Summary: Oh my~
"I get why Fujisaki is joining us." He began somewhat awkwardly. "But why exactly are you two here?" They were making the slow ascent to the fifth floor, and trepidation was mixing with the food in his gut to make a particularly nauseating cocktail. He resisted the urge to clap a hand over his mouth. Couldn't afford to waste time in here, even if it had only been a couple days since his beatdown of the Ultimate Gambler. Monokuma…Monokuma was exactly the type of person to reveal another motive before they finished exploring the school just to unsettle them even further. He glanced at the Ultimate Martial Artist, who, for once in her life, appeared sheepish at being called out.
She smiled apologetically. "The four of you pulled your weight and more during the second Trial. I sincerely Hope that nothing like that ever happens again. But if it does, I need to be prepared. Especially since any of us could die, at any point." Her eyes flickered pointedly to Naegi as he continued to stumble up the stairs. The Luckster couldn't restrain the laugh that escaped his throat. Fair point. His broken hand trembled. He caught a glimpse of the way Enoshima grimaced from the corner of his eye, and the slightest hint of bloodlust in the air indicated how she felt about that sort of reminder. "Regardless, I cannot always be content to stand by and let others do the investigative work."
"Fair enough, I suppose." Naegi inclined his head towards their other unwanted guest, who radiated an aura of "I don't want to be here". Adjusting his eyepatch and quietly enjoying the way she flinched, the Luckster jerked a thumb in the Gambler's direction. "And I'm assuming this one's here because you're on guard duty."
"I have a name." Celeste glowered threateningly. Well, as threateningly as you could glower with a black eye and a nasally edge to your voice. A corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile. Normally he abhorred violence, and the way he was getting so very good at executing it, bad habits stirring like a rabid animal rattling the bars of its cage. But he was finding a new sort of delight in inflicting harm on people who deserved it. Naegi didn't quite know how to feel about that. But whoever Naegi Makoto had been before this Killing Game began to die the very moment he saw that knife in Maizono's chest, struggled feebly as he uncovered the truth and finished his final death rattles after [The 1000 Blows] . So he just had to figure out who he was now.
"I know you have a name, Celeste-san." He continued to ignore the way the Ultimate Gambler was trying to drill holes in the back of his head with her gaze alone. People liked doing that nowadays. He turned his head just enough to meet her crimson eyes with a singular grey-green one. No prizes for guessing who blinked first. The Luckster offered a cheeky grin. "I just don't care much for murderers."
The gothic girl looked away, and the rest of the trek up the stairs was blissfully silent. He could do without the way Enoshima was jabbing him in the ribs ever so often, something akin to a pout on her face. At this point, he was resigned to the fact that every word that slipped from his tongue antagonised people in one way or another. He sighed to himself. Togami was right, and wasn't that an unpleasant thought?
Each step that took them closer to classroom 5-C felt heavier than the last. The atmosphere had gone from somewhat light-hearted to depressingly grim. He shivered as the small group gathered outside the door. Quick glimpses of the hallway had revealed an unsettling picture. Paint that was clearly new compared to the rest of the faded walls. Cracks in the tiles that hadn't been replaced. Something had happened here, and considering what Fujisaki said about what they were about to see, he had a fairly accurate idea of what exactly that something was. A hiss left his mouth between clenched teeth. Nonetheless, he placed his hand on the door handle. "Ready?"
"As I'll ever be." Enoshima shrugged, but her normal cheer was absent, and her posture was ramrod straight. She gazed at the door like it was about to open up and swallow them whole. It wasn't an unfair sentiment, considering the faintest smell he could detect even though the room was sealed off.
Kirigiri adjusted her gloves nonchalantly. This one, at least, was in her element. "Ready when you are, Naegi." The enigmatic Ultimate gave him a glance that he assumed was supposed to be reassuring. He chuckled.
"If you don't mind, I will be staying out here." Celeste clasped her hands behind her back, but he had already noticed the way they had been shaking. He couldn't fault her. Thus, Naegi simply remained silent. The only reason he was about to enter this room was his own morbid curiosity. Well, that and the need to grasp at every thread he could find.
