What would it be like in a world where the killing game went differently?
What would it be like if different people lived and different people died?
What would it be like...if this story...had an entirely different hero.
A rewrite of the game Super...
The tension in the trial room had grown so thick it was suffocating. Peko stood at the center, her stoic demeanor fractured, revealing hints of vulnerability beneath the surface.
As the others processed the shocking revelations, Gundham was the first to break the silence.
"Peko Pekoyama," the Breeder began, his voice surprisingly calm yet intense. "You've referred to yourself as a 'tool' multiple times now. Explain what you mean by that."
Peko hesitated, gripping the handle of her bamboo sword tightly as if it were the only thing grounding her. Before she could respond, Nagito stepped forward, a grim smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"That's an interesting way to refer to yourself, but I think I understand," he said, his tone laced with morbid curiosity. "If you're a tool, that means there had to be someone else using you, doesn't it?"
Mahiru stiffened, the realization hitting her like a freight train.
[WHO...?]
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IT COULD ONLY HAVE BEEN YOU!
You mean Fuyuhiko, right?" she asked. "I mean...it'd have to be..."
All eyes turned to Peko. She bowed her head, a faint tremor in her hands as she confirmed their suspicions.
"Yes. You're correct."
"Wait, I'm still confused..." Hajime said softly, his brows furrowed in concern. "So, you're Fuyuhiko's 'tool?' What does that even mean?"
"The truth is, Fuyuhiko and I, unlike the rest of you, actually knew each other long before any of us first met on this island," Peko said, taking a shaky breath. Her voice was steady despite the turmoil in her expression. "He is...WAS...my Young Master."
"Young...Master...?" Nekomaru repeated slowly.
"Wait, so..." Kazuichi's eyes widened. "Are you saying that you're his servant or something?"
