Forum Thread

Shi no shiryō

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"I'm gonna assume it's a compliment, I'm just amazed I invoked such a reaction with two words."

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This roleplay is becoming so dead it's about to transcend into the same dimension Mei and the other dead mfs currently reside.

Does that mean we can bring them back pretty please 🥺

Oh well it was worth the shot. Anyways, back to your regularly scheduled program of Mei somehow having an endless supply of ghost popcorn, obviously unpopped so she would have to suffer through finding a ghost microwave to feed this insanity, and watching this hell of a show that she has long gotten bored of due to its MONTHS LONG RUNTIME

Oh, and spoilers, Akari gets ✨edgy✨

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Ah s**t... The intoxication was wearing off, and at the worst time possible too. Alone. In his room. Nothing but the horrors of his own mind to keep him company.

It was utterly, painfully quiet. He could hear his own breathing, his own heartbeat, the blood rushing in his head. His splitting, groggy head. Akari had already given up on keeping himself upright on his bed, his body was already giving out anyways. The past few days made it impossible to get sleep, a rarity even on his better days. He was so tired, so, so tired. Not to mention the immense guilt and anger that was surfacing, only being suppressed by the now fading bottles and bottles of booze. He had relapsed, something that was obscene for a 17 year old to be saying, but it happened. How edgy, ammiright? I love terribly written characters existing solely to see how traumatized I can make them.

Only hanging on by a thread before, his overexerted body just kept going forward no matter how exhausted, but Akari was pushing it. He was only human after all, something he had trouble reminding himself of. Only human, not a machine.

Not a machine...

Sure as hell wasn't human, though. Did he even have any humanity left? Akari was just a soulless husk of a man, drifting in the waters of this cruel life, anchored only to the world by a string as thin as his sanity. No human would do the things he's done, no human would make the errors he had made.

Maybe he'd gone so far off the deep end that he had convinced himself that a machine would be a better option. A machine isn't human either, a machine doesn't make mistakes, a machine is useful. Crazy and absurd, yes, but that's Akari for you. Poor guy, he needs a hug.

His eyes were losing their strength rapidly, his exhaustion became overwhelming, and despite the struggle to keep himself awake, it was pointless.

Cue the ✨nightmare montage✨

The first thing on his rattled mind was the horrific encounter with Wifekuma, the ridiculous make-up and outfits he had somehow walked into, as stupid as it was. It had just happened after all, although he was hoping his drunken mind would've forgotten most of that by now.

Sadly, it wasn't the first time something like that had happened. Far from it, actually, and that was all thanks to the woman who raised him. The woman who made his life an utter hell and still haunted him from the grave. She was always insufferable, both sober and high on what seemed like gallons of alcohol. She was an entirely different person either way, one day she went the mental route and the other the physical.

It happened all the time when he was younger, when his features really stood out. Tiny little kid, hardly any meat on his bones, one could even call little 5 year old Akari adorable if he didn't look so miserable. His mother had always complained about how much she wanted a sweet little girl when she was drunk, on the times she wasn't being an utter monster of course. She had always done horrible things, no matter the occasion, but these times were the few that really stuck out to Akari, drilled into his head and tormented him for ages. Apparently his older brother never got the same treatment, most likely due to being the first son and not being as "appealing" to their mother's desires, but who knows.

It was horrible, obviously, but her unpredictable nature only made it worse. Most of the time, she was so insistent on her children being the best of the best, following the life she forced them into, heavily shoved the "manly" mentality onto them both without a care in the world as to what they thought. Others, she was so out of it that she did a complete 180, taking out her frustrations on poor Akari. Forced him to keep his hair long, even when other times she nearly ripped it all off herself, fed him as little as she could to "keep him petite", the whole nine yards. So contradictory, so exhausting to keep up with. One day he was prettied up and tormented with the insufferable fantasy she had forced upon him, the next she was lashing out at him for her own ridiculousness.

Of course his nightmare starred zombified corpse of his mother, featuring yassified tiny child Akari. Not really yassified, though, Darkrai didn't have the budget to afford a style department.

Only silence, only darkness, only him and two figures just beyond. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, it was almost like he didn't even exist in his own dream. Actually, he was starting to wish it was only silence. He could hear the faint sobs of the smaller figure, the small whimpers and begs that the horrific creature in front of it would just go away. He had seen that silhouette far too many times to be oblivious to what it was, rotting skin with wiry hair, claw-like fingernails with broken bones and spilled out organs. The child tried to step back to escape the demonic monstrosity, but it seemed as though even the darkness was on its side. It held onto their feet like sludge, and with every twitch of their muscle, a deafening screech was let out all around them. It was like watching a horror movie, but this one was all too real. The child's wailing only grew more and more desperate, more and more tragic as the figure approached. Akari tried so hard to step forward, to do something, but the effort was futile. Couldn't even look away either, just like most of his dreams.

One step, two step, on and on, the screams and pleads for mercy only growing harsher and harsher as the monstrosity approached, until finally...

...The last thing he saw was the corpse-like figure jump onto the boy, one final screech before he jolted awake in cold sweat with his head pounding. Small tears had welled up in his eyes, a rarity nowadays given how common dreams like these were. You'd think Akari would be used to it by now, but unfortunately, the cracks were getting a little too big to patch up with his poor excuse of a duct tape knock-off. Soon he would break and shatter, or so he thought.

(i don't know what the hell i'm doing at this point, screw akari he sucks)

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Miyako Hiroto

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"Oh, you'd be amazed at the reactions some things can get out of me." She watched Shi with lidded eyes. "How about we try three?" She whispered in her ear, letting her lips brush over the lobe.

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Title: Shi

Shi stared blankly, trying to process the situation.

