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Makoto stared up at the ceiling– a rotten taste in his mouth.
He couldn’t exactly pinpoint the flavor– he didn’t know if it was despair, blood or just plaque. Or perhaps a cruel mix of all three. Whatever it had been– it had done a successful job at keeping him awake. Despair didn’t just take form in the foul flavor, however– it also manifested around him. Pulling him in, suffocating him. Loud, screeching, piercing colors. Clawing at him, making his eyes burn and his mind split.
Chihiro Fujisaki and Mondo Owada are dead.
Five people are dead.
Five people, his friends, who were smiling with him barely a few weeks ago.
Their smiles now feel hollow.
Whenever he was alone, often in situations exactly like this– clouded by despair, he’d often ponder why they had deserved to die. He’d wondered why he tried so hard during the trials. In the moment, it was easy to view the trial as just a game– a game where the only objective was just to uncover the culprit. Uncover the culprit, and they’d win.
Yet it never felt like a victory.
Seeing Owada melt in a haze of neons did not feel like a win. Seeing Kuwata being plummeted by baseballs didn’t feel like any sort of accomplishment. The blood that spouted out of his mouth when his body wasn’t able to endure any more hits. Leon didn’t deserve to die like that, didn’t deserve to suffer like that– he was only put into that situation because of Sayaka.
Sayaka…
If he’d only been less naive.
Blood, blood is all he saw whenever he closed his eyes. Vivid flashes of hanging corpses, baseballs stained crimson, motorbikes and flashing lights.
Worst of all however– Sayaka’s lifeless, limp body– he hesitated to step foot in his bathroom at all. Even looking at the eerily clean door and its now-fixed handle sent jolts of pure panic through him– flashes of what had transpired there merely weeks prior which would raise his heartbeat exponentially.
Makoto shuddered, tossing and turning. Tossing and turning. Tossing and turning, yet the images kept resurfacing.
Naegi threw his blanket off and leaped out of bed– standing on shaky legs. The fast motion left a pounding in his temple– yet he tried to ignore it.
He lazily slid on his red Converse– not bothering to tie the laces. He then made his way to the door– disregarding his fatigue completely.
He didn’t care if someone had leaped out of the shadows and stabbed him the moment he stepped foot out of his dorm– for he was too tired to register the feeling of danger at all.
Naegi frankly did not have any reason for wandering the school’s hallways at what he presumed was a late hour. All he knew was that his own room was far too stifling of an environment to stay in for a moment longer.
If sleep was not an option, then what possible reason would he have to be in bed?
Besides not dying, of course.
-
Naegi brushed his hand against the wall of the unusual hallway, dragging his feet across the floor as if he was a walking corpse.
The statement wasn’t too far off of what he was actually feeling. Even as despair and brightly-colored lights engulfed his frame whole– he could not help but think back to a certain blonde.
His mysterious aura had attracted him from the start– and when his arrogant nature was made abundantly clear, he had really tried to dislike him. He really had made an effort to pry his eyes away when he sat alone in the cafeteria, legs crossed– with his glasses just low enough just to see his eyes. Which stared intently at the pages of a new book looking completely detached from his environment– which was otherwise completely twisted. Glowing effortlessly in an abyss of despair.
Naegi could easily compare him to the sun, not only was he radiaint– he had brought light to Naegi’s otherwise voided world even though he had hardly ever acknowledged him. Only capable of catching glimpses of him from afar. It was as if an invisible barrier had always existed between them– a planet would never be able to converse with a star.
He also tried to stop glancing back at his empty seat– trying to stifle the emptiness he felt in his absence.
A planet without a sun to gaze upon.
However, recently– Naegi had gotten his wish. Byakuya Togami had finally acknowledged him, in the worst way.
Sharp, blue daggers in the form of irises pointed towards him were all he saw when he closed his eyes. Each disdained scoff and dismissive huff he felt tearing into his heart, eating him from the inside out.
Whenever he would try to risk a glance at the sun, it had only lasted for merely a few fleeting seconds. Each time, he searched his cold eyes for anything– anything past pure hatred, yet his efforts were fruitless– only eating out his heart more each time he had to pry his eyes away.
Even as he was giving the closing argument– Togami’s eyes burned into the side of his skull. His sharp glare and piercing eyes alone made his body react– he stiffened under his gaze, stumbled over his words, his knees went weak.
Looked down upon in the form of dirty glares and icy scowls– acknowledged only when accused.
The look he was given when Naegi’s pointed hand trembled in his direction he would never be able to forget. The scariest part however didn’t come in the form of an outburst, rage, or even an insult.
It came in the form of emptiness. Bored. Annoyed. Disinterested. A look which seemed to say ‘is that it?’
In a way, it was much, much worse than any insult he could have possibly thrown at him.
Byakuya was bored.
Makoto was boring him.
