Disclaimer: "I do not own Dangan Ronpa or its characters. All rights reserved to Spike/Spike Chunsoft."
Warnings: "Dark fic, drama, character death. Spoilers of chapter 3 of Super Dangan Ronpa 2."
Song: "When will this end? – KoRn."
My first literary attempt on this fandom (actually – no, it's not. But it's the first one I post). It's a small fic, nothing special. The idea came up while 'cleaning' my room, when I found some old CDs and I remembered this song. Oh, the nostalgia 3
And I wrote this: the hardcore version of Chapter 3, a dark fic like the ones I love to read but I rarely can write. I would like to say enjoy, but I would've lying.
No more.
Ibuki stays there, motionless in the night as if she could feel her own roots emerge from herself. It hurts, it really hurts, and she wonders how much time she is going to last now that she's alone. Despair, despair is all she's able to feel besides pain, and she lets that feeling fulfill her. Anything is better welcomed than that bitter pain. Slowly, she closes her eyes and lets herself fall onto the bed. And she just stays there.
She seems to seek a protection she rarely felt since the first trial, burying herself under the sheets. Clung to the pillow, she doesn't leave the room all the day.
Either during the three following.
At the end, she can't keep avoiding her classmates. Tsumiki, in fact, breaks in and after checking her temperature and condition decides to take her at the hospital she found on the third island, along with Komaeda and Owari. Above all the noise, she is able to hear that thay caught some kind of fever induced by Monokuma, but her reaction is still minimal.
She vaguely feels how someone puts her inside a hospital bed and changes her clothes. Windows are closed, and the room is plunged into a relaxing darkness.
Nightmares swirl up inside her confused head everytime she closes her eyes, which is not too difficult with all those drugs and analgesics she has in her bloodstream. She isn't even aware of what or who surrounds her. There are no silhouettes, and no names – and it doesn't seem that she cares about it. The only thing she can do is embrace the despair.
How much time has she been in that semi unconscious state? Days? Weeks? Years? It seems to be an eternity. When will it end? She wants to ask, but for the first time in her life the musician has no voice.
"What is the diagnosis?" Someone asks in the distance. The soft wind brings a familiar male voice to her ears, but she can't react the less. It's Hajime-chan, Hajime-chan's voice the one who's talking... but what do his words mean?
"J-just as Monokuma said... she has a very high f-fever," another one answers (Mikan-chan?). "Like Owari-san and Komaeda-san... I'm so sorry I-I can't do anything else! I've never seen a disease like that!"
"Don't worry, Tsumiki-san. You'll come up with something."
"I... I hope so..."
"Is there anything I can help with?"
There's only one word Ibuki catches from Tsumiki's answer: despair. It seems to be everywhere this night. But why? Why her? Ibuki Mioda was probably the happiest, carefree person any of them had ever met. What had prompted her to fall into the deeps of hopelessness? While Owari recently lost Nidai, and Komaeda had stuck into his hope to the point of obsessing, she was the last person who could've fallen.
Right?
Hinata is the one who visits her the most, probably because of Komaeda. He talks to her, he tells bad jokes, he asks her about her new songs, and he remains silent waiting for an answer than never comes. Sometimes he simply watches her, wondering in silence about the agony she must be feeling. And then, Hinata simply leaves.
Time passes, and instead of getting better like Komaeda and Owari, her disease gets worse and worse. Tsumiki leaves her a tray with food and water everyday. Like Hinata, she vainly tries to talk with her, and after checking that her fever got even higher, she leaves the tray behind her.
The half of the food was consumed, and all the water.
Five days later, she doesn't even glance at the food. Her condition is critical, she already has bulging eyes. She buries her head in the matress hiding herself among the pillows, totally silent. No noise escaped from her lips, any words or moans, and her breathing is very slow. Tsumiki tries to do her best, but the state of the anemia and the internal bleeding was so advanced she can hardly help – specially with the almost negligible material she has in the hospital to work with. Ibuki doesn't seem to matter, anyways. She had given up on life.
The last day. A cold heat is covering her body, and she is slightly trembling – alone in the darkness of the hospital.
She raves for several hours, sometimes even smiling heavily before her features grieved again with sorrow. Her wrinkles are evident on her forehead, and they form furrows and ditches under her eyes. Her neck is extremely thin, her collarbones protrude from her chest. The veins in her hands are dark. Her face full of grease. Her skinny abdomen remarks rigid ribs, and she can't help but wonder what would he say at her new, gaunt image.
Will she know soon?
Ibuki patiently waits for her death, which seems to draw around her closer and closer with every tired breath. And she does, under the looks of the nurse who took care of her those days. Mikan Tsumiki approaches and closes her hands against her neck.
It was not the death she expected, or the one she deserved.
But it was a death she didn't resist at all, as an appropiate ending of her desperate nightmare.
The next morning, after a strange video, they find her corpse hanged by the neck and staring at the nothingness with an insipid tear frozen on her dedless cheek.
Maybe Ibuki shed that tear because of the pain she was feeling, of the agony of dying alone. Of physical and spiritual pain – when her heart desperately cried. Or maybe it was a tear of happiness, being finally free to escape from that prison of despair she was trapped into. Maybe she shed that tear because of sadness, or courage. No one knows, because no one seemed to listen her when she begged for help.
She didn't want anyone to cry. She didn't want anyone's love, because there was no one left she loved. No more. So, anyone was able to finally deduce what induced her to lose her life in such a lamentable way. Anyone except herself.
Ibuki Mioda, aged seventeen. Died for hope: hope to see that person again and leave this rotten world of mutual killing.
"Feeeling my heart breaking in vain,
it won't get better now.
When will this end?"
Uh, yeah, this maybe was short. But I didn't want to make her pass through much more pain than she actually did. However, I'm glad with the final result. I've been wondering a lot because of tihs character's death, and that's what pleases my headcanons. Stupid sad, despair-inducing games... look at what you've done.