Naegami - Responsible

One: Control

Makoto Naegi was sick of it. He was sick of the pitying looks, of the whispers in the hallway when he walked by, of the excuses everyone made for him when he missed class or locked himself in his room for days on end. Even though he knew he deserved so much worse than this.

Ever since Sayaka, people had stopped coming over to his room, or even approaching him at all. That was why he was so surprised when, at 10:00 at night, the doorbell rang.

He looked down at himself, hesitant. He hadn't showered in a week. His hair, usually tousled endearingly, was flying out in every direction, and he hadn't bothered to brush his teeth since yesterday. But whoever was on the other side of the door deserved an answer more than Makoto deserved to wallow in his own depression. Patting his hair down in a desperate attempt to look presentable and trying to force a smile, he opened the door to find the last person he had expected. His snobbish classmate, Byakuya Togami.

The taller boy wrinkled his nose at Makoto. "And here I thought it wasn't physically possible for someone to smell worse than Toko." He stepped inside Makoto's room without waiting for an invitation and closed the door behind him.

Makoto looked down, his mind racing. What was Byakuya doing here? He never bothered to interact with anyone, let alone show up at people's doors in the middle of the night. What reason could he possibly have to come to Makoto, of all people?
"Well then." Byakuya looked around the room disdainfully. "This place is – let's not mince words – a filthy pit, so I'll get to the point. I'm here about Sayaka Maizono's suicide."

Makoto's heart stopped. "What?" he asked, his voice small, vulnerable. This was the first time anyone besides the police or his family had directly approached him about it, even though it was all anyone could see when they looked at him. In some sick way it was refreshing, but it still felt wrong.

Byakuya continued. "As I understand it, though she'll never be quite the same and will require years of physical therapy to function again, she's expected to pull through. However, I doubt that this fact will make anyone more forgiving towards this." He took a slip of paper out of his pocket and showed it to Makoto.

All the blood drained from Makoto's voice. The ground seemed to drop out from underneath him. He was falling, staring off into nothingness. "Where..." he said hoarsely. "Where did you find that?"

He reached for the paper, but Byakuya pulled it away. "Tsk, tsk. You really think I'd let you have this? It is my one piece of leverage in this situation, after all."
He was right, and Makoto knew that. Because on that paper was something the police had been looking for, something her family had been desperate to find.

Sayaka's suicide note.

Makoto stared at it. The letter explaining exactly why she had jumped. Exactly why it was all Makoto's fault.

Dear Makoto,

Thank you. You've opened my eyes. You've shown me how fake everything is, how impossible my dream is, how futile chasing after it is. You showed me how much happier I could be with you.

But I can't. I'm a coward. I can't just drop out, throw away my life's dream at the drop of a hat. So I'm taking an easier way out, a more permanent one.

Don't be sad that I'm gone, okay? Because... I'll always be your assistant, right?

Love,