#Easter computing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hey-heigo · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 11

uh oh...

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

It wouldn't be Byakuya if he didn't randomly decide to start shit for no reason

Sometimes I wish Byakuya and Kyoko would just make out instead of whatever happens here

@moonlighttogami ! <3 !!!!

Content warning tags: None come to mind? But there are complex rituals

< previous - from start - next >

Despite the impending sense of dread that seems to fall over the rest of the class, Byakuya spends much of the next day with buoyed spirits.

It was hard for him to be displeased, after all. After parting ways with Fujisaki, he had spent a good portion of the rest of the night experimenting with the handbook, reading through one of the books he had brought from the library. By the time he finally decided to go to bed (at 3:27 AM, as announced by the handbook’s clock), he was completely familiar with most of the functionalities.

It wasn’t as good as having his vision back, of course, but it was leagues better than what he had before. Not just because he had a way to read, but a way to do something by his own volition; never before had he realized how much he missed being able to tell the time.

His good mood does not go unnoticed. Kirigiri approaches him at breakfast that morning, standing in front of him, arms crossed.

“You seem happy.” It doesn’t sound accusatory, rather, it’s as pointing out the weather, but she’s not the type to approach him without some kind of ulterior intentions. And remembering their last interaction, he suspects that he should be on guard now.

But, not even she can damper his mood, and he smiles politely at her anyways. “Do I? How kind of you to notice.” He hums, as he sips his second cup of coffee. If the others had noticed the strange confrontation occurring between them, they were ignoring it. Over at the group table, he can hear Fujisaki talking animatedly with Ogami and Asahina, making plans to try weight-lifting. The night before, Byakuya had suggested to him to start small in building his confidence up by confessing his secret to the others in small increments, since he was planning on coming out anyways.

“Oh, but make sure that you’re not alone in the room with just one other person. That’s a recipe for disaster.” He had added offhandedly, as they walked back to their rooms that night. “We’re still in a killing game after all. Everyone might seem friendly enough, but we’re all competition at the end of the day.”

Fujisaki had apparently taken it seriously, and was making strides in progress. He no longer seemed so quiet and hesitant, pushed to the outskirts. As he laughs along with something that Hagakure had said, Byakuya allows himself to feel a little pride in that, taking credit for the change.

Kirigiri still hovers in front of him, quiet. He raises an eyebrow at her. “Is there something that you need?”

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” She stares down at him. “You don’t seem bothered that our secrets will be revealed in around twelve hours.”

It’s true. He feels oddly light, even with that knowledge. Perhaps it was the handbook, bolstering his certainty in his own capabilities. No matter what would happen, he was sure he could overcome it as he always had. Even if his secrets did get revealed here…

Well, the Togami family had methods of keeping tight lids, and not even a faceless mastermind could compare to one of the oldest, most prestigious families in history. He’d suffer reprimands later, for letting such a thing happen…but with his circumstances, he thinks he could be afforded a little bit of leeway.

It’s for this reason that he decides to try stirring things up. “Maybe I’m counting on someone to die.” He replies languidly, fingers knit together, and there’s a sudden hush that follows his words. He thought the others might be listening in, and it seems he was correct.

“W-what?” It’s Fujisaki’s voice that speaks up. He’s standing up, staring at Byakuya. There’s likely a look of horror on his face.

“Am I wrong?” He replies, looking down his nose at all of them. “We’re all in competition at the moment, and our lives are only one of the things at stake. No matter what, someone is bound to die.”

“But-but we’re friends,” Fujisaki protests. “Even with secrets, to kill each other over them…that’s just horrific!”

He stares at Fujisaki, a little irritated. “Don’t be foolish. I’m sure that our secrets all hold different weights in our eyes, so don’t go assuming that we’re all looking forward to having them be publicly revealed.” The smaller boy seems to shrink back a little at that, though Byakuya saw this as an important lesson that needed to be heard. “Even if not because of this motive, then the next one, or the one after that. The mastermind plans to see bloodshed no matter what, so you shouldn’t underestimate just how far someone might go if pushed in the wrong direction. No matter how innocent they seem beforehand.”

