Kiyotaka found himself in front of the headmaster's office, immediately wrapping his knuckles on the door with no hesitation whatsoever. It wasn't exactly common practice to go and see the principal as it was, but to march up to his door and practically demand an audience with him? That was unusual. Especially for the rule-abiding prefect, who thought about regulations and procedures at least four-hundred times a minute. Today, however, was different. His actions were justified.

He received no reply. Was he even in there, he wondered? He waited a moment later, and, after knocking again and receiving no answer, Kiyotaka pushed his ear to the door to listen for any signs of life. Sure enough, he was able to hear faint traces of near-inaudible conversation from behind it. It was definitely the voice of Jin Kirigiri, without mistake. Kiyotaka wasn't an eavesdropper (intentionally, anyway), but he managed to overhear little fragments of conversation.

"...Genius. Yes, I know. I know."

It sounded as if he was talking to someone, but no other voice followed his words, leading Kiyotaka to conclude that he must have been using a phone. He needed to speak with him urgently, yes, but he didn't have the indecency to barge in and interrupt a phone call. Kiyotaka might have been angry. He might have been desperately seeking a response to the chaos unfolding downstairs. But he wouldn't sacrifice his manners, of all things. He was the Ultimate Moral Compass, after all, no matter what!

"Of course. I'll be meeting with– yes. Exactly. I'll bring it up when I see him."

Kiyotaka hoped this conversation wouldn't last all day. He needed to see the principal immediately – there was no time to waste. With every second that passed, who knew how much of a rampage the carefree others would be creating downstairs? Thankfully, almost as if someone had heard his silent prayers...

"Certainly. I'll speak with you later. Thank you, Tengan. Goodbye."

Now was his chance!

Taking his ear off of the wooden panelling of the door, Kiyotaka wasted no time in knocking again, this time louder and with considerably more force than he had employed a minute ago. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the doors opened, and there stood Jin Kirigiri, headmaster of Hope's Peak Academy.

He gave Kiyotaka a puzzled look.

"Kiyotaka?" He asked, already confused. "What are you doing here? Have you been... crying?"

It was funny that he should ask that, considering that Kiyotaka burst into tears almost on-cue, fists clenched and teeth bared, frustrated at such a display of weakness. His tendency to cry spontaneously was but another one of his many oh-so-hated weaknesses.

"The class... they've lost their minds!" He had to push the words out of his mouth.

Jin's expression turned from confusion to concern, and he stood aside, gesturing into the office. "Come in, Kiyotaka."

The prefect did just that.

Jin closed the doors behind him, and wandered over to his desk, taking a seat. His eyes cast up to the clearly upset (although 'upset' was an understatement) student before him. "Tell me what happened." His voice was unbelievably calm and well-mannered. That gave Kiyotaka some hope.

Standing in front of the desk, his face still a mess of tears, Kiyotaka blurted out a hurried explanation.

"It's horrible! It's crazy! There's no order! Mondo rode a bike through the halls, Touko is threatening people with scissors, and Junko's tossing knives! Litter on the floor... people throwing each other... Leon Kuwata hit me with a baseball! They're out of control!"

"Kiyotaka, please," said Jin, clearly taken aback at the level of emotion pouring out from the hall monitor. "Calm down. Take a seat."

Kiyotaka did not sit. "I'm sorry, Headmaster," he said, "but you have to do something!"

"I understand that you're upset, Kiyotaka, but what do you suggest I do?" He asked, letting out a minor sigh. "You're one of the hall monitors. The best of them. It's your duty to keep them under control, is it not?"

That question did, for just a moment, make Kiyotaka see fire. Yes, indeed, it was his duty to uphold order and ensure that the school's rules were being followed precisely. It was indeed his duty to keep the others under relative control. Did Jin not think he had tried that? That he had tried issuing detention slips, that he had tried explaining to them the importance of hard work and education? The question insulted him. He had tried, damn it. The riot going on wasn't his fault! It was theirs!

"They don't care about control! They don't listen. I've tried everything. They don't care!"

Jin flashed him a look of doubt. "They don't... care? Come, Kiyotaka, I'm sure you don't mean that."

"No, I do!" He retorted, not caring if he was raising his voice. "They hate lessons. They hate education. They just want to loiter around and cause trouble. It's damaging the school and it's damaging their futures!"

"Damaging the school? Their futures?" The principal allowed himself a little chuckle, shaking his head. As if something was amusing about Kiyotaka's frustrations. "I doubt that. You are all immensely talented. Your talents will take you far in life, regardless of the choices you all make. You don't need to worry."

