Execution - The Melancholy of Aimi Yokota
Blackness. For a few moments, the projection was nothing but a dark hole, but it soon flickered to life with an image of a high school classroom, entirely ordinary. It's full with students working quietly at their desks, Aimi seated in the middle of the class. It looks like she's asleep…? A boy next to her reaches out and shakes her shoulder, and she starts to stir, head rising up. She blinks, confused, and rubs at her eyes as the boy next to her chuckles.
“What, were you up all night studying? Wouldn't expect any less from President Yokota! Really though, Aimi-chan, that’s the first time I've ever seen you fall asleep in class.”
Aimi still looks confused, perhaps a little distressed, before realization dawns on her face, and she exhales happily. That's when you come to realize it, too- Aimi thinks she woke up from a bad dream. She laughs, turning to the boy and shaking her head.
“Haha, no, I’m just pretty sleepy today. I was having a nightmare, actually, so thanks for waking me up. I was a Hope’s Peak student, then-”
She’s interrupted by the teacher clearing his throat from the front of the class.
“Miss Yokota? Please read page sixty eight for us.”
Aimi’s eyes dart down to her desk, where a textbook is open. Nodding at the teacher, she stands up and steps beside her desk, holding up the book and starting to read aloud.
“- But what nobody knew was that the girl wasn't truthful at all. Try as she might, Aika had a rotten heart, and only acted good for other people. Despite her best efforts to be good, she was full of violent urges. She had an animalistic desire to hurt, to destroy, to rip apart. So even if she was able to fool everyone else, Aika knew her heart wasn't in it. And then what was the point?”
Aimi’s face takes on a slightly concerned tone, but she keeps reading, albeit slightly hesitantly.
“People were friends with her, but she wasn't their friend. Others troubled her greatly, and she couldn't bond with them properly. But in her attempts to be good, she pretended. Putting on her mask, Aika pretended to be the perfect girl- friendly, hard working, sociable. But you can't fool your own heart. Evil can't change.”
Aimi looks pale, her hands shaking slightly, and doubt is spreading across her face. Abruptly slamming her book down on the desk, Aimi turns on her heels and runs from the classroom, ignoring the confused murmurs among her classmates. Something is dawning on her, slowly but surely, and Aimi’s breath picks up rapidly as she runs down the school hallways. Somehow, it doesn't feel as though it's just because of her speed. She nearly stumbles as she gets to the set of stairs at the end of the hallway, feet pounding up them as she reaches wildly for the door. With a bang, Aimi flings open the doors to reveal the school roof, sputtering to herself about needing some fresh air.
Half running half stumbling over to the railing, Aimi all but collapses against it. Struggling to breathe, Aimi’s terror is unsuited to the happy, sunny day you can see on the roof. All the while, she’s snapping that golden band against her wrist. Snap. Snap. Snap.
“Dream, dream, it's a dream, just a dream, bad dream, you're okay, you're okay, it's fine-” Aimi is repeating a mantra to herself, trying to control her breathing and relax. For a moment, it looks like she's succeeding- right until a hand is placed on her shoulder. Aimi yelps, jerking around to get the hand off of her and see who it is. It looks like she doesn't like whoever it is.
Judging by her ear piercing scream, that is.
Before she can physically react, the new person has their hands wrapped around Aimi’s throat, pinning her against the railing. Aimi’s eyes are wide like dinnerplates, and she’s tearing up as the realization that none of this was a dream is dawning fully. The view pans out, showing the new person. A pretty girl with short black hair and an emotionless expression is holding her firmly. Aimi barely manages to squeak out a “M-Mariko…!” before the other girl squeezes tighter, cutting her off.
“Oh, Acchan. It didn't take you this long to realize it was fake, right? You’re supposed to be smarter than that. Clever enough to fool yourself into thinking someone as rotten as you is capable of good, but stupid enough to believe she's not actually going to die.”
Mariko leans in, pushing Aimi farther back. The hacky sacker’s feet lift off the ground, and Aimi makes a horrible hacking sound as she’s leant halfway over the railing. It's a long way down… Mariko keeps speaking.
“You’re cruel. You don't really feel love, right? You knew that. You acknowledged that. You wanted to be good, but you ended up becoming well-liked instead. Believe me, you can be one and not the other. Remember choosing social acceptance over kindness? Remember how your little group of friends bullied me into shutting myself in? I remember.”
Even farther over the railing. Mariko’s hands loosen slightly, and Aimi gasps for air, sputtering out words at the same time. “M-M-Mariko, I’m sorry! I’m terrible, I know, I know, but please… I was trying to be good, I did everything I-”
“Not good enough,” Mariko hisses, clamping down on the girl’s throat again. “I’m not the real Mariko, and you know that. I'm the part of you that sees you for the true monster that you can be, Aimi. Your heart is full of hatred. When was the last time you did something good for the sake of being good? You do it so that nobody will realize that you have such a violent heart, to fool yourself into thinking you're good. You're a truly awful person, Aimi Yokota. If anyone feels otherwise… Well, they're either oblivious to who you are, or they're just as bad as you.”
Aimi is openly weeping, sobs catching in her tightly held throat as Mariko holds her farther over the ledge. Most of her body, save for her legs, is now hanging off the edge of the school. Mariko’s grip on Aimi’s throat loosens, giving Aimi time to scream and babble pleas that are entirely incomprehensible. Mariko’s gaze hardens.
“You thought about killing yourself all the time, right? You knew death was best for someone like you. So I'll just help you out now. Goodbye to the liar, the coward, the murderer, Aimi Yokota. Remember- you wanted this.”
And Mariko throws the shrieking Aimi forwards, the girl sliding off the railing and over the edge of the building, still facing upwards. For a minute, it's quiet. Aimi’s face is staring upwards, allowing you to witness the subtle transition from terror to the start of acceptance. There’s no noise, save for the flutter of her clothes as she falls downwards.
Then there's a hideous crack as Aimi hits the ground, bones snapping as the concrete meets her skin. Someone else in the distance screams, and Mariko, still watching from above, purses her lips thoughtfully as she stares at Aimi, watching life flicker out of the hacky sacker. A gust of wind blows along, and Mariko floats along with it, dissolving into dust as it carries all traces of her away. It's only a minute until Aimi’s eyes stop moving, leaving her entirely still, the start of what seems to be acceptance forming on her face, now frozen that way forever.
And with that, the rest of the world around the girl breaks into dust, floating away like Mariko, and taking Aimi with it. The imaginary world of her execution fades into dust.
And with that, the projection disappears, fading away permanently- not unlike the world around Aimi did.
Aimi Yokota, SHSL Hacky Sacker, has been executed.
