struck what Makoto could only assume was supposed to be a heroic pose.
“Kirigiri-san, do you wish to join us?” Celes asked.
Kyouko shook her head.
Celes pouted. “What a shame. I was looking forward to observing your skills in such a game. Perhaps next time.”
“I want to play.” Aoi flung up her arm as if volunteering an answer in class. “Only I don’t know the rules. I can still play though, right?”
“I’ll fill everyone in,” Leon promised. He hauled the end table that was beside Celes over to the space between the couch and Sayaka. “Anyone not playing stand back so those cool enough to play can get around the table.”
Sayaka vacated the armchair. Mondo lugged it nearer to the end table and sat down.
Aoi sat up and shifted closer to Sakura so Yasuhiro could sit with them.
Leon knelt by the table, shuffling a deck of cards he procured from the bulge in his trouser pocket. “I’ll explain the rules as we go along, all right?”
Makoto watched the game from behind the couch.
He had a bad feeling about this.
Twenty minutes later and Makoto still had a bad feeling about this. As the game progressed, the number of spectators decreased until only he and Sakura were watching. And Kiyotaka, having appointed himself referee. All the participants by now had drank since the beginning as a few of the numbers and suits called for everyone to drink or for the person who drew the card to drink.
That didn’t mean they all drank an equal amount. Celes, true to her word, drank little so far while the rest didn’t share in her luck.
The cards lay face down on the end table in a circle around a large half-empty cup. Mondo flipped over a nine of hearts. “That’s rhyme, isn’t it?”
“Sure,” Leon told the bottle in his hand. “Shit. I was meant to rhyme with what you said. But shit rhymes with it, yeah? Does that count? It counts.”
“A little bit,” Celes said. She turned to Yasuhiro.
Yasuhiro straightened up. “This is the only sentence I can think of that fits.”
“Fits doesn’t rhyme,” Leon told him. “It has a siss at the end. Take a drink.”
“He is correct,” Kiyotaka said. “If you had used the singular verb, your answer would be satisfactory. You would have known that if you paid more attention in class.”
Yasuhiro sipped his drink. Then he sipped again and returned his bottle to between his legs.
Leon flipped over another card. “Eight.” He slammed his thumb down. The table shook, causing the contents of the large cup to ripple.
Celes touched her thumb onto the table, the sound of this action unheard over Mondo’s thumb colliding with wood.
Hifumi pressed down his thumb next.
Yasuhiro was penultimate.
Sakura nudged Aoi.
“Whoops!” Aoi, who had since lain back down with her feet on Yasuhiro’s thighs, sat up and swiped her thumb against the table, other hand lifting her bottle to her mouth. “I keep forgetting eight.” She rested her head onto Sakura’s lap again.
The novelty of the game receded over the line separating Makoto’s desire to watch and his desire to find something to do, so he went over to the trio of students beside the stereo system. Sayaka and Kyouko held a plastic cup each while Chihiro wrung their fingers and glanced at the window.
“Naegi-kun!” Sayaka cupped a hand around her mouth. “Do you want to dance?”
“Dance?” He flicked at his nose. “I’m a lousy dancer.”
“It’s easy, Naegi-kun.” She put her cup onto the fireplace’s mantel shelf and grabbed his wrists. “Just throw your arms around and let the music lead you.”
Sayaka demonstrated a little too eagerly and pain shot up his arms. She sashayed back, freeing her hold of him. She shut her eyes as she stepped out with her right foot, snapping it back to its original position before doing the same with her left. This style differed from how she danced on stage. On television, and at her live performances, her dances were choreographed so she and her fellow idols flowed from one move to another. Here, her shoulders rolled as her arms swayed, her hips jerking to the beat with carefree imperfect rawness.
“Come on!” Sayaka bumped her hip into Kyouko's. Kyouko stumbled. “I'm the only one dancing. Do whatever your body tells you to do.”
Makoto wondered whether the same self-consciousness he felt had ever affected Sayaka. Clueless on how one was meant to dance at a house party, he sneaked glances at her. Her body twitched but with a naturalness he lacked, his limbs moving robotically and belatedly to the beat. Sayaka seemed unaware of the surveillance from not only him but Chihiro and Kyouko, absorbed in Don't Stop Me Now by Queen.
