Oh, hey there…
Didn't expect to see you here…
You might be wondering.
What exactly happened here?
Well, I guess I should start from the beginning…
…
Before we go any farther, I guess I should introduce myself.
My name is…
Makoto
…
…
…
…
Early in the morning, A hand lands down on a clock just as its alarm begins to go off. The digital clock barely had a chance to do so for a second before it was shut off. The hand's user left again, to continue with its thing.
The hand continued with its goal to adjust the knot of his tie, a muted brown-green that matched the dark formal suit he wore. Looking at a mirror, his reflection stared back at him, a figure far removed from his usual casual self. The crisp black jacket and white shirt felt unfamiliar, despite all the time he spent wearing them. Their weight felt heavier than expected, even after all this time. He couldn't decide if it was the fabric or the occasion that carried the burden this time.
With one final tug, the tie sat perfectly in place, and he stepped back to take in the whole picture. His gaze lingered on his hair. For once, he had combed it, a subtle yet significant change for him. The wild spikes that had always defined him were tamed, though not entirely gone. The edges of his hair were less unruly, the spikes softer, more deliberate, as if his reflection was trying to present itself as someone new.
And yet, as his fingers instinctively ruffled the sides of his head, a few strands refused to cooperate, springing back into a faint echo of the messiness he couldn't quite escape. He gave a little smile at himself, a flicker of his usual self peeking through the more polished exterior.
Satisfied, or perhaps resigned, he took a deep breath and straightened his posture. The mirror reflected that of a man that had gone above and beyond the last couple of year, one who still felt like a boy inside. At least, that's how he felt.
His eyes instinctively glanced down to his hands. He saw them shaking a little. Belittling himself, he tried his best to force himself to calm down, as he couldn't panic now, not today!
After all, He couldn't let anything change the course of today. They had waited too much, far too long. It was the perfect time, and they would never have a second chance at it.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
The sharp rapping at his door yanked him out of his thoughts, his gaze snapping toward the source of the noise. He took a moment to exhale, stealing one last glance at his reflection before making his way to the door.
When he opened it, a lavender-haired woman stood waiting, her expression calm yet unreadable, as he was used to. She wore a tailored black jacket over a high collared white blouse, a fitted skirt and some sturdy boots completed her attire, the faint gleam of a holstered weapon strapped to her thigh adding an air of practicality to her elegance.
Her long, silver-lavender hair flowed past her shoulders, perfectly straight and impossibly neat, save for a few strands that framed her sharp, analytical eyes. Those amethyst orbs studied him carefully, taking in every detail as if no part of him could escape her notice.
For a moment, the two of them stood in silence. But as per usual for all of their stalemates, she broke the ice.
–"Looks good on you." She spurts out of a sudden.
Right there, his stiffness completely disappeared as he could only look at her confused and, mildly embarrassed by her words.
–"Wh-What?"
–"Your tie. They match your eyes."
He chuckled lightly as he glanced down at his tie once more. Bringing a hand to the back of his head, he answered while scratching it.
–"Y-Yeah… I usually wear the black ones with the suit…"
She gave him a small smile as her eyes softened, a sight only he got in times like this.
–"Very well. Then we should get going."
–"Yes!" He left his room and closed the door behind him. Then they walked in tow to leave the dorms.
They walked through the hallways, passing by various persons that wore similar attires to them. Every single person in the facility wore formal clothes for the most part, but neither of them paid too much mind, as if they were marching to their
They hadn't said a word since they started walking, however, he wished to change that.
–"...Thank you, Kirigiri-san"
Besides him, the woman turned her head to him.
–"What for?"
–"For making me feel better. You always know what to say."
She turned her head to athe side, trying to mask the fond smile that was forming on her features.
–"I simply told the truth. I didn't expect my words to have such an influence on you."
–"They always do, Kirigiri-san." He replied with a genuine smile of his own.
At that, she stopped in her tracks, which caused the young man to walk slight ahead of her before he stopped to face her.
–"Kirigiri-san?"
–"You are aware of what day today is, right?" She asked, despite already knowing that he would never forget something like that.
–"I am." He replied, his energy dropping at the mention of it.
–"We've waited this long for this to happen. We can't allow any mistakes to happen."
–"I know…" He avoided her gaze.
At it, she felt that she was going the wrong way with this, so she walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
–"I'm not reprimanding you, nor am I threatening you, I–"
–"I know, Kirigiri-san." He said as he waved her hand off of him. "I am worried too. You don't need to stress it out for me. We'll do our best." His smile returned.
Kirigiri wanted to believe in his words but she was worried.
Worried for him.
–"I just want to make sure you… understand what all of this means."
–"And I do. If we fail, then our classmates wi–"
–"I'm not talking about them." She interrupted him, her fists tightening. "I'm talking about YOU. Do YOU understand what this means? What could happen to YOU?"
Her words cut like a knife, and he knew very well where she was going with this.
–"Six times." She said. "The Future Foundation fought the Remnants of Despair six times. Not once they were able to beat them. To apprehend them. To so much scratch them." She uncharacteristically thrashed out.
–"But the second you were enlisted to help with the last conflict… You find him sitting, stargazing in peace, and then EVERYONE turns themselves in? Don't you think that's very suspicious?"
The young man flinched at her outburst. He knew full well that she nor even he could accept the "Never look a gift horse in the mouth" as an answer. He wasn't the smartest, but he was neither the dumbest…
Or at least he liked to believe.
–"I know. There's obviously something else going on behind the scenes. It's risky, I know but…"
He challenged her glare with one of his own. His eyes filled with determination.
–"If we don't try, then what do we do? And somebody has to take charge and handle the responsibility."
His eyes locked with hers, and he gave no room for defiance.
–"If I don't, then who?"
He said, and Kirigiri could only stare. Her drive slowly dwindled.
–"I could–"
–"No!" He shutted her down this time.
They've already had this discussion before.
–"If it's anyone else, then they all risk facing the same fate they want to give to the Remnants of Despair! If it's me, at the very least, we will win some time. As I've said, let me use this title of 'Ultimate Hope' for good this time!"
–"..." Kirigiri didn't reply to him. His worlds sunk in, yet she didn't like the possibilities one bit.
At her silence, he continued.
–"If it's you, Asahina, Togami or even Yasuhiro, then you all could face execution… And Fukawa is…" He shook his head, he couldn't lose his focus jow. "If it's me… Then they might not jump the gun just yet…"
–"Because you stopped Enoshima." She stated, however the young man flinched in distaste.
–"We all did. Yet everyone attributes it to me…"
–"Because you did. Had you not been there, we all would have fallen for her plan. We wouldn't be here, Naegi."
She had lost count of the many times that she had told him those words, but it felt that every time she did, the less he believed her.
–"...Then let me through with this. They might… give me the benefit of the doubt…" He weakly argued. And Kirigiri scoffed at those words.
–"Yeah, Izayoi, Sakakura and especially Munakata will believe you…" She said in rhetoric. "The very same that want the Remnants of Despair dead. It's… madness, Naegi."
–"I know, I know, but… We can't leave them! Just–" He cut himself before scanning their surroundings. They couldn't have prying ears to catch them.
–"I'll handle it, Kirigiri. We have to try."
She didn't like this. She didn't like this one bit. But she relented.
–"I know, It's just… You'll be alone, and you'll have to carry all of the responsibility on your own.."
At that, Naegi gave her a smile.
–"I won't be alone, Kirigiri… Asahina and Gekkogahara will help me out." He reminded her.
With a small tsk of her tongue, Kirigiri turned her head away a little.
–"Yeah… Alone with them…" She muttered under her breath.
–"And we'll be quick! I'll stay to watch over everything while Asahina and Gekkogahara return. If we are lucky, then everything's going to be over by the time I come back."
–"…"
–"Kirigiri?"
–"Just… haaaah…" She exhaled. "Promise me you won't do anything… too risky, alright?" She asked, almost pleaded.
At that, he gave her a smile, of the tender type that always soothes her.
–"I won't. I promise you that I'll try my best, Kirigiri-san."
Kirigiri exhaled. She would have to make due with that reply.
–"Very well… I guess there's no use in trying to get You to back down… specially this late…"
He lightly chuckled a fake laugh, knowing full well how stubborn he was.
–"Sorry…"He scratched the back of his head, painfully aware of what he was doing.
–"Alright then. We should get going." Kirigiri said, as she began to march once more.
–"...Also." Only to stop once more, giving him an over her shoulder glance.
–"You know that you can call me by my name, Naegi. There's no need to be so formal after this long."
The "Ultimate Hope" blinked to take in her words, and he replied with a chuckle of his own.
–"R-Right, Kyoko-san…" He nodded, walking up to her.
But he didn't end there.
–"Then you can call me Makoto, Kyoko-san. I don't mind either."
A small smile formed in Kyoko's lips as she began walking once more.
–"Come on. We have work to do."
He nodded and followed after him.
–"Right."
The room was heavy with tension, as if the walls themselves were braced for the storm brewing within. Kyoko Kirigiri glanced around for what felt like the eleventh time. As one of the few physically present at the Future Foundation headquarters meeting, she couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment. The others present were Kyosuke Munakata, the no-nonsense Director of Branch Office 2; his ever-loyal right hand, Juzo Sakakura, Director of Branch Office 6; and Chisa Yukizome, Director of Branch Office 5 and their third indispensable ally. Beside them sat Kazuo Tengan, Director of Branch Office 1 and former headmaster of Hope's Peak.
The rest of the branch office directors were scattered across the globe, participating virtually via secure video feeds. On the monitors, Branch Directors 4, 8, 9, and 13 listened in from their respective locations, their faces flickering with a mixture of relief and suspicion.
Munakata, his piercing gaze locked on his tablet, finally spoke.
–"And now, for the final topic. The Remnants of Despair."
The name sent a ripple through the room.
Juzo leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his voice a growl.
–"Those bastards actually turned themselves in after all the shit they pulled. I can't believe it."
–"Unbelievable as it may be," Munakata continued, "we're here to discuss the specifics of their surrender. Thanks to Makoto Naegi, Izuru Kamukura and the others have handed themselves over to Branch 14." He paused, his voice colder. "What remains is the matter of their punishment once they are transferred to headquarters."
Kyoko felt her chest tighten at the mention of Makoto. She kept her face calm, her hands folded neatly before her, but her mind was racing.
A voice crackled from one of the monitors, Director 13's tone tinged with cautious optimism.
–"I don't know how he managed it… but if it means this nightmare is finally over, then I suppose it's a victory."
–"Is it, though?" Ruruka Ando, Director of Branch Office 8, spoke up. Her tone was skeptical, almost bitter. "Doesn't it seem a little too convenient? They've eluded us these two years, and now they just… surrender?"
Sonosuke Izayoi, Director of Branch Office 9, chimed in, his voice calm but sharp.
–"I don't trust it either. Those bastards bested me in combat more than once. Surrender doesn't fit their pattern."
From her monitor, Ando cooed at him affectionately,
–"Oh, don't worry, my love! I'll make you some sweets when you're back!"
However, a quick slam shut everyone up. It was none other than that of Kazuo Tengan, the founder of Future Foundation. He didn't wish for any more interruptions to happen in this meeting.
–"I believe we have more… Important matters to discuss." Tengan said, giving the floor to Munakata.
–"That's right. We are here to make decisions, not entertain sentimental distractions." He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "The question is simple. What do we do with the Remnants of Despair? I for one, have a simple answer to it as well."
The room fell silent. Everyone already knew what Munakata was going to say.
–"Execution."
The word landed like a thunderclap.
For a moment, no one spoke. It was Director 13 who finally stammered out, "E-Execution? Are you serious?"
Munakata's glare could have frozen fire.
–"Do you believe we have another option? These people are responsible for atrocities beyond measure. They slaughtered countless innocents, tore our society apart, and plunged the world into chaos. Mercy is not an option."
