This Is a Photograph of Me

All was quiet on the high seas. The ferry was the only vessel visible on the horizon. It chugged onward toward the sunset, rocking gently as white-crested waves split apart on its bow. Although sleek and new in shape, chipping paint and dents marred its hull. But these were the normal scars of age, and when the waves smashed against its hull, no water found its way inside.

Such a sturdy vessel was rare in these post-apocalyptic days and could belong to one of only two factions: the Future Foundation, the stalwart remains of humanity who resisted the madness that had engulfed their world; or the Remnants of Despair – a name surely chosen in mockery, for the Remnants had been anything but a fragmented, scattered movement. Until now, perhaps. It was possible the faction had collapse, but it was difficult to say for certain. What was true was that Despair was no longer united, and there was no guessing whether they would ever be again.

But although Ultimate Despair had fractured, that did not mean their offspring had been declawed. Which was why Kamukura was pleased that when the Future Foundation had taken possession of this ferry, they had retrofitted it for war. True, the hull was unsuited for battle and the ship would break apart with a few well-placed strikes, but at least the artillery would give them an opportunity to fight back. He hoped that wouldn't be necessary; they had not taken this ship for battle, but for its original purpose of transportation. That said, if he had learned one thing during the last few months, Kamukura Izuru had learned that with the passengers onboard, everything was on the table.

Someone snapped their fingers.

Kamukura opened his eyes and quieted his churning thoughts. The snap had been loud, commanding. It wasn't a request for attention, but an expectation of such. Even without that telltale manner, he knew who this was, for few possessed this brashness.

"Togami Byakuya."

"So, you can speak," Togami said. "I was beginning to wonder. I thought they may have cut a few too many brain cells."

The long stands of Kamukura's hair rustled in the wind, floating with the swaying of the ship. He continued to stare out at the sea, his back to Togami. It mattered not. He knew enough of Togami's personality, heard enough of his tone to know exactly what Togami looked like: arms crossed, smirking, head tilted slightly to one side with a raised chin. His usual look. How boring.

"I'm sure you're wondering why someone like me would bother to speak to you. . ." Togami began.

"Not particularly," Kamukura said.

That smirk would have smoothed out into a frown. Togami was not insulted (yet), but only because his mind was too slow.

"I suppose even someone like you would expect this," Togami said. "Given that you are under the roof of our very generous hospitality, it was inevitable that . . ."

"This is not going to help you," Kamukura said. "You will not feel better once this conversation ends."

". . . How touching. Kamukura Izuru is worried about my feelings." The sharpness of Togami's words pierced through the air like an arrow. Kamukura sighed. What a boring man this was.

"No, I am not. They are simple feelings," Kamukura said. Behind him, Togami bristled at the implication that anything about him was ordinary. "You are bitter. It angers you that you are now dependent on my talents. You need me much more than I need you."

"Wh-what? What idiocy is this?" Togami demanded. "If I recall correctly, you were the one who proposed this arrangement."

"Your choice of words betrays you," Kamukura said. "You cannot recall something that you were not present to witness. And that is the root of your anger, is it not? Although given your unstable rapport with the others, you should have realized that you were not entitled to a role of authority."

"Do you have any idea who you're speaking to?" Togami said. "You are Hope's Peak's frankenstein. Nothing more than a pathetic satire. I am Togami Byakuya –"

"Scion of a fallen empire," Kamukura finished. "Rubble is worthless."

"You're quite the comedian, aren't you?" Togami said. "No wonder Naegi ended up in this state."

Kamukura turned his head slightly, just enough to view Togami out of the corner of his eye. Woolen suit. Not Italian wool, though. Togami must have blown a gasket when he realized his fancy suits were no longer available. "Do we have to proceed? I know why you came here. This was not intended to be a friendly conversation. You should pick your enemies more carefully."

Togami wasn't bad at concealing his emotions, but his strategy of glazing over his appearance with arrogance was inferior to Kirigiri's tactic of showing nothing. It bound his success to his confidence, so that when one suffered, the other also did. Furthermore, similarly to how one noticed when a smile adorned Kirigiri's stoic façade, it was dangerously obvious when Togami doubted: the widening of the eyes, the sneer that dropped a degree and didn't quite recover. Yet somehow, Kamukura seemed to be the only one that ever noticed. Normal humans must not be very perceptive, then.

