endings for "let's go out with a bang!"

by weewooweewoo (WaitWhatDoIPutHere)

Summary:

somebody asked that they be moved to ao3 instead of google docs, so here are all of the endings to the story "let's go out with a bang!" :] this will make absolutely zero sense if you haven't read the story yet!!!!!!!!!!!

you can read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25817056/chapters/62714566

<3

Chapter 1: [ending 1/5]: shoot makoto

Himiko closes her eyes and fires at Makoto.

She doesn’t kill him at first. No. Perhaps that was even worse. Makoto is striked directly between his ribs, but he doesn’t die immediately. He crumbles to the ground, trembling hands cradled over the bullet wound, facing upwards at the ceiling with his mouth gaping open. Swallowing copious amounts of oxygen, like a fish out of water. Himiko stares at him with her eyes bulging out of her head, her grip on the gun weakening so immensely that she drops it as soon as she notices the blood. She’s killed somebody. She’s killed somebody. She’s KILLED somebody.

Makoto doesn’t look scared. Himiko watches as the spark begins to steadily drain from his unblinking eyes, stares as his breathing grows thinner and painfully sharper. He looked tired. His signature smile was weak across his face, his hopeful beam beginning to fade. There’s nothing about him that implied he was terrified of dying, nothing about him that indicated paralyzing fear besides his shrunken pupils. There was something so striking in the difference between Junko’s suffering and Makoto’s, between her jittery yet painful smile etched in Himiko’s brain and Makoto’s calm, undisturbed demeanor as he slowly succumbs to the dark. Eventually his eyelids flutter closed, an almost dreamy look washing across his features, his arms falling gently to his sides.

It takes Makoto Naegi sixteen seconds to die.

Himiko feels as if the oxygen left the room with him. Her lungs were pressed so tightly against her ribcage that it gave the horrid impression she wasn’t breathing. And maybe she wasn’t. The world around her felt distant, as if she was an outsider looking in at the scene. The shrieks and screams around her were muffled, as if her head had been submerged under water, an icy chill rushing through her entire body and once more rendering her completely immobile. She’s shaking immensely, but was so still at the same time. Her feet were planted firmly against the ground, yet she could be knocked to the floor with a simple blow in her direction.

Himiko had just shot somebody. She should be crying. She should be feeling. Noises erupt around her but she can’t process any of it, simply can not understand. She just couldn’t understand. She just couldn’t understand.

People are yelling at her but she can’t hear. The stench of blood is so vile and acidic in her nostrils that it burns her nose hairs, leaving her sense of smell dull yet severely overwhelmed. Her fingers feel numb against her sides, as if they had been in the freezing cold for so long that they’ve reached insensibility. She’s bit her tongue and it’s bleeding. Her eyes are out of focus and hazy.

Somebody runs up to her and embraces her. It’s Tenko. Himiko was begging for the taller girl not to touch her but her mouth wasn’t opening. She squirms and whines pathetically, hands flailing and wacking those around her, scratching at the arms that hold her. Don’t touch her. Don’t touch her, please.  

Makoto’s removal doesn’t take long. The guards released Himiko’s friends and they scampered away silently, ghostly pale and ear-piercingly mute. Miu scrambles for the exit, empathetically glancing at Himiko as she passes, quietly whispering shaky curses at the Director before breaking into a full-on sprint. Korekiyo glides past almost robotically, her eyes wide and terrifyingly haunted, hands shaking at her sides as she forces herself not to look at the blood. Once Himiko’s group was allowed to leave, the guards began to make way towards Makoto, gracefully lifting him and escorting his body out of the room.

Himiko couldn’t stop staring at the blood he left on the floor.

“You’re free to go,” the Director permits with a dismissive wave, noticing her stillness and signaling her to leave. 

She doesn’t move. She can’t move. She can’t see, or touch or smell or breathe. The gun sat on the floor in front of Himiko, mocking her, calling her names and taunting her for being so heartless. Tenko’s arms were around her, caging her, suffocating her. She was only trying to help, but Himiko couldn’t find comfort in her chilly touch, sharp on her skin and vile to her senses. 

Tenko inhales, her breath shaky and calculated.

“This…. This was the right choice,” she says after a beat, voice weak. It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself rather than Himiko, “...This was the right choice.”

Himiko couldn’t help but wonder if there was a right choice in the first place. Both choices felt like a horrid dead end, a murder that would hold consequences no matter which person she chose. Makoto had a family. Makoto had friends who are going to miss him dearly, had a girlfriend who was going to curse Himiko for her actions for as long as she lived. Makoto had a life ahead of him. He could have grown, could have been a better person if he was only given time. 

But death was the ruler of everything. Death had hands that gripped at time and dissolved it. Death takes and takes until all that was left was some distant memory. Some backwards legacy.

Makoto Naegi died a villain. That abrupt thought nearly makes the redhead vomit.

Himiko feels no sense of pride in killing a mastermind, feels no relief as the horrid Danganronpa Convention finally ends for good. Her friends would surely be waiting for her outside. Korekiyo and Miu would reach them first and explain everything. Maybe Himiko won’t have to speak for the rest of the ride home, won’t have to talk to anybody until she reached Canada again and hid there, forever.

Himiko can hide forever. It’s over.

Kyoko stands very slowly, her expression frozen and her breathing thin. She doesn’t look at anybody, her expression straight towards the floor as she exits the room. Himiko can hear her accelerated breathing as she passes by, can see water trailing down her cheeks and her lower lip wobbling no matter how hard she tries to keep a straight face. She is the known leader of an established terrorist group, now. And Himiko had signed her goddamn name to join that very group as soon as she shot in their favor. 

Oh, God. Himiko’s messed everything up, now. She was given one chance to change everything, and she’s made a mistake. She’s made a mistake. She’s made a mistake.

The lights flicker back on. The cameras whir back to life and catch Tenko and Himiko standing in the middle of the Iris Ballroom. Blood trails on the carpet. An empty gun sits on the floor in front of Himiko.

She can’t go back. She can’t go back now. She just wanted to go back and do nothing. She just wanted to be nothing again.

Himiko should have never, ever wanted to be important. She wants to go back. She wants to go back.

She wants to go back.

-=+=-

TRANSCRIPT, CHANNEL 7 NEWS, JUNE 1ST

FOR PROFESSIONAL USE ONLY

REPORTER ONE: “--Investigators and multiple witnesses have attested to the Anti-Hope League being responsible for the horrid convention, with many blaming the late Junko Enoshima for devising the death game under the instruction of the AHL’s leader, Kyoko Kirigiri. The tragic event reached its conclusion, however, during an abrupt blackout within the hotel, when former spokesperson Makoto Naegi was found shot and killed by an unknown assailant.” 

REPORTER ONE: “With no access to the cameras during the blackout, it is inconclusive who this unknown attacker truly is. However, many have begun to suspect Tenko Chabashira, Korekiyo Shinguji, Miu Iruma, and Himiko Yumeno from Season 53 as holding some involvement in his death, and subsequently the Anti-Hope League, itself. Police have been unable to get in contact with these suspects, and it is incredibly likely that they have fled the country.”

[CUT TO: Footage of a press conference. A POLICE OFFICER addresses a crowd, answering questions regarding the Danganronpa Convention and the murder of MAKOTO NAEGI.]

JOURNALIST ONE (within footage, hand raised): “Could you be absolutely certain that Season 53 had involvement with the Anti-Hope League?”

POLICE OFFICER (within footage): “...Unfortunately, we can’t be entirely certain that everybody in that class was involved. The blackout was, uh, very detrimental to our efforts. However, it is clear that Himiko Yumeno, Tenko Chabashira, Korekiyo Shinguji and Miu Iruma had something to do with Makoto Naegi’s death. Kaede Akamatsu was also… uh, on the premises at that time. Tsumugi Shirogane we know, for certain, is a part of that terrorist group. It just-- We can’t tell for certain if everybody is involved, but the entire class will need to hand themselves in for questioning. Their disappearance definitely, uh, raises red flags. It’s incredibly convenient for them to have left.”

JOURNALIST TWO (within footage): “You said that Junko Enoshima was working closely with Himiko Yumeno and Korekiyo Shinguji, is that more reason to suspect the class of being involved with the Anti-Hope League?”

POLICE OFFICER (within footage): “We are still looking over the footage. We’ve been, uh, very fortunate that The Director of Danganronpa has managed to locate the-- the, uh, footage of this killing game. This horrid killing game. We’ve been watching it over, yes, but a lot of the footage seems to have been lost or, uh, damaged.”

JOURNALIST THREE (within footage): “What will happen once you find Season 53? Or-- Any member of the Anti-Hope League, for that matter?”

POLICE OFFICER (within footage): “We would greatly appreciate if Season 53 would step forward and be open to question. Definitely. And I, uh, would also say that if an AHL member stepped forward with information regarding the whereabouts of other members, specifically Kyoko Kirigiri, then the punishment would definitely be… lessened. Lowered. If not, they will be facing serious jail time for this convention, most definitely.”

[CUT TO: Footage of a candlelit memorial. The camera pans over framed portraits of late Danganronpa participants.]

REPORTER ONE VOICEOVER: “The convention reached it’s end with nearly 200 deaths in total, many of which are still being attributed to other participants in the building, rather than the AHL’s weaponry. The majority of these killings, however, will be pardoned by the court under the excuse of self-defense, unless the murder was pre-meditated in advance or executed in malice.” 

REPORTER ONE VOICEOVER: “Some good news: Danganronpa will be continuing production coming this Autumn, but promises to pay tribute to their fallen participants throughout filming and within the final product. The memorial for this horrid convention took place just yesterday, and was missing many familiar faces. The search for the missing Anti-Hope League will continue, and it is very possible that Japan will be facing a lockdown in order to contain these members in the country--” 

-=+=-

Tsumugi stomps the fire out, timidly wrestling her skirt out of the way before it catches fire, also. 

“We need to go,” She whispers.

The camp stirs to life.

Himiko wakes up drowsily. Her nap, if you could even call it that, was light and uncomfortable, clouded with nightmares and murky distractions. The forest floor was barely covered by the light blanket she slept on, and a stubborn stick poked at her side the entire time. Tenko, equally as restless and uncomfortable, shifted and mumbled during her sleep, further ruining the redhead’s nap. It couldn’t be helped, though. Tenko needed rest, however unbearable. She hasn’t stopped walking in days-- even when Himiko got to sleep on her shoulders. The redhead could bear to lose a few hours of sleep if it meant Tenko at least attempted to nap. 

With a yawn and a fatigued stretch outwards, Himiko slowly begins to sit up, glancing wearily around her campsite. The night was beginning to creep up on them, meaning that they would have to destroy the fire before anybody could see the flame from a distance. The schedule was tedious but remarkably strict: They would sleep during the day-- in shifts, of course-- and walk during the night. Eventually, they will reach some sort of terminal. A dock, maybe. Himiko isn’t entirely certain if they’re escaping the country via plane or boat. And considering how both options would be driven and managed by an AHL member, both seemed unpleasant at best.

Himiko has one set of clothes. They were starting to grow dirty in the dust and mud. She couldn’t complain, however, and was very thankful that she had left in her casual clothes: her bunny sweater and some grey sweatpants. Others weren’t as lucky. Kirumi ran in pajamas, and Himiko could clearly see mud running up her pants. Kaede didn’t bring a jacket, and the nights got remarkably cold. Rantaro had started running just before he gave a testament to court, and has been wearing a suit throughout the journey, hiking in dress pants and a white button-down. He had the map. They followed his directions, blindly placing trust in their classmate. 

Tsumugi destroys the fire they had started, cautiously kicking away the scorched branches and hiding any burn marks made on the ground with an untidy pile of leaves. As the most begrudgingly-added member of the class, the former cosplayer, dressed in a long skirt and graphic tee, blue hair disheveled and unkempt, didn’t talk too much. Most of her words were purely business, speaking only when absolutely necessary, when they needed to run or when they should stop. She stays with the class on a temporary truce, a truce that many struggled to oblige with. Saying there were differences between her and the class was an understatement-- None of them had forgotten what the cosplayer did to them in their killing game, who she had been or the pain she had inflicted. But they all had one, final goal in mind, and they can act amicable for now. 

All of them, no matter how little or how much they were involved in that stupid Anti-Hope League, were fugitives in the eyes of the people. Fleeing was mandatory. Himiko can sleep next to Tsumugi Shirogane if it means she could get out of here.

“What the fuck…” Miu mumbles groggily, inelegantly rubbing her face. “I was asleep for, like, five minutes…” 

“It’s been three hours,” Ryoma replies. Clearly he is tired, as well. 

Kaede, already up on her feet, grabs Miu’s hands and pulls her up from the forest floor, “Y-You can sleep on the plane.”

“Boat,” Tsumugi corrects.

Boat, Kaede signs, as a correction to her statement. 

“I thought it was a plane,” Ryoma questions.

“Boat,” Tsumugi repeats.

Kaede helps a wobbly Shuichi to his feet. They had been involved in the AHL, and they, along with Tsumugi, are the only people who know this organization. Who knows this league. The rest of them trip and stumble after them, processing slowly, trying with everything they have to understand. The temporary truce is extended to them. Questions can be asked later, accusations can be made later. They were all running from something. 

The class begins to dismantle the tents, removing all evidence that they were ever there. There’s little banter as they start walking again, through the tangled branches and debris, into the thick trunks of the forest trees. Kaito walks with a serious limp, Tenko just barely manages to hide hers. Shuichi, barely awake and clutching at the stitches on his stomach, stitched by untrained hands, is kept standing by the broodingly silent Maki. Korekiyo gets distracted multiple times and trips over branches. Kirumi will walk until she physically can’t bear it any more. 

A class of fugitives had never looked so pathetically weak. 

“We should be there by morning if we keep walking,” Rantaro states, looking deeply at his map. A large red circle indicates where they were headed. “Keep your heads up.”

Himiko continues to look at the floor. 

Material-wise, there wasn’t much she was leaving behind in Tokyo. Most of the items left in her hotel room were easily replaceable, trinkets she would miss for a little bit but will eventually get over. But Himiko knew what she was truly leaving behind-- The participants that would undoubtedly suffer due to her decision, those who will be under the mercy of Danganronpa for the rest of their lives. Himiko walked with the knowledge that she was not only abandoning Danganronpa, but was leaving them to deal with the consequences of her actions. 

Makoto Naegi will have a funeral, and Himiko Yumeno will leave him behind in Tokyo, where he lived and where he died, to decompose in his casket. To rot from his bullet wound. She leaves behind the friends who will miss him dearly, the fans who will mourn over him for days to come, and will suffer no external consequences. All the redhead could do was chastise herself for it, dream of his death and be crushed by it, enact a self-hatred so powerful that it made up for the population of Japan, those who would hate her just as greatly. 

Makoto will have a funeral. Junko won’t. 

Himiko talked to Miu one time during their trip. The redhead had been bantering with Korekiyo, a Korekiyo who was so very, very haunted by what he had seen, when they’re joined by a tearful Miu. She apologizes emotionally, quietly, her head turned so the class couldn’t see her, so they will never know what she had done, who she had killed, the corpse she left behind. Korekiyo knew he was in no place to deny her apology, despite his muted anger. Despite losing a friend, a friend he could have grown very close to, at the hands of a hysterical Miu Iruma. 

And there was nothing Himiko could do but forgive her. It’s a past they were both trying to run from, after all. A past that they had to dismiss.

“My feet hurt,” Kokichi whines.

“We know,” The class replies in monotone unison.

“Keep complainin’ and I’ll give ya something to complain about,” Miu grumbles.

Kokichi gasps, “Bully!! Bullying!! Somebody help me, I’m being bullied by a whore!!”

