Notes: Hello again, readers! I hope you enjoyed the prologue, for the real story is about to unfold! This chapter was fun to write, and I'm surprised it came out the size it did! I was expecting to go over 7,000 words, but I managed to maintain some brevity. Plus, I can finally begin to write as my OCs!

Oh, Danganronpa 3, how I await your arrival! If all goes well, we might both hit our strides at the same time! But enough about the future: now, let the curtains rise on our story!

Chapter I: Pitiful Students and Pendulous Despair

Dream eyes opened and peered across an abyss. Floating steadily within the uniform darkness were two hands, the eyes saw below them, and a clothed body, which were all assumed, due to the eyes' natural habit of creating relations and unity with questionable veracity, to be pieces of a dominant whole. The eyes wished to scrutinize the hands, and the hands obliged them in a surprisingly intuitive fashion. The eyes noted how familiar the smooth white hands looked. The hands, on a whim, tried to touch the eyes, but were stopped by a warm and tacitly pleasing surface. That touch created an identity for the hands, the eyes, and the body; the touch created a reality that believed itself to be a person named Makoto Naegi.

Makoto, aware only of himself and the void, drifted along in the barren expanse, figuring in his stupor that he needed nothing more than the flow. Somewhere in the vast emptiness, though, sparked a glow. Its emergence came silently, and its saffron color hovered unerringly. He saw the light, but he could not be motivated to reflect on it. Given an infinite amount of time, even if he chose to go on a blind and thoughtless journey, fraught with myriad setbacks and irrational stops, he would reach any point or location, especially any in this dreamscape. The light would reveal its nature eventually, so, in the meantime, he chose to continue on whatever path the nothingness moved him to.

In what may have been a second or an eternity––for time was a frivolous concept in this primordial plane––Makoto's aimless existence became unexpectedly directed. He felt a great force pulling him into the light that, in his confusion, he could only understand as something akin to the suction of a monumental vortex. The light twinkled, its sparkling resembling long arms reaching out to grasp his vision. It was only when those spectral limbs overtook his sights that he could begin to piece together what the radiance was. When the conclusion struck him, the violent suction seemed pygmy next to it.

Floating in the darkness was a beautiful Hope's Peak Academy, its gate open and refulgent. So great was its presence, Makoto could not even blink when he shot into its gate and was consumed by the illumination. He thus could not prevent himself from seeing the infinite sea he had been submerged into vanish to reveal a black wood ceiling that was much too damp and absent a household ceiling fan to be the roof of his hotel room. He stared mindlessly at the holed wood.

"Wait..." Makoto murmured. His hazel eyes glistened as his voice quaked. "What...?"

Makoto wobbled into a seated position, aware with primitive irritation of a sore back. He would have massaged it, were his mind not quickly returning from a daze due to the strange circumstances he had woken into. He observed what was in front of him: a floor identical to the roof stretched out to a similar wall with a worn door in the middle. The door looked makeshift, and its splintered wood and hole in place of a door handle made it clear that the door had fallen into disrepair. Darkness obscured what was behind the door's hole.

Makoto stiffened, too focused on his surroundings to close his jaw. Where was he, if he clearly was not in his hotel room? More importantly, how did he get here––and when did he get here? He reviewed his memories but couldn't find any evidence which explained or otherwise foreshadowed this unnatural development. He rested his head on his hand.

Yes, this was all just too unnatural, he reassured himself: If a transition from a mundane world to a transcendent dreamscape to a foreboding room is too bizarre, then surely he must still he dreaming. Indeed, the fluidity of each step in his journey seemed so uninterrupted and natural that such a sequence of events could only manifest in a wholly unnatural fantasy. He had created more outrageous dreams in the past, and he was prone to lucid dreaming––how implausible was it that he could be experiencing a combination of these two factors?

He shook his head, and he was about to chuckle until he caught a glimpse of the room's corners. To his left, a figure with blond hair lay on the floor; to his right, a body with lavender hair rested on the floor. He leaped to his feet, ignoring how numb they felt, and rushed to the right corner. Not in any second of his dash did he ever move his sights away from the body. His breath hastened as he kneeled to inspect it with shaky hands.

