Notes: Hello once again, dear readers! Now, this chapter was a blast to write-and that fact probably explains its length! It's time to meet the rest of the cast, who you can all expect to live uneventful lives, grow old, and look back on this and laugh. Scout's honor on that declaration! Do tell me your opinions on the new students: who do you take a liking to? In a completely hypothetical scenario where they have to participate in a killing game, who'd be the first one to go and the first one to do the dirty deed? It's important to note that the 78th class is not exempt from that game, either...
On a more (or less) serious note, Danganronpa 3 in four more days! Rejoice, for the hype is real! I'm still going to write even as the anime is airing, but I can't promise you that I won't be distracted by it!
Now then, let's begin!
Makoto wanted to run; unfortunately, his stiff body trapped him in place. His gut churned while his mind fluttered from explanation to explanation regarding the dramatic revelation.
"Takato Abe... Tell me more about yourself." Byakuya pushed his glasses up with a trembling hand.
"Well, I would love to, but," Takato looked at the faces of the group and frowned, "something seems to be troubling you. Did I offend in any way?"
Toko, her face red, pointed a finger at Takato. "Offend? You think you can just up and claim you're a member of a class that doesn't exist and not offend us?!"
"... You don't hold your tongue." Takato smirked. "As expected of miss Toko Fukawa!"
"How do you know who I am?!" Toko screamed, specks of spit bulleting from her mouth.
"Comes with the trade. I've written a few reviews of your romance novels. Call me a fan." Takato seemed unaffected by the small stains coating his suit.
Up closer, Makoto had to appreciate Takato's debonair qualities. Takato wore a dark brown suit with a red waistcoat, trousers, dress shoes, and a white dress shirt. Adroit hands must have tied his brown tie, and a conspicuous watch ticked away on his right wrist. Makoto couldn't shake the feeling that Takato looked a bit too young for his clothing, though: his baby-face and round, pinkish-blue eyes seemed better suited in something less professional.
"F-fan, huh...?" Toko pushed her two index fingers together and looked down. "D-don't think I'm going to give you a free autograph, or something. You still haven't answered my question, too!"
Takato chuckled, then pulled out a folded paper from his jacket. "Then I'll consider it a goal to earn your autograph. Firstly, I'll address your question: read this, and it should inform you of everything you need to know." He handed the paper to Byakuya, who hesitated before taking it.
"... 'Dear Takato Abe,'" Byakuya read aloud, "'We of the Future Foundation have found your accomplishments to be signs of a great potential to aid humanity. In our turbulent era, a new generation of leaders must be cultivated to build a shining future dreamed of since the dawn of time. Given that need, it is our pleasure to inform you that you have been selected to attend the restored Hope's Peak Academy as a member of the 79th class, designated as The Ultimate Editorialist. Bear in mind that the reopening of Hope's Peak Academy has yet to be publicly revealed, so it would be best if you do not reveal the contents of this letter unless approached by members of the Future Foundation. We will contact you again when everything is finalized; until then, we hope you will cherish this opportunity to open the door to a shining future.'" He paused. "'Sincerely, Kazuo Tengan.'"
No one made a noise as Byakuya's speech spread and dissipated through the air. Makoto remembered that dreadful article in the silence, its account less prophetic and more spurious regarding the actual progress made by the Future Foundation, and gritted his teeth. Even now, he was still an ignorant pawn of a greater authority. He looked at Takato with narrow eyes, and stood silent. Takato caught a glimpse of Makoto during the silence and lowered his smile.
"... Heh." Makoto let out a sudden, soft laugh. "Maybe this is... exactly where we needed to be."
"What are you getting at?" Takato asked.
"We didn't have much of a clue about the Future Foundation's plans for Hope's Peak Academy. The higher-ups didn't trust us––maybe for good reason, though that's another story for another day––but we made up our minds about rebuilding Hope's Peak together. I guess they were one step ahead of us... But, you know, I think we can offer our input in a more direct way." He smiled, his eyes clear and filled with life. "I'm Makoto Naegi, the Ultimate Lucky Student of the 78th class. Whatever's going on, I'm here to help."
Slowly but surely, the others of the group started to straighten up, readjust themselves, and look at Takato with emboldened features. Takato, for his part, couldn't hide back a toothy smile. Even the figure, who had eyed the conversation from a comfortable distance away, may have then trotted to the group with some spring in their step.
Takato turned his head to Kyoko. "Your friend there is... infectious. I somehow doubt he's just the ultimate lucky student."
"Believe me, I think so too," Kyoko said. "I'm Kyoko Kirigiri, The Ultimate Detective."
"I'm Aoi Asahina, The Ultimate Swimming Pro!"
"You ever need a fortune, come see me: The Ultimate Clairvoyant, Yasuhiro Hagakure!"
"So, what makes you above and beyond the common editorialist?" Byakuya asked expectantly.
"It's something of a long story," Takato began, walking at the front of the group to the central fountain occupied by three faces. "I suppose I was born with a love for politics and a talkative nature: I started reading news magazines at around six, and I was always struck by the ignorance endemic in the medium's writers. On a whim, I sent a letter to The New York Times detailing my critique of one of their featured opinion pieces regarding a political event when I was twelve. They liked it––enough to insist I keep writing from them. From then on, other news outlets fought to have my writings appear on their publications. The rest is history."
"Twelve?! isn't that a bit young for a kid to talk politics? I still feel like that stuff goes over my head!" Aoi rubbed her head in jest.
"Well, I don't think it quite compares to being a literary star before middle school," Takato replied, glancing at Toko. Her expression could best be described as miffed.
Byakuya smirked. "Hmph... I suppose that's adequate. You don't seem unintelligent, even though I haven't come across your name in my readings. Then again, I don't care for the majority of news outlets."
"You and I don't inhabit the same spheres of power yet, so I'm not surprised you aren't aware of me. I intend to make my way up in the world, though..." Takato stared off into space.
