Each day has two choices of prompts except the last day, which is anything. If you’re still stumped, draw them h*lding hands or something similar.
August 3rd: Enclosed Space / Pining
August 4th: Travelling / Outfits
August 5th: Chores / Gifts
August 6th: Thanks / Nightmares
August 7th: Parallels / Privacy
August 8th: Family / Wedding
August 9th: Free Space
Why this date? 3/3 and 5/5, which are Fukawa’s and Togami’s birthdays, add together to make 8/8.
Other answers to questions can be found on @togafukaweek. If you still have questions, send an ask!
Thank you to the talented @otomegrandma for the art!
Hi, hi! I’m your pitch-hitter! Hope you enjoy! There’s a little bit of angst, but only in a ‘Fukawa’s childhood’ kind of way. Not between these two! I went with childhood friends, part-first date and partners in crime.
***
In fairytales, most little girls were princesses given happily ever afters, who lived in castles with conical roofs and befriended cute fluffy animals. That probably didn’t include stink bugs like the one that followed Touko home one day. Anyway, if they weren’t princesses, they became princesses, and they stayed princesses after the credits rolled.
One such princess was Cinderella. She lived with her stepmother and stepsisters, who abused her, starved her, enslaved her, until one day, Cinderella met Prince Charming and she was liberated from her cruel family and went on to live with her true love. From that day on, Cinderella lived happily with him in a beautiful castle.
Certainly not in a squalid house, like Touko’s. Certainly not with the family she was born into, like Touko.
“Is your neck made of rubber?” hissed Touko’s mother, with one hand gripping her daughter’s shoulder and the other jerking the hairbrush through Touko’s hair. Much like every other time, Touko winced and squeezed her kneecaps tightly as her head tipped in the opposite direction to the brushing.
Her mother glanced at the clock on their living room wall, only to then remember that it ran out of battery power a while ago, so she checked her wristwatch and grimaced, yellow teeth framed by nude, chapped lips.
“They asked us to be there in twenty minutes,” said Touko’s mother, and she gave Touko’s hair another tug. The brush didn’t get very far, and her expression contorted even more. “It takes ten to get to that restaurant from here, so they’ll be arriving in about ten to collect you.”
She took her hand off Touko’s shoulder and shoved Touko’s lower back. Any harder might have sent Touko tumbling to the floor and onto the food wrappers lying there. Instead, Touko just bent forward with a squeak.
“Get up! Get dressed!” demanded her mother, so Touko slid off the stool, feeling its uneven legs make the seat wobble underneath her as her weight shifted.
Keeping her head down, Touko scuttled up the stairs to her bedroom and closed the door behind herself. Her room contained a bed, a wardrobe and a desk. She opened her wardrobe, an old thing that came with the house, and stared at the contents. The back of the wardrobe was splintered from a past impact, and she could count the number of different outfits on one hand. Other girls in her elementary class boasted about new fashions, like how their parents bought them the latest in the Enoshima line, yet Touko had no choice but to pull out her school uniform, with it being the most suitable for the occasion.
As she braided her hair and dressed herself, putting the uniform over her vest and undies, a voice in her head re-emerged, wondering if this was a prank. After all, not many people as young as her, a mere ten years old, could say that they had been invited to lunch by the grandson of the president of Polanski Business Limited, if any could say that at all. She didn’t know anything about him, but her parents had been excited when they read the letter that had been addressed to Touko, marked ‘PRIVATE’, and they had relayed the information to her when she returned home from school that day.
The reason given for the request to see her, according to her parents, was that the grandson was interested in meeting her after reading the book she had published two months ago. To be honest, Touko didn’t feel too keen about the whole thing, imagining the grandson to be at least a decade older than her. Probably some slimeball interested in the female protagonist of her novel, who thought Touko would be similar. He would be someone that she had nothing in common with at all. Just a rich man born into wealth who didn’t know how the real world worked.
However, she couldn’t decline the invitation. Touko hadn’t even accepted it. Her parents did, and without having to ask them, she knew her parents wouldn’t let her opt out of this opportunity. Not if it meant more money for them.
She walked over to her desk and pulled on the drawer. It opened with a grunt. The sight of her stink bug inside of it brought a small smile to her tired face, and she hovered her finger near the insect’s head for a few seconds.
“I’ll see you later, alright?” she whispered. Kameko brushed her antennae against Touko’s finger.
As much as she would prefer to hide herself away, she knew her family would be waiting for her, so she shut the drawer, leaving it ajar, and stepped back. Touko looked down and adjusted her skirt, and only then did she notice a bit of dirt on her pleated skirt. Her stomach tightened. She didn’t know if it was dirt-dirt or a splatter of juice, and she was dabbing it with saliva and picking at the mark when the door flew open.
“There you are!” Touko’s other mother barked in the doorway, not caring that she had nearly startled Touko’s soul out of her body. “The limo will be here any minute. Come on, brat!”
Touko let go of her skirt and shuffled over to the door, barely able to hear her footsteps over the ringing between her ears. Her mother watched her approach without saying anything, and as soon as Touko was close enough, she seized Touko’s wrist and dragged her through the house, with Touko barely managing to keep up, staggering the whole way.
It was this mother that Touko accompanied out of the house and into the garden, where trash collected instead of flowers, sprinkled amongst the dirt patches and overgrown grass. They passed through the tall picket fencing that kept the garden secluded, and then headed down the street.
At this point, Touko’s mother released Touko’s arm, though Touko could still feel the imprints of her mother’s fingers burning against her skin through her sleeve. In contrast, the cool morning air clung to her face.
Neither spoke to the other as they walked. Distant traffic rumbled, and for the most part, she kept her eyes on the pavement. When she did look up, she stiffened, catching sight of her father, who stood at the end of the road with his hands in his suit pockets.
Her footsteps slowed, but not soon enough. The pair stationed themselves by him, with her standing between them.
He turned to them and showed more teeth as his eyes probed Touko. She hugged herself. Prayed her mind exaggerated the actual size of the wet patch on her skirt.
Finally, he looked away, but her guard stayed up.
“Don’t screw this up for us, Touko-chan,” he said in his gravelly voice.
Touko nodded. His eyes flitted back to her and flashed warningly.
“Speak when you’re spoken to,” he snarled.
She twitched like someone thwacked a ruler against the back of her hand.
“Y-Yes, Father!” she promised. He stared for a few more seconds before taking his eyes off her, but her skin continued to tingle as they waited in silence.
A minute later, a black speck appeared in the distance, and Touko’s father straightened his back and fiddled with his tie. Her mother tweaked the u-neckline of her dress, while Touko clasped her hands together, feeling her heart beat faster. As the speck drew closer, it began to shape, revealing itself to be a limo.
The windows, tinted black, disallowed anyone on the outside from seeing into the vehicle. Touko felt rather small when it pulled up in front of them. She had never seen a limo before, and though she knew they were big, she didn’t realise they were this long. Shortly after it came to a stop, the driver’s window yawned open, and they saw the chauffeur, an old man wearing a suit and a cap.
Touko didn’t notice the man make eye contact with any of them or even look at them, but he glanced at what seemed to be a photograph held in his gloved hand and gave a slight nod.
“We’ll have her back in a few hours,” he said.
Then he got out, walked alongside the limo and opened another door. He stood there, and not until Touko felt one of her mothers push her on the back did she realise that she was meant to get in. She hurried over, hesitated at the door, then ducked in.
Once Touko sat down on one of the plush leather seats, the chauffeur shut the door with a thud. Touko peeked out of the window, and though she could still see the faces of her parents, tinted black, none of them should have been able to see her.
Yet she felt their gazes on her.
Touko swallowed her heart back down. Her body thrummed. The limo started moving, and the faces of her parents began to recede. Even after the limo turned the corner and entered another street, she still felt their gazes on her, tied around her limbs with string.
Another man in a suit sat along from her on the row of seats. He didn’t talk to her, and she didn’t talk to him. His sunglasses were a double-edged sword. On one hand, she rather he didn’t stare at her, but though she couldn’t see his eyes fixed on her, she couldn’t tell for sure if he was secretly studying her or not.
She wiggled uncomfortably, but soon stopped, cringing as her seat squeaked with her movements. Staying as still as possible now, she peered upward. Above her loomed a dark ceiling dotted with small lights that reminded her of stars, and opposite her was a mini-bar with drinks she wasn’t old enough to consume legally.
Regardless of whether she could have any or not, she didn’t try. Didn’t want to. It tasted disgusting, anyway.
Roughly ten minutes later, they parked outside of a restaurant that Touko didn’t recognise outside of her parents chattering about it being mentioned in her letter that she never got to read. The chauffeur opened her door, and she hopped out. He turned away and walked toward the building. She followed.
Despite the fanciness of the place, no other vehicles were stationed in the carpark, and while she hadn’t been to a restaurant before, she knew this one was fancy. Speckled square panels intermingled with straight-edged windows on the building’s face, all very modern, and a scarlet brick floor surrounded the entrance. They passed under a canopy, silver font on a golden background, and the door opened automatically to permit them inside, like it deemed them worthy.
Inside was just as empty with only one table occupied, and even then, only by one person. Two, if one included the elderly man stood next to the seated boy.
Cream walls and crimson tiled flooring caged Touko in. Polished wooden furniture filled the open room, their accents the colour of standard rose petals. Everything that bled into her vision gave the restaurant warm hues, and it bathed Touko’s small body in it too. Touko trailed after the chauffeur, who seemed to be leading her toward the table with the boy, and she tried to figure out who they were before they reached there. Her first thought was that the elderly man was the boy’s grandfather and the president’s son, and the boy was the president’s great-grandson.
When they arrived at the table, Touko noticed no plates or cutlery had been set. The only things on the tablecloth, which resembled a blood splatter, were a paper folder and a book with a blank cover, all positioned where the boy sat.
She felt a bit queasy. Red. This place had a lot of red. Sometimes she visited decorator shops and browsed the paint aisles, taking card samples home with her so she could continue to examine the different shades in her bedroom. Not because she wanted to paint her room or anything, but to give names to the exact colours she imagined while scratching ink into her notebook.
