Work Text:
Makoto Naegi had really, honestly, 100% meant to tell his classmates about his birthday.
It was one of those things: He’d forgotten to mention it on the first day, then it had slipped his mind for another few weeks, then there was a break and he hadn’t asked for anyone’s number so he couldn’t exactly text them, and then by the time he’d gotten back to school he’d somehow managed to convince himself that he’d definitely told everyone and forgot about the matter entirely.
Point being, as Makoto woke up on the February 5th of his first year at Hope’s Peak Academy, he had the sudden, sickening realization that no one would know it was his birthday.
And… well, once the day was here, you couldn’t just announce it, right? Then people might feel awkward for not getting you anything, or ask why you hadn’t told them sooner and doubt the strength of your relationship, or become privately firm in their conviction that you were an actual idiot. Which, while not inaccurate, would hurt.
Makoto’s spirits were slightly lifted by a call from Komaru, which he picked up on the second ring.
“Happy birthday, Makoto!” Komaru’s cheery voice rang out from the speaker.
Makoto grinned. “Hey, Komaru. You’re up early.”
“Wouldn’t miss my dearest brother’s special day for the world!” He could feel the snark dripping from her voice, but he sensed the sincerity. It was awfully nice of her to call.
“Running for sister of the year, huh?”
“Psh, like it’s hard.” Komaru giggled. “Your present’s probably gonna get there late, but I promise it’s on its way! You’re gonna have to let me know what everyone else got you, okay?”
The reminder placed a heavy weight on Makoto’s chest, but he didn’t mention it. “Yeah, for sure! I’m sure your present will be my favorite, though.”
“Aw, you’re too sweet.” Komaru’s smile came clear through her tone. “I gotta go, okay? I don’t wanna hold you up and make you miss class. Love ya!”
“Love you too, Komaru!” Makoto tried to inject enthusiasm into his voice, but as he disconnected the call, he was certain it hadn’t stuck.
It wasn’t like he was self-absorbed, or even that into attention (quite the opposite, actually). It was just nice to be appreciated on your birthday. It was nice to feel wanted, to be a part of a group, to get to, for a moment, be the focus of the class (Makoto was deeply and regrettably accustomed to being pushed to the side, and Hope’s Peak was no exception). Plus, his classmates threw great birthday parties, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t a little disappointed that he was going to miss it.
Still, he picked himself up with a cheery smile, pulled on pants, and slipped on his binder, t-shirt, hoodie, jacket (jeez, he wore a lot of layers) and bag before walking out of his dorm and heading to class.
He wasn’t the last in the door, but the room was already abuzz with chatter by the time he’d made it inside. In fact, aside from a quick “hey, Makoto!” and “Good morning, Makoto!” (from Sayaka and Taka respectively), he was virtually completely ignored. Unsurprising, and fully expected, but somehow still disheartening. Makoto sat down in his chair and took out a manga Komaru had recommended to him a few months back (he was terrible at getting around to reading things).
He was a few pages in when he felt distinctly that he was being watched. He turned to glance around, but he was still being largely ignored. Shrugging to himself, he turned back to his book, freezing when something caught his eye.
Byakuya Togami was staring at him. No, not just staring; Byakuya Togami was burning a hole into the back of Makoto’s head with his eyeballs. An undefinable and clearly intense emotion was splashed across his face.
It took a moment for Byakuya to realize he’d been caught. As soon as he did, he narrowed his eyes and beckoned Makoto with two fingers, a sharp gesture that left nothing to question.
Whether or not that was a little bit hot was nobody’s business but Makoto’s. All the rest of the world needed to know was that Makoto went over to Byakuya’s desk immediately, where the latter placed a cell phone into the former’s hand.
“Put your number into my phone.” The words came out hissed, almost too quiet to be heard in the noisy classroom.
“What?” Makoto was certain he’d misinterpreted.
Byakuya rolled his eyes. “Are your ears as dull as your mind? Put. Your. Number. Into. My. Phone.” At Makoto’s hesitance, he closed his eyes in silent frustration. “I won’t repeat myself a third time.”
