-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-
The day started normally; the same as usual. Well, as normal as life in a killing game can be.
Yaomomo sighed, aimlessly wandering the halls of the library, running her calloused fingertips against the infinitely many dusty spines of books. She ignored the filthy feeling of gathering dirt on her skin as she left a clean streak along the shelves.
She didn't care about anything anymore.
Cynthia's dying moments replayed in her head far more often than she would've liked. She couldn't help but eternally see visions of spears impaling the blue-haired girl's body, piercing her organs -keep walking- a shower of blood raining from the puncture wounds tunneling through her limp figure, splattering the ground with crimson streaks as she lay dying -one step, two steps-, her final words dedicated to her master, her friend, her only friend -one foot in front of the other-, who betrayed her by using that hell-forsaken device, the device that wound up killing so many innocent people right in front of her eyes -it's okay- and she couldn't do anything about it -it's okay- and it was all her fault her fucking fault for even suggesting they use that device -it's okay- and she should've died instead of them and it's not okay, it's not fucking okay so stop trying to convince yourself it is-
"Yaomomo?" The Detective blinked. Once, twice. Shouto was suddenly standing in front of her, a hand on her forearm. She was standing between two massive bookshelves, her dusty fingers against the wood. There was something wet on her face; she reached up with her clean hand and felt tears. How'd they get here? How long have I stood here? "Yaomomo, are you okay?"
"Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." Her voice was monotonous. She wiped away the tears, brushed the dust off of her left hand on her skirt. Her companion stepped back. "Why are you here?"
"I was looking for our classmates. Something feels wrong, and I don't know why. But I trust my gut feeling." Shouto sighed and ran a hand through his mussed hair. "I feel like something bad has happened."
Yaomomo could feel a knot forming in the base of her gut. Her palms began to sweat; she wrung them together anxiously. "We're... in a Killing Game," she murmured. "If something's wrong... then..."
She didn't finish her sentence; she didn't have to, judging by the way Shouto visibly jolted. Yaomomo stared at her feet. "Who haven't you seen today..?" she inquired, her voice so soft that one would have to strain to hear it in the silent library.
"Tsuyu, Nejire, Tamaki, and Denki," he replied, anxiety clear in the trembling of his voice. "Come on, we have to find them." Shouto reached out a hand and grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her in a beeline for the door. Yaomomo obliged.
I wonder who we can save today.
I also wonder who's already too far gone to be revived.
They made their way up the stairs; since the Ultimate Punishment had occurred, most of the students had holed up in their rooms, or something of the like. Hitoshi was the one oddity; he hid out in a closet on the fourth floor, rummaging through the dozens of musty boxes in the dark little space. Yaomomo once tried to ask what he was doing, but he mumbled something gibberish and kept at his work. She only ever tried interrupting him to bring him a tray of food and drink during mealtimes.
Now, he was still in his dusty corner, fingers fumbling through another dusty box. The flickering lightbulb overhead crackled as the duo opened the door a crack.
"Come on... come on, I have to... find... something..." The violette could be heard frantically mumbling, his quiet voice accompanied by the clanking of a heap of metal being shifted around. Yaomomo peered over Shouto's shoulder to see Hitoshi digging through a cardboard box of metal gadgets. His eyes were wide with some sort of deranged panic as his hands jerked through the contents.
"H-Hey, Hitoshi..." Yaomomo tried to grab his attention gently, but he ignored her. "Hitoshi. Hitoshi!" He jumped, snapping out of his mania. The Psychic looked up.
"Ah. Yaomomo and Shouto. What happened?" His voice was monotonous as usual.
"It's petty, but... I feel like something is wrong," Shouto explained, slightly embarrassed judging by the reddening of his ears. "Just wanted to ask if you'd seen the others today."
"Hm." The purple-haired male paused, a finger to his chin. "No." He didn't elaborate. His gaze was already drifting back to his box.
"Fine then. We'll get going, then," Yaomomo said.
Hitoshi nodded in acknowledgement before resuming his activities, continuing to dig through the dusty box with detached interest. Yaomomo tugged on the Theorist's sleeve, dragging him out of the closet and gently closing the door behind them.
