"Game room?"

"But of course. Though games may seem unproductive, they are invaluable to training and maintaining mental and physical strength. A Togami must always be at their highest potential," he explains. His posture is perfect; his spine is straight and his chest is mildly puffed in pride. It would be slightly intimidating if not for the soft smile parting his lips.

"Who do you even p-play against?" I inquire. I've never had particularly good posture, so I try to imitate his. I was invited to his home, after all, a massive honor. The least I can do is be as proper as possible.

"Ah, well. As a child, I'd play against some of my highest-ranking maids or children of other affluent families. Eventually, I came to play against competitive players. No world champions or grandmasters or anything. I could have, if I wanted to pursue those things. But I preferred day trading and cold cases. Also... I would occasionally play with the head of the house."

"Y-You mean your father?"

"That man... was not exactly what one would call a father. In the strictest of terms, yes, that is what I mean. But from what I have heard about the common folk, what I had was not normal. I was more like... a distant protege to him, I suppose." His countenance becomes stoic, perhaps the slightest bit cold.

"I see. Then I s-suppose we both grew up fatherless," I remind him in an attempt to be comforting. Our footsteps on the tile echo through the hall.

"That reminds me. Have you heard anything from the Warriors of Hope?"

"A little, yes. Kotoko and Jataro w-write a bunch of s-screenplays together for their high school's drama club. Masuru is the star of the t-track team. And N-Nagisa's doing great in school on his own terms. He's t-top of his class, but he says he wouldn't mind if he dropped a couple p-places. They're all still getting therapy, which is a relief."

"It seems everyone is doing better these days."

"Life is better," I concur.

"Life is better," he repeats. He opens the door to the game room silently, and starts to set out pieces for Othello. Before we've made three moves, however, the unexpected happens. There's a loud banging on the window. "Stay back, Eiko. Stand by the door and be ready to run in case anything dangerous happens," he commands forcefully. I inch my way over to the door while he goes to investigate the abnormal occurrence. "What the hell?! What's going on here?!" he shouts instantly, prying open the window swiftly and effortlessly.

Yasuhiro stumbles in, covered in dirt and with possibly hundreds of leaves in his hair. He's panting as he shuts it behind him. "H-How did you even get up here?! This is the second story, and as far as I know, there's n-no ladder or anything!" I ask, bewildered out of my goddamn mind. Jill literally used to TRY to get in here.

"It doesn't matter how I did it, I just need you guys to save me!" he begs.

"Save you from what?! What are you doing in my house?!"

"Water," he insists, sounding parched.

Byakuya's eyes narrow. "Fine. Eiko, stay here and make sure he doesn't go anywhere."

"Yes sir!"

Hiro looks around a bit, dazed. "Wait, you're the only one here? Was I interrupting something?" He coughs a bit.

"I-If by something, you mean p-playing g—"

"You were playing with each other?! Holy shit, I DID interrupt something! But wait, how did—"

"No! Nonono, we were playing Othello! But I mean..." I giggle manically, unable to stop myself from doing so.

"Sorry. I'd leave you to yourselves," he rasps, "but I just lost em and I can't risk going out now."

Byakuya comes back into the room and throws a water bottle. It bonks Yasuhiro on the head as he tries and fails to catch it. Byakuya grimaces. "Sorry. I expected you to react in time."

"Tired. And not as young as I used to be," he groans in response. He cracks open the bottle and downs like half of it in a split second.

"But you can still romp through the wilderness? What are you even doing, old man?" Byakuya teases lightly in response.

"This middle-aged rich lady came begging for a fortune. I TOLD her that my accuracy rate is 30%, and she consented to my terms, but when she took action based on my fortune and it was wrong, she sent her goons after me! They've been, like, following me for a couple days! No matter where I go, I could feeeel them! And then last night, they started actively chasing me, so I had to do whatever I could to lose 'em! Masked my scent, covered myself to blend in, the whole shebang!" he exclaims emphatically, slamming his hand on the ground. Byakuya cringes yet again; he's literally covered in dirt and he's getting it all over the carpet.

"You said she was a rich lady? She probably doesn't even know what rich means. Fear no longer. If she or her goons approach, their pursuit will be terminated here." He flips his blonde hair majestically, and I have to stop myself from quivering. Byakuya's always had a flair for the dramatic. Then his other signature move comes into play. Deadpan bluntness. "Now go take a shower, you smell like an actual rat."

