Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Day 0
Time Unknown

“Kiibo?! What’s happening?!”

Saihara’s voice was distant. Too distant. Kiibo could see his lips moving and the panic on his face, but he sounded so far away.

“Kiibo! Get a hold of yourself!”

Yumeno’s voice echoed around the trial room. It had been a while since Kiibo had heard her scream like that. Not since Chabashira’s death anyway.

“I... I’m sorry. I can barely... control it. Looks like... this is the end.”

His own voice this time, though he barely recognized it. He sounded garbled, like he was underwater. He could feel the outside world dragging him back down, beneath the surface.

“Forgive me. I... could not fight with you until the end.”

Saihara’s eyes were searching him for answers. But Kiibo didn’t know if he had much left to give.

“Your choice is not wrong. The real enemy is... the outside world who is enjoying this... killing game.”

Everything was becoming enveloped in a blanket of static. But for some reason, as his eyes surveyed the faces of his departed classmates, Kiibo was hit with a tinge of regret. Regret for what? Surely, his death would help to end the killing game. His friends who had died could finally rest in peace.

“So please...”

Kiibo’s gaze lingered on one portrait in particular. A red X obscured a grinning face that Kiibo suddenly realized he would never see again.

So that’s what it was.

“Use me t-to...”

Though he had cared for everyone, there was one specific person he had always wanted to save. To understand.

“To change... the... world....”

As Kiibo felt his consciousness slip away, he silently wished for one more chance. A chance to make things right.

And then, with the cries of his classmates drowned in static, Kiibo’s world went dark.

Day 1
Time Unknown

*BANG*

Kiibo’s eyes fluttered open, a loud noise waking him from sleep mode. He was faintly aware of a dull throbbing at the back of his head as he attempted to adjust to the surrounding darkness.

Darkness?

Any remaining drowsiness vanished from Kiibo’s mind. Why on earth was it so dark? He clearly wasn’t in sleep mode anymore. Perhaps there was a malfunction with his sight? But the professor hadn’t found anything wrong during maintenance. Kiibo brought a hand up to check the area around his eyes.

*clunk*

His arm had barely moved from his side when it smacked against a metal wall. Kiibo could feel his circuits beginning to heat up in alarm. A quick search of his surroundings revealed that there was not one metal wall, but four. A box. He was trapped inside a tall, yet narrow metal box.

Kiibo wouldn’t necessarily call himself claustrophobic. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if claustrophobia was something that he could be programmed with. But nevertheless, panic was quickly starting to set in. How had he even gotten trapped in the first place? The last thing he remembered was entering sleep mode back at the professor’s lab and-

*BANG*

Kiibo froze, his gaze shifting to the wall on his left. Surely he hadn’t imagined that...

*BANG CRASH*

Kiibo shot his hands out, steadying himself as the world began to shake violently. Nope. Definitely not imagining things. Several more crashes and bangs followed. And then, as suddenly as they had started, the noises stopped.

Kiibo cautiously lowered his arms, half expecting the rattling to pick up again. When it didn’t, he let out a sigh of relief. Whatever had caused the racket seemed to have passed, probably taking any danger along with it.

No sooner had this thought crossed Kiibo’s mind when his vision was flooded with light and the ground seemed to give out beneath him.

“Whoa!”

Kiibo heard someone yelp in surprise as he stumbled forward, unable to regain his balance before his face collided with the floor.

“Uuuugh,” Kiibo groaned, screwing his eyes shut as pain coursed up and down his body. With how things seemed to be going, he’d likely managed to dent something as well. Fantastic.

Kiibo lay face down on the ground, contemplating the benefits of just going back into sleep mode, when he became aware of something poking against his cheek.

“Hey. Hey. Are you dead? That was a pretty crazy fall, I gotta say. But it’d be lame if you died just from that.”

Kiibo scrunched his face up even more. This was not happening.

“Come on, I know you can hear me. Unless you really are dead. Oh! If you are, can I keep your body? I promise I won’t do anything weird to it. I mean, I probably won’t. It’s not like I’ve had much experience with-”

Kiibo shoved himself upward by the elbows.

“Would you please shut up?!”

A pair of wide purple eyes stared back at him. They blinked once, twice, before Kiibo processed that he was staring someone VERY closely in the face.

Kiibo shot up into a sitting position, scurrying backward until he collided hard with the wall behind him.

“Ow...”

The person sitting in front of him blinked again before a smile spread across their face and they erupted into laughter.

“What the heck?! What kind of reaction was that?!” the stranger cackled, already wiping tears from their eyes.

Kiibo ran a hand down his face, beginning to feel the onset of a very bad headache.

The purple eyes apparently belonged to a short, pale boy sitting cross-legged a small distance from Kiibo. He was dressed in all white, save for a checkerboard-patterned scarf wrapped around his neck. Black hair fell loosely around his ears, the strands bouncing as he snickered.

As he looked past the laughing stranger, Kiibo was finally able to take full stock of their surroundings. They appeared to be in a small classroom, judging by the rows of desks behind them. A glowing board on the front wall cast the room in a faint bluish light. And what Kiibo had first taken to be a metal box turned out to be nothing more than an ordinary locker. Did that mean he had woken up inside the locker? There seemed to be two of them, fitted together. Did the other boy come out of the locker next to his?

Kiibo was shaken from his thoughts by a particularly loud chuckle, and he refocused on the stranger in front of him.

“I fail to see what is so amusing.”

“You, obviously.” The boy turned his purple gaze toward Kiibo, leaning forward to jab a finger in his face. Kiibo swatted it away.

“Please don’t be ridiculous. For your information, I could have been injured-”

“Whoa! What’s up with all of the weird lights around your neck?”

Kiibo looked down to find the circuits around his neck being prodded at.

“Hey! Be careful with that!” Kiibo shoved the boy off of him, his defenses beginning to rise. But if the purple-eyed menace could sense his annoyance, he showed no sign of it, the grin on his face only growing wider.

“Aw, come on. It’s not like I was gonna break anything,” the boy whined, crawling forward to insert himself back in Kiibo’s personal space. “But you know, if you’re gonna act all secretive, then you HAVE to tell me what’s up with the flashing lights.” He tapped his chin, as if giving this serious consideration. “Do they give you special powers? Your clothes ARE pretty weird. Maybe there’s a jet pack hidden in there somewhere?”

Kiibo screwed his eyes shut again. What was it that the professor said to do in situations like this? Calm breaths. In and out.

A finger poked his cheek.

“What, are you gonna ignore me now? That’s pretty rude, you know.”

Kiibo slowly peeled his eyes open, his gaze filling with purple. Why in the world was this person always so CLOSE?

“If I tell you, will you please stop talking?”

The purple eyes blinked again before the boy finally pulled his face away and raised an eyebrow. “I gueeeess that could be arranged.”

Kiibo sighed. “If you must know, these circuits are a part of my body. As the Ultimate Robot, they are necessary for my functions to-”

“Wait, wait, wait. Back up.”

“What is it?”

“You’re a robot?! For real?!” The strange boy leaned forward again, his eyes blown wide.

“Er, yes? What about it?”

Before Kiibo could process what was happening, he was roughly yanked to his feet, the shorter boy tugging his arm forward to inspect it.

“You’re actually a robot?! You look like a real person! How much did it even cost to make you?! Oh! If I push this will you transform into something cool?”

