Danganronpa: Locked Doors of Despair

Epilogue Part 3: Of Surprising Visits

Sayuri, Two years post-release

Days are nice now, and slow. Time has gracefully taken us each by the hand and guided us toward versions of ourselves we can feel more at peace with. At least, I certainly hope so. I am generally a bit more distant from my former-WDR compatriots than some of the others are with one another, but from what I've heard, things are going well.

As for me, I would say I enjoy life with a certain sensitivity now. Less wildly active, more passively observant of the world around me. I'm still keen on living a poet's life, full of enriching experience, but I believe I am gradually figuring out how to do so without getting in much trouble. I am learning to recognize consequences before I throw myself headfirst into discovery. I'm in university now, double-majoring in creative writing and literature. I'm really green to it; I'm just starting out. There's lots of reading, as one can imagine. That's what I'm doing now, actually. I'm housewatching for my parents whilst they go on vacation this weekend, and they gave me permission to let Setsuna over, too. We both read separately, but I rest my head on their lap while we do.

The doorbell rings, which makes me curious. I'm not expecting visitors. "Who could that be?" I voice aloud.

"Probably just a salesperson," they respond logically.

"What are they selling? Is it a scam?" I ask, rising from my ever-so-comfy position.

"You have no sense of self-preservation, my dear. Hold on a moment, I'm coming, too." They glide toward me in that effortlessly graceful way, sea-green t-shirt dress flowing slightly behind them. With a smile, I head toward the door and open it gently.

A familiar face, crowned with curly orange hair and partially hidden behind large circular glasses, smiles nervously at me. "Bisque? Is that you? My, how long has it been since I've seen your face in person? Come in, won't you?"

"Ah! Um! Hi! Thanks for having me despite me not giving you any notice. I got you little strawberry shortcake bites."

"BISQUE!" comes an enthusiastic cry from a few paces behind me.

"Oh! Is that Suna? I haven't actually met them in person yet!"

My significant other then barrels past me to enthusiastically embrace my old friend. They even go so far as to lift him up and twirl him in the doorway. Bisque, the poor darling, seems to get the wind knocked out of him, but swiftly adjusts and hugs back. "Ah, sorry! I've gotten quite ahead of myself, huh? Excuse me for skipping the formalities. I'm Setsuna Kikuchi. Third year art history major. Dating this little button for four months." They put Bisque down and brush off his shoulders chummily.

Bisque laughs, looking up into Suna's yellow-green eyes. "Haruto Gima. Second year ceramics student, happily single for now."

"Don't forget internationally-regarded artist!" Suna winks. "You're too damn humble!" The two shake hands firmly as though they didn't already know all of this about one another. Truthfully, were it not for the fact that Bisque and I share some memories, Suna might know him better than I do at this point. They're his mega-fan, and they were utterly thrilled when I revealed we're friends. The two have been online pals for a while now.

I move in to hug him myself, and he warmly reciprocates. "I'm being a terrible host, aren't I? May I offer you anything? Water? Tea? Snacks?"

"Do you have decaf tea?" he asks, softly shaking out his limbs to decompress from the hugs.

"How hot do you take it?"

"Warm, but don't burn me, please." He sticks his tongue out playfully, taking his shoes off to step further inside. He sits down on the mat at the dining room table and pats his legs in a rhythmic motion. I can't quite tell whether it's out of contentment, excitement, or anxiety. Whilst I boil the water, I can hear Suna start to chat him up about pottery and the history of certain techniques. The conversation gets louder and faster as they go, the tried and true signals that they're getting riled up.