Kyoko Kirigiri lay in a slight fetal position. Her appearance had not changed from that now distant reunion, down to her delicate coating of makeup. She was simply asleep, and, from her soft breathing to the controlled rising and falling of her chest, it appeared to be a peaceful sleep.

A relieved smile appeared on Makoto's face as he observed his friend's captivating serenity. He hesitated for a moment before concern for the person behind him compelled him to press a hand on her cool shoulder. A single eye opened sluggishly and tracked its vision to the hand.

"Ma... Makoto?" Kyoko's scrunched her nose in an almost childlike expression. "What are you... doing in my room?"

"H-hey, it's not what you think!" Makoto yipped. He shook off his fluster and offered his hand to Kyoko. "Listen, you and I aren't in our hotel anymore. I don't know what's going on, but we're not the only ones here. We need to reunite with the rest of the group."

Kyoko did a cursory scan of the room, but it was enough to evoke a vigor in her eyes Makoto hadn't seen since the killing game. Her alertness surprised Makoto almost as much as her firm grip did when she pulled him up more than he lifted her up. "It's never a boring day when you're nearby. Let's go."

The two headed to the left corner of the room. It was immediately apparent that the blond person was Byakuya Togami and that, in spite of his uncharacteristically gentle features, he was very much alive. Looking around the room, the two also saw through the transparent darkness Aoi Asahina and Yasuhiro Hagakure resting in the last two corners.

"Get up, Byakuya," Kyoko said.

The moderate volume of her voice awakened Byakuya with a grumble. "Is there any particular reason you disturbed me or are you louts simply amusing your––This isn't my room." He held his chin. "There's something wrong here. What's going on?"

"That's what we're trying to find out. Aoi and Hiro are here too, so let's get them," Makoto replied.

Byakuya raised himself up and led the two to Aoi. He motioned towards her, and Makoto got down and woke her up.

"Why thank you Michael Phelps, but that swimming was just a fraction of my full power––Eep! M-Makoto?! Did I crash somewhere weird?" Aoi blushed.

"In a way. I'll explain once we wake Hiro up. I'd do it myself, but I'm afraid he'll mistake me for a hitman and pummel me, so can you take this one?" Makoto pointed behind himself.

Aoi nodded and started walking to Hiro, though a glance around the room was enough to slow her gait to a crawl. She poked Hiro, who jumped in the air and assumed an odd pose.

"I told you I don't know any Yasuhiro Hagakure, so back off!" Hiro glanced around himself and relaxed. "Oh, hey guys. What's up?"

"It seems," Byakuya readjusted his glasses, "like we may be in a pickle."

"Y-yeah... Um, this is some kind of joke you're playing, right Makoto...?" Aoi asked. "Y-you just wanted to make the reunion memorable, right...?"

"Afraid not..." Makoto frowned. "I just woke up in the middle of this room and saw Kyoko and Byakuya in the corners of the room. I don't remember anything suspicious before I woke up here: I was tired, so I rested on my bed. I feel a bit sore on my back, but that's about it––and in some ways, that's the most worrisome part." His friends stared at him throughout the account and were quiet afterward.

Aoi shivered. "This isn't real... This is just like––Just like the killing ga––"

"No!" Hiro yelled. "T-think about this: we all have an empathetic bond with each other, right? There're tons of stories of people with strong relationships sharing the same dream, so that must be it! You're all part of my bad dream!"

"Hiro, that 'shared' dream sounds awfully self-centered..." Makoto said.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Byakuya interrupted, "but where is Toko? If all five of us are here, then she should surely be here as well."

Makoto gulped. He was fighting the urge to put his hands on his head; so far, he was successful in that endeavor, but only because his hands were stilling his jittery legs. He couldn't focus on his friends' reactions, but he guessed they also were not receiving the question well.

Kyoko put her foot on the floor, causing a solid click to echo throughout the room. "Before we search for her, I want to check on something quick." She looked to Makoto. "I know it's hard not to worry, but we need to learn about our circumstances so we can better assess Toko's and work from there. It's not your fault she's missing right now."

"... Yeah, I know. Ok, first do what you need to do, then we go searching for Toko," Makoto said weakly. The rest of the group nodded.

