Chapter Text
Komaru Naegi was a normal girl.
Komaru Naegi was a normal girl.
Komaru Naegi was a normal girl.
“Komaru Naegi is a normal girl,” Komaru Naegi breathed, patting down her pleated school skirt as she stood stock still in front of her mirror.
“I don’t think so,” a voice chirped from her open bedroom door - he had a toothbrush crammed in his mouth, he was a mess, had clearly only stumbled out of bed five minutes ago; Komaru puffed her cheeks.
“Go away, Makoto!”
Makoto sighed and ran the brush around his mouth a bit... then walked off to the bathroom and spat, before coming back and standing in the doorway again. The house was simply built, the doorframe was polished wood - Komaru had taken to decorating her room with posters of movies and books she had edited. She had her own interests... if Makoto was completely honest, a lot of his interests stemmed from whatever was popular on the internet or among his small gaggle of friends at the time. Right now it was obsessing over the new students being introduced to his school - Komaru’s graduate class, this was her first day, and he was trying his hardest to be a supportive older brother.
Komaru didn’t see it that way, she whirled around and threw her precious new purple pencil case at him. He caught it, then dropped it, then picked it up and looked at it - woven, with a zip. On the tag (why was the tag still there?) was written;
To Komaru, my favourite editor. From Toko
“Huh...” he smiled at her genuinely. “From Toko? She must really like you. It’s mad that she took the time out of her obsession over Byakuya to write this...”
“Yeah,” Komaru wandered over and held her hand out, accepting the case. “I know... her most recent book was, eh... disturbing. But I think I made good work of it,” she shrugged and shoved it into her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder... she then took it off and put it on a bit more carefully so her ironed white shirt didn’t crinkle. Her backpack was normal, like she claimed to be, black and with a Hope’s Peak academy emblem on the front.
“Well, Miss Ultimate Editor, I should think so,” Makoto was pulling on the hoodie that was previously blanched over his arm. He grinned at her and stuck his thumbs up. “You’ll do great today!”
“You and your optimism,” Komaru patted her brother on the head as she walked past him, into the hallway - she often did this as a tease, she was merely an inch or so taller than him but she said it should ‘make him feel small’, or something. Makoto didn’t really mind, like Komaru had said, he was filled with hopeless optimism.
The hallway was normal too. So was the kitchen. So was the back door that they exited in tow of their father to be driven to school - they could have walked, realistically, but Komaru got jelly legs. That was normal, Komaru always got jelly legs when she was nervous. The car was normal. The drive to school was normal - not that Makoto had ever been driven before, but somehow seeing the same sights of Towa that he walked past every day was different from the view of a car window.
“So...” their father cleared his throat. “Komaru. How are you feeling?”
Komaru perked her head up, she had been leaning against the window - she beamed at the front seat. “Pretty good! Toko said she would show me around at lunch time... er... provided that I help her write some kind of note to Byakuya, but you know... a-anyway, I’m... hah! I’m excited but I am also nervous, to be completely honest.”
“Why doesn’t Makoto show you around?”
“I offered,” Makoto mumbled. Then, he remembered who he was talking to - the little bit of hair sticking atop his head straightened as he gasped. “I-I mean, I think Ko might have a better time with Toko than me. Plus, there are some people who just sort of shove me aside because of the whole talent thing, so if she’s not with me, that lowers her chances of being pushed around...”
Right, right. Makoto didn’t have a talent. It had been his dream to get into Hope’s Peak for a long time but the problem was, he wasn’t particularly good at anything at all. Maybe he could be the Ultimate Nothing? No, that wasn’t cool. Ultimate... Talentless? No, he was stuck with the Ultimate Lucky Student title. A title that was... tainted, so to speak. His best friend Kyoko’s title was tainted too, she stood at Ultimate ???, or Ultimate Unknown. The last people who had their titles, well...
“Makoto? Are you listening to me?”
“Huh-? Yeah, yeah! Can you repeat that last part?”
Their father sighed. “I said, I want you to go around to the pharmacy and pick up your mother’s medication after school.”
Yep, normal. Always the medication. Always after school. Always Makoto.
“Oh,” Makoto smiled. “Okay. Ko, do you wanna come?”
Komaru seethed. “Weeeeeell... I can’t. Sorry. I’m already so popular, see, that I’ve been invited out.”
“Psh.” Makoto scoffed, kicking her. She kicked back. Then when they were almost fist fighting in the back of the car, it shuddered to a halt.
