There is a special miracle in the birth of a new child. Mechanically it isn't very impressive, at least in comparison into the preceding nine months. A few contractions happen and the baby is extracted from the womb, a simple if intensely painful procedure for the one who has to suffer through the abstraction. Still, there is a perfect stillness in those few seconds before a newborn takes its first breath and all the systems that have lain latent in the womb start to fire up.
In those previous months the future human has been cooked up according to a very random recipe stolen equally from both its maternal and paternal progenitors. That recipe over the nine months of pregnancy has been followed by the cells inside the mother's womb to put together a very important creation. It is in that short nine months that a child's nature is invariably created and it is only after the ten seconds have passed that a child's can begin to be nurtured into a being that is acceptable to both its parents and society. This period of time in which the baby sits between the life in the womb and the life in the world, is the closest thing to death that it will ever likely experience before it takes its dying breath and in these ten seconds it exists as the perfect embodiment of the recipe that it was bequeathed at conception.
The yet as unnamed child sucked in air through his lungs, as his nervous system flared in the cold hospital room and dozens of tiny changes started taking place throughout his body. Of course he was not aware of this as right now he existed in a world of darkness, his muscles weak, his mind slow and his understanding non-existent. The feel of air and skin on his body and the myriad sounds that touched his ears confused the recently born baby but not a word passed his lips as his feeble infant brain subconsciously struggled to decipher meaning in the cacophony. Slowly, achingly slowly the sounds came together into patterns and the touches became textures. His nascent awareness spawned an emotion that could only be compared to curiosity and he fought through the drowsiness to open his eyes.
What he beheld momentarily struck him with wonder and he felt his infant brain briefly struggle to comprehend the wideness of the space, the colours of the walls, and the movement of people. All of this overwhelming information was parsed by his brain in seconds, causing his still developing brain to lock up very briefly. Something like euphoria flooded him as he was turned to look at the face of his mother and his eyes roamed over her visage devouring every little insignificant detail. More sounds were produced by the matriarch; close in tone and frequency to the previous ones and he gasped in wonder at the variety of sounds that were made.
That wonder lasted only a few seconds as the words repeated again and again, with very little variation. He watched as the walls stayed the same, the motions that were so original became predictable and the words repeated. He felt the warm embrace of his mother's arms tighten around him and he briefly gasped at the new sensation before he realised that nothing else was happening. A new, unpleasant feeling swept through his body and he strained his week, infant muscles to try and turn his neck to look back at the moving objects.
"Xxx xxxxxxxxxx xxxxx x xxxxxxxxxxxx," these noises were made by the person who he would later recognize as his male progenitor. For a brief moment they kindled his interest and he came to the realisation that these sounds had a specific meaning. As he tried to decipher purpose from the sounds that they gave off he felt that unpleasant feeling recede into his body.
Later he would be able to identify that unpleasant feeling as boredom. Sometime genetics just fucks you over.
xxx
Makoto Naegi lay on his bed reading one of the advanced text books that university students allegedly read when they wanted to pursue a career in theoretical physics. Despite the unnecessary verbosity of the words and the contradictory nature of some of the displayed hypotheses he found it a decent primer for some of the more in depth theories and he lazily incorporated and discarded concepts into his own model of the universe.
"Makoto, supper is ready," the voice of his mother came from the other room and he closed the now-finished book before placing it in a stack of a few other books with titles such as 'An Advanced Guide to Molecules and their Interactions' 'From Code To Completion: An Experts Guide to Programming' 'The Linguistic Development of Modern Russian' and many other books that boasted expertise on a particular subject, although he often found those boasts empty considering the sheer amount of errors he found in each issue.
Leaving his bedroom he walked with purposeful efficient steps towards the dining room where prior experience told him his parents would be. No deviations from that routine were present today as he saw his mother standing there feeding his little sister on the high chair on which she sat. At the same time his father sat on the other side of the table just dopily watching the events that he had already seen dozens of times before. Just looking at these calm everyday events… was enough to drive a stake of boredom into his heart.
Trying to show none of the distaste that stirred within his body he took a seat before looking at the supper his mother had prepared for him. It was katsudon again and he had long ago grown bored of the familiar taste. He had also long ago grown tired with such a pointlessly unnecessary and ineffective meal. The portions of the food were so large and the required nutrients so imprecise that a sizeable portion was never used for maintenance or growth of the body. Ideas briefly swirled around his head as he realised that given enough time he could probably develop some form of sustenance that was fully integrated into the body. The knock on effects would be an atrophying of certain parts of the digestive system over a few generations as RNA interference prevented the genes for those parts from coming online. It might be fascinating to watch and provide him with a small island of excitement in his oceans of boredom.
"My day was fine father," he said upon seeing his progenitors lips move. The question already asked so many times that to call it stale was to do a disservice to the Japanese language. "I have already consumed all the knowledge contained in the books that I was able to take out. I eagerly await another return to the library or the installation of an internet connection that I may use to peruse additional data at my leisure."
