ACT 2: NO SMOKE WITHOUT FIRE

Chapter 3: To cure all wellness

History of despair

Part 3

A sickening discovery

For most people, the hospital was one of the last places they wanted to be in. People only went to the hospital when something was wrong but not too horrifically wrong (in which case, the morgue was the more likely destination). It was only human nature that no one wanted to be injured or sick; not only would that compromise their livelihood, but sometimes even their lives as well. By extension, no one wanted to see their loved ones injured or sick. And even further than that, no one wanted to see anyone injured or sick, lest they were reminded how horrible it was to suffer from health decline themselves.

But Inori loved the hospital. It was home to her not by her own choice, but after living there for so many years, she had made it so. Though the death of her parents and almost every person close to her when the strange disease struck her village still left a scar on her mentality, Inori refused to show it outwards and maintained an optimism towards life that caught the entire hospital, doctors, and patients alike, by surprise. While most would find only misery being admitted to a hospital, Inori found joy.

As a permanent resident of Kamakura Hospital, a place named after one of the greatest researchers and most famous philanthropists in the history of Japan, Inori had become a sort of like an integral part of it. When she first arrived, she didn't get out of bed much and spent her entire days all by herself looking at the birds outside the window and waiting for the doctors' next instruction. That got boring very quickly and so she, with permission from the hospital's head office after carefully reviewing her condition, started wandering around the hospital without being able to leave it. She conversed with many doctors, patients, and their family members, making many friends in the process, some of whom she sadly outlived even in her youth. After complaints from the staff manager, she was no longer allowed to speak with other patients for fear of disturbing them, though it was more likely the manager did not share Inori's bright outlook if life and was reluctant to have other terminally-ill patients also think that way.

Though she could not actively speak to patients and their relatives anymore, Inori maintained a good rapport with the doctors and nurses. Through them, she had not only learned about medicine and surgery but also mastered them to the point she could become a doctor herself after taking a college course. She even took part in several operations when there were not enough surgeons to perform. Eventually, the prestigious Hope's Peak Academy noticed her talent and offered her a scholarship with an allowance from the Kamakura Hospital, one of the school's subsidiaries which specialized in medical research, to finally leave the hospital and attend schools like a normal girl. Now, Inori's dream to become a doctor was no longer just a dream, it was a certainty. Finally, she could repay the kindness of the staff of Kamakura Hospital by becoming a doctor herself and she would strive to make sure no one suffered the same fate as her.

In short, Inori loved the hospital. And so far it had loved her in return.

But tonight, she was not so sure of it anymore.

It all started when she woke up in the dead of the night during her summer break. With every passing year, the disease Inori carried wracked her body a little more. First came low blood pressure which prevented her from doing any hard work. Then, it was chronic pancreatitis. This condition could not be cured and only got worse over time, leading to some permanent damage. And the latest form of torment the disease had for her was amnesia. Though she never mentioned out loud, Inori wondered if the disease could not kill her, how long it would take for its symptoms to finally break her.

Shoving all morbid thoughts aside, Inori felt thirsty and wanted some milk to drink. The doctors recommended at least two deciliters of milk every day to prevent the spreading of her illness. She thought about calling for the nurse but decided to take the walk to the kitchen instead. After living in the hospital for eleven years with all the expenses paid for by the Kamakura Hospital Research Fund, Inori was allowed access to most of its facilities much like any doctor or nurse with the exception of the basement where only authorized personnel were allowed.

Still in her pajamas, Inori slipped into her bunny slippers and simply walked out of her room. At this point, the hospital was more like a dormitory for her to stay rather than a place for her to receive treatment, and no longer was she attached to wires and machines that made beeping noises while displaying her vital signs. The hallway was well-lit and mostly quiet with a few relatives staying overnight. The doctors continued their work tirelessly as always; if death worked 24/7, then they must be ready at all times.

As she walked along the corridor, Inori suddenly noticed a particular overwhelming smell, one she was once familiar with but had since mostly forgotten. She stopped in her track and made use of her nose. Many other people around her covered their nose in disgust. With a rude awakening, Inori realized the smell resembled her deceased parents. The disease didn't just kill them, it warped their bodies, blackened the skin, and caused them to emit a horrid odor that would scare away skulks.

And now that very smell was in the hospital.

