#byakuya togami fanfiction

[thatnewweeb]

Wrong | Byakuya Togami

Summary | Before the Tragedy, before the Killing Game, Hope's Peak Academy was just a school for the Ultimates. The Ultimate Affluent Progeny wasn't supposed to fall in love, wasn't supposed to get married. So why did he have to meet her?

Content | Fluff, fem reader, Byakuya gets angry at reader, reader doesn't take very good care of themself, he might be slightly out of character idk

Word Count | 1.9k+

A/N | Personally I love the idea of Byakuya falling in love and changing the way the inheritance system of the Togami family works for one person. I might do a part 2 to this, I'm not sure yet

"Good morning, Byakuya," you smile, walking into your classroom. Not yet going to your own chair, you take a seat on the desk of the Ultimate Affluent Progeny.

He tuts a little as he looks up at you, shaking his head. "You should not sit on desks, you know."

You laugh, running your fingers through your hair. "I know they're not meant to be sat on, but that doesn't mean you can't. Besides, this desk is used to it by now. It actually probably likes it by now," you stroke your fingers across the top of his desk in a sensual manner.

This response just makes him shake his head again. "Are you trying to seduce the desk, Y/N?" he teases.

"I don't know, depends on what the desk wants, doesn't it?"

He smirks a little, looking down to hide the small genuine smile. "The desk certainly does not have feelings. It is not sentient, you imbecile."

"I know that, Byakuya."

"You are later than usual," he says, looking at the clock. "Did you eat breakfast?"

You shake your head. "No, I missed it," you say sheepishly, smiling as you look at him. "I stayed up all night researching again."

"Ultimate Biologist? Tch! More like Ultimate Insomniac. You cannot keep staying up all night, or skipping breakfast."

You widen your eyes, staring at him. His eyebrows furrow a little in confusion at the look on your face. "Is Mr Cold and Emotionless worried about me?" you ask him teasingly.

He rolls his eyes. "In order to perform at your best, you should be taking care of yourself." He crosses his arms, raising his eyebrows at you.

At this point, Taka notices you sat on the desk and storms over, telling you to sit in a chair. You sigh and slide off the table, sticking your tongue out at him once he turns around. Byakuya looks down, smiling to himself before you address him again, forcing a neutral look onto his face.

"Well, I guess I will talk to you later," you smile brightly and wave before turning around and walking away to sit in your own seat, giving Toko a smile when you make eye contact with her.

He sighs to himself as he watches you walk away from him, wondering what he's going to do about this.

Later that same day, you're in the biology lab, sitting at a desk in the corner of the room, reviewing some findings from a previous experiment you conducted.

You're so focused on your reading that you don't notice someone enter the lab, jumping when they clear their throat.

"Were you really that focused?" Byakuya asks, smirk on his face.

"Well, you were cornered by Toko, I assumed you'd be trapped for longer, so I thought I would come back here and spend a little more time on my research. It's important, after all."

He nods. "Yes, it is," he says, walking over and looking over my shoulder. "You should cross out that result. It's clearly an anomaly."

"I know that's an anomaly, sir. I thought I was the Ultimate Biologist."

"You should call me sir more," he smirks.

You roll your eyes. "Well in that case, I'm not going to call you that ever again."

He smirks, shaking his head at you. "You will say it someday, not trying to mock me." You immediately shake your head, making him chuckle. "You're coming with me. Pack everything away."

You tilt your head, confused, but he doesn't give you any further explanation, looking at you expectantly. You get up, packing away your equipment. He makes you leave your research in the lab so you can't stay up all night reading it over and thinking of new tests.

"I have a ton of books in my room already, you can't stop me." You stick your tongue out.

He sighs, pushing his glasses up. "Well then, I will be confiscating those before you go to bed."

You pout, looking up at him. He has to struggle to fight back a smile, grabbing your cheeks and squeezing your face.

"Don't look at me like that. It's for your own good."

You stand right in front of him, crossing your arms. "So, when did you start caring about my wellbeing?"

He keeps his eyes locked onto yours, but a small blush creeps onto his cheeks, which absolutely does not go unnoticed by you.

"Aww, is the Ultimate Cold Bastard blushing?" you tease.

He ignores you, not even bothering to react. "Are you finished here?"

When you nod, he grabs you by the wrist and basically drags you from the lab and to your class's dorm floor.

"Now, we are going to have dinner, and you are going to bed."

"Come on, you dragged me away from my research, my very important research, for this?"

He sighs. "I know your research is important, but you are working yourself far too hard."

"No, I am not. If anything, I'm not working hard enough!" you say loudly before taking a deep breath. Byakuya just stares at you, having never heard you raise your voice at anyone before. "I understand that it may seem concerning, but I am fine."

"No, you are not," he says seriously. "If you don't eat and barely sleep, you will get weak, and you will get ill. If that happens, you cannot continue working."

"I'm a biologist, do you really think I don't know that? Byakuya, I'm aware of the limits of my body, and I'm not going beyond that. I will eat, I haven't yet today, but I want to go back to the lab."

He shakes his head. "No, Y/N, you're going to sleep. You need it, you look tired."

You sigh before walking into the dining room, Byakuya following behind you.

After you finish eating, he forces you to go to your room, dragging you along the hall.

"Byakuya, let go of me!"

"No! You are going to sleep!" he shouts at you. When he sees the surprised look on your face, he sighs, pushing his glasses up. "You need to sleep."

You sigh and just agree, deciding it is for the best to just go along with what he says. Once you have changed your clothes, Byakuya standing outside so he can make sure you've actually done it, he says goodnight and leaves you alone.

Figuring that he will wait around your room for a while, you set an alarm on your phone for an hour and a half, getting into bed and taking a nap. He isn't wrong, you haven't been sleeping recently and you need to, but you can't spend a whole eight hours sleeping.

An hour and a half later, your alarm startles you awake. Immediately, you shut it off and jump out of bed, changing back into your clothes. You slowly open the door, checking that there's no one around, specifically Byakuya.

There's no one there, so you walk back to the lab, continuing with your research. There's no one else around at all, so you don't have to worry about making too much noise or anything.

You hum to yourself as you work, walking around the lab as you read.

Probably an hour after you go back to the lab, you hear the door open, spinning around to see who it is, but you have a pretty good guess.

Byakuya stands by the door, arms crossed, a look of disappointment and slight anger on his face.

"What are you doing here?" you ask him, panicking a little. You know he'll be upset with you for this.

"I should be asking you the same question," he snarls, walking over to you. He doesn't stop in front of you, making you walk backwards, back eventually hitting the wall. His hand slams on the wall next to you, trapping you between him and the cold surface.

You look up at him, shocked, but you can't keep eye contact with him, the angry expression on his face making you look away. His hand immediately comes up, forcing you to look at him again.

"No, don't you look away from me," He hisses. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I was doing some research," you say quietly, keeping eye contact now, a little scared to look away.

He tuts, shaking his head. "Well, at least you are honest about it," he sighs, letting go of your face, but putting that hand against the wall also, really keeping you trapped.

"Why do you care anyway?"

"Why? Why do I care?" he shouts, face getting angrier. "Because, believe it or not, I care about you, you idiot!"

"Why? Aren't I just some peasant who's below you?" you shout back.

He doesn't say anything, just gritting his teeth as he stares at you for a moment. A second later, before you even know what's happening, his lips press against yours.

Your eyes widen for a moment in surprise before they close, hands coming up to rest on his chest. The kiss is rough, obviously angry, yet full of passion.

"Do you think I would do that if I considered you to be below me?" he asks with a smirk. "You are the one person here that I consider to be my equal."

"I- Byakuya, I-" you start before you sigh. "Byakuya, I can't do this," you say quietly.

His eyes widen slightly when you say that. "Why not? I-I thought you liked me too," he says, showing a rare sign of hesitation and panic.

"I do! I do like you!" you say with a soft smile, trying to reassure him. "I just- you've told me about how your family works. I refuse to be part of the Togami family's stupid game. It's because I like you that I can't do this."

He looks down slightly for a moment, thinking. "I'll change it," he says, meeting your eyes again. "I'll change the system. I don't- I don't want to have as many children with as many exceptional women as possible. I already have an exceptional woman who I genuinely want a relationship with, so why would I want more?" he takes your hands, squeezing them tightly. "I was told not to fall in love, I was told it was wrong for me, I always thought it was wrong for me, I didn't think it would happen, but it did."

You squeeze his hand back softly. "Byakuya, it isn't wrong to fall in love." You give him a gentle smile. "If you really want to change everything, I will stand by you as you do it."

He stares for a moment before wrapping his arms around you tightly, his head resting on top of yours. "Thank you," he whispers.

Clearing his throat and letting go of you, he straightens up. "Now, you still need to sleep."

You pause for a moment, looking up at him. He sighs at the look on your face, shaking his head.

"You are going to bed. If you do not wish to spend the night in your own room, you are welcome to spend the night in mine."

His response surprises you, but you nod, agreeing with his proposal, small blush spreading across your cheeks.

He immediately slips your lab coat off your shoulders, placing it on a table. His arms slip under you, picking you up princess style, and carrying you back to his room.

You spend the rest of the night in his bed, cuddling with the Ultimate Affluent Progeny.

[urban-witch101]

The readers when they realize this fic is almost over:

[yawujin]

this is abit suggestive so if you don’t wanna do it, it’s all okay! could i request rantaro,nagito,shuichi,byakuya and kokichi with a reader who likes to give hickeys? just like when they’re making out or smth the reader likes to just give them one

not a problem! suggestive is my middle name!!

request | dangan boys receiving a hickey

type | suggestive , short read , they/you pronouns used, reader insert

rantaro amami ♡

he catches his breath, realizing what just happened; he was so caught up in the moment, and didn't register the feeling of lips suckling on his skin.

later on, when the mark has deepened in color, taro checks it out

he's impressed to say the least, he didn't know hickeys could be such a pretty purple color...

he's debating on whether to hide it or just let it show completely

nagito komaeda ♡

he's happy to receive something that feels as good as this from them!

he relaxes into the light sting of teeth softly biting into his pale skin

after a while, the hickey turns a nice red color, and he stares at it in the mirror. everytime he thinks about it, he can practically feel the lips on his skin again. a type of phantom effect...

he subconciously touches the mark as he goes about his day

shuichi saihara ♡

he's stuttering out sentences that get cut off everytime they breathe on his skin

he's much too sensitive to heat, and the warmth of their lip isn't helping his case (neither is the fact that he's burning up from the inside out)

his flushed skin turned the same bright red as the hickey

he is VERY thankful that his uniform shirt has a longer collar

he gets used to the colorful mark, tracing it with his finger and shuddering deliciously everytime he imagines it's their mouth there instead

byakuya togami ♡

he's not shocked to see that he is able to make them act like this

as in they're licking up his neck and giving his skin a nice gentle tug with the suction of their lips. then, going on to run their teeth over the area over and over

they can't see it but he is smiling wickedly to himself

he orders them beforehand to leave a hickey in a place where his shirt and blazer will be sure to cover up

those marks they give are for his eyes only. he simply believes it's no one else's business and would show them to no one.

kokichi ouma ♡

little brat went "ow! ouch!! that hurts, stoppp!!!" in a loud, exaggerated voice that they knew they needed to make stop ASAP

the harder they bit down, the quieter he became so, they continued

he eventually picked up his hand and held it to the back of their head

"stop and i'm going to scream much louder than that" he threatened.

he has his trusty bandana to hide whatever marks he needs to...however, ever since they gave him hickeys, kokichi wore it hanging lower on his neck, if ever.

[sprinklenoodles]

I am but a fool. It is 12am and I should have read Chapter 3 of the Fantasy ay sooner cus AAAA! I wish I could draw!!! This was so coooool! For once, the beginning and the clear fondness Byakuya has for Chihiro. How he picked out an outfit for Chihiro and everything. When they're out in the town and Byakuya interacting with that kid. That was adorable. Also, just the showcase of how Byakuya want's to be a good prince, making sure the fire didn't spread when that building got hit with fire. And how he got all worried at the end for Chihiro which distracted him which shows how much he cares! MY HEART!! I have no clue if this is coheirent by the way. Like, gosh! It was such a nice read and was refreshing which is fitting since it's a change from Byakuya being in the castle. Plus, the plot is plotting and that is awsome. OH! And I liked that one part when Byakuya's ears twitched and he could sense something was wrong. I like how it gives a subtle show to his awareness regarding the people of his kindgom and how he can tell when something's afoot. ALso, ice sword cool. We gotta love the ice sword cus he of course has sword training! Even if this wasn't the fantasy au, he just gives that vibe that he's maybe fenced sometiem in his life. AAAALSO!!!!!! Chihiro is precious and wonderful. I would like to draw the outfit Byakuya gave the little guy cus fashion B-] Not sur wht Byakuya was wearing but u can tell! I wanna draw that scene with him and the kid. Also, I like how the kid's name is Jay. Reminded me of Ninjago cus why not. I could just imagine that little elf kid vibrating in excitement btw. It is very apparent I am tired as hell and I'm rambling so bad ahaha! I feel I was going to say more but I lost steam and I am so tired in fact that I don't even think I'm capable fo fixing any of the types I have here which is quite the load. Quite the heavy laod. Like some dirty dishes that I'm ignoring cus booooo! Byut yeah! Good read. Goood time. Byakuya got kidnapped. Good for him. During that fight, my brain brought up a freaking Pitbull song which I will not elaborate on and will instead leave as a vague thing for suspesne and all WOO READING! ALSO I FINISHED THIS AND IT IS NOT 1AM SO WIN!!! GET DUNKED ON, TIME!

This was definitely one of my fav chapters to write so far, so glad you liked it too!

And yeah, Byakuya is fond of Chihiro!! He just has to be in a good mood and suddenly Chihiro is his little buddy.

He also does just care about his kingdom and the people there. He's obviously still an asshole, he really is, but he can also be nice. And he does try to be nice to kiddos, especially when they're a fan of him like little Jay.

Doesn't mean he's nice all of the time though... Like, it was kinda mentioned but Byakuya isn't the nicest to his servants at times... He's still Byakuya after all.

But he does just want to be a good prince. He'll generally be nicer to strangers cuz they're his people and haven't wronged him, especially kiddos.

And Byakuya is just kinda wearing his usual outfit. So, like, light blue dress shirt and pants, with a black vest and black cape. I, uh, have a wee little habit for forgetting mentioning clothing lol.

Also, the kid's name was a Ninjago reference. I will in fact be using those names whenever I just have a random character. Already have another in Chapter 5 lol.

And, ice sword!!! It probably won't be the last time you see something like that, it's a very handy weapon after all. Byakuya also did have some sword training, but not a lot...

But, yeah. Glad you liked the chapter since I had a blast writing it :D

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 24

why did this chapter kick my ass?? damn!!!

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

soz for the unexpected delay i was moving + starting a new job + lost my grip on byakuya's slippery psyche

playing with my own headcanons for hiro and his backstory actually. bc. well. the original just is not very good at all now is it

tyyy @digitaldollsworld as always!!

