Danganronpa Boredom Stories

Fuyuko x Kazuya (Angst): Light Swallowed The Shadow

Familiar faces, familiar hallways, familiar classrooms.

Familiar feelings.

Familiar loneliness.

She felt like everything she's ever done in life was a lie, even as a criminologist. Fuyuko was stuck in this school with rich, stuck up pricks who wouldn't step off their high horse to open their eyes. They didn't notice when she missed a few days of school, then came back noticeably thinner. They didn't care. Every day was just an uphill battle that left her even worse than yesterday. Plus, having to return home to him.

It was about time.

She had been recently talking to this young man named Kazuya. Stubborn thing, even for her. But she found him enjoyable to be around. He wasn't really like the others, and she enjoyed having someone genuine around her. He never questioned her looks or behavior, called her creepy or a freak, or really anything that would hurt her feelings. Honestly, he acted way too pure for this hellhole. But even the copious amounts of trust she's built with him will never reveal her final plan.

Until it was too late.

Kazuya received a text from Fuyuko late last night, telling him to arrive thirty minutes earlier to school than normal. He thought nothing of it, she probably just wanted to work on that project that was due for science. He found it mysterious that she wasn't there waiting for him, but he shrugged it off. The criminologist was normally mysterious, she always hid her eyes from others and actively refused to take off her signature black velvet cloak. He never asked why, he always believed she'd tell him when she felt comfortable.

That cloak was the last piece of her that she had touched before-.

He walked up to the school gates. There was a crowd, screaming. The shouts weren't easily distinguishable, but he knew they were the shouts of his classmates. They were all looking at something on the roof.

It was her.

Fuyuko.

What was she doing?!

He panicked, running through the crowd and to the doors. Locked. She locked them. She didn't want anyone interfering with her final plans. He stepped back and looked up at her. He couldn't see her face, as always it was shadowed over by the mask of her hood. He was terrified for her. She, on the other hand, felt nothing. She wanted out from this life. Yes, it was a permanent solution for a temporary problem, but she didn't care. Her will was written, left in Kazuya's locker. There were a few other things she'd left as well. Her favorite books, incomplete research, pictures of the two. Memories. Things she wanted to forget in the very end. She stepped closer to the edge.

"Please Fuyuko! Please don't do this!" He screamed. He didn't want to believe she'd actually commit to this. It was a horrible idea! Nothing would be resolved this way! Tears fell, leaving shimmering streaks of pain down his face as he watched her step over the protective railing on the roof. There were others trying to get into the school. Even with them being so stuck up, for some reason they didn't want her to die.

And then, she turned around and fell backwards.

Nobody knew where she'd drop. They didn't want to. Yes, she was light enough to be caught, but the force would bring both people down. And she was falling too fast anyways, gravity helping her gain momentum downwards.

She looked to Kazuya, tears still streaming down his face.

"I'm sorry."

Splat.

And like that, she had gone. No one could explain why she had done what she did, but the deed was done. Kazuya stood over the body of his friend, sobbing, refusing to believe she was dead. But there was no pulse. No signs of life.

Fuyuko Hitori had committed suicide.

The bright light that had caused her so much pain, it finally swallowed her whole.

Nobody could've predicted that.

The light finally swallowed the shadow.

He cried and cried. He cried even when he thought he had stopped. He just couldn't believe it. He was too late. Others were crying behind him as well, talking about how different everything would be. Unknowing to her, people did care. They just thought she would return their care with more mysteriousness and a silent treatment. But now she was gone. They wouldn't be able to guess which shadowed corner she'd be hiding in anymore. They wouldn't be able to talk mystery with her anymore. Any activity they had previously done, they couldn't. Not anymore. She was gone. Kazuya was absolutely overcome with grief. He carefully held her cold hands, pushing up her sleeve accidentally in the process. A slight scar was revealed. Curious, he pushed her sleeve all the way past her elbow. Hidden beneath her cloak and uniform sleeves were cuts. Tens of old aged cuts and several fresh ones he assumed she'd made that morning. Above them were poorly rubbed off tallies.

The click of the school doors opening surprised everyone. Staff ushered everyone inside as sirens were heard in the distance. Kazuya took the girl's cloak. It didn't make him feel better, but it served as a reminder for him and everyone else. A flag of regrets almost.

Don't ignore those below you. You could end up like she did, the person we all loved from afar. Take action. You could've been the one to save her.

He entered the school grim, like all of the other students. Police had come to investigate and they decided to use the school for interrogation because it was the most convenient place to do so. Opening his locker, he saw several things atop his books that hadn't been there before. Goofy pictures of her trying to cover the camera, old and uncompleted research she just gave up on after days of him yelling at her to take a break, her favorite books. Things that would always remind him that she existed as a person. Not just a memory. Beneath all of that was a letter.

"Dear Kazuya,
I know what you must be thinking. 'It's impossible, she couldn't have killed herself! No way, she wouldn't have!' Don't be stubborn. I knew things that you never did. I am dead by the time you read this. If I didn't die immediately from that fall, I definitely died from blood loss. Don't try to save me. But, in exchange, I give you the truth.

My mother died in a freak accident around when I was four. Growing up, none of the authorities did anything. I hated that they couldn't give me the truth to my mother's death. So I decided to pick up criminology, sort of as a way of avenging her. She was involved with police work, so I was merely just carrying a legacy. After that incident, my father became frustrated. He lost his job, more like he quit. He used all the money we had to buy illegal street drugs, alcohol, and other things to try to forget what happened. But it only made things worse for him and he'd take it out on me. I was merely his punching bag, something he could throw around and toy with if it so pleased him. Night after night I'd cut and cry myself to sleep. Nobody could comfort me.

As I grew older, I managed to make a living out of criminology. It became my job rather than a hobby I had invested so much time into. Case after case, policy after policy, I fought for the truth and only the truth. I never tolerated any lies or opinionated answers. That's how I managed to become the Ultimate Criminologist. I carried my mother's legacy on my shoulder for such a long time. I upholded her every wish when my father never did. But with that came more pain. I turned into my father's slave. I used my paychecks to buy his drugs and alcohol for him. So in turn came more cutting. He called me a freak, said he couldn't stand seeing my face. So I bought a black velvet cloak with a mystical hood to shadow my face and hide.

You should know the rest. Accepted into Hope's Peak, never talked to anyone, was basically the reject. But you accepted me. I thank you for that. You showed me love that I could never find. I may be dead physically, but I've provided some objects to keep you company I guess. That way, I can live on in your heart. I never thought of myself as special, but you thought I was special. So you can keep those. Oh yeah, and the tallies were keeping track of the days since I had last attempted suicide and the days since I've harmed myself. They're probably smudged by now and covered in blood. But anyways, thank you. I'm sorry it all had to end this way. But just know that I love you.

Goodbye, Kazuya.

~Fuyuko Hitori, Ultimate Criminologist."