;;腐った女;;

@ask-ultimate-mortician

Fukawa rubbed her tired eyes as she stumbled out of her room. She had fallen asleep at her desk while writing again. It had only been a few minutes, but that was enough to make her face feel weird from the way she had been resting. The thunderstorm that was raging on outside had startled her awake before any nightmares could.

The writer decided that getting a nice hot cup of tea would help her with waking up and help her continue to write. She was a bit antsy from the storm going on outside, the loud noises of thunder and the way it vibrated through the floor making her uncomfortable.

Once in the kitchen, she started the kettle on the stove as she got the tea she wanted from the cabinet. She was about to reach for a teacup when she noticed some mail on the counter. She recognised her own name on a few of them, but none of it looked of interest. One letter stood out from the rest, an unmarked letter addressed to Raules. Fukawa knew that the letter wasn’t something she should mess with, but her curiosity got the better of her.

Hearing Toko’s voice grounded Raules enough to stop banging and focus on breathing.

“I thought… I thought I was back, and they were…”

Raules needed to take some more breaths. They weren’t thinking straight, they knew it, but the reminder of the game through the letter and the sudden dark sent nym back momentarily to their execution, or rather the failed attempt of it.

“(You are not in a coffin. You are not being buried. They aren’t here, you were saved and made it out. You aren’t there anymore.)”

Raules repeatedly whispered this to nymself to ground them to reality. It was loud enough that Toko should be able to hear and put things together a little.

Their head was still buzzing, but they were able to focus.

At first, Fukawa couldn’t hear the specific words that Raules spoke. She was fighting off her own negative response to the dark and the reminder of her high school years. She had to handle herself and put herself together before she could do anything about Raules. 

Fukawa finally took in a deep breath, straightening her back and pulling her shaking shoulders back. She bit her thumbnail again as a self comfort. Once she had put up a physical wall to her panic, the writer could hear a bit of what Raules was murmuring. 

The words spoken were a description of an execution — an execution that the mortician had evaded somehow. 

Fukawa wanted to say something about what Raules said, but she worried that she would throw them back into an immediate panic. She needed to choose her words very carefully in that moment. 

“Under the kitchen sink. I usually keep some there.”

Once she felt the change in the structure from something so closed in to something a bit more open, she stopped. Because of her past, Fukawa had a decent gauge on whether she was in an inclosed space or an open room even when she couldn’t see. Just being out of the hallway but still in the dark was good enough for her in that moment. 

They answered as they bent down, opening the cabinet underneath and pulling out 2 flashlights and a fair amount of candles and matches. There were more light sources than one would normally find for emergencies— it was clearly a priority for Raules to have these.

“No, I’m not okay. I’m truly sorry you had to… experience that. I’ll explain a bit once we get these lit.”

The writer wanted to tall Raules that it was fine and that she didn’t need their explanation, but that would have been a blatant lie. That letter she’d read and the assault of being forced to remember details of her high school life that the letter triggered were only a couple of the reasons why she couldn’t brush off Raules’ offer for an explanation. 

Raules asked her as ne walked to different spots, placing a lit candle to illuminate each area.

“Sorry, that’s off topic. I’m not trying to change conversation.”

A long pause was all Fukawa could offer. She took in a sharp breath through her nose and then finally said something. “I-I need to know the truth.” She started quietly.

There was a lot of things that were acting as weights on her back but one of the things that really bothered her was that Raules knew a lot about her yet she knew little about them. Her experiences with Hope’s Peak — at least the parts she could remember — had been aired for the world to see. There was total transparency on her end because of that.

“It’s only fair. Alright.”

They look a bit shaky, but they push through it to explain. It’s the least ne owes to Toko.

“Everyone knows you were in a killing game, but I was in one too. I, along with 15 others, was kidnapped by Despair-followers and put into the 49th killing game. Apparently before the game, those people… they put something in my head. I don’t exactly know what, but they put something in my head so I would be just like them. They told me that it was the real me, and I believed it. So I worked with them from behind the scenes. I moved things into view, I set up scenarios to influence people’s actions, and by the end almost everyone was dead. They were dead, and I relished it. Instead of feeling nothing or at least pity, I enjoyed it— the despair of death is what they called it.”

Raules‘s breathing got shaky, but they continued.

” “In the final trial, I was revealed to be the mastermind. My eyepatch was removed to hammer the nail in the coffin (though my eyes had been like this before the game but anyway). I was going to die. They voted, I was taken, and my execution started. In it… in it I was put in a coffin and there were saws a-and it was dark. I think they were going to dismember me and then bury me alive, but I don’t know. The people in charge, the despairs, saved me before anything else could happen. The audience and the survivors were furious, of course, but they said I wasn’t allowed to die because I technically didn’t kill anyone by my own hands, which is true. I took an oath to be a mortician that prevents me from ever killing anyone. So I’m alive on a technicality. I-I’m of course guilty of everything I did or was forced to do or however you see it, but I’ve been able to continue my life somewhat. But, the fans won’t let me. After the game j got death threats and people trying to hurt me, so I had to hide and move constantly for a while. It calmed down, but sometimes I still get a brick through a window or hate mail, but the death threats are always false now.”

They look up to see how Toko is doing with al this information, then realize that one thread is still loose.

How different was what Raules was going through from her own situation? If she broke it down logically, Raules couldn’t be blamed for what they’d done. According to the information she was being given, they were physically altered to have these thoughts and feelings. Even if it was their fault, did Fukawa have the right to judge them over it? If she felt that Raules didn’t deserve a second chance, then she ought to feel that she shouldn’t have been granted a first chance, much less a second or third. 

The writer closed her eyes for a moment and let out a slow breath. She was processing everything that was being told to her, just trying to wrap her head around it. 

“I…” Fukawa started, before letting out a hum and shaking her head a little. “I wanted to compare us, b-but I don’t think that’s possible.” She said, her voice low and unsteady. 

She bit down on her thumb a bit too hard before she spoke again, “I-I can’t say we’re alike because you’re p-probably better than I am.” Those words were still not exactly what she wanted to say, but she needed to find the right words and apply them correctly before she could say anything further in regards to that thought. 

