Chapter Text
There weren’t a ton of things Class 78 had in common besides attending Hope’s Peak. But they were all friends, and on the rare occasions they could spend it doing something together, it was a god damn blast.
Mondo thought about this as he sat on the edge of the pool, dangling his legs in the water, watching the rest of the class. Sakura was judging a race between Makoto and Leon, a few of the others placing bets and cheering them on. Celeste and Toko sat on the other side of the pool, discussing something. Aoi was showing off pool tricks to a slightly-impressed Byakuya and a supportive-but-cautious Taka, who had a whistle around his neck, obviously a certified lifeguard. Kyoko was reading, though Mondo was sure he caught her sneaking glances at the race (where Makoto was clearly winning, Leon complaining loudly every time he came up for air). Hifumit sat with Chihiro, discussing swimming techniques and coming up with new challenges for the more competitive people.
Everyone was just having a damn good time, and it was incredible. Mondo hadn’t realized the amount of friends he’d made in the years he’d spent with them.
He was interrupted from this pleasant train of thought by a loud conversation between Sayaka and Hiro.
“It’s called SODA, you hooligan, not coke! If you were to go to a restaurant and ask for a coke, and they didn’t have actual coke but a different type of cola, it wouldn’t be the same thing!” Sayaka said, her voice nearly shouting.
“Coke equals cola equals pop, I don’t know how else to say it!”
They must have been having this conversation for a long, long time, because Sayaka’s near-endless patience had clearly just run out. In a bout of frustration, she dipped her hands into the water and splashed Hiro.
Hiro reacted to the water like it was acid. “OH, GOD, YOU GOT ME,” he yelled, making his voice high pitched, “I’M MELTING! WHAT A WORLD, WHAT A WORLD…!” Then with a thunderous crash, he fell headfirst into the pool.
Everyone that had been watching laughed and resumed their respective activities, acting like something completely batshit hadn’t just come out of his mouth.
Mondo looked at Sayaka, who was looking sheepish about her outburst and pitiful water attack. “Uh, do you know what the hell he was just screaming about?”
Sayaka screwed up her eyes, like she was trying to figure out if he was messing with her.
“I’m serious, why was everyone laughing at that? I mean, sure, he was acting stupid, but what else is new?”
Hiro had since resurfaced, his wet hair draping around his head like a Komondor. “...Whaddya mean you don’t know?”
“I mean I kinda get that you’re referencing -something-”, Mondo defended, really not liking the way they were looking at him. “I’m not screwing with you, I’ve never heard that shit in my life.”
Taka, who’d been walking over from the other side of the pool, came to stand beside him, bumping his shoulder with his knee. “Language, kyodai,” he chided, looking down at him for only a second before staring disapprovingly at Hiro, his actual target. “Hagakure-kun, falling into the pool like that could seriously damage your head and spine. Please utilize pool safety rules, even when making jokes,” he said, pointing at the sign.
Hiro moved some of the mop out of his eyes. “Well, you see Taka, I think you’ll find that they’ve updated the rules.”
Taka did a double-take. “Wha-? It most certainly did not change since I last-” he looked back and Hiro had sunk silently under the water and to the other side of the pool. An irritated frown curled onto his face.
Mondo grinned up at him. “Hey, you tried. S’not your fault if he does it again and cracks his skull.”
“I don’t think it’ll make much of a difference, good or bad,” he grumbled, glaring at Hiro still skimming the bottom of the pool. Then he sighed, sitting down next to him, also dipping his feet in the water. “What was he bothering ‘you’ about? The proper name for soft drinks?”
“No, I was just-”
Sayaka interrupted him. “He’s never heard of The Wizard of Oz. That’s very impressive, Mondo, but keep it to yourself…I’m sure Hiro’s already forgotten, but the rest of the class would never let you live it down,” she said solemnly, swimming off before either of them could say anything.
Mondo watched her go, then looked back at Taka, who was staring at him with wide eyes. “What?” he said, wishing he wouldn’t look at him like that, anxiously kicking the water.
“I can’t believe you’ve never even heard of The Wizard of Oz, that’s my favorite movie of all time!” Taka said, his smile blinding. “Honestly kyodai, I haven’t seen many movies but The Wizard Oz holds great cultural significance!”
Mondo smiled, clueless about whatever amazing movie it was but happy to listen to anything Taka thought was worth talking about. “Tell me everything.”
