8/30/2014

Author's Note – Wow, a Danganronpa fanfic? When did I get into this? Huh.

Summary– Your name is Leon Kuwata and you've done a horrible thing.

Word Count – 1,637 words (Unedited)

A Horrible Thing

Garden Dance

Your name is Leon Kuwata and you've done a horrible thing.

She's dead.

Sayaka Maizono, the Super High School Level Idol, is fucking dead by your hands.

You're trying you best not to freak out – to ignore all the pink that's just all over you and the damn shower, and God, you never signed up for all this crazy shit – but it's pretty hard and you've just started pacing. Fuck. You only pace when you're freaking out.

Okay, you just have to take a breath and calm down. Do the stupid technique the crazy druggie that'd lived next door had taught you before he was arrested.

Take a deep breath. Hold it. Release it slowly.

Then you scream.

These walls are soundproof right?

Right?

Really, they just had to be. How the hell else hadn't that Naegi guy next door woken up to Maizono's fucking blabbering when she'd been trying to stab you with a goddamn kitchen knife or her screams when you broke open the bathroom door? Either he had some seriously shitty hearing problems or the rooms were all soundproof.

Take a deep breath. Hold it. Release it slowly.

Whatever you do, you tell yourself, don't scream.

And you don't. You only start to shake but that's okay because it's defiantly better than fucking pacing. God, you hate it when you pace. That means you're panicking you this isn't a panicking type of situation.

(It totally is, since you just killed the hottest girl on this side of the hemisphere, but you really don't want to think about it any longer.)

Take a deep breath. Hold it. Release it slowly.

So, okay, you killed her. Big fucking whoop.

You get to leave now don't you? Go home? That's what the bear had said and, fuck, if he'd been lying then you'll probably end up beating the shit out of him. Fuck the 'Don't harm the Headmaster' rule, you won your freedom. Monokuma or Monobear or whatever better give it to you.

Yeah, that's right. Okay. Yeah. You get to go home now. You killed her so you can leave.

Sounds easy enough, right?

You look at Maizono – Maizono's corpse, you quickly correct because even if she's still twitching like a freak you sorta stabbed the fuck out of her in your panic so there's no way she'd still be alive – and swallow. Okay.

She's a mess and it's kinda your (her) fault. You turn away quicker than you should.

You look at Maizono's room – the room where you thought you'd be getting lucky with the fucking hot Idol chick and instead were attack by the fucking crazyIdol chick with a goddamned kitchen knife – and wince. Alright.

The room's a fucking warzone.

The red, really dorky, wallpaper is shredded to hell and back, even the floor tiles scratched up. The bed is in shambles; the table's flipped over; the damn wooden sword – because with your luck it couldn't have been something a little more useful – and it's sheath are tossed across the room; and you can even see red hairs from when she'd grabbed at you but only got your hair and pulled a chunk of it out–

Wait. Shit.

Red hair. You're the only fucking person in this entire school with red hair.

Maybe not that easy.

After two hours of work but soon enough you're back in your room without a shirt on and itching for a shower to get the remaining pink off your pale – she was so pale when the knife jabbed into her stomach and drained her blood and took her life and you did that – skin. You scratch and pick at the spots while you lie on your bed, eyes open and lights on.

There's no way you could sleep after that, so you don't even try.

(Somewhere you wonder if something's happening to your brain because there are flashes and they won't stop, but you finally say fuck it because that's really the best response you can think of.)

The very moment the moment Monokuma comes on the TV in your room to announce that Night Time is over you're in the shower, water as hot as it can go. You're scrubbing your hands and arms and stomach the entire time, until everything is red and raw and aching from the heat.

You stay under the spray for twenty minutes plus and, because of that, get a nice earful from Mr. 'Moral Compass' right when you in the door with the rest of the group for breakfast. He snaps at you about the importance of punctuality and being on time, and you personally think he should shut his trap because he doesn't know shit about the night you just had but you can't exactly say that because that would mean questions that you don't want to answer. You keep your mouth shut and ignore him, throwing in a few eye rolls just because.

