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When the doorbell rang four hours before the agreed dinnertime, Byakuya knew which guest he would find outside his home. It didn’t matter that its two-toned heartbeat chime was no different than usual. No voice accompanied the sound, nor could he glimpse a face through the window, but he still knew, all the way from the living room couch.
He looked up from his book as casually as if he had been in mid-conversation with the unseen visitor. The same couldn’t be said for Touko, who jolted upright with a gasp. She just avoided headbutting him, grazing past his cheek. Keeping his arm around her, Byakuya used his other to set his book down onto the nearest armrest.
“Stay here,” he said. Though Touko wasn’t pressed into his side so much now, he could still feel her trembling. “I’ll answer the door.”
Byakuya would have preferred it if Touko resumed leaning into his side and reading aloud to him, but they had a guest waiting to be let in. As expected, when he opened the front door, there stood his mother. Even in tall high heels, Anastazja Togami still had to tick her chin up to meet her son’s gaze. She stared at him with blue eyes almost identical to his own. About as cold too.
“Good afternoon, Byakuya,” she said.
“Dinner isn’t for another four hours,” he replied.
“I am aware.” For the occasion, she had dressed in all black. She looked like she should have been at a business meeting, not in someone’s garden even if it was her son’s. “I thought I would inspect your home prior to the arranged meal.”
A muscle quivered in his cheek. “That isn’t needed.”
Anastazja didn’t budge, as stubborn as a reflection. He stepped aside to permit her entrance into the hallway. Immediately, she began scrutinising her surroundings. Her lips curled at a rug that hadn’t been hand washed by a maid that morning. She scrunched her nose at a painting that cost less than a five bedroom house. And as she narrowed her eyes, Byakuya knew she was thinking how this entire building could fit into the entrance hall of his childhood mansion.
“Leave your bag here,” said Byakuya, with a wave toward the hooks on one wall. “Shoes go on the rack below.”
“No cloakroom?” Anastazja remarked.
“We use this part of the hallway as the cloakroom area.”
She pursed her lips like she could smell manure rather than lavender air freshener. “Don’t you think this poses a security risk? Leaving valuables so close to an exit. What if a group of larcenists sent by the Towa Group break in? They need only get past the door to gain access to our possessions.”
“You needn’t have brought anything valuable,” said Byakuya. “We’re having dinner together, not hosting an antiques roadshow.”
Her brow tightened. Though her handbag remained in her tight grasp, she swapped her heels for black slippers and followed him into the living room. As soon as they walked in, Touko sprung to her feet.
“Dinner!” blurted Touko.
Byakuya raised a hand. “... isn’t for another four hours. My mother is just early. We can start preparing it in an hour and still have time to spare. Sit, please.”
He motioned toward the couch. Hesitantly, Touko sat back down and smoothed out the front of her violet dress. Beside him, Anastazja studied the room. No doubt plenty more criticisms about their home brewed behind Anastazja’s rosy lips. She glared at the television secured to a wall. As a child, he had been allotted very limited time to watch it, with his mother saying anything on it could be learned from a book or a tutor. Ultimately, he had often ended up watching old movies recommended by Aloysius whenever he was allowed access to the television.
These days, he still didn’t watch it all that much, but he liked having one anyway.
“Take a seat, Mother,” said Byakuya.
As well as the couch, there was an armchair in a corner of the room. Anastazja strode over to it and seated herself there. Other than a few glances, Touko kept her gaze downward, while Anastazja stared silently at her.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked his mother.
“Sencha tea.”
Touko stood up. “I’ll get it!”
“I will,” he said. Staying with Anastazja was the better option for her. “Would you like some rosehip tea, Touko?”
She sank back into the couch. “Y-Yes please.”
“Why can’t Touko get drinks? Do her legs not work?” asked Anastazja, even though Touko had jumped up twice within the last minute. Touko’s shoulders hunched.
“They do work, as do mine. But I know exactly how you like your tea,” he said.
