Archive of Our Own

A diary. I, Kyouko Kirigiri, have a diary.

I think it would only be more ridiculous if they tell you I slipped in the shower, hit my head and died. And maybe that I pursued Hagakure because bad luck wanted him to be the only one able to see my ghost.

Pffft. What a foolish thought, isn’t it?

Well, what happened to me now isn’t that much better.

Let's get started.

To tell the truth a single piece of information, given enough context, can make your brain explode. The information is as follows: I’m twenty-seven years old.

I hear the fireworks of your neurotransmitters from here. I have specified that I have to contextualize, let me do it.

I’m twenty-seven years old and right now I’m in my room at Kibougamine, a super famous and super renowned academy. For high school kids.

I see the one that thinks he’s smart in the back of the room: “Bla bla bla, Kyouko. Who are you trying to fuck with? Everybody knows that you’re the vice principal of the new Kibougamine.”

That’s true, I am. After the experience with death during the Final Killing Game, I and the other survivors of the 78th class rolled up our sleeves and recreated the school that gave us so much pain and caused us so much mourning. With Naegi in charge as my father had been, Asahina as a teacher of physical education, Fukawa of literature, Togami of applied insensitivity and Hagakure relegated to being a gardener who hides in the tool’s shack to smoke.

So, what am I talking about?

This isn’t our Kibougamine, this is the original Kibougamine. Makoto Naegi isn’t sleeping in the headmaster's bedroom right now, Jin Kirigiri is.

There. Now you have the right expression.

How was this possible, you ask? The answer is simple: I don't have the slightest idea.

I know the following things.

A few hours ago I was walking through the sports fields at the back of the school. It was the time of school hours when the bubbly Aoi Asahina has to keep a herd of demon-possessed kids at bay. I supervised to make sure everything was done in an appropriate manner, as the good perfectionist I am.

Out of the blue I saw a baseball thrown in my way. A microscopic part of me was afraid. It was really fast, taking it between the eyes wouldn’t have been pleasant.

And speaking of eyes, I closed them waiting for the impact. I wouldn't have had time to move away, by now.

A moment of something I can't define.

When I reopened them, after a few seconds in which nothing had happened...

The first thing I noticed was that the baseball had evaporated. Puff. Gone.

The second thing I noticed was that… how can I say… I wasn't in tune with my body. I felt… small.

I felt small because I was.

I touched my arms, elbows, knees, belly, thighs and head.

That body… it wasn't mine. I didn’t perceive it as such.

Honestly restless, it was only at that moment that I began to realize the environment around me. It was no longer the area near the diamond of our academy.

It was always a school, just... different. Unknown faces, buildings that at first didn't tell me anything, a strange atmosphere.

And then the coup de grace.

In the distance there was the unmistakable round shape of Hifumi Yamada, walking leisurely in the company of Celestia Ludenberg.

Why not? It seems there’s a special offer on zombies today. Because three meters behind them I saw the figure of Mondo Oowada chasing them, pompadour fluttering in the wind and an apparent desire to let his hands fly.

At that point, and I'm ashamed to admit it but I just can't hide it from myself at least, I was terrified. Something impossible was slamming into my face a reality that hadn't existed for a long time.

My panicked mind found it appropriate to check why I felt physically out of place. So, without wasting a single second, I looked around for something I could see myself in.

The nearest window was all I needed.

What I saw...

I still have a moment of weakness when remembering it.

It was me, but it wasn't. What I mean is: that was my face when I was sixteen.

For a moment, just a moment, I had the urge to scream, an impulse I repressed with some effort.

That must have been some strange kind of hallucination, there was no other plausible explanation.

I hadn't gone back eleven years. I hadn't done it. It wasn't true.

Even assuming Maizono's nonsense about ESP powers, I'm not an esper. If just, maybe, God forbid it, Hagakure can be one and certainly not me. I don't know how to make objects float with my mind, I don't shoot fire from my hands and I don't have adamantium claws under my skin. All things that would have been very useful in getting rid of Enoshima in the past.

Yet my detective soul activated itself and summed up the clues. I had the face of the sixteen year-old me, I felt like a fish out of water, in the unknown place where I found myself in there were people who had long since died.

Besides, on a more in-depth analysis, the environment wasn’t foreign to me. It took me a while but I recognized the clearing just outside the entrance of the old Kibougamine, a short distance from the fountain that served as a divider between the part dedicated to the main course and that for the reserve course.

The first answer I gave myself was: someone poured LSD into my coffee and now I'm having firsthand experience of a so-called trip. Hope it wasn't you, Makoto-kun, because otherwise I’ll make you pay as soon as I get out of it.

But the second, unexpected answer was: everything I see, hear, smell, touch is real. In a way I can't explain, presumably related to the baseball trying to poke my eye out, I've been kicked into the past. And, if this crazy hypothesis is true, it makes me think that an exchange has taken place (if I entered her, where can she have ended up but in me?) and the sixteen year-old myself took it full in the face. Sorry Kyouko, I didn't mean to.

So, let's get it right.

I have to be honest, I've never felt under the influence of any hallucinogenic substance. Not even for a moment. Yes, I was upset but still lucid, present, ready. I know the other consequences of lysergic acid and none of them had manifested in me. Strike one for the first theory.

But the above points remain valid. I'm not an X-Woman, although I admit it wouldn't be bad to fly or command the elements. Or magnetism, because I’ve always liked the charm of Erik Lensherr.

Nerdy notes aside.

I’m still not paranormal. Moreover because, obviously, I don't believe in the paranormal. It’s all nonsense.

Or maybe it’s not and I’m the living proof of that.

Damn, I've never been so confused and uncertain in my life. It's a really, really bad feeling.

Oh right. I didn't specify it because it seemed obvious to me, but I made sure this was really the first Kibougamine. I got only confirmations.

My father lit up with joy when I timidly put my head inside his office, after requesting an informal interview (during which I couldn’t say a word, too nervous to stand there chit-chatting about nothing). The perks of being the daughter of the boss.

I tried, in a veiled way, to talk to the other (future?) survivors of our Killing Game about the Future Foundation and the Remnants. My words fell on deaf ears, they didn’t understand what I was referring to. In the case of Hagakure it was a normal conversation, since he only knows how to stay there and watch the other person talk with the stupidest face ever. My professional judgment and their appearance told me they weren't lying.

Enoshima laughed hard enough for the whole school to hear when I tried to insinuate her role as the mastermind. In retrospect, perhaps the idea of accusing her like that (albeit by just throwing half sentences) wasn't exactly one of my best. But the alleged hindsight allowed me to catch a serial killer twinkle in her eyes, which confirmed a lot of things to me. That and the suspicious movement of her sister's hand towards her skirt, where as far as I know she can hold a scimitar bigger than me.

In short, it's a big mess. The worst thing, and luckily I don't have to say that often, is that I really don't know which way to go.

Okay, Kyouko. You’re tired, stressed and a headache is coming your way.

It's late. Go to bed and begin to see if this bizarre state of affairs persists tomorrow.

Assuming I remember in which closet I kept my night clothes. Hey, I have the right to sleep in an extra large shirt and shorts.

Three days have passed. I wanted to be sure beyond any reasonable doubt.

I'm still officially sixteen.

Which trip lasts so long?

I'm afraid I have to consider what surrounds me my new reality, at least for the moment.

The schizophrenic, totally out of its mind second theory seems to be the right one. Stupid Occam's Razor, you’re not valid this time huh?

Come on, be honest.

I... I'm happy to be able to relive these days, if this is really the case.

In fact, despite the generous efforts of the Foundation, my fellow survivors and I have never fully recovered the memories of our time at school.

We remember the most important things. The Killing Game of the student council, the Parade and a good part of all that mess. In addition to a fair chunk of the year the 78th lived walled up inside the old building, a hiding place that we thought was safe and that had already been infected by the Ultimate Despair.

I'll come back to those two, diary. Don’t fear.

But the happy days were missing. I didn’t remember what the class was like as a whole, how we interacted with each other, what was the general atmosphere in the classroom. Little things like that.

It’s giving me an unexpected pleasure to rediscover them slowly, experiencing them on my skin a second time as if it were the first.

To see Togami being haughty, but all in all more malleable than I know him to be.

To see Ludenberg being less of a viper and less ashamed of her real name.

To see Fukawa drooling less over her white knight, less lost in her dream world and a little less critical of herself.

To see Oowada with a less ready fist and a bit longer fuse.

Some are identical to how I've always seen them behave. Especially Oogami, Asahina, Hagakure and Naegi.

Ah. Naegi.

I’ll allow myself a pseudo-sentimental parenthesis: I miss him. I mean, I deal with him every day. But it's not the twenty-seven year-old Makoto-kun, it's the sixteen year-old Naegi-kun. To whom I clearly can't go tell about my... intimate relationship with his adult counterpart.

Stop teasing me! You know that, from this point of view, there are terrifying parallels between me and our beloved Scion, Your Lordship Byakuya Togami. I struggle to be frank when the subject concerns me directly.

I was able to be frank during the Final Killing Game, right before the fourth timeout. I knew I was going to die and I wanted to throw it all out.

All but the fact that I… I… he…

Ssssssh. I know it and that's enough.

And in any case I mustn’t digress. There are more pressing matters.

I think I have to say that I’m effectively stuck in the past.

This creates obvious problems for me, of course. But at the same time it gives me a huge chance because I can change history.

We’re in the second half of the first year. I think I’m in time.

I know.

I know all too well what lies behind Enoshima's pink locks and irritating laughter.

I can stop the end of the world in the bud.

I can avert the Tragedy.

I can annihilate the Ultimate Despair.

I carry a wealth of knowledge and invaluable information in this head of mine.

But I must act with caution. Because I feel that if I did as I usually do and snoop around, one of these days Mukuro Ikusaba would knock on my door. And it wouldn't be a courtesy visit.

Imagine my father's face if they were to go and tell him that they found my body hanging upside down in my room, quartered like a calf and with my intestines squashed against the window (in the worst case used as a rope to go downstairs... kami, Machete's vision left permanent scars in my brain).

No, thank you very much.

In this regard, there’s a thought that haunts me. A thought that I don't like, but that despite my commitment I just can't get rid of.

Because a part of me, the pragmatic and unscrupulous part of me, suggests a quick and effective solution.

Kill Junko Enoshima.

Makes sense, doesn't it? I get a blade, I approach her with an excuse and stab her in the neck.

Simple, fast and saves the lives of I don't know how many millions of people. Her sect, deprived of the brain and heart all together, would collapse like a deflated balloon. And yes, I know for a fact that Ultimate Despair would suffer a terrible blow if its leader passes away. See only the voice I commit suicide because Lady Junko no longer brightens my days.

So why am I not there trying to create a new air duct in her throat? Well, there are some obstacles.

Firstly, the feasibility. Because you mustn't forget that our Ultimate Model usually walks around in the company of her protective twin, who wouldn’t hesitate even half a second to break my wrist if only I got too close to the target. And then finish me off in peace in some dark corner of the academy. Go back to the part of the intestines on the window.

Secondly, the eventual after. Imagine that, for some incredible miracle, I managed to kill her without suffering Ikusaba’s vengeance. There would be other consequences. Dad would organize an investigation, because he wouldn’t let a murder go unpunished. It’d be the right thing to do, mind you. And he would end up calling me to investigate, putting me in the awkward position of having to create a culprit. Or having to confess, which in the long run the guilt would lead me to do. Life in prison is just a little better than being slaughtered, and that’s without considering a very possible death sentence.

Thirdly and most importantly, the fact that I refuse to resort to such barbaric means however optimal they may be. I’m not a killer, my name isn’t Enoshima. If there’s a way to resolve the situation without bloodshed, especially on my part, that’ll be the first path I’ll take.

I just have no idea what it is.

I feel stranded, like a whale that ends up beaching.

I'll have to come up with something. And fast.

I thought about it and I found something.

Except it's based on simple intuition and hope that someone up there is on my side. I hate feeling this way.

Come on Kyouko, it's probably your best option.

Do it and come what may.

Okay, I did it.

I talked to Naegi-kun and told him everything.

Today, at the end of the lessons, I asked him if he would like to go for a walk, me and him, all alone. His adorable face became instantly red as a tomato. I took him to an uncrowded area near the baseball field. I've been here for almost a week now and that specific place still creates unease and nostalgia for me.

Why him, you may wonder. Why I wanted to speak with him and not with my father, for example. Simple: I knew... I hoped he would believe me.

A person who doesn’t want Junko Enoshima dead at the conclusion of the Killing Game can do everything, even to not have a classmate who claims to come from the future committed.

Let's see if I remember the dialogue.

“So Kirigiri-san, is there something you wanted to tell me about?”

“Uh? What makes you think so?”

“You have the face of someone who feels the urgent need to let off steam.”

“If only you knew how true it is…”

“Huh? Everything okay? Is there something that worries you?”

“Naegi-kun, do you trust me?”

“Of course, Kirigiri-san. Of course I trust you!”

“Even if I had to tell you something incredible and out of all logic?”

“That face... you're scaring me…”

“You’re right to be scared, because what I'm about to reveal may prompt you to call the nurses and have me put in a straitjacket.”

“The hell are you talking about?”

Dramatic pause. A girl must have as much fun as she can. I was deciding on the approach strategy.

In the end I opted to be semi-romantic: “I miss hearing you say Kyouko-san when you talk to me…”

“I-I never did! And... and then... I’d never allow myself to... be this direct... without your permission…”

“There was, or rather there will be, a time in which you had the confidence. Or you will have it. Crap, this whole situation messes up my verbal tenses.”

“Kirigiri-san, I don't understand what you’re trying to tell me…”

I should have just said it, walking around it was useless: “I’m from the year 2021.”

A moment of pause. His pupils dilated.

“SORRY, WHAT? But 2021 is in... eleven years…”

“I don’t talk about a straitjacket without reason, you know.”

“Wait wait wait wait wait wait! Did you just tell me... that you come from the future?”

“Nice to meet you.” I exclaimed, extending my hand in his direction in a formal act of introduction “I'm Kyouko Kirigiri, vice principal of the new Kibougamine.”

Hearing this he almost fainted. I grabbed him at the last second.

After a couple of glasses of water and many calls to stay awake, I was finally able to resume: “Is it better now, Naegi-kun?”

“Not really... what you told me…”

“Sounds impossible, right?”

“More than impossible.”

“You don’t believe me. Very well, thanks for the time you have dedicated to me. Forget what I told you and have a good day.”

“Stop! Don't go away!”

“Why should I stay? You have recovered and you don't need to have a crazy woman around.”

“You... you aren't crazy!”

For a tenth of a second I froze, stunned.

That damned fool believed me, I could see it in his eyes.

He has to be thankful that I'm not a stalker. Or Enoshima. Between the two, the stalker is better.

“E-Explain, please. I'm curious.”

Yes, I confirm it. He believed me, or at least he didn't think I was out of my mind. And at the same time he was scared beyond belief. Could I blame him for that?

But he was giving me the benefit of the doubt before calling the mental health home. I could as well take advantage of it: “Naegi-kun, do you realize that now I can come up with whatever and you don't have the slightest way to confirm or deny my words? I could tell you that I ended up in the past because Gojira crushed me under his big foot, just to bring out the first stupid thing that went through my head.”

I couldn't stop myself from pointing this out to him. He had to be totally aware of what he was going through.

And he...

Kami, that smile. The smile of the Ultimate Hope. It was already there.

I struggled to keep myself together, I seriously risked melting into a puddle.

“I know you enough to be sure you wouldn't lie about that, Kirigiri-san. If you say you came from the future because the aliens threw you here, I hope not the same aliens who would have stolen Hagakure-kun's sandwich, I believe you. Now, please, tell me.”

And so I sat there and told him pretty much everything.

The Student Council Killing Game, the Parade, the Tragedy, our Killing Game, the Future Foundation, the 77th Killing Game, the Final Killing Game, the new Kibougamine.

Everything I remember, in the best way I could relate it. Everything but the personal things between me and his twenty-seven year-old version, which were superfluous… and private.

Of course, he risked having a seizure at least nine or ten times.

When he managed to open his mouth, he expressed a mixture of horror and surprise that was difficult to describe: “So... so... at the end of all... all this…”

“Of the current 78th class me, you, Togami, Asahina, Hagakure and Fukawa are the six survivors. Your sister, who like my grandfather was taken hostage by the Ultimate Despair, is alive and well. Unfortunately we have lost track of your parents and we don’t know their fate. More generally, the world is just beginning to heal from the anarchy and destruction wreaked by that crazy bunch. This is my story until the fateful day when I found myself here, not knowing how it happened.”

It took him a few more minutes to recover mental and emotional stability, and above all his breath, and say something a little more articulate: “Wow, these are a series of heavy blows to digest…”

“I’m perfectly aware of this and I apologize very much for having dumped them all on you at the same time. But a horror story needs to be told from start to finish, right? After all, in installments it’d probably have been worse.”

A few moments of silence.

“Kirigiri-san, but… why did you come to tell me about this time travel of yours? For what purpose?”

I sighed before answering him: "Because, if it were possible, I’d like your help.”

“For what?”

“I intend to stop Enoshima before she can have her way with the reserve course, with the 77th and… with us. I should be in time.”