Taka didn’t go off on a rant like he’d been expecting (and hoping). He was quiet for a moment, seeming to decide something. “What are you doing tonight?” He asked, boldly.
“Wh- nothing, I guess,” Mondo said with a smile, taken aback, “but aren’t you usually busy on Friday nights? With a student council meeting?”
“They can handle one meeting without me. This is a matter of great urgency, don’t you agree?”
He said it with the usual innocent look, not a hint of anything else, but Mondo still felt his stomach flutter. “Yeah, totally. My dorm or yours?”
“Yours, I think.” Then he grinned and walked away, leaving Mondo with heat rising in his cheeks.
Aoi, who’d been watching this exchange from the edge of the pool, gave a low whistle. “Dang, that boy sure can be suh-mooth when he wants to be. You’re a lucky guy Mon~” she said, winking.
She ducked back into the pool before the towel he threw at her could make contact.
…
Mondo woke himself up with a yawn, curling into the warmth of his covers. He stretched his legs across the mattress, taking a nice deep breath before bothering to open his eyes.
And when he did, he couldn’t see any of the colors he was used to seeing. Well, except brown.
He blinked. Then he blinked a few more times, the pleasant grogginess of the morning fading quickly away as the weird sepia filtering refused to budge from his vision.
He sat up, looking at the contents of his dorm room- yup, everything from the floor to the ceiling was a different shade of brown.
A feeling of dread in his chest, he threw back his tangled covers and trudged into the bathroom, looking in the mirror. He looked normal, besides the color swap…leaning in close to his reflection, he held one of his eyelids open, watching his pupil contract and his light brown iris expand with it.
He leaned back and held the sides of the sink, staring at his reflection some more. Another startling thing: his pajamas, which weren’t pajamas at all: he was wearing a sleeveless, white-and-brown gingham button-up shirt, along with some loose-fitting dark brown pants. He’d never owned a shirt like this and had zero recollection of buying it.
Mondo left the bathroom and started searching the bed for his phone, thinking of looking up ‘what makes your vision go brown’, but he couldn’t find it. He took off his covers and sheets, checked under the bed, desk, drawers- nothing.
His jacket was also missing. So now he was starting to freak out a little bit.
Purposefully halting his steps, he sat on the edge of his mattress, shutting his eyes. He let his mind go quiet from how it was buzzing, listening to his breathing as he took a few large, slow breaths. He took another large breath, held it for a few seconds, and slowly let it out.
When he opened his eyes again, the room was still brown. But he wasn’t letting it get to him now.
He needed to figure out what was wrong with his eyes, so he’d probably need to go to a…what the hell doctor did eye stuff? He wasn’t stupid, he knew the name- it’d come back to him. Well he needed to go to one of those, so he’d probably just go to the nurse and get an excused absence from class, then ride to the nearest one.
Mondo sighed, slapping his legs and standing up. He went and cleaned himself up in the bathroom, doing his usual routine with the hair and makeup (his eyeliner now a very dark brown rather than black, irritatingly). Resisting the urge to check around for his stuff one more time, he made his way to the door and opened it.
He clapped a hand to his face as an unexpected brightness that had to be the sun shot him square in the retinas. “What in the actual hell…” he muttered to himself, trying to blink the pain away.
When his eyes finally adjusted, he felt his jaw drop. It wasn’t the dorm hallway like he’d rightly assumed would be there: it was some kind of tiny village, its mushroom-shaped houses lined up in a layered semicircle. Giant, exotic flowers and plants grew nearly as tall as the buildings, and it all converged around two spiraling roads made of brick.
Well, he’s pretty sure he was going nuts, but at least he could see in color again. Looking back into his room, everything in there was still brown. He snapped the door shut, just in case.
Newly recolored, he glanced down at his clothes: the gingham shirt turned out to be white and black rather than brown, the pants were black, and his shoes were white. He let out a relieved sigh- he’d never been able to pull off softer colors like brown.
Mondo cleared his throat, walking cautiously into the center of the town. “Uh, hello?” he called, looking around for any signs of movement, “anybody here?” He wove around a few of the buildings, knocked on a few of the weirdly-short doors. In fact everything was shorter -the mailboxes, the rocking chairs on the porches, the benches- the average resident of this place was might’ve been about five-foot-two. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.
