Dangan Ronpa: Despairingly Displaced Chapter 5-3A: Despair's Reward, a dangan ronpa kibou no gakuen to zetsubou no koukousei fanfic

After the agonizing trip downwards, Ichijou Mitsuzi almost sighed in relief when the Elevator stopped, its gate sliding open. Looking around the Courtroom as he stepped in, he was shocked to see the night sky above, blanketed in clouds, stars filling the gaps. Of course, he quickly realized that the air was not fresh: it was still, and hard. The 'walls' also seemed to be nonexistent, stretching into a hill landscape dotted with trees, but Ichijou dared not test the limits: a line at the edge of the flooring separating metal floor of the Courtroom and the grass around it. Even so, it was a good illusion, and nowadays he wasn't surprised by these things so much.

Not needing instruction, Ichijou reached his podium, looking around the room. The podium next to him had a portrait of Ishihara Jouji, a blood colored cross over his face. On the other side of the room was Saruta Bimaru, who stood next to Tachibana Chiyoko's portrait, the blood colored paint depicting what Ichijou recognized to be a frame of film reel, surrounding her crossed out face. A few spots away, Minami Fuyuko, Uzatei Kotetsu, Nagasaki Ayumi, and Furugori Yasuo stood at their podiums, awaiting the start of the Trial. Tiredly, Monokuma began, "Welcome back, Students of Hope's Peak Academy, to the Class Trial. Allow me to explain the rules. Now that the investigation is concluded, you must use what you have learned to uncover the Culprit. When deemed appropriate, you will all vote on who you believe the 'Black' Culprit is. If you are correct, the Culprit will be Punished. If you are wrong, and vote a 'White', innocent Student guilty, the Culprit will Graduate and be allowed to leave, while everyone else Flunks, and is Punished."

"Losing your enthusiasm for these things?" Minami grunted.

Monokuma shrugged, grumbling, "Just get started already."

Saruta nodded, "I agree."

Nagasaki muttered, "Where though?"

Minami began, "I think a good place to start would be summing up what we found."

Ichijou sighed, "Okay...aside from the Monokuma File, Ishihara had blood on his chin, and his right glove was missing."

Saruta nodded, adding, "No doubt cleaned away by Monokuma after the previous Trial." Sharing his own piece of evidence, he explained, "In the Observatory, there was what appeared to be a black hakama, one side possessing some blood. There was also a small piece of plastic."

Uzatei noted, "Speaking of plastic, there was a pile in the backroom of one of the cafés."

Nagasaki joined in, "There was also a bent pipe."

Minami explained, "I imagine the hakama came from the Replica Archery Store, which was quite a bloody mess."

Furugori mumbled, "You guys keep mentioning bits of plastic...was the piece on the very bottom of the Mall the same stuff?"

Ichijou nodded, "I'm pretty sure."

After a moment, Minami realized, "To be honest, there isn't a whole lot of damning evidence."

Uzatei let out a slight groan, "Is there ever?"

Minami shrugged, before continuing on, "Well, to start with the 'less likely but still plausible', we should consider that all of this was done by Ishihara himself."

Scowling, Ichijou retorted, "What!? Are you crazy?"

Minami stated firmly, "All possibilities must be examined. He left that note, didn't he? It didn't say much in particular. 'More food to go around.' 'What is truth and what is lie.' 'Do not trust them.' It sounds less like a hero fighting his oppressors and more like a madman's ravings." Ichijou quietly growled at the idea: he knew damn well Ishihara wasn't insane, he just had to prove it.

Uzatei added, "So, he cut his hand and rampaged in the Archery Store, then- oh! Perhaps he cut his hand while raging in the Archery Store? Then he bruised himself somehow, hit his back, and impaled himself... Suddenly, I'm at a loss."

Saruta shook his head, "It seems unlikely he was able to inflict the bruises to himself and the hoist himself onto the Spire. He can't have been in too good of a condition after losing that blood, for starters."

Furugori nodded, "Yeah, he'd have needed to get some height. I mean sure, he's an Aeronaut, but..."

Minami nodded, "I suppose you have a point: if it were self-inflicted, even if he found some way to bruise himself, the easiest way to finish the job would be to go down stomach first."

Ichijou grumbled, "See? It's ridiculous. Don't you get it? Jouji was Gold Dragon, a superhero! He would never endanger us by killing himself!" With a sour sigh, Ichijou added, "You guys have to have more Hope..."

Minami looked aside a bit guiltily, before adding, "Well, accidents do happen."

Saruta shook his head, "If there were a place in the Mall higher than the tip of the Spire, I would concur, but as it stands, it's far too unlikely."

Minami sighed, "Fair enough."

Nagasaki wondered, "But how did get impaled then?"

Uzatei crossed his arms over his chest, before suggesting, "The only way I can think of is...if someone held him up and tossed him onto the Spire, possibly pulling him down further to ensure the deed was done."

Ichijou nodded, "His note mentioned someone: 'them'. Like he said, 'they' must have beaten him somehow, and impaled him."

Furugori nodded, "That would also explain the injuries."

Saruta began, "Perhaps we can envision the battle through the damages done to the Mall? I imagine the conflict in the Archery Store must have been quiet brutal."

Minami nodded, "Indeed, Ishihara has received his fair share of wounds."

Nagasaki looked around and muttered, "None of us are hurt, right?"

Contemplative, Saruta noted, "That seems unlikely, now that you mention it. Gold Dragon can't have been a slouch at combat, and with that note, and the damage to the Mall area, there must have been some scuffle."

Glaring down at Uzatei, Minami demanded, "Strip."

Taken aback, Uzatei gawked, "What? Not even going to take me to dinner first?" As Minami glared, Uzatei said, "What about the rest of us? Why me and not Ichijou?" Ignoring his question, Minami clenched her fist, and Uzatei reached for his belt, crying, out, "Fine! Fine!" Clearly displeased, he removed his black and yellow scarf, dark gray dress shirt, black shoes, and black and white slacks, revealing his unmarred, toned frame, only wearing a white pair of boxers and his glasses.

From next to him, Minami looked him over, before mumbling, "Not a scratch or hint of makeup…"

Redressing himself, Uzatei scoffed, "Makeup? Only the hideous bother."

Minami rumbled, "I use makeup on occasions."

"Only the...only the...shut up!" Uzatei shouted nervously. Finishing, he looked over to Ichijou demanding, "Now you."

Minami grunted, "No, that's quite enough."

Hand rubbing his forehead, Uzatei grumbled, "The bias is wounding…"

With a grunt, Minami grabbed the base of her shirt, beginning to pull it up, showing off her packed abs. Uzatei shielded his eyes, making her grunt, "Idiot, you just said-"

Thinking of what the Contractor's boyfriend might think, Ichijou insisted, "No, its fine, really, Minami-san."

Monokuma snarled, "No it's not fine! Quick, everyone: get naked!"

Nagasaki muttered, "Be quiet."

Replacing her shirt without a hint of shame, Minami sighed, "Well, the point still stands. Whoever Ishihara fought likely did not struggle in the least in their attempts."

"Oh whatever works to make me a suspect, no?" Uzatei grumbled.

Shaking his head, Saruta pointed out, "Untrue. Rather, all of us here seem to lack wounds. Otherwise, to walk in with evidence on our person would be tantamount to suicide." Turning a bit, he added, "But the thought is rather frightful: with all the experience Ishihara had, you'd think he'd be a force to be reckoned with."

Minami nodded, "Which is why I believe he was not Gold Dragon. Rather, I think his murder was the superhero."

Uzatei frowned, "Me, in other words."

"Stop playing the victim," Nagasaki pouted.

Ichijou sputtered, "M-Minami!"

With a sigh, the Contractor began, "Hear me out. An Aeronaut butting heads with a superhero? Would that outcome not lead in a crushing and one sided defeat? Ishihara became impatient, and wanted to strike out, so he challenged the hero, who he believed to be an enemy. Thus, Gold Dragon took the opportunity to kill him, battering him, making him bleed, before finishing the job."

Furugori said sadly, "When you put it like that...it seems pretty reasonable."

Ichijou shook his head, insisting, "No, no, no! Jouji was Gold Dragon, end of story."

Nagasaki mumbled, "Well, there was something he said way back, about his voice..."

Minami nodded, "And Uzatei was far more suspicious when it came to divulging his identity."

Starting to realize he didn't have a whole lot of evidence, Ichijou sighed, beginning, "He...there was another time he showed up as Gold Dragon, aside from the first time with Kasumi, or the Hot Spring, or the Cabin. After the last Trial, Ishihara came to my Lodge, and told me his identity. He brought his mask."

A bit surprised, Uzatei muttered, "Is that so?"

Ichijou nodded, "I trust Jouji, so I trust that he is Gold Dragon, and has nothing but our best interests in mind. The costume, the note...it's all genuine."

After a moment, Minami sighed, "As much as I want to believe you, we need more than shaky evidence. Even if you aren't lying, there's still the possibility of a fake mask. Even the note entirely could be faked, for all we know."

Gritting his teeth, Ichijou kept his emotions under control, trying to calm down. He took a deep breath: as much as he didn't like them distrusting Ishihara and himself, Minami had a point. Evidence...

But if there had been evidence, would there have been any doubt in the first place. There must have been something...

"Ah!" Ichijou gasped as he realized something. He began, "He told me something, yesterday, after breakfast. Hope's Peak Academy faked his Talent! He isn't really an Aeronaut." Minami's gaze didn't falter, that likely wouldn't be enough.

Saruta, however, mixed his own words in, noting, "Come to think of it, we've seen most of our Talents in action, in some form or another. And yet, Ishihara is one of the ones we have seen nothing of personally, no?"

Minami shook her head, saying, "He was going to make a glider, remember? To attempt to sail out of here to get help?"

His heart leaping, Ichijou saw Saruta's eye glint as the Surgical Assistant likely realized the same thing. Ichijou pointed out, "But that's wrong!" Minami seemed a bit surprised, and Ichijou continued, "You were in his room, right? There was no glider."

Saruta nodded, "Neither complete nor half finished. Not even so much as a schematic."

Scratching her chin, Minami sighed, "Well, I suppose I must give you that..."

Furugori nodded, "So, Ishihara was Gold Dragon, no doubt."

Uzatei continued, "He challenged his foe, got into a conflict, and died."

Saruta reminded, "As I said before, reconstructing the battle should be our next course."

Nagasaki mumbled, "His wounds..."

Ichijou thought, before saying, "The bruises on his arms, the one on his back, his hand, and the blood on his lip."

Uzatei shrugged, "The lip is easily explained: he was impaled. The damage to his lungs made him cough up blood."

Furugori wondered, "But what about the one on his back? I mean, you guys mentioned the Archery store and the pipe, but..."

Saruta nodded, "A good point. It was long, going across his whole torso, but thin, much thinner than a pipe."

"Like a sheet of metal, or perhaps the corner of something, like a countertop? That would cause a long, thin bruise," Minami noted.

Uzatei pointed out, "Speaking of countertops; the Archery Store?"

Ichijou remembered, "The one with blood splattered all over it?"

