It was 10 AM when the monitor in Naegi's room clicked on, and Monokuma was shown, lounging in a chair with a glass of something red (Naegi couldn't honestly bring himself to care what the bear was drinking, if it were even possible for the robotic monstrosity to drink. Maybe it was sort of a symbol. Were they to believe it was wine, or blood? He wouldn't dwell on it, he decided). Without much hesitation, the bear began to speak, his obnoxiously piercing voice grating against Naegi's eardrums.
Good God, just hearing him made Naegi vaguely more open to accepting death.
"Okaaaay, students of Hope's Peak Academy. I've got to say, I'm more than a little shocked..." He trailed off, sounding as though he would be pouting if it were possible for his facial features to be arranged in such a manner. "I'da thought seeing the first execution would really inspire you guys! You know- get your primitive killing instinct kicked into gear!" He let out a shrill chord of laughter. Naegi had already heard it so many times, and now, he could only really wonder how many more times he would have to hear it again. "But another day goes by, and no corpses!" Monokuma said disappointedly. "Aren't you just bursting at the seams with murderous rage?!" He paused. "Which is why I'm asking you all to meet me in the gym ASAP! It's a super-super-super important student/staff meeting! Wouldn't want those pent-up teenage urges of yours to go wild, right? Wouldn't do to have a class sexscapade in such a prestigious academy..." He said this slyly, and it made Naegi sick that the bear could joke around in such a disparaging environment.
"Okay! See you at the gym- don't get lost!" Monokuma announced. And with that, the screen went black, and Naegi was left in his room, the silence pushing against his ears with a palpable dread. A foreboding feeling weighed in the bottom of his stomach, like it was lined with lead. He grabbed at his chest anxiously, biting into his bottom lip. The loss of Sayaka, Junko and Leon consecutively suddenly hit him hard in the gut, almost taking his breath away entirely. God, they were gone. Forever. Even seeing their lifeless bodies-Sayaka's slumped in his own shower, Junko's pierced with countless spears and Leon's suspended from leather straps- hadn't truly solidified their departure from life. Grief welled up in the form of sparkling tears, pricking the corners of his eyes like hot needles. Naegi let out a choking sound, the beginning of what would've been a sob. He felt his throat tightening, and his eyebrows dipped upwards. His whole face contorted into an expression befitting the excruciating misery he felt then, and then, as though he were at the top of a rollercoaster, he tilted forward, and completely broke down. His mouth fell open hopelessly, and he held his hands out in front of him as the first tears fell down his cheeks. A strangled cry came from his throat, and it sounded so foreign, so incredibly wounded, that Naegi just put his head in his hands and sobbed.
He cried for Junko, for having stood up to Monokuma, for having tried to rally them into action. Rolling over in bed, Naegi buried his face into the bedsheets, fingers clawing at soft linen as his tears stained the pristine fabric. He cried for Leon- Hell, the guy had murdered someone, and all Naegi could feel was anger and grief at the fact that he was ever pushed to that point. He knew it never would've happened if it weren't for whatever the hell was going on Hope's Peak Academy. Murder wouldn't even have crossed Leon's mind. Or, so he wanted to believe.
Pressing the sleeves of his hoodies into his eyes, he let out a high-pitched whimper. The cuffs of his hoodie were slowly sucking in the moisture, warmth meeting the tender part of his palm and he lowered his hands from his eyes to his mouth. He smothered the sounds laden with hurt, and sadness, and despair, and everything the world could ever press on his shoulders into his hands.
He cried for Sayaka.
He just cried for Sayaka. Because God, she'd been the only person he'd known. She'd been a sense of security. He'd vowed to protect her, to get her out of Hope's Peak Academy, and now if they ever left at all, she'd be leaving in a coffin. She'd died alone and terrified, and at the hands of a trusted friend, and Naegi could only imagine those few mind-rattling moments before her final breath. The hazy image of Leon looming over her, the knife digging deeper into her with every movement, the desperate message dabbed on the wall with her own blood... Naegi had laid in bed staring at the bathroom door, knowing he was resting just a couple meters from where a human had died. Where his security had died. Where his promise had died.
Where his hope had died.
