Himiko counted the rosé-colored lights as she passed, trying not to get distracted by the echoing of her footsteps against the walls. Even after a few days in Paris's headquarters—or, as she called it, "The Heart-quarters"—it was still easy for the Magician to get turned around. The place was like a hi-tech bunker crossed with a love hotel: winding passages and maintenance shafts connecting to dozens of cramped rooms, some filled with cutesy decorations and furniture, others housing banks of servers and equipment Himiko couldn't begin to understand. Heck, it still amazed her that the Hacker had managed to get her hands on this much stuff, even after she confessed to hacking automated delivery trucks in her free time. That particular detail hadn't pleased Shuichi, but Kokichi was tickled pink by it, so much so that he immediately launched into a long-winded request for hundreds of different toys and costumes. So immature. Though now that Himiko thought about it, some new stage props and outfits might be nice…
She paused next to a wall made of smartglass, currently streaming some sort of boring business program with the volume off. The Magician drew her hand down in front of the sleek surface like the Hacker had showed her, turning off the broadcast and revealing Himiko's reflection on the now-darkened screen.
She looked performance-ready…right? The slight curve of the improvised mirror made it hard to tell. She titled her hat back a tad, brushing a loose strand of hair aside as she did. This was the problem with up-close magic—there was no stage or lighting rig to hide behind, just her, her audience, and her ability to hold their attention. The Magician hoped that would be enough.
She abruptly turned away, hurrying down the hall before she could dwell on it any longer. What was she thinking? Of course it would be enough. This was Maki she was talking about. She wasn't some rowdy bachelorette party or drunken celebrity—she was Himiko's friend. The best kind of audience there was.
Still…it was pretty clear that something was up with the Ultimate Assassin. She had been acting strange ever since they got away from Team Danganronpa. While Shuichi spent most of his time researching and Kokichi wandered the halls doing…whatever it was he did in his free time (not that Himiko cared), Maki hid all day in her room, barely speaking to anyone. Being all silent and secretive. Well, more silent and secretive than usual.
No doubt about it: The Assassin was thinking bad thoughts. And the only cure for that, Himiko knew, was a little pinch of magic.
So why was she now shivering outside Maki's door? It was just the usual pre-show jitters, right? It's not like Maki would get mad, right? It's not like this was life or death or anything…right?
Oh no, now the bad thoughts were getting to her too! Himiko shut her eyes tight and slapped her cheeks. This was not the time to get stage fright. This was the time to help a friend. If Tenko could neo-aikido-throw the sadness out of Himiko, she could surely magic it out of Maki.
"I can hear you out there, Himiko," the Assassin's muffled voice said through the frosted glass door.
"Nyeh?!" Himiko started. "Aah-uhhh, I mean, can I come in? I found something important."
"Whatever," came the reply.
The door slid open, admitting Himiko into the Ultimate Assassin's room. The hideout's dormitories all came with the basics: a bed and nightstand combo, plus a desk, chair, dresser and smart-glass wall for watching T.V. What really set each room apart were the holographic installations Paris had set up. Maki's floor was dotted with dozens of pretty white flowers, which swayed gently in a virtual breeze as Himiko passed. It was an amazing sight and made the Ultimate Magician's imagination run wild with possibilities. Just think of the illusions she could pull off! She'd barely have to consume any MP!
The digital wonders were lost on the Assassin, however. She sat hunched on her mattress, knees to her chest, her crimson eyes locked on the Magician as she tepidly moved to the foot of the bed.
"H-h-h-hey," Himiko stammered. "H-how's it going?"
"Are you hiding something?" Maki's gaze narrowed. "Why are you shaking so much?"
"N-no of course not. H-h-h-h-how's your shoulder?"
"Better," the Assassin admitted, stretching her arm. "I should be at full capacity in a couple days."
"That's g-good. You've been s-so quiet lately I w-was worried you were r-really hurt."
"I've been through worse," the Assassin's expression clouded over. "Or…at least…I remember it that way. I don't know," she rested her head on her knees, exhausted. "Wasn't there something important you wanted to show me? I've got a lot on my mind right now."
Himiko swallowed. Right. The show must go on. "That's right. I wanted to show you these," Himiko reached into her blazer pocket, extracting a bright red box of chocolates. "Ta-daaa! I was looking around the kitchen, and I found these tucked away behind a stack of energy bars. I thought we could share 'em together. Uh…" she blinked. "Y-you do like chocolate, right?"
Maki's titled her head. "I guess."
Yes! She was in. "Great," Himiko brightened, stepping forward and opening the box. "There are pictures on the back so we know which is which. So now all I have to do is…"
Suddenly, the chocolates vanished from the Magician's grasp. "Nyeh?" She spun around, eyes wide, the perfect picture of confusion. "Where'd they go? They were right in my hand!" She turned to Maki and was pleased to see her eyebrows raised ever so slightly.
