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osamusriceballs · 5 months

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The Accident - Part XVI

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: Stalking, kinda dry humping

Words: ~ 2,5 k

About: Y/n and Atsumu finally TALK. And more.

Part I II -> Next Part

A yawn escapes your lips as you slowly open your eyes to a dimly lit room. It's probably the middle of the day, judging by the way it looks outside. You surprisingly feel fully rested, with Atsumu still peacefully snoozing behind you, his arm loosely draped across your stomach. Your mind races back to the events of the previous night, causing your heart to skip a beat.

That woman.

Atsumu needs to do a lot of explaining to make up for that. If there is even a way to make up for that. You still don't know anything about her, but she for sure gives you the chills.

Maybe it was a mistake. To stay with him- even in the same bed, and to allow your heart to get that foolish hope again. But you're just human, and it seems like your heart isn't so easily convinced that he's not good for you.

You sigh and reach for your phone on the nightstand, noting how late it is—2 pm. Shocked by the time, you check your messages and spot surprisingly many from Osamu Miya and hesitantly tap on them.

Osamu: hope yer alright

Osamu: let me know when you’re home

Osamu: did ya fall asleep?

Osamu: thank you for your help. I owe ya. Call me if ya need anything. Stay safe.

Osamu: good morning. Grab that idiot and come over to Onigiri Miya when yer awake. Or come on your own when he messes up. Drinks are on the house for you.

Osamu: not for Tsumu tho. He can pay double

A smile plays on your lips as you respond quickly.

You: hey! Sorry for the late reply, I fell asleep. Atsumu‘s still sleeping. I‘ll talk to him and let you know if we‘re coming. Thank you for the offer! :)

Osamu: sure. see ya

You: see you :)

Your attention is diverted when Atsumu stirs, his arm now wrapping around your waist as he clumsily pulls you closer. He groans and nuzzles against your neck, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. Is he aware that it's you he's holding? And does he even remember last night? You somehow doubt it.

"Y/n?" he mumbles after a moment, and your eyebrows shoot up, but you respond with a soft hum and nod.

"Yer—how?" he slowly questions, his face still heavy with sleep. You gently take his hand and remove it from your waist, scooting away enough to turn and face him. His eyes are tired, his expression soft while he fights to fully wake up. You just hope that he doesn't feel too horribly after all that drinking. His team will kill him for sure if he has practice today. You really hope that it's his day off.

"I brought you home. Remember that you had a few drinks at Onigiri Miya's?" you say, trying to sound neutral, though bitterness lingers in your tone. He stares at you blankly until embarrassment and guilt crease his features.

"Yeah, right. I'm—y/n, I'm sorry for that. Thank ya for bringin' me home. I'm just kinda... havin' a hard time." He closes his eyes for a short second and takes a deep breath. He suddenly looks so exhausted that it almost breaks your heart.

"Hard time with what? Work?"

He shakes his head, closing his eyes again, and a weariness settles over his face, despite the ample sleep you both received. "Work's fine. Great, actually. Gotta play with some real amazin' players. I even got to see Aran often again; that's fine. Just..." He opens his eyes, sadness evident. "Just?" you prompt, your heart skipping a beat at his gaze. You know that it has to do with you—you just don't know what exactly it is. And the urge to interrogate him is burning strong in your body.

"I never got the chance to talk to ya after that night," he admits. You nod, urging him to continue, to finally give you some answers. "I wanted to apologize. For kissin' ya. I made ya uncomfortable, ruined everything."

Your confusion is palpable—just what is wrong with him? He should tell you about that woman and not that! And that definitely didn't sound like he wanted to do it again, which feels like a stab to your heart and somehow angers you.

"Uhm... Atsumu, that was not quite what I expected. Like, sure, I've been thinking about that kiss and my feelings for you, but I was more taken aback when you blocked me and invited another girl over, literally the same night we had our kind-of-date."