Makoto was to the side of the group, and he listened to Takato's self-summary with a preoccupied mind. He was sure Takato had much more to elaborate on, but he also had to gauge anything of interest about the three individuals he was approaching. Seated on the base of the fountain, engraved with a pattern of spiral vines, was a green haired boy, with yellow eyes and teeth of pearl shown through a large smile, who had two girls standing beside him. One girl, ponytailed and wearing a beige kimono, grinned at the boy; the other girl, with scarlet lips and coquettish posture, laughed with fluttering eyelashes. Takato's approach attracted the almond eye of the flirtatious girl, who stretched upwards and sauntered to him.
"Takato, finally loosening up?" The flirtatious girl winked. "What's happen'en, buddy?"
"I will never get used to your colloquialisms, Asami..." Takato pinched his forehead. "If you'd look behind me, you'd see 'what's happen'en'."
"I only tease the ones I like," the flirtatious girl crooned. When she looked behind Takato, her blue top hat jumped into the air, revealing a small white bunny nestled in straight pink hair. "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Who?!"
"You know what I didn't wake up this morning for?" The kimono girl grabbed the top hat drooping over her forehead. "Your fucking hat on my face! Watch where you're throwing your sh––" Her face was on the group. "––it."
The boy watched the scene unfold before him with an exuberant countenance. As soon as he could, he sprung to his feet and ran to the newcomers.
"Yo! Looks like today's going to be one to remember!" The energetic boy gave a thumbs up. "Tak, why've you been holding out on me, man? I was itching for some more company!"
"I apologize for the inconvenience," Takato replied. "I didn't find them, however: you can thank Ahodori for that."
"Badass! Ma, get over're and give me five!" The energetic boy raised his hand in the air. The figure, whose head tilt Makoto picked up on as he stood by her side, walked to the boy and gave a silent high-five.
"Hahaha! Always knew you could have some fun! Anyways," The energetic boy expanded his chest, perhaps to appear more larger than life than he already was, "it's great to meet you guys! How'd you end up in these boonies?"
"Hey there!" Aoi chirped. "I dig your attitude! But ah, we don't exactly know how we got here."
"Bummer," the boy sighed, "we're in the same boat. We've been in this creepy place for..."
"Around seven weeks, if my starting point is accurate," Takato remarked.
"Perhaps." The figure pointed to the still dot beyond the clouds. "That body of light might mean we can't rely on standard methods of measuring time, though: no sun I know remains in one place for so long."
"Maybe that ball is, like, a projection?" The flirtatious girl cuddled her rabbit. "A trick like that... yeah, that's radical!"
"Nah, don't start spouting junk like that!" Hiro raised a finger in the air. "The Illuminati's good, but not that good. 'Sides, if the sun were fake, how'd Ra grant me his blessing?!"
"Illuminati?... Ugh, you looked like the type to believe that bogus." The flirtatious girl wagged a gloved finger at Hiro, with her rabbit eyeing Hiro with crimson irises. "You need to read your books, bro! The Illuminati is just a dumb fad! I can prove it!"
"A-ah! I-it's Usami! Why's Usami here?!"
"Usami?!" The rabbit's incisors were made bare. "I'll have you know my lil' bro is named Woundwort!"
"G-get that monster away from me, crazy chick! And update your lingo––it isn't the 80s anymore!"
The two digressed. The once calming ambiance of the fountain's flowing water was ravaged by their brutish dialog. Everyone else around the fountain gawked at it.
"... What are they even talking about?" Makoto asked.
"Oh, they're probably just having a competition to see who can kill the most of my brain cells..." Toko squinted. "Actually, though... something feels familiar about this..."
"Trust me," the kimono girl groaned out as she met Makoto with refined steps, "this isn't the dumbest crap Asami's pulled." She looked down on him. "You're kind of a shrimp, you know."
"Huh?! Well..." Makoto fiddled with his feet. "I m-mean, yeah. Is my height really the first thing you want to say about me?"
The girl smiled. "Nah, it's nothing against you: just checking to see if you had any sparring potential. Guess you could watch in the sidelines as I show off my skills, at least!"
"Skills..." Kyoko said. "Hm, I don't believe we can properly introduce ourselves if we don't know our skills––or our talents. What do you think?"
"Talents?" The girl grinned. "So... you guys finally showed up. Was wondering whether this was just some big initiation event from The Future Foundation."
"No way... Did... did you know about this, Takato?!" The energetic boy asked.
"It was as much of a surprise to me as I'm sure it is for you," Takato replied. He managed to suppress the heated discussion between Hiro and the flirtatious girl and got them to side with their friend groups. "Standing before you are the members of the 78th class of Hope's Peak Academy. Honor them as you would your parents." The three youths stood straight up and widened their eyes as Takato revealed the identity of the group.
"Byakuya Togami. Ultimate Affluent Progeny."
"Name's Aoi Asahina, The Ultimate Swimming Pro! Call me Hina, if you want!"
"...I'm T-toko Fukawa. I'm... The Ultimate Writing Prodigy."
"Yasuhiro Hagakure! But please, call me Hiro, The Ultimate Clairvoyant!"
"My name is Kyoko Kirigiri, and I'm The Ultimate Detective."
"And I'm Makoto Naegi. I got into Hope's Peak Academy because of a lottery, so I'm The Ultimate Lucky Student. It's nice to meet you!"
It looked as though the fountain had three statues at its base. For a long while, the three youths could only gawk at the 78th class.
Then, the energetic boy suddenly squatted down and raised his arms to the air at an angle. "And I'm... DAISUKE OTA! THE ULTIMATE DAREDEVIL!" Daisuke wore a red t-shirt that clung to his well-built chest. Below it was a shredded pair of blue shorts and sandals. His spiky hair ran down his head and to a black holed collar wrapped around his neck.
"To the audience: are you stoked for this?" The vibrant voice of the flirtatious girl resonated throughout the fountain area. Makoto looked around, but couldn't locate her.
Suddenly, a recognizable top hat glided on the air just above the fountainhead. It twirled in the weak breeze like a dandelion seed, and the many stones, each unique in their size, luster, and color, decorating the hat produced, in motion, a variegated river of transient twinkles. As the river reached the middle of the fountain, the hole of the top hat jerked to face the audience. And from within the darkness inside the hole, a gloved hand reached out; and, trailing the hand's shocking ejection, one lepus head and one humanoid head emerged from the top hat. In the shortest of seconds, the complete image of the flirtatious girl and her rabbit appeared before the group, as intoxicated by their phantasmal display as they were graceful in their fall to the tip of the fountain's base. The flirtatious girl, in a blue and pink bejeweled dress and white boots, struck a pose as her top hat landed right on her head.
