Summary: We're not done. You hear me? We're. Not. Done.
Trigger Warning: Somewhat graphic descriptions of torture. If you're like me and can't stand these sorts of things, skip to the first line break. I'll leave a summary in the ending notes.
It hurts. "Did you know, Makoto-kun, that you can divide the cornea of an eye into five layers?" Scalpel-esque fingertips scraped gently across the surface of his eye. He tried to close it, but there was an iron grip keeping his eyelids open, pinching the skin.
It hurts! "The epithelium layer, the Bowmans layer, stroma, Descemet's layer and the endothelium." With each layer mentioned, Monokuma tapped a single bladed finger against his rapidly darting eyeball before placing its index on his pupil. "Now…if I wanted to blind you, I'd just." The pressure intensified, and he struggled even harder. "Press." A little more pressure. It felt like the bear was trying to pop the fragile organ. "Harder." For a brief moment, his vision went white with agony. Still, Naegi refused to scream. A second stretched into eternity.
"But!" Abruptly, Monokuma withdrew its paw, giggling at whatever expression was currently on the Luckster's face. "That'd be a little too easy." Naegi tried to buck the bear off his chest, stopped only by the sudden backhanded slap that sent his head spinning. Turns out, their Principal was made of solid metal. Who would've thought. "So~" Fingers lowered towards his left eye once more.
"Let's have a little fun!" The bear laughed. "By us, of course, I mean me. Unless you're into this sort of kinky stuff. In which case, I'm flattered, but not interested in my students." The grip on his eyelids intensified. If he tried to close them, it was highly likely that they'd be lacerated in the process.
IT HURTS. "So…where was I? Ah, of course." Its index scratched a searing line of pain across his eye. "Five layers of the eye, et cetera…the epithelium actually ends up damaged pretty often by anything really. Dust, dirt, sand…or in this case, fingernails."
IT HURTS! "So as long as you stay very still…" Monokuma began to cut into the organ. "You won't lose your vision." Even knowing that, Naegi couldn't help the involuntary twitching of his eyelids, the body's hardwired reflex to shut it against the threat he was helpless to stop. Pain blossomed, and he clenched his fists, trying to use the pain of his still-broken hand to drown out the new sensations setting his nerves alight.
It couldn't have been any longer than a minute. But in that agony-filled haze, time meant nothing.
He breathed heavily, taking several deep gulps as Monokuma finally finished his torment, its smile stretching from ear to ear. This…this was definitely the face of the devil. Not some horned figure of fire and brimstone, but a mockery of a mascot, delighting in his suffering.
"Good job, Makoto-kun~" The paw, bladed tips glistening with unidentifiable fluids, patted his cheek almost soothingly. "You sure have a great pain tolerance. I'm almost sad it's over." Monokuma paused, bringing its fingers to its chin, adopting an expression of deep contemplation.
"But then again…" A single red eye gleamed with malicious glee. "I do have four other fingers here."
NO NO NO NO NO—
"Ganbatte, my precious student!" Monokuma leaned in, relishing the terror he couldn't suppress. "One down, four more to go!"
IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS PLEASE I'M SCARED I'M SCARED IT HURTS SOMEONE SAVE ME—
How long did he spend there on the floor, writhing in agony, illuminated by the dying light? Naegi couldn't tell. He had long since shut his left eye, curled into a ball and may or may not have passed out from the pain at some point. When he finally wrestled back control of his motor functions, night had turned to day, and he was lying down in a pool of sweat. His good hand was clapped over his covered organ, and the scent of smoke and ash clung heavily to his clothes.
Shuddering, Naegi clambered to his feet, barely avoiding falling flat on his face once more as the movement sent a bolt of lightning shrieking across his nervous system. Something was dripping down his cheek. He didn't dare check if it was blood, tears, or ocular fluid. Straightening as much as he could, the boy shuffled out of the scene of the crime, one step by shuffling step.
He must've looked like a walking corpse, the way he was limping through the corridors, a hand concealing half off his face. Sluggishly, he wondered if Fujisaki was looking for him. He had checked on the Programmer during their rest day, and they had seemed to be doing fine. A little sore, yes, but that was to be expected. The hallways were empty, but faint sounds of chatter led him in the direction of the dining room, walking with the sort of gait you'd expect from a drunkard.
