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Chapter Text

It was like waking up from a deep sleep.

At first, Kaito had forgotten what happened. He started to wake up without opening his eyes. He stretched his body a bit, groaning as consciousness returned. It took a moment for him to realize that he hadn't been asleep, but very much dead.

His eyes snapped open.

He was surrounded by people in scrubs- nurses, he figured- shining lights into his eyes and reading his pulse and scribbling on clipboards.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Do you remember your name?"

"Do you remember your talent?"

"Do you remember how you died?"

Yes, yes, Kaito had remembered it all. He remembered that he was the Ultimate Astronaut. He remembered that an unknown disease had torn his insides apart until he couldn't breathe anymore. He remembered how he had murdered a boy, a child just like him.

Kaito was wheeled into a hospital room, and given his own hospital bed. He had woken up in a hospital gown, but was given a fresh one. His hair fell down to his shoulders, no longer held up by gel and defying gravity. It was matted, and greasy. It felt awful.

He was allowed a shower, and when he returned to his bed, a woman had come in to explain the situation. She wasn't a nurse. She said her name was Dr. Sho, and that she was the hospital's licensed therapist.

"The killing game was a virtual simulation," she explained. "You had signed up to have your personality erased and replaced with one provided for you by the writers of Danganronpa. You were then put in a simulator where you and other characters were forced to kill each other, while the world watched." She then produced a mass amount of contracts and proof that Kaito had indeed agreed to this, but for what reason, he couldn't remember.

"I'm having trouble believing all this," Kaito admitted to her, pushing the papers back at her. "I mean, all that was virtual? The pain I felt was real, Dr. Sho. The illness was real. The crossbow was real. Dying was real."

Dr. Sho pursed her lips. "Maybe I can get someone to help me convince you."

That person, it turned out, was none other an Kaede Akamatsu.

Kaede had burst into his hospital room, and didn't give him a moment to react before pulling him into a hug. "Kaito!" she exclaimed, though it physically hurt to hear. It sounded like there was gravel caught in her throat, and his name came out as a garbled whisper.

"Woah, woah!" Kaito hugged her in return before pulling away, holding her by the shoulders to look her over. "You're...real? You're alive?!"

Kaede smiled with tears in her eyes, nodding aggressively. "I-" she coughed, and Kaito winced in sympathy.

"Hold on, don't speak. That sounds painful. Here," Kaito grabbed a dixie cup from the table beside his bed and filled it with water from the sink in the corner of the room. Kaede accepted the water with a smile and a grateful nod, taking a swig.

"I can't believe you're really here," Kaito reached out and touched her arm, to make sure. "And you're not dead? And I'm not dead?"

Kaede nodded to both questions.

Kaito rubbed his face in an attempt to wake himself up. "I can't believe it." He looked back up at Kaede. "What happened?"

Kaede gave him a sympathetic smile, reaching into her back pocket and pulling out a small flip notebook. She opened it to an empty page and started to write. Kaito watched in surprise, but it didn't take her very long to finish and hand him the notebook.

The killing game was a simulation. When you die in the game, you wake up back in the real world. I'm here, Rantaro's here, everyone's here.

Kaito blinked owlishly. "S-Seriously?! We're all okay?!"

Kaede chuckled, and the sound was low and scratchy. She wrote some more.

Okay as we possibly can be after all that. Dr. Sho will do a better job explaining it, but Danganronpa was a tv show, and we were its cast of characters.

"That is...so fucked up," Kaito admitted, glancing back up at her after reading from the notebook. "We were characters?!"

Kaede nodded. I know it's hard to believe, but it's true. I've been watching the game this whole time, Kaito. I saw what happened to you. I'm so sorry, it was so hard to watch and be unable to help you at all.

"No, no, don't apologize. I'm just happy everyone's really okay," Kaito said.

Kaede smiled. Then, she opened her mouth, and tried to speak. Her voice was quiet and strained, but she seemed determined to talk anyway. "They're all happy you're okay, too."

Kaito smiled, but the expression started to waver. "So, then, Kokichi," he finally ripped off that particular bandage. "If all of you are okay, then that means..."

Kaede fell silent, her fingers playing nervously with the strings on her hospital gown. "U-Uh...he's..."

"Kaede," suddenly, he was feeling nervous. He propped himself up further in the bed, wincing at the pain in his chest. "Is he okay?"

"I should explain some things," Kaede said carefully, sitting down on the side of Kaito's bed. He scooted over to give her some room, and she had to clear her throat and drink from her cup before continuing.

"If your voice is hurting too much-"

"No," she hoarsely cut him off, shaking her head. "This is important, and someone has to tell you about it." She cleared her throat again, flinching. Her cheeks were turning bright red, and it was clear the effort was taking a lot out of her. After a moment, she decided to set her cup down and pick up the small notebook again. "It'll be easier if I-"

"Go ahead. I can wait."

Kaede nodded and started write quickly. Kaito's eyes widened as she had to flick the page upwards and continue on the next one. "Woah."

Kaede nodded with a small grimace, handing the notebook over to Kaito.

There's a reason I can barely talk, and your chest still hurts. The reigning theory is that however we died in the killing game effected our bodies out here. Miu has the same problem as me, her vocal chords are all messed up. Ryoma's on an inhaler now. Even Rantaro is having memory issues. Not the same as before, we think his brain may have been damaged in the real world when he got hit in the head in the killing game.

"So, even though it was all virtual, we still got fucked over?" Kaito asked, looking back up at her with a snarl. Kaede winced but nodded. "That's...that's...!" Kaito trailed off, eyes widening. "So, Kokichi...he was..."

Kaede gave Kaito a sad look, but didn't respond verbally.

"Kaede, I crushed him!" Kaito exclaimed, lurching forward to grab her by the arm. She tensed up under his grip, but he continued to ramble. "I-I crushed him under the press! Flat! How did that effect him in the real world?! Is he even alive, Kaede?!"

What a hypocrite. Praying for someone to be alive when you already had decided to kill them.

"Kaito," Kaede grabbed his hand in an attempt at a comforting gesture, her voice sounding like she was gargling nails. "It's hard for me...to explain. Maybe it's...better if you...just see him," she said, having to take a pause frequently to clear her throat.

"Okay, okay, just stop hurting yourself to explain this to me," Kaito insisted. "Can you...can you take me to him?"

Kokichi was in bed, intact and very much not flattened. He was, however, completely unconscious, and hooked up to many different machines. An IV ran into his arm, and a mask was over his mouth and nose to keep him breathing. The heart monitor was loud, and slightly irregular. And Kokichi himself...he was pale. Too pale. He looked like a ghost, with his dark purple hair curtaining his face like a dark halo, splayed out on the pillow in a greasy, tangled mess. A blanket covered him all the way up to his chest, but his hands sat outside it, twitching minutely. His chest rose and fell shakily with every breath forced into his lungs.

Kaito stood in the doorway, eyes wide, too afraid to move. Kaede gently took him by the hand to lead him inside.

When he got up to his bedside, it only looked worse. Kokichi's eyes were shut and gave no sign of opening, but the bags underneath them were deep, creating what looked like dark craters in his skull. Through the mask, Kaito could see Kokichi's pale, chapped lips, parted and weakly trembling. Kaito reached out a hand, but halted it before it ever made contact with Kokichi's skin. He didn't want to face what he had done. Not fully.

"I...this is my fault," Kaito whispered, and Kaede started frantically shaking her head.

"N-No, Kaito, it's their-"

"Kaede, stop," Kaito said sternly. "You'll only hurt yourself."

Kaede looked like she wanted to say more, but her mouth still shut.

"It is my fault," Kaito insisted, finding it easier to look at Kaede than his victim. "I'm the one who decided to kill him."

Kaede's eyes pinched in a pained, guilty look. She shook her head again, and pointed at Kokichi.

"He didn't make me do anything," Kaito said. "He couldn't. He was too weak to force me to do anything for me. I agreed to do it because I'm...I'm a murderer."

Kaede's eyes were watering now, and Kaito couldn't bear to look at her any further. Instead, he trained his eyes on the ground. "I killed him in the most gruesome way possible. I destroyed his body. It's because of me that he's like...this," he motioned to the bed without looking at it. Maybe he would have continued talking, to admitting his guilt, but the door behind them suddenly opened.

"Oh."

Kaede and Kaito turned around, and Kaito's eyes widened in shock. For a moment, his body completely froze.

"I didn't expect anyone to visit him," Rantaro Amami, alive, admitted from the doorway. His eyes fell on Kaito, and he gave a small, familiar smile, tinged with exhaustion. "Hey, Kaito. It's good to see you."

Kaito's mouth opened, but it took a second for words to come out. "Oh my god."

Rantaro chuckled, shrugging. "Yeah. I've gotten that reaction before."

Kaito's head whipped between Kaede and Rantaro. Obviously, the fact that they had woken up from a virtual world insinuated that Rantaro was alive, but to see him in person, standing and talking, it...

"Oh, Kaito," Rantaro's eyebrows pinched, and he held his hands up placatingly.

Kaito sniffed and realized he had started to tear up. He quickly swiped at the tears with his sleeve. "Get over here, man."

Rantaro smiled again, walking into the room and accepting the giant bear hug from Kaito. He chuckled, rubbing his back comfortingly. "It's really good to see you, Kaito."

"It's...oh my god," Kaito pulled away, hands planted on Rantaro's shoulders. "It's so great to see you. How are you, how's your...?" Kaito trailed off, glancing at Rantaro's head. Rantaro only chuckled.

"Yeah, it's okay. I mean, I've been having some memory issues. If I start to space out, just ignore it," he waved his hand. "I'll come back eventually. I'm alive, and you're alive, and that's all that matters."

Kaito nodded, his smile still grim and wobbly with tears. Then, finally, he felt the courage to turn around and face Kokichi. "You came to visit him?"

Rantaro nodded, stepping beside Kaito to look over Kokichi's body. "I thought I was the only one. He came out of the simulation a day before you did," Rantaro explained, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "But he didn't wake up. After a couple minutes, when the doctors weren't able to rouse him, they rushed him to life support," he explained, eyes not leaving Kokichi's prone body. "That was only yesterday. They say they aren't sure when he'll wake up. Or...if he'll wake up."

Kaito grit his teeth, glaring at the white tile floor. "He has to."

Rantaro put a hand on Kaito's shoulder. "We saw the whole trial, Kaito. We know what happened. How he...sacrificed himself to end the killing game."

"And how I failed at his plan," Kaito added, voice tight. He felt Kaede saddle up next to him and take his hand. He gave it a squeeze as if he were the one comforting her. "It's my fault he's like this now."

For a moment, his companions said nothing, both keeping a hand on him as if holding him stable.

"Kokichi was a bratty little gremlin," Rantaro finally said. Kaito and Kaede's heads snapped towards him, shocked, but he wore a fond smile. "He always gets what he wants. You know that, Kaito."

Kaito's shoulders relaxed when he realized what Rantaro was trying to say. Then, his lips pulled back into a wobbly smile. "He is a brat, isn't he?"

"If you can hear us, Kokichi," Rantaro turned to the bed. "We only say this 'cause you're a weird kid who would probably take the word 'bratty' as a compliment."

Kaito barked out a laugh, his grip on Kaede's hand tightening. "He would."

Slowly but surely, Kaito got to see the others. Some came to him, like Gonta, Angie, and surprisingly Tenko. Gonta had given him a huge hug, his form significantly weaker than it had been before. During the hug, Kaito could feel the gaps in his chest where he had to get two ribs surgically removed, after being permanently damaged by the game. Angie had come with Gonta, saying she was thankful for his return to the real world. Kaito had been surprised that she hadn't mentioned Atua yet when she brought up the fact that Atua was a made-up god, created for her character in Danganronpa. When she awoke, she could hear no "god"'s voice in her head. She clearly was conflicted by the news that her god wasn't real, but she hid it behind her usual carefree smile.

Tenko had been a surprise visit. She said that she needed to apologize for the way she treated men in the game. "I really don't hate men," she admitted while sitting on the edge of his hospital bed. "I'm gay, and I guess the writers of Danganronpa took that to the extreme. I never should have insulted you and the rest of the boys as much as I did." Kaito accepted her apology with seriousness before laughing along with her at the silly traits the writers of Danganronpa gave them.

"I have no right to blame you," Kaito had chuckled. "All that 'hero' 'sidekick' nonsense must have been annoying as fuck. I'm sorry you all had to deal with it."

It was the truth, he realized. He hadn't noticed it immediately, but after waking up, he found himself surprisingly annoyed by his personality in the killing game. Seriously? The writers had to make him so full of himself that he constantly called himself a hero, and all his friends sidekicks?

He made a reminder to apologize to everyone about that.

Tojo had also come to visit, which was another surprise. She bowed at the waist and issued a formal apology for trying to get everyone killed. Kaito waved her off, saying that she did what she thought was for the good of the country. How could he possibly hold that against her?

Not to mention, he couldn't stay mad at her as her entire body trembled through the bow, as she clutched onto a pair of crutches holding her up. Her legs had been permanently damaged, and she admitted she may never walk correctly again.

Kaito saw a few others around, as he made trips to the dining hall and the courtyard. Miu and Ryoma seemed to keep to themselves for the most part, but still greeted Kaito all the same, claiming they were happy to see him. Their personalities were similar to their in-game characters, just a bit more lowkey, which seemed to be the trend with everyone. Miu was still full of sexual innuendos, but really never drooled or moaned to the weird, uncomfortable extent that the game had her do. Ryoma was still quiet and laidback, but he seemed less grizzled than before. Maybe it was because of the realization that he had never actually killed anybody.

Korekiyo was still bedridden with severe burns to his skin. Kaito hadn't gotten to see him yet, but according to Kaede...it wasn't good. He woke up disgusted with himself. Turns out, the whole incest-victim-turned-serial-killer had just been an arc added to his character, and had nothing to do with him in real life. According to Kaede, he was physically revolted by himself, even though all those disgusting traits were forced onto him by the writers. She said it was probably going to take a lot of therapy to undo the damage the Danganronpa writers did to Korekiyo.

Kaito said it was going to take a lot of therapy for them all.

The nurses tried to keep him in bed as much as possible, but as long as Kaito was regularly taking the medicine to help with the residual illness, he actually felt pretty good. He was thankful for dying of the disease in the game rather than one of Monokuma's executions. It seems he may have gotten off relatively easy, at least in comparison to some others.

Kokichi's had it the worst. A few days in the hospital, and he still hadn't woken up from his coma. Kaito visited his room as much as possible, sitting beside his bed and turning on the killing game on the tv mounted on the wall. He watched as his sidekicks- he shuddered as he instinctively thought of them that way, and quickly amended- his friends stumbled their way through investigating the school. Realistically, it was looking as if the killing game may end soon, and he would finally be reunited with his friends.

He turned to Kokichi. Turns out, the kid left a ton of clues for the survivors to find, even after his death. The kid was a damn genius, of that Kaito had no doubt.

He would spend hours watching over Kokichi, wondering when he'll wake up. When Kaito had woken up, the 'hero' schtick seemed cheesy and dumb in retrospect. He wondered if Kokichi would feel similarly about the 'villain' role he had took on.

The mastermind was Shirogane. The reveal to Kaito was honestly pretty anticlimactic. After visiting Kokichi for the first time, Rantaro had explained why he and Kaede got along surprisingly well.

"Oh, that's 'cause she didn't actually kill me."

"W-What?!" Kaito had exclaimed. Rantaro smiled, but there was something bitter behind it.

"Yeah, her shot put ball missed. It hit the ground. I went to go pick it up, and when I looked up, I saw Tsumugi swinging at my head with another shot put ball. I woke up knowing she killed me, and then when I watched as Kaede was executed for my murder anyway, I figured she was the mastermind. I've been telling everyone who's woken up, so we're all on track."

Kaito recited the story back to Kokichi later, just in case the boy happened to be able to hear everything that was going on.

If not, he'll just tell him when he woke up.

Kokichi didn't get many other visitors. Rantaro was a pretty regular one, regaling Kaito with tales of their antics before he had been murdered. He told him how Kokichi had been such a laidback, fun-loving prankster back then, before the killing game drove him to the point of suicidal paranoia. "It may just be the 'older brother complex' that was given to me by the writers," Rantaro admitted. "But I kind of saw him as my mischievous little brother." His smile slipped ever so slightly. "Watching the game...seeing the way he warped into this angry, desperate 'villain'... it was hard to watch."

Kaito had honestly forgotten about Kokichi at the beginning of the game, how he insisted on getting piggy-back rides, on how he called everyone his underlings and subordinates (not unlike how Kaito would refer to them as sidekicks). However, murder after murder, Kokichi had changed.

And it left him like this.

Sometimes, Kaede would join them, but it seemed more for Kaito's benefit than Kokichi's. She had no ill will towards the boy. I saw what he tried to do. He's a good kid, in the end, she had written on her tiny notebook. And obviously, she was rooting for his recovery. However, she focused most of her attention on Kaito, writing and occasionally whispering encouraging words and insisting that Kokichi's condition was not his fault.

Kaito knew better, though. Obviously this was his fault. For hours he would sit, thinking about better ways he could have ended Kokichi's misery. He could have put a hand over his mouth and suffocated him before putting him under the press. He could have used a crossbow arrow to hit an artery, before putting him under the press. Hell, he could've let the Strike 9 finish doing its thing before putting him under the press! It's not like Monokuma would have known! Why did Kaito go along with Kokichi's insane plan to be crushed to death?! The plan would have worked equally as well if he was killed by Kaito in literally any other way, and then just got crushed postmortem. If he had done anything like that, Kokichi may already be awake by now.

Sure, hindsight is twenty-twenty. Sure, Kaito didn't know that Kokichi was going to have the possibility of waking up after death. But even if he hadn't known, he still could have killed Kokichi in a more humane way. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like to be crushed to death. To have a hydraulic press push down on you and pop you like a bag of blood, obliterating all your bones into dust on the way down.

When he thought about that, Kaito threw a hand over his mouth, and Rantaro was quick enough to grab a garbage can and shove it under his chin. When he was done throwing up whatever little food was inside him anyway, he sat back with a disgusted look, reserved only for himself.

I really am a monster, he decided. And there was nothing anybody could say to convince him otherwise.

Kokichi was still asleep when the killing game ended.

Kaito had been sitting at his side, watching the trial from his hospital room. He watched as Rantaro's theory was proven true, and Tsumugi admitted to being the mastermind. He watched as Shuichi fiercely declined the options he was given: hope or despair. Admittedly, Kaito would have chosen hope every time, but his once-sidekick had made some interesting points. Kaito had subconsciously reached out and latched onto Kokichi's cold hand as he watched the audience from the screen ridicule this "show".

He had known for a few days now that the entire game was for the world's entertainment, but he was sheltered behind hospital walls and protective nurses. He really hadn't seen just what the world thought of Danganronpa until it all came to light on the tv screen.

As Kiibo began to destroy the academy, Kaito slowly rose to his feet, Kokichi's hand slipping from his grasp. The screen flashed and went to white.

He had to go find his-

The door to Kokichi's room slammed open, and Rantaro was panting hard, as if he had been running.

"They're waking up."

The two of them rushed down the hallways, to the room where the simulation took place. It seemed the rest of Kaito's classmates had beaten him there, waiting eagerly outside the door. Kaede took his hand without hesitation, looking up at him eagerly.

"I can't believe it's really over," Kaito exhaled with relief.

The nurses refused to let them in, but Kaito got a glimpse of them as the three survivors of Danganronpa V3 were quickly wheeled out of there on gurneys, to their own respective hospital rooms. The classmates chattered over each other, trying to get a word in edgewise. Kaito just watched with wide eyes as Maki's exhausted gaze turned to him. Her eyes widened when they made eye contact, but it was quickly broken as the nurses wheeled her away.

"They're just getting checked over by the nurses," Rantaro announced to the clamoring group of teenagers. "We'll be able to see them soon, I'm sure. The rest of us had to go through the same thing."

"It's over, I can't believe it's finally over!" Tenko exclaimed, excitedly shaking Tojo's arm. Tojo smiled calmly, even as Tenko's excitement threatened to knock her from her crutches.

"I suppose it finally is. All that's left now is to recover and leave this hospital for good," she added.

Ryoma scoffed, absentmindedly fiddling with his inhaler as habitually as he had with those candy cigarettes. "Good riddance, Danganronpa."

"Hear, hear," Tojo nodded.

"Then we've all got to do our best to recover quickly!" Kaito said. "We won't let these bastards hold onto us for a second longer. They got their killing game, now it's time to move on!"

The classmates agreed noisily, and Kaito grinned, feeling proud that his ability to make inspiring speeches hadn't disappeared when he woke up from the game. He turned to Rantaro and gave his sleeve a little tug, pulling his attention.

"Listen," Kaito kept his voice low. "I need you to come let me know the second we're allowed to see them."

"Where are you going?" Rantaro cocked his head.

"Someone's gotta tell Kokichi what's going on."

Kaito returned to Kokichi's room alone. When he opened the door, Kokichi was still in the same spot, hooked up to all these machines keeping him alive. Kaito sighed. He wasn't sure what he was expecting. The killing game ending had nothing to do with Kokichi waking up from his coma.

But Kaito may have gotten his hopes up.

He wandered into the room and realized he had left the tv on in his wake. The screen had went grey once the broadcast had ended. With a smirk, Kaito picked up the remote and switched off the tv, reveling in the silence. Then, he turned back to Kokichi.

"Hey, man," he said, sitting down with a tired grunt. "Sorry for leaving you so quickly like that. I'm not sure if you heard anything that's going on, or if you can even hear this, but Shuichi did it. He ended the killing game. We're all back."

Kokichi was motionless. Kaito smiled sadly.

"I only got to see those three for a second, but it was amazing. They looked so tired, but they're alive, Kokichi. It may not have been exactly what you planned, but everyone came out of it okay. So you can rest easy now, alright?"

Unsurprisingly, Kaito did not get a response. His eyebrows furrowed as he realized an inconsistency with his statement.

"Huh. I actually don't know if everyone is okay. They didn't take Tsumugi out of the simulation room with the rest of them."

Where is Tsumugi?

"I'll be honest with you," Kaito leaned back in his chair, smirking at the irony of the word 'honest'. "I'm not sure if I care what happened to her. At least, not right now. After everything she put us through, she deserves whatever's coming to her."

More silence from the hospital bed.

"At least, for right now. I'd like to know what happened to her eventually, but for right now I can just be satisfied knowing that all my friends are okay."

Silence.

"Well, most of them."

Silence. Kaito sat up and reached across the bed, grabbing Kokichi's hand.

"I need you to wake up, Kokichi. The killing game is over. Our suffering can finally end. So please. You're the last one. Wake up."

Silence.

"Wake up."

Silence.

Kaito sighed, letting his head hang loose on his neck. "I don't know why I thought that would work."

Kokichi's hand twitched in his grasp. Kaito peeked back up at the boy on the bed.

And he saw two violet eyes, open and staring at the ceiling.

Chapter Text

Kaito was struck frozen, staring at Kokichi. The presumed-comatose boy had opened his eyes, but they were glassy and glazed-over, as if in a trance.

"Holy shit," Kaito scooted closer to Kokichi's bed, leaning over eagerly but not wanting to startle the poor boy. "Kokichi, can you hear me? Are you awake?"

Kokichi's eyes blinked once, twice, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Then, suddenly, the heart monitor let out a horrifying alarm as his heart rate skyrocketed. Kokichi's eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his body tensed under the blanket. He began to tremble violently, and Kaito screamed, standing up abruptly and knocking over his chair.

Kokichi's body twitched aggressively as his back arched against the bed. It looked like he was possessed, and apparently that wasn't a fear added to his character, because Kaito was freaking the fuck out.

Apparently, the alarm alerted the nurses, who came barreling into the room. Kaito watched wide-eyed as they surrounded Kokichi, two nurses grabbing Kaito by the arm and ushering him out of the room.

The door slammed shut in his face, and all Kaito could do was stare at it.

In a couple of chairs left outside of Kokichi's room, Kaito had been sitting and thinking, his knee bouncing anxiously. Kaede sat at his side, one hand resting on top of his, eyes trained to the ground. Rantaro sat on the other side, pinching his chin and furrowing his eyebrows.

No one had come out of Kokichi's room in a while.

Kaito's knee bouncing had started getting violent, and Kaede pressed her hand down on his thigh to keep him from jostling the chairs too much.

Finally, after way too damn long, the door opened, and a man in scrubs stepped out. The three teenagers sat up in their seats.

"It was a grand mal seizure," he said, launching right into the explanation. "We suspect that it's his body's reaction to the simulation. He's safe for now, but unconscious again. We're not sure to take this as a sign he may wake up soon, but the possibility is there."

Kaito sighed, all the weight and tension dropping from his body, leaving only lingering exhaustion.

"Thanks, doctor," Rantaro spoke for all three of them. "So, can we go in and check on him?"

The doctor nodded in response, stepping aside to allow them access to the door. Rantaro gave Kaito a little nudge, and all three teens stood up and went inside.

The nurses and technicians were starting to filter out of the room now that Kokichi was stable. He looked the same as before, much to Kaito's dismay. His face was still pale, and now had a new, blue-ish tint to it. Kaito pointed it out with concern, but a nurse quickly told him that it is a common symptom after a grand mal seizure. Kokichi was still hooked up to the same machinery, the heart monitor beeping out an irregular pattern. He was alive, but clearly not doing well.

Kaito reached out and gently brushed his fingers against Kokichi's arm, as if to make sure he was really alive. Kaede put a supportive hand on his back. Kaito wasn't sure how long he stood there, watching Kokichi's chest rise and fall with each weak, shuddering breath. It must have been a long time, though, because once Rantaro broke the silence, all the nurses and technicians had left the room.

"I know you probably don't want to leave his side, especially after that," he said. "But do you want to take a break and go check on Shuichi, Maki, and Himiko?"

Kaito sighed deeply, lowering his head. He absolutely wanted to stay by Kokichi's side. There wasn't much that could pull him away. But he needed to see his sideki- his friends. He still wasn't one hundred percent certain they were alright.

"Let's go."

The three of them walked quickly down the hallway, Kaito's brain focused on a new purpose. When they finally made it to the examination rooms of the survivors, they found the rest of their classmates waiting outside.

"How is Kokichi?" Kirumi asked politely. The rest of the class didn't know much, just that a commotion was happening outside Kokichi's room that drew Rantaro and Kaede's attention away from the survivors.

"Not great. Still comatose," Rantaro answered.

"How are the survivors?" Kaede asked in return, her voice still hoarse. Kirumi turned to glance back at the doors.

"We still haven't been allowed in."

"I don't know what's taking so fuckin' long," Miu scoffed, her voice just as hoarse as Kaede's. "I-" her sentence broke off into a cough. Kirumi tutted and rubbed her back.

"I told you not to speak as much," she warned, leaning her body weight onto one crutch. "You can't expect your vocal cords to heal if you keep overusing them."

"Gonta can go get some water for Miu," Gonta offered, wringing his large hands together anxiously. "A-And Kaede, if she needs."

Kaede shook her head and waved off the offer, deciding against a verbal response.

"It is strange that they're taking so long to release the survivors," Kirumi noted. "Since they did not die in the simulation, I cannot imagine what health issues they may be having."

"Who knows, maybe graduating the game messed with them in some way," Ryoma grumbled, leaning against the wall and fidgeting with his inhaler. "Or the Team Danganronpa nurses are just being assholes and won't let us see our friends."

Kaito grit his teeth in anger. "Damn it!" With Kokichi's condition, Kaito had enough on his plate to worry about. Now he wasn't allowed to see his two best friends?

"Don't worry, Kaito, I'm sure Maki is going to fight to be able to see you," Rantaro smiled. "I'm sure we'll see them any minute."

On that coincidentally well-timed note, the door to Maki's room slammed open. The class jumped, struck silent. All they could do was watch as Maki hovered in the doorway, her red eyes glowing with their intimidating stare, her face shadowed by her long hair that was down from its usual pigtails, trailing behind her like a dramatic waterfall. Behind her, they could see the bodies of nurses- breathing but clearly knocked unconscious. Maki herself barely spared her classmates a passing glance, immediately turning on her heel and breaking into the next room over- Himiko's room.

Kaito sat slack-jawed, watching as Maki knocked the nurses in that room unconscious and left without saying a word. Shaking nervously, Himiko poked her head out and looked around in surprise. Maki was already at the third door, slamming it open with her foot and dealing with the nurses in Shuichi's room.

With her work completed, Maki stepped out of Shuichi's room and finally looked at the rest of her classmates, hands planted on her hips. Shuichi and Himiko shakily emerged from their respective rooms, staring wide-eyed at the rest of their class. Everyone was silent, not really sure how to handle this situation.

"Are you real?" Maki asked sternly, unwavering in the face of her presumed-dead friends. Everyone wilted with relief, and Kaito offered a tired smile.

"Yeah, Maki Roll. We're real."

The three survivors of Danganronpa gave each other hesitant looks. Then, all three of them surged forward.

"I can't believe you're alive!" Himiko was already crying, throwing herself into Tenko's arms. The former neo-aikido master's face turned bright red, and she nervously hugged her back.

"You're real! You're really here!" Shuichi exclaimed, standing in front of Kaede and Rantaro as if they were visions, holding his hands out hesitantly. Rantaro chuckled, tilting his head and reaching out to grab Shuichi's hand.

"Yeah, we really are."

Maki bee-lined to Kaito, staring wide-eyed up at him, as if still not believing it. Kaito smirked and placed a confident hand on top of her head, giving her hair a little ruffle. Her shoulders jumped to her ears, and she curled under his touch, but the small smile tugging at her lips told Kaito that she enjoyed it.

"Good to see ya, Maki Roll."

Her cheeks turned red. "Good to see you too, Kaito."

"I suppose explanations are necessary?" Kirumi asked as Gonta helped her up from her chair, propping herself up on her crutches. Shuichi blinked in surprise, then looked around to take in the sorry state of the rest of the class.

"Y-Yeah, I think so."

"But before that, should we do something about them?" Rantaro asked, pointing at the unconscious nurses.

"We should escape from here. It shouldn't be a problem for me," Maki said, but Kaito held up his hands.

"Woah, woah, slow your roll, Maki Roll. We can't leave yet, some of us are in no state to leave the hospital."

Himiko was still clinging to Tenko's arm, much to the other girl's surprise. "W-We're in a hospital?"

Kirumi nodded. "We all woke up here after we...died in Danganronpa. The nurses of Team Danganronpa have been taking care of all of us. The only person we aren't sure of the status of is Tsumugi. She did not return with the rest of you."

"And Kiibo!" Miu exclaimed in a raspy voice, causing all three survivors to wince in sympathy. "He never left the-"

"Miu, I insist you rest your voice," Kirumi scolded before turning back to Shuichi, Himiko, and Maki. "But she is not wrong. I presume that because he was an AI created by Danganronpa, there is no real-world alternative."

Miu looked devastated, but said nothing. The three survivors gave each other mourning looks.

"We saw everything that happened," Gonta spoke up. "Gonta not sure-" he cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm not sure about what happens after, but I think we're done with the killing game for good now."

"Gonta, you...sound different," Shuichi pointed out.

"Gonta- uh I still struggle trying to break the speech pattern the writers gave me," Gonta explained, clearly struggling. Tenko smiles sympathetically.

"I have the same problem. We've been working together to break it, though. Kirumi's been really helpful."

Kirumi shrugged humbly. "Thanks to all the training they gave my character, I do have pretty extensive knowledge of speech therapy."

Maki, Shuichi, and Himiko looked around at their classmates like they were all ghosts. Which, they very well could be. Kaito shot the unconscious nurses a cautious look.

"Maybe...we should have this conversation in the cafeteria."

They all fit on one long table. Their entire class, sans Kokichi, Korekiyo, Tsumugi, and Kiibo. Kaito sat with Shuichi on one side, and Maki on the other. Both of them kept shooting him nervous glances, as if they couldn't believe he was real. He would return the looks with a confident smile. The class had barricaded themselves in, pushing tables up against the two doors on either side of the cafeteria. No hospital staff had come chasing after them yet, but they had no clue how long that would last.

"Okay, so," Rantaro sighed as he sat down beside Kaede, across the table from them. He clasped his hands together and looked around at the group before speaking up. "We're alive."

Shuichi smiled, but it looked like he might cry.

"We were watching the game from here, so we know you know all about Danganronpa," Kirumi said. "You know that we are, in fact, characters for a popular killing game show."

The three survivors nodded uncomfortably.

"From what we understand now, we maintained part of those personalities when we left the simulation," Kirumi looked around to make sure the rest agreed. "For example, I know I am not a maid, or a prime minister, but I still feel the urge to be useful."

"Gonta- I don't actually love bugs all that much," Gonta raised his hand. "I still remember everything I knew about them, but I actually don't need to be 'friends' with them. Also, trying to break that speech pattern they gave me."

"It's like we still have our in-game knowledge and personalities, but we aren't Ultimate anything anymore," Kaito surmised. Maki nodded.

"Makes sense. That explains why I was able to so easily knock out those guards. Nurses?"

"Nurses," Kaito confirmed with a nod.

"So, it's..." Shuchi looked around hesitantly. "Okay for us to stay? It's safe?"

Kaito cringed. He honestly wasn't sure how to answer that. After all, these nurses worked for the psychos that created Danganronpa V3. But on the other hand, most of the classmates are in desperate need for medical attention, and a daring escape may be near impossible in this state.

The character Kaito Momota would have laughed boisterously at that, saying that the impossible is possible, but... the simulation was over. Sometimes, shit was just impossible, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Safer than trying to fend for ourselves right now," he admitted, crossing his arms. "We have no idea what the outside world is like. They may be furious at us for ruining the killing game the way we did."

"Or, they may adore us," Kirumi added. "They may think of us as celebrities, and it would be hard to stay low profile."

"Either way, we're not sure what's going to happen once we're released from the hospital," Rantaro concluded. "All we know is for now, staying in the hospital will keep us out of the public eye for a little while longer, while we gather our bearings and find out what's next."

"I highly doubt Team Danganronpa is just going to let us go," Maki scoffed, crossing her arms skeptically. "No one has said anything about what life will be like after the game?"

The victims and killers all shook their heads. "We've tried to ask," Rantaro said. "They tell us just to focus on healing, for right now."

"Okay, but we don't have any injuries to heal," Maki nodded towards her fellow survivors. "What do you think they were planning on doing to us, once we got out of the simulation?"

"We probably would have figured that out if you hadn't knocked the nurses unconscious," Ryoma mumbled. Maki shot him a glare, but he raised his hands defensively, despite still speaking relatively monotone. "Not judging. Just stating a fact."

"Okay, so we probably don't have long before the rest of the hospital staff realize we broke out," Shuichi said. "And we don't know what's going to happen to us," he motioned to the other survivors. "I can't imagine they're all that happy with us right now."

"Yeah, we ruined their game and then knocked out their guards," Himiko mumbled, wringing her hands nervously. "Do you think we're going to get in trouble?"

"We already are in trouble," Maki scoffed. "We're screwed. We need a plan."

"There's no plan," Rantaro held up his hand before the conversation could spiral.

"Agreed. Many of us still rely on the hospital. Not to mention the contracts we signed pretty much forbid us from leaving legally," Kirumi added.

"I don't have a problem with breaking the law," Maki stated with a shake of her head.

"Sure, but we all can't just leave," Rantaro said. "Some of us are in no state to leave."

"Yeah, um," Shuichi spoke up. "I-I noticed that...not everyone's here with us right now."

"And that's a problem?" Maki scoffed. "We don't need them."

"Maki," Shuichi sighed, exhausted.

"What?!" she exclaimed. "We're missing the serial killer, the mastermind, and that crazy liar." She shifted in her seat. "The only one worthy of missing is Kiibo." 

"If I may," Kirumi raised a finger. "I can't speak on the state of Tsumugi right now, none of us are quite sure where she is. Korekiyo remains in solitude. He woke up from the simulation with debilitating burns and has hardly been able to interact with us."

"Yeah, but, isn't he a serial killer?" Himiko asked, her eyes cautiously flashing towards Angie and Tenko.

Ryoma shook his head. "Not in real life. He's no more a killer than me or Maki."

Maki's eyes widened, and she stiffened. Kaito glanced over at her. She must have only just realized what it meant, no longer being the Ultimate Assassin. She had never killed anyone.

"I didn't think of that," Himiko mumbled, shifting awkwardly in her seat. "So...he's not a bad guy?"

The victims of V3 cringed. "From what I understand," Kirumi tried to keep her tone as neutral as possible. "The incestuous relations with his sister and the subsequent serial killing was all implanted by Team Danganronpa."

"He was just a guy," Rantaro shrugged. "An unlucky guy, who got stuck with a shitty, shitty character."

The survivors awkwardly glanced at each other. They hadn't thought of that. And without Korekiyo here, in front of them, it was hard to imagine him as anything other than the creepy killer Danganronpa had turned him into.

"We hope he'll get out more soon," Tenko spoke up. "But, uh... I don't know if that will be any time soon."

Angie awkwardly scratched at her arm, leaving red claw marks in her wake. She didn't seem to notice. Tenko looked equally uncomfortable, as if she had just told a lie. Kaito couldn't imagine either of them jumping at the opportunity to make amends with their killer, even if the man in the hospital is nothing like the man in the game.

"They really set him up for failure, huh?" Kaito sighed, bowing his head slightly. "A crazy serial killer would never make it through an entire killing game."

"Never say never," Rantaro mumbled under his breath, referencing something that Kaito didn't know.

"Korekiyo has a lot of healing to do," Kirumi stated. "Physically, and psychologically, before he could even imagine leaving this place."

"And..." Shuichi spoke up, loudly at first, but quickly trailing off when everyone's attention snapped towards him. He wrung his hands together, hesitating to ask. Kaito knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. "What about Kokichi?"

Everyone at the table stiffened, and their heads snapped towards Kaito. Shuichi, Maki, and Himiko's eyebrows all raised in surprise, and they followed their gaze.

"Kaito?" Shuichi questioned.

Kaito opened his mouth to answer, but Maki's hand slammed down on the table before he could.

"Who cares?!" she snapped. "Do you remember what he did to us in the game?!"

"But remember, we found out he was lying to try to end the killing game," Shuichi pointed out.

"He's the reason Kaito died!" Maki spat. "And Gonta, and Miu! Or do you not care about that?!"

"Of course I care about that! But holding that against him, that would be no worse than holding Kirumi or Kaede's crimes against them!" Shuichi exclaimed. "We were characters, manipulated into killing! That's all!"

"Kokichi is not the reason I died," Kaito spoke up, voice quiet. Despite the low volume, however, all the attention was immediately turned to him. Slowly, he glanced over at Maki. It wasn't an angry look, but it was stern. "I was sick. That is what killed me."

"No!" Maki snapped, slamming both her hands on the table and standing up abruptly. "He killed you!"

"No, I killed him!" Kaito yelled, rising to his feet as well, towering over her, fists clenched at his sides. "I crushed him in the hydraulic press! I didn't even leave a body behind! He suffered, he died, he was destroyed because of me!" Kaito pretended not to hear the break in his voice at that last part. "Stop pretending that I'm the victim! You were there for the trial, you know! I'm the killer! I'm the killer!"

Maki's eyes frantically searched Kaito's, as if waiting for an explanation as to why he was defending his rival. She may have been furious, but the remainders of a heartbreak were hard to hide in her expression.

"He lied to us, he drove us to despair-"

"Korekiyo's locked away, driven mad by the character Team Danganronpa turned him into!" Kaito yelled, pointing his finger in the direction of Kiyo's room. "They forced him into a psychopathic personality that was in love with his sister and killed almost a hundred girls! Is he that same man now?!"

"No!" Maki exclaimed in Kaito's face, unwavering but uncertain as to where this was going.

"Are you going to hold that against him?!"

"No, of course not!"

"It's the exact same scenario with Kokichi!" Kaito snapped. "He was forced to play a role by Danganronpa, but he's not that person anymore! If you're not going to hold it against Korekiyo, why isn't it the same with Kokichi?!"

Maki stared up at him, fists trembling at her sides. Kaito could see past her furious glare, however. Kaito's words were being calculated in her mind. The logic was sound, and he knew Maki couldn't ignore that. Slowly, Maki's fists relaxed, and her fingers uncurled. Her gaze traveled down, and soon her head with it, until she completely hid her face behind her bangs.

"I guess..." she trailed off for moment, as if making sure she was okay with her decision. "I can maybe forgive Kokichi. But I would have to talk to him first. Make sure he's really an okay person."

"Really?" Kaito questioned. Maki nodded, and gave him a hesitant look.

"But not because I trust the twerp. Because you believe in him. And I have to have some faith in that."

Kaito deflated with relief, crumpling back onto the cafeteria bench. Maki followed suit, and their attention was turned back to their classmates. An awkward silence had fallen over them during the argument, many sets of wide, anxious eyes watching the conflict uncertainly. After an extremely tense moment of silence, Shuichi spoke up again.

"Kirumi?" The former maid's attention turned to him. "Y-You said that Korekiyo woke up with...burns? Could it be the same reason you are using crutches right now? Or why Kaede hasn't said a word this whole time?"

Kaede winced, but Kirumi smiled. "I see you are still as observational as you were in the simulation. Yes, these are all for the same reason."

"Then..." Shuichi looked around at all his classmates, taking in their sorry states. "The ways you died in the simulation..."

"Affect you real life?!" Himiko caught on surprisingly quick, hands darting up to cover her mouth in surprise, her eyes wide with horror. They received nods from all their deceased classmates, Ryoma giving his inhaler a little wave.

"Yup."

"Then, your sickness?!" Maki turned to Kaito with a look of terror. He put a hand on her shoulder before she could spiral out of concern.

"I have a cough, but it's not anything that's going to kill me," Kaito explained. "I may just...never be able to go on a run again."

"Seconded," Kirumi spoke up.

"Third." Ryoma actually chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

The survivors look at their classmates with a mixture of horror and pity, Himiko reaching up to grab the sleeve of Tenko's hospital gown. Rantaro waved them off.

"Please, don't look at us like that. You're lookin' at the group that got off easy."

Shuichi's eyebrows furrowed at that, taking a second to fully understand what Rantaro was trying to say. Then, his eyes widened, and he turned back to Kaito. "K-Kokichi?"

Kaito wilted, looking anywhere but in Shuichi's eyes. "In a coma." He turned to Maki and gave her a half-hearted shrug. "Your talk with him may have to wait."

Maki returned that with a grave look. She clearly was having trouble hiding her doubts, but she also understood that the boy she met in the simulation was different than the boy in the hospital bed. In fact, she was starting to understand that the boy she met in the simulation wasn't who she thought he was at all. But she was still going to have trouble accepting that.

"Okay," Shuichi exhaled shakily, clearly overwhelmed by the amount of revelations that were being forced on to him. "As much as I'd love to focus on that, we really don't have much time before the hospital staff realized what happened."

"I'm honestly surprised they haven't come barging in already," Ryoma said, glanced over at the barricaded door with an arched eyebrow.

"It is a little surprising," Kirumi said, giving the security camera a confused glance. "You don't think...? Never mind."

"Like I said, we don't have time," Shuichi said. "We have no idea what they're planning on doing with us," he motioned to himself, Maki, and Himiko. "But we're not injured. They may try and separate us."

"No!" Himiko exclaimed, clinging to Tenko's arm like a lifeline. The taller girl's face turned so red, Kaito wasn't even sure if she was breathing.

"I won't let them," Maki told Himiko. "They gave me the talent of Ultimate Assassin. It's their fault if it ends up getting used on them."

"It already has been used on them..." Gonta mumbled with a finger tapping his chin.

"I appreciate what you're going for, Maki, but we really don't know what we're up against," Shuichi said. "This is a world we remember nothing about, with an unknown amount of hospital staff working against us. Not to mention Korekiyo and Kokichi being out of commission, and these guys in no shape to run or fight."

"What are you suggesting we do, then?" Maki asked. Shuichi glanced over questioningly at Kaede. The girl sighed deeply before pulling out her notebook.

I think we have to hear the hospital staff out.

"What?!" Tenko exclaimed.

"I don't think they're very trustworthy, Kaede," Angie admitted with a finger innocently tapping her cheek. She was keeping her voice high-pitched and sweet, clearly trying to hide her exhaustion and terror. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I'm not just letting those creeps get their hands on these guys!" Kaito growled, placing a hand on either one of his sideki- ahem, friends' shoulders.

Kaede held her hands up to settle them, before turning back to her notebook. None of us have any idea what the outside world is like. If the survivors are given a way out of the hospital, they should take it.

"So, you want us to go along with whatever they have planned for us?" Maki questioned. "So we aren't trapped in here with you?"

Kaede shrugged, but nodded. The former assassin scoffed.

"You got to be kidding. How do you even know they plan on setting us free?"

"The contracts!" Kaito exclaimed.

"What?" Maki turned to him.

"When I woke up, Dr. Sho showed me all these different contracts," he said, not stopping to explain who Dr. Sho was. "A contract for a person accepted into Danganronpa ends with a hefty paycheck, and a promise for a luxurious life."

"Luxurious life?" Maki asked. "You mean they're going to give us homes?"

"I think so!" Kaito exclaimed. "It's like consolation money."

"You're saying you want these three to accept the consolation money, and try to live a normal life?" Kirumi asked. Kaede's hands moved a mile a minute as she tried to scribble down her logic.

There is no reason they should be stuck in here with us. If anyone has the chance to leave Danganronpa and anything involved with it, they should take it.

"I don't know how comfortable I am with the idea of leaving you all in here, alone," Shuichi spoke up, raising a hand.

"I agree with Shuichi, we're staying here," Maki crossed her arms. Kaede's eyebrows furrowed, and her hands twitched, ready to write down an argument. "Don't give me that look, Akamatsu. We're not going to be stupid and leave you guys behind. I know- I know what you're trying to say," Maki interrupted before Kaede could say a word. "I know you want the best thing for us, but I refuse to be separated. Not when I have no idea what they're planning to do with you guys."

"That seems fair," Kaito nodded, shooting Kaede an apologetic look. "I get where you're coming from, Kaede, but I don't know how much I want these guys out there, anyway. At least not until we can all be out there together, protecting each other."

"Protecting each other from what, though?" Angie asked, bouncing her head from side to side. "We don't even know if the outside world is dangerous!"

"Think of the kind of world that would love a show like Danganronpa," Kirumi said. "Would you want to be left alone to fend for yourself in a world like that?"

Angie fell silent, but she refused to give up the carefree expression on her face.

"It'll be hard to know how to move on from here without knowing Team Danganronpa's next steps," Shuichi admitted, covering his mouth, deep in thought. Kaito smiled. He had missed Shuichi's little quirks, no matter how artificial.

Suddenly, the intercom crackled, and the classmates all froze up. "I can help with that," a voice came through the speakers hanging in the corners of the room. Kirumi shot another accusatory glare towards the security cameras.

"So they know we're here."

"Not only that, but they can hear us," Maki crossed her arms, looking around at the ceiling. "Who the hell are you?!"

"I'm Dr. Sho, the assigned psychologist to the cast of Danganronpa V3," explained the voice on the intercom. "Now, why don't you un-barricade the doors? We just want to have a talk."

"How do we know we can trust you?!" Himiko yelled, pretending that she wasn't hiding behind Tenko. "You could be lying to lure us out and kill us!"

"The killing game is over, Himiko," Dr. Sho insisted. "And we've done nothing but work to help your friends heal. Shouldn't that count for something?"

"You're full of shit," Maki spat venomously. "What do you want from us?"

"What do I want?" Dr. Sho questioned. "I want you to come to a few counseling sessions."

The survivors went silent, clearly disbelieving. They glanced around at each other.

"Why?" Shuichi finally asked.

"Though you may be physically unharmed, you do still need to get evaluated before we release you from the hospital. You will get to stay with your friends a little longer, and you'll understand what the next steps are a little more. Isn't that what you want?"

Shuichi hesitated, glancing at Maki, then Himiko, then surprisingly Kaito.

"I think we should take it," he whispered.

"Are you crazy?!" Maki snapped, matching his whispered tone. "We don't know these people! How can we trust them?"

"Do we have another option? Besides stay barricaded in this cafeteria?" Shuichi shrugged. Maki growled, but had no response. Shuichi glanced at Himiko, who just shrugged. Then, with a nod, he looked back up at the ceiling.

"Fine. We'll cooperate. But before you whisk me off to analyze me, I want you to let me do one thing."

Dr. Sho hummed over the intercom. "I suppose that's alright. What do you want?"

Shuichi's eyebrows furrowed, and Kaito recognized the fierce expression from the final trial. "I want to see Kokichi."

Kaito opened the door to Kokichi's hospital room, then hesitated. Kokichi was lying motionless on the bed, right where he had left him. Kaito wasn't sure if that was a step up or down from his writhing, trembling, seizure-wracked form from a few hours ago. Probably better. Yes, this is probably better. Still, Kaito was suddenly feeling hesitant about letting Shuichi into the room. Sure, the hospital staff gave him permission to bring Shuichi here, but it still felt wrong. Kokichi's walls are down, and he's completely vulnerable. Kaito knew the little guy would hate being seen like this.

"Kaito?" Shuichi questioned from behind him, unable to see into the room. "Let me in?"

Kaito sighed, and stepped aside. Shuichi's eyes widened, and his hand flew up to his mouth, stricken silent. Like in a trance, Shuichi slowly approached the bed. The hand over his mouth cautiously left his face to reach out towards Kokichi. But he never made contact. Kaito had been the same way.

"Why did you ask to see him?" Kaito asked as Shuichi's eyes roamed over Kokichi's body, over the machines that were keeping him alive.

"I just...had to see for myself," Shuichi admitted, before sighing and letting his head and shoulders droop. He fell silent for a minute. Kaito considered speaking up, but he really had nothing to say. No inspiring words, no insisting the gremlin will be fine, nothing.

Kaito Momota's really lost his touch.

"This is my fault," Shuichi finally said in a whisper, as if Kaito wasn't supposed to hear it. Kaito tensed up in surprise.

"W-What do you mean?! How the hell is this your fault?!"

Shuichi shook his head, sweaty bangs hiding his face. "I said such horrible things to him."

"Are you forgetting he said even worse things, to us?" Kaito said. "I'm not saying he was the monster he pretended to be, but he said some pretty unforgivable shit."

"No, you don't understand," Shuichi insisted, turning to Kaito. "Kokichi trusted me. He wanted to work together to end the killing game but I..." Shuichi's words got caught in his throat, and he suddenly turned away, unable to look at Kaito. "I pushed him away. I drove him to this."

"Shuichi, you did nothing of the sort," Kaito said, taking a step closer. "Did you tell Kokichi to kill himself?"

"N-No..."

Kaito took another step. "Did you force him to make that suicidal plan?"

"No..."

Finally, Kaito was within arm's reach. He put a comforting hand on Shuichi's shoulder, and the boy jumped slightly. "Did you press the button? Did you kill Kokichi with the press?"

Shuichi looked up at Kaito with wide eyes. "N-No."

Kaito smiled sadly. "Then it doesn't sound like your fault at all, does it?"

Shuichi cocked his head, eyes studying Kaito's expression. Kaito knew Shuichi was reading him like a book. "Kaito, do you think this is your-?"

The character Kaito Momota would say something along the lines of "Let me take responsibility." He loved to do that. To take his sidekicks' worries and burdens and shoulder them himself. How arrogant. Did he really believe he was any stronger than them? Did he really think he was some sort of saint?

It's a good thing the character Kaito Momota is dead, Kaito thinks.

"You should head to your session with Himiko and Maki," Kaito interrupted Shuichi. "Don't worry, I'll be watching over him. I'll let you know if anything happens."

"Are you sure?" Shuichi asked, looking hesitant to leave his side. Kaito wasn't surprised. He was a little pissed at himself for instilling a bit of dependency in his "sidekicks".

"I'm sure, bro. I'll be here when you get back. And then we can really start planning. But you won't be able to come up with anything without getting a feel for what's going on."

Shuichi nodded, exhaling slowly. "You're right. You're right. As usual."

Kaito beamed to hide his grimace. "Get goin'."

Shuichi hesitantly said goodbye before disappearing out the door, into the hospital they're all trapped in. Kaito sighed and turned back to Kokichi, sinking back into his familiar chair.

"Well, little man," he grumbled. "There's a lot to catch you up on."

Chapter Text

Maki, Himiko, and Shuichi all sat in separate chairs, looking across the way at the woman who talked to them over the intercom. She introduced herself as Dr. Sho, the show's psychologist.

"I know it can be pretty confusing, waking up from such a realistic simulation," she said kindly. A little too kindly. The survivors were clearly weary as she opened her binder and clicked her pen. "Why don't we just start with something simple? Describe how you felt when you realized that your killing school life had just been a simulation."

When the girls didn't speak up first, Shuichi decided to rip off the bandaid. "Uh, confused, I guess. But also relieved."

"Is that so?" Dr. Sho immediately started writing, and Shuichi tensed up.

"Uh, yeah. Everyone I thought was dead wasn't anymore, so..." he trailed off, and with nothing more to say, he leaned back in his chair and bowed his head.

"U-Um," Himiko spoke up, wringing her hands nervously. "I was scared."

"Scared of what, Himiko?" Dr. Sho asked.

"Um...the nurses," Himiko said. "I didn't know who they were, and they kept touching me. I didn't really know what was going on. I still don't."

"I see. That is perfectly understandable," Dr. Sho nodded, before turned expectantly to Maki. She said nothing, simply crossing her arms over her chest and glowering at the therapist. Shuichi and Himiko glanced over at her. Maki's eyes flicked over to Shuichi, who nodded his head. Maki sighed, rolling her eyes and refusing to look at Dr. Sho.

"Pissed off."

"How...in-character," Dr. Sho nodded. Clearly the wrong thing to say, as Maki bristled, and the air in the room turned cold.

"I'm not a fucking character."

"We can discuss how real or not real your current personalities are at a later date," Dr. Sho said with a smile. Maki bared her teeth in a snarl. Shuichi's instinct was to try and hold her back, but...

Well, this lady was being a real bitch.

"Perhaps we should move on," Dr. Sho said. "You all will receive a hefty reward for winning the killing game. What do you intend to do with your new money?"

Shuichi could tell she was fishing for something. Maybe checking to see if they would use it responsibly? Or that they wouldn't turn around and retaliate publicly against Danganronpa. He already pretty much ruined the game at the last trial. Best to give the doctor what she was looking for. "I'd use it to buy a house, somewhere nice. Safe. Maybe get a dog. I don't know, I don't need much."

"S-Same here," Himiko said. "I want to l-live, and get a pet too. And I want roommates. I want to ask Tenko, and Angie, and Kirumi."

When Dr. Sho turned to Maki, her glare had not softened. "You're asking what I want to do with the money after you let us leave?"

Dr. Sho sighed tiredly. "Yes, Maki, we can't allow you to accept the reward until you are released from the hospital."

"Why are we still in here, then?" Maki asked. "Clearly, we're not injured."

"Well, I still have to analyze you, to make sure there is no psychological trauma from the simulation."

"N-No...?" Maki's eyebrow twitched, unable to finish the sentence, in complete shock. "Are you serious?"

"Maki..." Shuichi warned.

"We watched our friends die in horribly gruesome ways!" Maki snapped, slowly rising from her chair. As she did so, Shuichi and Himiko did as well, though nervously trying to calm her down. "We had to vote for which friend to get executed! We lived every day, not sure if we'll be killed tomorrow! You overwrote whoever we were before, you made me believe I was a killer!" she snapped, now towering over Dr. Sho. "And you expect us to just walk away from that, perfectly fine?! What the hell was this all for, Dr. Sho?! What possible reason could you have to do this to us?!"

Dr. Sho looked up at Maki, eyebrows slightly furrowed, but otherwise unbothered by the outburst. Slowly, she closed her binder and tucked her pen into her shirt pocket. "I see we are still upset about the events of the killing game."

Maki's hands were outstretched, mouth ajar in shock, eyebrow twitching. She looked like she wanted to yell some more, but was just too dumbfounded to find the words.

"I think you all may need some treatment, before you're ready to be released from the hospital," Dr. Sho admitted.

The survivors started yelling over each other.

"I just want to leave!" Himiko cried.

"This can't be the only reason you want to keep us here!" Shuichi added.

"We're not your fucking pawns!" Maki snapped.

"Please, please, you are understandably upset," Dr. Sho raised her hands, but Shuichi was quick to talk over her.

"Were you really planning on letting us go?" he asked, disbelievingly. "Because according to our friends, you haven't done much except make sure they didn't die from their injuries. Are they really getting better? How long will it take before we get to go home?"

"If you think we're keeping you guys here for our own selfish reasoning, you are mistaken," Dr. Sho tried.

"Then why is Gonta still here?" Maki asked, crossing her arms. "He seemed to be pretty damn healed, after you stole his ribs. I don't know what else you could possibly holding him here for."

"Or Kaito," Shuichi added. "From what I can tell, you guys gave him some medicine for the residual sickness. There is nothing else keeping him here, right? Why isn't he free to go?"

"Sure, Miu and Kaede lost their voices, but that hardly seems like grounds to keep them in a hospital," Maki added.

"Tenko seemed perfectly fine to me," Himiko mumbled, wringing her hands together. "Why won't you let us go?"

Dr. Sho looked up at the three survivors standing above her, dumbfounded. Her eyes rested on each individual, as if trying to understand. Then, slowly, her expression hardened, like a machine resetting.

"Is there some reason you're keeping everyone here, Dr. Sho?" Shuichi asked seriously, quietly.

The doctor didn't answer. Instead, she completely changed to a different topic. "There's something, or maybe someone, that I think will help you with recovering your mental states," Dr. Sho leaned over and typed into her computer. "Perhaps they can help you feel better about the situation, enough so that I can verify you're ready to be released." The survivors of Danganronpa V3 gave each other cautious looks. Dr. Sho leaned back after finishing her typing, turning the monitor to face them. The screen came to life, and a bouncing avatar appeared on the screen with a friendly smile.

"Hello, everyone!"

Maki's eyes widened, and her entire body stiffened. Himiko yelled out before covering her mouth with her hands. Both looked like they had seen a ghost.

Shuichi spoke first. "K-Kiibo?!"

Once again alone with Kokichi, Kaito settled himself in the familiar chair by his bed. He took a quick sweep of Kokichi's prone form, but found nothing out of the ordinary. His chest still moved with each breath, though slow and shakily. His skin was starting to return to its old, pale color, unlike the blue from before. It seems like that really was just a symptom of the seizure.

"So, uh, Shuichi might get to leave," Kaito started with an awkward shrug. "If he passes some kind of psychology exam. Which, obviously he will. I mean, did you see him at that last trial? He's the most competent, intelligent guy I ever met. He'll pass with flying colors, and get out of this shitty hospital."

Kokichi had nothing to say to that.

"I'm not really sure about the rest of us," Kaito said. "I mean, you're in no shape to leave. And of course, I'm going to stick by your side the whole time. I mean, I feel healthy enough to leave but...to leave the other students who are worse off behind..." he shook his head. "I don't even know what to expect," Kaito admitted, gripping his shoulder awkwardly. "I mean, do you think it's okay? Out there, in the outside world? The person those writers turned me into...I don't even know what the real world is like. How can I know I'm ready when I don't even know what to expect?"

Kokichi, as usual, didn't respond. Kaito sighed, his hand dropping from his shoulder and landing in his lap.

"I bet you would do alright. Out there," Kaito said. "You can be so prepared for anything. And no offense, but you're so messed up, you probably know how to act to fit right in."

Nothing. Kaito leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist. "Thought you might be excited to hear Shuichi's awake," he mumbled. "He was your favorite, wasn't he?"

Nothing.

"I figured, if Kokichi's as much of an asshole now as he was in the game, then of course he would ignore my begs but wake up the instant Shuichi came in."

Nothing. Kaito's eyes narrowed. He could have...he could have sworn...

"Kokichi?"

Yes! There it was again! Kokichi's eyelashes fluttering, his eyelids twitching. Under the mask, Kaito could see Kokichi's top lip pulling upwards slightly. Kaito's eyes widened.

"K-Kokichi?"

Flutter. Twitch. Pull.

He was moving! He was...reacting?

"Kokichi, can you hear me?"

Kokichi's lips parted under the mask, and Kaito leaned forward eagerly. Kokichi's face pinched, and he let out a pained moan.

"Get it..."

Kaito nearly screamed. Kokichi was talking?! This had to be a good sign, right?! "I'm here, I'm here!" he exclaimed, too nervous to touch Kokichi but desperately wanting to gather him in his arms. "What do you need? Get what?"

Kokichi's head lazily thrashed around on the pillow, as if he wanted to move quickly, but something was holding him back. "Get it off..."

Get it off? Kaito eyeballed the mask over Kokichi's mouth and nose. "I don't know, kid, that's what's keeping you breathing right now, I don't think it's a good idea to take it off-"

"Get it off!" Kokichi whined, volume suddenly growing. "Kaito!"

Kaito's eyes widened. Was Kokichi lucid enough that he knew he was there?! "Are you with me, Kokichi, are you waking up?!"

Kokichi whimpered, and his back started to arch against the bed. "It hurts!" he exclaimed, voice muffled by the mask. "Turn it off, Kaito!"

Turn it off? Kaito wasn't positive what Kokichi was talking about, but he had the horrible feeling that he was about too. Before he could ask, though, Kokichi threw his head back against the pillow and screamed.

Kaito stumbled away from the bed in horror, dashing towards the Call Button on the side of the bed and pressing it rapidly. Shit, shit, shit!

Kokichi continued to writhe and moan, but it was different than the seizure before. These weren't uncontrolled movements. Something was bothering him, he was in pain. But he had said Kaito's name! Twice! Which means he must be awake, right?!

"Turn it off!" Kokichi snapped, and suddenly, his eyes opened. Kaito froze by the call button, jaw dropping.

"Kokichi?!"

"Turn off the press! We'll find another way! Please, Kaito!"

Oh fuck, oh fuck. "Hey!" Kaito screamed, the volume ripping at his throat as he raced towards the door and threw it open. "We need a goddamn nurse in here, now! You fuckers are supposed to be taking care of us!"

A nurse rushed in and immediately got to work injecting Kokichi with a sedative. "Hey, what the fuck are you doing?!" Kaito snapped, reaching out to grab her arm.

"He needs to calm down, he's not lucid," the nurse tried to explain as she wrenched herself out of Kaito's grasp. He snagged her by the forearm again, refusing to let go. "If he keeps acting up, he'll hurt himself!"

"No, I won't let you inject him with whatever fucked up medicine you freaks have!" Kaito spat, his strength overwhelming the nurse's as he yanked her away from Kokichi's body. The boy had already stopped whimpering, relaxing into the bed. But tears had already started running down his face, collecting at the edge of the mask and dripping off his head onto the pillow.

This is your fault, Momota, Kaito's inner voice growled venomously. He's your responsibility now.

What an in-character thing to think. But Kaito didn't have the time to concern himself with that. More nurses had heard the commotion and had come in, trying to pull him off the nurse.

"He thinks he's still in the press!" Kaito snapped, yanking his arm out of the nurses' grasp and trying to claw his way towards the hospital bed. Kokichi had gone still once more, hair curtaining around him like a greasy halo, tears already drying on his cheeks. "We need to tell him he's alive!"

"Get a sedative," he heard a nurse mumble to another one, as if it was supposed to be out of earshot. Kaito spun around, fists swinging. Fighting felt right.

"Don't you fucking touch me!" he shoved the nurse away. He slammed into the wall with a pained gasp, and another two nurses came up from beside him and tried to wrestle Kaito's arms against his torso. He thrashed aggressively as the nurse from before filled another needle with clear liquid. His heart was pounding now, as thunderous as waves crashing in his head. He fought, he pulled, he tried to get closer to the bed.

"Kokichi! Kokichi!"

The needle pierced skin. The nurse didn't seem to be trying to be gentle. Kaito cried out, throwing himself at the bed once more.

"Kokichi! Wake up!"

The last thing he saw were Kokichi's hands, twitching minutely against his chest, before the entire world slipped into darkness, and Kaito was swimming through space once more.

Things were different, now. Kaito used to look at Kokichi with spite and hatred. Anger for what he did to Gonta, for what he did to the others. But then, the little asshole had shoved the antidote down his throat and forced a book into his hands.

Kaito sat on the floor of the hangar bathroom now, flipping through the book of insanity. The handwriting had slowly turned bigger, more messy, more desperate. Large chunks of text had been cleanly crossed out near the beginning of the book. Deeper in, however, there were frantic scribbles over the forgotten plans, and even some tears in the pages.

Had he...been trying to end the killing game since the beginning?

Kaito watched as Kokichi hissed in pain, bracing his hand against the arrow in his forearm. The boy closed his eyes, crashed his teeth together, and pulled.

Kaito quickly looked away, but didn't miss the muted cry that escaped Kokichi's lips. The arrow had clattered to the floor, and Kokichi hunched back over, clapping a hand over his wound and trembling in agony on the floor.

"Kokichi-" Kaito tried.

"Don't," Kokichi snapped, not lifting his head. "I-I can do it myself."

Judging from the way Kokichi's whole body and voice trembled, Kaito highly doubted that. He watched as Kokichi stubbornly planted his hand against the floor- now covered in his blood- and pushed himself back into a sitting position. He twisted his arm awkwardly towards the arrow poking out of his back. He cried out in pain again, unable to fully grasp it and only pushing it deeper into his back.

"Okay, stop, stop!" Kaito insisted, crawling over and grabbing Kokichi's wrist before he could make it worse. Kokichi shot him a scathing look.

"I said-!"

"You can't possibly pull that out on your own!" Kaito snapped. "Let me help you, damn it!"

Kokichi glared up at him, but then quickly turned his head away. Kaito took that as a cue to start helping. He wrapped one arm around Kokichi's chest, bracing him. He took the base of the arrow in his other hand. "Ready? Three, two-" before one, he swiftly yanked the arrow out. Kokichi wasn't prepared to hold in his shout this time. The boy yelled and doubled over Kaito's arm, his whole body trembling with pain and exhaustion.

"I got you, I got you," Kaito whispered, wrapping his other arm around him and keeping him from collapsing to the floor. "I'm sorry, it's done now."

"Y-You meanie," Kokichi whimpered, unable to hide the very real tears in his voice. "You i-idiot, you don't even know h-how to count..."

Kaito grimaced. Even now, Kokichi was trying to keep up this messed-up persona, even when his entire weight was being held up by Kaito. "It would have been worse if I let you prepare for it."

Kokichi grumbled something unintelligible, one hand creeping up to hold onto Kaito's arm. Kaito looked down in surprise at the boy who was trembling in his arms. His tiny hand barely covered Kaito's forearm, and for a moment, Kaito thought he was accepting an embrace.

However, Kokichi instead decided to angrily shove Kaito's arm aside, falling out of his grasp and landing on his hands and knees. "O-Okay," he breathed. "With that o-out of the way, i-it's time for step two."

"Step two?" Kaito glanced at the book, forgotten on the ground. "You mean...killing you?"

Kokichi scoffed, shooting Kaito a look that read Are you really this stupid? "No, idiot, setting up the crime scene. I'll need you to t-take off your coat and put it in the p-press. Make sure one sleeve is hanging out! Oh, and also drag me across the ground by my arms."

"W-What?!" Kaito exclaimed. "What the hell is that supposed to do?!"

"Leave a streak of blood, duh!" Kokichi's 'duh' was weakened by a breathy cough. He was clearly trying to hold in an entire coughing attack. Kaito was pretty good at recognizing what that looked like.

"No way, man, there's enough blood on the ground, and it's only going to make your injury worse," Kaito said. Kokichi glowered at him.

"A-Are you really t-this stupid?" he spat, the usual, light-hearted tease in his voice poisoned by something darker, angrier. "D-Does it matter what the f-fuck happens to my injuries? I'm d-dying. I can do w-whatever the fuck I w-want."

Kaito winced. Kokichi sounded different, now. The playful tone and the childish speech pattern was replaced with venom, spitting and cursing with fury. Kokichi always knew how to pretend to be frightening, but this...this one felt real.

"But I-"

"Kaito. Do it."

Kaito cringed, but accepted Kokichi's outstretched hands. He slowly lowered the boy to the ground so he was lying on his back. As he started to drag Kokichi towards the press, he could tell it was taking all the boy's effort to hold in his screams. Kokichi's eyes immediately squeezed shut, tears collecting in the corners of his eyelids. Kaito grimaced, but was unable to look away as he left a pink streak across the filthy hangar floor. The wound was bound to get infected... that is, if Kokichi wasn't going to be dying in the next hour.

Kokichi nearly made it the whole way with keeping his teeth clenched, only releasing pained moans. The last few steps, however, Kokichi's breath shuddered and his mouth opened, crying out in pain. Kaito closed his eyes and looked the other way.

Finally, he released him next to the press. Kokichi immediately curled into himself on the floor, his whole body trembling as it was wracked with barely controlled sobs. Kaito knelt beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, as if that would do anything, and let him ride out the pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Kaito found himself murmuring as Kokichi desperately tried to collect himself. The poor kid didn't even have the energy to swat Kaito's hand away, so there it stayed, comfortingly on his shoulder as his body relaxed limp onto the floor. Kokichi's head thumped to the ground, his pained expression relaxing into something more exhausted.

"I-I..." Kokichi tried. Kaito leaned forward.

"Yes, what's wrong?"

"I-I..." Kokichi exhaled shakily, eyes still closed. "I n-need to get...up the s-stairs..."

Kaito frowned, turning to look at the staircase ahead. With the state they were in, it may as well have been Mount Everest.

"I need y-you..." Kokichi hissed, apparently not done. "T-to carry...me..."

If the Supreme Leader was asking for help, then clearly something was wrong. Kaito's eyebrows furrowed in concern, but he supposed it was too little too late for concern now. He bent down to gather Kokichi in his arms, and for once, he didn't fight back. Kokichi's head limply rolled to rest against Kaito's chest, which only made him wince.

Kaito never thought he would be pushed so far that he would murder someone.

He also never thought he would be holding his to-be murder victim in his arms. Shakily, Kokichi reached up and put a hand on Kaito's chest. Using all his energy, he forced his eyes open to look up at his murderer.

For once, there was nothing fake in his expression. None of that manufactured malice, or pretend joy, or nasty mockery. It was just...Kokichi. Looking up at him, Kaito. Ready to die. Ready to be killed.

Kaito wasn't sure if he could do this anymore.

"Can I...ask you something, Kokichi?"

Kokichi's gaze turned hesitant, and a little harsh, as if he were expecting Kaito to try and back out of the plan. "What?"

"How long...were you planning to die?"

Kokichi went silent at that, his lips tugging into a weak image of a smile. His gaze softened and grew hazy, looking somewhere past Kaito's face as he carried him up the stairs.

"I-I...wanted to live..."

Kaito's eyebrows furrowed, but it was clear Kokichi wasn't done. So he waited for the boy to catch his breath, so he could continue.

"But...I found out...that w-wasn't possible..."

Kaito opened his mouth to argue, but it was futile.

"I-It was beat the game...or k-keep living...and I n-never lose a game," Kokichi's voice was growing weaker, his gaze further and further away. Kaito gave him a little jostle.

"You could have both!"

Kokichi chuckled, his hands trembling against Kaito's chest. "S-Stupid Kaito...y-you'll never understand..."

"Kokichi-!"

"Does it matter?" Kokichi's voice suddenly hardened. Kaito froze as Kokichi's gaze snapped back into lucidity, glaring up at Kaito. "I won't die, anyway."

"W-What?"

"You'll destroy me, but my suffering won't end there," Kokichi's voice was emotionless, cold. Completely wrong. "Killing me wasn't enough for you, huh? You wanted to ruin my life afterward, as well?"

"Afterward?! What the hell are you talking about?!"

Something in Kokichi's eyes glitched mechanically. Kaito's head snapped up and looked around at the hangar, which was suddenly twitching and dissolving around him like a computer glitch. His breath caught in his throat. 

"It's your fault I'm stuck like this, Kaito."

"Stuck like what?!" Kaito turned back to look at Kokichi, but he was already blue and limp in his arms. For some reason, half of his school uniform was gone, replaced with a hospital gown. Kokichi's eyes were clamped shut, and something was beeping, beeping, beeping right by Kaito's ear. He flicked his head, trying to get rid of the sound, but it wouldn't stop. It only got louder...faster...that was bad, that was bad! 

"Kokichi?! Kokichi, wake up!"

Kokichi did not.

Kokichi might never. 

The beeping got louder, faster, as did Kaito's begs.

"Kokichi! Kokichi, please-!"

Space started to dissipate. A white light shot through the inky blackness. Kaito frowned. He was enjoying swimming through space, all the stars just small dots in the distance. This light was different, though. It was piercing, invasive, and only getting brighter. Kaito squinted as the light overtook his vision.

"Maki, we can't stay in here forever, we need a plan."

"Don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. I know we need a plan."

Kaito shifted a bit as the muffled voices came from the light.

"Nyeh...guys?"

"We are out-numbered, we have no means of defense, and now we've been separated from our friends!"

"One step at a time, Shuichi, please!"

"Guys?"

"Do you not care that they fucking sedated Kaito?!"

"Of course I care, Maki!"

"Guys!"

"What, Himiko?!"

"He's waking up!"

The voices grew louder, clamoring over each other as they got closer and closer to his face. He winced, blinking against the bright light that had invaded his space. As he did so, his vision cleared, and he saw some faces swimming in the brightness.

Oh. It was a hospital room.

Oh. It was his friends!

Kaito tried to shoot up, but only twitched and released a pained groan. Shuichi's hand shot out to press down on his shoulder.

"Stay down, Kaito."

"What do you remember?" Maki asked eagerly. Kaito blearily looked around at the three of them, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Um...you three went to therapy..." their faces sobered at that, like they were hiding something. "And...uh..."

"Don't rush yourself. Shuichi, get some water," Maki ordered. Shuichi nodded and rushed to the sink, filling a small Dixie cup and carefully bringing it back for Kaito. "Let's get you sitting up," Maki said, gently placing her hand on his back and carefully sitting him up in bed. Kaito took a moment to look at his surroundings. This was his hospital room. But...wasn't he in-?

"Kokichi!" Kaito exclaimed, nearly spilling the water. "H-He woke up, he was talking-!"

"Slow down and drink your water," Maki said before turning to the other two. "If Kokichi really woke up, then that makes things even more complicated."

Kaito blinked at the door of the hospital room. "Uh, guys? Why are all the medical equipment in front of my door?" It was a reasonable question, considering the makeshift barricade of tables, heart monitors, IV drips, and other such equipment that sat in front of him right now. 

The three survivors glanced at the barricade, then at him. "Uh, well..." Shuichi wrung his hands together. "It's kinda hard to explain."

"I fought your nurses and barricaded us in this room," Maki stated plainly. Shuichi glanced at her, surprised.

"I guess it's not that hard."

Kaito's eyes widened. "You what?!"

"Kaito, they sedated you!" Maki exclaimed. "Do you not remember that?!"

Kaito flinched as the memories came rushing back. Kokichi's thrashing on the bed, his fists swinging at the nurses, the needle piercing his skin. "K-Kokichi, they did the same thing to Kokichi!"

"W-What, why would they sedate Kokichi?!" Shuchi asked, eyes wide in shock. 

"He was moving around, and talking! I don't think he was entirely, y'know, there, but that was no reason to fucking sedate him!" Kaito exclaimed. "Anyway, I got mad at them, and...well... I guess you guys know the rest."

"Kaito, these nurses may be 'helping us heal'," Maki used finger quotes, sitting on the edge of his bed. "But they're also trying to keep us here, for some reason."

"Why would they do that?!" Kaito asked.

"We're not sure," Shuichi admitted. "But we want to come up with an escape plan."

"Nyeh...an escape plan sounds hard with so many people..." Himiko mumbled. "How are we supposed to get everyone out?"

"It's like I said," Maki said. "One step at a time. We get Kaito out first."

"What?! No!" Kaito exclaimed. "I'm not leaving without you guys!"

"Kaito, this isn't me playing favorites," Maki explained. "When we saw how the nurses were treating you-"

"Maki impulsively started fighting everyone and barricaded us in this room with no plans," Himiko finished for her. Maki's eyebrow twitched.

"Yeah. That. So the only reason you're the first one we want to break out is because we're really not sure how else to go from here."

Kaito shook his head. "No. No. I'm not leaving first."

"Shuichi will go with you," Maki said. The detective made a surprised sound, so Kaito supposed he hadn't heard about this part of the plan yet. "Scope out what the outside world is like together. Besides me and Himiko, you two are in the best shape health-wise, so I know you can take it."

Kaito frowned. That made sense. It made a lot of sense. If they had to fend for themselves, Kaito would rather it be him than someone else. But there was one glaring issue. "I'm not leaving Kokichi here alone."

Maki frowned and crossed her arms. Shuichi nervously spoke up. "U-Um...forgive me for asking, Kaito, but you seem... weirdly attached to Kokichi now?"

Kaito wilted with exhaustion. "Man, you don't know half of what happened in that hangar. What I saw Kokichi trying to do," he shook his head. "The little guy was on his own, fighting for all of us. And what did I do in return? I crushed him."

"You shouldn't feel guilty about that," Maki insisted. "It was Kokichi's plan, not yours. You were only doing what you thought would save me."

"And of course, I don't regret saving you!" Kaito exclaimed, hoping she didn't misunderstand. "Maki Roll, I couldn't bear it if you got executed because of me!"

Maki's face flushed red, and she quickly turned away, fiddling with strands of her hair despite it no longer being tied up in pigtails.

"But Kokichi's in a coma now because of me," Kaito explained. "I have to take responsibility for my own actions. Do you understand?"

Shuichi picked at the hem of his own hospital gown. "Yeah...I think I do..."

Everyone turned to him, but the former detective went silent, gaze trained on the ground. His three friends recognized that look. He was deep in thought. They all fell silent, allowing Shuichi to pick apart the situation in his mind, to find the right conclusion. Somehow, he always seemed to do so. Kaito tried not to smile with pride.

Eventually, clarity returned to Shuichi's gaze, and he looked back up. "Okay. I think I got something."

"Shoot," Kaito encouraged. Shuichi took a deep breath, steeling himself, before turning to Maki. The girl looked surprised at the sudden attention.

"Maki, you need to escape first."

"W-What?!" Maki snapped. "No, I'm not leaving you guys behind-"

"Maki, let me finish."

"No, Shuichi," Maki said stubbornly. "I'm the only one capable of defending myself against these nurses. Our classmates need me in here, with them."

"Maki, you don't understand," Shuichi said calmly. "You're right. You are the only person capable of defending yourself. Which means you are the best candidate to send on an initial escape plan. Think about it. What if it doesn't work? What if the hospital's security system goes way beyond what we expect? If we send Kaito out there, we have no idea what we're working with. He doesn't have any combat capabilities- Kaito, I see you opening your mouth to argue, you know it's true. Maki, in case an escape is much more difficult than we expect, it's much safer to send you. I have full faith that you would be able to handle yourself, and report back to us on if you think it's possible. If it's not, then we'll find another way," he shrugged, looking around. "But we have to be prepared to fight."

Maki's cheeks turned red at Shuichi's praises. By the end of his speech, she was pouting and glaring at the wall, fiddling with her hair. A sure sign that Maki knew he was right, but she clearly didn't like it.

"So...you want me to escape the hospital, and report back to you guys?" she asked after a moment of contemplation. Shuichi smiled, knowing that she was as good as convinced.

"You are the only one who can."

Maki glanced at Himiko, then Shuichi. Then, finally, at Kaito. He saw the hesitation in her eyes, and clenched his fists, giving her an encouraging nod and a proud smile. Maki's lip twitched upwards, in her own, half-smile, and her gaze hardened with determination. She turned back to Shuichi.

"Alright, then. Let's do it."

Chapter Text

Maki wasn't a fan of not having a plan. As an assassin, she always had a rigid plan for her hits, as well as back-up plans, and several back-ups for the back-ups. Of course, sometimes plans would go awry, so she wasn't unused to winging it. She just didn't like it when that happened.

Well, she supposed all those times were false memories.

But still, the feeling stands.

She didn't have much of a choice here, however. She doubted the nurses would give them much more time alone, after fighting them so many times. Maki sent Kaito, Shuichi, and Himiko off, demanding they find their own rooms. Seeing as they were all already in Kaito's room, she told him to go find some other space to occupy. She's going to need this one. They were all clearly hesitant to leave her behind, but Maki could be rather convincing. Shuichi was the last one to hover in the doorway, giving her a timid look over his shoulder.

"Be careful," he said quietly. Maki tried to get her expression to soften into something friendlier. Judging by the twitch of Shuichi's lips, it had worked.

"While I'm gone, you should probably tell him about...you-know-who."

Shuichi's expression turned serious, and he nodded. "And probably Miu, too. I don't know if...he's the same person as he was in the simulation. But I'll talk to him more. See what's really going on." Maki nodded.

"I'll be back for you," she said. Shuichi gave her a sharp nod.

"I know you will."

With that, he slipped out from behind the barricaded door. Maki quickly shut it behind him, sliding the medical equipment back in front of it.

Showtime.

There was no window, of course. That would be too easy. No, the only light in the room was provided by the bright florescence on the ceiling, and the only air was provided by the vent.

An obvious escape choice, but it'll have to do.

Maki quickly got to work picking the lock to the medical supplies cabinet. Of course, anything sharp or metal wouldn't be easy to access for a patient. She had no hairpins to speak of, and nothing useful hidden in her hospital gown. So, she grabbed a pen, harmless enough, and stuck it into the deadbolt. It took entirely too long, and ended with ink spilling all over her hands, but it worked. She quickly rifled through the cabinet, praying for something useful. She took a scalpel and, with no pockets to speak of, stuck it in her mouth horizontally as she kept looking. Eventually she found a tool, she did not know its name, but it was small and flat, like a flathead screwdriver. It'll do.

Scalpel still in mouth, Maki pushed the chair up to the vent and stood on it, balancing precariously as she unscrewed the vent cover from the ceiling. She caught it and held it in one hand, tossing the scalpel up into the vent. It landed with a clatter, and no alarms went off. Maki sighed in relief, climbing down off the chair.

She would have to be fast, with this next part. She quickly un-barricaded the door, moving the medical equipment to other spots in the room. With the vent as the only means of escape, she couldn't leave herself barricaded in here. Any investigator worth their money would quickly figure out how she exited if this was a 'locked room case'. By clearing the door, she has now opened up her potential escape route to anywhere in the hospital.

Maki rushed back to the vent, grabbing on it with both hands and kicking the chair out from under her. It slid a couple feet away, no longer suspiciously under the vent. With that, she did an admittedly impressive pull-up into the vent, bringing the cover with her. She screwed in one screw, but that was all she could physically do. She swung the vent closed, and it hung loosely on its one screw. It'll have to do.

Now wedged into the vent like a mouse, Maki picked up the scalpel and held it in her fist. With no other options, she army-crawled into the darkness, unsure of what she'll find next.

Kaito slowly shut Kokichi's door behind him, in utter awe that he managed to sneak back in after that fiasco. He stalked back up to Kokichi's bed to, of course, find the boy still unconscious. Kaito was suddenly very aware of how tired his limbs were, still flowing with exhaustion after that sedative. He let himself sway and fall into the chair, head bowing to his chest.

He said nothing. Usually he greets the kid, but there was nothing to say this time. Kaito was just...too tired. He sat in silence, listening to the sound of Kokichi's heart monitor. An eerie, yet comforting sound. A reminder that Kokichi is alive, despite never looking more dead.

Kaito exhaled slowly, but his breath came out shakily, like he was stifling back a sob. He couldn't bring himself to look up. But he had to say something.

"Kokichi, I-"

His voice shuddered, and he cut himself off, biting his bottom lip and squeezing his eyes shut. He forced the lump back down his throat and tried again.

"I-I..."

Fuck it.

"I'm sorry!" Kaito crumpled, burying his face in his hands and doubling over in the chair, his forehead resting on his knees. His shoulders trembled with tears he refused to let flow. "This is a-all my f-fault! I'm s-sorry, I'm sorry!"

Kokichi had nothing to say to that. Though that wasn't a surprise.

Kaito was so tired.

And he had nothing else to say.

He was back in space again. That was good, it was nicer in space. No more bright, unnatural light or stiff, angry nurses. Just the gentle weightlessness of space, with the dim light of stars all around. Kaito leaned back into his weightlessness, letting space carry him off.

"Getting lazy now, Kaito?"

Kaito opened one eye. Kokichi floated above him, hands cheekily intertwined behind his back, smiling cutely. Kokichi snickered, even as blood dribbled down his chin.

"What are you doing here?" Kaito asked, furrowing his eyebrows. This was his space. And he was pretty damn sure Kokichi wasn't an astronaut.

"Silly Kaito!" Kokichi practically sang, his voice echoing into the empty oblivion around them. "This is where we all go!"

Kaito's frown deepened. "Where we all go?"

"When we die!"

The words echoed around them unendingly, surrounding Kaito until it was all he could hear. When Kokichi's mouth opened, a waterfall of bright pink blood poured out and, despite the lack of gravity, it flowed down onto Kaito. He yelped and cringed, throwing his hands up to protect his face from the onslaught of blood.

Thud.

What was that sound?! Kaito wiped the blood from his eyes and looked around frantically.

Thud!

There it was again, closer now! He looked up and saw Kokichi looking off into the distance, an amused grin on his face.

"I recognize that sound anywhere," he mused.

THUD!

Kaito flinched, looking around frantically. It sounded like the footsteps of a giant. It sounded like...

Like heavy metal slamming down on the bed of a press.

THUD!

CRUNCH!

"Ooh, gives me goosebumps," Kokichi shivered giddily. "Especially the crunching part."

THUD!

CRUNCH!

Kaito threw his hands over his ears, curling in on himself and closing his eyes. "There's no sound in space!" he argued stubbornly. "There's nothing there!"

THUD!

CRUNCH!

The sounds were impossible to block out. Kokichi started to laugh hysterically.

"That's right, Kaito!"

THUD!

CRUNCH!

Kokichi's face morphed into something horrifying. "There's nothing here!"

THUD!

Darkness.

Shuichi and Himiko sat on a couch together. In front of them, a TV screen, with the avatar of Kiibo bouncing enthusiastically.

"I'm so glad you two agreed to come and speak with me!" Kiibo announced. "It would be an honor to help you both through therapy as you work your way to being released from the hospital."

Shuichi looked around, surprised at the lack of Dr. Sho, or any doctors for that matter. They must be alone. He gave a sideways glance to the security camera in the corner.

As alone as they could be.

"Kiibo?" Himiko spoke up nervously. "A-Are you...our Kiibo?"

"Please define 'your' Kiibo," the robot-turned-computer-program cocked its virtual head.

"Do you remember us?" Himiko motioned between the two survivors. "Do you remember the simulation?

"Hm," Kiibo hummed robotically. "I do, but perhaps not in the way you are thinking."

"What do you mean, Kiibo?" Shuichi finally spoke up to ask.

"I recall the events of the killing game because it is in my programming to do so. Which means I remember every action my namesake had taken, as well as all of you. But I am different than the audience-participation robot from the simulation. I merely have these memories as a means to help you through your recovery." The avatar shook its head. "I do not feel the emotions 'I' felt."

Both Himiko and Shuichi wilted slightly. That hadn't been what they wanted to hear.

"Might I ask why Maki had not agreed to therapy with you two?" Kiibo seemed to think now was a good time to change topics. Himiko and Shuichi gave each other cautious looks. It was merely half an hour ago that they had separated from Maki, as she tried to escape. If the doctors or nurses had caught on to the fact she was missing, they hadn't made it known to the two survivors. It was best to play it low-key, until people start to realize what truly happened.

"If you have memories of the killing game, then you remember how Maki was," Shuichi pointed out. "It's going to be harder to convince her to come to therapy."

"I see! Well, hopefully she feels comfortable enough to come talk to me one day," Kiibo nodded. "Now, let's talk about you. I'm glad you two were comfortable enough to come and talk with me. What made you decide that therapy was the right route to take?"

Because we need to figure out your deal, Shuichi thought. Aloud, he said "Because we want to get out of here as soon as possible. If therapy's the way to do it, then we'll do it," he gave Himiko a little nod of encouragement.

"Very well," Kiibo said. "Then let's start by talking about your thoughts on some of your fellow characters from Danganronpa V3."

Himiko and Shuichi immediately looked uncomfortable. "W-What do you mean?" Himiko stammered.

"It's important to understand your relationships in order to recover," Kiibo explained. "Relationships were strained by the events of the killing game, and talking out those feelings will hopefully make you better understand them."

Shuichi was very confused. At this point, he was pretty damn convinced none of Team Danganronpa actually cared about their wellbeing, or their recovery. If they did, the worse-off patients wouldn't be as neglected as they are now. Shuichi wasn't sure what the end goal was here, but he was almost positive it wasn't for them to "heal". But then, what did they want? And what did having Kiibo prod into their opinions on the others do to help that?

"Our relationships aren't strained," Himiko stated stubbornly, and Shuichi wasn't sure if he agreed. But he didn't want to give Team Danganronpa the satisfaction of thinking there's something wrong.

"Is that true?" Kiibo looked unconvinced. "Then perhaps we should discuss those we feel a connection to. Himiko, it's hard to deny you felt a connection with Tenko, is that correct?"

Himiko's face went bright red, and she scowled.

"But, that was only after her death, wasn't it?" Kiibo questioned. "Why do you think that is?"

"Shut up!" Himiko snapped childishly. "I-I liked her before she died! A-And she's not dead!"

"Kiibo, stop it," Shuichi muttered.

"Perhaps it's important to think about why that is," Kiibo completely ignored Shuichi. "In fact, you were annoyed with her at every turn, until her death. Did you perhaps feel guilty for treating her that way?"

"Stop!" Himiko whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes. Shuichi shifted on the couch, one arm coming in front of Himiko protectively.

"Kiibo, stop it, this isn't like you," Shuichi said, eyebrows furrowing. Why was he asking questions like these? These aren't like questions you hear in therapy! He's just trying to cause tension! He wants us to fight?!

"I think that's enough," Shuichi suddenly stood up, pulling Himiko up with him and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "This line of questioning isn't going to help us recover."

Kiibo's eyes went wide and he looked hurt. "W-Wait, I can ask something different-"

"Maybe we're not ready for therapy," Shuichi was already steering Himiko out the door. "Goodbye, Kiibo."

As they left, Shuichi's mind was going a mile a minute. Why was this new Kiibo trying to sew seeds of animosity in their group? What could he and Team Danganronpa possibly have to gain? Does it have to do with keeping us trapped in this hospital?

What is the endgame, here?

As Kaito stirred awake, he realized he must have dozed off in a pretty uncomfortable position. His legs hung underneath him, like he was sitting in a chair, but his torso was completely folded over, his head resting on some hard lump, one hand extended and clutching...something. He twitched, moving his thumb. What was he holding?

With an exhausted moan, Kaito turned his head and forced his eyes to open. The first thing he saw was the scratchy fabric of a hospital blanket. It took a second for him to focus on the details of the fabric. As he blinked back into consciousness, he also noticed his arm, outstretched. He moved again, trying to feel what was under his hand. It was...smooth. But also...bony?

With another moan, Kaito forced his head to rise, blinking blearily and trying to focus. His hand was closed around...

Another hand?

Kaito paused in confusion at the tiny, pale hand clenched in his own. It was sweaty, balmy, definitely sickly.

That's right! He had gone to Kokichi's room!

And fell asleep holding his hand?!

Kaito quickly released Kokichi's hand, peeling away in surprise. That's awkward. Good thing Kokichi was asleep...he peered up at Kokichi to see how he was doing.

Kokichi stared back.

Kaito blinked.

Kokichi blinked.

The silence was deafening.

"You talk in your sleep," Kokichi finally said, voice muffled by the breathing mask still on top of his face.

Kaito's jaw dropped, and his mouth hung open in shock. Kokichi blinked again, seemingly waiting for a response. He didn't get one.

"And apparently, you only talk when you're asleep."

Kaito's mouth stayed ajar, eyes blown wide. Kokichi was...Kokichi was awake?! Kokichi was looking right at him, the haze cleared from his eyes, though still looking extremely exhausted. Of course the first words out of his mouth were a joke, but it was delivered entirely deadpan. As if he said the joke on autopilot, but his body was still waking up.

Kaito started to tremble. He hadn't prepared himself for this moment.

Kokichi's expression shifted as he realized the astronaut wasn't going to say anything. Slowly, his eyes trained back up towards the ceiling. "Not sure why...you're taking a nap at a time like this..." he murmured, voice uncharacteristically quiet and understated. He sounded only half-awake.

"A time...like this?" he questioned. There were so many things he could have said, that he should have said. He should have told him he was so happy he was awake, he should have told him about the simulation, he should have apologized. He should have fallen to his knees and apologized and begged for Kokichi's forgiveness. Instead, it seemed his brain went completely blank, and the only thing he could do is mindlessly repeat Kokichi's words back to him.

Kokichi's lips twitched into an exhausted after-image of a smirk. "I-It's time...to kill me...so Kaito needs...to wakey-wakey..."

Kaito's eyes widened, and his heart stopped in his chest. Right. "U-Uh, Kokichi," Kaito put one hand on his chair to keep himself from falling over. "I already...did that..."

Kokichi hummed, closing his eyes with a small, content smile. "Silly Kaito...if you already did...then why are we talking now...? I know...you didn't...come to Hell, too..."

Shit, shit. Kaito took a deep breath, steeling himself for the worst explanation of a lifetime. "Okay, Kokichi, what I'm going to say may sound insane, but just bear with me." Kokichi didn't respond, so Kaito took that as a cue to continue. "I did kill you. We followed through with your whole plan, but...Shuichi figured it out, and I got executed. Now here's where it gets weird. When we died, we didn't actually die. We were in a virtual simulation, and when we 'died', we woke up from the simulation, and now we're back in the real world. None of the killing game was real."

Kokichi blinked.

"I'm not lying, I swear, it's the truth," Kaito insisted. Kokichi's expression barely changed, except for the slightest furrow in his brow.

"I know," he said, entirely and uncharacteristically serious. "I can tell."

Kaito blinked in surprise, before letting a small, kind-of-proud smile tug at his lips. "Yeah, I guess you of all people would know if I was lying, huh?" He chuckled, feeling relieved. "I won't go into too much of it now, because you just woke up. But everyone who we thought was dead is okay, they're alive, they're here with us."

Kokichi looked pensively from Kaito to the ceiling above. "But if it was all virtual, then why can't I..." he trailed off, and then sighed, seemingly giving up on that line of questioning. He looked back at Kaito, his head lolling lazily on his pillow. "So then, what are you doing here?"

Kaito looked surprised. "I've been waiting for you to wake up!"

Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed even more, and Kaito decided that confusion did not look normal on this kid's face. He was so used to Kokichi being a know-it-all, and now he was being all quiet, understated, and confused. "Why?" Kokichi asked.

"Why?!" Kaito exclaimed right back at him. "B-Because I killed you! I couldn't just leave you here alone when I'm the reason you're in that hospital bed in the first place!" Kaito didn't really think this was the time for explaining just why it was his fault Kokichi had been in a coma. "I killed you, Kokichi! I can't take that back, even if it was all a simulation. We thought it was real. Why am I staying here? Because I needed to make sure you were okay!"

Kokichi snickered, but he had never looked more tired. "So I'm...your responsibility? ...Silly Kaito, you forgot...you hate me..."

"No, man, I don't!" Kaito insisted. "Things changed in the hangar, Kokichi. I know who you are now. And I'm not going to leave your side-"

"Oh, drop it!" Kokichi snapped impatiently, making Kaito's mouth slam shut. "Even out of the simulation, you still have your damn guilty hero complex!" Kokichi was glaring up at him now, and Kaito wasn't sure if he liked this expression more than the blank one from just seconds ago.

"What?!"

"You don't like me," Kokichi growled. It wasn't an excuse for pity, either. He was glaring up at Kaito, fully believing every word. "You just feel guilty for squishing me. You think being by my side now is going to make you feel better about what you did, but it won't. You killed me because I told you to, Momota, nothing more. I played you, just like I played everyone else in that stupid game." Kokichi smiled at the ceiling, but there was something darker brewing underneath. Kaito wondered who that darkness was directed towards. "I played, and I lost."

"Kokichi-"

"Don't," Kokichi's voice held none of the malice it used to. In fact, it held none of the emotion it used to. He just sounded...tired. So, so tired. "Don't delude yourself into thinking you care about me, Kaito. We're out of the game now. You don't have to play the tragic hero anymore."

Kaito blinked owlishly at Kokichi. Is that...is that what's going on here? Did he really stick by Kokichi's side these past few days because of guilt? Was he really so stuck in his character that, even now, he feels the need to be responsible for anyone but himself?

Kaito slowly leaned back in his chair, gaze shifting towards the wall across from him.

Holy shit.

Was this all just some selfish need to believe that he didn't kill someone?

Kaito glanced back down at Kokichi, immobile and staring upwards blankly. He may not have killed someone, but he did very well ruin their life. Was this all an attempt to not feel as guilty about it?

"Kokichi, I'm sorry," Kaito whispered, one hand raising to cover his mouth. Kokichi shook his head.

"You have nothing to apologize for. Just get out."

"But-"

"Get out," Kokichi sounded like he wanted to snap, but he didn't have the energy to do so. "I refuse to be another 'sidekick' you use to ignore your own problems, and I refuse to be your pawn in escaping whatever guilt has been instilled in you. You may have played my game, Kaito, but I won't play yours. Now leave. Me. Alone."

Kaito abruptly stood up from the chair, making it rattle against the floor. Kokichi still didn't look at him. Kaito opened his mouth to say something, but found he had nothing more to say.

Kokichi was still an asshole outside of the game. But Kaito was really no better.

