#plankton icons | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dangans-ur-ronpas · 4 months

Text

Chapter 2

Give it up for part twoooo

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

From what I know, very few blind people actually perceive their surroundings as complete darkness, and it's more common for people to still perceive changes in light.

For Byakuya, he has low vision, so he can see color and vague outlines, but finer details are more or less impossible. Get Gaussian blurred, idiot.

I'll include content warning tags before each chapter but if I miss anything please let me know.

Content warning tags: mild ableist language (from Byakuya towards himself). Let me know if I need more

< previous - from start - next >

'A killing game!'

The irritating voice of that teddy bear principal is still ringing in Byakuya's head, in time to a sickening, dizzying migraine as he navigates the hall, looking for his room. He grits his teeth with it, feeling fury, disgust, and unease prickling along his skin.

It hadn't even been that long since he was subjected to his family's own inheritance battle, and here he was again in another high-stakes game. With a disability, no less, though Monokuma hadn't mentioned anything about it during his whole spiel about 'graduating' and such. It was entirely possible that Monokuma hadn't planned for it, or else, wasn't responsible for it happening - the bear's personality didn't strike him as someone to be polite enough about someone else's misfortune to not make a show out of it, and Byakuya was sure that if this was part of the game, than everyone else would have some kind of impairment as well, though no one had mentioned such a thing at all.

It was fine. Or, it should be fine; after all, he was Byakuya Togami, the sole heir and savior of the Togami name. He’s survived worse situations. He was the only one out of his father's 16 children to prove themselves worthy, and it was by virtue of his own superior blood and talent, and there was a time where there was nothing in this world that he couldn't conquer.

But now...

He makes it to the end of the hallway and stops, exhaling slowly to calm himself. It was no good. Walking at a normal distance away from the signs made it hard for him to make out who the little pixel icons were supposed to be, much less read the names written on each of the plaques, and the fuzz of pain in his head was blurring his vision even more. He bites his tongue and turns around again. At this point, it was supposed to be nearing the ten PM mandate, so hopefully everyone should be in their rooms, and wouldn't bear witness to his pathetic wandering.

As he turns the corner, he nearly collides with a small shape. As it is, his clumsy attempt to sidestep the incoming figure leads to him stumbling slightly against the wall, and a hand reaches out to catch him by the elbow.

"Hey, are you okay?!" Makoto Naegi. Byakuya bites his tongue on a curse; this was the last person he wanted to run into. "I'm sorry, I was just trying to figure out where everything was, I didn't get a chance to earlier, because, of, you know..."

Byakuya did know, in fact. Earlier, when tensions had been at their peak in the gymnasium, it would have been wiser to stand back and listen as they tried to decide what to do next, but he had been uneasy. He tried to rationalize with himself that the snide comments and casual insults he threw were simply a means to establish himself as what he was in the eyes of others; capable and above all their concerns, and certainly not worried in any way himself.

As a result, he'd provoked Owada, with some snub that he didn’t even remember - something about plankton? Arguably not the best he could have come up with in the heat of the moment. - and Naegi, trying to diffuse the situation, had gotten smacked, and knocked out cold. As Owada took responsibility for his mindless violence and took Naegi to his room, it was decided that everyone should be accompanied by at least one person, at least, with the reasoning that no one would be stupid enough to try and go killing at this point anyways. Byakuya reluctantly agreed, and followed Asahina and Ogami.

Ordinarily, he might have insisted on moving alone, to try and discover anything regarding the mastermind responsible for their situation. But he felt too vulnerable as it was, and paranoid about what might happen if he was on his own again. It made most sense to try and stay by the side of the strongest person here, after all, and Ogami seemed too honor-bound to be intent on killing anyone and Asahina seemed too kind-hearted to begin with. Owada joined their group shortly after, though he had calmed down at this point, and both he and Byakuya pointedly ignored each other throughout the exploration.

Their search was rather fruitless, however. There was no way out, and no way in; windows were sealed by metal plates, doors and exits sealed by steel, and Byakuya suspected that even punching through a wall would be a pointless endeavor, given how the Academy was built to withstand even a bomb.

And this place was Hope's Peak Academy, or at least, a very faithful rendition of it. Kirigiri had gone off on her own and returned with a map, somehow, of the first floor, and it supposedly matched the layout of the original Hope's Peak Academy to a T, aside from the metal barriers. In any case, that meant that the mastermind had the wealth and resources to imprison them in a very secure place, with no hope of escape.