He cried until his eyes were red and puffy, and he didn't care who saw them. Because anyone in their right mind would be in the same state. Pawing at his eyes to wipe away the salty droplets rolling down the sides of his face, Naegi slowly sat up. He was hunched over then, on the edge of the bed as he clasped his hands together and let his head tilt downwards.
He knew he had to be in the gym. Peering at the clock through lidded eyes, Naegi vaguely noted that he'd been facedown in bed for at least 10 minutes. Usually Monokuma or a classmate would've come looking for him. But the students would have some courtesy today. He knew they would understand. No one would come looking for him while he was grieving, and if he didn't show up to the morning meeting afterwards, no one would blame him. They couldn't.
And Naegi wouldn't blame them, either.
But he would go to the gym, because within those walls, he was at Monokuma's mercy. The mastermind's mercy. He was at the mercy of something that would never, as far as he knew, grant him respite. He held himself for the briefest two minutes he'd ever felt, letting his tears dry on his skin. He wouldn't wash his face- not where he would be able to feel Sayaka watching him with unblinking, cold, blue eyes.
Begrudgingly, Naegi ran a hand through his hair and puffed a shaky breath as he gathered himself and stood on legs as weak as a newborn lamb's, stumbling to the door and heading out into the hallway. He wiped at his eyes again with the sleeve of his hoodie, sniffling as depression pulled at his heart. His face crinkled as another wave of misery washed over him, and tears rose up again. He braced himself, and tried to regain his composure. Swallowing hard, he started to walk.
"Hey! Makoto!" A voice called out from slightly behind him- Ishimaru, alert and energetic far too early in anyone's opinion, was power-walking towards him. Even without being able to see outside, Naegi knew the weather must be gray, yet Ishimaru lacked not a bit of leadership as he walked towards the boy. Naegi briefly felt a moment of panic when he realized he couldn't see Ishimaru's hands, and they were closed like there might be something clutched in his palm, and God, Ishimaru could kill him, he could die right there, Ishimaru was coming towards him, and-
No, he was raising his hand to greet him.
He relaxed only when Ishimaru slowed to match his pace, wondering if Ishimaru knew how absolutely imposing he looked when he was power-walking. He was a little embarrassed that he'd thought to distrust a friend, but he didn't blame himself. After yesterday's events, after it was proven that murder was a distinct possibility, Naegi wouldn't blame anyone for distrusting another student.
"Good morning, Ishimaru," Naegi greeted him, though sounding a little more somber than he would've liked. His voice was thick from having cried, and he averted his eyes so Ishimaru couldn't see that they were reddening and slowly puffing up. While he might've not cared a few minutes ago, he was now realizing he didn't want to make himself look any more pathetic than he already was. It would just make him a target. "Look, I'm really sorry about bein' late to the gym..." He sniffled again, and drew his hoodie sleeve across his face. His eyelids felt itchy, having been scrubbed with the fabric of his sweatshirt.
But because the atmosphere was already somber enough, Ishimaru held a brief note of dejection in his eyes as he spoke. "Yes, you were late, but given..." He faltered. "Given the situation, it was unanimously decided that we wouldn't put too much pressure on you about arriving. We won't have our meeting in the dining hall, either, this morning, because of the meeting- Oh! Actually, because attendance is mandatory, it would be good to have our meeting directly after Monokuma's meeting. That way, we can have Byakuya, Fukawa, and Kirigiri join us to discuss..." He hesitated, and smiled triumphantly. "E-Escaping!"
The fact that Ishimaru still believed that escape was possible was astounding, Naegi thought. But he could tell that Ishimaru, even, likely knew that escape was just as impossible as it had been the minute they arrived and was simply pretending otherwise. Commendable characteristic of a leader, really. But Naegi didn't have the energy to consider that. In all matters of sincerity, he just wanted to crawl into a ball and sleep for another several hours.
"What do you think it's all about?" Naegi asked vaguely. He didn't really care one way or another. At that point, nothing could bring him down any lower, and there wasn't a single shred of joy to be found that could raise him up. This wasn't despair, really, no, that was a force far greater than what weighed upon his shoulders at that moment. If despair was the lack of all hope, then Naegi had just enough hope to keep his feet moving, one in front of the other. "The meeting, I mean."
One in front of the other.
Left, right.
