#“enoshima junko” is just a vessel to spread despair

[angry-glasses]

Evil God!Junko...!!!

Prophet!Chiaki? Makoto? Prophet!Kirigiri???

Hunter!Yasuke and Evil God's Heir!Ryouko (except the relationship is more LYZ & BL, with Yasuke trying to stop her from becoming Junko. he even has the fucking around with her memories thing! :D)

(honestly though Yasuke would be such a failure of a Hunter. he keeps getting killed by Junko and leaving for a different worldline to "try again", like he didn't just doom the previous one by being a coward.

a good Prophet would switch him for someone else, but isn't he still the best suited to keep Otonashi Ryouko away from despair...? decisions, decisions...)

[mmani-e]

And in this week's post for DR: Demix, I'm finally sharing a concept I've had stewing in my head for a while now. A tale of not one, not two, but THREE JUNKOS! Yay!

In DR: Demix, there are 3 Junkos, the reason why is that I wanted Ibuki to have her own little Izuru form, and I thought the perfect equivalent of that was Junko. But to make it work, I needed to retroactively change a lot of stuff, and it was a really fun process ngl. And things got complicated regarding whether or not Junko in DR1 even is Junko at all, so I thought I'd add a little fun tidbit to that too.

"Junko Enoshima" in Demix 1 is Ryoko Otonashi, and the name is just a nickname people gave her in reference to the founder of HP. She takes up the name when Mukuro dies and she goes ballistic, like Kiyotaka becoming Kiyondo.

Junko Enoshima in Demix 2 is the founder of Hope's Peak. An anarchist revolutionary who was granted the opportunity to make a better world and kinda flubbed it because she was a teenager.

The "Junko" Project in Demix 2 is also the hyperactive and insane Mastermind" of the killing game, created in a secret project by disgruntled student geniuses, Ibuki was transformed into a sick reflection of HP's founder and manipulated to becoming a pawn of Taka's... but not really.

Junko 1, the Titleholder - The first Junko is the one we know and love from THH, but that is not her real name. Ryoko Otonashi - the Ultimate Moral Compass - is her real name, and "Junko Enoshima" is just a nickname given to her by the hopeful youth that see her as the successor of the revolutionary woman who founded the school of Hope's Peak itself.

In reality, this "Junko" is no more than an opportunistic teenager, who thinks the name is... weird, at best. Reveling in the popularity and opportunities she's given as the so-called "reborn Junko" to cause chaos, even if beneficial chaos, to every school she is shipped off to after setting the last one ablaze with riots and protest in the name of her vision of a right and just world.

It's not until she experiences an unimaginable loss in the events of Demix 1 that she fully embraces that nickname in a bout of insanity. Swearing to burn the school down to its foundations with everyone inside, promising through running tears that she would accomplish it, any means necessary to avenge her sister.

Junko 2, the Founder - The second Junko is seen in an old busted portrait taken about thirteen years prior to the events of the despair, and she is the revolutionary founder of Hope's Peak. An anarchist leader, she was the first truly identified ultimate. A revolutionary, quite literally, Junko used her incredible talents to bring Imperial Japan to heel in the second world war, starting a prolonged anarchist revolt that would only be quelled when offered to change the system from within, the government granting amnesty, infinite travel funds, and most importantly an institution made in her name where she could support the youth: Hope's Peak Academy.

Ultimately, it was a mistake to take the government's deal, as her efforts to spread revolution worldwide were quashed and Japan restricted her freedoms until she was an old woman who had hardly the energy to walk around the school she founded herself.

Junko 3, the Mastermind - Not forgetting the dream of their founder, many students united clandestinely to discuss the future of their school despite neverending scandals and reports of corruption. With their founder missing, they created a project to rejuvenate the school under a perfect vessel: an ultimate revolutionary of their own. One with every talent under the sun needed to retake the school for themselves.

A council of sixteen students at the head of the project did their best to transform reserve course student "Ibuki Mioda" into their savior... only for her to end up a completely out-of-control maniac.

"Junko" is a hyperactive monster, her only limitation being what her genius mind can come up with. She is constantly in a state of bliss as whatever desire Ibuki once had in that mind of hers was accomplished, even if she doesn't remember who she was anymore. And she lives to revel in that fact, to enjoy her talents now and forevermore, as it is the only thing she has of her old self to cling onto that makes her feel whole.

[more-than-a-princess]

"If I am both sleeping and dining here, surely they are all going to think I am above them. You must realize that."

