I'm pretty much doing this because I have writers block on all my other stories. After the next chapter, I will take requests for any pairings you may want, and any themes or positions ;)

This isn't meant to be taken seriously, and will probably be updated very irregularly, just to warn you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dangan Ronpa, or the characters or pairings. Nor do I technically own the concept of Fukawa writing 'Moist Dreams in Malaysia'; belongs to Faulerro and the writers of Dangan Ronpa Abridged Thing (DRAT).

Incidentally, I might as well credit them because they're the people who got me thinking about writing this. Then I went on Fanfiction and saw all the various pairings that people were happily writing fluff about. And so I was inspired. Congratulations. If you write fluff, you inspired me.

Yeah, except the first chapter. That's backstory.

Toko Fukawa sighed wearily. All around her the sound of crunching, the chink of cutlery and a general hubbub of happy chattering from Future Foundation workers as they relaxed in the headquarters cafeteria during their lunch break. Everyone was enjoying spending a brief time away from their attempts to help the world out of its own destruction and enjoying simply being with friends. All, except for Fukawa, who sat alone at the long table, a small circle of empty seats around her. Further down the table, Fukawa heard her name being mentioned.

"It is Fukawa, isn't it? Not, you know... the other one..."

"Yeah, that's Fukawa."

"How can you tell?"

A laugh and then, "from the general air of gloom and doom she gives off."

Another laugh and someone different added, "that and if it was Genocider, you'd probably have a sharp instrument sticking out of your neck by now."

Fukawa picked up her fork and toyed with it, contemplating the suggestion. Instead, she used it to flick her food around. The topic moved away from her for a moment onto the increasing problem the monokumas have been causing before:

"...then again, the problem has died down a bit since Genocider joined the offensive team. She seems to slice through them with ease."

"And it was really easy to convince her to join after Togami got involved."

"Yeah, we'd been trying to convince her for days, even pestering Fukawa to ask for us. Then one day, in the middle of our conversation, Togami buts in, simply orders Genocider to help and she complies immediately."

So that's why the pestering had stopped. Fukawa had been incredibly annoyed when those Future Federation morons had begun following her around the premises asking for Genocider's help, begging her to make Syo reconsider. And then all of a sudden, it had stopped.

Fukawa sighed and happily hugged herself. So Byakuya-sama had stepped in to help her had he; he was so considerate, he must have seen how horribly their pestering had been affecting her. Yes, it did mean that Syo had control over their body for much longer periods than usual and, yes, it did mean that Fukawa would sometimes wake up in horribly dangerous places with obviously no idea how she got there, but there was always someone who'd protect her and get her back to safety (or dust her with pepper, or show her blood which instantly made her change back). Byakuya-sama must have known she was protected, that she'd never be in danger. Oh, he was so considerate! He gave Fukawa a reason to be at the headquarters, to stay by his side. Yes, that's why he must have done it; he was using Genocider to keep Fukawa close to him...

"So what does Fukawa do?"

Although the question, much like the earlier conversation about her, had been asked in a whisper, it had carried across the general noise. Fukawa froze and stared down the table at the commenter. Her staring was unnoticed as the perpetrator continued, "I mean, Genocider helps fight and that's great and all, but what does Fukawa do? She's not very active in the fight as far as I can tell..."

"But really, she doesn't have the skill set to be active in the fight against despair," the older employee across the table said, "She's an author. She's not physically suited for the scouts like Asahina; she can't strategise like Togami or provide intellectual support like Kirigiri and Naegi."

"Nor can Hagakure, but even he's pitching in with the motivational team... although most of his 'predictions' don't portray a very promising future."

"They make people laugh though and laughter is often a good weapon against despair."

"So what does Fukawa do? She's a writer, right? Does she write motivational pieces?"

"Um..." the older employee glanced up the table and found Fukawa staring back at him. "I'm sure she's doing something like that," he said hastily turning away back to the younger, oblivious partner.

"So you haven't seen anything from her..."

"That's not the point though, not everyone here is to do business."

"No, but everyone helps out when and where they can. I know most of the people here are family and friends of real workers, but I also know they volunteer for things like cleaning and such. Heck, even all the cafeteria staff are volunteers. Just because Genocider's doing something doesn't mean Fukawa is immune from pitching in. So what's stopping Fukawa...?"

She paused. Her companion was making strange eye movement which kept flicking back up the table. Confused, she turned and met Fukawa's murderous glare full in the face. Shocked and surprised, the perpetrator turned hurriedly away and began shovelling mouthfuls down her throat to keep herself silent. All conversation down that end of the table, died.