Barely stopping for a second to consider whether or not he wanted Byakuya to have his number (because he was nice and definitely not because he super did want that), Makoto punched it in and handed it back. Byakuya nodded stiffly.
“Good. Go back to your desk and pretend that nothing happened.”
Confused, Makoto obeyed. After a few moments of silence, he got a text.
???: This is Byakuya Togami, heir to the Togami Corporation. Am I correct in assuming that I’ve reached Makoto Naegi?
Makoto frowned at the message. First, he puzzled over the tone (was Byakuya about to launch into a business proposal?) before giving up and wondering at the context. Why was Byakuya texting him? What did he need to say?
Makoto: Yeah its me. You okay byakuya? :)
Byakuya: Don’t make it so obvious that you’re texting. Do you want to be discovered?
Makoto: ,,I mean im really not sure what we’re doing that would be discovered?? Did you have something you needed to ask or
Makoto could feel the sigh from the other side of the room. He bit back a laugh, certain that Byakuya was mocking him but unable to find any real bite in it.
Byakuya: Why isn’t anyone mentioning your birthday?
Makoto froze. What?
Makoto: What?
Byakuya: Actually, I suppose the ‘why’ isn’t terribly interesting to me. Do you have any classes that you absolutely can’t miss?
As Makoto typed, his mind reeled. What was happening? Why wouldn’t Byakuya stop speaking in riddles for a second and explain himself? How did he know about his birthday?
Why did he care?
Makoto: I have an English test that I cant miss. Thats my first period, actually, im kinda nervous
Byakuya: If I wanted your life story, I would’ve asked. Meet me outside after first period.
Makoto: Will you please explain what’s going on????
Makoto waited for a response, but Byakuya seemed to be done. He glanced back to find him making calls and pretending that Makoto didn’t exist. Groaning, Makoto put away his phone and read Komaru’s manga until the bell rang.
….
Byakuya was waiting at the gate when Makoto arrived. He looked up from his phone to see Makoto approach, that same undefinable expression on his face.
“Hey, Byakuya.” Makoto bounced on his feet as he waved, trying to force more genuineness into an awkward gesture.
Byakuya huffed. “Hello, Makoto.” Without any elaboration, he turned on his heel and began to walk out of the school.
“W- hey!” Makoto jogged to catch up. “Where are we going? Byakuya, what are you doing?”
Byakuya stopped walking. “I’m going to take you out to celebrate. What does it look like I’m doing?”
Makoto felt his throat tighten with incredulity. “Byakuya, you’ve never done anything nice for anyone in your life, why… what is this?”
“Don’t stutter so much. You sound like an idiot.” Byakuya straightened his suit. “Besides, what I do or do not spend my time doing is absolutely none of your concern. We have a reservation for lunch in a few hours, so we need to get going if we want to be there in time.”
“Okay, fine, but one more question first. How did you even know it was my birthday? I didn’t tell anyone.”
For the first time that day, Byakuya almost seemed surprised (and, maybe, a little rattled). “Would you have preferred that I didn’t know? Were you actually trying to keep it secret?”
“No, no! I’m actually really glad someone figured it out, but… how?”
“I have my ways. I’m a very powerful member of high society, Makoto. If I wanted, I could know practically anything about you.”
Makoto gave an impressed hum, slipping out his phone as he walked.
Makoto: Hey kyoko is there any way to access students dates of birth and stuff
Kyoko: The student handbook has it, why?
Makoto: No reason
“But why did you look?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
Makoto laughed. “What, did you wanna make sure you were older or something?” His snort was cut off by the noticeable pink around Byakuya’s ears. “No.”
“I,” Byakuya said slowly, as if by sheer force of will he could turn off his blush, “didn’t say anything. You aren’t clever enough to glean anything from me that I don’t give you directly. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
Makoto let out a truly undignified cackle. “You did! And… oh my god, am I older than you?”
“Age is of no concern in the hierarchy of society,” Byakuya said stiffly. “I was the youngest of my siblings, and, yet, I emerge victorious while they fester in a place worse than death.”
Makoto tried not to laugh. “Right, right. And that’s why you checked?”