Left, right.
"It's of grave importance if it warrants a meeting ordered by the director himself!" Ishimaru said, voice firm. His stern, red eyes fixated on the gate at the entrance of the dorms. "We may very well be in the midst of a student council election, Naegi. Having a student council would greatly improve student conduct by enforcing some semblance of trustworthy authority!"
As Ishimaru blathered on about the importance of student council responsibilities, Naegi looked down at himself and realized he looked like more of a mess than he would wish. Naegi knew he hadn't slept much since they'd been thrust into the killing game. Clothes disheveled, hair permanently set in place, Naegi knew he probably looked pretty haggard. But at that point, all he was concerned about was the fact that he now looked remotely defenseless now.
He'd never been particularly bothered about his appearance. But he remembered how Junko had tried explaining to him the trends circulating through the world of fashion just before they'd come to the school- a sudden bolt of cold, dull pain resonated through him, as though he were a brass gong and someone had struck him with a mallet. Even her brash, air headed personality was missed. Everything about the person that was Junko Enoshima was missed. Naegi still couldn't get over the gaping hole she would leave in the group. Just one person, he thought, and still so much of his heart had been torn away with his friend's death. So, rather than listen to Ishimaru listing each and every chair open on the student council, Naegi stared at the floor in front of him and listlessly followed him.
He noticed that his lips stuck together, as dry and cracked as they were. His throat itched for something to drink. He made no comment.
The two walked more or less at the same pace until Naegi realized that Ishimaru was slightly ahead of him, and he stepped a bit quicker to keep up. This happened several more times until Naegi was practically jogging to catch up to Ishimaru, and finally-
"Makoto, I expected better from you than running in the halls."
It was only a short while before they reached the gym, with their pace as it was. Sakura, Aoi, Fukawa, and Chihiro sat together, with Sakura and Aoi discussing something, occasionally asking and fielding questions for Chihiro. Fukawa was preoccupied with staring at Byakuya, and whenever Aoi moved to include her in the discussion, she spat something cruel at her and was consequently left alone. Really, the young lady was more of a cancerous lump that you more or less tolerated, as toxic for your health as it wars. Honest sympathy was the general agreement- Aoi was far too sweet for her own good, adopting Fukawa into her conversations and interactions with other students.
Kirigiri was hosting mild conversation with Byakuya, although it looked incredibly stiff and forced on both ends. Celestia managed to break the ice with a charming smile and quip, but as that unnerving quality of her sincere expression melted into the mood, Kirigiri and Byakuya naturally split apart and went to separate corners of the room. Celestia then scoffed when she thought no one was looking. Red high heels clicked against the floor as she stalked over towards Yamada. The chubby student was sitting alone, art pad in his hands as he idly sketched something too blurry to make out. As Celestia approached, it appeared as though Yamada had shivered, and instinctively turned around, face losing a good amount of color as she smiled imposingly. From then on, it looked like mostly one-sided demands between the two.
Mondo was watching Hagakure as he cradled his crystal ball in his lap apart from the other students. He gazed into the glass confines and sighed, despair practically radiating from him. Naegi sat, disinterestedly, in one of the chairs that had been arranged upon their "orientation ceremony" only a short while ago. Just recalling the swirling, sickening cocktail of shock, horror, and despair he'd felt that moment made his head spin.
"Glad to see you all gathered sooooo quickly!" Monokuma sprung up from behind the podium as per usual, and flopped onto the stand, looking smugly satisfied with himself. The class stood at attention, and watched the bear adjust his weight against the podium's surface.
"Well? Any guesses?" He asked, impatiently. His stubby, little arms crossed, and Naegi felt a surge of rage pulse through him like white-hot magma. It was so intense, so physical, he had to bite the insides of his cheeks and clench his fists to contain it.
"Guesses about what?" Aoi asked, glaring at the bear with a fierce, accusatory scowl as she stood, slowly. Her fists were balled at her sides, and Sakura put one hand on her shoulder to calm her down. Chihiro timidly rose behind them and guided Aoi to a chair to sit. The helpful, energetic athlete melted away, and in her place was an Aoi Asahina brimming with the same numinous feeling of malice Naegi was experiencing. In fact, as the class as a whole tensed up, it was an almost completely shared emotion. Togami, Kirigiri, and Celeste, naturally, stood rigid and appeared as emotionless as ever.