At the intersection, Inori faintly saw a line of several people wearing protective suits carrying bodies on stretchers, each covered in a white blanket. One dead person's hand could be seen, it was black but there was no burn mark whatsoever.

Inori's heart sank. When her village was wiped out from existence, she thought it was the last she would see of this plague. Now, it was back. After so long, the nightmare had returned and more people were suffering from it.

As the people in protective suits left, Inori rushed over to Yuuhei Yamada's office without delay. Out of all the staff of Kamakura Hospital, he was like a surrogate father to Inori. If there was anything the problem, he would be the one she sought out for. Like Inori, Yamada had made the hospital his permanent residence after losing his wife to cancer several years ago and would usually stay in his private office overnight working on his research. Though he explicitly forbade anyone from entering his office after midnight, Inori deemed this an emergency and hoped for his understanding. The doctor needed to know about this development. After all, he had shown the most interest in studying her condition so far.

Inori stopped in front of the office's door when she heard people were talking inside. If Yamada was taking visitors this early in the morning, then it must be serious. Perhaps they were talking about the re-emergence of the plague itself. Inori was aware of the strict hierarchy in this place and knew better than to disturb this conversation between a senior doctor and his guest. As she was about to leave, Yamada's exasperated voice shouted from within the office, inciting her curiosity as to what or who he was talking with. Against herself, she decided to stick around to listen to the conversation inside.

"Just give me more time," Yamada pleaded. "I am almost finished. It will be perfect as I promised."

"I am afraid the blackened corpses we just took out from the basement speak otherwise," said a woman. Inori recognized that voice. It belonged to Mikan Tsumiki, the Ultimate Nurse of Hope's Peak Academy. Inori got along well with Mikan due to the inherent connection of their talents and found that the latter was kind but extremely shy in front of others. Neither quality was in her voice this time, however. She sounded almost like a different person, her speech dead serious in content yet delivered in a manner as if her mind was still in her dreams while talking. "We are both running out of time here. How long will it take for people to realize their relatives didn't die of the illness they were diagnosed with when they were admitted to this hospital? As for me, my beloved will not be pleased if I cannot bring her the result she so despairingly needs."

"I assure you," Yamada insisted, "this Hayashi girl is the key to my research. I have learned everything I need. The successful application of such knowledge is the eventual result. One more week and the weapon shall be ready. In the meantime, I need Enoshima to continue covering for me so that I could finish this project. Already, I am hearing they might send an investigation team. If I am exposed, you too will be implicated." Inori was taken aback. While she always knew the fact no other illness could affect her as long as her current disease was in place had been a subject of much research, she had never thought it would have a military purpose. Also, what could justify Yamada putting those people to death, even if they were going to die of other sicknesses anyway, without the knowledge of their relatives? There were ethic codes regarding taboos a practitioner of medicine must avoid at all costs, and this was one of them. Was this even the Yuuhei Yamada she knew and loved anymore?

"My beloved is ready to begin the next part of her plan," said Mikan in a drunken voice. "She cannot wait for you much longer. With or without your research, the plan must go on. Like life itself, despair must go on."

"Don't you understand at all?" asked Yamada, aghast. "If you intend on going ahead with your bioweapon, and it is as contagious as you said, we will ALL die, not just whatever enemy you are using it on. Surely your master understands the importance of my research."

"There is no shame in laying down one's life for Enoshima," said the Ultimate Nurse coldly. "You will know that soon enough."

Inori had heard enough. She wished this was all a hallucination caused by her disease, another of its already many symptoms that continually plagued her from time to time, for it was too horrifying to be true. She knew these two people well and could not believe either of them would say such things. Her illness used as research for a complementary to a deadly bioweapon? Mikan showing such negligence towards the safety of others?

For several moments, Inori stood outside the office, stupefied. Then, a hand was placed on her shoulder, startling her.

"Why are you still up this late?" asked Doctor Ayaka, giving her every-warm smile. "And what are you doing out here? Yamada-san doesn't like being disturbed at this hour, you know?"

"I…, I…," Inori stuttered.

"Who's there?" Yamada's voice came out from inside the office.

Without thinking, Inori fled as fast as she could with her frail body. Everything Yamada taught her, all the love and care he showed to her, the bond they created and fostered for over a decade to the point the two were almost like father and daughter, they were nothing but lies. Yamada was dealing with a dark force that planned on developing a bioweapon, and Inori held the key to Yamada's bargain. She had to get out of here as fast as she could. She had to warn others about this, but who could she even trust now when both her surrogate father and her best friend were in on this scheme together?

