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How dare she. He was a Togami, an elite thoroughbred born with the rare opportunity—no, the responsibility—to lead the world through power and conquest. Sure, the Tragedy had stuck a momentary pin in that, but his determination for his true calling hadn’t dampened in the slightest. If anything, the mind-numbing boredom was a blessing to his disposition.
Not even his newfound friendships (if you could call them that) with the gaggle of idiots he had agreed to stay in here with had changed that.
Well, it had, just a little. Before he wouldn’t have dreamed of even acknowledging he knew anyone from his class once graduation was over, now he often caught himself thinking of a future where he worked with them instead, and it wasn’t terribly far-fetched when their talents were considered; Fujisaki’s AI, Kirigiri’s competence with criminal work, even Yasuhiro’s—Ludenburg’s, that distinction was important—underground contacts were useful, and more importantly, could be far-from tied to him.
But, perhaps, and on very rare occasions, it became less about their expendable nature, and more about something else entirely.
Byakuya was not raised to care, he was not raised to protect, and he certainly was not raised to look out for anyone else far below the pedestal his family had crafted for him and those that came after. He was raised to lead, but not like this.
And yet…
Well, the Tragedy had certainly changed a lot more than just the social, political and natural climate outside, hadn’t it? An unfortunate but necessary realization that he wasn’t going to be caught dismissing any time soon.
Was that how he found himself in this situation? Because he had changed? Egh, how utterly disappointing if it was.
“You couldn’t help but be a nosey little prick, huh?” Junko’s voice drew him out of his own head, her smirk nothing short of predatory as she circled around him for the third time, red nails combing through sandy blonde locks despite the sharp jerk of his head. “I thought it was going to be ‘Miss-Headmaster’s-Estranged-Daughter’ digging through my evil lair, but I don’t mind being surprised in this day-in-age!”
‘Digging’ was a term she was clearly using to exaggerate matters here, as she often tended to do; he had simply found the key needed to enter a room that had been off limits for quite some time. What did she expect?
With the amount of downtime in this dusty sarcophagus, she should have been grateful it didn’t happen sooner.
As the girl started playing with the rim of his glasses, he didn’t bother tugging on the cuffs keeping him strapped to the chair: it was far too undignified, and only served to remind him of his capture in the first place. He didn’t answer her either—that’s what she wanted, right? How painfully cliche: the supermodel pining for the attention of her betters.
But Enoshima continued on regardless, “I’m sure Daddy didn’t get to teach you yet, but snooping isn’t really something that comes without consequence–aww, who am I kidding, a rich bitch like you wouldn’t be able to sneak around to save his life.” She resumed her previous position in front of the wall of screen, typing something with resounding clacks across the keyboard. “Buuut, I really don’t mind teaching a prissy dog some new tricks~!”
“Are you quite finished?” His voice was level, yes, but those icy blue eyes were blazing behind sharp panes of glass.
“Nope, not yet!” She flashed him that toothy grin. “I gotta’ punish you for sneaking in here, sweetheart, it’s only fair! Can’t have you running around and spoiling the finale for everyone else!”
His patience was starting to wear thin. “Then get on with it, you blathering airhead. At this point, you’re just wasting my time.”
She blew him a kiss before prancing off behind one of the desks to retrieve something. A book, leatherbound and dark against the blue light of the data processing center, but he could make out the gold lettering on the front: ‘78th class’. She started leafing through it, humming along as she did so like it was the first time seeing the information within. Finally, she stopped after a few swipes, and the wicked smile on her face only got wider. “Ah-hah, there you are! I’ve memorized this word-for-word, but sometimes a gal needs a little reminder, right?”
‘Or the plastic gratification for your horrible acting.’ Togami rolled his eyes and instead focused on the screens one more time. He had noticed them when he came in, but getting a closer look revealed just how much of the school she had under her surveillance thumb already. The pool, the library, the dining hall—how had they missed any of this…?
