#lee!byakuya

Byakuya and Makoto had been in class together not five minutes prior to this conversation -- Makoto had been catching up on some work that he needed to finish, and, as per usual, Byakuya had been reading. Aoi Asahina, who was also in the class, had been chatting with friends rather than doing any classwork. Her conversation was a bit loud, but it wasn’t so disruptive that Makoto couldn’t focus, so he’d let it be.

Unfortunately, Byakuya had thought otherwise.

He’d suddenly gotten up out of his chair and snapped his book shut, rudely asking Aoi to “quit her yapping.” Aoi, truly a gentle-hearted person, had started to apologize -- her erudite classmate immediately interrupted her, calling her a “vapid, shallow social butterfly,” and then labelling her an idiot. Poor Aoi, bottom lip trembling and eyes glassy, had darted out of the classroom, with her dearest companion Sakura close behind. When the room exploded in protest, everyone accusing Byakuya of several transgressions, he’d left the room, and Makoto took it upon himself to follow and try to remedy the situation.

This as not the first time that something like this had happened, but this was the harshest that Byakuya had been for some time. Makoto was doing his absolute best to not lose his patience.

“It’s not the truth, that’s subjective,” the brunet teen began, “and even if it was true, it’s still a mean thing to say. You could have been much more polite.”

“‘Mean?’ That’s subjective,” Byakuya replied coolly, pausing his march down the hallway to meet Makoto’s gaze. “If she can’t handle hardships or criticism, she doesn’t belong at Hope’s Peak -- this school is for the best of the best, not whiny children.”

Makoto clenched his fist and took a deep breath.

“She’s not a ‘whiny child,’ Togami, you hurt her feelings.”

“Who cares about her feelings?” the prodigy snarked, pushing up his glasses. “She should learn to keep her mouth shut.”

“She’s your friend!”

“She’s annoying.”

“And what makes you think that you’re any better than her?” Makoto shouted, beginning to lose his typically well-kept temper.

“I don’t think that I’m better than her,” Byakuya argued back, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms defiantly. “I know that I’m better than her.”

That finally set Makoto off -- in a moment of pure anger, he lunged at his classmate, tackling him to the ground. Naturally, Byakuya was caught off-guard, and a scuffle ensued as the blond tried to regain control of the situation.

“Naegi, what the hell are you doing?!--” Byakuya asked with a demanding tone, trying to push Makoto off of him. His efforts went to waste -- his classmate, though shorter, had more experience using his physical strength.

The brunet gripped Byakuya’s shirt collar, lifting him up slightly. “Don’t you ever say that about Asahina! You’re not better than her, you’re not better than anyone here--! Why won’t you just listen?!”

“Naegi, let me go--” the prodigy began to protest, attempting to sit up all the way. Makoto, in defiance, gripped his sides and pushed him back down onto the ground. “W-wait, hang on--”

“You need to apologize!”

“We can talk about this--”

“Oh, we’re way past talking,” Makoto growled. “You had that chance already, and you decided to be awful instead.”

“Just-- Just let me go--” Byakuya tried one last time to get back up, pushing himself up with his elbows. Makoto was not having it -- he straddled Byakuya and sat on top of him to keep him down. Then, anger still pulsing through his veins, he gripped his classmate tighter, pushing him all the way down flat.

“APOLOGIZE!”

“W-wAIT--!”

Byakuya’s high-pitched, borderline fearful yelp made Makoto’s heart tighten painfully -- his rage forgotten at once, he stopped to observe his classmate closely, watching for any signs of injury. Thankfully, the prodigy did not seem to be hurt, but he was staring up at Makoto with wide eyes. Though, he did not seem to be afraid either -- apprehensive, yes, but with an expression that read nervousness rather than terror.

Makoto began to take notice of some other details as well. Byakuya’s hands were clamped desperately onto his wrists, he was trying to force a stern expression, and his face was flushed with a vibrant red color that started in the center of his face and spread out.

The cogs in the brunet’s head clicked into place suddenly as he realized where his own hands were -- and, with great, triumph, his worried manner gave way to a small grin.

Upon seeing this shift in demeanor, Byakuya panicked. “Naegi, listen to me,” he growled, clearly still putting on a snarky façade. “This is idiotic. Just let me up--”

“And why should I listen to you?” Makoto interrupted. “You completely disregarded both me and Asahina. I think you deserve a little punishment, don’t you?”

