Summary:
It's strange to think how dying can change people you thought you once knew.
Author's Ideas: SPOILERS I KNOW YOU WANT ME TO WRITE NON-SPOILERY V3 BUT NO SO MANY SPOILERS IN THIS SO YEAH SORRY BUT SPOILERS
NEVER TRUST ME Y'ALL THIS IS WHY I SHOULD NEVER BE TRUSTED
Yeah yeah, I'm a weeb and I use "last name, first name" format, yeah yeah
Also this fic was called "every day's fun in afterlife land" for like two weeks (read: fun part is total sarcasm; there's a lot of screaming, feelings being torn apart, and second chances given)
Disclaimer: Do you realize how dead everyone would be if I owned Danganronpa
Second or None
There's something ironic and tense about meeting your killer in the afterlife.
Amami wrings his hands together, feeling metal press against skin as his eyes narrow.
"So it was you."
Akamatsu stares back at him, her hand clenching into a fist against her chest. "Amami-kun."
He doesn't say anything for a while, and then steps out of the doorway. "Do you want to come in? I have a feeling this is where we're going to be spending our afterlife."
Akamatsu frowns as she steps inside and realizes it's a house - a mansion - and she almost wants to turn to Amami and ask why they'd need a mansion for the rest of eternity, but keeps the question to herself and just follows Amami through it.
"So," he says when they've settled in the kitchen, a glass of water in front of both of them.
"I'm sorry," she responds immediately. "I didn't mean to, I was just trying to catch the mastermind." Tears bloom to her eyes, and she wipes at them hurriedly. "I'm so sorry… Amami-kun, I'm sorry…"
Then he remembers that shot put that fell to the ground, the camera that flashed, the shadowy silhouette behind him, and it's in that moment that he realizes maybe she might not have been the one who blew away his life.
~ / . / . / ~
Akamatsu is stunned with surprise when she bumps into Toujou, the loyal maid who had promised to carry on her wish, and the recent arrival of Hoshi can only mean one thing.
"...Toujou-san," she whispers, and Toujou bows.
"My apologies," she murmurs, her green hair falling in front of her face. "I couldn't serve your wishes to the end…"
"Don't apologize, Toujou-san," Akamatsu places her hands on Toujou's shoulders, pushing her to stand up and look her in the eyes. "You were just doing what you thought had to be done."
"Exactly… it's what I thought had to be done. And yet, what of Hoshi-kun's wishes? What of everyone else's feelings…? I caused them such anguish and pain… and even tried to betray them in my last moments."
Toujou hangs her head in shame, and Akamatsu shakes her head furiously.
"I'm sure they're not mad. They believed in you, Toujou-san. I'm sure they believed in you."
"...Thank you, Akamatsu-san," Toujou murmurs, resting her hand on Akamatsu's. The blonde squeezes it comfortingly. "And… This is not quite what I thought the afterlife would be like."
"I know, right?" Akamatsu laughs, but it dies down quickly. "Though I can't say I'm exactly happy with everything…"
"What is wrong?" Toujou asks, then starts asking questions before Akamatsu can even respond. "Is it about our living classmates? The killing game? Or is it… your memories? Have you been able to remember anything? Past the academy?"
Akamatsu purses her lips, choosing to answer just one question, and the only thing that's been bothering her. "No… I can't."
"I see…" Toujou holds her chin in her other hand. "Perhaps the afterlife is just like a second chance at life."
"Maybe," Akamatsu agrees, and for the life of her, she can't remember anything, and she wishes she could.
~ / . / . / ~
Hoshi clenches the cigarette between his fingers, staring off into the distance from his seat by the dinner table.
It might have been a little disorienting first, to wake up in a place like this and to be greeted by his two deceased classmates, but he's grown a little used to it. Of course, there's no way he's going to be able to get familiar with the afterlife, but he understands it. He's not going to question it.
"Are you feeling okay, Hoshi-kun?" Toujou questions tentatively.
"Don't act like that," he responds, closing his eyes. "I forfeited my life to you. Don't feel guilty. If anything, I should be the one feeling guilty."
"...Thank you, Hoshi-kun. Take care of yourself, please," Toujou murmurs back. He opens his eyes, and from the corner of his peripheral vision, he sees her curtsy and then leave.
