AN: Hello! I hope the last chapter was a nice short read to bridge the gap. It will be made up for by this chapter, which will be significantly longer. Enjoy!
Makoto woke up to the small weight on him again, though this time it was more on his chest than his arm. Kyoko was once again laying on him and while he appreciated that she was comfortable enough to do that, this was the fifth morning in a row she'd done this. It was still a surprise that he had woken before her this many days straight. At least Junko wasn't at the foot of the bed as she was the streak had begun. Hajime had finally cobbled a cell together. He took the door of the now vacant 9th room and replaced it with one that had both bars and a slot in which to pass a tray of food. Hajime didn't trust himself with the only key, which essentially meant he didn't trust Izuru with the sole way of entering the room of a women he intended to murder viciously. Who could blame him? By very undemocratic means Byakuya was presented with the key, the Heir being the only one both harsh enough and resistant enough to goading ad insults to deal with the day to day pestering of the Fashionista. She was allowed to stroll freely for hour intervals twice daily, most of which she spent attempting to cuddle Makoto (much to Kyoko's chagrin) or seduce him. She had, over the last three days of imprisonment, managed to play pool with Ibuki and look through Mahiru's photo albums. They were quickly reminded never to do that again as the majority of her time doing that was spent reminding them that their friends were indeed dead. The others were allowed into her cell but only Hajime frequently entered, mainly in the interest of psychological assessment than idle chatter. He believed himself to be making progress but it was evident on the face of Chiaki, who usually stood outside the cell or in its doorway during the assessment, that little had worked on restoring the disturbed mind of the mass extinctionist. Junko seemed to be as freakishly chipper as ever, perhaps more so now that she could only see Makoto for a maximum of two short hours a day. That meant that all of the usual day-length teasing had to be fit into that small time frame and Junko intended to achieve that. She wore as little as possible around Makoto at first, which essentially led to Chiaki and Ibuki dressing her before she stepped out of her cell. For now, he had little to worry about in regard to The Mastermind.
The last few days had been quiet. Hajime seemed to be hovering around the hatch more often as the days went on, clearly trying to prep the shelter for whatever Nekomaru threw at them. They still had just under three months to prepare for it but it was still ever-present in their minds. Hajime had also been seen taking a lot of bags, mainly suitcases and backpacks, into the kitchen and then into the small store room. He had clearly begun prepping already but the question was; was it reassuring that Hajime was already getting his things together or was it a sign that Nekomaru was extremely powerful? The latter made him quite fearful for himself and those around him. Who amongst them had the capacity to defeat someone capable of matching Sakura Oogami? Hajime was obviously a standout. He clearly had superhuman abilities and intelligence of a prodigal level. Toko, as Genocide Jack, could also provide some attacking threat but none a defensive one. She was capable of dodging and quickly performing precise attacks but she was no powerhouse. She could easily be taken down in a single, strong hit. The rest of his group had little experience in both fighting and dealing with those with extreme power. Even those in Hajime's group had little to offer in terms of protection. Peko was an obvious example of a capable warrior but she had limitations. Her arm (and her eyesight, potentially) were two major factors. Gundham certainly looked dangerous but whether or not he could perform in the heat of battle was sceptical. He could easily tame large animals if any could be found. Could Fuyuhiko fight? He certainly seemed like that would be a skill he possessed as a yakuza. That just left the other girls. He couldn't see Mahiru or Ibuki as someone who could fight, especially in a situation of someone with superior strength. That meant that he and Kyoko would have to step up. He'd have to step up. He'd need to start training if he wanted to be useful. He'd start as soon as possible. First, he'd have to shuffle out from underneath Kyoko.
