Chapter Text
"Get in losers, we're going to a funeral."
From the driver's seat, you gave Hiyoko and Ibuki a wide grin, sunglasses dipped low on your nose to eye your classmates. Despite not having an official license, you insisted on being the one to pick up your classmates for Junko's funeral. Mostly because you liked driving and also to prove that you were a good driver.
Besides , you had some experience driving. A Monokuma soldier was more than happy to give you some basics. And after crashing two cars, you were proud to say that you were a safe(ish)driver.
Hiyoko scowled, your 'loser' remark duly noted. Blonde hair kept down and decorated with a flowered kanzashi , she still held her head high as the Ultimate Traditional Dancer. Even at the end of the world, Hiyoko wore a pale pink kimono decorated with flowers and a traditional pair of zori slippers. In the bleak landscape of the ruined city, she still managed to be beautiful and untouched by the destruction. If it wasn't for her foul mouth, you would have been utterly captivated by Hiyoko.
Besides her, Ibuki waved energetically in the air. In comparison to Hiyoko, she was dressed like a punk rocker that radiated chaotic energy. She still looked like a Hot Topic shop threw up on her (in a good, sensible way of course) yet she grew to be a fairly intimidating person. Piercings galore, she wore a dark kimono-lolita dress with ripped tights on her left leg and a fishnet thigh-high on her right. And completing her appearance was a guitar case hoisted on her back, tuned in place and ready to capture the audiences' attention. Just like her concerts, Ibuki was dressed as if she was meant to be at center stage.
"Who're you calling a loser, loser?!" Hiyoko shot back.
Rushing right up to your van, Ibuki eagerly grinned at you, jumping up and down like a rabbit. "Long time no see!!!! How ya doing?" she inquired. You smiled. Even as a Remnant, Ibuki was just as friendly as ever.
"Good, good," you dismissed. "Uh, Mikan is in the front with me, so you two gotta take the back." Jabbing a thumb in Mikan's direction, she leaned against her seatbelt and smiled shyly towards Ibuki.
"H-Hello, you two…" she stuttered out, giving a small wave. Hiyoko stared at Mikan for a moment at the Nurse, a beat of silence hung in the air as you observed her actions.
Hiyoko smiled kindly at Mikan, eyes crinkling as if she was greeting a beloved friend. Yet you could see how her eyes turned an unsettling shade of red as she spoke. "Good afternoon, Mikan! You look wonderful today. I'm so sorry for your loss, by the way," the Dancer said to her, grief genuine. Junko was precious to Hiyoko too, after all.
"O-Oh…um…Thank you very much for your condolences, Hiyoko," the Nurse replied, hesitation clear in her face. Her gaze was focused on her lap, fingers fidgeting together in a nervous fashion. Despite Hiyoko's new treatment of her, Mikan was still unsure how to process kindness. No matter how false it was.
The mood dampened at the mention of Junko. However, you quickly took control of the atmosphere and prompted them to the back of your van. "C'mon, let's save the grief for the funeral," you prompted, unlocking the back of your van. "The trip is about two hours straight to the hideout, so did you guys already use the bathroom?"
Ibuki nodded, shaking off the somber moment as quickly as it came. "Yup, Ibuki's engine is all out," she winked. "How about you, Hiyoko?"
Her cheeks turned pink, "O-of course, I did, you moron! It was a pain to use the bathroom then put this outfit on!"
You rolled your eyes. "Right. Well, that’s good. I don’t want my van to smell like blood and urine. I don’t have any air fresheners."
An hour into the trip and you were getting tired of seeing the same old ruined city. You were pretty sure that you passed from one prefecture to the hideout. The stupid GPS Kazuichi built was difficult to read sometimes since there was literally no more streets to follow. But, with a lot of detective work you managed to figure out where to go and were now traveling the freeway for the rest of the hour.
From the rear-view mirror, you could see Hiyoko roll her eyes at you. "Finally," she huffed. "That grease monkey shoulda known that a GPS was going to be useless in this situation."
"Oh, c'mon," you chided her. "It's the thought that counts. He didn't want us to get lost, is all."
"That's not the point! And also, you suck at driving! How many times did you crash into the debris?! An 80 year old man with arthritis could drive better than you!"
Your mouth hung open. "Excuse me, young lady, but I’m the driver here. You can either walk the entire way," you say in your best 'disappointed mother' voice.
Hiyoko huffed, not bothering to retort.
"Ooooorrr," you began teasingly, light smirk playing in your lips. " You can drive, Hiyoko." Your eyes peered over your glasses, meeting with Hiyoko's in the rearview mirror. "I'm ready to die anytime, anywhere, baby."
