Archive of Our Own ^beta

The hydraulic press descended with a deafening roar, drowning out the faint, uneven breaths Kokichi struggled to take. The hangar's cold, metallic air seemed to close in around him, mingling with the heavy scent of oil and machinery. His vision blurred, the edges of the world smudging into darkness, whether from the poison dulling his senses or the sheer finality of what was happening, he couldn’t tell.

Above him, the unblinking red eye of a camera captured everything. Positioned just so, its angle left no trace of who the victim was, only the cold, unyielding mechanics of the machine and the gruesome inevitability of its purpose. A brilliant touch, Kokichi thought bitterly, even as his chest tightened, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Each inhale burned like fire, the poison clawing at his lungs, and yet his thoughts remained sharp. This was exactly how it needed to go. Kaito had followed the plan perfectly.

The press moved closer, its mechanical groan reverberating through the cavernous hangar. Shadows lengthened, stretching over Kokichi’s prone form as if the machine itself were consuming him. The first touch was startlingly cold, a brutal kiss of unfeeling metal against his chest. His body instinctively tensed, a futile response to the unstoppable force above him.

Then came the pressure—immense, unrelenting, and all-encompassing. The first snap of his ribs was sharp and deafening in his mind, even if no one else could hear it over the whine of the hydraulics. It was not a clean break, but a series of jagged fractures that sent shockwaves of agony rippling through his body. His vision, already blurred, swam with bursts of white-hot light as nerves fired their final desperate signals. His organs compressed, the air forced from his lungs in a strangled gasp that never became a scream.

The weight increased, relentless and uncaring. Blood surged to his head, his ears filled with a roaring static that drowned out even the sounds of his own destruction. The pain was all-consuming, a crescendo that peaked and then…dropped. There was a moment, fleeting and surreal, when his body stopped fighting. The press had done its work. His nerves went silent, his senses extinguished one by one, leaving only the faint memory of pain.

And then…

Silence.

The silence was nice, calming even. He felt as if his soul left his body, even if for just a moment, until… He felt like something was pulling him, drowning him in a sea of colors and sensations that were so intense he felt like crying. If he could’ve been able to cry he would’ve. But it was so overwhelming that he froze. He could feel every cell of his body rebuilding itself, while the lights blinded him. What was happening to him?

Soon, it all came to a stop, as suddenly as it came—it was gone. He gasped for air as if he hadn’t breathed in a million years, and soon he was crying hysterically. He laughed, he cried, he screamed—until he realized that he was in a dark, confined space. He became more aware of his surroundings, it seemed to be a metallic rectangular space. He felt the similar feeling of his usual uniform, but it was all so confusing… He wanted it to stop.

He moved around, until the door to this confined space opened. The light blinded him for a few seconds, and he went quiet. He stared at the figure for a moment, and then reality hit him like a speeding truck.

“...Kiibou?” Kokichi muttered out, his throat sore from the earlier screaming.

“Are you alright? I heard you screaming inside this locker soon after I woke up in the locker next to this one. Also, how do you know my name?” The robot questioned him. Kokichi blinked for a few seconds, too confused to even register Kiibou’s words correctly.

“...Huh..?” He sounded a little dumb, tilting his head as he got out of the locker. He then realized where he was—it was the classroom he had woken up in when he first got in the killing game. He looked around, at Kiibo—then himself. He noticed little irregular white marks on his hands. The marks looked a lot like vitiligo, and he flinched away slightly.

“Are you okay?” Kiibou asked again, “Did you hear what I just asked you?”

“Oh, uh… Yeah, yeah! I, um… I’m fine, I just… Freaked out from waking up in here, yeah…” Kokichi muttered, mentally slapping himself for sounding like a nervous wreck.

“Ah, that’s understandable. How did you know my name is Kiibou?”

…Shit.

Kokichi looked away, slightly panicking—he had no idea what was going on, why did Kiibou not remember him?! “I, um… I’m the Ultimate Oracle, so I can predict a few things. I predicted that I’d be in a strange place with a robot named Kiibou a while back—so as soon as I realized I was in a strange place, I instinctively said your name to see if this was the thing I predicted!” He smiled, hoping to sound convincing.

“Oh, I see! Well, although you know my name, I’ll introduce myself anyway! I’m Kiibou, the Ultimate Robot! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” The robot chirped, extending his hand to give Kokichi a handshake.

“I’m Kokichi Ouma!” Kokichi shook Kiibou’s hand, still panicking on the inside.

What the HELL was going on?!

Soon, the door opened—it was Kaede and Shuichi. They walked in, and began to talk to Kiibou, introducing themselves and asking for Kiibou’s name and talent. Kokichi spaced out for most of it, though.

He was silently freaking out—this wasn’t possible! He died only a few minutes ago, he was CRUSHED by a goddamn hydraulic press, damn it! How was he alive and well—aside from the weird vitiligo marks he definitely didn’t have before—if he had been poisoned and crushed?!

He looked at his hands, which were already pale to begin with, seeing the paler spots all over them—it was so odd, was it a side effect from his death?

Similar thoughts were rushing through his head like a river current during the storm, until he felt someone poking his cheek.

“Kaede, I don’t think you should be—” Shuichi began to speak, only to be interrupted by Kokichi.

“What is it?” He pushed Kaede’s finger away from his cheek.

“Ah, sorry! You seemed spaced out! I’m Kaede Akamatsu, the Ultimate Pianist! And this is Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Detective!” Kaede introduced herself. That was when Kokichi realized—he had seen Kaede die before. If she was alive now, that meant… He had gone back in time? How is that possible?!

He remembered Kaede’s execution vividly, those 8 hours of Monokuma hanging her and using her body to play an out of tune version of a children’s song would always haunt him. He looked at Kaede with a panicked expression for a split second, and then pretended to be carefree again. “I’m Kokichi Ouma, the Ultimate Oracle!”

“Ultimate Oracle? You mean you can predict things like in ancient Greece?” Shuichi perked up, curious.

“Of course! Though I need equipment for it, most of my predictions are 100% accurate! I even predicted Kiibou’s name and talent before we even got here!”

Kaede and Shuichi made an impressed noise, and continued their way to talk to other people. 

Kokichi leaned against the wall, watching as the others talked and introduced themselves. His grin remained fixed in place, a mask hiding the storm of thoughts swirling in his head. Everything felt too familiar, too scripted—like he was playing a part in a play he already knew by heart.

Before he could dwell on it further, the classroom door burst open with a loud bang.

“Attention, everyone!” a high-pitched, slightly grating voice called out.

Kokichi turned his head, pretending to be curious as five odd, bear-like robots strutted into the room. They were colorful and chaotic, each with their own distinct personality radiating from them.

“Gather in the gym, pronto!” the red one—Monotaro, if Kokichi remembered correctly—barked. “We’ve got somethin’ real important to show ya!”

“Important? Like what?” Kaede asked, stepping forward.

“Like you should stop asking questions and start moving!” the pink one, Monophanie, snapped, though her tone wavered with nervousness.

“This is so boring,” Monokid groaned, strumming the air like a guitar. “Just shut up and get to the gym before I throw you there myself!”

Kokichi tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Oh, mysterious summons to the gym? Sounds ominous. Lead the way, my adorable bear overlords!”

The Monokubs glared at him, clearly unimpressed, but said nothing as they marched out of the room. One by one, the students followed, some hesitantly, others with grim determination. Kokichi stayed near the back of the group, keeping an eye on everyone as they walked through the dimly lit halls.

As they entered the gym, Kokichi felt a chill run down his spine. The room was just as he remembered it—large, cold, and foreboding, with a stage set up at the front. He glanced around, his gaze lingering on each of his classmates. Kaede, Shuichi, Miu, Kiibo… all alive, all clueless.

The Monokubs lined up on the stage, grinning mischievously.

“Alright, you bastards!” Monokid growled. “It’s time for the main event!”

“Introducing our dad, the one, the only… Monokuma!” Monotaro announced, gesturing grandly as the lights dimmed.

With a burst of confetti and an obnoxiously cheerful tune, Monokuma appeared on the stage, his black-and-white form instantly recognizable.

“Puhuhu! Welcome to the most despair-inducing, heart-pounding game you’ll ever play!” Monokuma declared, spreading his arms wide. “The Killing Game is officially… back on!”

Kokichi’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before he forced it back into place. He knew this moment was coming, but seeing Monokuma again—hearing that insufferable laugh—it was a stark reminder of what he’d have to face.

He chuckled softly to himself, his voice barely audible over the chaos as the others reacted in shock and confusion. “So it begins… again.”

…

Kokichi sat cross-legged on the floor of his dorm, the faint glow of the whiteboard illuminating his face. His usual smirk was absent, replaced by a focused, calculating expression. In his hand was a marker, its cap chewed slightly from where he’d been unconsciously biting it earlier. He had already figured out that he was mostly likely back to the start of the killing game, like some sort of time loop.

The whiteboard loomed over him, covered in a grid he’d drawn to organize his thoughts. At the top, in bold letters, he’d written:

"Who’s the Mastermind?"

Beneath the heading were rows of photos he’d scavenged from the school’s various announcement boards and student profiles. He’d painstakingly pinned them up, arranging them into groups.

He leaned back, clicking the marker’s cap on and off as he stared at the board.

In the "Most Likely Not the Mastermind" section, he had placed:

Kaede Akamatsu

Rantaro Amami

Kirumi Tojo

Ryoma Hoshi

Korekiyo Shinguji

Tenko Chabashira

Angie Yonaga

Gonta Gokuhara

Miu Iruma

Each photo was marked with a small red X in the corner.

“These ones…” Kokichi muttered, tapping the marker against his lip. “They all died the first time the killing game happened. They didn’t have enough time to pull the strings or manipulate everyone like a mastermind would.” He twirled the marker in his fingers before scrawling beneath the group: "Most likely victims, not culprits."

His gaze shifted to the "Likely Not the Mastermind" section, where three faces were pinned:

Himiko Yumeno

Shuichi Saihara

Kaito Momota

“Shuichi was too cooperative in the first loop, and Kaito…” Kokichi paused, his smirk returning faintly. “He’s too dumb to be pulling the strings. Himiko’s a wildcard, but I can’t see her orchestrating this. She was too…” He trailed off, remembering her grief after Tenko and Angie’s deaths. “Too broken.”

Finally, his eyes landed on the "Could Be the Mastermind" section, where three photos stood side by side:

Maki Harukawa

Kiibou

Tsumugi Shirogane

Maki’s photo was slightly crumpled, as if Kokichi had balled it up in frustration before pinning it to the board.

“Quiet, mysterious, deadly… Maki fits the bill,” he muttered, glaring at her picture. “But is she manipulative enough? She wasn’t exactly subtle about wanting to kill people when she got serious.”

He tapped Kiibo’s photo next.

“A robot as the mastermind? It’s possible, I guess… but he’s so earnest. Almost too earnest, which makes me suspicious.” He wrote “???” beneath Kiibo’s name and moved on.

Finally, his gaze lingered on Tsumugi’s photo.

“Plain, boring Tsumugi,” he said softly, his tone laced with mockery. “You barely left an impression in the first loop… which might be exactly why you’d make the perfect mastermind.” He drew a small star next to her name.

Kokichi leaned back, tapping the marker against the floor rhythmically. He felt like he was missing something—some piece of the puzzle that wasn’t clicking yet. His eyes darted back to the "Likely Not the Mastermind" section, landing on Shuichi’s photo.

“Then again…” he whispered, narrowing his eyes. “The ultimate detective would make for one hell of a twist, wouldn’t it?” He smirked, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes.

For now, he left the board as it was. He’d revise it as the loop progressed, as more clues surfaced, and as he tested his theories.

“This time,” Kokichi murmured, capping the marker with a decisive snap, “I’m going to figure out who’s behind this. No matter what.”

He stood, stepping back to admire his work. The whiteboard was chaotic, covered in scribbles and arrows connecting different names and photos. It was a map of despair—but for Kokichi, it was a challenge.

He smirked to himself, crossing his arms.

“Let’s see how you handle me when I already know the rules of the game, Mastermind.”

Got it! Here's the introduction to the first motive, keeping Kokichi's actions and thoughts consistent with his manipulative and secretive nature:

The morning announcement blared across the school, jolting everyone awake with Monokuma’s overly enthusiastic voice. Kokichi sat up in his dorm room, already dressed. He hadn’t slept—how could he? He knew this was the day the killing game truly began.

Not long after, the gym buzzed with chatter as the students reluctantly gathered. Kokichi leaned casually against the wall, watching everyone’s tense faces as they filtered in. Kaede stood near Shuichi, her expression set with determination.

Before anyone could question why they’d been summoned, the Monokubs burst onto the scene, their chaotic energy as irritating as ever.

“Rise and shine, ursine!”

Monotaro stepped forward, grinning. “Everyone! Papa Kuma has a special announcement for you!”

“Yeah! You’re all gonna love it!” Monokid added, slamming his guitar for emphasis.

Monokuma appeared in a puff of smoke, his sinister chuckle echoing through the gym. “Welcome, my adorable little murder participants! You’re probably wondering why I’ve gathered you here today.”

“No,” Maki muttered under her breath, crossing her arms.

Monokuma ignored her, continuing with his speech. “Well, it’s time to spice things up! I mean, what’s the point of a killing game without a little motive?”

The students stiffened, the air growing heavier with each word. Kokichi tilted his head, feigning curiosity despite already knowing what was coming.

Monokuma snapped his claws, and a screen behind him lit up. Words scrolled across the screen, bright and bold:

“FIRST BLOOD PERK!”

Monokuma twirled dramatically. “Introducing the First Blood Perk! Whoever commits the very first murder won’t have to go through a class trial! That’s right, you can kill someone and walk away scot-free!”

Gasps rippled through the room. Kaede took a step forward, clenching her fists. “That’s horrible! How could you—”

Monokuma cut her off with a laugh. “Oh, save the righteous indignation, Pianist Girl. I’m doing this for you! This killing game is supposed to be fun, and it’s no fun if nobody dies! So go ahead, give in to your inner instincts! Who’s it gonna be, huh?”