Ogami folded her arms, and he idly noted the way the motion showed off biceps that were probably bigger than his skull. It was always sobering to remember how close he came to death, and the miracle he had pulled off to stay alive. "I'll be guarding her then." Good point. Wouldn't want the Gambler to wander off and kill someone. Or get killed. Hope's Peak was a scary place.
"...I'm coming with you." Fujisaki clenched their fists tightly, a grim look of determination on their face. "No sense in running." They shot him a shaky smile. "Gotta do our best, right?" Oh Fujisaki…you're far too good for this world.
"Welp. Once more unto the breach." Before he could lose his nerve, the Luckster opened the door and stepped through the doorway.
The first thing he noticed was the smell. It had been the faintest hint of sickly sweet when the door was closed. Now it hit him like a firm slap to the face. This was probably the point where he should throw up, but that shrieking, crying part of him had been shoved firmly into the back of his head to be dealt with later. He took a mental step back from his body, distantly noting the way Fujisaki gagged. Enoshima and Kirigiri were already beginning to fan out and investigate the room more thoroughly with varying degrees of disgust on their faces being the only indicators of their revulsion. He shook his head slightly to compose himself. Here we go.
There were eight gases which created the distinctive odor associated with decomposing bodies. Given that there was only rotting blood in this room, some of the more vile ones were missing. Still, the stench of death was readily apparent, like eggs left out in the sun for days stirred together with feces. He stepped around a particularly large blood stain, internally counting the almost cartoonish chalk outlines on the floor. His head began to pound, a pressure building behind his damaged eye.
"Seven." Kirigiri reported, lowering herself down to one knee in order to shift a fallen table aside. "Make that eight. This wasn't just a murder, it was a massacre." She appeared unfazed despite the grisely scene. But then again, so did he, and he was definitely close to dissociating at this point.
"Eye for an eye…" Enoshima's hand lingered briefly on the words scribbed on the wall, extending a single finger to scrape at one of the letters. "Written in blood. No surprise here." His eye darted from the scratches on the whiteboard to the steel plates on the windows, perfectly pristine compared to the rest of the room. His headache intensified.
Fujisaki took a tentative step forward, retching slightly at the scene of carnage. He couldn't blame them. "What happened here? The destruction indicates some sort of fight…but even if something like this did happen at Hope's Peak, it would've been on the news. You can't bury a secret this big!"
"いま私の願いごとが~"
He twitched, looking up to the speakers. Considering no one else had reacted to the sudden burst of singing, this was just another sign of his failing mind. But why this folk song in particular? Why in this room? And why now? The Luckster pressed the heel of his hand to his covered eye in an attempt to alleviate the pain.
"Mass murder at Hope's Peak…" He murmured, limping to the center of the room to get a better overview of the entire situation. "Scratches on the walls that imply use of multiple bladed weapons—" Knives. A katana. A chainsaw…? He shook his head furiously. The hell was going on? "—but this sort of damage looks staged."
"If only." Enoshima laughed darkly as she walked along a wall. "But it doesn't quite make sense for Monokuma to stage a massacre now, does it? There are bullet holes here." His mind's eye traced the paths they must've taken, whistling through the air as ghosts screamed at each other and pointed guns. A quiet clink and a fast-moving object had him snatching something she tossed at him out of the air. He turned the object over in his hand. Unsurprisingly, it was a bullet. Nine milimeter. He idly noted the scattered shots. Rapid-fire weapon, wielded by an inexperienced individual. Of course they were inexperienced, most students didn't fire guns.
"白い翼つけてください~"
Kirigiri was now inspecting a bloodstained chair. It was warped and dented, almost like it had been used to beat someone to death. Which it had, before the assailant fell victim to another. He shook his head once more. No, he couldn't know that for sure. There were too many variables present to be certain. Who had been involved. The situation that must have forced these individuals' hands. He wiped his face of blood…? The Luckster tilted his head, dropping the spent ammunition to stare at his hands for a moment. Why would there be blood? His hands trembled. "A variety of weapons were used, judging by the blood spray patterns. Multiple attackers. It's as though a group of people suddenly decided to kill one another." She pointed to a chalk outline on the floor, fragments of glass scattered around it. "Full decapitation."