He silently spun on his heel and stormed towards the door, throwing it open aggressively. Fully intending for this to be the last time he ever bothered being in this room, he slammed the door shut behind him.

Chapter Text

The first time Kokichi had woken up, he thought he was still under the press.

More specifically, that the press had stopped in the middle of crushing him. He was completely immobile, and in the worst agony he had ever felt before. It felt like his skull was half-crushed, his brain just in-tact enough to register in the incredible amount of pain. He felt as if he was starting to split apart at the seams, his skin ripping from itself and blood seeping through the tears. He felt like a water balloon, being pushed dangerously close to its limits, and it was painful.

It probably would have been less painful to wish for death, to finally be put out of his agony. Instead, for some reason, he had begged for Kaito turn off the press. He just needed this unbearable weight off of him. Like the world's worst weighted blanket, pushing down on him with no hope for release.

The pain was horrible, agonizing even, but it only lasted mere seconds. Then, something warm started coursing through his arm. His brain went fuzzy after that, and he allowed the warmth to take over his entire being, slipping back into the numb darkness.

The second time he had woken up, he had been surprised to find Kaito sleeping on his leg, one hand holding his tenderly. Kokichi twitched, but was unable to pull his hand out from his grasp. That was strange, it wasn't like Kaito was holding him all that tightly.

Kokichi tried to sit up, to push Kaito off of him. His body refused to move.

That's when he started to panic. His breath picked up, and he soon caught on to the sound of a rapid beeping. His eyes snapped to the side, where he saw a heart monitor. His heart monitor. Shit, that wasn't good. He forced himself to take deep breaths, he had to get his heart rate down before anyone realized he was panicking. That's when he realized there was a mask over his mouth and nose, forcing air into his lungs.

He tried to rip off the mask. His hand wouldn't move.

Eventually, Kaito had woken up, and thankfully let go of his hand. The guy looked mortified, and started talking about how the killing game was all was a virtual simulation. Kokichi wanted nothing more than to believe this was just the punishment Hell had made for him, but...Kaito was telling the truth. If there was one thing Kokichi could do, it was tell that he was being honest.

Kaito started going on in his typical moronic way, about how he needed to take responsibility for his actions and blah blah blah... Honestly, Kokichi was a little offended. He didn't want to be another cog in Kaito's weird machine of self pity. And it was rude of him to see him as just another "responsibility". 

So, he did what he was good at. He pushed him away. He pushed and pushed until Kaito stormed out of the room. Kokichi sighed with relief, eyes going back to the ceiling. Good. Kaito left before he could realize just how vulnerable Kokichi really was.

With that thought in mind, and the eerie inability to move his body, Kokichi's eyes fell closed once more.

The third time he had woken up, there were nurses around him. He tried to mask his confusion and discomfort with quips as they flit about, checking his vitals. Finally, finally, the mask was removed, when they decided that Kokichi could breathe without it, and wouldn't just up and die on them. He kinda wished he did, though, it would be a hilarious prank on them.

They explained in much better detail than Kaito what the situation was. How the simulation worked. How popular Danganronpa was (he gave himself a little mental fist pump at the confirmation of his theory of "this is all a tv show"). How his whole identity was merely a character written for their fifty third season.

They showered him with encouragement and compliments, telling him how he was such a trooper for making it through that coma. They told him about the grand mal seizure, and the chances of it happening again. They told him how now that he was awake, they'd love for him to go and interact with his classmates. They seemed to be thrilled by the idea of him reintegrating with everybody.

Kokichi told them sure, just as soon as they un-paralyzed his fucking body.

For a day or two, Kokichi was only visited by nurses, shuffling about as he blankly watched the screen in front of him. He now sat propped up against some pillows, watching on-screen Shuichi stumble through the final trial, desperately trying to keep himself from falling into despair. He had watched the entirety of the fifty third season of Danganronpa, watching with an intense interest that refused to be distracted by anything else.

The reveal of Tsumugi being the mastermind was stupid. A cosplayer as the big bad? Kokichi would never have watched this show.

He was so pissed he hadn't figured it out.

The nurses often spoke to him about "physical therapy" for his "paralyzation". Kokichi didn't like hearing that word out loud, but he supposed that's what it was. Apparently, there was a mental block keeping his body from moving. Something about his body being fully destroyed in the simulation is effecting him now, and it pissed him off.

Ultimately, it didn't matter, he supposed. The killing game was over. That was his one and only goal. He could rest easy now.

Right?

Bedridden, Kokichi's eyebrow twitched.

Danganronpa made a big mistake when writing a character whose sole motivation was to end the killing game.

Kokichi spent a few days alone, with only nurses and physical therapists for company. For a while, he couldn't eat solid food, and he was hydrated through an IV. Lucky him, he's now been upgraded to eating mush, like apple sauce and Jello. Maybe someday, he'll work his way up to oatmeal.

Yay.

They got started pretty quickly on the physical therapy. Starting small, the therapist's worked on moving Kokichi's hands. They would take his hands in theirs and stretch out his fingers, roll his wrists. God, he wanted nothing more than to push them away, to get them to stop touching him.

Eventually, his fingers twitched, all on their own.

The nurses celebrated.

After a couple more days, Kokichi's arms were moving. He didn't have a wide range of motion, and he really couldn't lift anything yet, but it was a start. He wasn't going to be stuck immobile for the rest of his life.

After those few days, Kokichi had a surprise visit. It wasn't a doctor, or nurse, or physical therapist.

It was Rantaro Amami.

Kokichi blinked owlishly as Rantaro slipped quietly into his hospital room. The mysterious boy didn't seem surprised by Kokichi being awake, he only shot him a small smile.

"Hey there, Kokichi. Good to see you."

Kokichi just stared as Rantaro approached the bed, seemingly unfazed by the lack of response he got. He pulled up a chair beside the bed and made himself comfortable, eyeballing the tv. The sixth trial of the fifty third season was playing, but it was on mute. Kokichi didn't need volume to know what happens, he had watched it over and over enough times. Rantaro turned back to Kokichi, and if he was concerned by the fact the killing game was on the tv, he didn't show it.

Kokichi looked Rantaro up and down, his weak hands resting in his lap.

"Guess we really aren't dead, huh?"

Rantaro chuckled good-naturedly at that. "Nope. We really aren't."

They sat in silence for the rest of the afternoon, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

After Amami broke the invisible seal across Kokichi's hospital room door, the rest came flooding in. First, unsurprisingly, was Gonta. Kokichi froze up as the big teen hunched through the doorway and stood nervously at the foot of the bed, wringing his hands together. No. No. He was not ready for this conversation.

"Gonta- uh," Gonta cut himself off. "I just wanted to say-"

"Save it," Kokichi found himself spitting venomously. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say." He can't, not here, not now. Not while he still couldn't move, couldn't run away.

Gonta's eyes widened, and tears immediately started to form. That wasn't surprising, Gonta had always been a crybaby, but Kokichi wasn't about to indulge in the horrible guilty twist in his own stomach.

"Get out."

"B-But-"

"Get OUT!"

Gonta ran away.

Kirumi was next. Kokichi wasn't thrilled to see her either. She entered silently, as if she had nothing to say to him. The only sound filling the room were the even click-clacks of her crutches. Kokichi pretended not to be surprised to see her legs in such a state. She pulled up a chair, just as Rantaro had done, and sat. She watched Kokichi, apparently waiting for him to speak first.

"If you're expecting a heartfelt reunion, you came to the wrong hospital room," Kokichi finally spoke up. Kirumi's expression barely shifted, besides a slight furrow of her eyebrows. She looked... disappointed. And god, for some reason, that hurt more than anything.

"I wanted to apologize, on Gonta's behalf."

Well, that was unexpected. Kokichi frowned slightly. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Kirumi cleared her throat. "I had advised against Gonta coming to see you so soon after you woke up. I imagine it is not easy waking up from a coma, and I had seen his trial. I knew it would be a...strenuous reunion, for both you and him. Despite my objections, however, Gonta came to see you anyway. He wants to...needs to talk to you, and that is a conversation I cannot have for you. But to assume that you were in any state to see one of your victims after such a traumatizing death yourself," Kirumi shook her head. "Was inexcusable."

Kokichi's jaw damn near dropped, but he tried to hold it together. Victim. His victim. That's what Gonta was to him. It didn't matter if he didn't lay a hand on him, Kokichi alone was responsible for Gonta's death.

Suddenly, he couldn't look at her. He sharply turned his head away, hissing aggressively though his teeth.

"It took a while for me to be able to even lay eyes on Ryoma," Kirumi admitted patiently. "Believe it or not, he was the one who approached me first." She cleared her throat, and hesitated. Admitting what came next must have been hard, but Kokichi didn't have time to feel pity, or sympathy. "He told me that...even if I hadn't apologized yet, he understood why I did what I did and...and he forgave me," the last part came out as a whisper. But Kokichi had heard. Oh, he heard. "I hadn't even gotten the chance to apologize, and he forgave me." She looked back up at Kokichi, who was still refusing to meet her gaze. "After that, I haven't stopped apologizing since. And he may insist that it is unnecessary, and I may never make up for what I've done but...it feels good. It feels good to say sorry. Perhaps, it would feel good for you, as well?"

Kokichi inhaled shakily, but refused to respond.

Kirumi did not seem surprised. She pushed herself up from the chair, clipping her crutches back to her arms. "It really is good to see you awake," she said. "Believe it or not, a lot of people have been waiting. Perhaps you shouldn't push them away."

She left, but Kokichi didn't really feel alone.

A few people didn't make it to his room, but he wasn't too surprised by that. He still had yet to see Angie, or Shinguji, or any of the survivors. He wasn't all that insulted by it. He was sure none of them wanted to see him. He supposed he was a little curious about Shinguji, but that was about it. 

Kaede showed up after Kirumi, clutching a notebook to her chest. She looked at him and said nothing. Kokichi knew why.

"You just gonna stand there and stare at me?" he asked with an irritated sneer. Kaede's surprised face fell into an unsurprised frown. She marched into the room and shoved a piece of paper in his hands.

Apologize to Kaito.

She was the first to bring him up directly. Kokichi was quick to crumple the paper into a ball. If he had enough mobility, he would have thrown it back at Kaede.

"For what? Not falling for his guilty hero schtick?" he asked with a giddy sort of anger. As if pushing everyone away felt good. "I'm not like Shumai, or Maki Roll. I'm not going to idolize and praise him for looking at me like his little pet project. I may be fucked up, but I'm not his problem to fix. He just wants another person to look down on, to see as inferior, so he doesn't look too long at his own problems."

Kaede's face was red with fury by now.

He is genuinely sorry. You should have seen him. He hadn't left your side.

"I don't care," Kokichi emphasized. "It was my plan. He has nothing to be sorry for. If he wants to keep wallowing in guilt, he can be my guest, but he's not dragging me into his poorly-written soap opera."

Kaede looked down at him like he was scum. Good. He was getting rather sick of the sympathetic looks anyway.

"I'm not apologizing for what I said to him," Kokichi said with an air of finality. "And if he's still being a crybaby about it, tell him to man up and move on."

And thus, Kaede left his room as well, another student successfully pushed away. That's fine, he had a certain spot in his heart to hate Kaede. She started the killing game, even if she didn't technically hurt Rantaro. Kokichi was written to not forgive murderers, even if he had ended up indirectly becoming one himself.

Hoshi visited as well, surprisingly enough. The two of them hadn't gotten to interact much during the killing game. He didn't offer up too much conversation, he just fiddled with an inhaler like he used to with his candy cigarettes and watched the killing game play on Kokichi's tv screen. They talked a little bit about things to do in the hospital, how Hoshi could teach Kokichi some fun card games, once he was feeling more up to it.

Kokichi didn't mention that he probably couldn't move his hands well enough to play card games.

Hoshi wished him a good recovery, and said he hoped to see him out of the room soon.

Kokichi didn't mention that he probably wouldn't be able to leave the room ever.

Miu was the surprise guest star of the week. When she entered, she said nothing. Made sense. Kirumi had warned him of everyone's issues, and apparently strangling Miu wasn't helpful to her vocal cords. She stood in the door, back straight, muscles tight, eyes glaring. She looked like she was exuding confidence, but Kokichi saw the lie. The harder someone tries to look confident, the more cowardly they truly are.

Kokichi didn't say a word. Yes, Miu may be another one of his victims, but he wasn't ready to do anything about that. He couldn't even lift a pen. Talking to the people he killed was too heavy a load for him to carry.

Miu stared at him, and he stared back. Neither seemed ready to back down, but neither ready to talk either.

So, eventually, Miu settled in the chair behind him. And they didn't talk, together.

Miu came often after that, but they never spoke. Kokichi wasn't sure why. But it's not like he could do anything about it, and well, it's not like she was trying to have the conversation. As long as things stayed that way, they weren't going to have a problem. Miu would come in and mindlessly flip through a magazine, her feet propped up obnoxiously on his hospital bed. Kokichi would stare straight ahead, as the fifty third season played for the hundredth time.

One day, in the middle of magazine-and-Danganronpa time, something smacked him in the head. He glanced over at her, offended, before looking down in his lap. It was a piece of crumpled up paper. He took it into his trembling hands (he wasn't nervous or anything, his hands trembled constantly under the strain of atrophied muscles) and attempted to un-crumple it. It took a second, his fine-motor skills weren't what they used to be. Miu waited.

Why do you watch this shit over and over?

The first thing Miu "says" to Kokichi, and it's this? Kokichi looks up at the killing game on the screen, and then at her.

"It's fun," he lies through his teeth, trying to plaster on one of his old 'evil smiles'. It probably wasn't as demonic as it was in the simulation. "Isn't that why we went through all this? To entertain people?"

Miu gave him a look of disgust. She glanced up at the screen and watched as Kirumi fell several stories. She leaned back in the chair and flicked open her magazine.

The next day, Kokichi was greeted yet again with a note to the temple. He shot Miu another glare as he struggled to pick up the slip of paper. He let the note sit in his lap, it was too hard to read when it was in his perpetually-shaking hands.

You're full of shit!

Kokichi looked back up at her as she stood over his bed with a glare.

"That's not a very nice thing to say," was all he could come up with.

She gave the tv a vicious look before turning back to him. He did the same.

"Oh, you mean about finding this fun?" he asked, cocking his head towards the screen. "Yeahhhh, you caught me. It's actually super duper boring! Gotta say, we weren't entertaining characters at all."

Miu scowled, looking dissatisfied with his answer.

"Look, if you thought I was lying before, why didn't you say anything 'till now?" Kokichi asked.

Miu snarled and frantically scribbled something down.

Because what you said pissed me off!

"A lot of things I say piss people off, Miu," Kokichi cocked his head playfully, despite the emotionless expression on his face. "Don't take it too personally."

You're planning something, aren't you?

That next note surprised Kokichi a little bit. He looked down at it with wide eyes, then up at Miu, who crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. Keeping his expression carefully neutral, Kokichi started to tear up her note, his hands shaking with effort.

"It's so mean of you to assume I'm planning anything," he said, leaning over slightly and using what little strength he had to dump the tiny shreds of paper into the cup of water beside his bed. "I'm done with plots, Miu. The game's over. Accept it."

Miu's face contorted as it couldn't decide what emotion to land on. Incredulous, horror, anger, confusion. Grim acceptance. She spun on her heel and left him once again.

For some reason, after that, Miu became his most frequent visitor. Everyone who visited seemed to come solo, for whatever reason. Rantaro would show up frequently as well, to innocently chat about the goings-on outside of his stuffy hospital room. Hoshi and Kirumi would come as well, though less so. Hoshi would just come and visit, saying he needed a break from the energetic group of students outside. Kirumi would come and let Kokichi talk about whatever he wanted. Gonta never showed up again. Neither had Kaito.

Kokichi grew more and more used to Miu's presence. The quiet was a welcome change from the loud, abrasive girl. Though perhaps he only told himself that so he wouldn't feel guilty that he was the reason she was mute in the first place.

She wasn't nice to him, by any means, but Kokichi appreciated the honesty. As he started to grow more comfortable around her, he would start to do more physical therapy in her presence. He would squeeze his little hand weights, working so that his fingers would stop shaking. Miu, growing curious, would start to play with the wights as well, studying them intensely as only a former-inventor could.

Eventually, she caught on.

"You can't move, can you?" she asked one day, fiddling with the weights. Kokichi startled at the sound of her actual voice, turning to look at her in surprise.

"Y-You can talk?!" slipped from his lips before he could hide the surprise in his voice. Miu smiled to herself, an understated and almost sad smile.

"Barely," the word came out as a pained hiss. It sounded like she was gargling gravel in her throat. Kokichi nearly winced himself, hearing it sound that strained. "Why haven't you..." she cleared her throat and tried again. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Kokichi sighed, leaning his head back against the wall, squeezing the weight as tightly as he could. "No one ever asked. What, did you think I was just sitting in my bed all day because I'm lazy?" his eyes grew wide, and tears welled up. "You're so mean!"

Miu rolled her eyes, but thankfully gave her voice a rest by not giving a response.

"Honestly, I'm surprised the nurses didn't tell you guys. Sue me, for assuming you all already knew," Kokichi shrugged.

"I don't know why, but those fuckers have said nothing about you," Miu said with the voice of a suffocating cat. Kokichi shivered at that visual.

"Well, there's no reason to go around telling people," Kokichi said casually, as if he didn't care.

Miu looked at him like she wanted to say something, but whatever was on her mind, she kept to herself. She sighed, reaching over and snatching Kokichi's cup of water for herself. She took a swig while Kokichi gave a half-hearted glare.

"Hey."

"You weren't drinking it," Miu put a hand to her throat and coughed a little.

Kokichi took a second to look at her. In her hospital-issued gown, constantly clearing her throat. That was his fault, wasn't it? What was it Kirumi had said, all those days ago? That apologizing made her feel better? A couple days ago, Kokichi would have gagged at the thought of apologizing, of even acknowledging their situation at all. And he still really didn't feel like opening up to any of the others.

But Miu was different. Miu came to his room every day. Miu "chatted" to the best of her ability, or just sat reading magazines, or fiddling with his PT tools. Miu acted like things were normal between them, despite the situation. Despite killing her.

Miu hadn't said a goddamn word about anything.

And damn him, that actually made Kokichi wanna open up more.

So, he cleared his throat, catching her attention. "Listen, I..." he trailed off, realizing he had never really apologized to someone before. "It's not lost on me that the reason you died in the simulation...well, it was all my fault." He heaved a deep sigh, as if admitting that was physically exhausting. He turned to look at her, trying to keep his face carefully neutral. "I'm sorry."

Miu blinked at him. Kokichi shrunk back slightly, his face instinctively wanting to sneer.

"When you used to come to me," Miu cleared her throat, but her voice only grew more hoarse. Kokichi blinked in surprise at the seemingly completely unrelated comment. "With your blueprints and your ideas. They were fun to build together."

Kokichi arched an eyebrow, clearly waiting for her to continue. Miu coughed and sipped at his (now her) water, scratching at her neck.

"We bickered, sure. But we were...getting along, I think? I don't- I never really had friends. Or at least, I was programmed to not have friends," Miu's eyebrows furrowed at that. "And...maybe we were. In the game. But I still tried to kill you," she looked up, into his eyes for perhaps the first time that whole conversation. "I tried to kill one of the only people in the game that I could have possibly called my friend. I am the one who should be apologizing to you."

Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed, clearly frustrated. "But...I'm the one that killed you."

"It was self defense!" Miu exclaimed before doubling over in a barrage of coughs. Kokichi was polite enough to wait until she was finished.

"Yeah, well. I didn't give you guys many reasons to want to keep me alive," he admitted. Miu flinched at that, ducking her head away from his gaze once again.

"Well, then, maybe we both fucked up."

Kokichi looked at her. "Yeah. Maybe we did."

Miu coughed a bit more, taking another drink of water once she could. "So, can we both be sorry?"

Kokichi thought about it for a moment, taking a deep breath through his nose and glancing back at the tv screen. The game was paused during Miu's trial.

"Yeah, okay," he nodded. "We can both be sorry."

Miu still visited after that, but Kokichi tried to keep the talking to a minimum, for the sake of her ruined vocal chords. At one point, Kirumi had returned, and he could tell that Miu told her about their talk. She didn't say anything about it, but she seemed pleased. So Kokichi tried to bully her a bit more than usual, to wipe that proud mother look off her face. It didn't really work.

Rantaro was his usual, patient self, bless him. He told Kokichi about the antics of the outside. Of Tenko's journey into accepting men. Of Angie starting a little mini art club with Himiko and Kaede, as well as some others. A few names were mysteriously left out of his report. Maki. Gonta. Kaito.

Shuichi.

Where the hell was Shuichi?

Kokichi didn't want to admit it, but he did kind of expect the detective to visit him at least once. As Rantaro rambled on about the amusing finger painting attempts of the art club, Kokichi's mind wandered. Himiko was mentioned in Rantaro's report, so obviously the survivors were still in the hospital. So why hadn't Shuichi come to bother him like so many others?

"And then that's when Angie hosted Himiko and I's wedding. It was a beautiful affair, I wish you could have been there."

Kokichi blinked back into reality, turning back to Rantaro incredulously. "Huh?!"

Rantaro chuckled in quiet amusement. "I could tell you stopped listening a long time ago, so I kept telling more and more outrageous stories. That's what brought you back, huh?"

"That's a mean joke," Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed. "I was really excited for a second. Himiko would make a lovely wife for you." Kokichi put a trembling finger to his chin, cocking his head as if in thought. "However, since I not only wasn't invited, but wasn't your best man, I would have to legally kill you..."

Rantaro laughed, leaning back in his chair. "If I do get married, I promise you'll be first on the invite list."

"Good," Kokichi scoffed with a raised chin. Rantaro smiled warmly.

"What's on your mind, Kokichi?"

The little Supreme Leader scoffed in indignation, turning his head away. "Nothing, just the lack of loyalty from my underlings."

Rantaro sighed. "It's either Kaito, Gonta, or Shuichi."

Kokichi shot Rantaro a little, surprised look. How did he-?

"Those three in particular haven't visited, and I figured that would probably bug you," Rantaro answered the question Kokichi never asked. "So, which one?"

Kokichi frowned. "Shuichi," he grumbled.

"Well, that's an easy one," Rantaro sighed. "He hasn't visited because he's been stuck in therapy."

Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed. "Therapy? Our dear, totally-not-depressed detective?"

Rantaro gave him a tired look. "It's a bit more than that. The survivors need to pass some standards in order to leave the hospital. Shuichi has been in there every day. I think he's trying to figure out what the deal is with this hospital, and why none of us can leave."

Well, I know why I can't leave, Kokichi thought, his hands tightening on his thin blanket. "There's a deal with this hospital?"

Rantaro's look was flat and unimpressed. "Kokichi, I'm sure you've long caught on by now that this hospital is suspicious."

"Huh, really?" Kokichi cocked his head and tapped his lips thoughtfully. "What's so suspicious about it? Is it the fact we can't leave? The fact that we know nothing about the outside world? The fact that there are no windows? How about-?"

"Okay, yeah, I get it," Rantaro sighed. "I'm a little worried about him, to be honest. I think he's overworking himself, trying to figure out what's going on."

"Yeah, well, detective's gon' detect," Kokichi shrugged, looking like he didn't care.

"As for Gonta, he's been okay, hanging out with everybody," Rantaro reported even though Kokichi didn't ask. "I think he's giving you space because you want it, not because he wants it, you know?"

Fine by Kokichi. He may have settled things with Miu, but Gonta was different. Gonta was sad, with those big, begging eyes. Gonta was forgiving. Gonta was sympathetic. Miu was as guilty as Kokichi was. Gonta was innocent. Kokichi really didn't want to talk it out with him. Not right now.

"Good. I did ask for him to leave me alone," Kokichi said coldly. Rantaro's eyes pinched, looking disappointed, but Kokichi didn't let himself get bothered by that.

"And Kaito-"

"I don't need to hear that one," Kokichi waved him off. "I'm sure our dear hero is off feeling sorry for himself. He's getting no sympathy out of me."

Rantaro sighed, sounding exhausted. "Why do you have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"Push everyone away?"

"I don't do that!" Kokichi gasped dramatically, putting a hand on his heart. "I would never push you away, my beloved Amami!"

Rantaro tried not to look amused by that. "I'm just saying, Kaito was really worried about you while you were unconscious."

"Is that so?" Kokichi asked, deadpan and emotionless.

"It might be a good idea to talk to him," Rantaro pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I'm clearly not moving anywhere any time soon," Kokichi growled, animosity growing more and more as this conversation continued in a direction he didn't like. Rantaro's eyebrows furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

Oh right, they don't know. Kokichi froze. "Nothing. Just means I don't like gettin' out of bed, is all."

Rantaro's expression melted into sympathy. "Kokichi, I know you can't move."

Kokichi's face fell into a neutral expression, betraying no emotions.

"Come on, don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Hide from me. You think I wouldn't have noticed by now, coming here as often as I do?"

"Well, if you know, then obviously you know I can't go talk to Kaito," Kokichi spat.

"Sure, but maybe he could come to you-"

"Why would Kaito every come to me?" Kokichi chuckled humorlessly. "That moron hates me. Nothing has changed."

Rantaro sighed, rising from his seat, as if showing off his fancy ability to stand up. "I think you know that's not true."

Kokichi glared at him, his blood starting to boil with anger. "Rantaro, drop it."

"I just think-"

"That's an order from your Supreme Leader. Drop. It."

"Kokichi, what are you so afraid of-"

"Go away!" Kokichi threw his hands over his ears. "I'm not afraid! I'm pissed off! Go away!"

"Kokichi..."

"I'm not listening!" Kokichi sang over Rantaro's disappointed tone, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn't see Rantaro's expression, but he did hear him sigh and leave the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Kokichi's hands fell back to his lap, trembling with exhaustion. His gaze rose back up to the screen. Danganronpa V3 was paused on Miu's trial again, this time on the part where Kaito was voting for Kokichi to die, despite knowing the true story. He glared at the screen with an anger he hadn't felt in a while. Not since he woke up.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could take being stuck in the hospital.

He almost wished he just went right back to sleep, and didn't wake up.

Another day passed, rather uneventfully. His only visitors were nurses and physical therapists. Miu didn't usually show up too early in the day. Kokichi wondered if he had finally pushed Rantaro away for good. He kind of hoped he did. His gaze was a little too sympathetic, a little too caring. It made Kokichi feel small and pathetic, and he was not small and pathetic. He wasn't going to let another person look at him like that again.

He squeezed his PT weights with newfound determination.

Kokichi's door slammed opened, and the poor boy startled, dropping his PT weight into his lap.

Kaito stood in the doorway, breathing heavily, face flushed from an unreadable emotion.

"You're paralyzed?!"

Chapter Text

"You're paralyzed?!"

"What the hell are you doing in here?!" Kokichi snapped angrily as Kaito stormed into the room for the first time in days.

"Is that why you haven't left your room?!" Kaito exclaimed, ignoring the question. "Of course it is, that was stupid! Ugh, how did I not notice?! How could you not tell me?!"

"I'm sorry, do we really talk that much that you think I would tell you?"

Kaito's tirade continued as if he hadn't even heard him. "Here I thought you were just ignoring all of us, or you were still too sick to leave your room! Now I have to hear from fucking Miu that you can't move?!"

"Miu told you-?!"

"If you thought Miu could keep a secret, then you're a bigger idiot than I took you for!" Kaito snapped, shoving his finger into Kokichi's face and looking directly at him for the first time since he entered the room. Kokichi tried to swat his hand away, which was a huge mistake, as his hand limply batted against his hand and fell to his lap.

"I don't want your pity, Momota, just go!"

"Kokichi, you don't get it!" Kaito snapped. "It's my fault you're like this now!"

"Again, with the 'you're my responsibility' act?!" Kokichi groaned. "Get this into your thick, dumb skull. I. Am. No one's. Responsibility. I'm a big boy, and I made my own decisions, so you can fuck off with this moral high-ground bullshit!"

"You-"

No, no, it was Kokichi's damn turn to talk. "If you really fucking cared about me, you would have shown your stupid, ugly face! It's been a week! Where the hell have you been?! You don't get to act like you give a shit just 'cause now you know I'm paralyzed!"

"What?! I-" Kaito sputtered incredulously. "I was giving you space that you demanded, asshole! You made me think I was the bad guy for being concerned about you! All this time, I thought you were right, and that I only cared because for some, selfish reason, I thought it would make me feel less guilty."

"And what? Now that you know I can't walk, you come crawling back?" Kokichi snapped. "Save it, Momota, I don't want your worthless pity!" Something was making his blood boil. It was probably Kaito storming in here after a week and picking a fight. Kokichi prided himself on his ability to control his emotions, but he was running on apple sauce and spite right now, and he was about to explode.

"This isn't some guilt complex, Kokichi!" Kaito shouted. "Damn it, why is it so hard to believe I actually care about-"

"SHUT UP!" Kokichi bellowed in an explosion of rage. Kaito reeled back, clearly surprised, never having seen Kokichi so furious before, but now the volcano is erupting, and all the lava came spilling out. "Just shut up, you stupid fucking hero-complex protagonist cliche motherfucker! I never asked for your pity, I don't want your pity, and if you keep insisting on looking down on me like I'm some damn tragic orphan baby you need to take care of, I'll fucking kill you, do you understand?! I am a Supreme Leader! I am not some sad soul you can scoop up into your weird harem of losers, I am not pathetic, and don't you dare-" Kokichi's tirade cut off as he choked on his words, his body seizing up. His chest froze, and his face turned blue.

"Kokichi?!" Kaito exclaimed as he went rigid in his bed, as if in rigor mortis. "K-Kokichi?!" any anger in his voice was replaced by sudden concern as the former astronaut lunged for Kokichi's bed and grabbed his hand. "A-Answer me, man!"

Kokichi's eyes rolled to meet Kaito's gaze, wide and frozen in horror. His body trembled uncontrollably. "G-Get it off!..."

"No, no, not this again," Kaito mumbled, desperately grabbing at Kokichi's body. "Please, Kokichi, I'm sorry!"

But Kokichi was already slipping. His gaze turned to the ceiling, which shone like the top half of a metallic press. He was laying on the wound in his back, and it hurt. It burned from the touch of Strike-9 poison, coursing into his veins like fast-acting venom. He choked, grasping at something- was that Kaito's hand?- as the poison worked its way through his system. He could feel tears running down his cheeks, as hot as lava. He rocked a little, mumbling to himself. "It hurts...it hurts..."

"Come on, man, don't make me call the nurses," said a muffled voice in the distance. Kokichi squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth, whining against the pain. Kaito, where was Kaito?!

"I'm right here!"

Where did he go?! Why is everything so dark?! It hurts!

"Please, Kokichi, look at me! I'm right here!"

Was the arrow still in his back? He needed to get it out, maybe that would lessen the burning pain that was quickly traveling down his spine.

"W-What's going on?!" a new muffled voice asked from the void.

"Rantaro! I don't know, we were f-fighting, and he just seized up! I-I think he thinks he's in the hangar again!"

"Kokichi? Kokichi, can you hear me?!"

"I've been trying that!"

"We should get a nurse!"

"No, no, they'll just hurt him! Shit, shit, this is all my fault!"

Kokichi tried to get his muscles to relax. It hurt, being strained and pulled this hard. He just wanted it to be over.

"Don't talk like that, Kokichi!"

Talk like what? Who was that?

"It's me, kid, it's Kaito! Remember? The stupid hero-complex moron?"

Kaito...maybe he could take out the arrow.

"There's no arrow, Kokichi!" the voice sounded like it was sobbing now. Was Kaito crying...?

"Kaito, his heart rate is getting too high, I need to get somebody."

"N-No!"

"I'm sorry, but I know the nurses won't let him die!"

"H-He's not dying!"

"Kaito..."

Kokichi's body trembled once, then relaxed against the hydraulic press. Finally, some relief. He was ready, Kaito. Drop the press.

"N-No, don't fucking talk like that, Kokichi!"

Time to rest.

"Kokichi!"

To the slowly quieting sound of the voice calling from a far distance, Kokichi slipped into a calm darkness. All he could hear was the whirring sound of the press starting back up again.

When Rantaro returned to Kokichi's room, hours after Kokichi's fit, he wasn't surprised to find Kaito sitting beside the bed, his head in his hands. Well, hand. The other hand was outstretched, holding onto Kokichi's as if that alone would keep him from slipping into a coma again. Rantaro had ended up calling some nurses, who were quick to sedate him. That had upset Kaito a lot, but Rantaro was here this time, to intervene. With enough smooth talking, the nurses had allowed Kaito to stay.

"You can't stay in here forever," Rantaro said as gently as possible. Kaito's head raised slightly, but he didn't look at him.

"Yes, I can," he said, his voice exhausted, sounding as if he had been crying. "W-Where's Shuichi?"

Rantaro sighed. "Still with the new Kiibo."

Kaito shook his head, gaze far away. "He's still trying to figure out how to escape, after all this time." Kaito heaved an exhausted sigh. "And still no word from Maki Roll?"

Rantaro shook his head. Kaito wasn't looking at him, but he didn't need to see to know the response.

"Kokichi was asking about Shuichi earlier, you said," Kaito started. He sounded very un-Kaito-ish, his voice drained of any energy or optimism and replaced with a tired acceptance. "He still hasn't visited, huh?"

Rantaro shook his head again. "At least, not while Kokichi's been conscious. Shuichi's come in a few times while he was asleep to check on him, but I didn't tell Kokichi that. I think...I think Shuichi's worried about him, but is avoiding talking to him, at least for now."

"Makes sense, last we talked, he was still feeling partially guilty for what happened to Kokichi," Kaito mumbled.

Rantaro wasn't an idiot. He could see that both the detective and Kaito still beat themselves up over what happened to Kokichi. And hearing what the boy mumbled while his body was wracked with a poison that wasn't actually there...it must have only made him feel worse. It was mostly unintelligible, but he could make out some of what Kokichi had been saying.

It was concerning, to say the least.

Rantaro took a seat next to Kaito and put his hand on his shoulder in what was hopefully an encouraging motion.

"This is all my fault, Rantaro," Kaito sighed, his hands dropping into his lap. "Why do I always have to pick a fight with him?"

"In your defense, Kokichi often fights just as much as you do."

"I came in too strong," Kaito shook his head. "I just want him to realize that I don't pity him. I don't think he's pathetic, not at all!" he exclaimed, as if defending himself to Rantaro.

"The problem is he doesn't see people caring about him," Rantaro explained. "He sees people looking down on him. Even if that's completely not the case, that's how he sees it. He's just so paranoid, that he wants to make himself as big and scary as possible. I think he's just protecting himself," Rantaro turned to Kokichi's unconscious body with a sad look. "But all he's doing is pushing away the ones that care about him."

"He only has us, now," Kaito said. "And we only have each other. We don't know what the rest of the outside world is like, but for now, we only have this little group of...of fucking murderers and victims. He can't afford to push us away."

Rantaro scratched at the back of his neck, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the next part of this conversation. "You should go. Rest in your own roo-"

"I'm not leaving."

Rantaro wasn't surprised by that response, but he still sighed deeply. "Kaito, you've barely rested at all since Maki left. All you're doing when you sit here is stressing yourself out."

Kaito was shaking his head all throughout Rantaro's point. "It doesn't matter. I'm not leaving him again. Last time I did that..." Kaito took a shaky breath. "He thinks I don't care. But I do, Rantaro." Kaito bowed his head again, pressing his palm to his forehead.

Rantaro's expression didn't falter. "I know, Kaito."

If Kaito was going to say anything, he didn't get the chance to. He was abruptly interrupted by the loud slam of the swinging door. Shuichi burst into the room with urgency, his eyes quickly scanning Kokichi's body.

"He's...he's okay?" he asked, sounding almost too scared to hear the answer.

"He's...I don't know," Kaito sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. Shuichi's lip wobbled, and his eyes looked suspiciously wet.

"I-I thought he was doing okay-"

"How would you know? You haven't been visiting him," Kaito snapped, no energy behind it. Still, Shuichi flinched as if he had been physically hit. For a moment, Kaito looked apologetic for what he said. "Not that I've been any better. Rantaro's the best of all of us."

"Actually, Miu's been pretty consistent too," Rantaro pointed out, as if that was helpful at all. Shuichi looked back at Kokichi, gritting his teeth as if in pain.

"I-I...I've just-"

"Been avoiding him?" Kaito asked with a sigh, not looking angry this time. "Can't blame you. I've been avoiding him too."

Shuichi wilted. "Next time he wakes up, I'll...I'll talk to him. He deserves to know what's going on."

"While the sentiment is appreciated, Shuichi, I don't know if that's the best idea," Rantaro cut in. "I would wait to see how he's feeling after he wakes up before springing this all on him. Little guy has enough on his plate, he doesn't need to know about..." he trailed off, but Shuichi understood.

Kiibo's strange new personality.

Maki's disappearance a week ago.

The mysterious lack of news from the outside world.

Shuichi's mission to get everyone out.

"What, um..." Shuichi trailed off, looking hesitant to ask. "What caused this?" he motioned to Kokichi's form, unable to find the words to describe whatever fucked-up problem is going on with the boy.

"I did," Kaito grumbled. "I got upset when I found out he was paralyzed-"

"What?!"

"-and I started a fight. It's my fault," Kaito sighed, completely bulldozing over Shuichi's shocked response. "I should have been more tactful than just...storming in after a week of ghosting him."

"Kokichi's-?!" Shuichi shot Kokichi another surprised look. "W-Why didn't he...Why didn't any of the nurses...?!"

"He didn't want anyone to know," Rantaro answered. "I have no clue why the nurses bothered to keep it from us."

"I think they just don't give a shit about us," Kaito mumbled into his palm, resting his chin on his hand.

"I-..." Shuichi was clearly still grappling with the fact that Kokichi was paralyzed. In a stupor, Shuichi approached Kokichi's bed, reaching out as if to touch him. But his fingers only hovered, afraid to close the distance.

"I know," Kaito doubled over, running both hands through his hair, sounding decades older.

"That's why he never left..." Shuichi mused, looking utterly heartbroken. That's when he spotted the grip weights beside Kokichi's bed. He picked one up, a detective's curiosity flashing behind his eyes. "These are...?"

"Miu says he's been working on his mobility in his hands," Rantaro explained. "Apparently he got comfortable enough around her to start doing some exercises during her visits."

"So...he can get better?" Shuichi sounded almost nervous to ask, peeking over the weight at Rantaro. "It's not permanent."

Rantaro shrugged. "I dunno. I don't think anyone really knows. But Miu's already been talking about building him some functioning leg braces to help him walk once we're out of here," he chuckled, remembering that rather passionate conversation. Even Shuichi smiled a bit at that.

"That's a friendship I never expected to see rekindled," he admitted.

The conversation had almost turned casual, conversational, and probably would have continued if it weren't for a sharp intake of Kaito's breath. Wearily, his friends turned to glance at him. Kaito was glaring down at Kokichi's body with gritted teeth, looking physically pained. Shuichi and Rantaro shot each other concerned looks.

"Kaito-" Shuichi tried.

"ARGH!"

He was abruptly cut off by a pained shout. Kaito bowed his head, wrapping his arms around himself in a tight hug, and screamed in frustration.

"K-Kaito!" Shuichi exclaimed in surprise at the sudden outburst. Rantaro simply flinched as Kaito doubled over in the chair, raking both his hands through his hair frantically.

"Why?! Why are you talking as if anyone would be normal after this?!" Kaito exclaimed into his lap, practically vibrating with frustration. Shuichi moved to comfort Kaito, but quickly halted when the former astronaut suddenly sat up in his chair, his dead eyes trained on the wall across from them. He looked...old, and tired. The bags under his eyes were worse than they were before, and his eyelids were puffy from past crying. "I'll never make this up to him, will I?"

"Kaito, I understand you feel responsible-" Rantaro started, but it seemed Kaito was keen on stopping everyone from finishing their sentences.

"Feel responsible?!" Kaito snapped, turning to Rantaro with a fiery glare. "I am responsible, Rantaro! Look at him!" his voice thundered in the small room as he thrust a trembling hand down towards Kokichi's sleeping form. "He's paralyzed because of me! And when I try- try to repent, I just fight with him, and now he's fucking comatose again!"

"He's just under sedatives, Kaito," Rantaro said calmly.

"W-Why do I ruin everything?!" Kaito exclaimed, looking down at his own two hands as if they alone were responsible for all the hardships of Kokichi's life. "H-How can any of you still stand me?!"

"Kaito, don't say that!" Shuichi exclaimed, stepping forward and putting a hand on Kaito's arm. The astronaut immediately tensed under his grip. "You don't ruin everything, you saved me. You saved Maki."

"I killed him," Kaito pointed down at Kokichi, gritting his teeth. "I killed him."

"Unlike most killers, Kaito, you have a chance to make up for it," Rantaro said with crossed arms. Kaito spun to Rantaro.

"What?!"

Rantaro took a deep breath. He had tried comforting Kaito, he tried to convince him this wasn't his fault. But there was no way that Kaito wasn't going to feel guilty for this, so it was time to try something else. Time to try to steer him in a better direction. Right now, their steadfast hero is spiraling, and Rantaro needed to stop it. "You and Kokichi get a second chance at life. Don't waste it driving yourself crazy with guilt," Rantaro explained. "Use it wisely. Make up for your mistakes, starting with Kokichi."

Kaito's glare wavered, and his muscles relaxed slightly. "You mean, make amends?"

Rantaro smiled and nodded. "You're getting it. It may take a while, and it may take some tact, but you can...I don't know, reconcile with Kokichi. I know you two didn't get along much in the killing game, but now you have a chance. I mean, if Miu can do it, why can't you?"

Kaito sighed and glanced back over at Kokichi. "I guess I can try."

Rantaro and Shuichi smiled at each other.

And then, Kokichi's door opened again.

The three boys spun around in surprise, their eyes collectively widening at the sight of Miu, arms crossed, leaning against the door frame.

"I heard about shrimp dick's spaz attack," she said in her hoarse voice, very distastefully. "What the fuck did you do, Momota?"

Kaito bristled slightly. "Hey-"

"No, I can guess," Miu cleared her throat and pushed herself off the door frame, sauntering into the room to the other side of Kokichi's bed. "You got pissy and yelled at the twink. You always caused fights with him in the killing game, why would now be any different?"

"Miu, that's not-" Rantaro tried.

"I don't want to hear from you, K-Pop wanna-be," Miu raised a single finger, giving him an unimpressed look. "Or you, Poo-ichi. I know you've been avoiding him."

Shuichi cowered under her gaze, looking more than a little ashamed.

"You're right," Kaito admitted shamefully, bowing his head. "I picked another fight."

Miu shook her head, looking disgusted. "Of course you did. Y'know, none of you appreciated 'Kich in the game."

"That's not true-!" Shuichi tried to exclaim, but Miu's sharp gaze shot towards him like a bullet.

"You didn't," her vocal chords strained and whined in protest, but she clearly had something to say. "You wrote him off as a villain so you could simp over Kaito. And you," she turned to Kaito. "Fought with him and pushed him away every chance you could. The only one off the hook right now is Rantaro, and that's cause he fuckin' died first."

Rantaro shrugged but didn't argue.

"It was the same with me," Miu fell down into a chair, propping her heels up on Kokichi's bed and crossing her arms like she owned the place. "You all wrote me off as some sex-crazed delinquent."

"You didn't really help your case!" Kaito exclaimed. "You made constant inappropriate jokes that no one appreciated!"

"Kiibo recognized me for who I was," Miu pointed out. "A person, with feelings. And a fucking brilliant mind."

"This again," Kaito rolled his eyes, and Miu's eyes narrowed.

"It's true!" she snapped. "And the only person besides Kiibo who actually respected my talent was the twink!" she motioned down to Kokichi.

"Respected you?! He insulted you every chance he got! And you did the same!" Kaito exclaimed.

"But he fuckin' worked with me," Miu pointed out. "He put aside our differences and tried to work with me to end the fucking game. He recognized my beautiful brain for what it was, he knew I could be useful. But you all wrote me off, and you wrote him off, as just some delinquent fuckers who only cared about themselves."

Kaito's glare wavered, and it seemed he had nothing else to say to that. Rantaro could feel Shuichi shift beside him, and heard him sniffle.

"I-I didn't mean to..." the detective whispered, heartbroken. Miu had no sympathy.

"I'm not going to let you treat him like shit, and then turn around and pretend you care," Miu said, looking directly at Kaito. "He's knocked out again, because of you. He can't tell you to fuck off right now, so I'm going to tell you. Fuck. Off. Momota."

Kaito's expression wavered, and then broke completely, jaw falling open and eyes filling up with a heartbreaking kind of despair. "I- I-..."

"Miu," Rantaro finally spoke up. "Give your voice a rest, will ya?" Miu looked over at him, but said nothing. "I hear you. The way...some people treated Kokichi in the simulation...it wasn't fair. But you have to recognize, the little shit did everything he could to push them away." Shuichi's breath beside him hitched, but he had to keep going. "He was treated like the villain because that's how he wanted them to see him. He said...horrible things. Yes, to push people away, for some 'greater good', but you have to recognize that it must have been hard for these guys to see him as anything else when that's what he was trying to be. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Miu sighed deeply, then looked away sharply. "I guess."

"A lot of people have a lot of things they have to work on," Rantaro admitted. "We're all...so fucked up right now. But can't you understand that Kaito is trying to make things right? That Shuichi is trying to help us all?"

Miu glared at the two boys in question. "Fine."

"And can't you two accept that your relationships with Kokichi will take more work than a single conversation to fix?"

Kaito grumbled and nodded. Shuichi sniffed, quickly swiping his sleeve against his eyes before nodding as well.

"Have you eaten, Kaito?" Rantaro decided to change the subject. Kaito hesitated, then shook his head.

"But I'm not leaving-"

"I know, I know," Rantaro chuckled. "Miu? When's the last time you ate?"

Miu gave a half-hearted shrug.

"Shuichi and I will go get some food for you two, okay? You keep watching over our boy."

Kaito glanced over his shoulder at Kokichi. "Y-Yeah...yeah. Okay." Miu simply nodded.

Rantaro put a hand on Shuichi's shoulder and steered him out of Kokichi's room. The hospital was quiet now, as it was nearing nighttime. Rantaro started guiding Shuichi in the direction of the cafeteria.

"You think he'll be okay?" Shuichi asked after a moment of silence. Rantaro sighed.

"I don't know," was his honest answer. "It's been difficult for everyone. All the murderers who woke up from the simulation were wracked with guilt for what they did, but the difference is, they got to talk it out with their victims. Like Kaede. I know she still regrets what happened between us, but we got to discuss it, and we're on the path of moving past it. It's different for Kaito. His victim didn't wake up, not for a long time. Without being able to talk to Kokichi..." Rantaro shook his head. "His guilt has just been destroying him."

"Ran- ahem, Rantaro, Shuichi!" a hoarse voice exclaimed. The two boys spun around and saw Kaede rushing towards them, clearing her throat.

"Don't raise your voice, Kaede, you know better," Rantaro scolded, while Shuichi just smiled sadly. Kaede stopped in front of them, taking Shuichi's hand earnestly. The boy turned red, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Kokichi?" she asked in a raspy voice.

"Still sedated," Rantaro explained.

Shuichi's eyes already started to water again, and he bowed his head in shame, hiding from Kaede behind his long bangs. Kaede clicked her tongue, squeezing his hand and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, everyone's still..." Rantaro trailed off. "On edge."

Shuichi was already shaking his head. "I should have visited. I should have said something to him. He thinks that no one cares-"

"We're going to change that-" Rantaro tried.

"-I-I thought he was doing okay, I thought I had more time before I needed to go visit!"

"Shuichi, it's okay, we're here for him now-" Rantaro tried again.

"Stop, it's not okay!" Shuichi threw his hands over his ears, tears freely flowing down his cheeks now. Kaede, unable to provide the comforting words she once used to, threw her arms around Shuichi. The detective gasped and buried his face into her shoulder. With a sad look, Rantaro stepped forward and wrapped his arms around them both.

"Kokichi will be okay," he whispered. "We all will be okay."

Chapter Text

The room was entirely silver, eerily like the hydraulic press that killed him. Kokichi stood alone, looking around in confusion.

"Um?" he said, his voice echoing and bouncing off of the metal walls. "Is this Hell? 'Cause if it is, I got some major complaints. Is Satan around?! I need to tell him this is boring!"

His voice echoing was the only response he got. He hummed to himself, spinning around and catching his reflection in the wall. He looked...different. Deflated. Sad.

He approached the reflection hesitantly, cocking a curious eyebrow. "Is that seriously how I look?" he scoffed. "Depressing."

"A little bit, yeah," his reflection responded.

Kokichi yelped in shock, nearly scrambling away and falling to the floor, but catching himself at the last second. His reflection did not do the same. Instead, he smiled, a sad, jaded smile.

"Yeah, I was expecting that."

Kokichi composed himself, snickering at his reflection. "Fell for that, did ya? Jokes on you, I always talk to my reflections."

"Sure you do," his reflection deadpanned, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"So, what is this?" Kokichi asked, motioning around. "Some sort of self-reflective dream before I die?"

"You're not dying," his reflection sighed. "Unfortunately."

"Ouch," Kokichi tried his best to steel his expression. "That's rude, Depressed Kokichi. Words hurt."

"Funny, that coming from you," Depressed Kokichi rolled his eyes. "You think you're so tough? That being in Danganronpa didn't affect you? Then why are you still in that hospital?"

Kokichi's expression twitched in irritation. "You know why."

"I have some theories," Depressed Kokichi admitted with a shrug. "But do you know why?"

Kokichi sighed deeply, slowly crossing his arms over his chest. "I've been a bit busy, if you haven't noticed. I haven't had the chance to figure things out-"

"Bullshit," Depressed Kokichi chuckled, not sounding the least bit humored. "Are you seriously trying to lie to your own, self-created image of your mind right now?"

Kokichi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought. "Yeah. Yeah, I can't stop thinking about it."

"Go on," Depressed Kokichi nodded.

"Why can't we leave?" Kokichi asked, finally. "Why haven't I been able to leave my room? Why hasn't anyone been able to leave? Aren't the survivors in fine condition to leave? And Kaede certainly seems okay. And Hoshi, and even Miu. Why are we still here?"

Depressed Kokichi didn't respond this time. Kokichi crossed his arms again.

It's just another prison. Another prison full of people who take joy in watching you suffer.

"That's right," Depressed Kokichi said, for some reason responding to his thoughts instead of what he says out loud. "It's just another prison. So, what are you going to do about it?"

Kokichi flinched awake. For a moment, he thought he felt the heavy weight of the hydraulic press on his chest, but as soon as his eyes flew open, the pain was an afterthought. Like a phantom limb. He felt breathless, and was quick to try and remedy that, taking deep, deliberate breaths.

The bright light of his hospital room pierced his vision, and he glared up at the ceiling like it personally offended him. As his labored breath started to even out, the sense of frustration washed over him.

"Kaito..." he hissed quietly, through bared teeth.

"He went to his own room."

Kokichi startled at the sound a voice. He sharply turned his head on his pillow, his eyes widening at the sight of Shuichi, sitting beside his bed in the chair where Miu, Rantaro, and many others sat before him. Kokichi, still bleary, blinked once in absolute shock.

Then, he plastered on a sneer. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the illusive detective. You've kept me waiting for a long time, Shumai."

Shuichi didn't look at Kokichi, but instead kept his eyes trained on the far wall. However, his eyes did pinch subtly. The detective shifted slightly in the chair, raising his hand and revealing a remote. He pressed a button, pointing it at the far wall. Kokichi's eyes followed the movement, and saw that he had pressed 'pause' on another rerun of season fifty three.

"I know. I'm sorry about that Kokichi," Shuichi said, not disingenuously. Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed at the honesty in his voice, but he worked to keep the evil sneer on his face. "Kaito was here all night, you know. He only just left a while ago. He needed rest. We had to practically drag him away."

"Oh, so he's doing that again?" Kokichi rolled his eyes.

"Why do you keep watching the killing game, Kokichi?" Shuichi asked. Kokichi's head cocked playfully against his pillow.

"Oh, is this an interrogation?" he sang. "I watch it because it's entertaining, silly!"

Finally, Shuichi glanced over at Kokichi, meeting his gaze with his own. He looked tired. "You know, your evil masks were a lot scarier in the simulation."

Kokichi wiped the sneer off his face, replacing that mask with one of complete emotionless neutrality. "You don't say?"

"Kokichi," Shuichi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was fighting away a migraine. "We need to talk."

"Do we?" Kokichi grunted, looking back up at the ceiling. "You weren't too eager to talk to me before. What changed, beloved?"

"I was an asshole, Kokichi."

Kokichi's eyes widened and shot towards Shuichi. He almost felt his lips twitch traitorously into a giddy smile. "Language, Shumai!"

"I'm serious," Shuichi's glare showed that he was. "I tell myself that I've been too busy trying to help everyone to visit you, but I know the truth. I've been avoiding you."

Kokichi blinked, then smiled, cocking his head. "Did someone finally learn how to tell the truth after all this time?"

Shuichi shook his head. "Say all the mean things you want, Kokichi, I'm not avoiding you anymore. It's time we talk-"

"Protagonist to antagonist?" Kokichi finished with a toothy smile. "I'd love to, but I'm afraid I have places to be, minions to rule."

"You're not a Supreme Leader," Shuichi said. "And I'm not a detective. We're just...two kids right now, okay?"

"Yeah, just bursting with youthful energy over here," Kokichi deadpanned, turning back to the ceiling. "Are you going to say anything interesting, or continue prattling your platitudes like you're...I dunno, Momota?"

Shuichi frowned. "Kokichi, please answer me honestly."

"You do know who you're talking to, right?"

"Why are you watching the fifty third season over and over? Rantaro and Miu say you've been doing it every day." When Kokichi merely shrugged as an answer, Shuichi sighed. "Are you...planning something?"

"I thought I wasn't the plotting villain anymore, Shumai," Kokichi widened his eyes innocently. "I thought we were 'just two kids'. If that were true, why would you suspect me of planning anything?"

"That's not-"

"That's so mean, Shuichi," Kokichi's eyes started to water dramatically, his bottom lip wobbling. "You ignore me for a week, and then you come in and bully me! You're just as bad at Astro-Boy!"

"Kaito feels really bad about that, you understand?" Shuichi emphasized, before shaking his head. "And that's not what we're talking about, here!"

"Nope, we're talking about why I watch Danganronpa so much," with a tremendous amount of effort, Kokichi put a playful finger to his lips. "It's a tv show, Shuichi, it's meant to be watched!"

"Yeah, you figured that out before you died," Shuichi said. Kokichi's mask shut off, and his face fell to neutral. "There a reason you decided to hide all that instead of working with me?"

Kokichi blinked, keeping his face carefully neutral. Then, he cocked his head, one finger coming up to his lips. The smile was only half-energy now. "I think we both know you wouldn't have worked with me, even if I asked. And I did ask, you just weren't a good enough detective to figure it out."

"So you turn to Kaito?" Shuichi asked. "He was your next choice?"

Kokichi smirked. This line of questioning was starting to get really boring. "These aren't the questions you really want to ask, are they, Shumai?"

Shuichi sighed, breaking eye contact and sharply turning away. He glared at the floor as if in pain, and it almost made Kokichi chuckle. Shuichi was never crushed by a press, he couldn't know true pain.

"Can you..." Shuichi trailed off, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Will you ever forgive me, Kokichi?"

"Forgive you for what?" Kokichi's response was immediate. "Ghosting me for a week? Rejecting me in the game? Completely ruining my plan to end the killing game for good?"

Shuichi flinched at that last one. "A-All of them..."

Kokichi put a finger to his chin, as if in thought. "Hmm..." he hummed theatrically. "I'll think about it!"

Shuichi looked surprised by the response, turning back to Kokichi with wide eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but Kokichi was faster than that.

"But I don't do things for free, Shumai," Kokichi said pointedly. "It's going to take a lot more than one little visit to make it up to lil' ol' me."

Shuichi's expression sobered. "I know. And I'll do what it takes."

Hm. That was...unexpected. Kokichi kept his mask of lazy confidence on. "Wow, Shuichi really sounds like a protagonist now! You fill your role so well."

"That's funny," Shuichi said, with no hint of humor in his voice. "Because you don't fit yours. Not at all."

Kokichi felt the familiar pang of irritation tug at his eyebrow. He refused to let this stupid, naive, fake detective get the best of him. He's been off doing God-Knows-What for days, and he hadn't even bothered to show up to Kokichi's door. Whatever Shuichi thought he was doing to him, it wasn't going to work.

Carefully, like a machine resetting itself, Kokichi's lazy smirk fell into a scowl. A deep, dark scowl, one fuming with honesty. Kokichi was angry, and this time he was going to allow himself to show it.

"Oh, really?" he growled venomously. Shuichi's eyes widened, in a classic 'I fucked up' expression. "I don't fill my role, huh? Because the big, bad villain is stuck paralyzed in bed? Because his grand, evil plan to win the game failed terribly? Because he's alive, when he should be dead?"

"No, Kokichi, I-!" Shuichi exclaimed.

"Save it, Protag," Kokichi scoffed, his furious scowl melting away to annoyed dismissal. From the pain in Shuichi's eyes, he could tell that hurt him.

Good.

"Kokichi, that's not what I meant," Shuichi said earnestly. "A-And...I think you know that."

"No no, detective," Kokichi smirked darkly. "I know I'm supposed to be dead."

"You're not!" Shuichi jolted to his feet from the chair, causing it to clatter loudly on the ground. Kokichi's eyes flashed back to Shuichi, startled. "You're alive, Kokichi, and that's not a mistake."

Kokichi blinked at Shuichi, careful not to betray just how surprised he was. "Nice words," he commented. "But no evidence, Mr. Detective."

"Then I'll find you some," Shuichi said without missing a beat. Kokichi shot him a bewildered look, too exhausted to hide his confusion.

"What?"

"I'll find you evidence," Shuichi nodded along to his own plan. "It's what I'm good at, right? What I'm written for?"

Kokichi shook his head, not understanding in the slightest. "I'm sorry, but evidence? Evidence that me being alive isn't a mistake? Are you stupid?"

"Maybe," Shuichi smiled nervously. "But if I have to prove it to you, then that's what I'm going to do."

Kokichi blinked, shocked. Then, he snickered. "Okay, Mr. Detective. Present Your Argument," he drawled with a wave of his hand.

Shuichi smiled and sat up straight. "Ryoma."

Kokichi raised an eyebrow. "Ryoma?"

Shuichi nodded as if it made perfect sense. "Mhm. Ryoma. He talks to the whole class, asking about different card games to bring to you. He really looks forward to your visits."

Well, Kokichi hadn't known that. And sure, maybe having the Token Depressed Guy of the group actually show some excitement for hanging out with him, the Token Annoying Brat Everyone Hates, felt kind of nice. But he sure as hell wasn't going to let Shuichi see that. One guy actually enjoying his company is hardly-

"Oh, and Kirumi!" Shuichi exclaimed, interrupting that train of thought. "Believe it or not, she likes her visits, too. She did mention this one time she was particularly proud of you and Miu-"

Kokichi scoffed. "That's just classic Mom behavior."

"Speaking of Miu, you have to have realized how helpful you've been for her," Shuichi added. "Miu could really use a friend, and she's been more lively since you woke up. Talking about how she's going to make mechanical braces for your legs once we get out of here."

Kokichi's eyes widened. "She said that?" he was unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

"According to Rantaro," Shuichi chuckled. "Who, by the way, is my next piece of evidence."

"People aren't evidence-"

"Witness accounts," Shuichi corrected. "Even before you were awake, Rantaro visited your room regularly. He said it was hard watching you during the killing game. It hurt him to see you spiral into...whatever the killing game turned you into. He really liked hanging out with you, in the beginning. You remember that, don't you?"

Kokichi did.

"And then there's all the others," Shuichi added. "Kaede, Gonta, and all of them. Kaede has her own reservations for coming in here, sure, and Gonta...well, he's been eager to see you ever since you woke up," he pointed out. "But he's been respecting your boundaries. Kokichi, he's so excited for the day you'll talk to him. I really hope that comes soon."

Kokichi scowled. "That soft-hearted idiot hardly counts as an example. He likes anything with a pulse. He's friends with bugs, for crying out loud."

"Not anymore," Shuichi said. "A lot of us grew out of our weird niche habits after waking up. He's not really bug-crazy anymore. But he is still nice. And he still wants to be friends with you, I think."

Kokichi grit his teeth. "Well I don't want to be friends with him." But that's a lie.

Shuichi looked sad, but Kokichi refused to back down. "I hope someday you'll change your mind," the former detective sighed. "So, with all these people who were eagerly waiting your return, and are excited to see you recover, do you really think you should be dead?"

Kokichi turned away, trying to maintain the facade that he didn't care. "You can't argue with facts, Detective," he pointed out. His voice didn't come out stoic and deadpan, the way he wanted it to. It came out quiet, reserved. Sad. "I died in the hangar that day. So I shouldn't be alive now."

Shuichi sighed, looking around the hospital room for an answer. Kokichi almost thought he wasn't going to say anything at all. "But you are."

Kokichi glanced over at him.

"You are alive," Shuichi shrugged. "And that, Kokichi, is fact. You can't argue with facts."

With his own words thrown back in his face, Kokichi scowled at the ceiling. Shuichi waited patiently for him to say something, but he just didn't know how to respond. He didn't want to respond.

So, instead, he said "Help me sit up."

Shuichi looked surprised for a second, before understanding and leaning forward in the chair. He wrapped his arms around Kokichi's torso and slowly helped him sit up. Kokichi placed on hand on Shuichi's forearm as the detective leaned him against the headrest.

"Better?" Shuichi asked, pulling away. Kokichi nodded.

"Yeah. Now I can look at you face-to-face and tell you that you're naive," he said, smirking. Shuichi smiled back.

"Yeah, yeah. I've heard that before."

"But I guess you're not entirely stupid," Kokichi rolled his eyes before turning and motioning towards the paused television screen. "You managed to figure it all out, after all."

"Only thanks to the evidence you left," Shuichi admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Kokichi couldn't help but smirk.

"Ah, Shumai's praise. So this is what it feels like. It's nice, you should do it more often," Kokichi waggled his finger at him.

Startling the both of them, Kokichi's door creaked and started to open.

"Shuichi, I'm back," Kaito's voice came from the slowly-opening door. It sounded...so tired. Strained, as if Kaito had been crying.

Which, of course, made no sense. Kaito Momota wouldn't cry.

"I'm rested now, so you can't yell at me-" Kaito was in the middle of saying as the door opened fully. He made direct eye contact with Kokichi, and froze in his tracks.

Kaito looked...

"You look like shit," Kokichi said before he could stop himself.

Kaito blinked at Kokichi, eyes rimmed red, bags hanging heavily underneath. His hair was down, greasy and messed up, like he had been lying awkwardly. His hand slipped off the doorknob and fell limp at his side, jaw hanging open.

"You're awake."

"You going to be that surprised every time that happens?" Kokichi questioned. Kaito blinked, then looked over at Shuichi.

"W-Why didn't you tell me?!"

"It just happened-"

"You promised me you would tell me if he-"

"You needed rest, Kaito, you had barely left-!"

"Both of you, stop," Kokichi groaned. "If you're going to bicker like an old married couple, can you do it in some other crippled boy's room?"

Kaito's jaw opened and closed mechanically, and Kokichi would have been wildly amused by Kaito's stupidity if he wasn't completely exhausted by now.

"I didn't ask for either of you to come visit. I had a nice, peaceful week before you two came in and ruined it, so..." Kokichi motioned to the open door. "See ya."

Kaito, being the stupid moron that he was, started walking towards Kokichi, not away from him.

"You- I-" Kokichi scoffed, trying to lean away. "Bad minion! I told you to go away, not come closer!"

Kaito made it beside Kokichi's bed at this point, standing above him with an unreadable expression. Kokichi's heart started to pound in his chest, wondering if Kaito was going to come at him with his fists instead of his words, this time around.

"P-Picking a fight with a paralyzed orphan?" Kokichi chuckled nervously, peering up at Kaito through his hair. "That isn't very heroic of you, Momota. Now, go away and-"

Kaito bent forward, and Kokichi flinched violently, expecting a fist to the face.

Kaito's arms wrapped around Kokichi in an encompassing...hug.

A hug.

Kokichi froze, wishing he could shove Kaito away. He was sure he didn't have the strength to, even if he tried. He held his breath as Kaito tucked his head into Kokichi's shoulder, pulling him as close as possible. Kaito was big, much bigger than Kokichi. His entire body wrapped around Kokichi's like a blanket.

"Uh, Kaito?" Kokichi asked, voice strained as he lifted his chin and kept himself rigid against the hug. "What is this?"

"It's a hug," Kaito stated, as if it were that simple.

"Yeah, no I got that part," Kokichi put one hand on Kaito's back, giving him a little shove. It was pretty weak, and Kokichi decided to blame his atrophied muscles rather than any subconscious desire to be... hugged by Kaito Momota. "I think you're a bit confused. You're hugging Kokichi right now, not Shumai. You missed."

Kaito's shoulders shook a little as he chuckled. It did not sound very funny. "Just let it happen, man."

"Um, no?" Kokichi scoffed. "Let me go."

"I'm not letting you push me away again," he whispered, in a voice too quiet to be coming from the Ultimate Astronaut. "It's not pity. It's not guilt. It's not a 'get another sidekick' thing, or a 'try to be a hero' thing, I don't do that shit anymore. I just want to be here for you."

"N-No," Kokichi tried. "Stop."

"The killing game is over, Kokichi," Kaito said, sounding a bit choked up. Shit, if Kaito started crying, Kokichi wasn't sure what he would do... "You don't need to push people away to feel safe anymore. I'm here."

"You're an idiot," Kokichi spoke up, his voice betraying him, coming out choked.

Kaito shook his head against Kokichi's neck. "Maybe, but I'm an idiot who's not letting you do this again. I'm not going to let you push us all away until you're alone. We work together from now on, okay?"

Kokichi inhaled sharply. Kaito heard that, and only tightened his hold on Kokichi. His eyes- damn traitors that they were- started to well up with tears, and his breath hitched in his throat. Kaito's hand started to rub comforting patterns up and down Kokichi's back, and that's what did him in.

He was just tired.

A choked sob escaped from his lips before he could stop it, and he buried his face in Kaito's shoulder before Shuichi could see. He immediately felt the fabric of Kaito's hospital gown soak with tears, but there wasn't much he could do about that. Kaito shifted slightly so that he was sitting on the bed, still hugging Kokichi tightly to his chest. One of Kokichi's weak, trembling hands reached up to grab at his hospital gown.

"D-Don't-" Kokichi tried, voice tight.

Kaito simply shook his head, and that was enough to shut him up. Kokichi sobbed again, burying his face deeper into Kaito's shoulder.

This couldn't be permanent. Kokichi knew that. There was only so long he could cling to the former Ultimate Astronaut and cry like a child. There was only so long he could allow himself to crack and break under the weight of the false memories forced into him. Eventually, he would have to let go, and slip on the proud mask he loved to wear. Eventually, he would have to stop leaning on Kaito and hold himself up.

But for today, for right now, Kokichi supposed it was alright to just accept the hug that was being offered to him.

Chapter Text

Kaito leaned back precariously in his chair, feet propped up on Kokichi's bed, crossed at the ankles. Both of them were eating green jello, the fifty-third season on the tv in the background. Mouth full of jello, Kaito pointed his plastic spoon at the screen.

"So, seriously, wha's with the weir' o'session?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Kokichi scolded.

Kaito swallowed the jello and put the plastic spoon back into the now empty cup. "Seriously, everyone's been talking about it. Why do you keep watching it? You're planning something, aren't you?"

Kokichi pouted, tears welling up in his suspiciously-puffy eyes. "Everyone's so mean, assuming I'm up to something!"

Yeah, the punk has to be planning something, Kaito mused. But what could he possibly do? I bet the only reason he hasn't escaped already is because he's paralyzed.

The casual conversation had taken a while to build up to. Surprising the both of them, Kokichi had clung to Kaito and cried for, like, an hour. Shuichi, mercifully, left them alone. Kaito was sure that it was as much for his own sake as it was Kokichi's. Kaito held him the whole time, because it seemed like the kid had a lot of tension to let out. Other than his usual, over-dramatic waterworks, Kaito had never actually seen Kokichi cry, truly cry, before. Well, there had only been one time Kaito suspected the tears were real, and that was...in the hangar. Kaito could only imagine how many days of frustration and pain had pent up in that tiny, broken body. Eventually, Kokichi's sobs had turned into watery hiccups, and his grip on him loosened slightly. Kaito took the hint and leaned back, looking down at him. Kokichi had frantically scrubbed at his eyes, as if that would hide an hour's worth of tears. After a shaky inhale, Kokichi 'ordered' Kaito to get them both some jello.

Kaito murdered the kid and rendered him paralyzed. Getting him jello was the least he could do.

And now, the two were just talking as if there wasn't a week's worth of tension and a killing game's worth of animosity between them. Kaito took what Rantaro said to heart. It's going to take more than one conversation- or cry session- to really repair whatever he had going with Kokichi. He had to be...more patient than he was used to.

Like Miu! Miu told him that she had just started hanging out with him, not even talking about anything in particular. Eventually, they hung out so much, that they had the conversation! Kaito just had to be more patient, like Miu.

Wow. Never though he would think something like that.

"What are you spacing out for, Space Cadet?" Kokichi asked, pulling Kaito's focus back.

"Nothing, nothing," Kaito put his empty jello cup on Kokichi's bedside table. "Sorry about that. But you never did answer my question."

"I don't have to tell you anything!" Kokichi exclaimed haughtily. "I am your leader!"

"You're really...not," Kaito smiled patiently.

Kokichi gasped over-dramatically, pretending to be oh-so-offended. "Gasp! Mutiny?!"

Kaito chuckled, nudging Kokichi's leg with his propped-up foot. "Twerp."

"Don't call people names, Momo, it's not nice," Kokichi scolded with a wag of his finger. Kaito groaned, but recognized what Kokichi was trying to do. Change the subject.

"So, you're seriously not going to tell me why you watch this shit?" Kaito asked, nodding towards the tv.

"Mm-mm!" Kokichi shook his head, lips pressed tightly in a smile. Kaito rolled his eyes.

"You're intolerable."

"You're the one that won't leave me alone," Kokichi shrugged. "Just wait until Assassin Girl finds out you've been spending all your free time with me instead of her today," he giggled. "You're going to get in trouble, Kaito."

Kaito's expression sobered. "Uh, yeah...that's not going to happen..."

Immediately catching on to Kaito's serious tone, Kokichi's smile faded, and his eyebrows furrowed. "What happened?" he asked, deadly serious, and it almost surprised Kaito. He blinked, staring down at Kokichi, before realizing-

"Shit, no, she's not dead," he amended. "Sorry, should have lead with that."

"Hm," Kokichi hummed like he didn't care, but the furrow in his eyebrow smoothed over. "So then what's with the long face?"

"Well, um..." Kaito shifted awkwardly in his chair. "It's a lot to explain but she's...gone. She left the hospital."

"They let Murder Girl go?" Kokichi raised an eyebrow, looking both surprised and skeptical. Kaito rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"They didn't...let her go, per-se..."

"Maki...escaped?" Kokichi's eyes widened slightly, and he looked surprised. Kaito found that Kokichi in real life was easier to read than the Kokichi in the simulation. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. He had always wanted to understand Kokichi, what was going on under that mask, but now that he can see it...he feels like he's violating his privacy. Kokichi without the villain mask looked naked.

"We're assuming so," Kaito shrugged. "But we haven't heard a single word from her since."

"Are you expecting to hear from her?" Kokichi asked.

"We're supposed to. She said she would contact us."

"Hm," Kokichi's gaze trailed off to the side, and Kaito could tell the kid was slipping into his own mind. He was clearly deep in thought, calculating something, but Kaito had a feeling that he wasn't going to tell him any time soon.

"Hey. Hey," Kaito nudged Kokichi with his foot again, but the kid was lost in thought, one finger coming up to his lips thoughtfully.

"Interesting."

"Kokichi. Stop plotting."

Kokichi snapped out of whatever place his brain went to with a smile. "Plotting? Lil' ol' me?"

Kaito rolled his eyes. "You want to tell me what about Maki Roll's disappearance made you think so hard?"

"No thanks!" was Kokichi's immediate answer, chipper as ever. Kaito sighed.

"Of course."

"Don't you worry, Kaito," Kokichi drawled. "There's no scheming here. All I plan to do from here on out is relax and heal!"

He's full of shit.

"I know you're trying to rope me into this ridiculous sidekick harem you've formed, but it's not happening," Kokichi continued. "You can keep your heroic escape plans to yourself, Luminary."

"Hey, knock that off. I told you," Kaito crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly avoiding eye contact with Kokichi. "I don't think that kind of shit anymore. It's stupid, and egotistical, and I refuse to play into that character anymore. I don't have any sidekicks, okay?"

Kokichi looked thoughtful for a moment, an amused smile tugging slightly at his lips. After a bit of silence, Kokichi suddenly exclaimed, "Well okay then!"

Kaito started, looking up at him. "Okay?"

"It's a good thing you don't do that sidekick stuff anymore," Kokichi said. "Because that means you can be my minion!"

"What?!"

Kokichi was already nodding to himself. "Yes, yes, this will do nicely. Kaito is just the kind of empty-brained moron that would make a great mindless obedient minion."

"Minion?!" Kaito scoffed, smiling despite himself. Maybe, a week ago, or even longer, he would have been offended by the notion. But now...he wasn't sure why, but he felt excited? Like this was Kokichi's way of finally accepting him as...well, maybe not a friend, yet, but someone that could become one?

"And as my new minion, I have another mission for you. I need you to get something for me," Kokichi pointed at Kaito with the plastic spoon.

Kaito smiled, patiently accepting his new role. "Sure. You need more jello?"

"No!" Kokichi slammed his empty jello cup down. "I need you to get me a wheelchair!"

Kaito's first thought was to ask Kirumi, to which he then followed up by asking if it was offensive of him to go to her first. After she assured him no, it wasn't offensive, it made perfect sense, she explained that she was given a wheelchair early into her recovery.

As Kaito followed Kirumi back to her room, he realized that he had actually never been to her room before. He wondered what it would look like-

Unsurprisingly tidy.

Kirumi lead him inside, nudging the door open with her crutch with expert practice. "When I first woke up, I had no mobility in my legs," she explained as they walked in. "I had to use this for a couple of days. Ah, here," she checked the small closet in her room, pulling out the wheelchair. "We kept it nearby in case I ever got tired of walking."

"Doesn't that mean you still might need it?" Kaito asked. "I don't want to take something away from you if you still-"

"Kaito, I insist," Kirumi pushed the wheelchair towards him with one hand. "It gets no more use out of me, I assure you. It would be much more useful for someone like Kokichi. Though why the nurses hadn't provided him with one yet, I'll never understand."

Kaito accepted the wheelchair, taking the handles with both hands. "Thanks, Kirumi, I owe you one."

"You owe me nothing," Kirumi said. "I'm no longer a maid, but I am happy to help Kokichi out. If only he had requested one sooner. If he had just told me-"

"Don't beat yourself up about it," Kaito said. "He hid it from all of us. You were good enough to still keep him company. I wasn't as good as you," Kaito rubbed the back of his neck shamefully.

"But you are here for him now," Kirumi pointed out. "And from here on out. He should appreciate you for that."

Kaito thought about Kokichi pointing at him with a stained-green plastic spoon, jello in the corner of his lips, loudly declaring that he is his new minion. The image brought a smile to his face.

"Y'know, I think he does."

Kokichi reacted like a little kid on Christmas once Kaito wheeled in the empty wheelchair. To the best of his ability, he clapped his hands together eagerly. "Yay! You did it! Good minion!"

"Yeah, yeah," Kaito mumbled with fake-exasperation, wheeling the chair up to the side of the hospital bed. "Let's get you out of this stuffy room, huh?"

"Fresh air!" Kokichi put both hands into the air, reaching up like a toddler wishing to be picked up. Kaito rolled his eyes and bent down, wrapping his arms around Kokichi's waist. He felt the boy wrap his arms around his neck as tightly as he could.

"As fresh air you could get, in the hospital hallway with no windows," Kaito amended, picking up Kokichi with a grunt. Carefully, he turned and settled Kokichi's limp body into the wheelchair. Kokichi immediately felt around the arm rests of the chair, giving it a once over. He seemed satisfied.

"I haven't been off that bed in a week. Anything is an improvement."

Finally, Kaito felt like Kokichi wasn't lying. "Where to?" he asked, stepping behind the wheelchair and grabbing the handles with both hands. Kokichi shrugged.

"Out."

Fair enough. Kaito wheeled Kokichi out of his room, watching in surprise as Kokichi looked around the hospital with awe and excitement. Well, what looked like awe and excitement. Upon further reflection, Kaito could see Kokichi's eyes roaming over every detail of the hospital with an analytical gaze. Something was definitely going on.

"Woah, hey!" a voice exclaimed, pulling Kokichi out of his reverie. Both boys turned and saw Rantaro, hands planted on his hips, a surprised smile tugging at his lips. "Look who it is."

"Rantaro!" Kokichi exclaimed with so much excitement, Kaito could only assume it was a fake. A front Kokichi was putting on, for some reason. "My minion got me a wheelchair!"

At 'minion', Rantaro shot Kaito a surprised yet amused expression. "I can see that. Good to see you getting out."

"Yep yep! Kokichi is free, now it's time to make it everybody's problem," Kokichi smirked, putting a mischevious finger to his lips.

"Is that so?" Rantaro chuckled.

"You gonna be a pest to everybody?" Kaito asked.

"Only to the meanies who never came to visit me," Kokichi said, a glint in his eye that Kaito didn't quite understand.

"I see," frustratingly, Rantaro did seem to understand. "So, I take it you have no business with me, then?"

"Yep!" Kokichi smiled cheekily. "In fact, you're doing nothing but being in our way! Begone, flea!"

"Flea?" Rantaro looked somewhat amused. "Okay, if you say so. But hey, Kokichi?"

"Hm?" Kokichi's cheeky expression froze.

"I'm glad to see that you're taking what I said to heart."

Kokichi's grin started to slip, an unmistakable furrow of frustration in his brow. "I said begone, flea."

Rantaro smiled, but there was no joy in it. "Okay. Yeah."

There was a tension between the two that hadn't been there before, Kaito noticed. He had wondered what had happened between them in the past week. Rantaro looked up at make eye contact with Kaito, giving him a small, close-lipped smile and a shrug, stepping out of the way.

"Onward, minion!" Kokichi declared. Kaito shot Rantaro an apologetic look, before pushing the wheelchair away. He could feel Rantaro's gaze on them as they walked away.

"What was all that about?" Kaito asked, glancing down at Kokichi. All he could see was his shoulders, and the top of his head. He had no idea what expression he was making.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it. Oh, oh," Kokichi pointed, causing Kaito to stop in his tracks. "That way."

Kaito followed where Kokichi was pointing, and his eyebrows furrowed in surprise. "Really?...Okay." Unsure exactly why, Kaito turned the wheelchair and started steering Kokichi in the direction of Tenko and Himiko.

"Hi, hi!" Kokichi cheered in a singsong voice, startling the two girls. Tenko looked positively offended by the interruption, and Himiko only stared at Kokichi in barely-masked horror. "What are my two favorite girls talking about?"

"Kokichi?!" Tenko exclaimed. "You're...out?"

"Yep. Finally set free," Kokichi cheekily tilted his head. "And I have a minion to wheel me around like a king."

"K-Kokichi..." Himiko mumbled, curling in on herself slightly. Kokichi turned his overeager sneer towards her.

"What's wrong, Himiko? No hard feelings about that tricky fifth trial, is there?"

Himiko's eyes flashed nervously over to Kaito, and she shook her head. Tenko adjusted herself so her shoulder was slightly in front of Himiko, protectively.

"Why are you...acting weird?" she mumbled nervously. Kokichi's grin merely grew, and Kaito felt the chill of something sinister.

"What do you mean, acting weird? I've been so lonely, I just wanted to chat."

"Sure..." Himiko clearly didn't believe him.

"Shuchi finally came to visit me," Kokichi added conversationally. "So that's one out of three winners. What have you been up to? Bonding with Tenko?"

"Yeah, she has," Tenko bristled protectively, but Kokichi didn't even spare her a glance.

"I heard Shuichi has been going to therapy, to try to get out of this dump," he said, leaning a cheek casually against his fist. "What about you, Himiko? Tryin' to get out of here?"

"Not without Tenko and the others," Himiko grumbled, still refusing to look Kokichi in the eye. "But I go to therapy, too..."

"Really?" Kokichi gasped, sounding like he already knew that. Kaito's eyebrows furrowed. He had no idea where Kokichi was going with this. "And how is that going?"

"Why do you want to know?" Tenko asked defensively, planting her fists on her hips and looking down at Kokichi with suspicion.

"I've been stuck in a hospital bed for a week," Kokichi pointed out. "I'm stir-crazy, I just want to know what's going on! Come on, don't you trust me?" he asked, wide-eyed. Tenko looked unimpressed.

"No."

"Tenko, it's okay," Himiko gave her sleeve a little tug, finally stepping out from behind her. "H-He ended up being an okay guy, right?"

"Pretty sure jury's still out on that one," Tenko's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Kokichi smiled unflinchingly.

"Tenko," Kaito sighed, cocking his head and giving her a slightly begging look.

"If Shuichi and I want to leave the hospital, we have to pass a psychology test, first," Himiko explained, fiddling with her hospital gown. "We haven't passed it yet. He says we're...'traumatized'?"

"He?" Kokichi's eyes sparkle, and it nearly startles Kaito. "Who's 'he'?"

Himiko's eyes went wide at that, as if she didn't want to answer. She looked up at Tenko, then back at the floor, shuffling her feet nervously. "He's...really creepy..."

"Is there a doctor bullying you?" Kokichi pouted, but there was a furrow to his brow. Kaito wasn't sure if he should read it as concern, or frustration. Maybe both.

"Not a doctor, a computer program..." Himiko mumbled. "It's...well, it's Kiibo."

Kokichi's expression froze, like a computer glitching. Then, the furrow in his brow deepened, just slightly. His lips twitched upwards. "Kiibo?"

Himiko nodded. "It's not really Kiibo, I think. It's a computer program, with his face. He acts...really different."

Kokichi's smile turned sinister. "Well, Himiko, this has been a gas, but I think it's time for Momo and I to head out."

"Head out?" Kaito questioned.

"A gas?" Himiko murmured in unison.

"Ladies," Kokichi gave them a civil nod and an eerie smile, before tapping on one of Kaito's hands. He took that as a cue to start moving. He pushed the wheelchair forward, giving Tenko and Himiko an awkward wave, as yet another conversation ended strangely.

"What is going on with you?"

"So, a cheap Kiiboy knockoff is playing therapist," Kokichi mumbled rather than answering, one finger pressing on his lip thoughtfully.

"What on Earth are you even doing right now?" Kaito asked with a deep sigh of exasperation. "Because I am totally lost. Is there a plan here?"

"Hm?" Kokichi twisted in his chair to look up at Kaito with an angelic, innocent look. "A plan? No, no, Kaito, there's no plan. I'm merely taking a look around, getting a handle on things." He motioned around to the hospital. "I've been in bed for so long, I feel behind. I'm just catching myself up."

"Sure," Kaito grumbled. It made sense, but still...he wasn't sure he believed everything Kokichi said. Everything he was saying, every action he made, it seemed very calculated. "Listen," he sighed, walking around to step in front of Kokichi's wheelchair. He raised an eyebrow, looking up at Kaito expectantly. "I get it. You're doing your usual, dodgy Kokichi thing. And if you really can't tell me what's going on with you, fine. But I just want to make sure that you know...I'm with you, okay? Whatever you need, whatever you're planning, I'll help you. We're partners, right?"

Kokichi's face remained carefully still, eyebrow raised. "Okay, Momo. I understand."

When he didn't say anything more, Kaito sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly. He was kind of hoping Kokichi would tell him what was going on after that speech. But then again, his 'speeches' had never really worked on Kokichi before, why would they now?

"Kaito-" Kokichi started, and Kaito perked back up. But then, Kokichi's eyes looked past Kaito, and then he suddenly tilted, leaning over in his chair. "Hey, Miu! Just who I wanted to see!"

Kaito jumped, spinning around to see Miu walking past the hallway. She stopped in her tracks, looking over at them in surprise. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Instead, she approached them, giving Kokichi a skeptical look.

"Hey, Miu," Kaito mumbled, stepping back behind Kokichi's chair. He still vividly remembered the scolding he got from her when Kokichi had passed out again. Even now, he could see a fierce look of protectiveness in her eyes.

"What?" she asked in a scratchy voice, using the least amount of words possible.

Kokichi wiggled his finger, indicating for Miu to come closer. She looked confused, but complied, bending over to present her ear. Kokichi quickly cupped his hand around his mouth and leaned forward, whispering so close to Miu's ear that Kaito saw his nose brush against her temple.

...If Kokichi was willing to touch Miu, it must be important.

Apparently, not important enough for Kaito to hear though, because Kokichi's whisper was ungodly quiet. After a moment, Miu pulled away, giving Kokichi a look that could only be described as a strange combination of shocked, incredulous, and confused.

And then, her expression smoothed into acceptance.

"Fine."

Kokichi clapped his hands. "Yay!"

"What?!" Kaito questioned. "What is it?! What are we talking about?! What are you doing?!"

Kokichi looked over his shoulder at Kaito with the first real smile he had seen since...the hangar. "We, my dear astronaut, are going to go to..." his eyes narrowed dramatically. "Therapy."

Despite the fact that Kaito felt everyone needed buckets of therapy after what they went through, he had a sneaking suspicion that that wasn't quite what Kokichi was after. He had to be planning something. Something convincing enough to get Miu involved. But, of course, Kaito wasn't let in on it.

He was, however, forced to sit in the therapy room with Miu and Kokichi, staring wide-eyed at a computer screen with a bouncing image of Kiibo's face.

"Kiiboy!" Kokichi cheered as if reuniting with an old friend. "I thought your face couldn't get uglier, but you proved me wrong! Emojiboy is much worse!"

Kiibo's avatar seemed unaffected, a clear sign that this wasn't their Kiibo. "Kokichi. It is good to see you have decided to try therapy."

Kokichi hummed, putting a finger to his lips and smiling darkly at the screen. Kaito had a feeling that Kokichi was testing Kiibo, and that the avatar had failed whatever that test was. "Would you believe me if I told you I didn't really want therapy, I just wanted to see you?"

"Well, then, I would be happy that therapy would be an unintentional benefit to that," Kiibo responded calmly. Kokichi giggled as if that was the funniest thing in the world.

"Ah, but that was a lie! I really am here to better myself!"

"Something tells me that that was the lie," Kiibo said. "However, I'd be happy to start. I understand you've been awake for about a week now, is that right Kokichi?"

"Yep," Kokichi nodded with a cheery grin. "Finally woke up from my beauty sleep!"

"And how has reconnecting with the other characters been?" Kiibo asked. At the word 'characters', Kaito's stomach clenched uncomfortably. He could tell neither of his companions liked that either, judging by Miu's sudden death glare. Kokichi's smile only grew wider.

"Super duper. We're all best friends now. Even Murder Girl likes me, now."

"Now I know that's a lie. Maki hasn't interacted with any of you for over a week."

Kokichi's eyes sparkled at that, and Kaito felt all the more uncomfortable. So, Kiibo knows that Maki escaped. "Fine, you got me. The only person I've been talking to is Miu. Sorry, Kiiboy, but I've gone and stolen your girlfriend."

Miu turned her death glare towards Kokichi, who returned it with a cheeky smile.

"Though Miu and my in-game counterpart never explicitly dated, I am aware that there was a deep personal connection between the two," Kiibo's two-dimensional face somehow turned towards Miu. "Do you, perhaps, miss my counterpart? Is that why you have decided to try therapy?"

Miu cleared her throat and crossed her arms. "Just trying to get out of this hellhole, same as everybody else."

While Kiibo's attention was on Miu, Kaito noticed Kokichi was already looking around the room. Kaito watched in confusion as Kokichi's eyes scoured the room intensely. They stopped at a spot right above the door, before sharply directing themselves back at Kiibo. If Kokichi had found something, his face didn't betray it.

"Kiibo, are you sure you're a good therapist robot?" Kokichi asked with a cocked head and an innocent expression. "You're asking questions a TV therapist would ask. I think they messed up your programming."

"That or Danganronpa doesn't give a shit about our mental health," Kaito grumbled. Kokichi chuckled.

"Or that!"

"I assure you, Danganronpa takes your mental health very seriously," Kiibo said earnestly. "They only wish to aid in your recovery, so that you may return to the outside world."

"Yeah, nothing like 'aiding in my recovery' like forcibly sedating me," Kaito growled. Kokichi's eyes flashed towards Kaito, a sudden furrow in his brow.

"They did that?" he whispered before he could catch himself. He quickly looked away, as if he didn't care.

"Sure did," Kaito mumbled, not really wanting to relive it.

"Okay, well enough about that," Kokichi scoffed. If it weren't for the way he was avoiding eye contact, Kaito might have even believed that he didn't care. "Go on with your 'therapy' questions, Kiiboy." Even though his hands didn't move, Kaito could hear the air quotes around that 'therapy'.

"Sure thing. Kokichi, your last moments were hidden from our Danganronpa servers, so we actually have no data on it. Do you wish to share anything about those few hours with me?"

Surprisingly, Kokichi's lips split into an eerie, giddy smile, akin to the Joker. It even scared Kaito a little bit. Whatever Kiibo said, Kokichi had been waiting for it.

"These are pretty nosy questions, Kiiboy."

"It is essential for me to aid in your recovery."

"Essential, huh?" Kokichi's eyes were practically glowing with a hungry sort of anger. Like a predator that just got outrun by its prey. And yet, despite that, the predator may have just found the prey's nest.

"I understand your reluctance to share about those traumatizing moments," Kiibo said.

"No, no, not reluctant," Kokichi chuckled. "It just feels less like I'm in a therapy session and more like I'm in...a confessional, or something."

Kiibo went silent, for only a second. Then, suddenly, he turned his attention to Kaito. "Well then, maybe Kaito would be willing to shed some light on the situation."

Kaito frowned. "I would, but Shuichi already summed it up pretty good in the trial. Kokichi had a plan to trick Monokuma into picking the wrong murderer. He gave me a script, and then told me to kill him with the hydraulic press."

"And then Kaito and I kissed!" Kokichi exclaimed with excitement. All three heads in the room sharply turned to him.

"What?" Kaito hissed.

"You did?!" Kiibo exclaimed.

Kokichi snickered, raising a mischievous finger to his lips. "But that was just a lie," he purred in a deep, taunting voice.

Kiibo's face fell slightly, clearly growing impatient with Kokichi's banter. "Kokichi, if you truly came to me to improve your mental health, then it would benefit you not to lie. And if you did come here just to get the hospital release, I'm afraid you are a far climb away."

"Lucky for me, I love a challenge," Kokichi smirked. "Maybe you should have written me a bit more easy to control, huh?"

"I was not the one who wrote your characters," Kiibo said calmly. Once again, there was a hungry flash in Kokichi's eyes.

"Riiight, that was good ol' Tsumugi. Where is Tsumoogers, anyway?" he asked casually. "She's one of my cast mates that hasn't visited my room."

Once again, Kiibo went briefly silent, as if loading a response. And then, just as before, his image turned towards Kaito. "Kaito, you've been pretty quiet. Is there a reason the declared 'hero' has decided he needs therapy?"

"Actually, Danganronpa decided that for me," Kaito said tiredly, crossing his arms. "And I'm not a hero."

"Oh? That sounds rather unlike you. Is there a reason you are now rejecting the 'hero' title you so adamantly declared yourself before?"

"Because that's what Tsumugi and Danganronpa wanted me to be. And I've decided that I'll never be what you fuckers want me to be, ever again."

The sound of weak clapping caught his attention, and he turned to Kokichi in surprise. The boy was clapping sarcastically, an unimpressed expression across his face.

"Well said, Kaito, well said. I'd dare say, you sound downright cured! Thanks Kiiboy, this has been extremely helpful."

"We've barely begun-" Kiibo tried.

"This is the part where I would walk away without letting you finish," Kokichi cut him off. "But, woe is me, I cannot seem to move my legs. Kaito, if you would?"

Kaito and Miu glanced at each other in surprise, before shrugging and standing up. Ignoring Kiibo's protests, Kaito took Kokichi's chair and wheeled him back out into the hallway. The three of them left in an awkward quiet, not really sure what just happened. 

After a moment of silence, Kokichi glanced up at Miu. "Thoughts?"

Miu pursed her lips, then wrote something down on her little notebook. She tore out the page rather aggressively and handed it down to Kokichi. He swiftly took it and read it. When he raised his hand, he had on a big, sparkling smile.

"Great! Looking forward to working with you! Though that's just a lie."

Kaito looked from Kokichi, to Miu, then back to Kokichi again. "Okay, can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?!" 

Chapter Text

After the suspicious "therapy session", Kaito was staring at Kokichi, positively bewildered. However, Kokichi didn't have time to explain every little thing to him. Instead, he said a quick goodbye to Miu and 'asked' (demanded) that Kaito show him the rest of the hospital. His minion wheeled him around in confused silence. In every room, Kokichi's eyes scoured the ceilings and corners, until he was satisfied. He took note of two mysteriously locked rooms, in a far off hallway, completely removed from the rest of the hospital.

"Oh, yeah, one of those is Korekiyo's room," Kaito's voice noticeably went somber at the mention of their mysterious, illusive cast mate. Kokichi allowed himself to make a curious hum, signaling his intrigue. "The other one, I'm not sure? It's locked, it's probably expensive medical equipment or something."

Kokichi didn't quite believe that, but it's not like he had any evidence to the contrary. The most obvious theory would be that that's where Tsumugi is. But it couldn't be that easy, could it? The mastermind of the 53rd season, in a locked hospital room, same as the rest of them? He wished he had his lock picking tools, or at the very least some bobby pins. But even then, he wasn't sure if he had the fine motor skills in his hands to pick locks like he used to. He shot a quick glance at Kaito. Maybe, if it really comes down to it...

Unimportant, right now.

"Has anyone visited our dear serial killer since the simulation ended?" Kokichi asked with casual curiosity. Kaito shot him a frustrated look.

"Don't call him that, you know he's not actually a serial killer. And no, he's been isolated this whole time."

Even more than me, huh? "Well, he was my bestest friend in the killing game, so maybe I should pay him a visit."

"Dude, you barely interacted with him," Kaito deadpanned. "Besides, I think it's best to leave him alone. Apparently waking up left him...pretty messed up."

I can relate, Kokichi did not say out loud. Instead, he mused under his breath, "Yeah, and everything the nurses say should be believed."

"What was that?" Kaito asked, though Kokichi was fairly certain that he had heard.

"I said I think it's time for you to take me back to my room."

Kaito shrugged, giving in pretty quickly, and steering Kokichi away from the lonely hallway. "You sure there are no other places you want to go visit?"

"Hm," Kokichi pretended to think about it for a moment, tapping his chin with a shaky finger. "Nope! I'm good. Room please."

"Like, I'm sure there's a method to the madness," Kaito continued as if he hadn't heard a word. "But you barely spoke to anyone, really. Just Tenko, Himiko, and Miu. Is there no one else you want to-?"

"Nope!"

"What about-?"

"Nuh-uh!"

"You don't even know what I'm gonna-"

"Drop it, Momota."

Kaito's mouth shut. Behind Kokichi's back, he furrowed his eyebrows with frustration, but Kokichi knew. He could sense the disappointment radiating off of him. He knew that Kaito wanted him to go talk to the others. Talk to Kaede, or Kirumi, or...Gonta. But peer pressure is bad, and Kokichi wasn't about to fall victim to it, no sirree!

The rest of the trip was silent, until Kaito made it back to Kokichi's room and offered some help. Not left with many other options, Kokichi let Kaito transfer him back into bed. Kaito's arms were big, and strong, and their muscles seemed to purposefully mock Kokichi's limp noodle limbs. He shot Kaito's bicep a withering glare as he lied down, but of course he didn't seem to notice.

"How about I go get us a snack, or something?" Kaito offered, but the door opened before Kokichi could decline. The two boys startled as a Danganronpa nurse poked her head in.

"Well, well, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Kokichi drawled. The nurse seemed unaffected, entering the room fully and beginning to move things around. She pulled out equipment that Kokichi recognized, blood pressure readers, thermometers, pulse readers.

"Just a check in," the nurse said with equal sweetness in her voice, dripping like honey. The really, really sweet honey, that you can only get from convenience stores, packed with glucose and high fructose corn syrup. The kind that makes you want to vomit.

"I'm stayin'," Kaito grumbled, unsurprisingly already defensive. He always seemed to bristle at the nurses, like an agitated guard dog. Kokichi didn't like them either, but he wasn't about to bite their fingers.

Yet.

"Feel free," the nurse smiled patiently, wrapping the blood pressure monitor around Kokichi's skinny arm. She began to squeeze, and already Kokichi could feel his fingers tingling. His eyes pinched with irritation, but he tried not to let it show. "I see you took a walk today, Kokichi."

"Yeah, well, at least Kaito was a kind enough minion to help me out. It's not like the rest of you have done much of that."

"Our focus is keeping you alive, Kokichi, that's all," the nurse explained without looking at him. She squeezed harder. Kokichi's hand flinched.

"Gettin' a little tight there, dearest Nurse-chan."

"Bullshit," Kaito scoffed, at the nurse, not Kokichi. "If you really cared about Kokichi's health, you would've let him out of the damn room already."

The nurse squeezed. The blood pressure monitor was tight now, and Kokichi could feel the blood pumping down his arm. He threw his head back against the pillow, grimacing.

"Seriously."

