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Chapter Text

Kyoko knew this was a very, very bad idea. 

As she stood in front of the A/V Room in near-total silence, she internally weighed the possibilities of going along with her original plan: confront the Mastermind and convince them to put an end to the Killing Game. The Ultimate Detective learned whom she was alongside her recollection on whom the Mastermind was, and with one sideward glance at the Escape Button in her right, gloved hand, the lavender-haired girl sighed and shook her head. 

This was a really bad idea. She knew this all too well. Then again, what other choice did she have? She was trapped in a Killing Game with 15 other people and only having her own wits about her. It really started innocently enough; Makoto was kind enough, in an attempt to diffuse tensions between everyone, invite Kyoko over to using the lottery machine in the School Store… only to get their hands on the Escape Button. The second she

touched it, memories flooded back by the deluge; she remembered who she was, where she came from, and exactly what she was meant to do before all of this started. 

In particular, she remembered about the Tragedy that she witnessed beforehand. Admittedly, everything regarding that is rightfully a major blank, but a part of Kyoko wondered if that wasn’t for the best. 

She sighed, biting her lip. “Steel yourself, Kyoko,” she said in an even tone, “if you don’t confront Junko now, you’d have failed everyone.” God, how she hated that word. Failure. But she knew there’d be more of it if she didn’t act and apprehend the Mastermind, lest everyone else suffer for her inaction. If there’s one thing she despises, it’s knowing about the suffering of others and doing nothing to assist in such; she can attest as well as anyone that everything she could do in the endangerment of others comes first from inaction. She had to act, lest things escalate further. 

With a knowing sigh, Kyoko input the secret bricks to give way to the Mastermind’s lair.

“…and then I was like ‘Bitch, don’t you tell me what I should fuckin’ do!’ And then I blew the sorry sod’s brains out! God, Mucky-butt, you should’ve seen that sorry faggot’s brains get spattered everywhere!” 

Junko was breathless as she cackled, but Mukuro nonetheless maintained her poker face all the same. Nonetheless, Junko finished regaling her encounter with some late-stage capitalists during the uglier bits of the Tragedy, and in incandescent glee, Junko spun her seat around before further hugging her plushy. 

“Sister, with all due respect, do you mind to tell me what you’ve stopped my involvement with the other students for?” Mukuro, much as she wanted to humor Junko’s whimsies, was still quite straight-laced with her twin sibling. “I could’ve compromised myself if somebody saw me on the way back here!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatevs, pumpkin. You oughta know that’s only how despair, works.” The twin-tailed strawberry blonde gave a mirthful giggle. “Lest I stick it to your cute little ass, hmm?” 

Mukuro blushed, actively fighting away those desires. “…much as I’d appreciate it, I think you’ve noticed as well as I do there’s someone sneaking over yonder there.” 

“Which is exactly why I brought you over, my sweet, ugly duckling.” Junko filed her nails, grinning all the while. “To act as my eyes and ears.” 

The rustling, almost as if on cue, stopped. 

Junko snorted, rolling her eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, if you’re gonna sneak around, at least do a good fucking job at it! C’mon out, you idiot!” 

A brief pause, as Kyoko internally cursed. (…well, that didn’t go as planned. But I’m close enough; I might as well take the moment to – ) 

Mukuro, almost as if on cue, lifted up a Glock to directly aim over at the hiding spot. “On the count of three, I shoot. One… two – “ 

“Wait! Wait.” 

Quickly wanting to prevent herself becoming riddled with bullets, Kyoko stood up, raising her hands in the air. “It’s… me. Junko, we need to talk.” 

It was almost impressive how Kyoko gave virtually no tells nor showed even a sliver of nervousness in her voice, all while Mukuro pointed her gun. Junko simply laughed. 

“Holy shit, ain’t you a ballsy one? Wouldn’t be shocked you’re packing somethin’ down under, ya nasty shemale!” Junko grinned, before suddenly becoming utterly serious. “Mukuro, be a dear and restrain her.” 

The Ultimate Soldier did not even need to force Kyoko down on the ground for the swift klik of two different handcuffs, one hand each cuffed to a different pipe. That was the sheer scale of difference between Mukuro’s prowess and Kyoko’s: for all of the Ultimate Detective’s belief in not giving

an inch to truly horrible people, the difference in strength between Mukuro and Kyoko was like comparing a tiger and a kitten; they may be of the same species by loose definition, but the difference in fortitude was so great it was almost on a whole different playing field… and that’s what made it so nerve-wracking. 

Regardless, Kyoko was forced to kneel with her arms firmly restrained. It only took no less of a second for Kyoko to bitterly acknowledge any hope she had of talking her way out of this one was lost… she cursed herself, and nonetheless steeled herself into an impenetrable poker face at Junko’s mocking stare. 

“Alright, let’s just get straight to brass tacks, sweetheart.” Junko said smiling, as sickly as a poisonous snake. “Why did you trot your slim little asscrack all the way out where the adults play?” 

Kyoko gave no response. She simply glared. 

It only took a few more moments of continued silence before Junko groaned. “Oh, fuck me sideways, this isn’t gonna work. Alright, change of plans…” 

Junko got up from her seat. Slowly, she walked over to Kyoko with an intent easily confusable with murder in her eyes, but anyone who knew Junko well knows she would plan something a lot worse. Regardless, Junko leaned over to the squatting Kyoko, towering over her given the physical dynamic here, and grinned. 

“Now listen here, toots,” Junko began. “you’ve caught me in a good mood today that I don’t necessarily want to ruin. So I’m going to give you a choice here: you can either feel free to take an amnestic and forget everything you’ve seen up to this point, or you can bear the knowledge you have now, because fuck do I know you’ll sing as soon as you get the chance. Regardless, one choice will allow you to give you the capacity to work with a semblance of normalcy in your Killing School life… or I can put you into a state of such unrivaled emotional agony that you’ll beg me to stop, and I won’t stop. Because you made your choice long ago.”

“Think about your choice carefully now, my little dove,” Junko finished. “Because the choice you make will determine if you go free, or will forever have a jackboot stomp you into dust… and it never ending.” 

Kyoko simply glared, giving an automatic, robotic response. “I’d sooner die than ignore the threat that is you.” 

Kyoko made her choice. 

Junko made her choice as well; kneeling on one knee she simply motioned her hand up to Kyoko’s skirt and gave an upward flick. Kyoko flinched for a split second at the unwanted touch, before smirking. 

“Oi, Mukie. Get your sugar mama some aphrodisiacs, why dont’cha!” Junko grinned. “I’m gonna get to work.” 

…what? 

Kyoko’s mind went into overdrive for a second upon realizing what it means, and nearly immediately, attempted a struggle. Which was hard, given she was forced to squat by how low the cuffs hung, as she couldn’t even kick; Junko simply smirked more as she laughed. 

“Ooh, you’re a fighter, hmm? I like you.” Junko smirked. “Just relax; this is going to be good.” 

In that moment, Junko subtly went underneath Kyoko’s skirt and slid in two fingers – one her index finger, the other her middle. And it went straight past the labia of Kyoko’s, not even considering the fact it hasn’t even been properly lubricated. 

Kyoko felt a flush overcome her face as she grunted in pain, looking away and not even daring to give Junko the satisfaction of her strained eyes and brief flickers of pain on her face. She’s not embarrassed to admit she’s a virgin in any capacity, having never had sex with anyone nor cared to. This was still a weird feeling though, but it felt so wrong all the same… Kyoko’s stomach did knots with each unnatural push, the grating of her fingers

giving way to small, pained gasps as she desperately tried to free herself to virtually no avail. 

It wasn’t long before she felt a wave of arousal come over her, and soon enough – to her everlasting shame – she was fully wet. This wasn’t even necessarily her fault, given Junko began pawing at her clitoris just a few seconds ago. She didn’t even notice the flurry of coarse discussion between 

Junko and Mukuro before feeling a needle shoot into her neckbone’s vein, gasping as she felt a flurry of burning hot sensations fire up her loins. 

“What is…” Kyoko whimpered, breathless. “…that?” 

“Oh, my dear little Kyo-chan…” Junko smirked. “That was merely an aphrodisiac.” 

Things became far moister after that… and far sicker . Kyoko tried to wrangle away while valiantly trying to maintain her iron composure, looking away and grunting softly with each unnatural push. Kyoko always liked to consider herself immune to the rigors of stress thanks to her self training, but even this was too much for her; she was being fingered against her will. Nonetheless, Kyoko succeeded in shedding not a single tear, though her soul and heart was raging like a violent maelstrom within. 

The confusing and despicable flurry of emotions building up with her coalesced into primal desire and agony, love and hate, pain and pleasure, as she was desperate to ignore the painful burning she felt underneath her nethers. But it ended for the most part. With a final push, Kyoko uttered the smallest of whimpers before she came onto Junko’s hands. 

If it wasn’t the stimulation, it was the feeling of being brought to her first orgasm that made tears prick in Kyoko’s eyes. She felt embarrassed! This was wrong, no matter how you put it, and the sickened feeling in Kyoko’s stomach continued to built up as she still continued to maintain her mask. But as she whimpered some more as Junko’s pushing, the Ultimate 

Fashionista simply grinned. 

“Felt good, didn’t it? That a cheap, two-bit floozy like yourself got off to being fingered in front of others?” Junko clicked her tongue, smirking

devilishly. “How sad, Failure-chan. How sad.” 

“I… that’s…” Kyoko breathed, feeling fingers slide in and out of her. “Shut… up.” 

“Oh, baby, you know I’m right. Don’t lie to yourself.” Junko grinned even more. 

‘If you looked in the mirror right now as you were being fucked, what would you see? A worthless, piece-of-shit dyke whore begging to be fucked’. Kyoko, even in her primal state of fear of unwanted stimulation, could tell that’s what Junko would’ve said to her as she continue to feel her labia and clitoris toyed with every unwanted push. And it only took then, as she was completely flushed in her own unwanted liquids, a third ring finger slide in as she arched her head back and grunted. This was wrong, this was above her, she was not going to – 

“Oh, Failure-chan?~” Junko smirked in a sing-along voice. “You’re going to cum. And that’s if you want it or not.” 

“Shut… up.” Kyoko breathed. “I’m not going to – “ 

Any coherent thoughts that were coursing through her head crashed and burned as Junko gestured Mukuro to hold her down, and she began plowing. Kyoko grunted, thrashing around as she tried to not peer into Junko’s eyes, but the ping of utter degradation continued to hit her like a freight train. She bucked her hips and she dared not to peer into Junko’s almost-hellish orbs, because that’s what she was, a demon, a monster, she didn’t deserve this and didn’t want to be here – 

“You know, this is all your fault.” 

Kyoko felt herself brought back to Earth as she came, hearing Junko’s cutting words as it branded itself deep onto her own soul. As she sat there, breathless and horrified, she felt the realization Junko had easily tore past any barriers she had to unequivocally ravage her, whether she wanted it or not. Even if it was for a glimpse of a second, for Kyoko fortified her mask just as quickly, she felt horrified that Junko played with her so demeaningly.

It took a look to the pooling, translucent mess of nectar surrounding her for her to realize she came a lot. 

Feeling tears prick in her eyes, she looked away, frustrated. “…this is all your fault.” 

Junko smirked. “I don’t think you get it, pookums. This is on you. And I don’t care how much you’ll beg to stop, I will hurt you. Pushing the red-hot iron deep into your heart, y’know?” 

Kyoko said nothing. In a futile attempt to establish dominion over her own body, Kyoko glared. 

Junko smirked, satisfied. “I think we’re done here. Mukuro, give her a sed and bring her back to her room. I think we’ve got ourselves a rhythm going.” 

Kyoko felt sickened. She wasn’t anywhere near feeling actually ill, thankfully, but she still felt disgusted. As she sat there in stunned silence, she realized forthwith the kinds of sweet, poisoned pains Junko could bring onto her… and it scorched at her soul, far hotter than what was her greatest mistake and two scars. But almost as if as a misplaced act of mercy, she felt another needle be jabbed into her vein, and slowly felt herself lulled to sleep. 

She had no respite from the mental nausea, though, especially as Junko kissed and tongued the detective as she was lulled to sleep by the sedative.

“Sister, I don’t think it was a good idea to let her go. We could’ve just easily killed her then and there.” Mukuro said that with nary a miss of concern in her voice, clearly worried about a potential loose end. 

“Oh, fret not! I have everything under control, Mucky-butt.” Junko said, spinning her chair around; she still reeked from the primal scent Kyoko bore, and she reveled in it. “I assure you that things are only gonna get so much worse for our pretentious little fuckstick, that much I’ll assure you.”

Mukuro paused, thinking. “Yet you still will have time for me, I take it? I can only guess what you’ll do to her…” 

“…and ya want in on the piece, I know, ya filthy masochistic sow.” Mukuro shuddered in delight as Junko stood up. “But I know, for all her fucking retardation, she’s a big girl. God knows she can take a few hits like a champ and then some… but everyone has something that makes them tick. And the only reason why I’m even doing this, well…” 

Junko sniggered. “Mukuro, let’s just say the game was rigged from the start.” 

The Ultimate Soldier frowned. “…you planned for Kyoko to obtain the Reset Button, didn’t you?” 

“Correct!” Junko did a fist-pump before cackling. “And it’ll all go down like a fresh Saturday shot of wine. I don’t doubt that we’re going to be seeing a lot more shit down the road, and believe me, I look forward to it. Because you know what we stand for, right?” 

“Of course.” Mukuro said with a smile. “Despair.” 

Junko did clasp her hands and cackle; she leaned in to the camera of Kyoko’s dorm, as she remained asleep… entirely unaware of the kinds of horrors that Junko very eagerly sought to test on her, all with one motivation in mind. 

Fear. 

Chapter Text

Kyoko doesn’t drink. Nevermind her being underage, even when she’ll get old enough to be able to legally drink, she’d see any mind-altering substances as an unnecessary hindrance on her skills as a detective. If she really wanted to feel destressed, coffee will suit those needs just fine for her. But upon waking up to the clarion of hell that poured into her skull like a fiery spear, she immediately thought one thing: 

…so, this is what a hangover feels like. 

Kyoko grunted upon waking up on her own bed, all with a splitting migraine. She clutched her head as she felt dizzy, not even wanting to know what ingredients were in the chemical cocktail that Junko injected her with. Groaning for a second as she stumbled, she did her best not to remember the events of the day before, where she was molested by – 

…oh. That. 

Kyoko felt sick in her stomach just thinking about it. She really did hope Junko was bluffing when she said she’d make everything all the worse for her, but… no. She couldn’t allow that. Junko had to be stopped. 

Walking over to the bathroom, the turbulence in Kyoko’s stomach settled down long enough for her to begin with a shower. After scrubbing every crevice thoroughly (and she wanted to rid her body of Junko’s filthy fingers, for sure), she waltzed over to the bathroom and rinsed water all over her face. A pause occurred therein, where she had a moment to look herself in the mirror.

For one, she was far more disheveled than Kyoko would ever want to present herself as. She took a comb and stroller and got to work, finally curling her washed hair into several straight lines, before breathing a sigh of relief. To stabilize herself amidst the resurgence of her migraine, Kyoko placed both her hands on the sink’s edged and sighed. 

“Calm down. Whatever happened last night… ignore it, Kyoko.” The detective said that through gritted teeth. “You’re fine. You can do this. Just ignore everything that’s happened.” 

…no, she wasn’t fine. She can’t ignore what happened. She loathes to admit, but every inch Junko fiercely explored in her was etched into her mind, and the thought of what she did to her made her lurch a bit. Feeling a wave of tears coming up, she shook her head, took a deep breath… and sought to move on with her day, as if nothing happened. 

… 

“…wait, how am I in my own room again?” 

Kyoko’s dawning comprehension was interrupted by a flurry of knocks outside. 

“Um, Kyoko? Are you busy? I, err… wanna talk.” 

Kyoko recognized that voice as Makoto’s. Bearing a small smile, just hearing the hopelessly-idealistic boy’s voice put some of her nausea to rest, and she didn’t waste any time getting dressed. In equally-short order, after a few minutes cleaning herself up for presentation, she walked to the door and opened in. 

Makoto was there, smiling innocently. But his face quickly turned to a frown. “…Kyoko, something wrong? …you don’t look yourself.” 

Kyoko glanced away, giving no facial cues whatsoever. “It’s nothing. I assume you’re visiting for a reason?”

“Umm, yeah. That, and Taka’s throwing a fit over your absence.” An awkward laugh. “I mean, I get that you like to do things on your own, but, uh – “ 

“Well, I’ll report there if that’s all that’s needed of me. Rest assured, I can take care of myself.” Kyoko said with nary a flick of emotion in her voice. “I suppose that’s all?” 

“…well, uh. Ahem…” Makoto cleared his throat. “We have another orientation with Monokuma.” 

Just thinking about whom Junko’s robotic avatar was gave a correlation that triggered a lurch in Kyoko’s stomach, but she fought it down and gave nothing away. “…I see. I can’t imagine it would be anything good.” 

“Yeah, I feel the same.” An awkward laugh emerged from Makoto. “Uhhh, shall we get going? I can accompany you if you don’t feel well.” 

A pause. Kyoko weighed the benefits, before smiling softly. “…you mustn’t worry about me. Worry about yourself first, Makoto.” 

Makoto winced, nervously laughing. “Ahah, uh… am I really that vulnerable of a target…?” 

Kyoko smiled. “Perhaps. But I’ll make sure you remain safe, no matter what.” 

She knew that what she said amounted little more to chest-thumping, but anything to keep the dark thoughts in her head locked up, she would take. Makoto smiled and offered his hand. 

“Anyways… shall we get going?”

Breakfast proved to be an uneventful diversion, one that held no such fanfare of joy to it like it usually did. The threat Monokuma’s made clear over the dangers of the Killing Game was something everyone had no illusions over… and it did little to upset the bad mood Kyoko bore forth at

the moment. Nonetheless, everyone was brought to the gym soon after, all while Monokuma was giving his ovation about several… changes. 

“Wait, what do you mean you’re putting the Killing Game on hold?!” Aoi cried out; she wasn’t disappointed by the news at all, but still. “Wasn’t the point of gathering us here to kill each other…?!” 

“More or less! But, ah, it’s doubly worth noting that there have been some unforeseen events with some of you.” Monokuma said, with a sigh that seemed deafened to the murmurs going around the 15 other students. “So until further notice, the Killing Game is off! If you do kill somebody, you’ll be punished, and no trial will be held!” 

“So wait… wouldn’t that only mean we get to go home?” Leon said, a tint of confusion in his voice. 

Byakuya glared towards the red-head wannabe rocker. “You idiot! Why would they abandon the Killing Game when they went through the trouble to gather us here in the first place?!” 

“Much as I loathe to say it, Togami-kun has a point." Celestia said with a slight pause, pursing her lips. "It seems strange to acknowledge that the person who wanted us to kill each other would let us go. Frankly, this makes me only more worried what’s in store for the future.” 

“Aww…” Leon pouted. “Can’t ya let a guy hope?” 

“W-Well, there’s no points lost for optimism, at least!” Chihiro said, the small girl nervously laughing. “…though I honestly just wonder even more about what’s going on…” 

The chatter, truthfully, made Kyoko nervous. She didn’t even want to consider what others may think of her if she’s the one who held up the Killing Game through her own predicament. Gently gnawing on her lower lip, she simply turned around and remained silent the whole time. 

Makoto, however, proved himself keen, his voice full of concern for her friend. “…Kyoko, I know something’s wrong. What is it?”

Kyoko said nothing, steeling herself. “I assure you, it’s nothing. If it was, you think I wouldn’t try to tell you about it?” 

Monokuma simply ignored the miscellaneous chatter among the students and smirked, giving a guffawing laugh. “Alright, I think that just about wraps up this orientation! Behave while the Killing Game is on hold, you bastards! Bwahahahahahaha!” 

And just like that, Monokuma vanished. 

It didn't take long for everyone to disperse… all but Makoto and Kyoko. Makoto, in his infinite kindness, remained static and looked over at Kyoko. But the awkward silence in the midst of all this nonetheless proved impenetrable. Kyoko bit her lip, before realizing being cowed to silence is exactly what Junko would want. 

In that moment, though, she brought out a pad of paper. She then scribbled something onto it and showed it directly to Makoto. 

“…I know who the mastermind is, Makoto.” 

Makoto, who was just ready to leave, turned to Kyoko in wild surprise. Immediately having the pen given to him, he began scribbling himself. “What?! You do?” 

…no going back now, it seems. Kyoko bitterly joked about that in her head, before she continued writing. “…yes. And they… they captured me. And their name is…” 

Kyoko gritted her teeth in genuine hatred. This was her last chance to back out of this. Her only chance. But if she didn’t ask, people would die. And she would never forgive herself if it came to that. 

“Junko Enoshima.” 

It took Makoto a second to process that, just trying to understand the implications of everything. His jaw was agape, even for a second… but that

marked the moment before the questions began to emerge within Makoto’s mind; he quickly scribbled them out. 

“Wait a moment. Can you tell me why exactly you didn’t tell everyone while Monokuma was away?” 

