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“Gooood morning, sweet prince!”
My weary eyes shot open from that recognizably despicable voice, mocking me. The silhouette of a certain loathsome monstrosity filled my adjusting vision, fixating on me with his permanently foul grin.
Witnessing that loathsome face was enough for me to leap out of bed. I glared down at the lowly creature, my entire body on the defensive.
“Your room is niiice—it really puts everybody else's rooms to shame! Being here makes me feel like I'm a guest in royalty. I feel so honored, so honored that it's making me blush.” That disgustingly pseudo-chipper voice Monokuma put on every time he spoke angered me to my very core. I desired nothing more than to kick him against the wall until he severely malfunctioned—for good.
“Get. Out.”
“How rude,” the bear pathetically whined, his head hanging low. “I know you're higher up than the rest of us worthless commoners, but that doesn't give you the right to treat your guests so cruelly.”
“You have intruded!” I retorted.
“O-kay, you got me. Sheesh! But I still think you should treat your headmaster with more respect! Especially since I am going out of my way to explain the Love Key to you.”
“Love Key…?” What a ridiculous name for an object. However… “Hold on, how did you—?”
“Jeez, for a Togami heir apparent, you're being pretty dang stupid.” How dare he! “Did you already forget about my wonderfully useful surveillance cameras? I saw that cutie-patootie Makoto giving you the key as a present. What a strange gift to give to someone. Ooh! Maybe this is his invitation for a booty call! Who knew somebody as puny and pure as him would be into that kind of thing. Oh well, guess you can't judge a book by its cover—gap moe at its finest!”
He was clearly rambling on about whatever nonsense he pleased, and I refused to humor him. “If you have nothing of use to say, then leave this instant.”
The nuisance threw his pathetically stubby arms in the air and growled, “I was just about to tell you how to use this very special item! You gotta learn some patience, dammit!”
Despite my clear disinterest, he explained the questionable item to me in excruciating detail, expressing that there was a very “special” place where I could—as he put it—unleash my “suppressed teenage hormonal urges.” Customary for someone like him, he didn't falter in making unnecessary, vulgar remarks along the way.
‘What sort of sick joke is this?! Why would I ever subject myself to such perverted foolishness?’
“Oooh, how exciting! Judging by your silence, you're probably conceptualizing all of the possible steamy escapades you could get yourself into!” Monokuma said tauntingly. “Now then, please read the instructions.”
A notification sound emanated from my e-handbook laying uselessly on the nightstand. With much reluctance, I retrieved it and read what was instilled…
It's time for The Talk.
The Love Key Talk.
This is the key that is used to unlock the Love Suite.
When night falls, you and one other person will be invited to the Love Suite.
There you will be part of that person's fantasy.
They will see you as their “ideal,” and basically just swoon all over you.
Think of it as a kind of dream that lets you escape this cruel, dark reality.
That's why it's important to play the role that person wants you to.
If you do something that breaks character, the other person will wake up in anguish.
And what happens there, stays there. Memories are wiped when you exit.
It's like a one-night stand within a dream. Probably best that you both forget it.
Well then, that's it!
Stay safe! Enjoy!
Inspecting those so-called “rules” provided me with a strong urge to thoroughly cleanse my eyes from the filth they were subjected to.
“Oh? You seem skeptical,” I heard the menace say. “Why don't you try it out for yourself, then? Go ahead, take that Love Key out for a spin!”
At this juncture, any further conversation with him seemed futile. My only recourse was to scowl at him fiercely with my teeth clenched, my stance unwavering.
“Now then, let love take hold of you!” he encouraged. “It'll make you sweeter than a bear's honey pot!”
With that, he finally exited my presence.
My initial and most logical instinct was to toss the ridiculous key away and simply ignore him… However, the key remained in my clasped grasp as I stood there in contemplative silence.
He did not mention any form of punishment if I failed to participate in said scandalous act; therefore, I had no obligation to take part.
For clarity's sake, I reexamined the “rules.” One section in particular piqued my interest: ‘When night falls, you and one other person will be invited to the Love Suite.’
‘Who exactly would this other person be? Logic dictates that it would be one of the few current survivors of this little game of ours.’