He stares down Celeste in particular, remembering her outburst the night the motives were revealed, when it was suggested that they confess their secrets then and there. To her credit, she doesn’t seem to shy from his gaze.

“Are you referring to yourself?” she asks in her foreign lilt, a hand lifted to her mouth in mock affront, as if such a thing was unthinkable to her.

“How can I be?” He smirks back. “I’m not the kind of person to be shaken by such things.”

“My, how admirable.” She tilts her head. “But I thought one such as yourself would demonstrate a more aggressive approach to this game.”

“You act like you’re disappointed about that.”

“Would it be an insult to claim that I am?” She replies, a smile on her voice. “With one such as yourself, I was expecting you to be more invested. Or is your life too cheap to wager?”

The words are spoken without malice, but the intentions behind them were clearly meant to provoke. To draw a reaction. He’s had enough experience dealing with her type, people who clawed their way to wealth through slapdash, dishonorable means, and then thought that enough to consider themselves on the same level as he. He imagines she’s watching him, gauging his response. Such a shame, then, that he has no intentions of rising to the bait.

“On the contrary. My life is too valuable to be put on this playing table. It’d be like putting gold next to pennies,” He smiles at her, almost pleasantly. “I’m not on the same level as anyone else here, so I consider myself more of a spectator than a participant.”

There’s no small amount of outburst at that. Owada in particular, stands up swiftly, but whatever he’s about to say is interrupted by Kirigiri: “So, similar to the mastermind?”

He tenses immediately, and he can feel the others go still as well. There had been plenty of accusations that he and Kirigiri had been throwing around at each other, but this was the first time she had said it out loud in front of others. And so blatantly, too; he can feel eyes on him, crawling on his skin like insects.

He stares cooly up at her, even as he chews the shreds of raw skin inside his cheek. “What a bold and sudden thing to say,” He responds, keeping his voice even. “I wonder what you’re trying to gain by such baseless speculation?”

The tension is palpable. He can practically feel electric sparks running between the two of them, prickling and unpleasant. The room is dead silent, and all he can really hear is the quiet roar of his own pulse.

“G-guys!”

It’s Makoto who breaks the silence, jumping up from his seat and zipping to where the two of them are staring each other down. He throws himself bodily between them, arms waving. “L-let’s not do this, okay?! We have to keep it together!” He babbles. “I-it’s not going to help anything if we just stand around and accuse each other, so can’t we just...get along, or something?”

“Say that to the one who’s praying for a murder to happen.” Kirigiri replies coldly.

“You certainly speak loudly for someone who we know nothing about.” Byakuya shoots back, just as quickly. Makoto falters between them, stammering and trying to come up with something to say, but he needn’t have wasted his breath. After another moment, Kirigiri turns, and leaves the cafeteria.

With her departure, the pressure alleviates, and the others begin their clamor again, albeit much quieter than before. His appetite was ruined, and he set down his half-finished cup.

“I’m going to the library,” He says quietly, to Makoto. Though he might have no need for someone to read things aloud for him anymore, he did not feel exactly comfortable with the idea of being alone somewhere. Especially with Monokuma’s deadline fast approaching. “Come with me.”

He’ll be damned if he lets Kirigiri get the better of him, here and now.

___

Not for the first time, he revels at having Alter Ego at his fingertips.

Now, actual progress could be made. He has Makoto look through the medical texts as he pores through the case files, delighting in being able to comprehend exactly what was in front of him. After losing something he had once taken for granted, having it at his fingertips once more was exhilarating, and he delights in taking his time, listening to Alter Ego’s methodical voice read out each file. He’s tempted to use the image description command that Fujisaki had told him about on the photos, but refrains out of consideration of the mastermind’s security cameras; Alter Ego was meant to be a secret weapon, after all, and the less that anyone saw of it, the better. Even now, he keeps the volume turned low, and stands with his back to the camera lens, leaning against the bookcase.