Byakuya had heard his mother reproach their staff enough times for her tea preferences to be ingrained into his brain. Three grams of leaves to two hundred millilitres of water. Eighty degrees celsius. If using tap water, let it run cold for ten seconds before heating it. The only person to get it consistently correct was Byakuya’s butler, Aloysius Pennyworth. Alas, though he had resumed working for Byakuya since leaving Towa City, he was currently on vacation.
There was silence as Byakuya weighed tea leaves in the kitchen. As he transferred water from a yuzamashi into two kyusu. Growing up, Byakuya had seldom visited his mansion’s kitchen. Never needed to, not when he always had chefs and servants and cleaners at his disposal. All he had to do as a child was let himself be moulded into the perfect heir.
At first, no one spoke in the adjoining room, but he knew conversation was inevitable, like the wait for rosehips to steep.
“You’re Touko, yes?”
“That’s my name.”
“I judge you to be one-hundred-sixty-four centimetres. You have gained weight since graduation. How much do you weigh now? What is your blood type? Bust size?”
“I... um...”
Usually, Touko’s mouth had no filter, something that both annoyed and endeared him, not always at different times. But this was Byakuya’s mother interrogating her. Byakuya held in a sigh and re-entered the living room with a single cup.
“Please refrain from those sorts of questions, Mother. There’s no need to conduct an interview.”
Touko flashed him a grateful smile.
Anastazja started, “I am simply wondering...”
“Her weight doesn’t affect you,” he said, calmly but firmly as he passed her the cup. While her tea was ready, the rosehip would need another ten minutes. She accepted it without a word, silent as its steam as she sucked in her cheeks indignantly.
He sat down next to Touko and folded his arms over his chest.
“How was your flight?” he asked in a slightly lighter tone.
“Loud,” said Anastazja, not yet drinking. “The business lounge at the Beijing airport is abysmal. Poor internet. Overpriced buffet. I spent the whole layover in a napping pod.”
“Does that mean you haven’t eaten?” asked Byakuya.
“I ate dim sum in Beijing. I will be fine until dinner.”
Anastazja brought the cup’s rim to her lips. A wrinkle dipped between her brow, joining the others on her face, as she started drinking. Byakuya only noticed them if he looked at her closely, like with the white hairs amongst her blonde. By the time he popped out of the room and returned with the rosehip tea, she hadn’t said another word, her expression reserved. It wasn’t until he had got halfway through his tea that she lowered her cup and turned her eyes to him.
“Where is your other partner? I would like to meet her too. Jillian.”
Tingling arose in Byakuya’s chest that tried to climb up his throat and escape in a gasp. He pressed his lips together, keeping his facial features steady. Next to him, Touko’s skirt bunched up in her hands as she balled them into fists.
“She’s away,” she said, eyes downward.
“Away where?”
“Jillian comes and goes as she pleases,” said Byakuya. He rose to his feet and placed his unfinished cup of tea onto the coffee table. “You will have to excuse us, Mother. We will need to start dinner preparations now to keep on schedule. Make yourself comfortable. Help yourself to a book.”
“Dinner preparations require both of you?” Anastazja asked as Byakuya took Touko’s hand and led her into the kitchen. Though the sliding door separating the living room from the kitchen was left open, no words passed through it. He didn’t reply and Anastazja didn’t ask again, didn’t say anything while he tied his hair into a ponytail, put on an apron and washed his hands.
In fact, Byakuya and Touko didn’t speak to each other either. They didn’t have to, as comfortable with the silence as the other was. Both pulled out the ingredients and utensils that would be needed and got to work. Byakuya diced a chicken leg. Touko minced an onion. The skillet clacked. He fried the first batch of rice. An egg sizzled. She sliced a scallion and a carrot and caught his eye as she passed them to him.
A grin rose onto her face. Byakuya blinked and felt himself smile back before looking away so he could breathe more easily. Even as he continued prepping the omelette, four eggs with a touch of salt, he could still feel himself trembling faintly. He swallowed. Cooking should have given his mind enough to focus on, yet the image of her face clouded his thoughts. Her violet eyes, her aubergine mane that framed her pale face. And that damned smile. The steam from the skillet flushed his cheeks with heat.
“Are you okay, Darling?” she asked. He could hear the smirk in her voice. She knew what she was doing. What effect she could have on him.
