-This is made by Starrshard on Ao3 and Wattpad, please check them out. I have been given permission to upload this to , as they do not have an account on this website-
A few days later, Hitoshi awoke to the sound of a bell.
He blinked away sleep and looked up to see the monitor alight. Monokuma's face graced the screen. His beady eyes seemed angry; Hitoshi flinched and wrapped the sheets tighter around his lean form.
"Ahem! This is an IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!" Hitoshi flinched again at Monokuma's sudden rise in volume; it was clearly intended to wake up every student. "Got your attention? Good.
"Everyone, please wash up as per usual and come down to the auditorium within the next hour! I repeat, clean yourselves all up so we don't have to deal with your stinky morning breath and drag your sorry asses down to the aud! Get over here ASAP!"
And then the message cut off.
Hitoshi sighed heavily; running his fingers through his tousled violet hair. Guess I have no choice. He seems to be in a bad mood
The Psychic monotonously went through the motions -brushing his teeth, taking a shower, changing, brushing out his bird's nest mess of hair-, the only scrap of motivation in his mind being that everyone'll be mad at him if he doesn't clean himself up to look half-decent. I should check on Denki after this, too, he mused as he fixed his tie and gave himself a once-over in the mirror. He should wash up, too.
Hitoshi left his room on light steps and hurried down to Denki's room. He knocked on the door; shuffling could be heard inside as the room's occupant greeted him. "Hitoshi." The blonde's voice rasped; he looked more like a mess than even Hitoshi. "What a surprise, I was just about to leave."
"No, you aren't," the violette said promptly in return. He entered the too-bright room and shut the door behind him. "I'm going to help you fix up your appearance, okay?"
"Hm. Does it matter?"
"It does." Without any more words, Hitoshi gently took Denki's arm and dragged him to his desk. "Sit down. I'll brush out your hair."
The Electrician obliged and sat still in his chair, allowing Hitoshi to pick up the brush on the tabletop and smooth out his tangled golden locks. The latter worked in silence, breaking the comfortable quiet only when he hit a knot in Denki's hair and uttered a small "Sorry if it hurts", to which the latter muttered, "S'okay."
After a few minutes, Hitoshi was satisfied with his work. Not that he was one to talk; his own tresses generally looked like a dead peacock's tail at best. He stepped back and set the brush down. "Go look at yourself in the mirror," he suggested to his friend.
Denki got up and gazed into his reflection for a moment. "Thanks, but… why did you make me look so energetic?" he inquired softly.
"W-Well… this was how you looked as a hero, right?" Hitoshi tried to salvage an answer, mentally slapping himself after the words already left his tongue. Why would I dig up old memories that probably hurt like hell for him now? Hero days… that meant days he spent happy, spent with all of his class, with Kyouka, with a future ahead of him instead of death waiting to swallow him up each and every day.
"..." Denki was quiet as he reached up, sleeves sliding back a centimeter and revealing the edges of dusty porcelain bandages. He tousled the bouncy locks Hitoshi had brushed out, causing them to fall down a little, drooping like wilted flowers; a mirror image of his mind, of the energy of this place. "I'm no hero," Denki muttered softly, blinking at himself in the mirror.
Hitoshi stared at his last companion for a heartbeat before slowly slipping forward and wrapping his arms around the smaller, looping his hands in front of Denki's shallow stomach. "You're a hero to me," he whispered. "You've survived all this time, haven't you? You're a winner in the end."
"Surviving so long means shit when everyone else is dead," Denki replied bitterly. Hitoshi could see the tears edging his sunflower eyes. "Why am I even alive when Kyouka... and Mashirao... and Eijirou and Hanta and Katsuki are all- all dead?"
"Because you're clever. Because you've had the wits to make it out alive." Hitoshi paused, ignoring the tightening of his throat at Denki's mention of the former Martial Artist. "Promise me we'll escape together?"
"Mmh." Denki paused, his eyes vacant and looking at nothing in particular in the mirror. "Promise."
"Thank you." Hitoshi pulled back. "Now, I'm sure you have your spare set of clothes around here somewhere, right?"
In less than ten minutes, Denki had changed into his clean spare outfit. He and Hitoshi walked side-by-side down the stairs, all the way to the ground floor.
When they arrived, they found that a few people were already there. Yaomomo, Shouto, and Tamaki were hovering around the auditorium doors.
"Ah. Good morning, Denki, Hitoshi," Shouto greeted respectfully. Denki dipped his head in reply while Hitoshi replied with a careful "Good morning to you, too".
Upon seeing them arrive, Tamaki -who was already standing on the other side of the door as Yaomomo and Shouto- turned around and faced the wall. Hitoshi recalled from the internship lesson that he did that when he was nervous. He hasn't actually done that during the Killing Game for as long as I can recall. What's his problem?
He didn't have a chance to ask, because it was at that moment that Nejire and Tsuyu came down the stairs together hand-in-hand. The latter was speaking to Nejire, who replied in meek tones. The bluette appeared exhausted; there were faint bags under her eyes -likely covered by concealer; she is a Beauty Pageant Star, after all. She had long given up on her ridiculous dress shoes, but obviously never thought to pick them up and just snap off the heels; she was shuffling along in fluffy slippers instead.
