Chapter IV: The Melancholy of Chiyuri Nagato
Daily Life
Chiyuri's POV
As the last knife pierced Akira-san's heart, I felt as though I'd been stabbed in the same place. She had been one of the few who hadn't judged me for the circumstances under which I was born, and had been the only person I'd been able to confide in about my status as an illegitimate child. It had taken me sixteen years to find someone like her, but we'd been parted forever a mere eighteen days after meeting.
Of course, my grief over her passing was also intermingled with guilt. I felt Akira-san's loss more keenly than any of the others, including Mihama-san, who'd died as a result of Akira-san's actions. I must have seemed like a rather self-centered individual, someone who would grieve for a friend more than a blameless victim. All my life, I'd felt burdened by my status as an illegitimate child, and the loneliness from being ostracized for that, but had I ever taken the time to empathize with someone else's suffering? Maybe that was why I'd never had any friends.
"And that's that!" Monokuma said. "You either die a spotless, or you live long enough to become the blackened, and I guess the latter happened to Azuki-san."
"This... isn't possible..." I said.
"Of course it is," Monokuma said, "it's the truth. Here's the proof."
The monitor changed from the room where Akira-san had been executed, to two simultaneous camera feeds- the left was of the second floor office, while the right one was the first floor hallway- with the time stamp showing just before Mihama-san's death. As Akira-san stepped on the pressure plate, a dart flew into Mihama-san's eye, and as she stumbled backwards, she triggered the trap that fired the dart at Akira-san. Kumakura-san broke down the door as Sasaki-san and Himemiya-san investigated the upstairs office, at which point Monokuma cut off the feed.
"And the rest, as they say, is history," Monokuma said. "Any questions, Chiyuri?'
I bit my lip. I didn't know whether Monokuma was trying to mock Azuki-san calling me by name, or that he thought he was my friend, too, but I didn't like it one bit.
"Don't... call me that," I said. "Only my mom and my friends get to call me 'Chiyuri'!"
"Oh, my mistake, Nagato-san," Monokuma said.
Considering that Monokuma had consistently called Tatsuki-san by her dead sister's name, I doubted that was an accident.
"I do have a question," Kirishima-san said. "The angle that the two video feeds were shot at did not match any security cameras in the building, or any Monodrones nearby. How did you obtain the footage?"
"Good question, Kirishima-san," Monokuma said. "I have eyes and ears all over, not just the cameras and the Monodrones. They do help, and breaking them is a violation of the rules, but they're mainly a reminder that you're being watched."
I wondered if it was possible for someone to stealthily approach and disable a camera without being seen, but if Monokuma had those additional means of surveillance, then it was out of the question.
"Anyway, I'd like to congratulate you on making it through another trial," Monokuma said, "but it seems as though you haven't learned your lesson yet. At best, you're indifferent, and at worst, you're heartbroken. If a class trial gets you this down, you'll never be able to face the real world."
"Yes, the newspaper we found on the previous island painted a fairly grim picture of the world," Higurashi-san said, "but how can we know that it's true?"
"You don't," Monokuma said. "The decision of whether to accept what you hear or cling to what you've always believed to be true is up to you. I've said my piece, so now, I'll leave you to digest what you've seen and heard. Until next time!'
Monokuma vanished.
"I... honestly don't know what to say to that," Higurashi-san said.
"I do," Kirishima-san said. "Azuki-kun's passing was truly meaningless."
I glared at Kirishima-san. I hadn't been able to bring myself to vote for Akira-san, but I did recognize what she'd done for us. She'd solved the crime she'd unwittingly committed and enabled the rest of us to survive, even at the cost of her own life.
"How could you say such a thing?!" I said.
"Consider our situation," Kirishima-san said. "By laying down her own life, she extended all of ours, but only until the next class trial. The simple reality is that unless there is an additional condition Monokuma has yet to mention, only one of us will escape this killing game."
"You're not wrong there," Asakura said, "but I guess you think you're gonna be that one person, right?"
"I am not so naïve or arrogant as to believe that," Kirishima-san said. "Probability dictates that with ten of us left- excluding Nagato-sensei, who cannot participate in this 'game'- our odds of being the only survivor are slim, and I have no skills that would give me an edge. Precedent dictates that since no one who has attempted murder so far has succeeded, we have little reason to believe the next person will. Common sense dictates that Monokuma's goal is to get us to kill each other, so he has no desire for us to actually win, which would end the killing game. This killing game is like a casino, and as they say, the house always wins."
So that was the most likely reason why there was a dice game shown every time a verdict was announced. I'd heard of various strategies you could use in order to help your chances at card games, but unless you were inhumanly dexterous, there was no way to roll exactly the number you wanted without cheating.
"That may be so," Higurashi-san said, "but people will get desperate sooner or later, as Monokuma introduces additional motives."
"Indeed they will," Kirishima-san said. "You and Nagato-kun can brainstorm countermeasures if you feel compelled to do so, but it would be more prudent to accept the possibility that this will happen again and prepare accordingly."
Kirishima-san headed for the elevator, and the rest of us followed him. As tragic as this trial had been, much like the two before it, life, such as it was in the killing game, had to go on, so we had no choice but to return to our ship and await what would come next.
On the ride back up, I stared at Kirishima-san, who ignored me and gazed at the door to the elevator. While I couldn't argue with his points, I didn't want to accept them, either. Even if we got through each trial, they would begin with the death of a classmate who'd probably been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and end with the execution of a classmate who was desperate or merely unlucky. Too many of us had died for us to get this far, and I didn't want to believe that more of us would share Mihama-san and Akira-san's fates.
After we got off the elevator, I met up with Higurashi-san.
"Do you need something, Higurashi-san?" I said.
"Ordinarily, this would be when we'd go and talk with Nagato-sensei," Higurashi-san said, "but I'll let you go talk to her by yourself."
"I appreciate that," I said. "What about our report?"
"I'll let you talk with her about the trial," Higurashi-san said, "and I'll stop by later. Part of it is because you and your mother need some time alone, and part of it is because I don't know what to say."
"Well, neither do I," I said, "but right now, I just want to see Mom again."
I wiped away a tear, and saw Higurashi-san standing there, seemingly at a loss for words.
"Then I'll let you go see her," Higurashi-san said. "The only other thing I have to say, trite as it may be, is that I'm sorry for your loss. Azuki-san and I didn't always agree, but I respected her honesty and appreciated her contributions to the class trials... especially this one."
"Thank you," I said. "You know, I think she actually respected you, too. Keep that in mind."
As I said goodbye to Higurashi-san, my tears continuing to flow, I realized once again that I wasn't alone. Whether we liked her or hated her, Akira-san had been an important part of our class, and all of us would have to deal with her loss in our own ways. The same went for Mihama-san, whose death had sealed Akira-san's fate, as well as everyone else who would fall victim to the killing game in the future.
I stopped by my cabin to drop off my dirty clothes, then took the elevator down to talk with Mom. It should have been a happy reunion, but the fact that I was seeing her for the first time in more than 50 hours, and that I'd have never seen her again if we hadn't gotten through this trial barely registered.
"Hello, Chiyuri," Mom said.
As I sat down, Mom looked uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry I smell like this," I said, "since it's been two and a half days since I've taken a shower. I'm also sorry that I'm underdressed, but semi-clean overalls are better than a filthy school uniform."
"No, it's not that," Mom said. "I'm sorry to hear about Azuki-san. I know how close you two were."
I nodded, as tears started to run down my face.
"It's... it's not fair," I said. "She didn't mean to kill Mihama-san, so she doesn't deserve to die."
"No, she doesn't," Mom said, "but I hope you understand that she did a very brave thing. Not only did she have to give her life, but she had to say who was responsible for the crime knowing that ten- or perhaps eleven- people would die if she was wrong."
In other words, including herself, Mom and I. As hard as it was for me to accept this truth, Akira-san couldn't afford to doubt herself or be wrong. She had to not only be right, but know that she was right, or else she wouldn't have been able to convince us to vote for her.
"Speaking of courage," Mom said, "while I understand that you're grieving, the time has come for you to show courage by living on after the loss. Losing your father was the most devastating thing I'd ever experienced, but I knew I had to stay strong, since he wanted me to live on, and was counting on me to raise our daughter."
"I...I know, Mom," I said. "There's too many lives at stake for me to shut down now, even if I don't know what I can do for them."
"Unfortunately, I can't tell you the answer," Mom said. "Simply take your time and come to it on your own."
I didn't know what to say except "I will, Mom," a promise I didn't know whether I could keep. While it was to Monokuma's' benefit to isolate the one adult authority figure we had, who also happened to be my mother, the truth was that all of us had to decide which path to take- cooperate with the group and make sacrifices for it, or look out for ourselves. Akira-san had chosen the former path, and had paid the price for it.
I started to get up, but then remembered the bag that I'd brought with me.
"One more thing," I said. "I almost forgot, but here's an extra change of clothes for you."
I passed the suit through the bars of the cell, and Mom graciously accepted it.
"Thank you, Chiyuri," Mom said. "Once again, I'm sorry that I can't do more for you and your classmates."
"Once again, there's no need for you to apologize, Mom," I said. "I know Monokuma's keeping you in there to minimize how much you can do to help us."
"Fair enough," Mom said. "The only thing I'm not sure about is why he's keeping me alive."
The most obvious answer that came to mind was to use her as a hostage in order to manipulate me, such as tempting me to graduate so that I could bring Mom with me. Apart from that, there was Monokuma's refusal to harm the students unless they broke a rule or were convicted in a class trial... except for Taiga-san, who had been executed in her sister's stead. He clearly still had use for Mom, hence his rule preventing the students from harming or freeing her, and he must also know that she would never take her own life.
For now, though, I wasn't in the mood to think about who might have betrayed us, or even if they were still alive right now, so I said goodbye and took the elevator back up to the main deck of the ship.
I walked over to the laundry room. She was wearing her archery training uniform once again, and was carrying a laundry basket with the clothing she'd worn on the island- her shirt, her overalls, her socks and her underwear- while watching another set of clothing tumbling in the dryer. She'd clearly washed herself off, removing the dirt and eliminating her body odor, and had combed and brushed her hair before setting it into its usual ponytail. Maybe it was because she was rich, but she seemed like the sort who would be well-dressed and good at grooming; maybe Tsukimura-san helped her with those things.
"Hello, Nagato-san," Himemiya-san said. "Sasaki-san is currently using the laundry, and after she's done, it will be my turn."
"I see," I said. "I changed my clothes this morning, so I can wait to wash them. I'll stop by when it's less busy."
As I started to leave, I heard Himemiya-san say "Please wait," and stopped in my tracks.
"Is something the matter, Himemiya-san?" I said.
"There's something I'd like to talk with you about," Himemiya-san said. "Why were you unable to vote for Akira during the last trial?"
I paused and looked around uncomfortably. It was easy enough to say why, but I douted that any answer I could give would satisfy Himemiya-san.
"I couldn't accept it," I said. "Why did Akira-san have to die because of a twist of fate? She was your friend too, wasn't she?"
"She is," Himemiya-san said, "but I see it differently. She was putting her life on the line when she named herself the culprit; if she was right, she'd die, but if she was wrong and Mihama-san had accidentally killed herself, she and everyone else would die. If she truly is your friend, shouldn't you trust her enough to believe that she wouldn't lie about something that important?"
"You're right," I said. "I don't believe she'd lie about that. But I still couldn't believe it..."
