Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A boy with long, dark hair was quietly sitting on his bed. His back was leaning against the wall behind him and one of his legs dangled off the side of the bed. His curtains were almost fully drawn, blocking most of the daylight out. His room was enfolded in darkness.

From just outside his window, he could hear voices of students who were on their way to class. His sharp ears were able to pick up every word of their conversations, and he passively listened to them, unimpressed by their meaningless banter and inside jokes.

They were dull.

Izuru Kamukura could think of no good reason to go to class, and so he had chosen to remain in his room, doing the same thing he had done over and over again for months.

He woke up and waited for the day to pass.

It was no more dull than attending class.

A knock sounded on his door.

“Izuru? It’s Miss Yukizome. Are you in there?”

Izuru didn’t answer. He remained still on his bed, waiting for his homeroom teacher to give up and leave.

“Are you dressed?” Chisa Yukizome asked strangely cheerful, “Answer me if you aren’t. I wouldn’t want to walk in on my new student!”

Izuru blinked when he realized that his new teacher had already decided to enter his room, whether or not he gave her an answer. He still kept quiet and was not surprised when he began hearing tinkering sounds from his locked door. A few moments later his door opened. His eyes didn’t need any time to adjust to the light from the hallway, and he could clearly make out the form of his new teacher strolling into his room.

Chisa Yukizome did need a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the dark, and when she spotted Izuru, she smiled widely at him.

“Good morning, Izuru! What are you still doing here? You’re missing your first day of school!” She glanced around his room with a frown on her face. “Why is it so dark in here?”

She walked towards his window and pulled back the curtains. His window revealed a cloudless blue sky, and his teacher even took the liberty of opening up his window, so that he felt a light breeze.

“That’s better,” Yukizome said, peeking her head just outside the window for a moment and then looking back at him with the same unwavering smile on her face.

“This is forced entry,” Izuru said.

“I just opened up your window.”

“You broke the lock on my door.”

“Oh, that. I’ll fix it in a minute.”

Izuru remained quiet, because he saw no point in arguing with his teacher when she was feigning ignorance on purpose. He didn’t need to look at her to know that she was studying him, wondering what she would have to say to get him to come to class.

“So, what are you doing here exactly?” Yukizome asked him curiously.

From the corners of his eyes, he could see that she was looking around his room, maybe trying to follow his gaze to see what he was looking at.

“I guess I’ll let it slide this once, as you’re new here,” Yukizome resumed, after a pregnant pause, “I didn’t mean to break your lock, but I was worried by your absence in class. I wanted to make sure you were fine.”

“I am.”

“I’m glad to see I was worrying over nothing! So, come with me to class, Izuru. I guess it is my fault for not sending someone over to come get you this morning. It must be very confusing to find your way around here on your own.”

Izuru knew Yukizome was trying to manipulate him into coming with her gently by pretending she hadn’t realized he was skipping class on purpose.

Izuru looked at his teacher, really taking her in for the first time. Her long, red hair was pulled back into a pony tail, and he made note of the fact that she was wearing a white apron over a blue dress. By far, her most distinctive feature seemed to be her persistent smile.

“Class attendance isn’t mandatory.”

“I see. You are going to get along just fine with your classmates,” Yukizome said, “They said exactly the same when I first started teaching them. It’s a common mistake.”

“It’s not a mistake,” Izuru said, “Class attendance isn’t necessary for the Main Course students, according to the official school rules.”

“You read the official school rules? Such an eager student!” Yukizome said, clasping her hands together with a level of enthusiasm that Izuru would need a few seconds for to get used to. Surprisingly fast, she pulled out a small book from under her apron. “But I am afraid I have to tell you that we of Class 77-B have slightly different rules, and all 244 of them are written down in this cute school guide we all designed together! The first rule: homeroom is absolutely mandatory.”

Izuru stared at the obnoxious pink rabbit on the book’s cover, moments before Yukizome opened up the rulebook and casually flipped through the pages to give Izuru an idea of what its contents looked like. His photographic memory picked up on a lot of rules that seemed oddly specific.

“This copy is for you! I’ll just leave it for you here. You can have a look at it later.”

Izuru’s eyes cautiously followed her as she put the book down on his nightstand. He was not surprised when she suddenly turned towards him with a glint in her eye. Before she actually reached him, he had thought of at least more than a hundred different ways to avoid his advancing teacher, some of them ending violently for her.

He knew better, of course. Violence was out of the question.

He didn’t move a muscle, but Yukizome made no move to grab him. She halted just in front of his bed, put her hands on her waist, leaned forwards for a bit and smiled.

“Izuru, you are truly a rotten orange!”

He stared.

“You’re coming with me!”

Yukizome briskly turned around, without touching him, as if she was completely sure that he would follow him on his own. As if being called a rotten orange was supposed to motivate him to follow her. Nevertheless, he got up from his bed and when he entered the hallway, she was to his left, fixing his doorknob with a screwdriver, still with her unwavering smile in place.

He followed her to the classroom. It didn’t matter if he spent his day in a classroom or in his dorm. Time passed all the same.

“Everyone, please welcome your—“

Chisa opened the doors to her classroom with enthusiasm, but that feeling was soon replaced by something else. She should’ve known better than to think her students would behave while they were all still speculating about their newest classmate.

It didn’t take a lot for this class to fall into chaos, and she had been away for a whole fifteen minutes.

Mikan was on the ground, yelling apologies while at least half of Gundham’s twelve Zodiac Generals were attacking her. She was wrapped tightly in Gundham’s long scarf, and as she was struggling to get free, she kept kicking against Fuyuhiko’s desk. Gundham was turning an unhealthy shade of blue while Sonia did her best to pry his scarf away from his neck. Peko was standing over Mikan, while Mahiru seemed to be the only one to actually try and help disentangle the Ultimate Nurse. Peko held out her sword threateningly towards Teruteru, who had tried to sneak his way over to their side of the classroom. He insisted he only wanted to help Mikan.

Hiyoko was looking especially pleased as her eyes roamed the classroom, and Chisa was pretty sure she was the one responsible for the chaos. She usually was.

The chaos could’ve been even worse if Akane and Nekomaru had been present, but they seemed to have left the classroom in her absence.

“Just a moment, Izuru,” Chisa said with an apologetic smile towards her newest student.

It took her a couple minutes to calm the class down. Gundham wasn’t pleased with the way she had saved his life and cradled his shortened scarf as if it was an injured animal. He looked paler than usual and stared at her accusingly. She heard him mutter something about an Atropos under his breath, but she had other things on her mind.

Just when she thought she had everything under control again, Nekomaru and Akane returned. As they burst through the door, Nekomaru nearly knocked the door off its hinges. If Izuru hadn’t stepped away from the door just a few seconds in advance, he could’ve been seriously injured.

Only after loudly arguing about who had won their spontaneous race, did Nekomaru and Akane realize that their teacher had already returned to the classroom. They returned to their respective seats without her having to say anything, both laughing nervously under her threatening stare.

“Now that I finally have your attention, please welcome your new classmate!”

Chisa looked back, gesturing Izuru to come forward.

“Izuru Kamukura.”

His introduction was short and to the point. Before Chisa could stop him, he had already moved towards the empty seat in the back by the window.

“Izuru is the Ultimate Hope,” Chisa added, her smile never wavering.

“What does that mean?” Akane asked, confused.

“Hope? This must be a sign that Nagito’s going to return any day now. No way that his luck will allow him to miss out on this.” Kazuichi's face turned ashen. “I’m going to die for sure this time.”

“Please,” Fuyuhiko hissed, “You know how unpredictable that creep is. I wouldn’t be surprised if he suddenly showed up out of the blue because you mentioned his name.”

“Nagito, Nagito, Nagito!” Hiyoko said in rapid succession, while looking smugly at a speechless Fuyuhiko, “See, nothing happened! I didn’t know you were superstitious, Baby Yakuza!”

Fuyuhiko eyed the doorway suspiciously for a couple of seconds, before he sent a fuming look towards the blonde girl.

“Don’t call me that, you little shit!”

Ibuki turned in her seat, smiling at Izuru, “Your hair is even longer than Ibuki’s! Ibuki likes it! Pleased to meet you, Izuru!”

“You can’t seriously like the overgrown seaweed that grows out of his head?” Hiyoko said.

“Hiyoko!” Sonia said, looking at the other girl with a frown, “Mind your manners.”

Gundham still hadn’t lost the slightly blue hinge on his face, but he was glancing towards the back of the room with a suspicious expression, tugging the twelve Zodiac Generals into his shortened scarf with tenderness, as if protecting them.

Chisa had intended for everything to down go a bit differently. It would’ve helped if Izuru had actually shown up for the first half of the class. She looked around the class, noting that some students rushed to introduce themselves to their newest classmate, while others waited until things had calmed down for a bit.

Chisa felt a sense of unease.

From the moment she had entered his room, to this moment where he was surrounded by his classmates who were trying their best to give him a warm welcome, she had not seen him react to anything at all. His face remained disinterested.

There had been plenty of things that most people would’ve reacted to. Chisa breaking into his dorm, calling him a rotten orange, the chaos of the classroom, the arguments of his classmates, the comment Hiyoko had made about his hair. Most boys his age would’ve at least had a reaction to Mikan’s antics. They may have been startled by the combined force of Akane and Nekomaru racing against each other. But Izuru…

Chisa caught a glimpse of his face.

Izuru just looked bored.

“Chiaki to Earth?”

Dazed and slightly confused, Chiaki raised her head to see where the voice had come from. In front of her desk stood Sonia, looking conflicted. She seemed to be glad that she had finally caught Chiaki’s attention. Sonia had never resorted to taking away her Game Girl Advance as she was playing it, but Chiaki could tell that this was one of the moments she’d almost been about to.

“…Eh?”

Sonia looked at her, a shook her head lightly. “You’re our class representative, Chiaki. You should’ve been the first to introduce yourself to our new classmate.”

“New classmate?” Chiaki repeated, only after a long pause on her part, where her brain was still alternating between figuring out the best strategies for the game she was playing and the words that were coming out of Sonia’s mouth.

“Were you sleepin’ or something?” Kazuichi asked with a grin, “You never noticed the crowd next to you?”

Chiaki looked to see what Kazuichi was pointing at, and for the first time noticed that many of her classmates had gathered around the desk that had been unoccupied for the past three years. This was probably a sign that she should sleep longer and more frequently, just as Mikan and Chisa always urged her to do.

“A new classmate…?” Chiaki repeated, her brain still trying to catch up.

Kazuichi snickered, and Sonia nodded solemnly.

“Yes, he does not seem to like talking much, though.”

Chiaki looked sideways again, for the first time taking in the new student. Ibuki seemed to have taken a liking to his dark, long hair that not just rivalled her own but was even longer. However, where Ibuki took great care of her hair, the new student’s hair seemed to hide half of his face behind a curtain of messy and uncombed hair. Chiaki wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

Ibuki’s eyes were positively sparkling as she held a lock of his long hair in her hands, and to Chiaki’s surprise he didn’t even react. It looked as if he didn’t even notice that Ibuki was touching his hair.

“You need to comb your hair more often, Izuru! Do you know how much potential you have? Ibuki can comb it for you! Right now, I have a spare brush with me!”

“Or I can do it!” Teruteru offered, comb already in hand.

The new student jerked his face back, so that Ibuki was no longer playing with his hair. He looked at both Ibuki and Teruteru with a strange indifference, neither with any warmth nor coldness.

“Don’t.”

Chiaki blinked, her heartbeat suddenly speeding up.

“You’re right,” Akane said, with a big smile on her face, “You should just cut it all off! That much hair is impractical. It’s just a matter of time before you have an accident. You can’t run with that kind of hair. You’d trip or something.”

“Or you’d get stuck in a train door!” Ibuki said with a gasp, “Your career would be ruined!”

“Can I interest someone else in some combing?” Teruteru asked.

Chiaki blinked a couple times more and moved away from her desk. Hesitatingly, she walked towards the new student’s desk. It felt like the distance was longer than it actually was. She stared at him, and she felt slightly disappointed to see red eyes staring back. His gaze was intense, in the same way that Peko’s gaze could feel intense. Maybe it had to do with the colour red. She didn’t find what she had hoped to see. The hair should’ve given it away, but when she had heard his voice, just for a moment…

“Chiaki… what are you doing?” Sonia spoke up uncertainly, not too far behind her.

Chiaki hadn’t noticed that the conversation had come to a sudden stop until Sonia called her name, and she was pulled out of her daze. Only now did she realize that she was leaning in a bit too close to the new student, trying to look for something on his face that was not there. He just stared back at her blankly.

She straightened her back, and took a step backwards.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized to the student, “I just thought… you reminded me of someone. I’m Chiaki Nanami, the class representative. Nice to meet you.”

“You know someone who looks like Izuru?” Ibuki said, looking at Chiaki as if she had suddenly become a stranger, but then her eyes started sparkling again. “You should introduce him to Ibuki! He would be perfect for—“

“You know there’s things like wigs, right?” Fuyuhiko snapped, “You idiot!”

“You’re an idiot!” Mahiru snapped, quick to jump to another girl’s defence, “Wigs would fly off!”

Chiaki left her classmates to their banter. She looked back to the new student. He didn’t seem interested in their conversation in the slightest.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” she said.

“Izuru Kamukura.”

Chiaki spent so much with her eyes plastered to a screen that she was actually better at distinguishing voices than faces. She recognized that voice. There was no mistaking it, not now that she’d heard his voice for the second time.

“Hajime?”

The boy looked at her blankly. It was Ibuki who answered in his stead.

“No, it’s Izuru!”

“Hajime?” Chiaki repeated, trying to urge her new classmate to speak again.

“I hate to break it to ya, but that’s not even remotely close,” Kazuichi said somewhere behind her.

Suddenly, Chiaki felt the weight of hands on her shoulders and when she slightly turned her head, she noticed that Sonia was the one who was touching her.

“Chiaki, when was the last time you slept?”

“I… uh…” Chiaki’s head was still spinning, because even though his face didn’t seem to match, that was still Hajime’s voice she had heard—but at the same time, she couldn’t quite remember she had last taken anything more than a short nap. “Um…”

“I will bring her to her dorm!” Teruteru volunteered.

“Stay away!” Sonia said ferociously, pulling Chiaki backwards and lifting her hand as if to physically stop the Ultimate Chef. “I will bring her to her room.”

“I’ll come with you, if you d-don’t mind!” Mikan volunteered, “I could have a look at Chiaki…”

“Thank you, Mikan,” Sonia said with a welcoming smile towards the Ultimate Nurse.

Chisa didn’t try to stop them. Even their teacher was worried about her, Chiaki realized.

“I will come too!” Kazuichi volunteered.

“No.”

“M-Miss Sonia!”

Chiaki let Sonia push her out of the classroom with a gentle touch on her shoulder, and they were quickly accompanied by Mikan. Chiaki barely listened as Sonia asked her questions, although she did nod every now and then. Mikan walked along with them, just one step behind them, letting Sonia take the lead. Chiaki zoned out, her thoughts drowning out the concerned questions from her two friends.

Are you making memories? Make lots of them.

Chiaki let out a brief sigh, and closed her eyes. Maybe her sleep-deprived brain had fooled her. Maybe her desire to see Hajime again, just to know if he was okay or not, had made her think that their voices sounded the same. Izuru didn’t look like Hajime. He didn’t even speak like Hajime, though they had a similar voice. She had barely interacted with him, but she knew they were two completely different people. She felt stupid for calling him Hajime.

They ended in front of her dorm room, and she opened it and walked through the door, followed by her worried friends, hoping that a bit of sleep would clear her head.

Hajime Hinata was supposed to not have had any friends, not in the Reserve Course department and definitely not in the Main Course department. It had been part of the reason why he had been chosen for the Hope Cultivation Project and not someone else.

Either the project leaders had been negligent and allowed such information to pass by them, or his past-self had managed to withhold information from them by his own skill.

Izuru highly doubted it the latter.

Hajime was supposed to not have left much of an impression on anyone. Still, one of the other students had called him by that name, just minutes after he had entered the classroom.

“You must think Chiaki is a raving lunatic!” Hiyoko Saionji said, covering up a smile with her hand, “Don’t worry, this is how she usually acts when she is off her meds. Last time she looked at someone with that kind of face, we never heard of the poor guy again! Don’t worry, though. I’m pretty sure he isn’t dead. Probably just locked in her basement.”

“Geez, don’t say such weird things!” Mahiru Koizumi chastised the other girl, putting her hands akimbo. She turned to look at Izuru, her face turning apologetic, “Really, don’t listen to Hiyoko. Chiaki would never hurt anyone.”

“On purpose,” Hiyoko added.

Mahiru merely shot Hiyoko a warning look, before turning her attention to Izuru again.

“I bet that she spent the entire night gaming again. No matter what we tell her, she just can’t seem to put a game down once she’s started. I’m sure Chiaki wasn’t trying to be rude, or anything…”

Izuru said nothing, preoccupied with his own thoughts.

Chiaki Nanami’s knowledge of his past-self put the entire project at risk. It didn’t really matter why there was someone at Hope’s Peak who could tie Izuru to his past-self, it only mattered that there was. He knew what the project leaders would want him to do. They would want to know. Her knowledge could tie Hope’s Peak Academy’s research department to human experimentation if the information was ever properly utilized.

The chances of that happening were nearly non-existent. An extraordinary amount of chance and luck would have to be involved. Hajime Hinata no longer existed, not in person and not on paper. Not just that, but Izuru was capable of convincing Chiaki Nanami that he was a completely different person than his past-self. He could even make her do some investigating which would forever put her doubts to rest—or he could just wait it out. He wasn’t going to be at Hope’s Peak forever. He wasn’t even going to be here for more than a few weeks.

Ibuki Mioda caught his attention by grabbing hold of his hair again.

“Izuru, just hear me out…”

Izuru didn’t bother to stop her anymore.

“Izuru!”

Izuru recognized the voice of the girl who called out to him. He ignored her and kept walking the same pace in the hallway. It was in between classes, and the hallways were filled with students. He hoped the girl would lose her interest or her patience and leave him alone.

He knew better.

“Izuru!”

The voice sounded a lot louder this time. Nearly everyone in the hallway paused to see who was screaming, and some were more interested to see who the girl was screaming at. He heard some students mutter and yell as they were roughly shoved out of the girl’s way. He heard her approaching quickly, the sound of her heels familiar to his ears.

He felt her long, fake fingernails digging into his shoulder as she roughly stopped him from walking. They both knew he allowed her to do so. This meeting had been fated to happen from the moment he set foot in the main building.

Junko Enoshima used her hold on his shoulder to make him face her. Her smile was strained.

“I thought you’d be happier to see me again, Izuru. Don’t you remember me? Your only friend? Don’t remember this perfectly dressed specimen of a woman who was the only one to visit you when you were… not well?”

Her casual pause went accompanied by a quick glance towards some of their fellow students, who were nearby sporting curious looks on their faces.

“This is a reunion between two old friends!” Junko snarled, “Don’t you monkeys have better things to do?!”

Some students quickly scattered away.

“Izuru!” When Junko turned towards him again, nothing remaining from her snarl. Her carefree smile was back, and she swung one of her arms around his shoulders. Izuru immediately shrugged her off.

“So cold, as usual... Are you still bored? I’m bored! Let’s do something fun!”

“Who are you?”

She stared at him for a moment, and then raised her hand to her mouth.

“Don’t… don’t tell me you’re mad. Are you mad? I—I can’t believe it…”

“Move aside,” he said. He resumed walking.

As expected, Junko wasn’t about to let him go that easily. As long as she was still following him around, he wasn’t going to return to his dorm. He didn’t want her to know where his dorm was this soon. He had no doubt that she would find out fast enough, but it was unnecessary to make it any easier for her than it already was.

“You are mad at me,” Junko said, her voice lower than before, and her wide grin was replaced with a conniving smile, “You are mad, because you enjoyed my visits! You like me! Well, not that I can blame you, of course. Who can resist me?”

He drowned out her annoying voice, and walked without a destination in mind. He was trying to figure out a place where Junko would not follow him, but she was tenacious when something caught her interest and would probably even follow him into a sinkhole.

“Izuru? Izuru!”

Izuru turned his face and looked her into her eyes.

“Stop following me.”

“You didn’t hear a word of what I just said, did you?” Junko said, her eyes sparkling. “I didn’t stop visiting you because I wanted to. I stopped because I was suspended. Yes, they dared to suspend me! I told them the truth, that it was fucking Mukuro, but they didn’t believe me thanks to that little dirty…”

Junko’s fists were balled, and her she grit her teeth—and then suddenly, she remembered she had an audience. She straightened her back and composed herself immediately.

“Ah… It doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that I never left you willingly, Izuru. In fact, I thought a lot about you. You were constantly on my mind.”

“You bore me.”

Junko’s mouth actually twitched a little at that.

“Have you really forgotten everything?” she asked, her voice soft but her calculating eyes never leaving his face, “I’m the only friend you ever had. I’m still the only friend you have. I’m the only one willing to overlook that rotten personality of yours. If anything, remember that.”

There was a sudden silence.

Classes had started a few minutes ago, and they were the only students left in the hallway. Junko was staring at him intently, expecting some kind of response. Izuru looked away first.

“See? I knew you’d come around. Let’s meet up tomorrow, okay? Meet me in the cafeteria, during lunch. I’ll be waiting, Izuru! We’re going to have fun now that we’re back together again!”

After shaking off Junko Enoshima, Izuru returned to his dorm. It was exactly as he had left it that morning, his window still open thanks to his teacher. A breeze moved his curtains slightly. Izuru didn’t bother to close the window nor his curtains when he sat down on his bed, resuming his position from that morning. It was as if he had never left at all.

He listened to the clock ticking for a while, and now that his window was open, the voices of students outside were a lot more pronounced. Izuru listened to the students passing by beneath his open windows for a long time. Their conversations were almost painfully trivial, void of any sort of meaning, empty and boring.

He had once thought that everything unfamiliar had the potential to be of interest, but he was rapidly changing his mind. Things were simply interesting for as long as they were unfamiliar. He had been sent here under the guise of developing his talents further, but the truth was that their project was failing. No one could provide him with the incentive he needed. He was always in the presence of the same predictable minds, asking him the same questions, asking him to perform the same actions over and over again.