“You can wait outside now,” said the boy, and the chauffeur left. Once he departed from the room, going back the way he came, the boy steepled his fingers and focused on Touko. His eyes pricked her and she wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a chill.
The boy looked about her age, but with a stern expression too hard for most children to be able to have. But she knew it possible because adults occasionally asked her if she was okay upon seeing those features clouding her face. Yet, his weren’t a fog like hers, but a lightning strike as clear as day. Blond hair framed his face, reaching his shoulders, and his bright blue eyes studied her from behind white glasses. While her frames were circular, his were rectangular, and he nudged up his glasses before lowering his hand back down.
“Touko Fukawa,” he said. No matter how seriously he spoke, he couldn’t hide that his voice hadn’t broken yet. He picked up the paper folder that had been resting by his elbow and opened it, then took out the contents and set the folder down again.
She eyed the stack of papers fastened together with a foldback clip. Their angle didn’t allow her to read what they said. The boy pinched the clip, released a single sheet of paper, and then let go of it so it snapped back into place.
“Let’s get straight to business, shall we?” he asked. He put down the majority of the papers and nodded at the chair opposite him.
Her legs didn’t budge. Only her arm moved, and even then, it didn’t feel like she was moving it herself.
“B-Business?” she said, hovering a crooked finger by her lips.
The boy inclined his head forward a little. “Yes. Is there some issue with that?”
He didn’t relent. Touko squirmed against his glare and shrunk back.
“I thought... Aren’t I meeting the grandson of the president of Polanski Business Limited?” she asked in a small voice.
“What? Yes.” Annoyance flickered on his face like the flame of a candle shimmering. It may as well have been a full-blown fire with how she jolted. He hadn’t even raised his voice. “I’m his grandson, Byakuya Polanski... but that will be Byakuya Togami in a few years, when I take over the Togami Conglomerate.”
She blinked. “Eh?”
Byakuya pursed his lips. Just like that, he went from hot to cold.
“You’ve wasted enough time,” he told her icily. “Sit down and then we’ll get to work.”
The table was flanked by four chairs, one of which he had already claimed. Touko shot a quick look at the old man, who stood motionless, staring into space like he was somewhere else entirely. He must have been Byakuya’s butler. She averted her gaze and lugged her chair back enough for her to sit on it, shuddering as it gave an awful screech.
After she sat down, Byakuya started talking again.
“Your debut novel isn’t the sort of thing I’d usually read,” he said, “but I read about it in the news. It’s the talk of the nation. It’s impossible for me to avoid hearing about it.”
Her toes curled in her shoes. The puzzle pieces in her head began to fit together. Everything so far pointed toward Byakuya being a reluctant fan of her book, who as the grandson of an incredibly wealthy man, could afford to hire out a whole restaurant and request her presence. But also, she noted, they were of similar ages, and they were at a table in a restaurant together. Privately. And surely Byakuya would want to marry someone one day. Perhaps someone famous. Or someone who would become famous.
So all this... could it have been...?
“After a week, I decided to read your book,” he said, looking her in the eyes and leaning in a bit, “and...”
... and here, the lights could have dimmed, maturing the colours in the room to sombre shades. The butler could have whipped out a candle and placed it between them, lighting it in the bat of an eye. A violin would start singing, and Byakuya would scoop Touko’s hands up in his, and he would say suavely,
... I want to know if you will be betrothed to me?
“Y-Yes!” she gasped, clutching her heart.
Opposite her, with his hands firmly on his side of the table, Byakuya quirked his brow and said, “What?”
Touko returned to reality with a crash and cringed. “I-I...”
“You didn’t even hear what I had to say yet,” he said as his lips curled into a sneer.
She willed the floor to swallow her up, chair and all, but it didn’t, and because she still continued to exist, he elaborated.
“After reading your book, I realised you have great potential,” he told her, and he didn’t laugh or even smirk. “Your prose captured many people’s attention. It made them want to date a person like the one your main character dated by the end. I hate romance novels, but even yours drew out an emotion from me... an unpleasant one, but one nonetheless.”
His face gave a quiver before grimly setting. In the beats during their conversation, when neither talked, her whirling thoughts made the silence loud. She swallowed, finding that her mouth and throat had become dry, but she didn’t want to ask for water. Well, she did want some, if only to give her something to do while she sat there, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask or even find the words. They evaporated off her tongue.
“You’re a genius, like me,” he said in a low, even tone, and he tucked a hand under his chin. He looked at her as much as she looked at him. “Even if you’re sitting there with a stupid face like that.”
Touko flinched and jerked a hand to her cheek.
“W-Who are you calling a stupid face...?” she asked, anger spiking in her chest. Hitching in her voice like nails down a chalkboard.
Byakuya was unperturbed.
“I have a proposal,” he said casually.
That made her waver. The ball of anger in her swooped down and rolled off somewhere, leaving a flutter in its place.
“P-Proposal?” she mumbled.
When he reached into his jacket pocket, her stomach flipped, and she imagined him whisking out a small box that clicked open to reveal a ring. Never mind that neither were old enough. That didn’t matter in the world of imagination. Her imagination.
As it was, moments later, he held out a small notebook and passed it to her. She took it and opened it. The first page was blank, and leafing through the rest, so were those.
“I want you to work for me,” he said while her eyes were downcast. “I have great plans in store for the world, and I want you to assist me.”
Want. Byakuya wanted her. The word ensnared her, and Touko barely breathed as she curled her fingers over her heart.
“I read your manuscripts,” he started, only to stop when she jumped in her seat. Her eyes darted upward and locked onto him.
“W-What?” she asked.
Touko didn’t give him any manuscripts. He offered Touko the stack of papers that he had got out the folder earlier, and she brought them closer to her face.
Reading the first line, her breath lodged in her throat with a choked yelp.
This was hers. Definitely hers. She recognised the handwriting, remembered writing it, and she held the papers, trembling. Trembling because she had kept this in a shoebox under her bed. And as she flipped through the other pages, she found more of her work. Work that she hadn’t let her parents take. Or read.
Horror clung to the back of her throat with its claws digging in, and the bitter, acidic ooze it secreted trickled all the way down to the pit of her stomach.
“What’s the matter with you now, for goodness sake?” asked Byakuya, somewhere in the fog consuming her thoughts.
“How... How did you get these?” she said, staring at her manuscripts.
“Your parents sent them to me,” he explained, confirming her suspicions. She tore her gaze off the paper, breathing shallowly. While she was teetering on falling apart, he didn’t so much as rattle. “You are incredibly talented, and trust me, if you weren’t, I wouldn’t bother. I assumed I would get more romance handed to me, but to my pleasant surprise, it wasn’t all that. One piece stood out to me... the one that referenced a shadow observing a young girl being abused. It seemed biographical. Was it?”
Touko knew which one he meant. And it was. She nodded.
If her parents had read it, she didn’t know if they would have included it. Maybe they hadn’t bothered reading it. They never read the novel she published. Or perhaps they had read it, but they didn’t think there was anything incriminating in it. In their heads, they were justified.
She wondered if they really were justified, if she was as rotten a girl as they and the rest of the world had told her she was for so long.
“I want you to work for me, Touko Fukawa,” murmured Byakuya. Light glinted off his glasses. “I have plans for the world, and you would be a great asset.”
It wasn’t with disgust he stared at her with, like her mothers. It wasn’t lust he stared at her with, like her father. It was something else, a light in his eyes, embedded in an otherwise blank mask. Touko didn’t answer right away, trying to locate a crack in what he said, one that would reveal his true motives.
No one ever wanted her because of her talent. People wanted her for a punching bag, as a pastime, as a target or more recently, for her newfound fame or for her money, which all went to her parents. No one wanted her because of her talent. Not really. Not until now.
“You... want to publish my books?” she asked, croaking slightly. She shook her head. “I already have a publisher...”
Byakuya waved a hand. “No, no. I told you, I have plans for this world. Don’t you think it’s corrupt, Fukawa?”
She pressed her thighs together and hunched her shoulders, unable to disagree. He tilted his head to one side.
“There are things that I’ve seen, that I’ve been through, that most people wouldn’t be able to even imagine,” he said, a child. Touko stared back at him. Thought she understood the reflections in his eyes. “Terrible... depraved acts. Violence. Betrayals.”
“Try me,” she blurted, a child too.
That made him hesitate. His mask slipped, and he showed genuine surprise. Not at what she said, but at how she addressed him. Next to him, for the first time so far, his butler stirred, and he seemed to inflate, growing in size, fists clenching by his sides.
Her stomach knotted.
“S-Sorry!” she said, smacking her hands together in prayer. “Please... Please don’t hit me...”
Seconds passed, filling her head with the wail of a siren. Byakuya blinked, then regained his composure.
“I don’t intend to,” he said calmly. He adjusted his glasses. “But you see the world for what it is, don’t you? It’s truly rotten. There are people high up who misuse their power, who don’t deserve it. Society has been poisoned, and I want to rebuild it. But to do that, we need to cut the strings of the puppeteers, and flush out all the impurities that are rife in civilisation.”
This didn’t sound like something that would come out of a child, but it did. His butler had returned to being stoic. She gripped her skirt. Slits of her knuckles blanched.
Byakuya offered his hand to her.
“I want you to be my publicist,” he said. “I want you to write for me.”
Touko bit her lip, sinking back in her seat. She eyed his hand like a snake was wound around his arm under his sleeve.
“M-My stories...” Touko mumbled. Her paper refuge. Their walls threatened to collapse in on her.
“You can still write your novels,” he said. “In fact, I demand you do. But I will also want you to come with me. Over the coming years and perhaps even beyond, we will be working closely together toward that ideal world. One without people like the villains in your stories.”
She sat up. Was about to take his hand.
“... but be warned. Once you accept this deal, you cannot go back on your word. Your life will be as good as over if you do,” he said. “But as long as you stay by my side, I will stay by yours.”