"Don't think for a moment that I trust you," Togami said. "Scavengers like you are always feeding off our scraps."

He didn't care. Togami's trust was meaningless to him. Barring Naegi, he needed trust from no one. Even Kirigiri didn't trust him, but at least she understood what he was, and that was all he required.

Kamukura let his thoughts stray to the detective's upcoming situation, dwelled on it, and then mentally turned away. Togami would take his anger out on her, but his pride would prevent him from mentioning any this conversation. He didn't need to be concerned.

"I don't care how you feel," Kamukura said, dropping the statement with the finality of a slammed door.

He turned back to the sea. Behind him, he heard Togami's shoe landing upon the deck as he stepped closer. Ah, so it had come to this. He let Togami take two more steps, and then turned so quickly hat he was a blur. Togami had significant height on him, but it didn't matter when the Heir was inexperienced. This would normally be the moment that one of Togami's bodyguards stepped in, but Fukawa Touko was with Naegi Komaru right now.

"Do you have something else to say?" Kamukura asked.

Togami would never admit defeat, but this would dull his blade, shift it so that Togami held it behind him instead of in front.

"If there is nothing else, leave me. I am thinking," Kamukura said, turning back around. He wasn't thinking that hard, but it would offer Togami the easy out he was looking for.

Once again, he heard Togami's shoes against the deck. But then:

"We haven't forgotten what all of you did to us." The low timbres of Togami's growl rolled over each other like a nest of hissing snakes.

Before anything else could be said, the sound of a slamming door pierced the bubble around them. Two sets of rushed footsteps came next: one heavy, the other precise and powerful. Hagakure Yasuhiro and Asahina Aoi.

"What are those two doing now?" Togami groused.

"Naegi has woken," Kamukura concluded instantly.

". . . And naturally, those idiots decide to rush him," Togami said, masking neither the concern or frustration born of it. It was enough to finally pry Togami away from this conversation and send him toward the room that contained the most important member of their cargo.

The deck continued to sway under Kamukura's feet. There was no point in checking on Naegi right now. His presence would only make things worse, and there was a good chance the others would blame him for that.

His brow furrowed. Yes, he needed to be careful about that. For that last thing Togami said to him before the others interrupted their conversation . . .

Kamukura hadn't expected that.

The woolen blanket tickled his nose. Naegi didn't move away. He wasn't sure he could. In a word, he felt weak. It felt like someone had unscrewed his limbs from their sockets so that while he still could feel their weight, they didn't move. He tried to open his eyes, but they fluttered closed a second later. Even his hair had a heavy weight to it.

But the small movement of his eyelids had not gone unnoticed. Hair rose on the back of his neck as something moved in the room. This was a bed. This must be his room. It was probably Kamukura. Or maybe Komaeda. That oddly didn't make the chills go away.

"Makoto?"

The voice was quiet and unfamiliar. Must be a Monokuma. He didn't know Soda had programmed them to use his first name, but it wasn't too surprising; Soda had missed him when he ran away.

"Makoto?"

Something touched his shoulder. He wanted to swat it away, but he was tired and the Monokuma would only interpret that as a signal to keep tapping until he went mad.

A heavy groan filled the air. "You're doing that again? I-is this why I never got a good sleep in Towa City?"

"I'm telling you, I saw him move!"

He still didn't recognize the first voice and honestly, he hadn't recognized the second until it stuttered. Something hard gathered in his belly, crouching low like a snake about to strike. Why Fukawa of all people? Genocider Shou would have been a much better choice if the Imposter wanted to intimidate someone. Unless the point was that the Imposter wasn't trying to look dangerous.

As he imagined a super-skinny Genocider going after the Future Foundation (he wondered how the Imposter would mimic the tongue), memories trickled back to him. There had been an incident. A mutiny, with his own friends as the instigators. Komaeda had listed the Imposter as one of that traitors, and now Naegi was here with him . . .