“It’s absolutely dis-disgusting that anything like that is still happening… The fact that… k-killing games are still going on… innocent people who weren’t even p-personally affected by Junko Enoshima are still being put through such t-torture… P-people who weren’t murderers being altered to b-become murderers… Ugh.” Fukawa wanted to literally spit at the thought. She’d overheard stuff about possible copycat killing games sprouting up, but nothing like what Raules was describing. 

@ask-ultimate-mortician

Fukawa rubbed her tired eyes as she stumbled out of her room. She had fallen asleep at her desk while writing again. It had only been a few minutes, but that was enough to make her face feel weird from the way she had been resting. The thunderstorm that was raging on outside had startled her awake before any nightmares could.

The writer decided that getting a nice hot cup of tea would help her with waking up and help her continue to write. She was a bit antsy from the storm going on outside, the loud noises of thunder and the way it vibrated through the floor making her uncomfortable.

Once in the kitchen, she started the kettle on the stove as she got the tea she wanted from the cabinet. She was about to reach for a teacup when she noticed some mail on the counter. She recognised her own name on a few of them, but none of it looked of interest. One letter stood out from the rest, an unmarked letter addressed to Raules. Fukawa knew that the letter wasn’t something she should mess with, but her curiosity got the better of her.

Hearing Toko’s voice grounded Raules enough to stop banging and focus on breathing.

“I thought… I thought I was back, and they were…”

Raules needed to take some more breaths. They weren’t thinking straight, they knew it, but the reminder of the game through the letter and the sudden dark sent nym back momentarily to their execution, or rather the failed attempt of it.

“(You are not in a coffin. You are not being buried. They aren’t here, you were saved and made it out. You aren’t there anymore.)”

Raules repeatedly whispered this to nymself to ground them to reality. It was loud enough that Toko should be able to hear and put things together a little.

Their head was still buzzing, but they were able to focus.

At first, Fukawa couldn’t hear the specific words that Raules spoke. She was fighting off her own negative response to the dark and the reminder of her high school years. She had to handle herself and put herself together before she could do anything about Raules. 

Fukawa finally took in a deep breath, straightening her back and pulling her shaking shoulders back. She bit her thumbnail again as a self comfort. Once she had put up a physical wall to her panic, the writer could hear a bit of what Raules was murmuring. 

The words spoken were a description of an execution — an execution that the mortician had evaded somehow. 

Fukawa wanted to say something about what Raules said, but she worried that she would throw them back into an immediate panic. She needed to choose her words very carefully in that moment. 

“Under the kitchen sink. I usually keep some there.”

Once she felt the change in the structure from something so closed in to something a bit more open, she stopped. Because of her past, Fukawa had a decent gauge on whether she was in an inclosed space or an open room even when she couldn’t see. Just being out of the hallway but still in the dark was good enough for her in that moment. 

They answered as they bent down, opening the cabinet underneath and pulling out 2 flashlights and a fair amount of candles and matches. There were more light sources than one would normally find for emergencies— it was clearly a priority for Raules to have these.

“No, I’m not okay. I’m truly sorry you had to… experience that. I’ll explain a bit once we get these lit.”

The writer wanted to tall Raules that it was fine and that she didn’t need their explanation, but that would have been a blatant lie. That letter she’d read and the assault of being forced to remember details of her high school life that the letter triggered were only a couple of the reasons why she couldn’t brush off Raules’ offer for an explanation. 

Raules asked her as ne walked to different spots, placing a lit candle to illuminate each area.

“Sorry, that’s off topic. I’m not trying to change conversation.”

A long pause was all Fukawa could offer. She took in a sharp breath through her nose and then finally said something. “I-I need to know the truth.” She started quietly.

There was a lot of things that were acting as weights on her back but one of the things that really bothered her was that Raules knew a lot about her yet she knew little about them. Her experiences with Hope’s Peak — at least the parts she could remember — had been aired for the world to see. There was total transparency on her end because of that.

@ask-ultimate-mortician

Fukawa rubbed her tired eyes as she stumbled out of her room. She had fallen asleep at her desk while writing again. It had only been a few minutes, but that was enough to make her face feel weird from the way she had been resting. The thunderstorm that was raging on outside had startled her awake before any nightmares could.

The writer decided that getting a nice hot cup of tea would help her with waking up and help her continue to write. She was a bit antsy from the storm going on outside, the loud noises of thunder and the way it vibrated through the floor making her uncomfortable.

Once in the kitchen, she started the kettle on the stove as she got the tea she wanted from the cabinet. She was about to reach for a teacup when she noticed some mail on the counter. She recognised her own name on a few of them, but none of it looked of interest. One letter stood out from the rest, an unmarked letter addressed to Raules. Fukawa knew that the letter wasn’t something she should mess with, but her curiosity got the better of her.

Hearing Toko’s voice grounded Raules enough to stop banging and focus on breathing.

“I thought… I thought I was back, and they were…”

Raules needed to take some more breaths. They weren’t thinking straight, they knew it, but the reminder of the game through the letter and the sudden dark sent nym back momentarily to their execution, or rather the failed attempt of it.

“(You are not in a coffin. You are not being buried. They aren’t here, you were saved and made it out. You aren’t there anymore.)”

Raules repeatedly whispered this to nymself to ground them to reality. It was loud enough that Toko should be able to hear and put things together a little.

Their head was still buzzing, but they were able to focus.

At first, Fukawa couldn’t hear the specific words that Raules spoke. She was fighting off her own negative response to the dark and the reminder of her high school years. She had to handle herself and put herself together before she could do anything about Raules. 

Fukawa finally took in a deep breath, straightening her back and pulling her shaking shoulders back. She bit her thumbnail again as a self comfort. Once she had put up a physical wall to her panic, the writer could hear a bit of what Raules was murmuring. 

The words spoken were a description of an execution — an execution that the mortician had evaded somehow. 

Fukawa wanted to say something about what Raules said, but she worried that she would throw them back into an immediate panic. She needed to choose her words very carefully in that moment. 

“Under the kitchen sink. I usually keep some there.”

Once she felt the change in the structure from something so closed in to something a bit more open, she stopped. Because of her past, Fukawa had a decent gauge on whether she was in an inclosed space or an open room even when she couldn’t see. Just being out of the hallway but still in the dark was good enough for her in that moment. 