“We aren’t discussing this anymore, Makoto. You’re better when you’re silent.”
Makoto pointed accusingly. “I knew it! You just want me for my pretty face!”
“If I wanted a pretty face, I’d find a mirror. Come on.”
Makoto laughed and followed. There was a time when Byakuya’s barbs would’ve stung, but he knew better now. Makoto wasn’t good at much, but he liked to think that he was decently emotionally intelligent. He could tell when Byakuya was actually angry, and when he was just… being Byakuya. This example was decidedly the latter.
The two boys finally made their way to what Makoto quickly realized was a large greenhouse. Two security guards were posted outside.
“Um, Byakuya?” Makoto tugged on the taller boy’s sleeve. “What’re we doing here? This is private property.”
They approached the greenhouse, and Byakuya didn’t slow (and, therefore, neither did Makoto). The security guards gave Byakuya a sharp nod as he passed, and eyed Makoto with similar cool respect.
“Of course it’s private,” Byakuya said finally. “But you and I have access, if only for a few hours.” He turned to face Makoto. “I doubt it will be quite as impressive as the garden at Hope’s Peak, but it’s said to be quite beautiful.”
“Plus, no plants here will try to eat us?” Makoto asked hopefully.
Byakuya’s lips twitched. “Exactly.”
The garden was beautiful—air heavy and thick with humidity and the perfume of a thousand flowers. The aisles were lined with plants that Makoto couldn’t name, bright and leafy and nearly overwhelming in their size, the fronds of one plant stubbornly smacking him across the face as he walked.
“Do you know what any of these are called?”
“The names are on plaques,” Byakuya said wryly. “You can read, can’t you?”
“Of course I can read,” Makoto said with a roll of his eyes, “but I wanted to know if you knew about any of them.” He nudged Byakuya’s shoulder. “It’s a conversation starter.”
“Oh.” Byakuya seemed almost genuinely surprised. “Do you honestly want me to…”
“It’s my birthday,” Makoto reminded him, flashing a bright smile. “You pretty much have to do whatever I say.”
“I do not,” Byakuya said immediately, horror at the implication clear in his voice, but he turned to study a bright yellow flower. “This is the Amur Adonis. It’s native to Japan, as are most of the plants here. It can live for over two years.” He turned to catch Makoto’s eye. “Oh, and its roots are poisonous, so don’t try to eat them.”
Makoto narrowed his eyes. “Wasn’t planning on it. Why do you know that?”
Byakuya shrugged. “You’ll find that much of my vast encyclopedia of memorized knowledge comes back to toxins, murder, mystery… it’s what interests me. That being said, I’m actually not entirely sure if these roots are deadly. There wasn’t much about them in our family library, considering that there are plenty of other plants listed as ‘adonis’. It got boring, and I moved on.”
“So you read about this plant once, and you’re able to spout off a bunch of fun facts about it off the top of your head?” Makoto shook his head. “Byakuya, you may be kind of a dick, but you’re really smart.”
Byakuya deflected the compliment with a click of his teeth, but Makoto could tell that he was pleased. It sent warmth to the center of Makoto’s chest.
They spent the next hour exploring the greenhouse. At first, they were strictly discussing plants, but then Makoto asked about Byakuya’s studies, which led to him mentioning taking a class in criminal psychology, which then led to them discussing unsolved mysteries (by the time they were finished with the discussion, both were convinced that they’d figured out the identity of at least three serial killers and solid leads for another several). Eventually, Byakuya unslung his bag and pulled out the files for a case so that Makoto could read it, too.
“No, no, you’re not looking at this the right way.” Makoto rounded a corner, pacing. “The fact that his wife was found to have falsified evidence doesn’t just mean that he no longer has an alibi, it means that there was something to hide.”
“Yes, but even with that, he was overseas when the last three murders occurred. Meanwhile, our baker has no alibi, access to the poisons through his friend - who, by the way, would’ve certainly kept quiet if it was for someone he cared about - and a history of violent crime. This is an open and shut case, Makoto.”
Makoto exhaled through his nose, frustration rising. “I don’t think it’s the baker.”
Byakuya raised an eyebrow. “Do you have proof?”
