Night gives way to day, but in a world where nothing seems real, even that simple concept can be reversed. Stars can shine as brightly in the day as they do at night. So long as you have an Ultimate Astronaut Research Lab.

And that was precisely where Kaito Momota and Maki Harukawa found themselves. Momota lay flat on his back, with Harukawa beside him, holding him as close as she could. It was as though she feared that if she let go, he would disappear forever.

Not an unjustified fear, considering.

The two's eyes were facing the false cosmos created by the room's décor, lost in the beauty of the boundless reaches of space. Neither of them saying a word, merely attempting to feel for the rotation of the Earth, six stories below, guiding them on their on trip through the stars.

Momota was the one who broke the silence. "You know, they say commercial space flight's not that far off..."

"Hmm?" Harukawa intoned.

"I mean, comparatively, at least," he clarified. "It'll happen within the century, I think."

"I'm sorry," the assassin replied.

"Don't be."

"But you won't-"

"But you can."

"Huh?"

"Promise me," the astronaut pleaded, "When you get out of here, when you get the chance, you'll treat yourself. Okay?"

Harukawa nodded dutifully. "Okay."

The goateed boy smiled. "Good to hear."

The faux-caretaker reached toward the astronaut's face, turning it so they could face each other, and indulged in a passionate kiss. The two had found their rhythm over the course of the past few days, and it was clear that they cared for each other deeply.

And yet, even so, it was stained with harsh truth. In this kiss, more so than any of the others, Harukawa could taste the chill of death. Momota was clinging desperately, but it was still a losing battle. It only grew worse as he broke away from the kiss to engage in a horrid coughing fit.

Harukawa winced, forcing herself to keep her eyes open only so that she could have as much memory of the man she loved as possible. But with that desire, and the shared vulnerability between the two, a heavy cost was added. Momota, no longer feeling the need to hide his pain, made no effort to conceal how much agony he was in. The blood spewed from his mouth freely, and it was nearly a full minute before he settled back into himself.

"S-sorry 'bout that..." he muttered, ashamed of what he was putting her through.

"How much..."

"I don't wanna think about-"

"How much... does it hurt?" Harukawa finished.

His eyes widened when he realized what her real line of inquiry was. He heaved a sigh, wincing a bit from the effort. Now was the time for honesty. "I honestly don't think I could stand up if I tried. My lungs are on fire. Even talking right now is taking a lot, and it's ripping my throat to shreds."

"Then... you shouldn't-"

"I'm not gonna stop talking to you," he said, cutting her off, "not while there's still stuff to say."

Harukawa steeled her heart before speaking again, "I... I could..."

"Could what?"

"Make it... painless."

The offer hung in the air like a ten-ton weight. Momota wasn't positive he could feel any lower than he already did, but with those words...

He shook his head. "You'd be executed."

"We'd be together," she countered.

She wasn't fighting fair. "You have to live, Harumaki," he protested. "For both of us. I can get through this if I know you're gonna be okay."

"I'm never going to be 'okay'!" she shrieked. Tears started pouring down, the hot, stinging liquid a harsh contrast to the cold comfort the astronaut was offering. "You're the only one who ever... ever..."

"Ever what?"

"Ever made me feel like a person!"

He wrapped her in his arms, doing what little he could to try and ease her concerns. "You are a person. The most incredible person. And that's why you can't die, okay? You gotta live. You... you... you just gotta!"

It was his turn to cry. The astronaut's grip weakened, and he fell back onto the ground, eyes gazing upward.

"Kaito!"

Harukawa gripped the astronaut's right hand, holding onto him for dear life.

"You've..." His voice was weak. "You've gotta live, okay?"

"I will," she swore, tears gushing even faster now. "I'll keep fighting for both of us. I'll... I'll get everyone out of here, I swear! And we'll all... we'll all live on..."

Momota smiled. "The stars..."

"I'll see them," she promised. "I told you I would, so I have to."

"The stars..." he continued, coughing violently as he did, "And you... beautiful..."

Momota closed his eyes.

She knew. She had seen this all too often. She knew better than anyone.

She screamed in agony. She screamed in sorrow. She screamed in vain.

He was already gone.

From screams eventually came silence. Harukawa was left kneeling by the body of the person she had bared her soul to. Left wondering if it was worth the pain she now felt. While so much of her was certain that it was, she could not shake that nagging doubt.

Things only got worse as she heard the sounds of footsteps on the nearby staircase. It was certain that someone had heard her display of anguish moments ago, and were now racing to her aid. Whoever it was, it would not be a pleasant conversation.

The sound of footsteps stopped, and the red-eyed girl wiped away her tears to face whomever had joined her.

Her heart sank when she saw who it was.

"Harukawa-san, thank God!" Akamatsu exclaimed, clearly concerned, "When you didn't show up for breakfast we couldn't help but worry. So, what's wro-?!" She froze, as the image of Momota's body finally came into view. "Wh-wh-wha..."

Harukawa swallowed her own pain, and attempted to explain, "He... he's..."

The attempt was not successful.

More footsteps rang out nearby. It wasn't long before everyone had gathered.

Nor was it long before everyone was at a loss for words.


The one small mercy in the face of everything was the lack of a class trial. School rules dictated that dying of natural causes, such as illness, was not considered a murder. No culprit, no trial. Not that it did much to comfort the other students, gathered around in the outer park, trying as much as they could to keep their cool.

Momota's body had been deposited into a makeshift grave that Kiibo and Saihara had dug. The two were hardly happy about being saddled with such a morbid task, but the fact of the matter was that no one else could be reasonably asked to do so. The remaining students had taken the significant effort to remove the piano from the casino, to be brought outside. With effort, sweet-talking the Monokuma Cubs, and supposedly Yumeno's magic, the task was complete.

