Danganronpa Secret File Makoto Naegi's Worst Day Ever

Part 9

The most important thing to him when he was on a job was reducing the potential influence of forces outside his control—luck, other people—to an absolute minimum. In his mind, a thorough, well crafted plan was the cornerstone of any job. He always formulated and executed his plans by himself, and any job for which that wasn’t possible, he wouldn’t take. There was nothing worse than being betrayed by a partner who let his greed get to his head, and besides, Jutarou didn’t need anyone slowing him down. And he especially didn’t need to be asking for help from on high.

Naturally, his current job was no different. He had planned everything and put that plan into action all by himself.

His target had been a small jewelry store in a nearby shopping district. Jutarou had received information that, despite looking run-down, the store had a hidden stash of extremely valuable jewels. And to top it off, the owner was a bit of a penny-pincher, so security was light.

It was an incredible opportunity—the kind that you only ever got once or twice.

So Jutarou crafted an intricate, but bold, plan, and then he went through with it. Naturally—as far as he was concerned—everything went without a hitch, exactly as it was supposed to. His plan was perfect, leaving no room whatsoever for outside interference. And there had been none.

Spoils tucked away in his bag, he calmly stepped onto the bus. Jutarou liked to make use of public transportation as much as possible while on a job. It was easier to blend into the crowd in a bustling city by riding a bus or train than it was driving a car or motorcycle, and by dressing like a businessman on the job, he practically disappeared.

The disguise worked, too. Not a person on that bus gave him a second look as he took an open seat at the front.

Finally certain he had completed his work, Jutarou let out a small sigh of relief. As the bus vibrated gently beneath him, he silently basked in the satisfaction of a job well done.

And then, a sick twist of fate made quick work of everything he had accomplished. Only, it wasn’t his luck that laid everything to waste rather, he was just caught in the crossfire of some teenage boy’s misfortune. Some boy who just happened to climb onto the same bus as him. It was a stroke of bad luck so overwhelming that even Jutarou who, up to that point, had been blessed with such incredibly good luck, was helpless to prevent it.

Glaring down at the boy lying on the floor of the bus, the boy who had dragged Jutarou into his misfortune, Jutarou calmly rose from his seat and said, “Don’t move. Stay right where you are, everyone.” He then pulled an army knife from his jacket pocket and waved it around for all the passengers to see.

No problem, he told himself. There’s still more than enough time to repair my plan.

Nothing made sense. His thoughts had become so entangled it felt as if his mind had turned into a giant ball of yarn.

What’s going on? What’s going on? What’s going on?

Makoto desperately struggled to make sense of the situation. He cranked his brain—which was on the verge of meltdown—into full gear and tried to remember how he had ended up where he was.