FUCK FUCK FUCK WHAT DO I DO OH GOD FUCK UHHH

"I-" Fuck "I, uh-"

Dorky's POV

An irritating-looking teenager appeared, sitting atop of one of those little spinny chairs and spinning it too much. He was chugging cream soda from a wine glass, and adjusting his glasses while looking at totally existent papers. He spoke into a loud and screechy intercom that none of the players' characters heard.

"Good news, everybody! The roleplay is back in action. Everyone's favorite rock is busy at the moment, so I am taking over for Chapter 3 as the host until she can be more active again. The roleplay will hopefully not die now. Hopefully. Anyway, let's get into the post."

Kubo Atsushi's POV

Kubo was unsure what to make of all the nonsense that came out from Lucian's lips. It was all coming together in meaningless white noise. Crowding together, overwhelmingly... like the whispers that seemed to follow you around and around and...

Not knowing how else to respond, he merely shrugged and patted Lucian awkwardly on the shoulder.

"Well." He huffed grimly. "I guess you did return the favor... look, you have your own things that you're dealing with too, and there's no need to downplay that just because... you're the Ultimate Therapist, or whatever." God. What was he even supposed to say?

He barely heard half of what Lucian was prattling on about. And yet... there was something... about the offness of the words... that seemed almost familiar to him...

A distant memory, that he couldn't quite reach.

But he was right, wasn't he? Death followed them all everywhere. It was always lurking right behind you, in the corridors. And it almost gave you a breath of relief when you thought about it.

"Look, Lucian, I'm..." Great. He was never all that great at this 'emotional vulnerability' stuff. "I'm sorry all that happened to you, but... I really don't know what to say. But what I do know is this... regardless of whether you 'should have died instead', you're here now, and that's in the past. That's..."

He could almost see her again, out of the corner of his eye. That memory... that you could never quite forget. Death really did follow you, at every turn... and you could never quite avoid it... and he couldn't help but wonder, if...

No. He couldn't think about that. "Look, I think you should take a break. Maybe rest for a while, okay? Your, uh... feelings matter too."

God, that was stupid. I really should just go back to sleep.

(What kind of idiot was roleplaying him anyway?)

Lucian Arbred's POV

No need to downplay it? His feelings mattered too? What kind of alien language was Kubo speaking?...

Lucian found himself smiling despite himself though, trying to clear the tears from his eyes. There was something else, on Kubo's face, he thought he knew. It was such a familiar look, that he couldn't quite place. But it gave him an uneasy feeling.

"...M-Maybe you're right. It's what... everyone's been telling me lately, haven't they?" he murmured. "to think of myself... I don't even know how to do that..."

Kubo clearly wasn't used to this kind of thing, Lucian could tell that much, from the way he stumbled over his words. Or maybe he was still out of it.

"thank you... for listening. Sorry." He bit his lip as he said the last word, but he still couldn't help but say it. He refrained from any further show of affection towards the Ultimate Detective, as he just felt so shifty and awkward at this point, and it would really be better if he just did as he said.

What had he been thinking? He should have been listening to everyone else. To try to take care of himself. Maybe rest for a while.

"take care of yourself, too, okay?" he asked the blue-haired teenager, before leaving.

Lucian thought he heard Kubo snark something along the lines of "not needing a nurse to take care of him all the time" which made the Ultimate Therapist suppress a laugh, rolling his eyes slightly as he left the room.

Miyako Hiroto's POV

"Pssh, that's not the three I meant, Shi!" She brushed aside a lock of hair from her girlfriend's ear, a big smile upon her face. "But it was a good try." Miyako smiled and kissed Shi on the cheek. "You- mean a lot to me, you know?"

Like him, or something else? a voice seemed to whisper to her from the trees. Almost fighting to break out. To flip it open, pages spilling everywhere, tire swinging, swaying, back and forth, back and--

She tried to swallow the shivering feeling away. There was no need to think of that. She was with Shi, and everything was alright. There was no need to think about anything that might have happened... That could happen...

Miyako drifted from her thoughts, hearing the atrocious bear prattle on and on about the prom. She narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose in disgust a moment.

"That bear... Hopefully... There won't be any more deaths happening, right, Shi? Let's go to the prom together! Would you be my date there?"

Would you care to play with me?

Miyako tried to hide the way she slightly quivered, the way that she felt a little frightened. The way she hoped that Shi would protect her. That no one... No one in this atrocious building... Would kill her.

And you're any better?

Saeko, Idris, Sawyer, clearly Kubo also possessed his share of nastiness, and the rest might be no saner.

But not Shi. Not Shi. Shi is good, trustworthy... Right?

Her girlfriend. The one who she... Loved.

Yes. Everything would be just fine.

Dorky's POV

"Okay. I'm tired of adding to the endless pool of filler." Dorky typed in the chat /summon Monokuma.

Darcy Harper's POV

"UPUPUPU! Helloooo, students!" a certain obnoxious voice exclaimed over the loudspeaker. "Okay, so, the current host has expressed his annoyance at the inefficiency of the roleplay. We have WAY too much filler going on! Sure, plenty of angst, but we need some new drama, some new murderrrrs, some new tears! What was that? Oh, ignore what I just said! What I meant to say was, PROM IS TOMORROW NIGHT! We'll have plenty of outfits for you to choose from inside of a locker room, just combine whatever suits you or whatever. That'll be sure to cheer up you sad saps and have you stop whining about the bodies in the freezer! Anyway, have fun, make some pairings canon or whatever! There TOTALLY won't be any new deaths any time soon! Uhuhu! Bear well!"

