Chapter Text
The killing game began with sixteen students; pushed directly into the oblivion of the unknown, instructed to bear the weight of all they had left of their world onto their backs, as anguish and incomprehensible tragedy was suddenly hauled upon their shoulders.
Despair was like poison; vile and often intense, contagious as it seeps its way through the cracks and crevices of the even the upmost solidified stone-cold willpower of those reluctant to succumb to it.
The killing game began with sixteen students. One by one, they began to fall as the process of the torture continued throughout their school lives. The once seemingly crowded elevator that would guide a variety of students to their trial room, their ultimate demise, remained ominously vacant, and eerily quiet...
Too quiet. As if the only remaining amount of hope left inside the ill-fitting titled, "Hope's Peak Academy", was swallowed by a lifeless ambiance that spread its way like poison through veins.
The killing game began with sixteen students before they had been kenneled like dogs and forced to fight for a future that they had already lost to despair itself, before the doubt and fear of others began a downfall within their enclosed society tucked far inside the schools' walls.
The slaughterhouse of high school level ultimates began as a result.
The killing game began with sixteen students" Byakuya pondered, "and now, only the mere six of us remain".
Previously, he hadn't been bothered by what these words fully entailed. He had no dubitably come to terms with the fact that the majority of the class in which Byakuya Togami had supposedly grown accustom to (supposedly being the key word here as his memories of the past two years had left an unfilled void with fragments that left more questions than answers) had faced either murder or execution. It wasn't like Togami to get attached to others, especially to those of less significance, so that very clearly could not be the problem here. So what was it that kept nagging at the back of his mind?
Perhaps it could be the fact that Byakuya Togami didn't fully understand how they managed to win. How on earth he and his five fellow schoolmates had somehow managed to conquer and defeat a system designed to such excruciating detail that existed for the sole purpose of showing that the motive of despair, in itself, could not fail?
Perhaps it could be that his journey didn’t feel anywhere near complete. As if there was more to be done… maybe more he could have done.
Perhaps it was the fall of the outside world that had shaken him, and he was merely needing to get accustomed to his newfound lifestyle of rebuilding his honor outside of the killing game.
Whatever it may be, the mental adjustment of finally leaving the depair filled “Hope’s Peak Academy”, had left him in a confounding daze.
A loud crash pulled Byakuya from his thoughts.
Reluctant and frankly annoyed, Byakuya snapped to the present, where a guilty looking Yasuhiro stood next to a pile of medium sized boxes. By the sound of it, whatever contents may have been inside were most definitely broken. Exasperated groans immediately fallowed.
"Seriously?"
"Idiot!"
"You're going t-to get us killed!"
"So much for keeping a low profile."
Yasuhiro hastily collected what appeared to be any salvageable pieces of the junk he had bothered to take with him. Byakuya creased his brows, grimacing in frustration. It appears that even in the midst of Armageddon, Yasuhiro Hagakure had remained completely and utterly dull.
“Scolding him won’t do us any good.” Kyoko stated blatantly. Whether or not she was a pain in the ass to deal with, he did admire Kirigiri’s ability to maintain levelheadedness with the group of four Byakuya had suitably named “The ultimate nuisance”.
As to who exactly made Kyoko in charge, Byakuya was unsure, however it was in rare occurrences like these in which he didn't feel a need to argue against the others usually collective poor judgement. The spot in which they were staying seemed decently isolated, enclosed by concrete walls of what appeared to have been an abandon building of some sorts. Maybe a supermarket? An office? Regardless, he had no reason to demand they continue moving when there was no certainty of a better alternative ahead. After all, a good majority of the buildings around their area seemed completely destroyed, or at the very least uninhabitable. Not to mention, Kyoko seemed generally unopposed to the idea of getting right to work in developing a suitable plan of survival for the six of them. Both Yasuhiro and the girls fallowed along her lead blindly, as well as Ultimate Lucky Student, Makoto Naegi.
“Truly pathetic” Togami thought. Ever since the six of them had managed to leave "Hope's Peak Academy", all Makoto had managed to focus on, was creating an ideal future of hope. He was reluctant to give up, to the point where Byakuya wondered if Makoto himself could care less about surviving the ongoing tragedy, or self-preservation in general. That was Makoto for you, always thinking about others before himself. He was always selfless like that.
Stupid more than selfless Byakuya had decided.
Unmerited exasperation fallowed at his thoughts of the boy. Truthfully, it happened whenever he thought of Makoto specifically. The room felt warmer as he would brew in the occasional frustration that the boy would bring him. He would slowly become aware of the fact that the rate at which his heart would beat would slowly quicken. He would feel discontent in resting under the boy’s view and would find himself looking at the lucky student, mentally chastising everything about him; from his mannerisms, to his outward appearance. It was a feeling that made Byakuya unnaturally overwhelmed. It was a feeling that made Byakuya angry.