As she reached the door which led to outside, a pair of hands seized her mouth and chest, pulling her back. Inori tried to scream but no sound came out. Both her slippers flew off as she thrashed in vain against her assailant. The next thing Inori knew was the pain from injection to the side of her neck, followed by the feeling of a thick liquid pumped directly into her vein.

"Good night, sweeties," said Mikan Tsumiki in a honey-like voice. The Ultimate Nurse held the Ultimate Patient with an unshakable, inescapable grip. It was a display of strength Inori never thought was possible for a girl who was always so prone to accidents and bullying to muster.

Inori's eyes were teary as she lost consciousness. For the first time in ten years, she wished she could just lie down and die right now.

Day 6

Tartarus Keep

Library

15:00

"So, let me get this straight," said El Viento after finally calming down. "Amelda here is not going to turn into a zombie and eat our brain. Is that right?"

"Oh, cuh-me on," I said. This was the second time in my spontaneous hemorrhage materialized in front of my classmates and scared the ever-living shit out of them since the beginning of the Mutual Killing Game. I was both frustrated and embarrassed at the same time. To make matters worse, El Viento still insisted on removing my head despite being explained no fewer than five times about my peculiar condition. I hated to demean other people, perhaps Eliza had shown some wisdom when calling her all brawl and no brain. The blood clogged in my mouth made impeded my speech, making the words come out as awkward and unintelligible. "Ow many thimes do we whave to reffeat dat?"

"Easy there, buddy," Fitzgerald assured me. "No need to say anything. We got you."

"I don't think Amelda could have been bitten," said Hokuto. "He was at the back with the rest of you, remember? Only I was the one who approached that zombie I thought dead."

"I didn't see any other z-z-z-zombie in that d-d-d-dungeon," Tatsuya stuttered. "It was dark but we had sufficient light with our tablets. There was no way we could have been a-a-a-assaulted without any of us noticing."

"True," El Viento mused. "Sorry there, Amelda. My mistake. Damn, if people didn't stop me, I would have ripped out your head for sure. And then I would become a murder which you will vote to be executed." That was awfully blunt. Then again, maybe I deserved that after all for trying to convince the Ultimate Wrestler to do the same to Inori the first time we met out of the same misunderstanding. "All of this is making it hard for me to think clearly."

"Serious, did you get dropped on the head when you were born?" asked Eliza derisively. "You too, Hokuto, stop fucking trying to kill us. A murderous bear is enough. A murderous bear and a prone-to-lethal-accident miner, that's one hell of a combo."

"Hey, stop berating me," Hokuto retaliated. "I got out of stickier situations before. I just… didn't know you guys would be dragged into it. Sorry about that."

"Right," Rin confirmed. "False alarm. No need to panic. Everything is alright."

"How is everything alright?" demanded Yume urgently. Seeing him so fessed up made me flush. I was twenty years old, for God's sake, not to mention all the muscles and knowledge I had obtained; I should be able to take care of myself at this point. "He might not turn into a zombie anytime soon, but he's bleeding to death here. We've got to do something. Is there anything we can do to stem the bleeding?"

"Why not use your magic?" Eliza suggested sarcastically.

"Uhmmm," Yume pondered, fidgeting. "See, I'm…. not that good with my magic. Small injuries I can take care of, but this is… admittedly beyond what I can do. I fear my tampering with it might create an offset that would lead to permanent damage. My sister can heal it without any issue, though, I am sure of it."

"Should we call Inori for this?" El Viento suggested. "She might be up right now. I can go check up on her."

"No," I told her, taking a slurp to swallow up the blood in my mouth. "It's fine. It has been happening to me for a long time. It goes away after a few minutes. There's no real danger to be had. Still, no doctor has been able to cure it."

"Well, if you say so," El Viento conceded.

"Amelda," said Minako. "Do you still have the medicine I gave you?"

