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The Golden Heart - Chapter 2

art by @doodles-by-noodles ! Both CH1 and CH2 can be found on Ao3, link will be in the replies. I hope you enjoy!

The clamor of panicked peers yelling made Makoto feel like a truck crashed into his brain. The storm of noises clashed against the little serenity he could muster. “It’s alright” he said “Let’s all quiet down so we can make a plan.” But each word was drowned out by distressed theories. They would veer on the edge of nonsense if it weren’t for the fact that Makoto had just seen a walking monster corpse. He could only pick out bits and pieces of the others’ cries as they fought to be the loudest in the room.

“Who died?”

“Who was killed?”

“Who’s next?”

“Could you all just please calm down!” Makoto yelled. The pain in his head rivaled the one in his chest. He nearly sagged with relief when everyone began to quiet down.

Kyoko cleared her throat, and waited for everyone to turn to her. “The good news is that no one else has died.” she said.

“Really?” Aoi’s voice pitched, face pale, “You’re sure?”

“Of course she’s sure, don’t you idiots know how to count?” Byakuya huffed, “Everyone is accounted for. Even I can tell as much, and I don’t know half of your names.”

Makoto rushed to step between Byakuya and Aoi, cautiously eyeing her clenched and shaking fists. “He’s right, we don’t have to worry about that for now. We just have to worry about Maizono-san.”

“So, Naegi-kun was telling the truth…?” Chihiro held a fist over her mouth, staring down at the floor with a vacant look. Her voice was a whimper to the untrained ear, but really it was an emotionless echo. “A dead person has become a monster?”

“Let’s not get hasty!” Kiyotaka announced, “While I want to believe the words of a peer, there must be a more logical explanation for this!”

“How the fuck does your ‘logic’ explain this?” Mondo prodded at the mangled metal of the access panel where it lay across the room in a battered heap on the floor. Its bends and folds were reminiscent of a soda can crushed between two hands. With his fingers over the sharp edges of splintering metal, Mondo admired the impossibility of the markings. The panel could not have been destroyed by hand, yet the patterns of damage were too irregular to be machine made.

‘I-...well…!”

“Ogami Sakura-dono could easily smash such an item! Her attack stat is OP!”

Sakura nodded, “this is true. However, I am not so brutish.”

Aoi raised her hand, determination strong in her eyes, “I was with her the entire time! This wasn’t her!”

"Is it really worth it to go pointing fingers at each other?" Chihiro fidgeted with her hands.

"Well, if it's not one of us…” Junko sighed, hand resting on her face as she stared at the ground. “...I don't want to think about it."

A weak laugh.

Theorizing had been forgotten in place of the pathetic airy sound.

Leon stood there, staring down at the cracks in the blood, with a haunt in his eyes. The edges of the stains were a darker red than the inside, which held a shiny wet hue. There was a grotesque black tar-like rim where the two shades of red touched. The blackness of graveyard dirt, the fogginess of spoiled meat. The clash of sickening flakes and colors and coagulation… the way the splotches were thrown against the ground uncaringly. The repugnant visuals demanded that all eyes gaze upon it. In those markings, Makoto saw clues that were never scrubbed away. Makoto saw grit teeth and ignored last words. The blood left behind the burn marks of anger. Anger which mimicked Leon’s hollow laugh, anger Leon could not take his eyes off of.

Anger that was now directed at Makoto.

Makoto’s feet lost ground as he was thrown upwards by Leon yanking at the front of his hoodie. Makoto could hear some of the others panicking beyond the trembling in his assailant’s hands; telling Leon to let go, to calm down, anything . Makoto could hardly pay attention to that with Leon’s breath harshly beating down on his face through his clenched jaw. The canines of Leon’s teeth stood out from under his flared lips, ready to bite Makoto’s head off. He clawed at Leon’s hand, begging him to let go. Leon couldn’t hear him. Not with the boiling rot inside his body.

For a moment, Makoto thought about how blood dries from the outside-in.

“What the hell did you do?!” Makoto was throttled back and forth, he heaved as something in his chest felt loose when his back hit the wall. Had he broken a rib at some point? When?

“I-I didn’t do anything…!”

“Clearly you fucking did!”

The impact of being thrown to the ground ran through Makoto’s bones. He hissed through his nose, grasping at his chest with unsteady fingers. It felt like something had been rattled inside of him, he could feel it knocking against something . And it fucking hurt. He scrambled backwards, hoping his body would hold itself together. The hollow pounding in his ears grew faster when saw Leon scowling down at him.

“Explain this shit, Naegi!” Makoto had never faced such uncensored fury before in his life. He was staring down a caged tiger that was finally released after years of torment. Leon’s arm shot out in a jerky, unkempt motion, gesturing to the blood on the floor. “This shouldn’t be here ! What the fuck did you do!?” Leon’s voice trembled with its outrage.

Makoto took two quick gasps of air, he didn’t have time to think his words through. Not against this . “I know that it’s hard to lose a friend but-”

“ You piece of shit! ” Makoto flinched and curled in on himself, hands over his head.

“That’s enough.”

Makoto opened his eyes again to the sound of Leon screaming “Put me down, dammit!” Sakura had grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, and lifted him off the ground with only one hand. He kicked and flailed, anger not subsiding. Makoto winced at the sight of spit spraying from his screaming mouth.

Makoto stood up with Aoi’s help and dusted off his clothes. “Thank you, Ogami-san.”

Sakura nodded, unphased by Leon’s continued kicks. She waited with a stoic expression for Leon to work out his anger. Once his struggling began to die down from exhaustion she told him “It will do us no good to let our anger get the best of us.”

“Let my-... Let my anger-?!” Leon bared his teeth, craning his neck to glare at Sakura, “Did you forget what happened?!”

“Dude, give it a rest already.” Mondo said, causing Leon to snap his head in that direction.

“Are you guys serious right now?!” He yelled. “You can’t really-!”