A familiar rumbling sound in the distance made him look around. Off in the direction of where the road made of red bricks lead, someone on a motorcycle was tearing ass towards the village. They wore a poofy white ball gown that billowed in the wind as they raced by, swerving across the wide length of the road. From under the hoop skirt, he could see they also had on a set of heels that matched a milky white helmet…
A helmet that he recognized with a tiny amount of relief as belonging to one Daiya fuckin’ Owada.
As he roared closer and closer, the dress came into better focus: miniscule glass spheres and pearls were sewn intricately into the fabric, sparkling beautifully in the sun. He wore gloves adorned with rhinestones- even his bike had precious stones covering it. It was a classy, quality outfit, and it made him wonder what idiot let his brother wear it when he’d never been able to keep anything nice in his entire life.
Daiya finally pulled up a few yards away, parking his bike near one of the miniature houses. When he took off his helmet, his hair looked just as irritatingly-perfect as it always did.
Just as Mondo was about to start asking questions, he saw a bright pair of translucent wings flutter and unbend themselves from Daiya’s back. Not costume wings, just…wings. Whatever words were in his mouth quickly dried up.
Daiya sauntered over, his smile smug as usual. He did a little spin, showing off the outfit. “Well? Whatcha think about it, pretty nice right?”
Mondo wanted to look at the dress, but he couldn’t take his eyes off his face, his arms…there was something missing from his skin. It was clear, totally without blemishes- just like it’d been a few years ago.
He stopped thinking about it when Daiya’s fingers snapped in front of his face. “Hey, I asked you a question, short stuff,” he said lightly, an unspoken understanding in his expression. I know what you’re thinking about, but don’t bring it up right now, okay?
Okay. “Yeah, I like it,” Mondo said, shaking off his previous thoughts.
“Of course you do, it’s fucking awesome,” Daiya said confidently, “it’s only befitting for a Good Witch. Which I am, by the way.”
Mondo sighed, because yep, this was his beloved brother alright. “Okay, what the fuck are you talking about? What the hell is going on?”
Daiya cleared his throat, giving him a pitying and apologetic look. “Well, the thing is, literally anyone else on the planet would know what’s going on if they were in your shoes right now. And I recognize that as your primary caregiver that that’s my fault,” he said, holding up a finger to stop Mondo from interrupting. “But here’s the gist: you’re in Munchkinland, which is in the country of Oz.”
“Why would everyone else know that shit?” he asked, thinking in the back of his mind that ‘Oz’ at least sounded kind of familiar.
Some of the patience in Daiya’s posture was replaced with exasperation. “It’s the most famous book and movie of the last hundred years? Countless spinoffs? Probably at least a hundred adaptations each, a handful of amazing musicals?”
Mondo shook his head, grinning as it made his brother look even more irritated.
“Ugh, you’re hopeless. Literally some of the best stuff ever, and you’ve never even…” he grumbled lowly. “Anyway, I’m here to offer some plot explanation for you. For starters, you landed your dorm on a Witch.”
Mondo’s grin vanished, his head snapping back towards his little dorm cube. Sure enough, underneath the wall was a pair of pale legs with knee-length black and white socks, a gleaming pair of silver ankle boots on their feet. He looked back at Daiya, horrified, but his brother was laughing.
“Don’t be stupid, it’s not like you actually killed somebody.” Walking nonchalantly over to the legs, he grabbed one and pulled it out. It was just from a mannequin. “I mean for the sake of the story you did, but she was supposed to be like an evil tyrant, so y’know…c’est la vie,” he said, dropping it and heading back to where he’d been standing.
Rubbing his eyes to try and prevent the bubbling anger at his brother, Mondo asked, “So how the hell was I supposed to have taken just my dorm room and dropped it squarely on top of some witch in the country of Oz, a place everyone else on the damn planet apparently knows about and I just don’t?”
Daiya gave him that grin that meant he was about to say something infuriating. “Tornado.”
“Wh…the fuck, that doesn’t make ANY sense!” he yelled at him, close to losing his temper.
“Maybe it would if you weren’t some fucker who’s never seen anything about The Wizard of Oz!”
Right as Mondo was about to take one of those mannequin legs and pummel him with it, a small, familiar voice rose from one of the nearby houses. “Oh, for goodness’ sake!”
From the same house as the voice, out popped one Chihiro Fujisaki. He wore what looked to be a Hope’s Peak uniform made of entirely blue fabrics, and he was maybe two inches shorter than in real life.
He looked nearly as angry as Mondo felt. “Daiya, you were supposed to call us out here the second after you introduced yourself,” he spat.
