Danganronpa: Until Proven Guilty

Chapter Two - 1: Dawn of a New Demise.

"Now I am the violence, I am the sickness. Won't accept your silence, beg me for forgiveness."

~~

My eyes open.
I feel the cold prickle of stone against my back, tickling every inch of my body awake. A smooth, yet menacing breeze clings to my pores, sending a ghostly chill through me. The sound of drifting leaves and the whistling of wind surrounds me, cocooning me in a sense of uncertainty.
Grey sky. A dull day, not a sliver of sunlight peeking through the thick clouds.
Who brought me here? Have they trapped me?
I sit upright immediately, revealing a large building against the horizon. An immense, brick castle, shrouded by black mist and an irrational dread. Swings are dotted around the concrete, and trees seem to be lush in every patch of grass.
So familiar, yet so odd.

My old kindergarten.

The days of being a clueless 5-year-old all come swimming back to me, pattering around the playground with my little white socks, screaming until my lungs hurt when my mother let my hair down. Exchanging friendship bracelets. I smile.
As I begin to brush through my hair, I notice its striking colour.
A dashing red, like a liquified ruby, runs through my fingers and I continue to brush. Though it doesn't surprise me, it feels almost comforting.

And then, without warning.
A scream.

I wake up, bolting straight upright, as my head throbs from the motion. The room slowly sways in an exhausted blur, side to side, up and down. My eyes can barely keep up.
I run my fingers through my matted hair, and it remains the same colour as it had been the day before.
So it was just a dream.

A tsunami of realisation engulfs me in its cold, ugly waters, and each memory of the previous day comes flooding back. One by one. Piece by piece. Every horrific event reforms in my mind.

Minato's dead body. Jin's final pleas for his life. Haruka's tears, slowly streaming down her cheeks. The blood against the screen.
I can't resist the urge to grab my handbook, and start tirelessly scrolling through every message I'd sent to Jin. Pondering on every little word, every punctuation mark, and how I could've done it differently.

'Jin: Hey, you there?'

I wish I was there. I wish he was here. Slumped over my desk, ranting on about something as minuscule as ladybirds. I crave to hear his voice, pondering on how they came to be, or how their wings are so delicate, yet they can still lift their body weight. Or which colours were really the poisonous ones. Before, I would've scolded him for being so dull, and would send him out of my room without another word. But that ladybird was the most important thing to him, and now it's gone. Crushed by the ruthless fists of injustice.

Before I can slump back into the cavern of my bedsheets, there's a quiet knock on my door.
Answering seems like the most arduous chore of all, but the words only just escape my lips.
"It's open."
The door clicks, slowly opening, and the light from the hallway spills into my dark, desolate room. Shrouded by slight shadowiness, I can just about make out Mitsuharu's figure.
In any normal situation, it would be mortifying to have a man walk in on me, bare faced and lying in bed, but I don't have the energy to care. Somehow, he's found the time to fully dress, piercings and all.
"It's late," He says after a long pause.
There's another painful silence that I'm determined to break, but the sentences never quite string together well enough. My silence only prompts him to speak more.
"Sorry to barge in like this," His words are awkward, like he can't quite figure out what to say to me. His eyes divert from mine whenever I look at him, fumbling with the rips in his jeans.
"It's fine," I groan, making my best efforts to sit up, each movement feeling like I'm straining every muscle in my body.
"How are you?" He says coldly, slouching against my wall.
I frown, "Do you need an answer?"
He sighs, "Sorry. Guess I can't empathise."