He wasn't afraid. The Imposter was his friend. But his eyes still opened because he had to figure out what was going on. His eyes adjusted to the inside light smoothly, snapping the picture before him into focus: the Imposter, gnawing on the end of a pen with frustration as she (he?) glared at something near him.

"Togami . . . Fukawa-san," he croaked. It would be so nice once the Imposter adopted his own name. "Where's Komaeda-kun?"

The Imposter stared at him. His pen lowered onto the desk. "Oh. He is awake."

"See? I told you!" That last sentence came out as a strangled gasp, as if its owner was trying very hard not to scream. A large weight landed on the bed next to him and there were hands grabbing his upper arms, and the hard bones of a face pressing into his back. "I'm so glad you're finally awake! Everyone thought you wouldn't wake up for at least another hour so they're eating dinner, but Touko-chan and I didn't want to leave you alone."

"D-don't drag me into this!" The Imposter pointed at the person on his back. "I'm only here b-because your brother complex can't be trusted!"

The stranger laughed. "We know you're lying. Right, Makoto? Makoto?"

The weight was pinning him against the bed. He forced himself to swallow the blockage in his throat. The stranger was addressing him. They wanted something from him. The pounding of his heart made blood flow through his brain faster, rewound his memories faster until they were far before the mutiny. Grabbing him, holding him here . . . but they acted friendly and they were pinning him and laughing and that meant. . . Bad. Bad. Bad. He'd done something wrong. Komaeda wasn't here because he was angry, and he had sent this person in his stead.

"Wh-what are you doing? Get off him," Fukawa said.

The weight disappeared from his back. Naegi shuddered and gasped because he hadn't realized he was holding back tears.

"Makoto?" That quiet voice spoke up again. "I'm sorry. Do I . . . do I really weigh that much?"

(In the background, there was the distinct sound of a palm meeting a forehead.)

Naegi turned his head and finally saw who the stranger was. And suddenly, nothing made sense anymore. He stared at one woman (man?), then at the other (or was that the Imposter?), and back and forth until he grew dizzy.

"Which one of you is the Imposter?" His insides shrivelled. He couldn't tell which answer would be worse.

"We're not imposters!" The girl who looked like his sister grabbed his hand and pulled it tight to her chest so he couldn't escape. "It's me! It's really me!"

"Komaru?" he whispered. That didn't make any sense. Ultimate Despair was squabbling amongst themselves; where did that leave room for Komaru to fit in? How in the world had Komaru gotten inside his room . . . ? Okay, so it wasn't his room or Kamukura's room, but the point still stood . . .

. . . Where was he?

For the first time, he looked around. This room looked nothing like the ones he knew. The floors at Ultimate Despair's headquarters had always been carpeted or cement. This floor was made of wooden planks. It wasn't small, per say, and had more than enough room for the bunkbed, desk and closet, but it was smaller than his dorm room at Hope's Peak had been. In the center of the back wall, between his bunk and the top one, there was a large, circular window with a metal frame. He forced himself to his knees, laid his hand against the glass and looked outside. Water. All he saw was water.

Ultimate Despair lived nowhere near water. He knew that. He had looked outside, been outside – there wasn't anywhere nearby with this much water. Where was he? Where were they?

"Are you getting seasick?" Komaru asked anxiously as she hovered behind his shoulder, still squeezing his hand. "You look a little grey. I can get medicine!"

"I'm going to tell everyone he's woken up," Fukawa said. Naegi bristled because her words echoed with the distinct hollowness of one who wasn't telling the entire truth.

He didn't say goodbye to Fukawa. If she was even Fukawa. He continued to stare outside, thinking. He was clearly on a boat. Ultimate Despair had no boat. Ultimate Despair had no need for a boat. Even if the rebellion had truly been what it seemed, the losing side would have retreated to one of their underlings' bases, not to the open waters where they were vulnerable. Therefore, this was not Ultimate Despair's boat.

And yet whomever owned this ship had taken him with them. They had kidnapped him, he realized with a jolt. He touched his wrists, expecting to feel manacles or some other restraints.

"Are you okay?" Komaru asked. "You're really quiet."

Komaru. They had captured Komaru, too. But Kirigiri had told him that Komaru had been saved . . .

"This boat belongs to the Future Foundation, doesn't it?" he said.

