so i was replaying dongo bongo v3 demo again (as you do when you’re a hinaegi fan) and i thought oh yeah that thing where they recreate the “demo death”. yeah. that. that is definitely going to be a little traumatizing.
//
“Alright.” Hinata says, splashing the last touches of fake blood onto Hagakure’s torso. “This should do it.”
He pulls back, and surveys the result. “Play dead.” He says, and Hagakure, slumped against the shower wall in his rare stillness, makes the perfect false corpse sitting in a puddle of red.
“Now all we have to do is to leave Monokuma to cover up the rest.” Naegi nods beside him, face a little too pale. It’s concerning.
Though staging a fake death and in succession, a fake investigation for a fake court in order to prepare their underclassmen for the real deal can’t be easy no matter what, there is absolutely no reason why this demonstration had to be drawn from a case that actually happened: Naegi’s first case, at that. Hinata never went through Maizono Sayaka’s death, but if Hagakure’s words are to be believed from when they were putting up the set together, the situations are disturbingly similar. From the crime scene, to the murder weapon, to the cause of death, to the prime suspect- direct replications. There is without a doubt that Monokuma chose this scenario specifically to be cruel.
Naegi’s face is a little too pale. It’s distressing. Naegi had been awfully quiet when they built the scene. They exit the room together, and Hinata doesn’t miss the way his hands linger on the door a fraction too long.
He puts a tentative hand on Naegi’s shoulder, and feels a tiny shudder upon contact. “Naegi.” he calls out gently. “Are you doing alright?”
Naegi nods. “I should be glad it’s not the real thing, right?”
“It’s not the real thing.” Hinata repeats, just to make sure that Naegi hears what he’s saying with his own two ears. “Hagakure is perfectly okay. After the mock trial, we’ll get him and go home. We’ll find Komaru completely unscathed, because there’s no reason for Monokuma to go back on his own word. And even if he did, Komaru is good at handling herself. She’ll fight them off.”
“Right.” Naegi answers. He still looks uneasy, but some color has finally returned to his cheeks. “She’s a much better athlete than I am.”
“She is.”
“And she’s careful.”
“She is.”
“And smart.”
“She is.”
“She’s fine.”
“She is.” says Hinata, confidently.
“So is Hagakure-kun.”
“Yes.”
“I’m fine too.” Naegi looks up at him, and his eyes are bright. It is a promise as well as a reassurance.
“I’m glad.” Hinata blurts. He squeezes Naegi’s shoulder, to steady himself. “And our underclassmen will be fine too.” He says, though there’s no way he could know this, but Naegi meets him surely.
“They will.” He says, with the conviction of a good person who’s never lost the ability to believe. “We just have to have faith in them, and they will show us.”
“Yes.” Hinata echoes. “They will.” One way or another.
“And you?”
Hinata feels the pressure of a hand covering over his, a firm grip piled upon his on top of Naegi’s shoulder.
His voice catches in his throat. Is he fine? He feels sick to the stomach that there’s nothing he could do to stop another killing game from happening, that his underclassmen are going to have to go through the same hellish experience Naegi and himself have endured. Or, maybe they won’t, but who can guarantee that? None of them managed to escape from the game, who’s to say Akamatsu’s class could, resourceful as they are?
Hinata is not as good as Naegi when it comes to preserving hope. It is such a shapeless, unmeasurable variable. How could anyone be sure whether it’s there or not? Blindly believing in false hope could be dangerous. It does nothing more than drive minds into delusional dead ends. Hope is too uncertain in Hinata’s eyes.
But if there’s one thing he knows about hope, it’s that it is tucked somewhere in the corners of tomorrow, and tomorrow always comes. The future, for certain, is constant. Therefore with it, hope. Hinata looks at Naegi’s careful hand upon his, and he thinks he will try to believe.
“I will be.” He vows.
Naegi smiles, the type that worms into his chest and puts all his worries to rest. “I’m glad.” he replies.
I realized that I've never written any naegami. huh.