It was mind-numbing, and he had been growing tired of it.

His apathetic demeanour had been of no concern to anyone until the moment they realized that it was affecting their research.

He watched the shadows in his room grow taller and, until his entire room was engulfed by darkness. The school grounds finally quieted down.

His thoughts went to Junko Enoshima more than once. Months ago, her visits had been the only thing breaking the monotony of his life. Even though the chances were extremely low, especially given her current state, there was a slim possibility that she might be able to provide him with what he looked for.

He knew he would only be disappointed once more.

No matter how many times he turned out to be right, the smallest bit of hope still resided somewhere inside of him.

He wondered when that last bit of hope would finally die.

Chisa always felt uneasy leaving her class to their own devices, no matter for how short a while it was. Her students could be a force of nature when left unmanaged. Still, Chisa had never allowed absences from her class without a valid reason. If she wanted to instil that into her newest student, she needed to be strict with him from the start.

The locks to the dorm rooms had never been a match for her toolbox. She had had a lot of time to practice her lock picking skills when she had been a student herself. Juzo said that she was the reason he always slept with one eye open. She did knock on Izuru’s door three times, before taking it out. It was only fair to give her student a chance.

Izuru was lying on his side on his bed, fully dressed in his student uniform. She had a suspicion that he had never changed into sleeping wear the night before. He was not moving from his bed, staring at her through his half-lidded eyes. Just like the day before, she felt a little uneasy in his presence. His red eyes almost seemed to glow in the dark, and he made no effort to acknowledge her presence, aside from silently staring at her.

Glancing around his room, she felt there was just something off. It looked exactly the same as the day before, except that his desk was now soaking wet. That night it had rained. Apparently, Izuru hadn’t bothered to close his window and curtains. It was still drizzling outside. Without saying anything, she walked towards the window and closed it. She glanced at the completely empty and soaking wet desk.

“Do you want to get sick or something?” she asked Izuru, and turned to look at the unmoving student, “You should take better care of yourself, mister.”

“Why are you here?”

“You’re late for class again. I’m here to pick you up.”

“It’s not mandatory to—“

“It is!” Chisa interrupted. She felt a bit unnerved. Izuru still hadn’t bothered to sit up. There was a feeling gnawing at her that there was something wrong with her student, and that it was unlike anything she had dealt with before. “Homeroom is where we all come together as a group—that includes you!”

Izuru remained quiet.

“Come on, Izuru. Let’s not keep the others waiting for too long. I just hope the classroom is still one piece when we return.”

She went back to the hallway, and found herself closing the door behind her. She knelt in front of the door, fixing the lock she’d unscrewed just a few moments ago. Someone walked past and casually greeted her, as if she wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. She really wasn’t sure whether or not Izuru was going to come outside in a bit or not. She’d decided to give him a little space as she fixed the lock.

Just as she was done, the door opened.

Izuru stared at her with the his unchanging expression—but she was mistaken, she realized in a split of a second. She thought there was a slight difference in his expression, a moment before they locked eyes and he quickly hid it.

Game over.

Chiaki stared at the screen in front of her, choosing to quit the game rather than to try and challenge the final boss again. It wasn’t her usual way of doing things, but it wasn’t as if she couldn’t beat the final boss. She’d beaten him a few times before, after all. The real problem was that she was having trouble focussing.

She was so aware of her classmates that it was distracting her. Still, it was one classmate in particular whose presence she really couldn’t drown out that easily.

It felt wrong to try and picture Izuru without the long hair and the red eyes. It felt wrong to imagine his hair a few shades lighter and his eyes in a different colour. It was wishful thinking at its worst. It was weird. It was even a kind of creepy thing to do.

She couldn’t say that she had completely given up on Hajime—she still sometimes choose to play games around the Reserve Course building in hopes of finally running into him again—but she didn’t know why she kept thinking of Hajime every time she looked at Izuru. He was completely different from Hajime. He was a another person entirely.

The thought that they were perhaps related had crossed her mind, but there hadn’t been any recognition in his eyes when she had called him Hajime.

She had called him Hajime, she remembered once more. She felt embarrassed by what had happened the day before. It had taken her a good night’s rest to realize that it was crazy to think her classmate was anyone else than who he said he was.

Chiaki wasn’t sure why Hajime had so suddenly and insistently invaded her mind.

She had not seen him in a long time. At one point, she had realized that there were only two options: either, he no longer was a student at Hope’s Peak or he was avoiding her. She liked to think that he would’ve said goodbye to her if he had had to leave the academy or if he had chosen to leave for whatever reasons. That left the second option…

Izuru spent the entire class staring out the window. He initiated conversation with no one, curtly answered when someone asked him a question and no one was able to uphold a conversation with him for very long. He didn’t seem interested.

It seemed he was just waiting for class to pass.

He turned his head, and her heart skipped a beat when their eyes met for an instant.

She quickly turned her head away, looking to the black screen in front of her, hoping he hadn’t noticed her staring. She knew better.

The cafeteria was crowded when he entered, and he was semi-tempted to leave straight away. Still, he found himself interested in what Junko Enoshima had to say, and that’s what kept him from exiting the crowded space.

Junko noticed him straight away. She waved him over with a big smile.

As Izuru made his way over, he noticed the absence of Mukuro Ikusaba straight away. His eyes wandered through the cafeteria, but she was nowhere in sight. Neither was she anywhere hidden from sight. She wasn’t the type of person to leave Junko alone for a long time.

“I saved you a seat,” Junko said, as if blissfully unaware that despite how crowded the cafeteria was, she remained seated at a table for four by herself. “I also got you lunch. I remember how bad you are at taking care of yourself, Izuru. I bet you’ve already skipped several meals since arriving here, haven’t you?”

He didn’t answer her, and instead inspected the lunch she’d gotten him.

“What, don’t you trust me?”

“Where is your sister?”

“What are you talking about?” Junko said, knitting her eyebrows together, “I don’t have a sister.”

“Mukuro Ikusaba.”

“What about her?”

“Where is she?”

“Why do you care about that waste of life?” Junko asked, her face turning serious. Any hint of a smile instantly disappeared and it was hard not to notice the slumbering anger in her eyes, “We’d all be better off if that vermin had never existed in the first place. Izuru, can’t you go and kill her for me? Pretty please.”

Izuru stared at the blue-eyed girl in front of him, who was looking at him expectantly. Izuru felt disappointed. He’d come here in hopes that Junko Enoshima might provide him with what he was looking for. If this was all she had to offer then he had wasted his time.

“You’re probably thinking that I’m boring, aren’t you? Heh, you’d be right about that. I’ve been angry at Mukuro for so long, that I’m even boring my fucking self. Mukuro has chosen her own side, and I wish her the best. Chapter closed, close the fucking book and burn it. Sayanora bitch!” she spat out the last word, “Let’s move onto much more interesting things, such as you, Izuru.”

She smiled brilliantly, moving closer towards him.

“I did a little digging, did a little asking. I mean, it isn’t every day you just randomly walk into the Ultimate Hope, is it? So, they decided you were ready to let loose into the world, huh? Or, ready enough. What a coincidence, that just when I need someone, my old friend arrives at this godforsaken place. Everybody leaves me, Izuru. First fucking what’s-her-name, then fucking what’s-his-name. And they dare to patronize me! He’s all like: Look, Junko, I like you and all, but you have some real problems! And she’s all like: Junko, my therapist told me you’re like poison to me! Actually, I made that up. Poison sounds more poetic than what that excuse for a therapist actually said. Problems? Can you believe that? Do I look like I got fucking problems?!”

“Yes.”

To be honest, he could’ve easily kept quiet. He had said it just to spite her.

Junko looked at him with raised eyebrows. Then she started laughing, and her laugh grew slowly in volume and intensity. Izuru noticed some students at the tables nearest to them had started getting up, throwing nervous looks at the Ultimate Fashionista.

Izuru started eating his lunch, aware that Junko might take a while, depending on her mood.

“And that’s why you’re here,” she said, after she was done laughing, “All that brilliance, so talented, yet cannot say a single nice word to save his life. Life must be so boring for you… but I could help you out. Are you interested?”

Izuru was listening.

Izuru had to admit that he was curious how a high school student had managed to discover a hidden floor underneath the school. He knew the blueprints of Hope’s Peak, and officially this floor didn’t exist. It wasn’t nearly as spacious as all the other floors. There were several rooms. It was hidden well, and they had to pass through several hidden doorways and trapdoors before they finally arrived at their destination.

Junko led him around by his hand with her usual enthusiasm. After having jerked his hand back for at least three times, he stopped trying to fight her and let her drag him around.

Fighting against it really wasn’t worth the effort.

There was a room with a drawing board and a lot of blueprints for some lethal looking devices, a room containing multiple bookcases filled with numerous memoirs bearing the most self-indulgent titles and some other bookcases which were filled with banned books on violence and some atypical world views. She seemed to have done a lot of research of how to engulf the world into despair judging from the room that was filled with world maps that were covered in thumbtacks and connected to each other by yarn.

“Soooo?” she asked, still not letting go of his arm, and staring at him with her big blue eyes, “What do you think? Are you in? This must beat that continuous state of boredom you are in, right? First, we take over this school, make everyone suffer for their treatment of me, and then we take over the fucking world!”

Junko had truly not changed at all.

“Do I inspect a glimpse of interest there? Hmm?”

Over a year ago, she’d offered him a possible end to his boredom. She had been different, and she had been interesting. Yet all this time had passed, and she remained completely the same.

It was a disappointment.

“I pass.”

Her grip on his arm tightened, just as her smile suddenly seemed to strain a bit.

“I misheard that.”

He remained quiet. Her fingernails dug into his flesh, but he didn’t flinch.

“You cannot pass,” she hissed, no longer feigning ignorance.

Her grip on his arm got even worse, and Izuru yanked his arm back before she left a bruise.

“You cannot pass,” she repeated, taking a step forward. Her face was scrunched up in anger, there was rage bubbling up inside her, threatening to spill out. “I know your secret, Izuru. You’re a fucking human experiment and they’re afraid you’ll go onto a killing spree unless you’re somehow socialized. They’re endangering the regular students by throwing you in their midst! You’re a fucking time bomb! If this is made public, Hope’s Peak will be closed forever and you’ll be locked into a fucking laboratory and they’ll never let you out! All I need to do is to give them one fucking name, and they’ll be able to figure all this shit out of their own! Do you realize how many journalists I know, Hajime fucking Hinata?! I’m a model!”

It was a strange place for her to run out of steam.

She was breathing heavily.

This had been her second chance and still she hadn’t done anything unpredictable. Junko Enoshima wasn’t very interesting at all. Despite all of her meticulous planning and obsessing, she missed the tools to put her plans into work. She’d chased away her allies and had revealed her true nature for everyone to see, her earlier plans had failed and she had been suspended for it. She had lost the trust of everyone around her, and now she was clinging onto him because he was her last hope.

He stepped away from her, and her eyes burned.

“I’ll tell it to everyone, I swear!”

“Go ahead,” Izuru replied, “Why should I care if Hope’s Peak closes?”

“You really don’t care if you’re thrown back into a research facility?” she asked, incredulously.

“What does it matter?”

Junko blinked, her anger dissipating, a startled look overtaking her face. Izuru saw it as the right moment to turn around and leave. Junko didn’t try to stop him, but as he was climbing the stairs that were supposed to lead back to the school grounds, he heard her making her way towards the bottom of the stairs. Her voice echoed after him.

“Do you truly not feel anything at all, anymore? I pity you, Izuru.”

Izuru never slept easily. He wasn’t the type to twist and turn in his bed, but he was very prone to staring at the same spot for hours on an end. He never quite knew when sleep would take him, because feeling sleepy was very similar to his usual state. When he eventually did sleep, his brain still had trouble resting. He woke frequently in the middle of the night, always feeling as if he had done nothing more than close his eyes for a moment.

Junko’s words wouldn’t stop echoing through his mind that night. Perhaps it was because he had really nothing more interesting to think about, or perhaps Junko had managed to get under his skin, despite him knowing very well that that her way of operating.

His poor sleeping habits had not been a problem until now.

Now, he had to keep to a schedule. He had classes to attend.

Most of all, he had a very demanding teacher.

“Izuru.”

He blearily opened his eyes, and it took him a moment to focus. The moment he realized he had fallen asleep, his mind instantly awoke. Still, his body seemed to weigh more than it usually did. His head was dully aching. He had slept extremely poorly ever since he’d arrived at Hope’s Peak. He pushed himself up from his bed, noting the familiar apron his teacher liked to wear next to his bed. He looked up, expecting to find irritation on her face. If she was in his room again, it meant that he had really overslept this time.

She frowned at him.

He waited for her to say something.

“Have you been sleeping well?”

“It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Oh, I believe that,” she answered, but not in the slightly mocking tone he would’ve expected her to use, “Have you had any sleep in the past few days?”

“Yes.”

“Enough sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Eight hours’ worth of sleep?”

“No,” he admitted after a pause.

“Thought so. You don’t look so good, Izuru. It may be best if you go to the nurse’s office.”

“I feel fine,” he protested.

He wasn’t even sure why he did it. It had never helped him before, so why should it now? Yukizome’s expression changed a little, and her shoulders suddenly relaxed.

“If you’d prefer, I could ask Mikan to check up on you. If you’d rather not go to the nurse’s office.”

Izuru was about to decline, but then he paused. He closed his mouth, and thought about it for a second. Yukizome waited patiently for him to come to a decision, but seemed strangely pleased when he preferred Mikan visiting him over going to the office himself.

She exited his room while saying that Mikan would be there in a couple of minutes, leaving the door a chink open. Izuru didn’t feel like getting up from the bed and closing it. He didn’t move from his bed, and just waited for the Ultimate Nurse to arrive.

Her arrival was announced by the sound of something falling, and a couple of different voices in the hallway asking someone if they were alright. Very soon afterwards, a completely flustered Mikan Tsumiki entered his room, carrying a bag with her. She seemed to be even more flustered when she suddenly remembered that she had walked into his room without knocking.

“I’m so s-sorry! I w-wasn’t thinking! The door was o-open, and I-I…”

Her loud apology grated on his headache. It must’ve shown on his face, because Mikan quickly quieted down. She seemed nervous to approach him, but she didn’t let it stop her. She started asking him questions about how he felt and if he had any particular reasons to be stressed. She asked him about his sleeping habits, frowning a bit when he answered her truthfully. After a couple of questions, she started digging around in her bag, and eventually her hand emerged with a box of pills that was simply labelled with an animal sticker.

“This isn’t a long-term solution for insomnia, but for now it will help you to get some sleep. Y-You look like need it.”

Izuru stared as she opened the box, and shook out an unlabelled pill and didn’t recognize it. She must’ve made it herself.

He remembered that he had been explicitly instructed to go to the research department if he wasn’t feeling well. In case he wasn’t able to, they expected him to give them a call. He couldn’t remember ever having had a pill or another form of medicine before. The researchers had been afraid that it would have had unexpected consequences or that it would lead to faulty conclusions during tests.

So when Mikan returned from his bathroom and handed him a glass of water together with a sleeping pill, he knew he should’ve rejected it. He could’ve said he had some sort of condition. He could’ve pretended to swallow and hide the pill under his tongue.

Instead, he took the glass of water and the pill and did what Mikan expected him to do.

She smiled nervously after he handed her back the glass of water.

“Um, these pills are pretty strong. You’ll probably be asleep until dinner. They’re not really meant for casual use, and they’re c-certainly not a long-term solution for insomnia… but they will help you get the sleep you need, for now. S-sleeping is very important.”

After she left, he closed his eyes. He didn’t even remember falling asleep.

The next morning, Izuru awoke feeling different. He could vaguely recall he had had a dream, which must have been side-effects of Mikan’s pill. He couldn’t remember ever having had a dream before. He was not supposed to be able to dream.

Still, his head felt clearer, his body lighter and for some reason, he really wanted to take a shower. He was early and he had plenty of time to take a shower before classes started. He made his way to his bathroom. His hair always took a while to wash properly and usually he didn’t have the patience to do it. If he didn’t do it properly, his hair became a tangled mess, and sometimes he just opted to skip showers so that he didn’t have to deal with it in its entirety. It had been months since he had brushed his hair himself.

Someone knocked on his door.

“Izuru?”

He looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand, and realized that his hair had indeed taken longer than he had thought it would, as usual. It was too early for his teacher to persuade him to come to class. He recognized the voice on the other side of the door, and it wasn’t his teacher’s.

Chiaki Nanami blinked when the door opened, as if it was completely unexpected and she needed to process it for a bit. There was a handheld console in her hands, but her attention was fixed on him. His hair, to be more precise. She was openly staring. She seemed to be in the habit of doing that.

“Why are you here?”

His question jolted her out her thoughts.

“Mikan wanted to bring you breakfast, but she... had an accident. I wanted to ask if you have any preferences, but... you don’t look like you’re ill… Maybe we could get breakfast together?”

Izuru thought about it for a moment, but he really couldn’t think of any reason to decline. He was as good as ready, and he would’ve left for the cafeteria to get something to eat regardless of Chiaki’s company.

Chiaki seemed to be immersed into her game as they were walking, and he kept quiet. He took in the students they passed on their way to the cafeteria, some of whom could be classified as morning persons, and some obviously were not. They passed the odd sight of a blond, bespectacled boy hurling harsh insults at a nervous-looking girl who wore her long purple hair in two braids. From the conversation, Izuru could gather that the boy was missing some undergarments and he suspected the girl was responsible for it.

Izuru’s mind clouded. Boring. Insignificant.

He and Chiaki entered the cafeteria and found a place to sit and eat their breakfast. Chiaki put a straw in her drink, and managed to continue gaming while drinking. Izuru was sure she must’ve tried something similar with food at some point in her life.

“I haven’t yet apologized for the other day,” Chiaki said, and he turned to look at her. She was looking at him over the screen of her Game Girl. “Sorry for acting so weird on your first day… I didn’t mean to be rude… I was really tired.”

“Your classmates already explained it,” Izuru said, belatedly realizing his mistake.

“Don’t you mean our classmates?”

Izuru nodded, putting another bite in his mouth as an excuse not to say anything on the matter. Chiaki was still looking at him. He could feel her eyes burning.

“Do you want to play a game with me after our classes are finished?”

“I don’t have a Game Girl,” Izuru said, nodding towards the handheld console in her hands.

“We could take turns or I could borrow one from someone.”

“I don’t like gaming.”

“Then what do you like to do?”

Izuru wasn’t sure how to answer that. To him, you just did things. He did things. Just because he was good at something, didn’t mean he enjoyed doing it. He did it because he had to, because someone told him to do it. He was curious how it felt to enjoy doing something, to be as immersed as Chiaki was into her gaming.

Chiaki was looking at him, still waiting for an answer, he realized.

“Other things,” he answered.

“Miss Yukizome lieeeed!” Ibuki yelled after she spotted Izuru in his seat.

He and Chiaki had been one of the first to arrive at the classroom. He was waiting for class to start, looking at the window and ignoring Ibuki’s shout. Chiaki was in the seat to his right, also oblivious to Ibuki’s shouting, though it was for other reasons. As absent-minded as she was, she was also capable of sustained focus.

“She said Izuru was sick, but look at him!” Ibuki grabbed the person nearest to her, and that happened to be a very startled Kazuichi, “He has never looked better! Ibuki cannot believe how beautiful his hair is! He would make the greatest—“

“Could you please shut up about that guy’s seaweed hair?” Hiyoko said irritably, pushing herself past Ibuki through the door, “and move aside, idiot!”

Ibuki let go of a squirming Kazuichi and quickly made way to her own seat. She wasted no time grabbing his hair and feeling it up. She even smelled it and asked him what shampoo he used. Izuru wasn’t sure how to respond to the girl, so he just ignored her.

It was when Teruteru suddenly also got hold of his hair and started smelling it, that Mahiru emerged from somewhere and demanded that both classmates leave Izuru alone. Ibuki let go of his hair, slightly reluctant, muttering that she couldn’t resist and Teruteru returned to his own seat, calling Mahiru a killjoy.

“Geez,” she huffed, crossing her arms and staring at him with an accusing look, “You should stand up for yourself! I can’t believe you need a girl to defend you. You are a boy, right?! Act like it!”

“Actually, I’m not so sure he is a boy,” Hiyoko drawled.

“Hiyoko!” Mahiru hissed, shooting a look towards the blonde girl, and then she immediately looked to him, “Izuru!”

He looked at her with a frown.

“Are you just going to let her say that? Honestly, stand up for yourself!”

“I don’t think he can. Just look at him. He looks like a—“

“Hiyoko, that is not how you treat other people!” Sonia had only just entered the room, but she had apparently overheard enough to decide to step in.

“Honestly, I’m not even sure if I’d classify him as that! He seems more like a robot to me.”

Izuru drowned out the other students, returning his attention to the window, and looked at the school grounds. Some students were already hurrying to make it to their class on time, others were just leisurely strolling. He caught sight of Chisa Yukizome walking alongside one of the security guards, a tan, muscled man who towered over her.

Yukizome and the guard remained chatting for a couple of minutes, before she eventually checked her watch, and quickly made way towards the building, visibly startled. Two minutes later, she entered the classroom, panting. Her eyes immediately went towards the clock on the wall, just in time to see it strike the exact time that class was supposed to start.

“Sit down!” she said to the students who hadn’t yet settled down. She took in the class for a moment and she couldn’t hide her surprise when they landed on Izuru. A smile appeared on her face, and she wasted no time in starting the class. She split them in groups, and had them complete a quick group assignment. Its topic was cleaning, and it soon became clear that the test was aimed at one student in particular. Kazuichi couldn't stop grumbling as he answered the test. A suspicious amount of questions were about oil.

Izuru ended up in a group with Hiyoko, Fuyuhiko and Sonia, and he knew right away that it would be far more trouble than it was worth. He didn’t know what he had done to Hiyoko, but she had taken a clear dislike to him.

“This is supposed to be a group assignment,” Fuyuhiko reminded him with a frown, when the others were still discussing the answers to the first two questions, and he had already filled in the entire first page.

“Let robot boy be robot boy,” Hiyoko said, though she seemed irritated when she noticed what Fuyuhiko was referring to.

