#Dongusrongus | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spidermilkshake · 1 year ago

Text

Dangan Island: White Rabbits, Black Rabbits (Chapter 1)

Dong Romper... Dangit Grandpa... Dongusrongus... whatever joke nickname you wanna give it, Danganronpa took m' brain and inspired me to write a bit of fun Island Mode-like AU for my favored game in the series.

Starring Not-kuya Twogami/the Ultimate Imposter as the principle POV, since I love them and they are such a drastically underrated character. Also I think my writing, uh, improves on some of the iffy things that appear in Dangan stuffs, or at least steers them and represents them in a more appropriate way. Of course teens are awkward horny weirdos sometimes--maybe doesn't excuse fanservice and going waaaay too far with the stereotyping. Ain't no saints--but don't condone their bullshit, and be sure to show their development and their good side!

Content Warnings: Bickering and Cursing on par with what appears in the game!

Word count: ~5000

Chapter 1

Jabberwock Islands

(Super-Early Morning, Summer 2012)

------------

It had been a bizarre week already, stranded on this archipelago of eternal summertime, but when nothing more bizarre than the appearance of the creature half-Magical Girl and half-rabbit as the full situation came to pass most of the class were able to drop their tensions. Going about the business of living in the confines of this “vacation” was really all each of them could do, and all most of them wanted to do now that their suspicions were reduced and tucked towards the backs of their minds.

The heavyset person bearing the appearance and dignified airs of Byakuya Togami, however, was still skeptical—and restless. Thick arms crossed over his puffed-up chest, half-supported by prickly-tense shoulders and the other half by propping atop the sizable stomach; sheathed in the sparkling white and smooth-ivory suit and slacks, it was a wonder he didn’t roast in such an outfit inappropriate for this climate. And yet he seemed stoic and unfazed as he paced along the pathway alongside the beachfront. His destination lay ahead, beyond a stand of tropical broadleaf shrubs towards the flat, elevated rocky end of the coast. It was a place where none of the others had cause to go—explicitly the reason for his coming here just as the fingers of reddish dawn were creeping in from the east. It would no do for Byakuya Togami to be seen behaving as he was about to—both because the Byakuya Togami did not apparently perform any such regular exercises, and if he somehow did he would not be caught dead doing so by “mere commoners”.

Satisfied he had no witnesses, his stony expression dropped and his shoulders loosened—the change in attitude seeming to almost carve a few inches from his height. Loosening up further, he took a deep breath and began to stretch; arms over, arms across, arms down until his fingers were planted flat against the ground. Shifting position with great ease and poise for his size, all his weight gathered over one side and balanced there as his other leg floated up to point out in a perfect perpendicular angle. Held—then gently planted down again—then switching sides—repeating the motions dozens of times until satisfactorily warmed up. For those first few days, he’d opted not to undergo this practice, loathe to exert any energy in the event things turned dire and he might have to use the gargantuan strength (and sheer momentum) he’d cultivated. By now, though, it would be far worse to put this off and risk falling out of practice. A few more basic strengthening motions should be enough to build up an appetite for breakfast…

It was either the zen-like focus of his exercises or the intrusive fantasizing about the Hanamura-made breakfast waiting in the near future, but either way as he braced his heels far apart and began to ease down into the more difficult stretches he missed the dull rustling of the shrubs and ferns. A horned, maned, electrically-hued head popped around the bend in the footpath and gasped aloud at the sight:

“Whoooa, Booyakasha?” Ibuki shrieked in both surprise and joy, “I had no idea you could do a split!”

The sudden voice and intrusion sent a jolt through him, and in an instinctual jerk of the neck to face the one barging in on his privacy he mistakenly dropped down the remaining few inches into the split—what would have been a perfect split, but by the sharp stings shooting through his hamstrings he knew right away only looked perfect.

“Nngn..!”

“Oof, aww, shit!” the Ultimate Musician put her hands up to her mouth before scuttling towards him, “You okay? I’m so so sorry—I didn’t mean to freak you out!” She sucked some air through her teeth on glancing down, “Shit, that’s like… rock you’re on…”

“Yes,” he grunted, supporting himself with his hands to try and stymie the pain in his legs, “I am very aware of that…” He struggled a moment longer to get his feet back under him, failed, and cast a long-suffering glare over to Ibuki. This would break character a bit, but he didn’t see any less embarrassing choices, “…Ahem, um… could you give me a hand?”