Darcy rubbed his eyes in frustration. It was getting late at this point, and Miyako had ditched him alone with Sawyer to reminisce about things and... try to help them remember the entirety of their life. He was exhausted, admittedly, and, if no murders took place, maybe a prom could be a good thing. Of course, Sawyer immediately thought so.

"OOH, a prom? That's like... a dance event... or something-something, right?" They blinked in curiosity. "I bet that'll be fun!"

"Ah... yeah. Maybe," Darcy muttered. But an idea was beginning to occur to him now. He was remembering something now... the perfect way he could maybe trigger Sawyer's memory...

Besides, when he thought about it... what was the point of despairing in this place? Darcy didn't hope much that they all could escape or something, but... maybe no one would die this time. After all, who wouldn't want to avoid the previous tragedies?

But he shook away the thought conjuring in his mind promptly, his face reddening. No, he couldn't even THINK about that!

"UH, come on. Let's just get you to sleep. Your wounds won't be able to heal well without that," Darcy sputtered.

"Ohhh, Pokemon Center recovery kind of jazz? Good thinking!!"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, dragging Sawyer off to a dorm room.

Jeez...

They were always hopeless, but now they were worse than ever.

They'll recover, right?

They just needed time.

Right?

Sawyer Laurens's POV

As Sawyer was dragged off by the hand by Darcy, there was this convoluted confusion within their mind. There was something familiar at the mention of a prom... but... they couldn't quite remember what it was.

A video game? Ooh, perhaps a dream? ...something... that happened?

It was hard to tell the difference anymore. It was... certainly a curious thought.

"Jeez. Just... please, get to sleep and don't get yourself killed? You remember what sleeping is, right?" The coral pink-haired teenager sighed.

Sawyer stared at him blankly. "Sleeping?" Their brain was so foggy... barely anything was making sense...

A very irritated expression, mixed with concern, crossed Darcy's face. "Just... oh, for God's sake..."

He pulled the elastics out of Sawyer's hair, and the beanie off of their head. "Take these off, and... lie down, and close your eyes. And you should fall asleep soon enough?" They seemed relatively flustered and puzzled, probably unsure exactly how to explain it.

"Umm... okay! I guess that makes sense," Sawyer mused. Darcy facepalmed. "Okay. Good night. I'll... see you in the morning, Sawyer."

Sawyer stared in silence, a moment, and felt at their hair. "See you in the morning!" they chirped. But there was this blank, dull, empty confusion in their voice. Like something was missing...

Setsuna Jun's POV

Oh. The bear was saying there was some prom event or something. Probably some scam invented by the government...

Couldn't have anything to do with ***, of course. Wait, who was ***? Why did he even think that? The boy blinked, squinted, adjusted his glasses, only to realize that he wasn't seeing his thoughts and they were merely contained within the fabric of his mind.

"Huh!! Prom. I wonder what might happen there... I, um..." His face flushed slightly, and he took off his glasses, ruffling his hair and hiding his face with his hands. No, the very idea of it was stupid. Wasn't it?

"Wanna, ummm, hang out there together? We could scope out the place, and u-um, you know, see if anything suspicious is-- afoot! Yeah!" Setsuna beamed, putting his glasses back on, and attempting to maintain his composure. Right now, he just felt like eating his own shirt.

Had he even been thinking of... Asking Sutaraitsu to prom with him? Directly? The very idea was STUPID! Incredibly... Blasphemous? The boy struggled to find the right word. Which was strange, since, it was literally part of his talent. What the heck?

"You know, we could figure out if this was something the suspicious moon men planned! Y-Yeah! Woo! Aliens!!"

As he smiled and laughed awkwardly, a chill crept in on his neck, which Setsuna fought to ignore. But it persistently gnawed at him, like a flock of angry Keese.

*** was gone. And it was all his fault. It should have been him.

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Title: Shit

Shi regained her composure.

C'mon girl, you got this.

"Yeah, sure! You have any idea what you're gonna wear? It'd be soooooo roma- er- fun if we matched, right?"

Is she ready to label it like that?

Miyako Hiroto's POV

"Hm, I don't know! I was thinking something that looks right out of the Deadwardian Era." She grinned and shrugged. "Just think that might be cool. But yeahhh, it could be ro- fun if we matched!!"
She slapped her hand over her mouth, not realizing she had done literally the exact same thing Shi just had.

"Anything you had in mind?"

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Title: Shi

"Well, for no reason that breaks the fourth wall, I think a grey-and-purple colour palette would be nice."

Miyako Hiroto's POV

"That's a great idea! This'll be fun!!" Miyako exclaimed, hugging and squeezing her girlfriend's side and arm with a warm smile on her face, before slowly pulling herself away. "But in the meantime, I guess we should maybe sleep. Before the bear locks the dorms again." She let out a slight tsk after saying it.

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The audacity.

Seriously? Prom? Right after that whole diabolical too. Ghost Mei was now angry ghost Mei, a vengeful spirit that now stayed true to ghost lore, or... something. Her popcorn? Burnt. The tables? Turned.

Hotel?

Trivago.

Anyways, the whole prom idea was almost ridiculous enough to make her laugh instead of going on a witch hunt for that damn bear, but unfortunately, it was also ridiculous. A bad kind of ridiculous. Y'know, the kind of ridiculous you'd find on your typical 9 to 5, the final straw before you turn in your two-weeks? Yeah, well Mei had a 0 to 24 that paid far below minimum wage and this bear was the angry customer screaming about how their shampoo tasted like giraffe urine and they wanted a refund.

Better watch out Monokuma, Mei is gonna microwave your pillow.