Makoto could see the exact moment that Leon registered the varying expressions of pity, annoyance, and suspicion on the crowd's faces. His demeanor dropped, sagging in Sakura’s hold, still inches off the ground like a pathetic rag doll. Leon was strung up for the world to view him at seemingly his lowest, a judging spectacle. Looking at the distraught kicked puppy expression on Leon’s face gave Makoto the urge to apologize.

“I’m…I’m not…” Leon’s eyes darted from face to face, his voice was soft and pleading , “I’m not the bad guy here..!” An airy, hollow laugh punctuated his breath before he spoke again, looking delirious with emotion. “Don’t look at me like I’m the bad guy, I’m not the one who had a dead girl in his room!”

Sakura lowered him back to his feet. Leon stood there for a moment. It was an awkward silence as he tried to pull himself together from his stuttering stumbling state. He took two deep breaths. He lifted his head. He still took a moment to send a harsh look at Makoto's way, but his anger had subsided somewhat.

“... Are we really going to just trust him now just because some weird shit happened?” He muttered.

“Kuwata does, unfortunately for us, have a point.” Celestia snapped her fingers, and in an instant Hifumi had run over to her and dropped to all fours. She sat down on his back, crossing her legs with an unfitting elegance for the disturbing image before Makoto’s eyes. “This shouldn’t be here…If the case is the case as we know it.”

“G-g-get…get to t-the point!” Makoto briefly wondered how long Toko had been standing at the entrance of the trash room with her eyes covered and her back to them.

“Perhaps we simply don’t understand what happened.” Celeste said. “Perhaps the scene of the crime was here rather than his room.”

“It’s certainly a possibility that I am considering.” Kyoko said. The ache in Makoto’s chest seemed to dull somewhat despite her words. The object that clamored within the confines of his ribcage stalled its movement, and now all he felt was that strange, hollow heartbeat. “However, I would like to consider Naegi-kun’s theory as well.”

“You really think that there’s a monster Maizono, Kyoko-chan?” Aoi asked.

“Naegi-kun’s theory is, at the very least, worth exploring. Yes, it does not make sense listening to it. However, we are not going to get any closer to the truth by arguing over it. We may discover something if we simply let Naegi-kun explain what he saw.”

“I’ll do more than explain.” Makoto felt determined now. Once everyone believed him… then they could all work together to protect themselves. Or even better… maybe they could figure out a way to save Sayaka. There had to be a way right? He was positive. He could feel that hope thumming warmly in his chest. It filled him with the confidence needed to get things done. “I’ll show you her, she’s in my room right now. But I need you all to take it seriously, she’s very dangerous. I don’t think she’s herself right now.”

“Yeah, dude, cuz she’s fucking dead!” Yasuhiro yelled in a panic, only to receive a sharp elbow to the side from Aoi. “Sorry.” He hissed out, “I don’t like all this ghostly humbo jumbo, man.”

“Aren’t you a medium or something…?”

“ Clairvoyant. ”

“So, he does know big words.” Byakuya said.

“Focus, everyone.” Makoto waved his hands to grab their attention again.

“Everyone should grab some sort of weapon, perhaps from the kitchen.” Sakura tapped her finger repeatedly against her bicep. “Owada-kun and I will be in the front for your protection. Naegi-kun will join, just behind us, as he is the one guiding us.”

“Will that be enough?” Chihiro asked, her wide eyes begging for guidance.

“It will have to be.” Sakura said.

“It will be!” Makoto ensured. “With all of us in a group… sure, it will be hard, but we can do it!”

“D-don’t forget that t-t-this thing probab-b-bably is bulls-shit though.” Toko hissed out, trembling with a pair of scissors in her hand as she shuffled out of the room.

“I’m sure it will be enough to fight Naegi’s grand delusion.” Byakuya did not stock himself with a weapon, and instead stayed close to the “brutish” Mondo.

As long as everyone was in agreement with checking it out, that’s all that mattered. That’s what Makoto told himself. They were resistant now, but when they saw the mons- Sayaka with their own eyes, the tone would change. Makoto knew it, he just had to be patient. Mondo handed him a hammer. This was happening. This was real. He just had to be prepared.

As everyone filed out of the room with weapons in their hands, Makoto steeled his nerves. He had to be on the forefront of this mission, no more being an average joe follower, he had to treat himself like a leader, for now.

With this resolve in mind, he made his way out of the-

A tight gripped hand squeezed at his bicep and ripped him backwards, away from the crowd of people.

Makoto gasped at the sudden crazed eyes glowering down at him. Makoto would have once described Leon’s eyes as a calming blue. Makoto’s image of him was being torn to pieces with every passing moment. The sweat down his brow matched with the pinprick pupils and erratic behavior… it seemed like Leon was losing his humanity more so than the monster sleeping in their midst. Makoto had no words to say to Leon. What could he say? What could placate such intense emotions? Did he just have to sit and be a target until Leon set his sights on something else? But that would only come through the accusation of another friend. Leon truly and wholeheartedly saw Makoto as someone who killed one of them.

“Listen to me and listen to me very closely, Naegi.” It wasn’t betrayal in his eyes. No, it was just anger. It was panic. It was fear. But not betrayal. Why was Leon pointing it all out on him? He couldn’t see any mourning, he couldn’t see any sense of revenge. Just anger . Just fear.

“I will not let you kill anyone here. You got that?”

Makoto spoke with a numb tongue, “I won’t-”

“Whatever crazy shit is going on here, I’m not letting it get to anyone else so you better back the fuck off.” Leon’s eyes hoped for Makoto to die on the spot. His face was curled into a grimace, as though Makoto were a disgusting wiggling roach. He shoved Makoto, and caught up with the others while Makoto stumbled to get his balance back.