The two silently continued on, going all the way up to the dorms. "Are you sure this is really a good idea?" Yaomomo prompted. "I mean, this is based off of your gut feeling that someone has died. Maybe you're just paranoid, or something."
The gesture of comfort was half-hearted; Yaomomo trusted the Theorist's intuition, especially in a killing game where he has been one of the top trial-goers. Besides, she had to agree; she couldn't help but feel paranoid that another murder had occured ever since the Ultimate Punishment -since you killed Cynthia-, when everyone quickly transitioned to being shut-ins.
"i know it's petty. I just know I won't be able to drop it until we do something," Shouto insisted, striding down the hallway. He made way for Nejire's room, knocking on the door. Yaomomo hurried to chase after him.
"H-Hey, I'm serious, it looks kinda silly if you bother everyone for no reason," Yaomomo pushed. Even if she trusted him, on the off-chance Shouto was just being overly paranoid it would be embarrassing to knock on every single living person's door just to make sure they weren't on the floor with a knife in their chest or something.
"I don't care. If I don't do anything, nothing happens. If I'm wrong but check on everyone anyways, nothing happens either. It'll be fine."
Yaomomo opened her mouth to respond when she heard shuffling from within Nejire's room. The bluette opened the door a crack, her cerulean eyes red and clouded. Her hair was an absolute mess, the usually silky locks tangled. Behind her, Tsuyu peered over her shoulder like a curious cat. Her hair was partially brushed, wavy viridian cascading down her back. Her gaze was never stationary, her eyes darting from corner to corner, flashing across Yaomomo and Shouto in a glimmer of recognition.
"Ah... hey..." Nejire tucked her arms behind her back. She was wearing a pale, teal bathrobe over her usual dress, paired with her slippers. "What's up?" The upwards lilt in her voice was obviously faked; she looked like she'd just crawled out of her grave.
"Nothing. I had a sort of gut feeling earlier, thought something was seriously wrong. So I wanted to check up on all of you," Shouto explained. "Sorry for bothering you."
"Oh, that's fine." Nejire's voice was strained. "Thanks for the concern. You should check up on the others. Tsu and I are okay."
She paused awkwardly, clearly waiting for the pair to take their leave. Yaomomo poked Shouto in the side and turned to leave, waving farewell to the Beauty Pageant Star and Swimmer. The Theorist quickly followed suit.
"Next would be Tamaki... right?" Yaomomo pointed across the hall.
"Mmh." Shouto hurried over and knocked on his door, Yaomomo again tailing him. She paused, swaying back and forth on her heels.
One heartbeat. Two. Three.
Tamaki didn't come out.
"Huh. Maybe he's just somewhere else. Come on, let's go find Denki first, then worry about chasing him around the school," Yaomomo insisted. Shouto frowned and followed her up the stairs to Denki's room.
They followed the same ritual at the Electrician's door. Sure enough, the blonde opened the door in a similar hesitant fashion to Nejire. "Hi... guys..."
Shouto explained why they were there again and bid him farewell. The two brainiacs made their way downstairs. "Alright. You want to go hunt down Tamaki now, don't you?" Yaomomo prompted. The heterochronous male nodded in reply. Gee. He won't let it drop until he makes sure everyone's okay, huh? How sweet... "I'm down for it. Do you think we could maybe ask Nejire about where he'd be likely to show up?"
The duo returned to Nejire's room. The bluette took the door; this time, Tsuyu was laying in bed, staring at the wall, her lips moving in ghostly, wordless mumbles. "Ah. Why are you two back again? Did you check up on everyone?"
"Yeah. Tamaki's not in his room, though, so we wanted to know where we could find him." Yaomomo shrugged casually. "Any ideas? You should know him best."
Nejire was silent in reply, her expression going blank. Her entire body had gone rigid like a deer in headlights. "Eh? Nejire?" The Detective blinked and reached out to brush her fingers again the older's; her response was to jerk away from the touch. "Are you okay?"
