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zenonaa · 5 months

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Fandom: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Dangan Ronpa Series Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya, Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Owada Mondo, Asahina Aoi/Ogami Sakura, Asahina Aoi/Celestia Ludenberg, Ikusaba Mukuro/Maizono Sayaka, Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto, a whole bunch of others but these are the main ones, basically multiship for almost everyone except togami hagakure and fukawa, and naegi i guess??? Characters: Everyone in DR1 except the real Junko Summary: Naegi unknowingly starts a place where his classmates can go to hook up with each other.

Comments: VERY LATE TOGAFUKA WEEK DAY 4 fic for kiss! This was meant to be a LOT shorter but I got carried away whoops. There is TogaFuka in here and it’s worth it I promise!!!

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

***

Makoto looks both ways as he walks down the corridor. With only twenty minutes left until the night-time announcement, most of the class have probably retired to their rooms by now. The only person he can think of who might still be about is Byakuya, but he would be in the library, not loitering in the halls, so Makoto doubts they will bump into each other.

As he’s unlikely to see anyone until morning, he shouldn’t be on edge. His stomach shouldn’t be flipping at every shadow, and he shouldn’t be digging crescents into his palms whenever something creaks. Yes, Monobear has trapped them in the school, pitting them against each other in a killing game, but nobody has tried murdering anyone. There have been quarrels, sure, and a few even verged toward fistfights, but no one has crossed the line. Yet.

He plans to grab himself a snack then head straight back to his room, no stops, no detours. Just in case. However, as Makoto approaches the cafeteria door, he hears people talking on the other side. With each step, the voices grow louder, sharper, angrier. His pace quickens and he shoves open the door.

In the middle of the cafeteria are Kiyotaka and Mondo.

“You have absolutely no self-discipline!” Kiyotaka yells, pointing at Mondo. “Instead of running around with your biker gang, you should be working to better yourself. Study! Do community service! Work on a skill.”

“B-Bastard,” Mondo grits out. He cracks his knuckles. “You don’t know how much self-discipline I’m using right now to not punch your goddamn face. I’ve got far more than you could dream of having. Though that ain’t saying much. You’re the guy who whenever he sees a speck of dust on his uniform, he goes cryin’ and hollerin’ to the laundromat.”

Kiyotaka recoils, wide-eyed. “You...!”

Mondo pulls back his fist. Makoto’s stomach lurches.

“Guys, please calm down!” he shouts, running over.

“Don’t listen to him,” says Monobear, sitting on a chair at one of the cafeteria’s smaller tables. It reaches its paw into a bag of popcorn. Because its mouth is for aesthetic purposes, when Monobear brings a handful of food up to its face, the pieces of popcorn slide down past its chin and spill around its body.

Makoto looks between the other two, frowning. “If you disagree with each other, fighting isn’t going to prove whether you’re right or wrong.”

“But he’s pissing me off, acting all high and mighty,” says Mondo.

“Well, let’s resolve that issue first. Why don’t you both go relax in the sauna?” suggests Makoto. “Then once you’re both calmer, you can...”

“A great idea!” says Kiyotaka. “This will be a true test of self-discipline. Whoever endures the sauna for longer is the Super High School Level Self-Discipliner.”

That is not what Makoto had in mind.

“Self-discipliner? That sounds kinda dirty,” says Monobear.

A smirk curls Mondo’s lips. He grinds his knuckles into his other hand’s palm. “You’re on, Caterpillar-brows. Get ready to lose.”

“That’s not...” Makoto starts, but the two barrel out of the cafeteria before he can finish.

Though he came here to get a snack, as the person who brought up the sauna, Makoto feels obligated to go after them. He should also make sure they don’t start beating each other up. How he will manage that, what with being a stick insect compared to them, he doesn’t know. Maybe he can convince them using words. Anyway, he can’t leave them to their own devices with a clear conscience.

When he leaves the cafeteria, they’re nowhere in sight. Thankfully, he knows exactly where to find them. Makoto sprints over to the public baths as best he can, gasping for air as he arrives at the locker room. He staggers into the bathing area, where Kiyotaka has already stripped down and wears only a towel.

“Enough joking around,” Kiyotaka tells Mondo. “Take off your clothes.”

“I told ya, I don’t need to.” Mondo hasn’t even removed his black overcoat. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, giving you a handicap despite all that shit you said about me.”

Makoto relaxes, but only slightly. They’re not fighting. For now, at least.

“Ah, Naegi-kun!” Kiyotaka turns to him. “We were waiting for you.”

“You were?” says Makoto.

“Yes. It’s only fitting that the person who came up with the idea acts as the referee.”

“But I...”

Mondo and Kiyotaka charge into the sauna. Makoto pads up to the door, which slammed shut behind them. Through the panel, he can see them sitting side-by-side, continuing to bicker.

“Hey, Ishimaru. You should call it quits. You’re sweating so much, people all across the school are gonna slip on your sweat. You don’t wanna cause a safety hazard, do you?”

“This... isn’t sweat... my skin is crying tears of determination!”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Makoto bites his lip. All that shouting can only be making them feel even hotter. He expects them to be done within five minutes, but they’re still arguing in there an hour later when Monobear gives the ten o’clock night time announcement.

“Hey, it’s night-time now,” Makoto pipes up. “Maybe we should continue this another time.”

“If you’re tired, you can go back to your room,” Mondo says. “We’ll take it from here. Tomorrow morning, bring a bucket and a mop because Ishimaru’s gonna be a puddle.”

“There is no need, for I am going to mop the floor with Oowada-kun. His pompadour will be perfect for the task!” Kiyotaka chimes in.

“Go on and scram, Naegi. This is gonna get real intense.”

Makoto hesitates, but the thought of lying in bed makes his eyelids grow heavier. Maybe it’s all the hot water and steam, but he feels like if he stays any longer, he might drift off to sleep. And if that were to happen, he would be breaking the rules set by Monobear. No sleeping outside of the dorm rooms.

Against his better judgement, he leaves.

***

Part of Makoto expects to not be awoken by Monobear’s morning announcement, but a body discovery one. The first thing he does after leaving his room is rush over to the sauna, only to find it empty. He sprints to the cafeteria, where he finds Mondo and Kiyotaka. But they don’t have their hands around each other’s throats. No, they have their arms around each other’s shoulders.

“... and then Chuck brought the second slipper to Kyoudai. Isn’t that sweet?” says Kiyotaka, beaming from ear to ear. “Ah, Kyoudai tells the story much better than I do.”

“No, no. Kyoudai, you nailed it,” Mondo replies in equally high spirits.

The rest of the class stare. Makoto joins in with them. Last he saw, those two were insulting each other and seemed ready to fight. Now they’re pressing close, exchanging compliments and laughing together. He had hoped the sauna might help calm them down, but as optimistic as he is, he hadn’t expected them to become so chummy.

“Are you both okay?” asks Makoto.

“They’ve been like this since they got here,” says Aoi. “It’s so... weird.”

“We are completely fine. What you are witnessing is a result of our trip to the sauna, where we showed each other our strength,” explains Kiyotaka. “Our souls waged and came together, as one. All because of you, Naegi-kun. Many thanks! At least sixteen of them!”

A few of the others look over at Makoto with raised eyebrows.

“So who won the contest?” he asks.

“That ain’t important!” Mondo snaps, suddenly glaring. “What matters is that we exposed ourselves to each other, as men.”

“Relax, Kyoudai. You will give yourself wrinkles.” Kiyotaka pats his cheek. “Don’t forget that your skin is precious.”

Mondo sighs and leans into his touch. The tension in his shoulders fades away. “You’re right, Kyoudai. Thanks for reminding me.”

While Makoto eats, Kiyotaka and Mondo continue to chatter, showering the other with praise between mouthfuls. When a grain of rice sticks to Mondo’s cheek, Kiyotaka delicately brushes it away and they smile at each other. The change in their dynamic appears sudden, but they seem happy. And Makoto thinks them getting along better can only be a good thing.

***

After breakfast, Makoto stops by the school shop. Nothing in there usually interests him. Not the antique dolls, not the sand timers, and not vases that he would expect to find in his grandmother’s house. Most of the time, he ends up using the vending machine, winning gifts that he can give to his friends. However, according to Chihiro, there is some new stock, so he’s curious to see if there is finally anything he wants for himself. If not, he can always get something for someone else.

When he walks in, he immediately spots Celes and Aoi.

“You can’t be human,” says Aoi in disbelief. Opposite her, Celes has a smile painted onto her face.

“I assure you that I am. Do you wish to feel my pulse to confirm?”

“Stop joking around.” A knot of tension divides Aoi’s brow. “You know what I mean.”

“What’s up?” asks Makoto. He swears the air chills as he draws nearer.

“Celes-chan was just saying how dull it is that no one has died,” Aoi says before throwing out her arms. “That’s messed up, ‘right?”

“A murder would shake things up though, would it not?” Celes places a hand to her mouth. “Admit it. I’m not wrong. It’s inevitable some of us will start killing each other, and you would be wise to accept that.”

“See! That’s horrible to say!”

Aoi trembles, which Celes regards with amusement. Makoto’s eyes dart between them. Creating rifts is what Monobear wants. Unattended to, these rifts could get bigger, and deeper, and then... no. He has to end their quarrel before it can rip any further, though that will be difficult if Aoi keeps getting more worked up, or if Celes doesn’t take the situation seriously. They need to sit together, with no distractions, and talk.