A bitter intense shudder coursed through my body head-to-toe from the very concept. I would not be caught dead subjecting myself to being intimate with any of the livestock here, going about their boring, worthless lives just waiting to be killed. Quite frankly, I would rather end my own life rather than possibly partake in that repulsive Fukawa and her alter personality's psychotic fantasies.
Love and intercourse are already such tired, pointless concepts in the first place. They are simply a waste of time. Intercourse is only useful for bringing more people into existence—for better or for worse depending on their status in this world. Other than that, it is a pointless act of a lowlife not having enough self-control and to briefly and repeatedly satisfy their urges, which was clearly what Monokuma was referring to. As for the concept of “true love,” it exists nowhere but the works of fictional fantasies. Most importantly, absolutely nobody in this world could possibly be considered suitable for someone like me.
I scrutinized the tacky key still clutched in my fist.
‘Why *did* Makoto present me with something like *this* as a gift? Most importantly: why did I accept it? Surely it must have been out of pity. What sort of fantasies would somebody as dull as *him* conjure up? Hmph, knowing him, I am sure it would be something incredibly generic and utterly boring. I wonder…’
Against my own volition, my curiosity got the upper hand as I unclenched my fist to scrutinize the item more thoroughly.
‘This could very well be a trap, and I should not indulge in that fiendish bear's antics, even if this is all just a dream, as he claims… but I should, at the very least, go visit this mysterious new location and gain as much additional information as I can. There is no harm in gaining more knowledge and information, especially in this game of life-or-death. Besides, just because I have the key in my possession and enter does not mean I have to participate. The consequence for not playing along is a simple guilt trip; I couldn't care less about that.’
With my determination solidified and my curiosity fully piqued, I secured the key in my grasp and escorted myself out of my assigned dorm room.
XXX
From the way this mysterious place was described, there was no doubt in my mind that it would be a setting oozing with poor taste, and my theories were realized the moment I stepped foot inside. The room was attempting so desperately to replicate an erotic, passionate getaway for desperately sex-craved tramps. With the room oozing with lustrous red, and the wide selection of masochistic objects hanging up on display all around the walls, this incredibly distasteful and sickening atmosphere suited the likes of a certain serial killer to a tee. A deep revulsion permeated every fiber of my being by just standing there.
Disrupting my thoughts, I heard the door to the suite slide open. I was expecting to hear a maniacal cackle accompanied by the brandishing of razor-sharp scissors, and I was on the verge of making my escape, but instead…
Makoto…?
Yes, there was no mistake; the person standing before me in front of the rather gaudy bed was none other than that painfully ordinary, worthless simpleton. Just seeing him idle there with his usual doe eyes focused on me was enough for me to feel sick to my stomach, and my heart pound at such an unsettlingly alarming rate—how annoying.
‘Tsk, I am already well aware that this entire scenario is some pathetic and elaborate joke that despicable bear has orchestrated, but this is on a completely different, ridiculous level. For someone like *him* to be here. Then again, I suppose whoever would be standing before me, it would remain a no-win situation no matter what.’
The short-statured boy grinned at me, bringing back the sickening fluttering sensation in my chest and stomach once more.
“Hey! How was your day?”
I swore I was going to hurl just from that greeting alone. So ordinary, so dull. Then again, that was to be expected of somebody like him. Sure, he may have impressed me more than once during our time trapped in this school, but those moments were so far in between.
‘I have no interest in him. Yes, that's right. No interest whatsoever.’
Makoto's expression contorted into a disconcerting smile as he scratched his cheek. “Umm, judging by how quiet you are and the way you're looking at me, I'm guessing you must have had a pretty rough day, huh?”
I decided to get straight to the point and refused to waste any more of my time. “Are you referring to my expression of disgust? I am speaking to the likes of you and participating in such a ridiculous illusion constructed by that nuisance.”
“Illusion?”
He appeared to be genuinely confused. He truly was committed to this act, I will give him that, I suppose…
“Whatever might have happened today, do you want to talk about it?” He asked.
“Why should I? What good could that possibly do?”
In a momentary shift, a profound gravity and sadness overtook his demeanor. “Look, I get that you probably had a bad day and all that, and you most likely want to be alone, but—”
“—I am simply telling the truth,” I stated impatiently. “If you cannot handle that, then feel free to continue your pathetic delusions by yourself, and leave me out of it.”