(But in secret, they might admit that the same underlying feeling of anger resonated within them, too.)
"About why I've gathered you all, silly! Well, let's hear it- what's going on in those little heads of yours?!"
"You're going to prompt us to slaughter each other by bribing us," Byakuya said evenly, a vaguely disgusted look plastered on his handsome features. His arms were crossed, and he lifted his chin, as though bothered by something. He stared at his fellow students with something like haughty pride glittering in his eyes. "I'd wager as much."
"You guessed it, glasses!" Monokuma crowed. "Even though I'm mad you figured it out so quickly, you definitely got it right..." He sighed, shrugging. "Guess I'll just spit it out, right?"
There was a pause.
"Or maybe I'll have you guess it!" Monokuma cackled. "And while we're at it, I'll just snatch some of your better ideas and put em' to use if this one doesn't go over well! Hahaha!" He waited, but all he received in response was hate-filled stares and three more or less unaffected looks from the usual three. He slumped. "O-Oh, well... if you're not all that enthusiastic, maybe we oughta hold off-"
"Hurry the fuck up!" Mondo growled. "Bring it on, we can take whatever you throw at us!"
"Oh, Mondo!" Monokuma said, elated. He made a show of swooning. "I'm so happy! I was just going to let you all off scot-free, but it looks like Mondo just haaad to yell at poor, little monokuma. It's all because of Mr. Oowada, here! I guess I'll have to punish you guys after all!"
"You were going to force us to kill each other anyhow," said Yamada gloomily.
"You know it, baby." Monokuma smiled, eye glowing ominously as he pressed his chubby paws together. The group shuddered inwardly. "Wanna hear it, then?"
"If you will," Celestia tittered politely.
"I'm taking away the food."
The silence only lasted for another couple of seconds, a couple of heart-pounding, mind-racing moments. Hagakure frowned, face scrunching up in confusion and broke the tentative quiet. "What'dya mean, you're taking the food?"
"You heard me!" Monokuma spat, paws going to his stomach as he let out his signature stream of laughter. "I'm taking all the food away! That's it! No more! I'm going to stop supplying you guys with yummy-yum-yums!"
Even Kirigiri seemed cautious. "You will stop giving us food until someone is killed. Is that what you're saying?" Her tone was icy.
"You're gonna make me shiver," Monokuma mocked. "Yeah, you got that right. Doesn't that make you just wanna explode?! Come on, get to it! I want a bloodbath in here! That, or you can slowly starve to death! Can you imagine anything worse? Running out of energy, and watching your fat and muscle waste away, day by day... Hour by hour, until you're all nothing but skeletons!"
"Y-You can't do this," Aoi stammered. Chihiro had tears coming up. Sakura looked stiff.
"Y-You could use a little less food, y-y-yourself," Fukawa hissed behind Aoi's back, but no one heard her.
"No, you can't do this," Aoi carried on, lip trembling. "We're going to starve to death. W-We..."
"Oh my god," Chihiro mouthed behind her hand.
"Yup! So unless you feel like starving to death, make sure you get that killing drive of yours in gear! Let's all do our best to graduate!"
A beat.
"Oh, right, and you'd better start clearing out the food in the kitchen before it rots! I'll count that as littering and punish you if you don't!"
And with that, Monokuma slipped out behind the podium and was gone, leaving his audience of teenagers stunned into another, more sustained silence. This period would last for a much longer time.
At that point, Ishimaru's allegedly unfaltering courage did something it hadn't done since his second day in middle school. It wavered.
As he stood there, surrounded by his fellow classmates and friends, the Super High School Level Moral Compass realized that to take charge of his fellow student body required amounts of conviction that he could feel draining out of him by the second. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. For once, he couldn't take charge of the group. He wouldn't even try. All he wanted was for someone to take his place and lead the class. It might've been his responsibility, but for just one moment, just one second- He wanted to be allowed to be as scared as everyone else was.
"We need to get to the kitchen."