He watched as the others walked down the hall outside of the garbage room, weapons in their hands and nerves all in flames. He listened as the sounds of everyone's banter and worries grew just a bit quieter over time. Makoto took a moment to just stand there and be Makoto. Just himself and the ache in his chest.

He took a slow, long, drawn out breath through his nose… then released it through his mouth with an exhausted huff.

“Naegi-kun,” He looked up at the sound of Aoi’s voice, “C’mon, don’t fall behind.”

“Sorry.” He walked over to the entrance, “I’m coming.”

Aoi smiled at him. Her smile was sugar and sunshine. Her smile was refreshing. As she guided him over to Sakura, he basked in the light of Aoi’s smile, wishing to be a beacon himself. He wondered how much nicer their situation would be if more people could light up a room the way Aoi just did.

Makoto clutched at the hammer given to him by Mondo. He had no intention of using it unless absolutely necessary.

Approaching the door was an unwelcome but necessary experience. As they grew closer to the barricaded door, the light hearted banter between friends died down. For a moment, no one did anything. They simply stared at the array of heavy objects acting as the lock for a monster's enclosure. They waited, they listened. There was nothing.

The silence was far more disturbing that he could have expected. He had prepared to hear Sayaka rampaging from within his room, or at the very least some sign of life.

Perhaps his first mistake was expecting life from the dead.

What did the crime scene say? He wondered. Beyond the scratches torn into the walls of his unwilling bedroom, was there something to be found? If he checked underneath the bloody floorboards would he discover the real Sayaka and her last moments? Behind this door, would he see a person? Would the others see that same person? Did the truth communicate itself through constants even when reality has turned itself inside-out?

“Owada-kun should open the door.” Kyoko said impassively. “Ogami-san is our strongest asset in terms of physical strength. Should we need to use force, she should have her hands free.”

“Fair enough.” Mondo mumbled, moving the last piece of the barricade out of the way.

Behind the two fighters, everyone readied their weapons and held their breath. They kept to silence, as though tending to a wild animal. Makoto felt his entire body tense when Mondo’s hand took hold of the door knob. Now or never. Now or never.

The door opened.

The sight was ghastly, even to Makoto who experienced the downfall of the room. The furniture was toppled on its ends. There were rigged gashes torn into the walls, the floors, the ceiling. No one could think as they drank in the sight, reading the scrawled bloody messages scattered across the walls. The aftermath of decimation, it seems, was a scene few could prepare for. Even Leon for all his earlier bravado had been stunned by the stark contrast from earlier. And the cause for it all… the hand behind the last message… who had little place left to hide following her own destruction..?

When Makoto was a kid, his little sister would often barge into his room asking him to kill a spider for her. Now, Makoto was by no means a brave kid. He defined himself as average, and as such he held humanity's typical fear for creepy crawlers. But his sister asked him so earnestly, too scared to be in her own room until she saw Makoto drag the spider out in a cup with her own eyes. But every now and then, in between finding the spider and getting a cup… he'd lose sight of it entirely.

Makoto found the absence to be a lot scarier.

"Where is she?" Kyoko asked calmly. She gestured for Sakura to follow her as she stepped into the room. With zero hesitation, Kyoko opened the bathroom and poked her head inside. She turned back to Makoto, waiting for an explanation.

"I… don't-" Makoto shuddered. When- how ? The door was barricaded!

"Th-this is really creepy…" Chihiro said, hugging herself. "11037… her last message. It's everywhere…"

"I have a question for the ever-intelligent jury" Byakuya's tone was mocking but Makoto sensed some delight in his eyes. "How do we know Naegi isn't just experiencing some sort of psychotic break?"

Makoto expected another outburst from Leon at that. Instead Leon was staring at the scene of the crime, at the wall of plastered dying messages, with a stunned look.

"Get fuckin' real, rich boy." Mondo ignored Byakuya's glare, "No way Naegi could lift all this shit. The fuckin' bed is on its side."

"I strongly am against the use of foul language and will speak to Owada-kun after dismissal! However, I must agree with the logic of that statement!"

"That doesn't mean Naegi-kun couldn't have fabricated something." Celeste argued.

"Why would he destroy his own room?" Sakura seemed confused by the entire situation.

"Why is only his room trashed…" Leon mumbled, he was drawing blood from his palms, digging crescents into the skin with tight fists.

"It would appear that solving Maizono Sayaka-san's murder will be the key to everything." Kyoko said, writing down notes in a small writing pad.

"Yeah!" Junko clapped her hands together, "Like this shits totes freaky but clearly murder has to do with it, right?"

“I-...” Aoi withdrew into herself, clutching at her own wrist, “Look, I really don’t want to… ‘investigate’ this anymore. This was a person that I talked to.”

“F-F-For a few days.” Toko hissed out, mumbling something about ‘two big titted bimbos’.

Chihiro placed a comforting hand onto her back, “I-I understand how you feel, but this might be the only way to honor her memory.”

“Uhm, forgive me for my outburst.” Hifumi, with one hand behind his back and on the other fixing his glasses, spoke up with a straight posture. “Are we seriously going to solve a murder when there is a supposed monster roaming rampant in this school?!”

“I don’t see a monster.” Mondo said, “I say fuck it, might as well do the next best thing.”

“Owada Mondo-dono, my friend, you have just increased your ranking on my personal ‘most likely to die in a survival horror series’ list.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“Ignoring those two clowns,” Leon pulled away from the wall. He scratched, for just a moment, at the pale skin of his face. Makoto pretended to not see the way his hands trembled. “Maybe the ‘murder’ was an accident?”

Byakuya took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I am surrounded by the biggest nitwits the world has to offer.”

“It is very clear-” Kyoko said. It was admirable how she could ignore such banter. “-that this monster, the state of Naegi-kun’s room, and the murder of Maizono Sayaka are all connected. If there is a monster in the building with us, we will run into it no matter what we do. So, it is much more productive to instead investigate the biggest clue we have pertaining to said creature so that we can hopefully learn something before that encounter.”

