Drew one of my favorite scenes from the first chapter of my fanfic! Hiyoko('s attitude) stinks!
Honestly there are so many other scenes I wanna draw but I don't want to spoil since they're later on in the fic 🥹. But for now, enjoy your daily dose of Hiyoko being rightfully bullied!
With the Snapdragons in Bloody Bloom, Chapter 1, Morning Glories
Below the cut is a snippet of the first chapter of my fanfiction, "With the Snapdragons in Bloody Bloom". It's a mixed cast AU taking place in a hypothetical third chapter of the killing game, where the hanahaki disease has become the new motive. The fic centers around Kokichi Ouma and Mikan Tsumiki as the main characters. If you're willing and have the time, please take a read and decide if you're interested!
“Now now now,” a sickeningly sweet voice rang out through the gymnasium, silencing the bickering. Everyone’s gaze turned to the stage, as Monokuma once more popped up in one of his ridiculous set ups. This time, it was a childishly produced set of what looked to be a flower shop. Monokuma held a fake watering can with beads on wire as water, pretending to tend to equally fake looking flowers.
In his usual theatrics, the monochromatic bear began to speak to himself, paying no mind to his captive audience. “Ahhh, flowers. They’re so lovely, aren’t they? Not because they’re pretty or anything, but because of how much spite they show! Even though they’re so delicate, they still tried evolving things to deter their natural predators. Tough stems, thorns, even poisons! They really give the middle finger to the rest of nature, huh? And yet, because they’re pretty, humans cut them down, leaving only the corpses. Really, humans are the worst, aren’t they?”
Monokuma’s speech was met with the usual silence, nobody amused by his words. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Instead, it was cut by an astronaut with spikey hair.
“Geeze, stop talking in riddles already! We don’t wanna hear any of your stupid delusions right now. Just cut to the chase and tell us why we’re here!” hollered Kaito, a fist raised in aggravation.
Monokuma wilted at the harsh words, the fake flowers beside him somehow wilting away as well into nothing but dust. “Aww, none of you kids can appreciate prose! I truly am an artist of despair- unappreciated in his time,” bemoaned the bear. He didn’t remain that way for long, however, quickly roaring back to life.
“I oughta cast you out here and now for speaking to your headmaster that way! The disrespect I’m made to endure,” he chided. Realizing what he just said, however, he quickly backtracks. “Ah, not literally. You’re still stuck here,” he corrects, tilting his head to the side with a paw raised to his split muzzle.
“Just get to the point,” interjected Maki, her terrifying glare directed at the bear. “What was the reason for all of that? I don’t expect a sadistic creature like you to have a soft spot for things like flowers,” she deadpanned.
That question seemed to be just what Monokuma wanted, as somehow his permanent smile widened. He tosses the flower shop set off stage, heading to its center to finally address the group. “Oh, nothing. It just so happens to relate to your newest motive.”
There it was. The confirmation everyone had been waiting for. That everyone had been hoping wouldn’t happen, even if they knew it was inevitable at this point. The tension in the room returned in full force, though the silence was broken much quicker this time.
“What do you speak of, foul beast? To imply that something as mundane and lowly as a flower could ever be the inspiration for something as foul as murder is the height of stupidity,” Gundham growled, arms crossed in annoyance. And yet, even as he proclaimed his disbelief, the bead of sweat on his brow gave away his unease.
Monokuma laughed at the rather verbose question, covering his mouth with his paws. “Oh? You don’t understand? Then maybe I should just out and say it! You all seem pretty dense, anyways,” he said, bouncing around on one foot.
Taking out a large pad of paper on an easel, Monokuma thwacked a pointer stick to a phrase printed onto the first sheet.
“The Hanahaki disease?!” exclaimed Tsumugi, her face paling at the thought. The outburst earned her odd looks from the others, however. It seemed as though she was the only one to have any reaction to the odd name at all. Looking between everyone’s bewildered faces, the cosplayer quickly shrunk in on herself.