“I’m fine. It’s hot in here.”
“Yeah, your face has gone all red.”
Byakuya couldn’t stop the short yelp that popped out of him. He scowled and adjusted his glasses.
“Behave, you,” he mumbled.
“Why?” Her hands snaked around his body, resting on his hips. She only needed to pull on him gently to coax Byakuya to turn toward her. “Is it because your mother is in the other room?”
A mischievous look danced on her face.
He shivered. “Touko...”
“S-She won’t know what we’re up to. Especially if I have something long and hard in my mouth, so I can’t make any noi...”
The doorbell rang. Two-toned, a pair, like how an axe must rise before it can fall. Both of them jumped. A gasp lodged in Touko’s throat as she tore her hands off him and stepped back, eyes wide. Her hands darted to her neck.
“The door,” said Anastazja.
“I’ll get it,” said Byakuya. He looked at Touko. Gone was her blush, her grin, the glimmer in her eyes, replaced with a fog that most couldn’t see through. Frowning, he touched a hand to her shoulder. “Stay here.”
In response, Touko gave a minute nod, not meeting his gaze. He took away his hand and made his way to the front door. The sooner she knew who it was - or rather, who it wasn’t, the better.
Byakuya squared his shoulders and took a deep breath before opening the door. Within moments, the barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead. He didn’t flinch.
Three figures stood in the doorway, though only the central one, who was holding the gun, earned Byakuya’s full attention. While Anastazja had needed to tilt her head back to meet Byakuya’s gaze, his father kept his head still, regarding his son with dark brown eyes.
“If I had other intentions, you would be dead,” said Kijou.
“I am unkillable.”
Kijou’s trigger finger twitched. “Oh?”
Byakuya didn’t break eye contact, continuing to stand tall. A few seconds passed before Kijou lowered his weapon.
He was early, but not too early. On the flight over, he would have been firing away emails. Probably finished a phone call on his walk through the garden, tucking his phone into his pocket before he pressed the doorbell. After all, Kijou Togami was a busy man. Every second had to be productive. The reason why he arrived early was not because he wanted to spend more time with Byakuya, but because he wanted to catch him out. Come before Byakuya's household was ready for him.
“Don’t you have a butler to answer the door?” asked Kijou. The black-suited men on either side of him stood still, but Byakuya knew if they sensed any danger, they would spring to life. Riddle him with holes because he could finish blinking.
“Pennyworth is away on business.” Vacation, but that would be a word Byakuya doubted his father knew. “I’ll take you to the living room.”
Like Anastazja, Kijou was in formal wear, only he had decided to don all white instead of black. Byakuya’s nose wrinkled as he was reminded of his imposter’s attire. How a nobody had managed to convince anyone that they were the real Byakuya Togami was astounding, even if they were a student at Hope’s Peak.
“This is your wife,” Kijou stated, observing a painting hung up in the hallway.
“Yes,” said Byakuya. Kijou’s gaze slid to the next. He jerked his head back.
“What is this? Why is her tongue hanging out of her mouth like a dog in this one? She looks like a crazy bitc-”
“Do not talk about her like that,” Byakuya cut in sharply.
A glint sparked in Kijou’s eyes. “Or what, boy?”
The two glared at each other, frozen in place. Byakuya’s eyes flickered toward his father’s bodyguards, and he ended up being the one who pried himself away from the stand-off first, continuing into the living room. When they arrived, his mother was nowhere to be seen, though he could hear her voice coming from the kitchen.
“I was measured twice a day when I was pregnant,” said Anastazja. “Weight. Blood pressure. Vitals. And of course, I had all the usual prenatal exams at the appropriate times.”
“I will keep that in mind for when I’m pregnant, w-which will hopefully be soon,” replied Touko. “We’ve been trying every morning and night and...”
“Touko. Mother,” said Byakuya loudly, face burning. “I’m back.”
Anastazja appeared in the doorway. Her jaw clenched as she spotted her husband.
“Ah, so it is your mother that I heard. I thought it was a fly buzzing,” said Kijou.
