Work Text:
It had only been one singular, cold, restless night since Celestia had been executed on the count of Hifumi’s murder and Kiyotaka’s controlled, indirect murder. Makoto was taking this hard on his shoulders, having been the one to take the reins in all three trials so far and inevitably the one that saved them all from uncertain doom. It was always, ‘tell them, Makoto.’ It was always, ‘well, Makoto? What do you think?’ It was never, ‘I have something useful to add! We’re all 17 years old; we can do one thing right without Makoto’s guidance for once, right, Byakuya?!’
That last part was ripped straight from the Lucky Student’s very own imagination. Yes, at times, it was hard to say that Byakuya was completely useless, because in truth, he occasionally had valid points to make and useful statements or opinions to add. Occasionally. It seemed as if his real objective was to make everything that much harder for everyone else.
But Makoto never stopped trying to find the good within him. When the students had free time within the school, he found himself circling back to Byakuya most times. There were some times he spent with Kyoko, others with Aoi, Sayaka, Chihiro, but.. With all the company they could offer, he was most interested in Byakuya. His mannerisms, his appearance, the tone he took with some but not others, his interest in books, what books he liked, what genre of books he liked, his family backstory, his siblings, his rise to fame… It was all so new to Makoto.
Rest assured, Makoto was… a new experience to Byakuya. He had never met someone so aggressively average, but determined to see above the rest and find his own, natural, paved way through life. Byakuya found himself interested in Makoto too. He swore it was because he had never felt more sorry for someone more pathetic in his life. He swore that, but perhaps he could have crossed his fingers behind his back in the depths of his mind. Nevertheless, he restricted his piqued interests in the small boy, fearing that his upbeat, determined and smotheringly kind attitude may cloud his judgement and put a block in the road for him. He was partaking in a game to either be won or lost, not make-do with tied second place to someone who would amount to so much… less than him.
…
On this day, the day after Celestia’s execution, Makoto had to pull himself out of bed with the grace of God. It was a hard enough task from the get-go, but with the constant slaughter of his previously known “friends,” it was becoming so challenging he was even beginning to lose himself.
The remaining group had already eaten, met up, conducted their search on the new fourth floor, and spread their separate ways. Makoto drifted downstairs to the second floor to enter the Library, picking out some obscure book Byakuya had recommended to an “idiotic cotton-brained commoner” like himself, apparently. Even though Byakuya frequented the Library less with the new floors opening, he was still seen there mostly on the daily, and Makoto considered himself too much of a pushover to set foot in the lion’s den longer than he had to. It was Byakuya’s territory as far as he was concerned.
Makoto now sat alone by a table in the corner of the dining hall, alone. He was slumped to the side and hunched over his book that he had taken from the Library. It wasn’t as if Monokuma cared enough to loan them or anything, or restrict people from taking them out of the room. Makoto presumed it was alright. An unpunishable crime.
His head hung low, he trained his weary eyes on the sentence at the top of chapter two. They drifted down the page, but he quickly wrestled them back into place as best as he could to try and prove he was spending his time fulfillingly and usefully, and not just wallowing over the empty regrets that were his friend’s deaths and stolen lives.
“This book.. is awful.” He mumbled to himself. He groaned and blinked, washing the layer of fatigue away from his eyes again.
“Then why are you still reading it?” A familiar voice scoffed behind him, causing Makoto to jump in his seat and choke on his own breath. Goosebumps slowly lined every inch of his bright, pale skin. “A pointless sentiment, if you ask me. Why spend your time doing something if it won’t bring you fame, wealth, success or validation? Or, I suppose in dire circumstances, joy?”
There was no doubt who it was. Makoto looked up, his chair eerily screeching against the ground as he hopped to turn and face the slender figure leaning up against a table nearest to his own.
“I.. couldn’t find anything else to do, but I wanted to be alone. I thought reading would help me clear my thoughts and start fresh, but…”
It’s not out of sympathy, empathy or any sort of compassion for the boy. No, it was pity for the poor soul. Byakuya’s eyes nearly burned out of his skull when he looked at Makoto, dishevelled and slatternly, who appeared to have come to his last string keeping him holding on.
