Where Talent Goes to Die: Side Stories

Welcome to the side stories for my Danganronpa fic, Where Talent Goes to Die. I recommend that you get caught up with the main fic before reading these, but there will be spoiler alerts, showing which ones are safe to read based on your progress. As such, you can feel free to read FTE chains while progressing through the story, and doing so may help lend insights into certain characters' actions.

Free Time Events: Shiro Kurogane

EVENT 1: Kurogane-kun is still hesitant to accept my apology, but at the very least, he's willing to talk.

I spent some time talking with Kurogane-kun about possible escape routes. After running out of things to discuss, we stood there a moment, until I noticed that he was eyeing me warily.

"If you want something with me, Miura, spit it out," Kurogane-kun said. "Even in a situation like this, my time is very valuable."

"I wanted to apologize to you, Kurogane-kun," I said, "since if we want to get out of this school alive, we need to trust each other."

"That's all well and good, but you need to understand why you offended me, and what it means to outdo an Ultimate at his own talent."

"Ultimate? But I-"

Kurogane-kun glared at me.

"You think YOU'RE an Ultimate?" Kurogane-kun said. "Don't make me laugh. Ultimates might have a bit more talent than the average person, but they work hard to develop that over time. A skill that's only good when you're getting started and wanes over time is antithetical to that idea. I can't fathom what this school hopes to learn from your so-called 'talent.'"

"I don't either," I said, "but aren't you curious? Wouldn't you want to know why I was able to defeat you, particularly if it might make you a better player?"

Kurogane-kun paused to think, then nodded.

"I suppose I do," Kurogane-kun said, "not that you really know much about the answer. Some people are talented, and some people aren't, but I don't believe that there's some god who randomly makes people good at certain things. I'd like to think that everything happens for a reason, and that the reason I'm good at shogi is because I worked so hard. To have all my practice and experience fail me against an amateur is nothing short of humiliating, and that's part of the reason why I can't stand losing to you."

"I see," I said. "Still, you've achieved in your youth what many people couldn't hope to achieve in their entire lives, right?"

Kurogane-kun chuckled.

"True," Kurogane-kun said. "If I wasn't any good at shogi, I'd have given up a long time ago, but because I am, I have the obligation to go as far as I can with it."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"There's little that infuriates me more than someone who has a talent but refuses to utilize it," Kurogane-kun said, "a bit like not planting a seed to a rare plant, simply because you don't want to have to do the watering. That's why if you have a 'talent' like yours, I suppose you might as well actually make the most of it."

"You suppose?" I said.

Kurogane-kun shrugged.

"That's exactly it," Kurogane-kun said. "I'm still angry about you humiliating me, but now that I think about it, I'd have probably done something similar if I had to test my talent. After all, when you compete in shogi, there's only two kinds of people- winners and losers."

Kurogane-kun's answer was hardly surprising, and even a bit obvious. As I got older, I realized that life could be highly competitive, and with many of my peers competing with each other for high schools, colleges and jobs, I couldn't pretend that this had nothing to do with me.

"I see," I said. "And what does that make me?"

"Someone who just got lucky," Kurogane-kun said. "You didn't earn your victory over me, but perhaps you'll eventually understand just how far I've had to come. Let's talk again another time"

While Kurogane-kun was obviously still somewhat angry, at least he was willing to share his own perspective and listen to mine. It was a start, if nothing else, and while our process of reconciliation would take a while, at least we were making progress.

EVENT 2: Kurogane-kun learned at a young age that to get what you want, you have to be willing to compete for it.

Kurogane-kun and I talked for a little bit, trading theories as to what the source of my Ultimate Beginner's Luck was.

"I'd like to hear a bit more about you, Kurogane-kun," I said. "You said you had an 'obligation' to succeed, but didn't really elaborate."

"It isn't too hard to figure out," Kurogane-kun said. "I'm talking about my family, of course. I suppose yours wasn't all that strict?"

