A/N:

Fire Hero: For spoiler reasons, I won't go into much detail, but she will be aware of the events on that island. Given that it involves people very dear to her, it can't just be brushed over, even if Izuru's reasons for instigating the killing game are nowhere near as bad as the other masterminds'.

There was a window in their living room, looking out at the backyard of the house. Though there were several cherry blossom trees visible, they were sad things, twisted and black. There would be no blooming season this year, a fact that had saddened Chiaki greatly when she realized it. The pink flowers had always been a sign of beauty and cheer, and their absence was just another reminder of the world's state. The pansies they'd planted had just started to bud, and the color was appreciated, but it wasn't really the same.

"Have you noticed any abnormal side-effects from your medication?"

Breaking out of her musings, Chiaki turned her gaze away from the view outside back to Kamukura-kun. He was looking at her expectantly, and she tried to remember what he'd just asked. Something about her medicine having side-effects? Right, that was it. She hummed in affirmation. "Not at first, but lately I've been getting a lot of stomachaches."

Her mental therapy sessions had gradually been reduced to once a week rather than every day. Chiaki didn't doubt that this was partially due to Kamukura-kun's analytical skills; the counseling sessions were mostly just progress reports on how her mental state was, not a search for any abnormal behavior. He wouldn't need to ask her to spot them himself.

He nodded once, short and precise. "I will adjust the formula, then. Have your nightmares increased or decreased in frequency or vividness?"

She frowned. "They're still pretty common…every other night, I'd say? And pretty realistic. Like, 16k resolution-realistic." The sad thing was she considered herself lucky; she only had one awful nightmare a night. Kamukura-kun had told her that some PTSD patients had multiple a night, so they'd wake from one and then fall right back into another. Chiaki would take one long nightmare over several smaller ones any time.

"The content is still the same?"

"Yeah. Most of the time I'm back in the maze, reliving everything. Sometimes Hinata-kun or my classmates will chase me through it." She rubbed her arms, trying hard to not think about their red eyes or the wounds on Hinata-kun's head. "Other times Yukizome-sensei is pushing me in the elevator, or Enoshima is taunting me. The dungeon is the most common, though."

"When Hinata and your friends show up, are they still saying the same things? 'You should have died' or 'you let us down'? Other sentences in that category?"

"Not anymore. Now they're just silent." She glanced at him. "That's a good thing, right?"

"It is an indication that subconsciously, you are starting to let go of the self-blame. So yes."

Chiaki was quiet. It didn't feel like she had begun to absolve herself. Every time she thought of her friends, the surge of guilt still hit her strong. Not only for her role in their brainwashing, but for not being able to do anything to help them now. If she thought on it too long the depression would start to creep back, whispering useless, useless over and over.

She hugged her knees to her chest, reaching down to play with her socks. "When…will the Neo World Program be ready?" Kamukura-kun had kept her a bit updated on it; with his anonymous funding the faculty on Jabberwock Island, wherever that was, had been built. Production on the program itself had finally resumed.

"By my calculations, it will take at least another year for it to reach a beta stage. Of its three developers, two are indisposed of; Matsuda Yasuke is dead and Fujisaki Chihiro is locked inside Hope's Peak Academy. Gekkogahara Miaya has been attempting to continue its development without them, but she only has their notes as reference points, and her other duties to the Future Foundation keep her busy."

The Future Foundation… Chiaki wasn't quite certain how to feel about that group. On the one hand, she was glad there was an organization trying to restore order and peace to the world. On the other, she was leery of them. According to Kamukura-kun the leader, Tengan Kazuo, was once headmaster of Hope's Peak, and after learning what she had of the academy's corruption…well, she just wasn't certain she could trust any authority figures from there anymore.

"Do not dwell on it." Kamukura-kun was rising from the chair opposite, so he must have decided the therapy session was done. "There is no point in musing on things you cannot change."

"I know. I just can't help worrying about them, the longer they're out and brainwashed." She watched him glide across the room. "Where are you going?"

"To begin modifying your medication."

"Oh, can I watch? I've never seen medicine be made before."

His indifferent silence told her she could do whatever she wanted. So Chiaki pushed herself up, and with cane in hand followed him up the stairs. She made it halfway before having to stop, and he turned and picked her up before resuming.

