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“He’s going to die.” The words had left Byakuya’s mouth before he knew it, and he knew they were the truth.
Makoto looked over at him, eyes widening slightly as he glanced between the blond and the screen. “What…” He began, his voice breathy. There was a slight shake present. “What do you mean?”
“The party,” Byakuya answered, as if those two simple words could explain everything. He knew they wouldn’t, but he didn’t care. “He’ll die there. Teruteru knows Nagito has planted the knife. He’ll try to stop Nagito.”
“And how will that lead to his death?” Kyoko asked, her voice accusatory yet emotionless. Her cold eyes were scanning him over, analysing his movements in a way he was used to by now. “Shouldn’t either Nagito or Teruteru die then?” She asked, her voice more curious than accusatory now.
Byakuya shook his head, lips pursed into a thin line. “No. He’s prepared. Too prepared. And an idiot. He’ll die.”
“Are… you sure?” Makoto asked, eyes shining with misplaced hope. Hope that wouldn’t ring through. “He’ll be careful right, since he’s you-”
“He’s not me,” The blond sharply interrupted, maybe a bit too sharply with the way Makoto flinched back slightly. “He’s merely acting like me, pretending to be me.” A scoff left his mouth. "And doing quite a terrible job at that.”
Kyoko’s eyes were still looking him over, making note of every little moment he made. “Yet you still know what he’ll do. You’ll know that he’ll die, so you must know why.” Her words were not a question, but a statement. A fact. An analysis.
One that was more right that Byakuya would ever admit to her.
He tensed slightly, only giving Kyoko a short glance before looking at Makoto. “It’s already late. I believe it’s time you go to sleep with how early you started, Makoto,” He said, his stern tone leaving no room for discussion. Unfortunately, he knew that even that wouldn’t stop Makoto.
“Wha-hey!” Makoto frowned slightly, a rare sight on the brunet’s face. “Don’t act like I’m a child! If he’s really going to die, I-I can’t just… miss that…”
“Byakuya’s right.” Came Kyoko’s voice, her voice softer than it had been before- ugh. “You need your rest, Makoto. You have been awake since four in the morning.”
That made Makoto let out a soft sigh, “Fine…” He muttered, his frown slowly fading. “But tell me if anything happens, okay?”
Kyoko nodded, “We will,” She promised, speaking in a tone that was reserved for Makoto, and Makoto only. It was filled with a certain kind of softness that called for a close relationship.
Once again, ugh.
But after giving his two friends a soft smile, Makoto left. That meant Byakuya was just with Kyoko now, something that was both good and bad. In this case, more bad than good. He knew that she was onto him.
“You’re tense,” She noted a few moments after Makoto had left, moving to sit down in one of the two chairs in front of the monitors. There was a silent invitation for Byakuya to take the second one.
He accepted it.
“I’m not,” He denied with a shake of his head. It was a lie, and he knew it. They both knew it.
Her gaze turned to one of the monitors for a moment- the party was already going on- before returning to him. “Really?” She asked with the slightest tilt of her head. She was giving him a choice.
Byakuya didn’t answer immediately. He stayed silent, merely crossing his arms as he thought of a good response.
But he never got the chance too. Because on one of the monitors, on the central one, the one displaying the party, the lights went out.
“Now.” Was all he said, but it was clear what he meant. They both knew. Both him and Kyoko turned their gaze to the screen.
And, like always, Byakuya was correct. When the lights turned on, there was chaos at first. People running around before it happened. The tablecloth was lifted up, and there he lay. The person wearing his face, a face that couldn’t currently be seen, lying face down on the floor.
With a puddle of blood around him. It was undeniable, he was dead.
The sight made Byakuya feel sick for reasons he couldn’t understand. Byakuya knew that it wasn’t actually him laying there, yet it was as if his mind couldn’t recognise that. All reason seemed to have disappeared from his head, leaving only a feeling of discomfort left. Or maybe a feeling that was bigger than just discomfort. Byakuya didn’t know.
He didn’t know.