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I'LL WRITE SOME DUMB STUFF IN LIKE 2,000 - 3,000 BUSINESS DAYS I GOTTA MAKE SURE AKARI IS THE MOST POORLY WRITTEN CHARACTER THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN

DON'T EVER LET ME COOK UNLESS YOU WANT A CONCOCTION WORSE THAN THE HORRORS FOUND IN A SCHOOL CAFETERIA THAT SOME ASSHOLES BET YOU 5 BUCKS TO DRINK

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Idris Kallikrates


Prom?

...after all this?

He was dumbfounded.

Surely not...surely no one was actually going to attend, right? He sure as hell wasn't. Prom? In the middle of a killing game? It would take a real psycho, a real piece of work to actually attend-

Oh who was he kidding, most people already planned to go, hadn't they?

Killing game or not, he had bad experiences with prom.

Idris shuddered. Those were bad memories he did not want to remember right now.

...going to prom would be such a bad idea. A murder would definitely occur, and he didn't want to get caught up in the middle of everything.

He sighed, quietly praying that no one would be dumb enough to attend such an obvious death trap.

Surely, just surely...

....there'd be someone with at least one brain cell in the academy.

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Saeko Katsumi.

saeko is very excited for prom

idk how to write them rn

Monokuma's POV

"ATTENTION! EVERYONE! FOR THE SAKE OF MOVING THE PLOT ALONG AT MORE THAN A DEVOURED GRANDMOTHER'S PACE, PLEASE GET TO YOUR DORMS. RIGHT NOW. OR YOU'LL BE LOCKED OUT! UPUPU!"

Setsuna Jun's POV

Setsuna crossed his arms and groaned. Of course the bear had to go and ruin all the fun. "Well... Um... See you tomorrow, I guess, Sutaraitsu!" he exclaimed. He hugged his friend(?) tightly before... Uh...

"Unless... You want to spend the night in here with me? I-If you want to!"

Kubo Atsushi's POV

Kubo rolled his eyes. The bear prattled off about how they all had to get to sleep, or else they might wind up locked out of their dorms and... Murdered, or something. Was another murder seriously going to happen after the Mei fiasco? Was anybody SERIOUSLY dumb enough for that?

What was the bear's plan, exactly? Was he going to indirectly present motives this time?

He huffed. It wasn't like he had much faith in anybody here not to kill someone. Except...

...

Lucian? Would he not kill anybody?

Assuming the kid was what he seemed, he probably wouldn't. But Kubo couldn't say for sure. What was it that was even with him?! Lucian rambling on about him and his abilities as if he was some savior or something, it seemed like the guy idolized him for some reason.

And that was something... Kubo couldn't understand. Why was he being so nice to him? Was he trying to get his guard down and stab him in the back?

He'd look at him with stars in his eyes like he was a freaking god or something. He'd hug him or smile at him or...

No, surely he was just like Kaoru. He could pretend to play the sweet, innocent angel all he wanted. He was twisted, corrupt. Everybody was. Nobody was really the "nice guy".

...so why did Lucian seem so... Genuine? And yet he still got the sense that he was hiding something... Something big...

And yeah, he guessed he SEEMED pretty, and gentle, and kind, sorta... But that was stupid, that was fake. That was all fake. They could never be... Friends, could they?

...maybe they could be. Maybe... He needed to stop treating him with such skepticism. Maybe Lucian was... Actually giving him a chance to be a person again...

Kubo grimaced and dug his fingernails into his hands, shoving his face into his pillow. It was all he could do to keep from crying.

Crying. That was pathetic. Why would he be crying?

Oh, Kaoru, and her little crocodile tears. She'd give you that look and you'd immediately not be angry at her anymore. How foolish he had been. It was a good thing she was...

Oh god, what was she doing here? No, she wasn't here, it was... No... There was no one there...

Kubo gripped tightly at his pillow, inhaling deeply. No more thinking. He just had to try to fricking sleep for now.

Death followed him even now.

Lucian Arbred:'s POV

Lucian went back to his dorm at the bear's request. Prom... What an interesting thought that was...

He'd never been to such a place, because his brothers always threw all their homework at him, and no matter how quickly he finished it all, he'd never have enough time left to go. It was probably better he didn't go anyway.

This place was so strange. There was so much free time here. And besides the constantly lurking threat of death, well... There were no inherent dangers. Hopefully... Things would be better from here on out...

Lucian ruffled through his notes inside his bed with a sigh. It was so quiet. And it felt a little lonely without Kubo here, but god, asking to share a room again would be just too awkward and...

...

No, Mei had been right. He'd grown too dependent on the Ultimate Detective. What the hell had been happening to him lately?

Lucian had always been too accommodating to others, too helpful. Too kind and selfless for his own good. It had almost gotten him killed on numerous occasions. And he'd never really gotten to enjoy himself.

But, Kubo... That was stupid. He was opening up to him too much, and if he knew... If he found out... There'd never be any chance that they could be friends, let alone that Kubo could ever love him. It was a stupid thought really, because why would anyone see anything in him?

And he... Wanted it, yet he didn't want it at the same time. It implied significance, mattering to someone. He wanted to help people, to make their lives better, but he didn't want to be a part of it. A therapist and client relationship, so to speak, you see them, you help them, and then they never get to fully, truly know you.

Because the idea of someone truly knowing him terrified Lucian to his core. If anyone knew... This thing about him... He could probably never help anyone again.

Mei... Lucian felt a little tearful remembering her. He had to keep his promise, he had to help everyone get out of here. But how?

God... It may have sounded ironic, given how unbearable she was, but he missed her.

And then there was... This issue of prom. Nope. Nope. Nope. He wouldn't be asking anyone to go with him. Definitely not. Definitely...

He looked at the partially-written note. Gazed, then stared at it. There was no way he could... Tell Kubo how he felt, was there?