Eager was a bit of an understatement in that regard. As soon as he had learnt to read, which had occurred before his first birthday, he had eagerly devoured information about everything. And every time he had the same reaction, a brief burst of wonder, his brain working flat out for a few seconds before he understood the topic and how it integrated with every other topic he understood. Even this eternal cycle of knowledge and boredom was nearly boring him to tears. He had even tried to further his understanding of the fields beyond the level the books gave him and he had felt a surge of joy before once again crushing boredom overtook him as he attained mastery over those fields beyond that of a normal human or even that of peak experts.
"Still not as good as Makoto's cooking," his father joked to his mother who just looked exasperated before shooting him a worried look. He had cooked for his parents once and his parents had declared it 'the best thing they had ever eaten' and then promptly forbade him from touching the stove or boiling water ever again. They usually tried to be accommodating to his 'strangeness' but they also lay down clear limits on what a person of his years should and shouldn't do.
If he were to be truthful with himself he could constantly state that he despised them, but that was nothing new. He hated his little sister as well who was unable to address him accurately. He loathed the books that were clearly wrong, inaccurate, abridged or otherwise imperfect in such a consistent manner. He detested the predictable shows on the television that his parents could somehow watch and yet not know what was going to happen next. He abhorred this simple, stupid world. So much hatred oozed through his veins that he found himself simply tired of it all.
The idle conversation continued with Makoto listening offhandedly for anything that might seem new and interesting but if he had any hope inside his body it would have been crushed under the sheer mundanity of the conversation. It wasn't until half way through when his father said something that was said that was, well not unpredictable but it did stir ideas inside his head.
"I'm just saying that I wish I could simply turn off my work brain sometimes," he said with a loving smile as he spoke with his wife. "Sometimes I'm just at home relaxing and then a problem I had at the office is running through my head."
"That's not an excuse to draw computer code in Komaru's colouring books dear," his wife said smiling back at him.
"Ignoring father's inability to remember proper syntax," Makoto said moving into the conversation for the first time in a long time. His sudden words got more than a few looks of astonishment; even Komaru was looking amazed that her big brother Mako was talking. "How would one go about 'turning off their brain'?"
"I don't know if anything could turn off your brain," his father said and then his eyes widened and he seemed to panic. "Do not try to actually turn off your brain," he said. "In fact I don't want you messing around with brains at all. I'm serious Makoto."
"Do not worry father I will not mess around with brains as it were," he said truthfully. 'Messing around' was a term with negative connotations and implied a silly, lackadaisical attitude. He did not believe he was capable of 'messing around' if he tried. His father still looked wary but a few more sentences were enough to assure him that Makoto knew of the sanctity of the human brain. From then on the conversation continued as per normal with Makoto swiftly and efficiently eating the inefficient food.
Later that night he pulled out one of his notepads and started to write down every single scrap of knowledge that he had obtained about neuroscience from his research into related fields. It was a lot of information but it would be more efficient to gain more data before he could conduct research on his own. It would have to be done stealthily of course as his parents would not be happy with him conducting research into that field after tonight. In addition while the library that he used was exceptional its information could be a few years out of date. He would have to gain access to an internet café somehow and peruse the latest scholarly articles.
If all went well then in a year or two he would likely be able to shut off certain connections to the portions of his brain that controlled his talent. So much of his life was built around his current state of mind it was likely that he would be a completely different person after the procedure. Honestly the idea of killing him and replacing himself with a talentless copy bothered him less than most people would think. Even more than he hated the whole world he hated himself who proved to be such an inaccurate fit for the world. Like a fish in the desert, this was not a world that catered towards those that possessed talent.
xxx
Makoto rapidly became aware of himself once again. For the first time in his life he found himself absolutely alone with no external stimulus. The last memory that was stored in his brain was that of him performing the experimental procedure on himself. In the end it was remarkably simple and he had managed to complete the procedure in half the time by taking advantage of the brain's unique ability to modify itself.
In the end this was the end result of the procedure. If he was religious he would have likely believed this darks space to be purgatory or belonging to some parallel myth. In reality there were a variety of things that could have happened for him to be in this space. He mentally frowned at the thought of him being in an indefinite coma and all the boredom it would entail but he was broken from his musing by light that entered the void spiking his curiosity. More images came in bursts and suddenly he was seeing, smelling and hearing the familiar sight of a hospital. He observed as his head slightly shifted and he realised instantly that he was not the one currently in control of his body.
"Where am I?" a familiar voice reached Makoto's brain. The intonation was almost precisely the standard voice that he used when not practicing his impersonations or singing. His hand moved up and Makoto concentrated on the feeling. At this current moment he had access to visual, audial, olfactory, senses. His sense of touch and smell as well as his proprioception were currently not working.
