Naegami - Responsible

Three: Jack

Makoto slowly opened his eyes. He was in a dark room, one he didn't recognize. Dusty air illuminated by a single ray of light shining through a high window drifted past him. What the hell?

He tried to move and found that he couldn't. He was sitting in a wooden chair in some kind of basement. Tied up. Seriously, what the hell??

"Ooh, you're awake!" A familiar cackle echoed from the corner, and a familiar shape emerged. Genocide Jack? Why would she... oh. OH.

The events of yesterday came crashing back into his memory. Of course... He winced. How did I not see this coming? Toko might be over it, but there's no way Genocide Jack would take this lying down!

"When I heard that Master dumped me for you," Toko's alternate persona continued, "I thought he'd gone totally cuckoo bananas! But looking at you now..." She leaned in close, her abnormally long tongue stretching out to lick her lips. "Yes... you're a very cute boy when you're all tied up like that."

Oh... no. Makoto saw where this was going. Toko's dominant personality might be content just to fawn over cute boys, but this one had an unfortunate tendency towards murdering them. The reality that he was about to die kicked in, and he started screaming, kicking at the ropes binding his feet. More on instinct than anything else. He was already resigned to the fact. Knowing that he deserved it.

"Ooh, struggle more for me! Kyahahahaha!" Genocide Jack leaned back, gripping her sides as she was overcome with laughter. "You know that just gets me so damn fired up!"

She leaned in again, a pair of scissors glinting in her hand. "You know, I wouldn't tie up just anyone. Not my style. Scissor suspension is usually the only way I restrain my victims. But for the boy that stole Master away from me?" She let out a long, low chuckle that Makoto had never heard before, one that was somehow more unsettling than her usual unhinged cackles. "Ohoho, you deserve some special treatment before I cut you into pieces."

Genocide Jack leaned away from him, holding a pair of scissors outstretched. "Get ready for some pain, Big Mac!" she shouted, and lunged forward. Makoto closed his eyes.

Byakuya looked at his watch impatiently. Makoto had agreed to meet him in his room that morning, and now he was two hours late. That idiot. Doesn't he know we have to be seen together as a couple if we want to pull this off?

Just as he was resigning himself to checking on Makoto and making sure he hadn't overslept, his doorbell rang. "Finally," he said aloud, standing up and stretching before walking to the door.

"Master!" Toko shoved the door open the moment Byakuya turned the handle, knocking him down. She rushed in, wringing her hands with worry. "I think I killed Makoto."
Byakuya stared at her. "What."

"I didn't mean to!" she shouted. "I mean, if you really are gay, I'm okay with you dating him instead of me. But then... she came out, and when she heard what you did... I'm so sorry! I'll control her better next time, I promise!"

He was on his feet, grabbing her by the collar. "Where is he," he said in a low voice, not asking but demanding.

"U-um..." Toko pointed vaguely behind her. "When I woke up I was in the basement of an old storage facility. I came as quick as I could, but... I think it might be too late."

No!

A voice inside Byakuya, maybe his conscience, spoke up. No, that idiot simpleton can't be dead. I... I was just talking to him yesterday, and...

His grip on Toko's collar tightened. "Take me to him. Now."

She nodded vigorously. "Okay, Master." She sped down the hall with a determined urgency he'd never seen from her before. "Get in my car. It'll be faster that way."

Toko spent so much time fawning over him that it was easy to forget she was a competent human who knew how to drive, Byakuya thought distractedly as he followed her down the hall. That wasn't what was important, though. What was important was that he was concerned – genuinely concerned – about Makoto.

He'd seen pictures of gruesome murders. He'd gone over murdering Toko a million different ways in his head. The concept of death had never bothered him before now. So why was he so worried about Makoto?

Don't tell me I've actually started to care about that moron, he thought in disgust. He's just a tool to use to stop Toko from continuing to obsess over me. In fact, it's better if he ends up dead. We won't have to continue this charade, and I can play the part of a bereaved lover instead of a lovestruck fool.

But there was something different about Makoto. They rarely talked, and yet Byakuya had known exactly who he was almost since he'd met him. Before Sayaka, he had always projected this aura of happiness and hope, something that made you smile just looking at him. The thought that this boy, who never stopped trying to look for the silver lining in a hopeless situation, who had tried to befriend him even after countless attempts to push him away, could wind up dead... it made Byakuya sick.

Before he knew it he had broken into a run, chasing Toko into the school's parking lot, praying that he wasn't too late.