She flinched, more out of fear of walking the rest of the way than your words. Hiyoko sneered before staring out the window.
You grinned victoriously and kept a steady hand at the wheel. Glancing at Mikan, who was dabbing at the edges of her eyes with tissues, you felt a tiny bit sorry for her. Despite your jokes, you were actually quite upset that Junko died. The world was a much more boring place without her. There was no one like your muse who could drive the entire world to despair, carving her name in the history books as a special kind of monster. You could only dream of being remembered like that, to be acknowledged and known.
Yet, your admiration and love towards Junko wasn't romantic like Mikan's. Out of everyone, Mikan was one of the closest to Junko. Her love towards their leader was intense, toxic, and self-destructive. You couldn't even imagine how much despair she was in to see the object of her affections crushed under a trash compactor.
You were a tad jealous.
"Bee Tee Dubs," Ibuki quipped, breaking the silence. "I heard through the grapevine that you were already at the hideout a few days ago, preparing for Junko's funeral. What's up with that? Sonia and Mahiru could have totally picked us up."
"Ah, well. Fuyuhiko called me over last week to set up my crew and equipment at the hideout," you explained, shifting one lane to the right as a mountain of bodies blocked the way.
("Oh, look at that!" Hiyoko cried out excitedly, eyes burning red as she rolled down the window and peered at the bodies. "They look like an anthill!")
"So, I went there last week and set everything up. And, besides, the Princess isn't going to arrive for a few days. I might as well have brought you three so everyone can be together. You want your time to mourn, right? Even a few days matter in the grieving process."
Mikan glanced at you, lips quivering. "R-Really? Th-that's so nice of you…! I won't waste this chance and I'll grieve for my beloved as best as I can—" She choked on a sob, tears running down her cheeks in fat drops.
"Oh. Uh…There's tissue in here," you informed her and pulled open the glove compartment, grabbing at a box of tissue and handing it towards Mikan. "Just. Just take all of it."
She stuttered out her thanks, gently taking the box from you. The Nurse blew her nose, the noise rattling your eardrums.
Immediately, you directed your attention towards Ibuki. "We're also gonna be airing the funeral. You know, give the world a taste of despair from the True Ultimate Despair. It's a nice thought, right? That even if you're dead, you can still give despair to the world?"
Mikan sobbed, "Th-That's so kind of you! My beloved wo-wo-would have wanted that. Thank you so much for doing this…!"
You didn't have the heart to tell her that it was Fuyuhiko's idea.
"Ugh, the mood in here is getting me down," Ibuki whined. She dug into her pockets and pulled out a CD. "I know the perfect song for this. Listen to Ibuki's new song I Burned Down A Refugee Camp and Made Some Tasty S'Mores . It's got that really sad vibe and plus, it's based on Ibuki's experience! Maybe everyone’ll cheer up with this." The Musician grinned, puffing out in pride as her clenched fist and lightly pounded her chest.
You cast a look towards Mikan. When you locked eyes with the Nurse, you could see the glint of concern deep inside her grey irises.
As much as you loved Ibuki, you could not stand her music. It physically hurt you no matter how much you wanted to like it. The music Ibuki made was beautiful, in a sense. It was sort of like listening to an ancient demon sing with chords that could tear out your eardrums. There was a fine line between pain and pleasure you believed. And Ibuki's music crossed that threshold right into ear torture.
Not fond of having your ears bleed as you drove, you hastily said to Ibuki, "Let's save that for the funeral. I'm sure that Junko would appreciate having your music play instead of some boring-ass organ music. Besides, I don’t want to attract nasty little scavengers and make us late."
Hiyoko pouted. "Let those losers hear Ibuki's music. Maybe they could finally get some taste !" Apparently, she took personal offense when her favorite artist was insulted.
"As much as I'm down for murder, I don't got time for it right now," you argued back. From the rearview, you watched as the Musician frowned.
"Fine, Ibuki understands…" she said, sounding like a disappointed child. "Junko was one of the first people that loved Ibuki's music. She might like it if we play it at her funeral."
Your shoulders visibly relaxed, glad you dodged a bullet.
"Yeah. Besides," you say, digging into your center console. You show off your own CD. "When you're sad, always listen to Hatsune Miku. "
The hideout, which was more of a base than anything, was carved out of a small company office building. It was one of the few structures left standing after the Ultimate Despair cleared out the surrounding neighborhoods and was the one nearest to Hope's Peak.
Coupled with a company dorm, the office building was a perfect place for any of your classmates to stay in.
Parking your van in the back of the building, you eagerly got out and stretched, tired from the long trip. Mikan followed, wobbling out of the passenger seat with shaky legs. A wave of relief washed over her expression as she was once again on solid, unmoving ground.