Content warning tags: blood, mention of razor (not in intentional self-harm context), minor injury, nausea, panic attack, toxic obsessive stalker Toko, insecurity, mentions of self-starving

< previous - from start - next >

Byakuya drops his straight razor, and it splashes into the basin of his sink. Followed by a few droplets, hot and ruby-bright as it tracks down his jaw, vanishing almost instantly upon contact with the water.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, frozen, one hand still half-raised to his face, still curved in that loose grip. Then he braces his hands against the porcelain edge, knuckles tensing as he tries to keep them from shaking. The cut on his jaw stings, still slowly welling blood; his razor, silver and distorted, warbles in and out of sight with the water’s ripples, his eyes struggling to track its shape. He makes no move to fish it out of the water.

This was his second attempt at shaving. The evidence of his first attempt still throbs on the opposite cheek, near his ear. Despite moving glacially slow, other hand pulling the skin as taut and still as he could manage, the hard edge of the sink digging into his hip as he leaned as close to the mirror as he could, it was still proving to be a fruitless effort. The elegant blade that his mother’s family had gifted him, that he had been using since he became heir, was now simply too large and awkward for him to use. A task that should have been easy after all of Pennyworth’s guidance was now fraught with pointless danger.

…Maybe it’s not worth the trouble, he thinks, numbly. But the hollow, shattered defeatism that comes with the thought is so unfamiliar that it makes him grit his teeth, and then reach slowly into the tepid water to pull the razor out. His stubble was patchy already, especially near his jawline, and any more delay would almost certainly warrant someone commenting on it - maybe Hagakure, who couldn’t seem to keep anything to himself, or Celeste, who would delight in pointing it out while masking it as polite concern - but, at the rate he was going, he was going to draw more attention with a bloodied face.

His fingers scrape the basin, searching at a glacial pace until the edge of his thumbnail taps against the handle. He draws it out gingerly, shakes off the stray droplets, then wipes the blade with a silk cloth. Drying it carefully, meticulously - as Pennyworth had taught him, ‘it’s as good as useless if it rusts’ - before folding it and replacing it in the cupboard behind his mirror. He dries his face with the towel hanging around his neck, ignoring the way the Turkish cotton scraped against raw skin.

I could always just try again later, he reasoned with himself. Not so much as a surrender as it was a tactical retreat; and the results were bound to be better when he was calmer, more composed. He could still do it - he just needed some time.

And as for anyone who might notice it…

…Well. It wasn’t like he was spending much time around anyone else these days anyways.

—

Even if he wasn’t trying to seek out anyone else’s company, he couldn’t help but take note of their own routines, how they settled into their lives after feeling the world shake around them. 

It doesn’t surprise him that Celeste and Yamada have continued on as if nothing had happened at all. Celeste still maintains her airy simulacrum of a mysterious princess, occasionally inviting Byakuya to tea or dinner or a game of Othello, which he declines each time. Yamada, when he wasn’t offering himself up to be bullied and ordered around by her, would be in the newly-opened art room, and Byakuya could occasionally pass by to hear sounds of shuffling paper and the scrape of pens, and the harrowed, heavy breathing of a man possessed.

Ogami and Asahina are similar, returning to their athletic routine, though clearly more affected by the deaths of their classmates. They were attached at the hip before, but now Byakuya never saw one without the other, always in each other’s company, often holding hands - if Ishimaru were here, he might have decried it, ‘No PDA in the hallways!’ in that annoyingly shrill, school-bell voice - once, Byakuya had even overheard the two of them occupying the bathhouse together, when he had passed by with the intention of checking on Alter Ego’s laptop.

(He’d left quickly when he realized what they were doing, leaving the locker unchecked, his face hot and uncomfortable. It was all well and fine for them to cope how they pleased, but couldn’t they have some more decorum about occupying a public space? He was almost beginning to miss Ishimaru.)

…Speaking of Ishimaru. Even Mondo had found something to occupy his time with, these days.

It seemed that after that night with Alter Ego, something had shaken loose inside him, and he was an entirely new person. In some ways, he was even more troublesome than when he was depressed and languishing; loud, piercing, and always appearing when he was least expected, or at least it felt that way to Byakuya. Somehow materializing nearby, demanding to know what you were doing, why you weren’t adhering to some vague, obscure rule that he might’ve made up on the spot. An overgrown hall monitor that acted like every little infraction could mean life or death.

(It was all in the name of protecting the AI, but it was also getting on everyone’s nerves, and it almost made Byakuya regret ever involving himself in the biker’s business in the first place.)

Makoto and Kirigiri were doing whatever it was they were doing. Byakuya rarely saw them, and when he did, he never made any attempt to speak to either of them. It didn’t make much of a difference from his previous dynamic with Kirigiri, but with Makoto, it was almost like a repeat of what had happened just after the first trial. But this time, Makoto never made any attempt to approach him.

Which was perfectly fine by him. Regardless of Makoto’s intentions, his betrayal was unforgivable. There was no reason to associate with him any longer.

And lastly, there was Hagakure.

It’s not clear if the self-proclaimed clairvoyant had given up on Mondo, given the overnight change in personality (at the very least, there was no more need for a suicide watch anytime soon), but he seems to have latched on to Byakuya, for no clear reason. Frequently calling out to him whenever they crossed paths, dogging in his steps like a very determined stray. Chattering incessantly, even when Byakuya refused to deign any of his ridiculous stories with a response, often trying to herd him into the cafeteria so they could “lunch together, bond, maybe share a cup of joe? Even rich guys like joe, right?”

“...Did you mean ‘coffee’,” Byakuya replies in a flat, deadpan tone that was more resigned than irritated, during what must be the dozenth time that Hagakure had intercepted him, and maybe the third time he conceded to the other man’s insistence; if only because Hagakure had been particularly persistent recently, and would probably end up following him and broadcasting to Fukawa or Monokuma or anyone else exactly where Byakuya was seeking refuge, when not in his room.

(Not to mention that he was a little hungry himself, though he could only imagine the kind of common swill someone like Hagakure might consider coffee.)

“Hey man, to-MAY-toes, po-TAY-toes, right?” Hagakure just shrugs, and half-guides, half-pushes Byakuya by the shoulders into the cafeteria.

It’s midday. The place is empty, with even Celeste missing from her favored spot at her table. Hagakure shuffles him into the kitchen, tells him to wash his hands, and then-

-shoves two things at him. One, round, pale brown and still damp, with a slight papery texture beneath the moisture. The other, a piece of smooth, green plastic shaped like a ‘T’, with something silvery running parallel to the top. He skates his thumb lightly over it, and finds the edge of it sharp; a tiny blade.

“Whoa, careful! Don’t hurt yourself!” Hagakure tugs the tool back out of his hand, inspecting his fingers. “Like, come on. I even gave you the vegetable peeler, this is easy mode.”

“...What?”

Hagakure doesn’t explain right away, instead occupied with rolling up his sleeves, tying the brambled mass of his hair back with a strip of white. Arranged on the kitchen counter is a selection of tools, a colorful assortment of vegetables, and a hunk of something dark and pink, occupying the cutting board. There’s already a pot on the stove, and Byakuya watches Hagakure’s hand fiddle with some dark, invisible button across the top of the oven, and a telltale blue flame clicks to life. “We’re making gumbo! And you’re my assistant for the day.” He announces, with the same cadence of a cooking show host. He’s beaming, as if he hadn’t just said something utterly, completely insane.

“...What.”

It’s hard to make out, but he swears Hagakure rolls his eyes at him. Which would be infuriating enough to comment on, if he wasn’t also holding out the aforementioned vegetable peeler out, handle first, towards him. “Gumbo. It’s kinda like, curry I guess? But it’s a lot more soupy.” Apparently not put off by Byakuya’s unresponsiveness, he pushes the peeler into his slack hand. “I mean, I guess I’m not surprised you haven’t tried it. It’s not Japanese, or like…fancy, rich guy food.”

That snaps him out of it. “What,” He repeats, emphatically, with feeling. “Do you think you’re doing?”

“Um, like I said, making gumbo-”

“No, I mean-” Byakuya waves the objects in his hands, and feels only a little ridiculous in doing so. “I’m not- using these.”

Hagakure winces at that. “...No offense, Toga, but, uh…” He hesitates. “It’s…not exactly a good idea to give you a knife right now, you feel me?”

Byakuya can imagine his eyes tracing down his face, to the still-pink line on his jaw from this morning, and feels his face grow even warmer, with nothing to do with the open-flame stove not a meter away from him. “That. Is. Not. The. Point.” He hisses, emphasizing each word. “And - don’t call me that - you said we were here to get coffee.”

He spits these words like they’re poisonous, and Hagakure is still for a moment. He thinks that he’s managed to get his point across, but:

“Aww, Togster…you really did wanna get coffee with me?” Hagakure sounds genuinely touched, one hand pressed to his chest. Byakuya was about two seconds from throwing the stupid root vegetable in his hand against Hagakure’s equally stupid head. “We can have coffee after we make food. Besides, aren’t you sick of the meals we’ve been doing recently? Like I’m not a picky guy, but ramen and bread every day for the past few days is getting kinda…bleh, y’know?”

The worst part of this was that Byakuya agreed with him on that front. Even with his newfound habit of only eating when there was no one else around, or when Alter Ego threatened to stop reading for him until he took a meal, the selection was paltry to begin with and had only grown more unappealing with time.

“Your job is easy,” Hagakure continues, and grabs something hanging off the handle of a nearby oven, and drops it over his face, obscuring his vision for a moment. He jerks backwards in alarm as it settles to hang around his neck, only to realize that it’s an apron - a pale, mint-green thing that’s one size too small, with some still-visible stains splattered across it, and Hagakure had somehow gotten behind him and tied the thing in place already  - “You just gotta peel the potatoes, and I just gotta cut everything up. The roux’s already done, so all we gotta do is dump the ingredients in and let it do its thing.”

Byakuya is still reeling a little from being forced (though, there wasn’t much he could’ve done in protest, with both his hands occupied) into an apron. The things in his hands are so unfamiliar to him that they may as well be OOPart pieces in the making.

Besides him, Hagakure was whistling away, chopping meat with the silver blur of a large kitchen knife. Completely oblivious to anything around him; and Byakuya realized, he could leave right now if he wanted, and it wasn’t like the fortune-teller, of all people, could stop him.

He’s about to do just that when the other man looks up, knife stilling. “Something wrong?” He asks, with a tilt of his head. And before Byakuya could explain that, yes, there was something very wrong with this entire situation: “D’you need help?”

“No.” He says automatically, and immediately kicks himself for it.

“Oh, then-?”

“I don’t-” Byakuya says at the same time, and frowns sharply at the interruption. “I. Don’t do this sort of…thing.” It comes out a lot less assertive than he would like, and sounds a lot more pathetic than he means it to be.

“Oh. Well, yeah, I figured.” Hagakure shrugs, as he scoops up the mess of pink on the cutting board with the edge of his knife and drops it into a metal bowl. It lands with a loud, wet slap, and the bowl rings as it shakes against the counter. “No time to learn like the present though, right?”

Byakuya feels his eye twitch. In some ways, talking to Hagakure was more frustrating than negotiating with most white-collar businessmen, and more akin to arguing against a very enthusiastic wall. “I’m not supposed to do this kind of thing,” He tries again. “I’ve never had to prepare my own food in my life.”

It echoes what he told Makoto, that night he dragged Byakuya to the kitchen to prepare him a meal. But this time, it feels much less like a boast, and more like an admission. Like he couldn’t even do this much.

If Hagakure noticed the grimace passing over his face, he made no comment. Instead, he plucks the items out of Byakuya’s hands. “No time to learn like the present, my man.” He twirls the peeler between his fingers, and it spins, a foggy green circle. “It’s like a pattern, you pull the peeler down, turn it again, and repeat.” He demonstrates, hands moving quickly, with practiced ease. “Don’t worry if you miss anything. We don’t need it to be super clean, we just need most of the skin off.”

And he offers the peeler back to Byakuya, a gleam of white teeth on his face. Deceptively kind, poisonously pleasant. “Think you can handle that?”

Byakuya shoves his hand away, his patience thinning to a thread. “Take the hint,” He snaps, reaching behind himself to try and undo the knot. “I’m not doing this.”

“What? But it’s easy!”

“I don’t care,” He yanks at the ties, feels them come no closer to being loosened, and feels his face reddening with frustration, humiliation. He needs to leave, now. “I’m leaving.”

“Aw, Toga, come on-”

Byakuya reaches for the knife, left abandoned on the cutting board, and there’s a clatter as Hagakure backs himself against the ovens. “O-okay, okay, sure! Sure, jesus, okay!”

Byakuya rolls his eyes at the overreaction, already tuning him out, then starts awkwardly maneuvering the knife to try and cut the apron off. Arms twisting awkwardly to catch the bladed edge against the side of the knot. It’s not easy - he could swear, the blade seemed sharp enough when Hagakure was using it to dice meat, but now it slides clumsily against the twisted cotton, dull as a stone -

“Jesus,” Hagakure says again, but less panicked now that it was clear his life was under no immediate threat. “Okay, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I am not-”

“You totally are, man. Just - don’t slash me, please, and hold still -”

Hagakure gives him a wide, cautious berth, as if still worried he would suddenly turn into some violent, knife-swinging killer, edging until he’s out of Byakuya’s peripheral and standing behind him. A slight tug around his midsection later, and the apron is flapping loosely against his stomach.

To show his thanks, Byakuya sets the knife down before he pulls off the apron, not so much as handing it over as simply dropping it in the other boy’s direction.

He makes to leave, but Hagakure stops him - or tries to, throwing one hand out while scrambling to catch the apron with the other - “Wait, wait,” He still sounds jovial, but there’s a thin edge of nervousness to it now, residual after the earlier scare. “Listen, you don’t hafta help if you don’t want to, but like…can you just hang out? Here?”

“...You want me to stay. In the kitchen.” Where it was overly warm with a pot of water building into a steady boil, heavy with the smell of various condiments and spices, and pervaded by a general stickiness on the tile. “Why?”

“U-um, well…”

Byakuya sighs. He’s wasted too much time already. The coffee he was promised earlier was looking like a lost cause, and frankly, he wasn’t interested in eating anything anymore either. It would feel too much like accepting undue pity, somehow.

Apparently sensing his impatience, Hagakure finally blurts out: “Because-! I’m, um, scared! To be alone! So…”

Byakuya only stares. Even with his hair tied back, the shape of Hagakure’s head is still a round, dark splotch, albeit smaller than usual. And it bobs up and down like a dandelion as he ducks his head, hands clasped in an exaggerated plea. “Please, man, I literally can’t ask anyone else,” He begs. “Mondo’s all psyched-out and freaky serious now, Hifumi and Celeste were weirdos to begin with, and I’m sick of third-wheeling for Hina-chi and Saka-chi! And there’s no way I’m hanging out with Toko!”

He doesn’t mention Makoto or Kirigiri. Which, Byakuya assumes, makes sense, so he doesn’t bother to ask about it. “How do I know you aren’t trying to kill me,” He says instead, deadpan. 