A lightbulb switches on in Makoto’s brain.

“I know how to settle this,” he says. “Come with me.”

They glance at each other but don’t object, following him out. He leads them to the locker room connected to the baths. While he stands back, they look around, confused.

“Go into the sauna together for a bit. Trust me,” he says. “And don’t come out until you’ve both reconciled.”.

“Um... sure?” says Aoi.

“Why not? I don’t have any other plans,” replies Celes. “Ah, but Naegi-kun, if you would be so kind as to give us some privacy. Three is a crowd, as they say.”

“Yeah, it’d be creepy having a guy hanging around us the whole time,” adds Aoi, scratching her cheek.

“O-Of course!” Heat gushes across Makoto’s face and he waves his hands, backing away. “I’ll see you later. When you’re done!”

He cannot leave the locker room fast enough.

His ears are still burning when he arrives at his dorm room. Just before he opens the door, he freezes, remembering he had planned to check out the new stock in the school shop. In all the commotion, he had completely forgotten to do so.

“Upupupu. Did you get blue-balled back there?”

Makoto yelps and spins around. Monobear stares up at him with its paws behind its back.

Once he’s over his surprise, he glares. “I’m helping them mend their relationship so you can’t try taking advantage of their misunderstandings.”

“If you say so,” says Monobear. Makoto turns away and enters his room without another word.

***

Truth be told, he isn’t totally sure that his idea will work again. At least, not as well as it did with Kiyotaka and Mondo. The next morning, he arrives at the cafeteria, where he sees Aoi and Celes drinking tea together and giggling. Sakura sits opposite them, quietly sipping from her cup.

“You are amazing, Celes-chan,” says Aoi. “I’m like a regular old oatmeal bar compared to you.”

“Don’t undersell yourself. You are equally delightful,” replies Celes, shaking her head.

Makoto relaxes and smiles. “I’m glad you’re getting along.”

“Ah, but of course.” Though Celes is speaking to Makoto, she continues to look fondly at Aoi. “I cannot understate how much we enjoyed our stay in the sauna. In a short time, we got to know each other a lot more intimately.”

“It was like I saw a whole other side of Celes-chan. We had such a good time. We’re even going to go for a swim together this afternoon,”Aoi says, wrapping her arms around Celes and nuzzling their cheeks together.

He tries to imagine Celes not wearing her loita-style dress and struggles, her body becoming a smudge of navy as he tries to fit her into a swimsuit.

“I’m relieved you made up. You were both quite heated when I last saw you,” he says.

“Yes, things did get quite hot, didn’t they?” muses Celes, trying to keep the cup cradled in her hands steady as Aoi hugs her tighter. “But don’t concern yourself with the matter any further. Sometimes, women just need to lay themselves bare to each other.”

***

Later that day, Makoto remembers to visit the school shop, but the new stock doesn’t appeal to him. If he wanted dumbbells, he would borrow one from the gymnasium, and the massage gun looks like something he would have to loudly clarify what it was whenever someone saw him with it. Most of the new items are pretty expensive too. His trip isn’t a complete loss though, as he inserts a coin into the vending machine and ends up with a book about Brazilian jiu-jitsu. While he doubts he would get much use out of it, he reckons Sakura would enjoy it.

Sakura didn’t explicitly state she would be accompanying Aoi and Celes to the swimming pool, but she and Aoi usually attend the pool together. On his way there, he grabs his swim stuff from his room. He may as well join them. It was only after his imprisonment at Hope’s Peak that he began fully appreciating the benefits of swimming. Not only is it a great way to exercise, but whenever he is in the pool, he can almost pretend he isn’t trapped, able to freely glide in all directions underwater. Monobear can’t take that from him.

Makoto has just reached the bottom of the stairs to the second floor when someone shouts, “Get away from me!”

He freezes, recognising the voice. His trainers thud against the stairs as he bolts toward where the exclamation seems to have come from. As he expects, he finds Junko Enoshima standing in the corridor. If she clenched her jaw any harder, he wouldn’t have been surprised if her teeth shattered under the pressure.

“Enoshima-san?” Makoto follows her gaze. His head jerks back. “... Maizono-san?”

With how vexed Junko had sounded, Sayaka is one of the last people he would guess to be here too. Sayaka’s lips have almost been sucked entirely into her mouth with how much she’s pursing them. Her hands are raised, palms open and facing toward Junko. Though her expression isn’t contorted in anger like Junko’s, her stare stabs fear into Makoto.

And he isn’t even the person she’s looking at.

“What’s going on?” Makoto asks.

“I’ll tell you what.” Junko flings up a hand. Her gaze remains rooted to Sayaka. “I was just minding my own business when Maizono here decided to accost me.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I wished to help,” says Sayaka, so calmly that a shiver trickles down Makoto’s back. She reminds him of a pool with a thin layer of ice on top. Smooth, tranquil, but push down and it will fracture and the icy water will swallow its victim whole.

“Insult me, more like,” scoffs Junko. “I was on my way out of the toilets when she came out of nowhere and offered to do my makeup. Like hello? I’m a goddamn model. It’d be like asking Hagakure to redline Yamada’s art.”

“I initially followed you because you seemed agitated and I was concerned. You even went into the boys restroom by mistake...”

Makoto blinks. “Enoshima-san did what?”

“Huh? Why’d you have to blab that?” Junko cringes. “Are you trying to make me look dumb in front of Naegi?”

“No!” Sayaka places her hands over her heart. “I was worried about you. You were in there for a while. Then when you came out, your mascara was smudged and your lipstick application was misshapen. I thought you had been practising your makeup, and I wanted to teach you. Being a model, you probably have people do your makeup for you.”

Junko squares her shoulders. The look on her face makes Makoto want to flee as fast as he can, but his body won’t budge. His legs would probably buckle underneath him anyway. She has the aura of a cold-hearted super soldier.

“I don’t need your help.” Junko points at Sayaka, sneering. “Why don’t you run along and continue teaching girls to have body dysmorphia? Or why not tell them how to fool themselves into thinking a cute girl on stage would ever care about them?”

Sayaka’s face cracks. Emotion floods out from behind her porcelain skin, into her scrunched brow, into her twisted mouth, into her scream.

“SHUT UP!”

They lunge toward each other at the same time.

“Stop!” Makoto cries out. He doesn’t know if they heard him, but they stop close enough that if they were to breathe, they’d be sharing the same air. Their hands stay by their sides, not touching the other. Not yet. But their fingers are curled tight enough to draw blood. To strangle.

With each second that grinds past, Makoto’s heart thrashes in his chest. Should one of them so much as cough, that’d be enough to trigger the other. The situation needs to be de-escalated. Makoto needs to de-escalate it.

“I know how to resolve this.” He thinks he does. Right now, he’s two for two. “Come with me.”

It’s not an order. It’s a plea. They ignore him.

“At least try, for me,” he says, quieter, and they finally turn to him.

“... Okay,” says Sayaka, her eyes thawing.

Junko twirls a lock of her hair around her finger. “I can’t stand this plastic doll, but since you asked nicely, I’ll play along.”

***

The next day, Makoto almost trips over in his haste to get to the cafeteria. Fortunately, he manages to recover from his stagger and presses on, breathing loudly. He hasn’t seen Sayaka and Junko since he left them at the locker room. Both of them had promised they wouldn’t do anything stupid after he left, yet his insides still squirmed most of the night, as he tossed and turned in bed.

Neither come across as the sort of people to get violent. Sayaka isn’t a knife-wielding maniac, and Junko isn’t a heartless warrior. Then again, he hadn’t expected them to lash out at each other like they did. Perhaps he should have stayed. No, his presence could have stopped them from getting comfortable. And if he’s honest, he doesn’t think he would have been able to relax either, with Sayaka and Junko wearing only towels.

He schools his features as best he can and pushes down the mental images bubbling in his head. His face is still hot when he bursts into the cafeteria. The other students all turn toward him while his eyes whiz around like flies trapped in a jar, hunting for Sayaka or Junko.

“You were right, Enoshima-san.” Sayaka sits at the main table, painting varnish onto Junko’s nails. “Camo green does suit you.”

His shoulders slump in relief as a smile spreads across his face. Their session went better than he could have hoped for. They aren’t insulting each other, or butting heads. Instead, they’re sitting side by side, knees brushing together as Sayaka works on Junko’s nails.

“Woo, check us out, getting wild up in here.” Junko lifts her hand and swivels her wrist, admiring Sayaka’s handiwork. “This shade is gonna make a comeback, I can feel it. Thank you, Maizono-chan. I only gathered the confidence to try it on because of you.”

“Yes, it’s very debonair,” says Touko. Only she and Byakuya are seated away from the main table, though they’re not together. Their tables are next to each other.

Yasuhiro frowns. “Debonhuh? Is that a Pokémon?”

“It’s probably an insult. Fukawa-chan, why can’t you be nice for once?” Aoi glares in Touko’s direction. “You know what they say. Ugly thoughts make your face ugly.”

“S-So what if I’m ugly?” Touko’s shoulders hunch. “Why would I want to conform to your rose-tinted world? Ugliness is truth. Ugliness is reality. And if you can’t see the beauty in that... you really are a vapid airhead bimbo.”

“Hey!”

