The dining hall filled with the sounds of effeminate laughter and glass cups clinking against the slate table-top. Even though the chairs were circled around the oval table, and typically, we all ate together, important conversations never seemed to have a place at dinner. Everyone spoke within their own cliques; Tenko and Angie seemed to be in the middle of some strange power-battle, while Himiko frowned tiredly between them. Gonta was deeply invested in whatever story Korekiyo was sharing, and shouting his excitement and approval every few sentences. Tsumugi was silent, a soft, curious smile upon her lips; she was living in her own head, rent-free as usual. Then there was Miu, face up close to the side of Keebo's, awkwardly examining the ridges in his mouth and eye-sockets, and Ouma, sitting straight across from me, who joined in the on the fun and obnoxiously flicked Keebo's antenna, laughing as the frustration built. I think the rest of the students savoured the small amount of time it allowed us to experience some sense of comfort. Instant rushes of dopamine burst through their brains when a delectable meal is in front of them, and everyone was contained in the same room. Though, the quality of the food seemed to take a drastic dip once we lost Kirumi.

It bothered me that no one else seemed bothered. Their normal, everyday antics and arguments had no issue sliding by the distressing news we had received earlier. 'If the Monokubs were telling the truth, and there really was a chance we could bring someone back…'

"Well, if you're not gonna eat your chicken…" I heard Kaito inquire, interrupting my thought. Before I could even respond, the remaining half of my chicken breast had moved from my plate to Kaito's fork.

"Hey, I—" I argued, only for a moment before letting out a sigh of defeat. I didn't even feel that hungry, but I knew I should eat something. "Kaito," I began, twirling my steel fork between my fingertips. I glanced up at him as he tipped his glass against his lips and began to swig back water. "What do you think about the… transfer student?"

"It's nonsense," Maki cut in, sternly. I moved my head in her direction, her trenchant glare cutting through my inquiry like a sword. "Those bears are just trying to throw us off track. Resurrection is impossible." Her demeanour didn't shift in the slightest, staring me down as if waiting for me to break first. She did this often, especially during trials, and I've learned to just concede. I think she needed that sense of dominance more than I did. Kaito dropped his now empty glass to the table, somewhat carelessly.

"I think it's worth a shot!" he smiled. It truly puzzled me as to how he was able to push past Maki's threatening attitude. "I mean, we'll never know if we don't try, right! Besides, if we could bring Kirumi back, we might have a real shot at gettin' outta here and saving the world!"

My eyes drifted between the two, and a sense of anxiety washed over me. Kaito wasn't wavering; keeping that goofy grin plastered on his lips as he stared back. To my absolute surprise, Maki turned away. I watched her jaw tense up as she clenched her teeth, before pushing back against the table and standing, wiping down her skirt. Without looking back at anyone, she turned and started striding towards the door.

"Don't be ridiculous," was the last thing she said before the door slammed behind her. That caught the attention of everyone in the room, who either quickly fell back into their subtle conversations, or pushed their empty plates aside and followed Maki's lead. When I looked back at Kaito, still smiling, he let out a chuckle.

"Don't worry, Shuichi. Maki-roll will come around, I'll make sure of it!" he said with confidence, before shoving the last bite of my chicken into his mouth. I pushed the small mound of rice around my plate.

"You probably shouldn't call her that," I offered with a light chuckle. Kaito stood up with a stretch and threw his hand down to pat my back, probably more roughly than he had realized.

"No one makes decisions for Kaito Momota, besides Kaito Momota!" he exclaimed, turning towards the door. "Now, I'm gonna go find Maki-roll."

I laughed through my nose, raising my eyebrows and giving him a soft shake of the head, "Good luck."

As the few remaining students began to finish their meals and exit the room, I was left alone with Angie of all people, who sat only a few chairs away. I looked down at my plate, trying to convince myself to just shove the rest into my stomach. My mind caught on to what Kaito had said, pushing me further down into a spiral.

'If we can bring someone back, there's gonna be a fight about who…'

"Shuuu-ichi!" Angie rang out, expectedly. She wasn't really the quiet type. Though, conversations with her always seemed to throw me through a loop. I always seemed to leave them feeling more confused than when had I started. Nervously, I picked at the cuff of my jacket as I looked up at her, and she pointed her finger at me. "Why are you so moody?"

"Moody?" I replied. Angie's eyes sparkled, as if she were in awe, although that just seemed to be her permanent state of being.

"Your aura is usually beige, but Atua says it is now purple!" she raised her pointed finger to her cheek, poking into the skin.

"My… aura?" I questioned slowly, taken aback by her words. 'How can an aura have color?'

"Yes! Now, what's got you so down, Shuichi?" she prodded. Leaning in closer to me. Instinctively, I leaned away and raised my hand to scratch the back of my skull. Suddenly, I really wished I had left when Kaito did.

"I- don't really know," I uttered, letting my thoughts wander alongside the conversation. "I just kind of lost my focus, I suppose."

Angie practically jumped out of her chair before I had even finished my sentence, swiping her plate carelessly to the side and raising her leg up to the chair. "Focus is easy to teach, Shuichi," My eyes widened at the sight of Angie jumping up onto the table, and scooting closer to me. "The key is… breathing!"

Using the tile beneath my shoe as a grip, I pushed myself back even further, slightly put off by the silliness of it all. Angie shoved my plate aside as well, before pulling her legs into a cross. "Follow my lead!"