"Welcome: Asami Seishin! If they're not Houdini or Robert-Houdin, then they can't compare to The Ultimate Magician!"
"Whoa..." Makoto gaped at the marvelous scene.
Kyoko narrowed her eyes and darted her sights across the fountain for a long while. "... Impressive. How did you accomplish it?"
"Ah-ah-ah~" Asami tipped her hat. "A professional never reveals her secrets. All I can say is that everything you've seen is 100% a trick." She stuck a tongue out at Hiro. "NOT magic."
"Fair enough." Kyoko clapped politely, though Makoto knew where her priorities really were behind her closed eyes.
"Nice smoke and mirrors, Asami," the girl in the kimono strutted to the front of the fountain with a mocking shrug, "but allow me to show The Future Foundation real talent. I've been called many things: slayer, conqueror... even a hero. But most people know me as... The Ultimate Ninja, Murasaki Kaneko!"
The area was quiet. Makoto rubbed the back of his head, flummoxed by the introduction. Daisuke stood up and coughed.
"Hey... uh, Saki..." Daisuke said. "It's cool that you like ninjas, but––"
"But what? I'm the ultimate fucking ninja!"
"Y-you're totally the coolest ninja I know! But... these guys probably want us to be... upfront, y'know?"
Murasaki's face, one stretched out into a smile, gradually lowered into a foul expression. "'Y'know', that collar of yours is looking loose. Want me to tighten it for you?"
"Haha! If you dare me, I'll do it myself!" Daisuke's smile appeared again.
"Murasaki, get serious and tell them your real title," the figure ordered. Their blue eye had a bird of prey's focus.
"..." Murasaki breathed out heavily. "Yes, sensei. I'll be the ultimate ninja... in the future. Right now, I guess you can call me The Ultimate Janitor." She retreated her hands behind her and looked down. She wasn't unattractive, with her sharp features and cool gray eyes. If fact, Makoto would have assumed she was the ultimate ninja before assuming she was in her element scrubbing a dirty floor. "N-not that you should use that title a lot, though."
"I suppose I've seen more inconsequential talents..." Byakuya did not even glance their way as he spoke. "Are you going to elaborate, or should we go now?"
"Whoa whoa, chill man," Daisuke protested. "Well, there's not much I gotta tell you: I do crazy shit 'cause it's fun and 'cause other people like seeing me do it. Ever climbed Mount Everest barefooted? Kinda gives you a new perspective on the clothing industry. My stunts haven't killed me yet, so I ain't quitting anytime soon. My motto is: It's only impossible if I can't do it!"
"Hehe, but I can totally make the impossible look possible," Asami added. "Not to brag, but I'm making big bucks with my performances throughout the globe. I started out small, needing to make some cash and too bombing to just set up a lemon stand, so I showed off some magic tricks I studied. People loved the retreads, but I think I really hit my stride when I started making up my own tricks when the old ones got super easy. Now, I'm making a profit and having fun! Can't beat a deal like that, right?!"
"... I clean shit, and people think I'm good at it." Saki shrugged. "It's just some random thing. Nothing major about it. Back home, we needed to separate all of our home duties to specific people. I, uh, tidied up the mess after a long day of work. I was also to be the best damn student in my elementary school, cause I'd actually eat my snacks and leave the cafeteria squeaky clean!"
"Ah, that reminds me: what did you mean when you called––Ahodori, I think?––sensei?" Makoto asked.
Murasaki held her head high and put her hands on her hips. "You noticed, eh? It's exactly what it sounds like: the ultimate ninja needs to hone their skills with strong opponents! Sensei's a beast, but Sensei is also kind enough to spar with me! Sensei wins... most of the time... b-but I learned a lot from it!"
The figured nodded as Murasaki spoke. "As have I. Enthusiasm for this old bird's teachings is much appreciated. Remember, though, no sharp objects or dangerous stunts in tomorrow's session."
"Yes, sensei!" Murasaki bowed.
"Hey... Ahodori." Makoto froze as their icy eye overlooked him. "Y-you don't mind if I use your name now?"
"... Not at all. Did I give that impression?"
"Honestly? Sort of. But anyways... what was with Daisuke calling you 'ma'?" He grabbed his chin. "Also, I don't think we've properly introduced ourselves, so––"
"Ahaha!" Daisuke's unexpected arm around the figure's shoulder shook their indistinct, bandaged face. "Man, Dori's everyone's ma! She's been caring for us like a hen watching her eggs since we arrived here! Actually––before that! Point is, she's awesome!"
"She...?" Makoto parsed the figure's body as subtly as he could.
"... Yes, I'm a woman," The figure said impassively. "My title's The Ultimate Repentance Seeker. My name's... Ahodori Kuroashi."
"Ultimate... repentance seeker?" Makoto mumbled.
"Yes."
"... Ok... It's, um, nice to meet you, Ahodori."
"... You too."
"Ahem," Takato asserted himself, "I believe we still have more of our friends to greet. Saki, Daisuke, Asami, thank you for cooperating."
"Hey hey, no problem Tak! Seeya guys around!" Daisuke waved the group a hearty farewell.
"Come by any time if you wanna see something excellent!" Asami did likewise.
"Hey, chumps! Remember the name Murasaki Kaneko! It will soon be the name of the howl of death!" Murasaki's voice followed the group even as her visage disappeared into the tenebrous fog.
The group traveled to the ominous bell tower, their footsteps echoing in the dull environment. Makoto, hopeful that his friends received the first batch of newcomers well, tapped on Kyoko's shoulder.
"Hey," Makoto said, "what'd you think of those kids?"
Kyoko crossed her arms. "Interesting word choice. Are you assuming I'm old?"
"... I don't remember you being this snarky..."
"And I don't remember you being this observant." A demure smile grew on Kyoko's face.
"I guess your reign as the ultimate detective is about to come to an end, then." Makoto smirked.