“Not a chance,” Shuichi said firmly, stepping up beside Kaede. “No one here is going to play your game.”

Monokuma’s grin widened. “Oh, you say that now, but trust me, it won’t be long before someone cracks. Tick-tock, tick-tock! Time is of the essence, after all.”

The Monokubs burst into laughter, jeering at the students as Monokuma disappeared in another puff of smoke.

As the group filed out of the gym, their faces were a mixture of fear and determination. Kokichi stayed back, lingering near the entrance.

He knew exactly how things had unfolded last time—Kaede’s plan to kill the mastermind, Shuichi’s investigation of the library, and ultimately, Rantaro’s death.

Not this time.

This time, he’d make sure Kaede and Shuichi never got close to that hidden door.

The next few days passed tensely, with Kokichi spending most of his time lurking near the library. He always found some excuse to be there, either chatting idly with anyone who passed by or pretending to investigate random bookshelves.

Kaede and Shuichi noticed his constant presence, but Kokichi deflected their suspicions with ease.

“Don’t mind me,” he said with a grin when Shuichi questioned him. “I’m just trying to figure out where the mastermind might hide. It’s called strategy, you know!”

Shuichi frowned but said nothing, and Kokichi smirked as he turned back to the bookshelves.

He’d stay there as long as it took. If no one found the hidden door, Kaede’s plan couldn’t happen. And if Kaede’s plan didn’t happen, Rantaro wouldn’t die.

At least… not yet.

Two days had passed since Monokuma’s “First Blood Perk” announcement, and the atmosphere among the students grew heavier with each hour. No one had made a move to kill, but no one trusted that this fragile peace would last, either. Kokichi, for his part, had remained stationed near the library, ensuring Kaede and Shuichi couldn’t enact their plan to find the hidden door.

By now, the tension had reached its boiling point, and Monokuma decided to make another appearance.

As the morning announcement played, it was immediately followed by Monokuma’s shrill laughter echoing across the school.

“Attention, my adorable little failures!” his voice boomed. “Report to the gym immediately! I have some urgent news for you!”

Kokichi smirked to himself. Finally. Show your cards, Monokuma.

The students gathered reluctantly in the gym once more, their expressions ranging from wary to outright hostile. Kaede and Shuichi stood together again, Kaede’s arms crossed tightly while Shuichi’s brow furrowed in thought. Kokichi strolled in last, his hands tucked into his pockets, his usual smirk plastered across his face.

Monokuma wasted no time with theatrics this time. He appeared at the center of the stage, his expression oddly serious.

“Well, well, well,” he began, his voice dripping with mock disappointment. “It seems like you kids really don’t understand how this works. I gave you a perfectly good motive, and yet here we are—two whole days later—and no one’s dead! How boring can you be?!”

“Maybe we just don’t want to kill anyone,” Kaede shot back. “Ever think of that?”

Monokuma tilted his head, his grin widening. “Oh, I thought of it, Pianist Girl. But here’s the thing—this is a killing game, not a friendship simulator! If no one dies, there’s no game! And if there’s no game, then what’s the point of keeping you all alive?”

The students froze, unease spreading through the group like wildfire.

“I-Is that a threat?” Himiko asked, her voice shaking slightly.

“Oh, it’s not a threat, my little magician. It’s a promise!” Monokuma cackled. “If someone doesn’t die in the next two days, I’ll just have to execute ALL of you! How’s that for motivation?”

The room erupted into chaos.

“You can’t do that!” Kaede yelled, stepping forward. “That’s insane!”

“Yeah! That’s totally unfair!” Kaito shouted, slamming his fist into his palm.

Monokuma shrugged, his carefree tone contrasting sharply with the severity of his words. “Fair? This isn’t about fair, you silly astronauts. This is about entertainment! So, better get to scheming, kiddos. Two days. That’s all you’ve got.”

With that, he vanished, leaving the students in stunned silence.

As the group dispersed, their conversations filled with desperation and doubt, Kokichi leaned against the wall just outside the gym, watching them scatter.

He tapped his chin thoughtfully, a small smile playing on his lips.

So, it’s true, he thought. He really would kill everyone if the game doesn’t start. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to play by his rules. Not yet.

He adjusted his scarf and headed back to the library. If Kaede and Shuichi were going to crack under the pressure, it would happen soon—and Kokichi was determined to be there when it did.

Kokichi sat in the library, leaning back in one of the uncomfortable chairs as he stared at the clock. Midnight was approaching—the deadline Monokuma had so generously given them to start the killing game.

Despite his outward calm, his mind was racing. He hadn’t seen Kaede or Shuichi all day, and the rest of the students seemed to have scattered to their rooms or various hideouts to avoid the growing tension. Even Kokichi wasn’t entirely sure what would happen when the clock struck twelve, but he wasn’t going to miss it.

He glanced toward the bookcase where he knew the hidden door was concealed. It hadn’t budged in the last two days, not even when he purposefully lingered near it. His presence had seemingly deterred anyone from trying to investigate it—just as he’d planned.

The clock struck midnight.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Then, a faint click.

Kokichi sat up, his eyes snapping to the bookshelf. Slowly, it began to slide open, revealing a dark, narrow corridor beyond. He stood, his heart pounding in his chest.

“What the hell…?” he muttered under his breath.

Before he could react further, a deafening mechanical roar echoed from the corridor. Kokichi barely had time to register the sound before an army of Monokumas—dozens, hundreds, millions—poured out of the hidden door like a flood. Their glowing red eyes glinted in the dim library light, and their maniacal laughter filled the air.

Kokichi stumbled back, his mind racing. This wasn’t supposed to happen!

The Monokumas moved with horrifying speed, barreling past Kokichi and into the school. He heard screams almost immediately, the kind that chilled his blood.

Kokichi bolted after them, his heart hammering in his chest. He didn’t know why he was following, but he couldn’t stop himself. He rounded a corner just in time to see one of the Monokumas leap onto Kaede, its claws raking across her chest. Blood sprayed the walls as she fell, her wide, terrified eyes meeting Kokichi’s for a brief moment before the bear tore into her again.

“No—Kaede!” Kokichi yelled, his voice cracking.

He barely had time to process the sight before another scream rang out—this one from Kaito. Kokichi turned to see Kaito swinging a chair at a group of Monokumas, only for one of them to leap onto his back and sink its claws into his neck. Blood gushed as Kaito collapsed, his body twitching as the Monokumas tore him apart.

Kokichi backed away, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Everywhere he looked, the Monokumas were attacking, their movements erratic and filled with a bizarre, almost gleeful bloodlust. Miu was impaled on a spear one of the bears had fashioned from a broken pipe, her shrieks echoing through the halls. Tenko tried to fight them off with her bare hands, only to be overwhelmed and dragged down, her screams abruptly cutting off.

The carnage was overwhelming. The walls were splattered with blood, the air thick with the smell of metal and death. Kokichi could barely think, his mind a whirlwind of panic and disbelief.

“Stop it!” he screamed, though his voice was lost in the chaos. “This wasn’t supposed to happen!”

He turned to run, but his path was blocked by more Monokumas. Their glowing eyes locked onto him, and he felt a chill run down his spine.

One of them lunged, and Kokichi raised his arms to shield himself—but the impact never came.

Instead, everything went dark.

Darkness enveloped Kokichi as his senses groggily returned to him. His body ached, and a faint metallic taste lingered on his tongue. The air was stuffy, and he could feel the cold, cramped walls around him.

A locker.

His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light. Slowly, the memory of his last moments crept back into his mind—blood, screams, the Monokumas, and then...nothing. His chest tightened, panic threatening to overwhelm him.

The door of the locker creaked open, letting in a stream of harsh light. Kokichi squinted and instinctively raised a hand to block it. Standing in front of him was a familiar figure—a tall, humanoid robot with pristine white armor and glowing blue eyes.

“Are you alright?” the robot asked, his voice even and polite.

Kokichi stared at him for a moment before forcing his usual grin. His mind raced, but he had to play this cool. Kiibou wasn’t supposed to remember him, and that was a good thing. “Oh, I’m totally fine! Just waking up in a locker like it’s a totally normal thing, y’know? No big deal!”

Kiibou tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “I’m Kiibou, the Ultimate Robot. I woke up in a locker as well. Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Kokichi stretched his arms dramatically as he stepped out of the locker. “Kiibou, huh? Cool talent. I’m Kokichi Ouma, and I’ve got no idea what’s happening either. Maybe we’re being pranked or something? Or maybe this is some weird school initiation ritual?”

Kiibou frowned, his glowing eyes narrowing slightly. “If it is, it seems unnecessarily unsettling. I was locked away, and now we’re in an unfamiliar place.” He paused, scanning the room. “We should look for others. There must be more people here.”

Kokichi’s gaze flicked around the classroom, the all-too-familiar layout sending a chill down his spine. He already knew where this was headed, but he kept his voice light and carefree. “Sure, let’s go find everyone else! Who knows? Maybe they’re all locked in lockers too!”

As they made their way to the door, voices from the hallway caught their attention.

The door creaked open, revealing two more figures—Kaede Akamatsu and Shuichi Saihara. Kaede, brushing dust off her skirt, was the first to notice them. “Oh! Hi! You guys are awake too?”

Kokichi felt his stomach twist uncomfortably at the sight of Kaede alive, vibrant, and smiling. He forced his grin to widen. “Oh wow, more new faces! I guess we’re not alone after all!”

“I’m Kaede Akamatsu,” she introduced herself with a polite bow. “The Ultimate Pianist. And this is Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Detective.”

Shuichi gave a small nod, his eyes darting between Kokichi and Kiibou. “Hi. Have you two figured out what’s going on?”

“Nope!” Kokichi said cheerfully, popping the “p” sound. “But don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of this mystery soon enough!”

Kaede frowned, looking around nervously. “This place doesn’t feel right. We should find the others. Maybe they know more about what’s going on.”

“Good idea,” Kiibou agreed. “Shall we?”

The four of them began walking through the eerily quiet hallways, opening doors and calling out to anyone who might be inside. One by one, they found the rest of the group—Tenko, Angie, Gonta, Miu, and the others—each locked in their own classroom or lockers, just as confused and disoriented.

Kokichi kept his usual playful facade as he introduced himself to everyone, hiding his growing unease. This was the beginning of the killing game all over again. The pieces were falling into place just like before.

But this time, Kokichi knew he couldn’t let it play out the same way.

The gymnasium was eerily silent except for the quiet shuffling of feet as the sixteen students gathered. A stage loomed ahead, its crimson curtains drawn shut. Kokichi stood near the back of the group, leaning casually against the wall, but his mind was far from relaxed. His sharp eyes darted around, taking in every detail.

Everyone was here. Everyone was alive.

Again.

He forced down the lump rising in his throat. The same stage, the same sequence, the same twisted game about to begin. He already knew what was coming.

The sound of mechanical gears whirring to life made the group jump. From the stage, the Monokubs appeared, their cartoonish forms contrasting with the tension in the room.

“Puhuhuhu! Welcome, welcome!” Monokid roared, pumping his fists into the air. “Time to get this show on the road!”

Monosuke adjusted his glasses—or at least pretended to. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s hurry up and tell ‘em what’s going on. This is gonna be a pain otherwise.”

“Pain for them, not for us!” Monotaro added with a nervous laugh.

Kaede stepped forward, trying to steady her voice. “What is this? Why are we here? What do you want from us?”

“Oh, goody! Someone’s stepping up to be the leader already!” Monophanie chirped, clapping her paws together.

Before Kaede could respond, the curtains flew open, revealing Monokuma seated on a throne. The sight of the bear sent a chill down Kokichi’s spine, even though he’d seen it all before.

“Puhuhu! Welcome to the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles!” Monokuma announced, his voice dripping with mockery. “I’m your headmaster, Monokuma! And you’re all here to participate in a super fun activity—a killing game!”

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Gasps and murmurs erupted among the group. Kokichi stayed silent, watching everyone’s reactions.

“K-Killing game?!” Himiko’s voice trembled, her face pale.

“You’re joking, right?” Shuichi asked, his tone pleading but his expression serious.

“Oh, I never joke about something this serious!” Monokuma said with a sinister grin. “Sixteen Ultimate students, trapped here together, with only one way out—killing another student and getting away with it!”

“D-Don’t be ridiculous!” Kaede shouted, her voice cracking. “We’d never—”

“Ah-ah-ah!” Monokuma interrupted, wagging a clawed finger. “I wouldn’t be so sure. See, I’ve got a little incentive for you all to get started!”

The Monokubs brought out a screen, and a message appeared:

First Blood Perk: Whoever commits the first murder will be allowed to leave without a class trial. No questions asked!

The group erupted into chaos. Some yelled in anger, others in confusion. Kokichi stayed back, observing it all with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Puhuhu! But wait, there’s more!” Monokuma said, silencing the group. “If no one takes me up on this fabulous offer within the next two days…”

Monosuke stepped forward, grinning wickedly. “Then you’ll all be executed. Every last one of ya.”

A stunned silence fell over the room.

“No…” Rantaro muttered, his calm facade slipping for a moment. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” Monokuma replied. “So you’d better get to scheming, stabbing, or smashing! The clock is ticking!”

Kokichi’s heart pounded. He couldn’t stop the killing game this time, but he could manipulate it. If Kaede’s plan to kill the “mastermind” played out again, she’d be executed, and Rantaro would die for nothing. He had to let the first murder happen naturally, without interference.

As the students dispersed, tension thick in the air, Kokichi lingered near the back. His usual smirk returned as he whispered under his breath.

“Alright, Monokuma… Let’s play.”

The days following Monokuma's chilling announcement passed in a tense blur. The atmosphere within the Ultimate Academy was suffocating, a palpable heaviness weighing on everyone. Eyes darted nervously in the halls, voices hushed to whispers as the students grappled with their fears. The promise of despair loomed over them like a storm cloud, and Kokichi Ouma watched it all unfold from the shadows.

