I'm finally back! After... A year or two wow. The anniversary was July 11th so I thought I'd celebrate! And the DR3 anime just came out, so I realized how out of date my story had become... ^_^' So I'm rewriting it, alongside an actual book I'm writing. This is great practice and I haven't written in so long. Finally Shira, Matsuda, Rosalie, and the other nerds have a good chance of having a completed story. And if y'all are an old reader, I'm very impressed. I remember not a lot of people knowing DR back in the day, so it's great we have a bigger community.

Some lovely notes. My sister Renee wrote this with me. Shira Hotaru and Rosalie Alcott (possibly An-Mei will be here) belong to her. There might be some loser references to my characters, but low chance since DR world doesn't mix well with SoM. Also! Spoilers for everything, ESPECIALLY DR0. I can't stress enough. If you haven't read Danganronpa/Zero, I recommend it as there are several characters from there that are here.

The cover image was drawn by my dear friend Mingyung-Aoi on DA! Check her out!

Anyway! Please enjoy! It was a blast writing it again! -Zakuro

Chapter One

Mr. Sandman

"Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe.

All mimsy were the borogoves and the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock… or something something… You know, I really don't remember the rest of this weird ass poem."

I took a sip of my drink, but then I realized that what was in my hand was coffee. And then I remembered that I hate coffee, so I gagged and spit it back into my cup. "Nasty." I offered the cup to my delightful drinking buddy. "Here you want it?" He made no response, he just looked at me blankly. "Fine then, waste it." I slid the cup across the table, and took their cup of tea instead. "I like tea better, anyway." I took a sip, and to my delight found it to be Earl Grey. One of my favorites for foggy, cold spring mornings. "How about some TV? I've been listening to that song by the Chordettes for an hour." I took the remote from the table, and turned on the TV. It was already playing the news. "Oh hey, it's that loser reporter bloke. Let's listen." I turned up the volume and sipped my tea as I listened.

"Thank you for the weather, Carla, now onto the latest news," The British bloke with too much hair gel and obviously had some kind of tanning addiction said, as an image of a harbor pulled up on screen. "This morning, workers at a fish cannery by White Chapel called police, saying that they found the body of a man sealed away in one of the boxes of canned fish heading for Novoselic. At this time we're unable to identify the body, but from what we've been told; it looks like the work of the infamous White Rabbit serial killer, though we're not sure."

I dramatically arched an eyebrow. "Wow, didn't expect them to find that guy so fast." I got up from the table, accidentally knocking into the edge, causing my buddy across from me to fall out of his chair. "Whoops. Ah, not like you can feel it." I said. "Now then, time for the messy part. Besides the mopping." I adjusted the latex gloves over my arms, and dug out one of my custom, one-of-a-kind, White Rabbit cards. I walked over to the guy, and adjusted the neck. "Say 'ah'! Oh wait, you already did." And with that, I shoved my hand, previously covered with elbow-length gloves, into his mouth. "Holy shit, you swallowed swords for a living or something?" I pulled my arm out, leaving the card, and made a face at the sight of blood, saliva, and lord knows what else all over my freaking arm. "That must've been a mouthful! HAHAHAHAHA!" I cackled with sarcasm. "Okay, phase three."

It took a whole lot of pulling, but I managed to get the body into a garbage bag that he so kindly provided under his sink. I dragged the body to the garage, and took out my handy-dandy axe. "Heads up!" I said, bringing down the axe where I assumed his head was… but for good measures I whacked the thing roughly five or six times.

Then I put the axe down, and checked the bag.

And then immediately closed it. Oh yeah, got his head… and also a bit of his face… and limbs... but hey, he was already ugly. I just hope I didn't cut up the card, those aren't cheap.

It was way easier to load up the individual limbs into different garbage bags, and decided to visit the garbage can outside. And also the neighbors. I knew for a fact that the neighbors were already off to work and wouldn't pay no mind to me. Now phase four; I borrowed a plastic bag from the kitchen, cleaned up the coffee and tea cups in the sink (aka, smashing them to pieces and putting them in the plastic bag) and left the scene. About halfway to home, I took off my gloves, put them in the bag,

Finally, at around seven in the morning, I made it back to La Sante Academy, aka, my school. It's a… 'Prestigious' academy for the great young minds of Great Britain… well that's what the brochure for the place says anyway.