"Because you are above them, whether you choose to embrace that or not," The blunt reply came from through the digital screen, a pair of emerald eyes scrutinizing the way her daughter's hair was being arranged. Without a real hat, for one: just a straw thing with a ribbon Sonia had insisted upon. Queen Valentina of Novoselic didn't agree with it: it was fine for a beach holiday before The Tragedy, but this was different: her daughter was not just a princess in the world, she was the princess. From the nation that had remained steadfast and strong throughout the terror of The Tragedy: Novoselic's walls had never been breached in over a thousand years of its modern existence, and Junko Enoshima's reign of terror hadn't changed that. Novoselic, and the Royal Family themselves, were symbols of hope, of a bright future, of leadership and healing from the mass genocide spread throughout the world. The fact her daughter had been a pupil at the origin of it all, Hope's Peak Academy, and had emerged unscathed, stronger and admirable and beautiful in the way no other future leader could ever hope to be, was a source of pride for Valentina.

Her wishy-washy attitude regarding her potential fiancés, however, was a sore point. Something she hoped would be rectified with enough time in the most suitable contender's company.

"But I am not," Sonia stressed as one maid, padding around the plush, new carpeting in her bedroom, selected a pair of shoes (suede, with thin heels. The sort her feet were shoved into before The Tragedy for official appearances) while a hair and makeup artist added a layer of gloss to her lips. From the outside, the ship appeared every inch a military battle fortress, complete with cannons and an air landing strip. Inside, once it had been decommissioned from war after The Tragedy, had been transformed to another sort of fortress: a royal command center, from sitting rooms ideal for private meetings, a dining room with a table that sat twenty, an office, several bed and bathrooms, and of course, space for the extensive amount of security and staff needed to run the place. There was even a well-stocked larder, with supplies from both Europe and Japan, to keep the Princess of Novoselic entirely fed, bathed, clothed, and entertained without relying upon Jabberwock Island resources. From the array of conversations with Byakuya Togami, he deemed it unfit for the likes of Princess Sonia and had urged her family to send an appropriate vessel for her living space. He would have arranged it himself, had he not been so busy with Future Foundation duties.

Frankly, he was too busy to give her the time of day unless it was absolutely essential and related to work or a future he envisioned. Sonia tried not to think about it as she sighed, removing the heels that had been put on her feet for her. "I am here at the behest of an old acquaintance, to see what I might be able to do to help the former Remnants of Despair acclimate to the current state of the world, and help them find their place in it. Masaru Yaguchi has done many favors for the Future Foundation, and this was the only request he made in return. It is the least we can do in exchange for his service."

"And to spend time with Mr. Togami," Her mother added.

"Yes, that too," Sonia relented. Between the constant rocking of the waves and the oppressive heat, two things she'd become unaccustomed to in the past few years, she wasn't in a mood to debate with her. But the fact of the matter was, she had yet to make a choice that would shape her entire life, and time avoiding that very decision was, even more than Masaru Yaguchi's plea and subsequent secrets he held over her head as an albatross, made her tour of Jabberwock Island all the more appealing. Even if she were to deal with staff fussing over her every need and then some, recording the evidence of her peaceful mission, reporting back to the Royal Family at home about her progress on several fronts.

"These are going to sink in the sand," She insisted, to both her mother on the video call at home and to the array of people in the room, from those entrusted to beautify her to Martin, her assistant secretary. Her primary secretary and closest friend at home, Cecily, was prone to seasickness and therefore Martin had been sent in her stead. Unlike her sharp eyes, squared shoulders, and generally organized and commanding presence, Martin was far more meek. From what Sonia had been told, he'd nearly doubled over with both gratitude and apprehension when the duties had been assigned: at least he didn't suffer from seasickness, only jittery nerves at being the one fully in charge of Sonia's life for the duration of the trip.

"Y-yes, Her Royal Highness is correct, I think!" He piped up. With mousy brown hair and barely 64 kilograms soaking wet at 170 centimeters, he was short and slight for a Novosonian man, with a timidness to match. But he had a desire to prove himself, which had encouraged Cecily to ask the King of Novoselic for permission to offer him the job. "It would be discouraging in photos if she is seen tripping when meeting members of the Future Foundation and the former Remnants of Despair! Please, choose something more sensible for her."