Suddenly he heard the door slam open and he watched as his mother and father walked into the room. They took one look at him before their faces contorted in relief and they sprang forward almost as one. His mother knelt down and engulfed him in a hug rocking him back and forth as tears came from her eyes and his father planted his hand upon his shoulder while a fragile smile appeared upon his face. His mother pulled away after a few seconds.
"Don't you ever do that again," she said trying to look angry but failing to contain the look of grief upon her face. It was a predictable boring response. Despite the fact that Makoto was a terrible son she still behaved as a model parent did.
"What did I do Mom," his other self said causing him to pay attention. Did the other Makoto lose his memories? So many of the results of this procedure were against his expectations and he took joy in the fact that his analytical abilities had failed him for once. His progenitors looked towards each other with obvious looks of worry and fear upon their faces before his dad leaned forward.
"Just what can you remember son," he said, his voice calm and steady with an unnoticeable, to anybody but him, note of terror hidden beneath it.
"I…" the other Makoto began with confusion in his voice. "I can't remember anything Dad." His words sounded unsure but it was obvious that he was telling the truth. It appeared that the other Makoto had forgotten his past memories and yet still retained the ability to associate names with prior acquaintances. It was likely he had lost his episodic memory while retaining his semantic memory.
His suspicions were confirmed as his parents spoke to his other self for a long time and it became evident that while he knew about them and Komaru as well as the house that they lived in and certain other facts of their life, he had no memories of actually participating. Interestingly enough the other Makoto had lost several aspects of his procedural memory, which was a direct result of him sealing off his abilities. This was very unusual for a case of retrograde amnesia and this combined with several other clues should provide evidence to any competent doctor that this was not a simple open and shut case.
"He appears to be suffering from retrograde amnesia," the doctor said causing Makoto to scoff and resolve to lower his standards in future.
"Will he recover in future," his mother said and anybody could hear the fear in her voice. From what he could see the new Makoto was much more palatable to their standards than he was, but his parents would obviously not see it that way. Still Makoto predicted that in time they would recover and while they might always feel a slight amount of guilt when thinking about the lost memories they would live a happier life overall. He drifted off into his own thoughts ignoring the chatter from the doctor laying out the inaccurate facts of his condition.
'Could he still control the body,' he wondered before focusing on the nerves of which he had long memorized the names, functions and locations. Proprioception returned to him and he subtly fired off the nerves in his body causing his fist to automatically clench. Instantly the eyes through which he looked aimed at the location of his left hand and they widened. Just as quickly Makoto switched off his influence allowing his replacement to take back control over his hand.
No, not his hand Makoto corrected himself. It was his other's hand right now. He held no grudge about the other Makoto taking over his body. It would have incredibly foolish and hypocritical to do so considering he was entirely in control over the process that lost him control. The body now belonged to the Second Makoto Naegi and he was welcome to it, considering he seemed well equipped to handle the inherent boredom of living a normal life.
With that in mind the First Makoto Naegi sat back and watched as the world went by.
xxx
A glimmer of interest coursed through the First as he watched as another routine day led to the Second tripping over a piece of loose gravel, being hit by a flying baseball and being caught outside in a freak bit of rain. Once again it seemed that the floor, the students and even the weather conspired to prevent the Second from having an incident-free day. Before he lost control over his body he would have exclaimed doubt in the existence of luck and fate, but having such a textbook example in front of him for years would be more than enough to convince even the harshest sceptic.
He had experienced actual joy as he endeavoured to work out how the Second's bad luck functioned and it had taken him far longer than it took to master even most arduous fields to get a relatively modest grasp on the concept of luck. His decision to seal off his talents and in doing so cede the body to the Second was justified on that day alone. He watched as the Second finally reached the gate in his house, soaked over with optimism still in his mind, when all of a sudden he had a premonition.
Premonition wasn't the correct word to be used considering that his foreknowledge was not based upon something as transient as a feeling. As soon as the Second opened up the gate their local canine would run into the streets and the Second would turn and see that there was a car coming down the road that would collide with his treasured pet. Unwisely he would leap into the street and try to protect the creature. He wouldn't die but his estimated time of full recovery would be over four months.
Except none of that would ever get the chance to happen because as soon as the dog darted out the gate, its collar was grabbed by the hand of Makoto Naegi. A second later the car flew by and the Second just stood there gaping at the close shave. After a few more moments of standing there preventing the dog from moving his hand and he regained control over the appendage, letting his dog go free. For a long minute the Second just stared at the traitorous limb as if it was going to do something else before sighing and heading inside.
He cheerfully greeted Komaru, who was home early today for some reason, just sitting and watching the television, before he headed upstairs to his own room, entering his private above before shutting the door and sitting on his bed.
"Can you actually hear me," he said out loud while looking at his hand. "I know you're there. If you can hear me, just wiggle my… our fingers a bit."