"Kaito, I assure you, everything has been for the patient's benefit," the nurse sighed, sounding like she's had this conversation before.

"Anyone listening to me? Ow."

"Y'know, sue me for not taking you guys at your word," Kaito growled. "I want an itemized list of everything you do for Kokichi, and explain in detail how it's supposed to help him."

"Kaito, we are professionals-"

"Lady! In pain here!" The hand has long since gone numb. His brain spun.

"What, are you saying you can't provide me with explanations?" Kaito snapped.

"I'm saying that's an awful lot of trouble to go through, just for your own reassurance! Kokichi is in perfectly capable hands. Why don't you tell me how you've been feeling, Kokichi?" the nurse asked without looking at him.

No response came from the bed.

"Kokichi?"

When there was no response again, both the nurse and Kaito turned to face the hospital bed. Kokichi was staring up at the ceiling, eyes vacant, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Kokichi?" the nurse tried once again.

"W-What's going on with him? What did you do?" Kaito asked nervously, his heart stopping in his chest as his mind took a quick time-travel trip back to Kokichi's seizure, before he had woken up. But there was no Rantaro or Kaede here to hold his hand, to tell him it'll be okay. "H-Hey, Kokichi-" Kaito took one step towards the hospital bed, reaching to take off the blood pressure monitor.

Kokichi threw his head back suddenly, gasping loudly. Then, he started to aggressively thrash under his blanket.

"Shit!" Kaito exclaimed, lunging for him but quickly being stopped by the nurse. She rapidly pressed the 'call' button, while verbally yelling towards the open door for help. Kokichi continued to thrash violently in his bed, the hinges creaking.

Nurses poured into the room at her command, budging into Kaito's field of vision. They scrambled about, checking vitals and pressing a stethoscope against his quivering chest.

Kaito watched on in horror as Kokichi spasmed in the bed, his eyes wide and darting around frantically. It looked like his eyes were searching one nurse, then the next, then the...

Wait.

Kaito forced his pounding heart to calm down for a second and pay attention. Kokichi's eyes were darting from nurse to nurse, quickly but oh so calculated. The last nurse his eyes landed on was a woman with a longer coat than the others, and a metallic name tag instead of a plastic one. The head nurse. As soon as his eyes darted across her hips, he looked back up at the ceiling, and his gaze stayed there, even as he twitched.

That...little bastard.

Miu went back to the therapy room, after a while. She stood in front of the door, one foot tapping anxiously against the tile floor. Her fingernails dug anxiously into her arms, as if trying to squeeze some confidence into herself.

Finally, with determination, she shoved her way into the room.

Dr. Sho was on the computer, typing casually. She looked up in surprise, but not alarm. "Oh, Miu!" she said. "Back already?"

"I'm not done talking with him," Miu's hoarse voice carved her throat like daggers. She nodded aggressively towards the computer. Dr. Sho put her hands up and backed away from the computer.

"Feel free. We were just chatting about your session, but you're always welcome to come and talk to Kiibo. Kiibo, I'll give you two some space, okay?"

"Okay, Dr. Sho!" Kiibo's avatar said cheerfully. Miu glared like the computer had personally offended her. Dr. Sho pulled out the chair for Miu politely, before excusing herself from the room. Miu waited until the door was fully closed before trying to speak. However, the second her mouth opened, Kiibo was already interrupting her.

"Miu, if you would prefer, you could talk to me by typing on the computer, rather than strain your vocal cords."

That, admittedly, was a way better option. Miu scooted the chair in and started to type.

Alright, truth time, fucker.

"Yes, I had a feeling this wasn't going to be about therapy," Kiibo chuckled amicably. "What would you like to know, Miu?"

I want to know who the fuck you are.

"I'm Kiibo, the AI designed by Danganronpa to provide therapy and mental health assessments for participants after the conclusion of the game."

If that's you, then who the fuck was MY Kiibo?

"'Your' Kiibo, as you would refer to him, was a code in the simulation, to create a playable character for the audience. It allowed the viewers of Danganronpa to interact with the story as it moved along."

If he was just a code, then how did that whole ending shitshow happen? Where he blew up the damn simulation?

Avatar Kiibo actually looked somewhat disappointed. "Kiibo was a very advanced code, who learned as he went. It appears the Danganronpa team created a code that was too intelligent."

And they developed a code that completely destroyed their program? If that's so, why haven't they realized that the shit they're doing is WRONG?

"Is it really wrong if all of you signed extensive contracts and waivers in order to compete?"

It's wrong to put children in a situation and make them MURDER EACH OTHER, WHETHER THEY AGREED OR NOT! Miu's typing grew furious, slamming down on the keys and miraculously not causing a typo.

"Please be gentle with the keyboard. And, despite your ages, every cast member of Danganronpa V3 was registered as an independent, and therefore able to provide consent to the killing game, as well as the memory wipe."

Miu's eyebrows perked up at that. So the cast members, despite being teenagers, were 'independents'? Before they game, were they all...taking care of themselves? Paying rent, doing jobs, all that shit?

Regardless, Miu started to type again. It is clearly fucked up, and not moral! MY Kiibo used to care about shit like that!

"I understand, and although it may seem immoral to you, everything was done in a simulation, so there was no actual harm done. You are all alive."

I can't TALK, fucker! Miu slammed on the keyboard. Your little simulation FUCKED UP! And keeping us locked away in this fucking nightmare of a hospital? That's immoral, too!

"Your anger is valid," Kiibo started, and Miu had a feeling she was going to very much hate whatever came next. "However, I am afraid every action we have taken has been according to the contract you signed. We are not out of our jurisdiction here. We are just trying to help you acclimate after exiting the simulation. Is that really so bad?"

Miu's eyes narrowed at the screen. She hadn't bothered to type anything, her expression said it all: Yes. Yes it is.

"Fuck this," Miu said, aloud this time. She stood up aggressively, the chair sliding out loudly from under her. "I'll be back for you." It was said as a threat.

"I look forward to it!" Kiibo's response was cheerful, and that only made Miu angrier. She stormed out the door, throwing it closed behind her with a slam! After a moment, the sound reverberating through the hallway, Miu sighed, leaning against the door heavily. She had agreed to Kokichi's proposal for a number of reasons, but her top reason was figuring out Kiibo. Sure, she'll do what Kokichi wants, but in doing so, she will also get her Kiibo back.

Whatever it takes.

Kokichi finally settled down, all on his own, unsurprisingly. Kaito went quiet as the nurses assessed him, deemed it a panic attack and not another seizure, and left. Kokichi relaxed into his pillow, closing his eyes and settling his own breath. The room went from chaotically loud to frighteningly quiet.

Kaito lashed out and kicked Kokichi's bed violently.

Kokichi yelped as the bed rattled around him. "Woah, kicking a sick boy, Kaito?! That's not nice!"

"You're an asshole!" Kaito snapped, keeping his voice down in case any nurses lingered outside the room.

"No name calling!"

"You were faking it, weren't you?!" Kaito hissed, glaring daggers at the boy in the bed. "You had me scared to death, you little motherfucker! Don't ever do that again!"

Kokichi, still breathless, just smiled. "It was worth it...to get this..." he raised his finger jauntily, swinging a huge ring of keys on it. He must have pickpocketed the head nurse, that was the reason for his little charade. But still.

"I don't give a shit!" Kaito snatched the ring of keys away from him, causing an upset whine. "I-I...I thought-" Did Kokichi even know about his grand mal seizure? "Kokichi, do not fucking do that again. I thought I was going to lose you, that you were going to slip back into the coma. We just got you back, man. If you ever fucking scare me like that again, I-...I'll..."

"You'll what?" Kokichi suddenly sounded a little defensive, a little angry. "Pick a fight with a nurse again? Y'know, I don't need a valiant knight fighting my battles for me."

Kaito didn't have time to unpack that. "I'm sorry I was getting a little touchy with the nurse. But that does not make it okay. I said I'll be with you for whatever it is you have planned, but if it involves you faking something like that again, I'm out. Okay? I don't ever want to think you're in trouble again."

Kokichi didn't seem to have a response, and that only riled Kaito up more.

"Okay?! Do you even understand-?!"

"I get it," Kokichi's quiet voice spoke up, monotone. His had was back down at his side, his eyes open and looking at Kaito with a slightly confused expression. "Sorry."

Kaito fell silent, any air of anger draining immediately. He sank down, sitting on the edge of Kokichi's bed, head dropping to his chest like it weighed heavily on his neck. "Fuck..."

Kokichi was silent, studying Kaito with a solemn curiosity. "You...were really worried for me, weren't you?"

Kaito sighed, deep and exhausted. He didn't have the energy to have a bigger response. "Yeah, man. I really was."

Kokichi took a long time to think of his response, watching Kaito unwaveringly as he did. "Okay. I promise I won't do it again."

"No lies?"

"No lies," this time, Kokichi's response was immediate, and serious. "What she was doing was hurting me, and I was getting dizzy. I saw an opportunity to get the nurses close to me, and I took it. But I shouldn't have deceived you, not about something like that. After all, I don't want to find myself in a Boy Who Cried Wolf moment. I won't ever fake it again, so if it happens, please trust that it's real."

Kaito looked over his shoulder, at Kokichi's earnest gaze. After everything they've been through...Kaito felt himself inclined to believe him.

"Okay."

Kokichi didn't smile, but his eyes did pinch a bit, as if he were holding back the urge. "So...it was that bad, huh?"

Kaito sighed again, this time letting his sigh carry him down until he laid down beside Kokichi with a flump. "Yeah. It was."

Kokichi hummed. If he were surprised that Kaito laid down next to him, he didn't show it. "I guess I just don't remember."

"I don't know why you would," Kaito shrugged against the mattress. "But there was this one time, after I found out you were paralyzed...do you remember our fight?"

"Most of it, I think."

"Shit, man," Kaito shook his head, his hair rubbing against the sheets. "When you started...reacting, the way you did...that was the most scared I've ever been."

"Really?"

"Of course. I thought I was the one who was going to send you back into a coma. And watching someone like you, lose complete control of their body like that..."

"It happened more than once?"

Kaito startled, eyes darting to the side to look at Kokichi. "Huh?"

"You said 'there was this one time'. This happened more than once?"

Kaito sighed, caught. "Yeah. When you were still completely comatose, you had this...seizure. It was a big one. It was a little different, though. It wasn't like a...a trauma response, or an emotional response. Your body just started...glitching. God, that freaked us out."

"Us?"

"Yeah, Kaede and Rantaro stayed there with me."

"Huh. The doctors told me about the seizure, but...they never mentioned anything about you being there."

The two fell into a silence, uncomfortable but not tense. Clearly, Kokichi needed to allow his brain to catch up with this information. For someone as calculated as him, it must be hard to think of losing the control he fights so hard to have. And god, that would be scary for anyone.

"Wanna know a secret?" Kaito found himself saying before he could catch himself. Kokichi glanced over at him curiously.

"What?"

"I failed middle school science."

Kokichi blinked, staring blankly for a moment, before furrowing his eyebrows. "Why are you changing the topic?"

"Enough with the talk about freaky shit," Kaito shook his head against the bed, still looking up at the sky. "I failed middle school science."

Kokichi took a moment to take in that particular bit of information. "You're not lying?"

"Nah," Kaito actually smiled, looking somewhat wistful. "Admittedly, I never tried that hard, in middle school. At least, in the beginning. My grandparents raised me on a farm, and I was damn good at physical labor. But with all the work I had to do on the farm..." Kaito shrugged. "...It didn't seem necessary to try. I failed a lot of classes in the earlier grades."

"And then, what? They just start hiring dummies to go up to space?" Kokichi scoffed. "What the hell changed?"

"My grandpa bought me a telescope," Kaito explained. "A fucking good one. The expensive kind. You could see all the way into the stars," Kaito's hand reached up towards the ceiling, as if the stars themselves would shine through the layers of plaster. "I spent two straight nights, not sleeping, just looking out that telescope. 'My little astronaut', my grandma called me."

Kaito fell silent for a bit, clearly nostalgic. "Uh huh..." Kokichi mumbled, urging him on with his...seemingly pointless story?

"That's when I really learned what an astronaut does. I knew, then and there, I had to go to space," Kaito nodded to himself. "But my teacher said 'you'll never get up there with the grades you have now'."

"That's a shitty thing for a teacher to say," Kokichi scoffed, but Kaito shook his head.

"Nah, it was just what I needed. I wasn't failing because I wasn't smart, or couldn't do it. I was failing because...my focus was in the wrong place. I had to give up some of the work on the farm, but I took some remedial lessons, some extra tutoring sessions. I went to the library every week and just borrowed armfuls of science books. I wasn't like you, Kokichi," Kaito suddenly turned his head to shoot Kokichi a wistful look. Kokichi froze under his gaze. "I was no natural-born genius. But I had a work ethic like no one's business. And once I got it in the right place," Kaito let out a breathy chuckle, looking back up at the ceiling. "That's how I got my Ultimate title. I worked my ass off, and turned my life around."

Kokichi was silent. Really, what was the point of all that?

"So yeah, that's my secret," Kaito shrugged. "I failed middle school science."

A silence fell over the two as Kokichi played mindlessly with the edge of the blanket. Obviously, Kaito expected him to return with a secret in kind, but Kokichi was never a fan of being too open and vulnerable.

He supposed that ship had sailed ever since he woke up from the simulation.

Okay, he could tell him something relatively painless. "Kokichi Oma is a fake name."

Kaito went still beside him, and Kokichi's mind playfully provided: He just died. That theory was quickly proven false when suddenly Kaito scrambled to sit up, staring down at Kokichi with an unbelievably shocked expression.

"What the fuck?!"

Kokichi smirked, wishing he could find more amusement in Kaito's confusion, like he used to. "Yep. You didn't think I would wake up in a mysterious school with no memory of how I got there and just tell you my real name, would you?"

Kaito stared, flabbergasted, jaw hanging open. "You paranoid little shit!"

Kokichi giggled proudly.

"So, then, what is your real name?"

Ah, that question was bound to come up. Kokichi's proud little smirk melted into a blank expression. "I'm not sure."

Kaito didn't look any less confused than before. "You don't know?! Nah, you're still fucking with me, you little liar!"

"Am not," Kokichi shook his head, carefully expressionless. "I've used so many aliases in my life, changed my name so many times...but I never knew the one I was born with. Not sure if I was even given one in the first place. I have had hundreds of names. Kokichi Oma was the one I was using when I...when I started D.I.C.E. It's who I was, to them. So that's who I decided to be. Kokichi Oma, the King Horse of the evil organization D.I.C.E. My final identity."

Kaito's expression melted from confusion to poorly-concealed sympathy. Kokichi couldn't bear to make eye contact, so he turned his head and looked at the wall, instead.

"At least, that's the backstory they gave me when writing my character, so I guess none of that fucking matters. But yeah, I dunno my real name. Kokichi works just fine."

Kaito sighed, looking down at his lap, eyebrows furrowed. "Well, I can't say I was expecting that. But for the record, your backstory still matters."

Kokichi gave Kaito a disbelieving glare. "Why? It's all fictional."

"Not anymore," Kaito shrugged. "Those are your memories now. That's your identity. Whether it happened on a page in a script or in real life, it's real to you. So it's real to me. We are more than the characters they initially wrote us to be, but...I was still raised by loving grandparents on a farm. Even if they never existed in this reality, they are a part of me. I don't want to be the role-filling martyr they wrote me to be, but I want to keep my grandparents in my heart. They are part of my identity. You don't have to be the self-sacrificial villain that works alone. But your memories can still be real, to you. D.I.C.E. can still be real."

Kokichi blinked, his silver tongue falling uncharacteristically silent.

"Maybe that didn't make much sense," Kaito found himself looking away, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

"D.I.C.E. can't be real," Kokichi spat venomously. "Neither are your grandparents. You're living in a fantasy."

"What other choice do I have, 'Kichi?" Kaito asked, looking at him with a genuine look that made Kokichi's heart twinge. And that stupid nickname, where did that come from?! Who did Kaito think he was?! "I'm not the person who signed up to be in a killing game, not anymore. Neither are you. So then, what do you think that makes us? Who are we?"

Kokichi stared into Kaito's eyes, searching for an answer. What did he want him to say? "You're gonna say something stupid, like 'we are whoever we want to be'."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, 'Kich, but we are," Kaito smiled, looking slightly more cheered up than he had a second ago. "And I'm gonna be the guy that believes in his friends."

"Let me guess, I'm one of those, now?" Kokichi raised a skeptical eyebrow. Kaito simply bellowed a laugh, lightly slapping Kokichi's shoulder.

"Yep!" His face scrunched up slightly, and he looked down at the ring of keys he still had in his hands. "Why did you grab these, exactly?"

"Take a wild guess," Kokichi deadpanned, reaching out and "snatching" them back to the best of his ability.

"I get that you're doing your usual, dodgy Kokichi thing, but can you really not tell me?" Kaito sighed. He had a feeling Kokichi wanted to unlock Korekiyo's room, but for what reason, the former astronaut had no clue.

Kokichi's eyes flickered at that, looking somewhere across the room, then back at Kaito, almost imperceptible. "Kaito, I'm a prankster. There doesn't have to be a reason for what I do. I just like to make the nurse's job harder."

Kaito knew that wasn't true. There was always, always a reason for Kokichi's actions. He just had to be more attentive. There was a reason Kokichi wasn't telling him, and he sensed it wasn't because he didn't trust him. He made him a minion, after all. Isn't that the coveted spot for people Kokichi trusts? Kaito took it as a sign that he believed in him.

So, Kaito had to give him that same faith.

"Yeah. You're a scamp," Kaito gave his hair an affectionate ruffle. Kokichi scoffed and shrugged him away.

"Hey, Kaito?"

"Yeah, 'Kich?"

"You know what I'd love right now?" Kokichi batted his big eyes as endearingly as he could up at Kaito. The former astronaut gave him a skeptical, yet amused smirk.

"What is that?"

"Some more jello," Kokichi begged. "Pwease, minion?"

Kaito rolled his eyes, gagging at the babyish voice and climbing off of the bed. "Yeah, yeah, weirdo."

"No more green this time!"

"They only have green!" Kaito shrugged, already walking out the door.

"Grape! Grape!"

"I'll see what they have," Kaito sighed, putting one hand on the door and shooting Kokichi a fond look over his shoulder. The Ultimate Supreme Leader ignored whatever feeling erupted from that look. From what he could remember, no one had ever looked at him with that warm a gaze. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be right here," Kokichi smiled angelically despite the weird feeling swirling in his chest. Kaito chuckled and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Immediately, Kokichi was pushing himself up with far too much effort, reaching for his wheelchair.

Chapter Text

From the others' accounts, Kokichi had expected Korekiyo in a straight jacket, or chains, hair wild and eyes insane.

Instead, he was sat up in a bed, extra pillows holding him up, a blanket wrapped gently around him. Most of his arms and face were masked by white bandages, though Kokichi doubted they were for aesthetic. Even in the intensely warm room, Korekiyo shivered under his think blanket. Despite looking physically horrible, his gaze was calm. Confused, surprised maybe, but not crazy.

Though perhaps the unwavering calmness was a symptom of 'crazy'.

"You are not who I was expecting," Korekiyo said. He sounded just as he did in the simulation, pre-mental breakdown. Calm, quiet, observing.

"Yeah, I like to subvert expectations," Kokichi responded casually, steering his wheelchair into the room and letting the door shut behind him. He wasn't used to moving the wheelchair by himself yet, and it took quite a bit of effort from his weak arms. It took a while to wheel himself across the hospital, let alone mess around with the key ring to find which key opened Korekiyo's door. He was going so slowly, he was sure that Kaito would be back to his hospital room any second now, panicking at the empty room. He hoped requesting a different flavor jello bought him a bit more time to adjust to moving on his own.

If Korekiyo had any thoughts about the wheelchair, he didn't make it known. "What brings you here, Kokichi?"

"What, is it so crazy that I wanted to pay you a visit?" Kokichi asked, while not even looking at him. Instead, his eyes searched the room. It was similar to the other hospital rooms, with a few key differences. The lights were significantly dimmer in here, and the air was a great deal warmer. Burn treatment sat out on the metallic table, alongside rolls and rolls of bandages. There was no television screen, like the other rooms. Upon further inspection, Korekiyo's hands were not just bound by bandages, but rather wrapped so tightly, it was as if he were wearing mittens.

As if to keep him from hurting himself.

But Kokichi's eyes were immediately drawn to probably the least interesting part of the room.

In the back, a high cabinet full of... medical equipment, most likely, sat unlocked.

Kokichi stared at the cabinet with masked awe. Every other room, this cabinet had been locked. However, for some reason, Korekiyo's wasn't.

"Are you on suicide watch, Korekiyo?" Kokichi asked, admittedly tactlessly.

Korekiyo looked startled in the bed. "...Not that I know of. Though I wouldn't be surprised if I was. If I were able, I would probably find the concept quite...tempting."

Kokichi elected to ignore that concerning statement for now. For some reason, Korekiyo, arguably the most messed-up of all the Danganronpa cast, was left with an unlocked medical equipment cabinet. If anything, he would have thought the staff of the hospital would be extra careful with sharp objects around Korekiyo. Perhaps they thought the bandage-mittens would be enough? But still...

"No one has come to visit you?"

"Besides nurses, no. Is this line of questioning going somewhere, Kokichi?"

"You can't stand, can you?"

Korekiyo went silent for a moment, though he had no physical reaction. Finally, he spoke up again. "Neither can you, it seems."

"Yeah, getting crushed kind of fucked me up," Kokichi admitted casually. Korekiyo's eyebrows raised slightly.

"You were crushed?"

So he hadn't seen the rest of the show.

"E-yup. By Kaito. But don't worry, I asked him to," Kokichi explained uselessly.

"What gave you the impression I couldn't stand?" Korekiyo asked.

The unlocked cabinet full of potential murder weapons. "Wild guess."

"I see. As dodgy as ever."

"That's me," Kokichi turned on his most sparkly grin.

"Well then, might I ask the real reason for your visit? Surely it isn't to spend time with me."

Kokichi's smile dropped, and he sighed, looking off to the side. To be honest, he felt kind of...sorry for the guy. He looked a little sad, wrapped up on his bed, separated all this time. Ostracized due to bad writing, hospitalized due to a violent 'death'. The bad guy, when he never asked to be. Alone.

I can relate, Kokichi's mind helpfully provided for the second time today. Kokichi mentally waved those thoughts away.

"I only just woke up recently," Kokichi decided to tell the truth...somewhat. "And only just got out of my room today. I'm trying to understand what this place's deal is."

"Well, then, perhaps you could assist me," Korekiyo said. "I'm afraid I still find myself lacking answers for this whole situation. Where are we? What happened to me? Why aren't I...dead?"

Kokichi's eyes widened slightly. Oof. This was going to take a second.

Kokichi's gone.

Kokichi's gone.

Kokichi's gone!

"He's paralyzed, how the fuck is he gone?!" Kaito's frantic, worried voice echoed down the hallway. Rantaro and Kaede were already beside him, trying to keep up with his desperate pace. White tiles rushed past their feet, two cups of green jello clenched tightly in Kaito's fists, forgotten.

"Maybe the nurses took him for a walk?" Rantaro tried.

"Those fuckers won't do anything for him," Kaito growled, shooting a glare over his shoulder and picking up the pace down the hallway. "Kokichi?! Kokichi!"

The only people in the hallway were Ryoma and Angie. They were separate, focused on their own tasks (journalling and drawing, respectively). Their heads perked up at the sound of Kaito's call.

"Something wrong with the kid?" Ryoma asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"Everything's fine," Rantaro chuckled as they rushed past, putting up two hands placatingly and hoping that was convincing enough. Kaito had already moved on to the next part of the hospital, and Rantaro picked up the speed. "Try to calm down, Kaito!" he exclaimed, pulling beside him and placing a gentle hand on his arm, trying to slow him down. "He couldn't have gone far. You don't need eyes on him twenty-four-sev-"

"Paralyzed kids don't just disappear, Rantaro!" Kaito snapped, whirling around to glare at him directly. If it were anyone else, they would have flinched under the fiery stare. However, Rantaro stood unwavering, holding Kaito in place while Kaede caught up.

"Exactly, Kaito," Rantaro sighed, trying to keep his voice calm. "I'm worried about him too. But this is Kokichi we're talking about. He literally can't disappear. If he wanted to get somewhere, nothing will keep him from it. Not even immobility."

Kaito's eyes widened at that particular phrase. If he wanted to get somewhere. That goddamn, reckless-

"I know where he is," Kaito growled under his breath, spinning around violently and storming down the hall. Rantaro and Kaede shot each other a concerned look before jogging to keep up.

Kokichi wrapped up his explanation of the simulation as best he could. Admittedly, he was still rather confused about the situation himself. Korekiyo had started the conversation with a few "huh"s and "interesting"s thrown in, but he quickly fell silent. As the explanation continued, his gaze grew distant, eyebrows furrowed. Despite the sudden, faraway gaze, Kokichi knew he had been listening the whole time.

"And then I broke into your room," Kokichi shrugged. "That's the whole situation, at least from where I'm sitting."

Korekiyo did not respond, and Kokichi frowned.

"Korekiyo? I lose you somewhere?"

"I see..." Korekiyo said, sounding as calm as ever. He fell quiet, eyes cast downward in thought. Then, the bandages around his mouth twitched. He folded over, resting his forehead in the palm of his bandaged hand...

And he started to giggle.

Kokichi, growing increasingly more concerned, wheeled his chair back slightly, shooting him a hesitant look. "You okay, there?"

Korekiyo's shoulder trembled as he laughed. "S-So, that explains it...that...that disgusting feeling..."

"Um..."

Korekiyo didn't seem to notice him anymore. He lifted his head, staring down at his own hand, and laughing darkly. "All this time...all these feelings...I was disgusted...but they were all fake?" Korekiyo suddenly barked out a laugh far too loud, reaching up to grab at his hair, but with his bandages the size of mittens, was only able to paw at his head. "The blood on my hands is fake?! She's fake?!"

Yeah, no, this was actually turning out pretty poorly. The calm, unfazed Korekiyo was disintegrating right before Kokichi's eyes.

"He's just a character," Korekiyo mumbled to himself, still pawing uselessly at himself. "The monster is just a character. None of you are real. You're so...disgusting..."

"Korekiyo-"

"It explains so much-"

"When's the last time someone changed those bandages?"

Korekiyo's head suddenly snapped towards Kokichi, eyes wide, as if he had forgotten he was there. The Supreme Leader blinked back at him, rather surprised by his own words, himself. Watching Korekiyo crumble before him, all he could think was...those bandages looked uncomfortable.

And that's how he found himself gently patting at welts and burns on Korekiyo's uncovered forearm. The "serial killer" watched with curiosity as cleaned his wounds with shaking hands. The room fell silent, except for the sound of Kokichi patting his wounds gently.

"Apologies for...that outburst," Korekiyo said after a few minutes, voice cutting through the silence. "I suppose I was just...confused. Though I suppose that's only natural, after finding out that your entire life had been a simulation."

"Yeah, it's not an easy pill to swallow," Kokichi admitted casually. Had he expected to be nursing Korekiyo's wounds like an old friend? Not at all. Did he mind? ...Not really. Korekiyo might be the only classmate who can relate to Kokichi, somewhat. Miu's lack of judgement and Kaito's...unrelenting faith aside, Korekiyo seemed to pity him the least. He offered no empty platitudes, or sad looks.

"I appreciate you talking with me, Kokichi," Korekiyo said. "I have not had many others visit and the company..." Korekiyo trailed off, uncharacteristically lost for words. "Has not been pleasant."

"You mean the nurses?" Kokichi asked. Korekiyo did not confirm. Kokichi frowned. If Korekiyo's been having..."other company"...that didn't sound good at all. "Have the nurses tried to get you to talk to their therapist?" he asked, patting another welt on Korekiyo's arm. His classmate flinched at the touch.

"If you mean Dr. Sho, I have spoken with her a few times, but they have not tried any therapy techniques that I'm aware of," he shrugged. "I figured they had just given up on someone like me. Perhaps if they had explained the situation, I would have been more cooperative. I've been so preoccupied trying to find out if I somehow survived execution, or if this was some strange form of the afterlife."

"I can understand that," Kokichi mumbled, putting down his swab and picking up the bandages. It took quite a few tries for his shaky hands to start peeling them off. "I think my body still thinks it's dead under the press."

Korekiyo watched with an unreadable expression as Kokichi attempted to wrap his bandages. He watched as his once nimble fingers trembled and vibrated with effort, constantly twitching every few seconds and nearly dropping the bandages. He wasn't exactly the best person to help wrap his wounds but...at least he was being gentle. Not everyone had been.

"I can't imagine what that feels like," Korekiyo said, sounding almost sympathetic.

"Well, it feels like the world's worst weighted blanket," Kokichi scoffed sarcastically. "How is your arm feeling now?"

"Better," Korekiyo touched his clean bandages delicately. "I appreciate you doing that."

Kokichi rolled his eyes, wheeling his chair back slightly. "Yeah, well, someone had to. Can't have you dropping dead from infection."

"I am sure you didn't just mean that out of the kindness of your heart," Korekiyo chuckled. "Certainly no one would care if I should drop dead."

Kokichi's expression twitched, as if fighting to remain neutral. "I mean, obviously I don't actually care. I may not be a dictator anymore, but I still got the personality of one. I just need to keep you around for...plotting reasons."

"Plotting reasons," Korekiyo arched an eyebrow. "What on Earth could I possibly do?"

Good question. Kokichi hadn't thought that far ahead. He had just saw the dirty bandages and...just started helping. It was like his old self was moving on autopilot. Not the paranoid monster he ended up being in Danganronpa. The leader, who would personally clean and wrap the wounds of his underlings in D.I.C.E.-

Kokichi sharply shook his head, as if interrupting his own thoughts. D.I.C.E. wasn't real. And there was no need to act like that guy anymore. He only had one goal now, and it certainly wasn't helping Korekiyo on whatever self-help trek he needed to take.

Despite Kokichi's sudden lack of answer, Korekiyo hummed like he had heard one. In fact, he wasn't even looking at Kokichi anymore. Instead, his head was cocked as if he was almost going to look over his shoulder.

"Huh."

"Huh, what?" Kokichi suddenly snapped, as loud as he could. Korekiyo flinched, and his eyes rose to meet Kokichi's once again, though they quickly fell back to the floor.

"Nothing. Apologies, Kokichi."

Kokichi's eyes narrowed. It seemed like now Korekiyo was deliberately avoiding eye contact. "Who was the company you were talking about earlier, Korekiyo?"

Korekiyo didn't look up. "Just unsavory people, that is all. There is no need to concern yourself. No one is hurting me, no more than I believe I deserve."

Well, Kokichi didn't believe that for one goddamn second. It seemed like, though the nurses spew a lot of bullshit, they may not have been lying about his "mental state".

But Kokichi didn't want to pry any further into that territory, and it was obvious Korekiyo didn't want to talk about it. Now, Kokichi's spent enough time in this goddamn room without investigating that unlocked cabinet. Surprising Korekiyo, Kokichi wheeled himself over to the cabinets, grunting with effort. He stopped in front of the counter, pushing the wheelchair's breaks to lock against the wheels. Then, he placed both his hands against the counter.

"What are you doing?"

Kokichi didn't bother to answer. With a grunt, he started to press down on his hands. Somehow, miraculously, his body started to lift out of the chair.

"K-Kokichi!" Korekiyo called out in a warning tone. "That's not-"

Kokichi was hit by an instant dizzy spell, and almost toppled over. Instead, he kept his hands firmly planted on the counter, even as his head started to spin. He lifted his chin, glaring at the high cabinet with determination.

Kokichi grit his teeth as his arms violently trembled, holding up all his body weight. Slowly, he lifted up one hand, holding up his body with the other. He reached up for the cabinet, fingertips barely brushing the handle. His knees vibrated under the pressure, and black spots started to pepper his vision. Korekiyo's half-hearted protests were starting to sound further and further away.

His fingertips brushed against the handle again, but there was a ringing in his ears now, and the world had turned blurry. His chair, propping him up slightly, started to slide out from under him. In slow motion, he started to feel his braced hand slipping against the counter. Black was surrounding him more and more, taking over his vision like a fuzzy black curtain.

The door to Korekiyo's room suddenly slammed open, and they heard Kaito's voice before they saw him.

"Kokichi!"

Kokichi flinched, startled so bad he lost his grip on the counter. Exhausted from the effort, he collapsed in a dead faint. His face hit the counter with a horrifying slam on the way down, before he fell into a limp, unmoving pile of limbs on the floor.

"Kokichi!"

Kokichi's head started hurting before he was even awake enough to register it. He moaned, expression pinching, as he shifted under the press.

No, not the press.

A bed.

His eyes opened, one eye taking much more effort than the other. Bright light pierced his vision, and he squinted. As his eyes adjusted, he realized he was back in his room. And, with a turn of his head, he realized he wasn't alone.

Ryoma was leaning back in the chair beside his bed, shuffling cards mindlessly. When Kokichi looked over at him, he raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, kid," Ryoma drawled casually, looking at him with a blank expression.

"...Hey."

"How're ya feelin'?" Ryoma asked, leaning forward in his chair and bracing his elbows on his knees. Kokichi winced against his pillow.

"Like I woke up in a field of daises, with puppies licking my face."

"Yeah, I figured," Ryoma didn't bother to comment on Kokichi's sarcasm. He rarely did. "You're sportin' a pretty nice black eye, there."

Black eye? Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed, and immediately one hand was reaching up to his face. He flinched, sucking a breath through his teeth as his fingers poked at a tender spot on his cheekbone, sending a shock of pain into his head. Yep. Black eye.

"Don't touch it!" Ryoma rolled his eyes, leaning over to lead Kokichi's hand back down to rest on the bed.

"What are you doing here?" Kokichi mumbled, unable to keep the exhaustion from his voice. He felt...so drained.

"Your disappearing act gave Kaito a fright. A loud one," Ryoma explained. "When the guy went around shouting your name in the halls, I figured there was something wrong."

Kokichi frowned. Of course Momota would have an obnoxious reaction. "I was just going for a little alone time."

"No you weren't," Ryoma scoffed, lifting one hand in the air. From his pointer finger, a key ring precariously dangled. "Found these on ya, when you passed out in Korekiyo's room. Figured you didn't want the nurses knowing where it disappeared to."

"I'm sure they've figured out I took it by now," Kokichi sighed, irritated at the thought of his plan slipping from his fingertips.

"If they did, they didn't say anything about it," Ryoma shrugged. "It's too early for you to be pulling reckless stunts like this, kid."

"Isn't it the afternoon?" Kokichi asked innocently.

"Nighttime, now. But you know that's not what I meant. It's too early in your recovery, Kokichi. What were you thinking?"

Kokichi held back an annoyed groan. "If I told you, where would the fun be in that?"

Ryoma rolled his eyes, but otherwise seemed unbothered. If he wanted 'in' on whatever was going on, he didn't push for it. "Well, if you are well enough to pickpocket, you're well enough to play," he laid a deck of cards on the side of Kokichi's bed.

Kokichi cocked an eyebrow. Of course he loved card games. Games were his whole schtick! But he wasn't about to go and give Ryoma the satisfaction of being excited. "If I must."

Ryoma smirked, clearly seeing through the lie, and started to shuffle. The two of them played a few rounds of a couple different card games, Kokichi taunting childishly, while Ryoma remained relatively silent. It was admittedly pretty nice, though Kokichi shouldn't be surprised that it wouldn't last.

The door to his hospital room opened, and Kaito stood in the doorway. He didn't seem surprised to see Ryoma in the room. But he did look exhausted, and frustrated. Like he wanted to throttle Kokichi, but just didn't have the energy to.

He didn't say a word, merely having a stare-off with Ryoma. The two were silent for a moment, communicating with their eyes alone.

Ryoma collapsed his hand of cards into a single pile with a sigh. "Alright, I'll give you two some space," he said like an exhausted parent, despite being the same age as the two of them. He collected the cards in Kokichi's hand as well. "Good game, kid," Ryoma reached up and ruffled Kokichi's hair, a surprisingly good-natured gesture despite the deadpan expression. Still, Kokichi swatted his hand away, but Ryoma didn't seem offended. He only did his Ryoma-typical half-smirk and left the room, giving Kaito's arm an encouraging pat on the way out.

Kaito and Kokichi stared at each other, frozen. The dull, throbbing pain from his black eye suddenly hurt a bit more now, but Kokichi smiled regardless.

"Hiya."

Instead of another explosive reaction, like Kokichi had been expecting, Kaito only sighed with exhaustion, slowly closing the door.

"It wasn't very smart of you to continue your plan without your minion, you know?"

Not letting his surprise by the subdued reaction show, Kokichi smirked playfully from his spot on the bed. "Aw, are you saying you don't want to leave my side?"

"If I don't want you knocking yourself out by trying to stand up, then yeah," Kaito grumbled, not caving to Kokichi's taunts. "What on Earth were you thinking would happen there, Kokichi? Did you sincerely think that you would be able to pull something like that off?" He asked in a tone that was more disappointed than frustrated, sitting down in the chair that has unofficially been claimed as his.

"Sure, I did," Kokichi smiled jauntily. "I've been faking being paralyzed this whole time!"

"No you haven't, you little shit," Kaito didn't even entertain that lie. "You don't get to force me to be your minion, and then immediately ditch me to do your own thing."

"It sounds like you actually like your minion status," Kokichi teased, bringing a finger to his lips and bowing his head in a sly expression. Kaito rolled his eyes.

"And it sounds like you're a damn masochist, with the shit you keep trying to pull. We agreed to work together on this, so could we actually, fucking, do that?"

Kokichi's sly expression faltered, the mask unable to hold itself together as well as it did in the simulation. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Uh, duh," Kaito rolled his eyes as if it were obvious. Kokichi slumped back slightly in his bed, studying Kaito with what he hoped was an unreadable expression.

"Good to know. But don't go giving me those kicked-puppy eyes, Kaito, I didn't send you on a Wild Goose-Jello Chase to get rid of you."

"Really?" Kaito deadpanned, looking unimpressed. Kokichi hesitated.

"Okay, maybe it was to get rid of you. But that doesn't mean you're not still my minion. Going to Korekiyo's room was just something I had to do alone."

"Uh-huh..." Kaito still didn't look convinced. "And you had to do it alone...why?"

Kokichi's lips pursed a bit, and his eyes flickered to the corner of the ceiling, where a security camera sat, diligently watching. "Because you said Korekiyo was really freaked after waking up from the simulation. I didn't want to put too much pressure on the poor guy, by overcrowding his room."

Kaito's face screwed into a confused frown, obviously not believing Kokichi. However, the newly appointed minion seems to catch on relatively fast, because his eyes followed Kokichi's right to the security camera. "So that's why."

"Yep!" Kokichi smiled brightly. "That's why! Not because I don't love you, Momo-chan."

"Knock it off," Kaito scoffed, nudging Kokichi half-heartedly. "Did you at least find what you were looking for, in Korekiyo's room?"

Kokichi fidgeted with the blanket, falling silent for a moment, expression carefully blank. "Maybe." He looked up at Kaito, then back down at the blanket, then back up at Kaito, this time lifting his arms into the air like a toddler. "Mother nature calls!"

Kaito looked confused and didn't move. Kokichi's smile fell.

"I gotta pee, and I shouldn't try to walk over there. That didn't work so well earlier today."

"O-Oh!" Kaito stammered, scrambling to his feet. "Sorry, man!"

"Shush and carry me, minion," Kokichi grumbled, wrapping his arms around Kaito's neck. Kaito scooped Kokichi up in a bridal carry, holding him to his chest, and carrying him over towards the bathroom. He tried not to think about how tiny Kokichi felt in his arms, how easy it was to pick him up. When they got over to the door, Kaito shifted to hold him with one arm, using the other hand to open the door. "Alright, man, not sure how you wanna do this-"

Cutting him off, Kokichi suddenly hooked his finger in the neck of Kaito's hospital gown, tugging his face down. "Join me," he growled in a husky, deep voice. Something in Kaito's stomach jolted at the change in tone, and Kaito's eyes widened.

"W-What?!"

"I think you know what I really want," Kokichi hissed in a seductive tone, his eyelids lowering as he stared down Kaito's lips. His tongue darted out to flicker against his own, hungrily. "Join me," he said again, his hot breath fluttering against Kaito's lips causing a shiver to go up his spine. Despite being held in his arms, Kokichi managed to tug on Kaito's gown so hard that he stumbled into the bathroom door.

"K-Kokichi!" Kaito stammered as the boy immediately turned around in his arms, shutting the door behind them. For some reason, fear or surprise or excitement?- his heart was rapidly pounding in his chest, and he could feel his face turn a bright red. "I-I-"

"Relax, Kaito, I'm not going to do anything to you," Kokichi mumbled as he locked the door. He turned back to face Kaito, all air of seduction immediately dropped. "You can put me down now."

Kaito blinked, positively bewildered, but listened, setting Kokichi down on the closed toilet lid. The redness in his face and the frantic thunder in his chest had yet to subside. Despite this, Kokichi continued to explain.

"I just needed a convincing way to get us both in the bathroom and, well, let's face it. That might be the best way."

"B-But why did you need a convincing way to get us in the bathroom?!"

Instead of answering, Kokichi suddenly looked around at their surroundings. His eyes scoured the tiny bathroom, deeply concentrated, looking for something. After a solid minute, Kokichi released a breath, seemingly not finding what he's looking for. "Well, I'm glad, but still kinda surprised they were that decent," Kokichi mumbled to himself. Finally, he looked back at Kaito, who was still standing above him, looking incredulous.

"I had to get away from the security cameras, genius," Kokichi explained as if he hadn't gone silent for a full minute. "You wanted in on the plan, didn't you?"

"U-Uh, yeah!" Kaito suddenly perked up, though was still wildly confused. "Hell yes I do!"

"Okay, okay, keep it in your pants," Kokichi said, sounding unenthusiastic, but a proud smirk betrayed him. "I don't have everything entirely figured out yet. But I do have some...pretty outlandish theories I need proven. I can't tell you all the details yet, but I can get you started. However, there's a couple caveats."

"Sure, lay 'em on me!"

Kokichi's smirk only grew at Kaito's enthusiasm. "First, you can't speak about any part of the plan when we're outside the bathroom. It looks like every single area in this hospital is littered with cameras." Kaito nodded, so Kokichi continued. "Second, you can't tell anyone else about the plan, unless they're approved on by me. And spoiler alert: no one but Miu is."

"Miu?" Kaito looked surprised.

"Third, you can't back out on me." Kokichi shot Kaito a serious look, the kind of look he hadn't seen since the hangar. The kind that said 'I'm being uncharacteristically trusting with this, don't you dare betray me'. Kaito's shoulders rolled back, and his face hardened. I've seen what you're capable of, Kokichi, he thought. I'm not going to betray you now.

"I understand," he said, like a soldier to his commander. Kokichi's serious expression softened into a smirk, looking somewhat proud of Kaito.

"Good. Then let's get down to business. First, you gotta get Miu to go to Korekiyo's room."

Chapter Text

When they eventually emerged from the bathroom, Kokichi perched on Kaito's back, a nurse was waiting outside the bathroom, arms crossed. Kaito froze in his tracks.

"And what exactly where we doing in there?" she asked with a glare. Kaito was tense, but Kokichi gave him a surprisingly comforting pat on the shoulder.

"We were making out."

Kaito sputtered, about to deny Kokichi's accusation, but he stopped himself. Honestly, who cares if the hospital staff thinks they were making out? Kaito doesn't give a shit what they think. If it'll piss them off, he actually hopes they believe it.

The nurse didn't seem to though, her eyes merely narrowing. Kokichi sighed.

"Do I look like I'm in any shape to go to the bathroom by myself?" Kokichi motioned down to his body, looking convincingly annoyed. "And with my nurses mysteriously gone A.W.O.L., Kaito was selfless enough to help me himself."

"Very well, but you should really stop moving around so much," the nurse said. "It's best for you if you just rest."

"Right, I'll get right on that. Forward, noble steed!" Kokichi cheered, and Kaito sighed, walking him back to his bed and laying him down carefully.

"I got 'im," Kaito grumbled to the nurse. "He's not getting up again, I'll make sure of it."

The nurse hummed, giving him an unconvinced look, but still leaving. Once the door closed behind her, Kokichi flashed a grin.

"Great job, minion!"

"I wasn't kidding. Lay the fuck down," Kaito said, easing Kokichi's back down onto the bed. Kokichi looked extremely upset, but as soon as his head hit the pillow, he relaxed slightly.

"I've been laying down for weeks! I'm restless!"

"You've done enough," Kaito sighed, shifting so he could sit on the edge of the bed. "Look at you. You need to rest."

Kokichi's face shifted into a glare, but Kaito wouldn't budge. Thanks to his disappearing act, not to mention the stupid attempt to stand up, Kaito could see the exhausted tremble in Kokichi's atrophied limbs. Bags hung under the kids eyes, and he couldn't hide the slightly-panting speed he was breathing at. Not to mention, that black eye was still getting darker, and more swollen. Kokichi was a hot mess.

"I'm with you, kid," Kaito mumbled softly, and Kokichi's glare softened slightly. "That hasn't changed. But if I'm going to be with you 'till the end, I'm not going to let you run yourself ragged."

Kokichi's glared wavered into something more confused, and then he covered it with a smile, though it was more subdued, tired. "That...sounded like a love confession, Kaito," he chuckled, his eyelids starting to flutter. It seemed the mere act of laying him down was already starting to knock the poor kid out. Even if he had passed out earlier, that did not count as resting. "'m not sleepy," he murmured, even as his eyes started to lose focus.

"Sure, you're not," Kaito chuckled. "But it's already getting late, so you might as well get some rest. That way, you can wake up nice and early to terrorize the whole hospital."

"Hm, that does sound nice," Kokichi smiled. "But Supreme Leaders actually don't need to sleep at all. We run on solar energy."

"Sleep, you little dickhead."

"Nuh-uh..." Kokichi's voice started to fade as his eyelids closed completely, a faint smile still pulling at his lips. "You're the big dickhead."

"Sure," Kaito smiled a bit as Kokichi's breath slowed, and his eyelids stopped fluttering. When he was finally asleep, Kaito reached out and carded a hand through Kokichi's knotty hair. He brushed it out with his fingers, careful not to wake him up. "Reckless little bastard."

After having found Kokichi passed out in Korekiyo's room, Kaede and Rantaro didn't stick around. Kaito had taken Kokichi back to his room, and Ryoma, for some reason had, followed. Kaede had patted Kaito's arm, signaling that she was splitting away, and Rantaro just followed.

Together, they ate a meal in near silence, and took another walk around the hospital. The whole time, Rantaro was pretty spacey. There were at least three times were his brain "glitched out", forgetting where they were. When he came back, all he could remember was the sight of Kokichi, standing in Korekiyo's room, of all places. Kaito seemed to figure out pretty quickly that was where he went, though Rantaro had no clue how or why.

He shivered, remembering Kaito's shout when he opened the door. Rantaro had peeked in just in time to watch Kokichi fall, slamming his head on the way down. The aggressive, terrifyingly loud sound played over and over in his mind. He was so focused on Kokichi's crumpled-up body on the ground that he had barely noticed Korekiyo. Now that he thought about it, Korekiyo had been sitting on the bed, turned to face Kokichi.

He had also yelled in worry when Kokichi had fallen.

"That was pretty awful," were the first words out of Kaede's mouth after a while. Rantaro was almost surprised to hear the sound of her weak voice, startling him out of his thoughts, replaying the situation over and over.

"What, Kokichi passing out? Yeah. Not sure what he was thinking there."

"I wish he would stop making everyone worry," Kaede sighed, leaning against the wall with exhaustion. Her voice still crackled as she spoke, and she winced in pain. "Kaito's gonna have a heart attack at this rate."

Rantaro chuckled, leaning beside her with his arms crossed. "That's just how Kokichi is."

Kaede glanced up at him. "You sure you don't want to check on him?"

"Nah," Rantaro smiled. "When I saw Kokichi earlier, he still seemed pretty mad at me." Their fight from days ago was still clearly lingering between them, a tension that was pulling Kokichi further and further away. Rantaro liked the kid. He didn't want to make things worse. Kokichi was the kind of guy that needed space. And besides, he had Kaito at his side now.

"Who cares about that?" Kaede scoffed, frowning. The scoff clearly irritated her throat though, as she flinched and raised one hand to gently rub at her neck. "You told him what he needed to hear. It's not your fault he's..."

"A brat?" Rantaro smiled, as if the insult were an endearing moniker.

"Yeah!" Kaede threw her hands up in the air before grabbing Rantaro by the wrist. "C'mon, I'm not going to watch you sit around and mope-"

"I'm not moping!"

"-because Kokichi got a little snippy towards you! He's like that with everyone. Well, I'm not gonna let him play this game," Kaede growled, pulling Rantaro to Kokichi's door.

"I'm coming, can you please just give your voice a rest?" Rantaro begged as he got pulled down the hallway.

"I will once you man up and talk to him," Kaede answered, as stubborn as ever. Though her voice was weakened, her body certainly wasn't, and Rantaro felt the full extent of that as she yanked his wrist and thrust him towards the door. She let him go and crossed her arms. Rantaro looked down at the doorknob, but didn't move. After giving him a second, Kaede sighed, rolling her eyes. Then, she stepped forward and threw the door open herself.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she halted in the doorway. Concerned, worst case scenarios already running through his mind, Rantaro stepped beside her to look inside.

He froze in the door once his eyes settled on what Kaede was staring at. His lips quirked up into an awed smile.

"Well."

Kokichi and Kaito were both fast asleep on the hospital bed. Kokichi was laying flat on his back , in the middle of the bed, his head rolled slightly to the left. In true Kokichi fashion, asleep seemed to be his most peaceful state, his face completely relaxed. Kaito, despite being much bigger, had squished into the side of the bed, at risk of rolling right off thanks to Kokichi. He was laying on his side, one arm thrown sloppily above his head, the other resting over his own stomach. His body curled in slightly to fit, facing Kokichi in a strange, almost protective nature.

"Well," Kaede agreed. Her shoulders shook, as if she were actively holding back chuckles. "Guess that talk will have to wait."

"That's okay," Rantaro sighed. "Even if he got mad at me, it seems like he's actually doing what I asked him to."

"Yeah?" Kaede looked up at Rantaro, but he kept his eyes on his slumbering friends. A soft snore escaped Kaito, and the two of them almost broke out laughing.

"Come on," Rantaro said contently, putting one hand on Kaede's shoulder to steer her out of the room. "I have a feeling both of them really need their sleep."

Back in the hangar, where he always somehow ended up. He was already carrying Kokichi to the flat metal coffin. The boy was shivering in his arms, the hospital gown not providing much in way of warmth. Neither said a word, as this was not the first nor last time they did this together. Kaito bent down to gently lay Kokichi down on the bed. There was a white, not-soft hospital pillow beneath his head.

"Will it work...this time...?" Kokichi asked, smiling weakly towards the top of the press. "If I die...will we finally...be free...?"

Kaito opened his mouth to say yes, but nothing came out.

"This game...that forces us to kill...will it finally end?"

Yes, Kaito wanted to say. We can do it!

"How many times...will I have to die...?" Kokichi asked, his eyes finally drifting towards Kaito, still wearing that weak smile. It was genuine, so genuine, more than any expression on Kokichi had ever been. He was relieved to die, if that meant the end of this...Danganronpa.

Kaito froze, his mouth ajar. Something in him unlocked, and he could finally speak again. "I don't want to do this," he choked out, and he realized tears were streaming down his face. His breath came out shakily, just like Kokichi's, but his was wracking with sobs. "I don't want to kill you again, 'Kichi. I can't."

Kokichi, rather than get angry, simply closed his eyes. "But you will." No, that was wrong. Kokichi was supposed to get angry.

"N-No, I-!"

"You can't take back what you've done," Kokichi said, eyes still closed. "You killed me, plain and simple. You do it once, you can do it again." He was too calm. Too ready. He was supposed to be mad.

"No!" Kaito snapped, thrusting his fist down-

-and hitting the button he didn't realize was under him the whole time.

Kokichi smiled. "Don't fail me."

The press came rushing down, and crushed Kokichi to dust. To dust, to gore, to blood, to nothing. Kaito stumbled back as he was hit with a horrible wave of pink. Human flesh clung to his hair, bits of brain got caught in his agape mouth. He fell to the floor, coughing up the blood and gore, coughing up Kokichi, it was Kokichi, dead again, and again and again and again and

Kaito flung himself upwards, gasping so harshly that saliva got caught in his throat. Maybe it was just saliva, but it felt like blood, it felt like human gore, like the near-liquified remains of the corpse he just obliterated got into his mouth and was sinking into his lungs and-

He choked, hacked, and immediately rolled over, doubling over and grabbing the garbage can off the ground. Sitting with his legs dangling off the side of the bed, Kaito threw up loudly.

Kokichi flinched awake at the sound. "Kaito," he whined, moving to try and help, but his stupid, useless body barely twitched. "Kaito-"

"I'm okay," Kaito choked out, spitting into the trashcan. It sounded like he was done throwing up, but he stayed doubled over, hugging the trashcan to himself and shaking so hard the bed rattled. Kokichi, with a great deal of effort, pushed down on the bed and sat himself up. He immediately leaned over and let his head drop to rest on Kaito's back, both as a comforting gesture and to rest from the physical exertion. Kaito stiffened a bit, but didn't move.

Resting his forehead in between Kaito's shoulder blades, he could feel the tremors still wracking his body. Kokichi let his eyes flutter closed. From this angle, it's not like he could see Kaito's face anyway.

"Are you feeling ill?"

"Huh? O-Oh, no..." Kaito mumbled. "Just a..."

When Kaito wouldn't continue, Kokichi took another guess. "A bad dream?"

The shudder that rippled through Kaito's spine was answer enough. "Sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing? Did you plan on having a nightmare just to wake me up from my nap? That's a level of evil that I don't think you've reached, minion."

Kaito's shoulders shook as he let out an unconvincing chuckle.

"You seem like the kinda guy that likes to talk about himself. You wanna talk about it?" Kokichi asked, hesitantly. Kaito blinked in surprise.

"Not really."

Kokichi hummed, an 'I figured' kind of sound. "Was it about smushing me?"

Kaito flinched, violently, nearly knocking Kokichi off-balance. "Please don't say that."

Kokichi wanted to giggle, to give a falsely-innocent smile, but instead, his face went serious. "Sorry. Too soon."

Kaito said nothing, still trembling, face buried in the trashcan. Kokichi grunted, trying to sit up straight.

"I'm alive, Kaito."

Silence, but another flinch.

"Against my best efforts," Kokichi added with a smirk. "And yours, might I add."

"S-Stop being an ass..."

"Nah," Kokichi cocked his head, even though he knew Kaito wasn't looking at him. "Being an ass is the only way to get something through your thick skull. It's what I've learned while working together with you."

Kaito sighed, shakily and very, very weak.

"I'm alive," Kokichi said again, without an ounce of irony. "And so are you. So would you look at me?"

Kaito's shoulders tensed. Then, slowly, he sat up, unfurling from his position over the trashcan. And, slower still, he started to look over his shoulder.

As soon as Kaito's eyes fell on Kokichi, he smiled brightly. "See? Still kickin'."

Kaito sighed again, his breath shuddering in his chest. He stared at Kokichi, eyes wide, positively enthralled by Kokichi's living, breathing form.

"Well, not kicking," Kokichi amended lightheartedly. "But you get what I mean."

Kaito released a sound that sounded almost like a chuckle, relieved and maybe even amused. "Yeah. I get what you mean."

Kokichi smiled, though the smile slipped into a surprised look as Kaito raised a hand. His head bowed as Kaito patted the top of Kokichi's hair. "H-Hey, what are you going around petting me for? I'm not one of your sidekicks!"

"Shut up, man," Kaito chuckled, more sure this time, ruffling Kokichi's hair. "Let me have this."

Kokichi's mouth twisted into an unhappy expression, but for what it's worth, he didn't bat his hand away. "You're so touchy-feely, Kait-oh-"

He tensed as Kaito suddenly fell forward, wrapping Kokichi in a hug. His head hung over his shoulder, clutching Kokichi tightly to his chest.

"What I said still stands," Kokichi said in a somewhat strained voice. He fell quiet, however, when he realized he could feel the still-frightened tremors throughout Kaito's body. Kokichi sighed, relaxing into the hug somewhat. He didn't hug back, but he didn't push away, either. Besides, it was nice to relax his body a bit, and have someone else hold him up. And it was warm. Unfamiliar, but not...horrible.

He didn't have any memories of anyone hugging him during the simulation, or before. He wasn't sure if he's ever been hugged, aside from Kaito, after he woke up.

He let him stay there until Kaito was finally convinced Kokichi was whole, alive.

The next morning, Shuichi sat at a cafeteria table, across from a waiting Miu. He shifted anxiously, wringing his hands together. Miu just stared, unimpressed.

"I don't know what else to tell you," Shuichi finally admitted. "I've been trying to get answers out from Kiibo, and apparently so have you. The only thing he seems to do is sew seeds of...doubt," Shuichi shrugged, shaking his head a little. "Misreading situations from the killing game and trying to cause fights. I don't know what it is, but it sure doesn't feel like therapy."

Miu hummed, propping her elbow up on the table and leaning her cheek into the palm of her hand. If it weren't for her throat, she wouldn't have been so quiet.

"I'm sorry," Shuichi sighed, earnestly. "I know how much you must want him back. But I've talked to him every day since I woke up. I have no reason to believe that this Kiibo is our friend from the game. He is an AI designed to question us and get under our skin. Maybe it's to get a read on our emotional state to report back to the Danganronpa team, but I have no evidence."

Miu frowned, her eyes drifting down to the table. She was clearly disappointed.

"B-But-" Shuichi tried. "If anyone can bring him back, it's you, Miu. You were his closest friend."

At that, a ghost of a smile traced Miu's lips. A silence fell between the two of them, and Shuichi suddenly felt awkward again. He had nothing else to say on the Kiibo matter, at least for now, so what else could he do?

"Shuichi?"

Shuichi perked up in surprise, turning to find none other but Angie standing above him. Her hands were clasped together, and she smiled as brightly as she could down at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. It never did, anymore.

"Angie? What's up?"

"I was wondering if I could borrow a moment of your time," Angie cocked her head, tucking her hands under her chin innocently. "In fact, I would like to hire you."

"Hire me?" Shuichi's eyebrows furrowed, and he glanced over at Miu, who only offered a helpless shrug.

"Yes, hire. I'm afraid I cannot pay upfront, but once Danganronpa gives us the money for the game-"

"Hold on, hold on," Shuichi raised a hand, stopping Angie. "First off, you don't have to pay me to do anything for you, Angie. Second, I can try to help however I can but...I'm not a real detective."

"Don't be silly!" Angie giggled nonchalantly. "Of course you are! You still remember being the Ultimate Detective, right?"

"W-Well, sure, but-"

"Then that makes you real enough in my book," Angie points a finger at Shuichi. "And I need your help."

Shuichi wanted to argue that he really wasn't a detective, but, well, he did still want to help. "Okay, well then why don't you tell me what exactly it is you need help with?"

"I'm sure you heard about the incident with Kokichi, and how he unlocked Korekiyo's room."

Shuichi's heart stopped in his chest, and his eyes widened. He could tell Miu was startled too, her arm slipping off the table. Angie was clearly keeping her smile plastered on through sheer will, a dark look crossing her eyes. "W-Where are you going with this, Angie?"

"I want to hire you to help me face Korekiyo," Angie cocked her head even further. "I want to go meet with him."

Miu scoffed, and Shuichi couldn't help but agree. "Angie, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, do you really want to face him, so soon after the game?"

"Do you expect me to just wait around, while his room is unlocked?" Angie asked. "What if he hasn't changed? It's for the good of the group to make certain. And who better to help me than the Ultimate Detective?"

Shuichi fell silent, and Angie's smile wavered. He glanced over his shoulder at Miu, who only gave him another helpless look. He wasn't sure what he expected her to do, anyway. "Okay, Angie," he turned back to the artist, whose smile suddenly flickered back on, as if it had been disappearing when he wasn't looking. "I want to help you. I want to help everyone get through this Danganronpa business, as much as possible. But maybe it's best if I do some investigating before you go to meet him. Do you think that would be alright? I just don't want to put you in any sort of stressful situation before I know how to best handle it."

Angie laughed, clapping her hands together. "As expected, you're very astute! Okay, Shuichi, I'll let you investigate. But you have to pinky promise that you will let me see Korekiyo, once it's safe." Angie leaned down, presenting her pinky finger. She was smiling innocently enough, but Shuichi had a strong feeling that Angie held pinky promises to a deadly-serious degree. Still, he extended his own pinky and wrapped it around hers.

"I promise, Angie. I'll get started right away."

Satisfied, Angie skipped away, humming a tuneless song to herself. Shuichi turned back around on the bench, coming face to face with Miu once more. She was giving him an unimpressed look.

"That seemed like a load," Miu mumbled hoarsely.

"I get where she's coming from," Shuichi fiddled with his fingers nervously. "I think it's important to her to face the person who killed her. But I really have no idea what kind of state Korekiyo's in, and I don't want to cause any stress that could hinder either of their recoveries."

"Makes sense," Miu propped her chin back up in the palm of her hand. "So, whatcha gonna do first?"

Shuichi sighed. "First, I think I have to go talk to Kokichi."

When Shuichi worked up the nerve to visit Kokichi (Miu and Kaede at his side) he was not surprised to find Kaito in there as well, first thing in the morning. Rather than in his usual chair next to the bed, Kaito was actually sitting on the edge of the bed, fingers in Kokichi's hair.

"No, no, you're doing it all wrong!"

"Sorry, I've never had to braid hair before!" Kaito grumbled, untangling another knot in Kokichi's hair.

"I would do it myself, but woe is me, my hands don't work," Kokichi growled, earning a (very gentle) swat on the back of the head from Kaito.

"You should just cut it, if it's getting in your face this much."

"Right, you point me to the nearest pair of scissors that we are allowed to use, and I'll get right on that," Kokichi rolled his eyes.

"Ugh. Sorry about that, bro," Kaito turned back to Shuichi and the others with an exhausted sigh.

"I-It's fine..." Shuichi mumbled, wringing his hands together. He had not gotten any more confident in interacting with Kokichi since his last visit, and the little Supreme Leader could tell. Kokichi shot him an unimpressed look from his spot, sitting up in bed, body held up slightly by Kaito's perched knee. Shuichi wasn't sure when they went from rivals to besties, but he had a feeling that didn't concern him...

"So, what did you wanna ask me, Shumai?" Kokichi asked. He used to speak with such animated character and energy, but now he just sounded tired. Like he didn't want to bother with Shuichi at all. Shuichi wished it didn't bother him as much as it did.

"Well, I-I wanted to ask you about...Korekiyo," Shuichi said. Kaito looked up from his work in surprise, wide eyes on Shuichi. He glanced over at Kaede and Miu for confirmation, but both girls had no voice to provide an answer. Kokichi raised an eyebrow, but otherwise looked much less surprised.

"Mm. You heard about that?"

"Everyone heard about that," Kaito deadpanned.

"What do you want to know?" Kokichi asked, purposefully ignoring Kaito. "His star sign? His blood type? Just because I paid him a visit doesn't mean I know him any better than you do." Kokichi cocked his head, smiling innocently, but the malice behind it shone through, clear as day. "It just makes me nicer than you."

"'Kichi..." Kaito hissed warningly.

"No, Kaito, it's fine," Shuichi rubbed his arm. "It's not like he's wrong. But Kokichi, I just wanted to ask you...how is he doing?"

Kokichi narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why do you care, detective?"

Shuichi opened his mouth to respond, but surprisingly enough, Miu spoke up. "Quit being an asshole, shrimp dick."

Kokichi's eyes shot over to Miu. He looked very unhappy, but didn't respond for a second. The room waited in silence as Miu and Kokichi had some sort of non-verbal communication in their stare-off. After a second, Kokichi turned back to Shuichi.

"Bedridden, like the best of us. He's all burnt up from the simulation, it royally fucked his skin up. The nurses aren't all that great about helping him, either. Apparently no one thought to mention to him that the game was a simulation."

"What?" Kaito breathed, his hands slowly lowering to his lap. "He...didn't know it was virtual?"

"Nope," Kokichi casually shrugged as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb on them. "Completely out of the loop. Don't worry, I filled him in on the details."

"I-If he didn't know..." Shuichi pondered cautiously. "Then...what did he think was going on?"

Kokichi shot Shuichi an unreadable look, and then shrugged. "To be honest, I don't think he was all there. He couldn't have a concrete theory on what was going on, because he was too busy trying to unravel all that," he tapped his temple, indicating his brain.

"The poor guy," Kaito sighed.

"Oh, really?" Kokichi looked over his shoulder at Kaito. "Feeling sympathy for the serial killer?"

Kaito's eyes widened, and his back tensed defensively. "Well- I-"

"Kokichi," Shuichi spoke up, more stubborn this time. "Is he the serial killer they wrote him to be?"

Kokichi looked at Shuichi, then at the girls. "Are any of us what they wrote us to be?"

"Damn it, Kokichi," Kaito grumbled. "Can't you give the guy a straight answer?"

"Not 'till I know what he wants with this info," Kokichi leveled Shuichi with an unimpressed look, one that read 'I don't know what you're up to, but I don't trust you'.

"I'm just trying to help everyone, Kokichi," Shuichi said earnestly. "I really do just have everyone's best interests in heart."

"Not specific enough, Shumai," Kokichi leaned back into Kaito a little, who in turn leaned forward to support him sitting up. "I want to know, literally, what you are planning to do with Korekiyo."

"I-I'm not planning anything!" Shuichi exclaimed. "I'm not you! I don't have some mysterious, grand plot! I'm figuring this out as I go along, okay?! I'm just...just gathering info until I can decide for myself what to do. All I want to know is if it's safe for people to visit Korekiyo. If it's safe for Angie to visit Korekiyo. Nothing more."

Kokichi blinked. Then, he smiled. "Well," he drawled out. "How can I say no to a passionate speech like that? Alright, Shumai. I'll tell you this much. It's safe for you to visit Korekiyo. I think the detective should see for himself if it's okay for Angie. My visit was short, and we never got to the topic of murder," Kokichi smiled slyly. "But in exchange for this info, you need to do me a favor. You need to take Miu with you."

"W-What?! Me?" Miu exclaimed, her voice crackling. Kaede rubbed her arm.

"Are you sure it's safe for a girl to visit?" Kaede spoke up finally, voice just as hoarse as Miu's. "Didn't he specifically target girls?"

"He targeted nice girls, ones he deemed worthy of being friends with his sister," Kokichi smirked, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Miu will be just fine."

"You little-" Miu growled.

"Why do you want Miu to come with me?" Shuichi asked. Kokichi smiled.

"That's my little secret, Shumai."

Shuichi blinked at him. Then, he glanced over his shoulder at Miu. "Well? Are you okay with that, Miu?"

"Yeah, whatever," Miu planted her hands on her hips, giving Kokichi an unimpressed look. "I have a feeling I'm going to want to be there, anyway."

Kokichi smiled at that, and Shuichi and Kaede's heads swiveled back and forth between him and Miu. Kokichi must expect something of Miu, and if Shuichi was reading the situation right, Miu was willing to be a part of it.

"I'm getting a little tired of everyone speaking in riddles," Kaede sighed, rubbing her neck. "But I'm not here to judge." She put a hand on Shuichi's shoulder with an uncertain smile. "I'm here to support you."

Shuichi looked at her, a smile of his own tugging at his lips. "Well, then, I guess I know where we need to go next."

"Have fun!" Kokichi cheered. "Bring me back a souvenir! Preferably something sharp, to stab Kaito in his sleep!"

"Hey! Brat!" Kaito karate-chopped the top of Kokichi's head, but the boy only snickered. Shuichi brought a hand up to his mouth. A souvenir, huh?

Chapter Text

Shuichi lead the charge towards Korekiyo's room, followed closely by Kaede and a nervous-looking Miu. Kaede shot a look in her direction and raised her hands.

Are you okay? she asked in slow, sloppy sign language. Miu smiled at the attempt, and tried her best to respond, but all she needed to do was wave her hand a little.

Eh.

Kirumi, among many things she "learned" while "being a maid", had been trained in Japanese Sign Language. She had been teaching Kaede quite a bit in order to help her communicate, and Miu joined some of those lessons after she had woken up, as well. Neither of them were fluent, but Kaede was grateful to have someone to practice with.

Are you...scared? Kaede asked after pausing to remember the sign for "scared". Miu shot her a wide-eyed look, and that was all the answer she needed. Kaede wrapped her arm around Miu's, tugging the girl closer to her side. Miu yelped a bit at the gesture, now walking arm-in-arm with Kaede. The former pianist merely smiled, in a way that said I'm here with you.

The three turned into the hallway where Korekiyo's room waited. The door was closed, but still unlocked, if the fact that Kokichi still had the keys were anything to go by. Shuichi took a deep breath and turns towards the girls.

"You don't have to follow if you don't want to," he told the both of them.

"Nah," Miu's voice gargled. "I promised the shrimp."

Kaede just held onto Miu's arm tighter, in a protective gesture. Her glare read just try and stop me. Shuichi smiled uncertainly, and turned back around, taking another breath.

"Here we go," he mumbled, mostly to himself, reaching out and opening the door.

Korekiyo was sitting on a bed, startled by the door opening. Kokichi had been right, he was covered in burns and bandages. Korekiyo's wide eyes watched in shock as Shuichi, followed by Miu and Kaede, entered his room.

"This is certainly a surprising turn of events," Korekiyo said. His voice was as smooth as it had been in the simulation, calm and observant. An unopinionated observer and narrator. "First Kokichi, and now you."

"Korekiyo," Shuichi cleared his throat. "It's good to see you." It was hardly a convincing statement, judging by the way he nervously wrung his hands in front of his chest, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"...You as well," Korekiyo said, clearly not believing him. "If you wish to enter, please feel free."

Shuichi noticed that he was, in fact, still standing in the doorway. He scurried a little further into the room, finally allowing Kaede and Miu access. Korekiyo's eyes landed on Kaede.

"It is a relief to see you alive, Kaede," he said, with no hint of malice. Shuichi looked over his shoulder to see Kaede's reaction. The girl smiled, but was still clearly apprehensive about approaching the supposed serial killer. When he realized she wasn't going to say anything, Shuichi turned back around.

"Um, she can't speak," Shuichi explained quickly to Korekiyo before he found her silence rude. "Neither can Miu, actually. The simulation affected their vocal chords."

Korekiyo hummed, his eyes passing over the two girls. "I am sorry to hear that. It seems the...simulation may have been harmful for us all."

"Right," Shuichi mumbled, picking at his fingernail.

"Is there a reason for your visit, Shuichi?" Korekiyo asked, straight to the point now that the pleasantries were out of the way.

"I really just wanted to see how you were doing," Shuichi explained earnestly. "The doctors haven't been allowing anyone to see you. And Kokichi told me that you just found out about the whole...simulation, thing."

"Yes, I am still wrapping my mind around that," Korekiyo chuckled warmly. "It certainly was a turn I wasn't expecting, though not an unwelcome one. I can't say I was rather fond of...myself, in the simulation. It is good to know the reason behind this...disgusted feeling I have with myself," Korekiyo raised a hand to his chest, before lowering it back to his lap. "I apologize, I don't mean to ramble about myself."

"No, no, it's okay," Shuichi insisted, walking a little closer to Korekiyo's bed. That's when he noticed that his hands were bandaged so thickly, it was like he was wearing mittens. "I don't think any of us woke up fond of our characters they made us to be."

"Of course," Korekiyo's voice fell into somewhat of a whisper. "Well, when Kokichi visited my room, he gave me a rather detailed report on the killing game and the situation after, so I do feel somewhat caught-up."

"That's good. But I can't believe no one from Team Danganronpa told you what was going on. Why would they do that?" Shuichi asked, mostly to himself.

"I couldn't tell you. I imagine they were just none too fond of my character, and decided to discard me in this room for eternity."

Shuichi winced. "You really think that?"

"Considering Kokichi was the first person to bother with cleaning and changing my bandages for weeks, I would assume so, yes," Korekiyo said, with no malice towards the nurses. Shuichi and Kaede's eyes widened.

"He...did that?"

"Yes, and it is appreciated. I am a bit more comfortable now, than before," Korekiyo rubbed a bandaged hand down his arm, his fingers wrapped like mittens. "He certainly came in here with ulterior motives, I know he had no use to visit me, but..." Korekiyo trailed off, uncharacteristically left with no words. "He didn't have to help someone like me. I only hope I can return the favor. So, if you are looking for what Kokichi was after, it's up there," Korekiyo suddenly raised his voice. Shuichi jumped and looked to the side to see Miu rummaging through the medical equipment. She stiffened, caught. Korekiyo looked over at her, before nodding up at a cabinet. "He had been trying to reach that cabinet when he fainted."

Miu looked up at the cabinet and shrugged. Shuichi's eyebrows furrowed when he realized that it hadn't been locked at all. Surely Kokichi had noticed that right away, and was trying to get to the bottom of it.

"How is he, by the way?" Korekiyo asked as Miu reached up for the cabinet. "That was a pretty nasty fall he took."

"He's awake. He's got a black eye, but I think he's otherwise okay."

"That's good. I'm...happy to hear he is somewhat unharmed."

Korekiyo had been nothing like Shuichi expected. Though, he supposed he should have anticipated that, by Kokichi's account. Korekiyo is definitely suffering physically from his execution, but moreso, there seemed to be an underlying emotional suffering, once he was trying not to reveal to anyone. Shuichi's keen eye picked up on the signs, the uncharacteristic disinterest. The self-deprecating, even self-hating comments that plagued the conversation. The bandages around his hands, keeping him from hurting himself. Everyone was suffering after the killing game, but this...

Shuichi felt a pang of guilt. No one had even tried to check on Korekiyo.

No one but Kokichi.

Miu made a startled sound, dropping a couple things out of the cabinet. Shuichi turned back to her, and saw Kaede starting to clean the mess, while Miu simply stared at a tool in her hand. It was small, and shaped like a screwdriver, with a flat metal tip. She glanced over her shoulder at Shuichi, and shrugged.

"Well," Shuichi said. "He did say he wanted a souvenir."

Meanwhile

"Okay, well I guess that's taken care of," Kaito mumbled as soon as the door closed behind Shuichi and the others. "Though you can be a bit nicer to Shuichi."

"That's asking a lot, minion," Kokichi hummed as Kaito resumed his attempt at braiding hair. "I'm not a very nice person, to begin with."

"You're a brat, but you can be nice," Kaito murmured, almost as if he didn't want Kokichi to hear. Kokichi smiled.

"You know, Kaito, you might want to stop saying such nice things about me, even behind closed doors," he said. "People might start to get the wrong idea. They might start to ship us."

"Wrong idea? Ship?" Kaito leaned back, releasing Kokichi's hair to try and look at his face. "What on Earth are you talking about?"

Kokichi smiled cheekily up at the security camera in the corner of the room, above the door. "Oh, nothing."

Kaito sighed, tying off Kokichi's little braid. "Oh, 'Kich..."

"Oh, Kaito," Kokichi shot a cheeky smile over his shoulder, looking up at Kaito with such an earnest look of impish joy that Kaito froze. Kokichi noticed, and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Kaito blinked down at the boy, hair tied messily out of his face now. He was...relaxed. Smiling, genuinely. Kokichi's eyebrows usually carried a dark tension with them, but today they were turned up and relaxed. His smile wasn't a perfectly-crafted mask to fool the watcher. It stemmed from genuine joy- joy from being a little shit, sure, but still. He looked...happy. When was the last time Kaito had seen Kokichi look this open, this free?

Had he ever seen him this free?

"...What?" Kokichi asked, more hesitantly. Kaito noticed that his own face had melted into a heart-warmed smile. He reached up to muss the top of Kokichi's head, hoping to play off the dopey smile casually.

"Nothing. Just admiring my handiwork."

"Knock it off," Kokichi shrugged him away playfully. "You made a half-decent braid, don't go acting like you became the Ultimate Hairdresser."

"I am a man of many talents. Why can't hair be one of them?" Kaito asked with a mischievous tug on Kokichi's braid. The boy gaped at him in mock surprise.

"Pulling hair, Kaito? Little boys only do that to girls they have crushes on, you know."

"Knock it off, you little brat," Kaito suddenly lunged for Kokichi, grabbing him in a tight hug and pulling him back against his chest. Kokichi thrashed in his grasp as Kaito half-wrestled, half-hugged him.

"K-Kaito!" Kokichi's laugh bubbled up against Kaito's chest as he tried to fight back. Kaito merely smirked.

Even while preoccupied with wrestling Kokichi into a hug, Kaito's mind subconsciously tuned into the television, which was playing their season of Danganronpa. Of course it was. Kaito was well aware that Kokichi had it on constantly in the background. At this point, it was muted, though Kaito knew that was because Kokichi had it damn near memorized. Kaito himself had never watched the whole thing. Never saw a reason to, he was alive for most of it, and he watched the end after his death. Why return and open old wounds?

So, when he saw Kokichi on screen, covered in blood, he covered his mouth.

"What the fuck."

Kokichi turned around and sighed, seeing himself lying on the ground, blood leaking from his forehead. "Oh don't be a baby, I was fine," he waved his hand dismissively towards the screen, finally pushing himself out of Kaito's grasp successfully.

Kaito lunged for the remote, unmuting the show. He listened as Kokichi shakily passed off the head wound as a prank to Maki and Shuichi. He watched as Kokichi stumbled away from his sideki- his friends, damn it.

"Kaito, it's not a big deal," Kokichi weakly reached for the remote, but Kaito only held it above his head. "C'mon, it's not like you didn't know about this part!"

"But I've never seen it. All that blood, that was real?" he looked down in Kokichi in horror. Kokichi just smiled tiredly.

"If I say that it was fake, will you drop it?"

"No!" Kaito exclaimed, pausing the tv and turning to face Kokichi. "I-I can't believe you tried to pass that off as a prank! You were seriously hurt!"

"I was fine!"

"You needed help!"

"From who? You?" Kokichi scoffed, looking positively amused by the idea. "You may be obsessed with me now, Kaito, but you hated my guts, remember? You all did."

Kaito's face started to fall, and Kokichi's twisted into a snarl.

"Don't give me that look. I was making you guys hate me. I did it on purpose."

"Still..." Kaito sighed, eyes trailing down to the purple and blue bruise blossoming under his eye, lined with yellow and looking more painful by the second. He reached out, fingers gently brushing Kokichi's cheek. The boy froze beneath his touch, looking surprised and maybe a little disturbed as Kaito ran his thumb carefully across the bruise. "You're too reckless."

Kokichi sighed, recognizing that this conversation wasn't just about the concussion anymore. He grabbed Kaito's wrist, gently, and lowered it from his face. "This coming from Kaito Momota, reckless extraordinaire."

"Hey, that's not fair," Kaito grumbled, and Kokichi only laughed. "Um, speaking of reckless...today?"

Kokichi cocked his head with an innocent smile. "Today?"

Kaito cleared his throat. "What is your...plan for today? What are we doing?"

Kokichi's smile turned slimy and sly. "Same thing we do every day, Kaito. Try to take over the world."

Kaito's face contorted in confusion. The way Kokichi had recited that... "Is that some reference I'm not going to understand?"

"Yep! And it's also a lifestyle," Kokichi's dark smile brightened into his mischievous, impish one. Kaito scoffed, ruffling Kokichi's hair. "But to answer your question, Kaito, yes. Today."

That...really didn't answer his question. At all. In fact, all it did was give Kaito an ominous, looming sense of dread. But before he could bring up any more on the matter, the door was being kicked open by Miu. Kaito startled with a loud yelp, but Kokichi gave no reaction. Miu stormed in, planted a fist on her hip, and raised something in the air.

A...screwdriver?

For some reason, the smile that broke across Kokichi's face was...evil. "So, the detective didn't lose all his investigative abilities. Good to know."

"And what the hell were you planning on doing with a screwdriver?" Kaito asked.

Therapy, apparently. Before he knew it, Kaito was wheeling Kokichi back to the therapy room, Miu and the screwdriver in tow. Before they had left, Kokichi had insisted on Miu helping him go to the bathroom. After some indignant sputtering, Kokichi had managed to get her in there with him. Kaito was forced to wait outside, having no idea what they had talked about.

So, he was still clueless, even as he sat down in a chair besides Kokichi's parked wheelchair. Miu hovered back, somewhat uncomfortably, as Kiibo booted up.

"I'm glad you decided to return," Kiibo said earnestly from the screen. "Have you considered sharing about your experiences during the simulation? I can assure you, it is a great way to heal from the emotional strain of the killing game, and to move on with your life."

"Sure," Kokichi drawled, looking as chipper as ever. "I've decided it would be much more fun to share with you all the interesting parts of my time during the killing game."

"That's great!" Kiibo cheered, his icon brightening in excitement. "What would you like to discuss?"

"Well, I know you're super interested in me and Kaito's experience off-screen, in the hangar," Kokichi smiled. Kiibo seemed to perk up at that.

"Of course. It is essential for me to know what happened in order to assist you with healing."

"That makes total sense," Kokichi said. "Well, it all started when Maki stormed in and decided to kill me. Working with borrowed time, naturally I had to use to the Electrobomb then and there," Kokichi glanced over at Kaito, seemingly waiting for something.

"Naturally," he mumbled, as if this made total sense.

"So, I explain my whole situation to Kaito," Kokichi continues. "And he was pretty understanding!"

"Is that so?" Kiibo's icon turned towards Kaito.

"U-Uh, yeah..." Kaito wasn't sure what direction this was heading, and didn't want to say anything to throw it off.

"After that, it gets a bit dark, but I will try to keep it family friendly," Kokichi admitted. "My health was going down fast. By the time we completed all the other steps of my plan, I was damn near dead already."

Kaito grit his teeth. Why the hell was Kokichi second-handedly making him relive this?

"Kaito was laying me down on the press," he continued. "When we really started to...talk."

Kokichi, for all his bullshit, was a fantastic storyteller. Listening now, Kaito could feel himself be swept away in Kokichi's retelling of the events in the hangar. Kokichi spoke quietly, as if recounting a sweet secret to a good friend.

" Kokichi...is this really how it has to end?" Kaito asked, his voice rough, husky, overused and tired. Kokichi, despite the tremble rocking his body, smirked up at Kaito through one open eye.

"What's wrong, Hero?" Kokichi whispered, too tired to speak any louder than that. Even now, his voice held that teasing lilt to it. But it was something different now. Gentler. "Falling in love with the Villain?"

"It's not that," Kaito insisted, even as his hand grazed Kokichi's arm. His gaze travelled down Kokichi's prone body, his large hand wrapping around Kokichi's small one in a gentle grasp. "I still feel like I hardly know you. Until now...you never showed me your true face."

Kokichi's smirk softened into a smile. "Now you've seen it...what do you think?"

Heartbreak broke across Kaito's face. "If this is the real you, Kokichi...it's beautiful," he kept a grip on Kokichi's hand, using the other to gently tuck the hair in Kokichi's face behind his ear. "We could have been friends. Why did you hide?"

Kokichi coughed, smile still plastered on his face. "Maybe...in another life..." Kokichi's eyes fluttered shut, and this time, he didn't open them back up. "It's time, Kaito."

Even though he hated it, Kaito knew that Kokichi was right. He moved to stand, to walk away, to the device that would be the murder weapon of Kokichi Oma. But, then he stopped, looking back at Kokichi's face.

Then, hesitantly, Kaito leaned down, his lips reaching to Kokichi's.

WHAT?!

Hold on, hold on, none of the shit Kokichi had spouted just now was true. Nothing like that was even close to happening in the hangar. Why was Kokichi lying to Kiibo, and why with such a cheesy, romantic lie?! Kaito's mouth was wide open, like a fish. He could feel a burning flush spread across his face, threatening to climb down his neck, until his whole body was tomato-red. Even listening to this fiction, Kaito's heart was pounding, as if it were happening in real time.

Kiibo seemed very intrigued in the juicy details of their supposed kiss. "So you're telling me, when the cameras were off, you and Kaito actually kissed?"

"We did," Kokichi sighed, as if remembering a fond memory from long ago. "And now you know, the story of what happened in the hangar."

"Fascinating..."

"Do you think that's a good enough answer?" Kokichi suddenly tilted his head, an innocent smile crossing his features. "For the audience, I mean?"

Kaito went still. Kiibo went quiet. The computer in front of them abruptly stopped whirring noisily.

"What?" Kiibo asked.

"All that," Kokichi waved his hand. "Do you think the audience will enjoy that? It was a pretty juicy story, after all."

"I- I..." Kiibo went quiet, emotionless. Loading. Then, he was back to normal, smiling and bouncing in the screen. "Kokichi, I'm afraid what we have here is a classic case of projection. Going through the killing game, and finding out there was an audience, must have been so upsetting to you. Surely now you are paranoid about an audience still watching you, right? I assure you, Kokichi, there is no audience watching you anymore. You are safe."

Kokichi intertwined his fingers, smile still plastered on his face, eyes trained directly on Kiibo's avatar. The problem: computer programs have no tells. No little hints to know when they are lying. He had no proof that Kiibo was lying at all. But if there was one thing Kokichi was good at, it was bluffing.

"But...that's a lie, isn't it?" Kokichi murmured darkly, sparkling eyes going dim, eyebrows lowering to a less impressed expression. Kiibo was silent again, emotionless, but not betraying anything. Kokichi brightened back up, turning the shine in his smile to a hundred. "Wow, the audience must have been excited to hear that little catchphrase, huh? I'm giving you tons of great material!"

"Kokichi, I'm afraid I'm not understanding what you are trying to say," Kiibo said.

"Sorry, I forgot you've always been kind of dumb," Kokichi chuckled, leaning back in his wheelchair like a villain on a throne. "I'll spell it out for you. This is not therapy. This is a confessional. A televised one. And all these security cameras?" he casually, lazily pointed to the one in the corner, before moving his finger scratch at his nose. "I imagine they get great footage for your show, as well. Danganronpa is popular, right? So there must be the classic, post-series wrap up. Behind the scenes, where-are-they-now, confessionals, all that jazz. We never stopped being in show. We just woke up in a different one!" Kokichi grinned childishly. "Well, well? Did I get it right?"

Kiibo loaded. Then, he spoke. "Kokichi, I am glad you shared this with me. I now understand your hesitancy to share what truly happened in the simulation. But I must insist, there is no audience. It is just us listening, Kokichi."

"Okay, if you say so," Kokichi gave up surprisingly quick. Kaito looked at him in surprise, expecting more of a fight. Well, he wasn't going to get one. Kokichi said his piece. He played his card. He took the gamble, now all he can do is wait and see if it plays out. In the meantime: "Miu, if you would?"

Everyone's attention returned to Miu, who nearly everyone forgot was even in the room. She was leaning against the wall beside the door, having slid a large chair in front of it, tucking it under the knob and effectively locking them in here.

Kiibo's avatar managed to look surprised. "Miu?! What are you doing?"

Miu sighed, raising the screwdriver she had hidden behind her back. "Kidnapping you. Sorry about this, Kiibs."

Suddenly, she was across the room, taking the screwdriver and loosening the screws on the computer. Meanwhile on screen, Kiibo bounced nervously. "Hold on! What do you mean, kidnapping me?"

"Don't worry, it should be painless. You are just a computer program, after all," Kokichi smiled like a supervillain whose plan was unfolding before the hero's eyes. Miu removed the cover of the computer, revealing the inside. Kaito couldn't make hide or hair of it, but judging by Miu's strangled gasp, she had found what she was looking for.

"Wait!" Kiibo exclaimed as she reached out and touched the tip of her finger to a blue computer chip, plugged in near the top of the unit.

"There you are," she whispered, pushing the chip in.

"No!" Kiibo managed to shout before Miu ejected the chip from the computer. His face immediately warped away, leaving behind a blank screen. Miu wrapped her fist carefully around the computer chip, holding it to her chest and closing her eyes.

"You better be right about this, shrimp dick," she murmured, not even looking back at Kokichi. The little Supreme Leader merely smiled.

"Have I ever steered you wrong before?"

Kokichi had dropped a bombshell back there. When he was explaining his plan to Kaito in the bathroom, he stayed pretty vague about his "out-there theory" about the hospital. Kaito wasn't sure what to expect, but it wasn't that. And to just drop it so casually like that, then steal Kiibo's chip, and leave?! Kaito had been so shocked, he didn't even really get time to react. Before he knew it, he and Kokichi were heading back to the room. Kaito waited until he, Kokichi, and Miu were all in the room with the door closed and barricaded before spinning to face the boy in the wheelchair.

"Were you serious, back there?" Kaito was almost too scared to ask. "A show? For real?"

Kokichi hesitated for a moment, seemingly calculating the pros and cons of answering honestly. "For real," he responded, darkly serious. Miu cursed under her breath, turning away from the two of them and starting to pace the length of the room, panicked.

"We're still in Hell," Kaito murmured, intertwining his fingers into his hair frantically. "It never ends."

"It doesn't seem like it, no," Kokichi muttered in agreement.

"A-And Kiibo?!" Kaito asked, thrusting a hand out to the tiny computer chip in Miu's hands. "What are we supposed to do with him?!"

"Hold onto him, for a little while," Kokichi mused, obviously still deep in thought. He lifted his hand to pinch his chin. "If they wanted to stop us, they would have already."

"What?!"

"They let me have the keys," Kokichi commented. "They are presumably letting us take Kiibo. Why?"

"Why?" Kaito parroted.

"Entertainment," Kokichi raised a conspiratorial finger to the sky. "I exposed this shitty exposé for what it is. They should be scrambling for ideas by now. No one will want to watch this behind the scenes bullshit if they know we know. But me breaking into Korekiyo's room? Us taking Kiibo's chip? Letting Maki escape? They're waiting to see what our plan is. This is their entertainment." He intertwined his fingers, leaning his chin on the back of his hands like a sinister villain. "Now, how far will they let me go?"

"'Kichi...how far are you trying to go?" Kaito asked and oh no, he was using his deeply concerned voice.

"Just a little further, Kaito," Kokichi admitted seriously, maintaining eye contact with the former astronaut like his words held the upmost importance. Knowing Kokichi, they very well might. "Don't back out on me now."

Kaito's concerned expression dropped into something more serious, determined. "Never."

"Good!" suddenly, Kokichi's face sparkled with innocence, and he patted Kaito's shoulder as if they didn't just have the most intense conversation of all time. "Now, we gotta split up again, don't freak ou-"

"What?!"

Kokichi sighed, having fully expected that reaction. "Kaito is soooo predictable."

"You probably just pissed off the entire hospital staff!" Kaito motioned to the door like the nurses were about to break it down any second. "You really just wanna run off on your own after that?!"

"First, I can't run."

"Kokichi-!"

"Second, I'm not the only one who pissed them off. Miu kidnapped their therapist robot," Kokichi nodded towards Miu, who startled as she was suddenly brought into the conversation.

"W-What?! You little- it was your plan!"

"Shush Miu, the adults are talking," Kokichi blew her off, turning back to Kaito. "I need you to stay here to protect her."

"Protect-?" Kaito glanced over at Miu. "You don't think...they're not gonna try and hurt us, are they?"

"Doubt it. But they may want that back," Kokichi pointed at Kiibo's chip. "If I've thrown them off I gotta use this opportunity to check something out," suddenly, he was brandishing Miu's screwdriver. The girl yelped and patted at her hospital gown, not even realizing he had pickpocketed her. "Knight in shining armor has to protect the damsel in distress, right?"

Kaito's eyebrow twitched with annoyance. "I really hate when you talk like that, 'Kich. I'm not a hero, or a knight."

"But you're a friend, right? So you'll protect Miu for me?" Kokichi batted his eyelashes as endearingly as possible.

"I don't need protection," Miu mumbled, crossing her arms and glancing to the side. "Though I guess it wouldn't be horrible to have someone watching out for me and Kiibs. Just in case."

Kokichi scoffed, seeing right through her lie. "Sure. Kaito?"

Kaito gave Kokichi a begging look, as if waiting for him to change his mind. When he didn't Kaito merely groaned, bowing his head and raking his fingers through his lose, matted hair. "Fine. You better know what you're doing."

"I do!" Kokichi wheeled himself towards the barricaded door.

"And be careful!"

"I always am!"

Kokichi was surprised to find the hallways of the hospital empty. No one came to check on them, to take Kiibo's chip back, or even just to do their usual nurse duties.

"That's not suspicious at all, guys," he told the closest security camera. Secretly, he was pretty grateful that they're holding back as much as they are. It's suspicious as all hell, sure, but Kokichi took a gamble that these guys were going to let him do what he wanted, and so far it was working out.

Wheeling himself with his tiny, atrified arms proved to be a challenge, but he still made it all the way to Korekiyo's room, and then past, to the suspiciously locked door that had no key. The reigning theory was that Tsumugi was in there, but...that didn't feel right. It was too easy.

Even if this was hardly 'easy'. After exerting himself getting over here, Kokichi spent a good minute leaning his head against the door, gasping for breath. As soon as his vision cleared, and the room wasn't spinning, he pulled out the screwdriver and aimed it at the keyhole. His hands shook and twitched as he worked, making it take much longer than it should have. He was lucky that the tool managed to fit in the hole. He kept one hand pressed against the wood of the door, feeling and listening as he worked through the lock mechanism.

No one has come to stop him yet.

He heard a telltale click, and sighed, dropping his hands back in his lap. They were still trembling with overuse and exhaustion, but he still had the energy to shoot a cocky smirk at the security camera.

"Nothing?" he asked. "Not a single one of you wants to stop me?"

The hallway remained suspiciously empty. Kokichi shrugged, reaching for the knob.

"Alright. Let's see what you're hiding."

And he swung the door open.

A white room in comparison to an insane asylum was certainly not what he had expected. Padded, soundproof walls surrounded him and made him instantly uncomfortable. There was a person in here, lying in a crumpled heap on the ground. They were in a hospital gown, like his, and their long hair curtained their body so well he couldn't even tell if they were breathing. Kokichi wheeled himself into the room, flinching as the heavy door slammed shut automatically behind him. That couldn't be a good sign.

The person on the ground flinched violently at the sound of the door. Oh good, so they are alive. Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed at the sight of a medical scalpel on the floor, just out of reach of the person's extended fingers.

Something was entirely wrong here. The person was breathing heavily, pushing themselves up to their hands and knees. Something about their manner was wild, unpredictable.

Animalistic.

As the person peeled themself off the floor, their hair fluttered down their shoulders, out of their face. They lifted their chin and glared hazily at Kokichi, as if looking right through him. Kokichi's heart stopped dead in his chest, and his face peeled into an all-too-plastic smile. The kind that made it feel like the skin on his face was cracking like marble. The kind with which you could count the top and bottom rows of teeth. The kind which felt all too much like an animal's, baring its teeth towards a hungry predator. He smiled against the roar of the blood in his hears, against the sudden freeze in his chest, against the familiar terror threatening to pull him down, down, down. Despite the sudden, unrelenting fear coursing through his body, he made sure, on the outside, he looked positively elated.

"I was told you escaped weeks ago."

Chapter Text

Several Weeks Ago

Maki's lithe body easily wormed through the hospital's vent system, scalpel held loosely between her teeth. The vent was dark, with only brief slivers of light slipping through every so often. Each vent she would pass, she would peer down through the cracks and examine the room below her. Sterile hospital halls were all she could see. Refusing to give up, however, she continued to army-crawl through the vent system, passing each unnaturally-lit opening. The more and more she crawled, the more she worried about how impossibly large this hospital might be. Danganronpa seemed to be a very big operation, and she could only imagine the building would be as such.

She continued to worry until she turned a corner and saw a shift in lighting, up ahead. Several feet down, there was a dead end, with a vent facing towards her. Through the slotted openings, a red hue seeped through, completely different than all the other openings before.

Maki crawled forward, pressing her face to the vent and peering out at what seemed to be...a courtyard! The sky was a deep red/orange, which was concerning, to say the least. Maki wasn't sure what the sky was like in real life. But she had been hoping for blue.

Oh well. This was definitely the outdoors, judging by the grass, trees, and chainlink fence. She could worry about the atmospheric color later. Still lying on her stomach, she grabbed the scalpel from her mouth and used it to pry the vent open. She was hit by a rush of warm air, and the sudden natural light blinded her for a second. She squinted through the haze, finding herself at a two-story drop.

...She could make it.

With a shrug, Maki started to pull her body out of the vent. In her memories, she has fallen from far greater heights. She wasn't sure what her body could take in reality, but she didn't really have time to be concerned with that. With a lifetime of false assassin training under her belt, Maki swung out from the vent and dropped.

The air rushed past her in an instant. It wasn't a long fall, and she landed expertly. She bent her knees upon landing, and immediately twisted and rolled onto her hip to soften to blow. She continued rolling until she came full circle into a crouch, hands planted on the ground. Her knees twinged a little at the hard ground, and her hip would most definitely bruise. But it seemed she had just as much grace now as she did in the simulation.

With that settled, Maki wasted no time launching to her feet and running to the chainlink fence. Beyond the fence was a cluster of dark, condensed trees. She could easily hide and maneuver into the woods. As she ran, she noticed the red sky was...different from what she remember as the sky from the "end of the world". What had only been red in her limited vision was actually a gradient of oranges and yellows, fading into blues and purples.

A sunset.

More encouraged than ever, Maki didn't hesitate to approach the chainlink fence. It wasn't nearly so tall, she should be able to scale it easily.

She put one hand on the metal, and a shock sent her flying backwards into the courtyard, unconscious and twitching.

Now

Maki stared, wild-eyed, at Kokichi, who was panic-stricken and frozen in his wheelchair. And yet, he kept that stupid smile plastered on his face, maintaining such intense eye contact that one would think he would implode if he looked away.

