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When people wanted to give the illusion they understood and cared, they referred to Touko’s behaviour as quirks. There was nothing wrong with quirks. Completely normal, quirks. Found in everyone. Doesn’t make you weirder than anyone else, dear. Don’t mind what the other children whisper as you’re cleaning away your lunch or retrieving your coat at the end of the day. They see everybody but themselves. If one substituted that ‘but’ for an ‘and’, they would notice their own quirks and not bother about yours.
Such enlightenment failed to improve matters.
At a young age, Touko asked the local librarian to obtain a dictionary from a high shelf. No, she didn’t want a picture book. She knew how to read. Yes, her parents were nearby. Once finished with the bombardment of questions, Touko clambered up a chair and prodded her glasses further up her nose. Then, after she wet her finger with her tongue, she flipped through the dictionary until she reached the page she wanted.
Quirk. Noun. A peculiar aspect of a person's character or behaviour.
A few pages before it-
Peculiar. Adjective. Different to what is normal or expected; strange.
And a few pages before that-
Normal. Noun. Conforming to a standard; usual, typical, or expected.
One ‘quirk’ of hers involved counting the number of people present in class. Odd or even number? Ratio of boys to girls? How many ways could she divide them into groups? How many of each friendship circle were present? Sometimes her peers noticed her lips twitch as she counted, and they heckled and mimicked and mocked while she tried to ignore them by collapsing into herself. But the teacher would force her out by instructing the class all collaborate with a certain number of students for some task, leaving Touko to wait for someone to feign pity or for the teacher to team her up with sneering faces.
Sneering because she wasn’t normal. Because she didn’t conform to what they expected. What they wanted. No one wanted the stuttering girl with a nose always wedged in a book containing a world that invited her in and hurt her in ways that were good and not like how real life hurt her. Whose clothes needed washing, hair needed brushing, whose everything needed loving, who didn’t run around and scream and play and laugh like kids should.
But it was okay because everyone had quirks.
They stuck instead of fading into childhood memories. She set off for Hope’s Peak with a suitcase of clothes and books and quirks.
Each time Touko entered the cafeteria or the gymnasium or the area behind the red door, she counted without fail. Touko counted the declining number of classacquaintances (not classmates- as if anyone present could be considered something as personal as a friend), standing in a corner where they wouldn’t notice and laugh at her quirks like everyone always had.
Byakuya’s absence from mealtimes, therefore, didn’t go unnoticed by her. She tried to avoid them as well but Touko occasionally walked into a room filled with laughter whenever she miscalculated her timing. Usually it never bothered her, Byakuya’s aversion to camaraderie. To tainted words like ‘trust’ and ‘friendship’ that ought to be utilised to one’s advantage rather than be enjoyed. After all, Byakuya’s apathy with their situation led her to his room with candy that day. And she would be lying if she claimed she didn’t understand his way of seeing the world.
It usually never bothered Touko, because now he seemed to be actively avoiding her now. Avoiding Syo made sense. But she wasn’t Syo. He didn’t need to hide in his bedroom or in the boys’ changing room. None of the others seemed to notice or they simply didn’t care. The fools. Who wanted their acknowledgement anyway? As if they were entitled to hers.
Only one person deserved her attention and she knew just how to give it.
Unlike everyone else, Byakuya must have deemed midnight a safe time to be out for Touko saw the glow of a desk lamp after she nudged the library door ajar. He sat at his preferred spot, book in one hand and mug of drink in the other. His pupils twitched as he read, mouth poised in concentration. The view was more than satisfying, but she couldn’t leave without any interaction. Not without giving him her attention and receiving his in return.
Oh, how his attention felt in return. His touch, so controlled yet powerful and never spurning her ugly body. How he drawled as articulation lost relevance in caresses and murmurs of degradation that he masterfully bestowed because he was perfect and handsome and oh-so-terrible. And her name... he said her name, her name, when he... he...!
Touko shook her head. Recollecting those glorious scenes could wait until usual, when shadows of monochrome objects danced into shapes of her mind’s creation across the ceiling until she fell asleep.
This, on the other hand, could not.
She made a beeline for the storage room and closed its door behind her. Touko wiped her back against the wooden surface and listened, her hands pressed against her heart.
His mug thud-thudded as he flipped to the next page. Then stillness.