He had always been good at reading people. The Ultimate Supreme Leader didn’t need his “army of ten thousand” to see how fear and desperation twisted his classmates’ actions. He saw the little tells—the way Shuichi Saihara’s hand lingered on the brim of his hat, tugging it lower with each passing day, or how Kaede Akamatsu forced herself to smile, her determination to rally everyone barely masking the cracks in her resolve.

Kokichi’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the way they exchanged furtive glances in the cafeteria or how they lingered together in the library, their whispered conversations growing more frequent. He didn’t need to hear the words to know they were planning something. Kaede’s fiery determination and Shuichi’s budding investigative instincts were bound to lead them down a dangerous path.

Still, Kokichi refrained from stepping in. Interfering wasn’t part of his plan—not yet, at least. He knew the game needed to progress, no matter how much it disgusted him. The first murder was inevitable, a necessary step in the twisted logic of the killing game. His role, for now, was to observe, to gather as much information as possible and keep his true intentions hidden.

Then came the day the academy’s eerie silence was shattered by Monokuma’s gleeful announcement.

“A body has been discovered! Everyone, please assemble in the library!”

Kokichi didn’t need to rush. He already knew what they would find.

When he entered the library, the others were already there, frozen in a tableau of shock and horror. Rantaro Amami’s lifeless body lay crumpled beneath the bookshelf, a pool of blood slowly spreading from the gaping wound on his head. The shot put ball that had ended his life sat nearby, its metallic sheen dulled by streaks of crimson.

Kaede stood stiffly to the side, her hands trembling as she clutched Shuichi’s arm. Shuichi looked equally shaken, his wide eyes darting between the body and the others as if trying to piece together what had just happened.

Kokichi’s gaze lingered on Kaede for a moment longer than the rest. He saw the subtle tension in her posture, the way she avoided looking directly at the body. It didn’t take a detective to realize she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared.

Monokuma appeared shortly after, his grating laughter echoing off the library’s walls. “Upupu! Looks like the game has finally begun! It’s time for the moment you’ve all been waiting for—the class trial!”

The trial itself was grueling, a storm of accusations, alibis, and betrayals that wore down even the most stoic among them. Kokichi played his part flawlessly, injecting his usual chaos into the proceedings while keeping his true insights carefully veiled.

Piece by piece, the truth came to light. Kaede’s plan to kill the mastermind, her setup with the rigged shot put ball, and the tragic mistake that ended Rantaro’s life instead. By the time Kaede confessed, the room was suffused with a heavy silence, the weight of her words pressing down on everyone.

“I just… I just wanted to save everyone,” Kaede said, her voice trembling but resolute. “I thought if I could stop the mastermind, we could end this nightmare before it even began.”

She turned to Shuichi, her eyes filled with tears. “Please, Shuichi… Promise me. Promise me you’ll save everyone. Help them get out of here as friends. That’s all I wanted.”

Shuichi could only nod, his voice failing him as Monokuma’s announcement declared Kaede guilty.

Kokichi watched in silence as Kaede was led away to her execution. He had seen many things in his time, but the sight of Kaede’s death—her lifeless body strung up like a macabre puppet, her dream of unity twisted into a grotesque display—made something in his chest tighten uncomfortably.

He didn’t cry. He didn’t even flinch. But as the others wept and cursed Monokuma, Kokichi quietly made a promise of his own.

Kaede’s wish would not die with her. He would ensure it, even if it meant manipulating, deceiving, and playing the long game. He would save them. All of them. In his own way.

As Monokuma’s laughter faded and the others dispersed, Kokichi stayed behind, staring at the now-empty execution chamber.

“This is just the beginning,” he muttered to himself, his violet eyes glinting with a dangerous resolve. “Let the killing game continue… I’ll win it my way.”

As the days passed and the unease in the academy grew, Kokichi knew the second motive was just around the corner. He prepared for it meticulously, knowing that this time, he couldn't let history repeat itself.

The motive videos. Monokuma's next sick trick to spark bloodshed.

When Monokuma gleefully distributed the tapes, Kokichi's pulse quickened. He stayed silent, feigning indifference as the rest of the group debated over what to do. The moment he was alone in his room, he locked the door and turned the video over in his hands.

This time, he wouldn’t ignore it. If he wanted to control the situation, he needed to know what Monokuma had cooked up for him.

Sitting at the small desk in his room, Kokichi inserted the tape into the monitor. The screen flickered, and Monokuma’s voice boomed to life, cheery and mocking as always.

"Upupu! Let’s take a peek at the oh-so-secret life of Kokichi Ouma, the Ultimate Supreme Leader!"

The footage began to roll. Kokichi watched as images of his supposed "organization" appeared on the screen. Except it wasn’t anything like the elaborate, sinister empire he had always claimed it to be.

Instead, it was a ragtag group of kids, barely a dozen of them, playing harmless pranks and laughing together. The camera zoomed in on their faces—bright smiles, carefree expressions. They were friends. Family, even.

“They looked up to you, didn’t they?” Monokuma’s voice oozed with mockery. “And you left them behind! They’re waiting for you to come back, wondering why their precious leader abandoned them! Upupu!”

The screen went black, but Kokichi didn’t move. He sat frozen, his jaw clenched tightly.

For a moment, the smirk he always wore slipped, revealing a flicker of something raw and vulnerable. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by his usual mask of amusement.

“Wow, Monokuma,” he said to himself, forcing a laugh. “You really think that’s going to get to me? Nice try!”

But his hands trembled slightly as he ejected the tape. Kokichi stuffed the video into his pocket, gripping it tightly. He didn’t have time to dwell on the past or whatever Monokuma was trying to stir up inside him.

He had work to do.

Late that night, Kokichi moved silently through the dormitory halls. He stopped in front of Kirumi’s door, his tools ready. He had studied Kirumi enough to know she was already asleep; her precision and rigid schedule made her predictable in some ways.

Picking the lock was more nerve-wracking this time, knowing how sharp Kirumi’s senses were. But he managed, slipping inside as quietly as a shadow.

Her room was immaculate, as expected. The tape lay on her desk, untouched. Kokichi approached it carefully, pulling out his own video. He swapped them, making sure everything was placed exactly as it had been.

He lingered for a moment, glancing at the label on Kirumi’s tape. He didn’t need to watch it to know what it said. He already knew what it would drive her to do.

"Not this time," he muttered under his breath, sliding his own tape into the case.

With one last look around, Kokichi slipped out of Kirumi’s room and locked the door behind him.

Back in his own room, Kokichi collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. He had changed the game, set the pieces in motion differently this time.

The question was: would it be enough?

The dining hall was quieter than usual the next morning, the recent trial casting a shadow over everyone’s spirits. Kokichi strolled in late, hands tucked into his pockets, his usual smirk playing on his lips. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, he was on high alert, already piecing together his next steps.

Around the room, his classmates sat scattered at the long table. Shuichi looked pale and drawn, picking at a plate of eggs he had no intention of eating. Kaito was beside him, leaning back in his chair with crossed arms, his expression a mix of irritation and unease. Himiko sat slumped, poking at her food while Tenko whispered assurances to her from across the table.

Kirumi, poised and calm as ever, poured tea for Gonta, who appeared lost in thought, his towering figure hunched. Miu was unusually subdued, muttering to herself as she tinkered with something on the table.

“Morning, everyone!” Kokichi chirped, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence like a knife.

A few heads turned his way, some glaring, others barely acknowledging him.

“We all love a good gloomy breakfast, don’t we?” he teased, plopping into a chair and kicking his feet up on the table.

“Kokichi,” Shuichi said softly, his tone strained, “not now.”

Kokichi’s grin widened. “What? I’m just trying to lighten the mood. You all look like you’re at a funeral—oh wait, that’s because two of us actually did die recently! Oops!”

“Kokichi!” Kaito snapped, his fist slamming the table. “Knock it off!”

“Fine, fine,” Kokichi said, waving a hand lazily. “I’ll be good.” He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “So, let’s talk about these little videos we got yesterday, huh? Fun stuff, right?”

The room tensed immediately.

“I don’t think we should discuss them,” Shuichi said quickly, glancing around nervously. “It’s better if we don’t.”

“I agree,” Kirumi said, her voice measured. “These videos are designed to manipulate us. Sharing their contents will only increase the likelihood of violence.”

“Right!” Gonta nodded vigorously. “Gonta doesn’t want anyone to get hurt because of videos!”

“Then what do we do with them?” Miu sneered. “Just sit on ’em? Pretend they don’t exist? Genius plan, dumbasses.”

“We don’t give them to their rightful owners,” Shuichi said firmly. “If none of us know what’s in our own videos, there’s no motive.”

“Upupu~ what an adorable plan!” Kokichi mocked, clasping his hands together with a fake pout. “Too bad it’ll never work.”

Kaito glared at him. “Why the hell not?”

Kokichi smirked, his eyes glinting. “Because you’re assuming everyone here is as trustworthy as you. But you know…” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Some of us might be curious enough to peek anyway.”

The room went silent, Kokichi’s words hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

“Not that I’m accusing anyone, of course!” Kokichi said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But let’s be honest: secrets like these? They’re bound to come out sooner or later.”

The tension was palpable as the group exchanged uneasy glances. Shuichi’s grip on his hat tightened, and Kaito’s jaw clenched.

“Anyway,” Kokichi said breezily, standing up, “I’ve got better things to do than sit around here all day. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone, okay?”

With that, he sauntered out of the dining hall, leaving the group to stew in his wake.

Outside, Kokichi’s carefree mask slipped for a moment, his smirk fading into a thoughtful frown. The pieces were starting to fall into place, and he couldn’t afford to let anyone, especially Kirumi, see her own video.

He had work to do.

As night fell and the dorms grew quiet, Kokichi made his move. He slipped out of his room, a flashlight in hand and his heart pounding in his chest. The thought of breaking into everyone’s rooms was nerve-wracking, even for him. One wrong move, and he’d be caught. But the alternative—allowing those motive videos to stir chaos—was worse.

He started with the closest rooms, sticking to the shadows as he moved. Shuichi’s room was first. Picking the lock was simple enough—he had prepared for this sort of thing before. Inside, he found Shuichi’s video sitting neatly on the desk. Kokichi pocketed it and slipped back out as quietly as he had entered.

Next was Kaito’s room. Kokichi’s nerves spiked when he heard a loud snore from inside, but Kaito remained sound asleep as Kokichi crept in. He found the video lying on a pile of clothes, scooped it up, and left before Kaito stirred.

One by one, Kokichi made his rounds, breaking into each room and swiping the motive videos. Each time, he felt a jolt of fear when a floorboard creaked or a door hinge groaned. At one point, he thought he heard footsteps in the hallway and froze, his flashlight off, his breath caught in his throat. But no one came, and he continued his mission.

Kirumi’s room was the last. It was immaculate, of course, but the video was there, placed neatly on her bedside table. As Kokichi picked it up, he couldn’t help but glance around at the pristine space, the bed perfectly made, the desk spotless. He felt a pang of guilt—Kirumi had always been composed and dependable—but he quickly pushed the thought aside. He couldn’t let anyone see these videos, no matter what.

With all the videos in hand, Kokichi returned to his room, his heart still racing. He spread them out on his bed, staring at the stack of evidence. Destroying them was the obvious next step, but how?

He waited until the courtyard was completely deserted before venturing out, the videos tucked under his arm. Under the moonlight, he tried everything—tearing them apart, stomping on them, even attempting to set one on fire with a lighter he’d swiped from Miu’s workshop. But nothing worked. The videos were indestructible, their plastic cases and discs refusing to break no matter what he tried.

“Damn it!” Kokichi hissed under his breath, throwing one of the videos to the ground in frustration. It bounced harmlessly, taunting him with its resilience.

Out of options, Kokichi returned to his room, a sour taste in his mouth. He couldn’t destroy the videos, but he couldn’t leave them out in the open either. He opened his closet, shoved the entire stack inside, and covered them with a pile of clothes and random trinkets.

“Guess this’ll have to do for now,” he muttered, shutting the closet door.

As he flopped onto his bed, Kokichi stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. He’d bought himself some time, but he knew it wouldn’t last forever. The killing game wasn’t going to stop just because he’d hidden the motives.

Still, for tonight, he allowed himself a small sense of accomplishment. The videos were out of sight, and for now, out of mind.

“Let’s see how long I can keep this up,” he whispered to himself before exhaustion finally pulled him into a restless sleep.

The next morning, the dining hall was abuzz with confusion. As the students trickled in one by one, their conversations grew louder and more frantic. By the time everyone had arrived, it was clear something was wrong.

“Is it just me, or are the motive videos... gone?” Miu blurted out, slamming her hands on the table.

“They’re not in my room anymore,” Shuichi said, looking around nervously. “I left it on my desk last night, and now it’s gone.”

“Same here,” Himiko added, her voice quieter than usual. “It was right by my bed, but when I woke up, it wasn’t there.”

One by one, the students shared similar stories. Each of them had woken up to find their motive videos missing, with no clue as to what had happened.

“Well, isn’t that mysterious,” Kokichi chimed in, leaning back in his chair with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Mine’s gone too! It’s almost like some magical video fairy snuck in and took them all away.”

“You mean... someone took them?” Kaito asked, his brows furrowing in suspicion.

“Obviously, dumbass!” Miu snapped. “Videos don’t just walk away on their own!”

“Who would even do that?” Tsumugi wondered aloud, tapping her chin. “And why?”

Kokichi shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe someone didn’t want anyone to watch them. You know, to stop anyone from freaking out or... killing someone.” He let the suggestion hang in the air, watching the others’ reactions carefully.

“That’s... possible,” Shuichi said slowly. “But it would mean whoever did it broke into everyone’s rooms.”

“That’s a bold move,” Kiibou added, folding his arms. “If they had been caught, it could’ve gone very badly for them.”

“And yet, no one caught anyone,” Kokichi pointed out, his tone playful. “Whoever did it must be super sneaky! Or maybe we all sleep like rocks. Either way, it looks like the videos are gone, so no harm done, right?”

“Hmph,” Maki muttered, her arms crossed. “I don’t trust it. Whoever did this might have their own agenda.”

“Agreed,” Tsumugi said. “We don’t know their intentions. What if they’re planning to use the videos against us somehow?”

