Spoilers for DR Zero. Hope you enjoy this chapter!
"She's a drama whore."
"Her last assistant turned up dead. They were so young, too."
"I heard she stabs unruly workers."
The voices swirled around in the young woman's head, wrapping around her body like an anaconda. The young assistant stood outside a wooden door. Clipboard in hand, she huffs.
"We're behind schedule, Miss. You should have been out there a few minutes ago."
She pursued her lips, her legs tightening. Looking down at her watch, she taps her foot against the floor. Sighing, she goes off to the side. The hustle and bustle of Team Danganronpa Entertainment made her head spin. People hollered at each other, hands full with carts full of microphones and cameras.
A woman nipped into her view, directing people.
"I need the cameras set on stage now!"
She shouted, her tone strained. Her veins popped as she commanded the fleet of interns and assistants.
"We're live in 20 minutes! Let's get this show on the road, chop chop!"
The production manager announced, clapping her hands. After the room cleared, the woman went over to the lowly assistant.
"Keina Tojo."
The assistant, Keina, swallowed. Her hands trembled. She raised her head up to look at her manager.
"Yes?"
"WHERE IS MY STAR?!"
Keina raises her clipboard up, shielding her face from the onslaught of spit coming her way.
"She hasn't said anything since…"
"Since?"
The manager's cheeks burned red, her vein popping. Her hands gripped her hips and her dark eyes squinted at Keina, glaring at her.
"Since 10 minutes ago, miss."
"10 minutes?"
The woman chuckled, repeating the phrase under her breath.
"How long have you been standing here for?"
Keina gulped, a lump in her throat.
"S-since 20 minutes."
"20 minutes!"
Keina nods, a pit in her stomach gaped.
"If she doesn't get out here in the next 5 minutes, what do you think will happen to you?"
Keina looked down at her toes, biting the inside of her cheek.
"Cleaning duty," she squeaked.
"What was that? I couldn't hear you."
The manager pointed to her ear, opening her hand out and her eyes ingrained to Keina's soul.
"I'll be back to cleaning duty."
The manager frowned, her arms crossed.
"Don't disappoint me."
And with that, the production manager left.
Keina let out a puff of air, her clipboard pressed against her body. Her hands grew swollen and worn over time due to vigorous cleaning. Even though she could handle household duties, she would never live up to a daunting task like this.
The voices crept into her head, their sweet cries of misery and endless despair were shrill. Could the woman behind this door be evil? After countless appearances, nobody could ever grasp the depravity of her own volition. And yet, even if she was deplorable, everyone would die to meet her.
Keina tightened her hands before deciding the best course of action.
"Miss, the meet and greet is about to start!"
Keina calls for her. Faint hums tickled her eardrums. She raps at the door, swallowing.
"Miss, are you there?"
She asks, her voice quivering.
The faint hum returned, dread climbing down her back.
She covers her mouth with one hand. Angry butterflies filled her stomach as she reached for the knob.
The woman opens the door, peeking her head into the room.
"Miss, the event is about to start soon. Are you almost-!"
Her heart plummeted.
The woman's back faced Keina.
A glass smeared with lipstick laid broken on the floor. Its liquid red contents spilled onto the floor formed a puddle. Sharp blood red fingernails thumped against the top of the dresser.
"Miss."
A faint hum vibrated against the throat of the woman sitting at the dresser.
"You have 10 more minutes to go before we go live."
Keina called out, her breath hitched. She started to pull back from the doorframe.
"Come here," the woman stated, her fingers still drumming.
Keina treaded toward her, her nails grating on her clipboard.
A long red nail points at a clear container. Inside was a small chocolate cake modeled after a Monokuma head.
"Take this."
Keina raised an eyebrow, collecting the cake. Clearing her throat, she retains her neutral expression. Her green eyes gaze at the smiling supermodel. Her lips twitched before she turned walking outside of the room.
"You have 10 more minutes to go!"
Her smile shrinks, her spiraling eyes downcast.
"10 more minutes till creepy sleuths and drooling fanboys awe all over me."
The model opens a drawer, getting out a bottle of Zoloft, medicine prescribed by Matsuda. She downs some water as she swallows the pill. She didn't exactly like it, but she rather not talk to some hot-shot therapist, who didn't know shit about her.
The actress puts everything as she starts applying the makeup one. Her eyelashes popped out. Her eyes were now a vibrant pale blue. Her nails, blood-red, stood defined as they were sharp. The outfit she had on was crisp and clean, complete with her red bow and her signature hairpins and tie. The persona of hers is now complete.
"What lovely despair."
Junko Enoshima was now her persona as she felt the cameras crawl around her. She smiles at the mirror, holding a peace sign. The smile was dripping with artificiality. She loved the joy and art of performing for others in the world, even if she could never be able to be anyone else but Junko.
