Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It all begins with an abyss, as most things do. The boy stands there, on some invisible platform, with shut eyes and an utterly empty mind. He does not yet know who he is. He does not yet know of his own existence. He is a slate painted with white to appear blank.

To his knowledge, his birth comes at the same moment as a door springs into being in front of him. Every molecule in his body feels as if it is being pulled towards the door, tugging his hand up to grasp the knob. His mind is less empty now, but everything is still a tad foggy. He doesn’t remember ever seeing this door before. He doesn’t remember seeing anything before. It’s all a bit too new.

Slowly, he pushes the door open and, without thinking, takes a step into the room. Keep that in mind, he thinks, I can walk. Looking up again, he’s not so sure.

This is more stimulus than he can ever remember feeling in his life. Fifteen other people stand before him, littered around a busy classroom, chattering away. It is loud, and it is bright, and he has never experienced this before- it’s incredibly overwhelming. His knees feel like jelly. (Or at least, that’s what he assumes. He does not technically know what jelly feels like.)

Before the boy can fully process what’s in front of him, the people in the room all begin speaking to him.

“Who goes there?” A girl with silver hair squints her eyes, seemingly trying to look casual and intimidating at the same time, arms crossed firmly over her chest. She is clearly someone trained for battle, given her stance and the way she holds herself. The boy does not know how he knows this.

A very fair-skinned young woman standing to the left of him asks, “Um… are you feeling alright? You look quite pale…” Her voice is stilted, with an accent the boy recognizes as being from a small European nation called Novoselic. Judging from her appearance in comparison to the others, he can tell that he is at least correct in assuming she’s European. Her eyes are rounder and her features are a tad more angular. She looks very concerned for him, despite not knowing who he is. He deduces that she must be a kind soul, or at the very least tries to seem like one.

His analysis is interrupted by the voice of a redhead standing next to one of the desks. Her eyes are steely and determined, similar to the silver-haired girl but with more emotion caught in them. “Hey could you be… you’re also a first year at this school, right?” His head immediately supplies the name Hope’s Peak Academy. The name comes with a wave of shivering dread, drenching the boy to his core. Seeing his slight shivers, the redhead raises an eyebrow and begins to open her mouth before she’s interrupted by a young man with bright pink hair. (She appears to be very perceptive. He would bet she has a lot of practice paying visual attention to things.)

“Yeah, we’re all first years, too!” Immediately upon looking at him, the boy can tell that this eccentric-looking young man has dyed his hair.  His roots are not visible, but his hair has a certain texture which would imply it’s been bleached, or at least treated with something like that. Along with the pink hair, he has also elected to wear color contacts, put on eyeliner, and wear neon clothing. Judging from all this, the boy can extrapolate that this young man is trying way, way too hard. What it is exactly that he’s trying to do or be, the boy isn’t sure. He is certainly far less perceptive than the young woman who had spoken before him.

The boy is still unsure about what’s going on, but judging by the confused faces on the people around him, so is everyone else. This should be a comforting thought, but for some reason there is a deep sense of unsettlement beneath his skin. As if this is what he’s used to, and it explains nothing. His hands itch to curl against where they sit at his legs, but he refrains, keeping himself calm. It feels important that he always appears calm and confident.

“I assume… first years like us have been gathered in this classroom.” The next person to speak is a sleepy-looking girl with pink-ish hair. Unlike the majority of the others, who are standing cautiously, she’s elected to take a seat at one of the desks. Despite a slight nervous look on her face, the boy can tell that she is… unfazed. He makes a mental note of it to remember that. Why would this girl, out of everyone, not be worried? And, he continues to wonder, why can he tell that she is not?

The boy looks hard at her, as if trying to find where he had discerned her feelings, before being distracted by a fat young man beckoning him farther into the room. “You there, speak. You haven’t said a word the entire time you’ve been here. It is disrespectful.” At first glance, there appears to be nothing wrong with the young man in the white suit, but upon a second glance of further inspection, the boy can tell that something… something is off about him. And after a third glance, he can tell-

“Yeah, you look all gloomy! It makes you look freaky!” Before the boy can finish his thought, a short girl speaks up from the center of the room. Her eyes are narrowed and lips are curled back in a sassy snarl. It’s quite the contradiction from her cutesy appearance, but the boy assumes her curated image is on purpose. No one could possibly get mad at someone so sweet and childish-looking, after all. It’s a strategic tactic which is almost similar to playing dead. She has certainly thought her appearance through. It is somewhat impressive, the way it already appears to fool everyone around them.

The young man in the white suit speaks up again. “Silence. Now that everyone is here, we may start our discussion. Now, does anyone remember how they got here?” That sparks the boy’s interest.

Everyone exchanges looks between each other, looking for someone who might know what’s going on. The search appears to be futile, though, as no one steps forward, and everyone wears the same bewildered face.

The blonde boy continues. “Then everyone here is in the same predicament. The moment you stepped foot on campus, you felt a strange dizziness, and now you’re here and you don’t know why. That is what I experienced before I arrived here. Am I correct in assuming that’s true of all of you?” Campus? Dizziness? He searches for any recollection of the events in his mind, but comes up with nothing, only memories of waking up in a void and opening a door. Despite his cluelessness, everyone else nods. “I do wonder… who is responsible for this situation.”

A large man speaks up, interrupting any speculation anyone could raise. “That’s a minor problem. Instead of trying to figure out how we got here, we should figure out why we can’t leave.”

A muscular dark-skinned girl speaks up, eyebrow raised. “Whaddaya mean we can’t leave?”

“Eh?! Seriously?!” A short boy in a chef’s outfit rushes over to the door, trying valiantly to rench it open with no luck. “I can’t open it! It won’t open!” He spluttered, waving his hands nervously.

A panic erupted through the room. Through it all, the amnesiac boy cuts his gaze through the small crowd until he locks eyes with the sleepy girl. Before, she hadn’t looked at him, only checking on the people around her. But now, seeing his face in full, her eyes widen minutely. If it were anyone else, they might not have noticed, but he could tell she was shocked. Quickly, the girl averts her eyes, scanning the ground as if it would give her the answer to whatever was troubling her. The boy narrows his eyes, then tears them away, tuning back into the conversation.

The boy in the neon clothes pulls his beanie tight over his forehead, nearly obscuring his eyes. “M-maybe we’re getting mixed up in something dangerous?” From what he’s seen, the young man has become increasingly frantic over the time they’ve been stuck in the classroom.

A frail-looking boy speaks up. “Or perhaps... doesn’t it make more sense to think that this is the entrance exam?” Based on the white-haired boy’s boney figure and wispy white hair, along with other cues that the boy couldn’t put his finger on, told him that this young man was very, very sick. Deathly so. With exactly what, he couldn’t decipher- he’d need equipment to be able to tell. 

What he can tell is that the white-haired boy has an analytical glint in his eye, taking in information and processing it at an impressive speed. The boy can practically see him connecting the dots of their situation. It’s not the same knowing look as the girl from before, but it’s not far off.

However, he was incorrect in his statement.

“Hope’s Peak Academy has no entrance exam.” The boy says with a clear and deep voice. It’s his first time hearing his own voice. It is flat, and monotone. Passable. Average. Boring.

The white-haired boy doesn’t seem to think so. His eyes flit to the boy immediately, a blush quickly covering his cheeks. “Ah… are- are you sure? They may say that publically, but the exam could be a well-kept secret.”

“Not possible. Do not debate me on this.”  If the boy didn’t know any better, he’d say the other was suffering from heat exhaustion judging by his red face. He seems too stunned to do anything but follow the orders given to him.

“This young man is correct!” A bubbly, high-pitched voice says from somewhere in the room. It sounds feminine, yet distinctly inhuman. Looking around at the others, the boy isn’t sure they’ve gleaned that artificial undertone yet. “This is not an entrance exam.”

A short, freckled boy speaks up with a surprisingly rude voice. “Uh… Who the fuck was that?”

The pink-haired girl gets up warily and walks over to the front of the room. “It sounds like it came from behind the teacher’s desk…” As she leans over to peek behind the desk, the boy cannot help but notice how her lines and actions seem vaguely rehearsed. As if she’s following guidelines given to her by a director, but not reading directly from the script.

“Alright!” The enthusiastic voice rings out again. “I see everyone has arrived! Let’s begin!” Something leaps out from right in front of the pink-haired girl, barely missing her nose. As it leaps onto the desk, the teenagers can finally put a face to the voice they’ve been hearing.

And boy is it a peculiar one.

A pinkish-white stuffed rabbit stands before them wearing a frilly pink magical girl costume and a bow. It holds an ornate winged staff in one hand, matching the wings sprouting from its back. The boy has not seen many things, and yet he knows it is the strangest thing he’s ever seen or will see for a long time, if not the rest of his life.

The European girl speaks up, clearly rattled by the sight before her. “What… is that…?!”

“It looks like a stuffed animal…” says the redhead, clearly confused but with a brave face plastered on.

And then, if there was any doubt in their mind that the voice they’d heard belonged to this stuffed animal, it went out the window. Because the thing moved its mouth and talked . “That’s right! I am a squeezably soft stuffed animal! Magical Miracle Girl Usami! A.K.A. Usami! I may not look like it, but I am your squeezably soft teacher. Nice to meet you all!”

For a moment, the whole crowd is stunned into silence. But the quiet is soon interrupted by panicked, confused voices talking over each other.

“What the fuck is going on?!”

“This is very strange!”

“Am I hallucinating?!”

“Nah, I see it too…”

“What on Earth is this beast?!”

“What’s with this talkin’ chihuahua?!”

Usami seems to pick the final voice out of the bunch, and responds to the muscular, wild-haired girl with a sweet and understanding tone. “Does everybody here know what a rabbit is?” For some reason taking the stunned silence as a no, she continues on. “It’s a loveable animal that’s very fluffy and soft. That’s what I am!”

The short boy in the chef hat yells in shock and disbelief. “Th-this can’t be real!”

The rude, cutesy boy from earlier speaks again. “I-it’s probably remote controlled or something… Yeah, definitely. Don’t act like such a pussy over a child’s toy.” Even despite his bravado, everyone can see his nervous eyes, flitting about in an attempt to understand. The freckled boy sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself than anything.

“I’m not a toy! I’m the leader of this school trip!”

“School trip…?” The fat young man mutters under his breath. Then, louder, “What do you mean, school trip?”

“Why, don’t be silly, you all know what a school trip is! A large group of students go on a chaperoned trip with a lead teacher! It’s the biggest event of the year!” Such a literal answer… “Now, let’s depart for the fun school trip!”

The teenagers had likely expected to leave the building and catch a plane or bus. Given this was a peculiar situation, the boy wasn’t quite sure if that was going to be the case. But still, despite his broad predictions, he was shocked by what happened next.

Usami began to wave her wand around, a pink glow filling the classroom. Sparkles fell from the air, adding to the magical effect. The classroom shuddered, and then… it opened. The ceiling split through the middle, shook a bit, and then fell in either direction away from the students, taking the walls with it. All of a sudden, the boy found himself on a sunny beach. The ocean glimmered, the sun shined, and the sand was hot and inviting. It was all he knew beaches to be. Nothing out of the ordinary- besides the fact that he was still standing on the floor of the classroom .

It had been a strange day. The boy had no knowledge of what his life was like before walking through that door. He’d awoken in a void and felt himself magnetically pulled to the entrance of a classroom. He met a group of peculiar teens, a few of which stood out the most for their odd behavior. A stuffed animal had begun to speak and use magic. And now, this.

Needless to say, it was a bit overwhelming. His brain felt like it was going to spark and explode. The logical thing to do would be to breathe deeply and take in his surroundings, then try to find answers. The illogical thing to do would be to black out where he stood and fall unconscious to the ground.

Naturally, he did the latter.

“You have been born anew, a phoenix from the ashes. I hereby christen you-”

Ticks catching lightning in a bottle. He will be their hope. Rest assured, his defects won’t be an issue. All traces of a former personality have been deleted.

“I hereby christen you-”

Clapping fills the room. Clapping- striking the palms of one’s hands together, typically in order to applaud someone or something. Are they applauding him? Is he a someone or is he a something?

Where did the other one go?

“I hereby christen you-”

He won’t be coming back any time soon.

“I hereby christen you-”

“Hey… Can you hear me…? Are you okay?” The white-haired boy from earlier leans over him, brows furrowed and face painted with concern.

It feels unnecessary to answer. Ignoring the sickly boy’s offered hand, he gracefully gathers himself up from his position laying in the sand. Looking around, he can tell- despite the fact that he’s almost sure he’s never seen a beach before- there is nothing out of the ordinary for the environment. Even the remainders of the classroom they’d been in previously are gone.

The white-haired boy tentatively speaks again, his raspy voice wavering slightly. “Ah… You’re probably wondering where we are. I’m really not sure. I think for now it’s best not to worry about it! The island seems safe, at least!” He seems oddly calm for the situation they’re in. The analytical boy’s mind begins to whir again. The calmness seems like a reaction that the sick boy had to practice, or at least that he gained through trial and error. It seems safe to infer that a lot of unexpected events have occured over the course of this young man’s life, and that he’s gotten used to it. The boy cannot help but be curious about what could have happened. “So, how are you feeling?” He speaks up again, still clearly hesitant at his companion’s lack of speech. “I was pretty worried when you fainted. I guess I understand why you would, though. It’s a lot to take in.” What an understatement. “But let’s start with introductions. I’m Komaeda Nagito, the Ultimate Lucky Student. It’s nice to meet you.” Komaeda smiles.

Once again, information surfaces in his mind against his will.

Ultimate Lucky Student. This talent is awarded once per year to a normal, untalented student via a random national lottery. It is the only opportunity for talentless students to attend Hope’s Peak Academy. Thus, it is a highly coveted position among the common populus of Japan. Many people have attempted to skew the lottery in their favor, often through bribery of high-ranking Hope’s Peak officials and/or scouts. However, as far as has been released to the public or Hope’s Peak Academy staff and students, this strategy has never succeeded.

Before him, Komaeda is still smiling, although it’s morphed into slight confusion. His hand, still outstretched for a handshake, has faltered. He is expectant, although the boy can’t fathom why. “And… you are?” Ah. That’s why.

The boy has not spoken yet. Speaking is done when one closes their vocal folds and begins to exhale, causing an increase in pressure. The vibration caused by this creates sound. Sound is something humans are instinctively able to create from their first breath, but speaking comes later in life. For someone who does not remember existing before an hour ago, it strikes him as strange that he understands and speaks Japanese.

“I do not know.” His voice is deep, smooth, and deadpan. It is nothing particularly amazing, but the boy can still see a faint blush rise on Komaeda’s face. Despite it not being particularly apparent, the pink stands out against his pale skin. His face is like that for a few moments before he seemingly blinks the awe out of his eyes and processes what the other boy just said.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Komaeda's brows furrow in concern and confusion. His eyes glaze a bit, as if he’s looking at a particularly difficult jigsaw puzzle.

“I mean that I do not remember. The first thing I can recall is waking up in the dark in front of a strange, glowing door.”

“Well,” Komaeda huffs. “That’s certainly a problem. Usami?” He calls out into the air to be met with a cheery response.

“Hiya, students! What can I do for you?” Her gleaming smile is way too bright- the boy could swear he sees glitter in her fake buck teeth. Everything about the plush rabbit is like a little girl’s idea of the cutest thing on Earth- bright, sparkly, pink, and with hearts and stars shining in her beady eyes. “Is something wrong? If it is, I can always help! I want everyone to be as happy as possible here.”

Komaeda takes a step back, shoulders raised to his ears as he stares warily at their stuffed teacher. “About that-” He points to the boy, not looking away from Usami for a moment. “He doesn’t remember who he is.”

Usami, who’d previously had her eyes glued to Komaeda, looks over to the boy in confusion. Whatever she was expected to see, he certainly wasn’t it. “Eep! W-what? Oh my! Oh my my my ! This wasn’t supposed to- you’re supposed to be- this isn’t good!” The rabbit shrunk in on herself, wringing the soft, plushy nubs where her paws should have been. Against the rules of biology, nervous sweat drips down her forehead. “Please, give me one moment.” She says, before disappearing into thin air with a puff of pink smoke and a loud pop.

Komaeda brings a hand to his chin in thought. “I wonder what that was all about.”

Ignoring him, the boy walks to the water’s edge, peering down into the ocean below. The water is clean, and the sun is shining on it just enough to clearly reflect his appearance. The appearance of a stranger. The first thing he notices is his hair, long, silky, and pitch black. It’s tied into a high ponytail, but seemingly not very well. One long, thick lock falls in his face. Another bunch of locks is tucked loosely behind his ear, some left to droop down, nearly covering his left eye. Even tied up as it is, his hair falls to his mid-thigh. He can’t imagine how bothersome it would be to have it down at his feet all the time. The second thing he notices is the piercing red eyes staring back at him. They peek out between tan eyelids, bright and intimidating. Red is a color associated with passion, love, and/or violence. His eyes are simply cold. Apathetic.

What a strange contradiction. One that he can’t bring himself to care about.

Another pop comes from behind him. Turning around, the boy can see confetti twirling down to the ground where Usami is standing holding some sort of electronic device. “Um, okay, sooooo… Sorry! I made a little mistake, heh heh…” She chuckles nervously. “Here’s your E-Handbook! I handed them out earlier! It should have your name on it.” Holding it out with both “paws”, Usami stares at him expectantly. “Take it. Please.”

Hm, the boy thinks to himself. She is just as in the dark as I am. Pressing a button on the side of the device, he turns on his E-Handbook. The screen blinks to life with a design he vaguely recognizes as the logo of Hope’s Peak Academy. The handbook has but a few apps- a map, a “report card” section, the device settings, what looks like a place to keep track of the belongings he has on him, a “pet” app, the trip rules, and an unnamed folder he does not yet have access to.