It was another bombshell on top of all the shocking news they had already received, but Byakuya found he could hardly be surprised about it. At this point, he was tired, and more frazzled than he ever had been in recent memory, and wanted nothing more to sleep. He glares at Naegi. "Let go of me."

Naegi does, dropping his arm like a hot pan and stepping backwards. "Um...what are you doing here?"

"None of your business." He snaps. He needed to avoid observant types, like Celeste and Kirigiri, and most importantly, like Naegi. The two girls seemed too smart and calculating, but that meant they weren't likely to reveal his secret yet if they already knew, not unless they had something to gain from him; he had no doubt that the Ultimate Gambler, at the very least, would try and blackmail him somehow before blabbing. Naegi, on the other hand, was also observant, but also stupid and hopelessly honest, and if Byakuya wasn't careful, the idiotic Ultimate Luckster would tell everyone about his affliction before he could do anything about it.

He straightens up, and starts walking again, trying to ignore the sound of Naegi's footsteps pattering after him. He needs to find his room, and quickly, and preferably without drawing the other boy's suspicion - but it was no good. The nameplates were still little more than black-and-white blurs, and he wasn't about to do something as demeaning as reaching out to feel the letters...

"Oh, hey! Your room is next to Mondo's!" Naegi chirps up, and Byakuya freezes. "You're the third door on this side. I'm diagonal from yours, but I'm only second from the hall entrance, so that's not as good..."

"What are you talking about?" In any other circumstance, it might have just been a meaningless comment from a meaningless person. But because it came from Naegi, it only served to set him further on edge. "And why are you following me?"

"I'm just...trying to get back to my room?" Naegi hurriedly explains. "I...my mom always said three was a lucky number, and your room is third from the entrance, so..."

But Byakuya doesn't relax. He thought Naegi stupid earlier, and he still clearly was, but apparently he was slyer than originally thought. This blunt and clumsy kindness was either a ploy to get his guard down, or else, a poorly-concealed attempt at misplaced pity. Either way was repulsive to him, and he cringed at the thought of needing to take handouts from a commoner brat.

"Go away. I'm sick of looking at you." He snarls, and in better circumstances, he would have a better comeback. But Naegi takes the hint and scurries off, bee-lining for his door; which, sure enough, was second from the hallway's entrance on the opposite side. Byakuya waits until his door is entirely closed, before turning to the room that the other boy had pointed out, tracing fingers over the nameplate.

Sure enough, there were the characters of his name, stamped neatly in the wood. He tries the handle and finds it unlocked, and as he enters, he sees the layout of a room - nothing extravagant, but everything seems clean and orderly. He runs his hands over the white sheets of the bed, and finds them soft and of decent quality.

His key is located on the small table in his room with his name engraved on the keychain. His bathroom door doesn't lock, but the amenities are all there. There's an unopened toolkit in the nightstand. His clothes were clean and folded away neatly in the drawers. Everything was as the others had said.

He settles onto the bed with a sigh, falling backwards. It'd been a long time since he felt so exhausted. That throbbing pain was still pounding at his temples, and he wonders if there were painkillers in the school somewhere. He'd have to go looking for them later, somehow...

But he doesn't spend long pondering that, before the room flickers to darkness, and he falls asleep.

Once he managed to get a sense of where everything was, it became much easier to conceal his impairment from the others.

It all came down to a matter of confidence, purposeful movements and good timing, things that already came naturally to him. The good etiquette practices of his upbringing helped too, as during the mealtimes he was always careful where he set down his utensils or his cup, so he was never fumbling around for them. After a few laps around the school in the solitude of the early morning, he became familiar with the locations of the first floor facilities and could locate them by memory. When it came to finer details, like laundry, he carefully made sure so as to be in the room at the same time as Ishimaru, whose moral code would keep him from being a real danger, and whose habit of moving like a exaggerated robot made it easy for Byakuya to figure out how to do the laundry himself, though he ended up ruining a few of his shirts until he got it right. Even Monokuma proved to be a help, making timely announcements in the morning and the evening, which saved Byakuya from needing to rely on reading a clock.