Miu shoves him, but it’s evident through both of their smiles that it was nothing more than lighthearted play. Gonta has to catch Kokichi before he stumbles over a branch.

The former inventor looks less confident, her eyes much duller and her shoulders slightly slumped. All Himiko could hope was that she could learn to forgive herself moving forward.

They walk and walk for what felt like hours. Always moving, never stopping. Never looking back. There’s a part of Himiko that begs her to rest, to take a short break, but she must ignore her aching legs as best as she could, must ignore her blistering feet until she reached the terminal, or the dock, or wherever they were headed. 

There was a new year ahead of her. It’s practically the only thought she could cling on to, the only hope she had in such a terrifying situation. As they run, there will be a new year waiting for them. There will be a new year to explore, a new year that will welcome the class with open arms. There will be a new Himiko that will wait with it. It’s the only thing that the former mage could look forward to.

Change. All she could hope for was that something changes. 

They walk and Kaito limps and Kokichi trips, Gonta hums and Kaede talks and the class listens to her, Rantaro leads and Korekiyo speaks up and Tsumugi stares. They haul tents and backpacks filled with water bottles and food, they move forward. They do nothing but walk, chatting amicably, trying with everything they can to salvage their spirits. Angie sings a lovely tune and Korekiyo quickly recognizes it, awkwardly mumbling along underneath his mask before Himiko joins in at full volume, incentivising the rest of the class to join along. 

The sun starts to rise and the class sings with it. Rantaro folds his map, knowing where he was headed, knowing they would soon be there.

The dock arrives, and the ocean they look over is vast. The sunrise greets them, vivid oranges and purples that await their arrival, that welcomes them softly. The deep ocean used to terrify Himiko. Now, it was a comfort.

They step on sand, after days of walking on leaves and dirt. Himiko nearly bursts into tears. 

It has never been so clear to her. Change will happen, has happened. For a moment, it felt as if she would be stuck there forever, a prisoner in her own body, a foreigner in her own country. 

But the sunrise greets her, and it all becomes clear. It felt so sickeningly bittersweet. Her feet ached and her stomach cramped. She held burdens that were heavier than she could lift, regrets that crushed her under its weight. Perhaps she will always be fleeing, she realizes. Fleeing from Danganronpa or simply from something they couldn’t see. Perhaps Himiko will never know rest, will never see a full night's sleep again. Perhaps Junko is truly gone, and perhaps the blood of Makoto Naegi is stained on her hands.

But no matter how far they run, how slow or how tired they have grown, the sun will rise and tomorrow will arrive. It is spiteful, this hope. Himiko lives in spite. She survives in spite. She spits up at the sky and she cries with her girlfriend, she sings with her friends and she forgives her enemies. The world will beat Himiko, strike her until she is numb, demand that she be crueller because of it, but Himiko Yumeno will play in the sand until the sun falls. And then she will move forward. And then she will move forward.

Maybe that’s just what the class needed. Tomorrow.

“Ready when you guys are,” Himiko hollers.

The class runs. The new day welcomed them warmly.

Chapter 2: [ending 2/5]: shoot kyoko

Himiko closes her eyes and fires at Kyoko.

Almost mercifully, the former Ultimate Detective instantly dies. Himiko’s uncoordinated shot miraculously strikes her between her eyes, killing the woman on impact. Kyoko first drops to her knees, her lavender irises crossed as she stares upwards, as if looking directly at the bullet wound. Blood splatters from her forehead and trails down the bridge of her nose. Eventually, her body succumbs to gravity and teeters pathetically to the side, crumbling to the floor. Frozen eternally on her face, an expression of bewildered confusion, a permanent countenance of horror and a bitter acceptance.

There is a choking silence as they watch the former detective succumb to her wound, a horrified shock that ripples through them. Makoto stares, can do nothing but stare, mouth open in terrorized shock, his jaw trembling and his eyes instantly beginning to water. Kyoko’s eyes slowly, painfully look to meet the Ultimate Hope’s. They share one last glance, one last moment of remorse or apology, before the former detective releases her final breath.

Kyoko is dead within seconds.

Himiko feels as if the oxygen left the room with her. Her lungs were pressed so tightly against her ribcage that it gave the horrid impression she wasn’t breathing. And maybe she wasn’t. The world around her felt distant. Far. The shrieks and screams around her were muffled, as if her head had been submerged under water, an icy chill rushing through her entire body and once more rendering her completely immobile. She’s shaking immensely, but so still at the same time. Her feet were planted firmly against the ground, yet she could be knocked to the floor from a simple blow in her direction.

Himiko Yumeno had shot somebody. She should be crying. She should be feeling. Noises erupt around her but she can’t process any of it, simply can not understand. She just can’t understand. She just can’t understand.

People are yelling at her but she can’t hear. The stench of blood is so vile and acidic in her nostrils that it burns her nose hairs, leaving her sense of smell dull yet severely overwhelmed. Her fingers feel numb against her sides, as if they had been in the freezing cold for so long that they’ve reached insensibility. She’s bit her tongue and it’s bleeding. Her eyes are out of focus and hazy.

Somebody runs up to her and embraces her. It’s Tenko. She had been let go. Himiko was begging for the taller girl not to touch her but her mouth wasn’t opening. She squirms and whines pathetically, hands flailing and wacking those around her, scratching at the arms that hold her. Don’t touch her. Don’t touch her, please.  

Kyoko’s body is treated with little grace. The guards released Himiko’s friends and they scampered away like wild animals, barking and yipping in disgust and fear. Miu scrambles for the exit, cursing The Director as she leaves, damning everybody in the room to hell in her shaken panic, her fit of hysteria. Korekiyo glides past almost robotically, his eyes wide and terrifyingly haunted, hands shaking at his sides as he forces himself not to look at the blood that pools on the carpet. Once Himiko’s group was allowed to leave, the guards began dragging Kyoko’s corpse inelegantly out of the room, leaving a horrid streak of blood on the floor. 

Himiko couldn’t stop staring at it.

“You’re free to go,” The Director permits with a dismissive wave, noticing Himiko’s stillness and signaling her to leave.

Himiko doesn’t move. She can’t move. She can’t see, or touch or smell or breathe. The gun sat on the floor in front of Himiko, mocking her, calling her names and taunting her for being so heartless. Tenko’s arms were around her, caging her, suffocating her. She was only trying to help, to comfort and to be there, but Himiko couldn’t find solace in her chilly touch, sharp on her skin and vile to her senses. 

Tenko exhales, her breath shaky and calculated. She can’t muster a comforting remark. There is nothing she could say to mend what has been broken. Eventually she has to let go, voiceless and trembling. Himiko wants her to say something but finds nothing escaping her lips. She just wants Tenko to tell her she did the right thing. Please, somebody tell her this was the right decision. 

Himiko feels no sense of pride in killing AHL’s leader, feels no relief as the horrid Danganronpa Convention finally ends for good. Her friends would surely be waiting for her outside, but Miu would reach them first. Miu would reach them in agitated tears, calling the redhead a murderer, condemning her in front of the entire class for killing the only hope that the Danganronpa participants had. Himiko has to hide. She can’t face them again. She can’t face her class again.

Himiko has to run. She has to run, now. It’s all over.

Makoto stands up slowly, assisted by a guard next to him. His expression was overwhelmingly vacant, his eyes wide as they stared at his dead girlfriend on the floor. He is gone, now. They escort him out of the room without second thought. Makoto doesn’t blink as he glides past Himiko, complete emptiness behind his eyes and his expression hollow. They lead what is left of Makoto Naegi out the door. 

The lights flicker back on. The cameras whir back to life and catch Tenko and Himiko standing in the middle of the Iris Ballroom. Blood trails on the carpet. An empty gun sits in Himiko’s hand.

It’s over. It’s over. It’s over.

It’s over.

-=+=-

TRANSCRIPT, CHANNEL 7 NEWS, JUNE 1ST

FOR PROFESSIONAL USE ONLY

REPORTER ONE: “--Investigators and multiple witnesses have attested to the Anti-Hope League being responsible for the horrid convention, with many blaming the late Junko Enoshima for devising the death game under the instruction of the AHL’s former leader, Kyoko Kirigiri. The tragic event reached its conclusion, however, during an abrupt blackout within the hotel, when Kyoko Kirigiri was found shot and killed by an unknown hero. With no access to the cameras during the blackout, it is inconclusive who this unknown saviour truly was. However many have begun to suspect Tenko Chabashira, Korekiyo Shinguji, Miu Iruma, and Himiko Yumeno from Season 53 as holding some involvement in the convention’s end.”

[CUT TO: Handheld shot of HIMIKO YUMENO walking towards a car, a dark hood pulled over to cover her face. A DANGANRONPA DEFENSE ATTORNEY walks in front of her, holding a hand in front of the camera as they walk. A crowd surrounds them, and everybody is clearly interested in the former participant.]

REPORTER (within footage, holding microphone): “Himiko-- Is it possible for you to explain what had happened during the blackout--”

DANGANRONPA DEFENSE ATTORNEY (within footage, shooing him away): “No further comments, this will be handled in court.”

REPORTER (within footage): “But there’s no way to truly know what had happened--”

DANGANRONPA DEFENSE ATTORNEY (within footage): “Nothing happened. No further questions.”

HIMIKO YUMENO (within footage, turning around in shock): “What…? I-I already told you what happened--!” 

DANGANRONPA DEFENSE ATTORNEY (within footage, pushing HIMIKO YUMENO into a vehicle): “No further questions.”

[CUT TO: Footage of a candlelit memorial. The camera pans over framed portraits of late Danganronpa participants.]

REPORTER ONE VOICEOVER: “The convention reached it’s end with nearly 200 deaths in total, many of which are still being attributed to other participants in the building, rather than the AHL’s weaponry. The majority of these killings, however, will be pardoned by the court under the excuse of self-defense, unless the murder was pre-meditated in advance or executed in malice.” 

REPORTER ONE VOICEOVER: “Some good news: Danganronpa will be continuing production coming this Autumn, but promises to pay tribute to their fallen participants throughout filming and within the final product. The memorial for this horrid convention took place just yesterday, and was filled with familiar faces, including spokesperson Makoto Naegi, who had been very close to the late Anti-Hope Leader, Kyoko Kirigiri.”

[CUT TO: Memorial speech made by Makoto Naegi, who stands in front of a podium. Behind him, lit candles.]

MAKOTO NAEGI (within footage, numbly, clearly reading from a script): “It…. was a betrayal to all, and a loss to many. Some truly good people had been taken away much too soon. Mothers and fathers, daughters and sons. Friends, family. It’s hard to think that… somebody--”

MAKOTO NAEGI (within footage, numbly, after a pause): “Th-That somebody would be so cruel to… to…--”

-=+=-

“Season 54, you’ll be called on soon. Get hair and makeup fixed if you haven’t already. Big smiles when you walk onstage, sell it.”

There’s very limited response. A wave in the coordinator’s direction, a mumble of affirmation. The coordinator, stony and unbothered by the clear lack of enthusiasm, scribbles a few notes down and begins to walk towards the stage wings once more.

“Please,” He practically spits, not looking at anybody as he vanishes. It’s not kind. 

A sigh escapes Himiko before she can stop it. 

She can hear the crowd from here. They are loud, restless, waiting for their favorite characters to enter that stage and wave at them, greet them with enthusiasm and warmth. To greet them with the benignity that they would never give Season 54 in return. They had started to chant a little while ago, impatient and hungry for something to happen, screaming “Dan-Gan-Ron-Pa!” in a wicked chorus to elicit some sort of reaction. They were late. The panel was supposed to start ten minutes ago.

Himiko Yumeno stared blankly into the mirror, the stereotypical kind of mirror that performers had access to, the kind framed with bright light bulbs. Her face was caked with foundation so heavy that every imperfection was erased; her eyebags were gone, her acne cleaned, her eyebrows brushed and moles removed. Somebody had updated her costume from Season 53, adding tacky red lining in her blazer and a reflective blue jewel to her witch hat, de-pointing her shoes and tightening her skirt. Her hair, dyed over and over until it reached a striking red, reaches her shoulders and is unhealthily straight. She’s not allowed to cut it.

Shuichi was next to her, residing one vanity over. He’s sorta… slumped over. Obviously tired. Maki is next to him, noticeably irritated by a makeup artist who has been prodding at her for seven minutes but begrudgingly silent. Kokichi is across the room, and Kaito is next to him. None of them have spoken since they got here. They hadn’t even spoken in the limousine. 

“We’re starting,” The coordinator calls. He’s a little too late, as Himiko hears the host begin to speak from the stage before the coordinator could call it. 

They’re rushed into the wings and still, none of them speak. It’s a mindless walk to their positions with little purpose or passion. Robotic, almost. Himiko is quickly escorted to the left with Maki and Shuichi, the “true survivors” of Season 53, and they stand distantly from each other, waiting for their names to be announced. The rest of Himiko’s class are across from them, on the other side of the stage, standing rigidly. A few others were going to join them during the next season, new children that Danganronpa will steal from, will beat and traumatize without warning, all because of this panel. The cast of Season 53 will smile and wave, will giggle and pretend, will wrap up all of their pain and agony with a shiny ribbon and share it with the next cast. 

But it was too tiring to fight it, anymore. There’s an exhaustion that arrives with the thought of even speaking out. Himiko’s sense of justice, the unfairness that comes with hiding the truth of Danganronpa from the next helpless teenagers, has been considerably muted. It’s been very silent, these past few months.

And it has been with the rest of her class, as well. None of them talk to each other as much as they had before; Movie night had been cancelled entirely, Kaede’s voice never recovered and barely anybody had the time to learn sign language. They don’t have time for each other any more. They grow distant. 

It’s clear Danganronpa doesn’t want them together. Korekiyo is encouraged to keep his distance. Himiko and Tenko are not allowed to spend time together. They try their hardest, they try so hard, but a relationship took too much time, too much time that they could be spending getting their lives together. Taking a brief, much needed breather before they are shoved underwater by Danganronpa once more. Himiko stares at her former girlfriend from across the stage, the gloomy Ultimate Aikido Master, who stares back at her wearily. Longingly. Why were they strangers again? Why were they strangers again?  

“Let’s introduce them, huh?” The host announces. The crowd goes wild. It hurts Himiko’s ears. “Let’s start welcoming the cast of Season 53 with a round of applause for Miss Tenko Chabashira!” 

Tenko takes a deep, deep breath, before she steps onstage with a wide smile. It looks like it's hurting her. The crowd cheers.

They all start filing on, introduced one by one. It’s jarring, how quickly they are able to slap a grin on their face, how quickly Himiko’s classmates roll back their slumped shoulders, brighten their expressions and remove all signs of exhaustion. Rantaro walks onstage in a new explorer’s vest and a smooth wave, quickly hiding that nervous yawn he had given before his entrance. Kirumi, using what little strength she had to walk from the wings and to her chair, settles her face into a polite smile, the kind that only an Ultimate Maid could give. Gonta flashes a gentlemanly grin, one so false that it was no longer gentlemanly in Himiko’s eyes, and the crowd goes nuts.

They all pass by. Himiko doesn’t spend too much time thinking about them. She’s waiting to hear her name.

“Up next, we have the wonderful Korekiyo Shinguji!”

Korekiyo walks to his chair with his eyes down. He’s been growing his hair out again. It looks very well kept. Clearly, Danganronpa was not happy with his haircut. He, in return, looks even more unhappy with the costume he had to put back on, the familiar mask that once more covered his face. But it is futile to fight Danganronpa, and it is useless to object to their decisions. They didn’t care if he was upset, if he was permanently scarred by the horrors he had been subjected to. They didn’t care that he wasn’t speaking, haunted by that final decision Himiko had made, the final straw that might have shattered him completely. To Danganronpa, he was just another character that they could kick and beat until people lost interest. 