The thought made it's way through the group. This motive was one that would eventually kill them one by one, or would steal two of them away without warning- a victim and a killer. It loomed over their heads, and one by one, they realized the futility of the situation. This would end in death, either by their hands, or by the hands of nature itself, a force too unruly and immensely powerful to ever hope to combat. Starvation, one of the slower, more abhorred modes of death, backed the fear of the entire class.
It still hadn't sunk in.
They still weren't considering murder as an option. None so truly that they weren't worried about starving to death. Everyone anxiously recalled the last meal they'd had, whether the food they'd eaten had been resupplied before the motive was announced . Some guiltily remembered eating quite a bit, and, hands over their stomachs, many thought of days they'd been hungry. The teeth that seemed to line their stomach, biting at every bit of matter that it came upon, sometimes even folding in on itself and cutting into flesh, dissolving indeterminable amounts of fat and burning extra, stored sugars. The hollow feeling that they'd contained with uncomfortably empty bodies. And then they tried to imagine what it would be like to be emaciated and at the brink of death after they ran out of food.
Some imagined what it would take to drag a member of the group away and snap their neck before anyone realized they were gone. But flickering thoughts, most assuredly, and none so substantial that anyone really lingered on them.
Except for one student.
The class rose in a matter of seconds, all chattering amongst themselves in worried, increasingly louder tones. Tears were running down Aoi's face, down Chihiro's face. And suddenly they were sobbing out loud, hands on each others' shoulders. "No!" And Naegi couldn't hear who had yelled it over the sound of tears and sniffling and terrified muttering. But at that moment, panic erupted. Chair clattered and screeched across the floor as the class moved around, clumping together and spreading as each of the classmates meandered about, shell-shocked expressions lingering on pale faces.
Screaming, crying, sobbing, yelling, demands, questions, frenzied worries voiced aloud, all at once. Naegi's head was swimming with it all, and at the exact moment he felt as though he would lose it-
"Hey! Get a hold of yourselves!"
Ishimaru had made his way to the door before anyone could move to get out. He stood, arms outstretched. He could've been blocking the door, or gesturing to include everyone in his address. His eyebrows slanted downwards, he stared slightly above their heads, determination burning away in bright, red eyes.
"We can do this. We can split our food into rations. We can improvise. We are not going to go out like this. We can defeat the mastermind- we can escape before our very last provisions run out." There was a moment where Naegi realized how weak Ishimaru's argument was. Up until then, there hadn't been a chance in hell at escape, and they didn't even know the ID of the mastermind yet. But the sight of their decided class representative was so inspiring at that moment that, for even a second, Naegi had forgotten that three of his friends had died just the other day.
"We're going to be okay," Ishimaru said, breathlessly. His shoulder slumped forward, as if saying that had taken the last bits of energy keeping his posture as perfect as it was. "Let's do this. Let's stay calm, and let's do this."
Sleeves dabbed at tears, sniffling emanated from the assembled students, aggravation turned into what fueled slight nods of begrudging agreement. Naegi turned around, looking into the red-eyed, worried, outright terrified expressions on his friends' faces slowly slip into something calmer, wiser. The mindset that any survivalist needed to keep going. Something strong. It was as though they were a pile of wet kindling, and with Ishimaru's words, not only had they been dried, but they'd burst into flame. Naegi could feel the warmth on his cheeks. Eyes still sore from the morning, he looked around to see his classmates wiping tears away, crossing arms, and putting their hands to their heads as they tried to right themselves and act mature. If not for themselves, then for the sake of each other.
This was what hope was, he thought. Something caught in his throat, and he let his lips part in a reassured grin. Something that could've been a smile if there'd just been more of it, if their hope was just a little more concentrated.
If Junko, Sayaka, and Leon weren't still clinging to his shoulders like a cape.
"Okay." Ishimaru shifted slightly, arms falling back to his sides. "Okay. First, we need to go to the kitchen and warehouse and take inventory. We have a lot of food, we know that already. But what we need is to divvy it up into portions for each student and make them last for as long as we can. Know that this is going to be trying for all of us, and there's going to be fighting and hoarding and... We're not going to like it at first, but we can do this. More than anyone else, we can do this."
"He's right." Kirigiri stepped forward, turning on her heel. "This is going to mean much smaller portions of food, and cutting out meals. We might have to extend our food supply for weeks, or months if we can't make headway in finding the mastermind and escaping. But we need this to be an unchallenged decision. Rations are our first and only plan. Raise your hand if you have any questions or objections."