Everyone stared at Kyoko.

“Any objections?”

“I agree with you, Kirigiri-san.” Chihiro’s eyes were teary, “B-but… how do we even look for clues? We tried to figure it out earlier, remember?”

“Bleh.” Junko rolled her eyes, flicking her wrist nonchalantly at Chihiro without even looking at her, “ ‘How do we even look for clues’? Do you hear yourself? You could start by using your eyes.”

Chihiro put her face in her hands, “That’s not what I…”

Makoto felt a strange flicker in his heartbeat, like that of a lightbulb before it fully shines.

Kyoko stood up tall, “Searching for clues will not come naturally to many of you, however it is important to document whatever you see, no matter how seemingly inconsequential.”

“I can’t exactly report every time I see one of you, now can I?” Byakuya said.

Kyoko pointedly ignored him, causing Byakuya to click his tongue.

“Do you… really think all of us running around like fuckin’ headless chickens will solve anything?” Makoto wondered where the fire that raged in Leon disappeared to. He seemed a shell of the man who threw him to the floor just a bit ago.

“If you continue to search for the truth…” Kyoko’s eyes were glued to Makoto’s as he spoke. He wished he could understand if it was admiration, respect, or perhaps maybe she thought he was silly for his speech. “Then you’ll get closer to it.”

Makoto took this chance to stare Leon down. Their first instance of unbroken eye contact without emotions clouding the interaction. It was determination against wariness, and Makoto wanted Leon to understand. They were both after Sayaka’s killer . They would solve this. No matter what it took.

Leon huffed, and turned his back.

It was the last sight Makoto saw before suddenly his vision was ripped away from him. Shrill screeches made his ear drums shake as everyone panicked at the sudden black out. Makoto turned around and felt for the wall, feeling panic thrum along at the desolation of it all. He could not see his own hands in front of his face, he could see nothing. He was completely defenseless, and the sounds of his friends did little to gauge the situation outside of “It is now dark”.

A flash suddenly blinded his eyes, causing Makoto to squint against the sudden burn.

When his eyes finally adjusted, Makoto found himself staring down at his own chest with a numb feeling. He turned back towards his friends, unsure what to even do. Did he want to ask for help? For a second opinion?

“Is that…?”

“What the fuck.”

“Naegi-kun.” Kyoko’s voice caught his attention, “What is that?”

Through the fabric of Makoto’s hoodie was a box ring of golden light, fuzzy through the fabric it tried to escape from. Makoto couldn’t even be scared at the sight, It wasn’t anything directly threatening, it was just out of place. Abnormal. Unexpectedly so. He couldn’t even begin to fathom a way to explain it.

“Do you have a working phone on you!?”

“Are you dumb? That’s way too big to be a phone.”

“And bright!”

Makoto didn’t answer the others, instead he began to fumble with unfeeling fingers for the zipper of his hoodie. He pulled it down, eyes glued to the box of light which continued to glow. There was nothing between his hoodie and his undershirt. The box of light now permeated the shirt, suggesting the issue was something deeper.

“I-I don’t…” Makoto tried to find a logical reason to explain this, “I don’t have anything there. ” he said.

He lifted up his shirt, knowing that the truth was unwilling to reveal itself until Makoto went searching. He heard his classmates gasp before he properly understood what he was staring at.

Makoto let out a pitched yelp, throwing himself back against the wall with a bang. He tried his best to not hyperventilate, legs shaking as he scrambled to feel at his upper body.

Integrated into his chest, there was an engraved wooden box that lay flush with his skin.

For a moment Makoto had thought the wood was some sort of tattoo. But no, he could feel it now as he ran his hand over the wood. He felt the grain that threatened to give his hands splinters from running his skin in the wrong direction. This was wood. In his human body .

When did this happen?

Makoto’s mind flushed with panicked frenzy. He could barely hear his peers discussing his predicament as he fumbled with the box implanted into his skin. He poked around the edges, trying to understand how this happened. He picked and dug at where skin became wood, hoping to tear the foregin object out of him, hoping to shove his nails under the edges. But instead he found himself confused, the wood was perfectly fused with the skin around it. There was no healing gap, no stitches, no blood. It was just wood. And just skin. It was as though this box was a natural part of his anatomy, rather than something invasive forced upon him.

God. Now that he was paying more attention he realized that the wood had feeling . He could feel his own hands running up and down as though there were nerves attached. He gently knocked against the box, listening to the hollow noise like knocking on a table. He wondered at what point his body became something unknown to him. How could such a forgein and significant change happen without him realizing? How long has this been happening, forming right underneath his skin?

Is this what happened to Sayaka?

Looking up, Makoto could see the crowd of wary and distrusting faces. They stared down at his chest, with similar questions on their mind.

“Naegi-kun,” Makoto took a deep breath when Kyoko called his voice, “What is that?”

He swallowed around the painful dryness in his throat, distantly registering how she repeated her earlier question. How long had she been asking him what this was?

He didn’t have the answer either.

“I-” he once again ran his hands over the wood, searching and searching for some sort of reasonable explanation. But reason stopped a while ago, when they all woke up in a locked school with no memories. And reason died along with Sayaka just a day ago, just before her corpse resurrected.

He watched as Celeste began to check over her own body, running her hands over her chest, her arms, her legs. Searching for any strange happenings that might have appeared. The others quickly followed suit, everyone presently unsure about who and what was normal anymore. The others didn’t find anything. The only strange thing in the room was-

“Anyone else notice that everything fucked up around here has to do with Naegi?” Leon asked.

“I don’t even know what’s going on…!” Makoto cried out.

Hifumi backed away from Makoto, holding his hands up over his mouth, “I’m sorry Naegi Makoto-dono, but if you’re telling me that Maizono Sayaka-dono became a monster and now you have something strange on you… Well, it’s easy to see where this is going…”

“What?” Makoto was completely dumbfounded.

