(Posting this chapter at 12:30 A.M may not be an entirely sane idea, but I feel as though I'd delay this too long otherwise. Enjoy!)

Chapter 21: Get Up
Rating: T

The knife cradles itself in her stomach.

Gasp. Wheeze. More pain.

Leon had stepped out of the room, starting to panic as he frantically ran out the door, the enormity of the situation fulling dawning on the baseball player. She laid in her friend's bathroom, feeling the life ebb away from her as the warm, coppery blood trickled down her stomach.

Blinking hurt. Crying hurt. Breathing hurt. Everything hurt.

She wanted to burst into tears. This wasn't how she wanted her life to end. She didn't want her life to end at all. She never wanted to commit murder, but she knew she had to take the chance. She had to get out of Hope's Peak Academy, in order to get back into the public eye. To find out if her friends were still alive. She had to make sure that she was still loved. That she still existed. That her friends were doing well.

She wanted to die. She was pretty sure she was dying.

Her life up to that point had been built upon a shaky foundation. Fame, fortune and love, all stemming from a career whose stars were only sacrifices in a game of chess. But, even if she knew that, she couldn't turn back. Her fans, her fellow members; they were all she had left. The only real proof of her existence, right?

Blood trickled. It oozed away faster than her body could hope to replenish it, her system working frantically to cope.

She lived and died as an idol. That was the only fragment of her still rooted to the earth. The only portion of her that would ever be remembered, no matter how much of a mask it was. She desperately wanted to extend the time that she felt alive on this earth. The time she spent as an idol, a pretty face and an inspiration to young girls. The only time she felt like she was alive.

But it appears she was too much of a coward after all. She couldn't bring herself Or maybe something had held her back. Something which gnawed at her mind, from the very first day that she entered the academy and her life went to hell.

The clock clicks softly, unheard to all but her, and, as she lays dormant, she remembers the innocent face of a doe-like boy, oblivious to all of the bad things in the school. A face she just wants to coddle and wish she could truly feel like was hers.

Her eyes snap open as she thinks of Makoto. Oh God, Makoto. She was leaning on his shower walls, her blood splattering all over the tiles that most certainly belonged to him. All of the preparation she did to shift the blame onto him... it was slowly yet steadily blowing up in her face. She coughed hoarsely, the blood spilling slightly, as one thought was clear. She was going to die, and sweet, innocent Makoto was going to take the fall for Leon. Just because of her.

She couldn't let that happen.

A spark of life surges through her. It's like adrenaline. It urges her to move. Quickly.

Get up.

With a surge of energy, she slowly wobbled to her feet, resting on the walls for support. She ignored the fact that her stomach feels like its on fire, or the fact that she can feel a slight weightlessness to her footsteps, the blood loss starting to turn her mind delirious. She slowly, yet steadily, staggers all the way to the door that separated Makoto's bathroom from his room, and wrenched it open, her eyes wide with fear and determination at what she may find.

Leon is nowhere to be found. He's probably begun to hide his presence in her soon-to-come death, she thought, and shrugs it off, before slowly taking a step forwards. Then another.. What's more important is Makoto. She has to get to him. If only to say she's sorry. If only to try and emancipate him from guilt.

If only to say she should've realized that she loved him sooner.

Makoto's crush on her was about as subtle as an anvil dropped square on the base of a skull. The shorter boy tried to hide it, but it was painfully obvious by the way his cheeks stained red with embarrassment whenever she'd say something corny, or when she thanked him for consoling her. It was endearing to her, and she'd always internally giggle whenever she'd managed to produce the reaction from her, yet.. as much as her intuition guided her, it failed her in this one, crucial spot.

She twisted the second door open and glided outside. She clutched her hand, as the blood from her stomach dropped in short, slight bursts. Drip. Drop.

She never noticed, until now, how painfully obvious that slowly, she reciprocated. In her own, short time in Hope's Peak Academy, she could easily say that he was the person she'd spent the most amount of time with. He noticed her: From afar in middle school, or even now, with them bonding to each other over anybody else in this cursed game. He cared for her, enough to track her down and try and console her. He loved her.

And she couldn't even try to build that relationship up now.