Kyoko sighed. In that moment, she wrote down some more, before finally transcribing her message. “Because I’m not going to put them at risk. Makoto, you’re the one I can trust with this, both with the secret and out of mutual trust. I need you to take my word on everything and understand that I know Junko’s the mastermind… and if you’ll follow me, I’ll be happy to show you exactly where their hideout is.” 

Makoto paused, his lip trembling; he grabbed the pen and voiced his concerns. “Kyoko, what did she do to you?” 

Kyoko looked less than flattered as she finished her next reply. “…I’m not talking about that. But that’s irrelevant still.” 

She sighed, capping off her response with an additional addendum. “Makoto, I’ll ask this once. Will you help me or not?” 

Makoto took a long moment to think about what the mysterious detective transcribed; he would be scared to meet the person who very clearly did something to his friend, and knew bad things would happen if they entered in unabated. But it wasn’t long before Makoto, slowly, nodded and added his response. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll help you out. Whatever plan you have for us to take down Junko… we need to act now, before things get out of hand.” 

Kyoko nodded, looking completely serious. The page was nearly full, so she flipped it over and simply wrote one thing on the back: 

“Then follow me. We need to discuss this elsewhere.” 

With that said, Kyoko walked off and left the gym. Makoto quickly trailed off after here, still questioning just what it was that Kyoko sought to keep

tight-lipped over. Whatever it was, odds were it was something very duplicitous and ugly. 

Both, however, remained ignorant to the camera that zoomed in on the transcriptions, catching every instance of conversation written between the two.

Makoto scarcely considered himself a detective. He didn’t even so much as dare to think himself on the level of ingenuity Kyoko regularly displayed, especially with that transcription the two wound up sharing. But even if he was average in every possible way, he still was quick to acknowledge five simple facts that became apparent through his offhand observations: 

#1: There were, from the brief peeks under Kyoko’s sleeves, several angry red scars marking her wrists. It almost looked like as though they were handcuff scars, which held some very duplicitous implications for what had to have occurred. 

#2: Makoto noticed a lot of what Kyoko did or said in general sounded… hurt. Really hurt, in a way. Kyoko wasn't the kind of person who was hurt easily, nor was she one to show any notable dips in her mood. Makoto couldn't help but fear that whatever happened, it was bad. 

#3: She looked nauseated. This was in conjunction with his second observation, and only made Makoto all the more concerned. 

#4: This morning when Makoto sought to retrieve Kyoko, he noticed the girl… grunting in pain? As if she had a migraine of some sort… whatever the case was, he knew that after Junko did what she did to Kyoko, it had to have been bad enough that it involved substance abuse. 

#5: Kyoko was excellent at feigning self-assurance.

Chapter Text

The class bell rung, and everyone rather quickly went on their way. Kyoko remained present to ask the teacher a few questions regarding what he had planned for future tests and pop quizzes – not that this wasn’t anything Kyoko couldn’t spontaneously do, given her advanced intellect. 

As it stood, World History was also her academic blind spot in spite of consistently garnering high honors (Kyoko never fancied herself as someone interested in politics), and she was academically on-level to Makoto… which was funny, given they shared this as the one time they have any sort of adjacent curriculums. 

Kyoko flicked her hand and sat there in her seat, brooding. She could list several ethical problems that can be rightfully pointed out with Hope’s Peak, namely how hypocritical it was. Claims to be a testament to the hopeful future of mankind, forces the ‘Talentless’ to pay extra for the right to be second-class in this school society. There wasn’t even an organized system how Hope’s Peak all started, and Kyoko – much as she wanted to point out the intrinsic flaws directly to her father – existed in such an estranged and complicated relationship with Jin that Kyoko doesn’t know how much of a difference she’d make. Or if she even wants to confront that particular branch of information. 

There was too little data to really go on to make a move. 

“Hey, uh, Kyoko. You doing okay?” 

Makoto would’ve been the second to last to leave the class, but he felt inclined to stay for his good friend. Kyoko froze for a moment and glanced back at Makoto, only to give a genuinely relaxed smile.

“Not well, I’m afraid.” Contrary to her previous brooding, she was still happy to see Makoto reached out to her and continued smiling. Of course, all things came to an end; Kyoko soon enveloped into a frown. “I don’t think I’ll have to tell you, but I’m wondering how I could approach the topic of how the school treats its Reserve Course Students… if Principal Jin would be even willing to consider it.” 

Makoto frowned. “I know. To be honest, I’m wondering why I’m not part of the Reserve Course based on pure luck. That seems like an awfully weird talent if you ask me…” 

Kyoko chuckled. “Nothing happens by accident, Makoto. There’s always a reasonable explanation for things like ‘luck’, I feel.” 

Makoto beamed, feeling relieved Kyoko sympathized with him. “Right?! Like, it’s hard to explain, but it sometimes feels like being the ‘Ultimate Lucky Student’ is all made up. Like… fake. I don’t think I have any discerning talents like Togami’s financial expertise, or – oh, like the girl over in Class 77-B, who’s the Ultimate Photographer… or, uh…“ 

Makoto’s enthusiasm drooped the more he thought about it. “…I'm not helping my case here, am I?” 

Kyoko, unusually for such a calm and stoic person, giggled and simply got up from her seat, walked over to Makoto, and ruffled his hair in affection. Makoto was unusually short for a male, though it didn’t require anything in particular to be able to do the head gesture. 

The ‘Ultimate Lucky Student’, of course, fidgeted and blushed. “Y-You don’t have to give me even more of a bedhead than I usually have…” 

“I suppose. But I beg to differ in regards to what makes you… well. You.” Kyoko said, smiling slightly. “I think you have a lot of compassion for others, and are frankly a terrible liar – which is for all the better, as you are easy to like for that reason, Makoto.” 

Kyoko closed her eyes and chuckled. “…as well as an easy target. I do advise you watch over your back once in a while.”

“W-Whaa?! C-C’mon, Kyoko! We aren’t in a dangerous situation!” Makoto said, flustered. Of course, he realized the genuine complement of Kyoko’s words, and smiled back. “…though I can only thank you that you have such a high opinion of me, Kyoko. You’re my friend after all.” 

A pause. Kyoko, uncharacteristically, looked away and blushed. “…well. So are you.” 

An awkward pause. “…as is the rest of our Homeroom, but you especially. There needs to be people who are willing to communicate more frequently in the case of dire situations.” 

Makoto giggled. “You can say that again. But even still…” A pause. Makoto smiled at Kyoko. “Kyoko. Do you trust me?” 

Kyoko thought about this long and hard. Before she came to become irreplaceable from the other students, she never really had anyone she could depend on. Well, barring her grandfather, but he was always the exception that proved the rule. Kyoko was forced to learn by herself not to get cocky and never show any signs of weakness… relying on yourself is a first in her mind. She can only assume from then onwards, then, that she still had trust issues with the other students, even if she does consider them friends… 

…but even she has to make an exception with Makoto. 

“Yes, Makoto. Yes.” Kyoko said, smiling gently. “I trust you. Possibly more than anyone.”

“Hah! No fuckin’ wonder you fell back and defaulted to talking it out with Makoto! It’s almost as if you forgot you were in a… gasp! KILLING GAME?! Ahahahahahahaaaah!” 

Kyoko couldn’t quite see outside of the “blindfold” – an extremely generous term, given the duct tape on her eyes as she tried to wrangle with her confinement to a chair – but if there was no obstruction to her eyes,

she’d send a deathly glare at the cackling Junko. If looks could kill, there would be no more Killing Game. 

“Anyway… that just about sums up your file about what the boring parts of your time at Hope’s Peak were like. Convenient, ain’t it?” Junko smirked. “But I digress. We all know why you’re here, right? Because you pissed me off.” 

Indeed, she recalled enough to know she attempted a coup of some kind in order to bring down Junko… one that, going by her bound state, she… failed at. God, how she hated that word. But there was little to be done other than writhe and struggle for a way to slip out of the two cuffs that bind her to the chair’s wooden railing. Whatever cocktail of amnestics Junko gave to her, it wiped out what she could only assume was a day’s time of her finding a way to end it… if her biological clock was even correct. 

Regardless, Junko continued her spiel, tossing the files to the side. “Anyway, by the time you wake up after this little… therapy session , everything will be back to normal.” 

Kyoko seethed. “You’re not getting away with this, Junko.” 

“Won't I?” A faux-offended gasp. “Since when were you in control? But after this little session, well.” A dark chuckle as Kyoko heard two footsteps in conjunction with each other. “You won’t remember anything, the other fuckheads you’re trapped here won’t remember anything…” 

A snap of the fingers. A slap, synchronized perfectly with Junko ripping the tape off of Kyoko’s eyes. 

For one thing, it hurt like a motherfucker. Kyoko shrieked as the tape burn set across her eyes, mercifully shielded by what she’d only guess to be fortunate placement on her end. But even before the pain dulled, she lit up in a mere second of shock to see Makoto, cuffed to a chair much like Kyoko was, waking up to the look of gradual panic. 

And much to Kyoko’s confusion, she was seeing two Junkos.

“Junko”, despite looking infinitely more serious than the other Junko, smirked. “Seeing double?” 

“W-What?! What is this?! What’s going on?!” Makoto panicked as soon as he realized where he was. “Kyoko’s what’s happening?!” 

“Makoto, calm down.” Kyoko said, completely serious. “Panicking does no one any good. So please, take a deep breath and relax.” 

“Honestly, I’m just fucking floored that you didn’t have the good sense to figure out the ugly bitch you saw the other day was my older sister, Mukuro – and my stand-in for the Killing Game.” Junko said with a small little smirk, completely cocksure. “Meet the Ultimate Soldier; killed more people than the Plague, and not a single battle wound. Why those fucking idiots at Hope’s Peak thought it was good sense to allow a PMC Soldier into their ranks is completely beyond me.” 

Kyoko said nothing. She glared. 

Junko faux-gasped. “Ooh, the silent treatment. So scary.” As she finished those last two words with air quotes, she simply turned around behind to where Kyoko was, going directly to a poorly-lit table out of sight from where Makoto and Kyoko were. 

“W-What are you doing?” Makoto said with a squeak of fear in his voice. 

“Patience, my dearest Makoto.” Eventually coming back into the light, Junko dangled an unusual pair of handcuffs. She had two other items in her hand, but as for the cuffs, they looked too big to fit on either Kyoko or Makoto’s wrists, but seemed the perfect size for Kyoko’s neck – 

…oh. 

“You wouldn’t believe how many S&M Clubs I had to fucking rob to find me one of these.” Junko said with a highly amused grin on her face. “Worth iiiiiiiiiiiiit!~”

Immediately spending the next few moments walking behind Kyoko, Junko took the oversized cuff… and immediately secured them around her neck, cuffing them to the middle post of the chair. Kyoko hacked as she realized she felt her air supply being cut by quite a bit, but much to her horror, the oval-shape of the cuffs were what secured her to be forced to look in front of her. Her ability to turn her head was completely inhibited in that moment, and she immediately felt like she was going to choke. 

“K-Kyo… ko?” Makoto said with more than a little fear in his voice. 

“Now then, time for your shots, Failure-chan~!” As Kyoko winced for a second at being called that, Junko cared little for the potential damage to her jugular as she injected a syringe directly to the bottom part of her throat. Kyoko coughed as she felt that part of her body draw up blood, but in time, she felt the same cloud of utter fire to her loins light up. 

Kyoko froze in terror in that moment. No, not again – 

Her thoughts were interrupted by Junko taking a pocketknife and carving at Kyoko’s clothes, tearing apart the bra and undershirt, and with a few careful rips, fully exposed Kyoko’s breasts to the cold air. Kyoko shivered at the sudden exposure, and in a moment of weakness, turned completely red as she tried to jolt her head away from Makoto – only to be met by the restriction of the large cuffs making her unable to rotate her head. 

In other words, she could do approximately nothing. As Kyoko felt a wave of tears at the realization Makoto was going to watch what was happened – befitting given the dawning look of pure horror on Makoto’s face, as he was rendered speechless – she felt the aphrodisiac that Junko injected into her course through her, as all she could do was wince and look utterly miserable. Junko clicked her tongue and chuckled darkly, before flipping the knife into a reverse grip. 

“’Ey, Mucky-Butt, catch!” Impressively, Junko was able to toss the knife with pinpoint accuracy at Mukuro despite holding it in a reverse grip – and even more impressively, Mukuro caught it without even looking at her sister.

“I take it you want me to… begin?” For some reason, as Kyoko would’ve noticed if panic didn’t subside over her, Mukuro looked… hesitant, almost. 

“Yeah, yeah, get to it, ya whore.” Junko snorted. “Give Failure-chan here a show she won’t forget.~” 

Mukuro nodded. “Understood.” Walking behind Makoto, the short boy’s eyes widened in fear. 

“W-Wh…” Makoto said, trembling and wide-eyed. “What’re you going to do to m – “ 

In that moment, Mukuro grabbed Makoto’s left pinky finger, bent it back… Crunch. 

Makoto shrieked in ungodly pain, before sobbing hysterically. “Stop! Stop! You’re hurting me!” As Mukuro continued to painfully bend the finger, Kyoko lit up in shock and utter horror, keeping her appalment present for longer than she’d ever want to. 

“You seeing this, Failure-chan? This is your fault.” Junko smirked. “Ya could’ve avoided this, but you’ll just have to live with fucking up and getting our little friend hurt, hmm?!” 

Immediately lunging towards Kyoko’s medium-sized breasts, Junko began groping and pawing, taking her time to nudge, tweak and pull at the areolae. 

Kyoko’s mind went into a blank in that moment. 

The Ultimate Detective squeaked as she felt the arousal – coupled with the aphrodisiac – hit her like a freight train, the familiar, unwanted horror at being groped in front of Makoto hitting her like a freight train. Kyoko bit her lip even harder in that moment, hard enough that she saw it as a miracle she didn’t draw blood. As tears pricked in her eyes and she looked on in horror, as Mukuro moved on to other fingers to torture the screaming Makoto with, Kyoko felt herself grow more sopping the more Junko went to work, and she hated it.

Thrashing about and desperately trying to resist being touched, Junko nonetheless snaked her hands into Kyoko’s damp panties and groin, beginning to fiddle with her clit. Kyoko gasped, feeling a wave of total arousal sweep over her as she desperately tried to thrash away. 

“Pathetic. You’re pathetic, Failure-chan. You wanna know why I call you that, you useless faggot?” Junko said, leaning in to have her hot, sultry breath touch her sweat-soaked earlobe. “Because you’re a hack. A fraud. For the Ultimate Detective, how much of your placement in Hope’s Peak isn’t because of you being a daddy’s girl? How much do you think your ‘talent’ is just dumb luck and circumstance, after countless different failures with you burning your hands? You don’t deserve to be called by your name, because you aren’t human. You’re a failure, and deserve to be labelled as such . 

“T-That’s…” Kyoko bit her lip, tears swelling up. “S-Shut… up…” 

“But I’m not wrong, am I? You’re only here because Jin fucked the right twat.” As Kyoko whimpered and moaned at Junko’s unwanted administrations, the Mastermind sneered. “You’re alone, Kyoko. And nobody would care for a second if you dropped dead in a ditch somewhere… nobody would miss you. You’ll forever be swept under the dustbin of history, and no one. Will. Remember you.” 

Kyoko fought against Junko's touches with everything she had in that moment, but even her mask failed. She wept, thrashing about and in a desperate attempt to retain composure, but it was not enough. Even considering Makoto was being tortured in front of her, she still felt arousal wash over her and send her into an ocean of emotional anguish, despair, and self-hatred. 

And she still came, directly onto Junko’s fingers. 

Cackling in conjunction to Mukuro finishing breaking Makoto’s entire left hand, all amid Makoto’s sobs and shrieking pleas, Junko immediately grabbed her soaking-wet hand and plunged the juices directly into Kyoko’s mouth. Kyoko was ready to bite Junko’s fingers off, but she was so drained by her orgasm that Kyoko effortlessly pried open her mouth only to paint

the walls of Kyoko’s mouth with her clear nectar. She gagged, retched, but she couldn’t do a thing about it… and they both knew it. 

“Pathetic.” Junko said, clicking her tongue. “Don’t you feel like sub-human trash, Failure-chan?” 

Kyoko seethed, amid teary eyes. “You’re the sub-h-human…” 

“Oh, shut the fuck up. You know I’m right.” Not wasting anymore time, Junko plunged her spit-soaked fingers directly into Kyoko’s crotch, sliding three fingers past the labia and into her inner walls. Kyoko gasped as she resumed thrashing about, not wanting to give even a single inch to Junko. “Mm, hurts less the second time, don’t it? Hah, wait ‘till you get your hymen broken by a nice ol’ helping of silicone cock. That lies in for your future, Failure-chan.~” 

“S-Stop… it…” Kyoko seethed. “I demand y-you to stop!” 

“You have no authority over me, you fucking sodomite.” Junko grinned, as she began plowing. Kyoko arched her head back as she yelped, thrashing about wildly. “Nobody cares if you were murdered. Nobody will care. You’ll die alone and no one will give a shit, because you’re a walking, breathing, talking waste of space. You’re a disgrace in every way, and I personally want you to see you confronted with you as the pathetic little abortion you are!” 

Junko began fingering with an incredible amount of force, as Kyoko thrashed about, wiggling, squirming and trying desperately not to yell out – but even that failed, giving the occasional cry of unwanted passion she felt escape from her lips. As her hips buckled and she grunting and cried out, she felt humiliation and utter degradation at all she had to suffer in this moment. Stop this, I demand you to stop, no means no Junko, no means –  

And just like that, with a pathetic whimper, she came again. A single tear streaked down from the abused detective as she slumped back, immediately feeling herself slip out of consciousness with how much the cuff around her neck was choking her… something Junko, in her infinite wisdom, made worse with thrashing around the neck-cuff and indirectly tightening it.

So this is how I lose. Being choked to death by a madwoman after being sexually abused by her. 

Her vision blanked, her cheeks turned purple, her eyes bulged. And she saw Makoto sobbing brokenly – and as if to make an example, Mukuro slammed her fist into his left hand, triggering a scream from the poor, already-broken boy. 

Makoto… you don’t hate me for this… 

…do you? 

Mercifully, the lack of oxygen to her brain caused spots to appear in her vision, and mercifully, nothingness. Whatever proved to be an escape from the waking nightmare Junko inflicted on her, however temporary, was a welcome respite.

Chapter Text

Kyoko awoke in the exact same place she found herself the day before: in her own room. 

The Ultimate Detective groaned softly as light came into her vision, piercing through her head like a rusty nail hammering itself in. Unlike last time, however, she recalled all too well about the things that have happened to her the night before. Intrinsically, the lavender-haired girl released a discomforted shudder as memories and images of the night before flooded in, feeling a rising splotch of bile get lodged in her throat. It sickened her to think that all happened to her… and she walked right into it. 

Worse yet, she couldn’t even confront the fact she failed Makoto. 

She glanced away from herself, feeling a bit of tears build up in her eyes. She nonetheless managed to choke it back down and exhale a heavy sigh, wiping away her eyes as the constant state of nausea flooded over her. How pathetic. Kyoko, you’re better than this. How could you let this happen to Makoto? How? You could have planned everything out more accordingly, managed to figure out everything beforehand , instead of letting yourself be subjected to that bloody fiend's whims and – 

Kyoko felt a dark pit in her stomach settle once she recalled there was likely no chance of fighting this. 

She was trapped. 

Rather than dwell on it much longer, she quickly cleaned herself in the shower, got dressed, and got ready to head out. For the second time in a matter of two days, a flurry of impatient knocks were heard outside of Kyoko’s room. Befitting of such hastiness, a voice indistinguishable from everyone else echoed outside of the room. 

“Yo, it’s me, Leon. You, uh… got a bit?”

Kyoko scowled for a second. She could never really claim to be a fan of Leon; he was a good kid with a good head on his shoulders, which made his lack of maturity and attempts to be a Casanova even more frustrating. Nonetheless putting these rather negative thoughts to the side, she approached her door and opened for the fiery redhead. 

“Heya!” Leon smiled brilliantly, but it quickly turned lopsided into a small frown. “…uhh, you okay? Doesn't look like ya slept well, Kyoko.” 

Kyoko funneled an uncharacteristically harsh glare. “My feelings are my own business, Leon. What is it?” 

“Alright, chill. Uhh, how do I put this…” Leon coughed nervously. “Err, we just got a notice from Monokuma that we’re free to explore the rest of the school now, what with the Killing Game on hold. You’d be surprised how much stuff there is on the third and fourth floor, and music room – “ 

Realizing how he sounded next to a frustrated Kyoko, Leon cleared his throat. “…uh, not the point. Point is, Makoto – somehow – woke up with both of his hands broken and he has no memory as to what the Hell happened last night. Either he fell down during his sleep, or – “ 

“Or, perhaps somebody could’ve tortured him for bemusement and inflicting emotional anguish?” Kyoko remarked, bitterly. 

The Ultimate Baseball Star looked taken aback from that. “W-Woah! Where'd that scenario come from?” 

Kyoko grit her teeth. “…that was merely a random guess bereft of well meaning humor. Are you going to tell me what you need of me or not?” 

Leon seemed unable to really formulate a quick response out of fear of angering Kyoko more, but the fake redhead simply cleared his throat and looked to the side. “Uhh, Makoto’s in the Nurse’s Office, for starters. Assuming ya don’t wanna meet with us in the dining hall, the Nurse’s Office is in the main hallway.”

