Chapter Text
Byakuya had been rather utterly confident in his chances of surviving this ridiculous killing game orchestrated by the most deranged minds imaginable. Yet lately, a familiar unease was settling in his chest.
Not for his own life, no. Rather for someone whose luck might not prove nearly as reliable as Hope's Peak Academy's title of the Ultimate Lucky suggested.
Makoto Naegi. A boy who insisted on believing the best in everyone, trying to build futile friendships and earn trust as if they weren't trapped alongside murderers.
How reckless. Pathetic even. Because isn't that how killers operated? They smile at you, win you over before slowly driving a knife in your insides when you least expect it.
But wait, what business was it of his? Why should he, Byakuya Togami, care if that good-for-nothing, hopelessly optimistic nitwit ended up dead in the middle of the night? If anything, it'd only improve his own chances of escaping this farce. After all, he was the most gifted heir the Togami family has ever produced.
So he dismissed the thoughts, pointless anyway. A waste of his valuable time.
After dinner, Byakuya returned straight to his room.
He showered, changed into his custom-tailored emerald silk pyjamas and lit the aromatic candle by his bedside before climbing into his bed.
Lavender, a scent that normally lulled him to sleep with ease, did absolutely nothing.
Ten minutes.
Twenty.
Thirty minutes later, he was still turning and tossing from one side to another of his laughably small dormitory bed.
His thoughts drifted unwillingly toward the previous murders. Every victim had a similar profile: weak, gullible, easy targets.
What didn't help was that Naegi happened to fit into at least two of these categories.
And the fact that he practically tailed behind Kirigiri all day only irritated him more.
She was dangerous, and he knew it. There was something about her eyes, a calm that was borderline frightening. She never looked afraid, always observing and calculating.
If she wanted to trap Naegi alone and harm him...ugh.
He clicked his tongue.
Against his will, a picture started to form in his mind. Naegi cornered, looking up with that hopeless expression, pleading and begging for his life.
That's when his fingers tightened around his sheets.
"If anyone is going to take Naegi's life..., it'll be me!", the thought flashed through his head before he could stop it, with all the ridiculousness it carried.
Besides, he still needed the boy for investigations; cause beyond his airheadness, he proved to be quite the witty sidekick.
Fukawa was unsuferable. Too unpredictable.
Trying to hold a conversation with Hagakure was simply a futile exercise, and Asahina, well...
She still hated him for what happened to Ogami.
That's when he abruptly sat upright, an annoying "tsk" leaving his lips.
Enough was enough; he was going to do something.
He hadn't quite decided what that "something" was, but he was done lying, pretending he didn't care.