Chapter Text
For a moment, Makoto Naegi hesitates. He can’t place why, but an awful sense of foreboding creeps up on him as he stands at the foot of his door. When Sayaka came to him last night… She seemed so afraid. Maybe it was irrational, but that same fear she felt then grasped at him now. Sure, no one disturbed him from Sayaka’s room, but… it wasn’t impossible that whoever it was that was harassing her figured out their deception.
Just then, Makoto looks up to find something strange. Even though this is his door, Sayaka’s nameplate is clearly on display. Why would that…? Even more questions grip at his mind, the anxiety he had held since last night bubbling up to the surface. What exactly is happening, he can’t say, but it gives him an awful feeling nonetheless.
Makoto steels his nerves and grits his teeth as he forces the door open. Rather than reassurance, he only finds more questions; his walls are lined with scratches, his furniture is haphazardly knocked about, and the katana he had picked out for protection lays unsheathed on the floor. The sight sends a chill down Makoto’s spine. There's no way this is good…
Slowly, his breath caught in his throat, Makoto makes his way into his room. He’d slept there for three nights now, but still he creeps through it as if it were wholly unexplored territory; right now, it may as well be. Sayaka is nowhere to be found… Maybe, Makoto tells himself, she went off to the cafeteria without him? It's unlikely, he realizes, but it gives him some small hope to cling to.
It isn’t long before Makoto's eyes turn to the bathroom. The door, which Monokuma had taken great care to bring Makoto’s attention to, has been knocked off one of its hinges, leaving it to swing limply, half-open. That nagging sense of foreboding comes back to him twice as strong, his heart beating out of his chest as he approaches it. With a gentle pull, he opens the door…
And there, on the concrete floor of his shower, he sees Sayaka Maizono with her head in her hands.
Slowly, shakily, Sayaka lifts her head. Her carefully-applied makeup runs down her cheeks in messy, tearstained streaks, her eyes a strained pink. “M-Makoto…” she murmurs hoarsely. She meets Makoto’s eyes for just a moment, then averts her gaze. “Please… Don’t look at me…”
Makoto finds himself at a loss for words. Sayaka… she's always been a light to him, cheerful and kind and dependable. Certainly, she’d had her moments of fear, of darkness, but it was nothing like this. She’s nearly catatonic… A deep concern takes hold of Makoto, unsure how to comfort his friend even as he desperately wants to. At the same time, though, he feels a strange sense of relief. Though he didn’t dare consciously consider it, a small part of him expected to find something much, much worse when he opened that door. Sayaka is hurt, shaken to her core, but… she's alive. That, at least, was reassurance.
Finally, Makoto speaks. “Sayaka… are you alright?” Immediately afterwards, he feels stupid for asking – of course she isn’t alright, you dolt – but he has to say something, and that's all he could think of. Sayaka doesn’t answer; she shrinks up, turning her head back even further as if trying to look as far away from Makoto as possible. Again, Makoto feels stupid.
After a long moment of silence, Makoto speaks again. “U-um… Is there anything I can do to help?” The question is hesitant, but earnest; the room becomes just the slightest bit less tense.
“Mmm... “ Sayaka opens her mouth to speak, pausing for a moment to gather her words. Makoto can’t help but wonder what she’s thinking… obviously, something awful happened, but it wasn’t Makoto’s place to pry. All he could do right now was offer his help, the question, then, being whether or not Sayaka was willing to accept it. Finally, Sayaka looks towards Makoto and asks, “C-could you help me to my room? Please?”
“Y-yeah, totally!” Makoto replies, a bit too enthusiastically. “Do you need help standing?” At a glance, Sayaka doesn’t seem wounded, but, then, Makoto doubts his ability to tell something like that from just a glance.
Sayaka shakes her head no, and begins to pick herself up. Makoto can’t help but notice that she only uses one hand to do so; her other hangs limply to her side, bent at what has to be an uncomfortable angle. Still, Makoto doesn’t comment; he has a feeling Sayaka wouldn’t tell even if he asked. It takes some effort, but she’s able to get herself off the ground.