“There it is!” And she snapped the book shut with a resounding thump, slowly making her way back over to him, like he had been answering her the whole time she was mumbling to herself. “Here’s the thing, darling, I could absolutely kill you right now and those prancing powderkegs would be none the wiser as soon as I zap their memories away. Buuut, there’s something so deliciously juicy about the despair of you knowing all of that, and still playing along like a good dog because you don’t want your little boytoy to find out about your deeeeep, daaaaark secret.”
He ignored that pathetic excuse for bait well, but that did instantly make him sit up as much as he could, the ropes squeaking in protest. “I don’t care what abomination you are, or what circle of Hell you crawled out of: if you think threatening me is going to get you anywhere, you’re far more idiotic than I thought.”
Junko crooned, pinching his cheek with quick reflexes to avoid a snap of teeth on her fingers. “Aww, is that really what you think?”
He did not flinch. “You’re revealing your entire scheme to me and expecting me to stay silent with nothing but a flimsy threat about ‘secrets’, of all things. Do you know who I am? Do you know what kinds of blackmail the Togami family receives on a monthly basis?”
Something sharpened in her smile. “What was that, Polaris? I couldn’t hear you very well, you’re gonna’ hafta speak up juuust a little~!”
And he stopped.
Oh, he really tried not to, didn’t want to give her the satisfaction.
But he did.
“...Excuse me?” There was a burning hatred under his tone, and it was focused all on her, on someone he hadn’t given a second thought all-but two hours ago—if most of this classmates had changed his very stubborn mind, there was still the influential model that he would always think little of sitting just a few feet away. Now? She was the sole target of every bit of abhorrence he felt inside of him.
Congratulations, Junko, you have his full and undivided attention.
“Kinda the underdog story of the century when you think about it, huh?” She was now sitting fully on his lap, legs spreading open to an uncomfortable degree. “Daddy didn’t think much of you not just because you were the baby of the family, but because you were a girl too! I, for one, cannot believe men still act this way in this day-and-age—it’s absolutely barbaric!”
She flashed him a wink and held a finger up with a gentle hush well before he could open his mouth. “But I know exactly what it’s like to not be taken seriously because of your looks, pretty boy. Guess you and I could be cut from the same cloth.”
And he couldn’t help it, the laugh he barked out was cutting and devoid of humor, matching the pale fury in his eyes. “Is that the best you can come up with? Get off of me, now, and stop this idiocy.” That expression demanded blood.
But she was far from threatened by it. If anything, it was merely egging her on as she drummed her nails against her arms once they crossed. “Well, whatever, you've got plenty of time to come to that conclusion, baby: after all, despair does not discriminate between the poor and poor of heart .” She winked, mascara-covered eyelashes flapping against her cheek like a dying butterfly’s wings.
Like she was attempting to hypnotize him.
“So here’s the deal: you stay quiet about everything you’ve seen in here, and I won’t reveal your girly little secret to everyone here!”
Those icy orbs didn’t waver. “And why would I care about what any of these peons think of me?”
She got even closer to him before the last syllable left his lips, practically nose-to-nose and wicked smirk-to-calloused sneer. “Oh, you think you’re that subtle about it? How adorable—regardless, both of us know that’s far from the truth, and I’m not too sure you’d like your plain jane lucky charm finding out about that not on your own terms, riiight—oh!” She snickered a little when he pressed closer without skipping a beat.
‘Aw, look who’s trying to be all tough and stuff!’
“Why. Would. I. Care .” If his very generous patience had run out a few seconds ago, whatever small threads of it she was tugging on were fraying quickly.
“Because. You’re. A. Pretentious. Dick.” She tapped his nose with each word. “And here’s the thing, sweetheart, I know you’re trying to turn over a new leaf with these losers, especially the one you’re attempting to court. Sooo, how’s it gonna look to them when they find out you’re abnormal?”
Byakuya’s eyes flared. “How dare you—” He didn’t care what other people thought, why would he? He never had in the first place because he was perfect, he was a Togami, and no one could say otherwise contesting that. He had earned his place, and the pride that came with it, through mental and physical battle, so there was so way that a two-bit bimbo like this was going to—
He stopped.
