Chapter Text
Darkness thrummed an unholy melody against his ears. Bruising, grating, his eyes and his nose and his mouth, blocking off all senses until he was overwhelmed by them, suffocated by the sheer lack of them going into overdrive.
And then, he swallowed, the first ounce of sensation in his body. The hem of a sleeve against the inside of his wrist; the weight of the watch he kept in his pocket instead of wearing.
The pressure of someone’s hands shaking him awake.
“Odasaku!” Even fighting off lethargy, Dazai’s singsong voice was unmistakable to him. His face bloomed into view, shaggy dark hair falling in pieces over his face and his eyes glimmering with mischief. A bandage-wrapped hand gripped his own. “You’ve been asleep ages , Odasaku.”
“Yeah.” He could feel the weariness wrapped tightly around his system, like the strips of cloth binding most of his friend’s body. He pushed himself to sit up, only then noticing he’d been asleep on the bench of what looked like a changing room, but the dull grey flooring and pale blue walls identified it as one he’d never seen before. “Where are we?”
“That’s…a good question.” He tugged Oda to his feet. “I think our best bet is to look around and see what we can find out.”
“That’s a good idea,” Sakunosuke agreed, releasing Dazai’s hand and brushing his off on the thighs of his loose-fitting trousers.
The creak of the door was eerie in the silence, save for the two boys’ breaths as they exited the room. In a faint panic, their hands wound together again. It was grounding to have someone else there, when the world around them was bleached and grey, and there was an ache in Oda’s ears: the violent beep of a heart monitor.
Dazai's bandages were coming loose. He made a mental note to redo them for him later, since the concept of self-care was alien to him, or maybe he just enjoyed getting Odasaku to do things for him.
Their hands stayed linked until Dazai came to a halting pause when the hallway came to a bend. Oda pulled back, narrowly avoiding crashing into him.
"What—" he barely uttered, before he heard it too.
Voices.
Many of them, stringing together, fragments of sentences and conversation beyond the red double doors.
Dazai twisted the handle without a warning, earning the words, "You finally woke up."
Ango pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before his hand fell back to his lap. His sentence had earned him a few glances, before a girl with an elegant mass of brown curls and an ice-blue stare murmured, "You know them?"
"Ango!" Dazai released Oda's hand and joined their third friend, the latter following close behind. They seemed to be the only ones who knew one another, everyone else standing off in awkward isolation, exchanging glances.
"So. This must be all of us." A man with raven hair cut sharp to his chin and devilish red eyes matching the lining of his cloak stepped forward, a black-gloved hand rising to his chin.
The girl behind him sighed, twisting the end of her magenta plait between her fingers. She occupied one of the stray dining-room chairs, one leg propped up on the edge of the seat and the other swinging idly. He’d noticed Ango staring enough to realise how uncomfortable he was with the heel of her shoe pressing into the velvet cushion. "Sixteen students, and none of us know what's going on, am I right?"
"We don't know that!" A boy with choppy white bangs protested, desperation in his heterochromatic eyes as he turned to Oda with a pleading look in his eyes. "You must know what's going on, right? None of us know why we're here."
"I would , if my ability was working." The one who spoke was a boy, dark-haired and his legs crossed on the table top. He rustled his bag of sweets as he spoke, taking off his rectangle glasses in the same motion he popped a pale-coloured bonbon in his mouth. "But it's not, and I can't help you."
"No, sorry. I guess I don't know any more than the rest of you. I...just know Dazai, Ango and I were meant to be students of Hope's Peak Academy this year."
"Well, obviously." The girl in plaits shot back, folding her arms over her chest. "We all were. But this definitely isn't Hope's Peak."
That was for sure. Was this really the room full of Ultimates he was promised?
Oda did a cursory scan of the dining-room, finally leaning back against the table. A timid-looking girl sat in one corner, reading a book he considered to be one of his favourites. In the other, a boy whose unruly black hair descended into snowy tips, matching the skin on the fists barely hidden in his coat. Another girl watched him from the other side of the table, observably smitten, brown eyes studying his form and looking away when it seemed they were about to exchange glances.
There were others too. A younger-looking girl in a red dress, navy hair falling in pigtails to the small of her back. She fidgeted with the yellow ribbon tied around her midriff as she scanned the room with sorrowful blue eyes, wide but icy, not truly taking in what she saw. Another girl seemed to have taken her under her wing: older-looking and taller, her hair a few shades darker than the pink dress wrapped around her body, and her crimson eyes changing from hot to cold depending on where she levelled her gaze.
