Chapter Text
If you had asked Toko why she’d even bothered showing up to that stupid party, she couldn’t have told you. Maybe it was just because it was the first one she’d ever been invited to, even if it was slightly begrudgingly.
“I-If you don’t want me there then just say so!” Toko had stuttered, voice like gravel as she shrank away from Naegi. He cornered her at the shoe lockers at the end of school, right when she was her most vulnerable, the creep.
“No! It’s not that at all! Ugh.” Naegi pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a deep breath, “I just mean, if you’re free, you can come. I want everyone to be there.”
“You just feel sorry for me right? T-That’s it, isn’t it? Y-Y-You just want to take the moral high ground by being the first person to invite an ugly girl like me to a party, right?!”
Naegi drooped, physically. It made him even shorter than he already was, even in comparison to a girl like Toko. Weren’t men supposed to be taller than girls? What was Naegi’s deal? Was he just trying to make her feel even more insecure? What an asshole.
Her precious, most esteemed Master would never do such a thing, of course. That’s why he towered over her, and made her feel all small and insignificant and weak, like a girl should feel.
Speaking of Master.
“Togami is coming.” Naegi announced, slightly hesitantly, like he felt bad for even saying it.
“W-W-Well why didn’t you just say so!”
In the end, this was probably the biggest reason as to why.
The party was everything she’d thought it would be; loud, annoying, and full of people she couldn’t have cared less about. Even more people than expected too what with the upperclassmen invading. What a bunch of losers. Couldn’t they throw their own damn party and leave them alone? There were so many people in the house that she’d been looking for ages and still couldn’t find Master anywhere.
She pushed her way through the house. It was modest in size, with warm wood floors that creaked in places and charming old wallpaper. A scattering of family photos were dotted about the walls. Toko snorted at one of Naegi as a child with another, younger girl. She was hugging him tightly and smiling wide, much to Naegi’s chagrin. Toko moved down the hallway, past the stairs towards the next door. It was dark out now, but the overhead lights added a yellow tone to everything, so it was easy to forget. The hubbub of noise and music and yelling, even though Toko was reluctant to admit it, added to the warm, homely feel of the house. It was a home that was used to being filled with joy. The good feeling sank comfortably into the corners, snug next to the dust bunnies.
It wasn’t something Toko was really familiar with. It was the type of environment for a home she’d assumed was reserved strictly for dramas on television. It felt a bit uncomfortable to her, almost uncanny. Toko didn’t trust it one bit.
She didn’t even understand what Naegi thought he was going to get from this stupid party. Trust someone as naive as him to believe something like this was a good idea. Why the hell did they even need to bond as a class anyway? Toko couldn’t give less of a fuck about anyone in her class, and she was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. She’d seen this going downhill ever since she’d caught wind that the stupid upperclassmen were also coming along. This was too many people for one small house. She can’t imagine Naegi’s parents being okay with all of this. But she also could not imagine a goody-two-shoes like Naegi throwing a massive party like this behind his parents back. The image of him being told off warmed her heart a little bit.
She pushed into the kitchen, and instantly turned her nose up at the smell of alcohol. If she wasn’t certain about this whole thing being a terrible idea before, she definitely was now. Drunken teenagers and their loud, abrasive personalities all shoved together in a tiny space like this? It was almost enough to make her laugh. What was next? Someone getting too drunk and kissing the wrong person and breaking the heart of the person they really loved (because of course they’d see it) ending in a giant fight and feelings hurt and them storming out in a haze of drunken fury? How horribly cliche. If Toko ever read such a boring and overused plot in a book, she’d throw it at the wall for having the audacity to exist. This whole thing just stank of adolescence. It was almost obscene in its predictability.
Toko bit the hard skin at the edge of her thumb as anger bubbled within her chest. It was ridiculous. She and her Master were so above all of this childish banality. She can’t believe he agreed to debase himself by accepting such an invite. What the hell did Naegi promise him?
Her teeth tore through the toughened skin of her thumb. She hissed at the feeling of the air hitting her wound. She grumbled and sucked at the blood to stop it seeping.
A sudden, loud burst of laughter made her flinch. Naegi’s back door was open, the light from the kitchen pouring out into the small, hedged garden. The night wasn’t dark, the moon too full for that, but the light lit up the back garden in an inviting way.
What wasn’t so inviting was the stench of weed that choked her when she got just a bit too close to the door.
Fucking Hagakure.
She yelled out in disgust and slammed the door shut, blocking the smell from invading any further into the house. She heard a few exclamations from outside, but ignored them, and scurried off. No way Master would be caught dead hanging around that con artist on a normal day, forget when he’s smoking.
She opened the only other door in the kitchen, and found she’d looped her way back through into the living room. The music was louder now than when she’d first attempted to enter and promptly decided against it. She’d hoped she wouldn’t have to deal with the centre of the party. But there was nowhere else Master could be, and if she didn’t find Master, she at least wanted to find Naegi and give him a piece of her mind for having the gall to lie straight to her face.
She pushed deeper into the crowd of people. Asahina and Oogami were dancing with some girl with stupid looking spiky hair that was dyed way too many colours. Their shouts and giggles were loud and sweet, completely uncaring for how anyone else may be feeling about them taking up so much room and being so in-your-face about their stupid looking dancing.
She side-stepped to avoid an unwanted shoulder brush with someone, but her gangly limbs got tangled, one foot caught on the other, and she fell right into someone’s chest. She choked on the scent of cologne,
“A-Are you okay?”
She scrambled back, pushing herself away from the body and adjusting her glasses.
Oh, it was a boy.
One she didn’t know. He must’ve been an upperclassman. Toko was undecided on whether that made it better or worse. His wide, hazel eyes stared down at her in a way that was totally disarming. A faint redness in his face told her he’d definitely indulged one too many times in the alcohol in the kitchen. Typical that his actions would be as everyday as his face. Toko felt like she forgot what he looked like every time she blinked. How boring. Stupidly boring. He didn’t even dress to make up for how stupidly boring his dumb face was. Was he even trying? Actually, from the intense smell of his drugstore cologne, Toko guessed he actually probably was trying. That just made her even more angry. Men this pathetic just made her want to gag.
The only thing this guy would be good for is emphasising just how perfect her Master really was. Her Master shone brilliantly in every scenario, but when stood next to boring nobodies like this, Toko couldn’t help herself. She felt eternally more grateful that she could serve someone so effortlessly magnificent as Sir Togami.
Her thoughts quickly snapped back to the present when the guy’s face morphed into something disgusted,
“W-W-What? I-It’s n-not like I fell on purpose or anything!” Toko snapped, pushing herself to get away from the guy as quickly as possible. “J-Just say you’re disgusted that I touched you and go away already!”
His tone quickly shifted now he was caught. So predictable. His thick eyebrows bending with appalled confusion,
“I-I’m not disgusted I just wanted to know if you were oka-”
“S-Save it for someone who cares j-jackass!”
She ran away before he could taunt her any further. She can’t believe that guy really thought anything like that was happening between them. Not in a million years. Not if he was the last guy on Earth.
Whatever. She had more important things to focus on than some random nobody. She needed to find her Master, and fast. No doubt he was completely lost without her, surrounded by so many peasants who didn’t know their place.
Toko wished for a second it was her Master’s chest she had fallen into instead. That she could’ve glanced up at him, eyes wide and innocent, and stuttered an apology. He would’ve grabbed her chin between his long, elegant fingers, and thrust her head up, so she could lock eyes with him. He’d look down on her, and she’d shiver at the hard, imposing look in his eye as he commanded her to shut up, before wrapping his arms around her, surrounding her in the scent of his expensive, delicate cologne. He’d hold her close, right where she belonged, between his arms.
Toko shook herself out of her daydream, hugging herself against the feeling that rushed through her. She wiped her mouth dry of drool and kept pushing through the crowd. But it was for nothing. Everyone was too tall to see over or too loud that they grated her enough she just escaped once more into the muffled quiet of the hallway. She diverted upstairs, convincing herself that he could be up here invading Naegi’s privacy. But really, it was just to avoid the noise. It was quieter again up here. It eased the pounding in her head to something bearable.
Away from all the bodies, it was cooler up here too. The outfit she’d worn she’d both put too much thought into, and too little. A confusing mix of not caring about any of the morons at this party, but also being just a little, teeny bit excited at the fact that she’d gotten invited to a party in the first place (not that she’d admit that to anyone) and wanting to prove these bastards wrong by showing up looking good for once, especially considering the fact that Master was going to be here. She wanted to make a good impression, but really, really didn’t want people to think she actually cared. Not that she did, because she didn’t. The long, brown skirt she’d worn was only different to her uniform one in its shade and texture, and she could take off the old, frumpy cardigan she was wearing over her long sleeve shirt, but with how stressed out she’s been with all these people around and how warm it was, she didn’t need to look to know that she was sporting two, worryingly large sweat patches. Plus, it was a little comforting to wear. In just a thin shirt, she would feel almost naked. There was only one person she wanted to be naked around, and it definitely wasn’t in a situation like this.
Toko slumped down to crouch by a wall and groaned into her hands. How the hell did anyone enjoy this bullshit? She almost contented herself to just hiding up here away from everyone, then a creak sounded in one of the rooms, followed by footsteps, and Toko was halfway down the stairs before the thought had even fully formed.
She really didn’t want to go back into that loud, rowdy, overly crowded living room. But it was looking like it was her only choice. One more look. If she couldn’t find her Master or Naegi, she’d lock herself in the bathroom and not come out no matter what.
Fortunately for everyone else, it didn’t seem like she’d need to employ that tactic. She entered the living room, and between a short gap in the bodies around her, she caught sight of a tuft of soft, brown hair.
“N-Naegi! You f-fluffy haired freak.”
Naegi froze, his shoulders twitching up with surprise, before they slumped, and he turned around.
“Oh, hi Fukawa.” He replied weakly. His smile was just as fake, hardly even there. The pathetic, apologetic way his eyebrows curled only spiked her annoyance higher.
“I’d call you a worm but I respect bugs more. Bugs understand me a lot more than someone like you.”
Naegi’s eye twitched, then he sighed, “Well at least someone understands you, right?”
Toko spluttered, grabbing her braids anxiously, “A-Are you making fun of me?!”
“Fukawa, to what do we owe the pleasure?”
Sat on the sofa, taking up the entire thing with her obnoxiously poofy skirt was Celestia Ludenburg. She tilted her head with the question, and Toko was surprised she didn’t fall over completely with the weight of her large, ugly, oily black twin tails. The smile on her overly painted face made her look everything like a haunted china doll left to catch dust in a charity shop. Her tone, oh-so pleasant and polite, still somehow managed to irritate Toko like a cheese grater to her skin. The obscene amount of lace and twinkling jewels she wore made it obvious she really believed she was better than everyone else, and especially better than Toko.
“I-I wasn’t speaking to you, you cheap Wednesday Adams knockoff!”
Anger flashed in her face, its perfect veneer cracking as she growled, “You-” Then, she caught herself, and it was gone. Celestia took a moment to breathe, eyes closed, before she sighed, “Fukawa, we were in the middle of something.”
“L-Like I care!”
Naegi pushed himself back into her line of sight, laughing despite the tension he so obviously felt, “Come on, why don’t you join in! Look you can pair up with Celeste-”
“No.” Celestia’s stern reply stomped his good faith into the ground. She took a delicate sip of her tea, and that was that.
Toko couldn’t agree more. So, she didn’t argue. Naegi however, looked defeated.
“I don’t mind being your game partner, Miss Fukawa!” A voice spoke chipperly.
Toko hadn’t even taken in the boy sitting on the sofa opposite Celestia. She didn’t recognise him either, meaning he also was an upperclassman. This upperclassman was not nearly as boring and plain looking as the last one she’d fallen into. His scraggly hair hung in messy, tangled waves, its colour the same deathly pale as his skin. His face was slender, and a bit too thin to be healthy, but still somehow youthful enough that she was able to overlook it. Toko suddenly pictured vampires, and crudely wondered if he’d glitter in the sun or burn. She wasn’t entirely sure which one she’d prefer to see. His pale eyelashes were longer than hers, and that pissed her off more than anything else. The black outfit he wore emphasised his pale, thin physique, the old black t-shirt he was wearing paraded the faded logo of some band Toko bet was pretentious and overhyped. Even so, it added to the sense of mystery he gave off. All that paired with his soft, polite tone, made everything about him seem innocuous. Yet somehow something about that word didn’t sit right when paired with him. There was something about him that made Toko feel on edge.
Somewhere, deep inside her, she thought she heard a girl purr.
She backed away a bit, hating how timid her voice suddenly became, “W-Who the hell are you?”
He smiled gracefully, “Oh, my apologies! How rude. I am Nagito Komaeda.” He made the effort to bow, even though he was sitting, “Not that my name is of any importance to someone as esteemed as you, Miss Fukawa! I’m honoured to be in the presence of such a wonderful wordsmith!”
Toko nervously fiddled with her braids, tugging at them and stepping further away, feeling weaker and weaker the longer she spoke to the boy. She felt slightly boxed in, and her breathing matched the image, wet and heavy. She ignored the feeling as best she could, made her voice harsher to compensate,
“...What the hell? D-Do you really think I’m that gullible? Y-You think I’d believe some guy like you would like my books?!”
He lifted his hands pleadingly, his pleasant, excitable smile never once losing power,
“Oh no, I don’t like your books, I love your writing, Miss Fukawa!” He gently tucked his hands between his stick-thin thighs and laughed, “I know it’s quite unpopular, but ‘The Sparrow Flies South for The Winter’ was a personal favourite of mine. I can’t count the number of times I’ve read it.”
The title hit her like a punch. Out of all the novels she expected him to name, that one was not even close to the top 10. An obscure, and abstract piece she’d done back when she had been experimenting a bit with her style. It hadn’t performed as well as her other works, but to some it was considered a cult classic. Though her mental state was never something she really considered being ‘well’, it was something she’d written when she’d been particularly low. Right around when she’d started to notice the black outs in her memory happening more often. When she’d hear people talking about conversations that they’d had that she couldn’t remember. How she acted weird, said offensive things, things she’d never even think to say out loud. It was scary. It still was, but at the start, it had been worse. A few of the books she’d written at that time had been poisoned by those feelings. That one took the brunt of it.
“Y-You…” She could feel everyone’s eyes on her like slimy weights. The sweat she was developing didn’t help with the feeling. “E-Empty flattery will get you nowhere, you know!” She hated the way her face burned, “So what if you have good taste in literature? T-That’s just b-basic human decency!”
Naegi whistled, eyes wide as he all but gawked at the boy, “Wow, Komaeda, you’re really impressive!” The boy’s smile turned kinder, and he quickly stumbled over a rush of modest refusals of Naegi’s light praise. Naegi shook his head, and took it in stride, turning his smile instead back to her, “Come on Fukawa, play a game of cards with us.”
Suddenly, Toko remembered why she was here in the first place, “N-No!” She yelled, clenching her hands into fists, “You told me Master would be here. Where is he?!”
Naegi’s large eyes somehow got wider, and his smile dropped,
“Togami…is-” He scratched his head, looked around, then shrugged quickly and said in a panicked rush, “Uh, why don’t you just wait here? He’ll probably show up at some point to say something condescending towards me.”
Naegi’s weak, stuttering laughter made Toko’s lip curl even further. Naegi was a horrific liar. Toko was furious.
Before she could voice her frustrations, Celestia barked,
“Or go wait anywhere else.” Her eyes, red like an albino lab rat, were harsh, “You’re interrupting us. Either sit quietly like the dog you are or leave.”
“B-Bitch-”
The pale boy suddenly perked up, “Oh, isn’t that the Togami heir over there?”
Naegi’s shoulders hit his ears, “Komaeda-”
Toko whipped around, her pigtails whacking against her. Her eyes scoured the area Komaeda had been looking, then she saw him, and her heart sped into double time,
“M-Master!”
Master stopped in his tracks, his eyes turning cold behind his glasses, “Oh great.”
Master cut through the crowd as smoothly and gracefully as a knight's sword through the throat of a vicious dragon. Even in this penurious and destitute environment, he shone brilliantly. His hair, each strand like finely strung gold, had a strong yet modest shine in the comforting light, its colour lovingly catching each change and flash that oscillated from the Christmas lights hap-hazardly strung along the walls of the living room. The thin slant of his nose paired perfectly with the pointed curve of his eyes so that it was near effortless for him to rightfully look down upon the spawn that flocked around him. The crisp tailoring of his suit hugged his thin body perfectly, the elegant craftsmanship making him stand out even further from the sea of grey faces that muddled about him. Toko would swear he glowed heavenly. That even now, over the crass sounding music bumping over the litany of drab conversation, angels sang. His blue, icy gaze pierced her, as the arrow of Eros pierces the hearts of worthy lovers. Toko felt the sharp pang of its penetration, and swooned.
“Sorry Togami…” Naegi groaned, pathetic as a wet piece of cardboard.
“Oh, have I done something wrong?” Komaeda questioned, his head tilting in confusion as he looked between the group for answers.
Naegi rubbed his neck and sighed, “...Don’t worry about it.”
Something about him, underneath the politeness, became subdued, “Hinata always says I don’t read the room properly…”
“Someone more annoying and pathetic than her. As if it couldn’t get worse.”
Master commanded that Komaeda moved over, and he obeyed. Master placed himself upon the sofa, arms folded, and legs crossed at the knee, a commanding and poised king. He deserved a throne. Toko wished he’d asked her to go on her knees so he could sit on her back, instead of debasing himself by using such unsuitable seating.
“At least he’s actually good at cards.” Celestia mumbled, and Master huffed in humorous agreement. Toko bit at her already wounded thumb, and blood dribbled into her mouth.
Komaeda sparkled, eyes bright and starry as he reverently lauded Celestia’s extremely minimal praise, “Thank you Miss Lundenburg! To receive such praise from someone like you- I am completely unworthy!”
Celestia smiled sweetly over the rim of the mug she was drinking from, her back slightly straighter than it had been, “More polite than any of you, too.”
Komaeda suddenly gasped in realisation. It commanded everyone’s attention, “With Master Togami, we have enough for a circuit!” He placed a thin hand over his heart and bowed his head, “Miss Ludenburg,” He started. Celestia raised an eyebrow, “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to keep testing the scope of your talent. One lucky student against your talent is a measly test for someone of your calibre, especially with luck as inadequate as my own. But two lucks against one, plus the power of two other brilliant Ultimates like Miss Fukawa and Master Togami, that is a test much more suited for you than someone like me could provide alone.” He looked up at her, through his pale eyelashes, between curling, white twines of his hair that had fallen in front of his face. Suddenly, his smile seemed sharper than before, his voice taking on a slightly darker tone, “What do you say? Are you up for the challenge?”
The cut Toko had bitten into her thumb widened.
Celestia hummed, a sharp, fake fingernail gently tapping her powdered white chin, “A game of cards against the power of two lucky students.” Then, she smirked, her hands poised delicately under her face, “I’m willing to put my bets on it.”
Komaeda’s smile stretched, “How exciting.” he whispered, slightly breathless.
“Ugh!” Toko spat in disgust, “Why don’t you just m-make out in front of us on top of it?! R-Really just sh-shove it in our faces!”
Her outburst shocked the two of them back into the room.
“M-Make out?” He said it like a foreign word, his face aghast. He looked at Celestia, then when he found no help, he looked to the floor, “I’m…Not sure I understand-”
“Have freaky, goth, bondage sex and make some f-fucked up, lucky babies or something and l-leave us out of it!” Toko giggled wetly enough that she choked on the spit that had gathered in her mouth. Hands fiddling in front of her, her smile curled meanly, “Y-You look like the type. I b-bet you’d love a girl to make you a slave in the bedroom.”
Naegi gasped; his cheeks red as he let out a shout of protest at her words. She just continued to laugh. Komaeda’s face drained of its colour, which was impressive considering there wasn’t much there in the first place.
“H-How grotesque...” he murmured, staring blankly through the tabletop that sat between him and Celestia. Toko snorted as she laughed.
Master grumbled in disgust and adjusted his glasses. She swallowed harshly and her laughter stopped.
Celestia put down her mug with a sharp noise, distinguishable even over the bass bouncing off the walls of the room. But even that wasn’t enough to knock Komaeda’s thousand-yard stare. She folded her hands in her lap, and sighed roughly,
“Fukawa, you are a sad, pathetic young woman, and I feel sorry for you.” Celestia brushed out her skirt, her face sitting in a perfectly calm expression, the particular curve of her thin, painted eyebrows poised somewhere between ‘aloof’ and ‘alarm’, “And it’s a shame, because if it wasn’t for your godawful personality paired with your complete lack of social awareness and your apparent inability to conceive of the mere existence of the modern miracle that is soap, I’d think you were a classy, intelligent woman that would be worthy of sitting at the same table as myself.” She sighed once more, a delicate thing filled with demure disappointment, “How unfortunate that I know you personally and not just through your writing.”
Master’s laughter, full bodied and mean in response to Celestia’s attack, cut her harsher than anything Celestia could have thrown at her. Shame curdled in her gut. She clenched her teeth and tried her hardest to make Celestia’s stupid tiny head explode with just the strength of her glare.
Komaeda, on the other hand, was still hung up on the ‘lucky babies’ comment and was muttering the phrase to himself like a Lovecraftian protagonist attempting to comprehend the incomprehensible.
“A-Anyway…” He swallowed, placing a hand to his forehead. He shook his head, gathering himself, then his polite, bright smile returned. He titled his head curiously, as his smile squinted his eyes, “Miss Fukawa, what do you say? You could put your relationship with Master Togami up to the test.”
“Stop that. Now. One of you is enough.” Master ordered simply, his hand gripping into the bicep it rested on. Komaeda just laughed in response. Master rolled his eyes, adjusted his glasses, then announced, “I’ll play, but I don’t need her help.”
“M-Master has enough skill to beat any of you all on his own, U-Ultimate or not.” Toko agreed fervently.
“Ah! What a bold statement!” Komaeda gasped joyously, “Your belief in Togami is amazing, Miss Fukawa! How exciting! This is perfect! Ah-” He stopped short, a shaking hand covering his toothy grin from view, but Toko wasn’t sure if they’d always been shaking like that anyway. His eyes went unfocused for a second, and that feeling she got earlier, that uncanny feeling he brewed in her gut bubbled up once more. “H-How fun! This is so fun!” His childish joy, the look in his eyes, like a rabid dog on a leash, didn’t help with the feeling. But before she could really make sense of it, it was gone. He giggled like a kid, then held up the pack of cards, “Let’s play!”
Weird. Really fucking weird.
But Master didn’t seem to have a problem with it, and he was so focused on the rambling Komaeda was smothering the five of them with that he didn’t shout at her when she knelt on the ground at his feet. She wanted to lean her head on his knee, or hug an arm around his shin, but she knew better than to touch him. She sat and watched quietly, and maybe it was a bit boring, but it was what a perfect wife would do. The wife Master deserved was subservient, seen and not heard, and wholly supportive in every endeavour Master may entertain. She may have a horrific personality, and her looks may be even worse than that, but if she could just prove her worth in the eyes of her Master, if he could see the truth beneath her ugly exterior, if he could just choose her, that would be enough.
Naegi and Komaeda combined were actually a force to be reckoned with. But despite what Toko had assumed, Celestia wasn’t taking losing all that badly. In fact, she actually seemed to be having fun. That still wasn’t as annoying to see as Naegi and this new weird guy get along so happily. Naegi was a chipper, bright sunspot on the best of days. This guy just seemed to make him shine even brighter. Toko’s eyesight was already messed up enough without the cornea bleaching watching the two of them playing with Celestia was giving her. Even still, something about the whole thing gave her the heebie-jeebies, and it wasn’t just seeing Celestia genuinely happy. Toko couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about the stranger didn’t sit right with her.
Whatever it was, no one else seemed to notice it. Even Master seemed to be getting along with him. They’d been passing underhand comments at each other over their cards every other time Toko looked at them. Toko chewed the inside of her lip as Master smirked at a particularly clever comment the stranger cooly whispered to him.
Between rounds, Asahina came over and dragged Naegi away, ignoring his protests and subsequent apologies towards their group. Toko sucked her teeth, annoyed at her rudeness. Master had been just about to play against him, and now because of that stupid mer-brained bitch it was ruined.
The shake up in the dynamic didn’t seem to faze Komaeda all that much. He simply took it as an opportunity to begin grilling Celestia about everything that happened to her from birth to present day. For what reason, Toko couldn’t discern. He seemed to already know everything she was telling him anyway. Maybe this was his pathetic way of flirting. How sad.
Celestia revealed her ridiculously corny dream of living in a Gothic castle filled with vampire servants. Komaeda sparkled at the revelation. If Komaeda was as lucky as he said he was, maybe Celestia would hire him. Toko snorted at her own joke. She repeated it to Master, who sighed, and continued checking his cuticles, but a lot more sternly now. She tugged at her braid nervously as they continued to talk over her head.
“Then, why not just play the lottery?” Komaeda asked, “Surely with your talent you could win an earth-shattering amount of money.”
“Of course I’ve tried the lottery, I’m not dull.” Celestia took a moment to sip her tea. Toko sneered. It had been sitting there for so long, there was no way it hadn’t gone cold by now. Why the fuck did she insist to keep drinking that overly sweet bullshit? It was a disgrace to tea. For someone so apparently refined she didn’t seem to care about refined sensibilities all that much. It just made Toko even more annoyed. Ignorant to Toko’s anger, she cradled the cup in her lap, and continued, “Though my natural born luck is high, it’s not as pure as yours or Naegi’s. My talent lies in gambling, and while luck is a very key component in that, the stakes are much too low in comparison to the reward in something like the lottery for it to really be considered gambling. Not the type of gambling I succeed in, anyway. It’s too easy. Any random chump could win the lottery.”
Komaeda hummed in agreement, then clicked his fingers and chuckled brightly, “Ah, perhaps instead you could marry rich!”
Toko’s heckles instantly rose, and despite herself she clutched Master’s trousers defensively.
“Hm, that would require me meeting someone above an A-rank. I do not see that happening anytime soon.” Celestia huffed, “The only men I want in my castle are ones that will be subservient to me. A husband would just be a bother.”
“G-Good, because Master is all mine.” Toko gurgled, snuggling closer into her Master’s trouser leg.
Or she did for as long as she could, before her Master roughly kicked her away.
“You’re delusional.” Master said coldly.
Komaeda leaned forwards to make eye contact with her. Though it was a pointless exercise. The moment their eyes met she quickly looked away.
“Miss Fukawa, are you and Togami engaged?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but Master beat her to it.
“Absolutely not.” He growled, his shoulders rising to meet his ears.
Toko adjusted her glasses, “W-Well, not yet. But it’s only a matter of time! I could be the perfect wife for Master-”
“How?” Master snapped, glaring down at her, “What experience do you even have to say that, outside of those sickeningly sweet fantasies you write about?”
Toko gaped for a moment, hoping a response would come to her. It didn’t. She tightened her lips and looked away.
Master laughed as her shoulders curled inwards, “That’s what I thought. You’re embarrassing.”
“Woah, Togami you’re a pretty mean guy, eh?” Komaeda said, surprise stretching his tone to something bordering condescension.
“And?”
Toko got up to her knees so she could look at Master better, “W-Why would I need experience?! I-I’m saving myself for you!”
Master barked a laugh, “Saving yourself, that’s rich. I bet you couldn’t get someone to even just kiss you, let alone anything else.”
“Ah…Is that perhaps a challenge?”
Her head snapped to Komaeda. He was sitting so politely, the comment dropped so innocently, that Toko honestly believed for a second she may have just made it up. But the smile on his face, that cunning look in his eye as he looked between the two of them. Toko felt spiders scurry up her spine.
“W-Why are you getting involved?!” She yelled, shuffling further away from Komaeda, “Who even are you?!”
Komaeda raised his hands apologetically, “Sorry, sorry. You’re right, someone like me should probably just mind my business. But,” There was a gleam in his eyes, as undeniable as the shady smile that stretched his face, “…Am I wrong?”
She wanted to disagree. Every internal instinct in her was telling her to stop this guy while he was ahead.
But she didn’t. Despite the feeling in her gut, she was never going to let someone deny her love and commitment to her Master. Especially not some random pretty-boy weirdo she’d never met before.
“L-Like it would be a challenge!” She snapped, arms folded, chest puffed with false confidence, “I-I could do anything, if it was for my Master.”
“Okay, sure.” Master snorted, then uncrossed his legs, his foot slamming down onto the floor beside her, startling her. He leant down on his knees and looked directly at her, “Fukawa, if you manage to get someone to kiss you within this lifetime, I’ll marry you.”
Her heart stopped. The leftover blood rushed up and out of it before it too froze in her veins. Her spirit tripped on its own shoelace. Master’s words reverberated in her head, until the rest of the party dulled out, until it almost vanished, and all that was left was her and him. Her and him, standing at the edge of infinity, as he held out his hand towards her with a promise sitting curled in his palm.
“Wh-What?” Her voice was soft, until it managed to get back its footing, “A-Are you serious?”
“Ah! How extraordinary!” Komaeda gasped, but she couldn’t have cared less. She stared, more enamoured than ever at her Master. His sharp eyes avoided her. Feeling shy, perhaps? Or, at least, she wanted him to be. Shy at the prospect of having proclaimed such a genuine confession of their love in front of these pigeons.
Celestia hummed, “My interest is piqued. I’m in.”
“Oh! Me too!” Komaeda replied, the playful bounce in his tone matching the way he jumped in his seat, a hand in the air excitedly calling attention to himself.
Toko bared her teeth, sick of these pests feeling like they had any right to interfere with their relationship, like they could so easily make fun of her without consequence.
“This has nothing to do with you two freaks!” She screamed, but no one seemed affected.
“Ah, don’t misunderstand me,” Komaeda pleaded, hands waving as if fanning her flames, “I’m betting in your favour, Miss Fukawa!”
“Wh-What?!”
“I believe with all my heart in your devotion to Togami, Miss Fukawa.” Komaeda boasted, gesturing a bit too wildly, “I want to see the power of your devotion. Such a splendid display of hope it would be! I want to help you reach it!”
Celestia hummed, her finger tapping against the edge of her mug, “Hm, even if I agree with the outcome, I can’t agree with your process.”
Toko gaped at the goth sitting across from her, “Wait, you’re betting on me too?!”
Celestia shrugged a single shoulder, “Where’s the fun in an easy win?” Her tone was reserved, but that quickly fell aside, a hook in her eyes that made Toko feel antsy, “Let’s put a number on this.”
“Seriously?!”
“¥500,000” Master’s answer came all too easily.
Toko snapped her head to look at her Master, searching for a sign that he was joking. She couldn’t find one. His face was impassive, serious, the closest thing to humour was the predatory curl of his smirk.
It didn’t faze Celestia. She’d already been sitting up with perfect posture, but she managed to sit taller, her own small, painted smile turning cunning in a way that totally took away from the pretty and passive appearance she otherwise presented. Celestia laughed a trilling giggle, and Toko found herself getting a cold chill, even though it was more than stuffy in the small, overcrowded living room they huddled in.
“What the hell! I don’t have that kind of money?! What happens if I lose?” Toko looked between the three of them, feeling like she had to be the only sane person in the conversation. It was a novel feeling, at least.
“Oh, so you acknowledge that this is a ridiculous conversation and there’s no way you can or will actually do this.” Master replied coolly, his pale, perfectly curved eyebrows raised defiantly.
The comment gave Toko pause. It was a test. It had to be.
“No! I can do it. I’ll do anything to prove myself to you, Master!”
Master shrugged, “Then money shouldn’t be a problem.”
No problem at all. Or at least, there should be no problem that she couldn’t overcome to prove her devotion to her Master. What would money even mean to her, if he stuck to his word (which he would. Master was honourable, good, and worthy as a man should be) she would finally be happy. Finally, she could be completed. It was all she wanted in the world.
What was ¥500,000, in comparison to everything she’d ever dreamed of? Her teeth worried her lip.
Not that she would have to pay, anyway. Of course. It was worry over nothing. There was no way she was going to mess this up, not this time.
Her quiet thinking must have been misinterpreted, because Komaeda suddenly piped up,
“I can pay for you.”
Toko was shocked out of her thinking, “...What?”
Komaeda shrugged an uncaring shoulder, “I’ll pay both our debts if you lose.”
Toko waited for a punchline that never came. “That’s…That’s insanity!” She squealed, “No way you have that kind of money.”
“What can I say? My belief in your hope is just that strong.” His face suddenly brightened, “So, don’t let me down!” He laughed cheerfully, but to Toko it felt like a tomato to the face. “Now, who should our target be…”
“Good Lord.” Master mumbled tiredly, switching the legs he crossed over.
Komaeda was staunchly unperturbed by Master, an intense look of deep thought on his face despite his comments, “It should be someone you know, so maybe someone at this party.”
“I thought you wanted her to win this? Choosing someone who already knows Fukawa would make it impossible.” Master chortled.
She giggled wetly at her Master’s words, fiddling with her fingers in front of her shyly. He actually paid attention to her? Enough to know how others would perceive her. Something about it made her proud. If Master knew that much, he must have at least noticed her devotion towards him. Her heart fluttered at the thought. Did her Master get possessive at the thought of someone else with her? She hoped he would. The thought made her all warm and tingly inside.
“Hm, you’re quite right.” Celestia agreed, “If it was someone from our class, they’d instantly smell a rat. Plus, they’re all much too involved with each other for any of them to be appropriate.”
Toko growled at that. But, she supposed, despite how it felt, she couldn’t really argue with it. Not just that, but the last thing she wanted to do was kiss any of the hateful bastards she regretfully shared a class with.
Komaeda hummed as he thought, “Hmm, now that I think about it, it's much the same for my class too…I’d suggest myself, but it would be a conflict of interests.” Toko felt so much relief she felt her soul almost detach from her body, “Anyway, I wouldn’t want to put you through something so ghastly, even for the sake of hope.” Suddenly, a revelation, “Ah! What about Souda?”
Any relief she previously felt swiftly smashed into horror,
“T-That smelly, greasy mechanic?!” She squawked, “I’d rather drown in horse shit!”
Komaeda actually seemed hurt, “Huh? What do you mean? I thought Souda was a catch! He’s a great guy, a loyal friend, and his talent is so helpful and inspiring. Really manly! He’s a great option!”
“Absolutely not.” Toko hissed, fisting the fabric of her skirt.
“I thought you’d do anything for me?”
Master’s snide reply pulled sickness into her stomach. Her brain betrayed her, revealing to her the dreaded image of her having to mix spit with someone so detestable. God knows where his mouth had been, and that was coming from her! Even just a simple, quick peck made her feel like a slug was sucking up the unhealthy bend of her spine.
But Master seemed serious, and as the silence stretched and no other option provided itself, it seemed more and more likely that the horrid fantasy she’d conjured up may just have to become a reality.
She scrambled. Stuttering and fumbling over her words. There had to be another option. Someone else. Anyone else-
“What about Mr. Naegi’s sister?”
Perched quietly next to Celestia, tucked away the other side of the sofa, was Hifumi Yamada. Toko wasn’t sure how she hadn’t seen him yet, considering how completely massive he was. It wasn’t like he was even well hidden behind the arm of the sofa. His greasy hair shined in the low light, slicked close to his scalp, and it made Toko’s lip curl. He was glancing between everyone with an unsure expression. It seemed it wasn’t just Toko who hadn’t realised he was there. The only one who didn’t seem phased was Celestia.
“Yamada? Where the hell did you come from?!”
The boy spluttered violently, adjusting his glasses and puffing his cheeks, “I’ve been here the whole time!” He squealed, “I’ve been speaking to you! Weren’t you listening?!”
Toko ignored his pointless questions, “Who the hell even-?”
“She’s over there.” Toko fought back the snap of annoyance that shot through her at his interruption, “The girl with the bob talking to Miss Asahina.” She twisted her mouth, then stubbornly followed where his finger was pointing.
Across the way, squeezed between Asahina, Naegi and some ridiculous looking upperclassmen she couldn’t care less about, was a girl.
She was completely average in every way. Average height, average build, well, except her chest, but even then, Toko had seen bigger. Her clothes were simple, just a graphic t-shirt tucked into some straight leg jeans, cuffed at the hem. Toko would bet she only bought the outfit because the mannequin in the shop was styled with it already. She seemed to be struggling to keep up with the energy of the conversation, but in a contented sort of way, just happy to be part of it, letting her brother take the lead. Her hair was the only thing not average about her, but even that was minimal. Such a short bob cut to her chin, Toko was willing to bet that to someone like her, a style like that was ‘daring’. Toko couldn’t agree less. In fact, the longer she stared at the girl, the more annoyed she seemed to get. She laughed at something her brother said, but the only reason Toko knew was because she smiled. She didn’t hear her laugh, not over the noise. It blended in. Just like the rest of her. Someone moved, and Toko tuned back into the conversation as her view of the girl was blocked.
“...She’s bought manga off my sister before.”
Toko’s head snapped towards Yamada as she went cold, “A fucking otaku?!”
Suddenly, the idea of that dirty, oily mechanic seemed not so bad.
“HA! Hardly!” Yamada pushed his glasses up his wide, flat nose and snorted, his voice taking on a pompous, fake regal tone, “She doesn't put in nearly half enough of the effort to be labelled such a prestigious title!”
“I’m not kissing some low-life degenerate who genuinely likes manga.”
“No, this is perfect!” Komaeda gasped, clasping his hands joyously.
“Oh yeah, completely perfect, yeah, except one, tiny problem.” Komaeda tilted his head in question. Toko felt the metaphysical steam shooting out her ears, heard the whistling in its wake, and as she stated the very fucking obvious, “I’M NOT GAY!”
Komaeda stared at her, nonplussed. His head still tilted, like a stupid mutt. His wide eyed, piercing stare seemed all knowing, and carved through her in the most intrusive way. But she swallowed down the invasive feeling and held her ground. Shakily, but held all the same. In the end, he was the first to break eye contact, as his eyes gently closed, and he laughed quietly to himself.
Togami shouted a cackle, loud and cutting enough that it pulled her attention completely away from whatever the hell Komaeda thought was so fucking funny,
“Oh, this is hilarious. No, Komaeda is right, this is perfect.” Master sat forwards, getting up in her face. Heat flooded her, and she fought the ridiculous urge to lean away. For a short moment, Toko actually felt blessed. “I changed my conditions.” Master started, “Fukawa, if you can get Naegi’s sister to kiss you, I’ll marry you the same day and pay your supporters.”
“M-Master!”
Master leaned back, fixing his glasses, “A proper kiss too. No girly peck on the cheek. Full blown make out or nothing.”
Toko didn’t want to argue with her Master, but surely even he could see this was too much.
“B-But-”
Master gave an uncaring shrug, “It’s her or Souda.”
She played with one of her braids and tried her best to ignore the weight of everyone’s expectant stares on her.
She adjusted her glasses, and looked up at her Master through her lashes,
“…You promise?”
Togami held out his hands, as if putting the onus on her, before folding his arms once more.
What was one, stupid kiss with some stupid girl compared to everything she ever wanted?
Boys liked it when girls kissed, right? Maybe Master found the idea sexy. Maybe it’d be embarrassing, but if it made Master happy, if it meant he’d finally love her…
Toko closed her eyes, steeled her nerves, and said, “Fine. I-I’ll do it!
Komaeda clapped his hands with excited finality, “Perfect! Now all we need is to figure out her relationship status and-“
“Figure out whose relationship status?” Everyone snapped into silence as Naegi meandered around, before finally leaning on the back of the sofa between Komaeda and Master. He searched the faces staring tensely back at him for answers, before his eyes brightened, “Woah, wait, Komaeda, are you gunning for someone?” He said with a disbelieving laugh, giving Komaeda a friendly push.
“Ah! No, not me, your - Ow!” Suddenly, Komaeda flinched and pulled his knee up to his chest, smoothing a hand over his shin and pouting at Celestia. “That really hurt…” he whined.
“Don’t be shy Komaeda.” Celestia said through gritted teeth, before relaxing slightly, “We were discussing the elusive ‘Hinata’, of course.” Celestia lied smoothly. Toko raised an eyebrow at the way Komaeda was stunned to stillness at the mention of that name.
Naegi, however, was none the wiser. “Oh! I would’ve thought you’d know something like that by now, Komaeda. You two seem like you’re really close.”
Komaeda picked at a stray thread running out from the hem of his shirt. “Of course I know Hinata’s relationship status. He’s deeply adored by all. Without even trying. To adore Hinata isn’t anything special at all…”
Celestia chuckled behind her hand, “Seems we’ve unearthed kryptonite.”
Komaeda’s pout got deeper. He folded his arms and leaned back into the sofa.
Toko didn’t care about any of this.
“Whatever.” She grumbled, before getting up. If she was going to do this, she needed to do it as soon as possible.
“Oh, Fukawa, let me assist you-!”
Toko whipped around. Komaeda was halfway to his feet before Toko snapped,
“S-Save it, Prince Lestat. I don’t need your help.” She curled over, hugging her hands close to her chest, “I can p-prove myself to Master on my own.”
Master cackled, and the sound of it gave her a slight boost in confidence. Komaeda paused, hovering for a moment as he seemed to mull over whether he wanted to take what she’d said as an insult or not. Toko wasn’t about to stick around and see what decision he landed on. She turned, and pushed through the crowd, away from that plotting group of assholes behind her and towards probably the worst decision of her life.
“Another round?” Master suggested, and the resounding sound of agreement between them all was the last thing Toko heard before the party swallowed her whole.
Notes:
I'll post updates whenever they're done. I'm slow, so it'll probably take me about a month(+) to write each one. I've got a few of the first chapters written up already, but I'll try to stagger posting them to not make the breaks between chapters terribly long (if I can help it).
Hope u enjoy tokomaru fans!! I'm excited to show u what i have planned (^^)7
Chapter 2
Notes:
chapter 2! *jumps and punches the air*
A fore-warning I suppose that I forgot to put in the first chapter. It wont come up yet, but I'll be writing Syo as she appears within the series, and not as an actual accurate representation of DID. Idk if that's something people feel particularly strongly over one way or another, but I thought I'd get it out of the way way before she actually shows up. Just to prepare expectations I suppose??? *sweats*
Our girls meet ! Sparks fly! Or they try to.
Songs for this chapter:
> Here : Alessia Cara
> Muzzle : Destroy Boys
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Toko really did believe that she could do anything for her Master. It was the only thing she was confident in other than her writing. Her love for her Master was pure and that love could overcome all obstacles.
This, however, was going to test the limits of that devotion.
She didn’t like to think of herself as a coward, but that didn’t really change the reality that she was one. In social situations like this, with girls as annoying as these, Toko couldn’t help the nervousness that gripped her. Standing on the edge of this group of loud, energetic, pretty girls, her past disrupted her. Flooded over her like a bucket of pig’s blood, sticky and viscous, but still not as bad as the feeling of everyone pointing at her and laughing.
She groaned, gripping at her head as if it could stop the onslaught of memories she’d rather forget that twisted her chest, each one like a physical stab in the heart that was harsh enough to make her flinch. For a moment, she wondered if all of this was really worth it.
But only for a moment. Of course it was worth it. Anything to prove herself to her Master. Anything so he’d finally see her as worthy. She didn’t care if it hurt.
“Peeking…”
Toko yelped an ugly cry and stumbled away. She snapped around to the person who’d frightened her. Of course, it was the most annoying and loud and energetic of all of them that had pulled that sick joke. She wore way too much eyeliner, like she was attempting to make some sort of statement about something. Like anyone cared what she thought. If you’re going to defy the status quo, shouldn’t you stop caring so much about making it everyone else’s problem to deal with? Who the fuck needed hair that big and spikey? Someone like her, her exact antithesis, would be the first to try and make a fool out of Toko.
“What the fuck?!” Toko yelled,
“What the fuck?!” the girl yelled, grabbing her head dramatically.
Toko spluttered, “Why are you shocked?! You came up to me!”
“Why are you shocked?! You came up to me!” The girl spluttered back.
“Are you seriously copying me?! How old are you?”
“Are you seriously copying me?! How old are you?”
“Mioda, just ignore her.” Asahina interjected, a bored lit in her tone that told Toko she was already done with dealing with the situation. It cracked the anxiety that had filled her stomach beforehand into hot coals of anger that she grit into dust between her teeth. Of course, a useless water flea like her would dismiss her without even a second thought.
Before she could speak her mind and tell Asahina where she could shove it, the girl with the stupid, spikey hair piped up once more.
“No can do, sister! Ibuki can’t ignore it when someone is obviously trying to get involved in a conversation!” Before she could stop it, the girl was jabbing her hands into her back, pushing her further forwards into the small circle of girls she’d been lurking behind, halting Asahina’s protests and chanting, “Join our circle! Join! Join! Join!”
Under Mioda’s pushing, Toko tumbled into the small circle the girls had carved for themselves in the middle of everyone else. Toko steadied her stance, straightened her glasses, and curled her shoulders protectively with a frustrated grumble, like it could make her less of an eyesore. Not that she cared about bothering girls like this. She just couldn’t be arsed to deal with the fallout when she inevitably did. Plus, it was kind of hard to stand with a straight back when your chest was as tight with anxiety as hers was in that moment.
Naegi’s sister smiled a bit hesitantly, her eyes raking over her. Toko resisted the urge to shy away from her judgement. Naegi’s sister leaned into Asahina slightly and asked,
“Who’s this?”
Asahina sighed in defeat, then waved a hand towards Fukawa, “This is Toko Fukawa, Ultimate Writing Prodigy.” She grumbled, then waved from Toko to Naegi’s sister, “Toko, Komaru Naegi, Naegi’s sister.”
Komaru’s eyes shined, “Woah, that’s so impressive! Have you written anything I might know?”
Toko winced. A dreaded question that opened the door to many other questions and conversations that Toko would much rather just avoid all together. She tugged at her braid and looked away from them all,
“‘So Lingers the Ocean’ is probably my most popular work to date…” She grumbled, hoping it’d be enough to be heard over the music because there was nothing she hated more than having to repeat herself in situations like this.
Komaru’s bright eyes widened, and she gasped, “Wait- Wait no way! You wrote that?!”
Toko bristled, “What, you got a problem with that?”
Komaru shook her hands in hasty negation, “No, not at all! I thought I recognised your name! I read that one! Oh my gosh, it was so…Sad but, like, in a calm way. Sort of like the ocean. Oh! Is that why you called it that?!”
Toko’s mouth ran faster than her brain could process, “How is the ocean sad, moron, it’s the ocean.”
Komaru flinched like Toko had slapped her, “H-Hey! Don’t call me a moron!”
“Fukawa seriously!” Asahina squealed, then scoffed in an appalled tone, “You’re so rude!”