"H-Hey, guys." Nejire seemed to have her tired cerulean eyes pinpointed on Yaomomo; they flickered over to Tamaki a few times but appeared afraid to greet him. "Umm, why are we all standing out here?"
"The doors are locked." Yaomomo shook on the stiff door knob a few times for emphasis. "Don't know why. Monokuma called us down here, but…"
"HAH! Surprise!" The rodent -bear? robot?- of the hour leaped out from behind a pillar. Tamaki practically leaped out of his skin while Denki jumped and reached for Hitoshi- the latter took his trembling hand. "Upupupu! I scared ya good, didn't I?"
"Cut to the chase. You woke us all up for no reason, I presume?" Yaomomo snapped.
"Eh? No reason? Ononono, there's a very good reason for waking ya'll up." The black and white creature grinned wickedly. "It's punishment time!"
"H-Huh? Punishment… time?" Nejire choked out. Her grip on Tsuyu's hand visibly tightened. "For who..?"
"Calm down, calm down, you guys aren't the ones being punished." Monokuma's grin seemed to grow impossibly wider. "It's your families."
"Huh..?" Denki's voice was desolate. Hitoshi himself was stunned silent.
My… family?
A vision of his parents and his little sister holding their cat flickered through his mind.
"One of the prisoners associated with you are to be executed!" Monokuma declared in an all-too-joyful tone. "It's punishment for using that fucking SoS device! If only Tooru had destroyed the darn thing. For that hero rescue party we had to call the big guy himself, All for One, as well as all of Overhaul's little toys! Even now we're still on high guard! It was ridiculous! Never doing it again! So Shigaraki came up with the perfect little punishment."
A hostile silence followed Monokuma's words. Hitoshi could feel a hole opening up in his stomach.
Who… Who..?
Images of Aizawa, of Hizashi, of Eri flashed through his head. Inadvertently, the smiling face of Mashirao was suddenly smacked to the forefront of his thoughts as well, sending a pang straight through his chest.
People I love…
Who's going to die today?
Monokuma scanned over the assembled with a malicious eye. "That being said, come along! Get into the elevator! We're going to the trial room~!" With that, a portal opened up under his feet and he tumbled in. "So loooong!" His voice echoed as he fell, before cutting off abruptly as Kurogiri closed the passageway.
Silence had fallen over the students. Hitoshi's gaze flashed fearfully from person to person. Denki was shaking, his fingers tight on Hitoshi's hand, fingernails digging into his skin. He didn't mind; he could barely feel at this point anyway. Nejire had one arm looped around Tsuyu's back protectively, but her stature was weak. Tsuyu was still as a statue, her expression blank. Tamaki appeared to be on the verge of a breakdown. Shouto stared at the ground; Yaomomo nipped at her thumb in anxiety.
"W-Well…" The Theorist's voice shuddered. "I guess… we'll have to go…"
"Mmh." Nejire turned and took a shaky step forward. "Come on, Tsu…"
The ragged group of seven made their way into the elevator and down to the trial room. As expected, Monokuma was sitting in the throne on none other than Shigaraki himself's lap. Chisaki flanked them on one side, Kurogiri on the other.
"Upupu… welcome to punishment time~!" Monokuma giggled.
Shigaraki smacked him on the head with a gloved hand. "Be quiet." He paused to rise, allowing the robotic bear to leap off the throne and settle on the carpeted steps instead. "Hey hey. Long time no see. Nice job on surviving so long, but that device fiasco really caused a lot of trouble, you hear? A couple of your hero buddies had to be put down. A shame." He sighed. "Nonetheless, we have to carry out the punishment for such bad behavior. Come on, let's get down to the trial chamber. Live shows are fun, right?"
Without further ado, a portal appeared under his feet, similar to the one Monokuma had vanished into earlier. Chisaki turned to regard the students with condescending eyes. "Come on. Follow me." He calmly strode down the steps and made for one of the passages leading away from the trial circle.
As Hitoshi began to tail the yakuza, he felt a pit of fear and uncertainty swirling in his stomach.
Who is going to die today..?
Will it be Aizawa, who has always been there for me, who has been understanding and finally allowed me to start on my path as a hero?
Will it be Hizashi, who has been cheerful and ever so kind since the day I stepped into their lives just a few years ago, who has managed to lift me up every single time I've felt down?
Or will it be Eri, sweet Eri, the sister I've only known for months although it feels like decades, the sister I adore with all of my tar-black heart?
Who's going to suffer an unnecessary fate in just a few minutes?
Something cold brushed his hand and he flinched. At his side was Denki, his golden eyes wide with fear. His hand was extended towards the Psychic's as they continued walking down the seemingly endless dim hallway, the rest of their classmates around them. "Hitoshi… are you… okay?"
There was concern in his voice. There was an unmistakable tone of caring in his words, in his expression, in his gestures; all despite the fear so clear as day in his eyes, in his shaking body. Hitoshi wasn't sure how to respond to such a question. "I'm… fine."