There were some things he couldn't overcome, however. For one, pretending to be normal was exhausting, and keeping his eyes open for long periods of time, trying to focus on all these vague, wiggly outlines without obviously squinting often led to pulsing, insistent headaches that made him feel lightheaded and ill, and he would often collapse into bed as soon as he reached his room, exhausted. Furthermore, his E-handbook proved to be a nightmare to try and navigate. The words and icons were indiscernible to him, and he couldn't even begin to try and find the settings to increase the display size. If he held it close to his face and squinted, he might make out some vague shapes that could be puzzled into the letters of his name, but all-in-all it was impossible. He spent a good portion of his second night struggling over it before he finally gave up and tossed the thing onto his nightstand, frustrated with it and himself.

But it was fine even with these hindrances. Ishimaru's insistence on morning meetings included a thorough read-through of any new changes made through the handbook, which saved Byakuya from having to puzzle over it himself, and most new events were also announced by Monokuma, who was quite thorough in ensuring that no one could make a claim to ignorance when it came to new developments.

It was through one of these announcements, that they learned of the first motive.

Byakuya does not approach the box of discs in the A/V room.

Everyone else had already grabbed theirs and was watching their assigned videos. And already, their previous optimism was falling apart, and giving away to despair. He could hear cries of disbelief and outrage, amidst the quiet murmur of the videos' narration, and could make out the way their forms hunched over in grief, or jerked stiff in shock. At this point, his would be the last one in the box, so he wouldn't need to sort through it - but he had a feeling he knew what he might see.

He couldn't imagine it'd be anyone in his family. His mother was long gone, and his father was as distant to him as a statue; something to be respected, certainly, but not to be loved. That had always been their relationship, and even if he saw that man dead, he doubted he'd feel much more than a brief blip of surprise, and a passing acknowledgement of the transference of his titles.

But he doubted Monokuma didn't know that, and probably chose video subjects with the intention to shock and dismay. If Byakuya had to guess, the subject of his video would be his butler, Pennyworth, and probably the only person he had ever really cared about for a long time; but even if he watched the video, it wouldn't do much for him. Togami servants were expendable, and no matter how much affection he had for the old man, he knew that Pennyworth could never be an exception to the rule.

He only half-listens to Enoshima's attempts at getting everyone to calm down and talk, before a blur of dark blue and white clips him on the shoulder, speeding past him for the door. Sayaka Maizono, the pop star, had just about bowled him over in an attempt to escape the room, and he catches himself with a grunt, bracing an arm against the wall.

"Whoa, are you okay?" Asks someone, Hagakure, and Byakuya scowls and smacks away the hand that goes to help him up.

“I’m fine.” He spits. Of course, lesser people would be affected by such pathetic attempts at riling them up, and it wasn't surprising that Maizono was one of them, considering her position. People that deep in the entertainment industry always had something big to lose.

"Byakuya, what was your video about?" Asks someone else, and he clenches his teeth. He wants to get out of here, and from what he could tell, a good few others have already left. But he needs to get rid of his own DVD first - even if he had no plans on watching the thing, he had no intentions of letting anyone else do so, and possibly gaining any kind of leverage over him, no matter how small.

"Who knows." He replies curtly. He heads for the box, and sure enough, there's only one video remaining. He picks it up and turns on his heel.

"Where are you going?"

"Where else?" He pauses at the door, one hand on the handle as he glances over his shoulder. "To burn it."

He doesn't burn it, in the end. He considers it, but then realizes he actually wasn't sure how to work the incinerator, and wouldn't be able to read the instructions anyways. Instead, he tosses it at the trash can in his room, and he sits down heavily on his bed, fatigue lapping at his limbs.

It was too good to hope that everyone would be able to keep it together after this. Despite the optimism, tensions had been running high, and now there was no way someone wasn't going to snap. Byakuya could only hope he wouldn't be in the vicinity when it happened.

Who could he stick next to now? Previously, he had opted to spend his time either in his room, or when the boredom had become too overwhelming, in the company of at least one of the others. His list of 'safe' individuals included Asahina, Ogami, Fujisaki, Ishimaru, Hakagure, and Yamada, and as annoying and frivolous as they were, they were at least either too principled or too stupid to be threatening, and could make for some decently amusing entertainment. He usually spent his time sitting silently in the same room as them, with a book or a magazine open in his hands as they talked and blathered on about whatever concerned them.

Now, however, his safety with them was compromised. As usual, the only one he could rely on was himself.

Except he wasn't reliable anymore either. Without his eyes, he could no longer be certain of anything. He couldn't even read, and that fact frustrated him to no end. He presses the balls of his palms to his closed eyelids, feeling the warmth of the pressure bloom in his skull.

What am I going to do?

He couldn't remember the last time he felt so unsure about anything.