Byakuya’s sarcasm dissolved instantaneously. “Y-you don’t have to do this. I’m not even--”

“Not even what? Ticklish?” Makoto finished, nearly giggling aloud at the way that Byakuya’s face grew even redder. “I think you’re lying, Togami.”

“Naegi, don’t you dare--”

Without waiting for his classmate to finish, Makoto dug in, squeezing Byakuya’s sides once again and watching as the prodigy collapsed into startled laughter.

“NahaHA! N-Nahaehehegi! Gehehet ohohoff!”

Makoto’s eyes sparkled -- Byakuya’s laugh, which he’d only heard as cynical and low chuckles before, was made up of genuine giggling and the occasional high-pithed squeal. In contrast to how he presented himself, it was loud and almost disorderly -- though, he was visibly taking great care to try and restrain himself.

“Mm, why should I get off?” the brunet mused, his intonation feigning confusion as he continued to absentmindedly knead at his classmate’s soft sides. “I mean, I think you kind of deserve this.”

“Y-yohou’re such a ch-chihihild!” the blond protested, trying in vain to pull Makoto’s hands away from his lower torso. The lucky student smirked confidently and pinched his fingers downwards, with his hands reaching Byakuya’s hips and earning a strangled squeal in return.

“I’m the child? Really?” Makoto queried skeptically. “You’re the one being so stubborn. If you just apologize to Asahina, I’ll stop.”

The prodigy gritted his teeth, still trying to restrain his laughter. “G-gohoho to hehehell!”

Makoto’s smile became a touch devious. “Fine. Let’s see where you’re most ticklish, then.”

“W-whAT--?! No, nohoho, nonono--!”

Byakuya’s pleas were lost in his mirth, washed away like sand in the waves as Makoto’s fingers darted up and dug into his armpits. The lucky student scribbled into his hollows, scratching lightly and drawing little circles with his nails. He tried not to laugh himself as Byakuya kicked slightly and arched his back.

“How’s this spot, then?” Makoto asked after a few more moments.

“Ahawfuhuhul! Stohohop!”

“Really?” Makoto hummed. “Alright, alright. Let’s try somewhere else, then.” As he spoke, he pulled his hands away from Byakuya’s armpits and brought them down to his stomach. That was the brunet’s worst spot -- any tickling there would usually get him to crumple helplessly to the floor in seconds. He wasn’t quite sure what Byakuya’s reaction would be, but he wanted to try.

Makoto allowed the prodigy a moment to breathe -- just a moment -- before kneading his stomach carefully and watching him instinctively curl inwards.

“Nahaha-- N-Nahaehegi--!” Byakuya gasped out, his laughter a touch softer but still somewhat restrained. His bright, scarlet red blush had spread to most of his face by that point, and his ears were also a touch red themselves -- he brought his hands up to try and hide it, but that proved to be difficult, as he was also trying to instinctively protect his stomach. “D-dohohon’t!”

“Don’t what?” the brunet teased, voice calmer than before.

“Nohohahat th-thehehere!” Byakuya whined back, now fully resigned to closing his eyes and “protecting” his stomach with one hand while covering his face with the other. His smile was crooked, but surprisingly not strained or painful.

“Why not? Isn’t this better than your armpits?”

“Ihit’s sohoho stupihihid!”

Makoto actually chuckled aloud at his classmate’s indignance; he steeled himself shortly after and lifted his hands back up.

“What’s stupid is the fact that you won’t apologize to Asahina. If you just promise to do that, I’ll stop.”

Byakuya took the brief respite gratefully, catching his breath and not uttering a word. His blond bangs, now disheveled, hung in front of his flushed face as he inhaled and exhaled heavily in a slow, shaky rhythm.

“Will you apologize?”

There was a beat between the two. The prodigy looked up at Makoto, his blue-grey eyes glassy but filled with his usual sardonic frost. They had a glimmer to them that echoed Makoto’s own defiance and determination.

“As if.”

Instantaneously, Makoto’s hands darted back down, latching onto Byakuya’s ribs and pinching up and down mercilessly. The prodigy outright shrieked and tossed his head backwards, squeezing his eyes shut once again and losing himself in his wobbly, borderline chaotic laughter.

“GAHAHAHA! N-NAHAEHEGIHI--!” the blond managed to gasp out eventually. His classmate was still snickering at his outburst of a reaction.