He must have noticed her presence, someone as intelligent as him. And he hadn’t minded. Hopefully. No. Of course he hadn’t minded. If he minded, then her whole plan would fall to pieces and that couldn’t happen.
With phase one complete, Touko clasped the hem of her blouse and eyed the door.
“B-Byakuya-sama?” she called, his name echoing.
“... What is it?”
Still here. Good. Her blouse fluttered to the floor to be eaten by the darkness and her hands dropped to her waistband.
“I... can’t reach something.” She stepped out of her skirt. It twisted around her ankle, almost tripping her over. Her holster of scissors soon joined the piece of clothing. “Could you... get it for me? You are taller, after all...”
A groan. A creak. A thump. A scrape. Him, the chair, the book, the mug. Footsteps approached. Brisk. She breathed in and out, in and out, matching his pace until the door whined open and his palm brushed against the light switch.
“I’m certain there’s a stepladder in here, though how you hope to find anything with the lights off is beyond-” He flinched, last word forgotten.
Byakuya Togami stared. For five beautiful drawn-out seconds, his arm hung crooked with his fingertip balanced on the light switch. Sagging. Like the corners of his mouth. The only things not drooping were his raised eyebrows and unblinking eyes that read her like how he read a book.
Five beautiful drawn-out seconds.
Then he flicked the lights off.
“You’re wearing the same lingerie as last time,” Byakuya noted.
She fidgeted. “Y-Yes... I am.”
“You’re drooling.”
Touko licked at it.
“You’re almost naked,” he added.
“If that’s a problem, I c-can take off more...”
“You’re almost naked in the library’s storage room where anyone can just waltz in,” he clarified. Touko mentally matched his tone to the appropriate scowl, where he glared at her sidelong and folded his arms over his chest. “Honestly, do you have any sense in that brain of yours? First you assume I’m interested in... this, then you have the gall to strip and assume I’ll be happy with the arrangement.”
“It’s late.” She shuffled forward, honing in on his silhouette with the desk lamp’s faint light as its backdrop. “No one’s going to come here. We’re all alone... together... alone...”
Byakuya watched, his chin receding toward his neck. He gulped but didn’t stray from where he stood.
“That’s impossible here,” he said, shifting his right hand back so his fingertips were against the door. “I’m sure there’s a surveillance camera recording everything we’re- you’re doing.”
The door slammed shut.
Her vision useless, Touko misjudged their respective positions and bumped her knuckles against his chest. She withdrew slightly. Slightly because he chose to seal his only exit and stay, and she had felt the tiniest of shudders vibrate through him in that moment of physical contact.
Touko looked up to where she assumed his eyes were. “Th-There was one in your room... when we...!”
“That-!” Byakuya paused to stew over words. “I... got carried away. Back then. Besides. The mastermind stated he didn’t care what went on in the dormitories. We’re in the library.”
“Th-There’s no rule forbidding it...”
“You’re unusually stubborn tonight.” His fingers skimmed across her thigh, retreating so abruptly she almost dismissed it for her overactive imagination.
She inhaled, leg turned outwards. Where he touched still tingled.
“Is there a reason you chose here?” he finally asked. “You could have proposed this in my room. Or is this some kink of yours?”
“Do you... want to exchange kinks...?”
He snorted. Even unattractive noises sounded like music from him.
“That’s one of the only areas I want to remain ignorant in. But I assure you,” he dodged past her, “mine certainly isn’t ‘roll around on the floor in a dirty room’.”
Byakuya swiped his fingers across several book spines and brought his hand to his face, tutting as he rubbed his thumb against his other digits.
“There isn’t even a desk or a suitable alternative,” he said, wiping off dust with his trouser leg. “Your incompetency at thinking things through is extraordinarily pathetic. Clearly it’s a basic skill only Genocider Syo possesses. Why should I use my perfectly good suit as a feather duster when there are many sanitary places nearby we could go to?”
Touko turned her head. “Are you... m-maybe... then... considering...?”
Byakuya froze. “... Leave deducing to someone who has a knack for it.”
To return to her, he was forced to pick his way through boxes and books and folders scattered on the floor that he memorised the locations of during the many hours he spent browsing through them.
“Anything I said which you skewed for your little fantasy world is merely hypothetical and should be a rich learning experience. Be honoured.”
His footsteps ceased in front of her.
“Following on, hypothetically... what would you plan we do? I trust you’ve thought that far.”