"Hm." Denki turned away and shuffled onwards, Hitoshi matching his pace.
The group of students reached the execution chamber, the rectangular field surrounded by a chain-link fence, in what felt like forever. Shigaraki sat upon a throne, lit by a singular lamp, on the other side of the field and behind the fence. Invincible.
Monokuma sat in his lap. "Puhuhu! We're all here now, aren't we? Now… may the League of Villains present… the ULTIMATE PUNISHMENT TIME!"
"Hmm…" Shigaraki hummed. "Let's see how much despair this will create. Your sniveling grasping and reaching for hope… let us all see how much that disgusting notion has cost you."
Kurogiri opened up a portal in the center of the empty gray field.
"Now, for the opening act of our show…" Monokuma sneered. "...is dedicated to none other than our favorite pretty little detective, Miss Yaoyorozu Momo!"
Beside him, Hitoshi heard Yaomomo give a sharp intake of breath as the portal receded and a girl who seemed no more than just past high school tumbled out onto the cold, unforgiving ground.
"C-Cynthia!" Yaomomo's voice sliced through the still air as she rushed to the fence, her fingers laced in the chain links. There was a sort of hollow desperation in her words, a feeling Hitoshi had never seen her express. "Cynthia!"
"Momo-chan..?" The young lady was dressed in a black and white maid's outfit. The dress and lace were in tatters; her azure hair, dyed in a gradient of scarlet from the tips, was tied back in a smooth ponytail with a darker blue ribbon. A white lace headband adorned the once-glossy tresses. I suppose the League gave her a hairbrush, but not a change of clothes. Dried blood splattered her cheek. Her cerulean eyes, the same shade as the ribbon, were disoriented as she looked up at Yaomomo. "Momo-chan, is that… is that you..?"
She shakily rose to her feet before stumbling forward, obviously unused to moving around so much. Her knees seemed wobbly, her limbs weak. "Momo..?"
"Y-Yes, it's me!" Yaomomo tried to reach her hand through one of the chains, her fingers struggling against the metal. "Cynthia…"
"Momo, I- I thought you were dead…" Cynthia's voice rasped as she hit the fence, her fingers against her friend's. "I thought… they had killed you…"
"No, I'm not dead, no," Yaomomo quickly said, her words coming out hurried, tears springing to her eyes. "Cynthia, listen, you're about to be-"
Before she could finish, a row of thin, spear-like blades, narrow and gleaming sharp under the hot lights of the execution chamber, sprung out of the earth. The tips sliced into both Yaomomo and Cynthia's fingertips, and both girls stumbled back. Yaomomo let out a yelp of shock while Cynthia merely whimpered, a small sound strained from her throat. Of course. She's used to the physical pain…
"Y-Yaomomo-!" Shouto hurried forward, a steady hand on her shoulder as she clutched her own bleeding fingers. Magenta droplets hit the floor. The Detective's silver eyes were fixed on a point between the blades; Cynthia was standing there, hands at her sides, blood flowing freely onto the ground. Her eyes were sad as she met Yaomomo's stare.
Cynthia Miito's execution: Maze of Needles : Executed!
A spear suddenly erupted out of a floor tile right in front of her, barely missing her nose. She stepped back, eerily calm, before turning around to face the field.
All around the chamber, spears were rising sporadically from the ground and retracting in the same fashion, creating a deadly web of metal points. Cynthia scanned the field for a few seconds before turning to glance at her ravenette friend, find her tearful silver eyes.
A pair of blades rising at angles around her -just barely missing striking her in the skull had she not dodged- snapped her attention back to the execution at hand. She seemed to set herself before racing into the field, quickly dodging the spears on painfully uneven footing.
She was doing pretty well avoiding getting hit when she miscalculated a step and sidled straight into a criss-crossing of blades, throwing her impaled body a few feet into the air, suspended on the spears. The metal points had managed to strike right through her abdomen, likely rupturing half her major organs.
"Guhh…" The maid's choked gasp echoed in the now-silent chamber. All of the spears suddenly swiftly retracted back into the ground, allowing her broken and bloody body to hit the ground. Her breathing and Yaomomo's ragged, choked sobs were the only hints of sound in the room.
"M… Momo…" Yaomomo seemed to freeze in place, her eyes wide as she stared at Cynthia's crumpled facedown body on the stone earth. "Thank you… for everything…"
Tears slid silently down the Affluent Progeny's flushed cheeks as she could do nothing but stare. Cynthia took a shaky inhale; one of her very last, it seemed. "I don't think… I'm so scared of dying… knowing you're alive…" Another choked breath; she struggled to possibly move her head, to look at Yaomomo in the face, but a few strains of her arms and hands and she stopped, going limp once more. She instead managed to tilt her head so she could side-eye her audience instead. "Thanks for… being my only friend…"
A final exhale.
Hitoshi held his own breath as he awaited her to inhale once more.
She never did.