Hoshi grunts in response, and just as quickly as Toujou leaves, Akamatsu comes running in. She stops suddenly upon seeing Hoshi.
"Hoshi-kun! I didn't know you were… here."
He leans back, looking at Akamatsu. "Sorry." His eyes flicker to the piano in the corner of the dining room. "Were you going to play some piano? I can leave."
He makes to leave, but Akamatsu raises a protest almost immediately. "No, not at all! I do better with an audience anyways! Would you like to listen?"
Hoshi pauses, then nods hesitantly. "I suppose," he murmurs, and settles back into his seat.
Akamatsu smiles and walks over to the piano, and when she lifts the piano cover and her fingers dance over the piano keys in a soothing melody Hoshi heard Saihara listening to once, and for the first time Hoshi feels like there's never been anything wrong with their lives.
~ / . / . / ~
Toujou frowns when Shinguuji collapses to his feet upon seeing her, his eyes brimming with tears.
"Shinguuji?" she questions. "What are you doing?"
"Forgive me," he whispers. "I…"
"Shinguuji - "
"You didn't know the real me… I'm so sorry. I tricked you all, and you suffered for it."
"Shinguuji!" Toujou yells, and the man starts, looking up. "I… have no clue what you are talking about."
"I… I killed people. I was a serial killer," Shinguuji whispers. "And now I am here, with ones I've murdered. They hate me. You all should hate me. I've sentenced people to places like this… I hate myself."
Toujou kneels in front of him. "Shinguuji…" she murmurs, resting a hand on his shoulder. He stares into her eyes, a look of utter despair buried deep in his own.
She could scold him, shun him, be angry with him, stay silent, there were so many things she could do upon hearing his tale.
Instead she smiles, and offers him a gentle hug. "Do not blame yourself, Shinguuji. You… are my friend. I could not blame you."
"Toujou-san - " he chokes up, and looks away, pushing her away. "I'm so sorry. Please…." he bows, his head resting on the floor, but there's a waver in his movements, and Toujou can tell he's getting tired - he's going to pass out. "Would you give me a second chance?"
"I will give you a second chance," she responds, her heart squeezing pitifully, "I will give you as many chances as you need. Now please, go rest."
In response, he looks up and smiles gratefully, a genuine smile that Toujou knows will be etched in her mind forever.
~ / . / . / ~
Yonaga sits cross-legged by the crystal clear lake, a paint brush between her fingers and a palette in her other hand. With a skillful hand, she mixes the multiple colors of blue and swabs it across the top of the canvas she's painting on, almost instantly creating a realistic sky.
"There you are," Amami's voice grows louder, and he squats down, leaning over her shoulder. "What are you painting?"
"Angie is just painting what she remembers of her island," she responds happily, dabbing her brush into more paint. Her hands start to tremble, and she forces herself to stabilize her fingers. Amami sits down beside her. "Did Amami-kun want Angie for something?"
"No, it's nothing. I just wanted to see how you were doing. I mean, Shinguuji-kun just came today."
"It's okay. Angie knows he killed her. Angie doesn't hold it against him."
"Angie-san… didn't you hear?"
"Hear what?" she asks, tilting her head.
"No… it's nothing. If you find out… I'll tell you," Amami responds cryptically before shaking his head. "Sorry. I was just wondering, although it's probably futile, do you remember anything past being brought to the Academy by the Ultimate Hunt?"
"Hm… Angie remembers seeing her own funeral from a Flashback Light, but that's all!"
"A funeral… I see. There's another mystery piling onto the mountain we've got…" Amami mutters under his breath.
"You can figure it out! I believe in Amami-kun! Because At - Angie is with you!"
Amami smiles sorrowfully at the stutter in her words. "It's hard to believe in a god who didn't save you from a fate here, isn't it?"
Yonaga nods slowly. Amami stands suddenly, offering a hand to her.
"Want to help me with something I've been wanting to do for a while?"
Yonaga tilts her head, but lays down her brushes and palette, placing them beside her canvas and taking his hand. Amami leads them right to the edge of the lake, where the waves lap hungrily at their feet.
"It's hard living like you don't know yourself," Amami begins. "And I know you're probably uninterested in a long speech, so I'll just cut right to the chase." He turns towards her, removing all of his rings, bracelets, necklaces and earrings. "Can you help me find someone I want to be?"
