DanganChat & One-shots

Bad End, Bad Dream

TW: self-harm

The morning after Kyoko's execution had been an unforgivable one. The despair had set in too deep once they realized the Mastermind had beat them. And when they realized and began to remember what the world had become outside? There would have been no chance of any of them convincing the others to leave. In a way, everyone got what they wanted.

Makoto and the others maintained a sense of security and safety.

Junko relished in the despair of being trapped in the role of the mastermind of the tragedy at Hope's Peak Academy.

But there was always a limit. Mistakes were made, arguments were had, and some decisions became irreversible. If someone fell ill, they would have to hope it wasn't fatal and contagious. If someone was severely hurt, first aid could only do so much.

And children only made that reality far more real.

Toko had died during childbirth. Her anxiety alone caused her heart enough trouble, but the fear of killing her own child due to Genocide Jack had sent her over the edge. Ryo was the firstborn of what would soon be three children. Time didn't really seem to matter in the school, in this new "life", but they tried to mark the years with birthdays as fairly as they could.

Byakuya had just turned twenty-six when Ryo was born. It wouldn't be long before Hina would have the next two children, Ren and Yuuto.

"Can you believe we're almost thirty?" Makoto asked, chuckling. He sat directly across from Byakuya, sipping his morning coffee.

No. He couldn't. Byakuya couldn't believe that they had chosen to stay trapped inside this place and let Kyoko die. "Time passes so quickly. Ryo will be turning three this year, as well."

Makoto nodded, "I can't believe your prediction was right."

Yasuhiro laughed, entering the dining hall holding his son, Ren. "Hey man, thirty percent! I'm telling you, it happens more than you think!"

"Hey, are you alright?" Makoto tapped Byakuya's arm. He hadn't realized he was simply staring off, thinking about an alternate universe that had since expired from possibility.

"I'm fine. I must not have slept well."

"Hey, I get that. Three-year-olds are crazy, man."

Byakuya didn't acknowledge Hiro's response. Makoto noticed the lack of any kind of emotion. He had noticed how much older Byakuya looked, and how the exhaustion contributed largely to that. "Take a day off. We can watch Ryo for you."

Byakuya shook his head, "I'm not going to just push my son away because I'm tired."

"Just go. Really. He's our kid, too." Makoto said, smiling. He watched Byakuya reluctantly nod and leave the dining hall. Worry gnawed at his stomach and mind noticing Byakuya's lack of posture. Kyoko, I wish you were here. What do I do?

Byakuya sat on his bed in his dark bedroom. They hadn't bothered to ask to see the outside, choosing to leave the bolted metal plates on the windows. He couldn't recall the last time he felt genuine sunlight on his skin. His shirt sleeve began to catch the dried raised skin on the inner portions of his arms. Byakuya was surprised that even Makoto hadn't noticed. The soiled bandaging began to itch when his mind remembered its existence.

Finally standing up after an hour had passed, Byakuya entered his bathroom and ran the water, waiting patiently for the steam to rise. Unwrapping the bloody bandaging from around his wrists, Byakuya discarded them into the trash and gently stuck his bare arms under the sink faucet. Ever since the one and only night he spent with Fukawa, this practice had become a ritual. After every so many mind-numbing weeks passed, the urge arose once more. Once, he had placed a knife to his own throat.