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The island never gets properly dark. Ibuki noticed this pretty early, what with not being able to sleep lately. It's not a bad thing, she reasons, given the crazy situation that's been imposed on them. At least, when there's always a glimmer of sun on the horizon, she can see through the twilight, vigilant for the shadow of a potential killer.
"Peer through the twilight," she sings, as under her breath as she can manage, though it still echoes through the dimly lit hall of the island's restaurant, "Find killers in my… mind? Meh! I'll work on it."
She turns on her heel, drumming across the tables and the backs of chairs with her fingers, and bobs her head to the music in her mind. The song has been coming to her since the first day on the island, but she can't help but wonder how much more grim the lyrics will get as things go on.
No. She puts the thought to the back of her mind, grooving her way down the hall again, eyes quick to dart between the darkest corners of the room.
It's in a quiet moment, whilst she's deciding the sound of the bridge, that she hears it. A heavy, muffled thump on the ground outside, followed by another, then another in quick succession. The melody vanishes in an instant, like water on a hot stove, clouding her mind with dread and adrenaline.
The island never gets properly dark, no, but she's been pacing the room all night — she knows the hiding spots. With all the energy her tired body can muster, she launches herself to one of the corners most cluttered with plants. The leaves scratch at her face and she can taste dust, but it's better than dying, she reasons.
Thump, thump, thump. With her keen hearing, the sound quickly resolves itself into uneven footsteps, something certain, but unsteady — someone that trusts themself, but not their body. One of the guys, maybe — all of them have weird inferiority complexes they're trying to cover up. The thought tickles her, and she has to cover her mouth to repress a cackle.
Not the time, Ibuki, she mentally reprimands herself, despite the urge to burst out laughing at the concept of the boys vying for most insecure.
Thump. Closer now, faster, coming up the stairs. Thump-thump-thump-thump!
A wide shadow appears at the top of the stairs, breathing heavily and scanning the room with wide, arcing swoops of the head. There's intent in how they move, and is that something in their hand? Ibuki's lungs are bursting, her head heavy with the urge to say something, to escape, but they're blocking the stairs. Maybe, if she stays still enough…
The shadow's head turns in her direction, pauses. A slight curious tilt that she's begging is just imagined. She freezes, but her mind is going a mile a minute. If they advance, maybe she can overpower them — no chance, whoever it is, they're big. Nekomaru, maybe? Maybe she can dodge under them and run — she's fast and kinda small, right?
But the time for decisions was two precious seconds ago. The shadow is moving closer, now, closing in on her hiding spot like a hunting dog, and she has no more time to dither between options. The energy building in her reaches a peak, and—
"KYAH!" She lets it out with an almighty yell that accompanies her hands, clasped into fists, coming down against their chest, "Ibuki SMASH!"
Her would-be killer stumbles backwards, taken aback by the sudden attack, but is quick to recover. In his movement, he's stepped into the few shafts of moonlight that make their way into the room, and his face is revealed.
"Get your hands off me…!" The Ultimate Rich Boy- Affluent Progeny captures her hands in one of his own, holding tight as he regains his stability and stares her down, "Mioda?"
Ibuki blinks, trying in vain to wrest her hands from Byakuya's grip before meeting his accusatory gaze, "Oh, PHE-EW, it's just Ham Hands… Wait! You're not gonna kill Ibuki, right?"
"No, I am not going to kill you. What are you doing out here? You should be asleep." Something between concern and annoyance crosees his face, and she gulps, feeling a little like she's being told off by a teacher. She wriggles in place, still keenly aware of the heat of his large hand around hers.
"Ibuki's not tired," she insists, biting down a traitorous yawn with little success.
"Don't lie. You're not good at it." He finally drops her hands, having deemed her a non-threat for now, "You should go to sleep. You're of no use to me or the group if you're exhausted."
There's no helping the pout that overcomes her expression — he isn't wrong. But — she notices very quickly — he's also awake right now.
"Coming from you, Mr Leader!" She fires back with a cackle, "Who else is awake and wandering around right now? I know you didn't wake up just to come scare the crap outta me!"