Kyoko opened her blazer and scurried her fingers through it, pulling out a small gemstone from a hidden compartment. She then rolled her sleeves up and made a deft analysis of her wrists. Finishing there, she took off her boots and checked her ankles. Once she seemed satisfied with a personal inspection, she repeated the same process, minus the jacket search, on the others with masterful speed. Even Byakuya, who appeared hostile when it was his turn, seemed content with the benign inspection. Everyone's limbs appeared normal.

Kyoko rubbed the gemstone in her hand. "I see... It's not what I would have hoped, but I suspect our arrival here was very recent and underwhelming."

"Well, how did you come to that conclusion?" Byakuya inquired, raising an eyebrow at Kyoko.

"Our arms and legs have no rope burns or other signs of restriction. This likely means we weren't tied up and brought here. Additionally," Kyoko showed the gem to everyone, "this gem proves I'm wearing, at the minimum, the same jacket I wore during our reunion."

"How does a little thing like that prove you're wearing the same clothing?" Makoto asked.

"I customize every one of my uniforms with a unique accessory. After what happened with our memories, I had to take some precaution for the possibility of my memory slipping again. So, I now have a system wherein, whenever I doubt my account of time, I check the accessory inside my current uniform and compare it to the accessory of the uniform I last remember wearing. If they don't match, I can be a bit more certain that either my abductors redressed me––possible, but unlikely, given that they shouldn't know my secret––or that I myself must have changed uniforms sometime in-between. If they're the same... Well, it probably means that, unless my suit is worn and dirty, little time has passed." Kyoko replied. "It's not a perfect solution, but it's an easy workaround."

"So," Aoi gripped one of her arms, "does that mean... you're saying we all just got here? Like, we weren't even dragged violently, weren't messed with to make us forget something like two whole years...?"

"Like I said, it's not an answer I want, but the evidence favors it. Until further evidence emerges, we have to entertain the possibility that we just got here through some unknown means."

The floor greeted Makoto's vision, but its presence did not ground him from this absurdity. A potential answer to the question of his transportation into this lurid room emerged, with an unsettling corollary sprouting from its trunk: if he could get here in a night's rest, what did it say about his captors? He didn't want to think about it or about its credibility, but he had too. Kyoko was a far braver person than he was if she would deduce an outcome that unnerving with nothing but an understanding of feckless memory and a simple gem. If he could think of someone whose memory may be unaltered, he could ask them to remember; then, maybe he too could cross the bridge Kyoko passed...

"Maybe... Maybe we can ask Jack..." Makoto muttered.

Hiro ran to face Makoto and give him a panicked shake. "You want to ask that psycho?! Oh hell no! She may be tamed, but so are circus elephants, and they kill people!"

"I believe there is a reason Makoto would ask this," Byakuya said. "Jack's memories proved useful to us in the past, so we may need her assistance once again. I say we stop standing around in this room and find Toko."

"Taking the initiative and pursuing her trail? Perhaps her feelings are reciprocated after all," Kyoko declared irreverently. She kept her sights towards the door and strolled towards it, brushing Makoto's hand as she passed.

"... I sometimes question whether quitting the killing game was the right choice," Byakuya growled. He neither noticed nor cared to notice Kyoko had already reached the door. He also didn't notice a now giggling Makoto.

"Ok, operation, 'reunite the inseparable pair', begins now!" Makoto crouch-walked to the door, his breathing uncontrolled and his face red. Aoi and Hiro were right behind him, joining along in the band of laughter.

Meanwhile, Kyoko hid, behind a turned back, a satisfied smile.

The dark, blank room exited to a pitch-black stairway. With every hazardous step Makoto took down a stairway where extending his arm was enough to obfuscate it in an obsidian veil, he heard the sharp creaks of the wooden steps gradually metamorphose into visceral squeaks. He stared at the homogenous pattern of gnawed black wood succeeding gnawed black wood and clung to the flimsy railings.

"So... um... why are the steps making those noises...?" Makoto asked. A pregnant cacophony of splats and drips was the only response he received.

An indeterminate amount of time elapsed until the stairway ended its descent on a short landing with dimensions exact to another door in front of the group, save for the looming roof that expanded past eyesight. The door stood out from the previous one and from the entirety of the structure: its yellow exterior spiraled to form its corners, a distinct but obscure metal composed its curved door handle, and paint coated its panel so thoroughly as to make the door resemble a tranquil, red pool. Makoto was relieved the floor sounded normal again, but the door perturbed him.

