Chapter Text
"My name is Poripato Poripat. And it's my birthday.”
“That very reason is why I was one of the few selected to join the Albanese Jerk Academy. A prestigious discord server that only the top members of Ace Attorney CircleJerk may enter. People the likes of Violet Natsuki, an accomplished student of psychology; Jay Goranks Holmes, an intuitive sleuth with a strange penchant for finding success through catastrophe; Spud Spitter, a historic member of AACJ known for their immensely cute charm; and above all else… Hideo Kojima.
I have none of these talents. Nothing that could even compare… I was chosen entirely because my birthday fell on the day of transfer. To think that someone as simple as me could be nominated for this honour. I stand here now with trembling arms, my heart beating against my chest, and my mind adaze, ready to take the invite. Ready… to start my journey.”
And take it he did. Clicking the invite, Poripato closed his eyes and recoiled. His mind spun and spun and spun, his head began to feel light, he could almost feel vomit creeping up his throat…
…Then he went unconscious.
“Where am I?”
Poripato opened his eyes to find himself staring at a ceiling. The floor was a cold marble, the roof was lined with these large circular lights, it was almost like…
He was in a school. The hallway of one, at least. Looking around, he saw rows of doors, each one with a letter and a number on it. 2-E. 2-F. 2-G.
There were more, but he'd gotten a good enough idea of the pattern.
“What is this place?”
His head still felt a little light. And his hand felt weird…
“...Huh?”
There was something written on his hand. “1-C”. It was simple enough to understand. It must be referring to a room.
Poripato clambered to his feet, trying to overpower his headache, and began to hobble down the corridor. Down a flight of stairs…
Perfect.
He stood before the wooden door, afraid to see what lay within. One trembling hand grabbed the gleaming metal knob, his other clenched into a tight fist, and with all his willpower he pushed it open.
“A new person.”
Someone stood before him. They were huge… if not looking a little unsteady. It was clear they were Australian from their accent, and clear they weren't just your average person.
“Who are you?”
“M-My name’s… I don't know.” He did his best to hide the way he trembled, but it was impossible…
“I'm Shambling Corporate.” They extended one large hand forward, as if asking for a handshake. “It's nice to meet you, I don't know!”
The way they spoke betrayed their appearance. It didn't help the menacing aura, though.
“Hello.” Poripato reluctantly took the person’s hand. “What's… what's going on?”
“Your guess is as good as ours.”
Another voice came from deeper within the room. Poripato walked past the hulking monolith that was Shambling and entered fully. It was a class, and the person who'd spoke was rather average looking in comparison to Shambling. He wasn't particularly tall, but he certainly didn't have an ice cold stare like the last.
“We all just appeared here after clicking the invite to the Albanese Jerk Academy.” His head swayed from side to side as his gaze wandered around the room.
“Albanese Jerk Academy…?” It appeared something was coming back to Poripato. He remembered that name.
“Did you look in your pocket?” The man stood up and walked over to Poripato. “We all found paper in our pockets with our name an ‘ultimate’ written on it.”
“Our… huh?”
Poripato reached into his pocket and sure enough there was a piece of paper. He saw his name, and his ultimate: Birthday Boy.
“I'm Makar Whimsical, the Ultimate Doodler. I got the title from working for a load of popular franchises. Doodling a lot of ideas that ended up quite successful…”
“I'm… Poripato Poripat. Th-The Ultimate… Birthday Boy.”
“That's certainly a talent.” Makar looked somewhat puzzled but he didn't seem very fussed over it. “It's probably worth introducing yourself to everyone else as well.”
Poripato’s eyes immediately turned over towards Shambling. With shaky legs he approached and tried to speak up.
“Hi.”
“Hello, I don't know.”
The way they suddenly turned around nearly made Poripato fall flat on his back. That piercing stare was more fearsome than he remembered.
“U-Um… my name’s actually Poripato Poripat. The Ultimate Birthday Boy.”
“Where did I don't know go?” Shambling looked worried as their face contorted into a frown, brow creasing almost audibly.
“I'm Shambling Corporate, the Ultimate Australian!”