Predictable. Toko couldn’t believe the stupidity of this whole situation. Did her Master seriously expect something like this of her? With someone as pathetic and ordinary as this? Komaru was the exact type of girl she expected she would be. Boring and full of herself but completely fake about it so she could look more appealing to the equally lame and equally boring boys around her. Just like every other girl. Toko could see how the rest of this conversation would play out, and she didn’t care for any of it. Not the demands for apology, the sly words hidden under a nice smile, for the whispers about her between friends in front of her face.
Well, that's what she expected to happen, anyway. It was what usually happened. But instead of any of that, Komaru bit back.
“The ocean so too can be sad!” There was a weird, defensive passion in her voice that threw Toko off more than her biting response alone did. It didn’t end there. She huffed and kept going, “Have you ever sat and looked at it for too long? The way it just stretches out into forever, it seeps all the warmth out of you. The-The crashing of the waves can sound a little like…crying.” She lost power the longer she talked, a blush rising on her cheeks in response to the wide-eyed stares she was gaining from the people around her, “It’s not a real sadness, it’s, like, a metaphorical sadness.” She folded her arms and pouted, “I would’ve thought a writer would’ve understood that.”
“O-Of course I understand that! I just didn’t think someone like you would.”
Komaru spluttered, “I-I do perfectly well in my creative writing classes, thank you!” But then, all her bravado seeped away. A sheepish look crawled over her face, “Though, I suppose compared to someone like you, I really wouldn’t be any good, huh?”
Toko sucked her teeth. Suddenly, she felt colder.
“Of course you wouldn’t.”
For some reason, she almost felt disappointed.
It didn’t last long. It was quickly over-powered by the feeling of someone’s eyes drilling into her.
She turned towards the feeling and recoiled back when she came face to face with that punk rock weirdo only a few inches away from her face.
“Hmm…” She hummed, rubbing her chin and narrowing her eyes as she leaned in even closer.
Toko stumbled back, hands up protectively to ward her further away, “What’s your problem?!”
Mioda straightened up, waving her worries away enthusiastically, “Nothing, nothing! Just pretend Ibuki isn’t even here! Ibuki wants to continue watching!” She wore an expression like she was holding something back, acting like a bottle of pop that had been violently shaken. Then, the lid came off and she exploded, “GWAA! It’s like chocolate and miso in a brownie! Oh, oh! Or a 9-string electric guitar in a classical folk music orchestra- Wait! That sounds totally AWESOME! Ibuki needs to hear these discordant melodies SHINE!” Mioda yelled happily then scurried away, without direction or care for anyone who stood in her way.
But she hardly had time to fully process all of whatever that was before Asahina was in her face again,
“Fukawa, would it seriously kill you to be pleasant for once?!” Asahina snapped, “Komaru is my friend, I won’t stand here and just let you be horrible to her for absolutely no reason!”
On instinct, Toko wanted to snap back at her. Asahina’s bossy, do-gooder attitude grated her on the worst of days. It was especially bad now.
The thing was that Toko knew she was rude. She wasn’t a fucking idiot; she didn’t need someone like Asahina squawking in her face constantly about it. She just didn’t see the point in pretending to be something she wasn’t. It took less effort, caused less problems. It’s not like it would change people’s opinion on her. She knew. She’d tried all that already. All that happened was the bullying hurt worse. If people like Asahina didn’t like that, all the more reason for her to behave this way, because it was people like Asahina that she hated the absolute most. Preppy girls who thought they were so much better than Toko just because they were pretty and nice and could talk to people and people would like and accept them. Girls that never had to fear being left out of a conversation. Girls that wouldn’t ever second guess when someone told them they liked them. Girls who’d never be asked out as a joke. Vain, stupid girls that vain, stupid boys always fell for, who would pop out a baby and that would be it for them.
But this wasn’t just any other day, or any normal situation. As it stood, Toko knew that she at least needed to be a little bit likable in some way if she was ever going to stand a chance at getting Komaru to kiss her. Even if she got her plastered drunk, she’d need to be nice enough on the surface that she’d consider it. It’s not like she had her looks to play off here. She needed all the help she could get.
So, this time, she bit her tongue, grumbled to herself, and let Asahina take a very strategic win. For the sake of her Master and his hand in marriage and nothing else. Just for now, she’d agree that, maybe, just in this exact, particular situation, Asahina was right.
Toko was not ashamed by Asahina’s telling off. She just suddenly was uninterested in trying to start her own conversation again. She held back, fussing with her braid and chewing her lip, as Asahina and Komaru talked with an ease that Toko had never really managed to figure out herself.
She ignored the small voice in her head that just begged for her to give this up. Her and her Master were meant to be together. This wouldn’t be the only chance she’d get to prove herself worthy. There were a million other things she could do instead.
She didn’t care. She would not show herself as a flaky coward in front of her Master, even if that's who she actually was on the inside. She quietly listened to the conversation they were having, scraping through scraps in her mind to find some sort of way to take back control and get talking to Komaru once more.
“Hina, he’s back.”
As if two mindless bimbos weren’t enough to deal with, Sayaka Maizono entered the scene. She squeezed herself between Toko and Asahina, a mildly panicked look in her eyes that she plastered over with a kind smile to fool anyone who glanced from afar. Toko snatched her shoulder away from her, grumbling nastily under her breath at the touch. Asahina on the other hand, held no such qualms to the intrusion and didn’t hesitate to welcome her into the circle. She hooked her arm around hers, hugging her closer into her body in a protective manner.
“Seriously! That guy cannot take a hint!”
“Oh! Fukawa.”
Toko startled and made herself smaller, leaning further away from the sparkling, clean, perfect energy that radiated off the idol.
“What?! Y-You disgusted by the sight of me or something?! Think I should leave and stop messing with your p-perfect, flawless image?! I was here first!”
“No, not at all.” Maizono replied, entirely unphased, “I’m glad you think I’m flawless though. But I’m really not. I was just happy to see you somewhere other than next to Togami for once.” She huffed a laugh, but it wasn’t unkind, “It’s nice.” She said it with a small smile. Toko rejected it instantly, knew the trick for what it was and vehemently ignored the warm, comforting feeling that bloomed in her chest at the put-on genuineness of her words. She’d been fooled too many times before. Toko was not naive. Not anymore. She meant to tell her as much, but she turned away and gasped, “Oh, I’m so sorry! I totally ignored you then!”
“N-NO!” Komaru yelled, loud and pitchy enough that it startled Asahina. Komaru noticed and the blush on her face turned up to a level that made Toko uncomfortable just looking at it. “No- No i-it’s f-fine. Totally fine.” She tried, slightly quieter this time, but still rushed, still shaken.
Komaru’s back was stiff as a board and straight as one too. Her shoulders nearly reached her ears and she kept fussing with the hair that framed her face and her fringe, swapping between pushing it behind her ear and fluffing the fringe, making sure it was in place. The blush on her face didn’t drain and there was a shake to her hands that made Toko think that if the cup she was holding was plastic she would’ve crushed it. Her wide eyes looked everywhere, up, down, across the room, back to Maizono, then quickly to the other side of the room before repeating in varying patterns over and over.
What the hell was her deal?
Maizono leaned in a little, hugging Asahina’s arm and humming as she stared at Komaru with sharp eyes. Komaru’s eyes stopped darting and landed, wide and unblinking, on Maizono and stayed there.
“...Wait. Naegi’s sister, right? I remember you from middle school!”
“Um, yes! I-It’s been a while, it’s nice to see you again.”
Maizono giggled girlishly at her stiff, overly polite reply, “You’re so cute! Much cuter than your brother. Oh! But don’t tell him I said that, okay? He might get jealous.” Maizono winked. Komaru managed a weak laugh, though she kind of looked like she was about to pass out. Maizono kindly pretended she didn’t notice the extremely obvious freak out Komaru was having. She instead addressed the others in this small, weird circle, “Have any of you seen Enoshima yet? She told me she’d be here; I was excited to see what she’d be wearing.”
Toko held back a long and disgusted groan. The only thing that stopped her pulling at the skin of her face in exhausted distress was her new modus operandi to act in a way that was somewhat socially acceptable. This type of boring, asinine conversation was the exact reason she steered clear of stupid, loud, air-headed girls like these. She bit down on her tongue hard and blocked her ears as best she could to the ridiculous and pointless conversation the girls were having. Chittering and nattering away about fashion, like it mattered at all. Toko was so totally above all of this. She hoped her Master would be grateful to her for the depths she’d lowered herself to just for his approval.
The conversation continued. Squawking and nattering and on and on and on with no end in sight. The frustration was too much. She couldn’t push it down.
“Who gives a flying fuck what that obnoxious, tacky, bitch is wearing?!” Toko snapped, a nasally creak in her tone that she pointedly chose to ignore for her own sake. Old habits die hard, she supposed. She couldn’t even say she regretted speaking out. It was worth it to make the conversation stop if even for a moment.
Maizono was the first to break the silence, “I think ‘obnoxious’ is sort of the point though, isn’t it?” Maizono’s voice was simple, but steady. A solid foundation of confidence under her every word that made Toko’s previous bravado feel shaky in its presence. “And as for caring, I do.” Toko looked away. Maizono didn’t let up, “And so does most of the female population of Japan if her magazine sales are anything to go by. I have to keep my finger on the pulse, you know? I wanted to take some inspiration from her for my group’s next debut.”
Toko grumbled. Just because she could explain it, didn’t make the explanation any more stupid. Her stupid girl group was just as stupid and tacky as Enoshima’s stupid fucking fashion sense.
Toko’s thoughts, locked away in her head as they were, didn’t reach Maizono and she remained completely unaffected by her or the tension that they’d built between the two of them that made the atmosphere that had existed before hand strain to keep its grip. Maizono didn’t let it linger. She turned her unyielding stare away from Toko and to Komaru instead. Smile turned perfectly sweet, her voice singsong and kind that perfectly cut through the ruined atmosphere like breath of summer air,
“A cute girl like you, I bet you know all about Enoshima’s fashion sense. I don’t think I could pull off the makeup, but the colours are super bold and interesting!”
Komaru’s laugh was pitchy and strained. She shook her head hard enough to tempt whiplash, “A-Ah, no, no way! I’d never suit something like that- I’m d-definitely not cute enough!”
Maizono’s windchime giggle sparkled over the music, “You’re so humble too, that makes you even cuter!” Maizono sighed and gave a cursory check to the surrounding area, “Well he’s gone, I think I’m going to go and search some more for her. Lovely to meet you, Komaru.”
Finally, she was leaving. But Toko wasn’t entirely miffed anymore at her sudden interference. She’d learned valuable information from this, information she planned to use to her advantage.
But instead of just walking off, Maizono turned back to her and levelled her with a smile that felt…Strange, “Enjoy the party, Fukawa. Okay?”
Okay. Whatever the fuck that meant. Why the hell did she care?
Her stare cut right through her. It made her feel even more nervous than she usually did around Maizono. There was something off about her. Something that made Toko feel…Weird. Different to the way girls normally made her feel weird.
She couldn’t hack the pressure. She could feel an ugly, bright blush blooming on her face. She broke eye contact, chewing her lip and staring intently at the floor. Then, with a swish of her long, shiny hair, Maizono was gone.
Toko put it aside. Whatever. Maizono was weird and cryptic and creepy. She knew this already. She didn’t care. She had bigger fish to fry. Specifically, Komaru.
Asahina had already began ribbing her for her reaction to Maizono. Komaru denied it, her blush only seeping deeper into her cheeks as she shied away from Asahina’s teasing. Asahina grabbed her, hugging herself onto Komaru’s arm and jostling her around, and Komaru didn’t seem too bothered by it at all. Komaru gave in to her teasing and groaned and squealed annoyingly in the aftermath of meeting a celebrity. Asahina laughed at her, but it didn’t make Komaru ashamed. If anything, she seemed happier for it.
It made her hesitate. She’d been about to join in, but her footing slipped, her steps suddenly becoming uncertain. Before she could open her mouth, Asahina’s words repeated in her head. Be pleasant, be…’nice’. Surely this didn’t count, right? Her plan was to make fun of her and here Asahina was doing exactly that. Everyone acted like the sun shined out of Asahina’s ass constantly. If she could do it, it was fine for her to do it too, right?
It was something she never learned, she supposed. No one ever let her. Any time she tried to joke like that with people, they always took it so seriously. That line she wasn’t supposed to cross was always so blurry for her. Wasn’t like anyone else had respected it when talking to her.
But then again, Komaru hadn’t reacted badly earlier, had she? Toko wasn’t even trying to be nice then, but Komaru didn’t crack. She fought back, but not to hurt, but to give as good as she got. It was weird. Toko wondered how far she could push this.
But it wasn't just that. If she was going to have any sort of shot at kissing Komaru, she needed to get her on her own. Forget social fopaux, Toko had been working her way around that her whole life. Asahina, with how protective she was of her new ‘friend’, would never let Toko get away with it if she tried to get with this girl in front of her. But how the hell was she supposed to get Asahina away?
“Good evening, ladies.”
The voice dropped through Toko like an ice cube down the back of her shirt.
Nagito Komaeda smiled gently at the group as they stared back in silent confusion. He glanced between their confused stares and gave a charming laugh, bowing a little and rubbing the back of his neck humbly,
“Ah, apologies for the intrusion, I mean no harm, I swear! I can see you were having so much fun. I didn’t mean to stop it. But, Asahina, I believe Oogami was looking for you?”
Asahina blinked back into life, as if her batteries had been replaced. She let go of Komaru and looked around the room, “Oh! Where was she?”
Komaeda directed her away, and with a sweet goodbye to Komaru, Asahina vanished into the crowd.
Well, she supposed that's what she wanted. But this outcome was, arguably, worse. Especially since, even though Asahina had left, Komaeda very much hadn’t.
Komaru looked at Toko out of the corner of her eye, like she could give some sort of insight into why this creep was hanging around. She looked away.
Komaeda cleared his throat and fussed with the ridiculously deep, stretched out collar of his shirt, before letting out a breath and smiling brilliantly, “Komaru, right? Naegi’s sister?”
“Yeah?”
“Nagito Komaeda. I’m your brother’s upperclassman. We…Actually share the same talent. Isn’t that crazy?”
Komaru blinked rapidly, slightly taken aback, “Oh! You’re lucky too, huh? How…Uh…” Komaru winced, “Lucky?”
Toko grit her teeth and muffled a pained groan.
Komaeda didn’t seem phased. He just laughed, cheery and happy but so, so fake. Komaru glanced at her again and this time Toko shared it. She was just happy that, for once, she wasn’t the only one feeling this way around this guy.
“I hope this isn't too forward, but,” He unfortunately continued. He tilted his head, his knuckles white with the grip he had on the glass in his hand, then asked, “Do you have a boyfriend?”
Toko could’ve killed him. She could’ve. Not even a joke. She might never have done it before herself specifically, but she could definitely start. She’d start with him.
Komaru was so shocked by the question she almost fell backwards, her face bursting into a hot, uncomfortable blush, “Wh-W- Y-You can’t just ask a girl you just met something like that!”
“Ah, my apologies. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, it’s just…” He paused, coming up with an excuse on the spot. From what Toko could guess, he couldn’t find one, so he just went for what seemed to be his usual go-to: smiled a bit awkwardly and laughed, “Well. I was just wondering, I suppose.”
Komaru shook her hand, quickly negating the entire thing before confirming her disinterest even clearer with a shaky, “N-No. I don’t. A-And you’re very…” Komaru struggled, looked him up and down, then failed an attempt at a kind smile, “Um…Sweet” She swallowed, then cupped both hands around her cup and stared at the contents of it as she let him down gently, “But...I-I’m not looking for someone right now and I don’t know you at all and- um-“
Komaeda sucked his teeth and sighed deeply in disappointment, finishing off the act with a weak punch to the air. “Darn it. Just my luck. I should’ve known…”
Toko’s stomach cramped. It took everything she could to stay standing. This guy, this fucking guy-
He recovered in a snap, all disappointment thoroughly washed away, as his chipper, bright tone returned, “Well! Can’t blame a guy for trying! Plenty more fish in the sea, as they say!”
His eyes met Toko’s and he grinned in a particularly pleased way. Toko concentrated all of her power into the stare so that maybe she’d be able to make Komaeda’s eyeballs explode in their sockets with the power of her anger alone.
Any and all violent actions Toko was a hair's breadth away from committing on this freaky, spindly bastard were prematurely cancelled, as Naegi stumbled and invited himself comfortably into their conversation.
Toko clenched her fists so hard even her bitten fingernails managed to bite into her palms. This was becoming impossible.
“Komaeda! There you are-” His eyes slid away from Komaeda and the brightness suddenly dimmed, “Oh, hey Komaru.”
Komaru smiled forcibly, a baring of teeth more than a real grin, “Yeah hey. Nice of you to introduce me to your friends, big bro.”
“You can introduce yourself, can’t you?” Naegi grumbled.
“It’s the principle!” Komaru insisted. She turned to Toko with such force and so suddenly that Toko startled a little, “Fukawa, you agree, right?”
Toko’s shoulders went stiff, she held her hands up defensively, “D-Don’t drag me into this. I’m an only child.”
Komaeda chuckled. Toko’s frown deepened, “Ah, sibling love. I’m so jealous. I always wanted a little sister.” he said wistfully,
“You can have her if you want.” Naegi stage-whispered with a conspiratory smirk.
Komaru scoffed a laugh, the hand that wasn’t holding her drink sitting on her hip, “Charming!”
“So, this is what you’re like behind closed doors, eh?” Toko gurgled a laugh, her smile curling with sinister glee, “I knew that polite, perfect, mama’s boy stint was an act.”
“I-It’s not an act!” Naegi stuttered, his cheeks colouring slightly pink.
“No, he’s right, it’s not.” Komaru agreed, then grinned, “He’s definitely a mama’s boy.”
Toko yelled a cracking laughter, one that surprised her enough she almost choked. At her side, Komaru bloomed, her cheeks glowing proudly as her back stood a little straighter. Maybe Komaru wasn’t so boring after all. Naegi’s embarrassed spluttering only made her laugh harder.
“A-At least I can ride a bike!” He snapped back.
“Well, it’s a lot easier for you considering you can still fit on kid’s trikes!”
“I can’t change how tall I am, what’s your excuse?”
Komaeda stepped forwards, an uncertainty to his pleasant smile. It was the realist thing she’d seen from him since she’d met him. “Um, guys? Let’s not fight-”
“We aren’t fighting!” They snapped in unison, glaring harshly enough at Komaeda that he backed up slightly, hands raised to show his innocence.
Naegi was the first to snap out of it. He coughed to cover his own embarrassment, despite how clear it was to see on his face. He shook his head, then grumbled a dismissive ‘whatever’, before his typical bright demeanour returned full force,
“Sorry, Komaeda. Let’s go back to the others, yeah? They were asking about you.”
Komaru poked her tongue out at Naegi. He ignored it. Komaru met Toko’s eye with a smirk that made her snort, setting off her giggles once more.
Komaeda, on the other hand, seemed lost to everyone but Naegi. He froze, then quietly asked, “...What?”
“Uh, the others? Our game?”
There was a quiet moment, the party swelling to fill the space Komaeda’s blathering should’ve taken up, but unexpectedly didn’t. He stared through the floor, “...Oh.” He mumbled quietly, a strange look in his eye that, if Toko cared enough, she could’ve dug deeper into. As it stood, she only cared if it meant he’d go away faster.
It seemed she got her wish. Komaeda snapped out of whatever trance he’d fallen into and his stupid, fake smile lit up his face, directed this time back at Komaru, “How lovely the Ultimate’s are to be so thoughtful as to include people like us, right, Komaru?”
Komaru furrowed her brow, a confused amusement on her face, “...Uh…Sure?”
“Goodnight, ladies.” Then, with a short, polite bow, Komaeda finally, finally, left them alone.
“That guy…” Toko said through gritted teeth, her hands twitching and strangling the air imagining his skinny throat in its place.
Finally, it was just her and Komaru.
Fuck.
It was just her and Komaru.
“That’s… Never happened to me before.”
It took Toko a moment to catch up with Komaru’s meaning. When she did, her eyes widened so far her glasses fell down her face, “Seriously?”
Komaru scratched her cheek shyly, “Is it really that weird?”
“For a girl like you, yeah.”
“H-huh?”
“I would’ve thought guys would be all over you with a rack like-” Toko almost swallowed her tongue as she realised the words that were about to come out of her mouth. Asahina’s warning of ‘be nicer’ echoing through her mind. She coughed and redirected to a…’nicer’ course. “I mean…Y-You just seem like someone people would like to date, I guess.”
Komaru stared at her unblinking, “...Huh.” She tilted her head, “That was…Actually sweet?”
“Don’t read into it.” Toko replied quickly. She felt slimy, in a different way to how she normally did. Whatever it was, it didn’t feel good. She needed to get this over with. She realised the opportunity she carved for herself and took it, “W-What, so you’ve never kissed someone before or anything?”
Komaru’s eyes widened in alarm and she hunched forwards, getting further into Toko’s personal space and begged, “D-Don’t say it so loud! It’s embarrassing.”
Toko adjusted her glasses, even though they sat firmly on her face. She braced herself and said, “W-Well…I haven’t kissed anyone either.”
Silence fell between them. Komaru stared at Toko. Toko stared back. Her eye twitched.
“C-CAN YOU AT LEAST PRETEND TO BE SHOCKED?!”
“I DON’T NEED TO PRETEND! I REALLY AM!”
“Ugh! Fuck you!”
“I’m serious!” Komaru pleaded, “I mean, you’re so pretty and talented, it’s just shocking.”
Toko stumbled backwards, clutching a hand to her chest and pointing a shaking, accusatory finger at Komaru, “L-Lying so boldly will make your tongue turn black, you know?! It’ll go black and it’ll rot and fall off then you’ll never kiss anyone!”
“I’M NOT LYING!” Komaru insisted further, not giving up the fight. “Plus, you write such beautiful romances, I guess I just assumed...”
With that, the fight left Toko. She sighed, a heaviness falling over her.
So predictable. Just like everyone else, she assumed something so completely wrong. Another assumption put upon her, its burden a heavy weight on her heart. Yet again, Toko was a disappointment.
“That doesn’t have anything to do with it.” She mumbled and tried to keep the hurt from her voice. It wasn’t her fault people made such baseless assumptions about her character, just because of what she wrote. Or that’s what she told herself, anyway.
None of this mattered now. She had more important things to focus on.
“W-Well…We could easily fix this problem, you know?”
“What do you mean?” Komaru replied innocently. It made Toko swallow a little harder than she would’ve anyway.
She held her breath in her chest, still under the wide-eyed, unassuming stare Komaru gave her.
She looked over her shoulder, back towards the sofa where her Master stood. His profile stood out gracefully, dignified and sharp. His presence was commanding and stern, even from this far away. It pushed her onwards, against all odds.
Here it goes.
“I-If we kissed, then we could both not be kiss-less virgins anymore. S-So let’s just French it all slobbery and get it over with!”
The silence only lasted a second, maybe two. For Toko, it felt like an eternity.
Then, Komaru laughed, “Ew! No way!”
“W-WHAT DO YOU MEAN EW?!”
Komaru continued to laugh, brushing her off, “Nothing! It was just the way you described it.” Then Komaru’s laughter slowed and it seemed that she realised Toko wasn’t laughing, “I mean, you weren’t serious, were you?” Toko looked away, a shameful blush growing over her face. Komaru spluttered, trying to regain her footing, and ultimately failing, “I-I couldn’t kiss some girl I don’t know for a reason like that!”
“You don’t know Maizono and you’d make out with her.” Toko grumbled, folding her arms sternly.
“I do know Maizono! I know that she loves to cook- she’s the best in her group and always makes sure her teammates are well fed, and she’s good at Othello and her favourite book series is-.”
“Creep.”
“I-IT’S NOT CREEPY! It’s totally normal for Maizono fans to know this stuff about her!”
“But you don’t deny you would kiss her.”
“WELL DUH! Anybody would want to kiss Maizono!!”
“Sounds like something someone who’d kiss some girl they don't know would say.”
Komaru’s face flushed red with anger, “I know Maizono better than you and you share a class with her! Ugh! You're so ungrateful!”
Toko rolled her eyes dramatically and scoffed loudly, her lip curling in distaste, “Oh please, Maizono is totally over-rated.” She huffed a laugh and folded her arms, “Though for normal girls like you, I expect that’s good enough.”
“Shut up!” Komaru’s voice cracked like a whip, the impact of it made Toko reel back in alarm. Where the hell did that come from? Komaru didn’t let Toko get her bearings, “What do you know about anything?! If you say one more bad thing about Maizono, I’ll really lose it!”
“Jeez, I was only joking…”
“Well, this isn’t something you joke about with someone you’ve just met!” Toko’s rebuttal died on her tongue at the intensity of Komaru’s anger, “Maizono’s group and her music mean a lot to me. I won’t stand by while you disrespect it! If someone called you stupid for loving something with all your heart you’d be upset too!”
Her first thought was of Master Togami. A thought so impulsive she turned to look right at him, as if he’d called to her.
She supposed she could understand that sentiment well enough. No one understood her devotion to him and even less approved of it. Not that it mattered. It really didn’t. What they had was stronger than that. But it didn’t make it any less frustrating to constantly battle against it. Even now, if others knew of her plan, they’d fight against it, they’d call into question the motive behind her determination. She didn’t need anyone else but her Master, of course. She was also very much used to ridicule and ostracization. But the years and the love didn’t make the sting of isolation any less harsh. Her devotion was a very part of her. Denouncing that, calling that feeling stupid…
“Okay fine, fine. Sorry or whatever. I won’t joke about it again.” Toko relented, tugging at her braids and running them through her fists soothingly, “Still don’t get it though.”
“Well, you don’t have to have good taste in music, you just need to be good at writing.”
Toko snorted. She couldn’t argue with that.
That was one plan out the window. It was a bad plan, in all honesty. Toko didn’t expect it to work. If things in life were as easy as asking for what you want and getting it, Toko would be a lot less damaged. She’d have to think of some other route. Maybe getting her drunk was the best option here. Komaru could get drunk; it’d make her overly friendly. Falling over everywhere probably. Toko bet she’d be the classic type of drunk, just as predictable in her intoxication as everything else. Then Toko could catch her, hands wrapped firmly around her soft waist. Komaru would be thankful that she’d saved her, of course, and cup her face with sticky hands and Toko could lean in and-
Well, then she’d kiss her. As she had to do just for her Master’s pleasure, of course.
Simple as. Easy as pie.
Toko hoped that if there was a God, that now would be the time He’d finally show up for her.
She casually mentioned getting a drink to Komaru and Komaru, thankfully, agreed. They made their way over to the drinks. Toko was hoping that if that bottle of Fireball she’d noticed earlier was still there, she could snag it and subtly spike Komaru with it to speed up this whole, draining process.
Unfortunately, as per usual, God did not hear her prayers. She wasn’t sure why she thought He’d even be listening, with the sins she had under her belt. Maybe Satan would’ve been a better shot.
But Satan also seemed to be occupied right now. Too busy taking the form of Nagito Komaeda and crushing her plans into dust.
Traitorous bastard.
At the back of the room, in front of everyone, Komaeda stood with the round, stout, glass lip of the Fireball bottle to his mouth, and chugged.
He gagged, the golden liquid bubbling back into the bottle and dribbling out of his mouth and onto his shirt. It threw him forwards, violent enough that Toko genuinely worried for a second that he’d vomit. But he simply took a small, sharp breath, threw his head back and continued.
“Oh my God.” Komaru whispered, eyes wide, totally transfixed on the scene in front of her. Everyone else slowly joined in, their attention even further pulled towards him as Kuwata came speeding back around the corner and started chanting.
“Chug! Chug! Chug!”
“I-Is he okay?” Komaru whispered, leaning in closer to Toko so she could hear her. Toko leaned away. It didn’t deter Komaru. Her eyes darted between her and the jester doing his idiotic performance centre of the stage, “That’s like, that’s too much right? Like that has to be dangerous, right?”
“Probably.”
Komaru looked around a bit more frantically at the crowd that had gathered to watch, “I-Is someone going to stop him?”
“Eh…”
Toko hoped they wouldn’t. She hoped she’d watch him succumb to alcohol poisoning right in front of her for doing something so fucking stupid in the first place. Idiot. Fucking idiot. This was the guy she had sponsoring her? She knew there was something whacked about him. No one was that purposefully nice by accident. Everything about him had sent her skin on edge. Every conversation rolling over and into the uncanny valley. If she’d bet on this instead, Master Togami would’ve been hers by now.
Figures.
Some guy burst through the crowd, flanked by that mechanic from the upper class. Toko curled her lip as the terrible thoughts that had been unwillingly forced upon her resurfaced for a moment. The bland looking guy ripped the bottle from Komaeda, got up in his face, and yelled what Toko had been thinking from the moment she’d met him,
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
What an absolute embarrassing mess. Toko was just glad for once she wasn’t at the centre of it.
Instead, she was forced to become the exact type of person she hated. A drama fiend huddled on the sidelines, listening in on another’s demise for her own entertainment.
Though she would admit, she didn’t feel so bad. That guy totally had it coming, him and whoever this plain looking jackass was that seemed to be the spark to his gunpowder too, just for being stupid enough to bother with someone like him.
It’s not like she wanted to be listening in and watching them squabble. But Komaru obviously did. She was huddled as close to the window as she could get, peeking out from behind a curtain, Asahina at her back, doing exactly the same with the other side of the fabric. Toko stood off to the side, leaning against a wall, arms folded, shoulders to her ears as she tried her best to breathe through the absolute stupidity she was being forced to reckon with.
Komaru smacked her hand against her mouth at something that happened outside. Asahina grabbed her and shook her, both gasping with exaggerated, excited shock at the going’s on outside.
Komaru whispered loud enough Toko didn’t know why she didn’t just say it normally, “Fukawa, oh my god, you need to see this look-”
“No, I really don’t.”
“Is he bleeding?!” Asahina gasped,
“Yeah, I definitely don’t.” Toko confirmed, shrinking in on herself a bit more as her stomach churned at just the idea of it.
“No Fukawa seriously-!”
“'Omaru-” Toko growled in warning.
She backed off and continued her snooping and whispering with Asahina. Toko rubbed the angry exhaustion from her eyes.
Only for Maizono to suddenly pipe up from where she also stood, looking out the window, the other side of Komaru.
She nodded, resolute and sure, “They’ll be okay. I’m sure of it. Because they believe in each other.”
Toko had had enough.
“What stupid, mystical shit are you even talking about?” Maizono stared at her like she hadn’t expected her to speak. “What was that? Literally- What the fuck. Get out of here! Go on! Go! Scram you hippy!” She waved Maizono away like she was a stray cat and she responded in turn, though with a lot more grace. She floated away to somewhere deeper into the room. Toko didn’t care where. It was away from her and that's all that counted.
“Fukawa!” Komaru gasped, dropped the curtain to reprimand her. At least she had priorities. “How dare you speak to Maizono like that! I could kill you-”
“Well sorry princess, your girlfriend was being a weirdo.”
“She’s not a weirdo!”
Toko snorted, “Of course that’s what you deny.”
Only then did it hit Komaru what she’d implied. She stubbornly folded her arms, “W-Well-”
“Shh! I can’t hear them!” Asahina hissed, not once taking her eyes off the window.
Komaru relented, childishly poking out her tongue before turning back to the window. Toko let out a long-suffering sigh. If she was going to be this involved, she may as well not half ass it. She didn’t care, not one bit. But she figured at least it’d give her something to hold over that albino beanpole’s head if she needed it.
“Is the blood gone?” She asked tentatively, a tinge of regret in her words at what she was about to entertain.
Komaru snapped her head to her and gasped, “Y-Yes! Come here, look,”
Komaru made space for her, shuffling over so Toko could fit beneath her. She knelt down, peeking over the windowsill edge to the outside as Komaru bent over her to see.
Outside, on Naegi’s front doorstep, that boring guy attempted to reason with Komaeda. He was brave, at least. She’d give him that. Or maybe just really stupid. He reached out for him as Komaeda shakily stood up. Komaeda smacked his hand away and the girls on either side of her gasped. Toko watched the boy’s expression crack down the centre from the impact, but Komaeda didn’t relent. He charged forwards, a verbal attack. Mean and pointed.
“I always knew he was a freak.” Toko mumbled, her fingers pressing tighter onto the windowsill edge till the tips of her fingers went white.
Komaru hummed in agreement, “Yeah, I mean…He asked me out so suddenly like that, now this? What’s his deal?”
Toko huffed a laugh, “I think you’d need 10 years of schooling and a copy of the DSM-V to answer that one.” Then, with much less humour, and an even tighter grip on the windowsill she leaned against, she muttered, “Crazy can smell crazy.”
“Who's crazy?”
Toko looked up and saw Komaru staring down at her. She didn’t know what she expected, but the open, innocent look on her face was definitely not it.
“You.” Toko replied, a bit too quickly, looking away again, picking at a lump under the paint on the windowsill. “C-Crazy about Maizono.”
“...Yeah, you know what? I can’t argue with that.”
They continued to watch. Toko did not care for gossip, or the drama in other people’s boring lives, especially when it was as stupid and inconsequential as whatever was going on tonight.
But Toko couldn’t actually say with full honesty that she wasn’t enjoying herself either. The thought made her internally groan. How low was she really going to stoop in just one night?
She didn’t care about these two outside. Not one bit. So why was this…fun? What was it about the way the other’s gasps would synchronise with the click of Toko’s tongue against her teeth? Why did it feel so warm when she’d glance up at Komaru to see her reaction and find her glancing down at her at the same time? Normally the feeling of someone so close to her would make her sweaty and nervous. Why now did the warmth of Komaru’s body heat, politely keeping as much distance as possible, feel comforting? Why, when her knees accidentally brushed her back, or her elbow grazed her head, did she not mind all that much at all? Why did she catch herself leaning back slightly, relaxing just a little, in case it meant Komaru would bump her one more time? It was just a look, just a sound, just a touch.
When she found herself laughing at something Asahina muttered about Komaeda under her breath, it confused her even more. Until it didn’t.
Inclusion.
The word settled into her like sugar in the bottom of a teacup. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt included. What the hell had changed?
She glanced up. Komaru leaned over her, staring outside with unblinking eyes, like she didn’t want to miss a beat. She must’ve felt her stare, because she glanced down and smiled.
Toko’s attention quickly snapped to the window once more.
…Gossip was still pointless and stupid. It was hurtful. She couldn’t count the number of times that people watching over her demise had made the cuts hurt worse, drawing out the sting longer and longer, tearing off the scab of a wound she’d only just managed to heal over. But she supposed that was only one side of it. Until now, it was the only side she’d seen. But maybe she sort of understood why people did it now.
The thought was conflicting. She picked at the dead skin of her lips as the ideas clashed in her head. It drew her out of the moment. She only resurfaced when Asahina bounced away from the window,
“What even happened? I need to know.” Asahina’s voice was breathy with excitement. Then, she let out a squeal, “Oh my god, this is all so exciting! Nothing this exciting ever happens with our class. These upperclassmen are crazy. Oh my god. I can’t believe it-” Asahina gasped, “Enoshima might know. If a pin drops at a party, she knows about it. Oh my god, I’ll ask her. Wait here.”
With that, Asahina was gone, faster than should’ve been possible, but still slow for her. Two girls rushed past the path she just crossed. One, the shorter one with dusty pink hair and soft, round features, looked like she’d just woken up. She was being half dragged towards the door,
“Is Komaeda okay?” She asked sleepily,
“No, he’s- he’s really upset. I think at Hinata, but no one can figure out why-”
The conversation cut off, the door closing between them blocking the sound.
The girl knelt before Komaeda. He seemed completely ecstatic to see her, wrapping his arms around her unsteadily and leaning his weight on her. But it wasn’t that that Toko watched. It was the way that guy, that plain, boring boy, stared at them.
Toko huffed through a smirk as the pieces finally fell into place. She knew that look all too well. That guy had terrible taste.
Somewhere along the way, a taxi was called, and the two of them dragged Komaeda away from the house and into it. The car door shut. The engine growled as it drove away, and then…It was over. All that was left was the murmurs of the students still left behind trying to parse some sort of understanding from the little they had, creating rumours as they went, stretching the truth to something better, and the music still playing over the speakers, unphased by the conflicts that occurred while it sang. It continued to play to a party that was no longer listening, completely blissful in its ignorance.
“You know,” Komaru started, leaning back from the window, “I think Maizono was right. They’ll be okay.”
Toko looked up at her from where she knelt, her knees too stiff to get up immediately. “What makes you so confident in that?”
Komaru put her hands on her hips, “Well, what makes you so sure they won't?”
Toko chewed her lip and looked back out onto the front of the house. A few upperclassmen were still hanging around out there. The tall, foreign girl wiped away a tear, and the goth boy she’d been dancing with all night wrapped her in his coat as they watched the empty space of the road. Then, that punk rocker girl stood up, and the foreign girl called her over, and wrapped her in a hug the goth boy stepped away from.
Toko sighed and pushed her glasses up her face.
Someone so plain paired with someone so entirely complex. There was no way it could work out.
“…If this were some romance novel then, yeah. They probably would. They’d both grow as characters and come back together stronger than before. It's a simple, classic relationship arc.”
“Exactly!” Komaru said, a finger on her nose as she pointed the other at Toko.
Toko growled and slowly pulled herself to her feet, hand on the wall doing most of the work, “Not exactly! This isn’t a story, Dekomaru. It’s real life. Real life isn’t anything like the story books.” She stood, and sighed, then turned back to the window, “If it was, what would be the point in writing anything?”
Komaru was quiet, still staring out the window with a blank look on her face. Then, quietly, with more emotion than Toko expected, she said, “I don’t agree with you.”
Toko rolled her eyes, “Ugh. You’re so naive.”
“Hm, yeah. I kinda am.” Komaru replied. Her face was still so deceptively blank. Toko couldn’t make sense of it, her thousand-yard stare aimed outside, focused on where the taxi had once been. “But I don’t think that’s a bad thing.” She looked at Toko and she felt frozen in her stare. Then she smiled, “I think you’re a little naive too, Fukawa.”
“Huh?”
“Well, you kind of have to be, right? Your bestselling novels are romances. The fisherman and his love get together at the end of ‘So Lingers the Ocean’.”
Toko felt irritation crawling up her spine, clenching against her jaw, “And?”
“I dunno.” Komaru said a bit wistfully, shrugging her shoulders and clasping her hands behind her back, “I guess I just don’t believe that someone so completely callous and stone hearted could create something like that. I think you have to be at least a little naive to believe in something like true love enough to write about it.”
Something struck within her. A wobble, a crack. For some reason, the image of a deer running through the woods in fear came to mind.
Toko turned away, shoulders stiff, “You don’t understand anything at all.” She growled through gritted teeth and stalked away.
“What the hell? Hey! Come back-!”
She was not giving up. There was no part of the agreement that said this had to be done in one night. Just that she had to do it. It would’ve been better for her, sure. It’s not like she wanted to drag this out or anything. But Toko knew when a strategic retreat was necessary for success in the long run. Lost the battle, not the war, all that stereotypical bullshit. She just needed to regroup and re-consider her strategy.
She’d get Komaru to kiss her if it was the last thing she ever did. She promised that now, not only to her Master, but to herself as well. She would not lose to some normal, nothing girl like Komaru Naegi. Not in this or any other lifetime.
The game was on.
Notes:
I dont want to change Toko's horrific ugly personality (its why we love her!) but nothing on earth could make me write the incest jokes she makes between Komaru and Makoto. im sorry. im just not strong enough. So, Maizono. Its up to u to bare that burden. Gay jokes are funnier anyway. Everyone say thank you Sayaka Maizono !!!
Also i enjoy the soft cute loving relationship between Makoto and Komaru thats in the series and i definately think thats them 80% of the time but. the dynamic shift when ur around ur sibling's friends......it's like a teritorial hostility like nothing else. A race to see who can be the coolest in the room. Or maybe that's just me. LMAO.
I hope u enjoyed ! Tokomaru interactions are so fun to write, I hope u enjoy the way I write their dynamic <3 see u in the next one ! it's funny i like it please look forward to it !
Chapter 3
Notes:
early chapter! whabam! i finished the next one and figured being one chapter ahead of the game was good enough >w<
Song for this chapter:
> Only Happy When It Rains - Garbage
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
To someone looking in from the outside, things could potentially be described as ‘not going well’.
It had been nearly a month since the party. Incidentally, it had also been nearly a month since Toko had seen Komaru.
It wasn’t like she’d given up or anything. Not at all. Just maybe, in the moment, she didn’t really consider how difficult it’d actually be to build a relationship with someone she didn’t know, and who also didn’t go to the same school as her. The summer holidays didn’t help matters. She was stuck in her dorm, blinds drawn, with zero plans except for to write until she couldn’t stay awake anymore, go to sleep, wake up, and write some more. Her work had become a bit frantic with all this weighing on her. Usually, this routine wouldn’t bother her. Now it felt like she was running out of time in some life-or-death situation. The more she sat in her room doing nothing but writing, the more it felt like she was on the verge of losing.
Why hadn’t she asked for her email or phone number at the party? With the clear view of hindsight, it seemed like such an obvious move. What this didn’t account for was Toko’s complete and utter lack of understanding or practise in anything close to what she’d suddenly found herself thrust into. Toko hadn’t ever even made a friend before. It wasn’t like there was an instruction manual for this shit. She’d been so consumed by her anxiety and her unwavering focus on the end goal that she’d forgotten the whole sordid middle she had to deal with to get there. It was completely unlike her. Everyone knew you had to have the ending of your story figured out before you started, but what was most important was the middle of the plot. A solid start and a perfect ending meant nothing if the space between was filled with absolute garbage.
Toko would even take garbage at this point. As it stood, she had nothing.
It wasn’t even like she could ask anyone else for Komaru’s number. The only people who would have that would be Naegi or potentially Asahina and that posed two problems. One, is that to do that, she’d have to talk to Asahina, and she would much rather turn up to class naked tomorrow and do an impromptu interpretive jazz dance performance. Two, asking them would mean giving those two idiots the opportunity to intervene, and there were no two people she needed to stay as far away from this horseshit storyline than those two nosey, do-good bastards. If either of them knew what she was doing, or found out the truth, it’d all be over before it even started.
By the time summer was over, she’d finished her next novel, and done nothing else. The novel was shit. Objectively. She threw it into a folder deep in her laptop where no one would see it and cursed this entire affair and herself for getting herself into it.
Maybe…It was time to give up.
Maybe Master wouldn’t even remember the bet, and she could pretend like it never happened, and no one would be any the wiser. If no one was around to notice she’d given up, did it even really count?
“How is your plan going to woo Komaru?”
Toko froze. She was halfway through changing her shoes at the lockers, one foot in the air, one hand tucking her foot into her shoe. She lost balance, stumbled forwards and crashed into the lockers with a loud, echoing clang as the doors rattled. She hobbled, fumbling to get her foot properly into her shoe before she accidentally stepped on the floor and dirtied her socks. She snatched herself around, back pressed against the locker, sweat starting to build under her fringe. She adjusted her glasses as they fogged up with her heavy breathing.
Celestia stood waiting patiently behind her, hands folded in front of her delicately, not a hair out of place, as usual.
“W-What?”
“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt that the shock of the early morning has rattled your brain, and you aren’t so stupid to have forgotten our bet.”
Toko’s shoulders creeped up to her ears, “T-That bet had nothing to do with me. That was on you-”
“Ah ah ah.” Celestia chided, shaking her finger at her like she was a child. Toko scowled so hard it almost hurt. “It had everything to do with you. You are the bet. You aren’t pulling out.”
Toko tightened her hands into fists, “W-Well-”
“Oh, sorry,” Celestia interrupted, a polite hand over her mouth to cover her gasp, then she smiled, “That wasn’t a question.”
Toko’s fury spiked, she pushed away from the locker, “What the fuck, you bitch! I don’t have to do anything just because you tell me to-”
Celestia charged forwards, and any and all bravado Toko previously had disappeared. She scrambled back, colliding with the lockers once more. Celestia’s hand slammed into the doors behind her, shaking them even more harshly than Toko had when she hit them, their rattling hurting her ears, making her flinch back further than Celestia’s expression would have alone.
“If you pull out of this, I swear I will make your life a living hell !” Celestia hissed, spittle flying from between her clenched teeth, a muscle in her jaw jumping with the fury she held back. She stuck a finger in her face, and Toko tried to back away, but she had nowhere else to go, “No one, especially a scummy, worthless little D-Class rat like you , is going to stand between me and my goal.”
“E-E-Eat shit!” Toko spat. Her heart pounded, the angry hatred in Celestia’s eyes shaking her to her core. It didn’t matter to her. Toko had dealt with this her whole life. She was not going to let someone like Celestia get the better of her. Not now, not ever. She pushed forwards, and Celestia backed away, “ My life is already a living hell. More than you could even comprehend, you washed-up, funeral-clown freak !” She dragged in a breath, grabbing her hair and groaning in angry frustration, “S-Spoilt, p-prissy girls like you couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of hell. There’s nothing you could do to make it worse.” Her ragged breathing dragged out of her, unwanted memories, black outs, the blood on her hands, the body left behind. She swallowed, and sneered, “You have no fucking idea who you’re messing with.”
Celestia lingered. Her harsh red eyes switching between Toko’s, before she backed off, letting out a low, quiet breath.
“Fine.” She conceded, straightening out her clothes pointlessly, “You won’t listen to reason right now, but that’s okay. You’ll come around.” It sounded like a warning. Toko was on the edge of telling her in detail where exactly she could shove it, before Celestia bowed, and smiled brightly when she stood to full height again, “Have a good day, Fukawa.”
Then, she was gone, and Toko was left to fume in her absence. She roughly tugged her shoe on properly and slammed her locker door. She could feel a headache coming on. She hadn’t even made it to class and her uniform was starting to get patchy with sweat. She thought about stopping at the bathroom for a moment before class just to cool off, but that idea was quickly squandered by the sound of the bell trilling through the halls. Toko growled, and it grew almost into a scream. She swallowed it down, and took a breath, and held it hard in her chest as she ran to her homeroom.
The interaction didn’t leave her on the best foot, and she wasn’t standing solidly anyway. She was certain the moment she walked through the classroom door that her Master would have a similar reprimand waiting for her, cursing her for taking so long to do such a simple task.
Though, now she thought of it, being degraded by her Master…It wasn’t an entirely awful idea. The fire in his eyes, his anger, all a cover for his unwavering passion. She’d let him take it out on her, tell her how bad she was, how disobedient . The punishment for her insolence, that’d be the best part. She’d let him do anything to her-
She tripped over her own feet, and stumbled, trying to catch herself, but only made it worse. She yelled as she fell, scrunching her eyes shut before she flew through her classroom door and to the floor in an ungraceful heap.
