the old king is dead

Yoshiko sat at the cave’s opening. Her eyes were empty as she stared inside. Maybe…this was the best place for her?

She quietly laughed as she imagined her new life as a hibernating bear. It would be so easy. 

At the sound of someone approaching from behind, she kept her gaze on the dark nothingness of the inside of the cave.

“If you’re here to tie me up, I won’t be having any of it.”

She finally looked back at her visitor. What on Earth would these kids possibly want from her now?

Nori idled a few feet back from Yoshiko, hands stuffed in her pockets and weight resting easily on one leg. At the threat, she tilted her head to the side. “On the one hand, I doubt ya could really do anything worse to me at this point. But on the otherhand, I wanted t’ thank you. Honestly. I haven’t felt this good in years.”

[♬♬♬]

The forest stretches interminably into the distance, going so deep and dark that not even the rays of light make it into the inky green-brown depths. The boundaries of the campsite. Stray too far into the deep, dark woods, and you might never see the sun again. 

Not the sort of place the average person might want to go. To some, it might look frightening. Haunted.

Near the graveyard, a figure appears amongst the trees. A trick of the light, maybe - or maybe a ghost. But as it approaches, it becomes more distinct. The dead prince makes his way out of the forest, one gloves hand clutching a makeshift bouquet of colourful wildflowers. He’s staring upward, marvelling at the canopies so far above him, and his smile, slightly incorporeal as it may be, might just manage to brighten even the most frightening of deep forests.

He catches sight of the other person near the graveyard and walks over, smiling warmly. His layers of robes trail out behind him, sweeping the very tips of the blades of grass.

“I have never seen a forest before,” he says, and the wondering tone makes it clear he’s still lost in thought. “Is it not beautiful? The palace was a place of walls and manicured gardens. I… I have not had the opportunity to see the beauty of nature before. Not like this.”

“No one worthy enough of a proper burial, that’s for sure.”

She walks over to the freshest plot of dirt and kicks it with an apparent lack of respect. Where the emissary had stopped a few feet away, she strode over the site of the burial to squint at the words inscribed on the headstone with a snort. “Come to pay your respects with those flowers, prince? I’m not sure they deserve it.”

A few more seconds are spared to stare at the epithet inscribed before Nori shrugs, settling down and using the stone as a makeshift seat instead. She stares at the intricate robes and headdress with as much attention as she gave the grave before her expression screws up into something mixed between confusion and disgruntlement. “I’ve never been a fan of wilderness – its unpredictable, hard to figure out. But sure, I can see how you might like it. You know, I don’t believe we ever formally introduced ourselves before. D’ you think it’s too late, now? It kind of seems like a waste of time.”

[♩♫♪] 

The first thing Nori’s aware of is cold, heavy metal around each limb.

It’s the only thing she can focus on at first - a steel bracelet is fit around each wrist and ankle, fit so tight that even if she were to break the bones in her hands they wouldn’t come loose. The light is dim, weak, but they’re easy enough to identify. Each is looped through by a length of leather cord which trails past her and disappears into the low-lit gloom barely feet away from where she stands. Suspiciously, she stares after them. If she looks closely they, and the dirt and small pebbles below, are… vibrating?

“Nnhhghh…. Frr…. Urrghh!!”

The ceiling proved to be more of a problem than anticipated for the young sailor, despite her boot-clad feet being placed precariously onto a pile of boxes she acquired from the storage room. She wished she could say that the patch in the ceiling was just out of her reach, but it proved to be a considerable distance away from her tiny, gloved hands. 

The laundry room left a lot to be desired– the surroundings matched the rest of the floor almost perfectly, from its cracks in the walls to its thick layer of grime and dust decorating the area. But the most notable blemish of the small, run-down room was a patch of different color in the ceiling. 

It was obvious something had caused a hole in the floor above them, and hopefully, just maybe, the patch job wasn’t done correctly. It wouldn’t be too much of a surprise if it was done badly enough to perhaps break, considering the state of the rest of the mess that they now called home. All she had to do was push up on the ceiling, see how sturdy it was, and hopefully, find a blunt tool of some sort to crack it open and escape into the upper floor where there could be a phone, a window, or maybe even their captor.

‘Hopefully it’s the last option,’ she thought, fingertips stretching as far as they could upwards, ‘so I can teach them a lesson.’ 

The pile of boxes shook then, and she stretched her arms out to catch her balance, closing her eyes in preparation of impact should she fall. Thankfully, the towering pile become stationary, and with a sigh of relief, Namiko’s periwinkle gaze fell back onto the patch in the ceiling, just out of her reach. ‘Stupid, stupid thing!’