The way their mood seemed to swing rapidly was frightening; going from a frown to a smile at a moment’s notice.
“They call me that because I'm Australian!”
“Makes sense.”
“It does! I've done all the Australian things! Like meet a kangaroo! And a snake!”
They seem like quite average Australian things…
“Apparently those things aren't ‘normal’ around here, but I think that's just plain rude!”
Another frown took over Shambling’s face, but this time it wasn't worry. It was clear anger.
“Y-Yes, I totally agree!” Poripato replied on instinct, like an injured dog yelping.
“Wow! That's so kind of you Poripato!” Yet again the frown was gone. Back to a smile.
Poripato felt himself backing away, a fact that Shambling didn't seem to bat an eye at. He was already far away when they noticed that the conversation had ended.
Little did Poripato know, he'd only backed up into another conversation.
“Is something wrong?”
The man was working on a laptop. He seemed to be busy doing something before Poripato interrupted.
“Oh, no, nothing!” Poripato felt silly apologising, but what else was he to do in such confusing circumstances?
“Huh. Whatever you say.” The man shrugged and got back to work in an instant.
“...Who are you?”
“Ashura Mage. The Ultimate Video Editor.”
He clearly knew his way around a keyboard. Each key was pressed in a confident vein with hardly any delay between them. “I spend almost all my time putting together videos, sometimes work on other projects too. Ever heard about Prisoners of Fate?”
“I… maybe?” Poripato wasn't sure, but it did feel a little familiar.
“Can't remember, huh?” Ashura looked a little upset. “It's fine. I'm not too bothered.”
“I'm Poripato Poripat, Ultimate Birthday Boy.”
“Birthday Boy? Do you throw really good parties or something?”
“I don't know…”
The video editor slowed down slightly as he side eyed Poripato.
“...I’ll just stick with my theory for now.”
He could tell trying to talk with Ashura any more wouldn't really get anywhere, so Poripato moved onto the next person.
“You!” A sudden tug on his arm distracted Poripato.
“H-Huh? Who are you?”
“Doesn't matter!” The girl seemed quite frustrated over something. “Tap or swipe?”
“Tap or… what?”
“Answer the question!”
“T-Tap, I guess?”
She breathed a long sigh of relief.
“Ohhhh, thank GOODNESS!” The air of irritation evaporated as she relaxed back into the chair she sat in. “You're good, I like you.”
“Thanks…?”
“I'm The Real Keiro IX! I'm… the ULTIMATE Real!”
“Ultimate Real? What… what does that mean?”
“I am real, the realest. I am the ‘real’ in ‘realigion’. I think it's quite self-explanatory…”
The girl was energetic to say the least. Positively brimming with it.
“Well I'm Poripato Poripat. The Ultimate Birthday Boy.”
How many times will I need to say that today?
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Poripato!”
The girl cut away from the conversation shortly after, leaving Poripato to meet another. His interest was caught by the boy sitting on the desk behind her. His oddly green hair and surprisingly toned body betrayed the authoritative atmosphere around him. He was nose deep in a book from the looks of it, so Poripato wasn't sure if he'd respond…
“Hello.”
…When the book snapped closed without a finger being laid on it.
“Can I help you?”
“How did you do that?” He reeled back in shock.
“I practice.” The boy stood up, and the book seemingly came to his hand. “It's magic.”
“Magic? Real magic?”
“Do you need to see it again?” He sneered with confidence. “Who even are you?”
“I'm Poripato, the Ultimate Birthday Boy.”
“That's… a talent, for sure.” The boy brushed the hair from his eyes. “I am Timeo Marine, the Ultimate Attorney of the Arcane.”
“Attorney of the Arcane?”
“A lawyer. But not just any lawyer…” the paper from Poripato's pocket suddenly flung into Timeo’s hand. “...A lawyer adept in spellweaving.”
“Wow!”
Poripato had few words for him. It was astonishing to see so close, and very real. Genuine magic; something he'd never believed was truly possible.
“Now, if you'll excuse me…” Timeo shoved the paper into Poripato's palms before sitting back down. “I was in the middle of something.”