She remembers the promise that he made. "I swear, I'll get you out of here no matter what!" It's going to be a broken promise.

She laughed bitterly in her mind, her body too inflamed to produce the chiming noises that her voice supposedly sounded like. She wondered what it would be like, to truly have someone who loved you from the bottom of their heart. She wondered what could've happened if she'd realized that they both loved each other. She wondered what might've happened, if she hadn't decided to go through this accursed murder plot.

Was she really willing to commit a murder to return to the real world? She knew she did some bad things to maintain her spot at the very top of the billboards. Some of those things, she would never admit to anybody. But... had her talent- the only proof of her existence, been truly worth it? She didn't even know if Monokuma would truly allow her to leave the school had she committed a murder.

And... what he would've done to Makoto, and the others.

As she begins to contemplate, she realizes how flawed her reasoning was, and she began to cry silent tears.

Was trying to premeditate murder the best idea? In her mind, she thought it through. In her mind, she had no holes in her plan. It was nearly flawless.

Too bad her mind forgot that she'd never have the heart to try and frame her sole companion in this hell-hole.

"Makoto..." she whispers to herself, "I'm sorry I never realized it sooner..."

Her vision was starting to swirl. The pain was starting to fade away to a dull, cold, numbing feeling. She realized, through a veil of fatigue and sadness, that she was well and truly dying. The knife seemed to bury itself deeper as she moved, the blood starting to drip in larger chunks.

With a sad sigh, she crashed against the wall, landing on it with a dull thud. Then, she glanced up. Makoto Naegi.

This was his room.

The silent tears became real, as they began to flow down her eyes, her mind slowly trying to piece together what she would say. They might very well be the last words she'd ever speak on earth. And they would be to the person who tried to help her out.

The person who easily could've saved her. If only she'd been willing to trust him fully.

With a small twinge of hesitance, and a massive load of regret, she ignored the flares in her stomach and the sad truth prevailing in her mind, as she reached towards the door and knocked on it.

He couldn't sleep all night.

A feeling of dread. Of horror.

All night, he had one thought pressing on his mind. The blue-haired companion that whose company he'd grown to adore. Sayaka Maizono, the Ultimate Idol.

The idol was in bad shape. Even if she was slowly on the track to recovery, her mental stability was dangerous, and, with a small ounce of stupidity, he'd agreed to change rooms. He should've stayed with her. Stupid Makoto, he admonished himself, leaving her alone. You should've kept a closer eye on her.

Somewhere in the world, the God of Irony laughs at his thoughts.

With a grunt, he twisted on his bed, a frown on his face as he thought of the idol, his cheeks unconsciously red in the process. What had she seen in the video? What was so horrifying that it caused her to breakaway in a frenzy like that? Surely, the DvD's were fake, right?

Right?

He still can't sleep because, somewhere deep in his mind, he's worried. Worried about her.

He laid on his side, but, despite the comfortable and relaxing scent that she left behind clinging to the bed, he doesn't feel as though she's safe at all. As if there was something more sinister at play, and that he was an unwilling participant in the roulette of gambits.

Deep down, his luck is probably at play. He's probably right. The feeling grows.

He twists onto his back once more, staring at the darkened ceiling, as he thought of the words that she'd last spoke to him. "About the whole Esper deal. It was... a joke. Really, I'm just really perceptive." She spoke with a sense of fondness and relief as she spoke. For some reason, she seemed more... natural, than before. As if the mask that was in place had finally began to slip from her face.

But what lay beneath? He wasn't too sure.

The uneasy feeling festers underneath his skin. It feels like it's about to burn him from the inside out, but he doesn't know what.

He sighed, his brain spinning inside of it. As much as he didn't want to try to think about her, she invaded his mind at that particular moment. Was she doing fine? What was going through her mind?

Did she need him?

He shook the thought away, quashing it with all of his might. That was stupid, after all. She wouldn't love him. He was just a normal boy, consigned to the life of an ordinary person, horribly . She was destined to be a star; the very top of the top.

What was he to her, more than another person lost to the sea of people known as her fans? Something just didn't add up to him. Why would an idol of her caliber simply stop to talk to him? Why would she talk tohim, of all people? No matter how much he tried to think differently, his self esteem dictated that something was wrong. She didn't have an ounce of reasoning to stick around him. This wasn't right.