They answered as they bent down, opening the cabinet underneath and pulling out 2 flashlights and a fair amount of candles and matches. There were more light sources than one would normally find for emergencies— it was clearly a priority for Raules to have these.

“No, I’m not okay. I’m truly sorry you had to… experience that. I’ll explain a bit once we get these lit.”

The writer wanted to tall Raules that it was fine and that she didn’t need their explanation, but that would have been a blatant lie. That letter she’d read and the assault of being forced to remember details of her high school life that the letter triggered were only a couple of the reasons why she couldn’t brush off Raules’ offer for an explanation. 

@ask-ultimate-mortician

Fukawa rubbed her tired eyes as she stumbled out of her room. She had fallen asleep at her desk while writing again. It had only been a few minutes, but that was enough to make her face feel weird from the way she had been resting. The thunderstorm that was raging on outside had startled her awake before any nightmares could.

The writer decided that getting a nice hot cup of tea would help her with waking up and help her continue to write. She was a bit antsy from the storm going on outside, the loud noises of thunder and the way it vibrated through the floor making her uncomfortable.

Once in the kitchen, she started the kettle on the stove as she got the tea she wanted from the cabinet. She was about to reach for a teacup when she noticed some mail on the counter. She recognised her own name on a few of them, but none of it looked of interest. One letter stood out from the rest, an unmarked letter addressed to Raules. Fukawa knew that the letter wasn’t something she should mess with, but her curiosity got the better of her.

Hearing Toko’s voice grounded Raules enough to stop banging and focus on breathing.

“I thought… I thought I was back, and they were…”

Raules needed to take some more breaths. They weren’t thinking straight, they knew it, but the reminder of the game through the letter and the sudden dark sent nym back momentarily to their execution, or rather the failed attempt of it.

“(You are not in a coffin. You are not being buried. They aren’t here, you were saved and made it out. You aren’t there anymore.)”

Raules repeatedly whispered this to nymself to ground them to reality. It was loud enough that Toko should be able to hear and put things together a little.

Their head was still buzzing, but they were able to focus.

At first, Fukawa couldn’t hear the specific words that Raules spoke. She was fighting off her own negative response to the dark and the reminder of her high school years. She had to handle herself and put herself together before she could do anything about Raules. 

Fukawa finally took in a deep breath, straightening her back and pulling her shaking shoulders back. She bit her thumbnail again as a self comfort. Once she had put up a physical wall to her panic, the writer could hear a bit of what Raules was murmuring. 

The words spoken were a description of an execution — an execution that the mortician had evaded somehow. 

Fukawa wanted to say something about what Raules said, but she worried that she would throw them back into an immediate panic. She needed to choose her words very carefully in that moment. 

“Under the kitchen sink. I usually keep some there.”

Once she felt the change in the structure from something so closed in to something a bit more open, she stopped. Because of her past, Fukawa had a decent gauge on whether she was in an inclosed space or an open room even when she couldn’t see. Just being out of the hallway but still in the dark was good enough for her in that moment. 

@ask-ultimate-mortician

Fukawa rubbed her tired eyes as she stumbled out of her room. She had fallen asleep at her desk while writing again. It had only been a few minutes, but that was enough to make her face feel weird from the way she had been resting. The thunderstorm that was raging on outside had startled her awake before any nightmares could.

The writer decided that getting a nice hot cup of tea would help her with waking up and help her continue to write. She was a bit antsy from the storm going on outside, the loud noises of thunder and the way it vibrated through the floor making her uncomfortable.

Once in the kitchen, she started the kettle on the stove as she got the tea she wanted from the cabinet. She was about to reach for a teacup when she noticed some mail on the counter. She recognised her own name on a few of them, but none of it looked of interest. One letter stood out from the rest, an unmarked letter addressed to Raules. Fukawa knew that the letter wasn’t something she should mess with, but her curiosity got the better of her.

Hearing Toko’s voice grounded Raules enough to stop banging and focus on breathing.

“I thought… I thought I was back, and they were…”

Raules needed to take some more breaths. They weren’t thinking straight, they knew it, but the reminder of the game through the letter and the sudden dark sent nym back momentarily to their execution, or rather the failed attempt of it.

“(You are not in a coffin. You are not being buried. They aren’t here, you were saved and made it out. You aren’t there anymore.)”

Raules repeatedly whispered this to nymself to ground them to reality. It was loud enough that Toko should be able to hear and put things together a little.

Their head was still buzzing, but they were able to focus.

At first, Fukawa couldn’t hear the specific words that Raules spoke. She was fighting off her own negative response to the dark and the reminder of her high school years. She had to handle herself and put herself together before she could do anything about Raules. 

Fukawa finally took in a deep breath, straightening her back and pulling her shaking shoulders back. She bit her thumbnail again as a self comfort. Once she had put up a physical wall to her panic, the writer could hear a bit of what Raules was murmuring. 

The words spoken were a description of an execution — an execution that the mortician had evaded somehow. 

Fukawa wanted to say something about what Raules said, but she worried that she would throw them back into an immediate panic. She needed to choose her words very carefully in that moment. 

@ask-ultimate-mortician

Fukawa rubbed her tired eyes as she stumbled out of her room. She had fallen asleep at her desk while writing again. It had only been a few minutes, but that was enough to make her face feel weird from the way she had been resting. The thunderstorm that was raging on outside had startled her awake before any nightmares could.

The writer decided that getting a nice hot cup of tea would help her with waking up and help her continue to write. She was a bit antsy from the storm going on outside, the loud noises of thunder and the way it vibrated through the floor making her uncomfortable.

Once in the kitchen, she started the kettle on the stove as she got the tea she wanted from the cabinet. She was about to reach for a teacup when she noticed some mail on the counter. She recognised her own name on a few of them, but none of it looked of interest. One letter stood out from the rest, an unmarked letter addressed to Raules. Fukawa knew that the letter wasn’t something she should mess with, but her curiosity got the better of her.

You can’t hide from us forever, we’ve found you before and we’ll find you again. Your punishment still needs to be finished.