"Who would do such a thing?" Fujisaki murmured, even as they continued to search the room for clues. He admired that sort of fortitude. If only he had a bit of it back then. The Programmer had tears in their eyes. "Is this The Tragedy that happened one year ago?" Oh right, they also had access to Alter Ego's information. He'd have to fill them in on the rest of the finer details after this. Naegi glanced up at the camera, watching them emotionlessly. Maybe somewhere Monokuma couldn't hear them.
"子どものとき夢みたこと~"
"Unlikely." He gritted out. The pain in his eye had escalated. It was like someone was driving spikes into it. "It may have been a tragedy, but even this is too small a scale." Judging from the number of outlines on the floor, not too many people were involved. He blinked rapidly. "Might've been why Hope's Peak had to close down though." Something awful enough to ruin the nearly pristine reputation that the Academy had maintained tirelessly. Perhaps if someone had filmed the whole thing and uploaded the video to the internet. Even if it was discredited, this sort of callous slaughter would raise suspicion.
"A distinct possibility." Kirigiri got to her feet, turning to regard the Luckster with an analytical gaze. "Naegi. Are you…alright?" He resisted the urge to grimace. Did he really look that bad? Judging from the way Enoshima and Fujisaki had disconnected themselves from their investigation, he already knew the answer to that question.
"I'm fine." He never picked up a weapon, even until the very end. If only he could've saved someone. "Just…a little nauseous." He gestured vaguely to the room, bile burning the back of his throat. "I think the smell's getting to me." He gasped as the phantom sensation of a knife carving into his shoulder abruptly introduced itself, stumbling slightly. Vision blurring, he allowed the Fashionista to hurriedly prop him up without complaint. "Thanks."
"You look like shit, Naegi." Enoshima answered gruffly, slipping her arm underneath his own in order to keep him on his feet. Almost like a hug. "I mean, you always look like shit these days, so it isn't really anything new—" A startled burst of nearly hysterical laughter escaped Fujisaki, who immediately looked mortified. "—but you look like you're about to pass out." With the way the pain in his head was steadily upping the ante, it was a distinct possibility.
"翼はためかせ~" / "Tsubasa hatamekase~"
"Naegi!?" He slumped against his companion, who now looked incredibly worried after his legs had abruptly given way beneath him. "The fuck are you singing for?" It was getting harder to string together a coherent thought.
"Singing?" Against his better judgement, the Luckster applied pressure to his broken wrist, allowing the white-hot lance of pain to provide some clarity. "I…don't…know." Betrayal, gnawing at his insides, burrowing into his guts and feasting on his organs. Something was up, but he didn't quite know what.
Fujisaki was hovering over him like a frantic mother, placing a hand to his forehead. "You're burning up!" They frowned, but it looked more like a pout. Cute. "Have you been sick this whole time!?"
"Maybe?" That was definitely the wrong answer to say, judging by the three looks of exasperation now directed at him. "I took some medication this morning…it shouldn't be this bad."
"Dammit Naegi, what did we just say about your self-sacrificing tendencies!?" Enoshima looked like she wanted to strangle him. Hands around his neck, tears falling onto his face. He ripped her eye out. It was an accident. "Right, Kirigiri, you can finish this up while I escort this idiot back to his room."
Kirigiri sighed, but there was concern in her eyes. "I'm just about done anyway. There isn't much that we can gleam without bodies, and the sheer multitude of weapons and victims involved makes it a particularly messy crime scene. All we know is that eight people died here, at each other's hands. Assuming at least one survived, that brings the total up to nine."
"No…" He shook his head. He couldn't see anymore through the agony-filled haze. The words fell from his mouth by sheer instinct. "Sixteen. There were sixteen of us."
"What!?" / "Excuse me?" / "Eh?"