Aoi’s chair screeches back as she jolts to her feet. Crockery rattles on the table, prompting some of the other students’ hands to twitch to their plates and bowls instinctively. Even though Aoi doesn’t move from her spot, which is some distance away from Touko’s table, Touko positions her arms defensively over herself.

“Don’t hit me, don’t hit me,” Touko babbles. “Only Byakuya-sama can hit me.”

Byakuya lowers his cup from his mouth. “I would rather dip my hand in acid than lay a finger on you.”

“Fukawa-san, it’s okay.” Makoto’s words seem to have no effect, as she continues cowering and trembling. He pulls a face. “Maybe you ought to go to the sauna with Asahina-san.”

For someone as stand-offish as Touko, this would be the ultimate test on whether the sauna could settle all disputes. Some of the class aren’t the most sociable, but she is on a whole other tier along with Byakuya. Monobear wouldn’t stand a chance against them if they had a way of coaxing people like them to open up to the others.

Touko and Aoi stiffen, then look at each other.

“I... I would rather die!” Touko blurts. One moment she’s buried under her own arms, and in the next she is halfway across the cafeteria.

Before Makoto can think to say anything, she’s gone. Everyone stares at the door.

“Finally.” A smile tweaks the corners of Byakuya’s lips. “Peace and quiet.”

He sips his coffee. Meanwhile, Aoi huffs and puts her hands onto her hips.

“I’m not that bad.” She hooks a finger against her bottom lip. “Am I?”

As much as Makoto thinks a trip to the sauna would benefit Touko, he can’t force her to visit it. If he pushes too hard, he suspects she will scream that he is a pervert and refuse to come out of her room for several days. Some of the others probably wouldn’t complain if that happened, but he doesn’t have it in his heart to stress her more. They all need to get along. Makoto can try again with her another time.

On his way out of the cafeteria, a yawn rolls out of him. He doesn’t have any plans with anyone, so he decides to nap in his room for a few hours.

***

Instead of waking to silence courtesy of the soundproof walls surrounding him, Makoto is startled awake by his doorbell’s shrill ringing. It doesn’t relent, blaring nonstop. He throws himself out of bed and hurries to the door, his heart racing.

Upon opening it, he’s greeted by the sight of a severely distressed Yasuhiro.

“Naegi-chi!” Yasuhiro falls to his knees and claps his hands together over his head, grasping them together tightly.

Even though Yasuhiro is no longer jamming his finger against the button, Makoto’s ears continue to ring. “W-What is it?”

“You’ve gotta come quick. There’s a serious battle about to go down, and there’s a hostage involved. We need you to de-escalate and calm the scene with your good vibes!”

He grabs Makoto’s wrist and pulls him along, not giving Makoto the chance to respond. As they run through the school, Makoto barely manages to stay upright and not tumble over. His breaths huff too frequently for him to formulate a coherent sentence; however, it doesn’t stop his mind from whirling.

A serious battle. A hostage.

Something of this seriousness has to involve Monobear, but when Yasuhiro finally slams open the door to the art room, it’s nowhere to be seen. Upheaved desks and chairs litter the floor, but Makoto’s eyes are quickly drawn higher. Paint pots soar through the air, diving down to crash against a particular desk. On impact, colour explodes out of the pots, splattering everywhere like fireworks. They’re as loud too. He looks at the other side of the room and spots Leon, whose arms are windmilling as he hurls pots with Super High School Level precision.

“N-Naegi Makoto-dono!” Hifumi squawks from behind the paint-covered desk, where he is taking shelter from Leon’s onslaught. “Please talk sense into that lunatic.”

Makoto turns to Leon. “Kuwata-kun, stop!”

Leon pauses and glares. “Stay out of this! You’re not involved.”

“Me and Kuwata-chi came to admire the artwork and bumped into Yamada-chi and Fuijsaki-chi,” explains Yasuhiro, which raises more questions than it answers.

Movement near Leon catches Makoto’s attention. In all the chaos, Makoto hadn’t noticed Chihiro until now. Chihiro fidgets, looking down, not saying a word.

“You came in here to ogle the bust.” Hifumi seethes. “I saw Hagakure Yasuhiro-dono poking its nipple!”

“Well, you came here to make a move on Fujisaki,” says Leon.

An embarrassed squeak pops out of Chihiro. By the desk, Hifumi twitches and starts feeling around the floor around him, as if searching for something.

“We were collaborating, you ignoramus. Fujisaki-tan wanted me to design a character for her. I have sketches to prove it.” Hifumi finds a sheet of paper by his foot and waves it around. It’s hard to look at when in constant motion, but then Hifumi stills his hand, and Makoto sees a pink-haired anime girl drawn onto it. Next to her is a rabbit split into two colours like Monobear, though it’s half-pink instead of black. “Also, I’m not into 3D like you degenerates, with your minds always in the gutter.”

Leon aims a paint pot. “Say that again, shitface!”

Hifumi screams and hides under his arms. Yasuhiro does the same.

“Do something!” pleads Yasuhiro.

Makoto raises his chin. “I know how to resolve this.”

***

Unlike the previous times when his classmates spent a night in the sauna, when Makoto climbs out of bed the next morning, his stomach doesn’t feel like it’s full of spiders. He doesn’t shove his clothes on and stagger out of his room, and he doesn’t run down the corridor until his heartbeat throbs in his head. His gait is easy, relaxed. When he sees Monobear, his smile doesn’t drop like it usually does. It sharpens into a smirk.

“I can’t stand it!” Monobear thrashes its paws, stomping its feet. “Your face! It’s more hideous than usual!”

Instead of walking away, he stops. “You must be referring to my look of victory. I know how to trump your under-handed tactics to get us to turn on one another. We’re not scared of you anymore.”

“Gah! I didn’t expect you to resort to such vulgar means. Don’t get cocky. I’ll come up with something.”

Seeing Monobear uncomfortable invigorates the spring in his step. He leaves Monobear to mope and as he arrives outside the cafeteria, the door opens. Out comes Leon, who freezes when he sees Makoto.

“Good morning, Kuwata-kun. How was it last night?” asks Makoto. “Did you two put aside your differences?”

A strange grimace overcomes Leon’s face. He hunches his shoulders and averts his gaze.

“Yes, thank you, goodbye!” Leon speedwalks away.

Makoto watches him over his shoulder as he takes a few paces into the cafeteria. Because Leon left so quickly, Makoto didn’t get the chance to learn more about the prior night’s bonding session. He did thank Makoto, though, so it can’t have been that bad.

“Naegi Makoto-dono!” Hifumi calls out. Most of the class are in the midst of eating breakfast. A wide smile shines on Hifumi’s face as he waves. “Thank you most unreservedly for last night. It was an incredible experience. I’ve never done that sort of thing before with another person before. It was most enlightening...”

At least his demeanour is more in line with the other students who visited the sauna. Makoto supposes that not everyone displays them in the same way. As outgoing as Leon is, he might not be so open when it came to showing his emotions. It’s like how when Makoto is happy, he smiles and laughs, and when his sister was happy, she used to shriek and bite people’s arms. Luckily she grew out of that.

He hopes he can see her again soon.

“You’re welcome,” says Makoto warmly. “Who knew the sauna would bring so many people together?”

It makes sense though. In there, they are relaxed. They have privacy. There are no distractions. All that is left for them to do is talk and come to an understanding. If more institutions had something like a sauna, Makoto thinks the world would be a better place. Already he can see a difference. Mondo and Kiyotaka no longer bicker. Aoi pours tea for Sakura and Celes. Junko and Sayaka take turns feeding each other. The sight of it all washes over Makoto like gentle sunlight.

Byakuya scoffs from a different table to everyone else. “These bonds are ever so fickle, if they can be altered by a single night in the sauna. So easily created... and ultimately so easily broken. I look forward to seeing how this develops, or should I say falls apart.”

“You’re just sayin’ that because you’re a friendless geek,” says Mondo.

“Hm?” Byakuya cocks his head. “Did I just hear a fly buzz past?”

Mondo rises from his chair. “Why I...”

Kiyotaka springs up and grabs Mondo’s shoulder. “Pay him no mind, Kyoudai. That sort of person cannot be reasoned with.”

“Paying no mind will be easy for him, seeing as you need a brain to have a mind,” says Byakuya.

With a snarl, Mondo makes a lunge toward him. Kiyotaka is quick to manoeuvre behind Mondo and hook his arms around his armpits, pinning him in place. Byakuya’s lips curl as he regards Mondo, as if looking at gum on the bottom of his shoe.

“Guys, please!” Makoto says, jogging over. “Why don’t you go to the sauna and...?”

“No.” Byakuya’s cup clinks against its saucer like a tongue clicking. “I would rather warm up in the incinerator than spend a minute in the sauna with any of you.”

He stands up and strides toward the cafeteria door. On the way, he passes Makoto. For a few moments, they’re close enough to almost brush shoulders, for Makoto to turn and grab his arm. However, Makoto’s fists remain at his sides, and he allows Byakuya to leave unobstructed. It’s for the best that he doesn’t try to insist Byakuya come to the sauna, at least for now. Had they made physical contact, Byakuya would have probably told him to drop dead for touching his jacket with his filthy commoner hands.

Though Byakuya has left the cafeteria, the lively atmosphere that Makoto entered into doesn’t bounce back. By the time he sits down with his breakfast, most of the class have vacated the cafeteria. He starts eating his toast.

