Danganronpa Extra Life

Nanami Likes Him?

The aftermath of the Second Mutual Killing Game of Hope's Peak Academy was a storm of activity and chaos. As soon as the students stepped outside, they were whisked away by the Future Foundation. Over the next few days the television blared with reports from vice-chairman Munakata Kyosuke, promising Class 78 was safe. Their memories had been restored to them, and they were currently undergoing therapy; they would be available for the cameras once they were ready. Shortly after, the corpses of the other victims of the killing game were extracted from the school, and there was a public memorial held for them a week after the game ended. It was broadcast live, and it was the first time the world had seen the six survivors since. They were all hovering close together, jumpy and tense, with every sudden noise making Naegi in particular flinch. But he was still able to go up and give a little speech about how much all his classmates had meant to him, and he only broke down crying after he'd left the podium.

A few days after that, Enoshima Junko's death was publicly confirmed. It had taken the Future Foundation some extra time to uncover her corpse, hence the delay, and even longer to identify it—there simply wasn't much left. Her remains had been missing pieces, such as an eye, an arm, and several organs, and her face had been so damaged as to be unidentifiable. But, Munakata said, the DNA tests had come back positive. It really was her, and she really was dead. Celebrations swept the globe when this was announced.

Soon, the survivors of Class 78 were constantly on television, being interviewed about their experience, their restored memories, their lost loved ones, their plans for the future. Naegi especially couldn't get a day's rest; Kirigiri's proclamation of him as Ultimate Hope had quickly caught on, inspiring the public, and the Future Foundation milked it for all it was worth. He became a figurehead, an icon, perhaps frazzled and unprepared, but doing his best. The culmination of all these small victories meant there was finally hope for the world being restored, and it showed in the faces on the screen.

None of this mattered to Izuru. It was a predictable outcome to a disappointingly predictable ending.

The game had been mostly predictable too, nearly all the behaviors and actions falling within expected parameters, but there had been outliers here and there—Fujisaki using the second motive to grasp hope instead of crumpling into despair, or Asahina's poor attempt at homicide, for example. Those rare occurrences had been enough to hold his attention, and he'd wondered if perhaps this would show him which of hope and despair was more unpredictable. Perhaps he would not need his plan after all.

And then Enoshima had to ruin it. Interfering, breaking her own rules, framing an innocent—rather than letting hope triumph naturally over despair or vice versa, she'd attempted to force an outcome. And by doing so, she'd invalidated all potential data; an experiment's results couldn't be kept if there was outside tampering. Worse, he could perfectly predict the only possible result: the students would defeat her. Hope was going to triumph over despair not because of its merits, but because of despair's own meddling.

He stopped paying attention after that. It had been slightly interesting when Naegi's luck saved him, but that had only lent credence to his conclusion. Naegi was to his class what Nanami had been to hers: hope. As long as he lived, he would prevent them from falling into despair. They had the means to challenge Enoshima directly now, and when they did they would win. And indeed, everything unfolded exactly as he foresaw. It was so boring it actually made him angry.

He couldn't even claim to be satisfied at watching that bitch die, because she'd enjoyed it. Leave it to Enoshima to find a way to spite him, even unintentionally. He was sure she would be laughing if she were still alive.

Involuntarily, he glanced down at his phone. He couldn't say why he did such a pointless thing; there was no need to check for messages. He only had one, a time-delay text received the day after Enoshima's death. It was short, simple, and he'd already memorized it: Don't forget your promise, senpai!