A crane arm appeared from above and lowered into the chamber, clamping unceremoniously around Cynthia's limp, bloody body and lifting her up and away to some corpse fridge- whatever the League did with the dead bodies. Yaomomo began to sob, her knees giving out under her as she collapsed to the ground against the fence, bleeding fingers pressed against the chains. Shouto crouched down next to her, one arm looping around her torso and a hand rubbing her back. He offered no words; nothing could possibly soothe her after seeing Cynthia die
Right.
She died because of us… because we used that device…
And that's only the first of the executions. There's… seven of us…
Why..?
The rest of the assembled could only stare blankly at the pool of blood soaking into the ground; what's the chamber floor even made of? It looks like stone yet is soaking up that magenta puddle like a wine stain on a shirt…
"Puhu… exhilarating, isn't it?" Monokuma had the nerve to look amused; Shigaraki had an expert bored-face on. "That's just the opening act, too! We've got plenty more…
"Next, it's time for Mister Theorist Shouto Todoroki's prisoner!"
A new portal opened up, right over the drying pool of blood. Shouto stiffened as a young man with white hair tumbled out into the chamber, landing steadily on his feet before rising. He appeared scuffed and worn, but there was a fire, a fire that blazed vengefully cold as a winter gale, one that resided in his dull gray eyes.
"Natsuo!" Shouto didn't move from his place at Yaomomo's side, but his eyes were fixed on his older brother.
"Sh-Shouto… so you're alive. They didn't lie. That's good news." The older male's expression softened just a tad. "I'm glad to know you're okay before I die. Stay alive, wouldja?"
Shouto's eyes widened as he stared blankly at the other. An arc of flame suddenly exploded from the ceiling, flying straight towards Natsuo in a swirl of vivid cerulean. Panic began to settle into the normally composed Theorist's features. "L-Look out! Your ri-"
Natsuo was on it before Shouto could even finish his sentence. He whirled around, hand raised, jaw set.
An explosion of ice erupted from his palm.
"Wh..?" The class was stunned silent; Hitoshi himself stared, mesmerized, at the shining ray of water that splashed to the ground as the blazing flames struck crystal and melted into liquid, converging upon each other with no victor.
How…
How does he still have his quirk..?
"Fun, isn't it?" Shigaraki drawled from above. "He's going to duke it out with his own execution. Let's see who wins, shall we?"
Natsuo Todoroki's Execution: Shades of Blue : Executed!
Another arc of flames erupted from above, circling around him like a dragon before plunging inwards. Natsuo caught it just in time, a jet of water and steam arching from his palm. He was in a battle stance, his eyes alert and blazing as he kept a 360-degree lookout for the attacks.
Twin bursts of fire suddenly cascaded from the ceiling, angling to meet and strike Natsuo on both sides. Gritting his teeth, he rose both hands, palms skywards. Ice spiked from his skin, meeting hot cyan tongues in an eruption of steam and water.
Again and again. Another spiral of blaze twirled from the wall behind him, followed by a tsunami of flames from above.
The massive wave of fire struck ice and transformed into water. As it fell, soaking Natsuo, Hitoshi realized that frost was forming on his clothes and hair. He exhaled a plume of cold mist and stiffly looked around; he's not used to such exertion of his quirk, even if it's powerful and he has control of it.
A heartbeat of silence. Hitoshi could hear Natsuo's breathing; if human beings were more acute, he swore he'd be able to hear Shouto's heartbeat as well. Suddenly, a streamlined jet of flames blew from a vacuum on the wall, right in front of Natsuo.
The white-haired young man rose both of his hands and directed a shield of ice towards the fire. He was visibly growing weaker by the moment. The barricade of ice was growing thinner and thinner, until-
Natsuo released the frozen shield and leaped to the side, expecting the jet of flame to go straight and fizzle out.
Except it didn't.
The blue fire curved and arched towards him; Natsuo's eyes widened and he turned to run for the wall, casting three bullets of frostbite behind him to slow the hellish attack's progress. It would've been a perfect plan except the fire blasted right through the ice at full speed, and Natsuo was backed against the wall.
He stood there, the fire getting closer, hunch-backed and appearing weaker. Frost covered his cheek and one of his eyes was tightly shut due to a vein of ice sliding over it. He rose his right arm, left hand supporting his bicep. A final jolt of crystal erupted from his fingers and was swallowed by the fast approaching flame.
In that split moment, with the flames a mere meter away from him, Hitoshi could see about a hundred thoughts race through the poor guy's head; a hundred regrets, a hundred unfulfilled promises, a hundred wishes that would never be granted. His eye glazed over with a feeling far too familiar for the Psychic, for all of the students present.
Despair.
Natsuo leaped out into the flames with his eyes tightly shut.
As the crackle of the fire faded, Hitoshi took one look at the smoldering, charred, crumpled remains of what may have once been a human body on the ground and looked down, eyes tightly shut. In the millisecond his gaze went over Shouto, he could see that the Theorist still had his arms wound around Yaomomo's shuddering, curled-up figure, but his eyes were fixed on the arena. Tears slipped down his face, silently but steadily in a river of sorrow, of emotion, something he seldom showed to a single soul, not even to Yaomomo, probably.
That's only… the second execution…
Five more people we must see suffer today.