“Like a survivor hiding a zombie bite.” Celeste sighed, shaking her head. “For all we know, this is contagious and Naegi has just exposed us all.”

“Or,” Leon said, “He’s the cause of all of this.”

“If he is the cause of all of this, I fail to understand why he would reveal himself so easily.” Kyoko reasoned.

“Maybe he’s just an idiot.” Byakuya said.

Did Makoto’s body belong to himself anymore? Was this empty husk a cheap imitation of the body he once took for granted? Makoto’s mind felt like it was retreating, a dizzying swarm of black dots ran over his vision, and he had to dig his nails into his skin to sweep them away. He grounded himself back to the messy situation he was in.

Makoto shuddered at the feeling of being stared at. Junko was watching him with a blank, haunting expression. He had no idea what she was thinking. It was odd not being able to understand the emotions of the most open person in the group. She watched him, blue eyes dead with a gaze of nothingness, glued to the unknown entity housed in Makoto’s body.

He raised an eyebrow at her, hoping to prompt some sort of response he could handle. Instead she continued to stare. Her mouth parted slightly as though she began to formulate a thought to voice, but it was never spoken.

Makoto looked away.

As the others discussed whether or not Makoto was a monster in the making, he pushed his hands into his hoodie pockets, digging nails into his palms. He looked back down to the box in his skin, wondering if there was something more to it than decoration. Then, he felt a strange itchiness up his arm, right under the wrist. Along with it was a cold metallic feeling that he hadn’t noticed before, not until he focused properly on how he was feeling. All these alien feelings crept under his skin, under his own body and he needed to tear them out .

“I think we should focus on more important things.” Sakura said, as Makoto tugged up the sleeve of his right arm. “The power has gone out, and we have no idea where this monster has gone.”

Makoto scratched up and down his arm, but froze at the feeling of something strangely solid. As if his day couldn’t get any worse, there was the indentation of a copper key pressed into his wrist. Unthinkingly, he once again began to pick at the edges where metal met skin, digging his nails underneath and bloodying up the edges where the skin lay. This time, unlike with his chest, the key popped out of the indent with proper prodding. He gasped as the key fell to the ground, interrupting everyone with its loud ringing noise.

“... A key?” Aoi asked. “.... A Key?!”

“There is a keyhole in the box! Er- his chest? The box chest!” Kiyotaka announced.

Makoto desperately felt the urge to hide away in his hood, “We’re going to put a key inside of me ?”

“ That is the part that freaks you out?” Mondo said.

“I-I mean…” Chihiro untied and retied her collar ribbon, “We should at least try it right? I understand being uncomfortable, I would too…b-but we have to understand this…”

She was right. Makoto knew she was right before she’d even spoken. But dammit! He hadn’t even gotten the chance to process that he had a wooden box in his body let alone the fact that there’s a key in his wrist or that the box could possibly open!

He ran his hands over his face, taking in a shuddering breath and murmuring self reassurances to himself. Part of him wanted to write off this entire experience as some sort of fever dream and wait to wake up, but it was far too realistic. He felt that key fall out of him. The indent in his arm felt strangely empty without it.

Kyoko slowly bent down, grabbed the key off the floor, and stood back up. She dusted it off, flicking it with her gloved hands, then placed it into the palm of Makoto’s hand.

‘Damn it all’ Makoto thought, ‘This is insane.’

Makoto pointedly kept his gaze fixed upon the key in his hand. He ignored Leon’s tense stance, and how he kept his hands in fists by his side. He ignored Junko’s intent, unblinking stare. He ignored Kyoko’s curiosity. He ignored the fears of his friends. He ignored the fears of himself. He brought the key into the slot, hands trembling at the feeling of metal pressing inside of him. He turned the key, unable to hold back a flinch at the loud pop that came with it. The wood flew open like a door, exposing a hollow space in the cavity of Makoto’s chest. A drawer. It was a drawer. And inside of it was a single object. It was a heart, fully exposed to the air and bloodless. It would be a ghostly, decellularized white if not for the strong golden light it was emitting, enough to illuminate the room, but not so much that it hurt to stare at. It was like a candle, in a way. But instead of a flame’s constant flickering, the heart had a constant heartbeat.

Makoto went pale.

Have you ever seen a human heart before? Have you ever seen the way that this organ constantly thrums along in its efforts to keep you alive? Maybe you’ve seen diagrams. Or maybe you’ve seen it in health class. But there is nothing that could prepare you for the sight of a cardiac muscle collapsing in on itself with the effort it takes to beat. Because yes, you’re fully aware that a heart beats. You feel it every day, consciously or unconsciously. But you don't suspect that the human heart is actually asymmetrical. An imperfect organ propelling an imperfect creature through life. And the way it beats-- the very action that gives one life-- looks like a seize. With each dull ba-BUM, it coughs oxygen-rich blood out and swallows down even more with each gasping retch. Your heart suffocates so you do not.

Pulse is a gentle word but the beats of a heart are anything but. The entire organ constricts and sputters. Its movements are untrustworthy and unkempt yet still at its own rhythmic pace. It expands enough to be seen outside of the open chest cavity. Its supposedly natural and healthy function looks ready to give out at any moment with the energy it takes to do its never ending job. But as terrifying as the motion of an actively beating heart was to watch, Makoto didn’t want to imagine watching this little golden heart go still.

He covered his mouth, unable to speak at the heavy feeling rising in his throat. He could feel cold sweat down his neck, but couldn’t stop staring at what he could only assume was his own beating heart, found in the chest cavity that was not his own. He tried to swallow down the bile that bubbled up, curling in on himself as he tried to comprehend his dilemma.

“Is that going to happen to us?!”

“Does that hurt , Naegi-kun?”

“Nothing makes any fucking sense anymore!”

