Summary: Bo-ring~
Thankfully, Monokuma had wandered off after sulking for a bit, rather than provoke any of the three into doing something "entertaining". Unfortunately, as one last parting shot, it had thrown one of the bottles at Naegi's head, where it promptly shattered against his skull. Which indicated the terrible quality of the bottle in the first place, but he didn't have enough time to point that out before he was slung over Enoshima's shoulders in a fireman's carry.
Kirigiri was remarkably quick at calming the frantic Fashionista down before she started running from the infirmary, which he was quite grateful for. But now he was kneeling on the floor while they were picking glass shards out of his hair and arguing over something he had promptly tuned out before it got him into trouble, and he was starting to reconsider the practicality of pretending to be injured so he wouldn't have to deal with the troublesome situation he had now found himself in. Although with his track record, it was more likely that he'd actually get injured somewhere along the way to the first floor, and then he'd be stuck in the same room as someone who had murdered a classmate for money and tore half his face off with her fingernails. Didn't mean he couldn't be a little annoyed about it though.
"Surprisingly, there aren't many lacerations despite that alarmingly explosive impact." Kirigiri noted dryly, having taken primary responsibility for glass removal due to her gloves. Not that the Fashionista wasn't hovering over him like a worried parent. He was rather impressed by the sort of ideas she was currently muttering under her breath though. Although inflicting that on a human body was a little bit concerning. Just a little. He mentally filed away the increasingly creative plans for a later date. You never know when you might need a legitimate way to rip someone in half with minimal equipment. Or a robot. Even if Monokuma was more likely to blow up in his face if he tried that on the bear.
"You make it sound like he should be more injured." Enoshima shot back, gently (but forcefully) pushing Naegi back onto the ground as Kirigiri flicked shards of the bottle into a neat pile. "Look at him, he's half-dead already!"
The enigmatic Ultimate huffed, amusement curling in her tone as she replied. "Realistically speaking, Naegi's a lot more well-off than he should be, considering all the things he's managed to get himself into. Isn't that right?" She tapped on his head, tilting it slightly to pull out a particularly large fragment.
"...I'm offended, but I don't have a way to refute that statement." He wasn't that bad, was he? The Luckster mentally counted off the number of fights and conflicts he had instigated or accidentally gotten himself into since the start of the Killing Game, then stopped counting when it became depressingly clear that she was right. "Great. I'm a delinquent now."
"Heh. Welcome to the club." Enoshima snarked as she began to transfer the trash to the bin nearby. "Side note, anyone know if the key to the incinerator was on Yamada's body when he got vapourised? It's been used twice in two cases to get rid of evidence, but it's also our only way of preventing rubbish from accumulating."
"Uncertain." The other girl murmured, brushing through Naegi's hair to make sure she got all of the glass. "I suppose Ishimaru would know, either way. He was the one who wanted that duty in the first place."
Thanking both of them, the Luckster stood up, stretching slightly and releasing a low groan at the way the movements tugged at his aching…everywhere, really. "I don't think Monokuma would take it well if its beloved Killing Game started looking like a trash heap." He paused, shifting awkwardly before asking a question that immediately brought down the relatively light mood of the room. "When do you think it'll end?"
Silence fell after his query, and he grimaced. It was a valid concern, and something all of them would have to address eventually. Taking a seat on the table, he crossed his legs, waiting patiently for his classmates to gather their thoughts. Kirigiri mechanically dusted off her gloves, returning to her original seat. Enoshima promptly collapsed into the other one. Yeesh. Talk about awkward.
"...logically speaking, there are two possible scenarios in play right now." The unknown Ultimate lifted two fingers, a hint of a frown on her face. "One. At some point, someone will succeed in getting away with a murder. All of us are executed and they get to leave with whatever prize Monokuma promised them at that point." She trailed off after that, placing her hands in her lap.
"Fine, I'll bite. What's the second one, and how is it somehow worse than the first?" The Fashionista appeared nonchalant, but was betrayed by the way her fingers tapped away at the armrest. Kirigiri shook her head, before continuing.
"The killings continue. Eventually, our class will be whittled down to a small enough number that getting away with a murder becomes impossible. Four or five, most likely. I cannot guess what might happen after that."
