Chapter Text
“There was only one person who could’ve killed Junko Enoshima,” Kyoko said firmly, referring to the dead body in the gardens.
She pointed a gloved finger across from her and to the right. “It was you, wasn’t it, Makoto Naegi?”
Makoto’s face drained of all color, and Kyoko felt her heart pound wildly in her chest. Prove me wrong, Makoto .
“ No !” Makoto cried. “That’s wrong! You’ve got it all wrong!”
“I had no access to my room, and therefore no access to the dojo locker key,” Kyoko said. And while that wasn’t true (she had a skeleton key) she hadn’t told anyone about it. Not even Makoto.
And since Kyoko hadn’t killed Junko, it had to have been the only other person without an alibi.
“I-I didn’t!” Makoto stammered. “I could never kill anyone!”
She wanted to believe him. She wanted that more than she wanted to leave the school.
“It’s beginning to look like you did,” Byakuya said loudly.
“I-!” Makoto began, but he stopped.
“I killed her,” Makoto agonized.
The room was silent. “I was… sick…” he whispered, but the entire room hung onto his words like they were gospel. “I was so sick, but I saw someone with a mask trying to attack me. I-I don’t really k-know what happened,” he mumbled. “But I knew I killed her. I planted evidence to make it look like Kyoko did it. I… I didn’t mean to kill her, but it happened so quickly…”
“Well,” a happy voice cut in. “Are we ready to vote?”
“Not yet!” Makoto wailed. “No, please!”
Kyoko felt cold. She felt sick. Makoto, the only person who she truly trusted in this game, was going to be killed.
“Cast your votes!” Monokuma trilled. “Will you make the right choice, or the dreadfully wrong one?”
Kyoko felt like she couldn’t move. Her hands weren’t moving when she wanted them to. She forced herself to pull the lever to cast the vote.
“Well!” Monokuma grinned. “It seems you got the right answer! Makoto Naegi killed Junko Enoshima!”
Makoto was crying now. “I didn’t mean to!” He wailed, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I was so sick!”
“That was the motive!” Monokuma said happily. “You were all going to get sick until someone killed someone else!”
“W-what?” Makoto said, wide eyed.
“There was poison in the water. Personally, I’m surprised Maky-bo was the only one to get sick.”
Makoto visibly flinched at the nickname and Kyoko was beginning to feel sick herself.
“Well, let’s give it everything we’ve got! It’s punishment time!”
“ No !” Makoto screamed.
“No more dilly dallying!” Monokuma said loudly, pulling out his gavel, smacking it against the large red button.
The metal collar snapped out from its hiding place, clasping tightly against Makoto’s neck. “Wait-!” He said. “Let me walk. Please.”
Monokuma laughed, but Makoto walked beside him, towards the empty chamber where 4 - now to be 5 - of her friends had died.
Makoto was sitting on a chair attached to a treadmill. At first, Kyoko couldn’t see what would be the thing to kill her friend - but a loud boom interrupted her thoughts.
At the end of the treadmill, there was something slamming down with immense force. It seemed Makoto had noticed it as well, flinching noticeably. He couldn’t turn his head to look. Time both slowed and sped up as Kyoko watched Makoto.
His face was flushed, covered in sweat, a manic smile on his face. She wondered why. Was he happy that it would be over?
He mumbled something Kyoko couldn’t hear and laughed loudly.
“Is he insane?” Togami muttered loudly, a crease in his brow.
“M-Mukuro-tan!” He cackled, wrenching his hands to his cheeks and cupping his face. His smile was wide, tongue slightly protruding from his mouth. “Mukuro!”
A pang shot through Kyoko’s heart. He was about to be killed and he was thinking of someone else? It wasn’t like they were dating, or even talking, but she thought they had something special.
“Ikusaba?” Toko muttered. “S-she’s dead.”
The manic laughter continued for a moment, Makoto panting heavily. “Mu-Mukuro!”
Kyoko closed her eyes. There was a final boom, echoing through the entire room.
It wasn’t like he had known Ikusaba for long , Kyoko thought as she sat on her bed hours later, removing her shoes.
His girlfriend? That was what Monokuma said.