It isn't until you actually sit down that you realize you had been crying the entire shower.

"Gungnir Spear! Help meeeee!"

There's a disgusting plop of meat being sliced while Junko looked up, eyes suddenly a shining glassy reflection. Her form became drooped within seconds, like a little puppet whose strings have been cut.

"…This wasn't…supposed to ha-happen…" She gurgled desperately. Junko's hands blindly groped at her chest and for once you don't even care how visible her tits are because there's blood gushing out of them. "Why would you– I don't und-understa…" Blood spilt down her chin and stuck to her pale – palepalepalepale Maizono was so palepalepale – neck in a gory necklace. Her head twitched on her neck but was utterly still at the same time.

Monokuma laughs and you want to scream again. This time you don't have soundproof walls.

Take a deep breath. Hold it. Release it slowly.

Junko's body flopped to the floor with a wet thud. Her eyes are still wide and big and open and you think you can see something black on the back of her right hand but there's so much pink covering it that it's probably just your eyes fucking up.

"Oopsie, my bad! Paw slipped."

The rest of the room screams for you.

"You fucking retard!" You shout and scream and howl, you might as well be fucking yodeling, but Naegi's face doesn't change. "There isn't even any proof! You don't have shit on me!"

But he does.

He has so much that your brain has butterflies and your stomach is spinning and you're pretty sure that it should be the other way around, but who the fuck even cares anymore? You don't.

"You're the only person who would have been able to throw Hagakure's ball to hit the switch." Naegi insists, like he trying to convince everyone that he's right when they all already know he is. "Maizono wrote your name as her dying message, Leon."

You want to punch him, or maybe just stab him too, because some no-name brat doesn't have the right to say your name. You're famous and you're going to be a Super High School Level Musician once you get out of this hell hole, but for now you've just gotta be a SHSL Baseball Star and you decided you're okay with that for the time being, but you won't be forever so you have to start your singing career soon.

Your mouth spits out the first bullshit words that come to mind, hands shaking in tight fists and face probably flushed.

"You fucking bastard! That isn't proof! Maybe that's how she writes your name!"

Naegi almost looks embarrassed for you. "What?" He shakes his head and frowns at you with pity. Your face, if it isn't already a burning angry crimson, probably is now. "Leon, it's over."

And it is.

Words – apologies, excuses, reasoning, anything you can think to say and plead – spill out of your mouth as your knees collapse and your eyes burn with hot tears. You pull at your hair and stare at the rest of your classmates desperately, but none of them can even fucking look at you. You probably wouldn't be able to look at you either.

"Now to the main event!" Monokuma's paws rubbed together in excitement while you slam on the door that led to the elevator that led upstairs that led out until your hands are bruised. He snickers at you. "Punishment time!"

The red button lets out a happy little click when the mallet hits it.

And as a chain (WHERE THE FUCK DID THAT COME FROM?) closes around your neck and starts to drag you backwards, screaming and kicking all the while, you can't help but feel something bubbling in deep your gut. Something warm and sticky and loving; something that feels almost like friendship – forgotten friendship, maybe – but kinda like cheesy love too.

A pole hits your back and you can feel the bruise start to form immediately. From the pole come metal bands and from the ground comes out a pitching machine, a loud whirring buzz coming from its inner workings as the balls load in. Your head is still quivering with butterflies and your stomach spinning so fast you think you're about to throw up but somehow you don't and manage to look up instead. Behind the pitcher is a tall metal fence and behind that are the rest of them and they don't have the right to look so scared when you're the one about to die and your about to die and Monofucker is about to kill you–

You lock eyes with Naegi, the brat you figured it out. He's shaking.

Take a deep breath. Hold it. Release it slowly.

Don't scream, you beg yourself, don't scream.

Then the baseballs come and everything turns black and pink and pain.

You're screaming the entire time.

Author's Note – The title 'Garden Dance' comes from the kanji that make up Maizono's name. 舞園 さやか

Her family name is written with the kanji for 'dance' (舞) and 'garden' (園), so it means "Garden Dance".