His cold, apathetic stare had burned into his mind permanently. Yet he still felt as if the person he’d seen in the trial room was different compared to the proud yet logical blonde shrouded in mystery he’d come to know prior. He had known well of his arrogant nature– yet that didn’t stop Naegi from entering a state of disbelief nonetheless when confronted with the harsh reality. Could someone like him really do something so heartless? So heartless as to tamper with a crime scene, try and get them all killed simply due to his boredom?
Was Byakuya really capable of that?
Makoto’s steps quickened. There was no point in thinking about this– it didn’t matter what Naegi’s perception of his character was, anyway. He did what he did, so it was fruitless to try and question his actions. Naegi knew he was naive, after all– Maizono had manipulated him so easily. Incorporated him into her murder without him suspecting a thing– blinded by her porcelain smile.
Naegi stopped walking.
He let out a disdained sigh before slowly resuming his pace. He hadn’t thought about that in a while– truthfully he was trying to ignore it.
He barely had any time to grieve for Sayaka. He felt as if he was watching his body from an outside perspective– puppeteering a corpse.
Yet, now that he was really attempting to unravel his mind– he reflected on his most intimate moments with her.
Similar to Naegi, she was mortified at the sight of her DVD, and ended up running out the door.
When she first got the idea.
He shook his head, that’s not what he wanted to think about.
He chased after her, finding her spiraling in a classroom. He’d never seen her so distressed– her doll smile and porcelain face had cracked, letting raw emotion seep onto her flawless features. He held her close in his arms, squeezing her hands while his own trembled. Her eyes glossed over, searching his own for anything. Saying the first things he could think of.
“I won’t let that happen!”
He’d thought nothing of the shift in her expression at the time– but the cold glint in her eyes at his words now was undeniable.
Yet he couldn’t help but think back to how her eyes fluttered shut– and how she squeezed his hands, holding onto them even after the moment passed as her breathing steadied.
There was no logical reason to do that. There wasn’t any benefit for her to hold onto him for that extra moment– a moment which felt like an eternity, the aftermath of the trigger,
like she knew it was fleeting.
Like she knew it would be the last time.
Naegi’s hands twitched.
Then he thought back to Byakuya.
He thought back to those fleeting moments– the ones which had lacked malice. A time which felt so long ago. The rare times where the heir had indulged him.
Byakuya had been careful to never let his mask slip– and Naegi never tried to pry. Yet he still noticed things about their conversations– where he’d gone from actively detesting his very existence to tolerating him. Tolerating him then turned into asking questions about him, and with that came actually looking him in the eye– or letting out a dry chuckle at his remarks. Naegi thought back to those moments– they’d filled him with a fuzzy warmth he hadn’t gotten anywhere else.
Makoto had foolishly tried to test his luck in hopes that by some miracle, Byakuya would allow him to get closer.
Luck’s a funny thing, isn’t it?
Makoto Naegi– the most hopelessly average boy alive, had been invited into Hope’s Peak Academy via a draw.
Makoto Naegi– the most hopelessly average boy alive, had been put into a killing game with other Ultimate students.
Makoto Naegi– the most hopelessly average boy alive, had become friends with his middle school crush and a pop sensation.
Makoto Naegi– the most hopelessly average boy alive, had his friend stabbed to death in his bathroom, and was also unknowingly intertwined with her unsuccessful plot to murder her murderer in the process.
Surely, something good has to happen now.
Surely, the world would have mercy on him.
He let out a bitter laugh.
The school’s hallways were painted in surreal neon colors– hues of greens, blues and purples mixing into each other. Shapes and shadows morphing to create images much more sinister. Makoto froze, his shoes glued to the floor.
The colors mixed and blended in crude ways– making unnatural shades. The edges of his vision hazed, unable to focus on anything in the array of colors and shapes. Moving shapes, shapes out to get him, leaping out of the walls. Splatters of crimson on the wall, disappearing. Flashing again into white noise.
The sound of baseballs shattering bones, sizzles of melting flesh intertwined with screams of agony.
A gash on the crown, pouring red– eyes full of fear.
Slumped against the wall, expression serene like a discarded doll which had drifted to slumber.
He didn’t know when his feet started moving, only that they did. When he had realized, his steps only quickened. Making sharp turns with no destinations, a walk into a jog– taking any turn, any path to try and escape.
Escape from what?
What’s he running from?
The colors, they’re everywhere. Surrounding him, choking him with static. They won’t leave him alone.
Colors. Colors which infect his mind, decay his thoughts, wither his heart and seep into his skin like sweat.
Despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair despair-
“Byakuya?” He whispered. The name came out almost instinctively, his mouth remained agape.
Amongst the melancholy, the colors, the static– he caught a figure. A figure that wasn’t out to get him.
A ghost of a shadow at the end of the hallway lingered, Naegi wandered towards it like a moth to a flame.
