Sketchbook
A Danganronpa fan fiction
By Shana Lessard
Aoi Asahina didn't know why she came back here. It wasn't like she was an artist or that she needed anything from there but she found herself on the third floor, in the art room. That place just brought her bad memories. This is where they had found Ishimaru's dead body after he disappeared…And where Yamada died.
Why did she come back here, she didn't know but she didn't want to stay in her room, crying, like last time. She knew Sakura would be worried, but this once, she needed to be a little by herself.
Only a few weeks had passed since they were imprisoned in Kikougamine High School and they were now so few of them. The faces of Sayaka Maizono, Junko Enoshima, Leon Kuwata, Chihiro Fujisaki, Mondo Oowada, Kiyotaka Ishimaru, Hifumi Yamada and Celestia- No, Taeko Yasuhiro came back in her mind. The realization suddenly hit her. It should have been obvious, however, things happened so quickly, it had still felt too unreal. She would never see them again.
That thought made her chest tighten. Aoi bit her lower lips, trying to fight back tears… which ended up running anyway. They were never given time to mourn their friends. Each room in which the murder occurred was cleaned so thoroughly, it felt as if it never happened at all. In her dreams, Aoi could comfort herself, saying empty words to herself, like pretending that the others were alive. As if they were outside and waiting for them.
It was nothing but empty hope, and she knew that. Looking around the art room one last time, she was about to leave, but something caught the girl's attention. There was a large sketchpad, forgotten on one of the tables. Curious, she walked toward it, picked it with trembling hands. It could only belong to him.
Aoi flipped the book open and gasped. The first page featured Sayaka Maizono and Leon Kuwata. Both were singing together like they were at a karaoke club and seemed to have a blast. In fact, their expression was so vibrant, it felt like the drawing would spring to life. Flipping the next page was Junko, simply posing as she did in her magazine, with a heartwarming smile. Not one of a model forcing herself to smile but a genuine one. Next up were Ishimaru and Oowada, arms in arms, like brothers. The next one was Chihiro, on his laptop, looking really focused on what he was doing. Aoi corrected herself. It wasn't just focus in his eyes, but passion.
She unwillingly let out a sob. Yamada at first came off as a creepy and perverted otaku, but she had seen his kindness, albeit clumsy, several times. Like the time he made the donuts especially for her. It brought her a warm, bittersweet memory. Seeing this sketchbook made clear that he deeply missed the others, in his own way.
Aoi flipped the next pages and realized… A lot of them were of her. The day she received the freshly made donuts, the times she jogged in the hallway, times she was at the cafeteria drinking tea. On all of these drawings, Aoi saw herself with a big smile and a sparkle of life in her eyes. She closed the sketchbook and fell to her knees, crying as she held it against her chest.
It felt…as if Yamada was trying to tell her to stop moping around. To smile and live her life to the fullest, even in this condition. She stood up, drying her tears, still holding the sketchbook.
''Thank you, Yamada… I'll keep trying to be strong.'' She said as she left the art room.