No one raised their hand.
"Great. Second movement. We may have to hold off on meals, or we'll have to rotate a position where someone might not be able to eat a meal for one day. Can we agree on this as well?"
Yamada's hand shot up like lightning- "We'll have to skip days of eating?! T-That's bad for our health, right? We can't just skip meals..."
Mondo's hand joined Yamada's, along with Celestia's. "That's bullshit," Mondo said brashly. "We don't have to skip meals. Let's just hurry up and find a way out! You need your energy to keep up the search, right?!"
"I refuse to be deprived of food, for any period of time. I'll eat as I please," Celestia said snidely. With that, Togami tsked and, not to be outdone by some gambler, he added, "It goes without saying that I'll do the same."
"Don't we need to eat to stay strong and healthy?"
"Yeah, it'll be bad for us if we can't even focus on looking for the master mind because we're so hungry..."
"We're really going to starve, aren't we?!"
"Losing some weight would be doing you a favor, anyways!"
"M-M-Master says he likes g-girls with... a l-little bit of meat on th-their bones...!"
"That's enough," Kirigiri announced. "This is necessary for us to survive. If anyone ends up at a state where they're rendered completely unable to continue the search on their own, we'll put in place countermeasures to nurse them back to health. The more healthy members of our class should fare well enough."
"We need to get started," Ishimaru added meekly, to diffuse the tension a bit. "Monokuma was right. The fresh vegetables will rot if we don't hurry and work on preserving them."
"Okay, who can help with the perishables in the kitchen, then?" Naegi asked, tiredly.
"We need people who can cut the food into pieces, salt them to preserve them, and box them up. The other food, we'll have to eat over the course of the week, and they should be cooked and stored so they can last as long as possible. Volunteers?" Ishimaru prompted.
Chihiro meekly raised her hand, as did Aoi, Fukawa and Hagakure, surprisingly enough. Ishimaru nodded. "I'll join that group, and we'll get that done. Let's head out now. Chop chop! And no running in the halls!"
"You're like, a living contradiction, dude," Hagakure muttered under his breath as they exited. The joke, which had gone largely unheard by Ishimaru himself, made Naegi laugh quietly, and smiles spread through the more lighthearted members of the group.
"The rest of you are going to need to gather every food item from the warehouse, determine which are perishable and non-perishable, and then assemble all the food in the kitchen, I assume," Togami said mildly.
"You're not going to help?" Naegi asked, genuinely trying not to sound even the slightest bit presumptuous. He knew it would sound as though he were trying to knock Togami off his high horse, which was the furthest thing from the truth. The last thing he wanted was to end up on Togami's list of people he would vanquish the second they were out of the school.
"Of course not," Came the reply, taut with annoyance.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Mondo asked, frowning indignantly.
"The library, of course," Togami blew air out in a stream, clearly exasperated. "Someone has to employ their brain cells around this layabout warren. If we're to ever escape, that is."
"I'll be searching the school for other supplies and the like," Kirigiri added.
"Oh," Mondo said, knowing full well that he was the least bit likely to contribute to anything that 'employed brain cells' or concerned escaping. "I guess... The rest of us will search the warehouse, then, I don't fuckin' know..."
Yamada and Celestia lagged behind until Kirigiri glared at them so vehemently that they could only look terrified and spited, respectively, as they reluctantly joined the group that was heading to the warehouse. Naegi joined them, and Mondo followed suit. Without a word, the group left the gym and headed towards the warehouse in the hotel. Kirigiri and Togami followed them to the door, and then turned to head up the stairs to the second floor.
It wasn't until they reached the school store that Mondo leaned over to Naegi and whispered,"Yo." It was so barely audible that Naegi wasn't sure he hadn't just imagined it until Mondo nudged him and said it again, a bit louder that next time.
"W-What's up?" Naegi asked faintly. The first punch he'd gotten from the gang leader was staggeringly powerful enough that from that point on, he'd been wary around him. But Mondo was staring at him with a puzzled frown on his face.