Sure, Byakuya had never been great with specific emotions, but he sure as hell was familiar with anger. Byakuya could recognize the symptoms and body language from miles away, and it didn’t necessarily require a prodigy to identify these complexities in his own… unnatural behavior. In his defense, it was completely justifiable to say he had become slightly exasperated with certain traits of Makoto’s. There was always something about the way Naegi spoke (the boy constantly stammered and desperately required a better understanding of proper speech etiquette), or perhaps how he held himself (always making himself appear so small compared to his taller counterparts), maybe just his mannerisms (unbearably pathetic to witness), that drove him absolutely mad. His loathing towards Makoto had found itself relevant ever since their second trial inside Hope’s Peak, and had only gotten stronger with Makoto's fits of passion of hope and determination.
And obviously, there were a variety of people that Byakuya would prefer not to be associated with, but that was not the case for Naegi. Though he would rather wager away his life savings to Celeste in a game of Uno than ever admit it, Makoto was never the nuisance Byakuya had always made him out to be. He never had it out for the boy, in fact quite the opposite, he would, occasionally, find himself enjoying his company (Truly foreign, Byakuya knows). It was not even a necessarily bad feeling he would catch around the lucky student, but rather an anxious antsy one that made him show these symptoms.
Regardless, the feeling was utterly unwelcomed.
But Byakuya didn't have a problem, no he did not! So, he felt passionately about certain traits Makoto would display. Obviously Byakuya could cope with the irritation that fallowed when the lucky student would do something infuriating, the way the boy would find himself stuttering in awkward situations, how he would constantly reiterate the obvious during trials. Even now, as he rests his fingers upon his lips while pondering in his own thoughts, the stupid way Makoto’s stupid birds nest of hair falls to frame his stupid face.
Byakuya’s mental list continued: how his stupid eyes seemed to dramatically brighten whenever he would find solutions to a problem no one else could possibly fix… How he would constantly try to find the good in people who constantly were undeserving of it, or how he would go out of his stupid way to help his stupid friends… how he would go out of his way to try to help Togami.
The feeling brought knots into his stomach, and made Byakuya want to personally drive a bulldozer through Makoto’s front porch, he was so infuriated.
This was all Makoto’s fault.
Well, Byakuya did not need Makoto’s pity, or whatever trick he was seemingly trying to play to make the progeny to make him absolutely miserable. After all, it was a complete and utter waste of time, only providing him with yet another nuisance.
Yes. it is Makoto’s fault that Byakuya Togami is angry.
Byakuya continued allowing himself to wallow, only snapping out of his thoughts when he heard approaching footsteps.
“Can I help you Yasuhiro?” He asked as he heard the man set something to the ground off beside him.
“Togami!” Hiro crossed his arms looking proudly at the progeny. “I bet you’re wondering what’s in this box!”
Byakuya didn’t even bother to meet his eyes. The conversation had barely begun and Byakuya could feel himself growing tired of this idiot. “Not particularly”.
“You..- you’re not even curious?” Hiro replied, clearly not anticipating his response.
Byakuya studied the box, noticing its similarities to the ones Hiro had practically thrown on the ground.
Byakuya sighed. “Is this where I am supposed to ask ‘Hiro, please enlighten me, what is in this particular package?’”
“I’m glad you asked!” Yasuhiro smiled, unaware of his mocking tone (or perhaps he was aware, but simply chose to ignore it)
“It was before we left Hope’s Peak… before the trial actually. I didn’t know what exactly was gonna happen… but, if there was a chance we were gonna make it out, I figured we’d all have stuff they’d want to bring with them. You know for… I don’t know, memories sake.”
“Why on earth would we want to remember-“
“I don’t know… I just thought, maybe you’d have something important you didn’t wanna leave behind. I uhh.. tried to get as much as I could for everyone left but uhhh, I only really managed a small box worth per person.”
For a brief moment, Byakuya felt an emotion he wasn’t exactly able to put his finger on. The thought, the possibility that each of them would face execution, and Hiro had bothered to preserve items of importance to each of them. As mentioned before, this moment was brief.
“Yasuhiro-“ the wheels in Byakuya’s head slowly began turning. “Where did you find the contents of this package?”
“Huh?”
“You claim to have items of importance to us. How did you even manage to obtain them?”
“Oh! They were in your rooms!”
And there it was.
“What?!”
“Huh?”
“Our rooms” Byakuya said accusatorily, careful to emphasize the words. “They were locked, h-how would you even manage to get in?”
“I’m glad you asked!” Yasuhiro’s face flooded with blissful cheer. “I took your doorknob off!”
