A Clay Assassin: A Danganronpa After-Story

Chapter 3: Reminiscence

The van had been adorned with the logo of Team Danganronpa. In that very instant, time stood completely still as my mind ran through the several possibilities in which I could run far, far away from that van. My hand clasped the car door handle, rapidly shaking it out of fear, causing my father to become aware of my alarm. He had yet to notice the van, but out of confusion and worry for my sake he scanned the area, finally meeting eyes with the company logo.

"Oh god... Maki, dear, it'll be okay, I promise. No one wants to put you into a new killing game. No one wants to hurt you anymore, I swear. It'll be okay, all right?"

I could form no reply except to burrow my head in his chest, tears gliding down my face as my mind was once again filled with horrible memories from that sick game. Monokuma. My friends being murdered by own friends. Those same friends dying at the hands of a sick execution. Protesting the killing game. Losing Kaede. Losing Tenko. Losing Gonta. Losing Kokichi.

Losing... Kaito...

At this point, I was in a full uncontrollable sob. My father welcomed me with open arms after parking the car across the street, gently rubbing the back of my head and back to comfort me. Some time passed before he prodded me away.

"Maki, I'm going to go figure out what's happening, alright? You stay here and make sure you keep the doors locked until I tell you it's okay to leave."

I nodded back through my choked sobs. My father quickly exited the vehicle, leaving me in a fetal ball on my seat, trying to bury myself away from sight. All was silent for a few seconds until I heard yelling.

"What the hell are you doing here? Hasn't the public told you we don't want your games anymore? Get away from my daughter!" His tirade went on before he let anyone else speak. He... seemed to be holding this back for a while...

If anyone in the Team Danganronpa van had a reply, I couldn't hear it. They spoke in quiet, calm murmurs, probably so I couldn't hear them. They were trying to take me back, I just know it.

My father still stood, teeth clenched and hands balled into fists for some time until his grip lightened and his posture changed. He... believed them? He was listening to them? Why..?

I clasped my head, forcing it deeper in between my legs as my teeth began to audibly chatter. Why would he betray me like this? He probably really hates me, doesn't he? He's scared of me and wants to get rid of me. But I can't hurt anybody anymore... why should he be scared?

I don't know how long I had spent in my disillusioned ball when I heard a knock at the window, followed by the sound of a car door opening.

"Maki..? What's wrong? It's all okay, please calm down..."

Father grabbed my sweaty arm. "Get away from me, you backstabber! You're trying to pawn me off to another Killing Game, aren't you? I won't let you!"

I jerked my arm back, forcing him to release his grip as I retreated towards the car door. "Maki, it's alright. There won't be another game. Some of the writers at Team Danganronpa wanted to talk to you, that's all. They um... They want to show you something. I promise it's something good, and if it's not you can chew me out all you want. I promise."

Promise... The word seemed so fake. So... unreal. While I was an assassin, the idea of "promises" was nothing more than a running joke for me. But after the events of the Final Killing Game, and what Shuichi said...

Maybe trusting this promise wouldn't hurt me in the end.