The ease on Sayaka's face must have played a part. She smiled and swished her hair while Chihiro stamped their feet, fists rooted to their sides, and Kyouko copied Sayaka with little more success than Makoto. Both Chihiro and Kyouko sported looks of concentration Makoto was sure he wore as well.
When the song ended and another started, Sayaka wiped sweat and hair from her forehead with the back of her hand. She reclaimed her drink and sipped it, the cup crumpling under her grip. “Did you guys have fun?”
Chihiro opened their satchel and drank water from a plastic bottle. Makoto should have brought one too. “Y-Yes!” It came out as a squeak and Chihiro clasped their heaving chest. “But... I think I'll give the next few songs a miss. All that dancing wore me out.”
Kyouko nodded, face flushed. “Yes. You have a lot of stamina, Maizono-san, and watching you was breathtaking in more ways than one.”
Smooth.
Sayaka's cheeks coloured more. “Thank you. Your dancing was great- you looked so focused and pretty!”
Not as smooth and more to the point but Kyouko grinned at the carpet, voicing no complaints when Sayaka took her hands and roped her into the next song.
Makoto left them to grab a drink, pushing hair out of his eyes along the way. His fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle but didn’t clutch, his mind recalling a memory of something his father mentioned during a casual conversation. Alcohol made one feel thirstier, so he nabbed a clean plastic cup from the stack on the table and headed into the kitchen to fill it with water.
There, he found Byakuya leaning against the sink inset into a worktop.
On hearing the door creak open, Byakuya turned his head. “Oh... It’s you.”
Makoto couldn’t tell whether alcohol caused Byakuya to drawl or whether it was his usual condescension. Or both. He placed his cup onto a nearby counter. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
Byakuya grunted and lifted the bottle in his hand to eye level. “I came because I’ve never been to a lower class party like this. I don’t understand parties’ deals.”
“Well... they’re fun and you get to hang out with friends, play games, dance...”
“None of you are my friends.” Byakuya threw back his head and drank. He set the empty bottle onto the counter with a bang. “You’re all loud and boring and I have to put up with all you loud and boring people in class already.”
Still couldn’t tell whether this was the alcohol talking or his usual condescension. Or both. Probably both.
The following silence was a big hint that their exchange ended but another came in the form of yelling from the living room.
Junko Enoshima. Makoto heard her traipse across the room and then the music cut off.
“Hello, heaveno and purgatoryo!” came her voice, slanted with a lilt. “Here I am with two little ducklings. Mukuro-o and... bah bah bah, Fukawa-o! Fukawa-san was hiding in the library but I got her out. I said I was going to get everyone to come and I dragged her all the way here.”
Touko Fukawa grizzled in confirmation.
Makoto suspected Junko was the third unspoken reason why Byakuya came so willingly. Even in one’s bedroom, Junko could and would persistently ring doorbells, and the males of her fanclub scoped out areas barred from female students.
The music returned on a high note by Freddie Mercury.
Byakuya scowled. “Naegi, get me another drink.”
“Huh?”
“Drink. Get me another drink. This one’s empty.” Byakuya tapped the bottle beside him with his fingernail. “Get me another drink and after that I’m going to find somewhere with no people. You’re all too loud and boring and now Fukawa’s here too...” His gaze flickered to the right. “I don’t want to be near her big staring eyes and I don’t want to hear her loud existing or her loud dirty mouth...”
So he already established. Too thirsty to expend energy in refusing, and certain he wouldn’t prevail over Byakuya’s stubbornness, Makoto went into the living room.
It appeared the game of California Kings ended; Yasuhiro, Hifumi and Celes discussed something on the couch while Sakura and Aoi danced. Well, Sakura swayed from side to side, and her self-restraint contrasted with Aoi’s lurches and jumps. Aoi and Sayaka faced each other, mirroring each other’s movements almost faultlessly, and Makoto ducked out of the way of Aoi’s hand.
Mukuro waited beside Junko as Junko got herself a drink. After Junko grabbed Mukuro’s arm and led her into the hallway, Makoto advanced toward the table by the window.
“So there we were: me, an escaped prisoner and a hostage, seated at a table in a fastfood restaurant. The convict had a gun aimed at my face,” Celes mimicked a gun with her fingers, “and I suggested we play a game. The rules were we could only move one finger, and he planned to shoot me after he finished his cigarette.”
