From the moment the option became available, Himiko Yumeno was ready to leave the motel. Of the three, she'd been the first to tell the prosecutor lady, shortly after she told her friends. Later, as she rode in the car taking her to her new home, Himiko realized she might have been too blunt. She had a hard time noticing things like that, but she didn't know why.

The three survivors hadn't talked a lot after they learned they had somewhere else they could live. One by one, they told their keepers that they wanted to give it a try, and one by one they were taken away.

None of them had to take a plane or anything, since they were all from this city. Himiko didn't really understand why, but she also didn't care. She didn't want to think about that stupid show ever again, and she didn't know why Maki and Shuichi kept looking into it. They'd left the murder and trials and bears behind, there was no point in looking back at them.

Himiko screwed up her face in annoyance. She was brooding. That was baaaaaaaad. She used to do it all the time, but someone special told her she shouldn't. It was a hard habit to break though.

Her mind sluggishly tried to grapple onto something worth thinking about, as her glazed over eyes placidly stared out the passenger side window. Hmm...parents! Well, not her parents. The whole thing with the body she was in, and how someone else used to be in it, it was all very confusing for Himiko. But eventually, she'd decided to think of it like a past life. These people were her past life's parents, but she was definitely someone else.

What kind of people were Aini Tono's parents? She'd have to wait and see.

Some part of Himiko still missed her mom and dad. Most of her didn't, though. After all, they might have seemed nice, but they'd been a part of the mage's conspiracy against her. To prevent Himiko from showing the whole world how amazing her magic was, they'd ensured that everyone would think she was a magician, someone who just did tricks. All to prevent the whole world from knowing the truth of magic.

...but that wasn't really true, was it? Himiko wasn't really a mage. She didn't have parents. That was all...fake. All her memories, of the Magic Castle, of the Archmage, of the Gopher Project, none of them were real. Tsumugi and the other writers had just made it all up.

"We're here," said the stern lady. Mo-something? Himiko peeled her face off the window, leaving a drool mark in the process, before opening the door to follow her guide to the right home. They were deep in the city, in one of those neighborhoods for the people who were basically ordinary, but had just a little more money than most people did.

It was a normal house. It had a gate around it, only a few feet from the walls of the home, which was two stories tall. But who knew? Maybe right then and there, normal was better than strange.

She just stood there, outside the gate, unsure of what to do, until the prosecutor asked, "Uh, did you want me to introduce you or...can you handle it from here?" Himiko hummed, trying to think of an answer. Could she do this on her own? Probably. Should she tell her that, though? Maybe if she waited long enough- "You know what, on second thought, I'm just going to get this done with." Bingo. With a brisk stride, the woman approached the intercom on the outside of the wall and hit the button on it.

There was a short pause, one Himiko filled by looking around with a blank look on her face, and her minder filled by tapping her foot impatiently. Finally, the intercom crackled and a woman's voice asked, "Hello?"

"This is Moriko Masa from the Public Prosecutor's Office. Is this the Tono residence?" They both waited for an answer, but instead of hearing anything from the magic box, the door to the house opened and two women exited out of it. One of them was taller, close to the Mori-lady's height and a thin build, with long black hair that looked professionally styled. The other was short, almost the same height as Himiko, with dark brown hair cut into a short bob, and a definitively plumper frame.

At first, Himiko didn't understand who they were. They both looked like adults. Was one of them the mom, and the other a really older sister or something? But as they approached the gate, their eyes locked onto Himiko, she noticed something else: they were wearing matching rings. "Aini, is that you?" the shorter woman asked, her voice shaking from...something. Himiko wasn't super good at telling what people were feeling.

It took her awhile to answer, the gears were still grinding in her brain. Two women...around the same age...rings...oh! Moms! They must have been Aini's moms! For some reason, the realization made Himiko blush, and just as inexplicably Tenko's face popped into her head. Looking at the prosecutor, she didn't look phased at all, just keeping her eyes on Himiko to see how she was dealing with this. Remembering that one of the women had asked her a question, Himiko put a finger to her lips, and thought about what to say. "Nyeh...no? My name is Himiko Yumeno, and I know maaaaaagic~"

The second she said that, there was some change in the women's faces, as they listened to her words. They looked at each other, and it looked like they both wanted to cry, but didn't. The taller lady came up to Himiko, and even though her eyes looked sad, she was smiling. "It's good to meet you, Himiko. I'm Yuu Tono, and this is my wife, Touko." There was something rigid in her voice, it reminded Himiko a little of Shuichi when he was trying to sound really serious.