"Hey... Don't laugh, or I swear to God, I'll knock your teeth in... But..." Turning his head left and right quickly to make sure that neither Celeste nor Yamada were within earshot (Ishimaru was marching far ahead, so it wasn't as though he could hear them anyways), he leaned over to Naegi and asked, "What the fuck is a 'non-perishable'?"
"We just have to cut all this stuff up into little cubes, right?" Aoi asked humbly. "Do we have anything to keep them in? Like, tupperware or something?"
"Um," Began Chihiro, who was now searching in the bottom cabinets. "I think those would be in the warehouse. Should I go and get them?"
"No, I'll go," Sakura said firmly. "If there are containers there, I'd rather carry them back than have you do it, Chihiro."
"Oh," Chihiro said faintly. "Thank you, Sakura."
Sakura left, stony-faced, as the rest of the assembled students started to pile the different fruits and vegetables up, each retrieving a cutting board. They stared, silently, at the rack of knives. The one that had previously been lodged inside Sayaka's stomach had been replaced, clean of any blood or gore, and looking, for all the world, as though it were really just an innocent cooking knife. Ishimaru reached out for the smallest knife, as he was starting with the thinner foods, asparagus, and chives, and the like. He avoided looking at the weapon responsible for Sayaka's murder. It was apparent that knives would never be the same, would never be meant for the cut of food again. It was meant for the cut of human flesh in that school, where the laws of nature had been so twisted.
Chihiro followed suit, taking the second smallest knife. She barely reacted, except to look mildly uncomfortable. Aoi reached out, unsure of herself, before grabbing the largest knife, even though she was only working with bell peppers and mangoes, as opposed to the slabs of meat that Sakura would be working on. Hagakure himself refused to use a knife, and was content to simply preparing the pans with salt in them for rolling the slices of food in. He would be in charge of salting and packaging, as decided. Anyone who could finish their allotted pile of food would join him, until the packaging was also finished.
"Wish we had some music or something," He said out loud.
"It'd just distract me," Aoi said despondently. "Besides, we probably have way different taste in music. You probably listen to, like, boring stuff. Like hippie music."
"Yeah? What type of music do you listen to?" Hagakure challenged, looking up from a massive mountain of salt. He plunged the scoop into the middle of the dune, and crossed his arms.
"Country music," Aoi said defiantly. "Western stuff!"
"Well I listen to that stuff, too!" Hagakure said. "And I listen to hardcore metal!"
"So do I!"
"Yeah, well do you listen to techno music?!"
"Totally! Do you listen to pop?!"
"Definitely, man, that's basic! How about Tibetan monk chants?!"
"That's not even a song."
"It's got a good beat, though."
"You really listen to that...?"
"Well, I mean..."
"... Do you listen to rap?!"
"Duh, of course!"
"Guys," muttered Ishimaru. "We're supposed to be preserving the food."
Aoi and Hagakure paused, each slowly returning to their work as they contentedly yelled song titles and artists back and forth, becoming increasingly excited as they did. And there, in the middle of the cold tile and hard surfaces of the school kitchen, happiness bloomed in the midst of despair.
Meanwhile, Sakura had reached the warehouse and was just then entering through the colored doors. "Hello," She began, bowing her head momentarily to confer her respect. "We in the kitchen were wondering if it would be possible for containers to be procured from the warehouse, in order to store the food."
"Containers?" Yamada poked the bridge of his glasses, sweat dribbling down the side of his face. He gasped, and patted at his knees, clouds of dust rising from his pants as he approached the martial artist. In truth, he hadn't actually been doing much heavy lifting, but you'd never know just by looking at him. It might very well have been true that the heaviest thing he'd lifted to date was his art tablet. "Yeah, we have some here. I should know- I was the one who stacked them up in the corner, there!" He seemed immensely proud of himself as he pointed to the corner. "They're kind of big, though, so you'll probably only need one or two. They only come in one size."
"Three, I think," Sakura said. "There needs to be room for extra spices and seasonings."