The group fell into uneasy silence, each student lost in their thoughts. Kokichi leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he studied them. None of them seemed to suspect him—his act had worked perfectly.

“Well,” Kokichi said after a moment, breaking the silence, “it’s not like we can do anything about it now. The videos are gone, and nobody’s confessing. So why don’t we just... move on? Pretend they never existed?”

The others exchanged wary glances but eventually nodded. What else could they do?

As the conversation shifted to other topics, Kokichi sat back in his chair, a smirk tugging at his lips. Inside, though, he felt a mix of relief and tension. He had successfully diverted their suspicions, but the pressure of keeping the truth hidden weighed on him.

For now, though, he had succeeded in his goal. The motive videos were out of sight, and the killing game was one step closer to being delayed.

“Kaede,” he thought to himself, “I hope this counts as saving everyone, just like you wanted.”

The days that followed were filled with a tense mixture of investigation and uneasy camaraderie. Kokichi made a point to engage with his classmates, trying to peel back the layers of their personalities and uncover anything that might hint at their innocence—or their guilt. He observed their habits, listened to their stories, and took mental notes on every interaction.

It wasn’t all smooth sailing, though. Suspicion lingered in the air, and trust was a fragile thing. Kokichi’s playful demeanor was both a shield and a weapon, allowing him to deflect questions while subtly steering the conversation where he wanted. But even he had to admit that, so far, no one stood out as a clear mastermind.

Meanwhile, Angie Yonaga’s influence was growing. She formed the Student Council, roping in Himiko, Tsumugi, Gonta, Tenko, and Kiibou with her vision of eternal peace in the academy. Her goal was to avoid the killings altogether by embracing the idea of living forever within the academy walls, guided by Atua’s will.

The council quickly became a source of tension among the students. Some, like Shuichi and Maki, were openly skeptical of Angie’s intentions, while others seemed torn between hope and apprehension. Kokichi, for his part, kept a close eye on the group, noting the way Angie’s words seemed to sway her followers like a tide.

“They’re not going to stop the killing game,” Kokichi thought to himself. “But they might just make it worse.”

A week after the motive videos, Monokuma made another dramatic appearance, this time with an item clutched in his paws: the Necronomicon.

“Hee-hee-hee! Gather around, kiddos!” Monokuma called out, his voice dripping with glee. “Your next motive is here, and it’s a killer one! Literally!”

The students exchanged uneasy glances as they gathered in the gym.

“This little beauty,” Monokuma continued, holding up the sinister-looking book, “is the Necronomicon! With it, you can perform a ritual to bring back one of your dearly departed friends! That’s right—Kaede or Rantaro, back from the dead!”

Gasps echoed through the room. Even Kokichi felt his stomach drop.

“Of course,” Monokuma went on, “resurrections aren’t free. You’ll need to follow the instructions to the letter, and trust me, it’s no picnic. But hey, wouldn’t it be worth it to see their smiling faces again?”

The room erupted into murmurs, some students sounding intrigued, others horrified.

Kokichi narrowed his eyes at the book. He could already see the wheels turning in Angie’s mind—this was exactly the kind of thing she’d latch onto, claiming it as Atua’s will.

“Absolutely not,” Kokichi muttered under his breath.

When the meeting ended, he made a beeline for the Necronomicon. With everyone else still reeling from Monokuma’s announcement, it wasn’t difficult for him to swipe the book without anyone noticing. He clutched it tightly as he hurried to the nearest incinerator in the courtyard.

The flames roared to life as Kokichi hesitated for a moment, staring down at the ominous tome. A part of him couldn’t help but wonder—what if the ritual actually worked? Could he bring Kaede back? Or even Rantaro?

But the thought was fleeting. Kokichi knew better. Bringing someone back wouldn’t stop the killing game—it would only make things worse.

“Sorry, Kaede,” he whispered. “But this isn’t the way to save everyone.”

With that, he tossed the Necronomicon into the flames, watching as the fire consumed its pages. The blackened paper curled and crumbled, releasing a foul-smelling smoke that drifted into the night sky.

When he returned to the dorms, the weight of his actions settled over him. He had taken another step to disrupt the killing game, but the path ahead still felt impossibly uncertain.

“Kaede wanted us to survive,” Kokichi thought, sitting on the edge of his bed. “If I have to keep burning, stealing, and lying to make that happen... then so be it.”

The days that followed were tense. Kokichi could feel Monokuma’s presence looming over him, the bear’s irritating little chuckles and taunts echoing in the back of his mind. He knew that Monokuma wasn’t stupid—he’d noticed something, especially after the Necronomicon had mysteriously disappeared.

Kokichi had been careful, though. He’d made sure to cover his tracks, lying low, letting the others think that the disappearance of the book was just another bizarre quirk of the killing game. Still, Kokichi could feel eyes on him, and he wasn’t the type to let a challenge go unanswered.

Then, one night, after the students had retired to their rooms, Kokichi was sitting in the library, pretending to read a book, when he heard the unmistakable whir of Monokuma’s robotic footsteps. Kokichi’s lips curled into a smirk as the bear’s voice echoed through the quiet hall.

“Hee-hee-hee! Kokichi Ouma, I need to speak with you.”

Kokichi didn’t flinch or react. He simply turned the page, pretending not to hear. But when Monokuma appeared in front of him, a familiar black-and-white figure with glowing red eyes, Kokichi raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the sadistic little bear himself. What’s up? Come to congratulate me for my spectacular work?” Kokichi teased, not even trying to hide his amusement.

Monokuma’s eyes narrowed, his voice dripping with suspicion. “Oh, no, no congratulations needed. I’m here because something’s been… bothering me. See, you’ve been acting a bit too clever lately. You’ve been getting ahead of the game, making sure the others don’t get too caught up in the motive videos, and now—poof! The Necronomicon disappears from right under my nose. How do you explain that, huh, Kokichi?”

Kokichi gave him a knowing smile, not a hint of nervousness in his demeanor. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess I’m just good at predicting things. You know, like an oracle, maybe?”

Monokuma’s eyes flickered, his gears grinding as he tried to figure out if Kokichi was lying or if he was truly that lucky. “Predicting things, huh? Is that your excuse? You’ve been one step ahead of me every time. Too many coincidences. You’ve been messing with my plans, Ouma.”

“Oh, Monokuma,” Kokichi chuckled, spinning his chair slightly. “You really think it’s all some kind of grand scheme? I’m just a little lucky, that’s all. A little bit of intuition, a little bit of charm, and—bam!—things fall into place. But hey, I wouldn’t call it being ahead if it’s just... how things happen naturally.”

Monokuma’s eye twitched, clearly annoyed but unable to argue the point. Kokichi had a way of being so casual about everything that it was nearly impossible to catch him in the act of something truly suspicious.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you, Ouma,” Monokuma growled, his tone lowering to something more threatening. “You’re treading a dangerous line. Keep it up, and I’ll have no choice but to make sure you’re… properly dealt with.”

Kokichi leaned forward slightly, his smirk never leaving his face. “Oh, don’t worry, Monokuma. I’m not breaking any rules, am I? No one saw me take the Necronomicon, and it’s not like I’m directly interfering with the game. I’m just playing along. You know, being a good little participant.”

Monokuma ground his teeth, but he had no evidence to accuse Kokichi of anything concrete. No rules had been broken, no lines had been crossed—just a string of unfortunate coincidences that no one could prove were anything more than that. In the end, Monokuma was forced to concede, his usual playful demeanor returning, albeit with an undercurrent of menace.

“Fine,” Monokuma huffed, crossing his arms. “You’ve got your lucky streak, Ouma. But don’t think this is over. I’ll be watching you.”

Kokichi just smiled, standing up from his chair and bowing mockingly. “I look forward to it, Monokuma! But, I’ll be honest—I’m getting bored of this little game. You really should start making it more interesting.”

Monokuma’s mechanical face twisted into an angry frown, but he couldn’t do much more. With a final, threatening glance, he turned and waddled off, his robotic footsteps echoing through the library.

Kokichi stood there for a moment, the tension in the air slowly dissipating. His heart was still racing, but he knew he’d outsmarted Monokuma—at least for now. He couldn’t afford to slip up. The more attention he drew, the more likely it was that Monokuma would find a way to make the game even more dangerous.

Kokichi chuckled to himself as he returned to his seat, picking up his book and pretending to read once more. “Heh, one step ahead, Monokuma. Always.”

And with that, he waited for the next move to unfold, knowing full well that the game was far from over.

The days after Monokuma had announced the opening of the remaining floors felt... odd. Kokichi could feel the tension rising, and he knew that something was coming—Monokuma had been giving them too many freedoms recently. But when the computer room on the fourth floor opened up, Kokichi’s suspicions were confirmed. It was just a matter of time before Monokuma unveiled the next motive, and he knew it would be something dangerous.

Sure enough, a few days later, Monokuma’s voice crackled through the intercom, signaling the arrival of the new motive.

"Listen up, kiddies!" Monokuma’s voice boomed. "The Neo World Program is now available on the fourth floor! It’s an exciting new opportunity for you to experience the world in a whole new way! All you have to do is plug in and immerse yourselves in the virtual realm. Who knows what awaits you? But don’t get too excited, or you’ll just disappoint yourselves! Hee-hee-hee!"

Kokichi rolled his eyes, already bored with Monokuma’s theatrics. He knew exactly what this was—Monokuma had always been about finding ways to manipulate the students, and this was no different. But the twist here was that Miu Iruma, the Ultimate Inventor, would inevitably try to “improve” the program. Kokichi had seen her tinkering with the device before. The question was, how would Miu try to use it to her advantage?

Kokichi quickly began to put the pieces together. Miu was brilliant, but not always the most reliable. She’d been a bit too eager to impress Monokuma in the past, and Kokichi suspected that she'd try to use the Neo World Program to kill him while he was plugged into the virtual world.

But Kokichi wasn’t about to let that happen. He needed to act first. The moment he had the chance, he began to form a plan.

It didn’t take long for Kokichi to find the right moment to get close to Miu. He was always good at slipping under people’s radars, and Miu was no exception. With her ego and constant need for validation, she was a little too easy to manipulate. Kokichi played the part of the enthusiastic, curious student, giving her attention and pretending to be fascinated by her modifications to the Neo World Program. He complimented her ideas, praised her skills, and even went as far as to offer a little fake admiration for her plans. Miu, eating it up, started letting her guard down around him.

After a few days of casual conversations, Kokichi knew he had Miu’s trust—or at least, enough of it. He also knew she’d likely try to use the virtual world to trap him, either by tampering with his avatar or manipulating the system. And the moment she left the computer room for some other “important work” (which she often did in the middle of her grandiose experiments), he would make his move.

The moment came when Miu announced she had to step away to tweak one of her other inventions. Kokichi’s heart began to race, but he maintained his calm façade. As soon as she left, he wasted no time. He grabbed a hammer that he had stashed earlier and made his way straight to the computer room.

The Neo World Program was on display in front of him, its massive console humming with life, just waiting for someone to plug in. Kokichi smirked. This would be easy. He didn’t need to be a genius to know how to destroy the thing. With a few calculated strikes, he could take it down and prevent Miu from ever using it against him.

He swung the hammer at the mainframe, the sharp sound of metal against metal ringing in the air. It wasn’t long before sparks flew, and the program began to glitch and malfunction. Kokichi’s grin widened as the system began to shut down. One more hit, and the Neo World Program would be completely useless.

With one final, satisfying swing, the screen flickered and went black, the lights inside the computer room dimming.

Kokichi stood there for a moment, panting lightly, before wiping his hands on his clothes and looking around the now-silent room. He had just stopped Miu from using her new toy to manipulate the others. He knew it was only a matter of time before Miu figured out what had happened, but by then, the damage would be done.

Kokichi made sure to leave no trace of his actions. The hammer was hidden in a corner, and he made sure to leave the room just as it had been before. By the time Miu returned, she’d think the program was still intact.

Back in his room, Kokichi let out a quiet, satisfied chuckle. He was always a step ahead, always pulling the strings from behind the scenes. And Miu, as clever as she was, had walked right into his trap.

The others had no idea what had just happened—how Miu’s plan had been thwarted before it could even begin. But Kokichi didn’t care. For now, the game would go on, and he would continue to play it better than anyone else.

He had one more step to take: figure out who the mastermind was and put an end to the game before things could escalate any further.

Miu, with her overconfidence and pride in her inventions, never once suspected Kokichi. She saw him as a harmless, if mischievous, little trickster who couldn’t possibly be a threat to her. To her, he was just another one of those students in the academy, and if she had to work with him to prove her genius, well, that was just another opportunity to show off her talents.

She would continue to help him, creating gadgets that Kokichi had hinted he could use to his advantage. The Electro Hammers, which could disable electronic devices with a single strike, were particularly useful in this environment filled with technology and surveillance. It wasn’t long before Kokichi found himself in possession of a few of these hammers, gleeful at the potential chaos he could create with them.

Miu’s Electro Bombs were even more potent. While the hammers could shut down single pieces of tech, the bombs had the power to disable large sections of Monokuma’s cameras, security systems, and other surveillance tech across the academy. It was the perfect tool for Kokichi to carry out his plans of sabotage without worrying about being watched.

Kokichi, of course, played the perfect role. He showered Miu with praise, pretending to be awed by her inventions and the incredible abilities of her Electro Hammers and Electro Bombs. He made sure to tell her how amazing she was, keeping her ego inflated and her trust in him secure. He knew how to keep her engaged in his little game of manipulation.

“You’re such a genius, Miu! I’m gonna need more of these, you know,” Kokichi had said with a broad grin, playing to her vanity. “No one else could’ve made something so awesome.”

Miu beamed, clearly pleased by the compliments. “Of course you need more! I’m the Ultimate Inventor, after all! Just tell me what you want, and I’ll make it! You’re lucky to have me around!”

Kokichi chuckled softly. Miu had no idea how much help she was providing him. And, though he would never admit it, he was starting to get a twisted sense of enjoyment from the fact that he was using her own genius against her. Her pride was her greatest weakness, and Kokichi was exploiting it every chance he got.

