Chains shot out of the walls, locking around Fukawa's neck, and she let out a strangled scream as they dragged her away through the door. Naegi stared after her until the doors slammed shut, wishing he'd been able to say more to her. This wasn't fair. Yes, Monokuma had given Fukawa a chance to explain herself after the trial had ended – but he'd begun the punishment before the rest of them could give her the answers she'd deserved.

She'd thought they all hated her. Naegi's eyes burned at the thought of how she must have felt, believing that none of them wanted her around. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for Fukawa to live with a serial killer in her head, blacking out and finding the crucified bodies of boys she'd had feelings for. And she'd believed that they'd rather have that murderous alter ego than her.

Had they ever given her a reason to think otherwise? Naegi remembered his own words to her the day before. Fukawa had asked whether he wanted to spend time with Genocide Jill, whether he wanted to be her friend – and he'd said yes. He hadn't meant to imply that he'd be Jill's friend instead of Fukawa's. He'd just assumed that Fukawa knew he already considered her one of his friends. He should have taken that chance to explain. If he had, then maybe she wouldn't have felt like she had to go this far.

Would it have stopped her if she'd understood? Would knowing that she wasn't as universally hated as she'd believed have calmed her enough to reconsider her decision? Well, now he would never find out. He hadn't spoken up, and she'd acted out of fear, and loneliness, and betrayal.

And now she was going to die, still believing all those awful things were true. She thought they'd be glad she was gone.

Naegi looked up at the head of the circle, where Monokuma smiled out at them from his overwrought throne. The mastermind had done this on purpose. There was no other explanation. They'd never put a time limit on any of the trial proceedings, allowing the students to talk until they understood everything – but this time, Monokuma had ended things and dragged Fukawa away before Naegi had the chance to say something to make her upcoming execution a little easier to endure. She would die believing the worst of them, and they would all have to live knowing it.

After too many agonizing minutes, the curtains on the opposite side of the room finally swung open, signaling for the students to leave their places at the circle and watch the scene play out. Naegi turned towards the curtains – but as he stepped away from his podium, the world shuddered around him, and only the fact that he stumbled into the railing prevented him from collapsing to his knees. Black spots exploded before his eyes as he clutched at the wooden rail, fighting a desperate, losing battle to stay upright.

And then an arm wrapped around him, pressing him back against a warm body and taking enough of his weight that he could regain some of his bearings. Naegi looked up into Togami's face, wincing at the depth of concern he saw there. He didn't want the other boy to worry any more about him, not when Togami was angry enough already about what had happened.

Looking over at the window, Naegi saw that Kirigiri's eyes were on him and Togami, rather the scene outside. He would have pulled away – but Togami's arms tightened around him as soon as he tried.

"Not anymore," Togami said, in a voice that would carry even to where Kirigiri stood. "We are done playing her games."

Naegi might have protested in other circumstances – but he knew that he wouldn't be able to make it over to the window without assistance. He didn't want to find out just what Monokuma might do if he thought that Naegi was failing to watch the execution. And besides, if this had to happen, then Naegi knew he needed to see it, whether Monokuma would force the issue or not. Fukawa had been his friend, even if she hadn't understood it. She deserved to have him witness her last moments.

Leaning heavily on Togami, Naegi made his way over to the window, step by nausea-inducing step. And when he finally got close enough to see past the curtains, what he saw only made him feel sicker.

The scene beyond the window could have come from an old horror movie, with dim, flickering lighting revealing a filthy hallway leading into darkness, heavy doors with barred windows lining the sides. At one end, a sign saying "Monokuma Asylum" swung in the air, its faint creaking the only sound.

And then a wild crash came from the shadows, and three figures came rocketing down the hall. Fukawa was the in center, a heavy white straitjacket locking her arms in place and covering her mouth. The tall white-coated figures on either side of her seemed to be doctors – until they turned towards the window and revealed their smiling Monokuma heads.

The door directly in front of the window burst open, revealing a blood-splattered surgery table and surgical implements. The Monokuma doctors pushed Fukawa into the dank room, and the straitjacket only barely muffled her screams as they strapped her onto the table.

Naegi had to fight not to close his eyes as the Monokuma doctors circled the table to examine the surgical implements. They lifted blood-encrusted scalpels, rusty knives, and finally – grinning at each other – long metal rods that sparked blue with electricity.

Fukawa's eyes went wide with terror as the Monokuma doctors pressed the wide circular tips of the rods to either side of her temples. She struggled against the straps, tried to scream through the jacket – but blue lightning jumped between the rods and convulsed through her entire body. Once – twice – three times –

And she stopped moving.

Naegi turned away from the window, burying his face in Togami's chest. He knew he shouldn't, not with all the others right there – but he couldn't help himself. He needed the strength and comfort too badly to resist. And as Togami's arms moved to hold him close, Naegi could feel the other boy's hands trembling against his back – and he realized that maybe he wasn't the only one who needed reassurance.

From behind them, Monokuma heaved a sigh. "You know, it just isn't as satisfying as I thought it would be."

Naegi looked up, about to ask what he meant – but before he could, a crash came from beyond the window. Naegi twisted in Togami's arms to look back behind him – and he saw Fukawa standing up. She'd torn open the straitjacket and ripped away the restraints by throwing the table into a wall. Now she stood, looking around in mild confusion, a pair of scissors seeming to materialize in her hand.

That wasn't Fukawa, Naegi realized as she twirled the scissors. That was Genocide Jill.

"I guess it can't be helped, though," Monokuma went on. "After all, the rules say that only the person who gets caught committing the murder gets executed – and I can't break my own rules, can I?" He laughed wildly.

"You mean – Fukawa isn't dead?" Naegi asked, staring up at Monokuma in shock. "You didn't kill her because it would have killed Genocide Jill, too?"

"Oh, she's dead all right," Monokuma said brightly. "Or as close as I could get. That little electric display wasn't just special effects, you know – it wiped her memory clean away. Everything that made Toko Fukawa is gone – and instead of a world-class novelist, you get stuck with the murderous fiend!" He sighed again. "But that's the problem with rules – following them is just no fun at all." He looked out at them, his eyes gleaming. "I guess that's why you're all trying to break them."

And on the opposite side of the room, another set of curtains opened.