Summary: In which Naegi continues to reluctantly socialise.
Sometimes, Naegi Makoto pondered the series of events that had gotten him to this very moment, where he was walking through a school with a metaphorical collar around his neck and a talking robot bear waddling beside him. He glanced down at Monokuma, forcing his hands to stop trembling as it sauntered along, oblivious to the three students trying to set it on fire with the force of their gazes. Shaking his head slightly, he released a long-suffering breath. Play the game. That's all they could do, until a better alternative turned up. His eye burned, an inconvenient reminder of the futility of fighting back. But that wasn't an excuse not to try now, was it?
"Not sure who'd put an art room next to a lab, but it's not like any of us are gonna use this place now, are we?" Enoshima was practically brushing shoulders with him at this point, gaze occasionally flickering in the Principal's general direction. It was pretty obvious, even as she tried to keep it subtle, considering the way her eyes narrowed with an undiscernable emotion dancing in their shadows. The bear seemed to know it as well, considering the way it hadn't stopped grinning since the start. But maybe that was because it was enjoying the way tension blanketed the small group. Bastard.
"This was a school at some point, even if it has been repurposed for…other means." Kirigiri replied, coolly inspecting the surprising variety of sculptures placed on pedestals around the room. Idly, he poked at the statue of Monokuma, noting with some disgruntlement that it was a surprisingly accurate replica of their primary tormentor. Perhaps reading his thoughts, the bear in question struck the same pose next to it, still as a, well, statue.
"How do I look? Pretty cool, right?" Monokuma transitioned into a series of poses that wouldn't look out of place in a body-building contest…if the bear even had any muscles to speak of. Internally, he shuddered at the mental image of a muscular Monokuma, exchanging looks of disgust with the duo currently sharing his suffering. Naegi made a note to demonstrate his appreciation later. They could've just escaped this increasingly agonising situation instead of sticking around, after all.
"...let's just carry on." He ignored the way Monokuma deflated, not quite in the mood to deal with its nonsense right now. Hurriedly walking towards the door at the back of the room, he twisted the handle and entered, the other two teenagers bringing up the rear. Before he could even consider the choice, Enoshima kicked the door shut without looking at it, nonchalantly locking the door afterwards. They stared at the knob as it jiggled, listening to Monokuma's muffled complaints before wordlessly deciding to carry on.
"Hammers." Among othr tools, of course. The amount of stuff for carpentry and painting was as expected. Snatching up one of the medium-sized mallets, he flipped it over in his hand, giving a few test swings to adjust for the weight distribution. "These are genuine."
"Yeah, maybe put that down and explain it to us with your words, egg-boy." Enoshima shot him a look of dry amusement. Sheepishly, he hung up the mallet, brushing off the layer of dust that had collected on his hand as a result.
"You've ever held something made of bad wood and compared it to good wood?" There was a euphemism in here somewhere he didn't care to think about. "Let me rephrase that. Certain types of wood are…denser, than others, in a sense."
"Hmm. Like the difference between a broomstick and a bo staff?" Kirigiri chimed in, and he inclined his head in agreement.
"Yep. Holding a wooden object can sometimes tell you the quality of it. In this case—" he gestured to the hammers, "—these are weapons that could injure with a good swing."
"Tch. More ways for people to kill each other over useless things, huh." The Fashionista folded her arms, irritation abundantly clear on her face. "I'm already starting to miss the days where we only had to worry about a set of kitchen knives, your bat and crystal balls." He muffled a snicker. That was terrible and he shouldn't laugh at it, but something about cracking morbid jokes despite the situation soothed his strained nerves.
"Indeed." Kirigiri had her hand on her chin again. He was starting to put together a decent guess at what her Talent might be. "Normally opening a single floor after each murder would help us get used to the new rooms and methodology one might use. Given that Monokuma opened three at once…well, we already know he wants us to kill each other. The sudden increase in opportunities, weapons and rooms has significantly decreased the difficulty of pulling off a kill successfully."
He grimaced. "Well, at the very least we can assume that it'd warn us about dead bodies if they've been lying around for a while. Imagine how much harder it'd have been to solve Hagakure-san's murder if he had been left there any longer." Once again, guilt was a solid lump in his stomach. They hadn't found him. Didn't even think about how long it had been since they last saw the Clairvoyant. Negligence could be lethal here. And he had failed. Thoroughly and utterly.
"Why the long face, Makoto-kun?" He sighed, stepping away from the bear and searching the floor for any hidden panels. If only a locked door could stop this thing from ruining their collective day. A scrap of paper diverted his attention away from the question, and without thinking, he picked it up and flipped it over.