“Hey, Naegi...” Aoi shuffles over, wringing her hands. Makoto is surprised to see her as he thought she had left already. “Is anyone booked for the sauna tonight?”

“Nope. Why?”

“I was thinking...” She cringes. “Perhaps me and Sakura-chan could have a session?”

Makoto’s brow furrows. They seemed cordial less than five minutes ago. Out of the whole class, he considers their relationship to be the closest even when taking into account those who had been to the sauna. Those two are often together, whether they are training, exploring the school hand-in-hand or leaning against each other as they read magazines in the recreation room.

“Have you and Oogami-san fallen out?” he asks.

“Oh, um...” Aoi rubs the back of her neck. “No.”

“So why do you need to spend a night in the sauna together?”

“Right, right. I forgot.” Aoi laughs weirdly and flaps her hand at him before walking away.

Makoto’s eyes scrunch up in thought. All he can think of is that Celes has wedged between Sakura and Aoi, causing some friction that Aoi doesn’t feel comfortable talking about yet. That must be it. He resumes his breakfast. She’ll tell him when she’s ready.

***

Makoto doesn’t exactly avoid Byakuya, but he doesn’t seek him out either and ends up not seeing him at all for the next few days. Like with Touko, he needs to find the right opportunity to put forward his suggestion rather than try to force it the first chance he gets. When cookies are taken out of the oven, one doesn’t touch them right away or else their hand will get burned. Instead, the food has to be left alone to cool. Having spent several afternoons with Byakuya so far during their imprisonment, Makoto knows that Byakuya is more than capable of being scalding hot with his glare, his words and his sneering. Being around Byakuya can be so intense that Makoto has learned to brace himself for psychological abuse whenever they hang out.

However, Makoto knows that Byakuya is a good guy, deep down. Very, very deep down. Makoto has seen glimpses. It was Byakuya’s idea to have Sakura escort male students on trash duty to prevent them from doing anything seedy with the girls’ rubbish. And sometimes, Byakuya seems genuinely interested in Makoto’s way of life, even if he tries to disguise it with disgust. Byakuya has come from a different world than the others. That’s why he is how he is. That’s what Makoto tells himself. He does the same with Touko. And the others as well, to an extent, but mostly those two.

Upon entering the cafeteria one morning, Makoto discovers most of the class seated at the main table. It’s breakfast time, yet he can’t see so much as a single grain of rice. There is no food at all.

“Are we having a meeting?” he asks, racking his brain. He can’t remember anyone mentioning they would be having one today.

“Nope,” says Aoi. “Oowada, Ishimaru and Fujisaki-chan are making breakfast for everyone this morning.”

Her stomach gurgles.

“It should be ready any minute now,” she adds, pouting, before planting her face into the table. Sakura gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“We’re not even allowed in the kitchen,” Touko pipes up. She’s the only one not at the main table. “I s-said I could make my own breakfast, but Ishimaru insisted I sit down and let them handle it. Argh... men shouting is one of the worst noises in the world...”

Makoto doesn’t know what to expect when the kitchen door opens ten minutes later. Mondo emerges first, holding a tray in each hand. Behind him is Kiyotaka, who not only has a tray on each palm, but also on his upper arms and one on his head. At the back, Chihiro carries a teapot.

“Do you need help?” asks Makoto, rising to his feet.

“The offer is appreciated, but we are more than capable,” replies Kiyotaka. He makes it to the table without a single tray overbalancing. “Please enjoy!”

A complete traditional breakfast appears in front of them. Grilled mackerel that makes Makoto’s mouth water. Miso soup with chunks of squash both sweet and savoury. Steamed rice that fills Makoto with warmth from the very first mouthful. He chews spinach salad while Kiyotaka rambles about the research they put in to bring this meal into fruition. It’s not the first time Makoto has eaten this sort of breakfast since arriving, as Sayaka has prepared some for him a few times, but something about the gleam in their eyes and the pride in Kiyotaka’s voice makes this meal one of a kind.

Everyone is in the midst of eating when Byakuya arrives. A few heads turn.

“Togami-kun, did you oversleep?” asks Kiyotaka.

Byakuya walks toward the kitchen. “No.”

“There is a helping in there left out for you. I was thinking if you didn’t show up, we could bring it to you. But as you are here, there is no need.”

“I will be preparing my own breakfast.”

Kiyotaka’s face falls. “But... we made enough so you could have some too.”

“That was your error in judgement, not mine. I never asked you to do that.”

Makoto expects Mondo to start shouting and spraying spittle, but instead he says in a tight voice, “Togami, I would appreciate it if you tried our cooking.”

“And I would appreciate it if you shut up,” replies Byakuya.

Mondo’s chair scrapes back as he stands up. Byakuya doesn’t linger to observe his reaction, disappearing into the kitchen.

“I can’t stand that guy,” says Mondo. He lifts a hand and clenches it into a fist in front of himself. A lopsided squint scrunches his face. “He’s a fuc-! Freaking weirdo. S’like he’s from another planet or something.”

“Why? Because he didn’t accept your food?” comes Touko’s voice. The others look over at her. She fidgets with her chopsticks. “He’s right, you know. You chose to foist it on him... Y-You wanted to make him indebted to you, like you did to me. I bet after this meal, you’re going to corner me and have your wicked way...”

“H-Hell no!” Mondo waves his hands, mortified. “I don’t wanna go anywhere near you!”

Her head jerks back. “Why not? It’s because I’m ugly, isn’t it?”

“I... um... ah!”

“I have a good idea. Fukawa-san and I can pay you back by preparing a meal some other time,” says Sayaka. She tilts her head to one side with a smile. “If I may be so bold, would you tell me the recipe for the soup? Perhaps we can substitute the mushrooms with something else.”

Touko grumbles something, but everyone’s attention is focused on Kiyotaka. The situation isn’t exactly resolved, more akin to putting a bandaid on a broken bone, but Makoto shoots an appreciative grin at Sayaka for de-escalating it. She does seem genuinely interested in what Kiyotaka has to say as well though, nodding along as he gives a detailed blow-by-blow description of the cooking process.

He’s still explaining it when Byakuya returns. Other than a few glances, no one really acknowledges him. Even Touko doesn’t speak, chewing on a fingernail as her eyes flutter between him and her plate. With his gaze trained forward, Byakuya carries his tray of breakfast across the cafeteria and past the tables.

When he reaches the door, a voice cuts through Kiyotaka’s lecture.

“Please, Togami-kun, don’t push us away. Everyone should get along,” says Chihiro, standing up. The others are silent as they listen. Byakuya looks over his shoulder with a blank expression.

“Oh? Are you talking?”

“I-I...” Chihiro folds inward, eyes pricking with tears.

The sight makes Makoto’s heart twinge. If Byakuya doesn’t feel bad about upsetting someone as gentle as Chihiro... then perhaps he really doesn’t have a heart after all.

“You’re back to your whimpering,” says Byakuya coldly. “I must have imagined you trying to talk back to me.”

Chihiro doesn’t answer and just looks down. Mondo bares his teeth. His body looks so tense that Makoto fears he’ll suddenly spring up with such velocity that no one would be able to stop him before he reached Byakuya. Next to him, Kiyotaka puts a hand on his shoulder, but the grim expression on his face makes it plain that he feels similarly to Mondo.

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” says Aoi, scowling.

“D-Don’t you badmouth Byakuya-sama,” snaps Touko. “He’s a piece of art, l-like David by Michelangelo.”

“So Togami gets a free pass to say whatever he wants but I don’t?”

“I think you need to unwind a little, Togami-kun. Why don’t you join someone in the sauna tonight?” says Makoto quickly, hoping to draw the focus away from Aoi and Touko. The current clash is bad enough. They don’t need another running alongside it.

Byakuya pushes up his glasses.

“Are your ears just a fashion accessory? I told you that I don’t want to get to know any of you more intimately,” he says.

Sayaka taps her chin. “Perhaps a trip with Naegi-kun wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

For a moment, Makoto’s heart skips, but then he realises that she means him going with Byakuya, not with her. The sensation is swiftly replaced by an uneasy flutter. He wouldn’t object to the idea. Yes, Byakuya’s company does tend to drain on him, and the idea of spending a whole night with him is sort of overwhelming, but a trip to the sauna could fix that. They could learn to understand each other better, and Makoto thinks he would have more patience to try than most of the others.

“Never,” says Byakuya, shuddering, his voice as flat as he crushes Makoto’s hopes. “He’s not my type at all.”

The door shuts behind him. A heavy silence slumps over the rest of the group. Mondo punches the table, staring down.

Chihiro sniffles, drawing Mondo’s gaze.

“Fujisaki, you can’t let that bastard talk to you that way,” he says.

“S-Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise!”

“S-...” Chihiro lets out a sob. Then another, eyes filling with tears.

Junko scowls. “Great, now look at what you’ve done. Don’t you think Togami gave her enough of a verbal beating?”

“Oh geez...” Guilt crumples Mondo’s face. He glances at Kiyotaka, who nods, then he turns back to Chihiro and plasters on a toothy grin. “Hey. Um... how about you and I go to the sauna tonight?”

Chihiro’s head snaps back. “H-Huh?”