Makoto narrowed his eyes, thinking. “No. No. I don’t. But there are little things that don’t make sense, right?”
“Interesting. Elaborate?”
“Well… you claim he got the poison from his friend. But they weren’t speaking, right? Besides, if you really cared about your friend and they asked for deadly poison - especially if your friend had a history of violent crime - would you? And if you didn’t care enough, you’d tell on him. Unless you’re implying that the friend was a deliberate accomplice, which wouldn’t make sense because one of the last victims was his sister, there’s no way he’d just hand the baker off some fucking cyanide.”
“Please, no cursing when we’re discussing serial murder, it rots my brain.” Byakuya rubbed his temples, tugging on his lower lip. “You raise a fair point. I hadn’t considered that.”
“Thank you!” Makoto played it off like it was nothing, but he couldn’t pretend that the compliment (a rarity from Byakuya) wasn’t nice to hear.
By the time they were out of the greenhouse, Makoto was worried they’d be late for lunch. Byakuya assured him it was no issue - the restaurant would adjust - but it seemed unfair to potentially lose them customers, so, begrudgingly, Byakuya followed at a quicker pace.
As they sat down to eat, Byakuya asked him the same question that had started the day: “Why doesn’t anyone know about your birthday?”
“Oh!” Makoto put down his food to talk. “I, uh… actually, I forgot to tell anybody.”
Byakuya blinked. “You… forgot.”
“Yeah.” Makoto felt something heavy in his chest - shame, maybe? - but he ignored it in favor of an awkward half-laugh. “It’s stupid, I know, but I just kinda… y’know, forgot to do it on the first day, and then forgot for another week, and then-“
“Why didn’t anyone ask?” Byakuya interrupted.
Makoto paused. “I guess they just didn’t think of it? I mean, you didn’t ask.”
“No, but I already knew.” Why did Byakuya seem nearly upset over this? “You spend so much time trying to make sure everyone’s happy, and… what, they can’t be bothered to check up on your birthday?”
“Byakuya, are you okay?” Makoto was seriously confused. “You never give a shit about people’s birthdays.”
Byakuya rolled his eyes as though the question were stupid. “Of course I don’t. Everyone else has that particular market cornered. But… birthdays are important for commoners. If I am meant to lead you lesser folk into the future, it’s my responsibility to make sure you aren’t…” He made a vague gesture that explained nothing. “Besides, aren’t I allowed to do something nice for once?”
No, Makoto thought, but he didn’t voice his confusion. Byakuya was lying, he could tell. There was something else going on. Still, he wouldn’t press.
“What classes do you take, anyway?” Byakuya took a sip of water as he spoke. “What kind of training does being the Ultimate Lucky Student even entail?”
“Oh! Mostly it’s just… y’know, normal classes. They’re not teaching me to flip coins or anything. It’s like I’m just… y’know, just a regular student. I get to pick a lot of electives, though. I think it’s a test, to see if there’s any one path that I excel in.”
“What sort of electives do you generally choose?”
“All kinds, really,” said Makoto. “I like Debate… stuff like art and creative writing aren’t really my strong suit, but I enjoy them… I’m doing musical theatre…”
Byakuya stopped him with a hand. “No. Go back. You’re doing what?”
“Uh, yeah! I’m in the school musical, actually. Just the ensemble, but it’s a lot of fun.”
Byakuya stared off into the middle distance, face entirely unreadable. “You’re… you’re in the school play. The school musical. You’re an arts kid.”
Makoto flushed. “I mean, not really. Like I said, I’m trying out a lot of stuff.”
“One of which is the school musical.”
“Yes!” Makoto felt his blush spread to his ears and the back of his neck. “Why is this so hard to believe?”
Byakuya considered the question. “It’s not. That’s part of what’s so maddening about it.” He shook his head, almost chuckling. “It's just fitting in a puzzling way, that's all. When is it?”
“Wait, what?”
“I keep finding that you’re not quite as much of an idiot as I’ve given you credit for, so I need new material to ridicule you for. When’s the musical being performed?”