“Did you win?” Yasuhiro asked. “Or did he kill you?”
Makoto rolled his eyes and browsed through the bottles. They all looked the same and Byakuya hadn’t requested a specific one. Maybe it wouldn’t matter.
“I chose my thumb and switched on his lighter so I could light his cigarette and the fool let me, thinking this was going to be my final action before dying.” Celes sipped from a plastic cup, soaking in admiration from Hifumi and Yasuhiro. She smiled faintly and looked across the room. Kyouko was watching Mondo attempt to dance. “After I lit his cigarette, I placed the lighter onto his arm. It just so happened he was pouring vodka with said arm at that time and if he was to shoot me, the lighter would fall into the vodka and set him alight.”
“So how did you and the hostage get away, Celes-chi? And what about the convict guy?” Yasuhiro hiccuped. “Did he getted away to?”
Celes giggled behind her hand. “Oh ho, don’t you think that sort of thing is better left to the imagination? Let us say he was fuming over his defeat and leave it at that.”
Even if she was lying, she spoke so casually of straight up murdering someone that Makoto shivered.
Yasuhiro’s mouth fell open.
Hifumi pumped his fist, complexion ruddy. “T-That... was astounding! Celes-dono,” he pointed at her, “indulges in manga too! The chapter you based your tale on was from the first volume- not the more well-known second subdivision but the original. Pray tell, Celes-dono, what other manga do you enjoy?”
She closed her eyes. “Refill my cup, please.”
“Eh?”
Celes flashed him her teeth. “I asked for another drink. I spoke quite clearly. Can you please make haste?”
“But what manga do you read? Usogui? Mudazumo Naki Kaikaku? Have you read any of the spin-offs for Yu-Gi-Oh? I never pictured you a fan of-!”
“I FUCKING TOLD YOU TO MAKE HASTE, PIG BOY!”
Someone switched off the music and several pairs of eyes rounded on them. Even though Makoto hadn’t been on the receiving end of her order, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled and the room seemed to drop in temperature as all the heat in the room transferred to Celes’s glare.
Hifumi snorted. “Y-Yes!” He rolled off the couch, hitting the ground with a thud that made everyone not watching the scene already do so with a jump, and he scrambled toward the table. Makoto dodged out of the way. “O-Of course! This-! This Pig Boy is making all the haste he can! He begs for forgiveness. Oink, oink! Do you want this remorseful piggy to oink louder?”
“No, that’ll do. Thank you.” Celes simpered, face once more an icy mask of pleasantries. “I will consider pardoning your insolence.”
The tablecloth was pulled askew as Hifumi tugged on it to help himself back to his feet. He picked up a bottle and stepped through the short distance separating the table from the couch.
Celes held her cup toward him and Hifumi poured into it until it was three-quarters full. Then he joined Celes on the couch and stayed silent as Yasuhiro piped up, “You think your story is whack, lemme tell you ‘bout the time I woke up with only three socks and a snorkel.”
Makoto decided he wasted enough time listening and was about to leave when he remembered why he was there in the first place. He took a bottle and, quickening his pace, entered the kitchen.
Byakuya seized the bottle from Makoto, reaching his other hand into his pocket for what turned out to be a bottle opener. “You can go now.”
“I’ll see you later then.” Makoto’s cup was where he left it and he filled it halfway with water. After he drank it, he went back into the living room, hearing Byakuya leave the kitchen through a different door.
Not much changed during his brief spell in the kitchen. Junko and Mukuro had come back from the hallway and Junko had an arm caged around Touko’s waist. Opposite them stood Leon and Mondo.
Makoto approached so he could hear what they were arguing about.
“You ain’t supposed to drink it,” Leon said. “That shit’s crazy. You’ll burn your insides and I ain’t telling my mate that someone died here ‘cause of some YOLO stunt.”
“You can, you can, you can!” Junko stuck out her bottom lip. “I saw it on a youtube video and you can! You’re just too weenie to do it yourself.”
Kiyotaka, who had until now been dancing the Charleston in a corner, marched over to give his opinion. “There will be no dying at this party. That’s strictly prohibited and would prove inconvenient. We would have to end the party early, for one thing. And imagine trying to sleep in the same house as a corpse once was- it would have a detrimental effect on sleeping patterns, no doubt!”
