Danganronpa: Locked Doors of Despair

Epilogue Part 4: Of Peaceful Days

[A/N] Generally speaking, the epilogue is meant to be warm and happy, but I will say, content warning survivor's guilt in the second segment. Also, guys, next part will be the very last part of LDOD! I'll try to get it done in the next three days, since the 8th will be the 2-year anniversary of LDOD existing! I need to make more FTEs and finish my playlists, and then we can talk through what comes next. I may also do some editing to earlier parts. But thank you for sticking with me!

Tozen

The alarm on her phone rings idly; it's not a particularly annoying ringtone, set instead to a wind chime, gentle but loud enough to do its job. I groan softly, squeezing tighter to keep her in my arms. She's so warm. She giggles in that melodic way and pries herself free, but not before kissing me on the forehead. "Mmmph, fine, alright. Time to start the day."

"Since when are you the sort to ask for five more minutes?" she teases.

"Since you started coming over at night. We never stop talking until one of us passes out," I retort. "Stay. I can make you breakfast." It's a mostly empty plea that we go through every day; she needs to get back to her circus for practice, she'd love to, but she can't, she'll miss her bus.

Instead of our usual routine, she impishly blocks her mouth with a hand. "Did you happen to take notice of the time?"

I check my phone– it's an hour and a half earlier than she usually wakes up. No wonder I'm so tired! "You bothered to do that just so I can...?" I trail off, touched.

"Your meals are always positively scrumptious. I adore them." With those words comes the half-veiled sentiment that she expresses often, just in other ways. I adore you.

"Right! Well, I won't waste this. I'll make you a proper Japanese breakfast!" I throw my apron on over my pajamas. Fortunately, miso soup doesn't take nearly as long as any other kind. In the meantime, I can make rice, brew tea, and get all the pickled vegetables out. Azumi gets dressed before coming back. She washes the dishes as I finish using them, and old habits make it so that I want to tell her to sit down, let me handle it, she's a guest. But her expression is serene, and she hums gently, and we do things for each other not out of guilt or fear of abandonment, but because we want one another to be happy.

We sit down to enjoy our meal, giving thanks, and then she pipes up excitedly. "My darling, why not come with me today? You do not have any appointments booked, right? My family would be absolutely thrilled to see you again!"

"Mm, I do have an appointment with a client at ten, but I'll come afterward! You came to support Junpei at his fencing tournament, so I'm happy to reciprocate!" Her face lights up, and she presses a hand to her chest, right near where the curlicues on her costume meet to form a heart. I start to wonder if she's whipping up some sort of scheme, but I resolve myself to not try and figure it out. Whatever it is, it'll be nice. We enjoy our food in peaceful quiet, not needing too many words. Eventually, she rises to leave, but not before pressing an affectionate kiss to my forehead. It makes my face heat up.

After a while, I, too, head to work. I take online nutrition classes– I may know a lot, but it's always great to get fresh perspectives– but I never stopped working, and I find it even more fulfilling than I used to. Helping people reach their personal goals now is even better now that I'm closer to the person I really want to be. Soon, though, I'm running down the trail to reach the massive Big Top.

The Donburi no Kōi Circus is always so alive with activity: people practicing all sorts of stunts, children running amok, occasional reporters. Every now and then, one of the performers will greet me amicably, and I've learned most of their names. Their show for tonight (they do three weekly) isn't due to start for another few hours. I start heading toward the front row of bleachers and notice something strange. Someone is where I usually sit, and Azumi is chatting to them while beaming. I squint and start to jog, and in greater detail, I can see that the person has silver hair pulled back into a very short ponytail. Zu points to me and I hear, "Look! Look, there he is! I assured you he'd arrive!" The freckly, blue-eyed face turns to look at me, and I recognize them immediately.