Hagakure snorts. “Have you seen me?” And then immediately winces. “I mean - shit, sorry - but seriously, I’m pissing my pants every time Monokuma shows up. And at every crime scene, and every trial. You really think I could get over myself to off someone?”

“None of Monokuma’s motives struck a chord with you?”

“Well - I’d be lying if the first one didn’t make me nervous,” He nods. “But I divined how my parents were doing a bunch of times, and they were always alright, so that didn’t worry me too much. And the thing about secrets; well, mine is that I’m actually on the run from this yakuza boss I accidentally pissed off. I owe him a debt of eight million yen.”

Byakuya is certain he doesn’t miss the way Hagakure glances at him then, based on the way his ponytail twitches as his head turns imperceptibly. He decides to ignore the obvious bait, and moves on: “Fine, then. Then what’s your reasoning that I won’t try to kill you?”

“Oh.” Hagakure pauses. “...I didn’t, uh…think about that.”

Right. Byakuya can’t find it in him to be surprised about that either, though some bruised-up part of his pride does rail against the implication that he wasn’t dangerous. Like being blind meant he was harmless, helpless, defanged - he struggles against the implication, but only sickens himself more with the truth of it.

“I mean…do you want to kill me?”

Byakuya snorts. “I want to leave,” He leans back against the counter, feeling the hard, smooth edge of the marble dig against his back. “Obviously, I’m not crazy enough to spend the rest of my life here, waiting to kill or be killed.” He pauses. “And…I’ve been looking into possible causes for my…circumstance, and it’s looking more and more like it would require the work of a trained doctor, using specific equipment to resolve. Which this place,” He gestures around him. “Isn’t exactly equipped to handle.”

The other boy scratches his head. “Um, yeah. I mean I know that much. We all wanna get out and all, but like…do you want to kill someone to make that happen?”

Not in the slightest. He probably held responsibility for the deaths of multiple people at this point, but he had never had to kill them himself, nor witness the moment of their end. Dirtying his hands with someone else’s blood never appealed to him, and it was far more sophisticated to orchestrate someone else handling the messy work.

But his answer must show on his face, because Hagakure nods, satisfied. “Well, there you go! Also, I ran a divination on whether one of us would die today, and it’s not in the cards or the stars or divine intention, so we’re good!” He claps his hands. “Anyways. If you don’t wanna help, that’s all totally cool. All you gotta do is stick around.”

“You can’t be serious.” He scoffs. But he was getting sick of the earlier conversation - sick of talking about himself, sick of thinking about himself - so he stays where he is, crossing his arms as Hagakure busies himself with the ingredients. “How do your divinations even work, anyways?”

“What, you interested?” Hagakure flashes another white smile, and even through the haze Byakuya gets the impression that it’s a salesman grin. He could practically hear the cartoonish chime of a register. “My current going rate’s ten-million yen a reading, but for you I’ll throw in a buddy’s discount of twenty-percent!”

Byakuya gives him the most unimpressed look he can manage. “I’m not interested in wasting money on frivolities.”

“It’s not frivol-anything, man. They’re a hundred-percent legit! …Thirty-three-percent of the time,” He amends, sheepishly, at Byakuya’s withering stare. “But when they’re real, they’re real! With a hundred-percent accuracy!”

As he talks, his hands blur, moving with practiced ease. The small pile of potatoes changing from brown to pale yellow, to small, misshapen chunks, the green stalks of celery disintegrating under a knife, sharp-smelling and darkening the wood beneath it with its moisture. There’s a steady, fluid grace to it, and Byakuya watches on, feeling a sense of deja vu - faintly envious, partly entranced - the last he felt this way, he recalls, was being a child and watching his mother work in her studio, hewing faces out of stone.

He hasn’t thought about that memory in years, and he clicks his tongue sharply, irritated. Hagakure jumps at the sound. “M-maybe it’s more like a ninety-eight percent accuracy?” The fortune-teller tries, hurriedly. “Uh, it depends on how clearly I can convey it, I mean. Like how good the client is with understanding me…dialect differences and all that, though my English is pretty solid-”

“Why fortune-telling, anyways?” He cuts off Hagakure’s rambling. “I can’t imagine it’s an inherited position. You don’t seem the type to be taking up someone else’s legacy.”

“Oh! Well…” He turns to the pot, scrapes a bowl of brown slurry into its bubbling contents. “It was my dad who got me into it - not that he was a fortune teller or anything - but he knew stories about fortune tellers and priestesses and stuff, from where he grew up. It was pretty interesting, and I guess that’s what got me started.” He stirs, sniffs, tosses a handful of green shapes into the mix. “He actually bought me my first crystal ball, though it was just a cheap souvenir thing. I couldn’t’ve been older than, like, six or something.” He laughs. “Wow, I haven’t thought about this stuff in forever.”

“Am I dredging up bad memories?” Byakuya drawls, and Hagakure shakes his head.

“Nah, just old ones. But I got super into it; started begging my Ma to read me divination textbooks for bedtime, she thought I was going crazy. Dad just said it was normal for little kids to be a little crazy about something they like, though.” He shrugs. Another sniff, a sprinkle of red seasoning. “He was the first person I did an accurate divination for, actually. Like a real divination, not just for pretend.”

He goes quiet for a moment, wooden spoon scraping against the inside of the pot. Byakuya frowns. “And what did you ‘see’?” He asks, though only about half as sarcastic as he intended.

“Saw him in the hospital. And then leaving.” He replies simply. He turns, and scoops up the chopped ingredients in his hands, tossing them in with a hiss. “It was clear as day in that little glass ball, like I was watching a TV screen, except also kinda…I don’t know, wiggly? Like a dream. But I got shook up so bad I dropped it and broke the damn thing, and the next day my Dad went to the doctor for a check-up, and they shipped him to the hospital right after. Some genetic, hereditary thing, they wouldn’t even tell me what it was. I think Ma thought it’d freak me out if I knew, but I was just more freaked out not knowing.”

He reaches blindly behind him, searching hand patting at the counter, the cutting board. Byakuya hesitates, then grabs the bowl of chopped meat and passes it over. Its contents splash into the pot. “Thanks. Anyways, the weirdest thing was that I wasn’t, like, scared he was gonna die, or anything. For some reason I knew he was gonna make it, but I was more worried that he was gonna…hurt? Get even worse?” He pauses. “I kept on doing divinations afterwards with a tarot card set, just to see how he was doing, and each time it told me he was gonna be fine.”

His voice sounds a little thick, indistinct. Byakuya was beginning to regret bringing up this topic; he would hate it if he was suddenly expected to have to comfort a grown man. But instead of bursting into tears, Hagakure leans to the side, tucks his face into his elbow, and sneezes, gunshot loud. “Phew! Jeez, the paprika.” He sniffs, and Byakuya’s unease turns back into a comfortable sort of annoyance. “Anyways. Where was I…?”

“...Your father.” He hesitates for a moment. “When he passed away.”

“When he-?” Hagakure turns fully away from the pot to stare at him, mouth open, before breaking into a laugh. Doubling over so and wheezing like he just got punched. “Dude! No way, are you- did you really think that?!”

“What? Am I wrong?” Byakuya feels his face heating red again, with nothing to do with the steam. “Shut up. The way you were talking about it, you were acting like he kicked the bucket,” He snaps, and Hagakure stifles another laugh. “It’s the logical progression of things. You saw him get sick and die, and then-”

“No, no, dude, I said I saw him in the hospital, and then leave - oh, yeah, I guess I can see how you’d think that now.” He stands up straight again, swiping a hand across his face. “Oh man. No, I meant ‘leave’ as in literally leaving, like at an airport? He got better and swung back around, but got a job offer overseas right after, so he never really came back to settle permanently in Japan.” He turns back to the pot, turning the heat down low. “He sends postcards for me all the time, and he and Ma vacation together every year around the holidays.”

So that was it. Byakuya feels an irrational surge of exasperation, as if all his previous pity had just been wasted. “What does he even do? Your father?”

“He teaches quantum mechanics.” At Byakuya’s stunned expression, he snorts. “What, I’m not kidding! He test-runs all his lectures and speeches and stuff to me, and now I know way more about that stuff than I think most people ever need to!”

‘Prove it’ is on the tip of Byakuya’s tongue, but he holds back. He probably would never recover if Hagakure did somehow manage it and make him look like a fool. Hagakure stirs the pot in silence for a moment longer, before asking: “What about you?”

“What?”

“Your parents.” A shot of cold immediately runs down his spine. “Like, I know your dad’s a big rich unmarried bachelor hotshot, but what about your mom? Ah- ” Hagakure presses hand to his mouth. “She…is she, like…?”

“She’s not dead, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.” He replies, stiffly. “We’re estranged.”

“O-oh. Um. I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine.” He pauses, looks down at the tile floor. It was a mutual disavowment, around the time he made the decision to try for Togami heir. She was relieved to be rid of him, he was sure, and he was glad to be out of her house full of stone statues and hollow eyes. “I haven’t been in contact with her for several years. We’re as good as strangers.”

He really should just leave it at that. There’s no reason to elaborate any further, nor does he want to; he glares down at his feet, trying to count the tiles, and watches as the dark lines dividing them squiggle and disappear the moment he loses focus. And finds his mouth moving against his will. “My mother is Genevieve Delasol.”

“Cool.” A pause. “Wait, what!?”

Byakuya scowls and looks away as Hagakure turns back to him. “Like, the Delasol?! World-famous artist lady? With the sculptures? Miss Modern Michelangelo?!”

“Don’t call her that.” She had always hated that stupid nickname that the press forced on her, and so did he, though not for her benefit. It was a tasteless, and frankly disrespectful moniker. “But yes. Her.”

“Dude…” There’s awe in his voice, as if it were something impressive. “That’s crazy.”

“It’s not. She birthed me like any other human.”

“Still! Like, they talked about her in my elementary school art class. Her stuff is so-” He splays his fingers near his head, puffs his cheeks to mimic the sound of an explosion. “Like, I remember seeing pictures of her stuff for the first time, and it freaked me out. One of the older kids in the neighborhood told me she was freezing people into rock, that’s how real her stuff looks.”

“She’s a good artist, but she was an awful mother.” Byakuya says flatly, immediately draining the rest of Hagakure’s enthusiasm. “We’re not continuing his conversation.”

“Right, right. Um. Sorry.” He taps his fingers against the spoon, ladles some of it into a little dish to taste. “Okay, um. Could you pass me some dishes? From that cabinet in front of you - to the left - yeah, thanks.”

The concoction he scoops into the shallow dishes Byakuya hands him is…unappealing. At least visually - a muddy brown sludge that glops thickly off of his ladle - but it smells good, spicy and warm. One of the bowls is passed back, and there’s a conflict of sensation as Byakuya tries to decide if he’s hungry enough to risk it, something that he couldn’t even clearly oversee the process of making.

“You’re surprisingly well-versed in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, well. I get into hot water a lot when my fortunes don’t work out, especially with my, uh…higher class clients, so I had to get used to taking care of myself. Didn’t wanna bother my parents with it, ya know?” He flicks off the stove, covers the pot, and reaches to the right for the rice cooker. Opens it with a sharp smack to the lid. “Like, I don’t think I’ve seen my dad face-to-face in…it feels like two years. Maybe longer.”

He holds out his hand. Byakuya passes over his bowl, and he plops some rice into the center of it, before handing it back.

“I can’t finish this much.”

“Sure you can, you’re a growing guy.” There’s the roll of a drawer being pulled open, then a clatter before a spoon is being dropped into his bowl as well. “You better eat all of it, by the way. Every grain of rice has seven gods, so you gotta eat them all so you don’t get cursed.”

“...What kind of saying is that?”

“Dunno, but my Ma used to say it all the time. Come on, let’s go into the caf-”

He halts suddenly, halfway to the door. Byakuya nearly runs into his back, and just barely keeps from spilling his bowl. “What-”

“Um. Hold on.” The previous casualness of his voice is gone, and there’s a hard thread of unease running through it again. “Uh…wait out here for a moment, okay?”

“Why-”

“Dude, please. Just for a moment.” He sets his bowl down on the counter. “I’ll be right back.”

And then he’s out the door before Byakuya can make any protest, leaving him alone in the kitchen, now uncomfortably quiet without the soft hiss of the stove. He stands there, stunned, feeling a little bit stung - no, irked - at the sudden dismissal.

He wasn’t about to take orders from Hagakure, regardless of whatever weird pseudo-symbiotic-relationship the other boy thought they had going on. He walks towards the door, moving to elbow it open-

“I’m telling you, just leave him alone.”

He freezes, ducking his head down. Hagakure’s voice is high and scratchy with nervousness, but firm despite that. “For the last time-”

“I-I-I-” Someone else stutters. The voice is familiar, and Byakuya feels his gut drop in recognition. The last he heard it, it was seething with malice, spit like venom at his feet. “I j-just wanna l-look at him…”

Hagakure lets out a long-suffering sigh, indicating that this wasn’t the first time he’s had to deal with this. “Seven hells, Toko, I really don’t get you,” He grumbles. “You said you hated him, right? I mean, you said so at the trial, and you did…all that.” He coughs. “He wasn’t interested to begin with, and there’s really no way to turn it around after that.”

“I-It was t-to prove that we’re th-the same!” Fukawa shrieks, trigger-sudden and indignant. There’s a sharp thump as she stomps her foot, hard enough to rattle some nearby furniture. “If I d-didn’t do that, he w-would’ve never a-accepted what h-happened to him!”

Byakuya frowns at that, and sets the bowl aside in favor of sinking into a half-crouch, ear pressing up against the door, beneath the tiny window. What was she talking about? Not accepting my own condition? Don’t I know myself better than anyone else?

“That’s not up to you to decide,” Hagakure starts.

“I-It’s not up t-to you to p-protect him either!” She spits back. “Y-you’ve been keeping him a-away from me recently, wh-what’s with you? D-did you have some k-kind of awakening, or something?!”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that my type is none of your business - and anyways, ain’t it logical to wanna keep away from you?” He grumbles, then yelps. “C-calm down-! I just mean - you know, you…you don’t exactly give off warm and fuzzy feelings about hanging out with people!”

Toko barks a laugh, shrill and mirthless. “Wh-which makes him perfect for me,” And Byakuya feels disgust roll down his back. “I-I know I’m m-miserable, a-and unfriendly and unloveable,”

“Hey,” Hagakure says, a little more gently than before.

“B-but s-so is he! H-he’s just b-better at hiding it, p-pretending to be a, a perfect, white-horse prince,” She spits the words vehemently. “I-if he was p-perfect, th-then maybe, I c-could just be s-satisfied with - with being n-near him, with b-being used…”

She trails off. Byakuya fights the urge to physically cringe at the mere suggestion, instead gritting his teeth, nails scratching lightly against the door’s tacky surface. “B-but, he’s not perfect. S-so, that means I c-can reach him - i-it’s possible for someone l-like m-me to actually be with him,” She giggles, and the sound is far too childishly delighted to suit her mouth, and far too chilling to have innocent intentions behind it. “I-I dragged him off his p-pedestal, s-so now I can actually touch him.”