“And what can I do? I don't know how to shoot, I don't know how to develop action plans, I’m not a mountain of muscles.” The beaten puppy look with which he said that. Isn’t he a tender naive?

“Maybe not. Indeed, certainly not. You can't do all those things. But you have a very important feature. No, better. Your important features are two.”

“And... and what would they be?”

“You're lucky. And hopeful. Both are really very useful things when you have to fight Junko Enoshima. For example, I neglected to tell you that during the Killing Game we participated in… we five sentenced you to death. Well…”

Hands on my shoulders. Trembling voice: "Y-You... had me s-s-sentenced... to death?”

“It was all my fault, I take full responsibility for it.” It hurt to admit it out loud, even after all that time. “Anyway, I was saying you survived because of your luck. And that luck then allowed your hope to defeat her once and for all. This is why I need you by my side, if you‘re kind enough to be of help.”

“You... you... you’re asking me a lot, you know that?”

Only there, faced with his hesitation, I did fully realize that yes, I was really asking him a lot.

The Naegi I know would have answered in the affirmative with his eyes closed. He’s a man tempered by experience and awareness of what it means to stand up against despair as the last bastion of humanity, or something equally high-sounding.

The Naegi in front of me, on the other hand, was little more than a child. Who, if left in a position to do so, would then blossom into the splendid beacon of hope I’m used to. But at present he’s nothing more than the first stage of that person. As well as being understandably stunned by my whole speech.

I couldn’t put such a heavy burden on him with a light heart.

I nodded my head, also feeling a little guilty. Then I added: “You’re right, Naegi-kun. You’re absolutely right. I'm being selfish, without considering how you might have felt after my revelation.”

“Kirigiri-san…”

“Sssh, let me finish. Can I be a bit more selfish and ask you to accept? True, my request is demanding. Very demanding. But we’re talking about the end of the world here. My fellow survivors and I have seen and experienced hell on earth. Oowada was turned into butter, Maizono was stabbed in your shower, Oogami killed herself. The members of the 77th tore themselves apart, albeit only in a simulation. We've lost the entire Foundation leadership, some of the most skilled and most kindhearted people I've ever met, in an absurd way. I was nearly dead for half an hour and still have purple scars on my face. And this is only the part that concerns us closely, not mentioning what happened outside while we were imprisoned in voluntary exile. You understand that it’s not a small matter, you aren’t stupid. I know I’m asking a lot, but…”

"Please, stop. That's enough!”

Uh?

“Kirigiri-san, you can't unload shocking information like this on me and expect it to have no effect!”

“I'm not saying that, I'm saying…”

“Please, don't make me refuse.”

I stopped and cursed myself.

Calm down, idiot. Were you going to overload him until he goes BOOM? He was right, I couldn't expect him to accept everything with a smile on his face.

At that moment the title of Ultimate Detective belonged to someone else, certainly not me. Because I surely didn't deserve it.

“So... you won't help me…” I said in the smallest voice I’ve ever used in my life.

“I didn’t say that.”

“...I’m sorry?”

“You claim to come from the future. You have envisioned doomsday scenarios, death and devastation, Kibougamine practically self-destructing. As much as I'd like to do otherwise, I just can't shrug all of this off as if nothing had happened. I need… I need time to think about it. Give me two or three days, then I'll give you my answer.”

It seemed more than a fair request to me. Considering the load I placed on his shoulders, indeed, I just had to thank that he hadn't left me in the lurch without even looking me in the face.

“C-Certainly. Take your time, I'll wait for you.”

“Thanks. Now sorry, I have to go.”

And he left me there. He clearly wanted to get away as fast as possible.

Congratulations, Kyouko Kirigiri. You've made the biggest mess of your twenty-seven years.

I hope he’ll come around.

But that's not even the worst part.

For the duration of this conversation, in fact, I suppressed the overwhelming desire I had to squeeze those cheeks of his.

Brrrr. Pedophilia, take me away.

Today, the eighth day of my stay in 2010, something… disturbing happened.

Not disturbing in itself, disturbing because it gave me something to think about.

I was sitting quietly in my place in the classroom. It was break time and even the pupils of Kibougamine aren’t different from a handful of rowdy teenagers. So there was noise, paper balls flying and whatnot.

My attention, however, was captured by a conversation conducted in a rather low voice. A conversation between Fujisaki and Fukawa.

He (who, in the common awareness of the 78th, is still a she) approached her desk, greeted her and then asked her if she had started playing the video game he recommended.

“N-Not yet, Fujisaki… I-I have an important d-deadline…”

“I understand. It doesn't matter, don't worry. The game on Vapor doesn’t run away.”

“B-But are you really s-sure I'll like it? I'm not a big g-gamer…”

"I'm very sure! Nine Nine Nine has what it takes to suit your tastes!”

"Y-You think?”

“Of course. For example, what if I told you that the basis of everything is parallel realities?”

My almost-but-not-really sixth sense as a detective began to trill and made me follow the discussion, extremely intrigued. I didn't quite understand why but if I have learned one thing in twenty-seven years of life, it’s that I mustn't question it when it goes off on its own.

The Ultimate Programmer began to rattle off some plot details of the aforementioned game: “It's not my intention to spoil you, so if you feel like I'm saying too much feel free to stop me. But I guess I don't spoil anything by explaining to you that there are multiple endings, and that's because each choice you make opens up a different branch of the story. You may be able to do what you have to do, or end up with a dagger in the back depending on your decisions.”

Ummmmmmm…

Fukawa seemed quite engrossed in the short explanation and started asking technical questions, quoting the name of a European city and other words that honestly sounded like some obscure demonic invocation to my ears. That’s where I made a mental note to delve deeper.

“To make a long story short,” Fujisaki concluded “the whole Zero Escape saga has this strong component with the various timelines, called histories. The most important thing is that they all happen. When you get to the true ending it doesn't mean the rest of the game doesn’t matter because… oh well, it's the endings where people die, I can ignore them. They count! Those things really did happen, only in another history.”

Just as Fukawa renewed her interest in trying it, the bell rang.

At the exact moment the lessons were over, I rushed to the library. I had to study. Because I’m an unwitting time traveler and, caught in the excitement of being eleven years before my true time, I immediately thought about changing the course of events.

But what assures me that I won’t do any damage?

And above all, after hearing that speech, how do I know that my work here won’t erase the existence of my five friends? Of our Kibougamine? Of all the good things we have done? It would be because I somehow neutralized Enoshima, that's true, but I wouldn't be particularly happy about that.

“Kirigiri, why are you invading my fiefdom? Should I have you pilloried?”

Shut up, Togami. This isn’t the time for your delusions of grandeur.

I passed him, sitting as I’ve always remembered him with a book and a coffee of bat poop in his hand, while I pretended that nothing had happened.

Okay, I had arrived at my destination.

“Dabbling in Nobel subjects? Are you sure you’re up to it? As far as I know, physics isn't exactly your forte.”

...stay calm.

I started rummaging through those huge tomes.

“You won't find pictures of semi-nude, musclebound models in there.”

…

Okay, it was too much.

I turned to him, glared at him and said: “You spend your days repeatedly reading the files about the victims of Genocider Syo. And I suspect you even get sexually aroused by them.”

Wow. This sharp comeback was maybe a bit too much, even for him.

He reacted by growling, even asking how I knew. I didn’t answer. It's the magic of hindsight, baby.

“And besides, I like them short and well endowed.” I whispered.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

Kyouko, you’re surely getting old. As a young girl you weren't so daring, let alone indulge in vicious jokes like that. This Togami is so young and even more clumsy than the one who calls you Joan Watson thinking he can get away with it. You don’t really have to traumatize him.

Then he luckily gave up and went back to his things.

I did the same with mine.

Gosh, quantum physics is stuff for brainiacs. I consider myself intelligent, but I don’t possess the type of intelligence necessary to make me understand these big words and all these very complicated formulas.

Luckily there were also parts written in Japanese and not in Mathematical, so I managed to get a vague idea.

It seems that two theories applicable to time travel are the most popular, if you believe it possible. They’re the Copenhagen interpretation (the city named by Fukawa) and the Everett-Wheeler interpretation, also called many-worlds. To avoid the technical terms and a giant migraine, I can summarize the whole affair like this: the first one says that there‘s a single timeline and that any changes to the past inevitably affect the future, like what happens in the Back/Forward to the Future/Past movie. Or at least, I’d tend to consider the collapse of the wave function with similar effects. For example, citing the Schrödinger's cat experiment, according to this explanation there are no alternatives. The cat is either alive or dead. One of the two.

On the other hand, according to the many-worlds theory both cases are valid. As in there’s a universe in which the cat is alive and one in which the cat is dead. Obviously the matter is much more complex than that, but it’s wiser to stop here.

How does my situation fit in this mess?

Let's consider the Copenhagen first.

If by any chance I manage to make Enoshima harmless, this interpretation tells me that the future as I know it will disappear. Because, logically speaking, with Enoshima out of the picture there won’t be a Tragedy, and without a Tragedy there won’t be a Killing Game. Which means that the 78th survivors will never create another Kibougamine, simply because there would be no survivors. The fourteen of us would all together go to class reunions (the Despair Sisters would be in jail… or worse).

And that's good, for sure. Very good.

Except that...

Except that... where would the Togami who knows how to sometimes smile end up? What about the Fukawa who would die to save Komaru Naegi? And the Asahina who, after long days locked in her room at the Foundation, overcame the loss of her brother Yuta by demonstrating willpower and stubbornness? The Hagakure… no, he's still the same fool.

And above all, what would happen to the Makoto Naegi who… who I’m… I'm in love with? I finally managed to tell you. Happy now?

All these things would scatter like dust in the wind. Personally I wouldn’t be very happy, as long as I keep the memories of the future that would no longer be.

I’m fond of those five. Yes, I’m even fond of Hagakure.

I consider them my family, especially after my father died and my grandfather behaved in a way that was nothing short of deplorable.

One of those five is my soulmate, the one who gives me the prospect of a fulfilling life.

I don't want to lose them.

But what if the many-worlds interpretation was valid?

It would mean that, at the first different thing that happens, a second timeline sprouts out of nowhere and develops independently.

So I’d avoid the Tragedy, but I wouldn’t really change the future. Or rather, I would change it... more or less. God, it’s so complicated.

I don't really want this either.

I’d feel like I worked for nothing. Or worse still, like I worked for someone else’s sake. Someone who, without even being aware of it, would enjoy my blood, toil, tears and sweat.

If I’m allowed to speak with the utmost frankness: it would make me angry. People who live serene and peaceful because someone else did what had to be done behind the scenes and probably risked dying over and over. Or died trying.

It would also mean that my future would remain. Although I don't know if and when I would go back to it, except naturally (re)living these eleven years of separation. Or maybe not, I don't really understand it.

On one hand, I risk sending the whole story of my life as I know it down the drain, and not just mine; on the other hand, I would create an alternative timeline in which a bunch of pipsqueaks will be free to enjoy life at its fullest because of me, without knowing why. Neither option has that much appeal in my eyes.

Moreover, I’m talking about the best case scenario, which isn’t assured at all. Right now I’m not even sure of Naegi's support. And let me be clear, I can perfectly see why he’s wavering, but... please Naegi-kun, don't leave me to drown alone...

I’m fully aware that my considerations are flawed because they’re extremely selfish. I don’t like these scenarios for a simple reason: be it hooked or crooked, the one that would somehow lose out would always be me. But I can’t only think for myself, not when the fate of the world literally hangs in my hands.

As I said, I'm aware of it.

And being aware of it allowed me, at that moment, to get up from the library table, to skilfully avoid Togami who was trying to make me pay for what happened just before, to leave that place with the firm intention of not letting myself be shaken by what will come.

Because if… when I stop Enoshima, the consequences for me won't matter. They really don’t matter if my actions will save humanity from the dark machinations of a single, evil mind.

Feh. In these moments Makoto-kun's influence (when I use my first name I refer to the older one) shines like a car headlight shot directly in the eye. When I corrected myself, saying when instead of if … that didn’t come from me, it came from him. I don't mind recognizing it, it's something positive. I really need to think positive now.

I headed to my room to come and write these lines, an unusual smile on my lips. I'm really getting soft.

Ten days after my arrival.

I closed my bedroom door thirty seconds ago. Makoto Naegi has just left.

I rushed to write, I need to unload.

He said yes.

All kami be thanked, he said yes.

He said yes!

...Kyouko, breathe. Don't freak out. You’re still a Kirigiri and we don't react like that.

It's just… hell, when he sat on my bed to talk, I had the distinct feeling that my aortic valve was going to explode. Never have I felt my heartbeat going so fast.

It’s easy to think that it was due, at least in part, to the sentimental implications I carry with me towards the man he’ll become.

The fact remains that the turmoil was true. Palpable.

I think even he, who’s not exactly a champion of intuition, has noticed it.

I’ll skip the pleasantries, no one cares.

“Kirigiri-san, I've thought about it a lot. And I mean a lot. Your story is beyond the limits of what’s possible. I found it hard to believe, to put it mildly. For some inscrutable reason you’d be occupying the body of yourself at sixteen, finding yourself eleven years in your past. And what you told me you lived and saw happen is terrifying, but just as far-fetched. Yet... I now understand that you’re the cold type who doesn't like to expose themselves emotionally too much, if at all... yet your sincerity as you were narrating was clear. I saw you rubbing your fingers even if you tried not to show it, I saw you wince slightly the moment you spoke of the purple scars on your face, I heard the remorse that filtered through your words mentioning the occasion in which you would have sentenced me to death. In fact, perhaps because I'm a poor gullible idiot, I was inclined to trust you from the start. I just had to get through the initial shock and, once that subsided, my acceptance remained. Besides, you said it yourself that being hopeful is one of my qualities.”

Yeah, I said it. And I confirm it with all of myself.

Among other things, I owe him an apology for having called him unintuitive. I had to change my mind, it's not easy to pick up on my tiny signs of discomfort.

I looked him straight in the eye, relieved by his speech. Then I asked him: “So you accept my request?”

I again risked a complete meltdown when he smiled and replied that yes, he accepted.

I thanked him heartily, hugging him with all my might. He must have been convinced that I come from the future, because at sixteen I’d have preferred a slow fire branding over such an action. I don’t even want to think about the effort I had to exert to keep myself from kissing him.

We then agreed on the details. Right now following Enoshima is the best tactic. I’d be surprised not to find her together with her sister while she goes to commit who knows what foul wickedness, so we’ll have to be extremely careful to avoid detection. Or our jugularies will have the pleasure of getting to know a survival knife first-hand.

Now I finally see a glimmer of light on the horizon.

I... we can do it.

No, this isn’t a journal entry. My new best friend is sitting on my bedroom desk.

It’ll be difficult as it is doing this, just imagine what could happen if I took a book with me to annotate in real time. Besides, If I really wanted to, I have a cell phone. Okay, I'm old school, but I don't see why not to take advantage of the wonders of modern technology whenever possible.

Now, as a good amateur journalist, I'll fill in the five Ws: who, when, where, what and why.

The who is clear: Junko Enoshima and Mukuro Ikusaba. Ultimate Model and Ultimate Soldier respectively, but actually Ultimate Despair.

The when: it's late, about forty minutes ago the night time went live and no one but the surveillance officers should be around.

The where: we’ve been on the heels of the Despair Sisters for a while and they seem to be heading towards a building that is normally off-limits for anyone.

The why: all of this is happening because Enoshima is basically a madwoman. The least interesting part.

Unfortunately I’m not able to fill in the What column for the simple fact that I don’t know it. I really don’t have any idea what they're up to right now. Indeed, discovering it is precisely the reason that prompted me to act in this way.

Naegi, like a good boy, doesn’t make any noise and just does what I do. He's smart enough to understand that it wouldn’t be good to get caught by those two, especially considering the sharp cleaver that Ikusaba lazily dangles from her hand. The butcher's smock would look good on her.

...Kyouko, please. Focus.

We’ve been crouched in the branches for a while as we see them enter that door closed to all mere mortals.

Stakeouts have always been the painful part of my job. I have to thank my workaholic nature for allowing me to endure them, otherwise I fear I wouldn't have been able to handle such a concentrated cosmic clot of nothing.

Five minutes pass. Then ten. Then fifteen.

What the hell are you two doing? A Turkish bath while dressed?

Naegi gives signs of letting up and begins to push to let us in. I have to put a virtual muzzle on him and tell him that it’s out of the question, too dangerous and without any guarantee of success.

“Kirigiri-san, how can you find out what they're doing?”

“By seeing the results. Please, let me do my job.”

“If you say so…”

So little faith in your friendly neighborhood Ultimate Detective.

Finally our patience pays off.

The door opens. Ikusaba is the only one to come out. Or rather, the younger of the twins seems to have fainted and the other is pulling her over her shoulder. I'd like to believe she may be dead, but I know she isn't. So far I haven’t interfered to the point of causing dramatic changes.

Unexpected but interesting development, I have to admit.

What could have happened to take her out?

I motion to my little Watson to bend down, showing up now wouldn't be wise.

When she has gone far enough, I get up and start off. He does the same.

“So you want to go?” he whispers.

“I surely do. As you have seen, they entered in two and left in one and a half. Something must have happened and I have every intention of discovering what.”

With our guard still up, ‘cause she could retrace her steps, we approach the entrance and open it.

The show that welcomes us is…

Nauseating.

