Danganronpa Extra Life

WHAT HAPPENED DURING NANAMI'S 8 MONTH SLUMBER?!

The next morning, Chiaki woke up with her stomach loudly making complaints about how empty it was. Attempting to push herself up so she could get out of bed proved fruitless; her arms quaked beneath her, then collapsed. Her second and third tries were no more successful and left her back at square zero—lying on her bed hungry and unable to do a thing about it.

As she was pondering how to solve this, the door opened and Kamukura-kun stepped inside, a plate of food in his hands. Chiaki's stomach gurgled longingly as the appetizing smell wafted towards her. Unable to lift her upper body, she settled for craning her neck to try and see what was on it.

"You will not be able to stand or walk for a while," he stated as he took the chair next to her bed, somehow guessing exactly what she'd been trying to do. He set the plate down on his knees, and the Ultimate Gamer's mouth watered as the food entered view. He'd brought her the traditional Japanese breakfast of grilled fish, miso soup and rice. It looked as divine as it smelled. "Weeks, at least."

At that moment Chiaki wouldn't have cared if she never walked again. She just wanted that food, and she eagerly reached for it, forgetting that nothing was working like she was used to. Her arm lifted barely a few inches before thumping against the bed. Her fingers twitched, the digits useless, and she let out a frustrated noise.

"Your muscles have atrophied during your coma," Kamukura-kun explained as he started slicing the fish. "I did what I could to lessen the effects, but some decay was inevitable. You lack the muscular strength, mobility, and fine motor control for even the most basic of activities. So I will be assisting you."

"Ah, you really don't have to—"

He cut her off by bringing a piece of salmon to her mouth, clearly expectant. Looking at the chopsticks as they hovered in the air, Chiaki thought about trying to take them, but quickly rejected the idea; it took everything she had to keep her fingers around her hairpin. She'd never manage to hold the utensils. Slowly, trying not to feel guilty about being so helpless he had to do things for her, she murmured her thanks and parted her lips.

Her eyes popped open in surprise as the flavors exploded onto her tongue. Oh my god he's got maxed out cooking. The salmon was grilled to perfection, drizzled in soy sauce and garnished with daikon. It was as incredible as Hanamura-kun's food, maybe even better. "Did you make this?" she exclaimed, shame forgotten, eagerly opening her mouth and leaning forward for another bite.

He placed the next morsel in her mouth, barely withdrawing the chopsticks before she snapped it shut and chewed. "Yes."

"It's delicious!"

The rice and soup were equally as exquisite, and at the end of the meal she leaned back against the pillows with a content sigh. Trying to sit up caused her entire body to tremble, but it felt good to be even a little vertical. She watched Kamukura-kun eat his own portion; unlike her, he didn't seem to relish the food, mechanically moving it towards his mouth without a change in expression.

Minutes ticked by in silence. Now that her belly was satisfied, Chiaki became aware of another pressing need. Fidgeting slightly, she glanced at Kamukura-kun, who had just finished his breakfast. "Um...could you help me get to the bathroom?"

She'd been expecting him to offer his shoulder to lean on as she tried to stumble around. What she wasn't prepared for was for him to scoop her up effortlessly and set off down the hall. Chiaki gasped in alarm, fingers automatically trying to dig into his shirt for purchase. She could feel the warmth of his skin through his clothes; with his demeanor, she'd almost expected him to be cold.

They went down a flight of stairs. He somehow opened what must have been the bathroom door without dropping her. The pink-haired girl barely caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror—frightfully thin and pale—before Kamukura-kun carried her past it and set her down on the toilet. She shifted uncomfortably, waiting for him to leave. He did not, and with a hot surge of mortification she realized why: he was going to have to help her.