"Tamaki's... not in his room?" Nejire's voice began to shake; crystal tears were already making their appearance. Her eyes were wide and hazy, still fixated on something invisible in some corner of her unstable mind. Her hands were bunched in fists in front of her collar, nails digging red welts into her pallor skin. Her legs were shuddering; her shift to full-on panic mode was startling, to say the least. She looked about ready to collapse into sobs, despite the fact nothing definitive had happened yet. "He's... always in his room... he never..."
"H-Hey! Don't freak out just yet!" Shouto attempted to soothe the girl, who was clearly on the verge of a panic attack. Tsuyu had jumped off of the bed and was approaching the trio as well, upon seeing her caretaker starting to spiral. "Maybe he just refused to answer the door. He isn't one for letting strangers in, right? We didn't exactly bust down his door."
"Ah... that's... a little better." Nejire gulped, a hand swiftly going to her forehead to wipe away cold sweat. "Did you at least... hear anything from inside the room?"
"No. It was dead quiet. But the doors aren't exactly paper," Yaomomo hurried to add upon seeing Nejire pale again. "Come on. Let's all go down together. Maybe he'll answer if it's you."
"Okay... that sounds fine... Come on, Tsu." Nejire blindly waved a hand behind her, and Tsuyu gently took it. "Let's go... quickly, now."
It turned out that Nejire could run surprisingly fast despite her unsteady footing and slippers, in addition to having Tsuyu in tow. She practically barged into the lobby of room 1-G, stumbling into Tamaki's door. She rapped on the wood with her knuckles, hard. There was a sort of manic desperation in her voice as she began to call out for her friend. "Tamaki! Tamaki, it's Nejire! Please, open up! Yaomomo and Shouto came by earlier to check on you, and they said you didn't answer... so I got worried..." She paused. "I'm sorry for bothering you... but please open up!"
There was no response to her summons. Tsuyu stood stiffly behind her, perfectly silent but watching with a clouded look even the Ultimate Detective couldn't read. Shouto anxiously wrung his hands together. Yaomomo was staring at the door, praying the anxious ravenette would just open his goddamn door because doesn't he know how worried he's making everyone right now? She'd say she was going to yell at him once he came out, but knowing his fragile mental state that was likely a poor decision.
Of course, a dead body wouldn't be able to answer the door, right?
Yaomomo tried to push the intrusive thought out of her head, but she couldn't just forget the possibility. He's not answering... even with Nejire crying at his doorstep. She said he'd never leave his room, which seems about right... so... he's got to be in there...
"TAMAKI!" Nejire's voice cracked as she wailed her companion's name. There were tears in her eyes and she had just about screamed her voice raw. Tsuyu was still as a board; Shouto and Yaomomo exchanged a worried look. "Goddammit, I'm opening the door, you idiot..!"
The bluette grabbed the doorknob, moving to twist it, all of her body weight pulling back as she expected to have to force it open.
The door slid open with ease, the hinges creaking slightly. Nejire yelped and staggered backwards, falling on her behind by Shouto's feet. Tsuyu knelt to help her up; her wide eyes were fixed on the dim interior of the room, fear painted across her expression. She was shaking as she got to her feet; she clutched Tsuyu's hand in her own. "N-No..."
The dormitory lights were off. The chamber seemed completely lifeless. The potted flowers were blossoming, but there were petals and clipped leaves all over the floor. A singular white lily laid on the bed, eerily pristine. There was no hint of anyone being in the bedroom. "H-Hello..?" Nejire called out pitifully. She began to shuffle into the dark space, unwilling to touch even the light switch. The others followed her example. "Tamaki..?"
"Hey, hey... the bathroom..." Yaomomo flinched; Tsuyu's voice was so soft it could've been a ghost's. There was a haunted hollowness in her words as she pointed towards the area in question. "The light..."
Yaomomo snapped her head around to follow her finger. Sure enough, the crack under the bathroom door -which was shut- emitted a strip of stark-white light. Nejire saw, too; she immediately rushed over, practically running into it.
"Hey, Tamaki..." She gulped; her voice trembled. "I-If you're in there... I hope you have g-good reason for not answering me... all this time..!"
She yanked open the door, and the room was flooded with light.
There was nobody in the bathroom.
"Huh?" Confused, Nejire shuffled inside, glancing around, arms crossed fearfully across her chest. "Hello-?"