He needed to evaluate his priorities.
Sayaka danced over. “Drinking a flaming drink sounds dangerous...”
Chihiro nodded. “Maizono-san’s right. You could get hurt!”
“... But incredible!” Sayaka added. Her eyes sparkled. “It sounds like a trick performed at a circus or on a street corner. I’ve never seen anyone do it.”
Leon’s gaze and judgement wavered. “Hey, Enoshima... you said you saw someone do it? And they didn’t die?”
Mondo slapped himself on the forehead.
“Yep!” Junko grinned. “I even brought everything you’ll need with me because it’ll be hella rad.”
Yasuhiro scratched his head. “Hella rad? Where does hella sit on the scale of radness?”
“One of my buddies say it.” Junko briefly left the room to get a carrier bag from the hallway. She procured from it three bottles and set them onto the table.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Makoto asked. He anticipated one of two answers and neither appealed to him.
“Absolutely.” Junko got out a shot glass and poured a combination of the three bottles into it, using a spoon for the last bottle. Her hand delved into her cardigan for a lighter.
“Don’t let Celes-chi anywhere near it,” Yasuhiro said. “She’ll set you on fire.”
Junko ignored him and ignited the drink. A blue flame with a yellow tip burst out, pulsing as it burned.
Leon gawked. “I’m supposed to just chug it down?”
Mukuro shook her head. “You’ll need this.” She held out a straw.
“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”
If she was, Mukuro’s face did a good job hiding such a fact. “The straw will melt after approximately two seconds. I suggest you hold as little of the straw in your mouth as possible and don’t sip it from above.”
“You’re definitely fucking with me.”
“Feel free to ignore my advice.”
Touko glowered. “I-If you’re too scared to do it, just say. Then we can all find something better to do than watch you blow hot air and make a bigger fool of yourself. Even I’m feeling some secondhand embarrassment...”
That was all the coaxing Leon needed. He tucked the straw between his teeth and penetrated the flame almost horizontally, tilting his head upward as he drank. The surface of the drink plummeted before their eyes and disappeared in little more than the blink of an eye. Smirking, he pinched the flaming end of his straw before raising his arms.
Chihiro, Makoto and Sayaka applauded.
“Huh,” Junko said. “What’d you know. It worked.”
Leon’s party, Makoto supposed, was in full swing by now. And while it was in full swing, he sat on the couch with a sweaty Kyouko and a wide-eyed Chihiro. The three previous tenants of the couch had since vacated, Celes standing with Sayaka and Aoi who were both still dancing. Hifumi stood nearby, face florid as he copied a dance from the ending of an anime that didn’t at all match Stealers Wheel’s Stuck In The Middle With You. As for Yasuhiro, he retreated to the kitchen for snacks.
Kiyotaka sat on an armchair closeby.
“So how are you guys finding the party?” Makoto asked loudly.
Kyouko sipped from a bottle and grimaced. “I don’t have many parties to compare this one to, but the experience is... certainly unique.”
“I must agree with Kirigiri-kun.” Kiyotaka glanced at the dance floor. Junko was swinging her arms, one hand holding Mukuro’s while her second hand held Touko’s wrist. “For one thing, there is no cupcake with a candle. And there have been a disappointing number of party games. I was looking forward to musical statues.”
“That sounds like a children’s birthday party,” Makoto remarked.
Junko stomped over and flung forward her arm. Makoto and Kyouko dodged away from each other as Touko’s face slammed into the bit of couch between them.
“Gloomy is seriously cramping my style and I’m seriously cramping my hand making sure she doesn’t leg it out of here,” Junko said. “So you can babysit her now, all right?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Me and some of the guys are going to play beer pong in the kitchen. You in? Though let me tell you, Mukuro never misses a shot.” She looked over her shoulder. “Ain’t that right, sis?”
Mukuro, clutching Junko’s hand still, flexed her free arm and nodded. Chihiro smiled.
“Thanks for the offer but I’ll pass,” Makoto said. Murmurs of agreement came from the others sitting down. Touko, who had turned around and seated herself properly, glared at her knees and didn’t bother answering.
“Suit yourself.” Junko flicked back her head and marched into the kitchen.
Most of the guests were either spectating or playing beer pong- other than the people immediately surrounding Makoto, only Sakura was in the room. She picked up the armchair in the corner with one arm and carried it effortlessly over to the others, whereupon she set it down and joined them.