His face drops after listening to you, confusion and worry etched on his features. "What are ya talkin' about? I never blocked ya, and I sure as heck didn't invite any other girl here. Hell, I don't even talk to women outside of work. Who should I bring here?"

"Brunette? Perfect smile and wearing one of your shirts? Could hardly miss her on my way down. Or when we met her yesterday. Do you have her over at your place every night?" you retort, ignoring his repulsed expression at your description of her. You could almost believe that he doesn't like her at the way he scrunches his nose.

"Her? Ya met her? Yesterday?"

You nod, narrowing your eyes as you recall her vicious features after that scene. But wow, you were definitely embarrassing. How you acted possessively towards Atsumu. Will she laugh about it with him as soon as they meet each other again?

His reaction surprises you, though; he suddenly reaches for you, pulling you a bit closer. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for gettin' ya involved in this. Are ya okay? She didn't do anything to ya, did she?" You stare at him, confused, and shake your head. His worry confuses you. Why bother after not talking to you for so long?

"Can't believe she dared to come here again. If ya ever see her again, you have to call the police. I have a restraining order against her." Your eyes widen surprised at his words and you frown.

"Restraining order? Is she... like a crazy ex?" Dread fills your stomach at the thought, and a suspicion arises within you.

He slowly shakes his head. "She's a very obsessed fan, to put it nicely. She's been stalking me for a while. Started innocently; I noticed that she came to Onigiri Miya every time I was there too. Then I noticed her when I went for walks every other day, always waitin' at the same spot for me and trying to talk to me. And then one day, I noticed that stuff from my apartment started to go missing. That was like two years ago. I contacted the police after I caught her breaking into my apartment, and she got arrested. Haven't seen her since then, but she started showing up since that one night with ya." He groans and you can see just how much stress this situation caused him. He looks so tired while talking about it, it almost breaks your heart.

"I don't know how she found me again," he continues. "She broke into my apartment, and I had video proof fortunately, so I could file a case, and I have a restraining order against her now. She can't show up again, or she'll land in jail. I also had to get a new phone and number; she did something with it. Tried calling ya with the new one, but ya never called back."

You listen to the story with watery eyes. That woman is actually a stalker?! And he had been suffering like that all the time? Tears well up, and you try to calm yourself. So he wasn't ignoring you on purpose. He actually tried to reach out, and you probably ignored his messages, and he felt miserable because he put you in that situation. Hell, someone broke into his apartment. This must have been horrible for him. You're just glad that she at least cannot legally come here again. Even though it doesn't seem to stop her. A part of you hopes that she'll show up again. The thought of her in jail does sound kind of appealing to you- and not just because you were kind of jealous before. She is danger, and you pray that she won't show up again. Maybe she'll stop now that she knows that he's taken- even though she does not seem to respect boundaries. Your thoughts are running, you don't even know what to say at this point. How could you be mad with him after this?

A ray of hope suddenly flashes before your eyes, and you feel your heart flutter. You know that it's selfish to think about your foolish feelings, to think about how much you like him and to wonder if he reciprocates these feelings. But this means that you might mean something to him. This means that he might like you just like you like him, if he has tried contacting you and kept his distance to protect you.

"So... uhm... you weren't ghosting me because of the kiss?" You feel so, so foolish for asking, but your heart longs for confirmation. You'll deal with the stalker after finally finding out about his feelings. After waiting for him for so long, you need to know.

"I didn't want to ghost ya at all, y/n. I really like ya." His eyes catch yours, and you feel butterflies in your stomach once again. He doesn't seem to mind that you changed the topic like that and you know that you look at him like a hopeful lost puppy. He still has that magical effect on you. Everything just feels so right with him, like you're just where you belong. He's so close; you could probably count his lashes, and you can see the flecks of different shades of brown in his eyes.