When he reached the end only to be greeted with nothing, he turned his head left and right– then instinctively jerked his head at the sound of a door being shut. His feet dragged towards it.
He stared at the closed door for a moment– recognition making its way onto his features.
This was the door to the library– where he had taken him prior.
He squeezed his eyes shut, that wasn’t what he wanted to think about. All he was doing was checking up on him as a friend.
That was it, nothing more– nothing less.
He opened his eyes again– staring at the unmoving door. Beyond this door was Byakuya Togami– who had also presumably found himself having issues with slumber. Even so, is there a reason why he’d choose to spend his oh-so precious time here?
He had always quite struck out to Naegi as someone with a pinpoint schedule, someone who wouldn’t wake up past a second of his designated time.
Unless his sleep issues were worse than he thought. Perhaps wanting to turn to a place of familiarity, after the recent events. It wouldn’t immediately seem odd– if the subject was anyone except for him.
If the past events truly had impacted him so much to the point of interfering with his sleep– that would imply that he, even now, had retained some form of
empathy.
The word bounced around Naegi’s mind, a concept which seems to live in a separate dimension from the heir. Yet the warm word which clashed with everything he had come to know of him seemed messily intertwined in a way he could not describe even to himself.
Makoto reached his hand out, twisting the handle gently– an irreversible action, he’d realized far too late. For the heir’s instincts were far too sharp to ignore the gentle shut of the door behind him.
Notice he did, unsurprisingly. As when Naegi had turned his head towards the shelves– he found the heir already meeting his gaze.
Togami was in the process of pulling a book out when Naegi had walked in, holding it with his index finger and the slightest trace of shock on his face. He was also by far the most underdressed Naegi had seen him. His blazer nowhere to be found, only wearing his white button-up– he was even lacking his suspenders.
He held his gaze for what felt like an eternity– heat creeping up his neck. He now had begun to realize how stifling the library really was– suddenly feeling very warm in his hoodie.
Upon analyzing the brunette– the fear in Togami’s eyes had immediately dispersed, his shoulders untensing. “For a moment, I thought you were Fukawa.” He sighed, unfreezing and pulling his book out, staring at the cover while moving it in his hands.
Seeing someone like him in such a state was surprising– he almost looked normal. Naegi managed to snap out of his daze and approach him on light feet.
Upon walking towards the sun– he had now noticed how his hair was only slightly messier from the pristine state he was used to seeing it in– the warm, fizzling library light highlighted it in a way that really did make him look like a radiant star.
Makoto peered over him from a respectable distance, scanning the book. Byakuya’s eyes flickered towards him for a brief moment. He then flipped the book over and walked away, not glancing back at him. Naegi followed him with his eyes, watching his elegant movements– pulling out a chair and gracefully taking a seat. One leg crossed over the other– book held with one hand as he always sat.
As Makoto continued to gawk– Byakuya’s eyes stared firmly at the pages. Naegi’s eyes wandered down to the book– yet when he looked back up, icy orbs were staring directly back at him.
He resisted the urge to flinch and instead made a pathetic noise from his throat, he shrunk under his glare. “I can’t imagine you’re here to kill me, are you?” He questioned with a scoff– Naegi could only shake his head rapidly, sweating out of shirt now as he rushed to defend himself..
“No! No, of course I’m not here to kill you.” He sputtered, looking back up– he could have sworn he saw a ghost of a smile.
“I thought so.” He said, his tone more playful than accusatory. “Simply needed to confirm, you understand, don’t you?” His gaze drifted back to his book.
“Underdstand?” Makoto echoed, instinctively walking closer to the table. Byakuya glanced up at him lazily, not moving his head.
“I suppose it was my error for mistaking you as competent.” The insult didn’t hurt as much as Naegi expected. “However, you must have at least managed to grasp the target on my back, after the recent spectacle?”
Makoto crinkled his eyebrows, so Byakuya was at least aware that what he did had severely messed with all of them. “Well, yes. But…” He tried to think of something to say, yet his mind still felt foggy.
“Make no mistake however, I could care less about what you all think of me.” His glare returned, yet his attempt at intimidation faltered. “It’s simply in my best interest to be careful.” The last part was much quieter, it was easily missable– drowning in the flickering lights and the buzz of the air conditioner.
Yet Makoto still caught it. “Then, why did you do it?” Makoto said, voice cracking slightly. He took a deep inhale before speaking again, chest lighting up with fire.“Would it not have been in your best interest to not do anything at all? By doing something like that in front of everyone, letting a serial killer on the loose, would you not have just increased the chance of your own death?”
Silence followed, Byakuya’s eyes staring directly into his own. Heat trapped between their gaze– tension, yet different from the class trial. The fire of something much more intimate.