Her body tensed. She faltered, but their eyes met and with a surge of determination, she took his hand and shook it. Byakuya tried and failed to fight down a smile, a fleeting crescent that soon hid behind a cloud in the night sky, but even after his features hardened, she pressed the image against her heart. He had looked so beautiful.
Still did.
“Excellent. Pennyworth, fetch us the menus,” Byakuya said, and the butler marched away.
While the butler was busy, Byakuya reached into his pocket, pulled out a pen, and gave it to her.
“Take notes,” he said. She positioned the pen against the first page in the notebook, and he added, “We can eat afterwards. Don’t worry, I will pay for both of us. Now, there’s an academy that enrolls the country’s most gifted high school students every year. This would be the ideal place for the movement I have in mind. I was thinking, to appeal to more people, we could have a mascot of sorts.”
As he spoke, Touko wrote down what he said, and whenever he paused, she sketched bits onto a doodle in the margin.
Hello, I still haven’t received my gift yet. Any possible way to let us know when out gift might be done by? Thanks.
hi!
it should be soon. someone had to drop out during the exchange, so someone else had to pitch hit and make two gifts. i happen to be the other person waiting for theirs so i haven’t received mine either yet, but i’d double check with @matrioshka bc she assigned the person to you.
My piece for the @togafukagiftexchange ! My giftee was @penko-p and i’ve used the prompt “Let’s cook together”!
Sorry it took me ages, my previous tablet broke before X-mas orz i hope it was worth the wait!
“Your own Crystal Palace.”
Went with the prompt ‘Historical AU!’ Set in the Victorian era in London, a certain lady and her house’s butler have a dinner of their own in the belly of an exciting new beast, unbeknown to authorities of course.
Just like last year huh? I tried out a new shading technique and enjoy this one a letter better than just cel shading.
Hope you enjoy this! Many apologies for it being late.
Longtime lovers Byakuya Togami and Toko Fukawa had been living together two years to date, and she was typically the first to rise in the morning. Today, however, the curtains had yet to be drawn, and Byakuya was already up and at it. He was stretching in the wintry morning darkness, shirt off, but his torso was clothed in shadow. Toko hid her body beneath the heavy comforter they slept beneath.
“Must I always explain myself?” He replied, with an air of snark in his tone, “I’m in an adventurous mood, is all.”
She pouted and rolled out of bed, pressing her flat feet against the rug under the large bed. It was shaggy; she crinkled her toes in it.
“You’re never adventurous. I’m the one always suggesting new things. You know this.”
It was true. They both tended to be quite sheltered individuals, rarely coming out of their shells, but they found solace in one another. Toko was the one to want to try new things, if ever an occurrence. Byakuya went along with her, or minded his own business, if he so preferred.
“So? Can’t people change?” He asked that rhetorically with a grin. He was more than likely talking about himself, and in a gushing fit, Toko, softly squealed to herself over her boyfriend.
She did not answer his question and got up, slipping into some comfy house clothes and drawing the curtains. She huffed at the sight of the outdoors.
“Byakuya, dear,” she growled under her breath, “it’s pouring outside.”
“What? No, it can’t be. I read earlier this week that today was going to be a warm day.”
“Yeah, I think it is,” she pursed her lips. The view was a pleasant one, overlooking the heart of Tokyo, but the city was drenched in a layer of water. The window was a race track for raindrops. “Cause it’s not snowing, but it sure isn’t sunny or anything.”
Byakuya scoffed and turned away from Toko. She dejectedly stared towards him, and reached out, wrapping her arms around his now visible, clean and firm chest.
“Don’t bother with it. We can go whenever it’s clear out. I-I don’t even mind the cold, y’know? I just wanna be with you.”
He reached up and placed his hands over hers. Byakuya was proud of himself for, over time, instilling in his beloved a newfound sense of confidence, allowing her to feel good about her love for him. It was in poor taste for him to find romance in the fact that they, essentially, “fixed” one another, but he did. She thought of it as the betterment of two human beings, so the truth lies in the gray between the both.
“It’s alright,” he admitted, pulling away from Toko. He sorted through his drawers and slipped a casual shirt on. “Let’s go get some breakfast, shall we?”
The pair went into their kitchen and Toko began to cook up some eggs on the stove. Byakuya sat quietly at the small, rounded table they would dine at. He would usually read the papers, or a book, or use his phone or laptop, but instead, he was just watching the downpour outside, solemnly. As if he was a child aching to go hot and play, but the rain was preventing him from doing so.
Toko noticed his behavior quite suddenly. She was very observant by nature of Byakuya; always had been, even if it began creepily. Now, he grew fond of her worries—it meant she cared.
“Would you really like to go?” She inquired again, “I can fetch an umbrella from the closet. Our raincoats should be in there.”
He heaved a deep sigh and pressed his forehand into his palms. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
Toko rolled her eyes and finished the eggs for the both of them. She placed them on two separate plates and housed down her food. She tossed the dirty dish in the sink and stormed off to their bedroom, changing into a sweet, floral dress with tall, thick socks beneath it. She combed through her hair, sorted through the closet, and put her pink raincoat on over her clothes, and the large black umbrella they shared. Byakuya had eaten, but he was staring again.
“C’mon. I want to go to the park.”
He turned towards her blankly. “Let’s just go when it’s sunny. It’ll make for a better day.”
She shook her head and stamped her boot, much like a child throwing a tantrum. “Absolutely not, dear! Get ready, I’ll be waiting at the front of the building.”
Toko stayed true to her word. She left the apartment and within the next five minutes her love was down there with her in his dark blue raincoat and black clothes beneath. She handed him the umbrella, which he took, and held in his left hand so they both could be underneath it, protected from the terrible storm.
There were few people walking besides them. People rushing from car to building and vice-versa, mostly. Miserable looking folks grunted by. Byakuya appeared disgruntled as well, but in a more troubled way than miserable. Toko began to wonder if this was all such a good idea, but kept the doubt to herself.
The park was not too far away, and the two reached it in record time. She had her hands in her raincoat pockets, and would occasionally look up at Byakuya to observe his unchanging expression. He probably just wanted to enjoy a day outdoors at the park, maybe watch some random actors doing Shakespeare, or find a random cute kid playing on the playground and watch Toko go through extreme baby fever, or even just lay and have a picnic on the grass. But none of that was possible. She wanted him to enjoy the day, though.
“We can also come back when it’s nice, just in case there was something in particular you wanted to do.”
“That’s not possible...” He grumbled, but she did not hear him.
They sat on a wet park bench, staring at an empty playground with damp mulch at their feet. She leaned her head on his shoulder and admired him with her wide, circular eyes. He averted his gaze for a few moments, before succumbing and facing his girlfriend, and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She returned it eagerly, stroking his hair lovingly.
He pulled away and sighed. “I was hoping for a better day to do this, y’know.”
Thunder cracked in the distance.
“Do...what?” Toko asked, cocking her head in a similar manner to that of a dog.
“Well, you know,” he coughed anxiously, propping the umbrella up behind the both of them. He stood up from the bench, immediately dousing himself in the lukewarm rain cascading from the sky like a waterfall. He stripped off his raincoat, and in his drenched, casual clothes, wet glasses, and soaked hair, bent down and got on a single knee, and showed his favorite woman a glistening, silver band.
“Miss Toko Fukawa-“
Suddenly, the sky was not the only thing pouring with drops, as Toko’s soft face was coated within moments by salty tears of joy.
“B-B-B-B...”
She could not make out one word. Her lips were blubbering violently, and she pressed her hands to her eyes and cheeks, trying to savor the moment.
“Will you please, make me, Byakuya Togami, sole heir to the Togami Conglomerate, the luckiest man alive, and do me the honor of marrying me?”
The umbrella was pushed aside and fell off the bench as Byakuya was knocked back onto the soggy mulch by a now equally drenched girl, weeping into his chest cries of, “yes, yes, yes!”
He embraced her back, and in the moment, it felt like a warm spring day, laying in the dry grass, surrounded by blooming flowers of all shades. The rain dissipated, the thunder ceased, and the clouds parted like a spotlight on the gleeful ending of a drama, contemporary, but unexpectedly happy in nature.
pinlc-candy here with my exchange gift for @alumort! i tried to incorporate your prompts as much as i could with this. hope you enjoy!
***
"You know," said Monobear in a tone one would use to address those at a funeral, “when I trapped you all in here, I did so with higher expectations."
None of the six students glaring at Monobear replied. Not Makoto. Not Kyouko. Not Byakuya, Touko, Aoi or the other guy. They all frowned, sat around the same table in the cafeteria with plates of breakfast at various states of completion in front of them. Cutlery no longer clinked, and the smell of hot food had since waned. Monobear held its paws behind its back and as it peered up, none of them offered any sympathy. No smiles, no tilts of the head, nothing of the sort.
In fact, they gave the opposite. At one end of the spectrum, Makoto regarded Monobear with a creased brow, lips tight, nostrils flared, face all contorted, while on the other, Kyouko barely had a wrinkle on her face, but her lilac eyes were as cold as the morgue refrigerator. As for everyone else, they hovered somewhere in between those extremes of expression, or lack thereof.
Despite the silence, Monobear flourished a paw in front of itself and carried on talking to them.
"I know this isn't an island in a tropical climate,” it said. It bowed its head forward and tapped its paws together. “If it was, there would be a supermarket, a beach lodge... heck, even a music venue with a snort-worthy name. But you have to make do with what you have. I would have loved a sarcastic protagonist with a dark forgotten past or a plucky pianist. I'd even restrain my grumbles if I got a naive young girl running around with a speakerphone, even if she was wearing a short skirt that kept flashing her - "
"Get to the point," said Byakuya bluntly.
Monobear gave an exaggerated start. It almost tipped over backwards, flailing its arms, but instead of overbalancing, it uprighted itself, placed its paws against its cheeks and squirmed.
"Wah!" it went. "So curt! Alright, alright. I'll tell you."
It stopped thrashing about and eyed the other six, who all waited uneasily for it to elaborate.
"I've decided to set you some chores. You've been mooching off me long enough, and it's time you repaid me,” Monobear told them.
Aoi flinched her head back. "Repaid you?"