She lent him two, grabbing onto one be-suited forearm and heaving gamely. Her help was marginal despite its eager spirit, but it still did the trick and the Ultimate Imposter brought their mountainous bulk back up to a proud stance. Ibuki had yanked with so much of her strength she almost pitched backward once he was upright—stopped by her own scrambling reflexes and his hand clasping an elbow before she could fall.

“Hmph…” Crossing his arms once more, he tried to avoid looking too naturally embarrassed and instead donned the emotional mask of the Ultimate Affluent Progeny—stiff, as if trying to ignore that he was ever affected in the first place, “So, you’ve taken to snooping around in the early morning now, have you?”

“Ah! I don’t snoop, big guy!” She clicked her tongue, “And this is a path! I’m walking on it! I have every right to see you out here if you’re just, like, out here.”

“At 6:45 a.m.?” he huffed, quirking up an eyebrow.

“I was bored!” She twirled in place, seeming soothed by the waves of motion through her hair, “Hardly anyone else is up this early!”

“And you are?” The eyebrow ticked up higher, “Do you ever sleep?”

“Of course I sleep!” She snorted, “… sometimes.”

“…You couldn’t sleep, could you?”

“Well! Well! No.” She gave a defeated groan, “I get all caught up in what I’m doin’ and lose track of time…”

The Imposter eyed her throughout as she fidgeted, fighting to keep his expression from turning too worried. “Have you considered seeing Mikan about that?”

“Aww, but it’s not serious!”

“You need sleep, Mioda,” he retorted sternly, “Not sleeping is about as bad as not eating. Just consider getting her opinion on this, won’t you?”

“Sure, sure—I can’t say no to you!” She relented and then threw herself into an enthusiastic hug upon the bulwark of the Imposter’s flank, who tried not to react much aside from a disgruntled “tsk!” in Togami’s voice. “And speaking of eating—I thought I sneefed up some of Teruteru’s cooking on the way out here—we gotta get back there before everyone grabs up all the best stuff!”

“I agree…” he smirked, “Come on, let go of me. Come on, try to keep up!”

As expected, aside from Teruteru himself, they were still among the few already awake at this hour to roll into Hotel Mirai’s second floor restaurant. There was a wafting, pleasant odor flowing all throughout, forming a trail back towards the open kitchen doors where the plump little Ultimate Chef was practicing his art—half-humming and half-crooning along to something which the lyrics were fortunately indiscernible from a small radio. Nekomaru sat quietly at the larger table that most of the class tended to share, steepling his fingers as if praying for favor from the G.I. Gods through the steam of a mug of green tea. Similarly oriented to morning hours was Mahiru, sitting close by and alternately sipping a tall, creamy espresso-containing beverage and picking like a bird at one half of a toasted roll spread with something deep brown and smooth. The other half lay ignored amongst a rolled omelet and pair of nori sheafs also on her plate. Her general aversion to “overeating” was observable on her petite frame as well—even down to her birdleg-skinny fingers and wrists which she fiddled with the setting dials on the DSLR camera she kept secured to a strap about her neck. That she’d chosen any protein at all was probably only due to joining the Ultimate Team Manager so early; while he was busy psyching himself up for an attempt at something as simple as rice. It was really a wonder someone as huge and muscular as he was could stay such a shape with insides so prone to revolt, but he somehow did it and then bore it with the expected bundle of (shameless) grace.

With little fuss and no further observations, the Ultimate Imposter took the place across from the larger teenager and focused on the tabletop’s occupants. Ibuki, of course, stuck to his side like an electrifying tick and began chattering animatedly with Koizumi.

“G’ morning my big dapper daddy, an’ my beautisimous Anarchy Queen!” Teruteru’s exaggeratedly suave greeting piped over the conversation, dancing over to the table to unload two freshly-finished platters stacked with many single serving bowls as well as a multi-liter serving pot filled with steaming rice and savory miso, respectively. “More of th’ basics for y’all—the fancier stuff’ll be done in a minute!”

“I would prefer you not call me that,” the Imposter grumbled, his reprimand half-hearted at the appearance of hot starch within his reach. Ibuki clicked her chopsticks together rhythmically and grinned.

“I think it’s cute!”

“… The heir to the Togami family fortune is not… ‘cute’.”