"Huh." A picture of Owada, Kuwata and Fujisaki, roughhousing with smiles on their faces. The desks in the background were familiar, but the sky…how long had it been since they last saw the sky. "Well this is fascinating."
"Hey hey that's mine! Give it back!" Monokuma was lightning quick, but even at his worst, Naegi had a distinct advantage over the bear. Raising his arm above his head, he watched with some amusement as the Principal flailed its stubby arms, hopping up and down like it could get to the photo. Quickly, before it could do something like slash at his legs, the Luckster handed the photo off to Enoshima. The Fashionista took one look, blanched, then passed it to Kirigiri.
"This thing doesn't make sense, right?" The strawberry blonde grimaced, accepting the photo once more for a couple seconds. "None of us bar Naegi and the diva girl knew each other. It would've been pretty obvious otherwise."
"It could be a forgery." Kirigiri murmured, but she handled the photo with care, neatly sidestepping Monokuma. "But if this is real, it confirms our theory, Naegi."
"Give or take 90% certainty." He snarked, catching the slip of paper before it could fall into the Principal's paws. "Best not to talk too much about it though." His eye wandered to the security camera concealed in a corner of the room, half-hidden if you opened the door. "You never know who's watching." Hatred was like ice in his veins. There were people who saw their desperate struggle for survival as entertainment out there. And with each death, he was increasingly less inclined to treat them with any sort of mercy when he escaped this place.
"Grrr…! My precious students are bullying their Headmaster!" Monokuma had been running in circles for a couple minutes at this point, the three students playing hot potato with the photo as they exchanged words over its head. "Fine then, keep it! Not like I care! I've got more anyway!"
"More?" Naegi latched onto that word immediately. "If you have a stack of these lying around somewhere…we must have known the Mastermind at some point."
"Why—" the bear started sweating. "—I'm not tellin' you nothin'!"
"Interesting hypothesis." The enigmatic Ultimate had a calculating look in her eyes. "And deeply concerning."
"Sheesh. If it's one of those creepo old men masquerading as teachers, he's gonna get an icepick to the face." Enoshima gagged, but looked deeply unsettled at the idea that someone who knew them was the one pulling the strings.
"We can worry about it later." Naegi shrugged, pocketing the photo for later examination. "With how often Monokuma slips up, at some point it might even tell us its name."
"I'm Monokuma! There are many like me, but I'm special!" The bear pouted, before grumpily turning around. "Jerks."
The trio made various noises of disagreement, before unanimously deciding to move on from this thoroughly odd situation before Monokuma stopped sulking. It'd give them some time without the bear.
"A recreation room…" Naegi picked up a cue, adjusting his posture briefly before setting it back down against the wall. "It's almost like whoever designed this place was looking for a fully self-sustaining place. Were students not expected to leave? Or are Ultimates just not the type to take regular lessons?"
"Considering the class above us had a guy who was literally in charge of a zoo or something," Enoshima rolled her eyes, a hand braced on her hip, "it isn't that much of a stretch to think that there's probably some Ultimate Gamer out there. Not sure what career they'd go into afterwards though. Pretty sure professional sports don't take too kindly to gifted people."
"Ultimates have their own category in competitions, or comply with the standard restrictions that most organisations follow." Kirigiri noted, leaning forward to inspect the magazines. "It's been quite the controversy in recent years, however, after an Ultimate Shooter put an air rifle pellet through a judge's eye after they demanded he stand three times further away from the target and still use a rifle within regulatory standards. Practically speaking, it was impossible for him to hit the target even though he could nail it with an army rifle."
"Ah…yeah, there was a lot of news coverage on that." Ultimates were either lauded or feared by most normal people. Their Talents, generally unpleasant-slash-eccentric personalities and tendency to spit on hard work often drew criticism and praise in equal measures. And considering there were individuals like Ultimate Killers running around, people had a right to be concerned. Discussions had started treading uncomfortably close to eugenics before Naegi had ended up in Hope's Peak.
"Rough." That was all the Fashionista had to say before she started fiddling with the old-timey arcade machine. He shrugged, arranging the pool balls in their standard starting position before amusing himself by stacking them into a small pyramid.
"Hey!" Monokuma stomped its foot upon entering the room. "What's with this sickeningly domestic scene!? Where's the drama, the flair, the Despair!?" Kirigiri had migrated to a chair, slowly reading a magazine in silence. Naegi was currently draped across the table, having set the Othello board aside so he had the space to do so. And Enoshima was very carefully stacking the board game pieces on him, occasionally asking Kirigiri for feedback (surprisingly, the usually dry Ultimate provided some rather insightful suggestions). The Luckster resisted the urge to lift his head, knowing that it'd disrupt the small towers on his back.