Leon haphazardly offered his hand in assistance, but Kyoko simply glared at him. “I can take care of myself, thanks.” 

That’s all she wanted to say on the matter, anyway. Without giving herself much time for respite, Kyoko walked off. Upon her being out of earshot, Leon simply whistled and rubbed the back of his head. 

“Jeez, somebody’s grumpy today…” Leon tried to find humor in laughing, but it came off as a half-hearted chuckle. “…damnit. Though why’d she bring that up…?” 

Without thinking too much more on the matter, Leon walked away in the opposite direction.

Kyoko, suffice to say, was hardly in a very good mood. 

She’s been physically and sexually violated twice in the span of two days, all while Junko had the sick idea of dragging Makoto into this, something that only concerned her and the Mastermind. And the person that chose to break Makoto’s fingers without nary a moment of hesitance… well, for the 

amount of suffering she caused, Kyoko hopes another pit of Hell will unfurl itself to swallow that woman with her partner-in-crime. 

Mukuro was her name, was it? Bleh. 

Kyoko nonetheless tried not to let her bad mood show too much, though. Especially not when she wanted to check up on Makoto, the person she got hurt by her own carelessness. Opening the door to the Nurse’s Office, Makoto – who stood on the bed kicking his legs back and forth with bandages on his hands – smiled gleefully as Kyoko walked in. 

“Ah, Kyoko! You came!” Makoto grinned, getting off from his bed by using his hands and arm as a lever – only to wince unsubtly, feeling a red hot pain sweep onto himself. “Ow! Ow. Uh, anyway, what’s brought you here?”

Kyoko said nothing. As if desperate to not give Junko any satisfaction in her emotional discomfort, she simply sat down and eyed Makoto, an entirely serious look resting on her face. 

“Makoto, I’m going to ask you once.” Kyoko began, evenly. “Do you remember anything of last night?” 

A long pause occurred after that question. Makoto’s boundless smile, blissfully unaware of the night before, turned into a frown as he immediately confirmed Kyoko’s suspicions. “No. I don’t recall anything of last night. From what I remember, I went to bed last night and woke up with my hands like… this.” 

So Junko used amnestics on him. Kyoko bit her lip. But that makes no sense. If she wants to cause as much emotional discomfort as possible, why would she let Makoto go back remembering nothing?! It’s outside of her M.O., and I don’t see why – “ 

Makoto tilted his head, curious by Kyoko standing there in deep thought. “Umm… Kyoko?” 

Kyoko flinched for a split second before turning to Makoto. ”Yes? I was thinking to myself, if you couldn’t tell.” 

“No, it’s not that. But, um…” Makoto bit his lip. ”If something’s ever happened to you… you’d tell me, right?” 

The Ultimate Detective fell silent at that question. Not knowing quite how to respond, Kyoko glanced to the side and simply sighed. “I don’t know the answer to that question, Naegi-kun. But I at least trust that you’d remain open with me when I would need it, right?” 

“And I would. That much is without a doubt.” Makoto nodded before looking more serious. “Though… would it really be remiss to you to not consider yourself 100% right all the time?” 

Kyoko funneled an immediately hostile glare. “Oh? Are you doubting my ability to handle this?”

“N-No! No. But, uh…” Makoto gave a sheepish smile. “…this Killing Game isn’t meant to really be taken alone, Kyoko. You gotta rely on others too sometimes.” 

Kyoko looked to the side, sighing. “I think I can do without relying on others, Makoto. Worry about yourself first and foremost.” 

“R-Right, I know…” Makoto winced. “Just… stay safe, okay?” 

Much to Makoto’s continual worry, Kyoko had no real assured response to that question. She merely sighed, before smiling gently at Makoto. 

“Thank you. I do hope you get better, Makoto.” Kyoko said, simply. “But look after yourself first. I need to focus on looking what’s behind me more frequently.” 

As Kyoko got ready to leave the Nurse’s Office, Makoto only looked all the more worried. “But… the Killing Game’s off at the moment, isn’t it?” 

Kyoko stopped opening the door midway, simply turning back to utter one final word on the matter: 

“Exactly,” Kyoko remarked grimly. “That’s the thing I’m most concerned of.” 

Without much left to really think about on the matter, Kyoko walked off, putting her worries to rest soon after. 

The day, surprisingly, went on relatively quietly from there. At all imaginable stops, she avoided the clear pretender that claimed she was “Junko”. She did not want to hear, nor see nor even think Junko Enoshima, lest the sickened feeling in her stomach return. She instead kept at arms distance from the other students, which meant she couldn’t tour for herself on the floors above – everyone being present to explore or entertain themselves meant that much, anyways. 

Kyoko still couldn’t contest the feeling that, even counting the cameras and in knowledge of what they can do, she was being watched. But Kyoko

figured more than anything, she couldn’t say anything, could she? 

You know perfectly well what she’s threatening. If you tell a soul, everyone here will die. 

Kyoko stopped in her tracks, hearing a voice she was decidedly not familiar with. “…who’s there?” 

There was no response. The voice retreated as soon as it came. 

Kyoko bit her lip, and simply walked away in grim silence. She had a dark feeling in the pit of her stomach that this was only going to get worse.

“So just to review…” Mukuro repeated, slowly. “You’re not choosing to instead have Kyoko preyed upon today, but at random intervals of time?” 

“Bingo, Mukuro.” Junko grinned as she spun in her chair. “If she could even begin to predict all the bad shit tumbling her way, then this little game of cat and mouse would begin to get boring really fast.” 

As if to emphasize what she meant, she brought up a camera that illustrated the room Kyoko slept in; she was sleeping like nothing was wrong with the world, but the odd stillness in Kyoko’s body versus what she endured up to this point made Junko grin. 

“The thing about despair is that it’s messy, confusing, but probably most importantly, unpredictable.” Junko began, simply. “That’s the one thing it has over boring shit like hope: it always comes back with a vengeance, and constantly has new things in mind for little old me. For everyone else?” A dark chuckle. “Well, y’know what they say about humans fearing the unknown. What they cannot even begin to understand first and foremost.” 

Mukuro raised an eyebrow. “Then tell me this: what do you have in mind for her come the day you’ll strike?” 

Indeed, Junko chooses random intervals at any given moment to truly act on her sadistic whims – she’s all too capable of planning, but having

everything neatly lined up when you can just as much have it come crashing down was what made Junko such an antithesis to Kyoko. Which made it all the more tempting to dig into that seemingly-impenetrable mask and rip it off of her flayed, screaming face. Oh, how she wanted to see her scream. It wouldn’t be easy, and Kyoko would fight the whole way through. But Junko made it an immediate note that when she finally gets to hear that beautiful sound, she’ll record it every night to be able to sleep to it days on end. 

Junko simply rested her head on her hands, and giggled. 

“Soon, my dear Mucky-butt. Soon.” Junko smirked. “You’ll see what I have in mind via video feed.”

……… 

…… 

… 

…there was nothing. Extending beyond the primordial blackness that lie in the dark corners, there was nothing. Endless upon endless stretches of nothingness, pouring and slavering out more and more nothingness and 

drowning you in it. And lest something interesting happens in the next few marks of time, there probably won’t ever be anything to see or do in this nothingness. 

…ever. 

Never, ever, ever. 

…never ever? 

Nope! Not in a million years, my friend. For you see, there’s only so much to paint an empty canvas with when ya don’t even have the paint or brushes; you need tools, little tidbits of the surrounding world to truly create a vivid and incandescent landscape of emotional turmoil and utter

turbulence. And when that happens, well, the world will become vivid, bright, colored with the sweet, serenading scent of your own folly… 

‘My own folly’? What on Earth are you getting at? 

Simple. You and I are two sides of the same coin… you’d never admit it to yourself, but I’m that little voice who you always try to repress. But I’m here nonetheless; amid an endless seascape of utter silence and outright boringness, I can finally entertain myself with the paint of feelings, or dysphoria… and then you will see to it my purpose, at the end of a long road. 

And what is at the end of this road? 

… 

… 

… 

… 

…… 

………

Chapter Text

Five days have passed since the last incident that occurred. 

Despite her general attempts to keep away from the other students (especially “Junko”), Kyoko was nonetheless persuaded by Makoto to at least spend a mess hall dinner together. This was hardly something she was entirely on-board with here, especially given her worries over Junko seeking when next to strike. 

“Glad you could make it, Kyoko! Let’s eat.” 

“…right.” Kyoko gave a forced smile to Makoto’s oblivious cheerfulness. She was trying to parse her own feelings on the matter, really, nevermind the fact that she didn’t feel safe with the impostor Junko around. She nonetheless saw fit to get herself a cup of coffee, not wanting to think too much on the matter outside the warm scent of bitter caffeine. 

Sayaka smiled over at Kyoko. “Hey, tell me Kyoko! You’ve been getting along well Makoto?” 

“Hm?” Kyoko responded, not sure how to parse that. “We’ve been fine, thanks. I also appreciate you and Makoto wanting my presence here.” 

Sayaka giggled. “It’s no biggie.” Suddenly, a frown. “But you’re okay, right? Given we’re all… trapped here…” 

“Junko”, who was sitting adjacent to Makoto, gave an indignant snort. “Oh, come on, grow up. We’re all trapped here for good, and no Killing Game means no escape.”

“Y-You don’t know that!” Sayaka retorted. “If we look a bit more, maybe we’ll find a way to – “ 

“…Maizono-chan, at ease.” Sakura responded softly. “No need to fret and panic.” 

“Y-Yeah, I’m h-honestly gonna h-have to side with S-Sayaka on this one. Doesn’t t-this all seem…” Toko paused, thinking about what she wanted to say next. “…s-strange?” 

“Well, I think so too, the more ya think about it.” Leon said with a grumble. “We’re all trapped here because the Mastermind wants us to kill each other… so what sense even is there that we don’t even get to have motives to escape because something happened?” 

After a prolonged bout of silence, Taka spoke up. “Y-Yes, that seems to be the case… but I do honestly question just what is going through the head of the Mastermind…” 

Nobody quite had an answer to that… 

…but seemingly on cue, the PA speakers flared up. 

“Attention Kyoko Kirigiri! Please report to the fourth floor at your earliest convenience! Your Headmaster wants to have a word with you over a few things!” 

As both Hiro, Hifumi and Leon gawked at Kyoko and “Junko” let loose a snicker, Kyoko’s eyes went wide as she felt a slide of panic overcome her. Nonetheless steadying her rising fears in that moment, the Ultimate Detective gave no immediate signs as she left her seat. 

“Well, it seems that I’m needed.” Kyoko smiled wryly. “I’ll be back soon enough. If not, I’d have returned to my room by then.” 

Mondo gave an awkward cough. “Uhh, you’ll be fuckin’ fine with what that bear wants to tell you, right?” A pause. “…I’m kinda worried.”

Kyoko smiled. “Relax. I have no intent on falling prey to what he wants. Although knowing the rules, failure to comply means execution…” 

Mondo and Leon both raised hands in objection, but Kyoko spoke up. “Don’t worry about me. I should be fine going from here on out.” 

I hope so, she though, as she finally made motions outside of the mess hall to take the stairs all the way up to the fourth floor. But in that moment… 

Makoto, hastily, got out of his seat and up to where Kyoko stood. “Kyoko, lemme accompany you at le – “ 

“No.” Kyoko responded automatically, biting her lip. Realizing her emotions showed in that moment, the Ultimate Detective sighed. “… Makoto, your hands are broken. I can handle this by myself, okay?” 

Makoto frowned. “…you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Kyoko funneled a glare. “You aren’t going to help the way you think you are. Just… let me take care of this, alright?” 

Makoto noticeably drooped, but he relented. “…alright. Just be safe, okay?” 

“I have every intent to be.” Kyoko said, nodding. “I appreciate the concern.” 

As Makoto went back to his seat, Kyoko sighed. She had no reason to expect the worst with whatever Monokuma wanted with him, but it wasn’t like this was even a smokescreen for what Junko wants. But she has no intent on playing anything but hard to get. 

What’s the worst that could happen?

……… 

…… 

…

…you’re back already? 

Silence. You know this wasn’t as I’ve intended it to pan out. 

You say that, but are you really the one in control here? Who’s to say you haven’t walked right into an inescapable trap when you thought you were going to be all peachy, hmm? 

You don’t know that. Whatever the Mastermind’s planning, it isn’t as simple as to – 

Use your head. You’re the Ultimate Detective. You managed to solve countless cold cases that took the adults decades to figure out, and yet you still feel as though figuring out what she’s planning is above you? Try not to lie to yourself, for once. 

But that’s – 

No buts. If you consider yourself anywhere near the sleuth you think you are, you would’ve saw this coming. She’s gaming you. And if you don’t care or bother to use the skills you have to figure it out, you’re no better than a hack that is merely wearing the skin of a detective. Am I clear on that? 

But I – 

No. Buts. 

… 

…well? Do you have anything to say? Or are you not going to confront the fact this was of your own doing? 

… 

… 

…

… 

… 

…… 

………

“Ngggh…” 

Kyoko made note of three things upon coming to her surroundings. 

The first thing was the fact, for one reason or another, she was clothed in nothing but her lacy undergarments, bra and panties alike. This was aside from the fact her studded gloves – mercifully – remained on her own hands during that moment, but that did little to assuage her from turning beet red at the moment. 

The second thing she noticed, of course, was her being bound spread-eagle across a bed. Each of her wrists and ankles were cuffed to the metal bedposts, and Kyoko didn’t even have time to take in her surroundings. 

Finally, she was gagged. 

“Grrhghghgnnnnnnnngh! Nghghhhhhhh…!” Kyoko tried to yell into the two cuts of duct tape lining a sloppy ‘x’ around her mouth, but it was no use. The most her tongue and thrashing could do was only put more wrinkles in the tape, hardly anything resembling holes. It only took a second to look over her surroundings that her eyes widened in shock, tears pricking as she scarcely recognized her surroundings. 

A fireplace – with some kind of iron in the burning embers – a roll of duct tape, and… vibrators? Kyoko’s eyes widened in near-total horror as she realized just where she was, and she quickly began thrashing around… unaware to the footsteps coming to the door on her left.

Where the hell am I?! What’s going on here?! How did I even get here?! Kyoko’s mind was abuzz with panic as she desperately and fearfully thrashed around. Calm down, Kyoko, just calm down. You can find a way out of here, you just need to – 

And the door was, slowly, opened. And just as Kyoko expected… …Junko Enoshima was there, smiling. 

“Why hello, there!” Junko smirked devilishly. “Congratulations on being selected, Failure-chan, for the…” 

A sinister chuckle. “…’examination’.” 

…oh, no. 

Kyoko struggled even harder, trying to find some escape, any, amid her total confinement. But it seemed like the more she thrashed about, the tighter her bonds became, leaving nothing but red angry scars across her wrist and ankles… but she didn’t care. She didn’t care if they were soaked in blood by the end of it, she did not want to be a part of this. 

Junko, being obviously the more bemused of the two, laughed. “You know, you’re sooooo gullible, Failure-chan! Imagine being so much of a two-bit pathetic skank that the ‘Ultimate Detective’ walked directly into my little plan by virtue of you walking the other way? Do ya actually think I’m that stupid, sweetheart?” 

Kyoko didn’t dare want to think about her without it, but she noticed Junko managed to maintain her attire even given the… context of what she was in. However, she noticed that Junko’s skirt seemed lower, as if trying to clearly conceal at... something. This only compounded her worries; Kyoko knew if this was going where Junko wanted it to go, both girls remaining dressed 

would not last… which only made her growing panic worse as Junko cheerfully strolled up to the creaky, old bed and sat down. The most that Junko seemed intent to do, however, was run a trail within Kyoko’s inner thigh.

That elicit a loud yelp from the detective, and Junko did well to simply click her tongue. “Poor, predictable Failure-chan. Maybe the reason why you’re in the situation you’re in has got to be because you really are such an utter mess of a human being. So defective, such a faggot, and so many freakin’ scars. Speaking of…” 

Junko made an immediate grab to Kyoko’s gloves. Kyoko’s eyes widened as she immediately tried to ball up her hands, but the gloves were effortlessly removed… and Kyoko, in that moment, felt the sting of tears budding her eyes with the fleshy, burned hands being in full sight of Junko. The eponymous Ultimate Despair simply cackled. 

“Holy shit! You have fuckin’ bacon hands!” Junko said laughing, completely breathless. “Oh, how’d you even get that much of a burn on your hands?! Pathetic…!” 

Junko continued laughing as Kyoko felt a sting of misery overcome her. Her attempts to thrash around seemed to cease as Junko stopped laughing, her powerful grey eyes boring deep into Kyoko’s lavender ones. The Mastermind simply grinned devilishly, and in one swift motion, slapped Kyoko. 

“Silly little faggot, hiding your scars like a pussy.” Junko said, spitting on Kyoko’s face. “Let’s take these gloves out and deep-fry ‘em, huh?” 

Kyoko felt a span of total panic overcome her as Junko happily waltzed over to the fireplace; she cried out into her mess of tape to stop her, but it was to no avail. Junko happily tossed the gloves into the fire. Tears quickly bore into her eyes as Kyoko felt humiliated. The logical part of her brain tried to remind her she had backups, but it still hurt. 

“Now then!” Cheerfully oblivious to the fire reignited from the extra fuel, Junko skipped back over to Kyoko. “Let’s remove that fuckin’ mess of tape from your mouth, hmm?~” 

Upon gripping at the base of the tape, Junko ripped the tape off with an extremely painful yank, causing Kyoko to wince hard. The poor detective didn’t even have the fortitude to even facilitate her own mask; she couldn’t

even glare. Her lips quivered as tears pricked down her eyes, threatening to spill from the continuous humiliation and abuse. 

“I… I don’t get it. Why?” Kyoko began, her voice shaking. “Why are you… doing this?” 

Junko smirked. “That’s a question I’ll answer after sex-ed! But for now, we’d ought to teach good little girls and boys how to properly suck a dick, yes? And with that…” 

In one unhesitant motion, Junko unclipped and threw off her skirt, revealing what she had underneath. 

Kyoko’s eyes widened, seeing the eight-inch strap-on at the base. Joltingly, it seemed to have some kind of mound of fake flesh covering the shaft and fake scrotum, while attached to a strap-on base with a control panel. And even more joltingly, it somehow had… cum dripping out of it? Regardless, Junko simply gave a chuckle as she pressed a button at the base, causing the phallus to go from limp to erect in a matter of seconds. Kyoko suddenly had complete and utter comprehension of what was going to happen. 

Junko was going to physically rape her. 

“D-Don’t…” Kyoko whimpered. “Please, don’t – “ 

“Now then! I suppose it’s worth mentioning that during all future instances of Hope’s Peak’s sex-ed classes, we have taken the pleasure of recording every instance I’ve had with you… and will for the future.” Kyoko’s eyes widened in pure horror as she realized what that meant, but she was shushed with Junko placing her hands on her lips. With her free hand, she grabbed the roll of tape next to her. 

Junko? She simply chuckled. “So with that all in mind… I suggest you behave like a good little dyke whore and bend over.” 

Immediately holding up Kyoko’s mouth, the detective continued to thrash around, all while Junko chuckled darkly as she held up the base. “Y’know, had this beautiful little contraption made by my mechanic. Has a ton of

buttons for limp and erect modes, can be stored with liquids like, say, my underlings’ cum, so who knows? You might just get yourself knocked up at any given time, sweetheart.” 

There was an unspoken venom in those words. Kyoko felt nauseated just thinking about it, but Junko readied the phallus and was ready to plow. 

“D-Don’t…” Kyoko whimpered. “I-I’ll choke.” 

Junko leaned in, bearing a terrifying smirk. “Do I look like I care?” 

Without even giving way to let Kyoko made her piece, Junko rammed the phallus directly into Kyoko’s mouth. 

The Ultimate Detective, being a virgin (if only by the technically that her hymen hasn’t broken), gagged immediately to taste the salt of pre-cum oozing at the tip, tears rapidly swelling in her eyes as she continued to thrash about desperately. She tried biting it off, but with how Junko felt nothing from her trying to bite off a mechanical dildo that grated against her teeth, Kyoko simply was forced to give in. And it was awful. 

“Lesson number one of Sex-Ed! Deepthroating!” Junko grinned deviously. “D-E-E-P-T-H-R-O-A-T-I-N-G! The act of being forced a nice, juicy cock down your throat and ready to have that sucker blow its load! How does it feel to go from solving cases to sucking dick, Failure-chan?~” 

Kyoko couldn’t hold it in anymore. In a moment of total humiliation, Kyoko sobbed as tears streaked down her cheeks, a gentle, pained whimper as she felt ready to throw up, with the phallus ramming itself repeatedly down Kyoko’s throat. Junko must’ve been in heaven watching her squirm and sob, but Kyoko? This was Hell on Earth for her, pure misery being forced into this… and it was nothing compared to the words that were announced soon after by Kyoko. 

“Lesson number two of Sex-Ed! Ejaculation!” Junko’s cocky, sadistic smirk grew worse. “E-J-A-C-U-L-A-T-I-O-N! The act of a guy’s nuts going into overdrive and spurting his cum directly into and/or on you! Better get ready, Failure-chan!”