Tenko sat right next to him. Her false smile wavers for the briefest of seconds.

The names are called and Himiko waits patiently in the wings, like a good Danganronpa participant. More people began to crowd around where she was, makeup designers who were making final adjustments, more characters who were rushing to get to their places last minute. Shuichi and Maki get pushed away from the mage, but Himiko doesn’t care. They will all end up in the same place, anyways.

Tsumugi finds her way backstage, and there is no light in her eyes. She’s as pristine and perfect as she was in the simulator, wore the exact same costume with the exact same hair. She wasn’t frowning, per se-- Frowning was always reprimanded by Danganronpa officials, as it wasn’t “good for their image to look unhappy”-- but her expression still held disdain. She looked rejected. That was it. She looked disappointed. Or, at least, Himiko guessed she did. 

With Kyoko gone, the AHL stood no chance. It crumbled, collapsed under the weight of Danganronpa’s threats. Any sort of safespace that Tsumugi had created vanished forever. Destroyed by Himiko’s hands. Tsumugi must have known that it was over as soon as Himiko had fired that trigger, must have known there would be no more hope for freedom. She barely put up a fight when they found her. 

It seems they’ve all given up. 

“Introducing the lovely Tsumugi Shirogane!” 

Tsumugi leaves and the crowd continues. Their cheers sound muffled, passing through one of Himiko’s ears and out the other. She’s disconnected from the scene, removed from reality, her brain flipping into some sort of survival mode until she could get this panel over with. She will get this panel over with, and then it is on to the next one. And then the next one. And then, Season 54 will begin, and her memories will be removed temporarily so that they may continue the story without a hitch. And then she will be removed from the simulator, very likely to be painfully murdered due to her past insolence and lack of cooperation during her previous killing games, only to do more panels and interviews and press conferences and photoshoots. It’s a cycle. She’s so tired.

Junko steps in to fill Tsumugi’s spot. Himiko notices her out of the corner of her eye.

She’s wobbling, just slightly. Danganronpa had healed her rapidly, quick to find her in that basement where she was left for dead, quick to save their lead villain. Her hair has been bleached and extensions have been added so that she could once again don those iconic pigtails, her nails have been done and painted a red as fiery as Himiko’s hair. Nothing about her costume has changed, except for the noticeably longer sleeves. 

They both stare out at the stage for a moment. They knew the other was there next to them, but neither spoke, at first.

“Did you get taller?” Junko jokes, breaking the tension. It’s bubbly and bright. Out of place.

Himiko blinks the cloudiness out of her eyes, staring down at herself and finally towards the Ultimate Despair. It’s clear to both of them that Himiko has not grown; In fact, due to the massive heels Junko was wearing, Himiko has actually shrunk in comparison.

Still, the Ultimate Magician lets out a whimper of a laugh. For old time’s sake.

“...Miss Miu Iruma!”

Miu, makeup properly done and hair perfectly wavy, shakes away any rising bile that threatens to spill over and confidently strides onto the stage. She waves with both arms, stopping briefly so the crowd could look at her, just as Danganronpa had instructed. The crowd cheers. Kokichi follows right after her, and Himiko can barely tell the difference between his real smile and his fake one. Almost humorously, the Ultimate Supreme Leader and the Ultimate Inventor are sat right next to one another. Neither of them look at each other. 

“Isn’t this so exciting, Koko?” Junko grins, continuing conversation with the redhead. She speaks as if nothing had happened in that hotel, as if she had never been shot. As if Himiko had stayed by her in the basement instead of leaving her completely alone and in agony, as if the mage was allowed to visit her in the hospital. “We finally get a season together!”

It was so ridiculous to find something like that exciting, and its ridiculousness was the only indicator to the redhead that Junko was being sarcastic. Nothing about the Ultimate Despair implied disdain, implied fatigue or irritation. She played everything very straight. Very in-character.

“Yeah,” Himiko says. Was that something her character would say? Was that a response that Danganronpa would take kindly to? Maybe she should be more vague. “I guess.”

Junko’s eyes narrow, very slightly, but other than that her expression doesn’t move.

“Returning in a minor role, we’ve got Makoto Naegi!” The host announces.

“Come on, Koko, lighten up! It’ll be fun,” Junko teases venomously, punching Himiko lightly in the shoulder. Himiko sways, lightheaded, distracted by Makoto, who makes his way to the stage in a horrifyingly robotic manner. “Who knows, maybe this time I’ll get to kill you.”

The phrase does not frighten Himiko as much as it should. She laughs lightly once more, barely finding anything humorous in the situation. It’s a default response, a shell of an answer.

“Let’s hope it's quick,” She replies, tiredly crossing her fingers.

Junko Enoshima stares and stares. Smiles and smiles. There was nothing about her that implied this was the fifty-fourth season in which she would make an appearance. Every imperfection has been hammered out of her, every flaw that serves as a disadvantage to Danganronpa has been shoved down so vehemently, so zealously, that staring at her was like staring at the Junko Enoshima from Season One. That poor teenager who had her memory wiped and replaced with a renowned villain’s, the Ultimate Despair with a plot twist that shocked millions around the world. The Ultimate Despair who still came as a package deal. Who had a sister. 

She acted as if nothing had changed. As if nothing will change. 

Himiko wonders if she will be the same. If she will never grow up. 

“And, of course, the girl you’ve all been waiting for… It’s Junko Enoshima, everybody!” The host announces.

The crowd shrieks. The hall echoes with screams. They chant and cry and holler in unison, Jun-ko! Jun-ko! Jun-ko! Jun-ko! 

“You should have killed me,” The Ultimate Despair says, walking on stage with a bright grin.

She is welcomed by adoring, ravenously hungry fans, who point and gasp and cry her name. Junko just waves. There is nothing else she could do.

Shuichi, Maki, and Himiko are left. The redhead was undoubtedly next. She was the least important of the three. 

She rocks in spot, never finding her sense of gravity. Everything seemed to be up in the clouds, never brought down to earth. The lights of the stage and the flickering of the cameras made her eyes blur, even from where she was standing offstage, excruciatingly bright. They were so bright, and she was so tired.

The story continues and Himiko is dragged along with it. She is lying down helplessly, collecting dirt and rubble as she is hauled to the next chapter, and to the next, and to the next, never in control of her direction or her next action. Never in control of who she is or who she wants to be. Never in control of her present and certainly not in control of what will happen to her in the future. 

The final decision had cost Himiko her freedom. With one shot of a handgun, with one squeeze of a trigger, Himiko Yumeno has shackled herself to this stage for eternities to come. She will be dragged and dragged until she can’t feel the pain anymore, until she can’t feel the rocks and stones underneath her, the gravel that scrapes her skin. 

There is something so, so terrifying about acceptance. About giving up. About finally reaching the breaking point, the point of no return, and to simply lay down and die. To look over the mountain and see what was to come, what agony awaits for her, for others, and to simply do nothing. Himiko watches as enemies become coworkers, as friends become strangers. As minutes turn to hours, hours into days. Her life rolls past her and she is powerless to stop it, to control it. It slips out of her fingers. It was no longer hers.

Days and days and days will go by, the sun will rise and the sun will fall, until Himiko has lost herself. Until she has faded with the seasons, until she has disappeared into the spotlight. Himiko Yumeno, an intruder in her own body, a ghost of a person, a ghost of a character, will simply become nothing. 

And, in doing so, Himiko will live on.

“...Introducing Himiko Yumeno!” 

Himiko steps out from behind the curtain and smiles wider than she had ever smiled before.

Chapter 3: [ending 3/5]: shoot the director

Himiko closes her eyes and fires at the Director.

The shot leaves an echo that reverberates around the room, a piercing noise that bounces through Himiko’s ears even after the gun goes off. The Director sputters and crumbles to the floor, trembling hands covering the wound on his stomach, blood spilling over his lips as he gargles endlessly. The room falls into a nervous silence, a startled gasp rippling through the participants as they watch the Director intently.

Himiko notices that he isn’t dead and quickly aims her gun to shoot again. She clicks against the trigger helplessly, with nothing emerging but noisy sounds of complete emptiness, her attempts at finishing the job futile and useless. One bullet, wasted. 

Kazu sits up painfully, spitting blood at his side, staring upwards with a hardened glare.

“Wow! Bitch!” He coughs. The ends of his lips curl upwards, and Himiko’s blood runs cold. He was laughing. “Y-You fucked up! You fucked up, now!” 

Himiko’s mouth opens. She’s not entirely sure why, because there were no words forming in her brain to possibly reply to the man, but any sentence that might have escaped her was quickly bitten off by a gruff official, who grabs her arm harshly. Tenko cries out to her but is grabbed just as similarly, held in her spot as the redhead is all but dragged down the aisle and towards the exit.

As much as Himiko looks back, drags her feet against the floor, screams to be let go, that she’s sorry, the official does not listen. She can do nothing but apologize, to Kyoko and Makoto, to Miu, to Korekiyo, to Tenko. Sorry, sorry, sorry. As she’s dragged away, all she could frantically scream were broken, futile apologies. Tenko wails and shrieks for her, never relenting despite the enemies holding her down, always thinking of Himiko rather than herself. Korekiyo stares back at Himiko with sorrowful eyes, a dull acceptance, even as the redhead struggles and apologizes. A guard grabs him. He barely flinches.

Kyoko and Makoto are swarmed as soon as The Director had waved his hand for the officials to do so, but they look at each other with despairing content. Against all orders, tranquil and with peace, the former Ultimate Detective walks over to greet Makoto on the opposite side. They embrace longingly. 

It’s a horrid juxtaposition to the yelling, to the cries of anguish and desperation, but it is the last thing that Himiko sees before she truly grasps the severity of the choice she had just made. They have accepted their fates far before anybody else could.

Miu sits towards the front, the only person to never look back at Himiko. Her shoulders jolt as she cries and cries. Does nothing but cry and cry and cry. It’s noisy and grating and clashes dissonantly with Tenko’s screeches, her clamorous bawling and demands to be let go.

The Director hits the floor, and he is dead within seconds. Himiko barely gets a chance to look at him before she is shoved out of the Iris Ballroom, unceremoniously thrown out of the room with nothing but her regret and her empty handgun.

The door begins to close, but Danganronpa makes damn sure that Himiko saw the first bullet connect with Tenko’s temple before they shut her out entirely.

-=+=-

TRANSCRIPT, CHANNEL 7 NEWS, JUNE 1ST

FOR PROFESSIONAL USE ONLY

REPORTER ONE: “--Today, we honor the hundreds, nearly thousands of participants who had so unfortunately lost their lives during this tragic convention. The few survivors who had managed to escape the hotel before the Final Massacre gathered during the memorial to pay respects to their fallen classmates, many of whom they had considered friends. Among the survivors include Rantaro Amami, whose class had the most people still alive after the convention concluded-- A lucky eleven out of the usual sixteen.” 

[CUT TO: Interview at the scene of the memorial. RANTARO AMAMI speaks with ON-SCENE REPORTER]

RANTARO AMAMI (visibly upset): “I-It’s just hard to talk about. There’s a, uh, reason that I was the only person to agree to an interview, haha.”

ON-SCENE REPORTER: “Of course. We respect that entirely.”

RANTARO AMAMI: “Yeah. Thank you.”

ON-SCENE REPORTER: “Would you say that… there was, perhaps, a reason why your class managed to survive how they did?”

RANTARO AMAMI (after a pause): “I… I think we definitely… had Miu to thank for that. I don’t know how she did it, really… but I do think she saved us, in a way. Luck was a whole lot of it-- W-We, um, were very fortunate to make it out alive, and even more fortunate to have… that we had somebody like Miu in our class. But not a lot of… people, um, had a Miu.”

[CUT TO: Various clips of a candle-lit memorial, beginning with a framed photo of MIU IRUMA, who is smiling.]

REPORTER ONE VOICEOVER: “Miu Iruma, along with many others, had reportedly lost her life during the final moments of the convention, as well as spokesperson Makoto Naegi, alleged Anti-Hope League Founder Kyoko Kirigiri, and the former Director of Danganronpa himself. Out of thousands of participants who entered the building, only a striking thirty-five were able to escape with their lives, many of which had been led out by the late Miu Iruma, who allegedly found a way out of the hotel. We asked her close friend Kaede Akamatsu for clarification, but she refused to comment.”

REPORTER ONE VOICEOVER: “Himiko Yumeno, who had also tragically lost her own loved ones during the Final Massacre, contends that the mass slaughter of hundreds was due to The Director’s orders, but has yet to provide sustainable evidence of this in court. The former Danganronpa participant was last seen exiting the building with a semi-automatic pistol, the weapon being investigated further regarding the deaths of both The Director as well as former spokesperson Junko Enoshima.”

[CUT TO: HIMIKO YUMENO behind a witness stand, giving a statement to a courtroom. Her eyes are wide and haunted.]

HIMIKO YUMENO (within footage): “I don’t… know what else I can-- I can say--”

PROSECUTOR (within footage, off-screen): “Mrs. Yumeno, if your claims against the defendant are true, then would you be able to explain to the court why you were left alive out of the hundreds of people who had been killed? It does seem a bit convenient, doesn’t it?”

HIMIKO YUMENO (within footage, audibly distraught, emotional): “I… I-I don’t know why he… why h-he didn’t--”

PROSECUTOR (within footage, off-screen): “Would it not make sense to leave no witness alive?”

HIMIKO YUMENO (within footage, growing confused): “I-I know, but--” 

PROSECUTOR (within footage, off-screen): “And hadn’t the late Miu Iruma already told her class that it was Junko Enoshima instead, who had been in charge of the convention? We’ve had multiple witnesses attest to this. And if it was Junko Enoshima who had caused this, then Danganronpa would in no way be responsible for her actions. You have yet to give us solid evidence that the company is even remotely involved in this mass slaughter besides sheer coincidence.”

HIMIKO YUMENO (within footage, growing irritated): “I-I know what I saw! H-He killed them! I saw it, I swear--!”  

JUDGE (within footage): “Order, order.”

HIMIKO YUMENO (within footage, in tears): “I-I don’t know why he kept me alive…! I don't know why he didn’t kill me, I don’t know why--!”

-=+=-

The sky never turned blue again. It always looked remarkably dull. 

The beach was never Himiko’s favorite place to reside. The deep ocean terrified her greatly and she was never one to stay out in the sunlight for too long. But for some reason the beach was where she had ended up, after a long, tiresome walk from her provided accommodation, so long that her feet were beginning to blister and bleed. She walks and keeps walking, always moving forward, never turning back. Never turning back. 

It was gloomy and practically abandoned, sans the young couple who had been packing their things when Himiko stepped onto the sand. The waves were small and nobody was swimming, the wind was brisk and the sun was hidden behind grey, murky clouds. Himiko found bitter humour in how the environment reflects the mood. It’s been this gloomy since she left that hotel.

There’s a text that buzzes her phone. “Where are you?” Somebody asks. It might have been Kaito. 

Himiko does not answer. She keeps moving forward. 

There’s not much to say about Himiko Yumeno anymore. It seems her story has drifted and ended abruptly, no matter how much fight she had given or how much flame had still been buried in her chest. She scratched a clawed pathetically until she couldn’t anymore, until her nails bled and her hands ached, all for it to reach this finale. The end of all ends. 

June turns into July, and she grows exhausted. Tired of struggling.

It’s a very hard thing to stomach. The sensation of total, utter helplessness. To give your all, despite nobody being by your side, despite the world being against you, the press and the media being against you, to earn nothing. To achieve nothing. Himiko was stained with the blood of thousands, blood that ran up to her shoulders. Blood that drowned her. Miu’s. Korekiyo’s. Tenko’s. And she earned nothing in return.

