Chapter Text
It was all over. Six trials of pain, loss, agony, and despair leading up to the destruction of the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles. Rising from the rubble of the prison-like school felled by Kiibo’s sacrifice to take the establishment and its Mastermind down with him, three survivors stood looking towards the outside world. They were finally free; to leave and start anew in a world without a clear fate after far too many seasons of Danganronpa. All that hardship leading to a potentially better ending.
“I guess it’s not important whether it’s a truth or lie,” Himiko guessed, “just what it leads to.”
“Yeah. That’s what I believe,” Shuichi concurred. “We stand with one foot in fiction, and one foot in reality.”
“Then, we need to see for ourselves whether this world has changed the outside world,” Maki added. “And what we can do from this point on.”
“You’re right. We can’t stay in this fictional world forever,” Himiko said. “It’s already over. We gotta take all the experience we learned in this world, and go to the next.”
Shuichi nodded at his remaining friends, then looking back out past the shattered glass dome. “Yeah. Let’s go. We’ll see what this world gained, what it lost, and all—”
Just then, when everything seemed to fall into place and finally offered the key to freedom on a feathered cushion, the world fidgeted and jerked uncontrollably. Beneath Shuichi’s feet, the ground darkened square by square, glitching out like the walls surrounding him and his pair of comrades. Maki to his right looked just as stunned as he had, her form jolting and frazzling until it disappeared from his sight altogether. He made an attempt to reach out for Himiko in hopes of saving her from the same fate, only for her to spasm and vanish right as their hands made contact.
“Maki? Him̶̱͚̪̭̰̩̣͓̺͍̲̣̟͂̇̅̒͆̍̏̄͊̂̾̕ͅỉ̷̢̺̼̹̮̳̙͕͎̺̭̭͇͜ķ̶̡̡̗̪͕͔̑̚͜͝͝͝o̶͓̹̞͍̿́̅̀̚?̷̡̨̲͉̗̟̖͍͖̖̹̹̰̈̋͗͋̽̓̐̃̿̍͂́̍̚͝!̵̡͕̦̗͚̝̑̊͑̓͊̂̔̑̒” Shuichi cried, fingers going to his lips when he’d discovered how distorted he begun sounding. “W̶͓̻͇̗̲̟̩̻͍̣̩̫̅̌͋͐̚h̴̡̨͖̥̤͈̣̭̫͈̞̦̼͗̋͑̂̽͗̌̂̕͠a̸̭̞̺͍͋̅͒̈̉͑͛̚̕̕͜͝ẗ̸͇̼́͐̒͛̊͋̎̏̂͑͝ ̴̢͕̳̮̥̲̝̟̠͎͕̏̊̓͌̈́̎̑͝ͅt̴̡̛̼̥̲͓̖͙̲͕͑̔̂͑̎̓̏̿̕ḣ̷̨͇͎̬̜̞̙̦̙̾e̶̖̗͓͕͓̩̬̞̹͋ͅ-̵̡̢͔̤͎̗̯̪͉͚̤̞͔̀̈̕͜ͅ-̴̢̡̹̦͔̰̬̝̠̦̱̥̗̃̀̿̕͘̕?̷̡͙̘̹̖̻̗͓̖͙̥̳̯̰̱̋̊͑͐͆̿͝ ̶̛̝̖̪̩͇̩͊̃̏̋̎̒̀̕W̵̩̜͖͈̮̝̳̻̺̮̪͍̅̈̌͜͝ẖ̶̢̨̮͔͖̠̎̈́̇̎̅̎͒͋̚͜ą̴̙͓͈̪̺̐ẗ̸̖̭̰̦͈͚̗́̾̔̊͑̉̋͋͂̓̒̀͝'̷̮̉͋̋̓̌͋̑̍̊̆̔̚͝ś̸̛̜͕̲͇̰̪̖̺̭͗͛̚͘̕ ̶̧̨͖̣̮̦̯͇̥̬̠̉̔͜h̶̨̢̡̙̥̗̠͍̤͎̬̳̞̓̂͊͐͊̿̃͜ͅā̶̻͕̘̠͖͔̪̳̖̝͍ͅṗ̷̧̺͈̩̹̙̹̪̬p̷̛̥̄é̸̘͕̣̺̃́͝͝n̵̡̩͙̻̾͂̃̆̇̃̔̄̈́͘ȋ̵͍̈̃̔̃̓̅͑̐̅͝ņ̶̛̞̤͈̣̠͕̭̉̽͗͆̅͛̎̕g̶̨̛̙̣͎̺̪̞̖̖̘̬̮̓̉͘͜͠?̵̨̛͈̗̩̙̰̗̬̱̜̝̗̪̪̓͆͑̽̍̿͋͋͌̕͘͠͝͠!̶̢̧̡͇̫̥̮͚͕͈̭̼̻̰̋”