Kiibo snatched his arm away from the shorter boy’s grasp, backing away a little.

“I am not an object for you to examine! I have a name, you know!”

The other boy tilted his head. “Oh? If you have a name, you should have mentioned it. How was I supposed to know?”

Kiibo frowned. He felt like arguing, but he supposed that was a fair point. “I’m known as K1-B0,” he explained. “Although you may address me as Kiibo. I’m the Ultimate Robot, as you are already aware.”

“Hmm. Kiibo, huh?” The shorter boy tapped his chin again, his eyes still wide. He reminded Kiibo of an overly-curious child. “Still, just because you have a name, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a machine!”

Kiibo was starting to regret having revealed his talent.

“Those remarks are robophobic!” he grumbled. “I’ll have you know that I am a normal person, the same as you!”

“Oh? But you don’t know anything about me. Isn’t it a bit hasty to assume that I’m some normal person?”

Kiibo paused. “Are you not? You appear to be the same age as me. It seemed like the most logical conclusion.”

The other boy grinned, wagging a finger in Kiibo’s direction. “You’re talking to the one and only Ouma Kokichi, the Ultimate Supreme Leader! You’re lucky that I didn’t have my organization turn you into scrap metal for your ignorance!”

Ouma... Well, at least the purple-eyed menace had a name now. But if what he said was true...

“You... wouldn’t really do something like that, would you? Robot or not, such an action could be considered a serious threat!”

“Nishishi~ Well, that’s fine because I was only kidding.”

Kiibo narrowed his eyes, but Ouma’s expression remained as cheerful as ever.

“So you were lying about being the... leader of some organization?”

"Nope! That part's all true!" Ouma snickered. "Well, no one from my organization is actually here, but they could totally turn you into aluminum strips if they were!”

“Excuse me?! I am the culmination of Professor Idabashi’s robotics work! Not a toy made of such cheap material!”

“In that case, you’ll let me check just to be sure, right?”

Kiibo sputtered, pulling his arm away from Ouma’s hands again. “I most certainly will not!”

Ouma pouted and made a lunge for Kiibo, who quickly fled to the other side of the room, placing a row of desks between the two of them.

“Aw, no fair!” Ouma whined. “You promised that you’d let me inspect you!”

“I made no such promises! Weren’t you the one who said you’d stop talking if I explained things?”

“But that was so obviously a lie!” Ouma replied, a grin reappearing on his face as he scurried around the row of desks. “And you fell for it, so the rules say you have to stand still and let me inspect you!”

“Wha- There is no such rule!” Kiibo backed away toward the wall. Ouma was surprisingly more agile than he had expected.

Ouma hopped over one of the desks in his way. “There is now! Or maybe I just made it up and you weren’t paying attention!”

Kiibo was beginning to fear for both his safety and his sanity. “Either way, please stop! I forbid you from coming any closer to me!”

Ouma’s smile widened. “Aww come on! Just let me touch your body a little bit! I’ve always wanted to be friends with a robot!”

“What? A robot?!”

Kiibo and Ouma both froze. Apparently, they had been too distracted by their bickering to notice that the door had opened and two people had walked in. The one who had just spoken, a blond girl with music-note clips in her hair, looked between Kiibo and Ouma in shock.

Kiibo frowned, his circuits still on overdrive. “W-What is it? Are you another robophobe? I have a recording function. If you make any robophobic remarks, I will see you in court!”

The girl just stared at him, her eye wide. “You’re a robot? You’re, for reals, a robot?!”

Kiibo stole a glance to the side, making sure that Ouma wasn’t still attempting to chase after him. But the other boy seemed to have taken a keen interest in the newcomers, looking both of them up and down with eager eyes. Which meant Kiibo was safe. For now at least.

Kiibo turned his attention back to the girl, who still had the same shocked expression on her face.

“I am K1-B0, the Ultimate Robot,” he explained. “But please, address me as Kiibo.” He silently wondered if this introduction-making was going to become a trend.

“Ultimate Robot...” the girl mumbled, her gaze turning thoughtful.

All of a sudden, Kiibo found himself being shoved out of the way. “That’s not fair! You can’t be the only one who gets to show off!” Ouma exclaimed, taking Kiibo’s place as the latter stumbled backwards and nearly toppled over. Ouma had been on the opposite side of the room a second ago. How did he even manage to move so quickly? Not that Kiibo was really sure he wanted to know the answer.

The pair, who introduced themselves as Akamatsu Kaede and Saihara Shuichi, listened as Ouma give a long spiel about some secret organization with thousands of members. By the looks on their faces, they seemed to believe the nonsense about as much as Kiibo did. He decided they couldn’t be all that bad.

After some exchanged introductions and thoughts about their situation, Akamatsu and Saihara excused themselves to continue their investigation of the school. They had invited Kiibo along, but he’d declined, not wanting to intrude. There was something about the way the two of them worked together that struck him as bittersweet. Though he couldn’t, for the life of him, place why.

After watching the pair leave, Kiibo turned his attention back to the problem at hand.

“Ouma, if you’re going to insist on annoying me further, could it at least wait until AFTER I make sense of all of this?”

He waited for an answer, but none came. When he looked around the room, he realized that Ouma had disappeared.

Kiibo stared at the empty classroom, confused. Ouma had clearly been standing next to him before Akamatsu and Saihara had left. It was possible that he’d skipped out of the room to follow them, but then again he’d also turned down their earlier invitation. Kiibo was half worried that Ouma was lying in wait somewhere to startle him. But if that was the case, he would have likely acted already.

Sighing, Kiibo sat down at one of the desks and his eyes wandered toward the lockers. Ouma was the first person he had woken up to, and yet Kiibo couldn’t make heads or tails of him. The other boy got on his nerves, that was for sure, and Kiibo was relieved to finally have him out of his personal space. But he couldn’t help feeling like there was something he was missing. Something important.

Kiibo shook the thought from his head. There were too many things to worry about at the moment. That one would just have to wait until later.

Day 1
Nighttime

“You can’t escape to the outside world. As long as we have the power of the Exisals, you can’t defy us.” Monokuma’s eyes glinted as he surveyed the group of students on the gym floor below him. “In other words... I hold the power of life and death over each and every one of you!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me! Why would friends kill each other?!” Chabashira cried, her voice echoing feebly off the gym walls. It made the room around them feel larger than it already was. Like any second it could swallow them whole.

Monokuma tilted his head, an action that should have been endearing but instead sent a chill up Kiibo’s spine. “Friends? Who said you guys are friends?” He paused, letting the words sink in. “You guys aren’t friends at all. You’re enemies out to kill each other!”

“I don’t want to be in a killing game.” Saihara spoke this time, his voice seeming louder than it should have been. “It’s wrong. I... I’d never do that.”

Monokuma’s laughter washed over them like a wave. “Well, if you don’t want to participate in the killing game, that’s gonna be a problem. Cause the killing game is the only reason you’re here!”

-

“The only reason we’re here...”

Kiibo groaned, placing his head in his hands and letting the day’s events filter though his memory. Meeting the other students at the academy, the announcement of the killing game, their failed attempts to escape through the underground tunnel... Kiibo wasn’t built to take large amounts of strain, but he was still keenly aware that he’d never felt so sore in his life.