She turned to face right and blanched. Yaomomo pushed past Shouto and Tsuyu as her eyes widened, lips parted in shock. Her tears overflowed all at once, a river of diamonds rushing down her flushed cheeks.
Yaomomo barely heard her scream, barely heard her collapse onto the cold stone floor, barely heard Shouto and Tsuyu rush in behind her.
She could do nothing but see. Observe the situation like a passerby.
There was nothing they could do now but watch.
A painting of insanity written all over the shower walls, pale ivory dyed pink with splatters and streaks of blood; a poem of horror, smudged but legible, shaky lettering dripping down the smooth tiles.
A body, sitting slumped on the shower floor, dressed in a monochrome suit and pants, the clothes slashed and soaked with hot, sticky magenta fluid, soaked with liquid that made the cloth stick to his skin, to his bony figure, to his mutilated corpse.
A patchwork of cuts, of slashes, a masterpiece of rips in his skin- a veil of weeping, dark slits of eyes all over his wrists, down his arms, across his chest, his stomach, his neck; broken flesh that oozed pink, gushed a river of blood that pooled around his body, soaked him to the core with death, surrounded him in a mist of rust.
A face, his face, ever young and peaceful, framed by midnight-dark tresses, hair streaked with salmon, the blood leaking from a dark ravine in the front and center of his skull, the wound swift and clean and trickling sticky pink liquid down his face, over his closed eyes, eyes that once shone with a thousand galaxies, a hundred stars, a million comets to be wished upon, eyes that were now forever shut in an eternal sleep.
The nebulas were dead.
A knife lay by his bloody hand, the silver blade covered to the hilt in magenta.
"Ta... maki..."
The room was silent, spare for Nejire's ragged, choked sobs. Yaomomo couldn't do anything but stare at the body, because what else was there to do? Cry? Run? She didn't know anymore, didn't know what to do.
Dimly, she heard the monitor bleep to life from the other room.
"A body has been discovered! After a certain amount of time, a class trial will begin!"
Then it was silence all over again. Shouto and Tsuyu hovered, almost nonexistent, behind her. Nejire bawled, sobs ripped out of her throat like a desperate bird's call; a bird who called and sang for their soulmate, a soulmate who lay dead in the streets. She was the bird who kept singing for their return even when the corpse began to rot and gather flies, who called when even the heavens began to weep in mourning, who called and called until she had grown old and weary and even the bones on the asphalt had disintegrated.
It was a cry of longing- a cry of loneliness, of loss, of sorrow, of anger.
"Tamaki..!" A few choked words made their way over Nejire's tongue amidst her sobs. "Wh-Why?! Why... Why would you leave me here all alone..?! I'm so... s-so scared..! P-Please... come back..!"
Tamaki's dead body was still, spare for the blood that dripped from his head.
"I think... I'll go get the others," Shouto stammered out, his voice soft. Yaomomo turned to watch him hurriedly walk back into the bedroom and out the door. He shut it quietly; there was no need to, really. Nejire's wails were loud enough to drown out any sound.
Hitoshi and Denki were summoned swiftly, entering the claustrophobic bathroom to glimpse the body out of sheer human curiosity, because really, only Yaomomo and two other unlucky people had to see the body if it came down to that. The Detective shuffled awkwardly against the sink as the duo gave their due reactions to the cadaver in the blood-coated shower.
"Oh... Oh god..." Denki's voice was a whisper; he seemed breathless, his eyes wide with some sort of unreadable emotion as he gazed upon Tamaki's corpse. On the other hand, Hitoshi was stunned silent.
"Puhuhu... this one's gonna be a fun one." Everyone except Nejire and Tsuyu collectively jumped as a certain robotic bear's voice could be heard just outside the bathroom. Monokuma toddled into the over-crowded room. "Here's your tablet, ya chumps!" He threw the File to Yaomomo. "I'll let y'all investigate now! Toodles!"
With that, the bear was gone.
"W-Well..." Shouto's words were subdued. "Let's... investigate."
Investigation : Start!
"Let's leave Nejire alone for a minute and look at the File," Shouto suggested, looking at the tablet in her hands. "Let's all step out into the bedroom."