She groaned, nursing her head in her hand where it pulsed with pain. She righted her glasses, wincing at where the nose pads had nastily bruised against her face from being squished against her. She was just happy they didn’t crack.
She was pulling herself to her hands and knees when someone behind her sucked their teeth.
“Seriously?” Her ears perked up at the voice.
She twisted around and stared up at her Master, strong and domineering as he towered above her. She sat back, restrained her giggles, her knees clacking together under her brown uniform skirt as the fantasies she’d been imagining replayed in her mind. It was a lot easier to picture now, with him sneering down at her from her rightful place on the floor. Her expression probably gave her away. Her Master’s lip curled, and he tilted his head up to look down at her even more severely, “Pick yourself up.” He commanded, before stepping over her and walking to his seat.
She scrambled to her feet, not even stopping to dust herself off before she hurried to her own seat, right behind her Master. It was a good thing she did too. Their homeroom teacher walked in soon after.
As she did every class, she stared at the back of her Master’s head, wistfully letting her mind wander, encouraged forward by the golden threads of perfectly clean, perfectly styled hair that flowed like neat bundles of strung gold from the crown of her Master’s head. He deserved a real crown. He’d wear it so well. He could be her King, and her, his darling Queen, resplendent at his side. They’d rule with an iron fist, no one and nothing able to tear down his unwavering will and keen intellect. Then, at the end of every night, they’d return to their bedchambers, and Toko would give herself up for him to make sweet, passionate love to. She’d have his baby, of course. Every time. She’d never tire of it. A handful of sweet, tiny replicas of her Master running around at her feet, blonde hair bobbing as they ran, blue eyes shining in the sunlight. She giggled indulgently at the image.
She only stopped her daydreaming to glare at the back of Fujisaki’s head. Why did she get to sit next to her Master? A girl like Fujisaki would never be able to fully appreciate the absolute honour she held by having that seat. But she’d already tried switching, and while Fujisaki was quick to agree, her Master stomped out the idea so harshly that Fujisaki’s fear of her Master won out over her fear of her.
It must be because he’d be just as distracted by her as she would by him. He was always so thoughtful of her. She’d take her position behind him instead, but it didn't make her any less jealous of Fujisaki.
Even as her fantasies overtook her mind, underneath it all ran a nagging fear of the bet being brought up that didn’t wane. She thought about grazing against the topic, just to test the water, but wasn’t sure if even doing that much would remind her ever intelligent Master of the bet, and land her right back where she didn’t want to be.
But despite her worrying, he didn’t bring it up. No one did. Toko tried to sit comfortably in the feeling, but the complete lack of acknowledgement of it left her just as uneasy as if he’d told her it was still on. Now, it just became Schrodinger’s bet, both on and off at the same time, and the only way she could find out was by opening the metaphorical box and asking.
Right now, at least, the power was somewhat in her hands. Until her Master brought it up, it was up to her to decide. Decide, she had. There was no way this was ever going to work out in her favour. She’d quit while she was ahead, and if her Master never found out, she’d never have to worry about tarnishing her reputation with him. She’d never have to embarrass herself by attempting to kiss Komaru, and never have to shame herself by letting down her Master. Was it honest? No. But Toko never claimed to be an honest girl. She could live like this. Celestia might be a problem, but she was sure something else would catch her attention sooner or later. Maybe, if she really needed to, she could just make up some other stupid bet to pacify her.
She could do this. This was fine.
She was giving up.
She felt a tiny bit lighter at the idea. Uncurled her shoulders just slightly as she continued her way back to the dorms at the back of campus, walked a bit taller, a bit less burdened.
A hand shot out from the small, shaded alleyway that sat between buildings, and before Toko knew it, she was being dragged into the shadows, a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming.
Her mind sparked. A panic, one that felt sinkingly familiar, swept over her, shooting through her veins like sharp electricity.
No. No. Not here. Not now, not when she’d done so well-
She needed an out. She needed to get out of this and fast. Before she lost herself. Before she woke up again. Her vision tunnelled. The thin, spindly hand over her mouth was long, and the grip on her arm was firm. Possibly a man. It was usually a man.
No matter who they were, everyone was sensitive in certain areas.
She struggled harder, twisted, freed herself from the grip with an effortful grunt. Fear powered her, a primal emotion that boiled her thinking down to only what she needed to do, and ensuring she did it right. She let out an almighty scream, and blindly, with all the adrenaline fuelled power in her gangly body, flung her leg out and up and in between the legs of her capturer.
The attacker made a strangled, yelping noise, and promptly collapsed to their knees, before finally face planting into the concrete.
Holy shit. She did it. She actually did it.
She dragged in her breathing, adrenaline sparkling in her veins, popping like champagne bubbles, tingling victory in her fingers. A shaky smile twitched onto her face.
She adjusted her glasses, and finally took a look at the identity of her kidnapper. She hoped it was at least an attractive man who’d tried to take her, and not some incel freak trying to get lucky on the first girl he found.
Somehow, it was a godless chimera of both scenarios that greeted her. Twitching in pain, grabbing his crotch protectively and curling in the foetal position, was-
“K- KOMAEDA ?”
Every breath he took was heavy, and tickled with weak, wheezing laughter. “Y-You have b-brilliant…” He swallowed harshly, a gulping chug chased by a rattling breath, “Brilliant aim…Miss Fukawa.” He scrunched up his face, but his smile only stretched wider, “Ahaha….H-how wonderful…This horrific pain…C-Can only be a sign of success…”
“S-Success? What the fuck are you talking about-” Toko paused, took a step back, and shook her head, swiping her hands across the air in a firm, “No, no I don’t care, I don’t care .” She turned, shoulders as stiff as her back as she spat, “Fuck you. I hope you need surgery to get them back.”
Komaeda burst out with straining laughter.
She stopped in her tracks. Her shoulders grew stiffer and stiffer. Then, despite what she knew was best for herself, she looked back at him over her shoulder.
“Oh! That would be particularly horrific.” He gasped between his laughing, “ Oh, but the good that would come from this being even worse than it already is. Ah, ” he shivered, curling further in on himself, “I hope so. I hope so.”
She curled her lip, and her shoulders followed suit. She regretted turning around. She knew she would.
“You’re fucked.” She observed, distain clear in her voice. She watched him for a moment. She wasn’t sure why, but she got some sort of twisted satisfaction from watching him writhe in pain. Though, considering her track record, maybe that wasn’t so surprising.
A thought occurred to her as he continued to giggle,
“Wait- Please tell me you aren’t getting off on this-”
Komaeda struggled to his hands and knees, his arms visibly shaking. He laughed, and shook his head, “I’m a lowly, vile creature, but not so low, Miss Fukawa. I’m sorry to disappoint you. It was not a failure on your part. That was a tremendous act of unnecessary violence.”
“U-UNECESSARY? Y-Y-YOU TRIED TO KIDNAP ME!”
“Ah, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.” Komaeda crawled over to the wall, and began pulling himself up with the help of it as he continued to babble, “You must have been scared. I’m sorry. You can kick me again if you like…But, um…” He paused, standing now, but still hunched over. He was sweating. Profusely. He smiled apologetically, eyes clenched shut, “If I could be so bold as to make a request, may it not be in my… Nether-regions again. That was truly the worst pain I’ve felt in a while. I fear I might vomit.”
Toko stared at him, unable to hide her disgust, which was fine because she didn’t want to anyway. “I’m leaving. Don’t ever speak to me again.”
“Ah, but Miss Fukawa!” Toko didn’t think being treated so reverently could get this grating, “I cannot heed that request in good faith! Any other time and I’d understand completely, but this is a matter of urgency. I really need to speak to you!”
Toko didn’t turn around. She wouldn’t. Not for anything. She reached the end of the alleyway and visualised herself in her room away from this freak and all the other weirdos that bothered her in this stupid school-
“It’s about Master Togami.”
Toko stopped.
“What about Master?” She asked slowly, turning around only so far as she needed to to see him.
“I want to help you, Miss Fukawa.” Komaeda pulled his bag around in front of him, opened it, and started rummaging inside, “I noticed you hadn’t made any progress with Komaru. I know I’m not anyone to judge how an Ultimate goes about achieving their goals, but I thought you could maybe use some assistance.”
From the bag, he pulled out a piece of simple, white, printer paper, folded neatly into three to politely hide its contents.
Toko hesitated, in much the same way someone being handed a dead rat may hesitate to accept it. But Komaeda’s unblinking stare was as unnerving as it was persistent. Touching as little of the paper as she could, she accepted the letter.
She opened it, half expecting a ransom note. She didn’t know how to break it to him that, despite what it may seem, she was not exceedingly rich, and unfortunately, the ones who did have access to that money would not be swayed by her being tortured or killed.
It wasn’t a ransom note, but what lay inside was just as off-putting and menacing.
It was a list. Categorised into sections and bullet pointed. It was a list of seemingly arbitrary items, activities, shops, restaurants, movies, books, even more, all with no coherent purpose. It was printed in black ink and arragned purposefully in the dead centre of the page, nearly clinical in its presentation.
She looked up at Komaeda, searching for an explanation. She found nothing but his bright, easy-going smile, his eyes sparkling as Toko read the letter. For a second, the image of a knife stabbing at her through a shower curtain while violins yelped a painful trill came to the forefront of her mind.
She leaned back a little, holding the paper even less enthusiastically, “...What is this?”
“I call it the ‘Normal Girl Inventory’!” Komaeda chirped, “Think of it as an itemised list of all things Komaru…Well…Because that’s exactly what it is!” He laughed to himself, then crowded her. She stiffened at his approach, but he didn’t notice or care. He ran his finger down the list, pointing at the appropriate sections as he explained, “I’ve detailed all her favourite things, her favourite hobbies, her favourite places to eat and visit. Everything you’d need to get the ball rolling!” Komaeda smiled brightly, his eyes searching hers for a response. From the anticipation shining in his eyes, she figured he was waiting for praise. Toko hoped he was willing to wait for a very, very long time. He backed away, laughing breezily and waving a humble hand through the air dismissively, “No need to thank me-”
Toko dropped the list like it was dirty. To her, it kind of was, “S-Save it.” She deadpanned, then turned around, “I don’t want your creepy list, you stalker.”
She heard Komaeda scramble, “Oh, but-!”
“I’m not doing that stupid bet anymore!”
She’d thought the certainty in her tone left no room for argument. Komaeda, as skinny as he was, found room anyway.
“But, why?” When Toko didn’t respond, because why would she , he sighed, “Oh, how disappointing …”
Toko rolled her eyes, grumbled, “Whatever.” And continued to make her way back to her dorm room, where she should’ve been 10 minutes ago. She needed tea, or coffee, or if she had access to it, something stronger would also work. Unfortunately, she had no mothers to steal off of here. It was perhaps the only unfortunate thing about not being around those cows anymore.
“I wonder how Master Togami would feel about this.”
She stopped, and immediately hated herself for it. Even just that small fault left Komaeda far too much room to keep talking. Toko was slowly realising that that was the worst thing you could do when dealing with this guy.
“To have someone give up on him so quickly…” He sighed, dramatic and unnecessarily long, “It’s just a shame, I suppose. There was so much potential there and now it’s gone.”
Toko scoffed, swinging around to face him, “Potential for what? Me to make a fool out of myself?”
“Well, if you could conquer this together, you could do anything, right?” Toko’s sceptical stare didn’t waver. He smiled, and on anyone else, she’d call it trustworthy, “Surely Master Togami knows about your situation, how difficult it is for you to make friends, to just talk to people your own age…” He contemplated it for a moment, then nodded, “Yes, I’m sure of it. This definitely seems like a test to me.”
Toko narrowed her eyes, “...A test?”
“If you could do something this difficult, brave such uncharted territory, all in the name of his love…I can’t think of a better show of devotion!” He shrugged, “Plus, I’m sure it’s his round-about way of helping you. I bet he’s worried.
Toko fiddled with her braid, watched it run between her fingers, “Worried?”
“I just thought this was his way of making sure you were safe when he wasn’t around.” Komaeda explained, he began to pace, circling Toko as he pondered aloud, “All those business trips…You’ll be alone with the children a lot. Surely it makes sense, from his point of view, to have someone else there to help you when he can’t. A trusted friend, someone who he knows can help you carry that load, who isn’t expecting any sort of pay or reimbursement. Well, that just makes business sense, right?”
She didn’t want to listen to him. She knew, even, that she shouldn’t take anything he had to say seriously. Everything about this man screamed a red flag. She’d seen less sketchy used car dealers. They shined the same, bright, toothy smile at their gullible customers.
Still, even as she fought, his words settled into her head, snug and comfortable. It was easy, with how sweetly he said it.
Toko leaned away, hunching her shoulders protectively, “W-What the hell would you know about that stuff anyway?”
Komaeda halted. Toko could imagine a buffering symbol spinning over his face. Then, he caught up, and sighed, folded arms, head tilted sadly. The whole nine yards.
“I suppose you're right.” He drawled, sounding like a kicked puppy, “Who am I to second guess the wills of an Ultimate? I’m sure you know best.” He sighed again. Toko grit her teeth. “No, Master Togami would never want to date someone who gives up at the first sign of trouble, anyway. Master Togami is better suited with someone a lot more hopeful than this. You need to be resilient in the face of all obstacles to make someone like Master Togami happy.” It was stupid. Wholly and truly. But Toko genuinely felt reprimanded. He sighed. Again. His whole body dropped with the breath, sinking down into something sopping wet and snivelling, “I’m so disappointed. I really thought this was going to be something beautiful.” He folded the list and waved it dismissively, “I guess I’ll just take this list and go-”
In this moment, she felt a bit of sympathy for Eve in the Garden of Eden.
“G-Give me that.”
Just like that original, stupid sin, she snatched the list out of Komaeda’s offering hand.
Komaeda feigned surprise, “Oh, but I thought-”
“Shut the fuck up.” Toko stormed away, the paper crunching into creased folds in her tight fist.
“Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Fukawa.”
Toko didn’t turn around, and when she left the alley, the sun blinded her.
–
Toko glanced around the corner, then shot back, as if she may be caught in her snooping even though no one was there. She sucked in a breath and leaned around the corner once more.
The school she lurked across from was a school just like any other. It was a nicer school though. A bit more on the expensive end. It revealed enough about Naegi’s lifestyle that she bit her thumb and cursed him a little harder than usual under her breath. The tall main building was white stone and flanked on either side by two wings that curved around a centre court. The clock on the centre tower read five to three. Toko chewed her lip.
This was weird. This was really, really weird. How the hell was she going to pull this off? Even with all her endless experience forming stories, she couldn’t think of one that wouldn’t smell incredibly fishy from the word go. This school wasn’t anywhere near Hope’s Peak where she could be just casually walking past and happen to see Komaru. There was nothing this way that Toko even knew about to pretend she was walking to. For the first time, she cursed her isolated lifestyle. If she just went outside more, this wouldn’t be an issue. The issue of what to even say to Komaru would also be smoothed out if she had even the slightest idea what she was doing. It's not even like they talked all that much at the party, and it had been a whole, silent, contactless month since then.
The clock chimed, calling the hour. Toko held out. Five minutes passed, then ten, and the skin around her thumbnail only got redder. The first wave of students started trickling out of the gates, brown uniforms slightly rumpled from the day. Middle school uniforms, specifically.
Toko glanced down at her high school uniform. So very obviously high school, as it was the famous, instantly recognisable uniform of Hope’s Peak Academy.
She couldn’t be here. She was a freak; a massive freak. The only reason she’d avoid a prison sentence at this point would be pleading Not Guilty for Reasons of Insanity for what her other half had done. But even she couldn’t do this. It was just too embarrassing.
She rounded the corner onto a main street, a little busier than the last. She leaned against the corner of a building. Maybe if she met her here instead, it’d be less weird. Or maybe…
The list weighed heavily in her bag.
She’d looked at it once. One time. Right after she’d returned to her room, if only just to internally scorn Komaeda for exactly how much of a freak he would have to be to even get half of the information on there. Seriously, Toko felt like she needed to report it to someone. That guy was not safe to be just walking the streets like this, and that was coming from her!
It seriously did have everything. She’d become more and more unnerved, but also, scarily, more intrigued the more she read. It was a bit thrilling, like a shortcut into a closeness she’d never managed to get with anyone before on her own. She’d been sucked in, her vivid imagination running rampent over the smallest details as she constructed in her head her own version of Komaru, creating her own opinions on a girl she’d only spoken to once.
When she’d got to the section labelled “Hopes and Dreams” she stopped. Suddenly dragged out of her focus as she took in what she had just been doing. The crumbled paper and its neatly printed ink stared up at her accusingly. She shoved the list deep into her bag and refused to acknowledge it ever again.
How did she even know Komaeda hadn’t made that stuff up anyway just to make fun of her? There was only one way to check.
Hence, her stalking. The thought made her groan, but she couldn’t deny it. She’d done it enough on purpose to know when she was doing it by accident. If this could even be counted as that.
She needed another in. But what?
A voice cut through her thinking. At first, she didn’t know why, but as the conversation got closer, and the voice responded again, recognition tickled ominously in the back of her mind. She slowly peaked around the corner, hugging as tight against it as possible. Peaking around the the corner, cemented her creeping worry as reality.
Komaru.
Shit. Shit. SHIT.
She wasn’t prepared. She couldn’t do this.
The conversation got closer.
Toko blindly scrambled into the building she was leaning against, tumbling through the door and pushing it closed behind her, fighting against the soft close mechanism that stopped the glass door from slamming shut. It closed and she dragged in anxious breaths, backing further away into the store.
The weight of eyes on her raised her heckles even further. She looked over her shoulder, and her stomach dropped.
A clean, long, slick white counter sat towards the back of the shop, resting at hip level with shiny machines sitting on top of it. The floors were wooden and mopped clean to a muted shine, and the bland colour of the walls was offset by the funky coloured prints and scenic photos they had dotted artfully around the place, giving it an interesting character without being overwhelming. Pop music played over the speakers, just loud enough to be heard, but when a barista started steaming some milk, the roaring gush drowned it out completely. Students and salarymen and stylish women sat around small, round tables, cups in hand and cakes between them to be shared, and all of them, including the young girl behind the counter, were staring at her in shock.
“C-Can I help you, Miss?” The server stuttered.
Toko felt sweat drenching her armpits. She prayed it would be absorbed by her shirt and not show through her blazer.
“Uh-”
The bell above the door chimed, a cute, electronic jingle, as the door swung open. The girl’s laughter entered before they did. Their conversation died as the door swung slowly shut behind them.
Toko stiffened.
“Isn’t that Hope’s Peak’s uniform?” A girl whispered,
“Yeah, it is…Wait a minute-”
Fuck her stupid little life. Genuinely.
“Fukawa?”
Toko stiffly turned around,
“Oh…H-Hey, 'Omaru.” She swallowed, “W-Why are you here?”
She could’ve slapped herself. Was it really so hard for her to be normal?
Komaru, in all her air-headness, didn’t even notice the rudeness of her response. She dashed towards her, like if she got closer she’d realise she was wrong or that Toko would just disappear completely. Too bad for her. If she’d figured out how to do that she would’ve done it by now.
“Oh my God! I haven’t seen you since that party! How have you been?”
Toko wasn’t one to be lost for words, considering her profession, but the excited, downright happy way Komaru addressed her left her stunned. All she could do was quickly try and figure out what the hell Komaru’s issue was, what she wanted for her, and why she was being so fake.
Her friend shuffled forwards, shyly clutching her bag as she leaned into her, “Komaru, you know her?”
“She’s in my brother’s class.” Komaru answered breezily.
Her friend’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping into a round, shocked ‘o’. She stepped forwards, that unnecessarily excited expression now aimed at Toko, “Oh woah! So, you’re, like, really an Ultimate?”
Toko bit her tongue. A snarky response at the tip of it that she nearly couldn’t hold back, but Komaru answered for her, which was honestly just as frustrating.
“For sure she is!” She answered confidently, standing next to Toko and showing her off like she was a new model of an expensive car. “She’s the Ultimate Writing Prodigy! You know that book I was telling you about last summer, the one with the fisherman?”
“Woah yeah! My mum loved that one, she kept telling me to read it!” The girl gasped, then pointed at Toko, “Wait, you wrote that?!” Before she could respond, she moved on, smiling slyly at Komaru, “Wow Komaru, you have some impressive connections. Don’t forget me when you’re famous!”
The girls laughed and squealed and pushed at each other as they continued to joke and play. Toko may as well have not been there. She couldn’t even have her own fame without someone stealing it.
Their childish tomfoolery wandered them closer to the server standing behind the till. She’d watched the whole exchange with a smile that was perfectly crafted for a politeness that hid her real frustrations neatly away.
“Come on, I have to get to prep school. If I’m late again my mum will kill me, like, literally. ” Komaru’s friend tugged her forwards, then began listing off her order to the underpaid worker waiting for them.
Toko didn’t move. She stood, hunched over in her spot in the middle of the cafe, and tried to quickly decide when exactly she should run and make a break for it.
Then again, if her friend was leaving, perhaps she could work with this. Determination, dedication, perseverance. These were the types of traits she needed if she was going to be a good wife for Togami. She needed to start here. She just needed to bear through this encounter long enough so that she could get Komaru’s contact info, and she could come back stronger, better equipped, and end this stupid game once and for all.
These facts were all well and good. The facts didn’t stop the gurgling, tight nausea in her stomach that made her wonder if coffee was really such a good idea right now, even if it helped in the longrun. As it stood, making that trek from where she’d rooted herself under the stare of the cafe goers and baristas felt like a jump from a cliff into the dark.
“Fukawa, are you going to order anything?”
“Uh…I-” Toko swallowed, tightened her fist and gave in, “Ugh, whatever.” She shuffled forwards and looked at the menu that Komaru had passed to her, and suddenly, Japanese meant nothing to her. Komaru and her friend had ordered at this point, and the server was staring at her expectantly.
None of these stupid names meant anything to her. Pear and chestnut flavoured drinks, and what the hell did pumpkin spice even mean ? How was that a flavour?
Her grip on the menu tightened. She just wanted to order something quickly, but nothing on this menu looked appealing or made any sense to her. What the fuck happened to just a flat white, or god forbid, a simple earl grey?
“Miss, are you ready to order yet?”
Stupid fucking impatient bitch-
“Uh…Why don’t you have the same as me, Fukawa!” Komaru interjected. Toko looked at her skeptically, but her smile only brightened, “It’s so good, trust me you’ll love it!”
The barista’s polite smile was stiff at the edges, but she entered the drink into the screen in front of her, then drawled out the final price, something much higher than Toko expected. She grumbled, and threw the money into the change plate, then snatched the receipt that was placed there in exchange.
The wait for the drinks was short, but unbearable. Komaru and her friend awkwardly made conversation, but Toko could tell her presence was disturbing them. People always tried to hide it, but they never hid it well enough. Not that she cared. They interacted with her . She would’ve happily left without any of this happening.
That feeling didn’t leave once she got her drink. She held the thing in her hand, so much heavier than a drink it’s size had any right to be. It was thick and blended, with cold wet condensation slicking the plastic cup it sat in, an inch underfilled from the top that made the sting of how much it cost burn even harder. It was brightly coloured, unnatrually so. It made Toko think of jungle frogs. Its colour must be a defensive warning of the poison she was holding in her hands.
“What the fuck is this?”
“Just try it! Trust me, it’s so good. There’s no way you won't like it!”
Toko winced, then remembered how much she paid for it, and figured that even being poisoned would be better than throwing that money down the drain even more than she already had by buying the stupid drink. She brought the drink up and took a small tentative sip.
She instantly regretted it. She swallowed it forcefully, just to stop her from spitting it up immediately. She fought it the whole way down, wincing against the cold, thick ice stabbing through her chest until it hit her stomach.
“T-This is just sugar!” She struggled to get even that much out. She swallowed again, then coughed, “It doesn’t even taste of anything! You seriously drink this garbage?!”
Komaru scoffed, the hand that wasn’t holding her drink on her hip, “Well sorry I can’t stomach a jet-black cup of oil!”
“T-That stuff isn’t any better! It’s for pretentious, try-hard, pricks who think they’re better than people just because they like t-torturing themselves for the sake of other people’s opinions!”
“It’s not like we forced you to get what we had…” Komaru’s friend murmured, taking a quiet sip of her own blended heart attack.
“Ugh, it’s just so p-predictable for girls like you…”
The two of them stared at her. Komaru had a strange expression on her face, one she was doing a bad job at hiding. Her friend, on the other hand, wasn’t even trying, her expression deadpan and obviously bothered, Her plucked eyebrows raised in an unapproving arch. Toko picked at her hangnails and waited for…Something.
“...Well.” Komaru’s friend said with a loud pop of her lips. She moved towards the door, “I have to get going. Coming, Komaru?”
Komaru shook her head, “Nah, don’t worry. Go on without me.”
The girl’s steps faltered. Toko couldn’t blame her, she was just as shocked.
“Eh, seriously?”
“I’ll text you later, yeah?”
Her friend stared at her, then to Toko, then back again, before she slowly brought the paper straw of her drink between her lips.
“O kay …” She said warily around it. “…Nice to meet you, senpai.” She made a poor attempt at a bow. Then, the last Toko heard of her was the sound of the bell singing at her departure.
Toko leaned away from Komaru a bit, looking her up and down suspiciously. “...W-Why didn’t you go with her?”
Komaru shrugged, and said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Because I wanted to hang out with you.”
Toko waited for the punchline, or maybe an actual, physical punch. Neither arrived.
She was serious. She couldn’t be serious. She wanted to call her out on her obvious bullshit and leave before she embarrassed herself any further, but she couldn’t. This kind of what Toko wanted and needed to happen in the first place. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, as they say. But it didn’t mean she was going to let her guard down.
Komaru led them to a table at the back of the cafe by the floor to ceiling windows that made up the front of the building.
“You…Haven’t been in a cafe before, have you?” Komaru asked carefully as they sat at the small, faux marble round table.
Toko grit her teeth, “O-Of course I’ve been in a cafe. What, do you think I l-live under a r-rock or something? Like some g-gross, ugly worm?! Is that what you think?! You think I’m a worm?!”
Komaru ripped the straw of the drink out of her mouth, “No! Not at all! You’re, like, way too big to be a worm!”
“Are you calling me fat?!”
“I think we can both agree there’s no way anyone could consider you fat, Fukawa.”
“What, so now I’m too skinny?! Is that it?!”
“Is there such a thing?” Komaru groaned then flung her arms out in exasperation, “ Jeez! You’re so quick to jump to conclusions! It must be all those stories you write...” Something about that last bit, it was said a bit differently, a bit heavier than the rest. Toko narrowed her eyes, but Komaru didn’t expand. She just took a sip of her drink, swallowed, then gave her a small, nervous smile. “You know, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” Toko froze. Komaru pushed her hair behind her ear, and avoided her gaze, “I didn’t mean to make you feel obligated or whatever. You can just go, it’s fine. I won’t mind.”
Toko tugged on her braid. It would be so easy to leave. There was nothing she wanted more. Everything in her body screamed for it.
Determination. Dedication. Perseverance.
She sighed, then grumbled, “Ugh…No. It’s fine. Whatever.”
Komaru winced, “You’re not being very encouraging.”
“Just… Ugh. ” Toko slumped into the uncomfortable, metal back of the seat, her arms folded as she glared out the window, “W-Why the hell would I waste my time and money on this stupid shit? This place is for self-absorbed girls to just m-mindlessly show off how pretty they are to other mindless people who will never do anything important with their lives because they’re too busy posting stupid photos of disgusting drinks like this -” She picked up the offending item and shook it before dropping it back onto the table, “-On vanity stroking social media sites like Instagram for a false sense of superiority over everyone else who blindly follows them. It’s pointless and frivolous and so totally below me.”
Komaru could do nothing in the wake of her rant but stare, wide eyed and dull.
Shit . She got carried away again. God what was wrong with her?!
She waited for Komaru to burst. To shout at her and scold her and storm off, never talk to her again, and Toko would be forced to watch as her biggest chance of finally proving herself to her Master disappeared, the bridge collapsing as Komaru walked over it.
But Komaru didn’t move. Instead, she popped her straw out of her mouth and drawled, “ Wow. Tell me how you really feel.”
…That’s it?
Toko changed her previous question. What the hell was wrong with Komaru?
Komaru, still apparently entirely unaffected by Toko’s verbal battering, just rolled her eyes and folded her arms, “Okay, so if you’re ‘ too cool ’ for a cafe then…” She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, “Why were you in here?”
Toko felt the heat of the interrogation light on her. She hoped how stiff she got at the question didn’t show. “...T-That’s none of your business…”
Komaru raised an eyebrow, “Oh okay, going for the mysterious angle too, huh?” She leaned forwards on her arms onto the table, “You know, I would’ve thought a writer like you would live in places like this.”
“Why?”
Komaru shrugged, then looked around the room as she explained, “Coffee, atmosphere, free internet. Isn’t it just the perfect environment to let your imagination flow? I feel so focused in places like this, and I always think people typing away on their laptops look so cool and scholarly. Like, it always gets my brain going, ya know? Like, what are you writing?”
“M-Maybe for some people…” Toko twisted her braid and stared at the folds in her skirt, “But…I-I can’t stand places like this…It’s not like anyone else here wants me here either. I stick out like a s-sore thumb. Just feels like everyone’s staring at me, wondering why the hell some ugly girl like me thinks I can just h-hang around here so boldly. It’s like they’re just w-waiting for me to leave so they can laugh about me behind my back.”
Only when she finished, and there was nothing but silence left, did she realise what she’d even just said. Shame swept over her, hot and heavy. She took a sip of the drink again just to do something with her hands. Where did that come from? Why the hell was she even saying all that? That wasn’t necessary at all.
Komaru also seemed to think as much. She stared at her like she had 3 heads. Toko imagined clawing the skin off of her face. It almost helped.
“...Wow.” Komaru said eventually. Blinking slowly as she took it all in. “That was…a lot .” Toko never wanted a truck to hit a building more than she did right now. Hopefully, it’d hit her directly. Or Komaru. Hopefully Komaru. “Those are some serious self-esteem issues you got there.”
Toko bristled, “W-Whatever! Not like I expect some normal, preppy girl like you to understand.”
Komaru’s gaze drifted outside. “Hm…I guess you’re right there. I never have felt like that.” Toko grumbled a groan and bit her straw until it flattened. “Actually…Maybe not exactly that. But I suppose I sorta understand.” Komaru started again, a little more vulnerable, an awkward smile peeking at the edges of her lips, “I always feel really cool sitting in places like these…The girls here are all so pretty you know? Like you always see pretty, cool girls sitting with their friends in cafe’s, right? So, when I sit in a cafe too I think, you know, maybe I could be just as cool and pretty as those girls are.” Komaru gave a single shoulder shrug, and her smile stopped hiding, “Plus, I just think it’s fun! I like the drinks and it's such a good place for a deep convo, you know?”
“Deep convo? ”
“Like the one we’re having now! See they just sorta, like, happen!”
Toko scoffed, “This ‘convo’ is about as deep as a puddle.”
Komaru just rolled her eyes. Then something more serious, more determined grew tightly over her expression. She faced Toko with a stern passion that made her extremely apprehensive. And for good reason, it seemed. Next thing she knew, Komaru was reaching across the table and grabbing Toko’s hand with both of her own. Toko almost flew out of her seat.
“H-Hey! I-I-I’m not some e-easy girl who g-gives out on the first date, you know?”
Komaru wasn’t fazed by her panicking, she just leaned further forwards, tightened her grip on her hand. “You told me something about you, so I’ll repay the favour.”
Toko was sweating so much. It couldn’t be normal to sweat this much. Komaru’s soft hands still held hers. Each millimetre of contact, of skin brushing against skin, felt amplified. She couldn’t focus on anything else. Her entire existence suddenly shrunk down to the space where their hands connected. A claustrophobic and hot existence. Toko almost didn’t hear her over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.
“This is a bit embarrassing but…”
Get on with it so you can let me go!
With scrunched up eyes and a tense posture, Komaru confessed, loud enough for the whole cafe to hear, “I’ve always wanted to be a mangaka! ”
Toko stared at her. And stared at her. Suddenly, she couldn’t feel the hand in hers all that much anymore. A cold, seeping dread dripped over her, plicking into her stomach.
No. NO.
Anything but this!
What was Toko’s life? Why was Toko’s life? What the hell did her past self do that was so bad that she needed to be subjected to this miserable, pathetic existence?! Hadn’t she suffered enough!? When did this end?!
Not yet, it seemed. Komaru, completely unaware of the catastrophic bombshell she just lobbed onto Toko’s head, continued to make things worse.
“I-I love manga. I love reading them. I love connecting to the stories they tell, and the community that builds up around them. I just…Want to be the one to make that community one day. I want to tell a story that other girls like me can connect to and understand, the way other mangaka have done for me.”
A thousand things rushed to Toko’s mind to reply to that. A thousand harsh, horrible, scalding comments that would instantly shut this whole conversation down. They tickled the tip of her tongue like chilli oil.
Any other time, she wouldn’t have hesitated a second. Any other situation, any other person, she would’ve told them then and there, no holds barred, exactly how she felt about such a stupid, ridiculous, brain-breakingly awful dream. She’d make it harsh enough that the person would either reconsider entirely, or never speak to her again, and make her life just a little brighter than it had been with them in it.
Any other situation. Not this one.
Determination. Dedication. Perseverance.
Toko gulped down the mob of insults barging against her lips, and instead asked meekly,
“W-Why are you telling me this?”
“Because!” She said it like her meaning was glaringly obvious, but her bravado quickly waned, “Because…” Her shoulders slumped forward, and she finally let go of Toko’s hand. Relief released the tension in her body. Her hand felt itchy. She clenched it into a fist. Komaru didn’t seem to be in any sort of similar state. She itched her cheek, avoided Toko’s eye contact, and admitted, “I-I really have no idea where to start.”
“Huh?! W-What do you mean?!”
“I mean what I mean!” She shouted, and Toko flinched at how loud she got. Her reaction held a mirror up to Komaru, and she shrunk back a little, and continued quietly, “I really don’t know where to start.”
“W-Well…” Toko scoured her brain for something to say. “C-Can you draw?”
Komaru opened her mouth to reply, then slowly closed it, and drew shapes on the table with the water that had dripped off her cup.
Toko’s hands, in contrast, smacked on top of the table in alarm.
“A-Are you kidding me ?!”
Komaru’s full, round cheeks tinted apple red, and she spluttered, “W-Well the art is secondary, right? Some great mangaka’s couldn’t draw when they started. Look at ONE !”
“I don’t know who that is and I don’t care. If you can’t draw, how the hell do you expect people to want to read your manga?!”
“W-Well, I mean, of course it’s a process! I’ll get there one day; I just need to practise!”
“Well duh! ” Toko exclaimed, flinging her hands out before they dropped heavily next to her. She sank down deeper into her seat, then pushed her forehead into her hand, her elbow on the table, “Jesus, a mangaka who can’t draw. The only selling point manga has is its art.”
“Well, that…And the writing.”
“Hmgh-” Toko bit her tongue. She bit it hard. There was so much wrong with what Komaru had just said, but she held it all back. It was so much. Too much. She almost felt like she was about to explode.
“And…” Komaru shyly played with her fingers in front of her, glancing up at her with a small, sheepish smile. “That’s sort of why I brought it up.”
“What?”
Komaru took a breath, braced herself, then admitted, “I want you to teach me.” She grabbed her hand again. Toko flinched back in her seat. Komaru bowed her head, and pleaded, “ Please teach me how to write a story! ”
“Y-You-!” A firm and crass rejection is right on the tip of her tongue. What the hell. What the hell. This was becoming way too out of hand. She didn’t sign up for any of this. She didn’t want it to be anything like this. Tutor her? In writing? “A-Absolutely not!”
The hope dropped out of Komaru’s face like a two-tonne bag of bricks off a cliff, “Aw what?! Really?! Come on, please?”
“N-No! J-Just for so many reasons, no! ”
“Pretty please! Please! Please! Please! ”
“S-SHUT UP!” Toko slammed her fists on the table. Komaru’s half empty drink shifted with the force of it. “T-That’s just making me want to say no more!”
Komaru groaned in despair and slumped backwards in her chair, “And I was so vulnerable with you just now, admitting that dream to you! You’re so cruel!”
“N-No one asked you to do that! D-Don’t blame me for your own m-mistakes!”
Komaru pouted harder, staring her down. Toko didn’t relent. It was not having the effect Komaru thought it was. She huffed a short, disappointed breath, then conceded. “…Fine.”
Toko grumbled, stabbing at the godforsaken tub of sugar and ice that slowly melted in front of her. She hoped that was the end of the discussion.
“But-”
Toko needed to stop hoping.
“Give me your number.” Komaru asked with a cheeky smirk, “ Just in case you change your mind.”
Oh, yeah.
She’d almost forgotten that that was why she was even here in the first place. She shifted in her seat. It was stupid, but even though this was the outcome she’d been planning for, it actually happening to her, without her intervention, was a little…
She pushed down the happiness that tickled in her heart. It didn’t mean anything, not anything like that. It was just a means to an end. Komaru only wanted her number because she wanted something from her. It wasn’t anything like that.
Toko twiddled her braid, her knees knocking together under her skirt, “F-Fine.” she mumbled.
“Yay!” Komaru cheered, quickly whipping out her phone. It was a trendy flip phone, with a single, small charm dangling from the joint. It made her hesitate even more in pulling out her own. An old, small touchscreen with a crack that she’d been meaning to get replaced for the last couple months. She hid it away with both of her hands. Komaru didn’t say anything, she hit a few quick taps on her keypad, then turned her bright eyes back up to Toko and she flinched, “Do you have LINE?” she asked.
Toko hunched her shoulders, pulling her phone closer to her chest, “N-No…”
“Huh? Then what do you use to talk to your classmates?”
“S-Stop asking such embarrassing questions when the answer is so obvious!” Toko snapped, a heat in her cheeks she knew was blotching them ugly red. The feeling of it only made it worse. “N-Now who’s c-cold hearted…”
“S-Sorry! Sorry! My bad.” She tapped her fingers absentmindedly on her phone. The silence made Toko itch. Then, she gave her a look out the side of her eye, “But…Seriously? Not even Makoto?”
Toko’s face flushed darker, she sweated harder, “S-Shut up! Do you want my number or not?!”
“Hmph.” Komaru slumped back with a pout. Then, she sat up straight and huffed again, “Well, they don’t know what they’re missing.”
“I-I think the problem is that they do.”
Komaru shrugged, a self-righteous air about her, “People are wrong about things all the time.”
Toko withered, ‘ That could still extend to you right now, stupid.’ she thought.
The pain of the interaction, thankfully, finally, ended there. They swapped numbers instead, resolving to text the old-fashioned way. Then, with no other reason to stay, and Komaru moaning about a chunk of homework and reading that she needed to do, they decided to call it.
Komaru took one last long sip of her drink before tossing it into the bin. It encouraged Toko, subconsciously, to copy her, and take one more sip of her own blended death sentence.
“Ugh, is this seriously your favourite drink? It’s way too sweet.”
Komaru hesitated, “...Well, I dunno, it’s just what I always get. I didn’t know what I liked, so I just got the same as what my friend got, and I liked it so I didn’t really think much about it after that.”
Toko narrowed her eyes. “Well, why not try something else?”
Komaru stopped. She glanced at the menu behind the bar, a small board only advertising the month’s specials. She chewed her lip, then turned back to Toko, “...What’s your favourite drink?”
“N-No! Stupid, that’s just doing the exact same thing again!”
Komaru twisted her lip, then giggled, “I suppose you’re right.” Toko rolled her eyes. Of course she was right. She couldn’t believe Komaru hadn’t thought about this herself. Did she think for herself at all? She wondered what it must be like to live life as such an airhead. It must’ve been so relaxing.
Toko snapped out of her mental scorning when Komaru smiled at her brightly out of nowhere,
“Fine. Next time we come here, I’ll try something new! If you promise to try something new too.”
Toko’s thoughts tripped over themselves. She processed the sentence, then once more, just to be sure she’d actually heard her right. Her hand went slack, and the drink almost slipped completely out of her hand, before she gripped it more harshly than before,
“N-Next time?!”
“Sure, why not?”
She said it so easily, so genuinely, like it would be more confusing for her to think of reasons they shouldn’t meet up again. There wasn’t a hint of insincerity in her clear, green eyes. Toko searched for it, hard. She couldn’t believe it. She could hear the phantoms of Komaru laughing at her. She almost made up the snide look in her eyes, just for the comfort of it. But it didn’t last. It couldn’t. Not when she was looking at her like that.
“...I-” She swallowed, fiddled with her glasses, even though they were sitting comfortably on her face, and mumbled, “F-Fine.”
Komaru glowed. Actually glowed. Toko felt blinded, something warm blossoming inside her that made her sweat.
“B-But you’re paying.” Toko spat before pushing past Komaru, making a beeline for the door.
“Hey!” Komaru shouted, and it was the last she heard before she had escaped completely.
She was halfway down the street when she realised she was still holding the stupid, colourful drink. It was getting murky now, the ice inside it melting, separating from the rest of the drink with a thin, dark layer at the bottom and the icy mush sitting on top. The cream and sprinkles had melted, sinking pathetically into itself. Something, perhaps the price of the drink, compelled her to try again. She stirred it with the now limp straw, and it slowly brought itself back to life, not like it was before but still, something more appealing. Toko took a sip. Then, took another. And then another, longer, bigger. It was still way too sugary sweet. But the more she drank it, the more it grew on her.
‘Maybe’, she thought, ‘It wasn’t all that bad after all.’
Notes:
i love fanfiction. so much. i can write whatever i want. i can make my wildest dreams come true, such as kicking nagito komaeda in the dick <3
the ball is finally rolling ! its tokomaru ridiculousness from here on out ! Thank u everyone for your comments they all make me so so so sooo happy!!
Chapter 4
Notes:
Trigger warning for mentions of past self-harm by Toko in the first few paragraphs.
Song for this chapter : You, Me and Steve- Garfunkle and Oates
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
From high up on the bleachers, Toko could almost have borne sitting through this class swimming session. Unfortunately, high up on the bleachers was also where the noise echoed the most, and Toko wasn’t high up enough for it to not be entirely grating.
She hugged her legs together a little tighter, her shoulders rising just a little higher. For perhaps the 20th time in this 5-minute period, she nervously glanced down at her thighs and contemplated which was more embarrassing; not swimming because she was terrified of the water, or not swimming because she didn’t want her classmates seeing the cuts on her thighs. She adjusted the edge of the sports shorts she was wearing over her school bather so they sat a little further down her legs than they already did. There was nothing on show, but they were just short enough to make her anxious about a fatal slip up. At least none of them were fresh this time. But she figured that, to normal people, that probably wouldn’t make a difference.
There was a particularly big splash, and Toko resented the way she bodily flinched at the sound of it. Everyone in the pool laughed and cheered. Toko, alone on the bleachers, grumbled with discontent, and adjusted her shorts again.
She’d been so stuck in her own head that she didn’t notice Celestia walking up to her until she sat down a seat away from her.
“You know, I didn’t expect a miracle here, but I still feel like this is taking much longer than it should do.”
“Look, you’ve already sent your attack chihuahua on me, okay? I got the message. You can quit the harassment; I’m doing my best here.”
“Chihuahua?” Celestia stretched the word like it was the first time she was saying it.
“D-Don’t act dumb. I know e-exactly what you two are doing. A-And I won't fall for it. I’m doing this for my own reasons.”
Celestia stared at her. Toko could feel her eyes burning into the side of her face. Her body coiled tenser. Realisation struck Celestia, and she giggled demurely,
“I have nothing to do with Nagito Komaeda. In fact, from what I’ve heard, he hasn’t even been in school since the start of term. How unfortunate that you still managed to have a conversation with him.”
“I don’t care!” Toko snapped, “This is harder than it seems, you know?”
“Well, what exactly have you tried?”
Toko pulled on her braid, “Well, I-I asked her at the party.”
“That was months ago. What since?” Toko turned further away from her. Celestia sucked her teeth, “And you say you’re trying. It’s quite pathetic. If I wasn’t so involved, I’d almost think it was funny.”
“I got her number, okay?! I’m just b-biding my time.”
“Time, Fukawa, is money.”
“Well, what do you want me to do, force myself on her?!”
“Not at all. Togami would never accept that as a proper win.” Celestia picked a piece of lint off the black lace on her skirt, “You need to create opportunities for it to happen.”
“How?”
Celestia’s jaw tensed, and her small, dollish smile went tight, “Fukawa, I refuse to believe you are that dense. Don’t make an idiot out of me for that.” Toko didn’t respond to that. She wasn’t certain how to, anything seemed like the wrong answer. Turns out, she was right, because saying nothing at all was the worst answer she could’ve given, “You hang out with her! You exist around her! You get her comfortable enough around you that she may suddenly become deluded enough to consider such a thing! You know, become her friend?”
Toko pinched her nails into the thin flesh of her crossed arms, “O-Oh yeah, because it’s t-that simple!”
Celestia silently fumed, a rage filling her that made her tremble a little where she sat. Toko rolled her eyes and chewed the nail on her index finger. With a deep sigh, and a few more seconds to compose herself, Celestia stood, “Well, I’ve done my part. I’ve given you more advice than I care to in the first place. Figure it out.” That was that. Celestia walked away to sit three rows down on the other side of the rafters away from her.
She thought it over throughout the rest of the day, right up until the lunch bell rang and her classroom began to come alive again, people returning from classes outside of the ones held in their home room to collect their friends. Of high demand, as usual, was Makoto Naegi. He blushed as Maizono laughed at something he said, then pouted as Asahina teased him. Today, Ishimaru sat as a stiff but attentive final addition to their trio, looking the part of a boy ready to take an exam he was only half prepared for. It must’ve been a novel feeling for him. She’d bet Ishimaru had never in his life experienced that type of despair. She gripped her hands together on her desk.
If someone could even manage to make friends with a stiff, two-dimensional, annoying boy like Ishimaru, then surely, he could make friends with anybody.
“Just, be yourself.” Naegi answered, seemingly without any sort of consideration towards how little sense that made. They were standing out in the hallway after Toko pulled him away from his freaky little friendship circle
“A-Are you making fun of me?” Toko sneered.
“No, Fukawa.” He sounded tired, but also like he was trying to hide it. “I really mean it!” Toko grumbled, and Naegi didn’t back down, “Seriously!”
He really, actually wasn’t taking her seriously at all. God, he was such an arsehole.
Toko gripped her head, nails digging into her scalp, “T-That’s so easy for you to say! Y-You don’t understand a-anything at all!” Toko yelled a groan and flung herself around, “Ugh! Whatever, I knew this was hopeless. Thanks for nothing.”
Naegi was her best bet. With that option failed, she referred to the second most embarrassing option and googled it.
‘Learn what kind of hobbies and things they like and see if it matches up with any of yours.’