He was right, of course.

Tragically, it was for the wrong reason.

It's starting to scream at him now. There's something wrong here. He doesn't know why, but there's something the matter. Sayaka might be in danger. There's something wrong surrounding this.

Get up.

With a deep pit growing in his stomach, he kicks off the sheets. He slowly rises from the bed, Sayaka's familiar, comforting scent evaporating around him as he did so, replacing it with the dark room and a feeling of dread, swallowing his stomach up.

How couldn't he have noticed this earlier? The sensation that tinged the air was terrifying. With a soft whimper, he quickly leapt out of bed, his socked feet landing on the tiled floor without a sound, the horrifying feeling amplifying the further he stepped from the bed he was occupying. For a split moment, he was scared. He glanced back enviously to the bed, wanting to return to the serene feeling of sleep, of comfort. Slowly, yet surely, he turned around to face the bed.

Then... he began to step forward.

Knock knock. Ding dong. Somebody's here. Here for him.

There was a soft thumping on his door. Then, the sound of his doorbell.

With a near shriek, he leapt into the air, landing once more with a clumsy pose. His heart beats at a mile a minute, and that feeling of terror suddenly began to overwhelm him, helped by the fact that he was strangely on edge that night. He glanced at the door, his eyes wide and unsettled as the door continued to rattle.

Step by step, he slowly made his way over. Consciously or not.

Was somebody trying to break into his room? Was the person who tried to force their way into Sayaka's room going to come after him, now that he switched rooms with her? He briefly considered the idea of switching rooms a success, but the terror in his stomach quickly overpowered that. What was he going to do? He didn't have any way to defend himsel-

"Makoto..."

Her voice snaps him out of it. Sayaka, sitting on the other side of the door frame. Her voice sounds weak, troubled, tired. His worries grow. It's enough to displace the horror of having a killer at his doorsteps.

"Sayaka! I'm coming, I'll get the door!" He hollers out, quickly moving his feet that he didn't realize were already moving without a mind of its own. He jogged over to his door, and, as he got to the front of the door, he sighed. "Sheesh, you shouldn't do that. You almost scared me to death!" He admonished, his hand latching onto the doorknob and pulling open the door.

And a horror stood behind the closed door.

When the door finally bursts open, she's lost all strength to remain standing. As soon as it swings inwards, her body falls forward, like a domino. Makoto is stunned, but manages to catch her regardless, though her weight brings him down. He quickly and frantically adjusts his grip as she begins coughing and she can feel herself being turned. She opens her eye, her vision blurry from the brink of death.

Or are those her own tears?

"Sayaka... Oh god, what the hell? What the hell?!" Makoto is in a panic, and a majour one at that. He's noticed the blood that's dripping down her stomach by the teaspoonful, staining the ground. He's noticed her broken wrist. He's noticed the knife, plunged straight into her gut. "Sayaka... what happened?!" He asked frantically, clutching her face.

She's starting to get woozy. Everything hurts, and it's starting to encompass all of her thoughts. Despite this, she desperately tries to fight it, as much as she can. "I... I tried to kill someone, Makoto..." She wheezed out, coughing and nearly screaming as the pain engulfed her. Makoto's face goes aghast, as he tries to press for more.

"Wh-wha?! What do you mean- no, that's not important! We can still keep you alive! We can save you! Please, god, please don't die! Sayaka, don't die!" He's screaming now and nearly about to burst into tears, as he desperately tries to glance around the room, looking for something to stave off the bleeding.

She listened to it all, and a sad smile comes onto her face. Even if she'd betrayed him, he still wanted to rescue her. He... really did care about her. He truly did want to take care of her.

She coughs, and the pain acts up once more. Her head feels lighter than air, and her toes and fingers have gone numb. She couldn't feel them. Makoto glanced back down, his eyes wide as he stares at her pale, sickly face.

And then she spoke.

"Makoto... I'm not going to survive."