“Please stop calling Izuru that,” Sonia said.

“What? Why? Izuru doesn’t seem to mind, so why should you?” She turned to Izuru, smiling. “You don’t mind, do you, robot boy?”

“No.”

“See?” Hiyoko said, though his answer hardly seemed to satisfy her. “Tell her why you don’t mind, robot boy.”

“Your opinion means nothing to me,” he answered, matter-of-factly.

The stunned silence that followed was broken by the sound of Fuyuhiko snickering. Sonia stared at Izuru with wide eyes, at a loss for words.

“You… I…” Hiyoko stammered. Her eyes were getting watery, “I saw you with that ugly pig whore, Enoshima!”

Fuyuhiko’s snickering stopped.

“Is that true?” Sonia asked.

“It is,” Izuru answered, even it wasn’t anyone’s business.

“I saw you two, alright! Eating together in the cafeteria, as if it was some date!” Hiyoko was now standing up, unafraid to cause a scene, “It was a disgusting sight. That whore just shows a bit of cleavage, and you disappear with her into some closet. You are a brainless idiot, thinking with your—“

“Hiyoko!” Sonia interrupted, sounding horrified.

“And that is why I call you robot boy. You’d have to be a complete failure of a human being to be willing to go anywhere near her, let alone f—“

“Hiyoko!” Sonia interrupted again, even more horrified.

“You may not give two shits about my opinion, but I think you’re a horrible, disgusting excuse—“

Hiyoko was shut up when something hit her in the back of the head. Chisa Yukizome had appeared at her side, her arms crossed and with a stern look on her face. In her hand was a rolled up newspaper. Hiyoko rubbed the back of her head, before looking towards her teacher with anger and betrayal.

“Miss—“

“Apologize to Izuru, now.”

“But—“

“Now.”

“No!” Hiyoko said resolutely, backing away from the table, “I meant what I said and I’m not going to apologize!”

Hiyoko sprinted towards the door, pushed it violently out of her way and fled into the hallway. Izuru noticed that their teacher had ample of opportunity to stop the girl, but she chose not to.

“Well…” Kazuichi said awkwardly, “It’s never really a group assignment if it doesn't end in someone causing a scene.”

“That was uncalled for,” Sonia said disapprovingly.

“M-Miss Sonia!”

“What was that about?” Yukizome asked, studying the faces of the three students in front of her. Izuru waited for someone to answer, but then he realized that neither Sonia nor Fuyuhiko seemed to be willing.

“I don’t know,” he answered reluctantly.

“I’m sure it is all a misunderstanding,” Sonia said.

Behind him, he heard a chair scraping over the floor. Moments later, Mahiru hurried towards the door, hastily apologizing to Yukizome, and adding that she needed to find Hiyoko before she hurt someone. Hiyoko and Mahiru didn’t return to class, and the remaining time with Fuyuhiko and Sonia was awkward. Both kept looking at him, and when he looked back, they quickly glanced away.

His involvement with Junko seemed to unsettle the other students.

He also didn’t know why the Ultimate Traditional Dancer would harbour such intense feelings of dislike towards the Ultimate Fashionista, who wasn't in the same year. Considering that it was Junko who was involved, he could imagine a few scenarios.

Still, he didn’t care enough to ask.

Izuru wandered throughout the school grounds without really going anywhere.

Upon returning to his dorm, he quickly discovered that someone had thrown a stink bomb against his door. The entire floor smelled as if someone had died there, and his room was the worst. He’d thought that he could get used to the smell if he just gave it some time, but a serious-looking boy, with big black eyebrows and intense red eyes had forbidden him from entering his own room. The boy insisted that the floor wasn’t safe for anyone until they knew for sure that the stink bomb was, in fact, nothing more than a simple stink bomb.

Apparently, getting on Hiyoko’s bad side was not without consequences.

Izuru wandered outside, idly following the paths he came across, seeing the school grounds with his own eyes, instead of looking at a layout. He almost walked past a big fountain, when he suddenly realized how desolate the area was. This place in the gardens was a good distance away from the main building. In fact, it was much closer to the Reserve Course building.

Reserve Course students didn’t have their talent to fall back on, and the only thing keeping them from failing was studying intensely and passing their tests. All of their classes required attendance, not just the one with the eccentric teacher who made up her own rules. Even though Main Course students had more time to roam the grounds, they usually didn’t stray far from the main building. There wasn’t any reason to.

Izuru just wanted to return to his dorm, but he didn’t care much for receiving another lecture by the self-appointed guardian of his floor. He settled for the fountain, lying down on the edge, hoping no one would disturb him this far away from the main building.

For a while, no one did.

When the sun began to set, he heard someone approaching him. He kept his eyes shut, hoping that the other person would think he was asleep and leave him alone. The person came closer and closer, and Izuru realized that they had come too close. He opened his eyes, just in time to warn Chiaki of his presence. Her eyes had been glued to her screen. She nearly sat on him.

Izuru pushed himself up and lowered his legs back to the floor.

“What a strange place to meet you,” Chiaki muttered, her thumbs suddenly no longer moving.

“I could say the same.”

“I come here often... It’s a good place to game without interruptions.”

“There are quiet spots closer to the main building.”

“This spot is special,” Chiaki said.

He felt that this was where he was supposed to ask why that was the case, but he really didn’t like asking questions when he wasn’t interested in the answers. He kept quiet, wondering if his dorm room had been cleared yet.

“Do you want to game with me?”

He was about to decline, but then he thought better of it. Attending classes was not one of the things he was tasked with when the project leaders had decided to send him to Hope’s Peak as a student. This was a perfect opportunity to test his talent against the original Ultimates. He would have something to report to the headmaster, if he wanted to.

“Sure,” he said, reluctantly.

They took turns playing the game that she had on her. Chiaki had set a good high score and it took Izuru two tries to beat, and then it took another two times to beat his own. He was surprised when Chiaki took her console back and suddenly switched it off.

“Why did you do that?”

“You aren’t enjoying yourself at all, are you?” Chiaki asked, looking at him. After they started gaming, she had moved a lot closer to him to watch the screen. “You shouldn’t force yourself to play just because I asked you. It’s okay to say no… and it isn’t much fun for me to lose from someone who looks bored.”

Izuru kept quiet.

“It’s been a while since I was here with someone,” Chiaki said. She looked at the trees opposite of the fountain, “I used to come here with… the friend I mistook you for, on your first day. We used to play games together here, and just talk. He wasn’t very good at it, but he did enjoy playing games.”

Chiaki kept reminiscing about her friendship with that boy, his past-self, even after he had stopped listening to her. She didn’t seem to mind his silence.

“I haven’t seen him in a long time…” Chiaki said, finally nearing some sort of conclusion, “I tried asking after him, but they didn’t want to say anything. I wonder…”

Izuru kept quiet.

Chiaki blinked. She looked up from her lap, and suddenly became a bit flustered, as if she just remembered whom she’d been talking with.

“Thank you for listening to all that. I’m… not really sure why I told you all of this. It’s not as if you know him. I guess you really do remind me of him in a way… even though you are really different from each other.”

She stared at the black screen of the handheld device she was holding, her grip tightening a little, almost unnoticeably. To Izuru, not a lot went unnoticed.

“I’ve never really been able to talk to anyone about this. I’m not really good at explaining myself, and I’m sure anyone else would’ve just teased me,” she trailed off, her fingers ticking against the sides of the device in her hands, “Lately, I can’t stop thinking about it. I wonder what happened to him. Is he even still a student here?”

For a moment, Izuru thought that Chiaki had finally run out of words to say on the subject. Of course, those who have trouble explaining themselves rarely run out of words to say. This conversation could take hours.

“What do you want me to say?”

She slowly averted her eyes from her lap, turning her head to look at him. He could see her hesitance, as if she was afraid that she was about to make a mistake she would not be able to undo.

“You’re… the Ultimate Hope, right? So, maybe…”

How predictable. She wanted him to give her hope. So was her simple interpretation of what his ultimate talent entailed.

He could remain quiet. She would eventually get the hint and leave. He could also choose to fulfil her expectations and offer some useless words of platitude. He knew that those were only temporary solutions at best.

He could also choose to handle this properly and put an end to the subject at hand.

“If you really want answers to your questions, go to the administration office.”

“I’ve tried. They won’t help me.”

Izuru felt a pang of irritation at the sheer predictability of it. Of course, the girl would not be able to think outside the box. He really had to spell it out for her.

“You don’t need their help,” he said, “The information you seek is there, regardless.”

“You mean…” Chiaki said slowly, a look of bewilderment spread over her face. She finally understood what he meant, “You mean… breaking in? But that’s…”

“Against the school rules,” Izuru finished the slow-witted girl’s sentence, speeding their conversation up a bit. It had continued on for long enough. “If you’re caught, you’ll be suspended for a while.”

More likely, that would depend on whether or not she’d tell the truth when she got caught. For the sake of talent, Jin Kirigiri was willing to overlook misbehaviour from his students. Junko’s presence at Hope’s Peak testified to that. Izuru estimated that the chances of Chiaki successfully breaking and entering into the reserve course administration data center were extremely unlikely. There were many more factors that weighed in on this, and if she did manage to break and enter successfully by a stroke of luck, that would just be the first of her troubles.

All things considered, Chiaki Nanami had no chance of succeeding.

Chiaki remained lost in thought for a long time. Eventually, Izuru got up from the edge of the fountain and left without saying goodbye.

Despite the cleaning staff’s work, the stink bomb’s smell hadn’t lessened at all when the evening came. The smell was so strong that many students had gotten sick from inhaling it. Eventually, it was decided that all the students whose dorms were on the affected floor were better off spending a night in the gym instead. Folding beds and sleeping wear had been provided for them. They could use the gym’s dressing rooms to change.

Izuru already wasn’t a good sleeper, and he had never shared a sleeping space with twenty adolescents before. He didn’t get a wink of sleep that night.

When he entered the classroom, he didn’t miss how pleased Hiyoko seemed to be with herself.

Some of the other students’ behaviour towards him had changed. Sonia greeted him with a forced smile. Mahiru turned her head away when she saw him and didn’t greet him at all. Ibuki spent very little time playing around with his hair that class.

Chiaki greeted him without raising her eyes from her game.

He spent most of the class staring at the window, just like he had done during every other homeroom class. Even on the school grounds nothing changed. The same students always hurried across the school grounds, late for something. The same teachers and academy personnel always lectured the same tardy students. Everyone followed their own routine, repeating the same day over and over again with very few adjustments, none of them worth mentioning, never the wiser of their own insignificance.

“Have a nice weekend, everyone!” Yukizome told the students, when class was finally over.

Just as Izuru was about to get up from his seat, Yukizome looked at him.

“If you could stay behind for a moment, Izuru.”

When Hiyoko laughed about that, Yukizome quickly reminded her not to forget about her detention that afternoon and her laugh quickly died down. After the last student had left the classroom, Yukizome walked over to him and sat down on Chiaki’s empty chair.

“Today is the last day of your first week at Hope’s Peak,” she said to him, smiling, “I just wanted to ask you about your first week as a student here. How has it been so far?”

“Fine,” he replied.

“Did you run into any problems?”

“No.”

“Are you sure about that?” Yukizome said, raising her eyebrows, “I heard that you were among the students who had to spend the night at the gym, thanks to Hiyoko’s stink bomb.”

“It was fine,” Izuru said.

“Did you get any sleep in there? You look tired.”

“Not much,” he answered honestly. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Did you get to know your fellow students for a bit? It can’t hurt to know the other students you share a floor with. You never know when you might need to borrow something!”

“No. I was tired.”

Chisa frowned.

“Mikan told me you have trouble sleeping. Was she able to help the other day?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, really? That’s great! As expected of one of my students!” Yukizome’s smile returned in full force, "Mikan did tell me she only gave a temporary solution. Did she mention you can always visit the nurse's office if anything's wrong? Mikan helps out in her spare time, but we also have fulltime, fully qualified staff working there. There is at least one staff member present at all time in the nurse's office. The head nurse may be able to help you with your insomnia, too."

Yukizome waited for him to say something.

“You really don’t like the thought of going to the nurse’s office, do you?” Yukizome asked, glancing away from his face with a frown, “I can’t force you to go, of course. But, you should know that there are options for students who are struggling with problems, no matter what kind of problem it is. And our medical staff doesn’t bite. Mikan was great, wasn’t she? She’s still an apprentice, though.”

“I’ll look into it,” Izuru lied.

“Good!” Yukizome said, “So, how are you getting along with your classmates?”

“Fine.”

Once again, Yukizome frowned. It would’ve been surprising if she had let him get away with that.

“Really?” she asked, “To me it seems there’s some tension in class. Hiyoko was pretty upset, yesterday. What happened?”

“You should ask Hiyoko.”

“I’m asking you.”

Hiyoko had refused to answer her questions, then.

“I don’t know,” he said.

She looked as if she wanted to say something, but refrained herself.

“I care about all my students, Izuru,” she said, after a short pause. She looked him in the eyes. “I want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, my door will always be open. I will never turn my back on any of my students. Just remember that.”

“Okay,” Izuru said, “Are we done?”

He felt Yukizome’s eyes burn in his back as he left the classroom.

Shortly after knocking, Chisa heard a voice from inside the room.

“Come in.”

She pushed the door open and cast a quick glance through the headmaster’s spacious office. It was empty, aside from the headmaster himself. Jin Kirigiri was behind his desk, staring down at some papers. Despite the time, he wasn’t getting ready to leave his office yet. It was possible he had forgotten the time.

“Chisa, what can I do for you?” he asked.

She’d been staring without knowing. A little embarrassed, she stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. She didn’t want anyone to overhear their conversation. She quickly made her way over to his desk.

“I have some questions about my new student, Izuru Kamukura.”

He didn’t seem surprised at all. If anything, he looked as if he had expected it.

“Is something the matter?”

“I know he’s been my student for just a couple of days, but… I don’t want to say that there’s anything wrong with him, but there is something… off. I’m worried about him,” she hesitated for a bit, “You don’t look surprised, though.”

“I’m not,” Jin replied evenly. He leaned forwards in his chair, folding his hands. “I had hoped that it wouldn’t be necessary for us to have this conversation, but I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Why not?” Chisa asked, puzzled.

“I know Izuru’s parents well. I can imagine why you would be worried.”

“You can?” Chisa asked, surprised, “Why?”

“His parents worry, too. That’s why they sent him here.”

“What?”

“You didn’t recognize his name?” Jin asked. Chisa stared at him, confused. Jin pointed towards one of the paintings in his office, “Izuru Kamukura and the founder of Hope’s Peak Academy. You would’ve recognized that name if you hadn’t skipped all those history classes.”

Chisa was too focussed on the painting to her right, under which a little gold-coloured placard hung, to pay any attention to Jin’s comment. The aged man from the painting stared back at her, his face proud.

“Izuru Kamukura founded this academy to create a place where personal talent could flourish freely, wishing to inspire great hope in everyone who was witness to the accumulated talent. Your student was named after his great-grandfather. Izuru’s parents are very keen on their privacy and they asked me not to bring Izuru’s background up if it could be avoided.”

“Why would they do that?”

“My guess is that they just want Izuru to fit in. Izuru didn’t just inherit his name from his grandfather. You must have wondered about Izuru’s Ultimate title. Izuru was named the Ultimate Hope because he embodies his grandfather’s ideals: he is accumulated talent.”

“Accumulated talent?” Chisa repeated, “You mean he has more than one talent? How many talents does he have?”

“We don’t know how many, exactly,” Jin replied, looking her in the eyes, “We tried to determine how many when his parents enrolled him, but… Izuru isn’t always cooperative.”

Chisa blinked a couple of times, trying to process the information of one student having that many talents. There were other students who had multiple talents, but this sounded out of the ordinary—it sounded bizarre.

“Why… why did his parents send him here?”

“Izuru and his parents discovered his many talents while he was growing up, one at a time. He was talented at anything he gave a try. He understood everything with ease. He remembered everything in detail. He can analyse complicated situation in seconds, he can predict accurately what will happen based on facts,” Jin studied her reaction, “Frankly, Izuru is bored. His parents sent him here in hopes that he will finally find something to stimulate him, something that will rouse his interest. He has never before attended a school. He doesn’t have much experience socializing with peers. We hope that other Ultimates will be able to provide him with what he needs.”

“I can barely get him to get out of his room.”

The words slipped out of Chisa’s mouth before she could stop them.

“That’s exactly why his parents send him here. He has so much talent. It would be a loss if it all went to waste.”

“Why did I have to come here to hear this?” Chisa asked, suddenly feeling a flare of irritation, “Why didn’t you tell me immediately? Why didn’t you tell me when I asked you the reason for his Ultimate title?”

“His parents asked me not to,” Jin answered, evenly as always, “They didn’t want anyone—not even his teacher—to perceive him with any preconceptions.”

“Do you really think I’d treat him differently because of his family or because of his talents?” Chisa asked, feeling another flare of irritation, “He’s still one of my students, and none of my students get to skip my class!”

Chisa’s mind was still reeling—but in a better way than before. She felt she could work with this. Her conversation with Jin made her feel she understood her newest student a bit better—and that she’d be able to get a better understanding of him in the future. She felt that it would be hard to motivate someone like Izuru, but she wouldn’t be Chisa if she didn’t at least try.

She missed the hint of a smile around Jin’s lips.

If Peko had been surprised to hear Chiaki’s voice, then she had already masked her surprise by the time Chiaki had slid the door shut behind her. She felt nervous. She’d actually inspected the rest of the hall to see if there were any other people around, but it seemed like just Peko was making use of the practice rooms at the moment.

Still, it didn’t help to make her feel better. She felt she was doing something wrong.

“Is something the matter?” Peko asked, lowering her practice sword.

“Not really,” Chiaki lied, doing her best to come across as natural as possible. “There was something I wanted to ask you about… I was wondering, what is the best way to break into a room?”

Peko slightly raised her eyebrows.

“That depends on the room and security. Is there any reason you’re asking this?”

“It’s for a game. It’s… really realistic.”

Peko seemed as if she was about to say something, but then changed her mind.

“Tell me more about this game.”

It was easier to explain this way. Chiaki even had to admit that it sounded like a compelling game, but unfortunately the mystery she was trying to solve wasn’t just the plot to a mystery game. This was about Hajime, the first person to ever become her friend, even before she had befriended any of her classmates. Peko asked her some questions about security, but Chiaki knew next to nothing. All she knew was at what time personnel locked the building, and what staff members were prone to working over-time and on what days.

She’d spent a lot of time waiting outside that building but knew almost nothing about the inside. All she knew was that the staff really didn’t like main course students walking about.

“If it is the Reserve Course building you are talking about, I have some ideas.”

“No, no!” Chiaki protested in a hurry, feeling her face heat up. “I am just talking about a game, honestly!”

Chiaki was startled when she heard the sliding door behind her open. She noticed that Peko didn’t seem surprised at all. Chiaki quickly turned her head, and saw Ibuki in the doorway. Her colourful classmate shook her head while sporting a cocky grin.

“Chiaki, you really have to try better than that! Ibuki could hear your lies all the way from outside.”

Chiaki desperately tried to come up with words to say.

“Ibuki had been wondering why you spent so much time around the Reserve Course building. One mystery solved, and another one to go! Let’s find out what happened to your friend!”

“It’s… a game.” Chiaki tried, one last time.

“If it’s truly a game, then let’s play it together,” Peko suggested.

“It’s a one-player game.”

“Then we’ll watch.”

Chiaki remained quiet, her mind reeling.

“Come on,” Ibuki said, “We’re your friends. Let us help.”

Chapter Text

The lingering smell of Hiyoko’s stink bomb still managed to make some people ill, even after the cleaning staff had spent almost an entire day trying to get rid of the smell. For that reason, the third floor’s occupants were told to spend yet another night in the gym.

It was another sleepless night for Izuru.

The other students were noisy, even those who were sleeping. It was early when he decided to leave the gym for breakfast. Most of the other students in the gym were still sleeping. As he rounded the corner to the cafeteria’s entrance, he came face to face with Mahiru Koizumi.

“Good morning,” she said, after recovering from her surprise. “Are you getting breakfast too?” She hesitated, “You know, we haven’t really had a chance to speak yet. So, why don’t we eat together?”

She started to walk alongside him as if he had agreed to her proposal.

The cafeteria was mostly empty. There were only a few students sitting together in small groups and a few were sitting by themselves. From the way she was acting, Izuru knew that Mahiru’s invitation had not been without reason.

After they both had chosen something to eat, Mahiru guided him somewhat forcibly towards a table where two of their classmates were already eating. Judging by the amount of plates on the table, Akane Owari and Ryouta Mitarai must’ve been at it for a while.

“Don’t chew with your mouth open, Akane!” Mahiru admonished as she set down her food tray on the table with more force than needed.

Akane answered something unintelligible in return.

“That means talking too, Akane. Geez, honestly,” Mahiru looked away and turned her attention to Ryouta, who was eating away just as eagerly. “Didn’t you promise Miss Yukizome to cut back on the meat?”

“We agreed it would be better if I slowly cut down on my portions.”

Mahiru looked incredulously at Ryouta’s full plate, but refrained from commenting. She looked at Izuru with a frown.

“Well, aren’t you going to sit down?”

Both Akane and Ryouta noticed him only then. Ryouta recovered quickly and greeted him. Akane greeted him with a wide smile which caused a bit of food to drop back onto her plate. Mahiru made a disgusted sound and looked away.

Izuru sat down at the table, wondering when he would be allowed to return to his dorm again.

He quickly realized that whatever Mahiru wanted from him, she wasn’t going to ask it with their classmates present. His thoughts quickly drifted from their conversations, because the other students were not saying anything worth listening to.

His eyes wandered towards the entrance of the cafeteria. Among one of the groups that entered, he caught sight of a familiar face.

Mukuro Ikusaba recognized him too, judging by her wide eyes and the small falter in her step. She recovered quickly, throwing him a nearly indiscernible look, warning him not to get near. She quickly fell a bit behind the group she was with—none of her companions seemed to notice her behaviour. Mukuro Ikusaba’s attempt to distract his attention did nothing but guide his attention. He did not see what was special about the short, spiky-haired boy Mukuro had quickly stepped away from.