I didn't move. Honestly, I was a little bit frozen, unsure of what any of this meant. Angie moved her hands to her hips and gave me a look of disapproval. "Why do you look so scared? It is only meditation."

'Oh,' I thought, letting trapped air escape my lungs. 'I guess that does make sense.' After a moment of contemplation, Angie still glaring down at me like a disappointed mother, I followed her lead, awkwardly picking my stiff legs up to the chair and straightening out my back.

"Now, close your eyes!" she exclaimed slowly, gesturing her hands downwards as if I were a dog being taught tricks. Regardless, I did as she said. I felt a little bashful but hoped that Angie would too close her eyes. The walls in this place, mostly made from solid brick or stone, were thick and well-structured, leaving most rooms soundproof. I could hear myself breathe, and my clothes ruffle around as my body anxiously fidgeted, making the whole experience even more discomforting. 'Isn't this supposed to be relaxing?'

"You're doing so well, Shuichi! Now, take a deeeep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Breathe deeper than your lungs are used to!" she explained, slowly yet still excitedly. I followed suit, taking in a massive breath, and letting it go through my throat. Angie joined, seeming to pace her breath in unison with mine. Trying not to let the ridiculousness stop me, I continued to breathe.

"Good," she began as my surroundings started becoming less apparent, hyper-fixated on keeping my breaths in a steady pattern. "Now, pay attention to your body… Notice how your chest will riiiise and faaaall with each and every breath."

Automatically, my mind did as she said, focusing on the movement of my chest rather than the air going through my nose like before. 'Woah,' I thought, 'This is… strange.' With every breath, with every syllable that Angie spoke, I felt myself falling deeper and deeper into this relaxing state. Perhaps this was how Angie stayed so unbothered. In that moment, I had no thoughts of Kaede, or Ouma, or Monokuma… It felt liberating.

"Your mind may start to wander… That's perfectly natural. Just bring your focus back to your breathing." she spoke calmly, and just like that, I was back to feeling the air flow slowly through my nose and throat. My body felt so heavy, as if my legs were sinking into the metal chair beneath me, and the kinks in my neck, the sore muscles in my legs… were gone. I never doubted that meditation worked; it's a general fact. I suppose I just never thought I'd be the type to reign successful. I heard a creaking noise in the distance and attempted to brush it off before a voice followed.

"What the… hell?"

My eyes shot open and my whole body jumped at the sudden change of mindset. My heart thumped in my chest as the pain slowly began returning to my body. It was like being woken up from a nightmare. That sense of security vanishes in only seconds. Though I have to admit, it was quite nice while it lasted. Maybe I don't give Angie's weird, spiritual side enough credit. Turning my head, I saw Ouma standing about a foot away from us. We must have looked ridiculous. I dropped my feet to the floor.

"Kokichi!" Angie cheered, placing her hands together in a praying position. She uncrossed her legs, swinging them below the table before hopping to her feet. Her yellow smock fell to the side of one shoulder. "Shuichi's aura was moody, so Atua made him feel better! The purple is already starting to fade he says!"

'Ah, I didn't realize that was a lesson from Atua.' I thought, feeling my breath start to regulate back into it's normal, unconscious pattern. Ouma flashed a look of excitement, clearly fabricated, but Angie didn't seem to notice as she headed for the door.

"Not faaaair, I wanna know my aura color too!" Ouma pouted, crossing his arms over his chest like a child.

Angie pulled the door open, before turning back to us. "Atua says… gray! Byeonara!"

And with the clicking of the door falling into place, I was left alone with Ouma, who was in the same position, now with a grin on his lips.

I chuckled softly, " Do you even know what that means?" I asked, attempting to advert the awkwardness away from his focus. Ouma dropped his arms, leaning his hip against the side of the table.

"Does it really matter?" he admitted. Usually, I would agree, but after that experience, I definitely gained some respect for Angie. I smiled softly glancing over at the cold mound of rice that never made it into my stomach. "Moody, huh?"

"Those were Angie's words, not mine," I explained, pushing the hair out of my eyes.

"Right," he chimed, disbelievingly. As I stood up, I pushed mine and Angie's plates towards the bigger mound in the middle of the table for whoever was on dish duty that night.

"Anyways," I began, pushing my chair in. "What are you doing back here?"

"Monopad," he said, simply, pointing his finger in the direction of the chair he had seemingly claimed. He paced towards it, before picking up the tablet and shoving it into his jacket pocket. I turned my head towards the exit, assuming that would be the end of our conversation, before Ouma's voice rang out once more. "So, any new leads?"

His words took me aback, sending a chill through my body. I didn't like that he knew what I was up to, and I didn't like him taunting me about it either. He carried his words with superiority. I remained standing with my back towards him, staring at the door. "Leads on what?"

"On Rantaro's killer, of course!" he sang. I felt his presence slowly creeping closer to me as he strode in my direction. The thought of it slowly brought back that strange, dizzy feeling to my head. I didn't want to divulge all this to Ouma, but at the same time, I couldn't bring myself to brush him off.

"Not yet." was all I managed to say, before grabbing the cold, metal doorknob and excusing myself from the room. I didn't even look at him before shutting it behind me. I sighed, attempting to comprehend everything that had happened. For a few moments, Angie taught me serenity, and my gratitude felt strong.

But I couldn't let myself fall into naivety. All good things come to an end.