“Please try to behave,” their father looked at them... Komaru with her neat school uniform and brushed hair; Makoto with his oddly styled hoodie and blazer combo school uniform, unruly spiky brown hair and all. At least their eyes pointed them to be siblings.
“Riiiight...” Komaru shoved Makoto’s head into the leather seat once more and flew from the car, babbling a goodbye as she disappeared into the flocking crowd of school teens - Makoto sat up and peered out of the window, looking for... aha! Komaru was being dragged off by Toko, as confirmed by the flash of dark purple twin plaits flying through the air... left behind in the dust was a paler lilac head.
“Thanks for the lift. See you!” Makoto hopped out of the car and their father sped off... part of him wondered just how much children annoyed their parents with constant bickering.
Either way he didn’t have much time to wonder because Kyoko Kirigiri was staring at him expectantly, arms folded - when he finally reached her and waved, she continued to stare for a minute.
“Your hair is a mess,” she said eventually. “You should fix it.”
Makoto mumbled something and ran his hands through his hair...
“...Yes, that should be fine.” Kyoko sighed. “Anyway. How are you today?”
“Oh, same old, same old,” Makoto shrugged. He noted that Kyoko was wearing a backpack, he had a locker so didn’t wear one very often... he pointed at the lilac strap on her shoulder. “What’s that?”
“A backpack.” She said stiffly.
Makoto rolled his eyes. “I know, Kiri. What’s in it? You don’t usually wear one.” This was the first thing that wasn’t normal.
“Let’s walk to class,” The ultimate unknown said nonchalantly, taking Makoto by the arm and leading him inside the school.
It was... well, the word grand didn’t cover it. Every time Makoto walked in here he couldn’t quite comprehend how this had come to be. The ceilings were high, stabled by pillars that shot up from the ground and could be described as supporting the hope that spilled from these very walls. Hope’s Peak was for the elite, for those who would build humanity’s future with their bare hands - the cold marble theme on everything gave a stern and serious impression, the classrooms all had the same wooden sliding door - there was about five different floors in the academy and each one housed a different set of research labs. Some notable ones were a bio lab, a computer lab, there was also that weird cushiony looking red door down to the left of the first floor... nonetheless, Makoto’s class always gathered in classroom 1-C in the mornings before they dispersed to work on their own ultimate talents (if they had them).
They were the first there this morning, though - apart from one other... he was always somehow earlier than the earliest person. That was normal.
“Good morning Naegi, Kirigiri!” He barked when Kyoko slid open 1-C’s door, saluting them from his seated position at the desk directly in front of the teacher’s.
“Hey, Taka,” Makoto gave him a small wave, Kyoko merely nodded - Taka beamed at them. “How are we on this glorious day?”
“Glorious...? Ah, well, I’m... okay, I guess? I’m a bit worried about my sister,” Makoto made his way over to Taka’s desk as Kyoko made her way to the middle row. “It’s her first day.”
“Remind her not to run in the halls! It can be dangerous,” Taka demanded. He was holding a piece of chalk very threateningly, so Makoto nodded vigorously.
“O-oh, for sure! I’ll tell her,” he laughed awkwardly before Kyoko, ever his saving grace, took his attention -
“Makoto, come here,” she hauled a book out of her bag, placing it on the table with a thump - it was thick, heavy and leather bound with clean, crisp pages. Makoto waved Taka with a smile and wandered over, looking down at it curiously, before pulling up a chair.
“... The history of Ultimate Despair?” He observed uncertainly, drawing his knees up to his chest and balancing his heels on the seat. “Why did you bring this?”
“It’s the anniversary,” Kyoko said simply. “One year today since Ultimate Despair almost smashed our world to pieces.”
“Yeah,” Makoto leaned forward as she opened the book. “And the ultimate hope stopped them, right? Kaede Akamatsu.”
“Mhm. Akamatsu gave her life in sacrificial form of Usami energy, Hope energy; life energy...” Kyoko spoke in hushed tones, flipping through the pages ever so carefully... they had been just like them, probably sat in this very same classroom. Ultimate Despair, led by Junko Enoshima - the Despairs had united with Kaede to stop Junko and locked her away in a parallel world, where nobody could reach her and her despair couldn’t reach others... then, they disappeared after Kaede used up all her Usami energy to do so, and passed away. The Ultimate Despair were thought to search for Ultimate, unending and infinite Hope - of course, this only led them down a dark path. One that caused more destruction as their carelessness for anything that wasn’t that Hope destroyed so much around them. Word had it that they disbanded and led normal lives around the world... some were not so easily convinced.