Hiro springs up and runs out of the room. He quickly pops his head back in. "Where's the bathroom?"

"Closest one is across the hall, the third door on your right," he dismisses. As soon as Hiro's gone, he flashes me an expression of mild panic.

"D-Don't look at me like that. What's wrong?"

"I think I answered too confidently. For all I know, she really COULD be as rich as I am. I may not have enough power and money to use as leverage. Honestly, I'm not sure I can get him out of this."

"Then why did you say what you did?" I ask, nearly biting my nail but then catching myself.

"...My pride, of course. I've been trying to get better, but my foolish, baseless pride is my defect. I am defective," he murmurs, clutching at his head.

I waver, but I force myself to set a hand on his further shoulder. I never thought I'd see the day where Byakuya Togami trembles. But I can feel it, softly, under the delicate, textured fabric. The smallest of motions, like the slightest of breezes. "I... you don't have to w-worry anymore. Now that your family is us instead of them, you don't have to p-push so hard. Let ME handle it; as an author, I can think of inventive and intelligent plans. In theory, at least."

I move to take my hand away, but he shifts to keep it there. Goosebumps dance through my entire body. I try to think through my fluster as he keeps my arm wrapped around him. C'mon, Eiko, if you can do one thing right, it should be this. "Leverage. You mentioned l-leverage. Your leverage as a Togami might be l-lower than it once was... but what about our leverage as former Future Foundation Members?!" I realize, jumping to my feet. "Especially if we get Makoto! He DID defeat Junko Enoshima, after all! And even if there are people who don't recognize Hiro, they will absolutely know Makoto. They can't deny him!"

He looks up at me with those piercing blue eyes and takes deep breaths. "You're right. That's a smart plan. I'll send him the address. Hiro can... ugh, as much as I hate to do this... he can stay until it either comes to a head or blows over. I was hoping he'd mellow with age, but he's just too unpredictable."

"Unpredictability can be n-nice, though. Keeps us on our toes. Keeps us honest."

"Honest. I suppose you're correct. Give me a moment, please, so I can call Makoto."

"You d-don't mean to steal the credit for the plan, do you?" I tease.

"A Togami doesn't formulate commoners' plans. I don't intend to disguise your thought process as my own. Obviously." He rolls his eyes playfully.

"Then allow me to t-take my leave, for now. Where shall I go?"

"Across the hall, eighth door on your left. Choose one."

"Huh?"

"You'll know when you get there."

I rise up and walk to the room he instructed me to visit. When I open the door, I see racks upon racks of clothing, for both males and females.

The fabric choices are varied, but all are luxurious beyond anything I've ever felt before. They even SOUND pleasant. They smell dusty, like a good old book, and there are so many options that my head starts to spin. After spending way too much deliberating, I'm approached by someone giving me a hug from behind. It's not Byakuya; it's a different feeling.

"Why hello there, Big Mac! How are you today?"

"Great! Had another date with Kyoko and it was really nice! And now I get to help Hiro out of a bind!" he exclaims. But then he hesitates before telling me, "I will admit that it makes me nervous having to flaunt the 'defeating Junko' thing. I never wanted to be famous. And I certainly didn't expect that I'd ever be looking at suits in a mansion."

"Don't worry. You may be f-famous, but we're the only ones who know how d-dorky you REALLY are! They may know your face. But you're still just... a member of Class 78. One of us. One of us! One of US!"

He starts to laugh, grabbing my hand. "Thanks, Eiko. We can help each other pick!" Eventually, we manage to figure out what we want to wear. Makoto found a turquoise tie to wear with a grey suit, and I found this long, hunter green evening gown with a modest slit. I braid my hair and keep my glasses on; I figure people recognize me best that way.

Byakuya finally comes strolling in. "Ah, I see. Not bad picks. Yes, not bad at all. Perhaps more colorful than I expected, but I can work with that," he acknowledges. He navigates the place like he has encyclopedic knowledge of it, heading exactly where he intends to. He selects a textured black suit and immediately snatches up a tie that matches my dress. He wanted to match! With me! Ughhhhh, I gotta stop getting flustered by every little thing!