Furugori mumbled, "Hmmm. He wasn't bleeding from his back then, was he?"

Saruta began, "I'm not one for fighting, or even action films, but perhaps Ishihara, his hand cut, charged his foe, whom dodged, causing Ishihara to strike the countertop, coating it in blood. Then, his foe circled him, roughly shoving him into the counter, bruising him."

Nagasaki lit up as she explained, "The rest of the mess was from more fighting?"

Ichijou replied, "Probably."

Changing subjects, Uzatei began, "Now, about the bruises..."

Ichijou remembered, "The pipe, right?"

Minami noted, "Most likely. It was previously attached to the wall, and the Culprit was able to rip it off, using it as a weapon. They battered Ishihara's arms, and cracked his mask, resulting in the pieces. The two then likely took the fight elsewhere."

Furugori nodded in understanding, pointing out, "That probably happened first! Which is why the plastic is everywhere."

Saruta concurred, "The piece of the distant ground likely fell after Ishihara was impaled. The one in the hakama..."

Nagasaki suggested, "The Culprit cleaned up some blood and it got stuck?"

Ichijou wondered, "But what were they cleaning? And why?" Nagasaki only shrugged.

Minami answered, "Whatever Ishihara cut his hand on. The only think I can think of down there would be an arrow, as blunt as they were. If not, then a knife is possible, but it could have easily been cleaned and returned to the Kitchen or Lodge."

Furugori grumbled, "But still though, why bother?"

After a few moments of fruitless silence, Ichijou muttered, "Well...back to the pipe. How did it get bent?"

Uzatei stated, "Being used to beat Ishihara, I imagine."

Minami shook her head, insisting, "As old as it was, it would have broken bones to bend like that against a human. Ishihara's arms are beaten, but not bent or broken."

Nagasaki mumbled, "They pulled it off, right?"

Furugori asked, "Eh?"

A little flustered, Nagasaki reiterated, "They pulled the pipe off the wall..."

Saruta nodded, "I believe so, and the only one with the strength to manage something like that would probably be..."

Minami sighed, "Me?" The Contractor shook her head, "You think me unfamiliar with pipes? I know the basics of installing and removing them: I could disassemble that entire mess if I have the tools, time, or patience. I'm not going to pretend the thought didn't cross my mind either: that layout was abominable."

Uzatei pointed out, "You know, that might have been even more suspicious."

Ichijou replied, "Well, if she'd taken the pipe out, beaten Ishihara with it, then put it back, we wouldn't have really been able to even connect to the scene easily."

Saruta wondered, "In that case, what course did our Culprit take to remove the pipe?"

Nagasaki suggested, "Ishihara would have been strong enough, right?"

Minami shook her head, "And the Culprit seemed to be even stronger."

Recalling something, Ichijou asked, "Hey, did anyone else see the thing outside the café? The metal thing on the ground? It was kind of squarish."

After a moment, Uzatei recalled, "Yes, I think I do. It was a pry bar no?" After a moment, the Fashion Designer slapped his forehead as he realized, "Of course..."

Furugori gasped, "So anyone could have used that to remove the pipe!"

Minami nodded, "That seems to be the case."

Ichijou began, "So, the Culprit used the pipe to fight Ishihara, but how are some of the bruises smaller on one side? Did the Culprit not hit as hard?

Saruta's brow furrowed as he noted, "Strange, now that you mention it, I do recall the bruises being a different size. However, although strength of impact can affect bruise size, it wouldn't be that extreme."

Uzatei suggested, "So, the pipe caused one set of bruises, but the other set was also long, just smaller, less wide."

Nagasaki muttered, "The pry bar?" Uzatei slapped his forehead again.

Minami finished, "So, the Culprit used the pry bar to free the pipe, then used both to strike Ishihara, chipping away at his mask in the process."

Putting the pieces together, Ichijou said, "Since there's no blood in there, that must have happened before the fight in the Archery Store."

Saruta wondered, "But how did the fight reach that point in the first place?"

Minami suggested, "The Culprit might have led Ishihara to the backroom, with the intent to trap and crush him there, but one of them fled. Perhaps Ishihara, wounded, went to go recover, and the Culprit pursued. Then, in the Archery Store, Ishihara found his second wind, going wild."

Nagasaki frowned, "Something about that doesn't seem right."

Feeling the same thing, Ichijou nodded, "Yeah, I mean, both times are so one-sided. Why aren't there signs of Jouji fighting back in the backroom? Or the Culprit in the Archery Store?"

After a few moments, Minami sighed, "Unfortunately, I have no suggestions..."

As Ichijou tried to think on that, the others were silent. Uzatei wondered, "Wait a minute, are we out of evidence?"

Minami grumbled, "No, we can't be..."

Furugori gulped, "I-is there something we missed?"

Saruta suggested, "Well, we could simply continue. After the fight in the Archery Store, perhaps Ishihara had lost too much of his blood to continue fighting. Perhaps the Culprit used the hakama to clean blood off of themselves, before taking Ishihara back up. They crossed the narrow path to the Spire and impaled him on the tip, the movement causing the last piece of mask to fall."

Nagasaki noted, "The person who did that must have been strong..."

Ichijou nodded, "Yeah, Jouji isn't exactly small."

Saruta realized, "To think of it, I imagine Ishihara must have been barely conscious. Otherwise, he might have tried to struggle, perhaps with the intent of bringing the Culprit on the fall with him."

Uzatei pointed out, "Unless they were strong enough to resist him. Minami-san, I would say you fit that mold."

Minami snorted, "I don't deny it. And yet, could the edge of that thin metal step held the weight of Ishihara and I combined? That would be more than 150 kilograms, easily."

"True..." Uzatei mumbled.

Saruta shook his head, noting, "The difference between you and Uzatei can't be that large. Not enough to make a difference, I imagine."

Ichijou recalled, "But still it gets pretty narrow near the end. I almost lost my balance twice."

Saruta nodded, "That mask is a bit startling when looking up at it so close."

Ichijou frowned, "And his expression..."

Focusing, Saruta noted, "Hmm. Now that you mention it, I did not remove the mask. Was there anything telling, Ichijou-san?"

Thinking back to the grim scene, the Luckster began, "Well, his eyes were rolled back, his mouth was open, and there was blood on his lip and chin."

Saruta thought for a moment, before beginning, "Wait one moment...the blood was on his chin? Not his face?"

Furugori reminded him, "Yeah, didn't we say that earlier?"

Saruta shook his head, explaining, "Don't you realize? Why did Ishihara's blood defy gravity?" As it began to sink in, he continued, "If he were impaled, and his lung damaged, he would have spat blood down, which from his position, would have caused it to splatter on his nose, forehead, eyes..."

Ichijou gagged on his spit, mumbling, "H-huh!? I mean, I believe you but...how?"

Nagasaki wondered, "Maybe it happened earlier, somehow..."

Minami mutter imaginatively, "Perhaps he spat one last curse on his killer?"

Uzatei scratched his head, before saying nonsensically, "Maybe the Culprit stabbed him with the Spire, then flipped him around, impaling him?"

Ichijou thought on the suggestions, before saying, "Nagasaki-chan, I think that one makes the most sense."

Uzatei frowned, "It's basically the same as mine!"

Ichijou shook his head, explaining, "Well, I mean, what if his lung was damaged earlier, during some of the fighting?"

Saruta nodded, elaborating, "Between the fairly clean backroom and the bloody Archery Store..."

Minami asked, "But what pierced him? A dull arrow?"

Furugori pointed out, "Well, the Culprit's supposed to be strong." Ichijou shuddered at the thought.

Saruta suggested, "Perhaps Ishihara was cut as he attempted to block the arrow?"

Uzatei noted, "Well, either way, the Culprit used the hakama to wipe off the blood. Come to think of it, there wasn't a drop on the way to the Spire."

Ichijou nodded, explaining as he realized, "They could have used the hakama to keep Ishihara from bleeding everywhere."

Saruta finished, "And then hid it after the deed was done. They could have easily taken the hakama away when they reached the Spire: a little extra blood would hardly be noticeable."

After a few moments, Uzatei wondered, "So, we know what happened, roughly, but who did it?"

Ichijou asked, "Well, first: which arrow? There was the broken one, and a bunch of others."

Furugori nodded, "Well , the broken one stands out the most..."

Saruta postulated, "But was it broken before, or after? And why?"

Nagasaki suggested, "Smaller would be easier to use."

Ichijou expanded, "Oh, you mean that it would be easier to stab someone with a smaller arrow? Or a broken one, I guess."

Minami shook her head, stating, "Unless it broke after piercing Ishihara."

Uzatei pointed out, "Big hands would need a larger arrow shaft."

Minami snorted, "Smaller hands would have an easier time after breaking the arrow in the first place."

"Oh, now you're suggesting it was broken before being used!?" Uzatei grumbled.

Minami asked threateningly, "Is there a problem?"

"Guys!" Ichijou interrupted. The two, who had been glaring at each other for a few moments, turned to Ichijou, who began, "I think...it's as good as over. I'm not really that strong, neither are Furugori and Saruta. Nagasaki... I can't see her doing it, not in a million years."

Uzatei snorted, "Neither am I! And why not Furugori? He locked us in this Resort, apparently."

Furugori gawked, before frowning, "N-no, I couldn't have..."

Uzatei sighed, "Well, prove it."

Furugori flinched, before shouting, "I don't want to!"

Raising an eyebrow, Saruta muttered, "Are you implying that you can?"

Furugori frowned, sighing, "I guess I don't have a choice." Turning to the others, he began, "I just don't understand. That computer: I didn't look at it for long, but it can't have been real. And if it was, then why am I here? Shouldn't whoever made that monster be here instead?"

Ichijou scratched his head, saying, "Er, I don't really understand..."

Furugori frowned, explaining in disbelief, "Gigahertz. The processor ran in gigahertz! The computer I built has a maximum processing speed of 100 megahertz, and to do that I need to have two air conditioning units and four fans going full blast in winter to keep from burning my house down! And this thing is a fraction of the size!" Ichijou shrugged, it was all nonsense to him.

Minami frowned, noting, "That doesn't sound too impressive. Your computer, I mean."

Furugori shouted, "That's the point!"

Minami shook her head, replying, "No, I mean by modern standards."

Furugori blinked in confusion, before giving a derisive laugh, adjusting his glasses, "Oh please, what would you know about computers?"

Interrupting before things could escalate, Ichijou said, "Anyway! I think Furugori-san made it pretty clear that he's not the Culprit. Besides, I don't think he has the strength needed to pull some of the stunts." Letting out a sigh, he began, "Minami...you've tried to kill before and escape, right?"

Minami swallowed, nodding, "None of us have forgotten. So, I'm guilty until proven innocent, I imagine?"

Ichijou continued as if she hadn't spoken, "That's why I think you're not the Culprit. Tachibana tried to end the Game by killing Ganaha and escaping. She said that was supposed to be the last Trial but...if Minami had been working with her, if Minami had been behind everything, then why would she try to end things early? And I don't thing Kirigiri could be so easily manipulated into killing Mikage, there was too much going on, so many points where it could have gone wrong. However..."

