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The retrial had commenced. Makoto was surprised he survived his execution at all, really he should’ve died right then. After all, no one is immune to the rules of the killing game. But when he escaped virtually unharmed, he decided that the game was about to get much more interesting. The last of the survivors were more than curious of who the mastermind could be, and since Makoto’s name had been cleared over the murder of Mukuro Ikusaba, there was still much for them to piece together.
“So, have you come to your conclusion?” Monokuma gripped at the stand, Makoto could hear the excitement in the bear’s voice.
“No, w-we need more time!” Hina’s plea slipped from her mouth before she had registered the words.
“Isn’t it obvious? All the clues are right there,” Byakuya sneered, but even Makoto could see the pale color of his skin.
“Monokuma said that the headmaster was dead before the game had begun, and the only people to have walked through these doors was our class. We’ve established Makoto did not kill Mukuro, rather, she had been dead for a long time before.” Kyoko sums up the information, the gears in her head turning as she picked at her gloves.
“Mukuro was half of the ultimate despair, according to her file.” Makoto pitched in, knowing they were going to make their choice soon.
Monokuma must’ve panicked, “So what, that means nothing!” he cried.
Makoto had to try to stop himself from laughing as the conversation furthered. It took them at least a good ten minutes of nonstop debating before it looked like they came to their choice, though they seemed dubious (for good reason too).
“Alright, everyone vote for who you think the blackened will be this time! This will be the last trial, after all, so pick wisely!”
Each student pressed their buttons, the soft click of a death sentence echoing in their subconscious.
“I see..” Monokuma stared at the counter. “You think the mastermind is Junko, huh? All except one of you.”
“Don’t toy with us, Enoshima.” called Byakuya.
“Well I’ll say you aren’t entirely wrong to think it’s Junko, but...” the bear hangs his head.
Toko pulled at her braids, “W-What do you mean?”
“Why don’t you ask your best friend and ‘Ultimate Hope’, Makoto?” He teased.
Smoke filled the room as the sounds of robotic laughter morphed into something human and….girly.
Junko fucking Enoshima in the flesh. Even though they guessed she was alive, the room still gasped at her appearance. Her hair was in the usual high pigtails, but instead of bows, they were Monokumas. Her outfit was about the same, compared to Mukuro’s costume—a little dash of despair and evil here and there to make up the tight jacket a short skirt she had on now.
“Makoto? What nonsense is she talking about?” Byakuya finally asked after a moment, eyes never leaving Junko’s terrifying presence.
He could only giggle in response. Makoto covered his mouth with a hand, muffling the laugher with no success. All eyes were on him in an instant as he lost his composure entirely.
“What nonsense is she talking about?” Makoto mocked, rolling his eyes.
“Uh.. bro you’re scaring me a little bit..” Hiro winces.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that this is really funny,”
“Makoto?” Kyoko looks to him with a raised eyebrow.
“God, I didn’t think it would take this long,” he crossed his arms and sighed, completely content.
“Spit it out already! What is Junko talking about?” Hina was dangerously close to having a full on panic.
“Come on, listen to your good friends,” Junko smiled, “Don’t let them wait in despair any longer y’know,”
“What is she talking about? Sh-she’s the mastermind! S-Sakura was her-her spy and we’re all innocent!” Toko screamed.
“I hate to be a party pooper, but I’m not the mastermind.” Junko twirled her hair around her finger.
“What exactly are you insinuating, Enoshima?” Byakyua’s voice cut deep.
“What’d ya think, sweetie? Take a good look around the room and tell me, did you pick correctly?”
Everyone’s gaze soon drifted to Makoto. He tilted his head in interest, drinking in the shock and horror written in their eyes--in their soul.
“Y-You don’t mean..” Hiro trembled.
“Surprise,” he sang, oddly Monokuma-like.
“No..” Kyoko stepped back from her podium. “This can’t be true.”
“This is… A joke?” Hina’s eyes were wide and unblinking.
Hiro counted his breathing. “It has to be a prank… right, dude?”
“Y-Y-You-- You’re the--”
“You lied to us.” Byakuya looked the most shocked, despite his nearly flat tone. It was like pure bliss to Makoto, watching his “friends” become distraught at his reveal.