“Um, pardon me, but I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of this hanahaki disease,” Sonia spoke up, stepping forward with interlaced fingers. “Is this the name of a disease specific to the Japanese language?” she asked, looking between her classmates.
It was Mikan’s turn to step forward now, clutching her hands to her chest. “No, it’s not that. I’ve never heard of this disease in my l-life,” she says, her anxious tone notably worse than usual. “M-Monokuma, what is this?”
Monokuma heaved a long suffering sigh. “Honestly, do you kids not read? Even just a little bit of romance, and you’d know exactly what this is,” he grumbled, before perking up once more. Flipping to the next page of the notepad, Monokuma thwacked his pointer stick to the board.
“Listen up,” he commanded, pointing to a crudely drawn diagram. It depicted an anatomical rendering of the lungs, with thorns and flowers growing inside them. Despite its poor quality, it was still rather visceral, the vines crawling up the throat. “Hanahaki quite literally means flower vomiting! The hanahaki disease causes flowers to grow in its victim’s lungs, slowly suffocating them and tearing up their insides! It gets its name from the pretty petals its victims cough up,” he said with a chilling glee.
“But what causes this disease in the first place?” asked Monokuma, stifling a laugh behind his hand. The notepad flips once more, showing a diagram of two people. One had a flower on their chest, while the other had none. Between them was a heart being held back by a wall.
“To put it simply, unrequited romantic love! As they grow within a person, those unsaid, unreturned feelings can fester and fertilize the growth of this beautiful little disease. The longer it goes unsaid, the more it rips and tears up their insides,” said Monokuma, hands on his stomach as he lightly bounced in place.
Those in attendance weren’t nearly as relaxed, a chill being sent down their spines. The very idea that a disease like this could exist was terrifying. The idea that it could have something to do with their next motive was even worse. That was, if it was even real.
Kokichi’s eyes narrowed for a split second, as he glanced over at Tsumugi. Gears were turning in his head, but he didn’t let it show for long. “Wow, that disease sounds so dramatic! It almost sounds like something out of fiction! No, actually, even more than that, it sounds like something only a total nerd would be into,” he laughed, smiling with an exaggerated level of energy.
“Indeed,” agreed Korekiyo, either not caring about the second half of Kokichi’s statement, or finding no fault in it. “Many stories of odd diseases exist in folklore across cultures. Ways of describing feelings and phenomena that cannot be explained with mere words, nor their science of the time,” he spoke, playing with the chain of his uniform.
“However,” he said coldly, narrowing his eyes at Monokuma, “I suspect that, given the nature of what you have said thus far, you are being much more literal.”
“Puhuhu, ever the perceptive bunch,” Monokuma laughed, tossing away the notepad and pointer stick now as well. It was time for him to finally get to the point. “I mention all of this because, well, there seems to be quite a few unrequited feelings that you all have between each other! I just took the liberty of infecting those harboring such feelings with this enchanting disease.”
Even though the words were expected, they still didn’t feel real. It was the obvious place that this demonstration was going- why else would Monokuma talk about some random fictional disease? But something like that-
“Do you really expect us to believe that? Forget whatever you’ve said and done before, saying you’ve infected us with some made up disease is such an obvious lie!” Mahiru protested, clutching at the strap of her camera. ”Besides, who would ever even be able to fall for someone else in a place like this?!”
Hiyoko looked up at Mahiru for a moment, eyes darting between the redhead and the bear on stage, before she stepped forward. “Y-Yeah! What idiot would be stupid enough to fall for someone else in a killing game? Someone like that would have already died of their own idiocy by now!” she cried out, grabbing at the edges of her kimono’s sleeves.
Monokuma doesn’t react to the outburst, merely covering his mouth with his paws once more. “Oh my, you all don’t think it’s possible, huh? But I’m sure you’ve noticed, haven’t you? How much time has passed since the last class trial?” he said in an all too amused tone.