“Where’s his name?” Komaeda says from where he’s reading over the boy’s shoulder.

“Just go to the report card app! It’ll have the information of all the students on the trip! As soon as you meet them, at least. It has your information, too.”

Sure enough, when he taps the button for the report cards, there’s little pixelated icons of both himself and Komaeda, as well as fourteen other pixelated silhouettes yet to be filled in with color and details. Just like Usami said, a tap on his own icon shows, in large letters, an unfamiliar name.

“Hmmm… Kamukura Izuru. I have to say, it sounds awfully familiar to me,” Komaeda says. “But I have no clue how. Ring any bells, Kamukura-kun?”

“Not at all.” The boy- Izuru, he now knows- mutters, staring at Usami, who looks confused as ever. She’s whispering unintelligibly to herself, tugging on her eyes and continuing to sweat. Komaeda has clearly noticed as well judging from the way he nudges Kamukura and points to the worried rabbit. The two boys share a silent look. A quick exchange of subtle body language says what they both already know: neither knows what she’s panicking over.

Along with his name, Izuru’s profile contains a picture of himself that he does not remember being taken (although that’s not a surprise), some general information about his measurements, and his likes and dislikes- which is especially shocking because he does not even know his own likes and dislikes.

Likes: Exciting things.

Dislikes: Boredom.

“Is that not what everyone likes and dislikes?” Komaeda asks with a raised eyebrow. Exactly what Izuru had been thinking. He supposes even the handbook doesn’t know anything about him- besides his identity and physical attributes, at least. “I wonder if my profile is any more detailed…” The white-haired boy says in response to Izuru’s deadpan shrug.

Izuru clicks over to the other boy’s report card tab.

“Ah. No. Mine is certainly personal.” Komaeda blushes at the words on the screen.

Likes: Pretty things.

Dislikes: Noisy places.

“How blunt.” Izuru says, voice still emotionless. “Why-”

“Doesn’t matter!” Komaeda interrupts before Izuru can say anything else. Why would he care about what it says? Neither applies to me, Izuru thinks . “I’ve already met the others. Would you like to meet them, Kamukura-kun?” His blush rises again. “We can explore together.”

Izuru’s affirmative shrug speaks for itself.

“E-excellent!”

As the sandy beach gives way to a paved path beneath their travelling feet, Izuru looks behind them. Usami is gone. From behind where she once was, the lense of a security camera stares directly at him.

He wonders what reason anyone would have to watch them. He wonders how far in advance this ruse had been planned, if there are pre-designed pixelated icons for each member of the class. He wonders about the girl who clearly knew more than she was letting on.

But most of all, he wonders who exactly Kamukura Izuru is.

Elsewhere, someone else wakes up in a dark void interspersed with white spheres and cubes flying by. He scrambles to sit up, but only succeeds in flinging himself into a mid-air somersault, around and around in an environment seemingly devoid of gravity. “Wha- what the fuck?! Woah!”

A feminine voice cackles from somewhere in the void. “Calm down! Everything is fiiiiiiine.”

All of a sudden, his endless spin is stopped by the pointy heel of a designer shoe planted on his forehead. His eyes blink open, the world still wavering from vertigo. When everything finally stills, his gaze locks onto his savior. Before him floats a silhouette, legs crossed as if it’s sitting in a comfortable chair. It holds something large to its chest, though the area is too dark for him to see exactly what. The one thing he can see is the watery blue eyes of the figure, squinted in amusement.

“Before you ask any annoying questions- I’ve got a deal for you, mister!”

Chapter Text

“So…” Komaeda begins, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Where do you want to go first? I mean, assuming we want to go in a circle around the island- which we don’t have to! But if we do that, then it’d probably be best to start at either the airport or the central island across the bridge!”

“The bridge. I’ve never been on one before.” Izuru says, voice blank and unexpressive, especially compared to his companion’s excited tone.

Komaeda is unphased, continuing his babbling. “Oh, is that so? Well, it’s not too different from being on land… unless the bridge is unstable, that is. But you don’t want to be on an unstable bridge, it’s dangerous.” On the contrary, he does want to go on an unstable bridge. Izuru finds himself hoping that this bridge is broken in some way.

Sure enough, when they step onto the large passage between this island and the next, the wooden planks beneath their feet begin to sway back and forth with the wind. There’s no rhythm to it- the movement is relatively random. “It’s fun.” Izuru moves to the middle of the bridge and holds his arms out to his sides, letting the imbalance rock him around ever so slightly- not enough to push him over, but enough to create a strange feeling in his stomach. Dizziness, his mind supplies.

“Ah! I-I’m glad you’re having fun, Kamukura-kun, but could we please cross the bridge now please!” Komaeda nervously yells from somewhere behind him. When Izuru turns his head, he’s greeted with the sight of Komaeda clinging to the railing like his life depends on it, fists tightened in a white-knuckle grip.

Izuru’s shrug is seemingly enough confirmation for the other boy, who scrambles forward to the central island. Izuru doesn’t mind- the swaying was becoming repetitive anyway. Maybe he’ll fix the bridge when he gets the chance. Somehow, he knows he’s able to do so despite it being a difficult task by any normal person’s standards. Then again, it is becoming more and more apparent that he is not a normal person.

The central island is far smaller than the one they were on before. It seems to consist of nothing more than a lush green park surrounded by a path circling the island. That, and other closed bridges to what appears to be other islands. Ignoring the other random scenery, Izuru makes a beeline towards the park, where a classmate is most likely to be. He is, of course, correct. Standing next to a large statue stands a plump blonde man with his arms crossed and a sour look on his face. Izuru remembers him as the rude, haughty one of the group when they were in the classroom- or at least one of them. But as much as this man seems normal- as normal as an ultimate can get- there’s still some detail Izuru can’t put his finger on.

Komaeda practically skips up to the blonde, a behavior Izuru takes keen notice of for no reason other than to get a hint as to what is happening in the white haired boy’s head. He’d assumed Komaeda’s awestruck reaction to meeting him wouldn’t be the same with the other guests on the “school trip,” but that assumption seems incorrect at the moment. Komaeda clearly feels an admiration towards at least both Izuru and whoever this is. He’ll have to consider what that means.

“...What do you want?” Asks the blonde man, displeasure written clearly on his face.

Komaeda smiles. “Ah, Togami-kun… Have time for a small introduction?” Hm. Less excited than he had been when speaking to Izuru, but still paying clear attention. His body language suggests admiration and submission, what with his head tilted slightly down and shoulders lowered.

Against all odds, the blonde (whose name is apparently Togami) looks even more disgusted than he had been before. “...Introduction?”

Upon realizing that’s all Togami is going to say, Komaeda turns to Izuru. “Ah, Kamukura-kun. Why don’t you introduce yourself too?” His eyes shift nervously between the two men in front of him.

“Very well. My name is Kamukura Izuru.”

“And your talent?” Togami asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh yeah!” Komaeda perks up. “I forgot to ask that! What is your talent? It seems like everyone on this trip is an ultimate,” A deadpan stare seems to remind him of a certain fact. “Oops, I forgot. You don’t know, do you?” He turns to look at Togami. “Kamukura-kun has amnesia. He doesn’t remember anything- and I mean anything . We had to check his E-Handbook to find out what his name is. Say, Kamukura-kun, let’s check that again. It should say what your talent is.”

Izuru nods silently and pulls the device out of his pocket. Upon turning it on and navigating to his profile, the trio is met with…

“Huh.” Togami squints at the screen.

“Ultimate.. redacted?” Komaeda’s disappointment shows clearly on his face for a split second, only to be quickly replaced by curiosity.

Izuru says nothing.

Special Notes: Ultimate [REDACTED]

“Someone- Someone had to type that in. It’s not even just blacked out, they physically wrote ‘redacted.’ Why ?” Komaeda scratches his head, clearly trying to unravel the mystery in his head.

“You know what? I’m not even going to question this. It’s not worth my time.” Togami crosses his arms once again. “My name is Togami Byakuya,” A lengthy pause hangs heavy in the air. “...I’m done. That’s it, right? Back off.” The feeling in Izuru’s gut tugs at him again, as if trying to send a message to his brain.

Komaeda cuts in before more awkward tension can settle between them. “Well, I suppose that’s Togami-kun for you. He’s special, even by Ultimate standards. As the heir to his family’s massive financial conglomerate, Togami-kun is already incredibly successful at his young age, possibly due to his ruthlessness. That’s what earned him the title of Ultimate Affluent Progeny.”

Ultimate Affluent Progeny, Togami Byakuya… The title seems right in Izuru’s mind, but there’s something wrong. Something isn’t matching up- a few things really. Togami Byakuya is known to be harsh and pretentious. This holds up with the introduction he just heard. But Togami is also known to brag. He should have jumped at the chance to show off his status and ultimate title, yet he brushed the responsibility off for Komaeda to take care of. He also prides himself on his athleticism- and as much as Izuru knows weight is not an indicator of health, the man in front of him does not seem like the type of person the Togami family would consider athletic.

Hypothesis: This is not the real Togami Byakuya.

He has no time to conduct any sort of testing on the matter as Komaeda drags him off to their next destination. It’s a shame, but hopefully he’ll have more time later since the matter certainly requires more observation.

Their next stop is a ranch, seemingly devoid of any animals except a parrot and a cow- the latter of which is being stared at by two girls. The taller girl, a toned young woman in a casual white shirt and plaid skirt, looks on in horror, jaw dropped. The other girl crouched on the ground beside an ant hill looks more confused and disgusted than anything. The former turns to look at Izuru and Komaeda the moment they walk through the gates to the ranch.

“DID YOU TWO SEE THAT?”

The shorter girl sighs exasperatedly. “Of course they didn’t. They just got here, dummy.”

“Well, maybe they were just hiding somewhere!” Her words are met with the short girl sticking her tongue out meanspirtedly. Ignoring her companion’s rude gesture, the girl in the plaid skirt jogs up to them. “You’re never gonna believe what just happened. That rabbit lady, Ukiyo-”

“Usami.” Nagito interrupts. As soon as the words leave his mouth, the boy seems to tense up. “Ah, I’m so sorry for cutting you off, Owari-san, I shouldn’t have-”

“Right, right, that’s her name. Usagi.” She got it wrong again… “Well, she just turned a chicken into a cow! Seriously!” Ah, so she’s a liar. “I can see you two don’t believe me, but- but- but Saionji saw it, too!” The girl who is apparently Saionji immediately whips her head to look at the shorter girl.

Saionji’s expression turns from confused to mischievous as a smirk spreads across her face. “Huh? I never saw anything like that. You’re crazy.”

Her companion immediately splutters, seemingly at a loss for words.

Despite how insane it sounds, Izuru can tell Owari is telling the truth- or at least, she thinks she is. It appears Saionji is just gaslighting her- useful information to note.

Komaeda nervously taps Owari’s shoulder. “Owari-san? This is Kamukura Izuru. He fainted at the beach so I’m taking him around to get everyone introduced.”

“Right, right! I remember that guy! And who are you?”

Komaeda’s face immediately drops into shock and hurt. “Huh? Haven’t we already met?”

Owari-san’s grin stays the same despite her rude words. “Oh, haha, sorry! I suck at remembering names and I’ve met a ton of new people today!”

The white-haired boy raises his hands as if to say ‘it’s no problem’. In Izuru’s opinion, it definitely is. “I’m Komaeda Nagito. It makes sense you’d forget little old me, but please try not to do it again!”

“Alright! Kagura and Komagata, got it!”

“Er, that’s not-”

“The name’s Owari Akane! I’m the Ultimate Gymnast! Nice to meetcha!”

Izuru nods without saying anything else. Naturally, the conversation doesn’t escalate any further. It wasn’t going anywhere anyway.

“Oh, well, I guess we’re going to go talk to Saionji-san now. Thanks Owari-san!” Komaeda’s gentle smile lights back up again as he leads Izuru away from the gymnast. Once again, Komaeda sweeps him away, this time over to where Saionji crouches in the dirt. The innocent-looking girl appears to be crushing ants with her fingers.

“Squish, squish!” She cheers, smiling happily. Her pigtails bounced every time she pressed a finger into the earth.

“Hello, Saionji-san!” Komaeda says with a shaky voice.

“Oh, it’s you! The walking corpse! What do you want?” Saionji sneers at Komaeda. At her words, Izuru feels a sharp spike of emotion shoot through his heart. So far he hadn’t felt much, but for some reason this set something off in him. He needs to investigate further.

Before Komaeda can say anything, Izuru speaks up. “Hello. My name is Kamukura Izuru. And you are?”

“Huhhh? You’re telling me you don’t know? That’s so rude! I’m Saionji Hiyoko, the Ultimate Traditional Dancer.” The girl frowns, clearly annoyed. “What’s your talent, jerkface?”

“I don’t know. I’m suffering from a case of amnesia and the handbook won’t tell me what my ultimate is.”

“Hmmm… sounds a little suspicious to me!” Saionji turns her head, whipping her hair over her shoulder in the process. “Are we done now? I want to get back to Mr. Ant!”

Komaeda frowns. “Who-?”

“ God, ” Saionji groans. “Kamukura-oniisan, take your weirdo friend and go!”

Hm. A different emotion. Still, it remains unclear to Izuru what exactly it is.

“Ah, if you insist, Saionji-san.” Despite her cruel words, Komaeda went along with her requests. He didn’t seem to want to defend himself. It’s curious; most people would be outwardly offended at the girl’s rudeness, yet Komaeda just nods and continues on. As if he’d heard Izuru’s . thoughts about him, Komaeda leans down a bit to whisper in his ear. “We should probably get out of here before she gets more annoyed.”

His breath is warm. So is his hand as it tugged him out of the ranch, past a resort hotel, and towards a supermarket. “I thought we’d skip the hotel for now and come back when we’re ready to rest. Does that sound good to you?” Komaeda asks, soon to be met with a quick nod.

The moment the doors of Rocketpunch Market open, Izuru and Komaeda are met with a blast of cold air. He hadn’t noticed how hot it’d been outside until that moment- strange, since Izuru is wearing a turtleneck on the beach for some unknowable reason (it did seem to be pretty thin, though). The market is filled with seemingly random items ranging from surfboards to night vision goggles to an entire organic produce section. “It has all the supplies we could ever need for a long while…” Komaeda mutters, hitting the nail on the head. It was incredibly well-stocked- but why? There’s no one here but them. “Hey, Kamukura-kun, it’s one of our classmates!”

Izuru looks to the spot his companion pointed out. Sure enough, a girl stands by the survival section, clearly trying to make it seem like she wasn’t staring at them despite repeatedly glancing in their direction. Her messy, chopped up hair falls like a curtain over her shoulders and back, long enough for her to hide behind but not quite as long as Izuru’s.

One of her fleeting glances lands right on his eyes and she freezes for a moment before squeaking and starting to tear up.

“Bullying girls?” Komaeda shakes his head. “Not cool, Kamukura-kun.”

“I-I’m so ssssorry-y-y!” The girl cried as they approached. “I w-was looking at you wrong!”

Annoying. But one of the more interesting people Izuru had seen so far. “I do not care.” He says as a half hearted attempt at consolation. Unpredictable once again, it backfires in his face.

The girl tugs at her hair as her sobs grow in volume and intensity. “Sorry, s-sorry!”

Komaeda, even paler than usual, cuts in. “Ah, Tsumiki-san, how about you introduce yourself to Kamukura-kun!”

She immediately perks up as her face falls even further. “Oh my gosh! I forgot to introduce myself! I’m so sorry for being so rude!” Unsurprisingly, tears begin to well up in her eyes. “M-my name is Tsumiki Mikan. From the bottom of my heart, I-I hope we can get along…” She pauses for a moment before seemingly remembering something. “Oh, and I’m the Ultimate Nurse! ...and you? I’m sorry, y-you don’t have to introduce yourself!”

“How would you know who I am otherwise?”

“I’M SO SORRY F-FOR QUESTIONING YOOOUUU!”

Her ‘unpredictability’ is beginning to become a pattern.

At Komaeda’s pleading stare, Izuru decides to end the tears- and hopefully the interaction. “My name is Kamukura Izuru. I do not remember my talent. I do not recall anything before entering that classroom today.”

Her tears stop all of a sudden and she whips her head up to look at him. “Wait, w-what? Complete memory loss? That’s near unheard of! Does anything hurt? How does your head feel? Do you have a family history of neurological problems? Wait, how would you even know that? Ah- nevermind on that last part. Do you-?”

“Tsumiki-san,” Komaeda interrupts gently. “I’m sure Kamukura-kun really appreciates your trying to help! We can talk about it later, okay? There are still people Kamukura-kun hasn’t met yet!”

“O-okay… bye, then…” Sorrow returns to her expression as her body language changes completely to shield her from the world.

And back to being unpredictable again. Tsumiki is like a completely different person when in her element. She seems completely confident… Izuru wonders, not of his own accord, how to treat her seemingly endless anxiety and make that self-assured personality come out more often.

His thoughts are interrupted by a squeal of glee from one of the aisles in the supermarket. Walking over to it, Izuru and Komaeda are met with the sight of a girl picking up different packaged meals and marvelling at them as if she’d never seen anything like it before.

“So much stuff!” She cheers. “Ramen, burgers, gumbo! People from all over the place would eat here!”

“Hello, Mioda-san,” Komaeda smiles. “I’ve got someone here you should meet.”

She immediately dropped what she was holding and hurried up to them, putting her face up close to Izuru’s. “Oh haiiiii! How rude of me, I didn’t even notice you! Oh my, you’re super low energy!” He thinks maybe her idea of ‘low energy’ is more than a little warped. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I am fine. My name is Kamukura Izuru.”