It’s almost laughable now, in some sad way, how hard she had tried. Once the initial shock wore off, the type of shock that rendered her completely silent for days on end, that stopped her from eating or sleeping and kept her awake to choke on her misfortune, she went to court. She had tried to fight Danganronpa, with what little strength she had left. Even though she wailed and screamed every night, pulled her hair out in stress and bit her bottom lip until it was scabbed and scarred, cried and cried for the people who weren’t there, the people that should be there, Himiko tried. She had to avenge them. That was what she had told herself. If she could prove Danganronpa’s crimes, she could avenge them. Maybe, maybe, maybe she could salvage what little hope was left in such a devastating situation.

The AHL was blamed in full and the case was dismissed within days. 

Himiko was deemed unstable, unable to give a proper statement to the court. She had lost her girlfriend, after all, her friends and her loved ones. Which means she had to be delusional, had to be hallucinating that horrid choice The Director had given her. 

Himiko Yumeno, who had been found on the floor of the Cyprus Hotel, surrounded by corpses, practically convulsing in shock, was not of sound mind and body to be giving a plausible testimony. The guilt she feels is ungodly.

Another text. It’s Kaito again. “Seriously, where are you?” He had asked. He’s guilty too, Himiko reckons, but it's trampled by pity. That’s all anybody could ever feel towards Himiko, nowadays: Pity. Besides Kokichi, whose mischievous, vexatious personality had increased tenfold to the point of him taking a bus out of Japan with no warning, the survivors of Class 53 could only look on at Himiko in sickly condolence. The rest of them huddle together like cowering animals, terrified that they will lose each other, while the stray classmates drift away. Tsumugi is found instantly, caught mercilessly by Danganronpa despite her best efforts, and will spend years upon years of battling a death penalty for her alleged “contribution” to the Cyprus Hotel incident. Her class let Kokichi go with much less resistance than Himiko would have expected. And nobody seems to check up on the redhead anymore.

They’re too ashamed of themselves.

Himiko puts her phone back into her pocket and continues forward. Doesn’t stop moving, even as sand gets into her shoes.

Her mindless walk to the beach is the first time she has gotten out of her apartment in days. It was a remarkably impulsive decision, a moment of complete and utter clarity. Removing herself from her bed, leaving an ugly indent on the mattress from where she had laid for days on end, Himiko had reached a final, final decision. A decision more definite than the one she had reached in that hotel. 

Relief had struck her body upon deciding, total tranquility. She had stepped out the door in her pajamas, leaving all belongings beside her phone and a familiar journal behind, walking down the street in ugly, broken flats. She shot some sort of text to her class group chat, something vague and uninspired. Something her mind had completely glossed over.

It must have been moderately concerning. Or, at least, concerning enough that Kaito, having read the message a little while ago, sends her a text. And then another. And then another. And then he must have texted the group chat about his concern, because Maki shoots a, “Where are you?” text, and Rantaro starts driving to her apartment. The apartment she had left behind, empty and abandoned. 

She doesn’t stop moving. She can’t. Himiko must move forward. 

The peace she feels is twisted. Days upon days of agony, of guilt that brayed her and accountability that tortured her, of splitting headaches and the stomachaches from crying too hard, and it all reaches its conclusion. Her mistakes were forgotten, her errors were cleaned and her faults were dismissed. 

Himiko is alone, alone and content. Miu was gone. Junko was gone, blamed entirely for the convention despite never having been in the AHL. Korekiyo, just learning to heal, was gone. Tenko was gone. The Director dying in exchange for everybody else in the vicinity’s lives was nowhere near a perfect deal. Himiko Yumeno had been left alive for a reason, to twist and contort in agony at the outcome, the outcome she had caused.

But now it’s over, and she feels clarity. 

Danganronpa will continue, and so will the universe. The sun will rise and the moon will follow. The tides will turn and the birds will sing, the rain will come and the storms will ruin. The world continues and will continue. She is sure of it.

But the universe has beaten Himiko dry. There is nothing she can hold onto anymore, not a thing in the world that could possibly make her understand why she had been kept alive. The only thing she had was her emotions, her feelings and thoughts. Now, they plague her. They eat her alive. They choke her until she can’t breathe, until she is empty, until she is nothing.

Her phone buzzes. “You’re worrying people, you know,” Kokichi jokes. Himiko throws her phone into the sand. She moves forward. 

Her chest feels hollow. She leaves her shoes behind and the sand is cold. She leaves everything behind. Better luck next time, she supposes. The sun begins to set. The wind chills her. Water begins to dampen her pajama pants. She moves forward.

It had all been for nothing. She had tried with everything she had, with everything her body could muster after her killing game, to do something right. To do anything, anything right. But the lessons she had learned were lost on her and the wisdom she had gained suffocated her in her sleep. She moves forward. 

Water reaches her stomach, it is cold. She wants desperately to feel warm again, to hold Tenko one last time, to laugh or smile or feel comfort in her friends, in herself. It’s cold. She can’t stop. Maybe there was a part of her that wanted to. She moves forward. Guilt hurts so much more than she had ever thought it would hurt her. There is nothing to hold onto. She moves forward.

She is real, and she is nothing. She is the most important person of the decade yet she is the most powerless being in the universe. Consequences haunt her yet she is useless, a merciless decision was made yet she is alive to tell it. The former magician is too young to harbour the responsibility of thousands, to carry them on her small shoulders like Atlas to the earth. She is too young. She is too young, and inconsiderate and weak, and useless and afraid and frail. It’s cold. It’s cold. It’s cold. 

There is no good and there is no bad. There is no wrong and there is no right. Danganronpa could lose or Danganronpa could win. 

It was all so insignificant now. And it was so, so pointless. 

The deep ocean engulfs her, hugs her warmly. Himiko Yumeno moves forward.

Chapter 4: [ending 4/5]: don't shoot

Himiko opens her eyes. The gun was no longer in her hands.

She looks over to her right and realizes that she had unconsciously handed the gun back, as if rejecting a plate of spoiled food before it reached anywhere near her. It now sits in The Director’s hands, who was staring at it with an amused expression. He began nodding at the gun, fully taking in the decision that she had just made. Processing the weight of her decision in his fingers. Before she had any chance to possibly change her mind, The Director moved the gun away from her, cradling it gently in his hands.

“Not like I expected anything from you, really,” He sighs, his lips curling upwards. He hardly sounds disappointed. 

Himiko’s head turns towards her friends across from her. The room felt deathly silent, as if she had made a fatal error, a deadly mistake. It crashes on her suddenly, the idea that perhaps she had done something wrong, chosen the wrong answer. Tenko cries. Makoto holds his breath. Kyoko stares, unblinking. Her friends were waiting with wide, vigilant eyes, ready for The Director to make his next move. Waiting for anybody to make their next move. Because the next move must be taken, and the power was now officially out of her hands.

Tenko, always unrest and frantic to move, begins to sense the overwhelming stillness and quickly jolts to struggle again. Officials move closer, warning her not to move, keeping her in place. In anticipation of her resistance. 

Himiko stands. She stares at them, completely speechless. Silent. She does not nothing, is nothing. There’s a hollow feeling of quiet rumbling within her body. 

Tenko yells but her voice sounds muffled in Himiko’s ears. She didn’t know what to do, how to react. Miu was sensing her panic and was beginning to yell as well, echoing her. 

Korekiyo simply stared at the redhead, his facial expression somber and contrite. 

Himiko realized what was about to happen as soon as he closed his eyes.

There’s a wavering moment where her body pulses with energy, an abrupt need for survival coursing through her veins. It happens so quickly, too suddenly, the adrenaline shooting up her spine and sparing her a fleeting chance of survival. It’s as if her body was screaming at her to run, to move or fight back. It’s as if all of her limbs were barking and hissing at her to do something, do something, do something. Do ANYTHING.

But fatigue lingers. A deep exhaustion. A part of Himiko that tells her it’s too much of a pain.

“Hm,” The Director sings, smiling coyly as he observes the gun. “Anyways.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say goodbye. Before she could tell Tenko she loved her, The Director aims the gun at the redhead’s temple and pulls the trigger.

-=+=-

Class 53

May 25th, 6:11 PM

Miu Iruma: SHES FEAND

Miu Iruma: SHE’S DEAD

Miu Iruma: SHES DEAD 

Miu Iruma: SHES DEAD

Miu Iruma: IM SORRY

Miu Iruma: IM AORRY 

Miu Iruma: TE DIRECTOR SHOT WHR 

Maki Harukawa: what

Miu Iruma: SHES DEAD IM SO SORRY 

Miu Iruma: SHES DEAD SHES DEAD 

Maki Harukawa: Miu

Gonta Gokuhara: Huh???2?

Rantaro Amami: miu whats going on

Kaede Akamatsu: ARE YOU OKAY R U OK

Miu Iruma: NO NO SHES DEAD IM STILL INSFIDE

Maki Harukawa: Miu.

Miu Iruma: TENKO WONT STOP SCREAMING SHES NOT GOING TO LEAVE KOREKIYO IS HAVIN GA PANIC ATTACK I CANT MAKE THEM LEAVE AT ALL 

Ryoma Hoshi: korekiyo 

Angie Yonaga: Korekiyo?

Kaede Akamatsu: OPEN THE DOOR IM STILL OUTSIDE OPEN THE DOOR

Miu Iruma: WHY TH RE FUCK DID YOU NOT LEAVE GET OUT

Kirumi Tojo: Miu, Kaede, please turn off your caps lock and explain what is happening. We need to understand what is happening

Miu Iruma: himiko and korekiyo were alivee and i found them in the baeeesmnt and ssdnmakoto lied to me and thedirector came in and gave himiko teh rgun and said to chosoe between kyko and makoto and she didnt choose and the director shot her an dnow eveyrbody is panicking i dont know what to do the director left before the cameras came back on tenko adn korekiyo are panickign 

Miu Iruma: kyoko had to run i gave her a key makoto is still here with me he tried to help btu himiko i sdead theres blood everywhere 

Miu Iruma: im runnign i cant help them. im running 

Kaede Akamatsu: Kyoko just let me in I’m coming to you are you in the iris ballroom 

Kaito Momota: I called the cops a while ago they should get there soon 

Miu Iruma: WHAT ARE THE COPS SUPOSED TO DO 

Kaito Momota: IDK

Miu Iruma: ITS MY WORD AGAINST FUCKING DANGANRONPAS IM NOT GOING TO WIN. HE LEFT THE ROOM BEFORE THE CAMREAS CAME BACK ON HE CAN JUST SAY HE HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT AND THEY’LL ALL BELIEVE HIM BECAUSE IT’S FUCKING DANGANRONPA

Miu Iruma: IM JUST SOME TEENAGER. I CANT DO ANYTHING

Ryoma Hoshi: miu get out of there we’re at a gas station you need to start running left

Kirumi Tojo: Miu, please gather anybody you can and evacuate You can explain in person

Angie Yonaga: miu im confused

Angie Yonoga: miu?

Rantaro Amami: miu

Kirumi Tojo: Miu, have you found Kaede?

Kaito Momota: MIU

-=+=-

TRANSCRIPT, CHANNEL 7 NEWS, JUNE 1ST

FOR PROFESSIONAL USE ONLY

REPORTER ONE: “--The horrific incident which had claimed the lives of hundreds held a memorial just yesterday, with thousands in attendance to mourn the great loss. Many familiar faces attended the event, including the director and CEO of Danganronpa, who had expressed incredible remorse over the tragic circumstances being held during a promotional event.”

[CUT TO: Interview on scene of memorial, THE DIRECTOR talks into a microphone and to an ON-SCENE REPORTER.]

THE DIRECTOR: “Terrible. Just-- Just terrible. There was nothing that… any of us could do, really, to prepare for… such an attack against this company. If I had known this would have happened I would have cancelled it on the spot. It truly devastated so many people. I-I mean, the whole purpose of that convention-- of this company-- is to entertain. Absolutely horrible that something like this had to happen to these people.”

ON-SCENE REPORTER: “You said in your speech during the memorial that those who were responsible would soon be held accountable. What did you, uh, mean by that, exactly?”

THE DIRECTOR: “Oh-- Well, of course. We know their names and we know their faces. I don’t think there’s a person in Japan-- In the world, even-- that doesn’t want that terrorist group held accountable for what they’ve done. We will have justice, definitely. And in the meantime, we’ll just have to work on getting this operation running like normal.”

[CUT TO: Interview on scene of memorial, HAJIME HINATA talks into a microphone and to an ON-SCENE REPORTER.]

HAJIME HINATA: “I don’t think I’ve talked to anybody who hasn’t been… seriously pissed off by this. Yeah. I mean, I’ve lost people that I was-- that I was really close to in there. It’s just… it’s awful to think that--”

HAJIME HINATA (visibly upset): “--T-That they made it that far only to be-- God. Sorry.”

ON-SCENE REPORTER: “That’s okay.”

HAJIME HINATA (collecting himself): “It’s unfair. It’s just unfair.”

[CUT TO: Clips of candlelit memorial honoring the deceased participants, muted audio.]

REPORTER ONE VOICEOVER: “The convention reached it’s end with nearly 200 deaths in total, many of which are still being attributed to other participants in the building, rather than the AHL’s weaponry. The majority of these killings, however, will be pardoned by the court under the excuse of self-defense, unless the murder was pre-meditated in advance or executed in malice.”

REPORTER ONE VOICEOVER: “With the hunt for the remaining Anti-Hope League members currently undergoing, one anonymous participant has labeled the situation as a “mad terror to exterminate the internal conflict within the company”, with fierce paranoia. The tragic event has clearly taken a toll on Danganronpa’s cast and crew, especially former spokesperson Makoto Naegi, who had been particularly close to the alleged Anti-Hope League Founder, Kyoko Kirigiri.”

[CUT TO: Memorial speech made by Makoto Naegi, who stands in front of a podium. Behind him, lit candles.]

MAKOTO NAEGI (within footage, voice breaking, reading from a script): “It…. was a betrayal to all, a-and a loss to many. Some... truly good people had been… taken away. Much, uh, much too soon. Mothers and fathers, daughters and sons. Friends, family. I-It’s hard to think that… somebody-- Th-That somebody would be so cruel to… to…--”

-=+=-

There’s a buzzing in Miu’s ears.

It lingers when she closes her eyes, when she opens them. When she inhales, when she exhales. There’s a buzz in her ears that has not left her, a voice that grows louder , a shot that has rung out and forever left her head ringing. Everything moves in a blur. It’s as if she is not there, not in the forefront of her mind. Days pass and she is helpless to stop them. There are louder forces driving her.

The memorial must have happened. That is all that Miu knows. It was as if she had woken up in her dark clothing. She blinked and she was there, sitting somewhere in the audience, the candles blurry in her vision and the portraits morphed together in her eyes. Somebody was next to her. It might have been Rantaro. She’s not too sure.

Tenko cries. Kaede cries with her. Shuichi turns to her a couple of times but his voice sounds like nails against a chalkboard. Himiko Yumeno’s name gets called out during the reading of the victims and practically no one in the class was left with dry eyes. Junko Enoshima’s name does not receive such a reaction, but hearing her name sent such a visceral reaction through Miu that she doubled over where she sat and stayed there for the rest of the evening. Somebody places their hand on her back out of comfort, but the sentiment is lost on the former inventor.

It was only one member of their class that had passed away, but Himiko’s absence screamed louder than any of them could. The memorial did not provide any of them solace.

Miu stays with the rest of her class afterwards and she’s not entirely sure why. It had been Maki who had suggested it, actually, to most people’s surprise, but it was mainly because she knew, as well as everybody else, that they would not be seeing each other in person for a long time. Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, and the longer the entire class stayed in Japan together the worse they all felt. It was practically inevitable that they would be walking their separate ways.