It’s vile, listening to her. The sound feels like a filth that clings to him, sliding into his ears, contaminating him from the inside out. Poisoning him, paralyzing him.

He’s only vaguely aware of his body sliding down lower, unable to maintain the awkward pose, curled over and unable to brace himself properly against the swinging door. He sinks into a squat, ears straining.

“...Um, ew.” Hagakure mutters succinctly. “Okay, first of all, no you can’t. Pretty sure Monokuma would have some problems about that, he’s all gung-ho about decency and stuff. Second, Toga’s still not gonna be into you. You blew that chance when you, uh…”

“When I w-what? S-strung up Chihiro?” She snorts. “H-he would’ve done the s-same if h-he was a-actually as perfect as h-he said.”

The contamination sinks deeper, claws curling cruelly into his chest. I would have never, He thinks through the tinny, lightheaded hum in his skull, but there’s a sickening sense of dread that twists in his stomach as he realizes he can’t even be sure of that. He might have. He would’ve had no use for Chihiro if he wasn’t blind, he would have barely even hesitated if the opportunity was there - to defile someone else’s corpse for nothing more than his own self-righteousness.

He’s probably had this realization already, but it’s revolting to hear it come from Fukawa. He should go out there, tell her to shut up, to leave him be-

“-a-and anyways, y-you still didn’t t-tell me why y-you’re so obsessed with p-protecting him.” She’s still saying, distantly, and it feels as if the door is suddenly several times thicker than it was previously, muffling the sound dramatically. “Y-you don’t have a-anything in c-common, I don’t s-see why you’d want t-to be near him, u-unless…y-you’re doing it for someone else, aren’t y-you?”

Hagakure doesn’t respond. Makes no sound to confirm or deny it. Byakuya waits, ringing intensifying, disease festering into his lungs. It was getting hard to breathe. His pulse thrums in his ears, too loud to think, not nearly loud enough to drown their voices out.

“I s-saw you with Makoto,” She continues, and the confirmation of Byakuya’s suspicion does nothing to make him feel better. “He- he asked you t-to do this, right? To protect him, h-how nice,” She snarls, disgusted. “L-looking out for his p-precious boyfriend, when he won’t d-do it himself-”

“That’s…that’s not it,” Hagakure protests, but he doesn’t sound convincing, voice so hesitant and soft that Byakuya barely catches it. “Mako-chi’s just…busy, right now-”

“Y-yeah, too busy trying to g-get out of here so Byakuya c-can get fixed, so he can s-stop f-feeling guilty - h-he doesn’t want to have to look at him, b-but he can’t help s-sticking his nose in anyways, he’s s-so sweet it makes me sick.” Byakuya legs shake, cramping, but he forces himself still, keeps his ear flattened to the door despite the nausea building in his gut, the light-headedness in his temples - “B-but it’s too much work t-to comfort him or drag him a-around, s-so he has to get s-someone to do it, right?”

He wouldn’t, is Byakuya’s immediate thought, but it’s weak, even in his own head. Makoto hasn’t sought him out all since that night in the bathhouse because Byakuya had requested it; had demanded that he leave him alone with as much vitriol and firmness as he could muster, and as with so many other things, Makoto had obeyed. But while Fukawa’s words are acerbic and biting, they’re also painfully, terribly logical.

He wonders now, how he must have looked to the others. Slowly falling apart, barely eating, rarely showing his face. So utterly different from how he tried to portray himself at first, an ill-fitted facsimile of how he used to be, how he should be; it’s no wonder Makoto would go behind his back to take care of him. Between disobeying him again and trying to keep him alive, the choice must have been easy.

The fact that that choice had to be made at all, however, made Byakuya want to…

There’s a thud as his legs finally give out, his knees smashing against the tile, but he hardly notices. Not while the sickness spreads, a physical decay in his torso eating away at him, swift and insatiable. He’s not hungry anymore, but he feels emptier than he’s ever been. 

The door swings open suddenly, bumping against his shoulder, and he sways, unsteady. Hands reach out, catching him before he can fall over.

“Whoa, hey,” Hagakure sounds muffled, underwater. He hooks his hands beneath Byakuya’s arms, trying to pull him upright, and only then does Byakuya realize that he’s not really breathing. Probably hasn’t been for the past few minutes. “Toga- I mean- you okay?” 

Of course not, he wants to snap, but talking would mean opening his mouth, and that would mean breaking down into tears like a petulant infant, so he clamps his mouth shut and tries to get as much oxygen as he can through his nose. Slow, stuttered, wheezing breaths, teeth sinking into raw, just-healing skin and breaking it bloody all over again. He leans away from Hagakure’s grip as much as possible and tries to brace himself against the wall, shaky hands against the cool bumps of the tile. Trying to count them, one by one.

“I,” He manages to grit out when he was marginally more calm, ignoring Hagakure’s worried clucking. His voice quavers, and he swallows hard around the shrapnel lodged in his throat. “I’m going to go.”

“Dude, come on-”

He lurches forward, clumsily dodging Hagakure’s attempts to support him, and walks as steadily as he can out of the kitchen. The moment he crosses the open space of the cafeteria and into the hallway, he breaks into a sprint for his room. As far away from prying eyes as he can manage.

__

(When he opens his door later that night, he finds a plastic container and a spoon sitting by the threshold, its contents long cold.)

(He eats it anyways and scrapes it clean, and leaves it sitting empty outside of his door again.)

< previous - from start - next >

[kotton-kandy953]

What yandere themed songs do you associate with some of your favorite yan danganronpa boys?

━ 𝚂𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙴

➛ yandere!male headcannons × fem/gn!reader

title page┆word count: 0.3k┆warnings: second-person pronouns, manipulation, murder, obsessive behavior, yandere themes┆a/n: I barley post abt byakuya so I had to put him in the banner

dr boys and their yandere ! songs x g/n ! reader

➤ 𝐃𝐑𝟏

ᯓᡣ𐭩 MAKOTO N.

❝ I want to go on walks with you, I want to have long talks with you ❞

I Want To Be Your Boyfriend - Hot Freaks

this isn't exactly a "yandere" song (I think) but it's Makoto-core I guess

Makoto would be more a "soft yandere." or a yandere who doesn't want to kill off "threats." He just wants you to love him back.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 BYAKUYA T.

❝ told her, ‘pick out any bag, it’s not too much’ ❞

Wet Dreams — Odetari ft. Nimstarr

He’s rich asf

Byakuya would be an overprotective and possessive yandere. Only wanting to protect you from anyone and everything that could possibly hurt or harm you.

➤ 𝐒𝐃𝐑𝟐

ᯓᡣ𐭩 HAJIME H.

❝ they don’t love you like I do ❞

Love Taste - Jamie Paige ft. Moe Shop, Shiki

He'd be like super overprotective and possessive as a yandere as well. Quite similar to Byakuya but not exactly like him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 NAGITO K.

❝ I just can’t function without you ❞

Functioning Alcoholic - Odetari

I feel like Nagito is so crazy and obsessive that he can’t go seconds without being with you. Hence this song being picked for him

➤ 𝐃𝐑𝐕𝟑

ᯓᡣ𐭩 SHUICHI S.

❝ you’re so upset with me but I’m so obsessed with you ❞

I’m so crazy for youuu </3 - Rebzyyx

It was either this or "all I want is you" by Rebzyyx

According to my own personal beliefs, Shuichi would be an over-obsessive and delusional yandere. Like Nagito but toned down 1,000%

ᯓᡣ𐭩 KOKICHI O.

❝ If I can’t have you, baby no one else in this world can ❞

Jealous Girl - Lana Del Rey

I could NOT decide on a song for his lying ass

Due to his compulsive lying, it would be easy for Kokichi to manipulate you. Especially if you both were close friends. And not to mention that he'd be hella jealous of anyone you seem fond of. Platonically or Romantically.

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[teletogami]

long time no see! it’s me! kat!

nostalgia chapter 67 is up. sorry for the long wait. here’s the moodboard:

[feitan-cl]

Fanart from @scribbleteaaa 's one-shot fanfic 'Cultural Relevance' bc i couldn't resist the usge to thomas jefferson miku binderify Makoto Naegi

I added some headcanons (melanin, an inch, etc) and references to other ScribbleTea's naegami one-shots :)

With blanket (click for better quality)

Without blanket bc i drew the arms first and liked them way too much to hide them entirely

Idk how i managed to finish this so quickly yet according to ibis paint is the longest one it took me if it was in one sitting (10 hrs)

The naegami brainrot is very real, they're now my roman empire

Bonus: very shitty doodle of Byakuya suffering at Mondo's birthday in 'Scissors and Sweatshirts' :3

[zenonaa]

Fandom: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Dangan Ronpa Series Rating: Mature Relationships: Fukawa Toko/Togami Byakuya Characters: Togami Byakuya, Fukawa Toko, Naegi Makoto, Kirigiri Kyoko, Hagakure Yasuhiro, Asahina Aoi (Dangan Ronpa), Ogami Sakura, Ishimaru Kiyotaka, Yamada Hifumi, Celestia Ludenberg Additional Tags: Togafuka Week, there's some heavy making out and talk of sex Summary: After three people are inflicted with the despair disease, Fukawa finds herself being a nurse to a very lovey-dovey Togami.

Comments: Finally finished last year’s togafuka week. :’) Day 7: AU! Went for despair disease, as I don’t think I’ve ever done one for the dr1 cast.

💖 Please like, reblog, leave kudos and/or comment on AO3 💖

***

Hands pinned Touko’s wrists to the bed like shackles, but she had no desire to break free. Byakuya’s half-naked body loomed over her, his blond hair bouncing as he shifted. His strong thighs straddled her, firm as tree trunks, rooted to the mattress. Tremors rocked her hands, desperate to run over his curves, pert nipples and heavily defined six pack. How she longed to slather her palms in the sweat gleaming on his chest and lick it off herself until her fingers pruned.

“Touko...” Her name sang from his lips. A shiver coursed through her as his voice melted on her skin, sinking through to pool in her lower gut. She rubbed her thighs together. Groaned. He hadn’t touched her yet, and already she was suffocating in lust.

And he knew it. His eyes twinkled as he opened his perfect mouth to speak again.

“Attention! Emergency!” Monobear’s shrill voice rang out. “All students must come to the gymnasium immediately. Oh dear, dear, dear...!”

Static crackled. Only for a second, but it cut deep enough. In the blink of an eye, Byakuya vanished. So did the bed. Touko jolted back hard enough to nearly overbalance her chair. She yelped and steadied herself, then gritted her teeth. Of all the times for that cursed bear to demand their attention, it had to be when she was getting into her writing zone for the first time since being trapped in this school.

The notebook page where she had been detailing her tryst with Byakuya now bore a jagged line. A harsh furrow dug into her brow as she bit on the end of her thumb. But as much as she wanted to continue writing, she also didn’t want Monobear to barge in and drag her to the gymnasium. How undignifying! Her skirt would probably ride up and show her panties to everyone. Only Byakuya was allowed to see them. When he was ready, of course. And her too. Perhaps she could wear red lingerie when the time came.

But that would have to wait. Touko couldn’t think of anything less sexy than that demented bear, though most of the guys in her class were close runners up. Byakuya was leagues above them. Above everyone. Leaving her notebook on her desk, Touko headed to the gymnasium, where most of the others had already gathered.

She kept her distance from them.

“What could Monobear want with us?” asked Aoi, as if it wasn’t obvious.

Yasuhiro scratched his head. “You don’t think he’s going to give us another... y’know?”

They all knew. Except maybe Kiyotaka, but it was impossible to tell if any thought passed through his mind these days. Ever since Mondo had been executed, Kiyotaka’s eyes had turned vacant and he’d barely said a word. Whatever, if anything, was going on in his head was veiled in mystery.

“What could they do that was worse than last time?” asked Hifumi, mopping his brow with a handkerchief.

Touko’s insides twisted. Surely whatever motive Monobear had planned couldn’t be worse than the last one. That had been a video game adaption of a murder, only for the first person to beat the game to learn that the culprit had actually been Mondo Oowada, and the victim had been his brother, Daiya. The only way it could have been even more horrific was if it had been an anime adaptation. Or fanfiction.

Ultimately, the game was unbeatable, with them only learning from Monobear about the game's killer at the end of the murder trial, but Mondo figured out the game was about him. When Chihiro approached him, asking for help to be strong, Mondo murdered Chihiro in a fit of rage, thinking Chihiro had beat the game. Shortly after, Byakuya found the murder scene and rearranged it to look like the work of Genocider Syo. Though Touko had felt betrayed at the time, at least now Syo couldn't kill anybody here. Everyone would always suspect her first. It was one less thing to worry about.

Byakuya was so considerate of Touko, really.

Monobear popped up from behind the podium and put its hands onto its hips after it landed on top of it. “I didn’t bring you here to give you another motive to kill. You're all so paranoid.”

“So why are we here?” asked Byakuya, a hand on his hip. “No one has been murdered.”

As astute as always. Touko smiled toward him and placed a hand over her heart. His gaze didn’t stray from Monobear.

“I called you here to issue you an apology,” announced Monobear, bowing its head and holding its paws behind its back.

“It’s too late for that,” said Makoto shakily. “Five of us have already been killed. No amount of apologies will undo their passing.”

“What? No. I’m not apologising for that.” Monobear screwed a paw against its ear. “I didn’t kill anyone. They all brought about their own deaths. I wanted to apologise because I have only recently noticed that some of the Monofleas from my circus escaped my pickle jar.”

Touko felt her brow contort. “Pickle... jar?”

“Circus?” said Aoi, equally confused. Most of the class looked at each other.

“That’s not what you should be concerned about,” said Byakuya, glaring at Monobear. “What the hell is a Monoflea?”

Whatever it was, it sounded cruel. Fleas only lived for a few months, and those that were deemed suitable for a circus would have wire tied around their bodies, leashing them for the rest of their short lives. But that wasn’t the worst fate they could have. Some were glued to miniature instruments on a miniature circus ring. What humans perceived as them playing an instrument was really them trying to escape. The owner could even heat up the enclosure to make them squirm more.

Touko knew all this because some boys in elementary school once found her talking to her stink bug on the playground. They had told her to do that with her, and Touko had become curious how it was done so researched it. Not that she would ever submit her darling Kameko to such torture. She had wanted to know how the fleas were made to do what their owners wanted. Why they stayed despite the horrendous treatment. The same behaviour could be seen in humans. Her mothers, for example.

“What? Can’t a bear have a hobby?” asked Monobear.

“I thought torturing us was your hobby,” said Kyouko.

Monobear flung its arms up angrily. “Being a headteacher is my job, not a hobby.”

Kyouko didn’t flinch. It lowered its arms and seemed to deflate.

“Anyway, I checked my jar and they had all escaped. I must have not screwed the lid on properly.”

“And you’re telling us why?” asked Makoto.

