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The cool breeze of the leaf-fall evening bristled Robinwings brown fur as he watched the black, tall tom-cat return. «Nothing suspicious in that area either», he reported. Robinwing nodded. «Alright, let's go to the river then. We should hurry - moonrise will be soon».
With a quick glance with his amber eyes, the black warrior started walking. The colorful leaves below the two toms' paws crackled with every step they took. In the distance, Robinwing could hear the river. He could smell the scent of the wet earth near the riverbanks and could almost feel the mud beneath his paws, as the fresh breeze brought a familar scent to him. ThunderClan, he thought. He sped up his steps. «Come on, Nightbrook, I can smell ThunderClan cats close to the border», he said and started to dash off, making the leaves whirl up behind him and dance in the breeze for a moment before they would touch the ground again. The sound of paws hitting the ground behind him signalized him that Nightbrook was right behind him.
The two cats reached the river and looked around to make sure that no ThunderClan cat was on their territory. At first Robinwing didn't find anything, but then he spotted a small, white and brown ball of fur stumbling through the leaves near the river. The brown cat felt how Nightbrooks fur started to bristle and he unleashed his claws. Before Robinwing could do anything, Nightbrook dashed off, ready to attack the young cat. «Nightbrook, stop! That's just a kit!», Robinwing yelled, his green eyes widened, but Nightbrook didn't even slow down as he replied. «It's still a ThunderClan cat on RiverClan territory!«
Robinwing went after the black cat as fast as he could. Nightbrook already had the young kit in front of him and raised his claws, ready to attack the young cat, which was now cowering, eyes filled with fear as it stared at the sharp claws of the tall warrior. Before Robinwing could reach them, Nightbrooks claws hit the young kit. The brown warrior was about to stop in shock as he saw the kit fly a fox length away, a large wound on its side and blood streaming out of it. Nightbrook turned around, his fur still bristled and showed his teeth aggressively. Another wound would kill the kit for sure. I can not let this happen!, Robinwing thought and sped up one last time, smashing himself against Nightbrook as he raised his claws again. In the next moment, his fur was soaked with ice cold water. He pushed Nightbrook and himself into the river.
The water was stealing his sight, filling his mouth and ears as he struggled to find out where to swim to get back to the surface. He felt something pulling him deeper into the water. It was Nightbrook. The black cat had an expression of anger, yet his panic was showing. His claws dug into Robinwings fur, leaving him unable to get out of the water as the weigth of Nightbrook dragged him deeper and deeper. Slowly, the lack of air numbed Robinwings' senses. He could only feel the coldness crawl deeper into his body as everything around him slowly turned black. Finally giving in to the darkness, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I loved you, Nightbrook, he thought as the water invaded his lungs. I really did.

The Ultimate Anthropologist was surprised to find himself alive.

Korekiyo Shinguuji opened his eyes, finding himself in a cabin. This had him curious. How was he alive after his execution? And most importantly, why was he suddenly aware of the events after his death, and previous Danganronpa seasons?

He was still unable to know whether or not his memories were fabricated, but he had to assume so. It'd make a bit of sense. But his memories seemed too real. The anthropologist chose to not speak. There was no one in- no, there were three others. He noted that they were not from his killing game.

He needed to stay quiet. He needed to stay unknown. Korekiyo adjusted his mouth guard ever so slightly and exited the cabin. Then he took notice of the notebook on the porch.

Is this for me? he thought curiously. He leaned down and picked up the notebook, noticing that it was decorated with what appeared to be roses. Unless one of the others within his cabin was represented by roses, the notebook was his.

Korekiyo decided to flip through the pages. He recognized his own notes from his season of the Killing Games. Yes, this belonged to him. He closed the notebook with a snap and began his walk. Perhaps he could figure out what he was supposed to do.

"Well, looks like someone is unable to find pieces of paper."

The Ultimate Anthropologist whirled around, face to face with a blonde-haired male. He sported glasses and a black top hat, as well as a yellow tailcoat. He appeared fancy, but also casual. "You're Korekiyo Shinguuji right? From season fifty-three?"