Just as Makoto was about to falter, he heard a laugh. The pure dulcet sound of it made Naegi’s breath hitch– his heart racing painfully out of his chest. “You really don’t change, do you Naegi?” He said dreamily, his gaze still locked on the pages of his book. “You can’t ever grasp the bigger picture.” Despite his words, his expression was different. Not quite as sharp or condescending– he looked serene. Softer. Though the moment was ephemeral, that hadn’t stopped Naegi from trying to burn it into his memory.
“I had already informed you of the why, had I not?” The serenity had shattered, and Makoto couldn’t help but yearn for it the second it was gone. He braced himself for his next words. “I was simply bored. The trial would have been completely and utterly stale-"
“That’s not a reason.” He blurted. Byakuya finally looked up from his book fully, staring at him quizzically.
“Why do you need me to justify my actions so desperately?” He said, his eyes glossed over with something Naegi couldn’t name. Curiosity? Anticipation? Whatever it was, it caused heat to rise in his chest.
Byakuya leaned forward, uncrossing his legs. “Are you simply not able to comprehend my motives? Does it not align with your shallow perception of trust?” He continued, his attention fully on Makoto.
The light painted the library in a golden hue, shrouding the books in shadow and mystique. Byakuya embodied the light perfectly– his glasses dipped just low enough for Naegi to see his eyes– glinting with something he couldn’t recognize.
“I still… trust you.” Makoto said, the words coming out felt natural– they slipped out of his mouth like silk. Byakuya remained unmoving– scanning his face for anything behind those words.
When he seemed to have come to his conclusion– he leaned back his chair, into the shadow– crossing his arms professionally. “Then you’re naive.” He stated– gaze still locked with Makoto’s.
The words seeped into Naegi’s skin– prickling like ice. Regardless- he smiled. “I know.”
They remained still like that for a moment– Byakuya stared past him, tapping his shoe slightly as if deep in thought about something. He locked eyes with Naegi– a newfound determination laced into his voice. “Naegi, I don’t suppose you’ve indulged in much classic literature?”
Makoto pressed his lips into a thin line– dragging his gaze away from the heir. Togami had been correct– Makoto could hardly even recall the last book he’d ever read. “No, I suppose not.” He said– Byakuya hummed dismissively.
His expression morphed into something more sly– eyes glinting in the shadow with something adjacent to mischief. “Perhaps we should test if you really do trust me.” He said lightly– Naegi responded with an incredulous look, hands tugging at the end of his hoodie.
“Well, what did you have in mind?” He asked tightly, staring at his now untied shoes.
“Read with me.” He stated clearly. “That should test plenty.”
Naegi stared to the side thoughtfully for a moment, it took his brain a while to process the request.
‘Read with me.’
The words repeated in his head, each syllable bouncing off the walls of his mind. For Byakuya to ask him to do something like this so suddenly– his hesitation reflected in his demeanor. Even so, he still turned to the heir with a soft smile, pulling a chair as the heir watched intently.
Before sitting down, he stood up to shrug his blazer off. He decided to ignore the warmth that pooled in his chest when he noticed Togami watching intently. Each shaky exhale left his heartbeat accelerating. His hands felt damp as he placed it on the stile of the chair, finally taking a seat.
He placed his hands awkwardly in his lap, staring at Byakuya like a lost dog, as if waiting for some type of instruction or approval. Byakuya was scanning him up and down– his expression neutral, which caused him to go completely still– even halting his breathing.
When Byakuya locked eyes with him, his neutral expression turned into a deadpan. “I don’t possibly see how this is an ideal reading position, Naegi.” Makoto looked away, a raging blush making its way onto his face.
“Oh, yeah… I guess not.” He said, tugging at his hood– now realizing his chair was a solid 9 inches from Byakuya’s.
This was the ideal position they had when they were hanging out– Naegi would sit a reasonable distance from him– aimlessly asking questions as Byakuya half-heartedly answered. For the normalcy to be stripped away so suddenly felt odd– yet Naegi knew that these circumstances were not normal. Byakuya huffed.
“Come closer.” Byakuya said– an invitation. Naegi paused for a moment– avoiding his gaze. Byakuya’s expression shifted, impatience coating his face.
Makoto scooched his seat closer to Byakuya until their chairs were next to eachother– trying to ignore his eyes burning into his skull.
Byakuya then reached for the book– but Naegi’s mind was elsewhere.
He snuck a glance below the table– at their legs. His one knee angled towards his, almost touching. The sheer thought of contact sent a fiery blaze up his spin, breath catching in his throat.
He clenched his teeth, collecting whatever resolve he had left– that’s not what he should be thinking about.
Before he let his thoughts wander– he shot his head up. Byakuya sent him a wary glance, his gaze lingered on him before daintily flipping open the book– placing it on the table.
Makoto let out a slow exhale, tapping his finger anxiously on his knee.
The book was, with complete honesty– quite thick, and narrow at that. The crammed pages made it quite inconvenient for two people to read together. It was near impossible for Naegi to see the book from his position, Togami seemed to have noticed too– he stared at the book then back at Naegi, his face much closer than before. “I’m afraid this still won’t work.” Byakuya said, expression unreadable.
