Summary: Do people still read this bit? Hey. Are you listening? Do you see me?
So. Enoshima Junko was a killer. One that had lied straight to his face, and even offered up a way to pretend she wasn't, playing off her career and the other students' perceptions of her. Naegi sighed as he paced back and forth, fingers drumming a silent rhythm along his arm. That was certainly something. Normally he'd be a lot more angry about this, but right now? Resignation and apathy were weighing heavily on his shoulders, a hint of Despair gently coiling around his ribs. Of course. Naegi Makoto could never have good things in his life for long. It didn't work that way. He sighed once more, and in a sudden burst of fury, slammed his good arm down on a nearby desk.
Wincing slightly as the shock resonated in his bones, he sheepishly ignored the splintering piece of furniture, plucking splinters from his sleeve before exiting the room. Now was not the time for this. There were places to be, things to do, and puzzles to solve. First on the list, of course, was what to do about the latest motive. The corners of his mouth twitched downwards. The easiest way to stop it, of course, was to reveal that it was highly likely that money no longer held the value it once did in the outside world. But then he'd have to explain how he got that information in the first place, potentially revealing an unknown secret room to the Mastermind and losing one of the few cards he still held to his chest. Furthermore, a Tragedy, at least the one that was hinted at in the files, did not necessarily indicate the complete and total collapse of societal order. It was equally likely that money was now more valuable than ever. If Monokuma had supplied them with gold bars, for instance, such reasoning wouldn't fly in the slightest.
So what could he do, to remove the motive from play? He pondered the question as he walked through the halls, with no particular destination in mind. Unlike their secrets, no amount of deduction and guesswork would stop human greed from working its terrible magic. He could, of course, try and watch those that were likely to fall victim to the siren call of cold, hard cash, but that was subject to his own internal bias. And with Enoshima having now become a familiar stranger, it was clear to him that he wasn't as sharp as he believed himself to be. Everyone carried their own secrets and personal motivations, and while he could attempt to understand that, when lives were at stake, he couldn't take chances.
The only other way that he could think of was to destroy the motive somehow…but how does one destroy ten million dollars? There were no weapons available to them apart from the set of kitchen knives that had already tasted blood, and perhaps those suspiciously sharp scissors he now knew Fukawa was carrying around. He needed something that could do it quickly and before Monokuma could stop him. But how could he—
Naegi stopped in his tracks, slapping a hand over his mouth so no one could see the malicious grin that he couldn't resist making at the incredibly stupid and dangerous idea that had flickered across his mind. It was risky, and he'd only have one shot at it, but it would be incredibly hilarious if it paid off. He'd have to make his move at night to minimize other variables, but it was possible. He'd check the storeroom first, then the kitchen if that failed…still, the Luckster needed to act relatively quickly. Most murders were crimes of passion rather than the cold, calculated plans that people saw in movies. Just look at what happened to Maizono. He shook the image of her corpse from his mind. Nonetheless, he had to do so before someone jumped the gun. A day at the very least, to put things in place and make sure Monokuma wasn't too suspicious. The Mastermind probably expected him to make his move immediately, especially considering the fiasco that had gotten his bat confiscated like he was a small child with a deadly toy. Just a few days, so that their guard was down. He hoped that people would stay alive until then.
"Hey! Naegi-bro!" He jerked backwards at the sudden shout, sidestepping the grasping hand of one Hagakure Yasuhiro. Blinking slowly, the Luckster stared down the Ultimate Clairvoyant.
"Hello, Hagakure-san." Didn't hurt to be polite, even if your conversation partner spent a million dollars on a crystal ball. "What seems to be the problem?"
The debt-ridden teenager laughed, slinging his arm over Naegi's shoulder. He had to clamp down on the urge to throw him to the ground at the invasion of personal space. "Don't be so serious dude! After all, our children are gonna have the—"
"Stop! I don't want to hear that again!" He snapped, shuddering at the thought. That was traumatising enough to hear once. 33% accuracy, 33% accuracy…for the love of all things good and holy, please let this fool be wrong. "And quit buttering me up. What do you want!?"
