See No Evil
There was already a crowd when he arrived.
This was ridiculous. How did these idiots expect anyone to pass when they were choking the way forward with their bodies? Togami rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers; he was even kind enough to include a small flicking gesture afterwards for the more dimwitted among them. Anything for the purpose of letting them know that they should get out of his way.
"You," Togami sneered at the portly cook, "where is she?"
At his question, he was met with confused blinking. Well, he couldn't fault them for that. Fukawa could be as slimy as a slug, and just as easily overlooked. Why, there had been multiple times during school where she had managed to follow him without his notice. (Not that he had been in any danger – that's what paid bodyguards were for!)
"If you haven't seen Fukawa, why are you all here?" Togami snapped. "Do commoners always feel the need to collect in large groups?"
Koizumi answered, "We heard something."
Several of them looked uneasily at Komaeda's cabin. It was as he suspected, then.
He, too, ended up hearing something as he reached for Komaeda's doorknob. Unlike what they had likely heard, however, this sound came from outside the cabin. It had come from above. He leaned back and looked. Peeking over the edge of the roof was a leering Genocider Syo.
"Master!" Syo squealed and leapt off the roof, somersaulting three times before touching down behind him like a ballerina. Her serpentine tongue feinted at his shoulder. The world seemed to slow as her tongue unwound. The very tip of it brushed the lip of his collar. . .
"This is imported from Persia!" Togami yelped. He would have slapped the offending appendage away, but touching it would be disgusting. "How dare you? Do you have any idea how much this is worth?"
"I'm sorry, Master, I couldn't help it!" Syo said, while sounding not sorry at all. "I'm too excited to hold myself back, if you know what I mean."
Yes. He did.
He spun around, squared his shoulders, and ordered everyone else to stand back. Nevermind and Syo alone ignored his command; once-queen looked insulted by the thought of being directed like a dog. Or, perhaps she wasn't offended. Perhaps instead, she, too, suspected what lay behind the door and was eager to be part of the first-hand discovery.
He wasn't going to waste time making her listen. Togami turned his back on Nevermind without a second thought and opened the door to Komaeda's cabin. He was immediately assaulted by a sharp, almost spicy stench. It collected under his tongue, like Syo had poured blood directly into his mouth.
"It's different seeing the real thing, isn't it?" Syo purred into his ear. "You can string up all the pretty boys you want, but it's still an imitation."
Loathe as he was to admit it, Syo was right. Owada's blow, as lethal as it had been, hadn't produced much blood. Syo, however. . . This scene was more like something left behind by Ultimate Despair than any of the murders his classmates had committed.
Komaeda was against the wall, pinned in place by scissors through each hand. Blood covered his palms and trailed down his wrists in a still-glistening puddle. There was just enough space between him and the wall that spray had stained the wallpaper, turning it from a faded white to rose red. He still had clothes, including that green hoodie so like the one Naegi had abandoned during his captivity. However, the multiple bloodstains ensured nobody would ever wear these clothes again. There were big, jagged tears through Komaeda's undershirt, too, that didn't always correspond with a wound – and Togami knew which ones had wounds because the damn shirt had been white.
Komaeda, head drooping, hung just high enough that his toes couldn't quite reach the ground. It looked painful, and the holes in his hands seemed stretched somehow, as if the scissors were slowly sawing their way through. Although Syo hadn't seen it fit to scar his face, there was still a scattered line of blood drops on his cheeks that must have flung off her scissors when she tore up his flesh.
"So, whaddya think?" Syo asked eagerly, vibrating in place like a puppy waiting for a treat. "Is it everything you dreamed of?"
"You forgot something. Blood fever. Where is it?" He wasn't sure why of all thing he said that, let alone why he noticed that, but he wasn't wrong. The walls were suspiciously clean of writing.
Syo rolled her eyes. "Well, sure, there was no need for me to do everything."
There was an odd cadence in her tone that made him look closer.