Okay, it's actually a piece of crap school. It's more of a 'murder academy'. Meaning, I should really file a complaint about people hanging sacrifices from the tree outside my window. Seriously, it was getting obnoxious.

I slipped the plastic bag into the incinerator by the school's gate, flipped the thing on, and walked to the tree. There is a fine art to climbing a tree, I'd sure love to learn it sometime. But in the meantime, I hoisted myself up onto the lowest branch, cringing just a bit because, ouch, leg pain. Of course, my dorm room would be on the second floor, so I had to repeat my 'grab onto the lowest branch' method all the way up to the window that was my room. I stuck my cane into a gap at the bottom, and opened the window. I rolled on in, and flopped onto my bed.

Then I laughed really loudly to my non-existent roommate. Don't know where she went, she showed up for one day and then vanished. Not uncommon here, but don't look at me.

I could now relax for the rest of the morning, by loading up one of my favorite movies on my DVD player, cleaning up my knife, and pretending like nothing ever happened.

I'm not crazy, I swear. But I am someone who's too lazy to ever show up to class or do homework like a normal person. Oh, and I guess normal people aren't serial killers. Ah, to each their own, as they say.

Not sure who they would be, but whatever.

Let's face it, they probably just said that because they were just as weird as I was. And let's be real; the White Rabbit of Whitechapel England is on the more, not-normal serial killer side of the spectrum.

Mostly because I have way too much free time on my hands, so that's really all I've got for a motive…

Okay that sounds totally insane, and cliche, but I guarantee that my head is on right, and nothing is wrong with my shoes, or whatever else was wrong with that green guy who didn't like eggs or something… If you're cringing at my jokes, it's only going to get worse, you knew what kind of story you were getting into!

Even serial killers have to eat so at around eight I had to drag my tired self down to breakfast, 'cause I was out of milk for cereal in my room. La Sante, my school, is over a hundred years old, made of old wood, ugly-arse wallpaper, creepy Victorian paintings everywhere, etc. Just look up that manga called 'The Dreaming' and you'll get the picture.

The cafeteria, I'm sorry, Dining Hall, still had plenty of students eating, talking, reading, doing whatever students do… I don't know, texting? I got in the line, and avoided anything that even vaguely resembled meat or cranberry juice.

Like I said, people go missing here… not so appetizing now is it?

For me, I just stuck with toad in the hole and carrot juice.

And if you're not British, that basically means I ate a frog this morning. What? The French do it! Just kidding, it's toast and egg.

Maybe.

If there's one thing that the school does right, it's making somewhat edible food. If you know what to eat. First rule, don't eat the meat, could be that girl who went missing last week. So yeah… I've been an omnivore my whole life, but coming here has been the closest I've ever come to converting vegan. How did I discover this? Well, it's hard not to notice an eyeball mixed in with soup.

Nasty.

Well, being the friendless loser that I was, I sat at a section of the table fairly isolated and took a sip of carrot juice. Taking a moment to appreciate the silence-

"Guess who?" I felt hands clap over my eyes, and I choked on my carrot juice.

I groaned and thought of the person she would want to be. "Is it Hilary Duff?"

"Ew, no, guess again."

I thought again. "Mrs. Marilyn Manson?"

They laughed and finally uncovered my eyes. "I wish." Then to my dismay, they sat in across from me, placing elbows on the table, leaning in towards my personal space. "You should be used to me by now." The 'they' I kept talking about was about five feet tall, had short, pink-dyed hair styled in one of those 'all I did was roll out of bed this morning' and makeup that consisted of smokey eyes and berry colored lipstick. Our school had a dress code, which she freely and openly mocked with very low cut shirts and shorts that rose very high up.

Her name was Crystal Lovelace; cute name, cute face, cute voice, stupid to think she was cute.

She smiled at me broadly. "You look like a corpse."