“I-I understand.” Poripato watched in awe as the book gently glided back onto the table’s surface and re-opened simply under the boy’s gaze.
“It's wild, isn't it?”
A voice came from behind Poripato. He quickly turned to look, only to find no-one there.
“Who said that?”
“Me!” The person tapped him on the shoulder, only to disappear the moment Poripato turned to look. He furrowed his brow when suddenly they were back where Poripato first heard their voice from.
“How do you do that…?”
“It's called being fast.” They certainly looked confident in themselves. “Poripato, right?”
“Huh? Were you listening to me and Timeo?”
“Yeah, duh. What else am I supposed to do?”
“You could at least tell me who you are…”
The person folded their arms and sneered.
“I have many names…”
“Then tell me one.” Poripato looked them up and down in confusion. “I don't know if I could remember them all.”
“What if I don't know which one I like most?”
How would you not know that…?
If anything was for sure, they were good at holding in a laugh. “I'm Eyac Corkett.
…The Ultimate Shitposter, most would say.”
“I think I see why.” Poripato couldn't help but squint.
“What?” Eyac tilted their head, feigning confusion. “I don't think I've done anything silly yet…”
“What about what you were just doing?”
“I wasn't doing anything.” It was clear they were still teasing. For all Poripato knows, ‘Eyac’ could be a fake name, but it's all he can care to get for now. The best option was to silently turn away, much to their dismay.
Before even making any actual distance, he bumped into another student. She seemed deep in thought, mindlessly spinning a pen between her fingers. There was something… mysterious about her. Poripato couldn't quite pin it down but he felt the hair stand on his neck just from looking at the girl.
“Are you just going to keep staring?” She asked without even opening her eyes.
“You knew I was here?”
“Knowing things you can't see is important in what I do.” Suddenly, her eyelids flipped open and she glared coldly at Poripato. “I wouldn't be anywhere near as successful if I only knew what was directly in front of me.”
“What is it you do?” He fought the urge to clam up with all his being.
“They don't call me the Ultimate Mystery Writer for nothing.” She rose to her feet. “Does the name June Cutely not ring a bell?”
“Very little is…”
“Your amnesia is far stronger than ours, Poripato.” It seemed to interest her. “I look forward to finding out why.”
The way June stared into his soul as if he were nothing more than a puzzle to be solved was chilling. Chilling enough to make him change subjects. He turned his head to someone nearby, not even taking in their appearance.
“M-Maybe you could find out about this person instead?”
June stared at Poripato in disbelief.
“You don't know who that is?!” Her hands covered her mouth and her pupils looked almost entirely dilated.
“H-Huh…?” Poripato turned again to the person, and realised who they had just pointed to.
They were fairly short, but very round. And purple.
“S-Spud Spitter?!”
In an instant Poripato felt himself go light-headed again. He hadn't realised how close he was to such a living legend. The Ultimate Cute himself. …Someone he shockingly recognised. It was like some of his memory actually came back to him simply from seeing Spud. A lot of names entered his mind, but he couldn't remember much about himself beyond the moment he joined the Albanese Jerk Academy… and the fact it was his birthday. Falling backwards, he felt a pair of hands catch him before completely toppling over. As his feet steadied, his vision returned, and his mind recovered, Poripato turned to thank his saviour.
“Th… Thank y—huh?”
He met eyes with a strange person wearing a horse mask.
“What was that about?” Though the horse’s snout muffled his words, Poripato made out the man’s russian accent quite well.
“Wh-Why are you wearing a horse mask?!”
“Why aren't YOU wearing a horse mask?” He scraped his foot against the floor aggressively, like a stallion preparing to charge. “It's far better than being a boring bald ape!”
“You… quite like horses.”
“Who doesn't?” He folded his arms confidently. “Most of all me: Betboxer Hagakure, the Ultimate Horse Fan!”
A talent that challenges the mundanity of mine.
“I’m Poripato. Ultimate Birthday Boy.”
“Sounds lame.” Betboxer leaned back in his chair with his arms behind his head. “I suppose all of us can't have the greatest talents, though…”
“Bleh.”