Why was he calling her name? When did they ever start dating? They had only known each other for a few weeks! It wasn’t like she could ask him, she thought macabrely.
And of all of their dead friends, Mukuro Ikusaba wasn’t the one who Kyoko would assume Makoto was the closest to. She would guess that would be Maizono. Why would he be saying Ikusaba’s name?
It was fairly puzzling. Makoto had talked to Mukuro a few times. But he spent more time with Sayaka and Kyoko herself. Why Mukuro?
The thought unnerved her.
-
“Monokuma!” Kyoko called to the camera. All surviving students sat in the dining hall, clearly melancholy.
“Howdy!” Monokuma said, popping out. Kyoko jumped.
“Can I ask you something about the last trial?”
“Of course!” Monokuma said, hiding his face in his hands.
Determined smiles flashed throughout the room. Although none of them had mentioned when they would bring up the fishiness of the last trial, they all knew that it would eventually happen. It was what Makoto would have wanted.
“I was just reviewing everything about the case,” Kyoko said conversationally, “And I noticed that on her student file, it said Junko Enoshima had no scars when she arrived at Hope’s Peak. But during my autopsy and in the Monokuma file, I noticed that she had many scars that looked ‘rather old.’”
Monokuma didn’t react. “And?”
“Are you sure that Makoto-kun was the cause of death?”
Monokuma clapped his paws excitedly. “You are a very clever girl, Kyoko Kirigiri~!”
Kyoko didn’t like being praised by the bear. There was only one person who she would be okay saying that, and he was dead.
“Alrighty, ladies and gents!” Monokuma said loudly. “How about we have one final trial?”
The shock in the room was palpable. “How’s about it? You figure out the mysteries of the school and get to leave, each and every one of you.” Monokuma gestured his paw all about the room. “But if you don’t, you all agree to a very fitting punishment!”
“You’re kidding?” Hina said loudly. “We can leave if we figure everything out?”
“How’s about it?” Monokuma said again, extending his paw for a handshake. “I’ll unlock every door in the building for the sake of the investigation!”
Kyoko looked at all of her peers. They nodded. They hadn’t gotten an investigation wrong yet.
Kyoko took the bear’s paw, and for a moment, it felt like she was selling her soul. “Alrighty! The doors are all unlocked! And a reminder, all of the secrets of the school!”
“Alright,” Byakuya said, voice full of authority. “Let’s split up, check the locked rooms first. We don’t know if he’ll go back on his word.”
Kyoko half expected Monokuma to come back and whine about being questioned, but he didn’t.
Everyone walked out of the dining hall, and Kyoko immediately made her way to the 2nd floor dorms.
-
Makoto was shivering. Either it was a remnant of his fever or it was the delicious despair of not knowing if he was going to die.
Would Mukuro swoop in at the last second? It wasn’t like the two of them had talked about any… environmental hazards of being involved in the Killing Game.
His untied hands fumbled with his knees for a second. Boom. Boom .
He felt his breathing get heavy, unsteady, the potent fear and despair flooding his veins exactly the kind of high Junko must have been chasing.
“The Despair ,” he mumbled, before he burst into laughter. “It feels…!”
“M-Mukuro-tan!” Makoto babbled, bringing his hands to his cheeks and cupping his face. He squeezed lightly, beginning to feel drool from his mouth. He stuck out his tongue slightly, and he didn’t know if it was intentional or not. “Mukuro!”
What was he trying to tell her? Save me or let me die this delicious death ? He couldn’t decide which was more exciting.
“Mu-Mukuro!” Makoto panted, the tent in his pants becoming fairly obvious - if it wasn’t for the desk in the way. And besides, no one would be looking at his pants anyway. If they were, that would just be so embarrassing. So Despair inducing!
He was expecting to feel the crunch of his bones, but when he closed his eyes in preparation for the squishing to come - nothing.
The arm around his shoulders was tight, grabbing him desperately. Mukuro …
“Mukuro-sama,” Makoto revered as he dug his face into the crook of her neck. She smelled exactly as he remembered when they parted all those weeks ago; slightly of laundry soap and earthy shampoo. “I’ve never felt something so… despair inducing!” He breathed, sucking lightly on her collarbone. She let out a breathy gasp - exactly as he remembered her sounding.