With the group gathered together, Ouma, the only one previously absent, made his way to join the mourners.

Harukawa's gaze locked on him immediately. "If you even think about-"

"I'm sad too," he stated.

With a second glance, the students could see what they had missed. Ouma's eyes were glassy and lifeless. No jokes. No crocodile tears. It seemed even he was distraught over the recent turn of events.

With a silent nod, Akamatsu gave Harukawa the signal to begin. It having been decided prior that she would be the one to deliver the astronaut's eulogy.

Harukawa collected herself as much as possible, and began to speak, "When I first got here, I didn't think much of Kaito Momota. I can't really say I thought much of anyone here, to be honest... But Mo... but Kaito had a way of worming himself into your life whether you wanted him to or not. And by the time he did, you realized that you did want him in your life. I... kind of have trouble picturing my life before I met him."

She tried to not let herself be haunted by the possibilities that could never be. A future that was impossible now. She composed herself once more and moved forward.

"Kaito's influence on me... on all of us, is impossible to ignore. I've spent so much time shutting people out, but... he... he convinced me to open up. And now, now... I have the best friends I ever could have asked for."

Akamatsu, touched by Harukawa's words, was able to force the slightest hint of a smile. Saihara, racked by grief, merely clenched his already shut eyes even tighter.

"Kaito taught me to be happy with the person I was, all while making me want to be even better. He was... he was a shining star in the darkness of this school. And he... he..."

Harukawa's voice trembled as she spoke. Her legs were wobbling, just about to give out, but she did everything she could to hold firm. Even so, she could not stop the deluge of tears down her face.

She addressed the grave directly, "Given how much you longed for the stars, it may seem odd that we've chosen to commit your body to the Earth. But... we felt it was symbolic of who you are. You're carrying more than just us, but everyone. You're guiding us all, as part of mankind's vessel in this vast cosmos."

Her legs finally gave way, and she tumbled down to her knees.

"Thank you, Kaito. I... there's no other way to say it. Thank you. A million times 'thank you'."

As her head drooped downward, it was as though everyone else's brows were tied to hers with invisible string. But with this unspoken signal came the final touch of this ceremony. Akamatsu made her way to the piano the others had retrieved, and began her tribute to the astronaut.

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The song was the perfect summation of Momota's character. Aspiring to reach new heights, all the while guiding others as they attempted to do the same. There was a simple elegance to the melody when applied to the situation at hand, but even this could not buoy the spirits of the students.

Uplifting though the song was, it carried a tinge of melancholy. Momota's death had made clear a fact the students had long been desperate to ignore. If they could not escape, they would die in their prison. Not even from the Killing Game, but from the cold, unfeeling hands of time.

And though none of them knew it, time was running short.


That night, the students had found themselves retreating to their dorm rooms with little to be said amongst them.

Hoshi had acknowledged that training would be taking a hiatus for a little while, given the circumstances. He was taking things a bit better than the others, presumably due to his history with unforeseen tragedy. Nevertheless, the cheer he had been building up did seem to be fading, ever so slightly.

Yumeno was trying her hardest to keep in high spirits, but it was quite an uphill battle. Her attempts to lighten the situation with claims about her magical abilities were simply not hitting home. And it was clear that even she was no longer fully dedicated to continuing the reassurances any longer.

Kiibo was doing what he could to detach himself from the situation. He hated perpetuating the stereotype that he was nothing more than a heartless machine, but he also knew that someone had to be thinking rationally so as to allow the group to move forward. Tragically, he found that he was the only one who could feasibly fill that role. He wasn't sure what would come of this, but perhaps a good night's sleep would offer him some options.

Saihara had more or less shut down, at least until he heard a knock at his door.

The guest was not exactly unexpected. "Kaede..."

The pianist seemed pensive. "Shuuichi..."

With no further prompting, he allowed her into his room.

"I just..." she started before faltering, "Do you need a hug? Because... I know I do..."

He shook his head. "I think I need to be alone right-"

"That's the exact opposite of what you need."

Her eyes were fierce and unrelenting as the detective was broken from his stupor. She had been forced to watch him suffer alone once already. She wouldn't make him do so again.

He slowly made his way over to her, and took up her offer for an embrace. Tears began to stream down his face, his sorrow quiet. "I miss my friend..."

Akamatsu's tears were equally silent. "I do too..."

Akamatsu didn't leave his side that night. The two stayed huddled together, desperate to find some form of warmth in a cold reality.

But as hard as the two of them were taking the situation, Harukawa had it even worse. By the time she had returned to her dorm, she was reduced to a gibbering wreck. The assassin curled up into herself, openly weeping with her back pressed up against her door. No one was going to interrupt her grief until she was willing to allow it.

Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw yet another strike to her spirit.

Another notecard, sharing the same design as the first, was resting on her nightstand, this one propped against a small box. Against her better judgment, she moved to the box, and read the card.

"DO NOT OPEN THIS BOX UNTIL YOU ARE TOLD TO. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. From this point forward, should you leave this room, you are to carry the box with you at all times."

Even in emotional agony, it seemed she could not escape the Killing Game's grip.

All that was left was Ouma, going over every notebook and chart he had constructed over the duration of the game. The loss of Momota had affected him, but time waits for no one, and the time was nigh.

"Tomorrow," he chuckled to himself, "I end everything tomorrow."


A/N: I... wish I could have saved Momota. But without a vial of Antagonist, it just wasn't going to happen. As such, I decided to do the only interesting thing I really could do with the hand I was dealt: let him die. *sigh* Still hurts...

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