She shook that from her mind with a very visible toss of her head, snorting to herself and scratching at her arm distractedly. Not like the motive had changed anything. If anyone had wanted to kill, they wouldn’t have needed the extra push—when escape was an option, money was meaningless. Still. Peeking around the door, the one element of change she hadn’t quite expected was a precarious sailor girl, playing jenga with cardboard boxes and her own body in a futile attempt to reach for the ceiling. For a full, dumb five seconds, Nori stared.

“Hey, what’s going on? Oh, good, I was lookin’ for you so this will be two birds with one stone. I kind of need my scouting buddy because I... ah... Hey now, you’re going to fall, goin’ on like that.“ She took two steps towards the monstrosity, reaching out towards Namiko’s ankles instinctively and giving a small tug. “Ya can stand on my shoulders instead—“

The goal was obvious; the poorly patched hole in the ceiling. With the two of them plus the boxes they could reach it, albeit precariously. Still, it wasn’t a bad move and there were certainly worse ideas circulating. The easiest course of action would be to get Namiko sitting on her shoulders firmly and then Nori could climb to the top and adjust accordingly from there.

As per usual, she’d failed to appreciate the causality of casual clumsiness on her own two feet and stumbled. Her grip on Namiko’s ankles tightened instinctively, her feet skittering under her as she skittered to a stop right before the boxes. Nori looked up at the boxes. On Namiko. And then the entire affair tilted towards her and proceeded to collapse.

“I’ve never had the shit beaten out of me by someone so small,” he remarked, raising his eyebrows. “If I didn’t think you’d beat me to death by accident, maybe I’d be inclined to let you. But you’re mistaken if you think it would change the way I am.”

He leaned forward, separating their faces by less than an inch. “Sensationalizing death is my job, you know. I can spin petty, worthless street crime into something that grasps the hearts of teenagers, suburbanites, salarymen—everyone. Think of what I could do with this.” There was a gleam in his eye as he straightened, gaze never leaving Nori’s. “Don’t you understand?”

Her breath caught audibly in her throat as he leaned within an inch, not moving until he’d backed off again. Had he noticed the way her hands wouldn’t stop shaking? Did he see the twitch of her lips into a snarl she couldn’t control? She should spit in his face. Headbutt him in the jaw. Instead, she did nothing till his withdrawal permitted her. “So caught up in if you could, you don’t even consider if ya should. Of course I understand – I’m not a fuckin’ idiot. I may not…  speak as damn pretty as you, but I know how t’ say what I want, an’ what I think, an’ what I believe. I don’t just tell people what they wanna hear, which is what I can only assume your talent. Making their death into one of yer stories, twisting the truth, turnin’ them into monsters… of course.”

When his smile slipped from his face for the first time since he’d pulled her aside, something in her stomach fluttered. “I could care less about you. Wasn’t a prediction, or a threat – just a warnin’. Pass the word on, if you want, since you’re so damn good at that apparently.” At least, to her face, he’d given an assurance she wasn’t one of his targets. She’d be foolish to trust him of course, but the vice versa was true too. It was an uncomfortable truce.

Speaking of blegh, this time, upon entering, she’d been greeted with a new bizarre sight that probably wouldn’t leave her head anytime soon. She’d never liked shots personally. Any pointy hospital tool was bad news in her books; maybe that’s thanks to all the horror she’s familiarized with. She winces when the needle makes contact with Nori’s arm and mumbles ‘gross’ under her breath. Lolita’s honestly not sure whether she wants to pursue the topic of what the hell was that. Maybe it’s just a painkiller or something but the real question is does she want to know? She won’t forget this, for sure, if this person ends up murdering or something she’ll have this stored away in some mental evidence locker but is there any point to pursuing it now? Such an unpleasant thing? Not really. But… it’s not like that’ll stop her.

She’s never been the type to stop her big mouth from running.

“Long enough to see you stick that thing in your arm. What’s with that? You’ve got some disease you’re hiding from us or something?”

Lolita puts her hands adamantly on her hips as if this adds some weight to the order. Or implied order anyway, it’s not like she’s barking out ‘SPILL THE BEANS’ she’s just angling for the beans to be spilt. It helps to know if the people you’re staying with have a fatal disease or something after all, right? Maybe that’s just paranoid but two people are dead and she has little interest in being the third.

“I can’t say who or when but someone IS going to try it again. If there’s one thing I know, that’s it.”

A rather pessimistic opinion, perhaps, but she doesn’t quite see it that way. It’s more just a logical progression given the parameters. And if the bear has all the power he’s displaying then… it’s only natural to assume he’s only getting warmed up. He probably has more and more terrible things in store for them. Joy of all joys.

“As for the twins… they’re not bad people. I guess. But they tried to kill us all, kinda makes thinking about them all fondly difficult, you know? ..One thing’s for sure: they were cowards. Gave up way too easily. It got difficult so they made some selfish plan? Hmph. The idea someone’s ready to die… I just can’t comprehend it.”