He watched Mukuro’s group as they got their breakfast at the buffet and sat down somewhere. Mukuro deliberately chose a spot at the table from where she could keep an eye on Izuru.

Izuru looked at the other students at her table, just to see who she had chosen over her sister. Out of Mukuro’s group, he recognized two other students. One was the red-eyed boy who’d been in charge of making sure that only cleaning staff got entry to the third floor’s dormitories.

He recognized the other student from the picture on the headmaster’s desk. On the picture she’d been a child and she’d laughed as the headmaster held her up in the air. There was a not a trace left of that carefree smile.

The headmaster’s daughter followed Mukuro’s tense gaze until she was staring at Izuru directly. Her expression was just as carefully blank as her father’s.

“Oi, Itsuki!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Akane’s hand was coming towards his shoulder and he turned to look at her. She gestured towards his plate with a hungry look.

“Aren’t you going to eat that?”

“Akane!” Mahiru said, scandalized, “Honestly, it’s like you were raised by wolves!”

When he looked back, the headmaster’s daughter didn’t look in his direction anymore, but Mukuro’s gaze had never wavered from him.

It wasn’t a coincidence that Mahiru finished her food at the same time as him a while later. She’d deliberately matched his pace. When he got up from the table, she excused herself too and followed him outside of the cafeteria. Out of earshot of their classmates, she finally came to business and asked if they could talk somewhere private. Izuru knew it would be better to let her get it over with. It wasn’t as if he had a place to go to at that moment.

He followed her into an empty classroom. Mahiru closed the door behind them and fiddled around with the clasp of her camera, unable to hide her uneasiness.

“You’re probably wondering why I wanted to talk to you,” she started. “It’s a bit sensitive, so that’s why I brought you here to talk. So don’t get any weird ideas!”

She shot him a warning look. Izuru just waited for her to continue. His lack of reaction seemed to both reassure her and embarrass her. She averted her eyes from him and chose to look at the blackboard instead.

“Anyway, I guess I just wanted to… apologize for last week. I don’t think we’ve been as hospitable to you as we could. Our class, I mean. Not that you’re making things easy on anyone, you know…” Mahiru caught herself in time, before her talk turned into a lecture. She scratched her cheek and her expression turned troubled. “You haven’t really talked to anyone in our class, but then… there are people who say they saw you together with Junko. And really, it’s none of my business, I know… but, you’re new here and I feel it wouldn’t be fair if you just… didn’t know about her.”

Mahiru’s actions were predictable and in line with her protective nature. She assumed he didn’t know about Junko Enoshima’s reputation and that he was unaware that some sort of event had taken place a year earlier. She felt it was her responsibility to inform him.

She assumed he cared.

It was clear from her hesitant story that Mahiru had not witnessed anything personally. She didn’t tell him anything he hadn’t yet already figured out himself. His thoughts strayed, and he was once again wondering when he’d be able to return to his dorm again, so he could avoid having these irrelevant conversations.

“Izuru?”

When he looked at the girl, her expression considerably darkened.

“Are you even listening?” she asked, her eyebrows scrunched together, staring intensely at him as if she was trying to figure him out, “I just told you that Junko hurt some of our classmates, and you… just… you’re not listening.”

She waited for him to respond, but he remained quiet.

“You don’t even care about Mikan?” Mahiru said, raising her voice, “She looked after you when you were ill last week! She even went to your room to bring you meals, twice! You don’t even care what Junko did to her?”

Even if he chose to lie, she still wouldn’t take his word for it, not after she’d noticed his boredom. Besides, there was no reason to pretend he cared. It would just encourage her to keep the conversation going.

She looked at him with growing disbelief.

“Hiyoko is right. There is something wrong with you.”

It had taken her and the cleaning staff all morning, but they’d finally managed to get rid of the smell left by Hiyoko’s stink bomb. Given their difficulties with removing the smell, the cleanings staff had eventually asked for Chisa’s assistance. After all of her hard work, she was ready for a well-deserved break. A smile worked its way on her face as she saw that Juzo was already waiting for her by the main gate, visibly impatient.

“Ready for our brunch date?” she asked, when she was within his earshot.

“Stop calling it that.”

“But it’s too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. What else should we call it?”

“Brunch does not exist,” Juzo insisted, “We’ve talked about this before. You’re already giving me a headache.”

“You haven’t even properly greeted me yet.”

Bickering all the way, they left the school grounds and made their way towards their regular café, where they would meet every other week. It wasn’t to simply catch up; it was so that they would be able to talk business freely. At the academy they were at risk of being overheard. They couldn’t even be completely sure that their phones were safe, even if it was just because a bored student may have the talent to discover what they were doing by accident.

The café’s owner was a friend of Kyousuke’s and he always made sure that they got a table where they’d be able to speak freely. This time, he gestured for them to go to the second floor. Only a few tables were occupied. Chisa and Juzo sat down at the table that was furthest from the stairs and the other customers.

They had a perfect view of Hope’s Peak. Chisa couldn’t help but stare at the academy. So much had changed since she had attended Hope’s Peak as a student herself and so much time had passed. So much time had been wasted.

She cast a look at Juzo. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, staring at the academy.

“Did you find out anything?” she asked him.

He shook his head.

It had been like this for many months. None of their clues ever led somewhere worthwhile. Occasionally, they would find something and cling onto it as if it was a lifeline—only to arrive at yet another dead end. For Juzo it was even more frustrating than for her—after all, he’d started his investigation a year earlier than her.

The owner came and handed them their usual order, exchanging basic pleasantries.

Chisa wanted to think that they were hitting a stumbling block again, but the truth was that they were hitting that annoying block still. From Juzo’s tense shoulders, she could tell she wasn’t the only one growing increasingly frustrated.

“Is something bothering you?”

“I think we’re looking in the wrong place,” Juzo said, after a short hesitation. His permanent frown deepened even more. “We’ve been investigating for a while now. I honestly can’t think of any place we haven’t already looked. Whatever they are doing with all that money from the Reserve Course, I don’t think we’ll find the answer at Hope’s Peak itself. Maybe the answers were never here. If they ever were, I think they’re gone now.”

Juzo had been frustrated with their investigation before, but this time it was different. Chisa could see it in his face and in his slumped shoulders. Her heartbeat quickened.

“Are you giving up?”

“Maybe we should just admit to ourselves that Hope’s Peak was never the right place to look for information. Maybe hiding in plain sight really was too obvious, and we only wasted a lot of time here running around in circles.”

“Is that what you really think?”

Juzo grimaced.

“Don’t look at me like that. This is not a decision I took lightly. I’ve thought about this for a while now.”

“Decision?” she repeated, alarmed.

Juzo nodded solemnly. “I wanted to tell you first. I’m going to call Kyousuke. If he agrees, then I’m going to hand my resignation to Kirigiri next week.”

“The investigation isn’t over yet.”

“I told you not to get attached to those brats,” Juzo said, shaking his head. He’d said those words before, more times than she cared to admit, but never as resigned as he did now. That small gesture was evidence of how heavy their lack of progress weighed down on her friend.

“I never thought I’d see the day that you would not jump at the chance to see Kyousuke.”

His words startled her.

“That I’m leaving doesn’t mean you need to leave, too,” Juzo continued, pretending not to notice her silence, “You can take care of yourself without me, more or less. If you want to stay, I’ll have your back. I think Kyousuke would agree that it can’t hurt to have at least one trusted insider at the academy.”

Chisa wanted to protest. She wanted Juzo to stay—but she could tell that the investigation was weighing down on him and that it had been for a while. He was right about many things, too. The last time they’d pursued a clue had been at least six months ago. She’d gotten distracted from their investigation. After what had happened last year, she’d come to realize how much her actions—or inactions—affected her students’ lives. She’d gotten attached.

She really didn’t want to leave Hope’s Peak yet.

“This is the place, Juzo. This is where we’ll find that one clue we need.”

“After that whole debacle with that fashionista girl last year they really tightened security. They either destroyed or moved anything even slightly incriminating.”

“If there’s a clue here, I’ll find it.”

The two stared at each other. Juzo just looked so tired. His shoulders slumped and he let out a heavy sigh.

“Just don’t do anything stupid and reckless when I’m not around to save your ass.”

“You know me, Juzo.”

“That’s exactly why I said it.”

It was easy to get into Mukuro’s dorm unseen.

Izuru knew where the dormitories were located inside the school, and it hadn’t taken long to find the dorms of the second year’s students. For some reason, someone had decided to decorate each door of this floor’s dormitories with portraits of the student to whom they belonged to, so there hadn’t even been in a challenge in trying to figure out which one of them belonged to Mukuro either.

Mukuro was not in her dorm when he entered. He studied his surroundings. Mukuro was probably the more organized out of the two sisters, and it made it easier to notice when something was out of place.

Most obvious were the hidden weapons lying around her room. Some of them were nothing more than some common but well-placed household items. However, Mukuro wouldn’t be the Ultimate Soldier if she hadn’t at least smuggled a few real weapons into her room.

What stood out from the rest were the pictures he found in her room. Mukuro was hardly the sentimental type, yet her classmates featured her room prominently in the pictures. She had a lot of pictures of her classmates around her desk. There was a kitten hairclip on the ground next to her bed. A golden sculpture stood out on one of the cabinet shelves. It seemed to resemble an abstract airplane, or perhaps a spacecraft. It didn’t look like anything Mukuro would buy for herself.

There were some things too, but his eyes were drawn towards the pictures again. Most of them featured Mukuro in some way. The pictures told a story of their own. Junko’s absence in the pictures was apparent, but there was someone else missing too.

On the other side of the room, the door opened.

Mukuro wasn’t surprised to see him at all. She looked as if she had expected him. Nevertheless, she entered the room and quietly closed the door behind her. This was not the same girl as a year ago. She was standing firmly on her own and there wasn’t a trace of despair left in her eyes. She looked at him cautiously.

“You’re not here to kill me,” she concluded.

“No.”

“Then why are you here?”

“You’re no longer on the side of despair.”

“Is that why you’re here? You want to know why I betrayed her? Did she send you?”

He didn’t answer her questions.

He was reminded why Junko had always done the talking for the two sisters.

“You’re the same as back then,” she said, not taking her eyes off of him. She didn’t stray from her door, either. Despite how tense she looked, she still talked. “I didn’t betray Junko, if that’s what you’re thinking. I did it for her—to protect her. She is my sister and I love her more than anything, but she is… disturbed. I need to protect her… even from herself. Even if she ends up hating me.”

If that was all there was to it, then it may have been a slightly interesting turn of events. Due to her sister’s influence, Mukuro had been completely co-dependent of Junko for most of her life. For Mukuro to break out of that psychological cycle on her own… that would’ve been slightly more interesting than the truth he’d already gathered.

The real reason for her change of heart was predictable and dull.

He’d known it ever since he had seen Mukuro’s reaction to him in the cafeteria, ever since she’d hurriedly moved as far away as possible from the short, brown-haired boy in the group. It was the same in her room. There were a lot of pictures of herself with her classmates, but if you knew where to look it was obvious that she’d left out one of her classmates on purpose.

The truth was that Junko had lost her greatest ally to hormones. Mukuro had not found the strength to stand on her own two feet, she’d simply found someone else to lean on.

He had known already, so why had he bothered coming here?

It had no use to bring up her classmate. Mukuro would think it was a threat, even if he was simply stating the facts. The truth of the matter was that he just didn’t care.

“Despair won’t make anyone happy, not even my sister. She just can’t see it yet. Until she does, I will protect her against the world… but I’ll also protect the world from her.”

“You should know better than anyone that Junko doesn’t want happiness.”

“I think I know her and despair better than you do,” Mukuro said, sharply, “It’s happiness she truly wants, even if she doesn’t realize it herself.”

Mukuro was wrong about many things as usual. She was unable to truly cut ties with her sister and now she was defending her own actions in the most hare-brained ways. Mukuro knew her own sister best and she should be more than aware that her own words were nothing more than lies she told herself.

Junko would only be happy after she’d made the rest of the world experience the same despair as her. She would kill her own sister to feel more despair—but she would not kill Mukuro in the state she was in now. At this moment, Mukuro wasn’t in much danger from her sister. There was no doubt that Junko would rather have her sister in despair before killing her. The one who was truly in danger was the boy Mukuro liked.

Mukuro was protecting her classmate and herself, not Junko’s future happiness.

There was no use arguing. He’d already gotten the answer he’d been looking for. It wasn’t the answer he’d wanted, but it was the answer he’d expected.

She tensed up visibly when he walked towards her side of the room and just as he was about to open the door to the hallway, she suddenly blocked the way to her door. She put on a brave face, but he could tell she was nervous.

“I don’t know why you’re here at Hope’s Peak… but I do know that Junko’s been expecting your arrival for a while. She’ll have a plan ready, and… if you allow her to manipulate you, I’ll stop you both.”

It wasn’t worth the effort to respond to her empty threat. He pushed past her and entered the hallway, incapable of ignoring the bitter disappointment the conversation had left him with.

It took a while for Chisa to recognize the sound of her own ringtone. She blinked and her eyes adjusted to the dark slowly. She realized that it was still night. It helped to jolt her awake. In her haste to get her cell phone, she knocked it off of her nightstand. She hurriedly grabbed the cell phone from the floor and immediately recognized the name on the display. Her heart quickened.

“Juzo?”

“This is the third time I tried calling you! What the hell were you doing?”

She felt her body relax a little. Just by Juzo’s tone of voice, she could tell that he wasn’t in any immediate danger. She gave a sideway glance towards the display on her alarm clock.

“I was sleeping. Why are you calling me at this hour, Juzo?”

“A colleague of mine caught three students breaking into the Reserve Course building tonight.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Chisa said, scratching her arm.

“They’re your students,” he said, accusingly.

“What?” Chisa blinked. For a moment, she thought she’d misheard. “Are you sure?”

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be calling you.”

“Who?”

“Chiaki Nanami, Peko Pekoyama and Ibuki Mioda.”

There was no mistaking it—those were her students. Chisa’s phone almost slipped through her fingers, but she caught it in time. Why would those three break into the Reserve Course building in the middle of the night? Out of all three of them, she could only see Ibuki doing something like that for the fun of it.

“Ring any bells?”

“Yes! What were they doing there? What did you do, Juzo? Did you call anyone else besides me?”

“No. You’re the first one I called.”

Her shoulders drooped in relief. Juzo broke protocol by choosing not to inform the headmaster first. She wasn’t sure if he’d done it because students from her class were involved or because he was planning to resign either way.

“Thanks so much, Juzo! I’ll be there in a few minutes!”

She hung up the phone before he could respond. Before she knew it, she’d already changed and was on her way to the security building in the cold of the night. After entering the building, a colleague of Juzo immediately pointed her to the right room.

She opened the door without knocking. All the occupants in the room, with the exception of Chiaki, looked up to see who’d entered the room. Juzo had them all seated at the same table. For a moment, Chisa could’ve sworn that there was actual relief on Juzo’s face. He immediately got up from his own chair and walked past her.

“They’re all yours,” he said, slamming the door shut behind him.

Chisa turned her attention towards her three students. Ibuki was laughing nervously, awkwardly rubbing the back of her head. Peko sat up straight in her chair, her face betraying none of her thoughts. Chiaki avoided her gaze and stared at her lap instead. Chisa didn’t say anything, but sat down on the chair opposite of them.

“What happened?”

Ibuki and Peko shared a look with each other. Chiaki finally looked up.

“Ibuki and Peko aren’t to blame... They only wanted to help me, so please don’t punish them.”

“You asked us not to get involved,” Peko interjected, “We chose to help you, despite that. It’s our own responsibility that we’re here.”

“Hm, Ibuki agrees,” Ibuki said, nodding her head. She tried to sound confident, but her eyebrows twitched nervously, “We helped Chiaki for a good cause—and because she’s our friend, of course. We had this all planned out, so… why didn’t it work?!” Ibuki finally lost her cool. She grabbed onto Peko’s arm and shook it violently. “What went wrong?! We were never supposed to get caught!”

“Calm down,” Peko said, as she tried to push Ibuki away.

“What do you mean, a good cause?” Chisa asked.

“Well, we wouldn’t do something like this without a good reason, right? I mean, you know us, right? We really had the best intentions, Ibuki swears!”

“Just tell me why you broke into the Reserve Course.”

The three girls exchanged looks.

“You should tell her,” Peko said to Chiaki.

“Chiaki?” Chisa pressed.

“I was looking for someone,” the girl admitted, averting her eyes.

“A friend,” Ibuki added cheekily, making air quotes.

Peko shot her a disapproving look.

“It’s been a very long time since I last saw him. I think he’s no longer a student here, so I guess I… I just wanted to make sure.”

“You broke into the Reserve Course building to make sure?”

“We had no other choice,” Ibuki said, “At the administration office they turn you away once they find out you’re a Main Course student. I don’t get how they see it!”

Ibuki didn’t seem to be aware of the stricter dress code for Reserve Course students. Even in her own class Ibuki stood out.

“It has to do with the privacy policy,” Peko added, “They don’t give information about students away freely.”

“Didn’t you try to look him up on social media?”

“I did,” Chiaki said.

“Ibuki too! I even asked Chihiro for help!” Ibuki added, a frown forming on her face, “Even he couldn’t find anything on social media. So, we decided to try to hack the school’s database but Chihiro had to stop because… well, the security was really tight. I figured he’d get into more trouble for hacking into the school’s database than we’d get for breaking into the administration room… so we called it off.”

Both Chiaki and Peko stared at Ibuki with wide eyes, completely taken by surprise.

“When did you ask Chihiro to do that?” Chiaki asked.

“Last night,” Ibuki answered, putting her fingers together and smiling awkwardly, “I was kind of touched by your story. So, Ibuki tried to look Hajime up on social media too, but you’re right, Chiaki. The results to his name are endless! So, I asked Chihiro to help me, but even he couldn’t find anything.”

The security of Hope’s Peak had gotten ridiculously tight after last year’s incident. Considering the role the Ultimate Programmer had played in it, Chisa supposed it wasn’t that strange for Hope’s Peak to increase their security to a point that even Chihiro had trouble hacking it.

“Did you try putting a message on the bulletin board?”

“We aren’t allowed in the Reserve Course building.”

“Did you try? I’m sure no one will stop you from putting a message on the bulletin board. It’s near the main entrance.”

“Maybe… we didn’t think of that,” Chiaki admitted.

“You would have, if you’d come to me sooner! Honestly, how many times do I have to repeat myself to you guys? If there’s something on your mind, don’t be afraid to come to me! If you’re considering doing something that could possibly get you suspended—then you should definitely come to me first! After all this time, you still behave like a bunch of rotten oranges!” She looked at them sternly. Upon seeing her students’ guilty faces, she let out a sigh. “We’ve already been through a lot together, haven’t we? I feel a little hurt, to be honest. I guess you still don’t trust me.”

Chisa pretended to look sad. Ibuki jumped up from her seat, alarmed.

“Two weeks’ detention,” she said, taking Ibuki by surprise, “Hiyoko might appreciate the company. Ibuki, you get three weeks.”

“What?! Why?”

“For attempting to hack the school’s database, of course. You didn’t think I was going to let that slide, did you?” Chisa shook her head at her students. “Now get to your dorms.”

Peko and Chiaki didn’t complain about their punishment, and Ibuki’s protests were half-hearted. Her students knew full well that their punishments could’ve been a lot worse.

It was Izuru’s second time in the headmaster’s office.

There was something about the wide, brightly lit space that didn’t sit well with him. Perhaps it was the flagrant display of trophies and awards on the one side of the office. Maybe it had to do with the bookcase on the other side of the office which was filled with renowned research from Hope’s Peak’s own graduates. There was a possibility that the portraits of all Hope’s Peak’s former headmasters were the source for his dislike, or perhaps it how the headmaster had wanted to create an mood by placing two big sofas in the room.

Perhaps the reason was as simple as the presence of the headmaster himself.

“You must have been busy to forget about our appointment today,” Jin Kirigiri said.

Both he and the headmaster knew that he had neither been busy nor that he had forgotten about their appointment. He’d simply not bothered to come. The headmaster had predictably sent someone to his dorm to retrieve him.

“You don’t look very well,” Jin Kirigiri commented, studying his face after Izuru had purposely ignored his efforts to get him to talk, “Maybe you should go to the nurse’s office? You could compare her talent to yours, while you’re at it,” he continued, when Izuru didn’t respond, “Am I right in assuming you haven’t made any progress yet regarding that?”

Jin interpreted his silence as a confirmation.

“I don’t need to remind you of the reason of this appointment. If you want to stay here, you need to keep to your part of the agreement. There are more than enough opportunities here for you to compare your talent.”

Izuru had never agreed to anything, but he knew that meant nothing to Jin Kirigiri.

“There is also something else I wanted to talk to you about. Miss Yukizome came to talk about you two days ago. Your behaviour worries her. I’ve told her of your background. If she starts questioning you directly, do not contradict the story,” Jin gave him a look, “It would be best if you tried harder to fit in. Miss Yukizome told me she has trouble getting you to even leave your dorm.”

Jin Kirigiri had trained to keep his face as neutral as possible at all times. It had become like a second nature to the man. He only looked visibly disappointed because he wanted to.

“Some people stuck their necks out to give you this chance. There were some who didn’t want to give you this chance at all. It would be best for you to make use of the time you’ve been given. There are three weeks left. This is your last chance.”

The headmaster paused briefly, as if to give him time to let the words fully sink in.

“Do you have any questions, Izuru?”

“Are you done?”

The headmaster let him go, his expression unreadable.

Wrapped up entirely in her blanket, Chiaki sat on her bed. Her fingers were responding to what she saw on her television screen. She was dodging, attacking, dodging some more, waiting for her combat multiplier to be high enough to unleash a power attack. She wasn’t at her best. She was distracted. Some of her combos failed. Her eyes were glued to the screen, the only source of light in her room at that moment.

Until someone turned the light on.

At the insistence of her friends, she’d stopped locking her door if she was gaming. Especially Sonia and Mikan kept worrying about her skipping meals and her inability to answer the door when she was really immersed into a game, so she had agreed to compromise with them.

Slightly disappointed, Chiaki paused the game to see who had entered her room.

Mikan entered her room, carrying a paper bag with her.

