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“You’re just a n-nobody! Don’t even c-c-come near me, g-got it?” Naegi narrowed his eyes, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. He’d just come to the kitchen to get a snack, he didn’t ask for this.
“Sorry, didn’t realize I had to be quarantined,” he scoffed, turning to the fridge and reaching for an apple. He allowed himself a small smirk at the offended gasp from behind him, before it died in the face of his utter disillusionment with literally everything that happened since he stepped foot into this murderschool. Nine people had died, and to be completely honest, he was tired. Tired of trying to make everyone get along, tired of trying to play the “nice guy”, just tired of everything. Obviously, no matter what he did, these people would still fight and kill and just be generally mean to each other. That was their problem though, not his. He wasn’t the SHSL Therapist, he was just some Average Joe with a tiny streak of good luck. Unfortunately, for some reason, people seemed to confuse “friendly” with “willing to listen to literally all problems”. He knew more about his classmates than he did his own family, and honestly it kind of freaked him out.
“H-Hey, a-are you even li-istening to me?!” He groaned silently, grabbing his apple and straightening up, closing the fridge.
“Do you want the honest answer, or one of those little white lies that make you feel better?” he asked, mostly under his breath. Unfortunately, Fukawa heard him. The offended gasp was louder this time, causing him to roll his eyes so hard they almost popped out of his head. “Look, Fukawa-san, I’m sorry. I’m just....a little tired.” He turned, trying his hardest to smile. A headache was growing behind his eyes, pounding on his skull. He swore he could feel his brain throbbing against the bone. She scowled at him, but turned sharply on her heel and left. He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Wonder if Monokuma has any aspirin in this place...” he muttered, shoving the apple into his hoodie pocket and ambling out of the kitchen.
On the way, he bumped into Asahina, who looked like she wanted to say something. His eye twitched, but he smiled anyway. She hesitated, before apologizing and running off. “.......Huh. Wonder what was up with her....” he muttered, pressing a hand to his temple and making a beeline for the nurse’s room. All he could remember were blood bags, but surely they had some painkillers!
The headache skyrocketed from “annoying” to “migraine” as he turned the corner, forcing him to stop and hold the wall for a second. It felt like something was inside his head, trying to get out. A few tears leaked out of his eyes, and his knees trembled from the effort of staying upright. He wasn’t even halfway there yet, and already he felt like dying. Maybe he could convince someone to put him out of his misery. Another sharp stab of pain accompanied the thought, along with what felt like a memory.
[“Enoshima-san, are you sure you want to help me? I mean, this plan’s probably doomed to fail, right?”
“AHAHAHA! Oh, Naegi-kun, Naegi, Mako-chan my pal, this plan’s fuckin’ brilliant! Don’t you worry yer pretty lil’ head, I got this! I’ll do the legwork for ya, while you cre-- -n-o ---ir ra-ks l--- a li---e vir-s!”
“........Al-ig-t, -f yo-’-- s-re....”]
He frowned, pain lessening as he mulled over the memory. Bits at the end were foggy, like something was trying to erase it. Something about it felt....... off, too. For one thing, he couldn’t remember ever being close enough to Enoshima for her to call him Mako-chan, of all things! Plus, from what he could remember before Monokuma killed her, she didn’t seem to act like that, either. “This is all wrong....”
“What’s all wrong, Naegi-kun?” He swore, jumping away from the voice and flailing as he tripped over a ragged edge on his jeans.
“K-Kirigiri-san! Y-You scared me......” he said, one hand pressed to his chest to calm his racing heart as the other continued the pressure against his temples. She raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer.
“I apologize. Are you alright? You’re a bit......jumpier, than normal.” He laughed awkwardly, though it came out a little hysterical to his ears.
“Y-Yep! Tooootally fine! Just a headache. I’m gonna go get some aspirin and go take a nap, that’s all!” he said quickly, calmed enough to stagger to his feet. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she didn’t comment, instead giving him a slow nod.
“.........Right. I’ll....let you do that then. Do let me know when you feel better.” With that, she was gone, the clicking of her boots fading into the distance as she walked away. He sighed, tension melting out of his shoulders. That was close, he didn’t want to try and explain his weird vision to Kirigiri, not when he barely understood it himself. He sighed and continued on, dragging his sorry carcass into the nurse’s office and stumbling over to a medicine cabinet.