Nostoppleasestop— Kyoko sobbed. This wasn’t just humiliation, this was outright degradation. She felt her entire world become enveloped into a horrifying sphere of pain and misery, pleads of mercy unheard of through Kyoko’s garbled sobs as she thrashed desperately against her bonds… but ultimately, she couldn’t feel a thing as Kyoko felt Junko’s strap-on orgasm. 

With the press of a button, Junko smirked and sighed happily as cum spurted into Kyoko’s mouth, guzzling down her throat in thick ribbons, all while she felt nauseated, sick, and ready to completely and utterly vomit. It seemed that would be the end of it as Junko pulled out, but she had other plans. 

Before she could spit it out, she was forced to ultimately swallow the disgusting substance as Junko – in haste – grabbed the roll of tape and promptly went over her mouth. Kyoko looked utterly nauseated, and only resisted the urge to puke through sheer willpower… but even this wasn’t enough to make her feel anything less than suffocating. 

“I’m gonna give ya a second or two to catch your breath, Failure-chan.” Junko grinned, watching Kyoko pitifully wheeze, sob and desperately try to collect air through her nostrils. “In the meantime, though…” 

Junko, in a total haze, ripped off Kyoko’s bra, exposing her breasts for the first time for both the Mastermind and cameras to see. Kyoko was still gathering herself after that, so her breasts simply being exposed all the more made Kyoko sob. Junko simply giggled darkly and brought out her phone, taking snapshots of her medium-sized breasts with dark chuckles all the while. 

“Ooooh, exclusiiiiiiiiiive!~” Junko cackled. “Now then, the panties…” 

Understandably not wanting Junko to go anywhere near her entrance like she did so last time, Kyoko thrashed about, avoiding Junko at every turn. The Mastermind, however, simply procured a pair of scissors amid Kyoko thrashing and wailing and snipped the panties off, pulling it away. 

And just like that, Kyoko was completely naked. Tears welled up in in eyes out of total humiliation, but Junko simply cackled. “God, you look so

embarrassed!” Gleefully taking more photos on her phone, she finally put it away… only to, shockingly, walk away in that moment. 

“Now, before I finally have the right of droit du seigneur, let it be known that I gotta brand what it basically my property.” Junko darkly sniggered as she grabbed the red-hot iron in the fireplace, much to Kyoko’s increasing tears of fear and horror. Slowly walking over, Junko smiled sadistically as she proceeded to put the iron all the closer to Kyoko’s flesh… 

…but in a moment Kyoko did not want to know the reasoning of, she moved over… to the nearest point of her entrance without causing permanent damage to her slit. And Kyoko, in wide-eyed terror, desperately pleaded in her eyes without giving a single word. 

“Sweetie, this is exactly why I taped your mouth again.” Junko smiled sadistically as she laughed. “Now I won’t lie; this is gonna hurt like a bitch.” 

And in that moment, Kyoko never got to see the wording at the tip of the red-hot branding iron – in one swift motion, Junko plunged the iron where her pubic hair would have been. 

No gag on Earth would’ve, or could’ve, muffled the shrill scream of pain that came out of Kyoko’s gagged mouth. The scream – and searing, ungodly pain – seemed to have been frozen in time, seconds seeming like minutes at a time. Kyoko sobbed hysterically as the pain ricocheted off every nerve she had, every feeling of pure anguish writhing through her, her thrashing about and screeching like a madwoman – 

At long last, with Kyoko’s upper pelvis thoroughly cooked, Junko removed the brand. The lettering, cruel as it was, was clear as day. 

KYOKO IS  

A USELESS  

FAILURE

“You see it too from here, don’t you Failure-chan?” Junko smirked. “’Kyoko is a Useless Failure’. Because that’s what you are… and as of this moment, you’re no longer human.” 

Kyoko sobbed and quivered, a look of pure agony written all over her face… and in that moment, Junko did finally put the brand away back into the fire. Meanwhile, the Ultimate Detective did not even want to look at the scar, nerves still on fire as the burnt skin gave way to blood cauterizing. How was she going to hide this?! Talking about her gloves were one thing, but this?! 

If Kyoko was any more rational than she was (where she wasn’t being very rational at all), she’d have recognized the callous display in making Kyoko unable to talk about this… but Junko didn’t care. She simply didn’t care. And it showed, while Kyoko’s pain was still raw, that Junko sat down on the bed, in front of Kyoko, and hoisted up her thighs. 

Kyoko couldn’t struggle anymore. She hated to admit she’s given up, but what else was there to say? Her crotch hurt like hell, she had cum in her mouth, and there wasn’t a single goddamn fucking thing she could do about it. All she could do, in any case, was whimper and sob weakly as she awaited the worst, a look of pleading desperate to have it over with. But more than anything, was the look Junko wanted to see on Kyoko’s face. 

A look of utter trepidation and terror. 

“Hehehe. Fear’s a wonderful look on you, Failure-chan.” Junko said, gripping the base of her strap-on. “Let’s milk some more despair from you therein, shall we?” 

And with that, Junko leaned in – 

“Bend over.” 

Kyoko screamed as she felt the strap-on’s phallus ram into her. She felt being fingered twice before was horrible, but this… this was worse. This was so much worse. As Junko used her free hand to take pictures of

Kyoko’s broken, sobbing body, she’d take into full about the big, lavender, bulging eyes as tears flowed from her cheeks in pure, primal pain. 

She dared not look below, either. More blood pooled around her entrance as Junko broke her hymen, finally losing whatever claims to virginity she had. And as Junko pounded into her like a wild animal, Kyoko felt ready to cry, throw up, maybe both of the same – this was such a state of pure, utter pain that she didn’t even know what to say, or do, given the utter hopelessness of her predicament… 

…but Junko saw intent on trying, ripping off the tape to hear Kyoko’s squeals in full volume. “Lesson number three of Sex-Ed! Vaginal! V-A-G-I N-A-L! Where I fuck your little pussy until you’re all red and worn, and made a baby out of it!~” 

Kyoko sobbed. “P-Please…” 

Junko smirked as she continued thrusting. “Oh?” 

“P-Please, not… that.” Kyoko hiccupped, tears streaming down her face. “P-Please don’t do it. P-Pull out, do anything, just d-don’t cum inside me – “ 

Junko grinned, spitting on Kyoko’s face once more. “Too bad, Failure-chan; you reap what you sow. You deserve to be punished like this, and more.” 

I… d-deserve this…? 

Thrusting again like an animal, Junko smirked, listening to Kyoko’s soft whimpers and screams. “You wanna know why Makoto and the others haven’t come for you yet? Because they don’t care. Hell, who’s to say I wouldn’t spread these photos around for our enjoyment, hmm? Once I’m done fucking some sense into you, maybe Makoto would see you as the cum dumpster you are and want in, hmm? That sounds nice and dandy… don’t you agree?!” 

Th-That isn’t… true… is it…?

In coincidence to Junko’s loaded question, the Ultimate Despair’s thrusts grew worse and worse. Kyoko buckled, sobbed, and wailed, all while she couldn’t do a thing about it. 

For the first time in her life… 

I… I… 

…she was completely helpless. 

…I deserve to be used… 

Kyoko’s mind blanked as she felt ribbons of cum spill into her, feeling a nauseating pit of despair and numbness come over her at last. Everything after Junko seeding directly into the detective was a blur; unbeknownst to the world around her, Kyoko curled up to the extent she could in her bondage and whimpered. The rest, as it came to be, was the merciful tenderness of silence, darkness, away from where anything could hurt her. 

And then, mercifully, unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

“Uhhn…” 

Kyoko awoke with a searing headache, and the light at the above of her head hurt. It took a bit for her to regain any semblance of motor functions, though; she twisted around, squirming in her bed, memories still blank in her head. She seemed to have been dressed in her night garments, almost oblivious to the fact she was raped the other – 

…oh. 

Oh. 

Kyoko’s eyes shot up, trepidation overtaking any sort of sleepiness she had. She immediately pulled down her night pants… 

…only to see the brand, still there. 

Everything came flooding back after that. Everything. Kyoko quickly began hyperventilating, tears building up… and then she gagged immediately. 

Her next plan of action was to run to the bathroom to vomit her brains out. 

Sorry, not ‘run’. ‘Sob piteously while blissfully unaware of the searing pain between her thighs and stains of blood she just didn’t happen to notice, all while stumbling to her destination’. It felt like eons before she felt like she upended all the contents of her stomachs into the toilet bowl. The subtle, pungent smell of digested cum made her nausea worse, and she was dry heaving long after all her contents were in the bowl. After the dry heaving finally stopped, Kyoko collapsed into the bowl, sobbing hideously. 

In summation, Junko won.

Pathetic… I’m so pathetic. God. Kyoko sobbed piteously, the toxic thoughts echoing throughout her head. What kind of detective gets fucked like that, huh? The way I just took it and couldn’t do anything about it… A weak sniffle, before further sobs. Pathetic. I’m fucking pathetic . If I was in any way deserving of the title of ‘Ultimate Detective’, I sure as hell don’t deserve it now. 

After flushing the acidic contents down the toilet, Kyoko wasted no time in hopping into the showers. Needless to say, the Ultimate Detective unleased a torrent of scalding hot water onto her bare body, but she could only bare the heat for so long without being reminded of the searing hot pain she went through – she could not stomach the heat without feelings nauseous, so she turned the shower knob to the opposite extreme. Torrential coldness poured onto Kyoko as she shuddered and sobbed weakly, scrubbing each crevice thoroughly, especially her ruined entrance until it was completely red from friction. 

She spent the next couple of minutes sobbing dryly while the cold downpour eventually numbed her senses. After that, she only had the strength to laugh bitterly; it was hardly a laugh of any sort of confidence, absolutely not joy, but a bitter laugh that soon broke into a gentle whimper and sob. 

She really fucked up, didn’t she? 

She could only take the icy-cold shower for so long before deciding she didn’t want to catch hypothermia, so she quickly turned against the knob to end the downpour. The numbness at least distracted her from the pain she still felt, and she didn’t even want to look at the brand scar without going into another panic fit… but in time, she calmed herself. She was hurt, she was hurt badly, but she felt like she could still operate to some ability. At least she hoped. 

Kyoko sighed, biting at her lip gently. She was legit in no place to show weakness to everyone. She knew perfectly well what would befall her friends the longer she dawdled with her feelings. How could she forget? With a bitter grumble, she made sure to no longer keep herself in the nude by dressing up.

After a bit though… 

“…where are my gloves?” 

Kyoko asked that question in a completely flat tone, devoid of any emotion. But just as she got herself dressed in her usual attire barring her gloves, she was to enter the cabinet which contained her gloves only to find… nothing. Not even a paltry amount of evidence that laid itself credence to where and how those gloves just up and disappeared… other than a note. 

Perhaps ominously, the seal of the envelope was a lipstick kiss of a pink color. 

Feeling herself extremely uneasy, she nervously opened up the letter and began reading the letter.

Dear Failure-chan, 

 If you’re reading this letter, then you’ll be pleased to hear that I’ve, ahem, ‘took care’ of those ugly, unwashed leather gloves of yours. Just as a good friend should do! Don’t hold it against me for using your gloves to wash them, okay?~ 

 Don’t expect to see them in the laundry room; they’re in a top secret facility in this very school where I washed them! Though, uh, really, I figured there’s the fact you deserve to know that I’ll be sure to deliver it to you given enough time as is, hmm? You won’t have to find me. I’ll find you. 

  Oh, and of course, loose lips cause executions, am I right? So, uh… don’t do anything stupid, Failure-chan. 

Ciao-ciao, 

Your headmaster

Kyoko felt her arms trembled as she shook, fear and trepidation completely overcoming her. She felt her eyes wet a little, but she choked down the anger, humiliation and frustration with a ragged deep breath. She calmed with her emotional turbulence, but she remained shaking profusely. It only took one look at her hands for her to see with her own two eyes that she had to keep her hands concealed, at all costs. 

Tears swelled up for a split second as she looked at the hideously burnt hands. …I deserved to be here, don’t I? This is what I get for trying to get myself into business where it… where it… 

She couldn’t even dare admit it was her fault. It would be too much of a blow to her own pride. With a shaky breath and dark sigh, she left the room she was in, making sure to conceal her hands in her pockets.

‘Kyoko Kirigiri was not in a good mood.’ 

That was the sign she gave to everyone when the occasional student passed her while the Ultimate Detective, and the stoic girl shot them a glare when they tried to strike up conversation. If looks could kill, she’d be the blackened. Regardless, she paced around the room clearly not trying to dawdle on the matter too much. She’s ashamed to even begin to admit, but the time spent pacing back and forth have really started to make her forget where she even was. 

She realized she was circling around the premise for what she could only guess was an entire hour. 

Suddenly realizing what she was doing with her time, and with nobody in sight, Kyoko turned a bright shade of red and looked down. “…this is ridiculous. Why am I walking around like this?” 

She only asked that thought aloud because there was nobody there to hear her… except the Mastermind, who heard her from above. That itself led to the realization she was being watched the whole time, her own fears being realized, and she understood a simple fact.

Being alone made it that much easier to be preyed upon. 

Kyoko blanched, realizing in that moment how dumb it was to isolate herself like this. Strength in numbers, right? But the more she thought about it, the more she realized of the unwinnable situation she was in… and the more she bit at her lip. There was truly nowhere to go but down if she wanted to be safe for any extended period of time, but that just made her more liable to put the others at risk… 

Kyoko, for the first time, didn’t know what to do. She had no control over her current situation, and that only just built up at her inner frustration the more she thought about it. All that did was let herself be jumped by an inconspicuous visitor. 

“…um, K-Kyoko… wh-what’re you doing here?” 

The Ultimate Detective flinched in that moment, only just turning around to see a far smaller girl, one Chihiro Fujisaki, look at the lavender-haired girl with a quizzical expression on her face. Kyoko wanted to get mad at her, but she knew Chihiro almost certainly didn’t deserve her own ire. Calmly, Kyoko rubbed at her temple as she glanced over at the small programmer. 

After a terse pause, she spoke. “…is there something you need from me, Chihiro-chan?” 

“Y-Yeah. Makoto, um, sent me when he realized you were up here, s scaring other people away.” Chihiro began, shakily. “I w-wanted to see what was wrong myself, but, um, I don’t like being scared…” 

Kyoko felt a lot of her anger melt at that moment. Feeling a string of guilt, she sighed, shaking her head. “…I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know. I feel like I don’t want to make others worry about what I’m going through, and – “ 

Kyoko immediately shut her lip upon realizing she nearly slipped at her predicament. Chihiro, innocently, tilted his head in confusion. 

“Um… s-sorry?” Chihiro spoke. “What are you… going through?”

It took every last reserve of Kyoko’s willpower not to tear up and admit she’s been raped three times by the Mastermind, but she fought off the urge. Besides, she internally snarked, what would I even begin to sound like if I just said “Hey Chihiro, guess what? I was raped three times, was branded on my crotch, had my gloves taken away and am in a position where I can’t say a word lest everyone dies!” 

Kyoko grimaced, but she continued to speak. “…it’s nothing. I’ve just been struggling with sleep is all.” 

“Hmm…” Chihiro didn’t look convinced, but nodded. “Alright. But you do realize Makoto sent me up here because you can depend on him, right? You don’t have to be afraid of him. He’s your friend, Kyoko.” 

“…is he?” Kyoko took a moment to realize how that sounded now that she spoke her thought aloud, but she wisely chose not to draw attention to that fact. Regardless, she nodded, giving no motions with her hands due to them being firmly tucked away into her pockets. 

“Well… yeah.” Chihiro said with a smile. “He likes you a lot, you know.” 

Kyoko froze. Her brain didn’t know how to parse that, especially so soon after what she went through. “…I’m sorry?” 

“Yeah. He… really, really likes you, Kyoko.” Chihiro said with a gleam in her eyes. “I can tell based on the way he looked at you.” 

Kyoko blanched a bit, her alarms going off in her head. Taking a shaky breath, she asked. “Do you mean, like… he… want to have… um…” 

“H-Huh?! N-No, nothing like that!” Chihiro awkwardly spoke, before clearing her throat. “But… he still wants to make sure you’re okay and everything. That your safe.” 

Kyoko immediately felt her arms detense upon hearing Chihiro deny her fears. With a terse silence, she looked away. “Thanks. That’s… good to hear.”

Chihiro frowned. “You don’t wanna join us?” 

“No, I should be fine.” Kyoko began, shakily. “He should… look after himself first and foremost. I worry about myself.” 

A long pause. 

“…Kyoko.” Chihiro began. “What’s happening?” 

It felt like Kyoko’s world crashed. When Kyoko finally turned her head towards Chihiro, the smaller of the two girls was shocked to see tears in her eyes. 

“I… I can’t tell you.” Kyoko whispered shakily. “I’m sorry. Excuse me.” Without a moment, she hastily walked off. 

“W-Wait! Kyoko!” Chihiro tried to catch up, but Kyoko was well and truly faster than her… nevermind Chihiro wasn’t exactly a pinnacle of fitness. With a deep sigh, Chihiro removed the tension in his body to look up, an aura of complete and utter concern in his eyes. 

“What…” Chihiro began, gently. “What’s wrong with her…?” 

She didn’t know the answer, and she can only hope it isn’t as bad as she fears it is. With a long silence as Kyoko’s footsteps finally dimmed, Chihiro turned to the stairwell leading to the third floor, and grimaced. 

“…I’ve gotta tell somebody.” Chihiro said. Without further ado, she went downstairs, still in awe at the level of emotion the supposedly-unflappable Kyoko displayed. If one wasn’t as empathetic as Chihiro, one would assume that was Kyoko cracking under the pressure. But Chihiro knew that wasn’t the case. 

She also knew when a strong person like Kyoko was terrified. ………

…… 

… 

You really have nothing to say for yourself now, don’t you, you dumb slut? 

…I’m not talking about this. 

Oh, are you? You had one job and you fucked it up. You really should just go on and crawl into a hole and die. It isn’t like anybody would miss you or anything. 

…I’m not talking about this. 

Don’t make me laugh. You probably liked getting railed in the cunt by her, didn’t you? No matter how much you screamed or cried or were ready to piss yourself in fear, you liked the feeling of a strap-on dick rubbing against your little clit? Didn’t you?! 

I’m. Not. Talking. About. This. 

But you liked it still! stop You liked being fucked like a whore, stopit which is why you’ve done nothing to help yourself! pleasestopit Maybe stopohgod if stop you’ve STOP got IMBEGGINGYOU knocked STOPITNOW UP 

stopSTOPstopSTOPstopSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP … 

… 

… 

…and on and off, it’s like a switch. 

… 

Anguish, right?

… 

… 

… 

… 

…… ………

Chapter Text

“Wait, Chihiro, run by this to me again. Slowly.” 

Makoto had no words for what the small programmer told him – it was only him, Leon, Chihiro, Taka and Hifumi in the dining hall, and Chihiro did not look that very pleased with what she saw. Slowly, the small girl took a deep breath in and spoke slowly. 

“A-Alright, so…” Chihiro began. “I went upstairs to see how Kyoko’s doing, right? She’s been isolating herself a lot more over the last few days, and when I tried to get an answer out of her, she just… began crying and sped-walked off.” The petite programmer’s lip quivered. “It was almost completely uncharacteristic of her…” 

Makoto looked on, confused. “Well… maybe she’s stressed over everything, right? We’re all trapped here, and nobody can kill anyone to get out. Not that it’s the latter rule for why she’s upset, but everyone’s on edge with how claustrophobic everything is, right?” 

Leon groaned, slapping his forehead. “Dude, I ain’t saying that Kyoko doesn’t have emotions, but this is completely off-kilter based on what Chihiro-chan’s saying! It doesn’t make sense when we’ve seen how she operated before!” 

“I dunno how exactly to process this… you’d think girls be more sensitive than guys…” Hifumi dwelled, thinking to himself before turning to Taka. “Master Taka, you’re awfully quiet. Something the matter?” 

“H-Huh?! Oh, you need not worry. I was just…” Taka said with a grumpy sigh. “…well, thinking. Ever since Chihiro-chan broke the news, I’m trying

to think of anything that would coincide with her acting this way. But nothing really comes to mind…” 

All five simply sat there, grumbling. But it wasn’t long before Makoto found his footing, and stood up. 

“I’m going to see if I can’t follow Kyoko around and get an idea what’s going on.” Makoto proclaimed, loudly. 

Everyone looked at Makoto like he grew a second head, especially Hifumi. “H-Huh?! But wouldn’t she not appreciate being followed around?” 

“Honestly, I have a gut feeling that there’s already something following Kyoko around.” Leon began, cracking his knuckles. “Anyone’s who’s doing that is officially gonna get socked.” 

“Y-You’re telling me somebody’s stalking a student on school grounds?! Unacceptable!” Taka bellowed, standing up impassioned. “That is completely unacceptable for a school environment! And most of all creepy!” 

“Y-Yeah, count me in. Maybe we shouldn’t look into this...” Chihiro began, softly. “To be honest, I wanna make sure she’s okay first and foremost… maybe we should – “ 

“Guys,” Makoto said with a sigh. “We can’t draw attention to ourselves over this. Let me do some scouting around, okay? Please?” 