There was a faint rustle in the distance and Kiibo raised his eyes to scan the empty courtyard. Still no one around, as far as he could tell. Not that he expected anyone to be out at this hour anyway. Most of the other students had gone straight to their rooms after the events in the tunnel. Kiibo felt a pang when he remembered the look on Akamatsu’s face, her bubbly demeanor from that morning replaced by a clear expression of defeat.

Several hours had passed since then, and the courtyard was now empty except for Kiibo. He hadn’t meant to be out so late, but after lying awake and staring at his bedroom ceiling, he’d decided that the night air might do him some good. Though in the end, he’d just wound up sitting on the benches at the far side of the courtyard, watching as the flowers of the wooden arbor swayed gently above him.

It would have been nice if Kiibo could fall asleep naturally like the others. He wasn’t in need of charging, even after everything that had happened during the day. And something was stopping him from simply switching into sleep mode. Maybe it felt like he was running away. Turning off a world that he had no desire to be in. Even if staying awake offered no better alternatives.

Kiibo slapped his hands against his cheeks. This couldn’t be happening. It was insane. Like something out of the world’s most horrible fairy tale. Or nightmares that were only supposed to happen after a long day of inspections and... He slapped his face again.

“You know, if you keep doing that, your face is gonna be red forever.”

Kiibo screamed, falling from his perch on the bench and smacking his head on the concrete below. This was immediately accompanied by a shout and a loud thud that should have been too close for comfort. That is, if Kiibo hadn’t been too busy hissing in pain to pay much attention to it.

Kiibo remained face up on the ground for what felt like ages, eyes screwed shut and hands clutching the back of his head. He let out a shaky breath when the the ringing in his brain finally subsided. Though what remained was an odd feeling of deja vu...

“I’m beginning to think that this is how robots normally greet people. Or maybe I’m just special.”

“GAH!”

Kiibo bolted upright and smacked his forehead into something, or someone, else. Said someone responded with a weary groan.

“Ugh... As much as I appreciate your stunning reactions, you really gotta stop doing that. One of us is gonna end up with a concussion, and it’s probably gonna be me.”

Kiibo forced his eyes open and his vision filled with deep purple. Ah.

“Judging from the look on your face, I take it you’re not too happy to see me.”

“What do you want, Ouma?”

“Aw, don’t be like that. I just wanted to check up on my favorite robot, that’s all.”

Ouma was hovering directly above him, an amused smile across his lips, though it was a little hard to tell with just how CLOSE he seemed to insist on being. Kiibo could barely make out a haze of lilac flowers above them, framing Ouma’s dark hair against the night sky.

Kiibo coughed, hoping that his staring wasn’t going to become a habit, and Ouma shuffled backwards, allowing him room to sit up.

“You do realize that it’s nearly three in the morning, yes?”

Ouma wagged a finger at him. “So? It’s never too late to pay a visit to a friend.”

“I hardly think we know each other well enough for you to call me a friend.”

“You don’t think I’m your friend?” Ouma sniffed, an exaggerated expression of shock on his face. “Even after everything we’ve been though?”

Kiibo frowned. “Well, I don’t exactly think we-”

“How mean! No one wants to be friends with me, and now I’ve even been rejected by a robot!” Tears had already begun to well in Ouma’s eyes. Kiibo still hadn’t figured out how he managed to do that.

“I... I didn’t say that exactly-”

“So does that make us enemies then?”

Kiibo froze as Ouma’s tears were replaced by a blank expression that didn’t seem to fit the other boy at all. Monokuma’s previous words rang crystal clear in Kiibo’s memory.

He was vaguely aware of how close they were sitting. And the fact that he should have been afraid but wasn’t.

He took a deep breath. “You’re not my enemy, Ouma.”

Ouma blinked without responding, the silence dragging on until Kiibo began to worry that he had broken something fragile between them. But then a smile appeared on Ouma’s face.

“Nishishi~ You’re so serious, Kiiboy! You had me going for a second there!”

Kiibo gawked as the other boy cackled at him, casually leaning back against the bench but refusing to get up from the ground.

“Y...You...” Kiibo stumbled for words.

“Me?”

“You... Why would you...”

“What? Did you think I was here to kill you-”

“No!”

It was Ouma’s turn to stare, the cocky smile dropping from his face.

Kiibo jabbed an accusing finger at him, words finally forming correctly in his head. “Why did you just start laughing?! I thought you were being serious!”

“Oh? Then you still have a lot to learn about human behavior, Kiiboy.” Ouma pointedly turned his face away.

“You of all people have no place to tell me that,” Kiibo grumbled. “You are by far the most confusing person here!”

“Maybe I like it that way,” Ouma said with a shrug. “It keeps people guessing, ya know.”

“Is that really the best attitude to adopt in a situation like this? There is enough tension in this group as it is without-”

“Without me making it worse?”

Kiibo frowned. Ouma was still looking somewhere off in the distance. Kiibo didn’t think there was anything particularly interesting to look at, other than the huge wall that surrounded them. He decided not to question it.

“As I was saying, there is already enough tension without you potentially endangering yourself more than necessary.”

Ouma finally turned back around, the expression on his face unreadable. He didn’t give Kiibo much time to think about it though, as it was immediately replaced by a cheeky grin.

“Aww, is Kiiboy actually worried about me? How sweet.”

“Of course I’m worried. It would be... saddening if any one of us was to die.”

“So robots can actually feel sadness, huh? I guess you’re not such a mindless bucket of bolts after all!”

Kiibo sputtered as Ouma launched into snickering again. “That’s... Ouma, I was being serious!”

“You’re way too serious, if you ask me.”

“You-”

“But ya know,” Ouma got up from the ground, lightly dusting off his pants. “If you keep being so trusting with people like me, it’s gonna come back to bite you.”

Kiibo stared up at the other boy from his seat on the ground. Despite the angle from which Kiibo was looking at him, Ouma seemed surprisingly small, his back silhouetted by the wide expanse of the night sky.

“I... wouldn’t say that I trust you,” Kiibo finally replied, struggling to find the correct words. “Not particularly. However, I don’t yet have a reason to distrust you either.”

Ouma was silent for so long that Kiibo began to worry the other boy hadn’t heard him. But then he heard a small chuckle.

“You really are weird.”

“What-”

“See you tomorrow, Kiiboy! Don’t oversleep!”

“Don’t call me that!”

Ouma laughed again, waving as he made his way back to the dorms. When he was gone, Kiibo sighed and let his head fall against the bench behind him with a thud.

“What the heck was that all about?” he asked, as if expecting the lilac flowers above him to respond. He felt like he understood Ouma even less than he had that morning. As if everything about the so-called killing game wasn’t enough to worry about. But still... he got the odd sense that the tension he’d been carrying from the day’s events had vanished. Was that Ouma’s doing? Or something else?

The flowers gave him no answers.

Day 2
Time Unknown

“Why are you doing this?”

Ouma’s vision blurred, the entire world stained a hazy green save for a single, brilliant splotch of red.

“I don’t understand... anything... you’re saying...”

Pain laced up and down his arm, so bad it made his head spin. He tried to make it go away and his hand touched something warm and sticky.

“You already know... it’s all meaningless...”

Blood. There was blood running down his arm.

“Do you really... love killing that much?”

It hurt. Everything was green and red and blurry and he felt sick.

“You asshole!”

He was going to die.

