Disclaimer: I do not own Danganronpa.

Content warning. Not very graphic but maiming is still a thing.


It began with light- a weak blue haze from the projector that cast lazy shadows on Ando's sleeping form.

Watching her, it occurred to Kyouko that Ando looked very different asleep, especially when compared to her death.

She looked like she didn't have a care in the world, sleeping like a kitten even though the room around her had been wrecked and destroyed by the events of the day. The contrast between her peaceful expression and the oppressive surroundings was almost surreal.

She supposed it made sense though, sleep was a retreat after all. An escape from the stress of reality into the a dark place of dreams where nothing could disturb you. Even if there were no dreams to be had, it appeared it was still a time of rest- the kind of state you'd want to die in.

Looking at her sleeping face like this, even Kyouko had to admit that she seemed nothing like the resentful murderer who had killed Kizakura, who had killed Izayoi. Who would have killed them all to save her own hide.

She looked vulnerable- defenseless. Probably because she was.

Then the monitor laughed his hello, and the slow movements of Ando's breathing stopped. Her panicked stillness and wide, reflective eyes the only sign that she had awoken.

"Attacker, are you awake?" Monokuma crooned, sending Ando scrambling off the floor, the realization that she was in danger sweeping over her and draining her blood.

"It's attackin time. Now who's the target for today?"

"No," she whispered, looking around with panicked eyes "no no no no no no no. I was going to live. I was going to live. I was going to-"

"I was going to live." Adno whispered that phrase over and over, covering her ears as though it would drown out the monitor horrible noises. As though her pleadings were going to save her from the inevitable truth of what was about to happen.

It was pathetic really, pathetic and piteous, but it was normal. People didn't face their deaths with dignity unless they were people like Makoto. They fought and pleaded because death was terrifying and they weren't ready for it.

Kyouko had been ready for it, now she wasn't ready for anything. She wasn't ready for anything anymore, and the realization sent as much of a cold shock through her as the fact that she could understand the look on Ando's face- that she could understand anything about her after what she'd done.

She'd tried to kill Kyouko, and she'd smiled while she'd done it, she had shown herself to be selfish, mistrustful and treacherous. She'd shown herself to be all of that with such an assured expression on her face, but there were no smiles now, just a helpless woman who was terrified that she was going to die alone.

Kyouko watched, and felt a tiny pit of dread open when the scenery turned red. Ando stared transfixed into the screen, eyes opening wider and wider with horror as the backwards jingle continued playing.

Then it happened, Ando screamed for a full minute. Screamed until her throat was to raw to scream anymore and it died away into ragged gasps.

There was a clatter on the floor, a metallic clang that Ando searched out and gripped in pale hands.

Then she stared, unblinking, unending into the monitor. A knife held in her hands, and tears in her crazed eyes.

"I'm sorry Seiko chan. I'm sorry Yoi-Chan."

She sobbed as she drew the knife across both of her arms. She smiled too- somewhat paradoxically- a lopsided grin which Kyouko had never seen on the woman, not even when she'd been attempting to murder her.

It was a despairing grin, an absurd happiness at the breaking of one's own heart. A terrifying thing that spread a cold feeling in Kyouko's chest.

She'd seen it. Many, many times, but now, seeing someone she'd known -even if only on a professional level- wear it made her acutely aware of how wrong it was.

If this was what the future foundation saw whenever they met another human being- what Ryouta saw whenever he met the ultimate despair- she could understand their fanaticism, if only a bit.

By the time Ando had sliced at her legs, the tears had mixed with the blood running down her profile, clearing tracks along her cheeks- How did I miss those?- and the blade had been dyed red with blood.

Ando didn't seem to feel the pain, at least not in a discomforting way, if anything she found it hilarious. She laughed like a madman, throwing her red stained candies out around her, giggling as it rained in multicoloured piles around her.

"I'm sorry Seiko chan. I'm sorry Yoi chan." she laughed, over and over as she tossed and cut, only pausing in her pleas to stuff her own throat with candies.

"Is this what it was like Yoi chan? Is this better for you?" She choked, a somewhat ill considered move, as it only led to the candies falling out of her mouth as she cried into the cold ground.

For a whole minute she'd cried, wrenching sobs that tore through the room. Then she'd stopped, raised the knife just above her heart, taken a single long look at the monitor, and plunged.

She didn't stop looking at the monitor for the next five seconds, only breaking contact when her eyes rolled back and she collapsed backwards into the unforgiving cement floor.

Five seconds had been enough for Kyouko to realize that she wasn't smiling anymore, had been enough to see that the only thing left in her eyes was regret and disgust at her own actions.

The video ended, it played still, but there was no movement, only deafening silence.

Kyouko didn't cry, or even blink.

She'd come to a realization during the video. A realization that Ryouta may have been right. A realization that she'd criminally misunderstood Ruruka Ando.

No, that wasn't it, Ando had done detestable things, some resentment was understandable.

But no one deserved that death, it unnerved Kyouko to realize that she hadn't understood that until she'd seen it happen in detail. That she hadn't held an ounce of pity for someone who'd been tortured, choked and brutalized.

Pity, nervousness, resentment. These weren't things that detectives like Kyouko were supposed to feel. They were supposed to understand them, of course, but never feel them. Emotions gave rise to preconceptions, made one overlook details such as tear tracks and broken hearts. Prevented rescues and justice and above all the truth.

The truth was sacred, and to find it they had to acknowledge that emotions made people tick, an irreplaceable part of the equation that was a crime. But they were never supposed to look past the knowledge and facts for the sake of their own grudges.

Kyouko had failed at that, she had felt resentment, towards her father, towards despair and now towards Ruruka. She was ashamed of it, but the shame itself was also a problem.

Shame and pity, she'd failed so utterly in feeling those, yet she couldn't say that she was disappointed in herself, because now she realized her flaws. Because without shame and pity she'd never have realized the injustices she'd been committing against others.

Ruruka Ando, she thought begrudgingly, staring at the still body of the girl who'd attempted to end her life, I may not ever completely forgive you for what you've done, but, for what it's worth, I understand now.

I'll come back for you. When this is all over, and I've had time to sort things out.

She got up, she walked to the door.

If I buried you next to Izayoi, would you be okay with that?

The dead didn't answer of course, but she said it nonetheless,because they deserved it.

Some would say that the emotions she was feeling were folly for a detective in service to truth, but Kyouko was not in service to truth anymore. She was in service to hope, so she needed to hope as well from now on.

She breathed, she thought, she let forth a single prayer for the people who had lost their lives in this building, in this war.

She opened the door.


I had a hard time editing the scene with Ruruka, because I felt uncomfortable reading it, that's either because it was cringey (most likely) or effective. (hopefully?)

anyway, see you next time. I hope you like it!