Shouto, Yaomomo, Denki, and Hitoshi quickly filed out of the bathroom. Tsuyu hung back to stay at Nejire's side; nobody questioned her. Yaomomo glanced back to see the Swimmer crouch by the bluette but do nothing more to comfort her. I guess she knows best. Maybe Nejire's the type who wants to be left alone.
Yaomomo sighed and turned around. She clicked on the tablet.
Monokuma File VIII
Victim: Tamaki Amajiki
Other Wounds: There are cuts all over his body inflicted by some sort of sharp object.
Weapon: Knife
Yaomomo tapped the screen. "That's it."
"That sure clears things up," Shouto muttered, groaning. "At least we now have the knife as solid evidence."
"Let's investigate this bedroom, then," Hitoshi suggested. "Maybe we'll find something of note."
The four split up into two groups and went to opposite sides of the room. Shouto and Yaomomo began to go through Tamaki's desk, the latter inspecting the drawers. Shouto seemed to have a particular interest in the notepad, squinting at the metal spiral and small sheets of lined paper.
"Shouto?" He looked up as Yaomomo tapped him on the shoulder. "What's so interesting about the notebook?"
Shouto ran his finger over the paper, frowned, and set it down on the desk. He let out a sigh and turned to fully face his investigation partner. "I suspect that Tamaki's death was a suicide," he explained. "The writing on the wall, the cuts that appear self-inflicted down his arms, the knife, the bathroom, everything- it looks like a suicide. I was hoping there'd be a suicide note, or something. That would seal the deal."
"Well, is there?"
"Not in the notepad, no." Shouto picked it back up. "But look here." He held it up for Yaomomo to see. "There's indentations in this paper. That means the top sheet was written on and then torn off, while leaving the traces behind on the next sheet."
Yaomomo ran her fingers over the paper. It was just slightly bumpy, as Shouto said. "If you're correct in it being a suicide, then we should find the actual note nearby."
"Let's keep looking. We'll get it eventually."
The two scoured the rest of the room with Hitoshi and Denki, but found nothing of note. Tamaki's room keys were still there, lying on top of his cabinet. The flowers actually seemed watered and roughly maintained, spare for the fact that some of the petals had been torn from their blossoms and leaves were cut at random. His spare set of clothes were in a drawer. Nothing was missing, and nothing was added.
"It's all so strange..." Denki muttered. "E-Everything... nothing's changed at all, it seems..."
"Let's go back to Nejire," Shouto said, but he was obviously bothered by the lack of evidence, glancing around the room and trailing behind Yaomomo as she strode for the bathroom. On the other hand, the Detective was determined to keep plowing forward; the autopsy had to reveal something, right?
The ravenette peered around the doorframe, silver eyes graced by the sight of Tsuyu sitting with her knees tucked under her at Nejire's side. The latter was still crying profusely in front of the shower, her face buried in her hands and arms, body bent over at the middle as sobs gripped her small figure.
"H-Hey." Nejire took no notice of her as she walked in. "Nejire... um..."
"T-Tamaki..!" Nejire sobbed out her late friend's name. "Have you..?"
She looked up, removing her hands from her face. Tears were running down her flushed cheeks; her eyes were dull as she met Yaomomo's monotonous silver gaze. "Ah... Yaomomo... Y-You want to do the autopsy, r-right?"
"Yeah." Yaomomo was almost hesitant this time around to interrupt their mourning; the bluette had lost so much, seen so much, hurt so much. She didn't deserve this, didn't deserve the death of her last and only friend, her last connection to reality. She was like a lost ship at sea with a broken lighthouse, drifting farther and farther away from land; the least Yaomomo could do would be to let her grieve properly.
But no, she couldn't. Yaomomo was supposed to investigate, poke around the crime scene and unveil every truth without feeling. I'm just cruel, aren't I?
Cynthia's voice echoed in her mind again.
"Thanks for... being my only friend."
A memory of them laughing together, both still being little kids, resurfaced, and Yaomomo found herself thrown down memory lane all of again. They never verbally called each other so, but they were friends in the truest form. They'd laugh together running through the garden while Cynthia's mother, the head maid at the time, pruned the hedges. They'd cry together when either accidentally hurt themselves, whether that was Yaomomo scraping her knee or Cynthia accidentally knocking over a vase in the hallway. She'd been a rather clumsy child, surprisingly.