–"Don't you think that's… extreme?" Director 13 ventured, his voice faltering under Munakata's cold gaze.
–"You'd rather let them walk free? A slap on the wrist, perhaps?" Munakata's tone was cutting. "Let me remind you—their actions cost us leaders, nations, families. They are the root of despair, and roots must be severed."
–"But they… weren't always like this…" Branch director 4, Seiko Kimura and former Ultimate Pharmacist finally spoke up. "They were influenced by Junko Enoshima, much like how we saw her explain during Class 78th's killing game in Hope's Peak"
–"But that doesn't change who they are now." He glared. "A murderer, stays a murderer. And they didn't just murder." With the press of a key, the monitor now showcased every single act of terrorism, destruction, slaughter and anything that counted for their cause of despair to be in display.
–"Genocide, Famishing, Terrorism, Biological and Ecological terror, Illegal weaponry manufacturing and distribution, Cannibalism. The list is cartoonishly long, yet they made it all and so much more just for… her."
Another button press showed a very renowned face by now.
Junko Enoshima.
The person that single handedly ended the world.
–"After her death, their acts grew exponentially higher. But that was until this last month. We are unsure on how this ties back to them, but at the very least, this means that there was a decrease of their actions of almost 90%."
–"Yeah, and once we cut him for good, we'll drop it to 100 %." Sakakura supported Munakata's words. "I'm with Munakata here. They all should get what they deserve."
There was a small moment of silence between all members, however, Munakata didn't intend this to be an ultimatum.
–"In any case, it doesn't matter just yet. After all, I'd rather have this discussion with the entire board over this. I simply wished to go over the basics "
–"They are getting transferred here today, right?" Sakakura asked, his voice sharp as he leaned back against the wall.
–"Correct. Naegi Makoto is in charge of their transfer," Kyoko replied calmly, though her gaze remained fixed on the screen.
–"Heh. Put them on over the camera system. Let's see those birds of prey get handed over," Sakakura said with a slight smirk, his tone laced with disdain.
–"Agreed. I'd like to see if things are faring well for him," Munakata added. With a few precise taps on the console, the camera feeds around the entrance of the Future Foundation headquarters lit up across the screen.
One by one, the angles flickered into view: the loading bay, the main gate, the outer perimeter. However, not once did they spot the convoy or the Remnants of Despair being escorted into the building.
–"Have they already been delivered?" Sakakura asked again, narrowing his eyes at the unchanging feeds.
–"...I'll check," Munakata replied, his brow furrowing as he began to cycle through the cameras with increasing speed. The rapid clicks of the system echoed in the tense silence, but each view was the same—empty corridors, idle staff, or standard patrols. There was no sign of Makoto or the Remnants.
–"You said Naegi was handling this, right?" Sakakura pressed, his voice taking on an accusatory edge.
Kyoko didn't reply immediately, her frown deepening as she scrutinized the screens. Something was wrong.
Munakata cycled through the cameras again, his frustration mounting. Then, abruptly, he froze, his fingers hovering over the keys.
–"What is it?" Sakakura demanded.
–"Munakata! The previous one!" Kyoko's voice cut through sharply.
Munakata clicked back. The screen changed, revealing an exterior camera overlooking the rear access road. At the edge of the frame, barely noticeable, a vehicle deviated from the main route. It was subtle—no alarms, no guards reacting—but the convoy's primary transport was there, turning away from its intended destination.
–"That's one of the vehicles," Munakata muttered, his tone low and cold.
The camera captured just enough to show that the vehicle was not moving under duress. It was a deliberate change in direction, headed away from Future Foundation's headquarters. In the driver's seat, though partially obscured, a familiar figure could be seen. The slight build, the brown hair—it was unmistakable.
–"That's Naegi," Sakakura growled, slamming his fist into the table. "What the hell is he doing?"
Kyoko's eyes widened.
–"That's impossible. He wouldn't—"
But before she could finish, Munakata cut her off, his voice hard and unrelenting. "There's no mistake. He's deviating from protocol."
The screen shifted again, this time showing another camera angle further down the same road. The vehicle in question was joined by another smaller, unmarked car. The two moved in tandem, disappearing out of sight moments later.
–"Naegi would never do something like this! Not without a reason!" Kyoko adamantly stated, stepping forward as if to block the rising storm of accusations.
–"Reason or not, this is treachery," Munakata snapped, his piercing eyes meeting hers. "Sakakura, I want you on every security guard's neck. Not one of them leaves until I say so. Yukizome, contact the other branch heads. We need to inform everyone that we have a traitor on board."
–"You're overreacting!" Kyoko protested, but Munakata was unmoved, his gaze like steel.
–"And you four," Munakata turned to the virtual monitors where other Future Foundation members watched the meeting unfold remotely. "Recoup and settle down. We don't know what they're planning for the next couple of days."
–"This meeting is adjourned." With that, Munakata stood, his movements decisive as he closed the laptop before him with a loud snap. The room fell into silence.
–"He is your underling. Am I supposed to believe he's gone rogue?"
Kyoko now stood arrested, sitting on a chair of a… restraining room where they kept their suspects and such.
Being gazed under her opposite lens was not an experience the lavender haired detective was fond of.
–"And do you even have a logical argument to say that I had anything to do with this?" She challenged unafraid.
–"Cut the bullshit." This time, a different voice. That of the former Ultimate Boxer, Sakakura. "You two are from the same class. You two are thick as thieves. You are his lapbitch and he is yours. Don't try to make us believe otherwise."
Juzo always was known for his rather aggressive behaviour. But Kyoko wasn't one to be intimidated by thugs like him.
She'd see them on a daily basis, the only difference here was that he was a certified knucklehead.
–"All you have is hearsay. Or should I say, a watchparty? You watching our killing game doesn't prove anything, Sakakura."
–"Why, you–" The former boxer was losing his marbles as he tightened a fist, readying it up for what he was most used to. But a hand stopped him altogether.
–"Sakakura, stop. It's no use." He told his friend. "We knew she wouldn't say a thing. This is as much as we can do."
Juzo growled in anger, but eventually settled. A scoff being his last answer.
–"Don't think you've on-upped us, Kirigiri." He told her. "Whatever Ultimate Despair is planning, we won't falter."
And, for once. It happened.
Kyoko Kirigiri laughed. A humble chuckle if anything.
–"If you think that Makoto is part of Ultimate Despair, then you are severely misunderstood." She said with absolute trust in her partner.
–"I'll believe it when he comes to explain what he did with the Remnants of Despair." "Meanwhile you, will stay here."
–"Yeah… for the next 22 hours." She nonchalantly said. "You wish to desperately bring back society, I know you'll keep the norms to a toll. I've been in your same shoes several times, Munakata. I won't bend to give you the narrative you think you know."
–"K-Kyosuke! We have to do something about her!" Juzo protested. "If we keep around, freely and willy, then she will continue to leak information to them!"
–"You'd be right… If I even leaked something to begin with." Kyoko tried to explain, but Juzo wouldn't believe her anyway. "As I've said. I didn't aid Makoto in his attempt to take the Remnants of Despair with him. I was in the meeting with you the whole day."
The white haired man had heard enough. Knowing that he wouldn't get any answers from her, he decided to leave.
–"Kyosuke?"
–"Let's not waste time on her." He said. "Despair covers despair after all."
And just like that, after firing a glare to the handcuffed detective, Juzo followed after him. The door closed shut and Kyoko finally had some peace for her.
–"Makoto…" She exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding.
–"Stay safe… please…"
Makoto sat in the control room of the facility, staring at the monitors displaying the comatose forms of the Remnants of Despair. The faint glow from the screens illuminated his tired face, highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. The hum of the machinery around him felt deafening in the otherwise silent room.
Five days.
Five days since he'd arrived on Jabberwock Island. Five days since everything had been set into motion.
He leaned back in his chair, exhaling a shaky breath.
–"Two days to get here and set this up…" he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. "And now it's just me."
The first two days had been a blur. Between securing transport, setting up the facility, and ensuring the New World Program was operational, he and his allies had barely had a moment to breathe. Miaya Gekkogahara and Aoi Asahina had helped with the technical setup, ensuring every system was functioning perfectly. But once their part was done, Makoto insisted they leave immediately.
"It's too dangerous for you to stay," he had told them. "If anyone even suspects what we're doing, it could all fall apart."
Now, he was alone, left to monitor the program and the Remnants while ensuring the island's location remained a closely guarded secret. He rubbed his temples, the weight of it all pressing down on him.
"I can't let them find this place. If they do…" He shook his head. That wasn't an option.
Makoto glanced at the monitor displaying Izuru Kamukura. Despite the chaos he had unleashed in the past, Izuru looked peaceful now, as if he were simply sleeping. The New World Program was their best hope of undoing Junko's brainwashing, but it wasn't without risks.
Makoto's thoughts were interrupted by the faint hum of the facility's backup generator kicking in. He turned toward the radio on the desk. It was a secure line, one Kyoko had insisted he keep for emergencies.
But Makoto knew this moment was coming. Future Foundation wouldn't stop looking for him, not after what he had done to protect the Remnants. And the longer he stayed hidden, the greater the risk that someone would find Jabberwock Island. If Kyosuke Munakata or his faction suspected anything, they wouldn't hesitate to raze the island to the ground.
He stared at the radio for a long moment before reaching for it. His hand hovered over the button.
–"This is the only way…" he murmured to himself.
Makoto pressed the button and spoke quietly into the receiver.
–"This… This is Makoto Naegi. I need a transport." He paused, steadying his voice. "I'm ready to… to turn myself in."
The response came almost immediately, crackling through the static.
–"Understood. Provide your coordinates, and we'll dispatch a helicopter."
Makoto glanced at the map pinned to the wall—an old nautical chart of the surrounding islands. His eyes scanned the area until they landed on a remote location, miles away from Jabberwock Island.
–"Coordinates are north of Latitude 12 degrees, Longitude 131 degrees," he said. It was a tiny, unremarkable islet, one he'd identified beforehand as a fallback point in case of emergencies. It was far enough away that no one would think to search Jabberwock Island, but close enough for him to reach in the small motorboat docked outside.
The voice on the radio confirmed his instructions.
–"A helicopter will arrive at the coordinates in six hours."
Makoto set the radio down and closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. He knew this decision would cost him dearly, but it was the only way to protect the island—and the people on it.
The hours passed slowly as Makoto prepared to leave. He double-checked the program's systems, ensuring everything would continue to run smoothly in his absence. As he did, he saw how everyone's virtual personas started their search for the Hope Fragments. An innocent excursion that Gekkogahara's virtual pet Usami would entrust to them. They basically represent small fractions of their original personalities, memories, dreams, relationships and all that, as if they were rediscovering themselves. Gekkogahara was the Ultimate Psychiatrist after all, if anyone would design something to help them recover their own selves in bite size collectable to ease their minds little by little, it would be her.
Before he left, he scribbled a short note for Kyoko, Asahina or anyone that could return in time if he was long for too long. He finished and tucked it into the corner of his desk, underneath his cold coffee, hopefully somewhere only they would find it if things went wrong.
When the time came, Makoto stood at the edge of the island, the small motorboat bobbing gently in the water before him. He climbed in and started the engine, the low rumble breaking the quiet of the night.
The journey to the rendezvous point was long and uneventful. The stars above provided the only light, their reflections dancing on the waves. Makoto kept his hands steady on the wheel, his mind racing with thoughts of what was to come.
Finally, he reached the islet. The helicopter was already waiting, its blades churning the air. Makoto stepped out of the boat, his heart pounding as he approached the craft. He glanced back at the ocean, where Jabberwock Island lay hidden in the distance.
This is for them, he thought. This is for hope.
As he climbed aboard the helicopter, the door slammed shut behind him. The aircraft lifted off, carrying him toward an uncertain future—and leaving Jabberwock Island safe, at least for now.
Everything had gone to shit.