"Well . . . Yeah." Komaru blushed a little and laughed awkwardly. "But they weren't using it. . ."

He closed his eyes. It was exactly as he had suspected. Fukawa had left to get others and she had been hiding something when she said that . . . Ah, so it wasn't Kirigiri that sided with the Future Foundation.

"But it doesn't matter where we got this boat!" his naïve sister declared. "All that matters is that we're finally together again!"

Yes. For how long?

He grabbed Komaru's wrist. "Come on."

The fools hadn't locked the door. In fact – he had to stop and stare because it was that disorienting – a gaping hole in the knob told him that someone had actually removed the lock. The Future Foundation must have assumed that the ocean was enough of a cage. Outside, the hallway was lined with blue carpet. On the walls between each door was a rail one could hold onto if the waves became too much, and the wall below the rail was made of mahogany while above it had been plastered with beige wall paper. There were doors, tons of them, and if they were all occupied then this clearly wasn't some rogue element of the Future Foundation.

C-23, said the nameplate on the room he had been in. He didn't really know ships, but the outside was usually considered A-Deck, wasn't it?

"How well do you know this ship?" Naegi asked his sister.

"Um, not very," she said. "I haven't been here that long. I keep getting lost."

"Do you know how to get out?"

"Out? Oh, you mean outside. There's a staircase at the left end of the wall, but Touko-chan's going to come back soon. . ."

She had seemed confused by his question. Perhaps she couldn't see the path to freedom, or she had already given up. Disappointing, but he couldn't blame her. She wasn't Hope, after all.

Left, she had said. Left, they went. Then up the half-landing stairs that reminded him of a set in a horror film. The first door, the one to B-Deck, lurched into reach. He tried to run to the stairs leading to A-Deck, but Komaru suddenly planted her feet and the resistance nearly sent him to the ground.

"Wait!" Komaru said. "I think we're storing some extra clothes in a storeroom here."

Naegi grimaced and rubbed his wrist. Komaru stood there and stared thoughtfully at B-Deck. It was like she hadn't even noticed that he had tried to drag her up the stairs. It didn't feel right. And as he checked her over, she didn't look right either. She was bigger than he remembered. Not just in height, but in presence. She stood tall, shoulders open in an expression of confidence; it wasn't the meek, normal stance of someone who had accepted their normality. Her cheeks had lost much of their baby fat, and her biceps had likewise hardened into something more mature. Plus, there was the brand-new ahoge; apparently, it truly was a family trait.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but your clothes . . . they have a lot of blood on them," Komaru continued, oblivious to his prying gaze. "I would have gotten you something clean, but Kirigiri-san thought it would better if we didn't change you while you were asleep."

He glanced downward. He was wearing the same clothes as he remembered, and they were stained with blood. With Komaeda's blood, he realized in horror. From when he had pretended to kill Komaru.

Where was Komaeda? He didn't remember leaving him. He didn't remember meeting the Future Foundation. And the Future Foundation was the enemy of Ultimate Despair. Like they were currently Naegi's enemy.

(Like they had turned out to be Iwata's enemy.)

His chest tightened. There were feelings, a memory bubbling up his throat. He swallowed it down and forced it back into the black pit. He pulled hard on Komaru's wrist again. She resisted, confused, but then allowed him to lead her up the stairs.

"I think we should wait," Komaru said as they neared the door to A-Deck. "Touko-chan's coming back soon."

He hesitated. He did, because Touko was his friend. But the circumstances were too suspicious; if Touko was really on his side, she'd understand. If Kirigiri was here . . . if Kirigiri was here, she would tell him he was wasting time. Yes, because Kirigiri was amazing and would have came to the same conclusions as him the moment she'd opened her eyes. He ignored Komaru's protests and pushed the door to A-Deck open because surely, if he showed her the way into the light, she would follow because that's what they did, that's what Hope did. . .

He hadn't literally meant to lead her into the light. However, that was what awaited behind the door. Light. Blinding light as mighty as a hurricane. Light that desperately wanted to be a batting ram and knock him off his feet. His reaction was to grab Komaru, and as he shielded his face in her shoulder, he couldn't say whether it was to protect him or her.

