The 156th Killing Game.
When the first murder had occurred, back when Naegi was blissfully unaware of the time loop and investigating Maizono’s death, he been feeling a tingling anticipation and anxiety all the way up until the class trial. Just knowing that someone had murdered one of his friends in cold blood, and that he had to find out who did it was enough to fill the air with a painfully thick sense of foreboding. The atmosphere was almost too tense, as if a second murder might happen at any minute. The fragile blanket of trust and calm that had been wrapped around them was shattered in an instant, leaving nothing but the cold sense of mystery and danger.
It had been a long time since then, and Naegi thought that he would never feel something like that again. But now, as he sat on Maizono’s bed and stared at the ticking clock on her wall, the exact same feeling of anxiety was almost overwhelming him. For the first time in a while, he felt alive . Goosebumps rippled through his arms as his back was set in an unnaturally straight posture. However, this time he wasn’t under the crushing pressure of investigation a murder - he was keeping himself in suspense by the knowledge of what he was planning to do.
What happens if someone wins this game?
The almost alien voice that had whispered in his head was not quite his. He almost felt like the thought was planted there, like he was being brainwashed or something. Of course, he knew that he was doing this of his own free will. That the single burning thought that shot across his mind really was his, and that if he were to do this then Junko really would have won. This was something that she wanted him to do.
Naegi flinches as the minute hand on the clock moves forward another inch.
Why? Why would I do something like this? Despite his grim determination to carry out his plan, countless numbers of small thoughts plagued his mind, slowly poking holes of doubt through his brain. These thoughts were cold, and radiated a deeply sickening sense of horrified shock. Were all of those promises for nothing? Not only did you give up after less than five hundred tries, but now you’re planning to...
“Kill,” Naegi mutters under his breath, though he was completely unaware of it.
… just to satisfy your boredom, to satisfy your curiosity?
Naegi didn’t know if he had gone through this killing game less than five hundred times or not. He had stopped counting long, long ago, so for all he knew, this could have been his thousandth loop. If he had to guess, then he would have to say that this was his four hundredth loop, though he could never be sure.
Another minute passes. Naegi flinches again, but less severely this time.
The only noise in Maizono’s room was the unsteady pattern of his soft breathing, and the robotic ticks of the clock. If there was only silence in the air, then Naegi would have probably not been able to wait. The luckster deeply and truly believed that it would have swallowed him whole. Though the lack of silence was gratifying, the methodical tick noises from the clock that seemed to drum into his soul like the vibrating string of a pulled guitar was almost as bad. When Naegi knew that every tick that passed signaled another second towards death, silence was almost preferable.
Even when nerves and anxiety pumped through every single inch of Naegi’s body, he still managed to look calm, save for the regular winces that came with the passing of each minute. The mask that he had worn for so long was second nature to him, and so his expression was serene and distant. If someone looked at him, they would have guessed that he would be thinking about a riddle or old memories, not about how he was going to murder one of his closest friends.
Naegi counts forty seconds passing. In about sixteen seconds, he would leave his room, having just stabbed Maizono. Then, Naegi would find out what lay in the graduation party. Would Junko even come out to see him? Would Monokuma just give him the remote to the outside world and leave? Would it all end up being a trap, and Naegi would end up executed with the rest of his classmates?
No consequences. Doesn’t matter. Naegi repeats this thought in his head, like some sort of chant. He needed to remember that nothing that happened today was of any consequence. He needed to remember that everything could be undone, that this didn’t matter.
No consequences. Doesn’t matter.
No consequences. Doesn’t matter.
No consequences. Doesn’t matter.
Of course, it was the night after Monokuma had shown off his motive videos. Naegi had come, he had faked his reactions, he had done everything perfectly. And just a little while ago, right on schedule, Maizono had come to rope him into her plans. He went along with it perfectly.
In a robotic fashion, Naegi stands up from his bed and makes a single file line towards his door. While his plan was simple, it was something that no one could have pulled off unless they knew what was going to happen. He knew that after Kuwata stabs Maizono, he would clean the room with a lint roller before leaving to dispose of his bloodied shirt. When Kuwata leaves the room, Naegi would quickly slip into the shower room and remove the knife before stabbing her again, effectively finishing her off.
Of course, Naegi didn’t know whether or not Maizono would still be alive by then, but he was betting on the fact that Maizono would just be unconscious while she bled out.