The Electro Hammers and Electro Bombs were more than just tools for destruction. They were a means to ensure his freedom, and the freedom of the others who might be at risk of becoming pawns in Monokuma’s game. Kokichi could disable cameras when he needed to sneak around, or cause a diversion when necessary. The bombs would allow him to disable large sections of the academy’s surveillance system, giving him the opportunity to move freely without the prying eyes of Monokuma.

At the same time, Kokichi was working hard to keep up appearances. He played the part of the carefree troublemaker, the boy who always had a prank up his sleeve, a smile on his face, and mischief in his eyes. But underneath all of that, he was calculating every move, planning for the eventual outcome of this game—and who would stand beside him when it was all over.

He knew it wasn’t just about survival. It was about control, about finding a way to manipulate the others just enough so that he could break the cycle of despair that Monokuma had created.

One day, after receiving another set of Electro Bombs from Miu, Kokichi found himself alone in his room, examining them with a careful eye. His fingers traced the small, compact devices, each one a small but deadly tool. The quiet hum of the academy’s lights and the occasional creak of the floor beneath his feet were the only sounds.

Kokichi smiled, his eyes glittering with anticipation. This was all part of the plan. He was always two steps ahead, ready to use whatever means necessary to keep Monokuma from getting the upper hand. And the tools Miu had given him? They would be essential in his game of cat and mouse.

No one else would suspect him—not even Miu, who would continue to trust him, continue to see him as an ally. And as long as she did, Kokichi knew that he had everything he needed to keep pushing forward, to get closer to the truth, and to eventually end this game once and for all.

But for now, he had to keep playing the part—make the others think he was just as clueless, just as carefree, just as unreliable as they expected. And he was good at it. He always had been.

The announcement echoed through the academy's speakers, as Monokuma's voice boomed in the halls.

"Attention, students! The Exisal Hangar and the 5th floor have been unlocked! Explore the new area at your leisure. Also, to spice things up, here’s your next motive: a mysterious keycard! Use it wisely, or not at all! Who knows what it opens? Perhaps the truth will set you free, or maybe it'll be your undoing! Hehehe..."

Kokichi’s eyes immediately sharpened, narrowing as the words sank in. The keycard. He had seen it before—the very same keycard that led to the outside world in the first loop. The one that would reveal the true, shattered state of the world. The one that exposed the truth no one was supposed to know.

The moment Monokuma made his entrance with the keycard, Kokichi had already known what it meant. His stomach twisted at the thought of the desolate outside world. He couldn’t let anyone see it. Not yet. Not when it could ruin everything.

When Monokuma, ever so casually, held the keycard out for the students to see, Kokichi’s mind raced. He wasn’t going to let anyone else get their hands on it. He wasn’t going to let anyone see the reality outside of the academy until he was ready. And for that, the keycard had to be destroyed—or better yet, hidden where no one would find it.

The moment Monokuma’s attention drifted away, Kokichi was already in motion, slipping through the crowd. He darted forward, quick and precise, reaching out and snatching the keycard right from Monokuma's hand. The motion was fluid, practiced, and no one even noticed until it was too late.

Monokuma stared at Kokichi, his one visible eye twitching with frustration, though he said nothing. Kokichi gave him a wink, the same mischievous glint in his eye that made everyone second-guess whether they could trust him. But it was too late for Monokuma to stop him now.

Kokichi made a hasty exit, retreating to his room without a second thought. His heart raced, the adrenaline still rushing through his veins. His fingers wrapped tightly around the keycard, feeling the cold, metallic surface against his palm. He quickly locked the door behind him, glancing around his room to ensure no one was following him.

The closet. He opened it with a small grin, revealing the stash he’d been carefully hiding—the motive videos, the broken Necronomicon, and now, the keycard. He slid it into the back corner of the closet, tucking it under some discarded clothing. It was a perfect hiding spot, one no one would think to check.

Kokichi let out a deep breath, his grin widening. No one else would see the outside world—at least, not until he was ready for them to. Not until he had control. He couldn’t let that knowledge slip out too early, not while he was still in the game.

He stood there for a moment, just staring at the closet, letting his thoughts settle. He knew that with this keycard, he could change everything. But he needed time. Time to find the mastermind. Time to figure out the right moment to reveal it all.

Kokichi turned away from the closet and flopped onto his bed with a soft chuckle. The others would be frantic when they couldn’t find the keycard, and they would never suspect him. After all, he had a reputation for being unpredictable. No one could figure him out. Not even Monokuma.

Still, he couldn’t let his guard down. Monokuma might be mad, but Kokichi knew how to play the long game. He would find the right moment to use this keycard. But for now, it would stay hidden, just another tool in his arsenal. And when the time came, it would be his ticket to the truth—his truth.

He closed his eyes, knowing that the real game was just beginning.

For the next few days, Kokichi kept his pace steady and sharp. The academy’s halls felt increasingly oppressive with each passing moment, like the walls themselves were closing in. Yet, he found himself drawn to the hidden corners of the school, the places where secrets were kept locked away, just waiting to be uncovered. And one by one, he found them—Flashback Lights.

He’d always known the value of knowledge, especially knowledge that could alter the game. These Flashback Lights weren’t just simple objects to him; they were potential weapons. The lights held memories—forgotten fragments of the outside world, things Monokuma didn’t want the students to know. Things that could completely disrupt the killing game if they were unlocked.

But Kokichi wasn’t going to let anyone else have them. Not when he was so close to the truth. Not when he had so many pieces of the puzzle already in his possession. Each time he found a new light, he destroyed it before anyone could get a chance to see it. There would be no sudden bursts of remembered memories that could alter the course of the game. He couldn’t let that happen.

The first Flashback Light had been hidden in a dusty storage closet near the music room, just waiting to be discovered. Kokichi had found it during one of his countless strolls through the halls. It had been sitting innocently on a shelf, almost like a trap waiting to spring. He’d smirked as he picked it up, inspecting it closely, then tossed it into the nearest trash bin.

The second Flashback Light had been in the library. It had been more cleverly hidden this time, tucked behind some old books on a shelf no one would normally check. But Kokichi’s sharp eyes had caught it. He’d taken it, stared at it for a moment, then smashed it on the ground with his heel. It shattered into pieces, and the small bits of light fizzled out like dying stars.

And so it went—each time he found a Flashback Light, he destroyed it. A third time in the hallway near the student dorms. A fourth in the storage room beside the gym. Each time, he took it upon himself to eliminate the threat, before anyone else could use it to unravel the mystery of the outside world.

It wasn’t just about keeping the information from others. No, Kokichi had other reasons for keeping this knowledge from slipping into the wrong hands. If the others remembered the outside world, what would happen? Would they try to escape? Would they all decide to break free, trying to reveal the truth? No, that wouldn’t do. He had a plan, and the plan required them to remain in the dark.

Kokichi knew that the more time he spent uncovering these lights, the closer he was getting to his goal—figuring out who the mastermind was and eventually exposing the truth, but on his terms. Only when he was ready. He wasn’t about to let some innocent memories throw off everything he had worked for.

It was strange, almost ironic. The others, unknowingly, were so close to uncovering the reality of the world beyond the walls of the academy. But Kokichi couldn’t let them reach it—not yet. They were all blind to what was really happening, to the destruction outside the academy, to the aftermath of the killing game that had already taken place.

Kokichi had to smile, though, because deep down, he knew the game was about to get even more fun. If the others were starting to feel trapped, uncertain, and scared, that only made his plans easier. They would start questioning things, which meant they would start looking for answers. And when they started looking, Kokichi would be right there, guiding them down a path they couldn’t see—one that led to the mastermind’s door.

But until then, he’d keep destroying those Flashback Lights, making sure no one else would be able to escape from their ignorance. The truth could wait. For now, Kokichi was the one pulling the strings, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

One evening, after another long day of carefully destroying the Flashback Lights, Kokichi found himself wandering the halls, his mind buzzing with curiosity. He’d been so focused on the small pieces of the puzzle—the motives, the video swapping, and the nefarious actions of Monokuma—that he hadn’t paid much attention to the details of the academy itself. That was until something strange caught his eye.

It wasn’t in a hallway, nor was it in a classroom he frequented. Instead, it was in one of the classrooms he rarely passed by. The room was seemingly empty, the lights off, but as he was walking by, he noticed something out of place—a faint flicker of light coming from under the door. It was subtle, but it caught his attention, and for a moment, he hesitated.

Something told him to go inside.

He crept up to the door and gently pushed it open, peeking his head inside. The room looked like any other classroom—desks arranged in neat rows, a few bulletin boards on the walls. But what he didn’t expect to find was a small machine at the back of the room, tucked under one of the desks, its lights blinking softly.

Curiosity overcame him, and Kokichi quietly approached the machine. It was no bigger than a briefcase, but the strange humming sound it emitted told him that it was doing something important—something that would be worth looking into.

He bent down and pulled open a drawer attached to the machine. Inside, there were several small, glowing orbs—each of them identical to the Flashback Lights he had been destroying. But the machine was clearly connected to these orbs, and he noticed that one of them was still attached, slowly charging up.

A sudden realization hit him.

The Flashback Lights weren’t natural. They weren’t memories from the outside world—they were manufactured, created by this machine. The lights they’d been finding, the ones that triggered glimpses into a fake past—everything was a lie. Kokichi’s mind raced as the pieces of the puzzle snapped into place.

He quickly examined the machine, carefully inspecting its mechanics. It was designed to produce these lights, to fabricate memories. Whoever had built this device had made it clear that the memories contained in the Flashback Lights weren’t real—they were mere illusions, meant to manipulate the students into thinking they had some sort of connection to the outside world.

But then... why? Why go through all this trouble to fake memories, to distort the truth? And more importantly—if the outside world wasn’t destroyed, then what did that mean for the killing game?

Kokichi could feel a chill run down his spine. If the outside world hadn’t been destroyed, if this was all some sort of sick manipulation, then what was the real purpose of the game? Who was behind this, and what did they want?

His thoughts darted in every direction, but one thing became abundantly clear—the game was bigger than he’d imagined. It wasn’t just about keeping the students locked in this academy. It was a show, a spectacle, broadcasted to someone. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the entire killing game was a form of entertainment, and they were being watched. But by who?

Kokichi’s smirk faltered, his usual confidence replaced with a creeping doubt. This was no longer just a game of survival. This was a game with an audience—an audience that had to be enjoying the chaos. The idea of someone watching them, getting off on the suffering of these students, made his stomach churn.

But Kokichi also knew one thing—he couldn’t let the others find out. They couldn’t learn the truth. If they did, it would throw everything into chaos, and Monokuma would make sure of that. He had to keep playing his part, to keep the others in the dark about what he had discovered.

But still, the thought gnawed at him. The game was more than it appeared. They weren’t trapped in a destroyed world. They were trapped in a twisted simulation, controlled by someone far more powerful than any of them realized.

Kokichi didn’t know how long he stayed there, staring at the machine in front of him, but he eventually shut the drawer and backed away, leaving the classroom as quietly as he had entered. The answers were still unclear, but one thing was certain: he was no longer just playing Monokuma’s game. Now, he was playing something far more dangerous—a game with people who wanted to manipulate reality itself.

As Kokichi walked back to his room, his mind raced with questions. Who was behind this? What did they want from them? And most importantly—how could he use this newfound knowledge to his advantage?

He knew he had to tread carefully, but one thing was for sure: this was far from over. The game had just begun.

Kokichi’s investigation had taken him to the farthest reaches of the academy—every nook, every cranny. But one area had remained untouched by his searching hands: the girls’ bathrooms. It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered them, but there was a simple reason he hadn’t explored them. He’d never wanted to break his moral code—his boundaries, his principles that he had carefully set for himself.

But the more he thought about it, the more the idea of exploring those bathrooms gnawed at him. He had already searched every accessible surface in the school. Every classroom. Every hallway. Every hidden corridor he could find. But the girls’ bathrooms, where Tsumugi and Maki would spend their time, remained an unknown variable.

This time, he couldn’t afford to let his principles get in the way. This wasn’t just about him anymore; it was about uncovering the truth, about playing his part in the game. With his mind set on the task at hand, Kokichi waited for the dead of night to cover his tracks. When the school was quiet, and everyone was either asleep or busy with their own agendas, he snuck to the girls’ bathrooms.

He had learned from past experience how the cameras worked, so he carefully avoided their gaze. His heart pounded in his chest with each step he took toward the restrooms, but he was resolute. He had no choice but to push past his own discomfort.

After several tense moments, Kokichi arrived at the girls' bathroom closest to the library. He cracked open the door, glancing inside to confirm that it was empty. It felt like his mind was buzzing with a hundred different thoughts at once, but he pushed them aside. His eyes scanned the walls and floor, looking for anything unusual.

That’s when he found it.

Behind one of the bathroom stalls, a section of the wall had been scratched—carefully, almost expertly—but it was enough to reveal a hidden passageway behind the thin layer of drywall. Kokichi’s pulse quickened, but he kept his cool. He’d found something important, something that could bring him closer to the truth.

He didn’t hesitate. With his usual grin plastered on his face, he pushed through the passageway, the hidden door creaking slightly as it opened into a dimly lit, dusty room. The air was stale, filled with the smell of old machinery and unused equipment. His eyes darted around, scanning the room for anything of interest.

And then he saw it.

In the far corner of the room, an imposing machine stood—dark and ominous. It was unlike anything Kokichi had seen before. The label on the side read “Motherkuma.” He approached cautiously, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. There was no mistaking it. This was where Monokuma’s creations came from. It was responsible for generating the army of Monokumas that had haunted them since the beginning.

But that wasn’t the most disturbing thing.

On the floor, near the base of the machine, Kokichi noticed something else—a trash can. He approached it with hesitation, but curiosity got the better of him. Inside, he found an object that made his stomach churn. It was a clean shot put ball, but what struck him the most was the pink thread wrapped around it.

He turned the ball over in his hands, his mind working furiously. His thoughts turned to Kaede—her execution. The way she had been framed. The ball, the thread... it all clicked. He remembered the details from her trial, the way the evidence had been twisted. The thread on the shot put ball connected it to her execution, and it was all starting to make sense now.