The rest of the class stare at Mondo too. Makoto wonders if the others have the same mental image of Chihiro, short and slender and cute, juxtaposed with Mondo, big and muscular and ruggedly handsome. So far, there hasn’t been any mixed gender sessions in the sauna, but he doesn’t see why there can’t be as long as everyone is okay with it. It’s just sitting in a sauna and talking, after all.

There’s a long pause before Mondo reanimates, waving his hands in front of himself. “It doesn’t have to be the whole night. And I’ll be keeping my clothes on. And, uh, we’ll keep things light and easy. I promise.”

Aoi reaches a hand toward Chihiro. She’s too far away to touch Chihiro, so she lays down her hand nearby. “If you want to say no, just say. He’s an intense guy.”

Indeed. Mondo didn’t remove so much as a loafer when he went into the sauna. Makoto can’t see how anyone can get more intense than that. Kiyotaka managed to keep up with him, but barely.

He thinks back to that first visit with Kiyotaka and frowns. “You never said who won your contest.”

“We said it didn’t matter,” Kiyotaka reminds him. “Do not change the topic, Naegi-kun.”

Mondo turns to Chihiro. “I won’t be offended if you decline. I know I’m scary-looking... sometimes, when I see a cute girl, I freak out and scream in their face, but...”

Makoto isn’t sure that this will help Mondo’s case.

“But he has a good heart,” Kiyotaka chimes in. He pats himself on the chest. “Both from good morals and a healthy diet.”

Chihiro smiles. “All right, Oowada-kun. I’ll come tonight. And I’ll keep my clothes on too.”

“A-Are you sure?” Makoto asks. “It gets really hot in there.”

“Yup.” Chihiro nods. “If I’m with Oowada-kun, I think I’ll be more than fine.”

***

If Makoto awoke the next day and someone told him that Chihiro was in the infirmary after fainting in the sauna, he wouldn’t have been surprised. Chihiro did try to reassure Makoto about going in fully clothed, but with all the optimism Makoto has, he isn’t completely convinced. Mondo’s a big, tough, strong guy, and Chihiro... isn’t.

He decides to visit the cafeteria first, foregoing the infirmary. This turns out to be the right decision as both Mondo and Chihiro are there, eating breakfast together. Whatever transpired the night before has the pair smiling and exchanging fond looks as they fiddle with their cutlery. Almost the whole class has gathered around their table, as if drawn in by their gravitational pull.

Almost the whole class.

Neither Byakuya nor Touko are present. Either Byakuya acquired his breakfast before Makoto arrived or he plans to wait until the cafeteria empties. As for Touko, Makoto doesn’t know where she is or if she’ll show up. One time, she mentioned off-handedly that she isn’t used to eating meals with others. She had started to join them here, though, even if she never sat at their table. Perhaps he should check on her later.

Chihiro’s laugh cuts through his thoughts like sunshine parting clouds. Everyone around Chihiro leans in closer, basking in the joyful sound, and Makoto’s feet bring him over to the table.

“Good morning, everyone,” says Makoto. “I take it last night went well?”

“Yep,” says Mondo, grinning.

“I had fun.” Chihiro is equally joyful. “I had my reservations, but we took it nice and slowly.”

Leon smacks Mondo’s shoulder. “Way to go!”

Makoto didn’t realise Leon was so passionate about their classmates bonding. Though, when he thinks about it, Leon is the Super High School Level Baseball Player. Working in a team should be up his alley. Or maybe it’s because he has experienced the benefits of the sauna with Hifumi. That makes more sense actually, because Leon often talks about ditching his team and taking up a career in music. He can’t help feeling a bit of pride that it’s his idea that has made Leon so supportive of Mondo opening up to Chihiro.

“Hey, Fujisaki, why don’t you bring that smile up to the gardens with me?” asks Leon with a smirk and a jerk of his head.

Mondo sets a hand onto Chihiro’s shoulder. “Fujisaki is going to lift some weights with me later.”

“Really?” Leon’s eyebrows raise.

Chihiro nods, perking up. “Yup!”

Makoto is surprised too. Not that programmers can’t have other hobbies. But whenever Aoi or Sakura have asked Chihiro to work out with them, Chihiro always blushed and declined. Perhaps this is the influence of Mondo.

The power of the sauna may never cease to amaze Makoto.

“Eh? A beefy Fujisaki-tan?” asks Hifumi, with a hand over his mouth. “Doesn’t Oogami Sakura-dono already fill that niche?”

Kiyotaka chooses to focus on Leon. “Kuwata-kun, if you need a partner to accompany you to the garden, I volunteer. Shall we feed the chickens? Dig up weeds? Try to discover a new species of worm?”

Leon winces and scratches the back of his head. “Actually, I was planning on just vibing there.”

A look of horror splatters across Kiyotaka’s face. His shoulders jolt too, as if Leon swung a fist at him.

“Vibing? That’s a terrible habit to get into. It may be less harmful than actual cigarettes, but it’s still not good for you. You should take up healthier activities, like worm identification.”

“I said vibing, not vaping.” Leon screws a finger in his ear. “And you should be quieter. Damn...”

Mondo rests a hand onto Kiyotaka’s shoulder but looks at Leon. “Here’s something you can do instead. How’s about you both check out the sauna together?”

“Are you sure?” says Kiyotaka, his brow wrinkling. “I do not want to endanger our bond, Kyoudai.”

“You won’t. I’m totally cool with it.”

“Friendship isn’t a finite pool, Ishimaru-kun,” Makoto chimes in. “If you become closer to Kuwata-kun, that won’t diminish your connection with Oowada-kun.”

“What he said,” says Mondo, flashing a thumbs up with the hand not still on Kiyotaka’s shoulder.

Leon looks Kiyotaka up and down and shrugs. “You’d be better company than Yamada at least. Sure. Why not? There’s plenty of Leon Kuwata to go around.”

***

The next morning, Makoto hums to himself as he gets ready. He taps his foot in time with the tune as he showers, and when he catches sight of his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he smiles. There are no bruise-coloured shadows under his eyes from a lack of sleep. No longer does he dread waking up, fearing an altercation took place in the sauna that led to someone’s death. When he first arrived, he had felt powerless against Monobear’s killing game, but now he is in control. Now Monobear is the one squirming and avoiding them. Everyone becoming close won’t necessarily break them out of the school, but it will help them survive.

He expects to find Kiyotaka and Leon getting along. The thought excites him. They probably won’t be at the same stage as Kiyotaka is with Mondo yet, with those two often complimenting the other and feeling each other’s muscles. But perhaps they will be sharing jokes or wrapping their arms around the other’s shoulders.

However, as he approaches the cafeteria, he hears shouting.

“Sakura-chan, how could you? I thought you were my friend!”

Makoto rushes in. Several chairs have been knocked over and a table is overturned. At one end of the cafeteria is Aoi, her index finger trembling as she points it at Sakura.

While Aoi is shaking all over, Sakura stands very still.

“It seems you did not know me as well as you thought,” says Sakura, her arms folded over her chest.

“What’s happening?” asks Makoto, his stomach rock hard. He doesn’t know if he’s more confused or terrified. Before today, those two have never argued. They’ve never glared at the other, shoulders squared, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice.

“One second they were fine, then the next they’re at each other’s throats,” says Yasuhiro from beneath a table. The rest of the class are hiding down there with him.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” says Aoi, turning to Makoto. “I saved myself a really nice donut to eat as a nighttime treat, and Sakura-chan... Or should I say Oogami... ate it! I found her this morning with the rainbow sprinkles still on her face.”

“It was delicious,” says Sakura.

Aoi rests the back of her hand against her forehead. “I fear that our friendship is well and truly broken by this act of trickery and deception.”

“It’s not that bad,” says Makoto, who had expected something far more serious. “It’s not like she’s a mole for the Mastermind or anything...”

Sakura stiffens. Aoi glances at her, then puts her hands on her hips and thrusts her chin up higher, pouting.

“It is a big deal to me! She betrayed my trust and our bond has become cold and broken. There’s nothing that can be done to repair the damage.”

Makoto scratches his chin. “... You could go to the - ”

“The sauna?” Aoi butts in. She huffs loudly. “I don’t think it’ll work, but I suppose we can try, if it’ll stop you insisting.”

“I wasn’t insisting.”

“Come on, Oogami. Let’s get this over with.”

Aoi marches out of the cafeteria. Sakura and Makoto look at each other for a few seconds, then she leaves without a word.

The next morning, Sakura and Aoi are all smiles, feeding each other breakfast.

***

Every pair that enters the sauna later emerges with a stronger bond. Even if they fall out again later, an overnight stay repairs the damage. Sayaka and Junko accuse the other of being secretive, and a spell in the sauna has them visiting the chickens together afterwards. Mondo and Kiyotaka insist the other could attract more women with their good looks, and later they’re coming up with ‘team names’ for themselves. Aoi calls Sakura a ‘toilet head’, and then they’re holding hands and whispering and giggling.

Weeks roll into months. The sauna is in use almost every night, and nobody murders. Nobody dies. Makoto considers the sauna a success. He reckons he has seen almost every combination of students go in at least once. Only a few students haven’t gone in at all.

“I’m good,” says Yasuhiro as he throws his shirt into his laundry basket. “I’m... ah, not into that sort of thing.”

Yasuhiro makes a quick retreat from the laundry room soon after. Makoto doesn’t go after him. What Yasuhiro said is fair enough, because Yasuhiro doesn’t seem to really argue with the others. Whenever someone confronts him about something, he either runs away or yields immediately. Which is still a problem, but not something for the sauna.

