Danganronpa Secret File Makoto Naegi's Worst Day Ever

Part 5

A short while later, Makoto finished collecting the strewn goods. Some of the drinks had even rolled off the sidewalk and into the street, which had made his job that much harder, but he was finally done—or so he thought.

Looking down at the array of items on the sidewalk, Makoto tilted his head.

“Is this... everything?”

Somehow, he felt like there was less there than what he had bought. Thinking he might have missed something, Makoto spun around, surveying the area.

There, he saw an old man with a long beard sitting on a bench just outside the convenience store.

I didn’t realize there was anyone there, he thought.

The old man looked away from Makoto, dropping his gaze to his own feet, then crouched forward and picked up the can of coffee lying there. Right before Makoto’s eyes, he pulled the tab, opening the can and, without hesitation, lifted it to his lips.

Hey, is that—

No, it couldn’t be, Makoto thought as he approached the old man.
“E-Excuse me,” he said, timidly.

“Hmm?” grunted the old man as he took another gulp and looked up at Makoto.

“Um, I apologize if I’m wrong about this, but is that coffee, by any chance...” he probed.

“Hmm? So this was yours, son?” the man said, a look of surprise rising to his face. Then, he burst out laughing.

“Haha, sorry about that!”

“Wait, so it really—” Makoto said, dumbfounded.

Without even the slightest trace of shame on his face, the old man said, “Ah, how should I put this? It just, y’know, found its way to me, like it was always meant to be. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Y-Yes you could have!” Makoto shouted back, instinctively objecting to the man’s absurd logic. But the man’s bright smile told him he was fighting a fruitless battle, so he dropped his shoulders, forfeiting with a heavy sigh.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

Apparently feeling at least somewhat bad about what he had done at the sight of Makoto’s utter dejection, the old man said, a trace of worry in his voice, “Hey now, son. Was my drinking your coffee really that big of a shock?”

“It wasn’t just that,” Makoto muttered through a sigh. “This is just not my lucky day. For the past, like, half-hour, bad things have constantly been happening. Why me? Why now? Is it karma or something?”
In response, the old man did something Makoto was not expecting: he chuckled.

“Huh?” Makoto said, looking up in surprise.

“Karma’s got nothing to do with it, son. Believing that good things will happen to you just because you’re a good person is senseless.”

“B-But—”

“Fact of the matter is,” he continued, not giving Makoto a chance to object, “I don’t believe in karma for a damn second. If you’re good you’ll be rewarded, or if something bad happens, it’s because you did something bad—that’s all a load of crap. That whole way of thinking is nothing more than vain hope, a futile attempt to control fate by assigning reason to it.