Kokichi’s mind began to whirl. This wasn’t just about the ball. It was about the setup, the framing, the way someone had made sure Kaede would be blamed. It was all too perfect, too intentional.

But his thoughts didn’t stop there.

He looked around the room again and his gaze landed on another door. It was slightly ajar, hidden behind the shadows. It was the secret door. The one that led directly to the library. The very library where the infamous hidden passageway had been discovered, the one that had led to Kaede’s downfall. Kokichi felt his heart rate spike as he realized just how meticulously everything had been planned.

This was no coincidence.

Kaede had been framed.

The ball, the pink thread, the room that linked back to the library—it all pointed to one conclusion. Someone had set Kaede up, planted the evidence, and manipulated the entire situation to make sure she took the fall for a murder she didn’t commit. Someone had used the secret passageway, had used the hidden resources of the school to cover their tracks and pin the blame on her.

Kokichi’s mind raced. He wasn’t sure who had done it yet, but he knew one thing for sure: Kaede had been the victim of an elaborate plot. And if there was one thing Kokichi knew about plots, it was that he could turn them to his advantage.

This was the kind of information that could change the course of the game. This wasn’t just about surviving anymore. This was about exposing the mastermind behind it all—and Kokichi was more than ready to play that role.

With a final glance at the hidden door, he turned and slipped back through the passageway. His mind was already plotting his next move. If the mastermind was using such underhanded tactics, it meant they were desperate. And desperation always left cracks in their schemes.

Kokichi couldn’t wait to exploit them.

The following morning, Kokichi entered the dining hall with a confident, almost gleeful expression on his face, his steps light but deliberate. As usual, he was met with puzzled looks from his classmates. They’d been through a lot since the last trial, and everyone was still reeling from the loss of Kaede and Rantaro. But Kokichi had a different agenda today, and he wasn’t about to keep it to himself.

Standing on one of the chairs, he banged his fists against the table, demanding attention. “Alright, everyone, listen up!” His voice rang through the room, and despite the uncertainty lingering in the air, all eyes turned to him. “I want a retrial for Kaede.”

A mixture of confusion and disbelief swept over the group. Shuichi raised an eyebrow, his voice hesitant. “Retrial? Kokichi, what do you mean?”

Kokichi smirked, enjoying the attention. “I’ve found something big, something that’ll prove Kaede’s innocence.” His eyes flickered around the room, landing on Tsumugi and the other girls. “And before you get all suspicious, yes, I did go in the girls' bathrooms.”

That got a reaction. The girls stiffened, exchanging wary glances. Kokichi’s expression didn’t falter; if anything, his grin widened. “But it’s for a good reason! Trust me on this one!”

The room fell into silence as everyone waited for him to explain. He leaned forward, his voice lowering slightly. “I found a hidden passageway. And that passageway leads directly to the room where Kaede’s execution was set up, where she was framed for Rantaro’s murder.”

A few gasps echoed around the room. “What do you mean, ‘framed’?” Maki asked, looking genuinely intrigued despite herself.

Kokichi’s eyes shone with purpose. “It’s all connected! The hidden passage, the clean shot put ball, and the pink thread—all of it was planted to make Kaede look guilty. Someone set her up, and I know exactly who it is.” His eyes narrowed, locking onto Tsumugi for a split second, then sweeping over the others. He could feel the tension building, could sense that everyone was waiting for the truth.

Monokuma’s face twisted into a scowl. “Fine! You want a retrial? You’ll get it, but don’t think for a second that this is going to be easy. You’ll have to convince everyone, and you know how much I love a good trial.”

And just like that, Kokichi had set the stage for the next round of chaos. As everyone reluctantly agreed to the retrial, Kokichi could feel the satisfaction of having disrupted Monokuma’s plan once again. The wheels were turning in his mind, and he knew that he wasn’t done yet.

Tsumugi, for her part, remained unnervingly calm, but Kokichi could see the flicker of unease behind her eyes. She wasn’t as perfect as she thought she was.

The retrial would be his opportunity to expose everything. All he had to do now was wait for the right moment.

The courtroom was tense, the atmosphere heavy with uncertainty. Everyone had gathered again for a class trial, unsure of what the outcome would be, but one thing was for sure: Kokichi had demanded a retrial and had spent the last few days gathering evidence, though no one knew exactly what he had found.

Monokuma stood at the center, bouncing on his feet with a grin. “Alright, alright! Time for another thrilling trial, kids! I hope you’re all ready to play! This is gonna be fun!”

The bear’s usual mocking tone only added to the weight in the room. Kokichi sat at his usual spot, a smug grin stretched across his face. He had a plan, and he knew it would work. After all, everything he had uncovered led to one conclusion, one that no one could deny once he revealed it.

As the trial proceeded, the usual questioning started. People spoke their minds, throwing out suspicions, pointing fingers, but Kokichi remained mostly silent. His eyes flicked over the group, assessing their faces, reading their reactions as they debated the details of the murder. He wasn’t in a hurry to reveal his hand just yet. The time wasn’t right.

Then, it was his turn.

Kokichi stood up abruptly, cutting through the noise. “Alright, listen up, everyone! I’ve got something to say.”

Everyone fell quiet, eyes turning to him, waiting. Kokichi leaned forward, resting his hands on the table and smiling like a cat who had caught a mouse.

“You’ve all been so focused on Kaede, but you’ve missed the real culprit,” Kokichi began, his voice steady, but his words cutting through the tension like a knife. “It wasn’t Kaede who killed Rantaro. You’ve been so busy blaming her, and yet, you all missed something important. Something I discovered.”

The room grew still. Kokichi’s grin widened.

“I spent days searching every corner of this place,” he continued, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and something darker. “And guess what I found? I found the real mastermind, hiding in plain sight, pulling the strings and framing others for their crimes.”

Shuichi frowned, clearly confused. “Who? Who are you talking about?”

Kokichi smirked, enjoying the moment. He stood up straighter, his voice ringing out with finality.

“It’s Tsumugi.”

A stunned silence filled the room. All eyes turned to Tsumugi, who was sitting still, her expression unreadable. Her hands clenched tightly around the edge of the desk, but she didn’t speak.

Kokichi didn’t give her the chance. “I know you’ve been behind everything from the start. You framed Kaede for Rantaro’s murder. Kaede had missed the shot, and you used your own shot put ball to kill Rantaro. You hid the ball that didn’t have blood—Kaede’s ball. But you didn’t realize that it had a pink thread from when it was hidden in her backpack. And yet you made sure she’d take the fall. You had the perfect alibi, didn’t you?”

Tsumugi’s gaze flickered, but she said nothing.

Kokichi paced in front of the group, his voice gaining strength with each word. “You were in the bathroom the night Rantaro was killed, and you knew about the secret passageway. You had access to the room where the Motherkuma machine was hiding—everything that controls the Monokumas, the cameras, and even the nanokumas that spy on us. I found it. I found your little hideaway, Tsumugi.”

He could see the shock in everyone’s eyes now, even Monokuma’s usual smirk faltered for a moment.

Kokichi continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “It wasn’t Kaede’s fault at all. She didn’t murder Rantaro. No, you did it. You framed her, and I can prove it.”

The room shifted with unease. Tsumugi’s hands shook ever so slightly, but she remained calm, too calm. Kokichi felt a pang of satisfaction knowing he had her cornered.

“It’s funny,” Kokichi added, “I didn’t even need all the fancy technology to figure it out. Just a little old-fashioned sleuthing and a keen eye. You thought you could hide your tracks, but you underestimated me. And now, here we are, Tsumugi. Everyone can see the truth now.”

Monokuma let out a chuckle, a strange mix of disbelief and amusement in his voice. “Oh? So this is the big reveal, huh? Tsumugi’s the mastermind? Well, that’s a twist, I guess! A real shocking turn of events!”

But Kokichi wasn’t done. He turned to the others, his expression growing more serious. “Don’t you get it? She’s been manipulating all of you this whole time. Using the cameras, using the Monokumas, pulling the strings and playing us all. And we’ve all been too blind to see it.”

Kokichi leaned back, his voice dropping to a softer tone, but still filled with conviction. “This isn’t just about Rantaro’s death. This is about the whole damn killing game. Tsumugi’s the mastermind, and we’ve all been dancing in her little game. But no more.”

Tsumugi finally spoke, her voice calm but tinged with an edge. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Kokichi. You think you’ve figured it all out, but you’re wrong. You have no idea who I really am.”

Kokichi laughed, a sound that filled the room like an echo. “Oh, Tsumugi, don’t act all high and mighty. You’re the one who’s been pulling the strings from the shadows. It’s all over now.”

With that, Kokichi sat down, feeling a wave of satisfaction wash over him as he watched the others slowly piece together the truth. The mastermind had been exposed, and there was no turning back now.

The class trial continued, but the direction was clear. Tsumugi was done. The truth had come to light, and with it, Kokichi had done what he needed to do.

Tsumugi’s revelation echoed through the trial room, as the weight of her words settled over everyone like a suffocating fog. The room was eerily silent, save for the soft hum of Monokuma’s mechanical voice. Even Kokichi, who had been smugly awaiting the final blow, felt his grin falter as Tsumugi continued.

“Yes, it was me,” she said, her voice cold and even. “I framed Kaede. I made sure she would take the fall for Rantaro’s murder, but that’s not the most important part of the story. You’re all forgetting something crucial—something that you won’t want to hear.”

The others were stunned into silence, but Kokichi’s heart began to race. He could feel the tension in the room shift, a sudden heaviness pulling at his chest. He didn’t expect this. What was she saying? What could possibly be worse than what they’d already uncovered?

Tsumugi’s lips curled into a slight, twisted smile. “It’s true. All of it. You think you’re real? You think your memories are your own? Well, let me shatter that illusion for you.”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, and Kokichi’s mind spun as he tried to process what she was saying.

“This whole game, this killing game… It’s the 53rd season of a reality TV show. A show called Danganronpa,” Tsumugi continued. “And the whole world’s been watching. They’ve seen every one of your deaths. Every one of your struggles. They love it. The audience adores it. And worst of all… You are the stars. The actors. You were all chosen to be a part of this game, and none of you even remember it. Not your true selves, not your real lives. Everything you thought you knew about your past? It’s all fabricated.”

The room fell deathly still as the truth hit everyone like a freight train. Kokichi felt a chill run down his spine as the implications of Tsumugi’s words began to sink in. They were... they were all just characters in a show? Fiction? He wasn’t real? None of this was real?

"Wait," Himiko stammered, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You mean... we weren’t even alive before this? Our memories... none of it’s real?"

Tsumugi nodded, a twisted gleam in her eye. “Exactly. You were all fans of Danganronpa—obsessed with it. You watched the killing games and wished you could be a part of it. So, you made the decision to have your memories erased. You gave up your past lives to become the very people you saw on TV. Each of you is a character, a role you volunteered to play in the most twisted, most popular show in the world.”

Shuichi’s voice trembled as he spoke, barely able to comprehend what he was hearing. “No… that can’t be true. We had lives. We had families… we had...”

Tsumugi laughed softly, the sound almost mocking. “Oh, sweet Shuichi. You wanted to live your lives as heroes, didn’t you? But you’re not. You’re not heroes, and you never were. You’re all just actors on a stage, playing your parts in a show for the audience’s entertainment. Your names? Your talents? All of it was chosen for you. Every single one of you has been living someone else’s life.”

Kokichi was silent, staring at her, his mind whirling. This… this was what he’d been afraid of. The truth, the one he’d been digging for, was worse than any of them could have imagined. He wasn’t a hero in a story, he wasn’t the manipulative mastermind trying to break free—he was nothing more than a character in a twisted drama. And they were all trapped in it.

Monokuma’s laugh interrupted the silence, the bear’s voice dripping with mockery. “Hoo hoo hoo! That’s right, kids! You’re all just characters in a little game for the whole world to watch! The 53rd season of Danganronpa, broadcast live! And the best part? You all volunteered for it. Isn’t that hilarious?”

Kokichi felt a sick feeling rise in his stomach as he looked around at the faces of his classmates, now fully realizing the implications of what Tsumugi had revealed. They weren’t real. None of them were.

“And I bet you’re all wondering why,” Tsumugi continued, her voice soft but filled with a venomous glee. “Why would you agree to this? Why erase your memories and become part of this game? Well, the answer is simple. You all wanted it. You wanted to experience the thrill of the killing game for yourselves. You wanted to be the stars of the show, even if it meant losing everything that made you who you were.”

Kokichi’s heart clenched. He felt a rush of anger and disbelief flood through him. This wasn’t just some game. This was their reality. They’d chosen to become pawns in a sick, twisted spectacle for the world’s entertainment.

Tsumugi’s eyes met his, a knowing smirk on her face. “But here’s the thing, Kokichi—what you’re trying to do, what you’ve been fighting for… none of it matters. It’s all been set up for you. You were all destined to be here. You’re not fighting for freedom. You’re fighting for the audience’s entertainment.”

Kokichi clenched his fists, his smile faltering for the first time. His heart raced with a mixture of disbelief, anger, and confusion. Was he really just a character in a story, a pawn in a game that didn’t even care about him?

He glanced around at the faces of his classmates. The people who were supposed to be his allies, his friends, were nothing more than... well, nothing more than faces on a screen. He’d fought so hard for them to be free, but in the end, was it all meaningless?

“None of this is real,” Kokichi muttered under his breath, the reality of the situation crashing down on him. “None of it.”

The room seemed to close in around him, and for the first time in this twisted killing game, Kokichi felt something that wasn’t his usual chaotic bravado—he felt a sense of hopelessness.

Tsumugi smiled knowingly at him. “See, Kokichi? You’re not the only one who figured it out.”

The world they thought they knew was gone. The lives they thought they had were nothing but illusions. They were nothing but characters in a show—Danganronpa—and the audience would always be watching.

