A Mistake [Danganronpa Fanfic]

Chapter 5

After a few hours holed up in his room, Chihiro finally gathered his courage and a laptop bag with the coat stuffed inside and swept out into the hallway. He was dressed a bit more presentable than before, in a pair of khaki shorts and the over-sized grey sweater from the morning. He patted down his hair and glanced carefully through the dim, red hallway. There was no one around. It was midday now, so he assumed that those who were still affected by a horrendous hang over had gone to take a nap, and others were keeping busy around the academy. Hopefully no one came creeping out of their room soon.

Scattering down the hallway, Chihiro kept his bag close to his hip, his trebling hands wrapped tightly around the handle. He had pondered all day about what he was going to say to Mondo to attempt to fix their detrimental mistake last night. His mistake. Technically Mondo had done nothing wrong, except for make incredibly aggressive moves in Chihiro's directions. Ones he didn't really counter, and actually welcomed eagerly. It was Chihiro who hadn't been honest the whole time. So apologies were in order. And an explanation, if the biker cared to hear it.

He came to a quick stop before the man's door, nervously outstretching his hand to tap on the ringer. His finger lingered over the button and he darted his hazel eyed attention back and forth down the hallway. Still alone. No Junko peeking around the corner to make another horrible accusation. No other students passing by to confirm any rumors she had created. With a sharp breath, he pressed the button and then leaned forward to listen to the intercom. His entire body was trembling, and for a moment, he considered dashing down the hallway back to his room for safety. But that wouldn't solve anything. He had to be brave for once in his life. He had spent so long running from his problems, though. That wouldn't be any different from the normal.

"What?" spat Mondo's disgruntled voice from the other end, sending a chill down his spine. The young boy withdrew his finger, biting down on his lower lip as he pressed another button.

"It's me... Chihiro... I... want..." he began slowly with his lips close to the speaker, expecting to get no answer after this. "I want to... talk... please..." He released the button, standing up straight and waiting for the door to pop open. There was no response. Not even static from the intercom to let him know Mondo was thinking about responding. Dead silence flooded the hallway. Mondo wasn't going to let him in.

The seconds passed by, agonizing and slow, and Chihiro took a step back. Retreating to his room was for the best. The biker wasn't going to give him any time from here on out, not with the terrible feeling of betrayal that was most likely filling his body. From down the hall, the programmer suddenly heard a click of a door handle, and he knew it was time to run. He couldn't be caught lingering outside Mondo's room.

Just as he was about to make his escape, the door in front of him crept open, Mondo standing with a towel in his hands, his tired, violent eyes narrowed. Nervously and without invitation, Chihiro pushed into the man's room and closed the door behind him. He was so concerned about being seen in front of Mondo's door that he didn't even realize how desperate he seemed bolting inside. "Sorry I took too long. Just got outta the shower," the biker murmured, turning his back on the small boy as he ran the towel against his head, attempting to dry his now messy hair. Chihiro rested awkwardly with his back against the door, clutching his laptop bag shakily against his chest. "What'cha want?"

With his hands clutched so close to his chest, he could feel his heart beating so hard. It was going so fast, he thought he may pass out. "I... I brought... your coat back," he stammered with a blush spreading across his cheeks like wild fire. Taking a hand from the bag to hold it at his side, he accidentally dropped it at his feet. He fell to his knees, keeping his head low as he dug through the bag, retrieving the long biker jacket. His eyes focused on the intricate golden designs laced upon the back. Whatever kept him from looking at the jacket's owner.