Kyoko, who lead the careful descent, walked to the door with an abrupt briskness. She examined the door, then turned around to face the party. "Makoto, you take the door," she ordered.

"W-why me?! That door isn't inviting in the least!" Makoto screamed.

"Yes, but you seem to have a knack for surviving ominous doors. Plus, you're a man, right? You should be able to handle this just fine," Kyoko said.

"Ok, can we cut with the 'he's a man, so he's suited for this' stuff?! Look, you think Byakuya and Hiro won't protest––" Makoto turned his hands towards the two males behind him: Hiro was cowering behind an unimpressed Aoi, and Byakuya faced away from him, cleaning his spotless glasses. "––this. Wow, what great and courageous friends I'm so lucky to have." He stomped towards the door. "Step aside, ladies, the man will deal with this."

Makoto's hand chilled when it made contact with the cool handle. Turning the handle slowly, he noticed that no sound emanated from within the door as he opened it. He was cognizant of his success only when the handle would not rotate further and the forward force he exerted caused the door to move ever so slightly. With bated breath, he strengthened his push and revealed what existed beyond the door.

"Seriously, what is this place?..."

The door opened to an outdoors drenched in a dreary atmosphere. Amorphous streaks of massive clouds congealed into a completely ashen sky, save for one odd bloat of dull white to Makoto's right, suggestive of the sun or the moon. Below the nebulous sky stood a symmetrical arrangement of rectangular brick buildings around a path paved by jagged stones. A dearth of sound permeated through the stagnant locale, from the opaque windows on the third floor of each building to the landing covered with translucent slime just below his feet. From the exit, he could not feel any breeze, yet his skin still registered a change in temperature from the interior's confined cold to the greater environment's expansive tepidness.

Makoto hoped that, this time, anyone would answer the question he had raised primarily for himself. He did not move an inch, not even as he felt his friends lightly push him for a few seconds before relenting. The strange place invaded his senses throughout the indefinite pause.

Perhaps as a malicious twisting of his desires, fate would grant Makoto a galvanizing reply. Down the left path of the gradually curving road and behind the buildings echoed a ghastly cackle with properties of the familiar. Mirthful and deranged, the cackle overthrew the moribund silence permeating the town. His mind recognized the laugh, and it spurred him to jump to the pavement.

"Guys! That laugh is––" Makoto began.

"It's Jack's! We have to check it out!" Aoi declared as she sprinted through the doorway and blurred past Makoto, disappearing in a matter of seconds.

"... Is running down a creepy road like that smart?" Hiro asked.

Byakuya casually stepped through the door and followed Aoi. "No. No it isn't. But that is Jack's laugh... Much as I would rather run the opposite direction of it, we need her help. Come along now and hope Aoi attracts whatever danger may be down the path."

The group walked down the increasingly foggy street, still surrounded by dark buildings of unknown purpose and occupants. Just as the curving of the road dwindled, a running noise escaped the fog. Kyoko stopped first and steadied herself, with the rest of the group following suit. Makoto prepared for the worst as signs of movement became visible ahead of him. In a flash, Aoi materialized from the fog and nearly slid on the wet stone as she stopped in front of the group, gasping for air.

"Aoi, what did you find?" Kyoko held the shaking Aoi.

"J-Jack! She's fighting––she's fighting some monster! B-but it's––I can't believe something could be so fast!"

"Oh no... oh no! We got to go save her!" Makoto yelled, running past Aoi and disappearing into the fog. He swore he heard Kyoko shout his name, but his mind was set on Toko. He burst through more of the haze, hearing distant footsteps behind him and what sounded like clanking and shrill snarling ahead him. He came to a halt as he reached the source of the sounds, looking onward with a fearful countenance.

Genocide Jack crouched lithely a few feet away from him, her scissors glistening on her fingers and a reptilian tongue wriggling into what could only be described as an expression of maniacal glee. Her feverish eyes met Makoto's.

"Ehhhhh~? BIG MAC! It's been awhile, ole' buddy of mine! You caught me in a bit of a bad time, but it's nice to see you're hanging in there! KYEHAHAHAHA!" Jack spun her scissors excitedly.

