Chapter 1: First Blood
Episode 2: Policies
The morning begins slowly for Noriko, who lies sprawled across her bed, hair a tangled mess of knots and wild strands. A sudden, jarring announcement pierces the quiet of her room: "Ahem! It is now 8 AM. Morning time has arrived!" The mechanical voice of Monokuma is as grating as it is unwelcome.
"Ugh..." Noriko groans, burying her face in her pillow, wishing for just a few more minutes of sleep. "After this meeting, I'm going to destroy that wretched screen..."
Reluctantly, she throws off the covers and stumbles out of bed. After hastily dressing in her usual attire, she grabs her trusty magnifying glass, tablet, and key—tools she's grown accustomed to since their ordeal began. With a deep breath, she steps outside, the cool morning air brushing against her skin, invigorating yet unsettling.
As she leaves the dilapidated house behind, Noriko spots Venitsu and Kuroki crouched over a massive sheet of blue paper, sketching with white pencils. They appear engrossed in their work, the air around them filled with a sense of determination and creativity.
"Uh..." Noriko hesitates, crossing her arms as she approaches. "Can someone explain what you two are doing? Never mind—let me guess. You're here to remodel my house, right?"
"Y-yes..." Kuroki replies, his voice wavering slightly, betraying his uncertainty.
"Indeed," Venitsu responds with an air of polished confidence that contrasts sharply with Kuroki's shyness. "I've loathed the design of this place since day one. It's an imperfection I dread. Even as the Ultimate Architect, I knew I couldn't tackle this project alone."
Kuroki nods vigorously, adding, "So he basically said he'll pay me 100 Mono-Coins if I help him. I mean, it's not a bad deal, right?"
"Mono...Coins?" Noriko frowns, the term unfamiliar to her. She looks between them, searching for answers.
"Ah, yes," Venitsu explains, adjusting his monocle with an air of superiority. "You left early yesterday. Monokuma returned to the theater and gave us our Mono Credit Cards—MCCs—as part of our new economy. It's a system designed to help us manage resources, I suppose."
"B-but shortly after that, Iwao went a little crazy trying to create a financial system to make sure our money doesn't get stolen from each other," Kuroki adds, his eyes darting around as if expecting Iwao to leap out from the shadows. "T-that paranoid madman."
"What kind of system?" Noriko asks, intrigued despite herself.
"That's what I was about to leave Kuroki here for right now," Venitsu replies.
"W-wait!" Kuroki pleads, his voice rising in panic. "W-we still have 14 houses to go! We can't just leave them unattended!"
"I'm sure you can manage that by the end of the day," Venitsu assures him, his confidence unshaken. "Now come with me, Noriko. Let us venture to our destination, shall we?"
Before she can protest, Venitsu grabs her wrist with surprising strength and begins walking toward the school. Noriko's eyes widen in surprise.
"Woah!" Noriko yelps, feeling like she's being dragged along by a relentless current.
They arrive at the school's entrance, a large, ominous structure that looms over them. Noriko finally manages to break free from Venitsu's grip, her heart racing from the suddenness of it all.
"Next time, warn me before you grab my hand! It felt like putting it in a hydraulic press!" she complains, rubbing her wrist to ease the lingering pressure.
"No promises," Venitsu responds with a smirk, clearly unbothered by her irritation.
"Ugh!" Noriko retorts, rolling her eyes in exasperation. She can't help but feel a mix of annoyance and amusement at his demeanor.
As they enter the school, the familiar sounds of chatter greet them. The cafeteria's meeting is meticulously organized, a stark contrast to the chaotic uproar yesterday. Sho, Shinobu, Aiko, Katsu, Megumi, Iwao, Sachika, and Haruto are gathered around a table, their conversations halting at the arrival of the two.
"So the building designer and mystery thesaurus arrived late," Shinobu remarks while adjusting her ascot.
"Mystery thesaurus!?" Noriko responds in shock, then replies casually, "That checks out."
"Aw, come on, Shinobu!" Megumi chimes in, a hint of amusement in her voice.