They'd grown up together; Yaomomo recalled helping her dye her hair on Cynthia's thirteenth birthday, remembered congratulating her when she was promoted to head maid of the mansion. Cynthia, who was supposed to be the impartial maid of the family, had always favored Yaomomo without doubt, without a shred of uncertainty that what she was doing was "improper" as a true maid. She'd celebrated Yaomomo's thirteenth with a kiss on her cheek, telling Yaomomo that she was her best friend. She'd cried tears of joy when Yaomomo got the invitation to U.A.; she might've even been happier than the soon-to-be-hero herself that day.
And in the end, Yaomomo had lost her.
But at the same time, Yaomomo was different from the girl sitting on the bathroom floor before her; she was different in the sense that she still had a lighthouse. She had Fumikage telling her to forgive her with a smile on his face, despite the fact she'd just condemned him to death. She had Shouto at her side, willing to stand by her in an eternal alliance. She had all of the ghosts of the damned, the ghosts of murderers, all twirled around her finger. She was alive, and Nejire wasn't.
Yaomomo would hand over her lighthouse to Nejire, if only she could.
"Hey... Yaomomo?" Tsuyu's small voice cut into her train of thought. "Hello? Yaomomo?"
The ravenette blinked and shook her head, focusing in on the scene before her: a girl with blue hair collapsed on the bathroom floor, staring at her as sobs took hold of her body and diamond droplets flooded from the broken dam that was her lifeless eyes; a girl with blue hair and a certain Tsuyu Asui standing over her.
"Ah. Sorry, Tsu." Yaomomo shuffled forward and knelt down. "I have to do the autopsy."
Nejire stared at her, a light of understanding in her tears. "O-Okay. Go ahead."
She got up on shaky feet. Tsuyu stood by, allowing her to take her hand and exit the too-small bathroom, leaving Yaomomo almost-alone in the room.
"Tamaki, Tamaki, Tamaki..." Yaomomo sighed and turned to the gruesome sight in the shower. "What to do with you..?"
The corpse was silent, of course. Even the blood had stopped flowing at this point. So it's been a few hours, at least. She stepped forward and knelt at the edge of the shower, eyeing up the mess.
At a glance, it was pretty clear that the Monokuma File had gone over all of the obvious injuries. There were horrible slashes crisscrossing down his arms and front, ripping clothes and soaking white sleeves a translucent pink, the cloth stuck to the skin. The wound in his head was dark and had gushed blood; trails of pink ran down Tamaki's peaceful-looking face. He looks... so peaceful...
She blinked, and for a split second she saw not Tamaki, but Cynthia, lying in front of her, puncture wounds hollowing out her body of blood, a smile on her face as she died, ever so sweet and loving to Yaomomo, despite the fact it was Yaomomo's own fault that she died in the first place.
Another blink, and Cynthia became Kyouka, sweet, darling Kyouka, collapsed on the floor, her guts spilling out onto the tile, mangled pink intestines tangled with the slimy sac that once was her stomach, now a deflated-looking balloon that had been mercilessly slashed by the Assassin's trusty blade. Her mismatched violet and scarlet eyes were wide with horror, wide with agony. A choked sound escaped Yaomomo's throat; she blinked again, once, twice, thrice, and suddenly she was back in the bathroom, staring at Tamaki Amajiki's dead body.
Focus, Yaomomo, she chastised herself. Focus. Come on.
Cynthia and Kyouka's haunting faces never quite left her mind, though, as she began to scan the shower walls.
The writing in blood was a mess. The letters were shaky and crooked, but she could make out quite a few of the phrases and words. "'I can't do this,'" Yaomomo read aloud, her voice nothing more than a murmur. "'Kill me.' 'It's so pretty.' 'My sunshine.' 'This shouldn't have happened.'
"'You're going to die.'"
She stared at the last message for a moment longer than the rest, before dragging her eyes away and back to Tamaki's corpse. She leaned forward to begin the autopsy.