“Are you suuuure you’re okay? Your voice is all dead,” She lowered her voice into a comical mockery of his own. “Like thiiiiiiis.”

“Again, I am fine. I believe this is normal for me.” His voice and face remained the same despite her impression of him. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t remember anything past going through the door from earlier.”

Her eyes grew wide and excited. “Woahhhh, Ibuki’s never met an amnesiac before! Are you gonna forget about me?” Izuru thinks it would be hard to do so. “Oh wait, I never introduced myself! Can’t forget someone who you don’t know! Weeeellll, I’m… Mio! Da! I! Bukiiii! Mioda Ibuki!” Mioda paused and struck a pose that made it look like she was enthusiastically strumming a nonexistant guitar. “The Ultimate Musician! Isn’t that awesome?”

“...Indeed.”

“Hey! We should have a jam sesh sometime! Ya never know, maybe your talent is about music!”

“It’s possible.”

Izuru could practically see the lightbulb flicker to life above Komaeda’s head. “Oh, yes! That’s a fantastic idea! We should try to figure out your talent through trial and error! Ah, we can start tomorrow. After we meet everyone, it might be time to rest already.” He says, pointing out the window at the slight gold tint washing over the island. He’s right; the sun would set in a couple hours.

“Ooo, can Ibuki come?” Mioda exclaims, bouncing on her heels.

Komaeda’s smile falters almost imperceptibly. “Ah, well, um- We’ll see! For now, Kamukura-kun and I need to go talk to the others.”

Her head tilts like a curious dog. “Hm? Nagito-chan had a weird response. Oh well! Ibuki will stay here with Mikan-chan!” She skitters over to whisper in Izuru’s ear. “She’s suuuuper cute, dontcha think?”

“Not particularly.”

“No accounting for taste, I guess!” Mioda grins and scampers over to where Tsumiki stands, inspecting first aid kits.

Nagito laughss warmly. “Kind of an odd pair.” He chuckles kindheartedly at the way Tsumiki yelps in surprise when Mioda lightheartedly sneaks up on her.

“Mm, I suppose so.” Izuru says. He can’t help his gaze sliding over to the other boy. Komaeda seems wistful, even as he turns on his heel to walk away.

Their next stop is the airport, where Komaeda approaches a boy leaning over a control panel on the baggage claim, pulling out wires with careful precision. Izuru recognizes him as the boy from the classroom with the overexaggerated appearance obviously meant to make people notice him. Shoddily dyed hair, bright color contacts, sharpened teeth: it all pointed to some extreme insecurity. Like the opposite of camouflage.

“Souda-kun,” The pink-haired boy perks up at Komaeda’s words, turning to see who had said his name. “What are you doing?”

“Oh! Hey, man. Uh, I’m just looking at the stuff in this baby to see if I can rig up something for the planes, since-”

“There are no engines.” Izuru interrupts.

The boy seems confused. “Uh, yeah… how’d you know that?”

“There’s no sound from the planes. Usually, even when an engine is turned off, there’s a slight, almost inaudible hum.”

He drops the wrench he’d been holding. “Dude, what?! I’m the Ultimate Mechanic and I can’t even hear that stuff! How the hell can you?!”

Komaeda seems intrigued as well. “Yeah, I’d like to know that, too.”

Izuru shrugs. “I don’t know. I have good hearing, I suppose.”

“Nobody’s hearing could possibly be that good!” The boy shrieks, only to be met with a sharp glare from the other person in the room- a gothic-looking young man. “Uh, sorry. Hehe,” The mechanic says sheepishly. “Anyway, dude, that’s crazy impressive. Has your hearing always been that good?”

Komaeda answers for him this time. “We don’t know. Kamukura-kun can’t remember anything before opening the door to the classroom this morning.”

“Huh, that’s weird… Well, hopefully your memory will come back soon! Hey, do you think that thing in the movies is true? Where you hit someone on the head and it cures their amnesia?”

Izuru is quick to correct him out of fear for his safety. “ No. ”

The mechanic puts his hand on his chin, faking deep thought. “Mmm, good to know. Hey, Kamukura, was it? We’ve never been introduced. I’m Souda Kazuichi, the ultimate mechanic! Nice to meetcha!”

“My name is Kamukura Izuru.”

“...That’s it?”

“What more would I say?”

“I don’t know, man! Something!” Souda huffs.

“ Ahem,” Izuru, Komaeda, and Souda all turn at the voice coming from behind them. “All of you, silence! Mirage Golden Hawk Jum-P is slumbering. It is in your best interest not to wake him.” Says the goth boy who had been standing on the other side of the room until now.

Souda’s confusion shows clearly on his face. “Who? Is- is that you? Cuz I thought you were Tanaka.”

“ Do not speak my name so casually. However, you are correct. I am the one by the name of Tanaka Gundham. Mirage Golden Hawk Jum-P is one of the ultra-powerful Four Dark Devas of Destruction .”

“The what?! ” Souda cries.

“BEHOLD!” Tanaka exclaims as four hamsters leap out from his scarf. Sure enough, one of them, a small white and brown hamster, is deep asleep.

“...Huh,” Komaeda says under his breath. “Pretty cute.”

“ Indeed! Komaeda is correct! The Devas are both powerful, and adorable! It is one of their many talents. They- what are you doing?” Tanaka asks, off put by the way Izuru is leaning towards the hamsters.

“That big one. It’s a Syrian hamster, correct?” Izuru says, citing the information that floated to the front of his brain as soon as the hamsters jumped out.

Tanaka’s eyes light up. “Yes! Invading Black Dragon Cham-P is a Syrian hamster, otherwise known as a golden hamster! You are truly wise!”

“They’re the largest known species of hamster…” Izuru continues, not at all fazed by Tanaka’s enthusiasm. The other boy is clearly not used to people indulging his hobby. It is not bothersome for Izuru to correct that for a moment.

“Correct! You, dark one, what is your name?”

“Kamukura Izuru. Don’t ask me anything else, I don’t remember anything.”

This only seems to excite Tanaka more. “Fascinating… Utterly fascinating.”

“Oooookay,” Komaeda interrupts. “Kamukura-kun, it’s time to say goodbye to Tanaka-kun for now!” Izuru thinks he’d make a good elementary school teacher. He should consider it as a future career, especially considering he has no talent other than luck.

As they walk away, Komaeda shoots him a question. “You know an awful lot about hamsters. Maybe you’re the Ultimate Breeder, like Tanaka-kun?”

“I doubt it. The chance of there being two Ultimate Breeders in the same class is very low. Besides, I have similar information about everyone else’s talents. Tanaka’s talent is not special.”

Komaeda stops in his tracks for a moment, stunned, before scrambling to catch up to Izuru’s brisk pace. “Wait, seriously? Mechanic, nurse, musician- all of them? That’s… incredible. You’re… so hopeful.”

This time, it’s Izuru who stops walking.

“Komaeda, is something wrong? You were trembling.”

“... Don’t worry about it.” After a quick pause, Komaeda simply smiles again before speed-walking through the gates of the hotel.

It feels like he smiles at everything.

The first thing Izuru notices as he steps through the gates are the small buildings on either side of the walkway above the water. In front of each building is a mailbox, each with a pixelated design of a face, just like there had been in the report card section of his E-Handbook- yet another sign that this event had been planned extensively before they arrived. Considering the buildings had the students’ faces plastered in front of them, Izuru finds it safe to assume these would be their sleeping quarters. The implication is worrying; their stay here would be long enough that they’d need to sleep overnight, and have individual living spaces.

“Kamukura-kun!” Komaeda beckons from near the large pool by the hotel rooms. “This seems like a pretty nice hotel! Hotel Mirai, huh? When we were told to live on this island, I was scared we’d have to pitch a tent or something… Luckily, it doesn’t seem like we have anything to worry about!”

“I don’t know about that. We’ve essentially been kidnapped.”

“Maybe so, but it’s not like we’re in danger! In fact, this seems like a fantastic vacation!” Komaeda is incredibly nonchalant for the situation they’re in- either he’s deep in denial or he has some sort of experience with trauma of this sort. Izuru adds this to the ever-growing pile of other things to research about the boy.

Seeing no other way to reason with Komaeda, Izuru relents. “I guess so.”

The other boy seems satisfied for a moment before being startled by an approaching voice.

“Hey! You there! You’re the one who passed out on the beach, right?” A girl with a checkered red tie exclaims as she comes to a stop next to the unexpecting pair. “You gotta keep it together, you know? At times like these, it’s the boys’ job to keep the girls safe.”

“...Why?” Izuru says, unimpressed.

“I-I’m sorry?” The girl stutters.

“Why would it be? The girls can take care of themselves. Besides, I’m not the only boy here.” He points at a muscular man across the pool, who responds with a hearty wave. “Look at him. He seems satisfactory.”

She frowns. “That’s not the point! You’re being unreliable. From now on, I’m going to call you Unreliable… What was your name again?”

“Kamukura Izuru. Unknown talent. Don’t ask, I’m tired of answering.”

“Weird answer but okay. Anyway, you’re Unreliable Kamukura now, got it?”

“I’m very reliable.” Izuru says, an enthusiastic nod from Komaeda backing up his statement.

“I’ll believe it when I see it!” The girl huffs. “Now, you said you have an ‘unknown talent’, right? What did you mean by that?”

“I just said not to ask about it. You’re very rude.”

Komaeda hesitantly agrees. “You haven’t even introduced yourself to him.”

“Fine! Let’s see… My name is Koizumi Mahiru. I’ll be counting on you from now on.” Koizumi says with a clearly forced smile.

“You shouldn’t.” Izuru says. As the girl turns on her heel and walks away exasperatedly, he turns to Komaeda with a confused look. “What did I do wrong?”

“I think you just frustrated her. You didn’t say what she wanted you to.” Izuru becomes even more clearly confused. “Don’t worry about that. Say what you feel like! Ultimates should always speak their mind. Speaking of ultimates, Koizumi-san is known as the Ultimate Photographer! She has a promising career as a photojournalist.”

It seemed obvious from the camera around her neck, but Izuru appreciates the confirmation nonetheless. 

The muscled man he’d pointed towards earlier approaches next. “Hey, you two! I’ve met you already, Komaeda, but who’s this? You haven’t told me your name.” His voice is deep and gruff. “I’ll go first. I am the Ultimate Team Manager, NIDAI NEKOMARU! NOW YOU!”

“My name is Kamukura Izuru. I don’t remember my talent. Please don’t ask anything else about me, the answer will always be that I don’t know.”

Nidai nods in understanding. “Got it. But that introduction was weak! Your voice is too soft! Let your voice rise from the bottom of your stomach!”

Nidai certainly is boisterous, Izuru has to admit. But that only means that the team manager won’t leave him alone if he doesn’t give his ‘full strength’. It seems like that’s the only way out of this. “MY NAME IS KAMUKURA IZURU!” He yells as loud as he can. Komaeda winces from the noise as Nidai grins in satisfaction and joy.

Further down, near the pool chairs, a short boy jumps in surprise at Izuru’s volume. “Oi, you three! Shut the hell up!”

Komaeda shoots him an apologetic glance before turning back to Nidai and Izuru. “Wow, that was quite impressive, Kamukura-kun!”

“Yes! You have a lot of spirit! So much potential!” Nidai says, clapping a strong hand on Izuru’s shoulder. “You’ve got to train with me some time, I insist! Us and Owari! I already promised her I’d train her so you’ll have to come along with the ride.”

“No thanks.” Izuru shrugs before walking off towards the short boy who’d yelled at them a moment before. Behind him, Komaeda fervently apologizes to Nidai before following his companion.

The short blonde boy with the baby face scowls at the pool as if it were the source of all his problems, although the only thing visible in the water was his own face. As Izuru approaches, he glances up with a deep glare. “Who the hell are you?”

Komaeda winces. “Relax, Kuzuryuu-kun. We’re only here to introduce ourselves. You two haven’t been properly introduced yet, right?”

Kuzuryuu huffs, crossing his arms. “Hmph. Name’s Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko… Just so we’re clear, I don’t plan to act all friendly and shit with you guys.” 

Raised, defensive posture. Lightly twitching eyebrows. Squinted golden eyes glancing to and fro. Averting his gaze from any living thing. He’s clearly nervous. Paranoid, even.

“Well?” Kuzuryuu asks. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”

Izuru only continues his blank, observant stare.

“Ah, Kamukura-kun!” Komaeda stresses, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. “You may want to do as he asks! Kuzuryuu-kun is the Ultimate Yakuza and the heir to Kuzuryuu Clan.” Izuru recognizes the name: the largest crime syndicate in Japan. Its member base spans at least 30,000 people. They have a reputation for being especially ruthless, particularly the main family, which Kuzuryuu seems to be part of. Izuru doesn’t really care. He’s bored of introducing himself the same way over and over again. But then again, Komaeda will just stress more if he continues to do nothing but stare.

“Kamukura Izuru. Talent is unknown,” He turns back to Komaeda. “Can we move on now?”

“Hey, asshole! Don’t act like I’m not here! The fuck do you mean unknown?”

Izuru grabs Komaeda’s shoulder and starts to push him away despite the white-haired boy’s stammered protests. “B-but! Usami told us we should all get along! And Kuzuryuu-kun has so much power-”

“He doesn’t have any power here. Plus, we most likely have plenty of time to get to know him. Just ignore it.” Izuru pushes him further towards the stairs walking up to some sort of restaurant, ignoring the indignant yelling coming from Kuzuryuu.

“Kamukura-kun?”

“Yes?”

“You seem awfully in a hurry. Is something wrong?”

“I’m bored.”

Komaeda nods. “Ah… I see.” Izuru elects to ignore the fact that he definitely does not ‘see’.

Peeking into the room up the stairs, the pair could see what looks like a restaurant or cafeteria of sorts. Tables are arranged in an open space with plenty of natural light- excellent design, Izuru notes. This is a well-built hotel. Komaeda had been right when he said it wouldn’t be difficult to live here. That is, except for the confrontation happening in front of them.

Three people stand around one of the tables. The first: a boy even shorter than Kuzuryuu with a large pompadour and a chef outfit. Second: A well-dressed young woman in expensive clothing- Izuru recognizes her as the European girl from the classroom earlier. And finally, the fighter he’d seen earlier, with her sharp red eyes trained on the short boy and her hand inching toward the bamboo sword on her back.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Komaeda rushes forward to stand between the three. “Calm down, everyone! And Pekoyama-san, please, Usami said violence was against the rules! What in the world is going on here?”

The swordswoman continues her glare as if Komaeda had never interrupted in the first place. “Hanamura is trying to trick Sonia. That pervert.” She says in a stern tone of voice.

The European girl who Izuru assumes is Sonia seems extremely confused at the situation unfolding around her. “Hm? Tricking me…?”

The chef wrings his hands nervously, shoulders raised in fear. “Ah, this is- this is a simple misunderstanding!”

“It most certainly is not,” The silver-haired girl says to Komaeda. “Hanamura was telling her there was poison in his,” Her face crumples in disgust. “ ...loins and that she had to suck it out. And then when I interrupted, he-” She stops all of a sudden, cheeks glowing a bright red. “Nevermind.”

Komaeda turns sternly towards the chef. “Is this true, Hanamura-san?”

“Ah, hehe…” ‘Hanamura’ chuckles nervously. “I’m in danger…” He whispers to himself.

“Please leave.” Izuru takes it upon himself to speak up for the first time in the conversation, causing the other four to turn towards him. Sonia, Hanamura, and Pekoyama stare at him in surprise. It seems he’d been very quiet when he first came in.

Hanamura’s eyes widen. “Ooohh, who’s this specimen? I don’t mind you taking me away from here.” His eyebrows raise and lower in a suggestive manner.

Ew , Izuru thinks to himself.

“ Hanamura. Leave Kamukura-kun alone,” Komaeda says, still with a smile on his face- albeit an extremely forced one. His fists are balled and shaking slightly. “Sonia-san and Pekoyama-san, too.”

Hanamura scuttles down the stairs in shame, although he’s clearly excited at Komaeda’s tone of voice.

“Thank you very much, Komaeda-san!” Sonia smiled politely. “And you, as well…?” She says, looking pointedly at Izuru. Pekoyama shares a curious glance towards him.

Izuru almost sighs in relief when Komaeda answers for him. “Oh, this is Kamukura-kun! He has amnesia, so he doesn’t remember his talent or anything else. Kamukura-kun, meet Sonia Nevermind and Pekoyama Peko, the Ultimate Princess and Ultimate Swordswoman respectively.”

Sonia approaches him first, holding out her hand for a greeting. “It’s very nice to meet you, Kamukura-san! As Komaeda-san said, my name is Sonia Nevermind. I’m from Novoselic.” Ah, so he’d been correct when he first heard her speak in the classroom.

“I know.” He says with an utterly blank tone.

Sonia’s face falls into confusion and shock.

“Don’t worry, Sonia-san! Kamukura-kun is just very… observant. He probably just noticed it earlier! Somehow…” Komaeda quickly scrambles to excuse his friend. Sonia’s befuddled expression remains even as she nods and steps back, hand still outstretched.

“Komaeda,” Pekoyama says from next to the stairwell where she’d silently wandered over to. “Would you please come with me to find Hanamura? You too, Sonia. And Kamukura too, I suppose.”

Komaeda grins and starts to nod before hesitating and turning his head to look for Izuru’s approval. “Can I…?”

“Of course. I don’t care.”

“Great! There’s only one person left to introduce yourself to, I’m pretty sure she’s just downstairs,” Komaeda says as Pekoyama and Sonia file down the stairs to the pool. He begins to follow them down, but pauses for a moment. “...I’ll see you afterwards, right?”

