"If you tell me, it'll be a betrayal."

"Ha, I'll tell you. I have nothing to lose. In fact, I have an idea on what you could do."

"… An idea?"

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— PROLOGUE —

Trained For Despair

— START —

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She wakes to darkness.

The girl fumbles to her feet. The room lights up in response; concrete walls greet her on all four sides and a steel door indicates escape. There is a chair, a desk; a typewriter on top of it. She glances at the door. It boasts a spoke-wheel handle, like ones in submarines—why is that? Where is she?—but she inevitably looks to the typewriter, and the paper sticking out of it.

It sits on a desk devoid of dust. Black keys gleam under the cheap lighting. The girl, green-haired, short-statured, plucks the paper and reads the words printed on it.

Her name in bold:

ASHITA KEJI

… Huh.

Ashita reads it again. From your Headmaster? Is she supposed to know who that is?

Something groans. The paper crinkles in her grasp as she turns to the door, to the handle that turns slowly, clanking a clanky howl. Then the door swings open and a guy stops in his tracks.

… Huh?

He's tall, Ashita notes. Nearly six feet, who stands out against the dreary grey walls. Orange hair, ochre jacket, purple pants. Ashita's eyes hurt just from looking at him. His voice is muffled by a scarf-mask when he asks, "Who're you?" in a tone that seems way too accusing, and way too scary for Ashita to give a proper answer.

"I'm—uh—" she falters under his intense gaze, "hey, don't look at me like that! I'm not dangerous, I swear! Oh but, speaking of danger—are we in danger? Are you dangerous?"

He stares at her. "No, I'm not dangerous. Are you?"

"Huh? I won't hurt you, if that's what you mean. I don't even know why we're here! Do you?"

"No," the guy says, seemingly appraising her. Ashita doesn't know why he's so worried. She's pretty short, with a green-gray plaid coat and nails that look pretty great in black. Is it the nails? Then he says, "Looks like I can trust you, even though we just met... Either way, this situation definitely is dangerous."

Ashita claps a fist. "Ah, I knew it! Ah, but… what is this situation? Why am I in a room like this? The last thing I remember is… Huh?" She frowns, racking her mind for something, anything. Basic things pop up, who she is, what she is. But darkness greets back otherwise, so hollow her hackles rise. "I can't remember... Why can't I remember..?"

"I can't remember either," the guy mutters, before shaking his head. "But we'll figure that out later. Right now we need to find a way out of here." He turns away. "I haven't explored for long but I'm guessing this place is a lot bigger than these claustrophobic hallways. The floor's uneven in some parts, so watch your step. Better watch out for sparks too, the lights can be faulty. And I heard noises far away—definitely something bad, so take care going around corners."

Ashita blinks. "Uh," she says, flinching when he glances back menacingly.

"I'm not kidding," he snaps. "If you die over something that stupid then it'll be your fault. Got that?"

"Okay, okay! You don't have to be so mean… But in saying that, why are you mean?"

The guy scoffs. "That really matter right now?"

"Eh… Then, how about your name?"

"Fine." Impatiently, he straightens. "Name's Akito… Akito Yoichi."

Huh… It fits him. Ashita approaches him with a smile. "Ashita Keji," she chirps, hand to her chest, remembering the words printed on the paper. "I'm the Ultimate Interrogator from Hope's Peak Academy. Nice to meet you!"


— ASHITA KEJI: Ultimate Interrogator —


Her smile falters when Akito narrows his eyes. "You're an Ultimate too?" he says, and what now?

Ashita blinks. "Eh? You too?!"

"I'm the Ultimate Firefighter... Also from Hope's Peak."


— AKITO YOICHI: Ultimate Firefighter —


Firefighter? Ashita tilts her head. "You don't look like a firefighter. More like a fire they'd need to put out… And aren't firefighters heroic and nice and not… you?"

"Tch, like you're any better. Aren't interrogators supposed to be tough and stern? You look like you'd crumple under a criminal's gaze."

"Nah, I'm tougher than I look. It's why criminals warm up to me eventually." Ashita beams. "And know you will too."

Akito shakes his head. "Then you better watch your step. Interrogator or not, I don't respect anyone who doesn't value their life."

"But I do," Ashita says. "Why do you think I help catch criminals? To protect lives, of course. Including mine!"

She steps back however when he turns to her, eyes burning and a threatening aura cloaking his bright presence. "I protect lives… I do that every time some retard knocks over a can of gasoline, or leaves the stove on fire, or thinks it's funny to burn shit in a dumpster. I save them, only for the same thing to happen again." Akito raises his chin. "So you better watch your step."

Ashita nearly wilts at his words (why is this guy so intense?) but saves herself by looking at his skull-print scarf-mask. A symbol of death… "You're not an easy guy to deal with, are you?" she finally says. "But, I've dealt with worst. So lead the way—and I promise I'll be careful. Not like I wanna die anyway!"

He mutters something under his breath. Ashita cheerily goes to follow him out the door, when she adds, "Oh, one more thing. This paper," she holds it up to him, "it's addressed to me from my Headmaster—or our Headmaster, I guess. If that's the case, then are we in Hope's Peak?"

Akito furrows his brows. "I got that paper too… But Hope's Peak? Why the hell would they put us here?"

"That's what I thought! So if that's the case," Ashita hums, working out the only other possibility, and ignoring the dread surging in her bones when she says, "then—then… do you think we're in a Killing Game?"

He stares at her.

Ashita awkwardly chuckles. "Well? Do you..?"

Akito turns on his heel. "We're getting out of here," he says, just as he bumps into someone.

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Hello! I'm really psyched about this fic and the characters you guys will hopefully send in. I'm Kukasabe Swift but I'm using this account strictly for Danganronpa (unless otherwise) and it's one I share with a friend and collaborator of this fic.

A few things to know first:

— This story is semi-AU, post-Tragedy.

— It will be a heavily character-driven story. Murders and trials will happen but for the most part, the focus of this story will be free time events and all the good character interactions/development arcs. After all, I want you to care about these guys. Of course please send me guys to care about :O

— Like most SYOCs there won't be a set update schedule. I hope you understand. If I ever decide to take an official hiatus I'll let you guys know, but I've got a trusty friend to help me write this fic.

NOW CLOSED!

The form is on my profile page; further instructions are there. It's not first come first serve, though I won't wait for an eternity! If you have any questions please PM me!

So what do you guys think of this intro? Me and my buddy have a crazy plot figured out and we're excited to see how your characters will fare in this new killing game. Until next time!

Submitted talents: Dollmaker, Acrobat, Egyptologist, Violinist, Gunslinger, Roboticist, Puppeteer, Preacher, Poet, Occultist, Chemist, Casino Host, Marine Biologist, Archer, Pilot, Air Traffic Controller, Street Vendor, Internet Personality, Mythologist, Voice Actor, Actor, Stand-up Impressionist, Psychiatrist, Con Artist, Runaway, Conductor, Oneirologist, Weapon Designer, Mountaineer, Football Star, Horseback Rider