"Oh, right, I forgot about that," I told her as I took out a knot of herb from my pocket. Though I did not believe when she gave to me that I would be needing them, I still kept the herbs in my pocket all the time as a totem of our friendship. Besides, as an accountant, risks mattered regardless of how small they were and in the unlikely event that my once-a-month male period started again soon, I might require it. As it turned out, this precaution was far from redundant. Another pocket of my jacket contained the bullets Fitzgerald gave to me which the Ultimate Private Detective explicitly demanded that I had with me all the time. "Thanks for that."

I took one of the herbal doses. It tasted as bad as I remembered, but the effect was immediate. Suddenly I was not feeling any upward pressure in my throat anymore and the blood flow from my ears, nose, and mouth all stopped at once.

"You're better now?" asked Fitzgerald.

"Yeah," I replied, standing up and wiping all the blood from my face with a tissue. "Much better now. Thank you for that, Minako. You're really a life-saver."

"You are… welcome," said Minako, blushing at my compliment.

"Maybe you should start praying to Mother Earth, Yume," said Eliza. "Looks like she's way more powerful than you are."

"I will gladly do so," Yume agreed, oblivious to the Ultimate Tinker's sarcasm. "Minako, I would like to join your religion. Perhaps she could help me unlock my full magical power. Is that okay?"

"Of course," Minako beamed happily at the prospect of converting one of her friends. "Mother Earth opens her arms to embrace all. Come to this dinner. I will teach you everything about her."

"Now that we've gotten Mason sorted out," Fitzgerald cut in. "And Yume here has found a new religion. What are we supposed to do with the dungeon?"

"There are z-z-z-zombies in it," said Tatsuya frightfully. "We saw two of them, but we can't be sure there aren't more. Personally, I'm not going down there as long as I live."

"I agree with that," said El Viento. "The dungeon reeks of evil. Monokuma might not be responsible for that, but whoever owned Tartarus Keep before he moved in was equally twisted. We should stay away from the basement as best we can."

"And seal off the entrance as well," I added. Whatever prize awaiting us down there was not worth risking our lives to the living dead again. "If there are more zombies down there, we must not allow them to leave the dungeon to attack us."

"Wait, you can't be serious," said Hokuto. "Now that we know what's in that basement, we could mount a prepared expedition next time and…"

"And loot the treasure from the dead after?" Rin barked. "Come on, Hokuto. No one is going down there as long as I'm around, and includes you. You saw those zombies, right? Those were the ones who took Kazuki. They dragged him into that lake and devoured him. You want the same thing to happen to you?"

"There could still be a way out down there," Hokuto persisted. "Monokuma himself said he didn't know what was down there."

"But is it worth losing our lives for it?" asked El Viento. "I think not. I won't be saving your ass next time you get yourself into trouble. I am bound by the wrestlers' honor to defend the weak, not the foolhardy."

"I go with Amelda," said Yume. "My magic only works on living. I am powerless against something that is already dead."

"Me too," Minako seconded. "The circle of life and death is sacred, for without it no species can grow and evolve. Breaking the circle like that is… abhorrent." The Ultimate Herbalist was uncomfortable with saying the last word, her eyes zeroing on the faces of others and then at her fidgeting bare toes.

"That's six against one, Hokuto," Eliza pointed out. "I don't need to voice my opinion to change the outcome of the vote. But if I were to, I probably wouldn't agree with going down there as well. This keep has everything we need. Why must we enter that dark and creepy place only to get killed?"

The Ultimate Miner sighed in defeat. "Fine. Have it your way."

"So it is settled then," said Fitzgerald. As I began to notice, the Ultimate Private Detective had the tendency of stealing the moment: just as he opened up this topic, he was the one who concluded it. "The passage will be blocked for the time being. As far we are concerned, this is not the lebensraum Monokuma promised us."

With that, we closed off the tunnel entrance and used a desk to further block it from being opened from within. The switch on the bookshelf that triggered it was also marked with a paper saying "Do not touch" so that no one would unknowingly pull the book that potentially gave way to an undead incursion. Hokuto was rather disappointed that he came out from the venture empty-handed where I thought he should be content with keeping his life.

After that, it was my turn to leave. I thought things would quiet down a bit now that we had left the first murder and trial behind and Monokuma had yet to announce the next part of his evil plot to make us kill each other again; I was wrong. Fitzgerald's unexpected assault (combat training), the encounter with the zombies, and the return of my hemorrhage, all of these weighted down heavily on me. I needed some rest. Besides, I had the book I wanted and could only read it in solitary, something only my room could offer at the moment.

