Ghost of You [Danganronpa]

11

Three days is all it takes for them to drink in another body.

<FUYUHIKO>

I trailed behind Masaru in uncertainty, Makoto hesitating from the doorway as the redhead climbed down the staircase, clicking his tongue upon glancing backward and seeing our doubt.

"C'mon. You guys will be fine."

My eyes flicked to the sight of the brown pools- the brown, glassy, distant irises that stared straight at me, and I felt a chill run down my back.

"Jataro!" Masaru called, hands settled on his hips and a pout on his face. "What did I tell you about turning off the lights? The Great Masaru Daimon can't do anything like this!"

The disembodied voice came from the same direction of the eyes. "Uh... oh, sorry... I just like it better, and Dad does too... you probably hate me now... right?"

In the darkness, I saw a dim light start to pulse. Narrowing my eyes, I focused on that small, rectangular opening of light as there was a clatter of something hitting what sounded like wood before the entire room exploded in light. Immediately, my hands flew to my face in an attempt to cover my eyes (or, I guess, one eye) from the glaring power source.

"Sorry..." The same, even and slow voice drawled, and as I peeked through my fingers, I spotted a boy, maybe even a little younger and shorter then Masaru, with one sleeve pressed to the wall. It was a long sleeve, stitched together with different patterns of brown interlacing together, and I also zeroed in on the thin, razor-tip sewing needle that came out of the boy's other hand.

His hands were hidden by the baggy sleeve, the end curled into a ball that was probably a fist or something akin to that, but his entire clothing followed the same pattern, messy, dirty, and all stitched together using patches of brown fabric. His face was the only thing that wasn't somewhat dirty, although his eyes were ringed with dark circles.

My fingers itched.

Upon seeing me, his eyes widened- in fear, maybe even in bewilderment, and I blinked at him in response, cocking my head to the side in confusion.

"You're... you're one of the warriors, aren't you?" Makoto asked. I hadn't even seen him creeping up behind me until he stood shoulder to shoulder with me.

"Huh... warriors? Like... the warriors of hope?"

My fingers twitched, feeling something itching beneath my skin again.

"Um.. yeah, I think that was their name," Makoto scratched at his chin.

Masaru spoke up. "The Warriors of Hope are destroyed. That's a mark of the past, and we don't want Picklesatan with us ever again! Right, Jataro?"

Jataro tapped his sleeves together. "Yeah..."

Warriors of Hope. It was an odd name, something that didn't just roll off of the tongue correctly.

"But... there was..." Makoto paused. "Five of you, right? I've only met three of you."

Masaru's brow furrowed. "Three? So you've met Kotoko too?"

His voice was guarded- oddly defensive as well.

Jataro, Masaru, and Kotoko...

"Um," Makoto shifted, looking uncomfortable under the redhead's impending gaze. "N-No, actually! Um... Nagisa? His name is Nagisa, I believe! Blue hair, blue eyes...!"

"You met Nagisa?" Jataro burst out, looking more excited than anything (well, his voice was... his face was just... blah), brown eyes shining. With that, he turned around and shouted, "DADDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!"