Project 2 -

Byakuya Togami & The Ultimate Imposter

Part 1 -

The Gray Area

Time for a time jump. Every new project will jump back 5 days in time in order to offer a fresh perspective, a new project. The last project will perhaps be the only one with romance involved, but as for now, it's time for a fresh view.

Byakuya Togami was a king among the everyman (or at least that is what he liked to believe). So why oh why did that gutter-cleaning housekeep feel the need to match him up with a true guttersnipe like an imposter? Absolute nonsense, he thought. Why should he even be forced to do this paltry charade? He understood there was a need to cultivate talent (he was in a class with an author, soldier, programmer, detective, etc. of course they could be bolstered by a partner; that was only logical) but what he and a second-rate copy could possibly produce as a show of talent was beyond him. He strolled out the hall gritting his teeth, clenching his fists and not caring about which peasantry saw him in this state. His counterpart waddled after him. When they reached the door, his counterpart spoke up. "Are you just going to stand there being pissed off, or actually act like the leader I decided to model myself after?" His imposter's dead-on impression brought him nearly to boiling point.

"Stop talking." Byakuya chided. He wasn't working with this insufferable clone any second longer. "And while you're at it, go suck on a railroad spike and never talk to me again. I'll be leaving now. Follow me and I'll make sure you live to regret it."

Byakuya decided he needed some air or at least some time alone. He returned to his room, grabbing a book he was reading – Plato's Phaedo – and took off to the auditorium, eager to at least enjoy a few days without lessons.

The auditorium was an extremely grand room, as was every room in Hope's Peak. It was as big a spectacle as many a concert hall, almost Carnegie Hall, but not quite. Many of Hope's Peak's finest musicians performed here, and it quite reminded Byakuya of a cinema with it's black felt walls, lined with circular lights and the large red curtains that covered the stage had etched into in gold leaf them some of the finest Sumi-e artwork Byakuya had seen, despite one of his father's professions being an art dealer. Byakuya found it deserted, not a soul in the hundreds of plush red, velvet seats in the spectator's gallery. It was a perfect place to shake off the humdrum of everyday life – a humdrum Byakuya found no great desire to participate in (as a matter of fact, he found it rather beneath him, why should a person such as he be forced into the everyman's lifestyle?). He slid his glasses up his slender nose. They cost a small fortune, but that was a pittance to the Togamis. He sat there, drinking in the silence and the musings of Plato – for he could appreciate genius other than his own, contrary to what many of his classmates would say – until a shrill voice broke the thinly woven strands of noiseless ecstasy around him. "M-Master! He-here you are!" Toko Fukawa yelled from the door.

The Ultimate Imposter couldn't remember his own name. Honestly, he preferred it that way. With his knack for impersonation, he couldn't care less what his own name was – only the name of who he portrayed. And he had begun to regret choosing Byakuya Togami. From the small conversation he had in the projector room (which was Byakuya throwing insults at him for 90% of the entire time) to the whole 'suck on a railroad spike' schtick, he began to realize that Togami was certainly a leader, but also an asshole. It was honestly quite stark. He had been led to believe Byakuya was certainly abrasive, but also had the mettle of a natural-born leader, which had mostly been why he had selected to impersonate him – he wanted to lead his classmates, while also at least being empathetic. But the Byakuya he saw then was just plain rude and stuck up, a boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He had no intention of pursuing the project further with the Byakuya he knew currently, and so decided he would instead spend the next few days scouting out Class 78, to see who would be a good person to impersonate, one who he believed could be useful.

This wench. This absolute worm. Toko Fukawa was perhaps the very bottom of the pond scum of Hope's Peak. And she was absolutely obsessed with Byakuya. "M-Master? W-why are you h-h-here? Is i-it because y-you h-h-hate me?"

"Of course it is. Now leave."

"B-but Master..."

"Leave."

"…w-we're meant f-for each other, Master. Y-you'll see."

"Are you still talking?" Byakuya had his nose buried in his book again, blanking Toko.

"Nnnngh…" Toko swiftly left the auditorium, slamming the door behind her. Thank God, Byakuya thought. He felt drained by the interaction. He decided he needed some coffee, something strong and bitter (much like Byakuya's personality).

