Junko sighed, flopping back against her chair as her maniacal laughter died away. Man, this whole Monokuma act was beyond old — practically prehistoric! It was frustrating enough to make the self-destruct buttons for all those stupid bears look awfully intriguing. It wasn't like she needed all of them anymore…
Any other moment in her life, that would've been all the incentive she'd needed to send years of work and millions of dollars up in a blaze of fire and noise — but now, her hand froze poised above the first button. It would be such beautiful chaos, watching her careful plans collapse into pointless mayhem… but the thought of the looks on her precious friends' faces stopped her. They'd feel confusion, panic, maybe even some terror… and then it would all be over. The extended school life they'd worked for would be over for good, before they'd even gotten the chance to understand the truth of it.
She couldn't do that to them. They'd fought so hard in the game she'd built for them, going above and beyond anything she'd expected. After all that they'd done to make her game work so well, she couldn't just rob them of the chance to experience the delicious despair she'd planned for the finale.
And what about Naegi? She'd practically promised him an extra-special experience all his own, in return for all his hard work. She couldn't just go back on her word. Keeping her promises was important.
Junko whirled her chair around to face away from Monokuma's self-destruct button, launching herself out of the control room and back to the main data center. If she was going through with her big plan, she'd better get a move on with the final prep work before everyone beat her to the trial room!
Landing smack in the middle of the data center, she twirled in place, gaze skimming over the piles of materials she'd set out. Was everything where it was supposed to be?
Leftover evidence from the previous trials — check!
Stack after stack of photos documenting the forgotten years of friendship, pre-sorted by intended effects — check!
Recorded footage of the hard work her loyal followers had accomplished on her behalf in the outside world — check!
Green glowing computer terminal — che-
Oh. Right. Junko stopped short, the world spinning dizzily as her eyes narrowed at the computer terminal where Fujisaki's little toy had gone to ground. That still needed dealing with. She strode over to the terminal, fast enough that the remnants of dizziness could at least lurch queasily through her stomach once before fading back into blandness.
Reaching the computer, she clattered a few strokes on the keyboard. "Knock knock!"
The screen flickered a moment, probably processing the idea of jokes, before the pale text flickered back a hesitant response. "Umm… who's there?"
She smiled fondly down at the screen — only sweet little Fujisaki would have programmed a computer to add uncertainty to its speech. It really made her wish she'd taken the time to compliment the programmer on his abilities when she'd had the chance!
Too late to gush about it now, though. With a shrug, she went back to the keyboard. "The mastermind!"
The cursor froze, no longer even blinking at her. It was just adorable — for a few seconds, anyway. Junko rolled her eyes with a huff, the cuteness of a scaredy-cat machine waning fast. She didn't have all day to wait around for it to finish cycling through its terror programming.
"Soooo… you're bestest buddies with all the other students now, huh? Trying to fight for them and everything?"
She watched the screen carefully, tapping her nails against the keyboard as letters began to appear — and then vanished again before any words could form. She was just considering whether it needed a little more encouragement to chat when the words finally began to glow on the screen.
"I guess so. I'd like to help them if I can."
That was an awfully familiar sentiment… Was it Fujisaki's programming showing up again? Or had someone a little more recent had that particular impact on the learning AI?
Someone else… That sent Junko's gaze darting over at the corner where Naegi still lay unconscious in the last throes of the drug she'd given him. The poor boy would be so upset if he woke up to see her chatting with his precious digital pet… it was almost enough to make her want to slow the conversation down, in spite of her tight timeline!
But no, she couldn't do that. She'd been the one to set the twenty-four hour time limit, after all, and there was no point in setting a challenge if she was just going to ignore it half way in.
"Wowwww, look at you talking like you think you're friends with them!" She grinned at the monitor, even though it didn't have any video input to see the gesture. "Do you really think a computer program can be a human's friend? Isn't it all just one big game of pretending?"
It was a tough question for anything to process, let alone a pile of code — she gave it a good thirty seconds to sort through the philosophic questions of existence, humanity, and the nature of life before her nails began tapping out an impatient pattern again.
"Naegi said we could be friends."
The response made her grin spread even wider. "So you trust Naegi an awful lot, huh?"
There was no hesitation at all this time — Alter Ego's "Yes" appeared bright on the screen the moment she'd asked the question.
"Great! Me too!" Junko clapped her hands gleefully, stepping away from the keyboard. Looked like she'd have some good news for Naegi when he woke up — he always liked it when his friends got along! She glanced back over at his corner —
And a flicker of motion stopped her in her tracks. Naegi's head had twitched out of place — his eyelids were flickering —
She threw herself across the room, reaching his side just as his eyes fluttered open again. The recognition jolting across his face made the extra bit of effort worth it — so nice to know she'd been the very first thing he saw!
"Rise and shine, sweetie!" She beamed down at him. "We've got a busy day ahead of us!"