Izuru nods.

“Awesome.” Komaeda beams, clearly pleased. “See you then.”

“Bye.”

After the trio leaves, Izuru makes his way towards the other set of stairs leading towards what’s probably the lobby. On his way down, the sound of beeps and clicks surfaces and grows louder. It sounds like a video game. Against his will, his mind supplies the knowledge that the distinctive soundtrack and sound effects are from a game called Gala Omega, released in 1981. The game is considered a classic by many, originally meant to be played on an arcade machine. But the sound of the machinery this version is being played on can’t be from an arcade. The clicks of the buttons are all wrong. It more likely matches… the GameGirl Advance, a console released in 2003. That’s right. Someone downstairs is playing Gala Omega ported onto a GameGirl Advance.

All this information comes to him between the 15th and 14th step of the stairs. His conclusion is drawn just as his foot lands. It only takes a second.

He stops on the 13th step, looking over to find the source of the noise; sure enough, a handheld GameGirl Advance console in the hands of someone slumped into an armchair in the lobby. Her eyes are glued to the console’s screen, flickering back and forth with every press of a button.

It’s her. The girl from the classroom. The one with the rehearsed gist of a script, the one with the knowing glint in her eye, the one who’d been so shocked to see Izuru’s face.

The one who’s looking up at him right now.

For a moment, her eyes feel like they’re piercing straight through him. But a second later, as if it never happened, her gaze softens into sleepy calm. She slowly stands up from her chair and walks over to him, one foot after the other, wobbling like she’d just woken up from a deep slumber. Her eyes are trained on her feet the entire time until she almost bumps into his chest, where she pauses and looks carefully up. Like Sonia, she holds out her hand.

Unlike he had with Sonia, Izuru shakes it.

“I’m Nanami Chiaki, the Ultimate Gamer. Who are you?” She asks expectantly.

It’s a good question.

“My name is Kamukura Izuru,” Nanami’s eyes dim slightly at his answer, as if a spark within them was being snuffed out. “I don’t remember my talent or anything else before walking into the classroom with all of you.”

Her mouth twists into a frown, cheeks puffed out in displeasure. “...That sounds rough. Sorry about that.” To be quite honest, Izuru doesn’t know how to react to that.

They’re still shaking hands.

This is a strange interaction. He doesn’t like it. Nanami is just so- unsettling . And Izuru is sure she knows more than she’s letting on.

As soon as she opens her mouth to break the silence, a chime rings through the lobby. The monitor in the corner of the lobby flickers to life, showing a low quality image of Usami sitting in a comfortable-looking armchair. “Congratulations everyone!” She says, clapping her fluffy paws. “It appears that everyone has finished their introductions! I’m so happy! I’ve prepared a reward for you all, so please gather at the beach to receive it! Bye bye, now!”

Nanami turned towards him, rubbing her eyes with a soft yawn. “Ahh… we should do what she says, I think. Want to walk with me?”

A chill of discomfort shivers down Izuru’s spine. “No thank you,” He says as he quickly walks away, out of the lobby and into the sun. He can feel her gaze boring into his back, even with the doors to the hotel between them. He lets his feet carry him towards the beach as his mind stirs. What does she know? Why does she act like that? Why-?

“Kamukura-kun?” Komaeda stands a few feet in front of him on the path to the beach. A look of concern is etched onto his face as he approaches Izuru. “Is something wrong?”

He searches in his mind for the answer to the question, but for once in his memory, he can’t find anything. So he defaults. “Let’s go to the beach.”

“Wh-?”

“ Now .”

He grasps Komaeda’s hand firmly in his own, tugging him towards the sand where a few classmates are already waiting for them. Soon enough, the rest joined them as well. Kuzuryuu was there as well, shooting a ferocious glare at Izuru. Upon seeing his fearsome stare, Komaeda grips Izuru’s hand tighter.

As soon as everyone arrives, Usami pops up out of nowhere. “Hello, students! Have you all been getting along?” A silent, awkward pause follows her question. “...Great!”

“You.” Togami-kun says sternly. “Why are we here? And how do we leave?”

“My, my! I’ve already told you, Togami-kun, this is our fun school trip,” She does a happy little twirl. “And as for how you leave… Well, you’ll all get to leave this island once you’ve become good friends with each other! When all of you are friends, then you can go home! But why would you want to leave this island so soon? This is paradise!” Usami waves her staff in a heart shape, leaving pink sparkles floating in its wake.

“Y-you’re telling me that to get out of here… we have to get along ?” Kuzuryuu exclaims, his brows deeply furrowed. “That’s bullshit! Get me off this island! I’m not singing kumbaya with these bastards!”

Usami winces. “Kuzuryuu-kun, please calm down… This will be fun!” With a sudden raise in confidence, she pounds a paw against her chest. “And I have just the way to prove it! I’ve prepared swimsuits for everyone. They’re waiting for you back at the pool. How about a dip in the ocean?”

Mioda immediately lights up, bouncing on her heels. “YAHOO!! Ohhh, this is gonna be so awesome! Come on, guys, let’s go change!!” She runs away at lightning speed back to the hotel, followed a bit more slowly by the majority of the class.

Komaeda lays a hand on Izuru’s shoulder. “Kamukura-kun, let’s go swimming! It’ll be a great way to get a headstart on bonding with everyone.”

“I’m good,” Komaeda’s face falls at Izuru’s words. “But you can swim. I won’t stop you.”

“Ahaha… alright then. I’ll be right back.” He frowned ever so slightly as he turned to start his trek back to the hotel with everyone else.

Hm, Izuru muses to himself. I must have disappointed him. How, though? And how would I not have? I said what I wanted, just like he told me to.

The only people to stay behind with Izuru were Owari, Saionji, Togami, Kuzuryuu, and… Nanami. He tried to avert his gaze from hers. The others discussed their reasons for not swimming, but Izuru paid no attention, just waited patiently for something to happen. He could guess their reasons anyway. Nanami would fall asleep in the water and drown. Kuzuryuu is reluctant to spend time with anyone at all. Saionji is nervously fiddling with her fingers, hands raised nervously near the front of her kimono- although she masks it with the joy of stepping on crabs, Izuru can tell she’s nervous about something, probably to do with her kimono. Owari has just eaten judging by the scent of her breath and likely believes in myths like not going in the water within an hour of a meal, and Togami finds himself to be too dignified to do anything with commoners. They’re too easy to read.

Those of the class who decided to swim soon come running back and splashing into the water, immediately launching into play. Izuru watches their banter halfheartedly, mostly just toying with the hem of his turtleneck. Observing his classmates got boring quickly. They’re all so easy to predict. Protect animals, flirt, stutter, take pictures, repeat. It’s all so painfully dull.

There’s just one person missing from the scene in the ocean. Komaeda taps Izuru’s shoulder once again with a hesitant smile on his face.

“Are you sure you don’t want to swim, Kamukura-kun?”

“Yes. I haven’t changed into my swimsuit anyway.” He can practically feel Nanami listening in on their conversation from where she stands near Usami.

“Well… What if you just stand in the shallows? It sounds boring to just stand here.”

He’s right , Izuru decides. I’m bored. I might as well.

Tentatively, Izuru follows his friend’s lead towards the water, stopping just before Komaeda steps into the waves. The sun shines on his hair, illuminating it like a halo. The white-haired boy grins back at Izuru as he wades further into the sea. He looks nice, Izuru thinks. Everything is calm for a moment before a sudden cold feeling nips at his bare feet.

Izuru quickly looks down at his rolled up pant legs. There, tiny waves gently lap at his ankles. Their rhythm and shape is unpredictable. The water moves as it pleases, free from constraint, free from control. Deep inside, Izuru feels a subtle ache in his chest.

But quickly, he starts to understand the pattern of exactly where and when the waves will meet his feet. He predicts the temperature, the tempo. And suddenly, the waves are under control again. Everything in his vision turns dull and gray. At first, he just assumes it’s due to his boredom, but as the ocean grows around him and he slowly looks up, he sees the concerned faces of his classmates staring up at the sky.

Storm clouds have rolled in over the island, thunder lightly booming with no lightning to accompany it. The waves writhe and squirm among them as Izuru vaguely hears Togami yell for everyone to get back on shore. He barely registers Komaeda’s soft hands guiding him away from the water and towards the palm trees. 

“Kamukura-kun… okay… happening?” Everything is becoming a blurry swirl in his mind. A raspy voice, a sea roaring in anger, a twisting landscape, a growing feeling of dread.

A chime. Fear blooming on his teacher’s face. Sleepy pink eyes snapping wide open. A pale hand tightening on his shoulder.

Ding dong, bing bong!

“ Puhuhuhu…”

“See, I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Please Togami-kun, I didn’t know this would happen! It shouldn’t even be happening! This doesn’t make any sense…”

“Calm down, both of you. This is definitely worrying but we don’t have time to look into it. If this is incorrect, there’s probably other things going on in the simulation. We need to find them before they spread.”

*beep*

“Well, Kirigiri, it seems we’re a bit late for that.”

Chapter Text

As soon as the screen in front of him lights up, Izuru can feel the dizziness fading. In its place, a headache threatens to split his head open.

The monitor strapped to the coconut tree flickers and glitches so that the image on the screen is barely recognizable, if at all. All Izuru can make out is what looks like a ton of circles formed into a fluffy shadow. Even without knowing what it is he’s looking at, Izuru feels a pang of… something . Something negative-esque.

“Ahh, ahh! Mic check, mic check! Can you hear me?” The voice emanating from the speaker is high-pitched and grating. Its cheerful tone is juxtaposed by the way his classmates cup their hands over the ears, wincing in unexpected pain. Usami’s voice is similar, but more lighthearted. She giggles in a caring, motherly way. But this… Izuru can practically feel the malice radiating out of the mysterious shadow. 

“Th-this can’t be!” Usami stutters. “This voice… Oh, this- this is very, very bad. Students, I’ll be right back! It’s all up to me…” Just like that, she zooms off into the distance.

“Oh boy, she’s surprised!” The voice from the monitor speaks again. “ Puhuhu, poor little Usami. Oh well! You, my precious students, are the only ones I care about! Sorry to leave you waiting for so long. You must’ve been hopelessly bored! But now, finally, it’s time for the main attraction! You guys better hustle over to Jabberwock Park!”

It’s silent for a moment, aside from the waves and thunder.

Togami is the first person to break the quiet. “I have a bad feeling about this. I’ll head over first.”

“W-wait, you’re just going right over there?” Koizumi exclaims. “What about those of us who were swimming?”

Surprisingly enough, Komaeda is the one to speak up this time. “There’s no time,” He turns to the small group of people who’d refrained from joining their summer fun. “We’ll catch up. All of you go ahead.”

Izuru nods, not waiting for any other cue to walk to the central island. As he walks away, he can hear protests from the other swimmers as they head to change at the pool.

When Owari, Togami, Kuzuryuu, Saionji, Nanami, and Izuru arrive at Jabberwock Park, it’s nearly empty. There’s no sign of Usami anywhere. The only thing there is sitting on the base of the large statue in the middle of the park. It swings its stubby legs and holds its chin in its ‘hand’. The best way Izuru can describe it is-

“Is that a fucking teddy bear?” Kuzuryuu asks, face scrunched up in confusion.

“I am not a teddy bear! I’m way cooler than those lame stuffed animals!” The creature says proudly. Its ever-constant grin somehow seems more smug, even if it didn’t actually move at all.

Nanami yawns. “You look like one, I think.” Everyone else nods along with her, murmuring their agreement.

It stutters, the white half of its body turning bright red. “Y-you kids these days have no respect for your elders! Besides, you all came too early anyway so I didn’t have my cool, amazing entrance ready yet! Shame on you!” Its voice grows higher and higher as it gradually becomes more frustrated, hopping up and down angrily. Its feet make little squeaking noises as it moves around. “Apologize to your headmaster!”

Togami’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Headmaster!?”

At that moment, the rest of the class rushes in, hair and skin still slightly wet from the ocean. Right behind them is Usami, as if herding them all together.

Upon seeing the bear, Usami straightens up in panic before whipping out her magic stick. “Just as I thought… It was you! But… how… why is Monokuma here!?”

Monokuma… That must be its name…

“Ughhhhh! Shut! Up!” Monokuma yells. “This ‘heart-throbbing school trip’ stuff is sooooo boring! You better knock off this farce right now! Nobody wants to see high school students living calm and peaceful lives.”

From where he stood, Izuru could hear Kuzuryuu mutter under his breath. “Wh-what the hell is with this stuffed animal? Nothing it’s saying makes any damn sense!”

Usami whirled around. “Everyone, be careful! He’s very dangerous! Stay back and leave it to me!” Izuru seemed to realize her mistake before anyone else did. “I don’t know why Monokuma is here, but as long as I have my magic- AAAAHH!” She screamed as Monokuma pounced on her. Their fight was furious, all roaring, clawing, and biting. Both the bunny and the bear seemed to be giving their all… but only one could win. Izuru’s classmates stiffen around him, Komaeda stepping forward to grab his hand as the winner turns around with a big grin on his face.

“DU-DU-DA-DAHHH! Victory!” Monokuma says, clutching a very broken magic stick in pudgy paws.

It was pathetic, seeing Usami try to grab what used to be her weapon. She reaches desperately up from her place on the ground, still hiccuping with sobs. “ Noooo ! My magic stick!”

Monokuma chuckles. “Puhuhuhu… Now, what do after my flawless victory… Oh, I know! I’ll give little Miss Usami a full Monokuma makeover! Ahahahaha!”

Usami trembles. “ Wh-what!? ” 

And then the rabbit disappears once more into a cloud of dust as Monokuma leaps onto her. “A little bit here… a little bit there… Ahhh, there we go! All done!”

“P-please,” Usami cries, now revealed. “Leave me alone…”

Izuru didn’t know what to say other than that he certainly had given her a makeover. Instead of her previous cute, innocent white bunny appearance, she now had a line splitting her down the middle, leaving one side milky white and the other a light pink. Her eye on the pink side had turned red, barely visible through all the tears. Izuru’s classmates avert their eyes, wincing with their shoulders raised.

“Wha- What is this!?” Usami tearfully exclaims. “I’m not supposed to look weird like this!”

“My my, defying your little brother’s fashion sense? How rude , Monomi-imouto!”

“M-monomi? Imouto!? What are you talking about, you big meanie!?”

“Your current position is too whimsical, too fun… So I’m setting you to be my little sister, Monomi!” The rabbit breaks into tears again at Monokuma’s words.

“Should… Should we call her Monomi now?” Komaeda whispers in Izuru’s ear. All he can do is shrug in response. He really isn’t sure what’s going on, to be quite honest. All Izuru knows is that this plushie bears very ill intent. Pun not intended.

“H-hey! I won’t let you do whatever you want!” Monomi stands up for herself, beady eyes scrunched tight.

“Grrrrr…” Monokuma responds. All of a sudden, he launches forward in a flash. Izuru blinks once, and when he opens his eyes, Monomi is lying on the pavement with a large bruise on her cheek. “How about that, you wimpy rabbit? Now you’ve learned your lesson! And you know, all of this is your fault, really. Turning your back on the enemy? How amateur! Even a one second opening is life-threatening on the battlefield.”

Izuru can hear his classmates muttering amongst themselves, all their hushed conversations along the lines of “What is going on!?” and “This seems bad!” Really, Izuru can’t help but agree with them. Even his knowledge is limited in this situation. It does seem like Monokuma is powerful, if his damage against Monomi says anything. After all, Monomi had previously shown an incredible amount of control over their situation- popping up out of nowhere, dismantling an entire classroom on the beach, even turning a chicken into a cow if Owari is to be believed. Could they really ever trust her in the first place?

“Anywhooooo,” Monokuma continues. “I’m Monokuma, the headmaster of Hope’s Peak Academy! …Oh hush, hush, stop acting all shocked! It’s not that surprising. I mean, your teacher is a rabbit and you all accepted that perfectly fine! Regardless, everyone’s gathered by now, so it’s time for your headmaster to make a formal declaration! Gather round everyone! Now. ”

Hesitantly, they all shuffle toward the stuffed bear. Everyone seems to huddle together a bit, as if it would save them from whatever their ‘headmaster’ has in store for them.

“From this point onwards,” Monokuma’s voice booms. “The killing school trip will commence!”

“NO!” Monomi sobs, collapsing to the ground in a hopeless heap drained of any resistance.

From the corner of his eye, Izuru can see Nanami flinch in fearful anticipation. Her gaze flicks over to him for a bone-chilling moment, before flashing back to the black-and-white monster before them.

“Wh-what do you mean!? What’s a killing school trip!?” Souda asks. His voice quivers as he speaks, betraying his shock and fear.

“A school trip where everyone gets along is so boring!” Monokuma continues, ignoring the mechanic’s question. “Soooo… I’ve found a way to spice things up! A game, if you will! Naturally, you all are the contestants. What fun! This is your chance to live out all your most corrupt, devilish dreams!”

“What are you talking about?” Togami asks, fists balled tightly.

“Isn’t it obvious?” The bear cackles. “You guys are going to kill each other!”

In an instant, the crowd breaks out in yells of protest and disbelief. Everyone steps back panickedly. Komaeda lets go of Izuru’s hand to cover his mouth in shock- he lets out small muffled scoffs as his shoulders shake. 

“KILL EACH OTHER!?”

“What are you talking about? Th-that’s impossible!”

“Shut up, bastard!”

A chorus of chaotic fear echoes through the plaza. Izuru looks down at the ground as he tries to process the situation. He walks into a classroom, the classroom falls apart, he meets his classmates, a storm rolls in all over a sudden, a stuffed bear shows up and tells them they’re going to kill each other. It doesn’t make much sense at the moment. He needs more information. Around him, the panic continues.