“Come on, come on......I’m supposed to be the Luckster, right? So where’s my fucking lu-aHA! Found you, ya lil’ bastard....” he muttered, eyes lighting up as he located the dusty bottle of painkillers. He looked at the recommended dosage for someone of his size and shook out two tablets, but paused and reconsidered as another spike of pain shot through his head.
He shook out three more. “Welp, I’m probably gonna die anyway, right? Bottoms up, I guess!” he said to himself, laughing quietly and putting the pill bottle down. He grabbed a little paper cup from the side of the sink, filling it with water and tossing the pills back. He swallowed the water in two gulps, making a face as the tablets slid down his throat. “Freakin’ hate pills...” he muttered. He started to feel a little lightheaded, but at least it wasn’t hurting anymore. “I should.....probably lie down......” He wobbled over to a bed in the corner, collapsing face-first and closing his eyes, letting the comforting darkness take him away.
--
“Enoshima-san, are you sure you want to help me? I mean, this plan’s probably doomed to fail, right?”
“AHAHAHA! Oh, Naegi-kun, Naegi, Mako-chan my pal, this plan’s fuckin’ brilliant! Don’t you worry yer pretty lil’ head, I got this! I’ll do the legwork for ya, while you creep into their ranks like a little virus!”
“.........A virus?”
“Oh come oooonnn, Mako-chan! There’s nooooo way you actually care about them! I can see it, you know. The hopelessness in your eyes. The way your shoulders tense whenever one of those maggots calls your name. You just want them all to go away, right? You’re not reeeeally their friend!”
“..................”
“Aw, don’t give me that wil’ pouty face! You know it’s true, that’s why you’re sad!”
“..........Who’d ever want to be friends with them? The ‘New Hope of the World’......Ha. Don’t make me laugh.”
“YAAAAY~! Now yer getting’ it, Mako-chan! Despair’s muuuch better, right? Right~?”
“No. Hope? Despair? None of it actually matters. You can be as hopeful or as hopeless as you want, and nobody gives a shit. Not unless you’re talented.”
“AHAHA~! There’s that bitterness I wanted to see! You’ll make a fine mastermind yet, Mako-chan~!”
“.................yeah, whatever. Just don’t go too overboard, got it? I want their suffering to be an ocean, a roaring river, and purely theirs. Don’t drown it out with the ‘Ultimate Despair’ shit you’re planning. They don’t deserve to be just a drop in a bucket.”
“Awww, Mako-chan, you wound me! Don’t worry, they won’t get off lightly. I know how much this means to you, my lil’ cutie patootie!”
--
“-egs? Oi, Naegi!” Naegi sat bolt upright, eyes wide and heart racing. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with dry cotton, and his ears were ringing terribly. Oh well. At least his head didn’t hurt anymore. He swallowed as best as he could, looking up at Hagakure.
“........yeah?” he rasped, leaning back against the wall. Everything felt too much, like all his nerves were raw and exposed. Hagakure looked at him in concern, but shook his head.
“You okay dude? I found ya passed out on th’bed, and it didn’t look like you were breathin’! I can’t handle two corpses, not again!” Hagakure said quickly, tugging on one of his dreads. Naegi blinked, lost.
“Slow......Slow down. Two.........corpses.....? Did someone die.......?” he asked, carefully swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His stomach churned, and he quickly clamped a hand over his mouth to try and stall the sickness. Hagakure hesitated, but nodded again.
“Yeah, ‘Kawa found a body in the garden, and Toges sent me to come gather everyone. I was gonna go to your room, but I saw this light on and stopped in,” he explained, scratching his head. Naegi nodded, slowly, hand lowering from his face when the turmoil in his stomach eased.
“Okay.......um......I think I took too much medicine. Can I have some water...?” he asked, tilting his head as he gave Hagakure his best apologetic smile. He nodded, leaping into action and filling the same cup Naegi had taken the pills with several hours before.