Now on her feet, Sayaka looks towards Makoto expectantly. There’s… something behind her strained eyes that makes Makoto pause. Is it fear? Guilt? Whatever it is, it makes Makoto feel uneasy. Clearly, there’s a lot that Sayaka isn’t telling him…
Whatever. He puts it out of his mind; right now, Sayaka needs him. What kind of person would he be if he just left her crying in his bathroom because he didn’t like how she looked at him? He takes her hand and gives her a reassuring smile. At least, he tries to… Frustratingly, his attempt at reassurance only seems to make Sayaka even more uncomfortable. What is up with her?
Despite his unease, he begins to lead Sayaka out of his room. He really wants to ask her just what happened to make such a mess of the place, but… well, it's pretty obvious that it wouldn't accomplish much. He gives her a brief look back, noting how she keeps her eyed trained squarely on the floor. Just being there is enough to leave both of them feeling awfully uncomfortable… Makoto sighs and walks faster until he reaches the door.
The hall is empty by the time they reach it; it seems everyone else has already left towards the cafeteria. Makoto grimaces as he thinks about the chewing out he was bound to get from Taka… It’s not like he doesn’t have a good reason, but, then, he doubts Taka will entertain it as anything more than an excuse.
He hears a grumbling from Sayaka’s stomach; she must’ve noticed something similar, the thought of the cafeteria setting it off. “Are you hungry, Sayaka?” Makoto asks, figuring the answer was pretty obvious but wanting to hear her say it regardless.
Sayaka opens her mouth to speak, then closes it just to nod slowly. “Alright, then, do you wanna go to the cafeteria?”
“N-no…” Sayaka says weakly. “I-I really just wanna go to my room…” Even as she says it, her stomach grumbles louder than before. Makoto lowers his eyebrows and frowns, not sure how to take her wariness.
Ultimately, it’s the thought of Taka shouting at him that pushes him to argue. “No, you should really eat. You don’t have to stay there for long, but you should at least eat something.”
Sayaka grimaces, clearly uncomfortable with the suggestion. She opens her mouth to argue, but… a glimpse of Makoto’s concerned face is enough for her to close it, seemingly resigned to follow him.
Makoto smiles sweetly. “Good… you'll feel better with something in your stomach.” He takes her in the direction of the cafeteria, hoping he's right about her feeling better afterwards.
Makoto opens the cafeteria doors carefully, hoping not to draw too much attention. Sure enough, they're the last to arrive; even Byakuya, who'd made a big show about not needing to show up if he didn't want to, is there, sitting alone at a table in the far back. Makoto can't help but feel embarrassed… Not only are they the last to show, but they come in holding hands. Comforting Sayaka is important to hum, but he can't help but worry about what his classmates might think...
Just as predicted, Taka is quick to scold them for their tardiness: “Makoto Naegi! Sayaka Maizono! You both are unconscionably late!” As he marches up to them, he notices Sayaka's hand in Makoto's, his face turning crimson from the sheer scandal of it. “A-and that kind of public display of affection is not appropriate for a school environment! Please, keep your hands to yourselves!”
Makoto quickly pulls his hand away, laughing sheepishly. “S-sorry, Taka… I know we're late, it's just…” He turns to Sayaka for some indication whether or not she'd be okay with him going into any detail, but she just stares blankly at the floor, taking no notice of him. “Uh… I-it's just that Sayaka really needed my help with something.. She had a rough night, and I'd feel awful just leaving her on her own.”
Taka narrows his eyes, taking a moment to study the two's facial expressions. Finally, he sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “Well… If she really needed your assistance, I suppose it can't be helped. Just try not to be so late again, will you?”
“Of course, thanks for understanding.” Makoto smiles, taking Sayaka's hand again to lead her to a seat (Taka shouts something about PDA, but Makoto chooses to ignore it).
Makoto takes the first empty seat he can find, gesturing for Sayaka to take the one next to him. To his surprise, though, she freezes up, shivering at the thought of it. “U-um… C-can we sit somewhere else?”
Uhh… What? Makoto finds himself puzzled by her trepidation. As far as he can tell, there isn't anything different about this seat compared to any of the others… He scans the surrounding area, finding nothing out of the ordinary…
That is, until he sees Leon.
Leon, normally so cheerful and laidback, glares at Sayaka with a look that could kill. Sayaka, in turn, seems totally paralyzed by his icy stare, her eyes glazing over and her breaths becoming short and staggered.
A painful gulp snakes down Makoto's throat; for a reason he can't place, he feels himself start to panic as well. Before he even realizes what he's saying, he turns to Leon and asks, “Uh… Wh-what happened?”