More focused on putting one foot in front of the next, the only reason Naegi noticed that he had reached his destination was the sudden cacophony of noise. Hands grasped at his body, and it was only his fragile state of mind that prevented him from stabbing the first person who had grabbed him. Blearily, he tried to process the words being thrown around the room, but all he could hear was a low-pitched drone. Shaking his head slightly and drawing upon the fresh flare of pain, he attempted to focus.
"—Naegi! Naegi! What the fuck happened to you!" The Luckster winced, raising his free hand slightly to motion for whoever was talking to lower their volume. Looking up, he met eyes with Enoshima Junko, who was currently holding him like he was about to break apart in her hands. Turning slightly to check who else was supporting him, he felt a pang of shame at the way Fujisaki appeared two seconds from bursting into tears. The Programmer swallowed harshly, before adopting a determined look as they began to carefully escort him to a chair. His other classmates swarmed Naegi with questions and exclamations of horror, noise that pounded away at his brain like it was a bongo drum.
"Everyone!" Fujisaki raised their voice, a move that he wagered only worked because people were startled by the normally timid Programmer doing something completely out of character. "We can ask questions later! That's not exactly important right now, is it!?" General murmurs of agreement swept through the room, and Naegi managed to eke out a word of thanks before gratefully slumping down in the chair he had been deposited in.
"Does your condition have something to do with why you've been in the gymnasium so often?" Kirigiri placed a hand to her chin, coolly analysing the situation despite the flicker of worry in her eyes. "Tap once for yes, and twice for no, if speaking is difficult." He grunted, lowering his good hand from its place over his eye (and eliciting a fresh round of shouts) to knock on the table a single time.
"I see…" He could almost see the gears turning in her head. "You're not physically capable of doing this to yourself, and I see no reason as to why you would. Did someone try to kill you?" Two taps. "Foolish of me to ask, but I had to make sure. Did Monokuma do this to you?" One tap.
"That rotten bitch…" Enoshima's face twisted briefly with rage before something appeared to take the wind out of her sails. "Shit. Can't even kill that fucker if we wanted to."
"Hmm…now what did you do to challenge the bear?" Togami appeared to take great pleasure in examining Naegi's terrible state, like he was watching a particularly interesting comedy. "To be punished this harshly, you must have angered him."
"The current motive." Kirigiri snapped her fingers, and similar looks of realisation dawned on those present. "That's the reason, isn't it?"
"Well…" Naegi croaked out, managing a smile. "The bear wasn't exactly pleased when I used it to turn that pile of cash into a heap of ashes."
"Holy shit! You're one ballsy dude, aren't ya?!" Owada barked out a laugh, clapping the Luckster on the back with enough force that he must've blacked out momentarily. Why would he think that? Well, it was probably because one moment he had been trying to set Togami on fire with his gaze, and the next found him face-down on the table and the Biker Gang Leader was making a very quick getaway from a Fashionista on the warpath. He watched them, with some amusement, especially as Ishimaru chased after the two, shouting about not running in the hallways.
"...I see we have quite the high-roller among us." There was an undiscernable emotion in Celeste's eyes as she concealed her expression behind a hand. "But can I just ask…WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT!?" He couldn't help but chuckle at the sudden personality switch.
"Firstly…it was a giant pile of cash…" He shrugged, wincing. "Why wouldn't I burn it?"
"Taking advantage of the weakness of the latest motive to successfully win your fight before it could even begin." Ogami nodded approvingly. "You made use of what little you had to combat the Mastermind, and seized an opening as soon as you saw it. I do wish it didn't have to come at the expense of your health…" He was certain everyone present could see the irony in that statement. "But as I already know, your tenacity is terrifying."
The Gambler huffed. "Ten million dollars…and you would throw it away for what? A damaged eye?"
"You could…put it that way…" He sighed, ignoring the sensation of spikes being driven behind his eye as he opened it to glare at her. "But I suppose…I traded ten million dollars…for thirteen lives." He would not blink first, even as half his vision blurred and swam and watered with involuntary tears.
"Why—" Celeste growled, a startlingly feral noise. "—you're an imbecile." She turned away, storming off without another word. Naegi blinked, exchanging a baffled look with Fujisaki before returning his attention to the conversation.
"Be honest with me." He attempted a shaky grin. "How bad is it?"