Byakuya arrived in the cafeteria, very much enjoying its rustic aesthetic, as it reminded him of his small (well, small for the Togamis) office in the main Togami Industries building in the heart of the city. The two overweight blemishes in the center of it ruined the experience for him. Hifumi and another unshapely figure (whom Byakuya assumed to be Teruteru Hanamura, the Ultimate Cook) were behind the large marble counter that lined the east side of the canteen, just near the coffee machine (one of many machines allowing the students to create their own food or drink lined up on the marble counter). He didn't care to ask Hifumi what seemed to have gotten the guy so down and sad, as Hifumi was nearly as detestable as the likes of Fukawa. He began to brew a very dark black coffee, in order to set off the sluggish mood that witch had put him in. He had walked in on a conversation between the two, which he mostly tuned out of. Conversations between peasantry were as valued as white noise and it came into his ears as such. But he could not help catch a comment that passed from Hifumi's ugly lips. "It's just that thought of his greasy, oily hands all over her perfect, angelic form… it makes my blood boil!" Hifumi looked to the sky and screamed that last part. Whatever that degenerate was on about, it already made bile rise into Byakuya's throat.

"I know he's perverted, but he has Sonia… don't put too much thought into it. Not around another person." Teruteru pointed a stubby figure at Byakuya.

"Ah, Byakuya." A grim smile spread across Hifumi's greasy face. "Y-you didn't hear anything of that, did you, my friend?"

"First off, peasant, I'm not 'your friend,' and don't ever assume I will be so. Second off, if you're lusting after that programmer again, I wouldn't. Hell will freeze over before she ever looks twice at you." Byakuya made his distaste for Hifumi clear, not wanting to be misunderstood.

"Born with a silver spoon, I see," Teruteru spoke up, his hand to the tip of his coiffed hair.

"What's it to you, guttersnipe?"

"…I do not care for your riches, Mr. Togami. Perhaps you think me perverted, and I suppose I am. But know this – my family is self-made. I am an ultimate simply because I am good at what I do. The best, in fact. You've got a jumped up title and ego. I don't care for that."

"And I don't care for your preaching. Who cares what I was born with? I can't change my birthright, so I suppose my talent is similar to Makoto's – luck. But it's mine now. And I intend to own it." He grabbed his coffee and sipped it. Refreshing. "Goodbye." Byakuya walked out of the cafeteria, not wanting to talk to these two any longer. Why was everyone he was talking to today so damn annoying?

"Hello, Bya- ah. It appears you seemed to have gained a bit of weight. Perhaps a new training regimen is in order? You could've always used a bulk up." The Ultimate Imposter had gone to the gymnasium, in order to meet with a few members of Class 78. He had met with Sakura Ogami outside the pool and she appeared to be guarding the entrance. "Hmph. You've got it wrong, I'm not your friend."

"Hah. It's very bold of you to call Byakuya a friend."

"I'm here to meet some possible future acquaintances, that's all."

"Well, you won't meet two of them. Kiyotaka and that team leader, as well as Aoi and her new partner, are holed up in the pool, getting ready for their project."

"A mutually beneficial assignment collaboration… interesting…"

"Yeah, you can't do much here without a physical talent here, huh?"

"Or a good partner."

"Heh, I guess you're realizing that the man you base yourself on is perhaps not the most righteous person you know."

"Truly." 'Byakuya' held out a flabby arm and Sakura shook it with her steel grip. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Ogami."
"I'd quite like to trade Byakuyas, now. Hahahaha!" Sakura gave one last hearty shake of his arm, nearly dislocating his shoulder.

Byakuya was walking to the swimming pool, ready to train his body (which he suddenly felt a desire to do, seeing how badly his counterpart had let himself go) when he saw the very person he was thinking about and winced. "Hmph. If you're trying to get in there, me, I'd highly advise against it. Unless you have a desire to have your bones shattered by Miss Ogami."

"I'm not scared of an ogre guarding her swamp, me. If that's what we're calling each other, then so be it."
"Well, I'll be waiting at the nurse's office, me. Don't come crying."

"Heh. Watch that tongue, cur." Byakuya grinned sarcastically, but he couldn't help but feel a genuine happiness in that grin. His copycat certainly played the 'unsympathetic asshole' aspect of his own personality rather well. As they passed, Byakuya felt a slight connection to himself.