“But it didn’t. I see… It’s interesting. The way you behave, chasing after something, when you’re not certain it’ll result in the outcome you desire.. And you’re still disappointed when it ends badly.” Byakuya adorned his own face with a smile that screamed ‘superiority complex.’
Makoto smiled at his attitude. Byakuya thought this was disgusting. Disgustingly interesting, much like before.
He expressed his confusion. “Your face.. How come you’re acting so optimistic and smiling at a comment like that?” The sentence sounds like it was intended with pure curiosity, but when Byakuya uttered it, it was laced with malice and hate. Cold and calloused.
“You’ve been stuck here for so long, but you’re… rarely..” Makoto yawned. “You’re rarely affected by changes in people, environment or schedule. It’s…” Makoto yawned again. “It’s good to see someone isn’t changing because of our circumstances. It’s reassuring.”
Byakuya’s face twisted into something horrified and was taken aback further than 2000 BC. He hated being involved with something that brought others happiness, but.. it wasn’t as severe with Makoto. It was like, he could be okay with it, but only if for Makoto’s sake. Dreadful.
Makoto laughed and lifted his head when he did so; allowing Byakuya to clearly see his eyebags, his shallow eyes, his tousled hair, the trembling nerves and veins that ran beneath his skin. His cracked lips, the lacking colour in his complexion, the acne accumulated from stress that he was clearly trying his best to remedy but had shortly given up.
“Yeah.. hahah. Um, why are you talking to me?”
Byakuya snapped out of his own personal analysis on Makoto. “..What?”
“Byakuya, you don’t talk to me. You hate..” Makoto yawned. A tear formed from the yawn and he blinked it away. “You hate talking to me. It’s always me talking to you, and you’re all like..” Makoto yawned. “You’re like, oh, whatever, I’ll allow you to accompany me, or something like that.”
Byakuya quickly ignored the comment. He didn’t need Makoto introspectively picking him apart piece by piece at noon on an unnamed day of the week, thanks to their lack of contact to the outside world.
“You’re exhausted.”
Makoto tilted his head, dust lifting from his book as he shifted and he quickly snapped it shut, placing it on the table.
“I’m not. I just thought it would be best to take a day to myself to focus on trying to get out of here and so on…”
“Go and rest. Now.”
Makoto had never felt so cared for in such an aggressively insulting way. Byakuya never failed to take a tone that could shock the spine out of someone.
He quickly questioned this. “Why are you asking me to rest? You don’t need to pretend to care, and.. I’m not sure when you would pretend to do that, anyway. You’re not exactly secretive about who you despise and who you can tolerate, somewhat. I’m aware I’m part of the initial group…”
“I am not caring for you or anything about you or anything regarding yourself! To whomever it must concern, I find your appearance hideous. It’s disturbing me. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, and the ghost itself. Go back to your room and rest. That’s an order.” His tone was so assertive, Makoto found it hard to say no.
“Sorry, Byakuya. I know I don’t look too great, but I feel fine. Honestly. Plus, it’d be unfair for me to rest when others are still working hard to find a way out.”
“Do you honestly think those idiots are trying to find a means of escaping? You know very well that we’re not leaving this building anytime soon,” He said. He turned his head to the side slightly, breaking eye contact with Makoto. “You’re afraid to rest because you feel like doing that is essentially giving up on yourself, am I correct? Don’t answer that. Of course I am.”
Makoto thought about this for a moment. He was right, but what good would it do now to admit it and say yes? Byakuya and him weren’t exactly the best of friends. He figured it would only give Byakuya an upper hand in their situation.
Byakuya hesitantly waited, watching the thought process swirl past Makoto’s vacant eyes. He wasn’t a very patient man.
“If anything, allowing yourself to reach such a state of burnout and exhaustion is giving up by itself. You astound me, the way you push yourself to such limits,” Byakuya pressed.
“I haven’t given up on anything- How come you’re so interested in this all of a sudden? You really have nothing better to do?”