“Kijou,” she stated coldly. Touko appeared next to her and squeaked, shrinking back instinctively before forcing herself to plod forward.
“T-Togami-sama!” She bent forward from the waist, striking a practised forty-five degree angle. “G-Good afternoon!”
Kijou turned to face Byakuya but pointed his finger in Touko’s direction. “Which one is this?”
“I’m Touko,” said Touko, straightening.
“Oh, the one from the paintings,” said Kijou. “Not much of a looker, is she?”
Byakuya glanced away and saw Touko mouth, “Neither are you.”
He hoped his father would misinterpret his expression to be one of disapproval and not realise his lips pressed together as he tried not to smirk. A sneer curled Kijou’s lips.
“I must say though, having only two women is far from tradition but it’s a step in the right direction at least,” said Kijou. He folded his arms over his chest. “Where’s the other one? Jean? Joanne? It was something western.”
It would have been wishful thinking to assume his father wouldn’t ask about Syo, with Jillian being the name that Byakuya had given his parents instead of her actual one. Touko meshed her hands together and cringed. Byakuya pushed up his glasses.
“Jill is not in at the moment,” he said. Referring to her as her actual name would open a can of worms. Hopefully, she wouldn’t make an appearance. While he had come to tolerate her presence and more, he was well aware that she was an acquired taste. Like tuna eyeballs.
She would have enjoyed that analogy.
“Well, call her back in. I want to meet her. I’m sure there are household chores for her to do,” Kijou demanded. “What’s the point of having a woman around otherwise? There must be things to clean. Meals to cook.”
“Meals!” Touko squawked before dashing back into the kitchen. Anastazja turned a bit to watch, eyebrows slightly raised, but then she moved to face her husband and her son properly again.
“I noticed you only have portraits of yourself and Touko hung up,” said Anastazja. “Where are the pictures of Jillian?”
“I do have pictures of her on my walls,” replied Byakuya. He pulled out his phone from his pocket. “Here, I will show you a photo...”
As he went into his gallery and flicked to a photo of Syo, his parents drew up either side of him. Anastazja’s eyebrows rose and a scowl ripped across Kijou’s face.
“But that’s Touko,” said Anastazja.
“It’s Jill,” said Byakuya.
They both squinted.
“No, that’s Touko. She even has the little mole by her lips,” said Anastazja, bringing a manicured nail to the screen. “Or are they twins?”
“Not exactly,” Byakuya said.
A rare expression of bewilderment washed over Anastazja’s face. She looked at the screen again.
“And here I was thinking you had gained some sense,” scoffed Kijou. “What sort of stupid prank is this? This is obviously the same person! Or are you trying to claim they are two personalities that share the same body?”
Byakuya winced and adjusted his glasses. “Actually...”
“Oi, oi, oi!” rumbled a low voice from outside. “Who the hell are you hotties? Is my darling organising an orgy without me?”
With his heartbeat drumming between his ears, Byakuya rushed to the front door and swung it open. In the garden was none other than Genocider Syo, as well as a dozen men in black suits, all aiming guns at her. Syo twirled her scissors around her index fingers. The grin plastered onto her face didn’t match her narrowed eyes that darted about, weighing up each foe.
Byakuya got in front of her. Guns clicked all around them. “Don’t lay a finger on her.”
They didn’t budge, but they didn’t shoot either.
“As much as I like being behind you, step aside, Darling,” said Syo. “I’ll deal with these bastards.”
In the next instant, she was ahead of Byakuya, her red dress flailing. A second later, blood sprayed the air as a suited man gasped and clutched his arm. Gunfire rapped the air but Syo zigazagged across the garden with ease, avoiding all their bullets. More blood gushed out of another man’s chest, who gargled and fell to his knees. The scissors in her hands shone silver and red. She laughed.
“Syo!” Byakuya shouted.
His father burst out of the house and barged past him. A look of surprise passed over his features upon seeing Syo, but he quickly hardened them and commanded, “Arms down, men.”
“You as well,” Byakuya told Syo.