Chiaki’s eyes darted towards her clock. After returning to her dorm last night, she’d started a game and she’d been playing it ever since. It was already in the afternoon.

Despite Chiaki’s room being a complete mess, Mikan managed to get through it without hurting herself on most occasions. Chiaki had never really noticed that peculiarity until Ibuki pointed it out to her.

“I, um, brought you something to eat,” Mikan said, handing her the paper bag.

“Thank you, Mikan. I must have forgotten the time again… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me!” Mikan insisted immediately. “My room is next to yours. I-I don’t mind bringing some food over from the cafeteria, honestly!”

“I’m sorry for making you worry,” Chiaki clarified, tearing into the paper bag so that she could use it as a place mat, “I really should’ve set an alarm. I guess I forgot.”

“I-I don’t mind being worried,” Mikan said, although her demeanour told another story, “It’s my job as nurse to worry over others. It’s not a big deal, at all.”

Chiaki didn’t immediately reply to that. Another apology might possibly overwhelm Mikan, so instead she took her time to see what Mikan had brought her. Mikan remained standing awkwardly, and Chiaki suddenly realized that she had not just come to bring her food. Despite the fact that they’d known each other for over two years, and had been friends for at least one year, Mikan still waited for permission to sit down or another confirmation that her presence wasn’t unwanted. Chiaki gestured for her friend to sit down. Just as Chiaki took her first bite, Mikan had finally gathered enough courage to say what was on her mind.

“You can tell me what’s wrong, Chiaki.”

Chiaki looked up to Mikan with surprise, and it startled the fidgety girl.

“I mean, we’re f-friends, right? I thought we were? Unless we’re not? Then I’m really, r-really sorry for this s-sudden intrusion! Really, I’m so sorry! I’ll go immediately! Please don’t hate me!”

Mikan was already halfway to the door, before Chiaki even had the chance to answer her.

“Wait! Of course, we’re friends! You can ask me anything you want to.”

“R-Really?” Mikan said. Hesitantly, she returned back to Chiaki’s bed and sat down on it again. She was trembling a little. “Then… what is wrong? You haven’t missed meals in a while.”

“I simply forgot, I think.”

“But… you’ve been really absent-minded this past week, and… I walked into Ibuki earlier and she said that you and Peko and her have d-detention?” Mikan said, almost disbelievingly, “W-What happened?”

“Didn’t Ibuki tell you?”

“No, she ran away…”

Chiaki was surprised that Ibuki hadn’t taken the chance to tell Mikan about Hajime, but she was grateful at the same time. She didn’t want everyone to know. If more of her classmates got involved, it would be a matter of time before things got out of hand.

She still wasn’t sure why she hadn’t heard from him in so long. If he was still a student at Hope’s Peak, that meant he’d been avoiding her on purpose. It meant that while she considered him as her first friend, he obviously hadn’t felt the same about her. That’s what she’d thought for a very long time. They’d always done the same thing, just playing games by the fountain. He must’ve gotten bored of her. She was hardly an interesting person.

But, for some reason, she was no longer able to supress the other thought that had floated around in her head from time to time. It was a thought that had plagued her a lot, especially just after Hajime had stopped meeting her without any warning.

Maybe it was more a feeling than anything else, the feeling that there was something wrong.

In all honesty, she preferred to think he had grown bored of her.

With Miss Yukizome’s help, maybe she would finally be able to get answers, but there was no reason to involve Mikan. The sensitive girl would just needlessly worry.

“It’s not important. You don’t have to worry about us, Mikan.”

“W-Well… It’s you I’m worried about, m-mostly. You’ve been acting strangely, lately and… there’s something you’re not telling.”

“It’s nothing, Mikan.”

Chiaki felt bad for not telling Mikan the truth, especially when Mikan went through so much trouble to ask her. Chiaki knew how quickly the girl felt as if she was imposing, so this was an incredible feat for the nurse. She almost expected Mikan to start crying and run off, apologizing all the way back to her own dorm—but her friend surprised her.

“You’re… you’re not s-saying this because you think I can’t handle it, right? You have been t-there for me when I needed it—and I want to be t-there for you, too.”

“Thank you,” Chiaki said, touched, “but you are here for me, already.”

“Still,” Mikan said, smiling in a resigned way, “you know where you can find me.”

Izuru knew someone was inside of his dorm before he had even touched his door. He knew who it was, before he saw Junko Enoshima sitting at his desk, reading the book Chisa Yukizome had given him on his first day. She was sitting sideways on his chair, her legs resting on his bed. It had only been a matter of time before she discovered where his dorm was.

“Took you long enough,” she said, tossing the book carelessly to the side. It fell on the floor. “Your room is so boring that I had to resort to reading that crap.”

He wondered how long she had waited for him to get out of his dorm so she could sneak in.

“Are you not even a bit surprised?” She looked at him mockingly. “How boring.”

“Why are you here?”

“After everything I’ve heard, how could you not expect me to?” Junko said, feigning sympathy, “Rumour has it that you’re not taking good care of yourself and you’re hanging with the wrong crowd… Did you consider my feelings at all when you visited that fat, dumb, ugly before me? Of course, you didn’t. You’re always so cruel to me, for no reason at all.”

“Go away. You’re boring.”

“I can’t go away yet,” She shook her head, “I’m here because I’m worried about you—you’re skipping meals, not sleeping well, keeping to your dorm… and you went to fat dumb ugly without being forced—if that isn’t a sign of early dementia, then what is? But the truth is, I came because I care for you. I mean, someone has to. You’re not making any friends with that winning personality of yours.”

Izuru ignored Junko’s presence and sat down on his bed, waiting for her to leave and drowning out most of her words.

“So rude!” she said, shaking her head, “Ugh, I can’t stand the sight of your bored face! You can’t even pretend to be a little affected? You’re not even listening to me, are you? Really, I should be mad, but… I guess you can’t help it. Man, they fucked you up badly. I feel like I’m watching someone who’s given up, but I cannot accept that! Giving up is not enough. That’s not proper despair.”

A smile spread across her face.

“For the Ultimate Hope nothing less than true, soul wrenching, gut-wringing, top-notch quality despair would suffice. Don’t you agree?”

She had yet to say something worth responding to. She stayed for a while, filling his dorm with one continuous stream of words during her visit, yet nothing of substance came out of her mouth. To respond to her would be to encourage her, so he just waited her visit out, drowning out the sound of her voice.

Whatever plan Junko Enoshima had cooked up, he would not participate in it—unless something happened that he could not foresee.

He doubted it.

It almost felt as if she had allowed her guard down for just a few seconds, and suddenly problems had stockpiled out of nowhere.

Chisa sat behind her desk, staring down at the papers in front of her. Her mind was elsewhere.

There was the matter of Juzo giving up on their investigation—at Hope’s Peak, at least. He was going to continue their investigation elsewhere. Juzo had talked to Kyousuke about his decision—and he was going to hand in his resignation to the headmaster first thing next week. He would spend his last week making sure that that he left no trail that could implicate either himself, Kyousuke or Chisa. She was going to stay at the academy by herself, even though she was finding it increasingly more difficult to justify her actions in the name of the investigation.

It wasn’t the first time she threw a restless glance at her phone.

Nagito still hadn’t returned to the academy, despite that the school year had started a couple of weeks ago. His phone was dead and he didn’t respond to any of her emails. She worried about all of her students, but she had to admit that she worried for some more than others.

In Nagito’s absence, Izuru had taken the role of the student she worried about most. She cast a glance at the papers in front of her, still a little baffled whenever she saw Izuru’s near-perfect handwriting. She’d asked her students to perform a couple of simple assignments—and she’d snuck in something different for her newest student to get a better grasp of his abilities.

Jin had been right. Izuru had gotten every single answer right and he’d answered well within the estimated time limit for the test. The remainder of the class, he’d just stared outside listlessly.

It had not just been an ordinary test. He definitely shouldn’t have been able to complete it that quickly and without any mistakes…

It was not going to be an easy task to get through to him, that much she could tell.

For some reason, she felt as if she only had a limited amount of time to do so. Perhaps it was thanks to Izuru’s own standoffish behaviour that she couldn’t shake of this nagging feeling that he was just passing through.

Then, aside from the usual troubles and Juzo, there was also the matter of Chiaki, Peko and Ibuki. The more she thought about it, the stranger her students’ actions seemed. If she dismissed Chiaki’s gaming habits and sleeping in class, the girl was nearly a model student. Peko was quiet, but usually responsible and sensible. She could see Ibuki coming up with a plan to break into the Reserve Course building, and Chiaki following along out of concern for the friend she hadn’t seen in a while—but where did that leave Peko?

Someone knocked on the door to her classroom.

“Come in!”

The moment she saw Nekomaru’s apologetic face, she already knew what had happened. It didn’t surprise her. It was what she’d envisioned would happen when she came up with the plan in the first place—but she had to at least try.

“Sorry, Miss Yukizome,” Nekomaru said, entering the classroom and rubbing the back of his head, “I turned around for just a minute—and then Izuru was gone. I spent the last hour looking for him, but I couldn’t find him anywhere… Maybe he really wasn’t being shy when he said he didn’t want to become an athlete.”

“I think he just needs a bit of help coming out of his shell,” Chisa said, “Maybe you should leave him alone for today… but tomorrow there is another chance!”

A year ago, that statement would’ve been enough for Nekomaru to get fired up. Now he was just looking at her with an uneasy frown.

“If Izuru doesn’t want to be an athlete, I can’t force him. There’s only so much I can do as a team manager.”

“To be honest… I don’t think he wants to become an athlete either. I was just hoping that some of your team spirit would rub off on him.”

“Oh?” Suddenly Nekomaru’s presence in the room seemed more pronounced. “Is that all? Why didn’t you say so from the start, Miss Yukizome? My approach was wrong from the very beginning! I will show Izuru what it means to have team spirit!”

Her student ran out of the classroom with renewed enthusiasm.

“You crafty woman,” It seemed Fuyuhiko had overheard their conversation. He appeared in the doorway of her classroom. The Ultimate Yakuza shook his head, “So now that Komaeda’s not here, you’re moving to another project?”

“Why are you asking?” Chisa asked, smiling pleasantly. That always seemed to get a rise out of her student, especially when it was aimed at him. “Are you volunteering?”

“Hell no! I already told you to leave me out your fucking demented schemes!” He hissed. He frowned at her, “But sending Nidai after Kamukura right off the bat? Aren’t you moving a little fast, even for your standards?”

“I haven’t even started yet.”

Fuyuhiko looked at her as if there was something grotesquely wrong with her. He opened his mouth to say something, but then changed his mind.

“Well, whatever,” he muttered, before making move to leave.

“Fuyuhiko…” she said, stopping him from leaving, “You know why Hiyoko’s mad at Izuru, right?”

“No,” Fuyuhiko said decisively, “I am not involving myself in that mess. I don’t care what you say or do. I’m out.”

As her student left hastily, Chisa glanced down at the papers in front of her with a frown.

Since her first visit, Junko came to his dorm every evening. She specifically waited for him to leave his dorm and upon his return she’d be waiting for him. She would alternate between complaining about her own life and ridiculing his.

She’d become just another part of his daily and boring routine.

“What will you do, Izuru? You’re at fucking Hope’s Peak Academy. If not even this cancerous academy can cure your boredom, then what will? What will you do after you graduate? Find a job? Is there even a job out there that would be able to satisfy your needs? Are you going to settle down and start a family? Are you going to tolerate a job you hate so you can support a family hate? Are you going to endure life’s sheer predictability until you die? You’d be fucking bored out of your wits.”

There wasn’t anything she could say that he didn’t already know.

“But I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? We both know there’s no life for you out there. Some people invested a lot of money into creating you—believe me—and those people want to see results. They’re never going to let you go. You’ll never be able to choose a life for yourself. They own you, and they will never be satisfied. And the truth is, they can’t ever allow you to be free. If someone discovers what they did, this academy will be forced to close. So many people’s lives would be ruined if this came to light!”

Izuru wasn’t looking anywhere near her, but he knew that Junko was watching his every move.

“No matter how you look at it, there are just no options for you. You’ll always draw the short end of the stick. If you leave this place, you’ll end up in the researchers’ clutches again. If you stay here, you’ll also end up in the researchers’ clutches again. If someone were to release information about the Hope Cultivation Project to the outside world… you’d end up in researchers’ clutches again, just not the ones you’re used to. Who knows, Izuru, maybe they will even do something that hasn’t been done to you before…”

He could hear the smile in her voice.

“That does make me wonder… does that thought terrify or excite you?”

He could hear her jump up from his chair, and this time she was cackling out loud, unable to contain her glee.

“Who am I fucking kidding? Hope’s Peak gave you talent, but they took away everything else! You don’t even have the luxury of feeling excitement or fear anymore—and if you somehow still did, it would only be a matter of time before they took that away, too!”

It took a while for her to regain her composure. Eventually, her laughter died down.

“Honestly, though. Most people in your position would just kill themselves. But you’re not most people. You’re barely even human anymore. The situation you’re in is hopeless—and you are pretty fucking hopeless yourself!”

There was nothing Junko Enoshima could say that he didn’t already know.

Both Chiaki and Peko stared at Ibuki as she leaned heavily on her trash picker. They’d already warned her that she was going to break it that way, but the girl seemed to be too distracted to pay any attention to them.

“It just isn’t fair…”

“You don’t even like Teruteru.”

“I only don’t like Teruteru when he’s being a pervert, but… but Ibuki likes his cooking! Ibuki really, really wanted to go to his cooking class today! He promised me to give me the recipe to his amazing cake if I went to all of his cooking classes! Instead, we have detention! The only thing that will remain from Teruteru’s amazing cake is the memory in Ibuki’s mind!”

“Sorry…”

“You don’t need to apologize, Chiaki.”

“It’s Ibuki’s own fault she can’t go to the cooking class,” Ibuki said. She seemed to be absolutely miserable, and her trash picker bent in alarming ways as she kept leaning on it with her full weight. “But I can’t believe that Miss Yukizome won’t let me go… Ibuki even said that it would improve her relation with Teruteru!”

“You’ve been approaching this the wrong way, Ibuki,” Sonia said, “There is a way to go to Teruteru’s cooking class, if you want to.”

Out of all of them, Sonia was the one picking up trash with unrivalled enthusiasm. Ibuki had simply accepted the princess’s presence into their midst with glee. When Peko asked her why she was picking trash with them, Sonia explained that it wasn’t likely she’d ever pick trash again, so she couldn’t resist the opportunity to try it out with her friends. It was definitely their teacher’s influence at work.

“Please tell me!”

“Well, Miss Yukizome has been really focussed on Izuru this week. She wants him to get along with the rest of our class. If you tell her you want to bake something for him, I’m sure she’ll let you go.”

“That is… so smart of you, Sonia!” Ibuki said, finally standing up straight again. She laughed lightly, “Miss Yukizome can’t say no to that! And if I do bake something for Izuru, then maybe he’ll finally agree to join my band!”

“I don’t think that will work,” Peko said.

It was of no use. Before anyone could stop her, Ibuki was already running towards the main building. Chiaki and Peko turned to look at the princess.

“Why did you do that?” Peko asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Ibuki’s really going to bake a cake for Izuru now,” Chiaki said.

“I’d be really pleased if she did,” Sonia said, picking up a bit of trash and putting it into the garbage bag she was carrying with her, “Out of everyone in class, it does seem like she’s closest to Izuru, doesn’t it?”

Apparently Sonia considered the daily routine of Ibuki playing around with Izuru’s hair and the long-haired boy’s refusal to acknowledge that it was happening as evidence of Ibuki being closest to him. But, in a way, it was.

“Did you do it because of the rumours?” Peko asked.

“I don’t wish to speak ill of any of our fellow students, but… I don’t think it would hurt anyone to have more than one friend.”

Chiaki wasn’t sure what her friends were talking about and before she could ask, she got distracted by the buzzing of her cell phone in her pocket. Her heart leapt up in her chest when she saw that it was an unknown caller.

She picked up the phone hastily, hoping she’d recognize the voice on the other end.

Chisa spotted Chiaki sitting on a bench, staring at her lap. From where she was standing, it looked as if Chiaki was just playing games instead of picking trash, as she was supposed to. Chisa walked over. She was not going to let her student spend her detention playing games. As she got nearer, she realized she was wrong.

Chiaki was staring at her phone, looking upset.

Chisa sat down next to her student on the bench. Chiaki barely noticed her. She seemed to be lost in thought.

“You still haven’t heard anything?” Chisa guessed.

Her student blinked and turned her head towards Chisa. She opened her mouth, but hesitated.

“Actually, I have.”

“Really?” Chisa asked, perking up. She settled down as she noticed that Chiaki herself didn’t seem to be in a mood to celebrate. “What happened?”

“A classmate of Hajime’s called this afternoon,” Chiaki said, then stopped, staring at her lap.

“And?” Chisa pressed.

“He said that Hajime is no longer a student here. He stopped coming to class two years ago, without telling anyone beforehand. He just left.”

“It must be disappointing to find out he’s no longer a student here,” Chisa said, feeling for the disheartened girl, “Did his classmate perhaps know of a way to reach him?”

Chiaki shook her head.

“He was hoping I could help him with that.”

“He wants to get into contact with Hajime, too?”

“Yes, but… for different reasons. Apparently, Hajime still owes him some money.”

It was no wonder that Chiaki looked so disheartened. Her student had hit a dead end. Chisa could empathise with her.

When her three students had been caught breaking in, Chisa had assumed that Ibuki had been the main force behind their actions. She could imagine how excited Ibuki must’ve been after discovering that Chiaki had a friend outside of their class—or outside the Main Course, even—and she’d assumed it was the Ultimate Musician’s enthusiasm which had led them to break in. Talking to Chiaki like this made her realize that it wasn’t the case.

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing. Probably.”

“I can tell that something is bothering you. Maybe talking about it will make you feel better.”

Chiaki paused for a bit, but then spoke up.

“It’s just… For a long time, I thought that Hajime just didn’t want to meet with me again… because, if he had left the academy for some reason, then I’m almost sure he would’ve said goodbye to me. I thought he was avoiding me on purpose… but he didn’t say goodbye to his classmates, either. I don’t think that’s like Hajime… and then his classmate told me that he was absent for three days before his teacher went to check up on him and discovered that he had left the academy. Isn’t it odd that his teacher wasn’t informed?”

Of course, Chisa knew that things were different at the Reserve Course… but usually teachers got informed when one of their students left school. No matter what course they were in.

“It must’ve been a miscommunication. It happens, sometimes.”

“Yeah…” Chiaki agreed, staring at her lap. She didn’t seem reassured at all.

“Is there more?”

“No…”

“There is. You can tell me, Chiaki.”

“It’s going to sound crazy.”

“If you’re worried about something, you shouldn’t keep it bottled up—even if you’re afraid of sounding crazy. It will make you feel better to share your worries with someone.”

Chiaki blinked a couple of times, startled at her words.

“Do you remember those murders from two years ago?” Chiaki asked her unexpectedly.

“I heard about them on the news.”

Back then, Chisa had not yet joined Juzo in the investigation at Hope’s Peak. Juzo had told her a bit about those murders, but he’d stopped investigating once it was clear it wasn’t related to the Reserve Course’s finances. They’d never caught the culprit responsible for murdering the two Reserve Course students. It was unsettling that Chiaki would bring it up so suddenly.

“I always wondered, but I didn’t dare to ask… There are a lot of classes in the Reserve Course, right? Hajime was in the same class as those two girls who were murdered. I asked his classmate about it, and he said that… Hajime definitely knew them. Those two girls fought with each other a lot, and he was the only one who dared to step in between them. Hajime left Hope’s Peak only a few days after the last murder without telling anyone. He didn’t tell any of his classmates nor his teacher, nor me. I just… can’t help but think that it’s odd.”

“Chiaki…” Chisa started, “If someone vanishes, people notice. If Hajime really disappeared without a trace, don’t you think that his parents would’ve called the police?”

She smiled reassuringly at her student, but Chiaki still looked troubled.

“If you’re concerned that he left without telling anyone… it happens all the time that people are embarrassed to talk about their problems, especially to people they like or look up to. A lot of people are afraid of being judged for their problems. They’re afraid that others will start to look down on them… It’s entirely possible that he felt ashamed for having to leave the academy due to personal circumstances, and that’s why he didn’t tell anyone…”

“He was injured the last time I saw him,” Chiaki said, “He was bleeding. Someone beat him up. He insisted he was okay, but… he wasn’t. He didn’t want to talk about it, so I let him go. I was going to ask him the next time I saw him…”

Chisa wasn’t really sure what to say of that, but she knew that Chiaki needed reassurance. She wondered if Chiaki herself truly understood what she was implying.

“I understand that you’re worried about Hajime, especially if that was the last time you saw him. But, as I said, his family would’ve notified the police if anything had happened, right? For all we know, he could’ve gotten hurt breaking up fights between people. He may have not said anything to you about leaving because he was embarrassed… and it’s very possible that he left so quickly after the murders, because of them. You did say that both of the victims were his classmates. Perhaps, his parents made him come back home. It’s possible that they thought that it wasn’t safe here for him anymore. Maybe he chose to leave himself because of that.”

“That’s possible…” Chiaki muttered. Her shoulders had slightly relaxed. “If that’s the case, I still wish he would’ve told me, though. I would never look down on Hajime, no matter what.”

“You really care for him, don’t you?”

“He is the first friend I ever made.”

When she’d first started teaching her class, things between her students had been a mess. Most of her students didn’t get along with each other at all, though there had been some exceptions. A major cause for the disharmony had been the fact that they barely spent time together. Most of them had gone their own way or spent most of their time developing their talents on their own. It was the reason why she had made homeroom class mandatory.

It surprised Chisa to discover that Chiaki had had a friend before any of her classmates. It wasn’t that Chiaki was unfriendly or unlikeable—the opposite, actually—but due to her absent-mindedness and awkwardness she could be hard to connect with. She could see how some people might mistake her gaming habits for disinterest.

“Why did you never mention Hajime before?”

“Like I said, I thought he was probably avoiding me. I thought he must’ve gotten bored of always playing games…”

Chisa was less surprised to find out that Chiaki had bonded with her first friend over games.

“So what changed, then?” Chisa asked, “There must’ve been something that would make you decide to break into the Reserve Course building.”