– – –
He was standing, last in line, pushing long, blonde locks out of his face with swipes that caressed his face with all the gentility he had experienced as a child. His father was moving down said line, right to left, those cold eyes roving over each and every one of his half siblings in kind. He got to him, steps as silent as the grim reaper, and looked down.
He didn’t say anything.
Not even a word of contempt.
…
He didn’t view him as anything, not even last place. The worst feeling that could have hit his chest was clawing at the soft insides keeping them at bay, and he was expected to just stand there with his head held high and eyes facing forward.
To stew. Nothing more, and nothing less.
– – –
He hadn’t thought about it in quite a long time, but there was a specific feeling he had shoved aside—that he knew he had squashed—that had plagued him the second he walked in that deathly estate to stand beside all of the sociopaths that were all-too eager to rip victory from him without a second glance; helplessness.
But not here. Here he had control over everything, including his image, and while he liked to tell himself he wouldn’t care what any of them thought about him…
…
The tiniest bit of doubt, a microscopic amount of it. But it was more than enough for Enoshima to pounce on and ravage like a hungry cat. “Aw, finally coming to terms with it? S’okay, dollface, it’s a tough decision to make for sure!”
She finally removed herself from his lap, tossing blonde pigtails over her shoulders as she moved to grab a pair of industrial scissors. “Just so we’re clear, these are the terms, pretty boy: you say anything about what you uncovered in your snooping, and I’ll broadcast that-what-shall-not-be-said not just to your little friends, and your esteemed fucktoy, but the rest of the world too.”
A petty, baseless threat that he wanted to snap back at with all the confidence he knew he had earned a thousand times over.
And yet…
…
Byakuya Togami never cared about risks, especially not when it came to pointless things like acceptance. Perhaps the Tragedy had changed that in him as well.
-----
Life in a dusty prison like Hope’s Peak Academy was already hard enough, especially with the morons he had somehow agreed to bunker down with, but it had somehow gotten even harder with this overwhelming weight hanging over his head; Enoshima had caused all of this, and most of his classmates greeted her each morning with friendly smiles and invites up to the garden or for ‘afternoon tea’.
Ikusaba’s behavior made more sense now, though, and that was the only consolation granted to him for his current suffering.
And while he might not have cared before, that harpy had been unfortunately correct about one thing: Makoto was by far the last person he wanted to spook away after the…the goddamn progress he made. And, infuriatingly, cared about now.
Oh how far the mighty had fallen.
“Hey, Togami?” Ah, speak of the Devil. He stopped immediately before turning the knob on his dormitory door, glancing to the left to see a familiar face toddling towards him like a hapless infant. Makoto had a smile on his face, one that was a little brighter than when he had smiled at him the first time during their entrance ceremony, and there was a light excitement he could see bustling in his footsteps.
He was far too easy to read.
“What.”
That snippiness didn’t scare him away anymore, and he merely cleared his throat before stopping an arm’s length away. “I just wanted to ask you if everything was alright?”
Ah, perhaps he was becoming easy to read as well. How annoying.
“What made you ask such a ridiculous question?”
Makoto shrugged, but it was far from dismissive: those eyes were focused on Togami and Togami alone. “Just got a feeling something’s up, that’s all.” It was a slight lie, it wasn’t some magical premonition hitting him in the middle of the night that forced his hand here.
He knew Byakuya well now. And he could tell something was bothering him.
The heir scoffed, and paired it with an eye roll to boot. “Well, I hate to burst your bubble here,” no he didn’t, “but your radar is way off tonight. I’m fine, as fine as I can be tethered to this place with the rest of you. May I retire to my dwelling now?”
It was at this point that the luckster peered both ways down the hall before offering him a smile, like Togami hadn’t said anything at all, let alone biting and harsh. “...Could I join you?”
“No.” It came almost immediately.
“Why?”