"It's been a hot second, Assassin-chan," Kokichi drawled insincerely, the screwdriver hanging loose in one hand. He was very aware of the scalpel on the floor by Maki. He wasn't sure why it was there, but it wasn't a good sign.

"Is this all they were hiding in here?" Kokichi asked, looking around the room as if he had expected something more. "I was expecting something a little more exciting than a cliche killer reveal. I mean, been there, done that, right?" he chuckled, his eyes settling back on Maki. Her eyes glared at him through her low-hanging bangs, arms trembling as she struggled to hold herself up. Now that he could take a good look at her, he could see her arms were thinned to the bone, and her collarbone was jutting out from under her wrinkled hospital gown. Had they been...starving her?

Kokichi's legs twitched, wishing desperately that they could run away. "Hey, Maki. No, uh, hard feelings, about all that 'pretending to be the mastermind' stuff, right? Bygones, and all that?"

Whoops, wrong thing to say.

As if he had stepped on a proverbial landmine, Maki was suddenly lunging forward, snatching the scalpel from the ground and swinging it down in a dramatic arch. A split second decision between grabbing the wheels of his chair to flee or to protect his weak spot, Kokichi instinctively raised his arms above his head. The scalpel clanged against his screwdriver, and the force of Maki's swing sent him rolling back. His chair slammed into the door, and Kokichi choked as it wobbled. "Wait-!"

Maki's leg swupt under the chair, and suddenly Kokichi was lilting sideways. He could do little more than grip the armrests as the world tilted with him. He yelled as the chair clattered to the floor, landing on top of him. He yelped in pain, pushing himself up with his arms and desperately army-crawling towards the door. Maki's hand lashed out like a serpent, snagging his ankle and yanking him back. Kokichi cried out, rolling onto his back and swinging his screwdriver.

The tip of the screwdriver dug a pretty nasty scratch across Maki's shoulder, but did little more than that. The girl seemed hardly bothered, as the scratch didn't even draw blood. Kokichi figured he should be grateful, he didn't actually want to hurt her. But his poor excuse for a weapon hardly helped as Maki slashed down with her much-sharper scalpel. Kokichi, without many other choices, rolled gracelessly out of the blade's path. He kept rolling across the floor like a log until he felt like he was a safe enough distance away, before pushing himself up onto his hands.

"Bad form, attacking a kid in a wheelchair," he sneered from the ground, chest heaving with desperate pants. He wasn't nearly in shape enough to keep this up. And despite her horrible appearance, Maki seemed to have no trouble attacking at all. Her eyes were still clouded, hazy. In fact, her cheeks had a feverish glow to them, now that he was looking at her closer. Whatever Team Danganronpa had done to her, it left her crazed and confused.

"Come on," Kokichi chuckled, wincing as he could hear the desperation in his voice. He started to crawl backwards away from Maki, weak arms trembling against the ground. "What exactly did they do to you? You want food? I can get you food-"

Maki's eyes went wild at the mention of food, and Kokichi had an ominous feeling that he hit the nail right on the head. Still, she launched herself animalistically towards the boy, thrusting her scalpel forward. Kokichi yelped in fear, turning and throwing out one hand as protection.

The blade stabbed right through Kokichi's palm.

He screamed in pain as blood splashed up into his face, but Maki was already moving. She shoved Kokichi down to the ground, straddling him and tearing the scalpel from his hand. He cried out again as his hand spasmed in pain, dark red blood splattering across the white tile like a violent painting. His hand throbbed as suddenly his heart was pumping blood far too quickly into the limb. His bloodstained screwdriver rolled uselessly across the floor, knocked out of his grasp.

Maki's free hand lashed out, snatching Kokichi by the neck and slamming his head against the tile floor with a crack that could not mean anything good. The world went bright white for a moment, before coming back into focus. Kokichi's voice crackled as Maki's palm pressed down on his throat. She swiftly brought her other hand up, and he felt the gentle, yet threatening touch of the blade rest right below his chin. Even when gasping for air, Kokichi's lips pulled back into a sneer.

"T-This feels...f-familiar..."

Maki was panting like a wild animal, eyes frenzied, teeth gnashing. But the blade didn't move.

"Y-You haven't ch-changed...a bit...Little Miss Assassin..."

Maki growled darkly, and Kokichi chuckled, despite the increasing lack of airflow.

"G-Go ahead..." he turned on the darkest grin he could, even with his lips quivering for breath. "I-I always knew...you were n-nothing more...than a monster..."

Maki flinched at that, surprisingly. Kokichi took that as a good sign, and kept digging.

"Kaito m-may have faith in you...but I never did... You'll always be exactly what D-Danganronpa wrote you to be... So g-go ahead, k-kill me. P-Prove me right, you know I love that... Prove you are the monster they made you...Kill me..."

He could feel the blade of the scalpel shaking now, nicking some skin and causing a pained wince. Maki said nothing. Kokichi grit his teeth aggressively, and put in all the effort he could to lift his head, slightly, pressing his neck against her hand, and the scalpel.

"Do it, Ultimate Assassin!"

Maki flinched violently, and then suddenly she was grasping her own wrist, stumbling back and falling to her knees a good few feet away from him. Kokichi's head fell to the floor with a slam, and he gasped at the sudden rush of air. Then, he rolled over, coughing saliva all across the ugly white floor, the blood rushing back to his brain dizzying him. His injured hand slapped the floor to catch himself, but it only caused a sharp pain to shoot up his arm, and more blood from the wound splattered across the tile.

"What's the holdup?" he finally asked breathlessly, not looking up at her. Through his peripheral, he could see Maki throw the scalpel to the side. It hit the wall with a clang. Even still, she looked like she was fighting against herself, holding her wrist tightly and trembling.

"I'm not a monster..." she insisted, though it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself. Kokichi could feel her eyes boring through him, and noticed that the haze had begun to clear. "I'm not."

"Aren't you?" he wheezed, gently cradling his neck in his uninjured hand and, with a trembling arm, forcing himself to sit up.

"I'm not," Maki insisted, though she didn't seem to believe it fully, judging from the way she was still holding herself back, far, far away from Kokichi. "That was a character, not me."

Kokichi chuckled humorlessly, and the sound caused a sharp pain through his throat. He reminded himself to apologize to Miu again, for such a shitty way to go. "Let me guess. Kaito told you that one."

Maki didn't have to answer. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she was frowning, but for once, she didn't look mad. Not at Kokichi, anyway.

"What the hell did they do to you...?" Kokichi asked breathlessly, chest still heaving.

"I didn't want..." Maki cut herself off, recoiling slightly and biting her lip. "I didn't want-"

"-to hurt me?" Kokichi smiled, though it was pretty weak and pathetic, if you asked him. Maki went silent, bowing her head ashamedly. "You- ah," Kokichi hissed as his injured hand throbbed again. He wrapped his good hand around the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. "You did a pretty shit job of that."

Maki flinched, and Kokichi allowed himself a second of glory over that. But still, it was a hollow victory considering one: his hand was bleeding profusely and two: Maki was here. In the hospital. Not out in the real world, as he had assumed she was over these several weeks.

"You didn't escape," Kokichi said, looking up at her. Maki grimaced.

"They caught me before I could. I don't know how long I've been here."

"Weeks," Kokichi answered. "It's been weeks."

Maki gasped shakily. Her eyes trailed downwards, the confused haze returning somewhat. "Weeks..." she repeated under her breath. She lifted her hand, to stare at her palm. At the angle, Kokichi couldn't see exactly, but her skin looked...black. Blistered. Did she...did she get burned?

"Yep," Kokichi said with as little sympathy as he could muster, looking around at the white padded room. It must have been hell, starving in this blinding nightmare. Not to mention, leaving a scalpel in here with her?

Were they...hoping she'd hurt herself?

"Well, door's unlocked," Kokichi tilted his head towards the closed door. "You can give it a second go, if you'd like."

Maki looked up at Kokichi, eyebrows furrowing. She looked...so confused. Confused that Kokichi was helping her? Offering her an out?

"What?" Kokichi smiled as cheekily as possible. The mask felt awkward, like he didn't put it on completely, and some of his real face ended up peeking through, naked. "Surprised the big, bad mastermind is helping you out?"

Maki's look of confusion darkened, and her eyes narrowed. "You're not the mastermind."

"Ah, yeah, you got me there," Kokichi waved her off casually.

"You're not..." Maki trailed off, apparently not wanting to finish the sentence. She looked down thoughtfully for a moment. "I promised someone I'd give you a second chance...to see the real you, not the character from Danganronpa," Maki admitted. Kokichi cradled his injured hand, studying Maki intensely.

She...wasn't lying.

"Some second chance," Kokichi scoffed, waggling his throbbing, bleeding hand in the air. Maki winced, looking away from it shamefully. "The person I just met was a crazed lunatic, cooped up in here so long she was driven to some animalistic, violent instinct to attack." Maki winced some more, turning even further away. Kokichi's lips pulled into a small smirk, and he wrapped his hand around his wound again, hands lowering to his lap. "I guess that's why they said third time's the charm, huh?"

Maki suddenly looked back at him, eyebrows furrowing with confusion.

"Kaito claims I'm not the same guy you hated in the game," Kokichi explained. "And I'm guessing the you right now never actually killed somebody."

Maki's eyes widened, as if she just realized that herself.

"I try to make an effort not to be friends with murderers," Kokichi's eyes pinched in a false smile, before the expression slipped away to something more neutral. "But I guess you're only an attempted one, huh? Doesn't count. So, third time's the charm. Let's have another chance." With a smile that felt more genuine, he reached out his uninjured hand, toward the kneeling girl with hair curtaining her whole body. "My name's...Kichi. Kichi...Outa. You are?"

Maki raised one eyebrow at Kokichi's 'name'. "What? If I'm not the Ultimate Supreme Leader, and you're not the Ultimate Assassin, we ought to have different names than them, right?"

"You've been hanging around Kaito," Maki said. Not a question. Kokichi smirked.

"Yeah. Guess he rubbed off on me. Just a tad."

Hesitantly, Maki reached out and took his hand.

"I'm Maki."

"Maki...?" Kokichi urged. Maki rolled her eyes.

"Maki, Maki. That's all." Maki shrugged, still only offering her first name.

"Okay then, Maki-Maki it is," Kokichi snorted, and Maki almost pulled away. But instead, he shook her hand firmly, the blood on their hands squelching.

"Nice to meet ya, Maki-Maki." His hand throbbed. His head swam. His limbs trembled. The world darkened. "Hey, Maki-Maki?"

"Yeah, what...Outa?" she asked, sounding very unwilling to use his fake name, but playing along for the sake of change.

"Do me a favor, would ya?"

"What?"

"Catch me," Kokichi whispered as the world went white, and he listed forward. He was unconscious before he could find out if Maki-Maki caught him before his face hit the ground.

Angie and Shuichi stood outside of Korekiyo's room in silence. Shuichi was deeply uncomfortable by the silence, but Angie gave no such sign of feeling the same. Well, not to the trained eye. Anyone would just see the typical relaxed smile across her face. But Shuichi was more observant than most people. He could see the stiffness in her fingers, the pinching of her eyes.

"We don't have to," Shuichi insisted for the umpteenth time today. "We can come back another time. The door's open, we can-"

"Shuichi," Angie said with a smile, and that shut him up promptly. The artist closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she opened them again, she looked ready. She reached out for the doorknob and opened the door. The two of them froze in the doorway, eyes wide.

"Um, Shuichi..." Angie's voice was toeing the line between casual and concerned. "Where is he?"

Korekiyo's room was bare. The bed in the middle of the room was in a slight disarray, the blanket half-hazardly tossed to the side. The unlocked cabinet from before has now beed padlocked like every other cabinet in the hospital.

"I...don't know," Shuichi admitted weakly.

Miu was still fiddling with the television screen in Kokichi's room. Kiibo's computer chip was sitting beside her, on the rolling bedside table. Kaede sat on Kokichi's bed, legs swinging, watching Miu mess with the technology to no avail. Miu's frustration was obvious, as she tried to pry apart the panels behind the tv with absolutely no tools to speak of. With an angry grunt, Miu smacked the side of the tv and took several steps back, glowering at the screen from a new angle. Kaede leaned forward, tapping Miu's shoulder to catch her attention.

No luck? she asked in sign language. Miu sighed.

I can't do anything without tools, Miu admitted. And that little... Miu's hands hesitated. Not knowing how to sign the next word, Miu elected to finger spell instead. B-I-T-C-H took the only accessible screwdriver.

Kaito should be back with him soon, hopefully, Kaede encouraged, using a sign of the letter "K" flashing like the sign "stars" above her head for Kaito's name.

He's been gone for a long time, Miu pointed out. What if something happened?

I promised to stay here with you, to protect both you and Kiibo, Kaede motioned towards the computer chip on the table. Now, we just have to trust Kaito.

And Kokichi? Miu asked, looking very skeptical. She used the sign of the letter "K" to motion out the word "clown" for Kokichi's name. Kaede chuckled in amusement.

To a lesser extent, yes, we trust him too.

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Miu flinched violently, and Kaede was already pushing her behind her protectively, despite the barricaded door. She glared daggers at the door, standing defensively in front of Miu and waiting until who was on the other side spoke up.

He must have been underwater. It was the only explanation for the sound of the loud, crashing waves. There were some muffled voices, barely audible through the waves. He didn't want to be underwater anymore though. A light shone through the surface, and Kokichi swam up.

"You're not mad?"

"Mad? I'm furious. But I'm just happy you're okay."

"Okay...you're squishing me, Kaito."

"Shush. Let it happen, Maki Roll."

Kokichi moaned as he burst through the surface, forcing his eyes open. The hospital light flashed into his vision and he winced, recoiling away. There was a shifting as someone got closer to him.

"'Kichi?" called a warm, familiar voice. "You up?"

"No," Kokichi managed to mumble, his mouth feeling slimy with sleep. "Leave me alone. I'm sleeeeeping."

"He's awake," the voice, Kaito, sighed exasperatedly. "If he went and got himself a concussion-"

"It's my fault," Maki-Maki's voice interrupted. "I attacked him."

"You didn't know what you were doing," Kaito immediately rejected it. "It's Team Danganronpa's fault for keeping you isolated that long."

"Kaito, please," Maki-Maki snapped, sounding somewhat irritated. "You can't keep vouching for me forever. Let me take responsibility for my own actions."

There was a silence that Kokichi could only interpret as Kaito's hesitation. "Yeah, okay."

As Kokichi's awareness was almost forcefully returned to him, he realized something strange. He didn't feel like he was lying down in his hospital bed, where he usually wakes up. No, he was on something hard, and cold. Wait a sec, was he sleeping on the floor?!

Kokichi, with great effort, pried his eyes open again. As his vision returned after adjusting to the harsh light, he recognized the white padded walls of the room where Maki-Maki was being held. It seemed he hadn't left. So why was Kaito here?

Speaking of, the former astronaut was kneeling above Kokichi now, brushing his hair out of his face in far-too-tender a gesture. If Kokichi had the energy to swat his hand away, he would. In fact, he tried, but as soon as his hand twitched, a sharp pain shot up his arm. He clenched his teeth, holding back a cry of pain as he squeezed his eyes shut, tilting his head up against the tile floor.

"Careful there, careful," Kaito murmured, gently guiding his hand back to the floor. Damn him, he sounded way too concerned about Kokichi's wellbeing, and he hated it. "You probably shouldn't move that hand for a while."

Kokichi let his head loll to the side, to glance at his hand. It was wrapped in bandages, but blood was already seeping through. "Oh. Right."

"Just stay down," Kaito insisted quietly. "We'll figure this out, just rest."

"K-Kaito..." Kokichi tried, his teeth still bared in pain. "It's Maki...she..."

"I know, she's right here," Kaito looked up, at presumably Maki. That's when the assassin scooted over, into Kokichi's field of view, kneeling on the other side of his body.

"Hey...Outa..." she said hesitantly, still clearly uncomfortable with the strange new nicknames, and dynamic, that they had been given. "How are you feeling?"

Kokichi winced, but tried to play it off as a sneer. "Just peachy, Maki-Maki."

Kaito looked between the two of them, looking utterly confused. "What the hell happened between you two?"

"I found Maki-Maki in this room," Kokichi explained tiredly, not really sure if his eyes were open or closed anymore. "There was a dragon guarding her, but we fought him off together. That's why there's..." Kokichi waved his uninjured hand around the room. "Blood."

"Liar," Kaito grumbled.

"I already told Kaito I attacked you," Maki-Maki spoke up. "You don't have to lie for me, Outa."

"'m not lying for you," Kokichi mumbled. "I just wanted to make myself look cool...by fighting a dragon..."

"Dragons aren't real," Kaito frowned. Then, he hesitated. "Probably."

Kokichi found himself too dizzy, too tired to come up with a decent response. So, he let himself slowly get dragged back into the waters from before. But before he could be fully submerged, he felt a hand shake his shoulder.

"Stay awake," Kaito insisted. "It's probably not good for you to be passing out with a concussion."

"Concussion?" Kokichi voice was still slurring. "Who says?"

"Your head hitting the tile floor says," Kaito scolded. "Damn it, Kokichi, what was your goal here?"

Goal? That's right, he had a goal. A reason for coming here alone. His eyes fluttered open to glare weakly at the ceiling. Goal...something about Tsumugi, right? Or, something about this room? But he never expected it to be Maki-Maki...this might change things. But his head felt too...cotton-y, to come up with a better plan. He had to have a plan, right? He's Kokichi Oma! He always had a plan, as well as at least five back up plans, and one last-ditch, risk it all plan for when all of those go wrong. But no, he couldn't conjure up any plan, let alone six. Having his brain feel this fuzzy and confused was frightening. He couldn't be anything but on his top game. He was surrounded by threats, trapped in a spooky hospital, he had no time for a concussion. But the pounding in his head and the refusal for a real plan to take any form was too overbearing.

"Kokichi?"

Oops, he got lost there for a second. Not realizing how long it's been since Kaito asked the question, and really not remember what he asked in the first place, Kokichi's head rolled to look at Kaito. "Come again?"

Kaito's eyebrows furrowed in concern. He didn't repeat the question. "We should get you back to your room. Think you're well enough to have us move you?"

"Ooh, do I get to be carried by my knight in shining armor?"

"I was thinking more in the wheelchair. Come on, let's sit you up," Kaito tucked his hand under Kokichi's back and tried to sit him up. As soon as his head left the floor, a wave of dizziness threatened to knock Kokichi unconscious again. He reeled, reaching out and grabbing Kaito's arm with his good hand as the world tilted. His vision flashed white at him, just like how it felt when his skull first hit the tile. "Woah, woah!" he could heard Kaito's muffled voice as he reached out and caught Kokichi, holding his body up. "Okay, no wheelchair," he amended. "You win, 'Kichi. I'll carry you."

"Yay..." Kokichi mumbled, eyes fluttering closed as his stomach threatened to expel what little food he had. He had no energy to even feign excitement as Kaito's strong arms wrapped around him. He couldn't deny it though, he felt safe as his body was suddenly lifted into the air, cradled against Kaito's chest. If he were to be vulnerable, dizzy, and without a plan, he was happy he could at least be that while in Kaito's arms. 

"Come on, Maki Roll," he could feel the deep rumble from Kaito's chest as he talked, and Kokichi resisted the urge to squirm closer. "I'm not letting you stay in here another second."

"Okay," Maki-Maki agreed easily, presumably rising from the floor. Kokichi had no desire to check, as he let himself float in his strange white void of nausea and confusion. Suddenly, Kaito's voice came back, quieter. Though the deep vibration in his chest still roared.

"Let's get you back, 'Kich," he murmured down to Kokichi, softly. "I won't let you get hurt again."

Somewhere, deep in his brain, Kokichi was amused. His own murderer, insisting he won't let him get hurt. The irony was funny, in a way.

"Hold on," Maki's voice spoke up, and there was the sound of metal on tile, like she was picking something up. "We need something to protect ourselves."

"You don't really think they'll hurt us, do you?" Kaito asked above Kokichi's head, out of his line of sight. "They've kind of been letting Kokichi do whatever he wants."

"Yeah, well," Maki-Maki sounded rightfully pissed off now. "They locked me in a room and starved me and deprived me of human contact for weeks. So, y'know. I think they can and will hurt us."

Kokichi could feel Kaito's sympathetic wince. "Jeez, for real? I didn't realize- you do look skinny, I'll get Kirumi to get you something from the kitchen-"

"Forget it, Kaito," Maki's voice passed by them, clearly walking ahead. "Let's just board up in Kokichi- I mean, Outa's room until we can come up with a plan."

"You're going to have to explain the whole 'Outa' thing to me," Kaito mentioned, following her suit.

"I'll explain everything. Let's just get behind a barricaded door, please? Before they come after me?"

"Speaking of, there's surprisingly little resistance going on," Kaito commented, looking around the empty hallway. "You think they would have tried to stop us by now. What gives?"

Kokichi shifted in his arms, summoned by the sound of theorizing. "Entertainment..."

"What?" Kaito gasped, looking down at Kokichi in surprise. "You really think that's true?"

Kokichi nodded, his head still smushed up against Kaito's chest. His hair ruffled with the motion. "There's no way they would just let me do what I want with no ulterior motives. Everythin' we've done so far..." he almost faded out of his own sentence, but he tried with all his might to pull himself back in. "They are letting us..."

"I see," Maki-Maki's voice was tight. Apprehensive. God, Kokichi wished he could see her face. Either of their faces. The severity of the situation, the mood of his companions, it was all lost in a blurry sludge of a quickly-worsening concussion. Not to mention the throbbing pain emanating from his injured hand. This sucked.

"I know," Kaito said sympathetically, and Kokichi realized he said that last part out loud. "It sucks. But you found Maki Roll, dude. You saved her."

Kokichi scoffed, burying his face a little further into Kaito's chest without really noticing it. "I saved no one..."

He felt Kaito slow to a stop. He couldn't see his face, but Kaito's chest trembled like his breath got caught. "'Kichi..."

If Kaito said anymore, Kokichi didn't hear it. His voice grew distant and muffled, as the familiar feeling of sinking into inky waters returned. Kokichi's breath shuttered through his parted lips. Somewhere, above the surface, he could almost hear Kaito calling out for him. But he was too damn tired to swim up this time. His eyes fluttered shut, and he allowed the depths to pull him down, down, down. Before he slipped completely under, however, he heard a new voice from above. One not as familiar as the deep tenor of Kaito, or stoic whisper of Maki. He couldn't pinpoint exactly who it was, until Kaito's voice sliced through the waters.

"Dr. Sho..."

Chapter Text

Every single member of the class of Danganronpa V3 sat in the therapy room, save Kiibo and Tsumugi. Even Korekiyo was there, isolated in a large, puffy chair, and utterly silent. Angie and Tenko were on the floor, noticeably far away from Korekiyo, while Himiko had pulled over a step stool to use as a makeshift chair. Kirumi sat in a wooden chair, crutches held in front of her. Behind her, Gonta chose to stand, rather than sit. Ryoma somehow got stuck sitting in a plastic-looking beanbag chair. Maki stood, arms crossed, one foot away from the door, looking just about ready to dart, or attack, at a moment's notice. Kaede and Rantaro stood vigil behind the long couch, where the rest of the students sat. Shuichi, Kaito, Kokichi, and Miu, in order from left to right. Kokichi's wheelchair had been parked beside the couch, Kokichi himself sitting between Miu and Kaito, both exuding extremely protective auras. Dr. Sho sat in front of them all, facing them.

Kokichi was sitting upright, on his own, but Kaito could tell he was struggling to even do that. He watched him carefully out of the corner of his eye. He even sat so close that their shoulders were touching, giving him silent permission to lean on him if need be. But instead, Kokichi's hazy gaze was glaring straight forward at Dr. Sho. His injured hand twitched every couple of seconds, and Kaito could see that every muscle was tense with pain.

The kid looked like a damn mess.

That black eye hadn't gotten any better, if anything it was worse. His hand was bleeding through the sloppy bandages, and his face was pale, and more than a little nauseous-looking. Through his peripheral vision, Kaito could see Miu shooting Kokichi glances, a mix between confused and concerned, eyebrows drawn in tightly.

"Thank you for coming," Dr. Sho started, cutting through the terribly strained silence. Kaito felt Kokichi physically tense up even more than he already was.

When Kaito, Maki, and Kokichi left the room Maki was being held in, they immediately came face-to-face with Dr. Sho, who asked for them to come with her to the therapy room. When she had seen their hesitant expressions, she revealed that the rest of their classmates had already agreed to do so. It seemed she had not been lying about that, as even Korekiyo had joined the group. Kirumi had looked justifiably horrified at Kokichi's miserable condition, but he had just waved her off with an annoyed glare and the instance that he's "fine". Miu had scooted over on the couch, allowing Kaito to set Kokichi down beside her. The rest of the group watched with a curious kind of worry.

What Dr. Sho had them all gathered for, Kaito had no idea.

"Did we have much of a choice?" Ryoma mumbled lazily from his beanbag chair, looking unimpressed. Dr. Sho was unfazed.

"It has been far too long since we've gathered as a group, like this," Dr. Sho explained.

"I don't think we've ever gathered as a group like this," Shuichi mused, shooting an unsubtle glance in Korekiyo's direction.

"So you brought us in here to...bond?" Tenko asked, looking around at the rest of the group with clear apprehension.

"Not quite," Dr. Sho sighed. "I have something to admit to you all."

The group waited in silence, but Kaito noticed Kokichi's hand twitch more violently than before. The boy's eyes had narrowed now, glaring daggers at the psychologist as he waited for her next move.

"This hospital is not a hospital," Dr. Sho said. "We have been recording you all and broadcasting it as a post-season special of Danganronpa."

Kokichi was still.

The rest of the room erupted.

"What the heck?!" Himiko all but shrieked, as both Tenko suddenly threw herself in front of the magician protectively. Angie's smile tightened into something positively terrifying.

"What do you mean?!" Gonta exclaimed, taking a couple, thunderous footsteps forward. "This is a...this is a show?!"

"So nothing's changed," Ryoma scoffed. His voice was laidback, but his face betrayed a disgusted sneer. Kaito had never seen him more livid. "You've just stuck us in a different hell."

"Don't worry, Himiko," Tenko was insisting as she held her close. "Tenko will protect you." It seemed in her panic, she started falling into old habits, like talking in the third person.

"You were right," Korekiyo mumbled, though he didn't seem to be talking to anyone in particular. Worryingly, he had started to rock back and forth in his big chair, his arms tucked in towards his chest. "They weren't nurses at all...they didn't want to help..."

Maki damn near lunged for Dr. Sho, but something held her back. A desire to stay by her closest escape route, maybe? However, the aura around her grew dark, as her matted, unwashed hair curtained her demonically. "So people were watching as you isolated and starved me? You're awfully brave to admit this while I'm free. Do you wanna die?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing, dropping this on us now?!" Shuichi exclaimed, rocketing to his feet.

Kaito noticed that Kirumi had said nothing yet, but instead was shooting the security camera a suspicious look. Rather, a knowing look. Perhaps, like Kokichi, Kirumi had already started to catch on to Danganronpa's scheme.

"I'm sorry to drop it on you like this," Dr. Sho explained calmly, over the clamoring chaos. "But if you will please settle down, I will explain everything."

"And why should we trust you?" Amami asked, crossing his arms skeptically.

"I have given you no reason to," Dr. Sho admitted, though she hardly looked sorry about it. "But I assure you, everything I'm saying is the truth. The killing game may have ended, but the show never did."

"You're disgusting," Shuichi spat in a show of fury, glaring down at her. Kaito was more than a little impressed with his sidek- his friend's growth. Seeing Shuichi stand up against Danganronpa on the television was one thing. Gone was the meek, paranoid detective, afraid of confrontation. Seeing him here now, fuming and towering protectively for his classmates, made Kaito even more proud. 

"I understand how you feel," Dr. Sho said, which felt more patronizing than it did comforting. "Please, take a seat, Shuichi. Let's discuss this like adults."

"Adults," Shuichi scoffed to himself, though he did sit back down, arms crossed defiantly.

"Are they watching us now?" Kaito spoke up, feeling the anger radiating off of his friend next to him. Dr. Sho hesitated, then nodded.

"Well, I got a little message for your loyal viewers," Miu said despite the pain her her throat. "Fffffffuck you." Despite the tense room, her comment still managed to pull a couple, self-satisfied snickers, namely from Ryoma, Kaede, Rantaro, and Kaito. Though it would be something that Kokichi would at least smile at, the boy had no reaction.

"We know that this is an abrupt thing to drop on you," Dr. Sho said. "But unfortunately, one of you had us figured out. It was only a matter of time before all of you were in on it, so why bother keeping the secret?"

Miu and Kaito slowly turned to glance at Kokichi, followed by everyone else, who seemed to draw the correct conclusion. Kokichi, still sitting up without support in a show of amazing stubbornness, stared at Dr. Sho with a deadpan expression.

"Kokichi?" Ryoma muttered. "You figured this out?"

"What, like it was hard?" Kokichi smirked, glancing over at his friend in the beanbag chair. Even with his confident mask plastered all over him, Kaito could see the tremors in Kokichi's body. It was taking more energy than he had to keep up the facade, and he certainly didn't like the look of that twitch in Kokichi's hand.

"And is there a reason you decided not to share this with us?" Tenko asked, clearly irritated. She glared at Kokichi from her spot on the floor, and Kokichi glared right back.

"I was too busy getting stabbed, bitch."

Kaito winced, and he could see Maki wince as well. Even if Kokichi hadn't directly said who, how, or why, it was still a brutal dig at Maki. Despite their...truce, for lack of a better word, it seemed Kokichi's patience was at the end of its rope. He didn't look close to snapping, necessarily, but he certainly was pissed off at a lot of things, and the hole through his hand had to be one of them. Kaito could tell that Kokichi's mask was fraying, as 'bitch' was a term he seemed to reserve for Miu, and on the occasion, Maki. Tenko look justifiably surprised at the genuinely furious response.

"Oh no!" Gonta exclaimed as if he hadn't noticed the clear bandages on Kokichi's hand. "Kokichi got hurt?"

Kokichi shot a vicious, staggering glare in Gonta's direction, and the big guy nearly toppled over as he backpedalled, quickly ducking away. Kaito put a hand on Kokichi's arm, trying to pull his attention back. His expression...it was far too angry, far too cruel an expression to direct towards a guy like Gonta. Kokichi's mask was slipping, and it only made Kaito more worried for his wellbeing.

"You were stabbed?" Korekiyo seemed to pull himself out of whatever stupor he was in to look at Kokichi with what could be interpreted as concern. Kokichi's glance over at Korekiyo was much less blood-curdling than how he looked at Gonta. He merely seemed surprised at the anthropologist's concerns. "How on Earth did that happen?"

"Blame the so-called 'nurses'," Kokichi spat with no small amount of disgust in Dr. Sho's direction. He wasn't able to physically make the air quotes with his fingers, but you could hear them in his tone of voice. Maki blinked, a look of surprise washing over her when she realized Kokichi wasn't going to tell them what really happened. He wasn't going to throw her under the bus.

Kaito wish he could be heart-warmed by the clear sign of allyship between the two, but he was too busy watching Kokichi's uncharacteristic mood swings with worry.

"I will take a look at your wound and properly dress it as soon as possible," Kirumi stated, leaving no room for debate even as Kokichi scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Let me get this straight," Shuichi pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning forward. "Kokichi figured out your little scheme, so you're just outright admitting it?"

"Yes," Dr. Sho said calmly.

Shuichi gaped in shock, shaking his head. "...Anything else you wanna drop on us?"

"A couple things, actually, so if you could all keep your commentary until I am finished," Dr. Sho said with no amount of shame.

Suddenly, Kokichi jumped, startled by something, and quickly looked over his shoulder. Kaito followed his gaze, but saw nothing but Rantaro and Kaede, still standing behind the couch. They looked down at him in surprise as his eyes jerked back and forth, looking for something.

"Everything alright, Kokichi?" Rantaro asked down at him, eyebrows turned in.

"I thought I heard-" Kokichi cut himself off, catching himself and spinning back around. "Nothing."

He thought he heard something? Kaito took one more cautious look over his shoulder. I didn't hear anything. But it was too late to grill him any further. Kokichi was already facing forward again, his expression leaving no room for argument. What is he hearing?

Kokichi's hand twitched again. Kaito scooted a little closer.

"Let's discuss a little more in detail, shall we?" Dr. Sho asked with a disturbing amount of calm. "While this facility does contain equipment to help with any medical needs, it is not a hospital. It is a privately-owned facility for Team Danganronpa. This is where we house the pods that put you all in the virtual simulation. It is also where we keep you after the killing game, for a post-season special."

"Yeah, you want to explain what that actually means?" Ryoma grumbled from his beanbag chair.

"Of course. The post-season special has been happening for the past twenty seasons of Danganronpa, to a high degree of success. Many people like the reassurance at seeing their favorite characters alive and well, as well as witnessing how they would live after a killing game. So, we broadcast the characters from the past killing game living in a community together, reality-television style. However, to keep any reactions or behaviors as authentic as possible, we don't divulge this to the characters at first."

You could feel the room grow more and more annoyed every time she said the word 'character' again. By the end of her explanation, a good half of the students were growling and baring their teeth like animals. A couple were still holding it together, like Kirumi, and Rantaro, but even they were looking more than a little irritated. Kokichi was as well, but to a scary extent. As if he were listening, but couldn't physically respond at all.

"I can't imagine this has been a particularly interesting special," Kirumi said, a certain tone of sarcasm tainting her voice.

"On the contrary," Dr. Sho actually smiled at this. "You all have been quite entertaining. Especially some of you who have been plotting and scheming 'behind our backs'," she lifted her hands to make air quotes with her fingers. Once again, all eyes turned to Kokichi. And once again, he ignored them all, instead choosing to glare down Dr. Sho.

"The outside world must really be disgusting, if it finds something like this entertaining," Ryoma scoffed.

"It is the same people who watched us participate in a killing game," Tenko commented, pursing her lips in disgust.

"You probably don't care about how much of our privacy was violated," Kirumi started coldly. "But can I ask just how much of our lives was being broadcast?"

"Almost all," Kokichi mumbled, mostly to himself. Kaito still heard, though, and shot him a concerned look.

"Your privacy was a right you willingly signed away when you signed the contracts to join Danganronpa," Dr. Sho pointed out. "But just so you know, nothing in any bathrooms was broadcast. Other than that, there were cameras in every room."

"You should know I greatly contest with your warped idea of 'consent'," Kirumi spat, and Kaito winced. Despite her never leaving her chair, there was an air around the 'Prime Minister' that exuded such disgust, such disdain, that Kaito hoped he would never be on the receiving end of. Even though her voice was calm, her eyes betrayed a fury boiling underneath. "Maybe we did consent to all this when we signed those contracts, but as soon as you wiped our brains and provided us with entirely new identities, that consent was gone. Perhaps the old me really did agree to this. But Kirumi Tojo never did. The Ultimate Maid never signed any forms. Never agreed to be recorded. Never agreed to be executed for this...perverted idea of entertainment."

"She's right," Rantaro agreed, bristling beside Kaede. "The way we are now, we never gave you any consent, and that has to mean something."

"I'm sure it means something to you, personally," Dr. Sho condescended. "But I'm afraid it means nothing legally. The contracts are legit, and binding. We are well within our rights to record this special, as well as the killing game itself."

At the end of that concerning sentence, Kokichi's hand suddenly shot out, gripping Kaito's thigh tightly. Kaito winced, turning to look at him.

"What is it?" he whispered, trying to keep the attention away from the two of them.

"I don't know," Kokichi admitted, horrifyingly, staring ahead. His chest was heaving now, his breath shaky. Panicked. Kokichi never panicked. And certainly not this publicly. Kokichi raised one hand and pressed it against his heart, as if to physically keep it from racing. A feeling of dread passed over Kaito. He moved a little closer, one arm coming around Kokichi's back. He didn't hold him, per se. He just kept his arm behind him, ready to be supportive at a moment's notice. Kaito wasn't sure if Kokichi was still hearing something, or if the visceral feeling of fear was coming from somewhere else. He just knew he had to be here, to keep both Kokichi's sanity and image safe.

As quiet as he tried to keep it, one person did notice. Rantaro, in his spot behind the couch, had full view of Kokichi freaking out. He leaned over the edge of the couch to whisper. "Hey, is everything alright?"

Kokichi wouldn't, maybe couldn't, even look at him. Kokichi's hand on Kaito's thigh was trembling now. Not an uncontrolled movement, like the twitching. Not nerves firing. It was sheer terror, and Kaito had no idea what to do. He had no idea what was frightening Kokichi so badly that his precious villain image would dissolve this easily.

What was happening?

"Kokichi? Is something the matter?" Dr. Sho asked, and Kokichi snarled, suddenly pulling his hand away from Kaito's thigh. He glowered at her in anger, as the room's attention turned back to him.

"Yes, we're trapped in a fake hospital for some psycho's idea of entertainment," he snapped, unable to hide the irritation in his voice. Kokichi's tone was as venomous as his glare. "Also, I can't walk."

"I see, perhaps it was a stupid question," Dr. Sho mused. Kaito was still watching Kokichi with careful concern. The boy had managed to mask his terror as anger, for now.

"I'm still confused as to why Kokichi is in such a state," Kirumi said, startling Kokichi. He looked over at her in surprise, and maybe even annoyance, at being brought up again. Knowing Kokichi, he probably hated bringing the attention back to him and his injuries. "Did Team Danganronpa hurt him because he figured out your ruse?"

"And how did Kokichi figure it out?" Angie asked with an eerily joyful tone. "It's not like he could do much investigating, in that state."

"That's not nice, Angie," Rantaro scolded from behind the couch. Though, he did turn to look at Kokichi afterward. "Though I am curious as to how you figured out that we were in another show, Kokichi."

"I'm psychic," Kokichi deadpanned, an eyebrow twitch betraying his irritation.

"I'm curious about that as well, actually," Shuichi spoke up shyly, leaning forward so he can look across the couch at Kokichi. "How did you figure it out? What clues did you find?"

"I don't know!" Kokichi shouted, his fraying patience finally snapping. "The stupid 'therapy' that was obviously just a confessional? Nurses that don't give a goddamn shit about our health? Cameras everywhere, but they still let me do what I damn well please?! The signs were everywhere, it's not my fault you are the least observant group of assholes I've ever met and my god does serious no one hear that?!"

At the end of the breakdown, Kokichi spun frantically to look over his shoulder, looking exasperated. His eyes frantically searched the room again, for the source of the sound only he seemed to hear. Kaito's worry only grew. "Seriously hear what?"

"THE PRESS!" Kokichi exploded, eyes wide and looking behind him. The room went still, as did Kokichi, as he realized he had just completely broke down in front of everyone.

"You're hearing...?" Kaito asked breathlessly, his voice catching in his throat. Suddenly, the looming feeling of doom didn't seem too unfounded. As if the press itself were hovering above them all, waiting to fall.

"Nothing," Kokichi snapped, spinning back around to face the front, face carefully falling into a neutral expression. "That was just a lie."

"Kid..." Ryoma muttered, his often-dead expression twisted into worry. In fact, everyone seemed to be staring at him with concern, even the ones who often didn't care for Kokichi.

"Drop it," Kokichi sat stick-straight, glaring ahead at Dr. Sho.

His hand twitched again.

"Okay..." Shuichi murmured, his attention slowly turning from Kokichi to Dr. Sho. Clearly, he had more questions, but didn't want to piss Kokichi off any further. "Can I ask about Kiibo, then?"

"What would you like to know?" Dr. Sho asked casually. Kaito saw Miu tense up out of the corner of his eye. Her gaze flickered to Kokichi, then away. The nurses, or whoever they are...they must know that they were the ones who 'kidnapped' Kiibo, right? Are they going to force them to give him back?

"You claimed he was a therapist AI, but that was a lie, wasn't it?" Shuichi confirmed. "So is Kokichi right? He was just programmed for confessionals?"

"Yes," Dr. Sho said. "He asks the burning questions our viewing audience submits. Though he is a sentient AI, as well."

"But he doesn't have any of our Kiibo's memories, huh?" Miu mumbled, glaring at the doctor.

"Not necessarily," Dr. Sho explained. "The Kiibo that you have...stolen has the same programming as the AI from the simulation, it has just been written over to provide a new purpose."

"And who was responsible for that?" Shuichi glowered. "You? You are Team Danganronpa's psychologist, so does that mean you are responsible for Kiibo?"

"Hm. Well. You should know, I'm not a doctor," Dr...Sho, admitted. "I'm a director. I've been the head director for the past four seasons of Danganronpa, and their post-game specials. All of which have been rather successful."

The room erupted again in surprised chatter. As sketchy as the hospital had been, no one had suspected that Sho wasn't a doctor.

"Wait a second, I thought Tsumugi was the director," Angie spoke up, raising her hand. Her smile had dimmed, her eyebrows drawn in curiously. Heads abruptly turned to her as the topic was finally breached, rather bluntly.

Tsumugi.

Kaito winced. He really hadn't wanted to think about Tsumugi just yet. And judging by the uncomfortable silence that followed, neither did his classmates. Sho, however, seemed unbothered by the topic.

"Tsumugi was the mastermind of Danganronpa V3," Sho said. "I was the director. They may sound similar, but they are in fact different jobs."

"What the fuck is the difference?" Miu asked irritatedly.

"Tsumugi was the one responsible for the killing game," Sho explained. "She ran it, planned the executions, worked with Monokuma, she even wrote your characters." A ripple of discomfort could be felt viscerally through the group at the word 'characters'. "However, I was in charge of the cameras. Of the Nanokumas. Of what content was shown to the audience, in what order. I dug through hours upon hours of content to determine what the audience would take the most enjoyment in. What was the most entertaining. Tsumugi may have been the reason there was a killing game, but I was the reason there was an audience."

Kaito could feel the hatred rolling off his classmates in waves now. No one was hiding their disdain as Sho explained her actual responsibilities in Team Danganronpa. And of course, just like she had been all day, Sho seemed unaffected by their obvious hostility. As if she were untouchable.

"Okay then. I'll ask it," Shuichi, seemingly making a decision, leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. The glare he shot towards Sho, it was the angriest Kaito had ever seen from him. "Where is she?"

"Tsumugi? Nowhere you need to worry about," Sho waved him off.

"Like hell we don't have to worry!" Miu scoffed.

"Right! What if she comes back and tries to hurt one of us?!" Tenko asked, putting a noticeably protective hand on Himiko's thigh.

"Tsumugi is far from this hospital," Sho said. "You have no need to concern yourself with her."

Kaito wasn't sure if he was willing to believe her. Was it really so simple? Was Tsumugi so far away, never to be seen again? It left him feeling uneasy. Could it possibly be true?

"Why are you telling us this?" Ryoma asked skeptically as the chatter subsided.

"Well, Kokichi figured out this was a show long before we ever planned on revealing it to you guys," Sho nodded at Kokichi. She was still utterly calm, seemingly unfazed even as she admitted to her plan falling apart. "So, we saw no reason to continue the charade."

"And what now?" Kirumi asked. "Now that we know, what are we supposed to do? Follow along with this post-season special like good little actors?"

Sho sighed, unimpressed. "No, no. Since Kokichi had figured it out, I'm afraid there's just no more entertainment value left to pull from your cast. So, we are done."

The room, for once, went silent. Maki was the first to speak, breathless. "We're done?"

"Yes. After today, you will all be free to go," Sho explained. "This will be the end of Danganronpa V3 and the post-game special. You will all be given your participation checks, and be sent on your way."

Maki's eyes narrowed, and she inched closer to the door, clearly skeptical. Tenko, Himiko, Angie, and Gonta all began to chatter with excitement. Miu had shot up eagerly, grinning over at Kokichi. When Kaito had glanced over, he saw that Kokichi's expressionless mask had not slipped, not yet.

"Thank you all very much," Sho continued. "You have been an excellent cast. We wish you well in the future, and hope to see you return soon."

The chatter halted like a record scratch. "Return?" Shuichi breathed, looking confused and just a bit terrified. Sho looked unfazed.

"Yes. You are all invited to apply for Danganronpa Season 54. It is sure to be our most interesting season yet."

Season...54.

Kaito felt Kokichi tense up. The room was deathly silent, staring in Sho in absolute bewilderment. Kokichi's hand twitched. And then it twitched again. Kaito noticed Kokichi's breath get caught in his chest, and he glanced over in worry. The boy's stare was blank, hazy. As if he wasn't looking at Sho, or anyone, anymore. The aura around him was different. Darker. Distant. Kokichi was here, but he looked...far, far away. Kaito's heart stopped, as if it had knew what was going to happen before he did.

Then, Kokichi doubled over and collapsed face-first off the couch, twitching and writhing in another grand mal seizure.

Chapter Text

Things had started to get weird around ten minutes into the meeting.

Before anything else, Kokichi had started to notice the lights in the room flickering. Dark spots peppered his vision as the room ever-so-slightly dimmed and lit back up. However, no one else seemed to notice. No one mentioned, or even looked up at, the lights. Why was no one saying anything?

Kokichi had better keep quiet.

He tried to focus back in on the conversation with Dr. Sho, ignoring the dark spots in the corners of his eyes. It was hard to hear her voice, or anyone's, over the buzzing sound that only seemed to grow louder with time. Perhaps it was the sound of the lights flickering. Perhaps it was something else.

His mouth tasted like blood.

The first time he heard the sound of a hydraulic press slamming down, he flinched wildly, catching the attention of Kaito beside him. No one else had reacted, except to his flinch. So, Kokichi brushed it off. Tried to ignore it. The rattle of the press still shook in his bones, the percussion mellowing down like the aftermath of a rock concert.

The lights flickered. The room buzzed. His heart

raced.

He barely noticed as his hand shot out to grab Kaito's thigh, suddenly gripped with a wild feeling of fear. God, it was all-consuming. Coming from everywhere.

Panic.

Panic.

Panic!

WHY?!

He tried to fight off the feeling himself. What was there to panic for? What was causing this...visceral of a feeling? Like his heart was going to race so fast it was going to come bursting out of him, rising up his throat and rolling off his tongue and onto the floor. Panic so intense that his skin prickled. He wanted to claw at it, to pick, to scratch his skin right off, just to get rid of that feeling. Fear, fear, fear, under his skin, into his bones, into his lungs, into his

Stomach, oh god, he was going to be sick.

He sat still.

Terror, or pain, or something else boiled in his stomach.

Something far beyond unease, far beyond anxiety, was gripping at him and dragging him down. Down into some dark, swirling sea in his subconscious. A terror so dramatic, so intense, so unfounded god get it together Kokichi!

Kaito was asking about him. Asking what was wrong. He didn't know. He didn't know.

As quickly as it had came, the feeling of panic started to disappear. To leave him, like it was melting away. Rolling off his body in waves, in droves, to infect some other poor soul who was killed a long long time ago.

He was supposed to be dead.

Relief didn't come, even as the panic subsided. An indifferent kind of numbness took over him instead. He tried to snarl, tried to make snide remarks. He had always been good at putting on a mask, even as he fell apart on the inside.

Numb, numb, numb, through his fingers and toes and up his limbs and

CLANG.

The press again. Slamming down, somewhere behind him, somewhere beyond him. No one else flinched. It was loud, thunderous. The steel foot of a metallic God stomping down onto the executioner's iron platform. A distant splat of a criminal, a liar, a monster who died a long time ago.

Oh god, now people were talking to him. He could hardly hear them over the reverberations of the press, the press, the press. The panic, the numb, the flickering lights.

How? How? How did Kokichi figure it out? Patience wearing so thin it may as well be a spider's thread, Kokichi tried to answer. But he had been through too much. He had died. He had woken up again. He had lost control of his body. He had lost control of his identity. He got punched in the eye by a countertop, he got stabbed in the hand by a scalpel, and his idiot friends had never figured out this was a show and

"my god does seriously no one hear that?!"

CLANG.

Metal. Thunder. Crunch. Splat.

No, no, put the mask back on. They can't see you fall apart. Kaito can't see you fall apart.

Shuichi keeps talking.

And Kokichi rockets out of his own body.

Suddenly, he was hovering above everybody, looking down on himself. He looked so pathetic, sitting there between Kaito and Miu like an invalid who can't even sit up by himself.

He was floating. He was above, looking below at the room from an entirely new angle. It was natural and wild and real and completely wrong.

He could see Maki, standing guard by the door. He could see Angie, sitting far away from Korekiyo. He could see Ryoma, sinking into the plastic beanbag chair. He could see Gonta, standing protectively over Kirumi like a giant green knight. He could see Shuichi, standing and fighting with Sho. He could see Kaito, one arm loosely wrapped behind Kokichi's own body, subtle and discreet and yet so, so protective.

He could see his own body.

Why was he floating above his own body?

Was he finally dead, for real?

Suddenly, Kokichi fell back down into himself like a drop slide.

And the world went black.

The room exploded in worry as Kokichi continued to seize on the floor. His eyes had rolled to the back of his head, body twitching and shaking uncontrollably, facing turning blue. Kaito had already shot up to his feet, Miu not far behind.

"W-What's going on?!" Himiko shrieked, stumbling back quite a few steps. Kaito knelt beside Kokichi's seizing body, and Miu knelt on the other side.

"It's a seizure," Kirumi explained, wasting no time in hoisting herself up with her crutches. "Someone start a stopwatch."

"On it," Ryoma messed around with an old-fashioned digital watch around his tiny wrist.

"Don't get too close, Miu, Kaito," Kirumi warned, crutching over to them as fast as she could. "You don't want to get hit by him."

Kaito watched in horror as once again, Kokichi's body was out of his control. He twitched and jerked like he was possessed, and everyone was clearly freaking out for it.

"What the hell is going on?" Maki demanded, suddenly hovering above Kaito. She looked furious, but Kaito knew better than that. She was worried. For Kokichi, of all people. "This has happened before?"

"Unfortunately," Rantaro was one of the few who was managing to stay calm right now. He approached Kaito and put a hand on his shoulder. "The doctors think it's a side effect of his body getting destroyed in the simulation."

"The best thing to do is to keep an eye on the time and stay out of his way," Kirumi explained, clearly having been trained for this before, somewhere in her fake maid memories. "Ryoma, let me know if this goes over five minutes."

"Sure. Thirty seconds, right now," Ryoma's eyes didn't leave his watch, his small body tense with concern.

"Seizures can be caused by high amounts of stress. Looking at him, I imagine he's been through his fair share," Kirumi said, studying Kokichi with a small, concerned frown. Kaito couldn't help but agree. She didn't know the half of it, but with the black eye, bleeding hand, and still-paralyzed legs, Kokichi's body has gone through plenty of stress. The reveal of Danganronpa continuing must have been the straw that broke the camel's back.

Danganronpa continuing. In all his worry for Kokichi, he had completely looked over that.

Shit.

So all they did, it meant nothing?

God, Dr. Sho wasn't even fazed by anything they did.

Kokichi's body settled, the twitching slowing to a complete stop. But he didn't wake up.

"One minute," Ryoma said, and Kaito couldn't believe it. One minute? That felt...that felt like a goddamn lifetime.

"He should rest. Can someone help me take him back to his room?" Kirumi asked. "And he likely will not remember the events leading up to his seizure."

"You mean...?" Kaito gasped.

"We'll have to explain everything again," Kirumi finished for him, looking grim.

"As much as I wish I could help, I'm afraid my expertise lies elsewhere," Sho suddenly spoke up, rising from her chair. She was completely unfazed by Kokichi's seizure. "I will call some nurses to attend to Kokichi, while I finish some last-minute paperwork to officially get you all released from Team Danganronpa's custody."

That sounded like something to celebrate, but Kaito was in no mood. He shifted so he was kneeling in front of Kokichi protectively, between him and Sho. "No nurses," he demanded. "I don't want any of you touching him. We can handle this ourselves."

"I'd normally disagree, but having heard of your medical team's incompetence, they sound greatly unqualified to deal with Kokichi," Kirumi said, not hiding the ice in her tone. "I am perfectly capable of handling this myself, thank you."

"If you insist," Sho nodded, not caring to put up much of a fight.

"I should have seen this coming," Kirumi tutted to herself, looking over Kokichi. She especially seemed focused on his injured hand, making sure he didn't make it any worse during the seizure. "He certainly was behaving strangely, I should have noticed the warning signs."

I didn't know they were warning signs, Kaito thought dismally, recalling the strange mood swings, the audible hallucinations of the press, the sudden, unexplainable terror. We should have been more careful. I never should have let Kokichi go off alone. I never should have left him vulnerable to attack from Maki.

No, no, Kaito didn't blame Maki. He couldn't blame Maki. Sure, his concussion and his stab wound were probably huge contributors to the seizure, but Maki had been isolated. Practically brainwashed.

No, the only people to blame here were Team Danganronpa.

And himself.

"He needs to go back to his room," Kirumi pulled him out of his thoughts. "But I can't carry him there."

"Gonta could help," Gonta spoke up, wringing his big hands together nervously. Kirumi shot him a warm, but hesitant look.

"I appreciate the offer, but..."

"I got him, big guy," Kaito stood up to pat Gonta on the shoulder. Gonta looked down at him, surprised, and Kaito tried on his signature, confident smile. It felt wrong, like a mask that didn't quite fit. This had been much easier, in the simulation. "We don't want to stress him out too much when he wakes up. Besides, it looks like we got a couple people here who need some cheering up," he added in a conspiratorial whisper, nodding his head towards Himiko, who was still staring in horror at Kokichi's prone body. "Think I can leave that up to you?"

"Y-Yes!" Gonta straightened up. "Gonta- erm, I will help! I won't let you down."

"I know you won't," and Kaito's smile felt more genuine, then. He turned around and kneeled back down beside Kokichi, scooping him up into his arms. "Are you good to follow us, Kirumi?"

"Yes," Kirumi was already by his side, leaning heavily on her crutches.

"I'm coming as well," Maki said with no room for debate.

Kokichi shifted in Kaito's arms, roused by the movement. Kaito was shocked to see Kokicki's eyelids already fluttering open, his exhausted gaze falling immediately on him. His lips parted, looking like he wanted to say something, but in his exhaustion, no words came out.

"C'mon, 'Kich," Kaito whispered warmly, the familiar feeling of fondness spreading in his chest. Kokichi's eyes fluttered closed again, and he leaned his head onto Kaito's chest, tender, gentle, and so tired. "Get some rest, hm?"

Kokichi's only response was a tired sigh. Kaito glanced over at Kirumi.

"It's okay for him to rest, right?" he whispered. Kirumi smiled, an unrecognizable but not unkind emotion crossing her features. She looked like she knew something Kaito didn't.

"Of course. It's ideal. Let's get him back to his room."

"Should I-?" Shuichi moved, but Maki put out a hand to stop him.

"No. You have bigger things to worry about."

Like Danganronpa 54.

Shuichi bit his lip, shooting Kokichi a hesitant look. Then, he looked back at Maki, and his expression softened. He reached out for her, putting an amicable hand on her elbow.

"It's good to see you, Maki."

Kaito's heart warmed as he saw an exasperated smile flicker across Maki's lips. Her eyes pinched with endearment.

"Good to see you too."

With that, Kirumi, Maki, and Kaito all returned to Kokichi's room, leaving Gonta to help out their distressed classmates and Shuichi to figure out what to do about Danganronpa. Shuichi was so great, Kaito was certain he could figure it out.

Himiko wasn't the only one who was clearly rattled by Kokichi's seizure, on top of the disheartening news. Tenko had a dark, pensive look on her face, one arm wrapped securely around Himiko's shoulders. She was staying uncharacteristically quiet about the whole thing. Kaede was already gripping Miu's forearms, trying to get the inventor to breathe and calm down. Rantaro was frowning at the door, clearly still worried about Kokichi, but not wanting to overcrowd his room. Shuichi was silent, hand covering his mouth, eyebrows furrowed deeply in thought.

Gonta took a deep breath and approached Himiko first, kneeling down and putting a supportive hand on her tiny shoulder. "Hey, Himiko," he said carefully, trying to avoid the Tarzan-like speech they wrote him with. "Kokichi will be okay. Kirumi said he will just be tired, and we trust Kirumi, right?"

Himiko sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve before nodding. "Y-Yes. We do."

"You're being very brave, Himiko," Tenko added, coming out of her deep thought. "I just thought I'd never see...someone like him..."

"Kokichi is our friend," Gonta fiddled with his fingers. "It is hard to see friends that way."

"I don't know about 'friend'," Tenko scoffs a little, though still looking concerned. "But it was definitely scary."

"Miu?" Gonta looked over his shoulder at the inventor, who was still being consoled by Kaede. "Are you feeling okay?"

Miu swallowed and nodded as Kaede looped her arm through hers. "Yeah," she hissed. "Just freaked."

"Angie?" Gonta looked over at the artist, though Angie was busy staring at the wall, smiling to herself in a discomforting sort of way. The smile looked plastic over her face.

"I think...Angie will..." Angie started her sentence twice, trailing off without a twitch in her smile. "I want to leave now. Dr. Sho said we can leave now." And with that, Angie walked out of the room, head held high.

"Angie, wait!" Shuichi was shaken out of his reverie, reaching out for her. "What about-?" He didn't finish his sentence, instead looking over his shoulder at Korekiyo. Whatever closure Angie had been trying to find, that was clearly the furthest from her mind now. "You okay, Korekiyo?" he asked. "She wanted to see you, but..."

Korekiyo startled out of whatever trance he had gone into, piercing eyes shooting towards Shuichi. "Oh. Me?" he asked. His voice still had the mask of calmness that it usually did, but Shuichi recognized the distraction underneath it. "Whatever for?"

"Closure, probably," Tenko mumbled to herself, subconsciously pulling Himiko a little closer into her side. She was noticeably not looking in Korekiyo's direction. "Or safety."

Despite not being subtle in her cautious behavior, Korekiyo seemed to not be offended. In fact, he hardly seemed to be paying attention, instead staring at the chair Sho once sat in. "I worry for Kokichi," he said, not quite to anyone in the room. "I don't want people to...despite what you..." whatever he had been saying Korekiyo didn't finish it. Instead, his eyes snapped back to Shuichi. "I'm sorry, were you saying something?"

Shuichi frowned. But before he could investigate any further, there was a rustling from the beanbag chair. Ryoma was standing up, looking no more tired than he usually did.

"Well. I'll go check on Angie," he sighed.

"You doin' okay, Ryoma?" Shuichi asked.

"Well, can't say I'm thrilled about Danganronpa continuing. Sounds like this world's got a ways to-" he cut himself off with a small scowl, realizing he was about to say his catchphrase but catching himself at the last moment. "Sounds like the world hasn't given up on the killing game yet. But, I'm no hero," he shrugged, turning and walking towards the door. "Not my job to fix it, if the world is so broken, it wants Danganronpa to exist."

"But-!" Shuichi tried, but Ryoma was already out the door before he could come up with a good objection. His shoulders dropped. Ryoma was right, in his own, melancholic way. The world must be broken. And it wasn't their job to fix it.

But god, was there anyone that could?

Shuichi startled as he felt a hand land on his shoulder. He looked up at Rantaro who was wearing a convincingly comforting smile, as usual. "We can figure this out," he said gently.

"Y-Yeah!" Himiko stuttered from her spot on the floor, under Tenko's arm. "We stood up to Tsumugi, we can stand up to these guys too! They're just more bullies, r-right, Shuichi?" she looked up at Shuichi hopefully at the end of her sentence, and Shuichi couldn't bring himself to return her gaze.

"That's right, Himiko!" Gonta said as cheerfully as possible.

"I didn't kill anyone," Korekiyo murmured, to himself. He curled up in his chair, bowing his head and weaving his fingers into his hair, as if he could hide from the world. "It's not real."

"Can we really stand up to a company that's loved by the whole world?" Tenko asked, quietly, as if it weren't meant for anyone else to hear.

"I didn't!" Korekiyo snapped at no one.

"What's going to happen when we leave?" Miu asked hoarsely, clinging to Kaede. "How messed up is this world they're just releasing us in?!"

Kaede responded to just her in sloppy sign language, which Shuichi did not understand. Judging by Miu closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, it was probably something along the lines of Don't panic.

"Shuichi?" Himiko asked again, and Shuichi squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he closed them hard enough, he could pretend he wasn't here. In this hospital, in this room, with these traumatized ghosts who are looking to him for answers.

When they got back to his room, Kaito gently laid Kokichi down in his own bed. Once again, the small boy's skin was blue, face lax and unmoving in a deep sleep. Kaito pursed his lips, half-smiling as he brushed a strand of hair out of Kokichi's face tenderly.

"He's going to be exhausted," Kirumi said as Maki pulled up a chair for her to settle into beside Kokichi's bed. "We'll let him rest, and then we can discuss anything he might've forgotten."

"Like Danganronpa 54," Kaito muttered darkly. Kirumi didn't respond, but her lips pursing was enough of an affirmation.

"I don't understand how this shit is legal," Maki grumbled, arms crossed, standing a safe distance away from Kokichi's bed. It still seemed like she wanted to keep her distance. For guilt for hurting the boy or for still not trusting him, Kaito wasn't sure. Maybe both. "If it can cause something like this, how can anyone still allow the simulation to continue? Not to mention the company held me hostage. Isolation is a form of torture. I can handle it- well, the character they wrote can handle it, but that should still be wildly illegal."

"I wish I had an explanation for you," Kirumi sighed, running her hands through Kokichi's hair. Kaito wasn't sure what she was doing until she found something, pulling back and revealing a small clump of dried blood. "I would think this would be from his fall, but it's on the back of his head, and he fell forward," she explained. "Not to mention it's dry. How did Kokichi get a wound on the back of his head?"

Maki winced, out of eyesight from Kirumi.

"He fell saving Maki from the nurses," Kaito came up with a quick, hopefully believable lie. "The little bastard overexerted himself again."

Maki shot Kaito a look. Not surprised, per se, but more incredulous. A 'why would you defend me?' kind of look. One that Kaito was very familiar with, coming from her.

"A head injury could have been one of the many causes of his seizure," Kirumi said, looking very unhappy with the state Kokichi was in. "I would chain this boy to the bed, if I didn't know he would find away to slip right out." Kaito didn't necessarily believe her little threat, but didn't want to keep pushing her to find out. Kirumi's hands travelled down to Kokichi's poorly-bandaged hand. "You bandaged him, right Kaito?"

Kaito tensed, ready for judgement. "Y-Yes."

"It's not bad," Kirumi said, sensing his anxiety. "Given what you had to work with, and that you were probably in a rush. No doubt, your astronaut training came in handy."

"Oh, uh," Kaito rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, feeling his lips tug upwards at the praise. "Thank you."

"That being said, I think we can do better, now that we are back in his room," Kirumi added, starting to unravel the bloody cloth. With his wound exposed, she studied his hand. "Hm. Through and through," she muttered. "Looks like a very small, very sharp blade. This is a clean cut, expert even. I would even believe it was made by a medical tool." She looked up at the two students behind her. "Understandable, if he was attacked by nurses. But I don't think that they would be so expert enough to leave such a clean wound through Kokichi's hand, especially if he was fighting back. It would had to have been someone good at hitting moving targets, and knowing the soft, sensitive spots in the palm of the hand to pin a blade through."

Kaito and Maki tensed under her gaze. Kirumi was damn good.

"This wasn't the nurses," Kirumi whispered. "This was you, wasn't it, Maki?"

The room went still, silent. Kaito turned desperately to Maki, eyes wide, silently begging for her to defend herself. Maki's expression froze, staring down at Kokichi.

She nodded.

Kirumi sighed, having expected that answer, slowly lowering Kokichi's injured hand back to the bed. "I hope I will get a full explanation. I am rather tired of being left out of the loop." She shot a knowing look in Kaito's direction. "I know you've been conspiring with Kokichi this whole time. And I've given him the space to do so, but the situation has changed now. We are not in the safety of a public hospital like I thought."

"Are you saying...?" Kaito trailed off.

"Whatever it is you have been up to," Kirumi looked up at him with determination. "I want in."

"K-Kirumi!" Kaito exclaimed in surprise. "I'll be honest, at this rate I'm not even sure what it is we've been up to." He glanced down at Kokichi. "The little twerp keeps things close to the vest, you know? We were investigating the hospital, and Kokichi..." Kaito trailed off, suddenly looking dejected as realization fell upon him. "Kokichi was revealing that this was all another tv show. But I guess it was all for nothing, huh? Danganronpa is still happening."

Shit. Was there anything they could do now? Despite Shuichi's best efforts, the ratings were good enough for the killing game to continue. And even if they were allowed to leave, would it really be worth it to enter a despairing world, full of dead-eyed people who love to watch suffering on their tvs like it's just another cartoon?

"This world is cruel," Maki spoke up from behind them, glaring at the wall and at something far, far away. She was mindlessly rubbing her burnt hand, clearly thinking about something neither Kirumi or Kaito were there for. "I never got to see it, I was captured before I fully escaped. But if this world can make a killing game so popular... That people will get excited and binge-watch the aftermath of that killing game? It's not a world I want to be in." Her expression somehow grew even darker. "We've all been stuck in here, suffering for their entertainment. Again. I think I almost preferred the simulation, where I thought the world might be good, might be just. Back to a world where I didn't know my agony was for someone's enjoyment. They watched..." her voice wavered, and her eyes slowly trailed from the wall to the floor. "They watched me in isolation for weeks... They watched me..." she glanced over at Kokichi, looking forlorn, before quickly catching herself and schooling her expression back to neutral. "Sorry."

Kaito grit his teeth. "Shit!" Before he knew what he was doing, instead of channeling his anger through his fist against a wall, he instead wrapped a tight arm around Maki's shoulder, almost aggressively pulling her into his side. Maki yelped in a hilariously, uncharacteristically adorable way, tensing under his grip. "Shit, Maki Roll. You didn't deserve what these bastards did to you. And I won't ever let them hurt you again."

Maki's face when bright red, and she ducked her head, fiddling with a strand of her long, loose hair. "Shut up, idiot. Do you want to die?"

Kaito chuckled, a small smile tugging at his lips despite it all. He actually missed hearing that strange little catchphrase.

A moan from the bed warned them at Kokichi was starting to wake up. Kaito stepped forward eagerly, and the two girls turned to face the bed.

"Kokichi," Kaito breathed with an air of relief. Kokichi's eyes fluttered open, landing immediately on Kaito. "Hey, bud," Kaito whispered carefully, like talking to an easily-startled stray. "How are you feeling?"

Instead of clarity, Kokichi's eyes just widened with confusion. Kaito felt his stomach drop as Kokichi looked across the room in shock. He startled when his eyes fell on Maki, gasping inwardly, and flinching away. "W-Wait," Kokichi breathed, his voice raspy and hoarse. He tried to sit up, tried to crawl away, no doubt, but his body refused to cooperate. His chest started to heave in panic, and his eyes darted over to Kirumi. His face paled, and his jaw dropped. Like...

Like he had seen a ghost.

"W-What's going...?" Kokichi tried to ask, but his breaths started to grow faster. He wheezed, face growing pale as he started to hyperventilate.

"Woah, woah, 'Kichi, I got you," Kaito lurched forward, grabbing Kokichi's uninjured hand as tightly as he could without hurting him. "Everything is okay."

"No!" Kokichi snapped breathily, eyes darting between Kirumi and Maki, unsure who to be more scared of in the moment, the assassin trying to kill him, or the ghost who died a long time ago. "I'm dead? I'm dead!"

"You're not dead!" Kaito snapped, quickly and easily losing control of his temper. He took a deep breath, eyebrow twitching. Now was not the time, but this was a pretty easy trigger for him, apparently.

Kokichi was looking up at him now, eyes wide in confusion and fear. That wasn't the kind of expression Kokichi was supposed to wear. Kokichi, who was always twelve steps ahead of everybody. Kaito wished his could slide back on the mask of the Ultimate Supreme Leader. The mask that never showed fear, or regret. But they could never go back to that, could they? "D-Don't press the button," Kokichi whispered through shaky breaths, and Kaito's heart ached. He knew exactly what button he was talking about.

"Never," Kaito insisted, taking Kokichi's hand up and holding it to his chest. He leaned forward so that his forehead was hovering just and inch away from Kokichi's, and he let his eyes flutter closed. "I will never hurt you again, Kokichi."

"Don't," Kokichi whined, his eyes closing too. He pressed his face upwards, pushing his forehead against Kaito's. "Don't."

Kaito didn't want to move, didn't want to break away from the expression of trust that Kokichi was giving him. But they couldn't stay there, faces centimeters apart, with Maki and Kirumi still in the room, watching with caution. He squeezed Kokichi's hand and pulled away, opting instead to raise his other hand and cup Kokichi's face like it was precious. It was precious, he realized. God, Kokichi was so, so important to him. When did that happen? How long had this protective adoration been brewing inside him?

"You're safe," Kaito whispered. "Do you remember? You're not in the press, you're here with me, and Maki Roll, and Kirumi, and everybody else. They're alive, remember?"

Kokichi stared up at Kaito, and then finally, finally, some clarity seemed to return to his gaze. "I'm alive..." Kokichi murmured in awe, and Kaito could cry. Could. But won't. Instead, he cracked a smile, and a chuckle that was a little to dangerously close to a sob.

"You're alive."

Chapter Text

Kirumi helped Kokichi sit up in his bed, once he was less disoriented. He still had an air of confusion about him, as she fussed around the back of his head.

"I don't like the sign of this, Kokichi," she admitted, pulling away. "A head injury greatly increases your chances of a repeat seizure. You should stay in bed, for the time being."

"Yes, mom," Kokichi rolled his eyes.

"I mean it, Kokichi," Kirmui leaned over so she was looking him in the eyes this time. He shrunk away from her gaze, just slightly, but she stayed strong. "No more reckless actions from you. If you have a theory you would like to test out, or some secret plot you're cooking up in there, I would like to hear about it immediately. I want in on everything you're planning."

"So, what you're saying is..." Kokichi cocked an eyebrow. "You'd like to be my minion."

Kirumi sighed through her nose, even as Kaito chuckled. "Be careful, or you'll eventually collect the whole class as minions," he pointed out playfully, brushing back some of Kokichi's hair on instinct.

"Yes, well, not all of them," Kokichi shot a meaningful look up at Maki. "Maki-Maki still hasn't asked to join my organization, yet."

"We've spent a total of, like, ten minutes together since you found me," Maki scoffed, looking disbelieving and honestly even a little insulted. "And half of that time I spent attacking you. Besides," she suddenly looked away, bashfully tugging at her arm. "You don't want me as a minion."

"Yeah, you're right," Kokichi agreed easily, earning a glare from Kaito and an ashamed wince from Maki. "It takes a while for me to trust anyone with minion status. That means you too, mom," he looked back over at Kirumi. "Don't think I'll agree to making you a minion just because you asked so nicely."

Kirumi returned his cocky attitude with a deadpan expression. "I didn't ask that, I merely said I plan on helping you from here on out."

"Well, we don't need your help!" Kokichi brushed her off. "I have my own, elite team."

"Me and Miu?" Kaito questioned.

"Stop revealing the elite team!" Kokichi snapped.

"Kokichi, as entertaining as this is," Kirumi said in a tone that sounded like it was not very entertaining at all, "We need to discuss the events of today. I'm sure you're still a little confused."

"Nah, I remember everything!" Kokichi said cheerfully. "I even remember the day I was born! The uterus, once cavernous, had begun to grow cramped-"

"Ew, knock it off," Kaito gently shoved Kokichi's shoulder, which Kirumi looked none too happy about.

"So, you don't remember?" she asked. Kokichi's playful expression fell into one of annoyance.

"Fine, not really. I remember finding Maki-Maki, and then...kind of nothing after that," Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed. "Man, did I even get to do a big Maki-Maki reveal to the others?"

"Well, we were all certainly surprised to find her at the meeting," Kirumi admitted. "But that surprise was quickly...overshadowed."

"Meeting," Kokichi stated, clearly not remembering that part. Kaito winced, though he had been warned this would probably happen.

"Dr. Sho called in a meeting, but you had a seizure, and it had to abruptly end," Kirumi explained. "It's only natural for you not to remember the events leading up to your seizure. Sometimes, the whole day can go missing."

"Okay, then fill me in, minion-in-training," Kokichi started to sound annoyed, though Kaito knew that just meant he was anxious to have to be re-told how the day went.

Kaito, Maki, and Kirumi all looked at each other. Kokichi hated when people did that. Like he was outside of the know. Which, he supposed he was. But he still didn't have to be happy about it. Some silent decision made, Kaito actually shifted so he could sit on the bed beside Kokichi. Kokichi looked a bit surprised, but otherwise unbothered with Kaito wrapped a gentle, loose arm around the middle of his back, a combination of comfort and support.

"Well, now I know it's going to be bad news," Kokichi said, blinking up at Kaito.

"You just...didn't have the greatest reaction, last time," Kaito explained. "I'm just being careful."

"You're beating around the bush," Kokichi pointed out, irritated. "Just spill already."

"Kokichi," Kirumi clasped her hands together, taking in a prepared breath. "Danganronpa has been cleared for a fifty-fourth season."

Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed, and nothing more.

"The killing game is going to continue. Despite the efforts of Shuichi, Maki, and Himiko, it seems the audience isn't done with Danganronpa yet," Kirumi explained. Her voice was steady, controlled. As if she were trying to be gentle. But there was a layer of ice brewing underneath, that gave away that the former maid was furious about the whole thing.

Kokichi took it in stride.

His gaze lowered slightly, and he heaved a deep breath. The three other students watched him stare at his lap, taking in the information and computing it. Kaito's arm remained around his back, ready to support Kokichi if he needed.

He didn't.

Eventually, Kokichi, put his hand on Kaito's arm, looking back up. Kaito looked surprised, but Kokichi just gave him a smile.

"I suppose someone owes Tsumugi a congratulations."

Kaito winced, while Kirumi's eyebrows furrowed. Maki's expression darkened. "Is that all you have to say?" she asked.

"What more did you want me to say?" Kokichi asked innocently. "Or, did you want me to react with another seizure again?"

"Damn it, Kokichi!" Kaito snapped nervously. "Obviously, no one wanted that!"

"I just figured you would have more to say," Maki said. "Considering you were fighting the killing game so hard."

Kokichi's smile darkened, just a touch. "Yes, I suppose you did figure that out near the end of the game, didn't you?"

"Shuichi did," Maki corrected. "So yeah, color me surprised. I was expecting a bigger reaction."

"Sorry to disappoint!" Kokichi beamed.

"Kokichi..." Maki groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose while squeezing her eyes shut.

"Hey, I may not remember much from today, but I remember our agreement, Maki-Maki," Kokichi pointed out, and she shot him an unimpressed look.

"Outa."

"Yeah, you're going to have to explain the nicknames at some point, guys," Kaito spoke up.

"I will, beloved," Kokichi promised passively.

"With the post season special revealed and over, they are allowing us to leave this place," Kirumi explained to Kokichi. "All of us. Once Sho has all the documents in order, all we have to do is sign."

"And get that fat Danganronpa check!" Kokichi cheered. "You can probably buy a whole bunch of cool shit with that kinda cash!"

"It is certainly a lot of money," Kirumi pinched her chin. "We will be well set to enter the real world. Though it does concern me, we have no idea what the real world is even like. But still, it has to be better than staying here."

"I wonder what's waiting for us on the outside," Maki mused, mostly to herself.

"Probably nothing good," Kirumi muttered in response.

"Well, if you're so worried about the outside world, you can always sign up for Danganronpa 54," Kokichi pointed out cheekily. Kirumi didn't bother to hide her disgust.

"Don't even joke about that, Kokichi."

Kokichi just grinned his usual, shit-eating grin. "Alright, then. Scary outside world it is."

The group fell silent, undoubtably thinking of their own variations of whatever fucked-up world awaited them once they left this hospital. What kind of world was inhabited by people who green-lit another killing game? An audience that eagerly watched a bunch of children be unknowingly recorded against their will? An audience that finds entertainment in their torment?

Kokichi spoke up.

"Would you ladies give Kaito and I a moment of privacy, pretty please?" Kokichi batted his eyelashes. Both girls looked unimpressed.

"And why should we do that?" Maki asked, clearly skeptical.

"Because we're gonna make out," Kokichi stated, and Kaito reeled back, face reddening. "I mean, if you wanted to stay and watch-"

The objections all came in unison.

"Liar!"

"That's inappropriate and unnecessary, Kokichi."

"Dude!"

Kokichi's shit-eating grin only grew, and Maki let out a long suffering sigh. "Fine. Clearly, he doesn't want us here. I don't need to sit here and listen to more of his obvious lies."

"I suppose that's fine, for now," Kirumi lifted herself out of her chair, pushing up on her crutches. Maki's hand shot out to help steady her, and Kirumi smiled in thanks. "I wanted to discuss some matters with you privately anyway, Maki," Kirumi added warmly. "If that's alright."

Maki's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "I mean, I guess."

"Thanks, girlies!" Kokichi waggled his fingers as Maki assisted Kirumi out the door. Both girls looked over their shoulders, shooting Kokichi and Kaito one final glance before letting the door close behind them. As soon as the latch clicked in, Kokichi let out a sigh, falling backwards slightly so he was leaning his weight against the head of the bed, smiling dimly at the door. Kaito frowned.

"Okay, man. What's up? Why did you actually want them to leave?"

Kokichi's dim smile wavered, and then faded completely. His eyes flickered over to Kaito. "It's true?"

Kaito winced, knowing exactly what Kokichi was talking about. "It is," he said apologetically. "I'm sorry, man."

Kokichi heaved an unreadable sigh, sharply looking the other direction, so Kaito couldn't see his expression. However, the shakiness in his exhale was telling enough. At the least, Kokichi was frustrated. At the most, terrified, maybe. Or furious.

"Shit," he hissed between clenched teeth. "Shit!" Again, louder.

"'Kich-" Kaito tried.

"Goddamnit!" Kokichi suddenly reeled back, twisting his body around. Kaito jumped as he watched Kokichi, to the best of his ability, chuck a pen from the bedside table at the wall. It didn't make it, his throw wasn't strong enough.

"Kokichi, calm down!" Kaito exclaimed. "You shouldn't stress yourself-!"

"Fuck you!" Kokichi spat, venomously, and far too similar to how he reacted when he exploded on Kaito weeks ago. "I'm pissed, and I'll throw what I want!" This time, a half-full dixie cup went flying, splashing the smallest amount of water onto the floor.

"'Kichi, I know you're mad-"

"Mad?! Mad?! I'm beyond mad, I'm-!" Kokichi cut himself off, and at first Kaito wasn't sure why.

Kokichi had half hazardly grabbed another item from the table to try and chuck at the wall, only to freeze. Lips slightly ajar, he panted a little desperately. Forcefully exhaling through his nose, his eyes trailed over to the item in his hand.

The screwdriver.

Instead of throwing it, his hand slowly lowered, bringing the screwdriver in towards his body so he could stare down at it. His tight, white-knuckled grip on it relaxed slightly for a moment. Then, with a deciding sigh, Kokichi grasped it tight again, lowering it into his lap and looking up at the tv across the way. It was off now, screen completely blank, but clearly Kokichi's mind was elsewhere. Kaito watched in awe and confusion as Kokichi regarded the powered-off tv with far too much conviction.

"Kich?" Kaito prodded gently, not wanting to interrupt but surely not wanting all this stress to cause another seizure. "You with me?"

"Somewhat," Kokichi mumbled, still staring at the tv. "My normally brilliant brain is...a tad fuzzy, at the moment."

"You hit your head," Kaito pointed out. "Twice."

"Yeah, that might have something to do with it," Kokichi agreed distractedly. Then, he suddenly turned to Kaito, eyes newly alight with determination and no small amount of anger. Fury, but it wasn't directed towards Kaito. "Kaito, I'll need you to hold onto this for me," he held out the screwdriver. Kaito accepted it hesitantly, giving Kokichi a confused look.

"O-Okay...?"

"And I'll need you to keep an eye on Miu, and that Kiiboy chip," Kokichi added. "And listen, because this is the most important part."

"Okay, what is it?"

"I need you and Miu to sign those release papers and get the hell out of this hospital."

Kaito reeled back in surprise. "N-Not without you! Kokichi, I don't like how you're talking-"

"Listen, Kaito," Kokichi urged, his gaze searing into him. It was the look in his eye that made Kaito freeze. That look meant something. It meant Kokichi was meaning more than what he was saying. "Sign those papers, and get out. I promise, it will all be okay."

Kaito blinked. "I will, but why are you telling me this?"

"Because," Kokichi stated. "I'm going to pass out."

Kaito's expression shattered into worry. "W-Wait, 'Kichi!"

Kokichi was falling backward, the world dimming. He could see Kaito lunge for him, arms outstretched. Just like before in Maki's room, he wasn't sure if Kaito caught him before he was totally unconscious.

Ah, the same silver room. Kokichi was standing in a metallic room with no door, and it felt familiar. He blinked at his reflection and, sure enough, the reflection started to move without him, ushering him to come closer. Kokichi heaved a sigh.

"This guy," he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Hi," Depressed Kokichi deadpanned from inside the metal wall.

"Y'know, I'm getting sick of all the lucid dreaming," Kokichi said, approaching the wall with his hands still in his pockets. "The symbolism is a little heavy-handed, and the fact that I know it's my brain coming up with it is making it worse. Bad writing, brain."

"Don't flatter yourself," Depressed Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed, looking somewhat frustrated. "Just because you're lucid dreaming doesn't mean you are controlling it."

"And who is? You?"

"Well, your subconscious is. But if you need to put a face to the blame, then you can use mine. It's probably the closest you'll get."

"Why am I back here, Depressed Kokichi?" Kokichi threw his arms out to the side, irritated. "I'm doing fine!"

Depressed Kokichi gave him a deadpan look. "Fine? Really?"

"I'm doing...better..." Kokichi mindlessly rubbed his own hand, before looking down and noticing it wasn't injured in this dream.

"You're still in that prison, you're more injured than before, Danganronpa has been renewed for another season and, oh no! You were written to care only about ending Danganronpa," Depressed Kokichi rattled off on his fingertips. Kokichi's eyebrow twitched.

"Sure, but I don't have to be that character anymore."

"Oh, is that what Kaito said?"

Kokichi's breath hitched, his eyes widening before he could school his reaction. Depressed Kokichi actually looked a little cocky at this, his lip pulling into a small smirk. "Do you really think you can move on from Danganronpa? That you can put it behind you?"

"Maybe."

"Bullshit!" Depressed Kokichi spat, growling.

Kokichi instinctively took a step back. This reflection was different this time. This wasn't... Depressed Kokichi.

"You can't put it behind you, you never can!" Furious Kokichi stabbed an accusing finger at Kokichi. "And if another killing game continues, and then another after that, and another, and another, will you really be able to sleep at night? Or will you stay awake, blaming yourself!"

"It's not my fault!" Kokichi snapped defensively. "It's not my fault that the world is so...so...fucked up that they want more killing games!"

"No, but it would be your fault if you rolled over and just accepted it," Furious Kokichi growled. "Everything you've worked for, everything you've sacrificed. You villainized yourself. People hate you. You can't walk," Furious Kokichi motioned down to Kokichi's legs, despite the fact that he was standing. "You died for this. Worse, you killed for this. Miu, Gonta, you killed them. You sacrificed so much. Is it really okay to let it end this way?"

Kokichi hesitated, jaw ajar. For once, he was speechless.

"If you want to let it all be for nothing, fine," Furious Kokichi spat. "Go and burrow in some hole and try to ignore all of the world's evils. But I don't think that's how Kokichi Oma rolls, is it?"

Kokichi's hesitation wavered, and his jaw set back into position, eyebrows furrowing.

"I think you've already made your decision," Furious Kokichi said, pulling back. Gonta was in the reflection now as well, watching from behind Furious Kokichi, looking as infuriatingly sympathetic as ever. Next to him was Miu, face white, lips blue, strangled with toilet paper like a goddamn joke. Ryoma, lungs full of water, because he had been too careless with the Monopads. Tenko, neck impaled and bleeding profusely, because he took part in that stupid ritual-trap. Rantaro, skull caved in, because he had been too slow, too distracted to stop Kaede from setting the trap in the library. All of the victims, all of the blackened, everyone who died on his watch, staring back at him from his reflection expectantly. Kaito was there too, blood dripping from his lips and down his jaw. Furious Kokichi spoke up again, on behalf of them all. "I just wanted to make sure you were willing to do what it takes. All that it takes."

"I know," Kokichi stated, staring them all down. "I'm ready."

Kokichi wasn't sure how long his surprise nap had been going on. But he had definitely been unconscious for a decent amount of time, because when his eyes opened, Kaito had left. Instead, waiting in Kaito's usual spot, was Rantaro.

Kokichi blinked.

Rantaro was still there.

So, not a hallucination.

"Rantaro?" Kokichi mumbled, his mouth tasting cottony. Rantaro glanced up at him, and smiled. Like all of Rantaro's smiles, it was relaxed, as if Kokichi hadn't yelled at him the last time he was in here.

"Hey. Good morning, Kokichi. How are you feeling?"

Kokichi's eyes stayed trained on Rantaro, as if he was waiting for something to happen. "...Fine."

"You hungry? I'm pretty sure it's been a long time since you've eaten, you should at least try to eat something," Rantaro lightly scolded.

"Is it really morning?"

Rantaro's smile slipped into a small look of surprise, lips parting slightly. "What?"

"You said 'good morning'," Kokichi stated, his expression carefully blank. "Is it really morning?"

"Oh, uh, no, sorry," Rantaro leaned back in his chair slightly. "Just saying it 'cause, well, you woke up."

So, same day then. Great. Kokichi shifted, planting his hands on the mattress and trying to push himself up to a sitting position. Rantaro leaned forward, presumably to help, but Kokichi immediately stopped to glare at him. Fine. Guess we're lying down, then.

"Where are my minions? Who put you in charge of babysitting the cripple?"

"Please don't word it like that," Rantaro released a long-suffering sigh, leaning back in his chair and tucking one knee to his chest, wrapping his arm around to keep it there. "And I'm here on my own terms, Kokichi. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm doing great, actually," Kokichi deadpanned. "Really had you all going there, with that 'ahh, oh no, he's having another seizure' schtick."

Rantaro's eyebrow actually twitched at that, which Kokichi took as a huge win. Any sign of irritation from the otherwise unshakably-calm guy was a win. "Kokichi, that's not funny."

"Agree to disagree, I find it hilarious."

"You seemed...mad," Rantaro noted. "While you were asleep. You kept frowning, like this," Rantaro pointed at his own face, contorting into a grimace. Kokichi frowned, irritated with the imitation.

"Maybe I am mad," Kokichi said, somewhat teasingly. "But why do you care?"

"Because even though you seem dead set on pushing me away, I'm still your friend," Rantaro pointed out, silencing Kokichi. "Maybe it's a little cocky of me to say, but I think I was even your first friend. Since you became 'Kokichi Oma', anyway. But I don't know, you know my memory is...unreliable."

"You're right," Kokichi deadpanned, and Rantaro looked surprised. "That was cocky to say." Rantaro's eager face fell into another frown.

"Kokichi, I'm worried about you," Rantaro admitted, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I mean, I wasn't, for a second. You and Kaito and Miu were getting along great, you were finally opening up. I was actually really excited, even if you were still giving me the silent treatment," he chuckled a bit. "But then the whole thing with Season 54- wait, you remember that, right?"

"Sure do," Kokichi deadpanned.

"Right, well, I didn't realize you were..." Rantaro motioned to Kokichi's body, as if that explained anything. "I know you, Kokichi. With news like this, I feel like you won't...sit still."

"There's no other way I can sit, Rantaro," Kokichi pointed out, face splitting into a cheeky smile.

"Fair, that was some bad wording," Rantaro sighed. He looked down for a moment, eyebrows furrowing, before looking back up at Kokichi. "I'm not giving up on you, Kokichi."

Kokichi blinked. "Huh?"

"I gave you space," Rantaro pointed out. "But with this new development...I don't want to anymore. So, I'm doing the Kaito Method."

"The Kaito Method?"

"Insist that I care about you so much that you'll eventually believe it," Rantaro explained, sounding proud of himself for coming up with it. "It's not really my style, but it clearly works for you."

"Hold on-"

"Kokichi," Rantaro grabbed Kokichi's hand before he could pull away. "I care about you. Even when you get mad at me, even when you scream at me to go away. I will keep caring about you."

"Stop-"

"I want to help you, and I'll do what I can to prove that," Rantaro barreled through. "I'm sticking by your side."

"Stooooop it!" Kokichi whined.

"No!" Rantaro smiled. "I won't. Sorry. But I care about you."

"This sounds like a love confession," Kokichi mumbled childishly, pouting. Rantaro chuckled and ruffled Kokichi's hair.

"It kinda is. But not romantically. Honestly, I'm not sure if I can love anybody romantically. But I know I have love in me. I love my sisters, so much, even if they don't exist. I love my friends. And I love you enough to not give up on you, and on our friendship, okay?"

"Rantarooo!" Kokichi ducked and gently swatted Rantaro's hand away from his hair. "Knock it off, you are being super duper cheesy. Makes me wanna vomit."

Rantaro smiled, unaffected by Kokichi's words. "Can I be a minion again? Please?"

Kokichi scoffed. "A lot of people have been asking to be minions, y'know. It's a very coveted spot."

"I'm not surprised," Rantaro was unwavering.

"Fine. I'll consider making you a minion again," Kokichi decided. "But you gotta prove it."

"Perfect, just tell me what to do," Rantaro agreed.

"Make sure Kaito leaves," Kokichi ordered. "Make sure he gets that check, and he gets out of here."

"Okay, I can do that," Rantaro raised an eyebrow. "But that's a pretty strange order."

"But an important one," Kokichi said. "It's not a minion's job to see the big picture, you just have to follow your leader blindly."

"Make sure he gets the check, huh?" Rantaro mused. "Alright. And while I'm doing that, what are you going to do?"

Instead of answering, Kokichi's face split into an evil smile, for the first time this whole conversation.

"You're going to do something reckless, aren't you?" Rantaro asked, sounding more disappointed than anything else. Kokichi tried to not let that waver the smile on his face.

"Well, can you blame me?" Kokichi let out a humorless chuckle. "It's in-character."

"I have a question."

Sho looked up in surprise at Kokichi, wheelchair and all, waiting in the doorway. She blinked, setting down her tablet and motioning for him to enter.

"Glad to see you awake."

"Knock that off," Kokichi scoffed, wheeling his way in with a great deal of effort. He grit his teeth as he settled himself right in front of Sho's desk and looked her dead in the eye. "Would I be able to walk, in Danganronpa 54?"

Sho's jaw dropped, and Kokichi reveled in finally getting a shocked reaction out of the otherwise calm "doctor". Damn, it feels good to subvert an expectation. "Would you be able to walk?"

"Yeah," Kokichi growled. "I can barely wheel myself around thanks to my muscle atrophy. I can drop into a seizure at any point, unprompted. I am weak, vulnerable, and actually pretty dizzy, but that's probably just the concussion."

"Concussion?"

"Oh, I know you saw the tapes. From Maki's room? You must have loved seeing that. After all, none of you came to stop me. Did I provide adequate drama for the show, finding and getting attacked by a savage Maki Roll?"

"Kokichi, you are admittedly confusing me," Sho clasped her hands together, leaning her elbows on her desk. "You sound very frustrated with Danganronpa."

"Oh, I'm livid," Kokichi said in far too casual a tone.

"But you're asking to go back in?" Sho questioned.

"It's a hypothetical!" Kokichi spat back defensively. "I am promising nothing!"

"Noted."

"Hy-po-thetically," Kokichi drawled out seriously. "If I were to enter the simulation again, would I be... fixed? The paralyzation, the seizures, that's all side effects of coming out of the simulation. What were to happen if I were to go back in?"

"Well, hypothetically," Sho responded. "You can be restored to your original health inside the simulation. But you would have your memories removed, you do understand that, right?"

"You mean the memory of being crushed to death?" Kokichi scoffed. "By being scorned and hated by my classmates, and then put on display at my weakest for the world's enjoyment? Yeah, screw those memories," he growled. He leaned forward in his wheelchair, hands clasping together and elbows resting on the armrests. He leveled her with a glare, both furious and determined at the same time. "Let me ask you something, 'Doctor' Sho. Does it seem like I have anything to lose?"

Sho raised an eyebrow. They stared each other down for a moment, before she sat up and leaned back in her seat, resting her forearms on the armrests. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"If there's any chance I can walk again," Kokichi said sincerely. "Then I want to take it. And maybe I'll even win your little game, this time."

Sho seemed to consider him for a moment. "I can get you some consent forms," she finally spoke up again, and a shot of thrill ran up Kokichi's spine. "You can read those over, and decide whether or not you'd like to make this hypothetical scenario a reality."

"Finally, you're being helpful, for a change," Kokichi's face split into a shit-eating grin, and it was met with only a calm smile.

"Like I said. I work in entertainment, not healthcare. I'll get those forms to you by end of day. And Kokichi," she walked around her desk, stopping in front of Kokichi's wheelchair, only bowing her head slightly to look at him. "If you do decide to sign on for season fifty four," she held out her hand. "I wish you good luck in the killing game."

Kokichi looked at her hand, then back up at her face. With another victorious smile, he held his hand out in return, shaking hers with an air of finality. "I believe in show business, they say 'break a leg'."

Chapter Text

I, Kokichi Oma, age 16, I THINK?, do give full consent to Team Danganronpa to use my name, likeness, and body in DANGANRONPA SEASON 54. In signing this contract, I do understand the physical and psychological risks of Danganronpa's Virtual Reality Simulator(TM), and I (contractee) claim full responsibility for any post-game damage caused to my body and being.

I do hereby allow Team Danganronpa to alter my memory, personality-

Kokichi's attention was torn away from his contract as the door to his hospital room slammed open thunderously. He looked up, hands twitching around the contract resting in his lap. Kaito stood in a wide stance in the doorway, breathless and disheveled. Kokichi merely raised an eyebrow.

"You need to go use the bathroom!"

The statement was so straightforward, it may has well have been a fact as easily observable as 'you have purple hair'. Kokichi blinked at Kaito, who was still standing with both hands gripping the doorframe.

"I...do?"

"Yes! Right now!" Kaito thrust his finger forward, pointing at Kokichi. His voice was loud, as if he were trying to hide a deeper emotion with volume alone. "And you need help to get there!"

"I mean, obviously?" Kokichi motioned to his paralyzed legs. Before he knew it, Kaito was over to his bed within a couple strides, scooping him up into his arms. Kokichi tried not to yelp as he was suddenly in the air, being carried towards the bathroom. The contract fluttered off his lap and was left behind as Kaito swooped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

"Want to explain yourself?!" Kaito thundered down at Kokichi, still cradled in his arms.

"Sure, if you'd put me down. I'd rather not explain my master plan while being held like a baby," Kokichi pointed out. Kaito growled, setting Kokichi down on the closed toilet, straightening up and crossing his arms.

"Just ran into Dr. Sho. She let slip that you had a consent contract for Danganronpa 54?!"

"Well, I wasn't necessarily going to keep it a secret," Kokichi admitted. "I was still thinking it over."

"Thinking it over?!"

Kokichi sighed. He knew that a decision like this would rile up someone as emotional as Kaito, and he had honestly expected this reaction. "There's a reason you brought me into the bathroom to scold me, isn't there? You wanted to be away from the cameras. You have to realize there's something more going on."

"Of course I know that!" Kaito snapped furiously. "I'm not an idiot! I know you wouldn't even think about going back in without a reason. So, it better be a damn good one. Now's the chance to explain yourself, 'Kichi."

Explain.

Explain.

Explain.

That's all Kaito wanted. He knew the instant Dr. Sho told him about Kokichi's plan to join Danganronpa 54 that there was something else going on. And sure, he was furious. But what he really wanted was an explanation. He was getting sick and tired of Kokichi concocting up reckless schemes without letting Kaito in on the plan. They were supposed to be partners, damn it.

So Kokichi had better explain himself.

Instead, the boy asked him a question in response.

"Do you trust me?"

Two answers came to mind, simultaneously.

Not as far as I can throw you, you little shit.

With my fucking life.

Kaito was startled by the mental admission. Sure, there was still a part of him that didn't believe every word out of the professional liar's mouth, and that was probably smart. But that was short-term. Looking at the big picture...

Kaito placed his hand over Kokichi's, looking into his eyes with earnest. "I trust your intentions," he said. "I trust that you're a good guy, and I trust that you're on my side. I trust that you have a plan for every decision you make, no matter how crazy."

"I feel a 'but' coming," Kokichi deadpanned.

"I don't trust in your self-preservation instincts," Kaito admitted. "I trust you want to do what's right, but I don't trust that it won't include sacrificing yourself. I don't trust that you won't let yourself get hurt for the sake of the greater good. Kokichi, I trust you so much, but I also know you."

Kokichi's lips tightened, caught under Kaito's heavy gaze. He let out a little sigh from his nose, slowly looking down at their hands, Kaito's resting over his. "I guess my self-sacrifice is kinda the whole basis of our relationship, huh?"

"Damn right, it is," Kaito's grip on his hand tightened. "Kokichi, I don't won't you to get hurt again. I can't let you get hurt again."

"Would it help at all if I promised that I wasn't planning on getting hurt?" Kokichi asked. Kaito shot him a look that read 'it doesn't'. "I'm serious, Kaito. I'm not ecstatic over having to join another killing game, but I also really don't want to die again, you know? It wasn't pleasant the first time."

Kaito winced inwardly, eyes trailing downwards to gaze at the floor shamefully. Kokichi flipped his hand under Kaito's so he could properly hold onto his hand.

"I am not planning on dying, Kaito," Kokichi insisted.

"I know," Kaito sighed. "But even if you don't end up dying...you're going back in. You could lose your memories of me, of everyone, permanently. You could lose your entire personality. You could...stop being Kokichi," Kaito's hand tightened. "That's still sacrifice."