“Here, drink this! I’m gonna be honest, Naegs, y’don’t look so hot. Want me to carry you upstairs? Only, I’m scared you’re gonna collapse halfway up!” Something dark and ugly clawed at his chest at the suggestion, angered at being treated like a child. Then, he pushed it down. He’d object, but the room was still spinning. He sipped the water slowly, the cool liquid quenching his thirst, but returning his nausea.
“Y-Yeah, I think you’ll have to.....My stomach doesn’t feel so good....” he muttered, putting the cup down. A dull ache throbbed in his ribs, and he absently rubbed at it. His hand hit something round and hard, and he pulled it out curiously. “The apple....” he murmured, snorting. “I probably should’ve eaten this before the meds, huh?” He yelped when he was suddenly lifted into the air, arms flailing on instinct as the nausea returned with a vengeance. “H-Hey woah Hiro! C-Calm down, slowly!” he yelped, face turning a bit green as he tried to hold it down.
“S-Sorry little dude! Here, take a bucket, because we gotta dash!” Hagakure said, grabbing a plastic bucket from the corner of the room and handing it to Naegi before sprinting out of the room. Naegi turned even greener, clutching the bucket like a lifeline. Suddenly, he wished he were still in an aspirin-coma.
--
They skidded to a stop in the garden, the bucket considerably fuller than it had been four floors ago. “Y-You can let me down now....” Naegi said faintly. He never wanted to repeat that experience, though he had to admit he felt better.
“Where have you been? And what is that awful stench?” Togami demanded, wrinkling his nose. Naegi set the bucket down, stepping away from it on shaky legs.
“Nurse’s office. Had a headache, took too much medicine, passed out for a couple hours. That’s not important though.” He looked around the garden, noticing a distinct lack of the rest of the smells he’d come to associate with death. Sure, there was the sickly stench of decay, and the tangy, acrid scent of fresh blood, but there wasn’t any of the......... other smells that came with death. His brow furrowed, and he went over that nugget of information again, ignoring whatever Togami was talking about. Decay.......and fresh blood? Well, that’s a contradiction and a half right there.
[“Don’t worry, Mako-chan! Stupid Big Sis Mukuro’ll agree to aaaaaanything I tell her! Even if I tell her to roll over and die~!”]
Well, that’s handy. Annoying and useless, but handy. Naegi frowned, jolted back to reality by annoyed fingers snapping in front of his face. “Oi, Naegi. Are you even paying attention?”
“Not really, no...” he muttered without thinking, still lost in his musings.
“Well, start. We’re almost done with the investigation, honestly.” As if to punctuate his statement, Monokuma chose that moment specifically to appear.
“Well hell~oooo, students of mine! Looks like we gotta ‘nother moidah on our paws!” he said gleefully, grin somehow getting sharper. Naegi scowled, a stray thought about annoying speech patterns slipping into his mind before it was gone.
“What, is it trial time already?” he asked, crossing his arms. Monokuma leered at him, left eye twinkling ominously.
“Not quite, Hoodie! Still gotta give you fuckers the Monokuma File, after all!” He turned just as their ElectroIDs beeped, addressing the entire group this time. “Take a few minutes to look over those, then I expect to see all of ya down in the trial room, pronto! Got it?” He glared around the room until finally, someone agreed. Then he was gone.
--
And so, it came to this. Between him and Kirigiri, neither of them had an alibi. Or rather, no alibi that anyone would accept. Kirigiri had seen him before he passed out in the nurse’s office, but as she was also a suspect, her word wasn’t exactly taken at face value. The trial had devolved into pointless squabbling, everyone bitching and fighting like children. Makoto scowled, his headache threatening to return with a vengeance.
[“Enoshima-san, remember: you’re going to be the only one who knows what’s going on, once Ikusaba-san dies. No matter what, you can’t give any information up. Not even to me, not until the last possible second.”]
He growled under his breath, glaring at the podium. These little tidbits accompanying the headaches were getting more confusing by the second. When did these events even happen? He couldn’t........remember.........wait.
That’s it.
He couldn’t remember, but he could remember. That strange dream he had when he took the aspirin and passed out, that had given him more information than he knew what to do with or how to understand. So if he just......
“Naegi? You’re being awfully quiet. Are you alright?” He startled, wincing when his stomach churned at the sudden movement. Everyone was staring at him, expressions varying from confusion to disgust. He realized he hadn’t been paying attention when he saw the voting wheel in the center of the room.