"Not exactly," I said. "When I set out for the mahjong tournament, Mom and Dad wished me luck, and told me to not take it too hard if I lost."

Kurogane-kun let off a faint chuckle.

"Well, that's nice of them," Kurogane-kun said. "As for me, I started playing from a very young age, practicing against siblings and relatives in our extended family. Our family was very competitive, with everyone trying to outdo everyone else."

"Were you often defeated?"

"Quite often, at first. My parents and grandparents had decades more of practice, so they possessed an advantage. Even when I got to the point at which none of my siblings or cousins- one of whom is the Ultimate Go Player- could defeat me, it was difficult to defeat my older relatives."

"But you eventually did, right?"

"Of course I did. They were expecting that, though, since they intended to raise up a champion. My aunts and uncles were somewhat disappointed, hoping it would be one of their children, but they didn't complain too openly."

"And what about your other siblings and relatives?"

Kurogane-kun sighed.

"They... weren't so lucky. Don't get me wrong- nothing terrible happened to them- they weren't disowned or anything like that. Their parents just looked at them with disapproval and disappointment, the way a teacher might look at someone who just barely passed. Their parents didn't go so far as to call them failures, but they weren't exactly proud of their mediocre progeny."

I sensed a great deal of pity in Kurogane-kun's voice. Incentives to succeed often involved both a carrot and a stick, and it was obvious that he had no desire to be seen as a disappointment. I suppose it was fair for parents to have certain expectations of their children, but I also believed that families were bound together by unconditional love, which is why I was thankful I was born a Miura, rather than a Kurogane.

"Of course," Kurogane-kun said, "even knowing that, I simply pressed on, did my best and eventually outdid my siblings and relatives, simply because I wanted my parents to approve of me. We can't all get what we want in this world, so if you want something, you have to prove you deserve it."

Perhaps this explained quite a bit- not only why Kurogane-kun was so competitive, but also why he was still unwilling to completely forgive me. His investment to shogi surpassed what I'd given to any of my pursuits thus far, so it only made sense that he'd take failure much more poorly than I would. Still, there was something he didn't seem to be telling me, so I hoped to talk with him until I found out what it was.

EVENT 3: Kurogane-kun is fiercely competitive- he has to be in order to maintain his reputation as a pro.

Kurogane-kun and I met up once again.

"So, where were we?" Kurogane-kun said.

"I think you were telling me how you became the best in the family," I said.

"True," Kurogane-kun said. "Of course, while most families have at least one member they're proud of, that's an opinion based on sentimentality, put to the test in actual competition. So once I proved myself, I entered tournaments."

"Which you won, right?"

Kurogane-kun nodded, with a confident smile on his face.

"Indeed. My matches against my family not only prepared me to outmatch my opponents, but also for the ruthless sense of competition. There are dozens or hundreds of other contestants, rather than merely several, and there are no prizes for second place."

"I don't know about that. I think most people would count themselves lucky to get at least somewhat far in those tournaments. My old mahjong club entered the tournament without any expectations of winning"

Kurogane-kun laughed bitterly.

"Spoken like a truly mediocre person. If you're willing to settle for merely acceptable results, that's all you get... and all some people can hope for."

There was still that condescending edge in Kurogane-kun's voice, but I think he didn't seem surprised. He didn't accept me as an equal, but he was also starting to understand me. I hadn't yet told him about my dream of becoming a published author, which I believed I'd never be able to realize, so perhaps something else was the source of his understanding.

"Are you speaking from personal experience?" I said.

Kurogane-kun nodded.

"You could say that," Kurogane-kun said. "While some of my opponents were pros, others were people who were merely 'good' at shogi- maybe the best in their family or school, but nothing special in the grand scheme of things. Entering those tournaments was a harsh reality check for them, one that forced them to confront their own inadequacies. Perhaps I'd have suffered the same indignity if I'd gotten complacent at any point in my development."

"I see," I said. "If you went up against a newcomer, then how would you handle them?"