''Hey Hajime?'' The taller boy peered over the kitchen counter from his crouching position. ''Can you start training me to fight?'' Hajime chuckled and stood, pan in hand. He closed a cupboard and placed the pan on the countertop. ''I thought you'd want this sooner or later. You considered who could protect us, correct?'' Makoto gave a brisk nod. ''I would prefer that there wasn't a position that I wasn't available to protect you. However, I can't deny the possibility that you may not be able to call for me. So, yeah. I'll train you. It'll start slow and we'll work at your pace, even if you feel like you're moving too slow. You won't be, FYI.'' Makoto gave him a large smile and placed a hand on his shoulder. ''Thank you. I wont let you down.'' Hajime returned an equally enthusiastic expression. ''I know you won't; you're the Ultimate Hope.'' He grabbed the pan and turned towards the hob. He placed the pan on it and reached over to the left of the oven. He grabbed an egg and cracked it, the contents dripping into the metal container. The sound of frying was almost instant and Makoto knew that Hajime was the Ultimate Chef. He faced Makoto and told him to get Chiaki. He trudged to the couples room and pushed open the door. ''WOAH!'' He spun away and looked at the floor. She had just finished breastfeeding and he saw it! He sputtered and tried to find the words to tell her about breakfast but found himself inept. He felt her hand on his shoulder and he turned hesitantly. She had put them away, at least. ''It's okay. It happens a lot. You get used to it eventually, definitely when people like Gundham see it.'' She giggled into her hand and wandered sleepily to her husband. ''You see something you shouldn't have?'' Once again Makoto jumped and yelped. ''Kyoko! Don't scare me like that…'' The Detective gave him a sarcastic smirk. She wore her usual skirt and formal shirt but left her hair down and her jacket off. This had become her common look before 11'o'clock as she usually went out for fresh air about that point. ''You didn't answer my question, Makoto.'' She kept her knowing smile. ''I saw… Chiaki breastfeeding.'' He squeezed his eyes shut and waited to be reprimanded. He was surprised to hear the clack of her heeled boots as she brushed past him. ''Well I expected nothing less from a man of your luck.'' 'You're not mad?'' Kyoko looked back and gave him a quizzical look. ''Why would I be? It was bound to happen sooner or later. I was actually expecting it to be finding Ibuki nude or something similar.'' Makoto exhaled sharply, the joke too realistic to laugh openly at. He hurried behind her to the table and sat at her side. ''What's your plan for today?'' He heard from the kitchen. Hajime was putting several breakfasts on their respective plates, expecting an answer. ''I… don't think we have one.'' Makoto replied, turning to Kyoko who confirmed with a nod. ''Great! In that case, I'd like you two to go to the city with Mahiru and Ibuki. Mahiru wants to take some more photos and Ibuki wants whatever Ibuki wants. You'll be back before 4, probably.'' ''Can we look for stuff to keep ourselves entertained?'' Kyoko asked, only realising the partial insult as she finished. ''I guess you'll find something cool to take back along the way.'' He marched to the table, balancing 4 plates in his hands. Chiaki trailed him and yawned as she flopped into her seat. He had never seen someone so tired yet so energetic. He had made omelettes for all of them, somehow managing to make it look and taste restaurant quality in roughly 10 minutes of cooking. Chiaki basically swallowed the plate whole, eating the entire meal in what seemed like a matter of seconds. Hajime was a stark comparison. He had barely touched his plate, picking at the food and toying with the idea of trying his world-class meal. ''Do you not find your own cooking as delicious as everyone else does?'' Makoto asked with a nervous smile. He had butchered that attempt to start conversation. ''Not really. It tastes good but not as good as Chiaki's cooking. She makes a mean microwave meal.'' Chiaki puffed her cheeks and slapped her husband's arm. ''I can make big meals like you, ya know. It's just easier to make ramen and stuff when you're binging a game for 12 hours.'' Hajime giggled and ruffled her hair. Chiaki tried to say 'stop it' but was interrupted by her own laughter as her partner began tickling her sides. They were interrupted by a loud crash as Chiaki knocked a plate to the floor in her squirming, shattering it. ''Ah, shit.'' Hajime knelt and scooped up the pieces in a flash. ''Sorry, sweetheart.'' Chiaki pushed her glass further from the edge of the table instinctively. Her orange juice sat in the container almost unchanged by the altercation. ''HEEEYYYY! I'M HUNGRY!'' The