-

Ouma bolted upright, gasping for air as he attempted to take in his surroundings. A small room with black and white walls. A bed with red sheets that he’d been holding in a death grip. An obnoxiously large monitor in the far corner, which had apparently finished some kind of announcement, as it had just clicked off.

Announcement. The school. The killing game. It all came rushing back in a huge, smothering wave. Ouma pulled his legs up to his chest and pressed his forehead against his knees. It was real. Every last bit of it.

It took several minutes of deep breathing for Ouma to return his pulse to a relatively normal level. He wasn’t quite sure why he was so shaken up, other than the obvious. Was it a bad dream? He couldn’t quite remember what had happened in it.

Sighing, he swung his feet over the side of the bed. There was no sense dwelling on it. Sure, maybe everything seemed hopeless at the moment. But if there was anything Ouma was good at, it was finding his way out of hopeless situations.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Ouma began to rummage through the closet on the opposite side of his room. He quickly found that it contained several copies of his black and white outfit, each complete with a checkerboard scarf. He made a face. Whoever set this whole thing up had absolutely no appreciation for variance. Not that he disliked his outfit. He’d specifically picked it out himself. But there was something about seeing twenty or so exact copies of his clothing that felt... odd.

“It’s like we’re dolls,” he mumbled bitterly. That’s exactly what it was. Although, it wasn’t like twenty of the same outfit would last them forever. Was there even a place to do laundry around here? Or maybe they weren’t even supposed to last that long.

Ouma closed the door with a heavy thud.

After digging around in his room and finding nothing remotely useful (save for a toothbrush, a notepad, and a couple of permanent markers, but he had doubts that they’d be of much use), Ouma plopped back down on his bed with a yawn. It took him less than a second to remember why he was so tired.

Ouma gingerly touched the spot on his forehead where Kiibo had headbutted him the night before. He wondered if it would bruise. When he was younger, people used to tell him that he had a thick skull, though he wasn’t sure if they meant it figuratively or literally. At least if it did bruise, it would be one more thing that he could bother the robot about.

There was something intriguing about Kiibo that Ouma couldn’t quite place. Other than the obvious fact that he was a robot. Not that Kiibo being a robot WASN’T interesting. But there was something else that made Ouma want to keep going back to mess with him. The others definitely gave him reactions whenever he tried to press their buttons. Watching Momota get all defensive about his pride was borderline hilarious. And he could already tell that Akamatsu held huge potential as a leader, if perhaps she could be pushed in just the right ways. Amami and Saihara stood out for their own reasons as well. And yet he still couldn’t place what exactly drew him to Kiibo.

Ouma smiled as he opened his door to head for the dining hall. Maybe there were things to look forward to in this place after all.

Day 2
Morning

“But you know, if there’s no final boss, that means the killing game has been canceled!”

Ouma surveyed the faces of his classmates. A moment ago, they’d all been in shock, both from the sudden motive reveal and Monokuma’s supposed “death.” But as they each took in what he had just said, a mixture of hope, doubt, and confusion began to cross their faces. Perfect.

“I don’t think so,” Amami’s voice cut through the silence. “Monokuma’s just a robot. There has to be someone controlling him.”

Ouma spun on his heel to face his classmate. Amami, the man of mystery. Always hiding behind a layer of caution, yet one of the least likely to ever lose his cool. Ouma was beginning to like him more and more.

“Don’t be such a worrywart!” he quipped. “Everything’s definitely over now. After all, with the mastermind gone, this killing game is pretty much impossible.”

Amami’s gaze searched him, but he didn’t question any further. Not that Ouma intended to give him an explanation. Not yet at least.

Most of the others, however, seemed to cling to Ouma’s words like a lifeline.

“So... we’re not in danger anymore?” Chabashira asked, anxiously glancing around the room.

Shirogane shook her head. “Do we just wait for the shuttle bus to pick us up, or...?” Ouma couldn’t decide if she was really that dumb or if she had just gotten good at covering her nerves.

These types of reactions were to be expected, of course, especially given the situation they were in. And on one hand, Ouma knew that feeding the group blind hope could be dangerous. But on the other...

“Wait a minute! We don’t know that yet!”

Bingo.

Ouma turned to face Akamatsu, his lips forming into a pout. “Quit being a buzzkill, Akamatsu! Everyone’s still upset about what you did yesterday!”

The shock on Akamatsu’s face was as clear as day. “But I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Don’t tell me you wanna take on the underground passage again?!” Iruma’s voice was shrill, hiding her obvious apprehension. Ouma made a mental note to deal with her later.

“Quiet. We know it’s impossible,” Harukawa added. Ouma wasn’t exactly thrilled that she was agreeing with him. But he supposed he couldn’t be picky at the moment. Whatever got the job done.

“Sorry...” Akamatsu hugged her arms against her body. A habit that she apparently did whenever she was unsure or hurt. Ouma noticed that she’d been doing it more ever since the tunnel the night before.

Ouma formed his expression into a smile. “Well, whatever. It looks like we’re done here. What a relief!” He looked from Akamatsu to Saihara, both of their faces downcast. Neither of them said a word. The others fidgeted in their seats, the hopeful atmosphere of a moment ago dissolving into an awkward silence. Even Kiibo, who had challenged Ouma’s words towards Akamatsu earlier that morning, seemed unsure of what to say. Though Ouma couldn’t entirely blame him. Or any of them, for that matter. Not with the way that he’d set things up.

And just like that, the group went their separate ways, tension hanging in the air even after they’d all left the dining hall. Only Ouma lingered behind, his fingers lightly drumming out a melody on the dining room table.

They were easy. Almost embarrassingly so. And ever so slowly, Ouma was beginning to form his strategy towards each of them. Of course, things were up in the air now, with Monokuma supposedly being “dead.” But Ouma was sure that the annoying bear would be back before they got a chance to miss him. How they were supposed to get out of here, he wasn’t quite sure about yet. But he figured that with time, and maybe a bit of extra prodding on his part, they were bound to come up with a solution.

Day 2
Afternoon

The storage room across from the dining hall held just about everything that one could desire. And yet, to Ouma, it also seemed to hold a whole lot of nothing. Letting out a sigh, he placed a can of “Monokuma’s Baked Beans” back on a shelf next to a gaudy looking lampshade. The variety of knickknacks might be useful if someone was planning the world’s worst science fair. But when it came to things that could actually help them escape, he’d pretty much come up empty.

Ouma was still staring forlornly at the can of beans when he heard the storage room door open and close behind him. It didn’t take long for him to figure out who the visitor was.

“That was a pretty good show you put on this morning.”

Ouma spun around, flashing the person a convincing smile. “My dear Amami, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Amami just frowned at him. “We both know you’re not that dumb, Ouma. Just what are you playing at?”

Ouma shrugged, going back to his investigation of the shelf in front of him. He picked up a box of something blue and goopy before quickly putting it back. “Is it so wrong for me to be excited that Monokuma’s gone?”

“That doesn’t mean the mastermind-”

“Oh, I know. The real mastermind’s still hiding somewhere. Haven’t quite figured out where though.”

Amami paused. “So you were bluffing.”

“I AM a liar," Ouma pointed out. "You should know better by now.”

Amami seemed to consider this before shaking his head and walking over to thumb through the items on a different shelf. “You’re a really strange guy, you know that?”

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

“Only if you’ll explain what you’re up to.”

Ouma wagged a finger at him. “Do you really think you’re trustworthy enough for me to spill my secrets? You haven’t even bought me dinner yet.”

