Of all the people Naegi had thought he might see on Junko's monitors, Alter Ego had to be one of the last. After their plan to try to access the school network had ended in such horrific failure, he'd thought he would never see his brave friend again. After the additional executions Monokuma had cruelly staged after the fourth trial, he'd assumed that Alter Ego was as lost to them as Toko or Hina… but maybe that hadn't been the case. For a being born of circuitry and coding, with Chihiro's brilliant programming giving him life in place of blood and bone, maybe bullets didn't have to mean a mortal wound.
Maybe Naegi hadn't been the first of Junko's victims to survive an execution.
A sharp staccato clattering tore Naegi's gaze away from the screens, and he looked halfway across the room to see Junko bending over one of the computer terminals. Her fingers flew across the keys faster than her long nails should have allowed, a blood-red blur just below the dark glow of the screen. Her eyes never so much as flickered away from the terminal screen, but Naegi could feel the fury blazing from her towards Alter Ego's screen.
And then suddenly — silence flooded into the room, filling a void where background noise had been. Naegi's gaze shot back up to the wall of monitors — and the sight of a dead black screen where Alter Ego had been hit him like a blow to the stomach.
But before Junko could even lean back in her chair, another screen crackled to life. Far across the wall, on the opposite side of black screens, Alter Ego stared back at them with silent defiance.
Junko snarled up at him, the vicious sound full of an anger too pure to be forced into words. When Alter Ego's image didn't so much as flicker, she lunged back to the keyboard, typing with renewed energy. With the sudden burst of rage spurring her on, it didn't take long for her to wipe Alter Ego's face from the second monitor.
And it took even less time for him to reappear on a third screen.
It could almost have been a game, as Alter Ego popped up on screen after screen, appearing just long enough to meet Naegi's eyes each time before Junko banished him again. And with every repetition, she managed to send him packing just a little faster.
It couldn't go on forever, Naegi realized. No matter how good Alter Ego might be, eventually Junko would corner him. Even without knowing much about computers, he could see that much — and if he could, then Alter Ego had to as well. Why was he still showing himself to taunt her instead of hiding? He was too smart to make her angry on purpose, not without a good reason… so what was he trying to accomplish?
Whatever his reason, surely it couldn't be worth the ever-multiplying rage tearing itself from Junko's lips in scream after frustrated scream. The longer she slammed her fingers against the keyboard, the more blows she sent flying in Alter Ego's direction, the angrier she got. This was only going to make her more determined to hunt the brave AI down… and Naegi knew he couldn't just sit back and do nothing.
Watching Junko shut down yet another screen bearing Alter Ego's face, Naegi knew he didn't have time to hesitate. He needed strength, enough to interrupt the chase, enough to help Alter Ego as the AI had helped him. He drew breath to speak as another screen flickered to life —
But this time, it wasn't Alter Ego's face looking back at him. Instead, the screen showed a floor of the school.
No… not just one of the floors… as another screen came lit up to show the floor from another angle, Naegi recognized it as the fifth floor. The floor Junko had hidden.
The floor where Byakuya had fallen apart so painfully, clutching garden shears like they held a way to escape from the nightmares.
A third screen appeared, and this one showed the garden — the place Naegi had last seen Byakuya. As more screens came back to life to show the room from every angle, Naegi scoured them one after another, searching for some glimpse of Byakuya… but he couldn't find anything. There was blood drying dark on the bench and ground where he'd been sitting, there were the shears fallen nearby… but the heir himself was nowhere in the garden that the cameras could reach.
He wasn't there. His broken, blood-soaked body hadn't collapsed on the bench, letting his life drain from his wrists. He hadn't left Naegi alone in the school with only a grisly corpse to remember him by. All the nightmares Naegi hadn't been able to stop himself from seeing, the icy fears that refused to loosen their grip on his heart, the nausea clawing up his throat at the vision of how his boyfriend's life might have ended… none of it was true. Byakuya wasn't there.
But then… where was he?
The other screens — Naegi's eyes shot towards the other screens, showing views from the many other cameras on the fifth floor. Other sounds buzzed around him, a too-high voice that should have held some meaning for him — but he didn't have time for that voice, not now. He needed all his attention to sort through the screens, view after view of the hallway, the classrooms, the dojo —
The dojo.
Naegi froze, eyes locked on the screen showing the row of dojo lockers. Unlike all the other screens he'd seen so far, that one wasn't empty. Genocide Jill leaned against the wall opposite the row of lockers, twirling a pair of scissors in a deceptively idle gesture. She wasn't focused on her scissors… no, all her attention was glued to the opposite wall…
To Byakuya.
Naegi couldn't have torn his eyes from the small blond figure on the screen for any offer in the world. The angle was awkward and indirect, only capturing his back as he leaned intently over the last locker in the row — but even without a clear view, there could be no mistake. The tense set of the shoulders, the too-straight line of his back, the irritated push at his glasses to show displeasure at what he was seeing — it all added up to one wonderful, incredible truth.
Byakuya was alive.
And he wasn't just existing, not any longer. He was fighting again, throwing all his strength into accomplishing some new goal. Naegi didn't know what looking at the dojo lockers would accomplish, but that hardly mattered — not when Byakuya had chosen to do it rather than seeking out the garden shears again.
Naegi could have watched that screen forever, drinking in the simple proof of his love's continued life — but a sharp crack rang through the air, shattering the momentary relief and yanking his gaze away from the screens.
Junko stood, one hand flat against the table where she'd slammed it down to get Naegi's attention — but she wasn't looking at him. She was glaring down at the computer screen in front of her, where a long string of complicated code glowed back.
"You aren't a player in this game," she said softly, voice colder than Naegi had ever heard it. "You do not get to interfere."
She raised her other hand above the keyboard, poised to let it fall with a terrifying finality. And as he looked at her, Naegi realized what it was that he couldn't see… the one image that no longer appeared on any of the monitors.
Alter Ego had disappeared.
Or… not quite disappeared. Naegi looked back at the code again, shining through the air with quiet defiance. It pulsed just a little brighter as Junko's hand dove for the keyboard, like a spirit refusing to go quietly into darkness.
"Don't!"
The word clawed free of Naegi's dry throat — and Junko's finger froze a millimeter from the keys. She blinked once — then spun towards Naegi with a blinding smile.
"Aw, sweetie — if it bugs you so much to watch me pay attention to anyone else, you should've just said so!" She sat back down in her chair and steepled her fingers before her face, watching him over the arc of blood-red nails. "Fine. You want my attention that bad? Then let's chat."
Schedule note: For the next two weeks, I am going on a vacation - which sadly means I won't have time to write anything. I won't have a new chapter until Sunday, October 7. See you then!
