Monsters I've Met

Surprisingly, Naegi neither crumbled nor flew into a rage. He didn't flinch. He simply sat there as if waiting for Komaeda to finish a sentence. The silence grew longer and longer and although Komaeda knew he was right, doubt still began to seep in. His face heated up with embarrassment. Say something! the silence begged. But even as it pleaded for his cooperation, it had an ironclad grip that kept his jaw tightly shut.

Naegi sighed and rubbed his brow. His tongue clicked as he shook his head. "It's like you're challenging yourself to be more absurd with each claim. Are you going to accuse Tanaka-kun's hamsters of being in despair next?"

"Give it up, Naegi-kun," Komaeda said. "It's over."

"You don't get to say that." There was a bite in his tone, but Naegi still managed to sound casual. "You threw this accusation out there without any proof. You don't get to act like it's proven. You need something called evidence, which you should know all about after . . ."

"That's enough."

He swore Naegi's ears perked up like a dog. Eagerly, Naegi turned to Pekoyama, who had so far been unexpectedly reluctant to join his defense. But as Naegi evaluated the situation, his face fell; for Pekoyama stood there not with her warrior pride and proud stance, but with shame and heavy sorrow.

"There's no more denying it." To the larger crowd, Pekoyama announced, "Komaeda's right. About everything."

"Pekoyama-san . . ."

"No, Naegi-kun, I won't let this go on any longer. I had hoped you would be able to shake this off as you had the last time." She bit down on her lower lip. "I never thought you would take things this far."

"Shake what off?" Kuzuryu demanded. He started to reach for Pekoyama, but his hand stalled. "You don't mean . . . You can't be serious. You're saying Naegi really is. . . ?"

"It's true," she said quietly. "I've seen proof. Naegi-kun himself informed me of his desire to harm Kamukura-kun. And. . . and he tried to command me to kill Komaeda-kun."

"You did what?" The rage Kuzuryu had been suppressing burst out of him and Tsumiki hurriedly put herself between him and Naegi. "How dare you? After all the bullshit – !"

"This isn't the time," Pekoyama snapped. Kuzuryu pulled back like a whipped dog. "Naegi-kun, please, tell them the truth."

Naegi made no move to step out of Tsumiki's shadow. "So, you're betraying me again."

"This isn't betrayal." She spoke with a degree of desperation that must have pained Kuzuryu. "Do you remember what you once told me? True betrayal is to support someone unconditionally when you know they're not in their right mind. A true friend stands against you when you are leading yourself to harm."

"And when you walked away as Kamukura dragged me back, that was protecting me from myself?" Naegi scoffed. It was a virulent, hateful sound that made even Tsumiki uncomfortable. "Right. You forgot about that, didn't you? I guess it wouldn't have been very memorable for you. You weren't the one hurt. You know, you're a lot like Komaeda. I only matter when you can use me to feel better about yourself."

They all heard Pekoyama gasp. Her hands shook as she apologized, but Naegi merely laughed at her anguish. Drool dripped down his chin. His eyes opened with swirls that terrified Komaeda, even though he had seen them before.

"You're sorry?" Naegi jeered. He staggered toward Pekoyama like a drunk. "Isn't it great that two words can just wipe away the past? Wow, suddenly my broken arm doesn't hurt anymore because the guy who broke it said he's sorry."

"Quit talking to her like that!" Kuzuryu stepped between her and Naegi. He cautiously watched Naegi and his swirling eyes. "I'm letting this go because I know you're stressed out, but . . ."

"What do you care? Two months ago, you were telling her to sleep on the floor like a dog!"

Just as Pekoyama had, Kuzuryu froze. Like she had, he trembled. "I-I was sick."

"Komaeda's sick too. I hear he's been sick for a long time," Naegi said dreamily. The swirls faded away. Yet his tone still became sharper, his glare hotter. "Is that why you never helped me? Is there a rule that sick people can do whatever they want, or is that a special rule only Ultimate Despair has?"

"I didn't know!" Kuzuryu said. "Just like I don't know what the hell you're talking about with Peko and Kamukura. Do you think I would have let all this bullshit with Komaeda fly if I had known . . .?"