The other woman, Touko apparently, came up to Himiko too, and each woman extended a hand out. "We know you're not our daughter, but...we'd love to be here for you, if you'll let us..." It was almost hard to understand what Touko was saying, the tears she was fighting back made her voice thick with emotion.

While Himiko hadn't expected there to be two moms, this was going better than she'd expected. (Of course, she hadn't really formed any expectations, but whatever.) They seemed nice, and this looked like an okay house.

And...it felt good. Thinking that maybe this could be a home. Home sounded good. Smiling, Himiko reached out with both hands, taking one of theirs in each of hers. "Okay. It's nice to meet you." After a short goodbye with the government person, Himiko followed the women into the house, thinking about which of her spells would be the best to wow them with first.

"Almost there."

Maki Harukawa wasn't looking out the window. She was staring at the roof of the car. This was dumb.

She didn't even know why she was doing this. Himiko wanting to bail on them, get a family? It made sense. The girl was weird, sure, but she probably remembered having some sort of family. Shuichi was the same way, though when Maki heard he'd decided to go before she had, it had hurt. Which was stupid. He wanted to go back to something like normal, that was okay. He wasn't ditching her, it wasn't like they'd never see each other again.

(Maki had to pointedly ignore the voice in her head pointing out that of course he wants to get as far away from her as possible. She's an assassin. A killer. A monster.)

She wasn't really any of those things. She had all the skills necessary to be one, to do that, to become that, but all those memories were fake.

(No matter how real the memories felt. Regardless of the fact that she still knew exactly how it felt to hold a person's throat in her hands and crush the life out of it.)

The thing was, Maki hadn't had family even in her fake life. Growing up in an orphanage, she'd been trained to kill. Her attempt to pretend to be the Ultimate Child Caregiver had been a farce, doomed to failure from the beginning.

So why? Why was she being driven to the edge of the city limits?

Well...what else was there? Once Shuichi and Himiko left, Maki had no clue what she'd do by herself. Moriko seemed fine enough, but it wasn't like Maki trusted her. Or that therapist. She'd have lived her life in that hotel room, with no direction, waiting for someone to give her an order.

The car started to slow down, then it stopped. Repressing the urge to sigh, Maki got out of the car before Moriko did, and followed her down the road to their destination.

The only time Maki could remember entering a home like this one was to assassinate the owner. That was rare, of course, since most of her targets had been powerful. This house was just...dull. Out in the city's suburbs, it was three stories tall and had nothing noteworthy about it at all, as far as Maki could see. Unless she counted the colorful hand-painted writing on the side of the mailbox, the kanji reading, 'Sakame'. It looked like it was done by a young child. Had it been Marika's work? No, it looked too new. Other kids, then?

Moriko was going to go knock on the door, but Maki stopped her by holding up her palm. "I've got it. I'll call you if I need anything." They'd each been given the number for a burner phone in the prosecutor's possession, as well as a prepaid card with money on it, in case of emergencies. Maki didn't want to meet these people with a faux-guardian by her side. She'd do this by herself.

Something about that decision must have tickled the government employee's funny bone, because she gave a rare smile to Maki as she turned away. "Hope it works out." Maki waited until she couldn't see the car anymore before approaching the front door.

All she had to do was knock on it. That should be simple. She'd knocked on doors before.

Her fist felt too heavy to lift, and she couldn't hear anything except the beating of her heart. Why was she nervous? She'd survived hell. Meeting some random family wouldn't kill her.

(But caring about them might.)

Getting angry with herself for making this into a big deal, Maki just did it. The only problem was, her first knocks weren't loud enough. It didn't seem like anyone had heard her. Letting out a huff, she knocked again, harder, and this time she got a response.

The door opened, and the person who opened it was another teenager, maybe a few years younger than Maki. He had the same brown hair, the same red eyes, even a similar face. He looked stunned, staring at Maki for a few seconds before turning around and shouting, "It's Mari, she's here! It's really her!" He sounded...excited to see her.