"Puhuhu… despairful, eh?" Monokuma's voice was taunting in his ears. "We're not even close to being done!"
"Please… no more…" Hitoshi thought he could hear Yaomomo whimper. Shouto stroked her back again as she coiled further inwards into herself.
"Next, we have the delightful Tsuyu Asui's… um… what should we call these..? Oh! Prisoner punishments!" Monokuma seemed awfully happy with his naming prowess. Shigaraki smacked his head with three fingers. "Okay, okay! I'll hurry up!" the bear grumbled. "Anyway- we now move onto the delightful Tsuyu Asui's prisoner punishment!"
A new portal appeared, and out tumbled the small, scrawny figure of a young boy, younger than the high-schoolers and shorter than Tsuyu. Tsuyu… that must be her little brother, right..?
"Wh-Where..?" The boy's voice croaked and faded. He was wearing the tattered remains of a plain blue T-shirt; well, maybe it was once blue. It had faded to an odd gray now. His dark green hair was tangled and dirty; his expression was blank, devoid of all. He surprisingly ignored the heap of charred Natsuo as he turned. Maybe he didn't notice...
He got up to look around when his hazy eyes landed on the assembled students; specifically on his own sister, the girl having shuffled to the front of the group next to Shouto. She was now standing with her hands pressed to the fence. Nejire stood behind her in a mildly overprotective fashion, the turn of her lips betraying her everlasting concern for the shorter.
"S-Sami… dare..?" Tsuyu's own voice came out as a rasp. "You're… alive. That's cool, I guess."
"Onee-san?" Samidare got up and began to stumble towards the fence. "Tsu?"
He never made it to the Swimmer, though, as a massive, thorny vine reached out of the damp ground and snatched him around the middle, tossing him up into the air.
Samidare Asui's Execution: The Scraps Tossed to the Dogs : Executed!
Samidare shrieked -whether in terror and pain, Hitoshi was unsure- as the vine let him go airborne; the thorns must've hurt to some degree, although they didn't seem to draw blood. Tsuyu drew in a sharp breath as a second vine sprouted from the ground and reached up to flick him across the arena with a harsh edge, followed by a third and a fourth.
The vines were keeping Samidare's limp, wriggling form in the air as if participating in some sick game of volleyball. He screamed and cried as the vines threw him about like some sort of ragdoll. Hitoshi blinked a few times and realized that the dark green thorns were beginning to pierce skin; bright pink splattered a few of the photosynthetic tentacles, and damp magenta patches were blossoming on the child's body.
Hitoshi ripped his gaze from the horrific scene in the arena, away from the torturously slow process of Samidare's body being torn into shreds, and found his eyes glued to Tsuyu. The viridian-haired girl's expression was blank, frozen as she stared at the execution, but tears were running a steady track down her face. Nejire was stiff behind her, unsure if touching her would offer comfort or agony.
More and more vines sprouted from the earth bearing even longer thorns with equally sharp points. The vines converged upon Samidare, who had ceased screaming; he only cried, tears running pink with blood.
His shrieks were abruptly cut off as a ghastly ripping noise hit the chamber walls.
Hitoshi was entranced as the vines fell back, allowing the pieces of the small boy's corpse to hit the ground in a tsunami of blood. Fear was set into his every limb, but he couldn't move. He could only watch; he was merely a useless bystander in everything, after all.
A strangled sob suddenly tore its way out of Tsuyu's throat as she began to cry, arms wrapped around her stomach as she openly wept. Nejire tentatively leaned over to wrap her arms around Tsuyu's shuddering figure; the smaller leaned into her touch like a child to her mother.
Words could be made out as Tsuyu began babbling incoherently between sobs. "S-Stop it all… I'm shaking… my eyes… burn… it burns… p-please save him… Samidare… save him… I can't… burns… shakes…"
Hitoshi tried not to linger too long on Tsuyu's seemingly random assortment of words as Nejire offered hushed words of comfort and stroked her hair with tender fingers. Meanwhile, Monokuma chuckled from the throne on the other side of the arena. Behind him, Shigaraki seemed to smile. "Puhuhu… despairful, how despairful…" He got a hold of himself and continued with the show. "The next one's for you, Mister Tamaki Amajiki!"
Hitoshi pretty much began to tune out the senseless violence at this point, his own brain unwilling to process anything anymore. A woman who looked about thirty landed in the arena. She had long, dark hair like Tamaki's but bore shockingly vibrant, green eyes. Her figure was lean like her son's.
Hitoshi watched through hazy eyes as she ducked and dodged and ran to avoid the axe blades flying out of the ceiling at her like ninja stars. One nicked her on the shoulder; another on her leg. Then, as she limped along in a futile attempt to dodge, a blade sliced her head clean off in a spray of blood.
As Tamaki silently watched, tears streaking down his face, his entire body shaking and eyes wide, the axes rained down on her broken body and cut it into a hundred pieces.