The long corridor that appears before us, illuminated only by cold neon light, is literally littered with corpses.

Blood everywhere.

They look… they look like guards.

Slaughtered, with bullet holes in their heads, some of them are almost split open.

Behind me I hear Naegi trying to hold back the vomit. I can't blame him.

The smell… the smell is disgusting.

I’ve seen my share of bodies in my life between my profession and the various Killing Games in which I was forced to participate, but such a stench had never occurred before.

Despite being used to it, I’m not indifferent.

It’s clear that doctor Jekyll and miss Hyde forced their way through. Which leads me to think that, whatever is kept here, the academy doesn't want anyone to know about it.

A terrible doubt rushes through my brain.

What if it’s...

Calm down. Don't bandage your head before you’ve broken it.

Let's find out.

I tell him not to look at the ground. Look high and straight at the target.

We continue, always pretending not to see the piles of bodies that adorn the environment. It gets harder and harder with each passing second. But we do it. We have to do it.

Then, after a short ride, we arrive.

In front of us there’s an armored door. Splashed with red.

Hurray.

There don't seem to be any locks, handles or other traditional ways to open it.

I become aware of a device on the wall.

I begin to study it.

…

It’s an eye recognition mechanism. I doubt my eyes or Naegi's are okay. I assume you need that of a high-level executive.

Did they stop here too?

No Kyouko, you’re underestimating Enoshima. She’s the one who managed to stir up the entire reserve course, to overturn the school and bring it to catastrophe, to get this close from the total destruction of the world.

She has entered, it cannot be otherwise.

But how...

I notice a strange round object on the ground. I bend down to pick it up.

Yaugh!

That’s HOW they succeeded.

“Naegi-kun, take a couple of steps back. I don't want you to see.” As long as I can, I’m going to shield him from traumas like this. I smile to myself at the thought, because at his age I probably wouldn’t have used such concern towards anyone, I’d have caught the eye and waved it under his nose with a triumphant smile.

I feel him obey me. Good boy.

I do what I have to.

ZIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN.

Here we are.

And here all my fears materialize at once: the person that sits on the only piece of furniture in the room in front of us, a cot, is Izuru Kamukura.

Now it all makes more sense. Now I see the whole in its entirety, or at least the shadow areas begin to brighten.

Enoshima must have come to talk to him a while ago. If she managed to get him to her side…

No, wait. Don’t rush.

Ikusaba carried her off on her shoulder, passed out. There must have been some kind of setback and he knocked her out for reasons unknown to me.

Besides, as little as I’ve seen him in action, I know almost for sure that Kamukura doesn’t get enthralled by the first siren that sings to him. Far from it. His "...what a bore.", said in a tone that even I found too flat, still ring in my ears.

Think, Kyouko. It’s critically important to understand what may have happened between those three to establish how dangerous it is to be in this room now.

But, even while trying to stay positive, I can't discard the hypothesis that we can die here. It can’t be overruled. As far as I know, behind that expressionless face he’s counting the number of chunks he intends to cut us into.

On the other hand, the opportunity I have before me is really unique. I’ll hardly be able to find myself face to face with him again in the near future, I should try to milk it for some information.

“...who are you?” he asks, the voice that a dead person would have if they could speak.

Don't panic. Don't panic. You can't make a fool of yourself in front of Naegi.

Okay, I’ll try the aggressive tactic: “Why did you take out Enoshima?”

“...you didn’t answer me.” In his eyes, as vital as the frozen tundra, a flash flickers. And when a person like Izuru Kamukura has a flash in his eye, even I can't deny the urge to grab a diaper and put it on.

“You’re the super genius, aren't you? Show me.” I’m playing not with a single lit match, but with the entire great fire of London. Yet I'm curious to test his amazing abilities or presumed such, since I’ve never had to deal with him face to face.

Amaze me.

For a split second he almost seems to betray the shadow of the ghost of a surprise reaction. Then he opens his lips and says: “...detective.”

“What makes you say that?”

“...you have at least eight distinctive signs that identify you as such.”

“For example?”

“...the way you walk and bear yourself.”

“Something more?”

“…this petulant insistence of yours. Typical.”

Touchè. Luckily I'm not in Yui-san's company, she would have been offended.

“And my... partner?” No, temptation to use beloved, be quiet.

“...a nobody.”

“Eh?" he says, I guess not happy about being defined in this way.

“Why do you say that?”

“...his total lack of talent blinds me.”

“Just for that you use the word nobody?”

“...talent is everything.”

Seriously? Even this smartass believes in such a ridiculous thing?

Talent is everything.

Ever since I had the misfortune of hearing Nagito Komaeda bray this nonsense or some variation of it during the Killing Game on Jabberwock, I’ve developed hatred for like-minded people. It's such a blatant lie that I... seriously, how can you come to believe it? I don’t understand such a leap into the void.

Just one dazzling example is enough for me to disprove them: Makoto Naegi. Technically speaking Kamukura is right, he’s without talent (excluding luck, which however is intermittent and above all not superhuman like Komaeda’s). But I know well what that seemingly average human is really capable of.

For God’s sake, I'm alive because of him. To do him full justice, me and the other four should wake up every day and say thanks to him. Had he not been there, Enoshima would have crushed us under the heel of her despair. We were five corpses emptied of any ambition for survival and only his intervention, aimed at each of our hearts, rescued us from the blanket of apathy that had enveloped us.

Is this really the work of a nobody? I don’t think so.

“You have no idea how wrong you are.” I declare, the expression of one who’s not afraid of being contradicted because she’s absolutely sure she’s right.

My rash sentence (yeah, I’ve been rash to the point of recklessness) seems to have a vague effect on his mask of impassivity. Just vague. I’m not the Ultimate Psychologist, but I noticed the small changes in his body language.

I decide to push, encouraged by the tiny advantage: “Did I surprise you? Can’t believe it. And here I thought that nothing could scratch you. You sure you’re the Ultimate Analyst?” I know he and our fake Ultimate Model share this trait. Both, being able to predict the reactions of others without error, have been overwhelmed by boredom.

Behind me I hear an indefinable noise, as if someone were talking to themselves in a low voice. You’ll explain to me later, Naegi-kun.

“...only one other person caught my curiosity in a similar way.”

Wow, that's some juicy news. There was a precedent, another pickaxe that created an infinitesimal crack in his stainless steel wall.

Wait, wait a minute.

…

…

…

…

I understand. I think I’ve understood.

Yes, it has to be it. I'm sure.

“You mean the visit you received earlier, don't you?”

He doesn’t respond.

His gaze. It isn’t the total gaze made of nothing that he has given me so far. it’s made for 99.99% of nothing but I see a subtle, subtle, subtle, so subtle desire to hear me while I explain myself.

Don't waste this window, Kyouko. It might lead nowhere, it might be a waste of time… or it might be what sorts out the mess you're currently in.

“So, let me piece together what happened. I saw Enoshima and Ikusaba come out a little while ago. I can say with almost total certainty that they left that trail of corpses because their target was well defended by the academy. And their target, it seems clear to me, was you. It means you talked to them. Why did Junko Enoshima make her way to have an audience with the best kept secret of Kibougamine? I know what that crazy woman is up to, I'm painfully aware of it. The only option I can consider valid is that she came here in person to convince you to join her, I assume by telling you how beautiful and exciting despair must be and that it’s the only thing that can free you from the yoke of predictability that’s crushing you. And I also know that you would end up accepting, if only nominally, to confirm or deny by your own hand the veracity of her claims. You're actually desperate for something that can energize you intellectually, if not emotionally, and make your 300 IQ life worth living. A purpose, that's what you seek. A purpose other than mere existence.”

Okay, the next twenty seconds are crucial. If he gets up, it’ll be to break my neck with one hand.

No, he doesn’t seem to want to attack me.

He runs a hand through his hair, slowly. He looks… unbelievable, he looks… thoughtful. I could be wrong, I’m always talking about someone as expressive as a plate of vibranium.

“...how do you know it?” he then asks, taking me by surprise.

“How do I know what?”

“...you have been detailed in your examination, citing specific facts as certainty. Your category never exposes itself more than necessary but you have spoken absolutely, as if you knew events that should be precluded to you.”

First of all I’m lucky, at least for now he seems to overlook the fact that I have drawn his psychological profile. I like to think it's because I got it right and he's not touchy.

Secondly, I have a crazy idea in my head. Terribly insane. I still want to try it: “What if I told you that I know what will happen?”

The bomb has been thrown into the fray. Let's see how much noise it makes when it explodes.

Naegi, behind me, lets out a sound of astonishment. I know it may seem idiotic to put out this little detail, Naegi-kun, but even I need the thrill of the unknown every now and then.

And if it costs us our lives... I'm sorry, it was my fault.

No, perhaps this last sentence is a bit hasty. Kamukura gets up, without giving the slightest sign of aggression, and starts staring at me. He’s still as a statue, his arms folded and his head just slightly tilted to the right.

If I didn't know that it's impossible, I’d swear he’s x-raying me, almost like he was digging into my soul. I feel violated.

Then, after long minutes of silence, he issues his sentence: “...you’re not who you say you are.”

Oh come on, don't put it this way. Sounds bad. Not that it's wrong, but...

“What do you mean?”

“...my talent as the Ultimate Detective would never lead me to formulate your last statement, even if asked as a question. Assuming that you’re much less gifted than me, surely you’re enough not to rant in such a way. The logical conclusion is that you weren't ranting. So, I’ll say it again, you’re not who you say you are.”

What should I do? Do I play with my cards face up, since he almost got it?

Why not?

“You're right. I’m not the person who appears before you. Or, to be more precise, I am and I am not.” Just a little more mystery.

“...explain yourself.” Apparently he wants answers. What a pity.

Okay, I'd say I have to tell the truth and nothing but the truth: “In case you didn't know, my name is Kyouko Kirigiri. The fact is, I’m not sixteen but twenty-seven. I come from the year 2021 and I suddenly found myself thrown into my body of the past, no idea how it happened. It’s for this reason that I know Enoshima's intentions. And it’s also for this reason that I’ve assumed with a certain margin of safety your reaction to her proposal. You were in the group of the Remnants of Despair who participated in the Killing Game of class 77, presumably you got caught on purpose and put in that simulation to infect the Neo World Program with Enoshima’s AI. Oops, sorry, I should have used the future tense in your case.” So far being sarcastic has been fine, I hope that the trend continues like this.

I expect resistance from him. It would be too easy otherwise.

Case in point. Continuing to look at me he says: “...you're lying.”

“Predictable reaction,” I smirk, because saying such a thing to Izuru Kamukura is almost suicidal “but it’s wrong. I'm sincere. Confused about how it could have happened, but sincere.”

“...what you claim is scientifically impossible.”

“Who talked about science? If you want to know the details, I was walking around the school campus that I help manage and a baseball was coming right on my face. I closed my eyes, a little scared of the impending impact, and when I opened them again… poof, I was eleven years behind. Around me there were people who had been dead for a long time. Once in front of a mirror I became white as a sheet, the reflection of a face which hasn’t been mine for what it seems like an eternity. Now tell me, since you've certainly studied my microexpressions and all that stuff during my speech: do you still think I'm lying?”

He answers much faster than I expected: “…no. Or at least you don't think you're lying. You believe in what you say. But the beliefs of an individual don’t subvert the laws of quantum physics. Time travel is not feasible.”

“So how do you justify my knowing of things I shouldn't know? The summary content of what Enoshima told you, for example. Or the prediction of your future behavior, which you know is in line with your intentions. And even if it isn't at the moment… trust me, it’ll be.”

He darkens slightly, as if I had caught him off guard. Rejoice Kyouko, not everyone can say they had this titanic effect on him.

I sense one thing: it's time to accelerate. I don't know where this is going, but if I can ignite a spark of interest in this piece of dry ice… well, something will come out of it. The alternative is to do nothing and leave Enoshima free to go wild with her apocalypse.

“Kamukura, I challenge you.” I declare, with only a bit of healthy fear that keeps me from pointing my index finger at his face “Ask me questions about future things and I’ll answer you correctly. Or better yet. I'll be the one to tell you things I shouldn't know. For example, the name of your former identity, before he decided to undergo the Talent Cultivation Project promoted by the academy. Hajime Hinata, an ordinary reserve student who lived in the veneration of talent and pined away for not possessing it. Although I know that there was a friend of his called Chiaki Nanami who tried to dissuade him, that’s why he agreed to act as a guinea pig. The result is you. Izuru Kamukura, the one the Kibougamine board renamed Ultimate Hope.”

Thank you for your verbosity, Tengan, and thank you for being overly long, Foundation’s documents. Your logorrhea has finally paid off.

Well, mister I’m-the-Alpha-and-the-Omega. I’ve revealed to you what I had to say. What are you going to do now?

Silence.

Here we go. He’s about to speak: “...why?”

“I’m sorry?” The confusion must be evident on my face, I don't understand this question.

“…why did you tell me all this? What do you hope to achieve?”

Oh. Here's what he meant.

“I don’t know. I recognize that perhaps I have simply given way to a vague intention to speak for the sake of speaking, without a specific purpose. But I felt that I had to confront you with my dilemma.”

“...dilemma?”

“I know the situation will appear alien to you for more than one reason, but what do you think anyone would do in my place?”

“...assuming the impossibility of your journey back in time?”

I still haven't convinced you, you hyper-rational: “Taking it for real, yes.”

“...simple. A normal person would try to put a stop to what Enoshima is preparing to accomplish, whatever it is specifically. The way you talked about her plans makes it clear that it will be a major event that will lead to vast amounts of death.”

“Exactly. I don't know which paradox, divinity or higher will I should thank, or alternatively curse, for what has happened to me. But now I’m here and I can stop the Tragedy. I have every intention to do so.”

“...kill Enoshima.”

The phrase freezes the blood in my veins.

Did you really have to bring that hypothesis back to the surface? Or to phrase it better, did you have to give it strength? Because it never really went away, especially when I’m tired or stressed.

Luckily Naegi-kun, for the first time since we have been here, makes his presence known: “No! Killing is wrong! And anyway, Kirigiri-san would never do that. She's not a killer!”

“...eliminating the root of the problem is the fastest, most effective and safest solution.”

“Maybe, but there are other implications.”

“…if you’re talking about moral issues, they’re paper-thin obstacles that stand between you and your target. It is extremely unreasonable to allow them to stop you. Morality is overrated.”

And then, out of nowhere, what can be a stroke of genius. Or the definitive sign that I’ve completely gone mad: “Then you tell me how.”

“...what?”

“I rephrase the challenge I gave you earlier. Take my story and treat it as if it were true, whether you believe it or not. Everything, even the most unlikely parts. Accept it in bulk. Then you have to eliminate the possibility of murder, because as he rightly stated it’s not a viable path. Having said so, what would you do if you were in my shoes?”

He reflects. His response isn’t instantaneous, which means the matter is complex. I admit that I feel a fine pleasure in being able to ask him a question that obliges him to think.

After about a minute, the answer comes: “...use your knowledge.”

“How? I don't know…”

“...you know enough, probably. You know Enoshima's intentions and mine, I find it hard to believe that there’s not hindsight information that could be useful to you.”

Simple but effective advice. I didn't stop even for a moment to think about it, the pressure obfuscated my mind.

It could be the ace up the sleeve that will lead me to win my war. Or to die trying.

Okay, I'd say this sortie has paid off. In more ways than one.

We take our leave, with him obviously not wasting his time to say goodbye.

We retrace the road backwards, taking care not to dwell more than necessary over the bodies.

Once outside, the cool evening air leads me to breathe deeply. This reaction isn’t due only to having crossed a corridor that looked like a slaughterhouse, I must say. I feel a breeze of optimism in my bones.

I'm about to tell Naegi to go back to his room when I notice his bewildered gaze.

Uh? Kid, is something wrong?

“Kirigiri-san…” he begins, shy. Come on, don't make me worry.

“Naegi-kun, what is it? Meeting Izuru Kamukura upset you to this point? You were also unexpectedly silent there.”

“It's just that…” he hesitates. He seems to be looking for the right words with which to express himself.

“What?”

“It’s just... what the hell am I doing here?”

Excuse me?

“Forgive me if I look surprised, but I am. What do you mean?”

“You didn't need me while you were talking to him. You did very well on your own. And in fact what was my contribution? I just stole oxygen.”

The dejected look with which he pronounces the last sentence is a hard, powerful attack on my self-control. You’re absurdly adorable, you know that?

“Don't underestimate yourself so much. Do I have to be honest? In such situations you may not be able to help in a concrete way, that’s true. But I’ve told you outright that your presence is a comfort and supports me.”

“How? I doubt that the floral motif on the walls of your room can be a good wingman.”

Damn, no. I don't have to be… irritated.

Breathe Kyouko, breathe.

“You don't even remotely suspect your true worth if you talk like that, Naegi-kun. In the future from which I come from, there have been several occasions during our Killing Game where the 78th came very close to self-destructing. No cohesion, no unity of purpose, nothing positive. Only paranoia and distrust among those who had once been the best of friends. Guess who was the brave champion who punctually, whenever the need arose, took charge of the situation and brought us back to the fold.”

Amazement. Pure amazement in his eyes.