two couples turned to the ninth room. Junko stood at her door with the blanket draped over her. She seemed genuine in her complaint and Hajime strode over to the countertop. He picked up a plate of food and threw it across the room. It spun in what seemed like slow motion and contacted the floor a few feet before the door. It slid after it contacted, coming to a stop a few inches short of the Fashionista's feet. She gave a wry thumbs up before crouching down and retrieving her meal. She slithered out of sight, leaving the four at the table to her own devices. ''Anything on the task list today, Hajime?'' Makoto stretched as he inquired. ''Not really. I guess you could just chill and play games?'' Kyoko stayed quiet, revelling in Makoto's face as he raced Chiaki to the console. She had clearly done this before, finding the quickest route to the controllers. Makoto made a less graceful effort, tripping on the footstool and bumping into the edge of the sofa. By the time he recovered, Chiaki had already started up the PS2 and started Tekken 4. He sat down in a huff, begrudgingly accepting Player 2 from the smug Gamer. Kyoko trudged over and sat behind her boyfriend. Her presence gave an added pressure that was already enormous from playing arguably the best gamer before the world ended and definitely the best gamer after it ended. He had no chance and it showed in his performance. He played Chiaki three times and won none. Kyoko seemed contemplative, sitting in silence with a disgruntled look on her face. A door slammed to their right. Byakuya stood in the doorway, his nightwear shabby and crooked. ''YOU.'' He stormed over to the kitchen and grabbed Hinata by his shirt. Hinata stayed still, allowing him to hold him in place. ''When are you going to fix my room?'' Hinata raised an eyebrow. What's wrong with it?'' Byakuya almost fainted judging by the look of paleness on his face. ''You realise that the rooms are not sound-proof? You realise that I can hear Enoshima from my room and I can hear the musical one singing 24/7?'' Hajime chuckled slightly. ''And what do you expect me to do about it?'' Byakuya gripped the fabric of his shirt even harder. ''Why don't you do something a true leader would do and fix it? Or must I do what I am destined to do and lead humanity's last bastion?'' Hajime squinted, trying to gauge whether the sleep deprived Heir was serious or trying to aggravate the Prodigy. ''If you want me to remain amongst your measly ranks then you had better soundproof all of our rooms or Enoshima's alone.'' He let go of his shirt. ''Actually…'' He sped into the store room and emerged with an enormous, thick wooden pallet. ''What are you doing?!'' Hajime shouted as he put down the plates and made a beeline for the Heir. ''This could provide some level of soundproofing. I'll nail it to the wall at my discretion.'' He placed it next to his door and thrust the door open. ''Out, doggy.'' Toko ran out and into the main room. ''Byakuya, let me do this later. You know, when you're not disturbing everyone else's sleep.'' Hajime said in a condescending tone. ''And let you potentially destroy my things, you brute? Perish the thought.'' ''Do you really wanna see how much of a brute I am, buddy?'' He closed the gap between the blonde and himself. Makoto stood and made his way over. He couldn't let it escalate further. Chiaki had done the same and was quickly running to her husband. ''Hajime! Don't let him-'' CRACK! The pallet had fallen in Hajime and Byakuya's struggle over it and hit Chiaki on the head, corner first. Chiaki hit the ground fast, the pallet covering the majority of her unconscious body. Hajime grabbed Byakuya by the throat. His eyes were all the proof they needed to see that he was no longer in control. He threw the tall boy over his shoulder like a pitcher would in baseball, the Heir soaring across the room towards the kitchen. He smashed into the wall between the cabinets and fell into a crumpled heap. Izuru lifted the pallet with a single hand and launched it back towards the door of the store room. It passed the threshold with pinpoint accuracy, though it wasn't as if the crimson-eyed boy was admiring his handiwork. He had lifted Chiaki into a bridal carry and was already making his way to their room. As he passed Makoto he leant in slightly. ''I'm sorry. Please make sure he doesn't have any extreme injuries.'' His voice carried enough emotion to announce that Hajime had some semblance of control again. Makoto did as he was told, sprinting over to his friend, who lay in the foetal position gripping his chest. Kyoko made herself busy wetting a flannel and walked over to Byakuya. He was murmuring and grumbling in his agony. Makoto took the flannel offered to him and put it to the injured boy's forehead. It was strange. If