“Hey, hey, hey! All of you calm down! I haven’t finished explaining things yet!” The bear angrily yells. “You’re gonna wanna hear this part, trust me. Now, as I was saying! Forget all that friendship and rehabilitation crap, if you really want to get off this island… you’re going to have to kill one of your classmates! Well, that and get away with it. After a murder, a class trial will occur! There, the spotless students will face off against the blackened killer. Everyone will argue, blah blah blah, until voting time, when every person votes for who they think is the culprit! If the popular vote comes to the right answer, only the blackened will die via a fitting punishment. Buuuut, if you’re wrong, the blackened will survive and everyone else will be executed. The class trial is pretty much the best part of this whole shabang- other than the murder, of course.”

The class seems to be stunned into silence at Monokuma’s lengthy declaration of the rules. Some shiver in fear, some sob, and some have gone completely catatonic. Others, however…

“So, lemme get this straight,” Kuzuryuu says with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “If we kill someone and don’t get caught in that class trial thing, we get to leave the island?”

“Exactamundo!”

Togami stood up straight, a shocked expression on his face. “Surely you can’t be considering-”

“Shut it, richy rich,” Kuzuryuu scoffs. “I don’t need judgement from the likes of you. I can do what I want. If I want to leave, I’ll fuckin’ leave, no matter who I’ve gotta get rid of to do it. You better not stand in my way.” He glares at Togami fiercely. Izuru does not find it threatening. Nor does anyone else, if Owari’s snickers and Saionji’s sigh are to be trusted.

Togami only returns the glare.

Despite Kuzuryuu’s tough, nonchalant words, Izuru can tell he’s nervous. A bead of sweat collects on his brow and his fists appear to be clenched tightly in his pockets. The boy is clearly straining to keep his shoulders low. He doesn’t want to show even a smidge of weakness. This distraction certainly seems to be working for everyone else. They don’t seem to have noticed the way his legs shake underneath him. But unfortunately for Kuzuryuu, Izuru can see every tremor.

Monokuma sighs. “Welllll, if you two are done-”

“Wait!” Koizumi interrupts. “I have a question. If no one gets murdered… does that mean we’ll never leave this island!?”

“Awwww, who knows!” Monokuma exclaims in a carefree, lazy manner. He throws his paws up in the air. “And who cares! What matters is that you kids go into this killing school trip with a healthy, positive attitude.”

“Positive!??” Nidai furiously yells. “How the hell are we supposed to stay positive like this? You’ve been running your mouth all this time, and all you’re saying is nonsense! This has gone on long enough! I don’t want to get violent, but if I do, I have no idea what might happen!

Owari cracks her knuckles. “What, a fight? Do I get to beat the crap outta that black-and-white bear?”

Pekoyama is next to jump in, reaching for the sword sheathed on her back. She already stands in a professional fighting stance. “I’ll put a stop to this, with force if necessary.”

Everyone else backs away from the athletes of the group, as if attempting to escape the blast radius. Mioda, however, bounces excitedly on her feet. Izuru can practically see the sparkles radiating off of her. Tsumiki quickly bolts forward and grabs Mioda’s hand, pulling her back in a chorus of fervent apologies.

“Well, I guess I expected this reaction…” Monokuma mutters. As he looks back up at them, his spiky red eye seems to glow. “If you guys wanna do things by force, I’ll have no choice but to fight back with a little force of my own!”

At that, Monomi perks up from where she’d been shaking on her knees. “Wh-what? What force? What are you gonna do? K-kids, get back!”

But her command doesn’t come quick enough, and they’re all buffeted by a strong gust of wind as something gigantic lands in front of them with a loud thump. When Izuru looks up, the statue in the center of the park has disappeared. And in its place, four huge mechanical monsters.

Izuru can hear Komaeda behind him, choking on his own breath and stumbling back in terror and bewilderment. Around him, the others stutter out gasps and exclamations of confusion. Izuru can’t help but be confused, too- what are these things? What are they made of? Where did they come from?

He doesn’t even realize he’s taking a step forward until he feels someone grip his wrist. His first instinct is that it’s Komaeda, but the hands are too small, too soft. It feels like another hand he’d shaken earlier today. As he hesitantly turns around, he sees her: Nanami, with a stern but soft look on her face. She blinks at him a couple times as it sinks in just what’s happening. Then, a single whispered word exits her lips.

“ Don’t. ”

It’s good advice, objectively. But the feeling of her eyes boring into his, the way her hand tightly grips his own, and the strong, unrecognizable feeling eating away at his stomach is far too overwhelming. He wrenches his wrist away, and steps towards the robots.

Each beast seems to be made of a different material, although they’re all metal. Their wiring is visible through the cracks in their thick armor. Each wire is reinforced and appears to have several layers of rubber wrapped around it. It would take a fair bit of time to slice through even just one of them- long enough that anyone who tried would be quickly interrupted by the weapons on each beast. Even just one of the four is easily enough to disable a human being. Several, even. Just one of these could eviscerate every single one of them. Izuru doesn’t think anyone else needs to know that. The robots are also all based on animals, specifically the ones previously in the statue. Does that mean…?

Monokuma opens his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Monomi shakily rising to her feet. “Everybody stay back! I-I will protect you! I will protect you… even if it costs me my life!” Her glare would be intimidating if not for the fact that she’s a walking stuffed rabbit.

All Monokuma does in response is chuckle and make fake vomiting noises. “Ugh! Your sickly sweet sense of justice makes me want to puke! You know, Monomi,” His eyes narrow at her. “I think I’ve had enough of your babbling.”

At his words, one of the robotic animals flies into the air on magnificent iron wings. A machine gun assembles from within its arm, aimed directly at Monomi’s face. As the barrel begins to spin, Izuru’s classmates scream and pull back- but he can’t seem to move. Despite Nanami tugging at his arm, his feet feel glued to the pavement as he watches sparks fly from the now active machine gun.

The sound of ripping seams fills the air, as do the clumps of stuffing exploding out of what was once their disformed teacher. Bullet holes litter her plush body- one after the other in rapid succession, even after she’s certainly been rendered lifeless.

All Izuru can do is stare. He can see right through her, down to the pavement beneath her tattered body. The machine gun still hasn’t ceased its fire. Then- a whizzing past his ear, the feeling of cold, whipping wind, and a sharp pain in his cheek. Two fingers raise up of their own accord to touch the wound. Warm blood drips from his pierced skin. The wound is only surface level… but he had not anticipated it. Izuru feels… interested. He feels intrigued and surprised. He feels the unknown reaching its foreign tendrils toward him.

But despite the spectacular spontaneity of it all, there is an underlying current of familiarity in the way it stings.

Only then does the shooting stop. A tree behind Monomi falls to pieces as well, lying atop the scattered bullet holes along the pavement behind where she’d once been standing. Now she just lays on the ground, lifeless. Her bow falls to Izuru’s feet. Just like the rest of her, it is utterly unrecognizable through all the tattered circles shot out of it.

“Wh-wh-WHAT!?” Hanamura screams. “THIS ISN’T REAL! IT’S NOT REAL, PLEASE, PLEASE, THIS CAN’T BE REAL!” Raw desperation practically seeps out of his voice.

“Wh-What is that!?” Souda yells. The resident mechanic not understanding these machines doesn’t seem particularly comforting to his classmates, who all tense up where they stand.

“I-Is that a demon!?” Tanaka holds his hamsters tightly in his arms as if protecting them from the horrors before them. One hamster, the largest of them all, covers its eyes with its tiny paws.

Monokuma cackles. “Monobeasts are deadly weapons of destruction! Let this be a lesson to you all!”

“Th-they’re deadly alright…” Kuzuryuu mutters through clenched teeth.

“Man, this example was good idea,” Monokuma grins. “What a refreshing atmosphere of despair! Pure fear, I tell ya! I needed this…”

Owari grabs her skirt with her clenched fists, likely wrinkling it beyond belief with the tightness of her grip. “You sick bastard! You’re having fun, aren’tcha!?”

“Why, of course I am! Now then, I believe I’ve made my point. Just so we’re clear, you guys can’t defy me. If you even try… well, just look at Monomi over there.”

“You’re sick!” Souda yells. “You’re seriously sick!”

Monokuma giggles mischievously. “Heh, only one person’s sick here and it sure ain’t me.”

Izuru thinks back to Komaeda’s frail frame and unhealthily pale skin, among other signs of illness he’d noticed earlier. He must be talking about him… Izuru contemplates, hypothesis confirmed by the way Monokuma’s eyes flicker behind him.

The bear continues his speech. “Also, if you look at your handy-dandy E-Handbook, you’ll notice I’ve updated the rules! Take a look at those if you’d like! I’ve already said most of ‘em already, but there are a few new ones for you to take note of… if you don’t want to be punished, that is. I won’t hesitate to punish any of you, either. I’ve done it before and believe me, I’ll do it again.” The glinting silver of the Monobeasts’ metallic skin seems more eye-catching than ever. “Now then… Enjoy the remainder of this liberating and harsh school trip! Welp, I’m heading home. See ya in the morning!” At that, Monokuma simply walked behind the statue, squeaking with every footstep. It was oddly adorable.

“...Home?” Koizumi asks, scratching her head.

“Hey, guys?” Souda pipes up from where he stands, peeking behind the statue. “He’s gone.”

“So weird… This is so weird…” Saionji mumbles to herself. Izuru can’t help but agree.

“I’m exhausted…” Komaeda says. Everyone else nods in agreement. Their tiredness shows clearly on their faces. “Wh-what just happened?”

“I have no idea,” Togami responds. “But what I do know is this: these machines, including Monokuma himself, must be being controlled by someone. There’s no way they could act on their own. I don’t know who in the world is in charge of these machines… but we don’t need to be cautious of them. We don’t need to be cautious of Monokuma or his Monobeasts either. More than anything, we must be cautious of ourselves.”

Izuru looks around at his classmates, all of whom seem to have the same idea. Everyone has an equally distrusting look on their face.

“Being brought to a tropical island with complete strangers, and being ordered to kill each other to escape…” Togami continues, a severe and stern expression on his face. “That creates fear in our minds, and from that fear comes paranoia and the desire to escape that hopeless fear. That desire is our worst enemy. Be honest with yourselves: you all have the potential to kill. Despite that, I implore you to not let suspicion cloud your judgement, even suspicion of yourself. We are all ‘in the same boat’, so to speak.”

Same boat, same storm. Here, everyone is equal. Equal in chance, equal in opportunity. In the end , Izuru thinks, that equality will be our downfall.

As he walks back to his cottage with everyone else, that thought is perhaps the only thing in this world he’s sure of.

He’s unsure of his classmates, their ward, and this island as a whole.

He’s unsure of Nanami and her all-knowing eyes. He’s unsure of the way she stands at the edge of the crowd, no suspicion on her face like everyone else. He’s unsure of how she just seems resigned.

He’s unsure of Komaeda’s constant smile, so reassuring except for now, when it seems fitting of a man who’s just been given the opportunity of a lifetime.

He’s unsure of his past and of any information given to him concerning it; is Kamukura Izuru even his real name? It feels familiar, and Komaeda had even said so as well, but he has no real way of knowing. He doesn’t know his talent. He doesn’t know who he is.

And most of all, as Izuru stares at the ceiling of his cottage, as he remembers the information that had come unbidden to him all throughout the day, he is unsure of how much he can trust his own mind.

"I mean really, he took everything from you! Your life, your body, your future, your best friend… Hope's Peak Academy has already been punished," She frowns, eyebrows turned up in sadness and concern. "But he's gotten away scot free, huh?"

He shivers. He drops his head into his hands and grips his hair tightly, pulling like it'll suddenly grow into a long waterfall of inky darkness. "He has… He got everything. That was supposed to be me. "

She nods. "You deserved so much more."

He raises his head, glaring straight ahead.

She smiles encouragingly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I can help you get what you deserve."

"And he'll pay?"

Her smile grows into a sharp, uncanny grin. "Oh, he will. They all will."

Chapter Text

Against all odds, Izuru’s sleep was restful. He wakes up feeling refreshed and ready for the day. Walking out of his cottage, though, he sees that not everyone has had the same experience.

Souda paces on the boardwalk, pulling his beanie down around his ears. When his pacing brings him face to face with Izuru, he lets out a shrill scream that exposes his unnaturally sharp teeth. “DUDE! What are you doing, sneaking up on me like that!?”

“...I didn’t sneak up on you. I simply left my cottage.” Izuru says.

“Jeez, whatever, man. Just don’t scare me like that again!” Souda pouts and crosses his arms.

A noise almost like a clown honking rings out from next to and beneath them, where Monokuma has suddenly and miraculously appeared. “Hey there, you two! Howwww’s it goin’?”

“OH MY GOD!” Souda screams again and falls into a huddled ball on the ground, sheltering his head with his hands. “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME!?”

“I’m the Despair Bear! It’s my job, kiddo!”

“Why do you have that title!?” The mechanic sobs. “I thought you were the headmaster!”

“I can be two things! I’m both your headmaster, and your tormentor. Multitasking is my passion!” The sadistic bear’s grin grows wider.

Izuru leans over to look at Monokuma. “Can you torment someone else please?”

“ Oh, jesus - I didn’t see you there! You’re too quiet. Stop scaring your headmaster! Anyway, nah, you two are the only ones out here! Everyone else is having some sort of meeting in the dining hall. Booooriiiiing!”

“Mm,” Izuru hums and begins to walk away “Bye.”

“HEY!” Monokuma yells from behind him. “YOU GET BACK HERE, YOU INSOLENT BRAT! Hey, Souda-kun, don’t you crawl away from me!”

When Izuru enters the restaurant, the meeting seems to have already begun. The rest of his classmates are sitting at tables lined with plentiful breakfast dishes. The only one not eating is Togami, who stands with his back to the door and speaks in an authoritative voice. “...When everyone is here, then we can start talking.”

Komaeda’s eyes wander and he perks up when he sees Izuru over Togami’s shoulder. “Ah, Kamukura-kun, you’re here! Oh, and Souda-kun.” Izuru can practically smell Souda’s disappointment at the underwhelming greeting from where he loiters in the doorway.

Togami turns around with a stern look on his face. “Ah, you’ve finally arrived. How nice of you to join us. Come, sit, I’d like to make an announcement, so to speak.” As Izuru and Souda move to sit by Komaeda and Sonia respectively, the affluent progeny clears his throat and begins his speech. “First, I have a question for you all. Under these strange circumstances, what do you think we need right now?”

Izuru hears muttered answers from various spots in the room. Food and sleep from Owari, ‘shitting’ from Nidai, hope from Komaeda, energy from Mioda, and a loud, bored groan from Saionji, among others. Clearly, none of them were the answers Togami had been looking for.

“ Wrong. We do not need anything so flimsy as teamwork or optimism. What we need right now is disciplined leadership provided by an unmistakable leader! “ He says as if speaking in front of a larger audience than just 15 other teenagers.

“Nidai-kun?” Komaeda asks, politely raising his hand.

Togami seems to falter at that, clearly insulted. “Obviously not. I shall accept the position. Is there anyone as qualified as I to lead- Jesus christ, this is not a Q&A.” He seemingly gives up halfway through his pitch upon seeing Izuru’s raised hand. “ What is it ?”

“A leader in this position would be a terrible idea.” Izuru says bluntly. From next to him, Komaeda chokes as he takes a sip from his glass of water.

Togami laughs incredulously. “Oh, and why is that, pray tell? I’d love to hear your perspective, commoner.”

Izuru finds it tedious to explain his reasoning when it’s so obvious, but he answers anyway. “You can die. Any one of us can die. It’s not a problem with you specifically, it’s a problem of weakness and a potential power vacuum. If one died after becoming our leader, it would leave the rest of us floundering as if a metaphorical rug had just been pulled out from under us. The risks of a power hierarchy outweigh the rewards in such a dangerous situation as this.”

The affluent progeny who had been so confident just a moment ago seems to be at a loss for words. He opens his mouth as if to speak before promptly closing it and pursing his lips. In his thoughtful silence, a discussion strikes up amongst the others.

“You bring up a very good point, Kamukura-kun.” Komaeda mumbles thoughtfully.

Sonia is the next to speak up. “Although I do see your point, as a leader myself, I have to disagree! In times of crisis, a nation needs a good figurehead to lead them through the struggle!”

“Yes, but leaders in your country have real power and responsibility.” Izuru rebuts. “A leader here would just be an honorary title for someone who brings the group together and talks at them- and even that paints a target on said leader’s back. That leader will not have the safety and security that you and your family do. It simply leaves us in a state of weakness.”

Sonia nods understandingly. Still, Nidai appears to have a few qualms. “But isn’t it important to have unity in this situation? That could prevent suspicion and murder!”

Komaeda speaks up for him this time. “I don’t think Kamukura-kun is saying that we should have an ‘every man for himself’ system. We can still be united and work together without a leader. In fact, I think it’d make us even stronger.” Izuru nods his agreement.

Saionji pops up, and Izuru can tell from her mischievous grin that she’s only arguing to cause conflict. “But what about-!”

“Stop.” Togami says with a finality that shuts everyone up. “Kamukura is correct. We will not have a leadership position. You are dismissed.” Lost in his own mind, the boy walks down the stairs to leave the restaurant, not sparing even a passing glance behind him.

“...Well, I think leaving like that might be a little dramatic.” Koizumi mutters lightheartedly.