"One of us here did come close to being a voted a Culprit as well. If it were the second or first Trials, I might have ignored it, but it was much more recent. It was the Trial we'd been most likely to fail. And that person could have been purposely making himself suspicious for that reason: to make us vote for the wrong person," Ichijou began.

Uzatei snorted, "You must be joking."

Ichijou finished, "But that's not all. I mean, one thing's been bothering me: after stabbing Ishihara with an arrow, why not just leave him there in the Archery Store to bleed to death?"

Saruta nodded, "It would have been more efficient."

After a moment, Ichijou swallowed as his thoughts blossomed into realization. He began, "Right. Minami's a Contractor, Furugori's a Computer Engineer. They're both Talented in ways that need them to be efficient, but you, Uzatei-san...impaling a superhero on a massive spike for no reason, it's cruel, and flashy. It fits a Fashion Designer, and it fits Super High School Level Despair."

Uzatei spat, his forehead beginning to shine with sweat, "I disagree! Flashiness is not the only aspect of fashion: is my own outfit not quite muted? Do I look like a clown to you!?"

Minami snorted, "You look like a joke."

Uzatei retorted shakily, "Oh please! Your evidence is shaky at best, you're really going to end this all over that!?"

Saruta shrugged, "I have no rebuttal."

Uzatei sighed, "Not even going to try?" Nagasaki turned away without word. Uzatei mumbled, "Whatever happened to that Hope, I wonder."

Furugori shook his head, muttering, "You're trying too hard, it's not really helping your case."

Uzatei looked at Ichijou, pleading, but the Luckster had nothing to say in his defense.

Clearing his throat, Ichijou began, "Alright, let's see. Early into the night, Ishihara Jouji issued a challenge to the Culprit, insisting they finish things once and for all. The Culprit went along with it, meeting Jouji in the Mall, who took on his mask as Gold Dragon. The Culprit ran into a café, using a pry bar to free a pipe, using them to outfight Jouji, bruising his arms and cracking his mask, leaving a few pieces of plastic on the ground. Then, he left, and Jouji, followed."

"In the Archery Store, Gold Dragon got a second wind, causing a large amount of damage to the store as he attempted to defeat the Culprit, getting a cut on his hand, and bruising his back against the countertop. After Jouji tired himself out, the Culprit retaliated: grabbing and arrow, and stabbing Gold Dragon in the stomach with it. He damaged Jouji's lung, causing him to cough up blood. As he bled, the Culprit cleaned off the arrow with a hakama, then used it to keep Jouji from bleeding all over the place as he took the weakened hero to the Spire."

"When they got there, the Culprit lifted Gold Dragon up and impaled him on the spike, one last piece of his mask falling to the ground far below. The Culprit then cleaned up, putting the hakama in the Observatory, before going to clean himself off for the next day."

"I'm sorry, but I can't see it as anyone else but you: Uzatei Kotetsu," Ichijou finished.

Uzatei grumbled, "We're all dead! Dead you fools!"

Ignoring him, Monokuma cheered, "Yay! It's voting time! Unless you guys have any objections..."

Though he was a bit perturbed at Monokuma's glee, Ichijou nodded. As the screen on his podium changed, he pressed the button for Uzatei's mug, submitting his vote. There wasn't much hesitance from the others either. After a few moments, the colored wheel rose up from behind Monokuma's throne, before spinning about. The colors blended into each other, but after a few moments, it finally slowed to a stop, the arrow marking the gold colored spot, Uzatei Kotetsu written in black.

However, Monokuma was silent. Ichijou waited for the condemnation, but it didn't come. There others seemed to notice too, looking between Monokuma and Uzatei. The Fashion Designer was oddly silent, standing, his arms crossed over his chest, his head bowed.

"What's going on?" Minami rumbled angrily, standing over Uzatei.

Furugori wondered, "D-did we break it?"

Uzatei did or said nothing except to check his watch once.

"Answer me!" Minami roared, her face angrier than Ichijou had ever seen before. After two or three minutes had passed, the angry girl could finally take no more, and raised her arm, shifting her feet as she made to strike Uzatei down where he stood. With a grunt, she flung her fist out, and Ichijou winced as she saw the mass heading for Uzatei.

At the last possible moment, Uzatei stepped back, Minami's fist glancing against his glasses, bending the frame against the earpiece and snapping it, the pieces falling to the ground. Uzatei's sharp, gold eyes glared at Minami, and he muttered, "My my, you seem to have failed to realize who you're dealing with here..." Clenching his fist, he hissed, "Need I show you?"

Her teeth bared, Minami ignored his warning, charging with a growl as she attempted to grab the Fashion Designer. Her arms only grabbed empty air as Uzatei slipped underneath them at surprising speed, moving behind her. He began to unravel his yellow scarf, whipping it out and flinging it at Minami. Before she could react, Uzatei had the cloth around Minami's neck, and had wrapped its extra folds around his hands, allowing him to pull it tightly. Minami struggled against it stretching the cloth away from her neck. It didn't break, but neither did she seem to have issues with breathing. Somehow, Uzatei was able to match the massive girl in strength, and they continued to struggle.

Saruta stammered, "S-someone help her!" Ichijou, snapped back to his senses, wanted to, but he had no idea how to help. Furugori was also suitably stunned. Nagasaki went at it though, drawing out her knife, circling the two, aiming to strike at Uzatei's back. Uzatei turned his head to see her, just as the scarf in his hands found its limit, Minami's fingers ripping through the stretched fabric. Uzatei's arms went out wide, and Minami began to turn as Nagasaki charged.

However, Uzatei was quick. Raising his leg, he stuck the limb Minami's podium, kicking off, using the force to backpedal a meter or two away, near the line at the edge of the Courtroom, the landscape beyond still eerily still. Nagasaki tried to stop her momentum, slipping on the ground, knife still in hand. Thinking quickly, Minami raised her palm, contracting it as Nagasaki ran into her, and directed the girl's momentum downward, pushing her to the ground, just as her knife reflexively struck out, cutting Minami's arm. From her prone position, Nagasaki looked at Minami apologetically, but the Contractor didn't seem to mind, her gaze focused on Uzatei Kotetsu.

With a sneer, the Fashion Designer tossed the halves of his scarf aside. Behind him, the distant hills began to ripple, a wave of wind crossing grassy fields, rustling trees and shaking bushes in the distance, steadily approaching. Ichijou braced himself, and the sudden gale blew into the Courtroom, making their clothes ripple. Uzatei didn't even flinch as his brown hair flitted about. As he stood, he raised his arm, and it caught something that came from this distance: a scarf, much like his other one, but red instead of yellow. Tossing it around his neck, he raised his hand above his head, catching something else that flew at him: a black trilby with a dark red band around the base above the brim. Planting it on his head, the wind began to die down as he walked around the Courtroom, reaching Kirigiri Kasumi's podium, tossing the portrait aside and facing his former spot, finally stating, "It would be quite a shame to put things down quite yet, so I would recommend not acting out." Adjusting his hat, he began, "We have much more to discuss, after all."

"Ufufufu," Kinashi Ririka laughed from her monitor in the Meeting Room.

Mahiro shook his head as he watched Uzatei and Minami grapple, and he muttered, "Uzatei...he was in Future Foundation longer than most. To think he was in Super High School Level Despair for so long."

Kinashi chortled, "Yes, it was quite easy for him to set everything up with your complete trust and thin shift schedule. Such fools: the lot of you are."

Eiji kept his mouth shut: the Critic knew full well they had one advantage that Kinashi didn't realize, but at the same time, it was not one Eiji could control. To get a message to Kirigiri in this situation would be nearly impossible, even if Alter Ego were to somehow help.

Urushibara grumbled, "So, what now?"

Kinashi sighed, "What do you think? After all, is all of this for any reason but the solution to the poem? Perhaps if you oafs cannot discern it, perhaps the captives in the Game can. Of course, if they cannot, then their lives are forfeit."

Asumi muttered, her voice one of truth, "And so is Uzatei's!"

"Yes, and?" Kinashi replied, unperturbed. She sighed, "As much as I admire the man's ambition, he has known from the beginning that he would likely not walk out of the New Development Program. Tachibana was meant to succeed initially, you know. How suspicious would it be if Uzatei were to walk out as well?"

Eiji demanded, "What do you mean you admir-"

"Enough!" Kinashi said. She demanded, "Watch, and pray your allies can survive."

Hundreds of kilometers away, a large building sat nestled in a fair sized forest, dull, gray, and out of use as the sun bleached it daily, the elements gradually whittling it down over the course of several months, impossibly slowly, but surely.

From above, the sound of air being chopped could be heard as a small black helicopter descended gently onto the only suitable plain: a small clearing in front of the massive metal door. The vehicle landed safely, and a number of its occupants rushed out. Leading the pack was the fairly short, broad, and well-dressed Shiata Gotou, wearing a black suit and sunglasses, his curly, black, gray tinted hair, cut short. Behind him followed two other men, in less classy attire of coats and jeans. The smallest of the pack was the blonde Tsujimoto Miyuki, the only other Talent in the strike team. Each of them was heavily armed: a rifle in hand, a pistol on their hip.

The girl looked up at the familiar building, the deaths that happened within surfacing from her memories. So many events and tragedies stemming from this Exam Building... But if the target was here, Tsujimoto wouldn't be opposed to becoming a Culprit if it meant stamping Kinashi Ririka out once and for all, though she'd prefer to capture her if possible.

As one unit, the heavily armed team stepped inside, the four watching all sides as they moved through the hallway, where some grass and leaves had blown in from the portal, which had been open for months now. As they entered the true Entrance Hall, Tsujimoto couldn't help but cringe, more and more memories flooding back.

Moving out, the four descended, going to the Dorms on the First Basement Level. Going down further, they reached the Second Basement Level, barging into the Generator Room. Tsujimoto had never seen it in its current state: one of the two machines, the lower one, had always in fact, been a glorified noise maker. Now, a hatch on it was opened, though it seemed to only lead to darkness below. The secret hidey hold of Tachibana Chiyoko and Akutsume Sora, where the remnants of their plot had been uncovered.

Heading down, one of the others was able to find a light switch, illuminating what seemed to be a shoddy warehouse, full of forklifts, shelves, crates, boxes, most everything remaining not being useful enough to take. Moving through, the four began to spread out, pulling out communicators and attaching them to their ears.

They continued to search the place, finally reaching one door that seemed to stand out in that it was locked, though the whole place had been searched in the months before. Regrouping, one of the jacketed men withdrew an explosive charge from his pocket, setting it, before the team took cover. With the flick of a switch, the door was demolished, filling the doorway with smoke.

As Eiji watched both the proceeding Trial and Kinashi Ririka sitting in her chair, he gawked as there was a loud bang, smoke coming from the right side of his view. He tensed in anticipation as he was the strike team filter into the room, suppressing a grin as he saw Tsujimoto among them. The walked through the room, guns raised, scanning it...but something was wrong.

They did not react to Kinashi, and Kinashi did not react to them.

Eiji heard the others with him voice their confusion as they saw the mystifying scene. They heard Shiata mumble, "She's not here..."

"What!?" Urushibara shouted in shock.