Maki didn't know how it happened, but the next thing she remembered, she was being swarmed. The parents, a tall and broad father with a scruffy face and a lean mother with a sharply featured face, had their arms wrapped around her, hugging her tightly as they cried. The boy she'd first seen, apparently named Noboru, was hugging her too, though he was only on the edge of crying, not actually weeping. That was in sharp contrast to a young girl, maybe six or seven years old, named Nonoko, who was clutching onto Maki's baggy jeans and sobbing.

It took awhile for them to calm down enough to form actual sentences, but the first thing the father said was something Maki would never forget. "Oh, Marika, we're so happy to have you home. Let's get you inside, you look like you haven't had a good meal in months! Those TV people on that show must not have taken care of you." With the sinking realization that these people didn't really understand what had happened to their daughter, Maki followed them inside for a cozy, and tearful, family dinner.

It would have been so much better to tell them the hard truth, then and there. It's what everyone would have expected Maki to do.

But every time she considered it, she thought of how happy they were to see her, and how weirdly...warm and glowy it made her feel. So she'd wait.

Tomorrow, she told herself. She'd tell them tomorrow.

There wasn't the need for a car. Apparently, Gima's family lived four blocks away from the motel.

Still, it wasn't like they could trust Shuichi would get there fine on his own, so Moriko still operated as his escort. Since it was the middle of the afternoon, the streets were quiet, and it looked like a reasonably safe neighborhood, Shuichi felt it was a touch unneeded, but he didn't complain. After all, unlikely as it probably was, foul play from Team Danganronpa was always possible.

It was strange, going to live with a family he had no memories of. The parents he knew, well...he didn't really know them. They were too famous and busy to ever spend much time with him, frequently leaving Shuichi in the care of his aunt and uncle. They'd felt more like real parents, and it had been his uncle who'd fostered his skill for solving mysteries.

Of course, none of them were real. They were his backstory, no different from the mom back home that chef had in the second Danganronpa game.

Knowing that didn't make them feel less real. Isn't that a clue? It's obvious they're the real truth. Monokuma is still playing you. Implanting memories, television shows, it's all nonsense.

Nonsense that cost Kibo his life.

The doubt wouldn't go away. It had taken a bit of a break, while Shuichi had felt so dead inside that he could barely even think, but after his friends had gotten his brain back in working order, the questions came with it. He knew it was nonsense, this reality couldn't be fake. Well, it could actually, but it was incredibly unlikely. He had to trust he'd found the real truth.

They reached the building, an apartment complex over a dozen stories tall. They went inside, having to pass by a broken elevator before they found one that worked. The apartment building didn't look terrible, at least so far. A bit dirty, and a bit cheap, but his memories of being a detective were filled with tailing people who lived in places that were basically rat's nests. In comparison, this was nothing to be scared of.

The floor they needed was the seventh, and the exact apartment number was 707. Rather than knocking or ringing the doorbell, Moriko just handed Shuichi a key. "That's your copy. I was told to let you know that your, uh, Hayashi's mom is at work, and won't be back until after nightfall. She told us you should just let yourself in." She looked Shuichi up and down, as if appraising him. "You good, kid?"

Doing his best to push his fears and worries away, Shuichi gave her one of his patented shaky smiles. "I'll be fine." He didn't know if he'd ever see Moriko again, and he felt the urge to tell her something. After taking a few seconds to find the right words, he came up with, "I hope I have the pleasure of working with you one day," and reaching out an open hand.

She looked at it, grinned, and shook it. "Still planning on being a detective, huh? Well, you'll probably need a real life education, but if you want to work with the prosecutor's office, drop my name. We could use someone with a good head on his shoulders." With that, she went back to the elevator, leaving Shuichi holding the key and staring at the locked door.

Shuichi had to steel himself with a deep breath first, but he managed to unlock the door and head into the apartment. It was pitch black at first, and he had to fumble around for a lightswitch. As they flickered on, he noticed quite a few things right off the bat.

One, this place had blackout curtains, which was why none of the afternoon sun had come in through the windows. Was this woman a photographer? Someone who wanted to hide? Did she have an ailment that made her weak to sunlight?