//
The pedestal is cracked- at the bottom, (the base) so it's only a matter of time before it crumbles and falls. And it will. There’s no mistake about that. And you’d better flee before that happens. (It’s ugly, devastating, earth-shattering. You do not want to get stuck with picking up the broken pieces. That’s a plebeian job, meant for those who slave for minimum wage.)
You are standing on that pedestal, aren’t you? Where would you run to? You can’t run. Running is unsightly.
(You’re acting like it hasn’t been completely decimated already. Denial is one hell of an affair, that hooks you in and charms any semblance of sense right out your head, because it’s all that’s left that will still honor your foolish grip on your slipping dignity.)
This is what is actually left: yourself, your angry stare at the sizzling television screen long after that offending piece of news was first broadcasted over the news, and the terrible scraping noise of something broken digging its vindictive claws into your head with its dying breath.
Rationally, you recognize that this is not your fault, and there is nothing you can do to salvage the situation, because for one, the entire world is in chaos, for two, you are sheltered in your school hiding from all the outside world’s destructions; but perhaps your naysayers have finally managed to worm their way into your ear, because all you can hear is a cacophony of echoes screeching The Togami line died on your hands!
When Togami Corporations fell, you should’ve fallen with it, as was the duty of the heir, but you’re still here. This isn’t how you were brought up. You are going to live the rest of your life wallowing in loss.
“Togami-kun.” a muffled voice knocks at the door. “I’m coming in, alright?”
Before you answer, (you weren’t going to answer at all) Naegi has already made himself comfortable pulling up a chair across from you. He doesn’t try to turn off the TV, and you’re not sure if you hate him for it, or thank him for it.
His hand is steady when you grip it too tight. His voice is gentle when you cling to his words too desperately. “You’re only seventeen, Togami-kun.” He says.
Akamatsu-san's nails looked beautiful. Now they merely exist dully, chipped at the end from her clawing at the rope around her neck. The pretty paint is ruined- what a shame, the last of what is left of Amami Rantarou. And to think, Akamatsu-san must've died thinking she killed him. Dreadful!
Tsumugi doesn't cry when she finishes off handling the body. What author cries when sending off a character? She cards her fingers through Akamatsu-san's hair gently, for the last time, and feels the slightest tint of sadness of bringing down her curtains.
Akamatsu-san's performance had been brilliant, but now it's time for her to leave the stage.
"Otsukaresamadeshita." Tsumugu whispers into her lifeless cheek, and presses a soft kiss there. Thank you for your hard work. You did well. Now, rest.
Every writer is a little in love with her creation. And for one like Tsumugi-
Tsumugi doesn't cry when she leaves Akamatsu-san's body to the staff of Danganronpa, but no one needs to know the way she lingers for just a half of a second longer at the doorway.
There’s a potted plant on the window sill that he’s taken to watering regularly, not out of any particular reason, if he’s being honest. He saw it one day and the thought just popped up. He did ask Naegi about it first, who was happy to leave the responsibility to him.
He knows Naegi tried, but Naegi always had a lot on his shoulders that didn’t really allow him to spare thoughts to take care of another living being, even something as simple as a succulent. So he took over just like that, feeding it water and sunlight and attention. That's a human thing to do, right? As if he cares either way.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
this is *checks notes* vaguely shippy kamuegi. because i had a sudden Craving. (or perhaps because to analyze your eyes made me feel too much for this ship.) (please read it)
writing kamukura is,,, so,,,, tiring,,,,,
he never,,,, cooperates,,,,,
and i never,,, know,,, if i got him,,, right,,,, or not,,,,, hopefully i did,,, but really who knows,,,,,
one thing that is fun though is he speaks in a very short and clipped way and it’s interesting to write.
Naegi blinks slowly at the face of his very inquisitive best friend. Maizono-san’s eyes are practically bulging out of their sockets, with how wide she’s stretching them.
He sets down his glass of iced tea, and hesitates a little on where to look, before finally settling on the basket of bread loaves in the middle of the table.