Before Naegi could comprehend the situation or even react, Togami had shifted closer– to the point where they were practically on the same chair.
He could feel his thigh make contact against his– causing his gut to twist. Makoto’s body stiffened – to have him so close, so close as to hear the sun breathing over his neck– he instinctively straightened his posture, trying to mask his shudder.
Byakuya opened the book– Naegi followed his hands with his eyes. He then blinked back in surprise when Byakuya gestured the right of the book towards him. His face immediately drained– forgetting the reason he was here.
He had grown far too accustomed to sitting from a distance and gazing upon him from afar it seemed– so when the time arose he was close enough to see the flutter of his eyelashes, boundaries being broken by the minute– he hesitated. He hesitated beneath the man he’d so desperately been attempting to unravel– blinded by light.
Byakuya’s gaze lingered on him, cocking his head ever so slightly.
“You told me you trusted me, had you not?” Byakuya said– barely above a whisper. “Unless you’re going against your words, hm?” Despite the taunt– his voice dripped with syrup, his mouth hung open ever so slightly–where a sneer took its place. The line between sweet and patronizing blurred for Makoto– he met his gaze, and practically melted into it. His slight smirk and his expectant eyes– pooling with starlight, just for him. Makoto surrendered.
He brought his hand to hold his side of the book, holding it down– the stark contrast between their hands became clear. Togami’s were smooth, pale and radiating with elegance– while Naegi’s were stubby and textured. He didn’t even know it was possible to gain a new insecurity at his age– but it just happened.
Togami has so kindly opened the book on the very first page, yet he realised quickly flipping the pages would become quite a nuisance and grimaced at the thought. He brushed it off as a problem for later, eager to begin.
Naegi read through the first page carefully– the writing was definitely not reminiscent of any book he’s read, the words had an old yet distinguished feeling to them for sure. Upon reaching the page’s end, he stared up to find Togami staring absentmindedly at the desk with a bored expression. He felt a pang of dread– how long had he been done reading?
When Byakuya’s eyes met his, he was met with a disdained look. “What?” He scoffed. “Don’t tell me you need me to translate it to you.”
“Uh, no. I understood it just fine.” Naegi said with a tight smile. “I’m just not sure how to flip the page.” Byakuya let out a small sigh, tilting his head down.
“Let it go.” As prompted, Naegi let the one page slip from his thumb’s grip– watching it flutter over to Togami’s side, expertly catching it with his thumb and forefinger. Makoto stared for a moment in amazement, before returning his attention to the book’s contents.
They had slowly delved into a steady rhythm– the only sounds in the library being the occasional lilt of rustling pages. Each flip of the book like a wordless intimate exchange. The silence was comfortable, not suffocating. Feeling Byakuya’s warmth beside him, instead of being overbearing– it was reassuring.
For the first time in what felt like weeks– Makoto felt like he could relax. Not stressed out by the burdens of looming death or despair– he was safe. Safe in a story set far, far away from here– next to a man he thought lived in a separate world.
Yet, even as his heartbeat regulated– sorrow still clung to the edges.
He knew he could never really understand Byakuya’s motives– no matter how hard he tried. Byakuya was right in a sense– he wasn’t able to comprehend how someone could do something as horrific as defiling a corpse. Even though he knew this fact– he couldn’t help but ponder. Feeling as if their difference in morality had driven an invisible wedge between them– one that could never be removed no matter how much he tried.
Even though he thought he accepted this notion as a fact– a part of hims still felt gravitated, pulled away, a desperate need to get closer and understand. Against his better judgement– he let his emotions win. “Hey, Byakuya…” He muttered, barely above a whisper– yet his tone still felt impossibly loud in the serene quiet of the library.
“Just be quiet and read, it’s one of the very few moments you’re actually tolerable…” Byakuya let out a sigh, keeping his gaze firm on the book. Makoto considered stopping, but only briefly.
“Sorry, I guess I’m just curious.” He continued, still reading. “When you told me about your family, I thought it’d help me understand you more.”
Byakuya hummed in acknowledgement, eyes narrowing. “And it didn’t, well not really. Not in the way I wanted.”
“I really thought it would, all I wanted was to know more about you.” He felt the knot in his chest untying the more he spoke– being replaced with something warmer. “But, I found that even now, I still can’t fully understand why you did what you did.”
“Well, that’s to be expected. You should have known it was fruitless for someone like you from the beginning.” Byakuya said. The harsh words pierced into his heart. There was a pause– Makoto expected him to say more, yet he was met with deafening silence
“You…” Byakuya started, Makoto perked up– attention fully toward him. He paused for an unnaturally long time. “You should likely give up on such a feeble objective.” Though his words were sharp on the surface– they were laced with something else, as if he wanted to say something different– yet the words didn’t come out.