"I wouldn't hold anything back," Kurogane-kun said, without even hesitating, "both for my sake and theirs. Not only can I not afford to lose to anyone, but it would be a good wake-up-call for my challenger. If they give up, that's fine, but if they understand how hard it is to become a shogi pro and continue anyway... well, I wish them the best of luck."

I had to wonder if Kurogane-kun knew I was asking him about myself, but two things had become clear. First, he'd been trying his hardest when I'd faced him. Second, while he had no mercy for his opponents, that didn't necessarily mean he didn't have sympathy, either. While a pro like him had no business losing to an amateur like me, it had happened despite his best efforts. I'd long known why he'd been angry, but hadn't fully understood the depth of his personal investment, so I hoped that now, I could make a more proper apology.

EVENT 4: Kurogane-kun told me what losing to me cost him... but has also perhaps begun to forgive me.

We met up again, and soon ran out of things to discuss.

"So, Kurogane-kun," I said. "Do you have any more shogi-related stories?"

Kurogane-kun shook his head.

"None that I can think of," Kurogane-kun said, "except for my match against you. After everything I told you about how hard I tried and how many obstacles I overcame, I trust you understand how humiliating it felt to have to lose against a novice."

I nodded. Realizing a simple bow of apology wouldn't be enough, I got down on my knees and prostrated myself before him.

"I understand, and humbly ask for your forgiveness. I admit that I didn't understand what your pride as an Ultimate meant to you, or what was at stake for you in that match, but please believe me when I say that I never meant to humiliate you."

An awkward silence followed. Kurogane-kun didn't speak or give any indication that he'd accepted my apology at first, but then he spoke.

"Stand up," he said.

I complied, then looked at his face. Normally confident and full of himself, he looked at a loss for words, and I suddenly remembered that this was how he felt after I had defeated him.

"After you defeated me, I was terrified about being replaced as the Ultimate Shogi Player," Kurogane-kun said, "so I went before the headmistress and begged her not to withdraw her offer."

"And she didn't?"

"Correct. She explained the purpose of the match to me, and said I'd done my job, proving that you had the potential to surpass even the best, if only for a short time."

"That's a relief," I said, and Kurogane-kun nodded. "But that isn't the problem, was it?"

Kurogane-kun hesitantly nodded.

"My family... was not as understanding," Kurogane-kun said. "They didn't go so far as to disown me, but they made it clear that a failure this prominent was unacceptable. They weren't placated until I groveled for their forgiveness... much like you did for me."

I was speechless.

"Even after that, they haven't completely forgiven me," Kurogane-kun said. "I know that I'll have to work hard to rebuild their faith in me as the family's champion, and the Ultimate Shogi player. That's why, for me, your apologizing wasn't good enough."

"I understand," I said. "I honestly had no idea any of this would happen to you- and didn't want that."

Kurogane-kun nodded.

"I believe you," Kurogane-kun said. "Some of my opponents were probably humiliated when they lost to a teenager like me, and there may have been consequences for them, too- I didn't fully understand until it happened to me. Losing to you was an eye-opening experience in some ways, and I'm almost grateful. I suppose I should thank you."

"You're welcome," I said. "Still, I feel like I should do something to help restore your reputation- maybe you could challenge me to a rematch?"

Kurogane-kun sighed and shook his head. Perhaps he'd have dismissed this as naïve if I'd brought it up earlier, but now, he seemed to honestly understand that I was trying to make amends with him.

"That wouldn't do much good," Kurogane-kun said, "since for a pro, losing to an amateur is humiliating, but defeating an amateur proves nothing. Besides, everyone probably knows that you're not up to the same level you were when you first beat me."

"Oh," I said. "Still, I'm sure you'd win."

Kurogane-kun nodded.

"Then again, if you'd ask to play me knowing your odds, then you're brave, if nothing else," Kurogane-kun said. "I accept your challenge."

"You're on," I said.