The voting wheel, resting on his picture. His eyes widened in shock and horror. He couldn’t be the Blackened! He looked around the room desperately, but everyone avoided his eyes. He gritted his teeth, fists clenching tightly. “Naegi...Did ya really do it?” Asahina asked, sounding like she’d cry if the answer was anything other than a firm no.
The sad part? He couldn’t honestly say one way or another that he didn’t kill her, or even if he did. “I’m......I.......I don’t know....” he said, as honestly as he could. She flinched, looking away from him quickly. Nobody else spoke to him, and silence covered the room like a thick blanket, smothering any attempt at conversation.
At least, until Monokuma’s cackling broke the silence. Everyone looked at him, eyes wide as he rolled around on his throne, clutching his stomach tightly. “Oh, this is just perfect!” he cackled, wiping a tear from his eye and leering at Makoto ominously. “It’s been fun, Hoodie, but all things must come to an end!” The button appeared in front of him and he smacked it with his gavel, thick chains shooting out of a hole in the wall not even a second later. Makoto fought down the nausea, staring at the horrified faces of his classmates(friends?) as he was dragged away. Monokuma waved him off, grinning sickly. “Bye-bye, Mako-chan!” he said cutely, his twinkling left eye the last thing Makoto saw before the door to the trial room slammed shut.
‘Mako-chan......?’
--
Makoto never thought that he’d die before he was an old man. Sure, there were days when his luck made it seem like he would, but he’s never actually gotten seriously injured before. And yet, here he is. Strapped to a desk on a conveyor belt of doom, about to die before he even hit his seventeenth birthday. What a life.
He tore his eyes away from the Monokuma in front of him, looking at the window showing the viewing area of the execution area. Everyone was looking at him, but it wasn’t with the tears he was so accustomed to. Instead, he was met with both stony glares and hard eyes. Asahina was tearing up, but she was glaring at him, just confirming she was an angry crier. He looked away again, instead trying to tune out the rhythmic slamming of the trash compactor behind him with thoughts on why Monokuma calling him ‘Mako-chan’ felt so......familiar.
He thought hard, turning it over in his mind, but the compactor was not so easily ignored. With each passing second, the thumping grew ever louder, a slow contrast to the quick staccato of his own heartbeat. He chanced a glance behind him, paling and looking away quickly when the large metal block filled his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut, a few tears leaking out of the corners and sliding down his face to fall on his trembling knuckles. He thought he heard a rush of static, but didn’t dare look. Call him a coward, but he didn’t really want Monokuma’s face to be the last thing he ever saw.
Then, the pounding stopped. He opened his eyes, looking up to see Alter Ego on the screen above him, a determined look on their face. He looked further up, surprised to see the trash compactor suspended above his head. Monokuma started laughing again, his cackling filing his ears as he slipped over the edge of the conveyor belt.
He was too shocked to even scream before the stress and nausea made everything go black.
--
“So Naegs, I gotta ask; what counts as the last second? Do I tell ya before ya die?” Makoto shrugged, shaking his head.
“No. If I die, it’d probably be because someone killed me. You can’t tell me or them, not even if I become a victim or a Blackened.” She pouted, crossing her arms.
“Then when can I tell you? Mako-chan, this plan doesn’t sound very fun....How am I s’pposed to give them despair if I can’t even tell ‘em their beloved Naegi-kun was the mastermind?” She kicked her feet, heeled boots thudding gently against the legs of the desk she was sitting on. He looked up from the pamphlet he was scribbling on, tilting his head.
“When they try and find the mastermind, of course. We leave hints that it’s you, that you’re the one behind all this, and when their hope is at its peak..........then we tell them. And me, I suppose.” He shrugged listlessly, going back to coloring in the Monokuma’s eye. Her face lit up, and he swore a fire was lit in her eyes.
“THATSH PERFECT!!!! NEGGY YOU’RE A GENIUSH!” she cheered, punching the air. He winced when some spittle landed on his cheek. He wiped it away with the sleeve of his jacket, looking up at her.
“I guess so.....It’s just logic....” he muttered, but he couldn’t ignore the warmth in his chest at the praise. Maybe this could work. Maybe the half-thought plan he’d drawn up when he was angry at everything in study hall could work.