Byakuya was silent while Yasuhiro rambled on, looking quite pleased with himself, may he add.
“Last investigation ya’ know? Figured I’d not really much use during the actual investigating thing… might as well make myself useful, ya’ know? So I just used one of those screwey thingies we used to dismantle that one Monokuma, and broke myself in!”
“You.. you broke into my- Have you no regard of my privacy?!”
“Huh?”
Was that seriously the only word this man knew how to say? Byakuya sighed in frustration.
“You seriously went through all of the trouble of violating our privacy, snooping through our business, all for the possibility that- It was in the middle of a trial for God’s sake… The doors were probably unlocked FOR YOU!”
Yasuhiro seemed a bit taken aback before disappointment spread across his face. “Man… and I was really proud of that handiwork too. You’d be surprised how much of a nuisance removing doorknobs would actually be.”
As if to further emphasize his point, Hiro began emptying out his pockets, as multiple doorknobs scattered the floor.
At this point, Byakuya was too astonished to speak, his head filling with questions like: “Why did you actually take time out of your day to do this?”, “What are you getting out of this?”, “What if there’s something in that box I don’t want to see?”, “What if Monokuma had put something inside of the box during our trial?”, “Why are there doorknobs in your pocket?”, ”Is this some sort of blackmail?”, “ What do I even do with this?” “Yasuhiro, are you seriously wearing the same clothes as when we left?”, “Why haven’t you showered?”, “Why are there doorknobs in your pocket-“
“Hey man” Yasuhiro quickly put a reassuring hand on Byakuya’s shoulder (repulsive). “I know exactly what you’re thinking.” Byakuya looked up at the man, mouth agape. “And trust me, don’t even worry about it… you could totally pay me back for this later.”
Before even giving Togami a chance to respond, Yasuhiro gave Byakuya a hasty thumbs up before running off to God-knows where, doorknobs continuously spilling out his pockets as he ran.
And Byakuya was left with the box.
It had fallen night faster than he had anticipated. He couldn’t sleep; if he slept, he dreamed, and when he dreamed... well.
Here’s a fun little fact about Togami, he’s not exactly as unbothered as his presence may suggest. He knew nightmares were a common occurrence among the six of them. He would initially scoff at the thought. It seemed so childish at the time, the idea of nightmares, like something he would have dealt with at the ripe age of six. Yet here he was, unwilling to allow himself rest, and out of what… fear? No, no, no that could not be it. After all, Byakuya had made it out just fine, and those who had immensely suffered as a result of the game had no direct effect on the progeny. Truly, he could care less about what happened to them. Everything that had happened: the murders, the trials, the betrayals, they happened so the Togami lineage could thrive. Only a fool would find themselves haunted by the situation.
So what was it that just kept bugging at him?
He sighed and reluctantly rose from his futile attempt sleep. He sat on his small cot (how pathetic, the heir of the Togami lineage, forced to take rest where not even a commoner would bother to sleep), and lowered his head into his hands. He needed to clear his hand.
Byakuya raised his head slowly, eyes landing on the box.
Something about the thought of it made him sick. The idea of everything the six of them had gone through, compiled into one small box of torment a person.
Byakuya shook the thoughts from his head. This was silly. It should not bother him. There is no reason for it to bother him. No… It doesn’t bother him. He flicked on the small light, before picking up the (surprisingly heavy) package of all that was left of his life at Hope’s Peak Academy. He slowly began to open its contents.
The first thing he noticed were books. Lots and lots of books. Byakuya let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, as he picked up the books and inspected them slowly. Sure enough, the stories were the same ones he had indulged himself in just a few weeks before. The same contents, title, cover, and pages.
He continued removing several books before taking note of the next item he had recognized to be his own.
Byakuya removed a neatly folded blazer from the box. It was clean. He couldn’t help but smile to himself; He had a clean set of clothes that didn’t make him look close to homeless. It may be the apocalypse, but the Togami’s had standards, damn it!
Also gathered in the box was a small notebook, a variety of extension cords which definitely did NOT weigh his chest with guilt for any particular reason, unread love confessions from none other than Toko Fukawa (ew), one seemingly written in a substance that looked suspiciously like blood (maybe it was red ink? Might be wishful thinking- also, ew). The bottom of the box was now visible, with only a few smaller items scattered throughout…
…and then he froze
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Embarrassing Secrets! That’s right! Contained inside these envelopes are loads of your personal information just waiting to be spilled!”
The room filled with tension, fear, and general confusion as the second motive of the high school killing game was presented before the remaining twelve students.
“That doesn’t even make any sense, you don’t know anything about us” Asahina had practically mocked, instigating only the sound of wicked laughter from the bear.