At his words, Tsujimoto's eyes turned to the screen. Eiji blinked as she got closer, seemingly passing right by Kinashi as she approached a camera, mumbling, "What was that?"

Realizing something, Eiji asked, "M-Miyuki-chan, can you hear me?"

Tsujimoto's eyes widened in shock as she heard Eiji's voice and the girl stammered, "E-Eiji-kun? What the hell is going on!?"

Her hand raised over her mouth, Kinashi, somehow in the center of the room, laughed, "Oh, what is this now?"

Hearing the voice, Tsujimoto growled, "Kinashi!?"

Unable to hold in her laughter, Kinashi let out a hearty, refined chortled, before saying, "It is a pleasure to hear you again, Tsujimoto-san. Well, not really, your voice has a nasty, grating quality to it, unfortunately." Tilting her head, she smiled as she bragged, "A neat little ruse, do you not agree? In case you were curious as to what you are seeing, Oonishi-san, it is not one camera, but two. Right now, I sit in front of a 'green screen', my image being overlaid with the room Tsujimoto-san is in at this very second, streamed live. I expressed my fears to Tachibana that I might be discovered by the power of Alter Ego, so we took a few measures. Tachibana supplied the effects, and I completed the programming. Marvelous, no?"

Alter Ego cried, "A-ah! There is another connection here. I thought it was..."

Kinashi smirked, "Another Future Foundation connection? How embarrassingly easy you are to fool. You have not even been able to touch the virus in the New Development Program either, have you? Even though it wasn't quite as refined as Enoshima Junko's original. Quite the useless being you are. Or is 'being' even the correct term for a 'thing' like you?"

Urushibara shouted, "You shut your dirty mouth!"

Eiji, however, was still boggled. He muttered, "It can't be...Kinashi, you're telling me you programed something that can fool Alter Ego in a few months, while simultaneously learning how to make explosives!?" Standing from his seat, he shouted, "That's not possible. You're just a Karuta player!"

Kinashi glared, replying, "I am nothing more than a hard working school girl, Oonishi Eiji. You would take care not to forget that. Now, be quiet: you shall never find me before the Trial concludes. If you argue with me..." As she trailed off her finger dangerously twitched towards her board of switches. His mind starting to hurt, Eiji could only slump down in his chair, trying to figure out: how? How had they been outplayed so completely and utterly? And it wasn't just Uzatei either, this was something more...

She should have known

Her initial guess was incorrect; it was not Furugori Yasuo, who was in the ideal position to instate both the Field Trip of Mutual Killing and the current Hostage Situation of Mutual Killing. It was Uzatei, the only one to come into contact with Enoshima Junko.

Reentering the Experiment Room, she approached the bed, gazing down at the resting face, turning over a knife in her hands.

If she didn't do something now he could escape.

And yet, at the same time, he was the only one within reach with the knowledge they needed regarding the reason behind this situation. As much as she wanted to finish him here and now, removing him might cause negative effects on the Game.

But he had manipulated all of the ones in the Base, Game or not. He did not deserve life.

Kirigiri Kasumi raised her knife, bringing it down. There was a flash of blood.

Turning to leave, the weapon stuck in his leg to prevent his potential escape, Kirigiri returned to more important tasks than bloodying her hands for no reason that her own satisfaction.

She couldn't let herself lose control again, no matter the reason…

Standing in the breezy Courtroom, Uzatei Kotetsu shifted his weight from foot to foot, leaning a bit heavily to one side, before righting himself, saying, "Now, where were we?"

Tossing his scarf Uzatei began, his tone droll and venomous, "Oh right. I suppose a proper introduction is in order: Uzatei Kotetsu, Super High School Level Despair. It's been a pleasure to leer about you, watching you stumble around like imbeciles."

Furugori stammered, "You...this whole time?"

"Obviously," Uzatei sighed.

Minami grunted, "You never had your memories removed..." Uzatei nodded slightly, confirming it.

Nagasaki wondered, "How did you outfight us? And Ishihara-san? You're just a Fashion Designer..."

Uzatei shrugged, "That little tidbit is not important at the moment. We shall bring that up again later."

Ichijou gnashed his teeth, pointing a finger as he said, "You killed Jouji you bastard!"

Waving his finger, Uzatei shook his head, "Mind your language, Ichijou. A Hope mongering, bottom feeding peasant such as yourself has no business using such words."

He picked at his ear in boredom as Saruta asked, "So, what is there to discuss, exactly?"

Uzatei shrugged, "What do you think? How many mysteries do you think remain to be solved? With the poor job you did of the last one, I can't say I'm too optimistic, in all honesty."

Ichijou mumbled, "What do you mean?"

Uzatei rolled his eyes, "It's futile. You figured it out in the end after all, yet you were unable to even grasp the Victim's warning."

Starting to realize what he was talking about, Ichijou recalled, "His note...he mentioned you, but alongside everyone else, like he was addressing you."

Minami grunted, "You altered the note, didn't you?"

"Finally! Have your minds been replaced with snails?" Uzatei replied. He explained, "Of course I did. Originally, he only said not to trust me. Such a bold proclamation: no less bold than the note he used to call me out. 'I know who you are. Let's settle things once and for all. Meet me in the Mall tonight.' Signed Gold Dragon, naturally, titles included, as always."

Furugori frowned, "As always? He didn't put down each of his titles all the time."

Uzatei sighed, "Did he now? Are you certain of that?"

Furugori nodded, sharing, "The note he left with the newspaper article! The picture of Prime Minister Sanada!"

Uzatei smirked, "Oh yes, how strange. Upon discovering the newspaper article in the middle of the night, he thought fit to share it through a note. And yet, when he discovered the Mall, he instead pretended he found it on his own, showing you all the next day. Did he realize Gold Dragon was getting distrusted, or was it something else?"

Saruta replied, "You seem to be implying the latter. Why not save us the trouble and answer?"

Uzatei rolled his eyes, "What fun would it be if I simply told you? Figure it out."

Ichijou tried to think of the implications, wondering what else it could be. If the one who shared the note hadn't been Ishihara, but someone pretending to be Gold Dragon...

Minami opened her mouth, stating at the same time as Ichijou, "A fake Gold Dragon?"

Uzatei shrugged, "What could I gain from pretending to be Gold Dragon?"

Minami suggested, "Exactly what you did gain: sowing dissent, undermining Ishihara Jouji."

Uzatei snorted, "He did a good enough job of that himself. So stubborn..."

Saruta said, "Then, perhaps you wanted an excuse to do what you wanted underneath the mask of someone else's actions."

"Which actions?" Uzatei wondered aloud.

Nagasaki counted the Gold Dragon sightings on her fingers, "The first note, meeting Kirigiri, the second note, the Hot Spring, the Cabin, the glove..."

Ichijou began, "The first note must have been Jouji. Uzatei said the second was his, but the rest had Jouji's costume, so they had to be him!"

Uzatei sighed, "If you insist." Gazing at Ichijou he wondered, "Do you?"

At his words, Ichijou thought back. One realization sent him reeling, the implications being rather unsettling. Gold Dragon had a hatred, a secret he had told only to Ichijou, one that didn't fit Ichijou's picture of Ishihara Jouji. He muttered, "That...that was you? At the Cabin?"

Nagasaki swallowed fearfully as Uzatei smirked. Continuing, Ichijou said, "And the glove..."

Uzatei nodded, "Right off of my own arm and into Tachibana's hands. And when I met Ishihara in the Mall, dressed almost identically except for one missing glove, he charged right at me in rage upon the realization. The first part of our fight was rather thrilling as we jumped around the Spire. He stopped underestimating me when I threw him into one of the metal streams surrounding the Spire."

"The horizontal bruise?" Saruta realized.

Uzatei continued, "And let's not forget how I stole his right glove mid fight, taking it with me as I left the scene. It seems that it was helpful as protection after all, for without it, he found his hand slashed."

Adjusting his hat, he began, "However, that was hardly the only mystery here. Ah, yes, the rest of Ishihara's warning." Ichijou blinked as he thought back to the note, but nothing stuck out in particular.

At the silence, Uzatei scoffed, "What? No one? Let's see...Monokuma's power over nature? It is not as though it's the first time we've seen it within these Games of Mutual Killing. I left you those books for a reason, you know."

Minami muttered, "Truth or lies..."

Ichijou swallowed as he said, "Don't tell me..."

Uzatei shrugged, "Don't worry, I won't."

With a shudder, Ichijou shook his head, saying, "What are you trying to say, huh?"

Minami frowned, a hand over her mouth in contemplation, "This...none of this is real, is it?"

Saruta seemed concerned as he asked, "How do you figure?"

Minami began, "Volume Two. Everything was the fabrication of some virtual reality."

Furugori shouted, shaking his head vigorously, "No! No way! I can't accept that!"

Uzatei rolled his eyes, "Really? That computer you examined doesn't make you wonder: if video is possible with such a small machine, what can a supercomputer with those components do?"

Furugori muttered in horror, but said nothing. As Uzatei continued to glare, the Computer Engineer managed to squeak, "Simulate...reality?"

Uzatei began to clap softly, murmuring, "Congratulations, Yasuo..."

Stepping away from her podium, Nagasaki muttered, "But how...am I real? Are you real?"

Uzatei shook his head, sighing, "Don't you get all existential on me..."

Minami began, "What about the others: they died, but if this isn't real..."

Uzatei snorted, "Oh, don't worry, they're dead. Even explaining the basics may break your Neanderthal brains."

Furugori, breathing heavily, seemingly on the edge of an anxiety attack, sweated as he stammered, "But how? How could technology have come so far in such a short time?"

Uzatei shook his head, "Fool. Don't you know who helped to create this project?" After a brief moment, Uzatei sighed, "You supplied the parts, and in a sense, the Super High School Level Programmer did the software. Others were involved, the works of a dead Neurologist implemented by a living one, a Therapist overseeing, but they certainly don't matter."

The Computer Engineer shook his head, muttering, "Impossible! Impossible! Absolutely, positively impossible!"

Saruta noted, "Tachibana did say that you trapped us here..." Furugori looked at the Surgical Assistant in horror.

Uzatei explained, "What do you think is possible when a Super High School Level Computer Engineer gets decades of experience after three years with best possible schooling in the known world?"

Starting to sweat himself, Ichijou repeated, "What do you mean 'decades'?"

Furugori stared in shock, before wondering aloud, "It's only a little into 1975...right?"

The silence in the room was nearly palpable. The first to speak was Saruta, who said with a bit of worry, "If you mean 1979, then yes."

Minami said only one thing blankly, "1990."

Nagasaki counted on her fingers, "I was gone for ten years, but my boat trip was in 1993, so it's..."

At Ichijou's silence, the others turned to him, seeing the Luckster's face stretched into a nervous smile. "Aha. Ahahahaha," Ichijou began to laugh, his hands roughly running down his hair. His laughter increased in volume as he felt his mind begin to blank, sinking to his knees behind his podium, his hands wrapped around the wooden bars, his laughter ceasing with a horrified groan.

In utter disbelief, Ichijou somehow managed to shriek, gasping, "1939!"