“I wasn’t sure if you would let me die or save me,” Makoto said, now turning his attention to her face. He would count her freckles if she let him. Her eyes looked lavender in the lighting, and he tilted her chin into a kiss.
It was not slow or romantic. It was heady, hurried and hot.
“Mako-kun,” she whispered when they broke apart. “W-We should get back to controlling Monokuma.”
Makoto pouted, although he knew she was right, and the two of them made their way to the Data Processing Room. As soon as the door opened, Makoto looked at the cameras.
The students were surrounding the slumped form of Monokuma, and Makoto sighed, stepping into the control room and saying in a cheerful tone, “Why are you guys looking at me like that? It’s un bear able!”
All of them jumped, and then Hiro said, “You were just… gone for a few minutes.”
“You think I wasn’t aware of that?” Makoto sighed. “Had to clean up Makoto’s mess.”
The entire room stiffened. “D-did you really p-poison him?” Toko asked nervously.
“Of course!” Makoto giggled. Mukuro was so smart like that. He gestured for her to come closer and pointed to his aching erection. Will you take care of me ? The look he shot her asked.
Of course she would. She nodded.
“That fever of his was so bad, he didn’t even seem coherent.”
It felt strange to talk in third person, but when he felt Mukuro’s lips wrap around his cock, it didn’t seem like such a big deal. Oh, the despair written on all of their faces, even Kyoko’s iron mask.
“Did you see the despair he was in before his execution?” Makoto panted. “Oh, it was absolutely lovely. Calling for his dead girlfriend…”
Mukuro wasn’t actually dead. Her warm tongue doing wonders would prove that in a second, but the surviving students all thought she was. Junko stood in for her Ultimate Soldier twin.
Kyoko looked a little shocked. Makoto scoffed. “What’s wrong? Didn’t think that Naegi-kun had a love life? He may have been a pathetic loser, but the girls did like him!”
“D-don’t talk about Mako-chi that way!” Hina said loudly, pointing a finger towards Monokuma, tears in her eyes.
The sight warmed his heart a little. Hina was defending him so vehemently. He could already imagine her despair when it was revealed he was behind it the whole time. The thought made his whole body shudder, and climax took him by surprise.
A low whine escaped his throat. Monokuma must’ve whined as well, but Makoto played it off.
“ Fineeee ,” he dragged out. “It’s wrong to speak about people that way, I suppose.”
Monokuma disappeared from the courtroom with the push of a button, and Makoto looked at Mukuro on her knees in front of him. She looked beautiful, and she opened her mouth widely, showing her extended tongue covered in cum.
“I love you, Mukuro-sama,” he said as he helped her to her feet. “You mean everything to me.”
Mukuro swallowed noticeably, a shudder going through Makoto’s entire body at the motion. “I love you too, Makoto.”
“What an exciting day!” Makoto sighed as he exited the control room and watched the students return to their rooms on the monitors. “How very exciting!”
Each and every one of their faces looked incredibly sad. So full of despair! It was a delicious expression. Were they sad that they lost their beacon, their hopeful little Makoto Naegi?
How ironic that was. Hopeful and Makoto hadn’t belonged in the same sentence for many years.
He looked closely at Kyoko’s face. She was thinking, obviously, the expression on her face exactly what it looked like during their class trials.
How he wanted to see more despair slip from behind that iron mask of hers.
-
Kyoko’s hands shook.
“You’re all in this against me!” Hina yelled, pointing to the photo on her podium. “I never remembered taking this photo!”
“Listen,” Kyoko frowned. “Each of us got a different photo with one person missing - themselves. Why would that be?”
“The Mastermind is trying to trick us,” Byakuya filled in helpfully.
“Wha - why would I do that?” Monokuma giggled. “I would never try to trick you! Those pictures are very real, I assure you!”
Kyoko’s head was aching. “Wait!” She shouted, pulling out the fried data card in her pocket. “Have we… got amnesia?”
Monokuma’s grin widened minutely. “And why would you say that, Kyoko?”
“This video,” she said, holding up the card. “I saw M-Makoto, Junko, and Sayaka agree to spend their lives here.”