"Hang on," the Magician continued. "I think someone put a disappearing curse on them to keep them safe. Let me just…" She waved her hands, then flicked her hat up, revealing the box of chocolates underneath. "Ah-ah!" she declared triumphantly. "The Amazing Himiko has cracked the…oh no!" She opened the box, only for a bouquet of flowers to shoot out instead. She stomped her foot in comical exasperation. "This is awful! There's a second layer to the curse! Maki, I'm going to need your help to…"
And that's she felt the hidden chocolates rolling out of the hole in her hat. She stiffened, turning beet red as the errant sweets clattered to the ground, cutting her act short.
An oppressive silence flooded the room. Himiko wished it would swallow her up.
Maki cleared her throat. "That…wasn't supposed to happen, was it?"
"Uhhhhh…," Himiko bent down to pick up the chocolates, hiding her face beneath her hat as she did so. Of all times for a wardrobe malfunction to strike. Disaster. Disaster. Major, red-alert, world-ending disaster! "I-I forgot: back at the Hotel, that Programmer guy shot a hole in my hat. I-it must've created a gap in my mana stream so, I…um…"
A tear fell down her cheek, carving a fizzling path through the virtual flower below. She wanted nothing more than to run out of there at full speed, but she didn't dare raise her head to meet Maki's gaze. Not only had the Magician failed her as a performer, but as a friend as well. Stupid Himiko! How could she have possibly thought his was a good—
Maki gently lifted the hat from Himiko's head. "Here," the Assassin murmured. "Let me fix it."
The Magician looked up, shocked to see Maki calmly reach into her nightstand and withdraw a compact sewing kit. "W-wait, you don't have to …"
"I learned how to sew in the Orphanage," Maki interrupted, finding a black thread to match the hat. "Kids would always chase me down asking me to mend this or that dress or fix this or that a stuffed animal. It was annoying but…it was also kind of nice to set something right."
She sighed. And for the first time in days, Himiko saw her shoulders relax. "Want me to show you how it's done?" The Assassin offered, nodding towards an empty space on the bed. "We can eat the chocolates too, as long as they don't disappear again."
Himiko smiled, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She scooped up the chocolates and climbed onto the mattress, eagerly awaiting Maki's lesson.
Even for an experienced mage like her, magic still worked in mysterious ways.
Shuichi hesitated as he stepped into Paris's darkened lab. All the lights were off, save for a single lamp on at her workstation, which barely illuminated her hunched, stationary form over her desk. For a moment, the Detective considered coming back some other time, but he had already put this conversation off long enough. He needed answers. And there was only one way he was going to get them.
"Paris?" he called out, gradually approaching from her back. "Do you have minute to…"
Suddenly, the Hacker jolted up in her seat, causing Shuichi start. "Huh?" she exclaimed, spinning around. "Who…ohhhhhh it's Shuichi," she sighed, slumping back into the chair. "I thought for a second the Calamari King was coming for me."
The Detective paused. "The what?"
"Oh, just a dream I was having. Falling asleep in this chair always gives me the weirdest nightmares. Anwyay," she waved her hands, causing the room to come to life. Her smartglass desk lit up with a crimson keyboard and array of controls and sliders; the bank of monitors blinked awake, revealing feeds of audio, visual, and coding data too dense for Shuichi to parse; finally, the walls themselves turned on, becoming a bright blue sky dotted with holographic clouds and rainbows. "Enough about meeee…." the Hacker said, batting her eyelashes. "Let's talk about you! What's up? How's your room? Toilet acting normal?"
"I-I think so…wait, why do you ask?"
"Nothing! No reason!" she exclaimed. "Just tryin' to be a good host. Don't want the plumbing to suddenly shoot a hot geyser of water where the sun don't shine. Not that it would!" she rushed to add. "But, y'know, pipes: weird, right?"
"I, uh, I guess," Shuichi shook his head, trying to reorient the conversation. "Actually, I came for two reasons. The first is to return this," he pulled her KeroPad out of his pocket. "And the second…"
"Ohhhh, so you're finally done with your research?" Paris nicked the tablet from his grasp. "Hope you got what you needed?"
"Yes, but I have a few…questions I wanted to ask you."
Paris snorted, spinning towards a shelf to put the KeroPad away. "I bet. Though fair warning: I dunno how much I can teach you that the net hasn't. Social Studies has always been more like Snooze Studies for me."
"It'll still be useful to get your perspective. But that stuff can wait for when the others are here. What I need to ask you…" he paused, trying and failing to find a delicate way to broach the subject. "…It's about the Americas Killing Game."
The Hacker blinked. "Oh that," she smiled sadly. "Yeah, I, uh, figured this was coming eventually." She turned away, falling silent as she collected her thoughts. Shuichi waited patiently, watching as a virtual unicorn galloped around the outer ring of the room, casting an eerie magenta glow across the darkening atmosphere before vanishing.
"Can I ask one question first?" Paris finally said, turning to face the Detective. "Back in the van, when we were escaping…you saw something on my KeroPad, didn't you?"
Shuichi crossed his arms, leaning against a nearby workbench. "Most of the news stories I saw at the time described you as a fugitive or a vigilante hacker. But one article had a different nickname for you."
Paris nodded, clearly aware of what was coming next, but still waiting for the Detective to say it. Well, there was no point in beating around the bush any longer.
"They called you…'Paris the Blackened.'"