“A…ah…..ahh…” Makoto couldn’t muster up much else. His legs felt weak. His fingers felt numb. He could see fuzziness on the edges of his vision. The heart in his chest quickened it's repulsing throbbing, distantly he heard someone cry out in distress.

“Wh-what the…” Leon was pale, but still clung to the coattails of his anger, “What the fuck?!”

Leon clenched and unclenched his fists. “This doesn't make any sense, this can’t be happening...!”

Makoto backed himself up against the wall, he forced his legs to stay steady despite the growing urge to sink to the floor. He wanted nothing more than to sit down, and wallow in his ever-growing panic attack. He tried to swallow with his dry throat, but only ended up choking. He nearly spat out bile, and the burn traveled to his nose when he refused.

Leon pointed to Makoto, “What the fuck are you, Naegi?!” He screamed. He screamed, and Makoto wanted to scream back.

Makoto didn’t fucking know either god damnit! But Leon continued his accusatory yells. And oh, what Makoto wouldn’t give to cover his ears and his eyes and hide away from this all. Did Leon think he enjoyed this? Did the others? They stared at him, they stared at his own exposed heart with variations of fear on their faces. And the only reason Makoto could see those faces was because of his own freakshow glowing heart, which beat heavy and fast in the wooden drawer.

A hand grabbed at Makoto’s wrist and pulled him forward. If it hadn’t been for the sensation of acrylic nails pressing against his wrist, he would have assumed it was Kyoko. Kyoko had seemed to be the only person willing to stand by his side - until now that is. Because here he was, staring into the dead eyes of Junko Enoshima. Her face seemed pale and haunted. For a moment, Makoto forgot his own plight and felt the urge to reassure her. She looked downright traumatized .

“What is this?” She whispered, sounding like an empty shell of herself. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

She reached with her other hand, her hand with a chipped nail. She reached she reached she reached for his very own beating heart.

Makoto tried to hold back the gasp, pressing himself further away from her. He nearly slammed the door on her hand.

She had an apologetic expression on her otherwise bland face, “I’m sorry” she whispered.

“I-” Makoto was cut off by Byakuya, who decided it was his turn to put in his review of Makoto’s issue.

He had a hand over his chin, examining Makoto with an uncomfortable amount of interest in his eyes. Now that he was less focused on himself and Junko, he could see that Celeste seemed to hold the same interest.

He shuddered.

“I think we should give Naegi-kun some space.” Kyoko attempted to intervene, but Byakuya paid her no mind as usual.

“I think we should question how on earth the man is alive.” He said. Byakuya leaned in, watching the heart grotesquely do its job without any semblance of being squeamish. “Last time I checked a functioning heart needed things like veins and blood vessels, not a wooden box.”

“Yes, this is all anatomically incorrect!” Hifumi yelled out suddenly, but continued to cower behind Celeste. “That is to say, it’s anatomically correct if we’re going for a realistic story. I mean- How is Naegi Makoto-dono even breathing? Doesn’t the box also go through where his lungs should be? And his rib cage!”

Byakuya gave a light laugh, as though this was all some sort of dark joke, “I guess he doesn’t need the structural support with that wooden box.”

“C-Can-” Makoto tried to will his teeth to stop chattering with anxiety, “Can we t-take this a little more seriously, please?”

“And can you all get the hell away from him?!” Leon yelled, “If you all catch this weird shit, I’m out of here!”

Byakuya rolled his eyes, “As if someone as prestigious as me would fall victim to some fictional nonsense.”

“Fictional…?! Togami-kun, I am right here!”

“Take it out of the box.” Byakuya said- no- Byakuya ordered.

“What…?”

“Enoshima had an interesting idea there when she tried to grab it. It doesn't seem to be attached to anything, and I want to see what happens when it’s outside.”

Celeste smiled cheerfully, “If you’re too skittish to grab it yourself, I will have Yamada assist you.”

“I will?!”

Makoto slammed the door shut, shoulders jumping at the feeling of it clicking into place as he hugged his chest close. The shine of the door began to dim, but he could still feel the way it beat. “No one is grabbing anything...!” Makoto yelled.

He heard a shrill yelp followed by “S-some weird bulls-s-shit happens and everyone turns into p-p-perverts!” Without his heart illuminating the room, Makoto couldn’t see Toko anymore. But he had a sneaking suspicion that she still had her eyes covered. “T-t-t-t-turn that light back on! Pervy N-N-Naegi!”

“U-uhm, excuse me.” Chihiro’s small voice politely piped up. “But…i-isn’t Maizono-san still…a threat?”

Leon cussed, “Naegi’s been distracting us this entire damn time.”

“We must choose wisely what to focus on. This is a dangerous situation.” Sakura said.

“I say we focus on a certain little monster.” Celestia said, “We can worry about Naegi later, but for now we need to get the lights back on and know where the threat is. So that we can go back to a normal life.”

Makoto could hear someone tsk. His wrist prickled with pins and needles.

“So, what? We’re just going to ignore him?” Leon hissed.

“We have to play our bets correctly, and I know how to play my cards. Maybe later the tables will turn, but for now I say we use Naegi and figure out this Monster Maizono situation.”

“This is insane…” Aoi mumbled.

“Swimming bimbo is right!” Leon yelled.

“If Kuwata’s right and Naegi is the bad guy here then how can we use him?” Mondo asked.

“Last time I checked, Naegi was the only one who’s actually seen this supposed monster. So, if you’d like to go in blindly, by all means, be my guest.” Makoto was beginning to wonder where the borders of fake and real lie on Celeste.

“We will launch the investigation we spoke of!” Kiyotaka said. “If we all work together, then we can protect each other and neutralize the threat with minimal harm!”

“Can you make fighting a zombie sound any lamer?” Mondo sighed.

Makoto flinched at the feeling of a shoulder brushing against his. Two thin hands lifted to lightly grip at his arm: just to let him know they were there. “Naegi-kun…” When Aoi spoke, it was right next to his ear. “I know it’s a lot to ask but like… I mean c’mon! It’s pitch black in here...! Can you please use your uhm…”

“You want to use it as a light source...?”