"Of course!" Yonaga agrees cheerfully. "But why did Amami-kun remove all of his accessories? Angie likes them."
"Well… I felt like they were what defined me. If I didn't have all these, I probably wouldn't stand out that much. Here," he murmurs, giving Yonaga half of the pile of accessories in his palm.
"What are we going to do?" Yonaga asks curiously. Amami grins, taking a spiky earring in his hand.
"Watch."
And he throws it, as far as he can, and the only sound that reaches their ears is a faint splash and soft ripples along the lake's surface.
So the two of them stand by the lakeside, watching the splashes and ripples each of Amami's accessories make when they disappear into the reflective body of water as Yonaga and Amami tear off every part of himself he's ever known.
~ / . / . / ~
Chabashira sweeps her long hair over her shoulder, sighing as she sits perched along the edge of her bed in her assigned room.
Since they're among the dead, they don't need rest, but it's nice to feel human, feel alive and connected with the classmates they'd left behind. At least, that's what Akamatsu had told Chabashira when she'd arrived.
Of course, she'd felt nice after she'd taken a long rest when she'd first arrived, but she feels no need to sleep right now. Yet it's night time, and most everyone is asleep. She's probably been awake for five hours, now - it's four in the morning and she still doesn't want to sleep. She just doesn't want to know if there are nightmares or not.
There's a knock on her door, and she sighs, standing up. Shuffling over to the door, her eyes downcast, she opens the door.
Unfortunately, she forgets that one of her classmates is abnormally short, and so ends up staring Hoshi in the eyes with a look of unhappiness on her face.
"...I didn't expect you to know who was at your door."
"Ah! A degen - I mean, Hoshi-kun! I…"
Hoshi pulls his hat over his eyes. "I came at a bad time, didn't I?"
"..Yes," Chabashira agrees, holding her forearm with her hand. A wash of guilt splashes against her heart, and closes her eyes slowly. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." They stand in awkward silence until Hoshi removes his cigarette from his lips and asks, "Want to talk?"
She shrugs. "It's just… weird."
Hoshi walks into her room and hops onto her bed. "Just talk. I can listen."
She turns to look at him. "Don't. I don't want help from a degen - ", and then Hoshi gives her a look that stops her from protesting and makes her shut the door and sit next to him.
They sit in silence, and then Chabashira lets out a hefty sigh.
"I'm sorry, Hoshi-kun. I… I just can't - "
"I understand," he interrupts. "You can come find me whenever you want. I'll be waiting."
He hops off the bedside and opens the door. She stands, holding her fist to her chest.
"Thank you… Hoshi-kun."
"Yeah," he replies gruffly as he closes the door, and Chabashira just stays silent. It's something she's learned from Hoshi - silence speaks more than words.
~ / . / . / ~
Shinguuji flinches when he turns around and sees Yonaga standing behind him, her eyes dark and hands clenched.
"...Why?" she asks after a pregnant silence. "Why would you ever kill people for your sister's sake, even if you loved her?"
"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I…" he turns his face away. "I don't deserve to answer you."
"You don't," Yonaga agrees rather pointedly. "But Angie wants to know."
Shinguuji pauses, then pulls down his mask. There's a hint of smeared lipstick on his lips. "I was young." His voice is suddenly rough. "I thought the only way to please Sister was to give her friends in the other world. I never imagined - "
He cuts himself off as Yonaga pulls out a white cloth from her coat pocket and reaches to wipe Shinguuji's lips. He stays still, frantically glancing away cursing himself for falling into his old habit. There's a moment of silence, and then Yonaga speaks up.
"Toujou-san said I should be more forgiving, and if Toujou-san is giving Shinguuji-kun another chance, then Angie will too. It's what A - " Angie cuts herself off at the end of that sentence, and Shinguuji closes his eyes.
It's strange to think how dying can change people you thought you once knew.
~ / . / . / ~
"The hell am I doing here?" Iruma blurts out when Chabashira comes across her sprawled out in the backyard.
The martial artist doesn't say anything, just offering the fair-haired teenager her hand. Iruma snorts, but takes it and stands, brushing off her pink dress.
"Like I said, why the hell am I here? Aren't you dead?"
"You're… in the afterlife," Chabashira pauses at the look on Iruma's face. "I know. It's hard to believe, isn't it?"