These thoughts turn over and over in his head, as he considers every possible course of action, mostly finding only dead-ends. If only he could lock himself in his room forever - but that was a coward’s choice, and a shameful one to take. If only he could know what everyone else's motive was, it would help him gauge their threat level - but no, that would mean having to get close enough to them in the first place to get an honest answer, and that might end up revealing his sorry state. If only he could see - but of course, that was impossible, and just wishful thinking rather than anything helpful.

It was circles within circles, and his head was beginning to throb again…

He must have fallen asleep, because when he wakes up, it's to a tinny ding-dong ringing from the speakers in his room.

Disoriented, he half-thinks it's Monokuma's nighttime announcement. But no, it didn't sound quite right, surely he hadn't been asleep for that long? And then it happens again, and it finally clicks together. The doorbell.

He's on his feet in an instant, pulse rocketing. Has it already started? Was someone here for his life?

No...it's too soon, he reasons with himself. No matter how desperate someone might be, it had been clearly stated that the killing needed to happen discreetly, so that a class trial could occur. To try and attempt a murder so soon after the revealing of the motive was too careless, too obvious; and there was no way he could have been targeted as that easy a victim already. Not when he'd been so careful.

But even so...

He opens his nightstand drawer and fumbles for the toolkit, ripping it open with clumsy fingers and retrieving a thin screwdriver that he grips tightly in his right hand. It probably wouldn't do much good against an athletic person like Ogami or Owada, but it was a reassuring thing to have, and he feels the ridges of the handle digging into his palm as he reaches for the doorknob.

The doorbell is chiming again just as he rips the door open, screwdriver half-raised in warning, and the figure who had been standing there yelps and falls backwards. It doesn't take long for Byakuya to recognize that annoying voice, or the ugly green-brown mush of his clothing.

"You." He says stiffly, and the cowering shape of Makoto Naegi flinches on the floor in front of him. He lets the hand holding the screwdriver drop to his side, though his grip remains firm. "What do you want?"

It's a redundant question. He suspects that he knows what Naegi plans to ask, being the nosy, deceitful peasant that he was. Naegi was the type to go around, check on how everyone was doing, ask politely what their videos were about, with seemingly nothing but good intentions and complete honesty. He would try to offer support and encouragement, all while trying to know more, weaseling them for information for the sake of his own curiosity and use; Byakuya hated people like him the most.

"I...I just wanted to check in on you?" His voice is nervous, a little squeaky, and he clears his throat. "You didn't come for dinner."

Was that right? He lifts his wrist on habit, about to check his watch, before remembering he wasn't even wearing it. There wasn't any point when he couldn't even use it anymore. "Don't tell me you're all still having dinner together after all that," He laughs back, voice cold and unamused. "Are you really that stupid?"

There's no response for a moment. "N-no, we didn't. Just about everyone ate back in their own rooms. But I didn't see you go to get food, and neither did anyone else."

"So? What does that matter to you?"

"I'm just worried," There's a stern sort of gentleness in his voice now, and one that throws Byakuya off much more than it should. "Ishimaru said that even if we were shaken up now, we should eat something tonight so we can be strong for tomorrow morning...and, um, we should do our best to get through this together."

"'Together?'" Byakuya repeats, disbelievingly. "Are you even hearing yourself? We're supposed to kill each other." He huffs another mirthless laugh. "I can't tell if you're actually that stupid or just insane."

"I know, I know, but still. That's no excuse to not eat." Naegi shuffles to his feet. He stands nearly half-a-head below Byakuya's eye level, but his back is straight and resolute. It strikes Byakuya then, that he must be determined, because there was no way he missed the screwdriver in Byakuya's hand, or the threatening undertone of his voice, and yet. Here he was, still with the gall to stand in front of him. "Hifumi and Enoshima made ramen soup, but if you don't want it, there's also a lot of packaged foods if you want to prepare something yourself. At the very least, you should get something and bring it back to your room."

"I don't need-" He starts to say, but at that moment his stomach takes the opportunity to gurgle audibly. He feels his face heating, and he scowls. He hadn't eaten since breakfast, given Monokuma’s decision to reveal the motives just before lunch. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" Naegi's face might just be a hazy blot hovering in front of him, but he catches on the slight tinge of amusement in his voice. "Come on. I'll walk with you to the cafeteria."

< previous - from start - next >

#thpff #thpff chapters #byakuya togami #makoto naegi #danganronpa fanfiction #naegami

11 notes · View notes