He says, “I’m pretty sure I got a hooker’s number.”
“You…what?”
“If it helps, I’m pretty sure he’s not trying to sell me service.”
Actually, thinking about it, it was more like Kamukura-kun wanted to tutor him.
And well, when Naegi agreed to attend the charity event to cover for Togami-kun, he didn’t expect to be coached by a prostitute. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a sex-worker! It’s a perfectly valid profession! He just never imagined himself to look like one!
But he’s getting ahead of himself, so backtracking it is.
//
I have a much bigger social event to handle. You’ll go in my place for this one. The way Togami-kun said it allowed no questions, such was his usual manner of speaking.
Oh. Alright. What other choice did he have? He is being paid to cater to Togami-kun’s every whim. And he’s being paid generously, too, so he’s not in much position to complain.
At least Kirigiri-san would also be there, albeit for different reasons. It’s always good to have some sort of company.
The main problem here, was that Naegi wasn’t used to wearing fancy suits at all, and it should be evident to anyone who looks at him.
Over here! His posture seemed to scream. Look at the goofy commoner that clearly does not belong here.
So he busied himself at the sides. Naegi didn’t have any orders to interact with the crowd anyway. He was there as a dummy representative, to turn down any business offers, or so he’d been told. He didn’t understand why, but he knew better than to question.
Kirigiri-san had already flitted off to who-knew-where. There’d been whispers that there was a young detective among the guests that night, so maybe she was off to chat with them instead. And well, who was Naegi to protest? She probably craved a new set of ears to bounce her ideas of her current case off of, seeing as Naegi was unable to offer any professional insight whatsoever.
And he was left to cower at the refreshments table hoping that he looked old enough for alcohol to the waiters. He was, but he didn’t exactly look it.
That was why when the other man talked to him, actually talked to Naegi, he was so surprised he nearly dropped his drink. He also very certainly choked. Then he proceeded to spend a good while clearing out his windpipes.
“Sorry.” The man said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Meanwhile, Naegi was trying hard not to look like a fool as he attempted to cough his lungs out. “Ah.” Oh, his voice definitely sounded hoarser than it was. “It’s alright. I was just blanking out, so really it’s on me.”
After finally coming back to himself, he steadied a look at the man. Dressed in a white suit, the man had a tall and sturdy build. His jaw was well-defined, and he had an attractive face. The man also looked confident to be here, unlike Naegi, who was panicking all over.
He did reach out to Naegi though, so maybe he was just a good guy.
Then Naegi introduced himself and smiled, because that was what you did when you wanted to be nice to someone who was nice to you.
“Kamukura Izuru.” the man said back. His grip was solid.
And Naegi pumped his fist internally, to celebrate finding company in this confusing party that was too bright and too loud for him to catch up on. See: somewhere in the other corner of the room, a girl burst into an off-pitch song randomly as a crowd cheered her on. Naegi did not want to know whatever went on over there, but the commotion surrounding them was so loud he was forced to practically drape himself over Kamukura-kun’s shoulder if he didn’t want to scream his throat out like a banshee, and somewhere in his mind, despite the very vocal display literally half a room away, he still thought business parties were supposed to be poised and quiet. So in the softest voice he could manage without the sound being completely drowned, he said, “I actually don’t know much about the whales, seeing as I’m here on someone else’s behalf, but I’d really like to learn!”
In Naegi’s defense, Togami-kun hadn’t informed him of this event until the very last minute, and he didn’t seem all that interested in whales either. Naegi might’ve read up a little about them otherwise, just for the sake of it.
And things were going so far so good, right? Things were normal.
But for some reason, it was like realization dawned on Kamukura-kun all of a sudden. Realization of what? No, but Naegi couldn’t for the life of him piece anything together. Was “whales” secretly code word for something? Why else would Kamukura-kun slap him on the shoulder with an entirely too bright smile and ask him who his target was?
He didn’t have a target. Obviously. In fact, he was so without a target that he was quite literally one step away from melding right into the walls.