Unlikely, considering Komaru had the literary palette of an imbecilic pre-teen.
‘Hang around in the same places as them and strike up a conversation!’
Tried that already. She was not resorting to stalking for a second time with this bullshit. Not if she could help it.
Toko scrolled. Her mouse hovered over the next entry on the forum. She stared at the message, and the mouse shook.
‘Just be yourself!’
No one had exited out of a browser window with as much ire as Toko did in that moment. The only thing stopping her from putting a fist through the screen in frustration was the idea that if she did it and it didn’t break, she’d probably lose control of everything with how intense the embarrassment would be at everyone in the library witnessing something so pathetic. She couldn’t let that happen. This shit was not worth throwing away such a long streak of holding her back. Toko put her head in her hands and hissed her breaths through clenched teeth.
This was hopeless. Truly and honestly hopeless.
This was true despair.
Toko paused.
She was already low. Did it really matter if she went lower?
Later that evening, back in the safety of her dorm with the blinds pulled shut, Toko held her phone in a white-knuckle grip and stared into the screen.
She’d tried everything. Time for the last and truly most embarrassing option.
“Just be yourself!” Nagito Komaeda chirped through the phone line.
Toko’s last straw snapped.
“Oh, yeah, h-how’s that working for you? Last I heard that Reserve Course guy wants n-nothing to do with you! G-Great performance at that party, by the way. Ten out of ten. I haven’t seen someone b-blow up like that since my last stay at the psych ward when I was rooming with a fucking pyromaniac! Bet that really buttered his biscuit!” Toko heaved in a rattling, frustrated breath. She held it in her chest, and it was only then that she realised how unusually quiet the other end of the line had been. Then, listening closely, she heard something. Laboured breathing, with a slight hiccupping breaking it in places. “A-Are you crying?”
“No. I’m ill.” Komaeda answered, just a second too quickly,
Toko scoffed a laugh, “Oh, is that why you haven’t been in school? I-I would’ve thought it’s because you were hiding away under your blanket c-crying like a little kid who lost his favourite toy after he threw it out the pram during a tantrum.”
“I feel so blessed to be witness to your sparkling creativity and storytelling, Fukawa!” He answered brightly. Toko could hear the way he clenched his teeth.
“Whatever. Why the hell did I even bother?”
“I couldn’t tell you, considering you’ve just taken such glee in tearing my social failings apart at the seams throughout this thoroughly pointless conversation. But even so, I’m so grateful I even crossed your mind as an option to talk to, Fukawa!” His chipper tone got airy as his words got faster. Toko’s mouth pulled tight as he breathed heavily, a wet sounding wheeze, down the phone, “He-eh-heheh- I feel all tingly. Don’t hold back, I can take it-”
“I’m reporting you.”
Her finger hovered over the end call button.
“Perhaps you could talk to Nanami.”
Toko’s grip tightened on her phone, and with heavy regret, she pulled it back up to her ear.
“Who?”
“Chiaki Nanami. She’s in my class. She’s a wonderful girl…So kind and genuine, and so, so filled with hope. She’s our guiding light, our north star-”
“Enough of the poetry, Shakespeare!”
“Even though she isn’t the most outgoing or extroverted, she is the one who brought our class together! If anyone can tell you how to make friends, it’s her. And whose opinion is better to have in this than another girl’s?”
At this point she’d accept a fight with a bear if it meant this conversation would end.
“Fine. I hope your illness kills you.”
“Miss Fukawa, I’m blushing.”
“Die.”
-
Toko had once believed herself completely abandoned by God. She had a lot of evidence to suggest such. However, when she found Nanami the next day sitting alone, hiding in one of the less used corridors of Hope’s Peak, she thought that maybe, for once, he was giving her a break.
Now she was faced with her, she realised that she did know who Chiaki Nanami was. It was a name put to a face she’d seen in passing her entire time at the school. They’d passed each other quietly in the corridors, she’d been the one Komaeda had latched onto at that party, and now that Toko had found her here of all places, she realised they also haunted the same, forsaken grounds of this school. The scant few places where someone could actually be alone for once, or at least find a little bit of quiet. Toko remembered turning her nose up at her a few times when she’d found her lurking in the corner of the library only to be playing a video game instead of actually reading. But she had always at least appreciated that Nanami strictly wore earphones or forwent the sound on her console in those situations.
Toko shuffled around the corner, stopping dead in front of the girl. The beeping from the console she had in her hands didn’t stop. Toko fussed with the cuffs of her brown uniform jacket, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. The beeping continued, and Nanami’s tired but intense gaze didn’t lift from the screen. Toko cleared her throat. A sad jingle rang out and when Nanami blinked Toko realised she hadn’t done so once the entire time she’d been standing there. Slowly, Nanami lifted her head, and that lazy, cat-like stare was focused on Toko instead.
“H-Hey.”
Nanami tilted her head a little, “Hi.”
Somewhere deeper into the school someone shouted. A door slammed. Toko swallowed, pulled the cuffs of her jacket over her hands.
“How…D-Do you make friends?” She croaked.
It took a long while for the question to process. Toko watched it happen through Nanami’s deadpan expression. Eventually, she hummed, her eyes closed and lips twisting into a thoughtful pout as she tapped the edge of her console rhythmically.
“I guess I just try to think about it like a game, you know?”
“How is that supposed to help me?!”
“Well, it probably won't. You aren’t a gamer.” Nanami searched for her gaze but didn’t insist upon it when Toko continued to avoid it. “But you are a writer, right?”
Something about it being said so plainly felt weirdly invasive. Toko leaned away from her,
“Yeah?”
“Why don’t you think about how someone you’d write in this situation would behave, and how they’d get what they wanted in the end?” Nanami pinched one of the long pieces of dusty pink hair that framed her face and twisted it between her fingers, “How would the protagonist in your books get someone to be their friend?”
“So, what, just pretend?”
Nanami looked her up and down, but somehow without an inch of judgement. Or rather, none Toko could read from the tired poker face she wore through the whole conversation. It made her uneasy. She finished her assessment, and raised an eyebrow,
“Do you have a problem with that?”
The direct nature of the question threw her off. She stiffened, an automatic part of her jumping to disagree. But the longer she thought about it, the more she loosened up.
“...No, I suppose I don’t.”
Relief dropped through Nanami and finally her expression broke, a small, dry smile appearing as she shifted against the wall and looked back down at her console,
“Cool. I’m glad that worked. That’s all I’ve got. Honestly, my friends did most of the heavy lifting. I think in the end I was just…” Nanami huffed a quiet laugh, and her smile grew a little wider and a little snarkier too, “Lucky.”
The word held more emotion than Nanami had expressed through the entire conversation. Toko groaned and tugged nastily at her braids.
Something bright lit up in Nanami’s eyes. She shifted excitedly where she crouched,
“Do you want to play-”
“No.”
The excitement dropped from her, and she leaned further back into the wall.
“Aw…”
Toko thought that was that. At least, this time she’d have to admit that the advice did make a little bit of sense to her. It was something way easier to work with than the dismissive and wholly inappropriate advice that everyone else had given to her before this. She walked away, heading down the hall without a thought really of where she’d go now. Probably to find Master. She’d left his side for much too long. She wondered if he missed her.
She imagined him sent away for months on a business trip, standing in his room alone in the dark looking out from the top of a skyscraper across the beautiful city skyline below, the lights twinkling in the night. The image would make him think of her, the way the light caught in her eyes. The thought would bring him to tears as he throws back the last of his drink and lays in bed, a hand clutching over his aching heart. He’d call her, just to hear her voice and she’d beg him to come home. His husky voice, forlorn with sadness, would light a fire within her and she’d lay back in her bed and-
“I’d be careful though.”
Toko’s steps faltered. She turned back to see Nanami staring at her from down the hall.
“What?”
“Pretending. Sometimes, if you pretend too long, it ends up just becoming who you are…I think…” An excited energy suddenly washed over her, a renewed sparkle in her eye as she tightened the grip she held on her console and leaned forwards, “Wear the mask for too long and it’ll possess you and you won't be in control of yourself anymore and you’ll kill your teammates and lose all the scrap you just spent ages collecting and you’ll never meet quota then get shot into space and die.” Nanami stopped. Her breath and fast cascade of words halting as suddenly as they’d begun. Her smile twisted into something a little embarrassed and she pushed her hair behind her ear shyly, “I mean…Just be careful who you pretend to be.”
Toko bristled. What the hell kind of warning was that?! She was the one who suggested all this in the first place!
“Ok, Fairy Godmother, I didn’t fucking ask!”
“But you literally did-oh”
Toko kept walking, an angry weight to each step. Just as she rounded the corner, a soft sound caught her ear,
“Bye.”
Toko grumbled and kept walking.
–
Now that Toko thought about it, the answer really had been so simple. Simple enough that she felt entirely miffed that it took advice from an upperclassman to get her to realise it. Komaru had given her a golden ticket. A first class, easy ride into creating the perfect environment to ‘make friends’ with her and Toko had thrown it back in her face.
Luckily, Komaru seemed to be a stupidly forgiving girl, or at least she wanted whatever she believed Toko could give to her enough to push her grievances aside. Toko didn’t care which, as long as she got to carry out her plan.
The library, contrary to every expectation, was actually buzzing with life. There was a thrum to it that it was entirely unused to holding, so it fumbled with it, the sound bouncing unnaturally around making it way more jarring than it would have been anywhere else. It seemed some sort of kid’s club was happening. And while the librarians and parents alike were doing their best to contain the chaos, it was a losing battle.
How typical that today of all days, the day Toko decided she really needed to use the library, it would be like this. Where was the thanks? The appreciation? Toko had written at least 5% of the books held in this joint and read and reviewed at least 40% of the rest. It was like someone had just come and dumped a load of unruly kids in her living room and expected her to just deal with it.
“A bit livelier than I expected.” Komaru mused. Toko didn’t bother with a response, because she couldn’t think of one that wasn’t snarky.
This too was a product of Nanami’s advice. Though, she sourly admitted, it had sort of been Asahina’s advice too. ‘Be nice’ her shrill voice harshly mocked in her head. She hated that she actually had to listen to her.
Her protagonists in her books always changed, so she couldn’t base it off of that. Instead, she looked for inspiration from her assigned ‘love interest’. Such a boring, normal girl like Komaru. What type of person would attract her? Someone as boring and normal as her, of course. With maybe just a hint of mystery, just enough to keep her guessing. That made things easy for her. All it meant was being agreeable, biting her tongue and, the part that Toko loved the most, it meant that any silences where she couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say could be used to her advantage to create an air of mystery. It was perfect. As for conversation, well Toko could talk about writing until the cows came home. If Komaru was willing to listen, it’d be all she’d need to talk about. She’d just let Komaru do the rest.
“Why are we at the library anyway?” Komaru asked as she followed behind Toko. Toko knew the library’s layout like she knew her own bedroom. In fact, she probably knew it better.
To the un-indoctrinated, the winding rows of shelves could be seen as unending and randomly arranged. The shelves stood at varying heights, some waist high, opening out the library as opposed to the ones tall enough to be make-shift walls, separating off sections into small, hidden coves. These coves, right at the back, where even the hubbub of the children playing could almost be forgotten, was where Toko was leading Komaru. One reason was because it was where the romance books were located and from that accursed list that Komaeda had so kindly given her, she knew already that Komaru preferred these books over others. Taking her here ahead of time only made this whole ordeal easier. The other reason hinged completely on the seclusion of the area.
A secluded, dark corner of the library, surrounded by romance. It was an intimate area on its own, creating a feeling of closeness, like you needed to huddle together to whisper over the books, lest you break the spell. The closeness, the quiet hush, the stolen looks. What else could be stolen in the moment? Who would know if she were to push Komaru against the shelves and give a demonstration of what the books surrounding them described so vividly? They could bring it to life, her hand at her jaw, Komaru’s at her waist-
Toko smacked her cheeks with a veracity that made Komaru startle. She ignored her questioning, mumbling some lame excuse, and continued through the shelves.
That was weird. That was weird. Why had her imagination gone so graphic? Those details were entirely unnecessary.
She supposed, realistically, she’d imagined more graphic things with her Master, but that was her Master. That was different. This felt…Weird. Strange. Off. Queer-
She really needed to get this over with. This was obviously so unnatural to her it was making her ill in the head.
“If you’re gonna write a story, you need to read.” Toko answered before Komaru could waste her breath asking the question again. She took a breath, regained her control over herself, and continued, “You need to read lots.”
“Really?”
“You learn from mimicking what others are doing. So, you read. Not just read, you think about it. You’ve got to look at what the authors you like are doing and think about how you could do it. Maybe, how you could do it better.”
‘But let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.’ She kept to herself.
“Wow…Yeah that makes a lot of sense.” Komaru huffed a laugh, “I’ve read so many manga, but I never really thought about it more than just reading it.”
Toko bit her tongue, the first time of many to come this afternoon. “Right.” She shook off the stiffness, and moved swiftly past the topic, “So, we need to find you some books and you need to read them.”
They rounded the corner, and Toko stepped back, giving the floor over to Komaru. She seemed a bit confused at first, but when she read a few of the spines at her eyelevel, she turned back to Toko with a strange grin,
“How’d you know I liked romance books?”
Toko nearly choked on her own breath, “L-Lucky guess.” She hated that she said it like that, “W-What type of romance book do you like?”
Komaru faltered at that, she spent a bit longer this time examining the shelves, but Toko could tell she was just stalling for time. Right on cue, Komaru gave her a sheepish smile and asked,
“What type do you like?”
“Personally, I don’t really-” Toko stopped herself and spluttered, shaking her head furiously, “Wait, no! You’re doing it again!”
“Doing what?”
“You can’t just-” Toko dragged in a breath. Hands almost praying in front of her face, she lowered them as she released her breath, and continued stiffly, “You need to like the books yourself, not because someone else told you to like them.”
Komaru scratched her cheek, “But I don’t really read much…”
This was going to get nowhere then. Out of all the things Toko was learning about Komaru, this meek, indecisive side of her was the most grating. Maybe it was because Toko had the advantage of being a social outcast already (the first and last time she’d ever consider that an advantage), but she seriously couldn’t understand why this girl seemed to hellbent on appeasing others in every aspect of her life.
But from the unsure look on her face, Toko knew she had to give somewhere if anything was going to progress.
“...Fine. I’ll give you a broad range.” Toko pushed her glasses up her face, and started pulling some books off the shelves, “Probably for the best anyway, rather than having you waste time on rubbish that’ll poison your brain.”
Komaru hung close to her back as Toko pulled books off the shelf, examining them and putting them back or piling them in her arm,
“Book recommendations from one of the most prestigious, up-and-coming authors of our generation.” Toko couldn’t help her smile at the praise, “This is like something out of a manga!”
Toko stiffened so hard, the paperback in her hand creaked a little under the pressure of her grip. She smacked it securely onto the small pile in her hand, a million nasty responses fighting to be let out first. Toko pushed her glasses up her face and braced herself, “S-Sure. Okay, look at these-”
“Oh! I’ve heard about this one!”
She’d only taken her eyes off her for a second, but apparently that was all that was needed. Komaru had scarpered off to a smaller set of shelves sitting opposite the main ones, holding the most popular books of the season as a recommendation to other readers. When Toko finally processed the bland cover art and she saw the name, in solid, red lettering, reading ‘November 9’, despair cascaded through her in a terrible, all-encompassing wave that near brought her to her knees.
“No! Absolutely not!”
Komaru squawked as Toko snatched the book out of her hand. She waved it without regard, hands shaking with rage as she smacked the cover, “This is exactly the poison I was talking about! It’s pornographic garbage! It’s trash, a complete waste of paper! I can’t believe the library even stocks this bullshit! Like, seriously? I-It's an affront to romance, no, to the e-entirety of literature itself-!”
Komaru snatched it back, and scrambled away, holding the book close to her chest, “Well I’ve heard good things about it.”
Toko scoffed, “From who? Moronic girls at your school?”
“N-No! My friends aren’t morons! They don’t read anyway,” An oxymoron, in Toko’s opinion, “B-But people online have been talking about it a lot!”
“Dragging it through the dirt, I hope.”
“Well, some of them.” Komaru admitted through a light mumble, before the light came back into her tone, “But some people have said it’s really romantic!”
Toko spat an appalled laugh, “Some people don’t have a spare two brain cells to-”
She stopped, a cold sweat dripping over her body as her brain caught up, her frontal lobe finally piercing through the wave of vitriolic anger that had blinded her before now. Shit, she’d gotten totally carried away. Komaru stared at her in hesitant anticipation. Toko cleared her throat, and weakly turned away.
“Uh, I mean…If you want to read it you can, I guess.”
“Oh. O-kay…” Komaru stood waiting for something. Toko wasn’t sure what. But she quickly shook it off. She suddenly brightened considerably, almost cartoonishly, “I have an idea!”
Great.
“Let’s play that game where you pick a book, then pick a random page and line and read it!”
That sounds boring. And pointless. And stupid. And also, pointless!
“Sure.” Toko mumbled.
Komaru narrowed her eyes, her mouth pursed a little, “Okay.” Something about it sounded like a challenge. It made Toko bite her cheek. Then, a mischievous sparkle glinted in Komaru’s eye, and she smacked the so-called ‘book’ into her other hand, “Let’s start with this one!”
Toko counted to 10 in her head, slowly. She didn’t give a response. She knew she wouldn’t be able to, not the way she needed to to keep this stupid charade up anyway.
Komaru, however, seemed desperate to stretch out this completely unnecessary b-plot, as she still wasn’t reading anything, and was instead staring at Toko like she was a key suspect for a murder case (not that Toko knew what that felt like, even though she really, really should, all things considered).
“...You’re really just gonna let me do this?” She asked carefully. Toko didn’t respond, “That easy? No protest?”
“Why would I protest? If you wanna do it, you do it.” Toko grumbled. She shifted the books in her arms so she could pick at a hangnail on her finger.
“But-” Komaru scowled, but let it go just as quickly. If Toko wasn’t mistaken, she could’ve sworn she was disappointed. “Fine then. Give me a page number, and a line number.”
Truly, Toko would rather have been forced to lick an old squat toilet until it was clean. But still, she pushed through. Even this she’d suffer through for her Master. She wished he was here so he could see a fraction of the dedication she was putting into this for him.
Though as the joke went on, it kind of became harder to think like that. Komaru relaxed pretty quickly once Toko started playing along, and even she, after defending the book, spluttered with laughter over the absolutely ridiculous nature of some of the lines and the insane plot points they were getting hints of. Sure, they were out of context, but Toko was willing to bet that context wouldn’t help matters much. At first, she’d only resigned herself to play along for a few goes, but now she found herself taking the book and asking Komaru for a page and line number. Toko was hesitant to admit it, but it was actually, really, almost…Kind of fun? All the more fun when she’d make a comment, and Komaru would actually laugh at her jokes, even if they were bordering on crude, sometimes even straight up mean. She’d refute it sometimes, cooing at some of the more romantic lines that they managed to land on, but still she’d laugh. The sound of it filled Toko with a nervous, frantic energy; a feeling she wanted to encourage.
The feeling, however, was a double-edged sword. She let herself go a bit too much, and after a particularly heinous line, Toko swallowed her words. She felt Komaru giving her a look, but didn’t return it. Whatever energy had fizzled between them faded, and it was only when the atmosphere turned cold that Toko realised how warm she’d felt before. It was off-putting. Something she didn’t understand. The longer they sat in the cold, the angrier she got, an anger that built the more she felt it because she just couldn’t even understand why she was feeling like this anyway. She just felt stupid, and Toko hated feeing stupid.
Most of all, she just wished Komaru would say something, because the tight, damn near betrayed look on Komaru’s face was making her anxious. This just frustrated her further because it was just another thing that made her feel stupid. She seriously couldn’t understand why she’d be looking at her like that, like she just told her that Santa Claus wasn’t real or something.
Toko couldn’t take it anymore. She turned back to the shelves, away from Komaru. She wished it helped.
“You know,” Komaru began. Though Toko had been wishing for her to say something, now she had, it only made her more tense, “I appreciate this, but…I did mean it before, you know? You really don't have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“W-What makes you think I don’t want to?”
She heard Komaru take a step towards her, “You’re being…Weird.”
Toko stiffened, “W-Weird?”
“Different from how you have been.” Komaru waited, like Toko was supposed to say something. But Toko didn’t know what she was expected to say so she just stayed quiet. “I just thought that maybe-” Komaru sighed, it sounded like defeat. There had been a frustration in her tone, building as she spoke. She decided against whatever she was about to say, and it melted away. Instead, she straightened her back and took a step away. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, “I get it if you don’t like me. You wouldn’t be the first, or the last. It’s fine. I appreciate you going out of your way like this to help me anyway. I’ll take your advice to heart.” She took the books from Toko. It was easily done with how slack she’d gone. Holding the books close to her chest, she said, “You don’t need to speak to me again.”
With that, Komaru bowed politely, excused herself, and began walking away.
It shocked her still. Long enough that Toko had to scramble to catch up with Komaru before she actually did leave, and another chance passed her by, and another failure was notched into the scoreboard of her life, already scratched to death with a million others crowded together before it.
“W-Wait. Wait! What?!” Toko spluttered, Komaru kept walking, “W-W-Where did that come from?! What made you think-”
Komaru spun around, and Toko tripped on her footing to stop before she collided with her, and the intensity of the scowl she levelled her with made her take a few more steps back after that,
“You’re being dishonest with me!” Komaru huffed, Toko swallowed, “I know you think I’m dumb, and maybe I’m not as smart as you, but even I can tell when someone’s being fake with me.” She pursed her lips, then slowly, it relaxed, her expression turning somewhat forgiving, “Also, you’re kind of really bad at hiding it.”
Found out. Toko sweat in the silence, scrambling in her mind for something to keep her in the game. If she failed this, it was all over. Toko was working with a handicap of zero experience or expertise as is, if Komaru found out it was all an act, right to the core, there would be no coming back from it, and Master would know how much of a failure she really was. Not to mention the financial side of it. Sure, Komaeda had offered to pay, but that didn’t soothe Toko’s nerves. Losing this, letting her Master down, and being financially indebted to that freak on top of it all? Toko would rather die than live that existence.
The silence stretched on. Toko decided on a half-truth.
“I-I was just…Nervous.”
Komaru’s eyes narrowed further, but her posture relaxed a bit, “Nervous?”
Toko grabbed onto the small amount of forgiveness with a sweaty, white knuckled grip, “I-I’m sure you’ll be very shocked to hear it, but…I’ve n-never had any friends before.”
“I kind of figured that, yeah.”
The words pierced like a spear through her chest. She physically flinched, hunched over against their impact.
“R-Really going e-easy on me, huh? Thanks a lot-”
“Do you want to be friends?”
The phrase froze her solid, still as death. Only she couldn’t be dead with how loud her heart was beating in her ears. It spun her out, the beat sickeningly deep, like it was ringing all the way down into a deep forgotten pit in her heart. This was typical, of course, for this completely atypical situation. Next up, she’d realised the trick that was being played. She’d snap at the offered-out hand before it could smack her first. But even this instinctive, thrashing retaliation was stopped dead by the way Komaru looked at her. It was all Toko could do to gape at her stupidly, even the tightness in her posture relaxed by the promise she extended to her.
“I-I-” She stuttered unintelligently. It didn’t help the warm, fuzzing feeling that was building inside her. It just added layers of sticky embarrassment that made it even more overwhelming. Toko moved away a step, stared at her fingers fussing between and around each other rather than the open way Komaru was staring at her, “F-Friends?”
“I know we’ve only really just met, but,” Komaru smiled and shrugged and continued like it was the easiest thing for her in the world, “I like talking to you, and I think you’re smart, and I’d like it if we hung out more.”
Toko stared dumbly, “S-S-Seriously?!”
Komaru brushed a hair behind her ear, “After that party, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.” She stopped, as if realising the double meaning to her words, and flung her hands in an embarrassed negation, “N-Not in a creepy way! I just… You just seemed so interesting. I wanted to get to know you more.”
“J-Jeez.”
It couldn’t be true. Toko waited for the moment Komaru sneered at her, searched every inch of her expression for the tremble where she was holding back her laughter or her contempt. She couldn’t find it. It didn’t mean it wasn’t there. Toko knew she was pathetic in moments like this. Like a man starved, she grabbed at a meal that was offered to her without a thought at how it could be poisoned. After a lifetime of starvation, even poison could feel like relief.
She reasoned that, even without the way her heart jumped at the suggestion, how rushed to paint this moment in rosy tones of pink and gold, this was still in her best interests. Even if Komaru was faking, even if this was all a joke, at least this time it wouldn’t only be her who’d fall on her ass when the rug was pulled from under her. This was the exact outcome she needed, after all. For her own gain, to get closer to her own goal. Nothing more. The way it felt to have it offered to her so easily, perhaps even genuinely, that was just a plus. If she thought of it like that, it wasn’t anything Komaru could take away from her.
So, with cheeks embarrassingly warm and a smile she resented, she gave in.
“Y-You’re so easy…”
Not without a fight, however. It wasn’t like she was agreeing that being herself was the best option here or anything, it definitely wasn’t. It was more of a test. If Komaru was so sure about this, then she’d show her everything and make her regret it.
Toko didn’t miss the shocked blush that grazed Komaru’s face, “I-I resent that!” But, after the shock passed a cocky smile emerged, “I’m just an open minded and kind person.”
“And self-absorbed. Y-You're a b-bleach job away from bimbo territory.”
“Maybe you could learn a thing or two, misses down-in-the-dumps.”
Her heart fluttered a little. She pushed a little harder, “Learn from you? What, l-learn how to make a fool out of myself in front of my celebrity lesbo crush?”
“I-I didn’t make a fool out of myself! I-” Komaru paused, and the colour she’d just gained drained from her, “Oh god, did I make a fool out of myself?”
Toko snorted uglily, “You were so obvious. It was like there was a giant neon sign above your head that said, “I’m Wet for Sayaka Maizono!”
“You’re so vulgar! There are children here!” Then, as an afterthought, “And I don’t have a crush on Maizono!”
“Sure. Keep telling yourself that. Get back to me when you finally make it out of the closet, Harry Potter.”
Toko, prouder of that one liner than she should’ve been, turned and walked away, leading them back through the labyrinth of bookshelves. Komaru followed behind at her heels, bringing their playful bickering along with her. They passed a window, and it made Toko pause. In the corner of her eye, she’d caught her washed out reflection. She was smiling. She hadn’t even realised it.
How horribly cliche and completely gauche. The sight struck her with embarrassment, and she wiped the offending smile away. When she looked again, she saw Komaru wasn’t next to her like she’d expected. She turned around to look for her right as Komaru gasped. She was crouched down by one of the shelves. She’d discarded the books Toko had chosen for her and was holding another, new book reverently in her hands.
“What's that?” Toko asked over her shoulder. Komaru startled, and clumsily shoved the book back into the shelf. It took her a few tries.
“I-It’s nothing! Don’t worry about it.”
Like Toko was going to fall for that. Komaru’s haphazard attempt at hiding the book failed and it dropped to the floor, cover up. Komaru finally gave up. Hiding her face behind her hands, she groaned as Toko picked it up and examined it.
“A…Dystopian adventure novel?” She narrowed her eyes, looking Komaru up and down. “What’s this about?”
“It’s just some dumb kid’s book. Let's just get these, forget about it-”
Komaru tried snatching it out of Toko’s hands, but she didn’t let her, holding it out of reach and stepping backwards away from her.
“You really don’t want me to know, so now I have to know.” Toko smirked, as Komaru wailed in embarrassment. She turned the book over, read the blurb, and curiously flicked through the pages, “I wouldn’t think you’d touch this genre with a 10-foot pole, you’re way too…” Toko twisted her mouth as she thought, then landed on, “Happy.”
“Y-You’re right. It’s totally not me. Just-” She reached for it again, Toko evaded her easily.
“But you picked it out.”
Komaru dropped her hands with a groan. She sighed, pushing her hair back off her face where it had gotten messed up in her fighting. She gave Toko an unsure look and fiddled nervously with her hands, “...You’re gonna think it’s stupid.”
“I have a million reasons to assume you’re stupid other than this.”
“Hey!”
“T-Tell me about the book, Dekomaru. I-I’m not dropping this. You’re being way too shady.” Komaru’s stubborn silence continued. She bit her lip, and Toko could’ve noticed that slight weakness a mile away. “Tell me or I’ll read it myself then decide if you’re a dumbass or not!”
With that, Komaru broke, and Toko won.
“Okay fine.” Komaru grumbled under her breath. But the irritation faded, leaving behind something sincere, if a little shy, “…That was my favourite book when I was younger. I was kind of obsessed with it. Honestly, it was really annoying.” Komaru laughed, eyes nervously flicking to Toko, as if waiting for agreement. Toko didn’t give it. Komaru bit her lip again, and continued, a little surer on her feet than she had been and with each sentence, Toko watched her confidence grow, a shine in her eyes sparkling as an old, forgotten passion was re-born within her. Komaru spoke, passion blooming, and Toko silently soaked it all in. Her words picked up momentum, like she was rushing against a deadline, but Toko wasn’t pushing her either way. She watched Komaru lose herself in retelling the story, and while a snide voice in her mind told her to get it over with, a stronger one didn’t want her to stop. Unfortunately, she eventually did, coming back to herself all at once. Blush scorned across her face at the same rate that the open passion she’d let grow got buried away again, “S-So stupid right? Like, I’ve even left out a load of stuff-”
All at once, the illusion was broken. A feeling, hot as anger, sharp as betrayal, pinching like frustration, cracked through her and Toko exploded,
“S-Shut up! Jeez seriously! S-Stop with that sp-pineless appeasement!” Komaru was still in the wake of her outburst, as if she was actually surprised, as if she didn’t understand why Toko would react like that. Even that fuelled her onwards, “T-Talking like that, saying such bad stuff about a book that meant so much to you, that’s the real thing that makes me think you’re an idiot! What happened to that girl that almost ripped my head off for calling Maizono’s music stupid? Are you a hypocrite now, 'Omaru?” Toko didn’t wait for Komaru to reply. Her chastised expression said enough, “If you like it, you like it. Be proud of it! W-What the hell does my opinion matter on that? At least you’re actually reading real literature.”
Komaru’s stunned silence continued. It only irritated her further. Until, a timid smile snuck onto her face, and she asked,
“...Even that book I picked up earlier?”
Toko scowled, “I said real literature.”
“That makes you the hypocrite.” Komaru’s smile began to grow again, taking back the life that had drained from it so unrighteously.
“T-Then I’m a hypocrite. I-I’ll be a hypocrite and proud!” Komaru giggled at her declaration. Now, Komaru stood a bit taller, the weakness that dragged her down washed away. Seeing it, knowing she was the one who caused it, made her feel a bit lighter. Which didn’t really make sense. She remembered earlier, the smile she’d caught in the dim reflection on the window. Now, she knew that same smile was trespassing on her face. It was strange, unnatural, and the longer it stayed and the more Komaru smiled at her like that, the worse it felt.
She turned away from her, hating the way she blushed but hating more the fact that she still couldn’t understand it at all. She pushed the feeling onto Komaru instead.
“A-And I’m reading this book.”
Komaru gasped and ran in front of her to stop her getting away.
“What! No! That’s completely not fair!” Her voice was pitched with outrage, her arms spread wide to further prevent Toko from getting away.
Toko curled away from her, holding the book close to her chest, and sneered playfully, “T-Try and stop me.”
Komaru huffed a heavy frustrated breath like a child not getting its way, “Fine! Then you have to show me your favourite childhood book so I can read it!” Komaru beat Toko to her protest, “It’s only fair!”
With a grumbling groan, Toko bonelessly gave in to her request. She turned to the shelf nearest her-
“And don’t just give me any old book either!”
Toko flinched like she was hurt. That was exactly what she was about to do. When did she become so see-through?
“I want your real favourite.” Komaru continued as she turned back and picked up the small pile of books she’d left behind, “The one you're embarrassed to show other people!”
Why did Komaru care? No, that wasn’t right. She didn’t, obviously. This was just because she was embarrassed and was trying to embarrass her in the same way. Just because her trick had been found out once, didn’t mean she couldn’t try again. Komaru would be none the wiser, and Toko could just leave this unnecessary side quest behind her.
Even so, she found her feet carrying her to a set of shelves she hadn’t looked through in years. She searched for the book, praying it wasn’t there; wishing quietly it would be.
She found it. Battered and old, gracefully showing its age. The dusty pink of its cover faded; the paper corners curled to show the layers of white that made them up. The white rabbits illustrated on the front stood poised as they ever did, perpetually late.
She showed the book to Komaru, and Komaru gently steadied it from the other end. She didn’t know what face Komaru was making. She was too much of a coward to look at her.
“Alice in Wonderland?”
Toko didn’t reply. Not that she didn’t want to, but rather she couldn’t.
Komaru was quiet. Toko hated it. It sunk under her skin and pushed out from inside. The embarrassment built, a sweat beginning to grow on her, she was a second away from exploding, ripping it away from her, forgetting this entire stupid day when-
“Thank you.”
Then, she looked at her and Komaru was looking back.
The tension she felt was strange. Another thing to add to the list of things happening to her this evening she didn’t understand. Maybe she was coming down with something. But she’d never felt an illness like this before. It was like she was frozen, like if she moved or dropped Komaru’s stare it would ruin…Something. A precious ‘something’. Unidentifiable, but coveted. A ‘something’ that Toko suddenly realised could fill a ‘nothing’ inside her, if she could only understand it. Her fingers tightened on the book, and she realised that, if not for it, they’d be holding hands.
“Um, excuse me.”
Toko froze solid so suddenly she flinched. Turning towards the intrusion and seeing who or what had broken her out of her circling obsessive thinking didn’t make things any better.
Standing at the other end of the aisle created between two bookcases were two children, a boy and a girl. The girl stood primly with the toes of her polished baby pink shoes pointed outwards. Her hair was neatly parted and perfectly smoothed into two impossibly long ponytails, which were just as pink as every inch of frill and lace that she was wrapped in. In comparison to her pristine pink and white, the boy looked like a dust ball. He peaked out from under the threadbare grey beanie he was wearing pulled down much too far over his forehead. It was stained in random splotching patches that matched the stains covering the overalls and brown knit jumper he was drowning in. Everything about him was a solemn, heavy brown or grey. The only thing that wasn’t was the blue surgical mask he wore that hid the parts of his face his hat left vulnerable.
“Are you two…boyfriend-girlfriend?” he continued; his voice muffled.
The question officially broke the seal of whatever spell they both were under. Toko practically jumped away from the other girl and she stepped away, just as unsure and shocked. She didn’t realise how close they were in the first place. Well, she sort of did, but it was different before it became obvious. It was too confusing to think about, so she didn’t. Instead, she latched onto another horrible realisation. Did she smell bad? She probably did. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d forced herself to shower.
The pink one scoffed, “How could either of them be the boyfriend, stupid. It’s two girls! They would be girlfriend-girlfriend!”
The kid in the mask lifted a hand that was more like a paw with how long his sleeves were and put it to his mouth in realisation,
“Oh okay, are you girlfriend-girlfriend?” he asked in a droning, nasally tone that made his words all the more grating to listen to.
Toko leaned away from the two, leering down at them with narrowed eyes, “Wh-Why are you even asking us this? W-What makes you think that?”
“You look like girlfriend-girlfriend.”
Toko’s stomach plummeted. She looked at Komaru. Komaru was looking back at her, both their faces reflecting the same bewildered blush.
“A library date is so totally adorbs.” The girl said chipperly, “You know what’s more adorbs?”
“I don’t care!” Toko snapped. The girl didn’t flinch, if anything, she got brighter,
“Girls kissing!” She sang, twirling on one foot, before stomping it down, and further stomping her point down with it, “You should kiss to prove you’re girlfriend-girlfriend!”
“W-What?!” They gasped in unison.
The sickly-looking kid in the mask snorted and hacked whatever was in his throat. It didn’t do anything to make his voice more bearable, “Don’t worry, we’re not home- uh, homophones.”
The girl whacked him on the head, much too hard to be friendly, “Homophobic, doofus!”
The boy didn’t seem phased. He rubbed his head and slowly chortled, “Oh, yeah, that.”
Any anger the girl had shown before was swiftly replaced with a sparklingly happy, intuitive expression, “Girls kissing is totally adorbs because it has no boys! And boys are totally not adorbs and should all die because they’re horrible monsters who want to do nothing but hurt adorable little girls!”
Toko looked at Komaru. What she hoped is that Komaru would have magically disappeared, or turned into a lizard, or some other impossible, ridiculous thing so she could convince herself that this was just some horrible stress dream she was having the morning of the library not-date. Unfortunately, Komaru stood stock still next to her with her jaw on the floor, just as flabbergasted at what they were being forced to be a part of.
“Y-Yeah, that’s right.” The boy snivelled, “You know why I know? Because I’m a boy and everyone hates me. Disgusting boys like me definitely deserve to be hated and should die.”
Neither of them were qualified for this.
Though, the more Toko thought about it, there was that saying about beggars and choosers. With everything else she’d been focused on, she forgot to even consider attempting to get Komaru to kiss her today. She’d pushed it back in favour of winning Komaru’s favour. Now, she’d been granted an opportunity on a silver platter. Could she really pass up something like this, even though everything about this screamed dodgy?
“W-Well...”
Komaru’s head snapped back to her, “Well what?”
“L-Let’s just get this over with.”
Komaru stumbled back and nearly tripped over her own feet, “What?!”
“They want us to kiss, l-let’s just kiss and they’ll l-leave us alone!”
Komaru’s face was only getting redder,
“Are you kidding me?! N-No! We don’t need to give in to what they want, they're just kids!”
“Persistent kids though.” Toko murmured,
“Yeah! Whatever that means…” The kid in the mask agreed.
The girl nodded assuredly, “Very persistent! And stubborn too! And also, I can scream and cry so loud! If you don’t kiss, I might have to show you!”
“C-Come on Omaru, w-what’s one kiss?”
“No!”
There was a stern, astounded finality to that. One Toko knew she couldn’t fight against. She almost tried to, but let it go. It would’ve been pointless. The more she tried to force this thing, the more she realised that she really was going to have to do this properly.
She hated this. She hated her life.
Komaru huffed in a breath, steeled herself, then shuffled forwards and knelt to the girl’s height,
“Little girl, if you tell me who told you to pull this prank on us, I’ll buy you a lollipop!” She asked in her brightest, nicest voice.
It fell completely flat.
“That ain’t gonna cut it, sister! Nope, nope, nope! Not at all!” She accentuated each ‘no’ with an exaggerated shake of her very pink head, pigtails swishing violently with the movement. She folded her arms, a snooty air of mimicked authority swept over her that made her seem even younger than she was, “Our servant offered us way better than a silly lollipop!”
“And he’s giving free pony rides.”
“Servant?” Toko said the word like it was dirty. Komaru gave her a look over her shoulder. She had no answers to give her. “What, you a rich kid with a butler or something? Then why isn’t he watching you? Does he just get paid to sit around doing nothing?”
“Oh no, he isn’t getting paid at all!” The girl answered, sweet as cherry pie.
Komaru and Toko's stares of horrific disbelief matched perfectly.
The boy snickered wetly behind his jumper pawed hands, “But he’s the dumb dumb for makin’ a deal with a bunch’a good for nothin’ kids like us.”
“Guys! Are you stupid?”
“Yes…” The boy in the mask answered glumly, tugging on his sleeves even more.
They all turned to stare as another child suddenly appeared, smarter looking than the other two. Confined in a stiff suit and choked by an expensive looking patterned scarf, Toko figured that if he wasn’t so red in the face with anger as he was right now, he’d look refined and mature. He was flanked by a boy that was his absolute opposite. His knee socks were stained with mud, almost as much as his scuffed-up trainers were. Bruises blotched on the skin of his gangly legs that sprouted from them before they were hidden again by the sports shorts he wore that matched the team top he was wearing. It was worn at the collar and smeared with grass stains. His wild, red hair contrasted harshly with the other boy’s sleek blue hair, perfectly parted not a hair out of place.
“You weren’t supposed to say any of that!” The blue haired boy scolded.
The girl put her hands on her hips and shook her head, “Ah, Nagisa, you're such a nag. It’s totally not adorbs.”
“W-Why do you have a camera?” Komaru’s voice shook, and so did the accusatory finger she pointed towards the boy. It was only then that Toko herself even noticed it. A sleek, slightly outdated video camera sat awkwardly in his hands, just a bit too big for him to hold, even with his hand slipped neatly into the safety strap. Its viewfinder was propped open, the little light right next to the lens flickered red. Komaru scrambled to her feet and backed up back to Toko’s side. Despite herself, Toko leaned into her too as Komaru asked a pointless question she already knew the answer to, “W-Were you filming us?!”
The boy went stock still. Then he slyly hid the camera behind his back, working on t-rex logic, like if he did it slow enough, they wouldn’t see.
“No…”
The red boy gripped his hair and growled as he petulantly stomped his feet, “I told you I should’ve had the camera! I’m the director, remember? That’s what Monaca said!”
“The director doesn’t film, idiot, he directs.” The blue boy sneered.
The director stopped his stomping, and scratched his head dumbly, “What’s that mean?”
“Ugh.” The blue boy rubbed the space between his eyebrows, a gesture that in any other situation Toko would almost find amusing, considering how small he was. As it stood, it just added to her annoyance.
“See Nagisa, this is what I was trying to stop from happening!” The pink girl snapped, “You just have to take control over everything don’t you?”
Toko had had enough of this.
“T-Take us to your servant, now! Or I-I’m calling the librarian and have you b-b-banned.”
The children stopped their bickering immediately and gasped in synchronised betrayal.
The blue boy scrambled forwards, a pleading desperate shine in his eyes, “No! We like it here! Big Sis Junko visits and tells us stories!”
Everything came to a grinding halt. Toko could hear the metaphorical sound of her brain’s tires screeching to a hot and sudden stop. The shock was so harsh she almost passed out. So thrown that she couldn’t even hear the children’s whining and pleading anymore. Surely not. Junko wasn’t the most popular name nowadays, but it had to be someone else. Some other Junko that read to children in a library in her spare time. Toko tried to picture it. Tried her absolute hardest. She could only see her doing one session, one single session, where she reads the children something so abhorrently violent and grotesque that it leads to the police getting involved and a scandal in the local newspapers about the library for letting such a thing happen in a government funded facility.
She shook her head then gripped it steady. This was becoming too much. Toko felt like her brain was breaking.
In her mental absence, Komaru picked up the slack, “We mean it! One more chance or we’re gonna do it!”
The well-dressed boy held his breath, giving one last try to find some sort of way out, before he finally gave up.
“W-Whatever.” He answered roughly, then turned away and started walking, “He’s this way.”
The girl shrugged in defeat and followed behind, “We have to give his camera back anyway…”
The sporty redhead threw his hands behind his neck in a relaxed pose that didn’t match the tired groan he spoke with as he moaned, “Monaca’s gonna be so mad at us…”
The children murmured disappointedly between themselves as they led the girls through the twisting shelves of the library. Komaru and Toko walked side by side. Toko shot her a nervous glance. There was a determined spark in her eye, but an unsure bend to the corner of her mouth as she chewed the inside of her cheek. Toko bit lightly at her thumbnail, a little soothed by this strangely assured streak in Komaru. Maybe it meant she’d be on her side on this. It kind of felt like she would be. Just another weird feeling to add to the growing list.
They rounded the corner into the kid’s section. A small cove had been created between the bookshelves with a soft mat on the floor, short tables and chairs with colouring activities sprawled messily about, and an area with pillows and a large armchair set up in the corner. Children milled about, watched by parents who gossiped quietly between quick glances at their kids as they read and played and coloured. They walked past this, further into the shelves in the kid’s section. As they got deeper, Toko heard talking up ahead. A little girl’s voice nastily whining at the performance of whoever she was with.
The pink haired girl suddenly broke from the group and ran away and around the corner of a shelf up ahead, something the sporty boy seemed to take great offence too, as he gasped and scurried quickly after her, hot on her heels.
“Monaca, it totally wasn’t my fault at all that it all went wrong, okay? It was stupid Nagisa’s fault!”
The boy in question spluttered, and rushed forwards to defend himself, “I-It wasn’t! You’re the one who started talking about Servant for no reason and gave the game away!”
“If he’d just let me film none of this would’ve happened!”
“As I told you before.” The boy in the suit ground out, “You’re the director! Tell him Monaca!”
“Oh no…” The masked boy groaned, slow and waning. From just his tone, Toko could tell this type of fight was a regular occurrence. Unfortunately, Toko couldn’t care less for any of it. She caught up with the children. They’d grouped up around the gap between the shelves and the back wall, bickering amongst themselves. She rounded the shelf, standing behind the kids. Her firm scowl dropped, along with her jaw, as she gazed in abject horror at the scene laid out before her.
“Now, now kids, there’s no need to fight-” The Servant finally noticed their arrival and stopped his placations. His expression showed no sign that he was surprised, just easy acceptance as he voiced a wispy, “...Ah.”
“Shut up Servant! No one gave you permission to speak!” The blue haired boy scolded with a harsh malice Toko didn’t know kids that age were able to produce.
A girl, another one, this one dressed darkly in an expensive looking black dress with a bright red ribbon tied in her thick, apple green hair. She was sickly pale, something that was emphasised by the red blush that stained her round cheeks. She stared at her and Komaru and it felt all kinds of wrong. It was a dead stare, empty, cold, and much too intense for someone so small.
“Oh. It seems the game is all over.” She said simply. The sadness on her face was not at all reflected in her tone of voice. It sounded wholly ungenuine.
But that wasn’t what Toko was focusing on. All of that was nothing, compared to the final, most diabolical feature of this terrible scene in front of her.
“You have to be fucking joking me.”
Kneeling on all fours, tucked away at the back of the library, with a young girl straddling his back, was Nagito Komaeda.
“Language, Fukawa…” he chided, not at all affected by the demeaning position he was in.
“Who the hell even are these kids?! There’s no way they’re yours.”
“Of course they aren’t mine!” He continued supporting the girl as she slid off his back, then got to his feet and brushed himself off, “I really hate how often this topic has come up recently…It’s so harrowing…” He shivered in disgust and strained as he attempted to lift the girl off the floor. The girl allowed him, but did nothing to help, even as his arms shook under her (very minimal looking) weight. The wheelchair parked close by answered any questions Toko had before she had the chance to put her foot in her mouth and ask them. She decided to stick to the more important ones.
“Then whose are they?!”
Komaeda dropped the green haired girl back into her wheelchair and froze for a moment in thought. Then, he smiled slowly and shrugged, “I dunno.”
“W-What do you mean ‘I dunno’?! D-Did you kidnap them?!”
Komaeda’s expression was so highly appalled it bordered on camp, “No! I would never kidnap someone!”