"You do not question Her Royal Highness's opinions, Martin," Cecily's voice chimed in from the background, albeit tiredly. Morning in an island off the coast of Japan was nighttime for Novoselic, and the last thing she wanted to do was sit in Queen Valentina's bedroom in Novoselic Castle while addressing Martin's missteps. She'd run out of coffee three hours ago and was not inclined to wake up someone in the kitchens for more. "You simply amend the plan, unless it is from Their Majesties and must be adhered to."

"The espadrilles, then!" The maid interjected, holding up a pair of cream-colored canvas shoes with wedge heels and matching laces, to be done up like ballerina slippers around her ankles and lower calves. Sonia sighed and nodded: she was already going to look ridiculous: roasting in a long-sleeved crepe dress with a bateau neckline and fitted skirt, its aquamarine color matching the ribbon on her hat and corresponding aquamarine earrings she wore. She was made to look like the crystal blue sea that surrounded Jabberwock Island, but Sonia only saw it as a relic from a world that no longer existed. Who was left to complete royal tours anymore? Besides her, of course.

"Yes, those shall do," Queen Valentina agreed, causing the maid's cheeks to flush pink: approval from the Queen was a rare privilege. Luckily, she could turn away from the screen as she tied the laces around and front and back and to the side, securing them into even bows. "And Martin, ensure that whatever Future Foundation officer is assigned greeting Princess Sonia, that they take her to Mr. Togami at the earliest convenience. And do not let her go out during the day without sunscreen and a parasol. She will not be returning home tanned and freckled: the photos will be atrocious and it is terrible for her health."

"Of course, ma'am!" He replied, though upon noticing Cecily's tired eyes he stood a little straighter.

"Very good. Well then, best of luck my darling," Queen Valentina offered a sleepy smile of her own to Sonia as the princess stood, turning in a full rotation for her mother's final approval. "I am sure you will be a triumph. You always are, and this will be such good support for your father and Novoselic's place in the new world."

A farewell and she was off, into the small speedboat that would take the away party from the ship to Jabberwock Island proper, both Martin and a maid, alongside two security officers, trailing in Sonia's wake. The young woman had taken her Queen's advice seriously, and now carefully held a UV-reflecting parasol above her Princess's head, moving in tandem with every step she took.

Sonia wished it were quicksand, rather than fluffy white granules that sparkled in the mid-morning sun. It was mortifying, walking up to a former Remnant of Despair (he lacked the quintessential black suit the Future Foundation favored), someone essentially marooned on a deserted resort island, while she looked as if she was about to negotiate some sort of treaty or trade agreement.

"Thank you," Sonia returned his smile with one that lit up her features far more. Even the prospect of leaving Novoselic for a little while was enough to encourage it. "And please, it is 'Sonia-san.' It is good to see you again, Murasame-san, though you may not remember me. I have been briefed on that." To that end, many, if not all, of the former Remnants might not recall her. A side effect of the Neo World Program, their memories were likely in bits and pieces, more fragmented the closer it was to Junko Enoshima's takeover of the former Class 77-A.

She nodded as they walked, noticing a slight wave from a Future Foundation member. Asahina, if she remembered correctly: one of the survivors of Class 78 who was likely instructed to be on her best behavior, because she wouldn't hear the end of it otherwise. "Thank you, I would very much appreciate the tour so I might become acclimated to the place," She replied. "I am interested in whatever you wish to show me. Unofficially, my duties here will consist of opportunities to bring relaxation and recreation to you, though my instructions are to provide someone to listen should you wish to talk, and mentorship if approaching the Future Foundation is too difficult. A third party of sorts, but between the two of us, I find it difficult to believe that anyone would utilize a sign up form to speak to someone they do not know. I mean, if it were me, I feel like it would be asking quite a lot to trust an outsider, and not someone who truly understands what you have endured. The Novoselic Royal Family and the Future Foundation do not agree with that stance though, so here I am."

It was the truth, just not the entirety. It would go against Masaru's request to divulge in full the reasoning behind her visit. Even Byakuya Togami and Makoto Naegi were kept in the dark: he'd keep his promise, if Sonia kept hers. And allowed him use of Boudry House during her absence, for convalescence. Upon her departure, she'd politely asked (well, she warned) him that if her library was out of order when she returned, she would be very disappointed with the eldest Yaguchi sibling.

@more-than-a-princess

"That's tight." The collar clicked into place, cold metal that heated quickly in the island sun, with only a thin strip of fabric on the inside to keep from scraping at her neck - though the red marks beneath made it clear that wasn't especially effective. "I'd prefer it a bit looser. Please." Without a bit of additional room, it chafed more easily, and on hot days, left faint burns on her skin where the hot steel pressed too long against her. An extra few centimeters to tilt her head without pinching or burning wouldn't make it any easier for her to escape.