Jumping out the window, shards lacerating his face. Surviving through sheer good fortune, even as his arm snapped like a twig. Running away, on shaky legs, only to be caught by a demon with apathetic red eyes.
"I wasn't supposed to be there…" He murmured, losing the rest of the meager fragments of strength that had allowed him to stay standing. "But then again, sixteen was the perfect number. Especially since this was a trial run."
He grinned drunkenly at the Fashionista, and for the briefest of moments, he was overcome with the inexplicable desire to drive his thumbs into her eyes before his vision went black.
"飛んで行きたいよ~"
Omake: When Worlds Collide [18]
Komaeda Nagito hummed cheerfully as he walked through the corridors. His plans were coming together, and if he was able to serve his purpose as a stepping stone for his classmates' Hope, that would be all the better. Regardless of what happened to him. So caught up in his thoughts was the Ultimate Luckster, that when he turned the corner, he ended up colliding with someone else.
He fell to the ground with a small grunt, rubbing his head before hurriedly running over to pick up the smaller boy he had run into, who was currently attempting to pick himself up with a bat. "My apologies." The eyepatch wearing unknown waved him off, getting to his feet and using the baseball bat as a makeshift walking stick. Interesting.
"No, it's my bad." The brown-haired student smiled, and Komaeda noticed the torn blazer tied haphazardly to his waist. Ah, another Ultimate. The Luckster felt a deep shame welling up inside him and sought to rectify it immediately.
"Oh no, don't apologise!" He waved his hands frantically. "To force someone like you to apologise to someone as worthless as me…I'm so terribly sorry!"
The Ultimate tilted his head, but shrugged without arguing. "I'm Naegi Makoto." He extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mister…?" Komaeda shuddered, hesitating before accepting the greeting for what it was.
"Komaeda Nagito…may I have the pleasure of knowing what Talent you possess?"
Naegi smiled, adjusting his eyepatch before responding. "I was invited to be the Lucky Student of the 78th class…" Komaeda felt a brief flicker of disappointment. "But I've also been granted the title of Ultimate Disaster. It's good to meet you, Komaeda-kun."
The 77th Class' Luckster blinked, wondering if it was possible for someone as worthless as a Lucky Student to also possess a true Ultimate ability. Then again, "Disaster" wasn't exactly what you would consider a proper Talent. He shook that thought from his mind. No, a Disaster could mean many things. Heroes were often considered villains to those on the opposing side. "If you'll excuse me, I have to get somewhere…" Time was of the essence.
Naegi nodded, and the Luckster began to walk away. "Right, right…" The oddly blank tone stilled his movements as something akin to fear crept up his spine. He turned to regard his junior, looking him in the eye and shivering at the emotions he saw within it. The shorter boy wiggled a remote. "On your way to blow up the gym?"
"How did you—" He checked his bag, then eyed the smirking Lucky Student warily. "—you planned this."
"Yup." Naegi spun the remote, finger hovering over the detonator. "I've got places to be and things to do. So I'll be taking this."
"I can't let you do that." This…Disaster. He was suddenly aware of his Despair, tucked behind an innocent smile. There were dark intentions at play here. But then again, was this the sort of obstacle that would allow his classmates to improve their Hope? He paused, conflicted. And in that split second of hesitation, Naegi Makoto struck.
The 78th Class' Luckster darted forward, delivering a vicious jab to Komaeda's throat and causing the older teenager to collapse, suddenly unable to draw breath. His assailant flicked his fingers idly. "I've been waiting to do that for a long time." Naegi beamed, satisfied, before stepping on the white-haired teenager's chest, pinning him to the floor.
"Don't worry, Komaeda-kun." The Devil crooned as he pocketed the remote. "Everything's been disarmed. Kimura-chan has the correct medicine on hand. And the perpetrator's right here, beneath my boot." He chuckled at some inside joke before leaning down, allowing Komaeda to witness the absolutely terrifying maelstrom of Hope and Despair in his eye.
"And you, my friend." Naegi poked him in the cheek. "Are going to help me with something."