"This is ridiculous." Oda's head snapped up at the sound of a book being slammed shut. The voice was the kind that could easily command a room: loud and irrefutable, and belonging to a boy whose dirty-blond ponytail and razor-edged glasses forced everyone to look at him. "Instead of standing around, we should be doing something. If we're all as clueless as we say about why we all seemed to wake up here, I suggest we look for a way out. This was not on my schedule for today, and I plan to return to it as soon as possible."
"Maybe we can figure out why we're here if we share what we do know. I'll start. My name is Akiko Yosano, the ultimate doctor. I haven't had the opportunity to test my ability sadly, but I doubt it'll work." Yosano's heels tapped a rhythm against the tiled floor as she waited for the next person to speak, her arms folded over her chest in a way that dared people to look then made them beg for mercy for trying.
"My name is Sakunosuke Oda." He surprised himself by speaking next, but anything to make sense of what was happening. "The Ultimate Seer. But my ability activates of its own will, so I couldn't tell you if mine wasn't working."
"Doppo Kunikida." The notebook-wielder tore a page from the back and attempted to activate it by naming their ability. When nothing happened, he released his two fingers’ grip, letting it flutter to the ground. It skimmed the toe of Odasaku's shoe before hitting the floor. "Also known as the Ultimate Creator. However, my ability will not allow me to create anything bigger than my notebook, and circumstances are preventing me from creating anything at all."
Dazai introduced himself next, not needing a demonstration to bring quiet to the room, to those whose abilities could silence a storm. He felt stupidly proud in that moment of his smirking friend. The Ultimate Nullifier was certainly a force to be reckoned with.
One by one, the rest began to introduce themselves, and Sakunosuke started to piece them together, names, faces, and talents. The white-haired boy was Atsushi Nakajima, the Ultimate Beast. Kyouka Izumi, who made eye-contact with no one, the Ultimate Demon. Edogawa Ranpo, the Ultimate Detective, sat chewing on his bon bons, and when that packet finished, swiftly moved onto another. His friend Ango, the Ultimate Antiquarian folded his hands in his lap, piling them like a nervous habit.
The Ultimate Power, the Ultimate Doll, the Ultimate Beauty, the Ultimate Focus, the Ultimate Typhoon, the Ultimate Silence.
With a mask tied over their face and befitting of their name, they had yet to speak a word.
The boy in the long black coat was the last to speak. "Ryuunosuke Akutagawa. My ability, Rashoumon, makes me the Ultimate Blade."
Or so Oda thought, because the girl who hadn't been able to tear her eyes away from Ryuunosuke sharply turned her head to the side. "If you have to know, I can't remember my talent. I can't help you."
That didn’t help things, but he couldn’t imagine not knowing what his talent was. That had to be worse than this—whatever this was.
“Then, we should do what Kunikida suggested,” Ranpo murmured without looking up. His voice had changed, no longer pitched with the same childlike frustration. “If none of us know what’s going on, and this really isn’t the academy, then we should be finding a way to get there.”
“I agree.” Atsushi’s soft gaze hardened with resolve, and he spun on his heel. “Should we split up? Or do we go all together? I’m not sure if we have any way to communicate though, so—”
“You’re not going anywhere!” A new voice echoed throughout the room they were gathered in. The vent beneath the ceiling crashed to the floor—Kyouka jumping nimbly out of the way—and a bear tumbled out, landing perfectly in the centre of the table.
It couldn’t be more than three feet tall, but the half-black, half-white body and the heterochromatic gaze—one eye a black bean and the other a jagged crimson slit—made sure no one’s attention faltered.
“My name’s Monokuma! Your host, your mentor, and most importantly, the headmaster of Hope’s Peak Academy.” ‘Monokuma’ strode back and forth across the tabletop, tiny paws propped on hips. “And here you all thought there wasn’t an entrance exam. Well, you were wrong .”
Higuchi’s jaw dropped. “An entrance exam?”
Sakunosuke couldn’t help but feel sympathy. How could she pass the entrance exam without even knowing her talent?
“You’re wrong. Hope’s Peak Academy doesn’t have an entrance exam. I would have factored it into my schedule,” Kunikida retorted.