“There's a difference between being honest and being kind of a jerk, Byakuya. If you're going to act like this, then maybe we should just give each other some space and not talk for a while…”
The way he was speaking—despite not raising the volume of his voice—the fire in his eyes, the conviction; it was how he presented himself during the trials.
Frustratingly enough, I found myself lacking the ability to properly articulate, yet the reason eluded me.
“I'll leave you alone for now,” Makoto uttered, refraining from meeting my gaze. His mood was already a contrast from earlier when he was smiling and appeared more confident based on his posture. Now his shoulders were slumped and his expression defeated. “I'll let you calm down for a bit.”
If he leaves, the illusion will be broken, and he will wake up in anguish. I'd rather not deal with the guilt and his excessive snivelling whenever I am forced to see him again…
“Stop,” I commanded.
Makoto glanced over at me curiously with a stupidly endearing expression.
“I am having a dismal evening. Perhaps I have projected too much onto you. This isn't your doing after all.” Forcing out that apology was even more challenging than I thought. I couldn't even bring myself to look at him as I spoke. Then again, I had developed a habit of avoiding direct eye contact with individuals like him as often as I could.
To my bewilderment, Makoto chuckled softly. “We've been married for a year now, so luckily I know that this is your way of apologizing.”
In an instant, my eyes widened in astonishment, and my breath hitched in my throat. Married?! P-Preposterous!
In a blink of an eye, Makoto's vexingly carefree self resurfaced, as though the previous moment had never occured. “Want to take a hot bath together to relax?”
Just when I foolishly believed that my body couldn't become any more skittish. “Excuse me??”
“What? You love taking baths together. Man, work must have really taken a toll on you today,” Makoto gawked. “Well, instead of that, why don't you sit down and I'll get you something warm to drink.”
That request brought me back to my usual self, and my body was finally starting to repose itself yet again. My arms folded together and I smirked. “Hmph, how generous of you to offer. I expect you know exactly what I prefer?”
Unbeknownst to me in that very moment, the illusion began to take hold of me, and I unwittingly embraced its reality.
“Of course!” Makoto piped. “You can sit down and I'll bring it.”
Out of all objects to be absent from this room, there were no chairs. Begrudgingly, I took a seat on the edge of the round, gaudy bed situated in the center of the room. Given my limited options, I'd rather that than be seated on the ground like some filthy vagabond.
Makoto guided himself over to a table standing across the room from where I was seated. I silently observed him performing the task; however, he was working so expeditiously that it proved difficult to catch sight of what exactly he was gathering for the beverage. Thinking of sustenance and unknown ingredients brought me to the reality of where I was: in a game of life-or-death. With that in mind, he could be sneaking in some poisonous chemicals for all I know. The chances of somebody as soft-hearted as Makoto being capable of such deceitful acts and behavior were admittedly quite slim, but his seemingly friendly and outrageously normal nature could very well be a front; trusting anybody so blindly would forever remain an unwise and dangerous decision.
As the smell of whatever he was about to brew wafted through my nostrils, I recognized the floral and enveloping fragrance of rosehip tea. While a serving of first-rate coffee was my preferred choice for a warm beverage, rosehip was one of the more decent flavors of tea if brewed correctly, and it did offer relaxation, which was precisely what I was in crucial need of.
Makoto poured a modest helping of boiling water from the ready kettle into one of the antique western-themed teacups prepared on the table. He cautiously placed the teacup on a saucer and set it on a nearby cart. After rolling the cart over in my direction, he began stirring the cup, amplifying its fragrant, soothing smell. I was ready to instruct him on precisely how many times he should stir, but somehow he stirred just the adequate amount without even needing to be instructed. I suppose his extraordinary, albeit questionable, amount of luck was to credit for that.
Before allowing myself to get too comfortable…
“You take the first sip,” I ordered.
“Huh? Why?”
“Don't make me repeat myself.”
If he refused to do what I ordered him to do, then I have no reason to accept. His refusal would simply prove that he discreetly slipped in something lethal during the brewing process.
“Come on, Byakuya. You know I remember just how you like it. You don't have to use me as your personal taste tester for that.”