NO! Nononono. He would be rejected, for sure, and that was the way it was supposed to be! He had to just stop thinking about it!!

Lucian faceplanted into his pillow, but made no sound of his frustration.

It was alright. Maybe he'd help everyone with picking their outfits, setting the event up... And he could make sure no one died, too!

But... Asking Kubo out... Was unthinkable. Wasn't it?...

Maybe... Maybe not.

Miyako Hiroto's POV

She groaned. "It's the bear, again. I guess we REALLY better be going now. You coming, Shi?"

Prom... With Shi. The thought warmed her heart a little. Maybe this would be a good thing. Maybe she could forget...

Maybe there was nothing to worry about...

Sawyer Laurens's POV

(Asleep. Probably.)

Darcy Harper's POV

(Might write some edgy dreams dunno we'll see)

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Title: Shi

"Yeah we should get going."

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Miyako Hiroto

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Yeah. This wouldn't be too bad.

She could do this. She could survive some stupid little event. Whatever that bear cooked up, she'd crush, so long as Shi was by her side.

With a shy smile she placed her hand in Shi's. "Let's go," she whispered.

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Idris Kallikrates

he woke up with a yell and a knife in his hand

dammit

these nightmares were getting out of control. he chucked his knife on the bed and groaned. it was so embarrassing, these nightmares. he wasn't 12 again, for goodness sake, these nightmares should've stopperd a long time ago. he thought he was getting somewhere, with his new therapist and all that, but then he happened to go and mysteriously 'disappear' and all his progress was ruined. he missed his therapist, she was the closest thing he had to a mother, embarrassingly. he oddly felt at times like she actually cared about him, and was the only person who would listen to him. she even believed him about his mother. she was the only one. maybe if she hadn't gone...

he groaned again. stupid 12 year old idris. he used to pray every night, that she'd...decide to adopt him.

it was a stupid hope, he knew deep down. she was the only person who'd ever been nice to him, apart from his father.

he felt embarrassed just thinking about it. she was his therapist, for goodness sake. she probably pretended to care, just for the money. right?

'cause no one ever did care.

he sounded so stupid right now, with his 'no one cares about me', emo-type crap. sometimes he wished the ground would swallow him up so he could escape this cycle of self-loathing.

he closed his eyes, and wished he was back there, in that bright office of hers. it was always tidy, always full of vibrant plants, adorned with colourful bookshelves with books on the topic of therapy.

he just wanted someone to say 'it's going to be fine' just one last time to him.

just one last goddamn time.

was it so hard to ask?

he slumped on the ground. he felt...broken. lost, even. everyone he cared for was dead. all dead. all gone.

it wasn't fair. he felt like a little kid thinking this, so pitiful, but it wasn't fair.

why? why him?

why did this always happen to him? why did everyone he love have to be dead?

why??

WHY?

why every single goddamn time he gets close to someone, why do they have to die??? WHY??? ITSNOTFAIRITSNOTFAIRITSNOTFAIRITSNOTFAIR



it's not fair

it'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfair it'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfair it'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfair it'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfair it'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfairit'snotfair-

the knife looked so shiny. so...cold. so cruel. so beautiful. he ran a finger across its tip. it was sharp. cold and sharp. like an icicle.

he liked icicles. they were cool. he hated winter though.

winter was cold. idris didn't like the cold. winter was bad. winter was dark.

idris didn't like the dark.

you couldn't see. you were blind.

idris didn't like the dark.

his childhood fear growing up was the dark.

probably because of all the times he locked himself in the cupboard.

Idris was good at hiding

he hid all the time

his feelings

emotions

everything

from himself

from his friends

from everyone

someday they'd come back to haunt him

to get him

to bite him

maybe that someday was now

he clutched his head. everything had taken a toll on him. the deaths, the murders. mei... it was too much. it all came crashing down. the lack of hope. the despair. how could anyone be happy at a time like this? how?????

how. how. how. how. how

surely everyone else must be some sort of psycho

unless he was the psycho

oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god

his breathing became erratic.

oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god

he covered his ears and eyes and brought his knees to his chest.

it was too much death.

he couldn't be 'mr tough guy' anymore

he wanted to die.



wc: 624

Darcy Harper's POV

Oh, god, it was that dream again.

Darcy knew how this went. He knew how it always went. He inhaled and exhaled sharply, fighting desperately to steady his breathing. Why? Why couldn't he dream about something else, anything else?

He saw his younger self smiling at Will, and giving him a box of chocolates, looking so eager and hopeful... and then Will walked off and threw the box in the trash without even opening it. Darcy spotted the box, that he had so very carefully wrapped, that he had so carefully decorated, that he had put so much effort into...

Just. Discarded. Just thrown away.

The scene would repeat over and over and over again. He tried to do better, to make them better, even asked Will if he'd try one, just one. Maybe then he would like it.

Into the trash. Into the trash. Discarded. Thrown away.

His homemade wrapping paper, cardboard, velvet, those bows, those sparkles, all those precious materials, all that chocolate he had spent hours baking, measuring everything so carefully... To make sure it was just right...

And Will didn't even care. He didn't even care.

Darcy would break down crying every single time, as soon as Will was out of sight. Was it... Really too much to ask?

Was he... That worthless?

Boxes of chocolate were nothing if no one bought and enjoyed them. Ultimate Chocolatiers were nothing, if no one loved and appreciated them.

Then it was Erica's piano recital. Again. Why was she SO good at it?

The keys were so beautiful, so flawless. They just flowed together, just singing out melodically to everyone's ears. Everyone would always be clapping, clapping, clapping. Brought to tears in their excitable applause.