How dare you try to live a normal life after what you’ve done?! What makes you think that after everything you DESERVE that?? You don’t get to run away from the consequences because you found a loophole! Danganronpa always punishes the culprits and if they won’t do it, then the fans will. We’ve come for you and we’ll do it again.

Stop trying to hide! Stop saying that the you you were before and after the game was the REAL you! LIAR! The REAL YOU is a KILLER, someone who LOVES death! That’s what made you the mastermind! And the Team saved you from your rightful punishment! How dare they? Even if you “didn’t kill anyone directly” you are still responsible for ALL the deaths in game 41! You may have passed the REAL rules but WE are still here. We have our own rules for what should happen to killing game masterminds, and you keep running away from us.

A series of unwanted flashbacks welcomed their way into her mind, causing her to have to close her eyes and take in a deep breath to try and continue reading. She wanted to understand what she was reading but it seemed so unreal. If Raules was a part of any of Danganronpa, wouldn’t they have told her about it? They knew she had been a part of the original game… Maybe that’s exactly why it had never come up. 

Fukawa took in a deep breath and kept reading, taking in each word meticulously. 

By the time she got to the end of the letter, her hands were shaking and she was fighting off a panic attack. Raules had been a mastermind. Not only that but the content of this letter had made it a point that this apartment wasn’t safe anymore.

Fukawa put the letter down, trying to guide herself to a seat. She ended up balling herself up on the floor by the cabinet. It took her a lot of brainpower to fight off her natural response to trauma, dissociation. 

After a while of just processing what she had learned, Fukawa forced herself up off of the floor. She needed to talk to Raules. The scared girl in her head wanted to just pretend she didn’t see it, but she knew that wasn’t an option. She was already so mentally unstable lately; she was almost certain that Syo wouldn’t allow her to sit on this knowledge. 

The bathroom was one of the only safe spots in the house, as it locked them off from everything. Though this stopped Raules from hurting themself, it was a confined space and who knows what would happen if the lights were to go out.

When they finally heard the knocking, they pulled themself up and to the door. They didn’t look ready to deal with anything— their shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned and hair a mess— but they opened the door a crack, just wide enough to see Toko holding the letter and for Toko to see their tearstained face.

“You… you read it. Didn’t you?”

Raules looked completely hopeless. Not the despair-type, but more like they were empty. The hollow Raules‘s voice cracked as they added,

“Y-you didn’t tell me.” Fukawa spoke in a low tone, almost too quiet to hear with the loud sound of the storms outside. 

She noticed how Raules looked. Seeing her roommate in that condition put the idea back into her head that she should just… forget about it. She was causing more trouble for them. It was obvious by looking at their face that they were also not in a good headspace over the letter the writer was holding. 

But Syo would never allow her to ignore it. Things with Syo were already very bad — there were new tallies on her thigh at least once a week. Fukawa locking herself and her concerns in would just let more get out of hand.

“No, no no no no no no. No!”

Raules began shaking in terror, and reached for the door. They cried out, desperate to escape whatever hell had formed in their mind.

“I can’t, I didn’t do anything! They did this to me! Don’t do this! I don’t want to be locked up again!”

They seemed to begin gasping for air and began banging on the door.

She stumbled back a little at the way Raules suddenly yelled out. Darkness, yelling, and the reminder of the killing games all in the course of a few minutes were more than Fukawa was equipped to handle. Her own mind was getting too loud for her liking but she bit the tip of her thumb and tried to keep herself together. 

“H-hey! N-no one’s here right now… I-I’m not l-locking you up.” Fukawa didn’t yell. Her voice was actually quiet in comparison to everything else. 

The writer had only wanted more information. She was upset and felt betrayed, but she had been in this apartment with Raules for a while and felt like she had gotten to know them somewhat. However, with the power out and Raules’ sudden reaction, Fukawa knew that she wasn’t going to get any info at that moment. She wasn’t even sure she cared about the information anymore. 

@ask-ultimate-mortician

Fukawa rubbed her tired eyes as she stumbled out of her room. She had fallen asleep at her desk while writing again. It had only been a few minutes, but that was enough to make her face feel weird from the way she had been resting. The thunderstorm that was raging on outside had startled her awake before any nightmares could.

The writer decided that getting a nice hot cup of tea would help her with waking up and help her continue to write. She was a bit antsy from the storm going on outside, the loud noises of thunder and the way it vibrated through the floor making her uncomfortable.

Once in the kitchen, she started the kettle on the stove as she got the tea she wanted from the cabinet. She was about to reach for a teacup when she noticed some mail on the counter. She recognised her own name on a few of them, but none of it looked of interest. One letter stood out from the rest, an unmarked letter addressed to Raules. Fukawa knew that the letter wasn’t something she should mess with, but her curiosity got the better of her.

You can’t hide from us forever, we’ve found you before and we’ll find you again. Your punishment still needs to be finished.

How dare you try to live a normal life after what you’ve done?! What makes you think that after everything you DESERVE that?? You don’t get to run away from the consequences because you found a loophole! Danganronpa always punishes the culprits and if they won’t do it, then the fans will. We’ve come for you and we’ll do it again.

Stop trying to hide! Stop saying that the you you were before and after the game was the REAL you! LIAR! The REAL YOU is a KILLER, someone who LOVES death! That’s what made you the mastermind! And the Team saved you from your rightful punishment! How dare they? Even if you “didn’t kill anyone directly” you are still responsible for ALL the deaths in game 41! You may have passed the REAL rules but WE are still here. We have our own rules for what should happen to killing game masterminds, and you keep running away from us.

A series of unwanted flashbacks welcomed their way into her mind, causing her to have to close her eyes and take in a deep breath to try and continue reading. She wanted to understand what she was reading but it seemed so unreal. If Raules was a part of any of Danganronpa, wouldn’t they have told her about it? They knew she had been a part of the original game… Maybe that’s exactly why it had never come up. 

Fukawa took in a deep breath and kept reading, taking in each word meticulously. 

By the time she got to the end of the letter, her hands were shaking and she was fighting off a panic attack. Raules had been a mastermind. Not only that but the content of this letter had made it a point that this apartment wasn’t safe anymore.

Fukawa put the letter down, trying to guide herself to a seat. She ended up balling herself up on the floor by the cabinet. It took her a lot of brainpower to fight off her natural response to trauma, dissociation. 