“Tone down the sass. It’s not a good look on you,” said Monobear, wagging a paw. “Maybe I wanted some sympathy, huh?”

Silence. Monobear sighed and began to mime kicking its foot against an imaginary tin can.

“... The truth is Monofleas carry a disease that though it does not affect bears, it gives humans a high fever along with other despairy symptoms,” explained Monobear. “They were in my jar around lunchtime, so they could have potentially been free for hours... roaming around... contaminating you all...”

Unease rippled through the students. Some straightened, like Celes and Byakuya. Others hunched over, like Yasuhiro, who also began mumbling a prayer under his breath. Touko pressed her fist against her mouth. Her skin crawled as if the fleas were writhing underneath it.

“There’s no such thing,” said Byakuya.

His voice washed over Touko, and she found herself able to breathe easily again. Of course this was one of Monobear’s tricks, like the video game from last time or when it claimed it would return their missing memories if they killed one another. Thank goodness Byakuya was there to remind her. To reassure her.

“The symptoms won’t show right away, so we can’t know for sure who has the despair disease yet,” said Monobear.

“How long will the symptoms take to become apparent?” asked Kyouko, and Touko’s relieved grin almost wavered. Byakuya was the smartest person present, but Touko had to begrudgingly admit that Kyouko wasn’t an idiot. Was she weird? Yes. Creepy? Pretty? Definitely. But not an idiot.

“Let’s see...” Monobear whipped out a pocket watch from behind its back. Touko did not want to think about where it had been storing the device. It held it up in front of its face. “If my Monofleas escaped a few hours ago, you should start feeling the effects right about... now.”

A loud gasp punctuated Monobear’s sentence almost immediately. Kiyotaka fell to one knee, almost doubling over. His body shook as he hugged himself with one arm, wheezing through gritted teeth. 

“Ishimaru-kun!” Makoto ran over and extended a hand toward Kiyotaka’s shoulder. “Are you...?”

But before Makoto’s hand could reach him, Kiyotaka smacked it away. Makoto stumbled back with a cry. He hadn’t yet regained his balance when a white light suddenly engulfed Kiyotaka, blinding Touko and the others momentarily. She shielded her face with her arm and scrunched her eyes shut as a wave of heat blasted across her.

Somewhere nearby, Yasuhiro screamed.

A few seconds passed before Touko lowered her arm and blinked. Kiyotaka was now standing tall.

He also had white hair. And red electricity seemed to spark from his eyes.

“Ishimaru Kiyotaka-dono has gone full Super Saiyan!” Hifumi exclaimed, covering his mouth with one hand.

“Wazzat you said, you fucker?” Kiyotaka cracked his knuckles. “Anime references are against the rules. You wanna throw down? I’ll take you on, fuckcabbage!”

Hifumi shrieked and hid behind Sakura, who looked absolutely baffled.

“It seems Ishimaru has taken on a whole new personality,” she remarked.

“Hey! Fuckfudge!” Kiyotaka pointed at her now. “Clear your fucking ears out and listen. Kyoudai’s soul has taken residence in this vessel, combining to create me... Kiyondo Ishida!”

As loud and obnoxious as the self-proclaimed Kiyondo was, he didn’t try to make a move on Sakura beyond screaming at her. Touko doubted he would have been a match for her even with the combined strength of Kiyotaka and Mondo. Not that Touko would put it past him to try - the guy seemed utterly delusional. Though Sakura didn’t appear to intend on fighting him, as dumbfounded as most of the others.

Aoi yawned. “Whatever.”

That brought Sakura out of her stupor. “Asahina?”

“I’m bored. Can we go now?”

Not a flicker of emotion crossed Aoi’s features. She showed no concern about Kiyondo threatening Sakura. No anger at Monobear, who watched what was happening with its usual stupid grin. There was no anything with her, just a slack expression and flat voice. After a moment of hesitation, Sakura rested a hand against Aoi’s forehead.

Her brow creased. “Warm... Could this be...?”

“It's the despair disease! It’s made Asahina-chi totally disinterested, and Ishimaru-chi into an anime character,” shouted Yasuhiro, clutching either side of his head.

“W-What?” Makoto trembled. “How’s that even possible?”

This had to be a ploy by Monobear to inspire them to kill again, one that Aoi and Kiyotaka were privy to. Yes, that was it, because despair disease didn’t exist like Byakuya said. Touko told herself that she wasn’t feeling ill. Her head spun and her heart raced because of the madness of it all, not because she was sick. Maybe. Not yet, at least.

She tucked her elbows into her sides and backed away, shuffling her feet against the ground.

“None of you come anywhere near me,” she warned, voice shrill. “I d-don’t want to catch whatever...”

Her next step backward bumped her into someone. With a gasp, Touko jolted forward, losing balance in the process, but before she could fall onto her face, an arm swerved around, catching her. A surprised yelp popped out of her, then another as her body was pushed back, into another arm that tipped her so she was leaning back and staring up at the face of the person who had saved her.

“B-Byakuya-sama?”

It was his arm that had intercepted her fall. His arm that was wrapped around her now, holding her, cradling her.

“I apologise, my darling river maiden. I didn't mean to startle you,” he said, staring deeply into her eyes. “Are you all right?”

She swallowed thickly. It looked like him. It sounded like him. It - she sniffed a few times - smelled like him. Faintly citrus and... she believed she caught a note of sandalwood. Whilst his aroma had blessed her nose before, she had never experienced it this strongly. Probably because they had never been this close before. They were practically sharing the same air.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, light-headed.

He straightened, pulling her upright, keeping her close to his body. One of his hands slipped up to her cheek, and her knees wobbled. Had he not had his other hand on her waist, she may well have crumpled to the floor.

The corners of his eyes crinkled a little as he smiled. Smiled at her. Then he delivered the fatal blow.

“Excuse me for staring,” he said.  “You’re just so alluring.”

She gargled.

“We don’t need to feel his forehead to know he’s burning up,” said Celes, but Touko reached a hand up anyway. Hot.

“Yeah, the real Togami-chi would never say stuff like that,” said Yasuhiro.

“He has become comic relief.” Hifumi pressed his knuckles against his mouth. “W-What will become of us, Hagakure Yasuhiro-dono?”

Touko’s brow pinched. “S-Shut up...”

Hifumi had some nerve claiming Byakuya had become such a ghastly character trope, especially when one took into account his own pathetic personality. And it wasn’t even true. Nothing about Byakuya was humorous. He gazed at her with such seriousness, such tenderness. Her heart stuttered as the air around him seemed to turn rosy and glitter. In his arms, there was no Monobear or Killing Game or parents waiting to be sent a cheque so they would continue to leave her alone. There was just them, in this moment.

“Ignore that oversized half-wit,” said Byakuya. “Only we know the secrets that our eyes and hearts share. I am Byakuya Togami, and I am yours.”

His thumb gently twitched against her cheek. She shivered. In the corner of her vision, she glimpsed Celes looking visibly ill. No doubt she was jealous. Normally, Touko would have shot her a glare, or scoffed how Celes didn’t understand true love, but for once Touko pitied her.

“Upupupu...” Monobear brought its paws to its unmoving mouth. “This is quite the predicament. Also, I checked all of your medical reports before arriving here, and Fukawa-san is totally immune to the despair disease. Maybe it’s because her existence is already full of despair.”

“Ruffian!” Byakuya snapped, sounding more like his usual self. “Do not speak ill of my pookie porkchop!”

Touko squealed delightedly. “Oink, oink, oink...!”

“Pet names are forbidden, assfuck!” Kiyondo shouted. His eyebrows burst into flames, but they didn’t seem to cause him any pain, even as they continued burning. Their sudden appearance made Makoto jump, but no one else paid them any real attention.

“I’m gonna have to take Ishida-chi’s side on this one,” said Yasuhiro, crossing his arms with a grimace. “I’m gonna have nightmares for weeks after hearing that come out of Togami-chi’s mouth.”

“Upupupu!” Monobear laughed into its paws. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but...”

“You can’t leave! You’ve got to fix them!” Makoto exclaimed, sweeping out an arm while Aoi picked her nose and Byakuya flicked his head back, blond hair fluttering.

“Do I look like a doctor to you? Or a Super High School Level Nurse with big boobs and an uneven haircut?” asked Monobear. “I don’t even have opposable thumbs. I’ve got to go find my monofleas. Monodam? Monophanie? Where are you...”

A loud creak sounded. Monobear jumped down to behind the podium. That noise always preceded Monobear’s exit, and as Makoto ran to the podium, Touko knew he had no chance of catching up to it.

The grim expression that sagged his face when he got there confirmed this.

“Now what?” he asked.

Hifumi, Yasuhiro and Celes ignored him, roasting marshmallows on the fire that had ignited on Kiyondo’s eyebrows. Aoi started walking away.

“Asahina, where are you going?” asked Sakura.

“Bed,” said Aoi with a shrug, continuing to walk away. “Laters.”

“I do not think it’s a good idea for you to be alone,” said Sakura. “You are unwell...”

“And potentially contagious,” added Kyouko.

Yasuhiro and Hifumi froze, then dropped their marshmallow sticks and jolted back. Celes lowered hers calmly.

“Then perhaps we should lock them up,” suggested Celes.

“If they are unwell, they should go to the infirmary,” said Kyouko. “We can take turns looking after them... but we will have to ensure we are properly protected so we don’t get infected.”

Byakuya tore his hands away from Touko, but before his warmth could burn away, he darted behind her and wrapped his arms around her. A delighted shudder gushed through Touko leaving her body in a squeal.

“Hell shall freeze over before I share a room with any of you vermin. I refuse to be taken care of by anyone except my winter princess!”

“Y-Yes! I’ll be the one to nurse Byakuya-sama back to full health,” said Touko with a fervent nod. She could already imagine it. Her, wearing a nurse outfit, blowing on hot chicken soup before spooning it into Byakuya’s gaping mouth hole... In and out, in and out... sweat dripping from his face...

“Are we sure Fukawa is healthy? She has gone very red,” said Sakura.

“Red is not dresscode approved, fucklegs!” barked Kiyondo.

“Naw. That’s just Fukawa-chi being her usual disturbing self,” said Yasuhiro, grimacing.

Kyouko shook her head.

“Arguing won’t go anywhere. Fukawa-san is more than welcome to provide exclusive care to Togami-kun in his room.”

Touko hunched her shoulders, glaring. “If Byakuya-sama doesn’t want...”

The rest of Touko’s rebuff turned to ash in her mouth as Kyouko’s words sank in. Her lips twitched as her brain struggled to form a new sentence, replaying what Kyouko had suggested over and over again. Up to this point, she had never even seen inside Byakuya’s room. Now, she would be in there... taking care of him... just the two of them... alone... together...

Brisk footsteps broke Touko's train of thought as Kyouko walked over. Byakuya’s arms tightened around Touko, on-guard.

“Be careful, Fukawa-san,” said Kyouko.

“I would never hurt...” Byakuya started, only for Kyouko to continue talking as if he hadn’t spoken.

“Monobear may have been lying about you being immune, and we do not know how transmittable this disease is.” Kyouko’s gaze was trained on Touko’s face. “If you were to get sick as well, you would not be able to take proper care of Togami-kun. In fact, the disease may make you hate him.”

Touko's eyes widened. For her to hate Byakuya despite his many objectively amazing qualities would mean she had turned not only into a completely different person but a monster. An idiotic one at that. Kyouko inclined her head forward, keeping her eyes on Touko.

“Wear personal protective equipment,” said Kyouko.

“Fear not,” said Byakuya, hugging Touko even closer. “We’ll use protection.”

***

Upon entering Byakuya’s room, Touko stepped onto a length of red carpet that crossed all the way to the far wall. She was almost tempted to take her shoes off so she didn’t bring in any dirt, but her desire to see the rest of his room won out. The further in she padded, the more details studded her vision. Paintings hung either side of her, of scenery and flower vases. A large wooden stand rested on a floor cabinet, boasting ten identical pairs of white glasses. On the desk was a coin collector’s box.

When she reached the middle of the room, she stopped. Breathed. Trembled. She really was in Byakuya Togami’s bedroom.

“This is what dreams are made of!” Byakuya announced, appearing at her side. He cupped her chin and gently turned her head toward him. “This space is as much yours as I am yours, my twin-braided goddess.”

A pout perched on his lips as he batted his lashes at her. Touko’s face scorched. She would permanently be bright pink if he kept talking like this. 

“R-Really, I’m the one honoured to be here with you...!” Touko said.

“I would trust no one else to take care of me. They would spit in my medicine, the scum.”

Touko nodded, though if he asked her to do that, she would have been more than happy to oblige. 

“Y-You should lie down, Byakuya-sama,” she said, but after the day she had experienced so far, she felt like she was the one who needed to lie down. So much had happened. She couldn't do that, though. Not when she was supposed to be looking after him.

“Astute thinking, my beloved petal,” Byakuya replied, and he crossed over to the bed and lay himself down on it.

Her mouth fell open. While what she had said had been more of a suggestion than a command, he had still done as she advised. Usually he was the one giving other people orders, telling them what they should do. And in his eagerness, he hadn’t even taken his shoes off. She bit her lip as she eyed his feet. Perhaps she could remove them for him, even offer to give him a foot massage. After all, it was Touko’s duty to make him feel comfortable.

Saliva pooled in her mouth at the thought of her fingers kneading each of his ten toes, one-by-one.

“Oh, sugar pie princess?” he called out. “Would you please fluff my pillow?”

Touko jolted and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. “O-Of course!”

Now wasn’t the time to daydream. She needed to be focused, as hard as that would be with Byakuya’s glittering blue eyes and perfect smile in close proximity. With great care, she accepted the pillow from him, then she got to work, screaming and beating and throttling the pillow for a full two minutes.

When she finished, she neatly slipped it behind him and stepped back.

Byakuya snuggled against the pillow. “Thank you, my rose sweet. I knew I could depend on you.”

He was beautiful. Radiant. And his head was touching the pillow that her hands had touched. She rested a hand against her chest, wishing she could swap places with that pillow.

“Forgive me for being so bold, but may I ask another favour? It is a rather hefty one,” he said.

“P-Please do!”

Possibilities flooded through her brain. He might want her to feed him. Or read to him. Or wash him. The last thought simultaneously set her aflame and gave her chills. She hugged herself. Let out a little moan.

His smile stayed strong.

“... Could you stay the night? Apologies, for I am selfish to demand your precious time, but - ”

“Eh?” went Touko, her brain short-circuiting.

“I thirst for your company. Just your presence is enough to bring me strength. Please. Sit with me.”

Byakuya’s only ailments seemed to be a high temperature and slight demeanour change. Otherwise, he didn’t appear to be unwell. He had more than easily made the journey back from the gymnasium to his room. But Touko couldn’t turn down a chance like this. When he recovered, she didn’t know how long it would take for him to work up the nerve to invite her to spend the night again. Though maybe if she did a good enough job now, she could win him over and be able to come again.

“I’ll stay.” She squeezed her hands together. “S-Stay... with Byakuya-sama...”