"Ahem," Iwao interrupts, pulling out a piece of paper from his bag. "Shall we begin? First, Rule 1.01..."
1.01: "Sleeping anywhere but your assigned house is forbidden."
Sho nods. "Pretty standard. He doesn't want anyone hiding or avoiding suspicion by sleeping elsewhere."
"Or... creating... alliances," Aiko adds, her voice slow and deliberate. "If you... can't... share... space,... it's... harder... to build... trust."
1.02: "'Nighttime' is from 10 PM to 7 AM. Some areas are off-limits at night, so be cautious."
"Classic killing-game setup," Katsu mutters. "Restricting access creates tension."
"And reduces witnesses," Sachika points out grimly.
1.03: "Inciting rebellion against the Mastermind is prohibited."
Haruto scoffs. "Basically, we can't organize against him. That much is clear from Usami's incident."
Noriko responds, "Speaking of which, how did Monokuma take Monomi Ball? I saw Monomi Ball in Riku's hands. But remember yesterday, Monomi played Simba in that... uh... Lion King Play..."
"Monokuma stole her from Riku's hands," Megumi responds. "Let's just say he had dozens of guns on us, making that rebellion rule a biiiiiiiiitttttt... OP."
"Figures that Monokuma wants a punching bag," Noriko mutters under her breath.
1.04: "You are free to explore the Maul with minimal restrictions."
"But he decides those restrictions," Shinobu says. "He controls the board."
"The Maul?" Noriko responds, looking puzzled. "Is this what this place is?"
"Yes." Venitsu explains, stepping forward with confidence. "Basically, we're in a fortress in an area of approximately 80 kilometers."
Everyone turns to Venitsu in shock at his statement.
"W-what?" Sachika asks, her voice filled with genuine shock, an expression that's rare for someone as calm and composed as she is.
"Yes. I can confirm, as the Ultimate Architect, that this place is artificially constructed. If you need further proof, look for Gina and confirm it yourself. The Ultimate Weather Reporter will verify that the weather patterns in the sky are not naturally occurring. I asked myself to confirm this theory," Venitsu adds, his tone matter-of-fact.
"Can you explain this in much more specific detail?" Haruto asks, his curiosity piqued.
"I only discovered this fact just before I hired Kuroki to help me remodel the houses," Venitsu replies.
"Remodel the houses?" Sho asks in confusion.
Noriko responds, exasperated, "Don't even ask."
1.05: "Attempting to break into locked rooms or areas during nighttime is prohibited."
"That seems straightforward," Noriko responds, feeling the need to quickly assess the rules.
1.06: "Anyone who kills a fellow student and becomes 'blackened' will graduate, unless discovered."
Megumi stiffens. "This rule... it's the heart of the game, isn't it? The bait."
Noriko nods gravely. "It's why we have to stay vigilant."
1.07-1.09: "Murder triggers a class trial. If the guilty party is exposed, they're executed. If not, they graduate, and everyone else dies."
"High stakes," Katsu mutters. "It's a death spiral if we slip up."
"That is how it was always was," Iwao corrects Katsu. "The stakes were always this high."
1.10: "Lending your e-Handbook is prohibited."
"Prevents alibis or tampering," Sho notes, sounding more analytical than usual.
1.11: "Additional rules may be added as necessary."
"Typical... Monokuma," Aiko says. "Always... shifting... the goalposts."
1.12: "All other crimes are forbidden unless tied to murder."
Haruto frowns. "So... he's at least preventing us from committing other crimes. That's probably the most humane rule out of all these rules."
Sho responds, "How is that humane?! It said it is acceptable if it is tied to murder."
Noriko cuts in, her voice as sharp as her mind: "He said the most humane. It is still twisted, as it allows these crimes so long as it contributes to a murder."
1.13: "Breaking motives is considered vandalism and will be punished."
Megumi bristles. "He added that one because of me. But I'd do it again if I had to."
"That's stupid," Shinobu responds, her tone icy. "Like it said: you would be punished if you break this rule. That'll get you killed."
