Chapter Text
Not so long long ago, in a foreign kingdom that seemed close, called Economics, an old, raisin looking man dressed in kids clothes stood in front of a camera doing stupid trendy dances for monetary success instead of actually spending time usefully.
This funny little creature's name was Marketing.
And if anyone despised Marketing the most, it was the heir of the Togami conglomerate, Byakuya Togami.
The Togami’s weren’t just a family of wealth, they were an economical conglomerate, and as such had to promote and oftentimes involve themselves with the current media, no matter the cost they searched for the option that gave them the most attention. They found a way to be neutral and favoured by the public at the same time.
Marketing was often the job of the current heirs, to mark their importance and be headliners for the family, to grow the knowledge of the company, that along with the games was how they became the heads of family. Byakuya, whilst in the games, had taken a rather witty and reclusive approach to the situation.
He had basically flipped off marketing.
All his investments and hours were spent on day trading and making a fortune through it all, it was sustainable, and with his knowledge it made the conglomerates amount of money grow by millions. He stayed up day and night, planning and learning, becoming a money making machine that calculated in micro seconds and always made the best choice.
He had successfully won the games without losing his dignity, and never once downloading instagram, twitter, or any of those social “useless” media apps.
Of course though, as things go, all Togami’s depend on marketing.
He had plenty of employees expertly trained in day trading, though not at his level, but as he stepped up the stairs to his fathers office in the tallest tower of Togami mansion, he knew it was over.
He had very few, controlled decisions over his life, as much as it pained him to admit it. He wished his father would just pass away. Though he also did not, since that would mean he would have to begin coupling a few years later.
The concept disgusted him and he often considered eradicating it, though he knew it would be absolutely impossible to remove that tradition from the conglomerate.
He stood still, not admitting he had frozen. Togami was now in front of the large and shiny spruce wood doors, dark and full of grooves, the door’s frame was a beautiful golden pattern that made waves and spirals. There were also two, dark grey marbled pillars, exact copies of the designs for ones in ancient Greece, with decorative moldings on the top and small statuettes on the bottom. Crying angels that wrapped their nimble, weak arms around the base and beginning of the long tube, supporting it with their sorrows.
This was the entryway to his father’s office, a cold place of scolding and pain. Last he had been there, which had been a few years ago since he did not often see his father, he was hit and punched till his face was bloody and his cheeks were a beautiful charcoal peppered purple. His face tingled and withered with a burning, unsettling feeling at the reminder.
He knocked, the back of his hand hitting the freezing surface three times in a perfect four fourths rhythm. His hand was tense, palms clammy with unusual sweat sprouting from his slight nerves. He pushed the hand down the side of his pants to clean it, and as he cleared his head, turned the knob with his left, to open the door with a deafening click.
There was quiet.
Togami did not greet the man that did not care for him.
The man was tall and grim, face wrinkled like a raisin and eyes pushed deep into his skull leaving dark shadows and prominent eyebags beneath the turned off blue irises. He had always looked like his soul had been robbed of him. Platinum blond hair framed his face, polished and pinned down to his head, short to his neck.
Sakaeru Togami, the current head of the family, sat at his leather office chair, and welcomed his son, whose face he had forgotten, into the room. His voice dripped in inspiration, and slight malice.
—It’s the year 2010, right son?—
The man was smiling to himself, teeth perfectly aligned in a white line, they were far too symmetric, so much so they caused an eerie uncanny feeling to sink into anyone's chest. Except for the Togamis. For they were real men.
Byakuya nodded, though he knew the question was just rhetoric, and an introduction to his father’s new argument or point.
—We as Togami’s depend on marketing. And though you have avoided it, back then you were working for you, not for an entire company. Day trading is good enough, but marketing is necessary for us to continue being powerful. Do you comprehend this concept?—
Togami bit his tongue, holding back an insulting remark that could begin an argument, his eyes glanced back at the fireplace behind his father, his hand ran up to his face almost at instinct, cupping his own cheek.
He nodded, preferring to avoid confrontation for now.
—Do you know what is currently popular with teens? This L-G-B-T thing going around. The queers are everywhere, the rise of homosexuality’s overtaking has begun. And yet, I find this an opportunity.—
Byakuya maintained his sighs, he hadn’t even taken his left hand from the door knob, as his right remained on his face. He opened his mouth and spoke calmly and clearly.
—What is this opportunity.—
It wasn’t a question, it was a demand to state the answer. There was no option, no choice.
— You, son, like all Togami heads, are of great appearance, handsome as some say. You have your fair share of, fangirls, as the kids call them, but there must be plenty of fanboys too. Tell me, son, what is stronger than love?—
Byakuya’s face scrunched in slight horror at the thought of what his father was getting at. His father wanted him to create romantic drama for popularity, and controversies that never really closed, to give these horrible men and women something to fantasize and masturbate to at night?! He was furious as his hands left both surfaces they were on and turned to fists at his side.