16:00

As I exited the library, I saw Inori making her way across the hallway carrying a large basket of laundry containing not just her stuff but everybody's clothes over the last five days. The Ultimate Patient was clearly struggling with the cargo as she walked on uneven steps, swerving left and right while trying her best not to fall down. While I was glad to see her recover, this was not a burden someone with a frail body like her should bear.

"Let me help with that," I said to her.

"I…I can…," Inori replied shakily as she continued her struggle to maintain balance. It was amazing that even in her current state, the Ultimate Patient still insisted on acting strong. Though I admired her optimism and positive outlook towards her condition as opposed to my cynicism, being too headstrong always led to more harm than good done.

"I am not suggesting," I repeated and helped her with the basket. Due to my injury, I could only lend one hand. I had always taken having two good hands for granted; now I knew what it felt like having only one and the difficulties in going on with my daily life with that. Still, it was enough to alleviate the weight Inori had to lift.

"Uh, thanks," said Inori. "I thought my hands would break anytime soon."

"How are you feeling?" I asked. "You fainted during the trial."

"Much better now," Inori replied. "I'm not used to standing in one place for so long. My body couldn't take it. And that execution, I…I…"

"I see," I cut in as Inori's voice seemed to drift elsewhere. "We were all shaken by that, not just you. Let's hope there'll never come another murder or trial."

Inori nodded. "Yeah. I feel bad for them, though, Kazuki and Akihiko. They died when they still had their lives still ahead of them. My life, on the other hand, is already forsaken before the killing game began. It would have been better if I were the sacrificial lamb instead."

"Don't say that," I countered, placing my injured hand on Inori's shoulder. I had no idea what to say about this as my blunt attitude made me a terrible person to speak to in this kind of situation. "Kazuki knew about the consequences of this action and accepted it in the end. He might be a vicious killer but we should still respect his decision to sacrifice himself for the release of the hostages. As for Akihiko, he was just unlucky. But that's how fate works. Bad things happen and there is nothing you or anyone can do about it. You can't blame yourself for something God has set into motion."

"I know," said Inori. "I'm sorry. It wasn't characteristic of me saying such morbidity. We all have to move on. I have to move on, just as I had when my village was destroyed by the plague." The Ultimate Patient finished with a warm smile.

"These are not just your stuff, aren't they?" I asked pointing at the basket we were holding. "Why are you carrying them?"

"Well, when I woke up I tried to go to the main hall but nobody was there," said Inori. "I panicked. I thought everybody had mysteriously disappeared. Then Monokuma turned up and told me about the new area we were given access to. I asked him if there was any place where I could wash and dry my laundry and fortunately, he said yes."

"That's very diligent of you," I told her. This was a problem I had nearly forgotten. True, the pile of dirty laundry in my room was getting to the point where it was more than just a stain on the landscape; it was becoming an actual hazard. I could wash all those clothes with some soap in my bathroom, but this was an inefficient way of doing so and there was still no place to hang them out for drying (as a city person, I didn't trust the botanical garden even without the mutated plants). "The laundry room as part of the new area is a godsend. I was wondering how to handle all that dirty laundry before my room turns into a pig's den. Still, why are you carrying all of our clothes?"

"Monokuma told me he forgot to tell you guys to do your own washing," Inori explained. "He also said he was too busy with something else at the moment, so he asked me to take them all to the laundry room instead. He dislikes seeing all those piles of dirty clothes in our rooms, I suppose you do as well, and his viewers are also complaining. From now on, you guys should do your own laundry, or the overlord will be very displeased." Judging from the way she addressed our liege, Inori seemed to have nothing but respect towards his power without ever asking whether he deserved it. Then again, the Japanese were full of social hierarchy norms that were echoes from a long history of feudalism, something the USA was thankfully without. Losing both her parents at a young age, Inori might have been raised in a rigorous environment where non-family authority was to be unquestionably adhered to.

"He should have asked someone else for it," I said. Anyone else with the exception of Inu could have been a better candidate for this kind of lifting job. However, if what Inori said was true (the bear had never lied before), then that brought another question to Monokuma's omnipotence. The fact he was too busy to inform this to everybody himself, meaning his inability to be everywhere and do everything at the same time. The fact he was, in a way, influenced by the opinions of his viewers, whoever they were. I wondered if we could one day exploit them; as of right now, though, he remained as untouchable as ever.