Monokuma was back, and he played a killing game with all branch head directives. There supposedly was a mole that hunted them down each time their bracelet put them to sleep.
Oh yeah, they were all forced to wear these bracelets, these bangles that threatened everyone to be poisoned should they break their "Forbidden Action."
He had "Running on the halls.", so no matter how hard or how desperately he wanted to help someone out or escape from someone's grasp, he would be out of luck…
Quite thematic for them.
A lot of them had died already. Bandai being the first to do so after Juzo and him accidentally caused Bandai to break his forbidden action after Juzo punched the shit out of Makoto.
"Witnessing violence between participants."
Because of it, they knew far too well that the poison was no bluff. They bore witness to how poor Bandai was poisoned, his skin turning purple and one of his eyes bled red.
They had reached the fourth time limit, and thankfully, not too many remained.
The group, Makoto, Aoi, Kyoko and one Ryota Matarai that has stuck with Kyoko until now, managed to group up together and make the medical storage they were in into a… relatively secure safe haven
Makoto woke up first, once his grogginess left his body, he looked to his surroundings before leaving out a relaxed sigh.
–"We are still alive…" He breathed out. "I think we did it, no one's been killed!"
Next to him, Aoi Asahina woke up as well. The former ultimate swimmer had lost her suit earlier on after being stained with Great Gozu's blood… god bless him…
–"Looks like we made it through, huh?" She said optimistically as she stretched a little, turning to the "Ultimate Hope".
–"Yeah, your barricade worked like a charm." He replied with a chuckle as he saw how Mitarai woke up as well.
However, the room was one person short. One of them hadn't woken up yet.
Kyoko Kirigiri.
She was lying down in the ground, chest up, her back against the floor. Her face was a little turned to the side, one of her cheeks touching the ground but…
She didn't look asleep.
Makoto scanned her frame and he noticed something that jarred his heart.
Faint traces of purple.
–"God… please, no…" Muttered Makoto, gaining the attention of the other two.
His brain quickly rebooted as he saw Kyoko's purple skin.
–"H-Her forbidden action!" He sprinted right next to her. Grasping some of her clothes, he shook her up. "Kirigiri! Kirigiri!"
But she never woke up.
With a trembling hand, he grabbed her wrist and read what her bangle had for her forbidden action.
"Passing the Fourth Time Limit With Makoto Naegi Alive."
Makoto's mouth was left wide open, dred and in disbelief, cracking just a few sounds that barely resembled that of his normal voice as some tears threatened to leave out of his eye sockets.
Aoi was horrified, crying. Her hand brought to her mouth to contain herself as much as she could.
–"This…" Makoto mumbled. "This isn't happening…"
–"B-But she knew this was the fourth time limit!" Aoi cried out, more tears falling off of her face.
Makoto's heart twisted and turned in ways he… he couldn't bear with.
–"...Why…" He asked.
Why…
–"Y-You could've… WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY SOMETHING?!"
He lowered his head in shame. He had… failed her…
–"Kirigiri…"
–"Kyoko!"
–"Not… her…"
Makoto, Aoi and Ryota were filled with grief over her death. This was… This was something they didn't expect. Could they have done things differently? Could they have saved her?
Had… Had Kyoko told him about her forbidden action, then Makoto could have… he could've…
–"Makoto Neagi." Another voice resounded through the headquarter's speakers all around the facility.
–"If you are awake, I assume you've discovered what Kirigiri's forbidden action was."
This was none other than Kyosuke Munakata. Only him, Makoto, Aoi and Ryota were still alive…
–"Do you understand now? Do you see the truth? Your platitudes are useless." He said with an invisible frown that the three of them could feel, but there was nothing they could do now…
–"It's time to cast them aside. Time to settle once and for all whose hope is real." He challenged him, much like how it's been alluded to go like all this time.
–"Yours or mine."
The speakers died right there, and they were once again left with silence.
Makoto couldn't believe how Kyoko could… willingly let herself to die for him….
This was… This was all because of…
Because of…
–"Whatever happens next, promise not to turn your back on hope." Her voice echoed in his ears.
–"I'm on your side, don't ever forget that."
…
…
…
Makoto tightened his fists as he fought against his tears, in order to stay strong. Strong for her.
These games have been going on for far too long.
It's time to stop them.
The killing game had ended.
It finally did…
But…
It just couldn't end like that, could it?
This game, the "murders", the bangles, the abduction, EVERYTHING!
It was all of Tengan's scheme.
They had all believed that it was a work from the Remnants of Despair, that the mole that killed them, was one that worked alongside them.
They were wrong.
There was no mole.
Tengan had it all planned out.
He orchestrated this killing game taking advantage of how Makoto had kidnapped the Remnants to seed doubts and force the branches to fight with one another. A game where, not even Tengan was guaranteed to survive, as he perished long ago by Munakata's hand.
But… that didn't matter to the mastermind of this game as… it was all intended…
It was all intended for…
–"I'm putting a stop to this."
–"Once and for all, it's time I did the right thing."
…for Ryota to snap out.
Ryota was the one responsible of creating the video that Junko used to brainwash the population into committing massive suicide, or turning people like Class 77-B into the Remnants of Despair. It was because of him, and all because… he wanted to produce his own anime. One where he could make people feel happy, and strong, and HOPEFUL of what they saw and the things they could do, but Junko used him to do the exact opposite.
And Ryota had enough. Enough of him running away. Enough of him cowardly hiding. Enough of him being a failure.
Enough of causing despair.
So he would brainwash the entire world, just like how Junko did with despair, but this time, with hope.
No one will suffer. No one will be in pain.
No one will despair.
That was Mitarai's goal now.
And he was getting closer and closer to get it.
–"Ow!"
–"S-Sorry, Asahina-san, but I need to tie this tightly."
–"I know just… eeeeeeh." She whimpered in pain again.
After the killing game ended, armed forces managed to arrive in order to rescue the Future Foundation Branch Heads.
But most of them were dead now.
Instead, they found Ryota, who used the brainwashing video on them in order to prevent Makoto and Aoi from stopping his plans.
Because of this, they now had armed forces trailing behind them.
And Aoi got shot.
Thankfully, she was hurt in her leg, so no permanent and hopefully no irreversible damage was dealt to her. They had closed themselves in a utility closet to hide in order to heal Asahina's wound.
Makoto was… no expert on this field, but at the very least, he could avoid her getting an infection.
He wouldn't lose anyone else today… Not again.
Only over his cold dead body he would allow that.
The brunette tried his best to tend his friend's wound.
To which, she was having a very worried look of what was to come. She knew that time was racing against them. She couldn't drag Makoto down…
–"Naegi…"
–"Don't try to talk, just… save your energy." Makoto kept tugging on the bandages he was preparing for her leg, yet this didn't halt Asahina to speak her thoughts.
–"Leave me." That forced Makoto to stop and focus on her.
–"Stop him. Please… Before it's too late."
Makoto kept his eyes on her until he glanced down to her leg once more.
She noticed this.
–"I'm okay." She said, hiding her profuse sweating. "Go on…"
She shot him up the biggest smile she could muster.
–"I'll be here when you get back."
She said, trying to convince him. But she still noted his discomfort with leaving her behind.
–"Oh, and for once… I'll actually wait." She tried to pry some worry off of him, but like always, it didn't work.
Makoto didn't like this… He didn't like leaving Aoi alone. If he could, he would carry her until his legs gave no more…
But he knew that she was right… And in her place… he would say the exact same thing…
They have to stop Ryota.
He had to.
With gritting teeth, he unhanded her bandages and began to stand up.
–"Alright…" He said with a worried frown. "When I'm finished with Mitarai, we'll go and find you some proper help." He said, to which Aoi nodded with a fake smile, feigning strength.
Makoto could see through her, he knew how much she was hurting… But she was being so brave right now so they all could live in the world they once did in the past. He couldn't fail her now.
–"I'll be back." He said turning the doorknob. "I'll be back before you know it, Hina!"
Hearing her nickname, the pain subsided for just a moment, as a smile crept on her features. When he called her like that it made her feel so happy…
Just as Makoto left the door, Aoi plummeted against the wall behind her. Finally letting go of her tough act for him.
Makoto always was more confident when those around him were as well…
She didn't regret a thing, but at least, she wouldn't be a burden to him now.
With her eyelids rapidly closing for her to drift to dreamland, one last thought crossed her mind.
"Please… Makoto… Return safely to me…"
"And then… I'll…" She fell unconscious, not resisting the pain, weakly breathing air and exhaling.
Ryota finally reached the broadcasting studio to get his Hope Video uploaded.
30 Minutes.
Once those thirty minutes passed, his video would be broadcasted to the whole world, and Despair will never be a thing on mankind's hearts.
Even if Humanity might not be able to grief, even if humans fail to connect with people just like how they do today, at the very least, every single person in the world will something that will never be ripped apart from them.
Hope.
And that hope will lead them on, will help them move forward.
That hope will make them try new things, take chances, do the right thing. And it will end all malice. With hope, you can overcome anything. And EVERYONE will have hope.
Everyone will overcome anything they'll be thrown at!
It's worth the shot!
It's worth the opportunity of fixing all of his past mistakes.
This one moment will balance things out.
He won't be the kid that helped plummet the world in despair. He'll be the one that fought against it and made it rise in hope once more.
This will work. It has to be!
For everyone, everyone that has dies for his fault. For everyone that has been brainwashed by his fault. For everyone that has been hurt for his fault. This is for all of them! For a better future! For a better world, one where no one has to suffer. No one has to dread. Even if it all becomes artificial, everyone will hold onto hope!
And that's going to be enough.
–"MITARAI!"
Ryota's eyes widened at the voice.
How? How did he get here?
How was he so fast?
How did he get past his guards?!
–"You have to listen to me!" Makoto Naegi shouted from the entrance. He walked right in, and stood in the same bridge that he did.
–"H-How…. How did you–"
–"Mitarai! You have to understand! This is… This is all wrong!"
Ryota gritted his teeth. He had told him. He had told him twice before.
Human beings are weak.
Infinitely susceptible to despair.
The despair in our hearts define us.
And it does until it becomes a part of us.
Until it becomes EVERYTHING about us.
How can he not see?
He's supposed to be an average man, one that you could find anywhere. On the street, on the markets, on the movie theatres.
How does someone so normal, have such abnormal strength of will?!
Just how?!
–"You don't get it!" He shouts. "Someone like you will never get it!"
–"Then try me, Mitarai! What will I never get?"
Ryota gritted his teeth in frustration.
–"Not everyone is strong like you. Not everyone has the drive to look forward to another day. Some of us want things to end. Some of us seek escape to distract the problems that plague our lives." He began.
–"Some of us hate living. Some of us hate being alive! Some of us hate bringing someone else to life!" He brought his hands fists together, before pumping out one big scream.
–"How can you tell someone to hold out for hope, when they so clearly live in despair?! Tell me!"
The Ultimate Hope stood quiet at his words. It seemed like he was impressed by them.
Ryota continued though.
–"It's not fair. Life is not fair. I wanted to do good things for the people, but I ended up assisting in the most evil, most atrocious, most horrifying event in mankind! How am I supposed to live after that?"
Ryota stared at the former 78th class student, who with the blink of an eye, prepared an answer to him.
–"You move forward."
This again…
–"You don't let your past define you. You don't let your mistake shape the way you are!" He insisted. He insisted for dear life.
–"There's no success without failure, Mitarai! No one is spotless!"
The Ultimate Animator scoffed at that.
–"I didn't just fail, Naegi! I betrayed the world! I betrayed my friends! My sins are… far too big…"
–"No sin is far too big!" Makoto said. "Not when your heart desires you to change."
Ryota confusedly shook his head.
–"And I'm supposed to believe you? Am I supposed to believe in how everyone will forgive me? That nothing I did will go unpunished? Even when I deserve to?"
That made Makoto stumble over his words a little, but he didn't hesitate.
–"This is not about forgiveness, Ryota! This is about doing the right thing!"