—Have an “affair”, “date” a boy, I would prefer you not waste any money on buying an actor or such…what about one of your classmates at Kibougamine? You could just dispose of them afterwards, could you not? I’m sure you, son will be able to complete this challenge!—
—Father, I- —
He felt the immediate stare at his attempt to counter his father’s wishes, he zipped his mouth for he did not wish to see the fire again. That time, when his father had… When his punishment for.. When he had gotten himself into a fireplace, the brazes and ashes almost hugging his face, and the smell of toasty skin spreading, sweet and uncomfortably overwhelming.
—We don’t need you to have feelings but we need compromising things, secret dates, anything Byakuya. Our support through colorful decorations and rainbow clothes won't give us profit, we need empathy. Fake it until you make it. Or well, don’t become one of them, since we do still need heirs—
He chuckled, joking with his son's very own life like it was some sort of cheap party trick for him. His father paused, as if reconsidering his words, a pair of two fingers rubbing over his temple, but he hummed in response, speaking again firmly.
—You may be dismissed.—
Byakuya did as told, eyes a bit wider than usual and pupils small, like two stars seen from far away. As he closed the door behind him with a loud crash and the familiar sound of the cheerful click as it settled into place, his throat tightened.
It felt like he had eaten an entire cactus, prickles and spikes digging into the sides of his trachea. He struggled to breathe, his feet glued to the floor, and his hands gripping and fiddling nervously with his clothing. He moved forward slowly, down the spiral stairs and into a secluded hallway on the second floor. The journey was towards his dormitory.
He stumbled, pressing his back against a wall, and his breath became far more shallow, hiccups left his mouth as well as soft harmonies of controlled sobs, and the prickles in his throat spread over his waterlines and eyes, making him feel like going into a disgusting, snot and tear filled breakdown.
He kept walking, taking a deep inhale to cool himself off. It was fine enough, he had proven his worth multiple times and he could do it again, this was just another fun game.
But, if his dad wanted one of his classmates, who could he convince?
He closed the door behind him, taking a step into his room. There was sheet music spread like a rug on the floor, and sleek black bedsheets crumpled on the bottom of the headpiece belonging to a beautiful long bed, proper of a rich kid. He looked around, as if expecting someone or something to ambush him all of a sudden, then threw himself back first into his gigantic king bed.
He tossed around, stuffing his face into the soft silk pillows in front of him, and bit at its covering with an unusual feeling of pain, aching in his chest. He did so to keep quiet, instead of doing what he wanted to do, which was scream and cry and throw a tantrum..and maybe a few things at his window.
He felt strange.
Attacked even, it was painful just to watch as his own work to stay awake in this world of lies and colorful sleeping pills that tried to drug him into dreaming instead of doing, slowly got dragged to the depths of hell, catching fire and burning quickly like paperwork.
However, this was no time to wallow in grief, for he had to plan.
To begin, he needed to find someone in hopes peak that was positively queer, since he would rather avoid being rejected. Second, that queer person had to have some true interest in him, since his dad had prohibited him from bribing. And thirdly, that person had to be of no use to him, so that he could be disposed of afterward, and it wouldn’t be a waste.
He sunk deeper into his mattress, tossing the pillow above his head to his feet.
He knew Oowada and Kiyotaka were both faggots, they were poor at hiding it too, but it was unlikely that either of them would be interested in him since they were too busy licking the inside of eachothers mouths and grabbing their asses in class…
Leon was clearly not gay, he could be caught visibly gaping at girls in the halls, so he was out of the picture. And well, he wouldn’t even consider dating Yamada or Yasuhiro, though he doubted either of them were gay, considering Yamada liked animations and literal drawings and doodles…and Yasuhiro was a dunce.
He would not be seen with a dunce.
That left one last option, and he’d have to take the mystery mark that was Makoto Naegi. The boy was clearly straight, he stammered and blushed in front of Sayaka when they all first met, but maybe, maybe Togami could uncover something. Also, Naegi was the most bearable person in their class, so that was an added plus, and though he was relatively basic, he wasn’t disgusting like all the other previous options, none of which he would ever believably fancy.
Still, the doubt of his identity was too much to risk, so he would need intel on Naegi, and who better to ask then SHSL detective, and Naegi’s clear best friend, Kyoko Kirigiri. He could just blackmail her a slight bit, or force the answer, and if something he didn't like came out, he'd just explain to his father, and get some fag from the nearest club and call it a day.
Maybe, he could even ask Naegi, since the guy had a tendency to do stuff for others without reward.
This was a plan, a plan he could most definitely enjoy. If he was going to play a fag, he would make it as interesting as possible for him.
The media would love it.