"How could you not know? A computer program that knew me for less than a month knew after spending a day with me. Kirigiri-san figured it out in one phone call. You guys were always there. Every day, every moment of my life, you were watching me. None of you cared. Especially you!"

With that last statement, Naegi completely turned his back on Kuzuryu to shout at Kamukura, who slowly lifted his gaze to meet his. Naegi stomped forward. Kamukura recoiled at each step like they were physical blows.

"You knew. Maybe the others can say they were too stupid to figure it out, but you can't. You told me at the very beginning how awful it was going to be. And you stood there and watched and did NOTHING! So why wouldn't I kill you?"

Spit flew from his mouth. It landed on Kamukura's shoe; he made no attempt to avoid it.

"Makoto, you admit to it?" Nevermind asked. Her voice was hushed, frightened. Like a girl who had just realized the man walking her home was the serial killer that had been haunting the news.

Naegi didn't look at her. He didn't move at all. His voice seemed to spawn from the heavens. "What is one life in the preservation of Hope? How could you look down on me after the millions of lives you took away?"

Colour faded from Nevermind's face as she unconsciously scratched at Enoshima's transplanted hand.

"Th-that doesn't make it right!" Koizumi cried out. "You can't murder –"

"Murder? No, no, no, no. This isn't murder." Naegi turned on the spot and curtsied with his arms out like a showman. The swirls were back, glowing like suns. "This is self-defense. I'm defanging the wolf before I let it mingle with the cattle."

"This is way more than defanging," Koizumi argued.

"But is it worse than a slow death by being locked up to waste away?" Naegi asked. "I'm giving you way more mercy than you deserve."

There was a timbre to that statement that let everyone know Naegi wasn't just talking about Kamukura. Koizumi appeared taken aback, but she recovered quickly enough to say, "Me? I didn't . . ."

"Don't." Naegi said that calmly and it slashed through Koizumi's unfinished sentence like a knife. "You don't have the high ground. You were there, so you were part of it."

So was I. The words settled around Komaeda's throat like a weighted chain. Naegi waited a little more to see if Koizumi would say anything else. When she didn't, he turned his attention back to Kamukura.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" he asked. The swirls were gone again.

And Kamukura did say something. But he did so with a voice so small, so broken that it couldn't be him. "I'm sorry."

Strangely, Naegi didn't go off on him like he had on Pekoyama. Instead, he nodded like it was a perfectly acceptable answer. "Okay. You're right; it wouldn't be fair to single you out for doing nothing when everyone else is just as guilty."

Kuzuryu started. "That's not true–"

"Then what did you do?"

Kuzuryu was silent. Komaeda wasn't surprised. Because if everyone were to be honest, Kuzuryu had been one of the main architects behind Naegi's hell.

Apart from myself, of course.

"I-I. . ." Tsumiki timidly tugged on Naegi's sleeve. "I tried. . ."

Naegi dismissed her with a wave. "I know. You're fine."

Ren swallowed. "Naegi-kun, you're. . ."

Insane. It was the truth, but that didn't make it any easier to say. The unspoken word hung over them like a heavy smog. Naegi sensed it too, but he found pride in it.

"I'm sick," Naegi chirped. "Don't worry. That means you can sit back and do nothing, remember? Just like you always do."

"Hey, you don't need to keep talking like that," Nidai said.

"Why not? Are you going to do something if I don't?" He smiled pleasantly at them. It was an awful thing. "No, you'll listen and do nothing. You always do. Even after I bled my heart out to you, you're doing nothing. Why won't anyone do something?"

Naegi's scream slowly faded, leaving their ears ringing. Komaeda could still hear the accusation, the plead. But even if he knew what to do, he wasn't sure he could move.

But someone could. Someone did. It took everyone a while to realize it because Kamukura was naturally silent. They tracked Kamukura as he slowly walked up to the forgotten, blood-stained wood and picked it up. He studied it, then tossed it to Naegi who caught it by the safe end. Naegi blinked, confused. As they all were.