Do. Do, do, do. Touko flexed her fingers, nails digging into her thighs. Lots of dos came to mind. Dos he would flat out refuse. Dos they already did. And dos she couldn’t foresee his response to until he responded which made them all the more exhilarating.
“E-Each,” she blushed, “other?”
He grabbed her shoulders with surprising force.
“That’s an option rather than a requirement?” His low voice sent a jolt through Touko that popped out of her mouth as a squeak. “Why, is there a third person I can choose instead?”
Byakuya’s cologne smelled of fresh leaves with a hint of citrus, the scent bursting and overwhelming all her senses. She wheezed. This wasn’t supposed to happen. His grip actually stung.
“Have you got our entire class at your beck and call in some kind of escort agency?” he asked. “Is that it?”
“N-No! Never! I’m yours, Byakuya-sama! Only yours!”
“Good,” his hot breath rumbled over her chilled lips, hold twisting around to her upper arms, “because I don’t like sharing.”
He leaned forward, hands trailing warmth down her skin before securing onto her waist. Their noses bumped and their glasses clacked. His lips landed on her cheek, sliding across her skin until their lips overlapped with her bottom one between his.
Kissing. Definitely kissing.
Touko moaned as he rolled her lip between his teeth. She raised her arms to hug his neck, burying her fingers in his hair. Time twirled in the blackness around them with her wiggling and coiling his silky blond locks until he pulled away.
It left her shaking. So different to his rigid posture broken only by the unsteady rise and fall of his chest.
He caressed her cheek with his knuckles. “How plebeian, stripping yourself and luring me here because you know a man such as me doesn’t have to settle for a thing like you when women around the globe would gladly birth me all the heirs I desire. But you always come running to me anyway, don’t you? Like the mongrel you are. You make it so easy. You’re lucky you caught me in a good mood.”
His fingers found her ear, scraping and tucking away the hair veiling it. How could someone be this perfect and handsome and oh-so-terrible? And so near and real?
Her thighs clamped together.
“Fukawa, are you getting off on this?” he asked, hands on her waist once more. His mouth spewed syllables at her naked skin. Syllables that evaporated against her heat. “Feh. Did something catch your tongue? No. Don’t bother answering.” He removed his glasses, inserting them into his jacket pocket before taking off hers. “I’ll find out myself.”
The next kiss almost knocked Touko over. Byakuya’s tongue ran rings against her lips until she granted it access inside.
Tongue-y. Very tongue-y. As tongue-y as the first tongue-y kiss in his room. But she didn’t care as long as it was his tongue flicking at her incredibly sensitive tongue, sharing the taste of black coffee he sipped only a little while before, and as long as it were his hands on her bra’s underwire. His thumbs teased her with strokes, under and out of the underwire again and again so it pinged repeatedly against her sensitive skin.
With him, nothing else mattered.
Just him with her in his mercy, she squirming and he almost robotic. Careful. Restrained. If only his touch would dive and swim across her breasts like how she wanted to dunk her hand into her panties as his knee lurked somewhere between her legs.
She hunted for the vertical opening of his shirt, arms aching with the desire quivering in her groin. Touko fumbled, unbuttoning it from the top until Byakuya grunted and plunged his fingers completely beneath her bra.
His heel shunted back. She slammed into him. Everything tilted forward until he smacked into the floor with her sprawled on top.
“Godfuckingshittingcrapfuckshitdammit,” Byakuya slurred. Then another ‘fuck’ for good measure as he propped himself up onto his elbow, his foot kicking at whatever attached itself to his shoe.
Touko winced at the throbbing in her jaw, clinging to him and bouncing with his leg.
“Was that your blouse I tripped on?” he asked. “Either that or it was your skirt. Be thankful you didn’t break any of my bones with your mess.”
“S-Sorry!” She rose, swaying. “I’ll... I’ll turn the lights-!”
“Don’t bother.” He yanked Touko back onto his lap. “Let’s... continue. And shut up while you’re at it. You’re making my headache worse.”
Instead of aiming for her mouth again, Byakuya directed his lips onto her collarbone. He peppered kisses, presenting such a contrast to the bluntness she anticipated that she rocked into him with a whimper. Moving more urgently, his hands crawled to her bra’s hook-and-eye closure. The issue of their lack of lighting resurfaced- he failed to take off her bra, so she pinched and clawed until it unfastened and he flung it away.
Byakuya reclined further, cupping her breasts’ undersides.