Though, that was hardly the point. "Yeah, I bet you would," the Future Foundation agent agreed, even as he locked it in the same position. The collar secured, he turned his attention to the chain, attached to a pole erected on the beach for the express purpose of keeping Shinobu Yaguchi in one place. The agent nodded to himself, after he'd finished, before curling his fingers around the chain and jerking it down. He'd say it was for testing purposes, Shinobu assumed, even as they stumbled back, the uncomfortable feeling of the collar straining against them.

No, the point was to hurt her - to punish her. A motive so obvious that it was scarcely worth pointing out. Even the distance of her basket and boxes - far enough away that she'd need to uncomfortably stretch for bait, tackle, spare line, or whatever she'd need, and that she'd need to near-choke herself simply to deposit a fish without risking dropping it in sand and having it flop back to sea - was a punishment. Well, it wasn't as though she didn't deserve it. That they were alive at all, them and their friends, was a supposed kindness certainly unwarranted. "Try to stay alive, today. I don't go back until next week, and I don't want the headache."

A boat had come in that morning, large and imposing. She'd assumed it was to send out the agents itching to leave, and drop the new and miserable members off, but it wasn't here for the personnel rotation, then she had no idea its purpose. I suppose it doesn't matter much either way. Shinobu watched him walk away, before setting up her rod as best she could. The blunted hooks, given them after the realization of the danger a sharper one possessed, weren't easy to work with. If it were up to Shinobu, she'd prefer to be done with it all, but the knowledge that Ayaka and the others were depending on her for some meager food supplies fanned the flames of that otherwise-empty pit where her heart had once called itself obligation. Perhaps if she were lucky, she could catch a salmon for Anzu, when she awoke.

When Sonia Nevermind and her entourage disembarked their ship, Soshun Murasame was there to greet them, a smile on his face. Smiling, waving, projecting an aura of calm responsibility even when he felt neither calm nor responsible - that was what he was good for. That was why he'd been asked to escort Novoselic's princess for the duration of her time visiting Jabberwock Island. That, and he could be trusted not to hurt anyone, being both physically weak and a notorious coward. Unlike the rest of his friends, Murasame had survived two killing games by keeping his hands clean and his head down.

"Your Highness, hello. Welcome to Jabberwock Island." At one point, Murasame remembered being full of boundless optimism and cheer. Whether it was Ishikawa's terrible jokes or some impossible-to-understand comment Hanasaki had made, he'd always laughed along and encouraged everyone. These days, the hopeful attitude was forced, and believing in others seemed almost impossible - not least because the people he'd most believed in had joined him in plunging the world into darkness.

But if not him, then who? Sato was too curt and standoffish, and Shikiba too quiet. Matsuda was bitter and blamed himself, while Kamiya's constant sobbing cast dark clouds even on sunny days. Hinata had far more important things to do than be anyone's cheerleader, and the less said about Yaguchi, the better. Murasame couldn't imagine putting anything else on her shoulders would help her condition. It fell to him, then, to believe hard enough that things would work out. They had to.

"I'm sure our friends at Future Foundation have already given you a number of briefings, and if you have your own plans for touring their offices and speaking with their administrators, I completely understand." Although, he'd heard rumblings that perhaps things weren't going well there. Some final parting plan of hers, maybe. "But I'm available to show you around if there's anything you want to see on our side of the islands." Transparent, affable, considerate of others - Murasame clung to that essence of leadership.

Even if his last role had been self-declared Acting Prime Minister of a sham government. After what Yaguchi had done, Japan had needed a leader. Likely, the princess had seen his face more times than she could count, given how his unhinged daily briefings had been broadcast across the world. Well, he couldn't let that force him to falter. He needed to keep his chin up, accept responsibility, and make amends. For now, that meant hosting Sonia Nevermind, and making the best impression of himself and his friends. "We have a number of facilities, from our kitchen and dining area, to our farm and agricultural lab, the hospital and holding facilities, our weather forecasting station where we track storms." Again, Murasame forced a smile. "We're making the best for ourselves here. So, whatever you'd like to see, Your Highness, I'll be happy to show you."

[danganimaginations]

Can you please do a scenario where Reader plays as the Chiaki of the DRV3 class and is the one that was preventing them from falling into Despair, but ends becoming executed and Kiibo plays the role as Izuru?