Himemiya-san sighed.
"This was not an easy decision for any of us," Himemiya-san said, "at least not those who cared about Akira. But she was counting on us to make that decision, since she didn't want the rest of us to die for her mistake. I'd been prepared to lay down my life for the group, so I understand how she felt at that moment. The only thing I'm not sure about is whether I can count on you to make the right decision next time."
"I..." I said.
"That's enough, Himemiya-san," Sasaki-san said. "Don't you understand what Chiyuri-chan is going through right now?"
I turned around and saw Sasaki-san standing in the door, dressed in her uniform and carrying a laundry basket. The washing machine had finished its cycle, and all that was left was to dry her clothes.
"I do, Sasaki-san," Himemiya-san said, "but in the killing game, we must do the right thing regardless of our feelings. Akira was my friend, too, but I pressed the button to vote for her, knowing I'd be sentencing her to death... as did you."
"You aren't wrong about that," Sasaki-san said, "but what's done is done, and there's no point haranguing Chiyuri-chan about the way she voted. We got enough votes without her, and if we hadn't, we wouldn't be alive right now."
Himemiya-san smiled. Sasaki-san's rebuttal hadn't been fierce enough to prevent Himemiya-san from countering, but at least for the moment, she felt no need to contest Sasaki-san's assertions.
"I'm surprised, Sasaki-san," Himemiya-san said. "I didn't think you'd be this outspoken."
"I'm used to getting criticism for my work," Sasaki-san said, "and to be able to submit a manga that's worth being punished, I have to be at least as hard on myself as the editors will be on me. Because of that, when my assistants show me their submissions and ask for feedback, I don't lie to them when I don't think their work is good enough."
"I see," Himemiya-san said. "Personally, I have the same modus operandi when it comes to archery."
If Akira-san had been here, she'd probably have said she was as much of a perfectionist when she was acting. I always knew there were a few differences between the real Ultimates and me- talent, passion, work ethic and experience- and perhaps I could add discipline to that list.
"That being said," Sayuri said, "I have found there's a fine line between being strict and just being mean. There are better ways to say what you did in light of Chiyuri-chan's current state. You aren't the only one who's lost a friend, you know."
"You're right," Himemiya-san said. "The three of us were probably closest to Akira, so I'm sure you understand."
Himemiya-san then turned to me.
"Nagato-san, while I stand by what I said earlier, I do believe I should put it more constructively," Himemiya-san said. "There will be times when you must make hard decisions for the class, including possibly giving your life. Akira did much for us, but she is no longer around, so someone must fill the void she left behind. Can I count on you to do your part?"
I nodded. It would be irresponsible to promise too much, but she was right; I owed it to myself, to everyone else who was still here, and to Akira-san.
"I'll do my best," I said.
"Thank you," Himemiya-san said. "I feel I can trust you, so I'll be counting on you to fulfill your promise."
Sasaki-san smiled.
"Then it's all good," Sasaki-san said.
Sasaki-san transferred her laundry into the dryer, while Himemiya-san loaded hers into the washer. Since it would be a while until I got turn, I walked outside with Sasaki-san while she waited for her clothes to dry.
"Thank you for speaking up for me, Sasaki-san," I said.
"You're welcome, Chiyu- er, Nagato-san," Sasaki-san said. "I hope you're not mad at Himemiya-san."
I shook my head. People had said far crueler things to me, so I wasn't especially upset about Himemiya-san.
"Not at all," I said. "It may be difficult for me to live up to Akira-san, but that's what I'll do."
Sayuri-san nodded.
"By the way, Sasaki-san," I said. "Why did you suddenly switch to my last name just now?"
"At the trial, you said only your mom and your friends got to call you 'Chiyuri'," Sasaki-san said. "I wondered if you only agreed to let me call you by your first name because you couldn't say no to me."
I shook my head.
"I was actually happy that you asked," I said, "since doing so was your way of saying we were already friends. Do you mind if I do the same, Sayuri-san?"
Sayuri-san smiled.
"I'd be happy if you would, Chiyuri-chan," Sayuri-san said.
Sayuri-san headed back to her cabin to wait for her clothes to dry, while I headed to my cabin to wait for the others to finish with the laundry room.
I returned to my cabin, and saw that it was empty. My roommate wouldn't be coming back any time soon- or ever.
Of course, I wasn't the only one. The other girls had lost their roommates, as had Kurogane-san and Kumakura-san. The only ones with roommates at this point- Higurashi-san and Kirishima-san, as well as Karita-san and Asakura, weren't exactly friends.
As painful as it was to go on, I knew I couldn't afford to wallow in my own grief forever, so to take the first step, I looked at Akira-san's notebook.
The pages within had chronicled all of her findings throughout our cruise. There was everything we'd heard from Monokuma, the motives, her findings on the investigations, any information we found about the killing game itself, the weather, a description of each island and some of her daily interactions with our classmates. She'd discussed most of the information with me already, but it was nice to have a record of it on hand.
Flipping toward the end, I found three things that Akira-san hadn't told me. The first was about Monokuma, who could apparently be in multiple places at the same time. The second was about a mysterious machine Kirishima-san found in the basement. The third was more personal; a hastily written note to me.
Chiyuri,
If you're reading this, then I'm already dead.
This notebook contains everything I've learned in my time here. I don't know why we're here yet or the traitor's identity, but I'm sure you can figure it out.
Never give up, and always remember- I believe in you.
Akira.
I wrote Thank You- Chiyuri, then shut the notebook for now, intending to open it whenever I had something to write in it. From here on out, recording my findings would be up to me, since if I shared Akira-san's fate, I would have to pass the notebook on to someone else.
I lay back on my bed and began to cry once again. Akira-san had accomplished much in her life, but she had also left many things undone. She had not found the identity of the traitor or the reason why we were here, and would never see her mother or appear on the silver screen again. I couldn't fill the gap Akira-san had left, but I could carry on her work, and see this killing game through to the end.
After reading through Akira-san's notebook, I took a shower. Since most of my clothes were dirty, I put my shirt and overalls back on, then took the rest of my clothes to the now vacant laundry room and loaded them into the washer. I sat there until they were finished washing, put them in the dryer, and once that was done, brought them back to my cabin.
A few hours later, we met up for dinner, and I sat with Tatsuki-san, who had showered and changed back into her uniform.
"You know..." Tatsuki-san said, "it's only now occurring to me that if not for Azuki-san's mishap and Mihama-san's death, I'd be dead by now."
"You're not the only one, Tachibana-san," I said, "and neither is Himemiya-san. The two of you and everyone besides Akira-san would have been executed if she hadn't solved the case."
In my own way, I'd unwittingly played a role in getting through the trial, by telling Akira-san about how I'd seen the downstairs trap shoot twice after she tested it. That being said, Akira-san had been the one who'd solved the case. No one could know for certain what would happen in the next trial- only that there would be one.
"You're right," Tatsuki-san said, "but on the other hand, you weren't supposed to die in any of the trials. I wish I'd asked Mihama-san if there was any case in which the true culprit was found after someone had already been executed."
"I don't know of any," I said. "The courts aren't perfect, but it's difficult for anyone to admit to making such a terrible mistake, resulting in an innocent person dying and the true culprit escaping."
Tatsuki-san winced.
"You have a point, but I suppose these sort of things can actually happen," Tatsuki-san said. "My only question is what the person who should have been executed- in my case, twice over- does."
I paused to think for a moment.
"I assume that most people capable of doing such terrible things would just go about their lives," I said. "But if you're asking what you should do, it's make the most of your life."
"That's what I'll try to do," Tatsuki-san said, "since it's the only option that makes sense to me at this point."
The meal wasn't anything special. I wasn't especially fond of it, but I could tolerate it. It was the first real dinner I'd had since I set out for the island, so a part of me was grateful for my return to the ship. The next few days would likely be peaceful and uneventful, and while those times were fleeting, I'd learned to treasure them as much as my happiest days before the killing game.
By the time I finished dinner, most of us had already left, but I saw Kumakura-san sitting by himself, slowly eating.
"Oh, hello, Nagato-san," Kumakura-san said. "Sorry I'm a slow eater; I don't exactly like spicy foods."
"It's fine," I said. "If you like, I could keep you company while you finish."
Kumakura said "Yes, please," and I poured myself a glass of water before sitting down. Not long afterward, Kumakura finished.
"Personally, I miss the rations," Kumakura-san said. "Please don't tell Higurashi-kun that, though."
"I won't," I said, "but I could suggest that he make spicy foods less often."
"Thank you, but it's fine," Kumakura-san said. "Most of all, I'm glad I'm still around to eat the food."
We paused for a moment.
"You've realized, haven't you?" Kumakura-san said. "If things had turned out differently, one of the two of us might have triggered that trap instead of Azuki-san."
"Yes, I know," I said, "and if that had happened, Akira-san would still be here right now, possibly having this conversation with one of us. The other, of course, would be dead."
"True," Kumakura-san said. "In a situation like this, you can't help but think about what might have been, especially since each of the murders turned out differently than how they were planned because of an unforeseen development."
Kumakura-san summed up the situation quite effectively, even if "murder" was used somewhat loosely when referring to Tatsuki-san's plan to have Himemiya-san execute her. If things had gone as the killers had planned, Karita-san would have been struck on the head with a shot put while he was laying in bed, Taiga-san would have been stabbed, and Tatsuki-san would have been hanged. But things didn't turn out that way, resulting in Karita-san, Himemiya-san and Tatsuki-san surviving, and Taiga-san's death being delayed... in exchange for Tsukimura-san, Mihama-san and Akira-san's deaths, as well as Kojima-san dying sooner.
"I guess my point is that this killing game does make you appreciate how fragile life is," Kumakura-san said. "We may be trapped on this cruise, unable to see our families or do some of our favorite things, but at the very least, we're alive. Azuki-san's the reason why I'm still here, and I wish I had a better way to thank her."
"So do I," I said. "but she knows just as well as the rest of us do that this 'game' isn't over yet. The only thing we can do for her right now is to try to make sure this never happens again, and if we can do that, it'll mean more than any 'thank you' ever would."
"I think so, too," Kumakura-san said. "I don't think anyone wants another trial in which one person gets murdered and another gets executed."
I knew that it was irresponsible to confidently say that there would never be another trial, but I knew that, like Kumakura-san said, none of us wanted to see our numbers slowly whittled down. Even those who had committed or attempted murder simply wanted to escape and for their loved ones to be safe, and the only question was how far they were willing to go to get it. Success in the class trials gained the spotless nothing, so it would be in our best interests to never have to step into that courtroom again.
As the sun was setting, I saw Higurashi-san standing on the deck, gazing off toward the sunset. The previous island had completely faded from view, but none of us would soon forget what had transpired on it- if ever.
We stood there a few moments in silence before I spoke.
"So... have you been down to see Mom yet?" I said.
"Not yet," Higurashi-san said. "I'm not about to do it without you, especially not when I'm still not sure what to say to her."
I shrugged helplessly, similarly at a loss. Mom had seen the entirety of all the trials broadcast to her cell from the camera in the courtroom, so informing her of the events was superfluous; we mainly met up with her to discuss what we would do going forward. The first time had been the official start of the killing game, as well as grim proof that our classmates would kill each other if pushed far enough. The second time had been an unusual case, with a murderer going unpunished, yet having no desire to kill again. The third time, apart from costing us one of our most valuable members, simply proved how far Monokuma would go to get the killing game going, and how little we could do about it.