"You look like a French hooker." I retorted and messed with my long, silver hair like those cool people in TV shows do. Yes, it is totally unnatural in every way possible. Get over it. Nobody in this damn place is.

Crystal gestured to her three inch long skirt and knee high 'sexy' stockings, "This is what attracts the gentlemen, Shira."

"Then I'll be a sad, lonely bunny forever."

"You're missing out. With blue eyes like yours, you'd actually be attractive if you cared enough to put on something besides your sweats."

I frowned at her, "I'll have you know, today I am wearing pajama pants." Totally 'in' right now. Don't doubt me.

A different voice I recognized (and despised) called out from behind me, "She's right. You would look smashing."

I growled and turned around, ready to punch him, "I swear to god Wade!"

Wade took a step back, very wise decision, and put his hands up in false surrender, "What? I'm trying to have a conversation with my dearest friend."

Ew.

I looked up at him, grouchily eating my toad, "We're not friends."

He put on his 'charming' smile, "After all this time my dear, I thought we were!"
"We're definitely not. I thought you weren't that stupid."

Crystal piped up, looking at her nails (which were about the same length as her skirt), "With that attitude, it's obvious why you don't have any."

Ow.

Wade shot her a look. She rolled her eyes at him, "It's true."

"Crystal, show some respect to our favorite serial killer."

Okay; first of all he didn't say it right. It's Shirial killer. Get it right. Second, these juveniles weren't my friends but enjoyed bothering me since they knew I didn't have any. What can I say? I am a loner.

Almost.

I immediately spotted my dear old friend Thomas coming into the room and quickly used his presence to my advantage and made my daring, dramatic ESCAPE!
"Hey what's that- whoops!" I 'accidentally' spilled my carrot juice all over Crystal. She screamed as the cool liquid made contact with her very bare thighs

"Shira! That's cold!"

"Oh no, sucks to be you," I said in an uninterested, monotone, sarcastic voice, "See ya."

I quickly got up and left Wade alone to deal with Crystal's supersonic whining. She's four feet tall but she could still kill me with that high pitched voice of hers. And her nails.

And her heels.

Did I forget to mention the spikes on literally every article of clothing she owned?

Mainly her shoes, but that's not important when she is in possession of a gun at all times. Our school sucks.

"Hey Thomas!" I called out, walking fastly (not like I can run or anything) over to his table.

"Oh hey Shira." He said. He was a bit on the chubby side, but I liked him. He was like… You're favorite sensitive mama's boy. (Sorry Thomas)

"You look like you saw a ghost." I looked at his pale face.

"You practically look like a ghost! Are you eating alright?"

I sat down beside him with a humph of frustration for actually acting like my mother, "Yeah yeah."

Serial killers don't need to eat, we survive off the fear of others.

That's not true. Don't try it.

He looked genuinely upset, "I'm serious! You have bags under your eyes!"

"I'll sleep when I'm dead."

As the minutes passed by, more of our little group poured in. I may say friendless loser, but these are the closest people I know.

They were all delinquents. Trouble makers, slackers, skippers, the usual. They sure as hell aren't master criminals. My favorite type of people.

There was Max with his crazy blonde hair and grey eyes. He looked like a really lazy Draco Malfoy.

Ace, the oldest one in the group. He was African American and the only non Brit here.

Lisette, with her black hair and gothic clothes. She looked like that one chick from NCIS.

And Xavier, my favorite nerd. Although he insisted you called him X. You can tell his parents hated him. The guy has a stupid black emo haircut and stupid emo painted nails. His deepest darkest secret… He's actually a ginger.

Lisette looked at me, "Did you kill anyone?"

They don't take me seriously, so I can say whatever I want.

"Yes I did. I poisoned his coffee."

That was a lie. I drank the coffee… Hopefully it's a lie.

X looked at me, muttered a 'cool', and went back to looking at his phone.

Thomas went a little pink in the face, "A-Are you serious?!"

Ace punched him in the shoulder, "She's just kidding!"

Max chuckled alongside him, "Yeah man, she's just kidding. Don't take her too seriously."

