A Danganronpa fic.
First published September 2018.
Ensemble, 26,099 words.
Harukawa had never seen such a monstrous beetle before.
With all six legs on the ground, it wasn’t so bad – almost doglike – but when it reared up, pincers waving, Harukawa backed away quickly. She began on instinct to look for some kind of weapon, and settled for a fallen tree branch.
‘Harukawa-san, don’t!’
Gonta, who was clearly crazy, was moving toward the beetle. Or between her and the beetle? She lowered the branch, feeling curiously that his intention was to protect it and not her.
‘We’re on its territory,’ Gonta said. ‘If we back up, beetle leave us alone. That’s right, isn’t it, beetle?’
The beetle snapped out with its pincers; Gonta was out of reach, but it was obviously feeling threatened. How could he speak to it like a pet?
From the bushes, Harukawa saw movement.
‘Beetles aren’t social animals, are they?’
‘Not usually,’ Gonta said.
‘I think there’s more of them.’
Another three or four – too many – emerged from the bushes. They were moving maliciously, to Harukawa’s eyes.
She began to back up again.
The first beetle snapped, closer to Gonta this time, so that he had to dodge back.
‘Gonta was wrong,’ he said. ‘We better run.’
Harukawa was more than happy to oblige.
The rest of the group had taken a break after Momota came over all dizzy. By the time Harukawa got back to them, she was breathing hard, but they’d left the beetles behind.
‘What’s wrong?’ Komaru asked, rising to her feet.
‘Beetles,’ Harukawa said. It sounded innocuous when she said it, but several of the group went pale.
‘We disturb beetle family,’ Gonta said.
‘They’re not still coming?’ Momota said.
‘It doesn’t seem like it,’ she said. ‘But I think we should take a different route.’
Shingetsu pulled out his map, looking troubled. While they assumed that rivers and mountains were in roughly the same place, it was still hard to navigate anywhere. None of them knew how much time had passed since the asteroid strike, or how the world might have changed. But if they could get to the coast and head north, they should meet the others at some point.
It was such a ridiculous plan. There were so many variables they couldn’t predict ... and who could even say that the other group had woken at the same time? Yet Harukawa had come along anyway, because Momota had thought it was a good idea. Momota could hardly even keep up.
And now they had to detour, because a family of beetles happened to be the size of dogs. They should have just stayed behind.
Shingetsu made a tucking noise with his teeth, and folded the map away. ‘May as well not bother,’ he said.
‘But we’ll need it to get back, right?’ Komaru said.
Shingetsu rubbed at his temple. ‘I’ll keep taking the bearings, but ...’
‘It’s only around beetle territory,’ Gonta said.
‘How many beetles are there?’ Momota asked. He was pale – from fear or sickness Harukawa couldn’t tell – but he pushed himself to his feet.
‘Not how many,’ Shingetsu said, ‘how big.’
‘How big?’
‘Shingetsu, you’ve seen them before?’ Harukawa asked.
He nodded.
‘It’s better not to disturb them,’ Komaru said. ‘We learned that early on.’
‘Wow,’ Momota said. ‘Giant bugs. I guess your talent’s really going to come in handy, huh, Gonta?’
‘You think so? Gonta glad!’
They’d expected to hit the river tonight, but detouring around the beetle territory meant it took longer than they’d thought. Harukawa noticed Momota lagging again; his cough, which had never gotten any better, was getting worse. He kept trying to hide it.
And then he fell.
Harukawa thought at first he’d tripped – it was edging into twilight – but he didn’t get up again.
‘Are you alright?’
Everyone but Harukawa was asking that; she just stared at Momota, wordless. He pushed himself into a sitting position.
‘I guess I can’t hide it anymore, huh?’ He made it sound like a joke, but she didn’t want to hear it.
‘Momota-kun alright? Not hurt?’
Momota waved a hand, dismissing Gonta’s concerns. ‘I’m not hurt,’ he said. ‘Just tired. I guess I can’t walk any further. Sorry, guys.’
Harukawa went cold. ‘You should have said you were still sick.’