Some time around noon, there’s a knock on the door. Makoto jerks his head up off the desk with a grunt. Byakuya doesn’t bother even looking up from the file in his hands. “Who is it?”

“It’s Chihiro…”

What could he want? He couldn’t have already exhausted the advice given to him last night. “Come in.”

Fujisaki creaks open the door quietly. He’s changed out of his usual outfit in favor of a white t-shirt and blue tracksuit, the jacket of which is tied around his waist; he must have just finished working out with Asahina and Ogami, judging by the healthy flush on his skin. Already, he seemed to be standing taller, straighter than before…though Byakuya couldn’t say for sure.

“What is it?” He asks, attention once more turned to the papers in his hands. “I doubt you’re already done talking to everyone.”

“N-no…” Fujisaki fidgets for a moment. “Um. It’s been going really well though! I’ve already talked to Hina and Sakura, and Hifumi and Celeste…” He counts off his fingers as he lists them. “Um, and Kirigiri figured it out when she saw me in walk into the boy’s locker room, and-”

“I didn’t ask for a progress report.”

“R-right! I know that,” He says, a little defensively. “But, um, I just…wanted to let you know?”

Byakuya can’t help the sigh that leaves him. “Who do you have left.” He says, shuffling the page back into the folder and closing it with a quiet snap. It was a shame that he had to be interrupted too; the case he had been perusing had been an interesting one, about a murder that had occurred in an astronomy observatory.

“Um…Just Mondo, Hiro, and Taka...oh, and Toko.” He scratches his head. “I tried to talk to her earlier, but she just…ran away?”

He considers this for a moment. Hagakure was flighty, but also stupid and friendly, so he wouldn’t pose much danger. Kiyotaka was always righteous and morally upright, and the first person to suggest sharing secrets, so he was also unlikely to be a threat. Fukawa was…well, Fukawa. Skittish and uninterested in most interactions, but…

He remembers the events of the previous evening, and grimaces. It’d be better to be safe than sorry with her.

Lastly, there was Owada. The Ultimate Biker Gang Leader was violent, and quick to anger, and has been so since day one. The night before, after Alter Ego was loaded onto his handbook, Fujisaki had admitted that he had been considering consulting either Byakuya or Owada on improving his strength, but the small declaration Byakuya had made against Monokuma was what helped him ultimately decide.

Despite feeling somewhat affronted to be placed in the same rank as a vagrant of that caliber, Byakuya couldn’t help but think Fujisaki’s final choice was a wise decision; after an event characterized by high tensions, there was no telling how the gangster might react.

“I see. So you need someone to go with you?” Fujisaki nods. “Then go get someone to go with you. I’m busy.”

“Well…that’s the problem…” Fujisaki sounds sheepish. “Hina and Sakura are also, uh, busy, and Hifumi and Celeste are…hard to approach, I guess? And I can’t find Kyoko.”

He ends his sentence with an expectant pause. Byakuya has to applaud him for showing some brazenness in his request, though he had no intention of humoring it. And though he would rather not be alone for too long, it shouldn’t take ages for Fujisaki to talk with this last handful of people.

He turns to Makoto, still sitting at the desk. “Go with him.”

“W-me?” Makoto startles upright. “Why?”

“I’m going to make some more progress on the case files. And it’s clear you’re not making any with that book.” He replies. Makoto cringes, surprisingly, as if he weren’t pointing out a simple truth - did that boy really think he wouldn’t notice that he was falling asleep at the desk? - “But make it quick. And stop at the kitchen on the way back and bring me some coffee.”

“Okay…”

He turns his attention back to the files as they leave, the door creaking quietly closed behind him.

< previous - from start - next >

#thpff chapters #thpff #byakuya togami #some complex rituals keep happening in this fic at this point they should just kiss sloppy style on screen #he is developing a fondness for chihiro. like hey this is my Computer Guy. you dont have a Computer Guy? heh. as expected of a peasant.#byakuya mentor route unlocked (he's not very good at it tbh)#kyoko novel easter egg in this chapter (i have not read the kyoko novels)

27 notes · View notes