Eyes wide, Saruta gasped in disbelief, "No!" Nagasaki only stared in silence.

Furugori let out a low whine, leaning on his podium as he muttered, "No wonder you didn't know what a computer was..."

Minami shook her head, "Or the Tokyo Tower, the moon landing..."

Uzatei noted, "World War II."

Ichijou slumped deeper, voice cracking as he shouted, "The world went to war again? But…no! I mean, I know about the Great War."

Uzatei snorted, "We call that one 'World War I' nowadays. But the third one? I don't believe any of you are aware of that. I suppose you could call it a war, at the very least, but it was not between countries: but men and women, friend and foe, neighbor against neighbor: all on a personal level. Starting in 2011 was The Most Despair Inducing Incident in Human History, the result of Enoshima Junko's scheming's, and the fallout from the Final Exam of Mutual Killing described in the Secret Volume." Grabbing his hat and lowering it over his face, he quickly withdrew it, seeming to grow in stature a bit, his face becoming a few years older, the base of his chin becoming covered in a small bit of beard.

He finished, "68th Class Super High School Level Fashion Designer and First Generation Super High School Level Despair, Uzatei Kotetsu. My schooling at Hope's Peak began in 2000, years before I first encountered, or even heard of Enoshima Junko."

Minami snarled, "Stop saying ridiculous things!"

Uzatei raised his finger, waving it as he chided, "Is the truth so ridiculous, Minami Fuyuko? Or would you like me to return you to your natural, aged forms, as I did myself? Should that not be all the proof you need?" Minami swallowed, but did not reply.

Ichijou felt sick to his stomach. More than seventy years of his life were missing, and he couldn't remember a day of it. Keeling over, he burped a mouthful of stomach acid onto the ground, but no one was in the mood to even begin to comfort him.

As the Students remained silent, Uzatei simply watched them mull over the revelations, seemingly slightly amused by it all. He began, "Ah yes, where was I earlier? Is it really such a surprise that I was able to kill Ishihara Jouji so easily? That 40th Class Superhero gave me training himself! I lived through the Worst Incident. I would even go as far as to say that Ishihara Jouji as you knew him was ten, twenty years too early to defeat me…" He added, "And speaking of younger selves, I was such a naïve lad at 17, no? I hope I imparted that onto you well. The things I had to do to convince you of my age, like allow that hag Kobayashi's tongue in my throat: she's lucky I didn't vomit."

Mind temporarily taken from his own thoughts, Ichijou recalled the conversation he had when they were swimming, muttering, "You said you couldn't stop thinking about her…"

Uzatei shrugged, "Exactly. Did I not just say it was disgusting? She was no less than 50 years old. Could you imagine? I wish I could forget."

Nagasaki, muttered, "Ah, our memories...can you restore them?"

Uzatei replied, "Perhaps, but that is dependent on how things turn out."

That statement seemed to bring a sense of order to the Court, the Students turning their gazes to Uzatei. Even Ichijou had managed to wrench himself to his feet, wiping his lip.

"What do you mean?" Minami demanded.

"Sixteen swallows hope: in the bay where old blood runs: tragically fleeting," Uzatei stated. He finished, "Surely you must know something."

Furugori muttered, "Why is that stupid poem so important?"

Uzatei explained, "It was written by Enoshima Junko for one express purpose. While the purpose is known to me, the location it refers to is not. To be more direct, I simply ask, 'where is the bay where old blood runs'?"

"Old blood, huh..." Saruta muttered. With a dark laugh, he noted, "We're all old, are we not?"

Minami shrugged, "Speak for yourself."

Ichijou whined, "Give me a break, Minami-san..." Minami swallowed a bit uncomfortably.

Uzatei nodded, "The point stands however, the one most likely to know anything would no doubt be Ichijou Mitsuzi. What harbor did you trip and scrape your knee in, and how did Enoshima know? That is the biggest question: as competent as that girl is, she is not Omni competent."

Ichijou gritted his teeth, explaining, "I don't know anything! I lived at my town in the countryside for my whole life, until I got that letter. I took some trips to a slightly larger one to do some research, then went to Hope's Peak to start the year, but I never went by boat!"

Uzatei pondered for a moment, before noting, "There must be something...the two virtual reality projects have never removed the memories of someone such as yourself. In fact, the previous time it was used only removed the memories of teenagers, aging them down only a few years. Even the youngest members of this Game were a few years older than that, let alone you, who is perhaps the oldest man alive today. Or has it worked perfectly, with you living like you were 17 again?"

Ichijou racked his brain, not knowing how he would know any different. Uzatei clued him in, "I mean, aside from divining Kirigiri Kasumi's real name." Ichijou's eyes widened, and Uzatei continued, "Oh yes, Ichijou, you have known her for fifty years of your lives, and several of those under the surname you gave her here. It was no coincidence."

Minami gasped, "H-how old was she?"

Uzatei thought for a moment, before explaining, "Roughly seventy. She never attended Hope's Peak Academy, however, which facilitated the need to remove even more of her memories than usual. 'I never walked through the gate of Hope's Peak, but I remember everything else.' Oh no, we couldn't have that." Minami reeled, as did Ichijou.

However, regardless of Ichijou's feelings, Uzatei continued to badger him, demanding, "What else has stuck in your brain, Ichijou? Tell me!"

Swallowing, Ichijou ignored his nauseous stomach and blurted the first this that came to mind. "T-Takenouchi!"

As Uzatei raised an eyebrow, Saruta recalled, "The one who owns this Resort?"

Ichijou nodded, "The name seems...familiar. I felt the same way about Kasumi's name. When she told me her name started with 'Kasu', it just popped into my head."

Scratching his lightly bearded chin, Uzatei began, "And if you were to give a name to someone with the family name of Takenouchi, what would it be?"

Ichijou swallowed, thinking, once again saying the first thing that popped into his mind, "H-Hikari?"

Uzatei stared at Ichijou, before noting, "Takenouchi Hikari..." With a smirk, he began to chortle, "How maddening. All of this, and the answer was under my nose the whole time."

Blinking, Ichijou asked, "Is she...someone I know?"

"Knew," Uzatei replied. "And I believe you were fond of her to some degree. After all, you remembered this place, and suggested it be used as the grounds for a Base, which in turn led to it being replicated in the virtual reality."

"How did I know her! Tell me!" Ichijou demanded.

"As you wish," Uzatei said without hesitation. Raising his hand, he pointed his index and middle fingers at Ichijou, before pulling them backwards, expelling air from his lips, as if imitating a gunshot.

Before Ichijou could question his odd action, he felt a frighteningly familiar sensation. Gripping his chest, he no longer felt his heartbeat. He felt his vision blur as he lost feeling in his body, the sky rushing to dominate his field of vision as he collapsed. The last thing he heard was, "Yes, three years ought to do it: the full tenure."

Archeologist

August 15th, 1940

"Oi, Ichijou-kun. Wake up."

The voice, and knuckle in the side of his stomach, prompted Ichijou Mitsuzi to awaken. Looking around, he saw that he was exactly where he'd fallen asleep for the most part: the cushioned seat of a bus. However, as he smelled salty air, he knew he was no longer anywhere close to Hope's Peak Academy. He was just beginning the 7th Class Trip, in his second year at Hope's Peak Academy.

Rubbing his eyes and smacking his lips, he looked around as he heard the impatient clicking of his friends tongue. Opening his eyes, he saw a boy with light blue hair, a white lab coat over his white dress shirt and red tie, his legs clad in brown slacks: the typical Hope's Peak Uniform. Ichijou disliked the stuffy things, and wore his light blue yukata without any hint of remorse.

Katsuragi Seijiro, the 7th Class Super High School Level Neurologist, said in frustration, "I'm going. Enjoy the bus ride back."

Ichijou jumped to his feet, laughing, "I'm up, I'm up!" The Neurologist sighed as he led the way out of the bus. Stepping outside, Ichijou got a good look around at their rather...unorthodox location for a Class Trip. Instead of traditional locals for the journeys, like foreign countries, or local sites like Kyoto, one of the classmates campaigned for this port town, Muroran, known for its industry. Luckily, there were other spots in the prefecture of Hokkaido worth checking out, but Ichijou had to admit, this was a rather uninteresting first stop. He'd put up with it though. One on side, he saw hills in the distance, buildings stretching part of the way there, but most of the life seemed to be congregated at the coast, where numerous docks jutted out into the sea, boats coming in and leaving. The bus was parked on one street, near a cozy looking building marked, 'Fukage Inn'.

Looking around at his classmates, their current 'teacher' guiding them, a scholar, also in a suit and tie, his black hair cut short, began, "Alright, now that we're all here..." He shot Ichijou a look, the Luckster simply scratching his head sheepishly, before beginning, "I want you to make four groups of four. You are free to explore, mingle with the locals, buy souvenirs...but don't cause trouble! And meet back here around evening for a meal!" There was a murmur from the Class, so the guide finished, "We'll head to Sapporo tomorrow morning." There were a few sighs of relief, and enthusiasm seemed to return at the promise of a more interesting city.

As everyone began to mull about, forming groups, Ichijou grabbed Katsuragi's shoulder as he began to walk away. "Where ya goin', Seiji-kun?"

Katsuragi answered, "To get...oh, there she is." He stopped trying to move as they were approached by one of the four girls in their class. She was fairly average in height, her long, brown hair stretching past the collar of her white dress shirt, her red tie hanging over her average sized chest. She also wore a brown skirt that stretched to her shins, her black stockings covering the rest of her leg. Her shoulders were a bit slumped, normally being accustomed to holding a large backpack.

Ichijou smiled, "Hey there, Takenouchi-chan!"

The 7th Class Super High School Level Archeologist, Takenouchi Hikari smiled at the two boys, asking, "May I join you?" The girl was the only female of the Class who was remotely close to Ichijou, and that was the result of her friendship with Katsuragi. She was also polite...when her passion wasn't involved.

The Neurologist nodded, "Absolutely, we just need one more..." Looking around, Ichijou saw one outcast by himself. Approaching the tall boy, Katsuragi groaned when he saw Ichijou's target.

Putting his hand on the caped shoulder, Ichijou asked, "Hey, Johannes-kun, wanna be in our group?"

The tall boy turned, his body clad in a full suit of armor, except for his face, which remained uncovered, his shoulder length, platinum blonde hair flowing freely. His back was covered by a white cape, and a sword hung as his side, sheathed. With a wide smile, he said, "I would be glad to join you, Mitsuzi!" His armor clattered against itself as he approached the other two, bowing, "Hikari, Seijiro: it is a pleasure to serve."

Katsuragi muttered, "We've been Classmates for over a year now; calm down." Sir Johannes Harrian, Super High School Level Knight, simply laughed.

The group formed, the four began to give the city a tour, walking through the bay, overlooking the ocean. The occasionally observed as sailors from all sorts of countries pulled in and out to take part in the city's industry of steel working, trading the metal for goods. Johannes was even able to have a conversation with some German ones, the European speaking their tongue. Germans seemed to be getting more common in Japan lately...

However, the novelty of Muroran wore off after an hour. Either they were bad at searching, or the town didn't have much to it.