Kuzuryuu grumbles. “Whatever. He was being a self-centered douchebag anyway. Now if you’re all done bothering me, I’ll be leaving, too.” And just as he said he would, Kuzuryuu leaves the way he presumably came: stomping down the stairs with a grumpy look on his face. The yakuza heir reminds Izuru of a small, angry dog.

The rest of breakfast passes without much fuss. Izuru finds the food to be good, but Hanamura blabs on and on about how he could make something far better for the group. Still, he makes no move to get up and do so. Izuru easily tunes him and his perverted comments out, and focuses on his plate. Next to and across from him, Komaeda has an enthusiastic but mostly one-sided conversation with Tsumiki, who simply stutters and squeaks in response to all his questions about her talent.

“Kamukura-kun,” Komaeda says when Izuru is just about finished eating his food. “I was thinking that tomorrow we could go around and start experimenting with what talent you might have! Maybe we could even come visit you, Tsumiki-san!” The girl nods quickly, lowering her head so her choppy bangs seem to cover the entire upper half of her face.

“Mm. I have no qualms.” Izuru says, and promptly ends the conversation by standing up and walking away, leaving a noticeably empty seat behind him among his far more social classmates. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Komaeda stacking his leftover plate and cutlery into a neat pile to be taken to the kitchen later. The boy’s smile is wide but thin, as if it were a layer of dust over some indiscernible book cover. He looks at Izuru’s back for a moment, and his gaze both darkens and brightens into a curiosity matching Izuru’s own. This talent experiment will be useful for both of them; Komaeda can hopefully find a way to sate his curiosity about Izuru’s past, and Izuru can subtly find answers to the underlying questions he sees in Komaeda’s behavior. He finds it to be a good example of symbiosis. As a plus, it might even be entertaining.

The island heat beats down on him, accompanied by the chirping of birds. When Izuru looks up, the sun bores into his eyes and makes them sting. The stinging is sharp and unkind. It’s unexpected. The way it overcomes him until he can’t look anymore is all brand new and it entrances him. Still, he knows that any further staring could damage his eyes. He looks down and moves on.

The boardwalk creaks beneath his feet as he makes the short trek to his cottage. Upon opening the door, Izuru is hit with a refreshing blast of cool air. He flops down onto the stiff bed and stares straight up at the ceiling. It’s blank. It doesn’t glow, burn, or give warmth. It’s truly and utterly boring. Unfortunately, he has nothing better to do.

He’s really not sure how much time passes as he lies on his back and stares directly upwards. All he knows is that after some time, someone comes knocking aggressively on his door. Finally, something to do, Izuru thinks in a monotone inner voice. He rises from the bed and walks leisurely to the door.

Outside, Kuzuryuu stands with his arms crossed tightly. “You sure took your sweet fuckin’ time.”

“I saw no point in hurrying. We should have plenty of time to speak.”

“Still, don’t leave me waiting like that, you bastard! We need to have a chat.” At that, Kuzuryuu pushes past Izuru with a surprising amount of strength given his small stature. The yakuza plops down on a chair and crosses his legs, holding his hands in a steeple position. Izuru recognizes the steepled fingers as a way to convey confidence and authority. Still, despite trying to seem powerful and mature, the short boy looks seconds away from throwing a furious tantrum.

Izuru takes a seat across from him. “What is it you wanted to talk about?”

“Listen up, asshole. I can’t have you disrespecting me like you did yesterday. I just wanted to let you know that if you ever pull that bullshit again, I’ll-”

“Kill me?” Izuru finishes his sentence, barely phased. “I highly doubt that. Although you may put on a strong front, you’re more sensitive than the other yakuza in your clan. You have a shorter temper, but that also means your other emotions can rise more easily as well. Not only are you mad at me, I’ve made you feel insecure. You’re not confident in yourself or your position. Judging by your nervousness, you wouldn’t commit murder over just that. If that were the case, you would have murdered many people ages ago.”

Kuzuryuu’s jaw drops and a bead of sweat races down his jaw. “W-what the fuck are you talking about? I- I’m-” He stutters, clearly unsure of what to do or say. “You’re an asshole. You’re a creepy asshole and you’re wrong. Just sh-shut the fuck up already and stop disrespecting me !” The short boy quickly launches up out of his chair and stomps out of the cottage in a nervous rage.

“...That went well.” Izuru says to the empty room.

Looking around the drab cottage, the aching boredom in his chest swells once again. Staying here feels almost claustrophobic. The decision to leave comes to him quickly, and he soon strolls out of the cabin and away from the hotel.

The Rocketpunch Market is far too big for the 16 people currently living on the island- 17 if Monokuma counts as a person. Still, the supplies will likely be useful.

Wandering the aisles, Izuru finds an extensive and varied stock. The market has everything from food to night vision goggles, as well as plenty of potentially deadly items like baseball bats and survival knives. The organization of the aisles seems random as well- aisle 18 contains lamps, but when Izuru transfers to aisle 19, he finds a variety of pesticides. Taking a pause, he checks the label on a bottle of liquid rat poison. He begins to reach out, but is interrupted by a jarring and unexpected voice.

“Hello there, young man!” Monomi’s telltale sing-song tone comes from behind him.

Although it’s certainly a bit of a surprise, Izuru isn’t necessarily shocked when he turns around to see a small pink and white bunny standing at his feet. “Mm. Hello.”

Monomi cocks her head. “Oh… I expected you to be a bit more surprised! I’ve spoken to your classmates already and they didn’t handle my presence very well.” Her ears droop pitifully.

“I didn’t expect you to come back, but it does make sense. You are a robot. It is possible to replace and/or repair you.”

“I’m not just a robot,” Monomi huffs. “I’m also your teacher! And I just wanted to let you know that I won’t let anything bad happen to you kids! N-not anymore…”

“Empty words. There is nothing you can do.” Ignoring her futile insistences, Izuru turns on his heel and walks out of the market without a second thought. As he leaves, a monitor outside the store blinks to life just as it had the day before, and Monokuma’s voice blares out of it.

“Ahem! My beloved students, please gather at Jabberwock Park for a very important announcement. Well, please isn’t really the right word… IT’S MANDATORY! GET OVER HERE!” The bear yells shrilly before the screen goes dark again.

Izuru shrugs at the command. He has nothing better to do.

Not many are at the park when he first arrives. It’s only him, Togami, Koizumi, and Pekoyama. Slowly but surely, though, the entire class begins to file in. As soon as Kuzuryuu, the last person to enter the park, takes a single step onto the luscious grass, Monokuma’s voice booms out into the courtyard.

“Well, hello, hello!” He grins, appearing suddenly in front of the massive pedestal that once housed the Monobeasts. “You’ve all arrived! That’s great because honestly, I would’ve killed you if you hadn’t come. Man, would that be a bummer or what?”

Saionji giggles behind her hand. “Depends who it is, hehe…”

“Puhuhu, I love your spirit, kid! Maybe you can channel that into something a little more productive ,” Monokuma winks at the short girl. “Anyways, I’ve got some fantastic news for you!

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Togami glares at the bear.

“Awww, how mean! A student bullying the headmaster… just terrible behavior, really. And after I was about to announce my very generous favor! But still, since I’m such a good teacher, I won’t hold it against you.” Monokuma toddles around the courtyard on his stubby legs, weaving in between the students. “So I’ve been thinkin’. You lot are just too complacent! Just the fear of staying here forever isn’t enough for you to commit murder. You need… a motive. ”

Hushed murmurs of concern spread through the crowd like a plague.

“T-there’s no motive you could possibly give that could make any of us commit murder!” Koizumi stutters, clearly trying to convince herself as much as the rest of them.

“You’d be surprised,” Izuru chimes in. “The human psyche is much more easily manipulated than you think. With enough motivation, any one of us could kill another without hesitation.”

“Including you?” Nanami says, standing somewhere toward the back of the crowd. Her eyes seek him out and ask a testing question. She mercilessly stares him down as if observing his reaction.

Izuru nods, suppressing the chill down his spine. “Including me.” Nanami blinks at him wordlessly in response.

“Oh, enough with the debate!” Monokuma interrupts with a bored groan. “I know for a fact that one of you will commit some sweet, sweet killin’! Especially with this yummy motive I’m about to give ya! Now shut up and look at your E-Handbook.”

FIRST MOTIVE:

UPON KILLING A CLASSMATE, THE BLACKENED CAN SEND A MESSAGE OF THEIR CHOICE TO SOMEONE IN THE OUTSIDE WORLD. THE MESSAGE WILL BE SENT REGARDLESS OF WHETHER OR NOT THE BLACKENED SURVIVES THE TRIAL.

Izuru blinks down at his E-Handbook emotionlessly. For a class motive, it certainly wasn’t universal. It doesn’t affect him at all- thus, zero temptation. Izuru supposes this is a good thing, if a bit underwhelming.

Looking up, Izuru sees his classmates in various states of reaction. Some, like him, simply stare at the screen with no concern. Others clutch their handbooks like a lifeline, gripping it like it’ll collapse and count as a victim. Some cover their expressions with practiced ambivalence but are exposed by trembling limbs and quivering lips. Nanami isn’t even looking at the motive. Izuru pointedly avoids her gaze.

“Sooooo, whaddya think?” Monokuma asks, suddenly holding a clipboard and pen. “Give your headmaster some feedback!”

“Do we get a response back?” Hanamura asks, a member of the group that was clearly and obviously disturbed by the motive.

“Uh, not feedback, but I’ll answer your question anyway: No! You’ll be left in suspense- unless you succeed with the trial and go home, puhuhu. Then you can get as many responses as you want! That’s called a conversation.”

Owari raises her hand. “Can we send more than one message? I got a lotta people back home.”

“Again, not feedback!” Monokuma says through gritted teeth in a strained grin. “But the answer is no. One message- and this is a limited time offer! Only the blackened this time around can say their piece to the outside world!”

Izuru is next to raise a comment. “This does not apply to me.” Komaeda nods in agreement from across the courtyard. 

The bear sighs in relief. “Finally, some constructive criticism! Uh, I guess I’ll get you a more fitting motive next time. You get a freebie for this round! I mean you can kill someone if you want but you won’t really have anything to send out. Sorry, bud!” Monokuma scribbles some stuff on the clipboard (judging by his hand movements, the bear is crudely doodling a girl getting stabbed by spears) before looking back up at the group. “Welp, any questions? …No? Then you’re dismissed. Get some rest, my sleepy little war criminals!”

As soon as they’re given permission, the classmates start to trickle out of the park and head back to the cottage. Most are wordless, but some pairs like Nidai and Owari have spirited conversations during their walk home. Izuru chooses silence.

The hotel is different at night. The pool glows with ethereal light and the main building looks abandoned with its pitch black interior peeking through the windows. The waves beneath the boardwalk lap at the support beams at what seems like a deafening decibel when all else is silent. Izuru walks to his door, but doesn’t yet go in.

It isn’t long before Komaeda passes by, sparing a quick absentminded goodnight before returning to his state of deep thought. Before he can walk away, Izuru stops him. “Wait.”

Komaeda turns. “Kamukura-kun? Is something the matter?” Although he’s schooled his face into a picture of curiosity, his mind is clearly elsewhere. His eyes seem glazed over with a dark emptiness. Still, their gazes make contact.

Izuru hesitates for a moment before he speaks. In that short time, Komaeda tilts his head in a way that should remind him of a dog, but instead makes him think of a head eerily tilting on its axis and falling to the ground. His eyes remain wide. Spirals of gray and green echo deep in his iris, folding in on itself to mimic an illusion of casual normalcy. But Izuru can tell that that’s all it is- an illusion. He speaks his mind just like Komaeda had told him to the day before. “There is something wrong with you.”

The white-haired boy winces before regaining his composure. “Ah, is that so? Well, I suppose there are many things that are wrong with me! I’m worthless,” The smile that slides onto his face falls directly into the uncanny valley. “I can give you space if you’d like.”

“That’s not what I meant. You’re thinking of doing something. Something bad.”

“And what do you suppose is ‘bad’, Kamukura-kun?”

Neither of them give an answer. They just look at each other for what feels like an eternity. Komaeda doesn’t look away, and neither does Izuru, but Izuru doesn’t blink either. In his full, uninterrupted view, he can see the other boy tense up ever so slightly.

“Don’t do it. It won’t be worth it.”

“I disagree-”

“I’m telling you. Don’t do it,” Izuru nods his head toward the other cabins. “...They’ll do your job for you soon enough.”

Komaeda says nothing for 53 seconds. Then, he smiles far too wide. “Whatever you say, Kamukura-kun. I’ll leave it alone this time!” The white-haired boy doesn’t wait for a reaction before turning on his heel and walking toward his cottage.

As Izuru looks up to the sky, he rolls the other boy’s words around in his mind like a spinning top. The metaphorical top spirals and spirals, its black and white swirling design melting together into a gross gray, before it topples over once and for all.

This time.

Chapter Text

Izuru wakes the next morning to a chiming doorbell echoing in his cottage. He walks to the door promptly, without an ounce of grogginess. On the other side, Komaeda rocks on his heels with his hands stuffed in his pockets, as chipper as ever.

“Good morning, Kamukura-kun! I thought it might be a good idea to come wake you up for breakfast since you were late yesterday. How did you sleep?” His mannerisms contain little evidence that he remembers last night’s conversation, but his facade is given away by his bloodshot eyes and visible fidgeting. He’s just… ignoring it completely.

Two can play at that game , Izuru decides. “Mm. Good morning. I slept fine. Shall we?” He darts around the other boy and steps out onto the boardwalk.

At the restaurant, the two boys are met with quite the chaotic scene. Owari is stuffing food in her mouth and chewing loudly, Mioda is miming air guitar atop a table, and Tsumiki is sobbing profusely at Saionji’s continuous rude comments. Some, like Nidai and Tanaka, seem to embrace the chaos, while others try their best to ignore the others and eat a peaceful breakfast. Komaeda weaves between Saionji and Tsumiki and lands a seat beside Koizumi, who sits with her chin in her hand and stares off into space.

“Good morning, Koizumi-san!”

“Oh, uh- good morning, Komaeda,” She says, jumping a bit at his voice. “And you too, I guess, Kamukura. I didn’t see you there.”

“Sorry for startling you! It certainly wasn’t my intention!” Komaeda says.

The sound of a fork being tapped against a glass silences them before the conversation can continue. The group turns to look at the source of the noise- Hanamura, standing on a chair with an empty glass and fork in his hands. “Ahem!” The short boy starts. “I have an announcement to make. I’d like you all to join me tonight at a special dinner made by yours truly! I think it’ll be a wonderful way for us to make peace and ah, get to know each other , if you know what I mean.”

From a couple seats over, Izuru can hear Koizumi make a sound of sheer disgust.

“I would appreciate it if everyone would come. Even uh, Kuzuryuu-kun, who… doesn’t appear to be here. Hmph.” True to the chef’s word, Izuru sees no trace of Kuzuryuu when he scans the restaurant. He has to wonder where the short boy is getting his meals.

“I will pass the word on to him.” Pekoyama says, nodding with an ever-stoic expression.

Hanamura winks at her. “Fantastic, just fantastic! It just wouldn’t be the same without him. So spicy! Anyhow, you should all come to the restaurant tonight at six o’clock for a delicious meal! …And maybe more,” Another wink follows his statement. “Now you can continue eating! Please try to finish quickly though because I do need to start preparing the food soon.”

“Ah, how fun!” Komaeda says, lightly clapping his hands together. “Such a great idea is expected from the Ultimate Chef. A nice group meal will surely ease any tension left over from the motive.”

Izuru shakes his head. “I doubt it’ll be that simple.”

Komaeda looks over at him from the corner of his eye. “Oh, you can never be sure, Kamukura-kun. But maybe you’re right. Maybe something will happen.” In that moment, the odd creepiness the boy had exuded the night before creeps back into his gaze, but it disappears just as quickly, leaving Izuru to stare at a simple, innocent boy eating his breakfast. “Mm, in the meantime before the dinner, we should go spend some time with our classmates and experiment with your talent, Kamukura-kun!”

“...Very well.”

“Great! Now, who to see… It’ll have to be someone with a talent we can easily test, which takes Nidai-kun, Togami-kun, Kuzuryuu-kun, and Sonia-san off the table… Oh, and myself! Plus, you already kind of did a test with Tanaka-kun the other day with the information about his hamsters. That still leaves a decent list though… I guess we can just wing it, then? First off, how about Nanami-san-”

“ No. ” Izuru says firmly. He can feel Nanami’s gaze boring into his back even now- he does not want to spend any more time with her than necessary.

Komaeda blinks awkwardly at him. “Um… Okay. We won’t visit her, then. Let’s see, what about Tsumiki-san? We already told her we’d stop by so we might as well test her nursing talent first.”

“That works.” Izuru nods. The other boy sighs in relief at his approval.

“Alright, let’s check the map and go see her!”

Tsumiki’s cottage is crowded to say the least. In the few days they’d been living on the island, Izuru is somewhat surprised to see how much medical equipment she’d managed to spread across every square inch of her living space. Every surface shines with assorted tools for a check-up- tools the nurse is currently handing to Izuru with shaky hands

“W-would you mind just running me through a quick examination? I just think it m-might help me determine y-your level of expertise… if that’s o-o-okay! With you!”

“Hmmm,” Komaeda hums thoughtfully from where he stands, leaning near the doorframe. “I guess that does make sense. Kamukura-kun doesn’t remember ever going to a checkup, so he shouldn’t be able to perform one.”

Tsumiki and Izuru both nod. “Y-yes, that’s exactly w-what I was thinking… Now,” She suddenly seems much more confident. “Kamukura-san, please do an examination on Komaeda-san. I have all necessary equipment prepared.”

“Ahhh, no thank you! I don’t know if I’m comfortable with that. Maybe he could examine you instead, Tsumiki-san.”