Shuichi left the hospital and was much, much less confident when he returned for the memorial. Kokichi barely speaks a word to anybody, and when he does it is blank, without humour or bite, simple phrases that anybody could have said. Angie is inconsolable. Kaede is out of encouraging words to say. Korekiyo was leaving no matter what anybody said to him-- And it is very, very possible that he was admitting himself back into the hospital.

Miu could not bear to speak to Tenko.

That being said, the flippantly-labeled “after party” of the memorial was not completely awkward. The mood was dull, of course, with everybody wearing horridly black clothing, murmuring softly amongst themselves, nobody daring to speak louder than the next person. It was a temporary house that one of them had been lended for their stay in Japan-- Kirumi maybe, Miu couldn’t be bothered to ask-- which meant that nobody could cause too much of a mess during their stay. Kaito sat on the couch a little too enthusiastically and was immediately warned not to touch anything else. So not only was the cast remarkably quiet, hanging their heads in grief, but all of them were forced to sit rigidly and uncomfortably, too worried to move anything of importance.

Miu wasn’t as close to Himiko as the rest of them were, she knows that. But every time she closes her eyes that insistent ringing returns, the stench of blood and the piercing screams. The echoes of that handgun, that stupid fucking handgun, plays on a constant loop, a never-ending spiral. It wasn’t the shot that she remembers, but rather the aftermath, the ringing of a shot that had already been taken, a decision which had already been made. She closes her eyes and sees a dead Himiko sprawled on the floor, a hysterical Tenko, a motionless Korekiyo. She can’t sleep without seeing red, without hearing echoes. Without revisiting an agonised Junko Enoshima, those final moments she had in that dreaded, dull basement. Miu can’t sleep without greeting death firsthand.

She had to get out of here. She can’t take it any longer. She needs to run.

Nobody knows about the true cause of Junko’s death except for two people, and one of them is dead. The other, a haunted former anthropologist that hovers nearby, was so emotionally unstable and borderline unpredictable that it frightened the former inventor into action. She has to go before he even thinks about telling the others. It’s a heavy, heavy regret that crushes her daily, a mistake that could never be reversed, that sends a deep, nauseous feeling straight down her throat, down her spine, until she is desperate to escape it by any means possible. Miu has spent these last few days functioning on auto-pilot, except when it came to her departure. From the country, from her class. 

The bus is coming in thirty minutes, and she will have to walk to the station closest to Kirumi’s rental. Sayaka will be waiting at the airport with her luggage, and they will leave before anybody realizes they’re gone. Fake ID’s and passports will have to be made in case Danganronpa starts to ask questions, but that is a problem the former inventor will deal with later. 

Miu will tell nobody from her season.

This memorial was her unofficial goodbye. Nobody would really mind all that much if she left without a word… right? It wasn’t fair to any of the deceased for Miu to make a scene, to steal the spotlight. It wasn’t fair to Junko and it wasn’t fair to Himiko. A past Miu would have loved to make this about her, but the present simply did not call for it.

The only thought on her mind was leaving and starting over. It’s what she’s wanted for so long, for so, so long, and she is finally able to do it. Now that Danganronpa is still trying to figure themselves out, still trying to find Kyoko and the AHL, now that Kokichi has reached a civil truce with her and won’t berate her for abandoning anybody, Miu can leave. It sickened her to think that she was even remotely relieved. She didn’t deserve to feel relieved for this second chance. She hardly deserved to make it out of that convention at all. 

“Is there more food?” It’s Kokichi. His voice momentarily snaps Miu out of her thoughts. They were standing against a wall, two plastic cups in their hands. The former inventor isn’t sure how long they’ve been talking. 

Miu blinks, recollecting herself and her surroundings, before muttering a befuddled, “...The fuck do you need food for?”

“Oh. Good morning!” Kokichi greets. “Nice of you to finally join us. I’ve got some terrible news to share regarding Himiko Yumeno.”

“Shut yer trap,” The strawberry blonde replies, barely malicious as she uses one hand to rub at her eyes. “I’m just-- just tired. Been spacin’ out all week.”

Kokichi hardly replies. He simply hums and takes a drink of his water.

Miu observes the room and her sullen classmates with less than keen eyes. Nothing of importance. It was all dull, lifeless. Nobody spoke above a respectful volume. Somebody had turned on the TV, but even that was kept at a low volume, humming lowly in the background. Tenko left early with Angie, very likely to have a moment to themselves. Considering how Angie barely talked to anybody and Tenko was wailing so hard during the memorial that she could barely breathe, it was probably for the best that they left a bit early.

Shit, Miu felt terrible. Fuck. She despises empathy with everything she has. Everything feels so horribly heavy. 

“Reckon this’ll be over soon?” She whispers over to Kokichi. The former supreme leader shrugs miserably. “No offence to…. Th-The deceased, or whatever, but this shit is hella depressing.”

“Shockingly, whore, this isn’t a going away party.”

Miu snarls, but it's depressingly lighthearted instead of purely malicious, “G-Get off my dick…!”

“Besides, people are going to start leaving any moment now,” Kokichi states under his breath. Miu follows his eyeline to find Korekiyo, and it becomes very clear who he is talking about. “He’s not lasting much longer.”

From the moment he stepped into this house, Korekiyo has looked like he was ready to leave. There’s a remarkably disconsolate air that follows him wherever he goes, a haunted, wide look in his eyes no matter where he ends up, a distractedness to him that lingers wherever he stands. He’s sitting in a chair, standing off to the side, as if he was totally disconnected from the rest of the group. 

Considering the arguments that Tenko would get into with him, it was beginning to feel as if he was disconnected from the class, a completely separate entity. Miu forgot what the explosive, practically one-sided argument was specifically about, but it was undoubtedly something to do with Himiko and his past in the simulator, and how Tenko could “never forgive him” after losing the former mage. After losing that rational part of her, the voice of forgiveness. Now it was just Tenko, alone and afraid, mournful and horridly bitter. There was no rebuilding that bridge between them when Himiko had died with the construction plans in her back pocket.

Korekiyo has looked pale ever since he saw the redhead get shot and killed before his eyes. There’s something inside of him that broke. Everybody knows that, but all of them were too ashamed to approach him. There was a bubble that separated him from the class, one that Miu knew all, all too well. All she could hope for at this point was that he got help.

“Poor bastard,” Miu mumbles, hiding her moving lips with another sip of her drink.

Kokichi again hums in response, with nothing witty to say about his situation.

Miu looks him over. The former supreme leader was in a simple black t-shirt and dark jeans, nothing that could even remotely be attributed to his usual personality. His hair was tangled and fell over his face as if he hadn’t showered in a while, his posture wasn’t as upright as it used to be. Kokichi Ouma was never a completely honest boy, but there was nothing about his demeanour or attitude that Miu could pin as being faked or fabricated. The bags under his eyes were there because he wouldn’t sleep and would instead text with Miu all night, not because he wanted pity. His frown was neutral and not forced, a muted expression of disarray. 

They’ve both grown tired, but they’ve both grown to tolerate each other. And Miu would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little bit gloomy about leaving him behind.

“Y’know, if you stayed here, you could probably fight Danganronpa about the nature of Himiko’s death. Maybe you could convince Naegi?” Kokichi says, bluntly.

“Yeah… I just don’t think--” Miu finds herself nodding along before she abruptly cuts herself off, blinking harshly. She hadn’t told the former supreme leader about her plot to leave. “Uh-- I mean, th-that, uh--”

“Don’t start stammering, I already figured it out. And I’m fine with it. I’d leave too, honestly.”

“...Then...why don’t you?”

In response, Kokichi nudges his head over towards the living room. Shuichi sits on the couch, head to the floor and downcast, sitting next to Kaito and Maki, who chat amongst themselves sorrowfully. They all look so, so unhappy. Another friend departing would just make them unhappier.

Miu nods, again drinking from her cup, “Well… I’ve already made up my mind. So.”

“Fair enough,” Kokichi replies haphazardly. He looks past the former inventor and towards the front door, gesturing at it with his left hand. “Kaede’s been out there for a while now, by the way. She said she was ‘getting some air’ twenty minutes ago. I’m pretty sure she’s breathed all of the air by now.”

“Breathed all of the--? Y’know what, I’m not even gonna fuckin’ start,” Miu follows where his hand gestured and looks out towards the front door. She knows that she should go and talk to Kaede, it's the least she owed to the former pianist, her friend, but she finds herself hesitating. It’s obviously what Kokichi wanted. This short conversation was running towards its end. “It’s… yeah.”

There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence that passes over the two of them. They both know that this conversation-- perhaps their last conversation together, in person-- was ending very quickly. Neither of them knew how to end it. Both of them used to be so adamant on who had the last laugh, who got the last jab in before they were eventually cut off by their irritated classmates. But now it just seemed to be a matter of who will finally end their flickering feud for good.

Of who will get the last word. 

“Do you miss her?” Miu finds herself saying. It’s a replacement for a goodbye. She’s terrible at goodbyes, and she will cry no more than she already has. 

Kokichi looks up at her and smiles. It is final and fatigued, amused at himself.

“Just another mistake I’ll have to think about for a while,” He answers. Sourly. Bitterly. He smiles, even as he begins to back away, slowly distancing himself from the conversation. “That’s all.”

“Kokichi--” Miu starts to say. She’s not sure how she would have finished her sentence. Perhaps she really was going to say goodbye.

But Kokichi only keeps walking away, shooing her playfully to go talk to Kaede, a glassiness beginning to wash over his eyes that he was clearly attempting to hide.

“That’s all,” He repeats.

He slinks into the crowd, and that is his goodbye. 

The former inventor frowns.

As Kokichi had mentioned, Kaede was still outside when Miu went to find her. The former pianist hadn’t made it far-- in fact, she had only reached the first step leading up to the house before she sat down. She was in a black cardigan and skirt, sickenly mournful in comparison to her usual pastels, staring silently outwards towards the street in front of her. Wind whistles past and strums against a nearby windchime. It was a beautiful day to be outside.

As soon as Miu shuts the front door behind her, Kaede turns around. There are tears already streaming down her face as she smiles sadly at the former inventor.

You’re leaving? She asks.

Miu closes her eyes in place of a sigh. It was the last thing she wanted Kaede to find out, yet she knew that eventually she had to tell her, either way. Kaede had already been through so much, had already struggled so, so vehemently to keep this class from completely falling apart. First Himiko passes, then Tenko grows hysterical and Angie grows distant, then Korekiyo never recovers and the rest of the class grows more cautious around each other, less comfortable. 

Then Miu leaves.

“Who told you?” The former inventor whispers.

Even though they both knew the answer, Kaede raises her hands and replies with a slow, Kokichi told the class. 

Miu should have guessed it. She’s not surprised, or even remotely disappointed in him. She seriously should have guessed. 

The former inventor takes her seat next to Kaede, slouched over guiltily and staring down at her feet. Kaede stares down with her. The windchime plays them a song as a beat of silence passes. There are so many words that the former inventor wants to say, some gargled sentences of comfort that Miu desperately wishes she could provide, but quiet completely overcomes her.

The former pianist breaks the silence with a heavy inhale through her nose. The corners of her eyes crinkle, but tears fall rapidly down her cheeks. They had been falling ever since the memorial began.

“I-I never could keep you here with me, could I…?” Kaede whimpers, a tragic smile wobbling up her face.

Miu stifles a sudden sob with a sad smile of her own, reaching quickly to pull the blonde into a tight embrace.

It’s bittersweet. Kaede keeps crying, even as the former inventor does her best to shush her, to muffle her cries with her hold. Leftover tears fall from the corners of Miu’s eyes and leave a damp spot on Kaede’s cardigan. Her sadness was silent, a muted devastation towards the events that had happened, the people who were affected and the actions she had taken. Towards the friends she must leave and the life she must restart. But Kaede sobs so Miu can hear, unafraid of the former inventor seeing her cry, seeing her sadness and her worry, the guilt and the pain that she bears, that they all feel.

They stay like that, just crying for a minute, before Kaede eventually pushes herself away, her soft eyes puffy and red as she shakily raises her hands again.

Where? She asks. Where are you going?

Miu light-heartedly rolls her teary eyes, “It’s just like you to ask.”

You know-- You… Kaede stops herself with a wet laugh, clearing her throat before she continues. “Y-You have to let me know where you’re going and--”

“When I’m coming back,” Miu finishes with her. Both girls giggle, tears bubbling in their throats. The former inventor pushes hair out of her eyes and averts her gaze back to the floor. “I don’t know where I’m going. B-But I’ll-- I’ll let you know as soon as I get there, I-I promise--!”

Promise, Kaede emphasises, pushing a stern finger towards the former inventor’s chest.

“I promise. I’ll tell you.”

The former pianist nods. Wind blows through her hair and brushes past her. 

“I’m gonna start over, a-and I’m gonna become the best person you fuckin’ know,” Miu says, as seriously as she could despite the sobs that congested her voice. Kaede laughs sadly, not at the former inventor but rather with her. “I-I’m serious! You’re going to look at me one day and think ‘wow, Miu is so sexy and an amazing person’--”

“S-Stop it, you’re making me laugh!” Kaede insists, voice clearly growing hoarse. She glanced nervously at the door, in case anybody was listening to her guffaw at a funeral. “I feel bad.”

“We’ll see each other again. I’ll come back.”

They both look at each other. Neither of them could truly know for certain if she really would come back. Miu wasn’t even sure if coming back would be a viable option in the future. She might be on the run forever. She might never have the guts to face this country again, or her class. She may have to run from Danganronpa and from Himiko and from Junko and from Kaede all her life. 

But she was running in the right direction. Somehow, Miu could tell that Kaede knew that. The former pianist always used to worry, would do nothing but worry, worry, worry, about where Miu would go, about what she would do. But now, there is an acceptance, a nod of understanding. Kaede knew that Miu was ready to leave. That she had to leave.

Kaede Akamatsu could find home here in Japan. She could find home with this class, with these people. The same people who cry with her, who mourn with her, who understand her sufferings. 

Miu hasn’t found it just yet. But now she knows she can.  

The former pianist rests her forehead against Miu’s, her eyes closed in deep thought as the windchime rings behind them. The streets are quiet and the path is paved for Miu to make her escape, to start anew. The bus will arrive any second now. The wind blows past them. Everything stills.

“I love you, Blondie,” Miu whispers. It’s genuine, guilty and tearful. Her voice breaks, but sounds tranquil. At peace.

Kaede cups the former inventor’s cheeks softly with her hands, placing a long kiss on her forehead before she meets her eyes once more. They stare at each other. The silence is warm.

“I am so proud of the person you are,” Kaede says, voice unbroken. “And I can not wait to see the person you become.”

The sun begins to set and the day turns to night. The candles blow out with the wind and the flowers start to wilt, the tears begin to dry and the blood is cleaned. Days pass and change greets them like an old friend. 

Wounds will heal and they will heal with it. The road to redemption was long, and Miu Iruma could do nothing but start running.

Chapter 5: [ending 5/5]: make himiko shoot herself

“Wait!”

The voice is shrill, loud and frantic. It echoes fiercely around the room, halting Himiko in her spot before she could fully aim at one of them, before she could pull the trigger. 

Miu, sweating nervously and sickeningly pale, leaps out of her seat with both hands extended out in front of her. She demands the room to pause. 

Himiko obliges. Having been waiting for something to stop her, she is quick to lower her gun, beyond grateful for somebody stepping in. The exhale of relief that consumes her nearly takes her to the floor. It wasn’t the solution to her problem-- There was no solution in sight-- But it was a temporary pause that the former mage leaps for, desperate for help, for some kind of assistance. She was desperate. That’s all this was. Desperation. 

Miu steps in the center of the aisle and immediately everybody objects, focusing their mindless, frantic babbling over towards the former inventor, who has now placed herself directly in the line of fire. Himiko’s momentary relief is not met by the rest of the room. Her chest aches and her heart pounds against her ribcage so fiercely that it makes her nauseous. 