Usually, Touko watched Byakuya from across the library, or she stood near his table in the cafeteria. Her head spun as she pulled over a chair and sat at his bedside, squeezing her knees with her sweaty palms. She expected him to say that she stunk and needed to bathe, especially now they would be near each other a lot more, but he made no mention of her odour.

“Yesterday, when you called Naegi a puddle of dish water at the bottom of a washing up bowl, I could barely restrain a smirk,” he said. “Your tongue is a ferocious weapon, wielded by one as intelligent and worldly as you are. How interesting you are to have around! Impossible to predict, full of surprises. And with you protecting me, I feel no fear or apprehension. Even if the world outside this prison turned out to be a desolate wasteland run by wild elementary schoolers, with you at my side, I could face it or anything.”

Touko nodded, grinning widely as Byakuya’s voice rolled over her like ocean waves. He carried on like this until night time, when her eyelids began to droop and her chin started dipping toward her chest. As much as she wanted to stay awake, the recent events had zapped her clean of energy. Part of her didn’t want to go to bed, afraid she would wake up in her own room. Though if this was how the dream were to end, she couldn’t have asked for anything better.

Having fallen asleep plenty of times at her desk when she had a deadline to meet, she would have no trouble sleeping on Byakuya’s chair. But just as she started to get comfortable, Byakuya shuffled to one side of the bed and patted the other.

“Join me,” he said.

That jolted her more awake. And nearly off her chair. “Huh?

Byakuya wanted to share a bed with her. With her. A bed.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She reached her shaking hands to her neck, trying to feel for the invisible hands strangling her throat. Or whatever was making it hard to breathe. He wanted her to get into bed with him. This was just like the story she had been writing earlier that day. If only she had thought to wear red lingerie, as well as shave until she was as hairless as a doll.

“I’m counting on you, my snowflake,” he said.

No more needed to be said. Touko lurched forward, onto his bed. Feeling full of electricity, she scrambled onto her back and slightly spread her legs apart. Then she gulped. Waited. Trembled. Beside her, Byakuya positioned himself on his side, propping up his cheek in his hand as he faced her.

“Thank you for indulging me, my amethyst souffle,” he said. “Just seeing your face will enable me to sleep soundly.”

She fidgeted and gulped and curled her toes, unable to look at him now. Too distracted. Too focused. Her skin tingled in anticipation, but he didn't lay a finger on her. Only when his breathing evened out did she peek at him and realise he had fallen asleep.

So no sex then.

Still, there was nowhere else she would rather be, especially the real world. Unfortunately, she had to wake up sooner or later. Even she knew that. She shut her eyes and waited for the dream to end, only to eventually drift to sleep instead.

***

When she woke up, she was still in Byakuya’s bed. He chirped good morning to her, batted his eyelashes at her and said he had never had such a pleasant sleep before. A rosy aura hung around him that rained a few pink flower petals onto the bed sheet, as real as the flames on Kiyondo’s eyebrows had been.

The previous day hadn’t been a fantasy her brain had cooked up. This was really happening.

“W-What would you like me to do for you?” she asked, once she had got out of bed..

“Ah, there are many things I wish you to do for me,” he said. He touched his fingertips to his chest. “As well as do to me...”

His stomach rumbled.

“... Breakfast would not be out of the question,” he said.

“Breakfast! I can do breakfast!” Touko exclaimed. “I’ll be right back! D-Don’t go anywhere!”

She dashed out of the room, not dropping speed until she crossed through the cafeteria and arrived at the kitchen door. A few of her novels included scenes where someone served breakfast in bed to their love interest, but she had yet to experience it for herself.

Upon entry into the kitchen, she spotted a tired-looking Makoto and Kyouko by one of the refrigerators. To her displeasure, Makoto turned to her and waved.

“Good morning, Fukawa-san. How are you holding up?” he asked.

“Well,” replied Touko in a chipped tone, more focused on why she had come here in the first place. She could serve Byakuya scrambled eggs on toast. Or pancakes. Maybe something with fish. Her eyes flitted between the crates of fresh fruit and freezer cases with meat in them.

“That’s good to hear,” said Makoto. “We’re doing shifts taking care of Ishimaru-kun and Asahina-san, which is... interesting.”

He laughed quietly. She didn’t recall saying anything amusing. If she hadn’t had such an important job to do, she would have lectured him on his existence, but instead she plucked a pan off a hook hanging over the centre island. Pancakes today, salted salmon tomorrow.

“Oh, you can cook?” he asked.

“W-What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped.

Makoto flinched. “Nothing! I... um...”

When Touko was in elementary school, she used to prepare lunches for her childhood sweetheart. Before the whole him pinning her love note to the noticeboard, moving away and getting murdered thing happened, obviously. She also learned how to cook when the local kissaten she bought breakfast from shut down, as the kids in school would steal her lunch or smear boogers into it. With desserts, she had experience making a lot of rejected honmei chocolate, so all together she could practically prepare any meal.

“I lived by myself at my old high school,” Touko decided to say. Later, she would have to pop into the library and grab herself some cookbooks for inspiration, but for now she could make do.

“We’re struggling to think of what to get everyone,” said Makoto. “Asahina-san said she didn’t care what we made her, but when Oogami-san suggested donuts, Ishimaru-kun freaked out and ranted about how donuts weren’t an appropriate breakfast choice.”

“He referred to them as Satan’s glory holes,” said Kyouko, deadpan. Touko stuck up her nose.

“W-Well, I’m making Byakuya-sama pancakes topped with strawberries.” She put a carton of eggs onto a counter. “They have to be perfect for my darling...”

“You’ll do a great job. And hey, even if they’re not perfect, it won’t matter to him now he’s become really fond of you,” said Makoto.

Touko’s fist clenched around an egg, causing it to crack and seep between her fingers. She whipped around, glaring at him. “W-What’s that supposed to mean?”

Makoto twitched. “Ah!”

“Spit it out, you underwear stain!”

He hesitated at the insult, as if confused by it, then added, “Togami-kun has been a lot nicer to you since he got the disease, that’s all. Everyone’s personality has become the opposite. But it’s great that he’s treating you kindly, really. That’s all I’m saying...”

“Well, don’t!”

Anger continued to tremor Touko’s hands as she readied Byakuya’s meal. Just because Makoto had an ugly crooked spike in his hair, he thought that made him like an anime protagonist that was always right and knew everything about everything and should be listened to all the time.

Touko forced herself to breathe in, then out. She couldn’t let him get under her skin. Her priority was looking after Byakuya right now.

***

Over the next three days, Touko brought Byakuya meals to eat. Fetched him books to read. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find any nurse outfits, not in the storage room nor in the infirmary, but she didn’t let that discourage her.

“I’m back, Byakuya-sama,” she said as she entered his room, carrying his dinner on a tray. Despite spending most of her time here now, her heart still quickened whenever she came back in and saw him. Each time, Byakuya would stop what he was doing to look at her, whether it was staring into space with a handsome pout or reading a book.

“My purple primrose!” Byakuya tossed aside the detective novel she had got for him yesterday. “It has been twenty minutes and thirty-three seconds since you left. Though this room blocks all sound, I knew of your approach as your aroma slipped through the gap beneath the door. It is unmistakable. The scent of morning sun after a night of rain... The breath of a book opening near a warm campfire... How I wish I could bathe in your fragrance...”

“T-Thank you,” she said, grinning. She had been showering more lately. Despite how much she despised her naked body and hazy childhood memories, she needed to keep herself and Byakuya safe. Mostly Byakuya. And to accomplish that, she needed to be free from dirt and germs.

Touko brought the tray over to his table, walking slowly so as to not upset the berry smoothie and bowl of chicken soup on it. As she set it down, her gaze fell onto the yellow rose in the vase sitting at the centre of the table. When she and Byakuya ate there, together, she could pretend that they were on a date in a fancy restaurant. Though she would be just as happy if they ate somewhere lower class. Or even just at home, so long as it was their home.

“My dear, you have been so helpful bringing me books to peruse,” said Byakuya, still sitting on his bed. “However - and this is no fault of yours - none of these selections have satisfied me.”

She winced.

“S-Sorry, I’m not too well-versed in your favourite genres. P-Please, feel free to take your anger out on me...”

Her face screwed up as she waited for him to strike her face, or grab her by the hair and sling her over his lap so he could spank her. She trembled, feeling like needles were being pressed into her skin. He had never done those things to her before, or hit her at all in fact, but that was how her father disciplined her mothers.

“Actually, my peardrop, I was wondering if you have a copy of any of your books for me to read,” said Byakuya.

Touko blinked. “M-M-Mine?”

“Indeed. Do you have any I could read?”

“I have a few copies in my room...”

“Perfect! I can read while you feed me. On the bed today, please.”

Her brain stalled and almost gave up entirely. Somehow, she managed to manoeuvre her legs well enough to sprint out of the room. The school library didn't stock any of her novels, but she had a few copies in her room that she had brought in case she needed to use them for reference. Sometimes, when she had writer's block, she reread a passage to refresh herself on her writing style, or see how she had previously tackled something in the prose that was giving her issues now.

Towers of books stood on her desk as well as surrounded her bed. Touko dithered, unsure what to bring back. All of her published works were romances, which she knew he didn’t read. There was her I-Novel, but she was still working on it and wasn't ready for anyone to read it yet. She took a deep breath before extracting a copy of the book that had first brought her to the public’s attention from one of the stacks. So Lingers the Ocean.

A romance, but a highly acclaimed one, and he had asked for one of her books, so even in his current state, he must have been expecting a romance...

... right?

Touko whined and shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to second guess. Before she could lose her nerve, she ran out of her room. He could only have known about her romance books, not an I-Novel she hadn’t told a soul about. Therefore he had to want to read one of her romance novels. That was an honour. A dream came true.

Even if she had once overheard him tell Makoto that he would rather gorge his eyeballs out with a dessert spoon.

Her hand froze, an inch from Byakuya’s door. She clenched her jaw and forced herself on, into the room. As soon as she entered, Byakuya straightened and whipped his head toward her.

“I’m back,” she blurted, even though it was obvious, and walked over to the table where she had left his breakfast. “With a book. And I... um, m-made you chicken soup. I got it from a sealed can in the storage room, so we know it hasn’t been tampered with.”

“Astute thinking, my precious kitty cat!” he said, happier about tinned soup than anyone she ever knew. “Though I trust you explicitly. Still, if you were to poison me, by your tender hand is how I wish to die.”

He would never have said something like that before. Romantic as it was, the thought of losing him stabbed the back of her throat. She mustered a small smile and nodded, unsure how to respond or feel.

“Come. I am starving, both for food and your attention,” he said, patting the bed.

She grabbed his dinner and sat on the chair by his bed. With the tray balanced on her lap, she pulled the book out from under her armpit and passed it to him. Her heart skipped as he opened it without complaint and started reading.

Since getting the despair disease, he had become more emotive, more open with his emotions, but now only a small furrow dipped between his eyebrows. The look of concentration reminded her of how he used to be, before his illness. Remembering she was meant to be feeding him, she dove her spoon into the creamy beige soup and offered him a mouthful. His eyes flickered and he parted his lips, letting her feed him. Then his attention was back on the book.

Touko tried to keep her hands steady as she fed him more soup. After the first spoonful, his gaze didn’t stray from the book, and he only opened his mouth when the spoon touched against his lips. She wished she knew what he was thinking. What he thought of her book. But not wanting to disrupt him, she continued feeding him in silence and so he continued reading in silence.

When he turned the page, she shivered at the rustle of paper, like a hand was brushing over her lower stomach. Her fingers grazed against his cheek as she slid in more soup between his luscious lips. The light touch made her chest flutter. Made her ache. She shifted to sit slightly closer to him, mind buzzing. Even if she wanted to say something to him now, she didn’t think she could without vomiting. He was so intoxicating. Any moment now, she thought she would burst.

Byakuya coughed into his hand. Touko twitched, dropping the spoon, and it tumbled down his front. Hot chicken soup and all.

“BYAKUYA-SAMA!” she shrieked.

The soup's colour seemed to have become more yellow when it splattered against his shirt, which must have cost hundreds of thousands of yen. Pocket change for him, but it was the principle. Touko had majorly screwed up.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, clutching her head in both hands. As his nurse and future spouse, she should have been more careful. She could have scalded him. Scarred him. Burned one of his nipples off.

“My vixen temptress, please do not distress. I am fine,” he assured her. “I am the fiend for startling you. Instead of clearing my throat and causing you emotional turmoil, I should have suffocated.”

“N-No! Byakuya-sama needs to breathe!” she said, her head jerking back. In his current state, there was a chance he would actually do it.

“Ah! But you are the reason that I breathe, my tofu heart-shaped block. In any case, the stain should come out in the wash with little difficulty. Here, I will remove my shirt and show you I am unharmed...”

Byakuya set the book down beside him and unfastened his tie. Without hesitation, he began unbuttoning his shirt. Her eyes bulged. Moments ago, her mouth had been scorched dry, but now she could feel it flooding. She couldn’t swallow though. Only stare. His fingers fondled each button, popping them free from top to bottom, until he peeled off his jacket and then his shirt.

“See? My skin is unharmed.”

Touko could see that very well. While he didn’t have as much muscle definition as Sakura or Mondo, his stomach still looked rather toned. But that wasn’t what made her breathing hitch. He could have weighed half or double what he did and her reaction wouldn’t have changed. What was making her bite her lip and stare was the simple act of him undressing.

Now one less layer lay between her and his heart. She could barely concentrate as he started talking again.

“Before you resume feeding me, let me quickly relay my thoughts on your novel so far,” he said. “Your writing prowess exceeds far beyond that of a mere wordsmith. With ink and paper, you can captivate any reader like no other. I see how many became bewitched by your prose. How you set nationwide trends with your literature.”

Her eyes shot up to his face. A grin spread across her lips. “T-Thank you, Byakuya-sama!”

“Why, even I, brilliant as I am, perfection incarnate, am considering vacating my position as Togami heir and becoming a fisherman.” Byakuya touched one hand’s fingertips to his chest. “Of course, I would spurn anyone who threw themselves at my feet, vying for companionship, for my heart is only for you.”

Her mind spun as she tried to comprehend what he said. Many times, he had boasted of his conglomerate’s power and influence. He always spoke of his family name with such pride, as if without it he would be nothing. For him to say he would abdicate his conglomerate...

... he really was in the throes of the despair disease.

Touko’s smile fell. Byakuya blinked.

“Something bothers you, my love,” he said.

This should have been a dream come true. Spending time with Byakuya. Feeding him. Taking care of him. Getting showered with compliments by him. Receiving endless pet names from him.Yet as she stared into his pale blue eyes, and he into her grey pair, it was as though neither were really looking at the other. She was not looking at Byakuya Togami, and he was not looking at Touko Fukawa.

“I don’t want this,” she mumbled. Her hands balled to fists against her lap as she hunched her shoulders. “You may resemble him, but you are not Byakuya-sama. Byakuya-sama would not abandon his family’s conglomerate. He would not trust anyone else, he would not flood me with compliments and he wouldn’t call me beautiful.”