After a while of just processing what she had learned, Fukawa forced herself up off of the floor. She needed to talk to Raules. The scared girl in her head wanted to just pretend she didn’t see it, but she knew that wasn’t an option. She was already so mentally unstable lately; she was almost certain that Syo wouldn’t allow her to sit on this knowledge. 

The bathroom was one of the only safe spots in the house, as it locked them off from everything. Though this stopped Raules from hurting themself, it was a confined space and who knows what would happen if the lights were to go out.

When they finally heard the knocking, they pulled themself up and to the door. They didn’t look ready to deal with anything— their shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned and hair a mess— but they opened the door a crack, just wide enough to see Toko holding the letter and for Toko to see their tearstained face.

“You… you read it. Didn’t you?”

Raules looked completely hopeless. Not the despair-type, but more like they were empty. The hollow Raules‘s voice cracked as they added,

“Y-you didn’t tell me.” Fukawa spoke in a low tone, almost too quiet to hear with the loud sound of the storms outside. 

She noticed how Raules looked. Seeing her roommate in that condition put the idea back into her head that she should just… forget about it. She was causing more trouble for them. It was obvious by looking at their face that they were also not in a good headspace over the letter the writer was holding. 

But Syo would never allow her to ignore it. Things with Syo were already very bad — there were new tallies on her thigh at least once a week. Fukawa locking herself and her concerns in would just let more get out of hand.

@ask-ultimate-mortician

Fukawa rubbed her tired eyes as she stumbled out of her room. She had fallen asleep at her desk while writing again. It had only been a few minutes, but that was enough to make her face feel weird from the way she had been resting. The thunderstorm that was raging on outside had startled her awake before any nightmares could.

The writer decided that getting a nice hot cup of tea would help her with waking up and help her continue to write. She was a bit antsy from the storm going on outside, the loud noises of thunder and the way it vibrated through the floor making her uncomfortable.

Once in the kitchen, she started the kettle on the stove as she got the tea she wanted from the cabinet. She was about to reach for a teacup when she noticed some mail on the counter. She recognised her own name on a few of them, but none of it looked of interest. One letter stood out from the rest, an unmarked letter addressed to Raules. Fukawa knew that the letter wasn’t something she should mess with, but her curiosity got the better of her.

You can’t hide from us forever, we’ve found you before and we’ll find you again. Your punishment still needs to be finished.

How dare you try to live a normal life after what you’ve done?! What makes you think that after everything you DESERVE that?? You don’t get to run away from the consequences because you found a loophole! Danganronpa always punishes the culprits and if they won’t do it, then the fans will. We’ve come for you and we’ll do it again.

Stop trying to hide! Stop saying that the you you were before and after the game was the REAL you! LIAR! The REAL YOU is a KILLER, someone who LOVES death! That’s what made you the mastermind! And the Team saved you from your rightful punishment! How dare they? Even if you “didn’t kill anyone directly” you are still responsible for ALL the deaths in game 41! You may have passed the REAL rules but WE are still here. We have our own rules for what should happen to killing game masterminds, and you keep running away from us.

A series of unwanted flashbacks welcomed their way into her mind, causing her to have to close her eyes and take in a deep breath to try and continue reading. She wanted to understand what she was reading but it seemed so unreal. If Raules was a part of any of Danganronpa, wouldn’t they have told her about it? They knew she had been a part of the original game… Maybe that’s exactly why it had never come up. 

Fukawa took in a deep breath and kept reading, taking in each word meticulously. 

By the time she got to the end of the letter, her hands were shaking and she was fighting off a panic attack. Raules had been a mastermind. Not only that but the content of this letter had made it a point that this apartment wasn’t safe anymore.

Fukawa put the letter down, trying to guide herself to a seat. She ended up balling herself up on the floor by the cabinet. It took her a lot of brainpower to fight off her natural response to trauma, dissociation. 

After a while of just processing what she had learned, Fukawa forced herself up off of the floor. She needed to talk to Raules. The scared girl in her head wanted to just pretend she didn’t see it, but she knew that wasn’t an option. She was already so mentally unstable lately; she was almost certain that Syo wouldn’t allow her to sit on this knowledge. 

And with that, all the boxes were in the guest room; well, it was Toko’s room now. The sight of stacked boxes, along with Toko beside nym in the usually empty room felt unusual, but like the start of something good. Ne had no doubts Toko would be a good roommate, but sometimes seeing someone daily wasn’t a good idea— familiarity breeds contempt (and that is something to avoid with someone sharing the body of a killer). Still, Raules was sure of their decision to have her move in. Now the largest problem was unpacking and making the room Toko’s.

Raules shifted on their feet, unsure of the next step. They fiddled with their eyepatch and asked.

“So… should I leave you to it? Or do you want a hand?”

“Alright. You can take your time, you have as long as you need. Now, I’ll add those sheets to the bag…”

Raules finished up and pulls up the list of things she chose.

“A lot of functional stuff, that’s smart. It fits you. I’ll order the stuff and it should be here in a week max.”

Raules quickly slides the computer away and starts finishing up the purchase before Toko thinks to object.

“You know, I think I’ll get myself some things for my room too. It has a little personality, but I always mess it up before it looks nice.”

Raules makes sure to avoid how exactly they mess it up. The mood is nice, and they don’t need to ruin it with talk of their episodes, the despair ones or the trauma-induced ones. While on that thought, they think to tell Toko something.

“I should mention that sometimes I turn all the lights on and open all the blinds some days. I won’t go into your room, but if that happens don’t worry. I’m either cleaning or it’s too dark for me.”

So they alluded to their trauma after all, but did it casually as to not worry Toko too much a bad to not sound too peculiar.

It took Fukawa a moment before she realized that Raules was ordering for her. She wanted to pipe up but they continued to speak, stopping her from her interjection. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I just can’t believe I didn’t bring up my work schedule before!”

After calming down, Raules pulls out their phone to check if their normal hours had changed (they hadn’t). Being a mortician is a pretty demanding job, but luckily being the best one in the field meant they were on call less, since few could regularly afford their services.