I grimaced, "I could kill all of you right now, take me seriously!"

X smirked at me, "Says the chick wearing bunny slippers and pajama pants."

I smirked back at him, only more dramatically, "I'm not the only one that looks like they just rolled out of bed."

The others started laughing and X flushed in embarrassment under his emo hair.

I sat up straight and looked at them, "So what are we doing today? I don't feel like being a model citizen."
Lisette held up her phone, "Let's go to London. I feel like stopping by this creepy antique store."

Lisette liked super old and vintage things. Like creepy baby dolls and suspicious looking lamps.

Max looked bored at the idea, "Who wants to go to an old, dusty store?"

Lisette snapped back at him, "What? Are you going to go to Hot Topic instead?"

"I already told you! I don't buy my stuff from Hot Topic!"

"I think Shira would like it. It's called Alice's."

I put my hands up in defeat, "Alright, I'm sold."

After much convincing (and threatening), we all decided to sneak out as soon as breakfast was over (and I was dressed). We piled in Thomas's mom mobile and we started to drive to London. It only takes about three hours by car and we literally had nothing else to do.

I had found out that we had our least favorite substitute in science and gladly skipped. I actually managed to take off the pajamas I lived in and wore a dark blue lacy button up, waist high button shorts, and black knee high stocking with combat boots.

I messed with my bottle necklace that had 'Drink Me' on the tag and scowled, "Let's make this quick, I have to be at work by three."

Lisette looked back at me, "Gonna stare at more corpses and bloodstains?"

X chuckles, "High schooler by day, forensic at night. Sounds like some sort of superhero."

Thomas desperately tried to wriggle his way into the conversation, "Yeah! L-Like Deadpool!"

Max frowns, "He practically entertains at birthday parties."

Thomas sighed, "Okay guys… Just don't punch the roof anymore."

We, in spite, punched the backseat.

Within a few hours we got to Alice's. The boys, who were practically bored of breathing, decided to hit their favorite stores while Lisette and I browsed. While old stuff usually gives people the creeps, I found some pretty fascinating stuff like an old fashioned medical bag and an absolutely amazing tiny top hat. Afterwards, the guys came back and had tea in the tearoom next to the shop. It was a little early, but I don't think anyone cared.

Or didn't want to talk to the band of traveling freaks.

Both are entirely possible.
Ace slurped his tea in a most distasteful way, "Hey, have you guys ever heard of Hope's Peak Academy?"

X bit into a cookie, "I got kicked out of there."

"Liar. It's some posh school for the snobbish in Japan."

Lisette admired the creepy cracked porcelain doll she just bought, "Why should we care about some rich kids' school?"
Max shrugged, "It's not a rich kids' school. It's a talented kids' school."

Ace nodded, "I heard they want to expand overseas."

X rolled his eyes and blew his hair out of his eyes, showing his obvious and supposedly cool looking guyliner, "Not like we're ever going to get into it. None of us are talented."

I snorted, "Unless you count being weird."

We all snickered at that. Ace shrugged, "Just thought it sounded cool, that's all."

After bumming around London I headed over to Scotland Yard. Aka, Thomas dropped me off. My boots' heels knocked against the polished floors as I entered my office. I pulled on my lab coat and started to look at the most recent crime photos I was sent.

Oh look at that. Those look familiar! Oh wait, that's because it only happened this morning. Time to mess with the evidence!

But before I was about to, I was so rudely interrupted by someone knocking on my cubicle. I bit into a doughnut and yelled at them without bothering to finish chewing. I'm such a rude person.

"I'm nawt interesshed in yer fekin' coffee."

"Hello, Ms. Hotaru." It was the secretary, Hilary, who talked a little too cheerfully for my liking. "There's some people here to see you."

I finished eating, "Press conference is tomorrow, lady."

"Oh no, they're here to see you personally."

Thinking of it being Thomas and making me a lasagna or some other home cooked meal, I got to my feet. "Fine, lead the way."

Hilary smiled. "Right away, Ms. Hotaru."