To top it off, his jitters of being the odd one out at a party that was clearly for a higher society had been perceived as rookie’s nerves acting up, which, okay, he was nervous, but it wasn’t because he was about to have sex! Not that he’d ever had. But regardless.
Then just as he was about to explain himself that sir please, I’m actually a virgin, something clearly came up with Kamukura-kun, because he seemed to have caught the eye of someone. And that must’ve been his cue to leave or, well, do his job, maybe, because he gave Naegi a firm squeeze on his right bicep. “Sorry, but I kind of have to duck. Don’t worry though, you’ve got this.” He smiled sunnily, and quickly passed over his business card. “I’m sure it goes without saying that you don’t go around telling your boss about this, but if you’re ever in need of assistance, give me a call, alright?”
Then he vanished into the crowd before Naegi could even get a word in.
That was the whole story.
//
“Oh, wow.” Maizono-san says. It’s clear she’s trying her hardest to keep a straight face, and Naegi appreciates that about her! He appreciates that despite her amusement, she’s trying not to make him feel ridiculed. She’s got her poker face perfected and everything.
However, the noticeable tremble in her voice is less convincing.
“You said you’ve got his business card?”
Naegi nods reluctantly, and reaches into his wallet. He pulls out the clean-cut slip of black cardstock paper and lays it in the middle of the table. On a golden print, read the name Kamukura Izuru in a fancy cursive, followed by a trail of numbers which he assumed is Kamukura-kun’s phone number. Naegi racks his head to think of anything that would make this business card look more sketchy in a sexy kind of way.
"You've got to call him." Maizono-san is the first to break the silence.
"And tell him what? That I'm not actually a sex worker but I thank him for being a good-hearted senior in the industry?" Naegi groans, burying his face in his hands. "That's just weird! And embarrassing! And completely unnecessary!"
"But he did give you his business card! He's offering to be your mentor. It would be rude to ghost him!"
“It would be rude to call him when I have no reason to!” he protests.
Maizono-san fixes him with a Look. The particular Look she wears when she’s planning something. The kind of Look that makes Naegi a little nervous, then bad for being nervous, because Maizono-san would never have anything less than his best interests at heart. But the thing is, Naegi often fears that she is misguided when it comes to his best interests.
“This Kamukura Izuru is attractive, yes?” she asks finally.
“Yeah.” Naegi replies cautiously. “Why do you ask?”
“And you said he’s nice.”
He shrugs. “Nice enough to make conversation with me when he’s clearly there for a specific purpose, unlike me.”
“And you’re trying to get your parents to get off of your back about your love life.”
“Please. No.”
Maizono-san raises her hands in an entirely innocent posture. “I swear I’ll drop it if you’re really against it, but at least hear me out here.”
Naegi stifles a sigh. He is no match against Maizono-san when she’s genuinely trying to be helpful. He is going to regret this, but, “Alright.”
“Ask him out on a date. Grab lunch together or something. Get to know him! And if it works out, you score a nice, attractive boyfriend who happens to be good at sex.”
“But-”
“Be honest.” She stares him down. “Can you get behind the idea of dating Kamukura Izuru?”
And that’s the truth he sort of wants to hide from, isn’t it? That he’s really not against the idea at all. Like Maizono-san pointed out, Kamukura-kun is good-looking and sweet, and has a laugh tinted by sunlight. And Naegi would not mind failing at chatting about whales with him for the rest of his life.
He can’t help but hold up a feeble fight though. “What if he already has a significant other? Or pulls the I’d rather be friends card?”
Maizono-san blinks. “Then you get a new friend. No harm there either.”
Naegi hates to admit it, but she makes a perfectly valid point.
///
tbc
Just to be clear, I will smooth out the whole thing once I write all of it, like little edits here and there to make it flow better. I really should’ve thought out this AU better when I first came up with it but now I’m forced to work with what I have *weak smile* Hope you guys enjoyed part 2 w/ Naegi pov!