The anomaly hadn’t yet taken the outside world, so Shuichi ran. One foot pulling the ground after the other in a mad dash to escape, much like that of Kirumi in her final moments of desperation. Every second near stripped away chunks of the universe bit at a time, beginning to infect his body until all that was left was darkness. Without his say, S̶̨̙͇̹̟̥̥̺̫̞͔̗͗͆h̸͍̤͙̋̌̔́̉̍͑̋͆͝u̵̫͉̹̮̲̝̞̖̿̏͛̈́̇̒̆̍̽̒̓̏̈͝͠i̸̧̲̝̹̠̞͔͎̬͇̦͎̠͌ͅc̴̩̩̫̽̌̈́͛̊͂ͅḧ̴̛̹̙̳̺̟̪̘͙̈́͐͐̾͠i̸̢̜̝͖̳͓͎̝̓̈́͆̈́̾́̆͑͒̚ ̷̤̫̻̭̃̄̍̔̏̿̀͐̍̌͘͘r̷̡̧͕̥͍͇̟̍̿͊̂̓̌̓̓̈́̿͋͊͊ḙ̷̡̝̣̦̝̫͈̩̈́̊͒à̴̧͓͔̗͔͉̝͔̙̺̰̜͆̈́͑̿͛͒̈́̈̇̿͝͠c̵̨̪̺͕̪͍̩͒̈̔͂̔̏̚͜ĥ̷͙̬͉͈̖̥̯͇̂̐̆̚ē̸̯͍̩̥̮̞̘͕̱̥̍̒̔̆͗̋̂̓̿͝͝d̴̢̢̨͖͈͎͕̤̜̖̐͛̓̄̉̇͊ͅ ̷̼̻̯̒͂̀͐̉̆̂̎͠ŏ̷̮̬ư̴̲̻̘̩̫̜̗̌̊͊̾̇̽̒t̶̺̲͓̦̠̟͕͈̞͓͚̘̰͜͝ ̸̧̛̛͙̰̯̮̞̂̍͒̂̐̽̃͆͆́̽͠a̶̠̳̥̲̙͙̝̭̻̩̖͐̐́̓͛̅̈́̅̍̆̚͘̕͝n̴̬͋̂̏̒̎̎̃̊̍d̴̢̫̣̙͙̐̌͗̇̐̓̇̿̀̃̋̈́͝
Force Quit Complete
Simulation DR-V3 Over
Deactivating: Simulation Pod 13
Initiating: Emergency Wake Up Procedure
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Subject_13.Shirogane Is Conscious
Pod 13 Has Now Been Opened
Eyelids trembling, Tsumugi pried them open as the cover of her sleeping pod was lifted, sitting up while a hand each grabbed onto two of hers. To her left, a girl in performing attire with long white hair; pulling by the right, a boy with darker hair and brown eyes wearing a red vest and a milder disposition who looked more displeased compared to the worried girl assisting him. Tsumugi had a bad feeling, especially on realizing she wasn’t supposed to be awake just yet unless for emergencies.
“Hoshimi, Michi,” she addressed the other two, fixing her round glasses and removing all the tubes formerly connecting herself and the pod. “Do either of you mind telling me what’s going on? Who forced a wake-up call?!”
“You’re wanted,” Michi said, ignoring his associate’s scolding. “And it’s not good, either.”
“Wanted? By who?”
“The higher ups,” Hoshimi gulped. “Our test audience just finished their evaluation, and you’re needed for a word.”
“It’s done?” Tsumugi beamed. “How did they like how this season will turn out?”
Hoshimi stayed quiet for once, grimacing and reinstating her news. “Why don’t you hear it yourself, Mugi-honey? That’s all I can say right now.”
“It isn’t pretty,” Michi added, helping Tsumugi up the rest of the way and turning her to the exit. “Good luck.”
Oh no, she should have known! With how disastrous Shuichi just had to make what was supposed to be her magnum opus, Tsumugi prepared for the worst coming as she left the Simulation Pod Room. The executives’ office was right upstairs, give or take a few floors higher. A few more doors down and she was there, knocking on the largest entrance before being permitted to enter. When she had, the chairman looked her way with nothing but disappointment, demanding she take a seat right away.
“You wanted to see me, Kataka-san?” Tsumugi wondered.
“...Read these and weep,” Kataka told her, sliding out paper sheets with fine ink printed on each copy. “Our test audience had more than enough to say about our recent season.”
Tsumugi went over each one, gathering a clear verdict. “Wh—?! ‘Unfair narrative’? ‘Wasted potential’? ‘Shit writing’?! The nerve!”