He set her down outside his door. She looked around curiously as he opened it; she'd never actually been in Kamukura-kun's room before. It was much larger than hers; against one wall was a table with a chemistry set, a freezer, and a cabinet, probably for creating her various medicines. The opposite one held a desk with his laptop and computer equipment, for hacking and security, she wagered. The bed was impeccably made, the closet held only rows of identical black suits, and everything was very proper and clean—and empty. Everything in it was only there for a practical purpose. It felt more like an office he happened to sleep in than a bedroom, a place to work, not to live. The only hint of a personal touch was the birthday card she'd made him, looking very out of place on his dresser—she beamed when she saw it still there. "You kept that?"

"There was no logical reason to discard it."

"But there wasn't a logical reason to keep it, either."

He did not respond, and she stepped forward and embraced him, closing her eyes to better relish his warmth and the smell of detergent on his clothes. A lot of otome games would talk about how musky a guy's scent was, but she'd never noticed that with Kamukura-kun. He just smelled clean. "Thank you for keeping it."

Hugging him had become something she was very fond of, and each time she was always a bit more reluctant to let go. He was just so solid and warm and—and cozy. Definitely an odd image for the stoic and apathetic man, especially since he hadn't returned her hugs since the first one, but it was just what she thought of him.

"Why do you do that?" he asked suddenly. Chiaki tilted her head back and peered up at him, puzzled.

"Do what?"

"Hug me. You have your pet for physical comfort. So why do you continue carrying out this action?"

Disappointment and hurt swelled in her. Chiaki knew she was weirdly touchy, with little sense of personal boundaries. It was just hard to read what was socially inappropriate and what wasn't, so she usually didn't try. If people had problems, they'd tell her, and she'd try to account for it. Her friends had never said anything about minding, and Kamukura-kun hadn't either, so she'd just assumed... She released him and stepped back, face red. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know you didn't like it."

"I did not say I was averse to it. I just do not understand why you continue to seek physical contact with me when you are not in distress and when, even if you were, you have other avenues available."

"Why? I just…there's no rational reason, I guess. I just like it." She played with her fingers, hoping he wouldn't ask why, because she wasn't certain she could answer.

Fortunately, he did not. Her answer instantly silenced him, and from the focused look in his eyes she knew she wouldn't be able to pull him out of his thoughts for…however long it took him to sort through them this time.

She cleared her throat, feeling unusually warm. "Well. I'll just, um…watch you work, then." She went to sit on his bed and thought better of it—there was something overly familiar about that. So she pulled over a chair and sat beside the strange table full of medical equipment.

And despite the lingering awkwardness, she was able to pass a pleasant afternoon in that manner.

"You are distracted," he stated, and Chiaki almost tripped down the stairs. An arm reached out and wrapped around her waist, yanking her back up against him. Heart racing from her close shave, she tried to think of how to respond.

How was she supposed to say it was because of him? Or rather, her failure in any progress related to her goal for him? March had just started, and she hadn't even made his lips twitch. And that was ignoring how it was almost a year since she'd been living with him. That long with not even one expression of happiness. She'd known getting him to smile wasn't exactly going to be an easy task, but it was disheartening to set a goal and not make any progress on it. Even she had moments where she was tired and doubted, and he'd just happened to catch her in one.

I just want him to be happy…why can't I do that one simple thing?

"Sorry," she sighed instead. He wordlessly released her, and she slowly took the last two steps down, legs shaking even with the cane's support. And that was that, task complete. Chiaki supposed she should be elated to be able to walk up and down the stairs again, albeit at a snail's pace and, as always, with aid. But her churning thoughts, the swell of disappointment in herself and self-doubt, tempered any joy she might have felt. It didn't help she was still frustrated with her body's limitations.

"Why?" he asked, stepping nimbly around her as he descended the stairs as well.

Huh? Oh, why was she distracted. He would see through a lie, so she offered a half-truth instead. "I was just…being a downer. Sometimes it doesn't feel like I'm making any progress on this at all."

"You are. I estimate a few more months of physical therapy will remove your reliance on the cane; however, with modifications to your dwelling, you should be capable of living independently sooner than that."

A funny feeling was born in her stomach as she listened to him, uncomfortable and twisting. "Oh."

In a few more months, I…can live independently again. That…should make me happy, right? I don't like feeling like a burden. But…if I can live on my own…he won't need to stay anymore, will he?