Leon scoffs, turning his glare to Makoto. “Don't ask me… She knows exactly what happened.” A quick, narrow-eyed glance in her direction – and her noticeable flinch in return – tell Makoto all he needs to know.
Slowly, he turns towards her. He expects her to turn away, but, this time, she's too shaken even for that. “Sayaka…” Makoto struggles to get the words out; Sayaka is suspicious, absolutely, but it still pains him to ask her something that so clearly hurts for her to hear. “C-could… Could you please tell me what happened?”
Sayaka is silent. Her and Leon's strange behavior have drawn the attention of the others, and, Makoto figures, she must know that whatever she says will be heard by everyone in the room. For what feels like much too long, the whole class waits with bated breath for Sayaka to speak; Sayaka tries to say something, anything, but she can't bring herself to make a sound. She's disappointing everyone, and she knows it.
The room isn't quiet for much longer before Leon decides he's had enough. “What, you aren't gonna say it? Fine, then, I guess it's my job.” Leon pulls himself up off his chair, taking a deep breath before announcing to the whole class, “Last night, this crazy bitch tried to kill me.”
…What? Makoto had no idea what he expected, but… he hadn't even imagined that was a possibility. His mind races for anything that could prove Leon wrong, anything that could exonerate his closest companion, but, as he searches hopelessly for answers in Sayaka's empty expression, he finds himself with nothing.
The room is silent again, but this silence is different. Curiosity morphs into suspicion, frustration into anger, as the weight of Leon's accusations hits them. “What the fuck?” Mondo blurts out. “You're saying the pop star tried to kill you ?”
Kyoko glares at Leon, studying him intently. “You understand this is a serious accusation, don’t you? We’re going to need to see proof before we can believe you.”
Leon scoffed. “Oh, I have proof, alright!” He yanks something out of his pocket, a crumpled wad of paper. With a dramatic flair, he slams it onto the table for everyone to read. The group quickly forms a crowd, pushing and shoving for a view, but a loud “Stop!” from Taka puts a swift end to the chaos.
“ I'll read it…” he says tersely, picking the crumpled paper off the table as he reads out:
There’s something I want to talk to you about, just us two. In five minutes, come see me in my room. Check the nameplates to make sure you don't get the wrong room, okay?
“...Sayaka.” Taka finishes, his conflicted expression saying it all; he was skeptical at first, but this letter is strong evidence in favor of Leon’s story.
Without thinking, Makoto blurts out, “There’s no proof that Sayaka wrote that! Y-you could’ve totally just made that up!” It’s flimsy, he knows, but that flimsy hope is still easier for Makoto to accept than Sayaka just up and killing someone.
Leon stares daggers. “Dude… I know she’s your girlfriend or whatever, but you really don’t gotta defend her like that. Honestly, it’s kinda pathetic...” Makoto flinches, feeling the class’ skeptical eyes bearing down on him. He wishes he had something more concrete, he really does, but…
With Makoto shut up, Leon continues. “So, yeah, I get this letter slipped under my door. I figure, oh, she’s coming on to me. I mean, that’s what that implies, right?” He waits for the class to indicate their agreement; only Taka expresses any dispute, and even then more with the concept of students coming onto each other late into the night than with Leon’s assumption. Makoto stays quiet, frustrated with just how much of a show Leon was making of this, and Sayaka… well, she hasn’t moved an inch since Leon first accused her.
“So I open the door, looking forward to a night of fun with a bona fide celebrity, when, before I can even get a word out, she just lunges at me with a knife!” The room seems to perk up, the sheer drama of Leon’s story drawing everyone in. “I’m able to dodge, but she just keeps coming at me… I run further into the room, and I get this katana that was there for some reason to block her. I knock the knife out of her hand, and I try to get some kind of explanation out of her, but she just runs into the bathroom and locks herself in there. Honestly, I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried…”
A wave of murmurs spreads throughout the cafeteria. Leon’s story was compelling, and Sayaka’s petrified reaction really wasn’t doing her any favors. Even Makoto, who wants more than anything to the ability to dismiss Leon’s wild story, finds himself at a loss for words to counter his accusation. The more he thinks about it, the harder it is to deny… He thinks of Sayaka’s wrist, most likely injured by Leon knocking the knife out of her hand, and of her position inside his bathroom, just where Leon claims she retreated to. He looks nervously towards Sayaka, silently begging for her to say anything, anything at all, in her defense, but she seems to have fully dissociated a long time ago.