Cheers and plopping came from the kitchen.
“So,” Makoto finally said. He hadn’t been left with the most talkative of classmates.
“Does anyone want a drink?” Kyouko asked, sitting closest to the table which had a lot fewer drinks on it than at the start of the party.
“I’ll have another,” Touko muttered. “If you can find it in yourself to make the effort.”
Kyouko reached over and nabbed the closest bottle. After she opened it, she passed it to Touko.
“Heh...” The ends of Touko’s lips curled. “I suppose... you only did it because it was within reach... and you all want me to get drunk and make a fool of myself. I bet one of you has a camera ready... hoping you can take lewd photographs for blackmail...”
Choosing not to drink was a completely viable option but Makoto thought pointing this out would only inspire Touko to take it as an attack. Chihiro reddened and twitched their feet to the music.
“I saw Togami in the back garden,” Sakura suddenly said. “The air in this room is bordering on stifling so Asahina and I stepped out for a while. We deliberated briefly over whether to ask him about his well-being but ultimately decided to leave him alone. He did not appear to be in the mood for company.”
Touko perked up at the mention of Byakuya. “Togami-kun’s here?” She lowered her drink from her lips. “I... haven’t seen him... h-he’s not sick, is he? Someone should check on him!”
Kiyotaka jumped to his feet. “I will fetch him. Togami-kun will catch a cold if he is outside for a prolonged period of time!” He dashed out of the room.
“Because maybe you’re going to be the one that saves me,” sang the stereo.
“I like what you did with your hair, Oogami-san,” Chihiro said.
She had her hair styled in a topknot. “Thank you, Fujisaki. Asahina did it for me prior to the party. Other than simple ponytails, I have little experience in styling my hair for aesthetic purposes though I have perused Enoshima’s magazines several times.”
Kiyotaka returned with Byakuya. Byakuya allowed himself to be sat between Touko and Makoto and flumped onto the couch.
Chihiro, squashed between Kyouko and an armrest, hopped up and sat with Sakura.
“It’s very cold outside.” Kiyotaka rubbed his hands together and brought his shoulders forward. “Be sure to wrap up warmly when the party ends! At the rate Kuwata-kun and Hagakure-kun’s bet is going, you will also have to walk home in groups. Some of you are not fit to be traveling alone after drinking so much. It was a reckless thing to do but I suppose it cannot be helped.”
“Don’t you ever get sick of kidding yourself you hold any authority?” Byakuya asked the ceiling.
Kiyotaka blinked. “Excuse me? You mumbled so I fear I misheard you. Please repeat what-!”
Byakuya’s chin dipped forward. “That’s what I’m... fucking talking about. You go around acting like you’re better than everyone, giving commands when no one gives a shit.” He raised the arm closest to Makoto and pointed vaguely in Kiyotaka’s direction, his other arm falling onto Touko’s shoulders. “It’s... just a fucking illusion... you don’t have power over anyone. What was it Kuwana... Kuwata said earlier? Something about how you should stop lying to yourself and acting like you’re a god or some shit when you’re no different to everyone else. Acting superior doesn’t mean shit when you’re empty inside. Why don’t you drop the act for once in your goddamn life and see what you’re fighting against?”
Leon hadn’t phrased it like that, and Makoto personally thought Byakuya was in no position to reprimand anyone about things like that, but Kiyotaka got to his feet.
“Perhaps... I could afford to mingle, with moderation, with you all for a night.” Kiyotaka nodded and punched the air. “Yes, I will prove to you, Kuwata-kun and everyone else that I know how to have fun. I shall prove I am not constipated!”
And with that, he strode into the kitchen.
Chihiro rose too. “I’m going to keep an eye on him... he seemed very determined. So... goodbye, okay? I’m sorry for leaving you all but I’ll see you soon!”
With Chihiro gone, that left Makoto, Touko, Sakura, Byakuya and Kyouko.
“Togami-kun...” Touko shuffled her feet against the carpet before clamping her knees together. Byakuya had yet to remove the arm he draped over her shoulders. “You’re freezing...!” She smiled at her fidgeting hands. “I could warm you up if you want...”