A girl nearby added without invitation.
“Who made that sound?” Betboxer seemed to be offended.
“Bleeeeh!” The girl made the sound again, showing her face and making a greater noise than before.
“Who are you?” Poripato raised an eyebrow at the girl.
“I smbleh!” She stuck her tongue out almost mockingly. “Yuina. Yuna Yun! Te Ultimate Bleeeh!”
“What kind of talent is ‘Bleh’?” Betboxer was probably sneering under his mask.
“The bedt one.” Yuna seemed quite pleased at least. “My acf ageeez!”
“Your what?”
“Cat, probably.” Betboxer gave it his best shot.
“How'd you reach that conclusion?” Another person entered the conversation, though they seemed far less eccentric than the other two.
“The power of the horse!” Betboxer enthusiastically replied.
“Interesting.” The man stroked his chin with intrigue. “Does this power also grant you a horse's vigor? I'd be interested to see if it protects you from some lesser poisons.”
“P-Poison…?”
“Forgive me, I can be very single-minded at times.” He smirked with pride. “The pursuit of knowledge can be quite… intoxicating.”
He bowed with grace before introducing himself. “Tenna Tox, the Ultimate Toxicologist.”
“Toxicologist?” Poripato scratched his head.
“The study of poisons. I've overseen the development of many antidotes thanks to my research.”
“Soihnds bleh.” Yuna added from the back.
“Sounds… what?” A singular bead of sweat rolled down Tenna’s face.
Poripato could feel tension rising, and made a swift exit. He found himself in the corner of the room, suddenly next to a rather tall and glum looking man. His hair was long, unkempt, and blonde. He seemed to be trained to a phone in his hands, tapping away without a care in the world.
“What are you doing?” Poripato approached with his hands behind his back.
“Hm?” The man looked up at him with tired eyes, his moustached face contorting into something vaguely inquisitive. “Writing. Why?”
“I want to introduce myself.”
“Okay.”
Clearly a man of few words.
“I'm Poripato Poripat, the Ultimate Birthday Boy!”
“Sounds fuckin’ stupid.” He bit back almost instantly. “Not much better than mine, though.”
“Your talent?”
“Ultimate Hetslopper.” He looked wearily ahead. “This is what I get for writing nothing but shipping fanfiction, I guess.”
“What… does that mean?”
“Hetslop is shit like Aphropollo from Path of Justice,” the man went on as if Poripato wasn't even there, “I only do the good shit. Been writing Kaystace and Yunao for the past week and I swear to GOD—I could write an entire thesis on those ones. Because I love THEM and NOT Aphropollo and if SOMEONE retcons this it means they are ABLEIST and HATE Bisexuals.”
“R-Right.” Poripato swayed skeptically before responding. “What's your name though?”
“Kremit Naruhodo.”
And just like that, he was back to the grindstone. Poripato saw no reason to continue either—only thing for it was to talk with the last few students. Walking a few steps, he stopped by two women who seemed… distracted by something.
“Hello.” Poripato stood behind one. She did not respond.
He tapped her on the shoulder. She still didn't respond. With a frown on his face, he turned away.
“AH HA!” The student stood up suddenly, throwing her arms into the air. “I told you!”
“How did you…?”
The woman sitting across from her looked positively stunned.
“What were you doing?” Poripato approached again.
“Showing off my skill.” The woman who cheered had a clear polish accent. “I'm the Ultimate Lucky Student!”
“So… you're lucky? Were you…?” Poripato looked at the table; a deck of cards sat on top.
“I'm Miszczu Emilia. And you are?”
“Poripato Poripat. I'm the Ultimate Birthday Boy.” He extended a hand for a handshake, which Emilia promptly ignored.
“Sounds about as ‘talented’ as me.” She whispered with a chuckle.
“You look confused.” The woman who was just competing against Emilia leaned back in her chair, hand under her chin.
“Wh-What?” Poripato was caught off-guard.
“The frown, the constant furrowing of your brow; everything hints to your confusion. That you're lost… but something's familiar enough to keep you sane.”