Tsumugi's smirk grew wider as she stepped back, her arms spreading as if she were addressing a rapt audience. "Ah, but that's the beauty of Danganronpa! Kiibou here isn’t just one of you. He’s the bridge between this game and the audience. You all thought he was just another participant, but he was made to be their eyes, their voice. Every choice he’s made, every move, has been shaped by the audience’s desires. Isn’t that right, Kiibou?"

Kiibou’s mechanical eyes widened, a flicker of confusion and dread crossing his face. "What? That... that can't be true!"

Tsumugi chuckled, tilting her head mockingly. "Oh, sweet Kiibou. Why do you think your perspective has always been so important? Why do you think the Monokubs and I never interfered with you? The audience has been living through you this entire time. They see what you see. Feel what you feel. You’re their favorite little camera."

"No," Kiibou whispered, his voice trembling. "I... I have free will! I’ve made my own choices!"

Tsumugi shook her head, her gaze filled with condescension. "Have you, though? Every choice you thought you made, every path you’ve taken—it's all been influenced by the audience. They wanted to see your reactions, your struggles, your victories. You’re not just a robot, Kiibou. You’re the perfect vessel for their entertainment."

Kiibou staggered back as if he’d been physically struck, his hands trembling at his sides. "No… no, that can’t be true. I thought I was fighting with everyone… I thought I was one of you."

"You’re still one of us, Kiibou!" Shuichi’s voice rang out, sharp and resolute. His fists clenched as he stepped forward, his gaze locked on Tsumugi. "Don’t listen to her. You’re more than a camera for the audience. You’re our friend, and you’ve been fighting alongside us this whole time!"

"Fighting?" Tsumugi mocked, laughing softly. "You call this fighting? Shuichi, you’re just playing the role we gave you. The Ultimate Detective, the hero who brings everything to light. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re any different from the rest."

"That’s enough!" Shuichi’s voice cracked, but his determination didn’t waver. He stepped forward, his hands balled into fists. "We can’t let this show go on any longer! We’ve all suffered for real thanks to this killing game. Real lives were sacrificed! Kaede and Rantaro didn’t deserve this. None of us did. This isn’t just a game anymore—it’s our lives!"

The others turned to Shuichi, their expressions a mixture of despair and cautious hope. His words seemed to resonate, cutting through the oppressive weight of Tsumugi’s revelations.

"We have to avenge the deaths of the previous games," Shuichi continued, his voice rising with passion. "And of this one. We can’t let this cycle of violence and despair keep going. We have to fight back! Not just for ourselves, but for everyone who’s been a victim of these twisted killing games!"

Maki crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as she stepped forward to stand beside Shuichi. "He’s right. We’ve lost too much already. If we don’t end this now, it’ll just keep happening. I’m not going to let anyone else suffer because of this sick show."

Himiko sniffled but wiped her tears away, determination hardening her gaze. "Y-Yeah. I’ve had enough of this, too. If we’re just characters in a story, then fine. But we’re going to write the ending ourselves!"

Even Gonta nodded, his large hands clenching into fists. "Gonta agree! Gonta want to protect everyone! No more killing games!"

One by one, the remaining students rallied behind Shuichi, their determination growing stronger as they faced Tsumugi and Monokuma. Kokichi, still reeling from the revelations, finally found his voice.

"Well, well," he said, his usual smirk creeping back onto his face. "Looks like we’ve got a rebellion on our hands. I guess this Ultimate Supreme Leader should probably join in, huh? After all, what kind of leader would I be if I didn’t help take down the biggest villain of all?"

Tsumugi’s smug demeanor faltered for the first time, her gaze narrowing as she looked at the unified group. "You’re all making a big mistake. The audience loves this. They’ll never let you end it. This is bigger than any of you!"

Shuichi stepped forward, his determination blazing in his eyes. "Maybe it is. But we’re not doing this for the audience. We’re doing this for Kaede. For Rantaro. For everyone who’s been hurt by this game. We’re ending this killing game—once and for all."

And with those words, the students stood together, their resolve stronger than ever, ready to fight back against the machine that had turned their lives into a spectacle.

Kokichi's grin faltered as Shuichi's speech resonated through the courtroom. The unified resolve of his classmates, the fiery determination to end the killing game, filled the air. They were ready to stand together, to defy Tsumugi and Monokuma, to take control of their fates.

And that’s when Kokichi realized he had made a terrible mistake.

His heart sank. If they succeeded in ending the killing game here and now, the time loop wouldn’t reset. This reality, with Kaede and Rantaro’s tragic deaths, would become permanent. Worse, Kokichi would never have another chance to fix things—to save everyone, to prevent the murders from happening in the first place.

He had to act fast.

The room buzzed with tension as Shuichi stepped closer to Monokuma, his voice ringing out. "We’ve made our decision. We’re going to end this game—together!"

Kokichi took a step forward, the smirk returning to his face like a mask. "Together, huh? How touching. But I hate to break it to you, Shuichi, detektiv-kun, that’s not the smartest move."

Shuichi blinked, caught off guard. "What are you talking about, Kokichi?"

Kokichi spread his arms wide, his voice laced with mockery but his mind racing. "If we all vote and end this game, then what? Yay, we’re free, and the world gets its happy ending, right? Wrong! The outside world is a dumpster fire of despair! You think this killing game is bad? Out there, things are a billion times worse!"

Maki glared at him, her arms crossed. "Stop wasting our time, Kokichi. We’re not listening to your lies."

"Oh, it’s not a lie, my dear Ultimate Assassin." Kokichi’s tone darkened, his expression unusually serious. "Think about it. If this really is a show, like Tsumugi said, then why would the audience ever let us win? They love despair. They feed on it. And if we end things here, do you really think they’ll just let us go? No. They’ll want more."

Himiko hesitated, her brows furrowing. "W-What are you saying?"

Kokichi clenched his fists, forcing a laugh to cover his inner turmoil. "I’m saying we can’t end the game this way. If we vote and declare the mastermind, we’re just giving the audience their grand finale. But if we don’t vote—if we refuse to play by their rules—then we take the game away from them entirely!"

Tsumugi’s smug expression twisted into confusion, then amusement. "Oh, Kokichi, you really are a little wild card, aren’t you? But let me remind you, if no one votes, you all die. Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to avoid this whole time?"

Kokichi’s grin turned feral. "Oh, I know. That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Let’s all die together. No voting, no winner, no grand finale. Just one massive middle finger to the audience and their stupid killing game!"

The room erupted into chaos.

"Kokichi, have you lost your mind?" Shuichi shouted, his voice shaking with disbelief.

"You can’t be serious!" Maki snapped, her glare icy.

Kokichi turned to them, his expression deadly serious. "Listen to me! If we all die, it’ll mean this game resets. I... I know it sounds insane, but I have a way to fix this. I can save everyone—Kaede, Rantaro, all of us. But I need to start over. If we end things here, there’s no going back. This is the only way!"

Shuichi stared at him, wide-eyed. "Start over? What are you talking about?"

Kokichi’s voice softened, his grin fading. "I can’t explain it. You’ll just have to trust me. If we end the game here, it’ll all be for nothing. Please... don’t vote."

The others looked at each other, uncertainty and fear written across their faces.

Tsumugi, watching the scene unfold, clapped her hands mockingly. "Wow, Kokichi. You’re really going all out with this. I’ll admit, I didn’t see this twist coming. Too bad it’s all meaningless. No one’s going to listen to you."

Kokichi shot her a glare. "Shut up, cosplay queen. I’m not talking to you."

Turning back to his classmates, he raised his voice. "I know it’s asking a lot. But if you trust me, if you want a chance at a better ending—a real ending—you’ll let this game reset. Please."

The courtroom fell into a tense silence, the weight of Kokichi’s plea hanging heavy in the air.

Shuichi furrowed his brows. "Are you saying... you’ve been stuck in some kind of time loop?"

"Exactly!" Kokichi snapped his fingers. "Every time we all die, the loop resets. I go back to the beginning, with all my memories intact. And each time, I’ve tried to stop the killings, to save as many people as possible."

He began pacing, his voice rising with each word. "I switched Kirumi’s motive video with mine because I knew if she saw hers, she’d kill someone. I stole everyone else’s motive videos to stop them from seeing their own. I burned the Necronomicon because I knew Angie would use it to bring someone back, and that would lead to another murder."

Kokichi’s gaze swept across his classmates, his tone becoming more urgent. "I destroyed the flashback lights because they’re fake memories meant to manipulate us. I even smashed the Neo World Program’s computer before Miu could use it to kill me. And the keycard? I hid it in my closet so no one could find out what the outside world looks like."

"You’ve been sabotaging the game," Maki said, her voice low and sharp.

"Exactly!" Kokichi exclaimed, his voice ringing with conviction. "I’ve done everything I could to stop this stupid killing game, to save you all from yourselves. And yet, no matter what I do, people still die. Kaede, Rantaro... it’s always the same."

Tears welled in Himiko’s eyes as she whispered, "You’ve been carrying all this by yourself...?"

Kokichi’s smirk returned, but it was weak and unconvincing. "Well, yeah. I’m Kokichi Oma, Supreme Leader of Evil, remember? I couldn’t exactly waltz in and say, ‘Hey, I’ve lived this game before. Trust me!’" He chuckled bitterly.

Shuichi stepped forward, his voice trembling. "But... why are you telling us all this now? Why wait until this trial?"

"Because this is it," Kokichi said, his voice soft but firm. "This is my last chance to fix everything. Tsumugi framed Kaede. She’s the mastermind. And if we all vote for her, the game will end—but Kaede and Rantaro will still be gone. Their deaths will be permanent. I can’t let that happen."

He turned to his classmates, his violet eyes pleading. "If we refuse to vote, we’ll all be executed. And then, the loop will reset. I can start over and save them. I can stop this from ever happening. But I need you to trust me. Please."

Silence fell over the courtroom. The others exchanged uncertain glances, torn between disbelief and the sincerity in Kokichi’s voice.

Tsumugi broke the tension with a laugh, her voice dripping with mockery. "Wow, Kokichi. That’s quite the story. But do you really think they’re going to throw their lives away on a gamble? You’re asking them to die, for you."

Kokichi spun to face her, his smirk gone. "I’m not asking them to die for me. I’m asking them to die for Kaede. For Rantaro. For everyone we’ve lost. For the chance to finally win—not for the audience, but for ourselves."

His classmates looked at him, the weight of his words sinking in. The choice was theirs to make, but Kokichi knew he’d done everything he could. Now, it was up to them.

The courtroom fell silent as Kokichi finished explaining his plan, his gaze shifting across the room. Each of his classmates wore an expression of shock, confusion, or outright disbelief. No one could process the weight of what Kokichi was asking them to do.

Finally, Shuichi broke the silence, his voice trembling. "You want us... to not vote? To let ourselves be executed? That’s... insane."

Kokichi’s smirk faded, replaced by an uncharacteristic seriousness. "It’s the only way. If we vote, someone gets blamed, the killing game goes on, and more people die. But if we don’t vote, Monokuma has no choice but to execute all of us—and that resets the loop."

Maki’s glare could cut through steel. "Do you even hear yourself? You’re asking us to willingly die, to trust you on nothing but your word. How do we know this loop even exists? How do we know you’re not just lying again?"

Kokichi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I get it. It sounds crazy. But think about everything I’ve done up to now—stealing the motive videos, burning the Necronomicon, destroying the flashback lights. I did all of that because I knew what would happen if I didn’t. I’ve been through this before, and I’m telling you, this is the only way to end it."

"But... what if you’re wrong?" Himiko whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. "What if we really die, and that’s it? No reset, no second chance... just nothing."

Kokichi looked away, his hands clenched into fists. "If I’m wrong, then I’ve failed all of you. But if I’m right, I can stop this before it ever happens. I can save Kaede, Rantaro, and everyone else who’s died. I can save all of you."

Shuichi took a step forward, his expression conflicted. "And what about us? What about our lives, our memories? If you reset the loop, we won’t even remember this. Everything we’ve been through will be erased."

"Maybe," Kokichi admitted, his voice quieter. "But it’s better than letting this game go on. Better than letting Tsumugi win."

Tsumugi, who had been silently observing the discussion, finally spoke up. "You’re all seriously considering this? Letting yourselves be executed based on some convoluted story from Kokichi? You’d throw your lives away for a liar?"

Shuichi turned to her, his eyes burning with determination. "He’s lied before, yes. But everything he’s done has been to stop this killing game. And deep down, I believe he’s telling the truth this time."

Kaito slammed his fist on the stand. "Damn it, Kokichi! I hate that I’m saying this, but... if you really think this is the only way, then I’ll trust you. But you’d better not mess this up."

Himiko wiped her tears and nodded. "If it means stopping the killing game, then... I’ll do it. For Kaede and Rantaro."

Maki hesitated, her expression unreadable. "This is insane," she muttered. But after a long pause, she stepped forward. "Fine. I’ll go along with it. But if you’re lying, Kokichi, I’ll make sure you pay."

One by one, the students nodded their agreement, their fear giving way to a shared determination. Kokichi felt a pang of guilt as he looked at each of them. He had manipulated them, lied to them, and put them through hell. And now, he was asking them to trust him with their lives.

"Alright," Monokuma chimed in, his tone mocking. "Looks like you’ve all made your choice. No votes, huh? Bold move! But you know what that means—game over for all of you!"

The screens around the courtroom lit up, displaying the words "NO VOTE DETECTED. ALL STUDENTS TO BE EXECUTED."

Kokichi closed his eyes as the ground began to rumble, the execution mechanism coming to life. This wasn’t the end—it was just another beginning. He would make things right. No matter how many loops it took.

The courtroom trembled violently, the lights flickering ominously as Monokuma giggled with malicious glee. "Ooooh, you kids really went for it this time! No votes, no winners... just losers! Time for the grand finale! Lights, camera, execution!"

Before anyone could react, the floor beneath them opened with a deafening clang, and all of the remaining students plummeted into darkness. Kokichi's stomach lurched as he fell, his breath catching in his throat.

They landed—not hard, but with an unsettling softness—in what seemed to be an enormous bounce house. Bright, garish colors surrounded them, with walls that warped and pulsed as though alive. The air smelled of artificial strawberries and burnt rubber.

"What the hell is this?" Maki growled, her voice tense with fury.