We parted ways for now, setting up a time for a rematch. While I knew Kurogane-kun would win, and hoped that he'd gain the satisfaction he desired, I would not give the match anything less than my full effort.

EVENT 5: Kurogane-kun and I aren't quite friends yet, but I think we're starting to mend our fences.

Kurogane-kun challenged me to a shogi game in the rec room, a challenge I accepted. He kept me on the backfoot for most of the game, and his tactics were good enough that my Ultimate Beginner's Luck's intuition couldn't help me see through them. After I lost most of my pieces in ill-thought-out gambits, Kurogane-kun closed in and surrounded my king.

"Checkmate," Kurogane-kun said.

I looked around and saw that there were no more moves available to me. Kurogane-kun had won, and while it was no great feat to defeat someone like me, he'd proven his skill in how efficiently he'd done so.

"Thank you for the game," we said as we stood up and bowed to each other.

"So, how'd I do?" I said, after a moment.

"About as well as you could," Kurogane-kun said. "You're still an amateur, but it felt like you were actually trying, so I respect that. I wouldn't mind playing again if you're interested."

"Thank you," I said. "I'll keep your offer in mind."

I was about to leave when Kurogane-kun called after me.

"I've been thinking, Miura," Kurogane-kun said. "While your defeating me was humiliating, it's actually been beneficial in some ways."

I was a bit surprised to hear that. Kurogane-kun wasn't the sort to care about my feelings, much less say something he didn't believe for my sake, so he clearly meant this.

"What do you mean?" I said.

"It's forced me to work harder and better myself," he said, "since even the Ultimates must not get complacent. I'd like to think that beating you in my rematch was because I'd gotten better, not because your asinine 'talent' failed."

I couldn't help but notice his talk about my talent was more pitying than condescending.

"That's good," I said.

"Of course, while I'm still bitter, I realize I've been unfair to you," Kurogane-kun said. "You couldn't have known what resulted from your victory, simply because I never allowed you to know. The fact that you put up with me for so long is nothing short of amazing."

"I don't know what to say to that," I said. "Is it possible that you kept it from me because you were worried that I'd blame myself?"

Kurogane-kun laughed out loud.

"D-don't be ridiculous," Kurogane-kun said. "It was humiliating enough begging my parents and the headmistress for forgiveness. There's no way I'd ever willingly admit that to you."

I shrugged. Maybe my theory was on the mark, or maybe I was just grasping at straws- I couldn't really tell. Still, I didn't want to push farther, and risk ruining our tenuous peace.

"If you say so," I said.

"Anyway, what you think is besides the point," Kurogane-kun said. "Once we escape, I plan on returning to the world of shogi. Your talent might have abandoned you, but if you practice enough, you might just be able to challenge me for real. It's not especially likely, but that might be nice to see."

"I'll do my best," I said.

As Kurogane-kun walked away, I realized that he still hadn't completely forgiven me, and he would likely remain bitter for some time to come Still, I felt like we'd made a lot of progress toward reconciliation, and perhaps someday, we might just be friends.

Author's Notes

Skill: Competitive: Makes it easier to shift the mood into your favor

Shiro's Undergarments: A plain pair of briefs with a picture of a lance piece in the front.

I'll readily concede that Shiro doesn't come off well in his limited role in this fic, and he isn't meant to. Of course, while he's still a bit of a jerk, he's also a jerk who has reasons for acting the way he does, and he does have his better qualities- a strong work ethic, a certain amount of respect for the competition and a willing to try again after failing- which would be apparent to those who get to know him. He and Kaori would most likely never have become friends, but perhaps they might have better understood one another if he'd been willing to talk- as such, this Free Time Event chain is essentially non-canon, and would be inaccessible outside of "School Mode."

Shiro Kurogane

Talent: Ultimate Shogi Player

Birthday: August 18 (Leo)

Height: 170 cm (5'6")

Likes: Testing his skill

Dislikes: Amateurs

Hobby: Chess problems