“Well, maybe they did, man,” Hiro said. “It’s not like they can tell us.”
“I see a flaw in your logic, Hagakure,” Byakuya said. “Maizono was so desperate to get out of here that she tried to kill Kuwata. If she agreed to live here and remembered it, why would she have reacted so violently to the motive video?”
Kyoko didn’t like Byakuya, but he was smart. “And I saw you on the video as well, Togami. I’m sure you don’t recall talking to the headmaster and agreeing to live your life here, do you?”
Byakuya stumbled back. “No, I don’t.”
“It was a legitimate video!” Monokuma cut in. “I haven’t forged anything yet!”
“So we have a-amnesia, then?” Toko cut in.
“Yep!” Monokuma giggled. “2 years of your life at Hope’s Peak, gone! One mystery down, my friends!”
“And I’d like to know why there are only 9 lights on in the Morgue,” Kyoko questioned. “There should be 11. Sayaka, Mukuro, Leon, Chihiro, Mondo, Hifumi, Taka, Celeste, Sakura, Junko, and M-Makoto.”
“Hmm,” Monokuma said loudly. “I wonder why that is?”
“Are the missing 2 in a different room?” Hina asked.
“Makoto’s execution involved squishing, you know? And Mondo was completely liquid,” Monokuma cackled. “Don’t really need to put them in a morgue.”
“Enough!” Byakuya snapped.
“Or…” Kyoko mused. “Could someone have been killed twice?”
It had been a suspicion ever since she’d seen the fading black mark on Junko’s dead hand and examined the scars on her body.
Monokuma stumbled, like he hadn’t expected that response. “W-what are you talking about?” He laughed. “That’s just… ridiculous!”
“Don’t you think that Junko Enoshima’s wounds match very well to Mukuro Ikusaba’s death?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Monokuma grumbled.
“Mukuro was killed with spears. You said yourself that Junko’s body had multiple scars that looked rather old. A few weeks old, maybe, shaped in the same shape of the spears that killed Mukuro?” Kyoko proposed with a smirk.
“Wow, Kyoko!” Hina beamed. “What a good observation!”
“AND during my exam of Junko’s body, I noticed a fading black mark on her right hand, exactly in the spot where Mukuro’s Fenrir tattoo was.”
“S-so what!” Monokuma asked with a frown.
“I propose that Mukuro Ikusaba faked her death. I propose that Mukuro Ikusaba is alive right now, our Mastermind!”
Byakuya looked impressed.
“Is that your final answer?” Monokuma asked. “ Mukuro is the Mastermind?”
Hiro gasped. “Did Makoto know that Mukuro was the Mastermind? Is that what he was trying to tell us? Is that why he was calling her name?”
Kyoko nodded, the slight ache in her heart abating. Makoto was just trying to help. “You killed Makoto for a murder he didn’t commit, Monokuma. Isn’t that against your rules?”
“Who ever said that I killed him?”
All of them flinched, but Kyoko felt her heart flutter hopefully.
“Makoto is still alive, then?” Byakuya asked. She could see his eyes sparkle.
“You know, I don’t see the point in lying!” Monokuma said. “Makoto is alive.”
“W-where?” Toko asked hopefully.
“If you’re so convinced that Mukuro is the Mastermind, why don’t you ask her?” Monokuma said with a giggle.
“Mukuro!” Byakuya said firmly. “This party's over. Come out.”
The lights flickered, and Kyoko coughed. The room was smoky, hard to see, especially in the low light.
When the lights turned back on, in Monokuma’s place sat Mukuro Ikusaba, the real Mukuro Ikusaba. Her eyes were more narrow and pointed than Junko’s, lavender rather than blue. Mukuro’s black hair was cut short and a dusting of freckles fell across her nose. On her hand, there was a tattoo, the symbol of Fenrir.
“Surprise,” Mukuro said. “Mukuro Ikusaba, Ultimate Despair.”
The shock was written across all of their faces, but Byakuya was the first to break out of his stupor. “Why did Junko take your place?” He asked.
“Junko and I were twins, and along with that, the Ultimate Despair.”