“You want to come see my show?” Was he even speaking to Byakuya? Was this the kid from the class above him playing some kind of practical joke (Makoto had never actually met the Ultimate Imposter, but he figured it might be within the realm of possibility)?
Byakuya closed his eyes in half-exasperation. “I’m not going to say it a third time. Jesus, Makoto, it’s not all that big of a deal. Kyoko’s going, isn’t she?”
“Yeah! And Sayaka, which means Mukuro’s probably coming, too.” His friends had been dancing around each other for months. It was exhausting. “But they’re… I mean, they’re my friends.”
Byakuya stiffened. “Oh. I… of course.”
Makoto had been confused for most of this conversation, but now he was downright floored. Byakuya was hurt. He was doing his best to hide it - taking a bite of his lunch like nothing was wrong - but Makoto wasn’t an idiot. He’d upset Byakuya.
“I… I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”
“What?”
“I mean, of course you’re my friend, too, I just… I don’t know, I thought you wouldn’t want me to say something like that, y’know?”
Byakuya snorted. “Wait. Do you think you’ve offended me?”
“Yeah, kinda.” Makoto figured honesty was the best policy, although he had no doubt the same courtesy wouldn’t be extended to him.
“You give yourself too much credit.” Byakuya didn’t elaborate.
“Still, though, you are my friend. As long as you want to be, that is.” Makoto reached over and poked Byakuya’s hand with a smile. As if on instinct, Byakuya reached up and caught the finger before he could retract it. His hand was warm, and a little rougher than Makoto had expected. For a moment, they were both silent, staring at their connected hands. Byakuya wasn’t letting go. Makoto didn’t ask him to.
There was what he could only describe as an ache where their skin touched, something warm and gentle and vaguely nostalgic. Longing, maybe.
“I…” Byakuya spoke, before seeming to think better of it and closing his mouth. Makoto didn’t respond. He didn’t move to hold hands with Byakuya any more than he already was. He just sat, enjoying the tiny moment they’d created.
Eventually, as all moments did, it passed. Byakuya retracted his hand, Makoto busied himself with lunch, and the conversation moved on. Still, it had happened. The ghost of Byakuya’s palm still whispered on Makoto’s index finger. It was real.
And Makoto, self-proclaimed body language aficionado, had no fucking idea what it had meant.
Well, okay, that was an exaggeration. There was a pretty clear implication. Makoto was an oblivious dumbass, but even he wasn’t dumb enough to not get that. Still… it seemed almost impossible. It was Byakuya. It was Byakuya Togami, Ultimate Affluent Progeny, sole heir to the Togami Corporation, blah, blah, blah. And Makoto was Makoto.
It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense, because Byakuya didn’t like anyone. Because Byakuya was cold, and successful, and didn’t let himself succumb to the “weakness of human emotion”. Because Byakuya was everything that Makoto was not. Because Byakuya turned heads.
Because nobody even thought to ask when Makoto’s birthday was.
After lunch, the two stood and left the restaurant. Makoto pretended not to notice that Byakuya was closer to him, walking side by side instead of leading, fingertips inches apart. It didn’t mean anything.
“I actually don’t have plans for the rest of the day,” admitted Byakuya. “If there’s anything else you’d like to do, I’ll follow your lead.”
Makoto raised his eyebrows. “Byakuya Togami, following my lead? No pressure, huh?”
Byakuya shook his head, laughing. “I’m judging your every move, you know that.”
“How am I doing so far?” Was this flirting? Were they flirting?
“Not as abysmally as I’d pictured.” Yeah, okay, that was flirting. Maybe. Did Byakuya flirt?
They decided to close out the day in the park. It was easy, close, and free (Byakuya assured Makoto that money was no object, but Makoto really didn’t want to make him spend more on him). They sat on a bench together and watched the world go by, quiet but not awkward.
Makoto was thinking about what Byakuya had said. Why didn’t anyone ask? It wasn’t an unfair question. Birthdays were a pretty big affair in their class, and Makoto was always part of planning. Surely, someone would’ve asked at some point, right?
Or… maybe they wouldn’t. That was a cruel thought, but it wasn’t impossible. They were Ultimates, after all. They were definitely pretty busy with their own lives, and Makoto was easily forgettable. He tended to fade into the background, whether by default or… or by choice.