"But you're the one who locked us in here in the first place," Makoto pointed out.
Monobear slanted its head to one side and scratched its chin.
"Yeah, and I feed you everyday. And I give you clean water... yet I'm getting nothing back.” It shook its head. "Nope, you've gotta start earning your stay here. Starting next week, you’re gonna be doing chores. If you're not going to kill each other, you could at least help out around here. Unless you want to continue the killing game...?”
Aoi gave a little shriek. Yasuhiro winced, and Touko clutched her braids. The other three shifted. With a cackle, Monobear covered its mouth with its paws.
“I can throw a bone your way, if you want,” it offered. “I've got lots of them. Idol bones, gyaru bones, baseball player bones... and lots of different motives..."
Everyone turned to each other, exchanging glances in a silent conference. After several seconds of this, everyone fixed their eyes back on Monobear, and Makoto nodded.
"What do you want us to do?" he asked on behalf of his friends.
Monobear's red eye gleamed.
"Well, two of you have to do stock checks of the science labs and the infirmary, two of you need to treat me to a spa day, bath and massage included, and two of you need to train those chickens in the garden,” announced Monobear.
No one responded immediately. Then Kyouko lifted her hand. That simple motion drew the attention of everyone in the room.
She deadpanned, "I'm not giving him a bath."
"Me neither," Touko chimed in.
Byakuya pushed up his glasses in that supercilious manner of his. "I refuse as well."
Then, at the same time, Makoto, Aoi and Yasuhiro said, "Not me!"
They twitched and looked at each other. If the tension in the room had been any thicker, it could have been cut with a knife. Anyone peeping in would have thought one of them had murdered someone and the others were trying to figure out who did it.
“W-Well, two of you have to give that bear a bath,” said Touko.
Yashiro jabbed the air with his finger. "I want to train the chickens!”
Aoi pulled a face.
"I don't want to go to the science lab,” she said as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Or give him a bath...”
"I wouldn't mind carrying out the stock checks," said Byakuya. "I have no interest in livestock."
Aoi turned to him and raised her eyebrows.
"But chickens are so cute and fluffy!" she said, then she shrugged. "Well, it’s your loss. I don't mind training them.Teaching them tricks sounds fun!"
Just the idea of it brought a cute smile to her face. Her bright aura was in stark contrast to the gloomy cloud hovering over Touko, who scowled at her across the table.
"Well, you and Hagakure can't both tend to the chickens. Three of us already said we're not washing Monobear,” said Touko. Aoi broke out of her daydream.
"So?" asked Aoi.
Touko rolled her eyes. "If us three already said we’re not giving him a bath, that means two of you have to wash him still. It’s common sense."
Aoi only managed to open her mouth before Monobear burst out laughing. Whatever she planned to say, if anything, never came out, and everyone turned to Monobear.
"Sorry, sorry!” apologised Monobear. It wiped a nonexistent tear from its red eye. “I got carried away. You're all acting like I'm giving you a choice when I've already decided who's doing what."
Before Monobear had even arrived in the cafeteria that morning, it had already known who would be doing what. Each choice came with its own reasoning, which Monobear didn’t feel inclined to share, not even with you, the reader.
Aoi and Yasuhiro would have the honour of carrying out stock checks in various rooms in the school. Kyouko and Makoto would have the pleasure of treating Monobear to a spa day. Which, then, left a certain two individuals in the garden, with its beds of dirt, jungle-like greenery and patchy-planked chicken coop with wire fencing.
Those two individuals were Touko and Byakuya, of course.
That night, an hour before Monobear’s nighttime announcement was due to play, Touko paced her dorm room floor back and forth, back and forth, muttering, not once looking up at Kyouko and Aoi, who both perched on the end of Touko's bed. Kyouko sat with her shoulders pushed back and her arms folded over her chest, formal and stiff. Next to her, in contrast, Aoi slouched forward, elbows on her lap, cheeks propped up in her hands as she tried not to fall asleep.
Touko didn't usually allow visitors into her room, so one could deduce out how major a deal this was. She was going to be working with Byakuya. Together. With him. With. Him. Byakuya.
And Monobear could watch the whole thing play out through the surveillance cameras.
"... how many cheeses do we have in the kitchen?" asked Touko, as she battered her palm with her stubby-nailed finger.
She didn’t wait for anyone to reply. Didn’t give them the chance. Her pace didn’t falter. Back and forth, back and forth, she went.
"Byakuya-sama needs to be able to choose the cheese he wants.” Then Touko pursed her lips, wavering only in speech. “B-But is it not better to have a few cheeses that he likes, rather than have everything that’s available? Wouldn't that impress him more? Quality, not quantity, after all... It would be more thoughtful if I brought only cheeses he liked to our picnic..."
Aoi and Kyouko let Touko make a few more laps of the room.
“What about the chickens?” asked Aoi. Touko hesitated midstride.
“Huh? What do the chickens have to do with our date?” asked Touko blankly. Aoi straightened.
“You know... the chickens?” said Aoi in disbelief. She flicked her wrist. “The ones that Monobear told you to train?”
Touko picked at the corner of her lips. “Well, how hard c-can it be to train chickens?”
Written down, Touko’s response may have seemed confident, but in reality, she mumbled her words, not making eye contact as her gaze sank to the floor.
Oh, this was going to be hilarious.
Kyouko swept some hair behind her ear without a single crack of amusement on her face. “I hope your confidence is warranted, because I can’t imagine Togami-kun being pleased if you turned up seeming unprepared.”
For a few seconds, Touko didn’t move. Then she blinked once. Twice. Her slack features screwed up, warping in anger, and she came back to life - and flung herself toward the door so vigorously that she almost cast herself prostrate on the floor.
“G-Get out!” Touko hissed, gesticulating wildly. “I... I have to go to the library right now!”
As the three trooped out of the room, Monobear made a mental note to force Kyouko to give it a back massage.
For the next few days, Touko set up camp in the library, reading any book even remotely related to training animals. She did very little else, assiduous in her research like this was a final exam. Fortunately, Monobear stocked the library with books on the topic shortly after giving out the task, at the time claiming to be good friends with The Supreme Overlord of Ice who was also apparently an animal breeder. Occasionally, Touko’s classmates took pity on her and brought her something to eat, and other times, Byakuya would demand she leave the library and not return until she showered.
By the time the first day of their chores rolled along, Touko had drained the library’s resources, and after breakfast, she marched to the garden with Byakuya striding ahead of her. She fixed her eyes on him as they journeyed up the building, admiring his slender frame and the curve of his behind, bathing in his radiance until they stepped out into the garden.
Maybe Touko should have wondered what Monobear had in mind when setting such an innocuous task. Maybe she would have wondered had she not been preoccupied with the thought of spending time at Byakuya’s side even if they were training a bunch of chickens.
The ceiling and walls, painted blue, gave the illusion they had finally emerged outside after weeks barricaded in the school, but in reality, they were as caged in the building as before. However, while the sky was indeed fake, the plants spread throughout the indoor garden were real. Tufts of grass and weeds grew from the soil, and harmonious colours freckled the flowerbeds.
Largest of the plant life was a flower that towered above all else, its face rimmed with red petals. On one occasion, Monobear referred to it as a Monobear flower, claiming that handling it would infect the victim with a deadly, fast-acting poison. At its base grew speckled corpse lilies and unnaturally big venus fly traps. If one had a suicide wish and wanted to climb up the Monobear flower, they would have to wade through them first.
That is, if one could stomach such a stench. The surrounding flowers, as cute and fragrant as they were, couldn’t mask the odour of decaying flesh that one fell victim to if they ventured too close to the Monobear flower.
Neither Byakuya nor Touko wore their high school uniforms - that morning, they had woken up to find a box at the foot of their bed addressed to them. Inside wasn’t anything macabre like their parent’s skull, as funny as that would have been, but a baggy polyester one-piece outfit, right half white, left half pink. With long sleeves, pants legs, and an emblem on the chest that resembled Monobear’s head, they looked absolutely clownish.
No one said that specifically at breakfast, but their outfits invoked several smirks and snorts disguised as choking.
Monobear stretched out its arms in front of itself, positioning its paws in a way that created a rectangular frame, and within that frame stood Byakuya and Touko.
If its expression could change, its smile would have widened. Instead, the lighting on its face shifted.
“I’ve left some feed for you by the coop,” said Monobear. It motioned toward the aforementioned structure with one paw, where a cloth sack was slouched against it. They could hear the chickens clucking within the coop, even if they couldn’t see them from where they were.
Byakuya adjusted his glasses.
“What training are we supposed to give these chickens, exactly?” he asked.
“Oh, you know,” went Monobear vaguely.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t have asked.”
Monobear placed its paws over its mouth.
“Come on, use your brain, Togami-kun! Coming on command, herding them... Make them jump through flaming hoops if you can.”
Byakuya’s eyes widened for a moment, then his eyebrows lowered as his features hardened with determination.
“For some reason, they don’t seem to like me,” Monobear remarked, sounding downcast. It kicked at the floor, but it couldn’t keep up its saddened facade and burst out laughing. “Upupu... I’ll leave you two to it!”
And with that, Monobear left. To them, it seemed to disappear around the corner before vanishing into thin air. Really, though, it entered a trapdoor, one of many around the school, each leading to a cubicle that could fit a Monobear unit inside. At the same time as it stowed itself away in there, another Monobear appeared in another area of the school, coming out of a similar trapdoor, ready for its spa day.
But that was somewhere else. Not here.
Right here was the garden, thrumming with the sounds of wildlife playing over the speakers. There were insects, alive and everything, but they didn’t create enough noise by themselves to fill the garden. Byakuya approached the coop and peered through the wire meshing. Five chickens greeted his vision, fluffy white things with red features on their head, scraping the ground with their hard orange feet. His nose wrinkled as he studied them, and he didn’t turn his head as Touko sidled up to him. With one hand, she loosely hooked her fingers through the gaps in the wire, while her other hand gripped the handle of a picnic basket.