"Probably just kill us to end the game." Naegi suggested. If there was no fun to be had, there was no point left in orchestrating this elaborate scheme. "Or if we're being optimistic, let us live the rest of our days in the school, reeling from the trauma of death and betrayal."
"You don't think he'll let us go?" Enoshima made a face as she asked her question. "Nevermind, that was stupid. No way in hell we're getting out of here unless whoever's in charge bites the dust." The Luckster hummed his agreement. And that was the crux of the issue. No matter what happened from here on, if they didn't figure out how to defeat the Mastermind, they'd just keep losing people. Eventually, there wouldn't be enough teenagers to disguise any sneaking around into hidden rooms and talking to AIs. Eventually, people would get desperate. Eventually…eventually the three members of class 78 sitting here might be reduced to two. Then one. Then none.
"What can we do about it?" He asked, hands curling into fists. "We have no clues to their identity. No ideas for their reasoning. All we have to work on is the theory that something terrible happened to get us in here, and now this safe haven is poisoned as well."
"Define terrible."
He exchanged a look with Kirigiri, then continued. "Kirigiri-san and I have a theory that there's been…well, a time skip of sorts. Since she's lost her memories of her Talent. That photo from earlier. Monokuma's not-so-subtle hints. There's a reason we ended up in here. And whatever that reason is, it has something to do with an event known only as The Tragedy."
"Ominous…" Enoshima shivered. "Well unless I hit my head hard enough to lose three years' worth of memories, I sure as hell don't remember a Tragedy going on. But it also doesn't make sense for a school that was up and running when we got here to be suddenly fortified like a bunker. It'd take forever just to replace the front door with that weird-ass vault."
"Yup." He nodded. "I've got my own thoughts on the situation, but it's pretty clear that we're missing a good chunk of the puzzle. And since we don't have access to the internet or any sources of information—" except for Alter Ego, which he needed to check on at some point, "—we're running around in the dark right now. It's more likely we're gonna trip over ourselves than find an exit."
The conversation trailed off after that, leaving the trio in a silence once more as they mulled over their predicament. Well, that was what he was doing at least. He didn't have an ego that was nearly big enough to confidently pretend he knew what was going on within their minds.
"Fukawa Toko…" Kirigiri abruptly broke the silence with a familiar name. "There's a chance she might know something."
"Eh? What about her?"
"...she's got a point." Naegi tapped a bandaged finger against his chin, brushing over an injury. "I can't claim to know how split personalities work. But what are the chances that whoever did this to us managed to purge two sets of memories?"
"Right…the other half of her mind might still contain knowledge about what's going on." Enoshima scrambled to her feet, turning towards the doorway. "So what're we waiting for!?"
Kirigiri held up a hand, not bothering to move. "Firstly, we have to think about what we want to ask her." She inclined her head. "After all, Monokuma may simply make a new rule to prevent her from incriminating him. It's best we stick to context on the outside world to keep that opportunity open."
"More importantly," Naegi began awkwardly, "there's a good chance her other personality's gonna stick a pair of scissors in us if we aren't prepared."
"Scissors? Why scissors?"
"I'm interested in hearing your reasoning as well, Naegi."
He averted his eyes. "I may or may not have discovered the whole split personality thing a day or two before our secrets were revealed. She may or may not have tried to stab me."
"What!?" / "What?"
He shrank further into himself. "It's fine! I only got a little scratched up."
"...because she wasn't trying to kill you?" Enoshima squinted at him suspiciously and he folded immediately.
"Cause I put a knife to her throat. And then knocked her out when she tried to break my wrist."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Naegi." Kirigiri was very unamused. "But this happened after your little altercation with Ogami."
"...yep."
"So what you're saying now, you idiot…" Enoshima continued, cracking the knuckles of one hand as she growled. "Is that shortly after you nearly got squished by a titan…you went and got yourself into another situation where you could've died. And didn't tell anyone!?" His silence was more of an answer than if he had said anything else.
"Sometimes I wonder how much misfortune you encountered before Hope's Peak that enabled your streak of good luck." Kirigiri pinched the bridge of her nose, looking like she was suppressing a migraine. "It's statistically impossible for someone to run into this many life-threatening scenarios consecutively."
"It happens." He shrugged, not really seeing the point. It may have been odd to them, but to the Luckster, it was just another Tuesday. People always tried to kill him on Tuesdays for some reason. "Plus…I think I know who her other personality is. Or at least have a pretty decent guess."