Naegi slowly and quietly opens the door. Somewhere, far off in the distance, the quickly fading echoes of Kuwata’s footsteps could be heard. Naegi quickly moves to his room. The door was left open, and was practically shouting invitations to him, invitations to kill. Naegi wastes a precious second of Maizono’s life to close his eyes and tilts his head up to the ceiling, heart jackhammering in his chest. The last time he had felt such raw excitement had been when he first stepped into the outside world. He had thought that Kirigiri’s plan worked, and that he was finally free from the grasp of Junko and her
“Stupid damn time machine.” Naegi says out loud in a thick voice that he hardly recognized as his own.
Obviously, he was still trapped. Nothing he could do now, really. He had accepted that.
That’s why he was doing this.
Naegi speed-walks into his room and immediately turns to the open restroom. Already, the nauseating warm smell of blood clouded his bedroom. In spite of himself, Naegi feels a slight tick of sorrow as he looks down at Maizono’s lifeless body.
Gritting his teeth, Naegi walks into his restroom and kneels down to Maizono, taking care not to stain his jeans on one of the growing puddles of blood. When he reached out his hands to Maizono’s neck, he noticed that his arms were trembling. He tries to take a deep breath to calm his nerves, but just ended up getting a big waft of the metallic scent of Maizono’s blood.
Shaking his head once, Naegi puts two fingers onto Maizono’s neck. After a few seconds, he puts a hand over Maizono’s mouth and nose. Finally, he presses an open palm on Maizono’s chest.
“She’s dead already.” Naegi mutters, standing back up. He was too late. Kuwata would remain Maizono’s killer. Even though Naegi’s plan failed, he still felt a slight sense of relief. He didn’t kill anyone - for now, he was an innocent man. Junko had not won yet.
… cut wide open and there was a torrent of blood spilling out. Blood, blood, blood, blood. Blood everywhere. On his hands, on his clothes, on his shoes, on the floor. Red almost completely filled his vision. Junko's usually animated face was completely still. Her eyes were greyed out and had as much life in them as rocks. In complete contrast to her-
Naegi slaps himself in the face. Hard. As the sharp stinging spreads through the entirety of the right side of his face, Naegi dazedly wonders to himself if this had changed his goal. Maybe now that he failed, he could give up on trying to win the killing game. The answer came to him quickly. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew that he was going to try again sooner or later. Like he had repeated to himself, nothing here mattered. His failure didn’t matter.
The noise of his slap echoes throughout his room and the hallway. What if Kuwata had heard him?
I don’t care .
But he did care. Naegi knew he cared, and he despised himself for it. As swiftly as possible, Naegi leaves his bathroom and Maizono’s corpse and goes back to Maizono’s room, softly closing the door behind him.
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…
Naegi harshly collapses onto Maizono’s bed and screams into her pillow, almost suffocating in her scent. Ever since Kirigiri’s plan had failed, Naegi had been aware of only three feelings for his classmates: pity, jealousy, and a weak, crumbling sort of friendship. He pitied them because they would never see the outside world, that they were doomed to die over and over again along with Naegi. He was jealous of them because they didn’t have to remember. They didn’t remember the suffering.
The fading sense of bond and trust he had felt for his friends had suddenly and rashly solidified inside of Naegi’s heart and seemed to be ripping him to shreds. He was about to carry out a murder. Just to satisfy his morbid curiosity of what if , he was planning to kill Maizono and by extension, kill the rest of his classmates.
Naegi moans pathetically and throws Maizono’s pillow to the door. It makes a small thumping noise as it fell lifelessly onto the ground. Naegi looks down at his hands, and saw that they were shaking. Two warm tears fall onto his open palms and spills onto Maizono’s bed.
“M-Maizono.” Naegi says out loud. His voice seemed loud enough to shatter his eardrums in the small and quiet room. Vaguely, he wonders if anyone else heard him. He wonders if his voice was so loud that it penetrated the sound-proofed walls. “Maizono is dead. Maizono is dead. But she’s not. Not really.”
Naegi’s mind was a messily shaken cocktail of fear, sorrow, and disgust. Suddenly, everything seemed too big, too threatening. It was as if someone had grabbed the dials that controlled his emotions and smashed them into pieces with a sledgehammer. He thought he was long past mourning his murdered classmates. It was hard to feel bad for someone after you’ve seen them get killed countless times over, and see them get brought back every time.
Yet here he was, crying over Maizono’s death.
Am I? Or am I crying for myself?
Suddenly, his head started to hurt. It felt almost exactly like the headache that he keeps getting after he gets sent back in time. Naegi almost expected to look down and see himself sitting in a desk. His heart and head were pounding so hard that he could barely hear his own shaky breathing.