Her words break him. Even if she doesn't want them to. His eyes widened even more, as he frantically shook his head. "No, no, no! We can still save you! We just have to get someone to treat your wounds!" He fervently denies, glancing around the room as he slowly tries to ease her up, gently to stave off the bleeding-

He's cut off with a small, brittle laughter. Confused, he glanced down, at her face. It's vulnerable yet... mischievous. As if she were simply faking her death. But the bloodstains proved otherwise. She smiled once more.

"Makoto..." She coughed, "I can't survive this. The knife is stabbed too deep. I... I won't make it... I-I'm so-sorry... for everything," And, to his astonishment, the tears begin to streak down her face, pooling at the corners of her eyes before dripping down. "Makoto.. I'm sorry that I ever d-doubted you, that you wouldn't bring me outside," She hiccuped, her voice wavering, "I'm s-sorry that I tricked you... I'm so-sorry that I tried to s-set you up for murder..."

The back of his mind were setting off warning flags, but he ignored them. Sayaka was... his friend, wasn't she? She wouldn't-

"-do that to you, ever?" She asked blithely, her wheezing becoming louder and louder, "I-i'm sorry, Makoto, but that isn't true," She mourned, her expression growing depressed as she spoke. He blinked in surprise, before she cracked a soft grin. I'm psychic, remember? Haha, but that isn't true, I g-guess." She laughed bitterly, her voice slightly scornful. "If I were psychic... I would never have done this to you,"

He's at a loss for words, cradling her pale body in her arms. He's lost the will to stand up from their position, and simply just kneels. "You... tried to set me up for murder?" He asked airily, his expression blank. A sob escapes her mouth.

"I t-tried to lure Leon and k-kill him but I f-failed and it didn't work and... I'm s-sorry... I just- I had to get out. For the sake of my friends, and my f-fans... I forgot... about you," She lamented, glancing off to the side as she waits for him to suddenly view her with revulsion.

Instead, he simply squeezes her shoulders and brings her closer. He tried to hug her, which didn't end well considering their position, before he speaks, no malice present in his voice. "You shouldn't be sorry. It's what makes us... human, after all," He said reassuringly, cupping her deathly pale cheek. She laughs.

"I n-never took you for a poet," She mused, gritting her teeth as the pain flared up once more. He laughed in embarrassment, the apples of his cheeks slowly going red. However, he refused to drop her head to the floor, as her expression lost all valour. "B-but... I'm..." She trailed off, unsure of what to say. Her eyes glance around, as if looking for something. He's stares at her body, equal parts helpless and confused.

"Huh? What is it?" He pries gently, staring at her face. She stares at his warm, inviting expression, and she internally cries that she'll never see his face again, but thankful that it'll be the last face she sees. She smiles sadly at him.

Oh well. If she's here, she may as well go all the way, right?

So, she did.

"M-makoto... I love you."

He froze up, his body straining and his eyes going wide. He did not expect her to say that. Not at all. So, he just answers in as intelligent a manner as possible. "Huhawha?!"

She laughs at his reaction. How... adorable.

She wished she could've seen more of it. She wished that her own weaknesses didn't cause her downfall.

"I love you... I should've realized it sooner, but I didn't, and I hate myself f-for it because... I know you do, and we c-could've lived, Makoto. We could've lived. But, instead," She laughs bitterly, "I have to go a-and try and kill somebody... Some kind of assistant I am," She said, her eyes watering up once more, "And now, I'm g-going to die, and I wish... I wish I could live to see the end," She said sadly.

Makoto simply stared at her in awe, his mind struggling to comprehend her rambling. He took it slowly, one at a time, and thus, didn't fully react until a few seconds after, his brain still reeling from the information. "You... you liked me?" He managed to say. It was a faint whisper, barely audible.

But she caught it nonetheless.

"I did. I truly liked you. Loved you, even. And don't you dare deny that you didn't feel the same- it was written all over your face whenever we spoke," She managed to say the last bit playfully, despite the pain that coursed through her body. His cheeks stained red once more. She sighed. "But... it ends here. Because of my own weakness..."

She watches as her first- and last- love begin to panic, his eyes widening in horror as he remembered the knife, jutting out of her abdomen. She laughs one more time, the pain was starting to fade away now. It was beginning to feel more like a dull, icy sensation that washed over her body like a wave. He begin to glance up, panicked as he tries to find something- anything! That could save her life. She simply tuts softly, a look of disappointment and slight fear flooding into her expression, as she feels the cold blanket envelop her.