As they walked, Takenouchi sighed, "Ah, I would have liked to go to Kyoto. They have such nice temples." He eyes lit up as she further suggested, "Or Rome! Egypt!" With a sigh, her eyes became hollow as she muttered, "The world was our oyster, and we wasted it on this..."

Johannes said boisterously, "Hahaha! The world remains to be our oyster, for we are young and full of youth!"

"Sure, sure..." Takenouchi sighed.

Katsuragi said dully, "I can punch Shibui, if you'd like."

Takenouchi laughed, before saying, "No, no, it's fine."

"Punch who?" came a voice from an alleyway the group was passing. Ichijou froze, looking over to see yet another of his classmates. The black haired boy sat on a cracked barrel, a bottle of amber liquid in his hand, his long hair tied at the base, the tail flowing up and away from his head. He gazed at his classmates through sharp, perpetually angry eyes. He also did not conform to the uniform, wearing black shorts underneath half of a red yukata, only one sleeve worn, the other off to reveal his bare, muscled chest. He wore geta sandals on his feet, and at his hip was a single katana.

Ichijou smiled nonchalantly, "Hey there, Shibui-kun!"

Ignoring the Luckster, the Super High School Level Ronin, Shibui Rikiei grumbled, "Like I said, punch who?"

Takenouchi shook her hands defensively, "Er, I just don't really care for this place is all."

Shibui spat, before hissing, "So, bring it up with my brother instead of whining about it like a woman. Oh, right."

As Takenouchi frowned, Johannes took a step forwards, his face contorted into a quiet ferocity as he stated, "As if your words weren't vulgar enough, as usual, what is that you're drinking? Nothing legal, it seems."

Shibui shrugged, "I found it on the ground, but that's none of your business: I was talking to her."

"Starting trouble, by my eyes," Johannes stated firmly.

Shibui hissed, "Yeah, Takenouchi, stop starting trouble."

The Archeologist frowned, "I'm sorry, I'll talk with your brother, fine."

Katsuragi reminded him, "It was me you were-"

Ignoring him, Shibui spat at Takenouchi, "Speak with more respect!"

Johannes spoke, "No, you."

Ichijou muttered, "Guys..."

Shibui got in the face of the taller boy, his hand on the hilt of his katana threateningly as he hissed, "This doesn't involve you!"

Johannes glared, "Not yet. Don't change that."

Gritting his teeth, Shibui glared, "Don't you speak down to me!"

"Guys!" Ichijou shouted.

But it was too late. There was a flash of steel, followed by the scraping of metal against of metal. Johannes stepped back, his hand reaching for his own longsword, blood dripping from one of his arms, in line with a scratch on his mail. He bumped into Takenouchi, causing the girl to fall to her rear. Katsuragi seemed to want to go to her aid, but the clanging of sword against sword made him and Ichijou hesitant to get closer.

The two twirled as metal clashed, the more nimble Shibui continuing to scrap against Johannes' armor, while the flat of the Knight's sword bashed and bruised Shibui's arms. Every time Takenouchi tried to get up, a foot got in her way, or a blade crossed too close by her, but she was able to crawl a short distance despite her long skirt.

As they fought, Johannes insisted, "Your blade will dull quickly against my armor."

Shibui snorted, "I can cut through a tank! I'm not even trying!" As the two strafed each other, Johannes took a deep cut on the underside of his elbow, the joint less armored than the rest of his body. Gritting his teeth, the Knight became more serious: the Ronin had been playing with fire, and now it aimed to burn.

Stepping back, Johannes held his sword in one hand, before lunging forwards. Shibui, swift as ever, slipped to the Knight's side, kicking his sandal at Johannes' shin. The Knight stumbled, eyes widening as he realized the path of his blade. In midair, he managed to guide the path slightly, but he could not stop as the sharp blade cut into Takenouchi Hikari's shoulder blade, piecing through and scraping the stone ground.

The four boys looked on in horror as the prone girl saw the sword in her shoulder, before promptly letting out a light gasp and fainting. Johannes stepped back, looking at the blood on his hands in horror. Ichijou was frozen solid, completely shocked by the scene he'd just witnessed, the scent of fresh blood making him gag. Katsuragi was quick, running off to get help.

Shibui gritted his teeth, stepping over to the girl after grabbing his bottle, dumping the contents onto the wound. He spat, "Get it together and help me!" Hands still shaking, Johannes put aside what emotion he could, going to his aid. Forever useless, Ichijou could only watch...

Takenouchi Hikari survived the incident, but her arm never moved quite the same again. The event was considered the first time blood was shed among Hope's Peak Academy Students by its staff, and was one of the darker stories traded down from one generation of employees to the next, never being truly forgotten.

Takenouchi Hikari would eventually earn her doctorate some years after graduating, and later come to own Arashimine Mountain. It flourished under her management as both a historical site and tourist destination, until she became unfit to continue her work due to age. After her death, those remaining scrambled to keep it relevant in the hectic 21st century, a number of questionable decisions resulting in a massive loss in revenue.

Except for Ichijou Mitsuzi and Katsuragi Seijiro, the entire 7th Class would die before, or during, The Most Despair Inducing Incident in Human History.

With a gasp of air, Ichijou began to stir again, able to feel the wind on his body. Opening his eyes, he began to formulate what had happen. Somehow, he had just re-experienced his time at Hope's Peak, from walking through the gates, to his graduation ceremony. Every conversation, class, or adventure he had with the fifteen Students in his year, his occasional, fruitless trips back home.

But that one incident stuck out for some reason. Shibui, Johannes, Takenouchi, Katsuragi...

Muroran.

As he thought about it, he recalled another little detail. He was the only Luckster in the school during his first year: none of the previous years had one. He'd coincidentally learned another thing from one of the other students that year: the swallow had another name.

Shakily, Ichijou got back to his feet, looking at the room in shock. Nagasaki asked, "Are you okay?"

Uzatei smirked, "I hope so. He experienced three years of life in three minutes. Of course, his brain isn't mush, as I gave him several days' worth of accelerated sleep for his mind sort it out, just to be sure."

Saruta sputtered, "In an instant?"

Nagasaki gasped, "That night! In the Cabin."

Uzatei shrugged, "Sure, you caught me. I spent most of that night awake, of course. What choice did I have with the constant threat of being unma-"

"I figured it out."

Uzatei looked over at Ichijou, a satisfied smile on his face as he asked, "Oh?" He added, "Go line by line, if you please."

Ichijou swallowed, nodding, "'Sixteen swallows hope'...swallows are also called martin birds, which can symbolize luck. It was referring to my Class of students. I'm the first Luckster, of the 7th Class, the first one to be associated with Luck."

Catching his breath, he continued, "'In the bay where old blood runs'...she wasn't old, she might not even be alive anymore. Takenouchi Hikari was the Super High School Level Archeologist, someone who regularly dealt with old stuff. There was an incident on our Class trip, where she was stabbed. We were in a port town in Hokkaido called 'Muroran.'"

Ichijou finished, "'Tragically fleeting'... I don't know what, but there's a clock, and it's ticking, isn't there?"

Uzatei's eyes widened in realization, and he nodded, "That will be enough. Very good. Very good..."

Having shared Ichijou's findings, word for word, Oonishi Eiji watched the screen as Kinashi Ririka pondered, the attack team looking quite strange as they appeared to sit around Kinashi, awaiting further orders. Tsujimoto was closest to the camera, waiting just as anxiously as those in Kālá Base.

Kinashi finally shared, "Muroran...well, that was not so hard, was it?" Eiji glared.

Mahiro demanded, "Now, hold up your end of the bargain: why all of this?"

Kinashi nodded, beginning, "I am a woman of my word. Of course, the poem was not the only thing in Enoshima's lab. As I said, there was another clue there, which the two of us knew to refer to boats, furthering the need to find the port it referred to. Now that we know, it should be an easy matter to find what Enoshima hid. Muroran was only the first step, and you know what they say: the first step is the most difficult in any journey."

Katsuragi Seijiro grumbled, "And the next?"

Kinashi smiled, "Secret." At the dejection, she began, "However, I will not leave you helpless. I may not tell you the second step, but I shall reveal the last. Squirreled away in Enoshima Junko's false home were a few errant devices and a large amount of paperwork, copied or snatched from Hope's Peak Academy, no doubt. The world did not expect to end, after all: much was left unfinished."

"Enoshima Junko was no different, and upon learning that little fact after discerning that same tidbit about herself. Tachibana Chiyoko combined her unfinished work with Enoshima's, resulting in this Game. The prize, I would say is quite valuable."

With a giggle, Kinashi finished, "The goal of this whole escapade is none other than Hope's Peak Academy's 79th Class."

As Eiji considered the possibilities, Katsuragi stood as suddenly as his old body could allow, shouting, "No! You lie!"

Mahiro added, "Hope's Peak was closed before...no..."

Kinashi smiled, "Yes. Enoshima Junko had Hope's Peak Academy in her palm for two years, she knew full well that the staff scouted sixteen Students in preparation for the next school year. Before they could attend, however..."

Tsujimoto answered from underneath the Exam Building, "The Worst Incident..."

Kinashi nodded, "I have evidence that Enoshima kidnapped these Students before any of this began. Why or how, we did not even have a thought until today, but now it is clear. They were called to Muroran and snatched up. Whether they are still there, or have moved on to another location, or even the afterlife, I know not."

Katsuragi seemed to melt, falling to his weak knees as he mumbled weepily, "No, it can't be...he's." Eiji listened closely as he muttered, sobbing, "My grandson might be alive..."

Kinashi's eyes narrowed as Eiji remembered an old friend claiming she had an older brother. Katsuragi finished, "He left, for Muroran, just before the Event. I thought...I never imagined they were connected." Bowing his head, he sobbed angrily, "And I forgot! I don't remember a thing about that Class trip! I'm a disgrace!"

Asumi Haruka swallowed, going to his side, patting his back as she said reassuringly, "Ichijou-san might not have remembered either if not for this."

Kinashi sighed, before beginning, "Very well, I suppose it is a race of sorts. So much potential in sixteen, untouched Talents: provided they are still alive after whatever Enoshima Junko had in mind for them, and I do Hope very much so. Those plans are no doubt on a backburner deep in the hell of her deceased mind, and even I must admit I am curious as to why." Raising her board of switches, she added, "Unfortunately for you all, you shall never meet them and discover the truth."

Realizing in horror what she was about to do, Eiji gasped as Kinashi raised her arm, holding it against the bottom row of switches. She pushed the limb against them, flipping them all at once. There was nothing. Moving on, Kinashi flipped the next row, and Eiji felt some shaking from elsewhere. Then she moved on to the second to last row, the explosions starting to feel closer.

Eiji spat, "Hey! You said you'd free them!"

Kinashi blinked, before replying, "Correction, I said they would be freed. I, however, do not have the means. That is Uzatei's responsibility." Turning back to her board, Kinashi smiled softly, finishing, "Goodbye, Oonishi Eiji."

As she moved to the last row, Eiji felt a pair of arms shove him down to the ground, a weight pressing down on him, shielding him as one more set of explosions rumbled throughout the building. One was close, very close, the sound of the explosion deafening Eiji, rubble falling down from above, choking him with dust, the monitor blacking out.