"Sheesh, relax…" Hagakure seemed to be oblivious to the fact that he was two steps from getting a fist to the face. "Got some time to talk? I've seen some things in your future that have changed since the last reading."
"...and how much are you charging me for this?" Go on. Say something stupid.
He chuckled awkwardly. "We can discuss payment some other time."
"Fine. Your room?" It wasn't like Naegi had anything else to do right now.
"That works!"
Hagakure had a habit of ranting about OOParts (out-of-place artifacts, as he soon found out) and the slightly concerning number of them he had apparently collected in the past. The Luckster was tempted to reveal that most of those things were probably fake…but he had a feeling Hagakure wouldn't believe him. Not that he really cared anyway. It was, however, irritating to think about how much money the other teenager must've thrown away for them.
The Clairvoyant closed the door behind them, leaving his key in the lock. Naegi quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing. Careless habits weren't really something he himself had the moral high ground to critique. He inspected the room, noting the various shiny trinkets littering the place, including a concerning number of crystal balls. Like, way too many of them. How much did they cost!? This place was as gaudy as a fortune telling booth at a travelling carnival.
"So!" Hagakure gestured to a table, ushering Naegi to sit down as he rifled through his drawers for something. "I thought I'd do something a little different this time."
"...why's that?" Was this a murder attempt? Naegi loosened his posture, but kept his knife-sleeve down in preparation for a fight. He did fit the bill for someone who'd kill for ten million dollars. Especially since the guy was in debt with the yakuza of all things. That was a death sentence waiting to happen.
"Because—" he pulled a deck of cards out of the drawer with a flourish. "—your future keeps changing, my brother!"
"Please," Naegi pinched the bridge of his nose, "stop saying that."
Hagakure laughed, shuffling the deck before spreading the cards out on the table. "Anyways, my readings get really muddled around you. I mean, it told me a couple days ago that Fujisaki was supposed to be dead! And considering she, I mean, he's still kicking, I'm trying out a different medium."
"Tarot cards. How traditional."
"Yup! Hope you don't mind the standard three card reading. Pick one for your past, one for your present, and one for your future." He hesitated briefly, causing Hagakure to chuckle once more. "You'll be helping me out by testing this. Don't worry, I'll give you a big discount."
Rolling his eyes, Naegi selected three cards at random, and watched with a hint of curiosity as Hagakure set the deck to one side. The Luckster turned the first one over, revealing the image of a man sitting on a throne, two individuals kneeling before him.
"The Hierophant, Reversed." Hagakure appeared unnaturally serious. "More positively, it's about challenging the status quo. Something happened in your past that caused you to see the world differently from everyone else, and question every rule you were forced to follow. It can also mean that you're on your own, and forged a path without influence from others."
Wordlessly, Naegi turned the next card, revealing a grinning skull.
"Death, Upright." The Clairvoyant attempted to give him a reassuring grin. "It doesn't actually mean you're gonna die, so relax! Death indicates the end of a major phase or aspect of your life. In a sense, it signifies a time of transformation or rebirth, clearing away things that once held you back in favour of something that could create new opportunities and advantages. It might also indicate that you need to learn to let go of unhealthy attachments and move past them."
…marginally better. Naegi turned the final card. A woman, pouring pitchers of water onto the ground.
"The Star, Reversed." Hagakure paused for several moments, before pressing on. "Sometime in the future, you'll lose your faith and hope in the universe. It indicates despair, and tests of faith, where you'll be confronted with challenging situations. As for how that'll turn out…even I don't know."