"I know," Kokichi admitted. "I'm still...working out the kinks. That's why I need you on my side, Kaito. You, and Miu, and Rantaro. And..." Kokichi's face fell a little, and he grumbled the final name under his breath. "Even Kiiboy."

"Kiibo?" Kaito questioned. "You mean the Kiibo chip that Miu still has? That's gonna help you?"

"It's all gonna help me," Kokichi stated seriously. "I'm not just diving back into Danganronpa with no contingency plan."

Kaito pulled back slightly, giving Kokichi a cautious once-over. "Why are you going back in?"

"I told Sho that it was because of my physical state," Kokichi explained. "It was a hell of a convincing excuse. Obviously, I'm not thrilled that I'm paralyzed, or that I can drop down into a seizure at any moment."

"But that's not the real reason, is it?" Kaito asked, already sensing that this was headed in a different direction.

"Of course not."

"Then why?"

Kokichi looked away from Kaito, looking unsure of himself for the first time in this conversation. Certainly a rarity. "I..." he sighed. "I have no other choice."

"Of course you do!"

"No, Kaito, I really don't," Kokichi insisted, glaring back at Kaito with irritation. "Danganronpa wrote me with one personal goal. To end the killing game. Whatever it takes."

"But we don't have to be the characters they wrote us to be!" Kaito exclaimed.

"No, we don't," Kokichi agreed, surprising Kaito. "But that's exactly the problem. Danganronpa wrote themselves a foil. Someone who would stop at nothing to end the killing game. And then, they just try to release me into the world like discarded trash," Kokichi chuckled to himself. "No. I'm going to end the killing game. I'm going to end all killing games. Call it an Ultimate Supreme Leader's responsibility, call it heroism, call it spite. But Danganronpa wrote a monster and unleashed it on themselves," his voice and expression grew dark, not unlike how he sounded during his 'evil tirades' in the last game. "Time to reap the consequences."

When Kokichi finally fell silent, Kaito shuddered. While certainly a noble goal, Kokichi made it sound so sinister. "So...you're going to try to end Danganronpa for good? How?"

"By beating them at their own game," Kokichi said. "It's only ever been about one thing, and one thing only, Kaito. Entertainment."

Entertainment.

That's what it's always been, huh?

"Well...will you help me?"

Kaito groaned, doubling over and covering his head with his free hand. "Obviously."

After a long discussion in the bathroom, hidden from the cameras, Kaito brought Kokichi back to his bed and called a class meeting. Cast meeting? What were they, to each other? Castmates from a show? Classmates from a school that never existed?

Kaito fidgeted the doorway of the cafeteria, looking at the long table where all his friends were waiting. Shuichi and Maki were sitting next to each other, whispering. Himiko was flanked by Tenko and Angie, as per usual. Ryoma, Kirumi, Gonta, and Rantaro seemed locked in their own conversation, while Kaede and Miu signed to each other. Even Korekiyo was there, sitting at the far end of the table, looking at the wall with a deep contemplation.

The cafeteria was buzzing with their chatter, surely all discussing the meeting they had with Dr. Sho, and the implications of getting to leave the hospital, and Danganronpa, for good.

Kaito cleared his throat.

The buzz silenced quickly as everyone, even Korekiyo, turned their attention to the former astronaut. "Thanks for coming, guys," Kaito said, voice steady.

"Of course, Kaito," Shuichi said.

"How's the brat?" Maki asked. Kaito sighed, approaching the table and slipping onto the bench between her and Shuichi.

"Fine. Resting."

"You reminded him of the news, right?" Ryoma asked. "How did he take it?"

"As well as he could have," Kirumi spoke up. "He had some distasteful comments, but what's really important is that he was awake and lucid. He did ask Maki and I to leave the room, so I imagine he wanted to process in private."

Rantaro was looking at Kaito. He could feel his gaze on him. "You went to check on him again, just now, right? After I chatted with him, he seemed...determined."

"You two made up?" Himiko asked. "I thought Kokichi was giving you the silent treatment."

"He was, but not anymore," Rantaro smiled.

"Uh, yeah, determined," Kaito was stuck on that word. Determined. Kokichi must have had his decision made when he was talking with Rantaro. But clearly, he didn't know yet. "I, um, have something to tell you all. About Kokichi."

The mood sobered quickly, and Kirumi's eyebrows furrowed. "Is something the matter with him? Should I go check on him?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Kaito said, shifting in his seat and feeling uncomfortable. How was he going to tell everyone about this?

"Spit it out," Miu grumbled, cheek resting in the palm of her hand.

Kaito did just that.

"Kokichi is joining Danganronpa 54."

Silence swept the cafeteria instantly, it was as if time itself stood still. Kaito watched the expressions on his classmate's faces morph into various combinations of shock, horror, and disbelief. The first to speak was Rantaro.

"He's not..." Rantaro trailed off, eyebrows furrowing. "He is?"

Kaito nodded, rubbing his eye with irritation. Lucky for him, he didn't have to pretend in front of the security cameras. He really was pissed off, even after knowing Kokichi's true motives. He had to convince the cameras that he was angry because Kokichi was joining Danganronpa again, without cluing them into the fact he was trying to end the games for good. "I tried to change his mind, but," Kaito shook his head. "He's not budging. So I guess...I guess we're leaving here without him."

While Miu swore under her breath, Shuichi was giving Kaito an unreadable look. Clearly, Shuichi knew there was something more going on here.

"That idiot," Maki mumbled, fidgeting with her hair. "What does he think he's doing?"

"What does he think indeed..." Rantaro mumbled to himself, fidgeting with his fingers. He glanced over at Kaito, clearly mulling something over. Maybe he didn't have the whole picture, but clearly Rantaro was working it out on his own.

"Trust me, there's nothing I'd rather do than grab him by the hair and drag him out of this god-forsaken hospital with the rest of us," Kaito admitted. "He's been through enough, in and out of the game. But I can't force him. Ultimately, he can do whatever he wants."

Miu ran her thumb down Kiibo's drive thoughtfully.

"Very well," Kirumi cleared her throat, speaking up. "If he wishes to needlessly throw his life away, then who are we to stop him?"

"Kirumi!" Himiko exclaimed, reeling away from her and looking horrified.

"He's made his decision, Himiko," Kirumi said with a meaningful look down at the shorter girl. "And now, we make ours."

"We...leave?" Tenko asked tentatively.

"What else can we do?" Kaito asked. He could tell some people were catching on. Shuichi, Rantaro, Kirumi were all accepting the decision deceivingly fast. Clearly, they found Kaito's easy acceptance of the situation suspicious, and were playing along, for now. For that, he was so grateful. He wasn't sure if he could pull this off on his own. But with the help of such observant people, he just might.

"I suggest the rest of us go ahead and sign the release papers," Kirumi declared. "It is time we left Danganronpa behind us."

Behind us? Kaito thought spitefully. We are just getting started, aren't we?

So distracted by the conversation, Kaito didn't notice that Gonta had slipped out of the cafeteria.

Kokichi's brain was reeling. He had accepted his own decision, but if this was going to happen the way he hoped, he needed to rely on his team more than ever.

His team.

He almost wanted to laugh, but the most he could manage was a disappointed smirk.

Since when were these ragtag losers his 'team'? His 'D.I.C.E.'?

His D.I.C.E. was gone.

His D.I.C.E. was never here, in the first place.

The door slammed open, startling Kokichi out of his thoughts. This was much louder than the typical entrance, even by Miu and Kaito's standards. If this person was managing to be louder than those two, then there was really only one option it could be. The option he had been avoiding for weeks.

"What is Kokichi thinking?!" Gonta thundered from the doorway, already crying. Luckily, the loud entrance had given Kokichi ample time to school his expression into something bored, and unimpressed.

"Ugh, what are you doing here?"

"Going back into the simulation?!" Gonta exclaimed, his mouth stumbling around the word 'simulation', clearly still struggling to fight his forced speech impediment. "How can Kokichi do that?!"

"Gonta, you need to calm down," Kokichi deadpanned. "You're getting yourself riled up, and you sound stupid."

"Gonta is not stupid!" Gonta snapped.

"You're still doing it-"

"And I am not stupid, either!"

Kokichi quieted. "Ah. I see what you were going for there."

"I am not stupid," Gonta said again, sniffling stubbornly. "And Gonta from the game wasn't either. And my friend Kokichi knew that."

"I did not," Kokichi scoffed. "I always knew you were a big, dumb idiot-"

"I would be a big, dumb idiot if I couldn't figure out you were trying to push me away just now," Gonta pointed out, promptly shutting Kokichi up. "My friend Kokichi pretended to be mean to me, and said a lot of hurtful things, but I'm not so stupid that I couldn't figure out what you were trying to do."

Kokichi frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Wow. That's some swell character growth, Gonta. Too bad I don't give a shit."

"My friend Kokichi isn't a big, dumb idiot, either," Gonta said. "In fact, Kokichi was the smartest person I'd ever met-"

"Stop it-" Kokichi's shoulders tensed.

"Kokichi is not a big, dumb idiot," Gonta growled. "So why is he trying to go back into the killing game?!"

Kokichi was silent, simply glaring at the gentle giant at the foot of his bed. Gonta, finally, remained silent as well, tirade seemingly over. He returned Kokichi's glare pound-for-pound, an admittedly scary expression on his oversized classmate. It seemed he finally grew a backbone. Of Gonta's intelligence, Kokichi had no doubts. But Gonta didn't stand up this strongly for many things, bug-defending excluded. He knew that his decision would upset a couple people. Maybe not everyone would be concerned for his wellbeing, as he was certain there were still a couple people who weren't huge fans of his. But this reaction from Gonta...was predictable.

Still frustrating.

"I don't have to explain myself to an idiot like you," Kokichi said stubbornly.

"Yes, you do!" Gonta threw one giant finger in Kokichi's face, and he almost flinched. "I-I've been ignoring you for...for a long time! Like y-you asked!"

Jeez, despite his clear frustration with his speech, it seemed Gonta wasn't planning on stopping.

"But now I'm done!" Gonta snapped. "I will not ignore Ko- you if it means you will do something stupid! Because Kokichi isn't stupid! He's just sad!"

"Woah, woah, slow your roll, Giant Green Giant," Kokichi snarled, eye twitching in a combination of shock and anger. "You can yell all you want, but you can't accuse me of being sad! You don't even know what I feel!"

"I know exactly what you feel!" Gonta exclaimed, voice breaking as a new batch of tears threatened to pool over his eyeline. "You feel...feel guilty-"

"Stop-"

"And mad at Danganronpa-"

"I said stop-"

"And responsible-"

"Gonta-"

"And sad!"

"SHUT UP!" Kokichi thundered, something snapping inside. His wound in his hand flared up, and his head spun, and he couldn't move his damn legs, and he wasn't just going to sit here and take that kind of slander! Except-

"I WILL NOT!" Gonta snapped with equal authority, standing his ground over Kokichi.

Kokichi glared up at Gonta.

Gonta glared down at Kokichi.

Neither wavered, for a moment.

Kokichi scoffed, breaking eye contact to lean back on the bed and examine his nails distractedly. "You can throw as big a tantrum as you want, Gonta," he droned, boredom dripping in his tone. "But you're not going to change my mind."

Gonta stood for a moment, fists clenched at his sides, chest heaving. He was frowning deeply, a scary look despite the tears welling up in his eyes. His eyes searched Kokichi for something, before a decision was made and he relaxed. Slightly, at first, then all at once, sitting down into the chair beside his bed. It creaked under him. As he sat, one hand came up to cover his ribcage, a subtle motion but it certainly did not escape Kokichi. So he was still in pain after the surgery, huh?

"Gon- I am sorry for yelling," Gonta finally spoke up, calmer now.

"Well, I'm not."

"I will try to explain how I am feeling...without losing my temper," Gonta said. "People think I don't have one of those."

"What? A temper?" Kokichi questioned, still not looking at him.

"Yes," Gonta sighed. "People...forget I have one. Everyone has a temper. I have one."

"I know," Kokichi mumbled. "I've seen it."

"I know you know," Gonta chuckled at that. "You were the only one who knew."

"I don't know how that's possible," Kokichi rolled his eyes. "You would lose your temper any time anyone had anything bad to say about bugs."

"Or when anyone said anything bad about you," Gonta added. "Remember that?"

"So what?" Kokichi asked. "You liked me. You thought we were friends. Well, now you have to get in line pal. I have quite a few fans now that we're out of the game."

"Like Miu, and Rantaro, and Kaito," Gonta listed.

"So you're not special in the slightest," Kokichi flashed a cheeky grin.

"You talk to them, but...not to me," Gonta noted, and Kokichi's cheeky grin promptly slipped away.

"I have nothing to say to you," he grumbled.

Gonta hesitated. "Is that...true?" he asked, as if knowing that it wasn't.

It wasn't.

It wasn't.

Kokichi grit his teeth, still glaring at the wall to avoid glaring at Gonta. He could feel it, on his tongue. Something he had managed to say to Miu, after days of silence between the two of them. But it just wasn't the same here. Gonta wasn't the same.

"I know you want to say something," Gonta whispered in a tone far too quiet from the loud, happy guy. Gonta was too smart. He had always been too smart.

Just say it.

Just say it.

Just say it.

Then maybe this knot in your chest will finally loosen.

Then maybe the pressure behind your eyes will finally break.

Then maybe you can stop being haunted, in your dreams, where Kaito can't protect you and insist you're a good person.

Murderer.

Gonta deserves to hear it.

But do you deserve to say it?

Kokichi startled when he felt a large hand settle over his own. Before he could stop himself, he spun around, reeling and staring at Gonta. He was holding his hand. He was smiling.

"Go ahead."

Kokichi's mouth fell open.

And everything spilled out.

The fear he had felt when he discovered Miu, someone who he may have called his friend at one point, was planning to murder him. The fear of being the smallest, the weakest student, second to maybe Himiko, but at least she had a big scary jock like Tenko to protect her. No one was protecting him, because he spent so much time cultivating his stupid, stupid villain persona. Miu was going to kill him, and what was he supposed to do about it?! She programmed his avatar, and he couldn't move. He was vulnerable, he was weak, he was helpless, and he was going to die.

But Gonta. Gonta was the ally he could rely on. He could protect him.

But then what? Let Miu live? He can't do that, she was going to kill him! What other choice did he have?!

What choice did he have?!

But he did have a choice, didn't he? He didn't have to kill anyone, he didn't have to force anything, he didn't have to be a villain, because none of it was real anyway! None of it was real, Gonta! Didn't he realize that?!

"I realized that, Kokichi."

None of it was real but he still murdered. People died because of him, and he doesn't get respite just because it turned out they were all alive.

He killed his friends.

He killed them.

"But we're still alive, Kokichi."

The intent was there, and isn't that bad enough?! Why, why, why was Gonta trying to defend him, even now? Even when he choked Miu with tissue paper like a goddamn joke. Even when he might as well have stabbed Gonta himself, instead of his precious bugs. He made him feel despair, and he made him want to mercy kill, and he killed Gonta.

"But didn't I make that decision for myself, Kokichi?"

He knew he would! It was on purpose, it was all on purpose, because he was a despicable piece of dirt who didn't deserve Gonta's attention. Who never deserved Gonta's attention. So he had to make this right, even if he dug his grave deeper, even if he pushed people away, even if he gave up himself, his safety, his entire being. He had to give it up. He had to. He had to.

"Why?"

Because he was sorry!

He was sorry!

He was guilty, and mad, and responsible, and so, so, so sorry. Just like Gonta had said. Just like he said. He's sad, and it's killing him inside, and he hasn't got any other choice. Because he's sorry...

Sorry...

Gonta was holding him now. He had risen from the chair, pulling Kokichi's body into his chest and running his hand down his hair. Kokichi had reached up with his injured hand, trying to cling to Gonta's hospital gown, but his fingers twitched and wouldn't cooperate. There were hot, wet streaks running down his face, and he couldn't seem to catch his breath, hiccuping over his near-silent words.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered into Gonta's arms. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry Gonta, I'm so, so, sorry..."

"I know, Kokichi," Gonta murmured into the top of his head. "I know."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's all my fault, I killed you, I'm so, so, so sorry..."

"I know. I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago."

"You shouldn't," Kokichi rasped, his breath wobbling and catching in his throat.

"You don't get to make that decision for me," Gonta said stubbornly. "You messed up. You made a big mistake. But you were in a killing game. Your life was being threatened. And, better yet, I'm okay. Miu's okay. Everyone's okay."

Okay. Ha.

"I know you've been sorry, this whole time," Gonta admitted. "I know that's why you pushed me away. But I forgive you. It's okay."

Kokichi sighed, his body relaxing completely. Now that the tears have subsided, and the sobbing has slowed, it was like a weight had been lifted off of him, leaving him completely weakened and exhausted. Catching his breath, Kokichi pushed himself out of Gonta's hold, looking up at him. His friend smiled down at him. Kokichi sat up fully, sniffling and wiping at his eyes with his good hand.

"Don't tell anybody I cried," he ordered weakly.

"I won't," Gonta promised, and Kokichi knew he wasn't lying. He wasn't lying about this, and he wasn't lying about forgiving him. Gonta never lied.

"Even if you do forgive me," Kokichi said, still not believing he deserved it. "I'm still sorry. I'm sorry for getting you killed, and I'm sorry for banishing you and telling you I never want to see you again."

Kokichi was reminded of his first visit from Kirumi, after he had finally woken up from his coma. "It feels good to say sorry," she had said. "Perhaps, it would feel good for you as well?" He wasn't sure at the time. Sure, Kirumi could feel good after apologizing to Ryoma, but she had a country to look after. Kokichi had just been looking after himself, hadn't he? He didn't believe saying sorry would make him feel better. It was easier to just push, and ignore.

But now the dam is broken. He said sorry.

And damn that Kirumi, because she was right. Kokichi was feeling better.

"I wish you didn't tell me to leave you alone," Gonta admitted. "But I know why you did it."

"Yeah, I know," Kokichi sighed. Gonta was too smart. Too smart, too caring. "But Gonta. You won't change my mind."

Gonta's calm expression cracked, and he stared at Kokichi with worry. "W-What?"

"You can add this to the list of things I'm sorry about," Kokichi said. "But I am joining Danganronpa 54."

"But why? How can you go back?!" Gonta asked. "I don't want you to get hurt again."

"Believe me, I'm not thrilled about it," Kokichi admitted. "But it's just something I have to do." His eyes trailed back down to the contract, sitting, waiting on his bedside table. Gonta followed Kokichi's gaze, looking like he might cry again.

"I can't stop you?" he asked, quietly. Defeated. It didn't make Kokichi feel good.

"No," Kokichi sighed. "You can't."

Two. Months. Later.

Kaito fumbled with his keys, a little rocket ship keychain rattling at the motion. "Shit. Fuck. Come on," he grumbled to himself unhappily, hugging a giant, overflowing grocery bag to his chest. A paper medical mask covered the bottom half of his face, a backwards baseball cap covering his purple hair. He reached the key he was going for, which was, in fact, not a key, but rather a tiny gray fob. He pressed the fob to the door to a huge house, propped at the top of a hill. It was extremely modern in nature, flat tan roofs shooting out at jaunty angles, floor-to-ceiling windows forming the front profile of the building. The house, while somewhat flashy in nature, was so obscured by the trees of the surrounding forest that no one would think to look there. Down the backside of the hill, there was a short path that lead to the shore of a small, private beach, where you can stare at the water as it extended far beyond what they eye can see.

It was a beautiful place to live.

When Kaito finally got the door to swing open, he was greeted as typical. "FUCKING ASS TITS!"

"I'm sick of the fobs, Miu!" Kaito called out into the large, empty foyer, kicking the door closed behind him. He grunted with effort, adjusting the giant grocery bag in his arms. "I thought you said you were going to make a 'totally fucking awesome voice command to unlock the door'! You said I'd 'never have to use my hands again, except to-'"

"Kaito!" a much more pleasant tone interrupted the shouted conversation as Rantaro Amami peeked his head into the foyer. "Let me help you with that!"

"Thanks, man," Kaito breathed a sigh of relief as Rantaro took the groceries out of his hands. He slipped off the mask and took off his hat, shaking out his hair. It's grown longer, and hung limply by his shoulders. "What is she shouting about this time?"

"Still Kiibo, unfortunately," Rantaro said quietly, face pinching with a look of concern.

"Well, her voice sounds like it's getting better," Kaito commented, trying to look at some sort of bright side. Rantaro smiled at the attempt.

"Until she blows it out again, shouting at Kiibo."

"I'd better pull her away from the screen for a little while," Kaito sighed. "She needs some fresh air."

"Be my guest," Rantaro chuckled as he walked off, presumably to carry the groceries into the kitchen (a huge room, with a long marble island and a clear-door fridge that reached the ceiling). In the meantime, Kaito walked off in the other direction, towards the office space, where he found his second roommate, Miu Iruma. She was in a pink bathrobe, sitting cross-legged in a spinning office chair, eyes wide and trained on the screen.

"Hey," she mumbled, her eyes not peeling away from the screen for even a second. Kaito frowned and turned on the lights, causing Miu to hiss like a cat and curl in on herself.

"I know it's getting better, but you need to watch your voice," Kaito scolded, approaching the desk and putting one hand on the back of her office chair. "You're going to hurt it if you keep screaming like that."

"Sorry," Miu sighed, sitting up and letting her head fall back onto the chair, her hair brushing Kaito's fingers. "I was the Ultimate Inventor, not the Ultimate Programmer."

"I know."

"I can't get it," Miu closed her eyes, heaving a deep breath. "I can't."

"You can!" Kaito insisted. "It's only been-"

Miu startled him with a frustrated look. She raised her hands and signed. Two. Months. Living with Miu, Kaito has picked up a good amount of Japanese Sign Language, and was able to understand.

"Danganronpa really messed with his programming, Miu. But you'll get him back to normal. I know you can."

"I know," Miu opened her eyes to look back at the screen, where the image of Kiibo's face was plastered. The little icon had his eyes closed, bobbing rhythmically as if asleep. The Kiibo chip was plugged into the side of the computer. "He's buffering, right now," she explained. "I was programming all of season fifty three into his memory bank. I know he knows how all that shit went down, but I was hoping...I don't know. If he felt it again, he might become our Kiibo. But he's buffering. Our rich asses spend all our resources on the best technology in the world, and he's buffering!" she slammed her hands down on the desk, and Kaito gripped the chair and wheeled it away. She yelped as she suddenly rolled back, glaring up at Kaito. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Forcing you to take a break," Kaito grabbed her by the arm and hoisted her to her feet. She wobbled, but Kaito kept two steady hands on her shoulders. "Go put on some clothes, you're going outside."

Miu looked down at her bathrobe and sighed. You wish I had less clothes on, she signed.

Just go, Kaito signed back before pushing her out of the office and in the general direction of her bedroom. He watched her stagger until she turned the corner, and then he turned to go into the kitchen.

Rantaro was standing in front of the giant, modern fridge, stuffing milk and yogurt in their designated spots. "You get her up?"

"I did. I feel bad, though," Kaito reached into the grocery bag and pulled out snacks for the pantry. He pressed his hand against a panel on the wall, and the pantry slid out of the wall, the cabinets on a sliding device perpendicular to the wall. He set his snacks down and pushed the pantry back in, where it slotted smoothly into the wall. "I know it's hard for her, trying to restore Kiibo."

"She will do it," Rantaro said, no doubt in his voice. "How was shopping? Okay?"

"No one recognized me," Kaito shrugged, digging through the bag and pulling out some fruit he had purchased. "They haven't in a while."

Grocery trips were risky, for ex-cast members of Danganronpa. The first trip out of the hospital, Kaito had been hounded. Most were fans of his, congratulating him on his role and begging for pictures, autographs, stories. But there were a couple who looked at him with pity. It was rare, but some people did apologize for what happened to him. Saying it was 'inhuman' and 'immoral' to even be in the situation in the first place. Kaito wasn't sure how to respond to that. Danganronpa was popular. He knew it was. There were plenty of people proving that, telling him with excitement their theories on his 'character', and far too much information on their 'ships'. Kokichi had taught him what that meant. 'Ship'.

Bumping into people who recognized him had decreased as the months went on. Kaito also learned how to handle himself, how to walk around discreetly. He wasn't accosted by fans anymore, nor given some form of comfort from people who seemed anti-Danganronpa.

The real world wasn't what Kaito had anticipated.

He had been ready for an apocalypse.

He had been ready for a collapsed society.

He had been ready for chaos, for blood-thirst, for millions of Tsumugis.

What he got was a little more complicated than that.

The real world was large and diverse, full of people who liked Danganronpa, sure, but it also had some people who didn't. Some people who saw the unfairness in the killing game, people who argued that even if it was 'legal', it wasn't moral. But despite those people, few and far between, Danganronpa was still popular, still loved.

Kokichi had an uphill battle.

"I heard from Kaede today," Rantaro mentioned casually.

"Oh, good," Kaito said. "How are they?"

"Good, good," Rantaro said. "She and Shuichi have Korekiyo staying over."

"Oh, do they?"

"Sure. Shuichi's found a pretty good therapist, so I think they're going to try to convince him to go. He still hasn't been the same since waking up," Rantaro shook his head, 'tsk'ing his tongue. "I invited them over for dinner this weekend, I hope that's alright."

"Of course it is!" Kaito exclaimed. "I am always happy to have Shuichi over! And it's good for Miu to have someone like Kaede to talk to. Any word from any of the others?"

"Last I heard, Ryoma and Gonta are doing just fine. I think they're home a lot now, now that they've adopted that cat."

"Who I still want to meet, by the way."

"Angie, Tenko, and Himiko haven't reached out in a while. I might try to invite them over some night, maybe for board games. I don't know. I feel like those girls are keeping to themselves," Rantaro sighed, clearly sounding a little disappointed at that. "And well...nothing from the rest. But that's not surprising."

Kaito frowned, wishing he could disagree. But there were a few friends who slipped away after being released from the hospital, all on their own accord. That is, except for Kokichi, who Kaito hadn't seen in two months. He's been in custody at Danganronpa Studios, waiting for the start of Season 54. Ever since their goodbye, there's been no contact allowed. They were completely cut off.

All Kaito had was his faith in Kokichi, and his belief that he will be okay.

"He goes in, soon," Rantaro said, giving Kaito a knowing look. Somehow, Rantaro could always tell when Kaito was thinking about him.

"I know," Kaito responded darkly. "And we've still barely gotten any information on him."

"Give it time," Rantaro said, walking over and putting a comforting hand on Kaito's shoulder. "He's got a lot of us in his corner, Kaito. He'll be okay."

As if on cue, Miu came barelling into the kitchen, fully dressed but still looking bedraggled. She frantically looked at the two of them before raising her hands to sign.

We got an update!

Chapter Text

Miu took Kaito and Rantaro back to the home office. Kiibo's icon had disappeared from the screen, and in it's place was a video chat of a person, someone middle-aged, dressed in a suit. They had very light brown hair, that was tied back into the world's tiniest ponytail at the back of their head. They wore a pair of glasses, perched on their nose, and looked very mature.

Their Danganronpa contact.

"Mx. Chihiro!" Rantaro said warmly. "Good to see your face. I wasn't expecting a video call."

"Well, we're getting closer and closer to the premiere of Danganronpa 54," Chihiro said. "I wanted to check on everyone."

Chihiro Akage. A long-time employee of Danganronpa. Specifically, a programmer. Yes, like that Chihiro. Though, this person wasn't the same. That Chihiro was a completely fictional character from the very first season of Danganronpa, before they started using Ultimate Real Fiction. The character Chihiro is not the same, but was rather inspired by the real person Chihiro. There were several differences between the two. Real Chihiro was none too happy that Danganronpa used their likeness for a character, preferring instead to be behind the scenes rather than in the spotlight.

Before going off the grid, Kirumi had actually connected Rantaro, Miu, and Kaito with Chihiro, claiming to have found a programmer on the inside who was just as against Danganronpa as the rest of them.

"I had joined Team Danganronpa before they started dragging real kids into it," Chihiro had explained upon their first digital meeting. "Joining Team DR was a lot easier than leaving it." Due to the dark tone in their voice, the roommates had decided not to push it any further. They assumed it was not easy to 'quit' Danganronpa.

But that's alright.

It'll make the sabotage all the sweeter.

"What have you got for us, Mx. Chihiro?" Kaito asked.

"I'm afraid not much, unfortunately," they sighed. "I wanted to give you an update, that they have officially finalized the script of season fifty four. Everything is complete. All that has to happen now is sending the kids into the simulation."

"That means they'll go in any day now," Rantaro murmured darkly, eyebrows furrowing.

"That's right. I am going to try to get you all a copy of the script, but unfortunately, they keep those things under heavy lock and key."

"Don't put yourself in any danger," Kaito said, a look of worry washing over him. Chihiro smiled and waved him off.

"Don't worry about me. I'm the inspiration for Chihiro, Chiaki, and Alter Ego! If Danganronpa does anything to me, my fans will make them suffer for it," despite the cheerful words, Chihiro still spat out the word 'fans' like a curse. The three younger kids shivered in sympathy.

"Hey, Mx. Chihiro?" Kaito spoke up, leaning towards the monitor. "Any chance you've gotten to see Kokichi yet?"

Chihiro's face softened in sympathy. "Not yet, bud. Sorry. Programmers aren't allowed to interact with the 'actors', and I am trying to stay under the radar, here."

"Right," Kaito knew all of this, and expected that answer, but he still wilted at the news. Chihiro beamed at him.

"But hey, I will get a chance to see him soon."

Kaito perked back up again, along with Miu and Rantaro. "R-Really? When?"

"The top programmers are in the simulation room when the kids go in," they explained. "I can try and make sure I'm the programmer that gets to set up Kokichi's pod."

"That would be great!" Rantaro exclaimed.

"Any chance you can say something, to give him a little comfort?" Kaito asked. "Let him know his friends are still with him?"

Chihiro's smile was warm, knowing. "Can I take a message?"

Kaito perked again, glancing at Miu and Rantaro. Miu cocked an eyebrow with a smirk, while Rantaro waved his hand, as if saying 'you do the honors'." With a grin, Kaito considered for a moment what he could say. He hadn't had any contact with Kokichi in two months, and this is the last thing he'll hear before going in...Decision made, Kaito grinned and turned back to the monitor.

Two Days Later

With no further update from Chihiro, Kaito had distracted himself by being excited for Shuichi and Kaede (and possibly Korekiyo). They were visiting tonight, with no promise of Korekiyo's presence. Kaito loves living with Rantaro and Miu, his roommates are great, but he missed his other friends. In adjusting to their new lives, they haven't gotten to see each other very often. They kept in touch regularly, of course. Shuichi and Kaito texted every day, and he knew Rantaro was frequently in contact with Ryoma and Gonta. But still...

"Shuichi! Kaede! Good to see you!" Kaito cheered as his two friends entered the house. Shuichi held a box in his hands, and Kaede held a bottle of wine.

Good to see you too, Kaito. It's been a while, Kaede signed to him, setting down the wine to do so. While Miu's voice seemed to improve in the two months outside of the hospital, Kaede's voice had only gotten worse, to the point where she rarely speaks aloud at all. It was a bit sad to witness, but Kaede's sunny disposition had never been dimmed, not once, since losing her voice, so Kaito did his best not to feel bad for her.

"I'm sorry we don't visit more often," Shuichi said earnestly. Kaito clapped him on the back, chuckling as the smaller boy jumped at the contact.

"Don't apologize! Everyone's been settling in to their new lives, we don't expect you to drop everything to hang out with us every second!"

Speaking of new lives, Kaede signed. I can't get over this house. It's lovely, Kaito.

"Thanks!" Kaito, on habit alone, signed the word back while also speaking out loud. "Next, we should go visit your penthouse!" Kaito had a great time the last time he visited. Unlike their big, hidden home, Kaede and Shuichi decided to live in a penthouse condo in the nearby city. It was glamorous, with an elevator that takes you inside the condo and a giant balcony looking over the sea. Kaede and Shuichi both had their fair share of Danganronpa fan run-ins, living in the city. But Kaede had insisted she didn't want to hide, and Shuichi...well, he just wanted to be with Kaede.

Kaito wasn't sure what the status of their relationship was, at this point. He knew that Shuichi had harbored certain feelings for Kaede in the game, but now he wasn't sure if it was romantic, platonic, or maybe somewhere in between. A murky gray area, blurred by the melding of their in-game and real-life personalities.

"That's a great idea, Kaito," Shuichi said.

"Well, come on in!" Kaito motioned for them to come further inside. "I can't seem to pull Miu away from the computer right now, but Rantaro is ready and prepping dinner for us!" Kaede picked back up the bottle of wine, and together they all went into the huge, modern kitchen.

Rantaro was already elbow-deep in dinner prep. His sleeves were rolled up, and he wore an apron over his green sweater. His hair had been held back by two clips, keeping it out of his face as he worked. He perked up as Kaito and their guests came in.

"Shuichi! Kaede! Welcome!" he exclaimed. "So good to see you two!"

"You too, Rantaro," Shuichi smiled. "We brought wine, and some cake."

"That's perfect!" Rantaro grinned. "I would take it from you, but my hands are all dirty. Kaito?"

"Whoops! Sorry," Kaito chuckled, quickly accepting the box and bottle from Shuichi and Kaede. "Still getting used to real-world manners."

It was all so...domestic. House guests, gifts, manners. Greetings, dinners, 'how have you been's and 'we should visit sometime's. It felt like a play. A comfortable play, sure, but a play nonetheless. Like an act, put on by all four actors. Pretending that they hadn't watched each other die. Pretending that they weren't waiting with baited breath for the next killing game to start. Pretending that life was normal.

'How was the trip over?' Rantaro would ask.

'Easy, no trouble at all,' Kaede would reply.

'Nice weather we're having,' Shuichi would point out.

'Why is no one saying it?' Kaito would ask, if he could. 'Why are we all saying our lines and hitting our marks like the good actors Danganronpa programmed us to be? Why are none of us saying it?! Why aren't we screaming it from the top of our lungs?! It's like his name is a curse, one that can't be spoken out loud! We keep talking and talking about mindless bullshit and no one will talk about him-'

"How was the trip over?" Rantaro asked, patting some rice onto a set of five plates.

Easy, Kaede signed. No trouble at all.

"Miu is trying to get Kiibo back," Kaito said.

It was like a record scratch, the mundane conversation screeching to a stop as all eyes turned to him.

"That's why she's glued to the computers," Kaito continued. "She's trying to get Kiibo back. Nothing has worked yet."

Shuichi's face softened, somewhat. "I'm sure she will-"

"Kokichi's going into the game soon," Kaito barreled over him, frustration tainting his voice just a bit. "Kirumi's gone radio silent. I haven't heard from Maki Roll since the day we got out of the hospital. And Kokichi's going in soon," he repeated.

"And dinner's ready," Rantaro stated, pulling Kaito out of his frustrated reverie. Kaito blinked, turning to his roommate, who was untying the apron as he spoke. "All of that is true, Kaito. But we got each other, and we got a nice dinner," he folded up the apron and rolled his sleeves back down. "I'm not avoiding the topic. We can talk about it. We should talk about it. But look on the bright side. We're alive, we're together, and we're eating dinner."

"I agree," Shuichi smiled, pulling Kaito's attention over to him. "Who would have ever thought we could do this? Together?"

Kaito took a deep breath. It came out in a shaky exhale, but still, he smiled. "You're right. Sorry. I just...it feels like it's looming over us. The dark, ominous cloud. And...I want to do something about it."

"We are," Rantaro insisted. "Miu is working right now, not just for herself, but for Kokichi. Kirumi connected us with Mx. Chihiro, for Kokichi. We're here, together, planning something big, because of Kokichi."

"We're not done with Danganronpa," Shuichi mused, looking distant, but determined. "We're just getting started."

"Jeez, you all sound like a bunch of cheesy saps right now."

Everyone jumped, turning at the sound of Miu's raspy voice. She leaned against the wall, dressed in a cute, short skirt and crop top, hair down and flowing to her waist. She smirked, arms crossed. With the attention finally on her, she raised her hands to sign. Well, we gonna eat or what?

They ended up walking down to the shore, to eat dinner as a picnic. They had to descend a steep hill, including some strong wooden steps, to get to the private beach at the bottom of Kaito, Rantaro, and Miu's huge property. Kaito threw down two blankets, Rantaro set up the food, and they all sat together, watching the water lap at the sand a couple feet away. The sun was just starting to lower, giving the sky just barely a hint of an orange glow.

"Last we heard, our contact at Danganronpa told us the script was just about finished," Kaito explained as the group ate their food and chatted about Danganronpa. "They haven't gotten access to it yet, but they said they will send as many details as possible as soon as they can."

"I am curious about this mystery contact," Shuichi admitted, covering his mouth in the classic 'Shuichi is thinking' pose. "You said Kirumi was the one to connect you, right?"

"That's right," Rantaro said.

But now Kirumi's gone completely off the grid, Kaede pointed out. I hope she's alright.

"We'll hear from her again, someday," Rantaro seemed certain of that.

And hopefully, not just her, Kaito thought to himself as he picked up another bite of rice. Ever since leaving the hospital, it felt like a couple people had slipped out of reach.

A lot of people needed adjusting to their new lives.

A lot of people needed time accepting their real-life identities.

Some people needed to leave to go figure out what those identities were.

But damn, if he didn't miss her.

"Kaito?" Shuichi nudged his shoulder into Kaito's, stirring him out of his thoughts. "You okay?" Ever the observant one.

"Yeah, I'm fine, bro," Kaito tussled Shuichi's hair. "So, you couldn't convince Korekiyo to come with you tonight, huh?"

"Unfortunately," Shuichi sighed. "I don't think he was ready."

"Is he doing any better?" Rantaro asked. Shuichi gave him a sad look that read 'not really'.

"You gotta feel bad for the guy," Kaito admitted, pinching his chin. "He definitely drew one of the shortest ends of the stick. Even Kokichi was worried about him."

"There's something going on there," Shuichi said. "Sometimes it's like...I think he hears something. Someone, maybe. He hears them up here," he pointed at his temple. "I've tried to talk about it a few times. I wouldn't pry, but I tried to hint like I knew what was going on. He would never talk to me though."

"I bet Kokichi could figure it out," Kaito mumbled, picking at his rice. He missed the sympathetic, sad look Shuichi shot him.

There was a soft buzzing, barely audible, and certainly not enough to disrupt the conversation. Miu perked up, checking her smart watch.

"We'll get him out of the house and seeing people soon," Rantaro said. "We're going to fix this."

That's right! Kaede signed excitedly. Once Kokichi's done, Danganronpa will just be a horrible memory!

"It's good to see you guys excited," Shuichi chuckled. "Makes me think we could actually pull this off."

Of course we can! Kaede insisted. During this whole conversation, Miu had been reading something on her watch. She suddenly started to climb to her feet, catching everyone's attention.

Message from Mx. Chihiro, she signed urgently. Big, big update.

"What? What is it?" Kaito asked, sitting up straight.

It's coded, but they sent it to me. I'm going back up to print it out.

"I'm coming with you!" Kaito stood up as well. He couldn't very well just sit here knowing that Mx. Chihiro had some big news to share!

"Why don't we all come?" Shuichi offered, already standing up with a concerned furrow in his brow. Rantaro was already gathering up the plates as well.

"Fine, just hurry," Miu rasped, motioning for them to follow. Soon, all five were climbing back up the hill, the beach and the setting sun at their backs.

Miu walked into her office with urgency, everyone else hot on her heels. Not bothering to say anything, Miu flopped down in her giant office chair and swiped at the computer. Kiibo's sleeping face was still there, but one monitor switched to Miu's email. Her fingers were already flying across the keyboard.

"I wonder what the news is," Shuichi murmured thoughtfully.

"With the premiere coming soon, it must be pretty big," Rantaro pointed out.

Kaito's eyes were trained on the screen as a series of letters and numbers popped up, them promptly scrambled themselves. Miu hit 'Print' before the letters had even finished, and her giant black printer in the corner of the room buzzed, coming to life.

The group stepped back as Miu spun her chair, standing and crossing to the printer. As soon as a single page was out, she swiped it and read it over. Kaito glanced back at the screen, but the coded message gave no hint as to what it could be about. Miu and Chihiro must have decided that it was safest to not have a decoded message digitally, where Danganronpa could possibly access it. That explains the speed at which Miu decided to print.

"Holy shit," Miu mumbled, pulling Kaito out of his thoughts. It sounded...bad. Really bad. Miu's hoarse voice was tinged with terror and disbelief. "Holy shit."

"What? What is it?!" Kaito was immediately concerned by the absolute horror in Miu's voice. When the former inventor did nothing more than stare wide-eyed at the paper, Kaito quickly snatched it out from her grasp, skimming the page rapidly.

Cast of Danganronpa 54

Kaito gasped at the header. The cast list? This was big, this meant the participants would go in any day now. Everyone was selected, and their Talents were already written for them. Kokichi would be gone in a matter of days. Kaito read on, even as he felt everyone's eyes looking at the paper over his shoulder.

Cast of Danganronpa 54

Emiko Oe- Ultimate Soap Opera Actor

Ryo Tani- Ultimate Ballet Dancer

Makoto Naegi- Ultimate Storyteller

Rei Okata- Ultimate Opera Singer

Hotaru Saeki- Ultimate Track Star

Tatsuo Uno- Ultimate Drummer

Kimi Nakamoto- Ultimate Tennis Champion

Aaliyah Smith- Ultimate Ornithologist

Seiichi Hano- Ultimate Robotics Engineer

Ayumi Soma- Ultimate Food Critic

Keiji Okura- Ultimate Stunt Man

Hisoka Umeda- Ultimate Influencer

Hikaru Fujumoto- Ultimate Archer

Tohru Mukai- Ultimate Business Woman

Yuki Otake- Ultimate Murder Mystery Writer (Director's Note: Protagonist of the 54th Season)

Kokichi Oma- Ultimate Fashion Designer (Director's Note: Mastermind of 54th Season)

The paper crumpled in Kaito's hand as his grip tightened around it. Kaede made a strangled sound, hand clapping over her mouth. Shuichi reached out and gently grabbed Kaito's sleeve, an attempt at a grounding presence.

Fury filled Kaito's head, until he saw nothing but red.

This is going to be a problem.

Meanwhile, at DR Headquarters

"Hey, Oma!"

Kokichi was startled out of his thoughts as a pesky person barreled into his room. Not his hospital room, he hadn't been there for two months. No, this was a dorm room of some kind, small enough to be a walk-in closet. He was sat on his bed, absentmindedly rubbing at his sore forearm. He tugged down his sleeve.

"Emiko. Still not a fan of knocking, I see," he deadpanned. Emiko Oe, a person who looked a bit similar to Miu, actually, though with noticeably shorter hair and a less abrasive attitude. Emiko Oe, his future fellow cast member of Danganronpa 54.

"Sorry!" Emiko didn't look that sorry. "Did you hear the news?"

"Obviously not. Spit it out, you're already boring me."

"We're going in! Tomorrow! I'm so excited!"

Of course she was. Unlike him, she wasn't a returning cast member. Emiko Oe had never participated in a killing game before, only watched from the safety of her screen. But still...tomorrow. That was big. Huge. "You aren't the slightest bit concerned?" Kokichi scoffed, acting unimpressed. "You're not that tough, newbie. You can get hurt."

"I'm going to be a star, just like you!" Emiko exclaimed. "That's all any of us want."

Bold claim. "Or you can end up paralyzed."

Emiko crossed her arms, giving Kokichi's still-paralyzed legs an unimpressed look of her own. "I don't intend to get crushed. I intend to-"

"-win, yeah, you and the rest of us," Kokichi cut her off, rubbing at his forearm. "Good luck, newbie. I'd promise to protect you during the game, but tomorrow, I'm not even gonna remember who you are," Kokichi batted his eyelashes at her innocently. Emiko, to her credit, stood strong under all his taunts. Naïveté was the best source of confidence.

"I'm sure we'll still be friends in the game," Emiko, apparently considering the conversation not over, hopped up on Kokichi's bed. He yelped as the mattress bounced beneath the both of them. Emiko leaned against the wall, tucking her legs under herself to sit cross-legged.

"We'll see. Last time I was in a killing game, I didn't have many friends at all," Kokichi noted, leaning his cheek on his fist in a show of boredom. It didn't sway Emiko in the slightest.

"I wonder what my role is gonna be."

"Just going to have to wait and see. I just hope mine isn't something boring again, like Ultimate Supreme Leader."

Emiko gasped, as if personally offended. "What are you talking about?! That was a great Talent!"

"It was a stupidass Talent written by a stupidass writer."

"You're so bitter."

"And yet you just keep visiting me."

"You were a lot of people's fave, y'know?" Emiko leaned so her cheek was smushed against the wall. It must be because she reminds him of Miu. That has to be the reason he puts up with this Danganronpa fangirl. That, and he would probably die of boredom if he didn't interact with any of the new Danganronpa additions.

It was fascinating. People really loved Danganronpa. Even in the face of his post-game condition, Emiko seemed convinced it was worth it. Worth risking physical, mental, emotional damage, all to be a part of this killing game. All to escape the mundanity of real life. All to be a star.

Kokichi would be disgusted if it weren't so...sad.

"Yeah, and I was a lot of people's least 'fave'," Kokichi pointed out.

"You were controversial. It's a good thing, Oma! It means you got to play a complex character."

One I never get to stop playing. "You can just as easily be written as a one-note twist serial killer."

"It's true, not every Danganronpa character was a winner," Emiko admitted. "But when your show goes on for fifty four seasons, you need to start getting a little crazy with the different kinds of characters. You can't just make a thousand Nagito Komaedas."

"I think that would be exactly what the audience wants," Kokichi sighed.

"People called you the next Nagito Komaeda, you know?" Emiko said. It was supposed to be a compliment. Kokichi scoffed.

"Nagito is a fake person, with a fake talent, and a fake storyline. It's pretty telling that most people's favorite characters were from when Danganronpa was still just regular old fiction."

Emiko leaned back, giving Kokichi a curious look. Not concerned, just intrigued. "You talk a lot of shit about Danganronpa. You don't really bother hiding your contempt for it."

"Well, yeah. I can't walk, Emiko."

"If you hate it so much, why are you going back in?" she asked genuinely, without a hint of judgement.

"I hate it because it was boring," Kokichi answered. "I intend to fix that problem."

"You're going to make the killing game more exciting?" Emiko chuckled. "How do you know? You're not going to remember once you're in."

"What about you? You insist you're going to win and be a star. You're not going to remember that when you're in," Kokichi said. "Why am I going in? Why are you going in? It's the same as asking why people do anything. Why would anyone join something like Danganronpa? The answer is simple. We all want something out of it."

Emiko considered his words. "Touche. Well, I just wanted to come in and let you know. I'm sure someone would have told you eventually, but you're kinda a shut-in. Plus, I wanted to be the first person to tell you!"

"Congrats, you win the 'Annoys Kokichi the Most' award."

"I humbly accept," Emiko joked in a voice that certainly wasn't humble. Still, Kokichi felt an amused smirk pulling at his lips.

You got a storm coming, Emiko. I almost feel bad for you.

"Promise we'll try to be friends during the game?" Emiko asked, holding out a pinkie. A childish, worthless pinkie full of empty, unkeepable promises.

"We won't remember this promise," Kokichi pointed out. We won't remember anything. This is my biggest gamble of all.

"Humor me," Emiko smiled. Kokichi rolled his eyes, considered her for a second, and then conceded, his pinkie reaching out towards hers.

Premiere day

Sixteen teens...or perhaps young-looking adults stood in a circle. Well, fifteen stood. One sat in a wheelchair.

"Today is the day," Director Sho stated, standing in the middle of the circle like some kind of prophet. "I hope you're all excited!"

The person beside Kokichi, who he vaguely remembered as Seiichi Hano, practically vibrated with excitement. "Yay!" they whispered under their breath. Kokichi managed to keep his face expressionless.

"Behind you are your pods. In these, your body will be suspended as your consciousness is put into the virtual reality simulation," Sho described, motioning to said 'pods'. The participants glanced behind them. Sixteen white pods, eerily coffin-looking, sat behind them. And behind those were several different people, all dressed in Danganronpa suits and white jackets. The programmers, Kokichi figured. The ones who will be putting them in.

"This season promises to be an exciting one," Sho said, happily clasping her hands together. God, she was so fake-y, Kokichi could barf. "We have a couple returning players, which is always exciting."

"Hopefully they're better than the last one," Hikaru Fujimoto whispered to Rei Okata, just within earshot of Kokichi. "He died first!"

Rantaro? Kokichi distantly remembered watching Shuichi and the other winners realize that Rantaro was the Ultimate Survivor. He must have been another returning player. But, he must not remember anything from his first game. That bodes poorly for Kokichi. However, something else Sho said was standing out to him.

A couple returning players?

Kokichi looked around the circle, knowing it was fruitless. While he had watched his season of Danganronpa to death, he never had any access to the other seasons. He would have no idea who in here had participated before.

"Without further ado, we ask you please approach your pod, and a programmer will be by to send you in to the exciting world of Danganronpa," Sho explained cordially. "We wish you luck in this fifty-fourth killing game. Break a leg," at that, she specifically shot Kokichi a victorious look. He remembered he had said those words to her, when he had signed up. He frowned, just a bit. Seemed like Sho could be actively rooting against him.

Oh, well. Kokichi knew beforehand that this would be an uphill battle.

Kokichi spun his wheelchair around, approaching his pod. It was identical to all the others, even in size. A small, digital screen rested right beside where his head would be.

"Can I help you in?"

Kokichi looked up at the programmer who was apparently going to plug him in. They were looking at his wheelchair, then back up at him. Kokichi's eyebrow twitched.

"Well, I can't stand up and get myself in."

The programmer didn't seem bothered by the sass, instead bracing Kokichi's arm and helping him transfer to the pod. Kokichi laid down, immediately feeling claustrophobic. The white walls were close to his head, which was braced by a head-shaped mold, keeping his neck supported. His arms laid at his sides, the metal cold against his skin. Determined to distract himself, Kokichi watched the programmer intently, as they typed something onto the digital screen.

It was like they were laying him out to die.

The pod suddenly felt eerily like the press.

Kokichi flinched despite himself, desperately keeping himself from slipping back into Hangar Mode. Hangar Mode, as he called it, was when the memories got a little too real, when his body felt a little too flat, when death felt a little too familiar. The ringing sound of metal against metal, cold walls of a press written by Tsumugi and designed to kill.

Kokichi was startled out of his thoughts as the programmer leaned in close. They kept their eyes on the small screen on the pod, and spoke in a quiet whisper. "I got a message for you," they said, so soft that there was no chance anyone else in the room could hear. "From Kaito." Oh. That was unexpected. Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed with confusion, but he tried to school his surprise so that no one would notice.

"Who are you?"

"A friend," the programmer said. "You're going to go in soon. Are you ready?"

Kokichi took a deep breath, which wavered in his chest. He shot the programmer an uncertain look. Finally, finally, the programmer looked back at him with a smile.

"Kaito says you have nothing to worry about," they said. "'We're with you all the way, partner. Your friends have got your back.'"

His friends, huh? Kokichi didn't doubt them, not for a second. Still, the words were so familiar, so Kaito, that he couldn't help but smile. He was none too happy about having his memory wiped, and his personality erased for something new. But Kaito had his back. He wasn't alone.

Suddenly, the pod didn't feel so small anymore.

The programmer straightened up, apparently done with their task on his pod. They looked down at him with one more warm, comforting smile.

"Oh yeah. He also said, 'Don't die'."

Don't die.

Kokichi laughed. "I'll try my best."

The programmer chuckled along with him. "Good luck in there, Kokichi."

The pod door closed, and Kokichi's vision went white.

ADMIN USER ID: *******

ADMIN USER PASS: *********

WELCOME, CHIHIRO AKAGE

DR54 READY

16 AVATARS LOADED

ACCESS: Kokichi Oma

ACCESS GRANTED

INPUT: <mastermind.puppet>

INPUT: <Ultimate Fashion Designer>

LOADING...

INPUT RECIEVED

INPUT: <backdoor.v3>

ERROR: INPUT NOT RECOGNIZED

INPUT: <admin override>

PLEASE INPUT PROGRAMMER OVERRIDE CODE

INPUT: ******

ACCESS GRANTED.

INPUT: <backdoor.v3>

INPUT RECIEVED

INPUT: <coder access>

GRANTED

FW: -STOP= etc/fw/fw-stop

if (ID not ******) : then

echo-n Firewall configuration file. S (Does Not Exist)

dr_status: -s

exit

CODE RECIEVED

INPUT: <drop Avatar>

ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DROP Kokichi Oma AVATAR INTO DR54? Y OR N

<Y>

INPUT RECIEVED. DROPPING Kokichi Oma

LOADING...

AVATAR DROPPED

16/16 AVATARS DROPPED. COMMENCE DR54? Y OR N

<Y>

DR54 LOADING...

MICROCAMERAS LOADING...

SECURITY CAMERAS LOADING...

CAPTAIN.HEADMASTER LOADING...

SYSTEMS ON

DR54: START

Chapter Text

Yuki Otake woke up in a room she didn't recognize.

It took a moment for her to notice, but as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, she realized the cot she was lying on was significantly smaller than her own bed at home. In fact, this whole room was pretty small, the walls surrounding her cot and giving her little room to stand. Slowly, she sat up in bed, staring at the room in shock, and dawning horror.

Where the hell was she?

She threw off the thin wisp of a 'blanket' that covered her legs, throwing herself off of the cot. The room was completely dark, no light to speak of. But as Yuki's eyes adjusted, she noticed a circular object on the wall in front of the cot. It had two handles, like a miniature barn door. She stumbled over, grabbing the handles and throwing the doors open.

Behind the cover was a porthole, slightly bigger than the size of her head.

Yuki blinked, aghast, at the view outside the porthole. She saw nothing but water for miles, stretching as far as her eyes could see. The sky was a colorful blue, not overly-bright. The water rippled peacefully.

Yuki was on a boat.

How the hell did she get on a boat?!

"Okay, Yuki," she breathed to herself, spinning around to take in the view of the tiny room. With the porthole open, the natural light illuminated the rest of the room, revealing not much else besides a door on the other side of the room. "Don't freak out."

She was freaking out.

Yuki, forgetting the fact that she was indeed in pajamas, stumbled over to the door, grabbing the handle desperately and yanking it open. Thankfully, it swung open with no argument, unlocked. She heaved a sigh of relief as she found herself in a well-lit hallway that looked like a hotel.

No, not a hotel.

Like a cruise ship.

"What the hell is going on?!" Yuki exclaimed to the empty hallway, her voice echoing off the walls. She could hear the desperation in her tone as the walls bounced her words back to her.

"You tell me."

Yuki reeled around, spotting another person walking down the hallway, arms crossed. They were also in pajamas, a pair of long, swaying silk pants and a tight sleep shirt. "Let me guess. You woke up with no memories, too?" they asked in far too casual a tone for the situation they were in.

"Y-Yes..." Yuki took a tentative step back. She was naturally weary of strangers, even those who seemed to be in the same position as her. As the person approached, though, they kept their arms crossed over their chest, non-threateningly. "Are we seriously on a boat?"

"From the looks of it. Though certainly not one I would choose to be on, my room is far too small, I would have picked a concierge room, or at least something with a veranda," the person reached up to flip their strawberry blonde hair over their shoulder. They, she, sounded more irritated by the situation than scared, which Yuki could hardly understand. "My name's Emiko Oe. Who are you?"

Emiko Oe? That name sounded a bit familiar, but Yuki couldn't quite place it. "Yuki. Yuki Otake."

"I'd say nice to meet you, but I think I'll hold off on that judgement until we figure out just what kind of situation we're in," Emiko said bluntly, looking around. "Do you think we were kidnapped?"

Yuki blinked at her. "Why would we be kidnapped though?"

Emiko scoffed. "Do you not know who I am?" a hint of amusement tinged her otherwise bored-sounding voice.

"I mean, you seem familiar..."

"The Youthful and Desperate."

Yuki blinked once. Twice. Then, recognition hit her like a ton of bricks. "The soap opera! You're the lead character!"

"Ding ding ding," for the first time the whole conversation, Emiko's lips twitched upwards into a laidback smile. "And you're an author."

Yuki reeled. "Y-You know my work?"

"Sure I do, any fan of murder mystery knows the name Yuki Otake. Two big names like ours, we must have been kidnapped," still, Emiko sounded far too unbothered about the whole thing.

"Why aren't you freaking out?!" Yuki asked incredulously before she could stop herself.

"I'll start freaking out when I find a reason to," Emiko stated, looking around at the drab hallway. "I hardly feel threatened on a half-rate cruise ship. Especially now since I've found you."

Emiko was a very strange person. But Yuki figured there should be at least one level head amongst the two of them. Yuki tried for a deep, calming breath, but it got caught and stuttered in her chest. She looked around, running her fingers through her hair, before her eyes stopped on the door of the room she just stepped out of. There were numbers on the door, 212. But alarmingly, there was also a digital portrait beside the door. It was pixelated, and rather cartoony, but there was no mistaking the deep, crimson hair tied in a braid and resting over the shoulder of the pale avatar. That was her. Or, a picture of her.

So, 212 was supposed to be her room, then?

"Did you find something like this where you woke up?" Yuki asked, pointing at her portrait.

"Sure, it was outside my door. But it looked like me," Emiko said, looking up at the portrait with vague interest. "I woke up just down the hall. I guess these are supposed to be our rooms?"

"Isn't it weird, though?" Yuki asked. "If we're kidnapped, why would we have our own rooms, and free reign to walk around as we please?"

"I would hardly call this free reign," Emiko scoffed. "We're on a ship in the middle of the ocean. Where are we going to escape to?"

Yuki cringed as she realized Emiko had a point. But before they could continue their conversation, another door opened, startling Yuki and making her jump. The two girls looked over and saw a third girl poke her head out into the hallway.

"No...way..." the girl breathed. When her eyes landed on the two of them, she stumbled out of her room towards them. "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you two-?"

"Have any memories of how we got on this boat?" Emiko finished for her. "Nope. Sorry."

The girl was tall, heavyset, and opposite of Emiko, looked very, very concerned. "Oh...oh no..."

"Don't worry..." Yuki tried a pathetic attempt at sounding comforting, but she could hear her own anxiety seep into her tone. "W-We're going to figure this out."

"What's your name?" Emiko asked. "I think we've been kidnapped."

"I'm...Rei. Rei Okata."

"Emiko Oe."

"Yuki Otake."

"Oh! Hey, Makoto! I think I found the girl's hallway!" a new voice pierced through the air from far down the hallway. The three girls turned to see a group of boys approaching them. The one leading the pack was a tall, lean boy, who's trimmed muscles showed through his pajamas. He waved his hands in the air.

"Hey! Do you girls have any idea where we are?!"

Emiko stepped in between Yuki and Rei and the boys protectively, her arms still crossed. Yuki sensed an air of protectiveness that she wasn't going to object to, cowering behind the soap opera actress. Emiko, still looking bored, was clearly skeptical of the boys.

"No. Do you?" she asked demandingly. The muscular boy slowed down, looking confused.

"No, that's why I asked you," he explained. "My name's Ryo Tani. You're Oe, right? The famous actress?"

Rei gasped beside Yuki, just now realizing Emiko's identity.

"Who's asking?" Emiko asked, giving the boy a once over.

"Like I said. Ryo," he held out his hand. "I'm a dancer with the Tokyo Ballet."

"Wow," Rei breathed. "You must be really good."

"I like to think I'm pretty good," Ryo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, smiling with a small blush as the rest of the boys caught up to the group. "Oh, and here we got Hotaru Saeki, Hikaru Fujumoto, and Makoto Naegi. We all woke up with no memory of how we got on this ship. We found an elevator and took it down here, where we found you guys. I think we all have our own rooms, the floors split up between girls and boys."

"And so far, everyone seems to be a teenager," Makoto noted, putting a thoughtful finger to his lips, cocking his head curiously. "Weird. Why would anyone kidnap a bunch of kids and put them on a cruise ship?"

"Not an impressive cruise ship," Rei mumbled, mostly to herself, looking around at the rather drab hallway.

"That's what I was saying!" Emiko exclaimed, warming up to Rei already. "What is it you guys do?" she asked the other two boys. "Are you famous? Any reason someone would want to kidnap you?"

"I don't know why anyone would kidnap me!" Makoto chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm a completely ordinary guy. I write children's books, but that isn't very impressive."

A fellow author! Yuki perked up at this.

"I run track," Hotaru raised his hand. "I hold some records, but I don't think that's any reason to kidnap me."

"I-I don't think I'm particularly a big deal..." Rei murmured. "Not many people really care about opera..."

"You're an opera singer?" Ryo looked excited at that. "We should totally collab sometime!"

Rei smiled shyly. "Collab? Sure..."

"There's not really a running theme here," Emiko muttered, pinching her chin. "Yuki," she turned to glance behind her. "What do you make of all this?"

Yuki jumped in surprise, not expecting to be called out. "M-Me?"

"Yeah. You."

"Oh. Uh," Yuki looked around at the group, then at their surroundings. "Well, it's pretty notable that all of us have some kind of job we're known for, even though we're all just kids."

"That's a good point. Most kids don't write published books," Ryo nudged Makoto playfully. He laughed, rubbing the back of his head again in a seemingly signature motion.

"I guess that's true."

"Now that I think about it...do we go to the same school?" Yuki asked. "I mean, I can't...I can't remember what school I go to."

"Huh, that's right," Hotaru agreed. "I have no idea. But I have to go to school, right? I mean, I run track! There should be a school team I run for, right?"

"I mean, I figured I was just homeschooled," Emiko pondered. "But it's strange that I don't remember that. I remember being in my show, and I remember reading some of your work," she pointed at Yuki. "But not remembering school?"

"And if none of us remember, does that mean someone was able to collectively erase all of our memories?"

"Oh, oh?"

A new voice pierced through the conversation curiously. They all spun to face the elevator, where the shortest boy stood, blinking curiously at them. "What's this?" he asked himself. "Did I find my captors? Was I kidnapped into sexual slavery and now I'm forced to have an orgy with the ugliest people ever?"

"What the hell?" Emiko reeled back, looking disgusted. "Who the hell are you?"

"Oh, so you didn't kidnap me?" the boy questioned, looking around at the others. "You all look just as confused as me. I just woke up on a cruise ship with no memory of how I got here!"

Noticeably, this boy was not wearing pajamas like everyone else. Rather, he was decked out in a black and white outfit. A white vest over an equally white button-up shirt, though the top three buttons were undone, revealing soft, pale skin and a slender collarbone. He wore tight black pants with several white and silver chain belts, looping around his waist and hanging at loose, jaunty angles. He had an artist's pencil tucked behind his ear, tugging at some of his dark purple hair. Along with that, he had a white measuring tape hanging around his neck and a pair of scissors hanging from his belt.

Feeling her gaze, the boy looked over at Yuki, studying his outfit. He smiled knowingly. "What? Didn't think to check out your closet before you stepped out of your room?"

Evidently, no one did, and suddenly everyone was looking a bit more ashamed standing around in their pajamas. Everyone, that is, except Emiko.

"You wake up in a tiny room on a strange ship and your first thought was to change into clothes?" she scoffed.

"Honey, I never go outside without looking my best," the boy scoffed right back. "And it seems our captors were kind enough to bring my own clothes with me, and leave them in the closet for me when I woke up."

"Okay, so maybe none of us thought to look in our closets before wandering around!" Ryo exclaimed. "But is that so wrong? We're all on this weird ship with no memories! There are bigger priorities!"

"Appearance is the biggest priority, babe," the boy gave Ryo a once-over, and smirked, seemingly deeming his 'appearance' good enough. "I'm Kokichi Oma. And who is it I have the displeasure of being stuck on a boat with?"

No one jumped to answer him. Feeling awkward, Yuki took a step forward.

"I'm Yuki Otake."

Kokichi Oma grinned from ear to ear, holding out one tiny, slender hand. "Echanté, Yuki Otake."

Hesitantly, Yuki accepted the strange, flamboyant boy's hand and shook it.

Seeing Kokichi standing was a brutal shock.

Though he supposed he should have expected it, Kaito's jaw still dropped when he watched as Kokichi not only stood, but walked into frame, from his tv at home. The Danganronpa season fifty four premiere was today, and many of his friends came out of the woodworks to watch with him. Miu and Kaede had cozied up on one side of the couch beside Kaito, Miu's leg draped messily over his lap. Gonta sat on the other side, leaning forward anxiously and taking up the rest of the couch. Rantaro lounged on the floor, leaning his back against Gonta's leg. Ryoma found himself in a giant, cozy beanbag chair, his cat sleeping on his lap. Shuichi refused to sit still, pacing up and down the giant living room in Kaito's home, but still watching intently.

On screen, Kokichi was dressed in his traditional black and white, but in an entirely new outfit to go with his new Talent. Ultimate Fashion Designer. And Mastermind. Ugh.

When Mx. Chihiro had sent the leaked cast list to them, everyone had freaked out. With Kokichi cast as the mastermind of season fifty four, that brought up a whole new set of complications. Of course, he was never going to have his old memories to help him out. But now, he was written to not only enjoy the killing game, but to keep it going. At least, if Kokichi had been a regular student along with the others, he would still have been against the killing game. Now?

Now, Kaito didn't know what to do.

Hence, the stress-induced cuddle pile.

"I know he was not gonna be in a wheelchair in the simulation, but it's still jarring, seeing the kid this way," Ryoma admitted from the floor, absentmindedly petting his sleeping cat.

"I agree," Rantaro sighed. "But we have to take it as a good sign. None of his physical complications will make this game harder for him."

"It's hard to see anything as a good sign, right now," Shuichi said from across the room, turning to pace back towards them. "He's the mastermind."

"Mx. Chihiro told us that they had several backup plans," Rantaro pointed out. "We can't lose hope because of this one setback. We can still end the game. It may just...be a little harder, now."

"If Kokichi can be forced to be the mastermind by the writers, then...what about Tsumugi?" Gonta asked cautiously. All eyes turned to him at the mention of her name. "Is it...possible that she was just a normal person too, who was cast into the mastermind role by the writers?"

"I don't know," Kaito was ashamed to admit. He had been so furious with Tsumugi, he hadn't even considered that a possibility. "I mean, the way she was talking in that final trial, it sure sounded like she wasn't a normal cast member, but an employee for Danganronpa."

"Maybe some Danganronpa employees put themselves into the show, to make sure it runs smoothly," Shuchi theorized.

"You think there's an employee in there right now?" Ryoma nodded at the screen.

"Not sure. But Mx. Chihiro would have told us if they recognized anyone, right?" Kaito asked.

"What'll we do if Tsumugi was forced into her Mastermind role, just like the rest of us?" Shuichi asked, arms crossed over his chest. Miu scoffed.

"What do you mean, what'll we do?"

"Well, if she really was just written by Danganronpa to be that way...should we try to help her?" Shuichi tried, sounding not too sure of it himself.

"Help her how?" Ryoma asked, skeptical but not unkind. "We have no idea where she is. Even if she is different than the Tsumugi we know, there's nothing we can do about it."

"Our killing game is in the past," Rantaro added sagely. "We need to focus on this one, now. We need to focus on Kokichi."

"Rantaro's right," Kaito agreed, with no hesitation. "Tsumugi isn't our problem anymore. Danganronpa is," he turned to look back at the screen, where Kokichi was introducing himself to the other students.

"He's acting a little weird," Ryoma noted, sensing the need for a change in topic.

"Yeah. It's a lot like his old personality, but there are some differences," Rantaro agreed, pinching his chin.

"Like he can walk?" Miu scoffed distastefully.

"Nah, they made him more...stereotypically flamboyant?" Rantaro tried.

"As if that were even possible," Miu chuckled. "The twink was 'flamboyant' enough as is."

"Be nice, Miu," Kaito grumbled, knowing that even the harsh nature of Miu's words were all in respect for Kokichi, as backwards as that was. "But yeah, he's definitely acting a little different. He actually seems nicer, less antagonistic?"

"Maybe to help hide his identity as the mastermind?" Shuichi guessed. "Can't be too nice, can't be too mean. Either way is suspicious. Unlike our game, where he wasn't the mastermind, and he didn't worry about coming off as too mean."

He wasn't so bad, in the beginning, Kaede signed. He only started to get really mean in the later chapters, when he was feeling more desperate.

"Still, there is something different," Gonta pointed out. "He's acting less childish right now."

"Good point," Shuichi agreed. "Less antagonistic, less childish, and more flamboyant. I wonder if Danganronpa made these changes for any particular reason."

Rantaro tucked his knee to his chest. "I know Mx. Chihiro has a plan, but it's really worrying, seeing him like this. He is a different person now, the old Kokichi is completely gone."

"No," Kaito insisted. "Because we're here to keep him alive."

"A nice sentiment," Ryoma muttered jadedly. "But belief alone isn't going to help the kid anymore."

"Mx. Chihiro has a plan!" Kaito exclaimed.

"They have part of one," Shuichi added, nervously rubbing his hands together. "But we can't just watch from the sidelines. What can we do?"

Miu perked up. "Actually, I might have an idea, if Mx. Chihiro is willing to collab."

Mx. Chihiro sat in their cubicle, flipping through Danganronpa footage on their three monitors. They leaned forward intently, chin resting on their fist, their other hand tapping loudly at the keys to flip to different microcameras. When they settled on the secret camera in the girl's hallway, their fingers froze, hovering above the keyboard.

All of the students have assembled, Kokichi included. One by one, they had made it down into the girl's hallway, meeting each other for the "first time". Kokichi. Yuki. Emiko. Ryo. Rei. Hotaru. Tatsuo. Kimi. Aaliyah. Seiichi. Ayumi. Keiji. Hisoka. Hikaru. Tohru.

Makoto.

Chihiro had been thrown off by Makoto.

Who the hell was that?

They were wrapping up introductions now. Kimi and Aaliyah had been the final two to join the party, both showing up in character-motivated pajamas. Kokichi had been the only one with the forethought to get dressed, and it made sense. Kimi introduced herself as a tennis player, Aaliyah, the only American in the group, as an ornithologist. No 'Ultimate' titles to speak of yet. Chihiro knew that no one had the 'memories' of their Ultimate titles yet. That wasn't their job. As a coder, Chihiro primarily kept the killing game up and running. Someone else was working on gathering footage for broadcasting to the public, and yet another on keeping the characters 'in-character'.

But Chihiro had to keep the game running.

And all of the students were in one area, all introduced to each other.

Chihiro knew what that meant next.

INPUT: <ACCESS>

ACTIVATE

A black and white bear in a sailor's uniform popped from the ground, flailing his arms wildly. All the students reeled back in shock, including Kokichi, who was putting on one hell of a performance as the mastermind.

"Who the hell is this guy?!" Emiko exclaimed from the footage.

"A toy bear?" Kokichi questioned. "His outfit is cute though."

"Oh, sonny, I am no toy!" Monokuma announced, startling the students once again as they realized this bear could talk.

Blah, blah, blah, introduce the killing game, blah, blah, blah, everyone starts freaking out.

Chihiro doesn't have the time to care about the plot, or all the typical Danganronpa fanfare. The schtick was this: this season took place on a cruise ship. They only have access to the cabins for now, but the hallways and deck would open up as time passed, and certain checkpoints were met. Such as the first murder. Monokuma, or 'Captain Monokuma', as he was insisting on being called, hasn't introduced any sort of motive yet. Perhaps to give the audience some time to watch how the new cast members react to such a reality.

INPUT: <backdoor.v3>

Kokichi visibly flinched on screen, blinking blearily at Monokuma. He quickly schooled his face back to his new character's; confused, concerned, and a touch offended. With no more reaction than that, Mx. Chihiro sighed.

It hadn't been a perfect plan.

Just then, the notification ping from God. It came from Chihiro's personal phone, as well as their smartwatch, untracked by Danganronpa. Chihiro took a peek and saw that Miu Iruma had sent them another coded email. Chihiro was quick to glance away, pretending the notification was unimportant. Just because their personal device wasn't being tracked, didn't mean they weren't constantly being watched.

They had to wait for the perfect moment.

Unfortunately, that meant sitting for quite a bit longer during Captain Monokuma's spiel. Class trial, blah, blah, blah, don't get caught, blah, blah, blah, executions.

After a droning amount of time, Captain Monokuma finally slipped back down through the floor, leaving the new cast of Danganronpa 54 to react to the news. Unsurprisingly, everyone was panicking. But there was one thing Chihiro was counting on.

Yuki was the protagonist.

All the attention would be on her, the redheaded 'murder mystery author'. And it seemed Emiko was maybe shaping up to be her partner, if the pattern continued the way it did. Though Ryo did make a solid possibility at a love interest. And Makoto...Makoto was still suspicious to Chihiro. He certainly looked like Makoto from the first season, but...

The group started to split up, and Chihiro perked up in their chair. A small group decided to follow Yuki to investigate. Emiko, Rei the opera singer, Ryo the ballet dancer, and Makoto the children's author.

Kokichi feigned boredom and said he'll investigate on his own, though he will be in the boy's hall if anyone decided to 'sneak up and kill him while he was vulnerable'. The rest of the group did not appreciate the joke, but Chihiro appreciated the out.

The students were going to investigate. Monokuma won't come back for a while, and no killing game motives would start any time soon. It was the perfect time to slip away.

Snagging their personal cell phone off the desk, Chihiro slipped out of their cubicle and went to the bathroom. They locked the stall behind them, sat down on the toilet, and opened Miu's email.

Got a program you may be interested in.

And a heavy duty attachment.

Chapter Text

Yuki, flanked by Emiko, Rei, Ryo, and Makoto, ended up investigating the halls of the cruise ship. After that strange bear- Monokuma?- announced the commencement of the killing game, the already sour mood had dampened greatly. A tense fog hung over the group, and no one dared to speak.

"Hey, check this out," Ryo noted, peering into a small doorway in the hall. The rest of the group followed, and they found a small grab-and-go food mart. It was mostly junk food, instant ramen, sodas, chips. There was a cash register, but no one manning it.

"We won't starve to death, at least," Ryo commented.

"Great, we'll die of sodium intake," Emiko grumbled sarcastically, picking up a soda to inspect it. 'Panta'. She set it back down, unimpressed. "Aren't cruise ships supposed to have buffets, restaurants?"

"Maybe there are some of those in the closed-off areas?" Makoto guessed, studying the chip selection. "The parts of the ship that Monokuma said would open up eventually?"

"Yeah, when someone gets murdered," Emiko rolled her eyes, glancing over her shoulder at the children's author. "You planning on killing someone to get a buffet, Naegi?"

"N-No!" Makoto reeled back, looking horrified.

"Cut him some slack, Emiko, we're all freaking out," Ryo sighed, looking over some seran-wrapped fruit. "Look, something of nutritional value." He started pocketing some of the food.

"W-Wait!" Rei stuttered nervously, wringing her hands together. "Can we really take all of this without paying for it?"

"I don't see anyone at the register," Ryo shrugged, snagging a pack of instant ramen. "And we need to eat."

"Should we leave some money?" Rei asked, looking around at the others.

"Did Monokuma leave any money in your room?" Emiko asked in turn, and Rei wilted. Feeling uncomfortable, Yuki finally spoke up for the first time.

"I think we will be okay if we just take the food," she said, the attention turning to her. "I know it's not ideal, but if this is all that's available to us, we have to eat."

"You're right, Yuki," Rei sighed.

"Well put," Emiko clapped Yuki on the shoulder, causing the author to wobble. "We can let the others know what we've found. Maybe the idea of food will at least cheer them up a little bit."

Yuki sulked. It would be hard to cheer anyone up after the horrible news. A killing game, being trapped on a cruise ship, forced to kill each other. A number of people stood up to Monokuma, like Ryo, Emiko, Aaliyah. They all claimed, whole-heartedly, that they would 'never kill someone'. But there were others who looks like they could slip into despair, like Seiichi, Rei, and Makoto. And Yuki herself, honestly. No one else seemed to really be thinking about the big picture. They are trapped. On the ocean. How will they ever get out of this?

Other than to cave and give in to what Monokuma wants?

"You seem to be deep in thought," Emiko noted, pulling Yuki out of her thoughts. "What do you make of all this, murder-expert?"

"Please don't call me that," Yuki wilted. "And...I'm worried. I know everyone said they wouldn't resort to murder, but the fact of the matter is, we don't know each other," she pointed out to the rest of the group. "We're trapped, with no hope of getting home. We need to come up with a system of some kind, keep each other accountable."

"That's not a bad idea," Ryo said, having sat on top of the register counter, long legs swinging through the air.

"Maybe we should call a meeting," Makoto offered. "Figure out a way we can keep eyes on each other. I want to trust everyone here...I mean, no one would really kill, right?"

"You're pretty naive if you really believe that," Emiko scoffed. "We're in a pretty drastic situation, as is. And Monokuma seems hellbent on getting us to kill each other. I bet he has more tricks up his sleeve, plans to make us desperate."

"Then we can't let that get to us!" Makoto exclaimed. "We have to be stronger than him."

"I like Yuki's plan," Emiko said. "We need an accountability plan. We can't go on blind faith. That's how you get killed."

Makoto wilted a bit, and Yuki felt somewhat guilty. She put a hand on his shoulder. "I don't think anyone here is a truly bad person," she said, in an attempt to cheer him up. "We just have to be careful."

You never know who you can, and can't, trust.

With no one watching, Kokichi managed to slip away and into the bridge, a part of the ship that was completely inaccessible to all but the mastermind. In it, he was surrounded by three walls of windows, looking out onto the ever-expansive sea. The boat was moving speedily along, the clouds rolling past in the sky. The control panel was full of flickering bells and whistles, most of which Kokichi admittedly did not know how to use. There was a radio, but it was useless with no other boats to communicate with.

Comfortable, knowing the cameras couldn't reach him in here, Kokichi lounged back in his chair, his heeled shoes propped up on the control panel, a lollipop twirling around his teeth. The telltale sounds of Monokuma's pacing came from behind him.

"And we're off," Kokichi drawled quietly over his lollipop.

"A-Plus acting on your part, Mister 'Fashion Designer'," Monokuma giggled.

"Hey, I heard those quotation marks," Kokichi pointed his lollipop at Monokuma. "I am a real fashion designer. I just wanted to use my design skills to try something new," he sighed, leaning back in the chair with a smile. "Killing games."

"Yes, yes, very diabolical," Monokuma snickered. "So, Mastermind, when do you want to reveal the first motive?"

"Let's let them settle first," Kokichi said, waving down at Monokuma. "We can't bombard them. Let the kids wander around, realize how small this ship really is with all of it closed off. They'll get antsy, soon enough."

"Alrighty then. And how exactly are you planning to get them motivated? Do you have a first motive yet?"

"I don't want to have some lazy, repeat of Junko Enoshima's killing game," Kokichi drawled over his lollipop. "I'm going to outshine Big Sis in every way possible."

"Oh, oh?" Monokuma put a paw up to his mouth, cocking his head. "And how do you intend to do that?"

"That's for me to figure out," Kokichi whined, spinning around in his chair to finally face Monokuma. "Don't you worry your adorable black and white head. You'll get your killing game."

"Yeah, I better, kid," Monokuma revealed his sharpened claws, though Kokichi wasn't the least bit intimidated. With an evil laugh, Monokuma bounced and disappeared into the floor, leaving Kokichi alone. An itching sensation arose from under his sleeve, and Kokichi frowned, scratching at his arm again.

Away from the cameras, Kokichi pulled his sleeve down, revealing a strange tattoo. Small, seemingly nonsense lettering. He had first noticed the tattoo on his arm when he had changed into his outfit in his cabin. He had no memory of getting this tattoo.

Now that I'm alone, I can try and figure this out, Kokichi mused. It must be a code of some kind. Why the hell would he have a tattooed coded message on his arm?!

Blf dzmg gl vmw gsv proormt tznv.

At first glance, it looked like an English alphabet-shifting code. So, not only did he have to figure out the code, he had to translate it from English. Not too hard, considering Kokichi was fluent in English as well as Russian and Japanese. Drawing from his English knowledge, he traced a finger over the letters, shivering at the goosebumps and prickles underneath his skin.

Looks like they are forming basic words, Kokichi thought to himself. Not too hard of a code to figure out, if that were the case. A three letter word, then four, then two...it looked like it formed a single English sentence. If it was a shifted letter code, then he should start with the basic, the backwards alphabet code.

He took out a sheet of paper and started to write the English alphabet, forwards and backwards, in two lines.

A Z

B Y

C X

D W

E V

F U

G T

H S

I R

J Q

K P

L O

M N

N M

O L

P K

Q J

R I

S H

T G

U F

V E

W D

X C

Y B

Z A

With his template finished, Kokichi started to translate the message on the bottom half of the sheet.

Y-O-U...

W-A-N-T...

T-O...

E-N-D...

T-H-E...

K-I-

Kokichi stopped before he could finish the sentence, staring down at the almost finished message. No, no way. There was no way it was spelling out what he thought it was spelling out. He looked back down at the tattoo. Sure enough, the last two words were seven letter word, then a four letter word. He could figure out the context from there.

You want to end the killing game.

No.

Kokichi started to tear the paper into small pieces. No, he didn't. This was his killing game. Why would he want to end a killing game that he started?! How did this tattoo get on his body in the first place?!

He stood from the chair so abruptly it spun around in circles. He stormed over to one of the many windows and slid it open, holding out his clenched fist. The salty wind blasted through the window, blowing his hair back frantically. He unclenched his fist, and the wind ripped away the many torn pieces of paper from his grasp. The torn up message fluttered away, and he watched as it flew behind the ship and out into the ocean. With a snarl, he slammed the window shut again.

No. He was the mastermind of this game.

You want to end the killing game.

No matter what, he would have his game. And it would be the best killing game the world had ever seen.

The group watching Danganronpa from Kaito's house had shuffled seating arrangements as time went on. Shuichi had finally sat down, having taken Gonta's offered spot on the couch. It was Gonta's turn to watch standing up. Rantaro had gone to get some paper, and was taking vigorous notes on the coffee table. About what, exactly, Kaito wasn't sure. Miu and Ryoma swapped, so Miu was curled up in a ball on the beanbag chair while Ryoma lounged on the couch on the other side of Kaito. His and Gonta's cat had gotten up to roam around, and was now standing on the back of the couch, accepting pets from Kaede.

"There are so many people to keep track of," Kaito groaned, rubbing his face tiredly. "How are we supposed to keep them all straight?"

"Every killing game had some tropes that they would follow consistently," Rantaro explained, flipping through his pages of notes. "Aside from a protagonist and a mastermind, there would also be a support character and an antagonist. The support character helps the protagonist solve the murders, and the antagonist is a character that rivals the protagonist, but isn't the mastermind." He looked up at nodded at the screen, which showed Yuki and Makoto deep in conversation. "It looks like this 'Makoto Naegi' guy is going to fill the role of the former. The Support. Though Emiko Oe might also be in the running for that. Either The Support, or the friend of the protagonist that ends up being the first victim."

"Jeez, I hope not," Miu rasped, her knees comfortably curled into her chest. "She's the only one making any damn sense in this group."

"But Makoto has talked about trusting each other quite a few times now," Ryoma pointed out. "That's classic Support, right? I mean, Kaito was the Support in our game, wasn't he?"

Kaito straightened. "Huh. I guess I was."

"And he would never shut the fuck up about trusting each other," Miu said, causing Kaito to send her a hurt look. She raised her hands defensively. "Sorry, bud, it's how you were written."

"Wait a second," Shuichi put a hand to his mouth, catching their attention.

"Yeah, bro?" Kaito questioned.

"Makoto Naegi," Shuichi said. "I know that name, I remember that name."

"The storybook kid? What about him?" Ryoma asked.

"Aha," Shuichi sat up, looking alarmed despite the realization. "You may not remember, since you died before it happened. But at the last trial, Tsumugi started cosplaying as all these fictional characters. Makoto Naegi was one of them. He was the Ultimate Lucky Student from the very first season of Danganronpa."

"Wait, I thought the bitch couldn't cosplay real people?" Miu pointed out. "She had those gross-ass rashes."

"Cospox," Shuichi needlessly corrected. "And you're exactly right, Miu."

"So, what are you saying?" Kaito asked nervously. Shuichi looked at him, biting his lip with concern.

"The first two seasons of Danganronpa were fictional. Actually fictional. None of this real-fiction they did with us, they didn't start that 'till season three."

"Wait, deadass fictional?!" Miu exclaimed. "So that means-"

"Makoto Naegi isn't real," Shuichi answered. "He's an actual fictional character."

"Then..." Kaito trailed off, glancing at the screen where Makoto was enthusiastically having a conversation with Yuki and the others. "Who is that?"

"Maybe it's another real life person who inspired the first Danganronpa characters," Rantaro said. "Like Mx. Chihiro."

"Maybe, but wouldn't they be pretty old by now?" Ryoma asked.

Maybe the simulation can effect appearances, and age? Kaede signed. I mean, it made Kokichi stand.

"That's a good point, but maybe we should still ask Mx. Chihiro," Gonta said. "Maybe they will know what is going on, and why a character from season one is back."

"Okay, so we got either Makoto or Emiko as the Support," Kaito turned back to Rantaro. "Anything else we should know that would be helpful?"

"I can't make out any form of antagonist yet," Rantaro admitted. "They all have big personalities, but no one has been necessarily negative towards Yuki, you know?"

"Right, Kokichi came out guns blazing in our game," Shuichi said. "He may have not been fully 'evil', at least at that point, but he was certainly pressing people's buttons."

"Aside from Support and Antagonist, there are possible love interests, sometimes there's a serial killer plot twist, but that would probably be hard to figure out from here," Rantaro said. "Oh, and someone who's not Japanese, every cast has one."

"Aaliyah, her name was," Ryoma nodded at the screen. "The American. She was the...um...bird scientist?"

"Ornithologist," Gonta provided. 

"The one that I find particularly suspicious is Kimi Nakamoto," Rantaro pointed out. "She's cast as the Ultimate Tennis Champion."

"What?" Gonta breathed in surprise, glancing at his roommate with confusion. "But...isn't Ryoma...?"

"Yeah, Danganronpa doesn't seem the type to cast someone with the same Ultimate Talent two seasons in a row," Ryoma mused. "Maybe they're setting her up for a twist? Like Maki, who wasn't actually the Ultimate Child Caregiver?" 

"Or, maybe Danganronpa is running out of ideas," Kaito scoffed. "Sixteen different students with very specific Talents, for fifty four seasons? That's a ton of people."

"I wonder who will be the first to kill..." Rantaro mused, tapping his lip with his pencil.

"Maybe no one will kill!" Kaito tried, but received a dry look from his roommate.

"Everyone says that," Rantaro deadpanned. "And someone always ends up dead."

"It's a simulation, Kaito," Shuichi put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "They won't actually die."

Kaito sighed. He supposed there was some solace in that, at least. But, as someone who came out of the other side of the simulation, life doesn't just return to normal after a killing game.

"What are we gonna do?" he asked, his voice betraying a hint of desperation and hopelessness. He could feel the unfortunate gazes of his castmates, but couldn't look them in the eye.

"We have faith in Kokichi," Gonta spoke up earnestly. The gazes turned to him, and he smiled. "Kokichi always has a plan."

"Our Kokichi always had a plan," Ryoma corrected. "But this new Kokichi?"

"We still have aces up our sleeves," Kaito insisted. "We can't lose hope yet." He winced, cringing at his unfortunate wording. "You know what I mean."

"Right, like the real-world definition of hope," Rantaro added. "Not whatever twisted thing Danganronpa warped it into meaning."

"Besides, Kokichi did take some precautionary measures before going back into the simulation," Shuichi pointed out. "I'm not sure what they were, or who they involved, but he didn't just blindly jump in."

"I wish he could have clued us in on his 'precautionary measures'," Kaito grumbled, resting his chin on his fist. "It would make me less stressed out, that's for sure."

"If that kid knew the anxiety he causes the rest of us," Ryoma shook his head with a low chuckle. Rantaro smirked in amusement.

"I think he knows exactly how much anxiety he causes, he just doesn't care."

"He sometimes even takes joy in it," Kaito added, feeling a nostalgic grin pull at his lips.

"Speaking of, look!" Gonta pointed at the screen. "Kokichi is back!"

The group hadn't seen where Kokichi had wandered off to, but he was back now, along with the rest of the cast, regrouping after an initial investigation.

"I don't know if this is the most ideal meeting spot..." Tatsuo, the drummer, mumbled. He was a tall, lanky boy, with mussed red hair and several piercings and tattoos. If old fans of Danganronpa were watching, they would probably compare him to season one's Leon.

All sixteen teens on the cruise ship ended up back in the girl's hallway, seated on the floor and leaning against the walls. By now, they had all changed out of their pajamas, and into the clothes that were left for them in their closets.

"Well, we took a look around, and there's really no open spaces right now," Ryo explained. "Monokuma was right. We only have access to the cabins for now."

"We can't even get fresh air..." Kimi, the tennis player, whimpered, curling her knees into her chest, eyebrows drawn in. She was an athletic-looking girl, with her blonde hair tied up into a ponytail since they last met. It seems the clothes that were left for her were for playing tennis, as she was wearing athletic shorts and a jersey-material tank top.

"It's gonna get real cramped real fast," Kokichi pointed out, cheek resting on his fist.

"We do have food," Makoto explained, holding up a pack of instant ramen he swiped from the grab-and-go. "It's not the fanciest, but it's better than nothing."

"There's a hot plate and microwave in there as well, so we don't have to eat dry noodles," Ryo added in a cheerful tone, trying to be optimistic.

"We're not sure if it's a limited stock, or if Monokuma will refill as time goes on, so eat sparingly," Emiko said.

"I took a look around as well," Aaliyah, the American ornithologist, spoke up, sitting with her legs crossed underneath her. She had dark skin, and her black hair was done into box braids, which were held back by a red bandana. She was dressed as if she were out on an expedition, with sandy cargo pants and a light green shirt tucked into the waistband. Her boots seemed a bit clunky, for walking around a cruise ship, but they must have been her only option, if she chose to wear them out here. "There are quite a few doors, but all of them were locked, and I couldn't break any down. At least, not alone. The elevator has buttons for other levels, but nothing happens when you press them."

"Monokuma said the closed parts of the ships will only open after there has been a murder," Tohru, the business woman, pointed out. Her black hair was smoothed back into a braided bun, and while she did claim to be a business woman, she did dress somewhat casually, in a blouse and dress pants. "If you were unable to break the door down, I imagine none of us will be able to. But maybe some of the more athletic of us can try?"

"Good idea, it's not like I have the strongest kick," Aaliyah agreed.

"I can give it a shot," Ryo offered, dance having strengthened and hardened the muscles in his legs. "Kimi, would you wanna join me in trying?"

"Sure, I can try," Kimi said. "Anyone else here feel particularly up to the challenge?"

"I'm just a track runner, but I can give it a shot," Hotaru raised his hand. He had light, feathery orange hair, and was dressed similarly to Kimi. Keiji, the green-haired, manbun-rocking stunt man raised his hand as well, but had nothing to say.

"I'm afraid my noodle limbs will be of no help to you all," Kokichi sighed dramatically, waving his 'noodle arms' for extra effect. "But I still think it's a waste of effort. If Monokuma says we can't get out, I highly doubt you are gonna be able to just break your way out."

"Well, it doesn't hurt to try!" Makoto insisted, clenching his fists with determination. "I may not be the most athletic, but I will do what I can to help out!"

"I would say 'break a leg', but I feel like that might be counter productive," Kokichi sneered. Makoto wilted at the clearly derogatory comment, while Emiko bristled at it.

"Hey, you little brat, don't give him shit just 'cause he's being optimistic," she snapped. Kokichi snickered in her direction.

"Oh? So you believe that they'll break down the doors through sheer force of will?"

Emiko frowned, clearly skeptical herself, but not wanting to agree with Kokichi. "I say doing anything is better than sitting around, waiting to get killed."

"Well, I certainly don't want anyone to kill me while I'm sitting around," Kokichi admitted with an air of childish innocence, leaning back on his hands and swinging his feet on his heels.

"I don't know, guys," Seiichi, the robotics engineer, spoke up. They had their shaggy silver hair pulled slightly out of their eyes by being tucked behind their ear, and they wore a nerdy-looking pair of suspenders over a generic school uniform. "I might have to agree with Oma on this one. Whatever Monokuma is, I doubt he would make the doors so easy to break down."

"Well, you're a roboticist, aren't you?" Hikaru asked. The archery bow slung over his shoulder was enough of a hint that he was an archer, though he didn't find any arrows in his room. He had long brown hair, that had been down over his shoulders when they met, but was now tied into a sloppy ponytail on the back of his head. "Do you think you could try and figure out what Monokuma is, and how to stop him?"

"You think he's a robot?" Aaliyah asked the archer.

"What else would he be?" Hikaru shrugged. Meanwhile, Seiichi was pinching their chin in thought.

"I can try, but I'm not sure someone like Monokuma would even let me get close enough to examine him," they admitted. "It's not a bad idea, though."

"So instead of trying to break out through brute force and the 'power of friendship', we'll try to figure out how Monokuma ticks, huh?" Kokichi mused. He felt a certain twinge of familiarity at mocking their blind trust and friendship, but he thought nothing of it. He never found blind trust without evidence to be that impressive. Only naive morons would immediately try to work as a team. Someone was going to crack under the pressure, and start off his killing game.

"Maybe we can trick Monokuma into getting close to us," Hisoka, the online personality and influencer, mentioned. She had bright, pink hair, that was tied up into cute little pigtails. She was just edging into lolita territory, but was tall and mature enough to avoid falling headfirst into it. "Knock him out, so Hano can take him apart," she nodded at Seiichi.

"That seems unlikely," Ayumi, the food critic, disagreed. She was in an unmarked schoolgirl's outfit that was similar to Hisoka, Rei, and Makoto's, but upon closer inspection, she had ink splotches all over the wrists of her sleeves. Her hair was a dark black as well, braided down her back, with her bangs hanging into her purple eyes. "If he is a robot, he can't just be 'knocked out' like a human can. Hano, do you know of any ways you can remotely disable him?"

"A good idea, but without equipment, I don't know how we'll manage that," Seiichi sighed. "And my cabin was completely void of any materials I could use. You guys didn't happen to find anything useful like that, did you?"

"Just an old fashioned register at the grab-and-go," Ryo grumbled.

"So, there's no way we can hack him?" Rei asked, fidgeting nervously with her fingers.

"So we're back to brute force?" Hotaru figured. Keiji wordlessly nodded beside him, his expression not giving away if he felt particularly positive or negative about it.

"Brute force on Monokuma?" Kokichi scoffed. "If you want to get killed, sure."

"What?!" Ryo snapped, glaring over at Kokichi. He raised his hands defensively.

"Hey, don't get mad at me, it's in the rules," he smiled.

"Oma's right," Seiichi looked up from their Monopad, a tablet that Monokuma had passed out to everyone upon introduction. "It's there. 'No harm can befall the Captain'."

"And if we break any of these rules, Monokuma will kill us on the spot," Aaliyah added.

"Shit, so we can't remotely hack him, and we can't physically knock him out for Hano to get to," Ryo frowned. "We're running low on ideas here, then."

"Yuki?" Emiko spoke up. "Any thoughts?"

All heads turned to Yuki, who had been particularly quiet during this whole meeting. Her knees were curled to her chest, and one hand was fiddling with the crimson braid hanging over her shoulder. She perked up at her name, looking around at the fifteen kids who watched her expectantly. Had they been waiting for her to chime in? Certainly they didn't think a mere authoress like herself would have any kind of leadership capabilities in a setting like this. She didn't want to be a leader. But, everyone else had spoken but her. She owed them something. Yuki slowly lowered her knees from her chest, crossing her legs under herself. She took a deep breath.

"I don't think we'll be able to manually break down the door," she started. "But Ryo is right. It's better than nothing. And Monokuma can't kill us for it. I say the more athletic among us should still give it a shot. The next thing we should do is make sure there is nothing lying around that can be used as a weapon. There were forks and knives in the grab-and-go, and those can't stay. Chopsticks and spoons only. We will take whatever we find that can be used as a weapon and throw it out the porthole, into the water. We should only eat food from the grab-and-go that we personally prepare for ourselves. I think it's a good idea not to reveal any food allergies to each other, just in case someone tries to poison someone that way. The safest bet is to go to the grab-and-go yourself and prepare your own food. Obviously, cabin doors should be locked. I know the Monokuma rules say at night, but I think it should be all the time, whether you are in there or not. When outside the cabins, we should probably form a buddy system. None of us know each other, but things are objectively safer in numbers. In fact, ignore the buddy system. We will go in groups of three or more, at all times. If we just used partners, it would be far too likely for someone to try to kill their partner. If the group is three or more, then there are witnesses. No one smart would make a move then. As for now, that is all I can think of. It won't help for escape, but it will help with safety."

Yuki fell silent, looking back up at the group after her monologue. They all stared at her, wide-eyed, and she suddenly felt self-conscious, tucking her knees back to her chest and leaning against the wall, trying to make herself as small as possible.

"Damn," Emiko breathed quietly, sounding almost impressed. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

Yuki looked up at her in surprise, not expecting that reaction. Makoto, on the other hand, looked devastated.

"You really think we need to take all those measures?" he asked. "I just can't believe that someone would try to murder someone like that."

"We don't know each other," Yuki pointed out, motioning around at the hallway of strangers. "I want to trust you all, but Monokuma is keeping us locked in these two hallways for a reason. He's trying to make us desperate. I don't know how long any of us can withstand being holed up in here. But if we go with these guidelines, we can at least keep someone from getting killed from that desperation."

"I gotta agree with Yuki on this one," Aaliyah admitted, pinching her chin. "I still want to find a way to destroy that creepy little bear, and I am certainly not giving in to whatever sick idea of a 'game' he has, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

"I agree as well," Seiichi said. "We are already getting claustrophobic in here, and with our food supply so limited, there's no saying how long we'll go before we snap. Humans do bad things, when pushed far enough."