“Y-you killed your own sister?” Toko stammered, obviously aghast.
“It was horrible,” Mukuro frowned, and Kyoko could see her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
“Why?” Hiro asked. “Why kill your sister?”
Mukuro opened her mouth, looking like she was going to speak, but Monokuma sprang from his place on the ground. “Don’t answer that, Mukuro!” Monokuma hissed.
“H-huh?” Hina asked, bewildered. “If you’re here,” she gestured towards Mukuro, “who is controlling him? Someone’s gotta be in that control room!”
“Why don’t you figure that out?” Monokuma chuckled, and Kyoko felt her heart sink. She could only think of one person. Her father was dead, and Monokuma had confirmed earlier…
“Makoto,” Kyoko said coldly. “You’re the Mastermind.”
Surprised gasps rang from throughout the room, and Monokuma burst into giggles. “See, this is why I like you, Kyoko!”
The room was dark again, and when she opened her eyes, Makoto was standing in his old spot, a cruel grin on his face.
His style had drastically changed since the last time she’d seen him - his hoodie was red, Monokuma’s face on the back, with ears on the top. His blazer was black and white.
“Howdy!” He chirped as he sauntered over to Mukuro, standing in front of her with a smile.
She was taller than him and still able to see over his head.
“That’s right! I’m the Mastermind behind this whole little Killing Game!” Makoto laughed loudly.
“Why?” Hina said loudly, tears streaming down her face. “Why would you do this, I thought we were friends!”
Makoto frowned, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet. “We were friends. That’s exactly why I’m doing this.”
“I don’t understand!” Hiro shouted.
“Of course you wouldn’t, you idiot!” Makoto screamed, the whole room flinching.
“Despair,” Mukuro said loudly. “Just Despair.”
Makoto’s eyes went a little foggy, and he grasped his cheek. “That’s all,” he sighed, his face flushed red. “Despair.”
“I thought…” Kyoko began, but Makoto plowed right through as if he hadn’t heard her.
“Is there anything more despair-inducing than watching your best friends kill each other?” Makoto giggled, hands tangling in his messy brown hair. “It was… delicious .”
“You’re just a creep!” Hiro accused.
“Maybe,” Makoto shrugged. “I may be a creep about Despair.”
“I don’t want to h-hear about your weird d-despair fetish!” Toko cried.
“Why are you following him, Mukuro?” Kyoko asked.
“Because I love him,” she said.
“I love you too, Mukuro!” Makoto laughed, hands in his pockets. Kyoko saw what was going to happen the second before it did.
Quicker than she had ever seen Makoto move, his chest was pressed up against Mukuro’s. In his hand, the handle of a blade, the other half completely submerged into Mukuro’s chest.
“Shh,” he whispered, touching her face with his other hand, blood already on his fingertips.
Mukuro was looking at him, shock written on every line in her face.
“I love you, Mukuro,” Makoto said as he twisted the handle of his blade. Mukuro choked.
“I - Y-you…” Mukuro gasped.
“I know,” Makoto said as he pulled out the blade. “Sorry.”
Mukuro stumbled to the floor, and Makoto followed, slicing cleanly across Mukuro’s neck. “I’m sorry, my love.”
“What the hell?” Byakuya said, and Makoto turned to him, clear anger glazing his face.
“Will you just shut the fuck up for ONCE in your life, Byakuya Togami?” Makoto snarled as he threw the blade towards Togami.
Byakuya ducked out of the way, and the bloody knife embedded itself in the wall. Toko gasped.
Kyoko hadn’t realized her expression until Makoto turned to her.
“Kyoko,” he groaned. “Oh, look at the despair written on your face! I’ve gotten through that iron mask of your’s!”
Kyoko had to wrench her expression back into neutrality.
“Oh? You can’t hide it from me anymore~!” Makoto trilled. “You’re so full of despair that it’s me, aren’t you, Kyoko-sama!”
She didn’t want to look at his face, but as soon as she did, she realized how much of a mistake it was. He was flushed red, panting. The obvious desire on his face made her shudder with disgust.
“You’re just a nasty pervert, aren’t you, Makoto?” Toko said loudly. No stutter.