Megumi shouts back, "You're right, but if there is no other way, I'd be happy to throw away my life to stop—"
"No." Noriko interjects firmly. "We don't trade lives, Megumi. If there is a way to survive as long as possible, then it is not worth taking the risk. Though I am not entirely optimistic one will last long. If a secondary motive is introduced... what happens if there's a third? Fourth? Fifth? How many of us will have to die to keep us from murdering each other? Your actions were well thought out at the time. But repeating them under these conditions is suicidal and only guarantees the killing."
Megumi takes a moment to reflect before responding softly, "You're right. I'm sorry."
"Its alright," Noriko replies, her voice calm. "Just remember to think things through before you jump to conclusions, okay? Otherwise, you might abandon the possibility of returning to your loved ones. Unlike some people in this forsaken place who will end up as sushi for Monokuma's bloodlust."
"Why are you so blunt?" Sho asks awkwardly.
"By now you should know that about me," Noriko replies nonchalantly.
"But now we need a protocol to prevent the killings," Iwao responds, his voice steely.
"Might I suggest something?" Venitsu interrupts, gaining the group's attention.
"I propose we use our Monopads to catalog daily activities and where we conducted them. That way, if anyone remembers anything, it could serve as a vital clue in case of a murder occurring," Venitsu suggests, leaning back in his chair with a self-satisfied smirk.
"How exactly will that prevent any murders, Venitsu?" Katsu asks, clearly frustrated.
"Think about it, my fellow classmates. A person's memory can only be supported by credible sources. If this system is in place, we can recall what we were doing, and if anyone's memory can confirm this fact, we'll have an alibi. If the records are manipulated, others can cross-check them. That's a risk the culprit can't afford to take, and that lowers the chances of a murder. So, if anyone has objections, I'll be happy to break your dignity—at least the little dignity some of you have left." Venitsu's eyes briefly dart to Iwao as he delivers his final words.
"Screw you," Iwao snaps, his hands gripping the edge of the table.
"Yeah..." Aiko responds with an exasperated sigh. "We know..."
"Regarding the actual system to prevent killings," Sachika interjects, her voice calm but firm, "it's best that no one is alone. A group of at least four people should always be present."
"Why four?" Megumi asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Because of the obvious 'double victim' scenario that happens in every Chapter 3 of the killing game," Sachika responds.
"Oh yeah. The Chapter 3 Curse," Megumi mutters. "I always hated those chapters. It's like the writers consciously make them terrible."
"That's off-topic," Shinobu interjects, cutting her off.
The room is heavy with the weight of the rules, but Noriko feels like there's still more to discuss. A moment of silence stretches out before Iwao clears his throat, adjusting his glasses as he prepares to speak.
"Well," he begins, his voice low and calculated, "if we're talking about preventative measures, we need to address something most of you are probably ignoring—the Mono-Coin economy."
Noriko raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms in suspicion. "Economy? We're trapped in a killing game. What does money matter here?"
"It matters a lot," Iwao replies, his tone sharper now. "Monokuma isn't just running a game of life and death; he's trying to control everything. The Mono-Coins are a tool—just like the rules, the restrictions, the motives. The second we start spending carelessly, we're playing right into his hands."
The group exchanges uneasy glances.
"Okay," Sho interjects, leaning forward on the table. "Say you're right. What's your big plan, then?"
Iwao pulls out his Mono Credit Card (MCC) and holds it up like a trophy. "This little piece of plastic is both a curse and a potential savior. Here's how we deal with it:
Pooling Resources: We combine our funds into a central account. Instead of everyone spending individually, we create a shared pool. Every expenditure is tracked and voted on by the group.
Essential Spending Only: No frivolous purchases. We focus only on what we absolutely need to survive—supplies, tools, and maybe upgrades for our living quarters. No one spends unless the group approves it.
Tracking Transactions: I'll personally manage a log of every Mono-Coin spent, so there's no room for manipulation or theft. We'll compare the MCC logs against my records.
Emergency Fund: A small portion of the pooled money is set aside for emergencies. No one can touch it without a unanimous vote.