After Makoto loads his clothes into one of the washing machines, he makes his way toward the library. When he tried ringing Touko’s doorbell earlier, she didn’t answer. There is every chance she simply ignored him, but rather than camp outside and wait, he figures he would see if she or Byakuya are in the library. He hasn’t seen much of either of them recently, and while almost everyone is bonding, they seem to be steadfast outsiders.

So much isolation can’t do anyone any good.

The library is silent when he arrives. Makoto barely breathes, as if that small sound may be enough to send vibrations that make the books quiver off their shelves. Or chairs swoon and hit the floor. Even the clock could drop to the floor like a mouth falling open in shock. He creeps further inside but hasn’t gone very far when he spots Touko, pressed against a free-standing bookcase as she peers at something on the other side.

Though it’s not something, but someone.

“You’re an eyesore,” drawls Byakuya’s voice. “An eye floater, in fact. How I wish I could have you surgically removed. Get out from behind there.”

Touko’s body tenses. Makoto follows her as she comes out, hanging her head. She doesn’t seem to intend on saying anything, wringing her hands in front of herself. Nearby, Byakuya sits at a table, one leg crossed over the other. In one hand he holds a book, a finger tucked in to mark his page while he has it shut.

“That wasn’t nice,” says Makoto.

Byakuya’s already irritated expression pinches harder. “Shut up. You don’t understand. Fukawa has been staring at me for the past hour from over there.”

Yet he didn’t tell Touko to go away within the first five minutes. Instead, he only spoke up when Makoto arrived, but Makoto doesn’t point that out to him. If he did, Byakuya would immediately explain how Makoto was wrong and stupid and should become a scarecrow.

Great. Now Makoto is coming up with insults for himself. He can’t imagine what reason Byakuya would give. His brain works completely differently to anyone else he knows.

Makoto breathes in.

“I know what you’re about to say,” says Byakuya. “No, I will not go in the sauna with her. Or anyone. Your little power trip ends here. It has already got you big-headed, talking back to me.”

“Actually, no,” says Makoto in a level tone. Byakuya and Touko stare at him. “I think it’s best neither of you go in there with anyone. I don’t think anyone would be able to endure a night with you without getting physical.”

He walks out without looking back.

Maybe some people can’t be helped.

***

Though Byakuya, Touko and Yasuhiro don’t participate in any bonding sessions in the sauna, they also don’t seem interested in committing murders. Yes, Byakuya and Touko insult anyone who hovers around them for too long. And yes, Yasuhiro talks an awful lot about how much money organs sell for on the black market. Despite that, Byakuya claims he won’t allow Monobear to pressure him into killing, Yasuhiro has mentioned about some people on the outside who want his head on a platter and Touko is content so long as she’s near Byakuya.

If they’re not trying to murder anyone, Makoto can’t be too disappointed that they won't go to the sauna. The only one who is upset by the lack of killing is Monobear, who after weeks of absence, suddenly materialises in front of Makoto within a few paces from his room’s door.

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” says Monobear, whose robot paws are positioned so it looks like it’s holding up two middle fingers. It stares up at him, trembling, like whoever is controlling it is shaking as they hold the controller. Makoto imagines one for the PlayStation.

His lips twitch into a smirk. “Did you come to admit defeat?”

Monobear freezes, then taps its paws together. If it could sweat, it probably would be drenched right now.

“I never expected you to come up with such a scheme,” it says. “I don’t have any cameras in the sauna so I can’t see what goes on, but I’ve watched them as they’ve swaggered out of the locker room. Argh...! Yes, you win. You’ve bested me.”

Makoto’s grin widens. Monobear tilts its head to one side and stops trembling.

“... but am I saying that because I mean it, or do I want to lull you into a false sense of security so you’re unprepared for what I have planned next?”

The corners of Makoto’s lips droop.

“We’ll still defeat you,” he says. Monobear giggles into its paws.

“Upupupu... We’ll see.”

Then it leaves.

Makoto doesn’t move from where he’s standing, fists clenched at his sides. He can’t let what Monobear said get to him. The only reason Monobear would mention having something planned is to unnerve him, not because it actually knows how to counterattack.

That doesn’t stop his stomach from hardening though. Makoto almost wants to go back to his room and sleep the feeling off, but he forces himself to continue toward the store room. Earlier that day, Mondo uncovered a crate of cola bottles, and Makoto wants to keep some in his room for convenience. The stock might run out if he leaves it too late. Also, he doesn’t want to be out past ten. While he doesn’t think he’s in any danger anymore, he still intends to abide by the rule the class agreed to.

Just after he passes the last dorm door in the corridor, someone flits in front of him, blocking his path. He bumps into them and takes a step back as he steadies himself.

“Sorry,” he says, looking up. Opposite him is Kyouko Kirigiri, who despite being walked into, doesn’t so much as wobble in her high heeled boots. She doesn’t blink either, staring at him as he offers an apologetic smile. “I didn’t see you there.”

“That’s quite apparent.”

Kyouko doesn’t move out of the way, frozen to the spot like an ice sculpture. In contrast to her icy demeanour, he feels his face warm. She seems to be waiting for him to do or say something, but he isn’t sure what.

“So... um, how was last night with Celes-san?” he asks. “Did you resolve your disagreement about whether gloves or socks are more intimate?”

“Yes,” she says. “But...”

Makoto’s back slams against the wall. A gasp whooshes out of him in surprise. Before he can move off, Kyouko’s hand strikes forward, landing just next to his head. He freezes.

“Naegi-kun.” She stares down at him. “I am not happy with you.”

“H-Huh?”

“You have been sending all of us to the sauna to settle our differences and get to know each other better, yet you have not gone in there a single time.”

He shrinks back, as hard as that is to do when she has him practically pinned to the wall. “I don’t really fight with anyone here.”

Her frown darkens. “I believe you are a pushover, a hypocrite and a coward. I resent you right now.”

His lips quiver but no words come out. He hadn’t realised their friendship had soured so much. Or at all. She leans in, almost pressing into him. Her long lavender hair sweeps toward him like knives. They don’t touch each other, but his heart pounds so intensely that he thinks she might feel the vibrations in the space jammed between them.

When he breathes in, her rose-vanilla scent sticks in his throat like barbs. She tilts her head to one side, very slightly.

“I think it’s time that we go to the sauna together,” she murmurs. “Is anyone booked in there tonight?”

“No, I - ”

“Good.”

Kyouko withdraws. Makoto’s knees nearly buckle as the weight of her proximity lifts. She starts walking away, and he follows her, lightheaded. The sauna isn’t too far, but his mind is quick to dig its teeth into what she told him. About how she resented him. Her expression had been cool and guarded when she spoke, as it often is, so he doesn’t know if she really meant it.

At the least, she seems angry with him. As they walk, she won’t look at Makoto at all. He doesn’t understand. The reason he hasn’t gone to the sauna isn’t because he thinks he’s better than anyone else, but that he hasn’t clashed with anyone enough to warrant it. Also, he’s pretty sure Kyouko doesn’t dislike using it. She has visited the sauna multiple times without complaint. Just the other night, she went in with Celes for a third time.

He looks at Kyouko and glimpses something dark on her pale neck. His head jerks back.

“Kirigiri-san?” Kyouko doesn’t answer. Makoto’s eyes are wide. “You have a bruise on your neck.”

She slows. Stops. Places her hand to the mark.

“Things got... intense with Celes-san last night,” she says.

“Celes-san did that to you?”

“Yes.” Kyouko keeps her back to him. “She can be very passionate.”

“Wow...”

As successful as the sauna has proven to be, this isn’t the first time someone has come out of there with a minor injury. Leon had a bruise after a visit with Sayaka. Funnily enough, that had been on his neck as well. And Aoi once said that Junko had been a bit rough with her, leaving a few marks, though he hadn’t been able to see where.

Makoto would prefer it if they didn’t get violent at all, but at least their injuries are only surface-level. They pass through the noren hanging in the doorway and arrive at the locker room, where Kyouko stops in the centre.

“Naegi-kun.”

“Yes?”

“Please have your back to me while we are undressing. I will do the same.”

“Undressing...” Realisation finally hits him and he yelps, shoving a foot back to steady himself. Somehow it had slipped his mind that most people went into the sauna in only a towel. He tugs at his hood but even as he holds it away from his neck, he feels like he’s being strangled. “I... um... I can keep my clothes on. I mean, you can too. Ha ha ha...”

Kyouko’s inscrutable countenance does not crack. “Strip. Now.”

She doesn’t raise her voice, but her command nonetheless whips against him. He straightens sharply.

“Y-Yes, Kirigiri-san...”

Makoto grabs himself a towel. His hands shake and fumble as he peels off his clothing. All he can think about is Kyouko doing the same behind him. Instead of trainers, she would be unzipping her boots, and he would be tugging off trousers while she shimmies her skirt down her milky legs. The mental images set his face aflame. If he turned around right now, he could see...

No. Kyouko told him to visit the sauna with her so they could repair their relationship. Makoto can’t let himself be distracted. The fact the thought crossed his mind is disrespectful enough.

“I’m ready,” comes her quiet voice. “You can look now.”