Seconds passed and the wood didn't explode or do anything magical. Komaeda looked questioningly at Kamukura.

Kamukura, who was walking straight at him.

There was no conscious decision to run. Komaeda's body made the decision without his input, but it didn't matter; Kamukura was faster. Fingers closed around his neck like a lion's teeth and hauled him onto his tippytoes.

"K-Kamukura-kun!" he gasped.

Komaeda was taller than Kamukura, which meant nothing was hidden. Especially not the slow-moving swirls. But it wasn't possible. Kamukura couldn't feel that kind of emotion. He was physically incapable –

"I understand. This is what you want, isn't it? This is the penitence you require." Kamukura said. Not to Komaeda. To Naegi. "Then come. . . Let this be mine."

Kamukura wrenched Komaeda's arms behind his back. As Komaeda dangled there, defenseless, he had a front-row seat to watch a hollow, jagged smile spread over Kamukura's face.

". . . Let's kill him together."

Everyone stood in horrified silence as they absorbed the impossible words that Kamukura had spoken.

Naegi drunkenly stalked forward.

"Hey, hey!" Kuzuryu broke from the group and ran forward, narrowly evading Pekoyama's grab for him. He stepped in front of Naegi, arms out to block him. "Put that down!"

"No," Naegi said. He looked past Kuzuryu to his prey. Pekoyama looked desperately between the two, rightfully afraid she would trigger something if she tried to get closer.

Kuzuryu said, "Naegi, stop! You can't do this."

"Why not?" Naegi asked. "It's his fault. He's the reason for everything. If Kamukura deserves it, then Komaeda does twice as much."

"I know he's a bastard, but he's not responsible for every evil in the world. You can't kill him. You can't kill. Not you," Kuzuryu said desperately.

"He's responsible for everything that happened to me."

"No! No, he isn't!" Every word seemed to cause Kuzuryu pain; every syllable seemed to require more energy than the one before. "We're all responsible, just like you said. Komaeda's the shithead that kidnapped you and I get you're pissed off, but he's not at fault for everything. Tsumiki's the one who nearly got us to kill you all when we met, the Future Foundation's the one who tried to kill you, I'm the one who killed the bear, and . . ."

"Wait." Naegi's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about? Kuma was shot by a Future Foundation sniper."

Kuzuryu took a deep, steadying breath. "No. It wasn't the Future Foundation."

"You were there. I saw you. You didn't have a gun."

"I didn't shoot him, but. . . I gave the order."

Naegi stared. It was somehow more painful than any tears he could have shed.

"She was right," Naegi said softly. "Kirigiri-san was right. But . . . why?"

Kuzuryu had been reaching out for his shoulder, but stopped. For a moment, he seemed just as haunted as Naegi. "I. . . I don't know."

Naegi blinked rapidly. His cool began to break, and he ducked his head to hide it.

Kuzuryu had begun to pull his hand back, but in a split second, changed his mind and reached out again. "Hey, Naegi. Look, I –"

What followed next was a string of expletives. Pekoyama shrieked his name – his given name. Kuzuryu stumbled back, hands pressed over his stomach. However, he hadn't been fast enough to stop the first wave of blood from pouring through the gash in his clothing. Naegi stood there without a trace of a sorrow. The moonlight seemed to reflect off him oddly, like he was an executioner clad in plate armour.

"Then you should die too," Naegi told him coldly.

Pekoyama was pounding across the grass, but Naegi was already there. Komaeda could see it; she wouldn't be fast enough. She couldn't stop Naegi from drawing back his arm. She couldn't stop him from bringing it up and swinging. But a different blur crashed into Kuzuryu, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Kuzuryu cried out in pain as an unfortunate elbow plunged into his abdomen and another gush of blood pulsed through his fingers. But that remained his only wound, and he was still alive as Tsumiki scrambled off him and onto her knees.

"M-Makoto, wait!"

"Mikan?" Naegi, shocked, took several steps back. "You heard him, didn't you?"