"Yes, that is me," he responded. "I presume you happen to be Ryuu Yamasaki from season forty-five."

"Ding ding ding! We have a winner!"

Ryuu Yamasaki | Ultimate Fashion Designer

Korekiyo watched Ryuu hold out one of his hands. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Shinguuji-kun." Korekiyo took the hand and shook it, keeping a cool composure. He was extremely happy inside though. Ryuu had been his favorite character from that particular season, and now he got to meet him? "Anyway... paper, paper where did I put it..."

Ryuu rummaged through his pockets, which left Korekiyo somewhat confused. "If you cannot find it, perhaps—"

"Found it!" Ryuu pulled out a folded up sheet of paper and unfolded it. "There was one for you in the cabin, but you didn't get it. So, here. Let me read it.

"Follow the map provided with this note to the camp bonfire. You will be notified of how you got here and all information needed."

Korekiyo had an idea of who had sent the note, though he didn't dare speak the name. If it really was who he was thinking, he knew there would be trouble. The Ultimate Anthropologist bit his tongue as he tried to figure out who besides... him would have sent the note. "Shall we go then?" Korekiyo asked politely, twirling a strand of hair on his finger.

"Yep! Let's go!" Ryuu pulled out the map and pointed into the air. "I know the way!" With that, the Ultimate Fashion Designer ran out.

"I'll all turn out wonderful, I know it will." Miri would say, with that piece of hope shining in her eyes. It was a promise, told over and over without losing meaning, a vital part of her life. It was her song she sung, and kept singing until her lungs lay on the floor, torn from her broken body by anger and hatred.
"We'll be together until the world ends." Illia would say, glancing at him by her side, a knowing look in her eyes as she said it. To her, it was not only a promise, but a comfort. He was the friend she could keep, the one who wouldn't run away, because he had nowhere to go. The words rang through her body, bringing confidence to her stride, bringing her tranquility wherever she went. But peace couldn't save a shattered soul, and her only companion was too little too late.
"You're the best, you know?" Elass would say, smiling through the lies and the hardships. She was clueless, but happy, and endlessly loyal. She made him trusting again, and he brought back the joy she had lost. They were close, bonded, and it lasted for once. He allowed his heart to feel once more, and poured his soul into the tough little warrior he grew to enjoy. However, tough didn't mean invincible, and her blood soon stained his hands, like so many others before. She broke his heart for good, so he thought.
As years passed, he distanced himself. Emotions were forgotten within weeks. Memories became colorless, the pain expressed in black and white instead of shades of gray. It hurt all the more when he couldn't deny the hard facts, as he could feelings. Life turned bleak, full of uninteresting individuals he didn't care about. Nothing stuck out anymore, nothing was worth the effort. His reasons for living were weak, and crumbled into dust without a purpose.
"You're not bad, you're good."
The words were new, they sparked something. The kid was young, but full of sardonic humor and cold intelligence. And, underneath, he wasn't vulnerable, as most were. He was... strong. He didn't hide away the things that scared him, he didn't flinch at the mention of an unsolved past. He lived in the moment, letting things hurt him, and then letting them go. His name was Tenebris.
As Tenebris grew to like him, he found his emotions stirring. Over time, he became protective, but he was also hesitant. He didn't want to have his heart broken again, he didn't want to feel responsible for the kid's mangled body. It wasn't a matter of if, it was a matter of when. So, he locked away his heart inside himself, never allowing Tenebris to lay a finger on it.
However, when he found a monster dead at Tenebris's feet, he realized something. Maybe he couldn't give away his heart, but he could keep the kid safe. He could teach Tenebris to defend himself against the horrors of the world. Everyday, he waited for the moment when he'd find Tenebris's bloody remains in some alleyway, but the moment never came. The kid only grew stronger, faster, better. And, he found himself slowly unlocking the cage he kept his heart in.
Finally, on a rainy night, in a field full of frost-bitten wildflowers, Tenebris hugged him, and snapped the lock completely.
"I think I love you, Death."
"I think I love you too, Ten."