Toko folded her arms, “Funnily enough, I find that hard to believe.”
Komaeda sighed heavily, eyes closed tight with distress or disappointment, maybe both. Toko seriously hoped he was distressed. It would make all of this a little bit easier to deal with.
The well-dressed boy snorted and jabbed a thumb towards Komaeda over his shoulder, “You seriously think we’d let someone like him kidnap us?”
The sporty boy laughed abrasively, “I don’t even care about stranger danger, and I wouldn’t let that happen!”
“Not that it even matters.” The pink haired girl interjected, “Most of the time, it isn’t strangers.” She stared through them, a darkness in her eyes and a heaviness to her tone that was off-putting. A tone that said more than enough to those that were listening properly.
Komaru took a shaky step back. Even Toko felt an uncomfortably familiar coldness set over her. She knew that look too well. She’d seen it in the mirror every morning since she was the same age as that girl.
“Y-You kids-” Komaru stuttered, “Stop talking like that! It isn’t normal!”
The sporty boy scoffed then rolled his eyes dramatically,
“Duhh.”
Komaru went pale, her bottom lip trembling a little. Toko sighed, figures that a sheltered, nice girl like her would falter at the first sign of the darker reality of life. Toko didn’t care for the performance. She stepped forwards, ignoring the children and facing the real problem behind all of this nonsense.
“W-Why the hell were you trying to get them to film us?”
At her side, Komaru grabbed the edge of her skirt and tugged it down a little further.
Komaeda chuckled that breathy, unperturbed laugh that creeped up Toko’s spine in all the wrong ways, “Ah…I’ve been caught, how embarrassing. But I’m afraid…I cannot tell you why.” Realisation brightened his face, and he quickly began to mollify them before they could react, “But it most certainly wasn’t for the reasons you’re thinking! I find people who do such things quite distasteful. It’s a pointless act of despair I’d never partake in!”
“The more you defend yourself the more suspicious you become you know?” Komaru snapped, holding her skirt more firmly and scurrying further back to hide behind Toko.
So, it was him. Now the children’s persistence made sense. Now everything was falling into place.
Now, Toko knew they had to drop this topic as quickly as humanly possible, before it all went up in flames.
“Ugh, who cares.” Toko groaned and began walking away, cutting off whatever question Komaru was about to ask. Toko heard her spluttering behind her.
“What do you mean ‘Who cares’?! We need to report this!”
Toko sighed, and turned back around, “It’s not like they actually got any footage of us doing anything, right?”
“Nope.” The smart looking boy admitted with a sharp shrug.
“You were both too boring.” The boy in the mask gurgled.
The girl sitting primly in her wheelchair sniffed gently. Wide, wet eyes glazed her with a pathetic, sorry look over her fists cutely squishing her cheeks. A mediocre performance at best. If Toko had popcorn, she would’ve thrown it at her and booed.
“Monaca is sorry that her friends bothered you on your date…”
“It wasn’t a date!” Komaru squealed.
Monaca continued as if uninterrupted, “It wasn’t our fault…This nasty servant put them up to it is all…Monaca promises to be good, meow.” Monaca smiled pleasantly as she looked between her friends, all of whom looked at her the way a devout congregation would a priest. She clapped her hands together, and tilted her head sweetly, “We’ll punish our servant enough that it’ll make up for it, right everyone?”
Komaeda froze. His eye twitched, and he stuttered out the beginning of a laugh, “Ah-”
“Yippee! Punishment time!” The kids cheered in perfect unison, before jumping Komaeda and dragging him away. He didn’t put up a fight, just continued a hiccuping, hurried laugh as the children cackled giddily around him, the pink haired girl quickly taking place behind Monaca to push her along behind the boys.
Toko continued her way out, looking over her shoulder once, she caught Komaeda’s eye. He looked at her, pleading. Toko sneered and hurried Komaru along.
Great. Perfect. Fan-Fucking-Tastic!
Another opportunity ruined. All because of that stupid, skinny jackass! Did he seriously think he was helping her by doing this shit? Toko’s fury only grew. For a moment, she considered going in there and dragging him out by his hair to enact her own punishment upon him. He should be happy she’d left him just at the mercy of those primary schoolers. If she could get her hands on him, they’d have to identify what was left of his body from his teeth. She wouldn’t even let her out to do it. She’d make it her own, original work.
“...Do you think…Maybe…We should help him?”
Komaru’s careful words stopped Toko in her tracks. She’d been so caught up in her vitriol towards that ferrety little wretch that she hadn’t noticed that Komaru had fallen behind. She looked between Toko and the door to the library with an unsure expression as she adjusted the books carried in her arm.
Toko narrowed her eyes, “You actually care?”
Komaru's face scrunching up in uncertainty as she thought. She took long enough that Toko started to get worried.
“No, you’re right, I don’t.” Komaru finally admitted with a shrug. Toko let out the breath she’d been holding before Komaru continued, “I just think, you know, we should at least pretend to, right?”
They stood in silence, staring at the library door. A crow cawed above their heads.
“...Are you done pretending?”
“Yeah, I think that’s enough.”
-
They arrived at a cross-roads, the moment they’d need to separate and this day would finally be over. They said their goodbyes, Komaru called out asking her to text her when she got back as Toko walked away. She made a non-committal sound, knowing full well she wouldn’t.
Toko was far away in her mind, picking apart the next plot of her novel. It was more of an effort than it usually was lately. Her mind had been so occupied with other things that she was stumbling across more holes in her imagination than she ever had before.
“Hey, Fukawa?” Komaru’s voice pulled her from her thinking. When she turned around, she found Komaru hadn’t moved from where she’d left her. Behind her, the sun was setting pink. The uniform square of the houses lined up around them and the tall telephone poles turning orange in the dusk. The branching runs of the wires at their peaks cutting black through the scenery. Komaru pushed her hair behind her ear, and said, “...Thanks.”
“For what?” Toko hadn’t expected her voice to be that gentle. Her stomach flipped as she wished she could drag it back and replay the moment and make her sound more irritated.
“For not calling me stupid over that book.” Komaru fixed how her bag sat on her shoulder and kept looking at the wall across the street from her, “It did mean a lot to me as a kid, but no one else seemed to get it. My friends always used to get so bored of me when I’d talk about it.” There was half a laugh in her voice, but it was terribly insincere. She quickly dropped it, her mouth pulled firm, a feeling that reflected in her eye, glinting with something Toko wanted to call confidence, “Thing is, you're right. I don’t think it’s stupid at all. Actually, I think it's really good, even with all the stupid stuff in it, a-and…I hope you like it too.”
Curiously, Toko suddenly felt shy, “N-No promises.” She muttered, “It’s a bit different from what I usually read.”
Komaru huffed out a laugh, “Thank you for giving it a chance anyway. It means a lot to me.”
It was a sunset she’d seen one hundred times before. The same autumn sunset right now as was yesterday, as would be tomorrow.
“See you! Thank you again for today! I’ll text you later, okay?”
The sunset was the same, so Toko couldn’t understand why now, looking at Komaru standing against it, she felt breathless.
“S-Sure…” Komaru would never have heard it. It was hard to project your voice with no breath in your lungs.
Toko stood in the moment for a little while longer. She pulled the book out of her bag, and looked at it again
“Ultra Despair Girls…” Toko huffed, “What a stupid title.”
She walked back to the dorms, the book clutched against her chest the whole way.
Notes:
I love those stupid evil kids. I had to work them in somehow hehe
Next update could potentially be late. I didn't want to upload this one until I'd written the next, but a terrible case of writer's block mixed with busy schedule and Life (tm) has meant I have barely written anything the last month and a half OTL. I'll get the next one out to you when I can, hopefully this month will be easier :')
i hope u enjoyed !!
Chapter 5
Notes:
*walks in 3 months late with a coffee in my hand* heyyyyy.........
life got away from me, you know how it is. winter time is always super busy for me. but hopefully- HOPEFULLY . GOD WILLING. it wont happen again uwu but im here now !
To the more serious bit: This is a bit of a heavier chatper than the others! That tag about Toko's shit mums is coming into play here! So HEAVY trigger warning for :
- Child Abuse (Emotional in the present, physical in the past)
- Descriptions of drowning / waterboarding.If you want to skip this part, it starts at '“...Do you want to try that again, Toko?”' and ends 'She hung up the phone'
Spoilers for the chapter, but a summary of the conversation for people who want to skip it.
One of Toko's mum's calls her. She berates her heavily, and guilt trips her over basically everything and anything. Just Toko existing really, and insists she isn't her real mother. The reason she called was to tell Toko that she'd sold her into another publishing deal for a romance story for the christmas season. This heavily upsets Toko, as she'd been promised in the past by her mother that she could go back to writing her own stories again. Toko's mum doesn't listen and Toko is powerless. Theres going to be a dinner she'll have to attend to discuss the book, and she needs to start writing it now. Toko's mum makes a comment about how she always used to have to make her bathe, and Toko has a flashback to her childhood, where her mum would nearly drown her in her attempts to ""bathe" her. Her mother guilt trips her about this too. Toko hangs up the call when her parents (all three, the two mothers and her father) start arguing amongst each other.
END
I also showcase a lot of headcannons about Toko and her relationship w/ her parents and stuff. so i hope u like what I thought up ^^ also i swear this chapter i still very niceies at the end. i promise.
Songs for this chapter:
> girl in red: we fell in love in october
> Clairo: Bags
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Having a friend was weird.
Or, at least, pretending to have a friend was weird. Toko wasn’t so deluded as to think this was a genuinely real attempt at friendship from Komaru. Or, at least, she kept reminding herself not to be.
They met up more often since that time at the library. The first time was the most nerve wracking for a multitude of overlapping reasons. With the new element to their dynamic, that they were supposedly ‘friends’, Toko wondered how things would change. She didn’t know how to be a friend, let alone what that even meant.
On top of this was the added vulnerability of this particular meeting. She just hoped it was a feeling that was shared both ways. After a week with each other’s favourite childhood books, they’d have to discuss what they thought so far. The book Komaru had given her to read was…Interesting. There was a sense of hope that ran through it that was a little different to what would usually be expected in a good-vs-evil story. The protagonist was truly normal, and that never changed. But still she was able to change the world around her. At the very least Toko could say that the ending was inspiring, even if the contents of the rest of it were more than dubious, and definitely completely unrealistic.
In what world could a group of no-good brats cause that much damage to an entire city? Against adults no less? It was an honestly ridiculous premise. Toko wondered if maybe it was supposed to be some big metaphor about intergenerational conflict and the inherent horror of growing up. But Toko knew enough to figure that she was probably making it more than it actually was.
She’d said as much to Komaru, and she’d swallowed her drink a bit stiffly and laughed, “I…Don’t think you’re supposed to think about it that deeply.”
Toko scoffed, “Next you’ll tell me the curtains are just blue.”
“What do curtains have to do with anything?”
Toko thought of a beach, and Togami next to her on the beach, shirtless, wet with sweat, and in very tight speedos. It helped. Almost. That was a lesson for another day.
Plus, Toko was more than a little anxious to get Komaru’s half of this ordeal over and done with. Though she wasn’t sure why it was stressing her out so much. It wasn’t like Komaru’s opinion would change anything about the legitimacy of Alice in Wonderland or would mean anything about Toko’s taste (which she knew for a fact was much more refined than Komaru’s). Regardless of these facts, when it was Komaru’s turn to weigh in, Toko felt her chest tighten with anticipation.
“It made sense that it was your favourite.” Komaru said with a shrug and a strange smile.
“W-What does that mean?”
“I dunno. Just I could tell it was influential to you. Reading it reminded me of you.”
Toko suddenly felt hot all over. “O-Of course it did. I-I’m the one who told you to read it.”
Komaru rolled her eyes, “Not like that. You know what I mean.”
She thought back to her own reading, and the number of times Komaru had crossed her mind with every page.
“...Yeah, okay. Maybe I do.”
After that, it all got a little bit easier, bit by bit. They settled into a routine of, at first, every Saturday after Komaru’s extra morning classes Toko would meet her and they (by Komaru’s insistence) would go to that damned coffee shop on the corner and have what was essentially the most pathetic and unproductive book club Toko had ever experienced. They’d order their drinks, and every week Komaru would make her stick to her word and they would both try something new. Sometimes it’d be worth it. Other times, Toko would take the pleasure she didn’t get from drinking whatever horrid concoction she’d been forced to buy from moaning and complaining about it to Komaru. Sometimes Komaru would laugh, sometimes hard enough she’d snort. Toko pretended she wasn’t chasing that reaction. It made it easier to let how proud she felt after achieving it burn through her.
After this, Toko would be in a state of perpetual worry and tension reminiscent of when she’d take maths tests in junior high as she worked herself up trying to think of some new advice or lesson she could give to Komaru about writing. To try and at least make their meetings something useful. And maybe just a little bit, to give her another line of defence against these softly agonising fears that would creep up her spine and dig in their nails when Komaru would actually be listening to her (really listening to her) when she’d grumble through some boring anecdote of her day. It was a tiring rollercoaster of an experience that left her drained of any energy for the rest of the day once she managed to get home and flop motionless into her rickety dorm bed.
Toko always dreaded those Saturdays. But the more they happened, and the more she started lingering around Komaru and didn’t protest when Komaru would ask if she wanted another drink (“I’ll pay!” she’d bargain), the more Toko began to think that maybe she didn’t dread it at all.
Which is what was so horrifically dreadful about all of this, because it meant keeping up the ruse that this was a chore became difficult. That wasn’t something she wanted to happen; she couldn’t let it happen. But, when October hit, and they started meeting up more than once a week, Toko realised with a rising horror that it was already too late.
Komaru didn’t help matters. It was like she’d completely forgotten why they were supposed to be meeting up in the first place. Each meeting would start off strong, with them both discussing what happened in the books they’d read, and Toko pointing out exactly how the author had done it with her own special insight. It was strange. No one had let Toko talk like this about writing before, and Komaru’s unflinching stare would make her feel off centre. She wasn’t used to people actually being interested in what she had to say. The closest she’d got to this was the other Naegi. But even that was different. When she’d come back into the present enough to realise how Komaru was staring at her, Toko would feel naked, or like the perspective had shifted and she was suddenly forced into seeing the scene from a third person perspective. She’d stutter over her words and suddenly wonder if she actually really even knew what she was talking about.
Then the topic would change. Komaru would tangent or make a comment so mind-numbingly stupid that Toko had no choice but to retaliate. Then another hour would pass, then two, then they’d go home and Toko would be struck again with this swirling anxiety all over again. If it were anyone else, in any other scenario, Toko wouldn’t have cared. But the only thing she wanted from the stupid “writing lessons” was an excuse to meet up with Komaru. If Toko wasn’t keeping up that end of the bargain, she might lose her one and only chance at achieving her life’s happiness.
Which, of course, she meant was fulfilling her promise to her master and kissing Komaru so they could finally be wed. Not that she needed to clarify that.
Thoughts of the wedding accosted her, as they tended to. With pleasure and ease, she let herself get consumed by the thought of it. A big, white, expensive wedding, filled with flowers and live orchestral music that would swell as she walked down the aisle. A resplendent bride, prettier than any the priest had married before. Togami would turn to see her and that softer side she knew existed would come to the surface, the one Toko inspired in him, and for the first time, in front of family and friends, Togami would let go of his ironfist discipline and cry. The Togami family would accept her with open arms, thankful that their son managed to find such a worthy bride. Toko wouldn’t have anyone to invite but her parents and she would only invite them to shove it in their ugly, smug faces. Komaru at her side would be so happy for her. She wouldn’t even compare to Toko’s beauty, obviously, like a half-formed pebble next to a glimmering gemstone. Her loud, ugly crying into Naegi’s shoulder wouldn’t help matters. It would be so embarrassing that Toko would have no choice but to scold her over it-
Wait. No, that wasn’t right. Why would Komaru be there?
Not that the ceremony mattered anyway, what would matter the most would be that night, and all the nights after where they would be bound by love, locked together, unable to contain themselves as they spend hour after hour in sweet, passionate love making. Something Komaru would have absolutely nothing to do with. Except maybe when Toko bragged to her about it all afterwards.
It was then that she realised that maybe this had all gotten a little bit too real for her, right under her nose. But why it had gotten to this point, she just didn’t know.
Komaru was annoying. Not even just when they did meet up in person. She texted her all the goddamn time, about the inanest shit. As much as she protested this frustrating behaviour, eventually Toko found she forgot to scold her for it more times than not. She still kept her phone on silent, but she also read every message. Toko’s previous worries about the constant stream of conscious thought that bombarded her driving her insane may not have been unfounded, because before she knew it, she was mid-way through a message complaining about how loud people were in the school library when she realised how pointless the comment was. It was only then that she realised the texts of a similar nature she’d already sent before this with no way to take them back. The realisation made her hot in the face. She deleted the message and buried her phone in her bag.
It wasn’t her to be so open. This compulsion she’d developed to tell Komaru things that didn’t matter unnerved her. The excuse that she was just giving Komaru a taste of her own medicine didn’t work when, for some reason, Komaru seemed to enjoy the messages. Toko didn’t want to think about how that made her feel.
It was this pointlessness to everything that they did that she was being forced to accept as their relationship developed that was both frustratingly confusing and unnerving. At the exact moment she’d settle into Komaru’s company, an internal shock would snap her ridgid with the reminder that she was getting far, far too ahead of herself and letting her heart steal control from her brain. That wasn’t something she could do lightly. Not even for her own sake. Every time she’d let herself feel like this before, no matter how many times it happened, she’d still be shocked when the egg hit her face. So, despite how Komaru may act and how Toko may feel, even though she tried her hardest not to, she would not stoop so low as to believe that this was actually real.
She kept repeating a stern and steady mantra to herself. That she didn’t care about Komaru like that, that this was all for her own gain anyway so what did she care even if Komaru was using her? Toko was the one to use her first, so how could she lose? It was soothing.
Temporarily.
By the time October was nearing its end, Toko was struggling to keep herself and her feelings as rational as she really, really needed them to be. She at the very least wanted to keep the shreds of dignity she still had. Her heart may lose its way, but by God she’d stick by her brain this time, even if it killed her.
Her phone rang, a raucous rumble through the silence of her room. She stopped typing and rolled her eyes. She sighed and grumbled, hiding her smile and putting on a show for absolutely no one. She kicked herself across her room to answer the phone and prepared herself for another night spent laughing at Komaru’s woes.
“What?” She snapped, already bored, already over it. If you didn’t account for the smile tickling the corners of her lips, it’d be believable.
“...Do you want to try that again, Toko?”
A voice so cold that everything she was turned to solid ice. Her stomach dropped out of her, gutting her with a single sweeping tug.
She ducked her head. Both hands gripping the phone as if it could do anything to steady her.
“S-Sorry, mother. I thought you were s-someone else…”
“Who else would be calling you?” The crackle of single static did nothing to smother the tired contempt in her voice, “Can’t you even take a moment to check the name of whoever is calling you, or are you just that careless? Then I get greeted with attitude like that!”
Her fringe curtained the edge of her vision.
“Sorry.”
“Who else would even have been calling you?” Then, mocking, “Is it a boy?”
Toko didn’t want to give her an answer she already knew, but ignoring her would be worse. “No.”
She sighed, “I don’t even know why I bothered asking.”
Toko tightened her fist on her lap. There were advantages to talking on the phone. The end call button glowed brighter than it usually did. “Well, lovely talking to you as always mother, but I am-”
“Sorry, is there something more pressing that you need to get to? After everything I’ve sacrificed for you, you can’t even spend two minutes on the phone with me. I don’t know what I did to be saddled with such an ungrateful child. This is what I mean. You can’t be mine. My daughter wouldn’t have actually been worthwhile to speak to and wouldn’t be so careless as to not even check the caller ID on her phone before picking it up. What? What?”
Toko grit her teeth. She tried, but it was impossible to keep her tone in check. “W-Why are you calling, then?! I-I’m in the middle of writing you know-”
“Well, if that’s what you were doing it’s a good thing I called. You can stop that right now.”
Toko narrowed her eyes, “Why would I-“
“I’ve signed you up for a new deal with a publishing company. It’s for the Christmas period, so you’ll need to get it out quickly, so unless you can use any of what you’ve written already I’d just scrap it all. He’ll discuss the details with you at the dinner I’ve set up with all of us-”
Toko stood up from her chair. It rolled a little away from her. The laptop she’d abandoned was the only thing lighting her room. “W-Wait a minute-”
“So at least make sure to look presentable for that, if you can manage it. Shower, maybe, for once in your life. You reek, you know? That’s why I always had to force you when you were younger.”
It was all it took. A blink, and she was no longer set in time. The next moment, she was a child again, seven, nine, eleven, fighting for breath against her tears, then against the water. So much water. A rushing cacophony of spray and blood in her ears and her heart spasming it beat so fast in her tightening chest. But the water kept coming. Soaked and cold. She could feel it now, more than she could feel it then. The cold and the wet didn’t matter, all that mattered was the next time she’d be able to breathe. She’d handle it, she’d suffer her mother’s rough grip and the water (so much water) if it only meant she could breathe again, breathe now, breathe, breathe, breathe-
A breath in, a breath out. She closed her eyes and opened them again. She was in her room. She could see her bed, the window, the laptop she’d abandoned, her new book, now useless, sitting and waiting for her to return. She watched its screen turn black as it hibernated. She adjusted her grip on her phone, the sweat on her hands making it moist. Her mother was still talking.
“...If I was going to be saddled with some whore’s kid I wasn’t going to have people thinking we were a dirty family. People will think I’m a bad mother! But that's how it is, see. I want anything done, I’ve got to do it myself, haven’t I? If it wasn’t for me, we’d be penniless and you’d be stuck writing on that stupid website-blog-thing again. Never got a thank you for that either. Don’t worry about that. I don’t have anything better to be doing than managing you.”
“M-Mother, but- I-” Her fist was so tight it hurt, “Why?!” She began to pace. She pushed a hand through her hair. She whacked her glasses on the way, the sat slightly ajar, she hardly noticed, “I-I thought we agreed after the last one that I’d be able to write my own stories again-”
“Oh Toko!” Her tone made her stop dead in her tracks, as if she were here, as if she was more than just a voice on a phone, “I knew it! See- yeah, she’s complaining!” There was muffled talking. A pathetic whimpering that couldn’t be anyone but her useless father, “No, I told you she’d be like this, I told you! No amount of schooling will teach her how to be grateful.”
Toko shook. She hated that it showed in her voice, “Y-You p-p-promised!”
“Oh Toko, why do you insist on making me the villain?! All I’m doing is helping and it always just gets thrown in my face!”
Another deal. Another pointless waste of her time and talent. Another book of nonsense not worth the paper it was printed on rushed out through sleepless nights with coffee blurred vision and caffeine shakes. Another season wasted. Another draft of something new, something better, pushed to the side until it had been so long any passion she’d have for it was drained away. Another project left to rust, and another lump sum in her mother’s bank that she’d only see a ghost of a penny of.
“I’m not doing it!” She snapped, louder and nastier than she’d ever usually risk. But they weren’t here, she reminded herself. There was nothing they could do to her here. “I don’t want to write another serial for some washed up romance publisher, I-I want-”
“I want! I want! Me, me, me!” Toko swallowed her words. All at once, she was pathetic again, 3 feet tall and 8 years old again. “You know what I want? I want a bigger house and a nicer car and a husband that’s actually worthwhile! I want a holiday in Paris and a martini on the beach and the body I had in my twenties before I ruined myself giving birth to your dead sister back! I had plans, and I gave up those plans to raise you and I do all this for you. I send you to that school. I pay for your rent and your food, and I take time out of my day to set up these opportunities for you and you just throw them all in my face every single time! Whining in that pathetic little voice- You sound exactly like your mother, you know that? That pathetic waste - Yes, I’m talking about you!”
Their bickering continued, both mothers snapping at each other without care for anyone else around them. Now and again, she could hear her dried out wet wipe of a father trying to chip in and mediate. They didn’t even pause for breath, forget take in a word he had to say.
Inside Toko, pressure built. And the longer she stayed gripping her phone hard enough she wished it would break, listening to them bitch and throw insults, the more the pressure grew.
She hung up the phone with an unnecessary amount of violence and threw it across the room. It smacked against the wall, but Toko hardly cared. She pulled her nails through her hair and grit her teeth till they sang. She stormed across the room, picked up her pillow, and screamed. She screamed and screamed, and the pillow did nothing to smoother it. She screamed until her neighbour banged on the wall. She sat up and banged it back. The plaster smarted against her fist. The sting was relieving, vindicating, somehow. She collapsed, curled up in a ball.
There was no way out. The walls closed in, the doors of her future she’d started to peek through slammed shut-in front of her. Then, feeling weak and shameful, Toko made everything worse by crying.
-
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there. It had been dark when they’d called her, and it was still dark now. Toko guessed it was anywhere between an hour after they called or 3 in the morning. A ding sounded through the empty room, and Toko finally surfaced. She ignored it at first, but a second ding sounding again as a reminder a minute later frustrated her enough that she roughly shoved her hands through her blankets in search of the thing. She had thought about just putting it to silent mode and throwing it away from her again, but when she caught sight of her screen, she paused.
> Are you awake?
It was Komaru. Her innocent question somehow seeming accusatory as it stared at her from her cracked home screen.
She pondered if she’d even bother responding. She picked at a piece of the glass on her screen that had broken away.
< No.
Komaru responded instantly.
> Oh…
Then,
> HEY!
A bubble appeared, showing Komaru was typing. It pulsed for a while, then disappeared, only to pop up again.
> why r u awake?
< Why are you asking me that? You text me first.
> looool
Then, nothing. Toko really, really didn’t want to talk about any of this, especially to Komaru. There’s no way some happy family girl like her could even begin to conceptualise what she’s had to live with, forget understanding any of the pain Toko suffered.
Still, it was curious. It wasn’t strange per-say for Komaru to be up this late, but the nature of the message this late at night is what made Toko pause. She didn’t have the energy for anything stupid right now, and if this was nothing, she wanted to end it quickly.
< I’m always up this late. Why are you up, miss beauty sleep?
> cant sleep
Oh. Toko didn’t expect her to be so direct.
She wasn’t sure what to say to that. It wasn’t like Komaru to struggle with, well, anything. Not emotionally anyway. She always seemed so carefree, sometimes to the point of idiocy. Turns out, Toko didn’t need to say anything anyway. Before her screen could darken, a new message came through.
> weird question…
> feel free to say no its totally fine…
A longer pause this time. Then,
> do u want to go somewhere with me? (｡･･｡)
Toko’s brow furrowed. This was just becoming weirder.
< When?
> like…now?
< Now???
> now.
> is that weird (｡･･｡)
At the top of her phone, the clock read 22:18.
< Yes.
> Oh…
> (╥﹏╥)
Despite all her abilities, Toko didn’t know what to say. She thought about it, but unlike how she’d typically feel, her instinct wasn’t to immediately say no. Her tears had dried on her face, her mind felt empty in a drained, rough sort of way. Like she’d been scrubbed completely clean of any ability to think or feel any way about anything.
Komaru was reaching out. Maybe before she wouldn’t have been able to recognise that, but with the amount of time she’d spent with Komaru, things she’d never noticed before were suddenly becoming obvious. Of course, there was also the bet. That hung over every interaction they had, at least it did for Toko. Did she really have the space to be denying any opportunity with Komaru if she wanted to achieve her goal?
She looked around her dark room. She’d been sitting in her bed for so long now that it was starting to be uncomfortable. Her laptop stared at her from where she’d left it, but after all that, writing was the last thing she wanted to do. She thought about how long there was until the morning. She thought about how she’d spend the next few hours tossing and turning, unable to sleep, unable to do anything but stare at the ceiling, then her wall, then her room, then the ceiling again. She imagined, instead, just a few hours outside of this room, away from what lingered in the air. She imagined Komaru. The answer came easily.
< Where?
The second she sent the message she regretted it. Stomach cramping with nerves as she imagined instead the rejection, the ball dropping and proving that it was a joke all along, that of course she didn’t actually want to see her. And Komaru was going to know that she-
> (˚0˚)!!
> YAY!!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉
> theres this place I want to show you
> its not far from ur school!!!
> I swear we’ll be done b4 the last train!!!!!
Toko wiped the smile off of her face, scowling at no one and nothing in particular.
< Fine. But I’m not paying for your taxi home if you miss it.
> aww srsly??
< Omaru!!!
> ok ok sorry!!!! (｡>\\<)
> im just really excited hahaha
> im so happy I text you ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
> I almost didnt but then I just thought to hell with it ykno?
Toko’s grip on her phone tightened. Her scowl shook and threatened to morph into something Toko didn’t want to address.
< WHERE OMARU
> AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-
“It’s just ahead.” Komaru promised.
Toko had never been up this way before. She wasn’t sure she’d even noticed that there was a hillside this close to Hope’s Peak, though that wasn’t saying very much. Toko didn’t leave her room unless it was to go to class. Or, rather, she didn’t remember it if she did. They’d been walking up a concrete pathed incline, but even with the infrastructure, the way the foliage crept just a bit too far over the edge of the walkway and the way the vines tangled against each other made Toko feel like this wasn’t exactly a path well tread. The path curved along the incline, bringing them in a circle, then just before Toko could complain about how far they’d come already, it opened out.
Sitting alone on the flat top of this hill was a park. Old and rusted, Toko confirmed the idea in her head that this area wasn’t as loved as maybe it was once. The park was simple, owning only a swingset, a slide connected to a climbing frame, and a rocking horse shaped like a white duck, long white neck patched with dirt and its yellow beak chipped a little where it had hit the ground one too many times sitting still in the wet woodchips. With the leaves on the trees just about changing and throwing weird and shifting shadows across the park, and their thick trunks huddling together, obscuring their surroundings into darkness, the park cut a creepy and unappealing shape. But that wasn’t where Komaru was headed. She ignored the play park and walked towards a picnic bench that sat on a overgrown patch of grass waiting by the fenced off overlook.
Komaru leaned on the fence, and when Toko caught up, she understood why Komaru came here.
Though the stars were bashful in the sky, with only the strongest brave enough to show their faces, the countless number of city lights from the streets and the cars and the buildings made up for their absence. A million of artificial stars fallen from the grace and shining up bright and spiteful enough to block out the sky that disgraced them. The late autumn sky was clear. Toko was a bit jealous of the stylish puffer jacket Komaru was wearing, but simply on a practical basis. Though it wasn’t really that cold yet, up here the wind easily cut through the oversized cardigan she relied on. With how overwhelming everything was down there, the lights, the people, the towering, claustrophobic buildings, Toko had never once considered how it could be beautiful.
“Pretty, right?”
Toko didn’t say anything in response. Half stubbornness, half unwilling to break the quiet atmosphere any more than she had to with something unnecessary. Even Komaru spoke softer, and Toko thought that maybe she could feel it too.
Komaru leaned more of her weight onto the fence, “I’ve never been up here in the dark. None of my friends from school will walk with me this late. I mean, it’s not exactly the safest place, so I can’t really blame them. But I’ve always thought it’d be a really nice place to think.”
“I’m just happy you can think at all.”
“Rude.” Komaru pouted, “But, you can’t say I was wrong.”
Toko sighed and joined her at the fence, hiding her hands from the autumn night’s chill in the long sleeves of her cardigan, “N-No. I can’t.” The wind played with Komaru’s hair, lifting it around her face in soft waves that fell neatly back into place, a few stray strands curving out against the rest. Toko brushed her own loose fringe behind her ear and wondered why she noticed something so stupid.
“S-So,” She croaked. Komaru gave her her attention, and even though that's what she’d wanted, someone’s eyes on her always made her feel nervous. Like her skin was suddenly not sitting right on her bones and they were going to notice. Toko fussed with her sleeves the longer Komaru stood there looking at her and not saying anything despite…everything. She closed her eyes in an attempt to soothe her irritation. “…L-Let’s get this over with.” She mumbled through the wool of her cardigan sleeve she now chewed on.
“What do you mean?”
Toko growled, “Stop playing coy, O-Omaru. I k-know there’s something you want to say, just s-say it.”
Komaru scoffed in offense, suddenly skittish and stiff. “Y-You have no tact, you know? For a romance author, you seriously have no eye for building up tension!”
“W-What’s there to build up to?! W-We’re just wasting time. It’s not like you aren’t going to explain to me why you’re even out here.”
Komaru spluttered, face turning red for reasons Toko couldn’t understand, “W-Well, why are you out here?!”
“Y-Y-YOU CAN’T ASK ME THAT! YOU’RE THE ONE WHO D-DRAGGED ME HERE!”
“WELL, YOU COULD’VE SAID NO!” Komaru retaliated, hands on her hips. Toko scowled and turned away, but Komaru kept going, “It’s late and cold and you still said yes and came out with me, so what’s on your mind, Fukawa?”
“Don’t pass this off to me!” Toko snapped, “If you keep beating around the bush like this, you’re walking home alone in the dark!”
Komaru scrambled for some sort of rebuttal but obviously came up short. She huffed and pouted, and Toko started to think she’d gotten cold for nothing.
“...How about rock paper scissors?” Komaru tried.
Toko thought about it for a second, sighed, then turned to her, “Fine.”
They played best of 3, only after Komaru insisted when they played one round, and she lost. But when their fists swung down on the third count of three, and Komaru was holding rock (again) and Toko predicted it and countered it with paper, the vindication made all the annoyance worth it.
“Damn it!” Komaru cursed.
Toko made no attempt at hiding how smug she felt, “There! N-Now talk, Omaru.”
Komaru stormed away to the picnic bench, climbed up on the seat and dropped down onto the tabletop in a huff, “KO-maru”
“I’ll leave you here! G-Good luck when you're kidnapped and sold for slavery on the black market! A b-breasty schoolgirl like you would probably sell for millions!”
“F-Fine! Fine.” She held up her hands in defeat before she slumped over, her elbows resting on her jeaned thighs and her head perched on her fists. She mulled it over, an unsure twist to her lips before she confessed, “Well…It just all feels so stupid now.”
“Everything you do is stupid, ‘Omaru. I don’t doubt this would be any different.”
Komaru smacked a hand down onto the damp wood tabletop, “Jeez, Fukawa! Can’t you ever go easy on me?!”
The reaction startled Toko. She slumped backwards, shoulders up in stiff apology, “S-Sorry…” She sighed, and as embarrassing as it was to admit, she felt bad. She hadn’t actually wanted to upset her. Komaru’s cheeks were apple red, and she looked everywhere but at Toko. “Y-You know I’m useless with this stuff” She grumbled, “I-It’s your fault for choosing me to talk to when you’re feeling…W-Well, however you’re feeling.” She narrowed her eyes, looking Komaru up and down as she moped, and finally asked a question that had been bugging her from the moment Komaru messaged her, “W-Why did you text me anyway?”
Komaru shrugged shallowly, “...My other friends wouldn’t have cared.” As if her words only registered as they left her mouth, Komaru shot up, back straight and eyes wide, scrambling to take them back, “AH! That makes them sound bad, I don’t mean that they’re bad people or anything! Just more…Maybe…They wouldn’t really understand.” Komaru sighed, looking down at her trainers, “It’s just that lately, I’ve started to think that we’re not really as similar as I thought we were. But I don’t know why. Just something about me feels…Different.”
Toko had not been expecting that. Toko slowly walked up to Komaru, joining her on the bench quietly as Komaru continued, “They’re really nice, and you know, we have similar interests, and I like talking to them but…I don’t know. I can’t explain it.” She tucked a hair behind her ear and shrugged, grazing Toko with her gaze, “And, I don’t know, I kind of figured you might sort of…Understand how that feels.”
Toko scoffed and ground out a dry, “Thanks.”
“N-No! I just mean…Well.” She sighed deeply and started tugging nervously on the sleeve of her coat, “I told them about my dream, about wanting to write manga.” She huffed a laugh through a small, sad smile, “They all laughed at me. None of them took it seriously. I don’t think they meant it in a mean way, I think they just really thought I was joking. Like it couldn’t possibly be something that I would ever be serious about, so they didn’t think to take it seriously at all. I didn’t tell anyone after that. Not until you.” Toko’s eyes widened, and when Komaru looked at her, a pinch in her eyes that clutched Toko’s heart, she felt frozen, “It really means a lot to me that you took me so seriously, and that you try so hard to help me reach my goal. No one else has believed in me like that.”
Well, wasn’t that just a punch in the tit.
Toko had to look away, because the more she had to face Komaru’s sincere expression, the more she wanted to run to the fence along the side of the cliff and vomit over it.
“W-What about your brother?” Toko scrambled with the question, trying desperately to find some sort of way out of the hole of guilt Komaru had kicked her into. Komaru’s expression was all the answer she needed. It was a shock, for about one whole second. Then Toko remembered that one truth of life she’d always known; no one is what they seem, no matter how well they play the part. Toko struggled for a moment, then shrugged, a shot in the dark, “Your parents?”
Something about that hit a nerve. Komaru rolled her eyes, and her tone got a little sharper, “That wouldn’t matter either way. Nothing I do matters to them anymore ever since Makoto got into Hope’s Peak. Even if I did tell them, they’d probably laugh just as hard as my friends did. Then Makoto would come home, and they wouldn’t remember I’d even said anything to begin with.”
“What?”
“He’s the golden boy, you know? I mean, it makes sense. I’m proud of him too. It’s awesome. I look up to him loads. To have gotten into Hope’s Peak and to tough it out, like, that’s amazing! His grades are really good, and he always seems to be having so much fun. I’m genuinely happy for him.”
“...But?”
Komaru sighed and looked out over the millions of streetlights that sparkled below them, “...It’d just be nice, if there was still room left for a normal girl like me.”
A quiet spilled over them in the wake of her words. A heavy emotion drenched them, and Toko felt like maybe she was supposed to say something, but there was nothing worthwhile she could think to say. Probably because these revelations had her half buried in her thoughts. Komaru seriously struggled with stuff like this? Toko would’ve never thought it. Everything about Komaru’s life seemed so perfect. Though, when Toko thought about it properly, struggling with things like this just made her all the more normal. Toko wished her problems were as simple as Komaru’s.
“Lately,” Komaru started, a rasp to her voice that sounded a little painful, “I just feel like it’s already too late for me to be anything, now that he’s something. It’s not like I want a talent or anything. I don’t care about that. I just hate how no matter what I do, I won't even hold a candle up to even the most basic things he does.”
Toko scoffed, “Well that’s just bullshit.”
Komaru snapped to attention, like she’d even forgotten there was someone listening at all. “Huh?!”
“It’s bullshit, ‘Omaru. That’s a pile of bullshit so massive it has its own gravitational pull! Hope’s Peak-” Toko sneered, “It’s nothing but a name. That school, it’s worse than any normal high school if you ask me. We have no direction, no rules, nothing else matters as long as we’re ‘working on our talent’. You talk about Naegi like he’s a God or something. His talent isn’t even real! Do you know how lame a talent ‘luck’ is? It’s so lame there's two lucky students there! What the hell does it even mean to be ‘lucky’? You don’t have to do anything to be lucky, you just-just are! So what, N-Naegi’s born and suddenly we should b-bow down to him? Fuck that.” She glared at Komaru, “You’re actually out here working towards a goal. To me, that’s way more impressive than some stupid label like ‘Ultimate’, regardless of what the goal actually is. So stop wasting so much time worrying so much about other people’s worthless opinions on you.” Toko’s back hunched as she grabbed her knees. She watched the way her knuckles turned white. Her mouth twisted tight; she mumbled sternly, and felt like a hypocrite with every word, no matter how much she meant it, “Only you can decide what's best for you. It’s your life and yours only. You have to live it whatever way that’s right for you.” She sighed, and resignation turned her posture slack, “Jeez, seriously. Y-You should try getting some real problems, then you’ll see that none of this stupid stuff you’re worrying about now matters at all.”
She risked a glance at Komaru, her silence scratching her skin like a rash. The quiet let her words sink in, and anxiety dropped like a stone in a pond into her stomach as she realised that that probably wasn’t what she was supposed to say to something like that. Toko didn’t know how to comfort. She’d never had any examples to replicate.
But a single look at Komaru, and Toko swore her eyes outshone the stars. She smiled, and Toko wanted to make a wish on it. It made her think that maybe she’d done okay. Wasn’t that novel? Maybe she really could do this whole friendship thing, fake or not.
“Maybe you’re right.”
Toko fussed with her braid and watched the way it pulled through her fists rather than face whatever was in Komaru’s eyes and how it made her feel for any longer,
“O-Of course I am.” She snipped. Then, back straight, she spat “Fuck Naegi.”
“No.” Komaru said with the same guilty hesitance of someone denying themselves a slice of cake they actually really wanted, “He’s sweet.”
However bitter and mean Toko knew she was, even she couldn’t deny that. Her defiance dropped out of her, and she huddled back into the soft comfort of her cardigan. She stared out to the view beneath them. A thousand or more people all living different and distinct lives. Not one different, not one special, just some worse than others. It made Toko feel small. Most things did. But, at least now, it didn’t feel lonely.
“...I’ve never told anyone any of that before.”
Komaru said that to her a lot. Was it real? Maybe before she’d have doubts. Now…
Toko tried not to think about what that could mean, the possible implication of it all. Even just the edge of the thought made her heart palpitate in all the wrong ways, made her feel like she was choking on fresh air.
Komaru shuffled up to her until their thighs touched, jeans against joggers.
“Tell me something.” Komaru said, her voice soft as the moonlight. Toko nearly missed what she said, her attention much too occupied by the sensation of warmth that buzzed through her joggers and resonated in her bones like a chord.
“W-What?” Toko coughed.
“It’s your turn. You have to tell me something now to make it even!”
Toko chewed her thumb and looked away. Komaru whined, grabbing her arm and shaking her,
“Come on! That was our deal!”
Even so far out of context, the mere mention of a deal sipping from Komaru’s lips made her stomach clench. She snatched herself away and barked,
“T-There was no deal, I-I didn’t agree to a-anything!”
“Aw, Fukawa!”
“I-It’s not like it's something as easy to brush off as your problems you know?”
“They aren’t easy to brush off for me!” Komaru snapped, “Okay, it’s not the worst thing that can happen to someone, but it still hurts.” Toko looked away and told herself she wasn’t pouting. She sensed Komaru straining to get her attention, but didn’t give in, “But,” Komaru continued regardless, “Just because this hurts me, doesn’t mean I can’t handle worse.”
Toko bit into her thumb. This…Was a friendship thing, wasn’t it?
But if the friendship was fake, why did she even need to entertain it? No, maybe that wasn’t the right question. Maybe it was better to ask why Komaru had engaged. Could she be lying? Toko remembered the look she’d given her, and didn’t want to think she was.
But those questions didn’t really matter in the end, because despite everything, Toko wanted to speak, and it was Komaru she wanted to hear her.
Maybe she was letting her heart get in the way of her head. But it was hard to ignore when it had been hurt so badly tonight, and here was Komaru, offering to patch its wounds. Toko didn’t know how to say no to something like that, she never had. It had gotten her in more trouble than it was worth.
“My mum called me.” Toko folded herself deeper into her cardigan. “She’s a cunt.”
She felt Komaru flinch next to her, “O-Oh.”
“I don’t care what you have to say about respecting your parents!” Toko rushed to say, “She doesn’t deserve respect. Neither of them do.”
“You’re dad’s bad too, huh?” Komaru eventually replied, her tone walking on eggshells. Toko clenched her jaw, already regretting words she had yet to say.
“Yeah.” How much was she really willing to reveal? How was she even supposed to explain the colossal fucked up mess that was her life? But before the thought had even finished, the words left her mouth, “And so is my other mum.”
“O-Other…?”
Toko swallowed the chaser of regret like a rock. Toko hated this. Why the hell did she say anything at all? She curled deeper into her cardigan.
“You mean a stepmother or something?” Komaru asked hesitantly, and Toko’s last nerve snapped.
“If I’d meant stepmother I would’ve said stepmother!”
“Y-You have two mums?!”
Toko sighed. That newly familiar feeling, that she’d let herself get too deep before she could realise it and stop, returned. The feeling made friends with resignation. Nowadays, they came as a pair.
“Yes.” Strangely, the words didn’t come as easily as she’d expected. Stories were her forte. Now she had to tell her own, no words seemed right. Komaru was waiting expectantly but waiting all the same. She closed her eyes and decided that the bare facts would have to be enough.
“When I was born, another baby was born at the exact same time in the same hospital. But she didn’t make it. Unfortunately, because of a mix-up, the nurses didn’t know which baby belonged to which mother. So…Both had to accept the baby.” Toko shrugged, “Two mums.”
Toko couldn’t have made it any clearer if she tried, but Komaru still seemed confused, “Couldn’t they have done a DNA test or something?”
Irritation scratched with the banality of the question, “Obviously they thought of that.” Even through all her snapping and biting, Komaru’s expression stayed soft. Toko sighed. She stared at the scuffs on her trainers, at the cracks in the wood beneath them, and resignation returned. “Both women declined. Maybe for a normal mother, it would have been too much to take to know that your baby had died.” She smiled, but it was more a grimace; dry and sharply humourless, “For my mothers, the burden was to know that their’s was still alive.” Her smile, even as insincere as it was, didn’t last. It was strange. Though this was a truth she had lived with her whole life, speaking the words out loud was different. It felt different, more real. She shook off the feeling. It wouldn’t do her any good. “As if this wasn’t enough, it turns out they both had slept with the same man around the same time. My father. So, they got stuck with me. No, more like I got stuck with them.” Komaru was quiet, and it rubbed Toko all the wrong ways. She bristled, “D-Don’t go thinking you can steal my sh-shitty life story for profit either, Omaru. Not that anyone would want to read a manga with a protagonist as vile and ugly as me.”
“Fukawa…” Komaru could seem to do nothing but blink dumbly at her, “That’s…Nuts.”
Toko gaped at her.
“T-That’s it?!” Toko squawked, “Y-You’re supposed to say ‘no Fukawa!! You aren’t ugly! You’re pretty inside and out!’ O-or something equally cheesy! Not st-stand around with an expression like I just a-ate your cat!”
“S-Sorry! Sorry! It’s just…That’s a lot to take in all at once.”
A sickly shame boiled over within her, “Y-You’re the one who insisted! I told you it would be too much for you. You can’t blame me now that you’re uncomfortable and regretting it.”
“No, it’s not that! I don’t regret it, not even a little bit!” Komaru’s pleading just weakened her case in Toko’s mind. She scoffed at her, shrinking away with her teeth tearing against her thumb with no remorse. “It's just…” Komaru continued, though Toko wished she wouldn’t, “I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t, dumbass!” She snapped, but nothing about her anger soothed her. If anything, seeing Komaru flinch at her outburst just made her shame worse. She swallowed as much of her frustration as she could and pulled her knees up with her feet on the table she sat on, adjusting so she could hug them properly. “I-I’ve never told anyone that before.” She mumbled, the truth of her words dawning on her as soon as she spoke to them. She took a moment just to make sure her voice didn’t shake when she grumbled with lacklustre annoyance, “How could you possibly be expected to know?”