I think I got a bit carried away with this, but I loved doing it! Thank you so much for submitting, and enjoy the story.

“They’re the only one who’s keeping them from succumbing to your influence, Miss Enoshima.”

“Oh, Mukuro, don’t refer to me as ‘Miss’. You’re my weird ass, ugly sister! No need for formalities~.” She laughed at Mukuro’s expense, who awkwardly giggled. “Now then, how do we get rid of her and make them fall to despair at the same time? Y’know like…killing two birds with one stone?” She held onto the last ‘e’’s, giving her a valley girl accent.

“How about tricking Y/N into being executed?” Junko nodded furiously.

“Go on, go on!” Her eyes sparkled. Mukuro’s eyes, subtly, lit up. It was one of the only times her sister had been excited in response to anything she had said. Even though she knew it was fake, it still warmed her heart.

“Well first, we gather their entire class in a room with screens. As we’re executing them, we record the footage and broadcast it to them. The entire class will fall into despair seeing their only hope in this now despair-coddling school; thus killing two birds with one stone.” She exhaled after the paragraph was over. “What do you think?”

“Sooo, basically what you’re saying is that we stream it on Twitch?”

Mukuro sighed. “Sure.”

You had just walked into your classroom, only to find nobody was there. A small, pink letter was laying on your desk caught your eye. Maybe this is the explanation…? The classroom was in disarray as you walked to your desk. You grabbed the letter by its corner, reading the cutesy handwriting.

“Dear Y/N,Please come to the basement of the Science Division!We are planning a party for you, to thank you for being our Class Rep.I know that you’re gonna sleep in today, so just come when you finish reading this note.Love,Your classmates!”

Did anyone write that cutesy in your class? You flipped it over, seeing a crudely drawn picture of your whole class. A dorkish smile spread across your face, not thinking anymore about the peculiarity of the letter. 

You did have some pretty weird classmates.

As you ran out of the classroom, the letter bounced slightly in your pocket. It was echoing the rhythm of your footsteps.

They had all been put in a chair, bound to it by rope. When everyone’s groggy exclamations of “Where am I?” were exhausted, panic set in.

TVs, previously showing static now showed a girl with two long, flowy pigtails. Her smile was one from a cartoon. “Good morning! I’m Junko Enoshima, and you’re watching the Disney channel! If you look around, you’ll notice that there’s one chair empty���how sad. Do you know who it is?”

“Y/N.” Saihara was right on the ball. “Where are they?”

Junko cackled. “Oh, they’re not going to be joining you all, you pathetic, low-life goons.”

“I think she’s talking about Kokichi and Ryoma, not all of us. More likely Kokichi.” Kaito’s voice was exhausted and irritated.

“Hey! You’re the lowlife, Kaito!” Maki shot Kokichi a glare, which only made his smile grow bigger.

“Stop talking among yourselves! That is final!” She waited until they stopped laughing. “I’m failing all of you. Anyways, here’s Y/N.” All the TVs, except the middle one that everyone was face, flicked on to show you in a dark, dungeon-esque laboratory. The look on your face was bright and hopeful as text appeared over the video.

Execution: Start

“That’s right! Your beloved little Y/N is going to die.” All of the TV screens shared this video now. The room darkened, leaving little to look at but the footage of you. “I’ll turn on the audio now, so you can hear every bone breaking, every vessel shattering, and every single gash opening.”

True to her word, they could’ve all heard your footsteps the way an audiophile would’ve loved to. 

But right when they all figured out you were going to die, they had been screaming. Yelling. Only a handful weren’t- that’s because they either were pretending to not care, or knew it would only lead to disappointment if they tried to fight back.

You could hear a small crackle before a loud shout filled the corridor. “HELLOOO~!” You covered your ears, flinching. “Ah, sorry, Y/N.”

“Who’re you?”

“I’m the Ultimate Party Coordinator, obvi...” She faked sniffling. “H-How could you not know me? I’m like, super popular!”

“I’m not exactly a party person.”

“Well, maybe you’ll change your mind after seeing the party me and your class helped set up for you!” You chuckled nervously. “But first we’re going to play a game to help you get there.” A small monitor came down in front of you, panning across your involuntary classmates. Small podiums with buttons came up in front of each of their chairs.

It took you a minute to realize they were tied to the chair using metal bands. “Wait...what kind of party imitates a prison?”