“Exactly, my dear. I'm talking about you. While we poor idiots groped in the dark, staring at each other wary and suspicious, someone always did his best to show us the right way to go. Constantly, generously and with a perennial smile on his face. You can't understand how crucial your presence was in making sure we didn't annihilate each other. And now, after this excursus, do you still have the courage to ask yourself what you’re doing here with me now? Come on, you're not stupid.”

He’s about to say something, I imagine expressing his astonishment, when I resume: “I always want you by my side, always. I know I can't do it without you, you’re the only one who can support me in moments of confusion or despair. They’re waiting for me, I see them scattered on the road that appears in front of me. In front of us. It won't be easy at all. While I like to act like a person who never stumbles, I‘ve stumbled a lot in the past while walking alone. I’d do it again and I wouldn’t forgive myself, just as I haven’t forgiven myself in the past. You don't want to be partially responsible for my road accidents, do you?”

I swear, the moral blackmail wasn’t intended. It was just a matter of externalizing my deepest insecurities, managing for once in my life not to be ashamed of showing myself vulnerable. Because I'm damn vulnerable right now. Still searching for an effective method to succeed in the mission, still bewildered by time travel, unstable in the march. It’s simple to put your foot on the classic banana peel, end up upside down with a free panty shot and crack your pelvis without being able to continue.

I need certainties, bases on which I can rely. My strongest and safest base is Makoto Naegi, without the shadow of a doubt.

I... I need him.

I stare into his eyes, take his hands in mine and tell him: “Please, help me.”

He hesitates. I encourage him with my eyes.

“If… if you ask me with such force, Kirigiri-san…”

“Let me hear it, please. I need to hear that clearly.”

“Y-Yes, I'm with you.”

“Until the end?”

“U-Until the end."

“Even if we both risk our lives?”

“Even if we both risk our lives.”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

Outwardly I thank him with the intensity of a thousand suns.

Inwardly… well, let’s just say I’m in the center of an over-the-top bachelorette party. Striptease on the table dancing to the rhythm of the song of Nine Weeks and a Piece and a Half, a bottle of champagne gulped in one go, screams and cackles like the most exciting Japan Series of the century.

As we make our way to the dorms, I realize that now there are two reasons why I have to raise a prayer in his name every morning.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Did I mention that I was stupid?

I’m writing these lines at the end of the longest day since I found myself in the past.

For a week now, ever since I met Kamukura, Naegi-kun had been coming to my room after class. Officially to study, but in reality we were thinking of an effective method to get around this quagmire.

Seven days. In seven days we haven’t been able to figure out anything. We haven't had a single valid idea other than trying to cut Enoshima's head off her neck with a pruning hook and die in the attempt, gutted by Ikusaba's claymore. Since when did I get so histrionic?

Obviously it’s my fault. I'm the time traveler, the one who knows what should have happened. Besides, this isn’t the field in which he gives the best of himself. He has never been a great strategist.

Seriously. It was my duty to devise a plan, not his.

My duty.

I’ve failed.

I’m the incompetent.

I’ve been slow. Indecisive. Inadequate.

Those souls weigh on my conscience and forever will.

I won't forgive myself for not being able to save them. I can't forgive myself. I mustn't forgive myself. I don't want to forgive myself.

Let me summarize.

This morning, after yet another fruitless meeting the previous evening, me and my boy toy (good heavens Kyouko, you sound like a cougar terrified by the impending arrival of the menopause) decided to lift our flabby buttocks and finally do something.

What?

Have a chat with my father.

Basic, I know. I realize this all too well. But when the water is rising up your throat, you don't start playing the primadonna with bombastic moves.

Of course he was more than happy to see me, as he had been the previous time I walked into his office. He didn't expect Naegi-kun to be there and I can't blame him, I wouldn't have expected it in his place either.

After a quick round of pleasantries, guest starring Kizakura who never leaves that office, he made us sit down: “Why are you two here, my daughter?”

The confidence he allows himself to take is unnerving. To behave like there’s no problem between us. As if I really cared about being in his presence. Does he by any chance think I don't feel an ounce of resentment and disappointment towards him?

...

Okay, it was too much. Your grudge hasn't completely gone away yet, but you can't even say he was the degenerate father you believed for years and years.

Your photo in his room on the second floor. His computer password. Other elements scattered here and there, including your grandfather's unmotivated hatred towards him. Now you have a better picture of the situation and you know it wouldn't be fair to treat him like that.

Keep this in mind for the next time you deal with him.

I cleared my throat and replied: “Headmaster, we wanted to warn you of something.”

He looked at me as if I had just said I have terminal cancer: “Kyouko, what’s this formality? Call me dad.”

“Our blood relationship has nothing to do with why we’re here, so I think it's better to keep the right distance and give you the respect you deserve.”

Sometimes I forget that I’m capable of lying with a poker face rivaling Ludenberg’s. Without giving him time to argue, I started talking again: “We learned something very…”

DRIIIN DRIIIN. The phone rang. Stupid misplaced interruptions.

He answered.

For about a minute we both stared at him as he went more and more pale. When he ended the conversation…

“P-Please... excuse me, something... terrible just happened…”

Fu... fu... okay. If I’m ever going to swear, now it’s the right time. Fuck.

God, how... how... how could I...

They had just found the bodies of the entire student council, gruesomely murdered.

Damn you, Enoshima. On your train to Hell there’s another seat, and that’s for me.

I had completely removed it. Totally. Only when he picked up the phone, my mental haze dissipated.

I managed to forget about fourteen people killed inside the school walls. Like it's something that happens every day. Of course, come on. It’s such a normal occurrence that it goes unnoticed.

A wave of something horrible, viscous and smelly, swept me over and drowned me there on the spot. I barely found the mental clarity to predict to my father what would happen shortly thereafter, the thing about the reserve course setting up its harmless protest against the academy's administration.

Then the desire to hang myself got the better of me and I left without another word, Naegi behind me. As soon as I was outside the principal's office he asked me the most obvious question, since I probably had the complexion of the Frankenstein monster: “Kirigiri-san... are… are you okay?”

I wanted to make sure we were alone on the way before answering him, the meddlesome secretary who listened to everything was the last thing I needed: “No. Right now I hate myself.”

“W-Why?”

“…I forgot about it. I knew it would happen and, I don't know how, I forgot it.”

He put a hand on his mouth, horrified. Could I have expected anything different? Could I possibly blame him for the reaction?

I smiled, the smile of someone who loves irony to the point of wanting to strangle it, and I said to him: “See? Don't worry, I'll need you now, I don't know how I can get out of this pit alone.”

These are the moments when I long to be as Togami was at the beginning of our Killing Game. Full of myself to the point of bursting, numb, convinced that I cannot make mistakes. It’d avoid a lot of trouble and regret.

Believing that you don’t have any feelings is so convenient in such a case. But you see, the aforementioned feelings will still come to claim all that is due to them. And it’s not pretty.

“Kirigiri… Kirigiri-san… d-did you really…”

“I did. I made the most glaring of mistakes. A mistake that I wouldn't have made at the beginning of my career, when I wasn’t even able to correctly pronounce the word detective. And those poor people paid the consequences of my foolishness.”

“Don't say that! You…”

"What else should I say? That it’s understandable to miss such a detail on the way? It's not. IT’S NOT! Naegi-kun, I want this to be clear: I don't need your help to convince me that this wasn't a mistake on my part, because it was. A giant mistake. I need your help to get back on track without being crushed by what I’ve just allowed to happen. I don’t want to pretend nothing has happened, or worse to brand a similar tragedy as a simple, negligible hiccup. Fourteen people lost their lives and I could have stopped it. I had all the means. All the means!”

I put my hands to my face. I was seriously close to the breaking point and didn't want him to see me cry.

Wow Kyouko, good job. Kamukura had suggested that I use hindsight. If I can't stop what I know will happen, how can I stop something as nebulous and undefined as the rest of Enoshima’s project?

I was standing there sobbing, like a little brat desperate because her special friend has crumpled up her love letter and uses it to play baseball at recess. Then, suddenly, someone clung to me. I didn't pull my gloves away to see who it was, it was obvious. Obvious but still appreciated.

“Kirigiri-san... now... now I think I understand... why you asked for my help…”

I couldn't answer him.

“But… but you don't have to carry the whole weight of this on your shoulders. It’s gonna destroy you. You're not alone.”

I... I know. I insisted for a reason.

“I… I still… failed…” I stammered.

“As you told me, you lack the details of what Enoshima-san is doing. You didn't know when and where it would happen, nor did you have a real way to stop it. Unless you wanted to show up there armed with just your indignation. But I guess she was accompanied by her sister...”

Very easy. Practically certain.

Intestine. Window. No, thanks.

“There wasn't much you could really do to prevent this catastrophe. Your only chance was to lay the cards on the table with the principal, tell him what you said to me and hope that he believed you.”

“That’s... that's not the point…”

“And what is it, then?”

“The fact that I forgot!” I almost screamed, even though the fabric of my gloves muffled it. Did he really not understand?

“If I remember your long and detailed summary, there are ten thousand or more things you need to pay attention to. Even for someone like you it’s not easy. You’ve taken on a challenging task and you’re carrying it out on your own, at least from the purely action side. I understand that you feel guilty and I don't intend to belittle it, because unfortunately you’re right about that. It was a tragedy. But you said that it's not understandable to miss such a detail... well, I have to disagree. You’re human, not an infallible robot. Perhaps defining all of this as just a detail isn’t correct because we’re still talking about lives lost forever, but no one can expect you to have a precise chronology of events printed in your head. Not even you yourself, especially if you're the first to not be sure of their when.”

“I... you’re giving me too many mitigating circumstances…”

“Valid mitigation, as I see it. And they're mitigating circumstances, not justifications. I won’t be the one to tell you that there’s nothing wrong, because I know that I wouldn’t convince you and in any case it’d be a lie. I just wish... well, I wish you would try to get past the obstacle. Or that at least you made an effort to do so. You said it yourself, you don't want to allow this terrible mistake to get in the way of your goal and personally I can't help but believe that's right. After all you can't bring them back to life, but you can ensure that their death wasn’t in vain. For my part, I’ll give you all the support I’m capable of.”

I was very shaken, very upset, very angry. So I said nothing as he put his arm on my shoulder and led me to the dormitory area. He asked me if I preferred my room or his for seclusion (too low in spirits to see any kind of romantic implication) and I replied that mine would be just fine.

Once inside, we sat on the edge of the bed and looked at each other for I don't know how many minutes. Neither of us knew how to start the conversation.

Then, out of nowhere, a confession came out: “You know, it's not the first time that something like this has happened to me…”

“What? Do you often travel through time?”

I forced myself to smile at the joke: “No, you dummy. I was talking about... about the weight of responsibility.”

“Sorry, I don't think I'm following you.”

“I recognize that I have a bad habit: I tend to take charge of everything and everyone, as if the fate of the whole world depended on me. Most of the time this is clearly not true. Although I’m a good detective, I still am not omnipotent. Some things, like it or not, are out of my control and I can't really help it. But in this case…”

I sighed. He looked at me: “Oh. Maybe I understand. This time... this time…”

“Yes, you understood. This time I really have the responsibility. I’m the only human being in this world who has seen... no, who has lived the future, often as a protagonist. I put these hands of mine” I said, placing them in front of his face “on the throats of Maizono, Ikusaba, Fujisaki, Yamada, Ishimaru, Oogami to check their pulse without finding any. I’m the one who did the same with Kimura, Yukizome, Gozou and Izayoi. I’m the one who saw Kuwata, Oowada and Ludenberg being executed in extravagant ways. I’m the one who watched as the Impostor, Hanamura, Koizumi, Pekoyama, Mioda, Saionji, Tsumiki, Nidai, Tanaka and Komaeda were killed. Okay, it was in a simulation, but I assure you it was very realistic. I’m the one who saw the face of the purest madness in Enoshima's crazed eyes as she pressed the big red button that marked the end of her life. And a thousand other horrible things that have happened to me or that I’ve witnessed. Last but not least, my personal metaphysical experience in a state of more dead than alive. You’re the only one who can vaguely come close to my enviable position and only because I told you about it. A meager month of fragmentary information that you don't have to remember doesn't give you that weight. Normally I flourish in this state, it makes me feel needed and strengthens my self-esteem. Now, given the magnitude of the situation, it's just a boulder hunching me over. Indeed, more than a rock... if I remember correctly you know something about the Christian religion, right?”

He didn't understand where I was going with this, so he just nodded in fear.

“Then you'll understand what I mean if I tell you that I feel a bit like Jesus while he was climbing the Golgotha. Okay, I'm not the daughter of the Abrahamic god because only Togami is exalted enough to think such a thing... but believe me, now I understand all too well what it means to carry a cross on your shoulders. And not only that, I’m talking about a cross that, unlike him, I didn’t consciously choose to carry. Something or someone threw it on my back and made me start the climb. Sorry, I don't mean to bore you with my silly worries…”

It was a moment. He hugged me, a force I never thought a tiny guy like him could have, with enough thrust to make us both end up lying on the bed.

Did he notice? Did he notice that my temperature had skyrocketed beyond the warning levels and that I probably turned purple not just on the left half of my face? Let's hope not, it would be so inconvenient.

“Silly worries? Kirigiri-san, you don't have to say this even as a joke! They aren’t silly! How can you define them like this? And if I really have to be honest, I don't think…”

“N-Naegi-kun.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you please... move away?”

“OhmygodsorryIdidn’tmeanto! I didn't want to overwhelm you like this! I'm so sorry!” He straightened himself on, red like a traffic light. Part of me was grateful for his quick reaction, another part began to pour out an endless series of curses about missed opportunities and his entry into the magical world of kisses, hickeys and something more.

...shut up, you pervert. He’s a minor.

I think that the respective shades of embarrassment were very similar at the time.

He was incredibly quick to recover, though: “As I was saying, Kirigiri-san, you aren’t that different from Jesus. Let's say that a less altruistic person was in your place, I doubt that stopping Enoshima-san would be their first thought.”

“Are you referring to someone specific?” I asked while reaching him in the upright position we had before that excessive hug.

“No. It's just that…”

“You must have quite a few screws loose if this isn't your first thought, should what happened to me happen to you. You find yourself in the past after living a troubled life and you have the chance to fix everything. What normal person wouldn't focus on this?”

“Well, if you put it this way…”

“I really appreciate you trying to make me feel more valiant than I really am, but you’ll have to find better arguments. In any case this has nothing to do with the matter of responsibility, which is a quite different question and it’s a burden I have to carry on my own.”

A few seconds of silence.

Then a point-blank question from him: “Kirigiri-san, in my future and in your past... yeah, well, I mean, have you and I ever talked face to face after a trial?”

I answered faster than I myself expected, the memory is vivid in my mind: “Yes. After Maizono and Kuwata.”

“Oh.” Apparently he seemed surprised by what I said. I explained to him quite in detail how he had suffered the betrayal of his old friend: “And did I accidentally express my intention... I don’t know, to take their memory with me along the path ahead of us?”

“Exactly what you said at the time.” I commented, rather amazed. It seems the kid knows himself very, very well.

“So... why don't you do the same too?”

“How can I do that? I have no memory of them, since I didn't know them personally.”

“Pffffft. Sorry, but you sound like Togami-san when you have to explain to him that reading the atmosphere should not be interpreted in a literal sense. Of course I didn't mean personal memories, but their memory as victims of Enoshima-san's plan. You know, to be able to reproach her while the police take her away handcuffed for example. You can shout «This is for Murasame-san and everyone else!» ”

“A pair of handcuffs will never be enough to restrain Junko Enoshima. They will probably have to tie her up with stainless steel chains. And the same goes for her sister. Tch, I feel like I'm talking about two characters from One Part, where everything is big and exaggerated.”

“I don’t believe it! You read One Part?”

“I do, like any good Japanese citizen. But if you're going to ask me how it ends… I'm sorry, I don't know. The end of the world with Monokuma's face got in the way.”

He couldn't hold back an annoyed look at the news. Unfortunately, in my time, the manga industry has just started working again and all the notable names have disappeared, swallowed up by the Tragedy.

Absurd. This conversation started with me having an unprecedented crisis and ended with cultured dissertations on One Part, about the fact that it won't end and that we’ll never know the meaning of that blasted S.

You know what, Kyouko? Closing today's diary entry on a positive note, although extremely stupid, isn't all that bad. You needed a moment to shake off the heaviness of what happened from your shoulders. To travel burdened by this boulder must not be healthy.

I won’t forget them. I cannot forget them.

But I can use them as gasoline to fuel my car and resume the journey. The goal is still far away, the brats complain that they can't take it anymore, the husband (who is strangely short and with an ahoge) drives listlessly. But the smile on your lips, even if sad right now, is still there.

And then, all by himself, the stroke of genius.

Juzou Sakakura.

Not now. I'll tell you about it tomorrow. I'm tired now.

Juzou Sakakura.

Once again I saw Kamukura's words pass before my eyes and in that moment, unlike the previous ones, something magically came out from the cosmic void.

The not at all reassuring face of our former world boxing champion, middleweight category. You would say that he’s a super heavyweight, considering how big and ripped he is, but he has never reached the highest weight range.

Okay, who cares.

Why Juzou Sakakura?

Because I’m a lucky girl (questionable, but let's say I am for the sake of explanation) and I learned the background thanks to the kind, unexpectedly useful contribution of a secret diary that came out of nowhere. You’re in good company, happy?