She would learn and play song after song after song after song...

Erica never had time for Darcy. It seemed she was always doing something else. Always preparing for those damned recitals, always studying for her exams, and if she wasn't doing homework, it was extra-credit assignments.

And no matter how Darcy tried, he could never keep up. That girl... Was she even human? Always so kind and generous to everyone. She went to church, she donated to various charities, she did volunteer work, she played the piano flawlessly. And that voice, her voice was soft, sweet, and so, so beautiful.

Erica... Was perfection. She was beauty, generosity, kindness, loyalty, everything. And she was so, so loved. She was like a goddess.

Everything she did was enough. More than enough. Everyone loved her. Mom, her friends, all their relatives, everyone at school...

She would win all the awards, and do everything right. How was it even possible?

No matter how hard Darcy tried, he was never enough.

Every time he achieved something, he tried to show his mother. But she didn't even seem to care. Every time Erica did something, or said something, it was gospel. It was admirable. It was extraordinary.

But every time Darcy did something, she'd just turn away. She'd just stare off into space with those empty, empty eyes, knitting or doing her makeup or washing dishes or just sitting in that chair, and sometimes, when no one was looking, she'd pull out a flask and resume... Her drinking.

Darcy's father may have left him, but oftentimes, it felt like his mother had left as well. She was never really there. At least... Not for him. Only for Erica.

Erica, who everyone loved. Erica, who to everyone, was perfect in every way.

And Will loved her too.

Darcy remembered that day so well... When they sat together on that bench, holding hands in the park. Will was holding that note... That Darcy never got to read... But given the now-empty envelope on the bench, covered in hearts, and the looks on their faces... He knew. He just knew.

Darcy relived every moment every time. No matter how well they did their hair, their makeup, how well they chose and ironed and steamed their clothes... No one cared.

No matter how hard he studied, until he passed out, no one cared.

No matter how well he cooked and baked and cleaned and decorated, attending to every little detail, no one cared.

No matter how hard he tried, with everything he made, with everything he did, someone was always better. Nothing he did was ever enough.

And then there.... There was Sawyer. Who the hell even was Sawyer anyway?

Sawyer, who was always so nice to him. Sawyer, who always cared. Sawyer, the one person he was ever enough for, and he pushed them away. Because he was jealous.

Because he was jealous of Sawyer, for having a mother and a father who cared for and loved them. For having parents who were always there to support them, who they were always enough for. Sawyer... Who had so much freedom... And was so happy.

But Sawyer, despite being the only one who cared, despite being the only one he was ever enough for...

When Darcy was gone... they would forget him too. And he knew this. And it was enough to shatter him to his very core.

Darcy climbed up onto the railing, the cheerful waves going in and out, beckoning to him from beneath. He took a deep breath.

It was a long way down, but all the same, he wanted to jump.

---

---

---

Kubo Atsushi

---

Kubo wanted to sleep. He gritted his teeth together, and made a valiant effort to ignore the weariness that dragged his limbs down. The urge to collapse onto the bed and snuggle into the warm sheets.

He sighed, resigning himself to a day of suffering, and stood up and stretched. The room was cold and still- the doorknob frozen against his palm.

The Ultimate Detective shuddered and tried to think of something else.

For some reason, Idris, Mei's boytoy came to mind. He furrowed his brow and tried to banish the agonized, twisted face from his mind.

Idris was a liar. Kubo didn't like liars.

A pang of loss echoed through him. Is it really liars you despise? Kaoru murmured in his ear. Or those who dispute the lies you feed yourself?

The door hit the wall with a bang. Kubo jumped; closed eyes shooting open. The hallway was empty. All that was there was him, his hand, and...

He breathed out.

Nothing is happening. Everything is okay.

Mei's hand touched Idris' shoulder. She smiled at him, her eyes reflecting something lost and sad. A look she would never send Kubo's way.

That didn't matter. He'd never wanted her love, or whatever else she pretended to serve Idris on her pyrate platter. "And yet..." Idris' agonized expression. The twisted pain in his eyes, and the way he lashed out. Pretending he was okay.

Kubo shuddered.

If he was lying... why had Idris been so determined to say he was okay? So determined to say that Mei meant nothing to him when they all knew he was only pretending to care about her and-

He loved her, Kaoru whispered. As I loved him.

Her spirit wrapped around his bare hand and he gave it a firm shake.

This was... this was nothing. He had to get out, before the hallucinations got worse. Before he started considering stupid things like these people actually caring about each other... that maybe, just maybe, he had made a mistake.

---

---

Setsuna Jun

---

"Ahhh!"

With a yawn and a stretch, Setsuna wrapped his arms tighter around Sutaraitsu. The two were snuggled together on the bed- a fact that made his cheeks warm and a genuine smile come over his face.

"Hey," he whispered. "How are you?" He snuggled into the other boy's neck, breathing in the scent of flowers and lemony soap. Mm... he smelt good enough to eat.

---

Darcy Harper's POV

And just like that, he woke up. Trapped in the nightmare that was now reality. Which was worse... to wake, or to be asleep? His dreams haunted him. The crushing reality of this place haunted him.

It was all so stupid. Darcy wished it wasn't real, he wished, he wished, he wished...

He wished he could all pretend it was some stupid dream. That he'd wake up. But whether he was awake or asleep now, he was constantly tormented. Even breathing was a heavy burden now, and he was shaking, shaking, shaking relentlessly...

What kind of life would he even have to go back to, if he ever got out of this place? How many more people... had to die? Maybe Lucian had the right idea. Maybe if Darcy just killed himself, it'd finally all be over.