She'd never really thought about what Kamukura-kun would do once he didn't have to look after her anymore. She'd just assumed he'd stay with her. But what if he got bored, or wanted to do something else? She still wasn't entirely sure what the "one other thing" he wanted was. What if they reached a point where his personal quest took him in a direction away from hers?

"I'm being silly," she sighed later to Yumigami, whose response was to nuzzle her hand. Chiaki scratched her ears, letting the therapeutic action soothe her churning stomach. In the privacy of her room, she was free to confess to the rabbit on her lap.

"First for fretting so much about not making him happy, then for this. I mean, if Kamukura-kun wants to leave when I'm recovered, of course it's his right to."

What was she even scared of? He hadn't even given any indication he would leave. And even if he did, that wouldn't mean they'd stop being friends. They could still stay in contact with phones or email, those still worked.

She just…she did not want him to leave her. She liked how things were. She liked seeing his face early in the morning and giving him hugs and setting the table while he made breakfast. She liked talking to him and playing games with him and even trying to decipher his inscrutable expressions. The thought of his absence left her feeling raw and hollow, and now it was forcing her to confront a question she did not know the answer to:

What happens after?

She'd thought about what she'd do after school, of course. Before everything went wrong she had been looking at gaming companies to join, as a beta tester or designer or something. With Hope's Peak's credentials, she could have gotten a job anywhere she wanted. But now the world was just so different…was there even a place for a gamer like her in it anymore?

"I just don't know what the future holds," she confessed in a small voice. "And I'm kind of scared of facing it without Kamukura-kun." It felt like she could have done anything, if he were with her. She'd been counting on him being with her. Wanting it.

She couldn't even make him smile and she had the nerve to want him to stay. How selfish of her. How foolishly selfish.

As if sensing her owner was about to be swallowed up in depression and self-loathing again, Yumigami not-so-gently bit her pointer finger. Chiaki yelped and yanked her hand back, automatically lifting the digit to suck on the injury. She gave the rabbit a stern glare. "There are less painful ways to tell me to stop worrying, y'know." The gamer sighed. "But I probably needed that. Thanks."

Yumigami settled down, and Chiaki tentatively resumed petting her. "What would you say if you could talk, I wonder? Would you mirror my motto back at me? 'If you just do it, things will turn out okay'?"

She wasn't certain it was 100% true anymore—she'd tried to rescue Yukizome-sensei and escape the maze, and neither had worked out. Though…the fact she was still alive could be testimony to the truth in that phrase. There was still time for things to be fixed, wasn't there?

Liquid brown eyes blinked up at her. It's okay to get discouraged. It's okay to be upset. Take the bad as it comes, then keep going anyway, they seemed to say.

The pink-haired girl smiled tentatively. "…Right. Okay. I'll try not to worry about that anymore." She picked the rabbit up and snuggled her against her chest. "Even though you can't really talk…thanks."

Chiaki had grown complacent.

It was easy to forget the state of the world, cozied up in her home with Kamukura-kun. She didn't like watching the news unless it involved her classmates, and she didn't really go into town anymore, so she was rather sheltered about current events. She did go outdoors, but the red sky had gradually become familiar, until she barely noticed it anymore. It was almost as though they existed in their own little bubble, far away from everyone else.

But though they ignored the world, the world did not ignore them, and she was reminded of its realities late one night in early March.

They'd decided that evening they would watch an anime together—or rather, she'd suggested it and he'd agreed with his usual disinterest—and had been surfing the channels for a suitable one. The Ultimate Despairs had control over the TV networks; they allowed little to play besides the news and Enoshima's propaganda, but made an exception for the most depressing of media. There wasn't a lot of room to be picky, but Chiaki knew she didn't want anything gory, and had already flipped past Berserk, Elfen Lied, and Grave of the Fireflies before deciding on Air. She was trying to focus on the meeting between Yukito and Misuzu, not how Kamukura-kun's leg was brushing hers, when the screen suddenly crawled with noise.

Chiaki frowned. "…Did our receiver break or something, Kamukura-kun?"

He'd already moved to check it. "No."

Just as he returned to the couch, the static cleared up, showing a classroom. Dominating it was a rocket, with a struggling man strapped to a chair inside. Chiaki leaned forward, squinting. "…Is that…Kirigiri-gakuenchou?" She couldn't be certain since a blindfold was covering most of his upper face, but it certainly looked like the principal.