A few days prior, when she had rummaged through the storage room, she hadn’t really expected to find a basket in there, but indeed there had been one, hidden behind cans of beans. What she didn’t know was that Monobear left it there for her. After all, with a joke, one had to set up the punchline in order for there to be a punchline.
Touko glanced at the sack by the coop. It was filled with brown slithers. She read about them during her research. Mealworms. Her eyes strayed. Wooden batons sat next to the sack, with brightly coloured ribbons attached to them. Beside those, she noticed, were similar cylinders, only they had nails protruding from them instead.
She stiffened and forced herself to look at the sack again.
“That must be the feed,” she said.
Byakuya turned away from the coop to follow her gaze. Unlike Touko, he didn’t so much as quiver, strong and intense. He pushed up his glasses.
“We’re supposed to be training them, not feeding them,” he said, and he returned his attention to the chickens.
Touko licked her lips and glanced at him. For a moment, she seemed to forget what she was about to say, relaxing her body, beginning to melt into a puddle. Even the side of his face was mesmerizing. The shape of his nose. How he carried his pout. Everything about him. It took great strength to pull herself back together. She couldn’t let him down.
“It can be used to train them too,” she explained while he watched the chickens do nothing of note. “The c-chickens will see the feed and come to you like an otaku when a new figure of their fantasy girlfriend comes out, and while the chickens are eating from you, you’re meant to make a certain noise or signal. Then they will start coming to you whenever they hear the noise, expecting food, and eventually they will approach you without you having to make any signal at all.”
As she spoke, the chickens continued idling in the coop, none-the-wiser. She glimpsed them briefly before training her eyes back onto Byakuya. At no point during her explanation did he look at her, examining the chickens with his lips pressed together in thought.
That didn’t deter her though. Touko stood taller. Gripped the wire a bit harder.
“U-Using different signals, you can make them do other tricks, like flying onto your arm or walking across tightrope-like surfaces,” she added, prompting Byakuya to give a minute nod and stroke his chin.
“Ah. Positive reinforcement,” he remarked. “And that will work for everything we need to train them to do?”
That sounded almost like he didn’t know the answer.
“Mostly,” said Touko, her face surprisingly serious. The handle of her picnic basket slipped down to her elbow as she rubbed her hands together. “W-With herding them, if you aren’t able to make the signal, you can herd them using your arms or things like the sticks by the coop. You simply position yourself behind the flock, clap your hands and if they start to wander from the herd, you block their path.”
She paused, then pressed the tips of her index fingers together. A smile blossomed, bringing colour to her face.
“Dogs are handy for herding, but we don’t have one, and I’m only going to be a d-dog for you, Byakuya-sama,” she added.
Byakuya took a few seconds to process what she said.
He glowered. “Shut up.”
She jolted and slapped her hand over her mouth. His brow remained knitted as he looked over at the batons.
“Why do some of them have nails in them?” he asked.
Touko dropped her hand from her mouth, no longer grinning, and quietly said, “In case you want to use them instead of the other ones.”
Byakuya clicked his tongue, eyeing the spiked batons with scorn. She stooped her head. Hunched her shoulders. Shuddered as she inhaled.
“Pain... can certainly be a teaching tool,” she said in a low voice, and then she elevated her chin, like about to give an important speech. “W-With the right person - ”
“Stop,” he interrupted, showing his palm to her, and she did. He rested his hand on his hip and faced her. “Let’s get back to the matter at hand. Fukawa, you seem to know what to do. I will give you the honour of working under me.”
Her heart swooped. Almost stopped. Byakuya may as well have handed her the key leading out of this place. Or his underwear. She jerked her head back.
“U-Under you?” Touko spluttered. He glared, and she twitched into a salute, beaming. “G-Gladly! Roger!”
“It’s Togami,” he said. Either he didn’t notice any innuendos or chose to ignore them. He pointed at her before dragging his finger toward the feed. “Now off to work with you!”
His arms folded over his chest as he watched Touko spring into action. She put down her picnic basket, picked up the sack of mealworms and heaved it away from the coop. Once she had put some distance between herself and the coop, she reached a hand unflinchingly into the sack and lifted out a fistful of mealworms.
However, when she looked at Byakuya, she hesitated.
“Um... would you please open the hatch?” she asked, cringing as she spoke.
Byakuya cast her an annoyed look, but after a beat passed, he strode over to the hatch and unhooked the lock. Soon after he creaked the door ajar, one of the chickens poked its head out, while the others seemed content pottering about inside, plodding around in sudden movements like an animation with a low frame rate.
Touko squatted down, held her hand out, offering the mealworms, and let out a series of cheeps. The chicken in the entrance of the coop turned.
She shook her extended hand, and the chicken trotted toward her. Within seconds, the rest of the chickens emerged, and they followed the first one over to Touko. A smile tweaked her lips as she tipped the worms onto the floor in front of he. They began pecking at the ground. Byakuya craned his neck and couldn’t help from raising his eyebrows.
“Was that noise supposed to be the signal?” he asked.
“Mmhm,” she went with a bob of her head. She scooped up more mealworms and spilled them onto the ground so the chickens had more to eat.
He grimaced.
“I’m not keen on that,” he said. “It’s a ridiculous sound. I refuse to utter it.”
Touko looked up at him in shock.
“Y-You could never sound ridiculous!” she assured him.
Byakuya didn’t answer. Just narrowed his eyes. She lowered her gaze and clasped her hands together. While she was distracted by the chickens, Byakuya shuffled closer to them, keeping his body turned away from her. Soon he was standing only a few paces away from them, yet she still hadn’t noticed him move.
Seconds passed. A small pout tensed his features. He looked away pointedly and presented his hand to her.
“Give me some,” he said.
Touko snapped her head up. Her shoulders jumped, like she hadn’t noticed him draw closer, but once she got over the moment of surprise, she tilted the opening of the bag toward him. Wordlessly, Byakuya grabbed some mealworms and walked away stiffly, putting a bit of distance between them before he squatted down, holding out the mealworms.
The chickens ignored him, even when Touko pinched the opening of the sack shut. They nattered to themselves, taking in the spectrum of green surrounding them as they stepped about on the tessellating, brown pavement underfoot.
Byakuya sucked in air. His face darkened. Then, in monotone, he went, “Cheep, cheep, cheep.”
He shook his hand, and finally, one of the chickens acknowledged him. Him, the great and dignified Byakuya Togami, crouching down with some mealworms in his hand. The chicken strutted over with the others soon in tow. Once they had closed in on him, he dropped the mealworms by his feet.
Most would have found it amusing. Touko placed a hand over her heart. She found it endearing.
“Y-You’re such an expert!” she said, swooning, and she shot up to stand, to better marvel at him.
“I’m a fast learner,” he replied, unable to stop himself from grinning.
He studied the chickens for a couple of seconds before meeting her gaze. The joy on her face absorbed his smile, and he was back to looking serious again.
“You seem to know what you’re doing,” he said, and he stood up. “Have you trained animals before?”
“Not chickens, or anything this size,” she said, wringing her hands together. “I tried training my stinkbug once... b-but she didn’t want to learn, so I stopped.”
“A stink bug?” he repeated, squinting at her. She didn’t correct him, so he must have heard her correctly. “You’re joking, aren’t you? Training a stink bug? They don’t have a brain. It will be that it couldn’t learn, not that it didn’t want to.”
Her face spasmed, like he slapped her. Even her cheeks reddened like he had.
“S-Stink bugs aren’t stupid!” she blurted. It came out louder than she intended. He blinked. Hiked up his eyebrows.
“What did you say?” he asked calmly, and she tensed, but she didn’t stumble back, double over into herself, fall to her knees or anything. Her feet remained firmly rooted to the ground.
Touko trembled and her face had flashed hot. She opened her mouth, like she was about to shout something, but she quickly buried down whatever noise was brewing in her and squared her shoulders, seething instead.
Though he had seen her mad before, heard her grumble and grind her teeth, heard her cutting quips and death wishes, she never aimed this fire at him after he revealed Syo’s presence to everyone some time ago.
Byakuya stayed stony as his clear blue eyes surveyed her, sapphires embedded in a marble statue. When he raised his chin, his gaze glinted. A sliver of teeth showed as he parted his lips. Touko found her voice.
“T-Their brains don’t play as important a role as a human’s brain, but they’re still intelligent creatures,” she explained in a low, level tone, and her elbows tucked into her sides, hands kneading together below her chin. She didn’t quite meet his gaze, her eyes flickering between his mouth and the coop. “I f-found Kameko on my backpack when I came back one day from elementary school. Kameko followed me home, and up until I woke up here, she remained by my side. She understands me. She’s unlike any other...”
Well, either Kameko followed Touko home or someone put Kameko on Touko for a prank. One of the two. Byakuya’s lips curled, but not into a smile.
“Seeing as many insects can survive a few days without their head, I agree their brains aren’t that important,” he said. He nudged his glasses into place. “These are chickens, however. Not insects... but there is a case of a chicken surviving without most of its head for a year and a half. I believe it choked.”
Only she could see the disturbing image that he had conjured of Kameko. Touko shoved past it. Kameko was okay. Kameko had to be. Her lips twisted, with her brow crumpling too. She let go of her hands and seized her onesie’s trouser legs, taking two handfuls of fabric into her palms, and breathed.
Byakuya inclined his head to one side, regarding Touko with interest. “After we escape this place, I may have to see this stink bug for myself.”
When she made eye contact with him, her heart leapt. Her breath caught. The image of Kameko decapitated flooded out of her mind as his face took over.
Even though he wasn’t touching her, it was like his hands were skimming across her body. Touko could feel the air move around herself, causing her to shiver. This time, it wasn’t because he had insulted stink bugs. It wasn’t anger, frustration, offence or anything like that. She basked in his glow.
“Chickens are quite easy to train,” she said to him, beginning to perk up. Touko couldn’t stay mad at him. In fact, she appreciated his honesty. “I don’t think it will take too long to teach them to come on command.”
“And how do you know this if you’ve never trained them before?”
“I read some books in the library,” she said. “I spent hours researching. D-Didn’t you?”