It was at this point that Byakuya’s eyes drifted up to a very particular part of where the ceiling and wall met, a spot he had memorized from that intensive wall of camera angles. “...” And he could practically imagine her face as she leered at them; a toothy smile with dark, gleaming eyes just waiting to drink up his uncomfortable misery.
“Byakuya?”
Icy blue eyes fixed back on that slightly confused face and he glowered at the weakness in it, the vulnerability that Makoto was just showing him like it was nothing. Like it held no currency between them. “You’re just going to bother me if I don’t, so I’ll save myself the headache.” And he opened the door for him.
The only invitation the other boy was going to receive.
He watched for a moment as Makoto shuffled his way across the red carpet and onto the desk chair beside the bed—a polite, little thing to the end, he never sat on the bed without permission. He knew he was on borrowed time, especially now that the boy had pegged that he was hiding something for him. However had he become some goddamn observant?
He was spending far too much time with Kirigiri.
But he knew what telling the truth meant here, and how careful he had been regardless.
“So, what’s up?” Naegi was leaning back against the chair, trying to offer Byakuya an encouraging smile that was far from manipulative. Not that Togami thought any such spark existed within him, not in the slightest.
But that didn’t seem to be enough. The heir frowned and crossed his arms tightly over his chest as he paced back and forth. “I told you before, nothing at all.”
The luckster tilted his head, smile becoming a little more crooked. “You’re not doing a good job at convincing me, ya’ know?” A tease, and Byakuya knew it: it was easy enough to recognize at this point.
But he wasn’t in the mood. Far from it, actually.
“Did I ever give you permission to cast your pitiful opinions onto me?” he snapped, those blue eyes searing like a heated blade. It was as easy as breathing for him now, to lash out, to demean, to stand above the rest, almost easy enough to do without thinking.
And yet, when he saw a brief flash of hurt enter those eyes, he felt…something clench at his chest.
God damn it.
But it wasn’t out of any kind of hatred for the other boy, was it? No, he couldn’t allow him to get mixed up in this. That was partly why Enoshima quietly dangled him in front of the heir like a little, baby carrot: it was an easy way to make sure he stayed on the leash.
“...Nothing is wrong. If that’s your only goal in coming here, I suggest you leave now.” This was easy, Byakuya Togami knew how to be biting. He knew how to wedge what he needed between him and anyone else he deemed unworthy, unfit, moronic—take your pick.
Makoto was quiet, but only for a moment. His resilience was unbearably annoying when it came to situations like this, but it certainly didn’t surprise him that that wasn’t enough to shoo him away. The luckster slowly stood up and walked the short distance to him, his short stature making it easy for him to gently place his hand on the elbow of the diligently ironed suit jacket.
And he just stood there.
“You don’t have to tell me right now, I don’t want to push you to do anything you don’t want to. But I’m right here if you do, okay? We can…hmm…” And he parted from him to look around the heir’s room slowly. “Oh! I really enjoyed you reading to me last night! And I know you said I was hopeless, but I think I was getting the hang of the violin too.” A brightness in his eyes, and it was for Togami and Togami alone.
It made his cross expression soften into something almost melancholy.
What the hell was he doing, keeping secrets like a child? If the rest of his class shunned him away, it mattered not; only one of them truly mattered to him in the end and he was gallivanting around his room like a little dog, trying to make him feel better, thinking of him before himself.
He had been complicit in idiocy himself.
That thought only made him angrier. And yet, it gave him a small boost of courage too. Because if there was one thing keeping him from spilling what that blonde witch was planning, it was far from something he was ashamed about. And, more than anything, far from something he should keep hidden from someone as important to him as Makoto.
“My name was Polaris.”
Makoto paused his motion to paw at the books stacked on the desk and blinked. “Huh?”
The heir took a quiet breath in through his nose, and those eyes fell on the luckster with a sincerity that almost startled him. As prickly as it was, he could see Byakuya’s intentions as clear as day for once. “My name, the one I was born with, and the one that my mother chose. It was Polaris.”