"That reminds me," I said. "At the start of the last trial, you seemed different. You were willing to accept that one of us had betrayed the group, and we'd have to sacrifice that person in order to live."
"Well, I was wrong about the cause of Mihama-san's death," Higurashi-san said, "since Azuki-san never betrayed us, but other than that, you're right. I always thought that we'd be able to prevent anyone from dying, and that any deaths that did happen were avoidable. In hindsight, that must seem idealistic at best, or arrogant at worst. Perhaps Kirishima-kun is on to something."
I shook my head, having realized what I wanted to say to Kirishima-san. Whenever I heard something I disagreed with, I always had an easier time making a rebuttal when it wasn't to the speaker's face.
"He isn't wrong to say that the situation is bleak, even hopeless," I said, "but at the same time, if you just accept that the body count will steadily grow, then it's all too easy to stop caring and place your own survival ahead of everyone else's. I don't have any more idea of what the solution is than we do, but I do know what our goal should be- keeping as many people alive as long as possible."
"You're right, Nagato-san," Higurashi-san said. "Perhaps it may be overly idealistic, but I will never give up on that goal. The only thing that's changed is what sacrifices I will make to see it happen."
I smiled and nodded.
"That we'll make," I said. "Please remember, Higurashi-san; I may not be all that reliable, but even I can share your burden."
"I know you can," Higurashi-san said. "I'm counting on you."
I felt a bit reassured to hear that. From the beginning, Higurashi-san had mainly only needed me as an assistant who could corroborate his reports, so if there was anything I could do to be of use to him, then I'd gladly do it.
I retired to my cabin for the night. After changing into my nightgown, I heard the Night Time announcement. That announcement usually signaled that it was bedtime for me, even if I wasn't nearly ready to go to bed.
I knelt beside my bedside and prayed for Mihama-san and Akira-san's souls, but as I did, I questioned my faith. The idea that we were all sinners, and needed Jesus' sacrifice to wipe away our sins so we could get into heaven was both humbling and comforting, but what about the non-believers? I had trouble accepting that Yamazaki-san deserved eternal damnation for a murder committed out of desperation, much less Akira-san and the other four who had done nothing wrong, save not sharing my and my mother's religion.
And what about me? If I died in the killing game, would I be able to see Dad and Akira-san again in heaven, as well as Mom if she perished along with me? Or would I end up burning in hell for all eternity? Or did the god I'd believed in all my life even exist? I had so many questions and hoped to ask our priest, Father Sakura, about them, even if Father Sakura had never experienced anything like this killing game before.
I fell asleep when I was too tired to stay awake. As grateful as I was to have survived the class trial, I'd never wished the killing game was just a bad dream more than I did now.
Day 19
I woke up as usual in the morning, rubbed my eyes and got out of bed.
"Good morning, Akira-san," I said.
No one replied.
I looked around my cabin. Akira-san's bed was neatly made, but there was no one sleeping in it; she hadn't been in that bed since we'd left for that awful island three days ago. Akira-san's death was impossible to deny, but only at this point did I truly become aware of what it meant to live without her.
I changed into my uniform. Akira-san's clothes were still in the closet, even though no one had any use for them; they were a bit large for me, after all. Once I was finished, I set out for the dining hall by myself.
I headed to the dining hall and looked around, seeing the people who'd gotten here scattered around the room. Usually, Akira-san and I would sit with various people to eat, per Higurashi-san's suggestion to help us bond with our classmates, but a lot had changed since we'd last been on the ship. Six of us had lost our cabinmates, and the remaining two pairs weren't on the best of terms, so everyone sat wherever they wanted. With that in mind, I sought out the one student besides Akira-san I could consider a friend, and sat down with her.
"Good morning, Chiyuri-chan," Sayuri-san said. "I see you're wearing your uniform."
"It's a force of habit," I said. "I'm not up on the trends, so one upside is that I don't have to think too hard about dressing myself six days of the week."
That did, of course, leave off the evenings, but Mom was fairly open-minded about what clothes I wore at home, so once I got home, I could just open up my drawer and pick out whatever was on top. Mom did insist that I look nice for Mass, but luckily, I had a few dresses that met her approval.
"I see," Sayuri-san said. "I personally like wearing a sailor fuku, an iconic uniform for high school girls. Then again, it's not as though my school gives me a choice."
"Is your school strict about personal appearance?" I said.
"Oh, yes," Sayuri said. "Makeup, piercings, tattoos, dyed or bleach hair, and various accessories are not allowed. You're expected to keep your uniform neat, which means that if I'd worn mine to the island, it would have gotten so dirty that the hall monitors would have sent me home to change. They see it as a matter of representing your school well."
I remembered one thing that Dad had once told Mom, which she, in turn told me. Dad recalled that one of his classmates, the Ultimate Political Activist, had been arrested at a demonstration, and shortly thereafter, was expelled from Talent High School for damaging the school's reputation. He'd been disgusted by the reasons behind the expulsion, as well as the implicit belief that students existed for the school's benefit, rather than the other way around. He expected students to fulfill their obligations, but to help the school help them. I agreed with the principle he expressed, if only because I never thought I could be a student my school would be proud of.
"I wonder what Talent High School would say about what happened here," I said. "It lost six students in less than three weeks, and two of those deaths were murders. With a scandal like that, it'll be shaken to the core."
"I'm sure it would," Sayuri-san said, "and what if the school itself was responsible?"
"A-Are you saying Mom's the traitor?!" I said.
Sayuri-san emphatically shook her head.
"Calm down, Chiyuri-chan," Sayuri-san said, "and no, I am not. It is entirely possible that your mother was merely used as a disposable pawn by the school, not realizing that they intended to sacrifice her. If anyone is responsible, it's the headmistress or the chairman of the board. Take this with a grain of salt, though; it's only a theory."
In other words, Mom's boss or my grandfather. Of course, Sayuri-san still didn't know about my father or his father, so she couldn't know that.
"I know," I said. "I'm sorry I got upset."
"It's fine," Sayuri-san said. "I guess it's easier to suspect an outsider than it is to suspect one of us."
I nodded, and let the subject drop. Outside of my mom and a handful of friends, as well as a few people I disliked, I considered the majority of my classmates acquaintances, but I felt closer to them than most of the others I'd gone to school with over the years. It was difficult to accept that any of them could have assisted in- let alone masterminded- something so horrible; as much as I couldn't stand Asakura, I thought even he would have moral qualms against letting his classmates die.
Before long, Monokuma popped up once again.
"Good morning, everyone,' Monokuma said. "How are you this fine day?"
None of us answered him. We were glad that we'd made it through the last trial, but regretted the cost. The executions were brutal enough that we saw them as too harsh for a murderer, let alone someone who hadn't sought to kill anyone.
"Anyway, I have an announcement," Monokuma said. "We should reach the island in the morning three days from now, but until then, I have a little special something planned for you- career counseling!"
"What does that involve?" Higurashi-san said. "I think most of us know about the concept, but it would be good to clarify the finer details."
"The rules are simple," Monokuma said. "I'll call you into the lounge one at a time- the girls tomorrow and the boys the day after tomorrow- and ask you questions about what careers you want. There's only one catch- you have to think of ideas that don't directly involve your talent."
So in other words, this was probably Monokuma's first real "lesson" to us. He was most likely saying that in the changing world, we'd have to give up what we cherished most. Given that it was only the first lesson, it most likely wasn't even the most horrific thing we'd have to learn.
"When exactly is this happening?" Higurashi-san said.
"The girls are going tomorrow and the boys are going the day after that," Monokuma said. "I'll give you the times for each person's appointment on the morning their group goes, so keep your schedules open. If you need a reminder, I'll announce your name on the monitors ten minutes before your appointment- be there or get punished."
That wasn't exactly a hard request, since there wasn't much for me to do while the ship was sailing. My days mostly consisted of the routine- eating, sleeping, bathing, meeting with Mom, washing my clothes and occasional other things- all of which could be rescheduled if necessary.
"What about Mom?" I said.
"She's exempt," Monokuma said, "since she doesn't have a talent and can't leave her cell."
Mom had a passion for teaching, much like Dad had, and while her pregnancy had been unplanned, she had always wanted to become a mother. Her life hadn't always gone as she'd hoped it would, but she was grateful for what she had, so what would she do if she could no longer teach?
"One more thing," Monokuma said. "For getting through the trial yesterday, I'll give you a new digit- it's a 3. So far, you've got a 1, another 1 and a 3, but not necessarily in that order. See you around, kids."
Monokuma departed once again, and we were silent until he was out of earshot.
"So I suppose we have no choice but to wait for our turn?" Kurogane-san said.
"It seems so," I said. "Higurashi-san and I will discuss this with Mom, and let you know. Still, be careful what you say to Monokuma."
Even as I said that, I suspected that Monokuma had a good idea of what our weaknesses were. Not only did he have the help of the traitor, someone who'd attended school with us for two years and possibly knew certain individuals for even longer, but he'd seen us at our lowest and most vulnerable points through the surveillance cameras and Monodrones. Still, it couldn't hurt to be too careful, so I wasn't looking forward to the career counseling.
Higurashi-san and I went to talk with Mom after breakfast. She listened carefully as she heard us recap what Monokuma had said, but seemed disturbed.
"Is something wrong, Sensei?" Higurashi-san said.
"It's nothing, Higurashi-san," Mom said. "I was just surprised that Monokuma proposed the idea."
"Me too," I said. "After all, Mom was the one who thought of it in the first place, and introduced it to Talent High School."
Mom nodded.
"It's basically common sense," Mom said. "Not all Ultimates are necessarily able to continue practicing their talents into adulthood; some, like Yamazaki-san's, are hobbies that do not make for viable careers, while athletic talents, such as Kumakura-san's, can only be practiced when one is in peak physical condition. As such, I ask my students to think of alternative careers that they could feasibly pursue."
While Mom was being completely honest, there was a third reason for this. Some "faux-Ultimates" like me couldn't hope to get careers based around the talents we didn't actually have, so we had to think of alternatives. That said, this in no way detracted from the fact that Mom was doing her best to ensure that her students succeeded.
"I see," Higurashi said. "While my talent is more of a general skill than a specific occupation, I admire the principle at play here."
"Me too," I said. "You really put a lot of effort into preparing students for the future, Mom."
"I wouldn't be much of a teacher if I didn't do that," Mom said. "The world you children are growing up into will be very different from when I reached adulthood. I can't see the future, but I have an obligation to do everything I can to make sure you're best equipped to handle whatever you may face."
I smiled approvingly. Some people described Hope's Peak and Talent High Schools as schools that used their students as pawns to advance their ulterior motives, and while I couldn't completely deny that, I thought that Mom was at least one exception to the rule.
"In any case," Mom said, "while I don't know what Monokuma is planning with the motives, all I can say is please be careful."
"Yes, ma'am," Higurashi-san and I said.
While it was reassuring to know that Mom had the same idea that I did, I couldn't help but feel a bit worried about the career counseling. Unlike most of Monokuma's traps, it wasn't clear how he intended to use it to get us to kill one another, even if it was obvious that he was up to no good. Perhaps it was part of the greater purpose behind the killing game, one that we had yet to uncover.
Not long after noon, I found Kirishima-san sitting in the lounge reading. I couldn't easily tell what book it was by glancing at the cover, the back or the spine, but given the plain brown binding, it didn't seem like a book he read for fun.