The wind blew, the leaves sighing as they shivered. A hair caught in Toko’s mouth, and she scratched it out with unnecessary force.
Komaru shifted hesitantly, “What was the call about?”
Toko scoffed, “What? My t-tragic backstory i-isn’t enough for you? N-Need more material to create a s-sympathetic character?”
“It’s totally crazy Fukawa, don’t get me wrong. I can’t even imagine going through like, half of that.” She peered at her, like a hunter through the sights of a gun. Toko felt frozen, with the target on her chest. “It’s just…I don’t think something like that would have been why you were upset tonight.” Toko tucked her chin stubbornly into her knees, Komaru persisted, “What did your mum say to you on that call?”
Toko continued to abuse her thumb. The sting of previous attacks made her hold back a hiss. Should she tell more? Could she?
Toko wondered why it was even a question, when the answer should be a firm and obvious no. What had happened all the other times she’d dared to open up with things smaller than this?
But, Komaru hadn’t laughed, even when she’d nearly begged her to with that completely unfunny joke. Moreso, Komaru hadn’t left. Even more than that, Komaru had believed her. The concept made Toko want to laugh in a completely hysterical and pathetic kind of way that wasn’t really laughter at all. Komaru really was an intolerably massive idiot.
“They’ve sold me into another publishing deal.”
“That’s…Good, right?”
Toko flung her arm out in frustration and shouted, “N-No, obviously not!” She growled, ripping a hand through her hair to pointlessly fling her fringe out of her face, her feet stamping down to the seat below her again so harshly the table shook, “T-This publisher - all they want is the same, formulaic, bodice-ripper trash that anyone and their dog could write! I hate it. I hate having to degrade myself and my art by writing this shit! But I don’t have a choice. I have to. I have to push aside my own passions and ideas o-or defile them by turning them into this slop all because it's what they want. A-And there’s nothing I can do about it. Not while I’m still under their thumb.” The fight left her. A slow then sudden drop back into the tiring reality, where any amount of anger expressed is anger wasted in the face of something so inescapable. “Until the second I turn 18 years old, they own me. They own my s-soul, all because my u-useless, whore of a father couldn’t put a sock on his chode for 5 fucking minutes.” Her hands turned to fists, as stubborn and tight as her expression, “But soon, I won’t have to deal with that anymore. I-I’ll be rich, and I’ll have someone who will protect me and love me. And one day those bastards will die, and I’ll sleep better knowing they’re burning in hell.”
Until I die and join them, anyway.
But that won't matter then. At least they’d all be getting what they deserved. Toko just hoped the life she’d live before that was soft enough to maybe mean it was all worth something in the end. All this suffering had to amount to something. Wasn’t that what hope was all about? If not…
She didn’t want to think about this.
“Fukawa…” Komaru whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
“W-What the hell do you have to be sorry for?” Toko scoffed. She moved on from her thumb and attacked her index finger instead. “Like ‘sorry’ would fix anything.”
“I’m not trying to fix anything.” Komaru said, serious and stable as stone, “I am sorry, genuinely. I’m sorry you have to live like this. It’s horrible. You don’t deserve it.”
Toko rolled her eyes, “No one does. It doesn’t matter what I do or don’t deserve.” She sighed, hugged her knees and with her head resting on them she stared out into the brightly lit horizon of the night. She breathed, and with a contemptuous curl of her lip, she grumbled, “Nothing about me matters.”
“No, that’s wrong!” Toko flinched, harsher than necessary, but it was hard not to when Komaru’s words were as powerful as a gunshot. Her passion didn’t waver, she grabbed Toko by her arms, “Don’t you say that! Never ever say that Fukawa!” Komaru shook her as she spoke, and even with tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes, the power in her voice frightened her stiff, “You matter, Fukawa! You matter to me! These are my truest feelings, and you have no right to deny my feelings! You matter, Fukawa, and that’s the truth. So, don’t ever say that again! Promise me!”
“O-Okay, okay fine! Jeez, c-calm down!”
She stopped shaking her, but kept her hands in place, warm and unnatural on her shoulders. “Call me.” She was so serious she was basically glaring, “The next time they talk to you, or you feel sad or lonely or anything Fukawa, call me. Please.” There was a hitch in her voice, she smoothed down Toko’s arms, hands dragging goosebumps down their path until she grabbed her hands and Toko was frozen, “Promise me you’ll tell me.” Somehow her voice got softer, but it lost none of its conviction, “I’ll be there for you, Fukawa. I’ll take you away from all of it.”
She couldn’t comprehend this. Not a single angle of it, no matter how hard she tried. But it was hard to try at all, with Komaru holding her like it was easy and saying things to her she knew she couldn’t accept. Both her brain and heart targeted and destroyed all at once. With neither to hide behind, she was fully exposed, Komaru crashing through her defences like a tidal wave. She scrambled for air, for a solid ground to stand on amongst the waves.
“S-See?” She croaked. The embarrassment only highlighted to her how hot her face was already. She swallowed, “B-Being an author isn’t all f-fun and g-games. T-There’s politics to it too, if you want to get your work out there.”
“Stop doing that.”
Toko’s posture stiffened, “D-Doing w-what?”
“Making everything about my manga and writing.” Still, Komaru held her hands. Toko wanted her to let go. She didn’t pull her hands away. “I know you’re trying to teach me and everything but like…” She closed her eyes, posture gearing up, and Toko tensed and leaned away, ready for an outburst. Then Komaru finally exploded, “I like you, Fukawa!”
The bubble surrounding Toko popped. She scrambled away, almost falling off the table, “W-W-WHAT?!”
Komaru’s face was painfully red, “N–N-NOT LIKE THAT! S-Sorry! Sorry, that totally came out wrong! I like you as a friend I mean!” She sighed, and the colour drained a bit from her face. Her smile was a bit too wide, tinged with embarrassment. The knots the confession tied into Toko’s stomach slowly unravelled. “Even without the lessons, you’re my friend, Fukawa. So, let me help you carry this load.” She took her hand again and Toko didn’t stop her, “Please,” She begged, “Don’t suffer alone anymore.”
The night sky stretched out for miles. Behind, ahead, and all around them it was more hazy light pollution fog than star studded. But whatever stars she could imagine if she squinted were nothing compared to the sparkle in Komaru’s eyes clear as crystal right before her.
Toko laughed at her just so she wouldn’t start crying. It was a glass laugh, and swallowing it was just as difficult. And maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was still hopelessly naive and pathetic, and maybe this would all come to an end with a knife in her back so deep it split her heart just like it had done all those times before. But the way Komaru looked at her, the way she held her made her hope all over again, that things could be different this time.
“O-Okay.”
Standing in a sea, murky and grey, she couldn’t see her feet through the wash. But she stayed standing. The waves licked at her calves without threat. Toko could stand here, and maybe, she could learn to relax into it.
-
“So…”
Toko stopped in her tracks on their way back down the mountain side path, “I don’t like that tone.”
She liked Komaru’s sheepish grin even less, “Remember when I said we’d be done before the last train…?”
“Omaru…” Toko growled.
-
Deciding to let Komaru stay at her dorm had been easy. Until Komaru got involved, and suddenly, it was a lot more than just Komaru sleeping on her floor until the first train arrived. The moment Komaru had said “sleepover”, Toko had regretted the entire thing.
“N-Never mind.” Toko had gurgled weakly, “C-Call a taxi. Right now. Walk. A-Anything.”
“Actually, I can’t.” Komaru said, and Toko couldn’t’ miss the proud note in her voice, “I don’t have any money to pay them, and my mum will kill me if she finds out I snuck out like this.”
That made Toko stop.
“...You snuck out?”
Komaru shrugged, but even in the dim light of the night Toko could see the pride she badly brushed away.
“Wow.” Toko grinned sleazily, “Who knew you were such a bad girl, O-Omaru. Y-Your sex appeal just went up by 5 points. Wait until Maizono finds out about this. She’ll be gushing.”
“Ew don’t say gushing, that’s gross!” Komaru scoffed, “It’s not like I’m doing anything bad! They just don’t want me to be out late! D-Don’t tell Maizono!” She took a moment to contemplate, then failed at an unaffected shrug, “I-I mean…Unless you think she’d think it’s cool, then-”
“Lesbo.”
“I-I’m not a lesbo for Maizono!”
After that, it was out of her hands completely. There was no changing Komaru’s mind on the matter.
She was insistent they stop at a FamilyMart before going back to her dorm. Toko didn’t understand everything she was picking up, but if you asked her to guess, she’d say medieval torture devices. When they finally got to her room, and Komaru revealed it to be face masks and nail polish and sweets, Toko had never been more upset to be right before in her life.
It had been so long since someone had been in her room, it was a little off putting. She quickly looked around to see if there was anything embarrassing or incriminating laying around. At least it was mildly clean. The most that was wrong was her still ruffled bed sheets from her earlier breakdown.
Huh…That had been tonight, hadn’t it? Strange. Now, it felt a lifetime away.
Her eyes caught some dirty underwear she hadn’t put away, and in the short amount of time she took her eyes off Komaru to throw them in a drawer out of sight, Komaru had found something.
It had become so natural to Toko, that she’d honestly forgotten it was strange. As typical to her as her bed and her desk, she hadn’t considered once through this entire ordeal the other occupant of her dorm.
Komaru peered into the enclosure that lived on the top of a chest of drawers in her room, and flinched bodily when she found its inhabitant.
Komaru looked a little pale, “I-Is that a-a-a-”
“She’s a dung beetle.” She wasn’t embarrassed, but it definitely felt similar, she pulled on her braids, “H-Her name is Kameko.”
Komaru stared at her, blinked, then looked at the enclosure again, “...Oh, yeah. Sure. Okay.” Toko suffered through another stiff moment of silence before Komaru broke, hands on her knees, she chuckled and shook her head, “You’re so weird.”
Toko pretended she wasn’t blushing, “W-We have an understanding. We’re both unwanted, vile and ugly things that serve a greater purpose in the wider picture but are looked down upon anyway. Just because of what we like.”
“I think your books are a little more important than, um,” Komaru grimaced, “Poop.”
“E-Ecology would collapse without them!”
“Every jar has a lid, I suppose.” Komaru mused, “I don’t think I’ll ever understand this but honestly…The more I think about it…” She squinted at her from over her shoulder as a knowing smile grew wider on her face, “You’re actually really cute, aren’t you, Fukawa?”
Toko nearly fell over. She fumbled with her glasses, her knees knocking together, “B-Brave of you to m-m-make fun of me when you’re in my territory. I-I’ll take her out of her enclosure and make her c-c-crawl up your shirt when you sleep.”
Komaru hugged herself and squealed, “EW NO! DON’T YOU DARE!”
Toko really did wonder where the hell her life had gone so horribly wrong that she’d ended up in this position. She’d hoped that one day she’d see the end of her suffering. Now she was firmly arriving at the belief that she was put on this Earth to do nothing but suffer, like her entire life was some great punishment for some misdeed she’d committed in her previous life.
Whatever it was, it must have been bad to have her sitting on the floor of her dorm, hands trembling with embarrassment (which only furthered her embarrassment) as she attempted to paint Komaru’s nails while touching her hand as little as possible.
“Just hold my hand. It’ll be easier.”
Toko ignored her. It felt dangerous to do something so intimate. The fact she was even using the word intimate to describe the action just showed how dangerous it would be. She would’ve thought that how touchy Komaru had been with her already would’ve broken that barrier, but things were different here, and it was even more different for Toko to be the one to initiate instead of Komaru. The little their hands did touch made her sweat, and that sweat made it all the more aversive to want to touch her. She wasn’t used to this. None of this made sense, not how easily Komaru sat next to her or how easily she let her touch her, like she couldn’t think of a reason why she should shy away. Toko used the excuse that she was absorbed in her task to explain why she didn’t look up at her once. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew that if she looked up and saw Komaru sitting in the lamp light of her room, close enough their knees were inches away from brushing, letting her hold her so easily despite everything about herself, it would change something inside her. Toko didn’t want it. She didn’t even know what “it” was, but it terrified her, and that was enough.
“W-Well...There.” Toko said as she tried and failed to put the brush back in the nail polish pot in a manner that properly conveyed how over all of this she really was, lest Komaru get the wrong impression.
Komaru looked at her nails, an expression on her face Toko remembered from PE teachers when she’d finish running the mile.
“I-I told you it wouldn’t be any good!
“No! They’re…” Komaru’s expression shook, “Nice.” she managed without laughing.
“D-DON’T PATRONISE ME!”
“It’s fine! You’re so dramatic.” Komaru giggled, still looking at her nails with an embarrassing level of fondness that made Toko want to crawl under her covers and die. “They’re unique!”
“Fuck you.” Toko groaned, her hands over her face.
She refused the face mask outright. Komaru hadn’t let that stand. She’d chased her around her room until they collided and crashed together to the floor. Toko fought back, grappling against Komaru as she yelled.
A succession of hard, angry bangs against the joining wall of her and her neighbour’s room froze them both solid. And in that moment of weakness, Komaru snatched away Toko’s glasses and roughly smacked the cold, slimy mask onto her face,
“AHA! I WIN!”
A shot of spite almost convinced Toko to rip the mask off her face. Almost.
Instead, with Komaru straddling her stomach, prouder than she needed to be, set of white teeth on full display as she smiled behind her own stupid looking sheet facemask that stuck to her face unevenly, Toko let it go. She relaxed underneath her, and for a moment, just let it all be.
Until she couldn’t anymore, and she pushed Komaru off her and got up.
Later in the night, after the nail polish had dried, their masks had been removed, and their faces dried (Toko was endlessly pleased to find out she didnt have to wash the gunk off. That was a conversation she really didn’t want to have to approach tonight), they sat side by side on Toko’s bed, with her laptop between them playing a movie Toko was hardly paying attention to. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, more she couldn’t. There was way too much on her mind, and yet nothing there at all. The static storm in her brain coalesced around one singular point.
It was equally hard to watch the movie when all she wanted to watch was Komaru.
The centre of the storm in her mind was absorbed in the movie. Comfortable, despite being at her side. She tried again, just in case, to find an ulterior motive and once again came up dry. Maybe, she really could relax. Maybe this time, it’d be okay.
So, Toko relaxed. Bit by bit, and the moment she did, Komaru glanced at her and smiled. It lasted a second, possibly less, but Toko was suspended in the moment for much longer.
Friends…Real friends.
Tonight had been fun. That was as daunting as it was exciting.
The protagonists kissed on screen, a passionate collision of lips that had probably been building up since the start of the movie. Toko couldn’t tell. This was the first time she’d managed to properly pay attention. The girl’s eyebrows bowed with her desire as the boy leaned into her and the music swelled.
Oh, the bet.
Toko glanced at Komaru. She was close. She’d been close a lot tonight. So many opportunities wasted. Here, right now, it felt perfect. She could imagine it vividly, to the point she could nearly feel it. All it would take is a tap on her shoulder (her voice would not be strong enough to call out to her, if it wavered, so would her will) and Komaru would turn to her, lit softly in the electric gold of the lamp light, skin glowing, looking so soft sitting in one of Toko’s old shirts and pyjama bottoms. Toko could reach across and brush her fingers against her jaw to mould her face in place, lean in, pressure on the bed tipping Komaru closer to her, and kiss her before she could register what was happening. Her lips would taste sweet, yet chemical, left over residue from the sheet masks tainting her, but Toko wouldn’t mind. She probably didn’t taste all that good herself. But maybe, Komaru wouldn’t mind either. And music wouldn’t swell, and there would be no fanfare. It would just be them, together for a moment, then not. But maybe, that’d be all they’d need.
The kiss ended on screen, and her thoughts dissipated along with it.
It seemed easy enough. Right now, it seemed more possible than it ever had.
All she ever wanted, less than an arm’s length away.
She shifted, hands braced on the mattress either side of her, ready to lean over.
A nervousness seized her. But not one she was familiar with. It was something deeper, like an iron claw in her stomach that threatened to gut her if she moved even an inch. Suddenly, how things would change became clear to her. Not just this moment, but the moments before, any that could’ve been to come.
A friend. For the first time, a real one. Did she really want to ruin this?
Toko relaxed, slowly and jerkily. She pulled her knees up, hugged them, and the static subsided, and her thoughts calmed, and she could finally watch the movie.
She didn’t need to kiss Komaru now. There was plenty of time for that in the future. For now, all she wanted was this moment, just as it was. And that would be enough.
Notes:
i told u it was niceies.
Oh toko, ur really in it now.
Thank u for reading and sticking around!! AND for all the nice comments everyone's left already ;u; im so grateful everyone i enjoying~ I will try my best not to disappear like that again !
see u next time <3
edit: it's come to my attention much too late that stink bugs and dung beetles are two completely different insects. I litearlly thought "stink bug" was a cute nickname for dung beetles and didn't once think to double check that. And my beta reader just trusted me enough she didn't question it either. Which she shouldn't do, because she knows me. I'm not changing it now. Sorry Kameko. You're a dung beetle now. Because I'm stupid.
Chapter 6
Notes:
i told u i wouldn't leave u hanging. bit of a filler chapter, but important set up is done so bare with.
TW for use of lesbophobic slurs.
Song:
>Popular : Wicked (The Musical)
> What is Love? : TWICE
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Sorry I’m late!”
Toko grumbled in discontent as Komaru ran up to her yelling apologies. Toko had spent the last fifteen minutes waiting just outside the subway station where Komaru had told her she’d meet her ten minutes ago. While she may not be impressed with having to wait for her to finally show up, Toko also wouldn’t say that she was particularly surprised.
“It’s r-rude as hell to keep people waiting, you know?!”
Komaru was slightly winded after running up the stairs out of the subway. She bowed in apology as she caught her breath, “I know, I know, sorry! It totally wasn’t my fault!”
“You sound just like your brother.” Toko grumbled
Komaru’s eyes brightened, “Ah, really?”
“T-That’s not a good thing!”
Komaru laughed in a carefree way and it warmed Toko enough that she defrosted. Whatever, at least she was here now. It was a good thing she got there when she did, because Toko was beginning to spiral. Memories she hated had begun resurfacing, sparking her imagination to scramble and creating a reality where she spent the entire day standing here waiting for a Komaru that would never arrive. What her imagination didn’t account for was that Komaru was a harmless ditz.
Maybe it was just her nerves being a little bit sensitive, as this was the first time they’d gone out together like this as friends. Real friends, without any sort of excuse or pretence. Komaru had wanted to go shopping, and despite all the other friends she had, ones much more girly, much more chipper and cooler and probably richer than her, Komaru asked her . She remembered getting the text, and how she’d blushed as the butterflies in her stomach flew into a frenzy.
Toko had fretted all night about what to wear. Anyone else looking at the very minimum amount of clothes she owned would think something like choosing what to wear would be easy. But Toko wanted it to be perfect, as perfect as a scene she’d write in her books. The dungarees she’d chosen to wear over a miss-sized turtleneck were dark and old. The button had fallen off one of the straps and she had to roll up the hems of the trousers, so they didn’t drag on the floor. She felt all the more unsure about it now that Komaru had shown up, wearing a trendy, earth toned outfit that was fashionable for the autumn time. Toko wished her legs would look that good in a skirt that short. She found herself staring at them and had to force herself to look away. Suddenly, she hated how high and mighty she’d always felt about not wearing makeup, because she kind of wished she had something to make herself look nicer than she did, especially since she was too excited to even sleep the whole night through. Looking now at Komaru’s plump, even-toned skin, she felt inferior. She reasoned it was easier for her, when Komaru was just naturally pretty. Unlike Toko, she didn’t have to try.
“So, do you have anywhere you want to go?” Komaru asked her.
“L-Like hell I do,” Toko looked around at the towering grey block buildings that surrounded them, “I’ve never been to this part of Tokyo before. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“Then let me be your guide!” Komaru nearly sparkled with excitement at the prospect. Toko felt thrown off by her continued enthusiasm.
“I d-don’t have any other choice.” Toko replied awkwardly, adjusting the old, brown leather messenger bag she had on her shoulder.
“You could try and sound happier about it.”
Toko blushed, and in her anxious worry of ruining all of this, she scrambled, “I-I am happy!” she shouted with glee, punching the air and shouting, “I-I’m ecstatic! I can’t wait!”
There was a beat of silence. Komaru stared at her tensely. Toko began to sweat more than she usually did. “Too much?” she asked with a wince,
“Just a bit.” Komaru agreed, “Honestly, it was kind of uncanny.”
Toko felt her entire being droop into disappointed sadness, “This is hopeless.”
“You’ll be fine.” Toko didn’t miss the condescension in her tone but had no legs to stand on in the argument so, with a huff, she let it be.
Sticking by her word, Komaru led Toko through the busy pavement streets and across wide street crossings streaming with people. She dodged to try and keep up amongst the crowd, but it was difficult. She wasn’t used to walking around like this despite having lived in the city her whole life. She tripped, caught her foot, and once she’d righted herself, she realised Komaru had nearly walked off without her. She caught up, and on impulse she grabbed Komaru’s sleeve to keep her close in her path. She hadn’t realised she’d done it, not even to be embarrassed by the action, before Komaru tugged her arm free to grab Toko’s hand instead.
Toko was so shocked she couldn’t do or say anything to counter it. She might’ve choked, a sound like some type of demented frog being strangled squeaked from her at the sudden touch, but that was it. Komaru’s hand in hers. Her hand in Komaru’s. Taken without a second thought.
She should probably let go, some small, scared voice in her head panicked. Toko decided she’d wait for Komaru to let go first.
They finally reached the strip of shops Komaru had been looking for. Sleek front buildings with large bright signs stood to attention along the street. Toko recognised a few of the brands, but not many. Contrary to what she’d expected, when they looked through the shops, Komaru didn’t buy much at all. It was both relieving and confusing. After Komaru announced with wonder for the fifth time in a row how much she loved a certain shirt or dress before putting it back and moving on, Toko was curious enough to ask.
“You know, when you said shopping, I expected you to be buying a lot more stuff than this.”
Or that’s how it always was in the movies. Girls going shopping and walking out with tonnes of bags with expensive brand names filled with clothes and shoes and makeup. So far, Komaru had picked up at least 10 things per store that she claimed to love before she’d put them back without a second thought.
“Uh, hello ? I’m not made of money! I wish I was though. I’d love to go on a massive shopping trip and spend money without thinking about it at all.”
Toko flicked curiously through a sale rack that had enough dark colours to pull her interest, “Get Naegi to win the lottery for you.”
Komaru froze, her face going slack, like Toko’s off-hand comment was life changing, “...Why did I never think of that?” she whispered.
Toko snorted, “I-If his luck is worth anything, it should be easy for him.”
As she followed behind Komaru, Toko wondered if she was doing this right. Was Komaru expecting her to pick out things she liked as well? Toko didn’t even know what that was. She’d never had to think about it before. Whatever clothes she had been given hadn’t been a choice. The only choice in the matter was the ones she wore and kept. She wondered if she was making this boring, if Komaru was secretly mad at her, or thought she was uninterested. Well, it wouldn’t be wrong if she did think that, but it didn’t mean she wanted her to think that. Friends did things like this, right? So Toko would do things like this too.
They passed into the back of the store. Here, spinning stands and white plastic tables were lined with fake jewellery and accessories, “So…” Toko continued, “If you aren’t buying anything, what’s even the point of all of this?”
Komaru took a moment to consider the question. “I dunno. It’s just fun!”
Toko gave her a dry look. Komaru’s simple mindedness was still shocking. She wondered if that would ever change. Komaru stopped, putting down a pair of earrings she’d been holding up to her ear to look at in the mirror, “You…Are having fun, right?”
Toko dismayed at the feeling of her cheeks getting warm, “W-Whatever,” she spun around, braids swinging wildly against her back as she stormed her way out of the store, “Where are we going next?”
Her embarrassment only got worse when she had to awkwardly wait for Komaru to catch up after she left the store because she had no idea where she was going. Komaru didn’t comment, just hummed thoughtfully then pointed down the street. Toko was just happy to follow behind her again to give her some time to re-calibrate.
They walked past a shop window and something big and white caught Toko’s eye. It was a wedding dress, one that seemed ripped right out of Toko’s fantasies. The exact type of over the top, white and lace and sparkle and silk combination she’d always dreamed about. When she’d realised Toko had stopped, Komaru joined her and gasped in awe at her side. Toko hardly heard her. Wedding bells were ringing too loud in her ears to hear much of anything at all. She wondered if Komaru would accept being a bridesmaid. It was a nice thought. Though before the thought of Komaru being at her wedding was jarring, now it was more natural than ever. It was nice to think she’d actually have someone to support her through it, someone who wasn’t her darling husband.
Her husband. Mrs Toko Togami. It even sounded nice, the alliteration rolling off the tongue with ease, like it was natural, like they were meant to be-
“Fukawa?!”
That burst her bubble. When she whipped her head to the sound and saw its source, her stomach dropped.
“A-Asahina?!”
Asahina, in all her sportswear glory, stood by the other display window, walking up to the door with Oogami towering behind her dressed in a way that was quite contradictorily to everything else about her, in a flowery skirt and a blouse. The entire scene was shocking, and Toko couldn’t quite catch up. Luckily, it seemed she didn’t need to.
“Oh my god, Komaru! ” Asahina gasped before running forwards and crushing Komaru in a very boisterous hug. Komaru responded to the hug a little delayed and was much less enthusiastic in her shock.
“What are you guys doing here?” Komaru asked when she was released from Asahina’s clutches. Toko hovered behind Komaru, not hiding , but just trying not to get involved with the conversation as much as she possibly could.
“We’re looking for dresses for the winter ball!”
Toko stiffened.
Shit.
Komaru turned around and gave her a confused, searching look that verged towards miffed the longer she thought.
“Winter ball?” Komaru asked, her tone building to something accusatory.
“I-It’s nothing.” Toko mumbled into her hair, “Just some d-dumb party.”
“‘Dumb party’?! ” Komaru shook her head in exasperation, “I can’t believe you!” she scolded, hands on her hips, the whole nine yards, “We’re out shopping right now and you have this big event coming up and you didn’t think to tell me!
“I-I didn’t know I had to! D-Don’t get mad at me, N-N-Naegi didn’t tell you either!”
“Makoto is a boy , of course he’s not going to tell me about that kind of stuff!”
“W-What difference does it make?!”
“We could’ve gone dress shopping together too!”
“W-Who the hell would want to do something like that?”
“Friends, Fukawa !”
Toko spluttered to come up with an explanation, because for some reason, Komaru seemed genuinely peeved about this. But she hadn’t been lying. She genuinely didn’t know. Komaru wouldn’t be able to go without an invite, and it's not like she’d want to go with her, so what was the point in mentioning it? If anything, she was glad she hadn’t, because there was nothing worse she could think of than having to watch Komaru try and maintain a straight face and a polite attitude while watching her try on dresses that would look better stretched around a bull than they did on her. She couldn’t take it, nor the anxiety sweats that would make her ruin any of the dresses she tried on in the first place.
“Why don’t you come with us?”
“Sakura?” Asahina looked up at the girl with an offended and confused look. Toko couldn’t blame her, the feeling was mutual.
“I’m sure there’s room for two more.” Oogami said smoothly in her rough baritone, “The more opinions, the better.”
If Toko wasn’t crazy, she’d think Oogami had been slightly shy. But Toko was crazy, so she threw the thought away.
Asahina shifted on her feet, “Well…” she looked at the two of them, weighed some sort of decision in her mind, then finally sighed, “If you want to, you can.”
“Absolutely not.” Toko ground out immediately.
“Absolutely yes !!” Komaru exclaimed happily, grabbed Toko’s arm without hesitation. “Come on, Fukawa! Omigosh, this will be so fun!”
Fukawa squawked something ugly as Komaru tugged her in through the door Oogami was holding open for them, “O- Omaru !”
She managed to wiggle free from her grip, but only after she’d been dragged into the store and the door had shut behind her. Komaru was already ahead, following alongside Oogami and talking excitedly at her.
Traitor. Traitor!
This is what Toko got for trusting anyone, especially some airheaded, knock-off barbie doll like Komaru! Betrayal, every single time, without fail! Worse was that conniving bitch, Asahina. Why the hell did she have to mention that stupid ball? She saw that twinkle in Komaru’s eye. This would only mean hell for her. She probably did it on purpose because she knew Toko would hate it.
Movement at her side brought Toko out of her furious thoughts. Asahina hadn’t followed into the shop with the others and was instead waiting with her. She was looking her up and down, a look on her face that Toko didn’t really understand, but figured was probably something judgemental. Was it her outfit? Did her hair look stupid? Despite the casual way she dressed, Asahina still somehow looked fashionable. Not a hair out of place from her typical ponytail.
“W-What? St-t-top staring at me, y-you f-f- freak ! T-Think I’m t-too ugly to e-even be st-tanding in a s-shop like this o-or something? I-It’s not like I a-asked to be in here o-or anything!”
Toko had hardly finished before Asahina was speaking over her. “I don’t want anything to ruin this for Sakura.”
She was serious. More serious than Toko had ever seen her be. There wasn’t a hint of the endless excitable energy that usually shone through every expression and made her irritatingly loud. Instead, she was quiet, and Toko thought it was more than just about stopping Oogami from hearing her.
“H-Huh?”
“She’s been super excited about this, okay? But she’s also really insecure about this type of stuff. Her body has changed a lot in the last few years-”
“Y-You mean she hasn’t a-always looked like a c-cow on steroids?”
An angry blush rose to Asahina’s cheeks, “That’s exactly what I mean!” she ground out, then sighed, “Just- please, Fukawa. For once, can you just keep your thoughts to yourself? If Sakura’s okay with having you here, then that’s fine. Just don’t make her regret that decision.”
Toko blinked. Begging. Asahina was begging. Begging her. Despite what she’d imagined when fantasising about this type of situation, having the upper hand over Asahina actually made her endlessly uncomfortable.
“W-Whatever.” she conceded, if only to make Asahina stop talking, “L-Like I g-give a crap what the O-Ogre looks like. S-she could wear a g-grotty b-bin bag to the b-b-ball for all I care.”
Asahina bit her tongue. She steeled herself, then ground out a firm, “Fine,” before walking ahead of her, “Let’s get this over with.”
“T-That’s m-my line.”
Just as she predicted, the entire experience was mind-numbingly boring. Made all the worse by the fact she felt she couldn’t say anything at all, lest Asahina use her perfect diving skills to jump down her throat and harass her for being ‘horrible’. Toko stood off to the side, hunched over and seething as the girls flicked through dresses on the rack and giggled and gasped at their options. Every part of her felt wrong in the space. The worker kept giving her a look, probably disgusted that a girl like her would have the audacity to even think about wearing one of her dresses, let alone walk through the door and stink up the place with her unwanted presence. She felt like she was on the verge of a telling off with every breath she took. With how excitable the other girls were, her discomfort stood out like a sore thumb. Even Oogami looked more relaxed in this place than she did. At least Toko would be able to fit into these dresses, even if she was convinced they’d probably turn to ash the moment she got her hands on them.
She just didn’t understand how they did it. Was there some class that all other girls had gone to that she’d conveniently missed? How did they breeze through these situations so naturally? What did they have that she didn’t that made them so confident to hold up a dress and think about wearing it and not once doubt that they were allowed to do that? They’d probably laugh at her for even having such a thought. Probably wouldn’t be able to even understand what Toko could even mean by that.
Not that Toko cared anyway. Her tastes were so much more refined and classier than anything this dumb dress shop could hold. Toko wouldn’t want any of these ugly, tacky dresses even if she was allowed them.
The most annoying thing of all to sit through, however, was Komaru and her empty praise. They’d moved to the changing rooms, three of them standing and waiting for Oogami, then Asahina to try on a dress and show them. Every dress Oogami and Asahina came out in she absolutely loved, right up until they mentioned something they didn’t like, then suddenly Komaru was agreeing with that too. Komaru loved it, and then Asahina would say it made her shoulders look big, and Komaru would disagree, then tell her to try on a different one. It was driving her mad. The curtain shucked closed, and the two of them were hidden away as Asahina helped Oogami out of another dress that looked exactly the same as all the others she’d tried before. In their seclusion, Toko took her chance to call Komaru out on the behaviour.
Komaru pursed her lips, “Sometimes,” she started quietly, “It’s better to keep certain things to yourself to protect other’s feelings.”
“T-That’s still being fake. You aren’t saying what you really think.”
“It’s not about what I think and feel. It’s about her .” Komaru emphasised.
Toko didn’t really understand it. Maybe she never would. Just another one of those things that she never got taught about being a girl. Thankfully, it seemed this torture was about to end. Neither girl had decided on a dress, and Toko figured that would be the end of it.
That was, until Oogami was staring her down with a menacingly determined look.
“Your turn.”
Toko looked behind her, then pointed to herself. Oogami didn’t correct her.
“W-What? M-Me?!” Oogami continued to stare her down resolutely. Toko shook her head violently, swiping her arms across her body, “N- No way !”
Komaru crowded her, that same sparkle in her eye from before that Toko knew would come to bite her in the arse, “Come on, Fukawa! You totally should!”
“N-Not a chance! I-I’m n-not gonna g-give t-these two the s-s-satisfaction of m-making fun of me just so they can feel b-better about how they l-looked!”
“That’s not it!” Asahina barked.
“Well t-too bad.” Toko sniffed, her nose high in the air, “U-Unlike y-you two m-morons, I’m a-actually prepared. I h-have a dress already.”
“You could still try some on. It’ll be fun!” Komaru insisted.
Toko was getting a little worried. What was her deal? Why did this matter so much to her? Did Komaru want to make fun of her too? The thought made sick anxiety churn in her stomach.
Something in her expression must’ve given her away, because Komaru softened. Toko looked away and tugged on her braids. She hated when Komaru made that face. It made staying true to her morals difficult. “I’d like to see. I probably won't get a chance to see you the day of the ball, so I’m curious what you’re gonna look like. It’s so different to how you normally dress.”
Even worse for her will power than her expression was her words. She’d really made Toko a fool. All her anxieties still prevailed. But…
It’s not that Toko wanted an excuse to try on the dresses or anything. It was pointless anyway because she really did already have something, and she definitely wouldn’t be able to afford anything in this shop, even to rent. But…
There had been one that had caught her eye. One when she’d gotten bored enough and the shop assistant had been busy enough that she dared to take a closer look at on the rack.
Toko swallowed and hunched over further, “This is…O-One of those ‘ friendship’ things, right?”
“Absolutely!” Komaru said confidently.
“...F-Fine. O-One dress.”
“Ah, but if you seriously don’t want to, you don’t have to, you know?” Komaru reassured, “It’s only fun if we’re both having fun.”
“N-No.” Toko snatched the dress off the rack, head high in contrast to the way she quivered inside, “I-It’s fine. I h-have to get used to things like this.”
Oogami huffed a pleased sound, and Toko almost took back her decision just to spite her. But how happy Komaru was took away any power that thought might’ve held. She shuffled over to the changing room. Before she shut the curtain, she caught Asahina’s expression, and she couldn’t explain it. Probably hateful of her taking up so much time, or holding back disgust at the thought of her in a dress. But it hadn’t been like that at all. Really, she’d looked kind of shocked.
Alone now in the changing room, she felt even more stupid. She shucked off her clothes with more violence than was necessary, wanting this nonsense over and done with as quickly as possible. She was just struggling to zip up the dress on her own when the sound of the curtains opening made her yelp and stumble back.
“It’s just me, calm down.” Komaru announced as she walked through.
“A bit of a warning would’ve been nice! I-I could’ve been naked!” Toko snapped, but it didn’t have any sort of impact, not from what she could see, because Komaru was still standing there staring at her. It was making her sweat, which made her feel worse because it meant her earlier worries about ruining the dress became more and more valid.
“S-Sorry, I’m just…Wow.”
Toko crossed her arms over her body, “S-Shocked that someone could look so d-deplorable in such a n-nice dress. I-I b-bet you didn’t think it was p-possible for someone to make a d-dress look worse just by w-w-wearing it.”
“No,” Komaru said, finally broken from her stupor, she stepped forwards, “The opposite actually. It’s a shame you have a dress already. You look so pretty.”
“I-It’s just the dress; there’s nothing different about me.”
“Hmm, that’s true…”
Something dropped in her stomach at that. Not entirely unpleasant. She felt herself flushing hotter. She put the thought and the feeling to the side, focusing instead on the look Komaru had on her face. It was her thinking face. Nothing good came from the rare times Komaru managed to form a thought. Komaru disappeared through the curtain without a word, a moment passed, and she was back.
“W-What are you planning?” Toko asked suspiciously, backing away from her a little bit.
Komaru held up a tube of lip-gloss, and Toko’s fears were solidified. It was mostly used with the label slightly scratched off. “I keep it in my bag, just in case.”
“No.” Toko tried to say firmly, but her voice shook. Komaru reached forwards and grabbed Toko’s face,
“H-HEY-”
“Stay still and puff out your lips.”
“D-DON’T TOUCH ME! P- PERVERT -”
“You’re causing a scene! It’ll only take a sec.”
“ I-I’M CAUSING -”
Toko choked on the rest of her protests when Komaru shoved the stick onto her mouth. She wiggled, but Komaru insisted, and smeared the sponge covered in sticky gloss across her mouth. Or, tried to. With all her fighting, it ended up everywhere. It was a wholly disgusting experience. She spluttered, hating the way it made her lips stick together and feel slimy and weird.
Komaru finally let her go and stepped back, “There!” she said, entirely too proud of herself. Then, she stuttered to a stop, a realisation passing over her face that dampened her pride, “O-Oh. It’s…” she covered up a laugh, “It’s a bit messy.”
Toko made a great noise of disgust. She went to wipe the offending mess off of her face but Komaru grabbed her and stopped her.
“Wait, you'll ruin it!”
Toko went to bite back how it was ruined to begin with, but any words she could’ve said dissipated quickly under Komaru’s thumb. The thumb she was using to wipe clean the lipstick. It swiped along her lip line, from the swell to the corner, firm and steady. Two words that were the exact antithesis of how Toko felt in the moment. Komaru wiped her thumb clean, then repeated the action.
Toko could think of very few moments in her life when her mind had been completely clear, empty of all thoughts except for what she was experiencing at that moment. This may have even been the first. She felt suspended, like when Komaru touched her, time had stopped. One more time, Komaru swiped the corner of her mouth, then smiled in a satisfied way. She thought that that was the end of it. The thought made her feel oddly sad, disappointed perhaps? But that didn’t make sense. Not that it mattered, she didn’t have time to untangle the strange feeling, because next Komaru was grabbing one of her braids and pulling it over her shoulder. She pulled the bobble out, then did the same with the other, before untangling them and setting her hair free. Distantly, Toko was glad she’d managed to wash her hair recently. Now, the pain had felt worth it.
This would be a good time to kiss her, right? She’d swear she could taste Komaru’s fingers on her lips, how much further was a kiss, really? She was standing right there, with her hands in her hair. Toko felt wild with the idea. Latching onto the thought like a leech, teeth and all. She felt drawn forwards, everything inside her building into a crescendo. Every time Komaru touched her, she felt an indescribable need to chase it. A chanting in her veins that she didn’t understand and felt dangerous. It sounded like more . More what? Toko couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it didn’t feel friendly. It felt like… More.
But this was a friend thing, wasn’t it? Was this feeling normal? There was so much Toko didn’t know. Nothing she did felt right. It wasn’t like this was out of the ordinary for them. Komaru always hung around so close to her and was always so touchy. Toko couldn’t entirely say she didn’t like it. She’d never had someone so comfortable around her before. She wished she could replicate even a smidge of Komaru’s confidence. If she could, she wouldn’t pass up this opportunity. The bet would be over now, and maybe then she’d have a real reason to be trying on this dress.
“Your hair is so soft…And it’s even longer out of the braids.”
She felt Komaru’s fingers running through her hair through her whole body, from the follicle of each strand to the tips of her toes, warm and buzzing. She wanted to lean into it, and wanted to ask Komaru to scratch her head, like some sort of pathetic puppy (with how obedient she’d been to Komaru’s wishes as of late, maybe the comparison was apt. Toko was starting to think that all Komaru needed to do was tug on her collar and she’d follow without a thought).
That thought alone was embarrassing enough to make her snatch herself away from her touch. Komaru didn’t insist. She never did, not when it mattered. She turned to the mirror, looking at herself with a sneer. She’d known this was pointless; she looked nothing like she’d imagined she would. So long avoiding mirrors had made her forget what her reality really was. Her body was lacklustre and her looks even worse. It was a crime against the dress that she’d even tried it on. Instead of natural like the other girls had, it looked like she was playing dress up with her mother’s clothes. She bit her sore lips, and pulled off her glasses, hoping it would help but knowing it wouldn’t.
“You won’t be able to see yourself properly like that!” Komaru exclaimed,
“I-I’ll look b-better without them…”
Komaru hummed thoughtfully. Toko watched her slink up closer to her in the mirror, “I don’t think so. They don’t really change your face much.” She took the glasses out of her hands, and gently slipped them back onto her face. Toko adjusted them, eyes eskant. Looking dead into Komaru’s eyes when she was this close made her feel strange, like she was holding an electrical current right above her skin, her hair rising to meet the dangerous energy. “Actually,” Komaru continued, not at all affected the way Toko was. It kind of made it worse, “I think they’re cute,” she tilted her head and looked at her closely. Toko felt stripped bare. If she wasn’t so frozen with nerves, she would’ve covered herself. With a tilt of her head, Komaru smiled and said softly, “They suit you.”
Toko swallowed, her hands coming up to tuck under her armpits, a minimal protection, it hardly helped, “I-Is this just you c-considering my feelings?”
“No. I know you wouldn’t appreciate that.”
She couldn’t take much more. She turned away. Breathing was suddenly easier.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair had a wave in it from her plaits, and the colour of the lip-gloss brightened her face, and the shine made her lips look healthier than they were. The dress was dark and long with a square neckline and sheer cap sleeves that sparkled. She wouldn’t say she didn’t recognise herself, because that would be wrong. It was still her, warts and all. But now the image of someone like her in such a pretty dress was more congruent. She managed to stand a little straighter, look herself in the eye a bit steadier. Now, it didn’t feel like playing dress up. She actually looked somewhat, maybe just a little, decent.
“See?” Komaru said with a proud smile, standing behind her in the mirror and staring at her happily, “Pretty.”
Dark grey sea water sloshed loudly around her legs. Pushing and pulling against her, she had to adjust her stance in the sand, dig her feet a little deeper. Around her, the water rose.
Toko snatched her stare away from the mirror, and scrambled for the zip of the dress,
“G-Get this stupid thing off of me.”
“Aw, aren’t you going to show the others?”
“N-No.” Toko mumbled, shoulders rising, “I-I d-don’t want them to see.”
“Oh…”
It was a simple sound. Toko tried to read into it. It hadn’t been disappointed per say, but still a bit shocked. Komaru’s fingers were cold when they skimmed her back as she undid the zip, “Hmm, I’m starting to understand my brother a little more.”
“W-What are you talking about?” Toko grumbled, holding up the dress over her chest so it wouldn’t fall down.
Komaru looked at her in the mirror from over Toko’s shoulder, and chirped, “I feel really lucky right now!”
Toko blushed so hard it reached her neck, “S-Shut up and g-get out !”
Komaru obeyed, giggling the whole way out. Toko hated how long the blush stayed. She got dressed again and looked in the mirror. She pinged the bobbles around her wrists. She ran a hand through her hair.
Pretty, Komaru had said.
It would be more effort that it was worth to do her hair again.
Stupid 'Omaru.
-
Unfortunately, unlike what she’d hoped, they did not part ways with Asahina and Oogami after the dress shop. Instead, their duo had doubled. As they walked through the strip of shops, Komaru chatted happily with Oogami, the two of them blissfully unaware of the tense silence Toko and Asahina walked together in behind them. The moment either of them turned to include them in a conversation, Asahina brightened, putting on a show for their sake. Toko didn’t pretend at all.
“...Your hair’s shiny.” Asahina said at one point after a long stretch of silence between them. A tentative attempt at conversation.
“Thanks.” Toko replied flatly, “It’s grease.”
Asahina’s mouth formed around a myriad responses she could’ve given to that but settled on pursing her mouth into a thin line, nodding stiffly and facing forwards again. The conversation died, and Toko had killed it. Despite herself, she giggled.
After that, Asahina made no further attempts at conversation. It seemed they’d come to a silent agreement. They would play civil, if only to make sure they didn’t burden their friends.
As much as Toko preferred it, it still felt dishonest in a way. But Toko remembered what Komaru had said earlier, about holding back for the sake of other’s feelings. She thought this was probably similar.
Now, they were in a music store at Komaru’s request. Toko trailed behind her as they separated from Asahina and Oogami for a moment. It was a bit relieving. She liked it when it was just them. It made things easier. Komaru asked her what her favourite musicians were, and revealing the truth was easier than it may have been before, even if it was still a little embarrassing. Though, when Komaru revealed (as expected) that she had no idea who the indie folk artists she named were, she felt a confusing mixture of deflated and pompous superiority.
“Oh, I love this group!” Komaru gasped. They’d ended up in a pop section. Asahina and Oogami rounded the corner of the same aisle and acknowledged them, before looking at something on the shelves a bit further down.
She’d been so focused on those two, she was slightly taken aback when Komaru shoved an earphone in front of her face.
“Put it in! I wanna show you.”
“You really wanna share earwax with me?”
“You’re so gross, seriously. I worry about you.” Komaru bemoaned, but didn’t take the earphone away. Toko took it and shuffled closer to Komaru. The chord between the two buds was short. They had to stand shoulder to shoulder. Toko was distracted by the smell of Komaru’s perfume. It was nice. Fresh and floral. She didn’t mind standing this close if it meant she could smell it longer. She probably smelt gross in comparison. Did it bother Komaru? Toko thought, no matter how improbable it was, it’d be really nice if Komaru liked how she smelled too.
I wanna know, know, know, know
What is love?
Bright pop music suddenly blasting her ears snapped her out of those thoughts. She put a hand to the ear that held the bud and winced. Komaru sheepishly apologised and turned the music down.
“W-What the hell is this?” Toko listened closely to the song. At first, she’d thought her hearing hadn’t adjusted properly, because she couldn’t understand the lyrics. Now, she realised there was a reason for that. “A-Are they singing in K-Korean?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of KPop before Fukawa? Do you live under a rock?”
“I would’ve thought you’d been a secret boy-group stan this whole time.” Asahina added, and Toko jumped so suddenly the earbud fell out of her ear. Asahina looked a little too pleased with herself. Toko burned with irritation. “It seems right up your street.”
“S-Shut up chlorine breath!”
