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Kaede Akamatsu knew, that by the look on Shuichi Saihara’s face, he had figured everything out. And with the way she had thought so, he had probably figured it out a long time ago. He was smart, and her plan had failed, leaving her floundering in the dark. Grasping for clues she had already put together. Acting like she didn’t know anything when in reality she knew everything.
The culprit of this incident is…
…
Kaede Akamatsu.
The culprit of this case is me.
Of course, it was, but she knew that for a long time. To paint herself a murderer, to kill the mastermind for her friends she had only known for so little time - she decided her fate a few days ago. Even if it meant killing another person, she would free everyone.
She told herself that. Told herself, a mere teenager, that she would be able to kill another student. And that she would.
The moment she dropped the shot, she had sealed her fate, as well as Rantaro Amami’s. Or maybe it had been sealed the moment a seedling of doubt containing the thought of killing was planted in her brain. Or maybe it was when she had woke up in a locker, or maybe, or maybe, and there were so many points in time and so many factors that was there even anyone to blame beside the mastermind, the game, but herself most of all?
(Because in the end, she fell right into the mastermind’s trap, didn’t she?)
She didn't want it to end like this, though. Oh, things were supposed to go so much more different. To end with Rantaro Amami with his head bashed in - his head, her hands that rolled the shot - and her, with not physical blood on her hands, but the blood she could feel itching and picking at her skin. Like bugs, crawling; an infestation upon her very being. A parasite named ‘murderer’ which clung to her and would now never let go of her. And the haunting feeling that it was her classmates or herself.
(She knew which one it was going to be.)
She had steeled herself and knew that perhaps, she would be hated, that perhaps, she would fail.
But her plan was to kill the mastermind and when Rantaro Amami set foot into the library everything, everything, everything went wrong and wrong and wrong and she was falling, farther and farther in this web of half lies half truth and assuring smiles with the painful knowledge of knowing how much time was left. To a life cut short, to a fate doomed the moment she stepped into the room.
As the Ultimate Pianist, the Piano Freak, the outcast who would rather press keys on a piano than talk with others, the one who kept to a special kind of loneliness to herself that she never let show, the one who was perhaps a bit too brash and a bit to headstrong and a bit too caring for her own good, she was ready to be hated and hated and hated and despised.
But most of all, she was ready to free her classmates, her friends.
And here she was.
And here she was.
But she knew, she knew when Shuichi Saihara looked up to look her in the eye and open his mouth, she knew the trial was coming to a close, yes, but her last performance was drawing near. The final verse. Coming closer and closer and closer. But what a disgusting song this was, one of death and blood and tears and lies.
Kaede Akamatsu was going to die. The mastermind, failed to be exposed, and she had to switch the piece she was going to play, had to switch the plans and ready herself for death.
How unfair. Just a teenager and preparing for death, for a time that she estimated 45 minutes ahead. Perhaps more.
...Perhaps more.
(Probably less than she was thinking. But was there anything she could really do against it?)
...Well, this is as far as it goes...
“Kaede is the culprit.”
Saihara's words, Saihara's deduction and Saihara's truth cut through her skin like knives and pins and needles and hit her like a ball, perhaps like a steel ball, perhaps like a shot, perhaps it hit her on the head--
She was going to use her death for the survival of her friends, she was going to teach Saihara to be brave in her last moments, give her classmates the hope to move on so this didn't happen again.
It was going to be her last will, she decided. Aside from passing on her wish. Because she played right into the mastermind’s hands and nobody else should be dead and nobody else should have blood of someone so young on their hands.
She hears Kiibo’s exclaim of disbelief, followed by others, and she remains silent.
“W-Wait! That’s not possible. Right, Akamatsu-san?”
She wants to turn to Tenko and say, without lying, “Right.”
But then she would be lying, and not to push everyone forwards. A lie with no purpose; a lie that wouldn’t do any help, in the end.
She can feel Shuichi Saihara’s eyes on her, feels it like she can feel the blood that’s not really there sticking to her hands.