Was she dying?

She thinks she's dying. She's right. Her eyes fluttered, her wheezing growing shallower with each passing breath, her chest rising less and less with each passing second. Makoto's getting more scared and fearful, she notices, and she smiles sadly. Poor Makoto... he'd have to prove her murderer wasn't him.

She should help him, one last time. For all that he's done to help her,. With a weak hand, she reaches towards her abdomen, wincing as a jolt of pain surged through her body. She grit her teeth, and slowly, weakly, began to scrawl. Makoto was panicking, hard.

"H-hold on!" Makoto stammers, a bead of sweat accruing at his temple, "S-sayaka! Stay w-with me!" He cries out, his eyes wide as saucers as tears began to pool up at his tear ducts. He clasped his hand around her motionless one, before his eyes drifted across her shoulders. His eyes watched in horror as she traced out the letter e. "W-wha-?!"

"I'm... Y-you're... gonna be... accused of k-killing... me... I... won't let... that h-happen," She wheezes out, her eyelids fluttering. A small, sad smile is still persistent at her lips, and a few tears dripped down her rosy cheeks. She shifts her blood-covered finger, breathing shallowly, and began to trace a new letter, her eyes beginning to grow glassy as her pupils beginning to dilate. "Because... Y-you don't deserve t-to die for my m-mistakes," She exhaled, her tears falling off of her cheeks.

He stared at her pallid, breathless face, the tears in his eyes streaming down his cheeks as he clutched at her free hand and shoulder. "You're... You're not going t-to die!" He cries out in disbelief, pulling her small, lithe, frame close as he convulsed slightly. "P-please... Just... You'll be fine!" He said, his voice cracking as he slowly began to dissolve into sobs. "Please, Sayaka..." He whispered out.

Sayaka smiles one last time, her eyes fluttering shut, as she finished the n, her hand going slack. A shiny, whitish light began to hover in front of her vision as her eyes shut. "I... I... l-love you, Makoto... stay s-strong... survive..." She whispered out loud, a smile playing at her lips for the penultimate time. Her heartbeat slowed to a crawl, and her fingertips almost numb from the lack of blood. "D-don't cry... I'll... I'll always... w-watch over y-you..." She whispered out soothingly, as an overwhelming desire to sleep slowly encumbered her. She was tired from her day. She was tired from it all.

She wanted to sleep.

So she did. Her arm went limp, her body stopped breathing, and Sayaka Maizono was no longer alive.

"Ding dong bing bong! A body has been discovered! Now, after a certain amount of time, the class trial will begin!"

"What... the... fuck...?" Kirigiri watched with estranged, meticulous yet baffled eyes, oblivious to Oowada's swear, as they stared upon the scene. A dead girl, her eyes peacefully shut. Blood marks, trailing up to them. And, above it all, a sobbing, short, normal boy, his closest companion forever gone.

Well then.
First off, hope you're all doing well. I apologize for having this out a bit late, but hey, school's a pain.
Experimenting a bit with a different tense in terms of describing sentences, and I feel as though I should stretch my wings a bit with this, since I'm objectively given more creative freedom when it comes to writing this. I also decided fooling around with the little italicized describing statements, designed to run in tandem and relate, but not fully integrate, into the story. Ah, I enjoy writing this series, if solely for the sheer amount of character study that I can find by exploring their relationship.
As for the actual prompt, the story drew inspiration from the sequence of events leading up to her murder. (Which I've finally got around to playing. Yes, I wrote 21 chapters for characters and a pairing I've only watched/read about. Shush.), with one key difference: Maizono manages to get up from being stabbed. I knew it would be too unbelievable to have her survive that, as infection and disease would probably off Maizono in the off chance that she doesn't bleed to death and has the knife removed from her body. Instead, I decided to give them one last heartbreak.
Hopefully nobody gives me too much flak for having Maizono jump the gun a bit with her emotions. She is delirious from blood loss, after all.
I suppose that's all for now. Have a good one, everybody.
Ciao!
-Elesi
get up
the process of transitioning between laying or sitting and standing