There was blood everywhere, flesh and fluid and mucus sprayed all over the floor and soaking into the tiles. Hitoshi nearly gagged viewing the scene; Tamaki was having a breakdown, curled up on the floor with his head buried under his arms, sobbing quietly. Nejire tried to pull away from Tsuyu to move towards him, but she grabbed onto the bluette and cried harder, restraining her from her friend. The Beauty Pageant's eyes were pained as she watched Tamaki, unable to shift a centimeter.
Then, much to Hitoshi's surprise -enough to snap him back into reality-, Denki slipped over to Tamaki's side, crouching down and quietly inquiring something. Hitoshi could make out a weak "Stay here" through Tamaki's sobs, his back shaking as he cried. Denki placed a hand on his shoulder.
However, when Hitoshi looked to his expression, it was one of fear and anxiety, not of concern.
His hands are shaking, too.
He didn't have time to dwell on it, though. Monokuma was moving on.
"And now, here we present a familiar face… it's time for Hitoshi Shinsou's prisoner execution!"
Oh no.
Hell no.
A portal appeared.
Who… who..?
A tall, slim man with long blonde hair tumbled out, landing unceremoniously on his stomach with a groan.
Oh God.
"D-Dad!" He couldn't help but cry out and rush to the fence, fingers lacing into the links as if trying to undo them and force himself in. Everything else seemed to fade; it was just him and his father, his father who was currently getting to his feet and rearranging his glasses on his angular face.
"Hitoshi..?" Hizashi's voice was hushed, for once; whether it was from shock or the loss of his quirk the Psychic would never know. "You're alive…"
"Y-Yeah…" Hitoshi's grip on the chain-link tightened. "I'm sorry…"
"Sorry?" Hizashi, despite the clear exhaustion in his viridian eyes, tilted his head like a confused cat; something he picked up from Papa, no doubt. "What're you saying sorry for?"
Hitoshi felt his throat tighten. "It's my fault… our fault… that the prisoners had to be killed… y-you…" He couldn't help the tears from falling, the sobs from forcing their way out of his throat in strangled gasps. He looked down, his hands over his face, hiding him from the world. He could feel Hizashi's eyes burning into him, as well as a good chunk of his classmates staring at him. God, how embarrassing…
"It's not your fault, Hitoshi."
The violette looked up, hands lowering. Hizashi was gazing at him with warm, emerald eyes, tears edging them like crystalized ghosts of raindrops. The small, sad hints of a smile tugged at his lips. "You guys are only trying to escape, and you're doing a darn good job at that. You couldn't have known this would happen, alright?"
Hitoshi could only cry in return.
"Please… don't beat yourself up over it, okay, Hitoshi?" The blonde continued. "I'm sure Papa- Aizawa- will forgive you, too. As if there was anything to forgive in the first place."
The violette tried to swallow his pitiful sobbing and heaved a ragged breath, looking up to his father with dark, teary eyes. "Dad…"
Whatever last words he might've wished to say instantly died in his throat as a loud rattle exploded from the ceiling.
Hizashi Yamada's Execution: Open Mic Night : Executed!
A cacophony of screeching, of birdcall, erupted from an enclosure in the ceiling, held back via a cage door. The metal rattled as whatever was captured up there clamored to be let loose. Hizashi turned, panic evident in his features, eyes fixed skywards to the cage.
Monokuma's laugh echoed through the chamber as he whipped out a dark green remote control. Shigaraki snatched it from him and fiddled with the buttons and switches for a moment, eliciting a rusty click, screech from the ceiling trap.
The door swung open; with it swarmed a flock of what seemed to be massive cockatoos- Nomus, clearly, considering the size, wingspan, and furious scarlet eyes of the birds. The creatures descended upon Hizashi, hovering in a loose circle around him. Ear-splitting squawks, ones that struck Hitoshi's chest like lightning bolts, were ripped from their deathly sharp beaks.
"H-Hey there birdies…" Anxiety slipped through Hizashi's cracking voice. He stood his ground, sweeping over the offenders with swift glances. "Whatcha doing?"
At that prompting, the birds dove at him with murder in their eyes.
"AUGH!" Hizashi's scream embedded itself in Hitoshi's head, ringing in his skull like an eternal church bell, except the deity he was worshipping was from the depths of hell itself. Tears streaked down his face in rivers as he watched, entranced, through his fingers.
The birds were mauling Hizashi, diving at him, ripping at appendages and limbs, their deadly black beaks swiftly soaking pink as they sliced through clothes and tore skin, hitting flesh and veins, bringing mucus-coated bone to gleaming yellow light and then snapping those, the fragments hitting the ground one by one.
Hitoshi wasn't so sure when his father died, only that his screams of agony carried on for at least a few minutes. Or was it seconds? He'd lost all sense of time a while ago.
He only knew that the massive white birds had turned pink by the time they were done, by the time they backed away for a split second to survey their deadly work, the chunks of flesh and skin and clothes and bone and organs scattered all over the ground. Hitoshi gagged; a heap of torn, slimy darker pink film was presumably a stomach. Acid leaked onto the ground, pooling around the torn body parts. Blood soaked the ground, soaked the entire chamber.