"Shuddup…" His words came out in a low drawl as fatigue tugged at his still-open eye. "We're not here to entertain you."
"B-but—" the bear stuttered, seemingly at a loss for words. "—so mean! I need excitement! Bears die without it!"
"Yeah yeah, whatever." Enoshima muttered darkly. Judging by the weight on his neck, she was now using the weird bottles they had examined earlier. He wondered how long it'd take to clean up if he accidentally twitched. She was also absentmindedly patting his head like he was a small animal. The Luckster didn't really know how to feel about that.
By the sounds of it, Kirigiri had just turned another page. "As much as previous evidence states otherwise, Naegi is correct. None of us are here to cater to your interests." Monokuma grumbled incoherently, stomping around the room like an irate toddler. Needless to say, the three teenagers ignored it.
"Naegi." He grunted to let her know he was listening. "It's fine if you want to catch a couple z's. Everyone knows you've earned it." A gloved hand also entered his limited field of vision before awkwardly tapping his shoulder in what he assumed was supposed to be a silent pat of agreement.
"...nah." The teenager murmured, even as tension continued to bleed from his form. "It's kinda nice to just exist in the moment. Without thinking about anything. No killers to catch. No need to fight for my life."
The silence grew a tad awkward, Enoshima's fingers freezing momentarily in his hair before they continued their ministrations. "Yeah. Sounds nice." There was a note of bitterness in her tone. He hummed his agreement, blindly reaching out to tap her on the arm. She snickered.
"Hey, dammnit!" Ah. Almost forgot you were here, Monokuma. "Stop being so happy! It's disgusting!"
Needless to say, they ignored him.
Omake: When Worlds Collide [6]
Our camera pans across the scene, showing off the meticulously curated room of the soon-to-be Ultimate Despair. An early prototype of Monokuma was half-disassembled on her table, next to a computer hosting her super duper secret plans for the future (encrypted of course, but certainly possible to break). It zooms in on our protagonist, Enoshima Junko, staring forlornly out her window as she waits for her useless, disgusting sister to come back with her new boytoy. She contemplates whether finally getting laid will cause said sister to grow a pair, before laughing at the impossibility of it all. Sure, this Naegi was a little weird and definitely had more backbone in his bandaged fingers than their Luckster had in his entire body, but he was still that optimistic, obnoxiously Hopeful boy.
The curse of being a genius was knowing there was no one who could stop you. That was why she had turned to Despair, after all. Still, even she had been at a loss for words when "Naegi" showed up, a smile on his face that didn't fade even as he stabbed Muku-nee in the hand. She giggled. Oh the horror on their faces…exquisite!
"Come in!" She shouts, just as someone knocks on the door. Pfft, like the beautiful and talented Junko-sama wouldn't be able to hear the stomping footsteps of her sister from a mile away. Oh? But what was this? There was a second set of them trailing after her, almost disguised by Muku-nee's trampling. Could it be?
Her sister stepped into the room, something torn between awe and fear on her face before she attempted to remove the expression. Interesting. She held the door open with a hand, allowing the man of the hour to come in. He smiled, dripping charm that dazzled her shit-for-brains sister, and with a glance between the two of them, Muku-nee exited, closing the door behind her.
"Hoh?" Junko stepped forward, noting with detachment that his gaze never drifted. "And what are you doing here?" Very subtly, one hand reached for the knife tucked in her skirt, even as her fingers danced up the side of his face, skirting around his eyepatch. He winked (or blinked?), his gloved right rising to mimic the gesture.
"Well~" He purred, as her grip tightened on the blade. "I was thinking—" She lashed out, driving the knife into his gut—
Only for his other hand to catch the knife. He didn't make a sound as the blade punched through his palm, only twisting to disarm her, smiling all the while. His fingers tightened their grip, and very obviously signalling his intent, he gently pressed his thumb against her eye. She blinked. Hadn't expected this, no siree. She wasn't defeated, by any means. But she kinda wanted to see what was going to happen. Would suck to lose an eye though.
"Naegi" leaned in, allowing her to take off his eyepatch with a flick of her manicured nails, revealing a red eye swirling with Despair. And yet, his other eye remained perfectly neutral. "I just wanted a bit of your attention."
She grinned. "You already had it as soon as you walked in," she confessed, "but now? Now you have my interest."