Despite being a woman in heels, she walked super fast. Every step I took, she took ten. Instead of going to the front of the building, we walked all the way to some conference room we only used when reviewing cases.

"They're waiting for you inside." Hilary said.

I stared at the door, wondering if this was a joke. "Who's waiting for me?"

She already left. THANKS.

I looked through the window, curious to get a look at whoever the feck this person was. I almost died of a heartattack when I saw my principal sitting at the conference table.

Almost.

Instead of being scared like a sane person, I just opened the door and waltzed right on in. "Well hello there, headmaster Satine! I haven't seen you since three days ago! You look good."

He made a face. "Why don't you have a seat, Ms. Hotaru? We have some things to discuss regarding your stay at my academy."

"Couldn't this wait until tomorrow?" I asked.

"Sit." He snapped.

"I think I'll stand." I smirked.

He said something under his breath, but he didn't argue with me. He was one of the scariest people I had ever met. His name basically sounded like a cracker. Just kidding, sounded more like 'Satan' to me. Ironic to his first name, Christian.

I say scary because he looks like Hannibal Lector and the Godfather had some sort of hellspawn. He looked immortal almost and it was impossible to tell how old he was. Worse, he wore a black suit and blood red tie.

Instant demon street cred.

"What was so important that this couldn't wait until I was actually at school?"

"It was a matter that was urgent. Regarding your future at my school."

I actually thought he was going to expel me. People who get expelled from my school get arrested a few days afterwards.

"Anyway, there's someone I want you to meet." He gestured to someone on the other side of the table. Huh, I didn't notice them earlier. "This is Koichi Kizakura, or Mr. Kizakura."

He had pale eyes and ragged light brown hair. He had a pencil-thin mustache and goatee. He also wore a worn down, white fedora, a faded dark blue tie and a black suit.

"He looks like Haymitch from the Hunger Games." I added.

Kizakura smiled slightly, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Take it however you want." I said flatly. "What do you want with me?"

Satine shot me a look, that basically said 'Hold your tongue'. "Ms. Hotaru, despite your poor attendance and poor attitude, it's a shame to see such intelligence waste away. I've told Mr. Kizakura that you're a gifted forensic, and he wanted to see for himself."

"Me? Gifted?" I laughed outloud. "Is this some joke?"

"Not at all," Kizakura set down several pictures of a crime scene and laid them out before me, "Can you tell me about this person's murderer?"

I stared at the photos; this was going to be a problem because the words written in blood was in some form of alien hieroglyphic chicken scratch. Oh wait this is Japanese, I think I know this language.

"It says 'Blood Lust' right?" I asked

"You speak Japanese?"

"I took a class last year." I said, as if it were obvious. "It's still fresh in my mind."

Kizakura looked at me, expectantly. "So what can you tell me?"

"Well, for one thing, this serial killer is most likely a girl." I shrugged.

Kizakura looked impressed, "How do you know?"

"The weapons look very feminine." I said. "It's funny that this killer would use multiple pairs of scissors, instead of something consistent like a knife, or an axe. They're flashy, that's for sure. Whoever did this wanted to make a statement, like they're taunting the police. And the use of 'Blood Lust' proves a sort of sexual rush when they kill. Either you have a guy, or a girl with a heavy grudge against men."

He looked impressed, "Wow, you really are smart. Headmaster Satine didn't exaggerate."

"That's not being talented, it's just what any other person would do."

"I don't care if it's talent or not, you seem to be the very best at what you do for your age," He took out a leaflet from his coat pocket and handed it to me, "I'd like you to attend Hope's Peak Academy."

How. FECKING. IRONIC.

"Wait, what?"

"Of course you can decline, but this is a lifetime opportunity. I don't just hand out acceptance letters to anyone."

I was about to say 'screw this' but then Satine shot me a look. "I hope you'll consider this opportunity very carefully, Ms. Hotaru. Think about your future."

Meaning, if I declined he'd expel me.

Did I really have much of a choice? I still had plans here, people I have to go after… but I couldn't do that if I got arrested.

I took the leaflet. "Sure, I've always wanted to visit Japan."