Ryota averted his eyes from him, forcing them into a deadlock.
Ryota glanced at the counter behind him. 7 minutes. It's taking far too long!
He turned back to Makoto, aiming to make more time.
–"T-The right thing, is to get rid of ALL despair! I have the power of doing that! Isn't that what you fight for?!"
Makoto shook his head. That's not the point of hope.
–"Hope is not about believing that there's a new day tomorrow! Hope is about believing in the best of us!" He brought his fist to his chest.
–"It's when you are turning over a leaf! It's when we forgive someone that has wronged us! It's when we wish for our children to have better lives than us, and for our grandparents to have a comfortable end! Hope is not antagonizing despair! Hope is beating the odds over despair! And not just hope winning over despair, I mean things like Hope to endure a bad home. Hope to discover who you truly are! Hope to find that special someone to spend your life with! Hope to become the best version of yourself!"
Ryota couldn't believe his ears, Makoto was… Makoto was… always this gung-ho?
–"It's about being you, and people liking you for being you! It's about believing in someone's words when they say that they'll fix it, or that they'll do the right thing! And it's about trusting that someone else that thwy will do the right thing. For you. For everyone."
Then, decided, Makoto took a step forward.
–"We didn't know each other for much, Ryota! But I know you are not a bad person!" He said as he took another step forward.
–"Stop."
–"Your dream is amazing! I've had friends with great dreams, but yours is so selfless! I wish to believe that one day, you'll accomplish it!"
Stop
–"S-Stop…"
Another step.
–"And I know that you aren't ignorant to what you are doing! You might give everyone immunity to being sad, but having everyone live a lie is not the way! You steal every human being what makes a human being! Our feelings! Our brain works in many ways! We cry, we joy, we shout, we think, we stress, we plan, we fail, we learn and we succeed! That's what makes us human! That's what hope is all about!"
SSSTOOOOPP
–"D-Don't' come any closer!"
But he steps up again.
–"Just listen to me, Ryota! We can do this together! I know we can!"
He took one final step that lead to Makoto be just inches away from Ryota. If Makoto was the type of guy to take someone down, he could tackle Ryota down and stop the broadcasting himself.
But he wasn't like that. And Ryota knew that.
Makoto was genuinely trying to reach out to him…
But…
He could never understand!
He was the ULTIMATE HOPE for crying out loud!
How does someone like that know what's like to have no hope for yourself?! Just how could he?
–"Stop right there." Ryota warned with a shift in his tone. But Makoto pressed forward.
–"Yes. Let's stop this right here! We can both save this world by rebuilding it!" He said, as he reached out a hand to Ryota. "Don't you agree Mita–"
–"I SAID DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!
Ryota's voice cracked as he stumbled back, his hand darting beneath his blouse. For a moment, Makoto paused, confusion flickering across his face. Then, Ryota pulled it out. A handgun. It was clumsy in his grip, his trembling fingers barely holding it steady, but the barrel was unmistakably aimed at Makoto.
Makoto's eyes widened, his outstretched hand freezing mid-air. Slowly, he raised both hands in compliance, his expression shifting from surprise to calm and much less intense.
–"Ryota…" he began, his tone gentle, unshaken.
Ryota's breaths were erratic now, his chest heaving with every word. The gun shook in his hands, betraying his lack of control. He took a step back, the sweat on his forehead glistening under the harsh light of the room.
–"You don't get it! You'll never get it!" His voice cracked, louder this time, as if shouting would drown out the turmoil in his mind.
Makoto took a careful step forward, his hands still raised.
–"Ryota, please. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help. Whatever it is you're feeling, I know we can figure it out together."
–"Shut up!" Ryota barked, his voice rising an octave, almost a whimper. His finger trembled near the trigger. "You think you know what it's like to be me? To be this powerless? To watch everything you care about burn because you couldn't stop it?" His eyes glistened with tears, his lip quivering as he tried to steady the gun. "How could you—someone who's never plummeted to despair—ever understand that kind of despair?"
Makoto didn't flinch. Instead, he took another slow step forward, his voice as steady as his gaze.
–"You're right, Ryota. I don't know how you feel exactly. But I know what it's like to think there's no way out. To feel like the weight of the world is crushing you. And everyone around you is out to get you."
Ryota hesitated, his grip on the gun faltering for just a moment. He shook his head violently, trying to block out Makoto's words.
–"No! Don't act like you're the same as me! You're the Ultimate Hope!"
Makoto's expression softened, his hands lowering slightly but still raised enough to show he wasn't a threat.
"Riyota, I'm… just a guy. Just like you. Being called 'hope' doesn't make me perfect. It doesn't make me invincible. I've been scared, I've felt lost, and I've made mistakes. But I believe we can move past them. Together."
–"Together?" Ryota repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the word itself was foreign.
–"Yes." Makoto said, taking another step closer, causing Riyota to raise his handgun higher, yet it didn't stop him. His voice was warm, inviting, free of judgment. "You don't have to do this alone, Ryota. Put the gun down, and let's figure this out. Please."
Ryota's arm wavered, the barrel dipping slightly as his resolve fractured. The tears he'd been holding back finally spilled over, streaking his cheeks. But even as he cried, he tightened his grip again, raising the gun back toward Makoto's chest.
–"You… You're lying!" Ryota shouted, his voice breaking. "You can't save this world! No one else can!"
Makoto held his ground, unflinching.
–"That's not true. The world isn't beyond saving, Ryota. It's not perfect, but it's worth fighting for. And so are you."
Ryota's breathing hitched, his mind spiraling in chaos. The weight of the gun in his hand felt unbearable now, but he couldn't bring himself to lower it. Not yet. Not when the voices in his head screamed at him that Makoto couldn't possibly understand, couldn't possibly be right.
Makoto's voice cut through the storm in Ryota's mind like a beacon.
–"Please, Ryota. Let me help you. You don't have to be alone in this."
Ryota's finger twitched near the trigger, his tears blurring his vision. His voice was barely audible now, a trembling whisper.
–"I… I don't know what to do…"
Makoto took one final step forward, his hands just inches from Ryota's trembling frame.
–"Then trust me…"
With both palms still raised, Makoto began to move extremely slow. It put Ryota on edge, much more than he had ever been before. Not even his strict work schedule or the oppressive deadlines he imposed on himself made his heart feel like it was clawing up into his throat the way it did now, holding Makoto at gunpoint.
Makoto took baby steps, his movements deliberate and steady, each one calculated to keep Ryota from panicking further. His left hand shifted, moving down from its raised position. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, his open palm morphed into an underhanded gesture, an invitation. He extended his arm slightly, palm up, the back of his hand facing the floor. It was a gentle, non-threatening offer, one that carried no sudden movement.
His right hand remained raised, still in compliance, not daring to twitch. Makoto didn't even glance at the trembling barrel of the gun pointed at him. All his focus was on Ryota's face—on the anguish, fear, and desperation twisting his features.
–"Ryota," Makoto's voice was a quiet plea, trembling only slightly, though Ryota could tell Makoto was scared too. "Hand over the gun. Please. You don't have to do this."
Makoto's left hand was now barely a few inches from the gun, but he made no move to snatch it. He wouldn't. That wasn't who he was. He wouldn't take the chance of hurting Ryota, or of escalating things further.
Ryota's grip on the gun tightened as he stared into Makoto's eyes. His hands shook violently, the gun wobbling in his grip.
–"S-Stop… Stop trying to talk like you know me!" His voice cracked, his breathing rapid and uneven. "You're… you're just trying to make me look pathetic!"
–"I'm not," Makoto said softly, his voice unwavering despite Ryota's outburst. "I'm trying to help you. That's all I've ever wanted, Ryota. To help you, to help everyone, because… because no one deserves to face this kind of despair alone."
Before Ryota could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall behind them. Makoto glanced over his shoulder for a split second, and Ryota's eyes followed instinctively. From the shadows emerged familiar faces—ones Ryota recognized immediately.
Class 77-B.
Tsumiki Mikan, Ibuki Mioda, Mahiru Koizumi, Peko Pekoyama, Hiyoko Saionji, Nagito Komaeda, Sonia Nevermind, Gundam Tanaka, Kazuichi Soda, Akane Owari, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu, Nekomaru Nidai, Teruteru Hanamura…
Even his best friend, The Ultimate Imposter…. and then their leader.
…Hajime Hinata… Or Izuru Kamakura… Their pupils merged to form one heterochromatic person inside Hajime's body.
Everyone was here.
The former Remnants of Despair, now free of Junko's influence, stood at the entrance to the room. Their expressions were a mix of concern, guilt, and hope as they took in the scene before them. Ryota's knees almost buckled at the sight of them.
–"No…" he whispered, his voice trembling. His eyes darted between the group and Makoto. "You… You brought them here?!"
Makoto had turned to see behind them, shock evident in his eyes, but he quickly turned his gaze back to Ryota, his hands still raised in that calming gesture.
–"N-No, Ryota, listen to me. They're here because they care about you. They want to help you—"
–"LIAR!" Ryota's shout echoed off the walls. Tears streamed down his face now, unchecked and uncontrollable. The gun wavered in his hands, but he held it steady enough to aim at Makoto's chest. "You just… You just wanted them to see me like this, didn't you?! To humiliate me?! To prove how weak I am?!"
–"No, Ryota," Makoto said firmly, taking a careful step closer. His voice was calm, but his eyes brimmed with urgency. "That's not true. No one here thinks you're weak. No one here wants to hurt you. They're your friends. They just want to help—"
–"SHUT UP!" Ryota's voice broke, his finger twitching on the trigger. The sound of gasps filled the room as Class 77-B hesitated to move, unsure of what to do. Ryota's breathing grew more frantic, his entire body trembling like a leaf in a storm.
–"They are not my friends! They never were! We never met, we never talked, I only stood hidden away from everyone…"
Makoto gulped down some saliva as he bravely took one more step, his left hand now just inches away from the gun.
–"Ryota, please—"
In his panic, Ryota turned the gun toward the entrance, aiming shakily at the group of former Remnants.
–"Stay back! Don't come near me! Don't—don't look at me like that!" His voice cracked, raw and desperate. His arms shook so violently that the barrel of the gun wavered, but it was unmistakably aimed at them.
And in that moment, Makoto moved.
–"No!"
Makoto lunged forward, stepping directly into the gun's path. His hands reached out, not to grab the weapon, but to shield those behind him. The motion startled Ryota, and his finger slipped on the trigger.
BANG
The sound of the gunshot rang out like a thunderclap.
Time seemed to freeze at that moment. Multiple gasps escaped from their mouths as they stared in horror. Ryota's hands trembled like no tomorrow as his mouth fell open.
–"N-N-No… th-this…"
Makoto staggered, his eyes instinctively glanced downwards slowly. He saw how a pool of blood was quickly revealing itself out to the world to see, dripping down from his now stained undershirt, quickly dying it red. The force of the shot drove him back half a step, his features twisting in pain while his knees buckled before he collapsed to the ground. Standing on his knees, he clutched his chest, trying to keep the blood from coming out. His breath morphed into desperate gasps for air as he barely held himself from falling altogether. Everyone stood paralyzed before the "Ultimate Hope", witnessing how he slowly bled out.
With the last of his strength, he raised his head towards the Ultimate Animator, seeing how his face contorted in anguish and guilt. Then, Makoto moved his left hand that he had been clutching his chest with, and extended it to him.
His palm was now crimson, dirtied with all of his own blood, but he still held it out for him.
–"It's…not… too… late…"
He gasped out before he fell forwards, harshly striking his head against the cold floor.
–"MAKOTO!"
The cry came from multiple voices at once. Ryota dropped the gun instantly, his eyes wide with horror as he stared at what he'd done.
–"No… no, no, no… I didn't mean to… I didn't…" He fell to his knees, his entire body shaking as he clutched his head in his hands. "W-What have I done?!"