The birds, full from scavenging their kill, ascended to the cage again, quieter this time with their bellies satisfied. The chamber was silent upon the closure of the cage door that locked the birds back into their living quarters above with the other apocalyptic Nomu.
Well, for Hitoshi, it only left him alone with his thoughts, looping, delirious words of Oh God I'm going to throw up what the fuck oh my God it's my fault this is my fault please don't let me throw up oh my God please please be a dream be a fucking dream what is happening I'm going insane it's my fault it's my fault it's my fau-
A hand on his shoulder. Hitoshi jumped and whipped around only to see Denki, the Electrician's cold hand shakily extended to him. It was a silent act of comfort, but it quenched the voices in his head for a moment, even if it was brief, and even if the tears still fell from his violet eyes.
Back on the other side of the arena, Monokuma giggled. "Puhu…" Shigaraki silently surveyed the execution chamber strewn with corpse parts. From Cynthia's bloodstain to the pile of Natsuo's ashy remains, as well as the pieces of Samidare, Tamaki's mother, and Hizashi, the area was like a warzone.
"Two more to go." The handsy League leader's voice was monotonous as per usual. His words were hardly registering in Hitoshi's ringing ears. "Let us move on already. It's time for Denki Kaminari's prisoner execution."
Hitoshi immediately felt Denki began to shake, his hand weakening. In a surge of impulsiveness, his addled mind incapable of maintaining any dignity, he whirled around and wrapped his arms around his smaller friend in an encompassing hug. Denki was still shaking, but at least Hitoshi felt as if he were doing something to help.
Selfish, selfish, I'm so stupidly selfish…
Kurogiri opened a portal, transporting a massive glass tank, akin to an aquarium exhibit, into the chamber. It landed right on top of a various collection of body parts; the floor of the tank was see-through, so the crushed remains of the dead shone through like some sort of twisted mat.
The portal shrunk to human size over the top of the open tank.
Why? Why is this happening? This can't… this can't be… this… can't...
There were a hundred thoughts speeding through Denki's head, and none of them were pleasant.
This… can't be…
Out tumbled a young girl, eight years old, her hair the same shade as her big brother's and held back with a black headband. Her stature was frail, her hands delicate and gentle, her heart too big for the small body she was gifted.
She landed in the middle of the tank, right next to the image of scrap of Samidare's skin through the glass floor, the ground painted pink below her no matter where one looked. She yelped as she caught herself on her hands and knees, the tan gown and dark gray leggings loosely covering her little frame. As she opened her eyes, her wide, vibrantly green eyes, her gaze landed on the disaster under her enclosure.
She blinked.
Emotionless.
"Ichika!" Denki felt the name being torn out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He ripped himself out of Hitoshi's grasp, throwing himself against the chain-link fence instead. He felt a warm hand against his back. "Ichika!"
The little girl, his beloved sister, looked up from the floor and met his eyes. A smile slipped over her lips. "Nii-san..! You're alive!" Her voice was soft, but loud enough to be heard clearly despite the tank, her eyes lighting up like the first stars of twilight. "I'm happy to see you again."
She got up but made no move to run for her brother- her warm, emerald gaze swept across the horrors across the chamber, at the tank holding her hostage. "What happened here?" Her voice was steady, not even shaking a single bit.
She's so strong… too strong…
She didn't deserve this…
Ichika…
"I-It's the… execution chamber…" Denki swallowed down the knot in his throat. "You've seen them broadcast the trials, s-surely…"
"Yeah. Yeah, I know about the executions." Ichika surveyed the environment with a maturity -or is it reckless, ignorant bravery?- far beyond her age. "This is some sort of wicked punishment, huh?" She looked up at Monokuma's glowing red eye on the throne above, the offenders safe and sound outside of the chamber. "Why kill so many innocent prisoners?"
Both Monokuma and Shigaraki were silent.
There was a thump high above. All heads snapped skywards.
One of many massive, rubber hoses lowered from the ceiling.
A click.
I'm so sorry, Ichika.
Ichika Kaminari's Execution: Faulty Aquarium Exhibition : Executed!
Water sprayed out from the hose, hitting the tank and steadily filling it. Ichika jumped away from the splash, backing to the corner of the tank as the liquid began to spread. Within minutes, the water was even all throughout the tank, rapidly rising to her ankles.
"Ah… so this is what I'm supposed to endure." Ichika stared at her feet before looking back to her audience, to her brother, to Denki. There was resignment in her sad expression. "Thanks for everything, Denki."
"N-No-!" The Electrician cried out, his fingers clutching the loops of metal, rattling it in a desperate attempt to get through to her. "Ichika, come on… this… wasn't supposed to happen..! You were supposed to live a successful life and become a hero, right..? So please, try to get out the tank or something!"
Anything…
Anything but this..!
"Sorry, Nii-san…" Ichika was downcast. "But you know I can't do that. I can't escape. Shigaraki wouldn't allow that."
Shigaraki.
The League of Villains.
I'm going to fucking kill them for this.
For hurting… my little sister...
"B-But… Ichika-" he choked out.
"No. You know I'm right." Ichika sighed. "I always am, huh?"