“I think I found your worst spot, Togami~”

“SH-SHUHUHUT UHUP!”

Makoto blinked a little bit at the rudeness, leaning down a bit closer to his classmate. “Now, that’s not a very nice thing to say, is it? Maybe you need to apologize to two people now.”

Byakuya had the audacity to refuse, shaking his head frantically in reply. The lucky student internally decided that he needed to be punished more as a result, and with a few quick motions he untucked Byakuya’s button-up and shoved his hands underneath, meeting the bare skin over his ribs.

“WAHAHAIT--!” Byakuya’s cackling immediately jumped in pitch, and he reacted very quickly by trying to grab Makoto’s arms and push him away. He bucked his hips and arched his back multiple times in an effort to throw the brunet off, and when that failed, he resolved to desperately holding himself, still squirming and twisting away from the touch.

“Had enough yet?” Makoto asked a few moments later, his tone somewhere between mischievous and lecturing. When Byakuya didn’t answer, he maneuvered his hands closer to the prodigy’s back, still along his ribs -- Byakuya gasped and fell into silent laughter for a moment before dissolving into cackling and frantic blabbering, rendered almost completely wordless by Makoto’s pinching and scribbling.

“IHI’M SOHOHORRY!” he yelled out after a moment, reaching up and gripping the brunet’s hoodie like his life depended on it. “PLEHEHAHASE!”

Makoto smiled triumphantly and let up almost instantly, pulling his hands out of Byakuya’s shirt and letting him breathe. The blond fell backwards and just lied down for a brief period of time, heaving and protectively covering his upper torso. His hair was an absolute mess, his neatly-pressed uniform was now wrinkled and unkempt, and his glasses were even slightly off-kilter. Makoto was almost endeared by the sight of it.

“So?” the lucky student prompted. Byakuya looked up, his usually-piercing eyes cloudy and lacking their malice.

“I s-said I’m sorry,” he mumbled, sitting upright.

“I heard you.” Makoto finally got off of Byakuya and helped him to his feet, his gentle smile returning to his expression at last. “But you still need to apologize to Asahina for what you said.”

Byakuya grumbled, fixing his glasses and then fussing with his uniform. “I know. I’ll tell her later, when she feels like speaking to me again.”

“Or you could tell me now,” a third voice chimed in, and the two boys turned to see Aoi leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

“Asahina--” Byakuya stammered out, still trying to fix his unprofessional appearance. “H-how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” the pro swimmer answered with a slight laugh, stepping away from the wall. “I didn’t know you were ticklish. You really got him, huh, Naegi?”

“I guess so,” Makoto agreed, chuckling at the way that Byakuya’s face went beet red. Aoi seemed to not be as distraught anymore, and that was a relief -- but the redness in her eyes and the stiffness in her usually-fluid posture still made the brunet’s stomach twist unpleasantly, and his mirth was cut short.

“Well,” Byakuya started, clearing his throat and snapping Makoto out of his train of thought. “I...suppose I owe you an apology.”

“It’s alright,” Aoi interrupted, flashing a small smile. “You were right, I was being too loud.”

“But I...shouldn’t have snapped.” The prodigy paused, visibly struggling with his words. “You’re not vapid, or shallow. And you’re not an idiot.”

The tension in Aoi’s shoulders dissipated, and Makoto felt his own nervousness ease as she stepped forward, closer to Byakuya.

“Thanks, Togami.”

“It’s...it’s no trouble.”

Aoi took a breath and eased into a wider, much more comfortable smile. “Besides, if you’re ever mean to me again, I know I can count on Naegi to handle it!~”

The prodigy stammered at the statement. “W-well, that’s--”

“Ooh, or, now that I know, I could even get back at you myself!”

“I don’t think so--” Byakuya started walking, hastily trying to get back to the classroom. His two peers followed, grinning.

“Maybe, Asahina,” Makoto began, “we could tag team against him!”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea! Whenever Togami’s mean to someone, we can just team up and tickle the daylights out of him until he apologizes!”

“I won’t hear of it.”

The banter continued down the hallway as the three students made their way back to class. As they walked, even Byakuya was smiling somewhat, much more at ease. Their bonds had grown a bit stronger, despite the prodigy’s outburst, and they would only grow closer as said prodigy made significant effort to be kinder.