Two, this was clearly originally a one bedroom apartment. The entrance area transitioned into a kitchen on the left, which was also the dining room. It looked very cramped. On the opposite wall was the room built into the apartment, but there were other walls as well, made of cheap materials to divide the rest of the apartment into a second bedroom. Then, on the immediate right, was a bathroom. So, this wasn't someone who had an overabundance of money. Or, if she did, it wasn't being spent on the home.

Three, aside from the cluttered kitchen with a sink of dirty dishes, the apartment looked clean, and more than a little spartan. The only wall decorations were a few photos. A man and a woman, both of whom resembled Shuichi quite a bit, probably his body's birth parents. Then, a small boy's first day of kindergarten, accompanied only by the woman from the first photo, looking older. She was smiling, but something about her looked...tired. The third photo was of her and Hayashi, and it must have been recent. Middle school graduation, maybe? She wasn't even trying to smile in that one. She looked completely exhausted.

Mrs. Gima was clearly a single mother. Whether that was due to divorce or death, Shuichi didn't have enough evidence to guess. She worked hard, trying to provide for her and Hayashi. Judging by the room's decor, she wasn't a very sentimental or decorative person. Though, Shuichi had to admit that was a fairly shallow reading, and could obviously be far off the mark.

Physically, she had Shuichi's glossy hair. In the middle photo, she'd tried to grow it out, but it was cut short again by the newest one. Other than that observation, Shuichi just thought she looked...normal. A bit haggard, possibly more wrinkles in her face than was normal for someone her age, but otherwise nothing particularly remarkable.

Scanning the room once more, he spotted a note on the table, and walked over to read it.

'I'll be home late, don't wait up for me. No reason I can't see you when I wake up tomorrow. Also, don't feel like you've got to clean up or anything, I can take care of that. Hayashi's room was the one on the right, you can use it. Consider all the stuff in there yours.

-Ran Gima

P.S. There's frozen food in the freezer, and canned food in the cupboard. Eat what you want, but try to just make enough for yourself.'

Shuichi must have read the short note from beginning to end a dozen times. This Ran woman, he couldn't get a good understanding of her just from this paper, but for some reason he wanted to. She sounded concerned for him, but also clearly noted that he wasn't her son. But then again, she was letting him stay in Hayashi's room, she was taking him in.

Deciding to ignore what she'd said, Shuichi decided a chore would be nice. He cleaned the dishes, letting his mind be occupied with the task. It kept the darker parts of his mind quiet. When he was done, he heated up a frozen dinner, ate it, then washed the silverware he'd used.

It was almost nightfall, and Ran still wasn't home. Shuichi was a night owl, he could easily wait up for her. But she'd told him not to...but she'd basically admitted she wasn't his mom...

He made the choice to not make the choice, to just go in the room and see what happened.

As was to be expected from something created from part of a living room, it was a small place to live. It had just enough room for a small bed, a computer desk, and a bookshelf. Shuichi did a cursory look around. The bookshelf had lots of Danganronpa merchandise, but also some mystery novels, including a few Shuichi had never heard of. There was also manga, some television series, it was a bit of a jumble. The more he looked at it, the more Shuichi was sure there was some kind of order to it, he just couldn't figure it out.

The desk had a full desktop computer, though it didn't look new. Still, at least Shuichi still had internet access, that was nice. The entire room was covered with dust, though the sheets on the bed had been recently cleaned.

Sitting on the bed quickly led to lying on it, then closing his eyes. Just for a minute.

What was odd, was that for some reason, the room kind of reminded Shuichi of the one he'd lived in with his aunt and uncle. It was smaller, sure, and Hayashi's taste in media was more than a little different from Shuichi's. But there was something homey about it all nonetheless.

Without even realizing it, Shuichi peacefully drifted into sleep, never hearing the sound of the apartment's front door opening as the owner of the apartment finally returned from her long shift at work.

Ran Gima opened her son's bedroom door, and saw a familiar stranger sleeping there. Shuichi was still in his borrowed clothes, and was on top of the sheets, his head nowhere near a pillow. With a sigh, Ran closed the door, hoping she hadn't disrupted the boy's sleep.