“I don’t care either way.” Izuru shrugs.

Upon Tsumiki’s approval, he begins the check-up. As if he were going on autopilot, information rises to the front of his brain and his body moves almost on its own, going through the motions of a physical examination. Tsumiki is 165 centimeters tall and rests at a healthy weight of 57 kilograms, and her body temperature and blood pressure are almost alarmingly average at 36.1 degrees Celsius and 110/75 respectively. Her reflexes and orifices are completely normal. The only remotely alarming results are her high pulse and respiration rate, but that’s clearly expected for someone so consistently anxious.

“Well, that was awfully quick!” Komaeda says once it’s clear that they’re finished.

“I-it was. You are... r-remarkably skilled, Kamukura-san. It’s definitely strange!” Tsumiki stuttered out, brows furrowed in confusion. “F-forgive me for assuming, b-but I think y-you might also be the Ultimate Nurse.”

“Maybe. I do not know. It seems unlikely that that is my title, though.” Although the talent itself certainly feels fitting, Izuru can’t help but feel a certain disconnect to the name of ‘Ultimate Nurse.’ He has an odd sense that whatever his Ultimate really is, it’s not limited only to this.

“Wow, what luck that we immediately stumbled upon your area of expertise!” Komaeda brightens up. “Do you want to end our search now, Kamukura-kun?”

He takes a moment to consider, but it doesn’t last very long. The answer is obvious, and something he finds himself thinking often in this experience: he needs more observation. “...No. Let’s continue. Check the map.”

They find Koizumi on the beach, looking out at the sea with her camera tucked to her chest. As they approach, the shot she’s been waiting for appears in the shape of a wave cresting perfectly over the horizon. Her camera raises and, with the simple press of a button, the photo is realized.

“Hello.” Izuru says from behind her while she surveys the picture she’s just taken.

“Woah!” She jumps. “Jeez, this is the second time today you two have startled me. I’m starting to think it might be purposeful.”

Komaeda sheepishly raises his hands. “Sorry, Koizumi-san. I promise we don’t mean to scare you. We’ve been trying to figure out Kamukura-kun’s talent by having him test some of our classmates’ talents! Would you be willing to help us out?”

“Oh, uh… sure, I guess. But be careful with my camera, Unreliable Kamukura!” She insists, poking a finger into Izuru’s chest.

“I will not damage it.” He says as Koizumi carefully hands the camera over to him.

As expected, Koizumi’s camera is the best digital camera on the market- digital being the operative word. Most photographers agree that classic optical cameras are better, but, Izuru supposes, that difference wouldn’t matter much to the Ultimate Photographer. After all, she could probably shoot a masterpiece out of the first camera ever created. Regardless, her current camera is of the highest quality. It has a wide range of settings from which to choose the aperture and depth of field, among other options to alter the composition of the photograph.

Izuru handles it gently, taking a quick walk around the beach to find the subject of his photo. It doesn’t take too long before he finds it.

Koizumi looks a bit confused when he takes her by the shoulders and steers her to face away from the ocean. “H-hey, what are you-! Get your hands off me! Jeez, you creep.”

Izuru mumbles a quick apology before settling right in front of her, aiming the camera at her befuddled expression. She seems to get the idea though, as her face forms into a soft- but still slightly confused- smile. He fiddles with some knobs and buttons before finally deciding on the perfect composition. Right before he takes the photo, Izuru shoots her a quick thumbs up, which gets just the reaction he’d wanted: Koizumi giggles. Then, click .

The moment he lowers the camera, Koizumi reaches out to take it back. She quickly thumbs through the options. Upon finding the photo he’d just taken, her eyes widen and her jaw drops a bit. “Woah… Kamukura, this is- this is-”

Komaeda looks over her shoulder and exclaims, “Amazing! It’s amazing, Kamukura-kun. So beautiful!”

Koizumi looks a tad annoyed. “Well, that’s kind of empty praise, but… he’s right. This is really incredible. The colors, the focus, the exposure… As much as I hate to admit it, this is honestly up there with some of my own photos. Is this your first time using a camera?” At his nod, her eyes open even wider. “Oh my god. You’ve really got a knack for this, Kamukura. You better shoot something with me soon! Now, smile!” Without warning, she turns the camera around to aim back at him and snaps a quick picture. She looks back down at the photo and grimaces. “Oh, uh… that’s- a smile. I’ll take a better one later. In the meantime, I’ll go print the one you took. See you later. And uh, I guess you aren’t so unreliable after all.” She smiles bashfully as she turns to walk away.

She seems much more relaxed now than she had been before. “Koizumi must really love her talent.” Izuru mutters. “Now, let’s move on.”

After an intense stretching session with Owari and an insult-filled traditional Nihon Buyo dance with Saionji, Izuru and Komaeda head back to the restaurant to speak to Hanamura about a quick test of Izuru’s cooking ability. As they walk up the stairs, Koizumi passes by them in the opposite direction. Koizumi’s previous stressed state seems to have returned to her by now, leaving her hands balled into fists and eyes staring into nothing.

“Hi, Koizumi-san- Oh, she ignored me. Ah,” Komaeda frowns. “Well, let’s go see Hanamura-kun…”

However, Komaeda is immediately met with another rejection the moment he steps into the kitchen.

Upon seeing them, Hanamura whirls around from where he stands by the stove, rushing to where the two boys stand by the door. “Get out of my kitchen! I know you’re just dying to spend time with me but you need to leave! For heaven’s sake, you people need to stop bothering me while I’m trying to make a gourmet meal for 16 people. Let me focus on my art!” Komaeda tries to splutter out an explanation as the chef shoos them out the door and into the dining area, but his efforts are to no avail. With a surprising show of strength, Hanamura pushes them out of the kitchen in fervent frustration and slams the door behind them.

“Nevermind, I guess?” Komaeda says, frowning once again.

“Ouchie wouchie!” Comes a voice from one of the tables. Upon looking, they see Mioda kicking her legs in front of an empty plate of what used to be cake. “Teruteru-chan was being so mean! Ibuki is just trying to enjoy her late lunch, and he’s all shouty and grumpy. On a beautiful day like this, how could anyone be upset?”

“Hello, Mioda.” Izuru says, walking to her seat. “The other day, you mentioned a possible… ‘jam sesh’ with me. Well, Komaeda and I are running an experiment-”

He’s cut off by a loud gasp. “Yes! Yes yes yes! Ibuki would loooooove to rock out with Izuru-chan! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooooo!” She exclaims, dragging him by the wrist out of the restaurant.

Similar to Tsumiki’s, Mioda’s cottage is extremely cluttered. However, the musician’s living space does have a much more notable personality. Loud, colorful band posters line the walls and various instruments are leaning against every wall. The moment she crosses the threshold, Mioda rushes over to an electric guitar and slings the strap around her shoulders. Then she grabs a bass guitar off the bathroom door and practically skips over to hand it to Izuru. “Here you are, Izuru-chan! Let’s jam! I think bass is a good instrument for you cuz you’re all badummmmmdumdum , you know?”

“I do not.”

“Okie dokie, doesn’t matter! Just play from your heart and let’s play some funky-schmunky jaaaaazz . Oh, yeah, wait! Nagito-chan, do you wanna play with us?”

Komaeda shakes his head with a grin. “No thanks, Mioda-san. I’ll just listen.” He says as he takes a seat on Mioda’s bed.

“Yayyyyy! Let’s get started! Rock and roll!” Mioda bounces on her heels.

Mioda’s musical style is certainly unique. She mutters alongside intense metal playing out of her guitar. Every note is experimental, overwhelming, and spontaneous. Her fingers jump across the strings in a passionate staccato and she dances on her toes along with the music, bouncing and rocking her head like every moment is special and joyful- and perhaps it is to her. The way Mioda plays is an insight into who Mioda is . She is chaotic and emotional and enthusiastic. She is aware, and she is oblivious, and she is ready to jump into any oncoming situation. Truly, she rides the waves of the music like it’s playing her instead of the other way around.

Izuru’s playing, on the other hand, is much more methodical. Each pick of the strings is intentional and without any trace of emotion. He plays less to create, and more to sound perfect- and it is perfect. Every movement is perfect. Every note is perfect. His playing is perfect and completely without fault. It sounds beautiful, eerie, and fake. He listens to the music and hears nothing but a mish-mash of artificial noise that’s meant to sound good but he can’t quite understand why . It makes something in his head ache and pulse, as if something was trying to break out into the real world, into Mioda’s cottage that is so messy that he can barely move without tripping over some miscellaneous trinket.

When the song is over (and he knows in his heart that it’s over), Izuru looks up to see Mioda and Komaeda looking at him, shell-shocked. Mioda has long-since stopped playing her guitar, and now she just stands with her eyes wide and confused.

“Kamukura-kun, that was beautiful!” Komaeda exclaims, clapping heavily. “I’ve never heard anything like it! Mioda-san, what did you think?”

At first, she says nothing- a first for her. But then, all of a sudden, the words come to her. “WHAT WAS THAT! Ibuki thinks it was very pretty, but very weird ! Izuru-chan needs to learn to play with feeling . Without feeling, music is nothing. And that was deeeefinitely nothing! That’s not what music is supposed to be! Ibuki demands that Ibuki and Izuru-chan have another jam sesh soon so she can teach him some reaaaal music.”

“Okay.” That’s all Izuru has to say.

“Um,” Komaeda hesitates to interrupt. “Sorry, but I just checked the time and I think it’s about time for Hanamura’s dinner. We should head to the restaurant.”

“Wahoo!” Mioda grins and bolts out of the cottage, seemingly unaffected by the odd exchange that had just occurred. The boys soon follow.

The restaurant is already buzzing when they arrive. Most people are already seated, but Hanamura is flying back and forth between the kitchen and the dining area. Upon seeing them, he stops and points directly at the two boys. “You there! Come here and help me set the table. Sonia-san and Koizumi-san are already in the kitchen getting some preparations ready. I’m an equal opportunity employer. Come get some of my delicious home-cooking, baby.” He winks heavily at the two of them, resulting in a unanimous shudder.

Still, the boys head to the kitchen to help him out. Sonia and Koizumi are already waiting inside just like he said they would be. Koizumi looks over the meals carefully, and Sonia is inspecting the ingredients in the pantry.

“So,” Sonia begins. “What would you like us to do, Hanamura-san?”

“Sonia-san, if you could please take this,” He hands her some cutlery and napkins. “And set the table, that would be much appreciated. 16 spots for 16 people, please! I made assigned seats and I’ve already had Nidai-kun push some tables together and set up the chairs. After Sonia-san is done with the cutlery, you three will take the dishes out.”

Sure enough, as soon as Sonia shouts back that she’s finished, Hanamura starts fervently piling plates into Komaeda, Koizumi, and Izuru’s arms and sends them to hand them out. While Komaeda and Izuru each hold several meals, Koizumi only holds two, one in each arm. Upon noticing Izuru’s inquiring stare, Koizumi sighs. “He said he wanted a ‘better view.’ Of what, I don’t want to know.”

While the other three start setting meals down in front of the assigned seats, Hanamura backs out of the kitchen with one unique meal- a delicious-looking salad. “Tanaka-kun, I’ve got your very special dish ready! Completely vegan, as promised.”

Tanaka grins as the chef sets his food down in front of him. “Hmmm, this is certainly adequate, mortal. I thank you for your kindness- but be warned! This gratefulness will not excuse you from my possible future wrath!”

“Um. Okay.”

Once everything is set down, the group is invited to dig in. It quickly becomes apparent that Hanamura’s talent isn’t for nothing. Izuru hasn’t had many meals that he can remember, but he’s still sure that this is one of the best he’ll ever have. Judging by the look on his classmates’ faces, they definitely agree. Everyone, even those he’d previously judged as more polite, are stuffing food in their faces like it’s the end of the world. They don’t even have time for conversation during the dinner that was meant to bond them together. People take seconds, and some, like Owari, even take thirds.

“This is delicious, Hanamura!” She exclaims, moaning at the taste. “Ugh, it’s so good .”

“Mmm, you keep making those sounds darling,” Hanamura smirks at her. “‘M glad ya like itmmph… Ssssorry, jaw is jusht… locking a bit.”  He rubs at his jaw with furrowed brows. Still, he shrugs it off. “But like I shaid, I’m glad you like it.”

“A-are you feeling alright, H-hanamura-san?” Tsumiki asks with heavy concern lacing her voice.

“Yesh, fine. D-don’t worry about me!” The chef grins, reaching back to rub his shoulders. “Pleashe jusht continue, I even have shome dessert whenever you’re rrready.” Upon being met with rounds of vocal excitement, Hanamura sends Nidai to take the cobbler he’d made out of the kitchen.

“This is soooo yummy, Teruteru-chan!” Mioda exclaims between bites. Other people at the table second her statement, each with a big smile and a mouthful of cobbler.

As they all digest their food, a conversation finally strikes up.

“So, Pekoyama, you said you’d pass the invitation on to Kuzuryuu,” Togami states matter-of-factly. “Where is he?”

“He said he’d prefer not to come. I’m not exactly sure where he is, but I’d assume he’s in his cabin eating something from the Rocketpunch Market.”

“Jeeeeeeez,” Koizumi groans. “He’s so rude! Hanamura made a meal for him and everything!” She says, gesturing to the empty seat next to Saionji.

Saionji herself grins. “I’m not complaining! That little dirtbag can stay faaar away from here, for all I care.”

Pekoyama frowns lightly at her empty plate. “I’m sure he has a reason. After all, he doesn’t seem all that trusting.”

“I guess,” Koizumi rolls her eyes. “But he could at least make an effort. The rest of us are!”

“T-true,” Hanamura says, rubbing at his eyes. “I m-mean, h-he could’ve at least told me so I didn’t m-make extra food that would just go to waste.” Rubbing his eyes soon turns into dropping his head in his hands, much to the concern of the others.

“Hanamura-san, are you sure you’re alright?!” Tsumiki exclaims, jumping out of her seat and rushing to his side. The others follow her lead, and soon the entire class is crowding around his spot at the head of the table.

“I… I… I can’t-” Hanamura starts coughing and his eyes start to bulge. “Help- can’t- breaaathe!” Before anyone can process what he’d just said, the chef slumps over into his plate, completely limp.

Screaming fills the restaurant as Tsumiki wrestles to pull Hanamura’s unconscious body up to feel his pulse.

A stomping noise comes from the stairs before Kuzuryuu comes into view, clearly panicked.. “Yo, what the fuck is going on in here?! I was just taking a walk and I heard screaming!”

“It’s- it’s Hanamura!” Souda screams. “SOMETHING IS WRONG!”

“ Everybody quiet. ” Izuru insists. “Let Tsumiki work.” His stern tone silences the entire room, besides Tsumiki’s muttering under her breath as she inspects Hanamura’s body and performs CPR. With each push on his chest and breath of air pushed into his mouth, the group becomes more and more somber.

After a few minutes of silence, Tsumiki stops her attempts, hunches over, and lets out a single gutwrenching sob. “He’s….”

Her shoulder shakes as her finger pulls away from where it had been holding his wrist. “He’s dead .”

The boy paces back and forth in the void, fists balled tightly in anger. “AGH! This is so unfair- that should be me ! I should be the one with all the talent! Everyone is fawning over him and for what? Just because he’s some dumb lab experiment gone wrong? Fuck that and fuck him!”

The girl nods solemnly as she struts over to him. She puts a gentle, calming hand on his shoulder. “Jeez, it really is unfair… He got all this. You’re the one who sacrificed everything. You you should have it all right now, not him. But don’t worry, handsome- everything will be fixed soon. We just have to keep everything entertaining before shit hits the fan. Then you can have everything you ever dreamed of. You’ll get back the future he stole from you.”

If he were in a more stable environment, if he weren’t so tired after just having woken up from a long, restless sleep, maybe he would’ve questioned her more. But all he cares about now is getting back to the real world, and replacing that monster that took everything from him. He tells himself that all he wants is to see his family and his best friend again, but truth be told, that’s not all. The other boy stole a gift that was meant for him. He wants that gift back.

And he wants the other boy to suffer for it.

Chapter Text

Ding dong, dong ding!

“A body has been discovered! After a certain amount of time, which you may use however you like, the class trial will begin!” Monokuma’s shrill voice blared out of the monitor’s speakers.

Tsumiki’s hands shakily withdraw from Hanamura’s lifeless wrist. Sobs rock her frail body as she hides her head in her hands, her noisy weeping creating the only sound in the room as everyone else looks on in disbelief.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Kuzuryuu exclaims. “I was gone for a few hours and you lot just jumped straight to murder?!”

“H-Hey man, you could’ve done it, too!” Souda says, hiding behind a plant in the corner.

“I wasn’t even here, dumbass!”

Saionji scoffs. “As if that matters! We all saw what just happened- nobody just walked up and killed him, idiot! He just collapsed!” She crosses her arms tightly over her chest, clearly trying to seem confident, but Izuru can see the tremors in her protective gesture.

“YUP, YUP, YUP!” Monokuma pops up from out of nowhere, beaming as always. “Spot on, little lady! Still, doesn’t mean he wasn’t murdered- you’ve still gotta investigate! In faaaact, I’ve got some useful evidence for you right here! It’s the Monokuma File!” The bear toddles around, handing out thin tablets to each student. Upon powering his on, Izuru sees informational text about the murder immediately fly onto the screen along with a picture of Hanamura.

Height: 133cm

Weight: 69kg

Chest: 88cm

Blood type: A

Birthday: September 2nd

The victim is Hanamura Teruteru. Estimated time of death is 8:30pm. The cause of death is asphyxiation and he has no external injuries.

“It’s awfully bare bones…” Pekoyama mutters.