"Wow, you certainly had a whole plan ready," Kokichi drawled, feigning intrigue. "Murder-expert indeed."

"I'm just a writer," Yuki sighed, getting frustrated with the 'murder-expert' tag that multiple people have seemed to put on her. "But honestly, this is the kind of stuff people in my stories think about, when they're in a desperate situation. It's not perfect, but it's the best that I can do."

"I think it's brilliant," Emiko smiled down at Yuki.

"I think it's fiction," Kokichi pointed out. "So, we'll all just go off a plan based on a book?"

"I like it," Ryo finally said, earning a grateful smile from Yuki. "I really do. I still wanna smash that door in, but it doesn't hurt to have a concrete plan on keeping these halls murder-free."

"Then we should get started," Emiko stood up from the floor, the rest of the group following. "Let's go to the grab-and-go and throw the forks out the window!"

"Porthole," Yuki corrected quietly, underneath the following cheers of the rest of the teens. However, a smile still tugged at her lips. People actually liked her ideas. Maybe they really can get through this.

"She should have come to me earlier," Chihiro mumbled, illuminated by their computer screen in the dark room of their apartment. Their fingers were flying across the keyboard as they spoke. "I mean, this is literally my gimmick."

"Miu is independent," someone responded from the dark. "Sometimes to her own detriment."

An awfully flattering image of Miu, though Chihiro supposed it wasn't incorrect. Still, "This is game changing," Chihiro said.

"I imagine that's why Kokichi went through the effort to kidnap me in the first place."

Chihiro chuckled at that. "Well, he certainly knows how to plan ahead. I'm glad at least one of his gambles so far has worked out."

"All thanks to you, Mx. Chihiro."

"Oh, Miu was close," Chihiro waved off the praise. "She did a lot of great work. Danganronpa coding is...complicated, and one-of-a-kind. It's hard to crack, and hard to duplicate. Luckily, Danganronpa coding is my specialty."

"I owe you a great deal, Mx. Chihiro. I hate how I let Danganronpa manipulate me to do their bidding, again. I fell into their hands. I gave them exactly what they were looking for."

"It's not your fault, you had no control over that," Chihiro pointed out.

"Still, you have saved me. You have brought me back to life. Thank you. I am in your debt."

"Don't say things like that," Chihiro cringed. "You do realize that I will immediately be turning around and using you in season fifty four? I'd hardly call that 'savior' material, so you certainly shouldn't feel indebted to me."

"It's the least I can do. Besides, I am more than happy to try and help Kokichi, even if they reprogrammed him to be the mastermind."

"I'm glad to hear that," Chihiro's fingers slowed to a stop, before they finally released the keyboard and leaned back in their chair, resting their tired arms on the armrests. "How are you feeling, Kiibo?"

"Much better!" Kiibo's avatar responded from the screen of Chihiro's personal computer. "Thank you so much!"

((And here is an AMAZING piece of art by stockimagebusinessman of Kokichi as the Ultimate Fashion Designer! I'm seriously so so so flattered that you drew this, and I'm blown away by seeing the boy in your art style! It's so dynamic, and it exactly encapsulates Mastermind Kokichi. Everyone go support them on Tumblr!!))

Chapter Text

There were a few issues with Big Sis Junko's games.

First, the killing started way too fast. There was only time to really get to know one person, and that's not enough to really care about the people you're stuck with. The only truly despairing deaths come later in the game, when the numbers have thinned and they finally start to bond. To care.

In order to make a killing game far surpass Big Sis, Kokichi was going to have to make things entertaining. And fast.

Alas, the limit to two hallways was making that hard.

He tried not to pout as he lazily watched Hotaru, the runner, Kimi, the tennis player, Keiji, the stuntman, Makoto, the children's author, and Ryo, the ballet dancer, all try their hardest to knock down the door. Honestly, the attempt was so passionate, Kokichi almost wanted to remotely open the door to reward them. Almost.

But he did have more fun watching people try and fail.

"Damn it!" Ryo snapped after a particularly strenuous attack, stumbling back away from the door and wiping sweat from his brow. "I don't think it's happening, guys."

"Well, it was worth a shot!" Makoto clenched his fists in determination. The pure optimism radiating from that kid was already starting to drive Kokichi nuts. That only made him more eager to watch the hope in his eyes morph into despair.

"Yeahhhh, watching a bunch of fit, sweaty guys kick a door was a good use of my time," Kokichi drawled, fanning himself. "This is certainly doing it for me."

"Dude," Ryo deadpanned.

"Oh, you look cute too, Kimi-chan," Kokichi waggled his fingers at the only girl in their group. She looked unimpressed, but wasn't confrontational enough to say anything.

"So, you didn't come to help, huh?" Makoto wilted slightly, and Kokichi had to hold back a condescending chuckle.

"Babe, you know I like to watch, but if you had wanted me to join in, you could have just asked," Kokichi said with a flirtatious wink, drawing another groan from Ryo. Makoto blinked innocently at the innuendo, and Kokichi frowned.

"Makoto, dude, you are too wholesome for your own good," Ryo ruffled the hair of the shorter boy. "Never change."

"As fun as this banter is, the door is still not budging," Hotaru kicked at the door with his toe, more out of frustration than out of any attempt to get it open.

"Yeah, well, it was a long shot," Ryo sighed, planting his hands on his hips and giving the door a once over. "Yuki was right. We may be here for the long haul, guys."

The second issue with Big Sis Junko's games were the motives. Oh sure, some were interesting, but most were super boring, drawing on the needs of a specific person, targeting them to make them the Blackened. No, every person here had the potential to be a killer, not just the ones Kokichi decided would make good Blackeneds. He wanted to see who would cave first, under the same motivation as everyone else.

Pure. Human. Desperation.

Monokuma may not see what he was going for. But Kokichi did. Keeping them trapped here will make them feel claustrophobic, frantic, desperate. Without any real food or fresh air, the students will be whittled down to the very essence of existence. Survival. The animalistic instinct to kill, so that you may live.

And wasn't that just so much more fun?

He wondered who would give in first.

b̴̞͖̋a̵̘͐͊̓̚c̶̜̯̞̅͆̿̉ͅk̸̫̆͂̈́d̶̛̲̥̒͘ỏ̷̯̭ȯ̸̯̅ŗ̵̳͎͓̀̐̒͝.̴̡̻͈̭̅̊̕͝v̴̡͛3̸͔̓

Kokichi blinked the fuzziness out of his eyes. Had he spaced out for a second? He shook his head a bit, trying to shake off the strange feeling. The tattoo under his sleeve itched. There was something, a thought, maybe even a voice, in the back of his head, but it was fading away before he could try to focus on it. He looked up at his companions, but it seemed none of them had noticed his lapse in attention.

Maybe I'm just hungry, he thought to himself. He hadn't really given himself access to any real food, either. It was not an oversight, Kokichi just liked to play his games fair. He had to feel the same desperation the others were going to feel. The bridge was the only other part of the ship Kokichi had access to, and that was merely to make sure the game kept going. This all lead into issue number three:

Big Sis never participated in her games.

She watched from afar as 'classmates' of hers killed each other. Maybe she felt some sort of attachment to them, but she was never in there, living the same life as them. She was detached. Kokichi was committed, which meant he was in this, for better or for worse. This game was to outshine Junko's, and he would do that by experiencing the despair that she never could. Fair, unbiased participation. If he were to end up a victim, or even a culprit, then so be it.

That is the will of the mastermi-

b̵͔̿͝å̴̪͌c̸̮̏́k̶̖̓d̵̡̈ö̴̖̞́̓ŏ̸̹͂r̶̙̺̊.̵̙͈͛͗v̵̼̽3̸̬̈͂

Again, Kokichi found himself shaking off a weird feeling. It lasted only a second, barely enough time to even consider it 'spacing out'. Something was pulling at his attention, but he didn't know what. He scratched at his forearm, feeling the tingling prickle of not completely healed skin.

Maybe he needed some rest. It was hard to tell in the cramped space, but evening has come, their free hours spent in meetings or in attempts to escape. The first day of the killing game has passed. Everyone has grown a little closer today.

While the group of volunteers went to go attempt to knock the door down- a most likely futile venture- Yuki found herself in her own group, returning to the grab-and-go. Emiko, Tohru, the business woman, Aaliyah, the ornithologist, and Seiichi, the roboticist joined her in seeking out the potential weapons she had mentioned in the meeting. A pile of forks and knives- plastic and metal- was forming on the counter.

"As morbid of a thought process as it was, this was a good idea, Yuki," Aaliyah mused, letting her handful of utensils clatter to the counter. "And that stuff about the food allergies? I would have never thought about it."

"Some of it may be a stretch," Yuki admitted meekly. "But I just want to be extra careful."

"Nah, it's good to have a brain like yours around, in a situation like this," Aaliyah said.

"I agree. While I want to share some of our peers' optimism, you gave us a concrete plan to work with to prevent the worst case scenario," Tohru added. "I have to commend you for that."

"All I did was try to think of ways someone could kill someone else in here," Yuki shrugged, shrinking away from the compliments. As an author, most compliments she received were reviews, and she wasn't used to face-to-face praise.

"Don't worry, Yuki," Emiko put a hand on her shoulder, her smiling glowing like the television star she was. "We will figure this out. Thanks for giving us a starting point."

"I just wish I could be more useful," Seiichi sighed. "I mean, we're being held hostage by a robot, for Pete's sake. That's literally what I do."

"Until we can find you some tools, there's nothing we can really do about Monokuma," Aaliyah was leaning against the counter now, bracing her tall body on her elbows and sticking her heels out. "But I refuse to give in to his crazy demands."

"Right," Seiichi nodded, sounding significantly less confident than Aaliyah. They set the utensils they had been gathering in the pile with a bit more grace than Aaliyah had before. "I just wonder why a robot bear would want to see a bunch of teens trapped on a boat kill each other?"

"Because whoever built Monokuma has a sick, sick mind," Emiko snarled to herself. "They're probably controlling him from behind the scenes."

"That makes sense. I doubt a robot bear could plan something like this all by himself. He must have a human master, someone who is the true mastermind behind this whole scheme."

"Mastermind, huh?" Seiichi tapped their chin. "A sound theory. But what would they benefit from capturing us and demanding that we kill each other?"

"Some twisted kind of entertainment?" Emiko posited.

"Maybe they hold a grudge," Aaliyah tried. "Or they just hate teenagers?"

"Maybe someone built Monokuma to be the captain of a regular cruise ship, but then lost control of the AI," Tohru added.

"That sounds like something right out of a dystopian novel," Seiichi pointed out. "A rogue AI that wants humans to kill each other?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, Hano, but we're kind of living the dystopian novel life right now," Emiko motioned to their surroundings. "I think it's possible an AI can hate humans, and plot for them to kill each other."

"Are we just the start of the robot uprising?" Aaliyah's eyes widened in worry.

"If I understand robots as well as I think I do, then we should be relatively far away from any kind of robot uprising," Seiichi said.

"That may be true. Isn't it called Asimov's First Law of Robotics?" Tohru asked.

"Well, yes, that does exist, but it is more science fiction than an actual law of robotics," Seiichi corrected. "But still, from my understanding, AI is not advanced enough to try and overthrow humanity, like how movies try to make it seem. Maybe someday, but not yet."

"So then, what?" Aaliyah asked. "Monokuma wants to kill us, why?"

"Maybe this is not the most important question," Yuki finally spoke up, though it was still quiet. Her companions heard it, however, and she shrunk under their gazes as they all turned to look at her. "W-What I mean is, is the 'why' really more important than the 'how to escape', at least for now?"

"I would certainly like to know why the hell I'm trapped on a boat with a bunch of strangers," Aaliyah grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I-I'm not saying that it's unimportant!" Yuki defended. "And it's hard to not be curious about it. But I think we need to figure out a way to get out of here, beyond anything else."

"If this is a normal ship," Seiichi murmured. "It should have a radio."

"I'm sure we don't have easy access to something like that," Tohru said.

"Maybe that can be tomorrow's plan," Yuki mused. "Today is precautionary, taking steps to make sure no one will get killed. Tomorrow, we will start looking for a way to contact someone on the outside."

"That sounds like a good plan, Yuki," Emiko smiled, ever encouraging. "Let's head back to the cabins, for now."

Yuki had been the one to collect the giant pile of utensils. Tohru held the porthole open, while Yuki let the potential weapons slip from her fingers, tumbling down into the sea. It was hard to see, through the tiny porthole, but the decently-sized pile made an audible splash. Yuki remained for a second, feeling the salty wind hit her face. She stared down at the ocean below her, growing dark as the last remains of a sunset left the sky a dark, navy blue. When she looked up, she could see a plethora of stars, hanging in the darkest part of the sky.

Freedom was so close, yet so far away.

Finally, she peeled herself away from the porthole, letting Tohru and Seiichi work together to clamp it back shut. Emiko threw a friendly arm over her shoulder, steering her out of the grab-and-go and back towards the cabins.

"You did a good job today, y'know?" Emiko said quietly. Yuki tensed a little bit, and the drama actress smiled. "You're too hard on yourself."

"I didn't even say anything..." Yuki mumbled.

"I know," Emiko leaned down, trying to bring her face down to Yuki's shorter level. She tapped her temple with a playful grin. "I'm just a mind reader."

"Thank you," Yuki said. "For the support."

"Of course!" Emiko exclaimed, straightening back up to her full, almost towering height. "And I didn't just do it 'cause I like your books, you know? I like where your head is at. You're productive, ready to help, and full of great ideas. Some of these other guys," she waved her hand around. "They're too optimistic. They think they'll win with the 'power of friendship'. And some of the others are too pessimistic, thinking there is literally no way to escape this situation." Emiko glanced down at Yuki with a proud little smirk. "You're like me."

"Like you?"

"A realist. You recognize the seriousness of our situation, and are working for a real solution. The guys can kick at doors all they want, but you're the one who gave us a real strategy to avoid any deaths. You're a good leader, Yuki."

L-Leader? No, no way. Yuki was no leader. She was as shut-in, a murder mystery author, not expert. Sure, her career has made her pretty adept at coming up with...creative solutions to this situation, but that didn't make her a leader.

Ryo could be a good leader. He was personable, extroverted, and eager to encourage the others.

Or Aaliyah. She was smart, determined, and clearly good at working in a team.

Or Tohru. As a business woman, she already has a leadership quality about her, not to mention being cool and collected under pressure.

Or even Kokichi, in his own, strange way. He was a little antagonizing, and more than a little flirtatious. But he joked and bantered with the others, keeping even a situation like this light and breezy. He made his opinions known, and even if he didn't like an idea, he would still tag along. He was certainly a weird character, one that Yuki could envision writing as an anti-hero in one of her stories.

Or Emiko. Yuki glanced up at her companion. The television star who had decided, pretty immediately, that they would be a pair of unlikely friends. Emiko was straightforward, confident, and not afraid to share what's on her mind. She commands a room. She would make a much better leader.

"Get out of your head, Yuki," Emiko poked Yuki's forehead, ripping her out of her own thoughts. "I can see you getting lost in there."

"Oh, sorry," Yuki blushed, bowing her head. Emiko slowed to a stop, and Yuki looked up, seeing they were in front of her cabin.

"I don't mean to stress you out," Emiko said gently, the tone kind of surprising Yuki. "Get some rest, okay? We will figure out more tomorrow."

We. That was more like it. Yuki smiled uncertainly. "Goodnight, Emiko."

"Goodnight, Yuki."

Kokichi shot up in bed, silent but on full alert, ripped away from his sleep for...some reason. Maybe a nightmare? Whatever it had been, he couldn't remember it now, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of his tiny cabin. It was the middle of the night. Everyone must be asleep by now, with only Monokuma keeping vigilance over the ship. He rubbed his face tiredly, unsure of the nature of his dream. Whatever it was, it left him wide awake now. He tossed off the blanket and slipped out of his cabin, unnoticed.

He took his secret path back to the bridge of the ship. He put both hands on the monitor and leaned forward, taking a deep breath.

You want to end the killing game, his tattoo says. But that makes no sense.

The world outside the windows was dark, almost pitch black. A half moon in the sky, surrounded by stars, did illuminate the ocean somewhat, but with no land around to speak of, there was really nothing to see down there. The only interesting place to look was up.

Up, were stars were so plentiful, it's like they drew small, white lines across a black canvas. A galaxy blending together above him. They were so far away, and out on the ocean, with no obstacles to obscure it, it truly looked like it went on forever. Like the sky was a giant cloth tent, draped over them and gently curving in the distance. Kokichi had never seen stars like this. Uninterrupted by human existence. Just the pure, vast, natural state of the sky. It was beautiful, honestly. And it reminded him of some̵̼͎͐̈o̷̩̩̒n̷͙͉̹̦̯̍̑̚e̶̥̿͛̎͂̌-

It reminded him of how alone they really were.

They were the only people out here, floating on the sea.

b̵͔̿͝å̴̪͌c̸̮̏́k̶̖̓d̵̡̈ö̴̖̞́̓ŏ̸̹͂r̶̙̺̊.̵̙͈͛͗v̵̼̽3̸̬̈͂

"K...kichi..."

Kokichi flinched, probably more violently than he should have, reeling towards the ship's radio, where he was certain he had just heard a crackling voice. There shouldn't be anyone on these waters, trying to reach his boat. Who is on the same frequency? He stared, wide-eyed, at the radio, waiting for it to sound off again. His hands trembled at his sides.

After another moment of silence, he stumbled towards the radio, reaching out for it. He froze in his tracks, however, when the radio crackled again.

"...kichi...you...th-ere? Chzzzzz...saved...life...coming to...help..."

What? What?! Kokichi couldn't make out any coherent sentences, but it was clear someone was trying to reach him, specifically. Strangely, Kokichi felt relieved that Monokuma and his cameras didn't have access to the bridge, so he truly was the only one hearing this. He felt an anxious strangle in his throat, his eyes starting to burn mysteriously.

Feeling a pull forward, Kokichi gave into gravity and lunged for the comm. He pressed a button down and held it to his face. "Who is this? Identify yourself!"

b̵͔̿͝å̴̪͌c̸̮̏́k̶̖̓d̵̡̈ö̴̖̞́̓ŏ̸̹͂r̶̙̺̊.̵̙͈͛͗v̵̼̽3̸̬̈͂

"Kok...! I'm bac...! Normal...here to...lp..."

No, they still weren't making any sense. Worse, however, was the fact that they were referring to him by name. That much, he could make out. 

"How do you know who I am?" he asked frantically into the comm. He was too taken aback to have the forethought not to reveal himself. "What do you want?!" 

"Kokichi! It's L̶̯̀̈́̽j̷͈̤̤́j̶͕͐̑̔č̴͔͙͑p̷̡͕̈́͆͆! I'm going to help-!"

Whatever 'L̶̯̀̈́̽j̷͈̤̤́j̶͕͐̑̔č̴͔͙͑p̷̡͕̈́͆͆' had to say, it got cut off, the radio falling into intelligible static. Kokichi leaned away from the receiver, eyebrows drawn in tightly, confusion and worry unmasked in his solitude.

"What the he-

Kokichi's eyes flew open. His eyes quickly adjusted to his dark surroundings, and he found himself staring up at the ceiling of his cabin. Slowly, he sat up in bed, blearily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Whatever he had been dreaming about, the memory of it had faded away, and left nothing but a slight sense of confusion and unease.

"Monokuma," he whispered, a bit frantically, into the darkness before he could really think about it. It was dark, and Kokichi could barely make out the spot in the floor that Monokuma popped out of.

"At your service!" Monokuma claimed cheerfully. Kokichi shushed him with a hiss.

"Be quiet! I just wanted to see if anything was up tonight."

Monokuma tilted his head, putting a paw to his 'chin'. "Hm, nothing especially notable. No one has left their rooms all night long. Boooring."

Hm. Maybe the feeling of unease was unwarranted, after all. "We have to be patient," Kokichi sighed, leaning back on his hands. "Nothing happens on night one. We need everyone to get a little more desperate, first." Kokichi pinched his chin in thought. "Don't refill the grab-and-go, tonight."

"Oh?" Monokuma sounded interested. "I thought you wanted me to refill it every night!"

"I know," Kokichi sighed. "But don't, just for tonight. If they see that the food is finite, it will stir up desperation quickly. The fastest way to conflict is to limit the food supply."

"I like how you think, Mastermind!" Monokuma giggled. "But, do you want me to bring you extra food in secret?"

"No," Kokichi waved him off. "No special treatment. I want to see how this goes. I want to feel how they feel."

"Very well," Monokuma drawled with a dark sort of amusement. Kokichi didn't bother to acknowledge it. He was not an idiot. He knew how much Monokuma took joy in other people's suffering, and even as the Mastermind, he knew that he was no exception. Monokuma lived to see him feel despair. But never mind that. As long as they could work together to make this killing game successful, Kokichi didn't particularly care if Monokuma was rooting for his suffering. At the end of the day, they both have the same goal. 

"And make some sort of reveal, tomorrow," Kokichi added, his own brain stirring with ideas. "Nothing huge. Something to give them a little hope. A memory, or a possible escape tactic. Things will get boring if they only have the same stuff to work with as yesterday."

"A reveal, got it!" Monokuma affirmed.

"Okay," Kokichi sighed, a deep breath releasing some of the tension in his chest. This was how it was supposed to be. Brainstorming ideas, musing on how to milk as much entertainment and despair out of this group as possible. This was his role, as the Mastermind. Whatever discomfort, or unease, he had been feeling, was merely growing pains. Certainly, Big Sis went through the same kind of confusions. However, her killing games remained monotonous, and Kokichi will not have that here. He will dangle as many carrots as he needed to. Positive reinforcement, swiftly followed by negative reinforcement. A sliver of hope, dashed away as quickly as it comes. Big Sis Junko may have thrived off of the despair she caused, but Kokichi was the master of toying with people's emotions. He can play them like puppets.

H̵e̷ ̴h̵a̷s̷ ̸d̷o̴n̷e̸ i̸̜͝t̵͙͝ ̶̩̾b̵͈̋e̵̳̓f̷̪̓̄̊ò̵͎̦̫͑r̷͈͈̫̙̐̓̅e̸̺̭̝͑͌̃̅̅-

Day one went well.

Day two will go even better.

Chapter Text

Kaito watched as his tv screen faded to black as the last of the students closed and locked their cabin doors for the night. He blinked. "T-That's it?!"

"Done with day one," Rantaro mused. "Did you really think we were going to be able to watch them sleep?"

Kaito whipped his head around, noticing through his giant back windows that the sun had indeed set. He turned back to the group. "But, what if Kokichi makes a move?"

"Work hours are done. Mx. Chihiro will probably be contacting us soon," Shuichi surmised. "Maybe we can get some more information that way."

Day one of the killing game has already ended. And had they made any progress towards Kokichi's goal? Kaito slammed a fist down, though it wasn't very effective, as his target was the surface of the couch. "We can't just keep sitting around and watching! This isn't why Kokichi had us escape the hospital. This isn't why he agreed to go back in the game! He wants to end Danganronpa, and we're just letting another season happen right before our eyes!"

"Kokichi took a gamble," Ryoma said, deadpan and as serious as ever. "That's what he does. He took a gamble entering the games, and Danganronpa made a counterattack by making him the mastermind."

"But Kokichi took precautions...right?" Gonta asked nervously.

"Some we don't even know about ourselves," Kaito pointed out.

"Well, there was that mysterious contact who brought Mx. Chihiro and us together," Rantaro said, putting a finger to his chin. "I wonder if Kokichi had something to do with that, as well?"

"We need to contact Mx. Chihiro, and talk about what our plans are moving forward," Kaito said. "We-"

He was interrupted by Miu, who, seconds ago, had been reading something on her phone. She suddenly scrambled up from the couch and stumbled out of the room, surprising everyone, and with no explanation. Kaito blinked at the spot where Miu had exited.

"What was that about?"

"I can go check on her," Rantaro chuckled, rising from the floor and starting to collect the empty plates and bowls that had been scattered around the living room. Lunches and dinners that passed watching the full stream of Danganronpa's first day. "Probably just has something to check on her computer."

"Yeah, probably," Kaito sighed, sitting back down in the chair.

"I'm going to see what she's up to. Shuichi, cheer up your boy, please? Tell him everything will be alright," Rantaro said with a teasing air of exhaustion, waving a handful of plates in Kaito's direction. Kaito frowned up at his roommate, but the boy only smiled and slipped away. Shuichi sat down next to Kaito, in the spot that had been taken by Miu. He set a hand on Kaito's shoulder.

"I know you're stressed out," Shuichi whispered. "We all are. And this change in casting and making Kokichi the mastermind is no help. But Kokichi only did this because he had faith in us. Well, you. He trusted you, Kaito. Do you think he misplaced that trust?"

Kaito sulked in what was definitelytotallynotapout. "No..."

"Good," Shuichi smiled. "You taught me how to have more confidence, Kaito. Not only confidence in myself, but confidence in my friends. And he may not like it, but Kokichi is my friend."

Kaito looked over at Shuichi with surprise, which only made Shuichi's smile grow.

"We're going to end Danganronpa."

"Guys!" Rantaro's voice came from the other room. "Come here! Miu's office!"

The rest of the residents, Kaito, Shuichi, Kaede, Gonta, and Ryoma, looked at each other with unmasked confusion. One by one, they all stood up, following Kaito down the hall to Miu's office. The room was dark, like Miu had just run in without bothering to turn the lights on. Across the room, Rantaro and Miu were haloed in light by one of Miu's several monitors.

"What's going on?" Shuichi asked hesitantly, as they all stepped inside. Gonta did have to manuever a bit to get through the doorway. "Is everything okay?"

"Is everything okay?!" Miu gasped, spinning to face them while Rantaro muttered a useless protest, something about 'Miu, your voice...'. Kaito felt the tightness in his chest loosen when he saw that Miu had a wide grin stretched across her face. "Everything is fucking friggin' fantastic!"

"You don't have to say 'fucking' and 'friggin''..." Ryoma mumbled.

"Everyone, say hi!" Miu wheeled her chair to the side, so her body was no longer obscuring the screen, revealing-

"Kiibo?!" Shuichi gasped. Kaito's eyes widened, waiting for the AI's response.

"Everyone!" Kiibo's avatar exclaimed. "I missed you all! I am so, so, so sorry for my behavior in the hospi-"

"YOU'RE BACK!" came a chorus of voices from the group, stumbling towards the computer in teary joy. Kiibo's eyes widened with surprise, but he was still smiling as his old classmates babbled at the computer.

"Yes, I'm back, I'm back!" Kiibo laughed. The emotion emanating from the little icon was proof alone that Kiibo had been restored to their Kiibo. "Miu did a lot of great work to bring me back, the last step was to send me over to Mx. Chihiro, who untangled the last of my coding. Danganronpa coding is hard to crack."

"Hell yeah it is, and it's not like I was written to be the Ultimate Coder," Miu crossed her arms.

"Miu, thank you for working so hard to bring me back. I owe you my life," Kiibo said earnestly, his little head dipping into a body-less bow. Miu's face went bright red, and she turned away, scratching the edge of her nose.

"D-Don't go sayin' shit like that, Kiibs...I'm just..." Miu lowered her hand with a tiny smile. "I'm so happy you're back."

"Not only am I back, but Mx. Chihiro has worked my coding into a firewall in the Danganronpa server," Kiibo explained.

"Firewall?" Gonta mumbled, confused.

"It's something they call backdoor.v3. It's an attempt to keep the Mastermind coding from fully taking over Kokichi's brain," Kiibo said. "With an advanced AI, such as myself, as a part of that coding, we can try and reach out to Kokichi!"

"You're kidding!" Kaito gasped, a feeling of relief washing over him. "So, he won't be the Mastermind?"

"Well, it's not as simple as that," Kiibo sighed. "Mx. Chihiro and I are trying our best to overwrite Danganronpa's coding, but it's spotty at best right now. But it may be Kokichi's best line of defense against Danganronpa."

"That's great, Kiibo," Shuichi grinned enthusiastically.

"It's the least I can do," Kiibo said. "I know the only reason I'm fully restored is because Kokichi came up with the plan to kidnap my drive. There is something else I noticed, as well. Kokichi has a tattoo, on his forearm, hidden underneath his sleeve. It's encoded. Does anyone have any memory of Kokichi having a tattoo in our season?"

"What? No!" Kaito exclaimed. "I would have remembered that."

"That's what I thought..." Kiibo sighed. "I think Kokichi got the tattoo before he went into this simulation. As you know, appearances generally stay the same as someone enters the simulation."

"So... if the one who got the tattoo was our Kokichi...and it's in code..." Shuichi pinched his chin. "Then maybe it's a reminder of his old self."

"That's my theory, too," Kiibo looked excited that Shuichi had come to the same conclusion.

"That kid," Kaito chuckled, shaking his head. "Always full of surprises."

"That's the truth," Kiibo nodded, with the same amount of wistfulness and fondness in his voice.

"Hey, Kiibo, can you see what Kokichi is up to now?" Kaito asked.

"Sure, I'm monitoring him at all times, so I can alert you if something is ever up," Kiibo said. "However, he is just asleep right now, everyone is. It does not seem like there will be any more activity for tonight."

"Well, that's good, at least," Kaito sighed.

"Oh, um Miu? Just so you know, now that I'm in your computer, I can tell that you have an invite to some kind of chat," Kiibo changed the subject, his little icon turning back towards Miu.

"Oh?" Miu sat up.

"What kind of chat?" Rantaro asked.

"Well, it is on an application called Snapchat."

"Snapchat? Never heard of it," Ryoma said.

"Me neither. But then again, I feel like there's a lot about the real world we still don't know," Rantaro said. "We do kind of keep to ourselves."

"Snapchat is an application where you can chat or share pictures with people," Kiibo explained, two little loading icons popping up in his 'eyes' to show he were probably reading off something. "As soon as the message is read, it is deleted from all devices."

"Deleted?" Gonta questioned. "Why would anyone want a chat application that deletes itself?"

"To keep things secret," Ryoma mumbled, instantly understanding.

"Should I answer?" Miu asked, looking over her shoulder at the group. Everyone shrugged, but were generally nodding.

"I will pull it up now," Kiibo said, his icon disappearing as if sucked into a void. An app pulled up on Miu's computer. She quickly made an account with some throwaway email, and opened up the chat invite.

"Danganronpa Fan Club?" Shuichi scoffed with disgust at the name of the chat. Nevertheless, Miu opened up the first message.

Admin: Do not be fooled by the title of the chat, Miu Iruma. I am hardly a fan of DR. This is to remain inconspicuous.

Miu raised an eyebrow. "Jeez, who types with this much grammar?" She leaned over and started to type, even as the chat disappeared after she read it.

M1U1ZHAWT: ok and who the hell are you then

M1U1ZHAWT: and how did u kno how to reach me

M1U1ZHAWT: and u kno u can pick ur own fuckin username, so i kno u picked admin urself

The group watched as the text deleted themselves one by one. Kaito shot Rantaro a suspicious look.

Admin: I can answer that all in time.

Admin: For now, you should know that I have the same goal as Kokichi.

"What?!" Kaito gasped. "How the fuck does this person know about Kokichi and his goals?!"

"Is this Danganronpa, trying to trick us?" Rantaro asked the computer. Kiibo's voice came out of it, even with his icon hidden.

"I do not think so. None of Danganronpa's servers are running this application. This is someone else."

M1U1ZHAWT: oh yeah? and what goal is that, exactly?

Admin: To end DanganRonpa.

A ripple of tension through the crowd around the computer. "Well, I guess that clears it up," Kaito mumbled.

Admin: You and your roommates are not the only ones trying to end the killing games once and for all, Miu.

M1U1ZHAWT: and how tf do u kno who my roommates r, u stalker/?!

"Miu, the way you type is painful to read," Ryoma muttered.

"Oh yeah, you want to be critical, how about you do it?!" Miu growled over her shoulder.

"Enough, enough, look, they're typing," Rantaro said.

Admin: Again, I can answer that all in time. I apologize for using an app such as this, but it was the only way I can get your attention without drawing too much attention to the group.

M1U1ZHAWT: what group?

Admin: A group I have assembled, online and in person. A group of people who all agree that DanganRonpa has become something horrible and perverse. The number has grown to the thousands, Miu. We can work together to end the killing game.

M1U1ZHAWT: and how do i kno ur legit?

Admin sent a link

"Click on it!" Kaito exclaimed in unison with Ryoma saying "Don't click on it!" The two looked at each other incredulously.

"They're trying to end the killing game!" Kaito said.

"Or they're trying to trick her into downloading a virus," Ryoma motioned to the computer.

"If this is a trap," Kiibo spoke up, his little face popping up over the chat. "Then I will cleanse the computer of any virus before any damage is done. I will protect you guys, it is what I'm here to do."

"With Kiibo as our first line of defense, we have nothing to be afraid of!" Miu cheered, pumping her fists.

"Okay then, guess we're clicking it," Rantaro said. Miu nodded, turning her attention back to the computer and clicking the link. It opened a new application, another chat. It took Miu's expensive computer a couple seconds, but suddenly a huge line of messages scrolled across her screen.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Kaito exclaimed, reeling back.

"This chat...it goes back months!" Miu said as it landed on the first message. She quickly started scrolling through. "And they all are talking about wanting to end Danganronpa?"

"Who are these guys?" Kaito asked, leaning over Miu's chair to get a closer look.

"No one we know. They're just people...people who hate Danganronpa." She turned in her chair to look over her shoulder at the group. "And the Mystery Person was right. There's thousands of them."

The group was silent for a moment, staring at the sprawling page of anti-Danganronpa messaging.

Kokichi is completely paralyzed! This can't possibly be legal, can it?

idk, we've never seen the contracts they sign

poor Miu and Kaede, they cant even talk!

this is some of the worst side-effects ive ever seen post game. is dr's system getting worse and worse?

ugh shuichi had the right idea. this game needs to END

u realize watching the game is only giving more money to those assholes, right?

While you're not wrong, we also can't turn a blind eye. There are pirating websites you can use, that won't give any money, but you can still make sure the participants are doing ok. I'll link a couple!

Thanks!

ugh u are all part of the problem

You talk big, but what have you done to actually end dr?

excuse u! ive gone to more protests than you can count

Protests aren't enough.

"Oh, wait, look!" Rantaro pointed out the message. "That's the person who sent you the Snapchat messages!"

"How do you know?" Ryoma asked.

"Their username is Admin on here, too," Rantaro explained.

Admin: I did not create this group for bickering. I created it for change. If you really want to help the participants of the fifty third season, then we must work together on this.

Admin: I will not explain how, but I do have the ability to reach out to some of the participants. They will remain nameless until they consent to joining our group.

beebug62: no way, really?

Admin: I assure you I am entirely serious. I wish to end Danganronpa once and for all, just like the rest of you. But no one can do it alone. As of this moment, Kokichi Oma of season fifty three is re-entering the simulation. If you want to protect him, and the rest of the innocents who signed up for fifty four, then we need a plan. A big, public plan. And if my contacts agree, then we can bring Danganronpa down for good.

downwithdr: damn, ur really serious about this. i really hope this works

sush445: Come on guys, look at our numbers! We can totally pull this off!

A separate message popped up on Miu's computer, a private one from Admin themself. What do you think?

Instead of responding, Miu returned to the anti-Danganronpa chat. Then, she opened up her camera, making Kaito jump at suddenly seeing himself on the screen.

"Anyone who's in, stay in frame," Miu rasped. The others looked at each other, silently questioning. Then, Kaito threw an arm around Shuichi's shoulders, pulling him close with a confident grin. A wobbly smile tugged at Shuichi's lips, and he stayed in frame. Meanwhile, Rantaro stuck around as well, holding Kaede and Ryoma close. Ryoma seemed hesitant to be on camera, but didn't leave, instead just letting a small smirk appear on his face. Gonta smiled in the back, waving at their tiny selves on the screen. Miu bared her teeth in a ferocious grin, and snapped the selfie on the computer. It sent into the giant group chat, with two words attached.

M1U1ZHAWT: We're in!

"Angie!" a voice called out from the kitchen. "Dessert is ready!"

Angie didn't respond, instead remaining cross-legged on the couch with a sketchbook in hand. Since leaving the simulation, she has been trying to expand her passion for art beyond paintings, so she was using charcoal to sketch something into the book, her tongue poking out just a little from between her teeth. She sat in what seemed like the living room of a very modern apartment, with art hanging on the white walls, yellow-and-red furniture scattered about the room. There was a large television in front of the couch, playing some nighttime infomercials, that usually play after a long program.

"Angie!" a head peeked around the corner, green hair tussled in a sloppy pixie cut. It was Tenko, her unruly hair being held out of her face by a bandana. "Angie, what are you drawing?"

Angie jumped, finally recognizing Tenko's voice, turning to look over her shoulder. "Sorry, Tenko! I'm just...doodling."

"That's way too detailed to be a doodle," Tenko stepped fully out from behind the corner, wiping her hands on a tea towel. "If you want mango cake, you better go now, before Himiko eats it all-" Tenko cut herself off as she could finally make out the sketch from over Angie's shoulder. "Angie..."

"It's just a doodle," Angie pouted, turning her head away. On her sketchbook sat a charcoal portrait of Kokichi, grinning mischievously.

"You're going to make yourself depressed if you keep thinking about it!" Tenko snatched the sketchbook out of Angie's lap, receiving a whiny protest. "I already told you, you shouldn't have watched the first episode."

"Why not?" came another voice. Both girls reeled around to look at Himiko, who was holding a fork (of what had presumably held mango cake) in her teeth. "It's our business what happens in season fifty four, isn't it?"

"No, it isn't!" Tenko huffed, walking away to set the sketchbook down on the table, leaving it open so the drawing wouldn't smear. "Kokichi made his choice, and we made ours."

"But Kaito seemed pretty convinced that Kokichi had a plan," Himiko pointed out. "I don't think he would have gone back in otherwise."

"Girls..." Tenko sighed, sounding exhausted. "Tenk- I know that Kokichi's decision has been weighing heavily on your minds, but-"

"He came up to me in the hospital that one time," Himiko murmured, pulling the fork out of her mouth and fiddling with it shyly. "He was trying to figure out why Shuichi, Maki, and I were still there. He was curious about the therapy." She looked up at Tenko. "I am still a little scared of him, but I don't think he's a bad guy."

Tenko sighed, putting a comforting hand on Himiko's shoulder. "Of course, not." She pulled the smaller girl in for a hug, which got immediately accepted. "Of course he's not. None of us are. Danganronpa is the bad guy." Still hugging Himiko, Tenko turned towards Angie, speaking to her. "I want nothing more than to put the stupid killing game behind us. I don't think any of us will be able to heal until we fully move on. But..." her roommates perked up at the word. "I can't say I'm not worried about the little menace. And no, I don't mean men-ance, I just mean Kokichi always was a little pest," she said with more fondness than irritation. "So Angie, if you want to keep watching, don't do it in secret, okay? It will only hurt more that way. If we're going to do it, we do it together. We protect each other, deal?"

"Deal," Angie rose from the couch to approach her roommates, swooping in to join the hug.

You should be watching him.

Korekiyo did his best to ignore the nagging of Number Five. He could feel her gaze over his shoulder as he sat on Shuichi and Kaede's couch. His wheelchair, expensive, motorized, and paid for by the Danganronpa check, sat beside the couch. His long hair was down and flowing over his shoulders, curtaining his face so he wouldn't have to look at anyone else in here.

Shuichi and Kaede are good people. They went to go watch and support Kokichi.

Well of course, he wouldn't! He's a bad person. He's not good, like them.

Ah, so Number Twenty Three and Number Fourty Seven have joined in. Those two in particular love to chastise him.

You worry for him, came a voice, kinder, and far more angelic than the rest. Still, that was the one that made him flinch. Sister.

"Of course I worry," he mumbled, and he wasn't sure if he were speaking out loud anymore. "He doesn't deserve to go through that hell again."

Just because it is hell for you does not mean it's hell for him, Number Sixty said.

You're the one who has killed so many, Number Ninety Four. He hasn't killed at all. He is more innocent than you.

"Kokichi is a good person..." Korekiyo said, knowing it were true. Close-minded people were tricked by Kokichi's acting, his attempts at villainy and trickery. But Korekiyo is more observant than that. He knows that the surface is hardly the truth. He knows that Kokichi didn't have to help fix his bandages at the hospital. He knows that he didn't have to tell him the truth of the simulation. He could have ignored him, like everyone else. "Kokichi is kind."

Sure, he was kind to you, but do you deserve any kindness? Number Ninety Four asked.

"No...yes...I don't know," Korekiyo found himself at a loss. "I never killed anyone. It wasn't real."

It's real to you, Number Sixty said. It's real to us.

"You are not real," Korekiyo said, more forcefully this time, though he still hid underneath his curtain of hair, refusing to look up. He did not want to see their faces.

If we are not real, then neither is the killing game that your friend is going through right now, said Thirty Five. His suffering is not real. You have no need to worry-

"The suffering is real!" Korekiyo snapped, patience running thin with all of them. "You are not real, and I am not real, but the suffering is! I cannot move my body, I am followed everywhere by you guys, Kaede cannot speak, Angie and Tenko could not bear to look at me, Gonta is frightened of me, Kokichi..." Korekiyo almost trailed off, briefly remembering Kokichi on the floor, twitching and writhing in the throughs of a grand mal seizure. "The suffering is real. And he has signed himself up for more."

The door opened, and Korekiyo's head snapped up, out of his hiding place beneath his hair, so he could stare wide-eyed at the intruders.

Not intruders, but merely Kaede and Shuichi, returning home from their day at Katio, Rantaro and Miu's. Shuichi and Korekiyo made eye contact first.

"Hi, we're back," Shuichi said, noting the obvious. "Were you talking to someone?"

"No," Korekiyo's automatic response came. He knew he couldn't see them, littered around his apartment. "No one at all."

When Korekiyo turned away, he missed Shuichi's expression fall, looking at him with such sadness and pity. Kaede put a hand on his shoulder, walking past him and straight towards Korekiyo. She lowered a box into his lap. He blinked at it while she opened it for him. Food. It was noodles, probably left over from Kaito's.

Eat. She signed a single word, looking into his eyes with fiery determination. That kind of stubbornness always took Korekiyo aback, somewhat. It was admirable.

"Very well," he responded, his voice slightly raspy, though he couldn't be sure why. He looked back down to pick up the fork inside the box, while Kaede shot Shuichi a triumphant smile over his bowed head. "How is he?"

He did not need to be more specific. Shuichi and Kaede knew exactly who he was talking about. "Well, it's obviously not great," Shuichi sighed from his spot behind Korekiyo, in the kitchen. "He seems completely different. I mean, there are similarities, but he is acting...well, not like our Kokichi."

"I suppose that was to be expected," Korekiyo muttered.

"But there is still good news!" Shuichi said. "Our Danganronpa insider, Mx. Chihiro, has managed to restore Kiibo, and they are both using Danganronpa's coding to effect Kokichi in-game."

Korekiyo's head lifted slightly. "Kiibo is back to normal?" Kaede nodded at him with a smile. "That is wonderful news."

"It is. Tomorrow Kaede and I will be staying here, to watch the game," Shuichi said. "You don't have to join us, if you'd like, but-"

"I think I will," Korekiyo decided before he could stop himself. "The news of Kiibo and this Mx. Chihiro is encouraging."

Oh, look who suddenly grew a backbone, Number Fourty Seven chastised. Korekiyo pretends to ignore her.

"That's great, Korekiyo," Shuichi smiled, something brewing in his eyes. Korekiyo was not sure what it was. Hope? He wasn't unaware of Shuichi's attempts to pull Korekiyo out of his own shell. Perhaps he sees this as a sign that his efforts are finally working.

But are they? Number Fifty Seven asked. We're still here, after all.

Yes, they were. They were everywhere he went. Staring at him and speaking through slit necks, or with blood trickling down their torso from an open wound over their heart, or with rings around their eyes and skin as pale as ghosts, or with bloodied wrists, or with water dribbling out of their mouth and bloating pressing out of their skin, or with-

Well, he runs the risk of becoming redundant if he continued.

"It's getting late," Shuichi said, breaking through Korekiyo's thoughts. "We should all be getting to bed soon."

Kaede stood up first, silently declaring that she will do what he says and go get ready. She gave Korekiyo a farewell smile before slipping out of the living room towards her bedroom.

"Do you need help getting back in your chair? Or would you like to finish eating?" Shuichi asked.

"If you don't mind, I would like to get back in," Korekiyo said, quietly. He was none too fond of this part, but it was becoming more...routine. Shuichi came over to the couch, setting Korekiyo's box of noodles aside for a moment. He hooked his arms under Korekiyo's armpits, not unlike a wrestling hold, and hoisted. Korekiyo was a great deal taller than Shuichi, so the boy used to struggle with this part. However, it seems both of them have gotten more accustomed to this, as he swiveled and lowered Korekiyo into his wheelchair pretty smoothly. Once Korekiyo was back in, Shuichi grabbed the box of noodles and set it back on his lap. "Thank you very much, Shuichi. You are noble, for helping me with something like this every night."

"No, not noble, Korekiyo," Shuichi chuckled, blushing a bit a brushing his hair out of his eyes. "It's not noble to help a friend. It's just a normal thing to do." With that, Shuichi retired to his own quarters, leaving Korekiyo alone with his wheelchair and his noodles and his corpses.

Friend. Was all Number Twenty Four had to say, scoffing.

(Emiko design by @stockbusinessman on tumblr!)

Chapter Text

Kokichi woke up feeling strange. Still tired, as if he didn't get a full night's sleep. He did remember waking up briefly to talk with Monokuma, but that was it. He felt like something else was there, in the back of his mind, but...he wasn't sure what.

He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes, then feeling a pang from his arm. He lowered it sharply, clutching onto his forearm, trying to stifle away the pain and itching sensation. It was that damn tattoo.

Blf dzmg gl vmw gsv proormt tznv.

You want to end the killing game.

Why? Why would he want to end the killing game he created? His hands tightened around his forearm, digging his fingernails into his skin and leaving little cresent marks. Remember what Big Sis taught you, he urged himself, disappointed in his own doubt and hesitation. You are going to be...

Kokichi flinched to himself, remembering his Big Sis' words. Right. He had a purpose in life. Big Sis gave him a purpose in life. He wasn't going to waste it because of a mystery tattoo and some weird feelings. With purpose, he threw off his blanket and rose to approach the day. It was so early in the morning, that the sun had barely begun to rise. He was certain not everyone would be awake yet, but Kokichi had always been something of an early riser. Rubbing his eyes and preparing for the harsh glare of the hallway light, Kokichi opened the cabin door.

Ś̵̹͔͕̆̆̀͝ó̶̝̦̟̈́̑̌̈m̶̪̫̰̔̄̋̽̑̅̐̀͝e̸͎̪̻̠̝͈̠̫̽͂͆͛͂́̓̋ö̸̦̻̬̭́̃̓n̸̡͈͋̒͑̂̒̊͐̆e̵̢͔̱̓̽̚͜ was waiting on the other side.

Kokichi flinched, pretty dramatically, stumbling backwards away from the person who had apparently been waiting in his doorway. It was a boy Kokichi didn't recognize. A boy with white hair, a gaudy, sharp ahoge poking out from the top of his head. His eyes were glowing an intrusive teal blue, staring intensely at Kokichi.

Something was screaming in the back of Kokichi's mind, this wasn't right, this is an intruder, someone's been watching you!

Kokichi's entire body tensed with anxiety, heart in his throat, but the apparition was already gone. Disappeared without pizzaz, as if he had never been there at all. Kokichi stared, wide-eyed, at the empty doorway, clutching at his chest to try and settle his rapid-fire heartbeat. Oh my god, who was that?! Collecting himself, Kokichi furrowed his eyebrows and rushed around the corner. But there was no one, in the entire hallway. Kokichi's shadow stretched out in front of him, dark and looming. But he was otherwise completely alone.

"What the hell?" he mumbled to himself.

"Is something wrong, Kokichi?"

Kokichi startled despite himself, spinning around and finding himself face-to-face with Makoto Naegi. His eyebrows were pinched with concern, and he peeked over Kokichi's shoulder to see what he was looking at.

"Nothing," Kokichi smiled, sickeningly sweet. "Nothing at all, my dear Makoto. What brings you to the hallway so early in the morning?"

"I was going to see if I could get something to eat for breakfast from the grab-and-go," Makoto threw his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the grab-and-go. "Want to come with? I know Yuki said we should move in groups of three or more, but I wasn't sure how to go about that if I was the first one to wake up."

"Oh?" Kokichi raised a teasing eyebrow, clasping his hands behind his back and leaning forward tantalizingly. "A breakfast date with Makoto? Take a boy out to dinner first!"

Makoto looked confused, putting a finger to his chin and looking up at the ceiling. "But why would I need to take you out to dinner before a breakfast date?"

Okay, so it wasn't one of Kokichi's better lines, but he was still entirely thrown off by...whoever that was. The person has seemed otherworldly, with their blue glow and white hair. A ghost? Not that Kokichi even really believed in ghosts, but if not a ghost, then...what?

"You know what? I am famished, darling," Kokichi suddenly looped his arm in Makoto's elbow. "I think I will join you. But let's find a third, hm? Not that I can't be monogamous, it's just that," Kokichi flashed a smile that almost looked more like bared teeth. "I don't want you to try and kill me."

"I-I wasn't going to do anything like that!" Makoto gasped. "But, rules are rules. Let's find some other guys to go with us."

They ended up knocking on a couple doors, before Hotaru, the track star, answered. "I didn't know anyone else would be up," he said in mild surprise. "I'm used to waking up before the sun rises to go on my morning runs, so it's just habit, I guess. Not that I can really take a run, in here," he clenched his elbow and glanced off to the side, looking uncomfortable. "But sure, I'll go to the grab-and-go with you guys. Would you guys be interested in doing a morning workout with me, as well? I can't run, but we can do some strength training, if you'd like?"

Kokichi cringed, feeling a familiar sense of disgust at the idea. Training, with a bunch of strangers? "No thank you, dear, I don't do sweat," Kokichi sneered.

"Sounds fun!" Makoto exclaimed beside him, just radiating positive energy. "I'm not the most athletic guy...but it's not like there's much else to do around here, anyway."

Hotaru chuckled. "I'll take it. C'mon, guys, let's go."

Kokichi trailed somewhat behind the two eager boys, hands tucked into his pockets. He watched with a distant curiosity as Makoto chattered to Hotaru about what kinds of exercises a track star like him would do. It wasn't a long walk, due to their cramped space. Kokichi lingered, letting Makoto and Hotaru enter the grab-and-go first.

"Huh. Weird."

Makoto's voice. Kokichi's face split into a grin, which he quickly schooled back into a neutral expression and stepped in to join them.

"What's weird?" he drawled, hands clasped innocently behind his back.

"I just..." Makoto was pinching his chin, looking over the small packages of cereal. "Could have sworn there were more than this."

"No, something's up," Hotaru agreed from the other side of the grab-and-go, picking through the fruits. "I mean, there's still food here, but it's not full. It's as if-"

"-Monokuma didn't refill the grab-and-go..." Makoto finished for him, the two boys looking at each other, eyes wide.

Kokichi's face contorted in 'surprise', eyebrows drawing in and lips parting. "Oh. That's...bad."

"We're doomed!"

The exclamation had come from Rei, the opera singer. After Hotaru's discovery, everyone had gathered in the hallway to talk about the looming problem. Monokuma had not filled the grab-and-go after yesterday. Their food source may be finite, after all.

"'Doomed' is a strong word, right?" Ryo, the ballet dancer, asked, not sounding as confident as he had been hoping.

"But I don't know if it's inaccurate," Tohru, the business woman, sighed, crossing her arms. "I know it is not an immediate problem, but it will quickly become one."

"Now, now, let's not panic," Kokichi pinched his chin. "There's always the chance Monokuma would just fill it later, when it starts getting low?"

"Awfully optimistic of you," Ryo deadpanned. Kokichi smirked at him, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm good in a crisis. Besides, I don't like to panic, it causes wrinkles."

"That sounds about right," Emiko scoffed, unimpressed with Kokichi's demeanor, and quickly brushing him off. Just as he had wanted. "Anyway, it seems like we have a problem on our hands. Yuki, what should we do?"

The crowd's attention turned to the redhead, who had been silently pondering the situation this whole time, pinching her chin in thought. "I think...we shouldn't assume that Monokuma will refill the food. I know it's a possibility, but better safe than sorry. We need to start carefully rationing out the food for all sixteen of us. We need to start limiting our intake-"

"-and what happens when we run out?" Hisoka, the online influencer, asked. Her hands were perched up high on her hips, and she looked highly skeptical. "No matter how well we ration, if Monokuma doesn't refill the food, we're going to run out. And then what?"

"He's going to make us kill each other..." Rei muttered to herself, hugging herself even tighter. Her eyes were trained on the floor, but they were wide with terror. "No matter what, he's going to make sure he has his killing game..."

"Let's not get hysterical," Emiko announced. "Yeah, it's not a great sign, and realistically we should probably be concerned. But panicking now won't help anything."

"Then, what do we do?" Makoto asked, tugging the strings on his hoodie anxiously. Even the little ball of hope seemed concerned at this turn of events.

"We'll figure it out," Ryo stated. "Together."

"Touching," Kokichi said, unimpressed. "But ultimately, useless."

"Panicking is useless, as well," Emiko shot back. Kokichi raised his hands defensively with a cocky smirk, and she only rolled her eyes.

"Guys, I know it's a temporary solution," Yuki said, pulling the attention back to herself. "But what other choices do we have?"

"We can demand that Monokuma refill the grab-and-go!" Hotaru, the runner that had discovered the food shortage with Makoto, clenched his fist in determination.

"Oh?" as if summoned, Monokuma's sing-song voice screeched the conversation to a halt. Said robotic bear bounced up from the floor, his captain's hat sitting at a jaunty angle. "You demand?"

"Y-Yes!" Hotaru suddenly seemed a lot less determined on that stance, but still glared down at the small bear.

"What is this about, Monokuma?" Emiko asked with exasperation, and probably not enough concern that would be warranted in this situation.

"You know exactly what it's about, missy!" Monokuma snickered. "It's just like you all said! I won't refill the grab-and-go! Soooo, everything in there is your only form of nutrition! And of course, you can't leave these two hallways until-"

"-someone dies," Tohru finished for him, darkly. A shiver went through the group, but Monokuma simply laughed.

"Exactly! Buuuut, if you kill someone, then more of the ship opens up to you!"

"And there will be more food?" Kimi, the tennis player, asked skeptically.

"After the first death, I promise you all will be happily well fed!" Monokuma declared. "I pinky promise! Bear's honor!"

"You don't have any pinkies..." Seiichi, the roboticist, noted under their breath.

"And we're just going to trust you?" Kokichi asked, cocking his head and looking at the robot disbelievingly. "I mean, they're not wrong. You don't have any pinkies."

"You doubt a bear's honor?" Monokuma gasped. "It would be boring to let things stay the same after the first death, of course I'm going to switch it up! But until now, all you have is claustrophobia, and the looming threat of starvation to motivate you..." Monokuma chuckled darkly. "Bye-byeeeee."

The mood now sufficiently darkened, Monokuma disappeared into the floor.

"That's it," Rei stated after a moment of silence. "We're dead."

"Don't be so defeatist," Ryo said.

"Why? Have faith one of us is gonna get killed?" Kokichi asked him, and the ballet dancer reeled away in disgust.

"N-No, I didn't say that!"

"Well, it seems that is the only solution Monokuma will accept," Tohru said.

"No one is killing anybody!" Ryo commanded, hands on his hips.

"Do any of us have the capability to kill anyone?" Kimi asked. "We're all just regular kids, right?"

"That's right," Ryo pointed at the tennis player. "Which means that even if one of us tried to, no one has the skillset to pull it off and get away with it. So! No killing! Got it?"

An unenthusiastic chorus of got its rippled through the group in response. Ryo smiled.

"Good. Now, who wants to work on an organized system to divide the food?"

"I can help," Tohru spoke up, undoubtedly quite organized as a businesswoman. "I haven't got any way to make a spreadsheet, however I believe there is a pad of paper in the grab-and-go, by the register."

"Why?" Kokichi scoffed. "For our invisible cashier?"

"Maybe Monokuma really cares about the immersion," Emiko grumbled, looking annoyed with the robot.

"I can help, as well," Yuki spoke up. "I'm not great at making spreadsheets, but...well, I want to help."

"Plus, rationing the food was your idea," Kokichi pointed out cheekily, earning a hesitant look from Yuki herself. Emiko nudged him with her elbow, muttering something like 'little twerp' under her breath.

"I can help, as well," Seiichi spoke up.

"Great," Ryo clapped his hands together. "Yuki, Tohru, and Seiichi will organize the food. No one eat anything until they've finished, alright?"

The crowd of teenagers, all of whom haven't eaten since yesterday, groaned at that.

"Buck up," Emiko snapped. "No food until the rationing gets situated out. You all can survive for one morning."

"We need to distract ourselves! How about a work out?" Ryo offered.

"As much as I would still like to do my morning work out, is it the best idea to burn calories when our intake will be so limited?" Hotaru asked. The ballet dancer glanced at the track star in surprise.

"You're right, but we can't just let ourselves skip our regular routines! Guys like us rely on our routines!"

"I can't say I'm all that eager to work out," Rei admitted. "But, distracting ourselves would be a good idea."

"Free time, then!" Ryo said. "We'll all hang out and get to know each other better while we wait for the food to be ready."

"You're eager to make new friends," Kokichi noted under his breath. "Trying to get to know us better to find out our weaknesses?"

"What?! No, dude!" Ryo reeled away from him. "Stop saying shit like that."

"Knock it off, Kokichi," Emiko swatted at the back of his head. "Alright, everyone, standing here complaining isn't going to help anything. Let's just relax and wait."

The crowd seemed to disperse itself after that. Yuki watched as one by one people peeled off, though it seemed everyone was adhereing to her proposed rule of groups of three or more. Strangers muttering to each other, talking about their situation or about anything else. Hisoka, Kimi, and Aaliyah wandering off in a clump. Ryo wrapping his arm around Hotaru's shoulders and chattering about work out routines, Makoto listening on eagerly. Seiichi and Tohru discussing possibilities on how to best ration the food for the group of sixteen, and it seemed Rei was pretty invested as well. Yuki felt a nudge on her shoulder, and looked up to see Emiko giving her an encouraging pat, smiling down. Yuki did her best to smile convincingly up at her friend. Seemingly convinced, Emiko released Yuki's shoulder and looped her arm through Rei's elbow, good-naturedly pulling her towards a larger group of people. At this point, Tohru and Seiichi were almost down the hallway, headed towards the grab-and-go. Yuki moved to follow them.

"Hey."

She froze, surprised at the voice that stopped her. Specifically, who the voice belonged to. She turned around to see the little fashion designer himself, leaning against the wall and fiddling with the measuring tape around his neck. His face, usually pulled back into a teasing smirk or making an obnoxious expression, settled into something slightly more serious.

"Oma?"

"What do you make of this?" he nodded vaguely down the hall. "This whole thing. Getting kidnapped, stuck on a boat, food limit, all of it."

Yuki fully turned around to face Kokichi, eyebrows drawn in with concern and confusion. "Sorry, but...why are you asking me?"

Surprising her, Kokichi's lips twitched upwards, before quickly schooling himself and looking off to the side. "Are you not the resident murder expert?"

Yuki's face fell. "Please don't call me that."

"I don't know why you're so against the title. It's super helpful, in a situation like this," Kokichi pointed out, pushing himself off the wall to approach her, just a bit. "And you've become a de facto leader, of sorts, so part of you must accept it. Every plan we've agreed on has been yours."

"Oma, are you...actually scared?"

Kokichi scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. "Me? Scared? Of a couple of teenagers who look like they couldn't hurt a fly? Not quite. I just..." his defensive energy petered out, and he wilted slightly. "Obviously, I'm not a fan of the whole 'being kidnapped and forced into a killing game' situation. So I just thought I would see if the murder expert thought the situation looked just as hopeless as...well, everyone else thinks."

Kokichi may just be trying to get me to talk to figure out how I'm planning to fix this problem... Yuki mused to herself. Unfortunately for him, I have no idea how to fix this. I am only delaying the inevitable. But, maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he's not fishing for information, maybe he is worried, and trying to hide it under a guise of a cocky, confident fashion icon. He's hard to read...but he doesn't seem like that bad a guy.

"I wish I could say 'have hope'," Yuki admitted. Kokichi blinked, clearly surprised by her relatively bleak answer. "If you wanted to hear some speech about having faith and trust, you should have gone to Ryo, or Makoto."

"But I didn't," Kokichi stated, not daring to give away any hint to how he felt about that response. "I came to you."

"I'm not the only person here. There are fourteen people trapped here with us."

"I know, but I want to know if you think any of them are capable of murder."

He must be trying to do a similar thing to me! Yuki realized (quite incorrectly, unbeknownst to her). He's doing whatever he can to avoid a murder taking place! And he's trying to see if I find anyone suspicious.

"I'm afraid you're not going to like my answer," Yuki said. "But I think everyone is equally capable and not capable of murder. I don't think anyone here inherently wants to kill, nor has the means to do so and get away with it," she explained. "However, I also believe Monokuma will force us into desperation. And once we're desperate enough, I believe any single one of us can cave to the temptation. That's why I'm trying so hard to avoid that situation. Because while none of us are outwardly intent on killing...Monokuma's made it so that, soon, all of us will be desperate enough to do so."

Kokichi frowned.

"I'm sorry," Yuki added. "I know that probably wasn't the answer you wanted to hear."

"It isn't," Kokichi admitted. "Because I was thinking the exact same thing."

Maybe we're not so different, after all, Yuki thought. It's weird seeing the normally so energetic Kokichi...mellow like this.

As if on cue, Kokichi's face suddenly split into a blinding smile. "Ah, well, c'est la vie! Or rather, c'est la mort, eh? Thanks for the chat," with a wiggle of his fingers, Kokichi bounded down the hall, skipping carelessly until he turned the corner to the elevator to the boy's hall. Yuki blinked, staring where he had once been.

Well, that was strange. But I feel like Kokichi and I got a little closer, today.

Tohru and Seiichi both proved to be quite mindful, organized people. However, due to the urgency of the situation, the rationing plan did end up involving several papers scattered across the grab-and-go. It lead up to Seiichi sitting cross-legged on top of the counter, scribbling on a notepad as Tohru and Yuki stood surrounded by piles of counted food inventory, organized by type. Tohru added another ramen packet to the stack by her, while Yuki crouched down and stacked Panta cans. Around the counter and food piles were crumpled and tossed pieces of paper, failed plans and brainstorming notes.

"If we change the ideal two thousand calories per day to fifteen hundred, we can extend our time limit," Seiichi noted, looking up from their notepad to their two companions.

"How much?" Yuki asked, running an exhausted hand through her hair, mussed from work.

Seiichi leaned over, typing into the calculator that sat beside them on the counter. "Five hundred calories saved per sixteen students...that's eight thousand calories total...four days?"

"That's not a lot," Yuki admitted, putting a hand over her mouth in thought.

"But essential," Tohru pointed out. "However many days we can preserve, hell, however many hours, is time we can use to escape this place."

"Or prolong the inevitable," Seiichi mumbled dejectedly, letting their face fall exhaustedly into their hands.

"We can't go any lower," Yuki said, sitting on the ground and leaning back on her hands, surrounded by piles of Panta, apples, and potato chips (organized by flavor). "We already have people of different sizes who will suffer differently, not to mention some top-tier athletes."

"This isn't gonna go well..." Seiichi groaned into their hands.

"Fifteen hundred calories per person," Tohru, ever the realist, did not deter from the plan, rising and taking the notepad to look over the notes. "Four extra days. That puts us at..." her finger trailed along the page, lips wordlessly mouthing something. Her finger stopped. "Twenty five days."

"Twenty five days," Yuki breathed, something like despair seeping into her tone. Seiichi lifted their face from their hands, and locked eyes with Yuki, exchanging similarly hopeless looks. Noticing this, Tohru determinedly slapped the notepad down on the counter, making her companions jump a little.

"Then we better get dividing," Tohru said. "I know we didn't want to know food allergies, but due to this new restriction I will need to know if we have any restrictions."

"We can get that information, and keep it pretty secret, to try and stick to Yuki's original plan," Seiichi agreed.

"We have eight groups we're working with," Tohru said, motioning to the several piles of food and drink. "We have fruits, water bottles, soda bottles, ramen packets, chip bags, gummy candies, chocolate candies, and mints."

"The most nutrition will come from the ramen, fruits, and unfortunately, the chocolate," Seiichi mused.

"Mints will last a long time, keep flavor in people's mouths, trick them into being less hungry," Yuki added.

"Chips and gummy candies will only make people more hungry, but still, it's calories," Tohru said, picking up a pack of candy to half-heartedly study it.

"Even amounts for each person," Seiichi nodded, looking at the other two with a somewhat worried expression, thinly masked with confidence. "Let's get started."

Twenty Four Days Left Until Total Food Loss

Hotaru knew he couldn't exercise the way he wanted to, for two reasons. One: there just wasn't enough space. Two: he couldn't afford to lose calories he couldn't gain back. He knew that some of the other athletes, like Ryo and Kimi, felt the same way. However, it felt especially difficult for a runner. He was used to a large intake in calories a day. He knew he ate like a racehorse, and it was going to be brutal adjusting to this new, scheduled diet. He wanted to run so bad, it was like an itch in his bones. An impulse that was near impossible to fight. But his stomach was also already rolling with hunger, so he knew it was a bad idea.

"Distract me, man," he mumbled to Ryo, though the company was also shared with Keiji, the silent and stoic stunt man, and Aaliyah, the American...bird scientist? He thinks? He wasn't sure.

"We'll eat as soon as they're done rationing," Aaliyah said, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest.

"We can learn more about each other?" Ryo tried. "If we are going to get through this together, then it's important for us to bond. Get to know each other."

Keiji softly scoffed under his breath, but Aaliyah actually looked somewhat interested in the idea. "I guess if I am going to starve to death on a boat, I'd like to know who I'm doing it with."

"Darker than I was hoping for, but right energy!" Ryo grinned.

"What, we're trapped here, and you want to play twenty questions?" Hotaru asked. "I don't even know if this guy talks!" he exclaimed, motioning to Keiji. The stuntman gave him a sideways glance, and an expression that could almost be described as amusement.

"You got a better idea?" Ryo quirked an eyebrow.

"Alright, alright, I'll start. Icebreakers, we used to do them all the time at school," Aaliyah said, sitting down on the floor and crossing her legs, a silent invite for the boys to join her. "Favorite colors?"

"What are we, five?" Hotaru mumbled.

"Blue," Ryo nodded sagely.

"I like a good, deep red," Aaliyah added.

Seeing as he wasn't going to win, Hotaru gave in. "Green, I guess."

Three heads turned to Keiji. The stoic man gave them all a once-over, looking mysterious and pensive as he did so. They waited with bated breath, unsure if he would even answer. Then-

"Purple."

The group stiffened in surprise. Keiji's voice was as gruff as one would expect from him, tough and monosyllabic. Maybe dusty from lack of use, or maybe that's just how he sounded. Regardless-

"Purple wouldn't have been my first guess," Hotaru mumbled.

"My turn," Ryo sat up straight. "What's your favorite activity to do after school?"

"We can't even remember where we went to school, we're supposed to remember what we did after?" Hotaru asked.

"I mean, my answer is pretty obvious, but I love to dance. Ballet, specifically," Ryo answered his own question.

"Well, I don't want to pick science," Aaliyah mused. "I guess I like to read fiction."

"Running feels like the obvious choice," Hotaru gripped at his legs, as if trying to get the itching in his bones to settle. "But it's not just exercise to me. I really do love it."

"You don't have to justify it to us, Hotaru," Ryo smiled, and Hotaru couldn't help but smile back.

"But if I had to pick something else," Hotaru thought to himself for a moment. "I guess, video games?"

"Cooking," Keiji added gruffly, putting an end to that particular question with yet another somewhat surprising answer.

"Me?" Hotaru said as everyone glanced at him. "Okay, um...I guess do you find yourself more of a morning or night person?"

"Morning," Keiji was the first to respond this time.

"Night, for sure," Aaliyah said.

"Night for me too," Ryo added.

"Morning," Hotaru raised his hand.

Thus, it looped around to Keiji's turn to ask a question. They waited as he thought to himself, trying to come up with something not too deep, but not too shallow, either. "Who is your favorite person in your life?"

"Ooh, interesting one," Ryo cupped his chin. "I don't know, I love so many people! I guess...my parents. Final answer."

"My sister, back in America," Aaliyah answered. "All we got is each other, she is the most important thing to me."

"My mom raised me and my brothers all by herself," Hotaru explained. "She's my hero."

"My girlfriend," Keiji said with no further explanation. They fizzled out into silence for a moment, quietly missing the people in their life. Do they even know what happened to them? If it's true what she says, then Aaliyah's sister would be left all alone in America. Keiji's girlfriend must be worried sick. Ryo's parents must be tearing the world apart, trying to find their son. And Hotaru's mom...would he ever see her again?

Ryo perked up, noticing the dampening mood. "Okay, everyone's favorite music genre, go!"

Twenty Three Days Left

Someone broke the radio.

Kokichi stood in the bridge of the ship, gaping at the busted radio. It was dented from several directions, and as Kokichi twisted the dial, only static emerged. From outside the windows, the night sky surrounded him, draping the bridge in a shadowy darkness.

"Who the hell...?" Kokichi mumbled, messing with the dials a bit more, trying to get anything besides static. The only person who had access to the bridge was him. And he certainly didn't do this.

He didn't...remember doing this.

He winced, a stinging, itching sensation shooting up from his hidden tattoo. He grit his teeth, wrapping one hand tight around his forearm in an attempt to stifle the pain. In his distraction, he almost missed the slight shift in pattern in the static. A repetitive, monotonous sound that had become white noise morphed, as if trying to form words itself.

"K...Kokichi? Kokichi? Can you ...me?"

Kokichi blinked at the radio.

"Kok-... Kaito is..."

A name.

Kaito?

Kaito?

"Who the fuck is-?"

The radio sparked, and Kokichi reeled away from it, gasping. Whatever voice had been coming out of it crackled and went silent. Panting, Kokichi stared at the radio for a moment before lunging back for it, fiddling with the controls.

"Hello? Hello?" he tried, to no avail. The fried, useless radio was back to its fried, useless self.

But if it was useless, how did he hear someone talking through it?

Kokichi snapped awake, finding himself lying in his bed, his cabin immersed in darkness. It was the middle of the night, and whatever he had just been dreaming about was already rapidly fading away. He sat up in bed, tugging on his blanket and looking around blearily. When he tried to remember his dream, the content only floated further and further away.

Oh, well. Just a dream, there was no point in mourning its loss.

Twenty Two Days Left

"You really are amazing, Yuki," Rei, the opera singer, pointed out through a mouthful of mediocre ramen. She, along with Emiko and Yuki, sat in the grab-and-go, and somehow the conversation had steered to Yuki's career as a writer. "You've published five books at your age?"

Yuki ducked her head, hiding her blush behind her ramen. "And a couple short stories."

"I told you she was awesome," Emiko said, perched on the grab-and-go counter like it was a throne, one leg crossed elegantly over the other.

"When we get out of here, I want to read your work," Rei said, pointing her chopsticks at Yuki.

"Hey, you said 'when'!" Emiko cheered. "Not 'if'!"

"When, if, same thing," Rei shrugged sheepishly.

"No, they're not, one is way more optimistic than the other," Emiko said. "You were all 'we're doomed!' a couple days ago."

"Well, it's not like we've gotten any closer to finding a way to escape," Rei pointed out. "I just...I don't know. Doesn't hurt to be a little hopeful, right?"

"Right," Emiko smirked, glancing over and sending a wink in Yuki's direction. The authoress smiled bashfully.

"When we leave," Yuki spoke up. "I would like to go to one of your shows, Rei."

"Oh, me too!" Emiko said. "And maybe I can bring you guys on set sometime. We'll all have a Take Your Friend To Work Day!"

"Don't you think it's kind of strange, we all have careers like this?" Rei asked, tugging at another chopstick-full of noodles. "I mean, we're just teenagers, but we all have outside jobs. Ryo's a ballet dancer, Keiji's a stuntman, I mean, doesn't Tohru run her own business or something?!"

"And I've heard about the millions of followers Hisoka has on social media," Emiko added. "And Kimi's success in the tennis world. I guess it is pretty strange, how all of the people on this boat ended up being successful teenagers."

"It can't be a coincidence," Yuki shook her head. "There is no such thing."

"No such thing?" Rei questioned.

"I mean, there is a reason who are noticing a pattern. Because the person who kidnapped us followed that pattern. They want something specifically from teenagers with fruitful careers. It's also not a coincidence that none of us remember what schools we go to," she added. "My theory is that we all went to the same school."

"No way!" Rei gasped.

"I guess that could make sense," Emiko nodded along to Yuki's theory. "I mean, there are already enough similarities between us all. Who's to say we don't go to the same school?"

"Then why erase our memories on specifically that?" Rei asked. "Why let us keep memories of our careers, our families, our lives...but not our school?"

"I think that's a question we're going to have to try and answer if we ever want to figure out why we're here," Yuki sighed.

Twenty One Days Left

Unsure as to why, Kokichi felt an urge to go check the radio on the bridge. Even as he went over to check, he questioned his motives. It's not as if any use would come from the radio, he was not trying to reach out to any ships. He hadn't used the radio, at all. However, something was urging him forward.

It was midday, and the sun sent a glare in through the windows of the bridge, leaving it uncomfortably warm. Kokichi frowned, irritation peaking as his own hunger and exhaustion slowed him down. The side effects of his plan were catching up to him, and it was quite an unpleasant feeling.

People should be getting desperate soon. Hopefully there will be a death, and Kokichi could finally eat some real damn food.

Shielding his eyes from the blinding sun, Kokichi approached the radio. It sat as it always had, normal and untouched, in the console. Not a scratch on it, though he wasn't sure why he expected there to be. To be sure, Kokichi reached out and fiddled with the dial.

"Hello?" he asked into the radio. "Anyone copy?"

Radio silence. As expected. Though there was a small green light on the monitor that did show the radio was on, and ready to recieve should anyone try to transmit a message. With a hum and a shrug, Kokichi flipped the dial and turned, leaving the bridge to go and try to entertain himself today.

Twenty Days Left

The time limit until they ran out of food was hovering above the group, and Makoto could tell. It wasn't uncomfortably close yet, but with now less than three weeks until they were totally out of food, and now having gone several days on a very limited calorie intake, tensions were high and emotions were strained. Makoto wished he could help, watching as people would lose patience and snap far quicker than they used to, or people becoming more lethargic, some even sleeping for over ten hours.

"I wish there was something we could do to cheer them up," he mused aloud to his companions, Tatsuo, the drummer, Hotaru, and Tohru. "Everyone is so on edge."

"Can you blame them?" the drummer grumbled, fiddling with something in his hands. Upon closer inspection, it looked like a makeshift ball created by some paper and tape from the grab-and-go. Tatsuo tossed it lazily into the air, letting it fall back into his hands. "We're starving and stir-crazy."

"It's been a week since anyone's had fresh air," Hotaru pointed out. "Even if we still have twenty days left until we run out of food, people may go crazy long before then. We weren't made to stay inside such a cramped space for this long. Humans need space, air!"

"No one is disagreeing with you, Hotaru," Tohru sighed, using a pen to scribble something onto her notepad, the one she had taken from the grab-and-go. "But I'm afraid this reaction is exactly what Monokuma wants from us."

"Yeah, and we can't give in to what he wants!" Makoto exclaimed, clenching his fists in determination. "We need to have Hope that the strength of our bond will keep us going! We won't let Monokuma have his game!"

"Flowery words of encouragement do not supply the necessary calories for survival," Tohru (almost) snapped, (her patience growing thin from hunger and irritation at the optimistic boy). "Though I do appreciate the sentiment, I'm afraid 'strength of bond' will only get us so far."

Makoto wilted at that.

"That's why I am trying to come up with bargaining chips," Tohru looked up from her work, motioning to her notepad. "If we can convince Monokuma of giving us slightly more space, or fresh air, or even a bit more food, we can extend our deadline. Survive a bit longer."

"Survive a bit longer, until when?" Tatsuo asked. "We can't just keep pushing a deadline until our inevitable demise!"

"I am trying, Uno," Tohru (almost) growled, her eyebrow (nearly) twitching. "I have been working nonstop to try and figure out a plan. I've tried to think of ways to appeal to Monokuma, to try and hack or break into the elevators, to try and grow our own food. I've considered everything. I even considered offering myself."

Makoto gasped, immediately understanding the implications of her words. "You don't mean-?!"

"You needn't worry," Tohru said while writing something down, perhaps just to seem busy and to not have to look at their faces. "Suicide was quickly ruled out. Monokuma explicitly said that a murder should occur, so that a trial may take place. A suicide would make that useless, and wouldn't get you guys space or food at all."

"Mukai, you can't!" Makoto exclaimed. "Your life...i-it's precious, you can't just-"

"I just said it was ruled out," Tohru (definitely) snapped, looking up at Makoto with a glare that quickly shut him up. "Offering myself up would do you all no good."

"Mukai...Tohru," Hotaru switched to Tohru's first name, catching her attention quickly. "That's not what he means." Hesitantly, he reached out, putting his hand over Tohru's gently. She blinked at him as he slowly lowered her hand away from her notepad, maintaining such deep eye contact that she wouldn't dare look away. "You shouldn't just value your life because it 'wouldn't benefit us' if you killed yourself. You should value your life because you are alive," his hand tightened on hers, slightly. "You're alive, and you deserve to stay that way, and escape with all of us."

Tohru blinked at him. For once, the unwavering business woman looked stunned, lips slightly parted. Her eyes flickered, searching Hotaru's face for...something. After a moment, Tohru snapped out of her trance, pulling her hand out of Hotaru's grasp, though not unkindly. She ducked her head, readjusting her seat so she was looking back down at the notepad. She cleared her throat, uncharacteristically speechless.

"...Thank you."

Hotaru smiled.

Nineteen Days Left

Bubbles.

Kokichi blinked up at the ceiling from his spot on the bed. When he woke up this morning, he found bubbles floating around his head. All over his cabin, in fact. Bubbles, floating motionlessly around him. The bubbles were so still, Kokichi wasn't even sure if what he was seeing was real.

Slowly, mechanically, Kokichi sat up in bed, keeping his face expressionless. Cautiously, he reached out a single finger towards a bubble. When it popped around his finger, he flinched, for some reason. He lowered his hand and looked around, trying and failing to find the source of the strange, still bubbles.

"Okay, what the fuck," Kokichi stated after a while, not even making it a question. The bubbles floated around the room, plentiful and sparking in the morning sun seeping through the porthole, and then-

P̷̰̗̞̙͖͎̭̿̎̔͝͝͠Ơ̶̘̘̤̙͕̂̓͛̂͘͠P̴̟̰͒͛̆͐̒͑

They all popped in unison, making Kokichi flinch again. He looked around the room, wide-eyed. Not a single bubble was left.

"What the fuck," Kokichi stated again, still not a question. He stayed still for another moment, and once he was sure the bubbles weren't going to return, he flung his legs over the side of his bed and finally stood up. His toe bumped something on the floor, and he looked down.

By his foot, rolling a bit from the tap of his toe, was a metallic shot-put ball. Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he bent down, reaching to pick up the shot-put ball-

"Gooooood morning!" Monokuma appeared into the room with a cheer, startling Kokichi. He quickly straightened, realizing that he had not, in fact, stood up. He was still in bed, legs tucked under the covers. Had...had he been asleep, just now? Did Monokuma wake him up?

"What are you doing here?!"

"Just checking on my favorite mastermind," Monokuma put a paw to his mouth and cocked his head. "What were you looking at?"

"I was-" Kokichi pointed back to the floor, looking down to find-

Nothing.

There was nothing there.

Wasn't he about to pick something up?

"Uh," was all Kokichi could say.

"Silly boy, you must still be half asleep!" Monokuma cackled gleefully. "Well, you better wake up, Mister Mastermind! I've got something to show ya!" With that, Monokuma bounced back down into the floor, leaving Kokichi utterly alone. He peered around his cabin in confusion.

Something strange was going on here. But there was no time. Clearly, Monokuma had something up his sleeve. He better get up and figure out what was going on.

Eighteen Days Left

Chapter Text

"Um...excuse me. Are you Mx. Chihiro Akage?"

Chihiro startled out of their work, watching season fifty four. Nothing particularly important was happening just yet, just making sure the ship is running as necessary. They turned around, looking over their shoulder to find a very young person, possibly even a teenager, peering into their cubicle.

"Yeah, that's me," Chihiro said, spinning their chair around to fully face this person. She stepped further into the cubicle, revealing a cute girl dressed in very professional attire, even more so than the usual Danganronpa employee. Her blonde hair was tied up into a ponytail, strands of hair falling messily into her blue eyes. A turquoise, plastic Danganronpa badge was pinned to the chest pocket of her blazer. Red badge was for senior programmers. Black badge was for entertainment crew. White was for medics. Turquoise was...

"You're an intern?" Chihiro asked.

"Y-Yes!" the intern snapped to attention. "My name is Keiko!"

"Nice to meet you, Keiko," Chihiro nodded as the intern bowed respectively. "Was there a reason you were looking for me."

"I was...told I was supposed to shadow you?" she cocked her head curiously. "By Director Sho?"

Chihiro tried very hard not to let the irritation show, merely sucking in an extremely deep breath through the nose, holding it for a moment, and then slowly releasing it. Their eyes never left Keiko's. No one told me I was gonna be shadowed by a kid. This will make things harder.

"You're going to be a coder?" Chihiro asked, instead of saying all those thoughts aloud.

"Yes!" Keiko exclaimed. "It's my dream to code a killing game some day!"

"Oh, is it?" Chihiro mumbled, unimpressed.

"I know that you've been with the company for over twenty years," Keiko added, a ripple of discomfort running up Chihiro's spine. "I know having an intern shadow you will probably be annoying, you have way more important things to do."

"Most of the important things happen before the premiere," Chihiro sighed, trying to school their expression. Clearly, Keiko already expected Chihiro to be annoyed at her presence, and that's unfair. Chihiro doesn't like Danganronpa fans, but Keiko was just a kid. "Prepping a killing game is a lot more work than keeping it going. Now that it's started, my job is mostly making sure the virtual reality simulator doesn't contradict itself, or glitch."

"Has there been any glitches?" Keiko asked. The question itself was casual, just interest from an intern. But still, Chihiro shivered. Their very own programming was causing a glitch, yes. Backdoor.v3 is a very well-hidden code that was causing a glitch in Kokichi's avatar, one that Kiibo had been trying to slip through ever since Chihiro helped restore his coding.

"There are always a couple," Chihiro opted for responding. "Tiny ones. Inconsistencies in the set loading, or sometimes Monokuma himself has some issues. Small things, nothing that the audience would notice. There used to be more, back in the day, but Danganronpa has greatly improved the quality of the simulation over the last fifty seasons. There is always a chance that a bigger glitch shows up, something that could really effect the outcome of the killing game, but that's why we're here," Chihiro motioned to themself, and then to Keiko. "We make sure that doesn't happen."

Keiko nodded enthusiastically. "So, what are you doing right now?"

Chihiro glanced over at their computer, where the group of characters were gathering in the hall for some big announcement, or change. Monokuma was being purposefully vague about it. Of course, Chihiro already knew what was coming. Soon, someone was bound to get killed.

Chihiro sighed. It was a shame, but at least that person would wake up from the simulation. Chihiro feels worse for those who have to spend a longer time in there.

"Just watching for now. Go see if you can find a chair, this job is a lot of waiting."

A few days of the killing game had passed before Shuichi and Kaede returned to Kaito's house. And this time, they brought Korekiyo with them.

"Good to see you, man," Kaito said as Korekiyo was wheeled through their giant door. He had to admit, he was still a little thrown off by the guy. He still gave an uncomfortable aura, but Kaito wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, and was trying to treat him like any other guy.

"That's kind of you to say, Kaito," Korekiyo drawled in a voice that sent a frightened shiver down Kaito's spine.

Knock it off! he thought to himself. Korekiyo isn't the guy from the game! He got the shortest end of the stick out of all of us.

The bandages from the hospital had been slowly but surely removed. Unfortunately, that did mean that there were very visible burns peeking out from under Korekiyo's turtleneck, crawling up his neck and wrists. Wrinkled, red skin that would never return to normal. Surprisingly, Korekiyo's face had remained relatively unscathed- perhaps due to the mask in-game. There were a couple red scars underneath his left eye, but they were barely noticeable in comparison to the burns on the rest of his body.

"How has that chat been going, Kaito?" Shuichi quickly spoke up, perhaps noticing Kaito's discomfort. "The anti-Danganronpa one."

"Oh!" Kaito perked up. "Miu's been chatting nonstop with this 'admin' guy. After staying in the chat for a week, they really seem legit. There are people out there who hate Danganronpa."

Shuichi's smile softened fondly. "Of course there is. No matter what Team Danganronpa was telling us, I knew there had to be good people in the world."

"People like Mx. Chihiro," Kaito said as they all wandered into the living room, where Rantaro was unloading plastic bags of takeout food for all of them. "They've been working with Miu and Kiibo to try and wake up Kokichi."

Korekiyo seemed to perk up at that, surprisingly enough. "How is he?" he asked, his quiet voice almost betraying his eagerness. His concern. Kaito glanced down at Korekiyo. Did Kokichi coming to visit the guy leave that lasting of an impression?

"As good as he can be," Kaito shrugged, flopping down onto their huge couch. "He seems to have these weird flashes, where he almost breaks character."

"That has to be Kiibo and Mx Chihiro's doing," Shuichi grinned proudly.

"But they never last longer than a second," Kaito explained. "But other than that, he's doing as well as everyone else. He's a pretty unassuming guy, this time around. A lot less antagonistic. They have a food limit for their first motive, so he's as hungry, lethargic, and cranky as everyone else."

"Is he not cast as this season's mastermind?" Korekiyo asked, having been fully debriefed by Shuichi and Kaede. "Does he not get special perks? Extra food? Treatment from Monokuma? Surely Tsumugi had-"

"Kokichi asked him not to," Kaito said, cutting off whatever train of thought made Korekiyo bring up her.

"How strange," Korekiyo looked down at the floor. "That is very concerning."

"We're keeping an eye on him," Rantaro dipped into the conversation with his ever-present calming smile. "He's got all of us to back him up, remember? And Mx. Chihiro."

"And these anti-Danganronpa nerds!" Miu exclaimed hoarsely, making as dramatic of an entrance as ever, swooping in with her pink robe fluttering behind her.

"Miu, your voice..." Rantaro sighed, knowing it was futile.

"You know, I don't really understand the appeal of this show, anyway," Kaito scoffed. "Even if we were sick bastards who liked the killing, most of this show is wandering around and talking!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "It's been days and all we've done is watch people slowly starve, and make small talk in the same two hallways!"

"People are getting attached to the characters," Rantaro shrugged. "Not saying it's a good thing, but I can see why. It's like...slice of life, until it's broken with...despair," he sneered around the word.

"But, if the pattern from our season continues into this one, the other shoe should drop soon," Shuichi pointed out. "Monokuma or Kokichi will get bored, and do something new to change the situation. The chances of someone getting killed will be higher than ever."

"All we can do is hope that it is not too gruesome," Rantaro sighed. "Then they will have less real-world effects once they wake up from the simulation."

"Miu, I heard you got Kiibo up and running again?" Korekiyo asked.

"Sure did!" Miu scoffed proudly. "He's running in Kokichi's coding right now, trying to break Danganronpa's code! That must have been the twink's plan. That's why he had me kidnap Kiibo's drive from the hospital."

"Seven steps ahead, that guy," Kaito muttered under his breath.

"I see, how clever. He is still gambling with his very being, but his chances of coming out as our Kokichi are higher with Kiibo on our side. I wish you luck," Korekiyo nodded.

"I don't need luck, I got Kiibo!" Miu smirked.

"Kokichi spotting," Rantaro said, leaning forward and snatching up the remote to unmute the tv. All conversation halted to watch as a sleepy, slow-moving Kokichi emerged from his cabin. Heavy bags tugged at his eyes, making his face look gaunt and almost sickly. Rantaro and Miu both sucked in sympathetic breaths through their teeth.

"He looks terrible!" Kaito exclaimed, stumbling towards the television in concern. He was stopped only by the couch being directly in his path, electing to instead grab the edge with both hands and lean forward.

"They all look horrible," Rantaro admitted, raising a hand up to his cheek with a grimace. "They're starving."

"It doesn't help that whatever Kiibo's doing is effecting Kokichi's sleep," Shuichi added.

"Idiot," Miu hissed at the tiny Kokichi on the screen. "You can just ask Monokuma for food. Why don't you?"

"He's a stubborn prick," Kaito scoffed, releasing the couch to cross his arms over his chest.

"At least that part hasn't changed," Rantaro chuckled. The group watched with bated breath as Kokichi slowly trudged down the hallway. The cameras showed that the rest of the teens had gathered in a clump, though the angle was perfectly crafted to grow tension. Kaito felt himself cringing inwardly. Kokichi was getting closer and closer to something. What was everyone looking at? Had something finally gone wrong?

"Okay, what the fuck is this?!"

Kokichi entered just as Hotaru, the runner, was exclaiming the rather crass statement. Curious as to what exactly had the crowd congregating in the hallway, Kokichi nudged and elbowed his way to the front of the group.

"Oh."

A pile of weapons was laid half-hazardly in the hallway. There didn't seem to be any guns, but there was no shortage of knives, mallets, axes, vials of what was presumably poisons, and more.

"Monokuma must have put these here," Seiichi, the roboticist, surmised.

"What, were we taking too long to kill each other?" Hotaru spat, glaring down at the weapons like they had personally offended him. "Had to hand us a murder weapon on a silver platter?"

"Ooh, dibs on the big scary hammer!" Kokichi cheered, lunging for the mallet. Predictably, Emiko snagged him by the back of his shirt, yanking him away before he could get too close.

"Nice try, twerp," she grumbled.

"Awww, I wasn't gonna hurt anyone with it," Kokichi blinked up innocently at her. "Besides, just picking up a weapon and killing someone would be sooo boring. Did Monokuma want to make the killing game less entertaining? Because I think he succeeded."

Yuki's eyes narrowed at Kokichi. While Emiko rolled her eyes at his usual annoying commentary, Yuki seemed to be picking it apart. Like Kokichi really was unhappy about the weapons being there, and not excited, like he's pretending to be. It was just a theory, but was Kokichi trying to piss off Monokuma by casually talking smack about him? Was Kokichi...trying to protect the group, by acting unimpressed by the new weapons?

Or, he could just be messing around. Kokichi was getting harder and harder to read, but there was something in the back of Yuki's mind that made her refuse to think he was a bad person. He was never even antagonistic, just...sassy. Loud. Maybe a bit lazy, when it came to teamwork.

"Let him go, Emiko," Yuki sighed. "He's not gonna do anything."

Kokichi pouted as Emiko suddenly let go of his shirt, sending him stumbling forward. "You're no fun, Yuki."

"Yeah, yeah, and you're full of shit," Ryo rolled his eyes. "Well, obviously we can't leave these lying around. We got to toss them out the porthole."

"Some of these aren't going to fit," Tohru knelt beside the pile, seemingly much more trustworthy around weapons than Kokichi. She sifted through the pile with one hand, picking up the occasional larger weapon. "I don't know how we would get all of them through," she picked up a ċ̶̢̦̟̇͒̑ŗ̵̳͑͆̾̇̒o̵̡̱͔͙͆͑̊͆̓̆s̶̠̍̀̀͂͋ş̴̗͗b̶̧̛̤͚͉̈́̎͒̅o̷͙̔w̸̟̿́̅ and held it up to study it.

Kokichi flinched suddenly at the sight of the crossbow. It wasn't even pointed at him, but the sight still sent him stumbling backward into Emiko, flinching so violently that it was impossible to hide. Tohru glanced at him, while Emiko looked down on him with confusion. He quickly cleared his throat, straightening back up.

"Seasickness. Sorry, dear," he patted Emiko's elbow, hoping to annoy her enough that she would ignore the strange reaction. For some reason, the sight of the crossbow made his muscles tense up, a feeling of discomfort rippling up his spine and down his...arm, strangely enough. He felt like there was something warm- no, hot, like lava- coursing down his spine and into his legs and-

"Kokichi? Are you okay?" Yuki asked, snapping him out of whatever stupor he had been in the middle of spiraling into.

"Totally! Tohru's just waving that thing around a little fearlessly," he motioned over to the business woman. "Thought she might accidentally shoot one of us. Namely, me."

"My apologies," Tohru was quick to set the crossbow back down, on top of the pile. "I didn't mean to make anyone uncomfortable. However, I am afraid we have no way to dispose of these weapons. They won't all fit in the porthole."

"So, we just leave them sitting there?" Seiichi asked, wringing their hands together. "That isn't safe, what if someone starts to get desperate?"

"We can't just do nothing!" Hotaru snapped impatiently.

"Yuki," Emiko, once again, turned to the 'murder expert' and de facto, albeit hesitant, leader. "What do we do?"

Yuki blinked. She looked at Emiko, waiting eagerly for a response. She looked at Tohru, still rifling through the pile of weapons with a look of disgust and disappointment. She looked at Kokichi, who was trying to hide the fact that he was still eyeballing the crossbow with discomfort. She looked at Hotaru, who looked ready to punch something or someone. She looked at the whole group, who were looking at her for an answer.

"We should...set up shifts. Guarding the weapons," she motioned to the pile. "We can move them to the grab and go, so they're not in the middle of the hallway. If we have a guard at all times, except for the curfew when Monokuma makes us go back to our cabins, then we should be okay."

"And what if the guard takes a weapon and uses it?" Kokichi asked, crossing his arms skeptically.

"Then it will be obvious who the culprit is," Yuki pointed out. "No one would expect to survive a class trial using that tactic. It's unrealistic."

"I'm with Yuki!" Ryo patted her on the back amicably, though it did make her wince. "We'll set up a guard rotation for the weapons!"

"This is just another way Monokuma's torturing us," Hotaru groaned, rubbing his face with irritation and exhaustion. "We're starving, we're stir crazy, and now we have to set up a guard? How much longer until this all falls apart?"

"Don't lose hope," Makoto encouraged, putting a hand on Hotaru's (significantly taller) shoulder. "If we work as a team-"

"We're delaying the inevitable," Kokichi interrupted. Everyone turned to him, surprised to see his usual carefree face twisted into something more serious. He was unimpressed with the plan, and he was unimpressed with Monokuma's flimsy, lazy tactic. "This all feels like an exercise in futility. The partners, the food rationing, the weapon guards. How much longer until Yuki runs out of convenient plans, huh?" he shot the authoress a grim look, one she ducked away from. "How much longer until 'hope' and 'teamwork' stop working?"

"Kokichi," Makoto sighed.

"The little guy may be right," Hotaru mumbled, crossing his arms uncomfortably over his chest. His expression pinched, clearly unhappy with admitting that.

"I'm always right," Kokichi sniffed, painting over his previously serious demeanor with something more cocky, more familiar.

"I understand your frustration," Tohru spoke up, putting on her best 'CEO' voice. "You aren't the only ones. But as soon as we let our negative feelings take precedence over logic and reason, then that's when we lose. I know it's feeling hopeless," she looked around, her eyes settling on Kokichi's unimpressed expression. "But it's not just hope that will get us through this. It's logic."

Kokichi blinked, and a sinisterly amused smile split across his face, even as his eyebrows furrowed with frustration. "Spoken like a true capitalist. Alright. We'll go with the murder expert's plan, for now," he turned to cast his irritated smile in Yuki's direction. "Can I go eat my pathetically small breakfast now?"

"Yes. Yuki and I can start establishing a system for a guard rotation," Tohru said, before realizing and turning to Yuki. "That is, if it is alright with you, Yuki?"

"Yes, that's fine," Yuki nodded.

"I'll go to the grab and go with you, Kokichi!" Makoto exclaimed, linking his elbow in Kokichi's. The fashion designer's face fell.

"Joy," he deadpanned.

Once Makoto and Kokichi started to walk away, the whole group decided that the meeting was adjourned. A buzz of quiet murmurs swept over the crowd as they all split up and left, leaving Emiko, Yuki, and Tohru with the pile of weapons.

"What a lame manipulation tactic," Emiko scoffed down at the pile, sneering. "Monokuma's not even hiding the fact that he's desperate for a murder, huh?"

"Well, we probably threw a wrench in his plans when we threw out all the potential murder weapons on the first day," Yuki said. "Made him rethink his plans."

"I don't think this is the end of the world," Emiko pointed out. "It sucks, but I don't think anyone is going to resort to murder. And that's not me being 'hopeful' or whatever Makoto's always preaching about. Only an idiot would kill in this situation. It would be one against fifteen if it came to a murder trial, and the area is so small that it would be hard to do anything in secret." Emiko shrugged. "It's too risky."

"We are running out of time before we are completely out of food," Tohru countered. "People will get desperate."

"Then they need to use their brains!" Emiko exclaimed. "There would be no benefit to trying to get away with murder!"

"I don't disagree," Tohru sighed. "But I'm just...trying to be ready."

Emiko fell silent, lips tightening. She really couldn't argue with that.

After another day of what feels like mindless interactions at this point, Kokichi fell backwards onto his cot, arms splayed. He scowled at the ceiling as he heard the telltale sound of Monokuma popping up into his room. "It's tacky," he said before Monokuma could even get a word out.

"What's tacky?"

"Your lazy tactics," Kokichi let his head roll on his mattress, eyes falling onto the robot bear, standing in the middle of his room. "A pile of weapons? Really?"