The men still on their feet lowered their guns. Syo clicked her tongue but obeyed Byakuya’s order, dangling her arms either side of her body. Despite the ceasefire, the air remained charged. Remained heavy. Kijou took a few steps forward.
“How? You’re...?” He looked over his shoulder, even though he couldn’t see into the kitchen from where he was, then turned back to Syo, who just grinned. “When did you...?”
“What’s going on?”
Kijou spun around and gave a start. Whoever he had expected to see hadn’t been Touko, wringing a spatula in her hands by the front door with Anastazja at her side. He looked this way and that, between Touko in the doorway with egg on her apron and Syo covered in blood in the garden.
“Not bad. You downed a decent number of them,” said Anastazja.
“We should go back inside,” said Byakuya. He pushed up his glasses. Kept his voice casual. “Our slippers will get dirty.”
Once inside, Touko returned to the kitchen, while the rest retired into the living room. Rather than offer his father a beverage, Byakuya sat down, drained. As soon as he was seated, Syo plopped herself on his lap, hooking one arm around his back.Anastazja and Kijou opted to remain on their feet, staring down at them.
“So you do have her pictures up on the walls,” said Kijou, keeping a stern face despite how Syo had draped herself over his son. “When I saw them in the hall, I thought it was that other woman intoxicated and pulling an idiotic face. That tongue of hers looks revolting.”
Syo twitched her chin forward, smirking. “Well, it feels superb. Ask your son and he’ll confirm.”
She thrashed her legs in giddy delight and threw her head back, belting out a wretched laugh. Absolutely no shame. Unable to see his own face, Byakuya could only imagine how red it had become as he cringed. It was probably as red as his father’s.
“Excuse me?” said Kijou.
“What? Have you never had a blowie before, Mister Byakuya-sama’s dad?” asked Syo.
Anastazja covered her mouth with one hand and let out a strangled noise that didn’t sound human. Kijou’s nostrils flared.
“You need to control your woman. Saying such ghastly things... and that her big mouth almost earned her the wrath of my security. You should be on your knees thanking me for stopping them from killing her.”
“Sorry, bucko, but he only goes on his knees for me and Gloomy,” said Syo. She wagged a finger. “And actually, it’s the other way around. He stopped me from killing your harem. They’ll be fine, by the way. Maybe a little traumatised. But I just tenderised them a teeny bit, that’s all. I may have sworn off a life of murder, but protecting my darling overrides everything else.”
Syo pulled out her scissors from the holster on her thigh and started snipping the air with them, another round of laughter booming from her lips. Kijou’s teeth ground together as his shoulders tensed. As his eyes bulged. Mortified though Byakuya was, he couldn’t help feeling slightly amused at his father’s reaction, but he did his best to not show this on his face.
Meanwhile, Anastazja’s lips screwed up as if she had just sucked the juice straight out of a lemon. “You met her at Hope’s Peak, correct?”
“I met both my partners there,” said Byakuya, doing his best to keep his voice even as Syo wiggled on his lap and hovered her tongue close to his cheek.
“Figured you’d meet that sort of women in a gimmick school like that,” grumbled Kijou.
Anastazja placed a finger by her chin. “I don’t recall seeing Jillian at the graduation.”
Syo stopped wiggling and tilted her head to one side, confused. “Jillian?”
“She graduated separately,” said Byakuya quickly. ‘Super High School Level Murderer’ wouldn’t have attracted the sort of press that the school wanted.
“What title does she have?” asked Anastazja. Byakuya stiffened. Down the line, there was a good chance they would learn about Syo’s past, but he didn’t want it to be today.
“Dinner’s ready!” Touko chirped.
Only when Anastazja and Kijou turned toward the kitchen doorway did Byakuya allow himself to exhale. Everyone gathered at the table, with Touko serving them before sitting down too. The same meal was set in front of each of them. Fried rice omelette with a fruit salad. Anastazja opened the omelette and picked out the corn with her fingers, while Kijou wrinkled his nose.
“Is that tomato ketchup zigzagged on the top?” he asked.
“It is,” said Touko. “You’re not allergic, are you?”
“No. I am not allergic to anything,” he said, and he started eating.