"Hello, Nagato-kun," Kirishima said. "What can I do for you?"
"I'd like to ask about the combination for the keypad," I said. "As of today, we're up to three out of five digits, aren't we?"
"Yes, we did," Kirishima said, "but that raises its share of problems. Did Azuki-kun tell you about the previous digits we received?"
I paused to think.
"I believe she did," I said. "The trouble is that you don't know which slots each number is for?"
"That is only half of the problem," Kirishima said. "Now, we know that the numbers are not all the same. It was never a feasible possibility, but now that it has been ruled out, we are faced with new complications."
I nodded. Even if, for example, the digits we got were for the first three slots, then they could be 311 or 131 just as easily as they might be the most obvious answer, 113. Once we figured that out, we'd have to go through the hundred combinations for the remaining two digits.
"There is another concern," Kirishima-san said. "I have been tracking the ship's movements all this time, and noticed that for the most part, we have been heading east. However, the distance covered presents a problem. Either my calculations are incorrect, or we are in the middle of America."
Kirishima-san took out his notebook and showed me his calculations. They were too detailed for me to read the entire thing, but he'd clearly well documented our entire travels. Instead, I looked at the picture, and saw that it was as he said.
"There's another thing I'd like to ask about," I said. "Just before the trial, Akira-san mentioned that she saw a machine with about 24 pods in the basement of the office complex. Do you know anything about it that you haven't told her?"
Kirishima-san took a look at Akira-san's notes, then shook his head.
"Unfortunately, nothing important," Kirishima said. "For all we know, it could be just another background detail to give life to the setting. On the other hand, Monokuma hid this secret in the most dangerous of the buildings, so perhaps he meant for us to find it."
"But if he wanted us to learn it so badly, why didn't he just tell us?" I said.
"Perhaps he knew we would not believe him," Kirishima-san said. "Sasaki-kun, as a writer, believes in the principle of 'show, dont' tell,' so perhaps Monokuma had that in mind. That would explain why, apart from telling us the rules of the killing game, he left us to discover the answers to our questions on our own."
Kirishima-san's suggestion would explain why we conveniently happened to find clues around the various ideas. Monokuma was most likely trying to lead us to discover something, but what? While following the trail would likely lead to us playing right into his hands, ignorance was of no benefit to us, so it behooved us to learn as much as we could.
I decided to go see Karita-san and ask him about what we'd learned on the island. I found him on the deck, sitting by the pool.
"I'd like to know something, Karita-san," I said. "You were on the basement search team with Higurashi-san and Kirishima-san, so what do you think of what they found in there?"
"Oh, the pods?" Karita-san said. "It's an interesting discovery, but I doubt it'll make all that much difference, at least in the short term. We found it too easily, after all."
I glanced at him skeptically.
"I guess I should explain what I mean by 'too easy,'" Karita-san said. "Monokuma left it out there for us to find, albeit in a somewhat dangerous area. It's a bit like hiding the treasure in a treasure hunt in the woods behind your house, rather than in a safe for which only you have the combination."
"That'd be cheating," I said, "or at least something you're not supposed to do. Games are supposed to be fair, after all."
Karita-san laughed mirthlessly.
"By now, we know that Monokuma doesn't play fair," Karita-san said, "since the game is supposed to pit us against each other, rather than against him. I'm a bit surprised that the room in the basement didn't have anything that led to a murder, but regardless of what happened, Monokuma got his murder and execution anyway."
"Fair enough," I said, "but what if Himemiya-san had sacrificed Tachibana-san, then been executed herself?"
"Then I guess the result would have been more or less the same," Karita-san said, "and the only difference would be who died. I'm glad to see Higurashi-kun starting to accept that deaths are going to be inevitable, even if it may not do much good in the end."
I shook my head and walked away, unwilling to argue with Karita-san. Ever since I'd gotten into that fight in elementary school, I'd learned not to make waves. While this attitude had largely kept me out of trouble since then, I had to wonder if it also made me a coward.
After dinner, I found Himemiya-san sitting in the lounge. After exchanging hellos, I sat down next to her.
"I'd like your honest opinion, Nagato-san," Himemiya-san said. "Was I out of line with what I said yesterday?"
"Not exactly," I said. "While your tone was harsh, I understood why you were upset that I didn't vote for Akira-san."
Himemiya-san frowned, seemingly disappointed.
"I thought you'd say that," Himemiya-san said. "You aren't the sort to tell others when you think they're wrong."
"That's just who I am," I said. "I'm not the sort of person who can say whatever's on my mind, like Akira-san could. All my life, I've been worried about fitting in with others, and I've been too scared to say anything that might start a fight."
It sounded like an excuse, and it was. Himemiya-san however, didn't seem to judge me for it.
"You're not the only one," Himemiya-san said. "Unlike most friends, Kanae and I never fought over anything. We didn't always agree, but Kanae usually made her point, and backed down whenever I made a rebuttal. For the longest time, I assumed that she was afraid to offend me because of her status as my servant."
"If she was, I know how she feels," I said.
"But that wasn't the case," Himemiya-san said. "Kanae really was a good-natured, easygoing person who didn't like to butt heads with others, least of all a close friend. Akira was cut from a different cloth, and didn't hesitate to say what was on her mind, which is why I respected her; she treated me like an equal. Both Kanae and Akira were dear friends to me, in different ways, and no one will ever replace them."
Himemiya-san blinked back tears. As she did, I finally realized what I needed to say.
"If I was offended by what you'd said, I would have told you," I said, "but I recognize that I need to be willing to make hard choices from here on out. I can't replace Akira-san, but I will be honest with you, since it's what you deserve."
"Thank you, Nagato-san," Himemiya-san said, "and no, you don't have to be Akira. I think you have the temperament necessary to be a good maid, which is more than I could say for Akira."
I smiled appreciatively. Our group had suffered a great loss when Akira-san had died, but at the very least, we still had Himemiya-san, who was an asset in her own way. Those of us who were left could combine our strengths, and together, we'd fill the hole in our group.
After taking a shower, I once again put on my nightgown and said my bedtime prayers. Today had been a relatively good day for the killing game, since no one had died. It was truly a shame that Mihama-san, who'd perished in a tragic accident, and Akira-san, who'd died to ensure our survival, couldn't share today with us. The same went for the other four who'd died so far, even the ones responsible for their own demises.
I didn't have much of an idea what Monokuma's career counseling amounted to, or what he hoped to do after speaking with everyone, but I had a small, humble wish. I hoped that this period of tranquility would continue as long as possible.
After making my request, which I hoped wasn't asking too much of God, I got into bed and fell asleep before too long.
Monokuma Theater
You know what the cool thing about beginning in medias res is? It cuts out all the boring stuff such as exposition and character development.
A war movie can begin with the two sides shooting each other without having to explain why they're at war, while a romantic comedy can start at the first date.
Hell, on a cooking show, you can just take out the dish they made as a sample of the finished product and eat it, without worrying about that cooking nonsense.
Instant gratification is the best, I say!
Day 20
I woke up, having had the same type of dream Akira-san must have had all those nights, save for after the trials. I wasn't surprised to realize that Akira-san had been telling the truth, but I was sad that I'd lost the one person I could talk to about them. Not only was Akira-san the one person I knew of who'd had the same dreams I did, but I trusted her more than anyone else.
There was something rather honest and egalitarian about Akira-san. While she showed respect to her betters, she treated everyone else as her equals. If she didn't like you, she'd let you know in no uncertain terms, so her friendliness wasn't simply to get on others' good sides; it was her seal of approval for you as a person. Out of everyone here, I felt that she was the truest friend I'd had, with Sayuri-san coming a close second.
Of course, while I would always miss Akira-san, the time for self-pity had passed. Just as Mom had moved on with her life after Dad's death, I would take the first steps forward, and try to live up to the faith Akira-san showed in me.
I checked the weather, and saw some rain this morning, which would clear up around noon. If nothing else, I was glad that the counseling was indoors.
We sat down for breakfast. Before any of us could get a conversation started, Monokuma showed up.
"Good morning, everyone," Monokuma said. "Have you given some thought to what sort of careers you'd like to pursue apart from your talents?"
Some of us shrugged, others ignored Monokuma, and still others grunted or nodded yes. Higurashi-san, earnest as always, politely said "Yes, I have," and after a moment, I said, "Me too."
"Anyway, I'm here for an announcement," Monokuma said. "It's the first day of career counseling, and as they say, ladies first. Check your handbooks for the sechedule."
I opened up my handbook's documents folder and found a schedule for the day.
Career Counseling Day 1: Girls
Session 1(9 AM-11 AM): Nagato-san
Session 2(11 AM-1 PM) Taiga-san
Session 3(1 PM-3 PM) Himemiya-san
Session 4(3 PM-5 PM) Sasaki-san
Tatsuki-san quivered in pain as she saw her sister's name listed under her slot under the schedule.
"Can't we have one of the boys take a turn today?" Kurogane-san said. "That way, we'd have five people on each day."
"I might've done something like that if any more of the girls had died," Monokuma said, "but it's simpler to keep the genders separate. Anyway, for you, it's even simpler; show up to your appointment on time, or get punished. I'll see the ladies soon, and Nagato-san very soon- or else."
Monokuma departed.
"It seems that once again, we must obey Monokuma's summons," Higurashi-san said.
"Yeah, I'm not a fan of dying, either," Asakura said, "but it definitely sounds like a trap."
"Perhaps it does," I said, "but since I will be the first to go, I can ascertain what Monokuma is planning. Sayuri-san, Tatsuki-san, Himemiya-san, I'd like to speak with you three once I'm done."
The three girls all responded in the affirmative. Asakura didn't have any further rebuttals, which was good, because I had no desire for a one-on-one conversation with him.
I quickly finished my breakfast, knowing I had places to be. Higurashi-san followed my lead, and together, we were the first to leave the dining hall.
Higurashi-san and I decided to quickly stop by Mom's cell. As I rode the elevator down, I couldn't help but anxiously wish it went faster, even though I knew the only way for that was to cut the cable, causing the elevator to take a one-way trip to the bottom of the shaft.
We quickly summarized the schedule for today.
"Anyway, I'm up first, Mom," I said, "and my appointment starts at 9, in the lounge."
"Then I won't keep you," Mom said. "I'd rather not see you arrive late and be punished."
I nodded, but checked my watch and saw that I still had at least 40 minutes.
"Just one quick question," I said. "What would you do for a living if you weren't able to teach anymore?"
"Whatever I could," Mom said. "Teaching is my passion, and what I'm best at, and since there's always a need for teachers, I'm sure that I could find a job. If not, I would perform whatever job I could get that would be of benefit to others. Please remember that not everyone gets to do what they want for a living."
I nodded. For every Ultimate who earned their title in a sought-after field like sports, music or showbiz, there were thousands of people who could only dream of such a thing. I wasn't the only one who had to come to terms with her lack of talent- just one of the few who'd gotten into Talent High School in spite of that.
"I know," I said. "I'm heading out now, Mom."
"Until later, Nagato-sensei," Higurashi-san said. "We'll keep you apprised of the situation."
Higurashi-san and I said goodbye and boarded the elevator together.
After the elevator reached the main deck, I parted ways with Higurashi-san. After a quick bathroom break to... relieve myself and freshen up, I headed to the lounge a little over half an hour in advance of my appointment, and sat down.