Byakuya doesn't flinch at this, but there's a quirk to his lip that makes Ibuki thrill with success. He sighs and steps back, gesturing to the room at large, "I concede your point, Mioda, but I'm not just awake for no reason, you know. As this group's leader, it is my duty to protect those weaker than me from potential threats. If that means patrolling, so be it. I can sleep when morning comes."
As he speaks, the smallest of smiles curls at the edge of his plush mouth. There's a deep-set pride in his voice, reverberating through every word. Something in Ibuki's chest loosens, just slightly, at the sound. For a moment, she feels the panic buzzing through her body settle down like sediment in a still pool.
"Well, okay, fine, Ibuki likes that more," she admits, "It's been kinda hard to sleep thinking about all this crazy stuff going on, and worrying that someone might not wake up, and I don't know how everyone's sleeping so well, really…! Like, I just wanna yell WAKE UP!, you know?"
With a long, overdrawn sigh, she sinks to the ground. Now the adrenaline's faded, she's not nearly as confident in her legs' ability to keep her upright. Byakuya looks down at her with another two-in-one expression, and nods in what she could read as approval.
"For one unfamiliar with this sort of situation, it's understandable, but it isn't sensible to be so fearful. Not least because it might make you leap out and attack someone in the middle of the night. A good thing I'm so well built, or you could have hurt someone," he hesitates for a moment, before continuing in a softer tone, "So long as I am on patrol, nothing untoward will happen. If it would help you sleep, I'll be more vigilant when I pass your cottage."
"HAH!" And then the words are out of her mouth before she can think to stop them, "You sure you're not just hoping for a naughty peek?!"
Never in her life has she seen a man go red at quite the pace she now witnesses. He goes from anaemic to tomato-red with no pause, and splutters his words. The thrill of success comes back with a vengeance, causing her to cackle with glee as he regathers his composure.
"Thank you, Mioda, for that," Byakuya grits out, "Now, shall I accompany you back to your cottage?"
Without waiting for an answer, he reaches out a hand expectantly to where she's still sat.
"Ooh, what a gentleman!" Ibuku grins, and accepts the hand, bouncing up and directs the pair of them towards the cottages, all anxiety left in the shadows.
They find their way through the not-quite dark, towards Ibuki's cottage. Though the journey is short, Ibuki can't stop herself from keeping up a running commentary. She skips forward, then doubles back when the immensity of the unknown becomes too thick around her. Behind her, Byakuya walks slowly, steadily. His pace provides a reliable rhythm to the short walk. She returns to him over and over, an overexcitable dog, or maybe just a faithful one. Together, the fear the island brings seems a little less oppressive.
"Hey, y'know, it's not too bad when you're not alone," Ibuki observes, spinning on her heel to turn into the pathway towards the cottages. She grins up at her self-appointed guardian, who smiles tightly back at her, attention flickering between her and their surroundings before he thinks to respond.
"I agree. Having someone at your back makes it less likely to be stabbed, after all." Before Ibuki can respond, he indicates the door to her cottage, "We're here. You'll go to sleep, now, yes?"
"Hmmmm," she pushes into the room, ducking under his arm, "I dunno. It just don't feel right, y'know? Being asleep while you're out here pacing around."
Byakuya's lip quirks. He folds his arms, blocking the door entirely, as if to stop her from running off into the night.
"I already explained this to you — you're of no use to anyone if you're exhausted. You aren't to leave this cottage again until you've- you-" But then his words are cut off by a yawn that it's obvious he's been repressing for hours.
A smirk crawls across Ibuki's face, conviction and satisfaction fighting for dominance, "You ARE tired, aren't'cha?! Ibuki was RIGHT!"
The flush returns to Byakuya with a vengance, as he fights to speak over the redoubling of the yawn, "Stop shouting. Yes, I'm tired — are you happy now? It remains my duty to ensure the safety of the group until daybreak. I already told you — I'll sleep then."
"Nuh-uh!" Ibuki gestures down the pathway they just walked down, "Ibuki's cabin's at the end of the path, right? Why don't you just camp out here — then if anyone leaves, you'll see it right away! Pluuuus, then I can swap out with you! I'll nap some, then we can switch over. And 'cause Ibuki's so generous, you can even sleep in my bed. Just don't huff my pillow like a fuckin' creep, and we're all good!" She states the plan as fact, folding her arms right back at her unwilling debate club opponent, who doesn't even attempt to get a word in edgeways. When he doesn't react in time, she huffs successfully and turns into the cabin, "I'll getcha a chair!"