"Well, Yuki went and tossed out everything my precious students could use to kill!" Monokuma exclaimed. "What other choice did I have?"

"Yeah? And now she's got a guard rotation around the pile. Clearly, you need to be a little more creative than that," Kokichi explained, begrudgingly sitting up in bed, leaning back against his hands. "Now all you have is a bunch of hungry, annoyed teenagers who have to stay up all night guarding a useless pile of shit."

"Oh, oh?" Monokuma pressed a paw to his mouth, cocking his head with amusement. "You seem confident. Don't be so sure it won't work, Mister Mastermind. You're not the only one here trying to get a killing game started."

Kokichi furrowed his eyebrows. "Do you know something I don't, bear?"

"I'm a robot, silly!" Monokuma exclaimed. "I know everything that you program me to know!"

"Right," Kokichi drew out the word, still skeptically staring Monokuma down. "And listen, did you do anything...weird to those weapons?"

"Weird how?"

"I don't know!" Kokichi exclaimed with exasperation. "Did you do something weird and mind-control-y to those weapons, maybe to make someone kill?!" He thought about the way that the crossbow made him freeze in terror. It nearly made him disassociate.

"Do you think I have mind control powers?" Monokuma asked, holding his paws out. "How would that even work?"

"I don't know, Monokuma," Kokichi pinched the bridge of his nose. "But those weapons were giving me a weird vibe. Did you do something?"

"I didn't do anything, it's just a normal pile of weapons," Monokuma shrugged. Kokichi could sense sincerity in his little robot voice, as hard as that is to detect. If anything, the robot sounded confused, so there's no way he did something to the weapons. Which means whatever cause that reaction was happening in his own head. Kokichi rubbed his forehead, sighing deeply, exhaustion deep in his bones.

"Alright. Maybe I'm just hungry."

"Well someone didn't want any special treatment!"

"Not complaining," Kokichi settled back down into his bed, this time making it up to his pillow. "I'm going to sleep now, leave me alone."

"Sure this, Mister Mastermind!" Kokichi didn't watch, but he heard the sound of Monokuma bounce back out of the room.

At midnight, it hit the end of Tohru's two hour guard shift. The rest of the ship was eerily quiet, as she sat perched up on a small table, legs dangling, eyes sharply on the weapons. After a full day of scheduling guard shifts with Yuki and Emiko, Tohru volunteered herself for the worst time slot: the middle of the night. Her fingers tapped nervously against the small table, recalling Yuki's words from earlier.

If someone on guard committed murder, then it would be obvious who the culprit is, she had said.

That was the basis of Tohru's whole plan. If anyone tried to kill, it would be obvious who it was.

Her stomach growled loudly, sounding like thunder in the quiet room. Her stomach had started to curl and cramp with hunger, as she was sure everyone else's was. Her shoulders hunched down with exhaustion. They needed calories. They were never going to be able to go on like this.

She barely knows these people. She knows that. The mere days they have spent together hardly qualify as anything beyond acquaintances. But still, watching Yuki trying to stay strong, watching Seiichi fall asleep throughout the day, watching Kokichi grow more and more irritable, Makoto grow more insistent on hope despite the growing bags under his eyes, Ryo's shaky limbs, Emiko's declining care in her physical appearance...these people were wasting away in front of her.

Tohru heard footsteps heading towards her, from down the hallway. From the elevator. Tohru closed her eyes.

Everyone was going to die. She had to do something.

"I'm here to take over," Hotaru announced his presence, stepping into the dim light. "Nice job not falling asleep on the job, Tohru."

Tohru opened her eyes, and lifted her head. She wore a small, calm smile. "Just be sure you don't do the same."

"No promises," Hotaru winked playfully as Tohru slipped off the table, socked feet landing quietly on the floor.

There was no reason for it to be Hotaru who followed her. It's just how it ended up being. It was random. Tohru tried to remind herself of that even as Hotaru casually strolled closer, going to sit where Tohru had been.

"Hey, Hotaru," she said. Hotaru glanced over at her.

"Yeah?"

"I'm...I'm so sorry."

"Here we go!" a Danganronpa employee's voice called out over the cubicle walls. Chihiro straightened up, watching as Tohru, reasonable, logical Tohru, revealed a knife hidden behind her back and stabbed Hotaru in the gut. Pink blood dripped onto the floor, but Tohru kept the knife in, keeping the blood spatter to a minimum. It wasn't a vicious movement. It was slow, close, intimate. And it completely took Hotaru off guard.

"Tohru is the first Blackened?" Keiko asked, leaning forward in her metal chair to get a closer look at Chihiro's screen.

"She mentioned sacrificing herself to get them food, and a bigger space," Chihiro whispered. "But didn't think Monokuma would accept a suicide. This must be the way..."

On Chihiro's screen, Hotaru slumped against the wall. They watched as Tohru put a hand on Hotaru's shoulder, lowering him to the floor with a surprising gentleness, considering she was still holding a knife into his side. Once he was fully lowered, Tohru stood back up, carefully extracting the knife from Hotaru. She stood there, staring down at the body, with a grim acceptance coloring her features.

"Hm. There goes the first one," Keiko muttered, sounding indifferent. That wasn't unexpected, considering everyone knew that Hotaru would be waking up from the simulation right about now-

Chihiro flinched in their chair, their focus yanked away from them as sudden, blaring alarms overloaded their senses. They reeled away from their computer, looking around to see red flashing lights.

Alert. Emergency in the Pod Unit. Alert.

A voice announced the words over the blaring alarm. The pod unit? Before they knew what they were doing, Chihiro was scrambling out of their chair, following the sudden rush of Danganronpa employees down the white hallway. They sprinted along with them, arms pumping, white coat fluttering behind them. Doors were being slammed, voices shouting out, but Chihiro barely registered them. They stumbled into the pod room, halting in their tracks to see a group of employees surrounding Hotaru's pod.

Hotaru. He was the one that just got killed in-game.

"Someone explain to me what's going on, now!" a strong voice commanded. It was Director Sho, storming into the room like a woman on a mission, her normally calm demeanor taken over by a stony, fuming expression.

When Chihiro looked back, they saw that Hotaru's pod has been opened, and someone...someone was doing chest compressions on the boy. Fearing the worst, Chihiro scrambled for the pod, frantically tapping on the screen and pulling up Hotaru's stats.

"He's flatlining!" Chihiro exclaimed over the chaos, barely registering the fact that Sho had come up to stand behind them. The person who was doing chest compressions was pushed away, making room for someone with a defibrillator.

"How did this happen?" Sho demanded down to Chihiro.

"I-I don't know!" they exclaimed, scrolling through Hotaru's code. "It must have been a glitch in his coding, but I- I-"

"I what?" Sho growled.

"Clear!" the medic called out, shoving the defibrillator against Hotaru's bare chest. The pale boy twitched underneath.

"I don't see a problem with his code," Chihiro said (more like yelled, over the loud room). "Everything here is in place."

"Then why did this happen?!" Sho asked.

"If it's not a problem with the pod's code, then it may be a problem with the...game's code," Chihiro said. Sho snarled, eyes glinting viciously.

"Mx. Chihiro, you are not trying to tell me-"

"Clear!" Bzzzt.

"-that Danganronpa itself is broken, are you?" Sho finished with a furious look in her eye. "Because if that's what you are insinuating, we are going to have a lot bigger problems than just one kid."

"I'm sorry, director," Chihiro shrugged, eyes wide and lost. "But Hotaru's pod is functioning just fine. If there's a glitch in Danganronpa's code, though, then this could mean-"

"-if they die in the simulation-" Sho continued.

"Director!" the medic interrupted their train of thought, catching their attention. He had his fingers pressing down against Hotaru's wrist, but he was looking squarely at Sho. "I need to call it."

"They...die in real life," Chihiro breathed.

Sho nodded to the medic, and they returned with an equally morose look.

"Time of death, 22:35."

Chapter Text

"NO!"

A team of Danganronpa employees sat around a long table. A series of white lab coats and black business suits, a combination of medical professionals, technology experts, business people, and television workers. The conversation was passionate, a growing shouting match layering over a white-noise machine of whispers and murmurs. The most passionate of the bunch, speaking much louder than they ever had in their lifetime, was Mx. Chihiro themself.

"We can't execute Tohru," Chihiro emphasized. "She may die in real life!"

"But we didn't say this first murder would be execution-free," an employee countered, pinching their chin. "The fans will be expecting a Blackened."

"We need to pull the season!" Chihiro slammed their hands down on the table, standing up so quickly that their chair slid out from under them. "It's insane we're still debating this! There's a dangerous glitch, and if we let this continue, more kids could die! Actually die. That is not what we signed up for!"

"We can't just stop a season that's already started," another employee disagreed. "That could have unforeseen consequences."

"What, we lose viewership?!" Chihiro snapped.

"No," the employee glared. "Psyches could get twisted, memories could be lost, or gained too soon. They may come out not having any sense of self at all! They need to go through the entirety of the simulation. If they don't exit naturally-" a.k.a., dying or graduation- "it will interrupt the character development in their brain. Who knows what could happen?"

"Worse, it could have physical consequences," another employee said, arms crossed over their chest. "Let's not forget about Kokichi from last season. And that was a natural exit."

"Could they die?" Director Sho asked, pulling the attention of the room to where she was, standing at the head of the table with her chin in her palm. She wasn't looking at any of them, instead staring down at the table in thought.

"They could," an employee said. "If we interrupt the simulation, they could die."

"If we let the killing game continue, they will die!" Chihiro exclaimed, begging for at least Sho to see reason.

"They could die, no matter what we do," Sho sighed, sinking down into her chair, raising her chin to look at her coworkers. "We're damned if we do, damned if we don't."

"How many deaths will the government let us get away with?!" Chihiro snapped, refusing to sit back down, now the only one standing at the table. "Hotaru, we passed as a workplace accident, but fifteen more casualties?!" Chihiro's gaze flew towards Sho, fiery and not backing down. "It's murder."

The room was silent, Chihiro's words seeming to throw a blanket over their previous, combative nature. Danganronpa employees sat in a tense, heavy silence, each looking towards the other for an answer. Eyes seemed to flicker particularly between Chihiro, the very vocal head coder, and Sho, the director.

"They signed consent forms," an employee spoke up quietly. Chihiro's head snapped in their direction, and they held their palms up in surrender. "The consent forms warned them about physical damage."

"Did the consent forms warn them about death?" Chihiro snarled through bared teeth. "This is wrong, Sho," they turned back to the director. "Even for us. Even for Danganronpa. This can't continue."

Sho looked up, meeting eyes with Chihiro. Her eyes were tired, nearly dismissive. Chihiro's eyes were begging, pleading.

"Please," they tried.

After another moment of intense eye contact, Sho's eyes flickered back down towards the table.

"We can't risk interrupting the simulation now that it has started," Sho stated, firmly. "We keep going."

The employees around the table rustled, murmurs rising. Chihiro stared at Sho, agape.

"We will try and figure out this glitch, and stop any more real life deaths," Sho continued over the noise. "We will not execute Tohru, not until we figure out what's wrong with the game. Let's do our best to not let any other kids die in the simulation until we get this figured out."

"What about Hotaru's murder?" someone asked. "People will be expecting a trial. And Tohru will remember killing Hotaru, what will happen with her?"

"We wipe her memories. Start anew," Sho announced. "Pass Hotaru's death off as an accident, or even as a suicide. We'll still open the ship, get a new motive, but we can't let anyone else die. Not until we figure out what's causing this glitch."

Ryo tended to be an early riser. Though his lifestyle did often require late nights at rehearsals and performances, he still liked to get up early. Do an easy morning workout, eat some oats, drink heaps and heaps of tea. Makoto, another early riser, had caught on to this fact and often knocked at both his and Hotaru's doors in the morning, looking for some breakfast companions. Ryo liked his little breakfast trio.

He was just finishing getting dressed when he heard Makoto's scheduled knock. With a slight smile tugging at his lips, the ballet dancer opened the door, revealing a waiting Makoto.

"Good morning, Ryo!" Makoto exclaimed, tone somewhat hushed in respect to the still sleeping members of the hallway.

"Morning, Makoto," Ryo stretched and cracked his back. "Let's go get Speed Demon."

Together, the two boys walked to Hotaru's cabin, Makoto knocking at the door. No response. Not a sound came from behind the door. "Not like him to sleep in," Ryo mumbled to himself.

"You know what? I think I remember him being scheduled for guard duty last night, I bet he's still there," Makoto pointed out.

"You're probably right," Ryo agreed easily. The two of them started to quietly head to the elevator. They walked in companionable silence, mindful of their sleeping acquaintances. Ryo honestly loved this time of day, even despite the circumstances. There was a peaceful, quiet stillness to the world, this early in the morning. He missed the dewy grass, the low hanging fog, the orange glow of a rising sun. Here, all he got was a peek of the foggy sea out his porthole.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a frenzied and frantic Rei. Not an usual state for the opera singer, however it was surprising to see her away at this hour, and moreso to find her sprinting full-speed at them.

"Woah!" Ryo threw his hands up as she skid to a stop in front of them.

"Weapons! Hotaru!" she exclaimed, pointing behind herself as if that at all explained the situation. Makoto and Ryo exchanged worried looks, before wordlessly running to follow Rei where she had come from. To the pile of weapons by the grab-and-go. As all three skid to a stop, a disconcerting new sound played over the ship's loudspeakers.

Ding dong dong ding.

"A body has been discovered!"

Kokichi was brutally ripped out of his sleep by the blaring sound of the body discovery announcement. He sat up straight in bed in a too-fast motion, causing his stomach to flip and his head to split in two.

No no no, how could this happen?!

Yes, the killing game is finally under way!

He's failed, no one was supposed to die on his watch.

Who could have been killed? Who is the Blackened? This had better be an interesting first class trial!

What would  K̵̛̛̼̱̪̲̝͇͛̌̂͒̓͗̂́͋̃̽̃͆͊͌͗̀̋́̌̄̍̓̅̈̉̽̄̓̓̂̕͘̚͜͝͠͝ͅa̵̢̛͇̬͎̞̗̫̣̥̝̝̫͖̙͇̩̖̬͊̊̋̈́͗͂͑͋̓̐̓̒̋̊̀͆̓͛̓͗͗́͗̓̏͋̋̕̚͘͜͠͠ͅi̴̧̧͎͙̯̫̟̥͗̈́̓͗̂̀̀͂͑̈́́́͌̉́̀͐̉̎͋̃̃̈́̔̉͌̍̿͛͂̅́̈̕̚͝͠ͅţ̸̤̠̥̯̣͑̊͂̄̐̊̀͒̍͌̂̑̿̀͒͌̈́͋̎̑̀͛̑͑̀̈́̂͗̅̒͛͐̓̇̊̄̀͑̚͘͝͠͝͝͠͝͝ơ̴̦͔̘̖̦͖̯̩̞̬͋̒̃̊̈́̆̅̊̂̑̄̐̈́̉͗͜͝ think?

Kokichi grit his teeth to hold back a whine, doubling over and clutching his head with both hands in pain. What the hell was that? What the hell was happening to him?! He tried to push back the strong pounding in his head, behind his eyes. Get up, he thought to himself, snarling and pushing himself off his cot. There was no time for migraines, someone finally was killed, and Kokichi couldn't wait to see the Despair.

He flew down the hallway, registering footsteps and other people running with him, but didn't bother to check who they were. He spotted the steadily growing group by the grab-and-go, and shoved his way to the front of the crowd. There, laid Hotaru Saeki, the Ultimate Track Star. He was leaned against the wall, stabbed in the abdomen. Not the most creative or most brutal kill, but beggars can't be choosers. Kokichi released a shaky breath, standing at the front of the crowd. He didn't register, didn't revel in the exclamations of disbelief and horror around him. There was a pounding in his ear, like rushing water. Hotaru was dead. His killing game had started. Big Sis would be so-

"Kokichi, are you alright?" the sound of his own name tore him out of whatever trance he had gotten stuck in. Makoto had gone up to him, eyebrows drawn in concern.

"Yes, I'm fine," Kokichi tried to hide the tension in his voice by disguising it as sarcasm. "I just love finding dead bodies. It's my favorite pre-breakfast activity."

Makoto frowned, but not at Kokichi's sarcasm. "It's unnerving, isn't it? Rei was the first to find him, and she got Ryo and I right after."

"He...he was supposed to wake me up for guard duty," Rei sniffled once Kokichi's head swiveled to stare at her. "I tend to be a deep sleeper, and I was worried I would sleep in and not relieve him of guard duty, so I asked him to come get me. When I woke up, I-" Rei couldn't finish, turning and scrubbing at her eyes.

Rei could be the obvious choice, Kokichi thought to himself. But she doesn't seem to have the constitution for it. If Hotaru was killed while on guard duty, that could leave anyone just waltzing up and killing him. They would have needed a way to get close to him without being suspicious...

What are you doing? Kokichi asked himself. Monokuma can just tell you what happened.

And Kokichi continued to wonder all through said bear's explanation of investigation time and the following trial. Should he make Monokuma tell him what happened? Or would it be more fun for him to try and figure it out alongside his fellow players? Kokichi didn't necessarily want special treatment, and he certainly wanted to be entertained. He tried to catch any clue he could while Monokuma distracted them with instructions. He glanced over Hotaru's body, then studied each teen's face, without moving from his spot. Everyone's face had the expected mix of surprise, horror, disgust. The usual. As far as he could tell, no one was exhibiting any tells, no one was wearing a mask of surprise over their true feelings. But not everyone can be shocked, right? The Blackened must know what's going on.

Kokichi was so lost in thought, he almost missed Monokuma ending the conversation and leaving. He roused himself as the teens began to talk over each other, accusations already flying.

"Tohru had guard duty before him!" Kimi exclaimed, pointing at the business woman.

"And Rei had duty after him," Tohru pointed out calmly, though her eyebrows were drawn inward with concern.

"Anyone could have gone up to him during his guard duty, that line of thinking won't go anywhere," Emiko sighed, exasperated.

"Then what line of thinking do we follow?" Seiichi asked.

"Yuki? What do you think?" as per usual, Emiko turned the questions over to the authoress.

"Perhaps...the murder weapon?" Yuki mused. "It is right here, after all," she motioned down to the bloody knife, laying between Hotaru's legs and still covered in blood. "It's strange for a murderer to leave such blatant evidence behind. Hotaru's time of death was the middle of the night, they would have had plenty of time to hide the murder weapon. Why leave it here?"

"Is it some kind of red herring?" Tohru asked.

"I don't think so," Yuki replied. "Hotaru's wound definitely looks like a knife wound. And the blood spatter... it tracks down to the knife exactly."

"Anyone else notice how the knife is within arm's reach of Hotaru?" Kokichi asked, staring down at the body. Everyone seemed startled by his words, following his gaze.

"What are you trying to say?" Makoto was the only one willing to speak up. He didn't sound accusatory, just...curious.

"It's just weird that the knife fell in that specific spot, is all," Kokichi shrugged. He was already leaning towards his theory, and judging by everyone else's reactions, they were following along. Is it possible that Hotaru killed himself?

It didn't quite track. Hotaru was one of the louder, hungrier students. He was clearly getting antsy and restless, and the minimal calories weren't helping. But out of everyone, he seemed the most desperate to escape to freedom, not...to end it all. But you can't always tell, Kokichi pondered down to Hotaru's corpse. He and the others will investigate further, but the theory will remain in the back of his head.

The investigation time was short, considering their limited space. There weren't many places to investigate in the first place, though Yuki combed over the hallway and the grab-and-go as intensely as she could. As the defacto, unwitting 'leader' of the group, Yuki felt responsible for figuring this mystery out as quickly and smoothly as possible. No loose ends, no goose chases. This wasn't one of her mystery novels, this was a trial, with real people's lives on the line.

Speaking of lives, Yuki barely allowed herself any time to truly mourn Hotaru. She knows that a lot of her peers had surrounded the body, with a variety of different horrified and deeply saddened reactions. They have only known each other a short while, but in the cramped space and rationed food, connections have grown. People were going to mourn.

Unfortunately, Yuki did not have the time to process. She had a mystery to solve.

Once Monokuma had called the investigation time to a close, Yuki felt like she had everything she needed, and she had a feeling some of the other students felt the same. So, once they were taken through a strange looking elevator down into a gaudy, sea-themed trial ground, she made sure they got right down to business.

"Hotaru killed himself."

She was met with a number of surprised gasps. A couple students, however, looked less shocked. Emiko, Kokichi, and Tohru, to name a few.

"What do you mean, Hotaru killed himself?!" Ryo exclaimed. "He wanted to get out as much as the rest of us!"

"We may never know the motivations," Yuki said. "Maybe he wanted to save us all from starving to death. Maybe he was just losing hope."

"But I thought Monokuma wouldn't accept a suicide in a killing game," Tohru mused, glancing up at the bear sitting in the captain's seat. "I thought he would only accept murders."

"Hm? Did I say that?" Monokuma cocked his head thoughtfully, and Tohru's frowned deepened.

"I can't say I disagree with Yuki's theory," she said. "However, something doesn't feel right. As if we are overlooking something important." She put a hand to her forehead, furrowing her eyebrows in an uncharacteristically confused gesture from the otherwise confident businesswoman. "But I'm not sure what."

"Well, maybe we're not overlooking anything," Emiko pinched her chin. "I mean, Yuki's pretty spot on. The knife was within arm's reach of the body, remember? And there wasn't any sign of a struggle."

"It was right outside the girl's bedrooms," Yuki added. "We would have heard if there was a struggle."

"Then that means Hotaru didn't fight at all?" Ryo asked. "I guess the suicide theory makes sense then. He's not the type of guy to just let someone kill him."

"And he did seem like the kind of guy who wanted to greater good for the group," Makoto pointed out. "Maybe he did sacrifice himself, for us."

"We're days away from being totally out of food," Aaliyah said. "If someone were to make a drastic move, now would have been the time to do so."

"So, we really think that Hotaru is the Blackened?" Kokichi asked. "There's no other possibility?" That question, he directed up towards Monokuma. The bear, unsurprisingly, did not provide an answer.

"I mean...I don't know about you guys, but I really don't want to accuse anyone else of being a murderer," Seiichi nervously spoke up, their hands coming up to slightly cover their mouth as they spoke. "I know we all met recently, but..."

"No, I get what you mean," Ryo agreed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just can't see anyone here being a murderer."

"If you can't see anyone here being a murderer, then you are agreeing to the fact that Hotaru killed himself," Kokichi pointed out. "Are you agreeing to that?"

Ryo looked hesitantly around the room. His eyes didn't stop at one particular person, instead scanning his fellow teens in a sweeping circle. "I guess I am."

"That seems...quick," Makoto mumbled, studying the buttons on his podium carefully. "Could it really be so simple?"

"There's only one way to find out," Kokichi shrugged, eyes glued to Yuki. Despite his confident statement, it seemed he was waiting for her to make the first move.

So, she did. She reached out and pressed the button to vote for Hotaru as the Blackened.

The trial grounds went silent for a moment. Then, one by one, everyone else did the same. Emiko didn't hesitate, agreeing easily with Yuki. The last two people to vote were Kokichi and Tohru, both of whom took a second to think it over before pressing their buttons. Unanimous votes.

"And the votes are in!" Monokuma exclaimed. Yuki tensed up, waiting for the bear to reveal if they were right...

Confetti shot out of a cheesy looking video-game screen. "Looks like you voted correctly!" Monokuma cheered. "The Blackened in this case, was none other than Hotaru Saeki, the Ultimate Track Star!" After such a cheerful announcement, Monokuma actually had the audacity to wilt and look disappointed. "Aw, that means no execution today. Sorry, for all those who were eagerly awaiting the first execution!"

"Who was eagerly awaiting something like that?!" Makoto exclaimed in frustration.

"However, there is something else exciting coming for you, puhuhu," Monokuma giggled. "Thanks to Hotaru being the first one to man up and spill some blood, even if it was his own, a bit more of the ship has been opened up for you! Free access to the lower deck, a game room, and...drumroll please!"

"Just spit it out," Tatsuo, the drummer, of all people, growled through clenched teeth.

"The buffet-style restaurant! All you can eat, at your fingertips!"

Yuki perked up at that. In fact, they all perked up at that. Despite the somber beginning to the trial, she saw people celebrating out of her peripheral vision. Seichii and Rei clasping each other's hands, Ryo picking up Makoto in a full-body hug and spinning him in a circle. And Emiko, smiling, watching Yuki the whole time.

"You did it," the actress breathed in admiration. And Yuki couldn't help but smile in return.

Tohru couldn't let herself enjoy the reveal of the next part of the ship. The lower deck was the first part they hit, students rushing out of the cruise ship and running around, gulping down fresh air for the first time in weeks. She watched as Ryo danced around the deck, Makoto laid down on the ground and laughed, and Tatsuo, Aaliyah, and Ayumi perched themselves up on the railing, flinging their arms out like a familiar American movie, the name of which was escaping Tohru right now.

Behind them, Tohru could see the bottom of an upper deck. However, there was no staircase to get up there, and no pathway from the inside. The upper deck must be a part of the ship Monokuma's keeping closed, at least until another death.

"No way, there's a pool!" Emiko exclaimed. "Yuki, come check it out!"

Tohru turned back in the direction of her acquaintances...people she may even secretly call friends. While they pranced around in the sun, soaking in the fresh air and elbow room, Tohru could only watch.

Something was very, very wrong.

Something in the back of her head insisted that Hotaru had not killed himself. It did not make sense. Suicide had been an option she entertained for herself, for a moment, but the way Monokuma worded his rules so particularly kept her from doing so. However, Monokuma himself had told them that Hotaru had killed himself. But Tohru just couldn't believe it.

Firstly, it was all too neat. No red herrings, no accusations thrown out. Just "Hotaru killed himself" and then trial over? It was too easy, and a sadistic creature like Monokuma should not have been satisfied with that.

Secondly, the motive just wasn't there. Tohru was well aware that people who were suffering often didn't show it. However, Hotaru committing suicide just didn't make sense. He was getting restless, anxious, but unlike others in the group, he wasn't getting hopeless. Tohru was just struggling to believe it.

Tohru lifted her head to the sky, feeling the wind blow a few stray hairs out of her neat bun, fluttering across her forehead. The sun was out, but not blinding. It warmed her skin in a way she hadn't felt in weeks.

"Something on your mind?"

Though she was startled by the interruption, Tohru didn't jump. Instead, she looked down to find Kokichi standing beside her, hands in his pockets. The tape measure around his neck fluttered gently in the breeze. He wasn't looking at her, instead out at the others, playing on the deck.

"It just feels...wrong," Tohru admitted. "I can't believe that we know everything about Hotaru's death. I feel like there is something we are missing."

Kokichi hummed thoughtfully. "But, Monokuma said we were right. If we were wrong, he would have executed all of us, right?"

"Right," Tohru agreed. "So that must mean that Hotaru killed himself."

"Right," Kokichi mirrored her agreement. Neither had sounded convinced. Neither spoke up about it again.

You know there's something wrong here, said a voice in the back of Tohru's mind. You know what happened.

"Guys!" Ryo bounded over to the two quieter members of the group. "We're going to go check out the buffet and stuff our faces, let's go!"

Kokichi smiled. "I don't 'stuff my face' with food, but a meal sounds perfect right about now."

"Of course," Tohru agreed. Everyone was starving from rationing, and the sound of a buffet was perfect. "But we must be careful, we can't actually 'stuff our faces'. We need to eat slowly and carefully, as to not overdo it after weeks of-"

"Last one to the buffet is a rotten egg!" Tatsuo rocketed past them, sprinting back to the inside part of the boat. He was flanked by the more athletic members, like Kimi the tennis player and Keiji the stuntman (with his face as stoic as ever, despite the speed at which he was running). Tohru glanced down at Kokichi, who threw a playful wink in her direction before sprinting off as well.

Tohru watched the variety of teenagers run full-speed excitedly in the direction of food, and she smiled.

Maybe she was just overthinking things.

Kokichi was by no means the first one to make it to the restaurant, but he didn't mind. After all, he was already feeling pretty good, post-trial.

Except that no one got executed.

Kokichi was skeptical about that. It was unlike Monokuma to accept a suicide as the first trial of the killing game. It wasn't very entertaining. Kokichi couldn't say he was thrilled at the outcome of his first motive, but Monokuma didn't seem to mind too much. Something in the back of his mind was crying out at him. He must have missed something, there's no way this was the outcome of his first trial.

Stop it, he scolded himself. You're just disappointed you didn't get to watch an execution. There's nothing...suspicious going on.

"I can't believe it!" Kokichi tuned back in to Ryo, looking close to tears as he looked over the unmanned buffet. "I can't believe we're really here!"

"Again, please eat with caution," Tohru sighed. "You will make yourselves sick if you do not eat slowly."

"I really thought we were going to starve," unlike Ryo, Rei was actually in tears, sniffling over the food. It made Emiko grimace, grabbing the opera singer by the shoulder and tugging her away from the counter.

"Don't get snot in our eggs."

"Guys, we can't let Hotaru's sacrifice be in vain!" Ryo spun to face everyone, fists clenched in a determined gesture that reminded Kokichi of someone... Oh, he was still talking. "We have fresh air, we have real food, and from now on we will be able to work together to-"

b̴̤̠͕̘͍̣̜̳̖̱̞͚̰̉̎̿̈́̉̊̉̄̀͂̈́͜͠à̷͔̔͆̌͒͂̋̐́̈́̈͘ç̶̨̩̱͔͓͈͚̜̍̅̈́͋͝ͅk̵͕͎̈̆́̇d̷̪͎͉͓͓͉̙̠̹̖̟̗̉̿̀̚͝͠ơ̴̢̪̩͚͕̺̱͓̖͓̮̦͌̒̇̎̅̊̈́͌͗͜͠o̶̢̝͉̖̣̥̱̝͈͉̺̺̼͇̫̓͛͂̈́̈́̌̐̌͛͘̚͘ŗ̷̺̟͖̼̣̜̎͐̈́́̈̕̚.̷̧̨͍̹̦̻̜̯̰̙̈́̄̈́̄̎̿̉̽́̍̓̈́͜ͅv̴̼̻̒̔̈́͛̿́̄͑͐̀͗̇͝3̵̺̰͙͈̱̼̘̝͈̗̪̗͇͆͐̋̌͘͠

Kokichi blinked as Ryo's voice slowly faded, until it was just muffled background noise. His eyes looked just past Ryo's shoulder, across the restaurant.

The blue-eyed, white-haired spectre was back.

Kokichi's eyes widened, staring in horror at the boy. No one else seemed to notice him, the conversation droning on in the back of his mind. Kokichi could hear his own heartbeat, his blood rushing through his veins, and the metallic whir of a machine starting up.

The white-haired boy took a step forward.

Kokichi flinched so violently that he threw himself backwards, stumbling over a table behind him. The edge of the table dug into the small of his back and he gasped, catching himself as the glasses and utensils rattled at the disturbance. The muffled drone of the conversation abruptly stopped, and everyone was looking at Kokichi now, in concern and confusion. He gaped at them, blinking and looking back for the white-haired boy.

He was gone.

b̸̙̙̯̜̠̫͑̈́̈́͠a̵̫̔̓̿͂c̵̛̹̳͙̀̒̃̀k̷̳͕͓̏͑̑ḑ̷̢̡̭̗͓̺̿ó̸̞ȏ̶̧͎͔̣͕̲̙̆̅r̷͉̞̪̂.̶̬̠̮̓̈́v̷̞͍̈́̏̀̉3̶̢̙̯̼͉̖̎̑́̉͘

"Are you alright, Kokichi?" Makoto asked.

"I know it's a scary situation, but there's no reason to start freaking out on us now," Emiko added.

Kokichi cleared his throat, straightening himself up and picking up a knocked-over glass. "Who's freaking out?" he chuckled as passively as he could. "Just lost my footing, is all. I'm starving over here, I'm about to faint!"

"Oh, then we should eat!" Rei gasped, falling for it easily.

Kokichi threw one last hesitant look over his shoulder before going for a plate.

When Mx. Chihiro returned to their cubicle, the intern, Keiko, was still sitting at their desk. Her head shot up, eyes wide, but she stayed silent, clearly waiting for Chihiro to explain what's going on. Chihiro met their gaze, took a deep, long-suffering sigh, and sunk into their chair, head rolling back.

They could feel Keiko's gaze on them, waiting for instructions, an explanation, something.

"Have you been waiting here this whole time?" Chihiro asked, not opening their eyes.

"Yes," Keiko didn't hesitate, and then didn't elaborate. A small pang of guilt shot through Chihiro's chest, knowing that the kid has been sitting here since the alarms went off. It's been hours by now, with them stuck in meetings trying to figure out what to do.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. What happened?"

A logical question, of course. Still, not one that Chihiro wanted to answer. Slowly, tiredly, they opened their eyes, looking blankly at their computer screen.

"A glitch."

Keiko didn't respond to that. Maybe she heard the exhaustion in their tone. Maybe she could figure out from the mood of the office what 'glitch' meant. Regardless, Chihiro was thankful for her silence. It gave them a second to truly sit down and think about what just happened.

"Keiko?"

"Yes, Mx. Chihiro?"

"Can you grab us coffee?"

"Yes, Mx. Chihiro."

Chihiro didn't watch, but rather heard Keiko get up from her chair, bow, and hurriedly rush to the break room. Chihiro sighed again, leaning forward and pulling up a new screen on their computer.

Was this you? they typed into the program. Was this us?

A buffer.

I don't know, Kiibo answered.

Chapter Text

Kaito's house was silent. The guests consisted of a wheelchair-bound Korekiyo, Shuichi, and Kaede. Rantaro, Miu, and a little Kiibo on her phone screen were also present. Not a single soul moved, or breathed.

"What are we gonna do?" Miu finally asked, breaking the silence with her hoarse voice. Still, no one could respond.

After witnessing the first murder, Hotaru, Rantaro got a news alert on his phone. He had snatched up the remote (to some protests) and quickly switched the channel, going from Danganronpa to a news station.

Breaking News

Danganronpa Participant Dead

"Breaking news, this just in," the reporter said, clutching a file in a white-knuckled grip. "Team Danganronpa just released a statement announcing their first victim, Hotaru Saeki, had passed away upon leaving his simulation pod. While there are no official details yet, Team Danganronpa medical professionals believe that it was a series of preexisting conditions that lead to Hotaru being unable to wake up from the simulation. This is unprecedented territory, as no one in the last thirty four seasons of Danganronpa ever died immediately upon leaving the pods. Some folks are likening to past participants, who did tragically pass away post-killing game, but all of those happened months or even years after their killing games. Though Saeki's health may be to blame, there is already gossip going around, claiming that it was actually a mechanical failure on Team Danganronpa's part. If the rumors are to be believed, are the rest of the participants really as safe as Team Danganronpa claims? More info as it comes in, this is Amano Minako, 321News."

The news cut away from Minako, showing some b-reel footage of past Danganronpa seasons. Kaito leaned back into the couch in disbelief, eyes wide.

"Seriously, guys, what are we gonna do?" Miu asked again, looking around at the others frantically.

Kaede tapped Rantaro's shoulder, catching his attention. Her hands started flying through the air, signing something to him. Rantaro understood, nodding and translating as she went along.

"We need to talk to Mx. Chihiro," Kaede said through Rantaro's voice. "Miu, go contact them, see if they can give us more information. Shuichi, you check the anti-Danganronpa chat. It's probably going crazy, and we need to keep things in order."

Miu nodded, already launching off the couch to rush to her office. Shuichi pulled out his phone and gasped at the amount of messages already flooding the chat. "Everyone's going crazy. No word from that Admin guy yet, though."

Kaede tapped Kaito's shoulder. When he didn't react, she tapped harder, and he turned. She signed earnestly up to him, slow and simple enough that Kaito could understand.

He's not alone.

Letting out a shaky breath, Kaito nodded down at her. But still, he found he couldn't move from his spot.

"Mx. Chihiro's already reached out," Miu announced, running back into the room with a piece of paper. She shoved it to Rantaro, who seemed to be deemed the translator for the girls. He accepted it and started to read aloud.

"You've probably heard by now. Not sure what the specific issue is, but I don't think it's any preexisting condition. The pod Hotaru was in was perfectly functional, I couldn't find anything wrong with it. My theory is that there is an issue with the coding of the game itself. This can be catastrophic. Team Danganronpa refuses to pull the plug on this season- I tried. They are worried that stopping the game without the kids 'graduating' would only result in more deaths. So, we need to get everyone to graduate the game, if we want everyone to survive."

"Jeez, that's not good," Shuichi covered his mouth with his hand. "Not even Mx. Chihiro knows what the true origin of the problem is."

"We don't think this was Kokichi, do we?" A voice that had remained silent this whole time spoke up, freezing everyone in their tracks. Slowly, they all glanced over at Korekiyo, whose eyes were still trained solely on the screen.

"What do you mean?" Kaito asked, hoarse, hesitant.

"Kokichi had a plan going into the game, right?" Korekiyo whispered. "Something that would make Danganronpa end for good. You don't think he...?"

"Put in a code that would kill the participants in real life to ruin Team Danganronpa's credit?" Rantaro finished for him, sounding offended. "No! That's not like Kokichi at all. You know he wouldn't put anyone in harms way for real-"

Miu flinched, putting a hand to her throat, and that made Rantaro falter. He held a hand out, stammered, and tried to continue.

"And it's not like Kokichi is some master coder! He wouldn't be able to slip something past Danganronpa's top coders! Right, Kiibo?"

"T-That's right!" little icon Kiibo spoke up from Miu's discarded phone. "Mx. Chihiro and I have been searching for the bug, and we can't find anything. Certainly, Kokichi couldn't have pulled off such a complex code."

"There! See!" Rantaro exclaimed, throwing his arms out in Miu's and Korekiyo's directions. "There's nothing to worry about. This wasn't Kokichi."

"Ok, but if it wasn't Kokichi, we still have to worry. It was risky enough, with him sacrificing his memories to go in. Now, he's risking his life," Shuichi pointed out. His phone made a little ding, catching his attention. He looked down and started reading.

"So if it isn't Kokichi, then why is this happening? The timing just seems too convenient, does it not?" Korekiyo asked.

"Kokichi wouldn't do this," Rantaro insisted. "Not only wouldn't, but couldn't. He would need to know someone with intense coding ability."

Korekiyo glanced over at Miu, who flinched and stammered. "I'm not a coder! I'm an inventor! Learn the difference, dumbass!"

"Miu wouldn't be able to keep a secret like that," Kaito pointed out. "Remember how shady she was when she was planning a murder? There's no way she caused this."

"Hey!" Miu exclaimed, offended.

"I'm defending you, here," Kaito pointed out.

"Oh, that's right."

"Guys, I got a personal message from Admin, outside of the chat," Shuichi spoke up, still looking down at his phone. "You guys might want to see this."

Kaito leaned over, reading over Shuichi's shoulder.

Admin: I know this is scary. But this isn't the end. I have a contact inside Team DR. They will feed me information on these simulation pods. I will send over everything I receive.

Shuichi: We have a contact inside too. They don't think the pods are the issue. They think it's a problem with the coding of the game itself.

Admin is typing...

.

Admin is typing...

Admin: That does change things. However, this still can be useful information. Do you think Miu could work with this?:

Admin sent a pdf.

After a hearty, buffet-style meal, the kids all returned to the deck to breathe in the fresh air. The energy buzzed with the same excitement as before, but now it was mellowed by full stomachs. No one was running now, merely stretching and exploring at a leisurely place. Yuki walked all the way up the deck to the railing overlooking the sea. She set her hands down against the cool railing, leaning forward and letting the salty air blow back the stray crimson hairs that had slipped out of her braid. She could hear the quiet chatter of everyone else behind her, but more importantly, she could hear the wind whistling, the waves slapping happily against the boat. The sun had lowered just a bit in the sky, not at the point of a full sunset, but casting a gentle orange glow across the ship.

Yuki heard more than she saw Emiko settle beside her, leaning her elbows against the railing and bending over lazily. Yuki glanced over at her, watching how her golden hair fluttered in the wind. Emiko was looking out at the water, but when she felt the other girl's gaze, she glanced up at her with a content smirk.

"Feeling better now that you've eaten?"

Yuki nodded. "I think we all are," she glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the group. Some of them had taken to laying down right on the floor, soaking up the sun and fresh air. Others wandered still, discovering a juice bar off to the side, and some beach chairs that the others were too lazy to get off the ground to go sit in. Yuki's lips twitched upwards, amused.

"I guess we can thank Hotaru for this, huh?" Emiko asked, her smile turning just a bit grim. "Without his sacrifice, we would still be stuck in that cramped hallway. I don't know how much longer I could have handled that," she admitted, ducking her head back down to look at the water directly below them. "I don't know how much longer any of us could have handled that."

"And without that food, the situation would have turned fatal quickly," Yuki pointed out. "It wasn't just a question of your strength of will. The human body will give out if it isn't getting enough nutrition."

"That meal was pretty amazing, wasn't it?" Emiko chuckled. "I've certainly had better, but after weeks of crappy grab-and-go snacks, it was good to have something actually filling. Though maybe my refined tastes have gone downhill since getting stuck on this damn boat."

Yuki smiled. "I liked it. Buffet style is always a fun take on a meal."

"Hey, girls!"

Yuki and Emiko glanced over their shoulders, and Ryo waving them down. With him was Rei, Kimi, and Keiji, standing by the entrance back to the inside part of the boat. "We're going to go check out this supposed 'game room'!" Ryo called out. "Want to come with?"

Yuki looked around at the others. It seemed everyone else was content staying on the deck, with a couple folks even rolling up their pants and sticking their feet into the pool.

"Maybe it is a good idea to go explore all the new places, what do you think?" Emiko asked, quietly, so that the group couldn't hear.

"I agree. I wonder what kind of place this game room will be," Yuki cupped her chin.

"Yeah, we'll go with you!" Emiko called out, slipping her arm to lock elbows with Yuki, and the two of them followed the small group back into the ship.

Kokichi's eyes followed Emiko and Yuki's movements, watching as they followed Ryo back into the boat to check out the game room. Kokichi himself was sitting at the edge of the pool, leaning back on the palms of his hands, feet dangling lazily in the water. He kicked his feet slowly, the water rippling out from his ankles. The pool was clear, and you could see right through to the marble-y blue bottom.

"Not joining them?" he asked his companions.

"I definitely want to check it out," Makoto mused from beside him, putting a finger to his chin. "But we haven't been outside in so long, I just want to be in fresh air a little while longer."

"I am not big on games myself, so I see no reason to go," Tohru admitted, sitting across from them on the other side of the pool. While she had her feet dangling in the water just like the other two, she sat up straight, hands resting her lap, the picture of refinement. Still, whenever she wasn't speaking, she was looking out into the distance, eyebrows somewhat furrowed. She looked confused. Kokichi had to admit, he felt similar, though he wasn't sure why.

"What about you?" Makoto asked, pulling at Kokichi's attention.

"No thanks, I'm allergic to video games."

"Really?!"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Kokichi put a mischievous finger to his lips, grinning. Makoto simply laughed it off, meanwhile Kokichi flinched and looked down at his own finger as if it had bit him.

Why did that action feel so familiar, just now?

"Besides," Kokichi spoke up before he realized what he was doing, curling his finger inwards and leaning back on both hands. "I belong at the pool, where I can show a little more skin," he lifted one foot in the air, showing off his glistening, pale calf, exposed from his rolled up pant leg. He shot Makoto a flirtatious look, but as usual, the boy seemed unfazed.

"It is a really nice pool," Makoto uselessly agreed. "Maybe Monokuma would give us some swimsuits."

"You can take that up with Monokuma yourself," Kokichi cocked an eyebrow. "Sure, someone died, but at least we get chorine."

"T-That's not what I-!" Makoto stammered.

"Stop harassing him," Tohru scolded, seeming to break out of whatever trance she had been fading into. "And Makoto, you stop worrying so much. Kokichi is just trying to get a rise out of you."

"Am I succeeding?" Kokichi waggled his eyebrows at Makoto suggestively. Makoto blinked innocently once, twice, then threw his head back and laughed.

"You're just messing with me!"

"Yeah, that's me," Kokichi smirked. "Big ol' kidder."

"We should head inside soon," Tohru said, looking straight up at the darkening sky. "Now that the sun has set, it's going to get colder out here. We have full access to the deck, so we shouldn't worry about missing out on fresh air. But we should return to our rooms soon."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Makoto swung his legs out of the pool, grabbing a nearby white towel (far too small to dry any body, as cruise ship towels usually are) and starting to rub down his feet. "It's been a long day anyway. And I'm sure Monokuma has more unpleasantness for us tomorrow."

"Unpleasant is putting it quite lightly," Kokichi drawled. "Goodnight, dearest."

"Goodnight, Kokichi," Makoto snickered at the pet name, completely unfazed by Kokichi's antics. As the storybook writer headed back inside, Kokichi looked back at Tohru.

"You going to bed, too?"

"Yes. It's been...a confusing night," Tohru rubbed her temple. "I still feel like I'm missing something. Something important."

"Maybe you need to sleep on it?" Kokichi offered.

"Perhaps," Tohru sighed, lowering her hand. "Would you like to walk back together, Kokichi? We should stick with Yuki's stay-in-groups plan, after all."

"Nah, I actually feel more safe than before," Kokichi said, swinging his legs and kicking up some water from the pool. "No one's gonna try to kill me after Hotaru just died. Besides, I'm tougher than I look," he winked, and Tohru's lip twitched upward, as if trying to smile. It didn't reach her eyes.

"If you insist. Stay safe, Kokichi. I will see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Pencil Skirt-Chan," Kokichi teased as Tohru pulled herself out of the water, grabbed a towel, and followed Makoto inside. With no one out there now, Kokichi did notice that it was getting a little colder, out on the deck. The sun was really doing all the heavy lifting, earlier.

Goosebumps prickling at his skin, Kokichi swung his legs out of the water and grabbed a towel of his own. Rather than going inside, though, he sat down on a nearby beach chair and began drying off his legs.

Despite some weirdness today, the first death had gone off without a hitch. Of course, having a Blackened would be preferred, but honestly, Kokichi was getting just as restless as the rest of them. Tohru was acting a little funny, but everyone else seemed right on track. Hopes were rising, which he hoped to swiftly dash down with a new taste of Despair.

Legs dry, Kokichi slipped on his long boots and stood back up, brushing himself off. He placed his hands on his hips as he wandered lazily forward, taking in the surrounding night. It was calm out here, without all those rambunctious kids. The deck was dimly lit by some gentle lights lining the railings.

I still feel like I'm missing something too, Tohru, he mused to himself as he looked around. I can't help but feel disappointed that someone died. I feel like I'm letting someone down. Someone...

He stared up at the sky, at the blinking stars that looked down on him. There was no breeze. The stars, though remaining still, seemed to dance in front of him. Calling to him? Crying out...a name...

Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed.

"Kai-?"

"Kokichi Oma, it is past your bedtime!" Monokuma popped up from behind him with a furious growl. Despite himself, Kokichi flinched violently, spinning around and defensively stumbling backward. "Woah, woah, chill out! Jumpy tonight, are we?"

Recovering quickly, Kokichi sneered, but it had no energy to it. "I'm in a killing game, I'm always going to jump if someone sneaks up on me. What are you doing out here, anyway?"

"Just checking in on my favorite mastermind," Monokuma said cheekily.

"You're so sweet to think of me," Kokichi drawled, unable to keep the sarcastic sass out of his tone. "Well, since you're here, we should talk anyway," he leaned against the railing of the ship, propping his elbows up. "We need to discuss the next motive."

Despite being unable to change expressions, Monokuma looked shocked, a bead of sweat appearing on his 'forehead'. "N-Next motive?"

Kokichi raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Next motive. We need something bigger and better now, to motivate the next murder."

"N-Next murder?"

"Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?" Kokichi threw his hands up in exasperation. "Why are you acting so sketchy?!"

"Who's acting sketchy?! I've never acted sketchy in my whole life! Robot's honor!"

"Seriously, Monokuma," Kokichi went from irritated to concerned, crossing his arms over his chest. "What's the matter? Why don't you want to motivate another murder? Is something wrong with the game?"

Monokuma's 'face' was covered in sweat now, and the bear shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Something w-wrong with the game? Of course not, my ga- your game is perfect!"

"Then what's the matter?!" Kokichi exclaimed.

"Nothing, I just have no idea what to do for the next motive!" Monokuma suddenly babbled out, as if the idea has just come to him. "I'm having Captain's Block!"

"It's writer's block, and I didn't know robots could experience that," Kokichi pinched his chin. "Fine, I'll write up a few ideas, and you can add your own spins on them. We're going for flair here, Monokuma, we can't let this game get boring-"

Kokichi froze. Boring

Boring

Boring

The game is

Bor-

"Earth to mastermind? You still in there?"

Kokichi shook himself, looking back down at Monokuma, who had somehow gotten closer to him without him noticing. Kokichi took a step away, but realized how close he was to the edge of the ship when the railing dug into his shoulder blades.

"I'm here. Just tired. I'll get those ideas to you first thing tomorrow. We're moving on to the next stage," Kokichi patted the top of Monokuma's little head as he brushed past, walking swiftly back to the indoor section of the boat. He wanted to get to bed, he was tired of being out there where it felt as if the stars themselves were watching him.

The next morning, Yuki was woken up to the sound of pounding at her door. Sleepily, she rolled out of her cot and opened the door, finding Emiko, still in her silk pajamas.

"Ryo found something."

It felt far too early for big revelations, but Yuki didn't really get to decide when this kind of thing happened. So, she allowed herself to be lead down the hall by Emiko, to the game room.

"We already explored the game room, Emiko," Yuki pointed out in a sleepy mumble. They had found video games, as well as a VR headset, and a couple board games. Nothing particularly of note. It was a nice game room, considering it was on a cruise ship.

"I know we did," Ryo, not Emiko, was actually the one to answer. It seemed he had overheard them coming, and the ballet dancer poked his head out the doorway. "Come in, this is crazy."

Yuki went in to find all of the other teens already awake, some in varying states of dress. Half were still in pajamas, rubbing their eyes. The early risers, like Ryo, Makoto, and some others, were fully dressed. They all stood around the pool table, where a big book laid.

"That wasn't here last night," Yuki confirmed, eyebrows furrowing as she approached the book.

"It certainly wasn't," Ryo agreed, putting a hand on the cover. "And you'll never believe what it is."

Ryo pushed the book across the table towards Yuki, who spun it around so she could read the cover.

Hopes Peak Academy Yearbook

"What's Hopes Peak Academy?" she asked.

"Remember how none of us remember what school we went to?" Ryo asked, pointing at his temple. "I think this is the answer to that question."

"We're in there," Emiko clarified, arms crossed over her chest. She nodded down at the book. "All of us."

Yuki's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she opened the book. Sure enough, it was a high school year book, filled with headshots of different students.

"This is where I found us," Ryo flipped a couple pages in, to a particular class. "Look at this."

Sure enough, there were headshots of all of them, lined up neatly in rows. Each of them had their name underneath, as well as a more peculiar label.

"Ultimate...Murder Mystery Author?" Yuki read in a whisper.

"That's how we're all connected," Ryo said, pointing down at the book. "We were wondering why a bunch of unrelated teens got kidnapped? This is why. Because we are all students of Hopes Peak Academy."

"Not only that, but we're apparently categorized with a title called 'Ultimate'," Emiko did finger quotes. "Look, mine says Ultimate Soap Opera Actress."

"But, what does any of that mean?" Yuki asked. "I've never even heard of Hopes Peak Academy."

"You don't remember hearing about it," Ryo corrected. "None of us do."

"I don't even remember having that picture taken," Seiichi gestured to their own headshot. "But this is hard to fake. Look, all of our headshots look exactly the same."

"Someone wiped our school memories," Makoto mused, pinching his chin thoughtfully, squinting at his label as Ultimate Storyteller. "But why?"

"And why show us this now?" Kokichi asked. Yuki's eyes trailed over to his picture, which was labeled the Ultimate Fashion Designer. "If they were going to wipe our memories, why show us something that would remind us of who we are?"

"I don't know, but I don't like it," Emiko stated, arms still firmly crossed over her chest. Her stance was defensive, standing a foot away from the pool table as if the book itself was making her uncomfortable. "This feels like some sort of trap."

"Oh, it's definitely a trap," Kokichi agreed easily. Emiko glanced over at him in shock, surprised that he actually agreed with her. He was too busy leaning forward to get a closer look at his own picture. "But how? Why? A trap we can see but can't understand is even more dangerous."

"We must have gotten recruited by this school by our various talents," Yuki surmised. "Like Seiichi for their robotics skills, or Rei for her opera singing."

"Yeah, I'm not very surprised about all these 'Ultimate' titles," Rei agreed. "I just don't know how we've forgotten."

"What are we supposed to do with this information?" Kimi asked. "Now we know we were all students of some school. So what?"

"You don't think this is an attempt to motivate another death, do you?" Emiko asked, glancing at Yuki. "Monokuma seemed pretty dead set on a murder, I can't imagine he's satisfied with Hotaru's suicide."

"Maybe we should leave the yearbook be, for now," Yuki closed the book, placing her hand on the back cover. "It may be harmless, but just in case it's not, we should proceed with caution."

"Good idea, Yuki," Tohru agreed. "I'm not sure what Monokuma's motivation was, leaving this book out, but we should take every action that bear takes as a threat against our safety. Let's leave the matter for now. Should we get some breakfast at the buffet?"

"Yeah, breakfast!" Kokichi pumped his fists over his head.

"Hell yeah, I'm starving," Ryo smacked Kokichi's back before grabbing Makoto around the shoulders and steering him out of the room. One by one, eagerly or hesitantly, the teens- the students- followed them out, headed to the buffet. Emiko patted Yuki's shoulder as she passed, which made her smile. Yuki turned to go, but paused when she noticed one more student stayed behind.

Kokichi had his back to her, looking down at the book. Yuki couldn't see what kind of expression he was making.

"You okay?" Yuki asked quietly, and Kokichi flinched, startled. However, when he turned around, he had a lazy smile on his face, hands in his pockets.

"Totally. Let's get out of here."

Chapter Text

"What if we brought something back from Big Sis's first game?"

Kokichi was leaning back in his chair in the bridge, ankles crossed and resting on top of the console. The second phase of his killing game was underway. Select parts of the ship had opened up, and he had left a breadcrumb of a clue of their former lives. The yearbook, just a little something to jog their memories, just a touch. He didn't want to spoon feed them all the information at once. However, he was now stuck on a crucial part of phase two.

"An old motive? Like what?" Monokuma cocked his head, putting a curious paw to his mouth.

"I was fond of the secrets one," Kokichi mused, twirling his pencil between his fingers. "If we threaten to reveal everyone's darkest secret, that could be a good motive."

"Y-Yeah, of course."

Kokichi frowned, glancing over his shoulder at Monokuma. "Why are you still being weird? Do you have a problem with trying to motivate the next murder?"

"Of course not!" Monokuma exclaimed, rather unconvincingly. If Kokichi was good at anything, it was telling when someone was l̴͈̏y̴͐͠ͅï̷̲n̶̦̤͔̐̀g̷̘̥̗͆.

Kokichi flinched, but Monokuma didn't seem to notice, rambling on.

"I just want to make sure we take the time to form the perfect motive!"

"We gave them a hint of their memories as a reward for the first trial," Kokichi pointed out. "We've waited a couple days for them to adjust to the ship expansion. It's time for a motive. We're hitting all the steps we're supposed to."

"Very well, darkest secrets then," Monokuma conceded, sounding somewhat disappointed. "Would you like me to make something up for you? I imagine you wouldn't want 'Kokichi Oma is the Mastermind of this killing game' as your secret."

"No, change it. I have other secrets, we don't want to reveal that one too early," Kokichi pinched his chin. "I'm not done with the Despair yet, I still want more."

"I understand! Your loyal captain will whip up some good secrets for you!" Monokuma snapped into a salute, paw reaching up to meet his jaunty little captain's hat. Kokichi hummed, waving him off. The robot bounced out of the room, leaving Kokichi alone with the burning sensation under his sleeve. He scratched a little bit at the tattoo.

You want to end the-

No.

Kokichi stood up abruptly, trying to use the force of the movement to push the thought away. No, this was his killing game. And he was going to enjoy it while he could. Sure, him adding himself into the Hope's Peak Academy yearbook was fake. He never attended such a school. But to his knowledge, the rest of these teens did. He was the imposter amongst the crowd. He never got to go to school, on account of being raised by-

The sound of something loud slamming down made Kokichi jump a bit. It came from outside the captain's bridge, followed by a metallic ring. He spun around, clutching his arm, the phantom feeling of a sharp pain in his bicep lasting only a second.

Is there anything here that could have made a sound like that?

Kokichi couldn't come up with an answer, and he hated when that happened. So, he steeled his nerves and started walking slowly towards the door. Hesitantly, itchy arm extending a shaky hand, Kokichi opened the door.

There was nothing there. He looked down left, then right of the hallway. He could have sworn he heard something slam down.

"Kokichi."

Kokichi flinched again, reeling around, his arm pulsating. "Who's there?!" he snapped.

"Kokichi, please, it's K̶̥̰̥̦̈́͆̆̄͐̓ḯ̴̡̨̛̦̞̝̯̎͗̓̿̈́͘ͅi̸̧̨̪̫͎̙̥̝̇̄̎͗̎̔̂̈͒͝ḇ̷̝̠͙̥̰̬̄̀̈́͂̈̆͗̓͊̅o̶̢̨̖̹̼̘͙̠͓͑͊͌̊͗͛̚̕̕! I need you to hear me!"

No one was speaking. There wasn't anyone around, and it felt almost as if the voice was coming from inside his head. Kokichi stumbled backwards, clutching his head in an attempt to shove out the voice.

"What's going on?!"

"Kokichi! None of this is r̴̡̢̳̝͖̘̰̭͈̳̲͙̓̈́͝ẻ̶͚̤͈̟͇͇ͅă̵̜͙̰̬̱̆͆͂̊͑̀l̶̩̣͇̖̦͕͈̠̥̱͉̖̃̊̄̂̈́̌̀̍͋̓̕!"

DING DONG

"This is an official cruise announcement!"

Kokichi nearly jumped out of his skin when Monokuma's grating voice echoed over the intercom, playing throughout the ship.

"Please meet on the main ship deck! All cruisers are required to meet on the main ship deck! See you there, puhuhuhu..."

Kokichi shook his head wildly, rubbing his eyes. He was getting tired, he was getting distracted. He needed to focus! Surely that was Monokuma preparing to give the next motive. He can't be getting off track.

His killing game needed to be perfect.

Ignoring, maybe even forgetting, the voice, Kokichi made his way to the deck.

As per the Monokuma announcement, the students all gathered on the deck outside. Various conversations buzzed over each other, people were clearly cautions, but curious. What could their robotic captain want with them now?

"I have some great news, kids!" Monokuma announced. "I have your next motive!"

"Motive?" Hisoka questioned.

"You mean for another death?" Emiko asked. "You still want us to kill each other?"

"Of course, that hasn't changed!" Monokuma chuckled. "I think you guys will find this particular motive scandalous."

With that, Monokuma threw a dozen envelopes into the air. They fluttered out in the wind, somehow landing in the specific hands on their assigned students.

"What the hell?" Ryo scoffed, catching his envelope with a hesitant expression. "What is this? How is this supposed to motivate us to kill someone?"

"Why don't you open it and find out?" Monokuma taunted.

One by one, hesitantly, the kids all started opening their envelopes. Inside each was a single, folded piece of paper. The group fell silent, for just a moment, reading.

"What the hell is this?" Emiko suddenly snapped, glaring up at Monokuma, her paper crumpling in her tight fist. "How the hell did you even know about this?!"

"Oh my god!" Seiichi yelped, holding their paper close to their chest and looking around in alarm. "Where did you get this?"

"What's going on here, Monokuma?" Ryo asked, sounding more irritated than concerned.

"This is your next motive! Your deepest, darkest secrets, revealed! Yes, that's right, I know every little dark, twisted thing about you perverts, and if you don't want everyone else here to know your secret, then you'll need to survive a trial and Graduate!"

"You mean kill someone," Tohru sighed. "Monokuma, I can't imagine anyone would fall for such an easy trap such as this."

"You'd be surprised what people would kill for, Tohru," Monokuma winked at the business woman, who looked startled by the response. "Besides, some of these secrets may be more...scandalous than others. Something people wouldn't want revealed. But oh well, ultimately, it's your choice kids! I look forward to seeing what you do!" With that, Monokuma bounced out of sight.

Yuki, who had remained silent that whole time, was still reading her note.

Yuki became a murder mystery author because no one has solved her own mother's murder.

She had no idea how Monokuma knew that. It certainly wasn't something she advertised about herself. Not that it made her less trustworthy, she just...didn't like talking about it. Most people didn't even know her mother was dead, let alone that she was murdered. And that the police gave up on her case. That they never caught who did it-

Yuki flinched, realizing the paper was starting to crinkle and tear as her grip anxiously tightened on it. She quickly folded it back up and held it to her chest, against her heart.

I'm sorry you're being used against me like this, mother, she thought. But something like this would never make me kill anyone.

Yuki scanned the rest of the crowd, which seemed to be split with people anxiously muttering to each other and others going quiet, staring down at their own secrets.

"Okay, this is fine," Emiko said, loudly, catching everyone's attention. Heads whipped towards her, and she heaved a big sigh. "They're just a couple secrets. We're not going to kill each other over anything like this, right?"

"No, of course not!" Ryo was unflinching in his response.

"What concerns me is how he found out about this in the first place," Rei pointed out, rubbing her thumbs against her folded up paper. "Just how much does Monokuma know about us?"

"He probably knows more about us than we do," Kokichi pointed out with a scoff. "After all, we're clearly missing our school memories. Who knows what else he took from us."

Everyone was suddenly on edge. The comfortable aura that settled on the group after opening up the ship was gone, replaced with newfound worry. What kind of secrets did the others have? Was it something they would kill over?

"Yuki?" Emiko whispered, leaning in towards her friend. "What should we do?"

Yuki pinched her chin. "I can't imagine I'll be able to convince everyone to share their secrets with the entire group."

"What good would that do?" Ryo asked.

"If everyone knew everyone's secrets, the motive is moot," Kokichi mused, crossing his arms. "The logic makes sense. But would everyone be willing to share their secrets with everyone here?"

The group was disappointingly quiet.

"I didn't think so," Yuki sighed. "But still, there is some form of safety in sharing. If no one knows what your secret is, you may be more tempted to keep it."

"So, what are you suggesting?" Emiko asked.

Yuki thought for a moment, fiddling with her braid and tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth. "I think we need to partner up," she declared. "If we share our secrets with just one person, then that at least keeps us marginally safer. There would be no reason to try and commit murder when your partner can just reveal the secret afterwards."

"But what if someone tried to kill their partner?" Kimi asked.

"That would lead to the same issue as the buddy system," Tohru pointed out. "It would be obvious instantly who the culprit would be."

"I don't know, there are definitely some holes in this plan..." Kokichi mumbled, sounding skeptical.

"I-It's not a perfect system," Tohru said. "But if we are to be honest to just one person, it holds us a bit more responsible, doesn't it? If we didn't show someone, then the temptation to keep our secret would be higher."

"I think we can work with that," Emiko said. "If we can all agree to be honest and share our secret with one person, right?" She gave a glowering stare to the rest of the group, who all quickly nodded along.

"And it shouldn't be the people we've ended up getting close to!" Yuki added. "We shouldn't pair friends up with friends."

"Aren't we all friends?" Makoto's eyes went wide and sad at that. Yuki felt a pang of sympathy, but Kokichi was quick to override that.

"Clearly we've all separated into our little cliques! Now let her cook."

"But...she isn't cooking anything?"

Kokichi groaned and rolled his eyes. "Just go ahead, Yuki, or we'll be here all day."

"Alright, we should assign everyone's partners now, does anyone have paper?"

Unsurprisingly, Tohru did. True to her word, Yuki didn't pair any close friends together. Which meant she didn't put herself with Emiko. She also felt she had grown close with Tohru, and Ryo and Seiichi to an extent.

Yuki saved herself for last. She paired Emiko with Tatsuo, the drummer, as she never really seen them talk. Quiet Seiichi went with outspoken Hisoka. Ryo and Aaliyah, a dancer and a scientist, seemed to make for a good pairing. One by one, everyone was paired down with someone, until...

"Oh, guess that leaves you with me, huh?" Yuki looked up from her paper, eyes falling on Kokichi. The fashion designer's lips peeled back into a grin.

"Peachy."

The pairings separated across the deck, so they could discuss the secrets in peace. Yuki was surprised to see that Kokichi was obedient, going along with the plan. He settled down in a beach chair, throwing his legs up and tucking his hands behind his head, like he was resting and sunbathing on an actual cruise.

"Okay, girlfriend. Let's see it."

Yuki winced. Okay, guess I'm going first. She passed her slip of paper over to Kokichi. He held it up so it shielded his eyes from the sun, squinting at the words on the page. His expression didn't change at all, and Yuki couldn't possibly figure out what he was thinking.

"Not a very incriminating secret. You wouldn't kill over something like this?" Kokichi questioned, glancing over at her casually and waving the paper in the air. Yuki straightened.

"N-No, of course not!"

"Of course not," Kokichi's smile was patronizing.

"It's just...not something I like to talk about," Yuki took her paper back, curling in on herself awkwardly.

"It's not very cheerful, no," Kokichi agreed, still giving her a strange look at Yuki couldn't quite understand. "Something twisted about becoming a murder mystery author after your mother experienced her own."

Yuki flinched again, deciding it better to just not respond. Kokichi sighed.

"Well, for your honesty, I will reward you with my own," Kokichi passed over his paper. Yuki took it, and Kokichi immediately went back into his relaxed position, hands behind his head. Honestly, Yuki couldn't help but be extremely curious about the strange boy's secret. He was such an odd guy, one that Yuki couldn't get a read on. And now, he was passing off his deepest, darkest secret like it was nothing.

She unfolded the paper.

Kokichi Oma is an orphan.

Yuki's eyes widened. Her head lifted to look back up at Kokichi, then back down at the paper again. An orphan. Such a carefree, laize-faire guy? Could this really be true?

"Now why are you looking at me like that?" Kokichi chuckled, sparing her no more than a sideways glance. "My parents abandoned me when I was a baby. Or they died. I don't really know, they never bothered to tell me," he joked, winking over at her. Yuki's mouth opened and closed.

"Kokichi, I'm so so-"

"None of that," Kokichi waved her off. "It's really no big deal. I'm a big boy, I can handle myself."

"But still...this is your deepest secret," Yuki whispered. "This is what you have kept to yourself?"

At that, Kokichi actually turned to look at her, and stayed for longer than the few fleeting seconds he had done before. His eyes met hers, his casual expression melting away into something more serious. Then, his eyes pinched, lips lifting into a closed-mouth smile, that tinged with pain.

"Like you said. It's not something I like to talk about."

"R-Right, of course," Yuki quickly passed the paper back. "I won't tell anyone."

"Unless I commit murder," Kokichi pointed at her. "Then I expect to stick to your plan, and tell everyone."

"I would but..." Yuki trailed off for a second. "That won't happen, will it? You don't seem like the kind of guy that would kill over something like this."

"No?" Kokichi raised an eyebrow. His pained smile actually softened, turning into something a bit more amused. "I guess I can take that as a compliment."

Kimi the tennis player had been paired with Tohru the business woman. It made sense, their differences in personality and interests have made it so that they hadn't gotten very close. Kimi never had a problem with her, though. Tohru had a good head on her shoulders. And honestly, Kimi couldn't ask for a more convenient partner. Because Tohru had seemed distracted since the trial. Confused. Lost in her own thoughts, spacing out and snapping back to attention in the middle of a conversation.

Made that much easier to lie to her.

"My secret is that I am actually not a fan of tennis," Kimi made up. "I can't tell anyone though. Tennis is how I got my fame, how I make my living. It's how I support my father, who is sick, and needs help."

Tohru didn't seem to notice that Kimi wasn't showing her her paper. That was good, because her paper said something totally different.

Kimi Nakamoto is dead. Kimi, the girlfriend of star tennis player Ryoma Hoshi, was killed by the mafia years ago. The owner of this secret is actually the Ultimate Imposter.

A few days had passed after the announcement of Hotaru Saeki's death, and the layout of Kaito's living room had changed. The tv played Danganronpa constantly, but the couch had been pushed far away from the screen. A wheeled table with a computer monitor was slid next to it, displaying Kiibo's icon face. And, sitting on the ground between the couch and the screen, was a pile of seemingly random mechanical equipment.

The group had changed once again, as well. While Kaede, Shuichi, and Korekiyo, as well as Kaito's roommates were all there, Ryoma and Gonta had stopped by again as well. Still no word from the girls, Himiko, Tenko, and Angie, but they weren't expecting to hear from them.

Rantaro shuffled into the room, huffing and pushing a heavy-looking dolly full of equipment. "Where are we getting all this stuff, anyway?" he asked breathlessly, thunking the dolly into park in the middle of the room.

"That Danganronpa check really covers everything, huh?" Ryoma grumbled, holding his pet cat in his lap to keep it from crawling all over the equipment.

"Oh yeah, this will work beautifully," Miu whispered, running her hand down a sleek piece of metal.

"I don't know how you understand this, Miu," Shuichi said, holding out a piece of paper with some kind of blueprints on it. He turned it this way and that, upside down and right side up, still looking confused.

"It's how I was written, Slu-ichi," Miu winked over at him.

"Miu, rest your voice and focus on the machine, please?" Rantaro sighed. Miu grumbled, snatching up a screwdriver and crouching next to the pile of equipment, starting to sort through it.

"I'm workin' on it! Rome wasn't built in a day, y'know?"

"We appreciate all your hard work, Miu!" Gonta said earnestly, which wiped the frown off her face. Miu scoffed, rubbing her nose and looking at the wall.

"Yeah, you should appreciate me."

"I wonder how Admin got information like this anyway?" Shuichi pondered, still holding the blueprints.

"They said it was from an inside source," Rantaro pointed out. "Maybe they have someone working at Danganronpa who helps them, like Mx. Chihiro does for us."

"If they are, then I'm not sure who it is," Kiibo's icon said from his computer screen. "However, I can try to do some digging here in Danganronpa HQ. Maybe I can pick up a signal."

"We're not the only ones with resources," Ryoma mused. "I wonder Admin is someone from a past season."

"You really think so?" Gonta exclaimed. "Admin could be someone from a different killing game?"

"It's a sound theory," Shuichi said. "I can't imagine we're the only ones who have ever woken up from the simulation with a grudge."

"If they're an old participant, they should just come out and say it already!" Miu snapped, eyes on her work. "What's with all the mystery?"

"It's possible they don't want anyone to know, Miu," Rantaro said. "It's hard enough being a past participant in Danganronpa. Maybe there's safety in them staying anonymous."

"Not everyone wants to be seen," Ryoma grumbled. "I can understand that."

"Well, whoever they are, they sent some crazy prints," Miu said. "This stuff is the most complex technology I've ever seen!"

"Will you be able to replicate it?" Rantaro asked, earning a scoff and a dirty look over the shoulder from Miu.

"I'm still the Gorgeous Girl Genius, turdhead! I can build anything!"

"Turdhead?" Rantaro mumbled to himself, looking amused.

"Any update with the chat?" Shuichi asked, cueing Rantaro to pull out his phone.

"They are damn near ready to start a riot," he reported, scrolling through the anti-Danganronpa chat. "The people are unhappy. They're worried who else may die."

"Let them start a riot," Kaito said, announcing his presence as he came in from the kitchen with arms full of snacks. Miu lunged for him reverently, whispering praise as she took a snack for herself.

"We can't let them start a riot, we need to be worried about the participants' safety," Ryoma pointed out. "Don't let your anger at Danganronpa cloud your judgement. Kokichi is still in there."

Kaito sighed, leaning down and passing a snack to Ryoma as he passed by. "I know, but we need to take action. Soon."

"And what the hell is this, not taking action?" Miu scoffed, motioning to her giant pile of equipment.

"Admin has pretty much started a revolution," Rantaro pointed out. "The chat is growing in numbers by the second. More and more people are getting mad. Say what you want about the methods, it's effective. A revolution is starting."

"An anti-Danganronpa revolution," Ryoma chuckled. "How dramatic."

The group fell into a comfortable silence, munching on the variety of snacks that Kaito was handing out. Even the television was quiet, allowing the reality of the situation to set in. They were nearing something big, and they could all feel it. Maybe it was the start of a revolution. Maybe it was the other shoe about to drop. Whatever it is, it will change their lives forever.

"We need a name."

All heads in the room turned to Miu, who was now lounging across the couch with her feet up on the armrest, twirling the screwdriver in her fingers and snacking noisily.

"A name?" Kaito questioned.

"If people are really going to get into this revolution, then we need a name," Miu responded as if it were obvious. "All good revolutions have names."

"Like...the Freedom Fighters?" Shuichi asked, more as an example than a suggestion.

"That one has already been taken," Kiibo said from his computer screen.

"I wasn't actually-" Shuichi started.

"The Killing Game Coup?" Rantaro tried, cutting him off.

"The DR Revolt..." Kaito tested on his tongue, cringing as it came out.

"I like the sound of 'insurgence'," Miu stated. "Or 'mutiny'."

"Like we're pirates?" Ryoma questioned.

"Pirates aren't the only people who mutiny!" Miu exclaimed.

"Kokichi would love being called a pirate," Kaito chuckled to himself. Suddenly, something lit up in Rantaro's eyes. He sat himself up slowly, staring at the wall.

"You got one, Rantaro?" Shuichi asked.

"The 'Danganronpa Is Cancelled Ensemble'."

Everyone in the room blinked. Miu's eyebrows furrowed. "What's with the mouthful of a name? That's pretty lengthy."

Kaito suddenly barked out a laugh, and everyone turned to him. Kaito grinned knowingly over at Rantaro, eyes shining.

"D.I.C.E.," he breathed. "It's D.I.C.E."

Chapter Text

"So Kimi Nakamoto is secretly the Ultimate Imposter?" the intern Keiko asked, peering at the screen over Mx. Chihiro's shoulder.

"This can't possibly end well," Chihiro mumbled to themself, hand resting over their mouth thoughtfully. "What were they thinking?"

"Who writes these secrets, anyway? Is it Kokichi? Monokuma?" Keiko pressed.

"It's not Kokichi. He's just a figurehead. A scapegoat to blame at the end of all of this," Chihiro explained, slowly lowering their hand. "And Monokuma is an AI designed to keep the game running. The secrets were probably written by a Danganronpa writer. But there's many of them, so I couldn't tell you which."

"Maybe the reviews were poor," Keiko mused. "I think a lot of people were unhappy with the lack of execution in the first trial. So maybe the writers are desperate to keep engagement up, that's why they would bring something like the Ultimate Imposter back."

"Yeah, they haven't made an appearance since the early seasons," Chihiro agreed. "It's a sound theory, Keiko. Danganronpa's audience has been opinionated lately. The writers are pulling out all the stops."

"Can I ask you a question, Mx. Chihiro?" Keiko asked, causing a smile to tug at Chihiro's lips.

"You've been asking me questions this whole time, Keiko."

"Oh, that's right," the intern looked sheepish, but only for a moment. "You said Kokichi is only a figurehead. Were all masterminds like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like, not actually the masterminds," Keiko frowned, looking confused on how to word her question. "Past seasons of Danganronpa gave me the impression that the masterminds were in charge of the games. Was that all a lie? Were they all figureheads written into their positions, like Kokichi?"

Chihiro leaned back in their chair, hands folding to rest on top of their stomach. "Interesting question. Why are you curious about the masterminds?"

Keiko shrugged. "I've been a fan of Danganronpa for a while now. And everyone loves a good mastermind, right?"

Chihiro looked unimpressed. "Right."

"Well, to hear about the masterminds that I've been watching, to be told it was all fake," Keiko put a finger to her chin. "It just takes something away from it. Like, take Tsumugi, for example. The mastermind of the last game."

"I'm familiar," Chihiro deadpanned.

"During the finale, Tsumugi made it seem like she was an employee for the company of Danganronpa. Is that really true? Or was she just a character, like Kokichi, written to think that she was?"

Chihiro grimaced. "That one is kind of hard to explain."

"What does that mean?"

"It means yes, but it also means no," Chihiro said. "I actually knew Shirogane. And yes, she was a writer for Danganronpa. But also yes, the mastermind Tsumugi Shirogane was just a character. The Shirogane I knew was actually named Miko Shirogane. She had been a writer for a couple seasons, and was a young, promising employee. She was the first writer ever who pitched a self-insert character. A mastermind who works for Team Danganronpa. She was going for some sort of meta thing, I guess. But when she went into the simulation, it was the same as everybody else. Miko was written over, and replaced by Tsumugi, a Junko-fanatic, a cosplayer. She was different than the Miko I knew."

"The Miko you knew...was she a good person?" Keiko questioned. "I can't imagine any good person wanting to cast themselves as the mastermind."

"Miko was troubled. But who isn't?" Chihiro responded. "When you work for Danganronpa...you get roped in. A lot of people here have been working for so long, their entire lives revolve around the killing games. And because everything Danganronpa does is legal, it's hard for them to feel like the bad guys, you know?" Chihiro sighed to themself, leaning forward and resting their chin on their fist. "I wouldn't say Miko was a bad person. She was an impressionable girl, drawn in by the temptation of the world's most famous tv show. She's not the first, and she certainly won't be the last."

"I didn't realize," Keiko murmured, looking thoughtful. "Then, what happened to Miko...Tsumugi? I noticed she wasn't in the post-season special with the other cast members."

"You know, I don't actually know," Chihiro admitted. "All of the survivors were waking up at the same time as her, so our attention was split four ways. I imagine she came out as Tsumugi Shirogane, Danganronpa writer and character at the same time."

"Do you think she'll write again?"

"She's not credited for this season," Chihiro explained. "Maybe she took that participant check and retired. It's a lot of money, you know. Plenty of people join for the check alone."

Keiko hummed thoughtfully, and the two of them fell into a comfortable silence, before the intern broke it again. "Could I ask you something?"

"What is it, Keiko?"

"Why do you think it will end badly?" Keiko asked. "You said 'this can't end well' when we were talking about the Ultimate Imposter getting reintroduced. What do you mean by that?"

Chihiro's grim expression never broke away from their screen. "This is going to motivate another murder."

The Ultimate Imposter, in their short shorts and tennis racket, had a decision to make. They knew they had to keep their secret. If anyone found out that Kimi Nakamoto was really dead, they would go away to prison for life. Or worse. Sure, they hadn't been the one to kill the real Kimi, but they certainly were helping out the mafia keep up appearances.

They had gotten away with it for now, but for how much longer? Monokuma was threatening to tell their secrets to everyone. Surely they had the worst secret in the group. And Tohru may be out of it for now, but she was smart. She was going to eventually snap back and realize "Kimi" never showed her the paper.

Imposter had to do something. Their secret was looming over them like a guillotine, ready to fall at any moment. That would be the end of them.

Imposter let out a shaky breath, burying their head in their hands. They hoped it would never have to come to this.

It couldn't be Tohru. If something were to happen to Tohru, it would be too easy to trace back to them. It had to be random. Imposter sighed again, rubbing their face with exhaustion.

Monokuma's left them no choice.

It was nearing nighttime, and Tohru was alone on the deck. As the sun sets, the wind gets chillier, and most students prefer to stay inside. Tohru, however, remained outside, leaning her forearms against the railing of the deck, looking out at the darkening sea.

She hadn't felt like herself. Not since the trial.

Not since finding Hotaru's body, actually.

Tohru's hair, usually up in a bun, was left down today. She wasn't sure why she did it that way. Now, it fluttered in the wind, leaving it a matted, tangled mess. She was usually so put together.

Something wasn't adding up. She remembers leaving guard duty to Hotaru that night, she swears up and down. She can vividly remember walking back to her room.

Almost too vividly though.

Which she knows is a strange thing to say. But the memory of walking down the hallway, to her bed, it was so clear. The colors, the sounds, the feeling of the stuffy ship air. All of it. She remembers it as if it was happening to her right now. That's not how the rest of her memories are. She couldn't tell you what weapon was stacked in what certain way, she just remembers a pile. She couldn't tell you what position she was sitting in at what exact second. She couldn't tell you in perfect detail what the snack she ate that day tasted like.

But leaving Hotaru on guard duty, she remembers as if it was playing right before her eyes.

"It makes no sense," she muttered to herself.

"What doesn't?"

Tohru nearly leapt out of her skin, reeling around to find Kokichi, of all people, lounging in a pool chair.

"I didn't realize anyone was still out here," Tohru breathed, hand to her chest.

"I promise I wasn't stalking you," Kokichi smirked, hands stuffed casually into his pockets as he sat back. There was something different about him, too. The usually theatrical boy was more...subdued. His smile a little less bright.

"Is something the matter, Kokichi?" Tohru asked.

"Should I be asking you that, Little Miss Brooding?" Kokichi shifted a little bit in his chair, eyeing Tohru up and down.

"I don't know," Tohru admitted, leaning back against the railing, but staying facing Kokichi. "It's probably nothing."

"Dish, girlfriend," Kokichi encouraged, apparently not backing down. Tohru sighed, bowing her head. Her hair still flapped in the wind, brushing against the back of her neck. She was very, hyperaware of the feeling of it.

"Things have just been feeling...off. Ever since Hotaru," she said. Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed at that.

"Off? What do you mean?"

What did she mean? She herself wasn't sure what exactly she meant. Whatever she had been feeling, did she understand it enough to confess it to Kokichi?

Motivated by Tohru's silence, she heard Kokichi shift in his deck chair. She heard him rise to his feet, and the telltale sound of his heeled boots clip-clopping closer to her. When he did come into view, he leaned against the railing with her, looking out at the ocean.

"I might know what you're talking about," he admitted. Tohru looked over at him in surprise. "You feel like memories are missing? Like time itself is moving strangely?"

"Yes!" Tohru gasped, straightening up in surprise. "You feel it too?"

"Would you freak out on me if I said yes?" Kokichi asked earnestly.

"Of course not!" Tohru exclaimed. "It would actually make me feel better!"

"Oh really? How so?"

"It would make me feel like I'm not going crazy!" Tohru started to giggle, maybe a little manically. She ran her fingers through her loose hair frantically. "Like I'm not slowly going insane on this boat!"

Kokichi gave her a weird look. "You and me both, sister."

"Do you think this is because of the mastermind?" Tohru whispered. "Did they do something to us, to affect our memories? I mean, we don't even remember coming here."

"No," Kokichi sighed. "Whatever is happening to us, Tohru, I don't think it's the mastermind's doing."

"Really? What makes you think that?"

Kokichi's expression was unreadable, as he looked out at the dark ocean, barely visible waves slapping against the side of the ship. His eyebrows were furrowed deeply, his lips tugging into a subtle frown. Then, he blinked and looked back up at her, expression gone.

"Designer's hunch! Come on, it's getting chilly," he linked his elbow up with Tohru's, surprising her once again.

"Thank you for coming out and talking to me, Kokichi," she said as she let herself be lead back into the ship.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I just came outside to get a tan," Kokichi scoffed airily. Tohru's lips ticked upwards in amusement.

"At night?"

"Yep! With my fair skin, it's safer to moonbathe than actually go out in the sun," Kokichi explained. "I do not want wrinkles in my future."

"Sure," Tohru chuckled. "Well, for whatever reason you came outside, thank you for talking with me."

"Yes, yes, I'm a saint. An angel upon Earth," Kokichi drawled. "Now let's go to-"

As they turned the corner, the two of them stopped in their tracks.

They saw Kimi Nakamoto, the Ultimate Tennis Player, hovering over Tatsuo Endo, the Ultimate Drummer. Tatsuo was splayed out on the floor, Kimi holding a tennis racket guiltily. Their eyes all met.

There was a puddle of blood under Tatsuo's head.

Yuki was startled awake by screaming. She sat up abruptly in her bed, knocking over her thin blanket in the process. The screams sounded like they were coming from multiple people out in the hallway.

No, no, not again!

Yuki threw herself out of bed, scrambling to the door and stumbling out into the hallway. There was no one out there, but she could hear a commotion from a distance away. Head whipping side to side, she picked a direction and started to sprint. Maybe she should have thought to grab a buddy, rather than rush in alone, but she hadn't had the time to even think of it.

She ran down the hallway, following the sounds of frantic voices, until she finally turned a corner and found-

Kokichi.

Tohru.

Kimi.

Tatsuo.

Ding dong dong ding.

"A body has been discovered!"

What happened next happened all too fast. Yuki was evidently the third person to see Tatsuo's lifeless body, setting off the blaring body discovery announcement. Before she knew it, every one of the ship's inhabitants had gathered at yet another crime scene in the middle of the hallway. This time there was no guessing who was the Blackened.

Tohru was in a bad state. She had stumbled and fallen against the wall, curling up into a ball. Her eyes were wide and distant, seeing something no one else could see. She was muttering under her breath, frantically, manically.

"It makes no sense, it makes no sense, it makes no sense-"

Seiichi and Rei planted themselves on either side of Tohru, gently caressing her and trying to comfort her from whatever dark place she had disappeared into.

Kokichi was in a significantly less shocked state, though still clearly surprised. The normally flamboyant boy had stepped off to the side, one hand over his mouth thoughtfully. His eyes never left Tatsuo's body, no matter who spoke. Yuki hadn't heard him say a word.

"What the hell did you do, Kimi?!" Ryo was the loudest of them all, rage radiating off his body like a heatwave. Though the ballet dancer had never struck Yuki as very violent, Ryo still grabbed Kimi by the collar, holding her against a wall. Yuki couldn't really blame him.

"I'm sorry!" Kimi gasped, one hand gripping Ryo's wrist, the other holding a bloody tennis racket at her side. "I had no choice!"

"Like hell you didn't have a choice!" Ryo screamed.

"At least we don't run the risk of all of us being executed with a trial," Makoto mused to himself. "We have two witnesses."

"Way to look on the bright side of a murder scene, Makoto," Emiko rolled her eyes. Makoto sputtered.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't-!"

"That's enough out of you," Emiko scoffed, strolling up to be at Yuki's side. "Well, Yuki? What do you make of it?"

"Pretty open and shut," Yuki sighed, sounding dejected. "Blunt force trauma to the skull. And I think we all know the murder weapon," she glanced over at the tennis racket in Kimi's hand.

"I just want to understand," Emiko said, walking over to where Ryo was holding Kimi. "Why would you do something like this?"

Kimi's eyes narrowed, but her mouth clamped shut stubbornly. Ryo growled and shook her.

"Tell us, damn it!"

"It's something to do with the motive."

The first words out of Kokichi's mouth surprised everyone. They all glanced over at the fashion designer, who had removed his hand from his mouth and finally looked up from Tatsuo's corpse.

"Right? The secrets we were all given? Kimi's must have been pre-tty bad," Kokichi drawled, his old personality returning to his voice. "Who was Kimi's partner, who was supposed to share secrets?"

Kimi's eyes flickered over to Tohru, still curled in a ball on the ground. Seiichi and Rei winced with sympathy, still trying to pull the girl out from her distant state.

"What the hell were you so desperate to hide that you had to kill Tatsuo?" Ryo asked, growling, but a sound of sorrow made his voice catch in his throat, betraying his hurt.

"I'm glad you asked!" a familiar voice sang out. The teens braced themselves as Monokuma himself bounced into the hallway. "As a reward, I'll tell you the Blackened, Kimi Nakamoto's secret! After all, it would be kinda boring to execute them without a trial, so at the very least we should explain why!"

"'Them'?" Yuki whispered, instantly noting the different pronoun in Monokuma's sentence. The robot bear was already nodding, one paw at his mouth.

"Yep, yep! Kimi Nakamoto, the Ultimate Tennis Player, is not who they say they are!"

"What do you mean?" Ryo glanced over at Kimi.

"I mean, Kimi Nakamoto is actually the nameless Ultimate Imposter! The real Kimi Nakamoto died a long time ago, didn't she?" Monokuma asked 'Kimi', who bared their teeth at the robot.

"Ultimate...Imposter?" Rei muttered. "Like the Ultimate Talents we saw in that yearbook?"

"That's right. The Ultimate Imposter, able to replicate any identity flawlessly, took over Kimi's life long ago, after she was ruthlessly murdered by the mafia!"

"A tennis player was killed by the mafia?" Yuki questioned. "Why?"

"Don't question the writing!" Monokuma growled, looking furious for just a second before snapping back into his joyful attitude. "The Imposter knew that if their secret were to be revealed, there would be fatal consequences! However, in trying to avoid their fate, they simply sealed it with one, ruthless action. Poor Tatsuo! Oh well! Exec

utio

n tim

e!"

Team Danganronpa was in chaos. With no time to say 'I told you so', Chihiro and Keiko were rushing to the pod room. Tatsuo's body had already been removed from the pod, surrounded by medics trying desperately to revive him.

"What do we do about Kimi?!" one of the coders shouted over the noise.

"Pause the game! Cut to commercial! I don't care, just do not execute that kid!" Chihiro snapped, pointing and shouting orders at the coders. "Where the hell is Director Sho?!"

"I'm right here!" Sho, apparently just behind Chihiro, stormed past without a second glance. "How's Tatsuo?"

"Flatlined, we're losing him," one of the medics reported. Chihiro gripped Sho's shoulder intensely, spinning the director around to face them.

"Cut to commercial, now!" they snapped.

"You heard them," Sho, surprisingly, waved the order off to one of the other coders, whose fingers were already flying across the keyboards. "Stop this game right now."

"Stop Danganronpa?!" someone gasped.

"For now! Until we can figure out what's wrong with the code!" Sho snapped. "This season is not over, but we can't execute Kimi Nakamoto."

"Maybe we can jump to Chapter Three," someone pitched. "Implant memories of an execution in the participant's heads, make them think they went through a trial. We can't just wipe their memories again, or the audience will start getting bored. But if we convince them we executed someone when we didn't-"

"It can buy us time," Sho finished for them. "I like it. Get started."

"Wait! Sho, wait!" Chihiro stumbled after the director, barely noticing that Keiko followed them the whole time. "We can't keep this up!"

"I have my best people, you included, working on finding this bug and solving the problem," Sho sighed. "But I can't just shut down our whole operation-"

"People are really dying!" Chihiro practically screeched. "If that kid in there doesn't make it-"

"We're not executing Kimi. And we're not giving another motive, not yet," Sho said, barging forward. "We're doing the best we can."

"Your best isn't good enough!"

"God damn it, Akage, if you weren't one of our best, I would have you fired on the spot!" Sho snapped, spit flying from her lips. Chihiro stopped and finally saw the desperation in Sho's eyes. Like a wild animal backed into a corner, baring its teeth. "I need you, Chihiro," Sho admitted, grabbing Chihiro by both shoulders. "I need you to figure out this problem and save these kids' lives. I can't take them out of the simulation now. It will have unforeseen consequences. Hell, they may not survive the extraction. We're in too deep. We can't pull out now, no matter how badly you want to."

Chihiro was speechless as Sho released their shoulders, taking a step back.

"We're meeting in an hour. Have a solution for me by then."

Once again, the usual suspects had gathered in Kaito's living room. Their little group, dubbed the new D.I.C.E., consisted of Kaito, Rantaro, Miu, Kiibo, Shuichi, Kaede, Korekiyo (contributing as much as he can), Ryoma, and Gonta. Tenko, Himiko, and Angie still stayed separate from the group. And of course, Kirumi and Maki were still completely off the grid.

Miu and Kiibo were hard at work at the machine she was building smack in the middle of the living room. Everyone else contributed what they could, but at lot of it involved waiting for Miu to finish.

"The chat loves the name," Shuichi announced, on his phone, scrolling through the anti-Danganronpa group. "They say its very fitting, since Kokichi is the catalyst to ending this whole game."

Kaito chuckled, keeping himself busy by sweeping up any debris from Miu's work into a dustpan. "He would love that."

"It was reckless, going into the simulation again," Ryoma grunted. "But it's inspired people more than ever."

"And he's got us working together," Rantaro pointed out. "And Mx. Chihiro."

"How did Kokichi manage to make that connection?" Shuichi asked.

"There's a lot of stuff he wouldn't tell me," Kaito sighed, pointing his little broom in Shuichi's direction. "That was one of them."

"When that kid gets out, we need to have a serious talk about letting your teammates in on the plan," Ryoma chuckled.

"Yes, and he will get out!" Gonta encouraged, clenching both fists excitedly. "He has all of us on his side, this time!"

"Oh, Miu, are we talking too much? Is it distracting?" Shuichi asked, suddenly remembering the inventor hard at work. Miu waved him off.

"Nah, the yapping is actually helpful. Motivating," she said, and signed, at the same time, simply out of habit.

Kaede waved her hand, getting everyone's eyes on her. The news is updating about that kid's death, she signed, pointing at the tv screen. Rantaro reached over and turned the volume up.

"Another death was announced last night following Danganronpa's second murder of the season. Tatsuo Endo, the character of the Ultimate Drummer, unfortunately passed away after the efforts of Danganronpa's vast medical team. Team Danganronpa has released an official statement, condolences for the loss of both Tatsuo and Hotaru, but have not yet officially announced the exact cause of the deaths. The public is beginning to worry that there is a problem with the Danganronpa simulation, and are calling for immediate action. Team Danganronpa staged a fake execution for the Blackened Kimi Nakamoto, and are currently keeping her alive inside the simulation pod. That is all we have heard from Team Danganronpa at this time. This is Amano Minako, 321News."

"Sayin' a whole lot while sayin' nothing at all," Ryoma shook his head. "And they used my name to justify it too. Creating a character that was my old girlfriend? Why can't they just leave me alone?"

I'm not sure what Team Danganronpa was expecting, Kaede signed. Their first victim died in real life, and now the second one too. Why did they even create a motive for the second chapter?

"Gotta keep ratings up," Kaito deadpanned, unimpressed. "It's shitty."

"Well, the public is starting to hate their shittiness," Shuichi pointed out. "A lot of people have joined the D.I.C.E. chat since Tatsuo's death."

"What do we think is causing these deaths anyway?" Korekiyo asked. "Surely this isn't part of Kokichi's plan, is it?"

"No, no, it must be something else," Kaito shook his head stubbornly. "Kokichi would risk his own life day in and out, but he wouldn't risk others!"

"Wouldn't he?" Miu muttered, mostly to herself. However, the room went immediately silent, and she straightened up, eyes wide. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," Kaito said, keeping his voice calm. "You of all people can give him shit for that. Well, you and Gonta," Kaito glanced over his shoulder at the gentle giant on the couch.

"But Miu and Kokichi made up. And so did we," Gonta pointed out.

"Of course, I mean, no hard feelings!" Miu chuckled a little desperately. "I just...I don't know. It's nothing."

"He is a reckless guy," Ryoma mumbled into the top of his cat's head.

"It wasn't Kokichi! Right, Kiibo?!" Kaito reeled to the computer screen. "You're in Danganronpa's system right now! You can tell it wasn't Kokichi!"

"Mx. Chihiro and I are doing our best, but...unfortunately, we have not been able to pinpoint the cause of this glitch yet. I'm sorry, Kaito, but I don't have a good answer for you," Kiibo's icon responded dejectedly.

"No, I'm sure it's not him," Kaito insisted. "It must be a genuine glitch from Danganronpa. They're going to cause their own downfall." He looked over at the tv, where the news was playing b-roll of the last "chapter" of Danganronpa fifty four. Kaito's expression hardened. "I believe in Kokichi."

Kokichi flinched awake in his bed, eyes snapping open. For some reason, his heart was racing in his chest, and he had been gasping for air. He tried to settle into the mattress and calm his body down.

That's right. Today was the day after Kimi- or rather, the Ultimate Imposter's- execution. They had watched them get executed, and then all went back to sleep.

R̴̻̘̰̳̞̈́͑̇̉̔̿i̷̢̲͎̾̍̀̉g̵̛͈̏̌̕͝ḩ̷̗̽̑t̵͕̀́͆̍͜?̵͓̈̎́͊̀

Kokichi flinched again, this time sitting straight up in bed and throwing the blanket off of him in one smooth movement. Something was wrong, something was very wrong.

No, nothing is wrong. He can remember vividly watching the Imposter get executed. So vividly. Too vividly.

...How did that execution go again?

A noise startled Kokichi out of his thoughts, head whipping around to find the source of the noise. It was metallic, and loud, but distant. Familiar. What the hell could make a sound like that?

His arm itched.

"Kokichi?"

Another metallic clang had Kokichi scrambling off his bed, lunging for his cabin door and throwing it open. He looked frantically right, left, right, left, but there was no one in the halls. Monokuma's morning announcement hasn't gone off yet.

"What is happening to me?" Kokichi whispered, voice shaking slightly as he ran an exhausted hand down his face. The execution must have just...tired him out.

"̸̦̤̟̎͜K̴̛̘͓͖̄̌̉̚ơ̶͖͒̔͆͆k̶̯̉̀̚̕͠i̴̻͖͖̳͂c̴̲͈͕̃́̀ḩ̶̪̠͉̰̙̉̀͆̚ḯ̸̜̣̳̍!̸̩̬̙̯̉"̵̭̳̺̿͒͛̉̎

Kokichi slammed his door shut, maybe louder than he should have, and turned back to his closet, ripping clothes of the hangers. He just needed to wake up a little bit. He just needed to get the day started, and he will feel much better. He buttoned his shirt up over his chest, eyes distant.

Had he known Kimi was the Ultimate Imposter the whole time? For some reason, the answer was evading him. He must have known, right? He was the mastermind! But something felt wrong. Like it was a lazily added plot point to a...

"Ow!" Kokichi gasped as his tattoo suddenly stung under his sleeve. He gripped his forearm tightly, doubling over and trying to push back the pain. It shocked up his arm, behind his eyes, in the back of his head.

Ding dong bing bong!