“I’m… not sure,” Chiaki said.

Chisa could tell that Chiaki was not telling the whole truth at that moment. Perhaps, she was trying to protect someone from getting into trouble. She thought it was unlikely that Chiaki had come up with the plan of breaking into the Reserve Course herself. Maybe she was trying to protect Ibuki, but since the other girl had already received her share of punishment, it’d be unnecessary. She decided to let it slide.

Even though Chisa understood that Chiaki had reason to worry about her friend, it was unlikely something had happened to him. Still, Chiaki’s fears were real. She wouldn’t have broken into the Reserve Course building otherwise.

She realized that there was only one way for her to completely put Chiaki’s mind at ease.

“I guess it can’t be helped,” Chisa said, letting out a dramatic sigh, “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“What do you mean?” Chiaki asked, her eyes wide.

“I mean that I’ve been worried about you—and I know I’m not the only one. I’m pretty sure that your friend is doing just fine. Your actions nearly caused you, Ibuki and Peko to be suspended—and I really can’t have my precious students suspended over some boy’s phone number.”

Chiaki looked both guilty and embarrassed, to Chisa's amusement.

“If you promise me to stop worrying, then I’ll see if I can help you get into contact with your friend. Do we have a deal?”

“That guy really just loves to make us all wait,” Hiyoko said irritably, “I wish Miss Yukizome would just give up already! If he wants to stay in his dorm so badly, then why don’t we just let him die there!”

“I really don’t get your problem with Isamu. He’s a pretty friendly guy.”

“I’ve never seen anyone who’s a worse judge of character than you,” Fuyuhiko said, exasperatedly, “For fuck’s sake, Owari!”

“What?” Akane said, her voice a little higher, “I’m not that bad.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” Kazuichi muttered.

Chiaki’s attention was mostly on her Game Girl. She had some catching up to do. After her talk with Miss Yukizome—and her surprising offer to even help find information on Hajime—her worries had eased a bit. For the first time since their conversation by the fountain, she was trying to beat Izuru’s high score.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed that Ryouta turned around in his seat. He was trying to catch her attention, but his timing could’ve been better. Chiaki’s eyes remained fixed on her Game Girl’s screen, her fingers pushing the buttons with precision—but she knew she needed more time. It was rude to make Ryouta wait for so long.

She put away her Game Girl reluctantly and looked up. There was a flash of annoyance on his face, which he hid quickly once he saw that he finally had her attention.

“I’m sorry,” Chiaki apologized.

“Don’t worry. I know what it’s like to get caught up in something.”

“It was a bit rude of me to make you wait…”

He didn’t argue with that.

“Chiaki, I’ve been meaning to ask you when the next class meeting will be.”

Their last class meeting had more than two weeks ago. She’d been completely preoccupied with other things, and she’d completely forgotten about organizing the next class meeting. Ryouta was the first to ask her about it.

“Ibuki and Peko said you had some things on your mind—so, maybe you haven’t noticed that our class has been a little tense, lately. I think a class meeting would do everyone good. If it’s too much for you to organize something at the moment, I could do it.”

Ryouta didn’t speak out much during class. He had a way of blending in with the rest. Though he got along with everyone else well enough, there was always some sort of distance between him and the rest. He spent most of his time working on his animation—and it was weird for him to take initiative like this.

She stared at him for a moment, surprised by his assertiveness. Perhaps it was because of her delay in response that his confidence slowly seemed to crumble. He stared at her nervously.

“Would you… like to organize the next meeting?”

“I… wouldn’t mind.”

“Then… sure.”

“Thanks for trusting me with this. I’ll make sure everyone will have a good time,” Ryouta said, breaking out in a smile.

“I know you will,” Chiaki said, trying to assure him.

Thanks to Miss Yukizome, she wasn’t as distracted as last week. It wasn’t necessary for Ryouta to take over her duties, but she could tell that he really wanted to. She wasn’t sure if this was a sign that Ryouta was becoming more confident in himself or that was reaching out to his classmates more, but she would gladly let him organize one of their class meetings.

Izuru’s shoulder still hurt a little from where he had let Nekomaru Nidai hit him, but at least the Ultimate Team Manager had finally understood that his newest protégé was completely unwilling to cooperate with his training. Avoiding him had only been temporary solutions at best, so Izuru had had to resort to a language Nekomaru was more likely to understand. Nekomaru had finally given up after Izuru had let himself get hit when he was supposed to defend himself.

Nekomaru’s heartfelt speeches about team spirit had been even more annoying to deal with than Junko Enoshima’s dull attempts to get into his head, even if it was just because Nekomaru’s speeches were much louder.

His days were even getting more predictable with every passing day. Everything new always quickly became part of the daily routine.

His second appointment with the headmaster went almost exactly the same as the first. Jin Kirigiri reminded him of his limited time at the academy. He told him what was expected from him, and then reminded him that it was his last chance.

“If you don’t cooperate, then I won’t be able to justify your presence here.”

Izuru didn’t pretend to care for the headmaster’s words.

It was just another approach to get Izuru to do what he wanted—and what the Steering Committee wanted, what the researchers wanted, and even what Junko Enoshima wanted. If Izuru cooperated, he played into everyone’s hands. He hadn’t found a reason to. They’d have to try harder for his cooperation.

Izuru was still distracted when he entered his dorm. Junko’s presence was an unpleasant surprise. Usually, she only visited him in the evenings—and normally when he entered his dorm, he would find her going through his stuff. This time, she’d found the cake Ibuki Mioda had given him a few days earlier, and she had nearly eaten all of it. She happened to be looking at his door as he opened it. She stared at him with her mouth wide open.

“Did I just see that right?” she asked, disbelievingly.

He didn’t react to her words and closed the door behind him.

“Fuck yes, I did! I knew it! I knew that there was no way that you didn’t feel anything anymore!”

“Go away.”

“Nope. Definitely not. Not after this,” She got up from his chair, walking towards her with a face-splitting grin on her face, “Come one, Izuru, don’t pretend nothing happened back there. It was as quick as a flash, but I saw it clear as day! You are not as uncaring as you pretend to be—but who can blame you? All those years of being treated as a test subject, as a subhuman—it would take a toll on anyone—even someone as subsubhuman you.”

He wanted to walk past her, without even further acknowledging her presence. She stepped in front of him, blocking his way.

“You can’t do anything against me, can you? Because you care. Because you want a reason to stay. Because you hope someone, something, anyone, anything will give you a reason to cooperate—but fuck, do you hate the bastards who did this to you!”

“You’re delusional.”

She took a step backwards, the smile never leaving her face. This time, she didn’t block his way as he crossed his dorm and went over to his bed, trying to ignore Junko’s words and presence.

“If I recognize that look in your eyes, then they will too. They will open up your head and take the bad feelings out, as they always do. I hardly need to remind you of that. But, your situation is the reason for your resentment and as long as the situation doesn’t improve, the resentment will return. They can’t get rid of those tiny bit of pesky feelings inside of you, but they must’ve tried. Did they try too hard? Is that it? Is that why you’re here? You’re just nothing but an experiment on the brink of failure. That’s so tragic, so despair-inducing! That’s… that’s…”

Her voice slowly died down.

“That’s perfect.”

Without any warning, she rushed towards his door. The door slammed shut behind her. Then she was gone.

Izuru stared out of the window until class was over, like he did every day.

He could tell why he had been placed in Chisa Yukizome’s class, but he wasn’t very impressed. If nothing else, Yukizome was persistent. Perhaps they thought that her persistence would mean something to him, but it just made his days even more predictable. He could expect her to get into his dorm to bring him to class, to subject him to some kind of test and to attempt to engage him with his classmates and activities outside of class. After class, he went to his dorm and stayed there until it was nearly time for the cafeteria to close. After he got dinner, Junko would usually be there, waiting for him. She’d become part of his routine, too.

Every day was exactly the same.

It wasn’t any different from the research lab. There was no reason to stay. Junko could say whatever she wanted, but it made no difference. He felt a pang of irritation that she even came up in his mind. It was a sign that she was getting under his skin, despite that he knew she was just grasping at straws.

Halfway through class, the door to the classroom opened. Izuru wasn’t interested in the least, until he noticed that the class had suddenly grown quiet.

Even Chisa Yukizome was stunned into silence.

“Hey everyone, I’m back!”

For a moment, everyone just stared at the student who’d entered the classroom and closed the door behind him. The tall, skinny student didn’t seem bothered by everyone’s lack of response. He smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry for being late. I had some problems with my luggage, but at least—“

Kazuichi screamed.

That seemed to break everyone out of their stupor.

Sonia quickly turned her head in Kazuichi’s direction and scolded him. He pulled his cap halfway over his head, teary-eyed and whispering to himself. Both Nekomaru and Akane jumped from their seats and rushed to the front of the class. Nekomaru slapped the newcomer’s back with a wide grin, nearly bowling him over.

“It’s good to have you back, Natsume!” Akane said, slapping his shoulder.

Ibuki also got up from her seat, welcoming the new student warmly.

Izuru looked at Chisa Yukizome with interest. It was the first time her smile had slipped away from her. She silently stared at the student who had returned and watched as his classmates gathered around him, her expression unreadable.

“School started weeks ago!” Mahiru said, putting her hands to her waist, “Where have you been? Don’t tell me you’ve just been skipping school all this time!”

“No, no, nothing like that,” the boy responded, still smiling apologetically, “It’s a really long story. I don’t want to bore everyone with the details…”

“It must be an amazing story! Ibuki wants to hear it!”

“N-No, get a-away with your story! I d-don’t want to hear it!”

“Don’t be such a sissy!” Hiyoko said to the stammering Kazuichi, “Things have been so boring, lately. You should be glad Nagito has returned to liven things up! Isn’t that right, Fuyuhiko?”

“Shut your mouth, you… shit.”

Fuyuhiko had grown pale, and his insult seemed to be nothing more than an automated response. He looked like he didn’t want go anywhere near the other students, but a subtle kick from Peko made him get up from his seat. He threw a glare at her before he moved towards the front of the classroom.

Instead of trying to gain back control of her class, Yukizome sat down behind her desk and watched the reunion without intervening. She was unable to completely hide her frown. The tension the student had brought with him seemed to be mostly dissipated and it was being replaced with dull conversations. Izuru returned his attention towards the window.

“Nagito,” Hiyoko’s voice suddenly cut in, “I don’t think you’ve introduced yourself to our newest classmate yet. How rude!”

Izuru had known her long enough to know that she was up to trouble. For a moment their eyes met each other. She tried to cover her smile behind her hand.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there!”

The light-haired student moved away from the other classmates. Some of the other students suddenly grew silent.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to be rude,” the student started, smiling easily, “My name is Nagito Komaeda. I’m this class’s Ultimate Lucky Student.”

He added the last part only because Izuru didn’t respond to his introduction immediately.

“Izuru Kamukura.”

“Izuru Kamukura?” Nagito repeated with a frown. “But isn’t that also the name of the founder of Hope’s Peak Academy?”

Nagito was only the second student to recognize his name. Sonia had hesitantly asked him about his name last week, after Yukizome had paired him up with her and Gundham for another class assignment. Before Izuru needed to repeat the lies he’d told Sonia, the princess came over to their side of the classroom and joined the conversation.

“Izuru is the founder’s great-grandson,” Sonia said with a smile, “He was named after his great-grandfather in his honour, isn’t that right?”

He only needed to nod.

“Great-grandson? Of the founder?” Nagito seemed thoroughly confused, “I wasn’t even aware that the founder had family.”

“The Kamukura family is very private,” Sonia answered in Izuru’s stead again, “Personal information about his family was left out of the founder’s autobiography and biographies intentionally.”

Nagito’s frown slowly faded. His eyes lit up.

“Of course, Sonia would know something like that!” he said, looking at Sonia with admiration, “I’m very pleased to meet you, Izuru! I can’t believe I’m in the same class with someone related to our founder! How long have you been at Hope’s Peak? Do you like it here? Does Hope’s Peak live up to your expectations?”

“Slow down, Komaeda,” Fuyuhiko said.

“No, he should hurry it up,” Hiyoko grumbled.

Izuru wasn’t sure why Sonia had taken over the conversation, but the tense atmosphere in the classroom had improved somehow—until Hiyoko opened her mouth again.

“Come on, Nagito! Ask Izuru about his talent, already!”

The boy in question seemed puzzled. He looked at her with a frown.

“Is there any reason you want me to?”

“She’s the devil,” Fuyuhiko muttered.

“Just ask him!”

“Stop trying to provoke Nagito!” Mahiru chastised the other girl, “He just got back!”

“Izuru is the Ultimate Hope,” Yukizome suddenly said, breaking her silence. The smile had returned to her face. “He’s only been here two weeks.”

Nagito went still after Yukizome’s words, almost as if he was frozen to the spot. His expression was unreadable. Izuru could hear Hiyoko snickering from her seat, but his attention was caught by Ibuki suddenly rushing back to her seat. A startled scream was heard from the other side of the classroom. In her haste, Ibuki had accidentally knocked over Mikan.

“That’s not Izuru’s only talent!” she said, pushing Nagito to the left, so she could return to her seat, “He’s an amazing headbanger, too!”

“Headbanger?” Nagito repeated, knitting his eyebrows together.

“Yeah, well, maybe Ibuki hasn’t seen him in action yet, but Ibuki is convinced that he would be the greatest headbanger if he tried! And then he could join my band!”

“I’m sorry, Ibuki. I don’t think Izuru’s interested in joining your band,” Chiaki said, looking truly sorry for her friend, “or that he’s interested in becoming a headbanger.”

“Ibuki’s dreams are cruelly crushed!”

The classroom seemed to have returned to normalcy. Peko helped Mikan up from the floor while Mikan kept apologizing profusely to no one in particular. Mahiru kept Teruteru at bay. Kazuichi had been laying face down at his desk for a while. Fuyuhiko startled him into straightening up with a quick punch to his shoulder.

Judging from the sour expression on her face, Hiyoko’s plan had not played out the way she had hoped it would.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow!” Chisa said to her students as they exited her classroom.

To his credit, Chisa didn’t even need to tell Nagito that he needed to stay behind. She watched as some of his classmates called out to him and said they were glad he was back. It didn’t fail to warm Chisa’s heart, especially since it hadn’t been that long ago that such simple gestures towards Nagito would’ve been unthinkable.

When the last of her students exited the classroom, a silence came over the room. Chisa didn’t know where she wanted to start—and Nagito took it upon himself to fill in the silence.

“You must be really mad, Miss Yukizome.” He was the very picture of resignation at that moment, staring down at his feet with a troubled expression. “I couldn’t even keep the promise I made to you. Really, I’m such… I’m sorry.”

She took a deep breath.

“I was worried, above all else. The last time I heard from you, you sent me a message that you wouldn’t be able to contact me for two weeks—and that turned into two and half months! What happened, Nagito? And don’t you dare say that you don’t want to bore me with all of the details! I’ve got all day! I’ve got all week, if need be!”

The corners of his mouth started to curl. He smiled at her gratefully.

“I see… So, you haven’t changed a bit. I’m glad!”

“I’m still waiting on your explanation.”

She deeply cared about her student, but she needed to know what had happened. She needed to know if he was alright. She’d known him long enough to know that she wouldn’t be getting a straight answer out of him.

His story confirmed many of her fears and worries about his whereabouts after his sudden disappearance. Only Nagito would land himself on a luxury cruise ship by luck, for it to get hijacked twice. He admitted that the first group of hijackers were unpleasant, but the second group of hijackers were an eccentric bunch, dressed in clown-like attire. They’d only wanted to ‘liven up’ the cruise.

If anyone but Nagito had told her the same story, she wouldn’t have believed one word of it—especially considering his light tone. But this was Nagito, and his life consisted out of a string of bizarre and outlandish events most people would consider traumatizing. His newest story fit right in, and the light-hearted tone he used to tell her the story was exactly the same as when he had told her about the way his parents had died.

“Are you okay?” she asked, finally.

“I’m fine. Really. I actually got to meet a lot of interesting people. I’m just sorry I couldn’t keep my promise, but… we were on the middle of the ocean, so it was impossible to contact you. I did try, though.”

“Are you really okay?”

“I am,” Nagito said, his smile wavering, “Really, you shouldn’t worry so much over someone like me.”

“Nagito…”

“Sorry, an old habit,” he said, scratching his neck, “I just mean that I appreciate your concern, that’s all.”

That wasn’t all. By the end of last year, she really felt she had made incredible progress with Nagito—but now, now she wasn’t so sure. She didn’t like the fact that they’d been out of touch for two and a half months. Anything could’ve happened. Nagito’s voice startled her out of her troubling thoughts.

“Miss Yukizome, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“I thought Hope’s Peak didn’t allow any students to skip grades. That would sort of beat the purpose of letting students develop their talent freely during their time here… so doesn’t that make it strange that Izuru was placed in our class?”

“Izuru… may be an exception.”

“Does it have to do with his family?”

“Really, Nagito! If you’re curious about Izuru, you should ask him yourself.”

“I’m going to,” Nagito said, “but you noticed it too, didn’t you? Izuru’s is a bit… different.”

“He’s just like everybody else.”

“I couldn’t help but notice that everyone’s a bit on edge around him.”

She was surprised that he hadn’t simply assumed that it was his own presence that had caused the tense atmosphere.

“He’s having some troubles coming out of his shell,” Chisa said, not sure if Nagito would believe her, “He’s only been here for two weeks.”

“I see,” Nagito said slowly, scratching his chin. “Well, is it okay if I go now? I still need to find out where my luggage has gone.”

She was about to let him go when she suddenly something important came to mind.

“Nagito… Did you read the email I sent you?”

He nodded. She didn’t miss the way that his smile tightened.

“I caught up on my email two days ago...” His face darkened, “I can’t believe they let her back here, after what she did…”

“She’s been thoroughly evaluated by several esteemed psychological experts. If anyone thought she wasn't ready to return, she wouldn't be here. Promise me that you won’t do anything rash.”

“I promise I won’t do anything rash.”

Chisa wasn’t content with just that. He’d given in too quickly and too easily.

“Remember what you did during your first year? Many were opposed to your return, too—but you got a second chance and returned here… and you’ve been doing really well, Nagito. That girl, Junko, she deserves a second chance, too. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

Nagito didn’t say anything.

“Just promise me that you’ll give her a chance.”

This time, it took a lot longer for the boy to reply. He frowned, studying her face. Eventually, his shoulders dropped, and he let out a sigh. He even sounded annoyed.

“I’ll give her a second chance.”

“Thank you, Nagito. That’s all I could’ve asked for.”

Chapter Text

“Oi, Kamukura! Open your door!”

Izuru recognized the voice of Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu just outside of his door. Usually, it was Chisa Yukizome who came to get him for class at this hour. It was the first time his day started differently. As usual, Izuru ignored the knocking at his door.

“I know you’re in there! Open up!” Fuyuhiko said, impatiently. “Is he fucking ignoring me?”

“Let me handle this,” Peko Pekoyama’s softer voice said. “Izuru. We’re here on behalf of Miss Yukizome to get you to class. We have permission to open your door.”

There really was no incentive for him to open the door for his classmates if they were coming in regardless. Shortly after her words, he heard noises by his door. Peko’s method of breaking into his dorm was both quicker and more efficient than Yukizome’s. His lock stayed attached to his door.

“Fuck, that is one shitty lock,” Fuyuhiko commented. He glanced around Izuru’s room, visibly unimpressed with what he saw. His frown only deepened when he spotted Izuru on his bed, not making a move to get up. For some reason, Peko was studying his room intently, almost as if she was looking for something.

“Don’t tell me you actually do sleep in that thing,” Fuyuhiko said, eying Izuru’s student uniform.

Peko briefly shot her classmate a disapproving look but he pretended not to notice. There was a brief silence before Fuyuhiko realized that Izuru wasn’t going to respond to his comment. He looked away.

“I know Yukizome usually does this shit, but she had another idiot to pick up this morning. Some moron told Soda he’s going to die within the next three days, so now that dumbass has locked himself inside his dorm and refuses to come out. At least he doesn’t have a lock as shitty as yours. It actually does its job and keeps unwanted visitors out.”

Fuyuhiko gave him a pointed look. Izuru was aware that the Ultimate Yakuza wasn’t just talking about himself and Peko—or even Yukizome for that matter.

“Why are you here?”

“We know that Enoshima has been visiting you,” Fuyuhiko said, spilling the beans, “and I’ve known Komaeda long enough to know he’s not simply going to leave you alone. You should know that they hate each other’s guts—and they are both completely fucking insane. After the shit they pulled last year, I don’t know why they were even allowed back here.”

“Nagito wasn’t responsible for last year’s incident,” Peko said.

“Like hell he wasn’t.”

“He tried to help.”

“And somehow a rocket ship just happened to crash into the school grounds, accidentally thwarting Enoshima’s diabolical plan in progress?”

“It was a malfunction.”

“Soda himself said it should’ve been impossible for that rocket ship to do what it did! Shit like that always happens when Komaeda’s around!”

“He was nowhere near the rocket ship.”

“Why the fuck are you defending Komaeda?”

Izuru drowned out the sound of the other students bantering in his room. Junko Enoshima’s plan had not just been thwarted by her sister changing allegiance but also by Nagito’s luck. Every time he learned something new, the truth became even more boring.

When given enough facts, anything could be predicted. The truth would never be anything but disappointing.

Fuyuhiko and Peko grew quiet.

“What did you just say?” Fuyuhiko asked, incredulously.

Izuru tried to shake the feeling of bitter disappointment that just seemed soak deeper and deeper into his skin with each passing day. He got up from his bed and passed both of classmates without bothering to repeat his words.

Chiaki had spent the last fifteen minutes only partly listening to Ibuki’s theory that Fuyuhiko and Peko had only volunteered to go get Izuru so that they could have a moment alone to progress their secret love affair. She nodded at the right intervals and made agreeing sounds at the right times, while her eyes were focussed on the screen in front of her. Ibuki didn’t seem to care much about her lack of attention, either way. The only one who looked genuinely interested in what she had to say was Teruteru.