He entered the gymnasium's dedicated swimming pool area and felt the humidity as the navy-blue doors shut behind him, causing a slight damp weight to press down on his perfectly-ironed suit. "Well, well, well. I suppose Mondo's sake has me seeing double." Sakura gave him a grin, a glint in her eye. A small entourage followed her, including Aoi, a taller, more well-endowed Aoi, Kiyotaka and a louder looking Kiyotaka. Another faint smile played across Byakuya's lips. He didn't necessarily like Sakura, but he admired her in the same way a businessman would admire his rival – hatred mixed with bitter respect for how they operated. She often joked they were born rivals – two children from two prestigious families, one Lawful Good, the other Lawful Evil. She often teased him by calling him by the nicknames associated with pop culture (Byakuya grimaced at the thought of those two words) icons, due to Aoi introducing her to a life outside of her fighting, one where actual social activities took place. When she found out he was calling her 'ogre' behind her back, she quickly began to bow low whenever she saw him and address him as 'Lord Farquaad,' a more grievous blow upon his pride than her fists could ever produce upon his body. But she was still at the top of his list for least-despised in his class, the top being her, Kyoko and Mukuro (purely based on the fact the latter two displayed little to no emotion), and the bottom being Hifumi (pervert) Chihiro (emotional, over-empathetic wreck) and Toko. "First two Aois, then two Kiyotakas and now two Byakuyas. Perhaps I should not try and temper my spirit with alcohol any longer."

"Hmph." Byakuya nodded. "Ogre."

"Nice to see you too, rich boy." She responded.

"Hey! What gives you the right to keep calling Sakura that?" Aoi asked, as much anger as she could muster in her voice.

"Yeah! You're asking for an ass-kicking, pretty boy!" Her double yelled at him, more energetic than angry. He supposed she was Akane Owari, the Ultimate Gymnast.

"Hmph. Try and do it. Go ahead, humor me."

"Woah! H-hey! Everybody, please, calm down! I will have order!" Taka's loud voice demanded attention and Aoi and Akane's posture relaxed.

"Yeah! Everybody, CALM DOWN!" The large, domineering figure yelled out from behind Kiyotaka. The command shook the hallway, and could probably be heard from the main building.

"Jeez, Nekomaru, we get it." Akane seemed quite used to these loud outbursts. The pale-as-ghosts figures of Aoi and Kiyotaka were not.

"Well, lovely talk but I must be going now. Move out of my way." Byakuya continued that cold, deadpan tone he so loved to speak in as he gestured with his arms and watched the sea of five students part beside him. It had been a rather long day in terms of people he did wish to speak to appearing suddenly and ruining his tranquil day.

Byakuya entered the boy's changing rooms and got changed in one of the many spacious cubicles that lined the east and west perimeters of the room. He got a shower and walked out onto the poolside. The floors were clean and white, without a spot or speck of dust on them. The pool itself was 50 meters lengthways and 10 meters in width. It had two large diving boards on either end, which Byakuya often jumped off. Only a spineless fool would fear a height that could not kill you. He noticed a figure who was swimming at the other end (she must have arrived sometime before those four got in, as Sakura was guarding the entrance and would surely be strict about it), and he noticed the slender figure of Sayaka Maizono, so often absent due to her many tours with her idol group around the country. They locked eyes, and his gaze which simply read 'don't bother me' was all she really needed to catch to get the picture. She continued on swimming laps up and down, assumedly to keep her figure for tours. Byakuya lowered himself into the pool, the slight cold of the water chilling his skin, and felt the tension of the day melt away. He took a deep breath, thrust his arms forward and began to get to work.

Byakuya eventually got out of the pool, noticing that Sayaka had left, probably at one point during his training session. He hoisted himself up, caught his breath and returned to the changing room. After putting on his clothes and flattening down every crease he could find, he pushed his glasses up his nose and exited the gymnasium. The evening air bit at his nose and fingers with its bitter breeze, and he checked his watch (which was about the same price as a small flat in the center of London) and saw the time was about 7 pm, meaning he had been training for about three hours, which satisfied him greatly. He returned to his room, welcoming the warmth it brought with it. He went to his desk, on which was sitting a standard-issue Hope's Peak laptop he had persuaded (read; 'threatened') Chihiro to upgrade for him. His phone (another expensive buy) was positioned next to it. He picked it up to see he had received a text from his father at 5:21 pm. It read "My son, victor among your siblings and heir to our family's throne, the Togami Corporation is undergoing some troubles. We're understaffed at our main office and the meetings with Kamiki Tech, Tojo Catering Services, and Ikami Inc. have all requested a Togami individually. There's not a chance that your exiled half-siblings can be there, and there would have to be two of either of us for the meetings to all go forward. Son, I trust you – rightful heir to the Togami Empire to come up with a strategy and report back in two days time.

– Your Father."

Byakuya set his phone down, next to empty coffee cup he hadn't bothered to wash – despite him sometimes making his own food now, he still wished Aloysius was there to do the rest for him. "Two of either of us." The words took on a bitter irony now he was in this situation, where he had access to a second him. These were all vital meetings, with famous people undoubtedly attending the boardrooms they were to be held in – for the Togami Corporation to miss them was unthinkable.

Looks like the project's going forward as planned, he thought.