". . . He's alive," Togami whispered. It was faint, but that chest was slowly rising and falling.
"Course he is," Syo said. Her scissors snapped twice. "I'm not about to stain my spotless record with a scrawny rat like him. Us Ultimates got our pride."
Komaeda was alive. But, Togami considered as he watched a fresh drop of blood rolling down Komaeda's forearm, he wasn't going to stay that way if he was left up there. Shame. She should have completed the job. With a heavy sigh, he pushed Syo aside and walked outside where the rest of that worm's class was waiting.
Or not the rest. Just most of them, apparently. He checked once more to ensure his observation was correct, and then barked, "Where's your nurse?"
"If she ain't here, she's probably at the hospital," Soda said to general agreement.
"Then go get her, you imbecile," Togami sneered. Where would these people be without him?
"How dare you speak to him like that?" Nevermind tutted. "Soda-kun is only trying to be of assistance. . ."
He ignored her. "When I gave that command, I wasn't telling you to get her when you feel like it. I meant now."
Soda recoiled; his body tried to withdraw into that baggy excuse for pants like a turtle into his shell. Perhaps there was some for his peasant if he so easily understood who was in charge. Now, having demonstrated the proper submission, Soda began to obey . . .
"Stop!"
That word sliced through the air with a physical weight. It slammed into Soda and winded him, causing his knees to freeze mid-bend. The speaker of that word did not hesitate, did not allow her intensity to wane. From the gate, she charged toward them, and Togami could easily imagine a cape billowing behind her like a superheroine. When Pekoyama did stop, it was in the middle of the boardwalk they needed to cross to leave.
"So, you've decided to join me," Togami said. "That wasn't necessary. I have this completely under control. Now, if your friend here would stop gawking and go to the hospital as I instructed. . ."
"No," Pekoyama said – not to him obviously, but to Soda when he started to move again. "There's no need."
"Do you even bother to think before you speak? Do you know what's in there?" Togami asked, referring to Komaeda's cabin. His question stirred curious murmurs from the crowd.
"I do," Pekoyama said.
"Then you're an idiot," he said. "We need your nurse, or that walking atrocity that Hope's Peak thought was a person."
"No, we don't. We don't need to do anything."
"He is going to –"
And that was the point. His eyes widened as he understood what Pekoyama was telling him. He quickly glanced around. Kamukura didn't appear to be around. Either he had once again been caught off-guard by something Naegi had initiated, or he, too, preferred inaction.
"You're right: we don't," he said.
"Hey, what the fuck is going on?" Kuzuryu barked from the crowd. "You ladies planning on telling us anytime soon?"
Togami smirked. "I'll leave that up to your servant. This no longer is an issue I need to concern myself with."
With Syo happily following in his wake, Togami strolled down the boardwalk, parting the crowd before him like water. Their leisurely stroll was interrupted by a hand snagging the bottom of Syo's skirt.
"I'm terribly sorry to impose, but would you be able to spare an autograph for this adoring fan?" a blushing Hanamura asked Syo.
"Sure thing, Hammy!" Against all common sense, Syo seized Hanamura's apron and began writing with the blood on her scissors. Hanamura quivered with delight.
". . . Is that blood?" Nidai asked as the words in Genocider Syo's name took shape.
Nobody answered him, but Kuzuryu automatically knew what it meant. The diminutive would-be gangster fought his way through everyone else and then ran up to the slightly ajar door to Komaeda's cabin. His single-syllable reaction rang loud.
Unlike an ordinary person, Kuzuryu was not sickened as he staggered away from Komaeda's cabin. If anything, the red tint to his cheeks said he was flustered, as if embarrassed an apparent hit had occurred without his permission.
"I thought you had her under control," Kuzuryu said to him. Togami sneered to force himself not to snarl. The nerve of that has-been!
"Are you saying that the infamous Genocider Syo has resumed her activities in that very room?" Nevermind sounded torn between dismay over the possible danger to her classmates, and a glee that could only belong to a rabid fan.