Chiaki and Nagito had both volunteered to get Izuru, but then Miss Yukizome had revealed that Izuru was unlikely to open his door for anyone and that she needed a volunteer who could open the door for him—from the outside. She still insisted he would come along willingly, though no one really believed her after that. Still, Fuyuhiko and Peko had offered to go. They’d been gone from the classroom long enough for Ibuki’s story to get strangely specific.

All in all, it was a pretty quiet and peaceful morning.

Hiyoko and Mahiru were trying to get more information from Nagito about his whereabouts for the past two months but he kept insisting that it was a long and boring story and that it wasn’t worth their time. Akane and Nekomaru were arm wrestling each other to pass the time, but aside from the grunting and occasional shout, they were fairly calm. Sonia watched the match carefully, acting as a referee and keeping her wild classmates in check. Mikan watched nervously from her seat, undoubtedly hoping it wouldn’t escalate unexpectedly. Gundham was preoccupied with his twelve Zodiac Generals.

A few heads turned when the door to the classroom opened. Izuru entered the room and walked over to his seat without sparing any of his classmates a second glance. He was followed shortly by Fuyuhiko and Peko.

“That took a while!” Ibuki said, flashing a meaningful smile towards her two classmates. “Did you two have fun?”

Fuyuhiko looked like he wanted to say something, but then he snapped his mouth shut. He sat down in his seat with a frown, resting his feet on his desk. Peko also didn’t respond in her usual manner to Ibuki’s teasing. She took place in the seat behind Fuyuhiko, looking worried.

Ibuki frowned.

“How could they have had any fun?” Hiyoko said. “They had to get—ow! Mahiru!”

“Just stop it,” Mahiru hissed.

Chiaki debated whether or not to pause her game. She’d been meaning to thank Izuru for his help—or maybe it hadn’t been much more than a little push, but he had been the one to finally get her to act. She had tried to talk to Izuru outside of class, but once class was over he always seemed to vanish into thin air. No matter how hard she looked, she could never find him anywhere.

“Hey, Izuru.”

He only slowly moved his attention from the window to her. Even though both Fuyuhiko and Peko seemed troubled upon returning, Izuru still looked the same.

“I never thanked you for last time. So… thank you.”

Ibuki turned around in her seat, curiosity written all over her face. That was exactly one of the reasons she had tried to avoid thanking Izuru in class.

“What for?” he asked.

“For… giving me that advice, last time. It helped.”

For a moment he just looked at her without saying anything. His expression didn’t change.

“Did you find answers?”

“He left Hope’s Peak, but he’s fine, probably. Without your advice I would’ve spent a much longer time worrying about him. So, thank you.”

Izuru was quiet for a few moments.

“He left?” he repeated. “What do you mean?”

“A classmate of his told me that he left because of personal problems. He didn’t know much more than that, but at least it’s something. It’s better than…”

She trailed off.

“What did you expect?”

Izuru knew what she’d been about to say. She looked at his face and couldn’t help but be a little intimidated by his stare.

“I… don’t know what I expected. I’m just really glad that he’s okay. I was a little disappointed that he’s no longer a student here, but that’s just… It matters more that he’s alright.”

He stared at her a little longer. For a moment, she thought he was going to ask her another question, but then he turned his head away and looked back at the window. It was an abrupt ending to their conversation.

Before she could think more on the matter, she was distracted by noise from the hallway. Her other classmates also slowly turned their attention towards the door. Miss Yukizome entered the room with a smile, dragging Kazuichi behind her by his arm. He was already teary-eyed, but when he saw Nagito he nearly panicked. He pointed towards the other boy with his free hand.

“Please, I beg of you! Please send him away, just for three days! I’m too young to die! I’ve so much to live for! I still haven’t been on a date with Miss Sonia!”

“That moron of a Hagakure has never gotten a prediction right in his miserable life,” Hiyoko snapped, “You’re not going to die within the next three days. And quit whining about Sonia, you pathetic virgin!”

“But it’s a one-in-three chance—and bad things always happen to me when he’s near!” Kazuichi pointed an accusing finger at Nagito. “I’m as good as dead with him around!”

“If you keep whining like this, I’ll wring your neck myself!”

“I’ll let you wring my neck all you want,” Teruteru said.

“Pervert!” Ibuki kicked the Ultimate Cook in the back, toppling him over.

“Everyone, quiet down and return to your seats!” Miss Yukizome shouted before things got truly out of hand. As everyone returned to their seats, Miss Yukizome scanned the classroom and smiled. “Now that our class is finally complete, it is time for an announcement from Ryouta!”

Ryouta made his way to the front of the class. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Um, I have an announcement to make. We will have a class meeting at the end of this week—but I… I thought it would be a nice idea to use it to celebrate Nagito’s safe return, too. So… it’s not just a meeting, but a party.”

“I can’t make it,” Fuyuhiko said, a bit too quickly.

“The party will be held in our classroom,” Ryouta said. He looked at Fuyuhiko. If Chiaki didn’t know any better, she’d say that Ryouta was scolding Fuyuhiko. “It’s mandatory to attend.”

“A mandatory party? Who the hell came up with such a demented idea?”

“Be quiet,” Miss Yukizome said. “I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

“Will there be food?” Akane asked.

“Teruteru will cater the party.”

“I’m in!”

Ryouta had been right. As soon as another class meeting was mentioned, the atmosphere in the classroom already seemed to lift for a bit. No one really paid any attention to Nagito’s protests that it really wasn’t necessary to throw a party for him.

“I will play some of my songs!” Ibuki volunteered.

Kazuichi made a strangled sound. Even Nekomaru looked nervous.

“Now I definitely can’t make the party,” Fuyuhiko said.

“Some gates should not be opened,” Gundham said solemnly.

“I already have something else in mind for entertainment,” Ryouta said, to nearly everyone’s visible relief. “Thank you, Ibuki, but maybe next time.”

“What do you have in mind?” Hiyoko asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Are we finally going to see one of Ryouta’s amazing animations?” Ibuki asked excitedly.

“It’s a surprise,” Ryouta repeated, not giving anything away.

“None of this even matters!” Kazuichi yelled, no longer able to contain himself, “I’ll be dead by the end of this week! You’re throwing a party for the one who will get me killed!”

“It is mandatory to attend the party for everyone. Consider it motivation to stay alive until then.”

“Is it me or has his personality changed?” Nagito asked.

“Some people respond badly to power,” Sonia said, shaking her head.

The remainder of the class was filled with excitement over the upcoming party. Hiyoko and Ibuki were primarily concerned about the surprise Ryouta didn’t want to talk about. Their guesses as to what it could be were already slightly bizarre, but Miss Yukizome intervened when Teruteru joined them and their guessing went into another direction completely.

Miss Yukizome and Ryouta each emphasized that the party was mandatory before class was over. In Ryouta’s case, it was mostly aimed at a scowling Fuyuhiko. Miss Yukizome’s eyes were fixed on the other side of the classroom as she said it, but Izuru hadn’t spoken a word since Miss Yukizome and Kazuichi had entered the classroom. Chiaki wasn’t even sure if he had listened to a word of what had been said.

Just after the bell rang, she turned to her left to ask him if he wanted to have lunch together, but he was already gone.

“Someone should probably talk to her,” Chiaki said.

“Not me!” Ibuki said, shaking her head. “I already tried talking to her, but she got really mad. Ibuki can’t risk losing her favourite guitar!”

It was clear as day that something was bothering Hiyoko. Last week, it had been the chemically enhanced stink bomb and just now she’d poured a bucket full of dirty mop water out of the classroom window, drenching a passing student to the bone. Chiaki was certain that it wasn’t a coincidence that Mukuro Ikusaba had been the one on the receiving end of Hiyoko’s prank.

As part of their detention, Miss Yukizome had told them to clean a couple of classrooms. No one had noticed Hiyoko’s plan until it was already too late to stop her. Her detention would probably be prolonged with a couple of days. It had been her last day, too…

“Even Mahiru can’t get through to her,” Peko said.

“She’s been lashing out ever since the return of… you know…”

Hiyoko refused to talk with anyone about what had happened last year. She kept insisting that she didn’t remember, just like Mikan—but her hatred for Junko Enoshima had to stem from somewhere, and it probably wasn’t a lack of memories. Now that Junko had returned to Hope’s Peak, that was becoming clearer than ever.

“I’ll try and talk to her,” Peko said.

Ibuki thanked Peko profusely, thankful that she wouldn’t have to risk her favourite guitar.

After Peko had left, Chiaki and Ibuki remained behind in the room. Chiaki slowly returned to mopping the classroom floor, but Ibuki didn’t resume cleaning the windows immediately.

“It kind of bothers me that we never found out what happened with Hiyoko and Mikan, you know?” Ibuki said, rubbing the back of her head with a frown. “Isn’t it usually trauma that makes you forget things? Ibuki thinks it must’ve been bad…”

It bothered Chiaki too that they’d never found out what had happened to Hiyoko and Mikan during last year’s incident. Hiyoko had been found with severe physical injuries and had spent a couple of days hospitalized. Mikan had been bruised and battered, but nowhere near as bad as Hiyoko. It was her mind that had taken the worst of it. Mikan had been hospitalized for several weeks without being allowed any visitors—for their own safety. After three weeks, she’d made a miraculous recovery. Everyone had been relieved.

Neither Hiyoko nor Mikan had been able to answer any questions about how they’d ended up in such a state. At first Hiyoko had insisted that Junko Enoshima and Mukuro Ikusaba were responsible for their injuries, but an investigation had proved that it was impossible. It would’ve been physically impossible for the two sisters to be in two places at the same time. After that, Hiyoko said she didn’t remember anything, just like Mikan.

“Maybe Peko will get through to her,” Ibuki said, interrupting Chiaki’s course of thoughts. She didn’t sound as if she believed her own words. “Now, for something else… what was that about with Izuru this morning?”

Chiaki needed a moment to adjust. “What do you mean?”

“You totally know what I mean! You just thanked him out of the blue and he even talked back to you! Ibuki hasn’t heard him say a word in days, not even when she pulled his hair!”

“Maybe you should stop doing that…”

“I will, once he tells me to,” Ibuki said. “It’s all part of my masterplan to get Izuru to become my bandmate! So, Ibuki was kind of surprised this morning to hear him talk. What did you ask his help for? Did you ask him for help with Hajime, too?”

Chiaki was surprised that Ibuki had figured it out so quickly. Her surprise must’ve shown on her face, because Ibuki went on.

“So Izuru was the one who said you should break into the administration office? Peko and I figured that you didn’t come up with that plan yourself.”

Ibuki’s face suddenly brightened.

“Well, that settles it! Izuru’s going to be our bandmate whether he wants to or not! We’ll warm him up with a private concert first!”

“What do you mean, our bandmate?”

“You didn’t think Ibuki would forget your great work with the triangle? Sure, we don’t use a triangle in every song, but that doesn’t make you any less a band member!”

Chiaki didn’t protest to Ibuki’s plans. She hadn’t done a very good job at welcoming their newest classmate into their class. At least Ibuki had been trying to make him feel welcome and befriend him. Chiaki wasn’t the best at making conversation. She could definitely use Ibuki’s help.

Listening to Ibuki’s increasingly outrageous plans, she realized that Ibuki also needed hers.

Izuru was lying down on his bed, staring at his door.

He could hear the same voices in the hallway passing by his dorm. They were always accompanied by the same friends. They always seemed to talk about the same things, too: other friends, classmates, teachers, homework, doctor’s appointments, being sick, being in love, getting rejected, the passing of family members… the same old boring, insignificant things.

People felt comfortable living their lives surrounded by familiar things, familiar faces, familiar surroundings… All everyone ever did was try to find a comfortable routine. They never even realized how dull their lives were, how insignificant they themselves were.

This academy was filled with things that served no purpose in the grander scheme of things, if there even was such a thing. Even here at Hope’s Peak, where the most talented were gathered to create a better future, people resisted change. These were the same kind of people who would resist change that was meant to make their lives better. They would resist change because of a temporary period of unease, because of temporary inconvenience. They would resist a better future because they couldn’t look outside the comfort of their own, pointless lives.

Izuru was tired of listening to the voices of the ones who passed his dorm. He tried to drown them out. It would’ve been easier if his dorm had been soundproof.

Time passed, as it always did. Things were quieter at night.

That day, his mind had occasionally wondered to the conversation Chiaki Nanami had initiated with him that morning. He had expected her to fail to get her hands on Hajime Hinata’s file—and that was exactly what had happened. Her chances of being suspended or getting detention had been evenly divided. If she had been suspended, he would’ve had one student less to deal with. If not, she likely would’ve been too distracted to bother him any longer.

However, that morning she had not been as distracted as the week before. On the contrary, she’d seemed more focussed.

She had found false information, but not the information he’d expected her to find.

There were great distinctions between getting expelled, dropping out or deciding to leave. For some, those distinctions meant nothing. There was a possibility Chiaki Nanami had decided to twist the truth a little to spare his past-self from anyone’s judgement. But that was not the kind of person she was.

He was certain she had been genuine.

Long after midnight, he realized that this was the second evening in a row that Junko hadn’t come to visit him. He wasn’t sure if that was why had even more trouble sleeping than usual. There was a great chance she would visit him in the dead of night in an attempt to be unpredictable.

But she never did.

Chisa vastly preferred the dangerous and cluttered mess that was Kazuichi’s dorm to Izuru’s impersonal, empty dorm. Maybe Kazuichi’s dorm smelled of oil and grease, maybe it looked like the inside of a bike shop and maybe she’d lectured him on his lack of hygiene more times than she’d care to admit, but… Izuru’s room lacked a personal impression. It lacked life.

The class rulebook she’d given him two weeks ago still remained lying on the floor. Her fingers were itching to do pick it up and put it away, but she restrained herself. Just like she’d refused to make things easier on herself by getting a copy of his dorm room key.

One of these days, he would put that book away himself and she wouldn’t need a key to his dorm, nor would she need her screwdriver to open his lock.

It just wasn’t that day yet.

She could ignore the book on the ground or that Izuru never seemed to sleep underneath his covers, but she could not ignore the mouldy leftovers of a cake on his desk.

“This cake is not going to walk over to the trashcan by itself,” she said. “Didn’t your parents teach you how to clean up after yourself?”

Izuru didn’t respond. She looked at him. He was still lying on his bed, not making any indication that he was going to follow her to the classroom. She felt that he’d grown even more quiet in the past week, but it was really hard to tell. She didn’t have much material to compare with.

Izuru looked tired. The last time he’d looked this tired, she’d allowed him to stay in his dorm to catch up on sleep with a little help of Mikan. Now she knew a little more about him. His trouble with sleeping was only a symptom. Allowing him to stay in his dorm all day was perhaps not the best way to help him, even if he did look like he could use some sleep.

“Come on, get up. Class started ten minutes ago.”

Some part of her always expected Izuru to refuse to follow her to the classroom, but every time he just got out of bed and came with her without voicing any complaints, not even a typical adolescent reaction, such as rolling his eyes or letting out an annoyed sigh. He reacted differently to her forced visits to his dorm than other boys his age. Kazuichi had nearly fainted when she came to get him the other day. When Fuyuhiko failed to show one day, Chisa had been genuinely worried for him because he was the only student she could count on to be punctual. Even the Ultimate Yakuza had become bright red after she accidentally walked in on him changing.

Izuru followed her towards the classroom quietly. Once inside, he took place at the seat by the window. He kept to himself while her other students talked with each other.

Izuru wasn’t the only student on her mind. Hiyoko’s anger wasn’t subsiding any. If anything, it seemed to be getting even worse. The day before, Chisa had prolonged Hiyoko’s detention with a few days after the girl had poured a bucket with mop water over Mukuro Ikusaba. There was also the matter of Nagito and how he felt about Junko’s return to Hope’s Peak. It was hard to tell how he really felt underneath the smile and his attempts to distract her.

And Juzo had always been curt on the phone, but that morning had been nothing short of ridiculous. He had not even given her the time to respond before he hung up. His invitation to have brunch together had been more an order than anything else, really. Sure, he could be brisk but there had been an urgency there, too. Also, he had never used the word brunch before. He’d always made a point out of refusing to use that word.

Whatever was bothering Juzo, it was important.

“Izuru, we’re going to watch a movie tonight. Would you like to join us?”

“That was all wrong, Chiaki! That’s not how you ask someone to hang out!” Ibuki said, shaking her head. “Izuru, we’re going to do something absolutely amazing tonight and you are coming with us! It wasn’t a question, so you can’t say no!”

Izuru just wanted the two students to leave him alone.

“What is wrong with this world?” Kazuichi said incredulously. He had turned his head towards their corner of the class. “Nagito gets thrown a party, Ryouta goes off with Mikan and Izuru becomes a ladies’ man—and what do I get? I get to die in the next two days?! This just isn’t fair! Isn’t there anyone who cares? Miss Sonia?”

“She already went off with Gundham, moron,” Fuyuhiko said.

Neither Ibuki nor Chiaki paid any attention to Kazuichi’s cries from the other side of the room, nor did they notice Nagito Komaeda approaching.

“Ah, I’m sorry. Izuru can’t join you tonight because he already agreed to meet with me. Isn’t that right, Izuru?”

Nagito Komaeda gave him a meaningful look. Izuru ignored it. With all three of his classmates facing him, Nagito just pretended that Izuru had just agreed with him behind their backs.

“For real?” Ibuki said. She slumped down in her seat. “Ibuki even got a smoke machine!”

Ibuki finally released her grip on a lock of Izuru’s hair. Class had ended two minutes ago, but she’d refused to let go of his hair until he agreed to her proposal. Nagito’s interference had sped things up, but he didn’t know yet what the other boy wanted from him. He had tried to talk with Izuru the day before too, but he’d slinked off rather quickly once he’d noticed that Izuru wasn’t really interested.

Izuru got up from his seat and left the classroom. For some reason Nagito Komaeda followed him.

“I hope you aren’t mad about what I said to Ibuki and Chiaki back there. I just wanted to help you out. You didn’t look very interested in their proposal,” Nagito said, walking alongside Izuru, “and, well, I was hoping that maybe we could talk. I understand if you have more important things to do than answer some of my questions—you are the Ultimate Hope, after all—but perhaps we could meet this evening?”

Izuru wasn’t going to go out of his way to meet with a classmate, but there was only one way to keep Nagito from wanting to ask him questions in the future.

“If you have questions, you can ask them now.”

“Oh really?” Nagito asked, looking at him wide-eyed, “I thought you’d be busy this afternoon. Or, perhaps, do you already have something planned tonight? Ah, I’m sorry. It’s really none of my business who you meet with, is it?”

This was the type of person Nagito Komaeda was. How boring.

Still, when Nagito asked him to follow him to the library, he did. Izuru ignored most of what Nagito said during their walk, but it seemed like the other boy didn’t mind at all. The library was nearly empty part when they arrived. Izuru did hear some rustling and some whispering coming from the other side of the library, but it was not anywhere near them.

“I know your family is very private, so I didn’t want to talk with you somewhere just anyone could overhear,” Nagito explained, crossing his arms and looking downwards. “Yesterday I could tell that you didn’t really want to spend time with someone like me, so I went to the library to find books on your great-grandfather… but they’re all out on loan. I guess I’m not the only one who’s curious… Hope’s Peak’s history has always fascinated me… so, would you mind answering some questions?”

There wasn’t much choice in the matter. If he didn’t, then Nagito’s curiosity would remain unsated and he’d be more likely to start an investigation of his own. There was nothing Nagito could ask that he wouldn’t know the answer to.

“I still can’t really believe we have a real, living descendant of the founder in our midst,” Nagito started, “and you share the same Ultimate title, too! So, is your hope the same as your great-grandfather’s?”

“It is.”

“So, you both have a lot of talent?” Nagito asked, his eyes lighting up. “That’s amazing! As expected of someone related to our founder himself!” He paused. “But, it does make me wonder, is that truly your hope?”

Izuru repeated what he’d been taught. “Talent is hope.”

“Is it always?” Nagito asked. “What if the talent in question is bad?”

“Only the talented are capable of bringing about change in a stagnant society. For some that change will be for the better, for others that change will be for the worse. There is no such thing as a change that benefits all.”

Nagito was quiet for a moment. He frowned.

“Someone once told me that there’s no such thing as hope that hurts others.”

Izuru didn’t respond to that. He had already said more than was strictly necessary. If Nagito Komaeda wasn’t capable of realizing how naïve those words were by himself, then he had just proven to be even more uninteresting than Izuru initially thought.

“Did I offend you? Ah, I didn’t mean to be rude… Please forgive me for asking such intrusive questions… and thank you for answering them, Izuru. I feel like a learned a lot today thanks to you… To be honest, I feel like a need a little time to think about it. You don’t need to force yourself to stay here any longer, lucky you!”

One of the first things that Izuru had noticed about Nagito Komaeda was that he was very quick to smile—but his smiles were just a tool to hide his real thoughts and intentions from others. Although Nagito did a good job at hiding it, Izuru could tell he was displeased with the answers Izuru had given him.

He knew this would not be the last time that Nagito sought him out.

The café’s owner pointed Chisa towards the table where Juzo was already waiting for her. His shoulders were tense. She hesitantly took place in the seat across from him and noted the bags under his eyes. He seemed to be even worse off than the last time they’d met.

“What did you find?”

“Remember that favour you asked me for last week?” Juzo asked her.

“The file?”

He reached down to next to the table and pulled out a folder without much further ado. He slid it towards her side of the table. She hesitantly took it and opened it.

Juzo had done as she asked, and he’d gotten her Hajime Hinata’s student file. The first thing she noticed was a picture of the student. Even though it was usual for students not to smile in their photos, she could tell that Hajime was a serious person just by looking at his picture. She quickly scanned the file, trying to look for something that Juzo would find suspicious, but she didn’t find anything—until she got to the bottom of the first page.

“Expelled for not complying with the school rules?”

“That’s what caught my attention too,” Juzo said, taking in her reaction.

“That’s… a very non-specific reason.”

“You look like you didn’t expect this.”

“I didn’t. I was told he left because of personal problems.”

“Why did you want this file in the first place?”

“One of my students wants to get in touch with this boy—she hasn’t heard from him over two years. That’s why I asked you for his file. But what’s the reason you’re so interested?”

Juzo frowned. For a moment she thought he was going to connect the break-in at the administration office with her own request—she was pretty sure he did, too—but he refrained himself from saying anything about it.