“Well, forgive me, Makoto. There is no point in me trying to strike conversation - for mostly the sake of myself - if you’re going to be such a horrible, rude, pretentious b-“
Makoto’s eyes widened so much that they could have fallen right out of his skull. Funny of him to call him horrible, rude and pretentious. Byakuya sure would know a whole lot about being all of those things…
“Woah! I didn’t ask you to come and t-talk to me, you know.. You are allowed to leave.” Makoto was slightly on edge now.
Byakuya suddenly straightened his posture and dusted himself off, looking into the distance as if to avoid confrontation about what he was going to say next.
“Makoto.” His voice was filled with urgency and intrigue. “If I cannot recommend you go back to your room, then.. You would be wise to spend your free time, reluctant as I may be, in my company. It’s only logical. I will allow it… for now, should another murder take place, you and I can both be cleared of suspicion.”
“Byakuya, did you.. hit your head or something? You’re sure you want..” Makoto covered his mouth this time when yawning, a sleepy and exhausted sound escaping his mouth despite how he tried to muffle it. “You want me to.. come with you?”
“I don’t want you to. I want to use you for my own personal gain. Can’t you see that?”
“Nope. Doesn’t sound like it.”
Byakuya shifted his stance from his left side to his right, uncomfortably. “I’ll be in the library. If you decide to make the correct decision, that’s where you can find me.”
Makoto leaned forward presuming he’d say more, but quickly learned that the conversation had ended and Byakuya was already walking out of the dining hall. He rose to his feet, rubbed his eyes, stumbled about a bit, gathered the book into his arms and eagerly chased after Byakuya.
…
The wind against Makoto’s face was cold and refreshing as he ran through the hallway, catching up to the other at the foot of the stairwell to the second floor.
Makoto stopped short after running, and as Byakuya spun around on his heel to look at him, they were suddenly very close, Makoto looking up at him but failing and his eyes just barely meeting the taller boy’s neck. Byakuya rolled his eyes and held out his hand.
“Byakuya…? What’s that for? Don’t tell me you-“
“It’s for the book. Hand it to me. I’ll carry it. God, you are just obsessed with making false assumptions before learning the complete opposite, aren’t you?”
Makoto blinked and stepped back, removing the book from between his arm and his torso where he had been carrying it - squeezing it into his side - and placed it in Byakuya’s grip. As Makoto handed over the book, he had a passing thought about Byakuya’s hands. They were pale, slender and very well manicured. There were no bruises or cuts in sight, but he assumed that if there ever was, they would’ve been taken care of - tout de suite.
Every aspect of him was perfect, perfectly perfect in appearance and upkeep of his clothing, hair and body. Down to every last detail. I bet his hands feel as soft as they look, he wondered. I wonder what it would feel like to.. hold them.
“Are you coming? My time is valuable and I invited you based on the assumption you would be so kind as to not waste it but perhaps I misjudged your character.” Byakuya was already on the third step, raising an eyebrow at Makoto.
He swiftly apologised and ran after him, trying to keep up with his huge strides taking him upstairs at a tremendous pace. How does one have such long legs? He was amazed by just how far being tall could get you. It wasn’t something Makoto would experience, and if he did, it wouldn’t be for a very long time.
“Gimme a break, okay? I am tired… I just get a ‘lil.. detached., when I’m tired.” Makoto fumbled for an excuse.
“So you admit it,” Byakuya said, pushing the doors to the library open, not bothering to hold it for Makoto, “You are tired. It’s idiotic to admit that to me, knowing I could easily be using you to lead you here and kill you. You really are foolish, Naegi.”
“But you won’t do that, will you? Cause.. You just told me all of that, so what’s the point in doing that now? It’s not a very.. smart plan.”
Byakuya pulled out the chair from the desk in the centre of the room, turning on the lamp as he sat down. A book which had no doubt been sitting there since he last opened it was already on the table. Makoto dragged another chair from the other side around to where Byakuya was placed and sat next to him.
Byakuya shuffled in his seat, looking Makoto up and down with brief disgust. “Why did you do that? Move further away. Your presence is unflattering and quite frankly, unneeded.”