Pulling back the slashed sleeves, the many cuts across his arms were clear. "Mmh." Inspecting the wound in his head by sticking her fingers down it, she found her pointer and index quickly buried in the disgusting slimy and slightly squishy grey matter of his brain. This point in the skull right here is a suture... whoever was the one driving this knife must've known that.
Speaking of which, Yaomomo glanced down to the object lying by Tamaki's hand. The silver blade was covered in blood to the hilt; likely from the head wound. She picked it up; it was one of the kitchen knives. Gee. The kitchen's just filled with dangerous stuff, huh?
She set the knife down and began a body check. She was running her fingers along the outside of Tamaki's legs when the Detective's keen ears picked up the sound of crinkling paper. Shouto's words about the notepad were instantly brought to the forefront of her mind; she reached into the pocket and, wouldn't you know it, there was a crumpled piece of blood-speckled notebook paper.
She tugged it free, unfolded the thing, and began to read the tear-splattered paper, the letters shaky and smudged.
'I have decided that I want to die.
Goodbye.
Thank you.'
She scanned over the short note once, twice. It made such a clear sense, yet didn't, all at the same time.
Backing away from the corpse after a few minutes to finish the pat-down, Yaomomo pocketed the note, got up, and approached the sink. The mucus on her fingers was beginning to become nauseating, which said a lot considering the types of investigation she'd done before. Upon approaching the faucet, she found herself staring at the water droplets in the porcelain bowl. Each one, so perfectly pristine, but capable of being washed away in an instant.
Wait.
Water droplets?
She blinked and stared at the sink. "It's been used recently..."
Filing the information away in her head, she turned on the sink and watched the droplets get washed away.
After telling Shouto about the note, him reading over it and giving pretty much the same confused reaction she gave, they only got to investigate for another few minutes before the monitor burst into life, and Monokuma's emotionless eyes were staring down at them.
"Ahem! Please excuse the interruption! Investigation is now over. Please make your way down to the elevator ASAP! See you soon! Puhuhuhu..."
"Eh..?" Shouto's voice was laced with panic. "He... cut investigation time short?"
"..." Yaomomo could only stare blankly up at the monitor. What is he doing..?
Are they trying to actually kill us all off?
No, that can't be right... if they wanted to do that... they would've done that a while ago, after their mole died...
So what are the villains up to this time..?
"I guess we have no choice but to go," Hitoshi drawled. "Come on."
The ragged group of six slowly began to trickle out of the dorm, downstairs and headed for the gilded elevator doors. Tsuyu dragged Nejire along by the hand; Hitoshi walked in step with Denki.
Yaomomo found herself at Shouto's side all over again, walking at his side, perfectly in tandem. I've sometimes wondered... what drew me to him. Maybe it's because we both lost so much that we have only found solace in each other. Maybe because we're both detectives. Or maybe it goes farther back than that; maybe it's because we both came from rich families and were the top of our class, maybe it's because he was the one who supported me when I was weakest.
Whatever the reason, Yaomomo found herself at his hand in the elevator as per usual as it rumbled, forever hell-bound, deeper and deeper below the school.
"Are you ready... this time..?" Shouto's soft murmur of a voice drifted through Yaomomo's earspace, decimating the silence of the space with five simple words. The others ignored him, staring blankly at the door or now whispering among themselves upon seeing Shouto speak out.
"Mmh." Yaomomo hesitated. "I... don't know. All of this... feels so different. The strange death with no clues, the note, the shortened investigation..." And Cynthia, and Eri, dearest Eri, and all the others who were sentenced to meaningless death because of our selfish actions, my selfish actions. "I don't know if we'll solve this one..."
"..." A pause. Shouto regarded her with a steady stare. "It's not like you to be uncertain," he decided at last, turning away once more. "I won't tell you to be optimistic, but I won't tell you to stay down, either. Like it or not, we need you. I need you, you and your calmness and passion in the trial room," he blurted out. "So, erhm... let's try our best, alright?"
"..."
A heavy pause. Silver eyes met mismatched cyan and gray.
Yaomomo allowed a ghost of a smile to tug at her lips.
"Okay."
The elevator slammed to a halt.