Like him, her body is swathed in a towel. Though she’s covered up, his stomach still coils at the outline of her body and the bare expanse of her shoulders and arms. Her hands hover over her chest, and he notes that she has kept her gloves on but he doesn’t question it. Her gloves are an integral part to her, like Celes’s twin drill pigtails or his own ahoge. He tweaks the knot in his towel, hoping it’s secure enough. Focusing on it also gives him a reason to not look too much in her direction, though he has no reason to avoid her. This is just a trip to the sauna where they’ll share grievances and bond and become better friends for it. Like everyone else has done.

“Let’s go,” she says, and he makes himself look at her. Colour has crept into her cheeks, but he only sees her face for a second before she turns away.

They pass through the baths, heading toward the back where the door to the sauna is located. Makoto concentrates on keeping his breathing in time with the slap of his feet against the tiles. Kyouko flings the door open. When she and Makoto look in, both freeze.

“Togami-kun?” Makoto blurts.

He recognises the mop of blond hair immediately. With a jolt, Byakuya springs back from being on all fours, landing on his backside further along the bench. Doing so reveals Touko, who had been lying beneath him. She shrieks and adjusts her towel while Byakuya hastily repositions his legs.

“... and... Fukawa-san...?” Makoto’s eyes dart between their red faces as he struggles to understand what he’s seeing. Though it’s pretty damn obvious. The moisture on their lips isn’t sweat.

“D-Don’t you know how to knock?” snaps Touko. She tugs her towel higher, even though her chest is already covered. “Get out! Out!”

“Togami-kun, you told me you didn’t want to go in here with anyone.”

“I did,” admits Byakuya. Without his glasses, he looks... not younger, exactly, but more vulnerable. More human. He’s also without his shirt, and he has a more toned physique than Makoto expected. “But what you claimed earlier, about how no one could endure a whole night without getting physical with me, dug under my skin. I thought I would come in here with Fukawa and prove you wrong.”

“When I said ‘physical’, I meant fighting.” Makoto pulls his gaze up and away from Byakuya’s chest. “Not making out. The sauna is meant to make people reconcile and deepen their bonds.”

Byakuya scoffs, “Do you honestly believe everyone has been coming here to have heart-to-heart conversations? You can’t be serious. Every single pair you have sent in here has been using this place as a... a kissing booth.”

“What?” Makoto stares.

“How can someone be so dense?” Touko titters. She doesn’t have glasses on either, and if she can see Makoto without them, he must be hanging upside down in her vision from where she’s lying down. “Didn’t you notice everyone’s reasonings for these supposed fallings-out becoming more and more preposterous? Asahina and Ishimaru argued over the best swim stroke. Enoshima and Kuwata threatened to come to blows about whether a certain shade was blood orange or red. Maizono and Oowada had a shouting match about whether dogs or cats are cuter.”

“I...” Makoto’s teeth scrape against his lips. “Why would they go here to do that?”

“It’s obvious,” says Touko. “There are no cameras. And with you booking out the sauna, you prevent others from coming in when it is in use so there is no threat of intrusion.”

Makoto shakes his head. All this time, he had prided himself on finding a way to defeat Monobear. He thought he had been instilling the others with good values, with hope. Now he feels like he has run into a boulder that had been painted to give the illusion of there being a tunnel. No wonder Monobear has been so uncomfortable about it all. It makes too much sense.

But if what they’re claiming is true, that everyone apart from him knew the sauna was being used this way, that meant Kyouko invited him here with the intention to do the same. His head spins trying to process this new information. The rising heat from the sauna doesn’t help, even with him in just a towel. How Mondo survived a night with his clothes on is beyond understanding.

Assuming he kept his clothes on the whole time, that is.

“Everyone knew,” says Touko snidely. “Except, it seems, you.”

“Something about this place makes those inside give in to... urges.” Byakuya shudders. “I chose the person who fills me with the most revulsion to come in with me, and yet even I couldn’t resist.”

The smirk on Touko’s face shrivels. Byakuya doesn’t look at her.

“Is this true?” Makoto asks Kyouko, his heart racing. He doesn’t know what answer he would prefer. If he wants his plan to have been running exactly as he intended, or for Kyouko to announce she brought him here with the intention to have her way with him for several hours.

Makoto doesn’t know how he would react if the latter turned out to be the case. She’s cool, she’s smart, she’s intimidating and she’s cute. Him, though? Why, he’s just Makoto Naegi. His brain would probably explode.

Kyouko combs her fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her shoulder, before folding her arms over her chest. Her chin hitches up.

“No. It’s not true,” she says calmly. “We have all been using it just as you said. To talk.”

There’s no telltale movement to her face. Her lashes don’t quiver and the corners of her lips don’t tweak upward. Kyouko is impossible to read.

Byakuya speaks first. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” She is stony-faced. “We genuinely just sit in the sauna and talk for hours. It seems you two were under the wrong impression.”

“That’s-!” Touko gets out one word before cutting herself off, at a loss.

“B-But...” Byakuya’s stammer draws Makoto’s gaze. He has seen a range of expressions on Byakuya’s face. Boredom. Anger. Concentration. Smugness. This one is new. Harder to define. His eyes are wide but unseeing. His mouth moves but no sound comes out. It’s a riddle that Makoto can’t quite work out.

Kyouko shrugs. “You claimed you chose Fukawa-san to accompany you as she fills you with the most revulsion, but I believe you mistook attraction for disgust. You just really wanted to make out with her, didn’t you?”

Byakuya twitches while Touko bites her lip, staring up at him, but he doesn’t look at her, or anyone. He rises off the bench, stands still for a moment, and then bolts out of the sauna.

“Wait for me, Byakuya-sama!” Touko shrieks. With much less grace, she tumbles off the bench and staggers after him.

When they’re gone, Makoto looks at Kyouko.

“So no one was using it as a kissing booth?” he asks.

“Oh, we all totally have been,” says Kyouko, smirking.

He stares. “So why did you say...?”

“I wanted to mess with Togami-kun. Gaslight him a little bit.”

Kyouko takes Makoto’s hand and pulls him into the sauna. The door shuts behind them.

#togafuka #touko fukawa #byakuya togami #toko fukawa #danganronpa #togafukaweek #one shot #fanfiction #makoto naegi #kiyotaka ishimaru #mondo oowada #everyone is in this i'm too lazy to tag #dr1

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m-y-fandoms · 1 year

Text

COMMISSION: Aoi Asahina x Female Reader Part 2

Info: SFW, fluff with a little angst - slow burn, friends to lovers, Trigger Happy Havoc Spoilers. Reader uses she/her.

7K words split into two parts - Part 1

The third time Hina made her feelings known, Y/N was denser than a concrete wall not to notice.

Though they found a way to spend every day together, Hina often had to claim her time in between Y/N’s long sprints of slave-like labor. Even as their friends were picked off one by one, as everyone’s hope diminished and moods soured, Y/N was as selfless as always. People like Makoto and the level-headed Kyoko reminded her it was okay to take breaks, to rest, and always refused her services when she offered to add more to her plate. Hina was the only one she truly listened to, the only one who could make her put down whatever task she was currently doing and see some sliver of reason.

Today, now done with her rounds of chores and a makeshift therapy session with Hiro, Y/N was in the kitchen, enjoying making donuts from scratch with Sakura and Aoi. Hina was obsessed with the fried dough treats, but always seemed to keep her figure no matter how many sweets she consumed.

“If there’s one thing that's positive about this horrid place, it’s that we never run out of food,” Y/N mentioned. She forced a smile, having just witnessed the death of Chihiro and Mondo the day before. Class trials chipped away at her constitution. They were the epitome of conflict and betrayal, a tumor of negativity.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Aoi replied. “Sakura and I have been able to bulk up and even get vitamins on the side for our training, although…” she huffed, “I need to lay off on the carbs and desserts. I’m all for enjoying myself but if I keep getting rounder and rounder, who’s gonna want to marry me?” she pouted. Y/N noticed this about Hina. She had this tiny insecurity about not being feminine or womanly enough. It came out rarely, and was often short-lived. Sakura was her rock in this regard, helping validate and reassure all self-doubts. Sakura was living proof that a woman could be strong, opinionated, driven, unconventionally attractive, honest, wise, and still radiate beauty and femininity.

“You’re so silly,” Y/N leaned her head onto Hina’s shoulder. “Anyone would be lucky to marry you.” She spoke casually, nearly yawning. She meant every word. Aoi, not flustered often by flattery, felt her heart skip a beat.

“She’s right, Hina.” Sakura conceded in her low, steady voice.

“Really, you guys think so?” Hina sighed, kneading dough dutifully.

“Of course,” Y/N stated plainly. “I mean look at you. You cook, you’re athletic, beautiful, funny.” She teased, pulling at Aoi’s apron. All three of them were covered in flour and oils despite their attempts to protect themselves.

“I just don’t have any experience. No one in middle school ever had a crush on me, much less wanted to date me. I think I’m just too forceful and manly. Hey… Y/N,” Aoi perked up, a mischievous note in her voice. She took a bit of flour from her hand and bopped it onto the tip of the more timid girl's nose. “Wanna be my practice girlfriend?” She cackled as if she was joking, concealing the true meaning behind her words while testing the waters, though Y/N was oblivious as ever. Y/N’s flush underneath her cheeks, blood rushing to her face and the tips of her ears. She played along with the joke that she wished wasn’t just a joke.