Kirigiri leaned in closer, a gloved hand reaching for his face—
"Quit squirming! You're ruining the look!"
—and with his fight or flight response screaming hysterically in the back of his mind, Naegi kicked off from the table, sliding several meters backwards as his heart rate began to escalate. He shuddered, breathing heavily, before slowly pulling himself back together.
"Apologies." The normally emotionless teenager looked a tad bit uncomfortable. "I should've known."
"No, no, that's my bad." Naegi shook his head, trying to get his breathing back under control. "I didn't expect…that much backlash. Just let me— give me a moment. Please." Bad enough that he was seeing ghosts and struggling with his own waning sanity…now he had to deal with trauma. The silence that followed was uncomfortable, but the Luckster took his time, drawing comfort from the hand Fujisaki had placed on his back.
"I don't have any medical experience…" Ogami was leaning down to make up for the fact that she was probably a good thirty centimeters taller than him, and that was while he was standing. "But your wounds look superficial. Not to downplay your pain, of course, but some days of bedrest and careful care should help to get you past the worst of it."
"Hmm. It does seem like Monokuma was aiming to hurt rather than maim. Eye injuries tend to be either crippling or minor. You should regain function of it eventually." A somewhat complicated look crossed Kirigiri's face. "However…it's likely that you're facing a permanent decrease in your overall vision afterwards. The infirmary's still locked, so the only sort of medical treatment we can utilize is restricted to what people might have in their rooms."
Naegi laughed, despite the grim situation. "The bear did say…that nothing too bad would happen…if I stayed still. I'm not going to be grateful about it though. Fuckin' bastard dragged it out to try and make me scream."
Went unsaid, but incredibly loud in the silence, judging by the way Fujisaki's grip on his shoulder tightened, was the fact that Monokuma had given up before the Luckster had broken.
After some time spent placating his concerned classmates (apart from Togami, who had "grown tired of meaningless talk" and walked off), the Luckster had slowly made his way back to his room, accompanied by the Ultimate Programmer and later, looking slightly ruffled, the Fashionista as well. He trusted the latter as far as he could throw her in this state (that is, almost not at all), but out of respect for her previous kindness and to keep the illusion of normality, he kept his silence. It was a lot easier to pass it off as fatigue…especially since it wasn't entirely a lie.
Excusing himself with a half-hearted excuse about privacy, the Luckster opened his first-aid kit, snatching an unopened bottle of water from his collection and used the wall to very slowly stumble into the bathroom. He'd need a mirror for this. Even if he didn't want to look at the damage.
Tilting his head to one side, he examined his eye. Yeesh. No wonder everyone had been so startled by it. Dried blood had traced a path down his cheek, and a few moments of vigorous rubbing with a little bit of water had it flaking off. Very carefully, he touched his eyelids, ignoring the nausea that was burning at the back of his throat. Shutting his eye demonstrated the extent of the damage to them while Monokuma had held him down; there was a patchwork of weeping cuts from each twitch and struggle, while the area around his eye was beginning to swell. Surprisingly, his injuries were mostly restricted to it. The bear had been quite precise. And of course, for the main course…
His eye. Fine lines were carved into it, and as he looked closer, they began to take on a familiar shape. Five distinct, burning injuries, forming…forming…he gagged, falling to the floor. Dragging himself across to the toilet, he threw up, spending several unpleasant minutes retching, long after what little he still had in his stomach finished emptying itself and was replaced by acrid bile.
Quivering, the boy flushed away the contents of his stomach, returning to the sink to wash out his mouth, before attending to his eye. Ignoring the unpleasant sensation of knowing you had been branded by a sadistic mascot, he carefully rinsed his eye with bottled water. It stung like hell, but it was better than getting an infection. Dabbing carefully at the wound with a cotten wad, he selected a medical eyepatch and some bandages. Closing his eye, he pressed a fresh gauze patch against it, affixing it in place with a little bit of tape before putting on the eyepatch. Inspecting himself in the mirror once more, he took in the bags underneath his eyes, the bruise blossoming along the side of his face, and sighed heavily.
Hopefully he'd get enough time to rest before the next problem came knocking at his door.
Summary for those who may have skipped the beginning: Monokuma tortures Naegi for torching the money, using his claws to cut up his left eye and branding him with a rather familiar symbol…