Byakuya shifted, moving his arm from her shoulders and slipping his hand beneath her armpit. His hand slid down to her waist and pulled her into his side. If anything, he warmed her rather than the other way around, and she blushed and stared directly ahead.
“Hey, Nagato.” Byakuya turned to Makoto. “Get me another drink.”
Makoto peeked at him. Byakuya tightened his grip on Touko. “I think you’ve maybe had enough, Togami-kun.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Byakuya snapped. His expression softened at Touko. “And I’m fine. Hey, Fukuoka... How does yours taste? Good? Bad?”
Touko inspected the bottle. “Good? It’s a bit bitter... but I think I’m getting used to it.”
Byakuya lowered his voice along with his head, eyes on a bit of liquid glistening on her top lip. Makoto knew where this was leading to. “Can I taste it?” His voice caught on the last word.
“Y-Yes! Here, have as much as-”
He batted away the bottle she held to his face, pushing his lips onto hers instead. The bottle fell to the carpet and he twisted around, digging his fingers into her blouse and pulling her onto his lap.
Yes. Makoto was right- it led there.
Kyouko leaped off the couch. Makoto followed shortly after, barely avoiding Byakuya’s elbow. Sakura cleared her throat loudly.
Touko realised what was happening and buried her fingers into his hair while he cupped her cheeks. Makoto thought they did at least- it was hard to discern in the poor lighting and with Byakuya blocking his view of her. What the pair lacked in visibility they made up for with awkward smooching deadened but nevertheless audible over the creaking springs in the couch and the stereo’s music.
So much for Touko’s ‘loud dirty mouth’.
“Ain’t this sweet?” Junko rested her elbow onto Makoto’s shoulder and watched with him. “Two nerds making out...”
Makoto wouldn’t use ‘sweet’.
“It’s fucking disgusting!” Junko kicked the bottom of the couch. “Oi, bastards! Couches are for sitting on, not upping the rating of subpar fanfiction. Take a hike upstairs where we don’t have to see, hear or smell you.” She kicked the couch again when they didn’t immediately comply. “Bastards! Up! Up, up, up! Or I’ll puke all over you.”
That was sufficient incentive. Byakuya rose, half-carrying and half-tugging Touko as he staggered toward the door leading to the hallway. “Fine. Let’s go, Fukaya... We’ll have our own private party together... as we’re not liked here...”
“Togami-kun?” Makoto stepped forward. “I...”
“You’re not invited,” Byakuya said and he and Touko disappeared through the doorway.
Makoto heard them struggle up the stairs.
Kyouko shook her head. “It’s best to leave them alone for now.”
“Yeah,” Junko said. “Anyway, I only came ‘cause we’re finishing off beer pong and we’re going to play truth or dare in here. Lame, I know, but it’s not my party. So are you in, in or in?”
Makoto said, “I’m not-”
“In? Fantastic.” Junko threw up a peace sign. “It’ll be loads of fun, ‘kay? Trust me. You won’t regret it.”
Was it possible to regret something before one actually did said thing?
Before the game started, and while Mondo set down an end table for everyone to sit around, Leon pulled Makoto aside.
“Naegi,” Leon said. “Buddy. Pal. Mate. Amigo.” He winked. “My main man Naegi.”
Makoto hesitated. “Yes?”
“Don’t lose your shit but I threw this party ‘cause I wanted to hit it with the ladies. I couldn’t give two shits about this bet Hagakure thinks we’ve got going.”
Makoto wasn’t surprised. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Leon bared his teeth and prodded Makoto’s chest with his thumb. “See, I want to score... I’ve got my eye on Maizono.”
Sadly, Makoto still wasn’t surprised. “Really?”
“So here’s the plan.” Leon pressed his mouth against Makoto’s ear, breathing onto him a warmth that made Makoto wince. “If Maizono or I say dare, you dare us to go into the walk-in closet upstairs for five minutes.”
“No.”
“I ain’t gonna do nothing weird! I can’t do nothing weird with Oowada and Oogami breathing down my neck. And I can’t be a vocalist without my looks, yeah? If it’s dark and we’re alone, all close like, she’ll think about me and realise how perfect we are.”
Or Sayaka would come to a different realisation. Makoto forced himself to say, “I’ll try.”
Leon slapped him on the back and joined the ring of students in the middle of the room. It seemed Leon and Junko successfully persuaded everyone to participate apart from the two she shooed away.
