𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 | Inquisitormaster & Zsquad| Danganronpa

☆𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟏☆ || 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫

SOPHOMORE YEAR- SEPTEMBER

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: **✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *

~??? POV~

It's all foreign to me now. The ashen carpet beneath my oddly clean shoes, the unfamiliarity unbearable. Papers littering a desk pushed into the corner cannot compare to any metaphor of neglect. In the mirror, I advert my eyes from the hauntings of my... outburst. No longer can I breathe; air is swept from me as we stare at each other. Two eyes who have never laid as much as a glance on the other, yet a sense of informality strikes us, lighting to a rod; to liars. A gleam would fit the darkness of the eyes well, but it isn't there, and one would assume that it wouldn't dare to appear. My finger yanks my collar forward, desperate for a breath that won't come. Yet, I've been breathing this entire time, smothering and subtle. That's not familiar to me, either. I can't think of anything that would be.

I retract that statement. Pinching, prodding, pulling. Anguish, animosity, annihilation. Confusion, condemned, contempt. Fear, fatigue, forgotten. It all made sense to me. Relief followed, a calm river rushing through my aching veins; a familiar feeling. I tug my collar down again, and I can breathe. Not a single feature on the face I stare at recalls any significant memories. Everything is shoved down, whisked away in the shadows of whatever now resides in my skull. This uniform is too tight. That may be why I don't feel secure in it, though I should feel the opposite.

I no longer belong there.

Regardless of the carpet, I can hear footsteps crossing to me after the door creaks open. My gaze is fixed on the cracking mirror. A set of hands lay on my shoulders, squeezing them, and a chuckle brushes the skin along my neck. She rests her head on my shoulder, gazing at the mirror as well. Gazing at me with sparkles twinkling in her eyes.

"You look handsome," she taunts. Along the blazer her finger trails just as teasingly as her tone.

"No, I don't. I look tired," I counter.

In the glass, I see her eyes flick up to me directly. They're glued. "You've always looked tired. And besides, you've been put through so much..."

A strip of silence pulls through us, and I am tentative when interrupting it. "Why are you here?"

"Is there a problem if I can here without reason?"

"Ever since I've met you, there has always been a reason behind whatever it is you do, whether it's worth anyone's attention or not... So, I'll repeat, what are you doing here?"

My voice comes as forceful as intended, and her cheeky, irritable smirk falters. As she lifts her chin from my shoulder, she angles herself toward me, tipping her head low. In the shadow I cast, I could see the iniquitous spark radiating behind her eye. It couldn't even be masked by the smirk accompanying it. I wish my nerves could rattle. I hope they will warn me about everything wrong going on around us. I haven't been back to that place in a while. They've discarded me. And, as grateful as I should be that they did, I feel useless. I feel trivial. The one thing they promised, they traversed to someone else. And that, if it hadn't, made me feel as insignificant as anything before. Her leer, that disgustingly cheery sneer brings the blinding lights to my vision, it brings the compacted feeling in my chest when they gently guide me into a world of nightmares as they inform me that everything I have given myself for was being given to someone else. There I layed, a useless piece of nothing that no one could recycle.

Especially not after what they had done to me.

"I saved you," she whispers against my ear, her eyes searching mine. She anticipates a reaction, I can feel it, and I keep myself rigid. "I saved you from their terrible, terrible hands. It wouldn't hurt to hang out with me for a while, right? The start of school's in a couple of weeks, hm?"