Ordinarily, this sort of meeting would be held in the faculty room, or a private office, but the cruise ship had neither of those facilities; the closest thing was the bridge. I momentarily suspected that the Ursa Major had never been meant to be used for the killing game, until I remembered that there were no fewer than three execution chambers in the bowels of the ship. As such, the Ursa Major had always been Monokuma's property, the floating arena for the killing game.
If that was true, then Talent High School was somehow involved in this killing game, and Mom was the traitor, but I found the theory too hard to accept. Not only would I be concluding that Mom would gladly let her daughter and the rest of our class die, but Talent High School itself would have been complicit. Neither of them had any rational motive for participating in this killing game, so I had no reason to believe that they were the culprits.
At 9 AM on the dot, Monokuma arrived, interrupting my thoughts.
"Good morning, Nagato-san," Monokuma said. "I'm glad you could make it. Have a seat."
"Yes, sir," I said. "Thank you very much for taking the time to see me."
As I sat down, I was a bit surprised with myself for being so polite to the one most responsible for the death and suffering here. Maybe it was because he was actually acting a bit like a proper teacher.
"I'd like to talk with you about your career options today," Monokuma said. "There's a chance that there may not be tech support jobs in the future; maybe they got outsourced to who knows where, or maybe no one's phones are working anymore. What'd you want to do for a living?"
I paused to think for a moment, then answered.
"I'd like to be a teacher," I said. "Math may be my only good subject, but I hope that even I can help pass on my knowledge to the next generation."
"I'm sure you can," Monokuma said. "If you manage to get out of here, I hope you'll pass the valuable lessons you've learned on to your students, and teach them how to love despair."
So this was what Monokuma had in mind. As far as verbal traps went, I'd seen worse, but he obviously wasn't cut out to be a career counselor.
"Still," Monokuma said, "I never thought you'd give up on your talent that easily."
"I'm a bit surprised myself," I said, "but really, when I think about it, I only ever wanted to be an Ultimate because it would make me 'special,' which was better than being an untalented illegitimate child. It was nice to be able to help people with their tech-related problems, but there are other ways to help by passing on knowledge."
"You're remarkably flexible," Monokuma said. "The unfortunate thing about the tough ones is that they'd sooner snap in half than bend, but maybe you're adaptable enough to learn the lessons you need to. You've taken to the class trials remarkably well for someone of your limited talents, so don't disappoint me."
I let off a reflexive "No, sir," but didn't want to dignify that statement with a comment. The thought of any more of us dying here was scary, and the thought of the survivors being twisted beyond all recognition was downright terrifying. The only defense mechanism I had against a thought like that was to not think about it, so that was what I chose to do.
"I think that wraps it up," Monokuma said. "You may go now."
I checked my watch and saw that while my session was supposed to last until 11 AM, it wasn't even 9:11 AM.
"Already?" I said. "It seems as though you've budgeted a lot more time than you need."
"Better safe than sorry," Monokuma said. "Anyway, I'm done with you, so run along, and I'll have my break until 11, when I go see Taiga-san."
I then got up, bowed and excused myself. I had a lot to think about, but for now, I needed to meet up with the other girls.
I rounded up other girls, had them meet in the dining hall and gave them a good idea of what to expect. It took me a little while to get the four of them, and we convened a little after 10. It took me a couple minutes to summarize what I'd talked about with Monokuma.
"So in other words, Monokuma is trying to get us to face the prospect of having to live without our talents," Himemiya-san said. "I can see why people might be upset."
"Are you saying you're not put out by that, Himemiya-san?" I said.
Himemiya-san shook her head. I couldn't initially tell whether she meant, "No, I don't," or "No, you're wrong about that."
"To be honest, Nagato-san, I have mixed feelings," Himemiya-san said. "When I realized that I was an archery prodigy, and later became the Ultimate Archer, I was proud of myself, since it was something I'd achieved by virtue of my own merits, rather than my family ties. Before that, however, archery was simply an extracurricular my family expected me to take, and I suspected I'd have to give it up one day. That belief didn't change even as I became successful, so while I'd be sad to have to quit, I could at least look back on it fondly."
"I feel the same way, Himemiya-san," Sayuri-san said, "since manga is a highly competitive field. Having to outdo my fellow artists by producing enjoyable, well-drawn and innovative manga challenges me to improve myself and make the best product possible for the readers, but I know I can't do so forever."
"Me neither," Tatsuki-san said, "since music's the same way. I think Taiga knew that, too..."
The three of us glanced at Tatsuki-san, who seemed uncomfortable. This would probably be hard for her, and not just because Monokuma's calling her by her sister's name reopened the wound to the heart she'd suffered in the second trial.
"I see," I said. "A part of me has been jealous of people like you and the others, for being so good at something you're passionate about."
"Like I said, if you know how few people accomplish what you do, then you don't take it for granted," Sayuri-san said. "At this point, I'd just be happy to get out of here alive. I won't even mind too much if the magazine I'm published in drops Breakneck Canyon and blacklists me for going AWOL and missing my deadlines."
"I know," I said, "but even if we do live through this, I'm worried about how we'll change. Monokuma described me as the 'flexible' type who'll bend rather than break."
Himemiya-san frowned, clearly as concerned as I was.
"I wish I could be more optimistic," Himemiya-san said, "but I've come to realize that it's impossible to predict the future in here. The only thing I can say is that if you're haunted by what's happened thus far, and fear what might happen next, you're still human."
I felt a bit relieved upon hearing this, as did Tatsuki-san. We'd lost too much to get to this point, but at the very least, we hadn't lost ourselves.
I took a walk around the ship. A little after 11, I found Tatsuki-san sitting by herself in the dining hall, after her counseling session ended.
"Hello, Tatsuki-san," I said. "How did the counseling go?"
"Quite well, thank you," Tatsuki-san said. "I had a good idea of what to expect, so I said I'd become a music teacher. Like with you, Monokuma expressed the hope- in a manner of speaking- that I'd teach my students about despair. He also thought I was 'flexible'; in fact, he said I was more than halfway there. He also made a point of calling me 'Taiga-san' a few times for good measure, and acted as though my main talent was songwriting, not guitar playing."
I didn't know what I could say besides "I'm sorry to hear that." I was well-versed in the etiquette about condolences, but what could I say to someone who felt responsible for her sister's death?
"I actually didn't just say what I wanted him to hear," Tatsuki-san said. "I was telling the truth. Being a teacher was something I'd always considered before Dragon Girl became famous. It wasn't my first choice of a career, but..."
"But?" I said.
"To be honest," Tatsuki-san said, "I'm not so sure I deserve to do whatever I'm passionate about after what I've done. Rather than merely produce entertainment for people, I should pursue an occupation that is of benefit to others. A music teacher may not be able to save lives, but by teaching others, I can atone for what I've done."
I frowned. Leaving aside the fact that Tatsuki-san's talent was more impressive than mine, she was clearly forgetting something very important for an entertainer. While I couldn't replace Akira-san, I knew what she'd say in this situation.
"So all the songs you've performed mean nothing?" I said. "Your music never had a positive impact on anyone's life?"
"I didn't say that," Tatsuki-san said, "but is music what the world needs if it's in the state of disorder?"
"It needs a lot of things," I said, "among them art, entertainment and the other creative works that make life more enjoyable. I'm not saying that becoming a music teacher would be a bad idea- people do need to teach children the importance of appreciating music and train aspiring musicians. I'm just saying that people out there are waiting for Dragon Girl to make a comeback."
For a moment, I thought I'd gotten overly preachy, and maybe I had been, but Tatsuki-san merely smiled, not judging me.
"Thank you, Nagato-san," Tatsuki-san said. "I'm not sure I'll ever forgive myself for what I've done, but I'll try to keep what you said in mind. After all, you sounded a bit like a teacher."
I giggled softly. It was a bit surprising that someone like me could actually give good advice to a famous musician like her, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. My conversation with the other girls a little while ago had taught me that the only difference between the Ultimates and me is that they just so happened to be good at something; that didn't mean they didn't have flaws or couldn't make mistakes. I still felt out of place among my talented classmates, but I no longer believed that we had nothing in common.
Most of us got lunch at around noon, some time after Tatsuki-san's session had ended. Himemiya-san ate quickly and then headed to the lounge.
After Himemiya-san's turn, she met up with me on the deck. By now, the rain had stopped.
"So how did it go, Himemiya-san?" I said. "Was it difficult to come up with an alternative career path?"
"Not at all, Nagato-san," Himemiya-san said. "In fact, mine is a dream I've had for some time."
"What sort of dream?" I said.
"It's not all that special," Himemiya-san said. "My goal after graduating high school and college was to get a job at a corporation, possibly one company owned by my father. I'd start out as an entry-level employee, clad in an inexpensive but professional skirt suit, and rise as far as my ability takes me."
"That's remarkably humble," I said.
"In a way, but it's also audacious," Himemiya-san said. "By following this path, I'd prove that a girl born with a silver spoon in her mouth is content with living an ordinary life, and someone with an Ultimate Talent is willing to earn things herself. Of course, I can't get everything I want, since in that vision of my life, I'd be sharing an apartment with Kanae, at least until she finds a boyfriend and moves out to live with him."
I nodded sadly. While Akira-san would probably have to travel too much to live with me, I had hoped to keep in touch with her, and possibly see her whenever she was in town.
"I think most of us have lost precious and irreplaceable things," Himemiya-san said. "We've lost our friends and our innocence in the killing games; only Kanae was able to keep the latter to the end. If what the newspaper implies is true, our homes and schools have probably been destroyed, and our families and friends are likely missing or dead. We will most likely have little time for leisure in this new world, and may not be able to do the jobs we'd hoped to. Even so, we must come to terms with what we've lost, and accept the lives we must now lead."
"That's certainly a wise perspective," I said. "Of course, Monokuma also said something similar after the trial... although he wants us to adapt in a different way."
"Quite true," Himemiya-san said. "I may be the last person to say this, given my privileged upbringing, but there are few things more valuable than the strength to withstand adversity."
I teared up, at which point Himemiya-san put a hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eye.
"Of course, there are times when your strength isn't enough," Himemiya-san said, "but it doesn't have to solely come from you. Hang in there, Nagato-san, and please remember; you're not alone."
"I know," I said. "Thank you, Himemiya-san; I'm thinking of you, too.'
For the longest time, I imagined I only had two allies- Mom and God. That hadn't changed, not even after I started having a crisis of faith, but meeting Akira-san had taught me how much a true friend can enrich one's life. I swore to treasure the friends that I had, and repay their kindness and loyalty as best as I could.
Sayuri-san was the last of the girls to attend career counseling, with her session starting at 3 PM. Once she was done, she met up with me in the dining hall.
"Hello, Sayuri-san," I said. "How did it go?"
"Surprisingly well," Sayuri-san said. "I actually had a few ideas for a post-manga career, since I know my success won't last forever, so it wasn't hard to answer Monokuma's questions."
Sayuri-san sat down at a table, and I followed suit.
"That's certainly mature of you," I said. "Have you considered becoming an art teacher?"
"I have," Sayuri-san said, "but it isn't for me. I mainly specialize in manga-style art, so I'm not all that good at sculptures or even painting. There's a significant difference between drawing with a pen and with a brush, between using ink and using paint, and between creating a single image and drawing a set of pictures that tell a story."
"So what then?" I said.