There was no accusation in her tone, no hard glint in her pale eyes, just an innocent look and an innocent voice, yet he shifted with a defensive expression on his face.
“... I didn’t think I would have to,” he admitted. He slapped on bravado, placing his hands on his hips. “And it turns out I was right. After all, you are doing a fine job.”
Touko gasped, blushing, blinking a lot. “T-Thank you!”
“Yes, everything is going smoothly,” he mused, bringing up a hand to cup his chin. His eyes clouded with thought. “After they’ve learned to come on command, shall we get to training them to jump through a flaming hoop?”
She didn’t understand what he said for a second. Then she did.
“W-What?” she said, raising her arm in front of herself.
Byakuya continued cradling his chin thoughtfully.
“There must be something we can use as a hoop lying about. Perhaps there is one in the gymnasium?” he pondered aloud, all the while Touko was gawking at him. When his arm sprung forward to point a finger at her, she yelped in surprise, like he shot her. “Hey, Fukawa...! Fetch me a hoop. You have five minutes.”
Touko mumbled, “I don’t think Monobear was serious...”
“Get it for me!” he demanded a little louder. She straightened sharply.
“Right away!” she said, and she sped off with speed that her frail frame gave no indication of possessing.
Even if Monobear hadn’t meant for them to actually teach that, Touko couldn’t pass an opportunity to spend more time with Byakuya. As he said, the gymnasium had some hoops in its closet, and she returned with one within four minutes.
“Plastic,” he remarked, shuffling it around in both hands. His brow furrowed. “We won’t be able to set this alight. It will melt.”
“We can still use it for practice,” she pointed out. He looked at her and she elaborated, keeping her hands in front of herself. “We reward the chickens for interacting with the hoop, then we train them to go through it when they’re on ground level. If we do that while making a certain noise, we can train the chicken to go through the hoop whatever level the hoop is on... with or without snacks... and with or without the signal...”
The gears in Byakuya’s head spun. He nodded.
“Yes,” said Byakuya slowly. “We can do that easily. Alright, let’s begin.”
Byakuya took one step before Touko darted in front of him.
“B-But we should have a break first!” She waved her hands and added quickly, “W-Why don’t we have the picnic I prepared?”
“Picnic?” he repeated. He turned his head and laid his eyes on the basket by the coop. “Ah, so that’s what is in that thing you brought.”
As opposed to what, she didn’t know.
“Have you never been on a picnic?” she asked him. Byakuya glared.
“Of course not,” he retorted. “Those only happen in novels. Have you ever been on one?”
Now that was an accusatory tone. Touko cringed.
“N-Not with another person,” she told him, fidgeting. She hurried over to the basket and scampered back with it. “But that’s alright! I m-made it specially for you.”
He eyed it warily. “I don’t want to eat anything you’ve touched. Your germs will be in it.”
“No, they won’t be!” she insisted, as romantic as she might have found that, and she set down the basket, straightening up quickly. “I washed my hands before, and I even took a shower. See?”
Touko thrust her hands at him, showing her palms a bit too close to his face for his liking. Byakuya receded an inch and hesitated, but rather than command her to distance herself, he pushed her arm down gently. Though he only touched one, both fell at the same time. Her fingers curled into her hands and she held her breath.
His face filled her vision. Long lashes, pursed lips and all. Then he bent down, gradually. Leaned toward her. Touko nearly choked on her breath. She swallowed and tilted her head back, fluttering her lashes as she shut her eyes.
The world faded away around them. All she could see was the pink aura radiating from her body that surrounded them, sparkling as it engulfed them in its cloud. Only they existed. Only they mattered.
This was really happening. Byakuya was getting closer. And closer.
He sniffed her loudly.
“So you have bathed,” he remarked. She opened her eyes.
Her vision came into focus and she found him right in front of her. When she opened her mouth, a strangled whine escaped. Byakuya moved back, but his face conveyed no surprise or signs of being startled at the weird noise.
“I suppose we should replenish our energy,” he said, turning away.
Touko took a few moments to return to reality. The pink aura around them had dissipated, plonking them back in the garden where chickens clucked nearby and she caught a whiff of fertiliser mixed in with the floral blend. Not exactly romantic.
“Well, what did you make?” he said impatiently.
“Ah! Right! Sorry!” She flipped the basket lid open and extracted the blanket. Once she laid it out, she unpacked the rest of the picnic.
Initially, Byakuya remained standing up, but when she had got most of it out, he knelt down on the edge of the basket, his eyes trained on something.
“Is that winnimere cheese?” he asked, pointing at a pie-shaped block of cheese. A ring of brown crust covered the cylinder’s curving side and an off-white surface rested on top, with grooves in it.
“Yes!” Touko said as she was about to take out a plastic tub containing a salad, consisting of different greens with shreds of red and orange. Her eyes sought his pair. “Do you like it?”
Byakuya picked up a knife. Every second that he didn’t answer dragged on. “It’s no Caciocavallo Podolico, but it will do.”
He cut a slice, revealing the yellower insides of the cheese to be creamier than let on. While he spread it over a cracker, one of the chickens approached their blanket, bobbing its head. Touko gritted her teeth.
“N-No, Byakuya Junior, this isn’t for you!” she hissed, shooing at it with both hands. It stopped where it was and looked around, like it didn’t know where the voice had come from.
Byakuya stared at Touko.
“Did you just say Byakuya Junior?” he asked. She turned her eyes to him and wiggled.
“Y-Yes... I named him myself,” she said, simpering. “Do you like it?”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“A chicken!” Byakuya scoffed. “How would you like it if I named one ‘Touko Junior’?”
“T-T-!” Touko melted. Not physically, obviously, but her body went rather limp.
Byakuya scowled and presented her with a napkin so she could wipe the drool beading on her lips, which after a short delay, when she didn’t respond, he fitted into her hand instead.
He clicked his tongue. “Look at you. You’re far too scrawny... Don’t you know how to eat? Or do I have to feed you myself?”
At that moment, her brain short-circuited, and after a spark of life pulsed on her face, she tried to speak only for garbled nonsense to come out.
Ever since she had been young, even when she had been pressured by society to present and identify as a boy, she had imagined a scene like this. A picnic lunch with her true love. And now it was happening. Byakuya huffed, his features tinged with annoyance.
“I’m only doing this so we can get back to work sooner,” he said as he brought the cracker to her lips. “And... because you did do a good job with the chickens, so I suppose I owe you. But, tell anyone about this and I will...”
Byakuya trailed off. His lips drew together petulantly and he tried feeding her. Fortunately, though rendered incapable of speech, her mouth at least functioned enough to eat, even if she wheezed a bit and he sometimes had to massage her cheeks to help her chew. She didn’t take her eyes off him as she ate, much to his displeasure.
“Close your eyes,” he said. “You’re looking at me in a funny way.”
“S-Sorry!” she squeaked, and she obliged. She couldn’t see him anymore, but now as she felt the food push against her lips, she could imagine the food being something else. Like his lips...
“Actually, keep them open,” he said, for she had been betrayed by her face. “And don’t say anything. I want some peace and quiet for the time being.”
They ate the rest of the picnic in mostly silence. Neither talked. It could almost be called a date. An awkward one, but one all-the-same, and afterwards, Byakuya stood up and clapped his hands.
“It’s time to resume our training,” he said. When Touko didn’t reply, he flushed redder and said louder, “Today, Fukawa.”
The sound of her name brought her out of her trance and she rose, pressing a hand gently against her cheek.
“Y-Yes, Byakuya-sama,” she said with a happy sigh.
While the pair trained the chickens to jump through a non-burning hoop, Aoi and Yasuhiro fumbled with boxes of toxic chemicals, and elsewhere in the school, Makoto and Kyouko fanned Monobear as it lay motionless on a sunbed, with cucumbers over its eyes.
As they pampered Monobear, it did not stir, and this was because Monobear’s mind was somewhere else entirely. Literally.
Hidden in the school, in a small control room, was a cockpit like something out of a science fiction movie, full of monitors and buttons all flashing, and the blue-green tinted room came fitted with a throne. Normally, when Monobear was active, someone would be sitting there. That person would be pressing buttons. Cackling into a microphone. Tugging on levers. However, right now, no one occupied the room.
No one was stowed away in there, but someone did stand in the adjoining room - the data-processing room, where an entire wall housed monitors showing different pockets of the school. A lone figure was in the centre of the room, within its blinking, glowing walls.
One of the many monitors on the wall broadcasted the garden, where Touko and Byakuya coaxed chickens through a hoop. They were a curious couple. Very curious. During the killing game, Touko had latched onto Byakuya. Sure, the guy was intelligent and good-looking, if someone was into that sort of thing, but he also had a repugnant personality, though admittedly he had been easing up lately. It was a good thing that Mukuro Ikusaba had died because she had bet Byakuya would still be alive at this point.
Ah well, her winnings could go to her twin instead.
The figure watched Touko and Byakuya. After Byakuya revealed Touko’s secret to everyone, if someone thought Touko would go off him, that he would have become like one of the many people in her life who betrayed her, their assumption would have been understandable. It would be wrong, but it would be understandable.
Instead, Touko’s feelings intensified.
Lots of reasons could be used to explain Touko’s feelings for Byakuya. Masochism, because he had a sharp tongue and little restraint and some people got off on that. Relief and gratitude, because now she didn’t have to hide that part of herself from everyone. Greed, because he was a rich, powerful, handsome man.
Of course, the figure knew better than that.
A small hum slipped out of the figure’s raspberry pink lips.
Ah, and it wasn’t just Touko’s feelings. Byakuya’s too.
Only someone who had known him for two years, or someone whose Super High School Level involved a prowess in analysing, would know the scope of it all. Or someone with both. On the surface, there were his cruel remarks, his snarls and leers at others, but those had lessened after the last trial humbled him. Made him question his outlook on life.
Even before that point, anyone else could easily have missed how Byakuya always seemed to be assured of Touko’s safety before he claimed to desire her demise, or how he often let her be near him for a while before sending her away. When he wanted her gone, he most certainly made it known every time, like with everyone else, so that was interesting. Or when he accompanied her to the incinerator after she stood up to him when he wanted her to burn her birthday present for him, and even then, in the end, he had kept it.