The First obliged, very intrigued where this conversation was going. While the Second lacked even a fraction of his own abilities he was by no means slow. In all these years he had only used the Second's body thrice and yet somehow he had deduced that the original self still lay within the dark corners of his mind.
"So you can understand me," he said and there was a subtle undertone of terror in his voice that made the First feel very uneasy. "I'm glad to see I'm not going insane." He took a breath, deeper than required, most likely subconsciously forcing his brain to release endorphins and calm him down. "All these years I felt like there was somebody else in my head and I turned out to be correct."
That was news for the First. While he could sometimes glean his replacements emotions, he did not think that the connection could go two ways. To be more accurate in his dismissal he did not believe that his replacement had the insight required to differentiate his own emotions from that of his other self.
"Are you planning on taking back your body," the Second said, his voice in equal parts dread and determination with a large portion of guilt behind them. "I'm truly sorry but I'm going to have to resist if you are planning on that. This may sound selfish of me, but I don't want to disappear. Also none of my family would be happy if I were to disappear either. I know this body, all that I have, was originally yours but then you gave it up, without even bothering to think about those that cared for and loved you. So If I have to live on as a thief then I can tolerate that."
"You did not steal my body," words were not said but with expert control auditory sensory nerves flared up that lead to the brain. "I gave it to you. I have no intention of ever taking it back. This world you live in is not one to my liking."
The shock in the Second's face was completely obvious. Apparently the combination of the sudden words in his head as well as the inability of his mind to grasp the motivations of the First had momentarily stunned him. That could prove troublesome later. His incapacity to understand that other humans may have different, even alien; viewpoints could lead to problems for him in future if it was not checked.
"So you don't want to take back your body," Second repeated in a predictable manner. After a moment he nodded and First could feel sensations of relief cause physical changes to the body. "Are you happy there?" he continued after a moment. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
It would normally be a ludicrous question. There is nothing that he could do that Second couldn't easily do himself. Still that type of consideration to what was effectively another part of his mind was something that he couldn't call boring. That persistent kindness that the Second Makoto Naegi displayed was almost diametric to the actions he would have taken under those situations.
"Browse the papers and read a few scholarly articles now and again," he said after a moment, not willing to spit on his kindness. While most of those documents were boring and predictable sometimes small insights could be gleaned and expounded upon. In return he would do something he had contemplated for a while and stimulate the body's muscle growth. It would take only a few nerve signals over a period of time to stimulate the muscles, one or two chemicals he could synthesize and ingest to create the perfect balance of red, pink and white muscle; a trivial task for somebody such as him. He would undertake the procedure while the Second was sleeping.
"I can do that," the other Makoto Naegi said in a grateful tone. He leaned back almost falling to his bed. "I never did thank you. I know you had your own motivations. What you did may have hurt my family but it also gave me a chance to live. For that I want to thank you."
His thanks were completely unnecessary but welcomed. His own feelings towards his replacement needed no analysis. Years of watching him, watching how his luck cursed him to have an interesting life, watching how he kept an optimistic outlook through it all, watching how he improved the outlook of those around him; had led him to a realisation that would have proved startling to his younger self. The Second Makoto Naegi was the one person in the world that he didn't hate. In fact he truly loved Makoto Naegi.
xxx
"Hope's Peak Academy," Naegi said, mixed feelings welling up in him as he stood outside the gate to the most prestigious school in Japan. Just over a month ago he had received a letter from Hope's Peak after what was one of the worst days of his life. A few instances of small catastrophes had resulted in mild destruction of property, a spontaneous fire and him missing Maizino's concert and he was 'rewarded' with an invitation to attend Hope's Peak Academy as the Ultimate Lucky Student, in an clearly obvious instance of irony.
His mixed feelings were not only related to the fact that his normal talent was small and inadequate compared to the various other talents that he had cropped up when he had researched the institution; but also the fact that it would be a trivial procedure for the original him to get in; if he cared at all. The other Makoto had told him in that matter of fact tone that he had that all of the other Ultimates were mostly inferior to him within their own sphere of talent. While most would chalk that up to boasting he had seen things over the years that made him suspect that his Alternate had no need to be arrogant.
As a result of close proximity to his Alternate he had become a bit inured to these so-called legendary talents. While it was always amazing to watch a person exercise their natural and practiced ability; it became less so when the talent could be done better by a person to whom it brought absolutely no joy or satisfaction. At least Sayaka for the most part still appeared to take joy in her position as the Ultimate Idol despite her issues.
Speaking of Sayaka, with all the work that she was doing he hadn't managed to see her much in person since middle school and he wondered if the two of them could still consider each other friends. Considering the fact that he hadn't even told her he was accepted to Hope's Peak (although he had known for weeks), he probably couldn't consider their friendship solid for much longer.