“But Makoto, I…” Leon grumbled. “Ugh, fine. But if ya get found and cause her to panic, don’t come crying to me, ya hear?” 

“Yeah… just try to be safe is all I’m asking.” Taka began, softly. “I’d hate to see her further upset in all this.” 

“Yeah…” Makoto said, nodding. “Thanks. Wish me luck.” 

It wasn’t long before the short Luckster walked off. Hifumi simply looked on, incredulous.

“To be honest, this is kinda worrying to begin with.” Hifumi said with a sigh. “Having to check up on Kyoko is a sign things have gone wrong. But then again, what can any of us do?” 

“Dude, if someone’s been hurting her, I’m gonna blow a fucking gasket. But that’s assuming I won’t try to reach out to her first.” Leon simply leaned back, sipping in his Gatorade. “Man, Kyoko-chan, I know I felt you were cute when you emoted but this…” 

Leon sighed. “…this is worrisome.”

Kyoko found herself wandering through the third floor aimlessly. She decided to go down a floor to help assist in her not trying to even have herself be caught, but… the more she thought about it, the more she utterly grew to despise the predicament she found herself in. 

She hated it. She hated the helplessness, she hated her walking into traps constantly, she hated everything about what Junko’s doing to her. But if Kyoko could safely say what she probably hated the most about this, is that she couldn’t even accurately predict what Junko’s next move is nor when it’ll happen. There was a seemingly off-kilter gap between each time everything happened, and that gave worries to when she’ll… 

“Hiya, Failure-chan!” 

…strike next. 

A chill ran down her spine as she heard that same, sing-along voice that barely hid the demon within. But as she spun around to hear the voice from afar, she found two slender arms wrap around her waist, eliciting a squeal from Kyoko. She blanched immediately and froze, trembling as she identified the same scalding hot touch and temperature from the person who abused her. 

One Junko Enoshima.

“Aww, why’re you giving me such a long look, Failure-chan?” Junko said in a teasing voice, giggly and sultry together. “No hard feelings over last night, right?” 

Kyoko would’ve normally come up with a snappy retort in this instance, but all she could do was turn blue in shock and immediately tear up as waves upon waves of trauma came pouring back, she took a deep breath to scream… 

…and Junko covered her mouth, causing the howl to go relatively muted. Junko’s hand felt two trickles of tears from Kyoko’s eyes, but before Kyoko could panic further, she wrapped her hands and knuckles around Kyoko’s chest and pushed on her esophagus, knocking the air out of her lungs. 

“Oh, come on! I have no intent on hurting you here! Don’t be a baby!” Junko said, giggling. “Look, why don’t I treat you nice for today, okay? No rape, no torture… just something you deserve to have after screwing up so badly. A bit of a… consolation prize.” 

Underneath the airy tone, there was a clear undercurrent of malice to be found. But Kyoko was too shocked to realize it. She coughed, sobbed, but fell limp on the floor. Junko simply clicked her tongue and hoisted the limp Kyoko up by her arm, and then around her shoulder. 

“Like I said, you and I are gonna have a girl’s night out.” Junko said, kissing Kyoko on the cheek to the latter’s immediate flinch. “Nothing but the two of us… and what you deserve.” 

What I… deserve…? 

Kyoko’s mind couldn’t think. Whatever Junko did to knock the air out of her, she did it in a way that rendered her completely numb in some areas. All she could do was carry in and out of consciousness second and second, her mind flickering like a broken light that needed to be fixed if not to be consumed in total darkness.

………

…… 

… 

Hahahahahahahahahahaha! Oh, man! You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?! 

Stop it… 

Seriously, you fell for it! You completely fell for it! Kyoko Motherfucking Kirigiri, the Ultimate Detective, walking into this shit like the whore you are! Seriously, aren’t you some kind of masochist at this point, letting yourself get fucked up like this?! It’s beyond sad! Seriously! But it’s fucking hilarious all the same! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! 

Stop it – 

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAH! 

STOP IT! 

Hahahahahaha… haaah… oh, man, that was a good laugh. But the fact you couldn’t even rebuke me should be telling in more ways than one… Miss Failure-chan. 

D-Don’t call me that, please… 

Why shouldn’t I? It’s only fitting for what you deserve at this point, you little shit. Whatever comes outside of this haze, believe me, it ain’t a tender mercy. You have a big brain on you, kid, so you can tell me that all Junko wants to see happen to you is for you to suffer, isn’t that right?! 

I… but that’s… 

*sigh* Alright, y’know what? Let’s be a bit generous here for a change. Let’s just assume for a second that Junko’s not screwing you over and is giving you a fair shake here. If that the case, then tell me something. You ready?

B-But – 

Do you think you’re smart enough to get yourself out of the hands of a genius like her? Especially compared to you? 

… 

… 

… 

…and ya can’t even refute what I have to say, can you? Some detective you are. 

… 

… 

… 

…… 

………

When Kyoko woke up outside of her haze, she felt herself be dragged over to the laundry room, still in a deep haze. She still, for whatever the reason of how Junko struck her, couldn’t move much without feeling winded, but 

she soon found herself be able to move on her own two feet… but she wasn’t going to make it easy for Junko. 

“L-Let – “ Kyoko gasped, straining over the girl. “L-Let go of me this instant – “ 

It was only so much time Kyoko found herself pushed into the laundry room. She barely regained her footing, but with her muscles still numb from whatever that strike was – she could only hazard a guess if Junko knew pressure points – she found herself seeing a familiar running machine, still going on.

As well as a whirl of leather brown as well. 

“Th…” Kyoko began, mouthing in shock as tears returned in full. “T-Those are my – “ 

“Gloves? Why, my dearest Failure-chan!” Junko said with a carefree smirk. “I’ve decided to run all your dirty gloves in the washing machine while you were up pacing up and down upstairs. And, uh, hehe… well, I’d hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it seems they’ve, uh…” 

In that moment, Junko opened the washing machine, causing the water to drain and spill out a bunch of shriveled gloves. 

“Well… dried up.” Junko batted her eyelashes. “But you forgive me for that, right?” 

Kyoko looked on in abject horror. She thought she had any chance of getting back her gloves after what Junko did to steal them from her, but with them shriveled up to a size far too small for her to use… it made something in her shatter like glass. Tears swelled up in her eyes, and for the first time in a long while, Kyoko was speechless. 

“Aww, but I tried at least, right…?” Junko said with a pout. “Don’t look so grumpy! This is for your own good more than anything.~” 

Kyoko felt her heart sink in that moment, and in that moment, she began weeping gently. Tears rolled down her eyes as she realized she couldn’t use her gloves anymore, not while trapped with fifteen other people. Kyoko felt herself tremble, and not even in anger, just confusion, she glanced over to Junko trying to parse what was said. 

“W-Why…? Why?” Kyoko sobbed, shaking. “W-Why d-do this…?” 

Junko giggled, and then ruffled Kyoko’s hair – causing the girl who likes her hair straight to immediately flinch. “Oh, silly. I told you the other night, and you still haven’t figured out? Your friends, your precious herbivore Makoto-kun, he’s just eyeing you as a potential catch more than anything. And trust me, he’ll fuck you way harder and way worse than I ever will.

Who’s to say he doesn’t invite the other guys? Leon’s stamina, Taka’s fat cock… I should know, I have camera footage of them masturbating to the thought of fucking cuties like you. Maybe even the girls could join in trying to vent about being lower on the pecking order than those born with balls, hmm?” 

Kyoko trembled, unable to formulate words or process this. Junko simply clicked her tongue and shook her head. 

“Oh, this isn’t gonna work.” Junko said with a smile, grabbing something she hid behind the washing machine. “Bend over, Failure-chan. Your best buddy’s gonna take you for a walk.~” 

Even as Kyoko was still numb in horror, she immediately jolted awake seeing the leash and collar in her hands. Kyoko instinctively tried to scramble away, but Junko was too fast for her; with just minimal struggling, Kyoko was leashed and kicked down on the ground. Junko’s own soles did well to keeping her on her hands and knees, and Kyoko sobbed. She was, to put it lightly, utterly and incontrovertibly miserable. 

It wasn’t long before Junko pulled the leash, dragging a weeping and teary eyed Kyoko along. “C’mon, bacon-hands. We’re gonna clean you up a bit at the sauna.~” 

And just like that, both girls left… seemingly oblivious to the short boy who’s arrived on the scene mere moments earlier, eyes wide in shock.

The time in the walk to the sauna was, mercifully, short. After arriving, Kyoko was quickly stripped of her clothes, as was Junko, and Kyoko couldn’t help but be extremely disquieted seeing the Mastermind naked. She was gorgeous undressed, and that just made Kyoko feel even more eager to hurl. Nevermind the fact she felt jealous compared to the lithe, pink-haired Mastermind’s form, and it only just made her feel all the more sickened with herself. 

Perhaps mercifully, Junko removed the collar and simply had Kyoko pulled along by her arm. Much to Kyoko’s embarrassment, Junko smiled as she

gave wind to a collection of soap and lather. Junko simply smiled generously. 

“C’mon, now!” Junko giggled. “Let’s get our lavender-haired princess cleaned up.~” 

Kyoko teared up. “P-Please just let me – EEK!” 

Kyoko squealed as she felt the naked Junko smack her bare ass, immediately causing Kyoko to sob and desperately cover herself. Junko simply gave a toothy grin and smirked. 

“Whoops. Looks like my hand slipped.” Junko said, batting her eyelashes innocently. “Aww, don’t be sad! We’re both girls here. We can have a bit of horseplay like the boys can, can’t we?” 

No, Junko, Kyoko would’ve said, this is not how girls go to the sauna. But she had no courage or confidence at that moment to say that without fearing what Junko would do next, so she found herself dragged along to the far corner of the room and resting on Junko’s thighs. The heat, so soon after being branded and tormented, was as burning hot at it once was, and it made Kyoko want to throw up and cry at that moment. The feeling of Junko’s breasts smooshed against her backside, her heartbeat apparent, made her own race in fear like a prey fearing its predator. But it was not long before Junko grabbed the bodywash and let Kyoko get comfortable… despite that being the last thing she wants. 

“Just so ya know,” Junko said, kissing a flinching Kyoko on the cheek. “This is all Goya and coriander hygiene crap. Beggars can’t be choosers!~” 

Kyoko flinched, trying to walk away, but it wasn’t long before she was finally washed up. Kyoko felt tears run down her eyes again in utter humiliation, trying to squirm away while this demon did purr and continue to go over places she was not comfortable with being touched in, and never was… it made Kyoko sickened. 

In some corner of her brain, her superego tried to find reason to work out between the id and ego, suggesting that maybe she could relax and imagine

someone she’s always had a crush on do this to her, like Makoto… except Makoto would never do this, Makoto would never force himself on her like this, Makoto wouldn’t rape her, Makoto wouldn’t – 

Kyoko hyperventilated, but Junko scooped some of the water into her mouth gagging her scream. The disgusting, base-tasting suds combined with the nauseatingly warm water sent a disgusted movement go through her stomach as all she could do was thrash about… but almost seeming as if on time, Kyoko heard the voice of somebody she desperately wanted to hear. 

“Uh, Kyoko, Junko?! Can you explain what was with that leash-walking?!” 

Kyoko felt a thousand prayers answered, thanking whatever Kami helped her out. But it seems she was cheated short, as Junko pressed against her abdomen, paralyzing her, and rending her unable to speak before she could scream out – 

…and while the hot, burning taste of coriander and Goya soap went down her throat like a noxious fume, Junko did wrap Kyoko’s arms around Junko’s neck, felt Junko’s arms wrap around Kyoko’s waist, and kissed her. 

“Seriously, what on Earth… i-is…” 

And in that moment, Kyoko’s eyes widened realizing Makoto could see her. 

Forget the feeling of Junko’s hot tongue probing in her mouth. Forget the feeling of Junko reaching over to fondle Kyoko’s tender breasts. She felt abject and total pain realizing Makoto looked onwards, blushing uncomfortably, misinterpreting the situation of the two hooking up with each other as opposed to the complete opposite. All completely calculated on the fly. 

“O-Oh… oh… um…” Makoto fidgeted. “S-Sorry, um! G-Good for you. L Lemme just, um, get out now, and… uh…” 

One could almost hear the disappointment in Makoto’s voice, and that made tears flow on Kyoko’s cheeks. Realizing Makoto would never be able

to see her as anything else than the moment she was being forced on by Junko. And with her paralyzed, limp arms wrapped around her neck and obscuring her face of terror, it made certain to an unobservant outside this was consensual. 

Perhaps taking advantage of the situation, Junko used a free hand to wave off Makoto, causing the Luckster to turn red. 

“R-Right! U-Um, s-sorry!” Makoto said, rushing off. “By the way, I’m h happy you and Junko hooked up, Kyoko! B-Bye!” 

And Makoto scrambled out, blushing like crazy.

Makoto barely caught his breath as he ran out, blushing and feeling very turned on, but without any idea of just what to say than express total shock. Kyoko being gay was something Makoto did not expect. Blushing like crazy, he soon found himself gathering his breath in the sauna locker room. 

“W-What… was… that?!” Makoto said with a ragged gasp. “J-Jeez! I didn’t take Kyoko as being into girls! Yeesh…” 

Makoto blushed. It suddenly made sense, realizing why Kyoko was unusually emotive. Kyoko having a gay panic, maybe? Though Makoto didn’t take Kyoko as somebody who’d hook up with someone when she barely interacted with Junko beforehand… 

Makoto simply shrugged, and smiled sadly. He at least knew Kyoko was okay, and that’s what mattered to him. 

“Well, uh… better keep this secret for the team.” Makoto said, blushing. “I’m… happy for you, Kyoko. Ahem…” 

Despite saying that aloud as he walked out the building, he has fears he again assumed the best of the worst. As he would learn, his fears were right.

As Junko pulled Kyoko away in a string of spit, Kyoko did sob, collapsing into the boiling hot water and coughing like crazy, tears on freefall. Kyoko was scared that she didn’t know if it was either planned or improvised, and she hated that… she felt a pit of pure sickness boil in her stomach, trying to 

even begin to comprehend what just happened there. 

“Aww, sorry I was a bit overtly forceful with you, Failure-chan!” Junko giggled, giving a teasing wink. “Buuuut… there isn’t any degree that you don’t deserved to be loved for who your are.” 

Kyoko said almost nothing… except one question, whimpered amid broken sobs as Kyoko turned to her abuser in terror. 

“W… Why?” Kyoko sobbed. “W-Why… m-me? Wh-What did I d-do to… d deserve… this…?” 

Junko giggled darkly, simply walking up to the sobbing Kyoko and cupping her cheeks, steel grey eyes pouring into broken lavender ones. 

“Because like I said: it’s what you deserve."

Chapter Text

“Wait, what?! Makoto, run by it me again, slowly.” 

Makoto paused; he took a moment to take a deep breath in, then out, slowly explaining to Leon, Sayaka and Chihiro, all four of which currently in the dining hall. “Okay, so when I went to check up on Kyoko… she was making out with Junko. In the sauna. And…” A blushing pause, before continuing. “B-Both were naked.” 

“D-Dude, that’s awesome!” Leon’s eyes sparkled. “D-Did they get their hands on each oth – ow!” 

Sayaka’s jab at Leon was enough to remind the red-head of the circumstances, prompting him to shrink back a little. Sayaka grumbled, shaking her head. “Makoto-kun, I appreciate the fact you’ve went on to check how Kyoko was doing, but… is she really to be in such a state as that when she clearly had eyes for you?” 

A long pause occurred; Makoto opened his mouth agape in surprise. “I… hwuh? K-Kyoko was…” 

“Interested in you, yes.” Sayaka sighed, smiling wryly. “She always looked at you and depended on you for quite some time, y’know? Anyways, if she is gay, good on her, but I have the gut feeling it doesn’t line up with what her previous actions are. I suggest you go on to talk to her to make sure she’s okay, alright?” 

Makoto paused, thinking to himself blithely. But it wasn’t long before he nodded slowly. “That… does sounds like a solid idea, honestly. I’ll

definitely make sure I go on to check on her, make sure she’s okay and everything.” 

“Y-Yeah. N-Not my place to interject, b-but, um…” Chihiro smiled. “T-Try also asking Junko about this, w-why don’t you? See if she hasn’t anything she’d like to say on the matter as well.” 

“Chihiro-chan…” Makoto paused, before nodding. “Alright. I’ll definitely make sure I go and check on her, make sure she’s okay. Kyoko… I just want her to be happy, right?” 

“Yeah, totally.” Leon said with a smirk. “If ya want me to come with you, I can see if I can’t help out and all.” 

Sayaka blinked. “Uh, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think – “ 

“Sayaka, please. Leon would definitely be helpful.” Makoto smiled. “Besides, we shouldn’t draw too much attention to ourselves period. The Mastermind’s always watching, remember?” 

It took a moment, but Sayaka relaxed, sighing. “…right, I gotcha. Just… promise me the two of you will remain safe, alright? I’ll be happy to be proven wrong, but I have this hunch that…” 

A pause. Sayaka shook her head, grumbling a bit. “…hehe, nevermind. Good luck Makoto-kun! You too, Leon!” 

“Yep, let’s go do a little more investigatin’.” Leon said with a smile. “C’mon, Makoto.” 

“Yeah, definitely.” Makoto smiled at the red-head acquaintance of his. “Chihiro-chan, you watch over Sayaka, okay?” 

“H-Huh?” Chihiro’s lip quivered, before evolving into a small smile. “Y Yeah, absolutely. Alright g-guys, be safe!” 

Makoto and Leon both nodded with a smile. And with that, they sent off to find Junko, preferably to ask a few more questions in general.

Kyoko Kirigiri was not in a good place right now. 

That was perhaps the ugliest, most abhorrent kind of understatement anyone could ever hope to manage. Was she okay? No. Absolutely not. Here she was, her gloves in tatters (and likely taken care of by Monokuma), having been groped by her, as well as kissed by her to make the sanguine pain worse when Makoto walked in, seeing what he saw and completely misunderstanding it. Kyoko felt humiliated, shallow and worthless… 

…but most of all, she felt numb. 

“I’ll leave you be for now, Failure-chan,” she said. “Have fun! ‘Til next time!” 

That’s what she said. And that’s what scares her. She doesn’t know when ‘next time’ will be, when she will be toyed with again, used, abused, like the complete and utter failure she is – 

…it took Kyoko a moment to realize that in her numb walk away from the sauna, she’s sprinted into a blind run, having circled around the dorms several times. 

Kyoko realized, again, she was pacing around when nobody yet could see her, and that only made her feel more abjectly humiliated. Tears pricked in her eyes, and for the first time, she slumped in the corner of a wall, knelt down, and wept. She sobbed as tears ran from her eyes down her cheeks, feeling utterly mortified by all this. She was the Ultimate Detective! This wasn’t supposed to happen, damnit! 

It took some moments more for Kyoko to realize she was devolving into outright bawling. Her own burnt hands shielded her face, yes, but that was possibly worse than just bearing her face to the world to show how miserable she was at the time. Tears ran down from her face amid a runny nose. Bloodshot eyes and puffed cheeks, making her look like she hasn’t slept in days. Scraggly hairlines where her hair is normally silky and smooth, undoubtedly because Junko fiddled with them hard.

Kyoko loathed to admit it, but she’d take rape over this. At least rape can be unfeeling to her. 

It took a few more moments for her to slump out of her seat and stand up, bitterly weeping. And it was scarcely not long before she heard a familiar, soft voice ask about what was going on. 

“K-Kyoko? Uhhh, is something wrong?” 

She recognized the almost-universally cheerful voice. Kyoko stood up, seeing Aoi Asahina, crossing her arms and looking extremely concerned. 

Not that this helped things, of course. Kyoko’s eyes narrowed towards the dark-skinned swimmer. “…what on Earth do you want? How long have you been watching?” 

Aoi stammered, almost trying to think of a lie, but she took a deep breath and lowered her head in shame, guilty for just seeing the Ultimate Detective at her weakest. “Um… a while.” 

Kyoko gave no response. She simply glared. 

Aoi blinked, looking concerned. “Kyoko-chan… we’re both girls here. You can tell me if something wro – “ 

“I’m fine, goddamn you.” Kyoko broke into a hiss. “Leave. Me. Alone. Now.” 

“B-But Kyo – “ 

“NOW!” 

Kyoko doesn’t think she’s ever raised her voice and yelled at someone for quite some time. Regardless, it worked; Aoi scampered off, and Kyoko was once again left alone in emotional turmoil. As soon as nobody was in sight, Kyoko felt tears break down her face as she emotionally wept. 

“I-I can do this… I w-won’t get… anyone hurt…” Kyoko breathed, barely holding back tears. “N-Not… any more…”

She took a deep breath, and she walked off. When she finally opened the entrance to her door room and plopped on the bed, she practically cried herself to sleep in pure frustration.

“So, you’ve got any luck looking for Junko?” 

Makoto was hopeful when he asked that. As Leon finally descended down the last flight of stairs leading up to the Fifth Floor, the Ultimate Baseball Star shook his head and grumbled. “Nah, dude. Sorry. Junko’s gotta be in her own room or something…” 

“Yeah…” Makoto bit his lip, clearly trying to process this. “She’s probably just busy with stuff on her own end herself. Probably in her own room, or – “ 

“Uh, Makoto? Can I say something honestly?” 