“So, technically I’m on call all hours of every day, but usually I go in after 9 pm or before 3am. Most of the work gets done when people sleep since the funerals I prepare for are longer and start earlier in the day. If I get an emergency call for a client then I kinda have to go in. I don’t have to worry about those as much, since my clients are more expensive and if one suddenly passes I usually see it on the news before I get called in (examiners and law enforcement come first after all).”

“S-so, it’s just random for the most part?” To some extent, that was good for Fukawa because then she couldn’t plan her mental illness around their hours. It wasn’t like she did that on purpose; but she would subconsciously fall into her unhealthy habits more if she were bound to a schedule of being alone. Fukawa also knew that that meant that she might end up acting out with Raules around, something that she feared. “Th-that sounds stressful...” She decided to add.

“Honestly, I don’t know if I’d rather a more stable schedule or not. Ok one hand, staying on my toes is stressful, and on the other it makes sure I don’t do anything stupid to myself. The only downside to the job is that I work at night, and I hate the dark.”

Raules fixes their ponytail and adds while stretching.

When Raules mentioned her writing, Fukawa nodded a little. “Wr-writing isn’t necessarily the difficult part.” She could write in nearly any condition. She had struggled with writing at Hope’s Peak, but she didn’t need to explain herself as to why she couldn’t find the drive. She also didn’t write much in Towa City, though that place was a similar situation. Either way, she had been writing more after going back to the Future Foundation. 

It came out harsh, but really Raules meant it as a suggestion. So ne tries to explain.

“Online there are a ton of bloggers and Youtubers that read and review books to their audiences. You could pay them to review your books if you want, though maybe your publisher would do the paperwork. I… don’t really know the details, but I could look into it for you if you’d like.”

However, when Raules continued, Fukawa raised an eyebrow. She was completely technologically challenged; Social media was an especially strange world that Fukawa knew literally nothing of. 

Raules can’t help but think how hard it would be for Toko to maneuver the new online territory herself, and chuckles a little at it.

“Maybe I’ll learn a thing or two about the book world. It’s probably nicer than learning about the decomposition rate of organs.”

She was dragged from her thoughts at the dry joke delivered by Raules. Those darker jokes were something that she would have to get used to, but it was not very comforting to start. She decided to write it off and replied to them. “I-it depends... Th-there are some cutthroat authors who w-wouldn’t mind using unorthodox methods of intimidation.” 

And with that, all the boxes were in the guest room; well, it was Toko’s room now. The sight of stacked boxes, along with Toko beside nym in the usually empty room felt unusual, but like the start of something good. Ne had no doubts Toko would be a good roommate, but sometimes seeing someone daily wasn’t a good idea— familiarity breeds contempt (and that is something to avoid with someone sharing the body of a killer). Still, Raules was sure of their decision to have her move in. Now the largest problem was unpacking and making the room Toko’s.

Raules shifted on their feet, unsure of the next step. They fiddled with their eyepatch and asked.

“So… should I leave you to it? Or do you want a hand?”

“Alright. You can take your time, you have as long as you need. Now, I’ll add those sheets to the bag…”

Raules finished up and pulls up the list of things she chose.

“A lot of functional stuff, that’s smart. It fits you. I’ll order the stuff and it should be here in a week max.”

Raules quickly slides the computer away and starts finishing up the purchase before Toko thinks to object.

“You know, I think I’ll get myself some things for my room too. It has a little personality, but I always mess it up before it looks nice.”

Raules makes sure to avoid how exactly they mess it up. The mood is nice, and they don’t need to ruin it with talk of their episodes, the despair ones or the trauma-induced ones. While on that thought, they think to tell Toko something.

“I should mention that sometimes I turn all the lights on and open all the blinds some days. I won’t go into your room, but if that happens don’t worry. I’m either cleaning or it’s too dark for me.”

So they alluded to their trauma after all, but did it casually as to not worry Toko too much a bad to not sound too peculiar.

It took Fukawa a moment before she realized that Raules was ordering for her. She wanted to pipe up but they continued to speak, stopping her from her interjection. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I just can’t believe I didn’t bring up my work schedule before!”

After calming down, Raules pulls out their phone to check if their normal hours had changed (they hadn’t). Being a mortician is a pretty demanding job, but luckily being the best one in the field meant they were on call less, since few could regularly afford their services.

“So, technically I’m on call all hours of every day, but usually I go in after 9 pm or before 3am. Most of the work gets done when people sleep since the funerals I prepare for are longer and start earlier in the day. If I get an emergency call for a client then I kinda have to go in. I don’t have to worry about those as much, since my clients are more expensive and if one suddenly passes I usually see it on the news before I get called in (examiners and law enforcement come first after all).”

“S-so, it’s just random for the most part?” To some extent, that was good for Fukawa because then she couldn’t plan her mental illness around their hours. It wasn’t like she did that on purpose; but she would subconsciously fall into her unhealthy habits more if she were bound to a schedule of being alone. Fukawa also knew that that meant that she might end up acting out with Raules around, something that she feared. “Th-that sounds stressful...” She decided to add.

“Honestly, I don’t know if I’d rather a more stable schedule or not. Ok one hand, staying on my toes is stressful, and on the other it makes sure I don’t do anything stupid to myself. The only downside to the job is that I work at night, and I hate the dark.”

Raules fixes their ponytail and adds while stretching.

When Raules mentioned her writing, Fukawa nodded a little. “Wr-writing isn’t necessarily the difficult part.” She could write in nearly any condition. She had struggled with writing at Hope’s Peak, but she didn’t need to explain herself as to why she couldn’t find the drive. She also didn’t write much in Towa City, though that place was a similar situation. Either way, she had been writing more after going back to the Future Foundation. 

It came out harsh, but really Raules meant it as a suggestion. So ne tries to explain.

“Online there are a ton of bloggers and Youtubers that read and review books to their audiences. You could pay them to review your books if you want, though maybe your publisher would do the paperwork. I… don’t really know the details, but I could look into it for you if you’d like.”

However, when Raules continued, Fukawa raised an eyebrow. She was completely technologically challenged; Social media was an especially strange world that Fukawa knew literally nothing of. 