Oh. Makoto felt the truth of the situation hit him like a truck.
“What’s going on in there?” Byakuya poked his hair gently, leaning over to look at him. “You look like you just had an epiphany.”
“I, uh… I just kinda realized something.”
“Unusual for you, is it?” When Makoto didn’t laugh, Byakuya’s brow creased in concern. “What is it?”
Makoto closed his eyes, almost scared of what Byakuya might say. “I didn’t forget. To tell everyone, I mean.” He sighed. “I mean, I kind of did? It was more subconscious than anything else, I just… I don’t know, I didn’t want to tell anyone because I didn’t want to bother you guys.”
Byakuya narrowed his eyes, confused. “Did it bother you when… say, Junko announced her birthday to the class?”
“No! Of course not, I was glad she’d told me.” Makoto fiddled with a lock of his hair.
“What about Celeste? Or Leon? Or Sayaka?”
“No, no. They all deserve it, they deserve an awesome birthday. They’re all so talented, and… y’know, cool and stuff…”
“Cool and stuff,” Byakuya echoed with faint amusement.
“Shut up,” Makoto mumbled. “But… I mean, you know. They’re special. Their birthdays may be national holidays someday.”
Byakuya’s eyes widened slightly and he mouthed a silent ‘oh.’ “And yours…”
“It’s just a day.” Makoto felt his face burn.
“That's stupid.” Makoto looked up in surprise, to find Byakuya was glaring at a tree in a direct attempt to avoid eye contact. “Everyone’s birthday is ‘just a day.’ If you want it to become more than that, you need to make it so, and that simply will not happen if no one knows about it. Besides…” Byakuya turned to face Makoto. “If you’re worried about your birthday being less ‘special’ than everyone else’s, you shouldn’t concern yourself. None of your fellow classmates’ birthdays come close to being as profound a day as mine, and they all appear to be perfectly comfortable.”
Makoto snorted. “So, you’re saying that my birthday isn’t less special than my fellow classmates, just less special than yours?”
“Naturally,” Byakuya said with a nod. “And even if we are judging based on talent, I’d say you’re at least evenly matched with, say, Hiro. Do you think his birthday deserves to be ignored?”
“This is the most backwards way I’ve ever been cheered up.”
“Is it working?” Byakuya tilted his head hopefully, before sighing and fixing his gaze onto the tree again. “Alright. Let me try again. Makoto, there are… there are people who would disagree with you. People who don’t think you’re… less than, or unworthy, or whatever else you might have deluded yourself into believing. Honestly, if I had to wager a guess, I’d say most of the class would disagree. You’re… Makoto, you know how much our classmates appreciate you, don’t you?”
Makoto squinted at him. “What?”
“Jesus.” Byakuya took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You’re forcing me to reevaluate my reevaluation of your intelligence, but that’s… that’s fine. I’m not exactly part of the group, so call me an unbiased, outside observer. Everyone adores you, Makoto.”
“Everyone?” Makoto teased.
“Ev- well, certainly not every- I mean, there’s no one that-“ Byakuya shut his mouth. “I’m going to stop talking now, and we’re going to move on.”
“Don’t stutter so much. You sound like an idiot.” Makoto smiled brightly, nudging his shoulder.
“Christ.” Byakuya sighed. “Alright, yes. Everyone likes you. You’re… you’re just so damnably likable. It’s almost irritating.”
“You’re so sweet.”
“No, I-“ Byakuya shook his head. “I’m being honest. You’re a good person, and that’s… admirable. In a sense.”
Makoto nodded. “Thank you.”
“And you are worthy. Of birthdays, and friendship, and whatever else. Or, at least, as much as any member of the 99% is.”
“Thank you,” he repeated. “Really.”
“And I’m in love with you.” Byakuya slapped a hand over his mouth. “Damnit.” The word came muffled by his fingers.
Perhaps from shock, perhaps from glee, and perhaps from the sheer absurdity of the situation, Makoto’s reaction was to burst into laughter. Byakuya turned hot pink, staring indignantly at Makoto as he doubled over with laughter.