This girl’s attitude bothered her – who was she to be ordering answers? – but the questions were fairly straight forward and not a burden to supply a response to. She’d seen this purple haired figure around, but not gotten a chance to interact with her. Luckily, it seemed, for she was saddled with a case of being a near unmanageable bigmouth with a pouting problem. She and Nori would get on just fine.

And, at least, Lovelace was responding to her interrogations as well. With an equal interaction like that, there was even less reason for Nori to kick up a fuss and not give answers. She listened to Lovelace’s reflection on the twins with a tilted head and pursed lips, saying nothing before rolling it over in her head a few times. “Nagi a coward, then, and Nami selfish?” She hated using first names in such an overly familiar gesture, but it was difficult enough to verbally differentiate between the two when she’d never gotten close to them in the first place. “Or did you mean the they’re cowards an’ selfish, the both of them?” Automatically, Nori found herself nodding along to Lovelace’s assessment on the event, motivation, and personal views. “Im sure she didn’t mean t’ get caught – would have been satisfied just lettin’ her brother die an’ walkin’.”

Monokuma’s head peaks out from under the bed and it raises its hand smartly. It wriggles, straining to push out from its hiding place, but it very quickly becomes apparent that the bed has it pinned.

“Curse this belly.”

Monokuma places its hands behind its head and looks up at Nori, doing its best to smile. It looks a little queasy.

“Don’t mind setting a few minds at ease, y’know? As principal, I want the best for all my students. Which reminds me; has anyone actually attended class since they got here? Is that my job? I’ll be honest, I lied on my CV, I didn’t go to teacher school. But I have passion! That’s more important than any qualification. Or ability. Or desire to actually do my job.”

It frowns and purses its non-lips together.

Regarding him with only curiosity, she studied him – the nasally voice, comical coloration, protruding features. Overall.. less than threatening. It was difficult to muster fear at the sight of him, especially considering all experiences insofar had placed him as a facilitator and not an aggravator. He was as much a tool as anything, for someone.

“An’ do you prefer verbal, or thoughts? Clearly ye can hear both, but I prefer t’ talk. If you don’t mind.” A constant nagging in the back of her mind reminded her to be polite, given that she was the one entreating of him. “We’re not required t’ go to classes in the normal Hope’s Peak. I assumed the rules carried over.”

Her brow furrowed at the comment about grief counselling, mind balking at the thought before she firmly decided to completely ignore it. “Ah, nah, I had a few questions about the system. I’m not comfortable learnin’ the rules post-hoc, so I’d like t’ start with what I’m at liberty to know.”

“As you can see, tempers are running high here at Hope’s Peak,” he went on, peppering his words with quiet laughter. He ran his fingers down his cheek and noted the sting. “Faced with death at the hands of their classmates, many students—much like young Katsutame-san—are unable to control themselves.”

“What is. Your fucking. Problem?” She snarled, taking a step in as he did as well and near spitting in his face. “Making jokes? Laughin’? Pretendin’ this is a fuckin’ joke?” Her eyes flicked to the red on his cheek and her hands shook. “Sensationalizing death? And I thought I was fucked in the brain, but I’m a goddamn therapist compared to you. I can control myself just god damn fine. I’m not beating the shit out of you right now, aren’t I?”

The thought crossed her mind – Izo on the floor below her, black eyed, split lipped, and whimpering with his blood on her knuckles. She wanted to make him bleed. Cry. Hurt. That dumb, awful smile wiped off his disgustingly handsome face.  Her eye twitched.

“I’m not an idiot. I’m not gonna throw away e’rything I’ve worked for on a shitty, idiot gamble like that. Hell, I’d rather stay here forever than bother. But if someone tries t’ kill me, I’ll maim them within an inch of their life. An’ leave them alive. That means you, too, especially, bastard.”

“I’m… sorry Katsutame-san. Forgive me for acting so impulsively. Even if you are a stranger to me, your life is far from meaningless to me. I’m glad you’re not going to kill yourself, but I do still have my concerns on why you’re doing this. However, it’s not my place, so I won’t pry further on that subject. As for my  bleeding heart…” She withdrew her gaze from the floor, her face deadly serious as her eyes stared directly into Nori’s.

Another sigh, and she moved to cradle the hard earned medicinal supplies in her hands. Mameyoshi hadn’t demanded an explanation, but the most efficient way to keep her from intruding, worrying, and interfering was to give her one. “I got shaky after the trial, so wanted something to calm me down. From not enough sleep, or from what we saw, or somethin’. I may not have human decency I guess, but seeing someone die can shake anyone up. Okay? But I know what I’m doin’.” The fact Mameyoshi, even in the midst of a lecture, chose to apologize twice unsettled her.  It wasn’t politeness that dictated such a thing, simply Mameyoshi’s character. And yet… it was hard to not suspect, even without cause, that there was more to her than this gentle façade. No one could be that kind -- not without something to gain.