"There was no one else around," Inori pointed out. "As I have said, Monokuma couldn't hang around for long and I was the only person whom he could reach after relieving our living spaces from the contamination that is the dirty laundry. Besides, I'm fine with this. Really. I like being helpful to my friends. You helped me before, Amelda, when I dropped my pills. I would like to thank you again for helping me carry this."

"So you are fine with this?" I asked. Apparently, my impression of her so far had been shallow and my pity unnecessary. Inori, like many other of my friends here, came from a rough background, yet she was not defeated by it and instead found a way to move on with her life. I now felt jealous: I had not moved on with my own life ever since Rebecca died.

Inori gave me a bright twinkle which made her face akin to a cute little puppy. "Of course."

Laundry room

16:00

The laundry room was everything I expected to see in a laundry shop. Washing machines lined up the wall to the left and dryers to the right. Since this was a castle where normally hundreds if not thousands of people lived in, there were two dozens of each. At the opposite side of the room were packages of washing powders all bearing the images of Monokuma much like most other items in this castle that were not fixed to the foundation. All in all, this was the most plain-looking and practical room so far, even more than the warehouse. To be fair, Monokuma might have added this room out of popular demand without having it fully prepared. Then again, this was a laundry room, was I hoping to see a dragon in here?

"Monokuma told me to separate the clothes for each of us," Inori began. "That way, everyone would not receive another's clothes. The Overlord doesn't like it when things get mixed up since he can't remember our faces well. The clothing is all he has to distinguish between us."

"Never thought he would be so diligent to his subjects," I said, pondering. "Then again, we did what he wanted. We gave him a murder case and one hell of a trial. He said he wished to reward us for our effort."

And so we unloaded the clothes from the basket. Luckily for us, Monokuma made the effort of stamping a note with the owner's name of each piece of garment, making it easier for us to sort them out. Unluckily for us, seeing what our friends wear underneath with the ability to pin down to exactly who was wearing them was quite an embarrassing experience. I almost did not recognize Yume's underwear. It looked like something a five-year-old would wear as it was filled with colorful pictures of hearts and stars. Inori blushed madly when I found her panties out of an accident and snatched it from me immediately. There were several wrestling masks in the bunch all labeled El Viento who never showed her real face in public. There was also a lack of any underwear labeled her. How bold and foolish!

"Oh my god," I muttered to myself as I stared at the panties belong to Minako in front of me. It was a famous brand that made garments out of eco-friendly materials, but rumors had it they were too busy protecting the environment not paying enough attention to human physiology. Notably, several Harvard research had shown a strong correlation between wearing their underwear and irresistible pelvic itching among women. I was conflicted.

Should I tell Minako this cold, hard truth that wearing these panties risked a skin infection?

How would she react to this? More importantly, what could she do if my fear was correct? All her panties were undoubtedly the same; Monokuma gave us carbon-copied versions of our favorite clothes.

Who was right, environmentalists or Harvard professors? Overlord Monokuma or Ultimate Accountant Amelda Douglas Mason?

Why was I brooding from looking at people's underwear?

"Are you alright, Amelda?" asked Inori. "You have been looking at it a bit too closely. Is there something wrong with it?"

"No," I replied quickly, throwing the panties into the washing machine alongside the rest of Minako's clothes which were mostly simple and excluded any sock. My face blushed. I cursed myself for letting her see that. Now she might think I was into that kind of stuff, which I was until a new fashion model based on World War 2 British Royal Commandoes caused (share) price of underwear to drop, making it an unfavorable venture for investors. "I mean, I hope not. You can't trust everything they say from Harvard."

Inori's expression told me she was more confused by my answer than anything else. I regretted letting those words slip my mouth. "I see," she said finally. Her eyes widened as she saw the red stain on my jacket. "Amelda, there is blood on your jacket. Is that yours? What happened?"

Inori started to panic fearing another killing had taken place. I tried to calm her down before all stress literally destroyed her. "It's mine alright," I said quickly. "I'm better now, thanks to Minako's herbs. Don't worry. It's nothing serious."

"Thank goodness," said Inori.

"It's not like I'm going to die and turn into some zombie or anything," I continued. I didn't mean it to be much of a joke considering El Viento was this close to ripping off my head for that, but Inori chuckled heartily nevertheless. "What's so funny?"