Hiyoko was the next to leave, quickly pushing open the door and stumbling out. Her expression was green and she landed uneasily on her feet, something that didn't often happen as the Ultimate Traditional Dancer.
You grinned at them. "Don't forget to give me five stars, you guys!" you exclaimed jokingly. Hiyoko gave you a harsh glare, snapping out of her motion sickness to give you a few choice words.
"You dumbass! You said that you could drive! What the hell was that?!" she screamed out, however her voice faltered as suppressed the urge to vomit. "Do you think you’re some hot shit racer, breaking the speed limit and playing World Is Mine ?!"
You pouted, arms crossed your chest in a childish gesture of defensiveness. "But, we lived ."
Mikan was the next to speak, weak voice shaking as her hands clenched tightly into fists. "Th-That's not the problem! Forgive me for saying this, bu-but your driving is horrible! I-I-I'm having he-heart palpitations! You could even ki-kill someone like that!"
You peeked into the back, eyes narrowing. "Oof, speaking of death, I think Ibuki died. She's making bubbles," you inform blandly, pointing at the window. Opening the door, you saw a limp Ibuki in the backseat, foaming at the mouth.
"Blub blub blub!"
"Hyaaaah!" Mikan screamed, almost shoving you out of the way. "I-Ibuki is going through cardiac arrest! We have to get her to the nursing station right away!"
With the strength and urgency of a true medical professional, she tucked Ibuki under her arm and lifted her from the car. Mikan's head snapped towards you, eyes wild. "You help too!" Before you can reply, she dragged you by the arm, forcing you to cradle Ibuki and drag you into the building.
The office building was divided into four floors, each room renovated to your classmates' tastes in order to practice their talents and housed enough weapons to fuel a small army. Then at the bottom was a basement, which was the creepiest room in the entire building. When you visited the basement the other day, it was renovated into a nice little torture chamber.
The first floor had a medical room and was outfitted to have the same capabilities as a hospital. Tucking Ibuki into bed after Mikan's medical treatment, you sighed to yourself. "Is there anything you want me to do, Mikan?" you inquire her Like a dutiful health professional, Mikan was adjusting Ibuki's body underneath the covers and checked her pulse (was Ibuki dying? Or did her heart rate not come down yet?). Mikan shook head.
"N-No…I would like to gr-greet ever-everyone again. B-But, Ibuki's condition co-comes first."
You gave her a two-fingered salute. "Roger. I think Hiyoko went to the dining hall…or the bathroom. She looked a little green," you mentioned, remembering how the Dancer rushed towards the women's bathroom. A flash of worry crossed Mikan's face.
"Th-Then, I should go get her…! Ca-Can you please get Hiyoko for me? I can't leave a patient!"
Despite not wanting to, you knew that Mikan's duty as a nurse wasn't going to let you reject her request. "Fine," you yielded to her. "I'll be back in a few."
Leaving the room, you go down the hall and see the sign for the bathroom, situated just behind the office next to the medical bay. Steps quickening, you approach the bathroom, about to enter before you stopped short of colliding with someone.
"Ouch! Watch where you’re going, you clumsy pig-shit!"
That insult. It was definitely Hiyoko.
Easily brushing off the insult, you gave her a small smile. You couldn't run the risk of inhaling Hiyoko's scent, no longer flowery and sweet, now smelled like vomit. "Mikan wants to see you in the medical room. You looked sick when you left the van, so she just wants to make sure you're okay," you explained to Hiyoko, wanting Mikan's task over and done with. There were more pressing matters to attend to.
Irises flaring red, Hiyoko grinned like a child. "Wow! Mikan is soooo cool and caring…What a wonderful nurse. I'll see her right away!"
With that, you watched as the blonde nearly skipped all the way down the hall to the medical bay.
Once alone, you sighed, wandering through the hall to find Fuyuhiko and discuss Junko's funeral with him. Though, you knew what Fuyuhiko and Sonia were planning, there were the still mundane details you needed to iron out first. Where to hold her funeral and where you were going to bury her. If Junko was going to be buried. You couldn't imagine the True Ultimate Despair being satisfied with just being stuffed into a hole in the ground.
All Fuyuhiko said that he wanted to make Junko's funeral so despair-inducing that it crushed whatever hope sprouted from their leader's death. It was open for interpretation and the possibilities were endless, especially for Ultimate Despair.
"Ah, there you are," a familiar friendly voice called out from behind you. Nagito was waving at you, wearing the same sickening smile as always. He was paler and skinnier the last time you saw him, collarbones jutting out from his red and green shirt. Nagito still retained the same overly-friendly demeanor, the same habits of self-deprecation. He was the same as ever.