Makoto blinked in surprised when Leon asked that. But it only took one look into the wannabe punk star’s eyes to see what he means. Steel blue eyes normally full of jovial vivacity has given way to total seriousness, a 

goofy, regular smile replaced with a stern frown. Makoto could tell something was off with the mere way Makoto looked, and gently, he nodded, letting the redhead speak. 

“Okay.” Makoto began, nodding. “Is something wrong?” 

“Ah, jeez… where to start…” Leon grumbled. He took a deep breath in, and out, and then spoke. “I… I think something’s wrong. I think Kyoko may be in trouble.” 

It took several seconds for Makoto to process that, all as time crashed to a stop. 

Now, Makoto could hardly call himself the greatest emotional reader of anyone here, but he wanted to be a good friend nonetheless, so he always tried to be receptive to other students’ emotional turmoil. But the more he

thought about it… the more he wondered. But… Kyoko was kissing Junko, right? Couldn’t have something happened in-between? 

Makoto, carefully, spoke his piece while the two wounded up slowly descending each floor down to the First Floor, where the dorms were. 

“I… I don’t get it. Junko was kissing Kyoko… and I think it may be that the two had sex. Which, I’ll admit, is weird given they haven’t interacted much…” Makoto paused; a dawning realization on his face. “Or… at all. A-And as a matter of fact, the two have been avoiding each other, almost as if – “ 

It dawned upon Makoto in that moment. Leon nodded gently. 

“Y-Yeah.” Leon spoke softly. “I think something happened that we don’t know of.” 

A long pause occurred. But it was slowly followed by an ominously silent walk from the third floor down to the second floor. It was only when the two teens arrived on the second floor that Leon finally continued. 

“Makoto… I think the Mastermind may have done something to the both of ‘em.” 

Leon spoke in a quiet tone, a complete far cry from what he usually was like. Makoto stopped in his tracks, still thinking to himself. But it’s already been a slow, ponderous walk together, both teens thinking for a long while about the events of what had to have happened in that time. It took only a moment for Makoto to check his e-Handbook, realizing then the time was 1:00 PM. In that moment, Makoto simply turned to Leon, finally realizing the truth. 

“L-Leon, I…” Makoto began, slowly. “I think Junko could’ve r – “

*shik* 

To the eyes of one Leon Kuwata, the appearance of Junko Enoshima came completely out of nowhere. But Junko’s eyes were… cold, serious. Almost methodical. The truth was, Mukuro Ikusaba had been following them in that time period for what amounted to almost an hour, clearly not wanting the truth unto itself to break out anytime soon. 

But with what Junko shanked Makoto with, it was a syringe that caused the Ultimate Lucky Student’s eyes to roll to the back of his socket. And soon, he’s collapsed in a total heap on the floor. Leon barely had time to respond at “Junko” lunged for him. 

“J-Junko?! W-What’re you – “ 

A quick methodical strike to the neck’s pressure point was all that was needed to knock Leon out cold, hardly any sedatives needed. Regardless, both boys were slumped on the floor, and with it, the eyes of “Junko” simply sighed, shaking her head. 

“I’m sorry, Leon. I’m sorry… Makoto.” Mukuro began. “You weren’t supposed to know that yet.” 

It wasn’t long before someone would find the two unconscious, and both Leon and Makoto were scooped under trained arms to be brought to the A/V Room, where the Mastermind’s dwelling lied.

“Ah, welcome back! I take it you’ve addressed some of those… loose ends?” 

Mukuro Ikusaba gave no response to Junko’s joyful and sing-song greeting of her older twin sister. The Ultimate Soldier simply placed the wig on a nearby table, and put Leon and Makoto’s unconscious bodies down on the floor, completely unconscious. 

Along with them, too, was one Aoi Asahina, likewise completely knocked out. 

“Look, I know you’re the ‘Ultimate Soldier’ and shit, but even I’m impressed. You’ve actually managed to bring them all back!” Junko grinned. “You cheeky motherfucker! Way to go, Mucky-butt.”

Mukuro gave no response. She simply glared over towards Junko, taking virtually no pleasure in what was to come next. “Are you going to wipe their memories or not?” 

Junko’s smile quickly reversed into a frown, all before the Ultimate Despair rolled her eyes and groaned. “Ugh, fine. You’re as dull as ever, ya cheap slut.” Ignoring of the subtle shudder of pleasure that came from those mocking words, Junko grabbed another syringe – an amnestic she coded to give false memories of the events prior – and stuck it, one by one into each of their veins. It would’ve taken a ton of time for anyone to not only make amnestics, but amnestics that were coded specifically to give fake memories to each, probably within a mere few months. Not Junko. All she needed was a few minutes, at most. She was the Ultimate Analyst, after all. 

“Alright, there! They oughta remember falsely now.” Junko looked on at Mukuro. “I assume you’re gonna put them exactly where I’ve told you in your e-Handbook?” 

Mukuro brought up the secret “developer’s mode” of the e-Handbook with a few coded, lengthy swipes, scrolled through, and winced. Nonetheless nodding after a brief silence, she was quick to put the e-Handbook in her backpack as a result. “...to the letter. All three here would come to an alibi why they’ve disappeared for some time.” 

“Excellent!” Junko grinned. “For fuck’s sake, people are already peering in too soon already? Not even when all the fun stuff began…” 

As the Ultimate Despair giggled evilly, Mukuro crossed her arms. “Sister… your mission was to bring despair to the whole world by having the sixteen Ultimates kill each other. Not take the girl as you own personal sex slave.” 

“Aw, c’mon, Mucky-butt! Lighten up a little.~” Junko giggled, spinning her seat. “If ya wanna make instant ramen, you gotta add some water first… before mixing said water with cyanide for those interesting in a bite, of course. Speaking of…” 

Junko got up from her seat, walking over to cook a meal all to herself. Mukuro visibly grumbled in frustration as Junko happily hummed to herself, watching in that moment the Ultimate Despair cook herself some instant ramen.

“Junko, listen.” Mukuro began, softly. “The entire world is being broadcast what’s occurring here. We agreed to this to have the world lose hope by getting Japan’s brightest to kill each other. What’s the point in direct sexual abuse to one person when your ideology means we should do it for all? Much less given we’re stopping the Killing Game on top of it? I know you can multi-task, Junko, so why – "

Mukuro was interrupted by Junko slamming, perhaps a bit too hard, the microwave door into the machine before cooking her ramen.

“Because,” Junko turned over to her sister with a sanguine smile, all while the microwave hummed, “it’s to prove a point, Mucky-butt.”

A short pause occurred. Mukuro blinked. “I’m sorry?”

Junko shook her head, clicking her tongue. “Look, Mukuro. Sometimes you gotta send a message to the world that despair is the only true way to live the world. But sometimes, likewise, you gotta say up-front that you should never, ever fuck with Junko in a way she doesn’t like. Skullfucking me and pissing over my cadaver? Hot as hell. But lecturing me with the hope of giving me a chance of “redemption”? Give me a fucking break.”

Mukuro had no response. Junko continued, all with a small smile on her face

“Again – this is to prove a point.” Junko smiled evilly. “To prove even the fuckin’ headmaster’s daughter, the purveyor of this asinine “Hope’s Peak Academy” full of hypocrisy and lies, can be brought to a level of such misery that it loops back to being euphoria. You can teach someone with enough abuse they actually like it, Mukuro. Or, for that matter, you can abuse someone until they submit at last. Either way works, as it brings despair – Makoto, Sayaka, Chihiro, fellas like them would be easy to crack, but Kyoko? Much as I fucking hate her guts more than anyone, she’s a strong woman. So imagine the kinds of shit I’d have to do to get her on her knees begging for mercy – or better yet, give her such a terrible self-esteem that she wants to be abused more! Hah, whadda fuckin’ riot!”

As Junko cackled, she simply leered. “Point is... this is to break her. Prove the world something. Yes, I do it for the sex, yes, I do it ‘cuz it’s fun, and yes, I do it because I’m a fuckin’ sadist. But I also find shtupping her as sexually arousing as fucking a snail; this is to prove a point, Mukuro... and show the world something they will never forget.”

*ding!*

“Ah, ramen’s ready!~” Junko opened the microwave to unpeel the steaming hot ramen. “Now... I hope I’ve made myself clear?”

Mukuro, though she was trained to follow orders without question, still felt horrible deep down with what was happened. But slowly, agreeingly, Mukuro nodded. “No other questions.”

“Good! Now get back out there, with the others.” Junkos twirled her seat facing the camera. “Afterwards, get back in character. We’ve got our... work cut out for us here.”

As if to emphasize her point, she brought up the camera to Kyoko’s room. She was fast asleep, likely from her resigning from the events of today, but with an undoubted streak or two of tears staining her face, as well as a wracked bedside likely from a thrashing, sobbing tantrum. Mukuro simply sighed, and brought the three bodies on her back to the outside.

Junko simply smiled. And with that, she grabbed a handful of the instant noodles with her chopsticks and slurped it all down.

“...man, this ramen tastes like ass.”

Chapter Text

It’s only been a few days, and yet Kyoko Kirigiri feels like she hasn’t slept in ages.

She knew that wasn’t necessarily her fault, for once, as she went to bed early and slept soundly throughout the day. In fact, she perhaps overslept for that matter. Not that the usual timing of everything now that the Killing Game’s been put on pause even matters, but even so, Kyoko constantly waged war with a feeling of physical and mental exhaustion bubbling deep within herself.

It was clearly threatening to take over, inevitably: the way her normally straightened out hair was a mess of strands not lining up to each other, having inelegantly cried herself to sleep the night before, the way her tongue was dry and cotton-like and she was already so devoid of any reason to go outside that she wanted to curl up here... she honestly began asking at this stage if there even was any reason for her, when her own dorm was the safest place to be. It was such a sense of earnest hopelessness that she’d probably have cried herself to sleep by now if she didn’t feel so exhausted.

Perhaps forebodingly, she glanced over at the clock to see the time. Sniffling a bit, she bit her lip trying not to cry upon seeing it was 11:03 AM. She’s really overslept, hasn’t she?

She got out of bed, trying to straighten out her hair into something presentable, as well as try to hide her clear exhaustion underneath her tired, fearful eyes. She tried her hand at a shower (without looking at that hideous, ugly, disgusting brand on her crotch, that which shall not be named), but she realized even now she couldn’t handle anything hotter than a slightly hot shower. Upon feeling her nausea build up as memories of intense, swelling pain and heat came back to her, she immediately turned the shower to the coldest setting to bring down a torrent of hypothermia to make the agony go away.

She sniffled, trying not to cry. She unfortunately failed, because at the rate she was going, that's all she could do, wasn't it?

The thought, as always, began with Kyoko trying to think of happier times– how proud her dad was of her for solving her first mystery, her birthdays, her on-and-off friend... but then it soon became apparent that most of her happiest memories only involved her father. She then realized that there was no way Jin would even glance at her the same way she did before over what’s happened to her now. Not anymore. At best, she’d see her as a defiled porcelain doll in need of overmanagement, wouldn’t he? After all, she was too stupid to walk out of this mess by herself, when everything else was just a maelstrom of fuck-ups and helplessness –

...it took a moment for Kyoko to realize that she was bawling her eyes out, hyperventilating as the cold water burned at her skin like an icy fire. And here she was, huddling in the corner of the shower, holding onto the soap and desperately trying to scrub herself clean of the taint – not just what Junko did to her, but the feelings of disgust knowing she’ll never be good enough to be anything less than an object of pity in Jin’s eyes. She deserved this, didn’t she? She once again roared her hands over the fire, and got burned.

All that was left, now, was tears and pain. Her skin turned white from the sheer cold surrounding the shower, but that’s all she could do. It was her only solace amid the torrent of fiery pain roasting her alive, amid abject helplessness and misery... if there was a moment she deserved this for, it was now.

She’d never be good enough in the eyes of her family again. She knew this. And not because she’s the Ultimate Detective.

It’s because she isn’t.

In spite of herself, Kyoko realized she was getting hungry from missing out breakfast and went over to the cafeteria. Or rather... the front entrance.

Kyoko was a mess behind closed doors right now, but she can at least fake it until she makes it. Couldn’t she? That was the one thing she could do at this rate, was try her damnedest to act like nothing was wrong with her. She took a deep breath, in and out.

You can do this, Kyoko. Just... pretend nothing’s happened. And don’t make eye contact with... her. Kyoko felt a pit of nausea at this point thinking about her. The girl who was playing impostor as Junko’s own aide at this
point. Mukuro, was it? She knew if she tried anything, people would die for it, but... it was almost tempting imagining her die in a variety of horrible countless ways. Possibly with her skin flayed and heart ripped out of her chest and shown to her. Imagining all the painful ways in which Junko could die made her heart flutter and her anxiety lessen...

But she knew it was better to not think about it, by now. With a deep breath and an attempt at a stoic poker face, she entered the cafeteria, to be greeted with the sound of the students chattering away.

“No, no, no! Mondo, what you’re referring to isn’t an allegro! It’s a tenor!” Leon said, rolling his eyes.

Mondo guffawed. It seemed that the two were talking about music. “W-Well fuck you, then! ‘Sides, aren’t you, like, the Ultimate Baseball Star or shit?! How’dja even know of that shit?!”

As the blabbering continued, Kyoko felt her chest tighten up as she immediately as “Junko” notice her and simply stare. And the look seemed hurt.

Almost on cue, “Junko” winced. And without uttering a word, pointed directly at Kyoko, an almost flawlessly-acted fear present in her eyes.

Almost everyone stopped their conversing immediately, and slowly turned to Kyoko, who was stopped in her tracks. Junko looked scared, almost genuinely so, but the words made clear to Kyoko she was lying... why wasn’t she? But as everyone looked on at Kyoko with an assortment of glares and hateful glances, Kyoko felt no short part of anxiety trickle down her spine.

“Well, well.” Byakuya sneered, raising his head in pompous disgust. “So, the abuser herself decides to come onwards? I’ll say, Kyoko, you’re not as good at this whole liar’s business, huh?”

...wait, what?

Kyoko paused for a second, trying to withhold her internal panic. What the hell was going on? Those were the thought she would’ve asked herself if she didn’t feel a sting of panic overcome her, one that took all of her willpower to quell. What about her being the ‘abuser’?! Weren’t they blind?! As possibilities of all kinds darted through the back of Kyoko’s head, she froze, uncertain of what to say, before biting her lip, trying not to cry.

Regardless, Kyoko responded in a shaky, genuine tone. “I-I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to. Honestly, this is all news to me as well.”

“Really?” Leon stood up from his seat to give a hateful glare at Kyoko. “Heh, that’s funny. I almost don’t recall what Makoto confessed to me and what Aoi saw what you did to Junko. Isn’t that right?!”

Kyoko bit her lip, trying not to panic – and visibly failing, as she began going white as a sheet as she nobly attempted to look away... or not-so-nobly, as tears began budding in her eyes. A chorus of murmurs then emerged from the students in tandem.

“I-I knew what I saw was the real deal.” Aoi spoke in a tearful tone, one underlying of utter fury. “Kyoko-chan... why? Why did you assault Junko like that?!”

“No!”

Kyoko spoke out, loudly, stomping her foot into the ground. Why the hell did anyone think of this like her?! She was innocent! She’d never do something like that, at least she thought she wouldn’t – Kyoko has barely any faith in herself by now, but certainly not enough to keep her questions down.

“I-I wouldn’t ever! Don’t you get that?!” Kyoko spoke out loudly, losing composure. “I was c-crying by myself in the – “

“Liar.” Sakura objected, her towering frame standing up as she looked furious. “It was Junko who was found like that by Aoi. Haven’t you any shame?”

“Y-You... fucking liar... pervert...” “Junko” said through strained tears, before slamming her fist on the table.

Kyoko grimaced. “N-No, you’re – “

“Shut up and stop spinning this liar’s bullshit!” “Junko” screamed in the midst of her breakdown, tears streaking from her eyes. “You dragged me to the sauna to do all that shit to me in front of Makoto! FUCK OFF, YOU LYING BITCH!”

Kyoko, being called a ‘lying bitch’ by the one-for-one doppelganger of her rapist, hitched something in Kyoko’s throat. “I-I never – "

And just like that, it became all and clear to hear what everyone was so bad about.

Chihiro cried, visibly disappointed. “I d-don’t get it. Why? We trusted you, Kyoko...”

“Pfft! ‘We’? You’re talking to a bona fide liar, Chihiro!” Hifumi flared, looking visibly disgusted. “Look! She’s even faking that scared look on her face!”

“You have a lot of nerve just strolling in and acting what Junko’s devolved to us. In detail.” Sayaka, normally a bubbly girl, was chillingly cold in her anger. “She told us everything – how you made her walk on all fours, how you sexually assaulted her – what the hell’s your problem?! This is completely low of you, Kyoko-chan!”

And just like that, the Ultimate Detective’s composure splintered in two.

Kyoko felt her breath hitch even more, her heartbeat continue pounding. No. No, they got it all wrong! She was the one who was victimized, not Junko! Thoughts of all kinds began rushing her head as the angry, discontent murmurs swarmed around her, with one by one, the students either remaining seated or getting up to talk about it with her... by force, if necessary. Mondo cracked his knuckles, to prove a point.

“No! NO! PLEASE, I’M TELLING THE TRUTH!” Kyoko cried out,flinching at the slowly-amassing crowd. “I-I was raped by Junko, not the other way around! You have it wrong!”

“LIAR! FUCKING! LIAR!” “Junko” screamed, tears of fear and anger all over her face. “Stop trying to distort the truth you fucking IDIOT!” The murmurs soon began to swarm angrily around her, with all except Makoto, Byakuya and Hiro getting up from their seats – Makoto having a visible, omnipresent look of disappointment written all over his face, glancing over at Kyoko in that moment.

“N-No... please, I’m t-telling the truth...” Kyoko spoke feebly, trying to maintain her rapidly-disintegrating composure. “P-Please, Makoto, believe me, I’m sorry – “

Suddenly, “Junko” snapped, tears streaking from her eyes. “Believe you?! Why the fuck should I believe the person who forced herself on me like that?! FUCK OFF, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! TO HELL WITH YOU!”

“No! NO! Please, you got it wrong!” Kyoko screamed out, hugging herself as she began breathing rapidly. “I’m sorry, I’M SORRY, PLEASE BELIEVE ME – "

...and why should you believe yourself? You can’t be trusted to do
anything on your own.

I... can’t?

Kyoko froze as the mocking voice echoed in her mind. But only enough for a second to bring her back down to the now irate mob surrounding her, chanting, hollering at and insulting her.

“You rapist asshole!”

“Lock her up!”

“To hell with you!”

“Fuck off, you perv!”

“Everything’s your fault!”

“Why should we trust you!”

“FUCKER!”

...it all turned to be too overwhelming of a maelstrom of furor and self- loathing. Did... did she deserve this? She couldn’t even fend off what’s happened to her, let alone see the truth of the matter... and that was the shattering thought. The mere possibility that this was the result of her own projection and incomplete perspective, someone who prided on seeing the truth, caused everything that held up Kyoko’s mind in one unified bannister to come crashing.

All this time, she was blind. And she, once again, though she could see the truth for what she felt it was.
 

And now you finally understand no why you can’t noplease be trusted in
pleaseSTOP the STOP slightest NO

I’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSRRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYIMSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’MSORRYI’M SORRYI’MSORRY

Kyoko clutched her head, and then – in a blind moment of utter agony – shedid the only thing she could to drown out the relentless drumbeat of sorrowin her head.

She screamed.

She then ran. And ran. And ran. All the screaming she emitted between choking sobs, organic white noise and a cacophony of misery was to drown out the pounding in her head, what felt like a snide, obstinate laughter echoing in her mind as she ran as far as her legs could carry her, up as many stairs as she could manage until the angry voices surrounding her became drowned out by the sound of her own sobs. The trip, therein, was a blur of messy pictures and feelings of self-loathing and hatred, insecurity and misery, pain, misunderstanding, weaknesses as she ran, only being interrupted between her droning out of the world around her by what felt like her throat being peeled open and lit ablaze and –

After what felt like an eternity of blind, directionless running only half-conscious to the obstacles in her path, long after the chorus of angry students faded out, Kyoko swarmed into what seemed like a classroom and
broke down sobbing.

Her throat was horse from all the screeching and pleading. She barely considered herself coherent as the nauseating thoughts of responsibility, weakness, failure continued to drone onto her like a miasmic toxin of hatred and self-loathing. It was pressing onto her like a boiling revilement churning deep inside of herself, almost akin the searing flesh that she was scourged off by the brand. She hated this. She hated everything about this. But she hated herself more than anything. For being so stupid this entire time, so utterly blind to any semblance of the truth that she would sooner
see what was in front of her than confront the truth –

“Hello there, Failure-chan! Didn’t realize you came to see me.~”

...and almost like that, the switch in Kyoko’s mind flicked back “on” again.

The Ultimate Detective’s clenched, tear-streaming eyes opened to realize she ran blindly into what looked like a horror set. A disjointed, upheaved and anarchical room that looked like everything around it was thrown about the place in that mess. Blood streaked onto the floors, the walls, writing all kinds of dried blood writing that made the whole thing look nauseous to
Kyoko. Blood like what happened to her when it felt like she was tearing her apart. Though speaking of her, she then looked up to see the voice, ever mocking, and gave way to Junko tilting her head for a second.