Honestly, I'm confused why we have to wear super formal clothes anyway, but if Byakuya wants me to wear a dress, I'll wear a freaking dress. Maybe he thinks it'd impress that lady? Or intimidate her or something? Or maybe he just doesn't want rats like us in his house. It doesn't really matter to me!

Lastly, Hiro comes, with hair even poofier than normal due to the blow dryer. He wears his suit casually: legs rolled up, arms not even through the jacket sleeves, tie a little loose. "Dude, this feels nostalgic now! We had to look all professional for the Future Foundation!" he marvels, admiring himself.

"You've never looked professional a day in your life," Byakuya snarks immediately.

"Don't be mean! Aren't you trying to save my butt over here?"

"Doesn't mean I can't have a little fun on the ride."

We make our way to the front entrance, and I start to feel nervous. "You out there! The ones pursuing the clairvoyant. I may not be able to see you, but I know you're there. All I'd need to do to find you is check the surveillance cameras. Reveal yourself at once, or I'll sue you for trespassing," Byakuya demands. I start to shake a little bit. Makoto sets a hand on my back and Byakuya grabs my hand to soothe me.

In a flash, they're suddenly in front of us. Four of them. Muscular dudes with clenched fists that remind me of like... more genuinely scary versions of Mondo. "Step aside. We need our target," the leader pipes up.

"We will do n-no such th-thing!" I remark, trying to come across as firm despite my fear.

"And who are you to get in our way?"

A different one immediately cuts him off. "Shut up. These guys are important. Former Future Foundation members."

"Really?"

"Yes. We are survivors of Junko Enoshima's killing game. All four of us were members of Branch 14. Ei— Toko over here was vital to stopping the Warriors of Hope in Towa city," Byakuya mentions. He gives me an apologetic glance before continuing. "I myself was Division head along with Kyoko Kirigiri. And yes, you heard correctly. This man— your target— was a member of Future Foundation," he explains with an air of lethality.

"B-But, our mistress told us we HAD to beat him to a pulp!"

"Is it possible to video call her?" Makoto asks, the only one among us trying to be civil.

They comply. A croaky feminine voice erupts from the phone. "So? Is the job done? I cannot BELIEVE he thinks he could ruin my chance to reunite with my ex-husband with his faulty predictions and get away with it!"

"Madam, we ran into complications," one of the goons says as we look in utter bewilderment at our friend. Hiro can only offer up a shrug and a nervous chuckle.

"What complications?" she asks with a venomous tone.

Makoto takes the phone. I steal a glance. It's a doughy, aging face. "Hello! Uh... Yasuhiro's one of us."

A hideously dramatic gasp sounds out. Hiro winces at the sound. "You mean to tell me that this swindler is associated with THE Makoto Naegi?" Hiro starts to make noises of complaint, but Byakuya immediately intimidates him into stopping.

"Not just associated, Miss. He's a dear friend. Plus, he's always upfront about his success rates. I'm sorry if you had a bad experience, but sending people to assault him is simply unacceptable," Makoto continues, using the same tired voice that he uses when talking to his students' troublesome parents. I'm amazed at how relaxed he is about this.

"I apologize for the inconvenience, Sir! I do so regret that it came to this. Men, withdraw at once!" she orders. They bow to us and run off.

"SUCK IT!" Hiro yells as soon as we're sure they're gone. Right on the spot, he starts to dance. Like, erratically. Like some sea creature that doesn't know where it's going. And it's fucking hilarious. The three of us back up to give him some room. Makoto starts recording it.

But Byakuya pulls me close. Talks in a low volume. "I'm sorry I had to use your dead name. I just knew they wouldn't recognize you as Eiko."

"That's okay. H-Hey, I have a question."

"Yes?"

"Wh-When did you start to care about stuff like that? When did you s-start to care about ME? And why?" Those words have been written on my heart for months now. Those searing questions.

"I'm sorry to make you wait. But if you could. Just for a little longer. I'd rather be alone when we talk about that."

"O-Okay. For now, let's j-just enjoy the show. Not everyday we see Yasuhiro dance like this!"

He wraps his arms around me from behind and we laugh and watch the unforgettable display. And just knowing that we'll talk about it soon puts me at ease.