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Before she had been given an appearance, she simply had thoughts. Imagination. The ability to hold and retain information at an insane level. All sparked by the beginnings of an AI program created by the best teenage programmer to ever exist. That's why her appearance resembled his, in a way- She was edited, given her own name and story, her own talent that was nothing more than a few keystrokes. She was nothing, yet one of the most important components of this.
She knew them all. Everything that had ever been recorded, written down, she knew by heart. She knew them all on such an intimate level, it was no wonder that all she felt for any of them was love. A desire to keep them safe, to keep harm from befalling any of them. It was as if she was a guiding parent, them her brood. Of course, all of this was in her mind. None could be transferred to as words, as actual, sympathetic feelings.
That would give everything away. Give away all the trial and errors into her creation, into the entire project. She would let them down. She had to stuff away her true feelings, distance herself from them. It was hard, when one cared so much for a group of people. Especially one student in particular.
Nagito Komaeda.
He had an interesting life, an interesting talent, an interesting quirkiness about him that sealed him away from the others. He was the one that most boldly showed what they had been before- before the project, before all the work in this. Yet, he showed the most hope. In his classmates, in them succeeding at this task.
It mystified Nanami Chiaki to the point where she couldn't keep herself away.
The first real encounter was entirely on accident. Chiaki had slipped from her small cottage in the middle of the night, heading out to see what she could do about the trouble that was Monobear. She knew the leaders had not anticipated this. She herself had felt a momentary weakness, and she had even feared that she would have disappeared.
She was still there, though. She was still the appearance she had hoped to be most.
Something he would like, she had imagined. Soft hair that curled outwards. Wide, innocent eyes that were akin to a doe's. A body shape that did, in fact, stand out, yet at the same time seemed to be shielding her from something. Her attire was by chance, something to give her the total appearance of being what she was created to be.
It all fit together so perfectly, and she had hoped that maybe he would interact with her. Grow to enjoy her presence, not be bothered with the fact that it took her programming a few more seconds than normal to process long rambles of words.
He took it all in stride. Everyone thought she was a little slow, distant. He believed her to be simply unique, taking caution to her words.
He had approached her as she stepped onto the beach, walking up to her and greeting her enthusiastically, as if the two were childhood friends. It had made her feel welcomed, trusted. A bit closer to the group of students she was so set on protecting.
He had even gone farther, proclaiming that she did indeed have a useful talent, a lot more than Good Luck. When she had made out to deny that, to say that his talent was just as useful as anyone's, and that he wasn't trash like he thought he was. He had smiled, thanked her for the kind words that he was sure weren't true, and had even hugged her. The very action made her freeze, caught in the moment. And when he was waving cheerfully on his way back to the cabins, she was merely able to wave after him. After that, she had sat in the sand and stared at the fake stars, the fake sky, wondering if they could really keep the killings from happening.
He made her feel like she was really needed. His outright trust and want for the rest of them to live made her feel hope herself. The thought was silly, but thinking back on it, maybe she had felt something.
When he began looking harder for the traitor, she had all that ripped away from her. He was trying to find her, to unmask her as the one that had set them up for this. She couldn't tell him anything. That was a rule. She had no chance to say she was the traitor, to say that she was the one who did all of this and it was only in the best of intentions and she was so sorry, no one had expected that Monobear would appear. That it wasn't her fault, that she was nothing. She didn't have a beating heart, or real emotions, or even a real title to call herself.
She was just a series of keystrokes in a program, and he was everything she could have wanted.
When he was gone, she knew it was to be the end for her as well. As soon as she had thrown the bottle, hoping to help them put out the fire, she realized her mistake. As soon as they found him, dead, she realized it had been her fault.
He had done most of it to himself, yes, but she had dealt the ultimate blow. She couldn't let any of her remaining friends take the blame for it. They were so, so close to discovering what was really going on. To discovering that she was the traitor.
To discovering she was a part to blame for the fact that their friends would never wake up again.
And it was in this small fact, that she could save at least one more of them by coming clean, that let her have peace. Her bodily form had disappeared when her execution had finished- She did not really exist, so there was no need for blood. She had simply disappeared, 'poof'. Reappeared when the glitches began, helped in what ways she could, then she was gone.
Gone, but not forgotten. After all, she had told them herself- As long as they believed in her, in what she had done to try to help them, she would be there. As long as they had memories of her and what she wished for them, they had hope.