Makoto, who had been so silent up until now, holds out an arm and risks consequence just to yell, “Miu, don’t get involved--” 

“What? What? What?” Himiko repeats, desperate to listen, hopelessly begging for a way out. 

“Hello? We’re in the middle of something here,” Kazu remarks, standing at a safe distance. “Move, please.”

Miu looks at Himiko with an expression of apprehensive certainty, an incredibly abrupt idea. Something in her face flickers and for a moment the redhead feels frightened again, another helpless sense of dread settling in once more. Because not only is Miu certain about an idea, but she is certain about a stupid idea. 

And suddenly, Himiko doesn’t feel so relieved.

“He-- He didn’t say you had to shoot Kyoko or Makoto,” Miu states, voice warbling. Himiko can practically feel hope slipping through her fingers. “He said… shoot somebody.” 

The room settles to a silence so uncomfortable that Himiko may as well have shot somebody already. Miu’s gaze flickers, obviously nervous and incredibly unsure about what was just said. Her body curls in on itself as if it was embarrassed for her, quickly backtracking and recoiling no matter how dire the situation was. Himiko’s head pounds with tears she was struggling to hold back, lightheaded and trembling, glaring at Miu with hopeless desperation. Please. 

“...What?” Tenko hollers from the back of the room. She’s balled up on a chair, panic-stricken, bawling her eyes out, but for a moment her horror morphs into pure, dumb confusion. 

Himiko and Miu blink at each other. All of the redhead’s hope was pinned on the girl who had just shot her friend. All of Himiko’s hope was pinned on Miu Iruma. 

“Is there a goal in mind here, Iruma?” The Director asks, still remaining at a reasonable distance. “Or are you stalling? Because I can tell you now, stalling will not earn you any favors--” 

“I-I’m not. I’m not stalling--” The former inventor stammers, clearly taking her time. Clearly stalling. “But you… specifically said… to shoot somebody. You didn’t say… shoot Kyoko or Makoto.” 

“H-He said one or the other!” Tenko states, glancing nervously over at the row across from her. Korekiyo, who may or may not be listening, had his entire head in his lap, arms wrapped around his skull. He would not be helping her. “Obviously that-- Th-That means Kyoko or Makoto!”

“That could mean shoot or not shoot--?” 

“You don’t have to do this,” Kyoko insists, voice frail despite her resilient frown. She stares at the ground still, defiantly refusing to maintain eye contact. “Don’t endanger yourself. You know this is a stretch.”

Makoto turns to the former inventor with an extended arm, “Sh-She’s right, please don’t get yourself hurt, I’m fine with--”

“Don’t say what I think you’re about to say,” Kyoko warns, frantically.  

“You know that she should--”

“Okay, wh-what’s the… what’s the bet?” Miu demands, disregarding the couple. “You said people were making bets. And you-- And you’re rushing to do this, so there must have been a bet.” 

“I’m not so sure what you’re talking about,” The Director states. 

“W-Who was the bet between? Hm? Kyoko and Makoto?”

A beat of stillness.

“Kyoko, Makoto…” The Director answers nonchalantly, voice drifting.

Miu allowed a moment of time to pass before she tilted her head, “And?”

“Other,” The Director finishes, tensely. 

“Kyoko, Makoto, or other,” Miu relays. She spits the last word as if it is a last hope, her lifeline. “You didn’t specify… Y-You just said somebody, so--”

“Always bright, Miss Girl Genius! I did say that!” The Director chirps. He is quick to move forward, grabbing Himiko’s arm again, except this time he uses his steel grip to aim the gun towards the former inventor. “And since you’ve been so insistent on volunteering--” 

“What--? No! No, do not--!” She barks, specifically at Himiko, flinching slightly backwards. The redhead, who was trying with all of her pathetic might to aim down, to point down, rapidly shakes her head to let her classmate know that was not her intention at all. “I didn’t say that…!”

“Let go--!” Himiko whimpers, tugging against Kazu. 

The Director drops her arm again, as if his point had just been proven, “Alright. Then who?”

The redhead glances around the room once more. Most people refuse to meet her eye, now deathly afraid of the power she yields despite being one of the most powerless people in the room. Kyoko averts her gaze to anybody that didn’t have a gun, refusing to greet death in the eye, her stony glare now planted firmly on the panicked Miu rather than the faint Himiko. When he isn’t frantically motioning Miu away from the line of fire, Makoto stares down the barrel of the gun with reckless despair, having accepted his undetermined fate long, long ago.

Then who? 

There wasn’t much of a choice. No matter how desperately Miu tried to convince the redhead that she could do something other than end the life of either Makoto or Kyoko, the decision seemed almost too sturdy to be messed with. There was no getting out of it. Even if Himiko couldn’t choose between the couple, the other options seem remarkably worse. She would never forgive herself for shooting Korekiyo, and she would die before she shot Tenko. Shooting Miu would do nothing-- Not for herself, not for her class, not for Danganronpa. The Director has very clearly withdrawn himself as a candidate, and Himiko is frightened beyond definition to even attempt shooting him. Officials would meet her gunshot with bullets of their own if she were to turn around and aim at them.

Then who? What other option was there? What could Miu possibly be implying?

It looks like the former inventor didn’t even know that herself. She was slowly closing the distance between herself and the redhead, her feet shuffling hesitantly forward, one arm held up as if she was approaching a wild animal. Himiko’s gun aims at her torso before she very quickly snaps back to reality, her unblinking stare wavering as she quickly averts the weapon to the floor. 

“Mind hurrying this up? Somebody should be dead by now,” The Director sighs. He shuffles back to the reasonable distance he had been at before. 

Himiko swallows, hard. Hope escapes just as quickly as it had arrived. Miu’s “Other” option was useless, holding nothing of substance, leaving the redhead just as helpless as she had been before. For she could not shoot The Director, not Tenko, not Korekiyo or Miu or any of the officials. If Miu wasn’t thinking of Makoto or Kyoko, then the only other person was--

...Herself?

It was a morbid thought, a disgustingly familiar idea. It arrives much quicker than she would have liked, the idea forming abruptly and with little warning, hitting her like a baseball to the back of the skull. It bounces around her head, the thought of turning the gun around and killing herself, ending it all before she could reap the consequences. It would be over quickly. It certainly was an easier option, considering everything. Because no matter who she chooses between Makoto and Kyoko, so much of everybody’s life will be changed, for better or for worse, never returning to normal, all because of what Himiko decides. So is dying… truly the easiest way out? What consequences could they possibly bestow on a participant who was no longer there? 

But one look at Tenko stops that thought right in its tracks. One look at Himiko’s aim, the way her gun was beginning to twitch upwards, as if it was preparing to reach her chin, and the former aikido master was once again preparing to stand up. This time with guns directed at her forehead, with the situation live or die, she was still prepared to run. To run on one bad leg. To be that volunteer, if it meant Himiko would still be there. Who was the redhead to kill herself and leave Tenko to suffer the consequences? Who was she to take the easy way out if it meant lifelong misery for her girlfriend?

For a moment, somewhere in her aghast contemplation, she must have seriously flipped the gun towards her chin before rapidly turning it away from herself again. Multiple people are quick to gasp, even at the slight gesture. Everybody flinches, whether it be slight or, in Tenko’s case, a loud exclamation of refusal, except The Director. Everybody moves to react, except The Director.

Oh, Himiko realizes. He didn’t react, because this was the third option. This was “Other”. This was the other way out. 

“Alright, seriously,” Kazu exclaims. “Hurry this shit up. The power’ll be on in like, two minutes.” 

“Th-Then let the power come back on,” Miu bites. She continues to move forward, disconnecting herself from where she had hidden during the second massacre to pass both Makoto and Kyoko. “Let people see that you’re interfering with their stupid bets, o-or--”

“Interfering? I’m not interfering. I’m lightly suggesting.” 

“Lightly--!? Kiss my ass, you’re--!!” 

“What if I do this?” Himiko asks, abruptly, defiantly turning around and aiming the handgun under her chin. 

She ignores the yelling. She ignores the cries. For a moment, Himiko Yumeno is focused only on The Director, trying with all she could to discern some kind of obvious reaction, a glaringly noticeable twitch, something that could imply that this option was in any way in her control. Was she just playing into his hands? Was this what he wanted? She had somehow been given the biggest choice possible while getting no choice at all.

The gun is cold under her chin, comfortably icy. Her hands have stopped shaking, hauntingly confident in her threat. Suddenly, the Director, Miu, and herself are the only people in the room. Suddenly, they are the only people in the world. 

Miu steps forward. She gives a worried look to her left. Maybe she looked at Tenko, who was blurry in the former mage’s vision. Himiko could only focus on two people, could only focus on the icy feeling of the gun under her chin, the way her finger was slowly beginning to squeeze at the trigger.

“Himiko,” It’s Miu’s voice, the only one she could hear out of the wall of sound. The former mage can’t discern any emotion, can not pinpoint feeling. “Himiko, he didn’t say--”  

“Kid, no more thinking. Time is now, ” The Director pushes, voice clipped and urgent. He glances at a smartwatch around his wrist. “Last fucking warning.”

Miu and Himiko stare at each other. Now, it was just them. The former inventor looks uncertain. She doesn’t trust herself or her judgement, but she must speak. Quick as ever, bright as always, Miu Iruma has one last stupid, reckless, hopeless idea.

“He didn’t say fatally , either,” She exclaims.

It’s the thoughtless answer that Himiko had been looking for. Finally, Himiko is able to unfreeze, be present in the situation. It is the hopeless hope she needed, the desperate ending. 

Before The Director can open his mouth and object, the lights whir back to life. Cameras click back on and focus on the scene. The blackout, over. A deep gulp of air runs through the tiny former mage. 

The shaking subsides, and suddenly she is unafraid.

Himiko abruptly lowers the gun and shoots herself in the foot.

-=+=-

TRANSCRIPT, CHANNEL 7 NEWS, JUNE 1ST

FOR PROFESSIONAL USE ONLY

REPORTER ONE: “--Turning the gun away from the couple and instead shooting herself nonfatally in the foot. The former Danganronpa participant Tenko Chabashira would then be seen lunging towards the young girl, further elevating the already tense situation.”

[CUT TO: Clip A, Aftermath of Events in Cyprus Hotel.]

DIRECTOR (within footage): “Wh--!? Oh, you idiot. You idiot.” 

HIMIKO YUMENO (within footage): [LOUD SCREAMING]

MIU IRUMA (within footage): “Me, you dumb bitch!! I meant me!!” 

DIRECTOR (within footage): “You--! Of course you’d fucking ruin it again, of course--”

DANGANRONPA OFFICIAL 1 (within footage): “Sir, permission to shoot?”

MIU IRUMA, TENKO CHABASHIRA, HIMIKO YUMENO, KOREKIYO SHINGUJI (within footage): [LOUD SCREAMING, ALL TALKING OVER EACH OTHER]

DIRECTOR (within footage): “I’m not-- Well, I can’t fucking--”

MAKOTO NAEGI (within footage): “She did what you said, she did what you said!”

DANGANRONPA OFFICIAL 2 (within footage): “Sir, we’re receiving calls already--”

DANGANRONPA OFFICIAL 1 (within footage): “Permission to shoot?”

KYOKO KIRIGIRI (within footage): “Call it. Make the call. I’m sure your viewers will be very happy with your interference.” 

HIMIKO YUMENO (within footage): [PAINED WAILING] 

KYOKO KIRIGIRI (within footage): “Do it.”

TENKO CHABASHIRA (within footage): “Stop, don’t--!!”

[CUT TO: Freeze frame, slow zoom in of Clip A depicting DIRECTOR looking worriedly at the camera.]

REPORTER ONE VOICEOVER: “ The footage was recently recovered from the scene of the crime by Anti-Hope Founder, Kyoko Kirigiri, who allegedly states that the nightmare convention was a plot to uncover the secret organization within Danganronpa’s cast. While it is unclear exactly why Danganronpa’s CEO and head Director would surrender his plan to murder either Makoto Naegi or Kyoko Kirigiri through Himiko Yumeno, many have speculated that the decision was fueled by the incredibly backlash faced during Season 53 of the the same show. It was during this season that the overabundance of interference from the production team, specifically from the Director and former Danganronpa Participant Tsumugi Shirogane, faced a great deal of criticism.”

[CUT TO: Soundwave visual of phone call.]

ANONYMOUS DANGANRONPA EMPLOYEE (over phone call): “Yeah-- Yeah, it was seriously bad. It was the first time that company had ever faced backlash that heavy-- And it wasn’t for the right reason, haha. There were sponsors that pulled out, people who were seriously funding the production of, uh, the show. A-And it wasn’t because this show was... seriously traumatizing these children, or anything--”

JOURNALIST (voice over): “No, no.”

ANONYMOUS DANGANRONPA EMPLOYEE (over phone call): “It was because things weren’t… playing out naturally. If that makes sense. I mean, it was always this artificial, but now-- Now people were seriously confronted by it. ”

JOURNALIST (voice over): “Yeah.”

ANONYMOUS DANGANRONPA EMPLOYEE (over phone call): “So, yeah. I definitely think if he-- if he were to call the shot when the power came back on, it would be over for him. That, and, uh, Himiko Yumeno wasting that bullet-- Like, that was enough for the people watching, y’know? People won their bets, already, so even though the ending was a bit mushy it wasn’t really worth killing anybody and risking getting called “artifical” again.”

JOURNALIST (voice over): “Definitely.” 

ANONYMOUS DANGANRONPA EMPLOYEE (over phone call): “Up until that point, that was the most “natural” game to play out. Ever. I-I mean, no personality rewrites? No implanted memories? Those were just… a bunch of people. Those really were just… a bunch of people in a terrible situation. A-And once that got out, it really… it really was confronting.”

[CUT TO: Camera B, REPORTER ONE sitting at desk.]

REPORTER ONE: “Currently Himiko Yumeno, along with many other participants from the same convention, is stationed at NewHill Emergency Center and is reportedly recovering well. Sentencing for the Danganronpa officials involved with this real life killing game has yet to be announced, but the harsh sentencing of the company is most likely to pronounce any contract made with the participants null and void. More information about this event will be reported as it unfolds--”

-=+=-

Private Message

June 4th, 7:30 AM

Unknown Number: [Image Description: It’s a selfie. Junko Enoshima is in a hospital bed, wearing a hospital gown, looking pale but not sickly. Her hair is stuck to her face in sweat, but her eyes look a bit brighter, like she had just been given some good news. With her signature grin, she holds up a small baggie with a damaged bullet in it.]

Unknown Number: is miu gonna want this back or can i keep it

June 4th, 9:24 AM

Himiko Yumeno: [Image Description: It’s a selfie. Himiko is also in a hospital bed. Only half of her face is shown. She squints at the camera.]

Himiko Yumeno: how did you get my phne number?

-=+=-

On July 26th, Kaede Akamatsu invites the class to a movie night. On July 27th, Ryoma suggests that they all watch a movie together in person. And on July 28th, Himiko was released from the hospital. 

She wasn’t the first, and she most certainly won’t be last. Himiko had apparently “hit something weird” in her foot when she shot at it frantically, meaning that her foot injury warranted more hospital time than Shuichi’s stomach wound, which “hadn’t hit anything vital”. Tenko was admitted and discharged from the hospital and Himiko was still there. Kaito was admitted, got himself in a bit of trouble for continuing to run on an incredibly injured ankle, but was still discharged before Himiko was. Even Shuichi, pale but still smiling, was able to sign back into the hospital as a visitor just to say hello to the bedridden redhead. It was a little embarrassing.