Besides Makoto, the rest of the class seems to have fully made up their minds. “Jesus…” Junko says under her breath. “Sayaka, did you really do that shit?”
“I-I don’t d-doubt it…” Toko notes. “You c-can’t trust p-popular girls for anything. Psychopaths, a-all of them…”
Hifumi nods, confidently musing, “Yes, yes, of course... Modern audiences find the perfect popular girl trope so boring. It’s only natural she would turn out to be a crazy, knife-wielding yandere!”
“U-um…” Aoi begins to speak, her eyes darting around for approval before continuing. “Actually… l-last night, I saw Sayaka in the kitchen. She… I think she might have grabbed a knife.”
“I can confirm this,” Sakura adds, though she’s clearly uncomfortable implicating her classmate. “Aoi and I stayed late last night in the dining hall. We noticed Sayaka entering the kitchen… I can’t say for sure, but it’s possible she could have obtained a knife just then.”
Sakura and Aoi’s words hit Makoto like a shot to his heart. If the accusation was difficult to deny before, it’s impossible to deny now. Sayaka tried to kill Leon, that much is obvious. But… Makoto still has so, so many questions.
“E-everyone, hold on!” He feels the weight of everyone’s impatient glares on him; his feeble attempt at defending Sayaka before definitely impacted how they all saw him. “I-I’m not saying you’re wrong… Honestly, I don’t know if I can… b-but there’s something that still confuses me…”
Leon raises an eyebrow, clearly annoyed that Makoto still hasn’t fully accepted the obvious. “Well? What is it?”
Makoto hesitates, still uneasy with the idea of sharing what he was about to say. “I-it’s just… last night, Sayaka came to my room. She s-said that she felt unsafe in her own room, and that she wanted to sleep in my room for the night. I’m just wondering… if she was just gonna try and kill someone, why would she do that?”
It’s Byakuya who answers, as bluntly as ever: “Isn’t it obvious? She was trying to frame you.”
Makoto nearly feels his heart stop. All of this was hard to accept, but… Sayaka framing him for murder? That was… ridiculous…
“If you’ll recall,” Byakuya continues, “the letter Leon produced makes specific note of the rooms’ nameplates. That’s especially curious if what Makoto says about trading rooms is true.” Suddenly, everything makes sense. This whole time, the nameplate on his door had bugged him. He’d wanted an explanation, but this… this was the last thing he wanted to hear.
Kyoko stands up to speak. “It seems that there’s no reason to doubt Leon’s accusation. All of the evidence lines up.” She strides towards Sayaka, a look of cold determination on her face. “Sayaka Maizono… you can stop playing broken, now.”
For a moment, all is still. Kyoko stares into Sayaka’s empty eyes, the rest of the class – Makoto, especially – watching the two intently.
Then, Sayaka cracks.
She begins to shake violently, her teary eyes darting around the room. “I-I… I…” she stammers desperately. She’s cornered, and she knows it.
It’s Makoto who speaks next. “Sayaka… please, can you explain yourself? I don’t want to think you’re a bad person, but if you don’t say anything…” He feels his eyes sting as he looks desperately towards his friend. “Please, just say something…”
There is another moment of silence.
And then, she runs.
“I’m sorry!” she yells, turning away from her classmates' judgmental stares as she bolts out of the cafeteria.
“Oh shit… Someone, stop-” Mondo shouts, but by the time the words are out, she’s already left the room. “Goddammit… Why the fuck did no one stop her?”
“I-I didn’t think she would run!” Taka shouts defensively; besides Makoto, he was the only one standing between her and the door.
“What do you mean, ‘you didn’t think she would run?’ It was fuckin’ obvious!”
Mondo and Taka argue back and forth like that for a while, but Makoto quickly tunes them out; all that matters to him right now is getting answers. When he feels no one is paying attention to him, he rushes towards the exit, desperate to flag Sayaka down.
He doesn’t make it far; before he can even leave the room, his path is blocked. Right there, staring Makoto down with that twisted, shit-eating grin, was a certain sadistic little teddy bear.
“Puhuhuhu… Puhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu!”