this takes place during dangan ronpa/zero, but since i haven't read it it'll mostly be focusing on ryouko otonashi. expect spoilers and because i know practically nothing about dr/zero, most of it probably won't be true.
If Otonashi Ryouko said she had nothing to do with anything, then she would be lying.
Then again, if she couldn't remember then it wouldn't be fully lying, would it? That was the way it was, and since Otonashi Ryouko didn't know anything about anyone, she was as innocent as anyone could be.
And the name whispered though school hallways - Enoshima Junko - couldn't be less related to her.
One thing she knew for certain was she loved Matsuda Yasuke, and his cold, cold demeanor like icicles in the summer. She didn't need to write it down or tattoo it on her arm; she knew it though the haze of her forgotten memories.
Love was a strange thing, she thought one day, bemused, sitting on her bed. The bedsheets, though worn, were clean, and she was distractedly reminded of the school infirmary. She didn't know why she loved him, Matsuda Yasuke, or if he felt anything besides annoyance towards her. But loving him was enough if she could remember, and that was everything to her.
Secretly, she didn't want her time with him to end. She'd gladly give up her memories if it meant spending even a day longer with him.
You love him, a voice says in the back of her head. You love him a lot.
She ignores it.
And then at another time, the exact days and weeks forgotten, something comes to Ryouko.
"That's just plain despair," a student had whispered. The word despair set off brakes in her head, the screech of tires coming to a stop prevalent in her mind. There's even the faint sound of sirens, sparking red and blue against her closed eyelids.
Despair, she thought. Such a plain, simple word.
How despairing, the voice in her mind replies. Don't you want to know a little bit more about your past? Ryouko doesn't, not a single bit.
If you change your mind, I'll always be here to tell you, the voice cheerfully says.
Who are you anyways?
No one important.
She doesn't trust the voice; even though she has superb analyzing skills, she can't predict anything about the voice. She's tempted to tell Yasuke. Maybe it's a side effect of his treatment.
But she doesn't want to tell him. This voice might as well be a sign she was going insane, crazy in the head.
Not that she knew what insanity was. Of course not.
There's not much solace in wandering the school halls late at night. Though it is calming and quiet, awfully so compared to the bustle in the morning, it does nothing to regain her memories, doesn't help her gain sudden insight in her crush, and most of all, it doesn't tell her anything about the voice.
Oh, honey, it says, in a sugary-sweet tone laced with venom. Don't you want to know?
Not from you. Ryouko isn't tempted; even she can tell the voice couldn't be trusted.
Then it's your loss. Ryouko swears the voice, which she can tell by now is feminine, is shrugging. Not shrugging shrugging, because it's only a voice and voices can't shrug, but at least it's implying to be shrugging, which still doesn't make sense.
You think too much, for someone so airheaded. Now Ryouko can tell the voice is snarky at times and honey-like other times. Its personality is inconsistent. You should just relax. And hey – think positive. I might help you out with your little crush!
I don't want your help. If there's something she can do to make it stop, then Ryouko would gladly do it. A part of her thinks she really is airheaded, and the voice, in all its egotistical, bipolar, false superiority is right.
Honey, I'm always right.
"That's it. You can go now."
"Why are you so mean?" Ryouko whined, pouting childishly.
"Because you're a stupid brat who can't do anything." Ryouko only frowned, swinging her legs while clutching the side of the bed she was sitting on. The mattress was hard, cheap compared to the other things the school's budget could afford.
"You're so mean."
"You've already said that. Now leave."
Ryouko stops swinging her legs, looking up at Yasuke who was towering over her. "Hey," she started. "Did you ever know me?"
"Like I said, I didn't know you before."
He's lying.
He wouldn't. He would never lie. Ryouko knows this from the bottom of her heart; he would never lie to her.
How well do you think you know him, then?
Better than you.
Do you think that? The voice, seemingly so sure of itself, sounded confident, as if hiding a secret.
How would you know him?
Who knows?
"Did you finally lose your mental stability?" Ryouko looks up with a start, Yasuke peering down at her with something akin to annoyance in his eyes.
"I'll leave now." For once, Ryouko doesn't bother prolonging her visit any longer, and drags herself out the room and back to her dorm. Her footsteps are heavy, and her movements sluggish. She's tired all of a sudden.
There's a person in front of her, with strawberry blonde pigtails and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of their nose.
Ryouko's mind comes to a blank. She doesn't know the person.
The person – girl – stares back, her eyes glinting strongly. Recognition? Fear?
Whatever the girl says, Ryouko can't really tell. It only translates across as some mumbling, a faded voice in her conscientious.
You don't recognize her? Pity.
What for? The voice doesn't reply again, and Ryouko watches the girl warily. Her eyes were empty, lacking the life a high school girl should have.
"Hey, what's your name?" She grabbed Ryouko's tongue, cutting her off from saying anything.
"Tell me!" Ryouko, trying to say something, threw her notebook in the girl's face desperately. The girl picked it up with her free hand, reading the words aloud.
"Otonashi Ryouko… but I said to say it!" Her fingernails dug into Ryouko's tongue.
Just as suddenly as she grabbed her tongue, the girl let go of it. "Did you really think I wanted your tongue? Gross."
The girl spoke too fast and too much. Her actions were unpredictable, and Ryouko could hardly keep up.
Enoshima Junko, she was called. She was so egotistical, bipolar… and filled with a sense of false superiority. The words felt familiar, but Ryouko couldn't place where she had heard them before.
Enoshima Junko was so full of herself, and so selfish.
Everything was falling apart before her.
Enoshima Junko – the name was so familiar in a vague sense. Who was Enoshima Junko?
And Matsuda Yasuke. The person she loved, the person she could remember, the clarity amongst a faded, blurry background.
Matsuda Yasuke, the man who stood before her.
Enoshima Junko, he said, was just as important to him as a friend, family, or a lover.
From the start, Matsuda Yasuke was never hers, but Enoshima Junko's.
What was the point?
Just as Ryouko was about to give up completely, stop trying so hard for something impossible, someone appeared in the elevator.
Enoshima Junko.
But… was she Junko? Yasuke's reaction was strange, and Junko herself seemed… different.
"Um, well this explanation... you can probably tell from my appearance but I am to follow Junko-chan's scenario, only to enact this part... yeah, that's what this is."
Ryouko was confused. Junko wasn't bipolar like she had been when they met. This time, she was quiet, more shy. She was less proactive, only muttering her words.
But that wasn't Junko. That was someone else. "Junko" was "Mukuro Ikusaba". Mukuro Ikusaba… where had she heard the name before? Ryouko might've been dumb in some aspects, but her mind started turning, the cogs of her brain picking up speed.
"Then, does this mean...the Enoshima Junko I've know all this time..." Ryouko's mind spun in circles, trying to grasp onto something logical. "Then Enoshima Junko…"
And then everything became clear, like a smooth sheet of glass. Matsuda Yasuke, who had his hands wrapped around Ryouko's neck…
Guess who figured it out? The voice became a face, appearing before her. Enoshima Junko, the real one.
There's a flurry of whispers, echoing around her mind, as if saying, look. This is who you are.
(And as Ryouko died, Junko returned. Matsuda Yasuke will only be another tool in her conquest for despair, because as much as she loves him, loved him, he would have to go. He would have to die believing she hated him, that she was the root of all his problems.
He did die, asking an unanswered question. As Junko cradled his head in her lap, she relished in the murky feeling in her heart, the painful squeezes of despair.
Now, in the place of Otonashi Ryouko was Enoshima Junko, the rightful person. Everything returned back to normal.)