For a while, nobody said anything. Despite the omelette’s simplicity, each mouthful delivered a blend of salt, sweet and spice, with the cool fruit salad refreshing the flavour. In the past, Touko had told Byakuya how she used to buy this at a local kissaten to eat before school, as at lunchtime there was a good chance the other students would steal her lunch or spit in it. Then when the kissaten closed down, she learned to make her own. Quick. Easy. Simple. The sooner she was out of the house, the better.
“Jill. You said you swore off a life of murder,” said Anastazja. “Does that mean you have killed before?”
Byakuya’s hand froze, halfway up from his bowl to his mouth.
“Yup! All self-defence, totally,” Syo said brightly. “Though after meeting Byakuya-sama, I’ve settled down and not killed a single soul since. Not even a fly’s.”
Kijou eyed her tongue, looking like he was imagining it snatching a fly out of the air like a frog’s.
“But you would kill again if needed, yes?” pressed Anastazja. “Theoretically, if someone asked you to murder someone....?”
A frown darkened Syo’s face. Her tongue flicked, making Kijou jerk back, but he quickly adjusted his jacket, acting as though that had been why he moved in the first place.
“Eh, Byakuya-sama may have come out of your vagina, but I only listen to what comes out of his mouth,” said Syo.
It was just as well that Byakuya had paused from eating because he suspected he may well have choked. Kijou flinched and Touko let out a small whine, clutching either side of her head and almost slamming her face into her meal. Anastazja, however, continued calmly looking at Syo.
“But if he asked, would you?”
Byakuya grimaced and set down his fork. “The whole reason she stopped killing is because of a promise made to me. I would not have her commit any more.”
“What if someone asked you to ask her?” asked Anastazja.
“You sound like you want her to kill someone for you,” said Touko, fidgeting with her fork.
“Who do you want killed, Mother?” asked Byakuya.
Anastazja’s eyes flickered toward Kijou. “We’ll discuss it later.”
As they continued eating, Byakuya caught his father shooting Anastazja a few suspicious glances. Once finished, Byakuya and Touko cleared the table as quickly as possible, not wanting to leave Syo alone with his parents for too long. But he also didn’t trust her with his fine china either. Fortunately, Syo seemed content with staring at Kijou and Anastazja, smiling extra wide to try to unnerve them.
Though unfortunately, that didn’t last. Byakuya was pulling out clean plates from a cabinet when he heard Syo’s voice pipe up.
“Y’know, the first time I talked to my darling was when I woke up naked in bed with him. I missed all the fun he and Gloomy got up to the previous night, but I’ve made up for it since.”
A harsh squint contorted Kijou’s face. He looked ready to vomit up what he had just eaten. “You what?”
“D-Dessert!” Touko burst in with a plate of Parisian flan. She set it down onto the table, almost hard enough to crack the plate, and began cutting slices frantically.
“Hey, be careful,” said Byakuya, walking in briskly. His face was still hot from what Syo had said. “You’ll cut yourself.”
“A little bit of blood ain’t half bad flavouring,” Syo said before throwing her head back and laughing.
Byakuya held out his hand toward Touko. She relinquished the knife and sat down while Byakuya finished serving the flan. Upon receiving her slice, Syo picked it up and ran her tongue around it, over its crispy top, along its creamy centre. He was frowning at her when he felt a tug on his sleeve and turned.
“M-May I?” Touko asked in a small voice, holding a spoonful of flan toward him.
A flutter stirred in Byakuya’s stomach. He tightened his jaw and turned his head away slightly. “If you insist...”
But she didn’t say anything else, didn’t need to. She fed him a spoonful of flan, smiling. Then another. In front of his parents. Feeling his face burn, Byakuya was almost surprised that Touko and Syo hadn’t managed to melt him into a puddle yet between the two of them. He considered himself a strong, unshakable man, yet they could affect him in such a way. It should have disgusted him. It used to.
“If Pennyworth is on vacation, and you don’t have any servants, did you hand make this or buy it from a store?” asked Kijou, who had yet to start his flan.
“I made it myself,” said Touko.
“You?”