Even if he hadn’t, the walk would have been a treat enough for her. A reward. A reward for standing up to him.
Then there were other things, things only people with access to the footage from the surveillance cameras would know, like their conversation when she revealed her alter, or when they met in secret after the second trial, or what happened the night before Byakuya and Syo turned up to breakfast together and he defensively told them they weren’t together.
After that, Touko started calling him ‘Byakuya-sama’.
On top of that, there were things that only the figure knew. Things not even Byakuya and Touko knew, despite it involving them. Things like interactions in the library that gradually grew longer. Lessons where he sat in front of her and she daydreamed, drilling holes into the back of his head. Things like the first time she revealed Syo’s existence, and Byakuya’s promise that lasted until some time after they became locked in the school, when he made the same promise again. Or like how he told her about the conglomerate, how she told him about what led her to write, or about books or their classmates or the world around them and more. Much more.
Then there were the small smiles. Lingering glances. Accidental hand brushes. Skipped heartbeats. And then a meeting in Touko’s dorm room, after the Togami Conglomerate fell, after they chose to barricade themselves in here, where they held hands and pressed close and breathed as one.
All forgotten. Wiped away.
Of all the people for Touko to choose, it was Byakuya, someone who before they lost their memories, she had chosen. And she had chosen him again.
Along with Kyouko’s nosing around the school, perhaps it was time to move the game forward.
For the next week, the figure continued with their observations. It was nice having Kyouko forced to stay put rather than have her flit in and out of out-of-bounds areas lacking cameras. It was funny seeing Yasuhiro and Aoi struggle and grow frustrated with the stock check. And it was interesting watching Touko and Byakuya train the chickens.
Interesting, but also useful.
Every night, the lights in the garden switched off to make it appear like it was night time. And so, one night, it was dark when the door to the coop opened. A quiet set of cheeps woke up one of the chickens. It poked its head out curiously.
A distance away, a figure in a mask cooed at it, holding out mealworms.
As the chicken approached, it didn’t see the knife the figure held behind their back.
alright, we have one more thing in the queue BUT there are going to be more gifts! some people needed a bit more time to finish them so if you see that we’re not posting for a few days and you haven’t received your gift yet, that’s why. you haven’t been forgotten.
rest assured, you will get your gift and it will definitely be worth the wait. <3
This is for @mastermind-marius! I hope you like it ^^ The prompt I went with was “first date”. You can imagine this takes place either pre-despair, when they are still in school, or post dr3.
@chimeras-and-company
Hi there! I’m your gifter!!
I wrote an one-shot for you, it’s with the prompt of a deadly raid and byakuya resulting more injured than Touko!
It’s angsty at first, but get better at the end :D I hope you like it and had fun in the holidays ^^
umm idk what else to say honestly, i put a little of vent in there to make it more… powerful(?) i hope you enjoy itt
here we go!
******
“H-how did we end up like this?”
The ‘hospital’ of the Future Foundation was silent. Too silent, its patients being all quiet, even when the floor was filled with injured people and blood.
“Y-you said… you were a-alright…”
All the deaths, the despair, made just by an annoying child… Nobody would’ve thought that Monaca still had that many robots in her control, edifices filled with black and white bears while the Future Foundation agents were scarce.
“I… y-you are great, Master, but you’re n-not immortal…”
Byakuya was one of the injured. He wasn’t bleeding anymore, yet he was close to death. Thanks to bruises and scratches, that were darker and deeper getting closer to his head.
“M-maybe you thought that y-you were fine”, Touko whispered, looking at her Master, her friend, with tears falling over the white blankets that covered his chest. “A-and… you h-had covered your neck. Why d-did you cover your neck, M-Master? If Hagakure w-wasn’t with you when you p-passed out, you would’ve been d-dead. Dead!”
Touko covered her mouth when she realized she was shouting, when the doctors and nurses looked at her with pity. Nobody got angry at her; all of them knew very well that the ex-heir would probably never wake up. And she knew it. The writer knew that Byakuya could die in his coma, she was preparing herself to hear the news, but it was just the night after he passed out and the pain was raw, too recent, too fictional to be true. Nothing could be done, yet she cried and cried, whispering to him as if they were talking, as if he wasn’t dying. It made things less painful, allowing herself to act like he was alright and awake and didn’t got a brain aneurysm because of a stupid robot-
“Touko, it’s late”, Komaru exclaimed at her side, placing a hand in her friend’s shoulder. “We have to go back. Makoto is waiting for us.”
The doctors weren’t the only ones that pitied Touko. Komaru’s voice was sweet, soft: a careful whisper. She was thinking about her words, swiftly choosing them to try and comfort the writer. But she knew, she noticed it the same moment that Komaru opened her mouth. She didn’t like it at all, she didn’t need pity.
Who she needed was asleep in front of her, and wasn’t going to wake up in a long, long time.
‘If he ever does’, the voice of reason hissed in her head, with a thought that Touko was trying to hide. To deny the obvious fact; she had to, or despair would consume her soul.
~
Her ex-classmates were the only ones that didn’t pity her(at all). Even if everyone knew about her crush on Byakuya, they were the only ones that didn’t look at her like she was a lost puppy. They were close to her Master too, and suffered his soon-to-be loss as she did. Maybe in a smaller proportion, but most people only saw him as a cold, skilled man. Not many people saw his honesty, his intelligence, or his-
“Fufu, are you alright? You didn’t answer my question”. Hiroko snapped Touko back to the present, outside of her thoughts, and the girl kept quiet. When the writer didn’t say anything, she simply sighed. “I asked if you feel pain somewhere. You had pretty deep cuts and burns, it’s impossible to have recovered in just three days”, the woman explained, looking at Touko with calmness.
“I-I’m fine”, Touko replied, chewing one of her nails. Hiroko’s gaze was still on her, one eye closed with suspicion, in complete silence. “… w-well, my back started to ache a-again. B-but…”
“I won’t make fun of you, Fufu. The injuries can get infected if untreated, they will hurt more and more”, Hiroko commented, guiding her to a patient bed. The writer frowned, doubtful, but she knew she could trust her. She didn’t know why she was being so defensive against her, against everyone.
Touko’s skin was filled with cloth, used as a quick bandage, and dust, dry blood decorating her torso. She wasn’t sure when she would be safe enough to bathe (Komaru would’ve insisted, if she wasn’t the one patching her when they came back from the raid). Her stun-gun failed in the worst moment, and she was forced to fight with her own weak arms and hands. A robot exploded behind her, and she was lucky to not obtain third-degree burns…
“Geez, this looks bad. And Koko used the wrong bandage…”, Hiroko whispered, concentrating in her task. She moved stuff from inside a first aid kit, and gently placed a gloved hand in the brunette’s back. “This will hurt”, she warned with a soft tone.
Cloth was almost glued to the burns, to the borders of the skin, and Touko couldn’t remember something as painful as removing sticky bandages from that injury. She silently thanked Hiroko for the warning, cursing under her breath without tears falling under her chin. And she made a mental note about checking the type of bandages she was going to use to an injury, before actually using it.
~
After her burn was properly healed, Touko was allowed to visit her Master again. An entire week away from him, nothing compared to the time she spent in Towa City with Komaru. But in that occasion, she didn’t fear for his life. Now, the writer sat at his side holding his warm hand, eyes closed and head dropping thanks to tiredness. Kyoko was with them too, observing in silence.
She has been quiet since the raid, answering with monosyllabic words at every question. Her serious face fooled most people, but you could tell that she was sad just by looking at her eyes. The writer used that strategy with her Master too. He appeared to be cold, but he wasn’t. Deep enough, the Killing game survivors had a place in his heart… Touko’s being the most important for him, showing it with his caring words and the mails they shared. Or, that’s what she wanted to believe.
Her Master’s hand felt warm, and his fingers moved. She opened her eyes, with a grin now decorating her face. Kyoko showed a tiny smile, and a nurse entered the room. They had to leave, thanks to some privacy policies that no one was in the mood to break. When both girls were in the hospital hallway, Touko started to talk with excitement, clasping her hands over her chest.
“H-he moved”, she quickly explained to her friend, who just stared at her. “H-he’s going to wake up!”
“Probably”, Kyoko replied, the longest word she pronounced in a week.
“He’ll w-wake up”, the writer whispered to herself, holding to that hope that shined brightly under her skin.
It darkened later that day, when the nurse told them that Byakuya almost died again. That he was safe now, but he couldn’t breathe alone anymore and had to use an oxygen mask.
~
Touko couldn’t dodge the fact that the raid wasn’t successful. That any healthy agent had to keep fighting, and only ten members of each branch could stay in the base. She was an intern, and they took advantage of that, sending her to finish the raids alongside Komaru and countless of unknown people. At least her back didn’t hurt anymore…
Now, her heart was in her throat, beating quickly as she gasped for air. Syo had been in control for… how many hours? Had she switched with her stun-gun, or passed out? Touko couldn’t tell. The sky was always red, and the sun didn’t light the cities anymore. Having to use a watch to know the time instead of just looking up was something awful, something that the girl still had to start doing.
She was alone in the unknown, pink staining her body. As if she was injured, even if she felt no pain. Had the genocider killed someone else? Her Master would be so disappointed of her…
“Touko! You’re awake!”, a distant voice exclaimed, as if its owner was behind a window. When the writer scanned the room, she found Komaru smiling. Relaxed, as if she had something heavy in her shoulders and could finally drop it to the ground.
“K-Komaru…?”. Touko could feel the soreness in her throat, the pain, the screams that her alter should’ve done to let their body in this state. “W-what happened?”
Her senses were waking up with her, and her alter’s feelings were still hidden in her chest. Disgust, hate, fear… Syo probably discovered what happened to her Master. But why did she felt the need to kill, after almost two years?
“We won”, Komaru whispered, looking at someone at her side. “Syo helped us in the raid, but…”
The disgust faded from her mind, and was quickly replaced with dizziness. Blood was everywhere; in the ground, her clothes, her hands… Her mouth felt weird, dry, and her stomach growled.