Looking at the buildings seriously now, Makoto had to admit that Hope's Peaks Academy campus was actually ridiculously huge, more than four times the size of a normal high school. While this probably meant that they had the best facilities it would mean that it would likely prove difficult to find his way to the necessary orientation. He had arrived relatively early, even for the first day, and so there were very few people about which he might ask.
"Go in through the front door," the familiar voice whispered in his mind. "Take a left, a right and go straight for three classrooms. There should be a set of double doors and behind that is the Main Hall."
"Thanks," he thought, knowing that his Alternate would understand him before he stepped forward. The instructions that he received were followed to the letter and once more he was rewarded for his trust in his other self by his timely arrival at the orientation. Since the Ultimate class had a separate orientation to the Reserve course and he had arrived quite early he found that the area in which they were due to have the orientation was nearly empty with only a smattering of students situated in the area.
"You're here before the start of ceremony on the first day," one of the few students said as he walked up to Makoto. "That is very commendable timing. I am Kiyotaka Ishimaru but you can call me Taka. My title is the Ultimate Moral Compass. Let us have a productive and orderly year at school together."
"Alright," Makoto said slightly overwhelmed by the intensity of the student in front of him. He had already heard of most of the ultimate students attending from the online forums dedicated to Hope's Peak.
"I'm Makoto Naegi, my title isn't as grand as yours I'm afraid. I'm the Ultimate Lucky Student, although my luck is mostly bad actually."
"Your name is Makoto Naegi. That's a good strong name. You should thank your parents for giving you that name," the Moral Compass said. "You should work each day so that you don't let down that name."
Makoto nodded suitably, but the agreement he displayed was more an attempt to get the preseumptous student to back off. The name that he wore wasn't even his originally and its first owner couldn't be less analogous to his name if he tried. Saying a few more words he begged off further conversation, deciding to leave any further discussions with the Ultimate Moral Compass for when it wasn't so early in the morning.
The only other person in the classroom at the moment was a purple-haired girl that he didn't recognize from his research. For whichever reason she had attained no publicity upon entering and that made Makoto wonder if she was also chosen via lottery. A feeling of dismissal echoed through his mind and he realised that his Alternate was giving him an empathic 'No.' Realising that he was never going to understand anything if he didn't speak to her, he made his way up to the lavender girl purposefully ignoring her standoffish posture.
"Hi, my name is Makoto Naegi," he said. "I was chosen as the Ultimate Lucky Student… and you are," he continued after a moment as she stared at him.
"I am Kyoko Kirigiri," she replied after a while as her eyes scrutinized his body closely, seeming to take in every detail. "As for my talent, can you guess?"
"Detective," the bored voice of the original Makoto spoke up before falling silent and Makoto instantly repeated the word that popped up in his mind. That was not probably the best idea as her look immediately became cooler and more scrutinizing.
"And how did you come to that conclusion," she responded sharply.
"It was just a lucky guess," Makoto responded, lying through his teeth. He wasn't even going to begin to try and explain that he had a multiple personality disorder that had grown so bored that he had tried to deliberately alter his brain and ended up creating a talentless persona. "I am the Ultimate Lucky Student after all."
She didn't believe him. Even keeping the emotions out of her face it was obvious that she doubted him, because he was not such a great liar and anybody who would have attained such a title should be able to easily see through him. It was only the slightest hint of narrowed eyes that betrayed her anger at him and Makoto decided to return it with a smile. A detective would naturally show mistrust to those who knew too much and he could only hope that in time it would wear off.
The end of their conversation was mutually decided at that point and Makoto retreated to one of the corners of the room watching as the trickle of Ultimates entered the hall, starting to make the empty area slightly less full. They were a diverse bunch and Makoto felt his interest grow as he looked at them. He had done prior research about them beforehand but all of them did very little to expound on their history and why they had cultivated the talent they did.
His eyes naturally alighted upon a pair of girls who he had heard a lot before that were walking in and Makoto felt a feeling actual surprise from his Alternate for the first time since he had met him. Just at that moment the black haired one, Mukuro Ikusaba, turned towards him and gave him an appraising glare which he unconsciously returned with a smile that caused the girl to flush somewhat.
"Junko Enoshima looks extraordinarily bored," his Alternate said, his words laden with meaning and Makoto focused on the other girl. Junk Enoshima, the Ultimate Fashionista, and a person who had been making the front page of magazines. Her authenticity and genuine love for fashion was the supposed cornerstone of her image as one of the leaders of the fashion world. To hear of boredom so great that even his Alternate called it extraordinary, as if it rivalled his own, was very interesting, and scary in a way.
She noticed him staring and gave him a smile and a sort of mocking wave that elicited a chuckle from him. He was just about to walk up to her and start a conversation when the principal took the stage and Makoto was forced to turn towards him and listen to his speech. It was… different for a lack of a better word.
It said a lot that the word talent was used over thirty-five times in his speech and the word hope was used twenty-six and not in the context of the name of the high school anyway. Apparently the headmaster had a deep belief the power of talent to bring hope to the world or something for some reason that Makoto could not fathom.