"I was actually... really sad because we parted like that. I didn't mean to give you the impression that something's wrong—I just thought you'd see this as a game, and nothing more. That I'm just an easy way to spend time for you. Nothing more." You feel so vulnerable when you say these words, but he quickly shakes his head, looking at you with hurt in his eyes.

"I'm sorry. Y/n, I'll make it up to ya, 'kay? Please. Let me make it right." You melt at his words, only managing to nod. "O-okay." This feels like a dream come true. You can't believe that you're making up with him like this- after carrying his drunk ass home and sleeping in his bed. But you just feel so good when you're with him, and for once you decide to be selfish and to take what you need.

He looks at you, clearly stunned. "Okay? Just like that? I was ready to get on my knees to beg for forgiveness and to buy some more diamonds for you." A soft laugh escapes your lips, and he seems to lighten up at your reaction too.

"Making up to me could definitely include some groveling. I wouldn't mind seeing you on your knees, actually. I don't remember you getting on your knees for me ever, even though we are married." You smile, feeling the tension leaving your body. Only he can make you feel like this.

"Oh?" He grins, and you suddenly feel giddy. "Let me refresh yer memories then." He jumps off the bed, lively and energetic suddenly, and you look at him stunned. "Come here." He pats the edge of the bed, and you slowly crawl there, probably not very elegant, but Atsumu still gazes at you like you're a princess that graced him with her presence. You sit up hesitantly, looking at Atsumu right in front of you, who smiles fondly and smoothly sinks down to one knee. He looks devilishly handsome with his disheveled hair, and you can't do anything else but stare at him. Is this a dream?

"Y/n Miya, I know I don't deserve it, but would ya give yer husband another chance? I promise to make ya happy and to never keep secrets like that from you ever again. I'll be whatever ya want me to be just to keep you happy." Your jaw drops at his words and you can't stop the butterflies in your stomach.

"Wow, uhm, that sounds pretty serious." You breathlessly laugh and he smiles with a sincere expression that makes you blush.

"I am. I kinda..." he sighs, running a hand through his hair, making it even messier and he looks even more attractive like this. "I kinda wanna go on dates with ya. Like real dating. Not just getting along because of the marriage thing."

You stare at him, not having expected this kind of answer. He's actually serious about this? And wants to go on dates with you?

"So uhm... what do ya say? Is that alright with you?" He looks bashful, and you finally manage to come up with a response, the one that your heart is longing for.

"I'd love to." The words come out softly, and you smile fondly at his reaction and the way he seems to light up. You don't even have time to realize what's happening- and then he suddenly raises just enough to be at eye level with you and then simply connects his lips with yours in a sweet kiss. You gasp, surprised, your hands coming up to his shirt to ground yourself, but melt into the feeling, allowing him to cup your cheeks and angle your face towards him to deepen the kiss.

This is not what you had expected at all, but feeling his lips against yours, his body pressing against yours—it's enough to make you feel hazy and giddy. You need more; you need to be closer to him. So you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer while leaning back until he's laying on top of you, urging him to stay close to you. He rests most of his weight on his arms, yet you still feel him on top of you, his body pressing gently against yours .

You open your lips, and he instantly uses the chance, softly licking against your lower lip before he slightly moves his tongue to meet yours. His hips press against yours, harder suddenly, and you can't help but wrap your legs around his waist and pull him down to you.

The position is intimate. Your most sensitive part pressing against his middle, and you suck in a sharp breath when you feel something growing in his pants the longer you keep kissing him. Your hands claw into his shirt when he carefully grinds against you—and you whimper against his lips needily, feeling heat rush through your body.

You both know this is where you should stop; you both have only solved your issues like five minutes ago, and some more things definitely need more clarification, but that's the least thing on your mind now. You- you want him.

And you breathe heavily when he pulls back, his lips wet from your combined saliva, looking unfairly hot with his dark widened pupils while he looks at you intensely.

...

TO BE CONTINUED

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dangans-ur-ronpas · 3 months

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Chapter 17

continuation of byakuya's no good very bad worst shit ass day of his life (so far)(!!!)