Fukawa turned back to her plate, still angry and upset. Did they think she liked being helpless whilst Genocider took all the glory? No, no she did not. For all her bravo to her friends and other employees, she was still terrified when she went to sleep that she'd wake up on some bloody battlefield surrounded by guns and bombs, although other members of Syo's team did try and warn Fukawa when a raid on monokumas was coming up. And she'd try and write something, but with all the fear and tension in her life at the minute, nothing was coming to mind. She tried continuing the dark masterpiece she started during the High School Life of Mutual Killings but that, whilst widely acknowledged for being a literary masterpiece, was also known for being particularly depressing. Not in a despairing way, but the Future Foundation publishers, who mostly dealt with motivational self-helps and encouragement brochures, felt that the world in its current state would not be the best audience for such a text. Perhaps in a few years when the world was back in its feet and Despair was over, then the world would be able to acknowledge it for the masterpiece it was. For now, they had said, how about writing something encouraging?

Easier said than done. Fukawa had never written anything really encouraging. Her personality didn't allow for it. Even her romances had at least been incredibly fictionalised so as to avoid the effect of her dismal personality. Once again, Fukawa had hit writer's block. She had no inspiration.

"The best way to start writing is to write about something you know."

Fukawa froze her hands in the middle of scratching her head in desperation. It was a phrase she had heard long, long ago, back in elementary school when her teacher had first told her she had a gift for writing. She had replied that she had nothing to write about.

"You wrote this," the teacher had replied, holding up that despicable love letter that deceitful first love had shown the class, "you understood your feelings well enough to put them down on paper. That's always the best way to start writing is to write about something you know. And you write beautifully."

So what do I know?

Fukawa stood up so suddenly it made the female employee jump in fright, spaghetti still hanging out of her mouth like a pasta waterfall. But Fukawa ignored her. She ignored all the weird looks she was now receiving for all the employees around her. Because for the first time in the two months since she had arrived at the Future Foundation headquarters, she had inspiration, she knew what she could write about.

Who else could that be but her darling Byakuya-sama?

But what should she write? Fukawa wondered on her way back to her room. She had tried love letters but thanks to the others, particularly Hagakure, that had gone horribly wrong. It had spent the group fifteen minutes to persuade Togami that Naegi was not in love with him. Honestly Byakama-sama had the strangest ideas...

Fukawa turned a corner and suddenly backtracked to hide behind it again from the object of her thoughts and affections. Normally, upon seeing the idol of her desire, Fukawa would throw herself upon him, but seeing him standing there in deep conversation with Makoto Naegi made Fukawa reconsider.

"...thanks for this, by the way," Naegi was saying.

"Hmph," was Togami's response, "as if I didn't have enough to do without backing you up on another of your unrealistic ideals."

"You're calling my ideals unrealistic the same way you call them naive. Just because I would prefer it if we could solve this war without excessive violence doesn't mean my ideas are childish or innocent, other words you call them."

"When are you going to grow up and realise that some things are necessary for progression? Do you think that I would have become the heir to the Togami inheritance if I had been as passive as you wish we were? Is this why you don't allow your sister to carry around a gun, the symbol of war?"

"I don't think my sister needs a gun for protection," Naegi said with a small laugh, "she can shoot down monokumas with words alone."

Togami made another none committal noise and moved away. "I need to go. See you."

"Yeah, see you later!"

As the two boys moved away, Fukawa shivered in round the corner. She had been too far away to properly hear their conversation until they raised their voices in farewell and the pieces she had overheard sent her imagination spinning: "thanks", "backing you up", "same way", "without excessive", "progression", "passive as you", "for protection" and the farewells. Perhaps it was because her thoughts were on the love letter that sent her mind along that dirty path, hung with pictures of two pale young men, protection required, backed up again firmer objects to keep each other upright.

She needed a pen. She needed paper. Then she needed to be alone in her room, scrawling out the dark, twisted images circulating her imagination.

Perhaps, with a little inspiration from her friends, 'Moist Dreams in Malaysia' could be restarted. And through her talent on the pen, she could encourage her friends to be honest with their hidden desires. Fukawa squealed and hugged herself. Ah! She couldn't wait!

Yeah, backstory. Since most of the chapters are probably going to be various pairings in various situations, this more serious prologue is more how the writings of Fukawa came about rather than fluff. Expect that next chapter.

P.S. the love letter is reference to Danganronpa - 4koma short. You can read it on Danbooru. I would put a hyperlink but I don't know whether I can on Fanfiction. Heck, I'm not even certain I can be promoting this on Fanfiction. It's been so long since I read the official rules, which I probably have somewhere...
Oh well, if I get told not to I'll just delete this last paragraph. And now I should stop ranting now because you guys don't really want to read this bit do you. You just want me to get on with the next chapter...