Makoto clenched his fist and waved his hand out. "Jack! I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm so glad you're safe! Where's the monster?! Did you beat it, or do you need help distracting it?!"

"Aw, are you about to confess your undying affection for moi? Oh, you're so valiant I'm having a hard time containing myself!... Ah, the monster? Well, it's not really a monster––unless you wet your bed at the thought of watching a mummy movie––but that bandage face is being a real pain! Good thing you have them preoccupied already! You don't need to do any more distracting if my aim is juuusst right..."

"H-hey hey, what do you mean I have them preoccupied...? What's all this about bandages and mummies and––please stop aiming at me!"

"Fine, fine. Missing out on a perfect shot though!" Jack feinted a throw. "Well, remember when I said you were hanging in there?"

"Y-yeah...?"

"Yeaaahhh, I was kind of being literal."

It suddenly dawned on Makoto that he was slanted at an angle sufficient for a painful introduction to the ground. The pathetic gyrations of his arms only stopped when he understood that he wasn't in the middle of falling. He breathed out in relief, only for that relief to change into shock as a pull on his back neck put him on his feet. His palms were sweaty as he inched around to where the pull came from.

A humanoid stood over Makoto at an uncomfortably close distance. Layers of white bandage wrapped around them, masking their head and body. They wore a tattered open longcoat over khakis, boots, and black gloves. The sole human aspect of the figure was an unwrapped right eye, pale blue and looking down upon him. He stared back.

"..."

"..."

"... You're acquainted with her." The figure slowly pointed to Jack's location, their gaze unmoving. Makoto did not realize the monotonous murmur originated from the figure until he noted the subtle motions, unique from the otherwise regularly dimensioned and inert wrappings, underneath the bandages where a mouth should be.

"Um... Y-yes I am," Makoto stammered.

"... Not denying it?"

"I... She's a friend of mine, and you were attacking her. Why should I deny it when she's in danger? If you're going to try and hurt her, I have to do what I can." Furrows appeared on his head.

Neither Makoto nor the figure partook in any activity that did not involve an acute observation of the other. Jack, who was poised for combat, stayed silent outside of a making a mocking yawn somewhere in the middle of stare down. If the two heard her yawn, they did not react to it. Eventually, though, Makoto's frown eased.

"So, why did you break my fall?" Makoto asked graciously.

The figure's eye widened, then closed. "... It was the right thing to do. I think you'll agree with––"

Before the figure finished speaking, they disappeared faster than Makoto could blink. Confused, he glanced around the perimeter of the street until he caught sight of the figure, vigilant and intimidating, on top of one of the buildings to his right. He stepped back and gazed with breathless awe at the figure. Then, Kyoko and the rest of the group came running into the tense sense.

"Makoto! Dude, try and not split with the group next time, alright?!" Hiro waved at Makoto. "Yo, you still with us man?"

"MASSSTER BYAKUYAAAAAA! My walking aphrodisiac! Now, ravish me with your scathing words, enthrall my mind with your throbbing manhood!" Jack darted to Byakuya's side.

"... Hello to you too, Jack." Byakuya groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

"State your business here," the figure demanded. Their voice roared down the enclosed street, portentous of ambiguous intent. All of the group started watching the figure, save for Kyoko and Makoto, who were already observing them beforehand. "You are friends with Jack. Are you also violent?"

Kyoko crossed her arms. "We have no intention of harming anyone. We just appeared here, so we're trying to find out what's going on. Jack may know more about this situation, so we've been searching for her. Restraining her won't be necessary––we've got her under control."

"Yes," Byakuya pushed Jack's embrace away from his arm, "completely under control..."

"An inexplicable arrival?..." The figure turned its head slightly left and looked off to somewhere. "... Do you recognize the phrase, 'Hope's Peak Academy'?"

"Hope's Peak Academy?" Makoto's eyes glinted. "Yes! We're former students of Hope's Peak!" From his vision's extremities, he saw his friends cast a disapproving glance at him.

"... Your other friend is honest." The figure descended the building as suddenly as they ascended it. "Follow me. Question Jack, but maintain peace."

"Before we follow you," Kyoko voice wavered in pitch, "can I ask why you and Jack fought?"