She spared no quick glances when she felt something crawl over her body. Her hands trembling as she breathes silently, feeling their lens invade her space. Her eyes shift as she waits for another invasion of privacy and more probing.
All the creepy stuff didn't matter as she was Junko Enoshima, Ultimate Despair. She was the perpetrator of the Tragedy and the most awful event in Hope's Peak Academy history. Her beauty and brains supported her talents as the Ultimate Fashionista and Analyst. She wore those titles with pride.
"Showtime."
She whispers to herself, going out of the room. The only thing kept private and secret from those prying eyes was her real appearance. The only piece of solace and privacy she had. Others weren't so lucky.
"Junko."
"Kyoko. It's been a long time."
"It has. Now, let's get on stage."
The two girls meet up, walking onto the sides of the curtains, seeing the lively audience.
"Makoto!"
Sayaka smiles at him, waving.
"Sayaka! I haven't seen you since the last tour through Europe. How's it been?"
"Splendid!"
Sayaka was the lead singer of a pop group. The group won many awards and accolades, becoming one of the most decorated girl groups in Japan. They even managed to get platinum in America. She was taking a break from it, finding success in becoming a solo and more rounded singer.
"How's working as a headmaster?"
Makoto scratches his hair, laughing.
"It's a bit hectic at times. Especially when you have lots of students getting sent to the office, and they only want to be there to see you."
The two bonded, reminiscing about old times during their school years. Junko looked over, seeing everyone happy to be back together after their times apart. She notices a figure standing near the back wall away from sight.
Her breath slightly hitched as she cautiously walked to the figure. To her relief, it was only a familiar face.
"Mukuro."
Junko says, looking at her twin.
"Ryoko."
"You know you can't use that name in public."
Mukuro shrugs, her eyes glued onto an inconspicuous Monokuma camera.
"I know. But I prefer it over the product."
Junko smiles, ruffling her sister's hair. Mukuro and she separated at birth and didn't know about each other's existence. As Mukuro headed off to the Middle East to train, Junko was more focused on being a model. When she got turned down by her natural looks, she started posing as a blonde girl named Junko Enoshima. She became a hit, becoming one of the most popular fashionistas in Japan.
Opening her mouth, Junko lets out a sigh. Her eyes fixed onto Mukuro before shifting over to the source of a growl.
"Let's go already."
Byakuya crossed his arms, his mouth in a sneer. He grits his teeth, his eyes dark.
Makoto laughs as Kyoko smirks.
"A little impatient, Togami?"
She remarks, crossing her arms like her detective character.
"Quiet, you."
Kyoko smirks, even more, knowing about his frustration.
A call for them to get on stage rang. The meet and greet began. They interacted with countless fans, handing autographs and posing for pictures.
Soon, it was time to go as the cast members left the stage, going to the dressing rooms after an hour of the event. They left, waving and showing their appreciation. Byakuya, Celeste, and Kyoko were more sheltered and simpler with their exits. Junko, Kiyotaka, Sayaka, and Aoi had more energy and were much more exaggerated with theirs.
She didn't notice the person behind her until he came into view of the mirror.
"It seems a new person has arrived! Do you accept us as your queen with undying devotion?"
She said, posing in her queen position. Her tone and voice inflection, colored and exaggerated, boomed. Her eyelashes fluttered.
The person remains still, crossing their arms before letting out a sigh of relief. His small smile sent tingles in her chest. She bit her tongue lightly, trying not to clutch at her chest.
"Why look who it is."
She teased, giving him a subtle wink.
"Yeah. It's me."
Rantaro Amami, the sole survivor of the 52nd season stood behind her with a smile.
"I'm sure you already know me."
"Then, you should know why I'm here, then."
"Not entirely. Shoot away."
She said, posing in her model position.
"I came here since you were close by."
"Awwww! That's so great!"
She cheers. Rantaro smiles awkwardly, looking at her.
"You were looking for me? What for?"
"I want to have a chat."
Junko looks at him, her smile growing wider.
"Are you asking me on a date? Ooooo~"
Rantaro scratches his head, looking off to the side.
"It's just a chat. Nothing more, nothing less."
Junko smirks before throwing hands up into the air.
"You're lucky you're cute."
His eyes grew wide as she pulled him by his hand.
The two walked out, Junko holding tightly onto his hand. She put on a long white coat with many buttons, white earmuffs, and black gloves.
"Come on, winner. We got things to do. Many things to do."
She smiles, pulling out her phone. She sends a quick message and looks up at Rantaro.
"My limo driver will be here in a couple minutes. It's better if we walk for now and keep going."
Junko tells him as they walk down the sidewalk, taking in the noises and smells of the vibrant district. The sky and atmosphere felt electric as the cars bustled around the many long roads.
Soon, her smile warped, tugging at the corners of her face. She leans forward to Rantaro's ear.
"After our little chat, let's bury the hatchet in someone's face, of course."
And with that remark, chills ran down his back and his eyes darkened.