Makoto pretended to think for a second before smiling and giggling, sounding like he was drunk from loss of sleep.
“No, thank you, sir. I’m good here.” Makoto just moved slightly closer to annoy him more. Byakuya convinced himself he was repulsed, but something wanted him to keep moving closer. They were so close their shoulders began to brush, thanks to Makoto’s horrific fashion choice of a t-shirt, hoodie, AND blazer on top.
Byakuya turned a blind eye to his antics and scooted his chair closer to the desk so he was a comfortable distance to read his book. Makoto right away copied his action and imitated him to remain pretty much right beside him. Byakuya opened his mouth to complain, turning his head to look to his right at Makoto, but seeing his tired yet impish, childish grin, he sighed and looked back down at his book, not bothering.
“Yeaahhh…” Makoto breathed out.
“What? ‘Yeah’ what?” Byakuya replied, emphasising his mockery of the way Makoto said ‘yeah.’
“Just… Yeah.” He stared up at the ceiling, feeling content, but like there was something else he could be doing. Obviously sleeping, but…
“Alright? I.. I honestly have no idea what to say to that.” Byakuya paused, “You’re… so strange.” All this was said without ever lifting his head once, turning a page in his novel.
Makoto’s eyes were finally fighting against him, closing, and his head fell limp on Byakuya’s shoulder. He shuffled in his seat to adjust himself before sighing with a stupid smile on his face.
“ Remove yourself from me at once, Makoto, or I’ll move you by force. You’re ridiculous.” But Makoto didn’t move. He looked so happy, like he was finally at peace for once in a long time. The glow he had in his face and eyes on their first meeting had finally returned to his heavy-lidded eyes. Byakuya looked down at him, his teeth practically grinding, but he didn’t move him. He waited for Makoto to do what he asked, but when he didn’t, it appeared that he could care less at this point.
Makoto looked at Byakuya’s book, taking note of the way he was firmly holding it, and his hands… his soft but strong hands grasping the cover.
“Whatcha reading?” Makoto said.
“A book,” Byakuya said. “A book from the library.”
“What book?” Makoto asked. “Is it good?”
“You talk a lot, Naegi.”
“I could say the same about you…”
Makoto babyishly giggled again, strings of his spiky and messy hair pricking gently against Byakuya’s neck in a comforting way.
“Byakuya?”
Byakuya’s body tensed up. “What is it now? What more could you possibly want, you toddler? Can I not have a moment to myself to read?”
“Do you think we’ll all get out of here? Alive?”
“It’s a game to be won. Only one person can win. That’s the rules.”
“A majority vote can’t be carried out with two people… That’s only 50/50.”
“…Are you wanting me to tell you that we will all escape the school together? Is that what you want to hear? Because, Makoto, it’s untrue, and it’s-“
“Yes.”
Byakuya stopped. “What?”
“That’s all I want to hear. I just want to hear that we’ll all get out, you, me, Kyoko, Yasuhiro, Sakura, Aoi, Toko… You, me…”
“You said you and me twice.”
“I know. But like I said, that’s all I wanted to hear. Isn’t it funny? The way you kinda hate me and you’ve only known me for.. probably a few weeks, and you know exactly what I’m going to say.”
Byakuya protested this. “You’re just predictable… You’re so simple, th-“
“The 99%. You were going to say I’m so simple because I’m part of the 99%.” Makoto shot back.
“Seems I must be predictable too, then.” Byakuya replied.
“How are you not horrified? By that..?! Someone telling you you’re predictable, isn’t that your worst nightmare..?”
“It doesn’t hold as much weight when I hear it from someone so lowly as you. With so little power or initiative.”
“Ha-ha. Thanks a lot…” Makoto fake-laughed, leaning into Byakuya. His knee touched the blonde boy’s, their arms comfortably countering each other at their sides, but hands not touching, yet. Makoto’s head still placed gently on Byakuya’s shoulder, like two puzzle pieces sliding together.
“I think we’ll get out of here. I think this is where it stops. The killing.” Makoto filled the empty silence again. “I think we’ll all get out of here and still be friends.”
