Chapter Text
-2013-
An off-beat tune rings throughout the fourth floor of the near-abandoned Hope’s Peak Academy.
The camera feeds capture the whimsical strides of the self-proclaimed artiste and killer extraordinaire, Genocider Syo.
“When the boys are away, Syo’s gonna play~” Her pirouette ends with a harsh spin kick to the mastermind’s door, breaking it open. It’s not like anyone’s going to enforce the rules at this point. Definitely not Junko “died six ways to Sunday” Enoshima.
And what’s that mean? “Her stuff’s ripe for the taking!” The raid on the data-processing room begins.
“Money’ll be tough for master now that the world’s gone to shit.” An easy way to make him indebted to her is to become his new piggy bank. “I’ve always wanted to bag me a gigolo.”
What’s the price on these fancy computers? “Times like this that I wish I could ask Chihiro.” She technically still could. He just won’t answer from the freezer.
All she found in Junko’s drawers were bear clips, fake Monokumas, some kinda Monokuma chip “Damn, girl! Was there anything on your brain besides despair and dis-bear?”
This treasure hunt’s a treasure bust.
Until she searched under the hatch.
"Jackpot!" Syo mewls. Despite the weight of the small safe, the abnormal girl twirls around like she's holding a newborn babe.
She sets the metal box on the table. There's one annoyingly necessary (or unnecessarily annoying, depending on how you look at it) step to take before the mastermind's treasure is hers: Breaking the combination lock.
"As they say. If it was easy, it probably wasn't worthwhile." Syo nods to herself and inspects the keys. "Hmm, I can only enter 4 digits in the correct order." And not a hint in sight! "Always playing hard to get."
Too bad, this was the oldest trick in the book. It's normal to think these passwords are birthdays and that's why anyone with brains or tech-savvy sets them to something else. HOWEVER, boring things like logic don't exist in Junky's dictionary.
[1224]
A beep.
And nothing.
Guess even the SHSL Despair isn't vain enough to use her own birthday.
There's the option of taking the box and getting someone to break it open down the line . . . "No No No! I'll be the one getting all the credit from Master."
She'll be here all night if that's what it takes. Or so she'd like to say but she has to be fast or everyone's gonna be looking for her soon.
Syo hums in thought. "It's a long shot, but what do I have to lose?"
[0205]
*ka chink*
"High-five!" Syo raises her hand into the air. "Nobody? Shame."
Following a snicker, she pries open the safe. "What the hell? The only thing here is a crusty old book." Frowning, she flips open the treasure. Red eyes fall on a date. “Talk about old . . . hang on, is this a diary?”
No way. Junky of all people kept a diary! "Kyahahaha.” The murderous fiend’s cackle dies down. “You're always good for a laugh. Pity, that'll probably be the last time.” Syo didn’t harbor 1/10th of the hatred her classmates had for the betrayer.
Murder, kidnapping, and the disruption of societal order? Did it before it was cool!
“What a waste though.” Syo sighs, lamenting the fate of the SHSL despair.
“If you’d been a boy, we’d have made sweet music together while I strung you up.”
That was all. There wasn’t any room in a killer’s heart for sentimentality.
“Come to think of it,” She gasps. “Memorabilia like this would cost a fortune, and I’m the only one with a copy!”
That said, if she was gonna sell it, she might as well read it first.
“Time to learn all your secrets, Junky.”
It was only fair when Junko had carelessly exposed and trampled on so many others.