Dead. Dead. He was dead. A corpse.
He was dead. Not him, but the one pretending to be him. Not he himself. He didn’t look like that, didn’t act like that. So why was he feeling like this? Why had his nerves freezed up, as if he had just watched some horror movie?
Why?
Why was he feeling like this? Why… Why was he almost scared, as if it were him there? It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. He knew it wasn’t him, that it couldn’t possibly be him. He knew that, yes. He would’ve reacted differently if that were the case.
Yet he was still feeling more than he should’ve. Something about this stranger wearing his face dying was different from all of the other deaths he had witnessed. The corpses he had seen, messed with-
His whole body tensed up as he suddenly felt a felt on his shoulder. It was a gloved hand, as was to be expected. “Byakuya.” Kyoko’s voice was firm yet soft. Caring. Concerned almost. “That isn’t you.”
“I know,” He responded quickly, most likely too quickly. His voice wasn’t as firm as he would’ve liked. “That isn’t me.” He repeated her words, his own words from not too long ago.
Then, a silence. The only sound Byakuya could hear was his own, soft breathing. The monitor had been turned off.
Had he done that?
No. He would’ve known if he did that. It had to be Kyoko then- she was also closer to the controls than him.
“He isn’t truly dead,” Kyoko said after a long silence, and it were those words that made Byakuya look over to her. “We should be able to… get him back once everything is over.”
Byakuya didn’t respond immediately. Not because he didn’t know what to say, but because he simply didn’t want to. That was the reason. Right.
“That’s… good. Good for them,” He responded in the end, his voice carrying a slight bitterness.
Kyoko’s hand moved down, lingering over his hand that was on his lap. He didn’t protest as she took it. “Do you miss them?” She asked, her voice softer than before. More vulnerable.
“We were friends.” Was his answer. It was unrelated to her question but was the perfect answer at the same time. “All of us.”
“All of us,” She echoed, a wry smile forming on her face. It was barely visible, but visible enough for somebody as observant as Byakuya to see. He had no doubt that it was on purpose.
They hadn’t talked about this. Never. Not with each other, not the two of them. They were the two most emotionally unavailable of the group, they weren’t good at feelings.
“It's what other people call having ‘feelings,’ Byakuya. And all you can do is mock them for it,” Kyoko told her, frowning slightly.
He scoffed. “What's wrong with that?”
“A friendly word of warning- someday that attitude is going to come back and bite you. Hard.”
“And I will happily elude its attempts,” He responded with a smirk.
He had been wrong.
“But...Makoto, how did you-? How did you manage to-? How were you able to uncover the truth...that even I couldn't discern!?” His voice was slightly shaking.
“You still haven't realized? We don't all act according to calculations and cost-benefit diagrams. That's what makes us so complicated. That's what you don't understand, and that's why you couldn't solve this case,” Kyoko explained, though there was no victorious smirk on her face.
She had been correct.
They hadn’t recovered their memories yet but had been told about them. Shown in some cases- there were old diaries and a yearbook. Photos too, more than just the few they had… seen during the killing game. As it turned out, the two of them had been friends. Or rivals, academic rivals. Apparently, nobody was sure.
Byakuya was quite sure it was both. No. He knew it was both
But that wasn’t the only unexpected friendship he had formed though. No. “Chihiro and I were friends,” He admitted. This was the first time he was saying those words to anybody. “Apparently, he used to follow me around, wanting to get more confident. Wanted to observe how I acted.”
Kyoko let out a soft hum, and for a moment Byakuya was sure that was all she was going to say. Once again, he was wrong. “Sayaka and I used to hang out often apparently. Tried to get me together with-” She suddenly cut herself off with a shake of the head. “I never talked to her in the killing game.”
“Maybe that was for the better. Or at least better than what I did,” Byakuya responded, and no further explanation was needed. They both knew.
For a small moment, Kyoko squeezed his hand. “I don’t think he would be mad at you. I think he would forgive you.”
“He would,” Byakuya agreed. “And that’s the worst part.”