That was what men who wanted something from her did. What girls would do before asking to be a character in her next novel, or asking her to buy them a new handbag or designer clothing.

“The despair disease has made you completely the opposite,” she said. “T-Therefore... Byakuya-sama must really hate me.”

She almost choked on a sob as she scrubbed her hands against her eyes.

“Touko.”

His gentle tone caught her by surprise. Up to now, it had been loud and grandiose. Touko looked at him, and for the first time in days, he wasn’t smiling.

“I hate to be the source of your sorrow and I do not say this to paint over your wound. But do you really think the disease makes the patient adopt an opposite personality?”

“Y-Yes?” She rubbed her knuckles against her nose. Her eyes burned. So did her throat. “That swim freak, usually so full of energy and passion, doesn’t care about anyone or anything. And Ishimaru, once uptight, is now swearing like a shit-faced college student.”

“But he still wishes for rules to be followed, does he not?”

Touko hesitated. “Eh?”

“If I only loved you due to my ailment and in reality hated you, would Ishimaru have not begun to hate Oowada instead of still calling him kyoudai? Would Asahina not be hostile to the others? To Oogami?”

She teethed on her thumbnail, brow furrowing.

“Some say the opposite of love is indifference,” she said.

“But why is Ishimaru still loud?” he pressed on. “Why does he still wish for rules to be obeyed? Why am I not a dunce like Hagakure and Naegi? Why do I feel the same disdain for them as I did before?”

Her eyes flickered.

“I... I don’t know...”

Perhaps only some traits became opposite. Byakuya tilted his head to one side.

“Monobear referred to the illness as ‘despair disease’, not ‘opposite’ or ‘topsy-turvy’ disease. With Asahina, it is harder to discern admittedly, but Ishimaru is a satisfactory example. The disease doesn’t specifically make a person behave in the opposite way, but in a way that would cause themselves despair.”

Touko stayed quiet. Admittedly, what he said made some sense. As much sense as could be had when it came to this bizarre disease. Byakuya moved slightly closer to her.

“For example, Asahina would despair at being someone who does not care about others, especially her precious Oogami. She is no longer active, no longer sociable. No longer does she stand up for anyone, or anything. For someone who scorns me and Celes for being insensitive, she has become just that. And Ishimaru would despair at himself for wallowing in his loss instead of uniting us. For his uncouth language. His hostility. But he would despair especially because how he is coping is not what Oowada would have wanted. His new personality is an extreme version of his old self, and one that Oowada would despise.”

Touko nodded slowly. Yes, that also made sense. A valid theory for sure. 

“A person who wants to unite their peers may become a liar,” said Byakuya. “Someone strong may become a crying fool. A zany individual may become boring and humourless. And a nurse could be drawn to causing despair and murder.”

She cringed as she imagined herself standing over Byakuya and a puddle of blood, not with red eyes and a long tongue like in her nightmares, but with her own face. In his current state, he would have slit his own throat if she asked him to.

But she wasn't the person with the disease right now.

“What about you?” she asked. “What's your despair?”

“What do you think?”

Touko thought.

“Despair would be you going against what you hold pride for,” she said. “You would embody values that contradict how a Togami should be.”

“Correct. I used to spurn romance, but now I openly confess my devotion for another. However, I am not like Asahina and Ishimaru. If they recover, they will feel guilty about how they acted, brainless gnats that they are. I, meanwhile, would know I was forced to behave this way due to the disease, so I would feel no shame. I could easily detach myself from these actions.”

When she had tried to detach herself from her emotions, it had created a murderous alter, yet he claimed doing so made him stronger. She nodded quietly. He lifted his chin and paused, brow furrowing as he stared across the room at empty space.

“That,” he said, quieter, “is unless the person I showed affection toward was someone I really did have feelings for prior to catching the disease.”

Her head nodded twice more before his words sank in. She froze. Blinked. Stared. “Byakuya-sama?”

Not a quiver touched his face, rock hard in its seriousness.

“I have not known you for a long time.” He adjusted his glasses. “And yet... you intrigue me.”

Normally, this would be the stuff of dreams. Touko wiggled slightly.

“H-How do I know this isn’t the disease making you lie about this?” she asked.

“Remember when I told you to take a bath because you were stinking up the library? Ah, how cruel I was.” He rested the back of his hand against his forehead and dipped his head back a few fractions. “If I simply wanted you gone, I wouldn’t have told you how to remedy the issue. If I wanted you to leave me alone, I would tell you, instead of letting you loiter around near me as often as I did.”

She chewed her lip. Her chest ached, hungering to believe him, yet it was as if a window stood between them. Though she could see his lips and hear his voice, when she tried to latch onto his words, she was met with cold glass. And if they couldn’t touch, then how could she be sure this wasn’t an illusion? As ingenuine as a boy who asked you on a date only to ditch you during a movie at the theatre?

“What about me intrigues you?” she asked.

“My winter blossom, you are a puzzle I cannot fathom. Every time I believe I have all the pieces that create your whole, I find another, and I must rethink your entirety. I can never fit your facets together in a way that makes sense, that explains the feelings that stir in my gut. When I try, when I think about you, I don't realise until hours later how much time has passed without resolution. Following one such night where I pondered you deeply, if I had not disposed of my bin's contents in the morning, I could have fished out a used tissue to prove how much I thought of you before I had this disease...”

“Y-You-?” Touko covered her mouth. She tried to visualise what he said but could only see white. And when she tried to recite his words, they jumbled into a drone in her ears.

Her hands shifted up to her eyes. Tension pressed into her body, as if she was being encased in ice. Reality felt unreal. The unrealness of this all felt too real. Any moment, she would wake up, and the ice trapping her would shatter and hopefully not break her apart too much. Any moment now. Any moment now. Any...

Warmth enveloped her hands. The pressure on her body melted away, and the droning that stormed in her head quietened. A gentle pull lowered her hands from her eyes, and then Byakuya's face hung in her vision like the Sun. He released one of her hands so he could cradle her cheek. His other hand continued to hold one of hers.

“Touko,” he murmured.

“Y-Yeah?”

She could have sworn he was leaning closer to her. Or perhaps she was the one leaning in. Or maybe the room was caving in around them, about to crush them in its fist, but she didn’t care if it was. Right now, Byakuya was all she could see, hear, then feel.

Their lips touched, butterfly light, yet it was enough to shoot sparks through her body. Touko’s arms shuddered. Her toes spasmed. A sharp intake of breath pulsed in her throat. She squeezed his hand, as if to steady herself, and then they both nudged their heads forward some more.

In doing so, their lenses clacked together. With her eyes barely open and her hand in his, she didn’t particularly need her eye wear right now. While she could never tire of basking in his glory, Touko had seen Byakuya plenty of times, had memorised the hue of his eyes, the shape of his nose. Every minute detail was branded into the back of her eyelids as though she had spent not just a few weeks looking at him, but years.

Byakuya let go of her cheek to whip both their glasses off, throwing them aside before placing his hand on her middle. Without having to worry about their glasses bonking against each other. their lips pressed together more firmly. There was probably an angle they could have tilted their heads at, or a shallow depth they could have remained at, in order to kiss comfortably with their glasses still on. In most of the romances that Touko had read, the presence of eye wear never seemed to disturb anyone when they kissed.

But this was real, like really real, a mantra that she internally repeated to herself. Out loud, though, the only sounds that left her mouth were huffs and pants. Same with Byakuya. Their mouths tripped and fumbled together, lips never locking, constantly moving. Touko didn’t care to find that one perfect position for that one perfect kiss. She wanted to kiss everywhere on him. His lips. His face. The rest of his body.

Her thighs rubbed together. And she wanted his lips not just on her own, but all over her body too. Normally, when she imagined another's mouth roving her body, she woke up tangled in sheets and screaming, covered in reopened wounds only she could see. That wouldn't wash off, bleeding memories of faceless men and faces of men she knew too well down the drain.

But Byakuya was different. Byakuya made her heart feel soft. Made the world feel softer. Up to now, she had been holding one of his hands and doing nothing with her other. Touko raised her free hand and threaded her fingers through his hair. Also soft. She had never known any part of him to not be cold hard metal, that cut anything or anyone that tried to get too close to him.

Perhaps it wasn't so much that he was different, but that he was the same as her.

Their heads shifted, and Touko’s bottom lip got caught between Byakuya’s. He bit down gently, not enough to hurt, but enough for her to feel. Her stomach flipped and with a groan, she pulled him into her.

The back of her head hit the bed. His body pressed down into hers. Their kiss survived the fall, but then he rose up slightly and their mouths popped apart wetly. She wondered what he was doing. What he was thinking as his hot breath peppered her face.

“God...” Byakuya murmured before submerging again. He cupped her cheek with one hand while his other hand continued gripping hers, fingers laced together.

No one else had ever held her hand while they kissed her before. Usually they just grasped her by the head or throat. If Byakuya did either to her, she thought she wouldn't mind because it was him. She doubted he would though. Maybe in this despair-state he might, if she asked.

But Touko preferred being kissed like this. Even with the disease, his kisses felt very much like him. He took his time. Didn’t rush. Very thorough, to the extent that she wouldn't have been surprised if their lips were blistered by the end. As a Togami, he wouldn’t do a half-ass job of anything.

Or perhaps, she thought, he kissed this way because it was his first time. With each kiss, each groan, a new sensation could have been blooming in his chest that he had to digest lest it become overgrown and suffocate him.

Her fingers tangled in his hair. She couldn't imagine him kissing anyone else like this. Nobody would have been good enough for him.

Nobody except her.

Touko smiled against him and hooked a leg around his back, feeling her ankle slip a little on his sweat. They barely stirred otherwise, focused on the other’s mouths. Warm. Wet. Inviting. She pressed her tongue against his lips, only meaning to taste, but to her surprise, she felt him open his mouth. With a shudder, she parted her lips as well, and his tongue slid over hers and into her. The muffled groan that shook out of Byakuya’s mouth vibrated through her body. Her head whirled. 

He was inside of her. Well, inside of her mouth, anyway. For now. And he was enjoying it. So was she. Their tongues tumbled together, licking and swatting and twisting and pushing. It wasn't the steamy battle so often described in romance novels, where tongues battled for dominance, but more of a dance, their tongues going back and forth between mouths.

The area between her thighs tingled, hot and needy. Touko ground against Byakuya, huffing and panting. Equally restless, he pressed closer, and then was when she felt another part that felt like it wanted to be inside her too. Something firm, between his legs, rubbing against her.

She stiffened. He did too and raised his head.

“Is something troubling you, my amethyst jewel?” he asked, confused.

“Um...” Her eyes flickered. Without his tongue in her mouth, her head felt rather hollow. “Byakuya-sama, your...”

Byakuya didn't answer. Touko swallowed.

“You’re... excited down there, aren’t you?”

For all the dirty talk she did in her head and out loud, she now cringed, face burning. She had almost forgotten his body wasn't smooth all over like a marble statue.

“Ah! It appears your heavenly body has kindled my rod of white might,” he said. He stroked her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. “You say you are not pretty, but to me you are divine. What you consider blemishes add flavour. I could spend hours worshipping your every crevice, every drop of sweat. Regardless, it was not your beauty that drew me to you initially. As I have said, you intrigue me, Touko. And I desire to bed you.”

Touko shivered. He wanted to have sex with her. There were so many different positions they could experiment with. His face could contort into so many different expressions, and he could make so many different moans. The possibilities were endless. This would have been a dream come true... normally.

“Byakuya-sama.” Touko frowned. “We should wait before we... do it. Until you’re better.”

“I am fully cognizant and willing. This is something I want to do with you even without the disease, even if I deny it to myself.”

He wasn't making this easy for her. She wanted to have sex with him, so so much. But hearing him talk made her more sure with her decision.

“I know.” Touko breathed. Steadied herself, even as her heart fluttered. “However, you are only being so bold because of the disease. I would like to wait until you’re better, when you properly come to terms with your feelings. That’s the only way it’ll feel right.”

Other guys, other men, usually didn’t take her ‘no’s for an answer. Touko braced herself, waiting for him to shout and demand or coax her with honey like poison in his tone.

“As you wish,” he said. He sounded like he was smiling, even though he looked like mist without her glasses on. “But... would it be acceptable if we were to share a bed tonight? Not for intercourse. I just... wish to be close to you.”

She hadn’t expected him to say that.

“O-Of course!” she blurted. “But... um...”

Her eyes flickered, even though she couldn’t see it.

“Y-Your... rod-of-white-might...”

“It will recede within the half hour,” he replied. “As it usually does. If it bothers you, a cold shower may quell its temper faster, or I could grasp it in my hand and...”

Touko nearly choked. “Whatever you want!”

A plethora of images exploded in her head. Byakuya naked in the shower, a steam cloud hovering around his crotch. His eyelashes webbed together with water as he slowly dragged a loofah down his leg. Him perched on the edge of the toilet, biting his lip as he pumped his fist. Trying to stay quiet, but unable to stop the occasional grunt slipping out. She didn’t know how she would be able to behave herself while he was doing any of that. Just thinking about it made something deep within her itch, yearning to be stroked. Rubbed. Sucked.

“What I want is whatever you want, my violet enchantress,” he said. When she didn’t answer, panting and trembling, he got off her and lay on his back. He was close enough to be able to take her hand in his, and when he squeezed it, the visions around Touko faded. She was back in the room again.

They remained like that, together, hand in hand.

***

A few days later, Touko awoke to an empty bed. Coincidentally, that same morning, Byakuya and Aoi seemed to be back to their usual selves. As for Kiyotaka, he was nowhere to be seen when Makoto, Sakura and Aoi visited the infirmary. They only found Hifumi and Celes there, beaten up. During their search, they bumped into Touko and Byakuya, and after they had brought them up to date with what had happened so far, everyone went on an expedition around the school, trying to find Hifumi and Celes’s attacker.

Touko’s group soon stumbled upon Kiyotaka’s corpse in the science lab storage room. He was sprawled across a pentagram painted in blood on the floor. One moment, she was staring at the hole in Kiyotaka’s chest where his heart should have been, then the next she was standing in her room.

Switching from Syo fronting would never not be disorientating. She grimaced and pulled out her electronic student ID card from her bra to check the time. At the least, more than half a day had passed since Syo swapped in, but at the most, several days could have passed. There weren’t any calendars at the school. All she knew was that Monobear would be doing the night time announcement soon.

Which was just as well, as she was exhausted, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep yet. Not until she found out what happened at the trial that must have happened earlier. Not until she confirmed that Byakuya was still alive.

Familiar with his schedule, she headed to the library, only to find him not there. Touko searched the whole area. Byakuya wasn’t at a desk, wasn’t by a bookshelf and he wasn’t in the small room at the back. With every minute that passed without him present, the invisible grip on her neck tightened. He always visited the library at this time. She waited past Monobear’s night time announcement in case he was running late, but when he still didn’t come, she ran to his room and pummelled on his door.

“BYAKUYA-SAMA!” she screamed despite how he wouldn’t have heard her even if he was in there. Soundproof rooms. He also wouldn’t have been able to hear her if he was dead...