Class 77-B rushed forward, some toward Makoto, others toward Ryota. Mikan was the first to reach Makoto, with her talent as the Ultimate Nurse she would try everything to save him. Her trembling hands pressed down on the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. Blood seeped between her fingers, staining them red.
"N-No! Naegi! Stay with us!" she pleaded, her voice cracking. "W-We'll get you help, okay? J-Just hang on!"
Makoto's breathing was shallow now, his chest rising and falling with difficulty. His eyes fluttered open, focusing on Mikan and the others who crowded around him. A faint, weak smile tugged at his lips.
–"I… I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I… couldn't… save…"
"Don't say that!" Kazuichi shouted, his voice breaking. "You're gonna be fine! You'll see!"
Right then, Hajime joined Mikan. He now held every talent under his possession. The two of them could save him together!
–"Stay with me, Makoto! You aren't Ultimate Hope for nothing, are you?!"
But Makoto's eyelids grew heavier, his body weaker with each passing second. His gaze shifted to Ryota, who was still on his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
–"Ryota…" Makoto's voice was faint, almost a breath, but he still heard him. "You can still… make things right…"
And with that, his eyes closed, his body going still.
The room was silent, save for the sound of Ryota's broken sobs.
–"So you guys are okay then?" Aoi asked, her voice tinged with relief as she scanned the room in the safety of the troops coming to her aid.
–"Hah! Yeah, of course! Though Togester got the worst of it." Hiro replied, scratching the back of his head with an awkward laugh.
–"I'll thank you to keep your mouth shut." Togami snapped, adjusting his tie sharply as he glared at Hiro.
–"Where's… Naegi?" Aoi's voice faltered, her brow furrowing as she looked between them.
The Togami heir's eyes widened, his usual composure cracking slightly.
–"You mean he's not with you?" Togami asked, his tone now in edge.
Aoi's breath hitched, her hands clenching tightly at her sides.
–"He went ahead to stop Mitarai. Y-You haven't seen him?" she asked, her words trembling with growing dread.
Byakuya shook his head stiffly, while Hiro rubbed his neck with a worried frown. Their silence only made the weight of her question sink deeper.
–"Oh man. He will be alright, right? Didn't you already send some of your troops to the broadcast? Why don't you ask them?"
Byakuya frowned at the possibilities, but he pressed on regardless, bringing a hand to his headset.
–"State your status, over."
–"Sir! It appears that the opposition is beginning to thin out."
Byakuya was, for one of the few times, surprised with his men's report.
–"You're kidding me."
–"No sir! The enemy forces are dwindling! We got some unexpected backup!"
Neither Aoi or Hiro could hear Byakuya's communication, the Ultimate Swimmer asked the heir about what he heard.
–"What'd he say?"
–"It must be the 77th class…"
–"What?" She said out loud.
–"They came to our aid when we were trapped beneath the rubble of Foundation Headquarters." He explained to her. "And evidently, Izuru Kamakura is leading them. Seems he single handedly restored our former upperclassmen to the side of hope."
–"Aaah… Then that means that Naeggs is fine, right?! Isn't that Kamakura guy supposed to be some Dos Ecks Machine or something?"
–"Deus Ex Machina, you fool." He frowned to the former Ultimate Clairvoyant. However, he couldn't leave what he said hanging. "With Luck, they probably are with him as we speak then. And we know how he fares with his luck." He said with a smile, hopeful of this battle to finally be over.
Aoi however… was not… She… his words about Class 77th being reformed and showing up to help, while good news to consider…
It didn't ease her just yet.
She needs to see her luckster again with her two eyes to stay calm.
–"L-Let's go!" She tried standing up, only to immediately fall on her step.
–"H-Hey! Girl, take it easy! You can't move anywhere like that!" Hiro tried to reason, but Aoi wouldn't give in.
–"We have to go! If we can, we should help him!" She then turned to the Ultimate Affluent Progeny. "You know I'm right, Togami!"
His smile faltered, as his more grounded part of himself showed up once more.
He understood her words. And, if anyone but her had said those words, he wouldn't have flinched just now.
Makoto's hope was infectious. They all were gifted with it to trust in each other.
And Aoi… She wasn't having any of that…
That worried him now.
He turned to some of his men.
–"You! Escort us to the Broadcast Studio. The rest stay and secure the perimeter."
–"Yes sir!" His commanded squad replied and followed his orders, moving ahead to lead them on.
Meanwhile, both Byakuya took hold of the Ultimate Swimmer, placing one of her arms on his shoulder.
–"You can't go anywhere like that. We do this together."
–"Right!" She said with a little smile.
Hiro however, wasn't very fond of the idea.
–"Are you two crazy?! Are you seriously planning to head straight to there! It's madness out there, you could get killed!"
–"Yeah! But so did Naegi! We have to find him!" Aoi shouted, causing Hiro to have a double take.
After all, Hiro was nothing but a hindrance to Naeggs… And now, he cowered behind while he was in danger, and his friends confidently went after him?
…No. Not anymore! No matter what fate says, and no matter the odds! He will not stay idle.
–"Alright, Alright!" He said, quickly scurrying to place himself below Aoi's opposite arm to help the blonde heir carry her. "We do this together, just like you said! For Naegi-chi!"
Finally ready, and wishing to not waste any more time, they marched right on following their escort.
This ends today.
And all of them will walk away from this.
Together.
–"Check his vitals." Hajime, or Izuru, however you preferred to call him, ordered the meek nurse, who could only grab his arm in order to check his pulse.
–"I-I-I-It's faint, b-but he's not dead yet! W-We have to stop the bleeding!"
–"I know." Hajime said as he ripped part of his own shirt trying to make a make-shift bandage.
They had NOTHING to work with, and with how fast Makoto was losing blood, if they didn't do anything here, they would lose him.
Ibuki crouched beside them, her usual energy replaced by uncharacteristic seriousness.
–"We need real supplies! Not just scraps and torn-up shirts!"
Mahiru darted to Ibuki's side, her camera long abandoned.
–"There's no time to run for help! We have to work with what we have!"
–"I-Ibuki can run fast! I-Ibuki can save Makoto-chan!"
Mikan, tears spilling freely down her cheeks, nodded as she took the makeshift bandage from Hajime. Her hands worked quickly, though they trembled with every move.
–"W-We need to elevate his legs to keep blood flow going… a-and keep applying pressure to the wound!"
Kazuichi jumped into action, taking hold of his legs and raising them just so slightly..
–"Like this?!"
–"Yes! Just hold it steady!" Mikan cried.
The others crowded around, their panic turning into grim determination as they worked together. Gundham stood silent, his hands gripping the edge of his scarf tightly as he muttered prayers under his breath. Sonia knelt beside him, clutching his arm for support, her expression etched with helplessness.
Meanwhile, Ryota sat frozen on the floor, the gun still in his shaking hands. His wide eyes were glued to Makoto, the realization of what he'd done sinking in like a blade to his chest.
–"Ryota!" Hajime's sharp tone snapped him out of his daze. "If you're just going to sit there, then get out of the way!"
Ryota flinched, guilt and anguish flashing across his face.
–"I… I didn't mean to… I-I…" His words dissolved into sobs.
–"Makoto needs you right now!" Hajime barked, his voice cutting through Ryota's breakdown. "He needs all of us! You want to make things right? Then help us save him!"
Ryota hesitated, his hands trembling uncontrollably, before finally nodding. Crawling forward, he placed the gun aside and pressed his hands onto the bandage, taking over from Hajime.
–"Keep the pressure steady," Hajime instructed, his voice softening slightly.
–"Don't let go, no matter what."
For a moment, there was a fragile sense of unity in the room. Everyone worked together, scrambling to save the one person who had brought them all back from despair. Blood seeped through the makeshift bandage, staining Ryota's hands red, but he didn't pull away.
Makoto's breathing was shallow, each rise and fall of his chest more labored than the last. His face had gone pale, his eyes fluttering closed. Mikan's voice cracked as she spoke.
–"H-He's losing too much blood… we're going to lose him if we can't stop it…"
Hajime's jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists.
–"We're not losing him." he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. But deep down, he knew the truth.
Makoto's lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to say something. His voice was barely audible, a whisper of breath that none of them could make out. And then, his chest rose one last time before falling still.
–"No… no, no, no!" Mikan sobbed, pressing her ear to his chest. She shook her head frantically. "H-He's gone… I… I couldn't…"
The room fell into stunned silence. Even Akane, who was normally so brash and fiery, sat frozen in disbelief. Tears streamed down Sonia's face as she clung to Gundham, who lowered his head in solemn respect.
Hajime stared down at Makoto's lifeless body, his hands frozen mid-action. For all his talents, for all his power, he couldn't save this one ordinary man—the one who had embodied hope despite having no Ultimate talent of his own. His hands clenched tightly into fists, trembling with frustration and despair.
The faint hum of the broadcast timer ticking down suddenly pierced the stillness. The monitor displayed the countdown, its numbers dwindling.
–"Damn it…" Hajime muttered, his eyes locking onto the screen. His mind raced, trying to grasp for some semblance of a solution. He turned toward Ryota, about to call out to him, to force him into action.
But Ryota was already moving.
Without a word, he staggered to his feet, his legs shaking as though they would collapse beneath him. His eyes were red and swollen, his face pale and streaked with tears. He stumbled toward the console, his every step heavy with grief and guilt.
–"Ryota…" Hajime said, his voice faltering. For all his talents, he couldn't even do one thing right.
Ryota reached the console and stared at the timer, his hands hovering above the controls. His chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath, his thoughts spiraling. He had wanted to save everyone. He had wanted to spread hope. But he had killed the very person who had embodied it.
–"I… I'm sorry…" Ryota whispered, his voice trembling as his tears fell onto the console. "I'm so sorry…"
With shaking hands, he input the override commands, and with one falling fist, the countdown halted. With its red screen fading to blue. With only 00:00:04:44 seconds remaining, the broadcast of the Hope Video was halted, terminated definitely, grazing everyone of a fate where life held no meaning other than Hope.
Ryota collapsed to his knees in front of the console, his sobs wracking his body.
–"I… I wanted to make it right… but… but I just couldn't…" His voice broke, and he buried his face in his hands. "Makoto… I'm so sorry… I'm so- so sorry…"
Hajime stood frozen, his heart sinking into an abyss of helplessness. For all his Ultimate abilities, for all his intellect and strength, he had failed. He could only watch as Ryota fell apart, as despair gripped the room once more.
And yet, as Hajime's gaze fell on Makoto's still form, a single thought lingered in his mind. "He wouldn't want this to end here."
But for now, all he could do was stand in the heavy silence, powerless to stop the overwhelming tide of grief.
Aoi could barely feel her legs. The pain in her side throbbed with every movement, but it felt distant—blurred, overshadowed by the numbness creeping through her chest. Hiro and Byakuya supported her on either side, their grips firm but careful as they carried her toward the studio entrance. She hated being this weak, hated relying on them, but the shame was fleeting. Something far heavier loomed ahead, making her stomach twist.
The doors creaked open, and the sight before her brought everything crashing down.
Her breath hitched sharply as her eyes spotted him headfirst.
Makoto's body—pale, still, lifeless… cradled in Nekomaru's arms. His head hung limp. Next to him, Hajime walked in tow, his hands dirtied with dried blood…
Class 77B moved in a solemn line, their expressions a mix of grief and exhaustion. But none of it mattered. None of them mattered. The world shrank until all Aoi could see was him.
–"No…" Her voice came out in a whisper, choked and strangled, as if saying it aloud might make it real. She tried to take a step forward, but her knees buckled. Hiro caught her, easing her down as she shook her head violently. "No, no, no! This—this isn't happening!"
Her hands clutched at Hiro's shirt as her body trembled uncontrollably. Tears blurred her vision, but she refused to look away. She couldn't. Her chest burned as though the air itself had turned to fire.