"That's the problem! Their talent makes them ignorant. They don't understand or appreciate hard work. Look at the reserve course students – they would kill for a place in the main course. They work so hard, and they're ignored. My class don't understand effort, and they're rewarded for it! Their talents are the problem here!"

The amusement was wiped off Jin's face in that moment, and he straightened himself in his seat, clasping his hands on the desk in front of him. "Kiyotaka," he said, tone a little deeper, "how can someone as talented as yourself say that?"

Talented? Kiyotaka… talented? The prefect saw fire once more, feeling as if he was about to vomit. Never in his life had he been so insulted. The fact it was meant as a compliment only made him angrier.

"Headmaster, I am not talented," he said, his tears suddenly coming to a halt. The furrowing of Jin's brows and the thinning of his lips indicated shock. "I worked hard to become who I am today. I'm not a genius. I have no talent. I only have effort behind me. That's why I'm here today. That's why I'm the Ultimate Moral Compass, Sir. Because I worked for it."

It wasn't something he ever said out loud (he wouldn't dare), but Kiyotaka despised geniuses. He hated talent. It was too easy. Too perfect. Why should someone on the Reserve Course who broke their back to make something of themselves be trampled on by someone in the Main Course who put in no effort at all, simply because they were talented? It made him sick. He was not talented, and he was proud of it.

A brief silence filled the air after that, during which Kiyotaka bowed his head and stared down at the desk, awaiting his response. He felt partially ashamed to come bursting in, crying and shouting, spilling out his rage and frustrations, but who could blame him? He was at his wit's end. Enough was enough. It wasn't– wait, what was that?

A folder sat on Jin's desk, barely peeking out from under a stack of other papers. Kiyotaka wouldn't have noticed it, had he not looked down. The very top of a single sheet of paper was visible within the folder. The hall monitor made out the words 'Izuru Kamukura Project'. Apparently having seen that he'd noticed it, Jin quickly leant over, grabbed the folder, and tucked it away into a desk drawer out of sight. Was he trying to hide it?

Izuru Kamukura… that was the school's founder. Kiyotaka had read about him in one of the many, many, many books he had on the school's history. A project with his name? An upcoming school event, perhaps?

"This… disorder you speak of," Jin said suddenly, sounding a touch more stressed than he had a moment ago. "Was Kyoko a part of it?"

Kiyotaka's thoughts quickly shifted from the folder and back to the conversation, and he forgot all about it. The matter at hand was far too important to be distracted from.

"No, Sir," he said, not surprised that the principal was concerned for his daughter, "she wasn't. Not everyone was involved."

Jin visibly sighed with relief but maintained a calm, collected, and relatively unbothered appearance. "So it's not the entire class that's the problem, then?" He asked, the early morning sunlight drifting in through the windows behind him showing the tinge of purple in his dark hair. "It's just a few troublemakers? Surely that's something you can deal with."

Something he could deal with? Once he thought that was possible. He now understood that it was unachievable. Authority wasn't a term that existed to his classmates.

"Sir, it's not as simple as that. You have to believe me. They don't attend detentions. They walk out of classes – most of the time the teachers refuse to teach, too!" Kiyotaka's tone was strained, frustrated, almost desperate. Hoping and praying that the headmaster might understand. That he might see reason. Something to give the prefect the hope he needed – the affirmation that he wasn't the only person left on the planet who actually cared for order and decency.

"Kiyotaka, Hope's Peak Academy is no ordinary school, as you know. It is a beacon of progress and hope. A place to cultivate talent and excellence. Lessons are important, yes, but giving the talented main course students time to focus on their own skills is exactly what this school is all about. Surely you know that?"

Kiyotaka almost scoffed at that. "Riding a bike through the halls is focusing on a skill?"

His mood had gone from outraged and devastated to something else. Something new. Quieter. More subtly bitter. One would almost think he had calmed down, but such a thought couldn't be further from the truth. This was simply a different type of anger.

"It's… impractical, Mister Owada is the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader, after all," Jin said. "What can you expect? Look, I understand your concern, and I'm glad you brought it to my attention, but I'm immensely busy here, Kiyotaka."

So that was it, then? The headmaster was just going to get back to whatever pointless work he had to do, and totally ignore the chaos unfolding downstairs? Wasn't he going to do anything at all?

"What do you suggest I do?" Kiyotaka asked, almost afraid of the inevitably awful reply he was about to receive.

"Relax. That's all I can say. Enjoy your time here. Stop obsessing with classes and consider joining in on the fun. You're only young once, after all." The headmaster flashed the concerned student a subtle, warm smile. "Cut yourself and the others a little slack. Live a little."