‘Hmm, was it not his luck to credit for the accurate amount of stirring after all? He simply knows and recalls my preferences? He's certainly conscientious—in an unbelievably irritating sort of way, of course.’
“Well?” I said expectantly, raising an eyebrow.
It finally seemed to dawn on him that it would be pointless to argue against me any further. “Umm, it's too hot to drink right now.”
“Surely even you know you can simply blow on the steam? It's simple. You pucker your lips and blow through your mouth.”
“No need to be condescending,” Makoto said disapprovingly. Like a fool, he disregarded caution and reached for the cup barehanded.
“What the hell do you think you're doing?”
“Huh?”
“Are you trying to burn yourself? Lift it by the handle!”
“Oh, right.” He chuckled sheepishly.
“Imbecile.”
In my peripheral vision, I spotted him smirking insufferably, and he finally corrected himself. After blowing away a small amount of steam, he took a sip, and he showed no early symptoms of poisoning or any other ailments.
Fortunately, he wiped the area where his lips touched the rim with a cloth before I could take the next sip. I couldn't be more grateful that my own lips did not have to come into contact with his own imprint. Doing so would not only infect me with the most vile of germs, but I would have the slightest hint of the taste in my mouth.
‘What would his mouth even taste like? Something disgustingly unpleasant I am sure, what with all the filth commoners like him just love to shove into their mouths. Yes, something unpleasant I am sure…’
Makoto cocked his head to the side, regarding me with a curious expression akin to that of a clueless canine. It was at that moment that I noticed I was so preoccupied with my own thoughts that I hadn't even tasted the tea myself.
I took a deep whiff of the fragrance, lightly blew against the steam, and ultimately sampled it.
As my exceptional taste buds welcomed the taste, unintentionally, a soft hum of satisfaction escaped my lips. Hearing that seemed to satisfy Makoto, what a strange boy.
After I acquired another taste, I nearly dropped what I was holding upon feeling the other's small but firm hands applying pressure to my shoulder blades. Every nerve and muscle in my body tensed up. So much for that brief moment of tranquility.
“What do you think you're doing?” I demanded.
“Giving you a massage,” the nuisance answered casually. “You're really tense.”
“Did I give you permission to do that?”
He stopped his ministrations. “Well, if you want me to stop—”
“I didn't tell you to stop .”
Makoto insufferably smirked once more and resumed his efforts.
‘His actions paled in comparison to those of my personal masseuse, but I suppose it is… *acceptable.* Dealing with the likes of Monokuma and his childish game was exhausting and strenuous to deal with, so I suppose this is something that would benefit me.’
“Can you remove your overcoat for me?” He requested.
“For what purpose?”
“So you can feel it more, obviously.”
That playful smugness of his truly was irritating, but there was no use arguing with him. What he said was technically correct after all.
I reluctantly obeyed his request and withdrew my first-class blazer, revealing my white button-down dress shirt. Just for extra measure concerning my own personal enjoyment, I unbuttoned the very top of my shirt at the collar, allowing that area of skin to breathe.
Makoto got back to work before I could order him to, and he was proven correct in assuming that I would feel it better. It felt quite… pleasant. It would seem I truly needed some relief after all.
“Does that feel good?” He asked.
“Obviously I would have informed you by this point if I felt otherwise.”
“Heh, good.”
To my utter bewilderment, he rested his chin on my shoulder as he continued to rub my taut muscles—I could feel his warm breath against the nape of my neck.
This feeling—what was this awful feeling?
Only amplifying the horror I was already experiencing, my exposed neck picked up on the feeling of warm, tender lips gently but briefly pressing against it. My body went rigid, every fiber of my being locked in a state of immobility.
He chuckled. “You're tensing up again. Relax.”
His voice was oddly soothing, and thankfully he removed his lips away from my exposed flesh, so I could properly focus more on the ministrations.
The treatment persisted for a little while longer, until my heart nearly leaped from my chest when I felt one of his hands go up and under my shirt, making contact with the bare skin underneath.
"T-That's enough!"
‘Did I just *stutter*? No, surely not…’
That command of mine seemed to take him aback. Remembering where I was and the consequences behind it all, I sighed and begrudgingly corrected myself. “That is enough for now. Let us just focus on something else for the time being.”