The figure averted eye contact. "... It was no fight. She wandered through while I was watching this path. She looked frightened, so I approached. Unfortunately, I intimidated her: she pulled a taser and shocked herself. I did not know what to make of it. Then she rose up and attacked. I dodged and evaluated her." They glared at Jack. "Blood taints you, Genocide Jack. Justice will punish what I must spare."

"Chump! I'm way over my BLOODLUST FEVER phase! Plus, that was just a test drive––a revving up of my psychotic vengeance! You wanna dance again, I'll cut those bandages into ribbons before you can run home to your mommy, mummy!" Jack's tongue coiled as if it were leering at the figure.

"That would be unwise." The figure's coat bristled with a mysterious energy.

Byakuya snorted. "Jack, cease this nonsense and kneel before me. Your master requires knowledge."

Jack's tongue lay on a stone, longing to slither closer to Byakuya's feet. "Huhu, doggy style... perfect for a bitch like me. What do you need?"

"We've been investigating the circumstances behind our strange presence here, and our current theory is that we were transported here directly after our reunion. This would mean that our memories have not been tampered with and no significant amount of time has passed. Since you and Toko don't share memories, you may remember something we don't. So, what is the last thing you remember?" Byakuya commanded.

"I was in a hotel room making scissors. My better half went to bed at midnight, so I was free to make up for lost time––And lost scissors! Let me be the first to say, travel security are a bunch of lameasses! You go in carrying your handmade, exquisitely crafted weapons near and dear to your lady bits, and they just go 'yap yap security risk yap yap'! Least, that's all the details Toko gave me, and she likes to yap too... What was I saying again? Oh right! I made scissors until 2 A.M., when I needed to get some snoozes. I lie on my bed, feeling ever so lonely without beautiful master next to me, and the next thing I know I'm making fighting eyes with mummy! That's all I've got, loves!"

"I see... Jack, you've served your purpose. Go away." Byakuya waved his hand.

"No need to rush things! She'll be back in three... two... one." Jack started convulsing at the end of the countdown, relaxing flat on the pavement after it was over. Her body then lifted itself up, revealing Toko's modest features.

"I-is it over? To give Jack some credit, she makes for a fantastic attack dog––" She froze at the figure standing in front of her. "Oh. This isn't good."

"... I apologize for earlier. Are you hurt?" The figure scanned Toko's body.

"W-what, suddenly grew a heart for the loser you scared? Think redemption is something that easy to obtain? I-If you're talking about the taser, don't worry. It's my way of taming her." Toko pointed at the figure. "A-and stop ogling me, you pervert! My body is the property of one man, and that's not you! If you even are a man... You could just be some kinky butch too..."

"...?" The figure tilted their head. "The man you seek is behind you."

"You think I'd fall for an elementary school trick like that?" Toko sniffed the air, then bolted around. "Oh, you were right! Master Byakuya, m-my hero! I thought I would travel this terrible terrain 'til my hair grew gray and weary wrinkles weathered away my features, but, like Orpheus, you have come to rescue me from this––"

"Shut up." Toko remained silent after Byakuya's demand. "Now, how did you get here?"

"I woke up in front of a strange door. I was drowsy, so I just decided to open it and continue down a flight of stairs on the other side. I opened another door at the end of the stairs and saw this place. I was confused and scared, so I wanted to find you or anyone else. I walked for a while until that thing emerged from the fog. I didn't want to take any chances, so I summoned Jack. Now I'm here."

"Well, at least that explains why you weren't with us. You weren't awake enough to check the room and find us," Aoi said.

"So... the gang's all here, huh? Wonderful, this can only mean we're part of something awful." Toko sighed.

"... You are not alone. Come with me: I have got something I want to show you." The figure began walking down the path. "... Plus, you will need protection in this unusual land."

Makoto followed the figure, even though his friends did not.

"Hey, by the way," Makoto smiled at the figure, "I almost forgot to say thank you. I'm a bit of a klutz when I'm not devoting my attention to balance. Really, Toko should thank you, too: you were just trying to help. Course, I'd be scared too if I woke up in this place alone. Guess we can just chalk this fiasco up to poor communication, huh?"

"... I suppose you could." The figure marched on.

"So, um, why did you ask about Hope's Peak Academy? Seems like a random question." He kept his pace.