Himiko kinda liked her hospital room, though. People brought in bright balloons and flowers until the dull hospital room felt alive once more. She got to make friends and share her gifts with the participants who occupied the room with her: A remarkably bitter Ultimate Traditional Dancer with an infected stab wound to the leg, and a “‘Lil” Ultimate Homeroom who already had minor complications with her spine from an incident in the simulator that had to again be admitted. The former traditional dancer came off very headstrong at first, stating that it was very stupid for Himiko to do that, but eventually the mutual inability to get up and exit the room forced them to at least be amicable. 

Junko Enoshima, lucky to be alive, resided in a hospital quite far away. She was stationed in NewHill, like Himiko had been, but for reasons unknown had been transported to another, much smaller unit outside of Japan. Miu had asked if she was okay every single day that Junko was unconscious, and on the day she woke up the only thing the strawberry blonde asked was if she could see her. Maki had suspected they moved her to a different hospital to avoid publicity, finally giving Junko Enoshima a break from the glaring spotlight that was Danganronpa. Kaito had guessed that they needed to keep her hidden from Danganronpa so that she could make a statement. So that they couldn’t hurt her further before she denounced the company in its entirety. 

Once she had left the hospital, Himiko Yumeno fled as fast as she possibly could. She had already kept her entire class here, waiting for her recovery, so it was more than important that she gave the okay to flee the country once more. Danganronpa was imploding, whether that be because of Miu and Himiko’s actions or the AHL, and the only thing on everybody’s minds was to quickly evacuate before they got caught in the crossfire. It was as if they were running for their lives. Not only has Season 53 screwed over their own season, but they’ve now just screwed up the most recent one and quite possibly Danganronpa as a whole.

Court dates will be finalized, lawyers will have to be called. It isn’t over, but it is the beginning of the end. 

It isn’t over. As much as a part of Himiko still tries to convince herself of that, another, much more tired part of her was ready to accept the bitter, easy end. Everybody could see it, everybody in the world. Sponsors were dropping out faster than Danganronpa could breathe. All of those “premium viewers”, the same people who had paid to watch another, real killing game, have betrayed the company they had been so loyal to with the snap of a finger. Danganronpa couldn’t afford another mistake, and when that blackout ended, when those cameras turned back on, Danganronpa’s mistake hit them like a boulder. 

Himiko isn’t sure what The Director would have done if she had ended up shooting somebody. Would he have just… left? The lights would have turned back on, and all the viewers would have seen was Himiko shooting somebody directly in the face with seemingly no motive behind it. Would that have been it? That ending was nearly as bad as the one they had already experienced. Too many holes for the viewers to fill in. Too many lost details.

But once again everything has gone wrong, once again the ending was foiled through indecision. It’s scary to think about what would have happened if Himiko made a choice, so she chooses not to. 

Aside from when she had shot herself in the foot, obviously sobbing in pain, Himiko hasn’t cried once. It was a very, very weird feeling. Everything feels like a dream, like she is walking through life in a weird daze, never thinking too hard of the events that had just transpired. 

Perhaps she was still in shock. Yes, that was probably it. Many of her friends were still in shock, too, just couldn’t believe it. Danganronpa had been so reckless with the lives of their participants, and the company’s last ditch effort to restore order had only made everything much worse. It was silly. Pointless, even. 

Pointless. That was it. So many people’s lives have been lost. And for what? Just for Danganronpa to fold in on itself, to crash and burn? 

They were lucky to have such a lenient landlord back at their old apartment complex in Canada. They were lucky to have crossed that border without being stopped. They were lucky to have made it out of Japan alive.

They were lucky to have made it out of that hotel alive.

It’s a little unbelievable, and Himiko finds herself shocked every time she is reminded of how it all ended. In that moment it had been the most important choice of her life, the most important decision she could ever make. Looking back, it all feels so insignificant. Like there was an answer so simple all along, and nobody had thought of it except for Miu at the very last second. 

Himiko hasn’t felt complete relief, yet. Maybe she’s waiting for something else to happen. Miu had talked about that with her during one of her visits to the hospital-- She has never felt entirely safe. Maybe safety was a feeling that was now foreign to Himiko, as well. 

Was it too much to ask for? To feel as if it was finally over? To feel safe?

“Does anybody mind if I put chocolate in the popcorn?” Kaito yells from the kitchen. His voice is loud, more confident than it has been, and snaps Himiko awake instantly. And if that didn’t wake her up, the yells of disagreement that followed certainly would have. “....Alright, I’m gonna take that as ‘everybody minds’!”

The television screen in Kaede and Miu’s tiny apartment was black, and Himiko could see herself very clearly in it. Eyes just a little bit brighter. Hair just a little bit longer. She wears her comfy bunny sweater and doesn’t have to worry about her white skirt getting dirty. Her nails have been painted by a former survivor and her cheeks are just ever so slightly rosier. The days go by and she grows stronger. 

Her left foot rests on an ottaman, wrapped in a faded white cast, signed with the names of every member of Season 53. Kaede wrote her signature neatly, and drew a heart to dot the ‘i’. Gonta was slow to write his name, but his handwriting is the neatest on the cast. Korekiyo wrote his name so small that Himiko had to squint to see it. Kokichi wrote his name so massive that it completely covered Kaito’s. 

“MOVE, MOVE, MOVE,” Miu hollers, barrelling over legs and people, clutching a massive bowl of popcorn on her hands.

Kokichi, who had been curled up next to Himiko, grimaces jokingly and begins to shove at the passing strawberry blonde, “Would you get your fat ass out of the way? I can’t see the screen.”

“You wish you had a piece of this fat ass.”

“I’d rather drown myself,” The former inventor deadpans, grabbing a large handful of the popcorn.

Miu snorts and takes her seat in a nearby chair, very blatantly sitting on top of the already seated Kaede. The blonde smacks her in the arm. 

Tenko, in a longskirt and sweater, rushes back into the room with a handful of DVD boxes, shuffling through them like playing cards as she stands in front of the television screen. Kokichi, mouth full of popcorn, audibly grunts in objection. 

“O-Okay, I think I found a movie that everybody should be comfortable with!” She exclaims, holding up the box for Ponyo, “I mean, Ryoma already said he was okay with fish, and I think Korekiyo is fine with the water, so the only thing to really look out for, I guess, is any sort of subliminal messaging that I might have missed while reading through the summary--”

“Are you still choosing a movie?” Ryoma asks, walking into the room in a shirt that was way too big for him, helping Gonta carry an excessive amount of blankets. Kirumi walks in behind them, a bit more slowly, with an open bag of candy.

“No! No, I, uh, found something!”

She nervously holds up Ponyo. Tenko is determined to have this movie night go well. Himiko can see her reading over the box for the fortieth time, eyebrows furrowed, before she turns around to start setting up the movie. 

The rest of the class begin to slowly pile in, stacking on top of each other just to fully occupy the small couch. Himiko shifts and squirms to make room, holding a hand out to her right to reserve a space for her girlfriend, shoving a playfully insistent Kokichi away from the spot as he continues to rush towards Tenko’s empty seat on the couch. A few start to sit on the floor, with Rantaro’s head nearing Himiko’s leg. Shuichi gets carried in by Gonta, despite him nervously repeating that he was fine to walk and being carried was completely unnecessary, and gets dropped unelegantly at the end of the couch, laughing awkwardly. 

“Turn off your phones,” Maki instructs, noticing how Angie had forgotten to silence her ringer and was getting repetitive dings from her device, “Shut it off for a bit.”

“Such a mother,” Kirumi teases. Rantaro chuckles, elbowing her lightly for her joke. 

Himiko takes the moment of shuffling to glance around and do a quick head count. Maki and Kaito were sitting together, Tenko was starting the movie, Shuichi and Kokichi were on the couch. Kirumi was there and Angie was giggling with her, Gonta and Ryoma were setting up the food and drinks so that everybody could reach it equally. Rantaro, Miu, and Kaede had started a conversation in sign language and were clearly making dirty jokes. The mood was light. Very, very light. 

It was such a nice feeling, as much as it felt slightly off. Pleasant, despite its backwards nature. Himiko had escaped from immeasurable trauma, had been lucky amidst horrors beyond imagination, and now she is away from it all again, back in Canada. Except this time, her class is united, closer than they had ever been during or after their killing game, giggling with each other as if they had never been in that hotel in the first place. Himiko sat next to classmates that had been nothing more than acquaintances to her a few weeks ago. They all treated each other like friends. Like they had always been real friends.

Something positive out of something so negative. Even that feeling felt out of place.

Himiko counts the classmates as they finally find their seats, puckering her lips. They all moved and talked a bit too much for her liking, but she’ll distract herself from the noise by doing a quick headcount. 

“We’re missing one--”

“Get K1-B0! Hey! Miu!” Kokichi badgers from his seat. The former inventor squints at him. “Get K1-B0!” 

“I fuckin’ heard you! I-- Ugh,” Miu, still reluctant to outwardly agree with Kokichi despite them coming to terms with each other, fishes for her phone from her back pocket. “I’m leavin’ soon, I don’t wanna drag Keebs out of the room with me--” 

“Leave them here!! Don’t be such a greedy whore.”

Miu sharply sends him the middle finger without looking up from her device, and Kokichi laughs at it instead of smiling scornfully, “I’m not leavin’ without my phone!”

“The movie should be over by then,” Kaede says softly, chin on Miu’s shoulder.

“Where are you headed?” Shuichi asks.

Kokichi grins, “Community service?”

“Shaddup, ya turd!” Miu snaps back, shoulders raising in defense. She raises the cellphone, cowering in on herself until it basically covers her face, mumbling a more timid, “T-That’s on Friday…”

Miu’s lax “community service” was barely court ordered as much as it was a personal debt that the former inventor insisted that she owed. Himiko has been told multiple times by the strawberry blonde that she was not allowed to visit her while she was completing her community service hours, as it was, quote, “too fuckin’ embarassing”. Kokichi however, ever the rule breaker, loves showing up every Friday. He tries to tell Himiko that it’s to make fun of her, but he always comes home just a little bit dirtier. 

Tenko reckons he helps.

And the funny thing is, Junko doesn’t really care that much . Himiko doesn’t speak with the former despair that often-- For a good reason, she’s in another side of the country and talking on the phone obviously takes a lot of well-needed energy-- But a lot of the time they communicate via a group call consisting of Korekiyo and occasionally Miu. When Miu is there, it is purely apologies. Junko has made it very clear that she really “didn’t give a shit”, pretty nonchalantly stating that there was no need to press charges, but it was still happening, anyways. Miu complained about community service all the time, but she still attends anyways. Deep down she must have known it was right.

“Sayaka invited her for dinner,” Kaede answers. Her voice was still raspy, still quite audibly wrecked, but it sounded like much less of a struggle to speak. “She’ll have to leave.”

Miu frowns, “Yeah, we’ve got a reservation, and then we’re tryna call Akane before it’s too late, so unless you can pull a whole bunch of time outta your asshole I need to make this movie quick--”

“Could Sayaka have chosen literally anywhere else to hide?” Kokichi pouts. “Canada is our place…..”

Maki, walking behind the couch after grabbing a glass of water, flicks him in the back of the head. 

“Korekiyo, where is he?” Himiko announces, pushing herself forward to look around. The former anthropologist was the only one not present. “Is he in the kitchen--?”

“Got ‘em,” Miu declares. For a second Himiko thinks she is talking about Korekiyo, but as soon as she turned towards the former inventor she could clearly see that Miu was awkwardly attempting to prop her phone against the armrest of the seat. “Give me a fuckin’ moment…”

“HELLO, ROBOT!” Kokichi yells at an empty screen. He gets no reply.

“Kory, the movie’s starting!” Rantaro hollers over his shoulder, able to discern Himiko’s concern for his absence over the crowd of classmates. 

Korekiyo Shinguji was the last person in the room, eyes straight down towards his phone. He types very strangely, slowly tapping in one letter at a time with his middle finger instead of his index, obviously intently focused on the message being constructed. His jacket is long and comfortable and there’s an unkempt nature to his short hair, clearly less taken care of than it had been previously. His lips are pressed into a concentrated, thin line. No mask to be seen.

“Apologies,” He mumbles, glancing briefly upwards to meet Himiko’s eyes. She squints playfully at him. Korekiyo is quick to show his phone’s screen towards her, revealing a large block of text. “I’ve been trying to explain to my therapist my reasons behind cancelling our appointment--”

“You’re hanging out with friends!” Himiko exclaims, throwing both hands in the air. 

“...I shall make amendments to my text,” After he states this, Korekiyo starts walking and texting again, mumbling what he was typing under his breath. “Hanging… with friends….”

“Phone off once you’re done,” Maki repeats.

Korekiyo begins to type faster, wincing at every spelling mistake, before he rapidly sends a half-hearted apology text and takes his seat politely in the second chair. He was perfectly content with keeping his space, happy to be stationed in a chair with a tea and a blanket, still sitting upright when most everyone else had taken their spots lazily. Korekiyo shuts his phone off and returns the awkward smile that Himiko had flashed at him. 

Korekiyo has been okay recently. “Okay” in a Danganronpa participant’s book was far away from the “okay” to a regular person, and that in no way means that absolutely everything is fine, but there was a very distinct difference between the person he once was compared to the person he is now. He battled it out with Tenko during the first few days that Himiko was in hospital, having to pick and choose which days he visited that wouldn’t interfere with Tenko’s visits (which, considering Tenko’s adamant concern, was frequent), but in the end the pair had truced so that they were able to visit the redhead more often. Korekiyo always came in with something for Himiko to do, a book that he had just read or a story he could tell, informing his friend of what was happening outside so that she was never out of the loop. Telling her how the class was coping. Trying his best to give a prompt answer on how he was faring, as well.

One day he had entered without his mask and Himiko didn’t recognize him. It was during the time period when legal charges against Danganronpa were starting, when Kyoko had successfully managed to flee the hotel and began a very convincing argument against the company, the first time after the horrors of the convention that things were starting to grow brighter . Makoto, guilty and desperate to do the right thing, screwed either way, was slowly, hesitantly starting to break away, doing anything he could to help Kyoko amidst the heavy persecution he was facing as well. Himiko knew that good things were happening behind the scenes because Korekiyo had entered the room with an uneven, dorky grin. His teeth were a bit less even than they had been in the simulator, just like Himiko’s, and whenever he smiled it always wobbled nervously. 

But it was a smile, hesitant yet still there, and all Himiko could do was smile with him. She had spent so long struggling to read his expression based off of eyes alone, but his grin was quite the obvious tell that he was at least doing better. 

Tenko and Korekiyo weren't the only ones to visit. It took a second for the class to start visiting immediately, obviously still reeling from the events that had just transpired, but once legal action had started to be taken Himiko began to notice a much brighter attitude with her classmates. Angie and Rantaro painted her nails and gossiped until there was quite literally nothing else they could have talked about. Kaito and Maki came in with a deck of cards and engaged in perhaps the most heated game of “Go Fish” that Himiko had ever been a part of. Kirumi teaches how to crochet and they’re both terrible at it. Gonta and Ryoma bring board games. The frequent visits from her class were great in distracting her from the pain that was her foot, as well everything else that she undoubtedly was going to suffer through once she left the hospital.

It’s a concern for later. Thoughts of the convention made her heart heavy, her chest ache. It was too much for somebody that young to have gone through, too much trauma for anybody to have experienced within their lifetime. It just hurts to think about. It shouldn’t have been this way. 

She’s glad that he’s here, though. It’s not as awkward as it used to be. Everybody is more comfortable with his presence, and he is more comfortable with his class. 

Tenko inserts the disk and runs back to take her place, careful not to disturb Himiko’s foot or jostle Shuichi too much as she crawls underneath the blanket. Angie flips off the lights, and the room falls into a restless silence as the movie begins to play. 

“Be quiet, be quiet,” Kaito whispers.

Tenko squints in his direction, “Nobody was talking--?”