That seemed to improve his mood rather quickly. “Sure. I understand. But at least lay down or something.”
Despite seeming to be in a better mood compared to mere moments ago, there was an unmistakable seriousness in his voice and the way he looked at me. Was he truly so desperate for me to laze about? What could he possibly gain from this? We are still pawns in Monokuma's little game, Makoto could intend for me to drop my guard so he could have more of an advantage to murder me, or simply render me unconscious. However, the expression on his face seemed sincere and unwavering.
‘Fine, I will indulge, but if he thinks that he can get somebody like *me* to drop my guard, he has another thing coming.’
I properly removed my footwear and laid down against the bed, making sure to keep an eye on him the whole time as I did so. He clicked a button on some kind of remote, and it seemed to activate a TV across the room from us. I didn't even pay the device any mind until now—naturally, it was far inferior in size compared to the many installed in the Togami household.
The second the television powered on, I recoiled from the sound of collective artificial laughter forcefully evading my eardrums.
“Why exactly are you subjecting me to this?”
Makoto flashed a playful, mischievous expression. “You complain, but that never seems to stop you from laying here with me while I watch it.”
‘Just when I thought this delusion couldn't possibly get any more ridiculous. There is no inconceivable way I would often subject myself to just lazing about in a bed watching such pathetically meaningless schlock.’
He settled into bed beside me and nuzzled his head against my shoulder. My body flinched again—I honestly should have been used to that reaction by this point.
“Oh, come on. Don't tell me you're not in the mood for cuddling, too.”
‘Of course I'm not, you imbecile!’ is what I naturally felt obligated to say, but I found myself unable to when those hopelessly guileless eyes peered into mine. At that moment they were large and saddened. That hopeless display was the equivalent of a canine pathetically begging for a treat. It was so frustrating… but I felt only the slightest bit of remorse.
“Fine, but only because you insisted.”
He smiled. “Well, I don't want you to feel like you have to, obviously.”
So considerate—annoying, as always. I will never understand someone like him.
“Man, you can sure be difficult,” Makoto huffed.
Once again—just as before— the fact that this entire scenario was merely a facade had somehow slipped my mind.
“If I am ‘oh-so-difficult,’ as you claim, why must you pester me into being in your company?” I asked.
“Because I love you, Byakuya. Jeez.”
Of all the nonsense I expected him to spew, that was certainly not it. Those words were entirely foreign to me, but that is simply because they had no place in my world.
‘Ugh, my heart rate refuses to settle. Did he slip something into my tea after all? Surely he must have tricked me somehow by only *pretending* he took a sip…’
“You have your moments where you can be pretty difficult to deal with, especially when you have your bad days,” Makoto elaborated, “but I knew what I was getting into when marrying you. Everyone has their flaws, but we're a team. We work through our bad moments together, and we accept each other, flaws and all.”
Such a strange, naive boy. Does he truly believe such a concept truly exists? It's every man for himself in this world. True love simply does not exist outside of pure fantasy. Besides, ‘flaws,’ as he calls them…
“Such ignorance. I have no flaws—I am perfect in every way.”
Makoto rolled his eyes, but showed little sign of being genuinely upset or surprised. Of course a good-for-nothing simpleton like him wouldn't believe me, nor understand.
We focused on the screen, and with each passing second, it felt increasingly as though I might develop an aneurysm just from watching it. The artificial laughter practically begged anyone subjecting themselves to this to follow suit—typical commoner behavior. Just as expected of the most common of commoners, Makoto would occasionally laugh as well. While not as obnoxious as the laughter emanating from the screen, it was still pitiable.
I occasionally cast a sidelong glance over at him, observing his frequent grin as his eyes were practically glued to the screen. Every characteristic of his was soft, and unbearably carefree. Even his occasional bouts of laughter were soft.
The fascination of observing him had a mysterious hold on me, and much like his very existence, it was infuriating to comprehend.
At some point, he returned my gaze with that same vexing grin. I averted my eyes, but he persisted, staring at me with the same expectant expression. I could sense his unwavering gaze from the corner of my eye. Gradually, he leaned his head towards me, resting it on my shoulder. In response, my head instinctively tilted ever so slightly to meet his.