Amami raised an eyebrow. “Dinner with you sounds like a disaster."

“Come on, we’ve eaten together, what, once now?”

“You gonna ask me out after the first date?”

Ouma put a hand to his chest in mock disbelief. “I would never!” He grinned. “Take me on a second date and I’d consider it.”

Amami let out a chuckle. “Not on your life.”

“I take offense to that,” Ouma replied, leaning against the shelves with one hand on his hip. “You’re just afraid you couldn’t handle me.”

“Honestly, I don’t think there’s a person alive who could handle you.”

“You’ve known me for like a day!”

“My statement still stands.”

Ouma pouted, turning back to his shelf. It was odd. He hadn’t exactly expected Amami to be angry with him. The guy was too easy-going to be seriously upset. But he certainly hadn’t expected conversation with him to be quite this... easy. Perhaps there were still things about the mystery man that he hadn’t figured out.

Amami made a face as he pulled out a cup with pictures the Monokubs plastered all over it.

Ouma suppressed a laugh as curiosity got the better of him. “What are you looking for anyway?”

Amami sighed, placing the cup back where it belonged. “Rhinestones.”

It was Ouma’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you for the glitzy type, Amami. Maybe I really should ask you to take me out to dinner.”

Amami gave him an unimpressed look before going back to the shelf. “They’re not for me. I wanted to give them to Akamatsu.”

“Oooh. Glitzy AND forward. You’re just full of surprises.”

Amami shrugged. “Stuff like this lets people take their minds off things. Whatever helps, you know?”

Ouma frowned, the shelf next to him thoroughly forgotten. If Amami noticed him staring, he didn’t seem to mind.

“I don’t think anyone really believes we’re getting out of here so easily,” Amami continued. “Not anytime soon at least.”

“I dunno. Some of the people here seem pretty dumb to me.”

“And you still went out of your way to give them something to look forward to. Or maybe you were hoping they’d fight back a little harder?”

Ouma huffed, turning his gaze toward the opposite wall. “You’re pretty dumb yourself if you think that’s what I was doing.”

“Nah, not entirely,” Amami responded, his voice calm. “You wouldn’t have singled out Akamatsu if that’s all you were after.”

“Hm, so is that what your rhinestones are about? Trying to brighten her spirits?”

“Not particularly. It’s just something that came to mind.”

Amami apparently didn’t see a need to clarify any further. And Ouma didn’t really feel like pressing him about it. The two fell into a steady silence, save for small shuffles here and there as Amami occasionally picked up an item and then quickly put it back. Ouma wouldn’t describe it as an awkward silence, yet it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. It was like they had an unspoken agreement about something that neither wanted to acknowledge out loud.

“The mastermind might still be alive. But that doesn’t mean this game can’t end.”

The shuffling stopped as Amami turned to look at him. “You mean if one of us kills someone?”

“You can take it that way if you want.”

Amami paused, seeming to mull over his words. “You sure it’s safe to think that way?”

“Who knows? It might have been another lie.”

“Just like what you said this morning?”

Ouma shrugged. “Someone’s gotta do it. It’d be pretty boring if everyone just stood around and never said what they were thinking.”

“Even if that sets the group apart?”

Ouma finally turned around to face his warehouse companion. “Did it really?”

Amami’s gaze searched him, but Ouma refused to budge. After a moment, Amami shook his head. “You’re heading down a dangerous path, you know that, right?”

Perhaps Amami was right. He most likely was, if Ouma was being honest. But at the moment, there were a few things he considered more important than the potential risk of his actions. He flashed Amami a reassuring smile and placed his hands behind his head. “I don’t think I’ve got much to worry about. Akamatsu’s really more of the protagonist type, don’t you think?”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?”

“Do I? That might be a lie too, after all.”

There was a pause before Amami let out a chuckle. “It’s always lies with you, huh?”

Ouma felt a smile, a real one this time, tug at his lips. “They’re pretty much ingrained in my bloodstream at this point.”

“That actually sounds like disease.”

“It’s all part of what makes me so charming.”

Amami shook his head. “Guess I’ll have to give up on that front then.”

“Please,” Ouma chuckled. “You’re like the most charming person here.”

“Even more than you?”

“Ok, that’s debatable.”

Amami laughed, and unwillingly, Ouma felt his own smile growing wider. There was something oddly familiar about their interactions. They’d never talked much before, no more than they’d probably talked to most of the others. Heck, Ouma still wasn’t sure if he could trust Amami yet. But he realized that he wouldn’t mind having someone to chat with to like this. Amami was right. It did take his mind off things.

Ouma tossed a bag of sparkly stones at Amami, who caught them without batting an eye.

“Whatever you’re gonna make out of those, you’d better save one for me.”

“Only if you plan on having sparkly fingernails for the next few days.”

So that’s what it was. Ouma grinned. “The one and only Amami Rantaro is gonna give me a manicure? That’s even better than you buying me dinner.”

Amami shook his head, still smiling. “Do you actually want me to do your nails?”

“Do you want the truth or a lie?”

“I’m just gonna take that as a yes.”

Ouma snickered, turning back his previous shelf-investigation. He pulled out a box of oddly shaped candies and frowned.

“You know, if you’re looking for something to help with the whole ‘this killing game can still end’ thing, maybe you should start by writing things down?”

Ouma gave Amami the most disappointed face he could muster. “You’re talking about massive, life-changing plans here. You can’t expect me to contain all of my ideas in some pathetic excuse for a notebook.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a giant whiteboard,” Amami countered, not skipping a beat.

Ouma turned his gaze toward the back of the warehouse, where Amami was pointing. Hidden behind a large pile of mats was a beautifully unused whiteboard. Perfect.

“You, my dear mystery man, are a genius.”

Amami laughed. “I’m not even gonna ask if that was a lie or not.”

Ouma flashed him a grin before darting to the back of the warehouse, already trying to figure out how he’d get the thing into his room without people asking questions. Not that he couldn’t come up with something if they did.

Behind him, he heard the warehouse door open with a click, followed by a pause.

“Hey... Ouma?”

Ouma turned around, his hands already full of whiteboard markers. “Hm?”

There was a strange look on Amami’s face, as if he was trying to decide if he should say something or not. It made Ouma apprehensive.

After a moment of silence, Amami just shook his head. “Nah, it’s nothing. Just... don’t go dying on me, kay?”

Something twisted in Ouma’s stomach. He wasn’t quite sure what the feeling was, but he did know that he wanted it gone. He forced a smile onto his face. “Don’t worry. It’s gonna take a lot to get rid of me.”

Amami just smiled before closing the door behind him.

The strange feeling stayed with Ouma for the rest of the day.

Day 4
Evening

Ouma had tried everything. For the past two days, he’d searched the entire school from top to bottom. Everywhere he knew of at least.

Even after Monokuma was “resurrected,” just as Ouma figured he would be. Even after it was revealed that their lives were tied to a time limit. Even after Hoshi had to be convinced out of sacrificing himself to save them. Ouma kept searching for answers.

He’d spent several hours turning the warehouse inside out, with little to show for his efforts other than some cardboard boxes piled in the corner of his bedroom. He’d tailed Saihara around early one morning. After all, if anyone could pick up on some hidden secret of the school, it was him. But the detective had run off to spend time with Akamatsu, and something about seeing the two of them together made Ouma feel nervous. He’d even gone back to the underground tunnel, to see if there was some trick that he could discover on his own. But he’d just ended up back at the entrance with several bruises on his arms and legs.