Touko nestled her nose into the nook of his shoulder, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt before stroking his bare chest. She moaned at his hands that fondled and tweaked, her back arching and her fingers burrowing into his hair.
His touch only faltered when he distracted himself with the occasional lick of her ear. Mutters such as ‘you’re so easy to please’ and ‘oh, you would like that’ tickled her hearing until it dissolved into noise as she ground against him, their motion frenzied when the dampness in her panties rubbed against his bulge.
Then he sneezed into her hair.
She slowed, feeling for snot and saliva and telling herself to remember to abstain from cleaning that area until he specifically instructed she wash it.
Rather than pay her five more seconds of attention in order to realise what she was worshipping, Byakuya pushed back his fringe.
“Stupid,” he finally announced. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. I can’t believe it slipped my mind. Get up. We’re going to the other room. Sit on the desk.”
“W-What?”
“I said, ‘Get up. We’re going to the other room. Sit on the desk.’ This room is too dusty. Don’t tell me you forgot what happens when you sneeze.”
Touko nibbled her little finger’s nail.
“Are you suffering from amnesia or are you enjoying the sound of my voice?” Byakuya asked. “You remember how to walk, don’t you?”
She could have sneezed. Touko balled up her fists. During their makeout session, she could have sneezed. At any point, she could have exposed her dear Byakuya-sama to that monster who would snip at him with those ghastly scissors.
“Stand on the soles of your feet,” he said. “Lift one foot and place it ahead of the rest of your body until it meets the ground. Repeat this action with your other foot, continuing as many times as necessary.”
If she had sneezed, he would never want anything to do with her again. The chances of him dying after such an encounter were minimal, but what if Genocider Syo got carried away in the heat of the moment? What then?
“Tch.” Byakuya rotated Touko so she sat sideways on him. He placed one hand under her knees, the other supporting her back. “You are lucky you’re so scrawny and I have an impeccable physique. Otherwise I would be forced to roll you there.”
He lurched to his feet and out of the room, shoulder barging into the door, and he plopped her onto the desk he had been reading at previously.
“You don’t have to hold onto me anymore,” he mumbled, peeling her fingers off his body before stepping back. Byakuya retrieved her glasses from his jacket pocket and pressed them into her hand.
Touko put them on and blinked. The library wasn’t much brighter but she welcomed any light no matter how small. In here, she could see the walls lined with bookshelves and the cuboid pillar a few metres away- an interior far less claustrophobic than the storage room’s. Next to her was Byakuya’s half-empty mug and book, the title on the dust jacket just legible in the desk lamp’s glow.
‘The Man in the Brown Suit.’
“It’s more in the open than I would like,” Byakuya said, swatting at the book. His unbuttoned shirt flared. He picked up the mug and ducked to place it onto the floor. “But as you pointed out,” he straightened up, “it is unlikely anyone will come. What with their stupidly optimistic outlooks on living a safe and chummy life here, they’re all content to obey their silly rules. Still,” he plucked at the fly of his trousers, “let’s... not idle.”
“Mmhm,” she went, admiring his definitely impeccable physique.
He pushed into Touko, the backs of her knees curling around the desk’s edge.
She exhaled, snaking her hands behind his dangling shirt and to his armpits. Then down when she felt his hands move from her hips to slip beneath her panties. Touko panted, loosening his belt before delving underneath his waistband.
Byakuya stiffened.
She realised.
“Do you have any,” her blush deepened, “c-condoms?”
“... Not on my person, no.” He glared. “Why would I bring one to a library? To use as a bookmark?”
“So... now what?” Touko looked down.
He didn’t respond.
“We... could go to your room?” she suggested.
“That’s too much hassle,” he said. “There are other things we can do.”
Byakuya manoeuvred his hands to her thighs and toward the frills of her panties leg openings, expression inscrutable.
“Remember?”
How could she not?
Touko nodded and parted her legs, her heels scuffing the back of his jacket.
His middle three fingers pressed hard circles against her panties’ wetness. Circles that wringed out mewls and sighs that shook her body and prompted him to hiss that she better keep still and silence herself or else he would leave.
She pushed her upper body forward slightly so she could see him better. All the action had messed up his hair, slicking it with spikes and tufts that pointed in the wrong direction. And his collar was too high on one side. And without his glasses, he seemed more naked. Younger, almost, barring the attentiveness in his sharp blue eyes surrounded by blotchy skin.