He didn't want to go back to his mother. She probably wouldn't even be relieved he was alive, she probably wouldn't even care... and yet he desperately wanted her to care, needed her to care, it was almost like she knew, that she knew that--

It was a curse, really. The eyes that forced you to see the horrors. The ears that forced you to hear them. The mouth that you would try to speak with, and no matter how loud, no one seemed to hear you. No one seemed to... notice you. And that was a curse beyond all others imaginable.

The hands that forced you to touch his body, and you'd shake him, and shake him, in the hospital bed, and he wouldn't move.

Darcy kept living, with only the faint hope in his heart... that something would go right. That something would get better. It seemed like a faint hope, a futile hope.

Maybe they were all going to die here...

"Sawyer? You awake?" Darcy asked groggily, frantically trying to get himself ready.

There was going to be prom tonight, right?

...maybe it would go better than the last time. Maybe... no one else would die. Right?

Then again, sometimes... there were far worse things than death.

Sawyer Laurens's POV

Sawyer slowly opened their eyes. They turned their glasses around, over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over...

and over and over and over and over and over and over

and over and over and over

and over and over

in their hands.

These were... for something, right? Huh. Everything seemed blurry.

Some sort of equipment, maybe

?

They couldn't quite recall...

Someone was speaking.

Words, they thought.

...words.

To remember--

What was it to remember?

A never-ending dream

A never-waking sleep

"Sawyer? You awake?"

My name...

That was their name ... ?

Sawyer...

Everything was all scattered. Fuzzy.

...fuzzy.

Kittens. Static. Puppies. Dreams.

screaming --

(!*&!(*$)!*#(&!(*$&*(!)$!(&


!(*$&*!(*#)$!_!#&$*!()$&@(*!#)!$&!*(&#(*!&$(!*&$(!*&$(*!*@)($&(*!!$(!)&@)(!$&*(!#**&#()#!#&!*($&!)@(&$!&)(#!&@)($&!)(@*!!@)(!*)!($&)(@*!($&@!)(*!$()&@!@()*!)(!&#)(*!()&#()*!#)(!&@)(#!*_)!(#^@(*&$)(!(#_!&)(!*#)(!

"I don't..."

!O$&!!*)(!*)(!$&@)@(!$&*!)(@**$!@*(*!@@*($&!!)@(*#!@&(*#&!()&(*!$*!)@($&*(!@&(#*&!@(&(*!&#(*!*!*(#&*(!&#\\

"You..."

"I don't remember... I can't..."

"Forget... they..."

Sunset, pasta, heartbeat, loud noise, scary, unfamiliar. Unknown. Strange.


Voices. People.


Coats.

"No, I-"

"S-Sawyer? You okay? Hey. These... are glasses. You use them to see. Remember?"

"...to see?"

They fiddled with the pair in-between their fingers.

Slowly. Half. Sliding.

No, that was off.

Something's off.

Something's...

Glass.

Like the...

They shook the thought away.

...the thought?

"There you go. It's... like that, okay? Jeez, Sawyer, I..."

Upset. Worry.

Is that why you...?

None of it made sense.

"Do you even remember... anything?"

"...a Killing Game. We're... in a Killing Game. Right? Or so... you said... I think... like... The Hunger Games... or... something..."

"I- yes. Like that, Sawyer, but... it's... real. We're in it, right now."

"What do you mean? I- I don't think I understand."

"...do you understand... anything anymore?"

We're trying to help you.

Why don't you get it ... ?

It doesn't make any sense.

Hopelessly insane.

Not even human.

This

Should help.

Should we really

be...?

Do we have a choice? Does... anyone have a choice?

"It's... like this, okay? Now you try it."

"Thanks!! So, what are we doing today? Scrounging for food? This doesn't look like your typical arena..."

"We're... trapped in a school, Sawyer. Can't you see that? Look at this. Walls, floors, windows, dorm rooms!! Please... try to remember?"

"Oh. How did... we get here?"

"Well, I- we thought it was a school for Ultimates. But someone... is forcing us to all kill each other. And I'm... I'm afraid... four people are already dead."

"Four?..." A strange look came upon their face. "Four..."

Four fingers, up. That didn't line up. There wasn't four...

"And the- stupid- bear-robot thing, or... wh-whatever it is, is making us go to prom tonight. Do you... remember what prom is, Sawyer?"

A faint memory trickled at the edge of their mind.

A drop in the expanse of the ocean. Lost in the endless muffling of waves.

They tugged at their hair, the confusion...

w ri thi ng...

"I think... it was--- an event. Of some sort..."

Why did he look so familiar?...

Darcy. That was who he'd introduced himself as.

He looked so... familiar...

Those eyes...

They were like...

"S-Sawyer?! What are you staring at?"

"Umm... you reminded me of something."

What, they could not be sure...

"Anyway... people... need to... go to prom with somebody. A- a friend, or... maybe..."

"Are you... going with anyone, Darcy?"

Darcy Harper's POV

"Are you... going with anyone, Darcy?"

The question caught him off-guard. He wasn't expecting Sawyer... to say that. Maybe to ask, maybe, any other question, spout some sort of bizarre theory about Tetris having lore, or something!

Darcy's face flushed. What was... Sawyer implying by this, exactly? They hadn't even let him finish...

Ugh, no, no, NO! He couldn't think of it like that. They meant as friends. Obviously.

Just like... last time...

"W-Well... uh... not yet. I don't think anybody really... wants to go there with me."

And then they smiled, so very brightly. With all the light of the sun. "I would."

"Wh-What?" Darcy wasn't sure he'd heard them right. Sawyer wouldn't be asking them that. It must've been their fuzzy memory.

Sawyer tilted their head. "III'd go there with you. I wouldn't want you to be left alone! What's... prom like? Is it fun?"