She laughed. “Aw, you’re actually smarter than what I though you were. I’m Junko Enoshima, the Ultimate...” A slight pause. “despair. Despair! I’m the Ultimate Despair!” Her insane laugh rang through your ears again as your fist tightened. “I plan to succumb your ‘friends’ to despair, too. Then me and them shall rule the world!”

“Y-You’re lying!” Junko clicked her tounge as you began walking.

“No. But, there is a way to save them: play my game honestly!” You stopped. “Ooh, see, you’re actually willing to bet with me! That’s the hope that’s keeping them from falling into despair.”

“So...if I win, you’ll let them go. What about if I lose?”

“They fall into despair. But there’s a huuuge asterisk!”

“Tell me.”

“Nobody ever reads the fine print, so you won’t either.” A feeling that arisen long before this sentence was now confirmed. She wasn’t going to play fair. “To get started, step through the door on your left!” The sound of bricks moving pestered your ear. Inhaling, you turned to face it and grab the knob.

“Welcome one and- well, viewers- to the Ultimate Escape Room, built especially for the Ultimate Escapist.” You looked up. It seemed like it never ended. “In a few minutes, the room will start flooding with a poison that insta-kills on contact with skin.”

You picked the worst day to wear a t-shirt.

“Anyways, let’s get started!” A loud beep echoed as you started scaling the bricks, trying to stay calm. They were slippery and seemed to be retracting into the wall slowly.

You could hear the sound of more poison gushing into the room, which drowned out the cheers of you classmates, who were trying to keep up your spirits. But you couldn’t hear them- they were whispers compared to the rest of the noises in the room.

“Look, look! Y/N’s almost at the top!” A roar of cheers erupted across the room. Some who had been crying now screamed through their sobs, trying to be joyous. All that ended with Korekiyo’s sentence.

“They’re not going to make it. It’s rigged for them to lose.”

You gripped for the last sliver of the final brick, only to feel the ones underneath your feet disappear. The hinge was the only thing saving your tired body from falling into the lake of posion, which was lapping at your torn shoes. Taking a deep breath, you pushed off the brick, grabbing at the trap door. You swore you could hear your classmates cheers turn into yells as it broke off.

The last thing you saw was Junko Enoshima’s taunting face before your vision was clouded by the posion, just before you lost everything.

Kiibo leaned over your body. It was peaceful. Your expression was not one of anguish, but of acceptance and melancholy.

How quaint. A human who had fought until the near end, gave up? The headstrong human he felt like he had known. But this was his first time seeing you. He bent down, playing with your stringy hair.

It made him want to cry. You were his only friend and yet he didn’t know you. Junko only wants to use him. Wasn’t that something you said to him while he was the person who knew you and you knew him?

He took your arms and hands and placed them in a praying position, laying it on your chest. Kiibo straighted your legs. Then he grabbed the nearest fabric that would be respectable to be buried with. He laid it over you, swearing that it made you look like you had died honorably. Like you did.

Kiibo stepped back, looking over you again. Maybe he would meet you again, if he went to heaven. He would love to apologize to you for everything. But deep down, he knew that would never happen.

Someone who worked in cohorts with the Ultimate Despair would always go to hell. Those someones could not atone for their sins.

With that thought finished, he turned around and left. Kiibo couldn’t be late to see his new coworkers, after all.

[nanamicide]

Red butterflies - chapter 7

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Kamukura-kun was unusually talkative that morning. Miaya focused her glance on him as she listened to him explain where he had gone off to on the previous night:

“I trust you to not share this past with Munakata-sensei. You would gain nothing from telling him about this, anyway.”

He paused for a moment, as if he were waiting for her to confirm that she would keep his story a secret from Munakata-kun. She wasn’t sure if hiding it mattered much – her former classmate would have been a complete idiot if he hadn’t guessed where Kamukura-kun had spent the night – but part of her really wanted to go against the orders, since the person ordering her around was constantly going behind her back. She didn’t exactly like how confident Kamukura-kun was, though. Knowing he could predict and guess what was going on in her head made her feel uneasy at times. Yet, she knew she couldn’t refuse.

“This will be our little secret, Kamukura-kun!” Usami’s voice excitedly responded.

“After I deactivated the security system, I saw Nanami.” Izuru paused for a few seconds, during which she thought that he didn’t have to tell her that. Given everything that had happened in the past few days, it was pretty obvious. “I really want to see her again but I need you—”

“Why?” It was unusual for her to interrupt a client in the middle of a sentence, but Miaya had to this time. When she met Nanami-chan yesterday, she had looked so fragile, as if she were going through as much distress as the people she usually worked with. She had to make sure Kamukura-kun had the right intentions. Despite the liking she had taken for him, she knew he used to be involved with Enoshima.