“It is a light source.” Byakuya said.

“A light source that we don’t understand.” Kyoko countered. There was a beat of silence. “... However, it does seem as though we will temporarily need to rely on it. We should do so with caution.”

Makoto wanted to cry. “You can’t be serious?”

“I’m sorry, Naegi-kun… but could I please ask you to open the chest again?”

“This is...! This could be my actual living heart ..! Having that exposed has to be bad,right?!”

Aoi squeezed his shoulder, and he forced himself to take a deep breath.

“I understand that this is distressing.” As Kyoko spoke, Aoi squeezed his shoulder again. But she was mistaken, Makoto was not discomforted by Kyoko’s medical-talk tone. “However, we need your help.”

They needed his help. Everyone was counting on him. He brought them all here so that they could be prepared and live , not so that they could sit in the dark while Makoto panicked over his own distress. He took another deep breath and steadied his sweating hands. He had to do it. He had to help everyone, even if it meant taking a step into the unknown. Like Celeste said, this was a bet. A gamble. But Makoto Naegi would be damned to not take this gamble, not when the other option was to be sitting ducks in the dark.

And besides… he could help the others. And maybe, just maybe he could help Sayaka too.

“Okay.” Makoto whispered, mainly to himself.

“Okay.” he said again, louder now. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I wasn’t trying to be selfish, I promise.”

“It’s not selfish.” Aoi mumbled, “If I were you I’d be freaking out…”

“What matters most is getting something done.” Makoto moved to grab the key when he felt pins and needles press further into his wrist.

That entire time, Junko’s acrylic nails had been wrapped around his wrist. She didn’t dig them in, but it was clear she was unwilling to let go. What could… she want with him? It was strange, Makoto couldn’t get a read on her at all anymore, when he used to be able to understand her perfectly.

Without letting go of his wrist, she slid her other arm down Makoto’s. In his hand he felt a familiar copper-cold metal. His key.

Unlike Aoi, her reassurance was a silent thing, unnerving to those unwilling to look deeper.

Makoto unlocked his chest, and a bright golden light filled the room once again.

“F-F-F-Finally!” Toko yelled out, “About t-t-time! Making s-someone like me wait i-in the dark for you to m-man up…!” Her words were harsh through grit teeth. “N-Now get that d-disgusting thing aw-away from m-m-me!” She was still unwilling to look, facing away from Makoto. Squeamish, maybe? Judging by the way she started mumbling and pulling at her hair he guessed it was something worse than being squeamish.

Aoi pulled off of his shoulder and faced him with a quiet softness, “Thank you, Naegi.”

The light glowed a bit warmer.

Once Aoi had pulled away and returned to Sakura’s side, Junko looked down at Makoto and whispered into his ear.

“I am going to protect you.”

She took his arm, and gently pressed the key back into the indent. It slotted back into place like it was home. When did Junko get a hold of the key again…? Makoto’s spiraling mind was thrown to a halt by the sheer abnormality. How was he meant to react to such a meaningful statement being suddenly thrown in front of him, yet with a tender caution.

“So stay by my side, okay?”

Makoto watched her in muted surprise. He felt if he so much as blinked, he would miss all the secret signals Junko was throwing his way. Her expression did not change, her intense stare interrogated his very being. He wanted to reach inside her thoughts and get a better glimpse at the blurred line. A single question flooded his mind: "why". But how could he voice that when he wasn't fully sure who he was talking to? He wasn't fully sure about anything anymore. He could only stare back at Junko, as though the shadows on her face could spell out an answer.

She pursed her lips together for just a fraction of a second. Then she smiled at Makoto, the typical Junko smile he’d come to know. It was bright, a little smug, and curious. He had this genuine smile memorized, it was one only Junko could pull off.

“Like, this whole thing is weird right? You need someone like me by your side. And I wanna have front row seats to finding out what the fuck is going on.”

It feels so foreign now. He was speaking to a stranger. There were no longer any flaws in her demeanor, she was perfect and wholey Junko Enoshima. So, why did it feel like she was wearing the face of another person? Why did Makoto feel as though he were speaking to the dead all over again?

When was she going to let go of his wrist?

“Naegi-kun,” Kyoko called out to him. Makoto forced himself to look away from the shadows casted onto Junko’s face. “We need you at the front.”

Makoto peeled her hand off him. It took some effort- she was a lot stronger than he’d realized. It wasn’t so much that he made her let go… it was that she realized he wanted her to stop. He awkwardly shuffled up to the front of the group by Kyoko’s side, trying desperately to ignore the many pairs of eyes staring intently into the back of his head. There was no privacy in this world, not anymore.

Makoto opened the door to his shower.

Not long after leaving, with Makoto’s heart illuminating the way, the group found themselves by the breaker box in the laundry room. The face of the circuit breaker had been torn off the box, with the interior black from electric burns. The wires had been to shreds, blood dotting them alongside the charred rubber of wire encasing. The metal itself was hot to the touch, the circuit breaker had been overheating following the attack.

They were stuck without light.

They had managed to find some candles and matches in the supply closet of the kitchen, which were passed out among the others so that they could all travel individually. However, for now, it seemed as though Makoto was the only consistent source of light they could find.

“Be careful”, Kyoko told him, “You are a vital step in all of this.”

Junko’s eyes from across the room seemed to share the same sentiment.

Makoto sighed as he turned the water faucet on. He stared at the floor, where the body had been. Where he had collapsed upon discovering it. He stared at where the body had been upon its inhuman resurrection.

Makoto had turned on the water, but didn’t stand under it. He was still fully dressed. He didn’t want to see his own body anymore. And he didn’t want to imagine blood washing down the drain like it must have when they scrubbed this place clean. It was scrubbed clean, again. Clean enough that Makoto couldn’t find any traces in the shower anymore, only in the scratches of his walls. So why did the byproducts of such a mess exist still? Why was her body roaming? Why was Makoto in such disarray?