Just as I finally noticed my mistake and was about to retreat, I heard him utter a satisfied, lingering sigh.
“I've been waiting for this all day. Was a long day for me, too. I missed you.” He said.
He rested one of his hands against my chest and nudged his face further into the crook of my neck.
The thumping of my heart was so powerful that it resonated in my eardrums—this feeling, it was detestable. Detestable and nauseating, all at the same time. Not being able to have control of my own self, was absurd; clearly this place held much more power over someone than I had initially thought.
‘Fortunately, I have never lived a normal, meaningless commoner life, but I can only imagine that this is a glimpse into what it would be like. Yet, because I have never experienced it for myself, I am slightly intrigued. What is it truly like to live such a normal life? What is it like to have no expectations or ambitions? No! What am I thinking?! I must be going mad. Captivity in this place has finally gotten to me —there is no other explanation.’
“Hey, want to know what else can relieve stress?” Makoto inquired playfully.
I sighed. “I suppose.”
As an alternative for answering, his piercing stare locked with mine as I felt one of his fingers delicately trace along my form. It started from my collarbone, down to my chest, down to my stomach, down to my…
“Gh—!”
My body and mind went numb. I was rendered utterly useless for speaking or taking action.
“This just so happens to be something else I've thought about all day.” There was an undeniable seductive firmness in the way he presented him at that moment, radiating even through his touch.
The words of reprimand were on the top of my tongue, ready to chew him out mercilessly, to escape the scene, to leave this distasteful illusion behind… and yet…
“Hmmm, somebody's getting excited.” He grinned slyly.
Before I could summon the energy to object, he loomed over me with that sly but playful smirk, his hands pressed into the sheets on both sides of my body.
‘Somebody being in control of *me*? Impossible! I—’
“Just relax, and let me take care of you.”
His voice, his eye contact—every trait of his was gentle yet sultry and rather… assertive. To my absolute horror, I found myself struck silent by the unexplainable power he had over me at that moment.
‘I am Byakuya Togami, perfect in every way intellectually and athletically. I have fought in battle after battle and came out victorious to reach where I am today, and it is expected of me to achieve victory after victory. None of those feats would have even been possible if I had such little control and such a weak mind. That is why, despite my body clearly having urges like any living being on Earth, I will not give in. I *will* leave this place, I *will* remind this commoner who is *truly* in charge, I *will*…’
Makoto remained lingering over me, his eyes still locked on to mine, just as patient, just as resolute, just as aggravating, just as… Makoto Naegi.
Just like that—against my better judgment—I succumbed…
……....
*Ding dong, bing bong*
My eyes wearily fluttered open, and my mind felt hazy, leaving me particularly confused about where I was at that very moment.
“Good morning, everyone!”
Hearing the irritating, shrill voice of Monokuma originating from the monitor promptly brought me back to reality.
Following the customary imbecilic morning announcement, I released an exasperated groan and weary sigh as I reluctantly dragged myself upright in bed and reached for one of my many pairs of custom-made glasses.
‘What happened between Makoto and me… Was that all just the preposterous inner workings of my subconscious? I could still see the blazing look in his eyes...’
‘I should get rid of that questionable key immediately. Clearly after acquiring it, it has severely messed with my subconscious.’
The moment I set off for the task at hand, I felt a damp, disgusting sensation between my legs.
‘What is *this*?!’
Despite my questioning, I knew precisely what it was. It is quite common for filthy lowlives to experience something like this when aroused and lack control in their sleep, so why was it happening to someone like me?! That key—it must have had profound control over my body. I should have known better than to trust anything made by the hands of Monokuma, or more accurately, whoever is controlling him.
While doing my laundry here is less than ideal, it would seem that I would have to endure it.
First, I saw to it that I cleanse myself of my own filth in the currently active shower room of my dorm. When I returned, I went to dispose of the accursed key. My hand hovered over the waste receptacle for minutes, the vague, hazy memories of last night coming back to me in fragmented recollections.
…..
‘I suppose I will hold on to it for now—strictly for research purposes, of course. Besides, that pestering Makoto gave this to me, and I don't feel like dealing with the guilt trip.’