The bear simply laughed, pushing its paws to its mouth. “Talking back to your headmaster? Ooh, you’re bold. I bet all your friends think you’re really cool. Do you get detention to prove how cool you are as well? Because I can arrange that, if you really want!”
His jaw tensed. “What are you talking about.”
Monokuma continued on, simply ignoring the interruption. “Of course, it wouldn’t be a real detention. Just like, you’re right. This isn’t a real entrance exam. This is a bona-fide Monokuma special—drumroll please—”
The silence was so powerful, it was deafening.
It pouted, folding its disproportionate arms over its chest. “You guys just don’t know how to have fun. Well, that will all change, because guess what, we’re going to play a game!”
A screen descended from behind it. Monokuma leapt out of its way, brandishing a remote and clicking through a PowerPoint presentation of all things until it got to the title slide.
WELCOME TO THE KILLING GAME .
In bold. Red. Comic Sans font.
“Is this a failed attempt at a joke?” Kouyou breathed, placing a hand on Kyouka’s shoulder to steady her.
“This has to me some kind of—”
“ God , didn’t your insignificant little public schools teach you not to speak while the teacher is presenting?” The bear ranted, slamming the next button.
A transition appeared that tore the screen into shreds, before the next slide came into view.
It didn’t know how to punctuate, but the rules were easy enough to understand.
So easy, in fact, that Oda immediately felt sick to his stomach. Once again, Dazai grabbed his hand for comfort.
But he hated it. He hated the feeling of their hands intertwined because while his was pale and shaking, Dazai’s stayed firm and unwavering. This boy could stare death in the face and laugh , and Oda was hit with the sudden fear that he wouldn’t survive another night. If this was a killing game…
Dazai was the easiest target.
Because for as many times Oda could tell him the universe was built on stardust for only his eyes to see, Osamu craved that same dust, that same depraved senselessness to be his endgame, his fate.
But for as long as Sakunosuke lived, he’d never let it be so.
Steadying that resolve in his heart, he returned his attention to the screen.
Kill or be killed in my brand new killing game! To win the game, all you have to do is commit murder and get away with it. Simple, right?
The game will continue until there is one blackened OR two spotless left.
The body discovery announcement will play when three people find the victim, and after sufficient investigation will begin the class trial!
If you vote the murderer correctly they will be executed for their sins.
But if you vote wrong, you all die and the blackened escapes!
Only the person who commits the murder has a chance to win! So, if you’re an accomplice, tooooough luck!! Upupupu
“Escape? So we can’t just leave?” Someone asked.
It didn’t matter who.
Not to Oda, not when there was a talking bear in front of him telling him he had to kill people to leave this unfamiliar place.
Not to Oda, when he knew the boy next to him didn’t care whether he lived or died.
“This…isn’t real.”
“Isn’t real? Upupupu, you should see the results of the other—I mean, what?” It put a paw to its face, cocking its head to the side. “ Anywho , I can’t be bothered to read out everything else so all the rules will be in your Digibooks which are in your rooms. Don’t even try to outsmart the killing game, people die that way. Oh, and because you’re all in the fresh, youthful stage of your life where you think killing is wrong—”
“—Killing is wrong—”
“—I thought of a little something extra to really push you to your limits!”
Without warning, the room descended into thick, inky darkness.
“It’s like this everywhere, and the lights won’t come back on until someone dies. See ya later!”
There was no way of telling Monokuma really left, but otherwise, nothing could be heard except the culmination of their breathing.
“We don’t know for sure that he was telling the truth about escaping,” Atsushi offered nervously, a decapitated voice. Though Oda’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness, he could barely make out one acquaintance’s frame from another. “We could still try to—”
“Without your ability, none of us can see a hand in front of our faces,” retorted Akutagawa coldly, blending even more into the blanket of shadow. “Do you suppose it’ll be easy to find a way to escape?”
“If we don’t, then the lights will stay off until someone dies. Is that really a better fate?” Kouyou’s sigh was withering. “I volunteer to search for a way to exit. If no one wants to join me, fine, but I refuse to be a sitting duck. Kyouka?”
“I’ll come with you,” the other girl murmured.
As they left, it became apparent Monokuma was telling the truth. The hallway was no brighter than the dining-room.