This system keeps us accountable and reduces the risk of someone using their coins to buy... unethical advantages."
Venitsu smirks, his fingers tapping idly on the table. "A noble plan, Iwao, but flawed. What's to stop someone from hoarding their coins instead of contributing to the pool?"
"Nothing," Iwao admits with a shrug. "But if they do, they isolate themselves. They won't have access to the group's resources or protection. Trust me, isolation is a death sentence in this game."
"That's a bit... extreme," Megumi says hesitantly.
"Extreme is the situation we're in," Iwao snaps. "If you don't want to play along, fine, but don't come crying to me when you've run out of coins and need something vital."
"I see the merit in your system," Sachika interjects, her voice calm and analytical. "But it relies heavily on trust—and trust is in short supply here."
Katsu leans back, crossing his arms. "What about bribes? If someone's desperate, they might try to buy someone's silence or cooperation. You can't track that."
"That's why we need contingencies," Iwao replies, undeterred. "If someone is caught using Mono-Coins for personal gain outside the system, they face consequences. We ban them from access to the pooled funds—or worse, if necessary."
"And by 'worse,' you mean...?" Noriko asks, her voice hard.
"Social ostracization," Iwao responds matter-of-factly. "No one partners with them, no one helps them. If they want to act outside the group, they can live outside the group."
"Harsh," Shinobu mutters, though there's a hint of approval in her tone.
"Financial systems are only part of the solution," Sachika adds, refocusing the conversation. "What we need just as much—if not more—is a strategy for how we interact. To reduce the likelihood of murder, we must design our daily routines around group dynamics."
She rises, tapping her Monopad as she speaks. "Here's my suggestion:
Minimum Group Size: No one goes anywhere alone. Every activity—eating, exploring, even resting—requires a minimum of four people.
Rotating Partners: Groups change daily. This prevents alliances from forming and ensures no one can predict who they'll be with next. It also builds a web of accountability.
End-of-Day Check-Ins: Each night, we meet as a group to debrief and share what we did during the day. It's an additional layer of transparency—and it helps us spot inconsistencies.
The goal is to eliminate opportunity, build trust incrementally, and ensure no one feels isolated or targeted."
"Won't that just create more tension?" Sho asks, frowning. "Forcing people to stick together doesn't mean they'll like each other."
"Maybe not," Sachika concedes. "But it makes it harder to act on malicious intentions. Isolation breeds vulnerability—and vulnerability breeds murder."
"Besides," Venitsu adds with a sly grin, "if nothing else, it'll make for some fascinating social experiments. Who knows what alliances and rivalries might emerge?"
"Not the time, Venitsu," Noriko snaps.
As the group lingers in the cafeteria, the air is thick with tension. Noriko leans against the wall, arms crossed, contemplating their options. "If we're serious about preventing murders, we need more than financial systems and group routines. We need contingencies for every possible scenario—including what happens if someone tries to stop the killing game outright."
Shinobu narrows her eyes. "Stopping the game? That's a pipe dream. Monokuma has the power here, and any move against him could backfire."
"That's why we need to be smart about it," Noriko replies, her tone sharp. "Let's brainstorm. If someone tries to break the rules, incite rebellion, or sabotage the system, what do we do?"
Sachika raises her hand. "If anyone tries to rebel, it can't be a lone effort. We'd need a carefully coordinated plan involving everyone—or as many of us as possible. The Mastermind thrives on division. Unity is our best weapon."
"Except," Venitsu interrupts with a smirk, "unity is also our greatest weakness. The more people involved, the more likely someone will betray the plan. Monokuma will dangle rewards for selling us out. We can't overlook that risk."
"Then we compartmentalize," Iwao suggests. "Keep each person's role isolated. No one knows the full plan except for one or two trusted leaders. That way, if someone betrays us, they can only expose part of the operation."
"What about creating distractions?" Katsu asks. "If someone wants to act against Monokuma, they could stage a diversion to draw his attention. Maybe fake a conflict or sabotage one of his systems."
"That could work," Sho admits. "But it's risky. If the distraction fails, the person becomes a target—and so does anyone helping them."