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

this chapter went a little different from how i originally planned bc I was going to make byakuya much more stupid. but. he needs to fly off the handle several times later so. we can't let loose all at once

to be very fair to makoto he did not want to do that. and yet. here we are

the king of kings!! @digitaldollsworld

Content warning tags: ableist language from various characters, Byakuya's panic spiral, mild self-harm reference

< previous - from start - next >

Time seems to grind to a halt. His breath is still caught in his throat, halfway through a relieved sigh as he had been waiting - expecting - for Makoto to help him. To pull up some vague, hidden piece of evidence to clear him of any suspicion, to cleverly point out some irrefutable proof that had previously lay unseen.

But instead - his heartbeats feel too heavy. His breathing feels too light, deprived of any real oxygen. His head pounds in the same way it did when he was struck earlier, with a dull, pulsing ring that washes out everything around him.

He prided himself, once, on being able to read a person’s intent. To judge just when and why they might choose to abandon him, to cross him, to try and use him for their own intents. For that reason, he supposes, is why this sickly, sticky feeling of dread is so new to him. He’s never known real betrayal before.

His eyes dart around the room, but the others don’t seem to believe Makoto just yet. Even Owada seems taken aback, stock still and quiet. Only Kirigiri seems unsurprised - or maybe, he was only imagining it, the tranquil quality of her silence. As if she were merely observing it all, far out of their reach.

“Seriously??” Syo’s voice is a grating jeer. “You’re telling me this whole time he had no idea what I looked like? No wonder he didn’t fall for me at first sight!”

“I…don’t think that’s the reason why,” Hagakure says, though he seems utterly bewildered. “But, that can’t be right, right? I’ve seen him reading loads of times. And he practically lives in the library, y’know?”

“Yeah, and he can do things just fine for himself.” Asahina says in agreement. “I mean, he does his own laundry and stuff, and he knows this place way better than me at least. I didn’t even know where the A/V room was during the first motive, I just sorta followed him.”

“Yes, this is sort of…” For the first time, Celeste sounds genuinely surprised, her usually unphased demeanor wavering, her accent slipping for a moment. “Ahem. While I did note that he sometimes seemed a bit…eccentric, so to speak, nothing of his actions suggested that he was impaired.”

Their skepticism is a small relief. He nods jerkily, unable to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth to verbalize his agreement. But it’s a small, pathetic movement that goes unnoticed, hardly amounting to anything in this large courtroom.

And their disbelief only goes so far. Ogami speaks up now, for the first time since the trial began, her low voice immediately silencing the whispers.

“I performed a concussion test on him earlier,” She says, gruffly. “As Kyoko had asked me to. He was lucid when answering my questions, and he didn’t seem to exhibit any symptoms that couldn’t be attributed to other reasons.” There’s a slight creak of wood, as she shifts her weight on the stand. “However, I did notice that his pupils were…strange.”

“My- what?” He sputters now, too suddenly, too loudly. He reaches up to touch slightly-trembling fingers to a closed eye, feeling the smooth bump of the cornea twitching beneath the thin skin of his eyelid as if he might be able to identify the damage that way. Why hadn’t she mentioned this earlier? Why bring it up now? “What do you mean, ‘strange’?!”

There’s a slight, panicked edge to his voice that he hopes no one catches, but this was the first time he heard that there could be physical evidence to his affliction. “It was a bit hard to test without the proper tools, but I noticed that they do not react much to changes in light.” Ogami explains. “The shape is also slightly…off. If I had to describe it, I would say that there is…a warping around the edges.”

“And you didn’t think to mention it?!”

“I assumed it was either due to the head injury, or, it was genetic.” There’s an apologetic note to her words. “Given your usual behavior, I…didn’t think it was important.”

Not important. As if she could know what was important here.