“Oh…” The boy looked down at his hands that rested in his lap, and then, “...that’s really pretty.” Togami could read the confusion well. “I know you’re probably going to get mad at me for this, but isn’t that a girl's name?”
That pointed look sharpened ever so slightly—because no, Makoto, it was not solely a girl’s name, for God’s sake—but it didn’t leave his face. It was pointed as to what his expression was telling him, and while there wasn’t a concern with the luckster, the tension only seemed to mount as he blinked at him a few times.
Thankfully, he eventually seemed to get the picture, brown eyes widening as he scrambled to stand up. “Oh…! God, Byakuya, I’m sorry, I—!” Panic was written all over his face, and it made the other boy seethe a little.
“Why the hell are you apologizing?”
Leave it to the soft-hearted of them to swallow and look at him with a perfect mixture of embarrassment and contrite. But no pity, no sympathy, nothing that would have made Togami kick him out in an instant. “I didn’t want to be disrespectful, that’s all! Especially since you seemed, I’unno, nervous to tell me.”
Byakuya Togami didn’t get nervous.
However, before he could snap in the boy’s direction, he felt something soft and warm touch his hand. And before he could say anything about that, Makoto took it upon himself to settle in Byakuya’s lap, offering him a very Makoto-esque smile as he gently drew the pads of his thumbs over the heir’s knuckles.
It was soft, it was quiet, it was exactly the kind of useless stupidity built on emotions that he expected from the boy.
He’d never admit how endearing he found it.
“Thank you for telling me.” That fluffy, brown head rested on his chest as Makoto found himself content with lightly playing with fingers much longer than his own, an act almost childish enough to make Togami roll his eyes.
Almost.
“I…hope I made it easy for you, and all that, just now. Sorry if you felt you couldn’t.” The response was entirely predictable, but it wasn’t unappreciated. As much as Byakuya didn’t care even what Makoto thought about it, the gentility and carefulness he was giving him was…nice. It was a quiet moment, and one Byakuya was content to bask in for a moment; there was a level of safety to it that he wasn’t surprised by, but felt relieved about all-the-same.
But, of course, as the heir usually did, it was squarely back to business almost immediately afterwards.
They could continue this later.
“There is a reason that I told you, Makoto,” the other boy instantly perked at the use of his first name, “and I need you to promise me something: it doesn’t leave this room, understand? Things are delicate right now, and tumbling one way or the other could be disastrous. I need to be able to trust you, is that clear?”
He hated the way those eyes brightened. No, not because he liked it, what a prosperous notion. “Of course, Byakuya.” He adjusted himself on his lap to look at him, those illuminated eyes not shying away. “Always—I mean, that’s easy, that’s what I mean to say. You can always trust me.”
Despite how much he would deny it, that promise alone was far more valuable to him than anything else. Not even all of the wealth in the world could match it.
----
Junko Enoshima took a small sip from the soda she had just opened, watching the two as they spoke in what they thought was secret, pressed together like the lovesick teenagers she knew they were. It was cute, truly! If anything, seeing a nut as tough as Byakuya being cracked open through stupid love was awe-inspiring for a devious bitch like her—she had to give Makoto props for that, at least.
Ah, back to the matter at hand, though.
“Poo, I really wanted to have some more time with these little goobers, see them spread their wings of luxurious hope before being clipped by sharp blades of despair.” Ugh, she winced a little: too on the nose, Enoshima, you can do better than that!
Still, she smirked, reaching under the desk to pull out a binder. “Oh well, fast-forwarding to the fun part is fine too, I suppose. Keeps that mind-numbing boredom away!” She opened it up and leafed through some of the pages with a small giggle, closing it after a moment to stand up and setting it on the chair she just leapt out of. “Gotta make the preparations! Oh, Mukuro will be so excited she’ll be useful for once!” The cover, in all its glory of glittery pink gel pen fonts and bleached white paper, read one thing and one thing only.
Junko Enoshima’s Totally-Awesome Killing School Life Plans.