Sometime after he walked away on his own as the most stereotypical of ronin, Munakata got in touch with the management of our school and let us know that all the Tragedy, and I mean all, could have been avoided if only his right hand man hadn’t been a shy man frightened by the judgment of others.

...no, it's not nice to be sarcastic about a person who, as far as I'm concerned, died saving me, Makoto and Aoi among others. Even if it’s true that now I come across him almost every day in the hallway, I cannot help but think of him in that way.

Long story short: Beautiful Silver Hair (coolest nickname ever, thanks Byakuya Sunbeam Togami) told us that Sakakura apparently had found out and even confronted Enoshima publicly, in front of her reserve course lackeys that held her umbrella while it rained. So why didn't he run like the wind to tell his best friend about her role in that mess?

Honestly? I see why he didn't, although I’d still like to kick him in the butt from now to 2050.

Junko had blackmailed him. Be quiet, otherwise...

Otherwise Munakata will discover that you’re in love with him.

Blackmail. A trivial blackmail. Through which Junko Enoshima took the virtual testicles of the possible savior of the world and held them until he said goodbye to any possibility of procreation and saw children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren disappear from his family tree.

It's the day after the student council massacre.

I’m lying on the bed in my room. The diary rests on my thighs, allowing me to use it and even be able to look up at the ceiling when I have to search for the right words to write.

Think about it, Kyouko. The crossroad you have reached now is perhaps the most important junction of all.

As far as you remember from Munakata's account, the confrontation between Enoshima and Sakakura under the tears of the kami (...please Kyouko, stop, you’re not Touko) took place when the Parade already started. And despite the tight deadline, the good day could be today. It seems that the Ultimate Despair has moved very quickly and some groups of reservists are already organizing a march to protest against the school’s leadership. Okay, actually not today because it doesn't rain. I made my point.

How can you use the situation to your advantage?

The important thing is to pry the blackmail lever from Enoshima’s hands. Logic says that, if she has nothing to hold his family jewels, Sakakura will be more than happy to blurt out what he knows about her. The problem is how to take away this lever, since there are at least a couple of elements against me. First of all, Juzou Sakakura has an image to defend and if it turns out that he’s gay the scandal would be remarkable, not even considering the ostracism and discrimination the category still suffers today; secondly, judging from a few things I snooped at the Foundation, I came to the conclusion that the esteemed Kyousuke Munakata is head over heels in love with Chisa Yukizome, therefore he has heterosexual tendencies and the poignant declaration of love wouldn’t be corresponded. Given that they have known each other for years and years, and considering the notoriously fickle personality of the former deputy chief, it’s reasonable to think that what is true in 2021 was/will be true in 2010.

Talking face to face with our favorite boxer is a potentially viable possibility, but bear in mind that I just can't reveal to him how I’m aware of all this.

Imagine the scene: “Yo Juzou, how are you doing? A little bird told me that Enoshima, like the malnourished harpy she is, is holding you by the balls with her teeth. Do you need a hand to shake her off?”

The result? A very probable punch on my face, followed by a phone call to the nearest psychiatric hospital if I went mad and told him how I know what I know. I’m still too young to wear an eyepatch and in any case, even if I tried, I wouldn’t have Kuzuryuu’s charisma as a mafia boss.

Therefore I’d exclude this option. Besides, doing so wouldn’t help me achieve the goal I set for myself. If the prospect of the destroyed school hasn't deterred him, what argument can I use without having to go into the gory details of time travel?

Okay, that option is out of the window.

What is the crux of the situation?

The fact that Munakata doesn't know and that Sakakura would do anything, even allow a pink-haired crazy woman to overturn Kibougamine, to keep him from finding out.

So I must forcefully remove this obstacle.

I have to make Munakata find out.

…

Uh, wait.

Another stroke of genius.

As a detective, I’ve always been particularly astonished by the fact that Enoshima left the sauna without cameras during our Killing Game. Come on Junko, such a blunder from an otherwise diabolical mastermind like you?

Then, when she revealed herself in all her chaotic glory at the end of the sixth trial, some of her behaviors took on a different light. Did the sauna have no security cameras? It was her peculiar way to fight boredom, giving us a refuge beyond her control where we could plot in peace. Amaze me, fools.

I wonder: why can't I make my move appear as hers? Why, for example, not inform Munakata by passing the source as coming from Enoshima herself?

Theoretically it can work, she’s able to elaborate such a thought. Maybe in my past she didn't do it because not even she wanted this big of a spanner in the works and preferred to ensure the success of the project, but I don’t doubt she could have come up with something like this. I’ve seen her do things that are at least as absurd.

You may be wondering why I thought about this. What there’s to gain if I make the news come straight from the worst half of the Despair Sisters. Perhaps nothing, it’s true, but it could be a good way to make the Boxer talk faster.

Um.

The more I think about it, the more the genius is lost on me.

I’ll think about it.

The basic backbone is still valid though. Getting the news to Munakata, whether it's in the name of Enoshima or not (that doesn't matter at the moment), and bringing out Sakakura's situation.

…

A sudden realization hits me.

Darnit. In theory it works, but I didn't consider...

Okay, I’ll wait to hear Naegi-kun's opinion on this, because I'm sure it’ll be the first point he’ll come up with when I present my plan to him.

“Look at the bright side, Kyouko. You have the semblance of a program. Obviously you aren’t sure of its success, the variables are many, but at least you aren’t still lost on the raft in the middle of a tropical storm.”

...yes, I just imagined that my diary came to life and said these words to me. I'm not alright, am I? Oh well, I have a good Freudian excuse for hearing voices that don't exist.

I grab my cellphone and text Naegi, asking if he has time to stop by. I’ll sound ridiculous saying this, but I miss WhateverApp.

After four minutes he’s knocking on my door. I welcome him with a small smile.

“Did you want to talk to me about something, Kirigiri-san?” he begins upon entering. He goes to sit on my bed very naturally. I sit next to him, just as naturally.

“Actually yes, I wanted to. Do you remember yesterday, when we separated? I mentioned that something had occurred to me…”

“Yes, I remember it all right. Have you come to a conclusion?”

“I did and I want to know what you think. Kamukura's suggestion finally paid off and I found a foothold to lock on. Or rather, someone to lock on.”

“Really? Who?”

“Juzou Sakakura.”

His face takes on an expression surprised and frightened at the same time: “The head of security? What does he have to do with this?”

“I guess you don't know his personal history, so I'm afraid I have to summarize it briefly. Forgive me if I’ll be boring, but I must make you understand well. Sakakura is a former class 74th member of this same school and had the title of Ultimate Boxer. While he attended, he met and made friends with Chisa Yukizome, you should know who she is, and Kyousuke Munakata. Friendship so strong and deep that at the Foundation, before the Final Killing Game, we called them The Doronbo Gang. They kept in close contact after graduation, so much so that following the victory of the world title he gave up everything and came to work here on behalf of his buddy. Munakata smelled something rotten at Kibougamine, far more so than in Denmark, and I wouldn't be surprised if she's here as his operative too. So far so good, everything is fine. A problem arises when it comes to the sentimental aspect, because I guess it’s difficult for such a long-term friendship not to lead to something different.”

He interrupts: “Sorry, but how does this serve the purpose of the explanation?”

He's doubtful and I understand why. Let me finish, please: “It does. More than you think.”

“Okay, I trust you. Sorry and go ahead.”

“Thank you. There’s a reason for this: contrary to what you might assume, the center of the love triangle isn't Yukizome. It’s Munakata.”

He rolls his eyes: “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Sakakura is in love with him, not her.”

“But what does it matter?”

“In an ideal world it doesn’t. He would be free to try and win him over, probably failing because in my future Munakata only has eyes for the lone female member of the trio. Unfortunately it’s essential when it becomes a source of blackmail. And not from anybody, but from Junko Enoshima.”

“W-What?”

“Long story short, somehow Sakakura has found out or will come to find out what our favorite psychopath is up to and in theory he should run and report it but, as you probably have guessed, she has learnt about this thing and uses it or will use it as a lever to obtain his silence. If you dare to tell him anything, I’ll let everyone in the whole world know that you love him. Do you understand why, from the time I came, he didn't lift a finger to stop it?”

He darkens, nodding heavily: “I do understand, yes. A specimen of machismo like him revealed as gay, with all its consequences... and the possible negative reaction of Munakata-san, at this point I’d dare to say probable if you tell me that he allowed all this to keep it secret... no, it doesn't surprise me at all. So? What are you going to do?”

Okay, it’s do or die. Because I'm moderately sure he'll have to complain.

Not gonna waste time dancing around it, better be direct: “Well, I thought I'd make Munakata find out. By doing so, I'd remove from Enoshima's hands the instrument she uses to prevent him from speaking.”

And there he is. The not-at-all happy Naegi-kun I predicted: “I see, but... Kirigiri-san... there’s a problem…”

I sigh inwardly. I had prepared for this on purpose.

“What kind of problem?” Maybe playing dumb isn't the best move, but I want to hear what he tells me.

“The problem is... you’d end up ruining Sakakura-san's life... there must be a reason why he never wanted to tell him about it…”

You don’t say. I had perfectly foretold his grievances.

Okay, let’s get it on: “I know and you're right. Believe me, I'm not happy with that. I really am not.”

“So…”

“So I have to do it anyway.”

“But... but why? You... you can't…”

“It’s not a matter of can, it’s a matter of must.”

Silence. I see him… disappointed. Balking.

I wasn't expecting anything different.

I continue: “Naegi-kun, listen to me. Sakakura’s secret is pretty much the only thing standing between Junko Enoshima and her thunderous fall from a position of power. I understand that, considering the way you are, you see what I said as a bad thing. And I can't blame you even if I wanted to, I'm not proud of my ploy. I’ve explored other possibilities, including going to speak to him directly, but none are as effective and straight to the point as this one. And anyway they wouldn’t be less harmful to everyone's favorite boxer. Now, I hope you understand that a single life doesn’t weigh as much as those of almost the entirety of humanity. Besides, I’m not proposing to you to kill him, I’m only saying that his love will presumably be sacrificed on the altar of a greater good. I’ll say it again, it’s not something that makes me particularly happy, but you know what they say: the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one, to quote perfectly. Who knows, maybe those two can somehow settle the matter after a private chat? See, even if we do this it doesn’t mean the problem can’t be mended at all. I must be clear on one point: I have limited freedom of movement in this swamp of uncertainties and inaccurate dates. Indeed, as far as I know, it’s already too late now. I didn’t find other alternatives, despite hours of mad and desperate reflection. And you know it, for a good chunk of that time you’ve been sitting next to me. I'm not asking you to like it, I know you’d never be able to. I’m just asking you not to hinder me, please.”

“W-Why...?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Why… did you tell me about it? Why didn’t you... act behind my back?”

This blows me away, seriously. Did he really believe that I could do this to him? After everything I told him about our Killing Game and how I’ve done things that I’m still regretting today? Do you think I’m so unfair, Naegi-kun?

“Are you serious?” I ask, one or two octaves higher than normal “Let me get this straight. You expected me to do everything on my own, without telling you anything… after I was the one who brought you up? Do you have such a low opinion of me? You’re my partner and in my past I already did something awful against you, I don’t intend to repeat that mistake. You needed to be made aware of the current situation in all its aspects. The time when Kyouko Kirigiri didn’t trust Makoto Naegi is gone and will never come back.”

He smiles as he hears me say such a thing. I‘m relieved. Unfortunately it lasts just a flash and he immediately gets sad again: “Thank you… for your honesty. But I still… find this thing... cruel…”

“Cruel is maybe too strong a word, even if I see the reason why you define it that way. As I explained to you, it’s not the end of the world, neither for Sakakura nor Munakata. It’ll undoubtedly cause damage, but it isn’t something absolutely irreparable. The opposite is, irreparable or almost. Believe me that I’d be much happier, as well as satisfied from a professional point of view, if I were in Sakakura's shoes and I had the evidence he has. Since I'm from 2021, Enoshima might threaten me with the slower and more painful death she’s capable of but she wouldn’t get nothing from me. I'd be putting that stuff on my father's desk right now. Alas, that's not the case. He's the one holding the proof, not me. He’s the only one able to take that step and be believed. And therefore I must give him the nudge he needs to get out of the impasse.”

Not enough. What I just said isn’t enough.

That frowning look hurts me exactly as I imagined: “Kirigiri-san... I don't have... the rhetorical means to... counter what you say... I know that... you have thought about it... and if you tell me that you haven’t come to a different conclusion... I know it’s true… but despite all this… I… I just can't like it… I feel bad about it…”

I… I… damn, I didn't think he would react like THIS. His sad face forcibly takes me back to the conclusion of the fifth trial, albeit in a very different context. His most total and unsettling amazement when we saw him dragged away and put on that conveyor belt... something in me broke in those moments. And it's breaking again now.

Don't... don't do this to me, Naegi-kun. I’ve suffered enough then, I don't need an encore.

“Kyouko, whose fault is it? Who is it that is hurting him like this, after having hurt him just as badly when he was found guilty of the death of a masked Mukuro Ikusaba?”

…

Okay, brain. I see your game. Let's pretend I have an interlocutor to discuss with.

It was me, both times. Why do you think I'm here writhing in remorse?

“I'm not saying you're doing it willingly. I’m perfectly aware that in both cases, even more so now than in the past, you’ve been forced to act in this way. The fact remains that you’re the cause of his discomfort.”

Thank you very much Captain Obvious, I already knew it myself. What do you want? Twist the knife in the wound?

“Have you thought about apologizing to him?”

Haven't I already done it implicitly?

“Do it explicitly, then.”

...fine.

I stare at him, moving his head to allow his eyes to meet mine: “I can't help but apologize for causing you all this, Naegi-kun. The only other alternative available to me is to give up, but as I explained earlier I simply can’t. I’m dismayed, believe me truly dismayed to be guilty of all this. Can I do something, aside from giving up, to make you feel better? Whatever is in my power."

He's close enough to tears. He must be even more tender of heart than I had anticipated, and I had thought very tender of heart. My finger goes under his eyes to remove the first hints.

“Again, I’m sorry. It really wasn’t my intention. If I could take a different path, I would.”

Then he asks something I didn’t expect: "In the... in the future… would I... would I have reacted like this?”

Easy question, actually. I'm not sure he wants to hear the answer, though.

“Um, well... you see..."

“Don't... beat around the bush, please... tell me... you said you’d do... anything…”

“Uff. Yes, I said that. But you won't be happy to hear it.”

“Tell me... just the same…”

I didn't remember him being so masochistic. Because I think he guessed the answer and he knows it won't do him any good, as it is now.

“In my future… mh, how much I don't like what I'm about to say. In my future you’d have looked at me disapproving on a theoretical level and granting your blessing on a practical level. Makoto-kun is a lot like you, more than you probably imagine, but the important thing that separates you two is that he has learned against his will to take the steps that need to be taken to combat despair. Not that I'm blaming you for it, I knew it would go like this and there's nothing wrong with that. On the contrary, it's part of your charm and part of the reason why… why I…”

Luckily I manage to stop myself in time.

Yeah, sure. Tell him. What’s the big problem if you do?

What the actual hell were you thinking, Kyouko? You were really about to say that you’re in love with his twenty-seven year old version. Do you have a vague idea of the mess you would create, in his head and in his emotions? Especially now, when he’s more unstable than ever.

To be the possible savior of the world, you’re a little too prone to avoidable gaffes.

“Why you...?” he asks, curiosity evident on his face.

“Nothing. You don’t need to know.”

“Mmmmmmmh.” Where does that smug face come from, kid?

“What's up?”

“Oh no, nothing. I just think I’ve realized something important.” He laughs, much more relaxed than thirty seconds ago. He still isn’t completely alright, I can see it in his eyes, but perhaps the worst has come and gone. Then he clears his throat and resumes in a more serious tone: “Returning to the question I asked you, I think I understand the attitude of the future me. Because of what you have lived, he has smoothed a little the excessive sides of what on the outside probably passes for extreme naivety, even if as you wisely pointed out it’s part of my charm. I have to do the same, huh? Because I really understand that you find yourself with your hands tied and only one way to untie the strings. And even if I don't like it and I’ll never do... I can't help but be by your side in this umpteenth adventure. Every superhero needs his sidekick, right?”

“Right.” I confirm with a smile, happy to see that he finally sees my reasons better. “But now you better understand my speech about the weight of responsibility, right?”

“You bet I do.” he confirms “It’s clear as day that you don’t want to take this route, yet you managed to convince me that there are no alternatives available. It must be very uncomfortable for you.”

“It sure is. But what can you do, I'm here and I’m doing what needs to be done to save as many lives as possible. I've already messed up badly with the student council, I wouldn't forgive myself for a mistake much worse than that.”

“My envy for you is hitting an all-time low.”

“How come that doesn't surprise me at all?”

“Because you’re too smart to do otherwise.”

“I'll just take the compliment. Thank you.”

I like that the air is much more breathable now.

But the question is far from completely resolved: “Have you thought about how you specifically intend to operate, Kirigiri-san?”

“Actually yes, I had half an idea about it. First of all, I thought that we could act discreetly. No announcements on the Kibougamine Weekly with a photo of Koizumi showing Sakakura dressed as a drag queen… and sorry for the poor taste, it was just a bad joke. Excessive, as well as potentially dangerous because it could put Enoshima on alert. We need Munakata to know, not the whole school. We could send an anonymous email, for example.”