He’d seen movies like this. Where the shy, friendly nerd killed his classmates in a fit of rage. None of them ever won, they always got cold feet or got arrested or died halfway through. He never expected that his plans for revenge would work.
Then again, society never expected the apocalypse to be kickstarted by a fifteen-year-old boy and a sixteen-year-old girl, either.
--
He woke up in a pile of trash, and wasn’t that surprising. The waking up, not the trash. Makoto didn’t move just yet, instead thinking about the dream (vision? memory?) he just had. ‘I’m.....the mastermind? No....No way.....’ He frowned, clenching his fists tightly. “There’s no way I’m the mastermind....” he whispered harshly to himself, shivering when a draft blew through the room he was in.
He jumped almost a foot in the air when a loud, resounding crash rang through the room. He looked sharply over at where the noise had come from, narrowing his eyes at the suspiciously full trash bag. He pulled himself off the pile of trash carefully, using the threadbare couch behind him as a support. He hissed in pain when his legs screamed in protest, but ignored it and made his way over to the trash bag. He barely reached out a hand to poke it when a familiar gloved hand popped out of the top. He scrambled back, eyes wide.
“K-Kirigiri-san?” he stuttered, clutching his chest with one hand to try and calm his racing heart. She pushed the bag off of her, standing up and casually brushing an empty Cup Noodle and a narutomaki out of her hair.
“Hello, Naegi-kun. I’ve come to get you out......and apologize.” He blinked, tilting his head.
“Apologize?” he asked curiously. She looked away, the faintest hint of a blush tinging her skin.
“Yes. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have been a target of the mastermind.” He twitched involuntarily at the word ‘mastermind’, but hid it fairly well. Kirigiri didn’t notice, at least. “I’m sorry I put you in danger.”
‘You should be.’ He shook the thought away, shoving it deep into the dark corner of his heart that should never see the light of day, the part he hid all his irritation and resentment for his classmates. “W-Well, hey, it’s like you said! If we live our whole lives fearing danger, we can’t ever move forward!” He laughed awkwardly, scratching his cheek. “Or, something like that, at least.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and she smiled. “Of course. Now, come on. We’re wasting daylight.”
--
‘Another crisis averted, another trial. Wait, no......that’s not how that goes.’ Makoto stared down Monokuma, feeling like he was missing something. Everyone had banded together to expose the mastermind, presenting evidence after hint after clue all left around the school in increasingly odd places. The one thing they didn’t have, however, were Makoto’s visions. For one thing, he wasn’t sure if they were even true. For another, there’s no way he’d tell them even if they were. They’d never trust him again!
“The mastermind is none other than Enoshima Junko!” Kirigiri said, pointing at Monokuma like a character out of Ace Attorney. Makoto frowned slightly, feeling like a huge plot twist was about to happen. Something that nobody would be happy with.
Monokuma started giggling, then laughing, then full-on cackling. “Is it? Issss ittttt?” he asked, rolling around on his throne. Everyone save Makoto gritted their teeth, ready for this to just be over already. Makoto, on the other hand, was battling the dread sinking like a lead weight in his stomach.
Everyone flinched back when Monokuma disappeared in a plume of smoke, his robotic voice replaced by a high, clear laugh. A laugh that was way too familiar to Makoto, even if he’d only heard it in his dreams.
Enoshima Junko had arrived.
“Hellooooooo, students of Hope’s Peak Academy!” she cheered, her voice holding a regal tone to it. Makoto swore he saw a crown on her head, but it was just a trick of the light. Enoshima smirked, looking down her nose at them. Monokuma sat between her feet, now just a limp stuffed toy.
Togami crossed his arms, sneering at her. “Well? Did we get it right or not?” he asked, his own imperialistic tone a solid rival for Enoshima’s. She grinned, shifting her stance in a flurry of movement until she was curled in on herself, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. She looked over at Makoto, practically drooling.
“Can I tell them, Mako-chan? Can I? Can I?” she asked, no, begged, like it would cause her physical pain if he refused. Everyone turned to look at him, varying expressions of shock and anger on their faces.