"You're welcome to try and take it. I've got other things on my mind." She averted her eyes from Makoto. "How'd she do it..."
"Hm?" Makoto stretched his head out in an attempt to see Kyoko's face.
"Makoto." A serene voice hummed in Makoto's right ear. In most situations, a sudden utterance of his name would have startled him, but the strange warmth of the voice neutralized his nerves. He shifted his head to the right with an owl's tranquility.
"Oh... Ahodori. What's up?"
"... Do you like the 79th class so far?"
"Ha, were you eavesdropping on me just now?"
"Sensitive hearing. I don't mean to intrude, but I was curious."
"I'd bet. You're like a guardian for the rest of the group, of course you'd be concerned about how others receive them."
"... Answer the question."
"Ah, well... so far, I like them!" Makoto put his hands behind his head. "They all seem to be taking this place pretty well. They're... different, but I've met odder people before. I'm just glad that every one of them seems to be friends with each other."
"Heh..." It was a surreal, the depiction of a completely bandaged 'woman', chuckling and holding a hand over her already covered mouth. Makoto wondered whether it was an intentional action.
"Makoto, we've stopped walking." Kyoko's voice tensed Makoto's body. He looked in front of himself: a brick wall was an inch away from scrapping his nose.
"What the––?!" Makoto jumped back.
Toko rolled her eyes. "Did you seriously almost walk into a wall?"
"What did you expect from him?" Byakuya grunted. "He's good at bumping into things that he shouldn't."
"That's... unfortunate." Takato sighed. "Oh, he'll be finding himself in good company now..."
"... Hm..." Ahodori turned her back from the group.
As Makoto stared up the wall, he recognized it as the bell tower. It domineered over him, radiating a baleful bubble of energy which Makoto struggled to free himself from. With deliberate steps, each foot weighed down by the fearsome burden, Makoto eluded the tower's presence and looked around. He saw that a garden encompassed the entrance of the bell tower. Two rows of untrimmed shrubbery marked the path to the unremarkable door to the bell tower. Some arrangements of rose beds added to the somewhat wanting color palette of the grassy garden, and a young tree seemed to be growing well at the right end of the garden.
Makoto saw a pale girl inspecting the blossoming roses on his side of the garden. To the other side of the garden, he saw a freckled boy sitting at the base of the tree, his eyes closed and a subtle smile on his face. He swore he caught sight of some movement to the far end of the garden, but whatever was making the blurry motions seemed to have made an effort to dissemble itself into the heart of the fog.
"What the––" Takato put his hand on his head. "Oh, grow up Lemeza! It's only six people!"
"S-s-six is too much!" The animated voice of the running thing darted towards the group as its speaker ran away from them.
"Oh my," the girl said, rose in hand as she watched on, "precious darling, to where will you flee to? Surely you must be aware that you are in my web, forever and ever..."
"E-Emily, please stoopppppppp...!" The voice faded away.
"... So, uh, what was that all about?" Aoi's eyebrows were stuck in a raise.
"He is... sensitive," Ahodori replied.
"A nervous wreck is probably what you're getting at." Kyoko frowned.
"Mmm... Nervous wrecks... Melville at his desk..." the boy under the tree mumbled dreamily.
"I see Hide is doing what he does best..." Takato sighed. "Why did I even bother trying to make him useful, the lazy––"
"Hush." Ahodori glared at Takato, and Makoto shivered just from her voice. Takato seemed to shrivel into himself in front of Makoto.
"Good. Everyone, give me a minute." Ahodori marched towards the sleeping boy, her path direct and coordinated by a most willing and flexible 78th class.
"Hide, it's time to wake up," Ahodori said with a hushed voice. She gave the sleepy boy's slim shoulder a nearly imperceptible touch. Nonetheless, he stirred awake in the fashion of a child's gentle descent into slumber.
"It appears my bed has transformed into a tree while I slept on it." The sleepy boy yawned as he got on his feet. "Quaint."
"You fell asleep on the tree after a hard day's work searching for supplies. Life is strange, but not quite that strange." Ahodori's voice perked.
"... Nice tree, then." The sleepy boy shrugged, opening his green eyes and looking around himself. "Hello, strangers. Were they found in our daily search, Takato?"
"Ahodori brought these people to us just now..." Takato said, his face tense. "You... did your part. Thank you."
"I should be the one thanking you. Brilliant idea to search for resources, and your leadership is formidable." The sleepy boy clapped his hands together. "Hm, where has your little fly gone to, Emilia?"
"Oh, here and there." The girl with roses played with her flowers. " The terror of the crowd compelled him to reckless abandon. I do hope that he keeps himself safe, in this misty town I recall from a night's bosom so very long ago..."
"Yes. Let's go get Lemeza now. When we get back, you can introduce yourself to the new faces, ok?" Ahodori looked at the sleepy boy.
"I certainly will, but only with Lemeza around. Now, onward to our quest." The sleepy boy and Ahodori left for the skittish boy.
Byakuya shook his head. "For future reference, is this Lemeza character always this much of a liability?"
"No... in fact, you'll find out he's quite a valuable asset, in a very specific environment." Takato straightened his tie up and approached the girl with roses. "Emilia, would you care to introduce yourself now?"
The girl with roses scanned the group, resting her eye on Makoto's. He, for his part, was sure that he'd seen that creepy red gaze somewhere before. "I will wait for our friends' return. Would it not be the greatest sign of pretense to give an immediate introduction, as though I deserved top-billing?"
"... Are you making fun of me?" Takato bit his lip.
"Now why would I? It was Ahodori who discovered our guests, no? Surely, I should be targeting my jests at her, if such was my intent." The girl with roses chuckled, though to Makoto the chuckle more resembled a controlled cackle.
"Emilia, a tip from a friend: don't write your own lines. You talk like a cartoon, and an obtuse one at that."
"And yet, I have single-handedly revived the gothic horror genre... Well, at least you can relish in the fact that Asami does not pen my scripts."
"... Point taken."