The moment passed– they continued reading in silence. Flipping through pages– as if they’d done this a thousand times before. The pages were dwindling in numbers, neither of them noticed. “Hey..” Makoto said, voice bright.
“What is it?”
“I think Rody did it.” Makoto said, lost in the pages. He saw Byakuya turn towards him for a brief moment– likely in disbelief. To his expectations– he let out a scoff.
“What makes you even remotely suggest that?” Byakuya went back to reading– yet Naegi could tell he was interested. He let out a small laugh– conversing as if it were second-nature.
“Well, the book seems to be pointing out his anxious mannerisms a lot, even when it’s not necessary. He was introduced as a composed character, even though he kept a level-headedness, it was clear he had a high level of empathy and kindness.”
“Please. You came to the conclusion that he would kill Ezra based on that?” Byakuya snarked, letting out a dry chuckle.
“Well, not exactly.” Makoto said weakly.
“The evidence clearly points to Charlotte.” Byakuya said, voice filled with pride and certainty. “Her emotional outbursts coupled with the fact that the victim was her best friend would make for a well written twist. She killed him in a state of panic, using their friendship as leverage to direct suspicion away from her. Emmet and Thadius are too obvious.”
“You’re wrong, Togami.” Naegi said with a slight smile. He could see Byakuya turn his head slightly towards him in his peripheral– a moment of pure disbelief which Makoto couldn’t help but revel in, despite the heir’s perturbed state.
“What?” He scoffed, visibly distressed– probably not used to being denied. Makoto let out a soft laugh– only making the blonde fume more.
“You’re ignoring how much Charlotte really loved him. She wouldn’t do something like that.”
Byakuya turned back to the book at some point, he scoffed– as if Makoto’s answer had been completely underwhelming. “...That’s your reasoning?”
“Uhm, well… Yes.” Gathering his composure, he took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t only look at evidence, motives also play a large part.” Makoto continued. “Taking the victim’s feelings into account, it’s clear that Ezra also cared deeply about her. Rody is also clearly depicted as the one with the least to gain by killing anyone.” The words flowed smoothly out of his mouth– displaying confidence he didn’t know he had.
He looked at Byakuya with a beaming smile, who had only glanced towards him. “That’s what you missed, Togami.”
A pause. “So?”
“So, I wouldn’t say it’s impossible for Ezra’s death to be consensual.” He finished proudly, full of contempt– looking back at the book with a warm smile.
“You’ve gotten better at observing, it seems.” Byakuya stated, catching the page.
Makoto gave a sad smile, seen by no one. “Yeah, I guess it’s just intuition.”
“Well, in all cases…” Byakuya paused again, a flip of the page. “It’s foolish to put emotions over evidence.”
“Maybe.” Makoto laughed. Earnest and warm. Then a sly smile came in its place– he found himself unable to risk the temptation to taunt. “We’ll see who’s right.”
“Very well, Naegi.” Makoto could almost perfectly envision the smirk on Byakuya’s face– that in itself made him laugh again, much to the displeasure of the heir– who only huffed.
The next few pages passed in a blur– they were reaching the climax of the book. While Makoto was invested in the story– he couldn’t help but dread the moment it ended. The moment he’d stop feeling his body pressed against his and his gentle breaths over his shoulder– that scared him more than whatever despair awaited him in his sleep.
He pursed his lip– taking a risky glance towards the other boy who had been wordless for the past while. He was staring down at the book intently, as expected– reading as if Naegi wasn’t even present. Makoto hadn’t realized how much he’d really been gawking, because at one point he ended up turning his whole head. “I know you’re staring at me.” Byakuya set, though his tone lacked any bite– neutrality in its place. Makoto could feel his cheeks dusting pink nonetheless.
“Ah, sorry!” He sputtered, turning back to the book– yet he found it much harder to concentrate this time. He closed his eyes momentarily– letting out a ragged breath too loud for his liking. He then found himself not being able to concentrate at all when he could see Byakuya’s head turned directly towards him in his peripheral vision– no attempt at being discreet. Despite the progress he’d made with him and how much he generally flew under the radar in the first few days– Togami could have a sharp presence when he wanted to.
Makoto could feel the blush on his cheeks intensifying, Byakuya’s staring hadn’t wavered. He tried his absolute hardest to focus his brain on the book while Byakuya’s eyes bored into the side of his skull– sweat sticking to his skin. And so– with all his remaining resolve, he tried to read.
‘Emmet walked over to the old bookshelf, scanning the titles. Scanning the titles. Scanning the titles-’
He had unconsciously put distance between them– and now the words were too small, causing him to squint. It had started to become a pain to read where the book’s crease was. He found himself leaning forward to get a better angle, realizing far too late he was obstructing Togami’s view.
He turned his head fast enough to give him whiplash– the sight he was met with left him frozen.