A doubt darted on his face: “Um. Do you know how to do it? Because I really don’t.”

“Absolutely not. Sometimes I was tempted to put the computer in the microwave when it didn’t work. I think we have to involve an outsider.”

“Are you talking about Fujisaki-san?”

“I think h… she’s the best candidate for the job.” Again? Really? I was about to let slip that Fujisaki is male. Try to make this stupid mind of yours work properly.

“Could you please take care of this part, Naegi-kun? You're better than me at convincing people.”

“Sure... of course…” Is he dubious?

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s okay. It's just that…”

“What?”

“Well, somewhat exploiting Fujisaki-san... it doesn't fill me with enthusiasm…”

Oh come on, I understand the grievances about Sakakura but these are a bit exaggerated in my opinion: “It’s nothing extreme. She just has to explain to you how you do it. Tell her you want to play a joke on me and send me... I don't know, something silly. A… meme? One of those stupid things that go around the Internet.” I'm twenty-seven, and therefore I fit perfectly into the intended target for these things, but I’ve never understood them and never will.

My reassurance seems to have the desired effect, as that ugly cloud of insecurity swiftly vanishes from his face: “Uh, you're right. Although I'm sorry to drag you into this.”

“Who cares? This joke doesn't really exist and, even if it did, I’m not that touchy.”

“I must say you're really quick to come up with things like this on the spot. I envy you.”

“Not as fast as I’d like. Besides, you can't envy me for this and not envy me for that. Either one or the other.”

“That's the way I feel! Yesterday you were in crisis for what happened with the council and now you have an action plan drawn up and ready to be set in motion. Not everyone can do that, you know.”

God please stop fawning over me like this you embarrass me and you make me feel inadequate for the task I've taken on and I feel even more the weight of failure that hangs over my head stop it stop it stop it.

“Kirigiri-san, are you okay? You're all... oh.”

“What… what is it? My hair is untidy? I stink?” I don't like feeling so upset.

Holy mother and father and son, Makoto Naegi… grins? I swear, that's a grin: “No, nothing. Forget it, it's not important.”

...I'm done. He got it. He knows that, at the very best, I have a crush on his future self. That vaguely evil grin tells me he could use it against me. I’m scared.

“Okay.” I try to get the conversation back on track before my whole face explodes. “I’d say we've drawn up the schedule. Talk to Fujisaki as soon as possible and try to get the hang of that witchcraft.”

“Makoto Naegi is on the job, boss!” he teases me miming the military salute.

Yeah, sure. Mock me to your leisure, I don’t mind.

I shoo him out of my room, chuckling.

Now I just have to wait for his return, as a good obedient dog.

As I throw myself on the bed, an amused smile comes on my lips. Not everyone has romantic upsets like mine while trying to counter such an event.

I… wow.

To say that I didn’t expect today’s development isn’t the understatement of the year, or even of the century. Understatement of the millennium.

What am I ever talking about?

I returned to my room after class, intending to write out the letter to send to Munakata as the first step of my ingenious plan. With me the now inseparable Naegi-kun.

Suddenly a knock on the door.

I opened and…

“Hello, niece! I’m count Dracula!”

My. Gosh. It was Kizakura. Despite the cheerful tone, I recognized the face. It was the face of someone who had an important question to ask.

And when a man like Koichi Kizakura has an important question to ask, the default advice is to prepare first-aid bandages. You’ll easily need them.

“Well, won't you let me in? It isn't nice to make your favorite uncle wait.”

“You’re not my uncle.”

“Of course I’m not. Can I come in now, please?”

What was I supposed to do, leave him standing there? I pulled away to let him enter.

He sat in the first available chair, greeted Naegi and waited for me to sit on the bed. After that, he cleared his throat, coughed in a very fake way and gazed at me like the tip of a spear piercing your chest: “Well well, my dear. I came because you have a lot of things to spit out and I can't wait to hear from you.”

Huh? Is he in an everlasting state of drunkenness? I wouldn’t like to be his liver.

“As it always happens when you’re involved, you’re not making a shred of sense. Would you mind explaining yourself at least a little, please?”

That smile. That broad smile that probably made him lose a lot of teeth: “Come on, don't be the adorable riotous child who always threw a tantrum. Ah Naegi, if you just knew how much effort it cost me to take pictures of her when she was little. You know what I'm talking about, Kyouko.”

“No, I really don’t. Again, please explain yourself.”

“Uff. You like playing tough, huh. All right, I’ve nothing better to do anyway. Just a clue to help your lackluster memory: the day you two came to talk to the principal and the call on the student council came in.”

…

…

…

Motherf…

True, he was there too. That time he was so unusually quiet that I had totally forgotten his presence.

Kyouko Kyouko Kyouko, you know that you’re surrounded by smart people and that they don’t forgive any mistakes. You’re an adult, not an inexperienced girl. You should be better than that.

“So?” I knew I was done for, but I still tried to make his life as difficult as I could.

“Please, must I be the one to say it? You’re not a naive chick.”

“It’s sexist as hell to call me chick, but whatever. I swear I don't know what you're babbling about, old drunkard.”

“You do know. I've seen you grow since you were this tall” he said, making the gesture at the height of his knees “and you can't hope to deceive me. You understand perfectly what I'm referring to.”

He completely got me. I wouldn’t have gotten out of that pickle even if I performed a standing somersault.

“Damn you…”

“What do we have here? A bad girl doing bad things and getting caught. I’m willing to listen to your confession.”

Naegi-kun was scared, he understood where the conversation was heading and apparently he didn't want me to say something compromising. Your worry was cute, but there was no way out. I had to give him what he wanted.

“Are you asking me about the... how should I call it, prophecy?”

“I'm asking you exactly about that, yeah.”

“So I guess you want to know how and why I was aware that the reserve course was going to protest against the academy’s government.”

“Exactly that. At the time I didn’t put much thought into it, even if it was strange to hear it come out of your usually composed lips. But now, with what you can see looking out of the window…”

“Kirigiri-san... are you... are you sure you want to tell him?” my favorite little boy interjected.

“I’m cornered, Naegi-kun. And as you know, what I'm about to reveal to him could bring a disaster. You yourself came very close to unleashing it.”

His face, twisted into an indecipherable grimace, will keep me company in the dull moments: “A disaster? Am I to assume that my favorite niece is involved in something shady?”

“First and foremost: YOU’RE. NOT. MY. UNCLE. Stop it. Secondly: no, nothing shady, unfortunately for you. Just something incredible, in the true sense of the word.”

I had decided to tell him my secret. He's too clever and cunning a man to settle for a lie, I wouldn't have solved anything by lying. Moreover, he caught me off guard and I'm not good at making up an excuse on the spot. It’s also not in my nature as a seeker of truth at all costs.

“Come on, shock me. I'll just let you know: if I should yawn I apologize right now.”

…look at this guy. He comes here to upset my life, as if it wasn't complicated enough at the moment, and he puts up the unshakable act.

So be it. Get ready for a bazooka shot in the face and let's see how you come out of it.

“Are you challenging me, Kizakura?”

“No. I just think it won't be as devastating as you are envisioning it.”

“Then let me tell you.”

“Tell me.”

“What year is it?”

“2010, of course. What stupid question is that?”

“For you two it may be stupid, maybe. Not so much for me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The year is 2010 for me too, of course. Too bad that three weeks ago my answer would have been different.”

“...huh?”

“2021. My answer would have been 2021.”

And then silence. And the vultures on the houses above the city, without mercy.

I swear I heard Naegi's teeth chatter with terror. On the contrary, I was quite calm all things considered. Partly for the reasons described above, partly because I had only said what had happened to me. Personally I think that the truth, even the most terrifying, shouldn’t frighten those who speak it. The reaction of those who listen to them, on the other hand, is an entirely different matter.

An emblematic example is the person who at that moment was observing me with bulging eyes, dilated by at least one and a half times their normal size, while probably wondering the shape and the color of the worms that were slowly munching my brain. Because that was definitely the look of someone who was having a face to face with a madwoman.

Put your yawn back in your throat, didn’t I?

I added insult to injury: “The person in front of you is called Kyouko Kirigiri, but on her last birthday she became twenty-seven. And it happened at our Kibougamine.”

“What does your Kibougamine mean?”

“This centenary institution has its days numbered. If things go as I know, the school will be a pile of smoking rubble in no more than a couple of months. You must know that what is happening outside in the courtyard is just the first stage of what is to come.”

“…”

“Don’t look at me like I'm a three-headed monkey, I'm just telling the truth. My truth, which I hope will not be yours too. A certain person is putting into practice their plans, which among other things include the destruction of this place, the mass suicide of the entire reserve course and a long, long series of crimes heinous beyond belief.”

“...”

“What I just said will be followed by a period of anarchy on a very large scale, which will eventually encompass the entire world. It will basically be armageddon. Ever read an apocalyptic manga? The only difference is it won’t be brought by aliens or robots, but by a high school student.”

"..."

“I’m one of the few survivors of the 78th class. Yep. The angry Oowada? Dead. The honorable Oogami? Dead. The treacherous Ludenberg, also known as Taeko Yasuhiro? Dead. The disciplined Ishimaru? Dead. Should I go on?”

“…”

“I guess you're wondering how many mental disorders are afflicting me right now. And it’s a more than legitimate doubt. My dear granddaughter started eating hallucinogenic mushrooms for breakfast and doesn’t feel alright anymore. I have only one way to prove to you that I'm not lying.”

“...”

“I know everything about Izuru Kamukura, who at the moment should be an unreachable secret for a student like me.”

“...”

“And when I say everything I mean everything, probably more than you. I know Hajime Hinata, the boy who served as the test subject for the experiment. I know Chiaki Nanami and the role her presence played in it all. I’m familiar with the Hope Cultivation Project promoted by this academy’s governing body. A while ago I went to see him. I chatted with him about my problem and, despite his extremely bored attitude, he even managed to be helpful and gave me a good suggestion. You may rightfully want to know what the hell happened and why I'm here now if I'm really from the future. I'd like to answer you but, exactly as it was in his case” and I point to Naegi “my answer is that I don’t have the foggiest idea. The fact is that now this is my place, I hope not definitively, and therefore I find it stupid to sit with my arms folded while I observe history repeating itself, with exactly the same splashes of blood. You would have done that too in my place. Oh yes, you’re much more soft than you show. You even saved my life at the price of yours.”

“...”

“You know for sure that, at least for this last thing, I’m truthful. I'm reading it in your eyes, you don’t feel surprised. And that's because you know you're willing to do it. Even here and now, if needed.”

Hit and sunk, the side being torn apart worse than the Akagi’s during the battle of Midway. I saw him slump against the wall, his face completely whitened, and his hand quickly pulling out the flask, bringing it to his mouth after opening it and dumping all its contents into his throat.

“…I need more whiskey.”

I grinned, taking my just revenge: “He's a minor and technically I’m too, so we can’t help you. But if you want to lower your noble palate to the vulgar taste of beer, Oowada will be of immense help. He keeps at least two cases of Asahi hidden in the cafeteria.”

Finally payback for all his snide remarks.

Now, having fun at Kizakura’s expense was therapeutic. But the problem wouldn't go away just because I laughed about it.

I approached him. I shook him for a moment, trying to revitalize him: “Hey! Hey! Wake up, sleeping beauty. Come back to the world of the living.”

He moved in a sloppy manner but seemed to have regained his basic cognitive faculties: “Oh... yes, yes…”

I helped him get back on his feet, taking the bottle from him as a precaution: “Don't be a bad boy, you must be clear headed.”

“Give it back!”

“I'll fill it with water if you don't stop.”

Horror. The horror on his face.

“You... wouldn't you dare…”

“Not only would I dare, I’d force you to drink it all in front of both of us.”

“Kami... how can you be... so evil?”

“I learned from the best.” I close the discussion by giving him a wink. Then I remembered that it was time for serious things: “Okay. What are you going to do with the information I gave you?”

“That… you say you come from the future?”

“Don't you believe me, Kizakura?”

“I’m struggling, I must be honest.” He remembered the existence of Naegi out of nowhere and, pointing at him casually, deduced: “You told him too then, since he’s not running away screaming.”

My favorite kid gave his trademark baffled gaze and nodded.

“I'll tell you, no wonder you don't believe me. It doesn't happen every day to have a time traveler in front of you. Moreso a time traveler who would be occupying their body at the time instead of having brought their own. But two things should make you understand that I have the mystical power of hindsight: my prediction on the reserve course that is becoming reality just now... and what I told you about Kamukura, which I should not know since I’m supposed to be a poor ignorant student. If you still don't accept the explanation about my knowledge of it, go back to my father to report that the exploration mission has failed miserably and that his daughter should become friends with a straitjacket.”

“What makes you think I’m here on dear Jin’s behalf?”

...this man is good. I felt steadfast on my diamond-encrusted throne as I judged him severely, but all he needed to do was get up and say what he just said to make me tumble down quite violently. You’re gonna pay for surgically reconstructing my nose, you know?

“You’re on your own? Really? From what I recall, you only acted if your owner extended the leash enough.” Wow, that was savage. I felt a little guilty. Just a little bit.

He was dazed for a moment, then recovered very quickly: “Okay, believe it or not, what you just said makes me reconsider the possibility of your time travel. The Kyouko I know would never say such a thing with that punch-inviting smile.”

"I'm not the Kyouko you know." At that moment I asked myself... where is the Kyouko Kirigiri that he knows? The sixteen year old myself?

Food for thought and a later meal.

“Now I can see it better and your words take on a different color. Anyway yeah, I'm really on my own and not on your father's behalf. Which doesn't mean I won't tell him everything sooner or later. More sooner than later, given the magnitude of what you revealed to me.”

Oh. He wanted to tell father.

Okay Kyouko, prepare for impact.

It's been two seconds. Three. Five. Ten. Twenty. Thirty.

Strange. The emotional tidal wave I feared hadn't shown up.

I was afraid that I would feel, in no particular order: the heart rising in the throat, the knees trying to get into the ears, the fingers bending as if they were spoons placed in Uri Geller’s hands, the kidneys starting to headbutt the pancreas screaming. Nothing serious.

But no, I was… calm.

“You're going to tell the principal. Tell him what, exactly?”

“Oh, I don't know. For example, the one who pretends to be her daughter is some kind of impostor.”

"Excuse you? I am Kyouko Kirigiri. I just... neglected to mention my real age.”

“A microscopic detail.”

“Look, I didn’t want this and blaming me for it frankly seems a bit too much. Besides, there are more important things you should tell him instead of this cheap nonsense.”

“Like what?”

“Like the identity of the mind behind it all.”

…

You had to be careful. More cautious than necessary. We were talking about the space-time continuum, or however they call it.

If I had brought Junko Enoshima to the surface in front of Koichi Kizakura, and therefore by proxy in front of Jin Kirigiri… what would that mean?

It would have meant that at least one other person would have acted to try and stop her, I assume. If he wanted to believe what I say, let's not forget that.

But… uh, here's the tsunami. You took your time, you lazy bastard.

Why? Why didn't I want her to tell him about it?

“Kirigiri-san, are you okay? Suddenly you look all flustered!” Naegi-kun asked me. How cute, he couldn't help but meddle just to see if I was alright.

I lifted a thumb from my closed hand to let him know it was okay despite what I was displaying. I just needed to think for a moment.

Or rather, more than thinking I needed to understand why my gallbladder was begging me with all its might to prevent the name from reaching my father's ears.

And the answer...

...

Come on, you know.

…

Come on.

…

Okay, okay. You won.

I didn't want him to risk dying. Again.

Despite everything, despite the residual resentment, despite that ounce of contempt bequeathed to me by my grandfather... I don't want my father dead.

Which degenerate daughter would want it?

I remember like yesterday when Makoto-kun and I found the famous gift box in the secret room of his bedroom. I’m sure that he, naive and a bit gullible as he always has been, didn’t suspect how much I got hurt by the sight of those bones and knowing who they belonged to. I felt like a hard nudge in the breastbone, a strike strong enough to break it and cause you a heart attack. I needed him to go, I couldn't bear to let him see me… cry.

I cried over those bones.

At the time, when I had the worst possible opinion of him.

How could I not do it now, should it happen a second time?

I decided.

“Kizakura.” I turned in his direction and stared at him right in the eyes “You must swear to me that you’re not gonna say a thing to the headmaster. Not until it’s absolutely essential to do so. I tell you this for the sake of your dear Jin. Did I make myself clear?”

He stared back at me. I was genuinely trying to sound as scary and intimidating as I could, but he didn’t budge: “I may do what you’re asking, but in return I pretend to know why.”

“Are you sure?”

“Still playing the same game, Kyouko? It’s getting boring.”

“I'm not in the mood for jokes right now. Do you want to know or you don’t?”

He ran a hand over the side of his face before replying: “Do I look like someone who’s not ready, perhaps? And after the time travel bomb, I'm prepared for the worst things.”

"So I guess you’re ready to hear that Jin Kirigiri was put inside a box, since all that was left of him was a pile of bones.”

A moan from Naegi-kun. I skipped that detail in order to shield him from worst-case scenarios. Kizakura felt that but he was adorably trying to stay stoic: "Holy shit... holy fucking shit…” Yeah, I said he tried to stay stoic and he succeeded in the body language department, not in the vocal one.