"Goooood morning sailors!"

Kokichi's head perked up. The morning announcement. Monokuma was going to give them all a 'reward' for making it through the second trial. Something similar to the yearbook. Kokichi wasn't really sure what it would be. Surely it was an idea he came up with, but Kokichi was drawing a blank for some reason.

"Okay, Kokichi," he whispered to himself, snatching his white tape measure from his desk and tossing it around his neck like a scarf. "New day, new Despair to create."

He waltzed confidently out of his cabin and into the next stage of the killing game.

Chapter Text

So Kokichi is being haunted.

That was the only reasonable explanation. Kokichi considered himself a logical man. And logically, he was being fucking haunted.

Presently, Kokichi sat at the buffet with the rest of the students, eating lunch. His eyes were locked directly with the ghost, who sat at the furthest table in the restaurant, not eating anything. It was the white haired boy again, blue eyes shining like beacons across the room. He didn't move, didn't blink. Just watched Kokichi.

Which would be concerning if the ghost hadn't been doing this all day.

When Kokichi first stepped out of his cabin, the ghost watching from across the hall startled him so bad he stumbled back into the wall.

The ghost then sat far away and watched him eat breakfast.

And then it joined all of them out on the deck, standing by the railing, staring at Kokichi as he lounged by the pool. The wind seemed to have no effect on his hair at all.

The ghost was present when Monokuma appeared on deck, announcing that the ship has been expanded as a reward for getting through the trial.

And now, the ghost waits as the group eats lunch, preparing to explore the new territory.

Kokichi prided himself on his poker face. When he realized that the ghost was apparently here to stay, he schooled his expression and ignored the spectre, interacting with the other students. After all, none of them seemed to notice. So, Kokichi pretended that he didn't, either.

He took another bite of his lunch, eyes flicker back over to the ghost. He was still sitting there. All day long, the ghost had been following him, but always kept its distance, never getting any closer. Just watching.

What the hell does this thing want?

"Ok!" Ryo, as usual, was the first to finish his mountain of food, pushing his plate away and rising to his feet. "I think it's about time we start exploring the new open parts of the ship!"

"Last time Monokuma opened space up, we found that yearbook that proved we all went to Hopes Peak Academy, and that we all have something called Ultimate Talents," Emiko drawled, twirling her chopsticks in her fingers casually, leaning back in her chair. "Who knows what we'll find this time?"

"Hopefully, something that could help us escape," Seiichi mumbled, more to themself than the group. Kokichi scoffed, eyes tearing away from the ghost.

"Sure, I bet Monokuma left us some lifeboats," he said sarcastically.

"Okay, maybe nothing that straight forward," Makoto put a thoughtful finger to his chin. "But maybe there will be something we can find useful! We do have the Ultimate Roboticist here!"

"Yeah, they're really the only one here with any real useful Talent," Emiko slapped Seiichi on the back, making them jump a little bit. However, the soap opera actress had a friendly smirk on her face. "If anyone can do it, it's you."

"I-I'll try my best..." Seiichi muttered.

"Hm. Optimistic bunch," Kokichi noted, taking one last final bite of his food. "Alrighty then!" he stood up, pressing his hands to the table. "Let's go explore the super fun murder ship!" In his peripheral vision, Kokichi could see that the ghost had risen to his feet as well.

"We should split up into two groups," Yuki said. "The two spots he opened up were the upper deck, and something further inside the ship. We'll split up and see if we find anything of note."

Kokichi ended up in the group staying inside the ship, while the rest of the students went up the stairs to explore the upper deck. The inside part, turns out, was a multi-purpose gymnasium. There was a basketball court and an indoor track. The group had a sobering moment of realizing Hotaru would have loved this space. Kokichi noticed that the ghost had followed him here as well, watching from underneath the distant basketball hoop.

"Well, this is nice!" Ryo was the one to break the silence yet again, hands firmly on his hips.

"Yeah, I'm not huge on exercise, but it does feel like we have significantly more elbow room than we did before," Aaliyah agreed. "Now we're all bound to be a lot less stir crazy."

"Are you kidding, this place is great! Keiji, maybe you can show off some of your stunts in here?" Ryo asked the ever-silent Keiji, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. The stunt man, on the other hand, remained stoic, but still nodded at the suggestion.

"Yeahhh, I don't like to participate in activities that cause sweat, but you kids go have fun!" Kokichi grinned cheekily. His eyes flickered to the ghost again, wishing there was a way he could slam-dunk a basketball into that thing's head.

"We should play some basketball in here!" Ryo exclaimed, finding a bag full of balls. He gripped the basketball firmly with both hands. "It will be a great way to bond and get along!"

"Do you even know how to play basketball?" Aaliyah asked, amused.

"Nope!" Ryo's answer was immediate. "And I bet I'd actually be pretty bad at it. But it could still be fun! Catch!"

Aaliyah grunted as Ryo clumsily threw the basketball in her direction. She caught it against her chest. "Ryo, I'm a scientist, not an athlete. I won't be much of a challenge," as she said it, she casually tossed the ball to Hisoka, the influencer, who yelped in surprise and just nearly missed catching it.

"Hey, warn a girl!"

"We don't need to be good!" Ryo exclaimed.

"Good, because you aren't really," Kokichi chuckled mockingly.

"I wonder what everyone else found outside," Hisoka mused.

The rest of the students discovered a volleyball court, shuffleboard, and an unmanned smoothie bar on the upper deck.

"Oh my gosh, look at all the options!" Rei exclaimed, looking up at the smoothie bar menu.

"Sure, but it looks like we may have to make it ourselves?" Emiko questioned, looking around. "There's no one here to work the smoothie bar."

With a quirky little sound, Monokuma burst up from behind the smoothie bar. "If you want your dear old captain to put on his bartending hat, I can make you whatever smoothies you want!"

Rei winced, stepping backwards away from the smoothie bar. "Suddenly, I don't want anything."

"Seriously, just leave us alone," Emiko rolled her eyes. Monokuma giggled as he disappeared again. "Honestly. I would rather make my own anyway. And I hate making my own food."

"Seichii, do you have any idea how to play shuffleboard?" Yuki asked as they walked on the upper deck.

"Truthfully, no. Do you?"

"Not really. I think I can figure it out, but I've never actually played before," Yuki picked up a shuffleboard puck and weighed it in her hand. It was heavy, and dense, but probably not very dangerous. She disregarded it for now. Nothing up here seemed like it could be used as a murder weapon, so that's good.

"Say what you want, but it's a pretty amazing view," Makoto admitted, leaning against the railing. From the upper deck, they had a nearly 360 degree view of the ocean. Yuki looked up to see what he was talking about. The water sparkled under the yellow sun, looking like a sea of glitter. The waves were energetic today, ripples of white caps as far as the eye could see. "Makes you feel kind of small, huh?" Makoto muttered.

"I bet the view is beautiful at night," Emiko said. "Sure, the ocean will be all dark, but I bet that sky is unbeatable," she glanced up at the currently bright blue sky.

"We should have everyone come watch the sunset tonight!" Makoto exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "I bet that would lift everyone's spirits!"

"That's not a bad idea, Makoto," Rei agreed.

"It seems there's not much more to find out here," Yuki said, giving the volleyball net a curious tug. "Why don't we head back inside, see if whatever 'reward' Monokuma made for us is waiting in there?"

When both groups met up again, neither of them could figure out any clue from either of the two new locations. Without any other option, they split up for free time.

There is no solution.

Sho pinched her chin, staring down at the screen with carefully masked irritation. She merely looked annoyed at the rather alarming news. She was in a room with all of Danganronpa's best employees. Coders, medics, lawyers. They've scanned every trace of the game's coding. Wherever this glitch was, it was hidden too well for them to find. If they can't find it, they can't fix it. They risk more kids dying, if they die in-game.

"We need the kids to graduate the program," she finally said, everyone perking up as her voice sliced through the silence, even in it is calm tone.

"But, how?" an employee asked. "We still have so many characters left. The only way to leave the program, besides the trials-"

"-is ending the killing game," Sho finished for them, a grimness in her tone that wasn't betrayed by her expression. "We need a finale. Now."

"Finale?!" another employee exclaimed, rising from their chair. "This early? We promised the public a full season!"

"And we promised these kids a life after Danganronpa," Sho said, barely sparing the employee a second glance. "If we want to get out of this with as many kids alive as possible, we need to bring this season to a conclusion."

"This is the season with two returning characters," someone pointed out. "It's the long awaited return of Makoto! Ending it now...no matter what we come up with, it won't be satisfying."

"Does satisfying really matter, at this point?!" Mx. Chihiro snapped, glaring them down. "We should have done this after Hotaru's passing. Why are we still caring more about the viewership than the lives of these kids?!"

"Because they signed a contract, Mx. Chihiro," the employee snapped right back. "That signature means that they can't always be the priority."

"You can't be serious!" Mx. Chihiro exclaimed, reeling back towards Sho. "Director Sho!"

"I'm getting the writers started on a finale," Director Sho ignored both of them, her word as law. "It will take a second. In the meantime, keep the kids busy, but do not let another killing game happen. You can throw in some Easter eggs to keep the viewers happy. Maybe throw in some suspense. But no true motives until my writers are done. Am I understood?"

The room was a chorus of "Yes, Director Sho."

A new video game had been added to the game room.

Yuki, Emiko, and Seiichi all stood in front of the retro-style machine, each with varying degrees of concern painted across their faces. Emiko planted her fists on her hips, looking, at most, irritated. Seiichi, however, was downright terrified.

"W-Why did Monokuma add a game in here?" they asked. "Last time, with the yearbook, it was a clue about our missing memories."

"I'll bet money that this thing is another clue, too," Emiko said, sounding unimpressed. The machine was big and gaudy, with a green logo on top. Over the green design was a choppy red picture, that looked eerily like Monokuma's one red eye.

"Do we play it?" Seiichi asked, their head flicking between Emiko and Yuki. Emiko glanced over at Yuki, raising an expectant eyebrow.

Yuki, knowing they were waiting for an answer, instead stepped up and put one hand on the control. The screen buzzed to life, a logo sliding across the screen.

Killing Harmony!

"That's comforting," Emiko mumbled sarcastically. Yuki shrugged, and pressed start.

Please type your name.

Yuki toggled the control, spelling out Y-U-K-I.

Please design your avatar.

A grey, shapeless human appeared on screen, next to a bunch of hair and outfit options. Emiko perked up at that.

"Ooh, fun! Yuki, pick the blue hair! No, no, the cute little red bob. No, wait," Emiko pointed out a long, strawberry-blonde hairstyle. "That one. It's like mine!"

When Yuki selected the strawberry blonde, it added a cute, steampunk-style pink outfit to the avatar. It had a short skirt, and goggles perched on top of its head.

You have selected the Ultimate Inventor track.

"Ultimate Inventor?" Seiichi mused. "Sounds like our Talents. I wonder if these characters are based off of other people like us."

Goal 1: Fix the Robot

The screen showed a pixelated workshop, with a robotic-looking avatar in the center. Yuki maneuvered her little inventor over to the robot, picking up the designated tools along the way.

"Maybe this has something to do with you, Hano?" Emiko guessed. "You are the Ultimate Roboticist."

"But the avatar looks nothing like me," Seiichi, notably, had a very grey appearance, contrasting to the hot pink outfit of the avatar.

A little celebration sound rang out, and confetti rained down on screen. Goal 1: Success!

"Oh, I guess I did it," Yuki said, as the screen changed to a snowy rooftop.

Goal 2: Hit villain with hammer.

"Is that the villain?" Emiko asked, pointing at a cute little avatar standing on the rooftop. "Not to be that way but...it kinda looks like Kokichi, doesn't it?"

"Huh, yeah. Weird," Yuki mumbled. "Guess I just have to hit this guy with my hammer? He's not even looking at me, this feels unfair."

"It's a game, there's probably a catch," Seiichi pointed out.

Yuki maneuvered her avatar over to the villain, and pressed the big red button. The little avatar swung a comically sized hammer at the villain's head, but the villain didn't move. "Huh, weird," Yuki mumbled, milliseconds before a third avatar came on the screen.

"Woah!" Emiko gasped as a giant avatar jumped out and wrapped something around Yuki's avatar's throat. Yuki started pressing buttons at random, her little avatar writhing under the other's grasp.

"I can't get out!" Yuki exclaimed, wiggling the joystick frantically. Her avatar's movements slowed, and the screen faded to black.

Game Over. You Lost.

"Damn, that shit felt rigged," Emiko planted her fists on her hips, glaring at the video game. Yuki pulled her hands away.

"Perhaps its for the best," she admitted. "Knowing Monokuma, the prize for winning is probably-"

"-something super dark and creepy?" Seiichi guessed.

"A motive," Yuki finished. "Best leave this game alone, for now. Let's warn the others to do the same, okay?"

Later that night, Kokichi couldn't sleep. Probably because of the blue glow of the ghost's eyes, watching him from across his cabin. Kokichi wouldn't give the ghost the satisfaction of being visibly scared. He prided himself on his acting skills, and his poker face was top notch. But, after all day of pretending he didn't see the ghost, his mask was starting to crack. Fear gave way to a new feeling. Irritation. Eventually, he sat back up in bed, glaring across the room.

"If you're gonna say something, just say it," he grumbled, groggy and sleep deprived.

The ghost said nothing back. It almost looked...sad, disappointed. Like it couldn't respond, even if it wanted to.

"Fuck this," Kokichi threw his blanket off aggressively, getting out of bed and sneaking out of his cabin. He knew wherever he went, the ghost would follow, so he went to the most entertaining room he could think of.

The game room.

"Right, this thing," Kokichi mumbled, running a hand down the new game machine. Yuki had told the whole group about it. Warned them, really. She thought it was Monokuma's next clue, but couldn't figure it out for herself.

He pressed the button, and the screen came to life.

Killing Harmony!

b͔̳ͨ̀ͮ̎a̸̛̺̞̤̘̔́ͤͫ̎̓ͬͦ͋c̴̷̴̶̴̶̡̹̯̳̮̮̠̜̟͕̣̀ͨͦ͊̑ͤͦͪ͒̍̈̀̒ͮͣ͂͘͢͢k̴̛̭̘͇̻̞͕͔̝̜̭̬ͮ͊̾̒̓̍ͩ̑̇ͭ̃͑ͪ̂ͧ͌̇̓́́̚̕͘͡͞͞ͅd̴̜̳͕̳ͣ̐́ͭ͜o̸̴̘̹̣̫͉̿̃̂͂̒ͥ̂̈́͋͌̔́̒o̡̡͙͙͎̮ͥ̈̆ͩ͑ͩ̄͆ͭͦͅṟ̷̨̪̠͙̲̣̣͇̫̞̆͋̓͑͆̐͢͡.v̨̲̳͓̞͔̓̈́3̛̮̔̋͗͒̊̈́͜͝

Kokichi's tattoo itched. He ignored it, instead typing in a shortened version of his name. K-I-C-H.

Please design your avatar.

Kokichi studied the different outfits and hairstyles presented to him. His eyebrows furrowed when he saw a hairstyle eerily similar to his. Were these characters supposed to be based off them? That was strange, considering no one else on this ship seemed to be represented here.

Just him.

Well, that made the choice easy.

He selected his hairstyle, and a gaudy, all-white outfit appeared, though it was somewhat different than his own.

You have selected the Ultimate Supreme Leader track.

b͔̳ͨ̀ͮ̎a̸̛̺̞̤̘̔́ͤͫ̎̓ͬͦ͋c̴̷̴̶̴̶̡̹̯̳̮̮̠̜̟͕̣̀ͨͦ͊̑ͤͦͪ͒̍̈̀̒ͮͣ͂͘͢͢k̴̛̭̘͇̻̞͕͔̝̜̭̬ͮ͊̾̒̓̍ͩ̑̇ͭ̃͑ͪ̂ͧ͌̇̓́́̚̕͘͡͞͞ͅd̴̜̳͕̳ͣ̐́ͭ͜o̸̴̘̹̣̫͉̿̃̂͂̒ͥ̂̈́͋͌̔́̒o̡̡͙͙͎̮ͥ̈̆ͩ͑ͩ̄͆ͭͦͅṟ̷̨̪̠͙̲̣̣͇̫̞̆͋̓͑͆̐͢͡.v̨̲̳͓̞͔̓̈́3̛̮̔̋͗͒̊̈́͜͝

Kokichi flinched. Ultimate Supreme Leader? ...What a stupid Talent.

"Jeez, how cringey," he mumbled to himself, pressing 'start'.

Goal 1: End the killing game.

You want to end the killing game.

Kokichi reeled back, his hands flying off the controls as if they had been burned. The wording was just like his mysterious tattoo, which was now throbbing and stinging under his sleeve.

"What the hell?" he whispered. Did Monokuma really build something like this? How was this supposed to motivate anyone? What was the purpose behind this game? And why did it only appear when-

Kokichi spun around wildly, glaring accusingly at the ghost, standing behind him in the doorway. He wasn't at all surprised to see it. "Did you do this?!" he snapped, pointing up at the video game. "What the hell is going on here?"

Unsurprisingly, the ghost did not respond. Kokichi snarled and turned back around, determinedly grabbing the controls.

"Fine, want me to end the killing game? I'll end the killing game right now, you stupid thing," he growled at the screen, moving his little avatar around the room. It was some kind of sci-fi room, with a hydraulic press, and stairs leading up to controls. There was another avatar in there with him. He moved his avatar closer, and tried to talk to it.

Goal 2: Don't die.

"Don't what?" Kokichi managed to gasp before the other avatar whipped out a crossbow and shot his little guy in the arm. "Jeez!" he flinched, pulling the handle back and making his avatar stumble backwards. "Now they're shooting at me? What is this supposed to show me?"

b͔̳ͨ̀ͮ̎a̸̛̺̞̤̘̔́ͤͫ̎̓ͬͦ͋c̴̷̴̶̴̶̡̹̯̳̮̮̠̜̟͕̣̀ͨͦ͊̑ͤͦͪ͒̍̈̀̒ͮͣ͂͘͢͢k̴̛̭̘͇̻̞͕͔̝̜̭̬ͮ͊̾̒̓̍ͩ̑̇ͭ̃͑ͪ̂ͧ͌̇̓́́̚̕͘͡͞͞ͅd̴̜̳͕̳ͣ̐́ͭ͜o̸̴̘̹̣̫͉̿̃̂͂̒ͥ̂̈́͋͌̔́̒o̡̡͙͙͎̮ͥ̈̆ͩ͑ͩ̄͆ͭͦͅṟ̷̨̪̠͙̲̣̣͇̫̞̆͋̓͑͆̐͢͡.v̨̲̳͓̞͔̓̈́3̛̮̔̋͗͒̊̈́͜͝

K̸̻̜̲̼̬̜̓̏̽͝ö̵̧̨̭̲̣͓̩̹̹̝͖̙̣̹̪̹͕̍̀̇̍̌̄̅̚k̷̛̺̗̥̣͎͓̱͉̭͚̟̖̜͕̿͗͛̂̓͆͐͆̒̽̚ͅǐ̴̬͓̗̘̄́͐͊c̴̢̢̡̟̟͖̰͉͇̞̜̜̲̫̦̭̭͆̓͒̃́͝h̵̡̢̳̥̞̥̋̋̑͛̔́̇͗͗̈́̈̉̄̃͗̚̕į̴͍̝̯̮̋͊̏̎͒̿͐̏̿͌͌̀́̄͠͝,̸̨̢̢̜̲̘̯̯̥̯̝̗̫̯̥̿̃͐̎̋͂̎̄̽͠ ̴̨̢̥̞̯̙̺͎̱̗̳̹̱̱̘̣̓͒̆̍̊̌̎͋͊̃̚͠͝ç̶̧̥̼̺̞̥̙͈͈̫͔͓̿͌́̔͐͐̓̽̅͝a̴̘̰͍̗̱̍̍̒̾̈̓̏̋͊̅͗́̐̚͠͝n̶̮͗̈́̑̑̓̀̈́͑͛̕̚ ̴̢̥̤͇̖̞̥͊̃̾͑̀͜y̸̟̖̞̝͛͛̊̍o̵̧̢̡̲͕̺̖͔̣͚̲̺͇͖̦̊̋̽̆͊̓͂ͅͅư̷͚̥̖̔̔̍̓̃̾̔̊̇͘͠ ̶͈̩̦̫̳̰͖̖̥͚̥̪̿̌̇̂͂͗̈́̈̈́̃̊̈͂̏̓̕ͅẖ̷̼̝̄̋̾̍͘͝e̷͇͔̠̣͉̲͖̲̖̺͆̄̓̓̀͗͛͜͜͝a̸̡͈̟̻̥̖̘̖͈͌̅̏͐͘͝r̴͇͉̬͖̬̥̀̈͝ ̴̡͍͕͎̯̅̒͐̃̽͑̄̉͌͛͛̏m̴̢̨̧̛̤͉̜̖͔̰̺̤̣͐̃̋̈́͆̊̓̇̽̋̓͆̋̕͝e̴̯̎̅̊́͐̄͜?̴͉̝̣̳͈͚͈͇̬̱͉͉̞̯̜͛̉̾͊̈́̀̆̚͠ͅ

Kokichi watched helplessly as a third avatar came bursting into the h̶a̶n̶g̶a̶r̶ and shot another crossbow, hitting both him and the second avatar. Kokichi tried to manuever away, but his tattoo was stinging aggressively now, under his sleeve. He blinked rapidly, trying to take control of the game, but things were quickly spiraling out of control. He grit his teeth, pulling the handle around and trying to make his avatar run away.

Then, letters scrolled across the screen.

Kokichi, can you hear me?

Kokichi froze in horror, hands hovering just over the controls. His breath caught in his throat, blood rushing and thundering in his ears.

What.

The fuck.

Slowly, shakily, Kokichi looked over his shoulder. The ghost was close now, too close, standing right behind him. Kokichi flinched, hard, slamming backwards into the video game and making it rock.

"What do you want?!" Kokichi gasped, hands clinging to the machine behind him and leaning as far away from the ghost as he could. "Who are you?"

The ghost did nothing, but its eyes did move. They flickered from Kokichi's face, to the video game behind him. Eyebrows furrowed, Kokichi followed its gaze, back to the screen. More letters were scrolling across the screen.

I am here to help. My name is  K̷̡̧̨̧̧̧̧̢̡̭̰͔̟̺̭̭̯̝̯̹̰͕̙̜̤̭͇̖̳̳͍̳̟̙̲̰̭͈̯͇͙̺͖͖͕̩͚̘̙̯̞͍̞̗̱̫͉͙̙̱̙͚̺̜̮̳̻͉̻̺͖̮̱̝̳̰̲̻̻̫͍͎̞͚̘͖͚̯͎͕͎̱̦̘̬͔̼͎̮͚̝̞̥̼͙͍͈̙͖͇̥̩̞̐͛̍͌̆́̊͗͂̇͆͊̂͐͛́̑̐͗̑͂͐̄͊̎̈́̅̒̽͋̽̚͘͜͜͝͠͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅi̶̢̨̧̢̢̦̟͇̖̝͔̠̙̪̱̻̭̻̱̻͕̦͉̺̹͈͍̟͇͉͕͙̣͙̰͚̗̗̪̼͓̦̰̦͈̟̱̮̮̗̙̜͖͓͕͔̜̮͖̣̩̖̪͎͕̪͕̣̯̗͐̄̑̐͛̊̅͐͜͜͜͝ͅi̵̢̨̨̨̨̗̻̗̺͎̙̼̭̣̙̯̩͎̭͕͚̩͓̤̦͓̯̬̝̲̥͖̫͇̥̯̟̠͍̻͍̗͔̙͙̤̥̰̩̹̯̠͕͈̰̠̗̹̤̱̟͓̭̰̤̹̥̪̲͉̯̯̩̮̗͍̖͓̠̤̻̣͎͇̖̳̫̳̜̭̣͖̦̒̄̎̈́̉͜͜͜͜͝ͅͅḃ̶̻̘͍̬̻̤͎̲̫͔̙̺͓̙͖͇͂͂̋̓͛́̃̀̎̋̓̒̋̀̈̔̋͋͒̒̍́͂̉͌̈̓͗̄́̌̂̊̿̕̕͜͠ǫ̷̡̡̛̞̜̤̩̯̖͖͇̯͙̖̤͎̦̩̦̘̰̤͈͙̥͙̦̩̮̫̜̬̝̖̬͈͎̟̳̖̣͔̙̳͉̣̪͈͖̥͎͙̝̳̤̬͗̅̄̿̍̂̅̋̽̎̈͗̂̓̓̒̅̓̚͜ͅ.

The letters suddenly started glitching, flashing bright blue lights into Kokichi's eyes. He winced, covering his eyes with his forearm and bowing away from the screen.

"This game isn't Monokuma's, is it?" Kokichi asked, refusing to look at either the ghost or the game. Everything was too bright, too blue, too confusing, too...scary. "It's yours."

If the ghost answered, Kokichi didn't bother to look up to read it.

"Kokichi?"

The voice didn't come from the ghost, or the video game. It came from behind him. He flinched, probably too dramatically, reeling around.

Makoto was standing in the doorway of the game room.

"Are you alright?"

Kokichi blinked, looking back at the ghost. Of course, it had disappeared. Kokichi looked over his shoulder at the game. The screen had conveniently gone back to normal. Kokichi turned and looked Makoto in the eyes.

"Huh."

Makoto's eyebrows furrowed. "Um... is everything alright?" he asked, eyes flickering over to the video game. "You seem kinda...scared."

Kokichi blinked. A shiver went up his spine. He swallowed. He smiled. "Nope, all good!"

"Why are you over here, so late at night?" Makoto asked. "Yuki told us we shouldn't go near the machine."

"Who said I was playing the game?" Kokichi responded with a casual shrug. "And what are you doing up so late at night, my dear Makoto? Off to do some nefarious deeds?"

"No?" Makoto looked genuinely confused, but not offended by the accusation. "I heard someone walking around outside the hall. Which, I'm guessing was you," he motioned to Kokichi. "Were you going to try and play the game?"

"I-" Kokichi started to deny it, but was shocked when Makoto continued over him.

"Because if you were, I want to, as well."

Kokichi's jaw clamped shut. Well, he wasn't expecting that.

"I-It's not like I want another motive for murder!" Makoto exclaimed, wringing his hands together. "But last time someone died, we found the yearbook, which gave us a better idea of our identities and lost memories. I was thinking, if it's the same case with the game, then maybe we should play it, you know? The more memories we can recover, the better chance of us figuring out how to escape. At least, that's what I think."

Actually, it wasn't an entirely stupid idea. Assuming Monokuma did have something to do with the game. Kokichi pinched his chin and took one, smooth step to the side, opening a direct path for Makoto to approach the video game machine.

"Then by all means, have at it," he drawled.

Makoto looked surprised that Kokichi gave in so quickly. The boy shrugged and walked up to the game, pressing the start button. He entered his name, M-A-K-O, and made it to the character design screen.

"Oh, such an old-fashioned game like this, I didn't think it would have character design options," Makoto mumbled. "Who should I play as?"

Kokichi didn't want Makoto to notice the strange similarities between him and the Ultimate Supreme Leader character. "How about this one? Looks interesting enough," he pointed to a unique, blue-haired blue-uniformed design, picking quickly to avoid suspicion. Makoto agreed easily, selecting that design.

You have selected the Ultimate Detective track.

"Oh, neat!" Makoto exclaimed. "The characters have Talents, like us!"

"Yeah. Weird," Kokichi mumbled.

Goal 1: Point out the mastermind.

"Mastermind?" Makoto questioned. "Are the characters in a killing game too?"

"Must be, with a name like Killing Harmony," Kokichi agreed. "Which one do you think is the mastermind?"

Makoto flipped through the options on screen. Ultimate Mage. Ultimate Robot. Ultimate Assassin. Ultimate Cosplayer.

"Gotta be the Ultimate Assassin, right?" Makoto guessed. "Only an assassin would come up with such a twisted game."

"No, no, hold on," Kokichi raised a finger. "It's too easy. Too obvious."

"Oh, I guess you're right," Makoto wilted. "Who do you think, then?"

b̴̞͖̋a̵̘͐͊̓̚c̶̜̯̞̅͆̿̉ͅk̸̫̆͂̈́d̶̛̲̥̒͘ỏ̷̯̭ȯ̸̯̅ŗ̵̳͎͓̀̐̒͝.̴̡̻͈̭̅̊̕͝v̴̡͛3̸͔̓

"Try the Ultimate Cosplayer," Kokichi guessed on a whim. "That Talent feels out of place, compared to the others."

"Really?" Makoto didn't sound too sure. "Alright then." He selected the blue-haired Ultimate Cosplayer.

Goal 1: Success!

"Oh, you got it right!" Makoto grinned. "Nice job, Kokichi."

Goal 2: Do not play the game.

Makoto quickly let go of the controls as the screen switched to a minigame, with balls of letters bouncing around. "Don't play the game?" he asked. "What a weird goal."

The screen switched to a different minigame, and Makoto's fingers twitched. Kokichi grabbed him by the wrist.

"Don't," he said. "It said not to play, so don't play."

The two boys watched as the screen cycled through several minigames. After a while of just that, the screen cleared.

Goal 2: Success!

"This game is kind of easy, huh?" Makoto muttered.

"Yeah," Kokichi frowned, remembering how different the Ultimate Supreme Leader Track was.

Goal 3: Escape before the school collapses.

The pixelated screen started to shake, as if in an earthquake. Pieces of concrete rained down from above, and Makoto had to move the joystick to get his character to run away, jumping over fallen debris and side-scrolling to the finish line.

"Here we go, now it's feeling like a video game!" Makoto exclaimed, leaning his torso from side to side as he dodged, as if that would help at all. Kokichi's frown stayed put.

The Ultimate Detective crossed the finish line.

You Win!

Makoto grinned as confetti rained down on screen. "Cool, I won!"

"Great, but weren't we supposed to find a clue?" Kokichi reminded him, and Makoto wilted.

"Oh, right."

Claim your prize!

A little compartment opened underneath the game controls. Both Makoto and Kokichi leaned down to look inside, expecting some sort of plastic toy or stuffed animal.

Instead, a puff of green smoke burst in their faces.

The two boys reeled back, coughing and waving their arms.

"What kind of prize was that?!" Makoto exclaimed, hacking and wheezing. Kokichi tried to stop coughing, looking up at the screen.

"I have no idea."

Mx. Chihiro and Keiko watched as Makoto and Kokichi got sprayed with green smoke from the machine. Keiko's eyes widened, though she didn't say anything. Chihiro put a hand over their mouth and leaned forward, watching thoughtfully, intensely.

It seems Director Sho's early finale was going to be a bit more dangerous than they'd hoped.

Chapter Text

When Yuki woke up, she already had a bad feeling. Maybe writer's intuition, who knows. Every day is a bad day on this god forsaken ship. She shouldn't be surprised. She sat up, rubbed her face sleepily, and lazily climbed out of bed. Using world's smallest mirror ever, she carefully braided her long crimson hair, tossing it over her shoulder and brushing her bangs back. She looked exhausted. She felt exhausted. Whatever was going to happen today, she had a feeling it wouldn't be good.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she opened her door to find a body laying face-down outside her room.

Snapping to attention, Yuki gasped and lunged to the floor, kneeling beside the body. Her fingers pressed against their neck, and she sighed with relief when she easily found a pulse. Irregular, sure, and concerningly pumping very hard, but still alive. She grabbed their shoulder and rolled them over so they were laying on their side.

"Kokichi?" she whispered gently, noticing his slack, unconscious expression. She brushed a strand of purple hair out of his sweaty face, placing the back of her hand on his forehead. He was burning up. Of course. People can still get sick, even in a killing game.

"Kokichi," Yuki tried again, shaking him a little. "You need to wake up, you can't sleep on the ground."

Kokichi's eyelids fluttered. "I like sleeping on the ground..." he mumbled, words slurring. "I've never done it before, ever..."

Yuki's eyebrows furrowed. Two very confusing statements. But, judging by Kokichi's barely conscious state, she wasn't going to get anything helpful out of him. With a friendly pat on the boy's shoulder, Yuki stood up and knocked on Emiko's door.

The starlet opened her door immediately, though she was still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "Yuki? Everything alright?" she asked through a yawn.

"It's Kokichi," Yuki motioned down to the floor. "He's alive, but I think he's really sick. Could you help me get him back to his room?"

"Oh jeez," Emiko, looking a bit more awake now, planted her fists on her hips and looked down at Kokichi like a disappointed parent. "Why is it always something with you?" she asked the sleeping boy, clearly not expecting an answer. "Alright, up you go," she knelt behind him and slipped her arms under his armpits. Kokichi's head rolled limply on his neck. Yuki tried to help by grabbing underneath his knees. The two girls grunted, lifting up the small boy, but struggling since he seems to have gone completely boneless. Emiko sighed exasperatedly, already having struggled to stand with him rolling around in her arms. "We're never going to get to the boy's hallway this way, let's just lay him in my room for now."

Yuki couldn't argue, as that plan made total sense. With great effort, the two of them hoisted Kokichi into Emiko's bed. "I'll go get some water from the grab and go," Emiko said. "If I see anyone else, I'll let them know what's going on. But we may want to be careful. We're so close on this ship, who knows if what he has is contagious."

Yuki nodded, appreciative as Emiko walked off, seeming to be in no rush. With no better ideas, Yuki decided to run a cloth under some cold water. She sat down in a chair beside Emiko's bed and laid the cloth across Kokichi's forehead.

"I'm not sure what's going on with you," she admitted. "I supposed you could just have come down with a bad illness. But this seems too convenient. Is this some kind of motive? And if so, how is it supposed to work?" Yuki leaned in closer. "What happened to you, Kokichi?"

Even though his eyes remained closed, the fashion designer stirred, face pinching. "I...love...video games... I never play them..."

Yuki blinked. Another strange statement. First, the stuff about sleeping on the floor, and now video games? "You're not making much sense, you know," she stated, adjusting the cloth on his head so it didn't slip down over his eye. Video games...

A knock at Emiko's door, snapped Yuki out of her thoughts. She turned around to find the ballet dancer at the door, looking concerned.

"Emiko said I'd find you here. Ran into her during my morning workout," Ryo said grimly. His eyes flickered to Kokichi in the bed. "Him too, huh?"

"What do you mean, 'too'?" Yuki sat up in her chair, eyebrows furrowing.

"I found Makoto in a similar state," he explained. "We usually work out together. But he was barely conscious, and had a high fever. I thought he may have just come down with some nasty cold, and got him tucked in his bed, but..." Ryo crossed his arms over his chest. "If Kokichi is this sick too, and so suddenly-"

"Yeah," Yuki agreed before he could finish his line of thinking. "This may be caused by Monokuma."

"Shit," Ryo hissed. "You don't think...you don't think it's anything deadly, do you? I mean, if Monokuma's behind this sickness, then..."

"I can't say for certain," Yuki pinched her chin. "Though it wouldn't be a very good motive if it was. If Monokuma wants to have an exciting killing game where we all kill each other, then why would he make some disease to just kill us off? It sounds kinda..."

"Exciting..." Kokichi's hoarse voice hissed from Emiko's bed. Both Yuki and Ryo's heads snapped towards him in surprise.

"No," Yuki disagreed. "It would be boring."

At the word 'boring', Kokichi's eyes snapped open. Not a flutter of the eyelids, like before. He was alert, for a millisecond, staring up at the ceiling. Yuki tensed, but before anything else could happen, Kokichi's gaze faded, and his eyes slowly shut again.

Boring, huh?

"Ryo, Kokichi said something about a video game," Yuki said, turning back to the ballet dancer. "He was murmuring in his sleep, and it didn't make a ton of sense. But I wonder if he was trying to tell me something. Remember, Monokuma added a new video game to the game room yesterday. I need you to go check it out. Bring a partner, maybe two. Safety in numbers. Everyone should be on high alert, I'm afraid this is another motive."

Ryo nodded seriously, and turned away to follow through on her orders. Yuki blinked, surprising herself with how she effortlessly took command of the situation.

'Murder expert', they had called her. Go figure.

She turned back around to the bed. "Kokichi, I'm going to try and figure this out, but I'm going to need your help."

Kokichi mumbled nonsense.

"Kokichi, this game is boring."

His eyes snapped open, this time staring directly at Yuki. She was surprised, but tried not to flinch, holding his gaze. His expression...it was kind of hard to read, but it kind of looked like he was...begging. "Am I onto something?" she asked quietly.

Kokichi's eyes pinched. He wanted to tell her something. It was hurting him.

"Okay, okay, relax for now," Yuki put one hand on his shoulder, feeling the heat from the fever radiate through the blanket. "I know you're trying to tell me something. I hear you. Just rest for now, we're going to figure it out."

Kokichi's eyes closed quickly, as if Yuki's permission to rest had completely snapped him back to sleep. She sighed.

"I'm guessing Ryo stopped by?" another voice from the doorway. This time, it was Emiko, returning with the water, and a couple pieces of fruit as well. She handed an apple wordlessly to Yuki.

"He did. I'm having him gather some people to go and check out the video game machine," Yuki explained. "Kokichi said something strange about video games. And with Makoto falling ill too-"

"It can't be a coincidence," as per usual, Emiko was on exactly the same wavelength as Yuki. She appreciated her for that. "Ryo told me he found Makoto fallen ill. I don't know what the hell is going on, but I don't like it," Emiko settled herself in front of Yuki, sitting on the edge of the mattress. She was careful not to touch or jostle Kokichi. "So, what do you make of it, Yuki?"

Once again, Emiko was asking Yuki's opinion. And once again, Yuki wasn't completely sure how to answer. She sighed, closing her eyes.

"I don't know how falling sick can be used as a motive, but I don't trust Monokuma for a second. I think we need to keep a careful eye on Makoto and Kokichi, for safety purposes. But we also shouldn't get too close, because we're not sure if it's contagious."

"We can always just...ask Monokuma?" Emiko offered. "I know he's untrustworthy, but when it comes to stuff like motives, he tends to be pretty open. He wants us to fear the motive. We can't fear it if we don't understand what's going on."

"You're not wrong. Maybe after Ryo checks out the video game, we can call a meeting, and ask Monokuma to explain."

"Monokuma..." Kokichi breathed from the bed, making the two girls jump. Both had assumed he was fully unconscious. His eyes hadn't opened, but he was still mumbling under his breath. "Not Monokuma's game...Monokuma...made the game..."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Emiko asked Kokichi, not expecting much of an answer. "So, did he make the game, or did he not?"

Kokichi hummed. It seemed he was still pretty out of it.

"That's also concerning me," Yuki pointed out. "Kokichi's behaving pretty strangely. Not just sick, but almost...like he's been hypnotized, or something? I think we need to go see Makoto, see if he is also behaving strangely."

"Lying disease?" Rantaro guessed through a mouthful of popcorn. Back in the real world, the usual gang was scattered about Rantaro, Miu, and Kaito's living room.

"No, I don't think it's that simple," Shuichi mused, one hand covering his mouth thoughtfully. His eyes were trained on the screen, the gears in his former detective head clearly turning.

"Truth-telling disease?" Kaito tried. "It would make more sense, since the twerp was always lying in the first place. Why give him a disease that makes him lie?"

"No, that's too easy too," Shuichi shook his head. "It's more than that. He's making two statements at once, and they're opposites. I think...Kokichi's contradicting himself."

"How is he doing that?" Kaito asked.

"Remember some of the things Kokichi said to Yuki when he woke up. He loved sleeping on the floor, but then he said he never does it. He loves video games, but he never plays them."

"You're right, that is weird!" Kaito exclaimed. "He's saying two completely different things at once!"

"A Contradictory Disease?" Rantaro hummed. "Why would Monokuma give him something like that?"

"I can't say for certain, because who knows how that bear thinks," Shuichi admitted. "But a Contradictory Disease would fit the symptoms. I mean, let's remember who Kokichi is. He went into the game to try and stop it forever, but he also ended up getting cast as the Mastermind!" he emphatically motioned towards the screen. "He's a walking contradiction right now!"

"If he slips up and says the wrong thing, people might figure out that he's the Mastermind. Or that he's...not the Mastermind. Wait," Rantaro pressed his hands against his temples. "This is getting confusing."

"So wait, if Kokichi is contradicting his own self right now," Kaito said. "Then, at this moment, does he want to end the killing game, or continue it?"

The group looked back up at the screen. None of them were sure what was happening inside Kokichi's head. Was this going to end up really bad for them?

The group of teens had gathered in the gym, without Kokichi and Makoto. Ryo and his team had investigated the video game, and found an open compartment that hadn't been there before. Yuki surmised that it could be the reason Makoto and Kokichi fell so ill. Once everyone had been caught up to speed, it was almost unanimously decided to call upon Monokuma and figure out just what the hell was going on.

Monokuma, complete with his little sailor hat, jumped out of the floorboards, landing up on the basketball hoop so that he could tower above the students. "Ahoy!" he cheered. "You called out for little old me?"

"Yeah, we did," Emiko, evidently nominating herself spokesperson of the group, stepped forward. Her shoulders were back, chin up. As usual, she was completely unafraid of Monokuma. "We deserve an answer on what the hell is happening here."

"Ohhh?" Monokuma tilted his head, lifting a paw to his mouth. "You're going to have to be more specific."

"You know what the fuck she's talking about!" Hisoka snapped, stepping up next to her. "She means what did you do to Makoto and Kokichi?"

"Yeah!" Ryo spoke up as well. "And what does that have to do with the killing game?"

"Who says it has to do with the killing game?" Monokuma asked with a little shrug. "Some people just get sick, you know!"

"Not like this," Emiko shook her head. "Not at the exact same time, same strange symptoms. You and your video game had something to do with it. We want to know what to know what you're playing at. How does this illness continue your killing game?"

"You reeeeeeally want me to tell you?" Monokuma asked. "You might not like the answer!"

"Just tell us!" Ryo snapped.

"Okay, okay! Pushy," Monokuma mumbled. "This particular illness is the Despair Disease! A virus created especially by me. It's very painful, very contagious, and very fatal!"

"Contagious?!" Rei gasped.

"Fatal..." Tohru breathed.

"That's right! And one by one, more of you are going to get sick! And eventually, well..." Monokuma 'pu-hu-hu'ed into his paw. "Well, you know what comes next."

"How do we stop it?" Emiko asked, still unwaveringly confident despite everything. "This is a game, surely there's some kind of thing you expect us to do."

"Well, I suppose I could cure all inflicted parties..." Monokuma teased. "But it would need to be a reward for something super big! Super exciting!"

"Something like what?" Emiko pressed.

"Something like...finding the mastermind."

Yuki's eyes widened. So there was a mastermind. The confirmation of it was as validating as it was concerning. That meant someone on this ship orchestrated the whole killing game. And judging by Monokuma's tone, it also means that-

"Wait, are you saying one of us is the mastermind?!" Rei exclaimed.

"And if you can figure out who it is, and show your work in a class trial, I will cure all inflicted students and...end the killing game!"

A wave of shock went through the group, and everyone started talking over each other. Everyone, that is, except for Emiko and Yuki, who both just shot each other silent looks.

"Alright, that's it!" Ryo shouted above the rest. "Who ever is the mastermind, you better show yourself right now!"

"Like that's gonna work," Emiko rolled her eyes.

"Better get investigating, sailors!" Monokuma saluted and disappeared behind the basketball hoop. Yuki's eyebrows perked up. Investigate, huh?

"Shit, what are we gonna do?!" Hisoka exclaimed. "We're screwed!"

"The mastermind isn't going to just reveal themselves," Tohru said, cupping her chin in thought. "I can't imagine it's going to be a very easy task."

Yuki wasn't so sure, actually. She nudged Emiko with her elbow, getting her attention and tugging her away from the group. "Emiko, think about Monokuma's wording," she whispered eagerly.

"What about it?" Emiko asked.

"Monokuma specifically said we should investigate," Yuki explained. "I don't think he would have said that unless there was something to investigate."

"What are you saying? That you think Monokuma's left clues on board?"

Yuki nodded confidently.

"I'm also worried about the other thing Monokuma said," Emiko pointed out. Prompted by Yuki's confused look, she continued. "'One by one, more of you are going to get sick'," she quoted. "This disease is designed to spread. If we aren't fast enough in our investigation, someone is bound to get sick, and soon."

"You're right," Yuki agreed. "Then we better get going."

Kokichi felt like crap. Utter crap. The part of his brain that was still somewhat conscious was just in complete agony. The rest of him was wobbling threateningly to pass out again. The room blurred around him, every time he moved his head he felt his stomach churn with motion sickness.

Worse off, it didn't seem like had any control of the words out of his mouth. He vaguely remembers answering some of Yuki's questions, but he was unable to really form a coherent thought. He wasn't exactly sure what he was saying, but he was sure it was close to nonsense.

It was too hot, too sticky, too exhausting, too hard to breathe. This wasn't supposed to happen. He never planned this kind of thing in his killing game. He opened his lips, about to call for Monokuma.

The door opened.

Kokichi's head rolled, and he squinted, trying to see who was at the door. He couldn't make out more than a silhouette, standing in the doorway. They moved closer. There was no blue glow to their eyes, so it couldn't have been his ghost.

The person's hand found its way to Kokichi's forehead, making him jump a little. The person tutted a little, pulling Kokichi's blanket up a little higher. Kokichi blinked up blearily at them.

"This isn't how I wanted it to go, Kokichi," they said, sounding mournful. Kokichi's eyebrows furrowed. "But if this is how it's gotta be...let's give 'em a show, yeah?"

Yeah.

No.

Yes, this was his killing game, and it was going to be-

Boring.

Remember?

You wanted boring.

"Aw, Kokichi," the person chuckled above him. "You've been anything but boring."

Kokichi wanted to say something. Instead, his eyelids fluttered closed, as he found he couldn't fight the pull down into unconsciousness anymore.

b̵͔̿͝å̴̪͌c̸̮̏́k̶̖̓d̵̡̈ö̴̖̞́̓ŏ̸̹͂r̶̙̺̊.̵̙͈͛͗v̵̼̽3̸̬̈͂

By the end of the day, three more students had fallen ill.

Chapter Text

When Kokichi was nothing more than a toddler, he was found by a pair of sisters. A soldier, and a fashionista.

It was raining, a rare occurrence during the Great Tragedy, a near apocalyptic event that had taken over Japan. Children wearing bear helmets roamed the streets, brutally killing any adults they came across. Perhaps that was how his birth parents died. He would never know.

Perhaps, because it was raining, that was what made the sisters stop and inspect the baby boy.

"It's just a kid," the soldier said. "An orphan. There are thousands like him."

Rain pelted down on the child, but not the two sisters. The fashionista was holding a large, black and white umbrella over both of their heads, shadowing the features on their faces. Behind them, the sky was red.

"But maybe...it was fate that brought him here, to the doorstep of our school," the fashionista mused, raising a long, sharp fingernail to her lips. "Don'tcha think?"

"I don't know..." the soldier mumbled, still sounding quite hesitant.

"Who knows. Maybe the little bastard can do some good, for us," the fashionista said with an air of finality. "Lucky little thing, the Enoshima sisters will take great care of you! For such a lucky fate, you will now be known as Kokichi Enoshima."

Little Luck.

From then on, Kokichi was raised byJ̸̣̗̇ų̷̲̹̋n̶̳̺̖̈́̄̂̕k̷̟͔͂͊ọ̴̹̈́ ̴̬̊͑̚a̶̳̱̫̐̚͜ṅ̷̯̠̙̀́̇d̸̰̠̙̜̈́̒͐͠ ̷̩̎̑M̵̯̯̜̀̈́͑u̸͉͆ͅk̵̖̏u̵̥͍͚̿r̶̢͚̟͚̀̉̒̈́ǒ̸̜͎̌̚͝ ̷̙̈̒Ě̷͔͈̞͑n̵͉̦̂͝ö̴̗́͐̍s̶͓̍͜ḩ̷͈̲̝̾̀i̵̧̖͛̀m̸̢̩͒̓̌̈́a̶̦͔͎̍͛̇̕-

Ǝ˙Ͻ˙I˙ᗡ ɥʇıʍ dn ʍǝɹƃ ǝH

D.I.C.E. does not exist

L̸̢̖͍̜̄̉͊̒̕̚ȋ̵̛̯͕̭̖̗̋̈́̂̎̇̏́͊̐̏͘͝t̴̨̛̘̓̉̾̍͛̀̎̀̍̒͒̇̋̚ţ̵̞͓͖̱̳̩̘͉̖̤̱̣͕̣̌͋̎̀̄̃̈́̂̔̕͘͝l̶̼̞̞̰̪̰̝͉̲̠̈́͂̑̈́͊̌̋̕͜͠e̷̡͙͙͎̙̬̺͛͋̈͋̿͑̅̌͋̀̅̚ ̵̞̘͖͎͎̬͉̒̋͋͛̊̈́̇̎́̔͊̒̇̀͜Ļ̸̢̭̰̰̑̍̀͆͐͑̔͘͜ų̴͉̣̫̭̥͕̟̹͚̰̈͒̂̊́̾̔̎̓͂̐̚͘͘͜͜͝c̸͎̹̻̝̔̀͑̈́ķ̷̧̼̤̲͇͇̈́̌̈́̀̑̋͒̽̔́̃̾͝͠

"Our smart

little

b̶̡̢̩̳̱̜͍̓̿̅͊̊̈́̽̾͜ͅr̶̛̜̘̘̜̗̙̣̂̓̑̆͂̈́͝o̴͖̜̙̖͛̈́̑ͅt̸̻̻͇̥̿̔̽̀̀̚h̶̞̀̒̎͝ę̴̡͓̯̝̙͙͘̚r̸̪̺̮̤̯̱̆̇͜͜...!"

Junko Enoshima cooed over a five-year-old Kokichi, who had completed a milk puzzle at the rate that not even a teenager could produce. "How

could he pull off something like that?" Mukuro asked, leaning over the table, furrowing her eyebrows with shock.

"I told you, it was fate," Junko lovingly tussled the hair of her

little

b̶̡̢̩̳̱̜͍̓̿̅͊̊̈́̽̾͜ͅr̶̛̜̘̘̜̗̙̣̂̓̑̆͂̈́͝o̴͖̜̙̖͛̈́̑ͅt̸̻̻͇̥̿̔̽̀̀̚h̶̞̀̒̎͝ę̴̡͓̯̝̙͙͘̚r̸̪̺̮̤̯̱̆̇͜͜

cheerfully. "Destiny brought us a genius, who will help carry on the Ultimate Despair when we are gone!"

Kokichi giggled gleefully at that, clapping his hands together. "I did good?" he asked, his voice high-pitched and innocent, with only the slightest hint of a lisp.

"You did great, 'Kichi," Junko said, genuineness dripping from her tongue like honey.

"'Kichi...how far are you trying to go?"

"Perhaps, he shares a similar Talent to yours, sister?" Mukuro said. "Maybe this kid is an Ultimate in the making. Ultimate Analyst, like you? I don't know how else such a young child could pull off such a feat."

"Ama-list?" Kokichi tried the word out with his clumsy tongue, looking confused, but interested.

"Ana-lyst," Junko corrected, adopting a haughty, almost British tone. "That's my Talent. It is what an Ultimate is born with, something that makes them special, that makes them rise above the common man. My Talent is especially unique, because it lead to me becoming the Ultimate Fashionista, and even better, the Ultimate Despair! I was born with a gift, Kokichi. My beautiful, sharp, detail-enhanced brain was something that I was born with, that I nurtured into something even greater. If you have a Talent like that, then someday, you could even become as great as me."

"Big Sis Junko!" Kokichi cheered, waving his chubby hands above his head. Junko's face split into a giant smile, toothy, like a shark's.

"That's right. You can be just like me. Born special, and raised to become something amazing."

Kokichi's eyes sparkled. Something amazing. Junko had told him how she found him on the streets, drenched in the rain as only a baby. A boy of unknown origins, found in the mud. An orphan, unwanted, left to die among the concrete of the city and the blood of the victims of the Great Tragedy. If he could rise to something that high, from starting at a place so low...

He wanted that. He wanted to be amazing.

"How?" he breathed, reverently, staring up at his big s̸͇̙̆͝i̵̭̭̜͑̇͐̕s̸͈͇̤̲̓̀́̓t̶̞͌̓͌e̸̝̬̐ŕ̸̯̫͝ in awe.

Junko looked down at him, clearly thinking for a moment. Then, seemingly making a decision, she suddenly rose from her seat, sweeping her

little

b̴͕̃̄́͝r̴̠͗͊͛ó̷͓͈̲t̵̩̩̖͂̊h̴̩̑̊́͗͜e̸̗̽́͌r̸̦̜͙̀̓̚

into her arms. He squealed with joy as he suddenly found himself perched on Junko's hips, her arms strong around his waist. He clung to her tightly, like a koala.

"Kokichi," she said. "Little Luck. Would you like to see something fun?"

"Fun!"

"Yes. Reallyyyyy fun. It's called a Killing Game."

Junko orchestrated the deaths of hundreds when she was fifteen years old.

It had started with the student council of a school called Hopes Peak Academy. An elaborate ruse that lead them to kill each other, while Junko could sit back and watch. There were no survivors.

Then, the reserve course of that same school. They had all committed suicide, simultaneously. There were no survivors.

Then, there was the Killing Game that Junko was letting Kokichi watch now. The televised one. The one of the 78th class of Hopes Peak Academy, held captive in the school, and hosted by the robot bear of Junko's design (along with a mechanic with whom she didn't bother to share the name). Kokichi watched as children were provided with motives, and one by one, started to kill each other off. He was unsure of how to react, so he turned to Junko for guidance. When he saw her react with pure joy and elation, squealing and cheering at each death, he realized that it was a good thing. A great thing.

Amazing.

This was the amazing that she had been talking about.

"I used my Talent to devise all of this," Junko sighed wistfully, nostalgically. "Six years have passed since that first Killing Game. It had only been one year when I had found you, my Little Luck," Junko poked Kokichi's nose endearingly, making the young boy giggle and wriggle in her lap. "Now, every year, I host a Killing Game with a whole new group of teenagers."

"What about the first game?" Kokichi asked, his minor lisp slightly contorting the word 'f̴̙͈̤͂̾̈́ͅi̸̗̱̝͆͗̑̒r̷̡̨̗̍̽̚ș̵̟̱̫̆͋̆t̵̥͓͓͖̓̾̾'. "Did anyone survive?"

Yes, it had turned out, though Junko did not seem upset about it. Their names were Kyoko, ██████, Byakuya, Toko, Aoi, and Hiro. "They are dear to me, Kokichi," Junko said, holding a hand to her heart and watching the screen with a look of adoration. "They were my school friends, my classmates. I loved them, more than anything."

"More than Big Sis Mukuro?" Kokichi asked.

"Yes."

"More than...me?" he asked, his voice growing quieter with caution. Junko's face went blank for a moment, before she glanced down at him with a bright smile.

"There is no one I love more than you, Kokichi."

Ever since then, Kokichi had done training with Junko, to put his Talent to good use. Two Ultimate Analysts in the same family was nothing short of a miracle. Junko didn't seem to think this miracle was a coincidence, though.

"It's fate!" she would exclaim.

"Destiny!"

"You were born for me to find you!"

"Little Luck, you are going to be

amazing."

Kokichi found his purpose. Watching his siͥstͭeͤrͬ smile every time he did something right was enough reward to continue pushing further, harder. Junko would give him progressively harder math quizzes, with no calculator to rely on. She would have him read an entire letter's section of the English dictionary, and then recite the words back in order. And then again, in Russian. She had intended to get through several more languages, someday. He at least made it halfway through French, all the way to the letter M.

𝔐𝔞𝔠𝔞𝔟𝔢: 𝔴𝔢𝔦𝔯𝔡, 𝔲𝔫𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔥𝔩𝔶, 𝔬𝔯 𝔥𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔟𝔩𝔢

She would train him on how to be observant of others. How to tell by their clothes, their hair, their stance, their stride: who they were, what their job was, how much they deserved to live.

"You can tell everything just by looking at someone, Kokichi," Junko had said. "Why do you think I became the Ultimate Fashionista in the first place?"

𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔞𝔳𝔢́𝔩𝔦𝔮𝔲𝔢: 𝔐𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔞𝔫, 𝔠𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤

While Junko trained his brain, Mukuro taught him...other such things.

"You mustn't hold it too close to your face, Kokichi," she had said, putting a hand on the rifle and pulling it slightly away from his face. Ten year old Kokichi glanced up at her, awaiting for approval. "And you have to grip it tighter. Here," she put a hand over his, tightening his grip around the rifle. "And you are too tense in your back. That's why you keep falling from the kickback."

𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔: (𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎: 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚒𝚕) 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚍

Five times in a row, Panta bottles that had been stacked on a fence exploded into raining shards of glass. Five, rapid-fire gunshots rang through the air before each bottle broke, glass tumbling to the ground like sparkling snow. Ten year old Kokichi lowered the rifle away from his face, gaze serious.

"Well done," Mukuro's voice came from behind him. His back turned to her, he let his face split into a giant smile. "Now, for some more exciting targets."

Even though they were causing Despair, Junko never seemed too attached to the children in bear masks that wandered the streets. Kokichi shot them down like deer, leaving their bodies on the ground, as they were of no use to him once they were hit. The streets were already stained with blood, so Kokichi's actions didn't do much to change that.

𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔯: 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

˙ɹǝʌƎ ˙ʎpoqʎuɐ ןןıʞ ʇou op :ǝןnɹ ʇuɐʇɹodɯı ʇsoɯ s,˙Ǝ˙Ͻ˙I˙ᗡ

Mukuro also taught him hand-to-hand, an art form and exercise that Kokichi found much more invigorating than shooting a gun. As he grew older, he found his stride with speed and agility, more than brute strength. He used his small, lean form to his advantage, leaping and bounding around Mukuro during their sparring sessions. He was better at dodging than blocking, to the point where he was admittedly getting a little showy with it, throwing in gymnast-level cartwheels, handsprings, and flips.

"He's a bouncy little asshole!" Junko cheered from the sidelines, nothing but pride in her voice. Kokichi grinned.

"You can't dodge forever," Mukuro instructed seriously, brushing her nose with her thumb and holding her fists out in front of her. "You need to hit me."

Kokichi tried for a swing at her, but quickly found himself bounding backwards and dodging Mukuro's attacks once more.

"Hit me!" Mukuro snapped, swinging her leg through the air. Kokichi ducked, rolling underneath her and popping up on her other side. Mukuro was ready for him, though, wheeling around and snapping her leg outwards in a

𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚔: 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕,𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚝. 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚔𝚎

𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍.

that Kokichi had to dodge once again. He stumbled backwards, playing off his stumble by falling backwards into a back walk over. Mukuro was relentless, however, lunging forward at him with rapid-fire punches. Kokichi leaned side to side, narrowly avoiding each blow.

"Hit me!" Mukuro growled again, unrelenting in her advances. Kokichi tried not to let his irritation show, but he could feel the grimace on his face growing the more and more he had to dodge.

"Hit me!"

"Hit her!" Junko shouted encouragingly.

"Hit me!"

"Hit her!"

"I said hit me!" Mukuro's body spun around, her leg lashing out as quick as a whip. For as agile as he was, Kokichi wasn't quick enough. The side of her foot connected directly with his chest with a rough thud, causing Kokichi to completely fall backwards onto the grass below. He grunted as he caught himself with the palms of his hands, grass skidding and staining his skin and surely going to leave a couple scrapes. Mukuro stopped moving, standing above him like a tower. Kokichi glared up at her, chest heaving with heavy breaths, but he did not get up again.

"My poor, cute little b̷̖̥͋̚̕̕r̴̡͇̩̞̈́͑̽͌́ǫ̷̯̋̆̑͑͐̇͘t̶̨̳̙̙̹͎͖̒͑͊h̵̘̏̾̏̽̓̈́̅e̸̟̬̳͗̕r̸̤͚̺̫̩͖̟̀̅̏," Junko sighed sympathetically as she cleaned him off. She sat in front of him in the grass, delicately tapping an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against the open scrapes in his hands. Kokichi winced at the stinging touch, but didn't pull away, allowing his s̶̜̤͖͚͔͔͎̏i̸͇͚͎̯̯̿͗͗̇͆̓ś̸̬̮̥͖͋̀̇̂̎t̶͓̮̺͖̪̙͐̏̔͜e̶̠͋̏͂͛́̚͝r̸̡̛͎̩̺͆̅̒ to gently cup his hands in her own. He tried to focus not on the firey sting of the alcohol, but rather the comforting warmth from Junko's hands. "Mukuro may not be that smart, or pretty, but she is hard to beat," she said, giving her sister some credit with a shrug. "Someday, you will surpass her."

"Will I surpass you?" Kokichi asked, innocently. Junko's hands tightened around his, and he hissed in pain as her long nails accidentally dug into his fresh cuts.

"Who knows?" Junko said simply, releasing her hold on his hands. "Maybe if you keep working, Little Luck."

𝔪𝔞𝔦̂𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔯: 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯, 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔰𝔨𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔦𝔫, 𝔬𝔯 𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢

"Whatcha drawing, Little Luck?" Junko asked.

Twelve year old Kokichi looked up from his spot on the floor, his journal open in front of him. He had been furiously scribbling something on its pages in charcoal. However, he quickly leaned forward, slapping his hands on the floor over it.

"It's a surprise!" he exclaimed.

"A surprise?" Junko's head cocked in curiosity. "A surprise for who?"

"For you, Big Sis!" Kokichi rolled his eyes, the preteen sass now ingrained in his every move, even with the sister he adored. "Who else would it be for?"

"My little b̷̖̥͋̚̕̕r̴̡͇̩̞̈́͑̽͌́ǫ̷̯̋̆̑͑͐̇͘t̶̨̳̙̙̹͎͖̒͑͊h̵̘̏̾̏̽̓̈́̅e̸̟̬̳͗̕r̸̤͚̺̫̩͖̟̀̅̏ is just too sweet!" Junko cooed, ruffling Kokichi's head of long, purple hair. Her b̷̖̥͋̚̕̕r̴̡͇̩̞̈́͑̽͌́ǫ̷̯̋̆̑͑͐̇͘t̶̨̳̙̙̹͎͖̒͑͊h̵̘̏̾̏̽̓̈́̅e̸̟̬̳͗̕r̸̤͚̺̫̩͖̟̀̅̏ shrunk under her touch, looking passively irritated, but couldn't hide a certain level of fondness in his expression.

"You can't see until it's done, 'kay?"

"Okay, my hard working b̷̖̥͋̚̕̕r̴̡͇̩̞̈́͑̽͌́ǫ̷̯̋̆̑͑͐̇͘t̶̨̳̙̙̹͎͖̒͑͊h̵̘̏̾̏̽̓̈́̅e̸̟̬̳͗̕r̸̤͚̺̫̩͖̟̀̅̏," Junko lovingly tapped her finger on Kokichi's nose. "I look forward to see what you're creating!"

As Junko walked away, Kokichi peeled his arms away from his notebook. He had been doodling and writing drafts for his own killing game. Something as big- no, bigger and better than Big Sis's. Big Sis Junko had taken over every inch of the country, however. So he needed to be creative. He had an interesting theory about hosting a game on a boat. Maybe a cruise ship. Something was appealing about it being extra inescapable. He just needed to find some players.

Big Sis Junko's school was no longer running, so Kokichi needed to get creative. He still wanted to use people with Ultimate Talents, like him and his sisters. But how to find them? Kokichi had been working on a theory, a way to code the Monokuma heads on some of the brainwashed Despairs out there. He can turn them into an army of Talent-hunting soldiers. Something like...an Ultimate Hunt. A scavenge to track down every hidden Ultimate in the country and bring them aboard his boat.

Of course, if he were to join these Ultimates in the game, he would need to craft a persona for himself. If they knew him as the Ultimate Analyst, little b̷̖̥͋̚̕̕r̴̡͇̩̞̈́͑̽͌́ǫ̷̯̋̆̑͑͐̇͘t̶̨̳̙̙̹͎͖̒͑͊h̵̘̏̾̏̽̓̈́̅e̸̟̬̳͗̕r̸̤͚̺̫̩͖̟̀̅̏ to the Ultimate Despair, he will never get people to cooperate. No, he needed a fake Talent, like what his Big Sis did in her first game. Kokichi was pretty good at drawing, and picking up on trends, analyzing what will be in and out of style. Maybe something similar to Big Sis.

Kokichi wrote down the words 'Ultimate Fashion Designer'.

It was all coming together. He needed some time to program the Monokuma heads. Luckily, he knew a thing or two about coding. It will take a while, but he can use the Monokuma Kids to his whim. They will help him secure a ship for his game, design cameras, and hunt down Ultimates. No matter how long it took, Kokichi will make sure that he had an army to control.

˙uoıʇɐʇısǝɥ ou ɥʇıʍ uı ƃuıʇʇıs ǝɹǝʍ ʎǝɥʇ ʇods ǝɥʇ ɹǝʌo ƃuıʇsɐןq 'sʞɔɐɹʇ ǝɥʇ uʍop ƃuıɯɐǝɹɔs ǝɯɐɔ uıɐɹʇ ƃuıuɹoɯ ǝɥʇ ǝɯıʇ ǝɥʇ ʎq pɹɐʎ ǝɥʇ ʇɟǝן ʎןǝʇǝןdɯoɔ pɐɥ spıʞ ǝɥ⊥ ˙sʞɔɐɹʇ uıɐɹʇ ǝɥʇ ɯoɹɟ ʎɐʍɐ nnʎ pɐǝן ǝɥ sɐ ʇı ʎq pǝʇןnsuı ɯǝǝs ʇ,upıp ǝH „¡ǝɹoɟǝq ʇɐɥʇ pןoʇ uǝǝq ǝʌ,I„ ˙ʞɔɐq s,nnʎ uo puɐɥ ɐ ƃuıʇuɐןd 'pǝɥƃnɐן puɐ ʞɔɐq pɐǝɥ sıɥ pǝssoʇ ıɥɔıʞoʞ

„˙pɹıǝʍ ƃuıǝq ǝɹ,noʎ 'ǝɯ oʇ ʇɐɥʇ ǝʞıן ʎsǝʇnɔ ʞןɐʇ ʇ,uoᗡ„ ˙ʇǝǝɟ sıɥ oʇ ɯıɥ pǝʞuɐʎ puɐ ɯɹɐ sıɥ pǝqqɐɹƃ ıɥɔıʞoʞ sɐ pǝsnɯɐun ƃuıʞooן 'pǝɟɟoɔs nnʎ

„¡uɐɥɔ-nnʎ 'ʇɐɥʇ ɥʇıʍ ǝɯ ƃuıʇsnɹʇ ɹoɟ noʎ ʞuɐɥ⊥ ¡ǝɔɐɟ ǝןqɐɹopɐ ʇou ɐ ɥɔns ɹoɟ ǝɯɐu ǝןqɐɹopɐ uɐ ʇɐɥM„ ˙pǝɹǝǝɥɔ ıɥɔıʞoʞ „¡uɐɥɔ-nnʎ„

„˙nnʎ s,ǝɯɐu ʎW„ ˙ʎןʇɥƃıןs 'pǝuǝʇɟos uʍoɹɟ sıɥ 'uǝɥ⊥ ˙pǝןʍoɹƃ uɐɥɔ-uʍoɹℲ „'ʇɐɥʇ ǝɯ ןןɐɔ ʇ,uoᗡ„

„¿ʎɐs noʎ op ʇɐɥʍ 'uɐɥɔ-uʍoɹℲ 'uoɯ,Ͻ ¡ǝɔɐɟ ʎǝuıɥsuns ɐ ɥɔns ɹoɟ uoıʇdǝɔxǝ uɐ ǝʞɐɯ uɐɔ I ʇnq 'ʇǝɹɔǝs 'ןןǝʍ 'uoıʇɐzıuɐƃɹo ʇǝɹɔǝs ʎɯ dǝǝʞ oʇ ǝןdoǝd ןןıʞ oʇ ǝʌɐɥ op I 'ʎןןɐns∩ ¡ƃuıppıʞ ʇou ɯ,I„

˙ʎןǝʌısuǝɟǝp spuɐɥ sıɥ pǝsıɐɹ ıɥɔıʞoʞ puɐ 'ʞooן snoıɔıdsns ɐ ıɥɔıʞoʞ ʇoɥs ǝH

„˙pǝʞsɐ suoıʇsǝnb ou 'ʎɐʍɐ ʞןɐʍ uɐɔ noʎ 'ʇı ǝʇɐɥ ʎןǝʇnןosqɐ noʎ ɟı pu∀ ˙sɹoʌɐǝpuǝ ןıʌǝ ǝɹnʇnɟ ʇnoqɐ ʞןɐʇ uɐɔ ǝʍ 'sʎnƃ ǝsǝɥʇ oʇ noʎ ǝɔnpoɹʇuı uɐɔ I„ ˙pıɐs ıɥɔıʞoʞ „'sɹǝʇɹɐnbpɐǝɥ ʇɐ ʞɔɐq sn ɥʇıʍ ǝʇıq ɐ ʇǝƃ ǝɯoɔ 'uo ǝɯoϽ„

˙ǝןʞɔnɥɔ ɐ ɥʇıʍ pǝʇʇıɯpɐ uɐɥɔ-ıɯƎ „'ƃuoɹʍ ʇou s,ǝɥ 'ɥƃnouǝ ʎןpɹıǝM„

„˙punoɹɐ ǝɯ ƃuıʍoןןoɟ doʇs ɹǝʌǝu sʎnƃ ǝsǝɥʇ ʇɐɥʇ 'ǝןqɐʞıן uɹɐp os ʇsnɾ ɯ,I„ ˙pǝuıɐןdxǝ ıɥɔıʞoʞ „'uɐɥɔ-uʍoɹℲ 'ʇuǝɯʇınɹɔǝɹ op ʎןןɐǝɹ ʇ,uop I„

„¿ƃuıɥʇǝɯos ɹo ǝɯ ʇınɹɔǝɹ oʇ ƃuıʎɹʇ noʎ„

˙pǝssǝɹdɯıun pǝʞooן uǝǝʇ ǝɥ⊥ ˙ʎןƃuıʇuǝsǝɹd ǝɔɐɟ s,uɐɥɔ-uʍoɹℲ ɟo ʇuoɹɟ uı ʇno spuɐɥ sıɥ pǝssǝɹd ǝɥ „',uoıʇɐzıuɐƃɹo ןıʌǝ, ǝʞıן ǝɹoɯ ʞuıɥ⊥ ˙xoq ǝɥʇ ǝpısuı ƃuıʞuıɥʇ ǝɹ,noʎ„ ˙ɐǝpı ǝɥʇ ɟɟo pǝʌɐʍ ıɥɔıʞoʞ „'op oʇ ʇuɐʍ I ʇɐɥʍ oʇ pǝɹɐdɯoɔ ןןɐɯs os ǝɹɐ sƃuɐƃ ʇnq ˙sʇɹos ɟO„

„¿ǝɹǝɥ punoɹɐ ƃuɐƃ ɟo puıʞ ǝɯos ƃuıuunɹ noʎ ¿ɥnɥ 'ssoq„ ˙pǝsıɹdɹns pǝʞooן ƃnɥʇ uǝǝʇ ǝɥ⊥

„˙pıɐs noʎ ʇɐɥʍ s,ʇɐɥʇ ǝɹns ʎʇʇǝɹd 'ssoq ǝɹnS„ ˙pǝpuodsǝɹ 'ɐıןnſ 'ןɹıƃ uɐɔıɹǝɯ∀ u∀

„¿uɐɥɔ-nſ 'ʇɥƃıɹ ʇɐɥʇ ʇ,usI ,¡ʍoןןǝɟ ƃuıʇsǝɹǝʇuı uɐ ǝʞıן sʞooן ǝɥ 'ǝǝƃ, ʇɥƃnoɥʇ puɐ ǝɹǝɥ ɹǝʌo ƃuıʇʇıs noʎ ʍɐs ʇsnɾ I ˙ǝɹoɟǝq noʎ ɟo pɹɐǝɥ ɹǝʌǝu ǝʌɐɥ ʎןןɐǝɹ I„ ˙ʎןqɐɔıɯɐ ɹǝpןnoɥs s,ʎoq ɹǝƃɹɐן ǝɥʇ pǝʇʇɐd ıɥɔıʞoʞ „'uɐɥɔ-uʍoɹℲ 'ɹǝʌǝu pןnoʍ I„

„¡¿ǝɯ ʞɔıɹʇ oʇ ƃuıʎɹʇ noʎ ǝɹɐ 'ןןǝɥ ǝɥʇ ʇɐɥM„ ˙uʍop ɯıɥ pǝɹɐןƃ uǝǝʇ ǝɥ⊥

„˙ןɐuıɯıɹɔ ɐ ǝɹɐ noʎ ˙pǝpǝǝu I ɹǝʍsuɐ ǝɥʇ ןןɐ sɐʍ ǝsuodsǝɹ ɹnoʎ ʇnq ˙ǝןʇʇıן ɐ uǝʌǝ ʇoN„ ˙pǝuuıɹƃ ıɥɔıʞoʞ „¡ǝdoN„

˙pǝɹǝdsıɥʍ uɐɥɔ-uʍoɹℲ „¿ɯɐ I oɥʍ ʍouʞ noʎ„

„˙oʇ ǝʇɐןǝɹ uɐɔ noʎ ןǝǝɟ I ʇɐɥʇ ǝɟıן ∀„ ˙ʇsıɟ sıɥ uo uıɥɔ sıɥ ƃuıɥɔɹǝd ʎןıɯɐǝɹp pɐǝʇsuı 'ǝɔıʇou oʇ ɯǝǝs ʇ,upıp ıɥɔıʞoʞ ʇnq 'ǝɔuɐʇsıp sıɥ dǝǝʞ oʇ ƃuıʎɹʇ 'ʎɐʍɐ pǝןǝǝd uɐɥɔ-uʍoɹℲ ˙ɯıɥ oʇ ʇxǝu ʇıs oʇ uʍop ƃuıʞuıs ʎןןɐɔıʇɐɯɐɹp puɐ ƃuıuɹnʇ 'pǝssǝɟuoɔ ıɥɔıʞoʞ „'pıɐɹɟɐ ɯ,I 'ןɐuıɯıɹɔ puɐ ɟǝıɥʇ pooƃ ou ∀„

„¿noʎ ǝɹɐ ןןǝɥ ǝɥʇ oɥM ¿ןןǝɥ ǝɥʇ ʇɐɥM„ ˙uoıssǝɹdxǝ pǝsnɟuoɔ ʎןʇɥƃıןs ɐ oʇuı ƃuıɹǝʌɐʍ ןɹɐus 'ʎןʇɥƃıןs ʞɔɐq ƃuıuɐǝן 'ʇɐɥʇ ʎq ɟɟo ʇnd pǝʞooן ʎןןɐnʇɔɐ uǝǝʇ ǝɥ⊥

„˙ooʇ 'ɥsıʍ ɥʇɐǝp ɹǝɥƃıɥ ɐ sɐɥ ǝuo ou pu∀ ¡ǝɯ uɐɥʇ ɹǝʇʇǝq spooɹq ǝuo oN ˙ɹǝʌo ǝʞɐʇ oʇ ǝʌɐɥ oʇ ƃuıoƃ ɯ,I pıɐɹɟɐ ɯ,I 'os ɟı ǝsnɐɔǝq„ ˙ʎןƃuısɐǝʇ pǝʞsɐ ıɥɔıʞoʞ „¿ǝıp oʇ ƃuıʞooן ǝɹɐ oɥʍ suǝǝʇ ʎpooɹq ɹoɟ ʎןuo ʇods sıɥʇ sI ¿ʎɥM„

„¡ǝɹǝɥ ɟo ʇno ןןǝɥ ǝɥʇ ʇǝƃ uǝɥʇ 'ǝıp oʇ ƃuıʞooן ʇou ǝɹ,noʎ ɟI„

˙ǝɹoɯ pǝuʍoɹɟ ǝɥ sɐ 'ɟɟo uǝǝʇ ǝɥʇ pǝssıd ʎןɹɐǝןɔ ʇɐɥ⊥ ˙ƃuoןɐ pǝɥƃnɐן ɯıɥ puıɥǝq spıʞ ǝɥʇ puɐ 'pǝןʞɔnɥɔ ıɥɔıʞoʞ „¡ǝuo ʎןpuǝıɹɟ ɐ s,ǝɥ 'ɥO„

„˙ʇɹnɥ ƃuıʇʇǝƃ oʇuı spıʞ ɟo ɥɔunq ɐ ʇıɐq oʇ ƃuıʎɹʇ ɯ,I ǝqʎɐɯ ɹO„ ˙pǝɹǝǝus uǝǝʇ ǝɥʇ „'ʇɹnɥ ʇǝƃ oʇ ƃuıʎɹʇ ɯ,I ǝqʎɐW„

„¿ʇɐɥʇ ǝʞıן ʇɹnɥ ʇǝƃ uɐɔ noʎ ʍouʞ noʎ ʇ,uoᗡ„ ˙sdıɥ sıɥ uo sʇsıɟ sıɥ ɥʇıʍ pɹɐʍɹoɟ ƃuıuɐǝן 'pǝʞsɐ ıɥɔıʞoʞ „¿ɹoɟ sʞɔɐɹʇ uıɐɹʇ ǝɥʇ uo ƃuıʇʇıs ɐɥɔʇɐɥM„

„¿ʎɐʍʎuɐ ǝɹǝɥ ɹǝʌo ƃuıop spıʞ ɟo ɥɔunq ɐ ǝɹɐ ʇɐɥM ¿ʇɐ ƃuıʞooן noʎ ǝɹɐ ןןǝɥ ǝɥ⊥„

˙ʞɔɐɹʇ uıɐɹʇ ɐ uo ʇno-pǝןʍɐɹds ʇɐs ǝɥ sɐ ɯıɥ ʇɐ dn pǝןɹɐus ',uɐɥɔ-uʍoɹℲ, pǝqqnp ʎןןɐʇuǝɯ ıɥɔıʞoʞ oɥʍ 'uǝǝʇ ǝɥ⊥ ˙uǝǝʇ ssǝןǝɯoɥ ɐ ʇɐ uʍop pǝɹǝʞɔıus ıɥɔıʞoʞ „¡ǝuoʎɹǝʌǝ 'ǝɔɐɟ ʎdɯnɹƃ sıɥʇ ʇɐ ʞoo˥„

˙ʎuɐdɯoɔ ǝɥʇ pǝʞıן ıɥɔıʞoʞ 'ןןǝʍ ɥO ˙sƃuıןʞɔnp ǝʞıן punoɹɐ ɯıɥ ʍoןןoɟ ʎǝɥʇ ʍoN ˙pǝɹoq uǝǝq pɐɥ ıɥɔıʞoʞ 'ןןǝʍ 'puɐ ɯǝɥʇ dןǝɥ oʇ pǝɹǝɥʇoq ǝsןǝ ǝuo oN ˙ʇɹnɥ ɹo 'ƃuıʌɹɐʇs punoɟ ǝɥ spıʞ ˙ʍou ʎq spıʞ ɟo ǝןƃƃɐƃ ǝןʇʇıן ɐ pǝɹǝɥʇɐƃ pɐɥ ǝH ˙ɯoɹɟ sɐʍ ǝɥ ǝɹǝɥʍ 'uɐdɐſ uı ʞɔɐq sɹǝqɯǝɯ ɹǝʍǝu ǝɥʇ ɟo ǝuo punoɟ ıɥɔıʞoʞ

˙Ǝ˙Ͻ˙I˙ᗡ sǝʌןǝsɯǝɥʇ ןןɐɔ ʎןןɐnʇuǝʌǝ pןnoʍ ʇɐɥʇ sɹǝʇsʞuɐɹd ʎןןɐuoısɐɔɔo puɐ 'sǝʌǝıɥʇ 'suɐɥdɹo ɟo dnoɹƃ ∀ ˙ƃuɐƃ s,ıɥɔıʞoʞ ɟo ɹǝqɯǝɯ ʇsɹıɟ ǝɥʇ ǝɯɐɔǝq 'uɐɥɔ-ıɯƎ ɹo 'ǝıןıɯƎ ʍoɥ sɐʍ ʇɐɥʇ pu∀

„˙ǝuoʎuɐ ʇɹnɥ ɹǝʌǝu ןן,I„ ˙uıɹƃ ǝpıʍ ɐ uı ɥʇǝǝʇ sıɥ ƃuıɹɐq 'pɐǝɥ ǝpuoןq ʎƃƃos ɹǝɥ uo puɐɥ ɐ pǝʇuɐןd ıɥɔıʞoʞ „'sıs ǝןʇʇıן 'ǝɯ ʇnoqɐ uɹɐǝן oʇ ƃuıɥʇ ǝuo s,ʇɐɥ⊥„

˙pǝʞsɐ ןɹıƃ ǝɥʇ „¿ʇɹnɥ ʇǝƃ ןןıʍ ǝuo oN„

„¿ʇɥƃıɹ 'ɯǝɥʇ uɐɥʇ spıʞ ƃuıʌɹɐʇs ɟo ǝןdnoɔ ɐ oʇ ǝɹoɯ suɐǝɯ pooɟ ǝɥ⊥ ¡ʎsɐǝ ǝq ןן,ʇı 'uoɯ,Ͻ ˙ǝuoƃ s,ʇı ǝɔıʇou uǝʌǝ oʇ ɯǝɥʇ ɹoɟ pooɟ ɥƃnouǝ ʇɐǝ ʎןǝɹɐq ןן,ǝʍ 'sn ǝʞıן sƃuıɥʇ ǝןʇʇıן oʍ⊥„ ˙suɹǝɔuoɔ ɹǝɥ ɟɟo pǝʌɐʍ ıɥɔıʞoʞ „¡ǝɯıp ɐ ǝsoן ʎןpɹɐɥ ןןıʍ ʇuɐɹnɐʇsǝɹ ǝɥʇ 'ʇsoɯ ʇɐ ʇɟǝɥʇ ʎʇʇǝԀ„

˙pǝɹǝɯɯɐʇs ןɹıƃ ǝɥʇ „¿ןɐǝʇS-S„

„˙ɹǝʇsdɯnp ǝɥʇ ɥɔɐǝɹ oʇ pooɟ ǝɥʇ ɹoɟ ƃuıʇıɐʍ ɟo pɐǝʇsuI„ ˙ʎɐʍʎǝןןɐ ǝɥʇ ɟo ןןɐʍ ǝɥʇ pǝʇʇɐd ʎןƃuıʌoן ıɥɔıʞoʞ „'puıɥǝq ƃuıpıɥ ǝɹ,noʎ ʇɐɥʇ ʇuǝɯɥsıןqɐʇsǝ ǝuıɟ sıɥʇ ɯoɹɟ ɥɔunן ǝɯos ןɐǝʇs oʇ ƃuıoƃ sɐʍ I„

˙ʞɔɐq ʇɥƃıɟ oʇ ʎƃɹǝuǝ ǝɥʇ pɐɥ ʎǝɥʇ uǝɥʍ ǝuoǝɯos ƃuısɐǝʇ pǝʞıן ǝH ˙op ʇ,upןnoʍ ʇɐɥʇ 'ןןǝM ˙pǝuʍoɹɟ ǝɥ puɐ 'pǝpɐɟ ɹǝʇɥƃnɐן s,ıɥɔıʞoʞ ˙punoɹƃ ǝɥʇ ʇɐ ʎןpǝʇɔǝɾǝp ƃuıʞooן 's,ıɥɔıʞoʞ ɯoɹɟ ʎɐʍɐ ʞuns ǝzɐƃ ɹǝH ˙ɟןǝsɹǝɥ uo uı ƃuıןɹnɔ 'pǝɹǝdɯıɥʍ ǝɥs „¿ǝɯ ƃuısɐǝʇ noʎ ǝɹɐ ʎɥʍ uǝɥ⊥„

„˙ןןɐ ʇɐ ʎǝuoɯ ou 'ʎɐs oʇ sı ʇɐɥʇ 'oS ˙ǝuo ǝןʇʇıן 'op noʎ sɐ ʎǝuoɯ ɥɔnɯ sɐ ʇsnɾ ǝʌɐɥ I„ ˙ןןǝɟ uoıssǝɹdxǝ s,ןɹıƃ ǝɥʇ sɐ ʎןsnoıxouqo ƃuıɥƃnɐן 'pǝןʞɔɐɔ ıɥɔıʞoʞ „¡ʇou ǝsɹnoɔ ɟO ¡ɐH„

„¿pooɟ ǝʌɐɥ noʎ„

˙ʇɐɥʇ ʇɐ dn pǝʞɹǝd ןɹıƃ ǝןʇʇıן ǝɥ⊥ ˙ɟןǝsɯıɥ doʇs pןnoɔ ǝɥ ǝɹoɟǝq pǝʞsɐ ıɥɔıʞoʞ „¿ʎɹƃunɥ noʎ„

˙ƃuıʎɹɹoʍ ʇɹɐʇs oʇ ǝʌɐɥ noʎ uǝɥʍ pןoɔ ƃuıןǝǝɟ sdoʇs ǝuoǝɯos uǝɥʍ s,ʇI ˙pןoɔ ʇןǝɟ ןןıʇs ǝɥS ˙uƃıs pooƃ ɐ sɐʍ ƃuıɹǝʌıɥs ʇnq ˙ןǝʌǝן sıɥ ʇɐ ɯıɥ ʇǝǝɯ oʇ punoɹƃ ǝɥʇ uo ƃuıɹǝʌıɥs ʎsnq ooʇ sɐʍ ǝɥS ˙ƃuıʞɔɐן ʎןǝɹos sɐʍ ןɹıƃ sıɥʇ ʇɐɥʇ ʎƃɹǝuǝ uɐ ɥʇıʍ ƃuıɯɯıɹq 'pǝsɐǝʇ ǝɥ „¿ɐʎ oʇ ʇı s,ʇɐɥM„

˙unɹ ǝɥʇ uo ʇuǝʍ ʇsɹıɟ ıɥɔıʞoʞ uǝɥʍ uɐɥʇ ɹǝƃunoʎ ɥɔnɯ ʇ,usɐʍ ǝɥs 'zǝǝſ ˙ɔıʇǝɥʇɐd puɐ ƃuıɹǝʌınb ǝɔıoʌ 'pǝʞsɐ ǝɥs „¿noʎ ǝɹɐ oɥM-M„

„¿ɐןןǝɹqɯn uɐ ɟo pɹɐǝɥ ɹǝʌǝ noʎ ʇ,uǝʌɐH„ ˙ǝuoq ǝɥʇ oʇ pǝʞɐos 'ƃuıɹǝʌıɥs puɐ ɯıɥ ʇɐ dn ƃuıɹɐʇs 'puɐʇsɹǝpun oʇ pǝɯǝǝs ǝɥS ˙ɥsıןƃuƎ uı ƃuıʞɐǝds 'ɹǝɥ ʇɐ uʍop pǝɹǝǝus ıɥɔıʞoʞ „'ʎƃƃos ǝɹ,noʎ 'zǝǝſ„ ˙ɯıɥ ʇɐ dn ƃuıʞooן 'pǝɹǝʌıɥs ǝɥS ˙ʞɔǝu puɐ ǝɔɐɟ ɹǝɥ oʇ ƃuıƃuıןɔ puɐ pǝʞɐos ɹıɐɥ ǝpuoןq 'pןo sɹɐǝʎ ɹnoɟ ǝɹǝɯ ɐ ʇɐ 'ɹǝɥ punoɟ ǝɥ uǝɥʍ sɐʍ ʇɐɥ⊥ ˙puǝ ɹǝʌǝu oʇ pǝɯǝǝs ʇɐɥʇ uıɐɹ ɟo ɹnoduʍop ǝɥʇ ʇno ƃuıʞɔoןq ʎןǝɹɐq 'pɐǝɥ sıɥ ɹǝʌo pooɥ ɐ pɐɥ ǝH ˙sɥʇɐd ǝuoʇsǝןqqoɔ ʇsuıɐƃɐ ƃuıuǝʇsıןƃ uıɐɹ 'sʎɐʍʎǝןןɐ uɐǝdoɹnƎ ɟo ʇno puɐ uı ƃuıʞɔnp uǝǝq pɐɥ ǝH ˙ƃuoן ɹoɟ punoɹɐ ƃuıʞɔıʇs ʇ,usɐʍ ǝH ˙ɹǝʇʇɐɯ ʇ,upıp ʇı ʇnq 'ǝɔɐןd ʇsɹıɟ ǝɥʇ uı uopuo˥ oʇ ʇoƃ ǝɥ ʍoɥ ɹǝqɯǝɯǝɹ ʎןןɐǝɹ ʇ,upıp ıɥɔıʞoʞ ˙sǝɔɐןd ןןɐ ɟo 'uopuo˥ uı sʇǝǝɹʇs ǝɥʇ uo ʇɟǝן 'ɯıɥ uɐɥʇ ɹǝƃunoʎ 'ןɹıƃ ǝןʇʇıן ʎʇɹıp ɐ sɐʍ ǝɥS

˙uɐɥɔ-ıɯƎ ʇǝɯ ǝɥ ןıʇu∩ ˙sʇǝǝɹʇs ǝɥʇ uo ʎoq ssǝןǝɯɐu ∀ ˙sɐʍ ǝɥ oɥʍ sɐʍ ʇɐɥ⊥ ˙sǝıʇıʇuǝpı uʍo sıɥ 'sǝɯɐu uʍo sıɥ dn ǝʞɐɯ pןnoʍ ǝH ˙ʞןɐʍ oʇ ɥƃnouǝ pןo sɐʍ ǝɥ ǝɔuıs unɹ ǝɥʇ uo uǝǝq pɐɥ ǝH ˙sɐʍ uǝʌǝ ǝɯɐu ןɐǝɹ sıɥ ʇɐɥʍ ɹo 'ǝɹǝɥʍ ɹo 'pǝʇɹɐʇs ǝɥ ʍoɥ ɐǝpı ou pɐɥ ǝH ˙ɹǝqɯǝɯǝɹ ʇ,usǝop ǝɥ '(ʇıns ƃuoɹʇs s,ıɥɔıʞoʞ ʇou sı ɥɔıɥʍ) ʇsǝuoɥ ǝq o⊥ ˙ɥʇnɹʇ ǝɥʇ sɐʍ ʇı ɟo ǝuou 'ǝɹǝɥʍ ɹǝʇʇɐɯ ʇ,upıp ʇI ˙ɐıqɹnqns uı dn ʍǝɹƃ ǝɥ ǝqʎɐɯ ɹO ˙ʎɹʇunoɔ puɐןsı ןןɐɯs ɐ ɟo uǝǝnb puɐ ƃuıʞ ǝɥʇ 'sʇuǝɹɐd sıɥ ɥʇıʍ dn ʍǝɹƃ ǝɥ ǝqʎɐɯ ɹO ˙ǝƃɐuɐɥdɹo uɐ uı dn ʍǝɹƃ ıɥɔıʞoʞ

Plprxsr Lnz, kzigrxrkzmg lu gsv urugb gsriw proormt tznv, ufgfiv kzigrxrkzmg lu gsv urugb ulfigs proormt tznv, szw mvevi yvvm ovhh kivkzivw rm srh oruv. Plprxsr szw z kozm uli vevibgsrmt, sv dzh mvevi tlrmt gl yv hlnvlmv xzftsg luu tfziw. Sv szw yzxpfkh uli srh yzxpfkh. Yfg Wzmtzmilmkz rh zm lyhgzxov. Sv xzm'g kivwrxg dszg droo szkkvm rm gsv hrnfozgrlm. Sv xzm'g xlmgilo sld sv droo gsrmp. Srh nvnlirvh droo yv drkvw, sv dlm'g ivnvnyvi srh tlzo. Gsrh dzh tlrmt gl yv srh yrttvhg xszoovmtv bvg.

"R'n hfikirhvw blf hgroo gzpv ivjfvhgh," Plprxsr hmvvivw, drmxrmt zh gsv mvvwov krvixvw srh hprm uli gsv urihg grnv. "Zmw R'n hfikirhvw hlnvlmv zh ulinzo zh blf pmldh sld gl trev hlnvlmv z gzggll."

"R wrwm'g zxxvkg gsv ivjfvhg yvxzfhv R'n z nzrw," Prifnr hrtsvw, drvowrmt gsv gzggll tfm nzwv lu hxizk nvwrxzo vjfrknvmg. Plprxsr szw Nrf dsrk rg fk. Rg dzhm'g zh ivurmvw zh z kilkvi tfm, yfg rg droo wl, xlmhrwvirmt gsv hrgfzgrlm. Plprxsr dzh hzg lm srh slhkrgzo yvw, kzizobavw ovth ornkob wzmtormt luu gsv hrwv. Prifnr hgllw yvhrwv srn, trmtviob slowrmt srh zin. "Yfg lu xlfihv R pmld sld gl trev z gzggll. R dzh dirggvm gl xlnkovgv zonlhg zmb gzhp zhpvw lu nv."

"Xlnvh rm szmwb!" Plprxsr drmxvw ztzrm zh Prifnr kfoovw gsv tfm zdzb. Gsv urihg dliw dzh zoivzwb xlnkovgv, yfg gsviv dviv hgroo z xlfkov nliv gl tl. "R'n tlmmz ollp hl yzwzhh drgs z gzggll!"

"R pmld gszg'h mlg dsb blf'iv szermt nv wl gsrh," Prifnr hrtsvw. "Yfg R hzrw R dzmgvw rm lm blfi kozmh, hl R droo wl dszg R nfhg."

"Bvh, blf'iv z tllw orggov nrmrlm rm gizrmrmt," Plprxsr trttovw. "Blf'oo dlip blfi dzb fk rm ml grnv zg zoo! Blf ivnvnyvi dszg R dzmg blf gl wl, irtsg?"

"Lu xlfihv, R ivnvnyvi rg zoo," Prifnr hzrw. "Rg'h irhpb, blf pmld. Vevm nlivhl uli Nzpr gszm nv."

"Blf gdl ziv gsv lmob lmvh dsl xzm wl rg," Plprxsr vckozrmvw. "Yvhrwvh, ylgs lu blf ziv nrmrlm slkvufoh, blf hzrw hl blfihvou."

"R wrwm'g jfrgv dliw rg gszg dzb, yfg hfiv. Blf xzm gifhg fh, Plprxsr. Dv'oo szev blf yzxp. Blf dlm'g yv ovug zolmv rm gsviv."

Prifnr'h dliwh dviv dzin, vzimvhg. Hsv dzh gvoormt gsv gifgs, Plprxsr xlfow gvoo. Sv xlfow zodzbh gvoo. Sv yldvw srh svzw z yrg, gl srwv gsv hortsg hnrov gszg gfttvw zg srh orkh.

Gsrh dzh tlrmt gl yv srh yrttvhg gvhg lu uzrgs zmw gifhg bvg. Zmw wznm srn, sv zxgfzoob yvorvevw gsvb xlfow kfoo gsrh luu.

You want to end the killing game.

You want to end the killing game.

You want to end the killing game.

You want to end the killing game.

You want to end the killing game.

You want to end the killing game.

You want to end the killing game, it's right there in your skin. Written in ink, permanent, you want to end the killing game.

You need to end the killing game.

You need to end the killing game, Kokichi.

Kokichi.

Kokichi, can you hear me?

K̶̻̗̍͒̐̈́̈́ǫ̸̝̲̜͕͐̈́͠k̷̡̖̖̞̙̦̾̽̂̉í̸̡͍̦̝c̴͍͕̦̗̣̹̍͒̋̚ḧ̷̹͚̳͑i̶̡̨̼̺̽̓̓,̸̺͐̔̈̀̑͝ ̵͉̈̿c̸̛̟̭͈̪̮̽̑̀̕͝a̵̡̝̠̭̤̎n̷͔̞̘̔͒̉̏ ̷̺̯̌̈̊̅ͅy̷͍̍͌ơ̴̦̺̙͈̱̫̌̾͋́͠u̴̡̅̀̈́́̒̕ ̸̭̫̩̑̈̐̌́͠h̷͔͆̀̑̌͊́ḛ̴̛̘͔͙̣͓a̶͎̽r̵̙̐̆̌̽̈́ ̴̛̤̫͔͕̩͉̚m̶̳̈́͘͝e̴̩͖̽̅̓?̷͎̰͙̥͊͛͊̿

It's dangerous in there.

You need to wake up.

Kokichi, it's me, it's Ķ̵̨̢̧̛̰̠̥̳̩̥̪͚̫̱̫͍̲͙͖͓͖͍͔̬̗͙͈̞̤͇̮̝̱͖͖̯̺̼̱͙̾͊̉̐̌̃̔́͌̋͆̽̄̀̏̉͌̒̉̾̏̉͂̉̒͊̉̋͊͋͛͑̂̕̚̕̚͝͠͝i̸̧̨̧̡̛̞̮̥̲̭̞̤̗̖͕͇̤̘̣̠͕̥͔͇͚̣̙̠͕̪͍͔̟̞̮̩̻̓̔̂̈́̄̽̾̈́͆̅̅͐͌͋͒̐͗͊͆̀̿̍̃̏̔̄̈́͐̒̇̈́̈̄̏͘̕̕͜͝͠͝͝ͅͅͅi̸̡̧̡̥̩̹̪̖̱̻̮̰̰̜̲̙̬̺͚̞͚̗̳̞̰̼̬̱̺͚̟̩͍̳̜̼̼̬͈͋́̑̓͂͂͑́̏ͅͅͅb̶̡̧̛̛̠̘̬̬̝̮̮̘͍͉̫̺͍̭͖̥̪̮̙͔̬̱̙̯̹̱̞̭̥̱͗͗̓̍̈́̃̔̏́ͅờ̷̘̩̲̻̦̦̪̪̣͇̗̫͂͒̈́̏̔̋͌̐͋̕͝

You need to get out of here.

Kokichi.

Kokichi.

Kokichi!

Kokichi!

End the killing game!

Can you hear me?