To his mind if the world had been so deprived of positivity that it needed to put a bunch of talented students into school in order to keep its spirits up then maybe it should just eat a bullet and put itself out of its misery. Hope's Peak's method of improving the world seemed to lack something that he could not quantify at the moment. Instead of listening to the speech Makoto found himself tuning out the headmasters impassionate speech in lieu of contemplating the nature of the enigmatic Junko Enoshima.
His eyes swivelled as he locked onto her form for a moment before looking away immediately as he caught her own. He hadn't decided to confront her yet and even if he did he didn't know what to say. 'Hey you look as if the whole world bores you to death', that might not go down well. Plus the Ultimate Soldier had apparently latched onto her for some reason that he wasn't aware of and it would be difficult to talk to her alone in any case. He would wait, he decided after thinking for a bit. Time and the mind of his Alternate would allow himself to figure out the Fashionista but right now he had bigger problems to worry about as the speech died with an uninspiring whimper.
xxx
"Makoto you jerk," the Ultimate Pop Sensation said giving him a glare that looked cute on her doll-like features. Sayaka Maizino had practically cornered him as soon as they got into the classroom.
"Hello Sayaka, it's good to see you again," Makoto said somewhat nervously. "I guess it's rather lucky that we met here."
"I told you that I was going to Hope's Peak a few months ago," she said angrily. "And you said absolutely nothing."
"I only knew about it a month ago," Makoto said defensively saying the completely wrong thing.
"You knew for over a month and yet you said nothing," Sayaka said incredulously.
"Surprise," he responded nervously. While he genuinely took some enjoyment from riling up Sayaka he didn't want to cross the line. Still despite looking outwardly angry he could tell that she was quite happy with the situation and so she let it go without too much suffering on his part.
"Incoming Fashionista," his Alternate said and Minato turned slightly to see the blonde haired Gyaru approaching him with a grin that evoked mischief.
"I see you were watching me during the orientation," she said her eyes flickering to Sayaka for a brief moment. "Are we going to have a problem, pervert." For a moment Makoto was taken off guard by her sheer audacity and then despite her damaging accusation he laughed
"Between the two of use I'm not the one who is a pervert, pervert," he said in return placing his hands in his pockets as he smiled at her in response. "You're the type of person who sees a normal healthy situation and just decides to they have to ruin it, aren't you."
"Wow, such a vicious forked tongue you have," the Fashionista said looking surprised for a moment before that spark faded to settle into that smile of hers. "And here's me thinking that you look like one of those herbivore men that don't even have the balls to ask a girl out."
"Hey Sayaka want to go out tonight," Makoto said turning towards the Ultimate Idol with the manner of an earnest suppliant. "I will make it a truly magical evening."
"Nope," Sayaka said instantly with a smirk upon her face. Sayaka had no intention of romance, until she had finished her career as an idol and they had long decided that they were better as friends.
"My heart is truly broken," Makoto said with an approving wink to Sayaka for playing along. "Anyway now that I have been psychologically damaged today, can you tell me why you came over or was it just a general yearning to cause mischief."
"I was looking at an adorable couple and wanted to see how they were doing," Junko said. "But now I'm so blisteringly disappointed. Hey, would you like the honour of taking me out sometime then?"
"No thank you," Makoto replied immediately trying to figure out just what her game was. "I'm afraid I'm not your type. It's not me; it's you and all that."
"Really," Junko said her eyes wide and a wide smile upon on her face. "I didn't take you for a man who enjoyed sausage over clams."
"Well not normally," Makoto said thoughtfully. "But the more I talk to you the more attractive the guys in this room are starting to look." He smiled as he said that, confident enough in his sexuality that he could joke about that.
"Actually I wanted to introduce you to my sister," Junko said with a laugh indicating to the black haired girl a few feet behind her. "She was interested in you but she was too nervous to come."
"Junko!" said girl who Makoto had noticed earlier spoke up, outing herself as the sister and Makoto realised the Fashionista's game. She was attempting to embarrass both himself and her sister, for her amusement or for some other unknown reason. Still his Alternate had wanted to find out more about her and it would be remiss of him if he was to let such an interesting specimen escape from him.
"Why don't you come over for supper tonight," Makoto said ignoring Junko's teasing words. "Both of you," he elaborated. "While I couldn't reach the heights of the Ultimate Cook I am actually a rather excellent chef if I do say so myself."
"I can tell we're just going to be the best of friends," Junko said before turning around. "It's a date then, my sister will be just rapturous."
"I look forward to that," Makoto said with a smile before turning to Sayaka Maizono. "You should stay away from that girl," he whispered to the Ultimate Pop Sensation. "She is not what you think." His words were harsh but necessary, while he found her interesting her projected analytical abilities combined with her manner and demeanour caused his Alternate to instantly label her with a danger of 9+ out of 10, an unprecedentedly high score.
