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The library was so cool the hair on Byakuya’s arms stood on end. The lights were so dim he had to squint just slightly to read. It was silent except for the faint hum of the lamp and the quiet flip-flip of pages turning. Byakuya peered at the boy next to him. He was reading a manga. Some stupid love story about a girl and a bomb that made absolutely no sense. Makoto was clearly very focused. His pretty eyes were wide and unblinking as they scanned the page, irises flicking left-right-left-right-left-
It would be very easy to escape this place. The boy next to him was, frankly, an idiot, so focused on something so meaningless with a potential killer right beside him. How easy it would be to wrap his hands around the other boy’s neck and squeeze soft, weak flesh until the light completely drained from those blindingly bright eyes. He would like to frame Toko, he thinks. That would surely be easy. Even if the bumbling fool didn’t go along with him blindly in some strange attempt to ‘save her master’, she rarely spent time with anyone but him, so she certainly wouldn’t have an alibi.
Though, perhaps that would be too easy a win for him. Maybe he should frame Kirigiri. Sure, whoever he framed ultimately wouldn’t matter much, since everyone would be punished regardless, but she had been quite the thorn in his side as of late and he would like to push her to her limits before she met her end.
“Byakuya?” The blond snapped back to attention. Makoto was looking at him. “You’re staring. What’re you thinking about?”
Byakuya averted his gaze. “Nothing that has anything to do with you. I’m trying to read, Naegi.”
Neither of them mentioned that the taller boy had set his book down on the table.
“...I know you aren’t gonna kill me.”
What? Byakuya turned back to him, eyes narrowed in confusion. “What are you-”
“I’m a physic, y’know?” Makoto giggled as if he had said something funny. “Just kidding. You just.. Get this look in your eyes, sometimes. Like you’re thinking about it.”
“I was thinking no such thing.” Byakuya huffed. “But I could kill you, if I wanted to. It would be so easy. I have no sentimental feelings towards any one of you. I’m only waiting for the correct moment.”
“Mmm, yeah, whatever.” Makoto looked back down at the manga in his hands. “We could be stuck here for the rest of our lives. I know you aren’t gonna do it.” He turned the page.
The taller boy scowled. His shoulders were tense as he gripped at the edge of the table. “I- hmph.” The nerve of that boy, acting like he knew anything about him. “You sound so certain, Naegi. Do you really believe that you know me?” He reached out a steady hand, a cruel smile on his face. “I could kill you right now. Maybe I will,” he sneered. “I can’t wait to see everyone’s face the moment they see your body, lifeless and mutilated by my own hand. I’ll make them all turn on each other. I think I’ll frame Fukawa. No one will suspect it was me. You have yet to see a true genius play this game.” He placed his hand around the boy’s neck and applied some pressure, not enough to do any damage, not yet. Just something to scare him. He wanted to see what kind of face the boy would make as he stole the air from his lungs.
To his disdain, Makoto looked relatively unphased. Was he leaning into the touch…?
“You’ve really got a way with words, you know?” His voice was slightly strained from the hand at his neck, but bright nonetheless. Ugh. “Maybe you ought to try your hand at being an author. Heh, try your hand.” He brought his own hand up and placed it on top of Byakuya’s, but made no move to pull it away. “That’s probably a better use of all that Togami knowledge you’ve got, than, you know, threatening people.”
Byakuya made a move to pull his hand away. Makoto held him in place, and he didn’t try to resist any further, only loosened his grip. “I can do it. I’m going to do it. Just so you know. When the time is right. I don’t even know where Fukawa is right now. How foolish do you think I am, to kill someone when I don’t even know whether the person I plan to frame has an alibi or not?” he glared down at Makoto with a smug grin.
“Mmm, maybe you could. But you won’t. We’re gonna get out of here. All of us.” The determined fire in Makoto’s eyes was rather impressive for someone with a hand primed for strangling wrapped around his throat.
Somehow, when Makoto said it, he believed it. Hm. It disgusted him how a common boy like Makoto had such an influence on him.
Strands of soft brown hair tickled his hand. He squeezed his throat gently. It wasn’t quite so threatening this time. Byakuya would never use the word caring, but, well.
“Whatever. If you would release me,” a pointed glance at the smaller boy’s hand. “I was trying to read.”
“You’re the one who started it,” Makoto grumbled, letting go of his hand. Several moments passed before Byakuya dropped his hand and let it rest on his book. Makoto yawned. The library was unnaturally warm.
The two settled back into a maybe somewhat comfortable silence as they started reading once again. Fine. Maybe Byakuya wouldn’t end up killing any of his classmates. Maybe he would try to escape. But if so, that was entirely due to his hatred of the mastermind, and nothing to do with his feelings toward Makoto, or any of the others. Not that there were even any feelings to talk about. He didn’t even think about the brunette, really. Not at all.
If he continued to look back to the feeling of his hands on the other boy’s throat, the unfaltering light of trust in his eyes as he squeezed… That probably wasn’t anything worth giving too much thought to.