Monokuma’s voice boomed from above, echoing chaotically in the strange space. "Welcome to the Monokuma Carnival of Catastrophe! A little fun before your tragic end—what’s life without a few giggles, huh?"

The walls of the bounce house suddenly rippled, and the students were flung in all directions. Kokichi tumbled through the air, narrowly avoiding a spinning Monokuma-shaped wrecking ball that crashed into the bouncy floor, sending shockwaves that tossed everyone around like rag dolls.

"Stay together!" Shuichi shouted, though his voice was lost in the cacophony.

Suddenly, oversized carnival games emerged from the walls: giant mallets swung down, crushing the bounce house floor; mechanical Monokuma heads spat flaming popcorn; and a spinning wheel of spikes spun wildly in the center, sending metal shards into the air. It was chaotic, absurd, and utterly terrifying.

One by one, the traps grew more bizarre. A giant claw machine descended, scooping Himiko into its glittering pincers before it flung her into the void. A wave of sticky pink slime erupted from a pipe, consuming Kaito and Maki in seconds. Kokichi scrambled, his heart pounding, as the space seemed to collapse inward, folding into itself like an accordion.

Finally, Kokichi found himself alone, suspended in the air by some invisible force. Below him, the other students were gone, the bounce house now a swirling vortex of color and noise. Monokuma appeared in front of him, floating lazily with an oversized lollipop.

"You really thought you could outsmart me, huh, Kokichi? You’re clever, I’ll give you that. But there’s no escaping the ultimate punishment!"

Kokichi grinned weakly, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of fear. "Guess I wasn’t clever enough, huh? Oh well, at least I’m going out with style."

Monokuma’s eye gleamed, and the vortex beneath Kokichi surged upward, consuming him in a kaleidoscope of colors and distorted laughter.

The sensation of being torn apart and put back together again was quick, almost painless. And then—nothing.

Kokichi’s eyes shot open, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He was back. The classroom was pristine, untouched by chaos or despair. The faint scent of chalk filled the air. Sitting across from him was Kiibou, looking just as confused and awkward as he had in the first loop.

"Ah, you’re awake," Kiibou said politely, tilting his head. "I was beginning to think you might never wake up."

Kokichi stared at him for a long moment, his mind reeling. The weight of the last loop hit him like a freight train. He’d failed again. Kaede and Rantaro were still dead in the future he’d tried to change. But this time, he wouldn’t let it happen.

Not again.

He leaned back in his chair, forcing a sly smile onto his face. "Well, looks like I’m stuck with you, robot boy. Let’s make the best of it, shall we?"

Kokichi shot up from his desk the moment the realization hit him. He barely acknowledged Kiibou's polite attempt to continue their conversation before rushing out of the classroom. His heart pounded in his chest, the weight of his plan suffocating him as he sprinted down the halls.

He didn’t have time to explain himself—not to anyone. He knew what had to be done, no matter how much it tore at his very being.

The warehouse was dimly lit, the scent of dust and faint traces of gunpowder from leftover fireworks hanging in the air. Kokichi’s eyes darted frantically across the shelves and crates, searching. Finally, his gaze locked onto the familiar shape of a shot put ball nestled among some sports equipment. He grabbed it without hesitation, the cold, heavy metal resting in his hands like a grim promise.

As he turned to leave, his steps faltered for a brief moment. His mind screamed at him to stop. Killing someone went against everything he believed in, everything he’d lived by. But this wasn’t just a game anymore—it was a cycle, an endless nightmare. He’d tried every other path, played every angle, and all it had led to was more suffering, more death.

If he didn’t act now, if he didn’t stop her, they’d all end up pawns again. And Kaede… Rantaro… all of it would have been for nothing.

The weight of his resolve steadied him. His fingers tightened around the shot put ball as he hurried out of the warehouse, the hallways blurring around him. Kokichi barely registered the voices of his classmates in the dining hall as he passed by, ignoring their confused greetings. He couldn’t let himself be distracted now.

Kokichi’s footsteps echoed in the halls as he carried the shot put ball in his trembling hands. Every step felt heavier, his breaths quick and shallow. He couldn’t stop now—couldn’t afford to let doubt creep in. This was the only way.

He approached the library, the very place where Kaede had been framed. The memory of her hopeful, determined smile flashed in his mind, and his grip on the ball tightened. He pushed open the door, and there she was.

Tsumugi was sitting at a table near the back of the room, flipping idly through a book. Her demeanor was calm, her focus entirely on the pages. Kokichi hesitated in the doorway, his heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else.

She looked so normal. So unassuming.

But Kokichi knew better.

He stepped inside, his movements silent, careful. Tsumugi didn’t look up. She didn’t acknowledge his presence, though Kokichi knew she must have noticed him. She always noticed everything. Her lack of reaction only made his anger boil.

This is it, he thought. No more games. No more suffering. It ends here.

He moved closer, the shot put ball cold and heavy in his hand. His knuckles whitened as he gripped it tighter, his mind racing with everything he had to sacrifice to make it to this point. Every choice, every broken promise, every lie—all of it led here.

Tsumugi’s voice broke the silence, calm and unbothered. “Is there something you need?”

Kokichi froze for a fraction of a second. Her tone was light, innocent, like she had nothing to hide.

But he knew better.

He didn’t answer. His lips pressed into a thin line as he raised the shot put ball. Tsumugi finally glanced up, her eyes narrowing slightly, calculating. But there wasn’t enough time for her to piece together what was happening.

Kokichi hurled the shot put ball with all the strength he could muster.

The sound was sickening—a dull, wet thud as the ball struck her head. Tsumugi’s body crumpled to the ground instantly, the book slipping from her hands as blood began to pool beneath her.

Kokichi stood there, frozen. The shot put ball rolled a few inches away from her lifeless body, streaked with red.

His chest heaved, and his vision blurred as he stared at the horrifying scene before him.

He had done it. He’d broken his own code, crossed the line he swore he never would.

But the mastermind was dead.

The killing game was over.

Wasn’t it?

His knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor, his hands shaking uncontrollably. The weight of his actions crashed over him, drowning him in guilt and despair. Yet, beneath it all, there was a flicker of hope—a fragile, fleeting hope that this was the end of the nightmare.

Or so he desperately wanted to believe.

Kokichi sat on the floor of the library, still staring at Tsumugi’s lifeless body, his mind a storm of guilt, regret, and grim resolve. The silence was shattered by a familiar, high-pitched laugh.

“Puhuhuhu! Well, well, well! What do we have here?”

Kokichi’s head snapped up to see Monokuma waddling into the room, his red eye gleaming with twisted delight.

“I gotta say, I didn’t see this coming!” Monokuma chuckled. “You went ahead and killed the mastermind, huh? That’s some serious initiative!”

Kokichi glared at him, his hands still trembling. “...Yeah, I did. So what now? Are we free?”

Monokuma tilted his head, tapping his chin dramatically. “Hmm, I could just let you all go, but where’s the fun in that? First, I need to address the elephant in the room: how did you even know it was her? And why’d you kill her? Puhuhuhu, color me curious!”

Kokichi didn’t respond, his jaw tightening.

Monokuma didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, no matter! It’s time to let everyone in on this little murder mystery of yours. Let’s see how your ‘friends’ feel about your heroic little deed, shall we?”

Before Kokichi could protest, Monokuma pressed a button on a remote, and the screen in the library lit up.

“Gather up, everyone! This is a special broadcast you won’t wanna miss!” Monokuma’s voice rang out across the school.

As the remaining students crowded into the library, Kaede stepped forward, her expression a mix of confusion and determination. She glanced at the lifeless body on the floor, her breath catching.

“What the hell is going on?” Kaede demanded, turning to Monokuma.

“Ohhh, this is just delicious!” Monokuma cackled, rubbing his paws together. “I’ve been waiting for this moment! Allow me to introduce someone who’s been keeping a little secret from you all!”

The bear dramatically waved his paw at Kokichi, who stood frozen near Tsumugi’s body, the blood-soaked shot put ball still lying on the ground beside him.

“This here is Kokichi Ouma!” Monokuma announced gleefully. “Your very own Ultimate Supreme Leader. And guess what? He just KILLED your sweet classmate, Tsumugi Shirogane!”

Gasps and murmurs erupted from the group. Kaede stepped forward, her eyes narrowing at Kokichi.

“Killed her? Why would he do that?”

Monokuma shrugged in mock confusion. “Oh, who knows? Maybe he thought it’d be fun! Maybe he just couldn’t resist the thrill of a murder. Puhuhuhu! You’ll have to ask him yourself!”

Kokichi opened his mouth to speak, but Monokuma cut him off.

“Not so fast, short stuff! Let’s give them the full picture, shall we?”

The screen flickered on, showing a playback of Kokichi in the warehouse, grabbing the shot put ball, and sneaking into the library. The footage cut to him throwing the ball with deadly precision, striking Tsumugi down.

The students recoiled at the graphic display.

Kaede’s voice was sharp and cold. “Kokichi. Is this true? Did you really…?”

Kokichi’s gaze flicked to her, his throat dry. “I… it’s not what you think!”

“What else could it be?” Maki demanded, stepping forward with a glare that could cut steel. “You killed her. That much is clear.”

“B-But why?” Shuichi stammered, his eyes darting between Kokichi and Monokuma.

Monokuma snickered. “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Why would our dear little Supreme Leader go and off poor Tsumugi? Well, I’m afraid that’s a secret he’ll have to share himself!”

The group turned their attention back to Kokichi, their expressions a mix of confusion, anger, and fear.

“I…” Kokichi began, his voice trembling before he forced his usual bravado into it. “I did what I had to do! That’s all you need to know!”

“That’s not good enough!” Kaede snapped. “You killed someone! You need to explain yourself!”

Monokuma chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry about that! I’ll explain something even juicier!”

The bear’s tone shifted, becoming low and menacing. “You see, Tsumugi wasn’t just any ordinary classmate. She was your mastermind! The one pulling all the strings!”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

“What?” Shuichi whispered, his eyes wide.

“That’s right!” Monokuma said. “And thanks to Kokichi here, the killing game is officially over! You’re all free to leave and go back to your… well, your fictional lives.”

“Fictional?” Maki’s voice was laced with skepticism.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes!” Monokuma sang, twirling around. “You’re all just characters in the world’s greatest reality show: Danganronpa! A global sensation! And this—this was the 53rd season! You all volunteered to have your memories wiped and play your parts in the most thrilling killing game ever broadcast!”

The room erupted into chaos.

“Lies!” Kaito shouted. “That’s gotta be a lie!”

“I’m afraid not,” Monokuma said, his tone mockingly somber. “It’s all true. Every memory you thought you had? Fake. Every bond you thought you formed? Manufactured. It’s all for the audience’s entertainment!”

Kaede stepped forward, her hands trembling. “No… this can’t be real. It can’t be…”

Monokuma grinned. “Oh, it’s real, alright! And now that the mastermind’s dead, the show’s over! Time to roll the credits and let you all go!”

The students stood in stunned silence, their world shattered.

Kokichi looked at the group, his chest tightening as he took in their horrified faces. They didn’t understand. They couldn’t understand. And now, they would never forgive him.

As the silence lingered in the library, Monokuma’s sinister laughter cut through the air.

“Oh, you all look so distraught! Don’t worry, though. Your troubles are almost over. And by almost, I mean… right now!”

Before anyone could react, vents in the walls hissed as a strange, colorless gas flooded the room.

“Wait, what’s happening?!” Shuichi yelled, his voice muffled as he staggered backward.

Kaede stumbled, her eyes fluttering. “No… not like this…”

Kokichi’s vision blurred as he tried to cover his mouth with his sleeve, but it was too late. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, darkness enveloping him.

When Kokichi woke up, the world around him was eerily quiet. He blinked against the sunlight streaming through a window, taking in the unfamiliar room. It was… cozy. Warm. Too normal.

He sat up abruptly, realizing he was in a neatly made bed covered with a quilt he’d never seen before. The walls were painted a soft beige, and the room was decorated with family photos.

“What the hell…?” Kokichi muttered, rubbing his temples. His head throbbed, and his memories felt like static, a haze of confusion and disbelief.

The door creaked open, and two adults entered—a man and a woman, both with stern expressions. Kokichi froze as they approached, their faces familiar but alien at the same time.

“Kokichi,” the woman said, her tone sharp. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“I…” Kokichi’s voice faltered. “Who are you? Where am I?”

The man sighed heavily, crossing his arms. “Don’t play dumb. We’re your parents, and you’re home.”

“Parents?” Kokichi repeated, his mind reeling. His fabricated memories flooded back—the orphanages, the loneliness, the cunning lies he’d crafted to survive. Parents weren’t part of the narrative he remembered.

The woman scoffed. “Don’t tell me you forgot again. You begged us to let you join Danganronpa! You said it would be the greatest experience of your life! And now look at what you’ve done. You ruined the 53rd season!”

“Ruined?” Kokichi echoed, his voice trembling.

The man shook his head in disappointment. “You killed the mastermind, ended the game early, and now the whole show’s ratings have tanked. The fans are furious.”

“The fans?” Kokichi whispered, his stomach twisting. He stood up, his legs shaky. “Wait… no. This doesn’t make sense. This isn’t real. It can’t be real!”

“Oh, it’s real, alright,” the woman said coldly. “You’ve disappointed everyone, Kokichi. Including us.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He staggered back, his gaze darting around the room, searching for something—anything—that could explain what was happening. His eyes landed on a family photo on the wall.

In the picture, he stood between the two adults, smiling brightly, wearing an outfit he didn’t recognize. His heart sank as he realized there was no trace of the person he thought he was.

“No…” Kokichi muttered, clutching his head. “No, no, no! This isn’t real! This isn’t me!”

But the adults just stared at him, their disappointment etched into their faces.

“You made your choice,” the man said. “And now, you have to live with it.”

Kokichi stumbled back onto the bed, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The walls of the room seemed to close in around him, suffocating him with the weight of the truth—or whatever this twisted reality was.

For the first time in his life—or his many lives—Kokichi Ouma felt truly powerless.