"I am glad to see that your confrontation before was merely trash talking," these words were said by a large incredibly muscled girl who had been standing a short distance away listening to the conversation. "While it is good to engage in banter among comrades you should be wary not to make it personal."
"I always am," Makoto said smiling. "My name is Makoto Naegi by the way. I'm the Ultimate Lucky student apparently. It is a pleasure to meet you."
"I am Sakura Ogami and it is a pleasure to meet as well," Sakura said as she face him before she reached forward poking and prodding at his body. "You have a surprising amount of muscle," she said. "Do you practice any martial arts?"
"Not much," Makoto said. In all honesty the answer was a bit more complicated. His Alternate had taught him a few moves but they weren't from any current martial arts style and he was comparatively terrible at using them.
"Maybe we should spar some time," Ogami said and Makoto nodded before she left to return to her seat.
"Please do not try to disrupt the class further," the Ultimate Moral Compass said said politely before he also left.
"Shall we introduce ourselves to the rest of the class?" he asked Maizino but the idol shook her head, instead undertaking the task of introducing him to all the connections that she had already made.
xxx
"What a class," the second Makoto Naegi spoke to him as he finished chopping up the last portions of the evening meal. "Still they don't seem to be bad people," he continued. "Well I'm not sure about the Ultimate Fashionista."
If anybody had come into look at him at this point in time they would have been surprised to see the lucky student talking to himself. They would have been quite confused but most would likely have written it off as some harmless quirk that the man they knew as Makoto Naegi indulged in.
The First Makoto Naegi analysed the events of the day and the class that he had been placed into. There were numerous physical threats to Makoto, for all the strength in his body his Alternate possessed he had no desire to kill or harm significantly stunting how deadly they would be in the fight. Still due to some of the modifications he made they likely couldn't kill him and any attempt would result in him taking over the body and dispatching the assailant.
"Toko Fukawa is a serial killer," he said softly causing the Second Makoto Naegi to drop the pen that he was writing. Despite his genuine apathy for virtually everything in the world he still took some joy out of seeing the reactions of his Alternate.
"What do you mean?" his Alternate started off by asking the obvious. "Are you serious?" He switched to another self-evident question. "What should I do?"
"Nothing," his Alternate replied and Makoto nodded, understanding immediately what he meant. Everything would be taken care of by the First and any attempt Makoto made would be comparatively clumsy and detrimental. As patronizing as it may have sounded to a third person the Second had never been upset by that statement, instead accepting his limitations and whishing his former self a silent word of thanks.
The doorbell rang at the exact time and Makoto barely had any time to start towards the door before it swung open, somehow unlocked. Without any preamble the Ultimate Fashionista strutted in like she owned the room and collapsed on his couch.
"Man, it's such a boring day," she said in a voice that clearly showed she was tired of all this. "Hey Makoto hurry up with the food will you."
"Here," he said dropping the final plate on the table. Multiple courses had been planned, cooked and set up beforehand only waiting for the palate of the fashionista and her sister the Ultimate Soldier.
"Good evening Makoto," Mukuro Ikusaba said bowing politely. "Thank you for inviting us for dinner." Her movement was stiff and awkward matching her tone and there was a slight, barely noticeable blush on her cheeks.
'Could it be true,' he wondered. The way that his sister spoke implied that she had a crush on him, something that he had never experienced before. The other Makoto remained silent for the moment and so he chose to shelve the statement for now.
"Let's see what so great about all this food," Junko said critically as she stabbed her fork into a plate chosen at random. She chewed a few times before her eyes lit up. "That's sooo gooood," she said drawing out her words. "Are you sure you don't want to try for the Ultimate Cook. It sounds much better than Lucky Student anyway."
"Don't underestimate my luck, Junko," he said. Normally he tended to downplay his fortune, but this girl would likely see through his deceit and he was loath to use it on her in that case.
"Ever one the lotto Lucky Boy," Junko said stopping eating for a moment to comment before diving back in to the food. Besides her Mukuro also ate, slowly at first but with more enthusiasm as she went on.
"No, but I've been selected to go on three television quiz shows," Makoto said. "Made a clean sweep from all of them and got quite a nice package."
"Wow that's pretty good," Junko said somehow managing to talk and yet eat at the same time without it looking unpleasant or disquieting. "And yet you still only got into Hope's Peak by the lottery. So tell me Makoto, What other talents are you hiding?"
"I have no other real talents," Makoto said, a truth for a certain definition of I.
"How boring," Junko said as she finished up one of her plates quickly. "But you don't seem to place a high value on talent do you?"
"Talent is talent," Makoto said; stating a simple and yet worthless fact. "It's what you do with it that matters."
"But don't you find it so alluring," Junko said smiling at him as she placed down the mouthful of food she was about to consume. "How certain individuals can just change the world, make it a better place with just their talent." She said that with a smile and there was a double meaning in her words that Makoto couldn't quite make out.