Byakuya were coherent enough to refuse The Luckster's help he was sure he would. But for now they could at least drag him to his room. He had no visible cuts or gashes so it was likely he had horrific bruising across his back and chest from the forceful impact. And it was certainly forceful. There was a crater in the wall where he had made contact and wall was crumbling. The couple lifted him up and began carrying him to his room. Toko, having finally realised the gravity of the situation, sprinted to her prince's side and helped the two lift him slightly easier. She was strangely silent considering the danger he could've been in. It also came as a surprise that Genocide Jack didn't come out at the sight of her love being gravely injured. Maybe even the Ultimate Murderous Fiend knew that she was no match for the Ultimate Ultimate. They managed to get him to his bed and place him as gently as they could, though his scream as his back hit the bed suggested that his injuries were extremely bad. Toko sat on his knees by his bedside. She was as pained emotionally about this as Byakuya was physically. His breathing was ragged and the initial tears were quickly being replaced by new ones. Kyoko skulked out of the room and wandered into the 1st room to check on Chiaki's condition. She too was lain on the bed but without the cries of pain. She had an enormous gash on the right side of her head that Hajime was attempting to sew shut. He glanced up from his position in the chair next to the bed. His eyes displayed apologies he couldn't say with his mouth and Kyoko gave him a small nod. He regretted allowing Izuru access so easily and it showed. She returned to the 6th room and found Aoi and Hiro standing beside the Heir's bed. Aoi was slowly shuffling a pillow under his back and Hiro was… rolling a joint. ''Hiro.'' The Clairvoyant looked towards his Detective friend. 'I-It's not for me, man! It's for him!'' He pointed at the bed-ridden boy. ''It'll numb the pain and relax him and stuff.'' She sighed and crouched down next to the Swimmer. ''Did… Did Hajime do this?'' She asked as she turned to meet the pale girl's eyes. Kyoko nodded and turned to shuffle Byakuya's leg back onto the bed. She could've predicted this and in a way she had. She just hadn't expected something so silly and so trivial to spark Izuru's rage. ''Oh my god.'' Mahiru gingerly made her way towards the bed, peering over Toko's shoulder. ''Guess we're back to unreliable Hajime…'' She said under her breath. Makoto and Ibuki followed her in soon after, the punk rocker holding and ice pack and some painkillers. ''Give these to Booyakasha and the pain should go poof.'' She tossed Aoi the pills; she was the only one amongst them qualified to give medical treatment as she had taken first aid courses as part of lifeguard training. She popped two pills out of the packaging and placed them in his mouth. A bottle of water appeared from Hiro's pockets and Aoi poured some of the cold fluid into his mouth. Byakuya just about swallowed and the group breathed a sigh of relief. Even if something terrible had happened to his spine or any injury similar, he would at least have the pain muted until Hajime could fix it. He was technically the Ultimate Surgeon as well, right? With the right equipment he could do anything, he supposed. ''Peko and Fuyuhiko are making breakfast for you all.'' Hajime stood in the doorframe, a solemn look plastered on his face. ''May I see his injuries?'' Toko stood rapidly and stomped her way towards him. ''W-What makes y-you think you can just w-waltz in here and f-fix him!?'' Her fear had clearly subsided and been replaced by anger. ''How c-could you j-just let yourself do that!?'' Hajime didn't dispute her point with the same level of animosity. ''You, of all people, should know the difficulties of having a violent split personality. I'm sorry that I couldn't stop him. I'm sorry that I let you all down.'' Toko's expression softened for a moment before she closed the gap between them and screamed even louder. ''THEN WHY DON'T YOU DO SOMETHING TO GET RID OF HIM DIPSHIT!?'' Hajime frowned more than Makoto thought humanly possible. ''That's the thing. I don't think I can get rid of him, especially after today.'' Mahiru exhaled sharply. ''You don't mean…'' ''Yes. For the first time since the day I got my body back… in the moment where I hurt Byakuya, I-'' He steadied himself. ''Both Izuru and I were in my mind, in control, at the same time.
I hope this doesn't become a common them but- I'm sorry. This chapter is incredibly late and other than typical college stuff I don't really have an excuse. I'd at least like to add that I've been writing another fic at the same time as this but from now on this story takes priority. Thanks for reading, see you next time!