He unzipped, then unzipped his hoodie. He felt grimey and sweaty and gross. He needed a shower. But it felt like… defiling her last moments.

Makoto ran his hand through his hair. He needed a shower. He couldn’t neglect his own health over this. It would help no one. He unzipped his hoodie and stood underneath the hot water, pressing his head against the wall and watching the water go down the drain.

He pointedly avoided staring at the mirror, or at his chest. He needed peace, for just one moment.

He managed to get his hygiene in check. He felt a bit silly for being proud of himself, but it was important and necessary. Keeping that up was the first step to being okay, even if he refused to stare too deeply into the corner of the room.

He dried his hair with a towel, and pulled on his pants. It had been a long day, and he needed to go to bed. He needed to be prepared for the worst, so that he could do his best. Like they had all agreed, he would listen carefully for any signs of disarray from the others. He would be ready to help at a moment's notice.

Light filled up the room.

Makoto flinched, looking down at his chest. The door was once again bright. It changed the cold feeling of the shower, covering it with a warm glow. From a prison cell to a second chance.

But… why ?

Makoto didn’t understand. Nothing felt different.

He unlocked the door, watching the little golden heart beat.

Nothing looked different.

There was an offbeat knock at the door. “Naegi-kun?”

Kyoko? He heard her voice ring out. It echoed off the walls. Her voice was always a comfort, cold but in a refreshing way. But what could she want at this hour? Was there something she wanted to talk about without the others around?

“Ah, one second, Kirigiri-san!” he was glad the walls were so thin, he might have missed her call otherwise. He scrambled to put on a shirt. Only a shirt. He figured she’d want to know about the science of his weird glowing chest drawer.

“I need to talk to you, Naegi-kun.”

So, there was something important then. “I’ll be right there!” He was tied up in his own sleeve, struggling to get it over his shoulder with how rushed he was.

“You left your door open, Naegi-kun.”

Makoto frowned, how could he still be such a clutz when there was an emergency like this? The constant effort of juggling emotions and realities left him spiraling, enough that he slipped up such a simple task. He could practically hear his mom and sister scolding him for not being careful. He could be a fairly unlucky guy.

Makoto had half a mind to thank Kyoko for not barging into his room when she’d seen the door cracked open. She seemed the type to care little for social cues, and instead go barging in wherever she needs to be. Looks like he judged her too soon.

“Sorry about the wait, Kirigiri-....Kirigiri-san?”

Makoto looked right. And then he looked left. There was no one in sight. Just the darkness of a creaking building, only the light from his chest to illuminate it. He wondered how the others were faring with candle light and matches. He hoped no one accidentally started a fire…

“Kirigiri-san?” He repeated. Did she ding-dong ditch? Well. Not only was that rude, but it was odd coming from her.

No. His heart pitter pattered in his chest. There was no way Kyoko would call for him and then ditch. The heavyset burn of nausea and dread began to stir in Makoto's stomach, and he found himself detesting that anyone could visualize his anxiety just by staring at his exposed weakness.

He forced himself to take one step forward. His hand gripped his door with a whiteknuckled grip, refusing to let go for a moment lest he lose his way forever. He had to tear his hand from the wood, mourning the absence of security instantly. Makoto rubbed at his chest, hoping to force the heartbeat to stall for even just a breath. He felt like he couldn't think. He needed to listen for Kyoko, but his heart was so distracting all he could hear was its pounding.

Because it beat it beat it beat it beat it beat and it never stopped beating.

A violently repugnant smell brought heaves out of Makoto’s lungs - the unwelcome distraction he begged for. He leaned over and grasped at his nose to hide away from the smell of rotten meat left in the sun. He tried to fight the urge to run back to his room. The scent dug claws into his trachea with its cocktail of putrid scents. Mothballs, rotten garlic, decomposing cabbage, sulfur. Beneath it all was the hint of something…tangy and fruity. The comfort of sweetness was not found here. Through the tears that the odor brought to his eyes, he struggled to search for the figure he was following.

"K-Kirigiri-san?"

"Naegi-kun?"

Makoto thickly swallowed when he'd reached the end of the hallway. He craned his head around the corner. No Kyoko. Just him. … Just him?

No, there was someone with him. Someone who hadn't been with him for a while now.

She had been impossible to see when she blended in with the darkness, especially with her hair draped over her face and her skin an odd grayish tone. Her skin looked… fake . Saggy. Almost moldy. Wet.

Makoto took a step backwards. He felt rooted to the ground. The only thing holding him back from running to his room was the sense that Kyoko could be nearby calling for his help beneath the suffocating air of death.

But… she hadn't sounded like she was in danger…

Sayaka's head snapped up towards him. He couldn't see much of her face through the wall of hair blocking her expression. A part of him felt grateful that he couldn't see her eyes. He saw her dried lips part. He saw her inorganic hand reach out to him.

"Naegi-kun."

Makoto almost cried.

Her breaths sounded like there was gravel entwined into the flesh of her throat while her voice spoke with perfect clarity. Her head was tilted towards his direction, and Makoto watched as rage slowly left her dismantled body.

He wished he could've been there for her that night.

Sayaka's hand grew closer, bright light showing the paleness of it all, a stark contrast to her swollen red legs and feet where the blood pooled post circulation. He wondered if it hurt to walk. He wondered if she could feel at all.

"Maizono-san…" Makoto's heart was in his throat, "You recognize me, don't you? You're still in there, aren't you?"

She pulled her hand away and without another word to him, she turned around. He called her name out again, but she just limped away until he couldn't hear her heavy footsteps anymore.

The light in his chest dimmed and went cold.

The last sight Makoto had seen in its light had been the spots of blood left behind by her.

He went back to his room.

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