–"Makoto!" she cried, her voice breaking. "He—he can't… he can't be…"
The words wouldn't come. Nothing could explain the yawning chasm in her heart or the way the world suddenly felt cold and hollow. She sobbed openly, her fingers curling into fists against Hiro's chest. Somewhere, she registered his voice—soft, shaky, trying to comfort her—but the words slid past her like water through her fingers.
Byakuya stepped forward, silent as ever, and removed his coat. His movements were rigid, almost mechanical, but Aoi caught the faintest tremor in his hand as he draped the fabric over Makoto. It covered him fully, hiding his face from view, and something inside her shattered.
–"No!" she gasped, her hand reaching out instinctively. "Don't—don't cover him! I… I need to see…" Her voice faltered, the rest of her sentence crumbling into a desperate sob. Hiro knelt beside her, his arms steadying her as she shook her head over and over again.
Byakuya turned sharply, his expression unreadable, though his voice held an edge of unspoken grief.
–"He deserves dignity," he said quietly, as if forcing the words past a lump in his throat. "After everything he's done… it's the very least we can do…'"
Aoi's fingers fell limply to her lap. She knew he was right. She knew it. But it didn't make the sight any easier. It didn't stop the ache clawing at her chest or the memories flooding her mind—his warm smile, his earnest laugh, the way his hand would linger a second longer than necessary when he patted her shoulder.
A fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks, hot and unrelenting. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd told him thank you or how much he'd meant to her. She'd always thought there would be time, that Makoto would always be there, always smiling, always—
–"He promised…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "He promised we'd get through this together! He promised that he would…"
No one replied. What could they say? Even Hiro, him with a loose jaw, was silent. His grip on her tightened slightly, a small gesture of solidarity.
Hajime spoke then, his voice hoarse and heavy.
–"We didn't mean for this. We… we tried to save him."
Aoi's head snapped up, her tear-streaked face glaring at him.
–"Then why couldn't you?" she spat, the words laced with venom she didn't mean. "As Hope's Peak's "Ultimate Hope" with every imaginable talent, why couldn't you…" Her words slowly died as she said them out loud.
She didn't wait for his answer, her gaze dropping back to Makoto. Her anger melted as quickly as it had come, replaced by a suffocating wave of guilt.
–"I… I didn't mean…"
She buried her face in her only free hand, muffling a broken sob. Hiro rested a hand on her shoulder, but it felt distant, like he was on the other side of a thick wall. She was drowning, and no one could pull her out.
The group began to move again, Class 77B carrying Makoto's body past them. Aoi's eyes followed every step, unwilling to let him go even as the distance grew. Her fingers twitched at her sides, wanting to reach out, to hold on, to stop them from taking him away. But she couldn't move. She could only sit there, trembling and broken, as the boy who had held their hope was carried away.
Hiro and Byakuya lifted her gently, her legs too weak to stand on their own. She leaned heavily on them, her gaze fixed on Makoto's shrouded form until it disappeared from view. The world around her felt unreal, like a nightmare she couldn't wake from.
As they trudged forward, her mind clung desperately to every memory of him, unwilling to let them slip away. And somewhere, buried beneath the weight of her grief, was a small, unspoken truth—one that she couldn't face yet. One that made her tears burn hotter and her chest ache more deeply than anything else.
She had loved him. And now, it was far too late.
He was never coming back to her.
The darkness was endless, vast, and cold, wrapping around Makoto like a suffocating shroud. He floated in it, weightless, untethered, his body fading into nothingness. He couldn't feel the pain anymore, but the ache in his heart remained.
Noise broke through the stillness, faint and distorted. It came in bursts—muffled voices—familiar yet incomprehensible. They rose and fell, panicked and desperate, but the words slipped through his grasp like water through his fingers.
"–fast… can… save him…"
"–steady pressure… blood…"
"–not losing him…"
He tried to reach for them, to make sense of the chaos, but it was slipping further away. The harder he tried to listen, the more distant it became.
Faces swam in his mind. Faces he knew, faces he loved. Some were still with him, their smiles warm, their strength unyielding. Others were gone—taken too soon. Sayaka. Chihiro. Sakura. Their memories cut through the fog like shards of glass, sharp and painful.
–"I'm sorry," he whispered into the void. "I wasn't strong enough to save all of you. I… I should have done more."
The faces shifted, and he saw the ones who still remained. Toko's fiery determination. Hiro's surprising loyalty. Byakuya's stoic resolve. And Aoi… her laughter, her endless optimism.
A lump formed in his throat. You all deserved better than me.
His chest ached as two faces came to the forefront of his thoughts—Aoi and Kyoko. Their smiles, so different yet so meaningful, lingered like a ghostly warmth in the void.
–"Hina… I'm sorry I didn't make it back to you." His voice wavered, barely audible in the emptiness. "I wanted to keep fighting… to see you smile again."
–"And Kyoko…" Her name caught in his throat, the weight of it almost too much to bear. "I'm sorry I couldn't keep my hope alive… But I hope I kept my promise on not turning my back on it."
The darkness shifted, and for a moment, he thought he heard her voice, faint and distant, but he couldn't make out the words.
He felt himself slipping further, the cold growing deeper. But in the vast expanse of nothingness, a small light flickered inside him—a warmth that refused to die.
"They're still alive. They'll be okay. They're stronger than I ever could be anyway..."
The guilt gnawed at him, but the hope was there too, fragile but unwavering. They would find a way forward, even without him.
The warmth grew, spreading through him, chasing away the cold. The voices around him faded into silence, replaced by peace.
With his last breath, Makoto let the light guide him, his thoughts on his friends, his regrets, and the hope that, somehow, everything would be okay.
And then, like a fleeting spark, he was gone.
He parted ways from this world caused so much despair to him. Hopefully leaving his hope behind for everyone to live with.
The air in the room felt heavy, the kind of oppressive stillness that came after the storm. Everything seemed dim, muted, as if the world itself had lost its luster. Hiro leaned back against the wall, bandaging his arm with shaky hands. Byakuya stood rigidly near the shattered doorway, his arms crossed but his face betraying more than he would ever admit.
Aoi sat apart from them, clutching the torn edge of her shirt against her wound shot. Her breathing was steady but shallow, and her gaze fixed on the cold, blood-speckled floor. Her blood. She didn't speak, didn't move. If she did, it might all come crashing down, and she didn't know if she could take it.
Makoto was gone. That simple, brutal truth hammered against her thoughts like a relentless tide.
The sound of footsteps snapped Aoi's attention toward the doorway. Her heart leapt, only to sink a moment later when she saw who it was.
Even if it surprised her, it didn't matter in the long run.
Kyoko Kirigiri stepped inside.
Her pale face was marred by exhaustion, her usually immaculate hair disheveled. Her gloved hands, her amethyst eyes… She was… alive… But she didn't stay idle, no, her eyes—those sharp, unyielding eyes—searched the room with a familiar, calculating urgency.
She had survived. Somehow, against all odds, Kyoko was alive.
–"I came as soon as I woke," she said, her voice steady but laced with concern. "What happened?"
No one spoke immediately.
Kyoko's gaze shifted between them, lingering on Aoi's injuries and the tension in Byakuya's posture. Her frown deepened.
–"Where's Makoto?"
Aoi froze. Her breath hitched, and her nails dug into the palm of her hand.
Kyoko's question hung in the air like an open wound.
Hiro, glancing toward Aoi with an uneasy expression, finally spoke.
–"He's… not here anymore."
Kyoko's sharp eyes narrowed.
–"What do you mean?"
Byakuya, ever blunt, stepped forward to speak up.
–"Makoto is dead," he said curtly.
The words hit Kyoko like a physical blow. She staggered, her hand tightening on the makeshift doorway that their tent was.
– "No…" she whispered, shaking her head. "That can't be true."
–"But it is…" Byakuya said, his voice softer now but no less heavy. "Mitarai killed him."
Kyoko's breath caught in her throat.
"M-Mitarai?" she echoed, the name barely audible. Her mind raced, the weight of what she'd just heard colliding with the memories of her time with Ryota in the Final Killing Game.
Her legs nearly gave out, but she steadied herself against the wall.
–"How?" she asked, though the word felt empty even to her "Why?!".
Byakuya was about to speak, only to be interrupted by Hina's dead voice.
–"Tengan was behind it all." She revealed, her words sharp as a knife to the gut. "And he made it so Mitarai would use his talent freely…"
–"Wh-What?" Kyoko could only ask, this case a complete mystery to her.
How… just how could he…
–"Mitarai was behind the brainwashing videos." Aoi explained. "And he made one to do the opposite of what Junko did…"
Kyoko's brow furrowed. Brainwashing videos? Was that how she turned Class 77B into the Remnants of Despair? And Mitarai helped her? But, he wasn't like that.
Was he?
She… She should have…
–"Mitarai felt responsible for… all of this…" Aoi raised her arms, referring to… well, the world around them. "And he wanted to… "Make Things Right" by doing the exact same thing Junko did…" She said, her voice laced with uncommon venom from her usual self…
Kyoko immediately noticed it. But there was one question nagging her.
–"But… How could… Why could Mitarai…?" It… It didn't make sense to her. Was she so off at reading him?
However… Aoi wouldn't reply. Her head turned away from Kyoko's.
–"He… He panicked," Hiro said, his voice quiet and strained. "He held a gun from… one of the soldiers that he brainwashed for self defense, but… Makoto… he got in the way to protect someone."
Aoi's head jerked up at that. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again, the words tangled in her throat. She wanted to scream, to shout at Kyoko, to demand why she hadn't been there. But she knew it wasn't fair. Kyoko hadn't chosen to leave them. She hadn't chosen to disappear.
To let Makoto die….
And yet, the ache in Aoi's chest didn't care about fairness.
–"I should have been there…" Kyoko murmured, her voice cracking under the weight of her grief. Her hands trembled, clenching into fists. "I should have been with him..."
–"You couldn't have known," Hiro said, though the words sounded hollow even as he said them.
But Kyoko shook her head. "I should have known."
Aoi's gaze burned into Kyoko now. Her voice was raw and uneven when she finally spoke those words in her mind.
–"Do you have any idea what he went through? What he did for us?"
Kyoko met Aoi's eyes, and the anguish in her expression was unmistakable.
–"He trusted you," Aoi continued, her voice trembling. "He trusted all of us. And now he's…" Her voice broke, and she turned away, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Kyoko stepped forward hesitantly, as though the weight of her own guilt held her back.
–"Aoi…" she began, her voice softer than it had ever been.
–"Don't," Aoi snapped, cutting her off. She didn't look back. "Just… don't…" she weakly pleaded.
The room fell silent once more. Kyoko sank to her knees, her composure completely shattered. Tears slipped down her cheeks, the overwhelming grief breaking through her carefully maintained walls.
Byakuya turned his back to the group, his expression unreadable as he stared out to nowhere. Hiro slumped further against the wall, burying his face in his hands.
And Aoi stayed where she was, staring at the floor, the hollow ache in her chest consuming her.
Time passed. Finally, they have passed the end of the storm, and people say that time heals everything…
…Right?
Carrying many utilities, one Toko Fukawa was seen at the grounds of the new Hope's Peak Academy. With Future Foundation's fall, she was now free and no longer caged to do their dirty laundry as an "intern" for them.
WIth a satisfied exhale, she dropped the box she carried and stared at the sight of the multiple crates that were there.
They had started rebuilding the academy where they all had met, in hopes to rebuild this world back to it's former shape. Toko suffered a lot in her life during it, but now? She was hopeful for what laid ahead for them.
However, the sentiment wasn't shared with most…
At the corner of her eyes, she spotted a sulking girl, sitting on the ground. Her smile morphed to one of worry when spotting her.
She grabbed a bottle of water and made her way towards her.
–"H-H-Hey, H-How a-are you hol-l-lding?" She asked, her stuttering still present. Some things would never change.
She was greeted with one Komaru Naegi, raising her head a little to face her. She saw her wet eyelids, red from all the crying she did. Right now, her tears were starting to dry, but her pain didn't vanish away.