The door opened. Byakuya flinched back as she punched his chest by accident.

“S-Sorry!” she said, snapping a hand up to her mouth. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Idiot,” he said, very much his usual self again.

“P-Please, punish me as you see fit. I - ”

“Shut up. I’m fine. Fortunately for you, raindrops hit harder than you.”

Byakuya was definitely his usual self. A slight smile curled her lips. And most importantly, he was okay. He was alive.

He was alive. Her lips wobbled as her face scrunched.

“B-Byakuya-sama!”

“Oi, don’t be doing all that,” said Byakuya. As much as she wanted to oblige, she couldn't stop herself. She rubbed her knuckles against her eyes, sniffling and shaking all over, and heard him sigh. “I don’t want Asahina finding you crying outside of my room. You may as well come in and stay until you calm down. We need to talk anyway.”

Touko stopped crying immediately and twitched. “Huh?”

His frown tightened and he started closing the door. Before it could shut, she flitted under his arm and went inside. As she walked further in, she looked around. The room had the same carpet as last time, the same paintings on the walls and the same number of glasses in the holder. 

Yet everything felt different. Same but different, like she had been looking at the room’s reflection in a mirror before. Byakuya sat at the table, while Touko shuffled over and stood nearby, wringing her hands.

“We are down three competitors now,” he said, crossing one leg over the other. “Ishimaru, Yamada and Ludenberg.”

What an ice breaker. Her eyebrows rose. “How...?

“Ludenberg and Yamada tricked Ishimaru into thinking they were going to perform a ritual to exorcise Oowada's soul from his body.” The way Byakuya spoke was like someone discussing last week's homework. “While the rest of us were asleep, they led him to the storage room and killed him, at which point Asahina and myself recovered from the despair disease. As you will recall, we were then led around on a chase to find the killer and locate the others, during which Ludenberg faked being attacked and then killed Yamada.”

Touko pulled a face. “So much for her claims about wanting to live in peace here indefinitely.”

She would have thought that Celes would need an incentive like ten billion yen before she considered killing anyone. A smirk curled Byakuya’s lips.

“Ludenberg made it very clear that she hated being here more than anyone. All her preaching about how we should adapt to this place had been one of her many lies. I must say, it was very ironic that after killing Ishimaru, she caught the despair disease and could only tell the truth. That was a rather amusing revelation to be had during the trial.”

Now that Byakuya didn't have the disease, he spoke in that blunt way of his that Touko so loved. Touko loved the cool intensity of his gaze. How he pushed up his glasses, how his cheek twitched when he was irritated and how his lips flattened as he smiled. Byakuya went on to fill in the rest of the details of the murders while Touko listened, fidgeting her hands. Celes and Hifumi worked together for the most part, planning to frame Yasuhiro as Kiyotaka’s murderer and whoever Celes chose to murder, but unbeknownst to Hifumi, Celes had chosen him to be her victim.

“As if that oaf could orchestrate such a convoluted plan,” Byakuya scoffed, arms folded over his chest. A chest that she had seen nude. His fingers drummed against his upper arm. She gulped as she remembered how his fingers had felt caressing her face. “Hagakure was hysterical when he saw the crime scene. He believed its legitimacy enough that some of the others almost considered him to be the culprit.”

“Idiots,” sneered Touko. Byakuya nodded.

“Indeed. Ludenberg was also unfortunate that a lot of us had alibis. If I was superstitious, I would think the despair disease also broke her lucky streak... but really it came to poor planning on her part. She is no Genocider Syo.”

At the mention of her alter, Touko cringed and looked away.

“W-Well, it’s good that we both survived. If you were to...” She shuddered. Moved the conversation on. “W-We were away from the others, and these rooms are impossible to break into. But even so... I wouldn’t allow a finger to touch you! Anyone who tried... would feel my wrath!”

Byakuya didn’t respond. She slid her gaze back onto him. A wrinkle divided his brow, and he had steepled his fingers together.

“Byakuya-sama?”

A few seconds passed until he spoke, not looking at her. “We ought to talk about our time together away from the others. About what I said... what I did... we did...”

His face was pink. Normally, he only flushed with colour when he was angry. She tilted her head to one side. There were many things she could have said to him, all of them sticking to her tongue. Carefully, she sifted through until only one stuck and she swallowed the rest.

“... I’m glad that you recovered.”

Byakuya blinked. “You are? Even though I was... you know?”

“Yup.” Touko nodded firmly. “The Byakuya-sama in front of me right now is the one who dominates my thoughts... who owns my heart... I can more than easily create my own fantasy Byakuya-sama if I wanted to. But you... the you that you are now is perfection only stardust could create. B-Besides..”

She poked her index fingers together, grinning.

“... I don’t want to be with you because you’re in despair and I’m immune to it. I want us to both be in something else...”

“What, the opposite? Hope?” scoffed Byakuya.

“Love.”

Byakuya uncrossed his legs and glowered. “That will only happen in my nightmares. What I said to you before we...” He almost tripped on his tongue. “... did... that thing together... that was all a ploy by Monobear to humiliate me. I absolutely don’t have a shred of feelings for you.”

Touko blinked, then bowed her head forward. Her shoulders slumped.

“Yes, Byakuya-sama,” she said in a dull voice.

“My children will be born from high quality women... and I shall marry whoever gives me the most worthy heir. As is tradition. You hear that?”

“Yes, Byakuya-sama,” she intoned.

“Yes. Well...” He coughed. “I think that settles business here then. I just wanted to clarify all this to you so you don’t get any wrong ideas. Now, as I have updated you on the last trial, I believe that makes us even for you being my nurse while I was unwell. So you can leave now. Go on, get out.”

His tone sharpened toward the end. Without a word, Touko dragged her feet to his door, her head still tilted forward. She opened it, and was about to leave when he spoke up again.

“Fukawa.”

Touko paused, holding the door open.

“... that book of yours I read was actually pretty good. I can see why it won awards, even if it’s not my genre of choice.”

She nodded silently, still facing toward the door.

“That’s all,” he said. “Leave.”

The door shut behind her. For a few more seconds, she stood alone in the corridor. Her shoulders started to shake. Ragged breaths rocked her body. She clapped her hands to her cheeks and slowly lifted her head, a wide grin on her face.

Feeling the happiest she had been in a long time, Touko giggled and skipped to her room.

However long it took for him to realise his feelings, she would gladly wait.

[ambonexus]

Mortified or Enamored?

"Makoto makes a mess on the dining hall floor and he has to clean up using a mop. Unfortunately for him, he's only used a mop once or twice, and he severely underestimates just how slippery water can be. After an embarrassing series of events, what with Makoto slipping and kicking his shoe off, there's an unexpected reaction from someone in their little group."

Makoto and Byakuya have an argument in the library.

[theamityelf]

Panel's back, baby! And everything is fine. 😅

[urban-witch101]

Guess who is back in business and is actively updating after being dead for like five months?

So if you're a regular reader of this, please go reread it. I edited it up to hell and back and there are both minor and major changes that are crucial to the story. If not, welcome!

Enjoy guys! Feedback is appreciated, I read every comment I get :)

[yawujin]

could you write when nagito, shuichi, hajime and byakuya get jealous or them reacting to you being jealous? i love your works so much!!

thank you!! 🤍 hope you like this too ;D

request | danganronpa boys react to a jealous! reader

type | toxic(ish) , you pronouns used , head canon format , no killing game

nagito komaeda ♡

he misunderstood...and thought you were jealous of his life

"you're jealous? but why?" we all know what he thinks of himself , so he was seriously wondering how someone could ever want to trade their life for his own.

but when you told him how you really felt; he felt a little bit relieved

if there is someone you want him to stay away from, he'll do it.

he's no stranger to suddenly giving someone the cold shoulder

shuichi saihara ♡

you can see in his eyes that shuichi is stunned that you're jealous

he's slightly oblivious when it comes to the emotional aspect of things (unless you are outright crying about something that got you down)

not keen to the idea of completely cutting off his friend(s) that you're jealous of, if you're the type to ask for that

however, he will agree to spend less time with them and give you more of undivided attention.

hajime hinata ♡

"oh , okay. what can i do to make you less like that?"

is what he'll say when you confess your jealousy

why is he lowkey so laid back lolol

he's very reasonable so don't shy away from having a conversation about everything you feel

similar to shuichi, he won't be ready to cut everyone off. but, he'll offer to hang out with you more AND bring you along to more of his hangouts with his friends

byakuya togami ♡

don't get jealous around this man

he'll be all smug about it omg bye

you tell him that you're jealous and ask him to not do the thing that makes you jealous and he'll say:

"convince me"

you might have to beg him 🙃

[sprinklenoodles]

I'm baaaaack! I got a doozy of a piece too! For The Heir of Despair!

Read all that was there and I am here to share my thoughts in a slightly coherent way! Sorry in advance if I repeat myself! First, Byakuya, my boy. Oh my gosh are you an irredeemable prick! I say this in a good way by the way! Like, you wrote him good in the sense that I am routing for his downfall in some way and was very excited near the end when he slightly didn't get his way. Bravo! You have succeeded in making me dislike my boy! (I still love him <3) But, anyway, reading what's here really got my brain thinking! Like, what might happen with Byakuya and Junko. In fact, Here's a lightning round of fun little questions that make my brain do acrobatics in a skating park! Not for answering of course! That's be lame! I must expel these out though haha!

There! Got it out of my system!! As for some other thoughts, I enjoy the canon divergences! Obviously the main gimmick is itself one, but you get what I mean! Also, I have no way to segway into this but I was no joke quoting and spouting a bunch of goofy crap and like, I can't just NOT give a peak into the innerworkings of my mind. So, here. Take those and a bit of tidbits on the context I said them in. "Leave that little guy alone!" - Said mostly for Chihiro and Makoto, both when Byakuya was manipulate, mansplain, malewife-ing his way through existence. Less malewife though. Or scratch it. No malewife-ing for him. Not in this time line u_u "Byakuya! Have you learned nothing!" - Just any time Byakuya was doing stuff I found worthy of mocking him for. Might have to re-read everything to find the specifics cus I unfortunately did not count those moments in a spread sheet T-T "You're no good, Byakuya! You'll never be shit! You're just like your father!" - I find this one funny cus I legit find Kijo a saint in this in comparison to his son. It's both because the man hasn't really done much and he's not the focus. I also had a realization though that the reason I want this Byakuya to suffer so much is because I know he can do better than this! Like, Byakuya as a character! Unlike Kijo, he has the potential for redeemable qualities which makes his reveling in his own ego less camp, more pathetic. Like, Kijo makes it fun because he sucks, he will never improve, and that's that! And it's not like Byakuya can't be that fun camp! He just has to not be a monster! I like this factor in this Byakuya though in this fic. It really encapsulates how bad he could be. How he can surpass his father in horrible behavior, and actions. Like, it's sick reading how much he enjoys all of this and you did a really good job at it! Also, I have no idea how to fit this either but I DID mentally joke to myself that I wouldn't mind Junko actually cutting of a limb from Kijo just to make Byakuya suffer a bit (even if it probably won't be much sadly) and I have no idea how to take that... I think that, weirdly enough, I like ridiculing this Byakuya. I want him to fail. And like, it's insane you're writing can do that!! Be proud!! Like, this isn't even the type of fic I normally read and I've been able to enjoy it. You wrote many variants of just one rich guy and they're all distinct enough to feel different about them but similar enough where you can see where the divergences lie and I really like that!! And, it's oddly cool reading something and knowing that I could never write this. This goes for all your fics by the way but like, it's really cool reading this and just knowing that someone's able to write something I could never. I'm too much of a softie for Byakuya, even when I'm mean to him heehee! No clue if this makes sense by the way. I'm kinda blabbering now so I might end it here! But yeah! You got some cool stuff!

Aaahhh!!! Thank you!!! LOVE the art as always, it looks AWESOME!!

And yeah, Byakuya is NOT a good guy. He's very much a prick and supposed to be like that.

As for your questions, I obviously can't answer those... Though, the answer to some are no and some are yes... That's all I'll say.

And Chihiro is really going through it, with Makoto joining him soon. Byakuya will unfortunately not be leaving them alone 😔

Kijo is strangely enough a better person here, though he still ain't good. Like, he is very much on board with the killing game. He doesn't really like that Byakuya is in it cuz he doesn't want his heir to die, but that's all.

He's also very petty tho and is quite offended Byakuya kept him in the dark about everything. It's why he agreed to the motive. And unfortunately, no missing limbs for Kijo. That is reserved for another dad only in an AU that isn't mine...

But Byakuya is not nice, yeah. And like you said, he could be much better but he simply doesn't want to. He likes the way things are and loves to manipulate some of his classmates.

And that makes people not like him, just as intended. He's the protagonist but one you want to fail. Cuz if he doesn't, that means something bad for the rest of the cast...

But thank you!! I really like writing these different versions of him and it's really not as hard as it might seem. Tbh, it comes kinda natural if anything! Though, I get being the softie to Byakuya, I myself would never hurt him... Other than the countless times he got injured in my fics... :D

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

the half part sees what the other half's got

Fic master-post

When Byakuya Togami wakes up in the classroom, the first thing he notices isn't the strangeness of his surroundings, or the fact that he should have been walking through the school doors just a moment prior, or even the lack of people or faculty around. Rather, the first thing that strikes him is his vision, reduced to vague blurs of color. Now effectively blind, he needs to navigate this sick killing game established by a comically cruel teddy bear, of all things, while concealing this new weakness from any peers that might try to take advantage of him. It should be easier than it sounds, if not for one particularly annoying peasant. An annoyingly observant peasant. Unfortunately for him, Makoto Naegi has no intention of making anything easy for him.

Rating: Mature (May change)

Tags (will be updated with chapter uploads): canon divergent, ableism (ableist language), blindness/low vision, non-consensual body modification (non-graphic), canon-typical violence, canon deaths, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn

Pairings: Byakuya Togami/Makoto Naegi (possible Byakuya Togami/Makoto Naegi/Kyoko Kirigiri), Aoi Asahina/Sakura Ogami (background)

Anything relevant to the fic will be tagged with #thpff. Updates will be tagged with #thpff chapters

I'm not posting this on ao3 for the time being bc I'm currently not a fan of the management there lol. chapters 1-4 are still there but future chapters are going here

Chapters (Updates every Sunday)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 21.5

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

[elvenxwarrior]

Danganronpa Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Please check out my guidelines!

You can also find these posted on my AO3!

MINORS DNI! 18+ FOR SOME FICS.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

The Taboo Part One | Fluff

Rule Breakers | Kinda Spicy

Space | Fluff

Byakuya Togami

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Prison Break | Action(??)

Mr. Togami | Fluff

Little | Fluff

Makoto Naegi

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Yasuhiro Hagakure

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Mondo Owada

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Sakura Ogami

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Hajime Hinata

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Nagito Komaeda

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons

Babydoll | Smut

Gundham Tanaka

SFW Headcanons

N|S|F|W Headcanons