The group only had to wait for a minute before Ahodori, the sleepy boy, and the skittish boy surfaced from the fog. Ahodori walked ahead of the two boys, her hand clenched around the jittery hand of the skittish boy. The sleepy boy shifted his feet through the stone path while the skittish boy seemed to be mired in it. Once they came to a stop, Ahodori let go of the skittish boy's hand and stood next to the sleepy boy.
"..." The skittish boy squeezed his mouth shut, causing his mocha eyes to enlarge and appear mouselike. Makoto pitied the skittish boy, now that he could take a look at the still skittish boy. The skittish boy was the tallest of the three in the row, with spiky, dark purple hair and light skin. He wore a brown flight jacket over a tan button-up shirt, a pair of cargo pants, and a muddy pair of boots. Most curious of all were the assortment of accessories on his body: from a water canister looped around his belt to the binoculars around his neck to the purple leather whip hanging on his waist, he had the presentation of a rugged survivor. So why did it look like a single disagreeing eye would have been enough to send him into a crying fit?
"Oh! My precious darling... I have been waiting for your return––or, rather, hungering..." The girl with roses crept towards the skittish boy, and with each step, her red eyes widened to an impossible degree. Her high cheekbones contorted her facial muscles into a caricature of a grin: it was as if it were the design of a delirious doll-maker, ignorant of even the idea of how a normal human face ought to look, who was given only a nebulous description of what constituted a smile. Beyond the ghastly girl's pallid lips rested two rows of jagged fangs, more fitting in this monstrous visage than if bared by an emaciated and mad hound. Makoto stood on, his heart racing, pounding in his chest, unable to tear his vision away as the nightmarish girl reached a willowy limb out to the skittish boy's chest... and placed a beautiful rose in his breast pocket.
"Hm..." The sleepy boy waved a slow hand in front of the skittish boy's eyes, which did not blink or otherwise react to the action. "I see. The fright has swallowed him so greatly that he has simply fainted on the spot. That has yet to happen to me, and that is a shame. A truly chilling performance would be just what I need!"
The girl giggled. "The best horror can be found only in unwilling subjects. I will have to wait until you do not desire my abilities to be displayed."
Hiro leaned his head back and into his hands, a smug look on his face. "Women."
"Hm." Toko observed her fingernails. "Must be nice having your mom be the only women who can tolerate you, then."
"For future reference," Takato faced Byakuya, "is this Hiro fellow always so... affable?"
"You have no idea..." Byakuya pinched his forehead.
"Returning to less depressing matters," Takato gestured to the girl with roses to join the row, "shall we begin our introductions? Hide, Emilia... Lemeza, meet the 78th class of Hope's Peak Academy, now Future Foundation members."
The 78th class introduced themselves as before, with the three youths' reactions varying from polite bow to sluggish nod to blank gaze.
"How my heart aches in placid Lemeza's absence. To occupy our time until his awakening, I shall introduce myself." The girl with roses offered a tiny hand. "Makoto, was it not? Please, do give me the honor of shaking the hand of the ultimate lucky student."
"M-me? Oh, well..." Makoto analyzed the girl with roses. Her hand was still, as was her smile. "... It'd be my pleasure."
As Makoto walked towards the girl with roses, Kyoko brushed next to him. "I don't trust her." He could only gulp in response.
Standing a foot away from the girl with roses provided Makoto the opportunity of appreciating her appearance. She was a petite youth who stood at his own height, with raven hair in a French braid. She wore a simple white dress of middle length, black lace boots, and a silk black glove over her right arm. It was the hand she was offering him, and he, in spite of the discomfort welling in his stomach as he saw a hint of those fangs from before peaking through her smile, knew he couldn't back out now.
With a grumble, Makoto grabbed the hand. He shook it like any other. He pulled out of it. The entire arm came with him.
It took Makoto a moment to realize he had a dismembered arm in his hand and a stream of blood pouring right on his chest. The strange face of the girl with rose didn't register any particular emotion in his dead mind, as did her shrill utterances.
"Huh..." Makoto muttered.
"My––M-my––WHAT THE FUCK?!" The girl with roses threw the roses on the ground and dropped to her knees. Her wide eyes fell on her empty right socket.
Aoi rushed to her side, sweat already precipitating on her face. "Oh my g-god! Someone, call for help!" She hugged the limbless girl. "I-it's ok! Just stay calm!"
"I-I'm going... going to..." The limbless girl stammered, "die..."
"... HOLY SHIT!" Makoto fell on his back and watched the arm plop on his stained chest.
"... Are you done yet?" A powerful voice came from behind Makoto. Before he could attempt to turn around, Kyoko had already raised him back on his feet and taken the arm into her hands, frowning at it.
"Kyoko, just what are you doing?!" Byakuya ran to Kyoko's side.
"Getting this stupid prank over with." Kyoko glared at the limbless girl. "You can stop crying."
"How... the FUCK ––do you... ugh..." The girl flopped on her side, causing Aoi to shriek.
"S-she's... s-she's..." Aoi stood up, her eyes dull.
"Dead? Hardly. She's perfectly healthy, if ethically bankrupt." Makoto only needed to hear the acid in Kyoko's voice to return to the moment.
"... Hehehe, I figured someone renowned as the ultimate detective would be one privy to my prank." The limbless girl stood up and bowed. Her right hand, gloved and all, had returned. "I will have to up the ante next time if I want to immerse even you in my web."
"An obvious limb switch? Fishing for the most trusting target? This wasn't some clever prank." Kyoko crossed her arms. "I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, but clearly, that was my mistake."
"You... you're..." Aoi's fist grew redder and redder as she clenched it in front of her.
"Hm? Whatever is the matter?" The girl raised an eyebrow.
"Are you a complete idiot?!" Byakuya gnashed his teeth. "Or are you just a sociopath?!"
"B-but..." The girl retreated backward.
"You," Toko pointed at Takato, "did you know about this beforehand?"
"Of course I did. I've had to live with Emilia for a long while." Takato stood unflinching, returning the stares of the 78th class with his own. "What Emilia does is her own business: I can't disavow her as my classmate, but she reaps what she sows. I will not fall with her."
"..." Kyoko patted Makoto on the shoulder. "Are you alright? We'll need to do something about your clothes later."
"... Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit light-headed is all." Makoto sighed and looked at the girl. "That wasn't very funny."
"I, um... No, no it was not." The girl held her hands.
"Just... just tell me who you are, and we'll move on," Makoto declared.
"... M-my n-name is Emilia Lugosi. I am titled The Ultimate Horror Movie Actress. I've starred in m-many horror movies of multiple genres. I, um, am talented in playing as either the monster role or the 'final girl'. M-my most famous role is Aranelizu the spider in the Terror of Coakley Avenue franchise." Emilia stood silent after that, her vision averted from everyone but the skittish boy.
"You're kidding, right?" Makoto frowned. "That's your real name?"
"Y-yes. I know it's... unorthodox. So," Emilia pulled an envelope from her dress pocket, which Kyoko scooped from her, "h-here. It confirms my name."
"..." Kyoko shook her head. "Looks like she's not a liar, at least."
"And who are you?" Makoto looked at the sleepy boy.
"Oh, yes, introductions." The sleepy boy had apparently slept on Ahodori's shoulder while the fiasco with Emilia had occurred. Ahodori seemed to be accepting of the sleepy boy's presence. "Greetings, 78th class. My name is Hidetaka Eno. Call me The Ultimate Slacker."
"... Ultimate Slacker?" Makoto's jaw drooped.
"Correct!" Hidetaka hummed.
Makoto rubbed his hair. "How is that even a talent...?"
"You know, I asked that very same question myself when my letter arrived." Hidetaka shrugged. "I never worked a day of my life, and my grades reflected it. To be frank, there were many other earnest students who surpassed me in the 'slacker' area––I just took the zeroes, but others went so far as to hack the system to change their grades. Odd then, how I was the one who received Hope's Peak Academy's invitation. But what do I know? Maybe my title is a satirical acknowledgment of how inconsequential talent is? Life is beautiful and worth validating with or without talent, could be what the administration is getting at with me. If I am right, then it was a wise move by that silly institution!" Hidetaka had shaggy, shoulder-length black hair which shot off in many different paths and white skin. He wore an unbuttoned gray raincoat over a white t-shirt, black pants, and gray sneakers. In spite of his bed-ridden physique and mild-mannered features, he had quite an uplifting smile.
"You know, I can't say I don't like that idea..." Makoto smiled back.
"Right? I wonder what Aho-aho has to say about it." Hidetaka plopped himself on the ground and looked up to Ahodori. "I must be getting somewhere by now, yes? Makoto here is my elder, and he agrees with me. Or am I still too young to speak such things?"
"Yes, you've still got a lot to learn about life." Ahodori crossed her arms and angled her head to face Makoto. "And you're the one with a syrup stained suit. I wouldn't trust you with a butter knife."
"... Thanks for the vote of confidence." Makoto scooped up some of the syrup on his suit and groaned. "... Least I don't have that as a nickname."
"Aho-aho is a good nickname!" Ahodori yelled. She then promptly turned her back to the group, pockets in hand and reticent.
"Oh dear... well, at least I know she approves of it whole-heartedly! I will continue using it then, I say!" Hidetaka laughed.
"... W-what d-did you say, Hide?" The skittish boy asked suddenly. Emilia jumped as his high-pitched voice escaped his lips.
"Lemeza!" Emilia hugged the skittish boy. "You are safe and fine!"
"W-well, w-why wouldn't I be, Emil––" The skittish boy's sights fell on Kyoko. "O-o-oh. Um, h-hello..."
"... Hello." Kyoko's expression remained static. "Who are you, and what is your talent?"
"Ah... t-that's, t-that's easy enough." The skittish boy gulped. "You, uh... can call me Lemeza Go. I'm... I'm the, uh... The Ultimate Explorer. A-are you f-from the F-future F-foundation?"
"... Yes, I am. Kyoko Kirigiri, the ultimate detective."
"What?!" Lemeza's eyes widened for just a second. "I-I-I mean, cool. T-that's sweet. Yeah! Um... I e-explore caves. And mountains. And temples. T-there's a lot you can l-learn from s-searching old ruins. P-plus, there's... there's not a lot of p-people usually. I-if there's any big n-news about some h-huge historical revision, I p-probably caused it. L-like, my l-latest find was a-ancient pottery with C-Chinese characters inside the Sphinx. C-could mean there was some interaction between the two civilizations t-that we d-didn't know of. I-I guess you could call me the u-u-ultimate d-detective of ancient civilizations, hahaha!... R-right?"
"... I guess I could." Kyoko's eyes narrowed.
"Mghm! I-I'll, um... I-I'll come up with a b-better j-joke later––not that you have to hear it!––B-but I-I'm actually pretty f-funny, according to Hide and Emily..." Lemeza hid his face in his hands. "J-just don't g-glare at me like that... p-please..."
"I believe that's enough for now," Takato interrupted. "We still have two more people to introduce. Just to warn you: one of them is the nicest person I know; The other... isn't."
"Wonderful... But I guess anything's better than little miss psycho," Toko said.
"Now now, say goodbye to these three for now. This all will be water under the bridge soon." Takato beckoned the group to follow him.
"G-goodbye." Lemeza looked at the floor.
"So long, and may we meet again!" Hidetaka fell on his back and started sleeping.
"..." Emilia stood by Lemeza, her eyes glossy and watery.
As the group traveled closer and closer to the expansive stone building, a salty aroma redolent of the sea filled the air. Makoto believed he could hear the tides flowing in and out of some shore as an ambient drone, and he could not help but feel just a bit greater breathing in the scent and listening to the drone. He wondered for a moment whether the Neo World Program's simulation of a beach could truly replicate the reality, but such a question made his feet feel too light for his liking.
At the landing of the stone building, the group froze to behold the monument. Obsidian steps made up a long flight to a verdant door, with similar vine spirals to the ones etched on the fountain forming the outline of the door. The path was illuminated by pairs of flickering lanterns, antiquated and obscured by significant buildups of lamp oil. More traditional marble encased the areas adjacent to the obsidian steps, where rows of pillars towered overhead. Makoto was no consumer of high art, but the edifice overwhelmed him with an impression of power that transcended any he had seen before in a building.