“She killed Tengan. And, uh, tried to starve herself when… we tried giving her medicine”. The mysterious person accompanying her friend let themselves be seen; a girl with pale grey hair, with a mask hiding her mouth. “Munakata thinks that she has to go, since we finally defeated Monaca.”
“W-well… what are you waiting f-for? I’m here n-now, give me the medicine”, Touko hissed, coming close to the dense window that separated the three girls.
“… don’t you want to know why Syo killed our leader?”. The stranger- Kimura, was it?- seemed dubious. She wasn’t staring at Touko, neither was Komaru.
“I d-don’t care”, the brunette admitted, crossing her arms over her chest. Kimura sighed, giving a small nod, and a hidden door was opened close to the window.
Touko entered to the other room, noticing clean clothes and curry over a table and sat there, eating the food with excitement. She wasn’t interrupted. When she finished her (long-desired?) meal, Komaru placed a hand on her shoulder, and talked.
“Tengan said that keeping Togami alive was a waste of resources”, her friend explained, dodging her gaze. “He gave the orders in front of Syo, after the raid was won.”
“… He d-deserved it”, Touko muttered with a frown, and Kimura gave her a purple pill. She inspected it; it was big, almost rectangular, and she didn’t know if she could just take it or not.
After some seconds, she remembered Kimura’s talent: (Former) Ultimate Pharmacist. The girl made remedies and vitamins, discovering properties of already known substances that made her win her title. She was safe… probably.
“If you don’t swallow it, Munakata won’t let you see Togami”, Kimura admitted, looking at her eyes. She was calm, her voice steady, and Touko was convinced mostly by her statement. Kimura later explained that she would’ve to take the medicine every day, but it wasn’t a problem for her.
~
The world became a quieter place in just two years. No more raids, no more robots… the sky became blue again, and flowers bloomed everywhere you could look. There wasn’t as many people as before, and the streets felt… empty. Even if Touko detested crowds, it was weird that they simply disappeared from existence, abandoning entire cities in mere days.
'That’s the only good thing of all of this’, the writer thought in her seat, playing with her hair while the bus was in a stop.
She was in her way to the hospital. Byakuya was still asleep, barely reacting to anyone’s presence. The nurses said that he should be waking up soon, as the pollution was almost gone and it was healthy to breathe again. That he was alright.
And so, Touko visited her friend every week. Komaru or the other survivors sometimes went with her, but not this time. She had to say goodbye to him.
Writing wasn’t a valuable skill in a post-apocalyptic world. Towa City was the less… affected by The Tragedy, and they wanted to post her new writings. Being in the new Kibougamine school wasn’t bad, but working of something she loved was better. Plus, they would pay well.
The decision was already made. Touko wasn’t going to change her mind; the papers had been filled, even if she wasn’t going to go until New Year had passed.
That’s what she had planned to say to him, her sleeping beauty.
He was completely still, his golden mane reaching his ribs now; Aloysius said that Byakuya could like it that way, that he did in the past, and didn’t let anyone cut his hair.
Touko grabbed his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin as a contrast to the coldness of the start of Winter. She smiled softly, closing her eyes to rest at his side.
“It’s a cold d-day, isn’t it?”, the girl whispered, saving her glasses inside a pocket in her shirt. “Not cold enough for s-snow, but it’s still annoying.”
As expected, she got no response. Byakuya didn’t move this time, didn’t grab her hand like he did in the past. Touko sighed, gently brushing his hair with her fingers.
“I won’t be here after D-December, Byakuya”, she added, looking at the floor under her feet. “Komaru wants to come w-with me, I won’t be alone. Towa City is the o-only place that needs a writer right now…”
After another sigh, the girl left a gentle kiss on his wrist. She didn’t cry, not this time. Practicing this hurt, but now… a weight was gone, something that made her shoulders ache but not anymore. She felt free, safe, for the first time in years.
“S-so… search me if you wake up. I will wait”, Touko said, smiling again. She finally looked at his calm face, noticing a soft movement in his eyelids.
A reflex, probably; he didn’t open his eyes the last time he did that, he wasn’t going to do it now. With this in mind, she turned to leave the room, not looking back. She wouldn’t go if she saw his face one more time, stuck at his side until something happened.
Something, anything… for better or worse.
“Miss Fukawa, where are you going?”, Aloysius (her friend’s butler, who was allowed to stay with Byakuya as he was closer with him than anyone else) wondered, having been waiting outside the room. In the Future Foundation there could be more than one visitor at a time, but not in a regular hospital.
“I can’t w-wait anymore… He’ll probably won’t w-wake up, Aloysius, and I have a n-new job”, Touko answered, playing with her only braid. “I have to prepare e-everything for New Year…”
“Are you sure about that?”. The man offered her a biscuit from a paper bag, sitting in one of the chairs of the hallways. Chatter came from other rooms, making the girl feel calmer. “Won’t you feel lonely?”
Touko knew what he tried to do. She sat at his side anyways, grabbing the food he offered with a sigh. Aoi wasn’t the only one trying to convince her to stay, he was doing that too and the writer didn’t know why.
“K-Komaru will come with me”, she explained, taking a bit from the biscuit. It tasted good, with chocolate chips and a soft vanilla flavor. “I won’t be alone.”
“… Excuse me for interrogating you, Miss Fukawa. It is just… you and I are the only regular visitors that my young Master has”, Aloysius admitted, giving the girl a polite smile. “I know that he can seem harsh, or cold; a lack of visitors confirms that. So I gained curiosity about you.”
“Are we r-really the only ones that come here?”. Touko played with her fingers, a frown appearing in her face. The chatter from the other rooms had reduced to mere whispers and the occasional groans, and nurses took care of each patient that was in there. “I’ll h-have a talk with my classmates before I go away…”
“No, they do come. I was trying to say that we are the only ones that come every week, that make a space for him in our routines”, the man corrected, negating with his head. “Do not be angry at them, Miss Fukawa. It was my bad, as I had not expressed my thoughts as I should have.”
“O-oh… it’s alright, Aloysius”, the girl said, finishing her biscuit and smiling to him. “It was d-delicious, thank you.”
“My pleasure”, he answered, imitating her gesture. Someone moved behind them, and before they could say anything else, a nurse came out of a room(his), with wide eyes and sweat in her face. She recognized Touko, and stood in front of her as quick as possible, and the writer feared. Byakuya was dead, even if no alarm beeped from the monitors and machines that kept him healthy.
“You-”, the nurse interrupted herself, now noticing Aloysius. She sighed before continuing. “He wants to see you two.”
“He’s a-awake”, Touko exclaimed, her eyes barely holding tears that she forced herself to hide. “A-Aloysius, y-you were right, he w-woke up!”
Her companion just smiled, and the two were allowed to see her friend again, conscious after so long; Byakuya was laying in his bed, his pale blue gaze resting first in his butler, and then in Touko. She cleaned her tears, aware of how disgusting she looked with them, and Aloysius hugged him. He blinked, moving his arms at a slow pace to return the hug.
“What happened?”, were his first words in a while, said with a deep yet shaky tone, revealing the lack of use of his voice. Touko got closer to him, and the boy blinked again. “You said you had to go”, he remarked, squinting where she stood.
“Y-you w-woke up, and- and you r-remember… what I s-said”, the girl replied, making a grin to him even if he couldn’t see her well.
He smiled back and grabbed her hand, for the first time with both conscience and joy.
~
One good thing about living in a world that was recovering from despair, was the care that everyone gave to plants. Even in Winter, trees were strong and were in every corner.
The hospital had a small park, leaves from evergreens and snow mixed in its ground as the year was coming to an end. Nobody was out, coldness winning against the excitement of seeing the huge garden of the place.
Touko was a person that hated cold. She got sick thanks to it, and the feeling was horrible… but Byakuya had to exercise, recover mobility or something, and she just couldn’t say no to something so important regarding his health.
They were walking in silence, following a pebble road. Bare trunks were at each side of the path, looking a bit odd without their typical green tones.
“Have I been asleep for this long?”, Byakuya whispered to himself once they reached a bench, grabbing his friend’s arm to sit in a comfortable way. “It was April when we first raided Monaca.”
“Y-you were in a coma, Byakuya”, Touko gently reminded him, sitting at his side. “F-for… two years, almost three.”
“… It still is an unbelievable thing”, he admitted, unknotting his hair with his fingers. He didn’t want to cut it(and he honestly looked better with long hair, in Touko’s opinion). “The air is breathable. No acid falls from the sky when there is a storm… and all was solved so quickly.”
“Y-yeah, it’s weird at first”, the writer agreed, her head resting in Byakuya’s shoulder. He just stared at her, no complains leaving his mouth. “But it’s a-alright, we finally d-defeated Monaca, and everyone is working h-hard to not ruin the world again.”
“Defeat? What is this, a video game?”, he asked in an irritated tone, crossing his arms over his chest. “I doubt she was killed so easily, as she has been a pest like Enoshima was.”
“S-she did live in the space for two months.”
“See? A pest, adapted to live in any environment”, Byakuya finished, smirking as he relaxed again. Touko searched for his blue gaze, and was quickly drowned in the two puddles of his eyes. Byakuya separated her head from his shoulder as he stood up, looking at the ground instead of her face; he also stopped unknotting his hair.
His body was warm, warmer than what was expected in a snowy day, and Touko just wanted to hug him, to feel that sensation again…
“It is getting late. Let’s go back.”
He was dubious about something, yet the girl knew that he wouldn’t say a word about it. Too many worries, and he could get ill again…
“A-alright”, she replied, extending her hand to him. Byakuya hold it, and Touko could’ve swear she saw a reddish tone in his cheeks.
Touko smiled to herself and, damn, the work in Towa City wasn’t worthy of not being at his side. Writing was an escape from the rain, and her Sun had returned brighter than when the clouds covered it.
He was still processing everything, but a new softness was there, formed by the memories of tears and kisses in the hands, of whispers about casual things and books.
Both of them were happy how they were, in their own unique way, that they still had to decipher themselves.