Tiredly, Naegi falls backwards onto the bed and pulls the covers over his entire body. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to forget that he had ever thought about killing. But the worst part was that he knew it wasn’t possible. For all he knew, he was going to be in this time loop for the rest of eternity. Sooner or later, he would really snap. Hell, he had already taken pleasure in fighting Ikusaba and
… - eone's life. Not only that, but he had mutilated his victim with a knife, slitting her throat open wide. And the worst part was that beneath the crawling sense of nausea and disbelief, there was one undeniable emotion.
It was satisfaction.
It was satisfaction, and it was th
“Stop, please.” Naegi begs, begs to the thoughts haunting his head. Any more of this and he thought that his brain would surely explode. Then, he would be sent back in time again and have to see Maizono alive and well. “Okay, I killed. I killed Junko because I was mad at her. I was mad because I didn’t want to admit that she won. So please. Leave me alone.”
But no, That unwelcome voice whispers in his mind again. The voice was Naegi’s own, but it was unwelcome all the same. You didn’t kill anyone. Maizono was killed by Kuwata before you could get to her. Junko is alive and running the Killing Game. No court in the country could charge you for a murder that never happened. You haven’t killed anyone, isn’t that right?
“STOP!” Naegi yells out, headache flaring brightly. “ENOUGH!”
…
The luckster rolls over so that he was facing the ceiling. The rapid fire blasts of pain that were going through his head had lightened a bit, and Naegi found himself able to breathe again.
He falls asleep in two minutes.
----------------------------------------
“Hey guys! What’s good?” Monokuma pops out of nowhere and jumps on the gym floor. “Since the first murder happened, I would like to further explain how the class trial would work!”
The rest of the day had gone on like it normally had, except that Naegi didn’t faint when he discovered Maizono’s body. All he felt was a remnant of the bubbling sickness that had nearly overtaken him last night. He was utterly lost and confused as to what he should do, or what he could do.
“So, a certain amount of time after a murcer has taken place, a class trial will begin! Everyone will gather together, including the blackened who committed the murder. They, and the innocent students will all engage in one big debate showdown!”
I guess I could try to find the time machine again. Naegi thinks to himself, staring off into space as Monokuma rambles on in the background. But I’ve already searched through the whole school a bunch of times.
He had already looked everywhere that may contain a time machine. In fact, he had even resorted to blowing up the air purifier during one particularly desperate loop where he thought that it really might have been a time machine in disguise (Monokuma had once joked about it).
“Okay, let me just add the rule I just described to your handbook.” Monokuma says joyfully, taking a deeply exaggerated bow. “Be especially careful to keep it in mind!”
“W-Wait, hold on a second!” Ikusaba objects harshly, pointing down at Monokuma. “You’re freaking insane, you know that?”
Naegi suddenly jumps with a jolt. He had forgotten all about Ikusaba. He had been so preoccupied about what he was going to do with himself that Ikusaba’s scheduled execution had flown completely over his head.
Do I save her? Should I save her?
“Hmmmm?” Monokuma tilts his head questioningly at Ikusaba.
“A class trial? What the hell is th-”
“Junko, I…” Naegi raises a finger up in the air hesitantly. The words had flown out of his mouth before he even knew what he was going to say. “Erm…”
“What?” Ikusaba stares at the luckster strangely.
“N-Nothing.” Naegi shakes his head and lowers his hand. Inside him, thousands of conflicting thoughts and emotions were storming. Every single instinct told him to warn Ikusaba, that it wouldn’t be much trouble. But his mind screamed that none of it mattered anyway, and that Ikusaba was just a threat to him and just let her die its fine LET HER DIE. “Sorry.”
“Well before Naegi over there so rudely interrupted… What were you saying?” Monokuma asks.
Ikusaba jumps, startled. Right, the script.
“A-Anyway, why would I want to risk my life trying to find a murderer?!”
“Huuuuuh?” Monokuma puts a paw on his mouth, gasping dramatically. “You know, only the worst punishments await those who dare utter such blasphemy!”
“Punishment?” Ikusaba asks.
Meanwhile, nausea had started to creep up on Naegi. Flashing images of Ikusaba’s corpse, riddled with holes and covered in blood, were going through his mind.
“I might, I dunno. Throw you into a deep dark prison or something?”
“Shut the hell up!” Ikusaba snaps. “Say whatever you want, I’m not participating in this!”
“Oooh, such evil standing before me!” Monokuma exclaims as sharp claws shoot out from Monokuma’s paws. “But I won't give in. It’s my style to stick it out until the very end! If you want to rebel, you’ll have to get through me first!”