“He wasn’t expelled,” Juzo said, without a trace of doubt. “All students who are expelled pass by my office one way or another. I’m responsible for escorting suspended and expelled students off the school grounds. If he had been expelled, I would’ve known.”

“Do you know him?”

“I… had an encounter with him once. I recognize his picture.”

“Don’t you have encounters with a lot of students?”

“The date isn’t right,” Juzo said, evading her question. “I remember that time clearly. No students were expelled around the time of those murders on those Reserve Course students.”

Chisa narrowed her eyes. “Care to tell me more about that encounter?”

Juzo scowled. He looked away from her. “He was trying to enter the Main Course building. He was critical of the on-going murder investigation and he wanted to talk to some of the Main Course students… At the time, I wasn’t sure if the murders were connected to the Reserve Course’s finances. I stopped him from entering the Main Course building to keep him out of trouble, but… his file isn’t right. He was not expelled. I’m sure of that.”

“Is there more?”

“I tried the phone numbers in his student’s file. Both are no longer in use. I tried to contact his teacher to ask her for a more specific reason of his expulsion, but she no longer works here.”

Chisa couldn’t hide her surprise. Making phone calls and subtly trying to get information from unsuspecting people were the kind of tasks he usually passed on to her. Juzo lacked both the patience and temper needed for that kind of work. The amount of work he’d already put into this—and that he’d put this before his resignation—was more suspicious than anything else.

Something was tingling in the back of her mind, something that Chiaki had told her.

“My student told me that the last time she saw Hajime he was bleeding. Someone had beaten him up.”

The quick flash of guilt in his eyes was the only thing she needed to confirm her suspicions.

“You tried to stop a student from entering the Main Course building by beating him up?” she said, incredulously, “That’s why you remember him so clearly?”

“I didn’t say a thing about your questionable teaching methods a few minutes ago!”

“Because you knew that this would be coming up!”

“Look, we can argue about this or we can focus on the real problem,” Juzo said, quickly trying to change the subject. He gestured towards Hajime Hinata’s file. “I stopped him because I could tell he was looking for trouble. He wasn’t going to stop until he found something—and that could’ve ended badly for him—so I decided to step in before he got into real trouble.”

“What made you try to contact him?”

“There was a reason he tried to investigate those murders. I deal with a lot of students. He had the look of someone who needed to prove something. He wasn’t going to stop unless someone made him—which is why I tried to stop him. But I could tell that I didn’t get through to him. I fully expected to run into him again after that day, but I didn’t see him again.”

“Do you really think something happened to him?”

“Someone must have stopped him, some way or another.”

To be honest, there wasn’t much to go on here. Everything could just be a coincidence. His expulsion might be an administrative mistake, although it would be a very bad one. Juzo could plainly be wrong. His memory wasn’t infallible. Perhaps he had simply moved and changed phone numbers. There were no clues that indicated this could be related to Hope’s Peak Academy’s questionable financial practices.

Still, they’d investigated matters with even less to go on.

Besides, she and Juzo both had their own reasons for wanting to investigate the matter.

“So, what does this mean?” she asked. “You’re staying? You’ve realized you can’t do without me?”

“Someone needs to protect this academy and its students from you.”

“Beating students to protect them. Very noble.”

“You’re one to talk. You asked me to steal a file for one of your brats!” Juzo let out a sigh, and looked away. “Let’s just call it even for now, okay? We need to contact Kyousuke. Neither of us has the time to check out these addresses in person.”

She looked down at the picture in front of her, studying the serious-looking boy’s face. He looked vaguely familiar to her, for some reason. According to his file, he’d been expelled months before she even started teaching.

For Chiaki’s sake, she hoped nothing had happened to her friend—yet, at the same time, she couldn’t help but hope that this was the break she and Juzo needed.

“Again?!” Ibuki yelled, earning the looks of some of their classmates. “This is unfair! Ibuki still has detention! You can’t hog Izuru’s evenings! It’s the only free time Ibuki has!”

“I’m really sorry,” Nagito said, smiling apologetically. “I asked Izuru to help me with something today… but I suppose if he’d rather hang out with you and Chiaki than me, that can’t be helped. After all, it’s much more exciting to listen to a live performance by the Ultimate Musician herself… It certainly left an impression on Kazuichi, didn’t it?”

“Y-You…” Kazuichi said, turning in his seat, instantly a few shades paler than usual. “You promised me you would never remind anyone about that ever again!”

“Your screams were such a wonderful sound to my ears,” Hiyoko said, mischievously, “Ibuki’s still looking for a backing vocalist. With a bit of practice—“

“Never! J-Just leave me alone!”

“My bad…” Nagito said, scratching his cheek and turning his attention away from his two classmates. “Your hair does look a little messy. If you’d rather go with Ibuki and have her take care of it, I completely understand.”

“Everyone needs a bit of colour in their lives, Izuru!” Ibuki said, her eyes sparkling with excitement, “and I’ve got just the right colours for you!”

His classmates were truly predictable. From Ibuki Mioda’s persistence to Nagito Komaeda’s manipulative behaviour to Hiyoko Saionji seizing the opportunity to taunt her classmate and Kazuichi Soda’s tendency to take everything at face value.

A scream from Kazuichi distracted his classmates momentarily. Nagito used the same tactic he’d used the day before and pretended that Izuru had just agreed to his invitation.

Ibuki’s shoulders slumped. “I even borrowed a fire machine this time…”

“I think it’s good that you two are spending time together,” Chiaki said.

“Ibuki!” Hiyoko said, “Help me out here! Kazuichi can’t get his notes right!”

Izuru ignored the classmate next to his desk and returned his attention to the window.

It was hard to block out the noises that came from elsewhere in the classroom, because at one point many of his classmates were screaming. Ibuki Mioda tried to teach Kazuichi Soda the right technique to scream and then Nekomaru Nidai joined in and tried to teach him how to increase his volume. Mahiru Koizumi yelled at the boy to stand up for himself. Gundham Tanaka boasted no one would be able to produce a more feral sound than him, and Sonia Nevermind ceased her attempts to calm her classmates down and asked him to demonstrate. Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu attempted to intimidate his classmates into quieting down, but no one took his threats to cement their feet and throw them into the nearest river seriously—anyone except Kazuichi Soda, but his classmates mistook his terrified screams as cooperation. When Chisa Yukizome returned to the classroom she ended the chaos swiftly and spent the remainder of the class lecturing everyone.

His classmates followed the same routine every week and only their methods had some variation to them. He could easily predict his classmates’ behaviour. Nagito Komaeda had even used the same trick as the day before to talk to him again. He also unsubtly commented that if Izuru didn’t feel like helping him out, he could let Ibuki Mioda know that Izuru was available that night after all.

In some ways, Nagito Komaeda reminded him of Junko Enoshima.

After class, he walked along with Nagito to the library like the day before.

“I’ve thought about what you said yesterday,” Nagito said. He’d once again found the most isolated spot in the library. “Izuru Kamukura, your great-grandfather, he died before you were born, right? I don’t think he would agree with your version of hope.”

Izuru was aware that Hope’s Peak had corrupted the founder’s ideals. The real Izuru Kamukura would not have agreed to create artificial hope. There was a reason the Hope Cultivation Plan had never come to fruition during his lifetime.

“It really is a shame that all books on him are out on loan, or you would be able to read for yourself… but I guess it can’t be helped. I’d let you borrow my own copy of my favourite work of his, but I lost it at sea… I’m truly unlucky… It was a gift from Miss Yukizome, too…”

Nagito let out a forlorn sigh. It looked like he’d expected nothing less, but Izuru could tell that the regret on his face was genuine. Nagito slowly shook his head.

“I’ve read quite a bit of your great-grandfather’s works… He believed that talent was something that needed to be nurtured and developed in an encouraging environment. Too often the talented give up hope because their environment discourages them, whether it is because of jealousy, bitterness, finances or just a lack of understanding… Your great-grandfather didn’t wait for others to change the world but he changed it himself—and he changed it for the better. He wanted to give hope to the world. Honestly… I try not to think about it too much. It makes me feel unworthy of being here.”

Nagito assumed he cared about the original reasons for founding Hope’s Peak Academy. It struck Izuru as odd that Nagito didn’t just assume that Izuru owned and had read all the works by his own faux great-grandfather.

“I didn’t mean to lecture you on your own great-grandfather’s ideals—but there really are changes that benefit no one at all. If only a very small group—or, let’s say, if only one person benefitted from a change that left the entire world in ruins and millions of dead… that can’t possibly be a good change. That isn’t hope.”

Nagito still didn’t understand the true subjectivity of change, even after spending an entire day thinking about it. It was as Izuru had predicted. He really didn’t like repeating himself.

“Every society collapses eventually and then a new society will be built atop of it. When one group loses power, another group takes is place. Change is neither good nor bad.”

“I… can’t agree with that,” Nagito said. “You shouldn’t just accept change for the sake of change. Not caring about the outcome at all… that sounds more like despair than hope to me.”

Nagito refused to understand Izuru’s simple truth. Change was neither hope nor despair. Izuru wasn’t going to repeat himself over and over.

Nagito crossed his arms and stared down at the table with a frown. He was quiet for a few seconds, then he let out a sigh. “Thank you for coming with me again. You’ve given me a lot to think about again…”

After that, Izuru returned to his dorm.

He understood why Fuyuhiko had warned him about both Junko Enoshima and Nagito Komaeda. They both had a fixation with his Ultimate title and the symbolic role it gave him. They were very similar in nature. Where Junko embraced her inner darkness, Nagito resisted it.

Izuru wondered if Junko’s absence for the past four days had to do with Nagito’s presence.

He didn’t care enough to investigate.

“For some reason, this feels less like a party and more like a kidnapping…” Kazuichi commented quietly.

“His personality definitely changed,” Nagito said.

Both Kazuichi Soda and Nagito Komaeda were staring at the person next to the classroom entrance. Ryouta Mitarai was standing next to the classroom door, pretending to check off things from a list. In reality, he was guarding the door to make sure that no one left the classroom without his permission.

“N-No,” Mikan Tsumiki protested weakly. “Ryouta has always been like this, r-right? At least, this is how I remember him… but m-maybe I’m wrong, and he’s r-really different, and I don’t know! I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!”

“Nagito, stop bullying Mikan!” Mahiru Koizumi said.

“Don’t make me come over there!” Hiyoko Saionji added.

Nagito looked like he wanted to say something, but then he changed his mind. He let out a forlorn sigh.

“Look at you. Ten minutes into your own party and you’re already angering the ladies,” Kazuichi said, taking pleasure in the situation. “You’re so hopeless!”

“That was uncalled for,” Sonia Nevermind said, shaking her head in disapproval. “Nagito’s our guest of honour, too…”

“M-Miss Sonia!”

Izuru wondered how long it would take before Chisa Yukizome and Ryouta Mitarai allowed the first students to leave the party. After ten minutes into the party he was already tired of listening to his classmates talking. It would take him very little effort to leave the classroom unseen. He refrained from doing so because he knew that Yukizome would not accept that kind of behaviour. It would be far more trouble than it was worth.

He just had to endure this party for a few hours.

With help of their teacher and some classmates, Ryouta had prepared the classroom for the party. There were some decorations, and all of the desks had been set aside to make place for a big monitor.

After Teruteru Hanamaru and some other students returned to the classroom with the food the Ultimate Cook had prepared, Ryouta moved from the doorway.

Just the smell of Teruteru’s food seemed to ignite life into all of the other students. They excitedly gathered around the food trolleys and began eating, some more enthusiastically than others. Soon the classroom was filled with the sound of the other students complimenting Teruteru on his work. He happily accepted their words.

Izuru remained where he was, leaning against the windowsill in the back of the classroom, where his seat normally was. Now it was stacked underneath another table not so far away from him.

He pretended not to hear Mahiru calling him over and she quickly gave up. The Ultimate Cook wasn’t so easily deterred. He ignored Izuru’s protest that he wasn’t hungry and came over with a couple dishes of his own choosing. Izuru knew that Teruteru wasn’t going to go away until he had at least tasted one thing.

“Just try some, Izuru. I’m sure you’ll love these!” Teruteru said, smiling. “They were made with the utmost love and care—and if you refuse to eat, you’ll leave me no choice but to spoon-feed you!”

Fuyuhiko quickly moved to their side of the classroom. “I am not watching Teruteru spoon-feed someone ever fucking again. I’ll shove that food down your throat myself if I have to!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind seeing that…”

Fuyuhiko scowled at the other boy. For some reason, Gundham joined them at the back of the class. Usually Gundham steered clear of Izuru. Perhaps it had to do with the reason why Teruteru insisted on him eating some of the food.

Izuru decided to eat the dish Teruteru had brought to him before any of the other students decided to come over, too.

Teruteru anxiously awaited his response.

“So? What do you think? Do you want more?”

“No. I’m not hungry.”

Teruteru looked stricken.

“This is most unnatural,” Gundham stared at him with wide eyes. “Even a powerful being such as myself had a momentary lapse of weakness when confronted with such a piece of craftsmanship!”

Teruteru wouldn’t take no for an answer. He returned to his buffet and a minute later, he was back, carrying several dishes with him. He grew increasingly more frantic each time that Izuru rejected his dishes. Izuru predicted that the boy wouldn’t stop until someone forcibly made him—but it ended up being unnecessary.

“If Izuru’s not hungry, he’s not going to enjoy your dishes, no matter how good they are,” Chiaki said. “Maybe you should listen to what he’s saying.”

“But—I guess you’re right…” Teruteru agreed reluctantly.

Izuru’s classmates finally let him be when it became clear that Ryouta was clumsily trying to get everyone’s attention. It wasn’t the first time that Izuru noticed that there were inconsistences in Ryouta’s behaviour. One moment, he was guarding the door diligently, snapping at anyone who came too close and the next he was in front of the class, barely getting his point across because he was too nervous to speak in front of a group. Yet, when Fuyuhiko interrupted him to make a comment, he wasn’t thrown off at all.

“Ibuki was right?” It was Mahiru who couldn’t hide her surprise.

Ibuki gasped. “Ryouta is finally going to show us his work? Ibuki has been waiting for ages!”

Ryouta’s cheeks coloured from his classmates’ positive response. “It’s an unfinished project. I’ve… had a creative block for a while now… Miss Yukizome thought this would be a good idea.”

“It’s a great idea!” Yukizome added cheerily.

She grabbed hold of Ryouta’s shoulders and steered him towards the television, perhaps worried that he might change his mind.

“You mean that Ryouta actually does something when he locks himself in his room all day?” Hiyoko asked. “At this point, I just thought he was… you know.”

“Doing what?” Sonia asked.

“Miss Sonia, don’t pay any attention anything that she-devil says!”

“Of course Kazuichi knows what I’m talking about. I bet you do it all the time.”

Kazuichi blanched and sputtered unintelligibly in protest.

“Take a seat, everyone!” Yukizome cut in.

Kazuichi quickly took place in front of the television, grateful for the distraction. Most of the other students followed, some more enthusiastically than others. Izuru could tell that this wasn’t the first time that the other students did something like this. They gathered around the big monitor as if they were used to it. Some students sat down on the ground in front of the monitor, while others pulled up chairs and sat down behind the sitting students.

“Izuru,” Chiaki said. She motioned to the chair next to hers. “Here’s a seat for you.”

Izuru walked over and sat down reluctantly. He knew that if he stayed back in his corner Yukizome would become involved. Aside from retrieving him from his dorm room, she hadn’t bothered him all day. He didn’t want to give her a reason to.

As soon as everyone had settled down, Ryouta explained the basic premise of the story. As soon as he said that it was about a boy who put his work and dreams ahead from anything else in his life, Izuru could guess that it was semi-autobiographical for the Ultimate Animator. Izuru glanced at the clock instead, wondering how long he had to endure the party. Just after the animation started playing, the classroom went quiet very quickly.

Izuru understood why as soon as he glanced at the screen.

The Ultimate Animator used sensory tricks to directly manipulate the brain of whoever watched his work. It didn’t work on those who were in some way familiar with those techniques, as Izuru was. He easily noticed the subtle subliminal messages and tricks that were used. They were mostly harmless. They meant to slightly increase the brain’s dopamine levels, but it also worked on a more subconscious level. There was a light hypnotic layer to the movie, intended to keep everyone watching to the very end.

The other students were completely mesmerised by the screen, not taking their eyes off of it for even a moment. They didn’t even notice when Ryouta took a small digital camera out of one of his pockets, positioned it on a table and then proceeded to film everyone’s reactions. Ryouta himself was more interested in the animation than the reactions of his classmates.

Izuru noticed, but decided not to comment. It wasn’t worth the effort.

He looked back at the screen. The sensory tricks were flawlessly incorporated in some parts, but not that well in other parts. Izuru recognized that the Ultimate Animator was skilled enough to be capable of much more intrusive manipulations. He deliberately chose not to. Izuru found his mind wandering as the animation went on.

Just before the animation ended, Ryouta retrieved his digital camera from the table and pocketed it again. All of the other students were emotional after watching the animation. Some were better at hiding their tears than others. No one was more vocal about his emotions than Nekomaru, who loudly praised Ryouta’s work.

There was something off about Ryouta Mitarai.

To a certain degree, someone’s work could be used to construct a psychological profile on its creator. The animation had been the work of someone very passionate about their work, someone with a clear goal in mind, someone who desperately needed to convey a message. The animation didn’t reflect the Ryouta Mitarai who happily, but calmly, accepted his classmates’ praises. There was a detachment between him and his own work that there shouldn’t be.

It was another display of the Ultimate Animator’s inconsistent behaviour.

“Did you like it?” Chiaki asked, still next to him.

“It was predictable.”

“Was it, really?” Chiaki sounded surprised. Her eyes and cheeks were still a little red. “I think it could’ve gone multiple ways in the end, but I liked how it ended. It was a well-written story.”

Izuru disagreed, but he didn’t feel like arguing. Chiaki continued, regardless of his disinterest.

“The animation was amazing. The character’s faces were so expressive... I’m glad that Ryouta finally felt confident enough to share his work with us. Just imagine what Ryouta could do with games, if he wanted to…” Chiaki seemed to be lost in her thoughts for a moment. “Ryouta just wants to help people. This animation suits him perfectly.”

Izuru glanced around the classroom. His eyes were once again drawn towards the clock.

After Ryouta’s surprise, the party carried on for much longer than Izuru would’ve liked. It seemed to be customary for Chiaki to bring some of her games over so that her classmates could compete against each other. Ibuki temporarily caused a commotion when she returned from a bathroom break with her electric guitar and announced she was going to play her newest song for everyone. Mahiru went around the classroom, secretly taking photos of everyone. She also kept close to Izuru for a while, but her patience wasn’t infinite. No one except Fuyuhiko questioned it when Gundham returned to the classroom with a live wolf.

“Where do you keep these animals?” Fuyuhiko asked, his eyes narrowed.

“This is a descendant from the great Amarok,” Gundham explained, smiling proudly at himself. “This mythical creature only comes to this realm to join the living when summoned by an heir of the Tanaka Empire.”

“Is he ever going to stop that crap?” Kazuichi looked very annoyed.

“Though it is now also bound to the royal bloodline of the Kingdom of Novoselic,” Sonia added, getting down to the wolf’s level and scratching its head lovingly.

Kazuichi made a wallowing sound. It wasn’t just because Nagito accidentally killed him in their co-op game at that exact same moment.

At one point, some of the other students tried to get Izuru to join playing videogames. Izuru had almost been about to give in, if only because Yukizome’s frown deepened each time she glanced at him in the corner of the classroom. Ibuki had already dragged him towards the monitor, when Chiaki suddenly spoke up and asked her classmates to leave him alone.

“He doesn’t like gaming. Let’s not force him.”

“He should at least try!” Ibuki said. “Maybe he’ll really like this game!”

“Some people enjoy watching games more than playing them.”

“He’s been looking at the window the entire time!” Kazuichi snapped.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Sonia said.

“I agree,” Hiyoko said. She didn’t seem pleased with Ibuki’s attempt to get him to join in. “Let’s just leave him be.”

After that, the other students did leave him alone. He had expected Yukizome to intervene at some point. He had expected to be forced to participate in all of the party’s activities, if not by his teacher than by his classmates, but it didn’t happen. Yukizome glanced at him regularly, but she didn’t come over and her frown wasn’t as deep as before.

Gundham left the party first, saying that he needed to return the wolf to its rightful realm. It was the moment Izuru had been waiting for. He could finally leave the party without being accused of not even trying. He left the classroom quietly, while everyone was distracted. He hadn’t exited the hallway yet, when he heard the door to the classroom open and he heard someone’s footsteps coming his way.

“Making a quiet exit?” Nagito asked with a smile, after catching up to him. Izuru just kept walking. “I’m surprised you didn’t go earlier. You looked very bored. I guess you don’t like parties?”

“What do you want?”

“We finally saw one of Ryouta’s works after nearly three years,” Nagito said. “I can’t believe how good it was. What did you think of it?”

“It was predictable,” Izuru said, repeating the same words he’d told Chiaki.

“Predictable? Didn’t you notice the change that overcame our class? Ryouta’s animation was created with a such a beautiful and pure hope that I don’t think anyone was unmoved by it. As soon as it started, I just couldn’t look away anymore. It seemed like the entire class was overcome. Everyone was brimming with hope. He has a truly amazing talent, being able to move everyone, being able to make everyone feel hope. Today, he outshone everyone.”

Nagito was quiet for a few seconds.

“You didn’t feel anything? Anything at all?”

“Nagito Komaeda, you are as boring as Junko Enoshima.”

Izuru didn’t change his pace, but Nagito stopped dead in his tracks. He left his classmate behind in the hallway and continued the way to his dorm without any more interferences.

His dorm was quiet when he entered. He walked over to his bed and lay down on it. His window had been open for the entire day and his room was a bit chilly. He looked at the shadows on his ceiling, cast by the setting sun. From outside, he could students talking and laughing. He heard birds singing outside.

Even the birds always sang the same tune.

The evening passed quietly, and eventually Izuru’s thoughts strayed to Junko against his will. He hadn’t seen her in days. He refused to belief that she was up to anything of interest although he had no doubt she was trying. Whatever scheme she was working on, it would almost certainly fail.

He really detested the part of him that hoped he was wrong.