“Ssshh,” Maki interrupts.

“I-I was just telling him--!!”

The first few minutes move smoothly. Kokichi cracks jokes and Miu yells at him for cracking those jokes, people eat popcorn and finish up the drinks, Angie makes comments about the animation as the movie progresses. It’s amazing to finally have one of these movie nights in person, without the interference of internet borders, without constant buffering and connection issues. Ryoma can talk and his voice doesn’t get cut out due to lag. For once it is not awkward to be around these people. For once, it is not uncomfortable sitting in a room with her classmates, it isn’t completely tense or unbearable. The horrors have ended, only for them to reap the minimal rewards. To finally experience the foreign feeling of trusting one another.

And then the movie progresses. Himiko can feel the previous excitement begin to leave until every classmate is entirely silent. People began to stop reaching for the popcorn, stopped making jokes. Suddenly they are quiet again. It wasn’t that important of a scene for everybody to suddenly reach total silence. 

It wasn’t the kind of silence that implied they were engrossed by the movie, either. In fact, it seemed to be the exact opposite. Like barely any of them were paying attention. 

Himiko knows for a fact that she isn’t paying attention. She’s got too much on her mind. The colours on screen meld and morph until they form a blurry, ambiguous blob in her eyes. The music and dialogue form one lasting note, incomprehensible, drowned out until it was purely an accompaniment to her thoughts. Tenko becomes blurry in her peripheral vision, everybody by her side drifts away until she is the only one in the room.

It all felt so unreal. 

Himiko will never be able to truly put a label on what she was feeling. On how she should feel. It’s different than how she had felt upon waking up from the simulator-- Then, there was an astounding relief to seeing her friends happy and alive, a terrible stress that came with the ending. An awful feeling of remorse over not doing enough, over not being important enough, a feeling of regret that no teenager should ever have to endure. But now, after another game, the shock and horror of the situation seems to have faded into nonchalance, an almost dismissive attitude towards the situation that she couldn’t quite place her finger on. It’s an unusual hollowness, a grateful acknowledgement that her friends are okay once again but a numbness that overcomes her before she could think too hard. 

Himiko sits and watches Ponyo knowing that she will never truly be alright again, knowing that a part of her that had been forever soiled by the horrors she had come across. It’s familiar and heavy, a thought that pushes down even more strongly now, a tiredness that keeps her stuck to her seat. Her foot aches and her back cramps with a phantom pain that simply was not there anymore. Colours meld together. Was she the only one thinking about this? Sounds click and become nauseating to listen to. Her nose twitches and she feels heavy. 

Nobody talks, and Himiko can do nothing but think forward. It was impossible to think of a world without Danganronpa. How unfair, how terribly unfair, that even after the company started to crumble, even after the legal issues are over and the show arrives at its end, people like Himiko will be plagued by its memory for the rest of her being. She had lived through enough trauma to last lifetimes and lifetimes, enough trauma that would ensure she never got a good night’s rest again. Enough trauma that would ensure she would never go to another hotel, that would ensure she would never look at a vent the same way, or conventions or magic shows or shotput balls or hospitals. Or Macbeth or hope or electronic locks or Makoto Naegi. Sickles make her choke up and the dark scares her, putting her head underwater makes her feel as if she was in the deep ocean much too quickly. She can’t stand elevators, she despises crowds but she hates being alone even more.

It’s not fair. There’s a bitterness that comes with “winning”, because she knows that she won’t be the same again. She can’t be the same person she was before this had all started. 

Somebody says something. It’s out of the blue and obviously sparks discussion, because Tenko reaches over to pause the movie. It’s a gentle reminder that other people were there with Himiko, that the world hadn’t just suddenly stopped spinning around her. 

“I can’t concentrate,” Angie had said, or at least she said something along those lines. “Could we talk?”

It was nice to know that Himiko wasn’t the only one thinking about this instead of paying attention, because she was starting to feel a bit bad. Her head remains forward at the television screen, but she can see the people in front of her and their stony expressions, the way they all start to huddle even closer together, as if ready to address each other. 

“What the hell do we do, now?” 

Kaito is the first one to ask the question, awkwardly scratching at his head. The participants chuckle dryly, knowing that the blunt question was the only question on all of their minds. 

And it was a big one, at that. What do they do now? Most of them had the money to live comfortably for lifetimes over. Perhaps none of them would need a job ever again. These teenagers had been given money that most people could only dream of having. Himiko could break all of her bones three times over and never have to worry about the hospital bill. 

They could pay for as much therapy as they needed. The thought nearly made Himiko sick. A terrible feeling of dread lingers over her, the fact that she will be spending the rest of her life in therapy after what has happened to them . The thought of never getting better shakes her to her very core, the idea that she will never be at peace again. It’s a possibility that she can not deny. A possibility that nobody there could dismiss. 

“I’m trying not to think about it, if I’m going to be honest,” Ryoma admits. The class nods with him, agreeing with great candor that they’d rather not think about what had happened. “It’s all… been a blur.”

“I haven’t been given much of a choice,” Shuichi replies tiredly, with a nervous chuckle. “Legal… stuff, I guess. I’ve been chatting with Tsumugi of all people.”

“Ooo, new lawyer?” Kokichi quips. 

The former detective grins, “No. She just knows her way around contracts, that’s all.”

“Hey, hey! Once Miu gets K1-B0’s body in working order, the whole class will be back! It’ll be like they never left!”

At his joke, the group wearily throw their fists in the air, sparing a cynical, congratulatory whoop. They all know that Tsumugi was staying where she was for the time being and quite likely will never be coming to Canada, at least if they had any say in it, but the thought of a full class reunion was funny in itself. Getting this many people to like and feel comfortable around each other took two whole killing games, and Himiko was not ready to go through another just to do the same thing she did with Korekiyo and make friends with Tsumugi Shirogane.

“I’m just glad that we all made it out in one piece,” Rantaro states after the laughter dies down. He looks over at Himiko’s cast and knocks at it playfully, earning a giggle from the redhead. “Most of us, at least.”

“Yeah, some people weren’t so lucky,” Kokichi nods, smiling a bit too facetiously.

Maki reaches over to smack him against the leg, with a warning of “Tone”, making the former supreme leader mutter an apology her way. 

Heavy silence falls again, except this time the redhead can hear Tenko starting to sniff from next to her, already getting emotional. The movie has stopped and now all Himiko could be aware of was her classmates, all of whom were sighing deeply and staring off into the distance, distracted. 

Death was hard to think about. An excessive amount of lives had been taken, an abundance of innocent people who would never see their families again, or live out the rest of their lives like the rest of them must do. There was a conjoined funeral that was going to take place during an upcoming month, and it is the only reason that Himiko and her class would ever fly back to Japan. The only reason. 

Another person sniffs, except this time it is not Tenko. It is loud and clearly distraught. Himiko turns her head to see Miu with her head in her hands, quickly waving people away as they begin to look at her.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry…!” Kaede whispers, her own bottom lip wobbling as she quickly wipes away the former inventor’s tears.

“Eugh, I-I’m not--! Don’t look, don’t look!” Miu insists, voice wavering. “Stop ogglin’ me or I’ll start ugly crying…!”

“Quit it! You’re going to make Gonta cry as well!” Kokichi warns. Miu guffaws, snottily. 

Gonta sniffs loudly as well, fanning his eyes, “Gon-- I been crying already…!”

“D-Dang it!” Tenko curses at herself, resting her head back on her couch and hiding her eyes in the crook of her elbow, smiling at herself sardonically. “I’ve already cried so much already…” She hiccups, loudly, “I-I’m getting all snotty….”

Himiko’s head falls onto her shoulder, earning another watery laugh from her girlfriend. Tenko knows there’s no stopping her cries now, and that was what is so bitterly amusing to her. The former aikido master holds Himiko close, eyes growing red against her best wishes, warmly giving Himiko a kiss to her forehead.

“You really might have saved our skins, back there. At that final moment,” Kaito says. Himiko looks over to notice that he was addressing her, from where he sat next to Maki on the floor. The two of them look up at Himiko and her cast, deeply contemplative. Kaito gestures over towards Miu with his right hand. “Both of you.”

“It was all Miu’s idea,” Himiko quickly diverted. Her voice sounds small, like she had something lodged in her throat.

Miu snorts sarcastically, “I-I didn’t shoot myself in the foot.”

“Y-Yeah, but I wasn’t… thinking about--” 

“Give yourself some fuckin’ credit. I don’t really deserve any,” The former inventor sniffs at the same time, wiping her eyes and finally sitting upright again. “I just wish those fuckin’ newsroom cunts would keep my name outta their mouths.”

“It is overwhelmingly positive,” Korekiyo adds, softly, as if attempting to ease the blow. His eyes glance over at Himiko. “For the both of you.”

Himiko feels nothing towards that statement. She avoids the news channel like it was the plague. Every day she is grateful to have made it out of Japan before she was drowned in interviews, in people walking up to her and badgering her with questions she could not answer, about the decision she had made, the journey leading up to it.

“I don’t want credit,” Himiko says. It’s blunt. 

“That is understandable,” Kirumi replies, politely searching for a napkin that they had left out on the coffee table. Even she had tears forming in the corner of her eyes. Night was approaching and they were all growing tired. “We can only hope that the media dies off, eventually.”

The redhead could feel pressure beginning to mount on her, a headache forming as she attempts to remain stony in demeanour. She stares forward at the pause screen of Ponyo as if it would move if she glared at it hard enough.

“No, not just that. I-I mean--” Her words are clipped short and she quickly looks down, hurriedly dismissing the possibility of a tear forming. “I just-- I-I really spent the entire time thinking ‘oh… what can I do? What can I do?’ A-And I should have never been thinking that at all… I never should have… had to. It just wasn’t--”

She can’t find the right words. She can’t find the right feeling, or find the correct label for her emotions. It was all about what she could do, how she could help. How she could prove herself. Has she done that? Has she done that, now? 

Himiko barely felt as if she had achieved anything but survival. That’s what it was-- she survived, whether that be because of luck or through her own actions. She looks over at people like Miu, who had fought and struggled to be alive, had protected herself through her own means, and can’t help but wonder if she deserved credit, as well. 

The idea of awarding credit for good deeds in a horrid event such as this was an idea that did not sit well with Himiko, and seemingly didn’t sit well with Miu, either. The former inventor’s face was scrunched as she stared down at the floor, face puffy and cheeks wet with tears, playing nervously with her hair. She had made it out of this hotel in a manner completely unlike Himiko’s and seemed to regret it just as much, probably even more so, than the redhead did. There was no coming out of this convention without some sort of regret. 

“Fair,” Miu finishes. She spits the word at the ground as if it were vile in her mouth, acid on her tongue. “I-It wasn’t fuckin’ fair…”

Another moment of contemplation passes. Himiko knew that their time together was running short, that Miu would have to leave and that the class would eventually grow too tired to continue, but nobody was making any effort to truly continue the movie. Kaito and Maki, the latter in a large sweatshirt that definitely belonged to the former astronaut, mumble to each other wearily. Angie, her curly hair in a ponytail and dyed a less obvious brown, talks with Tenko and Kirumi. Miu sniffs and attempts to pull herself together. Nobody could blame any of them for being emotional, especially after an event like that had only just happened.

Kaito reaches for the popcorn only to realize that he had eaten all of it within the first ten minutes of the movie. The cast laugh with him, their chuckles watery and airy. Himiko meant what she said about feeling comfortable with them. It was nice to sit alongside them, even as they cried and stumbled and tripped over their words. They hide from the outside but are together as they do so, together as they run away, together as they continue life outside of Danganronpa. They cry and giggle as a class, finally, awkwardly, as teenagers should do. 

Kokichi slaps his hand abruptly over his eyes, not ever letting the others catch him getting emotional when he couldn’t help it, and quickly yells, “Just turn on the stupid movie already!” 

And they all grin and agree. And nobody argues, and Miu doesn’t yell but instead laughs with him. In return, Kokichi does not make jabs at her becoming so emotional, the pair having reached a truce through surrender. The former supreme leader peeks out from under his hand to check if she was smiling. Finally, their war has reached peace.

Himiko notices change. She notices it more than anything. The bad, of course, but the good, as well. The good that crept in through the floorboards, that snuck up by surprise. Himiko can see change in her classmates, in Angie’s hair colour and Korekiyo’s haircut, in the bags under Kokichi’s eyes and Kaede’s song-like voice returning. She can see change in Kirumi’s smile when she addresses Ryoma, in the lax posture that Gonta has started using when talking to Miu, in the jokes that Kokichi cracks. There’s change in how Tenko sits when in a room with Korekiyo, there’s change in how Shuichi holds himself when talking to others.

Korekiyo had his head resting on his fist. Himiko was quick to notice that he used his eyes to express much more than he did with his mouth, but even then his lips were sealed into nothing short of a content smile. Rantaro had asked him a question, one that Himiko dismissed, but she could see the way the former anthropologist jumped to answer, how he had so much to say. 

Korekiyo had so much to say. And there was a change in his confidence, in his ability to forgive himself. 

Himiko would be lying if she told herself there was absolutely no hope for the future when she sees the way that Korekiyo’s eyes light up when he knows the answer. When he feels comfortable to share. To be around a class that accepts him. 

Somebody starts up the movie again. The colours blur in a way that confuses her, the pictures meld together until they’ve grown incomprehensible once more. 

And Himiko realizes, much too late, that she has begun sobbing. 

Tears fell rapidly down her face before she could catch them, a choked cry escaping her lips much louder than the television’s volume could ever hide. Her grip against the blanket nor her hold on Tenko prepared her for the sudden, unpleasant sob that arrives as soon as the movie starts up again, one that no participant could ignore. Her hands shake even as she clutches at her arms, and she knows she is not crying because of the unfairness of it all. Or because she will never be the same, or never feel quite “right” again. 

Himiko Yumeno does not cry because she is ruined, but because there was hope. And it was not the kind that Danganronpa could sell. There is a possibility, Himiko realizes. 

Maybe they will be okay.

She cries and wails, shoulders jolting and entire body trembling, the weeks of pent up anguish finally arriving in the form of ugly wails, of unnattractive sobs. She heaves and weeps and allows all of her makeup to run down her face, to ruin her sweater, to stain her white skirt. She mourns for those who could not mourn, grieves for those who could not grieve, for the person she once was and the person she must become. Himiko Yumeno cries until her stomach aches and she is left with nothing but herself and her friends, until she is a teenager again, until she can no longer hear her own thoughts.

Himiko cries for the new her that she must let grow, for her friends that must grow with her. They cry with her until they are all joined in one, dissonant, disgusting chorus, most of them laughing at themselves or embracing, desperate to hold whoever they could as the movie continues, as the credits roll. They leave their chairs and join the centre couch, dismissing their differences for this one movie night. They hug each other out of grief, out of anger and denial, out of remorse and empathy. 

Out of relief. Out of a change of heart, an apology, an act of forgiveness. Out of kindness or understanding, a bittersweet reunion. And Himiko cries and cries, long after they have stopped crying with her, knowing that there is a future out there for her that she can reach. A place for her that will treat her kindly.

She cries for a Himiko that can change and be worthy of change. A world that will be fair to her friends, that will hold them together. The possibilities scared her as much as it did the rest of her class, the bittersweetness of it all. The abrupt end and the uncertainty. 

But she will cry. And she will be kind. And she will be okay. For there was nothing that Himiko Yumeno could do except move forward, and the universe will simply have to move forward with her.

Notes:

thank you for reading!! <3

tumblr is @okthatsgreat :]

tell me what ending you chose first here!!: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdx05IBf4D9fpEtoK0A2ixsqZKXXKkAS_oZM4jYMk-m8lPq7g/viewform?usp=sf_link

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of or did it eat the little girl?