"This is... Well, truthfully, I don't know what this building is intended for." Takato hid his eyes behind the glare of his glasses. "Nonetheless, I'm certain this is where we can find him."
"H-him?" Toko bit the tip of her finger.
"Oh, there he is." Takato started ascending the black steps, stopping a meter away from one of the pillars. Makoto saw a dark figure leaning on the pillar Takato was facing. The dark figure did not seem to acknowledge Takato.
"... Yuta." Aoi flinched at Takato's stiff words.
"Abe." The dark figure's voice asserted itself above Takato's through its bitter character. Takato opened his mouth, but the dark figure continued. "Quiet. I'll get this over with."
The dark figure walked down the flight, their movement controlled and disinterested. The better lighting outdoors allowed Makoto to make out the figure. He was a tall, lean boy with tanned skin, long brown hair, and dry blue eyes. He wore a disheveled white dress shirt with two crimson gems fastening his cuffs, black trousers stained by chalky dust, and unremarkable black shoes. Wrinkles marked much of his already gaunt face, and his expression seemed to default into a callous scowl.
"The Ultimate Architect." The dark boy turned around and started walking back into the building.
"W-wait a minute!" Aoi ran up the steps, blocking his path. "You gotta tell us your name, at least!'
"You must be deaf." The dark boy did not stray from his path.
Aoi puffed her cheeks up, stomping her foot. "Ok, did your mom raise you to be a jerk?! Some of us can't just pinpoint a name to a title! Plus, I forget names easily... and stuff."
"Yuta Oshiro." Yuta was just an inch away from Aoi before she side-stepped out of his way.
Toko shook her head. "On second thought, I'll take little miss psycho over this."
"Yuta Oshiro..." Aoi jumped in the air. "Wow, I think I'll remember it, first go! That's gotta mean we can be friends!"
"It means you're retarded." Yuta leaned on his pillar, Takato gawking at him and the group giving him unimpressed stares. "Go annoy someone else."
"... Nevermind. I guess some people are awful." Aoi snorted, then descended the flight of stairs without giving Yuta another glance. "You give that name... an awful name, you know!"
Yuta sneered. "Language Arts. Learn it."
Makoto felt like he was inside a sauna standing near a fuming Aoi. "Well, um... Emilia didn't seem so bad, actually..."
"What a reprobate." Byakuya scoffed. "... And a familiar one, at that."
"Don't worry," Kyoko chimed in, "you were never quite this... abrasive."
"Morally dubious? Yes... but at least he had some class about it," Makoto mused.
"I doubt Yuta cares to hear who you are..." Takato, having also descended down the steps, looked stressed. "If you're wondering, no: he doesn't get better with age or familiarity."
"... Don't be so dismissive of him," Ahodori said suddenly. "He simply is... difficult to know."
"And do you know him?" Takato crossed his arms.
"No." Ahodori looked away. "But I have been a pariah before... We share certain circumstances, I think."
Takato frowned. "Frankly, your counter-argument is superficial at best."
"I think Ahodori has a point, Takato," A voice from behind the group interjected. Sweet to the ears, the voice cleansed the sour taste left by Yuta. Makoto and the others turned around and saw an image of a statuesque girl, arms behind her back and long, dirty-blonde hair falling down her tilted head.
"Oh! Masumi, your timing is fortuitous!" Takato smiled. "Appropriately enough, we saved the best for last."
"Now, don't be so modest!" The beautiful girl chirped. "I hope to impress, though. I saw your meeting with Yuta. Don't mind the sourpuss: he'll warm up to you eventually."
"He better!" Aoi huffed. "I can't believe he'd expect us to just nod our heads when he flaunted his title."
"It might look like he's proud of it, but it's a bit deeper than that..." The beautiful girl sighed. "But that's beyond my boundaries. In any case, he truly deserves the title: he's built some of the most interesting and innovative buildings I've ever seen just by himself. Sometimes he constructs them because a client interested him enough, and sometimes he builds them simply because he can. He always leaves a part of himself in his works, and for that, I'd say he's the most diligent of our class." She smiled. "Not to discredit your tenacity, Takato."
"Ultimately, I'm simply a writer. Can't say I want to challenge him for that honor." Takato chuckled. "Would you be so kind as to introduce yourself? These are members of Future Foundation––the 78th class, to be precise." The 78th class introduced themselves.
The beautiful girl laughed. "Oh, Takato, you must be quite the happy editorialist to meet them in the flesh!"
"I, uh, no. Not particularly." Takato tried to look apathetic, but the growing blush on his face betrayed his true feelings.
"Heheh..." Toko chortled. "What a blatant fanboy... How sad."
"Oh, may I ask what happened your clothing, Makoto?" The beautiful girl went up to Makoto and scrutinized his clothing. "I can get Suki to help this mess, or, if need be, I can clean your clothing!"
"Ack! It's no big deal!" Makoto scratched the back of his neck. "Just had a run-in with your friend, Emilia. She... had fun at my expense. You d-don't need to worry about cleaning them!'
"That Emilia!" The beautiful girl put her hands on her hips. "She meant well, though. She breaks the ice with everyone that way. Some are charmed by it, but it doesn't always work... Anyways, I'll still look into cleaning your clothes! Now then," the beautiful girl bent her knees, lightly pulling her skirt up, and bowed her head, "it's a pleasure to meet you: I'm The Ultimate Ballerina, Masumi Kojima." Masumi certainly looked the part, with her tall body, fair features, and proper smile. She had light green eyes and wore a green blouse, a brown skirt that reached just below her knees, and white heels over black socks.
"Ballerina..." Byakuya stroked his chin. "Tell me, have you ever performed at the Sydney Opera House? Perhaps as the lead dancer of the Russian ballet, Cinderella?"
Masumi's eyes twinkled. "Why yes, I have performed at the Sydney Opera House! And I was the lead performer for a rendition of Cinderella... How did you know?"
"A man of my status can afford only the best entertainment to occupy his free time. I distinctly recall being impressed by the near perfect execution of the ballet, particularly as headed by one... Masumi Kojima." Byakuya smirked. "You have my respect. Pray you don't lose it."