The girl had decoded him simply by looking at his face.
“My name is Violet Natsuki. The Ultimate Psychologist.”
That explains it.
“...You reacted to that.”
“I did?”
“Yes. Your face softened. Almost as if you recognise my name…”
“How do you keep doing that?!” Poripato wasn't sure if he should be freaked out or impressed.
“I suppose you'll have to wait and see. Goodbye for now.”
She stood up and walked away from the conversation. The weird part about all that was the fact she was right. Her name did sound familiar. If it weren't for the fact she'd shaken him quite bad, he might have been able to recall. Luckily, someone else seemed to notice Poripato's frown.
“Is everything alright?” Their concerned voice reached deep down into him, and strangely he began to feel notably calmer. Poripato turned to meet them, and was met by someone else he found familiar.
“I'm fine, I think.” He raised an eyebrow as he tried to recall.
“You didn't look fine, but I'll take your word for it.” It looked like he was about to leave before noticing Poripato's face. “Is there something on my face?”
“Why… do you seem familiar?”
“I wonder…” an inquisitive expression decorated their face. “Does the name ‘Jay Goranks Sholmes’ ring a bell? The Ultimate Catastrophic Success?”
“A little.” Poripato didn't even need to think for the answer. It came naturally.
“Interesting. Maybe someone else can clear this up…”
“You!” Goranks pointed to someone nearby.
“Huh?” They looked confused but approached anyway. “Do you need me for something?”
“Tell this man your name.”
Poripato looked between them.
“I’m… Purple Soaply?”
“Does that remind you of something?” Goranks looked confidently back to Poripato.
“Not really.”
Purple looked just as confused as him.
“I'm the Ultimate Purple.”
They added, and now Poripato's confusion far exceeded Purple’s.
“What does that mean?” He asked, trying not to seem rude.
“I dunno.” They responded, scratching their head. “What's yours, anyway?”
“I'm the Ultimate Birthday Boy.”
“Well, I'd hardly say mine makes less sense than yours!”
It does though…
“We may not have something as outstanding as them over there, but clearly we count for something.”
“Who is ‘them’?”
Poripato turned his gaze to where Purple was pointing and what met his eyes was a face all too familiar.
A pair of glasses so easily recognisable, a beard impossible to erase from memory, a dormant genius behind his incorrigible stare: Hideo Kojima.
“He’s the Ultimate Game Developer.”
“I’d assume so.”
Poripato replied on instinct.
“So you remember? You recognise him?”
He recognised him more than the rest.
“Yes. And… I recognise you. You're a detective…”
“Then, as catastrophic as dear Purple’s introduction was, I'd say this was a success.” Goranks began to frolick away before Poripato could get in another word. “Onwards to the next conundrum!”
Taking the message, Poripato decided to explore more of the classroom.
He walked past the enigmatic ‘Glue Tasty’, the Ultimate Gamer, who doesn't get an actual introduction because that talent is boring and the person writing this hasn't spoken to her in literal months.
With that meeting out of the way, it left the boy to meet the last two in the room. One was an astute looking boy, if not a little small as well, and the other… the other was a giant man with a commanding presence. He held in his hand a book that appeared hard as stone and as thick as the Earth’s mantle. They were engaged in a game of chess.
“Come to watch me crush this man?” The smaller boy clearly wasn't as hyper focused.
“Actually… I came to introduce myself. I'm Poripato, the Ultimate Birthday Boy.”
“Pah, I hate introductions! If I must, though…” He rolled his eyes before sitting up straight.
“Gumball Watterson, the Ultimate Chess Master.”
Now, maybe it's just Poripato, but this boy didn't look like an anthropomorphic blue cat.
“And… him?”
“He’s—hey, no, you can't eat them!”
Alas, it was too late. Gumball’s bishop was long gone down his opponent’s maw.
“...Me?”
The low rumble of his voice shook Poripato to the core. The man slowly rose to his feet, then slammed the spine of his book against the table.
“I am that which strikes fear into the hearts of both this world and the next!” A dark smirk grew on his face. “He who cannot be matched!”