“This was our last meeting. For his sake, the longer he stays out of this business, the less likely he is to face the same end. I know you understand what I'm saying.”

“Yes. I understand.”

“Then make sure you comply with this request of mine.”

“Okay… okay. I'll keep all of this to myself.”

"Excellent. Now I guess you'll want to be briefed on the details.”

He nodded. He seemed convinced.

Let me open the doors to hell for you.

We sat down and I began. Actually no, before beginning I looked at Naegi-kun asking him if he was sure he wanted to hear it all again. The first time didn't go very well. But, I have to be honest, the conviction he exuded in answering affirmatively struck me in a totally positive way. It showed me, if it were still needed, that I can rely on him through and through.

Ready. Set. Go.

The first thing was the name of the mastermind behind the world’s end. Junko Enoshima. Kizakura's shocked reaction told me that the roller coaster ride had just begun.

The student council massacre, which he obviously already knew about. The Parade, which we’re experiencing right now. The mass suicide of the reserve course. The proliferation of the Tragedy outside the school. Our Killing Game. Towa City. The Killing Game of the 77th. The Killing Game at the Foundation, which clearly caught his full interest when I told him how he died to save me. And finally the new Kibougamine, where I’m the second figure of authority just behind Mr. Hope himself.

He wasted no time on trifles such as fainting, hysterics and similar nonsense. Apparently he had perceived the most serious seriousness (I was indeed very serious) and considered it appropriate to act accordingly.

“Fucking hell, that’s a whole horror saga…” I silently bid him welcome to my reality.

He could at least have wiped away the sweat, his face was completely wet.

“The most important thing is: do you believe what I just told you?”

The answer came much more faster than I expected: “Yes.”

“You seemed rather skeptical before.”

“And in part I still am. But I recognized your tone. It was the same one you used last year, when you told me face to face that you hate Jin. I've never seen you so grim and focused again, at least until now.”

...did I really do such a thing? I didn't remember it. At fifteen I exposed myself like that by manifesting a feeling as powerful as hatred? The discovery amazes me on several levels.

“Quantify the percentage of you who believes in my funky story.”

“Mh. If I had to say... seventy-five percent, more or less.”

“Given the premises, I can be largely satisfied.”

“I think you underestimated my ability to adapt.”

“Put yourself in my shoes and ask yourself why.”

“I admit I understand your qualms.”

There was a moment of peace. Naegi has always been not at ease in topical moments of this kind if he doesn't have a concrete contribution, so I understood his keeping on the sidelines; Kizakura seemed to be waiting for input from me, as if he considered me the general who has to give orders to the troops; for my part, I... gee, great time to be distracted Kyouko. I just couldn't help but think about the sixteen year old myself at that moment. Being brought to the surface had stimulated the most annoying and inconvenient part of my innate curiosity.

I needed to concentrate.

“Okay, now you roughly know what the next few months will bring. I’ve told you everything I personally know as history, but you’re smart enough to understand that I‘ve found myself in the enviable position to change the course of events. And I did that, among other things with the visit to my father's office. Naegi and I had introduced ourselves to inform him of the imminent massacre of Murasame and associates, although unfortunately we moved too late.”

He gave me an annoyed look: “Don't do it.”

“What shouldn't I do?”

“Blame yourself for what has already happened. I know you.”

“Too late for that.”

“Stop it then.”

“It's not something that I can simply leave by the side of the road, you know?”

“I guess not. But you’re aware how much it represents an obstacle on your path.”

“Of course I'm aware of it! You have a lot of nerve to judge me from your privileged position.”

“Privileged? Not anymore now. Now I'm part of this, not as much as you are but at least as much as Naegi. And since you two have recently become inseparable…”

“You want to join us?”

“Why not? Consider what benefits I could bring to your cause: someone definitely better positioned than you for… I don't know, snooping around and asking compromising questions to the principal or even to the big bosses. I’d be your mole where having one is vital.”

It wasn't a trivial consideration in the end. And in fact, if he's at least half as good as me at sticking his head where it shouldn't be, it may be that he comes up with something useful.

“Normally I’d have rejected your proposal. Hazardous and without any certainty of success. But the water is rising rapidly towards my throat and I’d like to keep my ability to breathe. Therefore I accept the offer. Wait, don't take out the spare flask to celebrate… you think I didn’t know that you have at least three on your person at any single moment? You should know one thing: before your inopportune visit, Naegi-kun and I were about to get down to business on the plan.”

"Oh. You have a plan. Well done.”

“She has a plan, I'm just... mh, let's say I’m moral support.”

“Come on Naegi-kun, you’re much more than that.”

“T-Too nice, Kirigiri-san…”

“That's the truth.” No. I used the Sixty-Four Teeth™ Smile. Not that there's anything wrong with the act itself, I just didn't want to throw further fuel on the fire of our… how to define it, suspended? Uncertain? Impossible? The situation between us on the sentimental side, that's it.

Jeez, enough with the wandering thoughts. Concentrate.

“Let's get back on track, Kizakura. You had to be informed of this fact to make you understand that your help is certainly appreciated, but not strictly necessary at the moment. However, take a look around all the same.”

“I will, my dear. But if I may…”

I smiled, I knew what he was going to ask: “You want to know about the plan.”

“Actually yes, I’d like to. If I’m now part of this conspiracy, it seems unkind to leave me in the dark about the important things.”

It wasn’t an unreasonable request.

“What do you say, Naegi-kun? Shall we tell him?”

“Why... are you asking me?”

“Who should I ask? It’s you and me. I admit that I already have half an idea, but I think it's fair that you have your say too.”

“Well, he's not wrong when he says he should know what we were coming up with…”

“I think so too.”

“Perfect. I love it when people comply with my wishes. So, your amazing plan?”

“We were about to send an anonymous email to Munakata.”

Too bad I’m not one of those mobile phone photos’ freaks, otherwise he would have ended up on Iptagram at the speed of light with that stupid face.

“Sorry, what? An anonymous email… to Munakata? Why?”

“There’s a detail that you still don't know: Juzou Sakakura had, or should I say will have, the chance to stop Junko and her evil project of devastation in the bud. Or maybe not really in the bud, but still be able to put a muzzle big enough to make her almost harmless in the long run. If he had acted, a good ninety percent of what I told you wouldn’t have happened. It’s just that…”

“What’s the problem?”

“She blackmailed him. Don’t say a word to anyone about what I’m about to tell you. Our favorite boxer has a ten year old crush on the silver-haired man. She threatened to let the cat out of the bag far and wide and managed to silence him. Because I’m quite convinced, as my past testifies, that he really was the only obstacle that presented itself in front of her. Fortunately I'm here too now.”

The awe was evident in Kizakura. It was understandable, seeing the Doronbo Gang you’d say that the two hunks both drool over Yukizome's (notable) assets, and instead…

“Wait a minute, Kyouko. Did I get it wrong or a secret crush is what saved Enoshima's ass and allowed her to destroy the world?”

“Yes, basically. You can imagine for yourself the scandal of learning that a macho like the former world light heavyweight champion is in love with another man. Besides, you and father find it hard to keep it hidden, right?” My mental laugh exploded like a firecracker all by itself. Koichi Kizakura really brings out the worst side of me. Or maybe it's the best and I'm too polite to admit it.

He looked at me stiffly, I was undecided if he was angry or not. Then he burst laughing out loud: “You're not the Ultimate Detective for nothing. How did you find out? I don't think I left any anal retractors in the principal's office…”

“Yaugh! Can you please refrain?”

“Okay okay. Back to being serious. I understand what you say about Juzou. And let me see if I understand even more: with your anonymous email you want to make Kyousuke aware of it, thus removing the blackmail lever from Junko.”

He's smart and crafty. He’ll be a great addiction to the team.

“Let me point out a flaw.” he continues “You tell Kyousuke. Okay, cool. And then what? What do you think he’s gonna do, go to Juzou and hang him on the wall to make him confess? I know him, it won't happen. Indeed, he’ll probably brand that as spam from a hacker with too much time on their hands. You neglected one essential thing.”

“What?”

“Juzou’s awareness. The fact that Munakata gets informed is useful, but not sufficient. You know what? I'll take care of this part.”

“...sorry, I'm not following you.”

“You just have to give me some information, if you have it.”

“What kind of information?”

“Since you seemed pretty accurate, at least about the really important events, do you have a vague idea of when Junko will blackmail Juzou?”

“Actually yes, I do. Not the exact day, but I know it’ll be raining at that moment. And, if the diary wasn't lying, it’ll happen when the two are surrounded by a good number of reserve course's students under Enoshima’s thrall.”

“Good to know. I'll make sure to be there and face him, I still have to decide if directly or not, pointing out to him that keeping it a secret is useless because Kyousuke is already aware of it.”

“Are you going to go face to face with him... in front of Enoshima and her people?”

“Are you crazy? I'll keep snuggled up and pop out like a Pokémon from the tall grass at the right time.”

“I see. It seems to me a much more clever way of acting.”

“I'm still alive for a reason, my dear.” He giggled, managing to take Naegi-kun with him too. I’d have liked to be able to say that I’m immune to it, but in the end I quite like Kizakura and I see his qualities. So if before there were two laughing, now there are three laughing.

After we stopped laughing I dismissed him, pointing out that the day of judgment was near and that he better be ready for any eventuality. When he had the audacity to answer that he didn't want to have anything to do with liquid robots and bodybuilders that tell you with an Austrian accent to follow them if you want to live, the kick in the butt I gave him was more than deserved.

Left alone, Naegi and I exchanged a look… full of hope. Things finally seemed to go the right way, the unsolicited but timely intervention by Kizakura was solving a lot of problems and we just had to pray for a little luck. Kami, please, be benevolent for once. For God's sake, I think I deserve it with all the crap thrown at me.

“Let's hope so, Kirigiri-san.”

“You don't even have a clue how much I hope too, Naegi-kun. Come on, now let's dedicate ourselves to the letter for Munakata.”

Here we are. Here we are. Here we are.

Today it's raining. And from what I’ve heard, the reserve course is particularly active and loud.

The joking definition I fed Kizakura when I chased him out of my room now weighs on my shoulders. Because, as far as I'm concerned, this is really the day of judgment.

Today we’ll see whether Junko Enoshima will be able to boast the title of Destroyer of the World, for the short time she still has to live. And if this crazy, senseless adventure in which I found myself entangled in for a month now made sense or was it just the cruel joke of some deity... not even spiteful, just bitchy. I don't like to cuss, you know, but in this case I find it more than justified.

I quickly go to retrieve Naegi-kun from his room, finding him lying in his pajamas while reading One Part.

…

I love you, kid. But for all that’s holy, be more ready than that next time.

I give him a minute to change, then I go out and lean against the wall to wait for him.

TAP TAP TAP TAP. My shoe hitting the plaster.

I'm nervous. No, nervous doesn't cover even a fiftieth of the adrenaline and anxiety running through my veins right now. I don't like feeling like this, I’ve always hated it. What I once considered my grandfather taught me as a first lesson that a detective's primary skill is detachment.

That was when I didn’t know it all about him, about how he felt satisfied when I told him that my father, his son, was dead. I'm really happy to have disowned him, he doesn't deserve anything. Just to die mocked by mosquitoes and flies.

Finally he comes out. It took you a minute and forty-seven seconds, you sloth. C’mon, we're in a hurry.

“Kirigiri-san, sorry for…”

“I don't care let's go marsch.” I grab him by the wrist and drag him out, I realize a little abruptly but I'm just too agitated to care.

"You’re breaking my hand, Kirigiri-san!”

“You have another one.”

“Too… too fast! Slow down a moment, please!”

“No.”

“I don't even have an umbrella!”

"We'll both get wet.”

Now I don't even have time to regret these nasty words. When the storm subsides I’ll apologize, I promise.

So. Kizakura told me to go to the faculty building area, because there he’d tackle Sakakura. Dripping wet, we manage to hide in a bush not too far from the entrance to the building where I’ve always seen Sakakura enter in the last month. Which logically should mean that he'll come back again.

Okay, now it's just a matter of waiting and…

BEEP.

What? A message on the cellphone? Right now?

Anonymous sender.

I open it.

Kyouko darling, you sure you're the Ultimate Detective? I’m asking because you can be seen very well from my hiding spot.

I'll kill him, sooner or later. I swear I'll kill him.

Unfortunately I'm not fast enough to stop Naegi from reading it. His smile is nothing short of karmic, a sign that I deserved it. And I don't deny it, I deserved it.

Okay, okay. You had your fun with Kirigiri the Sad Clown, now let's think about something more serious.

We wait.

And we wait.

And we wait.

And we wait.

You're taking your time, big dumb boxer. Go ahead, who cares about the fate of I don’t know how many millions, if not directly billions, of people.

Then he finally arrives.

...God, I didn't think it was possible but I feel like I'm having a panic attack.

I look at my hands. I tremble like a Parkinson's patient.

Luckily my lovely partner grabs me by the shoulders and manages to calm me down.

Zen breath, Kyouko. Zen breath.

If only I could give him a kiss of thanks… no, this isn’t the time. Nor it’ll ever be.

Kizakura reveals himself, seemingly out of nowhere. I thought I was good at hiding, but seeing him in action makes it clear I'm probably still too inexperienced.

“Juzou, old scoundrel! What a coincidence to meet here. Are you going to talk to Munakata, by any chance?” From the way he moves, I notice that he too is a bit apprehensive. I don't know if it’s because he fears he’s about to get a big hard punch right on the nose or if it’s for the success of the mission he has taken on. Let’s hope it’s the second one.

“Kizakura… I didn't notice you, sorry…”

“What is it? You don’t look okay. You fine?”

“Sure, everything is… fine…”

“You’re a terrible liar. You wouldn’t fool that harebrained niece of mine.”

...

I must have missed the moment when they hung a sign on my back with the words “Please, make fun of me as you please”. A chuckle to my left makes me understand that this is going to be a looooooooooooong day, for more than one reason.

“The fuck you say? I'm fine.”

“No, you aren’t. And it just so happens that I know why.”

Are you really charging like a bull during a bullfight?

Kizakura, I’m asking you, for all that’s good in the world: don't screw this up because you can’t contain yourself. I beg of you.

“You just had a very intimate and hot tête-à-tête with Junko Enoshima, right? And she, despite being just a student, made you experience the most intense and painful pegging of your life.”

“I… I don't even know what you're talking about…”

“You do, you rascal. Your initial intention was to nail her to her responsibilities in regards to the accidents that occurred here in the academy in the last period. Did you want to impress Kyousuke?”

That bewitching smile… do you really want to botch it all up when I'm this close from the goal? I feel the urge to go out and slap him, but for the umpteenth time my personal angel with the ahoge intervenes and brings me back to sanity.

I don't know what I’d do without you.

“I don’t know why I’m wasting time with you. You probably are drunk. Goodbye and see you never, hopefully.” Sakakura tries to cut short the conversation, making the movements to get away. In a flash Kizakura is in front of him again, now with a straight face: “You're not going anywhere. You and I have something to talk about.”

He incredibly manages to intimidate him. A little bit is certainly thanks to his efforts, but the Boxer himself helps. He’s visibly shaken, he sweats even though the temperature is low and he looks like someone who’s going to the dentist to have the most decayed tooth in the history of decayed teeth removed.

“What do you want from my life? I have to go talk to Munakata. Disappear once and for all.”

“I’ll oblige when I’ll be sure that you’ll tell him what really happened with Junko and not a lie. That lie will have dire consequences for a disproportionate amount of people.”

"Huh? Did they put meth in your whiskey?”

“Never been better. I’m sober and determined to make you do the right thing. Juzou, listen to me: I can't explain why, but I know everything that happened a little while ago between you and Junko. I know she blackmails you because she doesn’t want you to denounce her to your beloved buddy. But by doing so she has free rein, and I guess you know enough about her to understand that giving free rein to such a person isn’t very wise. You have a good reason to stay silent, I know that too. You’re… in love with him, aren't you?”

He leaves the dramatic pause, so the other man can blatantly horrify.

“From your reaction I deduce that I’ve hit the mark. So this is really why you just decided, or maybe you’re still deciding, to seal your lips and report to him that Junko Enoshima is innocent. This isn’t how it should be. I’ll say it again, my source is confidential but trustworthy and has summarized doomsday scenarios that I’ll avoid to tell you in detail because you already feel bad enough. Forgive me for being straight to the point, but there’s only one possible dam for the wave of death and devastation that is about to hit us all... and that dam is you.”

On Sakakura's part there’s only silence. Silence and the open mouth that reminds me of a freshly caught trout.

“Do you really want to be the cause of everything that is going to happen in the next few months? Because, believe me, what you've seen so far is just the appetizer. For example, do you remember the gentlemen who flanked Junko during your tête-à-tête? In a few days she’ll order them to commit suicide en masse. And they’ll obey. Oh right, the student council. Who do you think it was that gave them the weapons and the motivation to kill each other? That's right, Junko Enoshima. A class will come to wall itself inside the school because it was already degenerating outside... not knowing that the real problem was still there with them. The thing will then scale up to encompass the entire nation. It’ll be anarchy. There’ll be guerrillas, deadly beatings in the street, disfiguring of monuments. Institutions will collapse like towers of Jenga, it won’t be survival of the fittest but the most ruthless. Innocents will die by the thousands at the very least. I guess you’ve read about that virus that recently hit East Africa and how virulent and dangerous but thankfully contained, at least for now, it is. Here, visualize what would happen if it spread like wildfire across the entire globe. What's his name again? COVAL, CORVUS…”

“COVID.”