“Alrighty, alrighty, be modest,” she giggled, then shot a dirty look over to Mahiru, and especially to her odd grimacing expression upon hearing the Musician’s praise. Of course the subject of the less-than-flattering reaction paid no mind to it, favoring an attack on the supply of calories in front of him. Shortly afterwards, the chef sauntered back in to deliver two more platters—one of strips of bonito grilled to perfection, and the other of onigiri with a stack of additional nori sheets in case anyone wanted more. As if awakened by the scent of more complex dishes, a notably bleary-looking Kazuichi stumbled in, followed by a far more collected Chiaki and Hiyoko (who seemed alert but still radiating an aura of salt—perhaps due to being too short of continue watching over the Ultimate Gamer’s shoulder on the way to breakfast).

“Hey,” Chiaki mumbled over the jingle of her game saving its progress, barely giving any of the others time to respond to her presence before she was scooping up a pair of onigiri and wolfing them down. Hiyoko’s nose crinkled up at the sight of seaweed and plucked up bonito and rice instead.

“Ack… where the hell’s the caffeine..?” Souda gestured vaguely towards Nekomaru, who grunted.

“Wouldn’t know. Tea’s over there, though.”

“Tea’s… caffeine, right?”

Nekomaru’s eyebrows twitched, “… is it?”

“Black tea, for sure—” Teruteru popped up again, flashing a fan of tea packets as if they were cash, “Pick one of these—they’re th’ quality stuff.”

“No coffee?” the Ultimate Mechanic whined, and the plump little chef suddenly seemed to go rigid with indignation.

“From that supermarket? That coffee?! The instant coffee?!” His slim arms wheeled as if smacking down the demons of low-effort cheapness, “I ain’t servin’ that dirt-flavored swill from my kitchen, in my dinin’ room, nowhere to do with me! You want one o’ those cups o’ mud, you get it yourself!”

“Ugh, man…”

“You could always try a very strongly brewed English Breakfast tea and then add some cinnamon to it,” a pleasant and poised voice enunciated from behind him, causing a cascade of instant changes to Souda’s posture and awakeness, “It is almost coffee-like, and will indeed wake you up.”

“Oh!” Kazuichi flashed an awkward grin, “I should try that, Miss Sonia! You’re so smart!”

“Hurry up and get a seat,” Hiyoko nudged the Princess, “Before Akane gets up and pigs up everything.”

“Oh, but I doubt Hanamura would ever let us starve.” Sonia said with a sweet, innocent-seeming smile as she perched beside the tiny dancer. Teruteru produced his comb from somewhere and began to preen himself, narrow chest puffing up. Souda growled under his breath, steeping his tea much more aggressively.

By the time the later-risers all trickled in—the dozy but ravening Akane coming in dead-last—the Ultimate Imposter placed down their newly emptied 7th bowl of rice and sighed. Thankfully, Mioda had not felt at all compelled to spill about the secret activities she’d witnessed, and was instead embroiled in a multi-party argument about what to do about the four islands they’d left unexplored—fearing what might be waiting there would be a lot less hospitable than on this initial “home base”.

“Couldn’t your ham—er, devas go and check that next island out and report back?” Hajime made the suggestion as mildly as he could to Gundham Tanaka, who sat broodily on the edge of the group, appearing to have all his attention taken up by feeding strips of nori and small pieces of celery to the tame rodents in question. The impression of aloofness was false; shooting the far plainer boy an indirect look, Tanaka lifted up Maga-Z in a scooped palmful.

“Indeed, they could. But reconnaissance as simple as this would be wasted on creatures of such power…”

“Um…” Mahiru gave the little hamster, sitting upright on Gundham’s hand and cleaning his whiskers, a mind-boggled stare, “Power… right…”

“They’re hamsters,” Hiyoko frowned, exasperated, “How would they be smart enough to even tell what they’d found if it wasn’t seeds of some other shitty rat-food?”

Gundham’s usual glare deepened: “Be thankful that my devas have already received their morning offerings!” He smirked, patting Jum-P on the head gently, “Mortals have become cursed for less…”

“They’re so well-trained, Hiyoko,” Sonia murmured to her, “Have you not seen them? Yesterday Gundham showed me how he could command them to get our frisbee back down from the roof! Do you remember it?”

“Yes…” Hiyoko pouted. She had a difficult time punching down when Sonia was around, since the Ultimate Princess never seemed fazed or to even remark upon the spite dripping from the dancer’s quips—always ready with a poised deflection that stopped the snide comments from pumping up her tiny ego as hoped.

“Hmph… On the bright side if the hamsters don’t come back we’ll know there’s something dangerous over there…” Souda muttered, “… or a hawk.”

“Shame on you!” Ibuki scolded, slapping the top of his hand with a half-eaten nori slip, “Have faith in our Ham-stars! We all know you’re jealous because she loves them cute little animals.”