Junko dropped an empty bottle and it thumped onto the end table everyone was seated around. “Here’s the deal- I spin and whoever it points to has to choose truth or dare. Argh, pointing out the obvious is making me feel all gross.”
She jerked her hand and spun the bottle.
It landed on Celes.
“Ooh, Celes-san. Truth or dare?” Junko asked.
“Truth,” Celes said straightaway. “Although my ability to lie is unrivalled, I will be earnest in my response.”
Assuming that wasn’t a lie.
“Do you have a crush on anybody?” said Junko.
Celes didn’t answer instantly. “A crush? Hm... I suppose I have my eye on someone.”
Hifumi, sat beside Celes, straightened up. “Eh? Someone give me a Persim Berry! Who has raised Celes-dono’s flag?”
“Enoshima-san simply asked whether I have a crush on someone. I’m not obligated to give any names. If you want to know who she is, you will have to ask next time.” Celes twitched. “Hehe, I fear I said too much.”
“Eh?”
Junko spun the bottle.
“Eh?” Hifumi repeated. “Celes-dono, I... I wish to repeat that bit of dialogue! A! A, A, A! ‘She’? Wah?”
“What’s the big deal?” Yasuhiro said with a shrug. “I like girls too. Mostly.” The bottle stopped and he folded his arms over his chest and laughed. “Fate chose Oowada-chi.”
Mondo blew out a sigh. “I s’pose I’ll go with dare.”
Junko squealed and pattered the carpet with her heels. “I dare you to juggle Fujisaki-san.”
“Huh?” Makoto flinched. “That doesn’t sound safe.”
Chihiro’s eyebrows slanted with worry. “I’ll... I’ll do it! I would be spoiling things if I said no, wouldn’t I?”
“You wouldn’t be.” Mondo scratched his neck. “If you don’t want me to juggle you, I get it. S’no big deal.”
“By refusing you are breaking the rules of this game!” Kiyotaka pointed at Mondo. “I insist you juggle Fujisaki-kun and preferably not drop her.”
Preferably.
Mondo groaned and heaved himself into a standing position. “I’m only doing it if it’s cool with Fujisaki. Otherwise I’ll tell the truth or something. So uh... Fujisaki. I’ll try not to drop you. It’s a man’s promise. Or something.”
Try.
Chihiro nodded at the carpet before looking up. “I believe you!” And when said like that, Makoto found himself believing too. Even if Mondo didn’t seem totally confident.
In the end, Mondo didn’t drop Chihiro, and he ended up juggling Aoi afterwards. And then Sakura juggled Aoi so Aoi could judge who did a better job, and Aoi soon fell quiet and cuddled against Sakura.
The next several rounds went by with as much eventfulness as one expected with mostly drunk or at least tipsy participants.
Kiyotaka assured them he always did his homework, though he added that when he didn’t have it ready on time, occurring only on the rare occasion before he attended Hope’s Peak, he feigned illness so he could finish it at home and the consequent guilt made his supposed illness appear genuine to his parents.
Chihiro told everyone they wore bloomers.
When Hifumi opted to complete a dare once the bottle pointed at him, a chorus of voices dared him not to suggest any more truths or dares for the remainder of the game and Sakura squeezed Chihiro’s shoulder protectively. Mondo cracked his knuckles. Hifumi squeaked consent.
By the time the neck of the bottle lined up with Sayaka, Mukuro admitted to harbouring a crush on a boy in their class, Chihiro stood on their head for thirty seconds (Aoi and Sayaka holding up their skirt with averted eyes), Yasuhiro dunked his head into a bucket of cold water, Kyouko revealed she wore gloves to hide scars on her hands, Kiyotaka kissed Mondo on the cheek (then on the mouth when Junko and Leon urged him on), Junko challenged Mukuro to a piggyback race with Makoto and Kyouko riding on their backs in that order, Mondo went on a two minute tirade about cats, dogs and bears after Chihiro asked for his favourite animal, and Makoto admitted he wet the bed until fifth grade.
Celes interlocked her fingers. “Truth or dare, Maizono-san?”
Makoto could almost hear the mantra booming in Leon’s head.
Sayaka beamed. “Dare.”