–"I'm… here… I guess…" She mumbled. The loss of her brother was a heavy toll for her.
Toko, albeit always feeling that way, felt uncomfortable seeing the girl besides her be so… turned off, all he joy gone and that characteristic cheer she had known her for this whole time… It was… bizarre.
The incorrect type of bizarre, mind you. There was no joy in seeing Komaru in this state.
–"L-Listen…" Toko began, trying to bravely follow after his words. "Y-Y-You know tha-thaat he wouldn't–"
–"SHUT UP!"
Toko's eyes widened at her shouting.
Then, she felt how she was shoved away from her.
–"Don't tell me what he WOULD or WOULDN'T want. What he WOULD or WOULDN'T do!" Her voice broke as she stood up to scream at the former Ultimate Literature Writer that now had her back against the ground.
–"Not you too…" She weakly left out. "Something I know, is that if there was ANYTHING that he WOULDN'T have wanted to, was to DIE."
Her dry tears began to flow again. Her torn heart no longer bearing what she was holding for so long.
–"He's… dead, Toko… He's dead and… And I couldn't do anything for him!"
Toko was quick to act, trying to refute what she said.
–"T-There was nothing you c-could have done, Komaru!" She shot back. "You can't blame yourself for it."
–"I know… And I no longer can…" She admitted. Toko's brow raised in question.
–"He did… Everything he could do for this world… Only for it to… to take him down with it…"
She turned on Toko as she slowly started to walk away.
–"Or at least, it tried to…" She murmured. "He ended up defying it to the very end…"
–"Komaru…" Toko could only whisper.
–"He's gone. And for as long as I know… He was the last family I had."
–"Th-That's not true!" Toko argued. "D-don't you r-remember what your brother s-said?! Monaca lied!"
However, her words fell on deaf ears.
–"What if she didn't?" She asked her… 'friend.'?
–"Wh-what?"
–"What if she didn't lie…" And then, she turned her head, glancing at Toko over her shoulder.
–"What if my brother lied?"
Toko wanted to argue. She wanted to dispel her quarrels. Wanted to tell her that he wouldn't lie to her.
But she couldn't.
Because deep down.
She understood.
Makoto never was once to lie. Not to his closer peers, specially to his little sister…
…But to carry someone's burden? To save them the anguish?
He was very capable of doing so.
–"What if Makoto lied about my parents still being alive, Toko?"
She didn't give her an answer. She didn't dare defy her.
–"...Figures…" Was all she said, before leaving Toko behind.
She didn't even dare to chase after her…
She felt…
Alone…
…
"Why…"
A tear began to fall from behind her glasses.
–"Why did you have to die, Makoto…?"
…
In another place. Near but far at the same time, stood the lavender haired girl, staring through a window at the two girls below her.
She couldn't hear them, she was too far, and the glass prevented her from hearing them.
But it wasn't like she needed to listen their words to know what they were talking about…
Komaru's grim look was all she needed…
Kyoko turned away from the window, both wishing to avoid looking at the only remaining Naegi to spare her heart and to adress the new presence in the classroom.
–"Vice principal?" She asked, staring at the doorway.
–"I'm… still not used to the title…" The new Vice principal said, a little embarrassed. "I honestly don't think I'm a good fit for this position…"
Kyoko gave a small smile at that, glad to still have some sense of familiarity after all.
–"Don' sell yourself short, Aoi." She said trying to ease her nerves. "I honestly wouldn't have anyone else."
In a sense… she was right. Byakuya wouldn't leave behind his position in the Togami family. Toko would help, but she wasn't gifted socially to handle this responsibility and Yasuhiro…
No mention of Hiro.
Aoi, now dressed in a formal attire again, weakly smiled at the newly appointed Headmaster of Hope's Peak.
–"Th-Thank you, Kyoko but… we both know that there would be someone else that we both would rather have instead…" She said, gazing beyond her. And Kyoko knew exactly what she was talking about.
Kyoko turned around, seeing all the desks the room had. There were some behind them but, there was one that highlighted itself for the both of them.
It was just a normal desk. Identical to every other. Not a semblance of uniqueness to tell it apart from the rest .
Yet.. they both knew whose desk it was.
And it hurt them.
It hurt them both so much.
Aoi fought back her tears all she could, but she still left her soul out to her.
–"I know that… It's been a while now… I know it, but, I…"
Kyoko sat on one of the chairs as she invited Aoi to join her. They sat down together, with one empty chair of distance between them. Specifically, the very same chair they had been gazing at just now.
–"You can't let go?" The former detective asked. "You can't… forget him?"
–"Yeah…"
And, after a long time, this would be the first time that she would be spilling how she felt.
–"He was… he was special." Aoi admitted, to which the lavender solemnly nodded.
–"He was." She agreed. "He absolutely was."
–"You know… He… We always thought that you two would have made a great item…"
The headmaster avoided her eyes, keeping her mouth silent for a moment as she heard her say that…
–"...You think?"
–"...Yeah…" The former swimmer admitted. "You two were… thick as thieves I think it's how people say?"
–"We all were…" The headmaster smiled. BIttersweet, but a smile nonetheless. "And it was all thanks to him."
They both turned yet again at the empty chair. Missing his presence.
–"I'm…" Aoi muttered out, breaking Kyoko's line of sight with the seat. Once she stared at the brunette, did she continue to speak. "I'm sorry…"
–"For what?"
–"For what I said back then…" Aoi avoided the detective's eyes, even if they had dulled from their usual sharpness of before. "I didn't… I did stop to consider your feelings but… I told you off like I did."
Kyoko blinked at her words. She was a little surprised, but not very bothered by the memory.
Her words couldn't hurt. She couldn't injure her any more than what she was.
–"It's… It's nothing, Aoi…" She tried to wave it off. "It's water under the bridge now." Kyoko hoped for Aoi to calm down, to not overthink it.
But she just couldn't. She stayed in silence after that.
Kyoko didn't like seeing her like that, so she tried to do something she didn't like at times, breaking the ice.
But Aoi deserved it.
–"You know what I think?" Kyoko said out of nowhere, getting her attention.
–"What?"
She gave her a little smile.
–"I also think that you two would have made a great item."
Aoi's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed red. Caught completely off guard by her words.
–"I-I… I don't know what you're talking about!" She tried to plead her case, but to her misfortune, She was the Ultimate Detective.
–"Come on, Aoi… It's obvious…" She humoredly pointed up.
Covering her face with her hands, she opened her fingers for her eyes to peek.
–"...R-Really…?"
–"Yeah. I wouldn't be surprised if the whole class knew…"
Beet red and steam leaving her head, she plummetted over her desk in complete embarrassment.
The headmaster decided to lift some of the heat up right then.
–"Being honest… at one point I suspected that every girl in our class had a thing for Makoto at one point."
Aoi suddenly skyrocketed to face her.
–"R-REALLY?" With her eyes so wide, they comically left her eye sockets. She had her suspicion on people like Maizono and, even her late best friend for a certain time.
–"Yeah… And somehow, he didn't ever realize…"
Aoi had a small grin on her face about it.
–"That… sounds like Makoto…"
–"It does…" Kyoko too smiled.
Aoi couldn't help but ask the detective.
–"But who… well, how did you notice?"
And Kyoko began.
–"To start… Maizono and Makoto always were close since they knew each other from middle school. The type of crush you see on middle schoolers to this day, if you asked me."
Aoi nodded.
–"You were painfully obcious from the start. Fukawa began acting… strangely around him after a while and, after I… came to terms with how I felt around him, Celeste began challenging me. I suspected she always liked him considering how fast she was to ditch Yamada with Makoto as her… 'knight'" Kyoko made that part very clear with her two hands making the quotations sign.
And she was STILL not over.
–"Ikusaba was… Ikusaba around Makoto, if that makes sense."
–"It doesn', go on."
–"And lastly, before… Kenshiro died, I started to notice these… glances of regret on Ogami's face at times when she saw Makoto or… When she saw you with him…"
Now that… that felt rough… Aoi tried to deny how she believed that Sakura could also feel the same way she did for their resident lucky student but… this? While she never knew?
It was heartbreaking.
–"...wow…"
–"Wow indeed… And I didn't even get past the annoying part."
Aoi wondered what that meant but… she couldn't help but ask.
–"Hey, Kyoko… if you think that… Ikusaba felt something for him… do you…"
Kyoko eyed her when she stpoped, but immediately followed suit after.
–"...do you think Junko could have felt that way too?"
Impossible.
Is what she would have liked to answer.
There would be no logic. NONE at all for her to like Makoto.
She absolutely despised him, and Kyoko even wondered at times if Makoto ever started to resent her.
But like, like him?
No way in earth, right?
…
…
–"Tsk."
Shit.
–"H-Huh?" Aoi murmured confused.
When you think about it, she was who claimed to love despair. That she embraced feeling and being in despair.
And what could possibly bring more despair to her…?
…
…
…
Enough thinking. She was NOT going through that rabbit hole.
She stood up, surprising the swimmer.
–"L-Let's… Let's go Aoi… we have work to do…"
–"R…Right…"
Aoi felt that she had stepped on a landmine.
Thankfully, it wasn't on the one she had feared the most.
However, one last thing came to mind. One last lump she wanted to ask to her friens.
–"Hey… Kyoko?
–"Yeah?" She stopped right before leaving the classroom.
–"Do you think we'll ever see him again?"
Her question threw her off a mile… Any sensible human would know that there's nothing after death.
But… her eyes…
She felt like she was pleading for her to say yes. Pleading to not forever live with a broken heart.
Kyoko thought it well, and while there was no sound nor reason for her to believe they ever would see their beloved luckster once more.
She replied with.
–"...Perhaps… if we are lucky."
And that…
That sliver of hope for them to hold on to.
That… was enough for them…
The hum of medical machinery filled the sterile room, punctuated by faint beeps and the occasional murmurs of two scientists. They loomed over the infant in the incubation pod, their scouters clicking faintly as they registered the baby's power level.
The smaller of the two, a wiry black haired human-like with a jagged scar across his chin, scowled at the results flashing across his lens.
–"...And with a power level of… one…" he muttered, voice laced with disdain. "What a waste."
His colleague, stout and older, crossed his arms and huffed.
–"Figures. Another weakling born to fill the ranks of low-class cannon fodder. He's no better than those runts they ship off to backwater planets."
The baby, cradled in the pod's warmth, gave a soft cry, oblivious to the judgment passed upon him. The younger scientist scoffed, tapping his scouter as if to confirm the reading wasn't an error.
–"Not even worth the trouble of checking twice. Let's log this and move on. What's his name again?"
–"Doesn't matter," the older one grunted, turning toward the door. "Not like he'll amount to anything."
The door hissed open, interrupting their conversation as Toma strode into the room. His presence was commanding, his armor scuffed and marked with the signs of countless battles, yet his sharp eyes carried an unusual warmth beneath their hard edges.
–"Is he ready?" Toma's voice was gruff, but there was a subtle tremor of anticipation as he approached the pod.
The scientists exchanged a glance, their earlier scorn now tempered by the warrior's arrival.
–"Congratulations," the older one said with a clipped tone. "It's a boy. But… don't expect much. His power level is—"
Toma raised a hand, silencing him.
–"I don't need a lecture. Just let me see him."
The scientists stepped aside, and Toma's gaze fell upon the infant for the first time. The baby's tiny form was bathed in the soft glow of the pod, his fragile hands reaching out toward nothing. Toma's expression remained stoic, almost indifferent, as he leaned closer.
But then… something shifted.
The moment his eyes met the child's, something deep within him stirred—a warmth, a spark, a feeling he couldn't quite place. The baby let out another soft cry, and Toma's hardened exterior cracked. His lips parted slightly, and his breath caught in his throat.
This tiny, weak, helpless being… was his son.