Fingers brushed over his wrist. His skin tingled from the contact. Komaru, sounding near tears, whispered, "You're so pale. You glow like a ghost."

The light making him glow. Making Hope glow. He snickered. How deliciously appropriate. He wasn't sure why Komaru thought this was a problem.

But at least he now knew what had shocked him. It wasn't like he hadn't been exposed to sunlight; he had gotten plenty of that when he had ran away from home. But he'd been hiding from the Future Foundation then, and had spent a lot of his time in forest and under other covers. Here, there was no respite from the heat, which made him feel like he was standing too close to a fireplace.

There was no time to worry about this though. He could hear footsteps, rapid ones at that, steadily moving closer. And he heard someone. Someone male and loud, and they used his name in the same sentence as the word 'awake' and the steps were getting louder. But they hadn't seen him yet. They hadn't known he had escaped.

. . . And his sister was opening her mouth and walking toward the voice.

He clamped his hand over her mouth and tried to pull her backward, but once again, her body hardened and she held her position. His hiss of anger was more like the irritated buzzing of a swarm of bees. He left her and took off around the other corner, hoping she'd follow.

She did. She cried out his name – not too loudly, hopefully – and tore after him. He spun around and this time, he got to be the one holding their position. Komaru skidded to a halt in front of him, arms swinging in circles as she struggled to keep her balance.

"Whose side are you on?" Naegi demanded. "Are you really my sister?"

"What are you talking about?" Komaru asked. "Of course, I'm your sister. Who else could I be?"

Naegi loved his sister, he did, but sometimes she could be really frustrating. He ignored her questions and continued to flee from the footsteps. They were on a small corridor between the deckhouse and the starboard railing, where the wall closest to the water was open. The wind coming off the waves was much colder than the air in the stuffy room had been. Naegi, unused to the cold, shivered.

"Where are you going?" Komaru cried as she fled after him, still speaking loudly.

"I'm looking for the lifeboats so we can get out of here!"

His sister stopped and stood dangerously still. Like a polar bear waiting in ambush at a seal hole. "Makoto, that's . . . I think you're confused. We don't need to run away from anyone."

No, she was confused. Like he had been back when he thought the Future Foundation were the good guys. "This is the Future Foundation's boat. Do you have any idea who they really are? They're murderers. They're evil!"

"No, it's not!"

"You said it was!"

"Um, it was, but we took it from them. It's just me and your friends here."

"I was with Ultimate Despair. They wouldn't let anyone take me."

"They're here, too," Komaru said. "We're keeping them near the stern. Makoto, let's wait for the others. They can explain what's going on, because I'm not sure what I should tell you."

Ultimate Despair was here? How? Why? He'd seen neither hide nor hair of them. And Komaru was in the same place as them? It was like the laws of the universe had been undone. Nothing made sense.

Where was Komaeda? Where was Kamukura?

He ran for the stern of the ship, ignoring the shouts of his name – not just from Komaru this time – behind him. At the ship's stern, there was another deckhouse with a door. He tore it open, stared into the dimly lit abyss that was downstairs, and then took the steps two at a time.

Welcome back everyone to your dose of Naegi despair! I got a few quick things to announce:

1) Unlike TLD and AOAT, this one will not be updating twice a week. I'm going to put it at once a week for now, likely Friday or Saturday, and maybe drop down to biweekly if I have to.

2) Since some of you have asked in the past, I now have a tumblr at blog/arcawolf where you can pm me. You can follow if you'd like, but I mostly got it for pms. (This may take me longer to reply to you than pm-ing me on would, as tumblr doesn't email you when you have a message.)

3) Unlike TLD and AOAT, I'm not walking into this one with a big checklist of plot points and arcs to hit. (Which is partially why the update schedule will be less frequent.) This is more seat-of-my-pants. Which means while I'm not necessarily open to prompts, I am open to hearing suggestions on directions this story could go. Oh, and for those who read AOAT and know what chapter themes I'm going for, I'm always looking for fun new names!

That's all I have to say. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter, and that you'll enjoy this story as much as its prequel :D
(Also is the summary too weird? I thought it'd be poetic cause Naegi saplings and all, but I'm a horrible poet)