In the end, he’d come up empty handed.

And now, as the final day of the time limit drew to a close, Ouma was coming to the conclusion that it was impossible. They were trapped with no way out. No way to contact the outside. And no way to stop the inevitable.

Ouma shuffled through the mess of papers on his bed, full of sketches that he’d done of the school, detailing every room, pathway, and item that could possibly have been of use. He pushed them aside and pulled his knees up to his chest.

Was this really how it was going to end? He’d never counted on Momota’s bravado, but even Amami and Akamatsu, for all of their confidence, hadn’t seemed able to do anything. And what about him? Wasn’t he the one who said the killing game could still end? For once in his life, that hadn’t been a lie. At least, he thought it hadn’t. But here he was, curled up on his bed, waiting as the minutes ticked down to 10 pm.

Ouma curled his fingers tighter around his legs. Something about this didn’t feel right. When Monokuma had first announced the killing game, it had seemed complicated. Like someone had put way too much thought into every little rule and detail. But after all of that effort, they were simply supposed to die here? Just like that? It seemed anticlimactic. But then again, why did it even need to be climactic in the first place? Ouma wasn’t sure. And that in itself made him uneasy.

Irritated, Ouma pressed his forehead against his knees and closed his eyes. Why did it matter anyway?

If he’d known things were going to end like this, he would have enjoyed himself a little more, instead of wasting his time searching for some unknown exit that didn’t even exist. Though he supposed that if he got thrown back in time and had to do it all over again, he’d just end up looking for a solution all the same. It’d be a little too hard to resist trying, whether success or failure waited for him in the end.

But right now, all there was left to do was wait.

Five minutes left.

Then four.

Then three.

Two.

One.

Zero.

But the end never came.

When the silence became too much to bear, Ouma looked up and checked the time on his Monopad. It was three minutes past 10 pm. Where was the hoard of Monokumas? He’d assumed that everything would happen all of a sudden. Were they going to kill them one by one? Had they just not gotten to him yet?

Ouma stared at his Monopad in silence for another minute.

And then the monitor in the corner of his room flickered on.

Ouma’s blood ran cold.

A body? Now? But they were all supposed to be dying. Not... not whatever this was.

Slowly, as if he was caught in a trance, Ouma got up from his place on the bed. He had to do this, whether he liked it or not. He tugged on his shoes and tied his scarf around his neck. He couldn’t afford to freak out now. Not when everything was just beginning.

By the time he got to the door, he’d convinced himself that everything was going to be ok.

And then the second he stepped outside, he was greeted by a startled voice.

“Wha- Ouma?!”

Ouma had been so caught up in controlling his thoughts that it took him a moment to realize someone was gripping his shoulders.

“You’re alive! Thank goodness! Did you hear the announcement- Of course you did. You wouldn’t be here other-” The voice paused. “Ouma? Are you alright?”

Ouma shook his head, finally focusing on the person in front of him.

“Kiibo?”

The robot nodded slowly. “Yes, it’s me,” he replied. “Is something wrong? You seem... paler than usual.”

“Why are you here?”

Confusion crossed Kiibo’s face. “I was in my room, waiting for the time limit. And then I heard the announcement just now-” His eyes widened. “Ah! The announcement! We need to get to the library! Quickly!”

Ouma watched as Kiibo let go of his shoulders and hurried toward the stairs. Halfway down, he stopped, obviously realizing that Ouma hadn’t followed him. He turned around, concern clear on his face, and made his way back to where Ouma was standing.

“Can you not walk? I... I do not posses much physical strength, so I do not think it would be wise for me to carry you. Though I will try if I must.”

Ouma stared at him, his thoughts finally catching up.

“What? No. I... I’m fine.”

Kiibo didn’t look convinced. “Are you lying again? You do not look-”

“Kiibo, I said I’m fine!”

Ouma didn’t even realize that he had shouted until he saw Kiibo flinch.

“I...” Kiibo looked at Ouma and then down at his hands. “If you say so. Forgive me for insisting.”

Kiibo turned and made his way back down the stairs. For a brief moment, Ouma was struck with a need to call out to him, to tell him to wait. But when he tried, his voice caught in his throat and all that came out was silence.

Kiibo looked back at him when he reached the front door. “Er, make sure you hurry. I do not know what Monokuma will do if any of us are absent from the library... Um. That’s all.” After an awkward pause, he hurried outside, closing the door behind him with a thud.

It was going to be ok. Everything was going to be ok.

Ouma forced himself to run to the library.

-

“Hey... Ouma?”

“Hm?”

“Nah, it’s nothing. Just... don’t go dying on me, kay?”

-

When Ouma got to the library, his entire world ground to a halt.

It took him a moment to realize it. After shoving his way past his stricken classmates, his eyes followed the splatter on the bookshelf down to the body below. Down to the familiar mop of green hair, matted with blood.

Amami.

Amami was dead.

“What...? This is a lie, right?”

His voice was drowned out by the cries of his classmates. He thought he heard Akamatsu reply to him, but he was having a hard time focusing on anything other than Amami’s body, so he couldn’t be sure.

It was going to be ok.

Everything was going to be ok.

But that was lie. Just like everything else.

Ouma hardly even noticed when Monokuma showed up to give them a speech about investigating the body, going on and on about rules and causes of death and things like that. It was only when the others began to argue that he snapped back to his senses.

It would be ok. It HAD to be ok. If he didn’t make sure of that, they were all going to die.

He forced a smile onto his face.

“Welp, we gotta investigate, right? Let’s get going!”

The others turned to look at him, latching on to where he had driven the conversation. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw concern cross over Kiibo’s face. He decided to ignore him.

It didn’t take long for the group to start fighting, suspicion about the culprit hiding among them already becoming rampant. But, much to Ouma’s surprise, Saihara was the one to step forward and calm them down. Perhaps he had been underestimating the detective. Though, on the other hand, it was becoming very apparent how closely he stuck to Akamatsu. As if her presence alone allowed him to take control of the situation. It made Ouma uneasy, though he wasn’t sure why.

He wanted to get out of here. Out of this place where he had to watch Saihara cling to Akamatsu like a lifeline. Out of this place where, if he looked up just a little too far at the bloodstain on the wall, he could hear Amami’s voice clear in his head.

He needed to escape.

After Monokuma had given them the Monokuma File and they had all agreed to investigate, Ouma saw his chance.

“Hey, sooo.... I don’t care about this mushy stuff, so let’s just get started already. Oh, and try to take this seriously, ok? Our lives are on the line.”

“It takes a lot of mental power to say something like that so cheerfully,” Shirogane said with a sigh.

But Ouma was already halfway to the library’s door.

She had no idea.

-

By the time Ouma stopped to realize where he was walking, his feet had already carried him to school’s entrance hallway.

He let out a bitter laugh. “What am I trying to do? Run away?” Even if he wanted to, it wasn’t like was any place he could go.

“The mastermind might still be alive. But that doesn’t mean this game can’t end.”

“You sure it’s safe to think that way?”

Ouma clenched his hand into a fist. He was stupid. The others had been so full of talk of unity and getting along that he had almost started to believe them. He thought that if they could hold it together just a little bit longer, they could find a way out. But what did they have to show for all of that? They were nowhere closer to finding any answers. And now Amami was dead.