“And that’s not even scratching the surface of what the audience had to say about your little subplot idea regarding Korekiyo Shinguuji.” Kataka handed over another full stack of papers to Tsumugi, who looked horrified at the thought of reading even one of them. “Some of those also have quite a bit of fire with our little protagonist switcheroo.”
“Oh, come on! A bait-and-switch was just what the doctor ordered. And that subplot was genius; who doesn’t like a little forbidden love affair?”
“An incestuous one? On top of him being a serial killer? Where do you think half of those complaints on bad character arcs were coming from?”
“‘Victim of abuse’, ‘unnecessary shock humor’, ‘gross, fucked up excuse of a subplot’, ‘clearly can’t write trauma for crap’.” Tsumugi rolled her eyes. “Whatever. No one knows juicy plot twists if it bit them in the rear.”
“Shirogane-san, these cannot be taken lightly. If the test audience hated the whole thing, how do you think the real public would react if we premiered this? We’d go right under!”
“What am I supposed to do about it? I worked my tail off with this season! It’s my baby!”
“Either you make some serious changes, or we do. To your job. What will it be?”
A blue brow twitched irritably, Tsumugi pushing her glasses up and looking stern at her boss. “...I’m gonna need enough time.”
“We can postpone our premiere date easily, so you’ll have plenty. And while you’re writing up the revision, Abe-san and Dąbrowski-kun will be supervising the entire time.”
“Why? I’m fully capable of writing my own—” Kataka waved some of the papers in front of Tsumugi with a brow raised, shutting her up.
“On my desk as soon as possible, and it’d better sparkle compared to what we saw before.”
Grumbling, Tsumugi took an armful of the complaints and negative reviews on the way out, letting the door slam itself. When she reached to dial up her associates, some of the papers dropped, groaning as she scooped them all up in a hug whilst speaking into the phone pushed up on her shoulder. Danganronpa was her life, her blood, and more importantly, her expertise, and she was getting punished for putting her whole heart into it?! Was Kataka and her so-called test audience crazy?! How ridiculous…
“I’ll meet you and Michi in the conference room,” Tsumugi sighed. “No, it’s not just you and me; the boss wants all three of us. Yeah, I’m just as disappointed as you are! I have to rewrite a whole season of Danganronpa!”
“Among other reasons,” Hoshimi grumbled.
“Work now, date later,” Michi told her. “If we let Miss Mastermind do all the work again, Kataka’s bound to fire us too for not cooperating.”
“She just needs a little writer’s workshop. I know my way around a good show, so I’d be able to lend a helping hand.”
“And I’ll be there to ebb the sea of raging hormones. Plus, clean up whatever mess Tsumugi-san tries coming up with around this time.”
“You worry too much, Michi-chan. A second chance is sometimes all you need to get things right.” Dragging Michi along, Hoshimi went towards the conference room with vigor. “Now, let us help make some magic!”
Well, this was already looking to be a disaster. Hardly an hour into the brainstorming session, and Tsumugi refused to cooperate, much to Hoshimi and Michi’s weary dismay. Ideas pitched with revisions went denied, the Mastermind’s sour mood unwilling to accept anything that would vastly change her ideal show. They could tell so, too, not entirely blaming her, but getting pretty sick of the lack of agreement from her side. Another paper ball flew across the table, stopping on a bed of half-written notes scattered on a polished wood surface.
“Tsumugi-san, this is madness,” Michi exhaled. “At the rate we’re going, we haven’t reached even one compromise.”
“Isn’t there anything you can agree on with changes?” Hoshimi wondered. “We understand your original ideas went south, but doing something new isn’t always a bad thing.”
“Except when you’re basically told to start all over,” Tsumugi hissed. “Too many changes and my vision will be unrecognizable.”
“Kataka-san didn’t say to change all of it.”
“Just most.”
“That doesn’t have to inherently be terrible to do. You can still add your input, but put a different spin on it.”
“And please, dearest, do away with the you-know-what subplot,” Hoshimi pleaded.
“There you go again with it being ‘gross’,” Tsumugi snorted.
“Which it is,” Michi argued. “And since nearly the entire test audience loathed it, it definitely can’t stay in. At least not without us losing our jobs.”
“Fine. No shock value romances, then.”
“Also, there shouldn’t be a character more villainous or despicable than the Mastermind,” Hoshimi advised, batting her eyes flirtatiously at Tsumugi. “Not that you’re either of the sort, Mugi-honey. You’re only playing the part and so well, too.”
“What else has the audience whined about?” Tsumugi asked, paying no heed to Hoshimi’s latter statement. “Kataka-san mentioned something with the protagonists?”
“Oh, right, that too. A lot of people weren’t very happy with the switcheroo twist. Some even wanted Saihara to die instead of Akamatsu.”
“Not that you could call that a twist,” Michi snarked. “I’d say it’s more along the lines of… oh, ‘false advertising’, personally.”