And with that, all the boxes were in the guest room; well, it was Toko’s room now. The sight of stacked boxes, along with Toko beside nym in the usually empty room felt unusual, but like the start of something good. Ne had no doubts Toko would be a good roommate, but sometimes seeing someone daily wasn’t a good idea— familiarity breeds contempt (and that is something to avoid with someone sharing the body of a killer). Still, Raules was sure of their decision to have her move in. Now the largest problem was unpacking and making the room Toko’s.

Raules shifted on their feet, unsure of the next step. They fiddled with their eyepatch and asked.

“So… should I leave you to it? Or do you want a hand?”

“Alright. You can take your time, you have as long as you need. Now, I’ll add those sheets to the bag…”

Raules finished up and pulls up the list of things she chose.

“A lot of functional stuff, that’s smart. It fits you. I’ll order the stuff and it should be here in a week max.”

Raules quickly slides the computer away and starts finishing up the purchase before Toko thinks to object.

“You know, I think I’ll get myself some things for my room too. It has a little personality, but I always mess it up before it looks nice.”

Raules makes sure to avoid how exactly they mess it up. The mood is nice, and they don’t need to ruin it with talk of their episodes, the despair ones or the trauma-induced ones. While on that thought, they think to tell Toko something.

“I should mention that sometimes I turn all the lights on and open all the blinds some days. I won’t go into your room, but if that happens don’t worry. I’m either cleaning or it’s too dark for me.”

So they alluded to their trauma after all, but did it casually as to not worry Toko too much a bad to not sound too peculiar.

It took Fukawa a moment before she realized that Raules was ordering for her. She wanted to pipe up but they continued to speak, stopping her from her interjection. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I just can’t believe I didn’t bring up my work schedule before!”

After calming down, Raules pulls out their phone to check if their normal hours had changed (they hadn’t). Being a mortician is a pretty demanding job, but luckily being the best one in the field meant they were on call less, since few could regularly afford their services.

“So, technically I’m on call all hours of every day, but usually I go in after 9 pm or before 3am. Most of the work gets done when people sleep since the funerals I prepare for are longer and start earlier in the day. If I get an emergency call for a client then I kinda have to go in. I don’t have to worry about those as much, since my clients are more expensive and if one suddenly passes I usually see it on the news before I get called in (examiners and law enforcement come first after all).”

“S-so, it’s just random for the most part?” To some extent, that was good for Fukawa because then she couldn’t plan her mental illness around their hours. It wasn’t like she did that on purpose; but she would subconsciously fall into her unhealthy habits more if she were bound to a schedule of being alone. Fukawa also knew that that meant that she might end up acting out with Raules around, something that she feared. “Th-that sounds stressful...” She decided to add.

“Honestly, I don’t know if I’d rather a more stable schedule or not. Ok one hand, staying on my toes is stressful, and on the other it makes sure I don’t do anything stupid to myself. The only downside to the job is that I work at night, and I hate the dark.”

Raules fixes their ponytail and adds while stretching.

When Raules mentioned her writing, Fukawa nodded a little. “Wr-writing isn’t necessarily the difficult part.” She could write in nearly any condition. She had struggled with writing at Hope’s Peak, but she didn’t need to explain herself as to why she couldn’t find the drive. She also didn’t write much in Towa City, though that place was a similar situation. Either way, she had been writing more after going back to the Future Foundation. 

And with that, all the boxes were in the guest room; well, it was Toko’s room now. The sight of stacked boxes, along with Toko beside nym in the usually empty room felt unusual, but like the start of something good. Ne had no doubts Toko would be a good roommate, but sometimes seeing someone daily wasn’t a good idea— familiarity breeds contempt (and that is something to avoid with someone sharing the body of a killer). Still, Raules was sure of their decision to have her move in. Now the largest problem was unpacking and making the room Toko’s.

Raules shifted on their feet, unsure of the next step. They fiddled with their eyepatch and asked.

“So… should I leave you to it? Or do you want a hand?”

“Alright. You can take your time, you have as long as you need. Now, I’ll add those sheets to the bag…”

Raules finished up and pulls up the list of things she chose.

“A lot of functional stuff, that’s smart. It fits you. I’ll order the stuff and it should be here in a week max.”

Raules quickly slides the computer away and starts finishing up the purchase before Toko thinks to object.

“You know, I think I’ll get myself some things for my room too. It has a little personality, but I always mess it up before it looks nice.”

Raules makes sure to avoid how exactly they mess it up. The mood is nice, and they don’t need to ruin it with talk of their episodes, the despair ones or the trauma-induced ones. While on that thought, they think to tell Toko something.

“I should mention that sometimes I turn all the lights on and open all the blinds some days. I won’t go into your room, but if that happens don’t worry. I’m either cleaning or it’s too dark for me.”

So they alluded to their trauma after all, but did it casually as to not worry Toko too much a bad to not sound too peculiar.

It took Fukawa a moment before she realized that Raules was ordering for her. She wanted to pipe up but they continued to speak, stopping her from her interjection. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I just can’t believe I didn’t bring up my work schedule before!”

After calming down, Raules pulls out their phone to check if their normal hours had changed (they hadn’t). Being a mortician is a pretty demanding job, but luckily being the best one in the field meant they were on call less, since few could regularly afford their services.

“So, technically I’m on call all hours of every day, but usually I go in after 9 pm or before 3am. Most of the work gets done when people sleep since the funerals I prepare for are longer and start earlier in the day. If I get an emergency call for a client then I kinda have to go in. I don’t have to worry about those as much, since my clients are more expensive and if one suddenly passes I usually see it on the news before I get called in (examiners and law enforcement come first after all).”

“S-so, it’s just random for the most part?” To some extent, that was good for Fukawa because then she couldn’t plan her mental illness around their hours. It wasn’t like she did that on purpose; but she would subconsciously fall into her unhealthy habits more if she were bound to a schedule of being alone. Fukawa also knew that that meant that she might end up acting out with Raules around, something that she feared. “Th-that sounds stressful...” She decided to add.

And with that, all the boxes were in the guest room; well, it was Toko’s room now. The sight of stacked boxes, along with Toko beside nym in the usually empty room felt unusual, but like the start of something good. Ne had no doubts Toko would be a good roommate, but sometimes seeing someone daily wasn’t a good idea— familiarity breeds contempt (and that is something to avoid with someone sharing the body of a killer). Still, Raules was sure of their decision to have her move in. Now the largest problem was unpacking and making the room Toko’s.