“TWICE is my favourite group,” Komaru continued, either ignoring or uncaring for the spat Toko was trying to have with Asahina. “This song is my favourite. The lyrics are so relatable and I was so obsessed with the concept! Jeongyeon played the love interest roles so well in the video. I’m always such a sucker for the girl-crush type.”
“I thought you were d-die hard for M-Maizono’s group.” Toko asked, cleaning her glasses before putting them back on her face.
“Of course! But she’s a JPop idol!”
Toko grinned grossly, “S-So you’re cheating on her? You t-two timing hag.”
“I-It’s not cheating! It’s completely different!” she folded her arms with her nose snootily in the air as she bragged, “I have a heart big enough for two.
Toko’s smirk curled even nastier, “N-Not satisfied with just o-one girl, huh? G-Got a b-bigger appetite than that? I-Is this a younger sibling complex? Too used to being spoiled and n-now you’ve gotten greedy.”
“You would think that.” Asahina snarked.
Toko stiffened at the snide remark, irritation tickling further at the smug look on Asahina’s face, “I-I’m just…” Toko thought for the correct word, “L-Loyal.”
“That’s one word for it.” Asahina sighed with a tired smile. Oogami chuckled. Toko twisted her mouth and stuck her nose in the air. She didn’t expect them to understand her love. It wasn’t something they could ever comprehend.
“Anyway.” Komaru enunciated before setting off into an excited stream of information all about this girl group. Apparently, they were influential. Toko couldn’t see how influential they could be when she’d never heard of them until now. But she supposed their tastes differed enough that it made sense.
“Ah, sorry I got totally carried away then.” Komaru laughed, scratching her cheek awkwardly; a move that Toko pretended she didn’t find charming.
“Yeah.” Toko agreed, “B-But it’s fine.” Toko grabbed a section of her hair that had fallen over her shoulder and played with it, “I suppose your air-headed rants aren’t t-too terrible to listen to.”
Komaru snorted, “Careful, that was almost a compliment.”
“W-Well…I-It’s to be expected…” Toko mumbled, glancing at Komaru intermittently, “W-We’re friends, aren’t we?”
In the small amount of time it took for Komaru to respond, Toko’s chest clamoured with fear.
“...Yeah. We are.”
But it was hard to stay scared when Komaru smiled at her like that.
-
“So…”
Toko didn’t like that tone.
They were sitting in a cafe; one they’d happened across while walking down the high street. It was apparently incredibly trendy right now. Toko had been more than a little annoyed at having to wait outside in a line for their turn to get it, but Komaru insisted it was good, and Asahina was excited to try it, Oogami showed no opinion either way, so that had been counted as a yes. She’d been outvoted. Right now, in this trendy café, Toko felt more in enemy territory than she ever had in these places. Komaru had gone to the toilet, essentially abandoning her to fight for herself as she sat alone across from Asahina and Oogami.
It had been awkwardly silent, right up until Asahina had broken it with that tone. It was the type of tone someone used when they were about to ask you a really awkward question you really didn’t want to answer.
Proving her point, Asahina finished tentatively, “You and Komaru, huh?”
“W-What about it?” Toko grumbled, not looking her in the eye.
“Nothing. It’s just…Surprising.”
Toko didn’t know what to say to that, because she really didn’t want to agree with Asahina, even if she was right.
“Then again,” she continued after a short, contemplative pause, “Maybe not.”
“S-Spit it out already.”
“You’re different with her. Happier,” Asahina shrugged and smiled, “It’s kinda nice.”
Toko glared at Asahina across the table, her shoulders rising defensively as she gripped the edge of the table, “Y-You’re making fun of me. I k-know you are. I d-don’t care what s-someone like you thinks about me, so you can s-save your energy.”
“I mean it!”
“I agree.” Oogami added, like anyone asked. “You’re a lot more tolerable when you are around her.”
“ T-Tolerable?” Toko drawled in a mocking tone. She scoffed, “I-I’m not t-trying to be t-t- tolerable . I-If you think I’m t-trying to appease p-people like you, your p-protein shakes have turned what l-little existed of your b-brain to liquid.”
“But you’re definitely trying for Komaru.” Asahina muttered slyly.
Toko slammed her fists on the table, “T-That’s n-n-n-none of your business, fish farts!”
There was a poignant silence in the restaurant that made her voice echo louder than she’d meant it to. It baked hot heat that rose red up from her chest to her cheeks.
“... Fish farts ?” Oogami repeated flatly, eyebrows raised.
Toko shrank in her seat, “N-Not my best work...”
She’d thought it was enough to drop the subject. But Asahina was still staring at her like she was a puzzle she was trying to solve. From how hard she was staring, she must’ve been a difficult one. To her then, Toko thought, she must look like a 50-piece jigsaw for years 5 and up. The thought was amusing enough that it relaxed her, despite how amped up Asahina was progressively getting across from her. Asahina’s lips pursed tighter, her eyes narrowed sharper, then finally, she asked,
“What did she do to make you forget about Togami?”
Toko reacted like she’d been smacked, “F-F- Forget ?! W-What makes you think that I’ve f-f-f-forgotten him?”
The reply obviously wasn’t what either Asahina or Oogami were expecting. They shared a quick glance.
“Wait, you and Komaru aren’t…” her words trailed off. Even Oogami’s impassable expression had shifted to something shocked. They looked at each other in disbelief. Toko was starting to sweat, frustration building past what she could handle,
“A-Aren’t w-what ?”
Asahina sucked on the straw of her drink, tapping out of the conversation. Oogami folded her arms and closed her eyes, “We thought you were dating.”
Toko was glad she’d been too nervous to eat, because if she was, she would’ve choked, “W- WHAT?! ”
“It seems we were mistaken. Apologies.”
“A-APOLOGY ABSOLUTELY N-NOT A-ACCEPTED!” Toko felt hot all over and overcome with a wave of nauseous anxiety. She was damp, the layer of fine sweat she’d been ignoring until now suddenly front and centre of her mind. She wanted to curl up in a ball and rot until the world forgot about her. She wanted to slide under the table and never be seen again. Most of all, she needed to stamp this horrific idea out, until not a trace of it remained, “O-One, I am a-absolutely not a lesbian.” She ground out between clenched teeth, counting the numbers on her fingers and throwing them in both their stupid, ugly faces, “ Two ! M-my heart b-belongs to Master, a-and Master only! H-How could you- or a-anyone ever t-think that- UGH! ” Toko grabbed her head, shame and anger and embarrassment coalescing into something horrible in her head that made her shake, “I could n-n- never forget my M-Master or his wishes! You have n-no idea what you’re talking about! A-are you trying to t-take him away from me?! I-I won’t let you win!
Asahina rolled her eyes, “Fukawa, you couldn’t pay me to talk to Togami, forget… Eugh .” she shivered, her lip curling in disgust at the thought. Then she shook the feeling off, “Plus, very clearly not an option for me.”
“A-At least you’re aw-ware enough to recognise that. M-Master is m-m-much too g-good for you a-anyway.”
“I think the bigger problem is that I’m a lesbian.”
Toko damn near fell off her chair she scrambled away in shock so suddenly, “Y-Y-Y-YOU’RE A DYKE ?”
“Jesus Christ, Fukawa!” Asahina gasped with a solid smack to the table. Oogami’s eyes shot open in pure shock, jaw dropped.
“W-W-WHAT THE HELL? S-S-SINCE WHEN?”
“UH, FOREVER? THAT’S KIND OF THE POINT!”
A thought registered, and Toko felt herself break out into a cold sweat. She pointed a shaky finger between the two girls across from her, “W-Wait, d-does that mean… Y-You two- ”
“No.” Asahina said, a little too quickly. Hiding a little behind the straw of her drink
“We’re just friends.” Oogami confirmed easily, staring Toko down through one peering eye.
Toko snorted grossly, “ W-Wow.” she gargled through a curling grin, “ D-Despite how much you s-s-slut yourself out, y-you still c-can’t even g-get a girlfriend?” Asahina’s glare was encouraging, more so was the angry red that was developing in her face. “I b-bet boys everywhere are d-d-devastated that they’ll never get a chance at f-fondling your tits. T-T-Though, with the w-way you’re going, I bet you’d get d-desperate enough to l-let them anyway-”
“ What is wrong with you?!” Asahina shrieked. Oogami’s chair scraped against the floor as she shot to her feet.
“ How dare you !”
“No! I’m sick of this!” Asahina stuck out an arm in front of Oogami, holding her in place, but doing nothing to ease the violent aura and hateful glare she was layering her with. Asahina slammed her hands on the table and leaned over it and into Toko’s face, “What the hell is your issue with me?! Why are you always so-so horrible? All the time ! I haven’t done anything to you! Even with how nasty you are to me, I never try to be mean to you, Fukawa! Why can’t you give me the same respect?!”
Toko sucked her teeth and turned away, “L-Like I need a reason.” Asahina bristled like a cat that had been sprayed with water. “S-Sorry I’m the f-first person in your life you couldn’t t-trick into thinking your ‘ n - nice girl ’ act is r-real.” She folded her arms and sunk deeper into her chair, hunched further over the table, “I k-know what you girls are really like, I-I won't be fooled again!”
“‘I know what you girls are like’... What do you mean by that?” Oogami asked slowly. She’d sat back down again now, but the look on her face told her she hadn’t fully forgiven her, “You know us as well as we know you. Which is to say, not that much at all. So how can you claim to know what we’re really like?”
“I don’t n-need to know you, y-you’re all the same!” Toko rolled her eyes, clenching her fists on the table, “Y-You bitchy, p-p-pretty girls. Y-You’re way too c-comfortable acting all n-n-nice to my face. I k-know what you r-really think of me.”
“What the hell?!” For some reason, Asahina seemed genuinely offended. “I’m not two-faced, Fukawa. When have I ever faked how I feel about you?
“Out of everyone in class, I’d say we were the most honest to you about how we feel. Other than Togami.”
“What about Komaru?” Asahina snapped.
That grabbed Toko’s attention. She sat up straight again, suddenly strangely defensive, “W-What about her?”
“She’s a girl. She’s a nice girl. Is her behaviour an act?”
She gritted her teeth behind a tight scowl. Asahina must’ve thought she had her pinned with that. Toko hated to give her that satisfaction. But she had to. Not because she’d actually made a good point, but because as it stood, Toko had no comeback. Komaru was a nice girl. Whether or not her behaviour was an act…
Toko’s heart clenched. She didn’t want to think about this.
She must’ve been a damn pathetic sight, because Asahina let up on her attack with a tired sigh,
“Look…I’m not going to pretend to know what's gone on in your life. But you can’t paint everyone you meet with the same brush just because some people were mean to you in the past. All you're doing is pushing people away.”
“T-That’s the point, dumbass.” Toko ground out, before laughing breathlessly, “Y-You really think I need you to a-armchair psychoanalyse me?! Y-Y-You’re biting off way more than you can chew, you l-lousy carpetmucher .”
Asahina almost rose to it. Almost. Oogami growled something under her breath. She saw Asahina twitch as if to stand up again and do something that would get them kicked out before Komaru ever got back. Not exactly something a nice girl would do, Toko thought smugly, as much as Asahina liked to pretend otherwise.
“Fine. Fine,” she conceded, tense and bitter defeat seeping out of her, “I suppose I’ll just have to accept that we’re never gonna see eye to eye.” she sighed. It took all the fight out of her, and she sunk back into her seat. “It’s a shame though. I was starting to think that we actually could’ve been friends.”
That hadn’t been what Toko had been expecting her to say. Not in a million years. Her expression must’ve said enough, because she continued without prompting, “When you aren’t being weird over Togami, you’re actually kind of funny.”
“Who’s Togami?”
Toko felt like ice water had been sloshed down the back of her shirt. She turned around, and like a killer in a horror movie, Komaru was there, standing behind her. Toko felt cold with fear.
“N-N-No one. H-He’s n-no one.” Toko scrambled, begging Komaru with her eyes to drop the subject completely.
Though it seemed it wasn’t Komaru that she needed to plead to the better interests of. Asahina and Oogami stared at each other, completely blind sighted.
“ Who’s Togami?!” Asahina exclaimed, turning her bulging, disbelieving stare onto Toko instead.
No. No. No . This was bad. This was very, very bad.
“The name rings a bell…” Komaru said now she’d sat down, somehow completely unaware of the mood that was developing around the table. “He’s in your class, right?” She asked innocently.
“...Uh, yeah.” Asahina answered slowly, looking and sounding all the part of someone who’d just found out that civilization had collapsed around them when they weren’t looking and they were the only 6 remaining survivors unaffected by the apocalypse, “Yeah, he is.”
Komaru’s face brightened, “Oh! Yeah, now I remember! Makoto’s mentioned him a few times. Him and…I think, Kirigiri? He mentions her quite a bit.”
“Oh, he does, does he?” Asahina and Oogami shared a look. Even Toko found that information particularly interesting. She’d called it long ago. No way that puppy crush on the pop star was going to last.
“Is he a friend of yours too, Fukawa?” Komaru asked. She couldn’t have looked or sounded more innocent if she tried. It contrasted so hard with the question it was a bit jarring.
She scrambled for something to say, some sort of explanation. She’d never thought this would happen. She’d tried so hard to keep her Master and Komaru as separate as possible. Perhaps it was paranoid of her, but she didn’t want to risk any sort of chance of Komaru finding out the bet and ruining this. Plus, there would be no way she’d be able to hide her feelings for her Master if he was to be brought up. The already miniscule chance she’d have to kiss Komaru was dwindle impossibly smaller if she knew that Toko’s heart, body and soul was already spoken for.
“H-He- He’s just-”
“Friend? ” Asahina scoffed. Toko’s head whipped to her. She felt the colour drop from her face. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Hina. ” Oogami warned pointlessly. Like a speeding bullet train, Asahina was much too far gone to stop.
“She’s totally obsessed with him!”
Toko shot to her feet, her chair falling over behind her. “S-S-Shut up!” She yelled, grabbing her head frantically, “Y-You idiotic cretin! You s-s-slimy, w-worthless, little sea slug! Y-You w- whore !”
“It’s the truth! You are!”
Komaru touched her shoulder, “Fukawa-”
“UGH!”
The waiteress was on their way over. A final straw all around it seemed. Toko saved her the hassle. She snatched her bag off the floor and burst away from the scene in a fit of furious tears. Only one thought booming in her mind. Fuck everything and fuck everyone. But fuck her, most of all, for ever being stupid enough to think that she could have a normal day out with a friend.
-
Komaru had texted her. She answered when she was on the train heading back to Hope’s Peak. Here, there was enough distance and time separating them that she’d managed to cool down a bit, and now, in all honesty, she just felt embarrassed. She probably shouldn’t have abandoned her like that, and thinking back, that reaction had been completely over the top. She couldn’t help it in the moment. She’d apologise. Hopefully Komaru would accept it, and they could still be friends, and she hadn’t just ruined everything like she’d always known she would.
A reply from Komaru soothed that worry. At least a little bit.
> Get home safe, okay?
> Asahina explained things to me. She says she’s really sorry. She didn’t mean to upset you that bad.
Toko didn’t know what to say to that. Any angry things she wanted to say she didn’t want Komaru to hear.
> I’ll talk to you later, yeah?
< Okay.
> ( っ´ `)っ~*
She shoved her phone in her bag as the train pulled to her stop. She got off and followed a thankfully thin crowd of people out of the station and onto the main street. She was going to go home and just forget the whole thing ever happened.
Asahina and her muscle-head sidekick were idiots. They were idiots that didn’t know anything about her, or Komaru, or their relationship or her Master, and they certainly didn’t know the first thing about how Toko may think or feel or think.
Yet, days past, and the conversation continued to weigh on her. Darkening her thoughts like a heavy, irritating storm cloud. But despite what had upset her in the cafe, it wasn’t anything Asahina had revealed about her Master that occupied her thoughts. As much as she wanted to hate Asahina for the entire thing, it was a struggle. The conversation may have been hurtful, but it highlighted to her an issue that she probably would’ve taken longer to arrive at if left to her own devices.
The more she hung out with Komaru and the closer they got, the more the thought of the bet was starting to make her feel sick. Toko had completely and utterly messed this up, because she knew, against any excuses or defences her brain may throw at her, that for her heart it was already too late. Despite everything she’d thought going into this stupid scenario, she cared about Komaru.
She tried to convince herself that it was still not a big deal, that it was her plan to get closer to her so she could have an easier time getting Komaru to kiss her. However, that whole plan ignored one massive, glaring problem, that threw a spanner in the cogs of the whole machine.
How was she supposed to kiss Komaru now, when Komaru was her friend?
The thought accosted her one late night when she was trying to sleep. The prime time for her brain to present to her anxiety inducing problems such as these, and demand she iron them out before she even thought of getting a wink of sleep. It was a problem she’d been dancing around, but one she only now realised the entire, damning extent of.
If they kissed, and then Toko went running into her Master’s arms to collect her reward, Komaru would find out about the bet, and their friendship would be ruined. Her Master or Komaru. Maybe a month ago, the decision would’ve been easy. Now, it felt like life or death.
Did Komaru need to find out? What if Komaru just…Never knew?
It’s not like if they did kiss it would even mean anything anyway. Then maybe she could have her Master and keep her first ever friend as well. She’d be free from this life that had trapped her, and all of this would be worth it. She could write and write for the rest of her life, about anything she wanted to, without any restrictions, without a lifetime of debt on her shoulders, finally out from under the thumb of those wenches she was forced to call mother, and know, properly, for the first time in her life, what true love really felt like, with Komaru at her side. After all she’d suffered through, surely, she deserved this much?
It wasn’t lying, not in the usual way. It was just like Komaru telling Oogami she looked great in a dress that was completely the wrong colour for her. It was withholding information for someone else’s sake. This wasn’t deceit, it was considering Komaru’s feelings about the whole thing.
Komaru would want her to be happy, right? That was what friendship was about. And the only way she could ever be happy is serving under her Master.
All at once, she felt a bit silly. Why had she even thought that she had to choose? Husband and best friend were two completely different roles. Why did she even entertain the thought that they were competing? Maybe this was all just pointless anxiety that only existed because Toko was so unused to having people she didn’t want to lose. No one stuck around long enough.
But even as she told herself this, it didn’t settle her heart completely. Something still felt wrong.
This was all Asahina’s fault. That stupid assumption that her and Komaru could ever be like that. That she was anything like that at all. The first time she gets a real friend and Asahina had to ruin it by making it weird. That spiteful little gossip should keep her nose out of her business. Everyone was always trying to interfere with her life, and she was just completely sick of it.
This was friendship. Nothing more or less. And she only is okay with kissing Komaru because it’s for her Master, and she would do anything - anything for him, because she loves her Master, and she is not a fucking lesbian.
Notes:
next chapter title: Toko Fukawa is a lesbian.
i hope this is coherrent. and that Asahina doesn't come off too bad because its not her fault. Toko is just horrible OJGReiohghoi . It was a difficult chapter to write, so i hope its not as difficult to read. this is sort of the "middle" ish of the fic, or in my mind, it counts as the middle, bc from now on the plot amps up.
i hope u enjoyed <3 thank u for ur comments. i read them when im sad and self-concious and demotivated and it makes me feel better :')
see u in the next one !
Chapter 7
Notes:
Hi im late again oops
But im here now ! and thats what matters ..i hope. *sweats* . i just checked and in July it'll be a YEAR since I started posting and therefore writing this. this was NOT supposed to take this long!!! wtf happened! thank you all for sticking around so long oh my god.
Last thing to say is im sorry about the weird grammar problems in the last chapter ! idk how that escaped the notice of my multiple read thrus and the scanning of two seperate spelling and grammar checkers. but i have fixed it now! and hopefully that wont happen again.
anyway. da chapter. something tells me u'll like this one :3
Song:
- Deep Red : Movements
- Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away): Deftones.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The balcony door closed, blocking out the sound of the restaurant and Toko could finally breathe.
Booking a whole room on the top level of this restaurant for just her, her family, and the small publishing team was complete overkill. Of course, that’s exactly why her mothers had insisted on it. The only thing Toko could appreciate about it was that it meant the rooftop seating area was empty. The wind was sharply cold on her face and the quiet was a balm. Slowly, everything inside her started to turn down just a little.
She leaned against the balcony and looked out across the Tokyo skyline, the wind flicking the silky fabric of her dress against her legs. It was the nicest thing she owned, reserved just for meetings like this, where others' perception of her was king in the minds of her parents. The view was amazing. She just wished she could appreciate it properly. She felt the same about all of this. In any other context, a booked-out rooftop dining experience would’ve been something straight from her fantasies. But celebrating the release of another book written only for the sake of sales filled her with enough despair to stain the entire event black. She’d swore that even the skyline looked dimmer.
She checked her phone. It was nearly a compulsion at this point. The only thing helping her get through this hellish dinner experience had been subtly texting Komaru under the table when she was sure her parents were too pre-occupied with verbally sucking the dick of her publisher to notice. She’d expressed how much of a horrible time she’d been having to Komaru, that she wished she were anywhere but here. Soon after that, Komaru disappeared. Checking now, it seemed that hadn’t changed. She shoved her phone back in her pocket and gripped the stainless-steel bar of the balcony barrier a little tighter. So much for I’ll be there for you, Fukawa. She supposed she was at least 30% to blame for ever thinking Komaru could be reliable.
It was stupid, but Toko kind of felt like crying. She didn’t have a reason to cry. It wasn’t even like this was the worst things had been. Things definitely could be worse. They probably would be tonight. Even so, it was all a bit too much. That just made her angry and embarrassed, which made her want to cry more. It was a horrific cycle that only made her feel like the most pathetic creature that had ever dared to breathe.
Why the hell wasn’t Komaru texting her back? Toko was in half a mind to see how far her phone could travel across the skyline if she threw it with all her might. She was probably texting her other friends. Just because she had other friends to text. She was probably having a much better night than Toko was. She was probably feeling sorry for her, but like, in that pathetic, pitying way that people who think they’re better than you do. Not the good way where it makes people treat you nicely even if you don’t deserve it.
The sound of the door opening behind her and suctioning closed stopped her thoughts in their tracks. She only relaxed her shoulders when she recognised the footsteps.
“I knew you’d be out here.” her grandfather said through a smile as he leaned against the barrier next to her, “You always did love hiding away from everyone.”
“F-For g-good reason.” Toko grumbled.
He chuckled, a rough sound that made Toko think of a train clicking against its tracks. A lifetime of too many cigarettes was to blame for that. He always stank of tobacco. Bad enough that you always knew where the old man had been if he stood somewhere too long, the lingering smell like an acidic apparition. The association had made Toko fond of the smell of cigarettes, and as a child she’d thought they were classy. Now, she’d never admit that. She remembered a time when he’d offered her one, ripe at the age of 9. She’d taken it, taken a drag, and nearly thrown up from the taste. He’d laughed and laughed, and Toko remembered how warm it had made her that for once someone was laughing with her, instead of at her.
One of life’s greatest misfortunes was how much her grandfather looked like her father. The only thing she didn’t like about him was being reminded of that bastard. His slicked back salt-and-pepper hair was a boast, proudly showing off the full hairline he still managed to cling onto. His heavy glasses made him look cooly wise.
“You should enjoy yourself, Toko.” he croaked in that rumbling smoker’s voice.
Toko scoffed, “T-Thanks, but n-no thanks, old man. There’s n-nothing fun about being forced to pretend for their sake.”
He hummed in pleasant agreement. “I always thought you suited places like this.” he said wistfully, “One day, when you marry a rich man, things like this will become boring to you.” he bumped his shoulder playfully against hers, “Just don’t forget your old grandad when you’re having all that fun.”
Toko rolled her eyes and did her best to pretend that wasn’t charming. They looked out at the skyline together. Toko wished she wasn’t so tense, but there was no way she was going to be able to relax with how worked up she was. The thought of having to go back inside, to continue biting her tongue and faking a smile was setting her teeth on edge. She’d never been good at pretending. The way her mother looked at her from across the table was enough to know that hadn’t changed, and she wasn’t doing good enough tonight for their standards. That wasn’t surprising. Anything below kissing her publisher’s feet and crying out of gratitude was less than stellar in their eyes. After the way she’d reacted when the publisher had started edging towards discussions of continuing their book deal- the hard look her mother had given her, sharp as a slap, was enough to get her to stand and abruptly and improperly excuse herself from the table. She was going to pay for that later. The thought made her stomach tie tighter. She hated this. She hated this entire night. Everything inside her was screaming to run away. The knowledge that she had nowhere to go glued her in place.
There was a tension in her head, like something was pulling at her psyche. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she did have somewhere she could go. Somewhere away from this, giving it all over to someone else to deal with. It was a tempting thought.
She clenched her jaw as the pulling increased. A sleek, silver canister being shook in front of her face surprised her enough that the feeling lessened.
“Liquid courage.” her grandfather explained, “You look like you need it.”
She took it easily, “I’m still underage gramps.” she reminded him, continuing their usual script as she popped open the top.
“You’ve experienced enough to be allowed a drink, kiddo.”
She swallowed the whisky harshly and focused on the warmth spreading through her chest rather than the gasoline taste of alcohol in her mouth. She winced, and took another swig for good luck, then capped the bottle to pass it back. Her grandfather raised his hand in a casual refusal. Toko shrugged. He didn’t need to tell her twice. She leaned against the barrier again, the canister precariously dangling over the drop in her hands.
She checked her phone, even though she knew she was stupid for it. Her blank home screen stared back at her. She considered taking another swig from the canister.
“Who’s the friend?”
She nearly dropped both the canister and her phone, scrambling back from the edge and holding them close to her chest.
“W-What?”
Her grandfather’s smile made her embarrassment burn deeper, “You’ve been smiling at your phone under the table all night.” Toko looked away with a scowl, “A boy?” her grandfather pushed teasingly.
“N-No. My f-friend.” Toko bit back with a pout. Then, after a moment’s thought, “S-She’s an i-idiot.”
“I knew it.” he said smugly, “A boy never made you smile that much.”
Toko scowled at him, “W-What’s that supposed to mean?”
“ ‘Men are scoundrels ’ is what it means. I know, I am one.” his good humour drained quickly, remorse filling in its place, “Raised one too. Look at all the good it did you.”
“N-Not like it was just him…”
“True enough.” he sighed, then smiled, “She makes you happy. That makes me happy.”
A strange, hot embarrassment swept through Toko, “D-Don’t say it so seriously! She’s j-j-just a f-friend.”
“That is serious!” he exclaimed, smacking a hand on the railing as he turned to look her head on, “I don’t know the last time you had a friend. One that wasn’t me, anyway.”
“Y-You are not my friend! That’s e-even sadder than n-never having any friends!”
As always, her bitter jabs bounced off him like he was rubber. Instead of recoiling, her grandfather laughed, a proud and genuinely tickled laugh.
“You’re so funny, Toko.” he sighed, mirthful still, even as he managed to calm down, “I always loved that about you.”
The only times she remembered being happy in childhood were when she was with her grandparents.
Her grandparents had almost taken custody of her at one point. Toko yearned for the other timeline where they had. Where her grandmother hadn’t gotten so sick that she’d been bedridden, and her grandfather became her carer. There was no space for her then. It had been ugly when her grandmother had died. Her mothers had immediately gunned for her inheritance. Been doing so before she’d even passed. They didn’t make a secret of why they came to visit her, the rare times they did. Her father wasn’t any better. She’d always held out hope that her grandfather would take her in once her grandmother had passed. Then, he had that fall. By the time he was back on his feet, she’d written her first book, and her mothers saw gold. After that, no matter how much they hated her, there was no way they were giving her up. Even so, she couldn’t help but resent him a little bit for not saving her like she’d always wanted him to.
Her grandfather sighed, finally and pushed away from the railing.
“I’ll cover for you kid. Don’t let those swines get you down.” he patted her on the back, perhaps a bit harsher than he needed to. He never had been good at knowing his own strength.
Then, the door closed, and Toko was left alone with the skyline, the moon, and her thoughts.
‘She makes you happy’ . Asahina had said something similar. Now, with her grandfather’s agreement, she couldn’t deny it. Not that she needed other people’s input to come to this conclusion herself, but maybe now she could accept it, if only because it’d be more embarrassing to keep denying it when the evidence had to be obvious.
It was a difficult thing for her to admit. It made her feel naked. A lot about Komaru made her feel like that; exposed in a dangerous way. A way that had only ever been bad before. Now…Toko didn’t know what to think.
The last time she’d seen Komaru, it had been the same.
She’d been over Komaru’s house. A weird experience in and of itself. She didn’t know how to talk to her doting parents, who kept bombarding her with weird questions about herself, what she did in school. Little about her writing and a lot about her. Toko didn’t get it, and felt wholly uncomfortable the whole time. She was almost scared to speak, terrified her own horrible tongue would get her in trouble, or she’d say something wrong that would get her found out. Found out for what, she didn’t know. The more they’d smiled at her the worse it would get, even though Komaru insisted that they liked her and apologised constantly for how talkative they were. Komaru seemed a bit embarrassed of them, which at least made Toko feel a little calmer about the whole thing. She’d insisted she’d done fine. Toko just chose to take her word for it, for her own sake if anything.
They’d been in bed. Komaru’s mother had given her a futon to use. Even so, they’d ended up sharing. She didn’t know why, there wasn’t really enough room for the both of them on Komaru’s twin sized mattress, but they’d spent the night joined to the hip, shoulder to warm shoulder. It felt wrong to separate now. The feeling had to be mutual, because Komaru didn’t comment on it either, just held up the covers when Toko had come back from brushing her teeth. The thought of saying no didn’t even cross Toko’s mind. She got in, the blanket fell over her, and after a moment of quiet conversation, they’d faded into a restful quiet.
Komaru had kept her door open a crack and the light on in the landing. It distilled the darkness. Toko always felt easier about the dark when she knew she could escape it. She breathed in the subtle smell of Komaru’s room and gently rubbed her legs against her soft, clean bed sheets. She’d thought for a moment to worry about if she smelt bad. In so many ways, Komaru was cleaner than she was. But Komaru didn’t say anything. She never had. Not then, and not when she’d had to ask to have the door open a crack. Komaru had rested easily next to her, her even breathing just centimetres away from Toko’s face, but not invasive.
Toko had wished she’d never fall asleep, just so she could stay in this feeling for another moment longer.
Her leg bumped against Komaru’s, and her heart jumped at the contact. She’d ruined it. She snatched her leg back and curled closer into herself.
Her certainty was proved wrong quickly. The sound of movement against fabric, and then warmth. Komaru’s leg pushed against hers. Toko tested the limits. She shifted, pushed back against Komaru. In the dim light, Toko would swear Komaru was blushing. Despite how calm she was, her heart was pounding. The feeling only deepened when Toko took a risk and hooked her ankle with Komaru’s.
They watched each other through the darkness. Neither of them spoke. The eye contact made Toko feel queasy in a way she didn’t completely hate. But even then, it got too much. She curled into Komaru’s pillow and closed her eyes.
“Fukawa…Have you ever been in love before?”
Her eyes snapped back open.
“W-What’s brought this on?” she asked tentatively, stiff as a board, and tried her best to match Komaru’s hushed tone despite her panic.
Komaru shrugged, and tucked herself deeper into the covers, “Just curious.”
“C-Curiosity k-killed the cat, you know?” perhaps not the best metaphor for her to use of all people. Even if it wasn’t technically her fault. She suddenly felt shiftier than she had before.
Komaru was quiet, but her expression, even muted through the darkness between them, told all, “This Togami guy…You love him, right?”
Komaru asked the question so casually, like she didn’t just shove Toko even further off her already unsteady axis, “O-Of course.”
“How do you know?” Komaru must’ve mistaken Toko’s shock as confusion, as she repeated, much sterner than the question needed, “How do you know you love him?”
“I-I just know!” Toko snapped. She chased the outburst with regret. She shifted deeper under the covers, the skin of her ankle brushing against Komaru’s leg. “He’s am-mazing. He’s e-everything I want in life. He’s s-strong and capable and doesn’t let a-anyone tell him what to do. W-When he talks, everyone listens. The complete opposite of me.” Komaru’s stare was unnerving. She looked at the pillow under her head instead, “H-He’s untouchable. It’s so intimidating. I feel utterly p-pathetic when he looks at me, like I’m not even worth the air he b-breathes. Which m-makes sense, because I’m not.”
“Uh…That’s a good thing?”
“He doesn’t p-pretend with me like everyone else. I k-know where I st-tand with him. There’re n-no surprises if you know what you’re g-getting yourself into.”
Komaru’s confusion was plain to see. Her expression only got tighter. “...Right.” she said eventually, then after another moment’s consideration, she continued, “I guess I’ve never been in love then, because I really don’t understand.”
“W-What’s so hard to understand?”
“I just thought love was supposed to make you happy.” Komaru turned onto her back. Their ankles unhooked, but their legs still touched. Toko was happy for the break in eye contact. It meant Komaru couldn’t see how her expression went slack, “My parents look pretty happy, and they always say they’re in love. And I don’t think either of them are beneath the other…”
Toko bristled, clenching the blanket tightly in her hands, “L-Lucky you! Just r-rub in your p-picture perfect family life why don’t you!”
Komaru pushed herself up onto her forearm in her shock, “Sorry! Oh my god, that’s not what I meant at all!” Komaru sighed and rested back on her forearms, “I suppose it doesn’t really matter in the end anyway…”
Toko peered at her through the darkness, trying in vain to read what she couldn’t uncover from her voice in her face, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Komaru lay back down and turned her back to Toko and took her leg away from her’s. Toko felt the loss as strongly as she’d felt the touch itself. Komaru didn’t react either way. She just pulled the cover over her shoulder, and mumbled, “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
Just as randomly as it had started, the conversation ended. Komaru filled the room with a strange awkward tension, then selfishly left Toko to stew in it alone. And stew she did.
Though the conversation had apparently meant nothing to Komaru, it lingered with Toko longer than she ever would’ve liked. It kept her awake for too long, her leg feeling distinctly cold as she stared at the ceiling and wound and unwound the conversation so many times it ended up a knotted incomprehensible mess.
Now, standing on this skyscraper rooftop, watching as dark clouds heavy with rain snuck across the night sky and blacked out the stars, Toko tried again to untangle this knot in her brain. What is love? She had been sure she loved her Master. What else could this obsessive, possessive feeling be but love? If she thought it was love, was that enough? It had to be love, because everything she’d done, the bad and the even worse, had all been for love. Toko had to know what love was. She made a living writing about it.
But how could she be sure when she’d never even seen real love before?
Once again, she had to ask herself if any of this was normal. Too much of this was still so new to Toko. How was she supposed to know how to differentiate these emotions? Any research she did only left her more confused than she started. So many girls spoke about how close and intimate female friendships could get. What if this is just that, and she’s acting like an idiot because she’s just a lonely pathetic girl who's never had a friend before? Does she feel the same way about Komaru as she does her Master?
She stared at her reflection in the black mirror of her phone screen, her hair whipping around her face as the weather worsened.
She imagined his number brightening her phone screen, asking where she was, and imagined telling him everything. In her fantasy, he arrived in an expensive sporty car, stormed up to the party, swept her off her feet and carried her away. He valiantly defied her parents, putting them in their place, and then he would take her away from all of this, into the safety of his arms with a promise that she’d never feel pain again.
Her lip curled. She roughly unscrewed the cap of her canister and took a long swig.
Toko had always wanted to be saved. The first few books she’d written had been about that. Men swooping in to save downtrodden women off their feet and into a happier life. Cinderella stories. Looking back, she could only describe them as trite and formulaic. But even now, she sometimes slept with her window open, just in case one of those heroes from her stories finally decided to grab her hand in the night and start running until everything that harmed her was so far behind it would all just feel like a bad dream. For the first time in a while she yearned for that. She wished so hard her chest ached, like if she hurt hard enough, something in the universe would hear her and grant her wish.
If that was how things worked, she wouldn’t be here. Until that happened, Toko knew she was going to have to save herself.
It was getting cold. The clouds crowded over her, darker and heavier by the minute. Rain would fall soon. She took one more breath, deep into her lungs, and let it out slowly. She fiddled with the small bag on her shoulder until the canister and her phone fit inside. It was a tight fit, but she managed it. There was no use denying the inevitable, and the longer she stayed hiding out here, the more ammo she gave her mothers.
“ Toko! ”
The voice stilled her. Her heart skipped, tripping over the call. She whipped around, ready to face nothing, to find out it was a hallucination.
But it wasn’t a hallucination. It was real.
“ ‘ O-Omaru ?!”
Komaru was there, standing on the rooftop, breathless with a look on her face so determined it sent a shiver through her.
Her parents quickly appeared in the doorway behind her, the small party flooding out into the stormy nighttime air.
“Young lady, this is a private event!” her mother snapped.
Komaru charged forwards, as if her mother hadn’t said a word. Her mother continued to bark, appalled at the audacity Komaru was presenting. It was probably the closest her and her mother had been to being on the same page her whole life.
“‘O-Omaru.” Toko just about managed to find her voice over the hard beating of her heart, ”W-What are you doing here?”
The wind blew, whipping through Komaru’s hair. Staring into Toko’s eyes she held out her hand, “Let’s go.”
Toko’s brain stalled. Everything felt surreal. She wondered for a moment if this was a fantasy, if she’d fallen off the roof and this was her final dream as she fell.
She hesitated, looking between the offered-out hand and Komaru’s steadily determined expression, “B-But-”
“Young lady!”
She flinched back at the sound of her mother’s voice.
“You don’t wanna be here, right?” Komaru spoke over her. Toko couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She’d never had the courage to deny them like that, and here Komaru was standing stronger than Toko had ever been able to even with her mothers’ anger stabbing into her back.
Standing under the stormy, starless sky, backlit by the light of the restaurant behind her, Komaru was a golden light in an otherwise black and dismal scene. The wind was wild in her hair and whipping through her clothes, her parents shouting in the background, but Komaru’s attention didn’t waver from Toko for even a second.
Komaru’s hand, open and innocent, standing between her and the rest of the night. There, in the lines that creased Komaru’s palm, lay everything she’d ached for.
With a firm steadiness in her stare that told Toko everything would be alright, Komaru offered her hand to Toko again and smiled and said softly, “Then let's go.”
Komaru was nothing like the heroes she’d always fantasised would save her. She was real. There was no way Toko could say no.
Toko took Komaru’s hand. Komaru grasped it tight, and Toko’s chest constricted, butterflies raved, breaking free of her stomach and fluttering up into her chest cavity and battering into her lungs. Komaru wasted no time, a quick step to her pace that was a beat away from running. Toko had to scurry to keep up with her, grabbing her dress and pulling it up so her legs could move freely.
Her mother blocked the doorway to the restaurant.
“You will not ignore me! Have you no respect for your elders?!”
Komaru put her body between her and her mothers’. Toko didn’t understand the feeling that gave her, a glowing warmth that made her feel small and delicate, like something worth defending.
“I’m sorry I disturbed your dinner, ma’am.” Komaru replied curtly, “But we’re leaving.”
Komaru pushed past her parents.
“You will be doing nothing of the sort!” One of her mother’s shrieked.
She was a slave to Komaru’s whims, so she was easily pulled onwards, too dumbstruck to think, just aware enough to be frightened at the tone her mother used. Komaru didn’t flinch.
A hand roughly snatched Toko’s wrist. She yelped, more out of shock than pain, as her mother dragged her backwards. Still, Komaru didn’t relent,
“Let her go!”
Everything moved in slow motion. One mother’s nails biting into the thin skin of her wrist, scratching old memories to the surface, memories that were more body than thought, Komaru pulling her away, the unbelieving stare of her publicist, her father cowering, the restaurant staff approaching to try and mediate, her emotions flashing between high and low; it was too much. The pulling in her mind returned. Her mind tearing, threatening to be ripped straight from her white knuckled grasp. But Toko held firm, held onto control as hard as she could through the onslaught of emotion.
Then, her other mother slapped Komaru. The sound reverberated in Toko’s skull, until it was all she could hear, until everything else faded to the background.
“How dare you!” her mother shouted.
There was a humming in Toko’s brain. It built into a whistle, a kettle on a stove.
Komaru froze and brushed her cheek with her hand in shock. It was already turning red.
The squealing of the kettle in her mind peaked and Toko went under.
-
It had been too fucking long.
That was the main thought on Syo’s mind. It had been too fucking long since she’d been allowed out. She felt so excited, like she could just burst or scream or something. She couldn’t burst no matter how hard she tried. Maybe she could burst someone else, but there were more important things to deal with right now. So, Syo did the thing she could do and screamed. It totally helped that she absolutely loved screaming. She was over needing to scream but she kept screaming just because it was fun. Her parents hated screaming and loud noises, well, only when it came from her or her other half anyway, and that just made Syo love screaming and loud noises even more.
She revelled in the sound of her laughter clattering off the walls of the hallways they ran through. It made her laugh more, like when you watch those comedy shows that have a laugh track in the background. Syo’s echoing laughter was like her own glorious laugh track. There was no one else who could find her just as funny as she found herself, so it made a lot of sense.
Hand in hand, they burst out of the restaurant into the streets. To make it even more fun, it was raining. Syo loved the rain because she wasn’t supposed to run in it, and Syo loved doing things she wasn’t supposed to do. As if to emphasise this, her good for nothing parents stopped chasing her once they reached the door of the restaurant. Good. Things were going according to plan.
Whatever the plan was!
Syo wasn’t entirely sure who the hell this boring looking broad was, other than a feeling that she was someone important and her name. But the fine details didn’t matter right now. Those residual feelings that bled over from her other half to her were what Syo focused on. Syo had awoken with the singular goal in mind of PROTECT KOMARU. Maybe her other half wouldn’t have worded it like that, but that was how Syo understood it so that’s what she’d do . This was a bit different to what she usually got shoved with, definitely a complete flip on the script and definitely way more boring, but Syo would do what Syo had to do to protect her other personality. She was her, after all. Even if the other one was a wimpy loser, their objectives always aligned quite nicely in the end, even if her lame-o personality would never agree with that.
They probably never would see eye to eye. Mostly because that was physiologically and psychologically impossible. That was also probably for the best, because Syo didn’t think she’d be able to resist stabbing her eyes out, if only so she could see what it would look like if she did that to herself and get to survive with the memory. What other serial killer would be able to say that they successfully murdered themselves and lived to tell the tale?
“W-What the hell are you talking about?!”
“WHOOPSIE DAISY! Seems like I got a bit too excited there! Not my fault you know, I’m not used to having to keep my thoughts to myself! I usually have free reign to say whatever I like, and nobody can tell me otherwise.”
Syo had forgotten how fun it was to see that slack and confused expression on people’s faces. Syo preferred the expression to hold more of a disturbed factor than Komaru’s did. Komaru just seemed plain, old, uncomplicatedly baffled. Her reactions were just as boring as the rest of her.
“W-” Komaru shook her head, as if to reject her thoughts she had to physically shake them off, “Where are you taking me?!”
Syo giggled. Now that was more what she was used to! Komaru stopped running, grinding her feet into the floor. That threw Syo off balance, and combined with the water from the rain, it was enough that when Komaru ripped her hand out of her grasp, Syo couldn’t stop it.
“Y-You know, I was supposed to be the one taking you away from here, not the other way around!” Komaru held her arm above her forehead to stop the rain hitting her face.
“Hmm, what’s a little switchin’ of roles to keep the relationship interesting, Dekomaru ?” Syo said through a dirty grin, “I gotta keep you on your toes, ya’know? I never get the chance to play the hero. I’m thinking about havin’ a change of heart. You know, a redemption arc or something, that’d totally get the readers gushing wet with excitement!” she paused for shock, or relief, or laughter. Komaru was staring at her like she suddenly turned into jelly. Syo waited for Komaru to take a breath to begin speaking, “ JUST KIDDING! Can you imagine? How fucking boring would that be?! No blood or guts or scissors or pretty boys getting all cut up and thrown around?! We wouldn’t be anywhere without a little killing!”
Komaru only got more confused as the conversation went on. Syo was having so much fun.
“I-I thought you hated blood?”
“Blood is my politics; blood is my life! Take whatever you like!”
Syo tried to hold back her laughter at the look on Komaru’s face, but some giggles still slipped through. Restraint wasn’t really her forte.
“Toko.” Komaru held a hand to her head, too baffled by Syo to even care about the rain running in sheets down her face, her hair plastered to her forehead. What an ego boost that was, “What is going on-”
Boring question. She didn’t want to answer it. So, she snatched up Komaru’s hands and dragged her into the road, spinning as they went. Komaru shouted in surprise, the question promptly forgotten.
“Dance with me Dekomaru!” Syo sang, swinging Komaru around like she weighed nothing. Komaru shouted in shock and protest as she scrambled to get her feet underneath her. It was obvious she couldn’t keep up, but watching her try was so damn cute, it just made Syo want to spin her faster.
All this to say, she was 50 shades of surprised when Komaru did manage to catch up with her. Komaru shook her head and any confusion on her face transformed into a smile.
Syo paid no mind to where she stepped. She stomped her kitten heels into a puddle and cooed as she shivered at the thrill of the cold water splashing up her leg. Komaru was caught in the crossfire, but her shout of surprise turned to laughter.
Quickly, it turned too simple. She wanted to throw Komaru off her kilter again. With movements too fast for Komaru, Syo twirled Komaru into her until Komaru’s back hit her chest. She leered at her over her shoulder, holding her hands by the wrist out of the way as she crept her face closer to hers. Komaru blushing and adverting her eyes only to squeeze them shut hadn’t been on her bingo cards of reactions she would give to that. It made her second guess the reason Komaru’s hands trembled in her iron grip. It wasn’t the effect she’d been going for, but it was new. That made it exciting. She wanted to push it. The moment she sensed Komaru had settled, she spun her out, flinging her into a spin that sent her flying until she whipped to a stop when their arms reached full extension.
A crack sounded, echoing through the street. It snatched laughter from Syo’s chest like a cough. A flash of light out of nowhere; searing, impossible white. Then after a second, the rumbling started. A low groaning thunder that Syo would swear made the streets tremble.
A thunderstorm, and Syo was around to see it.
She couldn’t stop laughing. She abandoned Komaru completely to prance around, wishing with all her heart that lightning would strike her. She wanted to feel it. The eroticism of embracing nature at its most violent and unpredictable would’ve made her sweat if she wasn’t already frozen through with winter rain. Syo understood thunderstorms. She thought they could understand her too.
The second time the lightning struck, she heard Komaru cry out. The thunder rumbled, and in her blind, happy dancing, she nearly tripped over Komaru from where she crouched in a ball on the floor.
“What, don’t tell me you’re scared of a little rain?” Komaru chanced a look at her from where she cowered on the floor, “All that bravado and now a little thunder and a lightning makes you - BOO! ” Komaru flinched back with an embarrassing yelp, and Syo cackled so hard she lost balance. Komaru wasn’t impressed. She obviously couldn’t find the humour in this situation like Syo could. Ugh. Syo slumped bonelessly in her disappointment, “Why the fuck would you run all the way out here in a storm if you’re scared of thunder?!”