“Fuck yeah!” Leon punched the air and jumped up with his fist. He opened his eyes, saw everyone staring, and coughed into the back of his hand as he sat down. “Hey, Naegi, you’ve been real quiet. Why don’t you give Maizono-chan her dare? ‘Cause you’ve been real quiet?”
Maizono-chan. Leon had brought out the honorifics.
“Maizono-san, I dare you to stand in a closet for five minutes with Kuwata-kun,” Makoto said. He was going to punch himself later for this.
Leon sprung to his feet and cupped his hands over the back of his head, looking down as he failed to suppress a grin. “Man, Naegi, an entire five minutes? I’ve got to, uh, take a... you know. A shit or shit. There’s a closet in the bedroom upstairs so I’ll meet you outside. You guys carry on truthing and daring without us, okay?”
The three walked through the kitchen, Leon lingering behind to adjust his hair using the window over the sink as a mirror. Makoto and Sayaka went on without him, climbing the stairs and standing outside the building’s only bedroom.
Sayaka hummed.
Makoto’s chest panged. “Maizono-san, you’re okay with this, aren’t you? Five minutes is a long time...”
“You don’t need to worry about me,” she said. “A dare is a dare and I’ve stood for much longer on stage. And I’ve danced for hours with little break lots of times... staying still in a closet is nothing I can’t handle. I’m tougher than I look, you know.”
“I know.” That made him feel a bit better. Just a bit.
Leon swaggered up the stairs a minute later and patted Makoto on the back. “Oowada and Ishimaru said you’ve got to stand guard outside to make sure we do it. They’ll be asking you to make sure... not that any of us are gonna do something shady, right?”
His breath was tinged with mint.
“S-Sure,” Makoto said, opening the door. The bedroom contained only necessities- a bed, a wardrobe, a desk and a lamp.
Across the room was the door to the walk-in closet, which Leon reached first. “So five minutes... try not to daydream while we’re in there, Naegi.” He amended in a hoarse whisper, “Give us seven minutes in there minimum.”
That deserved no acknowledgement.
“Ready?” Leon flung open the closet door. “‘Cause I sure-! Seriously?”
Makoto and Sayaka craned their necks and peered over Leon’s shoulders.
So that was there Byakuya and Touko disappeared to.
“What the fuck?” Leon’s eyes darted around as if searching for an escape route or for the walls to collapse to reveal he had been an unsuspecting player in a game show. Makoto sympathised. “What the fuck?”
Byakuya removed his mouth from the crevice between Touko’s shoulder and neck, the saliva chain connecting them on the verge of separation when he turned his head and glared. “Can I help you?”
If he was trying to be dignified, he failed. He didn’t even take his hands out from underneath her blouse or pull back the knee he had between her legs.
Sayaka clapped her hands together. “Congratulations, you two! I always thought you would make a cute couple.”
“Don’t praise them.” Leon rubbed his eyes and ogled them again. “You guys really have no shame, you know.”
Makoto was tempted to laugh. So very tempted.
“What about you?” Touko snarled, her fingers curling around Byakuya’s collar. “Why are you here? For a threeway?”
He wasn’t in the mood for laughing anymore.
“Just...” Leon motioned toward the door. “Just... go. And hell no we’re not! No threeway. I was dared. Fuck, I’m not explaining myself to you. There’s no threeway. Beat it!”
Byakuya pried his hands off Touko and buttoned up his shirt, not meeting any of their eyes as he hobbled past them with Touko squeezing close to him.
Makoto hoped he would wipe the lipstick off his mouth before joining the others.
Leon brushed imaginary dust off his hands. “Now that’s over with, why don’t we-?”
Kyouko poked her head through the doorway. “Asahina-san’s feeling sick so we’re all going back to the school. It’s getting late anyway. I thought I would let you know.”
Sayaka walked over to Kyouko. “How awful! Poor Asahina-san. At least we all had a good time. Naegi-kun, are you heading back with us?”
“S-Sure.” Makoto followed her.
“Bye, Kuwata-kun.” Sayaka waved at Leon. “That was one of the best parties I’ve ever been to. Really. So, Kirigiri-san, are you still up for ice skating tomorrow? I’ll make the usual for lunch and we can eat when we get back.”
Kyouko rubbed the back of her neck. “That would be perfect. Thank you.”
When the door closed behind Makoto, he swore he heard Leon sob.