“I can’t predict some of her reactions, or my reactions to her, even. She makes things a little less boring.” She noted that he seemed to be searching for the right words; another thing he had never done before. Today was definitely different. “It’s like there this other person in my head that’s screaming at me to just spend more time with her. I can’t explain that either. But I believe I enjoy that feeling.”

Miaya smiled behind her scarf. Deep down, she knew Kamukura-kun’s sudden changes weren’t happening thanks to her and her work with him, but she couldn’t help feeling happy about what was happening. Ever since she had found out about it, she hadn’t been much of a believer in the concept of the Ultimate Hope, and her scepticism had increased upon her first meeting with Kamukura-kun. In spite of this, seeing him like this, acting of his own free will, made her feel as if he had what it took to live a normal life within the academy. She still wasn’t sure the existence of the Ultimate Hope was possible, but she knew Kamukura-kun could feel hope regardless of what had been done to him by the academy. That was more than enough for her.

“I imagine you need me to be able to see her again safely,” Usami’s voice added. “How can I be of help?”

“You might not need to do anything. It will be up to Nanami. I instructed her to email you before the end of the day. She will tell you if she wants to spend time with me too,” he explained. That means he’s not even sure she wants to see him like he wants to see her. Kamukura-kun doesn’t know something, and he seems to feeling better than when he knew everything about what was happening around him. “If she accepts, I expect you to bring her here at night. I can’t have her missing classes to see me. People would easily notice it. All you’d really have to do is convince Munakata-sensei that you can’t check on me in the morning anymore. I can alter the security cameras in such a way that they’d be showing past recordings to whoever is monitoring me as soon as Nanami enters the building.”

Miaya didn’t have to think twice before accepting. No matter who she was helping, she only wanted one thing for them: to be free of the things that were hindering their personal growth. And during the previous night, very much like a butterfly cracking through its cocoon, Kamukura-kun had freed himself and spread his wings out to the world around him. Taking one last glance at him before exiting the room, she noticed that the crimson shade of his eyes had slightly changed; it seemed brighter and more lively than she remembered. He definitely is a lofty red butterfly, she said to herself, closing the door behind her to head back to her own office.

As the rest of her day happened, Miaya found herself refreshing her e-mails a lot more than she was used to. She didn’t really have much more to do and felt strangely involved in whatever was going on between Nanami-chan and Kamukura-kun. She knew having close ties with someone couldn’t fix everything – it could even make things worse in some cases – but it wasn’t entirely useless either. At the same time, she could only imagine how rough this would be for Nanami-chan. But if she decided to welcome Kamukura-kun in her own life, she would be able to help her process and accept what had happened to her former friend, his vessel. No matter what she would choose to do, Nanami-chan would be safe. On the other hand, there was only one scenario that could help Kamukura-kun. That was why, as selfish as it may have been, Miaya wanted the Ultimate Gamer to accept what Kamukura-kun was offering her.

This is strange, though, Miaya thought, lowering her scarf to take a deep breath. This was something she only did when she was alone. Matsuda-kun’s talent and knowledge were beyond compare. I can’t believe he didn’t figure out a way to entirely erase people’s memories. To see Kamukura-kun relatively remember Nanami-chan feels almost… wrong, in that sense. I may not understand neurology and neuroscience as well as he did, but I need to know how, and why, this is even happening. I might be putting Matsuda-kun on a pedestal here, but I can’t believe he would have gone through with something without perfecting it beforehand.

She glanced at one of her desk’s drawers. Even though she had promised herself not to do this until she were ready and wasn’t positive as to whether she was, she felt she had to do it now. This was the only place where she had the slight chance to find a hint of an answer anyway. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out a small key. Inserting it and twisting it, she unlocked the drawer and retrieved the notebook she had kept there since she had found out about Matsuda-kun’s death. She had been extremely surprised to find such a thing in his lab, especially after Munakata-kun and Sakakura-kun had already searched the place for more information on the hope cultivation plan and Matsuda-kun’s various research projects. Her late friend had kept a journal throughout his life at Hope’s Peak academy, which, considering how well it was concealed, probably contained information no one knew about. If she wanted to do everything that was in her power for Kamukura-kun in any event, it was time for her to dig through it, no matter how painful that may be.