“Naegi? What does she mean?” Togami demanded. But Makoto didn’t hear. His brain was a million miles away, rushing through a million thoughts at once. Snippets of conversations, memories of times gone by (yet to come?), long hours in empty classrooms working out his plan......It was all right there, in vivid detail.
He is the mastermind.
A smirk creeped slowly across his face as he stared down at his podium, eyes shadowed by his bangs. He chuckled low in his chest, fingers curling on the metal bar. “N-Naegs? Are you......Are you okay, little dude?” Hagakure asked, a cold sweat breaking out at the small of his back.
“Go ahead.” His voice startled everyone, and not in a good way. It wasn’t different, just......darker. More cynical, angry, even. Enoshima cheered, punching the air and shifting her stance yet again to a cutesy pose, complete with a hand under her chin.
“See, Mako-chan and I made this trap together! He was the brains, I was the brawn, y’know? He was sick and tired of all of you treating him like a wil’ kid, or your therapist!” She giggled, but halfway through it morphed into a harsh cackle as she shifted again, this time donning an angry face. “He decided that he needed to teach you punks a lesson! So we locked all of ya up in this school, got rid of everyone else, and started your Punishment Time!”
“P-Punishment Time?! W-Why?!” Asahina demanded, glaring at Enoshima and gripping the iron bar on her podium tightly. Enoshima grinned sickly, but instead of answering, she waved at Makoto.
“Why don’t you tell ‘em, Naegi?” He straightened up, crossing his arms loosely on his podium and leaning on them.
“My memory is spotty, at best, but I’ve been slowly remembering over the last few days. You all treated me like I was lesser than you, and maybe I am. Maybe all I am is talentless trash, but the fact remains that I was just as much a student of this school as any of you. And yet, you all treated me like garbage.” He glared at them all, shoulders tensing slightly. “You all needed to pay. So what better way than to show you what it feels like, to live in constant misery, where talents mean jack shit?” He smiled humorlessly, relishing their betrayed expressions. “Not so fun, is it?” he taunted.
“Naegi.....out of all people.....why you?” He blinked, a laugh startled out of him.
“What do you mean?” he asked, looking over at Asahina. She gritted her teeth, tears starting to well up in her eyes.
“You’re just so....so....... nice! Or at least, you were. What the heck changed?!” she snapped. He growled angrily, shoulders starting to shake.
“I’m not a fucking kindness machine! I don’t spew out happy rainbow funtime bullshit like some kiddy cartoon! I’m a human being with a range of emotions and actions just like the rest of you. And yeah, this is sick. It’s twisted, it’s depraved, it’s sadistic, whatever! How come the rest of you can be so cruel, and I have to just grin and bear it?! Hell no! Haven't you ever seen those American horror movies where the ‘nice guy’ gets pushed so far over the edge he shoots up his school?!” Adrenaline forced him into a frenzied state, his rage increasing exponentially with every fearful and betrayed look they gave him. “THERE’S NO MORE ‘NICE GUY NAEGI’! THIS IS THE END OF HOPE’S PEAK 78TH CLASS! DON YOUR FUCKING CAPS AND GOWNS, PEOPLE, BECAUSE GRADUATION IS HERE AND YOU’RE ALL IN AN ESCALATOR SCHOOL STRAIGHT TO HELL!”
The room was dead silent, the only sound Makoto’s harsh breathing. Slow clapping cut through the silence, making him flinch and look up. Enoshima was smiling proudly, pretending to wipe a tear from her eye when she saw him looking. “That was beautiful, Mako-chan! Doesn’t it feel good to just.......let it all out?” she asked, smirking at him. He looked away from her, disgusted with himself.
“Shut up,” he muttered, feeling sick to his stomach. Her smirk twisted wider, and she blew him a mocking kiss.
“You can’t make me, Mako-chan~!” She picked up the Monokuma doll, hugging it tightly to her chest. “I bet that makes you beary sad, huh?” She giggled, twirling in place and dancing with the doll. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot! The police finally made it through the barricade!” She snapped her fingers, forming her left hand into a gun and ‘aiming’ it at Makoto. “Tick tock, Mako-chan~!”
The spell was broken. Everyone scrambled out of the trial room, heading for the front entrance. Makoto didn’t care. They’d gotten their punishment.
And now, so would he. It was only fair, after all.