“Well I can’t give all the secrets away, now can I? That’d be no fun!”

Koizumi glares at the bear from where she kneels, comforting Tsumiki. “It’s no fun anyway.”

Monokuma sighs deeply. “Jeeeez, no need to be such a buzzkill,” Then, under his breath. “You kids used to be such fun… Now you’re just boring .”

Izuru raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he elects to cross the room to examine the body near where Tsumiki is babbling nonsense through inconsolable tears.

The corpse lies splayed out on the hardwood flooring- the area is mostly cleared after everyone shot out of their chairs at the sight of Hanamura’s terror. Still, he makes sure not to disturb the fallen chairs or dirty plates as he walks around the table and kneels to the ground. Before he died, drool had been spilling from Hanamura’s mouth. Remnants are still dripping onto the floor beneath the corpse’s cheek. However, there don’t appear to be any traces of blood in his saliva. 

Hanamura’s unmoving eyes are shot wide open in panic, staring at Izuru as he feels around the boy’s neck for any sign of blockage- for a moment, he can’t help but think about the sexual comments a living Hanamura would’ve made at being touched this way. Regardless of the person this corpse used to be, his examination is fruitful and confirming. Just as he’d suspected, Izuru can’t find any signs that the asphyxiation was caused by choking. Whatever had suffocated Hanamura must’ve been internal.

“Tsumiki,” Izuru says as he rises from his kneeling position. “Can you perform an autopsy?”

“Are you serious?” Koizumi huffs. “She’s distraught . Leave the girl alone.”

“This is important and needs to be done.”

“What’s wrong with you? Just give her some time-”

“N-no,” Tsumiki sniffles. “I-I can do it. I w-want to-to-to help. I’m sorry for- for being a c-coward!” She bursts into tears once again, but this time does so as she crawls back over to Hanamura’s body and starts examining his orifices. Koizumi furrows her brow but backs off, moving to stand by the kitchen door.

Izuru looks around the room. He should talk to everyone about what they saw, but isn’t sure where to start. Luckily, the decision is easily made for him as Komaeda waves him over.

“Way to take charge, Kamukura-kun!” The boy smiles wide. Even Izuru can see that it’s not a particularly appropriate reaction to the current situation. “Although it’s not under the best circumstances, I have to admit I’m a bit excited to see all the ultimates working together like this! I wonder what will come of it…” He glances around with a knowing glint in his eye, his gaze lingering for a moment too long on someone Izuru has been keeping his eye on as well.

“Okay. Anyway. Can you give me your account of the dinner?” Izuru asks flatly. He doesn’t have time for small talk.

“Oh! Well, it was mostly pretty normal. At least, I assumed so. I don’t eat with others very often. But this was just as pleasant as I’d imagined- up until the death, of course. It’s a shame, really! Hanamura-kun was… crass at times, but still courteous when it counted. He was very accommodating with my meal.”

“Accommodating?”

“Yes, of my dietary restrictions. I have a few but the main one is that I’m on a low microbial diet. Hanamura-kun was very understanding and made some really delicious baked tofu kabobs for me. Anyway, the dinner was completely normal until Hanamura-kun collapsed!” Komaeda frowns lightly, glancing over at the body. “It was a real shock… I didn’t expect anything to happen so soon.”

But he did expect something to happen.

“So Tanaka wasn’t the only one with a different meal?”

“Oh, definitely not,” Komaeda shakes his head. “If I remember correctly, Hanamura mentioned to me earlier that pretty much everyone had their own individual dish. The only ones who got the same thing were you, Togami, Owari, and Hanamura himself.”

“Do you know why?” Izuru asks. Given his hypothesis on the method of death, what exactly everyone could or couldn’t eat could be important.

“Everyone else has some sort of dietary restriction, like mine! Hmm, off the top of my head…” Komaeda taps his chin in thought. “Pekoyama-san is a vegetarian, Mioda-san and Saionji-san are allergic to caffeine and nuts respectively, Nidai-kun can’t eat red meat, and Kuzuryuu-kun is lactose intolerant, although he obviously wasn’t there. I can’t quite remember the others, sorry!”

It’s creepy enough that he knew those, although certainly useful. “Mm, good to know,” Izuru mumbles. “I should go talk to the others.”

“Oh, I’ll come with you!”

Just like when they first arrived on the island, Izuru and Komaeda begin their investigation together- speaking to the same person, as well.

Sonia looks over the entire dining room from her spot in the corner. She stands regally, as if about to give an address to them, her citizens. Every so often, her eyes flit back to her seat during the dinner– the chair right next to Hanamura. She perks up slightly when she sees the two approaching figures, but a weight still seems to press down on her stance.

“Hello, you two. Oh my, this is just so awful, isn’t it?” Her sigh, though light and airy, betrays her brave face. Past the royal facade, Izuru can see fear in her eyes and a slight quiver of her hands.

Komaeda’s arm flinches as if to rest a hand on her shoulder before he thinks better of it. Instead, he just frowns in sympathy. “Yes, it was horrible just to see from down the table. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be right next to Hanamura-kun as he collapsed…”

“Can you tell us your account of the evening?”

Izuru sees Komaeda shoot him a look at his bluntness, but Izuru can’t see a problem with it. It’s the point of the conversation, after all. They know that, and so does she.

Sure enough, Sonia straightens up and faces him head on with the face of someone fulfilling a sworn duty. “Yes, of course! I don’t know how much help I can be, but… I will certainly try! When I arrived at dinner, I located my nameplate next to Hanamura-san and sat down right away while he was in the kitchen. Komaeda-san delivered my and Hanamura-san’s plates respectively.”

Komaeda nods. “Each plate had its own name card so I knew who to give it to. Sonia-san had the chicken pot pie, correct?”

“Yes, indeed. I offered to have the curry, same as Hanamura-san and the others with no dietary restrictions, but requested that he cook it mild. I don’t care for spicy food. Hanamura-san insisted that he wouldn’t change the recipe, though, and elected to make one of my favorite dishes. As a chef, he cares very much about the quality of his food! I’m so very impressed that he was able to make so many unique dishes all on his own.”

“That’s the strength of an Ultimate for you,” Komaeda grins and claps his hands. “Truly incredible! What a shame he had to die.”

Sonia startles a bit at his unforgiving wording before continuing. “Um… yes, yes it is. Anyway, the dinner was mostly normal, until Hanamura-san started sweating and acting strange, as you all saw. Everything that follows… I do not think I have any unique insight. I am sorry.”

“No, this was useful,” Izuru states, wasting no time in pulling Komaeda by the arm to another location. “Thank you.”

As Izuru pulls him across the room toward the kitchen, Komaeda stutters out a protest, “Ah, Kamukura-kun! Shouldn’t we investigate the dining room some more?”

“No. We have seen all that we needed to see there,” He says as he pushes the door open. “The biggest clue will be found here, where the food was cooked.”

“That makes sense– he was clearly poisoned, right?”

“Obviously.”

The door swings open to reveal Kuzuryuu and Pekoyama, who instantly shoot their gaze to the intruding pair. Kuzuryuu huffs and puts a hand to his face while Pekoyama swiftly sweeps past them and into the dining room.

“Oh,” Komaeda laughs awkwardly. “We are, uh… so sorry to interrupt!”

Kuzuryuu shoots them each a heated glare in turn, his ireful gaze resting on Izuru a second longer than his companion. “Nothing to interrupt, dumbass. She was just catchin’ me up on the fuckin’ mess you all made here. Seriously, I can’t leave you alone for five goddamn minutes?”

“Well this was bound to happen eventually,” Komaeda says with a bit too much cheer and dismissal. As the two strike up a conversation, Izuru moves toward the cabinets and starts shuffling through the stock. “Look at the bright side! Maybe it’s good that you weren’t here to see it.”

“...The fuck are you talking about? Do you hear yourself right now?” He exclaims with wide eyes.

“Where were you today anyway, Kuzuryuu-kun?” Komaeda swiftly moves on from the short boy’s confusion and thinly-veiled horror.

“I-” Kuzuryuu pauses for a moment, looking to Izuru, floundering for a lifeline. He receives nothing more than a dismissive shrug. “I was in my cabin. All day. It’s all I’ve been fuckin’ doing and it’s boring as shit.”

“Well, you’re always welcome to join us, you know? Hanamura-kun even invited you to dinner, out of the kindness of his heart!”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’d rather be bored than deal with you dipshits. ‘Sides, at least it gives me some solid information on the murder, y’know? I was sittin’ by the window in my room, so I saw everybody who came in and out of the hotel that day.”

That piques Izuru’s interest. As much as it can be piqued, anyway, already having a sneaking suspicion concerning the culprit in this case. “Oh?”

“Yep. But people were mostly out and about on the island, so the only people I saw were Hanamura and Nidai, bringing food and shit from the supermarket to the kitchen. Rules out some people, huh? It means everyone else couldn’t have been sneaking shit in.” He smirks proudly. Even despite his short stature, Izuru can feel without a doubt that Kuzuryuu is looking down upon them. He wonders if Kuzuryuu realizes how silly he seems, with his “high horse” that honestly looks more like a Shetland pony.

Izuru tunes out Komaeda’s incessant thanks for Kuzuryuu’s miniscule contribution to the investigation in favor of opening the final drawer in the kitchen, a corner cabinet meant for holding spices. He unfolds the angular door to find it well-stocked with anything an Ultimate Cook could need, from common salt to imported saffron. Hanamura had taken full advantage of the resources allotted to him– Izuru’s curry had been utterly delicious, even for such a simple dish. Izuru had found the perverted young man to be rather distasteful, but he had to admit: Hanamura was good at what he did. He was not the type to make silly mistakes. He was also not the type to use food coloring, at least not in any of the meals served that night, which is what made the bottle of brown food coloring at the forefront of the spice cabinet so strange.

Izuru picks up the bottle, swishing it about and watching the liquid slosh at the sides like waves against a dam. He is, for whatever reason, familiar with food coloring and its uses. The liquid is often darker than the desired color outcome, due to its mixing with light baking ingredients. This bottle, on the other hand, holds an amber liquid. Still brown, but not nearly as dark as food coloring should be.

“Komaeda,” He calls to the boy from across the room. “Check the cabinet under the sink and tell me what you find.”

“On it, Kamukura-kun!” He hears Komaeda open the cabinet and begin picking up and putting aside bottles. “Hmmm… drain cleaner, window cleaner, bleach, dish soap, hand soap, rat poison–”

“Stop,” Izuru turns on his heel and crosses the room to the sink in one smooth motion, kneeling close next to Komaeda, whose breathing turns heavy. He takes the bottle from his companion’s hands and inspects the label. “Just as I thought.”

“What is it, Kamukura-kun?” Komaeda asks as Izuru stands and opens the bottle to peer inside at the dark brown liquid within.

“This is Strychnine, a common pesticide. Symptoms of Strychnine poisoning include muscle spasms, nausea, overheating, muscle pain/weakness, possible seizures, and asphyxiation. I saw it in the supermarket yesterday. I am sure that if we went to the market now, we would see a missing space where this bottle once was.”

Komaeda’s eyes sparkle and a grin spreads across his face. “Wow! You figured that out so fast! You’re incredible , Kamukura-kun! Hahahaha!”

“The fuck…?” Kuzuryuu mutters under his breath, barely audible beneath Komaeda’s elated giggles. “Is that the murder weapon?”

Right on cue, the monitor above them chimes and a video of Monokuma holding a tropical cocktail flickers onto the screen.

“Alrighty guys, it’s finally time! That’s right. It’s time for the long-awaited class trial! Please make your way to Monokuma Rock, stat! I’ll see you there, puhuhuhu…”

As the screen shutters off, Izuru can hear sounds of protest and alarm from the other room.

“Guess we should go, huh?” Komaeda pouts. “I feel like we barely got any time to look around.”

Kuzuryuu scoffs. “Heh, no fuckin’ way I’m going to that. This is bullshit.”

“I believe it is mandatory.” Izuru raises an eyebrow down at him. “You may not like the punishment for not attending.”

“Who gives a shit? If Monokuma wants to give me detention or some shit, he can go right ahead. I just won’t go to that either.”

“Kuzuryuu-kun,” Komaeda says hesitantly, hand raised just enough to get the yakuza’s attention. “I think what Kamukura-kun means is… you could be executed. By Monokuma.”

“Executed?”

Komaeda rocks on his heels. “Well, it’s what’s meant to happen to the culprit, right? And that’s a punishment for breaking the rules. Someone is already dead, so we know the stakes. Monokuma doesn’t seem like the type to hesitate on… dealing out punishment.”

Kuzuryuu pales almost imperceptibly, but Izuru can see him blanch at the thought of execution, and likely at the reminder of the corpse in the other room. “W-whatever. I’m calling his bluff.”

“I do not think that’s wise.”

“Yeah, I think we’ve gone over the fact that I don’t give a flying fuck what you say, asshole.”

“Hey-” Komaeda begins to protest at the rude interaction before him, before being interrupted by the kitchen door opening.

Pekoyama peeks around the corner. “Well? Are you three coming?”

Komaeda, Kamukura, and Pekoyama share a pointed look at Kuzuryuu, who appears too busy glaring at his shoes to return the eye contact. After a short pause, he sighs so deeply that his entire small stature seems to deflate like an exasperated balloon. “...Let’s just get this shit over with.”

The night sky is gentle and cool above the fifteen students as they walk to the main island. Cold moonlight spills and reflects off the shiny cobblestones that make up the beachside path. Centuries ago, these rocks were jagged and untamable. Now, the force of human industry has polished them to a domesticated, level finish. Still, Izuru thinks, there are rocks just as smooth under the sea, beaten and eroded by the ocean and its denizens until round and glossy. It is the story of human history. Mankind fights tooth and nail to achieve what comes so easily to nature. It all stems from envy for what nature creates. Why should the hypothetical God be able to create smooth stones, but man cannot? What about electricity, medicine. beauty?

What about death?

The philosophy of life rattles about in Izuru’s brain, amidst the libraries’ worth of knowledge and the echoing emptiness of memory. It is disgusting, it is boring, and it is reflected in the people around him, in their empty eyes. It strikes him now that one of these children is walking to their death.

“Um, K-Kamukura-kun?” Tsumiki sidles up next to him, fidgeting with her bandaged hands. “M-may I speak to you? Please?”

“You may.”

“W-well, er, I-I did an autopsy of Hanamura-san’s c-c-corpse, just like y-you asked. H-he definitely asphyxiated, but there was nothing blocking his airway, so he didn’t choke on food or anything. He was also overheating and his body was quite stiff. Before he died, I noticed he was experiencing lockjaw, pain, weakness, and some muscle spasms! I h-hope that helps!”

“Tsumiki,” Izuru stops, letting the crowd move on past them. He looks her straight in the watery eyes, even as her gaze darts around. “Thank you. This was very helpful.”

“O-oh!” She jumps, like a deer startled by a hiker stepping on a branch. “T-thank you, Kamukura-san! You– y-you’re so nice!”

Squealing, Tsumiki runs forward toward the large rock formation shaped like Monokuma’s head, where their classmates are already filing into an elevator at the base of the formation. Izuru observes them all making space for each other in the tight space, eyes shifty and suspicious. He is the last to step into the freight elevator, left with a space at the front next to Nanami.

Her sleepy eyes bore into him as he stands stock still, staring at the doors, waiting for the trial to begin.

“Are you ready?” She whispers, gentle and delicate. Fragile.

He doesn’t deign her with a response. Not to show any disrespect, but because his mind is suddenly blank and any words that escaped him now would be clumsy, forceful, and transparent. The porcelain of her words remains unshattered between them.

Izuru does respect her. That is precisely what scares him, a feeling secret even to him, buried deep in his subconscious.

MONOKUMA FILE: 

Height: 133cm

Weight: 69kg

Chest: 88cm

Blood type: A

Birthday: September 2nd

The victim is Hanamura Teruteru. Estimated time of death is around 8:30pm. The cause of death is asphyxiation and he has no external injuries.

DINNER: Hanamura called everyone together to have dinner that evening at 6:30pm. He prepared all the food himself and took it out to the table with the assistance of Komaeda, Koizumi, and Kamukura. Komaeda was the one to deliver Hanamura’s plate.

SPECIAL REQUESTS: Several students had special requests about their meals, which meant that every meal went to a specific person. For example, Tanaka is vegan, Pekoyama is vegetarian, Komaeda is on a low microbial diet, Mioda and Saionji are allergic to caffeine and nuts respectively, Nidai can't eat red meat, and Kuzuryuu (although he didn't attend) is lactose intolerant, among others. The only people with no restrictions were Izuru, Owari, and Hanamura himself.

STRYCHNINE: A bottle of rat poison from the supermarket was found beneath the sink in the kitchen. Symptoms of strychnine poisoning can include muscle spasms, lockjaw, nausea, overheating, muscle pain/weakness, possible seizures, and asphyxiation.

TSUMIKI’S AUTOPSY: Before his death, Hanamura had been experiencing lockjaw, muscle spasms, a high temperature, faintness, muscle pain, and choking. He had no obstruction in his airway.

ASSIGNED SEATING: Everyone had their own assigned seat at the dinner, including Kuzuryuu who did not attend. Not only that, but each dish was assigned to a specific person as well.

BROWN FOOD COLORING: The meals Hanamura made didn't require any food coloring, but a vial of it was found at the front of the cabinet, in front of everything else. The liquid inside was also oddly light.

KUZURYUU'S ACCOUNT: Kuzuryuu spent the day in his room, but had a window view of the hotel. He didn't see anyone looking suspicious or sneaking anything in, except Hanamura who had been bringing bags of ingredients from the supermarket earlier in the day with the assistance of Nidai.