He reached out, his gloved hand trembling as he placed it gently against the pod's surface. The child's small fingers pressed against the glass in response, and Toma felt a surge of emotion unlike anything he'd ever known. It wasn't pride or disappointment. It was something purer, something that reached into the depths of his soul and pulled him into the light.
The scientists watched in silence, their earlier disdain forgotten as they observed the rare sight of a Saiyan warrior utterly captivated by his child.
Toma straightened, his expression softening into a rare smile.
–"He's… perfect," he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper.
–"Perfect?" the younger scientist muttered under his breath, incredulous.
Toma ignored him, his focus solely on the child.
–"His name… will be Tomako." he declared, his voice firm now, filled with a conviction that brooked no argument. "He will carry my name. And one day, he'll carry my legacy. Not as a disappointment. Not as a lower-class warrior." He turned, his sharp eyes glinting with determination. "But as something far greater."
The scientists said nothing, their earlier judgments now overshadowed by the weight of Toma's words.
Toma turned back to his son, a quiet resolve settling over him.
–"You're going to change everything," he whispered, his hand still resting against the pod. "Even if no one sees it yet, I do."
The baby gave another soft cry, and for the first time in years, Toma felt his hardened Saiyan heart soften entirely. His soul, once burdened by battles and bloodshed, felt lighter. Cleaner. And in that moment, he made a silent vow.
No matter what, he would protect this child. Not because of power levels or legacies, but because Tomako was his.
And as the room fell into a hushed stillness, Toma's heart burned with a hope he hadn't known he could feel.
The world was a haze. Colors bled into each other, soft and muted, while shapes flickered in and out of his unfocused vision. Sounds reached him as if filtered through water, distorted and muffled.
He floated, weightless, in a cocoon of warmth. His tiny body stirred faintly, his small hands twitching against the glass-like barrier that encased him.
Through the fog, he saw a figure—blurry, yet familiar. Something about that presence stirred a nameless emotion deep within him, like the echo of a memory he couldn't grasp.
The figure spoke, but the words barely reached him.
–"…hair… like him…"
Who? The thought flitted across his mind and was gone, leaving a faint ache behind.
–"…Hey there, Mako… home…"
Mako? The word resonated, striking something deep within his half-formed consciousness. It felt… right. But why?
The figure leaned closer, and the faint glow of their eyes—sharp, yet gentle—pierced through the fog.
–"…might have written you off… stronger… kind…"
The words washed over him, slipping away before he could latch onto their meaning. He tried to move, to respond, but his body wouldn't obey.
–"…take care, son…"
A flicker of something sharp and vivid passed through him—loss, though he couldn't name it. The figure lingered for a moment longer, then turned and walked away.
And the warmth faded with them.
The pod's interior was cramped, its walls humming faintly with the vibrations of its systems. He now sat curled within it, his small form barely filling the space. His head rested against the side, his dark eyes half-lidded, gazing at the glowing panels through a dazed fog.
He felt the subtle shift of motion as the pod was lifted, but his focus was elsewhere. In his mind's eye, fragmented images flickered—smiling faces, warm hands, faint laughter. They felt so close, yet every time he reached for them, they dissolved like smoke.
Through the thick, muffled walls of the pod, voices drifted in.
–"…power level… one… Ankoku…"
The words came in fragments, distorted and meaningless to his dazed mind. But there was something in the tone—concern, urgency—that made his small heart race.
–"…Pull your son… out…"
Son. That word struck him, reverberating through his hazy thoughts. Who were they talking about?
He felt a slow sizzle of air as the latch of the pod was opened, causing the moonlight to briefly land on his face.
It almost made him want to wake up, but the light would be shadowed by a figure, one that felt… familiar.
He felt how he was grabbed with two big hands and tenderly dragged out of gus pod.
Now, exposed to the outside, the light of their moon casted itself onto his face, causing his eyelids to open just a little bit.
And there, he saw him. For the first time, the shadowy figure he could never decipher came into view, his form no longer blurred from the inside of the incubator chamber.
Toma stood tall, his broad frame exuding the aura, strength and rugged pride of a what felt like a seasoned warrior. His face, framed by the thick, unkempt hair typical of his kind, bore a stoic yet softened expression—an odd, almost unspoken tenderness in his sharp features. His piercing eyes, though often hardened by battle, now seemed lost in thought as they gazed at the child.
The armor he wore was a set of golden-plated Saiyan armor, with layered shoulder guards and a fur-lined sash wrapping around his waist of what looked like a monkey tail.
For a moment, he seemed like an apparition—a shadow from another life come to haunt the infant's dazed … when he noticed that he was gazing up at him… his face morphed into a fondly smiling face…
…Just… who was….?
The moment didn't last long, as he was slowly moved and separated from him once more, being placed inside of another pod. The latch closed and now, darkness surrounded him once more.
He was… confused…Was that? Who was that exactly? But why did he feel so… saddened to not know?
–"…make me proud… stay alive…" He heard from the outside, from that voice that was all too familiar for him now.
The faint hum of the pod's systems seemed to amplify those words, lodging them deep in his mind. Proud. Alive. He didn't understand why, but they felt important.
–"…live a life… never given you…"
The last voice was softer, tinged with something that made his chest tighten.
As the pod began to move again, Tomako's eyes fluttered shut. The haze thickened, and the faint echoes of the voices swirled in his mind. Among them, one word lingered, brighter than the rest.
Mako.
It was his name… Was it not? He didn't know why, but he felt somewhat sure of it.
The pod shuddered, and with a burst of energy, it launched into the dark expanse of space. Cradled within its walls, the child who had been Makoto Naegi drifted into the unknown, his small heart beating faintly with the unshakable pull of a destiny waiting to be written.
A faint hum surrounded him as he drifted in and out of consciousness. The warmth of the ground beneath him was unfamiliar—soft, alive, and not the cold, sterile environment he'd left behind.
His body felt strange. Weightless and small, as though it wasn't his own. His memories were muddled, and for a moment, all he could hear was the sound of air sizzling in once more.
The pod broke open, and the little kid just… didn't know what was going on.
Trying to… understand? He crawled himself out of there. On his way, he fell to the ground, meeting the rocks that were now beneath him, a crater formed after his landing.
But he couldn't know that, all he could think of was to… move. To get… somewhere? He had to… return? Return… but where?
To… who?
Slowly crawling away, he managed to leave the crater and venture into the forest right next to it. He… he never saw a place like this… he never… he never was…
…
…What was he trying to say?
He got tired of crawling as hard as he could, but… he didn't even know why he was doing it… Staying put to recover himself, he felt how his eyes slowly shutted themselves as a gentle breeze rustled through the air, tenderly brushing him.
Then, a voice broke through the haze.
–"Oh my goodness!"
He stirred slightly, his breathing shallow, but he couldn't open his eyes. Too tired of everything he had done. The voice came closer, kind and curious.
–"A little boy?" the voice said again, closer this time. He felt a strange warmth as if someone had reached out to touch him.
The unfamiliar sensation startled him awake, and before he could make sense of what was happening, he began to cry. Loud, uncontrollable sobs broke from him, his peace shattered by confusion and fear.
But the voice wasn't scared. He felt strong, reassuring arms lifted him into the air.
–"Whaddya know? A tail?" He heard him say.
He had one?
His cries subsided as he opened his eyes, locking onto a face he'd never seen before. The elderly man smiled warmly, and something about his presence made him feel safe. His tears faded, replaced by wide-eyed curiosity.
–"Oh! You have such kind eyes!" the man chuckled, and Makoto couldn't help but smile back, the fear from moments ago melting away into a strange, quiet joy.
The man's words were muffled as he felt himself relax, comforted by the kindness he didn't fully understand
–"Now… let's see…" The elderly man grumbled in thought, however, he didn't know what was going through his head.
Almost immediately after, he sighed in defeat.
–"Haaah…" Seeing him like that made his heart twist a little.
–"Do you perhaps have a name, little one?" The old man laughed as he tickled the kid's navel, causing him to giggle uncontrollably.
–"ehehehe…"
However, he felt… he felt the need to…
to…
–"t-to… to…"."
–"Hmm?" Tilting his head, he stopped his tickling his stomach to see what the kid wanted, little anticipation building in from within him
–"What was that, little one? I couldn't catch that." He asked, not even expecting that he would get a reply.
–"M-Ma…Mmmm…Ma..ko…to"
–"Oh?" The elderly man left out in curiosity, and even surprised a little. "Is that your name?"
The little kid tried his hardest to answer, a mumble coming from him
–"Y-Yyyyy-yyyy…."
He smiled, patting the kid's head in order to stop him.
–"There's no need to rush…" He tenderly said. "We have all the time in the world."
He raised him back in the air to stare right into his eyes.
–"Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you, Ma-ko-to!" He said with a smile.
And the kid, although frustrated from his attempts to talk, smiled in joy.
–"My name is Gohan. And I'll be taking care of you from now on!" He proudly declared.
He couldn't really understand his words just yet, but… he didn't feel anxious about it. He felt like a genuinely good person…
And… that mattered… he thinks?
–"At least, until I learn the whereabouts of your family…" He muttered, however he didn't wish to stress the little kid in his hands. "Come on! Let me show you my humble home!"
And with that, the elder man took young Makoto away in his arms, a new family being formed that day.
Unbeknownst to him, the remains of the attack ball that the little kid had been sent off with remained there, untouched and unfound by his now, adoptive grandfather.
And this story has just begun.
CHAPTER END
Notes:
Well, Naeggs fucking died… Yep… Can't do a proper Isekai without that, now can I?
Originally, I was going to have Makoto meet Bulma in this very same chapter, but I figure that I pull it back a little so I can have all the time with it. Last chapter was already vey long, and it was meant to be because it'd be the first instance of pure Dragon Ball story plot WITHOUT major changes, only the stuff that would lead to this story to begin. For this chapter, I wrote in with a similar mindset, as it's mostly Danganronpa content. So to make it more chewable, I'm separating the beginning of this story for next chapter.
Also… No Power Level measurements today, as… let's be honest, you guys don't care about these two random scientists. I was thinking of making them Planthor and his assistant but… eeeh… And yeah, can't exactly give you power levels from the Danganronpa universe since… LMAO. If you want something then know that Makoto's power level was absolutely not stronger than that of a handgun's bullet, so he can't pull a Raditz just yet.
Also, if you noticed, yeah, this deviates from canon, just like how I did with last chapter but… well, here it was different as it's just a different scenario for stuff. There's not much info on how… Makoto does things for things to lead up to Goodbye Despair and… on god, the timeline is a headache to work with.
From what I can find DR3 takes place after DR2, and it kind of makes sense… until you realize that Makoto's PTSD triggers when Monokuma makes his grand return, specially mentioning how that's impossible to happen since, well, Junko fucking LowTierGod herself, which leads me to believe that DR2 and DR3 happen at the same time, but… If you know DR2's final trial and ending then that just… can't happen?
Honestly, I rolled with what I had and I'm honestly very proud of how it came out. It might not be peak fiction, or canon compliant or… anything, but I'm happy to at least have something somewhat coherent as a background for this all. After all, at some point I have to ACTUALLY WRITE the Dragon Ball story part for this fic, but I didn't want to jump the gun without doing this, as I felt that it's literally part of the soul for this whole story.
By the way, goddammit, why is no one else doing more Harem stories for Naeggs man? I literally wrote these two chapters in record time out of spite because of it, and I'm still mad at myself for literally doing it for characters OUTSIDE DR's universe. There are so many girls that deserve more love and… I'm probably not going to make them any justice still with this one…
Mikan, Ibuki, Seiko, Miu, my beloveds…
Schizophrenic rambling done. I'm off to bed/work. Depends on what time of day I post this.
BUT HEY, THAT'S JUST A THEORY
A FAN FICTION THEORY!
THANKS FOR READING!
(edit: mfw when I'm about to end, mfw when I'm about to post, mfw when I see there's an entire scene missing.
Fuck my life bro…)