Silence fell upon the chamber, the only sound being from the water sloshing into the tank, rising higher and higher.
One minute passed, then two.
The water was up to Ichika's chin now, and she was making no attempt to swim or escape. Her blonde locks floated in the crystal-clear liquid, her clothes rippling in the flow of the pump. Denki stared, wide-eyed, tears slipping down his cheeks. She met his gaze.
"Thank you, Nii-san. For everything. I love you."
Her voice is like a song.
Then she closed her eyes and allowed the liquid to flow over her face, her head going under.
There was something serene about her as she accepted her fate to drown, to die because she was given no choice otherwise. There was a pure sort of relaxation, of painless suffering in her face as she allowed the water to pass through her parted lips and into her rose-filled lungs, to wash over the thorns that ensnared her heart, a heart filled with too much love everyone and everything, with far too much understanding and forgiveness for anyone to even begin to accept and reciprocate.
Of course that wouldn't last.
Entranced by his sister's dying expression, Denki had failed to notice the jagged metal rod that had extended from the far corner of the tank.
A surge of electricity ripped through the clear liquid like flames incinerating a piece of paper. Through the glass, Ichika's body convulsed in a spasm, her face taking on an expression of intense, burning agony as the voltage flowed through every cell of her body.
There was another shock. And another. And another. The water steamed; small bolts crackled on the surface of the tank's contents. Ichika's body was limp, spasming with each and every shockwave, fully in the control of the surges.
"Please… stop…" Denki whimpered as the small girl's likely unconscious -dead?- body convulsed again with another shock. "Please…"
The shockwaves stopped after another three jolts, and Ichika's body floated to the top of the tank.
Dead.
"Puhu… such a nice girl, meeting such an unfortunate end." Monokuma's vile voice rang through the execution chamber. "Much like our final prisoner."
"N-No…" Nejire's voice was hushed, but audible and wracked with anguish. "Not… her…" Her grip on Tsuyu visibly tightened, despite the shorter having ceased crying, resigned to pitifully coiling up in her guardian's arms instead.
"Of course, unlike poor Miss Kaminari-" Denki flinched at the mention of his family name, "-our final prisoner won't be undergoing such a punishment. No, she's going to be going through something much worse."
What could possibly be worse than tearing away the future of a little girl who has yet to see the world?
"Introducing… Nejire Hadou's prisoner, Eri!"
Something went cold in the deepest pits of Denki's stomach.
Not… her…
Anyone… but her…
The tank was sucked up by the portal, taking Ichika with it. Denki was surprisingly silent, perhaps being too stunned to make any audible protest. The portal shrank to human size again, just like when it'd teleported Ichika.
Nejire didn't notice she was shaking until Tsuyu reached up and placed a cool, comforting hand on her shoulder. Her eyes were fixed on the portal.
Except instead of a small, blue-haired girl with crimson eyes and a singular horn, a man wearing a beak-like mask stepped out of the portal.
Kai Chisaki.
And in his metallic arms was Eri, tiny Eri, dressed in a dull, cerulean gown, her horn having grown long enough to curl.
Bandages adorned her twig-like arms and legs. Her face was blank, but there was a sort of manic fear and panic in her dead stare, in the depths of her scarlet eyes, eyes the color of blood run dry.
She turned her head and Nejire flinched, cold sweat beading down the sides of her face.
She's looking straight at me.
The girl's expression was unreadable.
"As you can all see, your ignorance has gotten Eri back in my grasp, as she should be. Don't worry." There was a hint of mocking in the yakuza's voice. "She'll be safe with me."
Another portal opened up underneath his feet and he sank into it. Eri curled back up in his chest, head turned so that she could bury her face in her arms and hands.
It's my fault. It's my fault.
This is… all my fault…
"G-Guys… I'm… so sorry…" Nejire sobbed. Tears dripped down her face in a relentless torrent. "It's my fault… th-this is…"
"It's okay, Nejire." Yaomomo's voice was hollow. "It's okay. None of us… saw this coming…"
"Puhuhu… fun, wasn't it?" Monokuma's voice was filled with taunting, with sick amusement. "That concluded our show! Have a nice day… upupu."
"Class dismissed," Shigaraki drawled. "Please go down the hallway and then load onto the elevator, yada-yada-yada, you know the drill. See you all later~"
"Oh! Shigaraki, you forgot something!" Nejire's blood ran cold as Monokuma suddenly spoke up again. "If we see you kids use that machine even just one more time, we'll execute another prisoner per person!"
Ah…
Our escape…
"So keep that in mind and run off now! Toodles!" the bear continued. Shigaraki followed that up with a huffy "Shoo, shoo".
The class turned, dejected, and began to shuffle away, each of them bearing a new weight on their shoulders. Nejire took Tsuyu's hand and started down the hall, eyes fixed to the floor, a hundred thoughts paddling circles in her skull.
Why did Eri have to be my prisoner, of all people..?
Why me? Why..?
I've failed her… and look where that's gotten her.
I'm so sorry, Eri.
I'm so sorry.
God, I'm so fucking sorry.
I've failed.
I've failed again.
You tried your best, but it wasn't enough.