“I am not jealous of rodents!”

“We know.” The Imposter said dryly. “We all know who you’re actually jealous of. For everyone’s benefit though, try not to wish harm on him either.”

“Erk…”

“Why don’cha just let me run over there and scope it out?” Akane interrupted while cracking her knuckles. “If I run into trouble I’ll just deck it.”

“No,” the Imposter shot the idea down right away, even faster than Nekomaru could make his objection, “No one should go anywhere unexplored alone… No, with no fewer than a group of three to be safe.” He set down his empty tea mug, “If any of us do end up going to the second island, I will insist on being part of that group.”

“Okay, but if there’s a fight waiting I wanna come too—” Akane retorted, “I can still deck it!”

“If anyone or anything needs their ass kicked, we gotta be there too,” the Ultimate Yakuza, taking up two chairs by propping up his crossed legs, volunteered along with Pekoyama’s confident nod. One glance at the most well-armed among them was enough to dissipate all potential argument.

“And that should only be necessary if Gundham doesn’t get anything conclusive, right?” Chiaki asked, a flicker of uncharacteristic concern flashing through her normally cool, unbothered eyes. Something about it seemed… suddenly too aware to him, and the Imposter watched her face as he gave a nod of confirmation.

“If Tanaka is willing to try,” he glanced towards the Ultimate Animal Breeder, careful to keep his eye contact on the hamsters instead of the human he addressed, “Are you up for sending them over the bridge?”

Gundham made a sharp series of clicks with his tongue and lowered one arm into a ramp up to his shoulders—the four creatures scampered up with military formation and adroitness, up into their concealed spaces: “They shall heed my orders posthaste! Each shall return from the forbidden lands with a portent of what lies there—good, or evil.”

“Amazing…” The Imposter almost jumped at the dull, spacey voice. He had almost forgotten Nagito was present. Hajime certainly had, as the most off-putting boy had decided to silently take up the seat right next to him without his knowledge. The amnesiac scooted strongly away, almost bracing himself against Fuyuhiko’s second chair as Komaeda let out a low chuckle.

“And Komaeda—I have something that you need to do as well.” The Imposter leaned in, snapping back into a more Byakuya-esque, demanding tone.

“Really?” His eyes sparkled, in the way that errant, housefire-inspiring sparks from a faulty radiator might, “Our leader has a task for the likes of me?”

“Yes. You’re going to stay a long way from anyone having anything to do with the exploration.”

“…Ah.”

“You know it’s safer that way.”

“Of course!” And Nagito recovered with a smile, “Well, I can just stick with Hajime. Heh, maybe we’ll get lucky and discover something we missed on this island.”

The Imposter was relieved. Nagito always seemed like there was a bit of a restless, almost mischievous nature buried under the lax, self-deprecating mannerisms; at the very least this way he had agreed to listen and would be chaperoned by a more trustworthy classmate. Though… glancing past Nagito and catching the exasperated flinch that briefly crossed poor Hajime’s face, he did feel briefly guilty for saddling the poor kid with this duty. Still—one of them being uncomfortable for a few hours was better than risking the Rube Goldberg’s Machine type of bodily harm to their whole group that was exponentially more likely the closer the Ultimate Luck approached…

The sun was cresting the top of the distant air control tower when the gathering of interested parties commenced. The soft, grassy areas on the side of the cracked, rutted paths of the Central Island leading up to the bridge was ideal to shelter from the approaching noon sun under palms and thick, flowering tropical shrubs. Teruteru had taken it upon himself to lug along a cooler full of fruit flavor popsicles and chilled canned drinks while enlisting the Imposter to carry his larger cooler of sandwiches he’d prepared (in case anyone got peckish while waiting).

The bridge loomed. While a cordoned-off area, the rope barring entry was such that, except at its low center, Hiyoko could have lightly ducked under it with no problem. Facing it now, the Imposter wondered if that perplexing rabbit character (robot?) that periodically barged in on them would really block off something truly dangerous with such a weak measure—either out of malice or plain incompetence. Those who’d opted to take this risk had all gathered: Himself, Fuyuhiko, Peko, Akane, and Mikan in the event injuries were sustained. They’d all clustered behind where Gundham was at work preparing his larger-than-life rodent companions for their recon mission. Sonia crouched close by, cooing her best wishes to the hamsters and unaware of how incredibly bashful it was making their keeper. Nekomaru and Mahiru sat in the shade not far from where Teruteru was fussing over his accommodations, ready to be back-up help should their classmates end up needing help.