“Original Gangster, the Ultimate 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴!”
“Th-The Ultimate 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴?!”
“I have spent years honing my talent, and all the morals by which I must live are contained within this tome.”
OG raised his book into the air with pride.
“Perhaps, one day, we may test your 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴, but now is not the time. I must first do away with this fiend…”
His hands moved like lightning until every piece on his side of the board had joined together to form one mega piece. The Chess Master across the table could only watch in silent horror as the game was decided within a single moment, laying waste to the supposed expert’s entire side.
“And with that, my work is done.”
With one more dark smirk, OG turned and left, his commanding aura continuing to hang over the table.
Such a display was all poor Poripato could handle. He moved far away, to a pair of empty seats in the middle of the room and began to stew in his thoughts.
It had seemed everyone was introduced, however…
“Um, excuse me.”
A voice, still unfamiliar to the boy, came from the once empty seat beside him.
Sat there was a harmless looking boy. One who must have entered after Poripato.
“I'm Ratkun McCoy. I'm the Ultimate Celeste!”
Ratkun seemed quite excited. A smile painted his face bright, and a glint in his eyes reflected in Poripato’s.
“I'm the Ultimate Birthday Boy, Poripato.”
“You're a lot more willing than everyone else here.” The boy chuckled as his gaze glossed over the room. “The others seem so much more confident… I have no idea what's going on.”
“Me neither. It's weird, isn't it?”
“Yeah! Finally, someone who gets it.”
It made Poripato happy to know he wasn't the only one out of his depth.
“You and I? I can tell we'll be friends.” Ratkun extended a hand, as if asking for a handshake, to which Poripato quickly obliged. Even his palm had a warm feeling, sending a welcoming message right to Poripato's brain. It seemed all would finally be calm, if only for a short while, when a message came over the speakers perched in the very corners of the room.
“ALL STUDENTS MUST MAKE THEIR WAY TO THE CENTRAL HALL! ATTENTION! ALL STUDENTS!”
The voice was shrill and painful to hear; more than enough to get the point across. Every student moved in an orderly way, minus OG who pushed and shoved and ran off, to the hall in this complex’s centre. It was grand and open… but it didn't seem like there was anything of note. Not until they came face to face with the answer they'd been looking for.
A shadow leaped over everyone's heads, cutting through the air before landing with a thump on the stage that sat on one side of the room. At the podium, a large frog now rested, one half of its face green and the other a midnight black bearing an eye of hellish red.
“I trust you've all become acquainted?”
There it was, that voice! The one over the speakers…
“Pray tell, who might you be?” Goranks took the initiative, opting to ask the question on the forefront of everyone's minds.
“That is what you wish to know? Would it not be more prudent to understand your current situation?”
“Our current situation…?” Purple muttered loud enough for Poripato to hear.
“Welcome, one and all, to the Albanese Jerk Academy! This year's venue for a very special event!”
Poripato could see the unease on Ratkun’s face. He took it upon himself to rest a hand on the boy's shoulder and reassure him.
“This year, in these halls… all of you will be partaking in a game. A killing game!”
“Seriously?” Tenna groaned from somewhere in the crowd.
“Indeed! A game where the only way to escape is to murder another… leaving the rest to die should you get away with your crime!”
“Wh-What?” Makar’s shaky voice sounded out from behind Poripato.
“I am the one they call Monokaeru, and I will be your host!” The beast jumped again, this time into the rafters. “For the very first Albanese Jerk Killing Game!”
And, as quickly as it had shown itself, he was gone. The information needed to sink in, and everyone was taking it different than others. People like June barely batted an eye, whereas others, people like Ratkun…
“I-I don't want to die…” He shivered in fear. “I don't want to hurt people either…”
Poripato gave him a mournful look.
“And you won't have to. So long as we're together in this, no one can hurt us!”
“You really think so…?”
He wanted to believe so. It's not like that explanation was easy to swallow for him either.
A killing game. Turning murder into a mere pastime. It was sickening… and it was now reality.
Poripato was chosen specifically, and it's time he finds his place.
Let the games begin!