“I’ll hold him down if you want to do the wailing,” Mondo muttered, only half-joking.
Chihiro sighed, shaking his head. “Hi Mondo. That’s alright, what’s done is done- Makoto, get out here, I don’t think he was ever planning on giving us the cue,” he yelled out to one of the farther houses.
“Hey I was planning on getting y’all, don’t worry,” Daiya said convincingly, grimacing as he saw Makoto hit his head on the top of the tiny door frame.
Makoto fanned himself as he walked over and loosened his tie, his red face clashing hard with the violent blue of his uniform. “I think the air conditioning must have been broken in my house,” he said, practically panting. “Was yours really hot too?” he asked Chihiro, who shook his head, shooting daggers at Daiya.
“Well anyway,” Mondo said, wondering how any one person could be so unlucky, “you two are meant to be Munchkins, right? So there’s Munchkins and witches, who are always either good or bad, and one of which I killed before I even got here. How many others are there?”
“I’m so glad you asked!”
A large red plume of smoke and fire furled from the ground not ten feet from the four of them, scaring the shit out of him. Sparks and embers burst from the sides of the firestorm, a few streaking past their faces. One even landed on Makoto’s jacket, which he hastily removed and stamped on with his foot.
From the flames emerged the one-and-only Junko Enoshima, her skin a vibrant green and wearing an all-black outfit that could never be independently described as belonging to a witch. When she pointed her broom at them, it accentuated her matching black acrylic nails. All in all, it was pretty stylish. “Hello, my pretties! Lovely to see you!”
Chihiro gave her a frighteningly-stern frown. “Junko, you need to be more careful when it comes to the placement of the pyrotechnic equipment, that might have seriously hurt someone!”
Mondo considered her for a moment. He wasn’t necessarily close with Junko, but he liked her well enough- they talked about fashion every so often in homeroom, that was pretty fun. He’d definitely call her a friend before calling her an acquaintance. But she was a little intense to be around, and had a frequent habit of taking shit too far.
Junko faltered, her eyes wide. “Did any of you get hurt?” she asked quietly, slightly crestfallen. When they all shook their heads (Chihiro more begrudgingly than the others), she cackled again. “Well, good. But I obviously wouldn’t have minded if you had!” She stalked closer, leering at each of them in turn.” Now…I have come here to exact my revenge on the one who killed my sister, the Witch of the East! Was it you, Munchkin? Or you?!” She said, wildly pointing a finger at Makoto and then Daiya.
Mondo stepped forward, worried her powers might accidentally go off on whoever she happened to be pointing at. “I did. Not on fuckin’ purpose, but I guess it technically is my fault,” he said, looking over at the prosthetic legs that presumably belonged to Mukuro.
Makoto leaned in to whisper something. “She didn’t really want to be here in Oz anyway, I’m sure she’s grateful to have gotten a part with no lines.”
Junko screeched, pointing her broomstick this time. “An accident, ey…? Well, I can make accidents happen too, Owada!”
Daiya sidestepped him, shielding Mondo with his broader frame. “I’m sure you’re not stupid enough to try and do anything while I’m here,” he said calmly, “but aren’t you forgetting about the shoes?”
…He wasn’t even gonna ask.
It obviously made sense to Junko, because her eyes lit up at his words. “You’re so right! I’ve been wanting to get my hands on those for ages!” She leapt from where they were standing to in front of the dorm room, stopping short when she noticed…the legs underneath it were gone, along with the shoes. She glared over her shoulder at Daiya, who was smirking. “Where’d they go, Owada that I’m not friends with?”
“I dunno,” Daiya said innocently. Strike that, innocent-sounding; Mondo knew his brother well enough to know the fucker pretty much always knew what was going on. “They had to have moved onto someone else’s.”
Mondo was the only one who had to look down to actually realize where the shoes had gone. The silver boots had replaced his usual nameless white sneakers, shimmering in a way that somehow wasn’t tacky, catching the light just so. They fit like they were made for him.
He looked back up at Daiya. “Oh, come on,” he said wearily, watching Junko bubble up with pseudo-rage out of the corner of his eye, “I dropped a house on her sister and now you want me to steal her shit?”
“Yeah, no wonder I’m the antagonist! Gimme those!” Junko said furiously, stomping over and attempting to grab one, yelping when they visibly shocked her. Rubbing her hand, she yelled at Mondo. “Owada, I swear to god if you don’t give me those shoes right now I will spend the rest of this story being a huge pain in the ass!”