“It’s delicious,” stated Anastazja, putting down her spoon, while Syo stuffed her slice into her mouth with her hands. Kijou clucked his tongue.
“Keh. I expected nothing less.” He prodded at it with his spoon. “After all, don’t all women know how to cook?”
“Do you know how to cook?” asked Touko.
“Why should I need to?”
She turned back to Byakuya and slid more flan into his mouth.
“Then that sounds like incompetence on your part,” she said coolly.
“Excuse me?” said Kijou.
“I’m warming to your wives, Byakuya,” said Anastazja.
“It seems like your other woman is gobby too,” sneered Kijou. “Trashy. Trashy women, the pair of them.”
Syo was too preoccupied with licking her fingers to answer, but Touko was not.
“I learned to cook for myself at a young age. Not because I was a girl, but because my parents often forgot to feed me.” She pushed back her chair and stood up. “Other times, they would starve me for punishments, or because they decided I wasn’t bony enough. I had to improvise with what I had. Scavenge around for food. At first, I cooked myself mostly ready meals, but when I moved out during high school, I taught myself more. I’m still teaching myself.”
Though Touko trembled, she continued on. She placed her hand over her heart. Clenched it into a fist.
“A-All my life, I’ve had to fight to survive. I’ve been through more shit than you can conceive of. And I came out with not hate in my heart, but love.”
Kijou hiked up his chin haughtily. “Do you want sympathy?”
Byakuya tensed. He had seen a similar scene before. Specifically, he had been in one. Only it wasn’t his father who had said those words but him, back at Hope’s Peak, just before Monobear called them to the gymnasium for the killing game’s second motive. Back then, Touko had cringed, had wrung her hands and bit her lip. She had shrunk under his withering glare, but now, her expression didn’t so much as quiver.
“No. I am telling you because you appear mistaken,” she said to Kijou. “You can’t look down on me when I’m the one looking down on you.”
With a yelp, Kijou jerked his head back. Unmoved, Touko gazed down at him, lips curled, eyes sharp. He opened his mouth, tried to retort, but his tongue seemed to have turned to sludge. Though Byakuya hadn’t been the one that Touko scolded, his eyes widened and he found himself unable to speak as well.
No one had ever spoken to his father like that before. Then again, Touko was unlike anyone that Byakuya had ever known.
“Way to go, Gloomy!” Syo cheered, darting over and wrapping her arm around Touko’s shoulders. Touko whined as Syo hugged them closer and nuzzled their cheeks together.
“Get off me! Y-You’re all sticky!”
Syo just laughed.
“Well, well,” came Kijou’s low voice. Byakuya turned and to his surprise found that Kijou was smiling. “I must admit I was unsure of your choice of women, but after meeting them, I can’t deny they’ve got character. Both of them have flipped my expectations on their heads... They have my blessing, Byakuya.”
For a few seconds, Anastazja stared, but then her face relaxed as she smirked. No, smiled too. “And mine.”
Byakuya blinked, feeling the corners of his mouth slowly curl upward. He fixed his glasses, wanting something to do with his hands. He didn’t need nor want his parents’ approval. For the Togami Conglomerate, everything was done for its benefit. His conception had been an investment, much like his father’s creation. Marriage was for public appearances. Traditionally, one of his children would take over from him, while the others would die in what looked like accidents. No attachment involved. No love.
Yet here he was, smiling too.
Then the doorbell rang. A two-toned heart beat. Badump. And again. Badump. A third time now. Badump. The air thrummed, vibrating in every crevice, crawling under Byakuya’s skin like a roach even as the room remained motionless. No one else was supposed to visit today.
His eyes darted over to Touko, who had become still, and Syo, who no longer grinned.
“Well, Byakuya?” said Anastazja calmly. “Aren’t you going to answer the door?”
No.
She sighed and got to her feet. “I suppose I will have to.”
His eyes widened. Don’t. He forced his dry lips apart and reached a hand toward her. Please. She turned to him, and he wondered if he had spoken aloud after all. Maybe he had just not been able to hear himself over the thunder between his ears.
But then she turned away and headed toward the living room door.