Bowled over by the whirlwind of personality, he doesn't have a chance to resist. And, if he thinks about it for long enough, he can't find a reason to. Her plan is about as reasonable as his own, of patrolling the island. Even if someone's left their cabin already, or, by rights, never went to sleep in the first place, he'll be in the prime position to notice any early-morning comings and goings.
Still, he thinks, For the sake of his pride, he would let her think this is a favour to her.
"Fine," he intones, "If it makes you feel safer, that's what we'll do. Don't get used to it, though. I expect you to not go wandering around again tomorrow night. You simply scared yourself too much tonight."
"Hah, sure!" Ibuki pushes the chair into his hands, "If that's what helps you sleep at night. Or, uh, not. Whatever! I'm gonna take a fat nap. Wake me up in, like, an hour, and then it's Ibuki's turn to play security guard!"
Turning from her, he smiles as he sets down the chair at the end of the pathway, and settles in for his watch.
The hour passes like treacle through a sieve. Once or twice, Byakuya swears he sees movement on the horizon, only to realise it's just the settling of shadows as the night moves on. Jumping at literal shadows, now — Ibuki was right. He needs rest. His body sinks further into the chair, his eyelids growing heavier with every blink. And then...
"Wakey wakey, sleepyguts," a singsong voice and a poke to the belly pull him from a sleep he never meant to fall into.
"Gh. Ibuki?"
Her face fades into view as he blinks himself awake. She smiles, "You weren't asleep for long, don't worry your rich little head! I just woke up and saw you nodding off. Get up, it's bed time."
He can't find it in himself to resist her urging. It must be 3 in the morning by now, and he hasn't been sleeping. "Alright." He lifts himself from the chair and starts to step towards the cottage, "You'll be fine on watch?"
"Mm-" Ibuki stifles a yawn, "Mm-hm!"
He eyes her, his detail oriented attention quickly taking in the hair (still styled), the eye bags (heavy), and then clothes (uncreased, beyond their usual state). She hasn't slept. He sighs and puts a hand on her shoulder, turning her back towards the cottage.
"I don't believe you." He all but pushes her indoors, following behind closely, "Go back to bed, Mioda. I can handle this." He says, scowling internally at his inability to hold back another eye-watering yawn.
For a moment, Ibuki looks as if she's going to argue, but the expression falls from her face as she backs up and sits on her unmade bed.
"C'mon, Byakuya, we're both tired. Nothing's happened tonight except this, so... Why not just give it up?" She pats the bed next to her expectantly, "Stop torturing yourself. Or, what was it you said? You'll be useless to the group?"
He lets out a long breath and sinks to the softness of the bed. Somehow, her bedding is softer. Maybe the girls were given better sheets — it seems like something that Monomi would have done. Or maybe he's just bone tired. Either way, he has a dreadful feeling it's going to be hard to get back up.
"Just five minutes, alright?" He concedes, feeling the way his body melts into the softness of the sheets, luxuriating in the burning freedom that comes when he kicks off his shoes.
"Yeah, sure, whatever you say," Ibuki shoots back, any barbs softened by the sleep in her voice. She makes a half-hearted attempt to get up, but he's quick to hold her back, one hand gently circling her wrist. Her eyes go quickly to the point of connection, but she doesn't resist when he pulls her back into the plush of the bed. Her warmth bleeds into the sheets, into the few places where he allows them to touch.
"That means you, too," he warns, "I won't sleep if you don't, if that's what it takes."
Through the half-dark of the cottage, beyond the miles of soft and scented sheets, he can see her cheeks reddening. He doesn't mention it. Impropriety is only a concern if it's percieved, after all. The night provides enough cover for this, at least.
When, at last, sunlight filters in through the half-parted curtains, onto the sleep-slackened faces of the pair, no one is there to see them curl that bit closer into each other, and silently agree to sleep for a few more precious minutes.