"You are really into zombies, aren't you?" Inori commented. "When we first met, you thought I was one." I had thought about that as well and found I was not the minority in the USA to have a fondness for dead things that came back to life to devour the living. I had read several studies about it (whenever I saw a cool subject, I immediately did research) and could explain how one of the greatest sources of entertainment for Americans was actually the euphemism of their greatest fear. However, this answer would be too long and full of social and religious commentaries, so I chose the easy way out, one that didn't involve lying blatantly.

"Zombies make good businesses," I told her. "Good businesses want good accountants and financial advisors."

With all that awkwardness out of the way, we went on with loading the washing machines with the laundry. Kazuki and Akihiko's clothes were not here; I knew for a fact those two had dirty laundry, but since no one was going to wear it anyway, we might as well leave it alone. After all the clothes were in, we added the washing powder and started the machines. Now, it was time to wait.

And perhaps for some talk.

Hang out with Inori Hayashi?

Yeah, sure/Not now

"Thanks again for patching me up," Amelda began. "How long will it take before I can regain its usage? It's kinda difficult to kill people with one hand, you know unless you are Hellboy or something?"

Amelda held out his bandaged hand and Inori examined it.

"I hope it doesn't come to that," Inori giggled. "Luckily for you, the wound is not too serious. I reckon you will only need a couple of days more to move it normally again. Still, don't push it. Just give it a rest for the time being, and postpone whatever murderous plot you have on your mind. Otherwise, you risk permanent impairments."

"I won't," Amelda smiled. "Anyway, Inori, may I ask when you came down with this disease? How long have I been fighting it?"

"The plague wiped out my whole village when I was only eight," Inori replied. "It has been a while, hasn't it? Time sure flies. People keep telling me I would die young, and here I am still talking to you."

"How did it feel like when it happened?" Amelda asked.

Inori shrugged. "I never knew how it came. Even now, I don't have the slightest idea. I remember waking up one day and went down to the kitchen but saw no breakfast prepared. I was a spoiled child back then, so I called my parents' room and they told me they were not feeling well and I should come over to Owari-san's house for something to eat. Owari-san was my neighbor and he owned a restaurant. I was frustrated, which was not very polite of me, I know. So Owari-san fed me breakfast that day. And then lunch. And then dinner. The food was all I could focus on back then - the rest simply beyond my ability to comprehend. The next day, they declared my parents had passed away due to illness. I remember not crying at the funeral, only staring in shock as they lowered my parents' casket to the ground. I didn't even get to see the bodies."

"That's very sad," Amelda said. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Owari-san took care of me after that and after a week, he died for the same reason," Inori continued. "Apparently, he caught the disease at the same time as my parent, only showing the symptoms later. By the time I realized the whole village was infected, there was nothing left to do but watch as each person followed the other to the grave. One month after my parents' death, people wearing hazmat suits entered the village. I was the sole survivor."

"Must have been very hard accepting it," said Amelda.

"It was," Inori nodded. "For a while, I keep having dreams about it. I sometimes hear the voices of the dead. The doctors said they were symptoms of the disease and nothing more. I got over it after a while."

"How is it that this is the first time I hear about this?" Amelda asked. "I mean, if an entire village is destroyed by an unknown disease, surely this would have made some headlines. Do you think there was a coverup?"

"I don't know," Inori replied.

"Do you think it could have been a biological attack?" Amelda continued.

Inori shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I'm just in the dark as much as you are."

Amelda changed the subject. "You said they did many tests on you, didn't they? Because you were immune to all other kinds of sickness?

"I had nowhere to go," Inori explained. "The doctors took me in and treated me like their child, so, of course, I was grateful and had unquestionable respect to them. The hospital was like a home to me. It was only recently that I, after some reading, discovered what they were doing hinged on the edge of what was legal and what was not."

It was Amelda's turn to shake his head. "Legality is one thing. That's unethical. It goes again the principle of good corporate governance. You are a human, not a white rat. You deserve better than that."

Inori sighed. "I understand where you are coming from, Amelda. However, if these tests could yield some results and people don't have to suffer sickness anymore, then I would be content with being treated like a white rat. I know what it feels like to lose someone to sickness. I have in my body the immune system that could purge any harmful virus or bacteria; if only I could transfer it without the disease itself to another person."