Nagito was completely hopeless .
You grinned back, smile dripping with forced politeness. No matter how much you strained yourself to be civil, you didn't dare let it show. "Hiii, Nagito! Long time no see!" you cheerfully greeted him, rushing over to the Ultimate Lucky Student. "How are you? Howareyou?"
It was hard to play the role of a fellow comrade-in-arm. Over the years, your relationship with the Luckster was complicated. You didn't understand him, you didn't trust him, you couldn't predict him. You had no idea what he thought of you, either. Yet, you didn't hate Nagito for it. You just had to be careful with him at times.
Maybe your relationship with Nagito was based on the inability to understand him. Yet you somehow cared enough to try.
Nagito instinctively took a step back as you invaded his personal space. Despite being shorter than him, you managed to cut an intimidating figure with that unnerving friendly smile and your sickly sweet greeting towards him. He knew with absolutely certainty that if he let his guard down—well, you were in a secret base for Ultimate Despair. The possibilities were limitless.
He forced out a chuckle, maintaining his usual composure. "Good. Or rather, as good as I can be in these times," Nagito replies to you with a sigh and crossed arms. As if he didn't have anything to do with The Tragedy. "I missed my chance to greet you when you first arrived here. And I wanted to be one of the first to know of the funeral arrangements…But, even Fuyuhiko is keeping it under wraps."
You smiled, placing your index finger in front of your lips. "It's a secret! Only me, Sonia, and Fuyuhiko know. Think of it like...” Trailing off, you briefly thought of what you would allude to. Almost immediately, you finished, hands flourishing in the air like a flower. “A birthday surprise."
"A…birthday surprise?"
"Yeah! The anticipation is 75% of what makes birthday surprises great. The other 25% is actually getting the gift. So, think of it like that. You can pull out my nails and I won't tell! I'm not a party-pooper!"
Were you saying that…the gift wasn't good?
Before Nagito can say anything else, you immediately take control of the situation. If you learned anything from your days with Nagito, it was better to get in control, take away whatever power he had and take it for yourself. And with the discussion in your hands, you were quick to shift it in your desired direction. An idea popped in your head and feeling a little mischievous, you decided to put your plan in action.
"Who cares about that, though? I'm just saying nonsense," you admit to him with a lop-sided grin. "What'd you think of the last class trial? To think that Makoto, another Ultimate Lucky Student, defeated Junko…"
Just as expected, Nagito's ever-present smile dropped into a frown of annoyance and disgust. Even in their days during Hope's Peak, Nagito was never fond of Makoto, often turning disdainful whenever the younger student was brought up.
You had figured it was due to their talents as Lucky Students yet you felt that it was more than that.
An expression of arrogance formed, strange and foreign on the usually smiling Nagito. "It was unexpected, I admit, for another Lucky Student to beat Junko…" Nagito admitted with gritted teeth and clenched fist, which shook. Then, his eyes turned up towards the ceiling with a dazed expression of worship. It was the same gaze he held for Junko, his eyes a mix of hope and despair, something that didn't quite blend together to create something dark and unrecognizable.
"He's shed his title as the Ultimate Lucky Student and became the hope that the world was waiting for! …I couldn't be more proud to be of my underclassman!" Nagito wiped a tear from the corner of his eyes.
You gripped your bag tighter, suppressing a shudder. No matter how many times you saw it, when Nagito got like that it made you quite nervous.
' You hated his ass when we were in Hope's Peak, though ,' you recalled.
Again, you couldn't grasp Nagito. Contradictory to the very end, but you did have an inkling of understanding. His ideas of misguided hope and his emotions towards luck mingled together into something incomprehensible you didn't want to think about.
Maybe not understanding Nagito was the charm in your friendship with him.
But, that was a matter for another time. For now, you had a funeral to plan out.
"Anyways, we can talk more about Junko during her funeral," you say to him, reigning the conversation in. "Do you know where Fuyuhiko is?" Nagito blinked, taken aback from your sudden change of subject. The pieces clicked in the place, the flow of conversation, the direction it took, the shifts in topics.
He was caught up in your pace…again.
If there was one thing you got better at, it was knowing how to make people tick. It was especially true with your classmates.
"Oh, I believe he's in the basement with Peko," Nagito answered you. If you weren't going to answer his original question, then it couldn't be helped. Besides, he would find out when the others arrived in a few days. "While salvaging Junko's body, Fuyuhiko ran into a team of Future Foundation agents. And…"
"He and Peko are torturing the survivors, got it." Fuyuhiko plus Future Foundation agents was a big enough clue to what he was doing at the moment. Nagito gave you an affirming nod.
You sighed. "Torture during a funeral? How despair-inducingly distasteful."