He saw Byakuya’s nose inches from his, somehow closer than before– he didn’t even want to imagine the look on his face. Makoto glanced up at the heir– who had surprisingly remained unmoving. To his shock– Byakuya looked almost as shocked as he was.
His eyes were wider than usual– his mouth parted and breathing ragged, his hair ever so disheveled. Makoto could see the slightest shade of pink on his cheeks– only illuminated by the dim lights. Neither of them moved from their position– their breathing mixed together, one barrier from the unknown. Something new and unfamiliar trapped between their gazes. One move from breaking another barrier– a barrier that could never be rebuilt. “Naegi.” Byakuya said– yet his attempt at trying to be stern failed. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry! Sorry…” Naegi said frantically– yet he still couldn’t bring himself to move away on his own accord. “Sh-should I move?”
Byakuya drew his gaze away from him for a moment– as if deep in thought. “No.” The sharp edge in his voice was back. “This can still work.” He said– his voice sounding way to calm for the situation at hand.
Naegi nodded– all though he couldn’t stop his head from shaking while doing so. He failed to see how this would be a practical reading position in the slightest. On top of that– his hand didn’t have an ideal place to go either. He was hovering it in the air awkwardly– the only place to let it rest on Byakuya’s thigh.
Byakuya’s words pierced through his thoughts. “Sit on my lap.”
Makoto stared up at him, trying to process whether he heard what he thought. Byakuya’s expression remained completely unmoving– a little bored, even. As if what he said was just a basic request. The composed version of himself a moment ago had now become a flustered, scrambling mess. “Well?” Byakuya said, impatient– furrowing his eyebrows. Naegi tugged at his hoodie collar– a feeble attempt at trying to direct his attention elsewhere.
“Uh, If you really insist…” Makoto stuttered. After an embarrassingly long pause– he lifted himself up from his chair slightly– shifting over fully to Byakuya’s. He sat down stiffly on his legs– discomfort seeping into his bones.
He let his arms dangle awkwardly by his sides– his legs glued together, trying to awkwardly balance on Togami’s. Byakuya didn’t move at all beneath him– which only made him sulk in his own embarrassment more. Eventually, he felt Byakuya’s soft voice near his ear. “Naegi.” He said, it came out as a sigh– disappointment laced in his voice.
Makoto felt like shrivelling up and dying on the spot. He then felt a grip on his shoulder– not firm, but not soft either. He initially jerked at the contact– but then allowed himself to sink into it when he realized it was Byakuya’s hand.
He pulled him back– until he was lying on his chest, head placed gently by his shoulder–basically snuggled into the crook of his neck. His heart spiked– chest twinging with something he didn’t want to name. The hand on his shoulder drifted down his arm– the brief contact burning until they reached to rest near his stomach– effectively loosely holding him in place. Makoto remained completely unmoving– trying to steady his own breathing while feeling Byakuya’s under him.
He took a small glance up– Byakuya, who was near angelic– was staring down at the book, which he had opened with one hand– holding it in between them, and resumed reading without a word.
Makoto rested his hand loosely beside him– the other on his own lap. He slowly redirected his attention to the book. He didn’t have any way of flipping the pages now– so he only had to hope he’d finish by the time Byakuya had. To his shock– they finished reading nearly at the exact same time, matching each other's pace perfectly even without words.
At some point– Makoto had fully let himself sink into his chest, fond of the soft, silky fabric of his shirt felt against him. His heartbeat steadied– but was still exponentially high.
He felt warm– but not burning, the type of warm that left him feeling fuzzy at the edges. The type of warm that had made him feel
safe.
He hadn’t felt safe for a long time. Something about being in Byakuya’s embrace– reading a book in silence, feeling their breaths against each other– made him never want to leave. The book’s many mysteries began to unravel– page by page a new revelation, a new twist– a crude mix of logic and emotion.
Upon the next flip of the page– Makoto’s eyes fluttered shut.
Makoto gazed up at him– a perfect view right beneath his sharp jaw. His blonde hair draped down the side of his face, due to him leaning over his shoulder– hiding his eyes. Makoto could barely make out his glasses from the angle. He’d looked so unbelievably ethereal, ever since he laid his eyes on him. To be so close to someone like him– someone so unbelievably perfect.
Makoto brought his hand up– trembling, as if he was unworthy to touch someone so divine. He lifted his hand to the side of Byakuya’s face– tucking his golden strands behind his ear. He couldn’t help but let his hand linger– his skin was so smooth, pale and radiant. Sharp, yet soothing blue eyes contrasting perfectly– glasses dipped above the bridge of his nose. He’d hardly realized what he’d done until Byakuya sent a concerned glance towards him– snapping him out of his reverie, jerking his hand back.“I’m- I’m so sorry! I didn’t even realize-”
Makoto was abruptly cut off by a chuckle– it was his. He was laughing at him– and looked so impossibly pretty while doing so. Makoto set out a confused noise– cheeks flushing again. Byakuya only smiled– it was still his signature teasing smirk– but it was softer. Being so close– it had painted his smile in a whole new light. He wanted to burn the image of it into his mind. “How dense could you possibly be Naegi?” He said with a smile. Makoto’s mind went blank.