The Fashionista very slowly gestured for him to carry on, even as her eyes promised retribution for keeping this from her. He wasn't quite sure why she was mad about it. Even if she wasn't currently lying to his face about at least two things, he hoarded his secrets like a dragon guarding its lair. And it wasn't exactly something major. No one was (seriously) hurt by the end of it— her grip on his shoulder tightened, and he abruptly realigned his thoughts. Right. Priorities.
"There's a not insignificant chance that Fukawa-san's alternate personality is a serial killer." He waited. Huh, you really can hear a pin drop in the silence.
"She's a what!? Naegi you fool—" Enoshima grabbed him on either side of the face (nice of her to be gentle with the wounded half) before shaking him back and forth like she was using a magic eight ball. "—was it not enough to pick a fight with someone who has never been beaten in unarmed combat!? Did you think, 'hey, I've got a fun idea, let's fistfight someone with multiple homicides under her belt' and go ahead with that plan!?" So this was what a bobblehead felt like. He had a new respect for those toys. "Oi! Say something that won't make me think you're carrying out a death wish!?"
He raised a finger, causing her to pause for a brief moment before he smirked. "Yeah I've got nothing." Straight back to the shaking. This was oddly soothing.
"Scissors. Serial killer." Kirigiri was doing the right thing and completely ignoring whatever the hell was going on between the Fashionista and the Luckster. "There's only one person who fits that MO." She blinked, before looking exasperated. "You picked a fight with Genocider Syo, who has over thirty confirmed kills." There was resignation in that statement. He snickered, even as Enoshima sped up her shaking to washing machine levels. At least this wasn't hurting his eye.
"It was thirty-seven, I believe. There was a compilation of all cases related to her in the library. Considering it was out and about rather than on a shelf, there's a good chance Togami-san also knows about it."
"Yeah that sounds like him." / "Not surprising."
Glad they all were in agreement that Togami was annoying.
"But yeah." It was hard to appear dignified when you were being treated like a ragdoll. "We need to figure out how to deal with the consequences of unleashing a very dangerous serial killer on the rest of the class."
Omake: When Worlds Collide [7]
"Naegi" sat back in a chair he had commandeered, knife still in hand. Junko had returned to her own, resisting the urge to kick her legs in anticipation. The scene looked like something out of the climax of an action film, the two key individuals locked in a battle of wits, good versus evil, Hope versus Despair—
He held up his punctured hand, removing the blade with a quick tug before stabbing it into the table to catch her attention. "I can feel you monologuing. Stop that." His eye had stopped swirling. Fascinating.
"But Makoto~" She whined, taking on a cutesy tone and deliberately widening her eyes… "I'm the fuckin' protagonist! I can do whatever the hell I want!" Junko grinned when the sudden change in tone didn't even garner a twitch. "Naegi" lifted a leg to rest his foot on the table, and the small, analytical part of her brain noted the steel glint to its lining, along with the outline of a military knife strapped to his inner thigh, concealed beneath ragged jeans. He tilted his head, heterochromatic gaze looking decidedly unamused.
"Well then, if you insist." Junko adjusted her glasses. "It's highly likely that you came from a future where my plan to drown the world in Despair succeeded. And in the most boring time travel plot possible, you came back to kill me before I could do anything. Correct?"
"Well—" The Luckster pulled out his own spectacles, pushing them up the bridge of his nose. "—now that would be too easy, would it? It would erase the meaning of my memories, and give you the satisfaction of dying with the knowledge that you won, in the end."
"Hmm~" She leaned back in her chair, conceding the point with glee. "So what's your plan then? Drown me in Hope? Cripple my ability to carry out my plan?" She slumped, muttering sadly, "A lobotomy would be so Despairful."
His gaze pierced her very essence, and the thrill it sent through her was nearly orgasmic. "Nah. I've got my own standards, as limited as those might be." He flicked some blood her way. "So let's play a game, just you and me. And maybe Mukuro, I guess. Still haven't figured out if I want to fuck her or fuck her up."
"How crude! How bold!" Junko laughed. It was like looking into a mirror. "Very well then."
They clasped hands, and she shuddered with bliss at the sensation of his life essence pooling in her palm.
"Let's play." / "Let's play."