"I did, and I know it was cruel, but. . . B-but what Komaeda did is so much worse!" she said. Still on her knees, she shuffled toward Naegi. Behind her, Pekoyama dropped to Kuzuryu's side and removed her tie so she could press it against his wound. "Kuzuryu-kun's not as awful as him. Maybe he shouldn't have the same punishment. . . C-can we think about it first?"

Ah, so it's only me she wants dead, Komaeda thought. He wasn't upset about it. It was perfectly logical. In fact, he was thankful for it, because she had managed to stand up to Naegi before he had crossed a line he couldn't take back.

As Tsumiki pleaded on her knees, Naegi was quiet. His jaw twitched.

Then his face contorted with utter rage.

This time, Pekoyama was fast enough. She slammed into Naegi's waist, bringing him to the ground. As she pinned him there and disarmed him, Tsumiki raised a shaking hand to touch her cheek. A single bead of blood jumped from her cheek to her finger.

"Get off me!" Naegi howled. "Get off, get off, get off!"

Komaeda was thrown to the ground as Kamukura instinctively moved to Naegi's aid. The sheer pressure of his presence frightened Pekoyama enough that Naegi was able to squirm free. He retreated a safe distance and glared.

"Makoto, you. . ." Given how much her voice was shaking, it wasn't surprising that Tsumiki couldn't finish her sentence.

"It's true," Ren said.

Naegi said nothing. There was no point. There could be no denying anything anymore. Not when everyone had just watched him try to kill two of their own.

"Oh my god. . ." Koizumi said through the hand she had clamped over her mouth. Tears sparkled in her eyes.

"You're shocked. Are you kidding?" Naegi shouted. "Haven't you heard? The whole world wants you dead. That's what happens when you kill everyone you can and torture the rest. People get mad!"

He threw his hands up and paced back and forth like an irritated panther. Kamukura was within reach, but Naegi ignored him. Tsumiki, glassy-eyed, still cradled her scratched cheek. Meanwhile, Pekoyama crawled backwards until she was close enough to resume putting pressure on Kuzuryu's stomach.

"They were right about you. They were right this entire time," Naegi muttered.

Someone just had to ask who.

"Everyone!" Naegi bellowed. "My friends, the Future Foundation – they were all right. You're nothing but Despair. All of this was a mistake; you'll never be anything but trash!"

Nevermind, perhaps the bravest of them all, tried to get closer and intervene. "Makoto, please -!"

"Shut up, shut up!" He didn't need Kamukura's support to drive Nevermind off; he did it all by himself. "You deserve it. You deserve everything they want to do to you! None of you deserve to live!"

Komaeda bore Naegi's attack with ease. It wasn't his first time hearing the sentiment from Naegi, and it wasn't that long ago that Komaeda had secretly thought the same way. Never had anyone else in his class faced such an assault, though, and so, it struck deep. Nidai and Tanaka had both moved to shield weaker classmates behind them; Nevermind clung to Tanaka's arm; Kamukura looked like he wasn't breathing. Pekoyama still had her hands on the tie stanching Kuzuryu's wound, but there was little pressure being applied. She had locked onto Naegi, ready to lay down her life in defense of her master.

Weeping, Tsumiki called out to him one more time.

"Shut up!" He screamed that in response to Tsumiki, but Komaeda wasn't sure if Naegi actually knew she was there. "You all deserve it! I hate you! I hate you I HATE YOU IHATEYOUIHATEYOUIHATEYOU! I'LL KILL EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!"

"Makoto!"

Grinning, foam bubbling on his lower lip, Naegi snapped towards the voice, wound up for a vicious punch. . . and hesitated. That hesitation was enough for his sister to be completely oblivious to the danger and slam into him. They staggered back together, Naegi making muffled complaints as his face was pressed into her shoulder.

"K-Komaru! Get off!" he whined. It was the exact same tone any annoyed brother would use with their kid sister.

"No!" she cried. She had one hand around the back of his head; the other pressed into the small of his back. "I won't. I'm here, okay?"