"Oh, thank you. I simply perform to the best of my ability." Masumi nodded her head, oblivious to the livid glare sent her way by Toko. "I attempt to incorporate my passion for dance in all other areas of my life. I'm a tool for greater art and a person who loves art, and it's sometimes difficult reconciling these two aspects of me. I have hope that, as I grow, I also perfect my path."
"Thank you, Masumi," Takato said. "Your introduction was a nice refreshment after Yuta's... So then, is there anything else you wish to know about, 78th class?"
"I have some questions." Kyoko pulled a notepad and pen from the pouch on her leg. "You said you arrived here seven weeks ago, right? Do recall the circumstances surrounding your arrival here?"
"Down to business... very good." Takato grinned. "Around eight weeks ago, we received our letters of entry into Hope's Peak Academy. To celebrate all of us getting in, Ahodori gathered us together and asked if we wanted to enjoy ourselves the following week."
Kyoko's pen glided on the small paper sheets. "I see. Ahodori, why did you gather everyone and suggest a group day?"
Ahodori crossed her arms. "... It was because I was proud of the young ones. They would live a life I almost lived..."
"... You're not part of the 79th class, then?"
"... No, I am not. I graduated from Hope's Peak Academy long ago... But, I did receive a letter, and I now bear my title in remembrance of lost time."
"... We should follow up on that later." Kyoko turned to Takato again. "Continue."
"We did this and that––even Yuta seemed to be enjoying the festivities, and he's not usually one to enjoy group outings––and then, during the waning hours of that day, Asami proposed a 'stellar magic trick'."
"Can you confirm this account, Masumi?" Kyoko clicked her pen on the pad.
"Yes, I can. Our day was one of merriment. A movie in the afternoon and a circus trip for the evening. Asami had so much fun, she had to release some of her pent-up energy through the most impressive magic trick she could conjure," Masumi replied.
"And what was this magic trick?" Kyoko asked.
"Well... it was quite a strange set-up: she asked us all to sit in seats arranged in a circle. Once we were all seated, she asked us to cover our eyes. The trick, she said, was inspired by a suggestion made by an anonymous fan of hers: 'what if,' she said, 'you could move ten people, including yourself, from one room to another in the time it took to recite a two-minute chant?' So, we all volunteered to blindfold ourselves, and once that was done, Asami started speaking in some nonsensical, possibly made up language. The last thing I recall then was Asami's chanting getting more and more... muffled, like she was talking underwater. I was feeling drowsy during the whole trick, but sometime during her chant, I definitely fell asleep." Masumi turned her gaze downwards. "When I woke up, none of us had blindfolds on, and we were all in our seats, but we were now in a very dark room."
"... Interesting." Kyoko's frowned, and her pen moved in a circular pattern multiple times.
"We were obviously disturbed by this turn of events, so we exited the room and found this town. There were many unoccupied houses down the right road of this center, so we decided to live here when it dawned on us that escape would not be happening very soon." Takato glanced around himself. "We've been searching for supplies and resources to aid in our future plans. So far, your class has been the most promising discovery."
"Why is escape not an option right now?" Makoto asked.
"We're surrounded by thick wilderness, and a large sea borders the remaining perimeter," Takato replied. "Lemeza trekked through the woods to see what was in there: he came back blood-stained and spouting gibberish about 'awful predators' and 'bad feelings'. He was uninjured, but the panicked look in his eye told us all we needed to know about most of our individual chances of survival if we journeyed through the woods." He shuddered. "Likewise, you don't expect us to just swim our way to freedom, right? Not that I would want to... The sea is... foreboding."
"Y'know," Hiro scratched his head, "m-maybe this is just one big initiation program from Hope's Peak Academy. You've got housing, and I'm guessing there's gotta be some food and drinks somewhere here, since you haven't starved. Who'd bother to kidnap you and treat you so kindly if they didn't want to help you?"
"Yes, because Junko cared for our necessities as an act of good will." Byakuya waved his hand. "Stop being an idiot."
"Junko... do you mean... Junko Enoshima?" Masumi frowned. "That awful name rings in my mind. Yet... I can't pinpoint why."
"You... can't?" Byakuya raised an eyebrow. "How are you this ignorant? She masterminded the killing game we ended and would have destroyed the world if we had not stepped in." He turned to Takato. "And that reminds me: how did you not recognize any of us besides Toko? That 'game' was televised for all the world to see. These introductions are pointless: you should already know who we are."
"... T-the killing game?" A droplet of sweat rolled down Takato's face. "What... what is that? And... who is this Junko Enoshima? I... my articles were all about expressing the great exhibition of talents in the 78th class. I didn't get names... didn't get physical features... I just wrote about the talents. This was on TV? I don't watch TV... But how would I not know...? The world was... almost destroyed? How?"
"What?" Shock stained Kyoko's stoic countenance. "Do you... really not know anything?"
"... Destroyed the world." Ahodori muttered, her fist clenched and the atmosphere around her darkening under the influence of an otherworldly power emanating from her. "The world was destroyed... again? Impossible. I won't accept this––my sins could not destroy it then, and my resolve now will protect it from anything...!"
Makoto yearned to flee; unfortunately, his frozen body doomed him in place. Stunned faces surrounded him. Ahodori's hymn of world's end wracked him with confusion and trepidation. Just what in lord's name was going on?
A sudden tolling sound roared throughout the maddening scene. Like actors breaking character during an earthquake, the participants of this scene reverted to a primal alertness. Wary eyes peered at the origin of the toll. The tired bell hanging so high above the town in its towering home swung back and forth, and its toll reached the ears of the group in hollow waves. The bell seemed to undulate until Makoto himself dared to look upon it. Then, it fell silent.
That silence would be broken by another sound––a voice, shrill and utterly frivolous. It boomed throughout the town, its source unknown any yet too known by the darkest of Makoto's memories.
"Hear ye, hear ye! Mine voice doth bless your ears, yes? Capital! With that business sorted with, let us eschew formalities and get things rolling! To the wonderful alumni and bear-y lucky incoming students, your special generations ceremony is about to begin! Please make your way to the town hall with haste––lest ye be hang in the gallows like the craven knave you are!"