“I- uh, what’re you talking about?” He said– everything around him now feeling impeccably warm. Byakuya let out another sigh– but this time, it wasn’t out of disappointment or annoyance– but something else.
“God..” He muttered under his breath– turning towards him ever so slightly, the same light smirk plastered on his face. “I was flirting with you.”
Makoto’s entire world seemed to pause. “What?” He uttered– voice barely audible.
Byakuya only let out another laugh– one a little more haughty. “I was really beginning to question when you would put that grey slop between your ears to function.”
“Are you–” Naegi’s eyes searched his face. “Are you serious? That was all-”
“Do you really believe I’d do this with just anyone?” He abruptly cut him off, a little more sharp– leaning forward every so slightly. Something else was laced in his voice– something bolder, more suggestive. His breath on the shell of his ear sent a shudder up Makoto’s spine.
“Well, uh, I-” Makoto sputtered– struggling to keep his ground. That was only made more difficult when the arm lying loosely on his thigh went to interlace his own. The contact of his hand brushed up against his made his state worse– nearly making him forget how to breathe– his mouth stuck agape, heart beating in his ear.
“I was really getting bored waiting for you to notice.” God, his voice– “Perhaps it was my mistake for overestimating a commoner.” His voice felt so unbearably sweet. He could feel his lips brush against his temple. Makoto still remained speechless– his brain practically melted.
Makoto came back slightly from his high. “Wait.” He began– still feeling light-headed. “If that really is true, why didn’t you say anything earlier? Why did you make it seem like you hate me?”
He continued– his voice coming out like glass. “What do you really feel about me? He uttered the words as if they were a promise– distant, echoing through the space between their breaths.
Byakuya spoke directly in his ear– lips brushing against the tip of his ear. “What if I show you instead?” His voice, vibrating– words repeating in his head– the noise Makoto let out in response could be described as anything but pure.
He shifted ever so slightly– enough so they were face to face, Byakuya looking down at him– Makoto gazing up at him, his eyes foggy, filled with anything but clean intentions. Togami stared down at him, lips brushing against his forehead. “You don’t know… what you do to me.” He breathed against his head– said the words like they weren't supposed to come out. Like a broken confession– shards of a mural.
He slipped his hand out of Makoto’s– holding his jaw instead. He held it in place in an act that was near tender– stared into his eyes like nothing else mattered.
Then the distance between them closed entirely– lips crashing against each other.
Makoto’s eyes flutter shut– melting into the sensation of his warmth against his. His inexperience was undoubtedly clear– yet he was too preoccupied to be concerned. He felt as if his heart skipped several beats– the sinful noises he made between their pauses for breath to be heard by no one but the boy in front of him.
Connected by spit– he found that Togami even tasted like luxury.
The weight of unsaid words carried heavy between them– another barrier broken, discarded. The weight of their actions hadn’t occurred to Makoto– and when they had, he couldn’t bother to care. Not when he was kissing him so fervently. Teeth clicking against his. Biting, gnawing.
Makoto didn’t know where to place his hands– his head turned completely sideways, trapped by Byakuya’s lips. Makoto tried shifting his body– closer towards him, his hand’s struggling to grip onto anything.
At that point, he heard a thud. He opened his eyes lazily– seeing the book fallen sadly on the floor. Byakuya must have dropped it– as his other hand went to grip his waist. Naegi’s attention tore away from the book– and he shuddered into the kiss.
Byakuya’s hand helped him stay steadily in place– pulling him closer. Makoto opened his eyes slowly– savoring the expression on the other’s face, impossibly close to his.
His. He was his.
He parted their lips for a moment– their gazes met. This time– not by hatred, curiosity, or disdainfulness. But something else– something loving. His eyes gleamed– golden hair disheveled, ragged breaths mixing with his. Naegi believes he hasn’t seen anything prettier in his life.
He leaned in again– pressing his lips against his for the second time. It wasn’t as hungry or intense– but still as exhilarating as the first time. It was slower– more gentle, full of passion and unsaid feelings.
Their foreheads touched– hands roaming, unforeseen.
Makoto didn’t care about despair.
Nothing else mattered.
Nothing else mattered except for the hand gently twirling his hair– snuggled beside him. Nothing else mattered except for the rising and falling of the chest beneath him– the sound of Byakuya’s heartbeat lulling him into slumber.
For the first time in weeks– Naegi slept peacefully.
And when Byakuya came storming towards him and Kyoko the next day, book in hand– muttering “you were right.” under his breath, Makoto couldn’t help but smile.