"Which is why we need a failsafe," Noriko adds. "If the distraction is discovered, we immediately abandon the plan and regroup. No second chances."
Megumi hesitates before speaking. "What if we used our Monopads to create secret messages? We could encrypt them or leave coded notes for each other."
"No way," Iwao says firmly. "Monokuma controls those devices. If we use them for rebellion, he'll catch on in an instant. Physical notes would be safer—but even those are risky."
"I might have a workaround," Venitsu says, his eyes glinting with mischief. "We could apply the scorched earth strategy to the notes. Once the message is delivered, paper meets fire."
Noriko gives him a skeptical look. "You're assuming he hasn't anticipated that. If he finds your 'scorched earth,' it could spell disaster."
"I thrive on risk, darling," Venitsu replies with a creepy smile.
The smile sends a chill down everyone's spine.
"Okay..." Megumi responds, her voice shaking slightly.
"What... about... the ethics... of rebellion?" Aiko asks softly. "If... someone tries... to stop... the game... but it... leads to... someone else's death... is it... worth it...?"
The question hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.
"It depends," Haruto says grimly. "If the death is accidental, it's tragic but understandable. If it's deliberate, that person becomes no better than the Mastermind."
"I disagree," Katsu says coldly. "If one life can save the rest of us, it's worth the sacrifice. Survival comes first."
Noriko's gaze hardens. "We don't trade lives, Katsu. Not unless there's no other choice. We fight to save everyone—or we don't fight at all."
"What if someone wants the killing game to continue?" Sho asks suddenly. "What if someone sabotages our efforts because they think killing is the only way out?"
"Then we handle it swiftly and decisively," Iwao replies, his voice cold. "Anyone caught sabotaging the group gets isolated immediately. No exceptions."
"That could backfire," Megumi says, frowning. "If we isolate someone, they'll feel cornered—and desperate people do desperate things."
"Which is why we monitor them," Noriko adds. "Pair them with the most level-headed members of the group. Make them feel watched but not completely abandoned. It's a delicate balance."
As the others began to disperse, the atmosphere in the room remained thick with the weight of their discussion. The group had hashed out plans to prevent murders, discussed strategies to control the Mono-Coin economy, and even debated the ethics of rebellion. Yet, despite the collective decision to adjourn, Noriko couldn't shake the feeling that something was still off. Her instincts were sharp, her mind constantly analyzing every detail in the situation. It didn't feel like they were finished—not yet.
She stood still for a moment, her arms folded tightly across her chest, her mind working through the plan they had just laid out. Could this really work? The idea of pooling their resources and sticking together felt like it could create some stability, but it also left so many openings for things to fall apart. Monokuma was a master at exploiting weaknesses. Was this truly enough to stop him, or were they merely buying time?
Her gaze shifted toward the door, where Sho lingered, as if waiting for the right moment to approach her. His unease was palpable, and Noriko couldn't help but feel a twinge of suspicion. The way he was avoiding eye contact with everyone else—it wasn't like him. She wasn't one to trust easily, especially now, but something in her gut told her to be cautious. She couldn't just ignore it.
"Noriko."
His voice was low, almost hesitant, but there was urgency behind it. She turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. "What's up, Sho?"
He glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one was in earshot before speaking again, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need to talk to you. In private."
Noriko's heart rate quickened ever so slightly, her mind instantly on alert. Private? Why would he need to talk to me alone? She kept her expression neutral, trying to mask her growing suspicion. She'd learned the hard way that in a place like this, trust could be a dangerous commodity.
She took a moment to size him up. Sho wasn't exactly a liar, but he wasn't always forthcoming either. She had seen him play things close to the chest in the past, and now, with everything at stake, that instinctive caution flared up.
"What's this about?" she asked, her voice even but firm. "Why do you need to talk to me alone? What could be so important?"
Sho shifted uncomfortably. "I can't explain it here. It's... complicated. But it's something you need to know—something that could change everything. I just need you to trust me on this."