“This book is a simple summary written of those events, by Akamatsu’s dear friend Shuichi Saihara.” Kyoko nodded. “He disappeared too. Along with the others in her graduate class.”
“Hey,” Makoto stopped her hand as she went to turn a page. “Are those profiles?”
“Yes.” Kyoko left the page open... on it? Six pictures. The first one was of a boy with unruly white hair, sickeningly pale skin and dull green eyes - he was beaming at whatever camera took his picture, though. The second was a girl with blonde hair, wearing a kimono - she looked like a traditional dancer, of sorts. The third was a... man? He could only be described as a man due to his booming presence, slicked grey and black hair, scar striking one of his eyes, scarf covering the lower half of his face - he had what appeared to be a hamster on his shoulder? Odd... the fourth was a boy with shocking pink hair and scarily sharp teeth, also grinning. Number 5 came in to be a girl with steely grey hair and red eyes, in the picture her hand was a blur as she swung something around - it was long and sharp, a sword maybe? The final picture was a girl with a blue and pink punkish scheme, she was on a stage with an electric guitar.
“Nagito Komaeda...” Makoto pointed at each of them in turn. “Hiyoko Saionji. Gundham Tanaka. Kazuichi Soda. Peko Pekoyama. Ibuki Mioda... they were all ultimates. Komaeda was lucky, like me. But who’s this one?” He pointed at the final image, which was merely a question mark, with the words ‘Kamukura Project Failure?’ plastered on it. “What’s the Kamukura Project?”
“It was the plan to create artificial hope.” Kyoko said. “See, it would make sense, at least in Saihara’s findings, for whatever was produced in the Kamukura project to be on side with Ultimate Despair in their search for Hope. Some people say they plucked someone from the streets and brainwashed them, some people say the person went willingly. A lot of people assume that project ended in failure and the person went on to search for Hope where they could not find it in themselves, others say that the gain of the successful Hope gave that person the understanding to conceal themselves right in plain sight.” She shrugged. “Saihara didn’t know, and if the Ultimate Despair did, well, they’re gone now.”
Makoto sighed. “It’s... so weird. I-“
He was cut off as the classroom door slid open... Byakuya Togami, the Ultimate Affluent Prodigy, ambled into the room and to his desk.
“Ah... Byakuya? Why are you limping?” Makoto asked.
“Quiet,” Byakuya spat, seething and leaning down, squeezing his ankle. “Not a word.”
Kyoko looked at him, bored - “Whatever happened to you isn’t his fault. Don’t be snappy. Answer his question, he’s only concerned because he considers you a friend.”
Byakuya huffily whipped his glasses off and cleaned them on the corner of his blazer - it was a while before he said anything, and he still didn’t look at them while talking. “That maniac thought it would be a good idea to attempt to string me up like a hare. I saw her trap just in the nick of time but it still caught me slightly, causing me to trip and twist my ankle. Are you happy now?” He spat.
“And by that maniac, you mean...”
“Toko... fucking... Fukawa.” Byakuya rasped. Makoto was taken aback - Byakuya rarely cussed!
That was normal... Toko Fukawa trying to tie Byakuya Togami up was an everyday occurrence. When it came to lunchtime, Byakuya bombarding Makoto with insults was an everyday occurrence. Aoi Asahina sharing her donuts was normal. Leon Kuwata, Sakura Ogami and Mondo Owada being the only ones capable of running laps at gym was normal. Chihiro Fujisaki acing the computer lab test was normal. Sayaka Maizono fawning over Celestia Ludenberg’s sense of style was normal. Hifumi Yamada and Kiyotaka Ishimaru feuding was normal, only to normally be stopped by Yasuhiro Hagakure unsuccessfully trying to calm them... this day truly was just a day like any other.
And, like normal, Makoto was leaving school via the back roads alone, en route to the hidden away pharmacy at the back of town... which was kind of dodgy, if Makoto thought about it, but ah well.
The bushes along this road were rather high. Taller than Makoto, in any case - they were cute though, leafy green and all... jeez, he really had to get some headphones to play music while he walked. Imagine describing bushes as cute. He stared at his feet, wringing his hands as he trailed along slowly, playing a game where he wouldn’t allow himself to step on a crack in the pavement - he felt enclosed here, he had never seen anyone along this path, and the bushes on either side concealed him from outside view, nobody else ever came he-
“Augh!” Suddenly, he went flying - right into one of said bushes, the branches snapping thinly against even the small weight of his lithe body. He slide down to the floor and rubbed his back. “Oww...”