That sounded fair enough to him, but Chihiro slapped Mondo’s hand from where it was about to take off the boots. “Nope, sorry, that’s against the rules.”
Mondo stared at him incredulously. “But I don’t care about these things, they’re not my rightful property, and she’s literally threatening me!”
Daiya squeezed his shoulder, speaking to him in a low voice. “Hey genius, you need those to get home. And she can’t hurt you when you have them on. So yes, you do care about them, and you’re not gonna take them off, ever, not even to sleep. Got it?” He punctuated this last remark with a dangerous look.
Mondo swallowed, and nodded. He wondered if other people ever saw him and thought he was as intimidating as Daiya was in his eyes.
Junko swore, backing away from the group in a huff. “Well, I clearly can’t get those shoes now, and neither can I exact my revenge…but watch your back, Mondo, because I’ll be scheming a plan to get what I want!”
She giggled strangely, running a safe distance away before throwing something on the ground and disappearing into another explosion of fire.
The four of them stared at where she’d disappeared.
Makoto, ever the optimist, gave a weak grin. “Well, she’s definitely giving the role her all, that’s for sure.”
A few more seconds of silence passed.
Then Daiya clapped his gloved hands together. “Welp, I’ve got lots of Good Witch business to attend to, and I’ve given you all the info you need,” he said sweetly, clocking his side as he passed, “so I’d best be on my way.”
“Y’know, he definitely said he was a good witch, but I’d bet my bike he doesn’t have any ‘business’ to attend to,” Mondo muttered to Chihiro, watching with disdain as Daiya walked away with his hands in his dress pockets, running his fingers through his hair in a way that somehow didn’t make him look like an asshole. “And there’s a ton of shit I still don’t know, thanks to him…”
Chihiro’s voice was light as he whispered back. “I think you probably need to accept now that there’s going to be a lot of things on this adventure you’re not going to get unless someone gives you context. Just roll with it and you’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure it’s frustrating to not be in the know,” Makoto added, patting his arm, “but it’ll make sense soon, don’t worry.”
Mondo wasn’t so sure, but he would be lying if he said their words weren’t comforting.
Daiya peered at him over his shoulder, then smiled. “They’re right Mon. But if you’re ever lost,” he said sagely, “just call, and I’ll be there. Probably. Maybe.” Then he snapped, his motorbike rumbling to his side, and he sped off like a bullet down the red brick road.
He scowled, torn between irritation and jealousy as he so often was with Daiya.
Chihiro cleared his throat and stepped in front of him. “Alright, I think it’s about time we told you how to get back home. That’s the main reason we’re here, after all, and you need to hop to it before Junko gets a plan on how to get those shoes back.”
Makoto smiled and joined Chihiro’s side. “That’s right, you need to get going! And don’t worry, it’s a long journey, but the directions are very straightforward: all you have to do is-”
“Follow the yellow brick road?”
“Wh- how’d you know that?” Makoto said, his eyebrows raised. “Did your brother tell you?”
“No, I…” He didn’t know how he knew. It was the first thing in this weird Oz place he could say with absolute certainty that he did know without being prompted. “I guess it’s just obvious. Big, yellow, can’t miss it.”
Chihiro narrowed his eyes. He’d always been the suspicious type. “Why didn’t you think it was the red one?”
“I don’t know, man, just luck or something. Is that everything? Nothing else I need to know?” He felt anxious. He wanted to get moving before any more important plot points could get squeezed into his brain.
Chihiro shook his head, still looking puzzled. “No, that should be all you need. Just don’t take off those shoes for any reason and stay on the road.”
“And call Daiya if something bad happens,” Makoto added.
Chihiro pulled on Makoto’s sleeve, tilting his head, and Makoto took the hint. “We’ll leave you to it! Good luck Mondo, we hope you have lots of fun,” he said cheerily, following a waving Chihiro back into the village of Munchkinland.
So there he stood, alone, about to depart on a journey to a city that held some kind of Wizard, trying not to get killed by a Witch. Was this story really mundane to everyone else in the world? It felt like anything but to him.
He put the toe of one of his sparkly-ass boots on the very point of the yellow brick road. Did he know what was going on? No. But all he apparently had to do was get to a city, talk to some wizard, and then he’d be home again.
With purpose, he took his first steps down the yellow brick road.