"And she couldn't have chosen a more deserving target," Togami said.
"Yeah, yeah. No one's debating that." Kuzuryu nodded at Soda. "Look, do what he said and get Tsumiki. If we're fast enough, maybe we don't need Kamukura. I don't want him in our hair if we can avoid it."
"Wait!" Koizumi said. "Is Komaeda. . .?"
Syo cackled, and that was the answer everyone needed.
Surprisingly, some of Komaeda's classmates looked upset. Soda was among them, and he once again made a push to leave. But as she had before, Pekoyama stood in his way. This time, she pushed back, too.
"Stop," the servant said to her master. "Leave it be."
"Take a look inside, Peko," Kuzuryu said. "Komaeda can't walk this one off."
Her jaw tightened. "That's none of our concern."
Soda scratched his head. "But isn't he going to, you know, if he doesn't see a doctor? That's the impression I'm getting."
"He deserves it."
Finally, they understood. It dawned on them inch by glorious inch, and Togami took pleasure in it. Some of them were weak - but they were people he had already pegged as such. The stronger maintained more neutral gazes, but none came close to the grim acceptance Pekoyama used as her face.
"Whoa," Saionji said. The word dropped like an anvil. "What did that freak do to you?"
"Hey, let's slow down here," Nidai said. He had his hands raised just above shoulder height. "No need to rush to the goal before we discuss a strategy."
"This is our strategy," Pekoyama snapped. "We let fate take its course and rid ourselves of the greatest threat on the island."
Togami almost laughed. He, of course, would rather be rid of all of them, but Komaeda was an acceptable consolation prize. And unlike before, Kirigiri couldn't shriek at him for this. This was entirely the doing of Komaeda's so-called partners.
"We can't do that!" Nidai said back. "He's one of us."
"No. He never was," Pekoyama said. "He was always an outsider."
Nidai exhaled. He visibly fumbled over his words. "I know he's difficult to work with, but. . ."
Nidai trailed off. To Togami's vast amusement, the hulking man looked to him. Really? The Ultimate Coach wanted his help? While he appreciated the sentiment, that moron should have realized help wasn't coming.
Togami thought over each word he would say carefully, savouring how it sounded in his head. Speaking them aloud was almost as satisfying: "I have no part in this."
"What does that mean?" A brief flame flickered in Nidai's eyes. "You're the head of this organization!"
"My responsibility is to make sure you don't go off and slaughter half the continent. Your internal relations are none of my concern. In fact, I have no further business here."
He turned away. They wouldn't dare stop him. Even if they were foolish enough to, he had an amped-up serial killer in his shadow.
"You did well," he told Syo.
"Y-you. . .? Oh, Master!"
He chuckled. This was the first time he had seen Syo come close to fainting. It didn't even bother him that she was hanging off his arm now. No matter what choice that Class 77 made, he was sure it would be to his benefit.
There were nine potential threats between her and her enemy. But how many of them were willing to stand against her for the sake of that rat? Komaeda wasn't needed. He wasn't wanted. It was time to put the bullet in the dog's brain.
But she knew Nidai would fight her. He had always been soft-hearted. He should have known better by now – he should have known that was a weakness. Enoshima had seen it and oh, how she had used that weak heart against him. Loyalty wasn't meant to be given to everyone that fell within your grasp; the world had too many turncoats, and what would you do when it came time to choose between them?
"You don't want to do this," Nidai said to her.
She studied him, starting with his feet and ending at the neck. Her speciality was with weapons, but the Family had foreseen the possibility that she could be without and trained her accordingly. Nidai was larger and heavier with the body of an Ultimate that specialized in physicality. He had the pure bulk to defeat any ordinary person in battle, but she was nowhere near ordinary.
"Hey! What are you doing?" Kuzuryu's demand cut through her thoughts. As always, he had been the first to recognize her battle stance.