They sat there in silence for a couple minutes, Naegi turning over the meaning of the cards in his head. Hagakure Yasuhiro might be a fraud and a scammer, but he was known as the Ultimate Clairvoyant for a reason. If, by some stroke of luck, these readings were accurate…what would he do about it? The Luckster resisted the urge to tap his fingers against his thigh. He sighed, banishing these thoughts to the back of his mind. There were more pressing concerns for the time being. He could worry about vaguely unsettling warnings later.
"Thanks for the reading, I guess."
"Ha! No problem!" Well, someone seems to have bounced back quickly. "If you ever want another one, you know who to find."
Naegi wisely swallowed his words before they could offend the other teenager.
He checked the storeroom for the supplies he needed, and upon finding them, transferred the tools to the gymnasium for later use. Humming a nameless tune, Naegi made his way to the library for more information. In the off chance that Togami was there, he'd try to press the Scion for information without resorting to blunt force trauma. If not, he'd just rifle through the archives. There was something about Fukawa's scissors that reminded him of something, but the memory was distant and ethereal. It was almost like he'd seen them somewhere before. But where exactly, was the question he was looking to answer.
Peeking into the library, he breathed a sigh of relief at the absence of a certain blond douchebag. Briefly stopping to check his surroundings, Naegi slipped into the room, before entering the archives.
"Huh." There was a case file just lying on a box he had knocked aside with the door. "That's weird." Picking it up, curiosity dictated that he open the file to see what was inside. And so, he complied.
[The Records of Genocider Syo]
"Hmm…" This was the serial killer that had been on the news at some point. If memory served him correctly, they were still on the loose. Flipping through the pages, he grimaced at the rather graphic images labelled as evidence, but paused upon recognising the style of murder. Bingo.
While nobody in Hope's Peak had died in this particular fashion, all victims murdered by Genocider Syo had been crucified with sharpened scissors. Well, that was one mystery solved. There was currently a serial murderer running around their prison who had a confirmed kill count of thirty-seven. Yeesh. That did, however, raise more questions than it answered.
For one, how did Fukawa even get admitted into Hope's Peak? Did the administration seriously take someone in with a split personality that was wanted for many, many deaths!? Togami seemed to have figured it out, but the smug prick was probably content to hold this particular secret hostage in order to guarantee a victory if Genocider Syo did kill someone…or frame her for a murder. Practical. Absolutely vile, of course, but practical.
Next…next was the fact that Enoshima had a higher body count than a literal serial killer. Naegi had expected at least three or four murders, but to think that she had killed enough people to rank in the double digits…he resisted the urge to punch something and break his other wrist. He would have to keep a closer eye on her. The Luckster sighed, closing the file with a snap and setting it back where it came from. Leaning backwards until his head bumped against the wall, he closed his eyes.
It was like bailing out a sinking ship with a bucket. The more he tried to fix things, the more he started to realise that there were too many things to fix. The one person he had trusted so far had so much blood on her hands that it would probably be morally right to snap her neck. His life in Hope's Peak had been issue after issue after issue, and with each trial, he lost a little more while gaining nothing in the process. He bumped his head against the concrete surface. Was it worth it? Would he ever have a victory that wasn't snatched from the jaws of defeat? Or was he simply playing the Mastermind's game, dancing along to a tune he couldn't even hear?
The Luckster shook his head violently, attempting to dislodge those terrible, terrible thoughts from his mind. No. If he faltered now, if he even dared to think about giving up, he would lose what little Hope he still had left. His fingers twitched. It would disrespect the deaths of his classmates. Absolutely spit on their graves. And worst of all, it would be conceding to the Mastermind. The infuriating, disgusting person that had ripped him from his average, ordinary life and forced him into a game of life and death.
Hatred burned in his heart as he pushed himself off the wall, eyes alight with a sort of twisted emotion even he wouldn't be able to place. He nodded to himself.
Naegi Makoto was not yet ready to give up. Not until he managed to confront whoever had done this to him, and look them in the eye as he exacted his vengeance. And if Enoshima was part of the problem? If she was in any way responsible for this?
He'd kill her.