In the dead of night, after everyone has drifted off, Kirigiri and I are sitting in the hallway outside the dorms, pulling guard duty. Keeping watch all alone with my favorite character—how could my heart not race?
Of course, it would be a lot more romantic if we weren't stuck in a kill-or-be-killed game and actually had to watch for anyone sneaking around.
Yaaawn…
All those all-nighters playing games had me convinced I could stay awake no problem, but I miscalculated. After today's nonstop tension, drowsiness is crashing over me.
"Hey… I'm bored. Want to chat for a bit?"
I speak up to keep myself awake. It's purely for vigilance—absolutely no ulterior motive. None. At all.
"….."
Kirigiri keeps her eyes fixed on the far end of the hallway and answers with perfect indifference. A minute ago she was staring holes through me; now it's ice-cold apathy. Hard to read, this one.
Then again, we only met a short while ago, so awkwardness is natural. Guard duty won't end tonight; we've got time to get closer… eventually.
"…Your name was K, right?"
"Ah, yeah! That's me—K!"
Kirigiri-sama actually said my name! Sure, it isn't the name I used back home, but I'm in Danganronpa now, so K is me.
While I'm grinning like an idiot at the thought, she suddenly leans in, brings her face right up to mine, and locks eyes with me.
What is happening? What does this mean? My brain flat-lines. Just as wild fantasies start sprouting on the empty screen of my mind, she whispers:
"You're hiding something, aren't you?"
I bite down hard and force my brain back online. Am I hiding something? I'm hiding a metric ton.
But can I really say, "Actually, I know the future. I come from another world where your whole class stars in a murder-mystery video game"? They'd label me insane on the spot.
"Uh… not really… nothing to hide…"
The words come out in a tone so fake even I cringe. Kirigiri's eyes turn frosty, and she snaps her head away.
"I have no intention of working with someone suspicious who won't come clean."
With that, she goes silent. My heart twists, but hey—being "suspicious" is still better than "certifiably crazy."
Still… isn't Monokuma Theater supposed to show up now? In the game it always played when we slept.
In the end I ran a private rerun of Monokuma Theater in my head until the shift ended. When exactly am I supposed to sleep? Looks like cat-naps will have to do for a while.
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The last few days have been busy. First priority: earn the kids' trust. I've been making the rounds and talking to them whenever I can.
A lifetime as a social outcast had every cell in my body screaming, but survival's on the line. I clenched my teeth and forced myself to socialize.
I tried chatting baseball with Kuwata Leon, but—as expected—he hates talking baseball. He confessed he really wants to be a punk-rock singer. I honestly wanted to smack him, but I kept a straight face, heard him out, and suddenly he grabbed my hands, shaking them, thanking me for listening.
He said I'm the only one who understands someone blessed with the Ultimate Baseball Star's talent yet unmoved by the sport. I brushed it off with a "no big deal" and moved on.
Hagakure kept sighing everywhere he went, so I asked what was wrong. His eyes lit up, he whipped out a shady contract, and begged me, hands clasped, to sign in his stead.
Before I knew it, I'd signed. He beamed, promised to read my fortune for free forever, and wandered off. If one signature buys friendship, fair trade.
With Celeste, I volunteered to fetch her milk tea on demand. Friendship? …If you squint.
Talking with Fujisaki was easier; smaller than me, just as timid. We mostly discussed computers. As a humanities major, I barely understood a word, but Fujisaki looked happy, so I let it roll.
Wondering how to befriend Asahina, I showed her a tube doughnut I'd pulled from a Monokuma Medal gacha. She stared, drooling. I handed it over; she inhaled it and, eyes sparkling, asked if I had more. Looks like the price of her friendship is an endless supply of tube doughnuts.
I thought Yamada and I would click, but this world lacks the anime from my reality. Then it hit me: I could just invent one. I spun him a tweaked synopsis of a hit series from home; Yamada, deeply moved, declared he wanted me as his mentor. Sweat-inducing, but hey—friendship achieved.
Ishimaru kept talking to me even without effort on my part. One day he found me nodding off in the cafeteria and tried to "train the laziness out of me." I explained I was exhausted from night watch; he muttered to himself, then begged me to punch him for ignoring a classmate's suffering. I freaked out and told him to cut the drama.
He did offer to take a night shift with me, which was nice. I declined—I wanted alone-time with Kirigiri—and Ishimaru looked at me with eyes shining with gratitude. A bit much, but friendship secured.
Naegi arrived with a handheld game console as a gift and opened conversation himself—protagonist privilege. I casually asked what he'd do if someone wanted to swap rooms. After thinking it over, he said it would depend on the reason. I told him, flat out, never to swap, outlining the dangers in detail. He seemed convinced. Good—may common sense rain freebies on him.
I still haven't bonded with Maizono, Togami, Owada, Fukawa, Oogami, or Ikusaba. Partly because I'm wary of them, mostly because I'm dead tired.
Guard duty drains me; I catch sleep in five-minute scraps, then wake up to another shift. Feels like my lifespan's shrinking. Kirigiri, for some reason, pulls the same hours and looks perfectly fine. As expected of Kirigiri-sama.
Since that night, Kirigiri hasn't said a word to me. When it's time for patrol, she silently appears, glances my way, then sits far down the hall, passing the hours alone.
It's crushing, but someday we'll be friends. Probably?
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Ding-dong dang-dong!
As the 7 a.m. Monokuma broadcast chimed, I was wondering whose trust to farm today when Ishimaru came looking for me.
"Good morning, K!"
"Ishimaru? What's up?"
In typical grandiose fashion he laid out his reason: starting today, right after wake-up time, everyone is to eat breakfast together. I'm to head to the dining hall immediately.
He marched off to inform the others.
All right… today's the day.
Once the whole class gathers in the dining hall, Monokuma will hand out those motive videos.
The surest way to stop them is to smash every DVD and playback device.
But Junko Enoshima isn't stupid; she'll have spares. If we wreck everything in the AV room, we'll only put her on alert.
Which leaves me one option: convince the others not to watch the DVDs of their own free will.
Can I persuade all sixteen of them? I don't know—but I've been grinding trust for this very moment. Surely the heavens have noticed my effort.
I drew a deep breath, set my face, and headed for the dining hall.