And then, he knew no more.

Sweat beading on her forehead, Kirigiri moved her tools with as much dexterity as her aged fingers could allow as they mingled within the exposed innards of a bomb.

Taking steady breaths, she could hear voices through the wall from the other side. She currently worked in an office, body across the floor, head underneath a desk. From above, Alter Ego gave instruction from the speaker of the computer screen. Kirigiri had managed to disable a couple bombs so far, but she certainly hadn't been nearly as successful as any of the others: Oonishi, his father, Urushibara...even Katsuragi had better luck at it than her.

Backing off a bit, she took a breath, trying to steady herself. She couldn't stop, as much as she wanted to see what was happening with the Trial and Kinashi...would she really detonate the bombs?

Trying to think back to the others, she wondered how they were faring without her. Sure, they had managed the last time, but...

Shaking her head, Kirigiri went back to work. She could definitely trust them! There wasn't anything she could do anyway, and she'd given Ichijou as much tutoring as she could. Certainly, they would do fi-

"Kirigiri-san! Kinashi..."

As Alter Ego's words came to ear, Kirigiri realized what was happening immediately. Looking at the bomb in front of her she knew she had two options: run, or finish up here.

On second thought, there really wasn't much choice.

Tools going to work, her hands moved faster than they had in the past few days. Alter Ego cried, "Kirigiri-san!?" Pushing her words out of her mind, Kirigiri kept going. Even as she heard a distance rumble, she didn't stop. The next, closest one, didn't stop her either.

With one more click of the pliers, another explosion sounded out, Kirigiri's senses blotted out as the building shuddered. Kirigiri ducked, but all went quiet. Daring to look up, the wall bordering the next room over had cracked. Hands starting to shake, she looked down at the bomb she'd just finished disarming, which had gone quiet.

"Kirigiri-san? Kirigiri-san!?"

Standing, Kirigiri turned and nodded to the relieved face on the screen, before wobbling over to the chair, taking a seat.

She was getting too old for this.

As Uzatei stood in silence, contemplating the solution, Ichijou could swear he felt a shudder of his senses. However, seeing that no one else seemed to react, he figured it was just his imagination.

Furugori grumbled, "Well? Are we done?"

Uzatei shrugged, "I hope so."

Minami snarled, "What do you mean 'you hope so'!?"

"I mean, I have no way of knowing what's going on outside. For all I know, my little accomplices could have offed themselves. I suppose I should just release you, and walk into my death with open arms," Uzatei muttered.

With a chuckle, he finished, "But I am far too petty a person to do that. No, no, no: let the likes of you back into the real world!? You can't be serious."

"You..." Nagasaki glared.

Uzatei scoffed, "Give me one good reason why I should!"

Ichijou blathered, "Fine then, let's end this, if you really think you can stand up to all of us."

Uzatei stared at Ichijou blankly, before a smile crept to the edge of his lips. He snorted, before erupting into a fit of mocking laughter. Then, mid laugh, he became as solid as a stone, glaring, "That's quite amusing coming from you, you know." Adjusting, his hat, Uzatei muttered, "'We can get out of this, I know we can!' 'You have to have Hope.' What other idiocies will that forked tongue stake out?"

Blood starting to chill, Ichijou asked shakily, "What are you talking about?"

Uzatei revealed, "What am I talking about? You said it to me yourself: all those cheap Hope-isms you spout...you don't even believe them yourself! You're no innocent little country boy: you're at least half as jaded and cynical as I!"

Ichijou gawked, "Th-that's a lie!" But the truth was, those words pierced him like an arrow, and he leaned against his podium for support.

Uzatei replied, "Oh? Did you not say it during to me that one night, in the Cabin?"

Ichijou's jaw dropped, and he swallowed, "That was...that was..."

Uzatei finished, shaking his head, "You didn't figure it out the moment I started talking about 'Talent'? That was neither Ishihara Jouji nor Gold Dragon speaking. That was none other than myself. A certain woman, a former Hope's Peak Student, inspired me down that path. When I first heard of her, I thought 'what kind of person would shun progress?' But then I realized how right she was. All of us standing in this room are abominations against nature and troublemakers beyond belief. Hope's Peak destroyed this world you love so dearly: without Talent, Enoshima Junko would not have had been able to steal the tools she used to dismantle the old world. She may not think that way nowadays but...she's completely correct: Hope's Peak Academy was a mistake in every sense."

Glaring at Ichijou, he spat, "All you've done in your life is give students of the world Hope that they could be chosen as a Luckster and become successful in life, regardless of how pitiful or lazy they were. Why actually give forth effort when you can simply pray things will turn out any better?" Ichijou didn't respond, his thoughts mushing about too much for him to form so much as a coherent sentence.

Panning the room and looking at the others, Uzatei pointed out, "You all knew it was me from the very beginning, didn't you? But you didn't point fingers so blatantly, because you wanted to trust Ichijou Mitsuzi and is Hopes. He seemed to earnestly believe I, and the rest of you, were all 'good people'. How very wrong he is."

Looking over to Nagasaki, Uzatei continued, "You? How much blood stains that knife? Tamura's, Ganaha's, Minami's...no, more, many more. You're a rabid beast who needs to be put down." Nagasaki shuddered at his words, biting her lip and looking away shamefully.

Turning to Furugori, Uzatei stated, "And you: you helped a Programmer to make the New World Program, and later developed the prison you cry out against to this very second. Two Killing Games resulted from that. A good thing in my book: less Talent to go around! But you? This certainly can't be something you're proud of." Furugori gulped, wiping at his sweaty forehead.

Glancing to the side at Saruta, Uzatei simply snorted, "No comment." Saruta seemed unfettered at the remark, but one shaky breath dispelled any illusions.

As Uzatei looked over to Minami, the hulking girl snorted, "Try me."

Uzatei grinned eagerly, "Oh please. Believe it or not, you're the worst of the bunch. I needn't even go into your future: your past here is bad enough! Why did Mikage Naoki have to die?"

Minami shrugged, "Not only was I forced by your incentive to act, but you seem to think any Talented death as a good thing."

Uzatei nodded, "True..." He smiled as he continued, "Very well, we shall go into your future after all. After the death of your husband, Zouichi, you sought to preserve his legacy by building a tower, one larger than the Tokyo Tower, like you'd dreamed." Minami's eyes widened, his words no doubt piercing layers to the girl she had only revealed to few. Uzatei went on, "However, you went through a lot to make that project a reality, but your investors didn't see it as worthwhile. You had to work with the budget you had, but the contracted companies you hired were...useless. There were accidents, fights: even a Super High School Level Contractor couldn't keep it all in line. The project failed, and you were bankrupted, and moved to the streets, finding work where you could. I'd be surprised if you didn't think to take your own life."

Minami shook in horror, but she still said defiantly, "You lie."

Uzatei shrugged, "Perhaps on one bit. After all, you couldn't really take your own life: not with two children to take care of. Such a shame though, even they couldn't amount to anything. Your youngest, Taira, died during the Worst Incident after a non-notable childhood, to no one's surprise."

"No! That name...why do you know that name!?" Minami shouted in agony.

Uzatei didn't stop, "But that wasn't all, your oldest lived through the Worst Incident, using his Talent wisely. He was kidnapped, and placed in a Killing Game. He strangled an innocent girl-"

"Noooo!" Minami wailed, her large hands over her ears. Tears began to well up in the muscular girl's eyes as she tried to repress her emotions.

"You gave birth to the Honorary 80th Class's Mizunoe Higaide, the Super High School Level Carpenter and the second Culprit of the Entrance Exam of Mutual Killing. A murdering monster who spawned yet another! To think you could raise someone like that...you're a vile human, who certainly doesn't deserve to live, Mizunoe Fuyuko," Uzatei finished bitterly. Minami had fallen to her knees, unable to bear the truth.

Looking down at the large girl who had pushed him around for the last two weeks, Uzatei continued, "And what's with that reaction? You knew! You must have, to have names for your children picked out several years in advance, the resemblance…ah, but you were in denial, weren't you? So Hopeful…"

As wind continued to blow through the Courtroom, there was silence, Uzatei looking around at the others, whom were too guilty or shamed to say another word. Uzatei smirked, holding up his hand, his fingers seeming to grasp at empty air. Looking at his empty hand, he muttered, "True beauty...is seeing that which is loved be destroyed. I must thank you all, for living your lives to the fullest, Hopefully looking to the next day and enjoying it despite the Despair you caused. How beautiful you all look right now."

Uzatei waved his hand, the screen on the podiums changing, displaying two words clearly, which he read, "'Live' or 'Die'. It seems like such an obvious choice, no? That is human nature...no, it is simply nature. The life form lives, provides offspring to the next generation, passes on what knowledge it can, and then dies. But humans are special. They have intelligence, sapience: they can choose to remove themselves from the burden of Life if they so choose, and go against that natural order. After all, not all Life is worth living. You needn't only look at yourselves: what about your friends? All of them chose to risk Death for Life, all on their own human nature."

"Lust: the desire to reproduce, and pass one's genes to the next generation. Ah, but Kobayashi Nagisa never had that chance, did she? Not in here, not out there, and she stripped that chance from Andou Moriko as well."

"Hatred: a feeling aimed at rivals, so that one might have a better chance at survival by finding an outlet for negative feelings. Sanada Shinji hated his Talented brother so much he would subtract Tamura Ryunosuke and Yokozuna Hina from the equation just to have a chance to watch him fall."

"Fear: survival instinct, the natural desire to get out of harm's way when danger comes. Kirigiri Kasumi couldn't bear her fears, so she finished the job Minami Fuyuko started for the same reason, killing Mikage Naoki, yet another fearful child."

"Security: the desire to be able to rest in a safe location. Had Tachibana Chiyoko not acted, I wonder who would have lived or died? But sure enough, Ganaha Eriko died wishing for better security. Perhaps she would have lived if she hadn't let her guard down..."

"Sustenance: the desire to eat and drink, so that you may live to the next day. Ishihara Jouji, your feeder, died challenging I, his killer, Uzatei Kotetsu, thinking that at the very least, the rest of you could eat for one more day."

"Don't be ashamed, guilty, or frightened: what they did was human nature. Those cold blooded attackers were just acting out the natural tradition of murder, started with Cain and Abel. But you have a chance to go beyond that human nature, and Die. No longer will you suffer, or cause others to suffer."

"What else awaits you? I mean, if you desire to go back to your old, broken bodies, I must ask: are you insane? It's a frightening world to wake up in, with or without your memories. Even if I do restore them, can you bear seeing what kind of wretch you've become?"

"You have five minutes. Choose," Uzatei finished haughtily.

The Courtroom contained nothing but the sound of the wind, and the silence of the occupants.

After one minute had passed, Ichijou finally began to think coherently again. It was not easy: three years of memories returned, the inconsistencies clashing with these last two weeks in his brain.

After two minutes had passed, Ichijou had processed what the Fashion Designer had said, the potential truths of his words.