"Oh, sure," Yamada said, pulling his slippery glasses off and wiping them off on a pink cloth he produced from his front pocket. He pushed them back up on his nose and turned to continue busying about with one of the shelves. Celestia relaxed on a cardboard box, and while it did irritate her that Celestia wasn't lifting a finger to help the others, Sakura knew that nothing would come of her attempting to push the diva into actual work. She did note that Naegi was working with Mondo on one of the taller shelves. Naegi was up on a footstool, grabbing cans and handing them down to Mondo, who would inspect them and put them in one of two of the containers that Yamada had pointed out to her. Apparently sometimes Mondo wasn't sure which bin they should go in, and he'd have to show the can to Naegi, who would point to the bin it belonged in.
'Does Mondo not know what non-perishables are?' Sakura wondered, curiously.
Shrugging and grabbing three of the containers from the corner, Sakura surveyed the room one more time before heading on her way back to the dining room. On her way there, however, she was stopped by none other than Fukawa, who squeaked as she bumped into a mass of solid muscle. "O-O-Oh!"
"Fukawa. Are you not working with the others?" Sakura asked, narrowing her eyes sternly as she blocked the authoress.
"N-No..." Fukawa said, edging away from Sakura as she scowled at her suspiciously. "I-I'm just... l-l-looking for M-Master..."
"Togami, you mean?" Sakura confirmed. "Are you going to be studying with him?"
"I-I-I... Y... Y-Yes!" And, scurrying off, likely to stalk Togami as was Fukawa's favorite past time of late, the writer disappeared in a matter of seconds. Sakura simply wrote it off- Fukawa would hardly have been much help in the kitchen with the way she was. Hoisting the containers so they were more comfortable against her shoulders, Sakura continued through the central plaza area towards the dining hall.'
As Fukawa ran along the hallways, she felt vaguely scornful of Ishimaru in particular. If only he could see her now, he'd probably have a fit. She snickered to herself. What a pathetic excuse for a 'Moral Compass', to get so excited over something so insignificant. She was superior to him, though. It wasn't as though her Beloved actually lathered that over-agitated hall monitor with as much attention as he did her. And if he did, Ishimaru was either to stupid or inappreciative to notice.
She was just skittering along down the hallway when she heard the boys' bathroom door open. Panicking, Fukawa ducked down the segment of the hall towards the pool, hiding behind the wall. The last thing she wanted was for Byakuya to catch her and send her away from him. She couldn't handle such an outright rejection, not at a time like this. He was her only coping mechanism. As she anxiously waited, there was the sound of heels clicking against the floor, and Fukawa peeked out from the corner to observe Kirigiri, jotting something down in a notebook. She was facing away from Fukawa. Breath catching in her throat, Fukawa slunk back behind the wall, palms pressed behind her, and her back against the surface.
She waited a bit for Kirigiri to finish, before listening as the sound of her footsteps slowly make their way down the hallway.
She frowned.
Hold on.
Hadn't Kirigiri come out of the boys' bathroom? What was she doing in there? She was a woman, wasn't she? Unless Kirigiri was secretly a man. Shocked, Fukawa considered the fact that Kirigiri might be just an exceptionally pretty boy, and the longer she thought about it, the more she realized that Kirigiri might be her type, if indeed, she was actually a he.
Suddenly disgusted with herself, she reasoned, Kirigiri was most definitely a woman.
As she watched Kirigiri turn the corner far down the hallway, Fukawa slowly came out from hiding and stole out into the hallway, peering curiously at the boys' bathroom as she did. What had Kirigiri been doing in there? Was she just into mens' toilets? Fukawa felt a prick of interest, and made a mental note to scribble about it in her journal later. Maybe she'd write about a character with an obsession for toilets, and being belittled in public. Sighing happily, she encroached upon the library door, and, with all the intentional dexterity of a thief, she pried it open slowly.
Without a noise, she slipped between the library shelves and crouched, peering at her beloved Togami from the side.
God, he was gorgeous.
Idly, the mastermind watched the proceedings from the monitors connected to the cameras in each and every room. Were they really trying to avoid murdering each other by storing food and making it last for as long as they could? The whole point of the motive had been to create tension, and get each of the students to fight like dogs for scraps of food. This? This wouldn't entertain anyone, much less the mastermind.
Teamwork, friendship, determination.
Hope.
It disgusted the almighty mastermind.
"Mh. Well, I guess there's always the next motive..."
And then an absolutely brilliant idea made it's red carpet appearance and suddenly the next motive wasn't at all necessary.
No, this one would work just fine.