"That's playing God," said Amelda, frustrated.

"It was worth a try," said Inori.

"Did it yield any result, though?" Amelda asked.

"Not as far as I can see," Inori replied sadly. "I overheard Yamada-san blamed it on the lack of funding from Project Odin."

Amelda raised his brow. "Yamada-san?"

"He's a senior doctor at Kamakura Hospital where I was staying," Inori explained. "He was very kind and gentle. I liked him a lot because he reminded me of my own father who I can recall very little at this point. I never had the courage to express my true feeling directly to him, though."

"Kamakura Hospital?" Ameldar echoed. "That's a subdivision of Hope's Peak Academy group, is that right?"

"Yes," Inori replied. "It was through Kamakura Hospital that I was scouted by Hope's Peak Academy. I enroll in Hope's Peak Academy so that I could become a doctor after I graduate. If the study of my disease cannot cure people, then I would do it myself. Unfortunately, as you can see…

"We all end up here," Amelda finished for her. "Still, that's one hell of an aspiration, Inori. Once we get out of here, I hope you can continue pursuing it. I hope you will one day find the cure to all illnesses."

"I wish the same to your career in accounting." Inori smiled. "If you feel any pain in your hand, apply this. It's one of Yamada-san's secret medicine recipes. I hope it helps."

Hope's Shard Obtained!

Inori Hayashi

Inori's background was particularly sad. Despite her condition, she is very selfless and voluntarily becomes a test subject to discover a cure for all illnesses. Still, I cannot agree with the way the doctors of Kamakura Hospital conduct their experiments under the guise of treating her to keep authorities out of the way. She also has a connection to Project Odin, which is shady as hell. I feel sorry for the girl.

Item acquired:

Yamada's salve

The doctor's secret recipe. It helps to alleviate pain. I should try it out.

I went back to my room as Inori joined Ashley and Kai in the library. My disagreement with how Kamakura Hospital had been using her so far might have upset the Ultimate Patient who considered it the only home she had. However, the revelation about Inori's past gave me more woe than I could imagine.

Project Odin was the gold mine of conspiracy theory nowadays. Basically, according to rumors, some people with political and economic powers got tired of living under the protection of people who had superpowers and decided to create new ultimate weapons that would shift the balance of power in their favor. Military spending had increased for the first time in decades, yet the military had not seen many changes, so where had all the money gone? State-funded media continually criticized the heroes who protected us more than praised them, in spite of the public's opposite opinions. Apparently, politicians had grown tired and capes and cloaks weren't as welcomed as they were a few years ago.

I recalled Monokuma's insane mutated plants which, according to Inu and Fitzgerald, could be used for biochemical warfare purposes. That was one of the things Project Odin allegedly was trying to develop. All of Pamela Isley's journals were supposedly destroyed following the author's incarceration in Arkham Asylum, yet some believed they weren't and Project Odin had gotten hold of them and continued her experiments.

All of these speculations started when some files of Project Cadmus were leaked. When Cadmus was over and a burst, not everyone felt relieved. They thought it was only a small part of a bigger scheme. Where Cadmus aimed to create an army of cloned humans, Odin was aiming for higher. Specifically, Project Odin might be the first step to world domination. But it would not be the United States of America to rule the world, but the individuals who held the fruit of Project Odin, be they private enterprises or statesmen.

But if this was the case, how was Project Odin related to this? Were they the ones who held the Mutual Killing Games? Surely with how much money they were leeching from the Federal Reserve, they should have enough finance to conduct this ludicrously elaborate scheme.

So many questions I wanted to have answers to. Fitzgerald was a private detective and he had been having shady businesses in the past, so perhaps he could shed some light on this subject for me. With a heavy mind, I opened the door to my room, threw the book and myself onto the bed, and took a nap.

Author's notes: Here it is, the newest chapter. This one focuses on Inori who has been absent for the last two chapters and provides a link to the Danganronpa canon. This is also the first History of Despair segment where the character doesn't kill anyone. I am trying to make these strips as diverse as possible. I hope you enjoy them. If you can, I would like to hear your speculation as to what the other character's history is and how they turn to despair.

Some DC comic references in this chapter. Can you spot them?

Thanks for all of your support so far. You guys are great.

Happy Chinese New Years if you celebrate it.