"What needs to be done." As she spoke, she continued to evaluate the situation. Apart from Nidai, Kamukura and Owari were the classmate that could challenge. But Kamukura wasn't here, and Owari was islands away in the hospital. . .
Kamukura wasn't here. Or if he was, he wasn't interfering. And he wasn't interfering even though he had gone out of his way to save Owari's life. If even Kamukura saw it fit to let things take their course . . .
Then Komaeda was getting what he deserved.
"So, I don't like the guy either," Soda said hesitantly. "He's weird and creepy, and it's his fault I got hit by a truck. . . But we always got better afterwards."
Her heart burned like ice. How was it possible that a mechanical genius couldn't grasp the bigger picture?
"Have you spoken to Naegi-kun lately? Have you even seen him since we got off that ship?" she yelled. "He is not fine. Everyone knows it. And it's because of what he did!"
Although she was glowering at Soda and Nidai, she still noticed the pinch in the Young Master's face. He must also be discomforted by Naegi's state.
"Peko, what are you doing?" Kuzuryu asked.
That was obvious, wasn't it? Unsure what he was asking of her, she chose to ignore the question and refocused her attention on the rest of them.
"We all know he isn't right," she said hoarsely. "He was hurt within our care, and Komaeda is responsible for that."
"I will not deny that Komaeda-kun was awful with him, but do his actions truly deserve this?" Nevermind asked.
Saionji shrugged. "If a mosquito bites you, you're supposed to squash it."
Pekoyama gave her an approving lift of the chin and added, "If you had been with me twenty minutes ago and heard the story that came out of Naegi-kun's mouth, you would have been begging to borrow Genocider's scissors."
"Komaeda didn't mean to hurt him," the Imposter said. "As much as we abhorred it, Komaeda was trying to build towards his vision of hope."
"If he thought he was doing the right thing, wouldn't that make him more dangerous?" Pekoyama asked. She shifted her gaze downward and forced her fists to loosen; she had unconsciously clenched them so tightly and for so long that they ached. "Regardless, that isn't true. There is no justification for what Komaeda did to Naegi-kun unless he wanted to hurt him."
"What did he do?" Mioda wondered aloud. "Ibuki didn't miss that part, did she?"
Pekoyama explained as best as she could. If Naegi's telling had been confusing and jumbled, hers was no better. It was impossible to describe the churning, rolling waves of nausea she felt hearing his story, or her memory of a child clinging to an echo of sanity.
The silence was suffocating. Even the birds had stopped singing.
"What. . . What did you do?" Nevermind immediately turned to the three performers in their group.
"Yuck! You think I would muck around with old bodies?" Saionji said, crinkling her nose. "They're gross enough when they're fresh, I don't need to see them when they're all wrinkled and grey."
"Um, that kind of decorating isn't what Ibuki does." Mioda pressed her index fingers together in what must have been a nervous tick.
Nevermind turned her attention to the last one.
". . . He never said that was what he wanted the masks for," the Imposter muttered.
"That doesn't matter!" Pekoyama said. "It doesn't matter who helped Komaeda disguise the bodies. What matters is what he did with them!"
"I don't understand why." Koizumi squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. "Why would he do something like that?"
"Because he's a monster. He doesn't deserve our help," Pekoyama said. She glared at Nidai. "And I am willing to see that through."
"Peko!" Kuzuryu choked. She kept her eyes on Nidai, but opened her ears for anything else Kuzuryu would say. When he didn't speak, she tuned him out again.
Nidai stepped forward. "I can't stand by and let you. . ."
"You stood by and let him hurt Naegi-kun," Pekoyama said. "Don't forget what you would have let Enoshima do to him."
It was the first time she had brought that up since their initial confrontation months ago. Nidai's eyes widened. His weight shifted back, as if afraid.
While Pekoyama had watched her class for any emerging threats, she had ignored the person moving towards – she knew he wasn't dangerous to her. Even when Kuzuryu approached her, she hardly bothered to glance this way. When he slipped past her, however, her curiosity was peaked enough to ask, "Ma. . . Fuyuhiko-kun, where are you going?"