The young woman flipped through the pages, paying close attention to the various notes and sketches. The messy handwriting that was covering the pages amused her. Even when away from others, Matsuda-kun was the unruly and almost chaotic individual she had befriended. Most of the content of his journal was complex information on the procedures he had come up with – along with a few lines about his relationship with Enoshima, which Miaya tried to ignore, out of respect for him – but she was able to understand the gist of it. It looked like Matsuda-kun’s memory erasing technique basically was some type of brain surgery that consisted in the removal of neural connections in the hippocampus. She didn’t really grasp the details – something about glutamate and NMDA receptors – but she kept reading, trying to gather as much information as she could, and cursing Matsuda-kun for not being clearer in his explanations every now and then. She eventually reached a page that lacked any scientific data or sketches, which caught her attention.

She loves despair, but she loves me. In the hope that the hope cultivation plan can be of any good use for the world, I’ll do what she wants from me. I’ll make her forget who she is and what she’s done. And we’ll start all over. She won’t have to be like this anymore. I always thought luck was bullshit, but I truly feel lucky that I haven’t been able to find out how to completely erase all past feelings from people’s brains. Maybe it’s better if I never find out. Well, I’m not sure yet, but it can only be good for her. She won’t remember anything, but as soon as she sees me when she wakes up from the procedure, her heart will remember. It’ll send a clue to her brain. A clue that tells her she feels something for me. Maybe I can save her. I don’t mind getting my hands dirty and killing the remaining survivor if it means I can protect her. She doesn’t have to do this anymore. She can just be with me as Ryouko. I don’t need Junko; no one really does. It’ll be okay. As for Kamukura, I can only hope he has someone who means as much to him as I mean to her.

Miaya beamed to herself. This was the answer she had been seeking. Matsuda-kun hadn’t managed to get rid of emotional memories in his subjects. It had been accidental for Kamukura-kun, but he had ended up realizing that it may be crucial in saving him thanks to something Enoshima had asked from him a few weeks after the completion of the hope cultivation plan. You loved her, and it’s still hard to accept, she thought, looking to the ceiling like she always done when mentally talking to him, but you were a good person. They made you do this. You had to. Thank you for leaving this behind, Matsuda-kun.

She brought her attention back to the journal, wanting to know more. If Kamukura-kun could change by being around Nanami-chan, she would need an ally. She didn’t want to rely on her former classmates. They had broken her trust several times; she had only remained loyal to them because she thought her monitoring Kamukura-kun was what was best for him. Besides, even though Kamukura-kun’s plans were always perfect thanks to his analytical abilities, she had a hunch that his bond with Nanami-chan wouldn’t progress much if they only met at night in the exact same setting. This wasn’t something the journal explicitly said, but expanding on a few details, Miaya gathered that normal interactions were necessary for everything to work out properly. That also explained why an online interaction through video games had been enough to trigger Kamukura-kun’s buried memories. He didn’t only need to see her. Going through experiences similar to what they used to do together was also necessary.

It was almost night-time when she finished reading the journal. She peered through her window, thinking about everything she had learned about how the academy was run when Kirigiri-san was still the headmaster. She found it somewhat sad that the poor man hardly had any power over his own academy, considering he had abandoned his famous detective family and his young daughter to be able to focus on it. Kirigiri-san got screwed over by the steering committee and Tengan-san. That situation had obviously been worse than what she had been going through with Munakata-kun and the people he kept closest to him – she wasn’t supposed to be in charge, after all – but she found a few similarities here and there.

She would probably end up wreaking havoc within the academy the way Munakata-san had when he found out Enoshima, but it was necessary. Kirigiri-san needed to be headmaster again. She could give him the position again if he accepted to consider Kamukura-kun a regular ultimate, making him a student in one of the classes of the main course. She wasn’t exactly sure how to reach him now, but rumors had spread that he was still hiding somewhere at Hope’s Peak. Whether this was true or not, she had time to figure this out. It was her little secret project and she didn’t have to rush it.

Spying on Munakata-kun for all these months may have been wrong, but at least now the power is in my hands. I don’t want it, but this academy needs to be fixed for good. Blackmailing is wrong, too, but if Munakata-kun hadn’t given me a fairly high position in the security team of the academy on top of my therapist duties, I wouldn’t have picked up on his suspicious behavior with Yukizome-chan. I shouldn’t feel guilty for what I plan on doing, it’s in everyone’s best in—

A notification coming from the laptop that was sitting on top of her task snapped her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen and smiled. The e-mail from Nanami-chan, that she had been anxiously waiting for, had finally arrived.