This was real, this was real, this was—
“I’m going to go to my room.” Ango shot to his feet. He passed by Oda, gripping the inside of his elbow and whispering, “ I need to speak to you and Dazai. ”
He barely managed to nod before Ango disappeared, turning to Dazai though they could barely make one another out. “I think we should find our rooms as well. What about the rest of you?”
“Well, waiting mindlessly certainly isn’t on today’s agenda.” Oda was starting to think the snap of a notebook shutting was Kunikida’s signature sound. “Escape is the only option.”
“I think…I’m going to look for a way to escape as well. Maybe I can catch up with Kouyou and Kyouka,” said Atsushi.
“I think I’ll join you.” Mori, too, looked like a creature of darkness as he captured Atsushi’s attention. “Heaven knows there’s nothing logical about waiting for a murder to happen.”
“Nothing logical about looking for an escape when there obviously wouldn’t be one either!” Ranpo crinkled the packet in his hands and tossed it aside, the sharp plastic corners scuttling across the table. “I’m not going to waste my time on that.”
“Akutagawa, are you going to—”
“ No ,” he snapped. “It’s foolish to even try. If there really was a means of escaping, that bear would have no way of pushing this game onto us in the first place. I’m going to find my room.”
“Then I will as well.” Higuchi leapt to her feet, bent on following him even though he wouldn’t even look at her.
Louisa had barely said a word since her introductions, but finally shut the book she was reading, as if finally noticing she wouldn’t be able to distinguish one word from another in this light. The rest stood in contemplative silence, either ignoring his question, or never having heard it.
“We should go, Odasaku.”
“Okay.”
Dazai led Sakunosuke out of the room by the hand, blindly turning corners and proclaiming he could sense the rooms would be around the next corner (they never were) until the latter had had enough and chose a hallway at random.
It was hard to discern what they were looking at, until Osamu noticed one of the doors was ajar. “Is that Ango’s room?”
“It must be,” Oda murmured, gripping the handle and tugging it the rest of the way open.
Ango was an upright silhouette on his bed. “Shut the door behind you. I don’t want anyone else to hear our conversation.”
He did as asked, perching on the bed beside Ango. “What is it?”
“I did…a thorough search of the building before meeting with the others in the dining hall. The breaker has a timer, so the power-cut was preplanned. But there’s no way the bear would be able to set the timer, leading me to believe that someone among them is working for Monokuma, or, more likely, is in charge of it.” He folded his hands on his lap. “A mastermind, of sorts.”
“So, if we stop the mastermind, the killing game will end?” Dazai asked, hushed, paranoid of the rooms on either side. “Of course, that’s given that there is a mastermind in charge of Monokuma. Is there any way we can find out for sure?”
“If you did a thorough search of the school, are there any places you think could be some kind of base?” pressed Oda.
There was a soft intake of breath as Ango opened his mouth, but his words were cut off by a cacophony of rain flushing the outside, battering against the windows—blackout curtains padlocked to the glass—and wind howling throughout the quietude of the building.
Sakunosuke closed his eyes, timing his heart rate to the pulse of the storm. It calmed him.
What for others was a bad omen, he took as a sign that this threat would be washed away by morning.
“I think if the people looking for escape routes have no success in an hour, we should sleep.” He looked towards the door. “They may not be our friends, but Monokuma, the mastermind—if there even is one—can’t win if we won’t let them.”
“Odasaku…”
“Goodnight, Dazai. Goodnight, Ango. I hope that after tonight, we’ll get to attend Hope’s Peak Academy for real.”
He rose to his feet, Dazai studying him like a hawk even as he left.
As soon as he found his room—through a lot of guesswork and squinting until he could make out his name on the door—Sakunosuke wrapped himself up in the covers, snatching the sleek electronic notebook from the bedside and taking it with him.
The Digibook came with a map. Oda’s bottom lip ended up beneath his teeth as he studied it, the glow emanating from the screen barely enough to draw out his backpack from the shadows. Well, not his backpack. A backpack marked with his name in an indistinguishable scrawl, but everything inside was so very much his . His most treasured books, his extra lucky watch, the clip he used to keep his hair out of his eyes while reading.
Only nostalgia rivalled the fear.
So once again, with a hand over his heart, he sucked in a deep breath and allowed himself to be lulled to sleep by the rain.
There was a gazebo outside the main building. He’d go there in the morning, to read his book.
Light moved on endlessly, after all. And not even the mastermind could turn off the sky.
16 PEOPLE LEFT.