Noriko's eyes narrowed slightly. "Trust you? After everything that's happened here? How do I know this isn't some kind of trick, Sho?"
Sho's shoulders tensed, and he quickly shook his head, a mix of frustration and desperation crossing his face. "It's not a trick, I swear. Please, Noriko. This is bigger than us. If you don't come with me, it could be too late to do anything."
Her eyes lingered on him for a moment, weighing the situation carefully. She could just walk away, but if Sho was telling the truth—if—then there was something important at play here. Still, she was no fool. The last thing she wanted was to walk into a trap.
But part of her, the part that didn't want to be left in the dark, felt an undeniable pull toward what Sho might have to say. She had to know. I can't keep second-guessing everything. I need to find out what's going on, but I'll keep my guard up. I won't let myself be blinded by whatever he has to say.
"Fine," she said, her voice low and measured. "But if anything seems off, I'm out. Understand?"
Sho nodded, looking relieved. "I promise. It'll all make sense once you hear it."
Noriko couldn't shake the feeling that she was walking into something far deeper than just a conversation. She had no idea what Sho had in mind, but she had a feeling it wasn't going to be a simple discussion. Without saying another word, she followed him down the hallway, her mind working in overdrive, trying to anticipate every possible outcome.
They passed through the empty corridors of the building, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the cold walls. Finally, they reached a quiet, unused classroom at the far end of the building. The door creaked open, and they stepped inside. The room was dim, the only light coming from the narrow window that let in a thin sliver of daylight. Dust hung in the air, untouched by the usual activity of the rest of the building.
Sho closed the door behind them, the faint click of the lock sounding ominously in the otherwise silent room. Noriko's eyes immediately scanned the space, looking for anything out of place. Her fingers brushed against her Monopad in her pocket, the cool plastic a reminder that she wasn't entirely defenseless. If something went wrong, she'd be ready.
Sho took a deep breath and turned to her. "Alright, now we can talk."
Noriko crossed her arms, maintaining her distance. "What is this about, Sho? Why couldn't you tell me back there?"
Sho exhaled slowly. "It's because it's not something I want anyone else hearing right now. This is... this is bigger than anything we've discussed. It's about the game—how we get out of it. How we stop Monokuma."
Noriko stiffened. Stop Monokuma? That was a dangerous thing to say, especially in this place. She wasn't sure if Sho was serious or if he had just lost his mind in the face of everything going on, but her instincts told her that this was more than just a simple plan to prevent murders.
"You're talking about rebellion," Noriko said, her voice low and cautious.
Sho met her gaze, his expression grim. "Yes. But not in the way you might think. We can't just wait for Monokuma to keep controlling us. There's a way out of this. I've been working on something... I just need you to be part of it. I can't do it alone."
Noriko narrowed her eyes. "What do you need me for?"
Sho hesitated for a moment before continuing, his voice almost pleading. "I need someone I can trust, someone who's not afraid to think outside the box. We can't keep playing by Monokuma's rules. If we do, we'll be stuck here forever. We need to fight back—and I think we can."
Noriko was silent for a long moment, considering his words. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, but that didn't mean she was going to blindly follow him. This was a game of life and death, and she had no intention of letting anyone else decide her fate.
"I'm not going to blindly follow you, Sho," she said, her voice cold and steady. "You're asking a lot from me. If you want my help, you'll have to prove this isn't some wild scheme to get us all killed."
Sho's face tightened, but he nodded. "Fair enough. I'll explain everything—step by step. But we need to act fast, Noriko. The longer we wait, the worse it's going to get."
She took another moment to study him, then nodded reluctantly. "Alright. But don't think for a second that I'm all in yet. I'll help, but if anything goes wrong, I'm out."
Sho smiled, a small but genuine smile. "Thank you. You won't regret this."
Noriko couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine. If this is a trap, it's a clever one. But if Sho's right... then we may have a chance. A slim one, but a chance nonetheless.
As she listened to Sho begin to explain his plan, she couldn't shake the feeling that this conversation was only the beginning of something much darker. The question was: Could she trust him—or would she end up paying the price for her curiosity?