Danganronpa: Until Proven Guilty

Prologue - 2: The Future Ultimate Students

Mamo shuffles out from behind me, a meek expression on his face, before scurrying away, his gaze never leaving the floor.
Haruka, Jin and I closely follow. As much as I want to listen to their conversation, the other people in the room grab my attention, clawing at me like a group of wild cats. Each of them have their own unique look, whether they're humongously built or just another shadow. It's like a million centrepieces fighting for the spotlight, and I'm just a clueless spectator.
Haruka's vapid conversation slips my mind, and I can't seem to distinguish her chirpy voice from Jin's rather grotesque belching.
God, that man could be so much more.
My discomfort is clearly showing, as Haruka seems to instantly catch on.
She gives me a warm smile, "You look a little lost, Kiki, you wanna go talk to someone else?"
I don't say a word, eyes drifting to my shoes.
Jin smirks, "What's the deal, babe? Aren't you supposed to be a psychologist?"
"Huh?" I croak in confusion, the words not registering in my brain as I say them, "What do you mean?"
"You should be able to read these people, right?" He says, "You can hack their brains."
"That's not really how psychology works," I say with a nervous giggle.
"Don't be shy, though," Haruka grins, "We'll be waiting for you, introductions are important."
I nod, and turn to face the pack of my classmates.
It's like looking at a wall of neon colours, my eyes don't know where to look first, or what should stick out to me. Everything blends into one.

After a while of endless searching, my eyes land on a particular girl towards the front of the group.
She's cute, petite and slim, with bright pink hair bunched up into a huge ponytail that dominates half her head. Her face is covered with makeup, eyelids painted with a sugary explosion of pink and purple. A plain, purple shirt and a particularly flouncy pink skirt adorned with bows and lace makes up her attire, complete with white cat stockings and an immense pair of white platform boots. Every inch of her is littered with bows and tiny cat hair clips.
Her demeanour is sweet and inviting, and she almost seems to be swaying from side to side in a cheerful trance. She can't be that bad.
I step towards her, and I immediately notice the wrinkling of her nose, the narrowing of her eyes, and the sour puckering of her lips. Perhaps I'd stared at her unusual appearance for too long, or I'd invaded her personal bubble with my existence, but I immediately feel the nerves start to creep up again.
"Hi," I say, desperately trying to keep my voice from cracking, "New here, I'm-"
"What?" She says, folding her arms, "What are you gawking at?" Her voice is sharp and stern, yet oddly resemblant of a tantruming five year old.
"I-I'm not gawking at anything," I say, laughing in the midst of my panic, "I just wanted to introduce myself."
"Hm," She grunts, turning up her nose, "You just want to taunt me. You want to laugh at the way I dress."
Suddenly, she leans in close, and the smell of cotton candy hits me as she grabs the collar of my shirt, "Let me tell you something, I dress way better than any of you normies and you damn well know it! You're just insecure about your own drab ass clothes, so you-"

"Ah, Amai," Another voice calls from behind the girl, whose name I presume is Amai. It's noticeably more soft and better articulated, and clearly feminine. Amai lets me go and turns around.
The voice appears to belong to a rather tall, stocky woman, whose height seems out of place considering her gentle appearance. She has long, matted blonde hair that dangles around her knees. Her face is pale and round, dotted with little freckles, and her blue eyes covered with huge round glasses that don't quite rest perfectly on her nose. She wears a pale yellow shirt, and a lilac suspender skirt that hangs around her ankles. Her black mary-janes can only just peek through.
"What do you want now?" Amai groans, "Quit following me!"
The other girl smiles, oblivious to the harsh comments just made, "Are you a Future Ultimate too? That's wonderful."
"Well, why else would I be here?" I grin sarcastically, though her bewildered stare suggests she didn't quite get it.
"Maybe you're a janitor then?" She says, tilting her head, "Or a professor?"
"How dense are you?" Amai groans, "Look, if you want introductions, then do it. I don't care."
The other girl smiles, turning to face me fully, "I'm Kuroko Eto, and I'm the Future Ultimate Nail Artist."