“I. Am not. Blind.” He snarls stiffly. “Obviously, I have never taken a close enough look at my own pupils to notice that deformation, but it has never affected my daily life. I am not disabled, nor have I ever been.”

“I find it hard to believe that you have never been aware of it.” Kyoko remarks, tone clipped. “I can’t imagine someone of your status being ignorant of anything concerning your physical health.”

“Then you can rest easy knowing that I am perfectly healthy.” He snaps back, venom flying off his words.

Distantly, he knows that he is digging a pit for himself. That admitting to this would help clear him of any suspicion at all. But he doesn’t care; he would rather die than suffer such indignity. That was what he’s always known, taught by his butler, and then reinforced by all his surroundings afterwards, his siblings, his father - better to perish and let your enemies cry with relief and count themselves lucky, than let them mock you as you dig your own grave.

“You should just admit it already. You are drawing this out to be unnecessarily long, or would you rather doom us all?”

“I don’t see why I should cooperate with someone who has been making mindless accusations at me all this while.”

There’s a tense, snappish tension between him and Kirigiri. A livewire current. A piece of elastic stretched taut. He glares, and to him, her blurred form looks like that of a reared snake.

“Um…” Asahina speaks up, her hand tentatively raised. “If Byakuya’s really blind, can’t we just test it?”

“Excuse me?”

“I-I mean! Not saying that you are blind, or anything,” She says this quickly, carefully, like soothing a spooked horse. “But, we’re not going to get anywhere if you two just keep arguing back and forth, and it’ll be really quick! Like, Sakura, can you hold up a few fingers?” She complies silently, one arm remaining crossed across her chest, the other raised to her side. “How many is she holding up?”

He tries not to squint, but he has no idea. Two? Three? It's nothing more that a blurred, brown shape. “You can’t be serious.” He almost laughs, but the sound he makes is derisive and bitter.

“Y-yes, this is-! Unfair!” Now it’s Yamada, speaking up again. “In case no one else has noticed, Mister Togami is lacking his spectacles! Asking such a thing of him…it’s akin to bullying!”

He’s oddly assertive about this, and Byakuya watches as he pushes his own glasses a little higher. For some reason, being considered something of an equal by Yamada irritates him further. “Shut up.” Who asked for his help.

“Yes, be still please,” Celeste sighs dismissively. “We are playing a game with our lives. This is hardly the time to be discussing moralistic issues.” There’s a slight metallic tap as she raps her silver finger guards against her rings. “But you do make a point. Byakuya does not have his glasses at the moment. It would be difficult to try and confirm anything without them.”

Thank goodness for those with common sense. He doesn’t look to his side, where she was standing, but he swears that he can see her eyes glancing at him, the unnatural red of her pupils bright on her pale face. “Yes,” he agrees, seizing upon it. “And they were broken earlier, thanks to Owada. Nearsightedness runs on my mother’s side, and the former Togami head was farsighted. I will admit that much, is that what you wanted? Kyoko?”

He’s rambling. He’s aware of it. But there are a few nods exchanged, and Asahina scratches at the back of her head awkwardly, as if embarrassed. Kirigiri, however, is still unmoved.

“No. When I say you are blind, I do not mean without your glasses. Or there wouldn’t have been a point in bringing it up in the first place.” Kirigiri shifts her weight slightly, the sway of her stance accompanied by the creak of wood. “Even without your glasses, you cannot do tasks such as reading. I imagine you’ve managed everything else by means of careful practice, but this is the one thing you can’t manage on your own.”

“Hey, Kyoko-” Makoto looks nervous, unsure whether to face him or her. “That-”

“And how do you plan to prove this?” Byakuya snarls. He feels a small flare of triumph, even despite everything, the looming threat of death. “As we found before, I don’t have my glasses. Did you happen to pick those up as well? Did you repair them for me while you were at it?”

Instead of offering a retort, or any sort of reply, she sighs. A soft, tired sound.