Naegi had held his arms out and away from Komaru, as if his hands were lined with deadly knives. As he failed to break out of his sister's hold, his arms slowly contracted until his hands rested on her shoulder blades. He turned his face up. His chin settled on her shoulder. His vacant eyes reflected stars and stared through the rest of his arriving classmates.

Komaru whispered something only he could hear. Naegi didn't respond. But slowly, every so slowly, his face scrunched up. A low keening came from his chest. As it grew into a wail, he turned his face back into Komaru's shoulder and squeezed handfuls of her shirt so tightly that his entire body shook.

He screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed.


Sand shifted beneath Soda's sneakers as he mindlessly walked along the beach. He hadn't slept at all today. He couldn't. His stomach kept churning and hurting like he was starving, even though he wasn't hungry. His thoughts were too fast for sleep as well; they lashed against the inside of his skull like whips.

Everything after that incident was a haze. At some point, Komaeda had slipped. As did others. He hadn't been worried about the implications, though, because there would be no violence tonight. Nobody had the stomach for it. Not after that.

Soda, too, had eventually left the grounds and retreated to his cabin. There, he had lain awake for hours before restlessness finally drove him out into the late night where he paced up and down the long beaches, alone.

It wasn't until hours later that he saw a trace of human life. A lone figure sat at the end of a pier, knees drawn up to their chest. Their muffled sobs drowned out the sounds of Soda's footsteps as he drew closer.

"Hey. You okay?" he asked.

Mioda sniffled. Her pink eyes were bloodshot, hair a little askew. Soda took a seat next to her without asking and let his legs dangle over the edge.

"Today was a crappy day," he said unprompted. Mioda didn't answer, but neither of them expected her to. They didn't need a conversation. The company was enough.

With his body no longer moving, it wasn't long before he began to feel the cold. He didn't really want to move though. 'Sides, his clothing was usually pretty thick while Mioda's tended to be on the thinner side, so she must have been feeling it worse.

He kicked his feet. His reflection was visible in the water below, but it wasn't easy to see. The moon wasn't out, but neither was the sun. Only a small spattering of stars were still scattered across the cosmos but they, too, seemed duller.

"Mako-chan always seemed to be having a good time," Mioda said. "He threw so many parties."

"I thought he was too," he said after a pause. "But it sounds like it wasn't really that good."

"But. . ." Mioda took some time to think about putting her thoughts into words. In the end, however, she simply asked, "Why?"

He grunted.

". . . We never meant for him to feel this way," Koizumi said quietly.

"It doesn't matter. He does, and it's because of you." Asahina ground her teeth together. Her weight shifted from side to side as she fought to keep her cool. "Do you get it now? Whenever you guys talk about the good old days and how much fun Ultimate Despair was, that's what you're celebrating." She pointed at the distant trio of Naegi, his sister and Kirigiri.

"But we didn't touch 'im," Owari protested. "So how'd he end up like. . . like that?"

Asahina looked at her with something like pity. "You're Ultimate Despair. That's what you do."

"I mean we kinda knew," Soda admitted. "We were always talking behind his back about what a creep Komaeda was and how weird he was with him. We just . . . I dunno. I guess it was easier to pretend it wasn't happening."

Mioda shifted back. One leg joined Soda's to dangle over the edge. "Ibuki's fans always seemed to be having a great time too."

Genuinely curious, he asked, "Were they?"

She was quiet for a long time. "No. Not really."

"Yeah, not surprised." He met the tired stare of his own reflection. "We're awful people, huh?"

They stayed in each other's company for a while longer. When the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, Soda rose, hand on his pelvis as he arched backwards to crack his sore back. As his hand found its way back to his side, it brushed against cold metal. Soda looked down at the offending object and frowned.

Carefully, he unhooked the object from his belt and held it aloft, where it faintly reflected the purple and pink hues of the early dawn. Then, with a wild cry, he drew his arm back and threw the wrench as far as he could. It tumbled through the air again and again, until it disappeared beneath the waves with a distant splash.

Mioda looked up at him with concern. He accepted her offered hand and collapsed back onto the pier. He squeezed back and wiped his eyes.

"Fuck despair," he said.