‘And make you worry?’ Momota said. ‘Nah.’
‘It’s serious, then?’ Fukawa asked. She kept back, as if he might be contagious.
‘We don’t have to keep going,’ Komaru said. ‘We’ve got enough water to last us even if we don’t get to the river tonight.’
‘I don’t wanna make trouble,’ Momota said, but he looked relieved.
‘What about tomorrow?’ Harukawa asked. The words came out more urgently then she’d meant them. ‘It’s only going to get worse, isn’t it? Tell the truth.’
‘Sorry, Harumaki. I think ... you’re probably right. I’m not going to make it to the coast.’ Strangely, he smiled at her. ‘But we’ve sure seen some things, haven’t we? I’m glad the killing ended and we got to see the new world.’ He started coughing again, an awful sound; finally Harukawa was able to move to his side.
‘We’re only just getting started,’ she said. Usually, she would be embarrassed, getting this emotional in front of someone. But it was different, seeing Momota like this. ‘You don’t actually think that; you just need to rest.’
‘Yeah, probably.’ He pulled his face in a grimace. ‘Let’s just stay here a bit, shall we?’
Gingerly, she sat down beside him.
‘We’ll get dinner ready,’ Komaru said. ‘Momota-kun, you just rest, okay?’
‘Roger that,’ Momota said.
Harukawa wrapped her arms around her knees. She wished she could cry. She’d known how once, she was sure.
‘Don’t be sad,’ Momota said. ‘We had fun, didn’t we?’
‘Don’t say that,’ she said. His colour seemed a bit getter, and she wanted to tell him he’d be fine – people got sick all the time – but somehow, after everything that had happened, she couldn’t believe it. If it weren’t serious, he wouldn’t have tried so hard to hide it. He didn’t want to worry them.
He didn’t want to worry her.
‘What do you think it’ll be like?’ Momota said. ‘The sea.’ It was like he thought he could distract her.
‘It’s the sea,’ Harukawa said. ‘It doesn’t change.’
‘But imagine – no boats anywhere. Maybe dolphins have formed an advanced civilisation and you’ll learn to communicate with them. Man, I’d like to see that.’
‘I’m not going to be talking to dolphins.’
‘No? I bet they have a better life than us.’ He pondered it sagely. ‘They could teach us a lot, dolphins.’
‘You think dolphins don’t kill each other?’ Harukawa asked. And Momota laughed, and then the laughing turned to coughing. Long enough that it frightened her.
‘Oh, man, Harumaki,’ he said, when he’d recovered. ‘Only you’d think of dolphins killing each other.’
‘It’s not funny,’ Harukawa said. She felt somehow wistful. Like if this illness only were temporary, then one day she and Momota –
Stupid, that he’d made her think things like one day.
Harukawa didn’t sleep well, that night; every time she was about to drift off, Momota would have another coughing fit, and she’d be wide awake again, her whole body tense in sympathy.
At some point in the night, she heard him get up, stumbling toward the embers of the fire. He looked up when she joined him, but she couldn’t see whether he were any better or worse.
‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘did I wake you?’ He used a stick to poke at the embers, and she watched them spark.
‘I couldn’t sleep.’
‘Sorry,’ he said again, and lapsed into another coughing fit.
She waited for it to end. There was nothing she could offer him; only her company, and she wasn’t sure what comfort that would be. Even when people had been reassured by her presence in the past, she’d never been sure how she’d done it. She didn’t know how to offer it.
Once he’d stopped coughing, Momota stared at his hand, sitting there in the dark. She didn’t like it.
‘Hey,’ she said, and when he turned his face to hers, she hesitated. ‘When we meet the others, what do you think they’ll be like?’ It wasn’t a question that needed asking, but she didn’t want to ask if he was okay when he wasn’t. He’d lied before, after all. To spare her? Because he knew she wouldn’t have stood for him to come otherwise? She didn’t know which it was.
‘Hm,’ Momota said. ‘Well, if they were chosen to come into the future, they must be pretty special.’