“Okay, genius, what would you do?” Tsumugi quizzed. “Since you think you know so much.”
“To state the obvious, give everyone what they want. But, there are some who loved Saihara-kun’s performance as our hero, so maybe we could find a way of doing both.”
“What? You mean having two protags?”
“If it comes to that. We have all the time in the world to pick something.”
“Alright… what else?”
Hoshimi sprouted an idea, laying out a list containing each contestant and their talent on the other side of the paper. “What if… we changed things up some more? As in, with who has what Ultimate title?”
“You mean switch the talents around? We’d have to rewrite everyone’s characters from scratch if we did that because their backstory relies heavily on who they are as an Ultimate!”
“It wouldn’t be too difficult if we all cooperate,” Michi stated. “And, it’d be a great chance to change the cases a little, as well. If the audience wants something different, then different they shall have.”
“But, that’s too different! I thought we agreed to revise, not turn everything on its head! This is not the vision I had at all.”
“The vision you had was a disaster. We’re practically handing you an opportunity to keep your job on a silver platter, and the only person holding you back is yourself. Don’t be so close-minded and stuck in your ways; try something else on for a change, and we could be successful enough to potentially warrant a 54th season.”
“I understand how upsetting it must be to have your ideas stomped on, but— Michi-chan has a point here,” Hoshimi reluctantly agreed, putting a reassuring hand on Tsumugi that hardly did a thing. “Sometimes in showbiz, you need to make sacrifices when it comes to your career, whether you like it or not.”
“And again, don’t throw away everything in your vision; simply change it up a little. This is all a team effort, which includes you.”
Tsumugi looked at the list of her fellow contestants and all the pre-agreed on talents, wondering of what sort of unknown possibilities that could accompany a new switcheroo. “...Are you sure it’s such a good idea to switch the talents?”
“I don’t see why not,” Hoshimi said. “It’d be refreshing, unexpected, and the show of a lifetime! Definitely a nice change of pace.”
“Well, if you’re saying so. But, it’s gonna take some time to think of new backstories and character arcs. And since we’re swapping around the talents, we might as well change who dies and who doesn’t.”
“Great idea! You’re getting it now. A whole new season right at our fingertips.”
“I’m gonna miss being the Ultimate Cosplayer. Whoever gets my old title better use it well!”
“You’re the anime expert, so you’ll know what to do best for your replacement. And, you get to pick your new title.”
“So, where should we start after that? What do you want to be this time around?” Michi asked.
Tsumugi looked at the list, deviously smiling to both ears while making the first line connecting her to her new talent. “Fits like a glove,” she commented. “Now, let’s take care of some other problems I ran into in the old showing.”
The day finally came with the completion of the 53rd season’s revisions, Tsumugi proudly laying them out with Hoshimi and Michi standing beside her for moral support. Kataka looked over the notes and script using a hawk’s gaze, nodding along to each new turn and revelation with more approval than he had the first time. His eyes squinted a bit surprised at some parts, Tsumugi able to uncross her fingers when her boss’ approval didn’t falter.
“Not bad,” Kataka said. “The first episode looks good so far, and the rest is already shaping up to be a massive improvement. I will say I’m surprised you switched the talents around from the first time.”
“What can I say? You were right to say we needed a change,” Tsumugi responded proudly. “I think this time, the screws will turn in my favor and end a lot better.”
“If they do, you might just get to be in charge of next season.”
“Me? You mean it?! Oh, wait a minute. If I’m getting promoted, then what are you gonna do with…?” One name on the list of contestants caught her eye, more curious than truly concerned.
“After his little performance in the first draft, suffice to say Iidabashi-kun’s services will no longer be needed with Team Danganronpa after this season.”
“Good. That’s exactly what he deserves for tearing down all my hard work. So, are we ready to go now?”
Kataka gave an approving thumbs up. “You look all set to me. With just a little more setup and working out the kinks in the simulation, we’ll have another viewing for this version of Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony.”
“Then there’s no time to lose. On with the show!”
Taking her leave with Hoshimi and Michi, Tsumugi went back to the Simulation Pod Room to get a proper restart on her greatest work. She detoured into the main computer section of it, pulling up the memory files of the fifteen unlucky contestants and erasing the vast majority of what she’d implemented before. Although sad to see it go, the new fabricated lives she began to install felt sure to work out better for her side of it.
Putting on the last touches and uploading a copy of the new script, Tsumugi saved it all and closed it, strolling over to her awaiting pod and entrusting her associates to handle the last few details. She laid like that of a maiden cursed to sleep for a century, wires and sticky pads reclaiming their initial position as everything started up once more. All the new pieces were coming together…
Downloading: V3_Memories02.exe
Launching Program: New Danganronpa V3BOOT: Killing Harmony Redux
Buffering…
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Launch Complete.
Program Start!