"You'll learn soon enough." The figure slowed down.

"Hm... I guess I will!" He also slowed down.

"You're cooperative. That's... nice." The figure put their hands in their pockets.

"Is it? I don't see what's so special about it." He put his hands on the back of his neck.

"... Get your friends." The figure stopped in place.

He looked behind himself. " Huh. It's a strange day when I'm consistently the bravest of the bunch. I'll be back with them."

He ran back off into the fog, finding his friends a little while later. "Hey, guys! Get over here already!"

"Makoto, it might do you well to think things through before you follow someone like that in a place like this," Kyoko said.

Makoto tilted his head. "No, I think we can trust them."

"You just met them."

"Well, true. But..." he grinned, "you were in their position not too long ago."

"... That person was right." Kyoko shook her head as she started walking towards him. "You are honest. And you never learn from your mistakes."

"Guilty as charged. Now, let's see what that person has to show us."

When the group arrived at the figure's destination, many points of intrigue appeared. The road broadened out to form what may have been a town circle, with two other roads connecting to it. At the heart of the circle was a grand fountain, which flowed water through alien figurines. To the left stood a red tower which scraped the sky with its pointed roof and had a blackened bell resting in a cavity near its top. To the right, there were two wooden building connected by an integrated balcony. At the far end of the circle was a long stone edifice with rows of indented pillars supporting its triangular roof. Most noteworthy of all were the nine people dotting the circle's area.

One of these people, a bespectacled, well-dressed boy with slicked brown hair, stood a few meters from the group. He had watched the group's approach with a curious expression, and when they had stopped, he walked up to the figure.

"Newcomers? I trust you've deemed them safe to bring here?" the boy asked.

"The girl over there may require supervision, but I think we can trust them," The figure replied, pointing to Toko.

"S-supervision?!" Toko muttered. "You don't even feel shame for saying that near me, do you? Typical..."

"... Hm. She seems nice enough." The boy shrugged. "You aren't usually this lenient unless you're dealing with Hide, though. What's special about these people?"

"I think it's best if you figure that out yourself," the figure said, their voice notably brighter. "You might be in for a pleasant surprise."

"Really now?" The boy raised an eyebrow. "Interesting... alright, I'll humor you."

The boy met the group. He stood in front of Byakuya, whom he was only barely shorter than.

"You look like the authority among your companions," the boy said.

"And you appear to be perceptive." Byakuya couldn't hold back a grin, even as the rest of the group (save Toko) rolled their eyes.

"That insignia..." The boy's sight was drawn to the symbol on Byakuya's suit. "You're part of the Future Foundation, as are the rest of you."

"Right you are. Future Foundation, 14th division, Byakuya Togami."

"Togami? Yes, of course! The Togami family's influence extends even to the Future Foundation... truly, a most worthy dynasty."

"An immutable truth that needs little repeating. But what makes you think you're even fit to describe my lineage?"

"I have the credentials." The boy smiled. "One more thing, though: if you are part of the Future Foundation, then it's safe to say you are related to Hope's Peak Academy, right? Are you a graduate from there?"

"Of a fashion, though I didn't so much graduate from Hope's Peak as it collapsed on itself without my direct guidance." Byakuya sighed. "If you must know, I am part of the 78th class. In fact, all of us are members of that class."

The boy reeled back, his mouth open. "I-impossible... the 78th class? I've heard... I've written so many things about you... and here you are?!"

Byakuya glowered at the now prostrate boy. "Oh get up, you lamb. If I needed fawning idiots, I'd stroll down Wall Street. Yes, I survived the killing game and ended the ultimate despair's miserable life––can we be done with this?"

"R-right, my apologies," the boy stood back up, brushing some dirt off of his suit, "it's just... you see..."

"Yes? What is it?"

"... I'm also a student of Hope's Peak Academy. Well, more accurately, my peers and I are all going to be students at Hope's Peak Academy."

"Wait..." Byakuya paused.

"What...?" Makoto thought.

"Yes, it looks like the honor of hosting one Hope's Peak class falls on an up-and-coming Hope's Peak class. So, welcome to this strange seaside town. I'm Takato Abe, the Ultimate Editorialist of Hope's Peak Academy's 79th class."