A loud bang rang out, coming from the front of the house. Everyone froze. The sound of splinters exploding and clattering wailed in their ears. Anastazja dragged a foot behind herself, and when she stepped back again, her heel touching down a second time, the living room door ripped apart, spitting out hunks of wood like they were teeth.
No one moved. No one could. They could only watch as oozing flesh poured in through the broken doorway, veiny skin shining like saliva on a tongue. It straightened slowly, limbs protruding out from its moundlike body. Two sets of legs, one pair on either side like a crab. For arms, there were only two in the usual places, thick as tree trunks and probably as long, but where a crab would have claws, it instead had heads. Though they lacked eyes, the heads had slits for mouths, almost smothered by the engorged tongues hanging out.
“Touko...”
It was a woman’s voice. One head had long black hair, and the other had shorter brown hair. Byakuya shifted in front of Touko and Syo, not taking his eyes off the creature. The heads rose with symmetrical oscillating motions.
“Where’s our invite?” another female voice asked.
“What did you make us? I hope it’s katsudon.”
“Yuck, it should be something western! A burger! Fries!”
While they bickered, Byakuya’s gaze drew up to the top of the mound. There, he saw a lump of wrinkled flesh, no neck, also lacking eyes, almost brushing the ceiling. Unlike the other two heads, it didn’t even have a mouth. Instead, its stomach opened up vertically, a sideways mouth with rows and rows of teeth.
“Let’s play a game, Touko-chan,” it said in a male voice.
Touko whimpered. Its left arm lunged forward. Syo shoved past Byakuya and widened her stance, scissors poised, teeth bared, but the arm continued past her. And Byakuya. And Touko.
Anastazja screamed. Byakuya’s heart lurched as he spun around. One of the heads had wrapped its tongue around her torso. No matter how much she writhed, how much she groped at the head, she couldn’t free herself. Her long nails left raw red streaks across its skin, but the head didn’t so much as flinch. Tears streamed down her cheeks like the blood running down her twitching legs as she tried in vain to escape.
The only other time that Byakuya had ever heard her cry was behind a closed door. Another arm surged past him, rustling his jacket. Kijou cried out as the second head coiled its tongue around his body. Frantically, he punched and scratched at the face, but his short nails had no effect.
“My guards!” Kijou wheezed. “Where are they?”
Syo had tenderised them earlier, but the monster had finished them off. Anastazja and Kijou both groaned, squirmed, wailed. The creature drew back its arms, dragging Byakuya’s parents toward itself, dribbling gore across the carpet. Then it slowly raised its hands, dangling its victims. Byakuya stood frozen, feeling his blood turn to ice, while Touko and Syo trembled.
“Look, Touko-chan, I even have toys for us to play with,” said the male voice. “Come join us.”
“Hell no,” snarled Syo, hunching her shoulders and bending her legs. “I’m not letting you near Gloomy ever again.”
She jumped up.
“Syo!” Byakuya yelled, reaching a hand toward her.
Though physically impossible, her body seemed to hover level to the head at the top of the monster’s body. She shoved her scissors into it. Blood splattered out as she descended, dragging the scissors down the whole way. When she reached the ground, she backed up, her scissors coated in red.
The monster’s four knees buckled as it slumped forward, landing onto its front. Where Syo had initially pierced the top head, a crack had formed, splitting it into two halves. A face emerged like yolk from an egg, with wide blue eyes and a wide smile. Byakuya instantly recognised it, even without the strawberry blonde hair that usually framed the face, or the twin bear clips it used to wear.
“Upupupu!” went Junko Enoshima’s face.
The heads’ tongues tightened, and Byakuya’s parents snapped into two.
***
Byakuya jerked awake. He was lying down on his side in a dark room.
A dream. It was a dream. Of course it had been a dream. Junko killed his parents before he escaped Hope’s Peak. Before they could even Touko.
And Junko was dead.
Dead, dead, dead.
Byakuya rolled onto his back and reached a hand toward Touko’s hair, only for air to thread through his fingers instead. Ah, that was right. His hand flopped down, hitting the floor of his Towa City holding cell. He wasn’t even in a relationship with Touko Fukawa.