“Friends?” Byakuya scoffed. “I am friends with no one, especially not anyone here, especially not you. You cannot group me into your fragile idea of ‘friendship.”
“Mmm… Okayy.. Whatever you said, friend…” Makoto’s eyes closed and the tension sapped away from his body, beginning to fall into a deep, restful sleep against Byakuya.
Byakuya felt his body warm as Makoto sat so closely and intimately with him, even if he was just sitting there with his head on his shoulder, it was stressful enough for him.
Makoto was presumed to be asleep, but looked up slightly, and added, “Your hair is long. Like, really long… Don’t you cut it or something? Oh, oh! Don’t you have a hairdresser, or like, thousands of them that do it for you?”
“I prefer it longer. I wouldn’t say it’s long, but it’s not as short as others. You don’t have any place to comment on the length of my hair, though. Look at yourself.” Byakuya raised his arm closest to Makoto and instinctively ran his hand through the front section of Makoto’s spiky yet fluffy and voluminous hair.
The feeling of Byakuya essentially just playing with his hair made Makoto’s stomach drop and he felt all sorts of right and wrong. Right, because it was Byakuya. Wrong, because it was Byakuya. Right because Makoto felt drawn to him, like he could be himself around Byakuya, and despite the fact he would constantly shout at him and make fun of him, he was determined to get Byakuya to warm up to him eventually.
It seems he was successful.
Makoto could feel the adrenaline making himself heat up and become all flustered. Byakuya was oblivious for one rare moment in his life, and eventually removed his hand from Makoto’s hair, a little bashful, but not showing that whatsoever.
“Mm, well, going back to you and your hair, I like it. I never said it was bad.” Makoto relaxed again, his head falling further into the crevice of Byakuya’s neck.
Byakuya took in the feeling of Makoto’s head pressed against his neck. He swore, undoubtedly, he could almost feel his breath against his skin.
“Go to sleep,” He ordered. If he kept speaking, he thought he’d pass out at this point. He couldn’t show vulnerability. He couldn’t.
“I am! I am. I’m asleep.”
The way Makoto had mentioned the two of them getting out together earlier was playing in Byakuya’s mind on loop. Never had anyone been so unknowingly brave enough to get close to him like this, more than just physically. It left a sour aftertaste in his mouth, one that made him uncomfortable, but one he just couldn’t get enough of.
“We’ll get out of here,” Byakuya mumbled in his general direction. “Not that I intend to believe that. But, if that’s what you want to hear, then…”
“Soft spot for me now then, huh?”
“I will strangle you to death with your own hoodie strings if you even attempt to say something like that again.”
“Ooh, no, but that’s interesting.” Makoto dryly laughed. He felt delirious from the loss of sleep.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Byakuya smiled. He immediately stopped himself, relaxing the muscles in his face, but even a few seconds of it felt like forever. It had become apparent to him that someone like Byakuya needed someone like Makoto. And it would soon become apparent to Makoto that someone like Makoto needed someone like Byakuya. They, in a cheesy way, opened each others’ eyes to things they didn’t even realise.
“Goodnight.” Byakuya snorted.
“You know there’s no point in saying that when we don’t even know what time it actually is. It could be the morning. It could be the afternoon. It might be nighttime.”
“You sound like me for once,” Byakuya added, commenting on the way Makoto analytically picked apart his sentiment of ‘goodnight.’
Horrified, Makoto drew out a sigh. “Oh, my god, I do. Maybe I do want to die in here. Yeah, I think that makes me want to, now.” He concluded, non-seriously.
After that, they fell back into a silence that neither of them could shake. Makoto rested comfortably against Byakuya’s shoulder which he had just come to accept. At some point, right before falling asleep, he swore he saw Byakuya close his book, place it on the desk in front of them, and lean further into him. Or, perhaps he was just tired.
In many years from now, they would come to terms with the fact they were far more alike than they were comfortable with acknowledging.
But for now, this would do. This would keep the peace. And, more importantly, it would get Makoto the rest that he so desperately needed.