“Wish the damn park had a bathroom…” the huge man grumbled, his tension not lost on the Ultimate Photographer even though his voice was casual. Mahiru cleared her throat a bit.

“Yeah… it’s a very bad public facilities policy.” She pushed a small baggie of toilet paper and sealable plastic bags from behind her, “I put this together in case of emergency. Honestly, if whoever owns or maintains this place didn’t want poop in the bushes, then they should’ve put in a little restroom building like most parks…”

“Whoa!” Nekomaru relaxed, “Geez, thanks for thinking ahead! It’s been a while since someone did somethin’ like that.”

“No problem,” Mahiru sat up, properly folding her hands over her bent knees, “There’s no excuse for no public restroom. Someone has to plan for this kind of thing… and honestly, f… fuck ‘em for not planning well.”

As Nekomaru’s jovial cackles faded into echoes, Gundham whispered a few final commands down to his Four Dark Devas of Destruction’s ears—each now equipped with a tiny bandolier of sunflower seeds, small nails and a hairpin like teeny pitons and lockpicking devices. The lineup of attentive hamsters broke their formation and took to the bridge, hopping easily over to gaps in the wood and metal beams. The Ultimate Breeder stood and faced the waiting group:

“My Devas shall return on the next hour—earlier if they encounter a truly terrible opponent.”

It was really only a matter of time: Sonia and Gundham waited right by the end of the bridge for signs of the clever hamsters’ return, occasionally chatting back and forth but both remaining quite serious. As the sun inched higher, Mikan with a flustered authority ordered a set of the popsicles be passed around—each according to their preferred flavor—to keep hydrated and cool. Despite some backchat from Fuyuhiko before he ultimately settled for the sourest flavor, everyone had a pleasant moment to blow off the heat and stress while seated in the palm shade.

It was when Gundham jolted into a ramrod-straight posture that anyone knew his dutiful scouts had completed their mission; San-D, thirsty from the long run back, had grabbed at his half-finished lemon popsicle and began licking at it with great ferocity. At the round rodent’s feet was a grubby receipt, crumpled and punctured in a few places by hamster fangs.

“Aha!” Gundham scooped up the hamster, popsicle and all, into both hands, “Supernova Silver Fox San-D! You have returned with nary a scratch! I implore you—show us your spoils!”

San-D finished melting a few more licks of the sugary treat first, but did indeed follow the command given. The little hamster grabbed up the old receipt and with both paws stretched it out so that much of it could be read easily by “mortal eyes”.

“I’m not sure… I can fully read the runes here,” Sonia said awkwardly. Peko leaned over, instantly groaning at the tremendous mundanity of the paper’s contents.

“It’s a receipt from a diner, I think,” she said with two fingers over the bridge of her nose, “Not mainstream, more likely a family restaurant or something.”

“San-D must’ve been hungry!” Sonia cooed, petting the smooth fur while the hamster posed in pride, “Now at least we know there’s a source of food over there!”

“I think I see another,” the Imposter said mid-squint, and the tan-and-white form hopping over the bridge’s gaps grew larger. Maga-Z, followed a minute later by Jum-P, came up to Gundham with pieces of paperwork clenched in their teeth, only slightly punctured.

“What’s it say?” Fuyuhiko poked over the Ultimate Breeder’s shoulder, who shushed and thrust out an arm for space. After a few moments of anticipation, Gundham turned to the group and held out the two raggedy papers as if antique curse scrolls.

“Maga-Z has recovered this from the far southern point of that island,” he explained, “And Jum-P has traveled from the northern-central area to bring us this—if I may say so immediately, it is clearly a script given along with a prescription medicine.”

“There must be a pharmaceutical facility over there to have that,” Mikan wavered. “P-probably a more populated island?”

“Maybe not so populated now…” Akane growled, “With the state of the hotel and especially the airport. And with that farm and market on our island, what’re the odds no one in the past week wanted fresh eggs or gummy candy at least? What that stupid rabbit thing said is just getting creepier and creepier…”

“If it turns out there is anyone else on these islands, I highly doubt any would be too bothered by these… barriers,” the Imposter frowned, “especially on such small islands. It could be the only market like ours is here, and the only pharmacy on this second island. I think it’s now safe to assume that this Usami character is right. We are the only people here, for better or worse.”

Gundham plucked up the other paper from the hamster’s little paws, though it was really more of a piece of cardstock. He looked confused, and passed it to Sonia, who gasped.