“My name is Makoto Naegi. Ultimate Lucky Student and the Ultimate Despair. Also known as the mastermind behind this killing game.”
“But Junko and Mukuro are the Ultimate Despairs.” Hina countered, eyes darting all over as if she were trying to make sense of the new reality by merely looking around.
“Well you’re not wrong.” Junko laughed, pounding the table with her hands. “But do you really think only the two of us could take over the entire world? We each only have half the power as Makoto over here--thus the titles ‘half of the ultimate despair’. He has more despair than I could ever dream of having!”
The room fell silent at this revelation. “Why?” was all Kyoko could whisper.
“Hm? Why am I the mastermind?”
“Why did you betray us?” She turned away, unable to look him in the eyes.
“Hah,” Makoto practically growled. “I was never friends with you.”
He continued, “When we were all classmates--I never liked any of you. In fact, I hated every single person here, dead or alive, besides Junko and Mukuro. I loathed you almost as much as I loathed myself.”
“B-But,” Toko stretched her hand out like she was reaching to Makoto. He forced back a laugh.
“You might not have your memories, but I sure do. I remember every instance. Sometimes I would wake up in a locker, my clothes stained with blood from my nose. Other times, Mukuro found me tied up in a closet, a plastic bag over my head. Every fucking day, I hear jeering insults, backhanded compliments, and for what? Existing?!”
Makoto’s voice had always been kind, full of understanding. He made himself the butt of the joke to lift everyone’s mood after trials or during heavy moments. He was always full of light and hope, but their beacon of joy was gone. His words weren’t laced with anger, no, not at all. His voice was practically dripping with malice. Each syllable bringing more bitterness than the last.
No one dared to make a sound, save for Junko’s soft snickers.
“To answer your question: I wanted to watch you all crumble pathetically. Just like you tried to do with me.”
Makoto Naegi, close friend of Mukuro Ikusaba and Junko Enoshima. At Hope’s Peak Academy, the three were practically inseparable. Their bond grew from their shared central feeling of despair. They were social outcasts afterall. After all, what place do those three have in a school focused on rigorous academics and athletics? The ultimate fashionista, the ultimate soldier, and the ultimate lucky student have no place on the football field, or in a math class. They were practically worthless seeing that their strengths wouldn’t be focused or culminated in any way at the school. Makoto most of all. He had nothing special about him. He was the most pathetic of all, but the twins accepted him nonetheless. They were his only friends.
Sometime down the line, not entirely sure how or when it happened, Makoto, Junko, and Mukuro had devised a plan to create despair. They were sick of being at the bottom of the food chain.
Junko didn’t care if it failed. The same could be said for Mukuro. What they cared for was that overwhelming sense of grief to take over all other feelings. Makoto wanted that too, but most of all, he wanted to watch the world burn.
He tired of jeering insults pouring from the rude, hypocritical students of Hope’s Peak. He was nauseated by the backhanded compliments of teachers. He was done being the victim of everyone’s abuse. Makoto didn’t want to be the last brick of the pyramid. He wanted to be at the top, watching every person on earth suffer the same emptiness he wakes up feeling. He wanted to stand at the highest point of his empire and smile as the world below him died retching on their own sins. Makoto wanted to become a god.
“Alright everyone, it’s punishment time!” He gave a toothy grin to his fellow classmates.
Fear struck their hearts, a cold, terrifying little thing. They voted wrong. Surely, this isn’t how it ends…
“So did you guess correctly?” Junko taunted, holding a Monokuma and pretending she was speaking through him.
“Hmm, let me check.” Makoto tapped his chin with a finger. “You know what? I think they’re all wrong!”
Kyoko grit her teeth while tears dripped from HIna’s eyes. “P-Please… don’t,” Toko breathed.
“No one is immune to the killing game. I could have been disposed of from the start. You are all too pathetic to do something right.” he barked, teeth bared and insanity radiating from his aura.
“Say goodbye to the cameras, everybody! Your fifteen minutes of fame are over.”
There wasn’t enough time for anyone to choke out a sentence. Half shouted nonsense directed to the person they believed was their friend, their ally. The boy slammed his palm flat against a button, shining with bliss as he killed the last few survivors. Makoto wanted to become a god.
And become a god he did.