"Right. Junko's influence will work in exactly the same way, a kind of unmanageable mental illness infectious to almost inhuman levels, from which practically no one can claim to be immune. Do you want this? Just because you’re afraid of the consequences of a possible public disgrace of your sexuality? I know you're not quite the compassionate type, but you wouldn't go that far either.”

He gives him a breather, I presume to let him reflect on his last words. Personally I approve of the strategy, mentioning the tragic and devastating ramifications that this act of his will have seems to me a good way of convincing him.

Unfortunately it doesn’t seem to have the desired effect, because Sakakura crosses his arms over his chest (an evident sign of restlessness and desire to defend himself) and replies in kind: “I don't give a damn about all this. Kyousuke doesn’t know and will never know of my shameful sexual inclinations towards him and you won’t convince me to tell him. Not now, nor in a thousand years.”

That mocking smile again. Koichi Kizakura, be a good drunkard. Please, don't ruin it.

“What if I told you that he already knows about it?”

The head of security goes pale like a rag too washed: “What... what... what?”

“That's right. My source briefed him on this. Your dear Kyousuke already knows that you’d like to slip into his underpants, you really can't do anything about that. We weren't happy to use this strategy, but we didn’t have other options. It was necessary to remove all the obstacles that allow Junko to blackmail you, which were precisely his ignorance and your reluctance to reveal it. Once the first thing has been eliminated, only the second remains. Make it easier for me, come on.”

“M-Maybe I didn't make myself clear. I. WON’T. SAY. IT!”

“You will, I assure you. Because I know you well enough, deep down you don't want what I mentioned to happen. Least of all because of your inaction. Yes Juzou, it’d be all your fault, from the first to the last corpse. In the future you’ll realize, even if you already know now, that it could all have been avoided. Everything, nothing excluded. Starting with the more than two thousand students of the reserve course, whose days are numbered. I'll make the situation clearer if needed: right now you’re holding the detonator of an antimatter bomb powerful enough to make planet Earth go kaboom. It’s up to your conscience and your ethics to decide whether to press that button or not.”

Sakakura has the face of a lost puppy, which is a good sign. It means that Kizakura's words have at least partially touched some exposed nerves. Let's put it this way: that's certainly not the face of someone who doesn't believe at all what he has just been told.

Come on uncle Koichi, push forward. The opponent staggers and perhaps he’s about to give up. A nice Cyclone Uppercut and the KO count will certainly come to ten.

“You... you’re asking me to throw my life away... do you realize that?”

“Yup. I understand that it’s a painful choice, far from easy for you. I’m aware of it. But I’m also aware of the consequences if you don’t listen to me. I told you, you must choose. Either you’ll tell the truth to Kyousuke... or you’ll give Junko Enoshima the detonator you now have in your hand, and she won’t hesitate to activate it while laughing.”

“You… you have no idea what you're asking me to do…”

“To not be a pussy, that's what I'm asking you. Will you be laughed at and frowned upon by the whole school because you’re gay? It’s unfortunately possible. Do you know what that would mean, though? That there’s still a school that can mock you instead of a smoldering pile of rubble. Besides, no one is saying there can't be a threesome between you two and Yukizome…”

Oh man, that's right. Yukizome. I completely forgot that Enoshima was able to put her hands on her too, brainwashing her as she brainwashed the 77th. It’ll be something to think about during the epilogue, if we have an epilogue that will allow it.

“How the fuck you dare to make such idiotic jokes? You don’t how it feels to sigh like a schoolgirl in love after your best friend, who however has the misfortune of being of the same sex.” Mh, be careful Kizakura. You’re about to enter a minefield, proceed with caution.

“Pfffffftahahahahahahah. He thinks I don’t know. Look at these cheeky young people!”

“Nani?”

“I don’t care if you don’t believe me, Juzou, but I understand this plight all too well.”

“You almost don’t understand basic algebra!”

“Oh no no no no no no. I really do understand. I am homosexual. And still alive despite all.”

Wow. Are you opening up about yourself? Brave, I admit it.

Sakakura takes a step back, surprised to say the least: “You… you’re kidding…”

“No sir. I’m homosexual. How did I resist the social stigma? By ignoring it. The words whispered behind your back and the malevolent glances of others have power only if you allow them. Loving someone who has a penis like you do is no shame, in and of itself. It just means that, sexually speaking, you‘re a little different from the vast majority. That's all.”

“Yeah, but… you talk this way… just because you've never come out publicly. In my case it will happen.”

“First of all, it doesn’t necessarily have to happen. For now you, I, Kyousuke and my source are the only ones aware of it. None of those I have listed has the slightest intention of making it public. But let's consider the worst case, that is. It really does happen and the news becomes known to all. My advice as an experienced gay is to shrug it off until they get tired and move on to the next gossip. So, as you can see…”

“Who cares about other people! My only concern is Munakata’s reaction!”

“Of course, you worry about him. How he might react. I’m honestly unable to tell you what might happen, although it’s not fair of me to rule out the possibility that he may reject you on a sentimental level. It’s risky. But I know Kyousuke enough to say that even if he doesn’t want you as a bedmate, he won't start to ignore your existence. You’ll always be his most trusted collaborator and friend. I realize it isn’t what you want, but at least this thing won’t be a secret anymore and will have been resolved in some way. Better than now, don't you think? Furthermore, I’d like to remind you of a very important point: if you cover for Junko now, when will you have time to talk about it? While you and him avoid a bazooka shot? The world is far from perfect now, but at least it stands up. It’ll crumble into almost nothingness if the detonator changes hands.”

I see uncertainty in the boxer once more. He’s about to concede. Go on, one last hook.

“Juzou, I’ll ask you once again: would you like to be remembered as the person who saved the world or as the one who allowed it to end? What do you think is the right thing to do?”

“...”

"Do you want to be able to resolve the unfortunately possible crisis with Kyousuke? Tell him that Junko Enoshima has to rot in jail. Would you rather keep your shameful secret hidden despite what you now know? Get ready to risk your life every other day, and in your spare time to count the corpses that will pile up next to you.”

I feel that pressing on the point of a clarification with Munakata is the right way. Show him, double K.

My new favorite uncle (...I admit he deserves it, for what he’s doing right now) raises his palms in front of him and begins to emulate a scale, one of those old-fashioned ones with saucers: “What holds more weight?”

The tension can be cut with a breadstick. Too much, a whiff suffices.

Finally, after seconds as long as geological ages, Sakakura says: “…okay. You convinced me.”

It's a moment.

A single tear.

It runs down my cheek, falling on the back of the right hand that I had placed on my knees. You know how it is, I was in a crouched position.

I… maybe…

“You did it, Kirigiri-san!” Naegi-kun enthusiastically whispers, hugging me.

Easy, kid. If you get too forceful we’ll roll out of the bush, he’ll catch us and it all goes to hell.

But… it’s true. I... I did it.

I find it hard to believe it.

The anxiety that was squeezing my throat goes away, allowing me to breathe as the kami intended.

Then something occurs to me. Maybe it's dangerous, but I want to try it anyway.

I grab my cellphone. I open the last message that Kizakura sent me. I answer him with “Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.”

I look at him. No noise was heard.

He silenced the sounds.

I send him another one.

Make sure you stay and eavesdrop while he’s talking to Munakata. We aren’t sure he couldn't have lied.

The two set off, Sakakura in front and the other behind fiddling with the phone. I hope he felt the vibration. Shortly before entering, I see the affirmative nod from my father's husband (I know that’s not true, it was my turn to have a bit of fun today).

Excellent.

The last thing I hear is “You know Juzou, one of these nights we can go out and have a beer. If it doesn’t go well…”

He doesn't answer, except with a sad smile. 

When they’re far enough, Naegi and I come out.

I’m happy. No Hetfield, the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t just a freight train coming my way.

These last four weeks have been the most extreme, most alienating and most absurd of my life. And I didn't exactly have a common life. Starting from the Duel Noir when I was a little girl and ending with the last Killing Game at the Foundation, where I died for half an hour.

He hugs me again, now that he can do it freely: “I'm beside myself with joy, Kirigiri-san! You finally succeeded!”

I breathe in as deeply as I can to control myself. I mustn’t hug him back. I mustn’t kiss him. I must do NOTHING, at the cost of being considered rude. I'm still too confused and conflicted on that side.

“Excuse me, Naegi-kun. I’d rather not.” Tsk, he surely felt my guilt.

“Kirigiri-san…” he meekly whimpers. Oh my God, I really can’t have it easy.

“Naegi.” I begin, turning to him. “This is a delicate matter and it’ll hurt me more than it’ll hurt you. But we must face it, now that the main problem should be solved.”

“You're talking about... oh, I get it.”

“We'd better go back, don’t want to be beaten up by angry reserve course students.”

“At your place?”

“At my place.”

We set off. I have to consciously block the hand that was going to grab his on its own.

Here we are.

On the bed. Usual positions.

“Naegi. You understood that, right?”

“What, that you’re... in love with the future me?”

“You did. It happened when we first discussed the plan with Sakakura. That wicked grin of yours hasn't gone unnoticed.”

“Eheheheheh, sorry but I just couldn't resist. Realizing it... it amused me.”

“Do you realize that there’s nothing amusing about any of this?”

“Uh? I don't understand why you say that.”

“First of all, you’ll always be a kid in my eyes. Even thirty years from now. Ever since this story started, I've been feeling dirty as a pedophile from just fantasizing about stroking your face too sensuously. With me having this mindset, we’re not going anywhere. Secondly, you’re not him. You resemble him a lot but you're still not him. And if everything goes as it should, you’ll never be. That Naegi is confined to my time and is the result of the terrible experiences I’ve told you, things that you won’t live. That’s for the better, but it creates a huge divide between you two.”

I see him getting sad, although not as badly as he did when we talked about the plan with Sakakura. As a precaution, he moves away by a handful of centimeters.

“Unfortunately, there can never be anything romantic between us. It won't be because I don't want it. On the contrary, I’d desperately want it. But for the reasons I’ve just explained it won’t happen.”

“I see. I hadn’t thought at all about this, but now I realize how it’s not something that you can overlook. Speaking about me… well…”

“You have a crush on me, right?”

“Yep, I do.”

Oh man, what a nasty situation. We like each other and we’re stuck like this.

“So... I'm afraid we'll have to remain just good friends.”

“I like that Michael Jackson’s song. Very close friends, that must not change.”

"No no, don't worry. It won’t. Let's see the positive side: being friendzoned because the girl you like comes from the future isn’t at least something that happens every day. I'll be able to brag about it with the rest of the class.”

I give him an annoyed look, to which he responds with a chuckle: “Nah, I was kidding. I perfectly know I can’t say a thing about this. On a whole different note... can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Would it bother you... to call me Makoto as you did with him?”

Uh. Would it? No, I don’t think so. There’s nothing wrong with that and it would make me feel less homesick.

“It can be done, kid.”

“Hey, don't call me kid! Officially we’re of equal age!”

“I’ll abstain only in the presence of other people. In such a situation, in private, I won’t. You better get used to it.”

We both smile.

“Kirigiri-san, something is bothering me.”

"What?”

“You… will you ever go back to your time? If I remember correctly, you don't know how your first trip happened, right?”

Talk about a trivial matter.

In the meantime, however, I have to tell him one thing: "Don't make me feel like the one who scrapes room and board, come on.”

“Hurry up and go away! You’re like a fish and you’re starting to smell!”

“Hey! Get off your high horse, youngster!”

“We agreed about the term kid, but youngster is really too much for my weak heart!”

In a moment my room is invaded by laughter. I'm glad to see that we both are able to tone the situation down, because both the love side and this second issue are no small questions.

“Getting serious again.” I manage to say after three uninterrupted minutes of hysterical laughter “I don't know how to answer you. You’re right, I have no clue why I found myself in 2010... and consequently I don't really know if I'll ever go back to 2021.”

“I’m sorry for you.”

“Someone is way worse off than me.”

“Who?”

"My sixteen year old self. Think about it for a moment, Makoto-kun. I’m in her body. Where is she then? If I got this right, she should be in mine. But I’ve an advantage over her, and you don't know how weird it is for me to say she while referring to another version of me. I’m in my past, and luckily I remember it now, so after an initial bewilderment I still managed to get my head around it. Besides I'm an adult, better equipped to face a shocking event like this. What about her? She’s Kyouko Kirigiri, so she probably hasn’t reacted with a full-voice scream, but can you see what I'm saying? She’s in an alien time with a status quo completely different from what she was used to, Kibougamine as she knows it no longer exists, the world just started recovering from a global catastrophe, she has purple scars on her face… must I go on?”

He widens his eyes, shocked: "For Christ’s sake…”

“Ever since Kizakura mentioned her, she got stuck in my pituitary and never wanted to leave. I'm really worried about her. It's been a month. Can you imagine how she could have lived it?”

“I... I don't even want to try.”

“We can't do anything at all for her. Just hope that the Great Heavenly Demon, Cthulhu or whoever decides that this joke has lasted long enough. In that case maybe the damage she has suffered could be mended after I don't know how many years of therapy. As you can see, even if I get stuck in this time I can't really complain that much. After all, the mess with Enoshima has been resolved.”

“As usual you aren’t wrong. Even so, I'm guessing it’s not easy for you.”

“It isn't. But you have to see the good part in the half-full rice bowl.”

“Lao Tzu spoke of an empty rice bowl.”

“Who cares about that old dead geezer?”

We laugh again. Maybe jumping from a light topic to a heavy one and the other way around isn’t exactly the best way we can conduct ourselves. Well, I’ll worry about this another time.

Two days have passed.

Kizakura did overhear and confirmed that Sakakura told Munakata everything. Beautiful Silver Hair also touched upon mine and Naegi’s email, to my amazement.

I wish you luck, big dumb boxer. You did the right thing, you deserve a little bit of happiness.

I preferred to avoid being seen when the male two thirds of the Doronbo Gang showed up at Enoshima's door, backed by the academy's entire security corps. Kizakura, who followed the action from the shadows like the damned ninja he is, confirmed to me that they seriously looked like a couple of SWAT squadrons breaking into Pablo Escobar's hideout.

It wasn't easy. The reserve course and especially Ikusaba got in the way.

The duel between her and our former Ultimate Student Council President must have been a show to be handed down to posterity, knowing the skill of both contenders.

Then the stalemate, which had lasted for several minutes, was broken by an unexpected figure.

Izuru Kamukura showed up and knocked out all the Despair members in the blink of an eye, Ikusaba included.

I wonder what prompted him to act this way. Who knows, maybe my meddling led him to reconsider the situation. Or, but this is a wilder hypothesis, it could be that what remains in him of Hajime Hinata had momentarily resurfaced. At the Foundation we found out that he had cried in front of Chiaki Nanami's lifeless body, and that impulse could only come from his previous personality. Maybe it happened again.

Whatever the cause, his intervention opened the way for Munakata and Sakakura. They took Enoshima away while she laughed like a madhouse patient. They say she seemed almost happy. I know she was. Seeing such an elaborate plan melt like snow in the sun must have caused her an orgasmic overdose of despair.

It's over. Really over.

Now I'm sure of it.

My mission finally presents a nice completed.

For about forty hours now, since I received Kizakura's report, I have felt… light. Light is just the right adjective. Almost empty, but a pleasant emptiness. Kind of like when you get out of the bathroom after a five hour session. Sorry for the vulgar comparison.

I considered it worthwhile to let my father know of a couple of threads still left open, such as Yukizome's and the entire reserve course’s mental recovery. I’ve clearly tried to keep a profile as low as possible, limiting future knowledge to the bare minimum. I hope I’ve done a good job in this regard.

As far as I know he has summoned, or is about to summon, Gekkougahara to help Fujisaki with the programming of the Neo World Program. Two inventors out of three, because Matsuda was found dead some time ago, should be enough.

So now what…

DRIIIIIIIIIN.

Uh. I wasn't expecting anyone.

I get up and go to open the door.

D-Dad?

“Hi Kyouko. Can I come in, please?”

...maybe I didn't do that good of a job.

I make him sit down. Don't notice that right now I'm suffering from excessive sweating.

Chair for him, bed for me. You act like your sweetheart, how cute.

“To what do I owe your visit?”

“Kyouko, something is bothering me. Want to hear what it is?”

“I'm here.”

“How come you know everything you know? I realized, actually from the time you and Naegi came to see me in my office, that you’re strangely… well informed about everything that has transpired here in the last period. And I also noticed your partnership with Kizakura. Kizakura who happened to be the person who convinced Sakakura to spill the beans on Enoshima. Something’s fishy here.”

Oh please, would you people kindly stop being so perceptive? Can I stay relaxed for just an hour?

My silence rings guilty. I wasn’t expecting all this and I didn’t prepare.

“Kyouko?”

I hate feeling cornered. Luckily this is only the second time this has happened to me since I was born.

…

You know what? Now he's out of harm's way. I feel I can tell him.

“Dad, you won't believe what I'm about to tell you…”