With that, Monokuma waddles pathetically towards Ikusaba, stubby arms flailing about.
*Smash*
“Ugh!” Monokuma’s limbs fly around aimlessly at Ikusaba traps the bear beneath her boot.
“Ha! Enjoying yourself now?” Ikusaba asks smugly.
“Are you?”
“Huh?”
“Violence against the headmaster is against school regulations! I invoke a mighty summon spell..” Monokuma says in an ominous voice, red eye glowing evilly.
Naegi felt as if he were going to vomit at any second.
“To me, Godly Spear of Gungnir!”
At the very last second, Naegi bounds forward at a breakneck speed and shoves Ikusaba as hard as he could. But he was a little late, and as Ikusaba flew backwards, one of the spears that had shot up from the floor pierced through her left hand, causing a fountain of blood to spurt out. The spear had struck in the web of flesh between her thumb and pointer finger, leaving behind a massive hole.
“Ugh!” Ikusaba grunts as she harshly strikes the floor. She sits up and looks at her hand unbelievably as waves of agony radiate from it. It felt like every single nerve on her body was on fire.
“Aw man, only a glancing blow!” Monokuma gets up from the floor, brushing himself off.
Panting, Naegi stumbles over to Ikusaba. He had expected the overwhelming nausea to dissipate when he saved Ikusaba, but it had doubled instead. Naegi could barely even walk straight. “Are… you okay?”
“J-Junko!” Fujisaki gasps.
“Ahhhhhhhh! Ms. Enoshima’s bleeding!” Yamada shrieks.
Monokuma giggles and starts walking menacingly over to Ikusaba, extending his claws. “Puhuhuhuhu! Perhaps I should finish her off!”
“Oi! If you wanna kill anyone else, you gotta get through me first!” Suddenly, Owada jumps in front of Monokuma and raises his fists. “I’ve had just about enough of your fuckin bullshit! This proves that you killed that idol chick, so I won’t hold back!”
While the raw, burning pain that was filling her hand was intense, Ikusaba’s mind was on something else - Junko had just tried to kill her. It was only thanks to Naegi that he had lived. She glances over to him - his face was incredibly pale, and beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead. You would have thought he was the one who had the near death experience, not her.
“Gyahahahahaha! I dunno what’s going on here, but things are getting pretty lively!” A maniacal voice echoes throughout the cafeteria. Evidently, Genocider Shou had come out.
“F-Fukawa? Are you feeling okay?” Asahina asks worriedly.
“Oh dang! Look at Ms. Milk Jugs over here! What did they feed you to make those pillows so juicy?”
“M-Milk jugs?”
Amidst the wave of confusion, Ikusaba grabs onto Naegi’s arm with her good hand and drags him out into the hallway. Naegi’s eyes were completely clouded over, and he barely even noticed Ikusaba dragging him. An almost crushing sense of depression had settled on him and doubled with the nausea, he was nearly at the point of fainting.
Why am I feeling this now? I thought I was done with this. I just want to stop trying. I can’t do anything meaningful anymore, so why am I trying? I don’t want to try anymore. I just want to rest.
“Naegi. How did you know?”
…
Frowning, Ikusaba places her good hand onto Naegi’s shoulder and gives it a firm shake. “Come on, Naegi. Please tell me. How did you know to push me?”
“I…” Somehow, Naegi gets even paler. He turns away from Ikusaba and starts dry heaving, choked gasps coming out in pitiful bursts. After a few seconds, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand despite the fact that his mouth was completely dry. “I’m sorry.... No I’m not. I don’t know anymore.”
Ikusaba’s frown morphs into an expression of concern. Was Maizono’s murder affecting him this much? Or did something else happen that was making him like this? “Naegi. Are you feeling okay?” As Ikusaba asks this, she immediately does a mental facepalm - of course Naegi wasn’t feeling okay. He looked like a damned zombie.
“I-Ikusaba. Just be careful a-about Junko, kay? A-Also, put a band-aid on or something.” Naegi clears his throat and tries to stand up straight. With a small wave, he begins to stagger towards the dorm rooms. He looked and walked like a drunkard. “See you.”
Ikusaba’s face turns almost as pale as Naegi’s. She tries to call out to Naegi, but quickly found that her jaw was locked tight. Not only did Naegi know enough about Junko’s plan to save her, but he also saw through her disguise?
“Naegi…” Ikusaba whispers to herself. “What in the world happened to you?”