"How the hell would it not be, bitch!?" Iruma exclaims. "Are you tellin' me I have to deal with you assholes in goddamn heaven!?"
Chabashira's face remains stony cold, and she doesn't respond. Iruma keeps talking.
"Christ! I can't believe I have to deal with your punk asses even after I'm dead! Whose fault is this!?"
"No one's," Chabashira responds, "but the mastermind's."
"Well we don't even know that a mastermind exists!" Iruma retorts.
"Then why else are we here together?" Chabashira snarls back, and Iruma starts.
And so, for once, Iruma tries to think, really tries to think and racks her mind the best she can about the reason they're being lumped together in the afterlife, but the genius Iruma Miu can't come up with something, and with a disgusted voice, she mutters, "That's a first."
~ / . / . / ~
Gokuhara scratches the back of his neck, blinking. "Iruma-san - "
"For fuck's sake!" she yells. "You're the one who did it!?"
"Gonta can explain - "
"You don't need to explain! I fuckin' know it all! You killed me to get out of that hell hole, you ass - "
"No! Gonta would never do that!" he cries.
"Then what the hell'd you kill me for!?" Iruma snaps back, her fist raised.
"Stop that, Iruma-san," Amami murmurs, placing his hand on her raised fist and lowering it. "I'm sure Gonta-kun has a real reason."
"Yes, yes!" The big teenager nods frantically. "Please, do not hate Gonta!"
"Yeah!? Well then let's hear it!" Iruma snarls, and in desperation, the entire thing comes tumbling out of his mouth, and his classmates gather around to hear the horrifying tale of Iruma's death, and of his.
They all leave during the wee cracks of the morning, and Gokuhara falls unconscious, his mind rattling with his entire life, on the verge of shaping him into someone entirely different, and the world blackens with the thought that all their lives could come crashing down on them.
~ / . / . / ~
Nobody bothers trying to give Ouma a proper greeting. Why the hell are they going to be stuck with this nuisance for eternity? Surely someone else would want this… vermin, no?
So they don't try to take care of him. They don't invite him to dinner, they don't bother trying to listen to his complaints and comments that had once destroyed their lives.
Thus he doesn't go out of his way to do anything either. He doesn't come to dinner, and doesn't eat anything. He talks to himself since no one listens to him. Every once and awhile, he'll take a shower, but otherwise, he's sleeping or whispering evil plans that he'll never go through with to himself, and doesn't come out of his room at all.
They'll all learn their mistakes eventually.
~ / . / . / ~
"Momota-kun, you…" Gokuhara trails off, and the purple-haired man sighs, dusting off his shoulders.
"Sorry. I guess you know why I'm here."
"Ouma-kun… you killed him?" Gokuhara asks incredulously. Momota touches his hand to the back of his neck.
"Look, if you want to hate me, go ahead. Just know that I did it because I had to."
"No! Gonta would never hate his friend! But… could Momota-kun explain?"
Momota sighs, a wash of exhaustion swarming over him. "Maybe later, Gonta. I'm beat. I just freakin' died, dude."
"Ah, yes! Okay! Ask Toujou-san where your room is!"
"Yeah, will do. I'll come find you later, okay big guy?"
"Okay!"
Momota sleeps for a whole day and a half. And who can blame him? Shinguuji still holds the record - sleeping three whole days in a row after he arrived - but they've all grown used to a new arrival sleeping for a time that's extravagantly long.
Eventually, the scraggly man stumbles out of his room to join the rest of them for dinner.
Chabashira turns at the sound of his footsteps, and she smiles. "Momota-kun. You're awake."
"Yeah," he grunts. "Are we having dinner? I thought we didn't need food."
Chabashira explains that since they're now, well, dead, they don't need meals, but they prefer to keep eating dinner together just to keep up with each other. They're stuck with each other for eternity. Might as well learn to enjoy it, no?
Momota grins, pressing his fists together. "Awesome. Are you cooking?"
"Well, Hoshi-kun was supposed to help, but Toujou-san had another…"
Momota frowns. "Another what?"
"Oh, you don't know," Chabashira comments, returning to the chopping board on the counter. The sharp sound of a knife hitting the board punctuates her words. "Toujou-san has panic attacks every now and then. It's trauma. From… well, I can't say how bad her final moments were, but you can."