“Makoto.” She isn’t facing the other boy, but her tone is firm as she addresses him, and a little exasperated. She doesn’t say anything more, but Makoto seems to understand, and his hands drop to his sides.

“There is a way to prove it.” His voice is quiet. Quiet, and…sad, somehow. Defeated. “Byakuya…please show us your handbook.”

The realization sets in slowly. He’s already been betrayed by Makoto twice now, but still, he finds himself stunned, slack-jawed. This one was the worst by far - not only was he actively helping Kirigiri, he was betraying Chihiro as well, risking revealing everything to that accursed bear. And after all the lengths Byakuya had gone through to protect this secret.

“What are you saying,” He says, and his voice has a humiliating tremor that matches how his hands shake, clutching at the rail. Surely, he’s heard wrong. Surely, Makoto would correct himself, take it back-

“Your handbook. Chihiro, he…he put a program on it that lets you be able to do stuff like tell the time. It also reads stuff aloud. And he did it after the motives got revealed, that night when Celeste saw you guys leaving the bathhouse.” He sounds so somber, so sad and grieving. He won’t meet Byakuya’s eyes. “He did it in exchange for you teaching him how to be strong, and self-confident - which you did, by telling him to go around talking to everyone else today.”

Without really thinking about it, his hand goes to his inner jacket pocket, where his handbook sits. His fingers close around the little device, the hard edges of plastic and metal pressing into the creases of his palm. He feels a little like he’s been shot.

But he doesn’t bring it out. He glares instead, furiously, hatefully, at the boy standing just meters away. He - and Kirigiri too, most likely, Byakuya suspected that Makoto had already revealed everything that that woman - knew perfectly well the importance of Alter Ego, and why it could not, under any circumstances, be revealed. And they knew Byakuya was aware of this too, and they were holding this fact hostage, over his head.

(I could, some sore, beaten part of him thinks with poisonous intent, try and claim responsibility for Chihiro’s murder. I could say that they’re wrong. That I lured Chihiro to the bathhouse with the intent of making him less wary, easier to isolate. That he was so weak and trusting and stupid that killing him was a simple manner. That I mimicked Syo’s modus operandi to throw suspicion off of me.)

The mere thought was shameful, but it was his pride, wounded and bitter, that was seriously considering it, if only for some semblance of control. The barest reassurance that he had any real weight at all in this trial. And all he would need to do is open his mouth and say the words.

But instead, he bites down on his inner cheek, hard enough for blood to trickle out the corner of his mouth, hard enough for the pain to rival the buzzing in his temples. And tightens his grip momentarily, just enough to feel the faint, humming warmth of the handbook against his sweating palm, and exhales slowly.

“...Fine. Fine.” He spits, angry, defeated, exhausted. He’s sick of this. He just wants it to be over. “Yes. I’m blind. I have been so since we first woke up in this school. Are you happy now?”

Makoto looks down, his face shadowed by his hair. Kirigiri tilts her head slightly, a motion that’s not quite a nod but more of a bow.

“Wait, so then-” Asahina’s voice, confused and a little hesitant, pipes up. “If you’ve been…y’know, this whole time, but only after we got to this school…does that mean the Mastermind did this to you, somehow?”

“That’s what I would like to know, myself.” He turns to look at Monokuma, and finds the bear lounging across its throne, a bucket of popcorn resting precariously on the armrest. The repugnant toy giggles, and swings itself upright, spilling a handful of white puffs all over.

“Gosh, I wonder?” The thing taps at its chin, voice taking on a wondering tone. “Of course, I want this game to be fair and give you all a level playing field. I believe in equality after all! …Though this has made for so many entertaining developments, so…I figured I’d leave it as is. Besides, you’ve adapted quite well, haven’t you Mister Togami?” It cackles, paws clutching at its belly. “GIven how well you did hiding it from everyone, I think it’s fine if we leave it like this, don’t you think?”