He knows, doesn’t he.
But he’s too kind hearted, like her, he’s too caring, like her, to strike her down and put her to Monokuma’s hammer, to send her to death.
They’re similar, the two of them. But he has to be more confident.
(And how much time does she have left to make him that way?)
The thoughts churn in her head, and she realizes it’s not just Saihara’s eyes on her. It’s everyone’s.
She forces the smile and the laugh.
“Huh? Did you guys really think I’m the culprit? Psh, come on, guys, like I could!”
(She is. She is. She is. This is not a kind lie.)
Saihara stares at her, unblinking.
(Cut me down. End this sorry display, please. Have confidence in your deductions.)
“...Plus, I never met up with Amami-kun. I never had a chance to kill him!”
Find the truth and lie in my words, she wants to say. He has to do this, or everyone else dies. Encouraging others and making them feel better was the reason she took up the piano. Now she must do so without saying it.
(It’s...pitiful. Laughable.)
“Saihara-kun’s just joking around! He wanted to lighten up the mood. Right, Saihara-kun? No matter how you look at it, I couldn’t have killed Amami-kun with that shot.”
She smiles at him, and if there’s one thing she hates more than ever is her ability to lie. He has to take the bait. He has to end this.
He’ll be the one to take care of everyone when she’s gone; the one to figure out the murders she doesn’t want to come and doesn’t know if they will.
She studies his face. Understanding dawns on him, and he casts his eyes down on the floor.
A little less hesitation in his words - maybe none at all, maybe it’s just his shaking voice - as he refutes her statement. He’s smart. He can put it together - how she used the shot at the classroom, not the library.
And time is moving quicker.
Allegro.
The pieces fall into place, and it’s almost like they’re on top of her, or maybe they’re with her, but instead of falling into a puzzle’s board frame she knows that the only place she’ll fall from is from grace. And she’s falling faster, faster, and she knows it’ll be over soon.
Some students oppose him - Hoshi, Momota - and she wishes, wishes they were right in that she didn’t do it, but if she didn’t, they wouldn’t be here, would they?
The vent. The stacked books. The camera flash. Her “master plan for killing the mastermind”. All coming together in Saihara’s head, and likely the others too.
(I don’t want to go.)
Time is a whirl. He explains everything.
There’s a button on the screen before her.
She clicks her own name.
(It’s over soon.)
(It’s over soon.)
(I don’t want to die.)
This is the only way.
(I don’t want to die.)
But she has to die for the others to live.
Oh, how she wishes it wasn’t true. It’s a kind of bittersweetness she finds in the pieces she plays. She’s happy for Saihara, she really is, but at what cost?
She feels the tears, and they’re coming down, quicker and quicker and hot on her cheeks, and she can barely smile through it. This is her punishment, she thinks. This is her punishment.
She sees the faces around her, all full of pity and knowing she will be killed by Monokuma’s hand.
Everything she did to try to stop the killing game just ended up starting it.
(It was all useless.)
Gonta, Tenko, and Kaito. All getting into fighting positions against the robots. There’s no way they’ll win.
(They’re so kind, she thinks. This is why she killed for them.)
She shuts her eyes. Takes a deep breath.
“Everyone, stop! Please...just stop. I’ve already prepared myself.”
(One last lie.)
And then it’s over.
She’s dragged away from the rest of them, and she wishes time would stop, wishes time would go back and wishes time wasn’t so cruel.
She wishes she could send them off with a smile. But with all the lies and despite all the performances and acts she’s given, she can’t manage one. All she can do is make a face of pain.
(Pathetic.)
It’s getting harder to breathe.
It’s getting harder to see.
(Is that because of the tears or the rope?)
I’m sorry, everyone. She thinks. Takes in everyone’s blurred faces, everyone unmoving, too scared. Taking it in; her sorry performance, her closing act.
Kaede Akamatsu dies.
Cruel, disgusting, horrid. Body, unrecovered and crushed.
(Somewhere in the audience the mastermind laughs, the mastermind cackles to herself. All according to plan.)