Uzatei sounded so malicious, but Ichijou couldn't help but agree, somewhat. His whole life, as far as he knew, he felt stifled by the thought of his inevitable death. But now it was far closer than it had seemed. Ninety-one years was a long time for anyone to live, apocalypse or not. Was it...

Was it really worth it?

Ichijou had nothing to say.

After four minutes...he stopped thinking, and began to feel, like when Uzatei asked him to think of Takenouchi's name. If he could not think of the answer...perhaps an old man, with ninety years of life, could share some insight? Had every one of his memories and feelings been stripped? What did he himself from just before the start of the Killing Game feel?

One minute later, Uzatei began, "Time's up. Now-"

"One moment," Ichijou began. Uzatei turned a harsh gaze onto him, but the Luckster didn't falter. Ichijou took a deep breath, exhaling, before beginning, "I'm not really satisfied. I mean, you said all the bad things we've done, or might do...but you ignored the good ones. Aren't you lying?"

Uzatei scoffed, "Good ones? Are you joking?"

Ichijou shook his head, stating, "I'm not." Looking around at the others, he began, "Nagasaki-chan is a good person with some heavy trauma. She's caused trouble, but I can't hold that against her. For all the things she's gone through, she still looks forward." Nagasaki said nothing, her gaze turning towards the ground.

"Furugori-kun..." Ichijou began stopping, looking around. He continued, "He really knows his stuff when it comes to computers. I never could have even dreamed of something like this. There must be all kinds of things possible because of him. How can you dare say they're all bad?" Furugori wiped his forehead, looking at Ichijou with a mystified expression.

"Saruta-san...I'll admit, I'm still not sure what to think about you in some ways, but you save lives! I'm just repeating after myself, but as long as you're alive...I think tomorrow would be better than a world without you." Saruta bit his lip, clearly at a loss.

"Minami-san...you too. You've done some bad things but in the end, they've all been motivated by a deep, honest love. That's inspiring, isn't it? And you're still alive, even after all the bad things that happened. I won't believe you once ever considered suicide."

Uzatei scoffed, "Love!? Oh give me a break and press the 'Die' button."

Ignoring him, Ichijou continued, "But me? I'm a liar: I don't think I ever really believed for certain that we could get out of here; I just pretended to Hope we would, through some miracle. But I would never lie when talking about you guys. You're all really amazing: you have all your strengths, ambitions, and passions. I really look up to you. But me? I'm just...a hopeless, Lucky idiot."

"That's wrong...that's wrong!" Nagasaki yelled, her voice cracking, having not been raised that high in more than a decade. Nagasaki explained, "You just want to help people. Even lying can be fine to help someone, probably..."

"I concur!" Furugori added. With a smile, he said, "And Uzatei even said it himself, didn't he? You're successful! You've inspired a nation's worth of children. Uzatei made that sound like a bad thing? Maybe he's just jealous."

"Indeed," Saruta added, "And you call yourself an idiot? You're above the average, certainly, and there's nothing shameful about that. You aren't just comparing yourself to Kirigiri, are you?"

"But you are wrong, Ichijou," Minami said roughly. "You're not hopeless at all. You believed in us, didn't you? Even without any good reason. That's about as Hopeful as it gets."

Uzatei retched, "Please, stop. You're maddening! Just keep lying to yourselves, it's pathetic."

Taking one more deep breath, Ichijou filled himself with Hope, thinking on the name Kirigiri, and the detective family who he somehow knew held it; only one word came to mind.

"No, I don't think any of us are lying. That's the truth!" Ichijou said firmly. "But you can't realize it, can you? You're too cynical, bitter, and envious. You said the incentives were human nature but...I think they're just your nature."

"Oh, you think you know me? Such conceit, it's unfitting of your status," Uzatei sneered.

Ichijou sighed, "Really? You hate us so much you want to watch us die, right?"

Minami snorted, "And as Super High School Level Despair, you're probably worshipping Enoshima. Why build a Shrine for her otherwise? Perhaps there are more primal reasons behind it?"

Uzatei scowled, "You know nothing!"

Minami clicked her tongue, "So defensive. Are you not ten years older than her? You disgust me."

Furugori noted, "And if you want to kill everyone Talented…maybe you're just envious? Insecure, if you will. All you do is make clothes." Uzatei clenched his fist, unable to do more than glare.

Nagasaki added, "You can barely talk…you're afraid of us...I can smell it. You're afraid we're right."

Saruta shook his head, "To think that Ishihara-san was bested for such a flimsy incentive by a weak willed soul such as yourself. The fact that I of all people can say that with a clear conscious should tell you how low you really are."

Uzatei gritted his teeth, his mouth bleeding lightly, and the man snarled, "What do you know!? You know nothing, brats!"

Ichijou shrugged, "Brat? I'm old enough to be your grandfather, what do you know?" Scratching his chin, he noted, "Oh, I get it, you're just lashing back. Does it hurt, Uzatei? The truth tends too, or so I've heard. Go on, tell me how you're not really that bad a guy. Go on, I'm waiting."

Eye twitching, Uzatei opened his mouth, gaping like a fish.

Ichijou smirked, finishing, "You know what, I am going to vote, the same thing I would have voted five minutes ago, or ten minutes, or twenty. Even five years ago, or ten, or twenty, even seventy. Even though I'm afraid of it, even if it's closer to me than I thought, Death…fearing Death is no different from fearing Life. I mean, do I have kids? Grandkids? That's a scary thought, but that's Life, isn't it? …But if you want me to vote, than I don't care whether I'm seventeen or ninety, because I'm going to Live!"

Nagasaki nodded, "I've only known survival for the last decade… My parents, Hina, even every animal I've ever eaten live through me. I also want to Live…"

Furugori smiled, "Computers have come so far, huh? But there's gotta be more! I've just got to Live to see that!"

Wiping his forehead, Saruta gave a shaky laugh, "To think I would feel this way… For all of my Life I've wished to never see the next day, but right now I want to see the sun rise more than anything. I've come this far, haven't I?"

Minami swallowed, "My children and boyf- …husband may no longer be with me, but to do anything other than Live each day like it was my last… I am a Mizunoe! I would never consider death for even a second!"

Five sets of confident eyes locked onto the face of a star-struck Uzatei, before each of them pressed down on their screens, casting their final vote.

Looking between them, Uzatei snorted, "So, that's it then…you continue to refuse my logic? Very well then. Unfortunately, my vote is the only one that truly matters." As the once confident looks turned to those of horror, Uzatei turned behind him to Monokuma, shouting, "Monokuma! Killswitch: 13." Ichijou's heart sank as Monokuma gave a salute. Uzatei looked over his shoulder at Ichijou, a manic gleam in his eye. In the distance of the landscape around the Courtroom, there was an explosion, a hillside sending fire and debris into the hair. A wave of heat engulfed the Courtroom as force of the explosion reached it. In the distance, the ground began to shift and shake, the ground rumbling, cracking and splitting apart. The heat overcame Ichijou, and he found his legs weakening.

Then all was temperate.

The edge of the Courtroom's steel floor seemed to act as a shield as fire, stone, and lava struck against it, the outside raging like a maelstrom. Uzatei sat quietly, slumped back in his podium.

Minami said with worry, "Wh-what's this?"

Saruta muttered, "It's strangely...alluring. Perhaps intriguing would be a better word." Furugori was speechless, watching the cataclysm from the shelter, mystified at what his computer was capable of. Nagasaki seemed frightened, but one look at Ichijou's calm seemed to strengthen her nerves.

Uzatei gave a laugh, "Well done, Ichijou Mitsuzi. You've convinced me." With a grunt, he stood back up at his podium, looking around, saying, "As much as it pains me, I have no choice but to let you blights Live." With another laugh at himself, he muttered, "I suppose any Hopes I might have had that this would all have gone well were...despairingly displaced. I should have directed them at this outcome. Or not, perhaps this is the most Despair inducing outcome, after all. You have voted for Life, so perhaps you may Live, but I still choose Death. It is fitting I think, for me." The man sneered, "But I will welcome it: I am not afraid as you are, Ichijou Mitsuzi."

Turning to face the edge, the burning destruction outside, he grinned with anticipation, cackling, "Ah, yes...this is Despair, not like those Hopeful Third Generation mongrels, those fakers who wanted nothing more than to Live."

As the Fashion Designer awaited his fate, Ichijou muttered in pity, "You really are...a miserable wretch, aren't you?" Uzatei didn't respond, so obsessed in his own destruction as the Courtroom seemed to shrink, and edge of the circle folding around Monokuma's throne and the fraction of the Courtroom Uzatei stood in. In an instant, they, and several podiums and portraits were gone, sucked in by the destruction, no doubt destroyed, completely and utterly.

In silence, the remaining five looked at each other, not sure what was going to happen next. All they could hold on too were their Hopes that things could go right, despite the Despair, and that they could see their bright Futures.

And Live.

What Ichijou next knew was darkness.

It was a strange, calming darkness.

Was this death? Did he die after all?

If so, it didn't seem so bad.

No, he quickly realized: he could hear something, murmurs in the distance. He could smell dust, char. He was already seeing the insides of his eyelids, and the complete blackness meant it was not very bright beyond them. But he felt...heavy. Like the force of gravity had somehow increased.

His eyes fluttered open, his eyes wanting to droop, despite the long period he'd spent with them closed. He saw shapes moving at the edge of his vision through his hair. He heard them speak, tones frantic, worried.

With all his might, he lifted up his two arms, looking at his hands. The skin was wrinkled, the skin loose, sinking away from his thin muscles at points.

Of course, he realized, he was a ninety year old man. As he breathed, he could feel his whiskers tickling his lips. The hair over his eyes was gray, naturally faded.

Not content with lying there, he began to turn on what seemed to be a bed. He felt himself wearing a green medical gown, and he had a tube of some sort sticking out of his wrist. As he moved, his atrophied muscles cried out in agony.

He barely even flinched as a black haired woman came to his aid, her hair tied back into a ponytail, the woman insisting, "Be careful, Ichijou-san, please..." Her words still felt distant somehow...perhaps his hearing had gone somewhat?

Ichijou was about to heed her words, when someone at the next bed caught his eye. It was another woman, but she was clearly older. She also sported a ponytail, but her hair was almost white, tinted with a pale purple. She wore a purple coat over a white dress shirt, black tie, and long, black skirt. As she turned to him, her soft, blue eyes, meeting his tired brown ones, there was a moment of mutual recognition.

At first, Kirigiri Kasumi seemed hopeful, relieved, but some memory of shame made her turn away, breaking eye contact.

Feeling a renewed burst of vigor, Mitsuzi managed to stand, taking the step to reach Kasumi, wrapping the woman into as strong a hug as he could manage. He felt as the woman, whom he had thought to be dead, went limp from surprise, before returning the hug twofold, the younger, stronger woman possessing the strength he did not.

Still even as Ichijou's legs began to buckle under the weight of his age, and Kirigiri's under the weight of emotion, they still stood together, supporting each other, as they always had, and always would, as teacher and student.

Pushing his questions and concerns aside for a moment, he said to Kasumi, "I'm home."

"Welcome back."

CHAPTER 5 END

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