As beautiful as ever.
He plucked down her panties, narrowing his eyes at the sound of her grizzling.
Touko made to take over only for him to bat at her wrist. She relented immediately.
“Do you have any diseases I should be aware of?” he asked, not meeting her gaze.
“N-No...”
Byakuya lowered his head, blowing air onto her skin and making her insides throb. His tongue slipped out of his mouth, drawing closer and closer to-
She gasped.
No way.
Yes way.
The first lick was cold soon replaced by an electrifying warmth.
Touko bucked her hips as his tongue dragged upward and stopped just shy of the source of the pulsating in her core. Too much, too soon. She pushed his head down her legs.
His tongue curled into his mouth and he kissed down her scars to her knee. He kissed his way back up before swapping to her other leg.
She moaned and tugged at his hair.
He gripped her thighs, shooting her a dirty look, but returned to where he started. Byakuya took his time with his tongue, varying his licks- some used the flat of his tongue and some its pointed end. Touko twitched with each touch and he tightened his hold, glimpsing her face whenever he shook hair from his eyes. During these times, he paused to analyse her facial features with a gaze just as powerful as his tongue.
All attempts to grind into him were met with resistance. His massaging finally homed in on where she wanted him most. Byakuya’s tongue slapped and swirled and his mouth sucked, all targeting the same area. The wetness melting them together prickled and Touko’s vocalisations heightened in volume.
Byakuya broke away to snap, “Shut up,” before latching back on. His tongue’s tempo evened when her muscles tensed, her thighs quaking against his palms.
Touko’s body clenched briefly before relaxing, giving way to a hot rush that engulfed her everything. She thrashed and mumbled Byakuya’s name like it was the only thing she knew how to say until he reached up to cup his palm over her mouth.
“I heard you the first time,” Byakuya said after she calmed somewhat.
He untangled her fingers from his hair. Once he freed them, he rose and peered down with an almost amused expression.
“You’ll catch flies if you keep looking so dimwitted,” he said. “I only did it to repay you for last time while also ensuring when you return the favour that you don’t do it to an unsatisfactory standard. Think of it as an incentive.”
Byakuya wiped his mouth on his sleeve, tongue tasting whatever didn’t make it onto his jacket.
“Give and take,” he said. “Otherwise one source is run dry.”
Touko smiled at the ceiling, still a bit dizzy. “I wouldn’t mind running your source dry, Byakuya-sama...”
“And I wouldn’t mind your source of innuendos running dry if it were possible,” he retorted. “Remove your mind from the gutter and listen. How are we going to do this next part? I don’t care for going back to my room right now but I don’t wish to leave any,” he stepped out from between her legs and stood to the side, turning his body so he faced away from the desk, “evidence.”
“D-Don’t worry.” Touko sat up, drooling. “I’ll lick away anything you leave behind... or I’ll s-swallow, in this case.” She giggled. “If it’s yours, I’ll swallow your... your...!”
“Enough. I got it.” He furrowed his brow. “Are you sure? I can’t guarantee it’ll be a five star meal, even if it is coming from me.”
“I-I’m sure,” she replied, pushing herself forward and to her feet.
Byakuya leaned back, lightly resting against the desk. He blew out air from his nose. “Get on with it then.”
She stood herself in front of him and reached toward his trousers waistband. He didn’t say anything so she assumed she had permission to touch him. “Th-Though I thought you didn’t enjoy... them... Last time I did it, you looked uncomfortable...”
“Yes. Well.” He coughed into the back of his hand. “Not everyone can be a fast learner or a people-person like myself, able to swiftly infer others’ preferences. But even you will manage under my supervision.” Byakuya paused. “Just don’t bite it or anything. Or scream like last time. It’s not that scary.”
Touko cringed. “I-It didn’t scare me!” She grabbed his jacket. He allowed her to toss it onto the desk and her hands returned to his waistband. “I was just... just taken aback by the beauty of your... your skin flute!”
No one said anything for five seconds.
During this period of inactivity, Byakuya simply stared at her. “Skin-?”
“Y-Your love muscle!” she blurted out.
He stared some more.
“Rod of Lordly Might!”
The blotches of colour on his face bled into each other.
“Your Togami Conglomerate Missile! Your-!”
“Stop. Never say any of those things ever again.” Byakuya slouched and held onto the edge of the desk. “If you must refer to it, ‘dick’ will suffice. Now get on with it.”