"Yeah," she agrees. "I can see why. Then Hoshi went to help her out?"
"Usually Shinguuji's the one in charge, but Angie lost some of her brushes, so he was helping her look for them. Hoshi's searching for him right now."
"Then I'll help you make dinner!" Momota declares. Chabashira just chuckles.
People come and go through the kitchen, many of them commenting that dinner smells nice, until Momota goes to round them all up and finds Gokuhara sitting along the hill just by their house, his fingers searching wildly through the verdant grass for bugs.
"Hey, Gonta," Momota greets from the bottom of the hill, and the tall man looks up, smiling as he notices Momota.
"Momota-kun!"
"It's dinnertime."
"Okay! Gonta is coming!"
"And… could you meet me here tonight? When the sun sets and the stars are out."
"Momota-kun?"
"You told me to tell you why I killed Ouma, right?"
"Oh. Yes! Gonta will be here!"
"Thanks, Gonta," Momota responds, grinning. There's a sense of apprehension tingling in his heart, but there's also a sense of appreciation, that someone is willing to listen to him. Maybe Gokuhara really was the friend they didn't deserve.
Momota helps serve the food, but he can't help noticing that Chabashira's hands are trembling, her fingers are shaking every time she scoops the soup into the bowls placed out on the counter, her grip is unsteady each time she lays a spoon down by their bowl.
"Chabashira?" Momota inquires as he closes the rice cooker, having scraped it empty.
"Yeah?" she asks. She's trying his best to keep that nonchalant tone in her voice, Momota can tell.
"Is something wrong?"
Chabashira stops for a moment. "So you could tell."
"Something like that," he responds, scraping the contents of the large pan on the stove onto a large plate. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She pauses, then shakes her head. "It's nothing, really. I was just thinking about how many people are left in the killing game. How lonely they must be."
And then Momota realizes that she's arranged the eleven plates in a circle around the large dinner table, but there are distinct spaces between some seats. Momota knows she doesn't want them to join their ranks, but Momota knows she's lonely - she wants to know how they're doing down there.
"They'll be fine. I'm sure of it," Momota reassures just as Shinguuji and Toujou enter the dining room.
"It smells nice," Toujou comments, smiling wearily.
"Are you okay, Toujou?" Momota asks worriedly, setting the plates of food on the table. Toujou bites her lip, shrugging.
"It's not normal… but it's something I've gotten used to."
"Yeah." Momota pauses, then grins. "Alright, time for dinner. Where's everyone else?"
As if on cue, everyone else begins trickling in, and the dining room bursts into conversation and noise. Some people crowd around Momota to hear how their friends are doing, and Momota laughs at their reactions when they hear their friends haven't changed the tiniest bit.
Dishes and forks clatter, and the talking continues until the sun sets, and Gokuhara taps Momota on the shoulder.
"Momota-kun…"
"I'm coming. Sorry, Amami," Momota apologizes to the green-haired teenager conversing with him.
Amami smiles. "No problem."
Momota snags two mugs of hot cider fresh out of the pot, and hands Gokuhara one. The tall man accepts the mug and the two of them make their way up the hill, falling onto the grass as they stare up at the night sky.
And then the whole story comes tumbling out of Momota, how they learned the truth, how the murder occurred, how the trial just went right by because Saihara was just too damn smart, until he finally reaches the end and Gokuhara has just one question.
"Why did Momota-kun agree to go with Ouma-kun's plan?" he asks, and Momota scratches his head.
"Shit, I forgot to tell you that… well, he threatened me."
"Threatened you…?"
"Yeah. Remember how Harumaki poisoned Ouma? Well, he said if I didn't go along, Harumaki'd become the blackened."
"So that's why Momota-kun agreed to kill Ouma-kun…"
"...I wish I'd had the chance to tell her," he mutters. "She watched me die thinking I never loved her."
"Gonta thinks that's not true," Gokuhara responds. "Harukawa-san is smart. Gonta thinks she's always known. If she doesn't know, then Saihara-kun will tell her."
Momota leans back, staring up at the sky, filled with stars he's already memorized. He could spend the rest of his time in this afterlife worrying about his love, or he could believe in her.
He chooses the one she would have wanted him to do.
"Yeah. Thanks, Gokuhara."