"Let's see..." Sayuri-san said. "I could work as a cashier in a bookstore or arts and crafts store. I could get a job as a receptionist or secretary for a manga publisher. I could take the cliché path, and become a housewife or female salaryman."
I nodded.
"I'm amazed, Sayuri-san," I said. "You seem so confident, even if things don't end up working out for you. Is it because you've accomplished so much?"
"You could think of it that way, Chiyuri-chan," Sayuri-san said, "but in order to succeed, you have to believe in yourself. Whenever I pitched a manga, I had to have faith in my idea, since I couldn't convince the editors that it was a good idea if I didn't think so myself."
"You have a point," I said. "I'm curious because I'm wondering how Akira-san was able to do so well as an actress and in the class trials."
"Probably for the same reason," Sayuri-san said. "She had faith in herself and evidence to support her."
I let out a long sigh.
"I guess that's the problem for me," I said. "All my life, I've never had any sort of basis for my confidence, at least until I became Ultimate Tech Support. But even with that..."
I trailed off, unable to complete the thought.
"Oh, because Asakura-kun has the title, too?" Sayuri-san said. "Well, it doesn't matter. Akira-chan trusted you, knowing that you'd helped out in the past. If you find yourself doubting yourself, use that as your foundation and stand tall."
I smiled and thanked Sayuri-san. It wasn't easy for me to simply have confidence in my own words, but every time I doubted myself, I'd try to remember what she said.
By dinner time, all four of the girls were done for the day, so we met up and discussed our counseling to share advice for the boys. Unfortunately, none of them were likely to glean much from it, and not because they weren't listening or weren't intelligent enough to learn from it.
"So let's see if I have this right," Asakura said. "Four girls with different skillsets meet up with Monokuma, who gives them feedback on what talents they have- or don't have in Nagato's case. How the hell are we supposed to learn anything about what he'll say about us?"
I sighed. While it still hurt a bit to hear Asakura's usual rudeness, and to acknowledge that he was right about my not deserving my title, I'd have to get strong enough so that his words wouldn't bother me. That rhyme about sticks and stones wasn't entirely true, but if I let him get to me, I'd let him win.
"I think it's easy enough to understand," I said. "His point is that our talents- the things we're best at, are most passionate about and define our identities- are useless in this new world. Seeing as how possessive you are of your title, I would think you'd understand."
Asakura stayed quiet for now, whether because he didn't want to admit I was right, or losing his title was getting to him more than I thought.
"Nagato-san has a point," Higurashi-san said. "As I've said before, even if we do manage to escape, it is most likely that the world that we grew up in no longer exists. Those who had supported us in our endeavors so far may no longer be able to do so, and we may have to adapt and learn new skills in order to survive. As such, it would be foolish to seek graduation and return to a world in that state."
"Quite true," Kirishima-kun said, "but what do you suppose will come of obediently following Monokuma's rules and somehow reaching the end of our trip with no further deaths?"
"I honestly don't know," Higurashi-san said, "but is there anything that would justify killing someone and putting the majority of us at risk?"
Kirishima-san stared at Higurashi-san blankly, perhaps silently acknowledging the answer was "no" but unwilling to admit that he couldn't answer the question. At that point, the discussion ground to a halt.
These two unanswerable questions summed up how hopeless our situation seemed. On the one hand, considering how desperate things had been on the last island, we had little reason to look forward to the end of the trip. On the other hand, Monokuma's untrustworthy nature meant that even the person who graduated might not get what they wanted. In any case, one thing was certain- no matter whether the cruise ended with us reaching our final destination or someone graduating, more people would die by the time it was over.
After dinner, I saw Kirishima-san on the deck. There was something I'd wanted to ask him about, even if I was the second-to-last person he was willing to talk with about it.
"Do you have a minute, Kirishima-san?" I said. "I have something I would like to ask you."
"I cannot guarantee that I will answer your question, Nagato-kun," Kirishima-san said, "but I will hear it and decide whether to reply."
"All right," I said. "Are you still holding your meetings with the people who decided not to vote for Higurashi-san?"
Kirishima-san shook his head, not to refuse to answer a question asked by Higurashi-san's answer, but to express that his answer was a "no."
"Not anymore," Kirishima-san said. "Out of the six of us, Yamazaki-kun and Azuki-kun are dead, and Himemiya-kun cut ties with the group after our last meeting. The only ones left are myself, Karita-kun, and Asakura-kun, and considering how poorly the latter pair get along, it would be more prudent to meet with them separately."
There were times when I forgot that Karita-kun and Asakura couldn't stand each other, since they were able to make a conscious effort to avoid interacting with each other, and could at least coexist in their cabin. Maybe Asakura was rude to me because he had no reason to fear me retaliating against him.
"I thought so," I said. "That said, I'm a bit surprised you so willingly answered my question, considering I work with Higurashi-san."
"I am not afraid of Higurashi-kun retaliating against me," Kirishima-san said. "His personality and temperament aside, we did not present any threat to him, even back when there were six of us. Perhaps we did not believe he was a good leader, but we had no alternative candidate to choose over him."
I quickly counted up everyone who was left. Out of the ten of us, there were only four people who'd voted against Higurashi-san, while five people, myself included, had voted for him. If another election were held, Higurashi-san would likely win the narrowest possible majority, but in terms of the electorate, it would be unanimous. He had always believed in the power of democracy, so he'd never been completely happy about getting into office just because no one opposed him.
"This may sound naïve," I said, "but you seem intelligent, so why not contribute more in our discussions?"
"I would, if I believed my input could solve our problems," Kirishima-san said. "The harsh truth is that we are not uniting against an outside threat; the threat comes from within our group. Perhaps Monokuma forced us into this game, possibly with the traitor's help, but Yamazaki-kun, Kojima-kun and Tatsuki-kun chose to play it."
As harsh as his words were, I couldn't refute what he was saying. That said, I didn't have to accept it, either.
"Yes, that's true," I said, "since this is a matter of choices, after all. Taiga-san chose to die in her sister's place. Tatsuki-san chose to sacrifice herself as a last resort to atone for her mistake, and Himemiya-san chose to die alongside her. Akira-san chose to let herself be convicted and executed rather than see the rest of us die. It may be too much each of us to trust our classmates unreservedly, but we can choose to be trustworthy."
"Perhaps," Kirishima-san said, "but for most of us, voting to convict the blackened is a matter of personal survival, and is the only rational choice. When they become desperate enough, they may lose all capacity for logical thought... or realize that acting in their own self interest is indeed the only way to survive."
I left Kirishima-san, feeling depressed. A part of me wished that Akira-san hadn't been the one responsible for Mihama-san's death, but if it had been someone less trustworthy, we might not have survived. Akira-san had saved eleven people, myself included, but would one of them betray the group and spit on what Akira-san had died to accomplish?
Higurashi-san and I went down to see Mom in her cell. I told Mom about what I shared with Monokuma.
"I'm glad to hear that you still want to become a teacher, Chiyuri," Mom said. "Even after everything that's happened, I still think you can do it."
"Thank you, Mom," I said.
Mom turned to Higurashi-san.
"So, Higurashi-san," Mom said, "it seems your turn will come tomorrow."
"Yes, ma'am," Higurashi-san said, "and I know what I will say. My goal of helping others through my leadership has not changed- only my belief in whether I can accomplish it."
"I know all too well how you feel," Mom said, "since if you feel helpless to do anything for your classmates, I am at least as helpless trapped in this cell."
Higurashi-san sighed, seemingly chastened.
"I know," Higurashi-san said. "The only difference between us is that I am free to do something about it, but have not accomplished anything."
"That certainly is true," Mom said. "Of course, while you may regret how things have turned out thus far, if you hope to do something about it, you cannot merely give up."
"I don't plan to, Nagato-sensei," Higurashi-san said. "As long as I'm alive, I'll keep on trying."
While it was depressing to see Higurashi-san lose confidence in himself, I saw a glimmer of the person who'd become our leader. Maybe confidence alone wasn't enough to save us, but as long as he was trying, I felt as though I couldn't give up, either.
I returned to my cabin for the evening. Higurashi-san said he wanted some time alone, so I said good night to him, encouraging him to persevere. But as I settled into my room, showered and changed into my nightgown, I had to wonder- what did it mean to fail in here?
In most games, to lose was to fail. If Higurashi-san was judged a failure as a manager, he might be fired, while as an elected official, he'd been voted out of office. But did that mean that the manager's decision was fair, or that the more popular challenger was better?
Our current state in the killing game was hardly desirable, but we'd evaded the worst-case scenario three times so far. Perhaps that was more due to Akira-san's detective work than Higurashi-san's leadership, but it was still something to be grateful for. That was little comfort to Higurashi-san, or those of us who'd lost people we cared about, but it was the best news we had at this point.
Monokuma Theater
XGK'N LGF MQJS QKLNMZKW DSNNSI NG XG?
Hint: X=D
Day 21
I woke up once again. As I did, I let out a yawn, but even though I was half-asleep, I knew there wasn't anyone to whom I could say "Good morning."
By now, I was starting to get used to the dreams, but I still had yet to become accustomed to waking up without Akira-san. The cabins, which were designed for two people, felt surprisingly lonely when you were the only person around. Only one bed was in use, and the few decorations on your roommate's side were reminders of a person who'd never return. Some people might enjoy having their own private living space, and perhaps not have to wait for the bathroom, but since I'd shared an apartment with Mom and a cabin with Azuki-san, it felt like too much space for me.
I also noticed that I was spending more time in quiet contemplation and introspection now that I had no one to talk with. It helped me reach valuable insights and epiphanies, but at the same time, I missed hearing Akira-san's thoughts. Perhaps this was proof that despite not being totally without allies, I would have to stand on my own and find my own answers to the problems I was facing.
At breakfast, Monokuma showed up once again, just after we'd sat down.
"Today, it's the boys' turn for career counseling," Monokuma said, "and here's the order."
Monokuma emailed us a document and I read it.
Career Counseling Day 2: Boys
Session 1(9 AM-11 AM): Higurashi-san
Session 2(11 AM-1 PM) Kirishima-san
Session 3(1 PM-3 PM) Kurogane-san
Session 4(3 PM-5 PM) Asakura-san.
Session 5(5 PM-7 PM) Karita-san
Session 6(7 PM-9 PM): Kumakura-san
The boys read it over quietly.
"I think we established yesterday that the sessions don't take anywhere near two hours," Kumakura-san said. "Would it be possible for each person to start their session immediately after the previous person's is done?"
"My answer is no, Kumakura-san," Monokuma said. "If these sessions take too long, it's because you don't have enough to say."
Kumakura-san chuckled and sighed.
"Figures," Kumakura-san said. "I guess I'll keep my evening open, then."
"Great," Monokuma said. "I'll see you gentlemen at your respective appointment times- be there or be square."
Monokuma then left once again, and we got back to eating. Those of us who'd had our turn had no desire to discuss our sessions any further, while those who had yet to go had no need of additional preparation. Higurashi-san finished quickly once again, for his own sake rather than mine, and I followed him out of the dining hall once he was done.
Higurashi-san and I took the elevator down to see Mom, quickly telling her about the schedule.
"So today, it's the boys' turn," Mom said.
"Indeed," Higurashi-san said, "and like Nagato-san, I'm up first."
"Then I won't keep you waiting," Mom said. "Please don't be late."
Higurashi-san nodded.