“S-sorry,” the shover mumbled - they had gone flying too, into the ground though, they had tripped forward it seemed - a bit of blood from a graze on their hand stained their white shirt.
“I-it’s alright,” Makoto said, standing and dusting himself off. “It was an accident! Accidents happen.” He smiled and turned around, holding his hand out.
The shover stared up at him uncertainly, on their - his - back now, propped up on one elbow. He looked almost scared, for some reason.
“Uh, yeah... thanks...” he took Makoto’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled up, he stood a good few inches above the Ultimate Lucky Student.
“I’m Makoto,” Naegi grinned. “Nice meeting you!”
“Y-you...” the shover shook his head. Hey, he had a sticky up piece of hair too. “Ah. H-Hajime. Is my name. My name is Hajime.”
Hajime looked down at his hand. Bleeding a bit, nothing a rinse under the tap wouldn’t fix - he could hear his boyfriend’s voice now. ‘Just my luck, Hajime! You fell because of me! I’m so useless...’
“Well Hajime, I’m on my way to the pharmacy if you want me to pick you up a plaster or something,” Makoto gestured to the same bleeding hand... Hajime shook his head.
“No, I’m okay. Thanks.” He shoved his stinging hand in his pocket. Jeans and a shirt, tie and trainers? Sure, it seemed both of them had odd style senses. “W-well, I’ll see you later. Sorry again,” he turned to walk away.
Makoto was about to wave him goodbye when he frowned. Hajime looked quite young. How come...
“Hey,” he blurted before he could stop himself - Hajime raised an eyebrow at him.
“...Never mind. See you!” Makoto grinned, maybe he wasn’t as young as he looked. That would explain why Makoto hadn’t seen him at school before, because Makoto used to attend Towa high too - even if Hajime wasn’t an ultimate he would have seen him there.
He walked jauntily along the path once more, before an odd sound stopped him - he stilled immediately, listening hard.
“...Go on!”
“What-? No! You go!”
“I can’t! I have to stay here.”
“Why.”
“A useless human like me would mess things up so, so badly...”
“N-... Come on. Don’t throw that at me. Don’t be like that.”
“I can’t do anything, Hajime! Heh... haha! Wh-what if I accidentally killed him when I bumped into him? Did you know tha-“
“Shh! You won’t mess it up, okay? I can’t do it again because I’ve already walked into him once. Imagine the chances of that just so happening again.”
Was that... Hajime? From what Makoto was hearing, that collision was on purpose...? No, surely not. Well, the only thing to do was to plough ahead and find out, right? He tiptoed along the sunset lit paved path until he was *right next to* the voices, inside... inside the bush!?
He plunged his hands in and pulled the spiky leaves apart, the first face he saw was in fact Hajime’s, easily recognisable with one red eye and one green eye - he scanned up the other figure after that, stood directly in front of Hajime in the thicket... ah... huh?
Wavy white hair... ghostly pale skin... dead green eyes... wild grin when greeted by Makoto’s face...
“Wh- huh? I- AAAAH!” he was staring DIRECTLY at Nagito Komaeda, one of Ultimate Despair’s head lackeys! He screamed and turned tail to run away, but was grabbed and shrieked, kicking and screaming - one hand restrained his front, that hand was human - there was another cold one around his neck, made of... metal.
“See! What did I tell you, Hajime?” It was Nagito holding him. “I told you I would mess it up!”
“That’s not- well, whatever.” Hajime huffed. “Let’s just take him back.”
“No! No! Get off of me! I’m not your hope! I’m not anything!” Makoto wailed.
Nagito sounded disappointed. “Oh... he thinks we’re going to hurt him.”
“You have your hand around his neck.”
“Ah!” Nagito unleashed Makoto and he tried to run off, but Nagito had hold of his collar. “Sorry! Sorry. My name i-“
“I know what your name is!” Makoto bawled. “Now leave me alone! Help! Help!”
Nagito scowled. “How rude! It’s only polite to introduce yourself.”
Hajime walked around to be in front of Makoto, rubbing his hands on his face. “Ugh. Stop yelling. People screaming for help when they’re caught is so... boring. Try switching it up.” His face was cruelly blank. “You aren’t even caught that badly.”
“But-!”
“But nothing!” Nagito said gleefully. “Now, Makoto Naegi! You’re coming with us!” Now, Nagito had absolutely no experience with acupuncture pressure points, but, relying on his luck, he took a thin needle and stabbed it into Makoto’s back. Of course, being the luckiest person alive? Makoto drifted off immediately, falling limp in his arms - suddenly, this was not a normal day at all.