~ / . / . / ~
Ouma approaches Shirogane late that night, when everyone has gone off to do their own things without bothering to care for the newest arrival. After all, as soon as she'd told them why she was here, they'd gotten disgusted looks on their face, horrified and judging looks that would probably never leave their hearts every time they spoke with her.
"She's the one who killed us." Shirogane had heard the phrase whispered from Akamatsu to Amami, had seen Amami's accessory-free hand clench, had felt him wish he'd had his rings so he could beat her into a god damn pulp - but he hadn't, and after Iruma had loudly blurted out that she was probably the reason they were all stuck in freakin' heaven together, Shirogane had slinked into the room she'd been given and hadn't come out since.
He pushes open the door and peeks his head in. Lanky shadows are stretched across the room as light pours in from the hallway. Shirogane looks up from where she's sitting on the floor, her long blue hair pooling around her.
"...Hello," she murmurs, and Ouma flicks on the light switch by the door before stepping in.
He grins. "How are you feeling, Shirogane?"
"What do you want, Ouma?" she asks coldly.
"Ni shi shi… just wanted to check in our local mastermind. I mean, wow! The meek plain cosplayer girl is actually the mastermind the whole time! Or… could it be there's more to you than you told us?"
She stays silent for just a moment, and then lifts her eyes to meet his. "You're sharper than you look."
Ouma puts a hand on his waist, holding a finger up. "Jeez. Did you really think I couldn't figure it out? Who do you think I am?"
"To answer your question," she continues, ignoring his angry comments. "There is much more."
So Shirogane explains the truth to Ouma, and for once, the liar who's never faced the truth doesn't know how to believe it. So he doesn't, and after he murmurs the "truth" he's learned into everyone's ears, he throws himself into the void of lies he's built, refusing to hear anything else.
~ / . / . / ~
The years seem to fly by, until one day Momota lifts his head at the dinner table and states loudly, "They're still not here."
Nobody speaks for a minute. The sound of Iruma clicking her chopsticks together angrily seems to fill the room until Hoshi glares at her. She stops almost instantly.
"They must have died knowing they were part of a show. Of course they wouldn't join us," Toujou murmurs afterwards.
Amami nods wordlessly, and then breaks the seriousness with a purposefully loud slurp of his soup. Chabashira knocks him over the head, and when Amami keels over, his face almost dunked into his soup, that's the end of that topic - at least for now.
Momota plucks at the blades of grass on the verdant hill where Gokuhara's usually catching bugs in the afternoon. Akamatsu sits by his side, and Chabashira sits on the other side.
"It's so nerve-wracking, and I don't know what to do." He's in the middle of rambling. He'd once been talking to himself, but the pianist and martial artist had found him and stayed by his side. After all, they knew how he felt.
"It's okay," Akamatsu murmurs, rubbing his back reassuringly when he pauses and doesn't say anything else. "Keep going. We're here."
"I… shit. Sorry." He scratches the back of his neck. "I guess I lost my train of thought. I just… I really regret everything. But even I regret everything and could turn back time… I'd never be able to meet some of the most important people in my life."
"I… I know," Chabashira murmurs, tentatively offering Momota an open arm. He shakes his head, forcing a strained smile onto his face.
"It's okay, Chabashira." Momota whispers, and Akamatsu makes to hug the two of them.
"Momota-kun? Chabashira-san?" Shinguuji's voice drifts through the cold night and the three of them turn. He's accompanied by Hoshi and Toujou, and the new arrivals sprawl out onto the cool grass hill.
"Were you looking for us?" Momota questions.
"No. We were just… wandering around," Hoshi mumbles, and then removes his cigarette from his mouth. "Happened to see you three out here, so we decided to drop by."
"Are you three feeling alright?" Toujou inquires compassionately. They all nod in unison.
"Thanks, Toujou." Momota flashes a thumbs-up. "But we're fine." His smile is genuine.
There's a rustling behind them, and the rest of their classmates crowd around them. The rest of the night passes in a breeze, with laughter and running and talking, and at some point they all start crying, and eventually fall asleep on that grassy hill.
Then a black-haired boy peeks through her curtains at the slumbering forms of his classmates, outlined in a rising sun that's not real, and with an angry sigh, he draws the curtains shut, knowing he and another girl will never be given a second chance like the rest of their classmates received.
