Chapter 6- The Children we used to be

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You walked over to Mikan's room after you left the bathroom. You wanted to tell her to get some rest as you had heard her footsteps while you were in the bathroom.

Things seem to be looking good for once. Maybe since everyone was almost cured and no one else was infected, Monokuma's motive had failed after all.

When you approached Mikan's door, you barged in, forgetting to knock. Your biggest mistake.
What you saw, you were never ready to see, even if someone warned you about it beforehand.

Ibuki's motionless body was lying on Mikan's bed. There were dark purple bruises all around her neck and a paper bag lying close to her. You were about to scream when Mikan rushed into view, her face set in a look of utter horror.

But before you could react, she grabbed a bottle of an unknown substance from the medicine shelf, and threw it at you with force. It hit you on the head, causing a sharp pain on your temple, as blood dripped down and you fell to your knees. The strong scent of whatever chemical Mikan had flung at you completely filled your nostrils, handicapping your ability to think clearly.

Slowly, the chemicals creeped their way up to your head, obscuring your vision almost completely. You put one hand up to your forehead in pain, squinting to make sense of what Mikan's blurry figure was trying to do.
"Why...what-"

Your world blacked out, you could no longer force your eyes stay open.
Your body went limp as it fell to the floor with a dull thump, the chemicals having put you to sleep. Mikan walked over to your unconscious form and locked the door, cursing herself for not doing that before. She placed your head on her lap, caressing your bleeding head softly.
"I'm soooooo sorry...Y/N."
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"Are you okay?" A small, rosy cheeked girl enquired, holding out her tiny hand to a white haired child, sitting on the side of the street, bruised and broken.

The wind ruffled his messy hair, but only swayed the ends of her pigtails, neatly combed and braided. The sun behind them was sinking, painting the vast sky in hues of orange. When he looked up at her, he smiled and took her hand, grasping it tightly to stand up.

"Why do they always bully you?"

"Haha, I have no idea. Maybe it's because...my parents are dead."

"But that is no reason to bully someone!"

"I know, I know...but people seem to be cruel to less fortunate individuals more than anyone else...it could be the way of the world or just my bad luck, who knows?"

She looked at him, his face still smiling widely despite the cuts and dirt on his pale face, having participated in a one sided fight with the neighborhood bullies who just never seemed to leave him alone. She sighed, and looked at him with large and angry eyes.

"Well, you must stand up for yourself! If you don't they shall mistreat you forever!"

"Ah...I would, but I'm too weak. It isn't something I can help...I've had this disease since I was a baby. I'd rather not stand up for myself."

The child reached out her hand to him again, not to help him up this time, but to shake his hand as a gesture of new found friendship.
"Well then, I'LL stand up for you from now on! I'm Y/N L/N, your new protector and saviour! Now tell me your name, weakling!"

The small white haired boy looked at her in awe and surprise, her determination almost radiating off her; and wrapping itself around him, like a warmth he had never felt.
He couldn't help it. Despite the pain, his smile parted, blossoming into a toothy grin.

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