“Katsutame-san what are you doing!? This isn’t the answer, please we can talk this out and think of other options! I know losing our classmates is a huge trauma, but… but… trying to end it like this isn’t going to help!” Mameyoshi was full on panicking, frantic as she grabbed the bottle and syringe in hopes of making sense of if it was potentially lethal, and if it was, if there was any way to reverse the effects. Of course none of it made any sense to her, but she couldn’t let another person die on her, not if she had the power to actually prevent it this time.

Nori heard only snippets of what the maiko was wailing, instead only focusing on the very pertinent fact that the woman had reached around Nori to take her hard-found treasures. “Give those fucking back, right now!” She lunged off the counter, gloved hands closing over Mameyoshi’s in an attempt to wrestle the two objects out of her hands.  “Of course I know what I shot up – I’m not tryin’ to fuckin’ kill myself, or I woulda used the whole bottle! Not with how hard I worked to get here. I’d kill someone else and fuckin’ get out of here before I even thought of somethin’ so pitiful. Hand ‘em over, right now, or I’ll take them from you.”

Shit – she shouldn’t be exerting herself. Sensibly Nori hadn’t taken enough to actually put her out of commission (only a fool would, in this kind of environment), but her muscles protested the movements while her brain complained over having to process such shrill, rapid whines.

Nori broke away from Mameyoshi, regarding her with angry, narrowed eyes. “I can read the label you know, I’m not fuckin’ blind. ‘thiobarbital and sodium carbonate, CAS ID 76-75-5’. I’d have to be the size of a yappy dog for it t’ dose to have any permanence. Want me to recite the goddamn serial number? ‘cause I know that too. If you spill one goddamn drop of that, I swear I’ll put the rest inside you instead.” However vitriolic, her words lacked the proper emotional intensity and she seemed more annoyed than murderously angry. “Fuck…you mean you think anyone would even care if another of us kicked it, though?  We don’t even know each other. We’re strangers. We just saw a girl get burned still breathin’. Yer bleeding heart is gonna be the death of you, ya know. What’s in it for you to be so carin’?”

“Mass-kidnapping, night terrors, fratricide—I’m here at Hope’s Peak where unspeakable tragedy has just unfolded.” Though his words were crisply delivered, there was something playful about the anchor’s tone. He seemed to address an invisible audience. “Izanagi Tsukade, murdered at the hands of his own sister in a complex plot to frame classmate and CEO, Suzuka Shinonome. A deduction by young Shinonome herself led to the unravelling of the duo’s plans and the untimely execution of the last remaining pair dancer: Izanami Tsukade.”

Despite the subject matter, Izo was unable to wipe the grin off his face. For the first time since getting here he had fuel to burn, and he’d be damned if he let it all go to waste. This was fun, and if that made him look like he was out of his mind, so be it. He draped an arm around his unsuspecting classmate’s shoulders.

She wrinkled her nose. And then there was the smell. She’d spent most of her days outdoors – being trapped inside like this bothered her just in terms of the dead, damp air. And… were all the other students washing their clothes regularly?

A hand grabbed her. She froze.

Wide eyed and stiff, her mind blanked at this person started talking to her. A handsome stranger – no, the man from the trash room. Different hair. Different demeanour. Different clothes. And talking to her. She tried to get a word in edgewise several times, but the grinning maniac was talking to empty air and going too fast for her to either understand or respond to.

When he slung his arm around her, Nori panicked. Her arm cocked back, her stance widened, and she slung her fist directly into his perfect, handsome cheekbones before jerking away.

Focused on the task at hand, Nori spared only the minimal attention towards the maiko. More of that shit about getting along and doing their best – it certainly took all sorts to make a world, optimists and realists alike, but this baseless hopefulness was exhausting. Either this maiko was incredibly good at putting on a brave face, or she was an idiot.

It was more than easy for Nori to believe the latter.

“Nori Katsutame. Equestrian. Dunno if you gotta consider me a classmate since this turned out to be more of a glorified prison than a school.” Even though phrases like ‘good to meet you’ were simple curtesy, they never failed to cause discomfort. Such a simple lie, so deeply ingrained into common speech patterns… and everyone, without a second thought, said it. “Given the situation we’re meeting in, excuse me if I’m not as thrilled to meet. I’m sure you’re great company normally in auspicious circumstances. As is, I’d rather all of this hadn’t happened. And, therefore, I wish I’d never met you.” She’d finished with the knives and moved on to the larger appliances now, plugging them in with care and placing each in the exact spot they’d occupied before her interference. It was understandable a maiko was this polite; didn’t they need to be, professionally? Nori couldn’t help but find her fake.

She shrugged amicably, her light tone completely irreverent with the gravity of her words. “But it’s like I said. No hard feelings.”