The crowd quieted at that, silent glances being exchanged. Monokuma took that silence as his queue to continue. “I mean, really, is it so crazy to believe that people, trapped in the same place day in and day out, who went through such horrible hardships together, would gain feelings for one another? That’s like, a classic romance story setup!” he laughed.
“W… Whether we’d have feelings for each other aside, th-there’s just no way that a disease like that can actually exist! S-Something like unrequited love being the trigger for a disease is just unheard of! The idea that it could cause f-flowers to bloom in someone's lungs, it’s just- j-just-” Mikan stammered, clenching her hands together tight enough to turn her knuckles white.
“It’s kind of funny, you know,” Monokuma commented in a flat tone. “You all keep saying that you don’t believe it- as if that even really changes anything. Those who are infected aren’t going to magically be cured just because you don’t think it’s real. And I think they already have an idea of who they are, too,” he said, amusement returning to his voice at that last sentence.
“It’s only a matter of time before they start coughing up flowers- and when they do, I don’t think any of you will be able to say it’s fiction anymore,” he warned, laughing once again.
Shuichi then stepped forward, having been in deep thought since the motive was announced. “You say that, but… how is this a proper motive? You intentionally let those relationships develop naturally, right? That means that the chance is pretty high that their feelings are mutual! Even if this disease does end up being real, I’m sure they could just confess and-”
“Ah, no- I don’t think so,” Monokuma interrupted. Shuichi faltered, eyes widening in surprise. “What? What do you mean, no?!” demanded the detective. Monokuma was all too eager to respond, taking the notepad back out.
“You see, I modified the disease a little bit with that in mind! The moment that those unrequited feelings are rejected, a sort of doomsday switch is set off. The disease will advance at a rapid rate, suffocating and killing its victim within minutes! The same thing will happen with a disingenuous confession too- only true, actual love can cure this disease!” he explained.
“So, you can certainly try that, if you want to. But is it really worth the risk? I mean, can you just imagine the guilt? Knowing that someone died, all because you didn’t feel the same way they felt for you? I know I could, but you bunch?” he laughed, once more tossing away the notepad.
At that, nobody had any words. If this was a lie or a prank, it was one that was well thought out. And yet, that lingering, unsettling feeling remained. Because Monokuma had already proven he was capable of insane, seemingly impossible things. The exisals that were keeping them trapped here. The insane connections and power he would need to do half the things he’s been using to keep them compliant. At this point… was breaking the rules of basic biology really off the table?
“Well, I see that I’ve given you all a lot to think about, so I’ll be taking my leave now,” said Monokuma, disappearing off the stage as quickly as he had appeared. Once again, he had dropped a mental bomb on the ultimate students, and left them to clean up the pieces.
“What the fuck…” Kazuichi muttered, breaking the silence. “What the actual FUUUUUUUUCK?!”
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Aaaand that's where this snippet ends, but not the story! If you enjoyed this, please give the full fic a read on AO3 using the link below. I've been working very hard on it, and I'm really proud of how things are turning out. If you're willing to give the rarepair a chance, then I hope that you end up enjoying!
"I know a lot of people prefer it platonic or as family, but the two have such a fun dynamic in basically any setting especially when Kokichi has to deal with Mikan's more dangerous tendencies"
Honestly so true, Kokichi has the right blend of assertive and teasing I think Mikan would respond really well too along with the fact Kokichi would definitely demand her attention to prevent people from taking advantage of her. He wouldn't shut down her defensive reflexes about hurting herself, but instead more properly redirect them so she still feels noticed and seen. He would absolutely probably love to add a medic to DICE as well.
Kelaito
"Both are optimistic and hyperactive"
Can't argue with that, I don't know a lot about Omori but they're definitely both optimistic jocks who try to do what's best and help everyone and never give up! Who also both could probably use a bit more of an ability to read the room.