Kamukura-kun experimentally changed the channel, but no matter how far he went, the image stayed. "A forced network-wide broadcast," he concluded. "It seems Enoshima has begun her next plan." Chiaki glanced at him, and a shiver ran up her spine; the Ultimate Hope's eyes were keen with something akin to anticipation.

"Upupupupupu…"

She turned back to the screen as a small black-and-white bear jumped into view, stepping disdainfully on Kirigiri-gakuenchou's legs as it approached the camera. It looked like a stuffed animal, yet its face was oddly expressive; it was smiling broadly as it waved.

"Hellooooooooo all you bastards! It's me, Monokuma! The adorable mascot and spokesperson for the mastermind of this whole tragic state of affairs! Did you miss me?"

She blinked. A talking bear wasn't as odd as some of the other things Chiaki had seen in her games, or even in the real world. But the overly friendly attitude, the strangeness of the entire situation, left her speechless.

Monokuma giggled, as if it—he?—had actually listened to a reply. "Of course you did! I'm so loveable, after all." His face suddenly fell, and he kicked at a stray bit of trash. "Which is why everything I've heard hurts so much. Because I have heard quite some hurtful things. 'Whoever orchestrated all this has kind of fallen off the radar'. 'Do you think they're dead'. 'Maybe we can finally recover'."

He blew a raspberry. "Boo, I say! I haven't stopped my work at all! I've just been biding my time, building up for a grand event! The magnum opus of my existence! The death blow to hope! And finally, after a year of planning and waiting, my masterpiece is finally ready to be presented!"

A rumble was building up from beneath the rocket, increasing in pitch. The principal began screaming incoherently, the words lost in the noise, and flailed furiously against his bonds. The bear sat down across from him, in front of a large red button, and gestured with a stubby arm.

"But before we get started, let me tell you something about this man." Monokuma pointed a claw at Kirigiri-gakuenchou dramatically. "This man, the leader of Hope's Peak Academy, has committed numerous crimes against humanity! Covering up murders, expelling innocent students, allowing human experimentation, he's done it all! It's a despairingly awful truth, but it must be known! This man is a criminal! And what do we do to criminals, my lovely viewers?"

Monokuma pulled out a gavel and spun it around, slamming it down onto the button with gusto.

"We execute them! IT'S PUNISHMENT TIME!"

Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead, and Chiaki trembled as the words from long ago came back to haunt her. The camera zoomed in for one last look at the principal's face before the doors slammed shut around him. The gamer's ears rang as the rocket roared to life, fire flaring up around the bottom. It lifted slowly, an unstoppable machine drilling through the roof, causing the room to shake…

"Oh, but don't think that was my piece de resistance," the bear continued as the rocket disappeared from view, "No no no. You see, I think the world had forgotten something: no one is innocent. Anyone can fall into despair. And who better to showcase that than the last remaining students of Hope's Peak? The kids you all call your hope for the future? The kids you thought were safe? The kids you thought you could hide from me?"

He laughed again. "Upupupupu…despair will always find hope! It will always seek out those little bits of light so it can smother them!" The camera enlarged his single red eye, until it was filling the screen, glowing menacingly. "And I'm going to remind you all just how powerful despair is."

There was an explosion of sound as the rocket crashed back down. The camera panned back to show the wreckage. It had buried itself nose-first in the floor; smoke was billowing out from the point of impact, and various parts were falling off. With a loud groan, the metal doors cracked open, and out tumbled the remains of Kirigiri Jin, former principal of Hope's Peak Academy.

Chiaki stared and stared in horror as Monokuma gleefully exclaimed, "The Second Mutual Killing Game of Hope's Peak Academy has now begun! Be sure to tune in tomorrow morning, folks, you do not want to miss what these kids are going to do to each other…"

A/N: Enjoyed the fluff of last chapter? Good! Because we have now caught up to the timeline of the series proper. Time to bring back despair.

I figured Jin's execution would be the ideal point for Junko to start her broadcast. And if she's broadcasting it, she'd probably want to narrate what's happening and what's going to happen, just to drive the despair in further. So even though Monokuma doesn't talk during the execution, I added it in as some "behind the scenes" stuff only people watching the broadcast saw.

Also, Junko had to have people in charge of television networks, otherwise the Future Foundation would have been able to stop her killing game from being broadcast.