“You could say that,” Makoto shrugged, wiping his bloody hands on his blazer.
“Why did you kill her?” Hina asked. Kyoko didn’t have to wonder who; her blood was still all over Naegi.
“Because I loved her. That’s all.”
“And what about Enoshima?” Byakuya asked. “Why’d you kill her?”
Makoto’s expression darkened. The look on his face scared Kyoko. Just a little.
“Because I know Junko Enoshima,” Makoto hissed. “I know for a fact that both Mukuro and I would be dead at this point - Junko doesn’t like teammates. When I became the Ultimate Despair along with those two, I already knew what Junko was planning to do. I tried to stop her the only way I knew how - follow along.”
“Ever persuasive, Mukuro and I asked Junko to be involved in the game,” Makoto hugged his body. “Rather than just a spectator, we told Junko that playing would be much more fun. And when I finally had an excuse to off Junko? You better believe I’d take it.”
“And you reused her body? That’s sick, man,” Hiro said, disgust clear in his voice.
“I needed an excuse to get rid of Kyoko.” The room was silent. “But when I saw the suspicion fall on me, I took my chance. The water really had been poisoned, you know. I play by the rules. And either I would get out of the game safely, or die a beautiful, despair-filled death.”
“You’re sick,” Hina scowled. “I can’t believe I admired you. I can’t believe I looked up to you like a leader.”
“Hey, not my fault! You looked up to me ,” the smile on Makoto’s face sent shivers up Kyoko’s spine. “When I started dating Mukuro, Junko…”
Makoto went silent. And then he giggled softly. “It doesn’t matter. But she introduced me to how beautifully wonderful despair was, how I’d always been an Average in a school of Ultimates, how I was always the last pick. She introduced me to the fact that she’d always be superior, that I would always be less talented than my sister, Komaru...”
Makoto went quiet again. He spoke a few seconds later. “I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. As soon as I heard about Junko’s plans, it was a done deal for me. I can’t go back, but it was… nice… to pretend with you guys for a little while.”
“Were you?” Toko asked. “P-pretending, I mean?”
Makoto laughed. It was an earnest sound. It sounded like the boy Kyoko fell in love with. “Nah. I wasn’t. I just lived in a world without Junko and Mukuro and the responsibilities of being the Ultimate Despair.”
And then he was crying, dropping to his knees in a pool of blood. “H-how sick is that?” He chuckled. “That I w-was only h-happy during the time when a-all my friends were b-being killed.”
“It’s not too late,” Hina mumbled. Kyoko almost couldn’t hear her, but she saw Makoto’s head jerk up.
“Yeah,” he sniffled. “It i-is.”
He reached into his blazer. “Here,” he said, tossing something rectangular towards Kyoko. She caught it.
It was a button. Red, covered in glass.
“It’s for the door,” Makoto sniveled.
“Y-you’re just giving that to us?” Hina said.
“Yeah. Just… don’t be too mad about the outside world when you get out. I couldn’t do anything about it, either.”
“What did Junko do to you?” Kyoko asked finally. The sight of him on the floor in a pool of blood made her feel vaguely ill.
“Ah,” he laughed. “It was very new into Mukuro and I’s relationship. Of course I knew Junko, and I liked her. She and Mukuro were usually tied at the hip. So, of course I had to like her! I spent a lot of time with her.”
A strong feeling of dread rose up in Kyoko’s stomach. She didn’t like where this was going.
“Every day I was alone with her, it was something new and horrible. She… liked to watch me crumble. And within a month or two, I was… not Makoto Naegi anymore. She took everything from me. Agh, it h-hurts. The D-Despair.”
“Mukuro-tan c-couldn’t watch. She always left, left me to Junko’s m-mercy. I can still almost taste the blood,” he said with a rueful smile. “I can still f-feel her hands all over me.”
He gripped his head, obviously in pain, and reached into his pocket one more time. “I was hoping for something elaborate, deserving of someone like me. But it’s okay. Thanks for watching, everyone.”
Time was in slow motion. Kyoko saw a glint of metal and the barrel of a gun. “Stop!” She cried.
A bang rang through the room. Makoto was slumped forward, gun dropping from his fingers, gunshot wound in his temple.