An image of Amami’s lifeless body flashed through Ouma’s mind, his blood splattered on the bookcase behind him.

“Just... don’t go dying on me, kay?”

Ouma put a hand to his mouth. He felt like throwing up.

“You think you can get away with telling me not to die? And then you go and... and...”

And what? Leave him alone? Ouma wasn’t even sure if he considered Amami a friend yet. So why did he feel like something important had been ripped away from him?

Ouma could feel tears beginning to well in his eyes and he furiously wiped at them with his sleeve.

“Ouma? What are you doing out here?”

Ouma stiffened at the sound of Akamatsu’s voice behind him. Shit. Not right now. He scrubbed the tears from his eyes and spun around on his heel, placing yet another smile on his face.

When he saw Akamatsu and Saihara together, a lump caught in his throat. He forced himself to speak through it.

“Oh! Investigating together, are we? You two sure have gotten awfully chummy!”

There was concern on Akamatsu’s face. Concern that he immediately wanted to go away.

“Are you here alone, Ouma?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?”

“We agreed to investigate with at least one other person.”

“Oooh, did we? Well, just because we agreed doesn’t mean we have to do it, right?”

There was something dark in Saihara’s expression. Doubt perhaps? Ouma held his smile.

Akamatsu frowned. “Why would you do something that would make everyone suspicious of you?”

“You’re heading down a dangerous path, you know that, right?”

Stop.

He didn’t want Akamatsu’s concern. He hadn’t wanted Amami’s. But Amami had given it anyway, and now look at where he’d ended up.

Ouma made a decision.

“Cuz I’m an evil supreme leader, remember?” He looked Akamatsu in the eyes. “I’m supposed to be suspicious!”

The concern on Akamatsu’s face turned into confusion. She didn’t say anything else.

“There’s something I wanted to ask you,” Saihara cut in. “What were you doing at the time Amami was killed?”

Doubt still lingered in the detective’s voice. It was unclear whether it was out of defense for Akamatsu, or simply because he was doing his job. Ouma decided he could use it to his advantage.

He flashed Saihara a grin. “Well, to tell you the truth... I was in the library smashing in Amami’s head!” A sick feeling rose in his stomach and he swallowed it back down.

“Hey! Quit screwing around and take this seriously!” The concern had completely vanished from Akamatsu’s face. Good.

“Why? Do I really need to tell you guys what I was doing?” Ouma met her eyes again. “If I give you honest answers now, it’d just make everything boring, right?”

“What are you saying?” Akamatsu’s expression hardened.

“I’m just saying, this is a game. Let’s have some fun with it!”

“This isn’t a game,” Saihara interjected. “Amami was murdered. Our lives are at stake.”

As if Ouma didn’t know that already.

He forced himself to laugh. “Exactly! It’s a game of life or death!”

Saihara gave him a look filled with suspicion before Akamatsu pulled him off to investigate somewhere else. As Ouma watched the pair walk away, the smile finally fell from his face.

He didn’t need their concern. Or their sadness. Or their pity.

What he did need was for them to survive.

“You’re heading down a dangerous path, you know that, right?”

Ouma chuckled bitterly. “I AM a liar, after all. It’s the one thing I’m good at.”

Akamatsu and Saihara had believed his lies. And he had no doubt that he could get the others to believe him just as easily.

Amami would probably disapprove of this decision. But Amami was dead. And Ouma would be damned if he let the same thing happen to anyone else. He was going to do something about this. And if he had to lie to everyone, and to himself, to make that happen... that was just the way it had to be.

Day 4
Night

“You guys better live! Don’t go dying on me now!”

“End this ridiculous killing game, survive, and get the hell out of this place!”

“And then... be friends after you escape, okay? I think you’ll all be the best of friends.”

-

Ouma ran his hands through his hair, pulling out several strands as he did so. In hindsight, he should have seen it coming. With all of her unfailing optimism, Akamatsu should have been way too obvious. And yet... watching her being dragged away, hung from a rope, killed before their eyes... Ouma dug his fingernails into his scalp. He could still hear Saihara’s screams echoing in his memory.

“I don’t think I’ve got much to worry about. Akamatsu’s really more of the protagonist type, don’t you think?”

Everything was falling apart. And it was all happening too fast. In one, single stroke, they’d lost the two most capable people in the group. The two people that Ouma thought he could rely on to hold everyone together.

Akamatsu was supposed to be their leader.

But maybe that had just been one more lie.

Ouma sighed, looking up at the night sky through the glass roof of the school’s greenhouse. Why he’d chosen to come here of all places, he wasn’t sure. Logically it should have reminded him of the trial, and of the execution that followed. But the longer he’d spent pacing in his room, the more apprehensive he’d ended up feeling.

At the very least, it had been quiet. Ouma wasn’t exactly fond of being left alone with his thoughts, but he didn’t think he could face any of the others at the moment. And the greenhouse was the one place he was sure no one would come to.

At least, that’s what he’d assumed.

Ouma had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost didn’t hear the greenhouse door open and close. When he heard footsteps slowly approaching, he froze.

Go away.

Go away.

He kept his eyes glued to the ceiling.

“Ouma?”

Ouma’s heart sank. He knew exactly who that voice belonged to. And it was the last person he wanted to see.

He shut his eyes, cursing in his head. It was too late to get up and leave now. Maybe a lame excuse would have worked on someone else. And even if it didn’t, they’d most likely be too nervous to protest. But something told him that, out of everyone, Kiibo wasn’t about to budge.

A moment of silence passed. Ouma still had his eyes closed, refusing to acknowledge the robot’s presence. He was waiting for Kiibo to ask him any number of questions. What was he doing here? Was he ok? Did he need someone to talk to? Ouma didn’t want to answer any of them.

But, much to Ouma’s surprise, Kiibo didn’t say anything. Instead, he sat down on the edge of the fountain, next to where Ouma himself was sitting. Ouma heard an awkward shuffle of feet, but still Kiibo said nothing.

Growing irritated, Ouma finally turned his head to look at the robot. When he did, he was greeted by a pair of glowing blue eyes staring directly back at him. Something caught in Ouma’s throat.

“W...What?” He wanted to either scoot backwards or push Kiibo far, far away. He didn’t move.

Kiibo studied him before he looked down at his hands, pressing his fingers together. It was a habit that Ouma was starting to take as a sign that he was nervous. “May I... ask you a question?”

Ouma didn’t want to answer any questions. He looked back up at the ceiling. “Even if I say no, you’re just gonna ask anyway.”

Kiibo grumbled something that was too quiet for Ouma to make out. But instead of asking his question, he just fell silent. Ouma wondered if he’d gotten scared and given up. Why come out and ask in the first place if he was just going to clam up? Ouma was beginning to grow irritated again.

“Did you have feelings for Amami?”

Ouma choked. In fact, he would have fallen backwards into the fountain if Kiibo hadn’t shot out a hand to catch him. Not that Ouma noticed, because he was too busy bending over and coughing.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize it was such a personal question!” Kiibo was sputtering. “I shouldn’t have asked! I’m so sorry-”

“What the hell, Kiibo?!”

Kiibo froze next to him, his hands in the air like he was being held at gunpoint. “Excuse me?”

Ouma looked up at him through narrowed eyes. He was still heaving for breath, one hand clutching the front of his shirt. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“What? No! I would never-”

“Then what the heck was that question?”