"One more thing, Higurashi-san," I said. "Could you please ask Asakura about his session on my behalf?"
"All right," Higurashi-san said, as he got up and left.
Higurashi-san boarded the elevator. As the doors closed, I turned back to Mom.
"Is something wrong, Mom?" I said.
"Nothing much," Mom said. "I'm just sad that your relationship with Asakura-san hasn't improved."
That was quite the understatement. I'd never enjoyed interacting with him, but after he lashed out at me the night after the second trial, I made a point of avoiding him unless it was absolutely necessary for us to talk.
"I'm not happy about it, either," I said, "but all my attempts to get along well with him have not been received well. I will still try to be polite if we see each other, but I think it would be most prudent to keep contact to a minimum."
I believed in the principle of treating others as you wanted to be treated, but only to a certain point; there was little reason to be kind to someone who treated you poorly in spite of it. Some might say I felt entitled to other's kindness, but all I was asking for was common decency, and believed it was unfair that people like Asakura and those who spread rumors about my being an illegitimate child did not show it to me.
"Besides, Mom," I said, "you've met people you don't get along with, either?"
"I have," Mom said. "Nakamura-sensei, who was the second-year math teacher at Talent High School, always thought of me as a young upstart who didn't deserve my job, but I am always polite to him. Two teachers publicly feuding would have set a bad example to the students, so he was polite enough not to say anything about me in public. My patience paid off when he retired five years ago."
"So you didn't have to deal with him anymore, then?" I said.
"True," Mom said. "I don't think your decision to avoid Asakura-san unless necessary is a bad idea, but you should try to get along with him when you do interact."
I nodded and said "I'll try," before changing the subject.
Mom and I talked for a little while, until I decided to leave and check on Higurashi-san. After riding the elevator up, I saw him waiting outside.
"Hello, Nagato-san," Higurashi-san said. "Were you talking with your mother?"
"I was," I said. "Are you done with your session already?"
Higurashi-san nodded as I walked through the elevator doors.
"So how did it go?" I said.
"It could have been worse," Higurashi-san said. "Monokuma politely accepted most of my job choices, such as a salesman like my father, and said all I had to do was find someone willing to hire me."
"I guess that's good," I said, "but while being hired isn't easy, it should be manageable for you?"
Higurashi-san sighed.
"I used to think so," Higurashi-san said, "but I've learned that self-confidence isn't enough by itself. You must appeal to other people and get them to acknowledge your talent. Azuki-san understood this, which is why she was so skeptical of me."
While I didn't have much confidence for people to tear down, I hadn't always been that way. Being shunned by other groups of friends, told that my grades were mediocre and not having a talent to fall back on had eroded my self-esteem. I'd come to understand that you had to appeal to the right people- admissions officers, hiring managers and many others- and to do so, you needed to be a person worth recognizing.
Of course, while all that was true, the same went for what Sayuri-san had said to me yesterday, so I decided to relay that advice to Higurashi-san.
"I understand where she's coming- I mean came from," I said, "but baseless or not, you need to believe in yourself in order to convince others. How could you convince someone of something that you aren't sure of yourself?"
"You can't," Higurashi-san said, "but you still need evidence to back up your claims."
"Yes, you do," I said, "which means it's a bit of a Catch-22. Your skills, accomplishments and good qualities help foster a healthy sense of self-confidence, which you need in order to achieve those. I know that better than anyone; my prospects for higher education and careers weren't very good before I got into Talent High School."
Higurashi-san was left at a loss for words.
"Despite that," I said, "there is one thing you can feel proud of about yourself. You were the first person to step forward and lead our class after my mom- our teacher- was spirited away. Not many people would go that far for the safety of people they'd only just met, so in that regard, you're better than most of them."
"Thank you, Nagato-san," Higurashi-san said. "I may not be proud of what I've achieved- or rather, failed to achieve- thus far, but I'll never forget that this was my choice. If nothing else, I have no reason to feel sorry for myself."
Higurashi-san felt a bit better, if only for the moment. Perhaps his guilt and sense of helplessness would return in the aftermath of the next trial, but for now, we needed our leader, so I was pleased that he was himself again.
I found Kirishima-san in the dining hall after his session ended, not long after 11 AM. He wasn't hungry for lunch yet, since I didn't see a plate in front of him, but he was drinking a glass of water.
"Hello, Nagato-kun," Kirishima-san said. "I recently finished with my career counseling."
"I see," I said. "Do you mind talking about it?"
Kirishima-san nodded, and I sat down.
"Monokuma had little hope that there would be much demand for geneticists in the current world," Kirishima-san said, "but while his point is well-founded, it would be foolish to give up on sciences entirely."
I nodded. I was tempted to ask "Why's that?" but I knew that he'd consider that question stupid.
"I think so, too," I said, "and I'm not surprised you'd think that, being a man of science."
"Scientists are not the only ones who came to this conclusion," Kirishima-san said. "The constant drive to learn new things and increase our understanding of the world is one that is shared by all rational beings. Perhaps the reason why Monokuma so eagerly believes that the sciences have been abandoned is that he fears what we will learn from them."
"You might be right," I said, "but I doubt any of us pose a threat to Monokuma as we are now."
"Perhaps not," Kirishima-san said, "but the fact that he does not see us as such is not necessarily a bad thing. He would most likely snuff out any individuals he saw as dangerous, likely with a staged class trial."
"Like he did with Akira-san?" I said without even thinking about it.
Kirishima-san scoffed and shook his head.
"What happened with Mihama-kun was an unfortunate accident," Kirishima-san said, "but Monokuma did not see Azuki-kun as an enemy that he had to eliminate. Rather, by playing a critical role in solving each mystery, she prolonged the killing game, weeding out the less competent blackened and ensuring that we would survive long enough to see more murders."
"Maybe she did," I said, "but because of her efforts, and because she was willing to give up her life, all of us here are still alive."
"Perhaps," Kirishima-san said, "but for how much longer?"
Kirishima-san left me to ponder a question I couldn't yet answer, as if I were chained up with shackles I couldn't break or unlock. We had lost so much in the killing game, and had gained nothing, but were Akira-san's efforts and our sacrifices in vain? I didn't think so, and hoped a day could come when I could prove it.
That afternoon, I took a walk inside the ship, and saw Kurogane-san in the warehouse.
"Oh, Kurogane-san," I said. "Are you finished with your career counseling?"
"I am," Kurogane-san said. "It was actually easier than I thought; I realized that a career as a go pro isn't a sure thing, so I've done some thinking as to what sort of alternative careers I might have. That doesn't mean I'd be sad to give up go, but at least I'm prepared."
A part of me envied my classmates, who had talents they were passionate about, but I realized that they couldn't necessarily make a living off of those passions, even in the best of times. If the social upheaval we'd heard about in the paper had happened, they would likely be forced to work in occupations dedicated to rebuilding or providing the necessities, since there would be few resources to spare on entertainment and other luxuries.
"Speaking of difficult choices," I said, "have you ever had to make a hard choice on someone you cared about?"
Kurogane-san shook his head.
"No," Kurogane-san said. "Even in Kojima-kun's case, I didn't have to act on what I'd learned about his murder attempt. It was up to Azuki-san to unravel the murder, and the rest of needed only vote for the culprit."
I wondered if Kurogane-san could simply convince himself that Tatsuki-san had murdered Kojima-san without any provocation, simply assuming that the materials left in the crime scene had belonged to Tatsuki-san, but there were more than a few holes in that theory. If that were true, Tatsuki-san wouldn't have prepared (or at least not have used) anything to protect her from the blood splatter.
"But even so," Kurogane-san said, "it was still hard. Kojima-kun betrayed us, and may not have cared for me at all, at least not in the way I did for him."
"I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "You... liked him, didn't you?"
Kurogane-san chuckled and nodded.
"It's that obvious, isn't it?" Kurogane-san said. "But anyway, I could live with the fact that he loved Azuki-san; I just hoped that he at least considered me a friend. Now, I'll have to live with that knowledge recoloring our previous interactions."
I didn't know what to say to that. At the very least, I knew that Akira-san saw me as a friend, possibly her best friend, and that she'd been willing to give her life to save rest of us, even those she hated.
"Because of that," Kurogane-san said, "I can't fault you for not voting for Azuki-san, not when I'd have had trouble doing the same for Kojima-kun. In each of the three trials, I voted for the blackened to save the rest of us, not to kill that one person, but I knew I couldn't accomplish the one without the other."
"I know," I said. "Still, I played a role in executing Yamazaki-san and Tatsuki-san- I mean Taiga-san- so it seems hypocritical of me to lose my nerve now."
"For better or worse, there's always next time," Kurogane-san said. "If there's another trial, then you can do your part for the group to make up for last time."
Assuming I wasn't the blackened, that is. Then again, the fact that Kurogane-san seemed to trust me not to kill anyone in addition to voting correctly said a lot about him, so I made sure I thanked him appropriately.
Asakura was up next, with his session at 3 PM. Higurashi-san spoke with him. I shared some of what people had told me about their sessions so far, leaving out some of the more personal details, and found that he'd heard the same thing.
"I talked with Asakura-kun," Higurashi-san said. "Unfortunately, he was somewhat evasive, but he didn't seem to mind the prospect of giving up a career in tech support."
"Thank you," I said. "I suppose that just leaves Karita-san and Kumakura-san."
A pause followed. Even though practically anything could happen in the killing game, we had little reason to believe that anything unusual would happen for the two remaining boys when the other eight sessions had been relatively uneventful.
"Anyway, I'm amazed, Higurashi-san," I said. "You manage to handle Asakura surprisingly well."
"Only barely," Higurashi-san said. "He merely tolerates me, and has never approved of me being a leader. If I had to grade my relationship with him, it would be a barely passing grade, one that would upset my parents if they found out."
"Well, it's still better than how I'm doing," I said. "I've never been good at dealing with difficult people. While most people generally tolerate me, there are some who dislike me no matter how much I apologize or try to be polite to them."
"That's just a fact of life, Nagato-san," Higurashi-san said. "You can't please everyone. Elected officials should strive to win the trust and respect of their constituents, but they must also be willing to take principled stances, even if they're unpopular."
"Fair enough," I said. "I wonder if all this time, by trying to present a meek and inoffensive façade, I ended up alienating those who might have become my friends."
Maybe Higurashi-san was the wrong person to ask, since he'd only met me after I'd come to this school. I didn't know if anyone knew what a certain other person's "true self" was like, but there were many people who could make a better educated guess about me. That didn't stop him from making his best shot, though.
'I don't know whether you're right about that," Higurashi-san said, "but I do believe this. While people put on various facades that may not represent their 'true' self, I don't think they're fake; merely facets of your personality that you choose to adopt. You're an honest and trustworthy person, and I can't think of anyone here I'd rather have as my assistant."
"Thank you, Higurashi-san," I said.
Higurashi-san said "You're welcome," and changed the subject. I didn't know whether the way I'd tried to put my best foot forward until now had been a mistake, but I was grateful for people who could accept me as I was.
After Asakura, Karita-san went next. He must have been in a hurry to get done, since I saw him relaxing on the deck 20 minutes after it had started.
"Hello, Nagato-san," Karita-san said. "I guess you're curious what a person like me has in mind for a future career?"
"I am now," I said. "What did you suggest to Monokuma?"
"A salesman," Karita-san said. "After all, if I have what it takes to trick people, then it'll be pretty easy to sell a legitimate product, right?"