"That's an illusion," Makoto said firmly, his worldview colliding with hers in a moment. "The world changes not at the whim of extraordinary people but the extraordinary people are empowered by the wills of the masses to bring about change. Unfortunately in history only generals and kings are remembered but the millions of soldiers and administrators who worked to bring change were not."
"That's a very interesting point of view in this neck of the woods," Junko said as she leaned forwards over the table until her face was about a foot away from Makoto's. "Does that mean you think that this whole idea behind Hope's Peak is bullshit?"
"I believe that there heart is in the right place," Makoto said, speaking fancy words that amounted to an affirmative.
"What if I told you that they have spent tremendous amounts of money to create the Ultimate Hope?" Junko said teasingly to him.
"The Ultimate Hope?" Makoto repeated. At the same time there was a sudden burst of dismissal, disappointment and irritation that emanated from his thus far silent Alternate.
"Guess, Lucky Boy?" Junko said, almost excitedly as if waiting for his answer.
"They are trying to create a student with every talent aren't they?" his Alternate spoke through his lips as he stared deeply into Junko's own, devouring every twitch of her face and reading confirmation in every line.
"Wow that was some good guesswork Makoto," Junko said. "And you said you have no talents, you filthy liar." Her words were said with a wink and a cutesy expression despite their ominous tones.
"I guess we are both just good at analysing things aren't we?" Makoto said as his Alternate retreated to just behind his eyes, watching but ready.
"I guess we are," Junko said smiling widely for a single moment and then in the next Makoto was surprised to find one of the sharper table knives directed towards his left eye. His Alternate wasn't and he found his hand rose with a fork in it catching the blade an inch before his eye. The next instant he felt his consciousness fade further as Mukuro lunged across at him and his body moved on its own, catching her knife with one hand and stabbing a needle into her neck with the other. A flick of Makoto's wrist and the knife flew from Mukuro's fingers. The last sight the Second Makoto Naegi saw before his consciousness truly faded was his Alternate laying down the Ultimate Soldier back gently in her chair.
xxx
"Wow, that is quite a bit more talent than I thought," Junko said raising her hands in the universal symbol of surrender. She had stopped moving when the knife had soared past her head, indicating Makoto's ease and willingness to kill her. However even as she spoke in capitulation she lost none of her excitement and it was obvious she was still analysing the situation, trying to get an advantage. "You must really dislike yourself."
"More than you know," the First Makoto said as he finished taking the soldier's vitals. The needle contained a special anaesthesia had made and while he had perfectly calculated the dosage for the specific weight and age of Mukuro he would not count out his Alternate's luck screwing him over."
"Oh, oh let me guess," Junko said raising a finger to her cheek. "It's Multiple Personality Disorder again. How boring," she sighed. It's not as if one in our class wasn't enough."
"Do not lump us together with the serial killer," Makoto said brusquely. "I have no intention of killing you currently but if you act to bring harm to my Other Self again that will change immediately. Do we have an accord?"
"Can I still mess with him," Junko asked, daringly considering her current situation.
"There is an exceptionally thin line upon which your life rests Enoshima," the First said. "I urge you to err on the side of caution."
"Nothing was ever accomplished by being cautious Makoto," Junko said. "You need to learn to live a little.
"You will certainly live a little if you overstep your bounds," the First Makoto Naegi said. "She will wake up in three more minutes. Try not to damage any more of my cutlery by then."
Makoto would love to say that the next three minutes were full of awkward silence. Unfortunately it was too much to hope for and he found that Junko had a wide range of topics to discuss namely her disappointing sister, his Alternate Self, the fact that she caught his Alternate Self inspecting her disappointing sister's posterior. That last fact was unfortunately true and while the Second Makoto Naegi had tried to be discreet it was a lost cause when in the presence of both him and Junko.
Eventually Mukuro woke up had almost embarrassingly apologized to Makoto for attacking him. A silent nod was his response, it was only natural that he felt a simmering anger towards anybody who would hurt his Alternate, but he would wait and use her actions today as leverage for gains tomorrow.
"I'll be seeing you around Makoto," Junko said as she waved goodbye to him. "I have the feeling that this is going to be the start of a beautiful relationship."
Makoto's response was rather elegant in its simplicity, as with a single finger he displayed exactly what he thought of any relationship with the dangerous Fashionista. Seeing the door close and his guests depart he walked up to the leftovers of the meal that lay uneaten, and in an impossibly short time, he disposed of them as well as returned both the table, cutlery and associated damaged items back to their prime conditions, free of damage or dirt.
As a last errand for the day, he took out a few syringes from a sealed metal box and went to speak to an author about her unhealthy hobby.
Author Note: This was the story that originally inspired Con Sealed Hope. I had written quite a bit before I switched to that story and I decided that I should at least publish my efforts.