He was about to object to that reply. Such a solution could never possibly work. He expected the Ultimate Moral Compass to participate in violence and rule-breaking? Disorder and hysteria? Was he even listening to himself? One could never combat disorder with further disorder! He would be giving the others exactly what they wanted! Why was this school, a place that should have upheld order and rules, happily accepting anarchy?

Wait.

Wait a minute.

Maybe, just maybe… the headmaster was right?

The world outside the boundaries of the school was a wild and dangerous place. Crime was common. Corruption was everywhere. Everyone who walked the streets had broken at least one law at some point in their lives. It was a loud, rule-breaking world filled with hustle-and-bustle, chaos and calamity, masquerading as a place of peace and civility. The school itself was no different. Filled with loud, rule-breaking people who craved violence and disorder, all the while pretending to be perfectly peaceful, orderly students who had done no wrong. What was the point in them pretending to be anything other than what they were, Kiyotaka asked himself?

Perhaps… the best solution to disorder was, indeed, further disorder.

If the people of Hope's Peak Academy – the people of the world itself – didn't enjoy lessons, then it would be wise to bring the lessons to them. Better yet, would it not be better to teach them such lessons in the way that they were used to? With chaos and disorder? If the people of the world so desired anarchy, then surely it was only right to give them exactly what they wanted?

"I… I… I think I understand. A little healthy dose of disorder never hurt anyone, right?" He asked. He knew that the epiphany he had just reached wasn't what Jin had meant at all, but Kiyotaka's version made much, much more sense. The gears were turning. Spinning, almost. Everything was coming together all in this wonderful, perfect moment.

"Of course! You know what the Americans say: All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Perfect order will drive you insane." Jin laughed again, clearly unaware of the malevolence unfolding inside the perfect student's mind.

Kiyotaka gave a firm nod, and a wide grin spread across his suddenly cheerful face. "Absolutely. Thank you, Sir! I know what I have to do now. Truly. Thank you!"

Jin seemed relieved at that. "I'm glad I could be of help. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to be doing."

Kiyotaka nodded again, still smiling. "Of course, Sir. Have a wonderful day, Headmaster." With a quick bow, he turned, and dismissed himself, leaving the room swiftly.

He had entered the room as a concerned and outraged (if not terrified) Ultimate Moral Compass. He was now leaving the room as an entirely new person. That last part of their talk had lit up something within him. Something he had never experienced before. A sudden logistical understanding of how to deal with every single problem he saw in both the school and the world. One could say something had 'snapped' inside his head, but this was so much more than that. Something hadn't been lost

Something hadn't been lost within him. No, no, no.

Something had been conceived.

A matter of hours later, the hall monitor found himself back in his room, perfectly at ease, sitting at his desk. Still smiling from ear to ear.

Piled atop the desk was a pile of books, all of them on the various technicalities and intricacies of programming. He had hunted down Chihiro earlier (who was, unsurprisingly, nowhere near the loud recklessness of the others), having asked her kindly if he could borrow a few of her books. She had, of course, seemed confused but, he had explained, it was for a little 'pet project' of his. Something to keep him busy while he wasn't studying. Something that would be of benefit to both himself and the others.

Such a prospect had delighted her. "I'm excited to know what it is!" She had cooed while rushing into her dorm to bring out a selection of books. She had carried them one-by-one, apparently too weak to carry them all as one gigantic pile. "Whatever you're working on, I hope it cheers you up, Kiyotaka!"

It would, he assured her, do just that. Her books would be invaluable to him. He thanked her and, with that conversation over, had returned to his room to start planning, the stack of books in hand.

Now, a short time later, he sat at his desk, having been scribbling away into a notepad for the past couple of hours. Every so often he would reference the books, reading up on passages involving design and electronics. It was all here. Everything he needed. He was a happy student, indeed!

He leant back, sitting down his pen, his work complete. Cheerful crimson eyes studied the page, scanning over every little curve and line of the sketch.

Kiyotaka had used three colours. Black, White, and Red. The same colours he found on himself. Black boots, white uniform, red eyes. The entire thing had, in many respects, been drawn out in his own image.

He chuckled to himself, not a care in the world.

There, on the page, was a drawing of a teddy bear. One-half black, one-half white, with a single red eye in the shape of the logo of Hope's Peak Academy – a jagged line of sorts. At the bottom of the page, written with perfect precision, was the name he had bestowed upon his new child.

'Monokuma'.

Today was a happy day for Kiyotaka Ishimaru. Finally, at long last, he understood what he needed to do. He understood what his school, and the world, required in order to be educated. Today should have been a typical, unexciting day, but it was so much more than that.

As he stared down at the page, the prefect broke into a wild laughter, one which he had never produced before. Oh, it felt so painful to laugh so hard! Painful felt good!

Today was a special day.

For today was the birthday of despair.