Warriors of Hope finding their former caretaker, who acted like a responsible parent towards them, dead during the Demon Hunt
I never went through the entire of Ultra Despair Girls, so I don't know if I did well here or not - you'll be the judge of that. I wanted to include Monaca, but... Didn't know what to write, so I just gave up. ^^;
⚠ Warning: Blood, gore, death, mentions of sexual abuse (Kotoko). ⚠
With such stress, pressure, intensity and downright abuse this child had to go through because of his parents, he didn't know how to feel when they first introduced him to a caretaker.
Why would he need one? It made him think that, yet again, he had failed his parents.
Because he was never, ever given time to relax like any other child; so, what on earth was this sudden change?
In all reality, it was part of his father's experiment without the boy or his caretaker knowing.
He wanted to see what it'd be like, such a sudden and unexpected change.
Surprisingly, after a while, Nagisa began to open up and act quite normally, like any other child.
Laugh, smile, even play around more.
He seemed to love hisnew caretaker more than his parents.
And then, Junko came into the picture; upon her convincing the kids that their suffering was because of the adults, he and his friends seemed to snap.
He had nearly forgotten about his caretaker, until the time came where he went through with the plan to kill his parents.
Nagisa wasn't the one to give them the bracelet each 'demon' had. He didn't know who did it.
He was the one, however, who found the body.
With one arm crushed underneath rubble, presumably from a building that had crumbled, they couldn't escape inevitable death.
It looked like the job of a Beast Monokuma - those would kill like wild animals, and this certainly appeared like the attack of a wild animal.
Torn clothes stained with blood, the body laying in a pool of it; deep clawmarks and bites, shattered limbs.
It felt like everything stopped right there and then - he never thought that he'd be the one stumbling upon the only person he cared for's body.
All he could utter was a simple, "Oh."
And then just broke down sobbing. God knows how long he stood by the body and cried; all he knew was that he had no more tears to shed when he calmrd down.
His case with a caretaker was more similar to an adoptive parent situation.
With his father being so horribly abusive, especially physically, of course he ran away a few times; that's how he stumbled upon them.
Told them everything, even if it wasn't intended. He just broke down and rented on and on, about how he was scared of abandonment from his father, or how he hated the abuse and how he had to steal alcohol.
At first, he and his caretaker mostly met outside and talked or messed around by pulling pranks, laughing, stupid games like that.
"Not all adults are bad, see? Not to brag, but I'm pretty good."
He agreed, really. Nobody else cheered for him on his races, sports, anything. Nobody played with him, nobody.
The last straw was seeing him all bruised and crying again - the police were called, and Masaru ended up living with his caretaker for a short while. He was truly happy then.
But then, that happened - the tragedy, after his and his friends' attempted suicide, which was stoped by Junko Enoshima.
The Demon Hunt was quite fun to him at first, because he got to kill his dad right off the bat. What else could he possibly ask for?
Certainly not seeing the corpse of the one adult he actually liked.
Yes, they'd been given a bracelet. Yes, they'd participate in the Demon Hunt because they were an adult. But... He wasn't expecting to find them dead.
Or, well, on the brink of death. That was even worse - he had to experience their very last moments with them. He had no choice.
A bunch of the other kids of Towa City had surrounded them and did all sorts of things - hitting, stabbing, about to call Monokumad. Some threw rocks. He stopped and told them all to leave.
He cried, and he never expected he'd be crying over an adult. Over one of the Demons.
"Why you? I- I don't want you to die! You should've found the other Demons and tried to live! You must hate me now..."
Why? Why was he getting all soft and sobbing like a baby over this?
He never forgot his former caretaker's last words:
"I don't hate you. I told you, not all adults are bad, remember?"
He never really liked his caretaker.
He didn't like people who didn't hate him - he felt like being hated brought his peace and happiness. He didn't like being shown affection.
Or so he thought, until he saw what true affection was like.
It wasn't what his mom did. Calling him ugly, wishing he was dead or sick, or that he'd never been born so that she could achieve her goals.
That's why he had a caretaker in the first place. Because his mother didn't want to deal with him.
Said caretaker showed him true affection; didn't force him to wear that ugly mask, didn't yell or mock him, appreciated and praised his artistic skills.
He liked that. Jataro deemed them the only good adult in the world, because even the teachers put him in a class for troublemakers.
But... Even if he liked them, he just couldn't get his mother's words out of his head, or what his teachers said, or anything else.
So, when Junko saved him and his friends, he kind of... Forgot. About the adult who had actually shown him some affection and love.
The bracelet had presumably been given to them when he was already outside or working on his masterpiece.
After a while, he started to believe that the whole thing about him having a gentle caretaker was a dream he made up, because he wanted love but never had it.
But then, he saw the body.
He was outside, and it was just laying on the dirty street, next to a broken down car and a store with shattered windows.
All limbs bent at awkward angles, broken. The body almost deformed by the torture -presumably- they'd endured. Yet their eyes were wide open and staring up at the sky, tear stained cheeks with splatters of their own blood from a scratch on them.
He didn't cry, he just stared for a good minute or so. It wasn't a dream, huh? He really did have a caretaker after all.
He did feel guilty. He and the rest Warriors of Hope were responsible for the Demon Hunt, after all.
While he didn't cry, he dragged the body against a wall slowly; didn't hesitate to reposition the limbs so that they looked somewhat natural again. He closed their eyes, even found a flower to lay on their lap.
The next day, he returned with a drawing he'd made ages ago - he searched his old house and found it. The two of them just sitting and smiling.
That's when he cried, next to the now peaceful looking body.
Kotoko got a caretaker because both of her parents were too 'busy' sometimes.
And by busy, that meant her dad cheating on his wife, while said wife prostituted herself to to producers.
The caretaker was to take the girl to her performances or wait for her practice to end and take her back home. They weren't really aware of what was going on.
Thinking they'd be late, didn't think of it as much to walk into the changing room and help Kotoko with whatever was taking her so long; but, what she saw wasn't what she expected.
Seeing old men all over a ten year old girl, doing awful things, wasn't what they were expecting to see.
They literally yanked the poor kid from their filthy hands, only managing to offer a their jacket for cover as they ran.
Long story short - Kotoko lived with her caretaker for a while. And she wouldn't complain.
Apparently, this sexual abuse had been going on for years. And her parents knew, were responsible for it too.
Kotoko loved her caretaker. They did take her to performances and theater plays, but not with the same producers of course. They played together, helped her practice.
Like an actual, caring parent. It was amazing.
As much as she loved it... How was she supposed to forget all those years of sexual abuse? Caused by her own parents 'for her own good'? She couldn't.
Kotoko did feel a little bad for her caretaker when she was up on the roof with her friends and about to jump.
And she felt a little bad when she first saw them during the Demon Hunt, running to escape from a bunch of kids desperately.
She felt the worst when she saw their corpse a few days later.
She felt like she'd throw up. Sick to her stomach, dizzy and dreadful.
What was even more horrible, was that the scene reminded her of what had happened to her all those years ago.
Because of the clothes being torn carelessly like this, exposing a bit too much skin.
At least... It looked like a quick death, judging by the wound at the back of their head.
But, the girl sat by the body and held the limp, cold hand in hers. She remembered it being so warm and holding her own so carefully.
She kept apologizing over and over, even if she knew nothing would change.