‘You think that’s why we were all chosen?’ Harukawa asked. She had trouble thinking of her own talent as anything special; she’d become good at killing because she’d had to. There was nothing special about that.
‘Of course!’ Momota said. ‘It’s not just me, you know. You’re pretty remarkable too, Harumaki.’
It made her uncomfortable, being flattered. ‘We don’t need an assassin to rebuild society,’ she said.
‘You don’t know that,’ Momota said. ‘Besides, that’s not the only thing about you.’ He tilted his head back, as if he grew tired again. ‘If we have kids, y’know, then we’ll need the Ultimate Child Caregiver.’
‘That was a lie,’ Harukawa said, feeling embarrassed.
‘But you said it yourself, kids like you. It’s cos they know you’re a reliable person, I reckon. Don’t you think so?’
She didn’t know what to say to that.
He sighed. In a quieter voice, he said, ‘Man, I would’ve liked to have seen that – Harumaki with kids. It’s gotta be adorable.’
‘Shut up,’ Harukawa said, ‘do you want me to kill you?’
The words were out before she could consider them; but Momota only laughed, and she could hear his voice was worn.
‘I wanna keep living,’ Momota said. ‘But if I don’t ... you have to keep going, okay? You gotta see the new world for me.’
She wanted to protest.
‘Promise me, okay?’
‘Okay.’ Her throat was dry. ‘I promise.’
‘Good. Hey, Harumaki, you don’t mind if I lean on you for a bit?’
‘What?’
Momota didn’t offer an explanation, but he moved closer, and rested his weight against her with a sigh.
Harukawa was mortified for all of five seconds. But she could hear how rough his breathing was, and when she laid a hand on his forehead, he was feverish.
‘You’d be better to lie down,’ she said.
‘Nah,’ he said. ‘I feel like, if I went to sleep now ... I’d miss out on something good.’
She couldn’t argue against that. ‘Momota?’
He didn’t respond. But the sound of his breathing reassured her, for a while. Until even that stopped.
In the morning, they buried him. Harukawa helped dig the grave, and they found stones to leave as a marker. Harukawa took off her brooch and left it amongst them.
At some point, she’d gone numb. She couldn’t even feel angry at him for leaving her, for dying in a place like this. However carefully Shingetsu marked their maps, she might never find it again.
And even if she did, he wouldn’t be here.
Gonta cried. She was vaguely aware of his grief as something that ought to matter but didn’t. Komaru cried, and she’d hardly even known Momota. Harukawa had hardly even known Momota. Whatever past they’d had together, they’d forgotten; whatever future they might have had was gone too.
If Harukawa cried, she was still too stunned to feel it.
They buried Momota in the morning, and in the afternoon they moved on.
The first time Saihara went outside the dome was to send Shirogane away. It was a shock, to see an overcast sky again. It was drizzling, and if you looked out into the distance, the hills disappeared into grey. That was the entire landscape that stretched out in front of them: green turned to grey.
‘Are you sure you don’t just want to execute me?’ Shirogane said. She spoke in a light voice, but her eyes were hard, staring out into the mist.
‘We’re sure,’ Saihara said. He could never forgive her, of course. But it seemed important not to give her what she wanted; not to do anything that couldn’t be taken back.
He remembered Akamatsu, believing she’d killed Amami. He remembered how brave she’d been. She’d been willing to kill the mastermind to save them all. But killing Shirogane now wouldn’t save anyone. Not even Shirogane herself.
Yumeno undid her handcuffs, and Shirogane picked up the bag they’d prepared for her. There was a supply of food, a blanket – things to at least give her a chance of survival. Iruma and Oma had argued against it, but Saihara didn’t want to send her outside to die. He wanted her to regret what she’d done. To repent for it.
Shirogane shouldered the backpack and, without another word, she started to walk. Without turning or facing them or cursing them. She just walked away.
Saihara felt like he was on the edge of a cliff. But he wouldn’t call her back. He wouldn’t forgive her. He held to Akamatsu’s memory, and he watched Shirogane go.
They all watched her go.