“You don’t have t- it was a simple m- stop laughing at me!” His voice raised in panic, and Makoto pulled himself together.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! That just was… god, Byakuya, that was hilarious.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
“No, I know-“ oh. He wasn’t joking. “Oh.”
“Oh,” Byakuya echoed, drilling a hole into the path before them with his eyes. “I’m… that was a mistake. This was a mistake. I’m sorry.”
“What?” Makoto grabbed his arm. “No, no no! Don’t… leave, or anything, you just caught me off-guard. Sorry I laughed.”
“It’s fine.” Byakuya was stock-still. “I’m not used to this.”
“What?”
“Telling people when I’m feeling things. Also, feeling things. Also, feeling things that my father would probably shoot me for.”
Oh. Right. “If it’s not safe, you don’t… I mean, we don’t have to hang out outside of school, I won’t go to your house… your dad doesn’t have to know-“
“What?”
Oh, right. “Yeah, I love you, too. But, really, I can be covert. I’m a better liar than you’d expect-“
“Makoto.”
“-and you’re definitely a good liar, I know that-“
“Makoto!”
“-so we could-“
“Makoto!”
Makoto quieted. “Yes?”
Byakuya looked positively furious, gesturing with his hands until he found words. “You can’t just say something like that and move on!”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“No, don’t be… damnit, don’t be sorry, just… don’t be an asshole, either. This is a little bit important to me.”
“It’s important to me, too!” Makoto protested. “I just thought it would be easier if I didn’t make too big of a deal out of it, y’know?”
“I… in the future, maybe don’t do that.” Byakuya covered his face with his hands. “Damnit. You really…”
“Oh, god yeah. You’ve seen yourself in the mirror, right?” Byakuya shot him a look. “Okay, yeah, it’s not just that. You’re… you’re smart, and you’re funny, and you know things about flowers that I’ve never even heard of, and… I just feel better when I’m talking to you, okay? Even if you’re insulting me- well, maybe not when you’re insulting insulting me, but I’m getting better at telling the difference, and anyway you’ve gotten better at not doing that, which I appreciate, and also-“
“I get it!” Byakuya yelped, staring at the ground again as though he were trying to will away his flush.
“Oh, sorry.” Makoto wanted to laugh (Byakuya. Byakuya flustered. Byakuya flustered because of something he’d said), but instead he grabbed Byakuya’s hand. “Point is, yes, I like you a lot. For a lot of really good reasons. And because you’re stupid pretty.”
“I… appreciate the compliment. You’re… god, I can’t even say it out loud.” Byakuya closed his eyes. “Makoto, you’re so idiotically gorgeous that it hurts to think about you, and you’re smart, and you’re ridiculously kind, and I’ve liked you for months. Happy?”
Makoto tried to force himself to remember how to breathe. “Ecstatic.”
There was a moment of silence, and, then, entirely without warning, “I’m gay.” Silence for a moment. “I assume that was inferred, but I’ve never told anyone, and… hell, it took a while for me to…”
“Yeah! No, I get it. I’m bi.” Makoto grabbed Byakuya’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
“I know,” Byakuya said with a half-smile. “You came out to everyone the first day of school. I think I knew your sexuality and gender identity before I knew your Ultimate.”
Makoto laughed. “Yeah, I tend to just… power through it like that, y’know? Makes things easier.” He grinned. “Thanks for telling me, though.” He leaned into Byakuya’s shoulder, and, after a moment, Byakuya leaned back.
They sat in silence for a while. Makoto tried to internalize what Byakuya had said: He had value. He was loved. He was worthy. It wasn’t all that simple, but… with Byakuya next to him, maybe it could be. Someday.
A thought struck him suddenly, and he leaned back, eyes widening. “Oh, god.”
Byakuya looked over, concern in his eyes. “What? What is it?”
“Toko’s gonna kill me.”
Byakuya’s laughter echoed through the park, bright and loud and startlingly undignified, hanging in the air like diamonds, until Makoto joined him and they nearly fell off the bench together.
God, Makoto was the luckiest person in the world.