I shook my head.
"I'm not so sure," I said. "Higurashi-san once mentioned that his father was a salesman, one who believed in the importance of delivering an honest sales pitch, and not making promises he couldn't keep."
"If you say so," Karita-san said, "but in the end, Higurashi-kun had to sell what the company was offering, and probably make quotas or some such. Regardless of what his personal beliefs were, the company's first priority was the bottom line."
That was a remarkably cynical view, not to mention one that troubled me. Since I didn't have much in the way of talent, principle was all I had going for me, and I knew of people who were better than I was. While Higurashi-san felt like a failure, he'd never once compromised his beliefs, so he was probably doing a better job than me.
"So you don't know for certain what being a salesman requires," I said, neglecting to mention that I didn't know much, either.
"You got me," Karita-san said, "but would you be able to tell if I showed up wearing a suit and tie, offering to sell you something you needed?"
"I honestly don't know," I said. "I guess I'd have to listen to your sales pitch and find out if anything was out of place, but even that's not 100 percent foolproof."
Karita-san grinned.
"And there you have it," Karita-san said. "You see, I actually know a little bit in a lot of things, enough to pass off as an expert if I so chose. For example, I know how to use a bow and arrows, so while I'm not nearly as good of an archer as Himemiya-san, I can at least pose as a second-year in a halfway decent archery club."
"I'm sure you can," I said. "Might it be possible you're just pretending to be the Ultimate Con Artist?"
Karita-san looked taken aback for a moment, then laughed out loud.
"What's so funny?" I said.
"The look on your face a moment ago," Karita-san said, "not to mention the fact that you'd make such a claim. The school really should have chosen you as the Ultimate Comedian; that way, I wouldn't have to listen to Asakura-kun's complaints."
"Thank you, I guess," I said, "but I don't have much of a funny bone. I never know when telling a joke will help, or when it will merely offend someone. I tried joking around to make friends, but they all fell flat."
"Maybe it was your audience," Karita-san said. "Everyone's looking for something, regardless of whether they're friends, family, business associates... you name it. If you want to appeal to someone, you have to find that need and offer it to them, even if you don't actually have what they're looking for."
I didn't know what to say, and so ended the conversation there. Maybe I had been going about socializing the wrong way all these years, or maybe I'd tried to befriend people who were unwilling to be friends with me. Or maybe Karita-san was wrong about interpersonal relationships; I didn't have enough experience to tell either way.
We ate dinner at around 6 PM, so that neither Karita-san nor Kumakura-san would have to worry about missing it to get to their counseling session. While Kumakura-san had another spicy dish, he was done eating by 6:20 p.m., even if he didn't quite clean his plate.
After dinner, I saw Himemiya-san talking with Sayuri-san on the deck. Neither one seemed to notice me, but I could hear them somewhat clearly despite being far away.
"I'll be honest, Sasaki-san," Himemiya-san said. "A part of me was jealous of you."
"How so?" Sayuri-san said, more inquisitive than offended.
"Strictly speaking, it wasn't just you," Himemiya-san said. "The same went for most of Kanae's other friends. She was free to have an equal relationship with people like you, to call you '-chan' rather than '-sama'. She didn't drop the '-sama' from my name until just before she was murdered."
Sayuri paused for a moment. I couldn't see the expression on her face, but she probably was carefully considering her response.
"I understand how you feel," Sayuri said, "but I will share two things with you. The first is that I'm not sure I would have been as close to Kanae-chan if I were in your position."
"I'm not so sure," Himemiya-san said. "You were able to befriend her within days of meeting her."
"That was because she's a nice person who's easy to get along with," Sayuri-san said, "and, more importantly, because I approached her with the assumption that we, as classmates and fellow Ultimates, were equals. If I grew up with the belief that her family was destined to serve me, then I would have treated her well, like I do with my assistants, but I might not have thought of her as a friend, per se. I think the fact that you never once thought of her as beneath you speaks volumes of your character."
Himemiya-san shrugged. This was a question of nature versus nurture, and I doubt Sayuri-san could predict how she'd have turned out if she'd grown up in the Himemiya household any more than I could have guessed what person I'd be like if Dad was still alive.
"I appreciate that," Himemiya-san said, "and what's the other part?"
"Well, it's more of a question," Sasaki-san said. "Kanae-chan called you 'Himeno' just before her death, didn't she?"
"She did," Himemiya-san said. "I suppose you're saying that in the end, the lack of an honorific is the difference between a friend and a best friend?"
"That's right," Sayuri-san said. "My friendship with Kanae-chan was less complicated than the one she shared with you, but it wasn't quite as close, either. You were her most precious person, so never forget that."
Himemiya-san seemed to be happy to hear that, since she didn't say anything in response.
"By the way," Himemiya-san said, "what makes you decide whether to call people by their first names?"
"Whether the person in question is someone I'd consider a friend," Sayuri-san said. "As long as they aren't authority figures or people I'd never get along with, I consider them good candidates. What about you?"
"I'm the same," Himemiya-san said, "and the only difference is my standards. Some people only want to get close to me to make a good impression on my father. In your case, however, that doesn't apply."
Sayuri-san paused.
"Let me put it another way," Himemiya-san said. "Is your invitation from earlier still good... Sayuri?"
"It is, Himeno-chan," Sayuri-san said. "It's never too late."
"Then I'm glad," Himemiya-san said. "I'm a bit slow to make friends, not to mention a bit choosy, since I'm not sure who's really worth the effort. The fact that you were willing to respect my wishes, make compromises and give me time, however, proves I had no reason to doubt you."
I left before they could see me, feeling bad about eavesdropping but not sure what I could or should say to them. Himemiya-san seemed surprisingly reserved, but I hoped that one day, I, too, could become closer to her.
I saw Kumakura-san sitting in the lounge around 7:15 PM. Since Monokuma was nowhere to be found, that probably meant that the career counseling had finished.
"Hello, Nagato-san," Kumakura-san said "In case you're wondering, the lounge will be open for the foreseeable future now that we're done with the counseling."
"That's good," I said. "How did yours go?"
"Better than I thought," Kumakura-san said, "since I do have a few alternatives in mind, such as kinesiology. Out of curiosity, though, do you ever imagine that one day, you'll be past your prime?"
I was taken off guard by that question for a moment. While I didn't have much confidence in my talent, I had hope that I would improve over time. The same went for my mom, who I hoped had decades ahead of her in her teaching career.
"Maybe," I said, "but I guess that's true of everyone, isn't it?"
"It is," Kumakura-san said, "but some face it sooner than others. For example, Kirishima-kun will be able to continue doing research for many years, and will continue to get better at it, while Sayaka Maizono, an up-and-coming idol singer I've heard is a good candidate for Ultimate status, will be lucky to continue through her mid twenties."
"And I suppose you're thinking about yourself, aren't you?" I said.
Kumakura-san nodded grimly.
"I am," Kumakura-san said. "Some Ultimates are chosen because as high schoolers, they've already surpassed many adults, but others are chosen because they're in their prime. I doubt this cruise will last long enough for my strength to atrophy beyond recovery, but it is depressing to know that one day, I'll have to hang up my weights."
Practically speaking, I doubted the cruise would last much longer, since Monokuma couldn't feed ten teenagers and one adult forever. But what would happen once we reached our final destination?
"You seem troubled," Kumakura-san said.
"I have a lot on my mind," I said, "particularly that I don't know what's going to happen once all this ends."
"Neither do I," Kumakura-san said.
I left Kumakura-san feeling humbled in some ways. I'd always worried about my future, realizing that there would be few career choices for a mediocre student like me, to say nothing about finding a good husband, but I'd realized I wasn't alone. My talented classmates had to come to terms with the fact that they couldn't pursue their dreams forever, and might never see their homes or families again, to say nothing of how almost everyone had lost a friend by now. None of us were fully equipped to handle a situation like this, but there had to be something I could do to help my classmates cope with the killing game.
I went to bed with more questions than usual on my mind. We'd always known that the killing game was in service of some greater purpose, even if it was too terrible to imagine, but the past few days suggested that Monokuma was preparing to show us something. The killing game had been bad enough thus far, so who knew how horrific the "climax" would be?
Of course, I was getting ahead of myself. Whatever Monokuma was planning would probably happen on the sixth island, and we had two more to go until then, including the one we were about to arrive at. If my estimations were correct, there would be two more class trials for us to get through... without the help of the one person who deserved most of the credit for our success.
Knowing that we would have a hard time ahead of us, I prayed to God to keep all of us safe, including the traitor. No matter how much we'd suffered, I had no desire to add the traitor to the list of the dead. One way or another, in this world or the next, they'd get their just deserts; the former was up to the courts and the latter was up to God, not a bunch of teenagers who had watched too many of their classmates die.
But who was the traitor? Why had they betrayed us? Did they hate us, or did they simply not feel anything for us after all this time? The answers to these questions would be difficult to find and even more difficult to accept, so I couldn't help but wonder if ignorance was bliss.
Monokuma Theater
They say it's a good idea to leave some room for reader interpretation. Well, I've got an idea.
You shouldn't tell everyone what the ending to your story is; let the readers decide it for themselves.
The same goes for the middle of the story, too. After the story is set up and the cast is introduced, the readers should decide what happens to the characters from there.
Hell, even the beginning isn't an exception, either. If it's all up to the readers, they can come up with infinite numbers of story.
Here's your lesson, kids- rather than listen to other people's stories, come up with your own.
Author's Notes
So begins Chiyuri's arc, as well as the "educational" half of the cruise. Since Chiyuri has severe self-worth issues, she'll probably be the angstiest of the protagonists in this series. Unlike Shuichi from V3, she hasn't had a chance to do nearly as much before the previous protagonist stepped aside, so she has less faith in her own abilities.
This chapter took a while to write, partly because Himemiya was originally going to be significantly angrier about Chyuri's refusal to vote for Azuki, going so far as to slap her in the original version. While Himemiya was originally a ruder and blunter individual, I decided this level of conflict was out of character for the kinder and less temperamental final version of her, and so toned down her reaction. Similarly, a conversation between Nagato and Tatsuki about how Himemiya only gives the people she likes a hard time was cut out, since this version of Himemiya isn't nearly as abrasive as her original self. Without spoiling too much, Himemiya plays a relatively significant role in this Chapter (but I won't say whether she's a killer, a victim or a survivor).
Another thing that I changed around was that some of the scenes, such as the one in the laundry room, were originally going to be in the morning of the next day, rather than the afternoon and evening just after the trial. Partly as a result of this, this installment ended up covering three and a half days, rather than three.
The next installment will show the fourth island, and while it should come out more quickly than this one, it may not be a while, since I'm still doing Chiyuri's Free Time Events. I've done six so far- Azuki, Chiyuri's mother, Karita, Taiga, Tsukimura and Sasaki- so that leaves ten to go.
I'm interested in hearing your theories on who the traitor might be, and whether they're still alive. Of course, as you can probably guess, the theory about the "killing school cruise" being the result of a conspiracy by Talent High School is obviously untrue.
Let me know if you figure out the answer for the cryptogram in the Monokuma Theater for Day 20. If it's too hard, just fill yourself with determination and you'll get it.
Incidentally, I know Despair's Last Resort and Danganronpa 3 had Haruhi shout-outs in the titles, but I decided that this one was too good to pass up. I had another possible title in mind, but I thought it might end up being a spoiler for the motive.