“Y-You called me!”
Syo tilted her head like a dog, “Eh?”
Despite her trembling, Komaru stood up again, nearly full height, if it wasn’t for the terrified hunch in her shoulders. Komaru grabbed her wrist, and Syo was still so unused to being touched so easily she let her. Komaru struggled to look up, speaking to the puddles soaking into her shoes, “I-I promised you. I said if you ever felt alone or scared, you could call me and I’d take you away from it!” she lifted her head, and the look in her eyes felt like the thunder and sent the same goosebumps rippling across her skin. “I-I’m not breaking that promise! Not ever!”
What had her other self been up to while she’d been locked away? She’d thought things had been different. If it was anyone else, Syo would’ve laughed straight in their face, and made sure some spit got on them too for good measure. But there was no denying the residual warmth in her chest, the memory of emotions that didn’t belong to her swirling in her stomach. Komaru stared her straight in the eye, even as she trembled, even though she was so scared she was struggling to stand, and said, “If it’s for you, I can handle a little thunder.”
Maybe they weren’t just residual emotions anymore. This feeling, it was entirely hers.
Syo squealed, drew it out until she couldn’t make a sound anymore, her hands only tightening against Komaru’s as she swooned. She fell backwards, careening head over heels as the feeling swept through her. Komaru gasped, and quickly scrambled to catch her, like she actually needed to be caught. Oh, this girl was too much. So sickly sweet, she could feel her teeth rotting on their roots.
Komaru held her in her arms, spouting nonsense questions like ‘are you okay?’, staring at her with eyes so wide Syo could drown in them. Komaru held her like it was second nature, without even a question of whether she should.
That made the penny drop. There was no way her other half had told her who she was, who they really were. All this emotional melodrama rattling her off her feet for nothing. Of course she held her easily, she didn’t even know what she was holding; that the pin had been pulled from the grenade long before it had been thrown at her.
She almost showed her. Blew off her hand as a warning to never play with explosives again. Soaked in rain, with it still pelting down onto them, her blood would run the streets in curling streams of red.
Then, lightning struck again, and the thunder rumbled louder than it had before, and Komaru crumbled like a cookie. Down to her feet, the hand that wasn’t cutting the blood from Syo’s curled protectively over her head. Scared to death of the thunder but determined enough to stay by her side. It was all Syo could do to not die from laughter at the ridiculousness of it all.
“GIRL you’re CRAZY! And that’s coming from me, a bonafide PSYCHOPATH! I got the fancy certificate and everything to show it!” her joking went unappreciated, as usual, “You’re ruining the whimsy of this you know! And you wore a white top and everything! I can see your bra!” Syo hooked her fingers under Komaru’s bra strap and snapped it against her back. Komaru yelled in offense, and scrambled to try and catch Syo, but it was easy to dance away from her.
With a quick two step, she doubled back on Komaru and snatched her wrist. PROTECT KOMARU had been her job. She couldn’t exactly say she wasn’t in danger anymore with how scared she was. This was so much more hassle than killing.
“Come on Dekomaru, I know where we can go!”
“I don’t like your tone-” thunder cracked again, loud but still not loud enough to completely mute Komaru’s fearful yell, “Okay, okay! Whatever! J-Just please. Get me out of this! I can’t take anymore!” Komaru relented, fearful and panicked in a way that curled deliciously in Syo’s stomach and made her giggle like a kid.
Then they were off again, Syo dragging Komaru by the wrist through the rainy backstreets, following her instinct tugging at her gut. Syo changed their direction, round the corner, up a side road and down the street, then her target was in her sights. Syo dragged Komaru forwards, past the tall boundary wall and through the broken gate at the back of the school. Lightning struck, a flash of white and purple that flooded the tall buildings of Hope’s Peak Academy for half a second before they were shrouded in the darkness of the stormy night once more.
Notes:
It was so fun having you guys in the last chapter suddenly being like "Where's Syo?" "is Syo gonna be in this?" . its like u guys could sense her coming >:)
i cant wait to show u next chapter. its the scene i've had in my head since i first thought about this fic back in like. 2022 (yes i've been here that fucking long. someone let me out let me out LET ME OUT-).
Also, if my planning is right, we only have 4 more chapters left :0 . so i should be finished by 2027! (JOKE)
thank u so much for all your comments and kudos and continued support and patience and excitment for this fic ;u; it genuinely means the world ur all so lovely to me i couldn't be happier to share this with u all <3
see u in the next one !!
Chapter 8
Notes:
oh my god. hi.
sorry for the disappearance. between posting the last chapter and this one, I started my first real legit full time 9-5 monday to friday job !!! what the hell ! life is crazy!
all this to say, this is why the chapter took so long and also......as slow as updates have been in the past....um. prepare for them to get even fucking slower. im so sorry. OTL. please stick with me. OTL. The first half of this chapter has been sitting written in my drafts for so long I kept forgetting I hadn't actually posted it, it felt llike its own chapter all by itself.
Anywayyyyy!!!!!! Heheheheeeeeeeee!!!!!! I hope this chapter is worth the wait !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this whole chapter was the first scene I had visualised for this fic. This entire fic has been building up to this exact point. This was the birth of this entire idea. I hope you like it <3 because it feels surreal to finally get to share it.
Song for this chapter:
> Never Have Sex - Leith Ross
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The sound of the door slamming open boomed in waves across the wide expanse of the hall, like the still air was recoiling in fright at the sudden disturbance when Syo kicked the door open, then once more when she slammed it closed after Komaru stumbled inside. The sound echoed into silence again, until all that was left was a quiet hum of machines working under their feet and the heavy, persistent pounding of the rain against the roof of the gym high above their heads. The smell of their wet clothes and hair mixed with the strong smell of chlorine and bleach, until everything smelt heavy and wet.
By her side, Komaru finally caught her breath enough to stand up straight. She looked around,
“A…pool? Why the hell are we here? Why not your dorm?”
“Plot convenience!” Syo announced with a wide, showman like posturing of her hands. Komaru’s stern confusion drained her humour. Syo was starting to wonder if there was ever a time Komaru didn’t look confused. She growled with frustration, “You’re the pussy who couldn’t take being in the rain for two more seconds! This was the closest place I could think of! The dorms are aaaall the way the other side of campus.” she folded her arms in a pout, “Plus, you gotta let me have a little fun here. Breaking and entering isn’t my favourite crime, but it’s definitely top 5.”
“I don’t know why I even asked.” Komaru said wearily. She sighed, and pulled a hand down her face, flicking away the excess water. She examined Syo with a look that was all too familiar, like she was some sort of impressionist painting in a museum and Komaru was trying to figure out which way she needed to tilt her head to finally make sense of her. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight…”
“The better question is what’s gotten out.” Syo snickered at her own bad joke, then sighed dramatically, swinging her body with the weight of her breath, “Ah, don’t worry your stupid little head over it, Dekomaru.” she accented her words with a fluttering pat on Komaru’s head. She swatted her hand away,
“D-Don’t call me stupid.”
“Then ya better wise up, sister!”
Syo left Komaru to wobble over to the bleachers. The thunder still rumbled, and she saw Komaru tense at the sound, hugging her arms and rubbing them. But here, the sound was dulled enough she seemed a bit calmer. Syo didn’t know what scared Komaru about the storm, but being out of it seemed to be enough. The windows here were wide but thin and fogged. A streetlight outside shone as a fuzzy diluted blot of light on the window. If the lightning was nearby, maybe she could see it if she was looking at the right time, but it wasn’t likely. Either way, she figured the storm was probably moving away from them. Every time the thunder rumbled, it seemed to be quieter, and the gaps between the cracks got longer and longer. For now, they’d wait here until it was gone completely. After that, Syo would feel satisfied.
She took a leisurely stroll to the edge of the pool. The overhead lights were off, but that was to be expected. What was surprising was that it didn’t mean the natatorium was dark. Instead, it was lit a slightly ghoulish, unsettling green blue that flickered and waved, and its source was lights inside the walls of the pool itself. The thing was massive; Olympic sized and split into even rows with floating separators. The section they stood closest to, at the back of the hall, was the largest of the sections. By her feet, numbers indicated the depth of the pool, getting deeper one way, shallower the other. Syo walked the edge of the pool like a tightrope, following along the numbers as they counted up and up. She stopped somewhere in the middle and stared into the crystalline water at the polished, matte tiles below. Though it hardly counted as a height of any real significance, Syo felt that same pull- the call of the void. The uniform tiles below its surface taunted her.
She rarely ever got let out on such casual terms, and never for this long. She wanted to enjoy it for all she could.
Syo’s dress hit the floor in a heavy, wet lump. She shivered at the air suddenly hitting her exposed skin and revelled in the goosebumps that prickled her neck to ankle. She giggled at the feeling, shivering happily into it.
“Wh-What the hell are you doing?!” Komaru squealed like a rat that had been stepped on.
“Skinny dipping, duuuuh” Syo groaned, lolling out her tongue for added effect.
Komaru was looking squarely across the room away from Syo, with a posture so stiff she was almost elevating off the bench she sat on. The sight was too funny, and Syo giggled to herself at her expense.
“Toko,” Komaru said, then swallowed, “Y-you’re r-really starting to scare me.”
Syo stopped dead. Slowly, she turned full body to stare at Komaru. In the heavy silence, Komaru chanced a thin glance towards Syo. Syo waited for a punch line that never came.
“NOW?” Syo yelled, “NOW, I’M SCARING YOU? NOW?!” Komaru flinched, her wet clothes dripping onto the floor, looking absolutely everywhere but at her. “Jeez, if all it took was taking my top off, I would’ve stripped ages ago!”
Komaru closed her eyes tight, “W-What the hell is even the point in getting naked to get in the pool if your clothes are already soaked?” Komaru’s voice still hadn’t returned to its normal pitch, squealing high on her prudish embarrassment.
“It’s not like you have to join me, Scaredy Cat-maru.” Syo sang, “You’re so dramatic. Naked. You wish. I still have my underwear on.” she walked back from the edge of the pool, counting her paces as she went. She stopped next to Komaru and the way she flinched and snapped her head the opposite direction to her made her giggle something giddy.
“Just…I didn’t think people actually did that.”
Syo sucked her teeth and snatched off her glasses. “What the fuck do I care about what other people normally do?” she mocked in a ridiculous tone that matched the ridiculousness of her statement before tossing her glasses into Komaru’s lap. Komaru fumbled to catch them and glared at her, “I’m doing what feels good to me. Fuck everyone else! Everyone else can suck my fat cock!”
She ran, bare feet slapping against the tile, the edge of the pool rushing closer as her heart beat pounded harder, her eyes dilating, her blood rushing. Then she jumped, and for one glorious second there was nothing beneath her feet but air, until she fell and the pounding of blood in her head was drowned out by the crashing of water as it rushed past her ears.
“Toko!”
Syo’s pulled her head out of the water, throwing it and her hair back out of her face in an arch, flinging water across the pool as she cackled loud and rowdy and free. Her laughter filled the silent air of the natatorium, on and on as joy made her body feel like it was covered in electric pins buzzing and frying her skin. Happiness this pure was rare for her, she always forgot how thrilling it could be.
“WRONG!” Syo shouted, “Toko would never do shit like this! She’s fucking terrified of water!” Syo slowly swam back towards the edge of the pool, the tips of her toes just grazing the tiles beneath her, holding Komaru’s stare for the first time since they’d entered the school pool. “Mother didn’t like her crying because little Toko didn’t want a bath, so she forced her. Toko almost drowned so many times. And she’d scream and cry and beg for it to stop, but why the fuck would mother listen then when she’d never listened before?” she reached the edge of the pool. It could’ve been the lighting washing her out, or perhaps her blurred vision- without her glasses, Komaru was more colour than shape- but from where she was, Komaru looked pale. She pushed on the edge of the pool back towards the centre and spun as she glided through the water, “But that’s why she has me!” she sang cheerfully. Her floating slowed to a stop, but she wasn’t done feeling the water move and pull against her body. She turned this way and that, running her arms through the water cutting violent waves through the undulating surface, “And me? I love to swim!” Syo cackled as she smacked and pulled and danced through the water. Every wave was a thrill, the chaos of every splash a spark of joy. A sudden idea struck her, “Hey, hey! Look how long I can hold my breath for!” Syo took a huge lungful of air, as big as she could hold and a little more, then dunked herself fully under the water.
A rush of bubbles popping and racing past her ears, then silence. Thick silence, like pressure that wrapped her whole. A silence you could touch and that touched you back. Not like any silence that Syo had heard anywhere else. It was a safe feeling, a feeling she couldn’t quite place, like the water holding her took some sort of weight she didn’t even know was there away from her. It was the closest thing she’d felt to flying.
The sound of something else crashing into the water pulled her thoughts away from the thumping of her heart in her head. The rush of bubbles formed a white and foaming curtain that slowly parted to reveal a pair of bare legs stained pale white through the filter of blue water and yellow light.
Syo slowly floated up until her nose broke the surface. She stared at Komaru through the soaked clumps of hair that fell in her face. Komaru stood as if on pins, with her arms awkwardly in the air, like she was trying not to get wet despite having willingly jumped in a pool. Komaru met her stare, and Syo smirked,
“Cute undies.” she gurgled.
Komaru’s blush doubled, and with a scowl she dunked Syo’s head back under the water. But as quick as her hands were to push her under, they were just as quick to be snatched back.
“OH MY GOD!” Komaru gasped. Syo resurfaced, spluttering around the mouthful of water she’d inhaled, “Oh my god, Toko, I’m so sorry I didn’t-I-I wasn’t thinking! I’m such a moron- I can’t believe I did that after you-”
“Y-YOU EVIL BASTARD!” Syo yelled around her hacking and coughing. Any composure she managed to regain once she stopped coughing, she lost again laughing. She laughed so hard she nearly fell backwards, stumbling to catch her footing and sinking back under the water in the process. The look of mortification on Komaru’s face did absolutely nothing to help, “That’s so fucked up! You’re fucked up Dekomaru! Holy shit. I can’t breathe.” Less she couldn’t breathe and more she couldn’t catch her breath. Case and point, when she finally did heave in a proper breath, everything went wrong. “FUCK! I snorted some!” the water burned the back of her nose, and she tried to cough, tried to do anything but what her body wanted. “No- I’m- I’m gonna-”
But the burning turned to tickling, and the tickling built until -
-
“A-choo!”
Cold.
The first thing she felt was the cold. Head to toe- even her hair was cold. Why the hell was she cold? What the hell was going on with her centre of gravity and- more importantly - where the hell were her clothes?
She opened her eyes. Suddenly, none of those questions mattered to her at all.
Everything was a blur, like the world had turned to an oil pastel painting that had all its lines smudged under the artist’s thick thumb. Even so, she could see enough to see the water. To see her body waving and morphing into strange lines and shapes through the surface of it. Water, all around her, water, stretching out forever. Water, seeping the heat from her body, drawing her life away. Water and she was in it. She took a breath, and water went in her mouth, and she was choking and coughing and then she screamed,
“aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“No no no- Toko! You’re okay! It’s okay, it's alright, you’re safe! I’ve got you-”
A touch on her shoulder, Toko ripped herself away, hands up in defence, “D-DON’T TOUCH ME!”
“O-Okay! Okay! L-Let’s get to the edge and get out, come on.”
Toko didn’t need telling twice, but she was nearly too stiff with fear to move. She wanted to run, but the splashing of the water was nearly worse than staying in it. She followed Komaru, gut churning as the water pulled heavily against her limbs, as if dragging her back, trying to pull her under and hold her there where she couldn’t breathe and couldn’t escape.
“I knew this was a dumb idea.” Komaru sighed, but Toko hardly heard her.
Eventually she was out. Finally out, finally free of the water. She curled up on the side of the pool, head in her knees as she tried to remember how to breathe normally. Something touched her back and she flinched and looked up. Komaru was hovering above her, holding her glasses out to her. It took her a moment for her brain to process what was happening, but when it finally worked, she took her glasses back with shaking hands and put them back on her face. She buried her head again and heard Komaru sit down next to her. Soon after, her touch returned, and even with the pre-warning, she still flinched. But Komaru's soft reassurances helped her relax into her touch as she rubbed gentle circles against her back. It was kind of nice. She focused on the warm feeling of Komaru’s hand and once she did that, breathing became easier.
The water rolled off her body and pooled on the hard tiles beneath her. She was covered in goosebumps, and her shivering was now less from fear and more from the chill in the air. From the slight tremble and hitch in Komaru’s breathing, she knew she wasn’t the only one feeling it. She hadn’t appreciated it at the time, but it was a lot warmer in the water than it was out here. That didn’t mean she wanted to get back in it.
The filters hummed quietly under the floor. She looked at the windows, at the halo of light that spotted against the fogged glass and saw it speckled with rain. Listening now, she could hear it pattering on the metal roof of the natatorium, gentle, rhythmic and consistent. It helped cool her heart. She breathed in and breathed out. She pushed her fringe out of her face, smoothing it behind her ears before hugging her knees again.
“W-why the hell were we in the water? A-And w-where are our c-clothes?” Komaru’s hand paused on her back. Toko let out a sigh, already tired in anticipation of whatever her other self had done to get them in this mess. “D-Don’t answer that.” she grumbled and buried her head back in her knees. Komaru’s hand didn’t return to her back. It was hard not to miss it. She tilted her head so she could see Komaru over her arm. She seemed uncertain, hugging her knees and chewing her lip as she glared at the water of the pool. “Y-You’re freaked out, aren’t you?” Toko asked tentatively.
Komaru froze, looked at Toko then looked away again, “Whaaaat?” Komaru winced with a laugh as stiff as her posture had turned.
“D-Don’t play dumb, ‘Omaru. Y-You’re a shitty liar.”
Komaru was quiet, before she sighed, “Okay, yeah, I am. I’m royally freaked out, Toko.” Komaru searched what little she could see of her face for something, “What the hell was all that? It didn’t seem like an act.”
Toko sighed, she pushed her head into the hard bone of her kneecaps. She’d hoped it would never come to this. She’d hoped against all hope that she could somehow manage to go through all of high school and not have this sort of conversation. That she could maybe, for once, skirt along the lines of something like normality, even if it was a complete facade. Maybe before she could’ve convinced herself it didn’t matter anyway, that she didn’t care what Komaru thought. Not anymore.
She took a breath, and held it tight in her chest, just to have something to hold onto, “T-That…W-Was my o-other half.”
Her confession lingered in the quiet, floating over the hum of the water filter and the drum of the rain. Then Komaru leaned forwards, attempting to look at her better,
“Your other half?”
Toko lifted her head from her knees and looking out across the slowly rippling pool water, she let go of the breath and the terrible truth that she’d kept locked away in her chest.
“I cried a lot as a kid. I-I was always so s-scared, and I was a weak kid, so I’d a-always cry. This one time, I just c-couldn’t stop. I c-can’t even remember what it was over anymore. I just remember crying. I cried ‘til I was nearly s-sick, and still k-kept c-crying. My parents had been ignoring me, they always did. But that day, it m-must’ve been t-too m-much. They tried shouting, they tried h-hitting me, it didn’t matter. I just c-couldn’t stop crying, and e-everything was making it worse. T-They’d obviously had enough of dealing with me, so one of them g-grabbed me and threw me in this c-cupboard under the stairs. I-I was always so s-scared of that cupboard. I-I was convinced it was filled with sp-piders. W-When I was y-younger than that, I heard a w-weird noise from there and had thought that m-maybe a m-monster lived in there. I-I don’t know. I was a s-stupid, cowardly kid, so I got scared at s-stupid, c-cowardly stuff. So, when they th-threw me in there, and they p-pushed something in front of the door to k-keep me in there, I-I was scared shitless. B-But not because of the spiders, o-or the monster that m-might’ve been under there. It was the d-dark.
“It was…It was s-so d-dark. N-Now, I d-don’t understand how it could’ve been a-as d-dark as I r-remember it. It had to be my k-kid brain m-making it worse than it was. B-But I swore it was the d-darkest room I’d ever been in. I felt like I was ch-choking on it. When I p-pounded on the door and screamed and cried and n-no one responded, it got worse. I-I had this r-really h-horrible thought that I wasn’t even under my stairs anymore. T-That the darkness was s-so d-deep a-and b-black because I’d f-fallen through the floor, t-that I was someplace else, all alone, with n-nothing but darkness forever and ever. M-M-Maybe if I managed to stop c-crying, I could’ve listened and I’d have p-probably heard my parents w-walking around the house or whatever, but I was a s-stupid fucking kid. I-I didn’t think of that, s-so I just k-kept c-crying.
“I felt s-so alone. I-I’d always been alone, but it had n-never felt like that before. It was p-painful, a gut-wrenching pain that I just c-couldn’t bear anymore. I would’ve welcomed a m-monster or a spider or a-anything right then. I just w-wanted someone w-with me. It was the loneliest I’d e-ever felt. I was so l-lonely and s-so s-scared…I-I just broke.
“I don’t know if that's the f-first time she ever showed up. I-I don’t know if it was a slow build o-or if there even was a real catalyst. But that's my earliest memory of it. Just wishing so bad to be s-somewhere else, to have s-someone with me, for this h-horrible situation to not be happening to me, t-that my brain just sh-shut off. The next thing I remembered was being in my room. I’d changed clothes and had dinner, and my parents were angry at me still b-but now it was for something different. I didn’t understand what had happened. I-I couldn’t remember anything. Just darkness then, it was like I b-blinked and I was free.
“Ever since then, I’ve been able to feel her. Really, I got my wish. I’m n-never alone anymore, not even when I’m by myself.” Toko huffed a laugh, but it lacked humour, “M-More of a monkey’s paw than a fairy godmother situation, though. She’s been way more trouble than she’s worth and even saying that much is a m-massive understatement.”
Komaru laid her hand gently over Toko’s. It drew her back to the present, a present far from that dark cupboard, a present where Komaru was so serious, yet still so gentle.
“I don’t know much about all that stuff. But I think it makes sense. Anyone would break in a situation like that. Anyone would’ve wanted a friend.” Komaru shook her head, “I don’t think you were stupid or cowardly. You were just a kid, and they shouldn’t have done that to you. You were just a kid.” Komaru’s expression creased to something painful. She took a moment, then managed a smile, a genuine one, even with sadness still marking the corners, “And now, you don’t just have one friend to help you through the dark. You have me too.” Komaru squeezed her hand, “You both do.”
Her words gutted her, like as if, as well as the water, her innards were spilling across the pitted tiles at the side of the pool. Once more, she felt herself standing in that murky, stormy sea, the waves violent and crashing in sprays of foamy white. Despite its veracity, Toko’s feet stood firm in the sand pulling and pushing under the wave’s commands. The water had risen to her throat, her shoulders submerged.
She felt the water now filling her up, choking her with something that made her wobble, made her bite the inside of her lip and brace herself to keep whatever was inside from overflowing out. She had a distinct feeling that if she let it out, she wouldn’t be able to stop. A stupid little kid, chronic with crying all over again.
Komaru waited with her, her hand still covering hers, warm and heavy, it kept her buoyed in the turbulence of her emotions. She didn’t say a thing, just smiled, sad and full of something Toko hadn’t seen before in the eyes of someone looking at her.
Toko swallowed against the emotion, pushed it down. It was only because she was so practised at it that she managed it.
“D-Do they have a class in your school for t-teaching you ch-cheesy one-liners or something?” despite all her pushing, her voice still came out thick with it. It was so obvious, she may as well have not bothered. What she revealed she was hiding in her voice was nearly as embarrassing as if she’d just let it all out in the first place.
But Komaru didn’t push her and didn’t shame her. With a smile that was all teeth and the apples of her cheeks she said, “Nope! They’re all me.”
Toko hated that she laughed. Or, at least, she wanted to hate that she laughed. Really, there was not an inch of hate in the warm glow that bloomed in her chest. She lifted her hand from Komaru’s and tangled their fingers together, and when Komaru squeezed her hand again, held her hand tighter, Toko felt warm despite the winter.
“W-Why the hell are we at my school’s p-pool anyway?”
“...I, uh.” Komaru laughed weakly, “It’s kind of funny actually. I was too scared of the thunder to stay outside. Um, she brought me here to help me.”
Toko stared at her, completely dumbfounded, “...Help you?” Komaru made no move to correct her, and Toko was more confused than ever, “S-She doesn’t help people, ‘Omaru. S-She hardly even h-helps me anymore.”
Komaru shrugged lightly and said simply, “She saved me.”
Komaru either wasn’t listening or just didn’t care to understand. It had to be one of those, because there was no way it was as simple as she was making it out to be. There had to be a misunderstanding, a layer of malice or violence that Komaru had glossed over or had gone over her head. It was just another confusing conundrum on top of everything else that she’d been forced to deal with since being shoved into consciousness again.
She decided instead to focus on more pressing matters. Komaru wasn’t hurt, and she definitely wasn’t dying, but that didn’t mean she was alright,
“W-Why the hell did you c-come out here if you were s-scared?”
Komaru gave her a strange look before understanding took over, “You don’t remember what happens when she’s around, right?”
“I t-thought t-that would be p-pretty obvious!”
Komaru giggled, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” she sighed. It wasn’t tired or frustrated. Instead, it was almost like she was relaxing, “I didn’t know it was going to storm. I didn’t even think to check the weather.” Komaru looked at her, and if the look hadn’t frozen her, she would’ve looked away. She continued softly, “You needed me. Even if I knew it was going to storm, I don’t think it would’ve changed anything.” Komaru stopped, thought for a moment, then huffed a laugh, “Well, maybe I would’ve brought a jacket.”
Toko didn’t know what to do with that. What the hell was she supposed to do with something like that? That type of thing wasn’t supposed to be said to someone like her, not without something else behind it, a nasty surprise, a snake weaving in the flowers. But as it always was with Komaru, there was nothing there but the truth in her words. More than that, she knew Komaru, and she knew she meant it.
Toko stared out across the slowly rippling pool water and watched the separators bob. She had to. If she didn’t, she’d keep looking at Komaru, and if she kept looking at Komaru, she was scared Komaru might see something that she hadn’t seen in her before and suddenly realise she’d been wrong about her all along. She would realise that Toko had somehow tricked her into caring for her, and she’d take it all back. That scared her more than anything.
Even more than the water.
“It’s a shame you’re so afraid of the water. This was actually kind of fun.” Komaru got to her feet, or she assumed she did from the sound of it. Toko wasn’t paying attention. Behind her Komaru shivered audibly, “Let’s try and find some towels in the changing rooms-T-Toko?!”
Caught, right at the wrong moment. It startled her enough that she dunked her foot into the pool a lot quicker than she’d wanted, and suddenly she was slipping into the water with an undignified squeal.
It rushed up to her waist, and Toko scrambled to grab the edge of the pool, hauling as much of her body up onto it as she could to keep herself from sinking. She closed her eyes tight, breathing already completely out of her control. Komaru ran to her,
“D-Did you change again?!”
“S-Shut the fuck up!” Toko’s yelling echoed back at her, and she flinched, “S-s-sorry. I-I d-d-didn’t mean-” Toko growled, frustrated at herself, taking it out on Komaru, and then only getting more frustrated at herself because of that. She breathed deep, it stopped her hyperventilating, but then she wasn’t sure how to start breathing again, “Y-yes-No! Ugh, it's m-me!” She said tightly, “F-F-Fuck!”
“Then why the hell are you getting back in the water?!”
It was the meanest thought she’d had towards Komaru in a while, but Toko really wished she’d just shut her fat fucking mouth. The only thing that stopped her from shouting at her was being so scared she couldn’t breathe well enough to do it. Her arms were getting tired, and she was starting to realise how the position she was in was at odds with what she was trying to do. So, even though it was the last thing she wanted, she slowly let go of the wall and lowered herself into the water.
There were a few false starts. Despite how much her arms were aching, they were too stiff to listen to her. She told herself she’d let go, and her body would betray her, gripping tighter onto the wall. The third time was the charm, a slight give all she needed to slowly do the stupidest thing she’d ever done and lower herself into the pool until her feet touched the floor. Toko held her hands stiffly in the air, like somehow having less of herself in the water would make it less scary. It didn’t help, or if it did, she couldn’t tell over the rush of adrenaline and the way her heart pounded hard enough to make her feel sick. Everything inside her head screamed. Every nerve in her body wincing and cringing with a need to get out, get out, get out. She was breathing like she could somehow prepare for when she’d have to stop, and history told her she would. She’d closed her eyes again, tight. Tight until all she could see was dark, and she focused on that instead to maybe convince herself to be scared of the dark behind her eyes instead of the water, lukewarm and lapping as it flooded around her and into every crevice of her body.
“Toko…” Komaru stared at her scared and dumbfounded from the edge of the pool.
Toko breathed in and out mechanically. Forcing against every natural reaction in her body to make her breathing normal. It was still too fast and too shallow, but it was better than before. She held a breath, counted, then let it out much too quickly. She tightened her hands into fists,
“I-If y-you f-f-f-faced y-your f-f-f-fears for me t-tonight t-then-” Toko swallowed audibly, more of a gulp than a swallow, and took a heaving wet breath that she tried to make steady and failed, “T-Then s-s-s-so c-can I-I.”
“Th-This-This is not the same at all!” Komaru exclaimed, totally horrified, “Please, don’t-”
“D-Don’t treat me like some s-stupid, s-scared k-kid!” Toko snapped, her voice louder and more powerful than she thought she could make it right now, her anger reverberating off the high metal ceilings and brick walls of the natatorium. “I-I know what I’m d-doing.” Komaru was entirely at a loss with what to do, that much was obvious. The way she was twitching, her eyes flickering around the room, it was like she knew she needed to do something but didn’t know what. Even with everything on high alert inside her, Toko still found the room to help her, “N-Now are you coming b-back in the w-w-water or a-am I going to have a p-p-panic attack for n-no reason?!”
Komaru shook her head before smacking her hands to her forehead, “You’re so stubborn! Seriously, Toko, I-” Komaru breathed in, held her breath, then flung her hands up in firm and mulish defeat, “Fine. Fine! Whatever.”
Komaru getting in the pool made her whimper as the water lapped against her, creeping millimetres further up her torso. She focused on Komaru, on breathing in as normal a way she could manage, on everything but how the water felt as it moved against her.
“Are you happy now?!” Komaru snapped, gesturing to herself and around her.
“F–F-Fucking e-es-est-tatic, c-c-can’t you t-t-tell?”
“Yes, you’ve proved your point. Now come on, stop being so stupid-”
“No!” Toko yelled. She groaned loudly with despair, “Y-You d-d-don’t get it at a-a-all, d-do you?!”
Komaru weakened, “I just-”
“‘O-Omaru. D-Do you t-t–t-rust m-me?”
Komaru was taken aback by the question, “Of course, but-”
“Then just-” Toko sighed harshly and flung her hands out, “L-Lets just have fun in this stupid f-fucking p-p-p-pool.” Toko relaxed, or maybe it was more like giving in, pulling back and finding the space of mind enough to cut Komaru some slack, “W-We’ve a-already b-b-broken in. W-W-W-We may as well m-m-make the m-most of it.”
It took a moment of contemplation. Then, Komaru gave in too, “Alright.”
But then, once there was nothing to argue about, there was nothing left to do. Suddenly, all the fear Toko had managed to distract herself from by being angry at Komaru flooded back, and she started to lose sight on why the fuck she’d done any of this in the first place. Komaru’s words were sweet like honey in her brain, whispering that she’d proved her point well enough, that she could get out and they could leave-
Hands grabbing her arms shocked her out of her thinking. She only realised she’d closed her eyes again when she had to open them to see Komaru standing in front of her.
“Hey,” Komaru said softly, an awkwardly apologetic smile on her face. She rubbed her thumb against her arm in soothing strokes, just like before, just like when they were on land, “You’re gonna be okay.”
With everything going on, there should be no reason Toko should believe her. Innately, she shouldn’t believe her. But no one had ever told her that like that before, like it wasn’t just to brush her problems aside so they wouldn’t have to deal with someone with emotions as big as hers, with a life so fucked up and crooked no amount of fixing would ever put it right again. No one had whispered it like a promise, like they believed it. So Toko couldn’t help but start to believe it too.
“What are you thinking?” Komaru asked gently, patiently.
Toko took a breath, “I-I’m g-gonna drown.” her eyes snapped closed, like somehow her saying it would make it more real, “T-The w-water- I-I’m g-going to go u-u-under and I--I won’t be able to get back up! I-I can’t swim-I-”
In any other situation, Toko may have found Komaru’s hushing and coo-ing patronising. Now, she bent to it, desperate for anything to help her like a newly strayed cat curling into the hand of the first stranger to call out to it because it wasn’t smart enough yet to know they could hurt it.
“Toko.” Toko nodded to show she’d heard her, but Komaru insisted on something, so she opened her eyes and found Komaru staring at her, “Do you trust me?”
Her own words thrown back at her should not have been so impactful.
But of course Komaru would trust her, because Komaru had never had any reason not to trust someone before. Komaru gave out her trust stupidly, like she had plenty to spare and never like she thought for a second someone would do something to break it. She gave it so easily that she’d even given it to someone like her.
Toko wasn’t the same. Toko had never known what that felt like. Every time Toko had been blinded enough to give her trust to someone she’d ended up hurt. Yet still, she kept sticking her hand in the mouth of the beast and was shocked when she was bitten.
But Komaru was no beast, and no one had ever asked before. No, perhaps instead of giving it willingly, her trust had always been ripped from her, way back before she’d even known what it meant to give it away.
So Toko nodded, because she felt too weak to say it.
Komaru smiled, a pretty, warm thing that Toko wanted to be wrapped in, “Then there's no need to be scared. I’m here, and I won't let that happen to you. I promise.”
“Okay…Okay.”
Breathing was easier. Now she was breathing again, she realised how lightheaded she’d been. With her breath filling her chest and her head sitting more firmly on her shoulders, Toko felt calmer. She breathed in, held it, and focused on the water around her, not pulling or pushing or insisting, just there. Existing around her, neutral in its movements, supporting her weight but giving every space to move when she wanted. It was lukewarm and the pressure was strange, and that was a bit uncomfortable, but it wasn’t a threat. It was just different.
The space of mind the relative calmness gave her was enough to make Toko suddenly cognizant of other particulars of her situation. Namely, Komaru, and the fact that somehow, without her realising it, she had gotten close to her, and perhaps that closeness stretched a lot further than the physical. So many things Toko had told Komaru that she’d never told anyone else before, not even her diary. Yet here Komaru stood, less than an arm's length away, slowly stroking her arm with her thumb, with nothing standing between them but the water and the chlorine rich air. Now, there were hardly even clothes separating them, Komaru’s matching underwear made her feel insecure, but it wasn’t just that. There was something else too that, now that she’d managed to calm down, drew her eyes to Komaru in a way she wasn’t used to, like her default was staring at her, at her collarbones, at the smooth curve of her shoulders, at her chest. Toko didn’t understand it or what it made her feel; all she knew was it was embarrassing. Now, in a cruel twist of irony, looking at the water was somehow easier.
It was strange, despite the fact she’d managed to calm herself down to something not on the edge of a panic attack, her heart was racing all the same. And every time she acknowledged how close Komaru was, it only got worse. The most confusing bit of it all was that she didn’t want it to stop. The feeling was different to fear, but just as intimidating. She deflected away from it,
“W-Why the hell are you suddenly calling me by my first name a-anyway…” Toko mumbled, her glare accusatory. Komaru was caught out if the way she reacted, all red cheeked and wide eyed, was anything to go by.
“Ah- Sorry…” Komaru looked askant, her hand sliding down her arm and her touch getting lighter, “I kind of did it without noticing, then, I don’t know…I liked it? It just felt right.” Komaru’s awkward smile dropped, “Should I stop?”
Toko was quick to look away, “N-No…” Komaru giggled happily, and it only made Toko blush harder. She tried to repress the smile on her face, her grin wobbling as she said sleazily, “I-I suppose it only makes sense, n-now you’ve seen me n-naked…”
“It’s not like you ever asked to start calling me Komaru- Sorry, no, more like ‘Omaru. Dekomaru-ah!”
Komaru gasped, shocked and humorously indignant, as Toko smacked a splattering of pool water into her face,
“Sh-Shut up…” Toko said through a sneaky, shaky smirk.
Komaru huffed and tried to pout but it was mostly a smile. Then, after a second of thought, Komaru smacked the water in front of her. A small spattering of droplets hit Toko, she gasped and winced at the feeling of it. When she managed to relax and open her eyes again, she saw Komaru, smiling tentatively at her, a question in her expression that asked ‘Is that okay? Was that too much? How far do you want to be pushed?’
Perhaps if it was anyone but Komaru, the answer would be different. But now, Toko found her smile growing, and she splashed Komaru back.
The fight started slow, a tentative, unsure back and forth. Most of the hesitation was on Komaru’s part, a small break between each push that gave Toko just enough room to breathe, to re-centre, to remind herself that despite how this had been in the past, this, right now, was safe. But still, Komaru didn’t baby her, and the worse that Toko gave, Komaru only met her there. They fought and played for long enough that Toko hardly even thought of the water, of her fear, of everything that had come before her. All she had was now.
“All good?” Komaru asked in a moment where they were both catching their breath.
“Y-Yeah, why?”
“You’re in deep.” Komaru said. Toko’s expression portrayed her confusion, and Komaru nodded for her to look down. When she did, she saw herself, her body, imperfect and morphing into something worse in the water, water that reached now nearly up to her shoulders. She hadn’t even noticed. Here she stood, in a deeper pool of water than she’d probably ever been in, and she hadn’t even noticed. More than that, Toko wasn’t even scared. Anxious, definitely. There was a horrid spike like a jump scare in a movie when she noticed, but it simmered now, and Toko found that even with the anxiety tightening her stomach, she was okay.
“Y-yeah, I guess I am.”
Komaru got a look in her eye that made Toko’s anxiety spike for an entirely different reason. “Dare you to dunk your head under the water.” she said through a growing grin.
“W-What?!”
“I triple-donkey-dare you to dunk your head!”
“T-Triple d-d-donkey-” Toko shook her head, “W-What the hell are you even saying right now?!”
Suddenly Komaru was in front of her, close enough to make Toko’s heart skip a beat again. Close enough that her instinct was to shy away. Komaru grabbed her hand, and held it in both hands above the water,
“I won’t let you drown, I promise! I believe in you, I know you can do it!”
The worst thing about it all was that Toko was actually considering it. Komaru was so bright it must’ve stunned her, her raw enthusiasm must’ve knocked her sideways and scrambled her brain, or maybe it was the liquor from earlier, chugged from her grandfather’s flask and giving her just enough Dutch courage that somehow, she was actually, genuinely considering it.
Maybe it was a combination of all three. Whatever it was, it was once in a lifetime. Toko gave Komaru her glasses, held her nose, closed her eyes, and as she gripped Komaru’s hand tight enough to hurt, she dropped herself under the water-
(a rush of water past her ears, the dulling of a vacuum, a strange, oppressive quiet that pushed into her and stretched out beyond her, like the world was muffled with a cotton gag around its mouth; it made her heartbeat in her head pound like a drum as she was suddenly rendered weightless)
-and immediately pulled herself right back up.
Komaru laughed and clapped and cheered at her resurfacing. She held their hands in the air together, forcing Toko to participate in her celebrations. Toko took one of her hands away from Komaru so she could wipe the water from her face and push her fringe from where it hung heavy and wet in her eyes. It was wholly and completely embarrassing, but at the same time, she really didn’t want Komaru to stop smiling like that, especially if it was because of her.
Komaru let go of her hands, but only so she could push Toko’s glasses gently back onto her nose. Toko had thought that would be the end of it. But Komaru didn’t move back, Komaru held her, cupping her hands against her jaw and holding her softly. Suddenly, Toko was breathless again, and it had nothing to do with the water.
“You’re such an inspiration to me, Toko.” Komaru whispered. Her tone set Toko’s face aflame, made her feel sweaty and incompetent and wrong,
“M-My w-writing?” she stuttered stupidly.
“No, silly.” Komaru giggled, “You.”
Toko knew that. It just felt nice to hear, to know she wasn’t jumping the gun yet again. Heart over her head, she was struggling to think rationally about any of this, that much was obvious with everything she’d done since she’d been on that rooftop of that restaurant what now felt like a lifetime ago.
Komaru’s hands were so soft against her face, Toko felt like scum for allowing her to keep touching her like this, because she didn’t deserve it and Komaru just hadn’t realised that yet. It was too caring, too full of things that Toko had never thought she deserved but had always longed for. But Toko had always been selfish. She had to be to survive. And Toko didn’t want her to stop holding her like she was something worth treating gently. Komaru stepped closer, and her voice was so soft, Toko could’ve lost it over the noise of the water dripping and lapping and the constantly humming filter. But she didn’t. Everything else fell to the side.
“I know I don’t have my brother’s luck,” Komaru whispered, “But still, I can’t help but feel so lucky to have met you, Toko.”
The confirmation changed something in her, and with everything else Komaru had said to her, all the things she wasn’t deserving of hearing, something about this was different. Maybe it was because Komaru had seen her again and again at her most disgusting, in her weakest and most pathetic state. Had seen her skin peeled back and witnessed the rotten and grotesque truth that festered in her centre and still held her this easily. The strength of will it must take to face a monster and not only stare back unflinching but open your arms and call it forwards – it only confirmed something Toko had known from the very beginning. Komaru was a fool. She wasn’t the lucky one between the two of them.
Standing in that vast ocean, with the water crashing around her, up to her chin. She could keep standing here, keep breathing, keep fighting against a torrent of waves that threatened to overcome her, but she’d only be delaying the inevitable. Now, the only way was under.
So, she held her breath, closed her eyes, gave herself over to the waves completely, and kissed Komaru.
In the end, it was simple. Komaru’s lips against hers, wet with nothing but pool water. But what it made Toko feel was not so simple. Toko kissed Komaru and felt a rush within her. Her heartbeat pounded heavy like a drum, the world disappeared around them, muted and dulled apart from the two of them, glowing light and brilliant and the only things worth knowing in the entire world. She would swear that Komaru held all of her in the palm of her hands, right where she cupped her hands against her jaw to hold her close. Toko kissed Komaru and knew a silence within her that she’d never known before, one that draped over her like a warm blanket.
Then, it was gone. She pulled back and let out a breath like it was her first, from the deepest bottom of her lungs. She watched Komaru’s eyes flutter, watched her eyelashes butterfly kiss her cheeks before they opened again. Toko swore her eyes had never been as green as they were now reflecting all the colours of the pool water. It was only a second, maybe two. To Toko, she felt hung within infinity. Then, Komaru leaned in, and Toko, heart and head completely in sync, leaned forwards to meet her halfway.
It was different now it was reciprocal, the both of them just as invested, just as curious. Komaru kissed her cupid’s bow, Toko returned the favour, then shifted and kissed Komaru’s bottom lip too, and when Komaru gasped, a quiet thing that was hardly more than a breath, Toko felt iridescent. Komaru fuelled her flame, kissing her longer, brushing her thumb against her cheek as if to soothe her, as if to say ‘I’m right here, don’t worry, I’ve got you.’ Then Komaru shifted and kissed her on her chin, right on her mole, and Toko felt like sobbing. The weakness made her want to fall to her knees at Komaru’s feet and beg for a forgiveness she’d already granted her. It made her itch to hold her properly, to be held in return. And though Komaru showed no signs of letting go, the fear of it struck her all the same.
Delicately, like maybe if she did it slowly enough, Komaru wouldn’t notice, Toko raised her hands from the water and brushed them along Komaru’s arms. Komaru shivered under her touch, held her face firmer, and something about it made Toko desperate. She grabbed onto Komaru’s arms tightly, sure that if her nails weren’t bitten to their beds, she would’ve hurt her, but Komaru didn’t seem to mind. Water dripped from her chin, her hands, her hair, droplets falling into the water around them, and Toko knew she tasted of pool water because she could taste it on Komaru’s lips too.
Toko had never felt like this before. In a lifetime of feeling wrong, of feeling misplaced and awkward, sitting amongst others with all the grace of an extra tooth pushing out into an already full mouth, Toko finally felt like she was right where she was supposed to be. Now, joined like this with Komaru, Toko felt less like a tooth growing out of place and more like a star finally aligning to finish a large and brilliant constellation.
‘All those months of scheming’, Toko thought distantly, ‘And kissing Komaru was as easy as this.’
As quick as it was lined up, bright and brilliant in the sky, her star blacked out and died.
Nausea dumped into her stomach. It wasn’t an original feeling. It was the type of nausea she’d usually have to follow up with washing blood from her hands, still warm from the kill. There was no blood now, but somehow, that felt worse. Having Komaru stare at her, red cheeked and eyes glassy and gorgeous and filled with a natural innocence was so much worse.
The need to breathe overtook her and suddenly staying under wasn’t an option, no matter how quiet and safe and right it felt suspended as she was. She ripped herself out of the water’s comforting hold back to the surface, back to riptide and crashing waves and the uncontrollable, unpredictable pushing and pulling she’d been fighting against her entire life.
Toko really was a monster through and through, because she’d seen Komaru, pure as light and genuine as gold, open her arms to her and Toko had rushed forwards time and time again knowing full well she was biding her time before she could bite and tear and ruin her, just as everyone had done to her in the past.
“Toko…” Komaru was starting to worry. Toko had never hated herself more. “What’s-”
Toko pulled back. Komaru’s touch left her, “I-I have to go.” she swallowed, her throat so thick with regret she could hardly speak, “I can’t do this.”
Toko pushed through the water to the side of the pool and pulled herself out.
“W-Wait! Toko, please-”
Komaru grabbed her arm, Toko ripped it away and pretended she didn’t hear Komaru gasp and pretended that she didn’t hear her heart break in the sound of it.
Komaru called after her as she ran. She tried to follow her, tried to catch up, Toko didn’t let her. She grabbed her dress, nearly too heavy to carry, and didn’t even stop to put it back on. She flung open the door of the natatorium and ran back into the rain with Komaru’s voice echoing out the door after her.
Notes:
it just hit me i started this by saying i'm probably going to take months to update this then left you guys on a cliffhanger.
oops!
So sorry to that one commenter that wanted Tokomaru to get kissmogged by komahina at prom (but hold that thought :3c ) .
Ahh...i really hope you all enjoyed this...such a pivotal moment in the story. and i had to have it in a pool. Lesbians always have The Pool Scene in fiction. I needed Tokomaru to have a Pool Scene too. I remember working at starbucks and envisioning this scene so vividly. i was so excited to write it, i really wanted to do it justice, which also is probably why it took a little longer than maybe it could have (lots of pressure!!! ahh!!!) i hope it hits for you guys ;u;
see u next time ! stay well and BE HAPPY!!
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