“Jesus, you look like a fuckin’ mess.” Junko snorted. “What, screaming and sobbing through the floors wasn’t enough for you?”

Kyoko froze, looking at her abuser like a deer in headlights. She almost didn’t respond given her voice was as hoarse as it could get, but all she could do was let loose a raspy whimper before only having enough time to react to make it a few steps, all before Junko grabbed her hand.

And that’s when her screaming started anew. Screams of pain and tears, all prologues to the horrible touch she endured for so long... and really, as much as one could scream given all the throat-rending Kyoko’s been doing moments early.

“Please, let go! LET GO!” Kyoko squirmed and sobbed, her voice hoarse and feeling like it was torn apart and on fire, all while a pitiable sense of weakness overcame her as she realized she came again to take what she had on her for so long. “PLEASE!”

Her pleas went unanswered. Junko, brandishing the cuffs in her pocket, cuffed her to what seemed to be some sort of wall hook, immediately locking her in as she tried to squirm about – again, to no avail. Junko did brandish a key therein and locked the classroom door. All Junko could manage was an indignant snort.

“Y’know, it’s almost funny, Failure-chan. Maybe you and your retarded-ass self would’ve realized it by now, being the “Ultimate” Detective and all.” Junko cackled darkly, simply walking up to her. “This room was somewhere no one’s entered in yet. It’s funny to think about, too; I’d have Monokuma happily explain to all of you idiots why you’re trapped here, and yet...” A click of her tongue. “...none of you got any closer to the truth. Just like you haven’t gotten any closer to why you’re even here, you slutty little skank.”

Kyoko tried to claw her hand away from the cuff; she didn’t care how many scrapes and bruises ripping herself from the cuff was going to bring, she needed to escape. But how could she trust herself to do the right thing? This was pathetic, being caught again by the woman who enjoyed seeing to her a sick ministration of toxic companionship. The most she could do, then, was
look pleadingly at Junko, feelings of misery overwhelming her as Junko smiled. But almost like that, Junko switched tones, fluttering her eyes innocently, and giving almost an ingenue sound to her voice.

“The truth is...” Junko began. “...is that this is the best possible outcome for you.”

Kyoko pursed her lips, pausing numbly at that. ...w-what?

“Hah! That look on your face says it all. But you have gotta see the recordings I’ve saw of the other students’ thoughts on you. Even your precious little Makoto-kun.” Junko’s mentioning of Kyoko’s friend held a
mocking and smarmy tone to it, before she strolled up gently and raised Kyoko’s head with her fingers on her chin. This action completely ignored the shuddering sob as the touch-sensitive Kyoko felt familiar fingers she didn’t want.

“Let me put it like this, you little sissy faggot.” Junko licked her lips lasciviously. “Taka wants to fuck you. So does Leon. And Mondo. And Hiro. And Chihiro. And especially Hifumi and Togami. They all see you as a cumdump, just in the same way the rest of the girls would be happy to exploit you like the piece of shit weakling you are. And yet you misconstrued your own weakness as a strength, didn’t you? How you tried to fuck with my sister because of your own feelings of dickless inadequacy?”

Kyoko cried weakly, shuddering messy sobs emitting from her raw throat. “S-Stop... n-not true...”

“Is it? Are you so certain about that, Failure-chan?!” A laugh emitted from Junko’s lips, all before her left hand pulled at her bra, happily revealing some cleavage of the pink-haired girl. Giving an aroused hum, she then leaned on top of Kyoko, and let her fingers snake all the way into her skirt, past her panties –

“STOP! PLEASE, PLEASE STOP!” Kyoko screeched as she began bawling. “PLEASE DON’T TOUCH ME THERE! PLEASE! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMO – "

Almost as if on cue, Junko’s hand smacked Kyoko, before covering her mouth altogether with the hand. As Kyoko’s screams were then muted under the hand, Junko leaned in, her eyes bearing a powerful leer into Kyoko’s fearful orbs. And in that moment, Junko grinned, like a predator ready to devour ever conceivable reaction.

“Ssssh... relax. I promise, this’ll be a quickie, Failure-chan.” Junko spoke with nary a lack of condescending “love”. “You raped my sister. Just like what’s written there – eye for an eye, right?”

...Kyoko’s eyes widened as she saw what the writing was finally, now that it was pointed out to her. Not that it stopped Junko. With a single chuckle, she pushed Kyoko’s head back –

“Bend over.”

...and her fingers went in, triggering a raucous concert of muffled screeches and sobs. All that was certain, then, was that Junko had no intention to stop.

Mukuro Ikusaba honestly wondered at this stage what point there was.

Truly, what was the point? What was it? It wasn’t even more than a day ago when Junko went on her tangent illustrating why she was doing all of this. When Junko admitted it was all to prove a point, Mukuro realized then that it felt beyond going past a certain point and diving straight into the event horizon. The whole thing just seems so excessive altogether that the Ultimate Soldier felt no lack of shame knowing she was responsible for it.

As she rested back on her seat, a wayward glance over to a syringe revealed to any passive observer what she did – she wiped the memories of those that bore witness or heard of Kyoko’s dilemma and replaced them with fake memories. It was only for a while, then, that the drug would permeate through their system before ending in about a week. It was certainly enough time to make do with the circumstances, but even then Mukuro never liked screwing with the classmate’s memories all to facilitate what was practically a petty fit of vengeance.

Perhaps that’s why Mukuro felt like after all she had a hand in, she wouldn’t be able to look at Makoto in the eye again.

Mukuro slumped back, and gave an uncharacteristically depressed sigh. But it was not long before a familiar cackle resonated outside the other corridor where the Enoshima Twins’ hideout were, before Junko came back and clasped her hands together, grinning happily.

“Ahahahahahaha! Ohhh, what a fuckin’ riot!” Junko said with nary a lack of glee after her face, a considerable achievement given the depravity she just enjoyed mere moments earlier. “Man, Mukuro, remind me to get some recordings for some other time, yeah? Failure-chan’s slutty little reaction were priceless. HA!”

Mukuro glanced over, paying as little heed to Junko’s cackling as she needs for her temper’s sake. “Will you stop? Trying to contemplate for a moment.”

Junko simply clicked her tongue. “Oh, dearest Mucky-butt. What, you still thinking about a basic inevitability in life? How some people deserve to be on the pecking order lower than other – “

“No, and you know it. I just cannot stand that sort of lecherous idiocy of yours!” Mukuro snapped, standing up and seeming much taller than she would be otherwise.

Junko wasn’t mad. In fact, she whistled in approval. “Since when did you grow the ovarian fortitude?”

Mukuro knew it wasn’t wise to continue to press on, so with that in her system, she laid back. “To be honest, if it wasn’t from parts of... jealousy and frustration, I’d be lying.”

“Eh, fair enough! I know you tend to miss our time together, O dearest sister.” As Junko said that last syllable with a little pop (and ignoring Mukuro’s blushing), she went to the control room’s chair, sat down and happily spun on it.

“By the way...” Junko stopped spinning, to grin towards Mukuro. “Ya did a good job with the memory fuckery, Mucky-butt. Just keep in mind that we’d need to have another batch ready soon enough, alright? The memory alteration should only last about a week or so.”

Mukuro shook her head, sighing. Regardless, she maintained another few moments in total silence, simply shaking her head. Regardless, she eventually spoke up, glancing over towards Junko.

“Sister... you’ve long since proven your point to Kyoko.” Mukuro frowned. “Why... why continue?”

Junko didn’t respond at first, but she simply gave an indignant snort. “What, you asking questions you already know the answer to? Do the math, Mucky-butt.”

“I know, but I need to hear it, still.” Mukuro said with a nod. “I... I want to know your reasoning for this and all. Is there any reason for... any of it? Even going beyond proving a point?”

Junko paused, before groaning. “Yeesh, you’re a real pain in my ass, y’know that? Fine, I guess...”

As she stood up, she walked slowly, slowly over to Mukuro. It wasn’t long before Junko leaned her face over uncomfortably close to Junko...

...and then proceeded to snake her hand into Mukuro’s military shorts, triggering a fluttered gasp from Mukuro.

“A-Ahaa – “ Mukuro whimpered, feeling two fingers rub hard against her slit. “S-Stop, I – “

“Tell me, you good little military fuckslut...” Junko breathed in seductively. “What’s the name of the feeling you happen to be feeling? You know the word; the word anyone with a “brain” would use in order to describe being the fuckmeat of their twin sister. So say it. You know the words.”

Mukuro whimpered throbbing her head in pleasure. “D-Des – pair...”

And just like that, the fingers left Mukuro, leaving a highly disappointed whimper emerging from Mukuro’s throat.

“And now you know!” Junko giggled darkly. “So, uh... don’t ask retarded questions like a prissy little faggot, okay, Mucky-butt?~”

Mukuro grit her teeth and rubbed her thighs, almost certainly in no ways unpleasured by her sister – and object of sin – touching her like that. Regardless, she sigh, speaking gravelly. “U-Understood.”

“Good!” Junko grabbed a wig and outfit and tossed it her way. “Now get your shit; you’re free to schlick in the changing stall if you want, I don’t care.”

“R-Right...” A pause occurred as Mukuro got up, ready to leave. “S-Sorry about that...”

And Mukuro was going to go down the hallway when – “

“...Junko.” Mukuro spoke, having one more question. “You’re going to feed Kyoko while she’s held here, are you?”

“Bah. Yeah, I guess.” Junko responded with a shrug. “Can’t fuck with somebody’s soul if they’re starving. Aight, get a move on, Mucky-butt!”

And that was all Mukuro needed to hear. She passed down a doorway and went into the changing room.

.........

......

...
Failure~, failure~, Missy Kyo-chan Failure!~ Heehee!~

Stop! Shut up!

Kyo-chan’s a failure~, because she’s one ugly cum-dump~, who can’t make any reason~, with fat malnourished brain-lump~ -

SHUT THE HELL UP!

Nyahahahahaha! Man, you really get mad when I act that childish, don’t you, Failure-chan?! How you ran away and began screaming like some sort of retarded-ass loon?! NYAH! That was a joy to see, seeing you scramble and squirm!

I am not! Please, stop!

...Or else what? Haven’t you even realized the truth of the matter?

And what’s that, huh?!

...

ANSWER ME!

...do you actually want to know the fact? Aside from the fact we’re two sides of the same coin?

W-Were not! You’re just saying that because...

...

...what?

And you finally realized who I am.

...what are you?

You’re a detective, Failure-chan. Certainly you’d recognize that that voice in your head yearns for escape by any means, right?

Of course! I hate this! I don’t want to be here anym –

Then are you willing to die for that escape?

...

...

...

...

...

...just as I thought. You’re really a coward, you know that?

...

...

...

......

.........

Within that doorway, of course, lied a sight that almost certainly added a new meaning to the word “ravaged”.

Kyoko Kirigiri was cuffed with two cuffs to the post of a bed and almost certainly disheveled with her clothes torn, her pants, tops and undergarments ripped to shreds and exposing her perk breasts and exposed slit. She was gagged with a red ballgag with wiffle holes and a cloth blindfold, feeling tears and drool streak down her faze as she mumbled incoherently – a fact undeniably apparent with an injection in her right arm.

Cum was spattered over her breasts and having seeded her entrance therein. The least she can do, in this lurid state of self-loathing and pure despair, was whimper and sob while living a lucid dream of pure fear that it felt like she would never wake from.

The good news is, though, that whatever god watching her would free her from the dream in a week... but that’s also the bad news.

No one god, it felt, would even think she’d last that long.

Chapter Text

A whole day had passed since Kyoko stormed off after the accusations thrown at her and disappeared.

In the absence of Kyoko for what was notable within the time proceeding after her apparent screaming fit, everyone grew to be a bit worried, to say the least. Not so worried, given what she pulled with Junko earlier, but everyone still had at least a slight concern over where she went off to... much less with the theory going about that Kyoko’s the mastermind, and ran off like that in order to cover her trails.

Makoto? He didn’t even know anymore. The Ultimate Lucky Student sunk into a corner somewhere and just sighed, still dwelling on everything and anything that led to this point in time. He was, fittingly, sitting outside of the kitchen hallway, still thinking to himself... and still feelings more than a bit betrayed given the circumstances.

It was morning, currently, so Makoto by all rights should be enjoying breakfast. But... he just couldn’t at the same time. He didn’t even know why, given he’s seen for himself Kyoko being revealed as the assaulter... and yet, he felt a linger of doubt in all of that. Like something was well and truly off about the circumstances.

He thought he knew Kyoko. But at the same time, he wondered if there wasn’t other forces lurking about.

Makoto nonetheless sighed, shaking his head. Apparently, he was oblivious to Mondo walking passed the doorway and seeing the diminutive brunette sitting in the corner. Upon closer inspection, Mondo had a bowl of cereal with milk in it, as the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader grimaced and walked up to Makoto.

“Hey, uhhh...” Mondo began, slowly. “Junko brought ya cereal. Figured ya eat fuckin’ something before breakfast ends and all, goin’ by her logic.”

Makoto said nothing. He simply sighed.

Mondo sputtered indignantly. “W-Well, aren’t ya gonna accept it or not – "

“No! No. Thanks, Mondo.” Makoto stretched his arms out, cautiously receiving Mondo’s bowl of cereal. “I’ve just been... bothered, by Kyoko. We haven’t seen hide nor hair of her this morning, and her dorm is soundproof, so...”

Mondo sighed. “Yeah, ya gotta wonder. But frankly, I don’t have the slightest fuckin’ pity for her.”

“H-Huh?” Makoto looked surprised, but became a bit more sheepish as he realized why Mondo sounded so unforgiving. “...you don’t have to explain.
  get the idea.”

“Mmf, yeah. Yer smarter than that.” Mondo said with a wry smile, before patting Makoto on the back. “Eat up. Join with us whenever ya want, kid.”

And just like that, Mondo left, leaving only Makoto with a bowl of cereal. Makoto took the spoon that was inserted into the mix of milk and grains, and took up a whole spoonful of the cereal.

“Huh, Mukuro gave this, huh?” Makoto said with a shrug. “Well, can’t be that bad...”

And with that, Makoto began eating the cereal.

...at first, nothing occurred. Makoto felt a bit of sweat bead his brow for a
bit, but it was hardly anything. But as he slowly ate through the entire bowl of cereal, Makoto felt his pants tighten. He felt more knotty in his stomach
and aroused. His general sounds while eating eventually devolved into soft
moans as he slurped at the milk, something inexplicable by itself causing
the arousal to churn within his stomach. And before he could have any way
to talk about it –

*bing-bong-ding-doooooooooooong*

“Attention, Makoto Naegi! Please report to the third floor and come find me! I want you to have a word with your headmaster! Puhuhuhuhuhu!”

*ding-dong-bing-boooooooooooong*

As Makoto finaly finished his cereal in sync with the announcement, Makoto awkwardly stood up, feeling his pants tighten underneath an uncomfortable erection. And before long, Leon bursted out of the kitchen with a confused look on his face.

“Makoto, the hell is that bear planning?! Do you want me to – “ A pause, then Leon blushed upon seeing Makoto state of arousal. “E-Er, are you oka
– “
“Y-Yeah, I’m fine! Fine. No worries...” Makoto awkwardly laughed as he
stood up. “E-Excuse me, I should... um, probably get this over with...”

Unknowing of why Makoto felt his stomach tighten and his senses on fire, Leon was left in the dust.

“M-Makoto, wai – " Too late, Makoto had already left. Leon simply crossed his arms, shook his head, and sighed.

“Jeez.” He said in a hushed tone. “The hell is with him?”

No matter how much she cried and begged, she wouldn’t listen.

No matter how much she pleaded and screamed, she wouldn’t hear of it.

No matter what she did or how she did it, it wasn’t enough.

As Kyoko was dragged by a leash by Junko, all she could do was sob and whimper hideously. Junko grabbed her arms and dragged her off to what looks like a set of holding stocks. Despite her desperate attempts to break free, Kyoko was eventually cuffed to the wooden stocks and forced to kneel over, crying weakly as tears rolled down her cheeks in apparent misery.

“P-Please, let go.” She spoke desperately. “I-I’m begging you, I c-can’t do this anymore.”

Again, her pleas went unheard. She was naked, having been stripped to the flesh by her who refuses to let go. She was bound by wooden stocks as she was forced to kneel with her buttocks hoisted in the air, and, as she was forced to look forward, all Kyoko saw was a set of curtains covering... something. Junko, who was still dressed in her school uniform, simply grabbed a pulley and brought the curtains up.

“Today, Failure-chan...” Junko replied with a cold, callous smirk. “We’re going to be trying something a bit different.”

The curtain came up and up came what appeared to be a window. A window to what was clearly, Kyoko fathomed, the entrance to the rec room on the third floor. And open wall gave way to a clear visage of the inside of the room through a glass panel, and Kyoko watched helplessly as she couldn’t even begin to figure what Junko was planning.

Her lip trembled. “W-What are you p-planning?”

Junko simply purred. “You’ll see.~”

What was even the point of all of this? Why? And how? Kyoko couldn’t even begin to fathom what was happening at this point that was the end goal of her abject suffering by now... Junko won. Why rub it in? Why make it so apparent and continue to grind her to dirt until nothing was there?

It soon became apparent, why, when Makoto walked in. And tears were apparent and written all over his face, a face afraid of what was to come next if he didn’t do something, all as he sat down on a nearby couch.

Kyoko’s eyes widened in dawning comprehension. “M-Mako... t-to – “

In that moment, Kyoko felt two slimy, cold fingers slide into her anus.

She blinked once, twice, thrice, and then screamed. It wasn’t anything loud, but it soon developed into an uncomfortable and blanketed sets of crying and sobs as she squirmed against the uncomfortable feeling of having her anus stretched around. And from behind, her fingers slithering and snaking around while stretching her inner walls to open for something far bigger.

“Go on, take a long, good look you little faggot slut.” Junko said with a devilish smile. “Makoto’s gonna watch your first time, you know.~”

Indeed, Makoto was crying, but it was clear it wasn’t at Kyoko – it was clear to Kyoko, then, it was out of guilt and humiliation for what was to happen next. He pulled down his pants to reveal and average-sized, throbbing erection, to which Makoto’s hands gripped onto the base as he began deftly and slowly stroke it, a pleased whimper coming out of his mouth during that moment.

Kyoko’s eyes widened to a dawning comprehension, tears of horror streaming down her face. “NO! NO! PLEASE NO, NOT THA – "

Kyoko felt a third finger slide into her anus as she began prodding and stretching, leaving the Ultimate Detective to weakly sob and she loudly bellowed across the room. Kyoko tried looking away, but Junko’s free hand redirected her head while coving her mouth, her eyes wide as she saw every inch of Makoto seeming to masturbate to this. What could’ve Makoto been motivated to do this?! What could have?! This didn’t make sense, what on Earth –

“Now you see that I’m protecting you?” Junko whispered huskily. “I’m only protecting you from a worse fate.”

...that was a lie. It had to be. Kyoko felt her facial features scrunch up in agony as she screamed into Junko’s hands, tears rolling down her cheeks as the least she can do was shake her head in denial. It had to be a lie! It had to be! Why would Makoto do this, he’d never do this, he’d never –

All this time, and you were this in denial?

A familiar voice felt like a steel rake clawing it’s way down Kyoko’s back as she continued to sob. Junko’s hands left Kyoko’s open and lubricated anus, soaked in the fluids of the translucent substance and all while her asshole brushed up against something rigid –

“Bend over.”

Kyoko barely had enough time to scream after the hand came off. And after she felt Junko’s strap-on run into her anus.

She felt pain before. Being raped was bad enough... but it didn’t even compare. Kyoko did what any reasonable person would do and screeched as she felt an unlubricated strap-on phallus enter her lubricated hole and began stretching to accommodate her size, tears strolling down her cheeks as she saw Makoto masturbating to her... feelings of miser and hideous self-loathing came crumbling down on her, as the final defense mechanism, the final pillar, came crashing down.

“STOP! STOP! STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP! PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU, STOP!” Kyoko screamed as she bawled. “I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! PLEASE, STOP IT! STOP IT! I DON’T WANT THIS! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!”

As Kyoko felt pain subside and all that was left be hollow misery, Junko crooked Kyoko’s head as she looked at her own pained, purple eyes. “Good girls listen to their betters and do as their told. So shut up and take it.”

Junko continued to thrust as finally, a free hand began toying and playing around with Kyoko’s slit, the abuser happy to exploit the sounds of pain and pleasure she made when Junko’s slid her fingers inside of her and began pumping, all her ass continued to get fucked by Junko’s phallus. Makoto, on the other side of the room and oblivious to the sound from the other side, continued to moan mutedly as he continued to stroke and stroke, until at
long last, it happened.

Makoto’s cum came out like a ribbon, staining itself on the carpet as he whimpered. Junko, syncing perfectly with Makoto, pressed a button and let ribbons of cum coat her anal walls with the sticky substance, all while Kyoko screams and sobs gently, feelings of misery as the Ultimate Detective continued to hiccup weakly.