Kiibo frowned, very obviously processing something in his head. “Was I mistaken?”

“Obviously, you dumb robot.” Ouma wasn’t sure whether he should be annoyed or impressed at Kiibo’s lack of understanding. Mostly, he just wanted to know how he’d come to such a conclusion in the first place.

“But...” Kiibo paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “You did seem attached to him... Perhaps I don’t quite understand humans as well as I thought.”

Ouma frowned. Attached? Sure, he had liked Amami more than he liked a lot of the others, but he didn’t think that alone counted for very much.

“Attached how?”

Kiibo looked at him, a little surprised. He’d probably expected Ouma to snap at him, but at this point, Ouma was more curious than anything else.

“Um, well.” Kiibo pressed his fingers together again. “The way you talked to each other was different than the way you talked to others, for one. It seemed like you both knew something that you weren’t saying aloud.”

“I hope you know that makes no sense at all.”

Kiibo shot him a frustrated look. “I’m trying. It’s difficult to put into words.”

Ouma rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. You said ‘for one.’ What’s the other part?”

“Well... You seemed pretty upset after he died.”

Oh.

“If you’re talking about what happened in the dorms, that was before I knew it was Amami.”

“I know.”

Ouma looked at him in confusion. “Then what are you even talking about?”

There was a pause before Kiibo replied. “You... left the library very quickly, you know.”

So he had noticed. Maybe Kiibo really did understand more than Ouma gave him credit for. Either that, or...

“Were you watching me?”

Kiibo shot his hands up in alarm. “No! I wasn’t spying on you or anything! I just happened to notice-”

“You’re a really bad liar, Kiiboy.”

Kiibo stopped in the middle of his sentence. “I’m sorry...”

“Not like you can take it back now,” Ouma pointed out.

“I know. It’s just... I was worried.”

“What? Did you think I killed him or something?”

Kiibo shook his head. “No, it wasn’t that. I just thought that you were... close to Amami. And then after the way you were acting in the dorms...”

Something tightened in Ouma’s chest. He’d been careless. Sure, he could blame it on the shock of the moment, but he’d let way too much slip in such a short amount of time.

He didn’t need anyone’s concern. Not Amami’s. Not Akamatsu’s. And certainly not Kiibo’s.

“You shouldn’t take everything I say so seriously, Kiiboy.”

Kiibo frowned at him. “What?”

“I mean, come on. Did it ever occur to you that I was lying?”

“You-”

“I AM a liar, you know. I didn’t take you for the gullible type, but jeeze, you really-”

“Why do you keep doing that?”

Ouma turned to look at Kiibo. But instead of frustration, or irritation, or anything else that Ouma had been expecting, he saw only a sad look on the robot’s face.

Ouma ripped his gaze away. “Doing what?”

“Saying things you don’t mean.”

“Why would you do something that would make everyone suspicious of you?”

Stop.

“Because I’m a LIAR, Kiiboy. Jeeze, learn to keep up.”

He had to end this conversation. And fast. If he didn’t, he was bound to say something that he’d regret.

“But you are clearly contradicting yourself,” Kiibo pressed.

“Yeah. That’s the point.”

“But how do you expect anyone to trust you when-”

“Amami and Akamatsu are DEAD, Kiibo. Do you really expect trust to be the first thing on my mind?”

Kiibo’s eyes were wide when Ouma turned to look at him. They held each other’s gaze in silence before Kiibo finally spoke.

“Did you trust Amami?”

Ouma felt like throwing something at him.

“Look, I don’t know, ok. Can we stop with the questions?”

Kiibo frowned, but seemed to consider this. “May I ask one more thing at least?”

Ouma groaned. “Fine. What?”

“Do you trust me?”

I don’t know.

Ouma couldn’t find it in himself to answer.

Silence fell between them after that, neither wanting to push the issue. As Ouma sat looking up at the stars, he was vaguely aware of how easy it was becoming to talk to Kiibo. And that in itself was dangerous.

“I did think Amami was interesting, I’ll admit that much,” he said, getting up from his seat at the edge of the fountain. “But you were still totally off base. I mean, it’s not like we were Saihara and Akamatsu.”

There was an expression on Kiibo’s face that Ouma could only describe as bittersweet. “So you noticed it too.”

“It was pretty obvious, if you ask me.”

Kiibo wrung his hands together. “I feel bad for Saihara. It... must be difficult. To lose someone you care about like that.”

“It’s always tough when people die,” Ouma pointed out. “Besides, it’s not a great idea to get that close to someone in this kinda situation.”

“I doubt that’s something you can control so easily.”

“How do you know?”

“I... suppose I don’t.”

Ouma sighed. “Well, either way, we’ll have plenty of time to get used to it around here.”

“You can’t truly mean that.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’m just lying.”

A strange expression crossed over Kiibo’s face. Ouma wasn’t sure if it was pain or sadness... or a combination of both.

“I don’t believe I ever want to get used to this.”

Ouma realized with a pang that he never wanted to see that expression on Kiibo’s face again. He spun around to march toward the entrance of the greenhouse.

“Let’s hope you won’t have to.”

There was a shuffle as Kiibo stood up behind him. “Ouma, wait-”

But Ouma was already out the door.

-

By the time Ouma made it back to his dorm room, it was well into the night. Of course, he’d walked around the school a bit after he’d left the greenhouse, just to make sure that Kiibo didn’t immediately follow him back to the dorms. But he was pretty sure that most of his exhaustion didn’t actually come from how late it was.

As he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, Ouma silently cursed his luck. It hadn’t even been a few hours since the trial, and already he’d messed up. Why had Kiibo even come to the greenhouse in the first place? He had admitted to keeping an eye on Ouma after they discovered Amami’s body. Did that have something to do with it?

Ouma sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He’d made up his mind about how to act toward the others from now on. But for some reason, he was finding it difficult to lie in front of Kiibo. Perhaps it was because Kiibo was a horrible liar himself. The robot was entirely too honest for his own good.

“Do you trust me?”

Ouma groaned. He hadn’t meant to say much to begin with. So the fact that their conversation had even reached that point was a very bad sign. He dreaded the day when he would actually find an answer to that question. He hoped he never would.

As he rolled over on his bed, his eyes fell on the whiteboard that he’d dragged over from the warehouse. The one Amami had pointed out to him. It had remained untouched as Ouma attempted to dig around the school for answers.

He needed to come up with a plan. He wasn’t exactly sure what, but he knew he needed something.

Slowly, he swung his legs off the bed and went to rummage around in one of his drawers.

Kiibo was right. Well, not entirely. His assumptions were still completely off base, but he had been onto something. Ouma had cared about Amami. He had cared about Akamatsu. He cared about all of them. Whether it was as classmates, as friends, or simply as fellow human beings, Ouma wasn’t sure of yet. But the sentiment remained all the same.

He pulled out a small envelope and several whiteboard markers from his drawer.

If Ouma was honest, he didn’t know if he could save everyone who was left. Monokuma, and the killing game as a whole, were still too far out of his control, at least for the moment. Maybe more of them would die. Maybe they would have to watch these executions once, twice, or even several times more. Maybe it would all be pointless in end. But, at least for the time being, Ouma had made up his mind.

He tacked Amami and Akamatsu’s pictures to the whiteboard.

He was going to end this killing game. No matter what.