He stopped. Spine slouched, he said quietly, "I'm going to get Tsumiki."
Had she missed something? She squinted and studied the weary lines in his face; still, she didn't understand.
"What are you doing?" she asked him.
His shoulders tightened. "We can't . . . I'm getting help."
"Why would you do that?" she bellowed. A younger her would have turned on herself for speaking to him like this, but it couldn't be helped. She didn't understand. Kuzuryu was not an irrational person, and the proper course of action was so obvious. "I know you care about Naegi-kun. How can you allow Komaeda –?"
"It wasn't just him!" Kuzuryu shouted at her. "I know Komaeda is a piece of shit, but he isn't the only reason Naegi's like this. It's our fault, too!"
Ours? Then he, too, blamed her for failing. But she could redeem herself. She could make it right.
He flinched as he looked at her and muttered, "It's not your fault. You were just doing what I told you to. But, fuck, we can't blame everything on Komaeda. Don't you remember why Naegi ran away?"
"He always wanted to go home," Pekoyama said. "It was inevitable he would run."
"He wanted to go home," Kuzuryu repeated. "Are you listening to yourself? Komaeda fucked him up; I fucked him up; they fucked him up."
He pointed past her at the rest of her classmates and perhaps, even further beyond to where Tsumiki and Owari went about their lives obliviously in the hospital.
"Now wait one hot minute," Hanamura said. "You might have butchered a bear, but I never. . ."
"He wanted to go home," Kuzuryu said again. "And guess who was the reason he couldn't? Look, we can't keep blaming Komaeda for everything. It's not fair to us, it's not fair to Naegi and you know what else? It's not fair to all the people out there that we did even worse to."
"I am not going to stand by and watch you spare him," Pekoyama said. "If doing nothing isn't an option, then I am going to take action."
"No, you're not!"
As Pekoyama began to move, to close the distance between her and her prey, Kuzuryu grabbed her wrist. He was smaller in both height and frame, but instinct made her freeze as if those were a tiger's claws digging into her skin. She breathed. There was a buzzing in her head that seemed to crawl through her bones until she couldn't stay silent.
"You won't stop me," she told Kuzuryu. The vow thrummed in her chest. She meant it.
Then the vibrations in her chest became pain as arms like iron bands wrapped around her. She didn't know when she had forgotten Nidai was behind her, but somewhere along the way, the Young Master had consumed her entire world.
"Stay. . . down!" the huge man growled at her. His knees buckled as he transferred his weight to her. Her bones quivered. She could lift him on a regular day. But it wasn't just his dead weight that pressed against her back, but also the pressure from his attempt to force his will on her. Maybe if she shifted. . . if she had an arm free and he a kidney exposed. . .
And then everything was black and something soft was scratching her eyes and she couldn't breathe –
When she came to, her head was fuzzy from lack of oxygen. Yet her throat didn't feel damaged. She tried to touch it, but something held her arm in place. A movement in front caught her attention: a grim-faced Tanaka was slowly gathering his scarf up. He, looking strangely hesitant, looked to the side. She watched him for a few seconds before it occurred to her to follow his gaze.
Her Young Master was there. Nevermind was, too, but the queen stood a little behind him, submitting to his authority. Kuzuryu looked down at her with the face of his father, and she trembled.
"Tie her arms," he said to Tanaka. "Peko doesn't give up easy."
Tanaka unwound the scarf. He wouldn't. He. . . the Young Master must mean to humiliate her!
Yet she didn't see scorn in his eyes when he looked at her.
"Why?" she pleaded.
He bowed his head.
"You know, you always thought I didn't belong," Kuzuryu whispered. "Not with Despair, not with the Yakuza. I heard what you said when you thought I wasn't there. You thought I was a good person inside; that I wasn't built for the life my parents lived.
"And you know what? I think you might be right. I'm so tired of this shit. So, for once in my life. . . I'm going to prove you were right."