He wants to cross the courtroom and throttle the stupid thing this instant. All he can do is glare murderously, lips twisted into a snarl.

There’s a sharp clap that has most people jumping. The source of the sound is Kirigiri, whose hands are raised, and pressed together. “Let’s move on.” Her voice is firm, with no room for arguing. “All we’ve done so far is clear one person’s innocence. We still need to identify the real killer.”

And that was it. The most disgusting moment of his life, over just like that, ended by her words. He knows that there’s bound to be some kind of punishment in store for those who interrupt trials, but he briefly wonders if he can get his hands around her neck before Monokuma can react.

Owada jerks at Kirigiri’s words, startled out of his own stunned silence. “W-wait,” He sounds panicked now, and of course he would be. His scapegoat is gone. “Then, if it’s not Byakuya, then who…?”

“Let’s consider what we know. Given how it’s not clear where the murder took place, it would have to be someone who had access to cleaning supplies or water, and has no alibi that can be verified when the murder occurred. For the most part, everyone here has an alibi that can be supported by at least one other person, but there are some that do not.” Kirigiri lists these calmly, and Byakuya imagines her cold gaze, flitting between each person in the room. “Mondo. Do you care to explain what you were doing prior to the body’s discovery?”

The effect is immediate. The other boy rears up, instantly furious. “The fuck are you trying to say? That I’m a murderer?!” He thunders. “Like I said earlier, I was taking care of my bro. You know that. Everyone knows that!”

“As you said earlier, Taka is currently compromised. He can’t give a testimony.” She shoots back without hesitation. “Your alibi is flawed.”

“Yeah? Well - well so’s yours!” He sputters. “Like- Syo might’ve been the one to find you in the bathroom, but that was just before Chihiro was found. Toko can’t say that you weren’t there the whole time, a-and even if you were, maybe the bathroom was where Chihiro died anyways!”

Owada may be stupid, but credit where credit was due, he was surprisingly quick to retort and pick at Kirigiri’s excuse. “I could not have cleaned up a murder scene in the bathroom so spotlessly in the time between Chihiro’s last sighting and the body discovery. As Makoto described earlier, the sinks of the bathroom were all dry-”

“There was that sheet, you could’ve used that before smashing Chihiro’s head over it. And there’s water in the toilets, right? And the girl’s bathroom was right next door!”

“...I’ll commend you for recognizing my perseverance. But I did not kill Chihiro.” She shakes her head. “If the only thing that will clear me is secondhand support to my alibi, then the only thing that needs to be done is to ask a witness. Toko?”

And she addresses Syo now, who just cocks her head for a moment, and shrugs. “I keep sayin’ to you guys, it’s lights out up there. There’s no telling when she’ll be back!”

Byakuya has had enough.

“Toko,” He says first, his voice low and hissing. Then, louder, building into a shout: “TOKO. Come out, NOW!”

“I don’t think it works like tha-” Syo’s words are cut off suddenly, and she collapses where she stands, like a puppet with her strings cut.

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#thpff #thpff chapters #danganronpa fanfiction #byakuya togami #byakuya mentally filing for a second naegami divorce #sorry this one took so long.....my frontal lobe. it is soup #combination filing taxes + applying for classes + applying for jobs + etc etc. it'll do it to ya #going to really really really try to get 18 up by sunday but if its delayed do u prommy not to be too mad at me. do you. pls pls pls #i jest tho. thank u to everyone who has been reading thus far i hope you continue to enjoy it or move on to other things #just knowing you were here even if just for a moment even if for the whole ride is enough for me #i hope this chapter is legible i cranked out the last half of it at 2 am on a half bottle of soju #also had to mentally go over everything twice bc ive been listening to His Dark Materials audiobooks and my writing was turning british #byakuya frothing furious angry defeated at the stand while kyoko is just. o<-< are we done yet. can we please talk about the murder #theyre both toxic here and making everyone bear witness to it #alright folks lets take bets now on who you think the killer is!!!

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