Raules shifted on their feet, unsure of the next step. They fiddled with their eyepatch and asked.

“So… should I leave you to it? Or do you want a hand?”

“Alright. You can take your time, you have as long as you need. Now, I’ll add those sheets to the bag…”

Raules finished up and pulls up the list of things she chose.

“A lot of functional stuff, that’s smart. It fits you. I’ll order the stuff and it should be here in a week max.”

Raules quickly slides the computer away and starts finishing up the purchase before Toko thinks to object.

“You know, I think I’ll get myself some things for my room too. It has a little personality, but I always mess it up before it looks nice.”

Raules makes sure to avoid how exactly they mess it up. The mood is nice, and they don’t need to ruin it with talk of their episodes, the despair ones or the trauma-induced ones. While on that thought, they think to tell Toko something.

“I should mention that sometimes I turn all the lights on and open all the blinds some days. I won’t go into your room, but if that happens don’t worry. I’m either cleaning or it’s too dark for me.”

So they alluded to their trauma after all, but did it casually as to not worry Toko too much a bad to not sound too peculiar.

It took Fukawa a moment before she realized that Raules was ordering for her. She wanted to pipe up but they continued to speak, stopping her from her interjection. 

And with that, all the boxes were in the guest room; well, it was Toko’s room now. The sight of stacked boxes, along with Toko beside nym in the usually empty room felt unusual, but like the start of something good. Ne had no doubts Toko would be a good roommate, but sometimes seeing someone daily wasn’t a good idea— familiarity breeds contempt (and that is something to avoid with someone sharing the body of a killer). Still, Raules was sure of their decision to have her move in. Now the largest problem was unpacking and making the room Toko’s.

Raules shifted on their feet, unsure of the next step. They fiddled with their eyepatch and asked.

“So… should I leave you to it? Or do you want a hand?”

“Alright. You can take your time, you have as long as you need. Now, I’ll add those sheets to the bag…”

Raules finished up and pulls up the list of things she chose.

“A lot of functional stuff, that’s smart. It fits you. I’ll order the stuff and it should be here in a week max.”

Raules quickly slides the computer away and starts finishing up the purchase before Toko thinks to object.

“You know, I think I’ll get myself some things for my room too. It has a little personality, but I always mess it up before it looks nice.”

Raules makes sure to avoid how exactly they mess it up. The mood is nice, and they don’t need to ruin it with talk of their episodes, the despair ones or the trauma-induced ones. While on that thought, they think to tell Toko something.

“I should mention that sometimes I turn all the lights on and open all the blinds some days. I won’t go into your room, but if that happens don’t worry. I’m either cleaning or it’s too dark for me.”

So they alluded to their trauma after all, but did it casually as to not worry Toko too much a bad to not sound too peculiar.

It took Fukawa a moment before she realized that Raules was ordering for her. She wanted to pipe up but they continued to speak, stopping her from her interjection. 

And with that, all the boxes were in the guest room; well, it was Toko’s room now. The sight of stacked boxes, along with Toko beside nym in the usually empty room felt unusual, but like the start of something good. Ne had no doubts Toko would be a good roommate, but sometimes seeing someone daily wasn’t a good idea— familiarity breeds contempt (and that is something to avoid with someone sharing the body of a killer). Still, Raules was sure of their decision to have her move in. Now the largest problem was unpacking and making the room Toko’s.

Raules shifted on their feet, unsure of the next step. They fiddled with their eyepatch and asked.

“So… should I leave you to it? Or do you want a hand?”

“That’s good. This is your room after all, so you should feel comfortable in it. You’re welcome. I’d think it would be a bit rude to not help out if you needed it.”

Raules stretched leisurely, and got an idea.

“So, how would you feel if I fixed us something to eat and we looked for decor for your room? Assuming decor isn’t what you have left to unpack. Or I could leave you to get used to the place. Whichever makes you comfortable.”

Like Raules could say anything about decorating a room, their own room had almost no decorations. Things would be put up, and would be torn down when they had an episode. Eventually everything would end up stuffed in a pile (a bag if ne had the energy to clean) and thrown in their bathroom to be ignored until ne had to go in. Maybe Toko likes decor though, so maybe it was a good idea to offer.

Fukawa mentally noted how she was still sitting on the bed without relaxing her shoulders or being even slightly more casual. She had never been one to relax around others, friend or not. Being relaxed often meant vulnerable, a state Fukawa hated deeply. She pinched the skin on her hand as she tried to shaking that from her mind. Thinking about a defense mechanism such as not easing up wasn’t going to get her anywhere. 

Raules leaves and prepares a plate of crackers and cheeses, surely something Toko could eat. When done, they took the time to set up the computer with some home decor sites, pulling up multiple since they didn’t know what Toko might like. After, they popped into her room again.

When Raules told her that they were set up in the living room, Fukawa nodded and put down what she was holding to follow. She’d not really considered what they would do to help with the decor of her room — she’d really have no experience in having to even think about it.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I should have known you would be a bit apprehensive about it.”

Raules pulled the laptop closer to nym and patted the seat beside nymself, gesturing for Toko to sit there.

“Hmm... I-I like darker colors...” She said, as she tried to think of anything else that would help with building up search criteria for what they were looking into. Despite thinking a bit hard, she couldn’t really come up with anything else off of the top of her head. “I-I don’t know... I-I know I don’t want those stupid motivational words or anything. Omaru really liked things like that, b-but I think it’s stupid.” 

Raules focuses on the computer , but catches the Omaru bit. They pull up some mixes of grunge and dark academia and turn the screen so Toko can see it better.

“Here are some. There’s more too but these seem to be popular for darker colors. Motivational words don’t feel like your thing.”

“I’ve got permission to paint the walls, so if you want to look at paints we can do that. Bedsheets are also an option.”

As far as bedsheets went, Fukawa had an idea, “Ho-however, I... B-black or dark bedding is probably b-best.” Sometimes she would wake up in her bed after things Syo had done -- and while Syo did clean up the blood she caused (if only for her own selfish reasons) -- there was always a chance she wouldn’t.