“Oh, it is, ah… not a ‘library card’, but, um…” She peered back over to Mahiru and Mikan who were studying it over her shoulders, “…what are these things called? The cards you get in the books at libraries?”

“U-uh…” Mikan thought about it, blanking hard on any sort of consistent name for the things.

“I’m not sure they have a name,” Koizumi frowned, “but we know what you’re talking about. Does it have a date stamp on it?”

“No, it is blank,” Sonia looked down. “But Maga-Z must have found a library! Where else would he get an unused card like this?”

“A pharmacy, a restaurant, and a library…” Pekoyama mused, “It almost seems as if each new island is outfitted with a few different facilities. I’m not sure I like how empty is all is in light of that.”

“Well—yeah, that makes it all even more weird as fuck,” Fuyuhiko crossed his arms, “Either these ain’t the real Jabberwock Islands and fake setups with nobody ever being here before us… Or somethin’ happened to the population to make it zero.”

“Indeed…” Gundham narrowed his eyes, “That rabbit… such creatures’ capacity for violence and aggression is commonly underestimated. The Bunny is, in reality, one of Nature’s most vicious beasts…”

“U-um… speaking of things that aren’t here…” Mikan peeped through the others’ speculations with her fingers linking and fidgeting together, “Don’t you have a f-fourth hamster..?”

“Ah,” Gundham stared long and hard back across the bridge, towards the large outline of an imposing building which stood tall enough to form part of the island’s horizon, “Invading Black Dragon Cham-P I sent specifically to seek out that foreboding fortress visible even from here. His divine intellect is most suited to that task…” He tweaked his scarf slightly, menacing aura faltering a bit, “… though he, um, is not a creature to be hurried.”

This was no understatement. Minutes rolled on, with Tanaka anxiously cradling the other three devas in the folds of his scarf, until Akane gave a shout that she could see a chubby, round, golden-brown ball ambling towards them. When the hamster finally made it to his master, everyone noticed right away that Cham-P lacked any kind of paper scraps or other recovered objects. As the critter entered the circle of confused observers, he went rigid and stood up on his hind legs, as if waiting for attention.

“What’s it… doing?” Mahiru said. The Imposter, however, was not perplexed for long as the small animal began to scratch and scrape at the sandy ground—watching as defined markings began to appear. Cham-P finally scuttled back from his work with a few proud wiggles of his fat cheeks.

“It says ‘mirai’,” Togami’s voice declared, earning a surprised gasp from Mikan and a few hums of understanding from the others gathered around, “just like the name of the hotel.”

“…Does that mean there’s another hotel over there?” Nekomaru wondered, but the Imposter shook his head.

“I doubt it. It’s more likely that the Future theme is a name in common across multiple institutions on these islands…” Even as they heard the words leave their mouth something about it gave him a shudder; he shelved the thought for when he was not surrounded by the others.

“Oh… like how things keep gettin’ called ‘Jabberwock’ here!” Akane pieced together, prompting Fuyuhiko to give the ground an annoyed scuff.

“Island’s called that,” he groused, “fuckin’ idiot…”

“It does not appear Cham-P was able to enter that ominous building,” Sonia said while tickling his cheeks, “But also, none of them ran into any trouble. Perhaps the next island is truly empty except for buildings.”

“It should be safe to explore in our group then,” Peko nodded, “so long as we take it slowly and look out for each other.”

“Try to keep out of the way of that rabbit thing as well. I wouldn’t doubt she may try to hold us up if she has different ideas for our time here…” The Imposter added, straightening up and squaring his stance. “Tanaka, Nevermind—let the others know what we’ve found out. And let everyone know we’re on our way to the second island.”

Understanding the commands, the hamsters took off towards the hotel first after giving a series of tiny salutes. Surprised for a second, Gundham fell into stride behind them, with Sonia joyfully following in the part hominid, part rodent parade. He adjusted Byakuya’s glasses on his nose, giving himself a moment to comprehend that the Ultimate Breeder’s pets themselves comprehended human language (much less would opt to obey an order from someone who wasn’t Tanaka). Snapping out of it, he strode to lead the group towards the bridge and gripped the loose cord barring passage—

“Here, let me—”

SNAP!

“—get that… off there… for you…?” Akane trailed off into bewildered silence, ogling the chunky fist clenched around the snapped-off bracket.

“That won’t be necessary,” he brushed her off, tossing aside the coil of rope along with the busted metal ring which had secured it in place against the bridge’s railing. “Let’s go—follow me.”

3 notes · View notes