His trousers required one tug. They dropped to his ankles with his thong following shortly after.
Touko knelt, dragging her palms down his taut thighs.
She gawked at his... dick.
Byakuya glared.
“What is it now?” he asked. “It's not like you haven't seen it before, or has it spontaneously grown four eyes?”
“I...” Touko licked her lips. “I d-don't want to s-spoil your incentive...”
“Oh for-” He grabbed her wrist and placed her hand between his legs, holding it there until her fingers curled him. “It's nothing new. Honestly, you really weren’t that bad last time. Just bob your hand and put some effort into it. And use your mouth as well. That’s all there is to-”
She dragged her fist down him. He hissed.
“... Yes,” Byakuya said through gritted teeth, “like that. Only harder.”
Touko worked her hand up then down again and again, slow but firm, feeling him swell in her grasp. Her rhythm quickened when she lowered her lips to his tip, exhaling against his skin.
Byakuya’s knuckles whitened.
“Like that,” he repeated. “Exactly like-!”
She licked slowly, enjoying how he tried not to react. Her palm smeared saliva down him that mixed with the oily fluid he seeped, and she hollowed her cheeks as she took more of him in.
Byakuya sucked in air, hips wavering and arms buckling.
The sounds she made came out louder than expected- slurps popped the air and undoubtedly repulsed Byakuya, who was almost silent save for his shallow breathing. She looked up and was rewarded with a view of his flushed face and compressed lips. Touko slowed to marvel at his expression. It was soft, softer than usual anyway, a hint of teeth showing through lips that parted as he absorbed her everything.
Then he growled and pushed into her, only easing up when she gagged and increased her speed.
“Don’t play games with me.” He bowed his head, shoulders shaking. “I told you we’re not... to idle...!”
Keeping one hand jerking between her mouth and the rest of him, Touko reached forward with her other hand while maintaining eye contact.
Byakuya tilted his head to one side. “What-?”
He groaned when she groped between his legs. His hips rocked into her openly now, offbeat to Touko’s bobbing.
“Fuk...awa, I’m-” Byakuya stiffened, planting a hand onto the top of Touko’s head when she paused to listen. “Don’t... slow down. Don’t change anything. I’m about to... going to-”
Her tongue folded into his slit.
Byakuya’s moan drowned out hers.
Warm saltiness splashed into Touko’s mouth, some of it dribbling down her chin when she fell back. She pinched her nose as she spluttered and swallowed and coughed, pointing her aching knees at the ceiling.
Byakuya sat on the desk, doubled over and silent for several minutes.
He didn’t seem in any mood to talk so she left briefly to fetch her clothes from the storage room. When she finished getting dressed and reunited with him, Byakuya had put his glasses back on and was staring at the door.
“You didn’t close the door,” he mumbled. It took Touko a moment to realise he was talking to her and not himself. He spoke louder. “Why didn’t you close the door after yourself? Someone could have been nearby. Close the door and turn the lights on.”
Touko obeyed.
“I-I thought I did,” she said as the door shut. Neither could do anything about that now. “I’m sure... it’s fine.”
Yasuhiro whacked his palm against the breakfast table, knocking over Makoto’s glass of orange juice.
“You guys won’t believe what I dreamed about last night,” Yasuhiro said.
Kyouko looked up from her bowl of cereal.
“Is it something which is appropriate to share while we’re eating this time?” she asked.
Yasuhiro scratched the back of his head. “Probably not but it was really messed up. See, I thought I saw a makura-gaeshi in my room. With my soul in serious danger, I decided I should find out how to protect myself, ‘right? So I went to the-”
“We’ve heard enough of your babbling,” Byakuya suddenly said, his fork rattling against his empty plate. His face was unusually pale.
“I bet his dream ended with a dirty scene,” Touko piped up. “B-Boys his age are full of lewd thoughts that... that manifest as perverted fantasies when they go to bed. Born from the frustrations of reality... I-I bet it was about Asahina! She’s his type, after all...”
“Eh?” Aoi reddened. “Hagakure, what’s the big idea? You should get done for sexual harassment.”
“Dreams don’t count as harassment,” said Makoto.
Yasuhiro waved. “And you weren’t even in it! But you know what? It’s not important. Forget I ever mentioned it, ‘right?”
Byakuya smirked. “That would involve listening in the first place.”