Darcy winced. "...well... sometimes. It can be fun. For some people..."

Why her? Why always her?

"There tends to be a lot of people, social conversation, fancy outfits, assortments of food and sometimes fruit punch... and... dancing, is the big thing."

She looked so perfect. She always looked so perfect.

"It sounds pretty cool!" Sawyer chirped. "I think..."

They got that faraway look in their eyes again, that Darcy could never comprehend. Sometimes he wished he could read their mind, understand the way they thought.

So positive, never seeing difficulties or problems... so cheerful, always seeing the best in everything... and everyone...

"Will Miyako be there?" Sawyer asked.

Darcy stiffened and crossed his arms. "Uhhh... m-maybe. Probably." So they remembered her name...

And then a thought occurred to Darcy. Maybe going to prom with Sawyer, would help them remember...

Could it?

"Well, I- guess we better get ready. Come on."

Lucian Arbred's POV

Lucian awoke in a cold sweat, with a creeping pain in his neck that felt suffocating. He frantically loosened his scarf, panting rather nervously. So... this was it.

He was here, inside the dangerous Killing Game school again... that wasn't... well, really all that different from what he was used to. They'd all be going to prom tonight, huh?

He fumbled through his notes. Maybe he could help out with the refreshments at prom tonight, make sure everything was in order...

It felt so messed up to him. Horatia, Kaoru, Futatabi, Mei... they were all dead. And now everyone in the school was forced to attend... what was basically a party?

Well, that was Monokuma for you. Still... maybe he had to think positively about this. Maybe this was an opportunity for everyone to be friends.

And maybe...

He rubbed at his face with his hands, shaking his head indignantly. No, no, no. Kubo wouldn't want to go with him, that was ridiculous. It was unthinkable...

He had to focus on helping everyone, right?

No, Lucian knew he had to take care of himself first. He'd have to get ready, and then he'd help get everything ready, and...

Maybe he could ask Kubo... ambiguously? Maybe he wouldn't specify if they were going as friends or not, but... oh, god, no, what if he asked? Maybe he could gauge from his reaction, backtrack if he needed to...

God, no, this was a mess. Best to abstain from that altogether.

---

---

---

Kubo Atsushi

---

Kubo wandered down the halls, eyeing the decorations that seemed to spawn from the walls. Cases of trophies, awards given to different students down the decades.

He'd never been a sporty kid. Never really tried for academic excellence. These walls would never be his.

To that thought he came to a full stop. Would he die, then? Unpreserved, forgotten, just another blotch on this school's history?

No, he assured himself. He'd survive this school, and make it out. Everyone would know his name them. The Ultimate Detective, hero of a Killing Game. Beloved brother, beloved friend, beloved hero, beloved son-

Beloved son.

"No," he whispered, the truth finally revealing itself to him. "I won't get out of here. I won't let myself." He traced his fingers along the dusty rim of the trophy cabinet, and pulled it back to examine the bare digits. "...I'll stay here. All of us will. We'll carve out an existence from the dirt- as people are meant to do."

He started forward, ready to move on, but something caught his eye. A name, embedded into a trophy. He could barely make out the lettering- but his whole body screamed that it was important. He practically fell into the cabinet.

Kubo traced his fingers along the glass. No... that's not possible.

"Shi, you're so quiet today," a voice remarked from down the hall. "I'm honestly starting to get worried. Something you not telling me?"

The voice laughed loudly. Kubo jerked away from the case just as Miyako Hiroto and Shi no Shiryō rounded the corner.

Both parties stopped short and stared at one another. Kubo wondered if the cold glint in her eyes meant something, or it was just how she always looked.

"You," she snarled. Oh, I guess she wants to kill me. Good to know. "What gives you the right to show your face after what you said?"

He didn't think he'd said anything about her. She must've mistaken his confusion for something else, because rage sparked in her.eyes, and she started stalking towards him, swinging a clenched fist.

---

Idris Kallikrates

Tell him!

No, YOU tell him!

A girl walked up to him. She was pretty, tall and blonde, one of the prettiest girls in the school. She was suppressing a laugh.

"Hey! You-

uh, Idris, right?"

Bursts of laughter erupted behind her.

"You know prom is soon, right?"

"...prom?" He asked.

Even more giggles.

"Yeah...here we have two. You didn't know? Don't they have two....where you come from?"

"...no?" Idris didn't really remember anything about where he was born. His family were always on the move. Currently they were in England, apparently his father secured a decent job in the country. Where did he come from? His family never spoke of it.

"Oh. Uh- well...

Do you wanna go with me?"

The girls behind the blonde howled with laughter.

He flushed. "...really?"

oh my god he believes it-

pathetic

The girl smiled. It was so fake, yet he believed her.

"...sure, I guess...uh-"

"Do you not know how they work? Well, people get dressed in pretty dresses and tuxedoes....do you know what a tuxedo is? Anyways, they go there and dance, and drink, it's sooo much fun, don't you think?"

He grinned. Sounded like fun.


Ew!

Is he....smiling?

I can't look at him anymore, I feel sick-



. . . . .

10 minutes passed.

15.

20.

hey!
don't wanna be rude or anything, just wanted to know when you're gonna arrive?

40

hey, again-
do you want me to pick you up at your house instead?
not sure why you wanted to meet here?
the forest is kinda far away-

50.

hello??

1hr.

He stared at the phone screen.

2hr.

His phone screen flashed.

you really think i'd go with someone like YOU? you believed it, didn't you. god, you're pathetic.

Rain started to fall.

He stared at his wet tux. His mother looked so happy when he told her the good news. The tux cost a fortune....now food was going to be scarce.

He sighed.