“Yeah, of course! I’ll help you train in the ways of the heart, just like you and Sakura train for any sport!” She furrowed her brow, flexed her arm, feigning the determination of an Olympic athlete. The girls all laughed. “Step one: dinner date. Step two: sneaking out past midnight. Step three: pocky game?” She quipped.

“Sure! I actually asked Makoto to be my practice boyfriend, but I think I scared him off. I was just joking, but that's kinda embarrassing, huh?” Aoi scratched the back of her neck sheepishly, feeling like the world’s biggest bonehead.

Huh? She asked Makoto? I didn’t even know they spent time together. Y/N’s mind raced. Why was she feeling a little jealous right now? It was so unlike her. She shook herself out of it, changing the subject.

“I’m sure he got over it. Anyways, I’m glad to have you two in this messed up life we are all now stuck in.” Y/N hummed sleepily. She’d have to turn in for the night soon.

“Speaking of, I got you a little gift, Y/N! Well, it’s not really a gift. I just saw it while exploring the school with Sakura and thought it would be perfect for you, since you’re always cold and all.” Rummaging around in her bag, which she’d placed on top of the crates of non-perishables behind them, she pulled out a pack of reusable hand warmers, and handed them to Y/N.

The fourth time Aoi expressed her feelings, it nearly shattered their friendship.

The trials slowly crushed Y/N’s resolve. Usually, Hina and Sakura carried her through them. They answered questions for her, took punches aimed at her. They defended her ferociously. She could usually get away with being pretty silent the whole time, and didn’t talk about the trials much after they were done, but that didn’t mean that on the inside she wasn’t dying slowly. This trial in particular though had been a hard pill to swallow. She spoke up more than ever this time around, providing defenses and alibis. It didn’t go unnoticed by Aoi. She was especially shaken by the execution of Celeste, and it was this unwavering, unearned loyalty to the gothic gambler that had lit a fuse under Hina that night. They had their first ever fight over the loss of a girl who didn’t give a damn about either of them.

“Why are you crying over her? I’ve never seen you cry over the deaths of our classmates before now, so why?!” Aoi interrogated Y/N, who sat in her bed sobbing. They were in the privacy of her room with the door locked, ready for the confrontation Aoi had been holding in for hours.

“I just saw the corpse of my f-” she paused and corrected herself, “classmate for the like seventh time, Hina! Maybe it’s just all weighing on me and I’ve been holding it in!” Y/N spoke through bouts of tears.

“Ah ha! See! You were about to say friend! I know you, Y/N, you think that bitch was your friend! You’re crying because her death hit you harder than the others. She wasn’t your friend just because you spent a lot of time with her, Y/N! She was using you!” Aoi spat.

“Stop it!” Y/N didn’t want to hear any of the truth that she already knew deep down.

“No, I’m gonna say it because I held it in during the entire trial when I wanted so scream at you in front of everyone! You piped up to defend Celeste’s honor at every opportunity, and for what? Because she made you feel needed and useful? You’re being dumb and naive! You always act like this!”

“That’s not true, I-”

“What about the people who ride or die for you? Would Celeste be here for you right now as you sob over someone who doesn’t deserve it? Has Celeste carried you through the trials because you’re too weak to handle the heat?” Aoi slammed her hands on the bed frame before her, needing to release some of the built up rage.

“You’re not being fair!” Y/N hiccuped, wiping her soaked eyes onto her sleeve.

“No, you’re not being fair. You were up there defending a demon who killed two people in cold blood because she was motivated by greed! What about them and their souls? You know you had no right defending her until the bitter end. You’re stupid if you couldn’t see that she was guilty as sin! You always wanna see the best in people,” she mocked the friend who was folded upon herself in a sad lump on her mattress, “but in here, it will cost you and the people you care about their lives! I’m there every day for you, and you’re crying over someone like Celeste?!” That part caught Y/N’s attention.

“Now, hold on! You-”

“While you were doing Celeste’s laundry, relaying information about our new surroundings back to her, making her meals, what did she ever think to do for you?! Who was up every night with you? Who spoke up for you when that asshole Byakuya accused you in a trial? Who asked Monokuma for extra blankets for your room and saves you from nearly every abusive situation you get yourself into?” It was clicking in Y/N’s brain.

“This isn’t about me defending a bad person, this is about you and Celeste, isn’t it?!” Aoi was taken aback by this. She was instantly embarrassed by the accusation, and Y/N knew by the red that rushed to Hina’s cheeks that she was right.

“W-what?” Aoi stammered.

“You’re jealous of her, that I spent any time with her at all!” Y/N sat up, part of her sadness transforming into indignation.

“That’s not what this is about at all!” Aoi wasn’t one to back down from an argument, and she steeled herself again. Backing down proved Y/N right. She was already this far into the fight.

“Aoi, I don’t want to fight with you. I can’t take it right now. You know I hate this! I hate disagreements, let alone having someone rage at me! Just - !” she sighed, putting her head in her hands. She didn’t want to look at her anymore. She didn’t want to think. “Just leave me alone. Please.”

“Y/N...” Aoi felt a twinge of guilt. Her friend was too soft, too kind-hearted to handle even her. She suddenly felt like an asshole for even pushing her there in the first place.

“Leave, please…” her voice shook, and she refused to make eye contact. Aoi stood in silence, reluctant, pensive for a moment, before crossing her arms across her chest - suddenly feeling very small and vulnerable - and left, slamming the door behind her.

The girls didn’t meet up to talk, didn’t ask to speak or hang out for days after that. Who knew if they would ever speak again. In this place, you were friends one day, dead the next.

The fifth time Aoi expressed her feelings for Y/N, it healed what was.

Y/N lay balled up in her bed, lights off, facing away from the door. She’d cried so much she didn’t have any tears left. She’d been broken so badly, she didn’t want to do her daily rounds. No one was served lunch, no one had her shoulder to cry on…

She was done.

Her bedroom door creaked at the hinges as it opened. She didn’t lock it anymore. What’s was the point? No one was safe. A soft light from the hallway flooded in.

“I knew you’d come… I was hoping, anyway…” Y/N sniffled, nose runny. She was met not with the sound of a voice, but of footsteps that sounded involuntary, dragged. It sounded like a zombie, a person losing control of their lower body barely pushing on. Hina stood in front of her bed, hair released from it’s signature high ponytail and cascading down her shoulders, framing her face like a funeral shroud. She wore her night clothes, comfortable shorts and a camisole covered in tear stains.

Sakura was dead, nothing else mattered.

Hina lifted up the pile of many thick blankets and slid into the bed beside what was left of their trio of friendship, their shattered sisterhood. Hina wrapped the blankets snuggly around them both - knowing Y/N was no doubt cold - then wrapped her own arms securely around Y/N. For many long, silent moments, they lay in each other’s embrace.

“I’m sorry…” Hina spoke first, though she didn’t want to. Every word, all energy expended at this point had to be forced out. Y/N knew that. She felt the same way.

“We don’t have to say anything…” Y/N croaked, throat sore and dry from screaming and crying all night.

“Say you forgive me, at least,” Hina’s voice cracked. “Please.”

“There’s nothing to forgive…” Sakura would want it this way.

“I miss her…” A tear ran down Aoi’s cheek and fell into Y/N’s hair.

“She knows,” Y/N replied.

“She’d want us to keep going. Monokuma… whoever is doing this to us, we won’t let them. We have to eat, bathe, stay strong. The others need our minds. Together, we escape. Only together. Right?” Hina’s chest shook as she breathed in shakily. In response, Y/N buried her face into her bosom, the warmth essential for her healing.

They spent the entire night together, crying, mourning, angry. The pillows were soaked by the time the sun began to rise. Dawn would be the start of a new fight.

Aoi leaned down, and placed a feather-light kiss upon her forehead. She felt their relationship shift, just then.

The sixth time Aoi expressed her feelings toward Y/N, she would see them for what they were.

They exited not as victims, but survivors. Breathing in dust and ash as the large, once impenetrable door opened before them, Hina squeezed onto Y/N’s hand so hard she thought it would break. Y/N looked to her right, then her left. Toko, Kyoko, Byakuya, Makoto, Hiro, Hina, and herself, all stood before a world that they once knew. It was unrecognizable. Crumbled buildings, a blood red sky, polluted puddles, the sound of sirens and screams of agony in the distance, this was their reward for pushing through all of these hardships. They lost their friends, some of which had become like family, for this world? All at once, they realized that nothing could have prepared them for this disaster, regardless of how hardened, how strong they’d become through the crucible of the killing school life.

Y/N began to shake at the sight before her. Even Byakuya and Kyoko, two of the strongest mentally among them, stood rigid, their mouths agape in shock. Aoi’s hand shook where it connected to her own, and their eyes met. Y/N saw that familiar brow crease, the angry, determined look Hina got when someone tried to see her broken and beaten.

“She didn’t win.” Hina stated confidently, firmly. She looked to her friends around her.

“No, she didn’t,” Makoto responded, taking the first step out into their new world. He led the group as always, their Ultimate Hope.

Junko didn’t win.

The thought resonated in Y/N’s mind. Aoi released her hand briefly, shaking off her red tracksuit jacket and placing it around Y/N’s shoulders before taking up her grasp again.

“There. It sure is cold out here,” Hina forced a smile, to be strong for Sakura, for everyone they’d lost, and for Y/N most of all.

And Y/N knew, there's no one she’d rather brave this demented new world with.

END

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