As they were each presented with a personalized letter from the “headmaster” himself, Togami couldn’t help but scoff at the thought. This was probably the worst idea yet. Sure, there were a variety of students that lacked general wits, but none incompatible enough to commit an act of murder over whatever silly personal matters were at risk of being publicized.
What is your plan here Monokuma? Exactly how petty do you think we would have to be to allow this as instigation?
And as Byakuya accepted the envelope he began to think to himself how much of a let down these next few days were actually going to be. It was truly a shame; somebody who had access to such resources to scheme such an elaborate game, unable to compose the wits to find a productive motive. A part of him wanted to laugh.
Besides, there was the obvious fact that Monokuma was using empty threats. From a young age, a Togami is raised to have no imperfections. He had fought his way to the top of his family name, because of the person he was. He had worked hard for the position he had acquired, and only managed to make it this far because Byakuya simply did not have any faults. He was quite literally, the perfect being; an icon of what the Togami corporation and all that it stood for, shall strive to be.
He remembers the gasps that had rung out amongst the group as they unveiled their own letters in horror. He quickly took in the expressions of his fellow classmates as they looked at the contents of the envelope in disbelief, some seeming frightful, others purely mortified, some just plain angry.
Truly, that should have been his first sign that perhaps this motive went deeper than he’d originally anticipated.
Byakuya opened the folded sheet of paper that lay in his hands.
Doubtfully, he scanned the note in his grasp, and took in the contents.
The room seemed to grow cold.
The room that was now an abyss that left Byakuya stranded in the dark. Despite the image of a void that clouded from his thoughts, he felt eyes. He felt as if he was being watched. He felt as if whatever fed its concentration to his being bore straight through him.
And he thought to himself, perhaps, maybe a motive shallow as this one may just be enough to provoke the killing game to continuation.
Well played, Monokuma. Well played.
~~~~~~~~~~
In truth, there was another emotion Byakuya had grown accustomed to, and that was vulnerability.
From stern terms inflicted upon himself from when he was young, he recognized vulnerability itself to be an emotion that no Togami was to display. It was not up for debate that weakness fed ammunition to the enemy. Togami’s couldn’t afford something like that.
Yet, here he sat, hands trembling slightly, as he opened the envelope once more as he had just a few weeks prior, and removed the scrap paper inside of it, crumpled, as if it were angrily balled up in his fists and thrown against a wall on multiple occasions. Byakuya looked down at the paper’s contents. Only one single despair induced sentence was printed onto the letter.
“Togami, Byakuya is gay.”
Which in itself may have not been so utterly terrifying had it not been Byakuya Togami. Byakuya Togami, heir of the Togami lineage, the progeny himself. The ever so powerful Byakuya Togami; the picture-perfect cookie cutter mold of what a Togami should strive to be…
And if someone… if anyone had found out…
Byakuya held the sheet in his hands with caution, as if it would potentially explode. Obviously, what was written on the piece of scratch was untrue. There was simply no evidence to support such a heinous claim. As to why such a simple phrase had rendered itself to be so upsetting, he couldn’t provide an answer.
Togami hastily placed (more like threw) the contents of the box carefully back inside where he had found them, with the exception of the paper. As to what he would do with it, he was unsure. As much as he simply wanted to throw it out, there was always the risk that someone would find it. Surely, he could just tear the paper shreds, but the thought of that also gave him a sickening feeling. It was as if he couldn’t quite figure out what to do with the paper. It was like the paper itself had something over him, like the nonsentient letter was mocking him in a way that he had allowed to get under his skin.
Which was weird. Obviously, it was weird, because nothing on that paper was true.
Monokuma was lying. He wasn’t- He couldn’t possibly be-
You’re wrong Monokuma. You have to be.
Byakuya forced himself back into his cot, switching off the light once more. He sighed in a futile attempt of releasing all of his worries from his mind. When that didn’t work, he switched to a cold, empty, quite chuckle to himself. If one was to overhear it, they might mistake it for a sad laugh. That isn’t what this was. This was simply a word he could not place his finger on just yet. All he was sure of was that he felt defeated, powerless, exhausted, and worst of all, vulnerable.
Perhaps vulnerability was his despair, sinking him farther and farther away from the person he had strived to become.
Even after so long of the feeling, he lay still unsure of how to move forward. “How does one combat this despair?”
….
Allowing himself only briefly to hang on to fragments of memories to combat his thoughts, Byakuya slowly felt himself beginning to drift off, thinking only of the only thing his brain had desperately clung to as a method of providing reassurance and safety.
He slowly dozed to sleep thinking only of soft brown hair, and shards of dark green.
He wondered if Makoto’s lips were as soft as they looked.