“S-Stop... stop...” Kyoko droned on, sobbing as she continued to reach her climax with Junko’s thrusting. “S-Stop... stop... stop... s-stop... stop... s-stop...”

Makoto, as apparent from the other window pane, looked guilty. He pulled up his pants, and without even glancing over at Kyoko, he left.

Kyoko had no words. The least she could do was sob weakly, feelings of humiliation hitched in her breath, before a final push triggered a weak moan as her legs convulsed, finally reaching a total orgasm altogether. Kyoko’s legs finally gave in, her own sobs being muted as Junko pulled out of her messy asshole with a single plop.

“I think we’re done here for now.” Junko said as she wiped herself off, before finally undoing the stocks, letting Kyoko crumple into a human mess while letting her leash attach to the stocks’ padlock. “See you in a bit, dearest.”

As Junko blew a kiss, she exited the way she and Kyoko came in, through the door. Leaving only a broken teenager with a leash still hooked to the stocks.

“S-Stop... stop... s-s-stop...” Her voice shuddered as wide eyes were apparent on her face, bloodshot and drenched in tears, a face of utter fear, horror, sadness, love, hatred, humanity enveloping, all as the voices came off across sanguinely, invitingly, all while drowning into an abyssal sea of unconsciousness, horror and fear having been made apparent over her face
for all to see.

And then, silence.

.........

......

...

See what I mean?

...

You really should kill yourself.
...

...

...I know.

...

...

......

.........

As Makoto finally walked out of the room with a face of utter shame apparent on his face, he finally collapsed and began sobbing. That was fucking awful! As he felt hiccups and embarrassment overcome his senses, he was glad nobody was around to watch, but at what cost?

Monokuma, who was graciously standing outside of the rec room, tilted his head. “Aww, why the long face? Ya knew exactly what you were getting into when I told you that you were free to masturbate in the rec room... and as long as you do that, Kyoko wouldn’t have to die. Oh, the lengths you would go for a sex offender who raped poor Junko...”

“Shut it! This is your fault!” Makoto stood up, pointing his finger accusatorily at Monokuma. “You put something in that cereal! And you did something! So help me, I will find the truth about what happened!”

Monokuma simply snorted indignantly. “Pffft, yeah, whatever. Anyways, good luck! Best not tell anyone about your little fapping session, ya hear?! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!”

And just like that, Monokuma vanished. Makoto simply stood up, but there was no small hint of resolve on his face... he sighed, simply going back a room to see the rec room.

Monokuma’s deal was quite simple. “I won’t tell a soul if you masturbate in the rec room... but if you don’t, then I can’t promise your friend’s safety.” Given the cameras were there regardless and Makoto had the sense of being watched, it felt as though nothing was truly apparent for all to see as the truth, other than whatever debauched sensationalism the Masterminded wanted.

He walked in. And true to Monokuma’s word, there was no traces of his own semen...

...but likewise, when he was told to sit down... as he looked to the wall to
the right, it was a mirror that reflected Makoto during his time there. There
was no catch, at least it felt like there was no catch.

So why did he feel like he was still watched?

Makoto sniffled, simply gripping his fist. He had a feeling this was part of a larger ploy. He knew it to be. And if he didn’t figure out soon something else altogether, he knew then that he would be losing something greater than that, altogether. And in that moment, Makoto stood up, resolve apparent on his face.

“I... I need to find somebody I can trust.” Makoto began, slowly. “I need to figure out the truth.”

And with that, he walked off... knowing full well that there was something greater at stake here.

He didn’t know full well of the consequences of his actions if he failed.

Chapter Text

“So... is there any reason you brought me into this?”

Leon didn’t ask that hoping to sound conceited or annoyed. It was really the opposite: when Makoto Naegi came to him of all people to discuss something while Makoto was on the verge of complete and utter tears, Leon couldn’t help but be at least a smidgen concerned. He simply stared over to Makoto hastily bringing Leon to the dormitory in hopes of going near Kyoko’s room.

Of course, when Leon realized that he was going somewhere that involved her, Leon made a face resembling that of a face someone made when eating pickled lemons. He growled in disgust; what did she do to her? Nevermind the stunt she pulled with Junko the other day, Kyoko had the nerve to act as though she was the victim, running off crying like that... it really sickened how unable she was to confront what she did to her...

...that’s what Junko confirmed to the students, anyways. Which had to be
the truth... right?

Leon had no idea what to say. And that arguably made him feel worse.

“Y-Yeah, there is.” Makoto nodded gently, confirming Leon’s suspicions. “I, uh... I need your help, Leon. If you’d be able to help out, I need you to, um...”

...immediately, after glancing over to Kyoko’s doorway... Makoto went over to the sauna. And he immediately opened the entrance to the locker room by imparting the curtain.

“...look. I’ll tell you everything you need to know, but... I need you to unscrew the entrance to the ventilation system in the dormitory and peer into her room.” Makoto said, motioning Leon in. “Something’s not right, Leon.”

...Leon simply stared down Makoto, and gawked. “Wait, what?”

That wasn’t an answer Leon had been expecting, certainly. But as Makoto invited Leon into the sauna, and ventured into the locker room together. And honestly, on inspection? The lack of a camera made it apparent why Makoto chose this, and Leon – for one – was surprised himself he didn’t seem to notice. Leon whistled as Makoto motioned over to sit on a bench.

“Holy shit... how didn’t we notice this before?!” Leon said, whistling. “There’s no camera here!”

“Yeah. That’s why I came here.” Makoto gave an awkward smile, before patting on the space next to where he was sitting. “You, um... wanna sit next to me?”

Leon, for one, scratched the back of his head awkwardly, before opting to lean on a wall. “Nah, man, I’m good. Why don’tcha tell me from here?”

The Ultimate Lucky Student immediately frowned, looking equal parts distraught and serious. “...alright, I think I should explain. I...”

Makoto took a deep breath, then spoke. “The reason why I want you to crawl through the vents is because... is because I think that Junko is lying. Kyoko’s the one in danger, I think.”

That caught Leon off guard. Immediately, looking shocked and a little disgusted, he sputter. “W-Wait, how can you even suggest that, goddamnit?! Isn’t Kyoko the one who forced herself on – “

“That’s the thing! There’s been several events over the last couple of days that... made me think...” Makoto said, squirming about. “For starters, how my hands got injured within the first few days, then Kyoko gradually acting more and more erratic and even perturbed, and even more than that, the fact that she had a complete freak-out when everyone accused her... if you look at her behavior at the very start of it all, Kyoko was perfectly calm, Leon. She wasn’t the type to emote easily.”

Leon didn’t look too convinced. “Yeah, I guess, but maybe it’s all an act on her part?”

“Is it really, though? What does that explain my fingers being broken completely and then apparently healing soon after? Or...” Makoto flushed. “Me being made by Monokuma to, uh... m-masturbate in the rec room.”

As Makoto turned beet red, Leon gawked. “W-What the... fuck...?”

“Y-Yeah. Monokuma told me, basically by blackmailing me with Kyoko’s safety, that I had to masturbate at a certain angle... something isn’t right, Leon.” Makoto said, frowning, after recovering from his moment of embarrassment. “That’s why it’s so important that you go in and try to investigate this for me. The sooner you do this, the more we can figure out everything.”

Leon bit his lip, thinking to himself, before speaking. “...okay, but why me? Why did you pick me to do this?”

Makoto thought for a long time about the implications. But he took in a deep breath and answered.

“Because...” Makoto began. “It’s because I trust you enough to pull this off. Trust you enough to put your feelings to the side to do a favor for a friend... and always seek out the truth. I trust my assessment is correct, yes?”

Leon stood silent for a bit longer, but it wasn’t long before his shoulders – tensed throughout the series of revelations Makoto gave to Leon – finally lowered a bit, and Leon sighed.

“I’ll... I’ll see what I can do.” Leon nodded, causing Makoto to immediately brighten up.

“Oh! Thanks so much, Leon!” Makoto grinned, immediately sitting up. “Do it tonight if you must, but preferably throughout the entire night as well; if we figure this out, that’s a step closer to finding the truth.”

Leon still didn’t look completely convinced, but after what Makoto told him, he couldn’t ignore this any longer. Leon stood up, puffed his chest, and simply gave a confident nod.

“Alright, you can count on me!” Leon said, cheerfully. “Just gimme some time to find that toolkit in my room, got it?”

“Yeah, of course.” Makoto nodded, motioning over to the entrance of the sauna. “Well then – should we head back, for now?”

Leon paused, before nodding. “...yeah. That sounds like a plan. After you, Makoto.”

The Ultimate Baseball Star couldn’t find a whole lot of humor in this, but it wasn’t long before he directly followed Makoto to the outside. With a heart now full of doubt, Leon proved ready to plan fir the next series of events... no matter where or what it brought him to.

Mukuro Ikusaba was not in a good mood.

Ever since the rest of the students fell asleep mere hours before, she was given the chance to recline a bit and simply scan the cameras for any... activity while Junko goes off to have her, quote-unquote, “fun.” This hardly was the first time she openly questioned the ethics of what she was involving herself in, but it certainly didn’t do what little remained of her conscience any real good.

Especially given she can hear screaming and dragging just a few rooms
down.

That wasn’t important though; Leon seemed to have broken into the ventilation system by the evening, and for whatever reason... he went back. Almost as if he knew there’d be no perks to murdering someone during the Killing Game’s intermission. Regardless, Mukuro grabbed a nearby cup of coffee, sipped, and then turned to the far side of the hallway what was going on.

Kyoko was naked, handcuffed, and had a wide variety of bruises dotting her body and face, likely from what Mukuro could imagine was pummeling. Actually, calling her completely naked was a disservice; scraps of her clothing still remained on, but it was fully torn to pieces in exposing her breast, stomach, groin, back and posterior – hardly anything that would made the wild look of fear in Kyoko’s eyes any more wild than it already was, especially with her being dragged at a collar’s length to God-knows-
where Junko wants her to be.

“PLEASE! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!” Kyoko screamed between intermissions of wild sobbing, tears lining her bruised face. “PLEASE, STO – "

Junko, in what was likely an unprecedented display of brutality, simply stomped her own shoes over Kyoko’s face, stomped once more, then again... Kyoko sputtered blood as she bawled incoherently, tears streaming down her face as a look of fear complemented the angry, purple bruise on her upper left cheek, nearly dangerously close to inflicting actual eye injury.

“Can you please shut the fuck up, you little bitch?” Junko, for extra measure, wrapped the length of the leash around Kyoko’s neck and pulled, hoping to further asphyxiate her while dragging her onwards. “Good little girls do as their told, so bend over.”

...that was, in all likelihood, the last possible straw. Mukuro silently bit her teeth as Kyoko’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, tears on freefall as she blubbered, Junko dragging her onwards.

“P-Please, no! NO!” Kyoko said between sobs. “D-Don’t say that – please – PLEASE DON – “

In that moment, Junko stuck her foot in Kyoko’s mouth.

“Excuse me.” Junko grinned evilly. “I say whatever I damn well please.”

...Mukuro had enough. Immediately storming over to the general direction of Junko, she stopped in between movement as Junko gave an honest-to- god “do-you-really-want-to-continue-moving” glare, freezing out any sort of righteous fury Mukuro would’ve had mere moments ago.

No words needed to be said, as Mukuro and Junko knew each other by now. Gritting her teeth in disgust, Mukuro stormed back to her post, her own fury slowly awakening to Kyoko’s garbled screams and sobs.

Mukuro went back, sat down, buried her head in her hands, and screamed.

It was the least she’d be entitled to do, anyways. This was absolutely abhorrent! Kyoko was likely in a state that’s completely incoherent with fear, likely suicidal, and Junko keeps pushing! And the aching in her heart didn’t wane either, especially with her growing anger and frustration as Kyoko’s screams becoming more and more muted, until they were finally silenced with gentle, mute closing of a door.

Mukuro did not cry once in her anger. She doesn’t even know if she’s capable of crying anymore, especially with all the blood on her hands. But as it stands, as it moves out to incomprehensible cruelty that she’s an accomplice towards...

...this was the lowest one can go.

And Mukuro had to think that to maintain her composure.

.........

......

...

...God. You’re just a miserable piece of work, you know that?

S-Stop it...

You haven’t done anything right over the last couple of days! Absolutely nada! Zilch! Zip! All YOU could do was get fucked up like the slutty little bitch that you are! Nothing more than a mother pig weening her offspring!

Shut up! SHUT UP!

Woof, that’s the first time you ever yelled like that, huh sugar-cakes?!~ Why, maybe if you weren’t such a useless fucking whore, maybe none of this would’ve ever happened! You didn’t touch the button, and you stayed with the program! You just couldn’t ignore that without blaming yourself, haven’t y –

I SAID SHUT UP!

...

WHO ARE YOU?! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! WHY AM I HERE, CONSTANTLY BEING TORMENTED BY YOU?! ANSWER ME, GODDAMNIT!

...

I SAID ANSWER ME!

...I’m not giving answers to those who already know the truth.

No I don’t! I don’t know what’s the fucking ‘truth’ to begin with!

...then why do you call yourself a detective? And not just any detective, the Ultimate Detective?!

...

...you just can’t admit it. And the only way to move forward is through yourself... isn’t that right?

...

...heehee! Cutie l’il Kyoko can’t ever confront the truth by herself

...shut it.

Tell me, then, if you think you know better.

Who am I?

...

...

...

......

.........

Kyoko felt like she was drowning in an ocean of suffering.

She weakly whimpered and shuddered a meandering sob as Junko leaned forward, groping and pawing at her breasts while her fingers continue to piston inside of her. Every single push was met with a pleasured gasp and whimper – and she didn’t want it. She didn’t want any of this. It was humiliating, it was wrong, it was all wrong!

And she couldn’t do a fucking thing about it. Trailing kisses up her stomach, her thighs, sour blossoms of pain and misery from a bitter root marking its way up her tender flesh, nails digging deep into her belly and leaving angry red skids, hickeys from suckling at the skin nesting in her left
and right neck and collarbone... and here she was, cuffed in a spread eagle, just like the time she (no) was (STOP) branded (NOSTOPITSTOPITSTOPIT - )

...a short, hyperventilating scream erupted out of her throat as she felt a phallus gently brush up against her entrance... and slide in. Just as it was.

And just as it seemingly always will be. An emotionally tormented scream erupted from her mouth, desperate sobs while snot and drool trickled down her face alongside the tears, her own pelvis bone feeling like it’d be shattered from the thrusting of a long-abused area... and her.

Her-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named. Anti-Love. Anti-Tenderness. Her sweet words begetting a sourness hand in hand as she continued to thrust, to make her feel good, but at what cost? What is the price Kyoko has to pay for this? Everything was a haze now, swept in a desperate, final attempt to drown things out and protect what little remained of her own self-worth. Shield it. The final, truly final defense mechanism.

Just... shut down. That’s all she could do. Everything was a blur, even the thrust and her own screams being deafened under the deluge of white, sticky lava spilling into her, she giving a laughing cackle, before a smack of her own abused rump signaled another desperate sob from the victim. But it was all tuned own.

Because that’s all she could do.

And that’s all she wants to d –

“...hey, Failure-chan. Let’s play a game.”

Kyoko was a mess. Tears, snot and drool coated her face with the dribble of blood and bruises from her mouth and cheeks. Her entire body was marked in scratches, bruises and other sort of primal brands of ownership, such as it was she refused to even acknowledge them for her already-tenuous grip on sanity and well-being. She hiccupped and croaked, for such was her voice so raw after screaming as white noise and in genuine pain. Blood was trickling from the brand – KYOKO IS A USELESS FAILURE – from Junko’s own clawing, and a small pool of Junko’s semen from her strap-on pooled around her entrance. And Kyoko... said nothing.

She said nothing.

“Failure-chan?” Junko smiled, happily uncuffing her left arm to the bedpost. She then waved, putting it on a counter so close yet so far. “You’re free to go.”

A lie. Anti-love. Anti-tenderness. This is a trick of her, making sure I –

...it wasn’t that way. Junko was leaving. The key was in reach. A chance to escape, make it so that she can finally do something, anything, to stop the pulsating feeling of horror building up inside of her. But Junko motioned towards the door... and blew a kiss.

“If you get the key and free your restraints...” Junko said with a coy grin. “You’re free to go. But I’ll be back to check on you in thirty minutes.”

And Junko left.

Escape.

Escape.

Escape.

Kyoko, in a desperate, last attempt to finally grab onto something (escape), clawed and pawed at the key (escape), feelings of misery and hatred (escape) as her hand proved all but too short to reach it (escape), the grip of escape (escape) within grasp, a sweet and tender mercy (escape) of the mortal flesh that had long (escape) proven within (escape) grasp... was it?

Was it (escape) not possible? (escape)

Kyoko pawed, still (escape) in reach, desperate to grab (escape) the key to free (escape) herself of this hell (ESCAPE), this hell that (ESCAPE) was made to be (ESCAPE) possible, a chance (ESCAPE), a light (ESCAPE), a dark (ESCAPE), a Hell (ESCAPE), A PRISON (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE
(ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE), IMPOSSIBLE (ESCAPE)

IT’S IMPOSSIBLE

ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE
ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE
ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE E SCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE
ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE
ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE
ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE
ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE
ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE
ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE ESCAPE

...

...

...

...

...

...

...
...and you realized it, at long last.

The void. A childish giggle. The sound of playing, childish youth, innocence, wonder – all of it, lost. Ruined. Everything was ruined.

And she was afraid to answer.

Realize what?

Realize the truth. Of who I am.

The shadow of her mind twisted, turned, and spattered into the void, and at long last...

...a Queen.

Stood with a crown.

BECAUSE I’M ANYTHING YOU WANT ME TO BE.

It was her. Anti-love. (no) Anti-tenderness. (stop) Giving her hug of love (it hurts), spindly, spider-like fingers (it really hurts) from a beastial apparition’s (it hurts) fingers wrapped around (IT HURTS) HER NECK (NO) AND (STOP) BEGAN (STOP IT) GORGING

and all this time

STOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOP ITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITST OPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPIT STOPITSTOPIT

fuck or be fucked

I CAN’T DO ANYTHING ON MY OWN

...you were lying.

AOOOOOAO (pain) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (misery) AAAAAAAOAOO (suffering) OOOOOOOOOOOOO (failure-chan) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (love) OOOOOOOO (anti-love)
OOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAA (family) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (pain) AAAAAAOOOOOOOO (rape) OOOOOOOOOOO (fuck) OOOOOOOOOOOOOO (fuck me) OAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (it hurts) AAAAAAAAAAOOOOOO (I am very h a p p y ) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (grandfather) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (grandmother) AAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOO (pregnant) OOOOOOOOO (joy) OOOOOOOOO (creation) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (destruction) AAAAAAAAA (father) OOOOOOOOO (mother) AOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (brother) OOOOOOOOOOOOOO
(sister) OOOOOOOOOOO (primal) AAAAAAAAAA (logic) OOOOOOOOOO (instinct) AOAOAOAOAOAO (fear) AOAOAAAAAAAAAA (courage) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (her)
AAAAAAAOOOOO (help) OOOOOOOOO (hell) AAAAAAAAAA (heaven) OOOAOOOOOA (purgatory) OAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (nightmare) AAAAAAAAAAAAAA (dream) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (memory) AAAAAAAAA (rich) AAAAAAAOOOOO (poor) OOOAAAAAAAAAAA (sickness) OAAAAAAAOOOOO (sickness) OOAAAAAAAAAAOO (health) OOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOO (jubilee) OOOOOOOAAAAOAAA (melancholy) AAAAAAAAAAAOO (sanguine) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOO (choleric)
AAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOAAA (phlegmatic) AAAAOOOOOOOOOOAAAOO (I want to die) OOOOOOOOAAAAAAOOOOO (raucous) OOAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOO (quiet)
OOOAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOO (frustration) OOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOO (pleasure) OAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOO (temperance) OOOOAAAAAAA (temperance) AAAAAOOOOOOOOOO (chastity) AAAAAAAAAOAAAAAA (anti-tenderness) AAAAAAOOOOOOOOO (tenderness) OAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOAA (silence) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (noise) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (requiem)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (forgotten) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (remembered) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (judgement) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (furor)AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAA (die) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
A (die) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (die) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (die) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (die)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (die)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
(die) AAAAAAAAAAAAA (die) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (die)
AAAAAAAAAAA (die) AAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOO (die) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (die)
OOOOOOOOOOOOO (die) OOOOOOOO (die) OOOOOOOO (die) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (die) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (die) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (die) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (i)
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (want) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (to) OOOOOOOOOOOOO (DIE) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (I) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (WANT) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (TO) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (DIE)
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (DIE) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (DIE) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (DIE) OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

die

...

......

.........

Anyone who observed the holding cell Kyoko was held in would hear screaming.

Actually, screaming is too much of a strong word – it wasn’t controlled. It wasn’t ‘screaming’, because that implies it wasn’t howling. Animalistic, pained screeches echoed through the hallways, pain and misery striking up a storm amid sobs and a woman lost.

For that’s what it was. She lost.

Kyoko Kirigiri had lost.

And she had long lost consciousness. Her voice... gone. And amid tears, eyes wide open, and a face of pain, a figure of warm colors came up to her...

...and spoke.

“I’m here.”